Digitized by the Internet Arciiive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporatipn http://www.archive.org/details/cowperpoemsOOcowprich • •• ••••• • » • •••••• "•••' [UHIVEESITTj I 9 • • ' «• • • ^^ a-^' POEM S, ' * \ ^"^ h-^-^v ^ WILLIAM COWPERp, ESQ TOGETHER WITH HIS * POSTHUMOUS POETRY, A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE BY JOHN JOHNSOl^ LL. D, THREE VOLUMES IN ONE. NEW EDITION. BOSTGlSr: PHILLIPS, SAM^j^AND COMPANY. NEW Yoi^^^K. DERBY. 1 Jo :*earance nece^ary to the happiness of the ^Married State, - - - ^The Negro's Complaint, - - - r^\ ** Pity for p0or Africans, - • ^" The Morning Dream, :7 'J>»irtie Nightingale and Glow-worm, ^ ^ On a Goldfinch starved to death in his Cage, The Pine Apple and the Bee, Horace, Book IL Ode X. - A reflection on the foregoing Ode, The Lily and the Rose, - - - Idem, Latine Redditum, - - - ^-^^The Poplar Field, - - - - Idem, Latine Redditum, - - - Votum, - - Translations from Vincent Bourne, Cicindela, - - - - . - The Glow-worm, - . • - Cornicula, - - The Jackdaw, . - - Ad Grillum. Anacreonticum, - The Cricket, - - - * - Simile agit in simile, - - - The Parrot, - - - - Translation of Prior's Q^i^^fa^ Euphelia, 195 196 ibid. 4 197 204 205 ^f^SiX^e History of John^ pistle to an afflicted To the Rev. W. C. Unwin, Ch^^id E [ P^^l^nt I Lady \n France, PREFACE TO THE FIRST VOLUME. When an Author, by appearing in print, requesia an audience of the publick, and is upon the point of speaking for himself, whoever presumes to step before him with a preface, and to say, *' Nay, but hear me first," should have something worthy of attention to offer, or he will be justly deemed officious and imper tinent. The judicious reader has, probably upon other occasions, been beforehand with me in this reflection : and I am not very willing it should now be applied to me, however I may seem to expose myself to the dan ger of it. But the thought of having my own name perpetuate4 in connexion with the name in the title page, is so pleasing and flattering to the feelings of my heart, that I am content to risk something for the gratification. This Preface is not designed to commend the Poems to which it is prefixed. My testimony would be in- sufficient for those who are not qualified to judge pro- perly for themselves, and unnecessary to those who are. Besides, the reasons which render it improper and unseemly for a man to celebrate his own perform- ances, or those of his nearest relatives, will have some 1* 6 PREFACE influence in suppressing rvnch. of what he might otheN wise wish to say in favour of a friend, when that friend is indeed an alter idenij and excites almost the same emotions of sensibility and affection as he fee - for liimself. It is very probable that these Poems may come into the hands of some persons, in whom the sight of the author's name will awaken a recollection of incidents and scenes, which, through length of time, they had al- most forgotten. They will be reminded of one, who was once the companioTi of their chosen hours, and who set out with them in early life in the paths which lead to literary honours, to influence and affluence, with equal prospects of success. But he was suddenly and powerfully withdrawn from those pursuits, and he left them without regret ; yet not till he had sufficient opportunity of counting the cost and of knowing the value of what he gave up. If happiness could have been found in classical attainments, in an elegant taste, in the exertions of wit, fancy, and genius, and in the esteem and converse of such persons as in these re- spects were mo t congenial with himself, he would have been happy. But he was not — He wondeted (as thou- sands in a similar situation still do) that he should con-- tinue dissatisfied, with all the means apparently conducive to satisfaction within his reach. But in due time the cause of his disappointment was discovered to him ; he had lived without God in the world In a memorable hour the wisdom which is from above visit- ed his heart. Then he felt himself a Wanderer, and then he found a guide. Upon this change of views, a change of plan and conduct fallowed of course. When ho saw the buey and the gay world in its true light, ha PREFACE. 7 lefl it ifHtli as little reluctance as a prisoner, ^hen called lo liberty, kaves his dungeon. Not that he became a Cynick or an Ascetick — A heart filled with love to God will assuredly breathe benevolence to men. But the turn of his temper inclining him to rural life, he in- dulged it, and the Providence of God evidently prepar- ing his way and marking out liis retreat, he retired into the country. By these steps the good hand of God, unknown to me, was providing for me one of the principal blessings of my life ; a friend and a counsellor, in whose company for almost seven years, though we were seldom seven successive waking hours sepa- rated, I always found new pleasure. A friend who was not only a comfort to myself, but a blessing to the af- fectionate poor people, among whom I then lived. Some time after inclination had thus removed him from the hurry and bustle of life, he was still more se- cluded by a long indisposition, and my pleasure was succeeded by a proportionable degree of anxiety and concern. But a hope that the God whom he served W'ould support him under his affliction, and at length vouchsafe him a happy deliverance, never forsook me. The desirable crisis, I trust, is now nearly approaching. The dawn, the presage of returning day, is already ar- rived. He is again enabled to resume his pen, and some of the first fruits of his recovery are here pre- sented to the publick. In his principal subjects, the same acumen, which distinguished him in the early period of life, is happily employed in illustrating and enforcing the truths of which he received such deep, and unalterable impressions in his maturer years. His sa- tire, if it may be called so, is benevolent, (like the ope* rations of the skilful and humane surgeon, who wounds 8 PREFACE. only to heal,) dictated by a just regard for the honour of God| and indignant grief excited by the profligacy of the age, and a tender compassion for the souls of men. His favourite topicks are least insisted on in the piece entitled Table Talk ; which, therefore, with re- gard to the prevailing taste, and that those who are go- verned by it may not be discouraged at the very thresh- old from proceeding further, is placed first. In most of the large Poems which follow, his leading design is more explicitly avowed and pursued. He aims to com- municate his own perceptions of the truth, beauty, and influence of the religion of the Bible — A religion which however discredited by the misconduct of many who have not renounced the Christian name, proves itself, when rightly understood, and cordially embraced, to be the grand desideratum, which alone can relieve the mind of man from painful and xmavoidable anxieties, inspire it with stable peace and solid hope, and furnish those motives and prospects, which, in the present state of things, are absolutely necessary to produce a conduct worthy of a rational cieature, distinguished by a vastness of capacity which no assemblage of earthly good can satisfy, and by a principle and pre-intimation of immortality. At a time when hypothesis and conjecture in philo- sophy are so justly exploded, and little is considered as deserving the name of knowledge which will not stand the test of experiment, the very use of the term experimental, in religious concernments, is by too many unhappily rejected with disgust. But we well know, that they who affect to despise the inward teel- ings which religious persons speak of, and to treat PREFACE 9 them as enthusiasm and folly, have inward feelings of their own, which, though they would, they cannot sup^ j^iesB. We have been too long in the secret ourselves, to account the proud, the ambitious, or the voluptuous, happy. We must lose the remembrance of what we once were, before we can believe that a man is satis- fied with himself, merely because he endeavours to appear so. A smile upon the face is often but a mask worn occasionally and in company, to prevent, if possi ble, a suspicion of what at the. same time is passing in the heart. We know that there are people who seldom smile when they are alone ; who, therefore, are glad to hide themselves in a throng from the violence of their own reflections ; and who, while by their looks and language they wish to persuade us they are happy, would be glad to change their conditions with a dog. But in defiance of all their efforts, they continue to think, forebode, and tremble. This we know, for it has been our own state, and therefore we know how to commiserate it in others. From this state the Bible relieved us. When we were led to read it with atten- tion, we found ourselves described- We learned the causes of our inquietude — We were directed to a me- thod of relief — we tried, and we were not disappointed. DEUS NOBIS H^C OTIA FECIT. We are now certain, that the gospel of Christ is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth It has reconciled us to God, and to ourselves ; to our. duty, and our situation. It is the balm and cordial of the present life, and a sovereign antidote against the fears of death. Sed hactenus hiec. Some smaller pieces upon less 10 PREFACE. important subjects close the volume. Not one of them I believe was written with a view to publication, but I was unwilling they should be omitted. JOHN NEWTON. Charles Square, Hoxton, FcDruaiy 18, 1782. TABLE TALK. Si te forth me Poets, of all men, ever least regret Increasing taxes, and the nation's debt. Could you contrive the payment, and rehearse The mighty plan, oraculat in verse, 16 TABLE TALK. No bard, howe'er majestick, old or new, 180 Should claim my fix'd attention more than you. B. Not Brindley nor Bridge water would essay To turn the course of Helicon that way ; Nor would the Nine consent the sacred tide Should purl amidst the trafRck of Cheapside, 185 Or tinkle in Change Alley, to amuse The leathern ears of stockjobbers and Jews. ^. Vouchsafe, at least, to pitch the key of ihyme To themes more pertinent, if less sublime. When ministers and ministerial arts; 190 Patriots, who love good places at their hearts ; When admirals extoU'd for standing still, Or doing nothing with a deal of skill ; Gen'rals who will not conquer when they may, Firm friends to peace, to pleasure, and good pay ; 195 When Freedom, wounded almost to despair. Though Discontent alone can find out where ; When themes like these employ the poet's tongue, I hear as mute as if a syren sung. Or tell me, if you can, what pow'r maintains 200 A Briton's scorn of arbitrary chains ? That were a theme might animate the dead. And move the lips of poets cast in lead. B. The cause, tho' worth the search, may yet eludo Conjecture and remark, however shrewd. 2u5 They take perhaps a well-directed aim. Who seek it in his climate and his frame. Lib'ral in all things else, yet Nature here With stern severity deals out the year. Winter invades the spring, and often pours 210 A chilling flood on summer's drooping flow'rs , Unwelcome vapours quench autumnal beams, Ungenial blasts attending curl the streams ; The peasants urge their harvest, ply the fork With double toil, and shiver at their work ; • 215 Thus with a rigour, for his good design'd, She rears her ^av'rito man of all mankind. Hrt form robust, ana of elastick tone, Plajportion'd well, half muscle and half bone S»if plies with warm activity and force 220 A xnind well lodg'd, and mascuUne of course. Hence Liberty, sweet Liberty inspires, And keeps alive his fierce but nobl« fires. Patient of constitutional control, He bears it with meek manliness of soul ; 225 But, if Authority grow wanton, v/o To him that treads upon his free-born toe ; One step beyond the bound'ry of the laws Fires him at once in Freedom's glorious cause. Thus proud prerogative, not much rever'd, 230 Is seldom felt, though sometimes seen and heard ; And in his cage, like parrot fine and gay, Is kept to strut, look big, and talk away. Born in a climate softer far than ours, Not forra'd like us, with such Herculean powr's, 235 The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk, Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk. Is always happy, reign whoever may, And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away. He drinks his simple bev'rage with a gust ; 240 And, feasting on an onion and a crust, We never feel the alacrity and joy With which he shouts and carols Vive le Roi ! Fill'd with as much true merriment and glee, As if he heard his king say — ' Slave, be free !*• 245 Thus happiness depends, as Nature shows, Less on exteriour things than most suppose. Vigilant over all that he has made. Kind Providence attends with gracious aid ; Bids equity throughout his works prevail, 250 And weighs the nations in an even scale ; He can encourage slav'ry to a smile, And fill with discontent a British isle. Ji Freeman and slave, then, if the case be suclv Sland on a level ; and you prove too much : 255' 2« 18 TABLE TALK. If all men indiscriminately share His fost'ring power, and tutelary care, As wel! be yok'd by Despotism's hand, As dwell at large in Britain's charter'd land. B. No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show, 26C That slaves, howe'er contented, never know. The mind attains beneath her happy reign The growth, that Nature meant she should attain ', The varied fields of science, ever new, Op'ning, and wider op'ning, on her view, 2^ She ventures onward with a prosp'rous force, While no base fear impedes her in her course. Religion, richest favour of the skies, Stands most reveal'd before the freeman's eyes ; No shades of superstition blot the day, 870 Liberty chases all that gloom away ; The soul emancipated, unoppress'd. Free to prove all things, and hold fast the best, Learns much ; and to a thousand list'ning minds Communicates with joy the good she finds ; 275 Courage in arms, and ever prompt to show His manly forehead to the fiercest foe ; Glorious in war, but for the sake of peace, His spirits rising as his toils inciease. Guards well what arts and industry have Won, 290 And Freedom claims him for her first-born son. Slaves fight for what were better cast away — The chain that binds them, and a tyrant's sway ; But they that fight for freedom, undertake The noblest cause mankind can have at stake 285 Religion, virtue, truth, whate'er we call A blessmg — ^freedom is the pledge of all. O Liberty ! the pris'ners pleasing drearh, The poet's muse, his passion, and his theme ; Genius is thine, and thou art Fancy's nurse ; 290 Lost v/ithout thee th' ennobling pow'rs of verse ; Heroick song from thy free touch acquires Its clearest tone, the rapture it inspires. :^.. TABLE TALK. * 19 Place me wliere Winter breathes his keenest air, And I will sing, if Liberty be there ; 295 And I will sing at Liberty's dear feet, In Afric's torrid clime, or India's nercest heat. A. Sing where you please ; in such a cause I grant An English poet's privilege to rant ; But is not Freedom — at least, is not ours, 300 Too apt to play the wanton with her pow'rs. Grow freakish, and, o'erleaping every mound, Spread anarchy and terrour all around ? B. Agreed. But would you sell or slay your horse For bounding and curvetting in his course ? 305 Or if, when ridden with a careless rein. He break away, and seek the distant plain ? No. His high mettle, under good control. Gives him Olympick speed, and shoots hirn to the goal. Let Discipline employ her wholesome arts ; 31C Let magistrates alert perform their parts, Not skulk or put on a prudential mask, As if their duty were a desperate task ; Let active Laws apply the needful curb, To guard the Peace, that Riot would disturb ; 315 And Liberty, preserv'd from wild excess. Shall raise no feuds for armies to suppress. When Tumult lately burst his prison door, And set plebeian thousands in a roar ; When he usurp'd Authority's just place, 320 And dar'd to look his master in the face : When the rude rabble's watchword was — destroy, And blazing London seem'd a second Troy ; Liberty blush'd, and hung her drooping head, Beheld their progress with the deepest dread ; 325 Blush'd that effects like these she should produce^ Worse than the deeds of galley-slaves broke loose She loses in such storms her very name, And fierce Licentiousness should bear the blame. Incomparable gem ! thy worth untold ; 330 Cheap, the' blood-bought, and thrown away when sold , 20 * TABLE TALK. May no foes ravish thee, and no false friend Betray thee, while professing to defend ! Prize it, ye ministers ; ye monarchs, spare ; Ye patriots, guard it with a miser's care. 335 A, Patriots, alas ! the few that have been fodad Where nrost they flourish, upon English ground, The country's need have scantily supplied. And the last left the scene, when Chatham died. B, Not so — the virtue still adorns our age, 340 Though the chief actor died upon the stage. In him Demosthenes was heard again ; Liberty taught him her Athenian strain : She cloth'd him with authority and awe. Spoke from his lips, and in his looks gave law. 345 His speech, his form, his action, full of grace, And all his country beaming in his face, He stood,..as some inimitable hand Would strive to make a Paul or TuUy stand. No sycophant or slave, that dar'd oppose 350 Her sacred cause, but trembled when he rose ; And ev'ry venal stickler for the yoke Felt himself crush'd at the first word he spoke. Such men are rais'd to station and command, When Providence means mercy to a land. 355 He speaks, and they appear : to him they owe Skill to direct, and strength to strike the blow ; To manage with address, to seize with pow'r The crisis of a dark decisive hour. . So Gideon earn'd a victory not his own ; 3GQ Subserviency his praise, and that alone. Poor England ! thou art a devoted deer, Beset with every ill but that of fear. Thee nations hunt } all mark thee for a prey ; They swarm around thee, and thou stand'st at ba^ 365 Undaunted still, though wearied and perplex'd, Once Chatham sav'd thee ; but who saves thee Df.y t .*' Alas ! the tide of pleasure sweeps along ! All, that should be the boa^ of British song. TABLE TALK. 21 'Tis not the wreath, that once adorn'd thy brow, 370 The prize of happier times, will serve thee now Our ancestry, a gallant, Christian race, Patterns of ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace, Confes'd a God ; they kneel'd before they fought, And prais'd him in the victories he wrought. 375 Now from the dust of ancient days bring forth 1 heir sober zeal, integrity, and worth , Courage ungrac'd by these, affronts the skies, Is but the fire without the sacrifice. Tne stream, that feeds the well-spring of the heart, 380 Not more invigorates life's noblest part. Than Virtue quickens with a warmth divine The pow'rs that Sin has brought to a decline. A. Th' inestimable Estimate of Brown Rose like a paper kite, and charm'd the town ; 385 But measures, plann'd and executed well, Shifted the wind that raised it, and it fell. He trod the very self-same groiind you tread. And Victory refuted all he said. B. And yet his judgment was not fram*d amiss ; 390 Its errour, if it err'd, was merely this — He thought the dying hour already come, And a complete recov'ry struck him dumb. But that efieminacy, folly, lust. Enervate and enfeeble, and needs must ; 395 And that a nation shamefully debas'd Will be despis'd and trampled on at last, Unless sweet Penitence her pow'rs renew ; Is truth, if history itself be true. There is a time and Justice marks the date, 400 For long-forbearing clemency to wait ; That hour elaps'd th' incurable revolt Is punish'd, and down comes the thunderbolt. If mercy then put by the threat'ning blow, Must she perform the same kind office now f 405 May she ? and if offended Heav n be still Accessible, and pray'r prevail, she will 22 TABLE TALK. 'TIS not, however, insolence and noise, I'he tempest of tumultuary joys, Nor is it yet despondence and dismay 410 Will win her visits, or engage her stay ; Pray T only, and the penitential tear. Can call her smiUng down, and fix her here But when a country, (one that I could name,) In prostitution sinks the sense of shame ; 415 When infamous Venality, grown bold, Writes on his bosom, To be let or sold ; When Perjury, that Heav'n-defying vice, Sells oaths by tale, and at the lowest price, Stamps God's own name upon a lie just made, 420 To turn a penny in the way of trade j When Av'rice starves, (and never hides his face,) Two or three millions of the human race. And not a tongue inquires, how, where, or when, Though conscience will have twinges now and then ; When profanation of the sacred cause, 426 In all its parts, times, ministry, and laws. Bespeaks a land, once Christian, fall'n and lost. In all, but wars against that title most j What follows next let cities of great name, 430 And regions long since desolate, proclaim. Nineveh, Babylon, and ancient Rome, Speak to the present times, and times to come ; They cry aloud in ev'ry careless ear, Stop while you may ; suspend your mad career j 435 O learn from our example and our fate, Learn wisdom and repentance ere too late. Not only Vice disposes and prepares The mind, that slimibers sweetly in her snares. To stoop to Tyranny's usurp'd command, 440 And bend her polish'd neck beneath his hand, (A dire effect, by one of Nature's laws, Orchangeabiy connected with its cause ;) But Providence himself will intervene. To throw his dark displeasure o*er the scene 445 TABLE TALK. 23 All are his instruments ; each form of war, What bums at home, or threatens from afar : Nature in arras, her elements at strife. The storms that overset the joys of life. Are but liis rods to scourge a gi-uty land, 450 And waste it at the bidding of his hand. He gives the word, and Mutiny soon roars In all her gates, and shakes her distant shores ; The standards of all nations are unfiirl'd ; She has one foe, and that one foe the world. 455 And, if he doom that people with a frown, And mark them with a seal of wrath press'd down, Obduracy takes place : callous and tough. The reprobated race grows judgment proof; Earth shakes beneath them, and Heav'n roars above; 460 But nothing scares them ftom the course they love. To the lascivious pipe and wanton song. That charm down fear, they frolick it along, With mad rapidity and unconcern, Down to the gulf, from which is no return. 