No More Learning



## p. 13357 (#163) ##########################################

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
13357
Sir Fretful-O Lud! no- never send a play there while I
Hark'ee!
live-
[Whispers to Sneer.
――――
Sneer-"Writes himself! " I know he does.
Sir Fretful-I say nothing-I take away from no man's
meritam hurt at no man's good fortune; I say nothing. But
this I will say,- Through all my knowledge of life, I have
observed that there is not a passion so strongly rooted in the
human heart as envy!
Sneer - I believe you have reason for what you say, indeed.
Sir Fretful-Besides, I can tell you it is not always so safe
to leave a play in the hands of those who write themselves.
Sneer-What! they may steal from them, hey, my dear Pla-
giary?
Sir Fretful-Steal! To be sure they may; and egad, serve
your best thoughts as gipsies do stolen children,—disfigure them
to make 'em pass for their own.
Sneer-But your present work is a sacrifice to Melpomene;
and he, you know, never —
Sir Fretful-That's no security. A dexterous plagiarist may
do anything. Why, sir, for aught I know, he might take out
some of the best things in my tragedy, and put them into his
own comedy.
Sneer-That might be done, I dare be sworn.
Sir Fretful-And then, if such a person gives you the least.
hint or assistance, he is devilish apt to take the merit of the
whole-
—
Dangle-If it succeeds.
Sir Fretful-Ay-but with regard to this piece, I think I
can hit that gentleman, for I can safely swear he never read it.
Sneer I'll tell you how you may hurt him more.
Sir Fretful-How?
Sneer
Swear he wrote it.
---
to me.
-
Sir Fretful-Plague on't now, Sneer, I shall take it ill. I
believe you want to take away my character as an author!
Sneer-Then I am sure you ought to be very much obliged
Sir Fretful- Hey! Sir!
Dangle-Oh, you know he never means what he says.
Sir Fretful-Sincerely, then,—you do like the piece?
Sneer-Wonderfully!


## p. 13358 (#164) ##########################################

13358
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
Sir Fretful-But come now, there must be something that
you think might be mended, hey? — Mr. Dangle, has nothing
struck you?
Dangle-Why, faith, it is but an ungracious thing, for the
most part, to —
Sir Fretful-With most authors it is just so, indeed: they
are in general strangely tenacious! But for my part, I am never
so well pleased as when a judicious critic points out any defect
to me; for what is the purpose of showing a work to a friend, if
you don't mean to profit by his opinion?
Sneer - Very true. Why then, though I seriously admire the
piece upon the whole, yet there is one small objection; which, if
you'll give me leave, I'll mention.
Sir Fretful-Sir, you can't oblige me more.
Sneer - I think it wants incident.
Sir Fretful-Good God! -you surprise me! - wants incident!
Sneer Yes: I own I think the incidents are too few.
Sir Fretful-Good God! - Believe me, Mr. Sneer, there is no
person for whose judgment I have a more implicit deference.
But I protest to you, Mr. Sneer, I am only apprehensive that the
incidents are too crowded. My dear Dangle, how does it strike
you?
―
Dangle-Really, I can't agree with my friend Sneer. I think
the plot quite sufficient; and the four first acts by many degrees
the best I ever read or saw in my life. If I might venture to
suggest anything, it is that the interest rather falls off in the
fifth.
Sir Fretful-Rises, I believe you mean, sir.
Dangle-No, I don't, upon my word.
Sir Fretful-Yes, yes, you do, upon my soul: it certainly
don't fall off, I assure you. No, no, it don't fall off.
Dangle-Now, Mrs. Dangle, didn't you say it struck you in
the same light?
Mrs. Dangle-No, indeed I did not. I did not see a fault in
any part of the play from the beginning to the end.
Sir Fretful [crossing to Mrs. Dangle] - Upon my soul, the
women are the best judges after all!
Mrs. Dangle-Or if I made any objection, I am sure it was
to nothing in the piece! but that I was afraid it was, on the
whole, a little too long.


## p. 13359 (#165) ##########################################

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
13359
Sir Fretful-Pray, madam, do you speak as to duration of
time; or do you mean that the story is tediously spun out?
Mrs. Dangle-O Lud! no. I speak only with reference to
the usual length of acting plays.
Sir Fretful-Then I am very happy-very happy indeed;
because the play is a short play-a remarkably short play. I
should not venture to differ with a lady on a point of taste; but
on these occasions, the watch, you know, is the critic.
Mrs. Dangle-Then I suppose it must have been Mr. Dangle's
drawling manner of reading it to me.
Sir Fretful-Oh, if Mr. Dangle read it, that's quite another
But I assure you, Mrs. Dangle, the first evening you can
spare me three hours and a half, I'll undertake to read you the
whole from beginning to end, with the Prologue and Epilogue,
and allow time for the music between the acts.
Mrs. Dangle-I hope to see it on the stage next. [Exit.
Dangle - Well, Sir Fretful, I wish you may be able to get
rid as easily of the newspaper criticisms as you do of ours.
―――
------
Sir Fretful-The newspapers! Sir, they are the most villain-
ous - licentious—abominable — infernal · Not that I ever read
them! no! I make it a rule never to look into a newspaper.
Dangle- You are quite right; for it certainly must hurt an
author of delicate feelings to see the liberties they take.
Sir Fretful-No! quite the contrary: their abuse is in fact
the best panegyric. I like it of all things. An author's reputa-
tion is only in danger from their support.
Sneer - Why, that's true; and that attack now on you the
other day-
-
Sir Fretful-What? where?
Dangle-Ay, you mean in a paper of Thursday: it was com-
pletely ill-natured, to be sure.
Sir Fretful-Oh, so much the better. Ha ha ha! I
wouldn't have it otherwise.
Dangle-Certainly, it is only to be laughed at; for-
Sir Fretful-You don't happen to recollect what the fellow
said, do you?
Sneer - Pray, Dangle-Sir Fretful seems a little anxious—
Sir Fretful-O Lud, no! -anxious? — not I not the least.
I But one may as well hear, you know.
Dangle - Sneer, do you recollect? [Aside. ] Make out some
thing.
―


## p. 13360 (#166) ##########################################

13360
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
Sneer [aside, to Dangle]—I will. [Aloud. ] Yes, yes, I remem-
ber perfectly.
Sir Fretful-Well, and pray now-not that it signifies - what
might the gentleman say?
Sneer- Why, he roundly asserts that you have not the slight-
est invention or original genius whatever; though you are the
greatest traducer of all other authors living.
Sir Fretful-Ha! ha! ha! Very good!
Sneer That as to comedy, you have not one idea of your
own, he believes, even in your commonplace book; where stray
jokes and pilfered witticisms are kept with as much method as
the ledger of the Lost and Stolen Office.
―
――――
Sir Fretful-Ha! ha! ha! Very pleasant!
Sneer-Nay, that you are so unlucky as not to have the skill
even to steal with taste: but that you glean from the refuse of
obscure volumes, where more judicious plagiarists have been
before you; so that the body of your work is a composition of
dregs and sediments, like a bad tavern's worst wine.
Sir Fretful-Ha! ha!
Sneer In your most serious efforts, he says, your bombast
would be less intolerable, if the thoughts were ever suited to the
expression; but the homeliness of the sentiment stares through
the fantastic incumbrance of its fine language, like a clown in
one of the new uniforms!
_______
Sir Fretful-Ha! ha!
Sneer That your occasional tropes and flowers suit the gen-
eral coarseness of your style as tambour sprigs would a ground
of linsey-woolsey; while your imitations of Shakespeare resemble
the mimicry of Falstaff's page, and are about as near the stand-
ard of the original.
Sir Fretful-Ha!
-
Sneer-In short, that even the finest passages you steal are
of no service to you, for the poverty of your own language pre-
vents their assimilating; so that they lie on the surface like
lumps of marl on a barren moor, incumbering what it is not in
their power to fertilize!
Sir Fretful [after great agitation] — Now, another person
would be vexed at this.
Sneer-Oh! but I wouldn't have told you, only to divert you.
Sir Fretful-I know it-I am diverted. Ha! ha! ha! - not
the least invention! Ha! ha! ha! Very good! very good!


