92-100 The Warder. No VII. very far from lying solely or peculiarly at the door of the gentlemen to In our days it is whom we allude. not possible to look around upon the world, and to compare what we see in the style and structure of society with what we know to have been in the times of our fathers, without observing that many great and remarkable Every changes have taken place. where, and in every walk of life, it is too evident that the upper orders of society have been tending, more and more, to a separation of themselves from those whom nature, providence, and law, have placed beneath them. It is not now the season when men should hesitate to speak out fairly what they know and feel upon such subjects as these. A fastidious spirit of luxury and refinement has everywhere been The rich gaining ground among us. and the high have been indolently and slothfully allowing the barriers that separate them from their inferiors to increase and accumulate. An Epicurean spirit has gone wide abroad in our land, even among those that would be most inclined to startle at its name. Men have come to deride and despise a thousand of those means of communication that in former days knit all orders of the people together. Weary of pomp, and shew, and circumstance, and of all that used most to dazzle and delight the vulgar eye, men of rank and wealth have foolishly, we fear, laid aside, along with these things, many more modest and secret, but still more effectual instruments of attaching these dependents to their persons. The spirit of general kindliness has not assuredly become extinct ;-but we have learned to be too much satisfied with the conscious excellence of that general spirit-and to be too negligent of those minute and laborious services of human concern, by which alone that spirit can be made to operate as a healing and cementing charm over the whole wide-spread and diversified surface of human society. The master has not ceased to care for his servants, but he has become too delicate to shew his care by that cordial and grateful condescension of personal communication that of old made the vassal look up to his lord like a son to his father. Societies, and subscriptions, and magnificent donations, and beneficent directions and regulations, are all excellent in their way-but the effect of all these things is nothing PRIDE WAS NOT MADE FOR MAN. The fault, as we have said, has been universal-in every condition and walk of social life-and it is just and necessary to be had in view, that where its bad effects have been most manifested, the fault has been most excusable. The immense extent of the manufacturing establishments in many parts both of England and Scotland, has rendered it, without doubt, a matter of most extreme difficulty for those at the head of them to keep up any thing like those habits of minute acquaintance and tangible sympathy with their people, which prevailed among the masters and apprentices of the comparatively limited and trifling establishments of former days. But, if our information be correct, and we have all faith that it is so, this great difficulty has been effectually struggled with, and happily overcome, even in instances when it was greatest,-and not a few of our most magnificent establishments have, through no visible human means, save the extraordinary personal zeal, and kindly habits of their superintendents, escaped quite free from the plague that has laid waste so many, immeasurably inferior to them in riches and extent. He that knows what his duty is, and resolves to do his duty, will always, without question, find time and means to do it. But this is not all. Is it going too far to say, that, after what has passed, it is the plain and distinct duty of every man to limit his establishment within the bounds that admit of his discharging the obligations inseparable from his condition? Is the hope of any temporary gain to be permitted to make an honest man voluntarily and deliberately draw around himself difficulties with which he is aware of his own incapacity to cope? Nay, more, is the hope or the certainty of any personal gain whatever, to be permitted to tempt any loyal man to do that which abundant and most lamentable experience has shewn to be pregnant with the elements of all social and national calamity? We trust that thoughts such as these are at this moment busy in many an honest and in many a loyal bosom, and that many willing sacrifices are on the eve of being offered up at the altars of Conscience, Patriotism, and Religion. The gentlemen at the head of the establishments, which have suffered most in these last trials, are the best judges of the modes and regulations, in and under which they are to allow the return of their deluded dependents. We have no doubt, firmness and mercy will be mingled in the measures they are about to adopt-but when that first great object of their present endeavour shall have been arranged and settled-we would hope such