465 They trust in navies, and their navies fail — God's curse can cast away ten thousand sail ! They trust in armies, and their courage dies ; In wisdom, wealth, in fortune, and in lif^s , But all they trust in, withers, as it must,' 470 When He commands, in whom they place no trust. Vengeance at last pours down upon their coast A long despis'd, but now victorious, host ; Tyranny sends the chain, that must abridge The noble sweep of all their privilege ; 475 Gives liberty the last, the mortal shock : Slips tho slave's collar on, and snaps the lock. A. Such lofty strains embellish what you teach. Mean you to prophesy, or but to preach ? B. I know the mind that feels indeed the fire 48(1 The muse imparts, and can command the lyre. Acts with a force and kindles with a zeal, Whato'er the theme, that others never feeL 24 TABLF TALK. If hum in woes her soft attention claim, A tender sympathy pervades the frame } 435 She pours a sensibility divine Along the nerves of every feeling line. But if a deed not tamely to be borne Fire indignation and a sense of scorn, The strings are swept with such a pow*r so loud, 490 The storm of musick shakes th' astonish'd crowd. So, when remote futurity is brought Before the keen inquiry of her thought, A terrible sagacity informs The poet's heart ; he looks to distant storms ; 495 He hears the thunder ere the tempest low'rs j And, arm'd with strength surpassing human pow'rS;^ Seizes events as yet unknown to man, And darts his soul into the dawning plan. Hence in a Roman mouth, the gracf Tul name 500 Of prophet and of poet was the same ; Hence, British poets, too, tho priesthood shar'd. And every hallow'd druid was a bard. But no prophetick fires to me belong ; I play with syllables, and sport in song. 505 j3. At Westminster, where little poets strive To set a distich upon six and five, Where Discipline helps th' op'ning buds of sense, And makes his pupils proud with silver pence, I was a poet too : but modern taste 510 Is so refin'd, and deUcate, and chaste, That verse, whatever fire the fancy warms. Without a creamy smoothness has no charms. Thus, all success depending on an ear, And thinking I might purchase it too dear, 515 If sentiment were sacrific'd to sound, And truth cut short to make a period round, I judg'd a man of sense could scarce do worse, Than caper in the morris-dance of verse. B. Thus reputation is a spur to wit, 520 And some wits flag through fear of losing it TABLE TALK 25 Oive me Iha line that ploughs its stately course Like a proud swan, conqu'ring the stream by force j That, like some cottage beauty, strikes the heaxt, Quite unindebted to the tricks of art. 525 When Labour and when Dulness club in hand, Like the two figures at St. Dunstan's, stand, Beating alternately in measur'd time, The clock-work tintinabulum of rhyme, Exact and regular the sounds will be j 530 But such mere quarter-strokes are not for me. From him who rears a poem lank and long, To him who strains his all into a song ; Perhaps some bonny Caledonian air, All birks and braes, though he was never there 5 536 Or, having whelp 'd a prologue with great pains. Feels himself spent, and fumbles for his brains ; A prologue interdash'd with many a stroke — An art contriv'd to advertise a joke. So that the jest is clearly to be seen, 540 Not in the words — ^but in the gap between : Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ To substitute for genius, sense, and wit. To dally much with subjects mean and low Proves that the mind is weak, or makes it so. 545 Neglected talents rust into decay, And ev'ry effort ends in pushpin play. The man that means success should soar above A soldier's feather, or a lady's glove ; Else, summoning the muse to such a theme, 560 The fruit of all her labour is whipp'd cream, As if an eagle flew alofl, and then — Sto'op'd from ita highest pitch to pcimce a wren As if the poet, purposing to wed. Should carve himself a wife in gingerbread. 555 Ages olaps'd ere Homer's lamp appear 'd. And ages ere the Mantuan swan was heard. To carry Nature's lengths unknown before. To give a Milton birth, ask'd ages more. Vol. L 3 26 TABLE TALK. Thus Genius rose and set at order'd times, 660 And shot a day-spring into distant climes, Ennobling ev*ry region that he chose ; He sunk in Greece, in Italy he rose ; And, tedious years of Crothick darkness pass*d, Emerg'd all splendour in our isle at last. 565 Thus lovely halcyons dive into the main, Then show far off their shining plumes again. A. Is genius only found in epick lays ? Prove this, and forfeit all pretence to praise. Make their heroick pow'rs your own at once, 570 Or candidly confess yourself a dunce. B. These were the chief: each interval of night Was grac'd with many an undulating light. In less illustrious bards his beauty shone A meteor or a star ; in these the sun. 59*5 The nightingale may claim the topmost bough, While the poor grasshopper must chirp below. Like him unnotic'd I, and such as I, Spread little wings, and rather skip than fly ', Perch'd on the meagre produce of the land, 580 An ell or two of prospect we command ; But never peep beyond the thorny bound. Or oaken fence that hems the paddock round. In Eden, ere yet innocence of heart Had faded, poetry was not an art : 585 Language above all teaching, or, if taught, Only by gratitude and glowing thought, Elegant as simplicity, and warm As ecstasy, unmanacled by form. Not prompted, as in our degen'rate days, 590 By low ambition and the thirst of praise. Was natural as is the flowing stream. And yet magnificent — ^A God the theme ! That theme on Earth eidiausted, though above 'Tis found as everlasting as his love, 595 Man lavish'd all his thoughts on human things— The feals of heroes, and the wrath of Kings ; TABLE TALK. 27 But still, while virtue kindled his delight, The song was moral, and so far was right. Twas thus till Luxury seduc'd the mind 600 To joys less innocent, as It^ss refin'd ; Then Genius danc'd a bacchanal ; he crown'd The brimming goblet, seiz'd the thyrsus, bound His brows with ivy, rush'd into the field Ot wild imagination, and there reel'd, 605 The victim of his own lascivious fires, And, dizzy with delight, profan'd the sacred wires. Anacreon, Horace, play'd in Greece and Rome This bedlam part, and others nearer home. When Cromwell fought for pow'r, and while he reign'd The proud protector of the power he gain'd, 611 Religion harsh, intolerant, austere. Parent of manners like herself severe. Drew a rough copy of the Christian face, Without the smile, the sweetness, or the grace ; 615 The dark and sullen humour of the time Judg'd ev'ry efibrt of the muse a crime ; Verse, in the finest mould of fancy cast, Was lumber in an age so void of taste : But when the second Charles assum'd the sway, 630 And arts reviv'd beneath a softer day. Then like a bow long forc'd into a curve, The mind, releas'd from too constrain'd a nerve, Flew to its first position with a spring. That made the vaulted roofs of Pleasure ring. 625 His court, the dissolute and hateful school Of Wantonness, where vice was taught by rule, Swarm'd with a scribbling herd, as deep inlaid With brutal lust as ever Circe made. From these a long succession, in a rage 630 , Of rank obscenity debauch'd their age : Nor ceas'd till ever anxious to redress The abuses of her sacred charge, the pr'><^s, The muse instructed a well-nurtur'd train Of abler votaries to cleanse the stain, 635 28 TABLE TALK. And claim the palm for purity of song, That Lewdness had usurp 'd and worn so long. Then decent Pleasantry, and sterling Sense, Tliat neither gave nor would endure offence, Whipp'd out of sight, with satire just and keen, 640 The puppy pack, that had defil'd the scene. In front of these came Addison. In him Humour in holiday and sightly trim, Sublimity and attick taste combin'd, To polish, furnish, and delight the mind. 645 Then Pope, as harmony itself exact. In verse well disciplin'd, complete, compact, Gave virtue and morality a grace, That quite eclipsing Pleasure's painted face, Levied a tax of wonder and applause, 650 E'en on the fools that trampled on their laws. But he, (his musical finesse was such. So nice his ear, so delicate his touch,) Made poetry a mere mechanick art j And ev'ry warbler has his tune by heart. 655 Nature imparting her satirick gifl. Her serious mirth, to Arbuthnot and Swift, With droll sobriety they rais'd a smile At Folly's cost, themselves unmov'd the while. That constellation set, the world in vain 660 Must hope to look upon their like again. A. Are we then left — B. Not wholly in the dark ; Wit now and then, struck smar.tly, shows a spark. Sufficient to redeem the modern race From total night and absolute disgrace. 665 While servile trick and imitative knack Confine the million in the beaten track. Perhaps some courser, who disdains the road. Snuffs up the wind, and flings himself abroad. Contemporaries all surpass'd, see one ; 670 Short his career, indeed, but ably run ; Churchill, himself unconscious of his pow'rs, la penury coiiKuin'd his idle hours ; TABLE TALK. 89 And like a scatter'd seed at random sown, Was left to spring by vigour of his own. 67S Lifted at length, by dignity of thought And dint of genius to an affluent lot, He laid his head in Luxury's soft lap, And took, too often, there his easy nap. If brighter beams than all he threw not forth, 680 'Twas negligence in him, not want of worth. Surly, and slovenly, and bold, and coarse, Too proud for art, and trusting in mere force, Spendthrift alike of money and of wit. Always at speed, and never drawing bit, 685 He struck the lyre in such a careless mood. And so disdain'd the rules he understood. The laurel seem'd to wait on his command, He snatch'd it rudely from the muses' hand. Nature, exerting an unwearied pow'r, 690 Forms, opens, and gives scent to ev'ry flower ; Spreads the fresh verdure of the field, and leads The dancing Naiads through the dewy meads. She fills profuse ten thousand little throats With musick, modulating all their notes ; 695 And charms the woodland scenes, and wilds unknown. With artless airs and concerts of her own ; But seldom, (as if fearful of expense,) Vouchsafes to man a poet's just pretence — Fervency, freedom, fluency of thought, 700 Harmony, strength, words exquisitely sought ; Fancy, that from the bow that spans the sky. Brings colours dipp'd in Heav'n, that never die ; A soul exalted above earth, a mind Skill'd in the characters that form mankind ; | 705 And as the sun in rising beauty dress'd, Looks to the westward from the dappled east. And marks whatever clouds may interpose. Ere yet his race begins, its glorious close ; And eye like his to catch the distant goal , >J0 Or, ere the wheels of verse begin ro roll, 3* 30 TABi.E TALK. Lilte his to shed illuminating rays On ev'ry scene and subject it surveyg : Thus grac'd, the man asserts a poet's name, And the world cheerfully admits the claim. 715 Pity Religion has so seldom found A skilful guide into poetick ground ! The flow'rs would spring where'er she deign'd to stray And ev'ry muse attend her in her way. Virtue indeed, meets many a rhyming friend, 720 And many a compliment politely penn'd ', But, unattir'd in that becoming vest Roligion weaves for her. and half undress'd, Stands in the desert, slnvTing and forlorn, A wintry figure, like a wither'd thorn. 725 The shelves are full, all other themes are sped ; Hackney'd and worn to the last flimsy thread, Satire has long since done his best ; and curst And loathsome ribaldry has done his worst j Fancy has sported all her pow'rs away 730 In tales, in trifles, and in children's play ; And 'tis the sad complaint, and almost true, Whate'er we write, we bring forth nothing new. Twere new indeed to see a bard all fire, Touch'd with a coal from Heav'n, assume the lyre, 735 And tell the world, still kindling as he sung. With more than mortal musick on his tongue, That He, who died below, and reigns above, Inspires the song, and that his name is Love. For, after all, if merely to beguile, 740 By flowing numbers, and a flow'ry style. The tedium that the lazy rich endure, Which now and then sweet poetry may cure , Or, if to see the name of idle self, Stamp'd on the well-bound quarto, grace the shelf, 745 To float a bubble on the brsath of Fame, Prompt his endeavour and engage his aim, Debos'dto servile purposes or pride, How ar • the powVs of genius misapplied ! TABLE TALK. 3i The gift whose offiCij i:^ the Giver's praise, 750 To trace him in his word, his works, his ways ? Then spread the rich discov'ry, and invite Mankind to share in the divine delight, Distorted from its use and just design, To make the pitiful possessor shine, TSfr To purchase at the fool-frequented fair Of Vanity, a wreath for self to wear, Is profanation of the basest kind — Proof of a trifling and a worthless mind, 759 A. Hail, Stemhold, then ; and, Hopkins, hail ! — B, If flatt'ry, folly, lust, employ the pen ; [Amen. If acrimony, slander, and abuse. Give it a charge to blacken and traduce ; Though Butler's wit. Pope's numbers, Prior's ease, With all that fancy can invent to please, 765 Adorn the polish'd periods as they fall, One madrigal of theirs is worth them all. A, 'Twould thin the ranks of the poetick tribe, To dash the pen through all that you proscribe. B. No matter — ^we could shift when they were not % And should, no dcubt, if they were all forgota 771 THK PROGRESS OF ERROUR. Si quid loquar audiendum....Iifor. Lib. iv. Od, 2. SING, muse, (if such a Iheme, so dark, so long, May find a muse to grace it with a song,) By what unseen and unsuspected arts. The serpent Errour twines round human hearts ; Tell where she lurks, beneath what flow'ry shadefl, 5 That not a glimpse of genuine light pervades, The pois'nous, black, insinuating worm Successfully conceals her loathsome form. Take, if ye can, ye careless and supine. Counsel and caution from a voice like mine ! 10 Truths, that the theorist could never reach. And observation taught me, I would teach. Not all, whose eloquence the fancy fills, Musical as the chime of tinkling rills, Weak to perform, though mighty to pretend, 15 Can trace her mazy windings to their end ; Discern the fraud beneath the specious lure, Prevent the danger, or prescribe the cure. The clear harangue, and cold as it is clear, Falls soporifick on the listless ear ; 20 Like quicksilver, the rhet'rick they display Shines as it runs, but grasp'd at slips away. Plac'd for his trial on this bustling stage, From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, Free in his will to choose or to refuse, 25 Man may improve the crisis or abuse ; THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR 3-*. Zllso on the fatalist's unrighteous plan, Say to what bar amenable were man ? With nought in charge he could betray ho iivHii J And, if he fell, would fall because he must t 30 If Love reward him, or if Vengeance strike. His recompense is both uiijust alike. Divine authority within his breast -Brings ev'ry thought, word, action, to the test : Warns him or prompts, approves him or restrains, 35 As Reason, or as Passion takes the reins. Heav'n from above, and Conscience from within, Cries in his startled ear — Abstain from sin ! The world around solicits his desire, And kindles in his soul a treach'rous fire ; 40 While, all his purposes and steps to guard, Peace follows Virtue as its sure reward ; And Pleasure brings as surely in her traiii Remorse, and Sorrow, and vindictive Pain. Man, thus endu'd with an elective voice, 45 Must be supplied with objects of his choice ; Where'er he turns, enjoyment and delight, Or present, or in prospect, meet his sight ; Those open on the spot their honey'd store : These call him loudly to pursuit of more. * ^ 50 His unexhausted mine the sordid vice Avarice dhows, and virtue is the price. Here various motives his ambition raise — Pow'r, pomp, £Lnd splendour, and the thirst of praise. There Beauty woos him with expanded arms ; S5 E'en Bacchanalian madness has its charms. Nor these alone whose pleasures, less refin'd. Might well alarm the most unguarded mind. Seek to supplant his inexperienc'd youth, Or lead him devious from the path of truth , 60 Hourly allurements on his passions press, Safe in themselves, but dang'rous in th' excess. Hark ! how it floats upon the dewy air * O, what a dying, dying close was there ! 34 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 'Tis harmony from yon sequester'd bow'r, 65 Sweet harmony, that soothes the midnight hour I Long ere the charioteer of day had run His morning course, th' enchantment was begun And he shall gild yon mountain's height again, Ere yet the pleasing toil becomes a pain. 70 Is this the rugged path, the steep ascent, 'That Virtue points to ? Can a life thus spent Lead to the bliss she promises the wise. Detach the soul from earth, and speed her to the skies f Ye devotees to your ador'd employ, 75 Enthusiasts, drunk with an imreal joy. Love makes the musick of the blest above, Heav'n*s harmony is universal love ; And earthly sounds, tho' sweet and well combin'd, And lenient as soft opiates to the mind, 80 Leave Vice and Folly unsubdu'd behind. Gray dawn appears ; the sportsman and his train Speckle the bosom of the distant plain ; *Tis he, the Nimrod of the neighb'ring lairs ; Save that his scent is less acute than theirs, 85 For persevering chase, and headlong leaps, True beagle as the stanchest hound he keeps. Charg-d with the folly of his life's mad scene, He takes offence, and wonders what you mean The joy the danger and the toil o'erpays — 90 *Tis exercise, and health, and length of days. Again impetuous to the field he flies ; Leaps ev'ry fence, but one, there falls and dies ; Like.^^Jain deer, the tumbrel bring&him home, IJnmiss'd but by his dogs and by his groom. 95 Ye clergy, while your orbit is your place, Lights of the world, and stars of human race ; But if eccentrick ye forsake your sphere, Prodigies ominous, and view'd with fear ; The comet's baneful influence is a dream ; 100 Yours real and pernicious in th' extreme. What then ! — are appetites and lusts laid down With the same ease that man puts on his* gown ? OF THE THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 3d Will Av'rico and Concupiscence give place, Charmed by the sounds — ^Your Rtf^'rence, or Your Grace ? 105 No. But his own engagement binds him fast ; Or, if it does not, brands him to the last. What atheists call him — a designing knave, A mere church-juggler, hypocrite, and slave. Oh, laugh, or mourn with me the rueful jest, 110 A cassock'd huntsman, and a fiddling priest • He from Italian songsters takes his cue : Set Paul to musick, he shall quote him too. He takes the field, the master of the pack Cries — Well done, saint ! and claps him on the back. 115 Is this the path of sanctity ? Is this To stand a way-mark in the road to bliss ? Himself a wanderer from the narrow way, His silly sheep what wonder if they stray ? Go, cast your orders at your Bishop's feet, 120 Send your dishonoured gown to Monmouth-street ! The sacred function in your hands is made- Sad sacrilege ! no function, but a trade ! Occiduus is a pastor of renown ; When he has pray'd and preach'd the sabbath down, With wire and catgut he concludes the day, 126 Quav'ring and semiquav'ring care away. The full concerto swells upon your ear ; All elbows shake. Look in, and you would swear The Babylonian tyrant with a nod, 190 Had summoned them to serve his golden god. So well that thought th' employment seems to suit, Psalt'ry and sackbut, dulcimer, and flute. O fie ! 'tis evangelical and pure : Observe each face, how sober and demure 136 Ecstasy sets her stamp on every mien ; Chins fall'n and not an eyeball to be seen. Still I insist, though musick heretofore Has charm'd me much, (not e'n Occiduus more,) Love, joy, and peace, make harmony more meet 140 36 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. For Sabbath ev'nings, and perhaps as sweet. Will not the sickliest ^shLB.Qp,^xx:iXfl?ck Resort to this example as a rock ; There stand, and justify the foul abuse Of sabbath hours with plausible excuse ? 141^ If apostolick gravity be free To play the fool on Sundays, why not we .'' If he the tinkling harpsichord regards As inoffensive, what offence in cards ? Strike up the fiddles, let us all be gay, 15f Laymen have leave to dance, if parsons play. Oh Italy !— Thy sabbaths will be soon Our sabbaths, clos'd with mumm'ry and buffoon. Preaching and pranks will share the motley scene, Ours parcell'd out, as thine have ever been, 155 God's worship and the mountebank between. What says the prophet ? Let that day be blest With holiness and consecrated rest. Pastime and business both it should exclude, And bar the door the moment they intrudo^^ 160 Nobly distinguish' d above all the six By deeds, in which the world must never mix. Hear hini again. He calls it a delight, A day of luxury observ'd aright. When the glad soul is made Heav'ns welcome guest, Sits banqueting, and God provides the feast. 166 Bnt triflers are engag'd and cannot come ; Their answer to the call is — JVot at home. O the dear pleasures of the velvet plain, The painted tablets, dealt and dealt again ! 171) Cards with what rapture, and the polish'd die, The yawning chasm of indolence supply ! Then to the dance, and make the sober moon Witness of joys that shun the sight of noon Blame, cynick, if you can, quadrille or ball, 175 The snug close party, or the splendid hall. Where night, down-stooping from her ebon throi^e Views constellations brighter than her own. THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 37 'Tifl innocent, and harmless, and refin*d, 'The balm of care, Elysium of the mmd. 180 Innocent ! Oh, if venerable Time Slain at the foot of pleasure be no crime, Then, with his silver beard and magick wand. Let Comus rise archbishop of the land ; LfBt him your rubrick and your feasts prescribe, !8S Grand metropolitan of all the tribe. Of manners rough, and coarse athletick cast, The rank debauch suits Clodio's filthy taste. Rusillus, exquisitely form'd by rule, Not of the moral, but the dancing school, 190 Wonders at Clodio's follies, in a tone As tragical, as others at his own. He cannot drink five bottles, bilk the score, Then kill a constable, and drink five more : But he can draw a pattern, make a tart, 195 And has the ladies' etiquette by heart. Go, fool ; and, arm in arm with Clodio, plead Your cause before a bar you little dread : But know, the law, that bids the drunkard die, Is far too just to pass the trifler by. 200 Both baby featur'd, and of infant size, View'd from a distance, and with heedless eye* Folly and Innocence are no alike. The difiPrence, though essential, fails to fltrike> Yet Folly ever has a vacant stare, 205 A simp'rmg count'nance, and a trifling air : But Innocence, sedate, serene, erect, Delights us, by engaging our respect. Man, Nature's guest by invitation sweet. Receives from her both appetite and treat ; 210 But if he play the glutton, and exceed, His benefactress blushes at the deed ', For Nature, nice, as lib'ral to dispense. Made nothing but a brute the slave of sense. Daniel ate pulse by choice- ^example rare ' 215 Heaven bless'd the youth, and made him fresh and fair. Vol. I. 4 38 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. Gorgonius sits, abdominous and wan, Like a fat squab upon a Chinese fan : He snuffs far off the anticipated joy ; Turtle and ven'son all his thoughts employ , 220 Prepares for meals as jockies take a sweat, Oh. nauseous ! — an emetick for a whet ! Will Providence o'erlook the wasted good ? Temperance were no virtue if he could. That pleasures, therefore, or what such we call, 225 Are hurtful, is a truth confess'd by all. And some, that seem'd to threaten virtue leM, Still hurtful in th' abuse, or by the excess. Is man then only for his torment plac'd The centre of delights he may not taste ? 230 Like fabled Tantalus condemn'd to hear The precious stream still purling in his ear, Lip deep in what he longs for, and yet curs'd With prohibition, and perpetual thirst ? No, wrangler, — destitute of shame and sense, 235 The precept, that enjoins him abstinence, Forbids him none but the licentious joy, Whose fruit, though fair, tempts only to destroy. Remorse, the fatal egg by pleasure laid In every bosom where her nest is made, 240 Hatch'd by the beams of truth, denies him rest, And proves a raging scorpion in his breast. No pleasure ? Are domestick comforts dead ? Are all the nameless sweets of friendship fled ? 244 Has time worn out, or fashion put to shame, [fame ? fiood sense, good health, good conscience, and good ^Ji these belong to virtue, and all prove, That virtue has a title to your love. Have you no touch of pity, that the poor Stand starv'd at your inhospitable door ? 250 Or if yourself, too scantily supplied, Need help, let honest industry provide. Earn, if you want ; if you abound, impart , These both are pleasures to the feeling heart THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 39 No pleasure ? Has some sickly eastern waste 265 Sent us a wind to parch us at a blast ? Can British Paradise no scenes afford To please her sated and indifferent lord ? Are sweet philosophy's enjoyments run Quite to the lees ? And has religion none ? 