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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395900" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tale XIV</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A serious Toyman in the city dwelt,<br>Who much concern for his religion felt;<br>Reading, he changed his tenets, read again,<br>And various questions could with skill maintain;<br>Papist and Quaker if we set aside,<br>He had the road of every traveller tried;<br>There walk'd a while, and on a sudden turn'd<br>Into some by-way he had just discern'd:<br>He had a nephew, Fulham: --Fulham went<br>His Uncle's way, with every turn content;<br>He saw his pious kinsman's watchful care,<br>And thought such anxious pains his own might spare,<br>And he the truth obtain'd, without the toil, might </div><div style="margin:10px 0">share.<br>In fact, young Fulham, though he little read,<br>Perceived his uncle was by fancy led;<br>And smiled to see the constant care he took,<br>Collating creed with creed, and book with book.<br>At length the senior fix'd; I pass the sect<br>He call'd a Church, 'twas precious and elect;<br>Yet the seed fell not in the richest soil,<br>For few disciples paid the preacher's toil;<br>All in an attic room were wont to meet,<br>These few disciples, at their pastor's feet;<br>With these went Fulham, who, discreet and grave,<br>Follow'd the light his worthy uncle gave;<br>Till a warm Preacher found the way t'impart<br>Awakening feelings to his torpid heart:<br>Some weighty truths, and of unpleasant kind,<br>Sank, though resisted, in his struggling mind:<br>He wish'd to fly them, but, compell'd to stay,<br>Truth to the waking Conscience found her way;<br>For though the Youth was call'd a prudent lad,<br>And prudent was, yet serious faults he had -<br>Who now reflected--'Much am I surprised;<br>I find these notions cannot be despised:<br>No! there is something I perceive at last,<br>Although my uncle cannot hold it fast;<br>Though I the strictness of these men reject,<br>Yet I determine to be circumspect:<br>This man alarms me, and I must begin<br>To look more closely to the things within:<br>These sons of zeal have I derided long,<br>But now begin to think the laugher's wrong!<br>Nay, my good uncle, by all teachers moved,<br>Will be preferr'd to him who none approved; -<br>Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.'<br>Such were his thoughts, when Conscience first </div><div style="margin:10px 0">began<br>To hold close converse with th' awaken'd man:<br>He from that time reserved and cautious grew,<br>And for his duties felt obedience due;<br>Pious he was not, but he fear'd the pain<br>Of sins committed, nor would sin again:<br>Whene'er he stray'd, he found his Conscience rose,<br>Like one determined what was ill t'oppose,<br>What wrong t'accuse, what secret to disclose;<br>To drag forth every latent act to light,<br>And fix them fully in the actor's sight:<br>This gave him trouble, but he still confess'd<br>The labour useful, for it brought him rest.<br>The Uncle died, and when the Nephew read<br>The will, and saw the substance of the dead -<br>Five hundred guineas, with a stock in trade -<br>He much rejoiced, and thought his fortune made;<br>Yet felt aspiring pleasure at the sight,<br>And for increase, increasing appetite;<br>Desire of profit idle habits check'd<br>(For Fulham's virtue was to be correct);<br>He and his Conscience had their compact made -<br>'Urge me with truth, and you will soon persuade;<br>But not,' he cried, 'for mere ideal things<br>Give me to feel those terror-breeding stings.'<br>'Let not such thoughts,' she said, 'your mind </div><div style="margin:10px 0">confound;<br>Trifles may wake me, but they never wound;<br>In them indeed there is a wrong and right,<br>But you will find me pliant and polite;<br>Not like a Conscience of the dotard kind,<br>Awake to dreams, to dire offences blind:<br>Let all within be pure, in all beside<br>Be your own master, governor, and guide;<br>Alive to danger, in temptation strong,<br>And I shall sleep our whole existence long.'<br>'Sweet be thy sleep,' said Fulham; 'strong must </div><div style="margin:10px 0">be<br>The tempting ill that gains access to me:<br>Never will I to evil deed consent;<br>Or, if surprised, oh! how will I repent!