## p. 13361 (#167) ##########################################

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
13361
Sneer-Yes-no genius! Ha! ha! ha!
Dangle-A severe rogue! Ha! ha! But you are quite right,
Sir Fretful, never to read such nonsense.
Sir Fretful-To be sure,- for if there is anything to one's
praise, it is a foolish vanity to be gratified at it; and if it is
abuse - why, one is always sure to hear of it from one damned
good-natured friend or another!
ROLLA'S ADDRESS TO THE PERUVIAN WARRIORS
From Pizarro›
The scene represents the Temple of the Sun.
and Virgins of the Sun, discovered.
The High Priest, Priests,
A solemn march. Ataliba
and the Peruvian Warriors enter on one side; on the other Rolla,
Alonzo, and Cora with the Child.
TALIBA
Welcome, Alonzo! [To Rolla. ] Kinsman, thy hand!
A™ -[To Cora. ] Blessed be the object of the happy mother's
love.
-
we
Cora- May the sun bless the father of his people!
Ataliba-In the welfare of his children lives the happiness of
their king. Friends, what is the temper of our soldiers?
Rolla Such as becomes the cause which they support; their
cry is, Victory or death! our king, our country, and our God!
Ataliba-Thou, Rolla, in the hour of peril, hast been wont to
animate the spirit of their leaders, ere we proceed to consecrate
the banners which thy valor knows so well how to guard.
――
Rolla Yet never was the hour of peril near, when to inspire
them words were so little needed. My brave associates-partners
of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! -can Rolla's words add
vigor to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts? No!
You have judged, as I have, the foulness of the crafty plea by
which these bold invaders would delude you.
Your generous
spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war
like this, can animate their minds and ours. They, by a strange
frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule:
we, for our country, our altars, and our homes. They follow an
adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate:
serve a monarch whom we love-a God whom we adore.
Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress!
XXIII-836
――――――


## p. 13362 (#168) ##########################################

13362
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN
Whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship.
They boast they come but to improve our state, enlarge our
thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error! Yes: they will
give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the
slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protec-
tion; yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs-covering
and devouring them! They call on us to barter all of good we
have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something
better which they promise. Be our plain answer this:— The
throne we honor is the people's choice; the laws we reverence
are our brave fathers' legacy; the faith we follow teaches us to
live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of
bliss beyond the grave. Tell your invaders this; and tell them
too, we seek no change; and least of all, such change as they
would bring us.
[Loud shouts of the Peruvian Warriors. ]
Ataliba [embracing Rolla]—Now, holy friends, ever mindful
of these sacred truths, begin the sacrifice.
[A solemn procession commences. The Priests and Virgins arrange
themselves on either side of the altar, which the High Priest approaches,
and the solemnity begins. The invocation of the High Priest is followed by
the choruses of the Priests and Virgins. Fire from above lights upon the
altar. The whole assembly rise, and join in the thanksgiving. ]
Ataliba-Our offering is accepted. Now to arms, my friends;
prepare for battle!


## p. 13363 (#169) ##########################################

13363
JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
(1834-)
INETEENTH-CENTURY mysticism is the dominant quality in the
novels of John Henry Shorthouse.
The spirit which in-
formed the Tractarian movement, which produced 'The
Blessed Damozel' in poetry and 'Dante's Dream' in painting, pro-
duced in fiction John Inglesant' and 'The Countess Eve. ' It is a
spirit not wholly free from artificiality, because it is alien to the tem-
per of the times; yet it possesses fascination for those who prefer the
twilight passes of the world, leading perchance to the stars, above the
electric-lighted highway leading direct to a
city. It combines sensuousness with spirit-
uality, day-dreams with keen knowledge, the
Christianity of the Divine Comedy' with a
kind of pagan delight in the offerings of
earth.

JOHN H. SHORTHOUSE
'John Inglesant' is the best known of
Mr. Shorthouse's novels: it is also the most
perfect embodiment of this spirit of mysti-
cism in fiction. The hero, whose name gives
the title to the book, is a cavalier in the
court of King Charles the First. There is an
exquisite aroma about his character: he is a
gentleman and a saint, a courtier with the
soul of an anchorite. He adheres with scru-
pulous fidelity to the requirements of his order, yet he is haunted with
visions of the Divine life: he is a mystic and a man of the world. It
is the character of Inglesant which perhaps explains the fascination
of this novel for a certain class of modern readers. The present gen-
eration are pre-eminently children of the world. Science has made
it well-nigh ridiculous for men to do anything but turn to the best
advantage what is here and now. So they nurse their desire of the
impossible in secret; but they love its embodiment in fiction. John
Inglesant is a thoroughly modern creation. His environment of Re-
naissance Italy and Cavalier England is due to the tact of the author,
who perceived that the setting of this century for one who sees vis-
ions would be as incongruous in fiction as it is in actual life. The
Rossettis and the Cardinal Newmans must be placed in long-ago
beautiful years, if they would seem wholly natural.


