While others in such monstrous forms appear,
As tongue-tied sourness, sly suspicion's leer,
Free-fisted rudeness, dropsical pretence,
Proteus' caprice, and elbowing insolence;
No caution to avoid them they demand,
Like wretches branded by the hangman's hand.
If faith to some philosophers be given,
Man, that great lord of earth, that heir of heaven,
Savage at first, inhabited the wood,
And scrambled with his fellow-brutes for food;
No social home he knew, no friendship's tie,
Selfish in good, in ill without ally;
Till some in length of time, of stronger nerve
And greater cunning, forced the rest to serve
One common purpose, and, in nature's spite,
Brought the whole jarring species to unite.
But might we not with equal reason say,
That every single particle of clay,
Which forms our body, was at first design'd
To lie for ever from the rest disjoin'd?
Can this be said, and can it be allow'd
"Twas with its powers for no one end endow'd?
If so; we own that man, at first, by art
Was soothed to act in social life a part.
"Tis true, in some the seeds of discord seem
To contradict this all-uniting scheme :
But that no more hurts nature's general course
Than matter found with a repelling force.
Turn we awhile on lonely man our eyes,
And see what frantic scenes of folly rise:
In some dark monastery's gloomy cells,
Where formal self-presuming Virtue dwells,
Bedozed with dreams of grace-distilling caves,
Of holy puddles, unconsuming graves,
Of animated plaster, wood, and stone,
And mighty cures by sainted sinners done.
Permit me, Muse, still further to explore,
And turn the leaves of superstition o'er;
Where wonders upon wonders ever grow,
Chaos of zeal and blindness, mirth and woe;
Visions of devils into monkeys turn'd*,
That hot from hell roar at a finger burn'd;
Bottles of precious tears that saints have weptt,
And breath a thousand years in phials kept‡;
Sunbeams sent down to prop one friar's staff§,
And hell broke loose to make another laugh||;
Obedient fleas ¶, and superstitious mice **;
Confessing wolves††, and sanctifying lice ‡‡;
Letters and houses by an angel carried §§;
And, wondrous! virgin nuns to Jesus married |}}}.
One monk, not knowing how to spend his time,
Sits down to find out some unheard-of crime;
Increases the large catalogue of sins,
And where the sober finish, there begins.
Of death eternal his decree is pass'd,
For the first crime as fix'd as for the last.
* St. Dominick, vide Jansenius (Nic).
+ Of our Saviour and others, vide Ferrand.
Of Joseph, vide Molinæum.
St. Cathro's, vide Colganum.
¶ Vide Life of St. Colman, by Colganus.
** The same Life, by the same author.
+ Vide Speculum Vitæ sancti Francisci.
St. Munnu gathered those that dropped from him, and pat them in their place again, vide Act. Sanctorum.
From St. Firman to St. Columba, vide Colganum. Chapel of Loretto.
ili Maria de la Visitation, vide her Life by Lusignam.
While that, as idle and as pious too,
Compounds with false religion for the true;
He, courtly usher to the bless'd abodes,
Weighs all the niceties of forms and modes;
And makes the rugged paths so smooth and even,
- None but an ill bred man can miss of heaven.
One heaven-inspired invents a frock or hood;
The tailor now cuts out, and men grow good.
Another quits his stockings, breeches, shirt,
Because he fancies virtue dwells with dirt:
While all concur to take away the stress
From weightier points, and lay it on the less.
Anxious each paltry relique to preserve
Of him whose hungry friends they leave to starve,
Harass'd by watchings, abstinence, and chains;
Strangers to joys, familiar grown with pains;
To all the means of virtue they attend
With strictest care, and only miss the end.
Can Scripture teach us, or can sense persuade,
That man for such employments e'er was made?
Far be that thought! but let us now relate
A character, as opposite as great,
In him who living gave to Athens fame,
And by his death immortalized her shame.
Great scourge of sophists! he from heaven brought down
And placed true wisdom on the' usurper's throne:
Philosopher in all things, but pretence;
He taught what they neglected, common sense.
They o'er the stiff Lyceum form'd to rule;
He o'er mankind; all Athens was his school.
The sober tradesman and smart petit-maître,
Great lords and wits, in their own eyes still
greater,
With him grew wise, unknowing they were taught; He spoke like them, though not like them he thought:
Nor wept, nor laugh'd at man's perverted state; But left to women this, to idiots that.
View him with sophists famed for fierce contest,
Or crown'd with roses at the jovial feast;
Insulted by a peevish, noisy wife,
Or at the bar foredoom'd to lose his life;
What moving words flow from his artless tongue,
Sublime with ease, with condescension strong!
Yet scorn'd to flatter vice, or virtue blame;
Nor changed to please, but pleased because the
The same by friends caress'd, by foes withstood,
Still unaffected, cheerful, mild, and good.
Behold one pagan, drawn in colours faint,
Outshine ten thousand monks, though each a saint!
Here let us fix our foot, hence take our view,
And learn to try false merit by the true.
We see when reason stagnates in the brain,
The dregs of fancy cloud its purest vein;
But circulation betwixt mind and mind
Extends its course and renders it refined.
When warm with youth we tread the flowery way,
All nature charms, and every scene looks gay;
Each object gratifies each sense in turn,
Whilst now for rattles, now for nymphs we burn;
Enslaved by friendship's or by love's soft smile,
We ne'er suspect because we mean no guile :
Till, flush'd with hope from views of past success,
We lay on some main trifle all our stress;
When lo! the mistress or the friend betrays,
And the whole fancied cheat of life displays:
Stunn'd with an ill that from ourselves arose,
For instinct ruled when reason should have chose,
We fly for comfort to some lonely scene,
Victims henceforth of dirt and drink and spleen.
But let no obstacles that cross our views
Pervert our talents from their destined use;
For, as upon life's hill we upwards press,
Our views will be obstructed less and less.
Be all false delicacy far away,
Lest it from nature lead us quite astray;
And for the imagined vice of human race
Destroy our virtue, or our parts debase;
Since God with reason joins to make us own,
That 'tis not good for man to be alone.
RETIREMENT.
An Epistle to Dr. Hurd.
WHEN on the stage Bays bids the' eclipse advance,
Earth, sun, and moon confounding in the dance;
If critics wisely act, who damn the fool
Outraging nature and transgressing rule;
How in the world's mad dance shall we forbear
The serious censure or contemptuous sneer?
When every age and every rank is found
Treading a like absurd, unnatural round;
A round that rules not only forms of state,
But governs all the affairs of all the great.
Look o'er the military list, you'll find
The supple coward, whose ignoble mind
With slavish sufferance joins the favourite's side,
Watching his smiles, and bending to his pride,
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