THE

CHARACTER

OF

A GOOD PARSON.

A PARISH priest was-of the pilgrim train;

An awful, rev'rend, and religious man.
His eyes diffus'd a venerable grace;
And charity, itself, was in his face.

Rich was his soul, tho' his attire was poor;
(As God had cloth'd his own ambassador ;
For such, on earth, his bless'd redeemer bore* ;)
Of sixty years he seem'd; and well might last
To sixty more, but that he liv'd too fast;

Refin'd himself to soul, to curb the sense ;
And made, almost a sin, of abstinence.
Yet, had his aspect nothing of severe,
But such a face as promis'd him sincere.
Nothing reserv'd, or sullen, was to see † :
But sweet regards; and pleasing sanctity;
Mild was his accent; and his action, free.
With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd ;
Tho' harsh, the precept yet the people charm'd.

* Read wore.

+For to be seen.'

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For, letting down the golden chain from high,
He drew his audience upward to the sky.
And oft, with holy hymns, he charm'd their ears
(A music more melodious than the spheres):
For David left him, when he went to rest,
His lyre; and, after Him, he sung the best.
He bore his great commission, in his look:
But, sweetly, temper'd awe; and soften'd all he
spoke.

He preach'd the joys of heav'n, and pains of hell,
And warn'd the sinner with becoming zeal;
But on eternal mercy lov'd to dwell.

He taught the gospel rather than the law;

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And forc'd himself to drive; but lov'd to draw.
For fear but freezes minds: but love, like heat,
Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat.
To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard,
Wrapp'd in his crimes, against the storm prepar'd;
But when the milder beams of mercy play, 36
He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away.
Lightning and thunder (heaven's artillery)
As harbingers before th' almighty fly:
Those but proclaim his stile, and disappear; 40
The stiller sound succeeds, and God is there.

The tithes, his parish freely paid, he took;
But never sued, or curs'd with bell and book.

Reluctant mov'd is offered as the idea probably intended by And forc'd himself, should this negligent expression appear obscure.

With patience bearing wrong; but off'ring none: Since every man is free to lose his own.

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The country churls, according to their kind,
(Who grudge their dues, and love to be behind,)
The less he sought his off'rings, pinch'd the more,
And prais'd a priest, contented to be poor.

Yet, of his little, he had some to spare,

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To feed the famish'd, and to clothe the bare:
For mortify'd he was to that degree,
A poorer than himself, he would not see.
True priests, he said, and preachers of the word,
Were only stewards of their sov'reign lord; 55
Nothing was theirs; but all, the public store;
Intrusted riches, to relieve the poor :-
Who, should they steal, for want of his relief,
He judg'd himself accomplice with the thief.

Wide was his parish; not contracted close 60 In streets, but here, and there, a straggling house;

Yet still he was at hand, (without request,)
To serve the sick; to succour the distress'd:
Tempting, on foot, alone, without affright,
The dangers of a dark tempestuous night,

All this, the good old man perform'd alone,
Nor spar'd his pains; for curate he had nonę.
Nor durst he trust another with his care;
Nor rode himself to Paul's, the public fair,
To chaffer, for preferment, with his gold,
Where bishoprics and sinecures are sold,

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But duly watch'd his flock, by night and day;
And from the prowling wolf redeem'd the
And hungry sent the wily fox away.

prey;

The proud he tam'd, the penitent he cheer'd: 75 Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd.

His preaching much, but more his practice wrought
(A living sermon of the truths he taught);
For this, by rules severe his life he squar'd—
That all might see the doctrine which they heard. 80
For priests, he said, are patterns for the rest
(The gold of heaven, who bear the God impress'd):
But when the precious coin is kept unclean,
The sov'reign's image is no longer seen.
If they be foul, on whom the people trust,
Well may the baser brass, contract a rust.

The Prelate, for his holy life, he priz'd;
The wordly pomp of prelacy despis❜d.
His Saviour came not with a gaudy show;
Nor was His kingdom of the world below.
Patience in want, and poverty of mind-
These marks of church and churchmen He
design'd,

And, living, taught, and, dying, left behind.
The crown He wore was of the pointed thorn:
In purple He was crucify'd, not born,
They who contend for place and high degree,
Are not His sons, but those of Zebedee.

Not but he knew the signs of earthly pow'r
Might well become Saint Peter's successor;

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The holy father holds a double reign;

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The prince may keep his pomp; the fisher, must be plain.

Such was the saint; who shone with ev'ry grace, Reflecting, Moses like, his Maker's face.

God saw his image, lively, was express'd;
And his own work, as in creation, bless'd.

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The tempter saw him, too, with envious eye; And, as on Job, demanded leave to try. He took the time when Richard was depos'd, And high and low with happy Harry clos'd, 'This prince, tho' great in arms, the priest withstood: Near tho' he was, yet not the next of blood. 111 Had Richard, unconstrain'd, resign'd the throne, A king can give no more than is his own: The title stood entail'd, had Richard had a son. Conquest, an odious name, was laid aside; 115 Where all submitted, none the battle try’d. The senseless plea of right by providenceWas, by a flatt'ring priest, invented since ; And lasts no longer than the present sway; But justifies the next who comes in play.

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The people's right remains: let those who dare Dispute their power, when they the judges are.

He join'd not in their choice; because he knew Worse might, and often did, from change ensue. Much to himself he thought; but little spoke: 125 And, undepriv'd, his benefice forsook.

Now, thro' the land, his cure of souls he stretch'd: And like a primitive apostle preach'd.