<br>Should gain be doubtful, soon would I restore<br>The dangerous good, or give it to the poor;<br>Repose for them my growing wealth shall buy,<br>Or build--who knows?--an hospital like Guy.<br>Yet why such means to soothe the smart within,<br>While firmly purposed to renounce the sin?'<br>Thus our young Trader and his Conscience dwelt<br>In mutual love, and great the joy they felt;<br>But yet in small concerns, in trivial things,<br>'She was,' he said, 'too ready with the stings;'<br>And he too apt, in search of growing gains,<br>To lose the fear of penalties and pains:<br>Yet these were trifling bickerings, petty jars,<br>Domestic strifes, preliminary wars;<br>He ventured little, little she express'd<br>Of indignation, and they both had rest.<br>Thus was he fix d to walk the worthy way,<br>When profit urged him to a bold essay: -<br>A time was that when all at pleasure gamed<br>In lottery chances, yet a law unblamed:<br>This Fulham tried; who would to him advance<br>A pound or crown, he gave in turn a chance<br>For weighty prize--and should they nothing share,<br>They had their crown or pound in Fulham's ware;<br>Thus the old stores within the shop were sold<br>For that which none refuses, new or old.<br>Was this unjust? yet Conscience could not rest,<br>But made a mighty struggle in the breast,<br>And gave th' aspiring man an early proof<br>That should they war he would have work enough:<br>'Suppose,' said she, 'your vended numbers rise<br>The same with those which gain each real prize,<br>(Such your proposal), can you ruin shun?' -<br>'A hundred thousand,' he replied, 'to one.'<br>'Still it may happen.'--'I the sum must pay.'<br>'You know you cannot.'--'I can run away.'<br>'That is dishonest.'--'Nay, but you must wink<br>At a chance hit: it cannot be, I think.<br>Upon my conduct as a whole decide,<br>Such trifling errors let my virtues hide.<br>Fail I at meeting? am I sleepy there?<br>My purse refuse I with the priest to share?<br>Do I deny the poor a helping hand?<br>Or stop the wicked women in the Strand?<br>Or drink at club beyond a certain pitch?<br>Which are your charges? Conscience, tell me </div><div style="margin:10px 0">which?'<br>''Tis well,' said she, 'but--' 'Nay, I pray, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">have done:<br>Trust me, I will not into danger run.'<br>The lottery drawn, not one demand was made;<br>Fulham gain'd profit and increase of trade.<br>'See now,' said he--for Conscience yet arose -<br>'How foolish 'tis such measures to oppose:<br>Have I not blameless thus my state advanced?'<br>'Still,' mutter'd Conscience, 'still it might have </div><div style="margin:10px 0">chanced.'<br>'Might!' said our hero: 'who is so exact<br>As to inquire what might have been a fact?'<br>Now Fulham's shop contain'd a curious view<br>Of costly trifles, elegant and new:<br>The papers told where kind mammas might buy<br>The gayest toys to charm an infant's eye;<br>Where generous beaux might gentle damsels please,<br>And travellers call who cross the land or seas,<br>And find the curious art, the neat device,<br>Of precious value and of trifling price.<br>Here Conscience rested, she was pleased to find<br>No less an active than an honest mind;<br>But when he named his price, and when he swore<br>His Conscience check'd him that he ask'd no more,<br>When half he sought had been a large increase<br>On fair demand, she could not rest in peace;<br>(Beside th' affront to call th' adviser in,<br>Who would prevent, to justify the sin):<br>She therefore told him that 'he vainly tried<br>To soothe her anger, conscious that he lied;<br>If thus he grasp'd at such usurious gains,<br>He must deserve, and should expect her pains.'<br>The charge was strong; he would in part confess<br>Offence there was--But, who offended less?<br>'What! is a mere assertion call'd a lie?<br>And if it be, are men compell'd to buy?<br>'Twas strange that Conscience on such points should </div><div style="margin:10px 0">dwell,<br>While he was acting (he would call it) well;<br>He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;<br>There was no fraud, and he demanded cause<br>Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?'