Through the prest noftril, spectacle-bestrid.
Some, decent in demeanour while they preach,
That task perform'd, relapfe into themselves;
And, having spoken wifely, at the close
Grow wanton, and give proof to every 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 ease 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 glass, 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 fo fantastic, trim,
And quaint, in its deportment and attire,
Can lodge an heav'nly mind-demands a doubt.
He that negociates between God and man,
As God's ambaffador, the grand concerns
Of judgment and of mercy, should 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 infpire
Pathetic exhortation; and t' addrefs
The fkittish fancy with facetious tales,
When fent with God's commiflion 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 serious 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 fobernefs 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 their gentleft gales;
But, fwell'd into a guft-who then, alas!
With all his canvafs fet, and inexpert,
And therefore heedlefs, can withstand thy pow'r ?
Praise from the rivel'd lips of toothlefs, 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 purpofe. 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!
Dote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire.
All truth is from the fempiternal fource
Of light divine. But Egypt, Greece, and Rome,
Drew from the ftream below. More favour'd, we
Drink, when we choose 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 cryftal draught
Pure from the lees, which often more enhanc'd
The thirft than flak'd it, and not feldom bred
Intoxication and delirium wild.
In vain they push'd inquiry to the birth
And fpring-time of the world; afk'd, Whence is man?
Why form'd at all? and wherefore as he is?
Where muft 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 unsanction'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 difcover it, and ftray no more.
Now tell me, dignified and sapient fir,
My man of morals, nurtur'd in the shades
Of Academus-is this falfe or true?
Is Chrift the abler teacher, or the schools?
If Chrift, then why refort at ev'ry turn
To Athens or to Rome, for wisdom short
Of man's occafions, when in him refide
Grace, knowledge, comfort-an unfathom'd store ?
How oft, when Paul has fery'd us with a text,
Has Epictetus, Plato, Tully, preach'd!
Men that, if now alive, would fit content
And humble learners of a Saviour's worth,
Preach it who might. Such was their love of truth,
Their thirst of knowledge, and their candour too!
And thus it is.-The paftor, either vain
By nature, or by flatt'ry made so, taught
To gaze at his own splendour, and t'exalt
Abfurdly, not his office, but himself;
Or unenlighten'd, and too proud to learn;
Or vicious, and not therefore apt to teach;
Perverting often, by the stress of lewd
And loose example, whom he should inftruct;
Exposes, and holds up to broad difgrace,
The noblest function, and difcredits much
The brightest truths that man, has ever seen.
For ghoftly counsel; if it either fall
Below the exigence, or be not back'd
With show of love, at least with hopeful proof
Of fome fincerity on th' giver's part;
Or be dishonour'd, in th' exterior form
And mode of its conveyance, by such tricks
As move derifion, or by foppish airs
And hiftrionic mumm'ry, that let down
The pulpit to the level of the stage;
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