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IIELI^OIAI JVVENILES : M I S C E L L A N E O U S J--

THOUGHTS

(^£) P R o s E and V e r s e,

O N

NaturaL Moral, and 'Droifie

SUBJECTS;

Writcen chicrly in Younger Years.

By r. WATTS, D. D.

Et jiuunda fitnul iff idonea dicere Vita. H o r.

LONDON: {^^[^ [

Priiited for Richard Ford at thc J/Jgc!., and R I c H A R D H £ T T at tlic Bibk and Cniun) k>th \i\ tlie PQuhry, M DCC xxxiv.

sx

SQOO

T O T H E RlGHT HONOURABLE thc

Cotwtejs of Hartforde

BegLeave.MA- D A M, to flattef my Self, that the fame Con- defcenfion and Goodnefs which has admit- ted feveral of thefe Pieces A 2 into

i V D E D I CAT I O N.

into your Clofet in Manii- knpt, Avill perniit them all to make this publickAp- pearance before You. Your Lady fliip s known Charac- ter and ' fafte f or every t hing thatisPiousandPolite, give an honourable Sandion to thofe Writings which fland Recommended by Your Name and Approbation; 'tis no Wonder then that thefe E s sAY s flould fcek the Fa- vour of fuch a Patrcnagc.

T H o' the Author profef- fesh*mielf much a Stranger to the great and fplerdid

Part

Dedication. V

VaTt of Mankind, yet fmce your Ladyf bip was pleafed to induli<;e him a Sliare in the Hcnours of j^our Friend- iiiip^ he cannot but take Plealure to have been a WiLneis of thole Virtues, Avfiereby You bear up the Lignity of our holy Rdi- mon and the bleiled Gof- pdy m'id-1 dl the temntinp" Grandeurs of this Worla, and in an Age of growing InfideJity. He acknowled- ges it a Part of his Felicity, that he has had Opportuni- ty to learn how happily the A 3 Lei-

vi Dedication.

Leifure which you borrow from the Magnificence and Ceremonies of a Court is employ'd in devout Con- templationsj in the Study of Virtue, and among the Writings of the beft roets in our own, or in foreign Languages, fo far as they are challe and innocent.

BuT 'tis no eafy Task, as a late ingenious Pen ^ has exprefs^d it, to fpeak the many namelefs Graces and nathe Riches of a Mind, ca-

* Mr. T H O M S O N, /« /Z?^ D E D I C A T I O N

of his P o E M on the S p r i n g.

pable

D E D I CAT I O N. VU

pable fo much at once to Ye- lifh Solitude and adorn So- ciety.

MAYfuch a valuableLife be drawn out to an uncom- mon Length:, as the richell: of Bleffings to your noble Family ! May You fliine long in your exalted Sta- tion an iUuftrious Pattern of fuch Goodnefsj as may command a Reverencc and Imitation among thofe who jRand round You in higher or lower Life ! And when your Spirit fiiall take its Flight to fuperior Regions A 4 and

Viii Dedication.

and that blifsful World, whither your Mcditation and your Hope have often laircd You, may the Couit oiGrcat Brltain never want Succeilors in your honour- able Houfe to adorn and fupport it. In the Sinceri- ty of thefe Wiflies, I take i -iiveto fLibfcribe myiel±!,

M A D A Ivf ,

Tour Ladyjljips mojl Ohedient, Himhle Sewanty

I. Watts.

T ri E

PREFAC

<^<7^^^;^^^E'%jyg g every Man l;as ibnie Amur<?- nicr.t'. icr m\ Hour nf l.£;r.u-e, I ]ia\e clioicn MatkcnhUiidl Sd" ence, Pkilofcphy and Pcejy, for mine ; and the Fruits of fome of thofe Hours have been com- municated to the VVorld. I ac- knowledge my Obligation to the prefent Age, which has given a favourable Accep- tance to the Lyrick Pcems printed in my Youth, the plam Rudiments of Geography aud Ajlrcncmy^ and the Treatife of Logick, publifhed fome Years ago, and to thofe fcattered E[Jbys of Philofophy wJiich I put togethcr

hifl

X r;^^PREFACE.

laft Year. Thcfe Gleanings of Verfe, and occafional Thoughts cn Mifcellaneous SulJeSfs^ which Iiave been growing under my Hands for Thirty Years, arc now coIIe<5ted for a Prefent to the Publick, under the En- Gouragement it has given me to expedl the fame Candour.

T H A T the Compofure of Verfe is not beneath the Dignity even of fublime and facred Charadlers, ap- pears in the Example of Dcwid the Prophet and the King ; to vvhich, if I Ihould add Mofes and Sohmon^ it v/ould ftill ftrengthen the Argument, and fupport the Honour of this Art : And how far Poefy has been made ferviceable to the Temple and the Intereft of Religion, has been fet in a fufficient Light by feveral Pens; nor need I repeat here what is written in the Preface to my Book of Poems on that Subjecft. But I muft confefs it needs fome Apology, that when I had told the World Twenty-five Years ago that I expec- ted the future Part of my Life would be free from the Service of the Mufe, I (hould now difcover my Wcak- nefs, and let the World know that I have not beeji able to maintain my Purpofe.

I T is true iiideed, fome of thefe Copies were written before that Time, yet a great Part of them muft date their Exiftence fmce ; for wiiere Nature has a ftrong Propenfity even from our Infant-Life, it

wilL

The PREFACE. xi

will awake and ftiew itfelf on many Occafions, tho' it has been often and fincerely refifted, and fubdued, and laid to fleep. And as I have found my Thoughts many a time carricd away into four or five Lines of Verfe e're I was aware, and fometimes in oppofition to my Will, fo I confefs I have now and then indul- ged it for an Hour or two, as an innocent and grate- ful Diverfion from more fevere Studies. In this View I ofFer it X.Q my Friends ; and amongfl: the many Pieces hereii: contain'd, I hope there are fome which will give them an agreeable Amufement, and perhaps fome Elevation of Thought towaids the Things of Heaven. But in order to tafte any degrce of Plea- fure, or rcap any Profit by the Reading, I muft in- treat them ilncerely to feek the Entertainment of their Hearts, as in the Converfation of a Friend ; and not to hunt after the painful and aukward Joys of fou? Criticifm, which is ever bufy in feeking out fomething to difguft itfelf.

I M A K E no Pretences to the Name of a Poet, or a polite Writer, in an Age wherein fo many fuperior Souls fhine in their Works through this Nation. Could I difplay the Excellencies of Virtue and Chri- ftian Piety in the various Form^ and Appearances of it, with all the Beauty and Glory in which Mr. Pope lias fet the Kingdom of the Mejfiah by his well-ming- lcd Imitittions oi Ifaiab and Virgil; could I paint Na- ture and the animated Wonders of it in fuch ftrong

and

xii The P*REFAC£.

and Ijvely Colours as Dr. Toiutg has done; coulJ I dcfcribe its lovcly and dreadful Scenes in Lrnes of fuch Sweetnefs and Terror, as he has defcribed thcm" in hisParaphrafe on Part of the Book of Jcb-, I fnoulJ liave a bettcr Ground for a Pretence to appear among the Writers of Verfe, and do more Service to the WorU. Could I imitate thofe admirablc Reprcfenta- tic-ns of Human Nature and Paffion vvhich that in^;e- nious Pen has given us, who v.Tote the latc Volumes oi Efiijik', from ihe Decd to tke Lhifig, and Letias Moral and Eniertclnwg^ I fhould thcn hope for happicr Suc- cefs in my P.ndeavours to provide innocent and iin- proving Diverfions for politc Youth. Bat fmce I can boaft of little more than an Inclination and a Wifh that AVay, I nuift commit the Provifion of thefe Amufe- nicnts to fuch celebrated Authors as I havc now men- tloncJ, ^v.i tj thc vAnz G-.-nius^s cf thc Afr- ; Antt may tlie Honoiir ci TcdV le rctrlcve'' by tlxm, ii;nj the Scandal vi^hich has been caft upon it by the Abufe of Verfe to loofe and proian; Purpofes.

I F tbere are any of thefe Pieces which may feem to carry in them fomething too youthful and trivi?!, I entreat my Friends to remember, 'tis a Colledtion of fuch Comipofitions of thia Kind from my early Years as I have found among my Papers ; and if I had ne- ver publifhed them myfelf, I fear it would have been done fomc time or other by Perfons into whofe Hands

they

rhe PREFACE. xiii

they might have bcen dirperfcd ; and then the niany mingled Blundcrs, which alwavs arife from frequent Tranfcriptions, - v/ould ha\e" utterly difgulted the Readcr, as weil as brouglu a double Difgrace upon the Writer.

'T I s impofnble for ihe niceft and mofl: corrccl: Pc;: to avoid the offcnce of thofc Rcaders who carry an Ex - cefs of Deh'cacy always about them, much lefs do I expc(5t it here : Nor is it v/ithiii the Povvcrofany Man who writes, to efcape the Ccnfure of thofc whofc Minds arc fo fuU of vile and unclcanly Imagcs, that they will impofe their own difhoned and impure Ideas upon Words of tJie mofl: difiant and innoccnt Sound, Every low and mahcious Wit may turn even facrcd Language to vvicked and abominable Purpofes, and qlap a Sett of pcrverfe Idcas cn the pureft Diction, Wliqre ncith.tr a David nor a Poul neither Prophets nor Evangehfts are fafe, no human Writer fliould expeft an Exemption ; but thc Crime is Ttill in him that conftrues, and not in him that writes. If Oleo finds an ill Savour in every Place where he comcs, I fufpccl tliat he has fome foul Ul- ccr about him ; and when I hear Flavinm tell me on a Snowy Day, that the Ground looks yellow, I may venture to pronounce that Flavinus has the Jaun- dicc.

As

xiv r^^PREFACE.

As for the Charadlers which are found here in fome of the EJJays^ I profefs folemnly there is not one of the vicious or foolifh kind that is defign'd to repre- fent any particular Perfon. I never thought it pro- per to have Mankind treated in that manner, unlefs upon fome very peculiar and extraordinary Occafions, and then I would leave the unpleafing Work to other Hands. It has been the Aim and Defign of my Life, in my Hours of Leifure, as well as my Seafons of Bufmefs, to do what Service I could to my Fellow- Creatures, without giving Oftence. I would not willingly create needlefs Pain or Uneafmefs to the moft defpicable Figure amongft Mankind. There are Vexations enough diftributed among the Beings of my Species, without my adding to the Heap : And yet I confefs I have often attempted to hit the fore Part in general ; but 'tis with this fmcere Intent, that the Wife and Thoughtful, whofoever they are, may feel their Difeafe and be healed, — My Readers may be aiTured therefore, that tho' the Vices and the Follies which are here difplay'd may appear to be as juft and fmcere a Reprefentation as if they were all borrowed from Life, yet there are not Fea- tures enough to defcribe any Perfon living. When a reflefting Glafs fliews the Deformities of a Face fo plain as to point to the Perfon, he will fooner be tempted to break the Glafs, than to reform his

Blemifhes.

The PREFACE. xv

Blemifhes. But if I can find any Error of my own happily defcribed in fome general Charafler, I am then awakenM to reform it in Silence, with- out the publick Notice of the World j and the Moral Writer attains his nobleft End.

My particular Friends, to whom I have fent any of thefe Piecesj will generally be pleafed to read them in Print, and addrefs'd to a feigned Name, rather than their own : This I found the fafeft Way to avoid Offence on all Hands, and there- fore I have not mentioned one proper Name herc, but what was in Print before.

Im the Difpofition of thefe Pieces, I pfetend to no Order, but only aimed to diverfify every Sheet of the CoIIeiftion with Verfe and Profe. In a Nofegay or a Flower-Piece, no Man expe£ts an cxacl Regularity of Situation among the Parts that compofe it : 'Tis fufficient if the Colours and Fragrance entertain the Senfes with a grateful Con- fufion.

I PRESUME no Body will expeft in fuch a Book an Entrance into deep Arguments upon dif- ficult Subjedls of any kind whatfoever. The De- iign is to pleafe and profit every gentle Reader, without giving Pain and Fatigue to the Mind. If

any

XVI

Jbe PREFACE.

any tliing hcrc Vv'rittcn may inJace Strangcrs to take up lo good an Opinion of the Writer as to, pcrure any ot bis other Works, it is his hearty Defire and Praycr, that they may lind abui-wJant Compcnfation in their ov/n Imf rovements in Know- lcdgc, Virtue or Piety, and may thereby grow fitter for the heavenly World ; to which impor- tant and happy End all our Labours h.ere on Earth fhould confpire, and cven our Ami;fements, whe- thcr wc read or write. A?ncn.

N z w I K G T o N', March 25. 173+.

4^

T H E

T H E

T A B L E

I. ;^^^^, EJR CHING after God, Page i

II. Roman Idolatry^ p. 6

III. 71? Dorio. Theftrfl Lytick How^ p. 9

IV. Tnc Hcbrew Fcet.

V. T/)^ Thankful Phikfopher,

VI. T}:e PrafeofGod,

VII. ^ Meditiition for the Ftrfl of M?.y,

VIII. Divine Goodnefi in th: Creation^

IX. 77?^ /7jr^i Co72cert of Praife,

X. TT^if World aStranger to God, .XI. Ptirgatory,

XII. T;3? 7>/;?pZ? e^ //'^ Sun,

XIII. y/ Midnight Ekvation^

XIV. TT-i- Honourahle Magijirate^

XV. A Uffon of Humility,

XVI. TheJVa/ieofLife,

XVII. The Table'blefs\i,

XVIII. r^w//, ^«i z)^tfr/^,

XIX. Babylon defir^yd^ or the phrafed^

XX. Epitaph on Bigotry, tranflated frorn theLatin

XXI. 7"/'^ Death ofL^nzzTiiiiy

XXII. Jn Hymn to Jefus, the Eternal Life, XXm. D>fantT/mnder, XXIV. Da\\^' i Lamentation mr Saul WJonathan,p.9^

XX

th Pfalm

P P P P- P- P- P- P- P- p. P- P- P- P- P-

• '9 , 2b'

36

39

40

52

57 6^ 69

paru-

P- 73 P. 77 p. 88

P- 9^ p. 91

xviii Tbe Ta ble.

XXV. TheSkekton, p. i6c

XXV I. IFo.idi ivithout Spirit, V' ^'^?> XX VH. The Church-rani^ p. 107

XXVIII. To a Paititer rejhring an old Piffure, p. 109

XXIX. On theSight cf ^eenMzxy, 1694, p. 1 1 1

XXX. On the Effigies cf George Pri?ice of Den- mark, P- i »4

XXXI. To Velina, cn the Death of feveral young Chil- di enj

XXXII. Earth, Hcaven, and Hell,

XXXIII. A Hornefs Neji dcftrofd,

XXXIV. Citations and Infcriptivis^

XXXV. Againft Lewdnefs,

XXXVI. A^ainjl Drunkennefs,

XXXVII. Vanity confeffd,

XXXVIII. Paffion and Reafon,

XXXIX. One Dcvil cafting out another^ XL, Excellencies and Defeols compenfated^ XLI. Envy dijcover^d, XLII. The rcugh Manfoften^d, XLIII. Ignorance ofowfelves, XLIV. Abfence from God, tuho is our Ail^ XLV. Eormality and Superftition^ XLVI. Coiuardije and Sdf-Love, XLVII. Sicknefs and Recovery^

I. The Hurry ofthe Spirits in a Fever,

z . Peace ofCcnJcience and Prayer for Healthy p.

