stood by,

And view'd the priest with insult in her eye: She thrice had heard him when he boldly spoke

On dangerous points, and fear'd he would revoke :

For James she loved not-and her manner told,

This warm affection will be quickly cold:' And still she fear'd impression might be made Upon a subject, nervous and decay'd; She knew her danger, and had no desire Of reformation in the gallant 'squire; And felt an envious pleasure in her breast To see the rector daunted and distress'd. Again the uncle to the youth applied'Cast, my dear lad, that cursed gloom aside: There are for all things time and place; appear Grave in your pulpit, and be merry here: Now take your wine-for woes a sure resource, And the best prelude to a long discourse.'

·

James half obey'd, but cast an angry eye On the fair lass, who still stood watchful by; Resolving thus, have my fears-but still I must perform my duties, and I will; No love, no interest, shall my mind control; Better to lose my comforts than my soul; Better my uncle's favour to abjure, Than the upbraidings of my heart endure.' He took his glass, and then address'd the 'squire:

'I feel not well, permit me to retire.' The 'squire conceived that the ensuing day Gave him these terrors for the grand essay, When he himself should this young preacher try,

And stand before him with observant eye;
This raised compassion in his manly breast,
And he would send the rector to his rest:
Yet first, in soothing voice-' A moment stay,
And these suggestions of a friend obey;
Treasure these hints, if fame or peace you
prize-

The bottle emptied, I shall close my eyes.
'On every priest a two-fold care attends,
To prove his talents, and insure his friends:
First, of the first-your stores at once produce,
And bring your reading to its proper use:
On doctrines dwell, and every point enforce
By quoting much, the scholar's sure resource;
For he alone can show us on each head
What ancient schoolmen and sage fathers said:

show

How well you studied, and how much you know:

Is faith your subject, and you judge it right On theme so dark to cast a ray of light; Be it that faith the orthodox maintain, Found in the rubrick, what the creeds explain; Fail not to show us on this ancient faith (And quote the passage) what some martyr saith:

Dwell not one moment on a faith that shocks
The minds of men sincere and orthodox;
That gloomy faith, that robs the wounded
mind

Of all the comfort it was wont to find
From virtuous acts, and to the soul denies
Its proper due for alms and charities;
That partial faith, that, weighing sins alone,
Lets not a virtue for a fault atone;
That starving faith, that would our tables
clear,

And make one dreadful Lent of all the year;
And cruel too, for this is faith that rends
Confiding beauties from protecting friends;
A faith that all embracing, what a gloom
Deep and terrific o'er the land would come !
What scenes of horror would that time dis-
close!

No sight but misery, and no sound but woes;
Your nobler faith, in loftier style convey'd,
Shall be with praise and admiration paid:
On points like these your hearers all admire
A preacher's depth, and nothing more require;
Shall we a studious youth to college send,
That every clown his words may comprehend?
'Tis for your glory, when your hearers own
Your learning matchless, but the sense

unknown.

'Thus honour gain'd, learn now to gain a

friend,

And the sure way is-never. to offend;
For, James, consider-what your neighbours
do

Is their own business, and concerns not you:
Shun all resemblance to that forward race
Who preach of sins before a sinner's face;
And seem as if they overlook'd a pew,
Only to drag a failing man in view:
Much should I feel, when groaning in disease,
If a rough hand upon my limb should seize ;
But great my anger, if this hand were found
The very doctor's, who should make it sound:

So feel our minds, young priest, so doubly feel, When hurt by those whose office is to heal.

'Yet of our duties you must something tell, And must at times on sin and frailty dwell; Here you may preach in easy, flowing style, How errors cloud us, and how sins defile: Here bring persuasive tropes and figures forth, To show the poor that wealth is nothing worth; That they, in fact, possess an ample share Of the world's good, and feel not half its care; Give them this comfort, and, indeed, my gout In its full vigour causes me some doubt; And let it always, for your zeal, suffice, That vice you combat, in the abstract-vice: The very captious will be quiet then; We all confess we are offending men : In lashing sin, of every stroke beware, For sinners feel, and sinners you must spare; In general satire, every man perceives A slight attack, yet neither fears nor grieves; But name th' offence, and you absolve the rest,

And point the dagger at a single breast.

'Yet are there sinners of a class so low, That you with safety may the lash bestow; Poachers, and drunkards, idle rogues, who feed At others' cost, a mark'd correction need: And all the better sort, who see your zeal, Will love and reverence for their pastor feel; Reverence for one who can inflict the smart, And love, because he deals them not a part. 'Remember well what love and age advise; A quiet rector is a parish prize, Who in his learning has a decent pride; Who to his people is a gentle guide; Who only hints at failings that he sees; Who loves his glebe, his patron, and his ease, And finds the way to fame and profit is to please.'

The nephew answer'd not, except a sigh And look of sorrow might be term'd reply; He saw the fearful hazard of his state, And held with truth and safety strong debate; Nor long he reason'd, for the zealous youth Resolved, though timid, to profess the truth; And though his friend should like a lion roar, Truth would he preach, and neither less nor

more.

