Page:Sylvester Sound the Somnambulist (1844).djvu/365

dom!' there's another opportunity. You have but to mark the note flat over the word, and there you are. But the thing might be studded with musical effects: and I submit that, as he has presented us with the song, we ought, as a matter of courtesy, to present him with the music."

"We shall have Mr. Rouse here before we have finished breakfast. I know that we shall."

"You are right: here he is," said Sylvester, as the reverend gentleman passed through the gate, and Aunt Eleanor felt—as she always did feel when he first appeared—somewhat confused.

As soon as the first cordial greeting was over, Sylvester said, "I have received a letter this morning."

"Containing some good news, I hope," observed the reverend gentleman, anxiously.

"Why it contains no bad news."

"I'm happy to hear it."

"Do you like poetry?"

"I am very fond of poetry: the poetry of the Scriptures, especially: there's a great deal of poetry in the Scriptures, and that, too, of the most sublime character. David's lament, for example, in the first chapter of the Second Book of Samuel, is beautiful, and touching in the extreme:—'The beauty of Israel is slain!' and again, 'Ye mountains of Gilboa let there be no more dew: neither let there be rain upon you, nor fields of offerings: for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan turned not back, and the sword of Saul returned not empty. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided: they were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions.' And then the conclusion, 'How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle! O, Jonathan, thou wast slain in thine high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan: very pleasant hast thou been unto me: thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!'"

The fervour and solemnity with which these beautiful passages were delivered, prompted Sylvester to put Obadiah's communication into his pocket.

"This," continued the reverend gentleman, "is but one example: the Scriptures are studded with gems equally sublime. But why did you ask if I were a lover of poetry?"

"Because I have a piece to show you: but it is of so different a character that I must defer it for a time."

"Why not show it to me now—without variety what were life? It is perhaps a laughable piece? Well, I can weep with David or laugh with Swift. What is the nature of it—let me see it now? But first—and this is perhaps of more importance—you said you had had a letter: what was that?"

"That and the poetry are intimately connected—they come from the same source. The letter, in fact, has reference to the poetry."