## p. 13364 (#170) ##########################################

13364
JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
It is in John Inglesant that the temper of the author is most fully
expressed; and not of the author only, but of the poets, painters, and
others of his ilk. There is the sensitiveness to the loveliness of
nature; not the Wordsworthian spirit of philosophic detachment from
it, but a kind of sensuous union with it, making it partaker both
with the holy and unholy aspirations of men. When John Inglesant
kneels to receive the sacrament at the church of Little Gidding, he
is conscious of the "misty autumn sunlight and the sweeping autumn
wind," as part of the gracious influence surrounding him. When
he is tempted to ruin himself and another, he sees his evil passion
reflected in nature:-
"He gazed another moment over the illumined forest, which seemed trans-
figured in the moonlight and the stillness into an unreal landscape of the
dead. The poisonous mists crept over the tops of the cork-trees, and flitted
across the long vistas in spectral forms, cowled and shrouded for the grave.
Beneath the gloom, indistinct figures seemed to glide,-the personation of
the miasma that made the place so fatal to human life.
"He turned to enter the room; but even as he turned, a sudden change
came over the scene. The deadly glamour of the moonlight faded suddenly;
a calm, pale solemn light settled over the forest; the distant line of hills shone
out distinct and clear; the evil mystery of the place departed whence it came;
a fresh and cooling breeze sprang up and passed through the rustling wood,
breathing pureness and life. The dayspring was at hand in the Eastern sky. »
In his other novels, Sir Percival,' 'The Countess Eve,' 'Little
Schoolmaster Mark,' 'Blanche, Lady Falaise,' Mr. Shorthouse makes
similar use of nature. It is always the outward and visible sign of
man's inward and spiritual state. There is the same mystical con-
ception of human dwelling-places, as in a sense the houses of the
soul. The beautiful ducal house in Sir Percival,' the Renaissance
palace of the Duke of Umbria in John Inglesant,' is each express-
ive of the temperament of those who have dwelt therein. Archi-
tecture, to the mystic, is perhaps the most significant of all the arts.
Shorthouse makes use of it, as much as of nature, to embody the
mental moods of men. For music and musicians he has keen sym-
pathy. The Countess Eve' is built out of music; the keen, wild
sobbing music of the violin, its tremulous passion, its unutterable
aspiration. The Master of the Violin' is another story of the same
order. Music is constantly heard in 'John Inglesant' and in Sir
Percival. ' Shorthouse understands the value of music as Wagner
understood it,- as all mystics understand it. It is the embodiment
of all the senses; it is the embodiment of the soul.
As might be expected of a novelist who dwells in the half-seen
world, the characters of Mr. Shorthouse are less like human beings
than abstractions. John Inglesant is more of an ideal than of a


## p. 13365 (#171) ##########################################

JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
13365
man. Constance in 'Sir Percival' is a Giotto woman,-a pale prayer
only half clothed with humanity. The Countess Eve is delicate and
unreal; and no force of passion can give life to her. Yet to be with
these creations is to be in noble company. The idealism of their
author is inspiring and regenerating. It is all the more so because it
is clothed in very beautiful literary form. The style of 'John Ingle-
sant' is exquisitely fitted to the thought of the book. Its passionate
mysticism, its sense of the Unseen, its obedience to the Vision, make
of it a work which could ill be spared to an age productive of Zola.
Mr. Shorthouse was born in Birmingham, England, in 1834.
a manufacturer in his native city.
He is
INGLESANT VISITS MR. FERRAR'S RELIGIOUS COMMUNITY
From John Inglesant'
I
T WAS late in the autumn when he made this visit, about two
months before Mr. Ferrar's death. The rich autumn foliage
was lighted by the low sun, as he rode through the woods.
and meadows and across the sluggish streams of Bedford and
Huntingdon. He slept at a village a few miles south of Little
Gidding, and reached that place early in the day. It was a soli-
tary, wooded place, with a large manor-house, and a little church
close by. It had been for some time depopulated, and there were
no cottages nor houses near. The manor-house and church had
been restored to perfect order by Mr. Ferrar; and Inglesant
reached it through a grove of trees planted in walks, with lat-
ticed paths and gardens on both sides. A brook crossed the road
at the foot of the gentle ascent on which the house was built.
He asked to see Mr. Ferrar, and was shown by a man-servant
into a fair spacious parlor, where Mr. Ferrar presently came to
him. Inglesant was disappointed at his appearance, which was
plain and not striking in any way; but his speech was able
and attractive. Johnny apologized for his bold visit, telling him
how much taken he had been by his book, and by what he had
heard of him and his family; and that what he had heard did
not interest him merely out of curiosity, as he feared it might
have done many, but out of sincere desire to learn something
of the holy life which doubtless that family led. To this Mr.
Ferrar replied that he was thankful to see any one who came in
such a spirit; and that several not only of his own friends, — as
-