3. Encourag^d to hope for Health

December, 171 2.

4. The wcarijome IFeeks 0/ Sicknefs,

5. A Hymn of Praife for Recovery, XLVIII. The Deift and the Chrijiian, XLIX. Tre Mifhief of Difputes md Dedamations on .

Religious Ccntrovetf.es y p. 187

u

p-	115
p-	118
p-	12.0
p-	123.^
p-	1 zg'.
p-	131 '■'
p-	133
p-	140
p-	143
p-	145
p-	148"
p-	153
p-	155
p- p-	»59 164 1.68
P-	171
P-	I7Z
f//^,p.i74 in May,
P- '77 -1712 and'
P'	, 180
P-	181
P-	184

The T A B L E. xix

L. Ldbour ajid Paticnce in injlru^ing Mmkiiid^ p. i g^ LI. PuhUck DifputationSy p. 199

LII. Droctional Writings. p. 202

LIII, An Elcgy on Sophronia, P- 214

LI V. An Ekgy on Mrs. Bury, P- 2 1 7

LV. An Elegiac Ode at tke Dcath cf Sir T'liomas

Abney, p. 221

LVI, Entrance upon the JVcrld, P- 232

LVII. Sotds in Fetters, p. 240

LVIII. ^«? Lucius, on the Death of ^Qvtn:i ; Fivc Odes

on De.ith and Fleai^en^ p. 24:3'

1 . The Spirit's Farewel to the Body after a long

Sicknefs^ p. 246

2. The Departing Moment, cr A>fent from the

Body, P- 247

3. Entrance into Paradife, cr Prcfent with the

Lord^ p. 248

4. The Sight of God in Heaveu^ p. 249^

5 . A Funeral Ode at the Interrment of the Body^

fuppofed to befung hy the Mourners^ p. 250 LIX. Di-J.ne Condu^ difputed and jufifitd, P- 251

LX. Sinful Anger for God's Sake^ p, 258

LXI. The Coronation of their Majeflies King Gcor^^^e the Second, and ^een Caroiine, Odlober 1 1 , ^T^7-> p. 265

LXII. A LoyalWifh^ borrow'dfrom?{a.\. ixz^ p. 270 LXIII. Piety in a Court, P- 271

LXIV. The Courtesus andthe Peevifl^^ P- 277

[ LXI V. ] Commcn Ocairrences inoraliz^dy P- 2 85

LXV. Fragments ofVcrfe., p. 289

1 . Preface to a Lctter^ ibjd.

2. The Sunin Edipfe^ p. 290

3. On our Blefftd Saviour, -p. 292 LXVI. Th hfcriptions on fcveral fmall Frcncli Fic-

tures tranfldtedy io\d.

LXVII, Infcriptions on DiaJsy p. 294

LXVIIL

XK The T A B L E;

LXVIII. Infcriptiom onFoiirtrahi^ p. 296

LXIX. EpigramSy p. 298

LXX. Epitaph, p. 301

On Mr. Thomas Pickard, ibid.

On Mr. John May, ibid.

On a near Rehtion., p. 302

On Mr. Samuel Harvev, ibid.

On Mr. Mattliew Qarke, p. 303

On Mr. Edvvard Brodhurrt, p. 306

0« 5ir Ifaac Nevvton, p. 308

LXXI. The Cadence ofVcrfe.^ P- 3^9

LXXII. T}:.e di^ercnt Stops and Cadences cf Blank

Verfe, p. 317 LXXIII. A Dying WorU, and aDurable Heaven^ p. 323

LXXIV. The Rewards ofPoefy, p. 3 28 LXXV. A Moral Argument to prave the Natural hn-

mortaliiy of the Soul^ p. 334

LXXVI. Three Modern Abfurdities^ p. 342

The Reader is defired to corre5l thefefew Mifiaks.

PAge 7. Line 16. tlc^have. p. 16. 1. i. StQjetasand HeathensfirdwithRage. p. 21. 1. 26. near Forty. p 33. ]. 4. Infe£ls. p. 34. 1. 14. n-read. p. 67. 1. 9. cr. p 77. 1. 12. Re/ig.'on^s. p. 83. 1. II. Monkijh Vows. p. 97 1. 21. Dclight. p. 154. 1. z\. fiippling. p. 155. 1. 10 thoufand. p. 157. 1. 12. fpring. p. 161. 1. i. Mifery. p. 172 1. %. Difirejfcs. p. 179. 1. ^fpeed. p. 191. 1. 12. fought p. 223. 1. 27. attach''^. p. 272. 1. 25. Centre. p. 273. 1. 21 blot out (^tf/. p. 300. 1. 6. d^if/tfy. p. 301 . 1. 5. Pichard. p 306- 1.6. divinis. p. 314. 1. 18. P^/». p. 321. 1. 22. for //' read this Rule. p. 344. L 13. <7«^ /i-rf/. p. 347. 1. 12 generally were.

MifceJ/aneous Thoughts^

I N

Prose and Verse,

L

Searching after G o d .

INCE wc find in ourfelvcs that we think and reafon, we fcar and hope, and by an A61 of our Will we can put this. Body of ours into variousForms of Motion, we may boldly pronouncethat we are^ andthat we Tive^ fbr we are confcious of adive Power, and Lifc, and Being. But where 15 the Hand that made us, and that gave us this Life

B and

X Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

and Power ? We know tliat we did not make our- felves in Time paft, bccaufe We cannot pnDmife our- felves a Minute of Time to come : We feel no power within to preferve ourfelves a Moment, nor to refcue or with-hold this Being or tWs Life of ours from tbe fudclen^Demands of Death.

I T is evident yet farther, that we did not-give our- felves tliefe wondrous Properties and Powers which we poffefs i for tho' we are fenfible of many Deficien- cies and.Imperfedtions, yet neither the moft'perfe<3: nor moft defeclive amongft us can add to our prefent Se/f thc leaft new Power or Property. While we are all furrounded with Wants which we cannot fupply, and expofed to Death, which we cannot avoid, "tis a ridiculous Pretence to be our own Makers.

We conclude then with AfTurance, that \ve are tlieWork of fome more powerful and fuperior Hand j but how we cam? firft into Being, w^e know not : The Manner of our originalExiftertce is^hldTrom us in Darknefs : We are neither confcious of our Crea- tion, nor of thePower whicii created us. He made us, but he hid Himfelf from our Eyes and our Ears, and all the Searches of Senfe. He has fent us to dwell in this vifible World amidft an endlcfs Variety of Ima- ges, Figures and Colours, which force therrifelves up- on our Senfes ; but he for ever difclaimsall Image, Co- lour and Figure Himfelf. He hath fet us, who are inferior Spirits, this Task in thefe Regions of Mortal

Flefti,

/// P R o s E attd V E R s%. ^5

'F]e(h, to fearch zndfcel after him, ifhaply ive mayfind ■the ruprema, the infinite and eternal Spirit. We are near a-kin to him, even hii civn Offspring^ but we fee not our Father's Face ; nor can all the Powers of our 'Nature come at the knowledge of him that made us, hut by the Labours and Inferences of our Rcafbn : We toil and work backward to find our Creator > from our prefent Exiftcnce we trace out liis EtcrnitA^, and through thc Chain of a Thoufand vifible Eftecb we fearch out the Firfl, the Invifiblc and Almighty Caufe.

F o R the moft part Indeed, wc arc fo amus^d and engrofi>'d by tlieThings of Senfe, that we forget our jMaker, and are thoughtlefs of -him that gave us Be- ing : or if we fcek and follow after him, 'tis on a cold Scent, and with lazy Enquiries ; and when we fancy we perceive fomething of him, 'tis at a Diflance and in a dusky Twilight : Wc efpy fome faint Beams, fome Glimmerings of his Glory breaking thro' the Works of his Hands ; but he himfelf ftands behind the Vail, and does not fhe%v himfelf in open Light to the Sonsand Daughters of Mortality. Happy Creatures, if wc could make our Way fo near him as to beholcl the lovely and adorable Beauties of his Nature; if we could place our Souls (o direc^ly under his kindeft Influenccs, as to feel ourfelves adore him in the mofL profound Humility, and love him v/ith moft fublime AfFcclion !

B 2 M¥

^ Mtjcellaneous Thoughts,

M y G 0 D, I love and I adore ; But Souls that love would know thee morc. Wilt thou for ever hidc, and ftand JBehind the Labours of thy Hand ? Thy Hand unfeen fuftains the Poles On which this huge Creation rolls : The ftarry Arch proclaims thy Power, Thy Pencil glows in every Flower : In thoufand Shapes and Colours rife Thy painted Wonders to our Eyes ; While Bcafts and Birds with Iab'ring Throats, Teach us a G o d in thoufand Notes. The meaneft Pin in Nature's Frame, Marks out fojne Letter of thy Name. Where Senfe can reach or Fancy rove, From IJill .to Hill, frora Fi.eld to Grove, Acrofs the Waves^ around the Sky, There'snot a Spot,..or Deep, or High, Where the Creator has not trod, And left the Footftep of a G o d.

B u T arc his Footfteps all that we, Poor grovelingWorms, muft know or fee .? Thou Maker of my vital Frame, Unvail thy Face., pronounce thy Name, Shine to my Sight, and let the Ear Which thou haft form'd, thy Language hear. Where is thy Refid.ence ? Oh, why Doft thou avoid jny fearchijig Eye,

My

/« P R 0 s E and V e r s e. $

My longlng Senfe ? Thou Great Unknown, Say, Do the Clouds conceal thy Throne ? Divide, ye Clouds, and let me fee The Power that gives me Leave to Be.

O R art thou all diffusM abroad' Thro' boundlefs Space, a Prefent GoD, Unfeen, unheard, yet ever near ? What fliall I do to find thee here ? Is there not fome my fterious Art To feel thy Prefence at my Heart ? To hear thyWhifpers foft and kind, In holy Silence of the Mind ? Then reft, myThoughtsj nor longer roam In queft of Joy, for Heaven's at home.

BuT, oh, thy Beams of warmeft Love? Sure, they were made forWorlds above. How fhall my Soul her Powers extend^ ^ Beyond whereTime and Nature end, To reach thofe Heights, thy beft Abode, And meet thy kindeft Smiles, my G o D ? What ftiall I do ? I wait thy Call i Pronounce the Word, my Life, my AIJ, Oh for a Wing to bear me far Beyond the golden Morning-Star ! Fain would I trace th' immortal Way, That leads to Courts of endlefs Day, Where the Creator ftands confefs'd, la his own faireft Glories drefs'd.

B j . Somc

$ Mtfiellaneous ThoughtSy

Some {hining Spirit help me rife, Gome waft a Stranger thro' the Skies ; Blefb^d J E s u s, meet me on the Road, Firft Offspring.of th' Eternal GoD, Thy Hand fliall lead a Younger Son, Clothe me with Veflures yet unknown, And place me near my Fat:her's Throne.

}

II.

R O M A N I D O L A T R Y. .

T T !ias been an old Temptatlon to Mankind, al^- moft ever fince Human Nature was made, that we (lefire to ftnd out fomething juft h'k« G.OD. Hehcc arofs a great part of the Idihtry of Aiicient Ages, and of almoll all the Htathen World : Hence the skilful nnd impious Labours of the Stiitmiy and the Painter : HejKe ail th,e. gaudy glittering Images, and all the monflrous Sliapcs tliat poffefs and inhabit theTemjdes of the Gentiks. They wore all defigned to re{->refent the fiiining Glorie^, or tlte a^ive Powers of Divini- tr. The frultful Braih of' the- /V/ and the Prie/i jiave yet farther multiphed rfie Images of Godhead, to make it rijTfeat' like fomething which we cJiiX iecl, heai', or fee, Bi:t io ivhomJJkill ive Uken Gcd? IVith whdt Ulenefi wi1l'yiedmpare me^ fiifh. ihe holy om ef IJrael (■ Ifa. xl. iSf, 25. He is, and "will be for ever, the Great^ lnimita^Ie, and the Inf.jnte Vnhmvn.

A ND

i« FsiOSi. and Verse. 7

An D yet this Folly has not fpent itfelf all in the Meathn World. The Jewi/h Nation was often fond of Idols, and they would more than once have the Figure of Divinity among them ; tho' the Wildernefs •of 57«<7/, in the Days, of ykf^''^j, and theTents oi Dan ■and Btihel in 'Jerobadm'^ Reign, can bear witnefs that it Ioolc'd much more like a Calf than a Gcd. Ifracl too often fell in with tlie reft of the Nations, and changed. the Glory of the WHonup.tible God hrto an Image ?nade lih to. corruptihk Man^ and to Birds and four-foottd Beajis, Qtid creepiug Things.

T H, E ChrijVuin World indeed has much clcarer Light, aiid nphler Difcovefies of the invifibb Natur.e pf Go o ;. and yet bow hasthe ^omiJJj Chuich fallej-i into grofs Idolatry in this refpeiSt, and with profaii^* Attempt have painted n\\. thc BkJ/cd Trimty / What- foever Pretence they may dcrive from tha human Na- ture of the Soa of God, or from the Dove-Iike Ap- pearance of the holy Spirit, to draw the Figures of a Dove or a Man, as. a Memorial of thofe uxcred Con- defcenfions ; yjet I kjiow no fufficient Warrant they can have to ^y i^ ^^'^^ vcry Face of Divine Prohibition, and to paint and car\e the Figure of God the Father like an old Man, when he ncver appeared among Mcji in any bodily Forms.; and our LsrJ Jcfns himfel.f fa^s of him, Te have neither heardhii Fciif ■.:! viy. tiriie., vt^r feen hiiShapcy John v. 37.

B 4 BuT

ti Mtfcetlaneous Thoughts^

B u T this Popijh Church defcends yet to meaner Idolatry ; and becaufe Chriji, who is God manifejf in ihe Flejl)^ reprefents himfelf in a Metaphor, as tkt Breadof Life, to fupport and nourifh our Souls, there- fore they turn their Saviour into a real Piece ofBread: They make a God of Dough, and they devour and they worfliip the Work of the Baker. O fottifli Re- ligion, and ftupid Profeflbrs ! Could we ever have imagin\i that fuch an abjiird Superjliticn, tbat gives the Lye grofly to Senfe and Reafon at once, fliould ever find room in the Belief of Man, in fpight of all his fcnfible and his rational Powers-? Could one have ima- gined, I fay, that fuch a glaring Falfliood, that fliocks^ at once our intelledual and our animal Faculties, fhould be lodged and foftered in the Bofom and Heart of the Sons of jldam ? But Experience here exceeds Imagination. What a fliameful Reproach and Scan- cal is it to human Nature, that a Faith with fo 7nuch Nc*fenfe in it, fliould overfpread whole Nations, and triumph over the largeft Part of the knowing and re- fined World ? But every dawning Day-Iight is a Wit- nefs of thefe National Idolatries, thefe Scandals to Mankind and all their intelleftual Glory» Every Sun that fets or rifes in fome Part or other of the Earthy beholds Multitudes of Fools and Philofophers, Plough- men and Princes, acknowledging the Breaden God, bending the Knee to the Wafer-Cake, and. bowing to- vrards the facred Repofitory of the kneaded Idol.