<br>'My laws!' said Conscience. 'What,' said he, '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">are thine?<br>Oral or written, human or divine?<br>Show me the chapter, let me see the text;<br>By laws uncertain subjects are perplex'd:<br>Let me my finger on the statute lay,<br>And I shall feel it duty to obey.'<br>'Reflect,' said Conscience, ''twas your own </div><div style="margin:10px 0">desire<br>That I should warn you--does the compact tire?<br>Repent you this?--then bid me not advise,<br>And rather hear your passions as they rise:<br>So you may counsel and remonstrance shun;<br>But then remember it is war begun;<br>And you may judge from some attacks, my friend,<br>What serious conflicts will on war attend.'<br>'Nay, but,' at length the thoughtful man </div><div style="margin:10px 0">replied,<br>'I say not that; I wish you for my guide;<br>Wish for your checks and your reproofs--but then<br>Be like a conscience of my fellow-men;<br>Worthy I mean, and men of good report,<br>And not the wretches who with Conscience sport:<br>There's Bice, my friend, who passes off his grease<br>Of pigs for bears', in pots a crown apiece;<br>His Conscience never checks him when he swears<br>The fat he sells is honest fat of bears;<br>And so it is, for he contrives to give<br>A drachm to each--'tis thus that tradesmen live;<br>Now why should you and I be over-nice?<br>What man is held in more repute than Bice?'<br>Here ended the dispute; but yet 'twas plain<br>The parties both expected strife again:<br>Their friendship cool'd, he look'd about and saw<br>Numbers who seem'd unshackled by his awe;<br>While like a schoolboy he was threatened still,<br>Now for the deed, now only for the will:<br>Here Conscience answered 'To thy neighbour's guide<br>Thy neighbour leave, and in thine own confide.'<br>Such were each day the charges and replies,<br>When a new object caught the trader's eyes;<br>A Vestry-patriot, could he gain the name,<br>Would famous make him, and would pay the fame.<br>He knew full well the sums bequeath'd in charge<br>For schools, for almsmen, for the poor, were large;<br>Report had told, and he could feel it true,<br>That most unfairly dealt the trusted few;<br>No partners would they in their office take,<br>Nor clear accounts at annual meetings make.<br>Aloud our hero in the vestry spoke<br>Of hidden deeds, and vow'd to draw the cloak;<br>It was the poor man's cause, and he for one<br>Was quite determined to see justice done:<br>His foes affected, laughter, then disdain,<br>They too were Ioud; and threat'ning, but in vain;<br>The pauper's friend, their foe, arose and spoke </div><div style="margin:10px 0">again;<br>Fiercely he cried, 'Your garbled statements show<br>That you determine we shall nothing know;<br>But we shall bring your hidden crimes to light,<br>Give you to shame, and to the poor their right.'<br>Virtue like this might some approval ask -<br>But Conscience sternly said, 'You wear a mask!'<br>'At least,' said Fulham, 'if I have a view<br>To serve myself, I serve the public too.'<br>Fulham, though check'd, retain'd his former </div><div style="margin:10px 0">zeal,<br>And this the cautious rogues began to feel:<br>'Thus will he ever bark,' in peevish tone<br>An elder cried--'the cur must have a bone.'<br>They then began to hint, and to begin<br>Was all they needed--it was felt within:<br>In terms less veil'd an offer then was made;<br>Though distant still, it fail'd not to persuade:<br>More plainly then was every point proposed,<br>Approved, accepted, and the bargain closed.<br>The exulting paupers hail'd their Friend's success,<br>And bade adieu to murmurs and distress.<br>Alas! their Friend had now superior light,<br>And, view'd by that, he found that all was right;<br>'There were no errors, the disbursements small;<br>This was the truth, and truth was due to all.'