## p. 13366 (#172) ##########################################

13366
JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
Mr. Crashaw the poet,- but many young students from the Uni-
versity at Cambridge, came to see him in a like spirit; to the
benefit, he hoped, of both themselves and of him. He said with
great humility, that although on the one hand very much evil
had been spoken of him which was not true, he had no doubt
that on the other, many things had been said about their holi-
ness and the good that they did which went far beyond the truth.
For his own part, he said he had adopted that manner of life
through having long seen enough of the manners and vanities
of the world; and holding them in low esteem, was resolved to
spend the best of his life in mortifications and devotion, in char-
ity, and in constant preparation for death. That his mother, his
elder brother, his sisters, his nephews and nieces, being content
to lead this mortified life, they spent their time in acts of devo-
tion and by doing such good works as were within their power,
-such as keeping a school for the children of the next par-
ishes, for teaching of whom he provided three masters who lived
constantly in the house. That for ten years they had lived this
harmless life, under the care of his mother, who had trained her
daughters and granddaughters to every good work: but two years
ago they had lost her by death, and as his health was very feeble
he did not expect long to be separated from her; but looked for-
ward to his departure with joy, being afraid of the evil times he
saw approaching.
When he had said this, he led Inglesant into a large hand-
some room up-stairs, where he introduced him to his sister, Mrs.
Collet, and her daughters, who were engaged in making those
curious books of Scripture Harmonies which had so pleased King
Charles. These seven young ladies - who formed the junior
part of the Society of the house, and were called by the names
of the chief virtues, the Patient, the Cheerful, the Affectionate,
the Submiss, the Obedient, the Moderate, the Charitable - were
engaged at that moment in cutting out passages from two Tes-
taments, which they pasted together so neatly as to seem one
book, and in such a manner as to enable the reader to follow the
narrative in all its particulars from beginning to end without a
break, and also to see which of the sacred authors had contrib-
uted any particular part.
Inglesant told the ladies what fame reported of the nuns of
Gidding of two watching and praying all night; of their canon-
ical hours; of their crosses on the outside and inside of their


## p. 13367 (#173) ##########################################

JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
13367
chapel; of an altar there richly decked with plate, tapestry, and
tapers; of their adoration and genuflexions at their entering. He
told Mr. Ferrar that his object in visiting him was chiefly to
know his opinion of the papists and their religion; as having
been bred among them himself and being very nearly one of
them, he was anxious to know the opinions of one who was said
to hold many of their doctrines without joining them or approv-
ing them. Mr. Ferrar appeared at first shy of speaking: but
being apparently convinced of the young man's sincerity, and
that he was not an enemy in disguise, he conversed very freely
with him for some time, speaking much of the love of God, and
of the vanity of worldly things; of his dear friend Mr. George
Herbert, and of his saintly life; of the confused and troublesome
life he had formerly led, and of the great peace and satisfaction
which he had found since he had left the world and betaken
himself to that retired and religious life. That as regards the
papists, his translating Valdessa's book was a proof that he knew
that among them, as among all people, there were many true
worshipers of Jesus, being drawn by the blessed sacrament to
follow him in the spiritual and divine life; and that there were
many things in that book similar to the mystical religion of
which Inglesant spoke, which his dear friend Mr. George Herbert
had disapproved, as exalting the inward spiritual life above the
foundation of holy Scripture; that it was not for him, who was
only a deacon in the church, to pronounce any opinion on so dif-
ficult a point, and that he had printed all Mr. Herbert's notes in
his book, without comment of his own; that though he was thus
unwilling to give his own judgment, he certainly believed that
this inward spiritual life was open to all men, and recommended
Inglesant to continue his endeavors after it, seeking it chiefly
in the holy sacrament accompanied with mortification and confes-
sion.
While they were thus talking, the hour of evening prayer
arrived, and Mr. Ferrar invited Johnny to accompany him to the
church; which he gladly did, being very much attracted by the
evident holiness which pervaded Mr. Ferrar's talk and manner.
The family proceeded to church in procession, Mr. Ferrar and
Inglesant walking first. The church was kept in great order;
the altar being placed upon a raised platform at the east end,
and covered with tapestry stretching over the floor all round it,
and adorned with plate and tapers. Mr. Ferrar bowed with great


