MacMillan's Reading Books Part 6

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a nose, Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows, With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose, And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.

Then shifting his side as a lawyer knows how, He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes; But what were his arguments few people know, For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone, Decisive and clear, without one _if_ or _but_-- That, whenever the Nose put his Spectacles on, By daylight or candlelight--Eyes should be shut!

COWPER.

CASTLES IN THE AIR.

Alnaschar was a very idle fellow, that never would set his hand to any business during his father's life. When his father died he left him to the value of a hundred drachmas in Persian money. Alnaschar, in order to make the best of it, laid it out in bottles, gla.s.ses, and the finest earthenware. These he piled up in a large open basket; and, having made choice of a very little shop, placed the basket at his feet, and leaned his back upon the wall in expectation of customers. As he sat in this posture, with his eyes upon the basket, he fell into a most amusing train of thought, and was overheard by one of his neighbours, as he talked to himself in the following manner:--"This basket," says he, "cost me at the wholesale merchant's a hundred drachmas, which is all I had in the world. I shall quickly make two hundred of it by selling it in retail. These two hundred drachmas will in a very little while rise to four hundred; which, of course, will amount in time to four thousand.

Four thousand drachmas cannot fail of making eight thousand. As soon as by these means I am master of ten thousand, I will lay aside my trade of a gla.s.s-man and turn jeweller. I shall then deal in diamonds, pearls, and all sorts of rich stones. When I have got together as much wealth as I can well desire, I will make a purchase of the finest house I can find, with lands, slaves, and horses. I shall then begin to enjoy myself and make a noise in the world. I will not, however, stop there; but still continue my traffic until I have got together a hundred thousand drachmas. When I have thus made myself master of a hundred thousand drachmas, I shall naturally set myself on the footing of a prince, and will demand the grand vizier's daughter in marriage, after having represented to that minister the information which I have received of the beauty, wit, discretion, and other high qualities which his daughter possesses. I will let him know at the same time that it is my intention to make him a present of a thousand pieces of gold on our marriage day.

As soon as I have married the grand vizier's daughter, I must make my father-in-law a visit, with a great train and equipage. And when I am placed at his right hand, which he will do of course, if it be only to honour his daughter, I will give him the thousand pieces of gold which I promised him; and afterwards, to his great surprise, will present him with another purse of the same value, with some short speech: as, 'Sir, you see I am a man of my word: I always give more than I promise.'"

"When I have brought the princess to my house, I shall take particular care to breed her in due respect for me. To this end I shall confine her to her own apartments, make her a short visit, and talk but little to her. Her women will represent to me that she is inconsolable by reason of my unkindness; but I shall still remain inexorable. Her mother will then come and bring her daughter to me, as I am seated on a sofa. The daughter, with tears in her eyes, will fling herself at my feet, and beg me to receive her into my favour. Then will I, to imprint her with a thorough veneration for my person, draw up my legs, and spurn her from me with my foot in such a manner that she shall fall down several paces from the sofa."

Alnaschar was entirely swallowed up in his vision, and could not forbear acting with his foot what he had in his thoughts: so that, unluckily striking his basket of brittle ware, which was the foundation of all his grandeur, he kicked his gla.s.ses to a great distance from him into the street, and broke them into ten thousand pieces.

ADDISON.

[Note: _Joseph Addison_, born 1672, died 1719. Chiefly famous as a critic and essayist. His calm sense and judgment, and the attraction of his style, have rendered his writings favourites from his own time to ours.]

THE INCHCAPE BELL.

No stir on the air, no swell on the sea, The ship was still as she might be: The sails from heaven received no motion; The keel was steady in the ocean.

With neither sign nor sound of shock, The waves flow'd o'er the Inchcape Rock; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The pious abbot of Aberbrothock Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; On the waves of the storm it floated and swung, And louder and louder its warning rung.

When the rock was hid by the tempest swell, The mariners heard the warning bell, And then they knew the perilous rock, And blessed the abbot of Aberbrothock.

The float of the Inchcape Bell was seen, A darker spot on the ocean green.

Sir Ralph the Rover walked the deck, And he fix'd his eye on the darker speck.

His eye was on the bell and float,-- Quoth he, "My men, put down the boat, And row me to the Inchcape Rock,-- I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothock!".

The boat was lower'd, the boatmen row, And to the Inchcape Rock they go.

Sir Ralph leant over from the boat, And cut the bell from off the float.

Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound; The bubbles rose, and burst around.

Quoth he, "Who next comes to the rock Won't bless the priest of Aberbrothock!"

Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away; He scour'd the sea for many a day; And now, grown rich with plunder'd store, He steers his way for Scotland's sh.o.r.e.

So thick a haze o'erspread the sky, They could not see the sun on high; The wind had blown a gale all day; At evening it hath died away.

"Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar?

For yonder, methinks, should be the sh.o.r.e.

Now, where we are, I cannot tell,-- I wish we heard the Inchcape Bell."

They heard no sound--the swell is strong, Though the wind hath fallen they drift along: Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, "Oh heavens! it is the Inchcape Rock!"

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, And cursed himself in his despair; And waves rush in on every side, The ship sinks fast beneath the tide.

SOUTHEY.

[Notes: _Robert Southey_, born 1774, died 1848. Poet Laureate and author of numerous works in prose and verse.]

_Quoth_. Saxon _Cwaethan_, to say. A Perfect now used only in the first and third persons singular of the present indicative; the nominative following the verb.

_Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock_. Notice the effective use of alliteration (_i.e_., the recurrence of words beginning with the same letter), which is the basis of old-English rhythm.]

THE DEATH OF NELSON.

It had been part of Nelson's prayer that the British fleet might be distinguished by humanity in the victory he expected. Setting an example himself, he twice gave orders to cease firing upon the 'Redoubtable,'