'TWAS

/« Prose /7«^ Verse. ^

'T w A s the firft Amhition and Iniquity of Man to affecfl a forbidden Lihnefi to God ; there is Infokncs added to the Ambitiony when we bring down Go d to our Leve], and make him a Man^ like ourfelves : But when we fink the Deity beneath our own Nature, when we make a mere Animal or Vegetable of him, and turn him into a bit of fenfelefs Pajle^ the Madnefs of this Impiety muft for ever want a Name,

m:

To DORIO;

The firft Lyrkk Hour,

'X*H E R E*s a Line or two that feem to carry in "*• them I know not what Softnefs and Beauty inthe beginning of that Ode of Cafimire^ where he de- fcribes his firft Attempts on thC' Harp, and his com- mencing a Lyrick Poet.

AMs dormiit in Rofijs^ . Liiiifique jacem ^ violis DieSy

Prima cui potui vigil Sommm Pieria rumpere Barblto'^

B 5 Cura

ip Mlfceltmieotis ThougBsf^.

Curc$ dim vacuusPuer ■ Fsrmofi legerem: Littcr^, N^rvi», ; , .Enf iUo jnihi pofim ;■ : . Bkrent fok dies, &c,

, I H A V £ tried to irnitatie thefe Li;ieSj b^t I caipjaot; fonn th^m mo Englijh Lyrich : 1 have relea^M. rnyfejf froni the F^Eters o/ Rhime, yet I CiyoAOt gain irvy own Approbation. I have given niy Thoughts a further lyoofe, and fpread the Senfe abroad, but I fear tliere is fjimething of the Spirit evaporates; and tho' the e]e-- gant Idea perhaps does not entirely efcape, yet I could wifh for a happier Exprefllon of it. Such as it is, re- - ceive it, Doric, with your ufual Candor, corredl the Deficiencies, and "reftore the Elegance of tiie Polijh- Poet, to thofe fix or feven Hnes wherein I have at- temptcd an Iiiutation,

'Tw A s an unclouded Sky: The Day-Star fat On higheft Noon : No Breezes fann'd the Grove, ■ Nor the Muficians of the Air purfu'd Tiieir artlefe WarWings j while the fultry Day. Lay all difFus'd and flumbring on th^ Bgfom Of the white Lilly, the perfum'd Jonquil, And lovely blufliing Rofe. Then fifft my Harp , Labouring with Qhildifti Innocence and Joy Brake Silence, and awoke the fmiling Hour. With infant Note^, foluting tl)e fair Skies, (^Heaven's higheft Work) the fuir enameird JVfeads,

And

h P^R o s E and V e r s e, li»

Aiid tall green Shades along the winding Banks C)f ^wrygentlv-flGwing-. Thence my Days^ Commenc'd harmonious ; there began ray Skill To vanquilh Care by the fweet-founding String.

Ha I L happy Hour, Q bleft Remenibrance, Hail ! And banifliWoes for ever. Harps were made For Heaven's Beatttudes ; Tfeere y^t''sSon Tunes his bold Lyre with Majefty of Sound, To the Creating ajid All-rulingPower Not unattentive : While ten thoufand Tongucs Of Hymning Seraphs and disbodied Saints, Eccho the' Joys and Graces round the Hills Of Paradife, and fpread Meffiahh Name. Tranfporting Blifs ! Make hafte, ye roIlingSpIieres, Ye circling Suns, ye winged Minutes hafte, Fulfil my deftin'd Peribd here, and raife The meaneft Son of Harmony te join la .thut Celeilial .Confort.

■»wo r ■<

W

'm>^mJ^

IV. n^

12/ Mifcellanems Thoughts^

IV.

The Hebrew Poet.

TO; Ode reprtfenU the Difficulty of a jujl Tranjlation of the Pfalms of David, in dll their Hebrew Glory j luith an Jpologyfor the Imitation of them in Ghriftia» Language,

f Thefirfi Hint borroived from CasimirEj feffxaquifquisy (sff. Book 4. Od. 7.X

I.

C* HEW me the Man that dares andfing» *^ Great Davi^^ Verfe to Britijh Strings : Sublime Attempt ! but bold and vain A$ building ^(^^^/'s Tower again.

n:

The Bard * that climb'd to Cooperh-Hilly. Reaching at Zion^ fham'd his Sk.ill, And bids the Sons of Jlbion own, That JudaVs Pfalmift reigns alone.

* Sir John Denham who:%ain'd great Reputatien by bis foenty calfd Cooper^s-Hill, faiVd in hii Trafi/lation ef the Pfalms ^David,

Blcft

m Prose /2»^ Versb- r^ ni.

Bleft Poet ! now like gentle Thatnes He fooths our Ears with SilverStreams^: Like his own Jordan now he rolls, And fweeps away our captive Souls,-

IV.

Softly the tuneful Shepherd leads The Hebrevj Flocks to flowry Meads !' He marks their Path with Notes divine,. While Fountains fpring withOil andWine,.

V. Rivers of Peace attend his Song^ And draw their Milky Train along :: He Jars ; and Lo, the Flintsare broke, But Honey iflues from the R«ck,

VI.

When kindling with vi(3orious Flre He fhakes his Lance acrofs the Lyre j . TheLyre refounds unknown Alarms,, And fets the Thunderer in Arms,

vn.

Behold the G o D I th' Almighty King, Rides on a Tempeft's glorious Wing j , His Enfigns lighten round the Sky, And moving Legions found on high', .

Tcji

1 4 .; Mifcellanmis Tfmught^^ . •Vlll.

Ten thoufand Cherubswajf hi$ Courfcj Chariors of Fire and fkmlng Horfe :. Earth trembles ; and herMountains fiow, . At his Approach, iike melting Snow;

IX. Biat who thofe Frowtis of Wrath can draw, That ftrike Heayen, Earth, and Hell, withAwe.^ Red Lightning from his Eye-lids broke ; His Voice wus Thunder, Hailj and Smoak,

X.

He fpake ; the cleavLng Wa,ters iled, And Stars beheld the Ocean's Bied :

While the great Mafter ftrikes his Lyrej You fe^.the frightedFloods retire:

XT.

InHeaps the frighted.Billpws ftand, Waiting the Changes- of his Hand : H'e leads his Jfrael thro' the Sea, - And watry Mountalns guard their Waj».-

• XII..

,, ■ ■ ■ -5

Turning his Hand wit]i S^overelgnSweep, '^

He drowns ail ^gypt in the Deep :

Then guides the Tribes, a glorious Band,

Thro' Defarts to the promis'd Land-.

Here

2n Prose^///Verse. i^^

XIII. Herc Camps with wlde imbatterij Forcc, Here Gates and Bulwarks ftop tlieir Courfe : . He llorms the Mounds, the Bulwark falls, . The Harp lies ftrow'd with ruin'd Walls, .

XIV. . See his broad Sword fiies o^er ^he ScringSj And mows down Nat.ions with tljeir Kings : From every Chord his Bolis are liurrd, And Vengeance Imites the rebcl Worldo

XV.

Lo, the great Poet fhilts the Scen?, . Ajid fhews tlie Face of G o d Serene : Truth, Meeknefs, Peace, Salvation ride^ With Guardsof Juftice, athisSide.

xvr..

No meaner Mufe could weave tJie Light, To form his Robes divinely bright, Or framea Crown of Stars to fliine With Beanis of Majefty divine,

x.vn.

Now in prophetick Light he fecs Ages to come, and dark Degrees : He brings rhe Prince of Glory downj-, Stript of his Robe and ftarry Crown,

^6 Mijtellaneous Thoughts^.

XVIII.

See how the Heathen Natlons rage, . See, their combining Powers engage Againft \xC Anointed oi the Lord, The Man whom Angels late ador'^,..

XIX.

God's only Son : Behold, he dies: Surprizing Grief ! The Groans arife, The Lyre complains on every String, And mourns the^Murther of her Xing,

XX.

But Heaven's Anotnted muft not d well In Death : The vanquiih'd Powers of Hcll '' Ycild to the Harp's Diviner Lay ; The Grave refigns th' illuftrious Prey,

XXL

Mejftah lives, Mejftah reigns : The Song furmounts the Airy Plalns, T' attend her Lord with Joys unknown^ And bear the Vi<Sor to his Throne. -

xxir

Rejolce, ye ftiining Worlds on hlgh, Behold the Lord of Glory nigh : Eternal Doors, your Leaves difplay, . To make the Lord of Glory Way,

What

iH Prose <a:;/<!/ V e r s e. 17

XXIIL What mortal Bard has Skill or Force To paint thefe Scenes, to tread this Courfc, Or furnifli thro' th' Ethereal Road A Triumph for a rifing G o d ?

XXIV.

^Artonifti'd at (o vaft a Flight ^ Thro'. flaming Worlds and Floods of Light, *My Mtife lier awful Diftance keeps, Still followingj but witli trembling Steps,

XXV.

She bids her humble Verfe explain The Hebrew Harp's fublimer Strain 3 Points to her Saviour ftill, and ftiows What Courfe the Sua of Glory goes,

XXVL

Here he afcends behind a Cloud

Of Incenfe, * therc he fets in Blood j "t"

She reads his Labours and his Names

In fpicy Smoak, * and Bleeding Lambs. t

XXVIL

Rich are the Graces which fhe draws

From Typcs, and Shades, and Jmijh Laws 5

* Chriji^s ItiterceJftGii, f Uis Sacrifice,

With^

•t® MtfcellaneoHs Thoughts^

With thoufand Glories long foretold Tb turn the future Age to Gold.

xxviir.

Grace Is her Therae, and Joy, and Love : Defcend, ye Bleffings, from above, And crown my Song. Eternal G o d, For2:ive the Mufe that dreads thy Rod,

XXIX.

Silent, flie hears thy Vengeance roll, That crufhes Alortab to the Soul, Nor dares afllime the Bolt, nor flieds Th' immortal Curfes on their Heads,

XXX.

Vet finccher Go d is ftill the fame, And David'^ Son is all her Theme, She begs fome humbk Place to fing In Confort with Judcifs, King.

y. The

tn

Prose andY^v.S'E. 19

A

V.

The Thankful ThHofofhsr. .

A- M O N G all the ufeful and entertainlng Studies oF •^ Philofophy, there is none fo worthy of Man as tJie Science of Human Naturc. . There. is none that furnifties us with more Wonders of divine Wifdom, or gives higher Occafion to adore divine Goodnefs. Chari- fm^ a Gentleman.of great Piety andWorth, has fpent xnany an Hour upoji thls deligKtful Theme. In the midft of hls Mcditatbns onc Day, he was dcbating thus wlth himfejf, aiid enquiri^ig what fort of Being he. v/as. .

Now I ftand, faid he, now I fie dqwn ; I rife again and walk, I eat, drink and fleep; myPulfc beats, and I dravv tlie Breath. of Life : Surely I have. the Parts and Pbwers of ziy j^nmal ; T am a liying Body of Flefh and Blbod, a v/onderfiil Engine, witJTk^ many Varicties of Motion. But let me confijder alfo wliat otlier A6lions I pcrform.

I T H IN K, I meditate and contttYG,.. 1 compare Thlngs and judge of thejn ; now I doubt, and thcn \ belicve ; I will what I acl, and fometimes wifh what

I can-

20 Mifcellaneous Thotights,

I cannot ail : I defire and hope for what I have nofy as well as am confcious of what I have, and rejoyce init : I look backward and furvey Ages paft, and I look forward hito what is to come : Surely I muft be a Spirit, a thinking Power, a Soul, fomething very diftin6l from this Machine of Matter with all it» Shapes and Motion?.

Mere Matter put into all pofllble Motion, can never think, reafon and contrive, can never hopeand wifti, asldo, and furvey diftant Times, the paft and future. Yet 'tis as impofTible alfo that a Mind^ a SouJy fliould walk or lie down, ftiould eat or drink j but I feel,. I know, I am aflured I do all thefe. I perform {bme AcSions that cannot belong to a Spirit, and fome that Flefii and Blood can never pretend to.

W H A T am I then ? What ftrange kind of Be- ing is this, which is confcious of all thefe different Agencies, both of Matter and Spirit ? What fort of Thing can I be, who feem to think and reafon in my Head, who feel and am confcious of Pain or Eafe» not at my Heart only, but at my Toes and Finger& too ? I conclude then, I can be nothing elfe but a Compounded Creature, made up of thefe two diftind Be- ings, Spirit and Matter j or, as we ufually exprefs ity Soul and Body,

'Ti s very plain alfo to me, upon a fmall Enquiry, that this Body and this Soul did not make themfelves,

nor

in Prose and Vek^e. ir

nor one another. But did not I myfelf join thefe two differentNatures together when they were made? Did not my Soul take this Body into Union with it- fclf ? By no means ; for the firft Moment that I knew any thing of myfelf, I found the Powers of Thought working in an Animal Nature ; that is, I found myfelf fuch a Co?npcunded Being as I now am : I had Jio more hand in the Union of thefe two Princi- ples, or in the Compofition of myfelf, than I had in the making of thofe two diftinfl: Beings of which I ara compounded : Tt was G o d only, that great G o D who created both Parts of mc, the Animal and the Mind^ who alfo joined them together in fo ftrange an Union ; and if I were to enter intothe M}'- fteries of this Union, it would open a wide and various Sccne of Amazement at his unfearchable Wif- fclom.

B u T let rae examine a little : Was there no an- cient and early Kindred between this particular Spirit and this Fkjh of mine, this Mind and this Animal ? •Is there no original Relation, no efTential Harmony and fpecial Congruity between my Body and my Soul, that fliould make their Union neceflary ? None at all that 1 can find, either by my Senfeor Refleclion, my Reafon or Experience. Thefe two Beings have dwelt nowThirty Years together, ftrangely united into one, and yet I have nevx-r becn able to trace any one Inftance of previous Kindred between thcm. This Mind might have bcen paii'd with any oUier human

Body }

11 Mifcellaneous Thoughts^

Body j or this Body with any other Mind. I can iind nothing but the fovereign Will of God that joined this Mind and this Animal Body together, and raaJe the wondrous Compound : It was He ordained me to be what I am, in all the Circumftances of my Nativity.

S E E s T thou, O my Soul, that unhappy Cripple lying at thy Neighbour's Door, that poor mif-fhapen Piece of Human Nature r Mark how ufelefs are his Limbs ! he can neitJ^er fupport nor feed himfelf. Look overagainft him, there fits one that was Blind from his Birth, and begs his Bread. If thou hadft ■ been originally united to either of tliefe Pieces of Flefh ?.nd Blood, then hadft thou been that.poor Crir.ple, or that very blind Beggar.

y o N D E R lies a piteous Spefiacle, a pcar In- fant that came into theWorld but tl)ree Months ago, its Flefh cover'd with Ulcers, and its Bones putrifying •with its Father's Sins : I hear its whining Cries, and k>ng piteous Wailings ; its bitter Groans touch my Heart, and awaken all my Tendernefs : Let me ftand and reiltct a little. Surely I had been that wretched Thing, that little pining, perifliing Infant, and all thofe Pains and Agonies had been mine, if God had referved my Soul in his fecret Counfels till a few Months ago, and then confined it to that unhappy ^lanfion of difeafed and dying Flefh.