The bells had toll'd-arrived the time of prayer,

The flock assembled, and the 'squire was there: And now can poet sing, or proseman say, The disappointment of that trying day?

As he who long had train'd a favourite steed, (Whose blood and bone gave promise of his speed,)

Sanguine with hope, he runs with partial eye
O'er every feature, and his bets are high;
Of triumph sure, he sees the rivals start,
And waits their coming with exulting heart;
Forestalling glory, with impatient glance,
And sure to see his conquering steed advance;
The conquering steed advances-luckless day!
A rival's Herod bears the prize away.
Nor second his, nor third, but lagging last,
With hanging head he comes, by all surpass'd:
Surprise and wrath the owner's mind inflame,
Love turns to scorn, and glory ends in
shame ;-

Thus waited, high in hope, the partial 'squire,
Eager to hear, impatient to admire :
When the young preacher in the tones that
find

A certain passage to the kindling mind,
With air and accent strange, impressive, sad,
Alarm'd the judge-he trembled for the lad;
But when the text announced the power of

grace,

Amazement scowl'd upon his clouded face,
At this degenerate son of his illustrious race;
Staring he stood, till hope again arose,
That James might well define the words he
chose :

For this he listen'd-but, alas! he found
The preacher always on forbidden ground.

And now the uncle left the hated pew, With James, and James's conduct in his view; A long farewell to all his favourite schemes ! For now no crazed fanatic's frantic dreams Seem'd vile as James's conduct, or as James: All he had long derided, hated, fear'd, This from the chosen youth the uncle heard ;The needless pause, the fierce disorder'd air, The groan for sin, the vehemence of prayer, Gave birth to wrath, that, in a long dis

course

Of grace, triumphant rose to four-fold force; He found his thoughts despised, his rules transgress'd,

And while the anger kindled in his breast, The pain must be endured that could not be express'd :

Each new idea more inflamed his ire,
As fuel thrown upon a rising fire:
A hearer yet, he sought by threatening sign
To ease his heart, and awe the young divine;

But James refused those angry looks to meet,
Till he dismiss'd his flock, and left his seat:
Exhausted then he felt his trembling frame,
But fix'd his soul-his sentiments the same;
And therefore wise it seem'd to fly from rage,
And seek for shelter in his parsonage :
There, if forsaken, yet consoled to find
Some comforts left, though not a few resign'd;
There, if he lost an erring parent's love,
An honest conscience must the cause approve;
If the nice palate were no longer fed,
The mind enjoy'd delicious thoughts instead;
And if some part of earthly good was flown,
Still was the tithe of ten good farms his own.

Fear now, and discord, in the village reign, The cool remonstrate, and the meek complain; But there is war within, and wisdom pleads in vain :

Now dreads the uncle, and proclaims his dread,

Lest the boy-priest should turn each rustic head;

The 'squire he honour'd, and, for his poor part,
He hated nothing like a hollow heart:
But 'twas a maxim he had often tried,
That right was right, and there he would
abide;

He honour'd learning, and he would confess
The preacher had his talents-more or less:
Why not agree? he thought the young divine
Had no such strictness-they might drink
and dine;

For them sufficient-but he said before,That truth was truth, and he would drink no more.'

This heard the 'squire with mix'd contempt and pain;

He fear'd the priest this recreant sot would gain.

The favourite nymph, though not a convert made,

Conceived the man she scorn'd her cause would aid;

And when the spirits of her lord were low, The lass presumed the wicked cause to show : It was the wretched life his Honour led, And would draw vengeance on his guilty head; Their loves (Heav'n knew how dreadfully distress'd

moved;

As the third bottle gave its spirit forth, And they bore witness to departed worth, The friend arose, and he too would depart :'Man,' said the 'squire,' thou wert not wont to start;

Hast thou attended to that foolish boy, Who would abridge all comforts, or destroy?' Yes, he had listen'd, who had slumber'd long,

And was convinced that something must be wrong:

But, though affected, still his yielding heart, And craving palate, took the uncle's part; Wine now oppress'd him, who, when free

from wine,

Could seldom clearly utter his design;
But though by nature and indulgence weak,
Yet, half converted, he resolved to speak;
And, speaking, own'd,' that in his mind the
youth

Had gifts and learning, and that truth was truth:

unbless'd :

she saw

-Here

With stragglers of each adverse camp, who lend
Their aid to both, but each in turn offend.
Though zealous still, yet he begins to feel
The heat too fierce, that glows in vulgar zeal;
With pain he hears his simple friends relate
Their week's experience, and their woful state:
With small temptation struggling every hour,
And bravely battling with the tempting power;
His native sense is hurt by strange complaints
Of inward motions in these warring saints;
Who never cast on sinful bait a look
But they perceive the devil at the hook :

Grieved, yet compell'd to smile, he finds it hard

Against the blunders of conceit to guard;
He sighs to hear the jests his converts cause,
He cannot give their erring zeal applause;
But finds it inconsistent to condemn
The flights and follies he has nursed in them:
These, in opposing minds, contempt produce,
Or mirth occasion, or provoke abuse;
On each momentous theme disgrace they
bring,

And give to Scorn her poison and her sting.

