ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK. Historical deduction of seats, from the stool to the Sofa.-A School-boy's ramble.-A walk in the country. The scene described.-Rural sounds as well as sights delightful.-Another walk.-Mistake concerning the charms of solitude corrected.Colonnades commended.-Alcove, and the view from it.-The wilderness.-The grove.—The thresher.— The necessity and the benefits of exercise.-The works of nature superior to, and in some instances inimitable by, art.—The wearisomeness of what is commonly called a life of pleasure.-Change of scene sometimes expedient.-A common described, und the character of crazy Kate introduced.-Gipsies.-The blessings of civilized life.-That state most favourable to virtue.-The South Sea islanders compassionated, but chiefly Omai.-His present state of mind supposed.—Civilized life friendly to virtue, but not great cities.-Great cities, and London in particular, allowed their due praise, but censured.-Fete champêtre.-The book concludes with a reflection on the fatal effects of dissipation und effeminacy upon our public measures. THE TASK. BOOK I. THE SOFA. I SING the Sofa. I who lately sang Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use, Save their own painted skins, our sires had none. As yet black breeches were not; satin smooth, Or velvet soft, or plush with shaggy pile: And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms: And drill'd in holes, the solid oak is found, By worms voracious eating through and through. At length a generation more refin'd Improv'd the simple plan; made three legs four, And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd, And woven close, or needlework sublime. There might ye see the piony spread wide, Now came the cane from India smooth and bright With Nature's varnish; sever'd into stripes, That interlac'd each other, these supplied Of texture firm a lattice-work, that brac'd The new machine, and it became a chair. But restless was the chair; the back erect Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease; The slipp'ry seat betray'd the sliding part, That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down, Anxious in vain to find the distant floor. These for the rich; the rest whom Fate had plac'd In modest mediocrity, content With base materials, sat on well-tann'd hides, Obdurate and unyielding, glassy smooth, If cushion might be call'd, what harder seem'd |