260 Brutes capable would tell you 'tis a lie, And judge you from the kennel and the sty. Delights like these, ye sensual and profane, Ye are bid, begg'd, besought to entertain ; Call'd to these crystal streams, do ye turn off 265 Obscene to swill and swallow at a trough ? Envy the beast then, on whom Heav'n bestowa Your pleasures, with no curses in the close. Pleasure admitted in undue degree Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free. 270 Tis not alone the grape's enticing juice, Unnerves the moral powers, and mars their use : Ambition, av'rice, and the lust of fame, And woman, lovely woman, does the same. The heart surrender'd to the ruling power 275 Of some ungovern'd passion every hour, Finds by degrees the truths, that once bore sway, And all their deep impressions, wear away ; So coin grows smooth, in traffick current pass'd, Till CaBsar's image is effac'd at last. 280 The breach, tho' small at first, soon opening wid« , In rushes folly with a fiill-moon tide. Then welcome errours of whatever size, To justify it by a thousand lies. As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone, 385 And hides the ruin that it feeds upon ; So sophistry cleaves close to and protects Sin's rotten trunk, concealing its defects. Mortals, whose pleasures are their only care, First wish to be impos'd on, and then are. 290 And, lest the fulsome artifice should fail, Themselves will hide its coarseness with a veiL 40 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. Not more industrious are the just and true, To give to Virtue what is Virtue's due — The praise of wisdom, comeliness, and worth, " S^ And call her charms to publick notice forth — Than Vice's mean and disingenuous race, To hide the shocking features of her face. Her form with dress and lotion they repair ; Then kiss their idol, and pronounce her fair. 300 The sacred implement I now employ Might prove a mischief, or at best a toy ; A trifle, if it move but to amuse ; But, if to wrong the judgment and abuse, Worse than a poniard in the basest hand, 306 It stabs at once the morals of a land. Ye writers of what none with safety reads ; Footing it in the dance that Fancy leads; Ye novelists, who mar what ye would mend, Sniveling and driv'hng folly without end ; 310 Whose corresponding misses fill the ream With sentimental frippery and dream. Caught in a delicate soft silken net By some lewd earl, or rakehell baronet ; Ye pimps, who under virtue's fair pretence, 315 Steal to the closet of young innocence, And teach her, unexperienc'd yet and green, To scribble as you scribbled at fifteen j Who, kindling a combustion of desire. With some cold moral think to quench the fire , 320 Though all your engineering proves in vain, Th9 dribbling stream ne'er puts it out again. O that a verse had pow'r, and could command Far, far away these flesh-flies of the land j Who fasten without mercy on the fair, 326 And suck, and leave a craving maggot there ! Howe'er disguis'd, th' inflammatory tale. And cover'd with a fine-spun specious veil; Such writers, and such readers, owe the gust And relish of their pleasure all to lust. 330 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 41 But the mus©, eagle pinion'd, has in view A quarry more important still than you ; Down, down the wind she swims, and sails away, Now stoops upon it, and now grasps the prey. Petronius ! all the muses weep for thee ; 335 But ev'ry tear shall scald thy memory ; The graces too, while Virtue at their shrine, Lay bleeding under that soft hand of thine, Felt each a mortal stab in her own breast, Abhorr'd the sacrifice, and curs'd the priest. 340 Thou polish'd and high finish'd foe to truth, Graybeard corrupter of our list'ning youth. To purgre and skim away the filth of vice. That so refin'd it might the more entice. Then pour it on the morals of thy son ; 345 To taint his heart, was worthy of thine own ! Now, while the poison a^ high life pervades, Write, if thou canst, one letter from the shades. One, and one only, charg'd with deep regret, That thy worst part, thy principles, live yet ; 350 One sad epistle thence may cure mankind Of the plague spread by bundles left behind. •Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears, Our most important are our earliest years ; The Mind, impressible and soft, with ease 355 Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees. And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clew, That Education gives her, false or true, Plants rais'd with tenderness are seldom strong ; Man's coltish disposition asks the thong ; 360 And, without discipline, the fav'rite child, Like a neglected forester, runs wild. But we, as if good qualities would grow Spontaneous, take but little pains to sow ; We give some Latin, and a smatch of Greek ; 961 Teach him to fence, and figure twice a week : And having done, we think the best wo can, Praise his proficiency, and dub him oxaa. 42 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. From school to Cam or Isis, and thence home ; And thence with all convenient speed to Rome, 370 With rev'rend tutor clad in habit lay, To tease for cash, and quarrel with all day ; With memorandum book for ev'ry town. And ev'ry post, and where the chaise broke down., ^ His stock, a few French phrases got by heart, 3QV With much to learn, but nothing to impart : The youth, obedient to his sire's commands, Sets off a wanderer into foreign lands. Surpris'd at all they meet, the gosling pair, With awkward gait, stretch'd neck, am silly stare, Discover huge cathedrals built with stone, 381 And steeples tow'ring high much like our own ; But show peculiar light by many a grin At popish practices observ'd within. Ere long some bowing, smirking, smart abb6 385 Remarks two loit'rers, that have lost their way j And being always prim'd with politesse For men of their appearance and address, With much compassion undertakes the task, To tell them more than they have wit to ask ; 390 Points to inscriptions wheresoe'er they tread, Such as, when legible, were never read, But, being canker'd now and half worn out, Craze antiquarian brains with endless doubt ; Some headless hero, or some Caesar shows — 395 Defective only in his Roman nose ; Exhibits elevations, drawings, plans. Models of Herculanean pots and pans ; And sells them medals, which, if neither rare > Nor ancient, will be so, preserv'd with care. 400 Strange the recital ! from whatever cause His great improvement and new light he draws, The squire, once bashful, is shamefac'd no more, But teems with pow'rs he never felt before : Whether incrcas'd momentum, and th« force 405 With which from clime to clime he sped his course, J THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 43 As axles sometimes kindle as they go,) Chaf 'd him, and brought dull nature to a glow ; Or whether clearer skies and softer air, Tliat make Italian flow'rs so sweet and fair, 410 Fresh'ning his lazy spirits as he ran, Unfolded genially and spread the man : Returning he proclaims by many a grace. By shrugs and strange contortionsof his face, How much a dunce, that has been sent to roam, 415 Excels a dunce, that has been kept at home. Accomplishments have taken virtue's place. And wisdom falls before exteriour grace : Wg slight the precious kernel of the stone. And toil to polish its rough coat alone. 420 A just deportment, manners grac'd with ease. Elegant phrase, and figure form'd to please. Are qualities that seem to comprehend Whatever parents, guardians, schools, intend ; Hence an unfurnish'd and a listless mind, 425 Though busy, trifling ; empty, though refin'd ; Hence all that interferes, and dares to clash With indolence and luxury, is trash : While learning, once the man's exclusive pride, Seems verging fast towards the female side. 430 Learning itself, receiv'd into a mind By nature weak, or viciously inclin'd. Serves but to lead philosophers astray, Where children would with ease discern the way. And of all arts sagacious dupes invent, 435 To cheat themselves and gain the world's assent, The worst is — Scripture warp'd from its intent The carriage bowls along, and all are pleas'd If Tom be sober, and the wheels well greas'd ; But if the rogue have gone a cup too far, 440 Left out his linchpin or forgot his tar. It suffers interruption and delay. And meets with hind'rance in the Bmoothest way When some hypothesis absurd and vain 44 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. Has fill'd with all its fumes a critick's brain, 445 The text, that sorts not with liis darling whim, Though plain to others, is obscure to him. The will made subject to a lawless force. All is irregular and out of course ; And judgment drunk, and brib'd to lose his way, 450 Winks hard, and talks of darkness at noonday. A critick on the sacred book should bo Candid and learn'd, dispassionate and freo ; Free from the wayward bias bigots feel. From fancy's influence, and intemperate zeal ; 455 But above all, (or let the wretch refrain, Nor touch the page he cannot but profane,) Free from the domineering power of lust ; A lewd interpreter is never just. How shall I speak thee, or thy power address, 460 Thou god of our idolatry, the press ? By thee, reUgion, liberty, and laws. Exert their influence, and advance their cause ; By thee worse plagues than Pharaoh's land befell, Diffus'd, make earth the vestibule of Hell ; 465 Thou fountain, at which drink the good and wise j Thou ever-bubbling spring of endless lies ; Like Eden's dread probationary tree, Knowledge of good and evil is from thee. No wild enthusiast ever yet could rest, 470 Till half mankind were like himself possess'd. Philosophers, who darken and put out Eternal truth by everlasting doubt ; Cliurch quacks, with passions under no command. Who fill the world with doctrines contraband, 475 Discov'rers of they know not what, confin'd Within no bounds — the blind that lead the blind ; To streams of popular opinion drawn. Deposit in those shallows all their spawn. The wriggling fry soon fill the creeks around, 480 Pois'ning the v/aters where their swarms abound Scorn'd by the nobler tenants of the flood, THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 45 Minnows and gudgeons gorge the unwholesome food. The propagated myriads spread so fast, E'en Lewenhoeck himself would stand aghast, 485 Employ *d to calculate th* enormous sum. And own his crab-computing powers o'ercomd. Is this hyperbole ? The world well known, Your sober thoughts will hardly find it one. Fresh confidence the speculatist takes « 490 From every hair-brain'd proselyte he makes : And therefore prints. Himself but half deceiv'd, Till others have the soothing tale belie v*d. Hence comment after comment, spun as fine As^lggi,ted spiders draw the flimsy line. 495 Hence the same word, that bids our lusts obey, Is misapplied to sanctify their sway. If stubborn Greek refuse to be his friend, Hebrew or Syriack shall be forc'd to bend. _ If languages and copies all cry. No — 500 Somebody prov'd it centuries ago. Like trout pursued, the eritick in despair Darts to the mud, and finds his safety there. Women, whom custom has forbid to fly The scholar's pitch, (the scholar best knows why,) 505 With all the simple and unletter'd poor, Admire his learning, and almost adore. Whoever errs, the priest can ne'er be wrong, With such fine words familiar to his tongue. Ye ladies ! (for indifi*'rent in your cause, 510 I should deserve to forfeit all applause,) Whatever shocks or gives the least ofience To virtue, delicacy, truth, or sense (Try the criterion, 'tis a faithful guide,) Nor has, nor can have. Scripture on its side. 515 Nono but an author knows an author's cares, Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears. Committed once into the publick arms. The baby seems to smile with added charms. Like something precious ventur'd far from shoro, 590 46 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 'Tis valued for the danger's sake the more. He views it with complacency supremo, Solicits kind attention to his dream ; And daily more enamour'd of the cheat Kneels, and asks Heav'n to bless the dear deceit. 525 So one, whose story serves at least to show Men lov'd their own productions long ago, Woo'd an unfeeling statue for his wife. Nor rested till the gods had giv'n it life. If some mere driv'Uer suck the sugar'd fib, 530 One that still needs his leading string and bib, And praise his genius, he is soon repaid In praise applied to the same part — his head • For 'tis a rule, that holds for ever true, Grant me discernment, and I grant it you. 535 Patient of contradiction as a child, Affable, humble, diffident, and mild ; Such was Sir Isaac, and such Boyle and Locke : Your blund'rer is as sturdy as a rock The creature is so sure to kick and bite, 540 A muleteer's the man to set him right. First Appetite enlists him Truth's sworn foe, Then obstinate Self-will confirms him so. Tell him he wanders ; that his errour leads To fatal ills ; that, tho' the path he treads 545 Be flow'ry, and he see no cause of fear. Death and the pains of Hell attend !iim there ; In vain : the slave of arrogance and pride, He has no hearing on the prudent side. His still-refuted quirks he still repeats ; 650 New-rais'd objections with nev/ quibbles meets ; Till, sinking in the quicksand he defends, He dies disputing, and the contest ends — But not the mischiefs ; they, still left behind, Like thistle seeds, are sown by every wind. 555 Thus men go wrong with an ingenious skill ; Bend the straight rule to their own crooked will ; And with a clear and shining lamp supphed. THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. 47 First put it out, then take it for a guide. Halting on crutches of unequal size, 560 One leg by truth supported, one by lies ; They sidle to the goal with awkward pacoi Secure of nothing — ^but to lose the race. Faults in the life breed errours in the brain^ And these reciprocally those again. 565 The mind and conduct mutually imprint And stamp theit imago in each other*s mint ; Each sire, and dam, of an infernal race, Begetting and conceiving all that's base. None sends his arrow to the mark in view, 670 Whose hand is feeble, or his aim untrue. For tho', ere yet the shaft is on the wing, Or when it first forsakes th' elastick string. It err but little from th' intended line. It falls at last far wide of his design ; 575 So he, who seeks a mansion in the sky. Must watch his purpose with a steadfast eye . That prize belongs to none but the sincere, The least obliquity is fatal here. With caution taste the sweet Circean cup : 580 He that sips often at last drinks it up. Habits are soon assum'd ; but when we strive To strip them off, 'tis being flay'd alive. Call'd to the temple of impure delight, Ho that abstains, and he alone, does right. 585 If a wish wander that way, call it home ; ^ ' He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam.'''^^3 r"»H4 But, if you pass the threshold, you are caught ; Die then, if pow'r Almighty save you not. There hard'iiing by degrees, till double steel'd, 590 Take leave of Nature's God, and God reveal'd; Then laugh at all you trembled at before ; And, joining the free thinkers' brutal roar, Swallow the two grand nostrums they dispense- That Scripture lies, and blasphemy is sense. 595 48 THE PROGRESS OF ERROUR. If clemency revolted by abuse Be damnable, then danm'd without excuse. Some dream that they can silence when they will, The storm of passion, and say, " Peace^ he still ;'* But, " Thus far and no farther " when address'd 600 To the wild wave, or wilder human breast, Implies authority th?Lt never can, That never ought to be the lot of man. But, muse, forbear ; long flights forebode a fall ; Strike on the deep-ton'd chord the sum of all. 605 Hear the just law — the judgment of the skies ! He that hates truth shall be the diipe of lies : And he that will be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as Hell shall bind him fast. But if the wand'rer his mistake discern, 610 Judge his own ways and sigh for a return, Be wilder 'd once, must he bewail his loss Tor ever and for ever ? No — the cross ! There, and there only, (though the deist rave, And atheist, if earth bear so base a slave ;) " 615 There, and there only, is the power to save. There no delusive hope invites despair ; No mock'ry meets you, no deception there. The spells and charms, that blinded you before, All vanish there, and fascinate no more. 620 I am no preacher, let this hint suffice — The cross once seen is death to ev'ry Vice ; Else he that hung there, suffer'd all his pain, Bled, groaned, and agoniz'd, and died in vain. TRUTH. Pensantur triutin^— -Hor. Lib. II. Epist. I MAN, on the dubious waves of errour toss'd, His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost, Sees far as human opticks may command, A sleeping fog, and fancies it dry land ! Spreads all his canvass, ev'ry sinew plies j 5 Pants fbr't, aims at it, enters it, and dies ' Then farewell all self-satisfying schemes, His well-buire'systems, philosophick dreams Deceitful views of future bliss, farewell ! He reads his sentence at the flames of Hell. 10 Hard lot of man — to toil for the revard Of virtue, and yet lose it ! Wherefore hard ? — He that would win the race must guide his horse Obedient to the customs of the course ; Else, tho' unequall'd to the goal he flies, 15 A meaner than himself shall gain the prize. Grace leads the right way ; if you choose the wrong, Take it and perish ; but restrain your tongue ; Charge not with light sufficient, and left free, Your wilful suicide on God's decree. 20 Oh how unlike the complex works of man, HeavVs easy, artless, unencumber'd plan ! No meretricious graces to beguile. No clustering ornaments to clog the pile ; From ostentation as from weakness free, 25 It stands like the cerulean arch we see, Majestick in its own sirnphcity. Vol. I. 5 50 TRUTH. Inscrib'd above the portal, from afar Conspicuous as the brightness of a star, Legible only by the light tliey give, 30 Stand the soul-quick'ning words — believe and live. Too many, shock'd at what should charm them most, Despise the plain direction, and are lost. Heav'n on such terms ! (they cry with proud disdain,) Incredible, impossible, and vain ! — 35 Rebel, because 'tis easy to obey : And scorn, for its own sake, the gracious way. These are the sober, in whose cooler brains Some thought of immortality remains; The rest too busy or too gay to wait 40 On the sad theme, their everlasting state, Sport for a day, and perish in a night, The foam upon the waters not so light. Who judg'd the pharisee ? What odious cause Exposed him to the vengeance of the laws ? 4t Had he seduc'd a virgin, wrong 'd a friend, Or stabb'd a man to serve some private end ? Was blasphemy his sin ? Or did he stray From the strict duties of the sacred day ? Sit long and late at the carousing board ? ^ (Such were the sins with which he charged his Lord.) No — the man's morals were exact, what then ? 'Twas his ambition to be seen of men ; His virtues were his pride ; and that one vice Made all his virtues gewgaws of no price j 5i» He wore them as fine trappings for a show, A praying, synagogue-frequenting beau. The self-applauding bird, the peacock, see Mark what a sumptuous pharisee is he ! Meridian sunbeams tempt him to unfold (^ His radiant glories, azure, green, and gold ; He treads as if some solemn musick near, His measur'd step were govern'd by his ear j And seems to say — ^Ye meaner fowl, give place, I am all splendour, dignity, and grace ! 65 TRUTH. 61 Not so the pheasant on his charms presumes, Though he too has a glory in his plumes, He, christian-like, retreats with modest mion To the close copse, or far sequester'd green, \ And shines without desiring to be seen. j 70 The plea of works, as arrogant and vain, I Heav'n turns from with abhorrence and disdain ; • Not more affronted by avow'd neglect. Than by the mere dissembler's feign'd respect. What is all righteousness that men devise ? 75 What — ^but a sordid bargain for the skies ? But Christ as soon would abdicate his own. As stoop from Heav'n to sell the proud a throne- His dwelling a recess in some rude rock, Book, beads, and maple dish, liis meagre stock . 80 In shirt of hair and weeds of canvass dress'd, Girt with a bell rope that the pope has bless'd ; Adust with stripes told out for ev'ry crime, And sore tormented long before his time ; His pray'r preferr'd to saints that cannot aid ; 85 His praise postpon'd, and never to be paid ', See the sage hermit, by mankind admir'd, With all that bigotry adopts inspir'd. Wearing out life in his religious whim, Till his religious whimsy wears out him. 90 His works, his abstinence, his zeal allow'd, You think him humble — God accounts him proud ; High in demand, though lowly in pretence, Of all his conduct this the genuine sense — My penitential stripes, my streaming blood, 95 Have purchas'd Heav'n, and prov'd my title good. Turn eastward now, and Fancy shall apply To your weak sight her telescopick eye. The bramin kindles on his own bare head The sacred fire, self- torturing his trade ; 100 His voluntary pains, severe and long. Would give a barb'rous air to British song ; No grand inquisitor oould worse invent, 52 TRUTS ' Than h© cohtrivcis to suiFer, well content. Which is the saintlier worthy of the two ? 105 Past all dispute, yon anchorite, say you. Your sentence and mine differ. What s a name ^ 1 say the bramin has the fairer claim. If suff 'rings. Scripture no where recommends, Devi /d by self to answer selfish ends, 110 Give saintship, then all Europe must agree Ten starving hermits suffer less than he. The truth, is, (if the truth may suit your eat And prejudice have left a passage clear,) Pride has attain'd its most luxuriant growth, 115 And poison 'd ev'ry virtue in them both. Pride may be pamper'd while the flesh grows lean ; Humility may clothe an English dean ; That grace was Cowper's — his, confess'd by all — Though plac'd in golden Durham's second stall. 120 Not all the plenty of a bishop's board, His palace, and his lacqueys, and " My lord," More nourish pride, that condescending vice, Than abstinence, and beggary, and lice ; It thrives in mis'ry, and abundant grows ; 125 In mis'ry fools upon themselves impose. But why before us protestants produce An Indian mystick, or a French recluse ? Their sin is plain ; but what have we to fear, Reform'd and well instructed ? You shall hear. 130 Yon ancient prude, whose wither 'd features show She might be young some forty years ago, Her elbows pinion'd close upon her liips. Her head erect, her fan upon her lips. Her eye-brows arch*d, her eyes both gone astray 135 To watch yon am'rous couple in their play, With bony and unkerchierd neck defies The rude inclemency of wintry skies, And sails with lappet head and mincing airs. Duly at clink of bell to morning pray'rs. 140 To thrift and parsimony much inclin'd, TRUTH. 53 She yet allows herself that boy behind ; The shiv'ring urchin, bending as he goes, With slipshod heels, and dewdrop at his nose ; His predecessor's coat advanced to wear, 145 Which future pages yet are doom'd to share, Carries her Bible tuck'd beneath his arm, And hides his hands to keep his fingers warm. She half an angel in her own account, Doubts not hereafter with the saints to mount. 150 Though not a grace appears on strictest search, But that she fasts, and, eiem, goes to church. Conscious of age she recollects her youth. And tells, not always, with an eye to truth. Who spann'd her waist, and who, where'er he caire, Scrawl'd upon glass Miss Bridget's lovely name ; 156 Who stole her slipper, fill'd it with tokay, And drank the little bumper ev'ry day. Of temper as envenom'd as an asp, Censorious, and her ev'ry word a wasp ; 160 In faithful mem'ry she records the crimes, Or real or fictitious of the times ; Laughs at the reputations she has torn, And holds them dangling at arm's length in scora. Such are the fruits of sanctimonious pride, 165 Of malice fed while flesh is mortified : ^ Take, Madam, the reward of all your pray*rs, Where hermits and where bramins meet with theurs , Your portion is with them. — Nay, never frown, But if you please, some fathoms lower down. 170 Artist, attend — ^your brushes and your paint — Produce them — take a chair — ^now draw a saint. Oh sorrowful and sad ! the streaming tears Channel her cheeks — a Niobe appears ! Is this a saint f Throw tints and all away — 175 True Piety is cheerful as the day. Will weep indeed and heave a pitying groan For others' woes, but smiles upon her own. What purpose has the King of saints in view ? 