Think'st thou I'd make a life of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon,
With fresh suspicions?
Othello, Act iii, Scene 3.
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy
cheeks,

And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?
1 Henry IV, Act ii, Scene 3.
It is excellent
To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous
To use it as a giant.

Measure for Measure, Act ii, Scene 2.

ANNA was young and lovely-in her eye
The glance of beauty, in her cheek the dye;
Her shape was slender, and her features small,
But graceful, easy, unaffected all :

The liveliest tints her youthful face disclosed; There beauty sparkled, and there health reposed;

For the pure blood that flush'd that rosy cheek Spoke what the heart forbad the tongue to speak;

And told the feelings of that heart as well, Nay, with more candour than the tongue could tell :

Though this fair lass had with the wealthy dwelt,

Yet like the damsel of the cot she felt;
And, at the distant hint or dark surmise,
The blood into the mantling cheek would rise.
Now Anna's station frequent terrors
wrought

In one whose looks were with such meaning fraught;

For on a lady, as an humble friend,
It was her painful office to attend.

Her duties here were of the usual kind

And some the body harass'd, some the mind:
Billets she wrote, and tender stories read,
To make the lady sleepy in her bed;
She play'd at whist, but with inferior skill,
And heard the summons as a call to drill;
Music was ever pleasant till she play'd
At a request that no request convey'd ;
The lady's tales with anxious looks she heard,
For she must witness what her friend averr'd;
The lady's taste she must in all approve,
Hate whom she hated, whom she loved must
love;

These with the various duties of her place, With care she studied, and perform'd with grace;

She veil'd her troubles in a mask of ease, And show'd her pleasure was a power to please.

Such were the damsel's duties; she was

With pensive soul she read life's future page,
And saw dependent, poor, repining age.
But who shall dare t' assert what years may
bring:

When wonders from the passing hour may spring ?

There dwelt a yeoman in the place, whose mind

Was gentle, generous, cultivated, kind;
For thirty years he labour'd; fortune then
Placed the mild rustic with superior men :
A richer Stafford who had lived to save,
What he had treasured to the poorer gave;
Who with a sober mind that treasure view'd,
And the slight studies of his youth renew'd :
He not profoundly, but discreetly read,
And a fair mind with useful culture fed ;
Then thought of marriage' But the great,'
said he,

'I shall not suit, nor will the meaner me :
Anna he saw, admired her modest air;
He thought her virtuous, and he knew her
fair;

Love raised his pity for her humble state, And prompted wishes for her happier fate; No pride in money would his feelings wound, Nor vulgar manners hurt him and confound: He then the lady at the hall address'd, Sought her consent, and his regard express'd; Yet if some cause his earnest wish denied, He begg'd to know it, and he bow'd and sigh'd. The lady own'd that she was loth to part, But praised the damsel for her gentle heart, Her pleasing person, and her blooming health; But ended thus, Her virtue is her wealth.' Then is she rich!' he cried, with lively

6

Yet, e'en with me protection is not peace, Nor man's designs, nor beauty's trial, cease; Like sordid boys by costly fruit they feel, They will not purchase, but they try to steal.' Now this good lady, like a witness true, Told but the truth, and all the truth she knew; And 'tis our duty and our pain to show Truth this good lady had not means to know. Yes, there was lock'd within the damsel's breast

A fact important to be now confess'd; Gently, my muse, th' afflicting tale relate, And have some feeling for a sister's fate. Where Anna dwelt, a conquering hero

came,

An Irish captain, Sedley was his name;
And he too had that same prevailing art,
That gave soft wishes to the virgin's heart :
In years they differ'd; he had thirty seen
When this young beauty counted just fifteen ;
But still they were a lovely lively pair,
And trod on earth as if they trod on air.

Onlove, delightful theme! the captain dwelt
With force still growing with the hopes he felt;
But with some caution and reluctance told,
He had a father crafty, harsh, and old;
Who, as possessing much, would much expect,
Or both, for ever, from his love reject:
Why then offence to one so powerful give,
Who (for their comfort) had not long to live?

With this poor prospect the deluded maid, In words confiding, was indeed betray'd; And, soon as terrors in her bosom rose, The hero fled; they hinder'd his repose. Deprived of him she to a parent's breast Her secret trusted, and her pains impress'd : Let her to town (so prudence urged) repair, To shun disgrace, at least to hide it there; But ere she went, the luckless damsel pray'd A chosen friend might lend her timely aid:

'Yes! my soul's sister, my Eliza, come, Hear her last sigh, and ease thy Anna's doom: '

'Tis a fool's wish,' the angry father cried, But, lost in troubles of his own, complied; And dear Eliza to her friend was sent, T' indulge that wish, and be her punishment: The time arrived, and brought a tenfold dread; The time was past, and all the terror fled; The infant died; the face resumed each charm,

And reason now brought trouble and alarm :