What men may merit when they nothing know.” “Yet reason here,” said Richard, “joins with pride:--” “I did not ask th’ alliance,” George replied-- “I grant it true, such trifle may induce A dull, proud man to wake and be of use; And there are purer pleasures, that a mind 110 Calm and uninjured may in villas find; But, where th’ affections have been deeply tried, With other food that mind must be supplied: ’Tis not in trees or medals to impart The powerful medicine for an aching heart; The agitation dies, but there is still The backward spirit, the resisting will. Man takes his body to a country seat, But minds, dear Richard, have their own retreat; Oft when the feet are pacing o’er the green 120 The mind is gone where never grass was seen, And never thinks of hill, or vale, or plain, } Till want of rest creates a sense of pain, } That calls that wandering mind, and brings it home again. } No more of farms; but here I boast of minds That make a friend the richer when he finds: These shalt thou see;--but, Richard, be it known, Who thinks to see must in his turn be shown.-- But now farewell! to thee will I resign Woods, walks, and valleys! take them till we dine.” 130 * * * * * The Brothers dined, and with that plenteous fare That seldom fails to dissipate our care, At least the lighter kind; and oft prevails When reason, duty, nay, when kindness fails. Yet food and wine, and all that mortals bless, Lead them to think of peril and distress-- Cold, hunger, danger, solitude, and pain, That men in life’s adventurous ways sustain. “Thou hast sail’d far, dear brother,” said the ’squire-- “Permit me of these unknown lands t’ inquire, 140 Lands never till’d, where thou hast wondering been, And all the marvels thou hast heard and seen. Do tell me something of the miseries felt In climes where travellers freeze, and where they melt; And be not nice--we know ’tis not in men Who travel far to hold a steady pen. Some will, ’tis true, a bolder freedom take, And keep our wonder always wide awake; We know of those whose dangers far exceed Our frail belief, that trembles as we read: 150 Such as in deserts burn, and thirst, and die, Save a last gasp that they recover by; Then, too, their hazard from a tyrant’s arms, A tiger’s fury, or a lady’s charms; Beside th’ accumulated evils borne From the bold outset to the safe return. These men abuse; but thou hast fair pretence To modest dealing, and to mild good sense; Then let me hear thy struggles and escapes In the far lands of crocodiles and apes: 160 Say, hast thou, Bruce-like, knelt upon the bed Where the young Nile uplifts his branchy head?