5* 64 TRUTH. Why falls the Gospel like a gracious dew ? 180 To call up plenty from the teeming earth, Or curse the desert with a tenfold dearth ? Is it that Adam's offspring may be sav'd From servile fear, or be the more enslav'd ? To loose the links that gall'd mankind before, 185 Or bind them faster on, and add still more ? The freeborn Christian has no chains to prove, Or, if a chain, the golden one of love ; No fear attends to quench liis glowing fires, Wliat fear he feels his gratitude inspires. 190 Shall he for such deliv'rance freely wrought, Recompense ill ? He trembles at the thought. His master's interest and his own combin'd, Prompt ev'ry movement of his heart and mind ; Thought, word, and deed, his liberty evince, 195 His freedom is the freedom of a prince. Man's obligations infinite, of course His life should prove that he perceives their force ; His utmost he can render is but small — The principle and motive all in all. 206 You have two servants — Tom, an arch, sly rogue, From top to toe the Geta now in vogue, Genteel in figure, easy in address, Moves without noise, and swift as an express. Reports a niessage with a pleasing grace, 205 Expert in all the duties of his place ; Say, on what hinge does his obedience move ^ Has he a world of gratitude and love ? No, not a spark — 'tis all mere sharper's piay He likes your house, your housemaid, and your pay ; Reduce his wages, or get rid of her, 211 Tom quits you, with — ^Your most obedient. Sir. The dinner serv'd, Charles takes his usual stand, Watches your eye, anticipates command ; Sighs, if perhaps your appetite should fail , 215 And, if he but suspects a frown, turns pale ; Consults all day your int'rest and your ease, TRUTH. tt Richly rewarded if he can but please ; And, proud to make his firm attachment known, To save your life, would nobly risk his own. 220 Now which stands highest in your serious thought ? Charles, without doubt, say you — and so he ought ; One act^ that from a thankful heart proceeds, Excels ten thousand mercenary deeds. Thus Heav'n approves as honest and sincere, 225 The work of generous love, and filial fear ; But with averted eyes th' omniscient Judg6 Scorns the base hireling, and the slavish drudge. Where dwell these matchless saints ? — old Curio cries : Ev'n at your side, Sir, and before your eyes, 230 The favour 'd few — th' enthusiasts you despise. And pleas'd at heart, because on holy ground Sometimes a canting hypocrite is found, Reproach a people with a single fall. And cast his filthy garment at them all. 235 Attend ! — an apt similitude shall show "Whence springs the conduct that offends you so. See where it smokes along the sounding pl^un, Blown all aslant, a driving, dashing rain, Peal upon peal redoubling all around, 240 Shakes it again and faster to the ground : Now flashing wide, now glancing as in play. Swift beyond thought the lightnings dart away. Ere yet it came the trav'Uer urg'd his steed. And hurried, but with unsuccessfiil speed ; 245 Now drench'd throughout, and hopeless of his case. He drops the rein, and leaves him to his pace. Suppose, unlook*d for in a scene so rude. Long hid by interposing hill or wood, Some mansion, neat and elegantly dress'd, 250 By some kind hospitable heart possess'd, Offer him warmth, security, and rest ; Think with what pleasure, safe, and at his ease He hears the tempest howling in the trees ; What glowing thanks his lips and heart employ 255 66 TRUTH. Wliile danger past is turn'd to present joy. So fares it with the sinner, when he feels A growing dread of vengeance at his heels; .^ His conscience, like a glassy lalte before, i Lash'd into foaming v/aves begins to roar ; 260 I The law grown clamorous, though silent long. Arraigns him, — charges him with ev'ry wrong- Asserts the rights of his offended Lord, And death or restitution is the word ; The last impossible — he fears the first, 265 And, having well deserv'd, expects the worst. Then welcome refuge, and a peaceful home ; Oh for a shelter from the wrath to come ! { Crush me, ye rocks; ye falling mountains, hide I Or bury me in ocean's angry tide — 270 I The scrutiny of those all-seeing eyes I dare not — And you need not, God replies : The remedy you want I freely give ; Tiie book shall teach you — read, beheve, and live. 'Tis done — the raging storm is heard no more, 275 Mercy receives him on her peaceful shore ; And justice, guardian of the dread command, Drops the red vengeance from his willing hand. A soul redeem'd demands a life of praise ; Hence the complexion of his future days, 280 Hence a demeanour holy and unspeck'd, And the world's hatred, as its sure effect. Some lead a life unblamable and just, Their own dear virtue their unshaken trust : They never sin — or if, (as all offend,) 285 Some trivial slips their daily walk attend. The poor are near at hand, the charge is small, A slight gratuity atones for all. For though the pope has lost his int'rest here, And pardons are not sold as once they were, 290 No papist more desirous to compoimd, Than some grave siimers upon English ground, That plea refuted, other quirks they seek — TRUTS. 57 Mercy is infinite, and man is weak ; The future shall obliterate the past, 295 And Heav'n no doubt shall be their home at last. Come then — a still small whisper in your ear — He has no hope who never had a fear ; And he that never doubted of his state. He may perpaps — ^perhaps he may — too late. 300 The path to bliss abounds with many a snare ; Learning is one, and wit, however rare. The Frenchman, first in literary fame, (Mention him if you please. Voltaire ?-^l!h.e same,) With spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied, 305 Liv'd long, wrote much, laugh'd heartily, and died ; The Scripture was his jest book, whence he drew Bon mots to gall the Christian and the Jew ; An infidel in health, but what when sick ? Oh — ^then a text would touch him at the quick : 310 View him at Paris in his last career. Surrounding throngs the demigod revere, Exalted on his pedestal of pride. And fiim'd with frankincense on ev'ry side. He begs their flattery with his latest breath, 315 And sraother'd in't at last, is prais'd to death. Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door, Pillow and bobbins all her little store ; Content, though mean, and cheerful if not gay Shuffling her threads about the livelong day, 330 Just earns a scanty pittance, and at night Lies down secure, her heart and pocket light ; She, for her humble sphere by nat le fit, Has little understanding, and no wit. Receives no praise ; but though hor lot be such, 325 (Toilsome and indigent,) she renders much : Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true — A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew ; And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes Her title to a treasure in the skies. 330 O happy peasant ! Oh unhappy bard ! 58 TRUTH. His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward ; He prais'd perhaps for ages yet to come, She never heard of half a mile from homo : He, lost in errours, his vain heart prefers, 335 She, safe in the simplicity of hers. Not many wise, rich, noble, or profound In science, win one inch of heavenly ground. And is it not a mortifying thought Tiie poor should gain it, and the rich should rot. 340 No, — the voluptuaries, who ne'er forget One pleasure lost, lose Heav'n without regret ; Regret would rouse them, and give birth to pray'r, Pray'r would add faith, and faith would fix them there. Not that the Former of us all, in this, 345 Or ought he does, is govern'd by caprice ; The supposition is replete with sin, And bears the brand of blasphemy burn'd in. Not so — the silver trumpet's heav'nly call Sounds for the poor, but sounds alike for all : 350 Kings are invited, and would kings obey, No slaves on earth more welcome were than they ; But royalty, nobility, and state, Are such a dead preponderating weight, That endless bliss, (how strange soe'er it seem,) 355 In counterpoise, flies up and kicks the beam. 'Tis open, and ye cannot enter, — why ? Because ye will not, Conyers would reply — And he says much that many may dispute And cavil at with ease, but none refute. 360 O bless'd effbct of penury and want, The seed sown there, how vig'rous is the plant ! No soil like poverty for growth divine. As leanest land supplies the richest wine. Earth gives too little, giving only bread, "365 To nourish pride, or turn the weakest head : To them the sounding jargon of the schools Seems what it is — a cap and bells for fools : The light they walk by, kindled from above, TRUTH. 59 Shows them llie slvartest way to life and love ; 370 They, strangers to the controversial field, Where deists, always foil'd, yet scorn to yield, And never check'd by what impedes the wise, Believe, rush forward, and possess the prize. Envy, yo great, the dull unletter'd small : 375 Ye have much cause for envy — ^but not all. We boast some rich ones whom the Gospel sways, And one who wears a coronet, and prays ', Like gleanings of an olive tree they show Here and there one upon the topmost bough. 380 How readily upon the Gospel plan, That question has its answer — What is man ? Sinful' and weak, in ev'ry sense a wretch ; An instrument, whose chords, upon the stretch. And strain'd to the last screw that he can bear, 385 Yield only discord in his Maker's ear : Once the bless'd residence of truth divine, Glorious as Solyma's interiour shrine, "Where, in his own oracular abode. Dwelt visibly the light-creating God : 390 But made long since like Babylon of old, A den of mischiefs never to be told ; And she, once mistress of the realms around. Now scattered wide, and no where to be found, As soon shall rise and reascend the throne, 395 By native pow'r and energy her own, As Nature at her own peculiar cost, Restore to man the glories he has lost. Go — ^bid the winter cease to chill the year, Replace the wand'ring comet in his sphere, 400 Then boast, (but wait for that unhop'd-for hour,) The self-restoring arm of human pow'r. But what is man in his own proud esteem ? Hear him — himself the poet and the theme : A monarch cloth'd with majesty and awe, 405 His Mind, his kingdom, and his will, his law * ' Grace in his mien, and glory in his eyes, 60 TRUTH. Supreme on earth, and worthy of the skies. Strength in his heart, dominion in his nod, And thunderbolts excepted, quite a god ! 4 -0 So sings he, charm'd with his own mind and form, The song magnificent — the them^ a worm ! Himself so much the source of his delight, His Maker has no beauty in his sight. See where he sits, contemplative and fix'd, 415 Pleasure and wonder in his features mix'd ; His passions tam'd, and all at his control, How perfect the composure of his soul I Complacency has breath'd a gentle gale O'er all his thoughts, and swell'd his easy sail : 420 His books well trimm'd and in the gayest style Like regimented coxcombs rank and file, Adorn his intellects as well as shelves, And teach him notions splendid as themselves : The Bible only stands neglected there, 425 Though that of all most worthy of his care ; And like an infant, troublesome awake, Is left to sleep for peace and quiet sake. What shall the man deserve of human kind, Whose happy skill and industry combined 430 Shall prove, (what argument could never yet,) The Bible an imposture and a cheat ? The praises of the libertine profess'd. The worst of men, and curses of the best. Where should the living, weeping o'er his woes ; 435 The dying, trembling at the awful close ; Where the betray'd, forsaken, and oppressed, The thousands whom the world forbids to rest. Where snoiild they find, (those comforts at an end The Scripture yields,) or hope to find a friend ? 440 Sorrow might muse herself to madness then, And seeking exile ^ from the signtof men, Bury herself in solitude profound, Grov/^frantick with her pangs, and bite the ground. Thus often Unbelief, grown sick of life, 445 TRUTH. 61 Flies to the tempting pool, or felon knife. The jury meet, the coroner is short, And lunacy the verdict of the court j Reverse the sentence, let the truth be known, Such lunacy is ignorance alone ; 450 They knew not, what some bishops may not know» That Scripture is the only cure of wo ; That field of prpmise, how it flings abroad Its odour o'er the Christian's thorny rpad! The sou, reposing on assur'd relief, 455 Feels herself happy amidst all her grief. Forgets her labour as she toils along, Weeps tears of joy, and bursts into a song. But the same word, that, like the polish'd share, Ploughs up the roots of a behever's care, 460 Kills, too, the flow*ry weeds, where'er they grow. That bind the sinner's BacchanaUan brow. Oh that unwelcome voice of heavenly love, Sad messenger of mercy from above ! How does it grate upon his thankless ear, 465 Crippling his pleasures with the cramp of fear ! His will and judgment at continual strife. That civil war imbitters all his life : In vain he points his pow'rs against the skies. In vain he closes or averts his eyes, 470 Truth will intrude — she bids him yet beware ; And shakes the sceptick in the scomer's chair. Though various foes against the truth combine. Pride above all opposes her design *, Pride, of a growth superiour to the rest, 475 The subtlest serpent with the loftiest crest. Swells at the thought, and, kindling into rage, Would hiss the cherub Mercy from the stage. And is the soul indeed so lost ? — she cries, Fall'n from her glory, and too weak to rise ? 480 Torpid and dull beneath a frozen zone. Has she no spark that may be deem'd her own ? Grant her indebted to what zealots call Vol. I. 6 62 TRUTH. Grace undeserv'd, yet surely not for all — Some beams of rectitude she yet displays, 485 Some love of virtue, and some pow'r to praise; Can lift herself above corporeal things. And, soaring on her own unborrow'd wings, Possess herself of all that's good or true, Assert the skies, and vindicate her due. 490 Past indiscretion is a venial crime. And if the youth, unmellow'd yet by time, Bore on his branch, luxuriant then and rude, Fruits of a blighted size, austere and crude, Maturer years shall happier stores produce, 495 And meliorate the well-concocted juice. Then, conscious of her meritorious zeal. To Justice she may make her bold appeal, And leave to Mercy, with a tranquil mind. The worthless and unfruitful of mankind. 500 Hear, then, how Mercy, slighted and defied. Retorts the affront against the crown of Pride. Perish the virtue as it ought, abhorr'd. And the fool with it who insults his Lord. The atonement a Redeemer's love has wrought, 505 Is not for you — the righteous need it not Seest thou yon harlot wooing all she meets. The worn-out nuisance of the publick streets. Herself from morn to night, from night to morn. Her own abhorrence, and as much your scorn ! 510 The gracious show'r, unlimited and free. Shall fall on her, when Heav n denies it thee. Of all that wisdom dictates, this the drift. That man is dead in sin, and life a gift. Is virtue, then, unless of Christian growth, 515 Mere fallacy, or foolishness, or both .'* Ten thousand sages lost in endless wo. For ignorance of what they could not know ? That speech betrays at once a bigot's tongue — Charge not a God with such outrageous wrong. 520 Truly not I — the oartial light men have. TRUTH. eS My creed persuades me, well-employ 'd, may save ; While he th^f^ scorns the noonday beam, perverse, Shall find the blessing unimprov'd, a curse. Let heathen worthies, whose exalted mind 525 Left sensuality and dross behind. Possess for me their undisputed lot, And take, unenvied, the reward they sought. But still in virtue of a Saviour's plea, Not blind by choice, but destin'd not to see. 530 Their fortitude and wisdom were a flame Celestial, though they knew not whence it came, Deriv'd from the same source of light and grace, That guides the Christian in his swifter race ; Their judge was conscience, and her rule their law ; That rule, pursued with reverence and with awe, 536 Led them however falt'ring, faint, and slow, From what they knew, to what they wish'd to kiujw. But let not him, that shares a brighter day, | Traduce the splendour of a noontide ray, ! 540 Prefer the twilight of a darker time , ^ And deem his base stupidity no crime ; The wretch, who slights the bounties of the skies, And sinks, while favour'd with the means to rise. Shall find them rated at their full amount, 545 The good he scorn'd all carried to account. Marshalling all his terrours as he came, Thunder, and earthquake, and devouring flame. From Sinai's top Jehovah gave the law, Life for obedience, death for ev'ry flaw. 650 When the great sov'ieign would his will express, He gives a perfect rule , what can he less ? And guards it with a sanction as severe As vengeance can inflict, or sinners fear ; Else his own glorious rights he would disclaim, 55& And man might safely trifle with his name. He bids him glow with unremitting love To all on earth, and to himself above ; Condemns th' injurious deed, the sland'rous tongue, 64 TRUTH. The thought that meditates a brother's wr6% : 560 Brings not alone the more conspicuous part, His conduct, to the test, but tries his heart. Hark ! universal nature shook and groan'd, *Twas the last trumpet— see the Judge enthron'd I Rouse all your courage at your utmost need, 565 Now summon ev'ry virtue^stand and plead. What ! silent ? is your boasting heard no more ? That self-renouncing wisdom learn'd before, Had shed immortal glories on your brow. That all your virtues cannot purchase now. 670 All joy to the believer ! He can speak— Trembling, yet happy ; confident, yet meek. Since the dear hour that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but thine, 575 Nor hopM, but in thy righteousness divine : My pray'rs and alms, imperfect and defil'd, Were but the feeble efforts of a child ; Howe'er perform'd, it was their brightest part That they proceeded from a grateful heart ; 580 Cleans'd in thine own all-purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good ; I cast them at thy feet — my only plea Is what it was, dependence upon thee ; While struggling in the vale of tears below, 585 That never fail'd, nor shall it fail me now. Angelick gratulations rend the skies, Pride falls unpitied, never more to rise. Humility is crowned, and Faith receives the prize. EXPOSTULATION. Tantane, tarn patiens^ nulla certamine tolli Dona sines ? ViRO, WHY weeps the muse for England ? What appears In England's case, to move the muse to tears ? From side to side of her delightful isle Is she not cloth'd with a perpetual smile ? Can Nature add a charm, or Art confer 5 A new-found luxury not seen in her ? Where under Heav'n is pleasure more pursued, Or where does cold reflection less intrude ? Her fields a rich expanse of wavy corn, Pour'd out from Plenty's overflowing horn ; 10 Ambrosial gardens, in which art supplies The fervour and the force of Indian skies ; Her peaceful shores, where busy Commerce waits To pour his golden tide through all her gates ; Whom fiery suns, that scorch the russet spice 15 Of eastern groves, and oceans floor'd with ice, Forbid in vain to push his daring way To darker climes, or climes of brighter day ; Whom the winds waft where'er the billows roll. From the world's girdle to the frozen polo ; **^U T]>e chariots bounding in her wheel-worn streets, Her vaults below, where ev'ry vintage meets; Her theatres, her revels, and her sports ; The ^enes to which not youth alone resorts. 6* 6G EXPOSTULATION. But age, in spite of weakness and of pain, 25 Still haunts, in hope to dream of youth again ; All speak her happy : let the muse look round From east to west, no sorrow can be fomid ; Or only what, in cottages confin'd. Sighs unregarded to the passing wind. 30 Then wherefore weep for England ? What appears In England's case, to move the muse to tears f The prophet wept for Israel : wish'd his eyes Were fountains fed with infinite supplies : For Israel dwelt in robbery and wrong ; 35 There were the scorner's and the sland'rer's tongue ; Oaths, used as playthings or convenient tools, As interest bias'd knaves, or fashion fools j Adult'ry, neighing at his neighbour's door ; Oppression, lab'ring hard to grind the poor : 40 The partial balance, and deceitful weight ; The treach'rous smile, a mask for secret hate ; Hypocrisy, formalit/ in pray'r. And the dull service of the lip were there. Her women, insolent and self-caress'd, 45 By Vanity's unwearied finger dress'd, Forgot the blush, that virgin fears impart To modest cheeks, and borrowed one from art . Were just such trifles, without worth or use, As silly pride and idleness produce : 50 Curl'd, scented, furbelow'd, and flounced around^ With feet too delicate to touch the ground. They stretch 'd the neck, and roU'd the wanton ey«, And sigh'd for every fool that flutter'd by. He saw his people slaves to ev'ry lust, 55 Lewd, avaricious, arrogant, unjus*. : He heard the wheels of an avenging God Groan heavily along the distant ^road ; Saw Babylon set wide her two-Ieav'd brass To let the military deluge pass ; 60 Jerusalem a prey, her glory soil'd, Her princes captive, and her treasure spoil'd ; EXPOSlt^LATION. , ,, 67 — ro brrj5 soul : Wept till all Israel heard his bitter cry^ r-ruin i Thy very children watch for thy disgrace— ,^ ^^^^ ^^ A lawless brood, and curse thee to thy face. ^ qQSj{ Thy rulers load thy credit year by year, r With sums Peruvian mines could never clear ; 285 As if, like arches built with skilful hand, The more 'twere press'd the firmer it would stand. EXPOSTULATION 73 The cry in all thy ships is still the same, Speed us away to battle and to fame. Thy mariners explore the wild expanse, 290 Impatient to descry the flags of France : But though they fight as thine have ever fought. Return asham'd without the wreaths they sought Thy senate is a scene of civil jar, Chaos of contrarieties at war ; 205 Where sharp and solid, phlegmatick and light, Discordant atoms meet, ferment, and fight ', Where Obstinacy takes his sturdy stand, To disconcert what Policy has plann'd ; Where Policy is busied all night long 300 In setting right what Faction has set wrong ; Where flails of oratory tliresh the floor, That yields them chaff and dust, and nothing more. Thy rack'd inhabitants repine, complain, Tax'd till the brow of Labour sweats in vain ; 306 War lays a burden on the reeling state, And peace does nothing to relieve the weight ; Successive loads suQceeding broils impose, And sighing millions prophesy the close. Is adverse Providence, when ponder'd well, 310 So dimly writ, or difficult to spell. Thou canst not read with readiness and ease Providence adverse in events like these ? Know, then, that heavenly wisdom on this ball Creates, gives birth to, guides, consummates all ; 316 That while laborious and quick-thoughte J man Snuffs up the praise of what he seems to plan, He first conceives, then perfects his design, As a mere instrument in hands divine : Blind to the working of that secret pow'r, 320 That balances the wings of ev'ry hour, The busy trifler dreams himself alone. Frames many a purpose, and God works his own. States thrive or wither as r oons wax and wane. E'en as his will and his decrees ordain ; 225 Vol. L 7 72 EXPOSTULATION. ; When gifts perverted, or not duly piiz'd, Pleasure o'ervalued, and his grace despis'd, Provoke the vengeance of his righteous hand j -To pour down wrath upon a thankless land ; He will be found impartially severe, 256 Too just to wink, or speak the guilty cleat . j^ --^ Oh Israel, of all nations most undone ! j^^^, ^^^i^j Thy diadem displac'd, thy sceptre gone : ^., jThy temple, once thy glory, fall'n and raz'd, And thou a worshipper e'en where thou may'^t; . ^360 The services, once only without spot, ^^^ j, .