## p. 13368 (#174) ##########################################

13368
JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
reverence several times on approaching the altar, and directed
Inglesant to sit in a stalled seat opposite the reading-pew, from
which he said the evening prayer. The men of the family knelt
on the raised step before the altar, the ladies and servants sitting
in the body of the church. The church was very sweet, being
decked with flowers and herbs, and the soft autumn light rested
over it. From the seat where Inglesant knelt, he could see the
faces of the girls as they bent over their books at prayers. They
were all in black, except one, who wore a friar's gray gown; this
was the one who was called the Patient, as Inglesant had been
told in the house, and the singularity of her dress attracted his
eye towards her during the prayers. The whole scene, strange
and romantic as it appeared to him, the devout and serious
manner of the worshipers, very different from much that was
common in churches at that day, and the abstracted and devout
look upon the faces of the girls,-struck his fancy, so liable
to such influences and so long trained to welcome them; and he
could not keep his eyes from this one face, from which the gray
hood was partly thrown back. It was a passive face, with well-
cut delicate features and large and quiet eyes.
Prayers being over, the ladies saluted Inglesant from a dis-
tance, and left the church with the rest, in the same order as
they had come, leaving Mr. Ferrar and Johnny alone. They re-
mained some time discoursing on worship and church ceremonies,
and then returned to the house. It was now late, and Mr. Ferrar,
who was evidently much pleased with his guest, invited him to
stay the night, and even extended his hospitality by asking him
to stay over the next, which was Saturday, and the Sunday; upon
which, as it was the first Sunday in the month, the holy sacra-
ment would be administered, and several of Mr. Ferrar's friends
from Cambridge would come over and partake of it, and to pass
the night and day in prayer and acts of devotion. To this propo-
sition Inglesant gladly consented; the whole proceeding appearing
to him full of interest and attraction. Soon after they returned
to the house, supper was served, all the family sitting down to-
gether at a long table in the hall. During supper some portion
of Fox's Book of the Martyrs' was read aloud. Afterwards two
hours were permitted for diversion, during which all were allowed
to do as they pleased.
The young ladies, having found out that Inglesant was a
queen's page, were very curious to hear of the court and royal
16


## p. 13369 (#175) ##########################################

JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
13369
family from him; which innocent request Mr. Ferrar encouraged,
and joined in himself. One reason of the success with which his
mother and he had ruled this household appears to have been his
skill in interesting and attracting all its inmates by the variety
and pleasant character of their occupations. He was also much.
interested himself in what Johnny told him,- for in this se-
cluded family, themselves accustomed to prudence, Inglesant felt
he might safely speak of many things upon which he was gen-
erally silent: and after prayers, when the family were retired to
their several rooms, Mr. Ferrar remained with him some time,
while Johnny related to him the aspect of religious parties at
the moment; and particularly all that he could tell, without vio-
lating confidence, of the papists and of his friend the Jesuit.
The next morning they rose at four; though two of the fam-
ily had been at prayer all night, and did not go to rest till the
others rose. They went into the oratory in the house itself to
prayers, for they kept six times of prayer during the day. At
six they said the psalms of the hour,- for every hour had its
appropriate psalms, and at half past six went to church for
matins. When they returned at seven o'clock, they said the
psalm of the hour, sang a short hymn, and went to breakfast.
After breakfast, when the younger members of the family were
at their studies, Mr. Ferrar took Inglesant to the school where
all the children in the neighborhood were permitted to come.
At eleven they went to dinner; and after dinner there was no
settled occupation till one, every one being allowed to amuse
himself as he chose. The young ladies had been trained not
only to superintend the house, but to wait on any sick persons
in the neighborhood who came to the house at certain times for
assistance, and to dress the wounds of those who were hurt, in
order to give them readiness and skill in this employment, and
to habituate them to the virtues of humility and tenderness of
heart. A large room was set apart for this purpose, where Mr.
Ferrar had instructed them in the necessary skill; having been
himself Physic Fellow at Clare Hall in Cambridge, and under
the celebrated professors at Padua, in Italy. This room Inglesant
requested to see, thinking that he should in this way also see
something of and be able to speak to the young ladies, whose
acquaintance he had hitherto not had much opportunity of culti-
vating. Mr. Ferrar told his nephew to show it him-young
Nicholas Ferrar, a young man of extraordinary skill in languages,