O N C E

zn V R 0 s E nnd Vx r s e, 13

^O N c E more let my Eyes affecl my Heart. What ,a ftrange aukward Creature do I fee there ! The Form of it is as the Form of a Man, but its Motions feera to be niore irregular, and the Animal more fenfe- lefs tlian a very Bcall: : Yet they tell me, it is forty Years old. It might liave been by this time a Statef- man, a Philofopher, a General of an Army, or a learned Divine ; but Reafon could ne\er acl nor fliew itfelf in that difordered Engine : The tcnder Brain was ruffled perhaps, and the Parts of it difturbed in -the very Embrio, or perhaps it v,'as fhaken with Con- vulfions when it firft faw the Light ; but the Place of its Birth was the fame with m.ine, and the Neighbours fay, h was born the next Door to me, How mifera- ble had I been if, when that Body was prepared, my Soul liad received order to go but one Door farther, to fix its mortal Dwelling there, and to manage that poor difabled Machine ! And if the Spirit alfo that re- fidcs there had been united to my Flefh, it had been a fad Exchange for me: That Ideot had been all thac I Was by Nature, and I had been that Ideot.

M V Meditations may ro^'e farther abroad, may furvey paft Ages and diftant Nations, and by thc Powers of Fancy, I may fct myfelf in the midft of them.

H A D this Spirit of mine bccn joined to a Body formcd in Lapland or Malabar, I had v.'orfhip'd thc

Images

14 Mifcellaneous Thonghts^

Images of Thor or Bramma ; and perhaps I had been a Lapland Wizard with a conjuring Drum, or a Ma- hbarian Prieft, to wear out my Life in ridiculous Eajiern Ceremonies,

H A D my Soul been formed and united to a Bri- tifo Body fifteen hundred Years ago, I had been a painted Britrn^ a rude Idolater, as well as my Fa- thers ; a fuperftitious Druid had been my higheft Cha- ra<Sler, and I fhould have paid my abfurd Devotions to (bme fancy'd Deity in a huge hollow Oak, and Jiv'd and dy'd in utter Ignorance of the true G o d, and of J E s u s my Saviour. Or had my Spirit been fent to Turkey^ Mahomet had been my Prophet, and the ridi- culous Stories of the Alcoran had been all my Hope of Etenial Life.

S H o u L D fome Flatterer ftand by and tell me, *' As your Stature is tall and manly, fo your Gcnius " is too fublime, and your Spirit too bright to be '* buried under thofe Clouds of Darknefs. Should he praftice upon my Vanity, and fay, " Charijius has " a Soul and Reafon which would have led him to '* the Knowledge of the true G o d, if he had been " born in theWilds oi America, and had for his Fa- •' ther a Savage Iroquois, or his Anceftors had been all *' Naraganfet Indiam?*

Fond fooIiftiMan, to imagine thereare noGenius's lyhich out-fhine me in the wild and barbarous World,

na

in Prose ^//^Verse. 25^

iiobrightand fublimelntelleilsbut thofe which are ap- pointed to a6t their Part in the Nations of Europe ! Good Senfc and natural Smaitnefs are fcatter'd among raoft of the Nations of Mankind. There are ingeni- ous Africans, Anuruan Wits, Philofophers and Poets in Makbar ; there are both the Sprightly and the Stu- pid, the Foolifh and the Wife, on this and on t'other Ijde of the great Atlantick Ocean : But the brightcr P.owers of Nature cannot exert themfelves and ihine in tiic famc Glory, when the Affairs and Circumrtances all arourwJ them are mean and low, and defpicable, when thcir Life andTime, and all their Powers from their vcry Infancy, are eniploy'd in providing a forry Suftenance for the Body, and fupplying the importu- note Appetites of Nature.

H A D I the largeft Share of nataral Underftand- ing and Sprightlinefs, far beyond what my Friends- # can imagine, all the Advantage of it would have been, that perhaps I had fhapdd a nicer Bov/, or fet the Feathers on an Arrow for fwifter Flight than my Neighbour : Perhaps I might have fooner hit the fly- ing Partridge, and laid a furer Trap for a ^Vild-Goofc or a Pigcon ; I had learnt to outwit the Brutal Crea- tion with more Succefs ; egregious Viftory and Triumph [ Or if I had employ'd my beft Spirits and Vigour in the Affairs of my Rcligien, I might have danced in more antick Poftures round fome facred Bonfire, and contriv'd fome new Superftitions, or perhaps authorized fome new Gods or Goddeffes ; or

C I mig:ht

z6^ Mtfcellaneous Thoughts,

I might have howrd among my Fellows with more liideous Airs than they, and have worfliipped the De- vil with more Zeal and A(3:ivity, Wretched Prero- gatives of a fprightly Nature, left without the Beams of illuminating Grace !

T o Thee, O my G o d, to Thee are due my eternal Praifes ; and to Thee will I ofFer the humbleft Acknowledgments and Songs of higheft Gratitude. It 13 Thou haft made my Compounded Nature what it is, in all the comfortable and hopeful Attendants of it ; Thou haft not joined my Spirit to the difturbed Bram ©f an Ideot, to a crlppled Carcafs, or a Piece of rumpled Deformity. Thou haft given to my Soul a Body, with its proper Limbs and Organs of Senfe, ca- pable of Aclivity, Converfe and Service among the reafonable World. Blefled be my G o d for ever, that he has appointed me to a<3: my Part in Great Bri~ tahi^ while 'tis a Land of Divine Light j he has pla- ced my Soul in fuch a Dwelling, and with fuch Cir- cumftances among the Sons of Men, as may, through his Grace, prepare it for the Company of Angels, and for his own bhfsful Prefence in the WorJd a- bove.

B u T has not my Spirit been deprefs'd by a fickly Conftitution, and confined to a feeble Engine of Flefli under daily Diforders ? Have I not fuftained many Sorrows on this Account, and wafted fome '^'cars among the Infirmities of the Body, and inpain»

ful

/// PROSE^W^ VeRSE. - 1J

ful Idlencfs ? Are there not feveral Souls favour'd ■with a more eafy Habitation, and yoaked with a bet- ter Partner ? Are they not accommodated with En- gines which have more Health and Vigour, and fitua- ted in much more happy Circumflances than mine ? Wbat then ? Shall I repine ?.t my Lot, and murmur againft my Creator, becaufe he has made fome Hun- dreds happier tliaii I ; while I furvey whole Nations, .and Millions of Mankludj that have mt a thoufandth Part of my BlefiTings ?

I D A R E not complain, O* my G o 0, that I ani not one of the few who enjoy the higheft Pleafures, and thc moft eafy Circumftances on Earth ; but I have infinite reafon to adore thy diftinguifliing Goodnefs, who haft not fuffer^d me to be ouq of tlic mife- rable Millions !

C 2 VI. T,:t

28 Mlfcellaneoiis Thoiights,

VI.

27^^ P R A I S E C/ G O D.

TT7HAT is Praifer 'Tis a Part of that Divine Worfhip which we owe to the Power that made us : 'Tis an Acknowledgment of the Perfec- tions of Go D, afcribing all Excellencies to him, and confefling all the Works of Nature and Grace to pro- ceed from him. Now when we appLy ourfehes to this Work, and drefs up our Notions of a G o d in Magnihcence of Language, when we furnifti thern out with fhining Figures, and pronounce them Tn founding Words, we fancy ourfelves to fay great Things, and are even charm'd with our own Forms cf Praife : But alas ! the higheft and beft of them fet in a true Light, are but tJie feeble Voicc of a Creature, fpreading be fore the Ahnighty Being that made him, fome of his own low and htt!e Ideas, and telHng him what he thinks of the Great G o d, and what G o d has done. When the holy Pfalmiji would exprefs his honourable Thoughts of his Maker, thej' amount only to this, Thou art good, and thcu docd good^ Pfal. cxix. 6%. How inconfiderable an OfFering is this for a G o D ! and yet fo condefcending is his Love, that he

looks

/;^?ROSE ^;/^ Verse. 29

>looksdown, and is well pleafed to receive It. Let us ftieditate on this a little, and learn how utterly unwor- thy our higheft Attempts of Worfhip, and our moft refined Strains of Praife, are of divine Acceptance.

1 . W E can ttll G oi> hut a very little cfivkat he /;, Or has done, How fmall a Portion do we know ! aiKi how mean niuft our Praife be ! Now to fpeak of the Worth of another fo very poorly and imperfeiflly, would be an AfFront among Mehj yet the great G o d takes it well at our ITands, when we labour to fay what we know of his Greatncfs or his Goodnefs. Our brigjiteft Ideas of him eclipfe his Glory, and our higheft Language fmks beneath the Dignity of his Nrtture. God U gyeat^ and zve kiiow hhn not, Job xxxvi. 26, he ia f.^talted ahm our Praijh, Nehem. ix. 5. .

2, W B can tell G 0 d nothing hut what he knoivs miuh hetter himfelf. 'Tis not to increafe his Knowledge when we fpread our own Concerns before him in Prayer ; for he knows what we are, what is our Frarae, what afe our WeakneiTcs and our Wants, far bettcr than we ourfelvcs are acquainted with them ; much lefs when we Praife him, can we prefume to know what G o d is, or what he does, or tell him any thing that relates to himfelf, but what he knew eternally before us, and knows infinitely better than we do ; wc can add no ncw Idcas to his Mind, nor enlarge one of his own Ideas,

C 3 1. We

50 Mtfcellaneous Thoughts^

3. We can only tdl God what Angeh andhappj Souh tell him ?nuch more of^ and in a much better manner - And yet all that Angels can fay bears no Proportion to what G o D is ; for if it did, G o D were not in- finite. Should a little Emmet that feels the Sun- beams, lift up its Head and {diy^ 0 Sun, thou art warm j a creepjng Infeil that knows nothing of tlie Nature, the Glory, the wonderful Properties, Operations and EfFedis of this prodigious and aftoniihing World of Fire, nothing of its various and admirable Motions, xeal or fuppos'd, nothing of its vaft Circumference and' Greatnefs ; yet this defpicable Emmet gives Praife to- the Sun much more than we can do to our G o d, much more than Angels can do, more than ajl created Nature can do ; becaufe there is fomc Proportion be- tween the Praifes of this creeping JForm, and the Glo- ries of the Sun ; they are both iinite : But the Glories of our G o D are infinite ; therefore no created Praife bears any Proportion. 'Tis only the Godhead that can fulfil its own Praifes ; that Voice that built the Heavens and the Earth can tell what G o d is, and what G o d has done. If he pronounce a Word and create all Things by it, 'tis only that Word caa pay him fuificient Praife.

H o w far then are our feeble and mean Eflays of Worfhip from adding any tliing to our Makerf' A forry Ant gi\ es Heat and Glory to the Sun, by telling it 'tis warm, as much as all tbe Acclamations of

Heav.en

in P R o s E and V e R s e. 31

Heaven and Earth can add reaJ Glory to the blefled God, His Eflential Perfeftions are uncapable of re- ceiving the leaft Grain of Addition from all thc Thoughts and Tongues of the intelle<Slu?.l World. His own Tdea of Himfelf, is his nobleft Praife.

How far are the moft exalted Praifes we pay to GoD, below the Danger of Flattery ! Flattery ex- alts a thing beyond its Nature and Merit ; but no Fellow-Creature would call himfelf flatter'd, fhould we fpeak of him in fo mean Terms, and fo much be- low Jiis Worth, as we muft do when we fpeak the higheft Praifes of our G o d that our Thoughts can reach to : and yct Pfal. 1. 23. He ihat offereth Praife, glorifies me. O Divine Condefcenfion, that a G o D will efteem our defpicable Praifes fome of his Glorles !

VII.

A Meditationfor the Ftrji ofViKx.

TT7 H A T aftoniftiing Variety of Artifices, what ' inumerable Millions of exquifite Works, is the G o D of Natiire ingaged in every Moment ! How glorioufly are bis all-pervading Wifdom and Power employ'd in this youthful Seafon of the Year, this Spring of Nature ! What infinite Myriads of Vege- table Beings is he forming thls very Moment, in tlieir Roots and Branches, in thelr Leaves and BloiToms,

C + thci.r

3^ Mifcellanmts Thoughts^

their Seeds and Fruit ! Some Indeed begun to diTcover" their Bloom amidft theSnows oi January, or under the rougli cold B]afts of March : thofe Flowers are withered and vanifhed in JpHI, and their Seeds are are now ripening to Perfeaion. Others are fhewing themfelves this Day in all tlieir blooming Pride and Beaiity ; and while they adorn the Gardens and Mea- dows, withgay and glowing Colours, they promife their Fruits in the Days of Harveft. The whole Na- tion of Vegetables is under the Divine Care and Cul- ture, his Hand forms them Day and Night with ad- mirableSkill and unceafmg Operation, according to the Natures he firfi: gave them, and produces their Buds and Foliage, their flowry Blofibms, antl rkh Ffuit in their appointed Mx.'nths : Their Progrefs "m Life i§ exceeding fwifc at this Seafon of the Year j and their fuccefiive Appearances, and fweet Changes of Rai- m^nt, are vifible almoil hourly.

B u T thefe Creatures are of Lower Life, and give but feebler Difplays of the Maker's Wifdom. Let us raife our Contemplatlons another Story, and fur- vey a nobler Theatre of Divine Wonders. What endlefs Armies of Animals is the Hand of God moulding and figuring this Moment throughout his Brural Dominions I What immenfe Flights of little Birds ai-e now fermenting in the Egg, Iieaving and growing towards Shape and Life ! What vaft Flocks of four-footed Creatures, what Droves of large Cattle arc now framing in their early

Em-

tn

Prose andYTLKSY.. ^^

Embrio's, imprifoned in the dark Cells of Nature ! and others perhaps are moving towards Liberty, and jufl preparing to fee the Light. What unknown Myriads of Infefts in their various Cradles and Nefting-places are now- working toward Vitahty and Motion ! and Thoufands of them with their painted Wings, jufl be- ginning to unfurl, and expand themfelves into Flut- tering and Day-Light : While other Families of them have forfaken their husky Beds, and exult and gHt- ter in the warm Sun-Beams !

A N exquifite World of Wonders is complicated even in the Body of every Httle Lifedl, an Ant, a Gnat, a Mite, that is fcarce vifible to the naked Eyc. Admirable Engines ! which a whole Academy of Philofophers Gould never contrive, which the Nation of Poets hath neither Art nor Colours to defcribc . nor has a World of Mechanicks Skill enough to frame the plaineft, or coarfeft of them, Their Nerves, their Mufcles, and the minute Atoms which compofe the Tluids- fit to run in the little Channels of their Veins, efcape the Notice of the moft fagacious Ma- thematician, with all his Aid of GlafTes. The active Powers and Curiofity of Human Nature are limited in tlieir-Parfuit, and muft becontent to lie down in Ig- norance. — Hitherto Jhall ye go and mfurthcr.

'T I s a fublime and conftant Triumph over all the Intellectual Powers of Man, which the greatGoD maintains every Moment in thefe inimitable Works of

C 5 Na-

34 Mifcellaneous ThoiightT^

Kature, inthefe impenetrable Recefles andMyfleriesof Divine Art ! and tlie Month of Ma)\ is the mofl fhining Seafon of this Triumph. The Fkgs and Ban- ners of Almighty Wifdom are now difp!ay'd round half the Globe, and the other half waits the return of the Sun, to fpread the fame Triumph over the SdU" ihern World. This very Sun in the Firmament is G o d's prime Minifter in this wondrous World of Beings, and he works with fovereign Vigour on the. Surface of the Earth, and fpreads his Influence? deep under the Clods to every Root and Fibre, moulding them into their proper Forms, by Divine Dire^lion.' There is not a Plant, nor a Leaf, nor one httle branching Shread, above or beneath the Ground, that 'fcapes the Eye or Influence of this beneficent Star : An. iliuftrious emblem of the Omniprefence and Univerfal. Adlivity of the Creator.

