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 wept †,
And breath a thousand years in phials kept‡;
Sunbeams sent down to prop one friar's staffs,
And hell broke loose to make another laugh||;
Obedient fleas T, 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 Jansenins (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 put them in their place again, vide Act. Sanctorum.
From St. Firman to St. Columba, vide Colganum. Chapel of Loretto.
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
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
same;
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,
Rise o'er the brave man's head, and snatch the place His scorn'd but modest worth was form'd to grace. Nay, when we groan distemper'd with our pain, And the fierce fever boils in every vein,
Proud to the very confines of the grave,
By the long wig we judge the skill to save.
Or what avails in Warburton to find
The power of genius, soul of science join'd?
The sacred mitre dignifies his brows
Who lowest to the unletter'd courtier bows.
Too just to flatter, and too brave to lie,
From such a world the sons of Virtue fly:
Yet, bless'd with innocence, how few can find
What to supply the mighty void of mind!
Becalm'd, and wanting oars, they ask the gale
Of others' breath to swell the flagging sail;
Or, without pilot their light bark to guide,
Float at the mercy of each varying tide.
O, teach us, for you know, to be alone,
And all the' advantage of retirement own!
Let us that greatest blessing learn of you,
To view ourselves, nor tremble at the view.
And let me bless you; for your friendly care
Removed me from the world, and placed me here;
And taught me, in the boiling heat of youth,
To hear the voice of reason and of truth;
Willing your friend that happiness should find
Which gilds your shades and calms your spotless
mind.
From the reflections these calm scenes allow, Much of myself and of the world I know; I know that liberty, man's greatest boast, Is in the chase of wild ambition lost; Enslaved to all the vanities of state, The passions and the follies of the great.
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