Heard at conventicle, where worthy men, Misled by custom, ftrain celeftial themes Through the preft noftril, fpectacle-bestriḍ. Some, decent in demeanor while they preach, That task perform'd, relapse into themselves, And having spoken wifely, at the close
Grow wanton, and give proof to ev'ry eye- Whoe'er was edified, themselves were not. Forth comes the pocket mirror. First we stroke An eye-brow; next, compose a straggling lock; Then with an air, moft gracefully perform'd, Fall back into our feat, extend an arm, And lay it at its eafe with gentle care, With handkerchief in hand, depending low. The better hand more bufy, gives the nose Its bergamot, or aids th' indebted eye With op'ra glafs to watch the moving scene, And recognize the flow-retiring fair.
Now this is fulfome; and offends me more Than in a churchman flovenly neglect
And ruftic coarseness would. An heav'nly mind
May be indiff'rent to her house of clay,
And flight the hovel as beneath her care; But how a body so fantastic, trim,
And queint in its deportment and attire, Can lodge an heav'nly mind-demands a doubt.
He that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambaffador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, fhould beware Of lightness in his fpeech. 'Tis pitiful To court a grin, when you should woo a foul; To break a jeft, when pity would inspire
Pathetic exhortation; and t' addrefs
The skittish fancy with facetious tales,
When fent with God's commiffion to the heart.
So did not Paul. Direct me to a quip
Or merry turn in all he ever wrote,
And I confent you take it for your text, Your only one, till fides and benches fail.
No: he was ferious in a ferious cause,
And understood too well the weighty terms
That he had ta'en in charge. He would not stoop To conquer thofe by jocular exploits,
Whom truth and soberness affail'd in vain.
Oh, popular applaufe! what heart of man Is proof against thy fweet feducing charms? The wifeft and the best feel urgent need Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales;
But fwell'd into a guft-who then, alas! With all his canvafs fet, and inexpert,
And therefore heedlefs, can withstand thy power? Praise from the rivel'd lips of toothless, bald Decrepitude; and in the looks of lean
And craving poverty; and in the bow Refpectful of the fmutch'd artificer,
Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb The bias of the purpose. How much more Pour'd forth by beauty fplendid and polite,
In language foft as adoration breathes ? Ah fpare your idol! think him human still. Charms he may have, but he has frailties too, Doat not too much, nor fpoil what ye admire.
All truth is from the fempiternal fource Of light divine. But Egypt, Greece, and Rome, Drew from the ftream below. More favor'd, we Drink, when we chufe it, at the fountain head. To them it flow'd much mingled and defil'd With hurtful error, prejudice, and dreams Illufive of philofophy, fo call'd,
But falfely. Sages after fages ftrove, In vain, to filter off a chryftal draught
Pure from the lees, which often more enhanc'd
The thirst than flak'd it, and not feldom bred Intoxication and delirium wild.
In vain they pufh'd enquiry to the birth
And spring-time of the world; afk'd, whence is man? Why form'd at all? And wherefore as he is?
Where must he find his Maker? With what rites
Adore him? Will he hear, accept, and bless?
Or does he fit regardless of his works? Has man within him an immortal feed?
Or does the tomb take all? If he furvive
His afhes, where? and in what weal or woe? Knots worthy of solution, which alone
A Deity could folve. Their answers vague, And all at random, fabulous and dark,
Left them as dark themselves. Their rules of life Defective and unfanction'd, prov'd too weak
To bind the roving appetite, and lead Blind nature to a God not yet reveal d. 'Tis Revelation fatisfies all doubts, Explains all mysteries, except her own, And fo illuminates the path of life, That fools discover it, and stray no more. Now tell me, dignified and fapient fir, My man of morals, nurtur'd in the shades
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