B u T has this all-wife Creator, this fupreme Lord of all Nature,,no intelledtual Prime Minifter at all m thefe his Dominions ? Has he delegated all his Powers to that bulky Globe of Fire which we call the Sun,, that inanimate and unthinking Mafs of Matter ? Is this huge burning and fenfelefs Body commiflion'd to penetrate every dark Cranny of Nature, either with Jts Light or Heat, and to animate every Atom in the Vegetable and Animal Kingdoms, and yet no intellec- tual Being, no Spirit fo much akin to G o d, as to be favour'd with the like extenflve Vicegerency ? Tho' the bight of Reafon does not tell his Name, yet has.

not

/« PROSE and Versc. 35*

not Revelation informed us ? Yes, furely, there is a. Man after G o d's own Heart, the fairell Image of the Creator, and neareft akin to him, ^hlong all the Works of his Hands : There is a Man, ttnd his Name is J E s u s, who holds moft intimate and perfonal Union with the Godhead, in whom all Divine Wif- dom dwells bodily, and to his Care has the Father committed all the infinite Varieties of the Vegetable and Animal Worlds. By him are all thefe Wonders produced in the Courfe of Providence, as by an Under- agentin the K.ingdt)m of Nature. Is not the Govern- ment of Heaven and Earth put into his Hands ? Is he not made Lord of Principalities and Powots, of Men, Angels, and Devils, and of all their Works ? And can we think that he has been deny^d the Govsrn- ment of the lower Parts of his Father's Workman- (hip ? Does he not manage all Things in thc World of Grace ? Surely then we may infcr, he rules as^ wifely and as fpacioufly in the upper and lower Re- gions of the Creation, as an intelledaal and confciouS' Inftrument of the Providence of his Father, God. My Father worketh hitherto^ and I work, I and my Fa- ther are One. And every Creaiure which is in Heaven, and on the Earth, and under the Earth^ and fiuh as are in the Sea, and all that are in them^ heard I fayingy Bhf fmg and Honour, and Glory atidPoiver^.be to him that ftteth uponthe Throiie ^ and to the Lamb fer sver andever^ Am«n..

VIII. Tk»

^6 Mtfcellaneous Thoughts,

viir.

l^ivine Goodnefs in the Creatiom

'Tp H O S E Authors have been very entertaining to me, who have taken a Survey of the IVifdom of God in the Works of Nature ; fuch are the Reverend and Pious Mr. Ray^ m his Treatife on that Subjed ; . Mr. Derham^ in his two Volumes written on thatDi- vine Theme ; and the Archbilhop of Cambray, . in his Demonftration of the Exiftence of G o d. But I do not remember to have read in thofe Authors this one Inftance of the wide-fpreading Diflufion of Di- vine Goodnefs through this lower World, {viz.) That-" the moft univerfal and confpicuous Appearances both of the Earth and Sky, are defigned for the Conveni— ence, the Profit and Pleafure of all the-Animal Crea- tion : AII that we fee above us, and all beneath us, is iiiited to ourNourifhment or to our Delight.

W H A T is more neceuary for the Support of Life, than Fiod ? Behold the Earth is cover'd with it all a- round ; Grafj, Herbs and Fruits for Beaftsand Men, . were ordain'd to overfpread all the Surface of the Ground, fo that an Animal could fcarce vrander any whcre, but his Food was near him. Amazing Pro- - vifionfor fuch an.iramenfe Family !

W H A T

/» P R o s E and V e r s e. 3^7

W H A T is more joyful than the Light ? Truly the Light isfweet (fays the wifeft of Men) and a plea' fajit thing 'tis to hehold the Light of the Swi. See the whole Circuit of the Heavens is replenifh'd with Sun- beams, fo that while tlie Day lafts, wherefoever the Eye is placed, 'tls furrounded with. this Enjoyment .. it drinJcs in the eafy and general Blefling, and is thereby entertained with all the particular Varieties of the Creation. 'Tis Light conveys to our Notice all the Riches of the Divine Workmanfhip ; without it Nature would be a huge and eternal Blank, and her infinite Beauties for ever unknown.

A G A I N j What are the fweeteft Colours in Na- ture, the moft delightful to the Eye, and moft refrefh- ing too ? Surely the Grcen and the Blne claim this Pre-- eminence. Common Experience, as well as Philofo- phy, tells us, that Bodies of Bhie and Green Colours. fend us fuch Rays of .Light to our Eyes, .as are leaft hurtful or ofFenfive j we can endure them longeft ; whereas \.h& Red and the Tellczv, or O r ang e Colour, fend more uneafy Rays in abundance, and give greater Conilifion and Pain to the Eye j they dazzle it fooner, and tire it quickly with a little intent Gazing ; there- fore the divine Goodnefs drefi'd all the Heavens in Blue, arud the Earth in Green. Our Habitation is overhung with a Canopy of moft beautiful Azure^ and a rich ver- dattt Pavement is fpread under our Feet, that the Eye aay be pleas'd and eafy, wherefoever it turns it''elf,

aiKl

j8 MifielUneous Thoughts,

and that the moft untverfal Objecls it has to converfc with might not impair the Spirits and make the Sen(e weary.

I-

Wl->en G o d the new-made World furvey'd,.

Flis Word pronounc'd the Building good j Sun-beams and Light the Heavens array'd,

And thewhole Earth was crown'd with Focd..

Colours that charm and eafe the Eye,

His Pencil fpread all Nature round ; With pleafmg Bliie he arch'd.the Sky,

And a Green Carpet dreft the Ground..

III.

Let envious Atheifts ne'er complain That Nature wants, or Skill, or Care 5

But turn their Eyes all round in vain, T' avoid their Maker's Goodnefs there,.

Jhe

in F R 0 s E ani V e r s e. 3 ^

IX.

The facred Concerp of Traife. I.

/*^ O JVTE, pretty Birds, fly to this vcrdant Shade,- Here let our difFerent Notes in Praife confpire : 'Twas the fame Hand your painted Pinions fpread, Thst fonn'd my nobler Powers to raife his Honours

[higher, II.

Fair Songflei-6, come j beneath the facred Grove We'll fit and teach the Woods our Maker's Name : Men have forgot his Works, his Power, his Love, Forgot thc mighty Arm that rear'd their wondrous

[Frame,

m.

Ifearch the crowded Court, the bufy Street,.

Run thro' the Villages, traceevery Road :

In vain I fearch ; for every Heart I meet

Is laden with the World, and empty of its G o d,

IV.

How fhall I bear with Men to fpend my Days ? Dear feather'd Iiuiocents, you pleafe me beft ;

AO MtfcellaneousThoiights^.

My G o D has fram'd your Voices for his Praife, His high Defigns are anf'.ver'd by your tuneful Breaft.

V.

Sweet"\Varblers, come, wake a!l vour chearful Tongues, ^ We jo)'n with Angels and their Heavenly Choirs ; Our humble AIfs n»ay ^mitate their Songs, Tiio' bolder are^their Notes, and purer are their Fires. ■

VI.

Had I ten thoufand Hearts, my God, my Love,' Had I ten Thoufand Voices, all are thine : Where Love enflames the Soul, the Lips muft move, Nor Ihall the Song be mortal where the Theme'3

[Divine-

X.

Ihe- Wdrld a Stranger to God.

I.

T N F I N I T E Beauty , everlafting Love, [thee ! How are our Hearts, ourThoughts, eilrang^d from Th' eternal God furrounds us ; yet we rove In Chafe of airy Toys, and foUow ?.s they flee.

/;; P R o s E and V e k s e. 4:1 II.

Oli could I crj', and make the Nations hear, From NorthioSouth my Voice {hould teach thy Namc: Td tell them, that they buy their Joys too dear, And pay inimortal Souls for glittering Duft or Fame.

111.

Almfghty Powcr, break ofF there Chalns of SeJife, Melt them away with Love's celeftial Fire, Creatc the World ajlcw ; let Man coinmence A Seraph Jlere on Earth, let Mart to Heaven afpire.

TV RGATO RT,

^npW AS a gainful Contrivance of the Priefts ef Rome^ to erecl a Building between Heaven and Hell, where to difpofe of good Chriftians after Death till they are compleatly fit for Heaven : This is Pur~ gatory \ a Place wherc the remaining Vices of the dy- ing Man are purged out v/ith Fire : The Torments of it are faid to be equal to the Torments of Hell, and diff*eronIy in thc Duration. Thofe Souh for whom the Prieft h hind to fay moft MalTes, are fooneft freed

from '■

4^ Mtfcelhneous Thoughts^

from the Reliasof Iniquity, and get the fpeedleft Re- leafe to the heavenly Regions. This fills the CofFers of the Clergy by the Legacies of the Dead : Every one that leaves the World, takes fomething away from- his Friends and his Heirs to purchafc Prayers for him- felf, and to ftiorten the Anguifh of his Purification. Even that excellent Man, the Archbifhop of Camhrayy in his Pofthumous Book called liis Spiritual JVorksy fpeaks of the Neeeffity of diis purifying Fire, for good Chriftians, to burn out the Remnant of Self-Love,' by teaching them Patience and entire Refignation of the Will, and perfedl Contentment under the fiery Difcipline.

B u T I cannot imagine how this DoArlne fhould be any Tcmptation to Men to become Profelytes to tlie Church of Rome : One Inftance of tlns kind which I am going to relate, methinks fhould affright Perfons for ever from turning Papifts..

Promedoft was bred in the Proteflant Faith, but having a fuperflitious Turn of Mind, and being much imprefl by the Difcourfe of an Uncle who was a devout Catholick, he bcgan to waver, and was in- c)in'd to change, He went lately to pay a Vifit to this Uncle on his Death-bed ; where after many Crof- fings and Anointings, and HoJy Charms, he faw the dying Man continue ftill in utmoft Difirefs and Hor- ror ; for notwithflanding all the Devotions of hi Life, and the Ceremonies at his laft Moments, yet

he

/;/ P R o s E and V e r s e. 43

he thought himfelf plunging into Torments equal to Hell : His Flcfh was convulsM, and his Soul con- founded at the Thoughts of fuch immediate Anguifh. He ordered in liisWill five Hundred Poundsworth of Mafles, yet he was not afTured whether the State of of his Purgation would continue Months, or Years, or Ages. Amidft thefe Agonies, Promedon faw his Un- cle expire, and performed thc laft kind Ofiice to clofe his Eyes.

I N his return home, he talked thus with himfeir,. ** What ? Can the Pope promife no more than this ? ** Muft a Man that is almoft fit to be Sainted be fent ** to Hell for a Seafon, till the Priefts are well fee'd to " fay Prayers enough to fetch him out of it ? Is the ** Mercy of G o D fo limlted in the Popifli Do£lrine, ** and reduced to fuch a Scantling, as not to fave us ** without fome Atonements of our own ? Is not the ** Blood of our Redeemer fufficient of itfelf to pur- *' chafe our full Pardon, but muft we buy part of ** it with tlie Anguifta of our own Souls after Death ? '* Cannot the blefted Spirit make his own fan6lifying ** Work perfed, but tlje Fire of Purgatory muit ** help to burn out our Sins ? Has not C h r i s r .** promifed me in the Bible, that if I am faithful till ** Dcath, I fhall mehe a Crown of Lifc, and has the '* Prieft Power to delay my Crown, and keep me {o " long out of the Pofleffion, till his Maftes and. " Prayers fliall bring me into it ? Is not all the Grace *' of thc Gofpel a fufiiciem Security againft the Pains

44 Mtfcellaneoui Tboughty:^

** cf Hell, biit after all my Faith and the Labours of ** my Devotlon, I muil be confignM to hclllfh Tor- *' ments, colour'd and foftcn'd with ancther Name ? *' Does not the^U^ord of God give Encouragement to *' hope, that when lue Jepart hence we jhall be unih <■' Chrijl ? that when I am ahfent from tke Bcdy I {hall *' be prefent with the^Lord P And this is not only the " Bleffing of an Apoi^le, but even a Difciple of " Ch [ft of the loweft Rank, and whofe Charadter " could make no Pretence to Merit, has the fame » ' Privilege. A Thief upon thb- Crofs, put to Death " by the Hand of Juftice for his Crimes, and who *' (as fome Divines fuppofej had reviled our Saviour *' juft beforc, (becaufe fome of the facred Hiftorians ** charge both tho Thicvcs with reviling him ;) Such ** a Wretch, I fay, who did not begin to repcnt till ** he began to die, has a Promife from our bleflcd ** Lord, that he {hould be luith him in Paradife that *' very Day, becaufe his Repentance and Faith were *' fmccre. And according to theie Encouragements ** of the Gofpel, havc I not heard of many a reli- *« gious ProtefJant dying upon the Faitli of the New *' Teftament with Joy, and good Aflurance of his *' immediate entrance into Bleflednels r And are thefe " Terrors and Agonies of Spirit which I jufl: now *' belield, all the Confolation that the Priefts of Rome ** will allow to fo religious and devout a Man as my *' Uncle was ?

*' F ARE'

/;/ P R o s E and V e R s e. 45^

" F A R E w E L, farewel, ycDeceivers : My Bible " .{hall be my only Guide, and tl"ie Grace of G o d '* for ever preferve me in that Religion whicH puts (o *' much Honour on the Sufferings of our bleffed Sa- " viour, as to ftcure Heaven to a good Man, as foon " as he departs from Earth.

XII.

The Temple of the Sun,

T F I were an Idolater and would build a Templc for the Sun, I {hould make the wholc Fabrick to confift of Glafs ; the Walls and Roof of it fliould be all over tranfparent, and it fliould need no other Windows. Thus I might every where behold the Glory of the G o D that I worfliip, and feel his Heat and rejoyce in his Light, and partake of the Vital In- fiuences of that illuftrious Star in every Part of his Temple.. But may not this Happinefs be obtained without forfaking the True G o d, or falling off to Idolatry ?

S u R E L Y the bleffed Ordinances of Chriftianity are thus contrived and defigned. Such are Bapcifra aiid the Lord's Supper, Preaching, Praying and Pl'al«

mody.

4^ Mijcellaneous Thoughts^

mody. Thefe Inftitutions of Worfhip are chofen and appointed with fuch divine Wifdom, that they reprefent to us the Glory of th-e feveral Perfeftions of our G o D in his Works of Nature and Grace, and tranfmit the Beams of his Power and Love to enJiven and to comfort our dark and drooping Spirits. Wl^en we are brought as it ivere by his Spirit into his Courts, the Glory of the Lord will fill the Houfe^ and we ftiall hear him Jpeaking to our Souls. The Sun of Righteouf- nefs will {hine into our Hearts : All the Powers of out Nature will rejoyce in the Light of his Majefly, and under tlie Rays of his Mercy : We freqiJent his Sanc- tuary with Dclight to behcll the Beauty of the Lord therc^ to feel the warm Shiites of Divinc Good- ■iiefs, and partake of his promifcd Salvation, Ezek- xliii. 5, 6. Pfal. xxvii. 4. and Ixiii. 2. Bui to carry ihe Similiiude yetfurthery

S u P P o s E when I had finifliM this Heathen Tem- ple, and basked there with Pleafure under the Rays of my bright Idol, fome fanciful and ingenious Painter (hould attempt to cover the Building all round with his own Ornaments ; fuppofe Raphael himfelf fhould ufe his Pencil with exquifite Art, and with mingled Colours and Images of rich Variety and Beauty, over- fpread all the Walls, the Doors, and the tranfparent Roof of it : How would this feclude the Sun's beft Influences, and fhut this Idol Deity out of his owii Temple ? Nay, tho' the Image of the Sun fhould bc drawn there tenThoufand times over in Lines of

Gold,

/;/ pROSE ^;/<^ Verse. 47

^jld, with a Pretence to reprefent him in all his wondrous Effedts, yet every Line will forbid the En- trance of a Sun-beam, and the Worfhipper within muft dwell inTwilight, or perhaps adore in Dark- nefs ; he muft lofe the true Sight of iiis Planctary God, and the Benefit of his chearing Beams, Not the richeft Skill of a Zeuxis or ApeUes beautifying the Walls of this Fabrick, could ever fupply the Abfence of the Sun, or compenfate thc Lof-; of Light and Heat.

