They made me cold to nature, dead to love." He takes no joy in home, but sighing, sees A son in sorrow, and a wife at ease; He takes no joy in office--see him now, And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow; Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possess'd, He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest - Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best. And thus he lives, if living be to sigh, And from all comforts of the world to fly, Without a hope in life--without a wish to die. TALE XXI. THE LEARNED BOY. Like one well studied in a sad ostent, To please his grandam. SHAKESPEARE, Merchant of Venice. And then the whining schoolboy with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping, like a snail, Unwillingly to school. As You Like it. He is a better scholar than I thought he was; he has a good sprag memory. Merry Wives of Windsor. One that feeds On objects, arts, and imitations, Which out of use, and staled by other men, Begin his fashion. Julius Caesar. Oh! torture me no more--I will confess. Henry VI, 2. ----------------------- An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true; He did by all as all by him should do; Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he, Yet famed for rustic hospitality: Left with his children in a widow'd state, The quiet man submitted to his fate; Though prudent matrons waited for his call, With cool forbearance he avoided all; Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy, By kind attention to his feeble boy; And though a friendly Widow knew no rest, Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd; Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone Their hearts' concern to see him left alone, Jones still persisted in that cheerless life, As if 'twere sin to take a second wife. Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead, To find such numbers who will serve instead; And in whatever state a man be thrown, 'Tis that precisely they would wish their own; Left the departed infants--then their joy Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy: Whatever calling his, whatever trade, To that their chief attention has been paid; His happy taste in all things they approve, His friends they honour, and his food they love; His wish for order, prudence in affairs, An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs; In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed, And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed: Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and hard, Can hear such claims and show them no regard. Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found By what strong foes he was encompass'd round, Engage he dared not, and he could not fly, But saw his hope in gentle parley lie; With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart, He met the foe, and art opposed to art. Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones, And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones: "Three girls," the Widow cried, "a lively three