<br>And rested Conscience? No! she would not rest,<br>Yet was content with making a protest:<br>Some acts she now with less resistance bore,<br>Nor took alarm so quickly as before:<br>Like those in towns besieged, who every ball<br>At first with terror view, and dread them all;<br>But, grown familiar with the scenes, they fear<br>The clanger less, as it approaches near;<br>So Conscience, more familiar with the view<br>Of growing evils, less attentive grew:<br>Yet he, who felt some pain and dreaded more,<br>Gave a peace-offering to the angry poor.<br>Thus had he quiet--but the time was brief;<br>From his new triumph sprang a cause of grief;<br>In office join'd, and acting with the rest,<br>He must admit the sacramental test.<br>Now, as a sectary, he had all his life,<br>As he supposed, been with the Church at strife: -<br>No rules of hers, no laws had he perused,<br>Nor knew the tenets he by rote abused;<br>Yet Conscience here arose more fierce and strong<br>Than when she told of robbery and wrong.<br>'Change his religion! No! he must be sure<br>That was a blow no Conscience eould endure.'<br>Though friend to Virtue, yet she oft abides<br>In early notions, fix'd by erring guides;<br>And is more startled by a call from those,<br>Than when the foulest crimes her rest oppose:<br>By error taught, by prejudice misled,<br>She yields her rights, and Fancy rules instead;<br>When Conscience all her stings and terror deals,<br>Not as Truth dictates, but as Fancy feels:<br>And thus within our hero's troubled breast,<br>Crime was less torture than the odious test.<br>New forms, new measures, he must now embrace,<br>With sad conviction that they warr'd with grace;<br>To his new church no former friend would come,<br>They scarce preferr'd her to the Church of Rome;<br>But thinking much, and weighing guilt and gain,<br>Conscience and he commuted for her pain;<br>Then promised Fulham to retain his creed,<br>And their peculiar paupers still to feed;<br>Their attic-room (in secret) to attend,<br>And not forget he was the preacher's friend:<br>Thus he proposed, and Conscience, troubled, tried,<br>And wanting peace, reluctantly complied.<br>Now, care subdued, and apprehensions gone,<br>In peace our hero went aspiring on;<br>But short the period--soon a quarrel rose,<br>Fierce in the birth, and fatal in the close;<br>With times of truce between, which rather proved<br>That both were weary, than that either loved.<br>Fulham e'en now disliked the heavy thrall,<br>And for her death would in his anguish call,<br>As Rome's mistaken friend exclaimed, 'Let Carthage </div><div style="margin:10px 0">fall,'<br>So felt our hero, so his wish express'd,<br>Against this powerful sprite--delenda est:<br>Rome in her conquest saw not danger near,<br>Freed from her rival and without a fear;<br>So, Conscience conquer'd, men perceive how free,<br>But not how fatal, such a state must be.<br>Fatal, not free, our hero's; foe or friend,<br>Conscience on him was destined to attend:<br>She dozed indeed, grew dull, nor seem'd to spy<br>Crime following crime, and each of deeper dye;<br>But all were noticed, and the reckoning time<br>With her account came on--crime following crime.<br>This, once a foe, now Brother in the Trust,<br>Whom Fulham late described as fair and just,<br>Was the sole Guardian of a wealthy maid,<br>Placed in his power, and of his frown afraid:<br>Not quite an idiot, for her busy brain<br>Sought, by poor cunning, trifling points to gain;<br>Success in childish projects her delight,<br>She took no heed of each important right.<br>The friendly parties met--the Guardian cried,<br>'I am too old; my sons have each a bride:<br>Martha, my ward, would make an easy wife:<br>On easy terms I'll make her yours for life;<br>And then the creature is so weak and mild.<br>She may be soothed and threaten'd as a child.'<br>'Yet not obey,' said Fulham, 'for your fools,<br>Female and male, are obstinate as mules.'<br>Some points adjusted, these new friends agreed,<br>Proposed the day, and hurried on the deed.<br>''Tis a vile act,' said Conscience. 'It will </div><div style="margin:10px 0">prove,'<br>Replied the bolder man, 'an act of love:<br>Her wicked guardian might the girl have sold<br>To endless misery for a tyrant's gold;<br>Now may her life be happy--for I mean<br>To keep my temper even and serene.'<br>'I cannot thus compound,' the spirit cried,<br>'Nor have my laws thus broken and defied:<br>This is a fraud, a bargain for a wife;<br>Expect my vengeance, or amend your life.'