S u c H are the Rites and Ceremonies of Hu- man Wifdom, when they are contrived as Ornaments to Divine Worfhip. A facred Inftitution mingled with the Devices of Men, is in truth nothing elfe but Ghfs darhied ivith the Colours of a Painter, laid thick upon it. Thefe Inventions may appear to the Fancy, not onlv grave and decent, but artiul and ho- nourable too ; they may pretend Afliftance to the de- vout Worfliipper, and Glory to G o d himfelf : But in reality they exclude him from his own Temple. Sometimes they Ihow a painted Idol in the ftead or him, for nothing can effe6tually reprefent G o d, but his own pure Appointments ; and fo far as the Orna- ments prevail above the ftmple Ordinance, they pre- vent all the kind Influcnces of his Power and Grace, for he vouchfafes to tranfmit thcfe no otherway, but through his own Inftitutions. When the Church of Rome honours God zvith her Lips, and her FrleRsft up their Threfholds by tny Thref.v^ds, faitJi the Lord, and

their

48 Mifcellaneous Thonghts^

their PoJJs by my Pqfis^ they kave even difled my holy Name hy their Jbominations, and in vain do they worjlnp me^ teaching for DoSirines the Comniandments cf Men. Efa. xxix. I 3. comp. with Matt. xv. 8, 9. and Ezech. xliii. 8.

xiir.

The M I D N I G H T E L E \- A T I O N.

I.

'VT O W reigns the Night in Jier fubliineft Noon, Nature lies hufli'd j the Stars their Watches keep i I wait thy Influence, gei>tle Sleep, Come, fhed thy choicert Pcppies down On every ^cnk, fvveet Slumbers feal my Eyes, Tir'd with the Scenes of Day, with painted Vanities-

IL

In vain I wifh, in vain I try To clofe my Eyes, and learn to die ; Svveec Slimbers from my reftlefs Pillow fly : Then be ^ay Thoughts fercne as Day, Bs fprightly as the Light,

Swift

Swift as the Sun's far fhooting Ray, And take a vigorous Flight : Swift fly my Soul, tranfcend thefe dusky Skies,

And trace the vital World that lies

Beyond thofe glimmering Fires that gild and cheer the

[Night. IIL

Tlicre J E su s reigns, Adored Name i

The Second on theThrone fupreme :

In w^hofe myfterious Form combinc

Created Glories and Divine :

The Joy and Wonder of the Realms alx)ve ;

At his Command, all their wing'd Squadrons mov^

Burn with his Fire, and trijamph in his Lo^'e.

IV.

Tliere Souls re]eas'd fromEarth'3 dark Bondage llve My Rcynolds there, witli Howe and Boyk are found Not Time nor Nature could their Genius bound,

' And now they foar, and now they dive In that unlimitableDeep whereThought itfelf is dro7/n'd.

They aid the Seraphs while they fmg,

GoD is their unexhaufted Theme j Light, Life and Joy from that immortal Spring O'erflow the blefled Millions with an endiefs Stream.

Amazing State ! Divine Abode ! Where Spirits find Uieii Heaven while they are loft in

[G 0 D.

D V. Hail,

5*0 Mtfcellaneous Thoughts,

V.

Hail, holy Souls, no more confin'd

To Limbs and Bones that clog the Mind,

Ye have efcap'd the Snares, and left the Chains behind. We wretched Prifoners here below, What do we fee, or learn, or know,

3ut Scenes of various Folly, Guilt and Woe ?

Life's buzzing Sounds and flatt'ring Colours play Round our fond Senfe, and wafte the Day,

Enchant the Fancy, vex the labouring Soul j Each rifmg Sun, each lightfome Hour,

Beholds the bufy Slavery we endure ;

Nor is our Freedom full, or Contemplation pure,

When Night and facred Silence overfpread the Pole.

VI.

Reymlds^ thou late afcended Mind,

EfflpIoy'd in various Thought and tuneful Song, What happy Moment fhall my Soul unbind,

And bid me join th' harmoniousThrong ?

Oh for a Wing to rife to thee ! When fhall my Eyes thofe heavenly Wonders fee ? When fliall I tafte thofe Conforts wich an Ear refin'd ?

vn.

RoII bn apace, ye Spheres fublime, Swift drive thy Chariot round, Illuftrious Moon, Hafte, all ye twinkling Meafurefs of Time,

Ye can't fulfil your Courfe too foon.

Kindle

iu P R o s E and V e r s e. $i

Kindle my languid Powers, Celeftial Love,

Pointall myPafTions to the Courts above,

Then fend the Convoy down to guard my laftRemove,

VIII. Thrice happy World, where gilded Toys Nomoredifturbour Tlioughts, no morepolluteour Joys!

There Light and Shade fucceed no raore by turns, There reigns th' Eternal Sun with an unclouded Ray, There all is calm is Night, yet all immortal Day,

And Truth for ever fliines, andLove for cver burns.

/

XIV.

The Honourable Magistrate.

l^V I D O was a Man of a inrewd Underftanding, but had fo much Ill-humour in his' Make, that he could fpeak well of no Body : Yet there once happen'd an Incident in Converfation, that betray'd him, with- out thinking, into a Good-natur'd Truth ; and even while he was pradlifing his own malicious Temper, he was furprized into the Acknowledgment of fuperior Worth, and paid a noble Teftlmony to Virtue.

The Story was this. A Fr I E N D of minc had drawn up the Charac- ter of an excellent Magiftrate, where, amongother ad- mirable Qualifications, tliefe were inferted.

D 2 __ « Hc

52^ Mifcellaneous Thotights,

— — ** H E never aimed at Superiority over J-hs *' Neighbours, tho' by the Bounty of Providence he <' grew richer than they : He had the univerfal Re- ** fpe6l due to Goodnefs, long before he was inade " Great ; and when his Fellow-Citizens voted him " into Power and Honour, he furvey'd the Province *' with a jull Reluftance, and fhrunk away from *' Grandeur ; nor could any thing overcome his fm- " cere Averfion, but a Senfe of Duty, and Hopes of " publick Service.

" He pafTed through the chief Offices of the City, **■ and left a Luftre upon them by the Pradice of fuch *' Virtue and fuch Piety as the Chair of Honour " has feldom known : Thofe who have " attended ^' that Court fince the Year of his . Magiflra- " cy fearch the Regifter backward for twenty " annual SuccefHons, and confefs he has had no " Rival.

" W H I L E he flood in that Eminence, he furvey'd " the whole Nation, took a juft View of irs Wants " and its Dangers ; and by the divine Blefling " (which his daily Retirements engaged on his fide) he " fecured the Nation's beft Intereft, the Exclufion of " a Child of Rnme from the Throne oi E?igland, and " the Succeftion of a Proteftant Government. At " the appointed Seafon he refigned with Pleafure the " Fatigues of Power, the tirefome Hours of State,

« and

" and the tedious Train of Pomp and Equipage ; but « he daily fiilfils the Duties of fubordinate Authority " to the Terror of Vice, to the Support of the Good, " and to the Reformation of a fmfiu Land. He vin- '• dicates the Poor with Courage, againft the Oppref- " fion of the Mighty, and fends gay Criminals to the ** Place of Correclion : He puts the rich Offenders " to publick Shame, as well as the Poor, and he " doth it with a noble Security of Soul : So fpotlefs a " Charafter fears no Recriminations.

" W H E N the Days of publick Shew and Proccf- *' fion return, he hides himfelf often at his Country- " Seat, and makes every trifling Obftacle a fjfficicnt " Excufe for his Abfence from Honours, Scarkt and ** Gold : But none (o zealous and conftant in their ** Attendance on the Hours of Bufinefs ; and at the" ** Honourable Board, there is no Seat empty fo fel- " dom as his. Neither Gain nor Diverfion cau *' tempt him afide, when the Duty of his Poft re- ** quires his Prefence, and the Publick Weal demands ** Jiis Counfels, His Health, his Eafc and his Eftate *' are at the Call of his Country j his Life lies ready *' too for the farae Service ; but his Nation gives '* Thanks to Providence that has not demanded the *' precious Sacrifice.

** H E has no fpreading Dimenfions nor lofty Ad-

** vantages of Staturc, whence he might look down

*' upon the Multitudc, and command them into Re-

D 3 ** verence 3

S4- Mifcellaneotis Thoughts,

" verence; but fuch unb]emiih'd Virtue has Grandeur

" and Majefty in it, and fpreads Fear and Refpedl a-

*' round. When he goes out u the Gate through the

" Ciiyy he neither wears nor needs the Enfigns of

" Honour about him, nor Attendants to follow him

" in the Street ; the vain ycmig Men fie him arui hide

" thcfnfelves ; the aged arifs andjland up ; ivhen the Ear

" hearshim^ then it blejjes him; the Eye that fies him

*' gives witJiefi to him \ hecaufi he has delivered the

" difirejfed Soul that cried^ he has relieyed the Fathcr-

" lefis^ and him that had 7ione to help. The Bkjfimg ofi " thofi that are ready to perijh com.es daily upon him^ and

" he caufies the WidovSs Heart to fimg fior Joyj He is a

" Faiher to the Poor^ and ihe Caufie whichhe knows not he

" fiearches out ; he hreaks the Jaws cf the IVichd^ and

" plucks the Spoil cut oftheir Teeth, Job xxix.

" T H E vileft Wretches of the Earth cannot but love " the Man, while they hate tlie reforming Magiiirate. " Not the united Malice of his worft Enemies canfind " any Occafion againji him, biit concerning the Laiv ofi his " God ; and were it not upon that Account, he " wouid have no Enemies at all.

" T H E- World wonders and enquires, Whence all «* thefe Accomplifhments ! How did this Man arrive *' at this true Greatnefs, and all thefe uncommon " Excellencies ? Thofe who are his Intimates know " the Spring of them. He makes the Word of G o d *< his daily Counfellor, and he feeks Diredlions from

" Heaven

I

in Prose and Verse.' ^$

"■ Heaven- in all his AfFairs on Earth : He reads the

*' Examples of Ddniel and Job m his Bible, and joins

** them together in his own Practice ; for he thinks

*' one of them alone too little for a Chriftian.

^V" H E N I had rea:i this in a Room where Invhb wjis prefcnt, one of tlic Company commended the Ingenuity of my Frieiui in drawing up fo fair, fo di- vine a Charadler. Some of them gave it as their Opi- nion, that the Excellencies and good Qualities were fet too thick togethcr, and that there was no fuch Perfon in Nature, therefore it muft be the mere Work of Fancy : Thcy confefsM it was well imagin'd in- deed, 'twaa a fine Pi<^ure, but there was no fuch Ori- giiial.

Invido had no longer Patience to hear fuch Compli- ments pafa'd on theVVriter ; but with his ufual eager- nefs, " Your Friend ffaid he) was never capable of " compofing fuch a Picce 3 there is not a Line of it *' ov.-ing to his own Invention, for the whole Cha- " rafter is a mereCopy. This Friend of yours hash\»ed " fcme Years in Mi.wsh Family, and has only ftole " hisPidure.

Yo u are much in the right, Invido ; it was fo de- figned; and I am glad theFeatures are fo well touch'd, and the Likenefs fo finely preferved, that a Man of yourTemper fliould confcnt to knowthePicce, fhould name the Original, and confefs the Likenefs.

I> 4 Ha ppy

^6 MifcellaJteotis Tboughts,

H A P P Y Jihimis, and favoured of Heaven beyond the common rate even of the bcft of Men, when Envy itfelf is conftrain'd to pay publick Honours to his Merit.

XV. j^ Lesson ^/Humility.

TT O W vain a thing is Man ! How ready to be puff'd up with every Breath of Applaufe, and to forget that lie is a Creature, and a Sinner ! He that can bear to be furrounded v iih Approbations and Ho- nours, and yct keep the fame Air and Countenance witlvout fweiling a little at Heart, hath pafs'd an Hour of Temptation, and come off Conqueror. Js the Fi- ning-p:tfor Silver, and the Funiacefor Gold, fo is a Man to his Praife, Prov. xxvii. 2 1 .

Eudoxus is a Gentleman of exalted Virtue, and un- ftained Rcputation : Every Soul that knows him, fpeaks well of him ; he is fo much honoured, and fo wej beioved in his Nation, that he muft flee his Country if 1-ie wou'd avoid Praifes. So fenfible is he of the fecret Pride tliat has tainted Human Nature, that he holds him- felf in perpetualDanger, and maintains an everlafting Watch. He behaves now with the fame Modefty, as

when

in P R o s E and V e r s e. 57

when he was unknown and obfcure. He recelves the Acclamationsof theWorldwith fuchan humbleMien, and with fuch an indifFerence of Spirit, that is truly admirable and divine. 'Tis a lovely Pattern, but th^ Imitation is not eafy.

I took the Freedom one Day to ask him, How hc acquir'd this wondrous Humility, or whether he was born with no Pride about him ? " Ah, no, (faid he, ** with a facred Sigh) I feel the working Poifon, but " I keep my Antidote athand ; when my Friendstell ** mie of many good QuaHties and Talents, I have ^*' learnt from St. Paul to fay, If^oat have I that I have " not received ? My own Confcioufnefs of many Fol- ** Ires and Sins conftrains me to add, What havc Ithat ** / have not 7nifimprov\i ? And then Reafon and Reli- *' gion joyn together*to fupprefs my Vanitv, andteach " me the proper Language of a Crea^jre and a Sin» ** ner> IVhat then havc I to ghy iw? 1716.

xvr.

7he Waste ofhi^ E.

^.V£ RGUS was a young Gcntleman of a good

Ffete, he was bred to no Bufmefs,. and could

not contri^'e how to wafle his Hours agreeably ; he

iiad no Relifli for any of the proper Works of Life,

^ S J]nr

5-8 • Mtfcellaneoits Thoughts,

nor any Tafle at all for the Improvenients of the Mincf he fpent gener-ally ten Hours of the four and twenty in his Bed j he doz'd away two or three more on his Couch, and as many were diflblved in good Liqour every Evening, if he met with Company of his own Huniour. Five or fix of the reft he fauntered away "with much Indolence : The chief Bufmefs of them was tocontrive his Meals, and to feed his Fancy be- fore-hand with the Promife of a Dinner and a Supper ; not that he was fo very a Glutton, or fo entirely de- voted to Appetite ; but chiefly becaufe he knew not how to employ his Thoughts better, he let 'em rove about the Suftenance of his Body. Thus he had made a Shift to wear off' ten Years fince the Paternal Eftate 4-11 into his Hands : And yet according to the Abufe of Words in our Day, he was caird a Man of Virtue, becaufe he fcarce ever was known to be quitc drunk, nor was his Nature much inclin'd to Lewdnefs.

