In a book published about a century and a half ago, I remember to have read a tale, which recounteth that, "Once uponne a tyme, the Divelle was permitted to tempte a yonge manne. Sathanne had noe sooner power gyven hym, than hee didde appeere in the guyze of a grave bencher of Graie's Inne, and didde tell himme that hee was impoweryd to compelle hys doing one of these three thynges: eyther he shoulde morthere his fathere, lie wythe his mothere, or gette dronke. The young manne," saith my author, "shockyd atte the two first proposycyons, didde ymbrace the laste. He gotte verie dronke, and in thatte state, havying neyther the use of reasonne nor the dredde of sinne, hee was guyltie offe bothe the unaturalle deedes hee hadde before soe shudderydde atte, and for hys naughtinesse and wyckednesse hee was hangydde." I have been told that the original picture was some years since found at an inn in Gloucestershire, and is now in the possession of J. Calverley, Esq., of Leeds, in Yorkshire. [Illustration: (end of chapter floral icon)] THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION. "Beneath this antique roof, this hallow'd shade, Where wearied rustics holy Sabbath keep, Compos'd as if on downy pillows laid, The sons and daughters of the hamlet sleep." [Illustration: THE SLEEPING CONGREGATION.] The shepherd is not much more awake than his sleeping flock, whose appearance convinces us that, though there is no organ, there is much melody. The nasal music of the congregation, joined to the languid monotony of the preacher,[120] which sounds like the drowsy hum of a drone bee, must form such a concert as neither Tubal Cain nor Sir John Hawkins ever dreamed of. The text is perfectly applicable to the audience, "Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." His parishioners have not troubled themselves much about the Greek version; good, easy men, they take these words in their literal sense, and, after the toil of six days, find the church a comfortable and convenient dormitory. By the preacher's aspect and attitude, we are convinced that he would lull to soft repose the most lively assembly that ever congregated in the capital. How, then, must his manner operate here? As an opiate more powerful than poppies. It is as composing as are the very descriptive lines that conclude the second book of Pope's _Dunciad_; which are so perfectly an echo to the sense, that they ought to be inscribed on the front of the first temple which is dedicated to Somnus. He "In one lazy tone, Through the long, heavy, painful page, drawls on. Soft creeping words on words the sense compose; At every line they stretch, they yawn, they doze. As to soft gales top-heavy pines bow low Their heads, and lift them as they cease to blow, Thus oft they rear, and oft the head decline, As breathe or pause by fits the airs divine: And now to this side, now to that they nod," etc.