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JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
who was afterwards introduced to the King and Prince Charles,
some time before his early death.
When they entered the room, Inglesant was delighted to find
that the only member of the family there was the young lady
in the gray friar's habit, whose face had attracted him so much
in church. She was listening to the long tiresome tale of an old
woman; following the example of George Herbert, who thought
on a similar occasion, that "it was some relief to a poor body to
be heard with patience. " Johnny, who in spite of his Jesuit-
ical and court training was naturally modest, and whose sense
of religion made him perfectly well-bred, accosted the young lady
very seriously, and expressed his gratitude at having been per-
mitted to stay and see so many excellent and improving things.
as that family had to show. The liking which the head of the
house had evidently taken for Inglesant disposed the younger
members in his favor, and the young lady answered him simply
and unaffectedly, but with manifest pleasure.
Inglesant inquired concerning the assumed names of the sis-
ters, and how they sustained their respective qualities, and what
exercises suited to these qualities they had to perform. She
replied that they had exercises, or discourses, which they per-
formed at the great festivals of the year, Christmas and Easter;
and which were composed with reference to their several quali-
ties. All of these, except her own, were enlivened by hymns
and odes composed by Mr. Ferrar, and set to music by the music-
master of the family, who accompanied the voices with the viol
or the lute. But her own, she said, had never any music or
poetry connected with it: it was always of a very serious turn,
and much longer than any other, and had not any historical
anecdote or fable interwoven with it; the contrivance being to
exercise that virtue to which she was devoted. Inglesant asked
her with pity if this was not very hard treatment; and she only
replied, with a smile, that she had the enjoyment of all the lively
performances of the others.
He asked her whether they looked forward to passing all their
lives in this manner, or whether they allowed the possibility of
any change; and if she had entirely lost her own name in her
assumed one, or whether he might presume to ask it, that he
might have wherewithal to remember her by, as he surely should
as long as he had life. She said her name was Mary Collet;
and that as to his former question, two of her sisters had had, at


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JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
13371
one time, a great desire to become veiled virgins,-to take
upon them a vow of perpetual chastity, with the solemnity of at
bishop's blessing and ratification, but on going to Bishop Will-
iams he had discouraged and at last dissuaded them from it.
Inglesant and the young lady remained talking in this way.
for some time, young Nicholas Ferrar having left them; but
at last she excused herself from staying any longer, and he was
obliged to let her go. He ventured to say that he hoped they
would remember him; that he was utterly ignorant of the future
that lay before him, but that whatever fate awaited him, he
should never forget the "Nuns of Gidding" and their religious
life. She replied that they would certainly remember him, as
they did all their acquaintances, in their daily prayer; especially
as she had seldom seen her uncle so pleased with a stranger as
he had been with him. With these compliments they parted, and
Inglesant returned to the drawing-room, where more visitors had
arrived.
In the afternoon there came from Cambridge Mr. Crashaw
the poet, of Peterhouse,- who afterwards went over to the pap-
ists, and died canon of Loretto,—and several gentlemen, under-
graduates of Cambridge, to spend the Sunday at Gidding, being
the first Sunday of the month. Mr. Crashaw, when Inglesant was
introduced to him as one of the queen's pages, finding that he
was acquainted with many Roman Catholics, was very friendly,
and conversed with him apart. He said he conceived a great
admiration for the devout lives of the Catholic saints, and of the
government and discipline of the Catholic Church; and that he
feared that the English Church had not sufficient authority to
resist the spread of Presbyterianism, in which case he saw no
safety except in returning to the communion of Rome. Walking
up and down the garden paths, after evening prayers in church,
he spoke a great deal on this subject, and on the beauty of a
retired religious life; saying that here at Little Gidding and at
Little St. Marie's Church, near to Peterhouse, he had passed the
most blissful moments of his life, watching at midnight in prayer
and meditation.
That night Mr. Crashaw, Inglesant, and one or two others,
remained in the church from nine till twelve, during which time.
they said over the whole Book of Psalms in the way of antiph-
ony, one repeating one verse and the rest the other. The time
of their watch being ended they returned to the house, went to