O N E Evening as he was mufing alone, his Thoughts happened to take a moft unufual Turn, for t\-\ty caft a Glance backward, and began to refledl on liis manner cf Life. He bethought himfelf what a Ni:mber of Livino- Beinfrs had becn made a Sacrifice to

O O

fupport his Carcafs, and how much Corn and Wine

Jir.d becn raingled with thofe OfFerings. He had not

-quiteloft all the Arithmetick that he Iearn'd when he

was a Boy, and he fet himfelf to compute what he

iiad devoured fince he canie to the Age of Man.

L

A B 0 V E

I

in P R o s £ aud. V e r s e. 59

" A B o V E a dozen feather'd Creatures, fmall and *' great, have one Week with another (faid he) given *' up their Lives to prolong mine, vi^hich in ten Years *' Time amounts to at leaft Six Thoufand.

*' FiFTY Sheep have been facrificed in aYear, Vi^ith

'' half a Hecatomb of Black Catte], that I might

*' have the choiceft Part cfFered Weekly upon my

" Table. Thus a Thoufand Beafts out of the Flock

*' and the Herd have been fiain in ten Years Time to

" feed me, befides what the Forreft and the Park

" have fupply'd me with, Many Hundreds of Fifties

" have in all their Varieties, been robb'd of Life for

*' my Repaft, and of tlie fmalJer Fry as many Thou-

*' fands.

"A Measure of Corn would hardly affbrd " fine Flour enough for a Month's Provifton, and " this arifes to above Sixfcore Bufhels ; and many " Hcgfheads of Ale and Wir,e, and other Liqours, " have paffed through this Body of mine, this wretched '* Strainer of Meat and Drink.

" A N D what have I done all this Time for G o d " or Man ? Wiiat a vaft Profufion of crood TJiin^s " upon an ufelefs Life, and a worthlefs Li\er ? " There is not the meaneft Creature among all thefe '* whicli I have devoured, but hath anfwer'd the End " of its Creation bettcr than l. 'Twas made Xo

" fupport

^o Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

" fupport Human Nature, and it hath done fo. *' Every Shrimp and Oyfter I have eat, and every " Graln of Corn I have devoured, hath filled up it's " Place in the Rank of Beings with more Propriety " and Honour than I have done : O Ihameflil Wafte V- of Life and Time !

I N fhort, he carried on his moral Reficclions with fo juft and fevere a Force of Reafon, as conftrain^d him to change his whole Courfe of Life, to break ofF his FoUies at once, and to apply himfelf to gain fome ufeful Knowledge, when he was more thanThirty Years of Age : He livcd many following Years, with the Charafter of a worthy Man, and an excellent Chriftian ; he perform'd the kind Offices of a good Neighbour at home, and made a fhining Figure as a Patriot in the Senate-Houfe ; he died with a peaceful Confcience in the Falth and Hope of the Gofpel, and the Tears of his Country were dropped upon his Tomb. •

T H E World, that knew the whole Series of hfs Life, ftcod amazed at the mighty Change : They be- held him as a Wonder of Reformation, while he himfelf confefs'd and ador'd the Divine Power and Mcrcy, v/hich had transform'd him from a Brutc to a Man.

B u T this was a fingle Inftance ; and we may almoft venture to write M i R a c l e upon it. Are

therc

i^

in pROSE and Verse. 6i

there not large Numbers of both Sexes among our young Gentr}', and among the Families of Quality, in a dcgenerate Age, whofe Lives thus run to utter Wafle, without the leaft Tendency to Ufefuh-iefs and Reformation, and with a Scorn of all Repen- tance ?

W H E N I meet with Pcrfons of fuch a worth- lefs Chara^Sler as this, it brfngs to my Mind fome Scraps of Horacc^

Nos m?nerus fumus, & fruges tonfumere nati,

— Alcinoique fuventus

Cui pulchrum fuit in Mcdios dormire dies, Sic.

Paraphrase.

There are a Number of us creep Into this WorlJ, to eat and fleep ; And know no Reafon why they're born, But merely to confume the Corn, Devour the Cattle, Fowl and Fifh, And leave bchind an empty Difli : The Crows and Ravens do the fame, Unlucky Birds of hateflil Name ; Ravcns or Crows might fill their Place, And fwallow Corn and CarcafTes. Then, if their Tomb-flone when they die, Ben'c taught to flatter and to lye,

Tkre*s

6z MtfceUaneous Thoughts,

There's nothing better will be faid, '

Than that thefve eat up all their Bread, 7

Drank up their Drink, and ggm to Bed. j

T H E R E are other Fragments of that Heathen Poet, which occur on fuch Occarions ; one in the firft of his Saty rs, the other in the laft of his Epiftles, • which feem to reprefent Life only as a Seafon of- Luxury.

— Exa^o contentustempore vitcs'

Cedat uti conviva fatur .

Lujijii fatis , edi/ii fatis (Uqute hihijii ; Tetnpus ahire tibi, ■

TVloich may he thus put into Englilh, •

Life's but a Feaft ; and when we die, Horace would fay, if he were by, Friend, thou haft eat and drank enough, . 'Tis Time now to be marching off" : Then hke a well-fed Gueft depart, With cheerful Looks, and Eafe at Heart ; Bid all your Friends Good Night, and fay, y~ou\'e done the Bufmefs ofthe Day.

Reflection".

Deluded Souls ! that facrihce Eternal Hopcs above the Skies, And pour their Lives out all in Walle, To the vile Idol of their Tafte !

The

>.

in Prose ^;^^ Verse. (>3

The hlgheft Heaven of their Purfuit Is to live equal with the Brute : Happy, if they could die as v/cll, Without a Judge, wlthout a Hell !

XVII.

^ The Table Blefs'd.

TT O W do we upbraid and condemn the Romljlj Clergy for pretending to confecratc the Wafer for all thc People, by muttering a i^vj Latin Words over it, which they canfiot underftand ! While we abhor the Idolatry of the Mafs, yet we cannot help fmile- ing at the filly Superftition, and pity the Ignorance of the Multitude : They believe the Bread fufficlently confecrated for them to all the Purpofes of thelr Sal- vation, tho' they never join'd witlj the Prleft in at- tending to theWords of Blefling : Nor indeed was it poflible they fhould have their Hearts engaged in that Part of the Worfhip, becaufe it was perform'd in an unknown Tongue. Who is theje among us, that. does not blame and rcprove fo abfurd a Pradlce ? And yet we imltate the fame Folly daily, and think our- felves unconcern'd in the Reproof.

Fornmlo fays Grace conftantly at a plentiful Table, but he hurries over thc Words as a School-boy docs

his

^4 Mlfcellaneoiis Thoughts^

his Lefibn, and he whifpers in fo low a Voice, as^ tho' he were muttering fome fecret Charm to confe- crate the Difhes. Does he think it fufficient if the Words may be heard in Heaven, while the Company in the Room know little of the Matter, and the quickeft Ears can diflinguiih no more than a few broken Syllables ? Yet I have heard tliis Man main- tain a fine Argument againft PoplJ}} Superftition and the Latin Liturgy : I have heard him aflert with very good Reafon, that no Part of the Bread is fandtified to the People at the holy Sacrament by all the Com- munion-Service, where the Hearts of the Communi- cants are abfent, and never jo/n with the Church in her Prayers : Then why will not Formulo let his Friends at the Table join with him in his Graces F No wonder that the Family and the Guefts ftare about thoughtlefs, and fit down to their Food without a Blefling, when the Lips that pronounce it do not fuiTer the Blefllng to reach their Ears. But Chap- lains are not the only Perfons culpable in this Mat- ter, nor are they always to blarae.

Jfebm, a gay Gentleman of one and fwenty, was prefent at aTable where G o d is addrefs'd in a more religious Manner, and with a devout and becoming Solemnity. He fits down and eats heartily j he doubts not but the Food is fufiiciently biefs'd to his Ufe, tho' he neverraifed hisThoughts towards Hea- ven, nor attended at all while the good Man Screnus perform'd hii Oflige. Jjebion was bufy in ih^ difpo-

I

in P R o s E and V e r s e. 6^

fal of his Hat and Sword, and furveying all the Faccs of the Company, while the Blefling of Heaven was fought on the Food.

H I s Sifter Afcbhia, a pert young Creature of fifteerr, was obferv'd to employ that Minute in drawing off her Gloves, adjufting her Drefs, giving herfelf Airs, and preparing for her Seat. At the fame time there was at the Table a pious and elder Lady, a near Rc- lation of theirs, who with Griei' obferv'd the carclefs Condu<£l of hcr Niece and Nephew ; and being feat- ed next above Jfebina, fhe had the Opportunitv to whifper a gentle Admonition, '* How can you cxpect, " Niece, a Blefling on your Meat, who did not fo *' much as lift up a Thought to Go d to ask for it ?" Jfebim reply'd aloud, with an Air of afTured Ignorance, " I know the Chaplain did that for us all ■" and thus fhe affedled to let all the Company know that fhe re- ceived a fecret Reproof, and defpifed the Reprover. Should it be granted here, that the Admonition was a httle ill-tim'd, yet it is certain the Reply was not a little infolent, nor a little irreligious.

W H I L E we were eating, one of the Guefts di- verted the Table with no improper Amufements; he entertain'd the Company with agreeable and facetious Difcourfe, but flill within the Rules of Religion and Decency.

The

66 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

T H E Diflies being withdrawn, and theTableun- cover'd, Serenus ftood iip to conclude his Oifice j Afe- hina openM her SnufF-box, and regaPd hcr Nofe, but AjebiGH employ'd himfelf with his Tooth-pick, and then fet himfelf in an Attitude to Vv^ait for, the Amen, that he might make his Honours gracefuUy to all the Table.

A F T E R Diiiner the Converfation turn'd upon the Subje£l of Saying Grace hefore and after Meat. When feveral of the. Company had given their Thoughts, Serenm acknowledged it was not neceflary to offer a folemn and particular Pctition to Heaven on the Occafion of every bit of Bread that we tafted, or wlien we drank a Glafs of Wine with a Friend ; nor was it expe£ted we fhould make a focial Prayer when Perfons each for themfelves took a flight Repaft in a running manner ; either the general Morning Devotion is fuppofed fufficient to recommend fuch tranfient Kdii^- ons and Occurrences to the divine Bleiling, or a fudden fecret Wifli fent up to Heaven in Silence, niight an- fwer fuch a Purpofe in the Chriftian Life : But when a whole Family fits down together to make a regular and ftated Meal, 'twas his Opinion, that the great G OD ftiould be folemnly acknowledged as the Giver of all the good Things we enjoy ; and the Pradice of our Saviour and St. Paiil had fet us an illuftricus Ex-

ample.

Afehion

in Prose aridVEKsr,. 6j

yifebion had not yet arrived at fuch Impiety, as to pronounce it a foolifti and fenfelcfs Cufliom ; but he de- clared his Sentiment with Freedom, that " we might *' all (hare enough in the Grace that was faid for a " Dinner, without putting on fuch a demure Coun- '* tenance, and fuch grave Airs, as if we were at ** Church in the midft oi DivineService.

P R o F A N E and foolifli Speech ! but 'tis hard to fay^ v/hether more fooHfh of more profane.

T E L L me, Afebicn^ is our addrefling the G o d of Heaven with Prayer and Praife.at Meals no part of Divine Service ? Is G o d ncvcr worfhipped but when it is done at Church? .Little do thefe Creatures think what a dangerous thing it is to trifle with an Al- mighty Being, even in the fmallefl A61 of Worfhip ! Did the great God evcr appoint Tooth-picks to be the facred tJtenfils of our asking a BlefTing on Food ? Or is a Cloud of SnufF the Incenfe that mufl afcend with this Prayer ? How thoughtlefs are thefe Mortals, and how unconcerned about the ferious and important Things of Rehgion ! They behave with fuch a re- gardlefs Air, as tho' Grace before Mcat were a needlefs old-fafhion'd Ceremony ; as tho' it were enough for the Chaplain to worfhip their Maker for the wholc Family, or that v/hcn they fpeak to the Majefly of Heaven for a BlefTing on their Food, there was no need ofacompofcd Countenance, or any Shew of Bo-

dily

6B Mtfcellaneous ThoitghtSi

dily Reverence. Yet Jfebm and JlfeM?ia every Morn- ing ask their Father's Bleffing on their Knees. A-Ie- thinks, I would ask them, IFhy fo falenmly cn your Kneesfor your Father's Blefftng, and fo utterly negligent of all Solemriity and outward Decencies, ivhen vou feck a Blefftng frorn God?'

A F T E R 'I had virritten this Paper, I lent it to a Friend, who put it into the Hands of Scdentius^ and dcfired liim to read it. In the perufal of it, he ieem'd pleafed, and gratified with tiie juft Reproof of fuch Irreligion, and fhew'd his Satisfailion by an approving Smile, till he came to the Clofe j there he paus'd a httle, and a grave dejefled Air fpread o\er his Coun- tenance : Well, faid he, *' I hope thcfe 3'oung Gen- *' try will learn to be more devout while the Provi- '* fions of the Table are blefs*d, but I take my Share '* alfo iH the Reproof j. nor will I praftife any more " Irreverence for time to come in thefe domeftick and " daily A<Ss of Worfhip : I and my Fathers before me ** have fat down to Meat thefe forty Years, and ne- '* ver asked a BlefTmg till after we were all fcated j '* but my Children fhall learn of me to renounce this *' Rudenefs, and ihall ftand up and adore the G o d " who made and feeds us, nor fhall our Seats nor our " Confciences upbraid us with fuch Indecency in our ** AddrefTes to the Living G o d.

XVIII.

in Prose andY^KSE. 6<)

XVIII. Y o u T H and D e a t h.

Tener Vitulus reJi^d

Matre qiti largis juve?iefcit herbis ■

In mea Vota : Fronte curvatos imitatus ignes Tertium Luna referentis ortumy ^id notam duxit Jiivcus videri,

Cetera fuhus.

HoRAT. Od. 2. Lib. IV.

TTT* H I L E we read thefe Lines oi Horace^ where- in he deicribes his young Yellow Calf with the white Crefcent in his Forehead, while he paints out the pretty Brute in meft agreeable Verfe, one is ready to feel a fort of fond Pity working in us, when we find that the Creature is deftin'd to fpeedy Sacrifice : The Poet himfelf, who devotes itsBlood to the Altar, yet feenis to dwell with a fort of Compaffion and mournful Pleafure on the Defcription of its Beauty and Sprightlinefs.

A Milk-white Mark, its fpreading Front adorns, Shap'd like a Moon of three Days old :

The Silver Curve divides its budding Horns, And all befides is Gold.

The

70 Mtfcellaneotis Thoughts,

The pretty Creature, wild in wanton Play, .^

Now frisks about the flowry Mead ; Loofc from the Dam, it knows no Grief to Day,

But muft To-morrow bleed.

Wh e n I fee the Youth of either Sex arriv'd at that Age, wherein Nature is juft rifen to its Elegance and Vigour,'and when they begin to fhew themfelves to the World, my Heart pities them, as (o many Borderers uponthe Grave ; yet moft of them are utterly thought- lefs of dying. Xittle do they imagine in thofe Years of Gaiety, Mirth, and Madnefs, that they are trea- furing up Vengeance to themfelves, by their thought- lefs Rebellion againft the Power that made them, Little do they think that their Lives are evcry Mo- ment due to the Juftice of G o d as a Sacrilice, each for their own Iniquity : Young Creatures, but bold Sinners ! They are wean'd from the Nurfery, they are got loofe from their Parent's Wing, and, like the Ro- »w?2 Poet's Calf, they vainly exult and riot in their- new Freedom ; they gad abroad in the wide World, wanton and lavifti in all the Delights which the Vi- gour of depraved Nature infpires. They know not how to bear the Checks of Picty, and the Reftjaints of Wifdom, nor will they endure the tendereft Admo- nitions of a Parent or an aged. Friend. They have no Apprehenfion of the Angel of Death near them, as tho' it was beyond the Reach of his Commiflion or the Flight of his Arrows to fmite any of their Station or

Cha-

r

/// Pro SE ^//^ Verse. yi

CharacSter. In tlie Morniiig of Nature they feel themfelves live, and they fancy 'tis Immortality.