^^.jr|% Mere shadows now, their ancient pomp forgot ; Thy Levites, once a consecrated host. No longer Levites, and their lineage lost, And tho^ thyself o'er ev'ry country sown, 265 With none en earth that thou canst call thine own ; Cry aloud, thou, that sittest in the dust, Cry to the proud, the cruel, and unjust j Knock at the gates of nations, rouse their fears ; Say wrath is coming, and the storm appears, 270 But raise the shrillest cry in British ears. What ails thee, restless as the waves that roar, And ffing their ibam against thy chalky shoro ; Mistress, at least while Providence shall please And trident-bearing queen of the wide seas — . 275 Why, having kept good faith, and often shown ,^^ Friendship and truth to others, iind'st thou none ? Thou that hast set the persecuted free, None interposes now to succour tliee. Countries indebted to thy pow'r, that shine 280 With light deriv'd from thee, would smother thine >^ Thy very children watch for thy disgrace— A lawless brood, and curse thee to thy face. Thy rulers load thy credit year by year, With sums Peruvian mines could never clear ; 285 As if, like arches built with skilful hand. The more 'twere press'd the firmer it would stand. EXPOSTULATION 73 The cry in all thy ships is still the same, Speed us away to battle and to fame. Thy mariners explore the wild expanse, 290 Impatient to descry the flags of France : But though they fight as tliine have ever fought^ Return ashara'd without the wreaths they sought Thy senate is a scene of civil jar, Chaos of contrarieties at war j 2D5 Where sharp and solid, phlegmatick and light, Discordant atoms meet, ferment, and fight ; Where Obstinacy takes his sturdy stand, To disconcert what PoUcy has plann'd ; Where Policy is busied all night long 300 In setting right what Faction has set wrong ; Where flails of oratory tliresh the floor, That yields them chaff and dust, and nothing more. Thy rack'd inhabitants repine, complain, Tax'd till the brow of Labour sweats in vain ; 306 War lays a burden on the reeling state, And peace does nothing to relieve the weight ; Successive loads suQceeding broils impose, And sighing millions prophesy the close. Is adverse Providence, when ponder'd well, 310 So dimly writ, or difficult to spell. Thou canst not read with readiness and ease Providence adverse in events like these ? Know, then, that heavenJy wisdom on this ball Creates, gives birth to, guides, consummates all ; 315 That while laborious and quick-thoughteJ man Snuffs up the praise of what he seems to plan, He first conceives, then perfects his design, As a mere instrument in hands divine : Blind to the working of that secret pow'r, 320 That balances the wings of ev'ry hour, The busy trifler dreams himself alone, Frames many a purpose, and God works his own. States thrive or wither as r oons wax and wane. E'en as his will and his decrees ordain ; 225 Vol. L 7 74 EXPOSTULATION. While honour, virtue, piety, bear sway, They flourish ; and as these decline, decay : In just PBsentraent of his injur'd laws. He pours contempt on them, and on their cause *. Strikes the rough thread of errour right athwart 330 The web of ev'ry scheme they have at heart j Bids rottenness invade and bring to dust The pillars of support, in which they trust, And do his errand of disgrace and shame On the chief strength and glory of the frame. 335 None ever yet impeded what he wrought. None bars him out from his most secret thought j Darkness itself before his eye is light, And Hell's close mischief naked in his sight. Stand now and judge thyself— Hast thou incurr'd His anger, who can waste thee with a word ; 341 Who poises and proportions sea and land. Weighing them in the hollow of his hand : And in whose awful sight all nations seem As grasshoppers, as dust, a drop, a dream .'' 345 Hast thou, (a sacrilege his soul abhors,) Claim'dall the glory of thy prosperous wars ? Proud of thy fleets and armies, stol'n the gem Of his just praise, to lavish it on them ? Hast thou not learn'd, what thou art often told, 350 A truth still sacred, and believ'd of old. That no success depends on spears and swords Unblest, and that the battle is the Lord's ? That courage" is his creature, and dismay The post that at his bidding speeds away, 355 Ghastly in feature, and his stamm'ring tongue With doleful rumour and sad presage hung, To quell the valour of the stoutest heart, And teach the combatant a woman's part ? That he bids thousands fly where none pursue, 360 Saves as he will by many or by few, And claims for ever as his royal right, Th' event and sure decision of the fight ? EXPOSTDLArioN. 75 Hast thou, tho' suckled at fair Freedom's breast, Exported Slav'ry to the conquered East ? 365 Pull'd down the tyrants India serv'd with dread, And rais'd thyself, a greater in their stead ? Gone thither arm'd and hungry, return'd full, Fed from the richest veins of the Mogul, A despot big with pow'r obtain'd by wealth, 370 And that obtain'd by rapine and by stealth ? With Asiatick vices stor'd thy mind, But left their virtues and thine own behind ? And having truck'd thy soul, brought home the fee. To tempt the poor to sell himself to thee ? 375 Hast thou by statute shov'd from its design The Saviour's feast, his own bless'd bread and wine, And made the symbols of atoning grace An office-key, a picklock to a place, That infidels may prove their title good 380 By an oath dipp'd in sacramental blood ? A blot, that will be still a blot, in spite Of all that grave apologists may write ; And though a bishop toil to cleanse the stain, He wipes and scours the silver cup in vain. 385 And hast thou sworn on ev'ry slight pretence, Till perjuries are common as bad pence, While thousands, careless of the damning sin, Kiss the book's outside, who ne'er look'd within ? Hast thou, when Heav'n has cloth'd thee witli dis- grace, 390 And long provok'd, repaid thee to thy face, (For thou hast known eclipses, and endur'd, Dimness and anguish, all thy beams obscur'd, When sin has shed dishonour on thy brow ; And never of a sabler hue than now,) 396 Hast thou with heart perverse and conscience sear'd, Despising all rebuke, still perse ver'd. And having chosen evil, scorn'd the voice That cried. Repent ! — and gloried in thy chf ice ^ 76 EXPOSTULATION. Thy fastings, when calamity at last 400 Suggests th' expedient of a yearly fast, What mean they ? Canst thou dream there is a pow*r In lighter diet at a later hour, To charm to sleep the threat'ning of the skies, And hide past folly from all-seeing eyes ? 405 The fast that wins deliverance, and suspends The stroke that a vindictive God intends, Is to renounce hypocrisy ; to draw Thy life upon the pattern of the law ; To war with pleasure, idoliz'd before ; 410 To vanquish lust, and wear its yoke no more. All fasting else, whatever be the pretence, Is wooing mercy by renew'd offence. Hast thou within thee sin, that in old time Brought fire from Heav'n, the sex-abusing crime, 415 Whose horrid perpetration stamps disgrace, Baboons are free from, upon human race ? Think on the fruitful and well-water'd spot That fed the flocks and herds of wealthy Lot. Where Paradise seem'd still vouchsaTd on earth, 420 Burning and scorch'd into perpetual dearth ; Or in his words who damn'd the base desire, Suff'ring the vengeance of eternal fire ; Then Nature injur'd, scandaliz'd, defil'd, Unveil'd her blushing cheek, look'd on, and smil'd j 425 Beheld with joy the lovely scene defac'd, And prais'd the wrath that laid her beauties waste. Far be the thought from any verse of mine, And farther still the form'd and fix'd design, To thrust the charge of deeds, that I detest, 430 Against an innocent unconscious breast ; The man that dares traduce, because he can With safety to himself, is not a man : An individual is a sacred mark Not to be pierc'd in play, or in the dark ; 135 But publick censure speaks a publick foe, Unless a zeal for virtue guide the blow. EXPOSTULATION. T* The priestly brotherhood, devout, smcere, From mean self-mt'rest and ambition clear, Their hope in Heav'n, servility their scorn, 440 Prompt to persuade, expostulate, and warn. Their wisdom pure, and giv'n them from above, Their usefulness ensur'd by zeal and love, As meek as the man Moses, and withal As bold as, in Agrippa*s presence, Paul, 445 Should fly the world's contaminating touch, Holy and unpolluted ; — are thine such ? Except a few with Eli's spirit bless'd, Hophni and Phineas may describe the rest. Where shall a teacher look, in days like these, 450 For ears and hearts that he can hope to please ^ Look to the poor — the simple and the plain Will hear perhaps thy salutary strain ; Humility is gentle, apt to learn, Speeik but the word, will listen and return, 455 Alas, not so ! — the poorest of the flock Are proud, and set their faces as a rock ; Denied that earthly opulence they choose, God's better gift they scofl* at and refuse. The rich, the produce of a nobler stem, 460 Are more intelligent at least — ^try them. Oh, vain inquiry ! they, without remorse, Are altogether gone a devious course ; Where beck'ning Pleasure leads them, wildly stray, Have burst the bands, and cast the yoke away. 465 Now borne upon the wings of truth sublime, Review thy dim original and prime. This island, spot of unreclaim'd rude earth, The cradle that receiv'd thee at thy birth. Was rock'd by many a rough Norwegian blast, 470 And Danish bowlings scar'd thee as they passed ; For thou wast bom amid the din of arms. And suck'd a breast that panted with alarms. While yet thou wast a grov'ling puling chit. Thy bones not fashion'd, and thy joints not knit, 475 7* 78 • EXPOSTULATION. • The Roman taught thy stubborn knee to bow, Though twice a CcBsar could not bend thee now . His victory was of that orient light, When the sun's shafts disperse the gloom of night. Thy language at this distant moment shows 4M How much the country to the conqueror owes ; Expressive, energetick, and refin'd, It ^arkles with the gems he left behind : He brought thy land a blessing when he came ; He found thee savage, and he left thee tame ; 485 Taught thee to clothe thy pink'd and painted hide, And grace thy figure with a soldier's pride ; He sow'd the seeds of order where he went, Improv'd thee far beyond his own intent, And, while he rul'd thee by the sword alone, 490 Made thee at last a warriour like his own. Religion, if in heavenly truths attir'd. Needs only to be seen to be admir'd ; But thine, as dark as witch'ries of the night. Was form'd to harden hearts and shock the sight ; 495 Thy Druids struck the well-hung harps they bore With fingers deeply dyed in human gore ; And while the victim slowly bled to death. Upon the rolling chords rung out his dying breath. Who brought the lamp, that with awaking beams Dispell'd thy gloom, and broke away thy drieams, 501 Tradition, now decrepit and worn out. Babbler of ancient fables, leaves a doubt But still light reach'd thee ; and those gods of thine, Woden and Thor, each tottering in his shrine, 505 Fell, broken and defac'd at his own door, As Dagon in Philistia long before. But Rome with sorceries and magick wand Soon rais'd a cloud, that darken'd ev'ry land ; And thine was smother 'd in the stench and fog 51C Of Tiber's marshes and the papal bog. Then priests with bulls, and briefs, and shaven crown^ And griping fists, and unrelenting frowns, ^--^1 EXPOSTULATION. 79 Legates and delegates with pow'rs from Hell, Though heavenly in pretension, fleec'd thee well ; 515 And to this hour, to keep it fresh in mind. Some twigs of that old scourge are left behind* Thy soldiery, the pope's well-manag'd pack, Were train'd beneath his lash, and knew the smack, And when he laid them on the scent of blood, 520 Would hunt a Saracen through fire and flood. Lavish of life, to win an empty tomb. That prov'd a mint of wealth, a mine to Rome, They left their bones beneath unfriendly skies. His worthless absolution all the prize. 525 Thou wast the veriest slave in days of yore. That ever dragg'd a chain or tugg'd an oar ; Thy monarchs arbitrary, fierce, unjust, Themselves the slaves of bigotry or lust, Disdain'd thy counsels, only in distress 530 Found thee a goodly spunge for Power to press. Thy chiefs, the lords of many a petty fee, Provok'd and harass'd, in return plagu'd thee ; Call'd thee away from peaceable employ, Domestick happiness and rural joy, 535 To waste thy life in arms, or lay it down In causeless feuds and bick'rings of their own. Thy parliaments ador'd on bended knees Tlie sov'reignty they were conven'd to please ; Whate'er was ask'd, too timid to resist, 540 Complied with, and were graciously dismissed ; And if some Spartan soul a doubt express'd. And blushing at the tameness of the rest, Dar'd to suppose the subject had a choice. He was a traitor by the general voice. 645 O slave ! with powers thou didst not dare exert, Verse cannot stoop so low as thy desert ; It shakes the sides of splenetick Disdain, Thou self-entitled ruler of the main. To trace thee to the date when yon fair sea, 550 That clips thy shores, had no such charms for thee ; * Which may be found at Doctors' Commons. 80 EXPOSTULATION. When other nations flew from coast to coast. And thou hadst neither fleet nor flag to boast. Kneel now, and lay thy forehead in the dust ; Blush if thou canst; not petrified, thou must j 555 Act but an honest and a faithful part ; Compare what then thou wast with what thou ait j And God's disposing providence confess'd, Obduracy itself must yield the rest — Then thou art bound to serve him, and to prove, 560 Hour after hour, thy gratitude and love. Has he not hid thee, and thy favour'd land, For ages safe beneath his shelt'ring hand : Giv'n thee his blessing on the clearest proof, Bid nations leagu'd against thee stand aloof, 565 And charg'd Hostility and Hate to roar, Where else they would, but not upon thy shore ? His power secur'd thee when presumptuous Spain Baptiz'd her fleet invincible in vain ; Her gloomy monarch, doubtful and resign'd 570 To ev'ry pang that racks an anxious mind, Ask'd of the waves that broke upon liis coast, What tidings ? and the surge replied — All lost ! And when the Stuart, leaning on the Scot, Then too much fear'd and now too much forgot, 575 Pierc'd to the very centre of the realm, And hop'd to seize his abdicated helm, *Twas but to prove how quickly with a frown. He that had rais'd thee could have pluck'd thee down. Peculiar is the grace by thee possess'd, 580 Thy foes implacable, thy land at rest ; Thy thunders travel over earth and seas, And all at home is pleasure, wealth, and ease. 'Tis thus, extending his tempestuous arm, Thy Maker fills the nations with alarm, 585 While his own Heav'n surveys the troubled scene, And feels no change, unshaken and serene. Freedom, in other lands scarce known to shine, Pours out a flood of splendour upon thine j EXPOSTULATION. 81 Thou hast as bright an int'rest in her rays, 590 As ever Roman had in Rome's best days. True freedom is where no restraint is known, That Scripture, justice, and good sense disown ; Where only vice and injury are tied. And all from shore to shore is free beside. 595 Such freedom is — and Windsor's hoary tow*rs Stood trembling at the boldness of thy pow'rs, That won a nymph on that immortal plain, Like Iier the fabled Phoebus woo'd in vain ; He found the laurel only — happier you, 600 Th' unfading laurel and the virgin too !* Now think, (if pleasure have a thought to spare , If God himself be not beneath her care ; Tf business, constant as the wheels of time. Can pause an hour to read a serious rhyme ; 605 If the new mail thy merchants now receive, Or expectation of the next give leave,) O think, if chargeable with deep arrears For such indulgence gilding all thy years, How much, though long neglected, shining yet, 610 The beams of heavenly truth have swell'd the debt. When persecuting zeal made royal sport With tortur'd innocence in Mary's court, And Bonner, blithe as shepherd at a wake, Enjoy'd the show, and danc'd about the stake ; 615 The sacred book, its value understood, Receiv'd the seal of martyrdom in blood. Those holy men, so full of truth and grace, Seem to reflection of a different race ; Meek, modest, venerable, wise, sincere, G20 In such a cause they could not dare to fear j They could not purchase earth with such a prize. Or spare a hfe too short to reach the skies. * Alluding to the grant of Magna Charta, which was ex- torted from King John by the barons at Riannymede, near Windsor. B2 EXPOSTULATION. From them to thee convey 'd along the tide, Their streaming hearts pour'd freely, when they died ; Those truths, which neither use nor years impair, 02fi Invite thee, woo thee, to the bliss the}'- share. What dotage will not vanity maintain ? What web too weak to catch a modern brain ? The moles and bats in full assembly find 630 On special search, the keen-ey'd eagle blind. And did they dream, and art thou wiser now ? Prove it — if better, I submit and bow. Wisdom and goodness are twin-born, one heart Must hold both msters, never seen apart. 635 So then — as darkness overspread the deep, Ere Nature rose from her eternal sleep. And this delightful earth, and that fair sky, Leap'd out of nothing, call'd by the Most High ; By such a change thy darlmess is made light, 640 Thy chaos order, and thy weakness might ; And He whose pow'r mere nullity obeys, Who found thee nothing, form'd thee for his praise. To praise him is to serve him, and fulfil, Doing and sufTring, his unquestion'd will ; 645 'Tis to beUeve what men inspir'd of old, Faithful, and faithfully inform'd, unfold ; Candid and just, v/itli no false aim in view, To take for truth what cannot but be true ; To learn in God's own school the Christian part, 650 And bind the task assign'd thee to thine heart : Happy the man there seeking and there found, Happy the nation where such men abound. How shall a verse impress thee ? by wliat nams Shall I adjure thee not to court thy shame ? 655 Jly theirs, whose bright example unimpeach'd. Directs thee to that eminence they reach'd, Heroes and worthies of days past, thy sires .'' Or his, who touch'd their hearts with hallow'd firop Their names, alas ! in vairi reproach an age, Whom all the vanities they scorn'd engage * EXPOSTULATION. 83 And His, that seraph's trembled at, is hung Disgracefully on ev'ry trifler's tongue, Or serves the champion in forensick war To flourish and parade with at the bar. 665 Pleasure herself perhaps suggests a plea, If interest move thee, to persuade e'en thee ; By ev'ry charm, that smiles upon her face, Pty joys possess'd, and joys still held in chase, If dear society bo worth a thought, 670 And if the feast of freedom cloy thee not, Reflect that these, and all that seem thine own, Held by the tenure of his will alone, Like angels in the service of their Lord, Remain with thee, or leave thee at his word , 675 That gratitude and temperance in our use Of what he gives, unsparing, and profuse Secure the favour, and enhance the joy, That thankless waste and wild abuse destroy. But, above all, reflect, how cheap soe'er 680 Those rights that millions envy thee appear. And though resolv'd to risk them, and swim down The tide of pleasure, heedless of his frown. That blessings truly sacred, and when giv'n, Mark'd with the signature and stamp of Heav'n, 685 The word of prophecy, those truths divine. Which make that Heav'n, if thou desire it, thine. Awful alternative ! believ'd, belov'd, (Thy glory, and thy shame if unimprov'd,) Are never long vouchsaTd, if push'd aside 690 With cold disgust, or philosophick pride ; And that judicially withdrawn, disgrace^ Ex-rour, and darkness, occupy their place. A world is up in arms, and thou, a spot Not quickly found if negligently sought, 695 Thy soul as ample as thy boimds are small, Endur'st the brunt, and dar'st defy them aU And wilt thou join to this bold enterprise, A bolder still, a contest with the skies ? 84 EXPOSTULATION. Remember, if He guard thee and secure, 700 Whoe'er assails thee, thy success is sure ; But if He leave thee, though the skill and pow*r Of nations sworn to spoil thee and devour, Were all collected in thy single arm, And thou could'st laugh away the fear of harm, 705 That strength would fail, oppos'd against the pjish And feeble onset of a pigmy rush. Say not, (and if the thought of such defence Should spring within thy bosom, drive it thence,) What nation amongst all my foes is free 710 From crimes as base as any charg'd on me ? Their measure fiU'd, they too shall pay the debt. Which God, though long forborne, will not forget. But know that wrath divine, when most severe. Makes justice still the guide of his career, 715 And will not punish, in one mingled crowd, Them without light, and thee without a cloud. Muse, hang this iKirp upon yon aged beech. Still murm'ring with the solemn truths I teach ; And while at intervals a cold blast sings 720 Through the dry leaves and pants upon the strings, My soul shall sigh in secret, and lament A nation scourg'd, yet tardy to repent. I know the warning song is sung in vain ; That few will hear, and fewer heed the strain ; 725 But if a sweeter voice, and one design'd A blessing to my country and mankind, Reclaim the wand'ring thousands, and bring home A flock so scatter'd and so wont to roam. Then place it once again between my knees ; 730 The sound of truth will then be sure to please : And truth alone, where'er my life be cast, In scenes of plenty, or the pining waste. Shall be mj chosen theme, my glory to the last. HQPE. doceas iter, et sacra ostea pandas. ViRG. En, 6. ASK what is human life — ^the sage replies, With disappointment low'ring in his eyes, A painful passage o'er a restless flood ; A vain pursuit of fugitive false good 5 A scene of fancied bliss and heart-felt care, 5 Closing at last in darkness and despair. The poor, inur'd to drudg'ry and distress, Act without aim, think little, and feel less, And no where, but in feign'd Arcadian scenes. Taste happiness, or know what pleasure means. 10 Riches are pass'd away from hand to hand, As fortune, vice, or folly may command ; As in a dance, the pair that take the lead Turn downward, and the lowest pair succeed, So shifting and so various is the plan, 15 By which Hcav'n rules the mix'd affairs of man ; Vicissitude wheels round the motley crowd, TJio rich grow poor, the poor become purse-proud ; Business is labour, and man's weakness such. Pleasure is labour too, arid tires as much. 20 The very sense of it foregoes its use. By repetition pall'd, by age obtuse, f outh lost in dissipation, we deplore. Through life's sad remnant, what no sighs restore : Vol.. I. 8 86 HOPE. T ur years a fruitless race without a prize, 25 Poo many, yet too few to make us wise. Dangling his cane about, and taking snuff, Lothario cries, What philosophick stuff- O querulous and weak ! — ^whose useless brain Once thought of nothing, and now thinks in vain j 30 Whose eye reverted weeps o'er all the past, Whose prospect shows thee a disheart'ning waste : Would age in thee resign his wintry reign, And youth invigorate that frame again, Renew'd desire would grace with other speech 35 Joys always priz'd, when plac'd within our reach. For, lift thy palsied head, shake off the gloom That overhangs the borders of thy tomb. See Nature gay as when she first began, With smiles alluring her admirer man ; 40 She spreads the morning over eastern hills, Earth glitters with the drops the night distils ; The sun, obedient at her call, appears. To fling his glories o'er the robe she wears ; Banks cloth'd with flow'rs, groves fill'd with sprightly sounds, 45 The yellow tilth, green meads, rocks, rising grounds, Streams edg'd with osiers, fatt'ning ev'ry field. Where'er they flow, now seen, and now conceal'd ; From the blue rim, where skies and mountains meet, Down to the very turf beneath thy feet, 50 Ten thousand charms, that only fools despise, Or Pride can look at with indiff'rent eyes. All speak one language, all with one sweet voice Cry to her universal realm. Rejoice ! Man feels the spur of passions and desires ; 55 And she gives largely more than he requires ; Not that his hours devoted all to Care, HoUow-ey'd Abstinence, and lean Despair, The wretch may pine, while to his smeR, taste, sight. She holds a paradise of rich delight ; 60 HOPE. 87 But gently to rebuke his awkward fear, To prove that what she gives, she gives sincere. To banish hesitation, and proclaim His happiness, her dear, her only aim. 