That his own feelings should deny him ease. With talents gifted, he himself reproves, And can but scorn the vile pursuit he loves; He can but feel that there abides within The secret shame, the unrepented sin, And the strong sense, that bids him to confess He has not found the way to happiness. But ’tis the way where he has travell’d long— 250 And turn he will not, though he feels it wrong; Like a sad traveller, who, at closing day, Finds he has wander’d widely from his way, Yet wanders on, nor will new paths explore, Till the night falls, and he can walk no more. TALE XXI. _THE COUSINS._ I. _P._ I left a frugal Merchant, who began Early to thrive, and grew a wealthy man; Retired from business with a favourite Niece, He lived in plenty, or, if not—in peace. Their small affairs, conforming to his will, The maiden managed with superior skill. He had a Nephew too, a brother’s child— But James offended, for the lad was wild: And Patty’s tender soul was vex’d to hear, “Your Cousin James will rot in gaol, my dear; 10 And now, I charge you, by no kind of gift Show him that folly may be help’d by thrift.” This Patty heard, but in her generous mind Precept so harsh could no admission find. Her Cousin James, too sure in prison laid, With strong petitions plied the gentle maid, That she would humbly on their Uncle press His deep repentance, and his sore distress; How that he mourn’d in durance, night and day, And, which removed, he would for ever pray. 20 “Nought will I give, his worthless life to save,” The Uncle said; and nought in fact he gave. But the kind maiden from her pittance took All that she could, and gave with pitying look; For soft compassion in her bosom reign’d, And her heart melted when the Youth complain’d. Of his complaints the Uncle loved to hear, As Patty told them, shedding many a tear; While he would wonder how the girl could pray For a young rake, to place him in her way, 30 Or once admit him in his Uncle’s view; “But these,” said he, “are things that women do.” Thus were the Cousins, young, unguarded, fond, Bound in true friendship—so they named the bond— Nor call’d it love—and James resolved, when free, A most correct and frugal man to be. He sought her prayers, but not for heavenly aid: “Pray to my Uncle,” and she kindly pray’d— “James will be careful,” said the Niece; “and I Will be as careful,” was the stern reply. 40 Thus he resisted, and I know not how He could be soften’d—Is he kinder now? Hard was his heart; but yet a heart of steel May melt in dying, and dissolving feel. II.