Tales | Page 3

a man can trust,"?Proceeded Hammond--"if the laws were just;?But they are evil; 'tis the savage state?Is only good, and ours sophisticate!?See! the free creatures in their woods and plains,?Where without laws each happy monarch reigns,?King of himself--while we a number dread,?By slaves commanded and by dunces led:?Oh, let the name with either state agree -?Savage our own we'll name, and civil theirs shall be."
The silent Justice still astonish'd sat,?And wonder'd much whom he was gazing at;?Twice he essay'd to speak--but in a cough,?The faint, indignant, dying speech went off:?"But who is this?" thought he--"a demon vile,?With wicked meaning and a vulgar style:?Hammond they call him: they can give the name?Of man to devils.--Why am I so tame??Why crush I not the viper?"--Fear replied,?Watch him awhile, and let his strength be tried:?He will be foil'd, if man; but if his aid?Be from beneath, 'tis well to be afraid."
"We are call'd free!" said Hammond--"doleful times,?When rulers add their insult to their crimes;?For should our scorn expose each powerful vice,?It would be libel, and we pay the price."
Thus with licentious words the man went on,?Proving that liberty of speech was gone;?That all were slaves--nor had we better chance?For better times, than as allies to France.
Loud groan'd the Stranger--Why, he must relate,?And own'd, "In sorrow for his country's fate;"?"Nay, she were safe," the ready man replied,?"Might patriots rule her, and could reasoners guide;?When all to vote, to speak, to teach, are free,?Whate'er their creeds or their opinions be;?When books of statutes are consumed in flames,?And courts and copyholds are empty names:?Then will be times of joy--but ere they come,?Havock, and war, and blood must be our doom."
The man here paused--then loudly for Reform?He call'd, and hail'd the prospect of the storm:?The wholesome blast, the fertilizing flood -?Peace gain'd by tumult, plenty bought with blood:?Sharp means, he own'd; but when the land's disease?Asks cure complete, no med'cines are like these.
Our Justice now, more led by fear than rage,?Saw it in vain with madness to engage;?With imps of darkness no man seeks to fight,?Knaves to instruct, or set deceivers right:?Then as the daring speech denounced these woes,?Sick at the soul, the grieving Guest arose;?Quick on the board his ready cash he threw,?And from the demons to his closet flew:?There when secured, he pray'd with earnest seal,?That all they wish'd these patriot-souls might feel;?"Let them to France, their darling country, haste,?And all the comforts of a Frenchman taste;?Let them his safety, freedom, pleasure know,?Feel all their rulers on the land bestow;?And be at length dismiss'd by one unerring blow, -?Not hack'd and hew'd by one afraid to strike,?But shorn by that which shears all men alike;?Nor, as in Britain, let them curse delay?Of law, but borne without a form away -?Suspected, tried, condemn'd, and carted in a day;?Oh! let them taste what they so much approve,?These strong fierce freedoms of the land they love." {2}
Home came our hero, to forget no more?The fear he felt and ever must deplore:?For though he quickly join'd his friends again,?And could with decent force his themes maintain,?Still it occurr'd that, in a luckless time,?He fail'd to fight with heresy and crime;?It was observed his words were not so strong,?His tones so powerful, his harangues so long,?As in old times--for he would often drop?The lofty look, and of a sudden stop;?When conscience whisper'd, that he once was still,?And let the wicked triumph at their will;?And therefore now, when not a foe was near,?He had no right so valiant to appear.
Some years had pass'd, and he perceived his fears?Yield to the spirit of his earlier years -?When at a meeting, with his friends beside,?He saw an object that awaked his pride;?His shame, wrath, vengeance, indignation--all?Man's harsher feelings did that sight recall.
For, lo! beneath him fix'd, our Man of Law?That lawless man the Foe of Order saw;?Once fear'd, now scorn'd; once dreaded, now abhorrd:?A wordy man, and evil every word:?Again he gazed--"It is," said he "the same?Caught and secure: his master owes him shame;"?So thought our hero, who each instant found?His courage rising, from the numbers round.
As when a felon has escaped and fled,?So long, that law conceives the culprit dead;?And back recall'd her myrmidons, intent?On some new game, and with a stronger scent;?Till she beholds him in a place, where none?Could have conceived the culprit would have gone;?There he sits upright in his seat, secure,?As one whose conscience is correct and pure;?This rouses anger for the old offence,?And scorn for all such seeming and pretence:?So on this Hammond look'd our hero bold,?Rememb'ring well that vile offence of old;?And now he saw the rebel dar'd t'intrude?Among the pure, the loyal, and the good;?The crime provok'd his wrath, the folly stirr'd his blood:?Nor wonder was it, if so strange a sight?Caused joy with vengeance, terror with delight;?Terror like this a tiger might create,?A joy like