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13372
JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
Mr. Ferrar's door and bade him good-morrow, leaving a lighted.
candle for him. They then went to bed; but Mr. Ferrar arose,
according to the passage of Scripture "At midnight I will arise
and give thanks," and went into the church, where he betook
himself to religious meditation.
Early on the Sunday morning the family were astir and said
prayers in the oratory. After breakfast many people from the
country around, and more than a hundred children, came in.
These children were called the Psalm children, and were regu-
larly trained to repeat the Psalter, and the best voices among
them to assist in the service on Sundays. They came in every
Sunday, and according to the proficiency of each were presented
with a small piece of money, and the whole number entertained
with a dinner after church. The church was crowded at the
morning service before the sacrament. The service was beau-
tifully sung, the whole family taking the greatest delight in
church music, and many of the gentlemen from Cambridge being
amateurs. The sacrament was administered with the greatest
devotion and solemnity. Impressed as he had been with the
occupation of the preceding day and night, and his mind excited
with watching and want of sleep and with the exquisite strains.
of the music, the effect upon Inglesant's imaginative nature was
excessive.
Above the altar, which was profusely bedecked with flowers,
the antique glass of the east window, which had been carefully
repaired, contained a figure of the Savior, of an early and se-
vere type. The form was gracious and yet commanding, having
a brilliant halo round the head, and being clothed in a long
and apparently seamless coat; the two forefingers of the right
hand were held up to bless. Kneeling upon the half-pace, as
he received the sacred bread and tasted the holy wine, this gra-
cious figure entered into Inglesant's soul; and stillness and peace
unspeakable, and life, and light, and sweetness, filled his mind.
He was lost in a sense of rapture; and earth and all that sur-
rounded him faded away. When he returned a little to himself,
kneeling in his seat in the church, he thought that at no period
of his life, however extended, should he ever forget that morn-
ing, or lose the sense and feeling of that touching scene, of
that gracious figure over the altar, of the bowed and kneeling
figures, of the misty autumn sunlight and the sweeping autumn
wind. Heaven itself seemed to have opened to him, and one


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JOHN HENRY SHORTHOUSE
13373
fairer than the fairest of the angelic hosts to have come down
to earth.
After the service, the family and all the visitors returned to
the mansion house in the order in which they had come, and the
Psalm children were entertained with a dinner in the great hall;
all the family and visitors came in to see them served, and Mrs.
Collet, as her mother had always done, placed the first dish on
the table herself to give an example of humility. Grace having
been said, the bell rang for the dinner of the family, who, together
with the visitors, repaired to the great dining-room, and stood in
order round the table. While the dinner was being served, they
sang a hymn accompanied by the organ at the upper end of the
room. Then grace was said by the priest who had celebrated
the communion, and they sat down. All the servants who had
received the sacrament that day sat at table with the rest. Dur-
ing dinner, one of the young people whose turn it was read a
chapter from the Bible; and when that was finished, conversa-
tion was allowed,- Mr. Ferrar and some of the other gentlemen
endeavoring to make it of a character suitable to the day, and
to the service they had just taken part in. After dinner they
went to church again for evening prayer; between which service
and supper, Inglesant had some talk with Mr. Ferrar concerning
the papists, and Mr. Crashaw's opinion of them.
"I ought to be a fit person to advise you," said Mr. Ferrar
with a melancholy smile, "for I am myself, as it were, crushed
between the upper and nether millstone of contrary reports; for
I suffer equal obloquy- and no martyrdom is worse than that of
continual obloquy - both for being a papist and a Puritan. You
will suppose there must be some strong reason why I, who value
so many things among the papists so much, have not joined them
myself.