Abel, a poor Man, Teacher of a School of the lower Order; is placed in the Office of a Merchant; is alarmed by Discourses of the Clerks; unable to reply; becomes a Convert; dresses, drinks, and ridicules his former Conduct-The Remonstrance of his Sister, a devout Maiden - Its Effect Merchant dies- Abel returns to Poverty unpitied; but relieved His abject Condition The His Melancholy — He wanders about: is found - His own Account of himself, and the Revolutions in his Mind. 223 THE BOROUGH. LETTER XXI. ABEL KEENE. A QUIET, simple man was Abel Keene, When half the labour brought him twice the pay. There were young clerks, and there the merchant's son, Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one; They quoted books, to him both bold and new, "Such monkish stories, and such nursery lies," That he was struck with terror and surprise. "What! all his life had he the laws obey'd, "Which they broke through and were not once afraid? "Had he so long his evil passions check'd, "And yet at last had nothing to expect? "While they their lives in joy and pleasure led, "And then had nothing, at the end, to dread? "Was all his priest with so much zeal convey'd, "A part! a speech! for which the man was paid? "And were his pious books, his solemn prayers, "Not worth one tale of the admired Voltaire's? "Then was it time, while yet some years remain'd, "To drink untroubled and to think unchain'd, "And on all pleasures, which his purse could give, "Freely to seize, and while he lived, to live." Much time he pass'd in this important strife, The youths applauded much his wise design, With weighty reasoning o'er their evening wine; And much in private 't would their mirth improve, To hear how Abel spake of life and love; To hear him own what grievous pains it cost, Ere the old saint was in the sinner lost, Ere his poor mind, with every deed alarm'd, For Abel enter'd in his bold career, And then proceed with blunders and delays: At length example Abel's dread removed, With small concern he sought the joys he loved : Not resting here, he claim'd his share of fame, And first their votary, then their wit became; His jest was bitter and his satire bold, When he his tales of formal brethren told; What time with pious neighbours he discuss'd, Their boasted treasure and their boundless trust: "Such were our dreams," the jovial elder cried ; "Awake and live," his youthful friends replied. Now the gay Clerk a modest drab despised, Broad polish'd buttons blazed that coat upon, When Abel walked the streets, with pleasant mien He met his friends, delighted to be seen; And when he rode along the public way, His pious sister, now an ancient maid, For Abel fearing, first in secret pray'd; Then thus in love and scorn her notions she convey'd. "Alas! my brother! can I see thee pace "Hoodwink'd to hell, and not lament thy case, "Nor stretch my feeble hand to stop thy headlong race? "Lo! thou art bound; a slave in Satan's chain, "The righteous Abel turn'd the wretched Cain; "His brother's blood against the murderer cried, "Against thee thine, unhappy suicide! "Are all our pious nights and peaceful days, "Our evening readings and our morning praise, "Our spirits' comfort in the trials sent, "Our hearts' rejoicings in the blessings lent, |