'Tis grave philosophy's absurdest dream, 65 That Heav'n's intentions are not what they seem That only shadows are dispens'd below, And earth has no reality but wo. Thus things terrestrial wear a different hue, As youth or age persuades ; and neither true. 70 So Flora's wreath through colour'd crystal seen, The rose or lily appears blue or green, But still th' imputed tints are those alone The medium represents, and not their own. To rise at noon, sit slipshod and undress'd, 75 To read the news or fiddle as seems best, Till half the world comes rattling at his door, To fill the dull vacuity till four ; And, just when ev'ning turns the blue vault gray, To spend two hours in dressing for the day : 80 To make the Sun a bauble without use, Save for the fruits his heav'nly beams produce : Quite to forget, or deem it worth no thought. Who bids him shine, or if he shine or not ; Through mere necessity to close his eyes 85 Just when the larks and when the shepherds rise • Is such a life, so tediously the same, So void of all utility or aim, That poor Jonquil, with almost ev'ry breath, Sighs for his exit, vulgarly calPd death : 90 For he, with all his follies, has a mind Not yet so blank, or fashionably blind, ^^ ^ But now and then perhaps a feeble ray Of distant wisdom shoots across his way ; By which he reads, that life without a plan, As useless as the moment it began, Serves merely as a soil for discontent To thrive in ; an incumbrance ere half spent. 88 HOPE. O weariness beyond what asses feel, That tread the circuit of the cistern wheel ; 100 A dull rotation, never at a stay, Yesterday's face twin image of to-day ; While conversation, an exhausted stock, Grows drowsy as the clicking of a clock. No need he cries^ of gravity stuft^d out X05 With academick dignity devout, To read wise lectures, vanity the text ; Proclaim the remedy, ye learned, next ; For truth self-evident, with pomp impress'd, Is vanity surpassing all the rest. 110 That remedy, not hid in deeps profound, Yet seldom sought where only to be found, While passion turns aside from its due scope Th' inquirer's aim, that remedy is hope. Life is his gift, from whom whate'er life needs, 115 With ev'ry good and perfect gift proceeds ; Bestow'd on man, like all that we partake, Royally, freely, for his bounty's sake ; Transient indeed, as is the fleeting hour, And yet the seed of an immortal flow'r ; 130 Design'd in honour of his endless love, To fill with fragance his abode above ; No trifle, howsoever short it seem, And howsoever shadowy, no dream ; Its value what no thought can ascertain, 125 Nor all an angel's eloquence explain. Men deal with life as children v/ith their play, Who first misuse, then cast their toys away ; Live to no sober purpose, and contend That their Creator had no serious end. 130 When God and man stand opposite in view, Man's disappointment must of course ensue. The just Creator condescends to write. In beams of inextinguishable light, His names of wisdom, goodness, pow'r, and love, 135 On all that blooms below, or shines above ; HOPE. 89 To catch the wand'ring notice of mankind, And teach the world, if not perversely Llind, His gracious attributes, and prove the share His offspring hold in his paternal care. 140 If, led from earthly things to things divine, His creature thwart not his august design. Then praise is heard instead of reas'ning pride, And captious cavil and complaint subside. Nature employ'd in her allotted place, 1 45 Is handmaid to the purposes of Grace ; By good vouchsard makes known superiour good, And bliss not seen by blessings understood : That bliss, reveal'd in Scripture, with a glow Bright as the covenant- ensuring bow, 150 Fires all his feelings with a noble scorn Of sensual evil, and thus hope is born. Hope sets the stamp of vanity on all That men have deem'd substantial since the fall ; Yet has the wondrous virtue to educe 155 From emptiness itself a real use ; And while she takes, as at a father's hand, What health and sober appetite demand, From fading good derives, with chemick art, That lasting happiness, a thankful heart. 160 Hope with uplifted foot, set free from earth. Pants for the place of her ethereal birth, On steady wings sails through the immense abyss, Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss. And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here 165 With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. Hope, as an anchor firm and sure, holds fast The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. Hope ! nothing else can nourish and secure His new-born virtues, and preserve him pure. 170 Hope ! let the wretch, once conscious of the joy, Whom now despairing agonies destroy, Speak, for he can, and none so well as he, WJiat treasures centre, what dehghts in thee 8* 90 HOPE. Had he the gems, the spices, and the land, 175 That boasts the treasure, all at his command ; The fragrant ^Tove, th' inestimable mine, Were light, when weigh'd against one smile of Ihino. Though clasp 'd and cradled in his nurse's arms. He shines with all a cherub's artless charms- IQO Man is the genuine offspring of revolt, Stubborn and sturdy as a wild ass' colt ; His passions, like the wat'ry stores that sleep Beneath the smiling surface of the deep. Wait but the lashes of a wintry storm, 185 To frown, and roar, and shake his feeble form. From mfancy through childhood's giddy maze Fro ward at school, and fretful in his plays. The puny tyrant burns to subjugate The free republick of the w^hipgig state. 190 If one, his equal in athletick frame, Or, more provoking still, of nobler name, Dare step across his arbitrary views. An Iliad, only not in verse, ensues ; The little Greeks look trembling at the scales, 195 Till the best tongue, or heaviest hand prevails. Now see him launch'd into the world at large ; If priest, supinely droning o'er his charge. Their fleece his pillow, and his weekly drawl, Though short, too long, the price he pays for alL 200 If lawyer, loud whatever cause he plead. But proudest of the worst, if that succeed. Perhaps a grave physician, gath'ring fees. Punctually paid for length'ning out disease; No Cotton, whose humanity sheds rays 205 That make superiour skill his second praise. If arms engage him, he devotes to sport His date of life, so likely to be short ; A soldier may be any thing, if brave, So may a tradesman, if not quite a knave. 210 Such stuff the Avorld is made of: and mankind To passion, int'rost, plrasure, whim, resign'd, HOPE. Insist on, as if each "were his own pop^^ii Forgiveness, and the privilege of hope. .: But Conscience, in some awful, silent hout, When captivating lusts have lost their pow'r, Perhaps when sickness, or some fearful dream, Reminds him of religion, hated theme ! Starts from the down, on which she lately slept, And tells of laws despis'd, at least not kept : 220 Shows with a pointing finger, but no noise, A pale procession of past sinful joys, All witnesses of blessings foully scorn 'd, And life abus'd, and not to be suborn'd. Mark these, she says ; these summon'd from afftf* 225 Begin their march to meet thee at the bar ; There find a judge inexorably just. And perish there, as all presumption must. Peace be to those, (such peace as earth can give>) Who Uve in pleasure, dead e'en while they live j 230 Born, capable, indeed, of heav'nly truth ; But down to latest age, from earliest youth, Their mind a wilderness through want of care, The plough of wisdom never ent'ring there. Peace, (if insensibility may claim • '' 235 A right to the meek honours of her name,) To men of pedigree, their noble race, Emulous always of the nearest place To any throne, except the throne of Grace. Let cottagers and unenlighten'd swains 240 Revere the laws they dream'd that Heav'n ordains ; Resort on Sundays to the house of pray'r. And ask, and fancy they find blessings there. ^ Themselves, perhaps, when weary they retreat T' enjoy cool nature in a country seat, 245 T' exchange the centre of a thousand trades, For clumps, and lawns, and temples, arid cascades, May now and then their velvet cushions take , And seem to pray, for good example sake ; 92 HOPE. Judging, in charity, no doubt, the town 250 Pious enough, and having need of none. Kind souls ! to teach their tenantry to prize What they themselves, without remorse despise : Nor hope have they, nor fear of aught to come, , As well for them had prophecy been dumb ; 255 They could have held the conduct they pursue, Had Paul of Tarsus liv'd and died a Jew ; And truth, propos'd to reas'ners wise as they, Is a pearl cast — completely cast away. They die — Death lends them, pleas'd, and as in sport, 260 All the grim honours of his ghastly court. Far other paintings grace the chamber now. Where late we saw the mimick landscape glow : The busy heralds rang the sable scene With mournful scutcheons, and dim lamps between ; Proclaim their titles to the crowd around, 266 But they that wore them move not at the sound ; The coronet plac'd highly at their head. Adds nothing now to the degraded dead ; And e'en the star, that glitters on the bier, 270 Can only say — Nobility lies here. Peace to all such — 'twere pity to oiFend, By useless censure, whom we cannot mend ; Life without hope can close but in despair, 'Twas there we found them, and must leave them there. 275 As when two pilgrims in a forest stray. Both may be lost, yet each in his own way ; So fg-res it with the multitudes beguil'd In vain Opinion's waste and dang 'reus wild ; Ten thousand rove the brakes and thorns among, 280 Some eastward, and some westward, and all wrong. But here, alas ! the fatal difPrence lies. Each man's belief is right in his own eyes ; And he that blames what they have blindly chose. Incurs resentment for the love he shows. 285 HOPE. 93 Say, botanist, within whose province fall The cedar and the hyssop on the wall, Of all that deck the lanes, the fields, the bow'rs , What parts the kindred tribes of weeds and flow'rs ? Sweet scent, or lovely form, or both combin'd, 290 Distinguish ev'ry cultivated kind ; The want of both denotes a meaner breed, And Chloe from her garland picks the weed. Thus hopes of ev'ry sort, whatever sect Esteem them, sow them, rear them, and protect 295 If wild in nature, and not duly found, Gethsemane ! in thy dear hallow'd ground, That cannot bear the blaze of Scripture light, Nor cheer the spirit, nor refresh the sight. Nor animate the soul to Christian deeds, 300 (Oh cast them from thee !) are weeds, arrant weeds. Ethelred's house, the centre of six ways, Diverging each from each, like equal rays, Himself as bountiful as April rains, Lord paramount of the surrounding plains, 30& Would give rehef of bed and board to none, But guests that sought it in th' appointed One ; And they might enter at his open door. E'en till his spacious hall would hold no more. He sent a servant forth, by ev'ry road, 310 To sound his horn, and publish it abroad. That all might mark — knight, menial, high, and low, An ord'nance it concern'd them much to know. If after all some headstrong hardy lout Would disobey, tliDUgh sure to be shut out, 315 Could he with reason murmur at his case, Himself sole author of his own dipgrace ? No ! the decree was just and without flaw ; And he that made, had right to make the law ; His sov'reign power, and pleasure unrestrain'd, 320 The wrong was his who wrongfully complain'd. Yet half mankind maintains a churlish strife With Him, the Donor of eternal hfe, 94 HOPE. Because the deed, by which his love confirms The largess h3 bestows, prescribes the terms. S25 Compliance with his will your lot ensuies, Accept it only, and the boon is yours. And sure it is as kind to smile and give, As with a frown to say. Do this, and live. Love is not pedler's trump'ry, bought and sold • 330 He will give freely, or he will withhold ; His soul abhors a mercenary thought, And him as deeply who abhors it not ; He stipulates, indeed, but merely this, ^ ^ That man will freely take an unbought bliss, 335 Will trust him for a faithful gen'rous part, Nor set a price upon a willing heart. Of all the wL/s that seem to promise fair, To place you where his saints his presence share. This only can ; for this plain cause, express'd 340 In terms as plam— Himself has shut the rest. But oh the strife, the bick'ring, and debate, The tidings of unpurchas'd Heav'n create I The flirted fan, the bridle, and the toss, All speakers, yet all language at a loss. From stucco'd walls smart arguments rebound ; And beaux, adepts in ev'ry thing profound. Die of disdain, or whistle off the sound. Such is the clamour of rooks, daws, and kites, Th' explosion of the levell'd tube excites. Where mould'ring abbey walls o'erhang the glade, And oaks coeval spread a mournful shade, The screaming nations, hov'ring in mid air. Loudly resent the stranger's freedom there. And seem to warn him never to repeat 355 His bold intrusion on their dark retreat. Adieu, Vinosa cries, ere yet he sips The purple bumper trembling at his lips — Adieu to all morahty ! if Grace Make works a vain ingredient in the case. 360 345 350 HOPE. 95 The Christian hope is — Waiter, draw the coik— If I mistake not — Blockhead ! with a fork ! Without good works, whatever some may boast, Mere folly and delusion — Sir, your toast. My firm persuasion is, at least sometimes, 3(J5 That Heav'n will weigh man's virtues and his crimes With nice attention, in a righteous scale, And save or damn as these or those prevail. I plant my foot upon this groimd of trust, And silence ev'ry fear with — God is just. 370 But if, perchance, on some dull, drizzling day, A thought intrude, that says, or seems to say, If thus th' important cause is to be tried, Suppose the beam should dip on the wrong side } I soon recover from these needless frights, 375 And God is merciful — sets all to rights. Thus between justice, as my prime support. And mercy, fled to as the last resort, I glide and steal along with Heav'n in view. And— pardon me, the bottle stands with you. 380 I never will believe, the colonel cries, The sanguinary schemes that some devise, Who make the good Creator on their plan, A being of less equity than man. If appetite, or what divines call lust, 385 Which men comply with, e'en because th^y must, Be punish'd with perdition, who is pure ? Then theirs, no doubt, as well as mine, is sure. If sentence of eternal pain belong To ev'ry sudden slip and transient wrong, 390 Then Heav'n enjoins the fallible and frail A hopeless task, and damns them if they fail. My creed, (whatever some creed-makers mean By Athanasian nonsense, or Nicene,) My creed is, he is safe, that does his best, 395 And death's a doom sufficient for the rest. Right, says an ensign ; and for aught I see Tour faith and mine substantially agree ; 0C HOPE. Tho best of ev'ry man's performance here Is to discharge the duties of his sphere. 400 A lawyer's dealings should be just and fair, Honesty sliines with great advantage there. Fasting and pray'r sit well upon a priest, A decent caution and reserve at least. A soldier's best is courage in the field, 405 With nothing here that wants to be conceal'd. Manly doportment, gallant, easy, gay ; A hand as lib'ral as the light of day. The soldier thus endow'd who never shrinks, Nor closets up his thoughts, whate'er he thinks 410 Who scorns to do an injury by stealthy Must go to Heav'n — and I must drink his healtk Sir Smug, he cries, (for lowest at the board, Just made fifth chaplain of his patron lord, His shoulders witnessing by many a shrug 415 How much his feelings suffer'd, sat Sir Smug,^ Your office is to winnow false from true ; Come, Prophet, drink, and tell us, What think j - «i ? Sighing and smiling as he takes his glass, Which they that woo preferment rarely pass, 420 Fallible man, the church-bred youth replies, Is still found fallible, however wise ; And diff*'ring judgments serve but to declare. That truth Ijes somewhere, if we knew but where Of all it ever was my lot to read, 125 Of criticks now alive, or long since dead, The book of all the world that charm 'd me most Was — ^well-a-day — ^the title page was lost ; The writer well remarks, a heart that knows To take with gratitude what Heav'n bestows, ^30 With prudence always ready at our call. To guide our use of it, is all in all. Doubtless it is — To which, of my own store, I superadd a few essentials more ; But these, excuse the liberty I take, 435 [ wave just how, for conversation's sake. — zJj HOPE. 97 Spoke like an oraclci they all exclaim, And add Right Rev'rend to Smug's honoured name. And yet our lot is giv'n us in a land, Where busy arts are never at a stand ; 440 Where Science points her telescopick eye, Familiar with the wonders of the sky ; Where bold inquiry, diving out of sight, Brings many a precious pearl of truth to If^ht ; Where naught eludes the persevering quest, 445 That fashion, taste, or luxury, suggest. But above all, in her own Ught array'd, See Mercy*s grand apocalypse display'd ! The sacred book no longer suffers wrong. Bound in the fetters of an unltnown toncue ; 450 But speaks with plainness, art could never mend, What simplest minds can soonest comprehend. God gives the word, the preachers throng around, Live from liis lips, and spread the glorious sound ; That sound bespeaks Salvation on her way, 455 The trumpet of a life-restoring day ; 'Tis heard where England's eastern glory shines, And in the gulfs of her Cornubian mines. And still it spreads. See Germany send forth Her sons* to pour it on the farthest north : 460 Fir'd with a zeal peculiar, they defy The rage and rigour of a polar sky. And plant successfully sweet Sharon's rose On icy plains, and in eternal snows. O bless'd within th' enclosure of your rocks, 465 Nor herds have ye to boast, nor bleating flocks ; No fertilizing streams your fields divide, That show revers'd the villas on their side ; No groves have ye ; no cheerful sound of bird, Or voice of turtle in your land is heard ; 4i'0 Nor grateful eglantine regales the smell Of those that walk at ev'ning where ye dwell ; •^The Moravian Missionaries in Greenland. See Krants Vol. I. 9 98 HOPE. But winter, arm'd with terrours here unknown, Sits absolute on his unshaken throne ; Piles up his stores amidst the frozen waste, 475 And bids the mountains he has built stand fast : Beckons the legions of his storms away From happier scenes, to make your land a prey ; Proclaims the soil a conquest he has won, And scorns to share it with the distant Sun. 480 — Yet truth is yours, remote, unenvied isle ! And Peace, the genuine offspring of her smile ; The pride of letter'd Ignorance that binds In chains of errour our accomplish'd minds, That decks with all the splendour of the true, 485 A false religion is unknown to you. Nature, indeed, vouchsafes for our delight The sweet vicissitudes of day and night : Soft airs and genial moisture feed and cheer Field, fruit, and flow'r, and ev'ry creature here ; 490 But brighter beams than his who fires the skies, Have ris'n at length on your admiring eyes. That shoot into your darkest caves the day. From which our nicer opticks turn away. Here see the encouragement Grace gives to vice, The dire effect of mercy without price ! 496 What were they ? what some fools are made by art, They were by nature, atheists head and heart. The jp;ross idolatry blind heathens teach. Was too refin'd for them, beyond their reach. 500 Not e'en the glorious Sun, though men revere The monarch most, that seldom will appear. And tho' liis beams, that quicken where they shine, May claim some right to be esteem'd divine. Not e'en the Sun, desirable as rare, 505 Could bend one knee, engage one votary there ; They were, what base Credulity believes True Christians are, dissemblers, drunkards, thieves : The fuU-gorg'd savage, at his nauseous feast Spent half the darkness, and snor*d out the rest, 510 HOPE. 99 Was one, whom Justice, on an equal plan Denouncing death upon the sins of man, Might almost have indulged with an escape, Chargeable only with a human shape. What are they now ? — Morality may spare 515 Her grave concern, her kind suspicions there : The wretch, -who once sang wildly, danc*d, and lahgh'd. And suck'd in dizzy madness with kis draught, Has wept a silent flood, revers'd his ways, Is sober, meek, benevolent, and prays, 520 Feeds sparingly, communicates his store. Abhors the craft he boasted of before. And he that stole has learn'd to steal no more. Well spake the prophet — Let the desert sing, Where sprang the thorn, the spiry fir shall spring, 525 And where unsightly and rank thistles grew, Shall grow the myrtle and luxuriant yew. Go now, and with important tone demand On what foimdation virtue is to stand. If self-exalting claims be turn'd adrift, 530 And grace be grace indeed, and life a gift ; The poor reclaim'd inhabitant, his eyes Glist'ning at once with pity and surprise, Amaz'd that shadows should obscure the sight Of one, whose birth was in a land of light, 535 Shall answer, Hope, sweet Hope, has set me free, And made all pleasures else mere dross to me. These amidst scenes as waste as if denied The common care that waits on all beside. Wild as if Nature there, void of all good, 540 Play'd only gambols in a frantick mood (Yet charge not heavenly skill with having plann d A play thing world, unworthy of his hand ;) Can see his love, though secret evil lurks In all we touch, stamp 'd plainly on his works j 545 Deem life a blessing with its num'rous woes, Nor spurn away a gift a G« d bestows. 100 HOPE. Hard task indeed o'er arctick seas to roam ! Is hope exotick ? grows it not at home ? Yes, but an object, bright as orient morn, f i50 May press the eye too closely to be borne ; A distant viftue we can all confess. It hurts our pride, and moves our envy less. Leuconomus, (beneath well-sounding Greek, I shir a name, a poet must not speak,) 555 Stood pilloried on Infamy's high stage, And bore the pelting scorn of half an age : The very butt of Slander, and the blot For ev'ry dart that Malice ever shot. The man that mention'd him at once dismiss'd 560 All mercy from his lips, and sneer'd and hiss'd ; His crimes were such as Sodom never knew, And Perjury stood up to swear all true ; His aim was mischief, and his zeal pretence. His speech rebellion against common sense ; 565 A knave, when tried on honesty's plain rule ; And when by that of reason, a mere fool ; The World's best comfort was, his doom was pass d Die when he might, he must be damn'd at last. Now, Truth, perform thine office ; waft aside 570 The curtain drawn by Prejudice and Pride, Reveal, (the man is dead) to wond'ring eyes, This more than monster in his proper guise. He lov'd the world that hated him ; the tear That dropp'd upon his Bible was sincere : 475 Assail'd by scandal and the tongue of strife, His only answer w?5 a blameless hfe ; And he that forg'd, and he that threw the dart, Had each a brother's int'rest in his heart. Paul's love of Christ, and steadiness unbrib'd, 480 Were copied close in him, and well transcrib'd. He follow'd Paul ; his zeal a kindred flame, His apostolick charity the same. Like him, cross'd cheerfully tempestuous seas, Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease ', 585 HOPE. 101 Like him he labour'd, and like him content To bear it, suffer'd shame where'er he went. Blush Calumny ! and write upon his tomb, If honest Eulogy can spare thee room, Thy deep repentance of thy thousand lies, 590 Which, aim'd at him, have pierc'd th' offended skies ! And say, Blot out my sin, confess'd, deplor'd, Against thine image, in thy saint, O Lord ' * No blinder bigot, I maintain it still, Than he who must have pleasure, come what will : He laughs, whatever weapon Truth may draw, 596 And deems her sharp artillery mere straw. Scripture indeed is plain ; but God and he On Scripture ground are sure to disagree ; Some wiser rule must teach him how to live, 600 Than this his Maker has seen fit to give ; Supple and flexible as Indian cane, To take the bend his appetites ordain ; Contriv'd to suit frail Nature's crazy case, And reconcile his lust with saving grace. 