considerations as we have now been expressing, may receive no superficial or hasty portion of their after concern. In country life, however, not a little of the same general fault has been gaining ground, as well as in the life of cities and manufactories-although, as in that happier life it is infinitely more inexcusable, so it has also happily made far less dangerous and alarming progress. There assuredly, there is nothing to prevent the evil from being easily and effectually arrested. There the old spirit may yet be said to be entire and untainted, although some unwise assaults have been made upon its precious outworks. Nothing is more evident to those who have vi sited the scenes of recent tumult and disaffection, than the blessed effects which have been produced everywhere by the hearty and honest zeal of our yeomanry. Foolish, and shortsighted men, have indeed been found to condemn the great increase which has recently taken place in the establishment of yeomanry corps-but we fear not to say, that this voice of detraction can now find no listeners among the loyal men, either of Yorkshire or Lancashire, or of the West of Scotland. The services which these corps have rendered, are by no means to be summed up in their own marches and watchings. The intercourse which has occurred between them and the regular troops with whom they have acted, has, without all question, been productive of the happiest immediate effects-but above all, we look to the increased intercourse which they have already created, and which they must continue to create and strengthen between landlords and tenants, as affording by far the most sure and effectual pledge, for the future well-being of the wide face of the country. It is Shakspeare, we think, who remarks, that in times of war, the citizens of the same state are more affectionate towards each other than at any other time. The deeper sense which is then felt of the community-the identity of interests, is no doubt the chief element of this kindly feeling-but there is a charm for all human bosoms, in the very air and aspect of martial exercise, which may fairly be set by its side, as another and a most powerful strengthener of all the warmer affections of our nature. The foundations of the national character, both of England and Scotland, were laid deep and sure, in days when every gentleman and every yeoman was more or less a soldier-and now we confess, we look forward to the proud and willing revival of many manly feelings, which must necessarily attend the resumption of these manly exercises, as furnishing rich and bright hopes, for the welfare of ourselves and of our children. A single day spent by the young farmer on horseback in presence of his natural superior a single dark wet ride shared with his young master, will do more to bind him to his person and to his house than all the intercourse that could possibly occur between them in many years of ordinary life. Were And wonder'st thou if I shed tears? Ere now, Hast thou not seen hard rocks appear to weep, When suddenly, from freezing cold to warmth Transported? It is but of death the token. Then wonder not, pale, trembling flower! Tho. Oh Jarl! My own! my Hakon! Help me, Heaven! Hak. The snow Fades on the mountains; now its reign is o'er ; The powerful winter melts away, and yields Before the charmful breath of flowery spring. Jarl Hakon is no more his ghost alone Still wanders on the earth. Yet boldly go, And thro' his body drive a wooden spear Deep in the earth beneath. Then shall, at last, His miserable spectre find repose. Tho. My Hakon, be composed; speak not so wildly. The loftiest spirit, howsoe'er endow'd, Must yield at last to fortune. Thy proud heart Has long with hate and enmity contended; Now let its o'erstretch'd chords relent at last, In tears upon the bosom of thy love. But follow me.Beneath this house a vault Deep in the rock is broad and widely hewn, That no one knows but I alone, and there Will I conceal thee till the danger's past. Soon may a better fortune smile on us! Hak. Say to me truly, Think'st thou that Clear and rejoicing, as the night was gloomy. Wilt thou not, till the horses are refreshed, Repose beneath these trees? Olaf. I cannot rest Till we have Hakon prisoner :-His army (Einar the bowman enters with Hakon's war dress.) Einar. Olaf! Thy toils are o'er. Beside a mountain stream Jarl Hakon's steed Lay bathed in gore, and there I found his mantle, All bloody too. Thy soldiers must have met, And kill'd him there. Olaf. Indeed? Can this be so? Is this his dress? Who recognises it? Greif. The dress in truth is there, but where's the Jarl? Lay he there too? Einar. His horse and cloak alone Have I beheld. Greif. Bring also the Jarl, and then We may repose; but not before. Methought Thou knew'st him better. He, if I mistake not, By this time has assumed another dressLet not this trick mislead you, Sire. It suits The crafty Jarl-He has contrived it all, But to deceive us. Olaf. Forward then, my friends ;We are near Rimol. There is held the congress, And we may gain some tidings of the foe. Greif. Aye there lives Thora, his devoted mistress. Einar. Nay, that is past,-Jarl has deserted her, And slain her brothers. Greif. Well, but it is said True love may never be outworn-and we Must try all chances. Olaf. Come, to horse! The day Is dawning brightly. Exeunt. A ROCKY VAULT. (HAKON.-KARKER.) (The last carries a burning lamp-And a plate with food. Hakon has a spear in his hand.) Kark. In this cavern then Hak. There ;-hang it on that hook. This much is gain'd. And here too there Let it be of a deep and hollow tone, Hak. Aye, that the grown-up child I know a famous war-song-an old legend. Hak. Has it a mournful ending? Seems it first, As if all things went prosperously on, Then winds up suddenly with death and murder? Kark. No, Sire. The song is sad from the beginning. Hak. Well that I most approve.-For Can'st thou not rest, as I have often done? (Karker stretches himself on the ground, and falls asleep.) Hak. (Looking at him.) Poor nature!slumber'st thou already? The spark which restlessly betokened life Already sunk in ashes! But 'tis well"Tis well for thee :-Within this heart what flames Violently rage!-Ha! stupid slave! hast thou, Commanded by the Normans, unto me He was, as I have been, unto the Gods come Odin and all his powers? And must he fall Who has of Christians been the enemy? (He pauses.) "Tis cold within this damp and dusky cave My blood is freezing in my veins. (He looks at Karker.) He dreams. How hatefully his features are contorted! Hegrins like some fantastic nightly spectre! Shaking him.) Ho! Karker! Slave, awake! What mean those faces? Karker. Ah! 'twas a dream. Hakon. And what then has thou dream'd? Hakon. Be silent. Hear'st thou not? Karker. Horsemen-my LordA numerous troop. I hear their armour clashing. They are, as I suspect, King Olaf's people, Who search for us. Hakon. This cave is all unknown. Its iron gates are strong. I have the key. Here are we safe. Karker. But hear'st thou what the Herald Is now proclaiming ? Hakon. No. What were the words? with honour Reward the man who brings to him the head Of Hakon, Jarl of Hlade. Hak. (Looking at him scrutinizingly.) Feel'st thou not Desire to win this wealth-why art thou trembling? Why are thy lips turn'd pale? Kark. The vision scar'd me. Like a chain'd dog, fawning he will come straight Perchance, my lord, you could explain it To him who offers the most tempting mor for me. Hak. What hast thou dream'd? Kark. That we were both at sea, In one small vessel, 'mid the stormy waves; I had the helm. Hak. That must betoken, Karker, That my life finally depends on thee. Therefore be faithful. In the hour of need, Stand by thy master firmly; and one day, He shall reward thee better than King Olaf. Kark. My lord-I dream'd yet more. Hak. Boy-tell me all ! Kark. There came a tall black man down to the shore, Who from the rocks proclaimed with fearful voice That every harbour was barr'd up against us. Hak. Karker, thou dream'st not well; for this betokens Short life even for us both. Be faithful still Recline, and so we both will go to sleep. And leave the lamp. Thou might'st extinguish it Then should we sit in darkness. It is more Than I can well explain, how every night Those who retire to sleep put out the light! Of death it is methinks a fearful emblem, More threatening far than slumber.-What appears In life so strong and vivid as a light? Where is the light when once it is extinguished? Let my lamp stand. It burns but feebly now Yet still it burns-and where there's life is hope! Go take thy place and sleep. sels Karker—give me thy dagger. Slaves, thou knowest, Should wear no weapons. Kark. From yourself my lord Hak. (Aside.) A fever Burns in my brain and blood. I am out worn, Exhausted with the combat of the day, With watching; and our long nocturnal flight. Yet sleep I dare not-while that sordid slave(He pauses.) Well-I may rest awhile-yet carefully Beware of sleep. (He sits down, and is overpowered by slumber.) Kark. (Softly.) Ha! now-he sleeps !— He trusts me not-he fears That I may now betray him to King OlafOlaf gives wealth and honours for his lifeWhat can I more expect from Hakon Jarl? He moves! Protect me, Heaven! He rises up, And yet is not awake. Hak. (Rising up in his sleep, and coming forward towards Karker-as if he fled from some fearful apparition.) GOLD-HARALD! SCHAAFELL! What would'st thou with me? Go! leave me in peace! Wherefore dost thou intrude thy death-pale visage Between those broken rocks? HARALD! thou liest ! I was to thee no traitor. How, now, chil (He walks unquietly up and down, and then Till now snow white, are purple drops de asks) Now, Karker, sleep'st thou ?- Hak. Ha-stupid slave !—(rising up.) Jarl Hakon! Is this wretch then the last that now remains Of all thy mighty force ?-I cannot trust him For what can such a dull and clouded brain Conceive of honour and fidelity? |