A PARISH prieft was of the pilgrim train ;
An awful, reverend, and religious man,
His diffus'd a venerable grace,
And charity itself was in his face.
Rich was his foul, though his attire was poor; 5
(As God had cloth'd his own ambassador ;)
For fuch, on earth, his blefs'd Redeemer bore.
Of fixty years he feem'd ; and well might last
To fixty more, but that he liv'd too fast;
Refin'd himself to foul, to curb the sense;
And made almost a fin of abftinence.
Yet, had his afpect nothing of fevere,
But fuch a face as promis'd him fincere.
Nothing referv'd or fullen was to see :
But sweet regards; and pleasing fanctity: 15
Mild was his accent, and his action free.
With eloquence innate his tongue was arm'd; Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher charm'd.
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
(A mufic more melodious than the spheres.)
For David left him, when he went to reft,
His lyre; and after him he sung the best.
He bore his great commiffion in his look:
But fweetly temper'd awe; and soften'd all he
'He preach'd the joys of heaven, and pains of
And warn'd the finner with becoming zeal;
But on eternal mercy lov'd to dwell.
He taught the gospel rather than the law;
And forc'd himself to drive; but lov'd to draw.
For fear but freezes minds: but love, like heat,
Exhales the foul fublime, to feek her native
feat.
Ver. 19. For letting down the golden chain from high,
He drew his audience upward to the Sky:]
An evident allufion to the allegory of the golden chain in the exordium of Homer's eighth book of the Iliad, which Pope, with a penetration, which is commended by the acute Dr. Clarke, explains as defcriptive of the fuperior attractive force of the fun, whereby he continues unmoved, and draws all the reft of the planets towards him.. JOHN WARTon.
To threats the ftubborn finner oft is hard, Wrapp'd in his crimes, against the storm par'd ;
But, when the milder beams of mercy play,
He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away.
Lightning and thunder (heaven's artillery)
As harbingers before the Almighty fly:
Those but proclaim his ftile, and disappear;
The ftiller found fucceeds, and God is there.
The tithes, his parish freely paid, he took;
But never fu'd, or curs'd with bell and book.
With patience bearing wrong; but offering
Since every man is free to lofe his own. The country churls, according to their kind, (Who grudge their dues, and love to be be hind,)
Ver. 34-37.] Sol quondam et Aquilo, uter foret valentior,
Delitigabant: domum iter qui carperet,
Hominem videntes: in eum vires, inquiunt,
Viciffim noftras experiri quid vetat ?
Scifcunt, ut, ipfi pallium qui excufferit,
Is jure merito fefe victorem ferat.
Tum primus Aquilo flatibus horrifonis furit :
At fe viator contra vim venti arctius
Involvit ergo, poftquam profecit nihil
Aquilo, calentein Sol emolitur facem,
Senfimque radios infinuando per cutem
Viatoris agit. Ille mox exæstuat;
Mox et gravi humeros pallio fponte exuit.
Vim vi repellunt homines plerumque; aft eos,
Quo vult, volentes pertrahit benignitas.
Fab. Efop. Defb. Fab. 1. lib. iii.
JOHN WARTON.
The lefs he fought his offerings, pinch'd the
And prais'd a prieft contented to be poor.
Yet of his little he had fome to fpare,
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 fee.
True priests, he said, and preachers of the word,
Were only stewards of their fovereign Lord; 55
Nothing was their's; but all the public store :
Intrusted riches, to relieve the poor.
Who, fhould they steal, for want of his relief,
He judg'd himself accomplice with the thief.
Wide was his parish; not contracted clofe 60
In streets, but here and there a firaggling house;
Yet ftill he was at hand, without request,
To ferve the fick; to fuccour the diftrefs'd:
Tempting, on foot, alone, without affright,
The dangers of a dark tempeftuous night.
All this, the good old man perform'd alone, Nor fpar'd his pains; for curate he had none. Nor durft 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 finecures are fold. But duly watch'd his flock, by night and day;) And from the prowling wolf redeemed the
And hungry fent the wily fox away.
The proud he tam'd, the penitent he chear'd: Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd. His preaching much, but more his practice wrought;
(A living fermon of the truths he taught ;) For this by rules fevere his life he squar❜d: That all might fee the doctrine which they
For priefts, he faid, are patterns for the rest:
(The gold of heaven, who bear the God im-
prefs'd :)
But when the precious coin is kept unclean,
The fovereign's image is no longer feen.
If they be foul on whom the people truft,
Well may the bafer brafs contract a ruft.
The prelate, for his holy life he priz'd;
The wordly pomp of prelacy defpis'd,
His Saviour came not with a gaudy show;
Nor was his kingdom of the world below.
Patience in want, and poverty of mind,
Thefe marks of Church and Churchmen he
defign'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 fons, but those of Zebedee.
Not but he knew the figns of earthly power Might well become Saint Peter's fucceffor;
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