Shakespeare's England . in saying that a good way in whichto keep the tongue from speaking evil is to keep theheart kind and pure. Better than any sermon, though,was the spectacle of those poor children, rescued outof their helplessness and reared in comfort and affec- XXII A BORROWER OF THE NIGHT 2S1 tion. Several fine works of art are owned by this hos-pital and shown to visitors — paintings by Gainsboroughand Reynolds, and a portrait of Captain Coram, by Ho-garth. May theturf lie lightlyon him, and dai-sies and violetsdeck his hal-lowed grave!No man ever dida better deedthan he, and thedark


Shakespeare's England . in saying that a good way in whichto keep the tongue from speaking evil is to keep theheart kind and pure. Better than any sermon, though,was the spectacle of those poor children, rescued outof their helplessness and reared in comfort and affec- XXII A BORROWER OF THE NIGHT 2S1 tion. Several fine works of art are owned by this hos-pital and shown to visitors — paintings by Gainsboroughand Reynolds, and a portrait of Captain Coram, by Ho-garth. May theturf lie lightlyon him, and dai-sies and violetsdeck his hal-lowed grave!No man ever dida better deedthan he, and thedarkest nightthat ever wascannot darkenhis fame. How dim andsilent now areall those narrowand dingy littlestreets and lanesaround Paulschurchyard andthe Temple,where Johnsonand Goldsmithloved to ramble!More than oncehave I wandered there, in the late hours of the night,meeting scarce a human creature, but conscious of aroyal company in4eed, of the wits and poets and play-ers of a far-off time. Darkness now, on busy Smith-. Middle Temple Lane. 252 SHAKESPEARES ENGLAND chap. field, where once the frequent, cruel flames of bigotryshed forth a glare that sickened the light of and grim enough to-night is that grand pro-cessional walk in St. Bartholomews church, wherethe great gray pillars and splendid Norman arches ofthe twelfth century are mouldering in neglect anddecay. Sweet to fancy and dear in recollection, theold church comes back to me now, with the soundof childrens voices and the wail of the organ strangelybreaking on its pensive rest. Stillness and peaceover arid Bunhill Fields — the last haven of many aPuritan worthy, and hallowed to many a pilgrim asthe resting-place of Bunyan and of Watts. In many apark and gloomy square the watcher now would hearonly a rustling of leaves or the fretful twitter of half-awakened birds. Around Primrose Hill and out towardHampstead many a night-walk have I taken, thatseemed like rambling in a desert — so dark and still arethe w


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectshakespearewilliam15