“True I am hopeless to behold him man; But let me make the booby what I can: Though the rude stone no polish will display, Yet you may strip the rugged coat away.” Stephen beheld his books--“I love to know How money goes--now here is that to show; And now,” he cried, “I shall be pleased to get Beyond the Bible--there I puzzle yet.” He spoke abash’d--“Nay, nay!” the friend replied, “You need not lay the good old book aside; 290 Antique and curious, I myself indeed Read it at times, but as a man should read; A fine old work it is, and I protest I hate to hear it treated as a jest; The book has wisdom in it, if you look Wisely upon it, as another book; For superstition (as our priests of sin Are pleased to tell us) makes us blind within.-- Of this hereafter--we will now select Some works to please you, others to direct; 300 Tales and romances shall your fancy feed, And reasoners form your morals and your creed.” The books were view’d, the price was fairly paid, And Stephen read, undaunted, undismay’d-- But not till first he paper’d all the row, And placed in order, to enjoy the show; Next letter’d all the backs with care and speed, Set them in ranks, and then began to read. The love of order,--I the thing receive From reverend men, and I in part believe-- 310 Shows a clear mind and clean, and whoso needs This love but seldom in the world succeeds; And yet with this some other love must be, Ere I can fully to the fact agree. Valour and study may by order gain, By order sovereigns hold more steady reign; Through all the tribes of nature order runs, And rules around in systems and in suns; Still has the love of order found a place } With all that’s low, degrading, mean, and base, } 320 With all that merits scorn, and all that meets } disgrace: } In the cold miser, of all change afraid; In pompous men, in public seats obey’d; In humble placemen, heralds, solemn drones, Fanciers of flowers, and lads like Stephen Jones; Order to these is armour and defence, And love of method serves in lack of sense. For rustic youth could I a list produce Of Stephen’s books, how great might be the use; But evil fate was theirs--survey’d, enjoy’d 330 Some happy months, and then by force destroy’d. So will’d the fates--but these, with patience read, Had vast effect on Stephen’s heart and head. This soon appear’d--within a single week He oped his lips, and made attempt to speak; He fail’d indeed--but still his friend confess’d The best have fail’d, and he had done his best. The first of swimmers, when at first he swims, Has little use or freedom in his limbs;