<br>The Wife was pretty, trifling, childish, weak;<br>She could not think, but would not cease to speak.<br>This he forbade--she took the caution ill,<br>And boldly rose against his sovereign will;<br>With idiot-cunning she would watch the hour,<br>When friends were present, to dispute his power:<br>With tyrant-craft, he then was still and calm,<br>But raised in private terror and alarm:<br>By many trials, she perceived how far<br>To vex and tease, without an open war;<br>And he discovered that so weak a mind<br>No art could lead, and no compulsion bind;<br>The rudest force would fail such mind to tame,<br>And she was callous to rebuke and shame;<br>Proud of her wealth, the power of law she knew,<br>And would assist him in the spending too:<br>His threat'ning words with insult she defied,<br>To all his reasoning with a stare replied;<br>And when he begg'd her to attend, would say,<br>'Attend I will--but let me have my way.'<br>Nor rest had Conscience: 'While you merit pain<br>From me,' she cried, 'you seek redress in vain.'<br>His thoughts were grievous: 'All that I possess<br>From this vile bargain adds to my distress;<br>To pass a life with one who will not mend,<br>Who cannot love, nor save, nor wisely spend,<br>Is a vile prospect, and I see no end:<br>For if we part, I must of course restore<br>Much of her money, and must wed no more.<br>'Is there no way?'--Here Conscience rose in </div><div style="margin:10px 0">power, -<br>'Oh! fly the danger of this fatal hour;<br>I am thy Conscience, faithful, fond, and true:<br>Ah, fly this thought, or evil must ensue;<br>Fall on thy knees, and pray with all thy soul,<br>Thy purpose banish, thy design control:<br>Let every hope of such advantage cease,<br>Or never more expect a moment's peace.'<br>Th' affrighten'd man a due attention paid,<br>Felt the rebuke, and the command obey'd.<br>Again the wife rebell'd, again express'd<br>A love for pleasure--a contempt of rest;<br>'She whom she pleased would visit, would receive<br>Those who pleased her, nor deign to ask for leave.'<br>'One way there is,' said he; 'I might contrive<br>Into a trap this foolish thing to drive:<br>Who pleased her, said she?--I'll be certain who.'<br>'Take heed,' said Conscience 'what thou mean'st to </div><div style="margin:10px 0">do;<br>Ensnare thy wife?'--'Why, yes,' he must confess,<br>'It might be wrong, but there was no redress;<br>Beside to think,' said he, 'is not to sin.'<br>'Mistaken man!' replied the power within.<br>No guest unnoticed to the lady came,<br>He judged th' event with mingled joy and shame;<br>Oft he withdrew, and seem'd to leave her free,<br>But still as watchful as a lynx was he;<br>Meanwhile the wife was thoughtless, cool, and gay,<br>And, without virtue, had no wish to stray.<br>Though thus opposed, his plans were not </div><div style="margin:10px 0">resign'd;<br>'Revenge,' said he, 'will prompt that daring mind;<br>Refused supplies, insulted and distress'd,<br>Enraged with me, and near a favourite guest -<br>Then will her vengeance prompt the daring deed,<br>And I shall watch, detect her, and be freed.'<br>There was a youth--but let me hide the name,<br>With all the progress of this deed of shame;<br>He had his views--on him the husband cast<br>His net, and saw him in his trammels fast.<br>'Pause but a moment--think what you intend,'<br>Said the roused Sleeper: 'I am yet a friend.<br>Must all our days in enmity be spent?'<br>'No!' and he paused--'I surely shall repent:'<br>Then hurried on--the evil plan was laid,<br>The wife was guilty, and her friend betray'd,<br>And Fulham gain'd his wish, and for his will was </div><div style="margin:10px 0">paid.<br>Had crimes less weighty on the spirit press'd,<br>This troubled Conscience might have sunk to rest;<br>And, like a foolish guard, been bribed to peace,<br>By a false promise, that offence should cease;<br>Past faults had seem'd familiar to the view,<br>Confused if many, and obscure though true;<br>And Conscience, troubled with the dull account,<br>Had dropp'd her tale, and slumber'd o'er th' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">amount:<br>But, struck by daring guilt, alert she rose,<br>Disturb'd, alarm'd, and could no more repose:<br>All hopes of friendship and of peace were past,<br>And every view with gloom was overcast.