By him, the violated law fpeaks out
Its thunders, and by him, in strains as sweet
As angels ufe, the gospel whispers peace.
He stablishes the strong, reftores the weak,
Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart,
And, arm'd himself in panoply complete
Of heav'nly temper, furnishes with arms
Bright as his own, and trains, by ev'ry rule
Of holy discipline, to glorious war,
The facramental hoft of God's elect.
Are all fuch teachers? would to heav'n all were!
But hark-the Doctor's voice-faft wedg'd between
Two empirics he stands, and with fwoln cheeks
Inspires the news, his trumpet. Keener far
Than all invective is his bold harrangue,
While through that public organ of report
He hails the clergy; and defying fhame,
Announces to the world his own and theirs.
He teaches those to read, whom schools dismiss'd, '
And colleges untaught; fells accent, tone,
And emphasis in score, and gives to pray'r
Th' adagio and andante it demands.
He grinds divinity of other days
Down into modern ufe; transforms old print
To zig-zag manufcript, and cheats the eyes
Of gall'ry critics by a thousand arts.-
Are there who purchase of the Doctor's ware?
Oh name it not in Gath!-it cannot be,
That grave and learned Clerks fhould need fuch aid.
He doubtless is in fport, and does but droll,
Affuming thus a rank unknown before,
Grand--caterer and dry-nurfe of the church.
I venerate the man, whose heart is warm,
Whofe hands are pure, whofe doctrine and whofe life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honeft in the facred caufe.
To fuch I render more than mere refpect,
Whofe actions fay that they respect themselves.
But loofe in morals, and in manners vain,
In converfation frivolous, in drefs
Extreme, at once rapacious and profuse,
Frequent in park, with lady at his fide,
Ambling and prattling scandal as he goes,
But rare at home, and never at his books,
Or with his pen, save when he scrawls a card;
Constant at routs, familiar with a round
Of ladyships, a stranger to the poor;
Ambitious of preferment for its gold,
And well prepar'd by ignorance and floth,
By infidelity and love of world,
To make God's work a finecure; a flave
To his own pleasures and his patron's pride.-
From fuch apostles, oh, ye mitred heads,
Preferve the church! and lay not careless hands
On fculls that cannot teach, and will not learn.
Would I defcribe a preacher, fuch as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, Paul fhould himself direct me. I would trace
His master-strokes, and draw from his design.
I would express him fimple, grave, fincere ;
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain;
And plain in manner. Decent, folemn, chaste,
And natural in gefture. Much imprefs'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
Affectionate in look,
And tender in addrefs, as well becomes
A meffenger of grace to guilty men,
Behold the picture !-Is it like ?-Like whom?
The things that mount the roftrum with a skip,
And then skip down again; pronounce a text,
Cry, hem; and reading, what they never wrote,
Juft fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene,
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that minifters
And ferves the altar, in my foul I loath
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect fçorn ;
Object of my implacable disgust,
What!-will a man play tricks, will he indulge
A filly fond conceit of his fair form
And just proportion, fashionable mien,
pretty face, in presence of his God?
Or will he feek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the di'mond on his lily hand,
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames
His noble office, and, instead of truth,
Difplaying his own beauty, ftarves his flock,
Therefore, avaunt! all attitude and stare,
And start theatric, practifed at the glass,
I feek divine fimplicity in him
Who handles things divine; and all befide,
Though learn'd with labor, and though much admir'd
By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform'd,
To me is odious as the nafal twang
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