605 By this, with nice precision of design, He draws upon life's map a zigzag hne, That shows how far 'tis safe to follow sin. And where his danger and God's wrath begin. By this he forms, as pleas'd he sports along, 610 His well-pois'd estimate of right and wrong ; And finds the modish manners of the day, Though loose, as harmless as an infant's play. Build by whatever plan Caprice decrees, With what materials, on what ground you please ; 615 YDur hope shall stand unblara'd, perhaps admir'd. If not that hope the Scripture has requir'd. The strange conceits, vain projects, and wild dreams, With which hypocrisy for ever teems, (Though other follies strike the publick eye, 620 And raise a laugh,) pass unmolested by ; But if, unblamable in word or thought, A man arise, a man whom God has taught 9* f02 HOPE. With all Elijah*s dimity of tone, And all the love of the beloved John, 625 To storm the citadels they build in air. And smite the untemper'd wall ; 'tis death to spare To sweep away all refuges of lies, And place, instead of quirks themselves devise, Lama sahactkani before their eyes ; 630 To prove, that without Christ all gain is loss. All hope despair, that stands not on his cross ; Except the few his God may have impress'd, A tenfold frenzy seizes all the rest. Throughout mankind, the Christian kind at lea&t. There dwells a consciousness in ev'ry breast, 636 That folly ends where genuine hope begins. And he that finds his Heav'n must lose his sins. Nature opposes with her utmost force This riving stroke, this ultimate divorce } 640 And, while religion seems to be her view, Hates with a deep sincerity the true : For this, of all that ever influenc'd man, Since Abel worshipp'd, or the world began, This only spares no lust, admits no plea, 645 But makes him, if at all, completely free ; Sounds forth the signal, as she mounts her car, Of an eternal, universal war ; Rejects all treaty, penetrates all wiles, 649 Scorns with the same indiff'rence frowns and smiles i Drives through the realms of Sin, where Riot reels, And grinds his crown beneath her burning wheels ! Hence all that is in man, pride, passion, art, Pow'rs of the mind, and feelings of the heart, Insensible of Truth's almighty charms, 655 Starts at her first approach, and sounds to arms ! While Bigotry, with well-dlssemblod fears. His eyes shut fast, his fingers in his ears. Mighty to parry and push by God's word Witli senseless noise, his argument the sword, 660 HOPE. io:> Pretends a zeal for godliness and grace, And spits abhorrence in the Christian's face. Parent of Hope, immortal Truth ! make known Thy deathless wreaths and triumphs all thine own : The silent progress of thy pow'r is such, 6G5 Thy means so feeble, and despis'd so much, That few believe the wonders thou hast wrought, And none can teach them, but whom thou hast taught. O see me sworn to serve thee, and command A painter's skill into a poet's hand. 670 That while I trembling trace a work divine, Fancy may stand aloof from the design. And light, and shade, and ev'ry stroke be thine. If ever thou hast felt another's pain : If ever when he sigh'd, hast sigh'd again ; 675 If ever on thy eyelid stood the tear Tliat pity had engender'd, droo one here. This man was happy — ^had the World's gibd word. And with it ev'ry joy it can afford ; Friendship and love seem'd tenderly at strife, 680 Which most should sweeten his untroubled life ; Politely learn'd, and of a gentle race. Good breeding and good sense gave all a grace, And whether at the toilette of the fair He laugh'd and trifled, made him welcome there 5 685 Or if in masculine debate he shar'd, Ensur'd him mute attention and regard. * Alas, how chang'd ! Expressive of his mind, His eyes are sunk, arms folded, head reclin'd ; Those awful syllables. Hell, death, and sin, 690 Though whisper'd plainly, tell what works within , That Conscience there performs her proper part, And writes a doomsday sentence on his heart ; Forsaking, and forsaken of all friends. He now perceives where earthly pleasure enda 695 Hard task ! for one who lately knew no care, And harder still as learn'd beneath despair 104 HOPE. His hours no longer pass unmark'd away, A dark importance saddens ev'ry day ; He hears the notice of the clock perplex'd, 700 And cries, Perhaps eternity strikes next } Sweet musick is no longer musick here, And laughter sounds like madness in his ear ; His grief the world of all her pow'r disarms, "Wine has no taste, and beauty has no charms; 705 * God's holy word, once trivial in his view. Now by the voice of his experience true, Seems, as it is, the fountain whence alone Must spring that hope he pants to make his own Now let the bright reverse be known abroad ; 710 Say man's a worm, and pow'r belongs to God. As when a felon, whom liis country's laws Have justly doom'd for some atrocious cause, Expects in darkness and heart chilling fears, The shameful close of all his mispent years ; 715 If chance, on heavy pinions slowly borne, A tempest usher in the dreaded morn. Upon his dungeon walls the lightnings play. The thunder seems to summon him away. The warder at the door his key applies, 720 Shoots back the bolt, and all his courage dies If then, just then, all thoughts of mercy lost, When hope, long ling 'ring, at last yields the ghost. The sound of pardon pierce his startled ear, He drops at once his fetters and his fear ; 725 A transport glows in all he looks and speaks. And the first thankful tears bedev/ his cheeks. Joy, far superiour joy, that much outweighs The comfort of a few poor added days. Invades, possesses, and o'erwhelms the soul 730 Of him, whom Hope has with a touch made whole. 'Tis Heav'n, all Heav'n descending on the wings Of the glad legions of the King of kings ; 'Tis more — 'tis God diffus'd through ev'ry part, Tis God himself triumphant in his heart 735 HOPE. 105 O welcome now the Sun's once hated light His noonday beams were never half so bright. Not kindred minds alone are call'd t' employ Their hours, their days, in hst'ning to his joy ; Unconscious nature all that he surveys, 740 RockS; groves, and streams, must join him in hli praise. These are thy glorious works, eternal Truth, The scoff of wither'd age and beardless youth ; These move the censure and illib'ral gria Of fools that hate thee and delight in sin : 745 But these shall last when night has quenched th« pole, And Heav'n is all departed as a scroll. And when, as Justice has long since decreed, This earth shall blaze, and a new world succeed, Then these thy glorious works, and they who share That hope, which can alone exclude despair, 751 Shall live exempt from weakness and decay. The brightest wonders of an endless day. Happy the bard, (if that fair name belong To him that blends no fable with his song,) 755 Whose lines uniting, by an honest art, The faithful monitor's, and poet's part. Seek to delight, that they may mend mankind, And while they captivate, inform the mind : Still happier, if he till a thankful soil, 760 And fruit reward his honourable toil : ^ But happier far, who comfort those that wait To hear plain truth at Judah's hallow'd gate : Their language simple, as their manners meek ; No shining ornaments have they to seek ; 765 Nor labour they, nor time, nor talents waste. In sorting flow'rs to suit a fickle taste ; But while they speak the wisdom of the skies, Which art can only darken and disguise, Th' abundant harvest, recompense divine, 770 Repays their work — the gleaning only mine. CHARITY. Q^o nViil majus meliusve ieirit Fata doTiavere, bonique divi ; Nee dabuiit, quamvis redeant in aurum Tempora priscum. HoR.lib.iv.Od. 2. FAIREST and foremost of the train, that wait On man's most dignified and happiest state, Whether we name thee Charity or Love, Chief grace below, and all in all above. Prosper, (I press thee with a pow'rful plea,) 5 A task I venture on, impell'd by thee : O never seen but in thy bless'd effects. Or felt but in the soul that Heav'n selects ; Who seeks to praise thee, and to make thee known To other hearts, must have thee in his own. 10 Come, prompt me with benevolent desires, Teach me to kindle at thy gentle fires, And though disgrac'd and slighted, to redeem A poet's name, by making thee the theme. God, working ever on a social plan, lb liy various ties attaches man to man : He riiade at first, though free and unconfin'd, One man the common father of the kind ; That ev'ry tribe, though plac'd as he sees best, Where seas or deserts part them from the rest, 20 CHARITY. 107 Diflfring in language, manners, or in face, Might feel themselves allied to all the race. When Cook — lamented, and with tears as just As ever mingled with heroick dust, Steer'd Britain's oak into a world unknown, 25 And in his country's glory sought his own, Wherever he found man, to nature true. The rights of man were sacred in his view ; He sooth'd with gifts, and greeted with a smile, The simple native of the new-found isle ; 90 He spurn'd the wretch that slighted or withstood T The tender argument of kindred blood, Nor would endure that any should control His freeborn brethren of the southern pole. But though some nobler minds a law respect, 35 That none shall with impunity neglect, In baser souls unnumber'd evils meet. To thwart its influence and its end defeat. While Cook is lov'd for savage lives he sav'd, See Cortez odious for a world enslav'd ! 40 Where wast thou then, sweet Charity ! where then Thou tutelary friend of helpless men ; Wast thou in monkish cells and nunn'ries found, Or building hospitals on English ground ? No. — Mammon makes the world his legatee 45 Through fear, not love : and Heav'n abhors the fee • Wherever found, (and all men need thy care,) Nor age nor infancy could find thee there. The hand that slew till it could slay no more. Was glued to the sword hilt with Indian gore. 50 Their prince, as justly seated on his tlirone. As vain imperial Philip on his own, Trick'd out of all his royalty by art. That stripp'd him bare, and broke his honest heart, Died by the sentence of a shaven priest, 55 For scorning what they taught him^to detest. How dark the veil that intercepts the blaze Of Heav'n's mysterious purposes and ways ; 108 CHARITY. God stood not, though he seem'd to stand, aloof; And at this hour the conqu'ror feels the proof; 60 The wreath he won drew down an instant curse, The fretting plague is in the publick purse, The canker'd spoil corrodes the pining state, Starv'd by that indolence their mines create. O could their ancient Incas rise again, 65 How would they take up Israel's taunting strain ! Art thou too fall'n, Iberia ? Do we see The robber and the murderer weak as we ? Tliou, that hast wasted earth, and dar'd despise Alike the wrath and mercy of the skies, 70 Thy pomp is in the grave, thy glory laid Low in the pits thine avarice has made. We come with joy from our eternal rest. To see th' oppressor in his turn oppressed. Art thou the god, the thunder of whose hand 75 Roird over £l11 our desolated land. Shook principalities and kingdoms down, And made the mountains tremble at his frown ? The sword shall light upon thy boasted pow'rs, And waste them, as thy sword has wasted ours. 80 Tis thus Omnipotence his law fulfils, A.nd Vengeance executes what Justice wills. Again — the band of commerce was design'd T' associate all the branches of mankind ; And if a boundless plenty be the robe, 85 Trade is the golden girdle of the globe. Wise to promote whatever end he means, God opens fruitful nature's various scenes . Each climate needs what other cUmes produce, And offers something to the gen'ral use ; 90 No land but listens to the common call, And in return receives supply from all. This genial intercourse, and mutual aid. Cheers what were else a universal shade. Calls nature from her ivy-mantled den, 95 And softens human rock- work into men. CHARITY. m Ingenious Art, with her expressive face, Steps forth to fashion and refine the race ; Not only fills necessity's demand, But overcharges her capacious hand : 100 Capricious taste itself can crave no more Than she supplies from her abounding store . She strikes out all that luxury can aak, And gains new vigour at her endless task. Her's is the spacious arch, the shapely spire, 105 The painter's pencil, and the poet's lyre ; From her the canvass borrows light and shade, And verse, more Izisting, hues that never fade. She guides the finger o'er the dancing keys. Gives difiiculty all the grace of ease, XIO And pours a torrent of sweet notes around, Fiast as the thirsting ear can drink the sound. These are the gifts of Art, and Art thrives most Where Commerce has enrich'd the busy coast. ,^ j He catches all improvements in his flight, jljjlfi Spreads foreign wonders in his country's siglMft^^j^ -ri Imports what others have invented well, .^^ q And stirs his own to match them, or excel* ^ j^f^ jiO 'Tis thus reciprocating, each with each,,. . . -j-iffto if A Alternately the nations learn and teach; W^ While Providence enjoins to ev'ry soul A union with the vast terraqueous whole. Heav'n speed the canvass, gallantly unfurl'd To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the pole the produce of the sun, 125 And knit th' unsocial climates into one. — Soft airs and gentle heavings of the wave Impel the fleet, whose errand is to save, To succour wasted regions, and replace The smile of Opulence in Sorrow's face. — 130 Let nothing adverse, nothing unforeseen, Impede the bark, that ploughs the deep serene. Charg'd with a freight, transcending in its worth The gems of India, Nature's rarest birth. Vol. I. 10 no CHARITY That flies, like Gabriel on his Lord's commands, 135 A herald of God's love to pagan lands. But ah ! what wish can prosper, or what pray'r, For merchants rich in cargoes of despair, Who drive a loathsome traffick, gauge, and span, And buy the muscles and the bones of man ? 140 The tender ties of father, husband, friend. All bonds of nature in that moment end ; And each endures, while yet he draws his breath, A stroke as fatal as the scythe of death. The sable warriour, frantick with regret 145 Of her he loves, and never can forget, Loses in tears the far-receding shore. But not the thought, that they must meet no more ; Depriv'd of her and freedom at a blow, What has he left, that he can yet forego ? 150 Yes, to deep sadness sullenly resign'd, He feels his body's bondage in his mind ; Puts off his gen'rous nature ; and, to suit His manners with his fate, puts on the brute. O most degrading of all ills, that wait 155 On man, a mourner in his best estate ! All other sorrows Virtue may endure. And find submission more than half a cure , Grief is itself a med'cine, and bestow'd T' improve the fortitude that bears the load, 16y To teach the wand'rer, as his woes increase. The path of Wisdom, all whose paths are peace ; But slav'ry ! — Virtue dreads it as her grave : Patience itself is meanness in a slave ; Or if the will and sov'reignty of God 165 Bid suffer it awhile, and kiss the rod. Wait for the dawning of a brighter day, And snap the chain the moment when you may. Nature imprints upon whate'er we see. That has a heart and life in it, Be free : 170 The beasts are charter'd — neither age nor force Can quell the love of freedom in a horse * CHARITY. Ul He breaks the cord, that held hhn at the rack , And conscious of an unencumber'd back, Snuffs up the morning air, forgets the rein ; 175 Loose fly his forelock and his ample mane ; Responsive to the distant neigh he neighs ; Nor stops till, overleaping all delays. He finds the pasture where his fellows graze. Canst thou, and honour'd with a Christian name, Buy what is woman born, and feel no shame j 181 Trade in the blood of innocence, and plead Expedience as a warrant for the deed ? So may the wolf, whom famine has made bold To quit the forest and invade the fold : 185 So may the ruffian, xmo with ghostly glide, Dagger m hand, steals close to your bedside , Not he, but his emergence, forc'd the door, He found it inconvenient to be poor. Has God then giv'n its sweetness to the cane, 190 Unless his laws be trampled on — in vain ? Built a orave world, which cannot yet subsist, Unless his right to rule it be dismiss'd ? Impudent blasphemy ! So Folly pleads. And Av'rice being judge, with ease succeeds. 195 But grant the plea, and let it stand for just, That man makes man his prey, because he mtist ; Still there is room for pity to abate And sooth the sorrows of so sad a state. A Briton knows, or if he knows it not, 200 The scripture plac'd within his reach, he ought, That souls have no discriminating hue, Alike important in their Maker's view j That none are free from blemish since the fall, And Love divine has paid one price for all. 205 The wretch that works and weeps without relief. Has one that notices his silent grief. He, from whose hands alone all pow'r proceeds, Ranks its abuse among the foulest deeds, 119 CHARITY. Considers all injustice with a frown ; 210 But marks the man, that treads his fellow down Begone — the whip and bell in that hard hand Are hateful ensigns of usurp'd command. Not Mexico could purchase kings a claim To scourge him, weariness his only blame 216 Remember, Heav'n has an avenging rod ; To smite the poor is treason against God. Ti«)uble is grudgingly, and hardly brook'd, While life's sublimest joys are overlooked : We wander o'er a sun-burnt thirsty soil, 220 Murm'ring and weary of our daily toil, Forget t* enjoy the palm-tree's offer'd shade, Or taste the fountain in the neighbouring glade : Else who would lose that had the pow'r to improvo . The occasion of transmuting fear to love .' 225 0 'tis a godlike privilege to save, And he that scorns it is himself a slave. Inform his mind ; one flash of heavenly day Would heal his heart, and melt his chains away. " Beauty for ashes" is a gift indeed, 230 And slaves, by tnith enlarg'd, are doubly freed. Then would he say, submissive at thy feet. While gratitude and love made service sweet, My dear deliv'rer out of hopeless night, Whose bounty bought me but to give me light, 235 1 was a bondman on my native plain. Sin forg'd, and Ignorance made fast the chain , Thy lips have shed instruction as the dew. Taught me what path to shun, and what pursue ; Farewell my former joys ! I sigh no more 240 For Africa's once lov'd, benighted shore ; Serving a benefactor I am free ; At nty best home, if not exiPd from thee. Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds A stream of lib'ral and heroick deeds ; 245 The swell of pity, not to be confin'd Within the scanty limits of the mind, CHARITY. 118 Disdains the bank, and throws the golden sands, A rich deposit on the bord'ring lands : These have an ear for his paternal call, 250 Who makes some rich for the supply of all ; God's gift with pleasure in his praise employ ; And Thornton is familiar with the joy. O could I worship aught beneath the skies, That earth has seen, or fancy can devise, 255 Thine altar, sacred Liberty, should stand. Built by no mercenary vulgar hand, With fragrant turf, and flow'rs as wild and fair As ever dress'd a bank, or scented summer air. Duly as ever on the mountain's height 260 The peep of morning shed a dawning light ; Again when Ev'ning in her sober vest Drew the gray curtain of the fading west. My soul should yield thee willing thanks and praise, For the chief blessings of my fairest days : 265 But that were sacrilege — ^praise is not thine. But his who gave thee, and preserves thee mine * Else I would say, and as I spake bid fly A captive bird into the boundless sky. This triple realm adores thee — ^thoa art come 270 From Sparta hither, and art here at home. Wo feel thy force still active, at this hour Enjoy immunity from priestly pow'r. While Conscience, happier than in ancient years, Owns no superiour but the God she fears. 276 Propitious spirit ! yet expunge a wrong Thy rights have suffer'd and our land, too long. Teach mercy to ten thousand hearts, that share The fears and hopes of a commercial care. Prisons expect the wicked, and were built 280 To bind the lawless, and to punish guilt ; But shipwreck, earthquake, battle, fire, and flood, Are mighty mischiefs, not to be withstood ; And honest Merit stands on slipp'ry groimd Whore covert griile and artifice abound 285 10* 114 CHARITY. Let just Restraint, for publick peace designed, Chain up the wolves and tigers of mankind ; The foe of virtue has no claim to thee, But let insolvent Innocence go free. Patron of else the most despis'd of men, 296 Accept the tribute of a stranger's pen ; Verse, like the laurel, its immortal meed. Should be the guerdon of a noble deed ; I may alarm thee, but I fear the shame, (Charity chosen as mj theme and aim,) 295 I must incur, forgetting Howard's name. Bless'd with all wealth can give thee, to resign Joys doubly sweet to feelings quick as thine. To quit the bliss thy rural scenes bestow, To seek a nobler amidst scenes of wo, 300 To traverse seas, range kingdoms, and bring home. Not the proud monuments of Greece or Rome, But knowledge such as only dungeons teach, And only sympathy like thine could reach ; That grief, sequester'd from the publick stage, 305 Might smooth her feathers, and enjoy her cage ; Speaks a divine ambition, and a zeal. The boldest patriot might be proud to feel. O that the voice of clamour and debate. That pleads for peace till it disturbs the state, 310 Were hush'd in favour of thy gen'rous plea, The poor thy clients, and Heav'n's smile thy fee ! Philosophy, that does not dream or stray. Walks arm in arm with Nature all his way : Compasses earth, dives into it, ascends 315 Whatever step Inquiry recommends. Sees planetary wonders smoothly roll Round other systems under her control, Drinks wisdom at the milky stream of light That cheers the silent journey of the night, 320 And brings at his return a bosom charg'd With rich instruction, and a soul enlarg*d CHAEITY. 115 The treasur'd sweets of the capacious plan. That Heav'n spreads wide before the view of mail, All prompt his pleas'd pursuit, and to pursue 325 Still prompt him with a pleasure always new j He too has a connecting pow'r, and draw Man to the centre of the common cause. Aiding a dubious and deficient sight With a new medium and a purer light. 