<br>Hence from that day, that day of shame and sin,<br>Arose the restless enmity within:<br>On no resource could Fulham now rely,<br>Doom'd all expedients, and in vain, to try;<br>For Conscience, roused, sat boldly on her throne,<br>Watch'd every thought, attack'd the foe alone,<br>And with envenom'd sting drew forth the inward </div><div style="margin:10px 0">groan:<br>Expedients fail'd that brought relief before,<br>In vain his alms gave comfort to the poor,<br>Give what he would, to him the comfort came no </div><div style="margin:10px 0">more:<br>Not prayer avail'd, and when (his crimes confess'd)<br>He felt some ease, she said, 'Are they redress'd?<br>You still retain the profit, and be sure,<br>Long as it lasts, this anguish shall endure.'<br>Fulham still tried to soothe her, cheat, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">mislead,<br>But Conscience laid her finger on the deed,<br>And read the crime with power, and all that must </div><div style="margin:10px 0">succeed:<br>He tried t'expel her, but was sure to find<br>Her strength increased by all that he design'd;<br>Nor ever was his groan more loud and deep<br>Than when refresh'd she rose from momentary sleep.<br>Now desperate grown, weak, harass'd, and afraid,<br>From new allies he sought for doubtful aid;<br>To thought itself he strove to bid adieu,<br>And from devotions to diversions flew;<br>He took a poor domestic for a slave<br>(Though avarice grieved to see the price he gave);<br>Upon his board, once frugal, press'd a load<br>Of viands rich the appetite to goad;<br>The long protracted meal, the sparkling cup,<br>Fought with his gloom, and kept his courage up:<br>Soon as the morning came, there met his eyes<br>Accounts of wealth, that he might reading rise;<br>To profit then he gave some active hours,<br>Till food and wine again should renovate his </div><div style="margin:10px 0">powers:<br>Yet, spite of all defence, of every aid,<br>The watchful Foe her close attention paid;<br>In every thoughtful moment on she press'd,<br>And gave at once her dagger to his breast;<br>He waked at midnight, and the fears of sin,<br>As waters through a bursten dam, broke in;<br>Nay, in the banquet, with his friends around,<br>When all their cares and half their crimes were </div><div style="margin:10px 0">drown'd,<br>Would some chance act awake the slumbering fear,<br>And care and crime in all their strength appear:<br>The news is read, a guilty victim swings,<br>And troubled looks proclaim the bosom-stings:<br>Some pair are wed; this brings the wife in view;<br>And some divorced; this shows the parting too:<br>Nor can he hear of evil word or deed,<br>But they to thought, and thought to sufferings </div><div style="margin:10px 0">lead.<br>Such was his life--no other changes came,<br>The hurrying day, the conscious night the same;<br>The night of horror--when he starting cried<br>To the poor startled sinner at his side,<br>'Is it in law? am I condemned to die?<br>Let me escape!--I'll give--oh! let me fly -<br>How! but a dream!--no judges! dungeon! chain!<br>Or these grim men!--I will not sleep again -<br>Wilt thou, dread being! thus thy promise keep?<br>Day is thy time--and wilt thou murder sleep?<br>Sorrow and want repose, and wilt thou come,<br>Nor give one hour of pure untroubled gloom?<br>'Oh! Conscience! Conscience! man's most faithful </div><div style="margin:10px 0">friend,<br>Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend;<br>But if he will thy friendly checks forego,<br>Thou art, oh? woe for me, his deadliest foe?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Crabbe">George Crabbe</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395900" data-title="Tale XIV de George Crabbe" data-description="THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE.

A serious Toyman in the city dwelt,
Who much concern for his religion felt;
Reading, he changed his tenets, read again,
And various questions could with skill maintain;
Papist and Quaker if we set aside,
He had the ro..."></div>
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