if
privileged
from trial,
How cheap a thing were virtue?
How cheap a thing were virtue?
Robert Forst
Alas, Madam! how seldom do we meet in this world, that we have reason
to congratulate ourselves on accessions of happiness! I have not
passed half the ordinary term of an old man's life, and yet I scarcely
look over the obituary of a newspaper, that I do not see some names
that I have known, and which I, and other acquaintances, little
thought to meet with there so soon. Every other instance of the
mortality of our kind, makes us cast an anxious look into the dreadful
abyss of uncertainty, and shudder with apprehension for our own fate.
But of how different an importance are the lives of different
individuals? Nay, of what importance is one period of the same life,
more than another? A few years ago, I could have laid down in the
dust, "careless of the voice of the morning;" and now not a few, and
these most helpless individuals, would, on losing me and my exertions,
lose both their "staff and shield. " By the way, these helpless ones
have lately got an addition; Mrs. B---- having given me a fine girl
since I wrote you. There is a charming passage in Thomson's "Edward
and Eleonora:"
"The valiant _in himself_, what can he suffer?
Or what need he regard his _single_ woes? " &c.
As I am got in the way of quotations, I shall give you another from
the same piece, peculiarly, alas! too peculiarly apposite, my dear
Madam, to your present frame of mind:
"Who so unworthy but may proudly deck him
With his fair-weather virtue, that exults
Glad o'er the summer main! the tempest comes,
The rough winds rage aloud; when from the helm,
This virtue shrinks, and in a corner lies
Lamenting--Heavens!
if privileged from trial,
How cheap a thing were virtue? "
I do not remember to have heard you mention Thomson's dramas. I pick
up favourite quotations, and store them in my mind as ready armour,
offensive or defensive, amid the struggle of this turbulent existence.
Of these is one, a very favourite one, from his "Alfred:"
"Attach thee firmly to the virtuous deeds
And offices of life; to life itself,
With all its vain and transient joys, sit loose. "
Probably I have quoted some of these to you formerly, as indeed when I
write from the heart, I am apt to be guilty of such repetitions. The
compass of the heart, in the musical style of expression, is much more
bounded than that of the imagination; so the notes of the former are
extremely apt to run into one another; but in return for the paucity
of its compass, its few notes are much more sweet. I must still give
you another quotation, which I am almost sure I have given you before,
but I cannot resist the temptation. The subject is religion--speaking
of its importance to mankind, the author says,
"'Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright. "
I see you are in for double postage, so I shall e'en scribble out
t'other sheet. We, in this country here, have many alarms of the
reforming, or rather the republican spirit, of your part of the
kingdom. Indeed we are a good deal in commotion ourselves. For me, I
am a placeman, you know; a very humble one indeed, Heaven knows, but
still so much as to gag me. What my private sentiments are, you will
find out without an interpreter.
* * * * *
I have taken up the subject, and the other day, for a pretty actress's
benefit night, I wrote an address, which I will give on the other
page, called "The rights of woman:"
"While Europe's eye is fixed on mighty things. "
I shall have the honour of receiving your criticisms in person at
Dunlop.
R.