330 All truth is precious, if not all divine ; And what dilates the pow'rs must needs refine. He reads the skies, and, watching ev'ry change, Provides the faculties an ample range ; And wins mankind, as his attempts prevail, " 335 A prouder station on the gen'ral scale. But Reason still, unless divinely taught, Whate'er she learns, learns nothing as she ought , The lamp of revelation only shows. What human wisdom cannot but oppose, 340 That man, in nature's richest mantle clad, And grac'd, with all philosophy can add. Though fair without, and luminous within, Is still the progeny and heir of sin. Thus taught, down falls the plumage of his pride, 345 He feels his need of an unerring guide, And knows that falling he shall rise no more, Unless the pow'r that bade him stand, restore. This is indeed philosophy ; this known Makes wisdom, worthy of the name, his own ; 350 And without this, whatever he discuss, Whether the space between the.stars and us. Whether he measure earth, compute the sea. Weigh sunbeams, carve a fly, or split a flea ; The solemn trifler with his boasted skill 355 Toils much, and is a solemn trifler still : Blind was he born, and his misguided eyes Grown dim in trifling studies, blind he dies. Self-knowledge truly learn'd, of course impliep The rich possession of a nobler prize ; 360 116 CHARITY For self to self, and God to man reveal'd, (Two themes to Nature's eye for ever seal'd,) Are taught by rays, that fly with equal pace From the same centre of enlight'ning grace. Here stay thy foot, how copious, and how clear, 365 Th' o'erflowing well of Charity springs here ! Hark ! 'tis the musick of a thousand rills. Some through the groves, some down the sloping hills, Winding a secret or an open course. And all supphed from an eternal source. 370 The ties of nature do but feebly bind, And Commerce partially reclaims mankind ; Philosophy, without his heavenly guide. May blow up self-conceit, and nourish pride, 'i' But, while liis province is the reas'ning part, 375 Has still a veil of midnight on his heart ; "Tis truth divine, exhibited on earth. Gives Charity her being and her birth. Suppose, (when thought is warm and fancy flows, What will not argument sometimes suppose ?) 380 An isle possess'd by creatures of our kind. Endued with reason, yet by nature blind. Let supposition lend her aid once more, And land some grave optician on the shore : He claps his lens, if haply they may see, 385 Close to the part where vision ought to be ; But finds, that though his tubes assist the sight, They cannot give it, or make darkness light. He reads wise lectures, and describes aloud A sense they know not, to the wond'ring crowd 390 He talks of light, and the prismatick hues, ks men of depth in erudition use ; But all he gains for his harangue is — ^Well, — ^hat monstrous lies some travellers will tell ! The soul, whose sight all-quick ning grace renews. Takes the resemblance of the good she views, 396 \s diamonds stripp'd of their opaque disguise, Reflect the noonday glory of the skies. CHARITY. 117 She speaks of him, her author, guardian, fnend, Whose love knew no beginning, knows no end, 400 In language warm as all that love inspires, And in the glow of her intense desires, Pants to communicate he: noble fires. She sees a world stark blind to what employs Her eager thought, and feeds her flowing joys ; 405 Though wisdom hail thein, heedless of her call, Flies to save some, and feels a pang for all : Herself as weak as her support is strong, She feels that frailty she denied so Jong ; And, from a knowledge of her own disease, 419 Learns to compassionate the sick she sees. Here see, acquitted of all vain pretence, The reign of genuine Charity commence. Though scorn repay her sympathetick tears. She still is kind and still she perseveres ; 415 The truth she loves a sightless world blaspheme, 'Tis childish dotage, a delirious dream. The danger they discern not, they deny ; Laugh at their only remedy, and die. But still a soul thus touch'd can never cease, 420 Whoever threatens war, to speak of peace. Pore in her aim, and in her temper mild. Her wisdom seems the weakness of a child : She makes excuses where she might condemn, Revil'd by those that hate her, prays for them j 425 Suspicion lurks not in her artless breast. The worst suggested, she believes the best ; Not soon provok'd, however stung and teaz'd, And, if perhaps made angry, soon appeas'd ; She rather waves than will dispute her right, 430 And injur'd, makes forgiveness her delight. Such was the portrait an apostle drew. The bright original was one he knew ; Heav'n held his hand, the likeness must be true. When one, that holds communion with the skies, Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise, 43tf 118 CHARITY. And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'Tis e'en as if an angel shook his wings ; Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide, That tells us whence his treasures are supplied. 440 So when a ship, well freighted with the stores The Sun matures on India's spicy shores. Has dropp'd her anchor, and her canvass furl'd, In some safe haven of our western world, 'Twere vain inquiry to what port she went, 445 The gale informe us, laden with the scent. Some seek, when, queasy conscience has its qualms, To lull the painful malady with alms ; But charity not feign'd, intends alone Another's good — theirs' centres in their own ; 450 And too short-liv'd to reach the realms of peace, Must cease for ever when the poor shall cease. Flavia, most tender of her own good name, Is rather careless of her sister's fame : Her superfluity the poor supplies, 455 But, if she touch a character, it dies. The seeming virtue weigh'd against the vice. She deems all safe, for she has paid the price : No charity but alms ought values she, Except in porcelain on her mantle-tree. 460 How many deeds, with which the world has rung, From Pride, in league with Ignorance, have sprung ! But God o'errules all human follies still. And bends the tough materials to his will. A conflagration or a wintry flood, 465 Has left some hundreds without home or food ; Extravagance and Av'rice shall subscribe. While fame and self-complacence are the bril>e. The brief proclaim'd, it visits ev'ry pew, But first the squire's a compliment but due j 470 With slow deliberation he unties His glitt'ring purse, that envy of all eyes, And, while the clerk just puzzles out the psalm, Slides guinea behind guinea in his palm ', CHARITY. 119 Till finding, what he might have found before, 475 A smaller piece amidst the precious store, Pinch'd close between his finger and his thumb, He half exhibits and then drops the sum. Gold to be sure ! — Throughout the town 'tis told How the good squire gives never less than gold. 480 From motives such as his, though not the best, Springs in due time supply for the distress'd ; Not less eflfectual than what love bestows, Except that office clips it as it goes. But lest I seem to sin against a friend, 485 And wound the grace I mean to recommend, (Though vice derided with a just design Implies no trespass against love divine,) Once more I would adopt the graver style, A teacher should be sparing of his smile, 490 Unless a love of virtue light the flame, Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame ; He hides behind a magisterial air His own offences, and strips others' bare : Affects indeed a most humane concern, 495 That men, if gently tutor'd, will not learn ;*^ ^ Jiiaq u J The mulish Folly, not to be reclaim 'd (not f>Fod ' By softer methods, must be made asham'd ; But, (I might instance in St. Patrick's dean,) Too oflen rails to gratify his spleen. 500 Most sat'rists are indeed a publick scourge : Their mildest physick is a farrier's purge ; Their acid temper turns, as soon as stirr'd. The milk of their good purpose all to curd. Their zeal begotten, as their works rehearse, 505 By lean despair upon an empty purse, The wild assassins start into the street, Prepar'd to poniard whomsoe'er they meet. No skill in swordmanship, however just. Can be secure, against a madman's thrust ; 510 And even Virtue, so unfairly match'd, Althoug/i inmiorta], may be prick'd or scratch'd 120 CHARITY. When Scandal has new-minted an cild lie, Or tax'd invention for a fresh supply, 'Tis call'd a satire, and the world appears 615 Gath'ring around it with erected ears: A thousand names are toss'd into the crowd ; Some whisper'd softly,. and some twang'd aloud; Just as the sapience of an author's brain Suggests it safe or dangerous to be plain — 520 Strange ? how the frequent interjected dash - Quickens a market, and helps off the trash ; Th' important letters that include the rest, Serve as a key to those that are suppress'd ; Conjecture gripes the victims in his paw, 52S The world is charm'd, and Scrib escapes the law. So, when the cold damp shades of night prevail, Worms may be caught by either head or tail ; Forcibly drawn from many a close/recess, They meet with little pity, no redress ; 530 Plung'd in the stream, they lodge upon thtj^inudy Tood for the famish 'd rovers of the flood. ; All zeal for a reform, that gives offence To peace and charity, is mere pretence ; A bold remark, but wliich if well appUed, 535 Would humble many a tow*ring poet's pride. Perhaps the man was in a sportive fit, And had no other play place for his wit ; Perhaps enchanted with the love of fame, He sought the jewel in his neighbour's fehamo ; 540 Perhaps — whatever end he might pursue, The cause of virtue could not be his view. At ev'ry stroke wit flashes in our eyes ; The turns are quick, the polish'd points surprise, But shine with cruel and tremendous charms, 545 That, while they please, possess us with alarms j So have I seen, (and hasten'd to the sight On all the wings of holiday delight,) Where stands that monument of ancient pow*r, Nara'd with emphatick dignity, the Tow'r, 550 CHARITY. 121 Guns, halberts, swords, and pistols, great and smaU, . In starry forms dispos'd upon the wall ; We wonder, as wo gazing stand below, That brass and steel should make so fine a shOw ; But though we praise th' exatJt designer's skill, 55S Account them implements of mischief still. No works shall find acceptance in that day, When all disguises shall be rent away, That square not truly with the Scripture plan, Nor spring from love to God, or love to man. 560 As he ordains things sordid in their birth To be resolv'd into their parent earth j And though the soul shall seek superiour orbs, Whate'er this world produces it absorbs; So self starts nothing, but what tends apace 565 Home to the goal, where it began the race. Such as our motive is, our aim must be ; If this be servile, that can ne'er be free : If self employ us, whatsoe'er is wrought, We glorify that self, not him we ought ; 570 Such virtues had need prove their own reward, The judge of all men owes thera no regard. True Charity, a plant divinely nurs'd. Fed by the love from which it rose at first. Thrives against hope, and in the rudest scene, 575 Storms but enliven its unfading green , Exub'rant is the shadow it supplies. Its fruit on earth, its growth above the skies. To look at him who form'd us and redeemed, So glorious now, though once so disesteem'd, 580 To see a God stretch forth his human hand, T* uphold the boundless scenes of his command ', To recollect that in a form like ours, He bruis'd beneath his feet th' infernal pow'rs, Captivity led captive, rose to claim 585 The wreath he won so dearly in our name ; That, thron'd above all height, he condescends To call the few that trust in him his friends ; Vol. I. 11 122 CHARITY. That in the heav'n of heav'ns, that space ho deems Too scanty for th' exertion of his beams, 590 And shines as if impatient to bestow Life and a kingdom upon worms below ; That sight imparts a never-dying flame, Though feeble in degree, in kind the same. Like him the soul thus kindled from above 595 Spreads wide her arms of universal love : And, still enlarg'd as she receives the grace, Includes creation in her close embrace. Behold a christian ! — and without the fires The founder of that name alone inspires, 600 Though all accomplishment, all knowledge meet To make the shining prodigy complete. Whoever boasts that name — behold a cheat ! Were love, in these the world's last doting years As frequent as the want of it appears, 605 The churches warm'd, they would no longer hold Such frozen figures, stiff as they are cold ; Relenting forms would lose their pow'r, or cease j And e'en the dipp'd and sprinkled live in peace : Each heart would quit its prison in the breast, 610 And flow in free communion with the rest. The statesman, skill'd in projects dark and deep, Might burn his useless Machiavel, and sleep ; His budget often fill'd, yet always poor. Might swing at ease behind his study door, 615 No longer prey upon our annual rents. Or scare the nation with its big contents . Disbanded legions freely might depart. And slaying man would cease to be an art. No learned disputants would take the field, 620 Sure not to conquer, and sure not to yield j Both sides deceived, if rightly understood, Pelting each other for the publick good. Did charity prevail, the press would prove A vehicle of virtue, truth, and love ; 685 CHARITY. 123 And 1 might spare myself the pains to show What few can learn, and all suppose they know. Thus have I sought to grace a serious lay With many a wild, indeed, but flow'ry spray, In hopes to gain what else I must have lost, 630 Th' attention pleasure has so much engross'd. But if unhappily deceiv'd I dream, And prove too weak for so divine a theme, Let Charity forgive me a mistake, That zeal, not vanity, has chanc'd to make, 636 And spare the poet for his subject's sike. CONVERSATION. Nam neqiu me tantum venientis sibihis austri. Nee percussajuvantjlitctu tarn litoraj luc qu(B Saxosas inter decuirant Jlumina inlles. _ , ^ ViRG. Eel. 6. THOUGH nature weigh our talents, and dispense Co ev'ry man his modicum of sense, A.nd Conversation in its better part May be esteem'd a gift, and not an art, Yet much depends, as in the tiller's toil, 6 On culture and the sowing of the soil. Words learn'd by rote a parrot may rehearse, But talking is not always to converse ; Not m»re distinct from harmony divine. The constant creaking of a country sign. 10 As Alphabets in ivory employ, Hour after hour, the yet unlettered boy. Sorting and puzzling with a deal of glee Those seeds of science, callod his A B C ; So language in the mouths of the adult, 15 Witness its insignificant result. Too often proves an implement of play, A toy to sport with, and pass time away. Collect at evening what the day brought forth, Compress the sum into its solid worth, 20 CONVERSATION. 125 And if it weigh the importance of a fly, The scales are false, or algebra a lie, Sacred interpreter of human thought, How few respect or use thee as they ought ! But all shall give account of ev'ry wrong, 25 Who dare dishonour or defile the tongue ; Who prostitute it in the caus6 of vice. Or sell their glory at the market price ; Who vote for hire, or point it with lampoon, The dear-bought placeman, and the cheap buffoon. 30 There is a prurience in the speech of some. Wrath stays him, or else God would strike them dumb His wise forbearance has their end in view, They fill their measure, and receive their due. The heathen lawgivers of ancient days, 35 Names almost worthy of a Christian's praise, Would drive them forth from the resort of men, And shut up ev'ry satyr in his den. O come not ye near innocence and truth, Ye worms that eat into the bud of youth ; 40 Infectious as impure, your blighting pow'r Taints in its rudiments the promis'd flow*r; Its odour perish'd, and its charming hue, Thenceforth 'tis hateful, for it smells of you. Not e'en the vigorous and headlong rage 45 Of adolescence, or a firmer age, Affords a plea allowable or just, For making speech the pampercr of lust ; But when the breath of age commits the fault, *Tis nauseous as the vapour of a vault. 50 So wither'd stumps disgrace the sylvan scene, No longer fruitful, and no longer green ; The sapless wood, divested of the bark, Grows fungous, and takes fire at every spark. Oaths terminate, as Paul observes, all strife— 55 Some men have surely then a peaceful life : Whatever subject occupy discourse, The feats of Vestris, or the naval force, 11 ♦ 126 ^CONVERSATION. Asseveration blustering in your face Makes contradiction such a hopeless xsase : ^60 In ev'ry tale they tell, or false, or true, Well known, or such as no man ever knew, They fix attention, heedless of your pain, With oaths like rivets forc'd into the brain ; And e'en when sober truth prevails throughout, 65 They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt. A Persian, humble servant of the sun, Who, though devout, yet bigotry had none, Hearing a lawyer, grave in his address, With adjurations ev'ry word impress, 70 Suppos'd the man a bishop, or at least, God's name so much upon his lips, a priest ! Bow'd at the close with all his graceful airs, And begg'd an interest in his frequent pray'rs. Go quit the rank to which ye stood preferr'd, 75 Henceforth associate in one common herd ; Religion, virtue, reason, common sense. Pronounce your human form a false pretence ; A mere disguise, in which a devil lurks. Who yet betrays his secret by his works. 80 Ye pow'rs who rule the tongue, if such there are, And make colloquial happiness your care. Preserve me from the thing I dread and hate, A duel in the form of a debate, The clash of arguments and jar of words, 85 Worse than the mortal brunt of rival swords. Decide no question with their tedious length, (For opposition gives opinion strength) Divert the champions prodigal of breath. And put the peaceably dispos'd to death. 90 0 thwart me not. Sir Soph, at ev'ry turn. Nor carp at ev'ry flaw you may discern ; Though syllogisms hang not on my tongue, 1 am not surely always in the wrong : 'Tis hard if all is false that I advance, 95 A fool must now and then be right by chance. CONVERSATION. Ifi7 Not all that freedom of dissent 1 blame j No — there I grant the privilege I claim. A disputable point, is no man's ground ; Rove where you please, 'tis common all around. 100 Discourse may want an animated — No, To brush the surface, and to make it flow ; But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease, The mark at which my juster aim I take, 105 Is contradiction for its own dear sake. Set your opinion at whatever pitch, Knots and impediments make something hitch , Adopt his own, tis equally in vain, Your thread of argument is snapp'd again ; 110 The wrangler, rather than accord with you, Will judge himself deceiv'd, and prove it too. Vociferated logick kills me quite, A noisy man is always in the right — I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair, 115 Fix on the wainscoat a distressful stare, And when I hope his blimders are all out, , Reply discreetly — To be sure — no doubt ! Dubious is such a scrupulous good man — Yes — ^you may catch him tripping, if you can. 120 He would not with a peremptory tone, Assert the nose upon his face his own ; With hesitation admirably slow, He humbly hopes — presumes — it may be so. His evidence, if he were call'd by law 125 To swear to some enormity he saw. For want of prominence and just relief, Would hang an honest man, and save a thief. Through constant dread of giving truth offence, He ties up all his hearers in suspense ; 13(? Knows what he knows, as if he knew it not ; Wliat he remembers, seems to have forgot *. His sole opinion, whatsoe'er befall, Centering at last in having none at all 128 CONVERSATION. Yet, though ho tease and balk your list'ning ear, 135 He makes one useful point exceeding clear ; Howe'er ingenious on his darling theme A sceptick in philosophy may seem, Reduc'd to practice, his beloved rule Would only prove him a consummate fool : 140 Useless in him alike both brain and speech, Fate having plac'd all truth above liis reach, His ambiguities his total sum, He might as well be blind, and deaf, and dumb. Where men of judgment creep and feel their way, 145 The positive pronounce without dismay ; Their want of light and intellect supplied By sparks absurdity strikes out of pride. Without the means of knowing right from wrong, They always are decisive, clear, and strong; 150 Where others toil with philosophick force. Their nimble nonsense takes a shorter course ; Flings at your head conviction in the lump. And gains remote conclusions at a jump : Their own defect invisible to them, 155 Seen in another, they at once condemn ; And, though self-idolized in ev'ry case, Hate their own likeness in a brother's face. The cause is plain, and not to be denied, The proud are always most provok'd by pride, 160 Few competitions but engender spite ; And those the most, where neither has a right. TJie point of honour has been deem'd of use, To teach good manners and to curb abuse ; Admit it true, the consequence is clear, 165 Our polish'd manners are a mask we wear, And, at the bottom barb'rous still and rude, We are restrain'd, indeed, but not subdu'd. The very remedy, however sure, Springs from the mischief it intends to cure, 170 And savage in its principle appears, Tried as it should be, by the fruit it bears CONVERSATION. 129 *Ti3 hard, indeed if nothing will defend Mankind from quarrels but their fatal end ; That now and then a hero must decease, 175 That the surviving world may live in peace. Perhaps at last close scrutiny may show The practice dastardly, and mean, and low ; That men engage in it compelPd by forcOj And fear, not courage, is its proper source, 180 The fear of tyrant custom, and the fear Lest fops should censure us, and fools should sneer. At least to trample on our Maker's laws, And hazard life for any or no cause, To rush into a fix'd eternal state 185 Out of the very flames of rage and hate. Or send another shiv'ring to the bar With all the guilt of such unnatural war, Whatever Use may urge, or Honour plead. On Reason's verdict is a madman's deed. J 90 Am I to set my life upon a throw, Because a bear is rude, and surly ? No — A moral, sensible, and well-bred man Will not aflfront mo ; and no other can. Were I empowered to regulate the lists, 195 They should encounter with well-loaded fists I A Trojan combat would be somethmg r..ew. Let Dares beat Entellus black ana biue ; Then each might show, to his admirmg friendS; In honourable bumps his rich amends, 200 And carry in contusions of his skull, A satisfactory receipt in full A story, in which native humour telgne. Is often useful, always entertains : A graver fact, enlisted on your side, -205 May furnish illustration, well applied ; But sedentary weavers of long tales Give me the fidgets, and my patience fails. *Tis the most asinine employ on earth, To hear them tell of parentage and birth, 210 130 CONVERSATION. And echo conversations, dull and dry, Embellished with — He said, and So said /. At ev'ry interview their route the same, The repetition makes attention lame : We bustle up with unsuccessful speed, 215 And in the saddest part cry — Droll indeed The path of narrative with care pursue, Still making probabiUty your clew ; On all the vestiges of truth attend. And let them guide you to a decent end. 220 Of all ambitions man may entertain, The worst, that can invade a sickly brain, Is that, which angles hourly for surprise. And baits its hook with prodigies and lies. Credulous infancy, or age as weak, 225 Are fittest auditors for such to seek. Who to please others will themselves disgrace, Yet please not, but affront you to your face. A great retailer of this curious ware Having unloaded and made many stare, 230 Can this be true ? — an arch observer cries. Yes, (rather mov'd) I saw it with these eyes ; Sir ! I believe it on that ground alone ; I could not, had I seen it with my own. A tale should be judicious, clear, succinct ; 235 The language plain, and incidents well link'd , Tell not as new what ev'ry body knows, And, new or old, still hasten to a close ; There, cent'ring in a focus round and neat, Let all your rays of information meet. 240 What neither yields us profit nor delight Is like a nurse's lullaby at night ; Guy, Earl of Warwick and fair Eleanor, Or giant-killing Jack, would please me more. The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, 245 Makes half a sentence at a time enough ; The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain. Then pause, and puff— and speak, and pause again. CONVERSATION. I^i'