EsPECiALLY if thcy are adorned with any peculiar Charms of Wit or Beauty, then the Flatteries of the Glafs, and their ow^n warm Imagination, the Complements and QirefTss of the Company that attend them, banifh all that is SoJemn or Serious : Thc en- chanting Allurements that furround their Senfes, rendei' them deaf to all the Warnings of G o d and Confciencet and thoughtlefs of every thing but the gay Succeflions of Pleafure. The Powers of Animal Life reign in thcm without controul, and they forget there is a Soul within them, or a G o d above them, or a Tri- bunal of Judgment at which they muft be ar- raign'd.

I N the midfl of this flowry Scene, Amelifiui was feized vvith a fudden Fever ; in three Days time it was heightened into a raging Dehrium, which gave no room for any Penitential Refleclions j and thus \x\. the Bloom of Nature, and full of the Sins of his Youth, he was furprized into Eternity : He feemed to be fingled out from the refl of his wild Aflbciates, and made a Viilim to Death, and to Divine Difplea- fure. A loudAIarm to fecure Sinners, and a flaming Warning-Piece to the Companions of his Guilt !

O u R Natural CompafTion drops fomc Tears of Humanity on the Grave of fuch a fine young Gentle- man j but the Divine Being that made him, is not

moved

71 Mifcellaneous Tboughts,

moved with thofe Prettinefles of Flefh and Blood, which cngage our Senfes, and melt our Hearts to Softnefs. What is a little Rofe-colour'd Skin and well-fet Limbs, in the Eyes of that Almighty Power that can create Millions of fuch beautiful Engines with his Breath, and deftroy them without Lofs ? Ten Thoufand gay Worms and Ihining Infefts arife hourly at his Command in a Summer's-Day : But if an Infe6l or a Worm afFront its Maker, our own Reafon would fentence it to immediate Death.

H A P P Y were fuch a Wretch as Amelijius.^ if he had been a mere Animal, and had nothing in him capable of Imniortahty. Happy had he been, if he were a Worm or a Ihining Infeft, or in all refpedls hke that pretty young Brute, which thePoet defcribes j then the Term of his mortal Life would have finifh'd his Exiftence : But thc Sin of Man and the Juftice of G o D demand the Sacrifice of a Soul ; his Rebeliion arofe againft Heaven ; he afFronted the infinite Maje- fty of his Creator, and fince he died witiiout Repen- tance, the Threatnings of the Bible doom him to everlafting Punifhment. Hcar this, young Sinners, who forget God, leji he tear you in pieces, and there k none to deliver yon, Pfal. li.

9

8

XIX.

in Prose ^«^Verse. 75

XIX.

B A B Y L o N dejiroyd ; or the i^yth P s A L M tranjlated.

TT A D Horace or Pindar written this O d e, it would have been the endlefs Admiration of the Critick, and the perpetual Labour of RivalTranfla- tors ; but 'tis found in the Scripture, and that gives a fort of Difguft to an Age which verges too much to- ward Infidelit}'. I could wifh the Mufe of Air. Pope would chufc out fome few of thefe Pieces of facred Pfal- fncdyy which carry in them the more fprightly Beau- ties of Poefy, and let the Englijh Nation know what a divine Poet fat on the Throne of IfraeL He has taken Homer'^ Rhapfodies, and turned them into fine Verfe and agreeable Entertainnoent ; and his admira- ble Imitation of the Hebrew Prophets, in his Poem cal- led The Meffiah, convinces us abundantly, how capa- ble he is of fuch a Service. This particular Pfahn could not well be converted into Cbri/iiamfy, and therefore it appears here in its 'Jeivif) Form : Th.e Vengeance denounced againft Babylen, in the Clofe o^ it, fhall be executed (faid a great Divinej upon y/////- chriflian Rome ; but he was perfuaded the Turks muft do it, for Protefiant Hearts, faid he, have too much Compaftion in them to embrue their Hands in fuch a bloody axid tcrriblt Execution.

E Wh £ K

74 Mifcellaneous Tljoughts,

I.

TT^HEN by the flowing Brooks we fat, The Brooks of Bahyhn the Proud 5 We thought on Zm's mournful State, And wept her Woes, .and waiPd aloud.

II.

Thoughtlefs of every chearful Air,

(For Grief had all our Harps unftrung)

Our Harps neglecled in Defpair, .And filent on the Willowi hung.

III. -Our Foes who made our Land their Spoil,

Our barbarous Lords, with haughty Tongues, Bid us forget our Gr.oans a-while,

And give a Tafte pf Zien's Songs,

IV.

How fhall we fmg in Heathen Lands

Our holy Songs to Ears profane ? Lord, fhall our Lips at their Commandi

Pronounce thy dreadful Name in vain ?

V.

Forbld it Heaven! O vile Abufe !

ZioH in Duft forbids it too : Shall Hymns infpir'J for facred Ufe

JBe fung . to pleafe a fcoffing Crevv l

VI. o

/;/ Prose and Verse. 75^

VI.

O let myTongue grow dry, and cleavc

Faft to my Mouth in Silcnce ftil], Let fome avenging Powcr bercave

My Fingers of their tuneful Skill,

VIL If I thy facred Rites profane,

O Salem, or thy Duft defpife ; If I indulge one chearful Strain,

Till I lliall fee thy Towers arife.

VIIL

Twas Edom bid the conquering Foe,

Doivti with thy Tovfrs^ and raze thy Walh : Requite her, Lord : But Bal>ely know, Thy Guilt for fiercer Vengeance calls.

IX.

As thou haft fpar'd nor Sex nor Age,

Deaf to our Infants dying Groans, May fome blefs'd Hand, infpir'd with Rage,

Dalh thy young Babes, and tinge the Stones,

E 2 XX. Ep

y6 Mifcellaneous Thoughts^

XX.

Epitaphium Monflri cujufdam,

Apud A N G L o s vulgo didli

B I G O T R Y,

Terras & Tenebris mandati. Autorc diu incognito, Viro Ingeniofo & vere Pio

JOHANNE ReYNOLDS^ I.

7 JIC jacft ( femperque jaceat f ) "*■ ■*" Pietatis Cadaver,

Lnprobitatis Corpus,

Religionis Larva, San^imoniiS Hoftis isf Umbra, Divini Imago Zeli, isf Pe/iis, Ecclejia Simia fmul ^ Lupus.

n.

Monftrum horrendum, informe, ingm, (ui lumen akmptum^ Romae Antiqua Natum, Nova in Tutelam Acceptum, In caligiwfs Vaticani //i^'^/Vj

i^umam

m P R o s E af}d V e r s e, jj

j^n E p I T A p H on B I G O T R Y,

TranJIated from the Latin, Whuh zvas written by the late Pims and Ing£)it9us

Mr, JoHN Reynolds,

And inferted in the O cc asi or^ al P a p e r>

m Ul Kumk 6»

I.

TT E R E lies f and may it here for ever lle ! ) ■*"*■ The Carcafsof dead Piety,

Shadow of Grace, fubftantial Sin,

Religious Mask and gawdy Drefs,

Thc Form and Foe of Holinefs, The Image and the Plague of Zeal divine. It's Dwelling was the Church i in ^ouble Shape, Half was a murdering Wolf, and half a mimick Apffi

n.

A Monfter horrid to the Sight, Hideous, deform'd, and void of Light ; 'Twas born at Rme^ 'Twas nurs'd at Home, In the dark CJoiftcrs of the Vatican j

E 3 1%

7^ Mtfcellaneous Thoughts^

Humano Smguine ijf Pulven Pyrio Nutritum^ SaginatMrh

IIJ.

HiipanicJE Ditisnis Incjolc^ GaHicis deinds ki^idnibm Hofpci-

J(vn dudum Gratijjifnm '^ Viteris quidm, Noviqus 'Orbis^ Hunwii Gmris U Cmmodt mfi

Pertgrimov ajfukm i

IV.

Lhigucmm utpotg qmrumcunqug PmtuSf Sexus itidem utriufqmParticeps, Mentium llluminator FlammeuSy Acutijfimus Dubitantium Du^or^, ^i LaqueiSy enfibus, incendiifque, rulu£tantiwn Anmarum Catervas Fe/finas in Coelum Amandaty Celerrimus Orbis Converfor. Confpirationum Exitialium, Verarum pariter ac Simulatm-um ( Mdi revera Machinarum infandi ) Ariifex dexterrimus.

V^ Ecclejia

m

Prose and Vers^e. 79

Its Lungs infpirM with heaving Lyes, Its Bulk well fatten'd to prodigious Size With Gun-Powder and Blood ofMan.

irr.

Ancient Inhabitant of Spaiti,

And long in France a welcome Gueft j Overthe Continent and Main, Over the Old World and the New, Mankind and Money to purfue, On Dragon^^s Wings the Harpy fiew, And gave its Feet no Reft.

IV.

AU Languages the Fury fpake,

And did of either Scx partake :

Flaming; Enlightner of the Mind,

And headlong Liader of the Blind, Oft has it dragg'd the doubtful Tongue to fpeak, While the pain'd Confcience left the Truth behind. By Gibbet, Sword and Fire,

It made whole Tribes of Men expire ; And to the Skies their groani»g Ghofts it iiurlVly

A fwift Converter of the World.

Dextrous in all the Arts of Blood ;

Skiird to contrive or counterfeit

Myftepious Mifchief, Plotts of Statc, Thofe murderous Engines to deftroy the Good.

The Mufe here tireirig, begs ihe Reader's Leave U relcafe berfelf from the BorJs and Lahours of Rhyme and Me-

E 4 tre

8o Mifcellaneoiis ThonghtSy

V.

Ecclefus fub nomine & cultu, Suh pelle Ovina & Fultu^

Libertatis penith Ecclefiaficcs^ Commercii pene CiviliSj Ac Societatis Humana

hdmiius Vafator ^ Pradc,

VI.

Jruius PoHtiSi PoHticifque, Critices nexibus, Logicaque flrophis^

Calarnorum^ Linguaque telis, Conciliorum, Ca?io?mmque Bombardis, Caierfque Gentis togata Armammtis

Bellator Infiru^ijfirnus,

VII.

Cui F?mr, ac Odium, ac Nefas, Fafufque ac feculi A?nor, Perjuria, Piaque Fraudes,

Truculenta Partium fhidia,

Implicita fidei, Tyrannidijque, Obfequii proinde Pajfivi,

Jgnora?itia ac Moria Enco?nia Cemites fuerunt Sok?ines.,

VIII. Cut

m

Prose audY-EK^t. 8r

'■'•e, by a mere hnitatm of the next Thirty Lhus in-

Pro/e.

V. Under the Name and Habit of tlie Church, Underthe Countenancc and Ciothing of a Shcei">j

It became the moft favage and rampant Plunderer and Wafter of human Societr, Made fearful Inroads on all civil Commsrce, And left religious Liberty expirijig.

VI.

A Warrior well furnifh'd With all Arts Politick andPolite, With the knotty Embaraflbients of Cnticifrnj The hampering Chains andSubtiltiesofLogick,

And the Javelins of Pen and Tongue, With the roaring Ordinance of Councils and Canons,- And all the Artillery of the Schools and Gown-.

vn.

Fury, Hatred and Mlfchief, Loveof this World, -Prideand Difdain, With Pcrjuries, Falihoods, and pious Fraud^,,.

And raging Part)'-Zeal, Were iis neceflary and everlafting Attendants.

High Encomiums and cndlefs Applaufe Of Guides infallible and Faith implicit,

Of hereditary and divine Right, Of Unlimited Power and Paflive Obedience

To Tyrant Priefts and Kings, With the wimortal Praife and Merit

E 5 Oi

tz Mifcellaneous ThoughtSy

VIII.

Cui Nuga^ Trkaque CaUtida, ^ifquilia, Dira, Exequiaque Bidla minantes, & bruta Fulmina^. Vota facrilega, ac Legeyida, Jecur Theologicwn, Bilifque

Afpera aque ac atra, Fofiipa Theatrales, Ritufque Obfokti funul ^ decentes, Cordi fuere ^ Cibg*.

IX.

Qrdinis ut phirhnum ClericaUsy Gregis potiffmiim Loyolitici Qlmgregationis praterea Veneranda De propagandd per orbem fide,, Coccinatus Antijies,

X. Nobilifjha.

^f ftupid Ignorance, and blind Submiffion, Were Hcrald^ to prepare its Way.

viir!

Trifles, and Trlcks, and lolcina Fooiei" „

Legends and filly Tales, Old Almanacks, and uiouldy mufty, Rell^ues, r

Sweepings of ancient Tombs, . Vows, PiJgrimages, Charms and Confecrations, Rites Obfolete, and Novel Ceremonies

Both decent and indecent, Monkifh and Superftitious Aufterities, With Words of Sacerdotal Abfolution,

And Sacerdotal Vengeance, Squibs, Crackers, Excommunications, Curfes,

Roaring BuUs and vain Thunders, Mixt up with Prieftly Choler, bitter and black,

V\^ere its delicious Food.

[Ngw Metre and Rhyme proceed,']

IX. A purple Prelate, chofen to prefide Over the whole Ignatlan Dro\c, And all the Clergy-Tribes befide, AU but the facred few that mix their Zeal ^vith Love.

In every difFerent Secl: 'twas known, It madc the Caflbck and thc Cowl its own, Now ftalk'd in formal >Cloke, now flutter'd in the

[Govn.

X. At

^4 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

X.

NohiTtJfimts Inquifitionh Curia, ( Sokrtijfima Hareticorum Mufdpula)

Primavus Fundator, ^ Prafes» jfmplij/imo Cardinalium Confeffui, Necnon SanSfiffimo S. R, Eccleftc^

P&tri Capitique A Secretioribus femper ConfiUis.

xr.

Chrifiiani infuper Orbis totius Tam per Orientales, quam Occidentalei Mundi phgas

Mifei-e fecum Militantis

( Et quid, quafi, Augufiius De maximo Heroum dicendmn F )

Antefgnanus femper Triumphans,

xir.

Infula Britannlcae Extraneis ah hofihus^ Pelagi manihus, necnon Navium Propugnaculis hene munita, Bonis praterea Domeficis, ^ia facris, qua Civilihus

(Bmi

/7/Prose andV^KSz. 8f X.

At what dark Hour fo e'er

The curft Divan at Rome were met,

Catholick Fate to propagate,

This Monfter fiird the Chair.

The Conclave dreft in Bonnets red,

With three-crown'd Tyrant at their Head,,

Made it their Privy-Councellor. The Inquifition Court (a Bloody Crew,

Artful to fet the folemn Trap

That lets no Heretick efcape) Owns it her Prefident and Founder too,

XI.

Oft as the Church in Eaji or TVeftern Lands

Rifing againft herfelf in Arms,

Li her own Bk>od imbru'd her Hands,

This Chief led on th' unnatural War,

Or did the bloody Standards bear, Or found the fierce Alarms j Vi£lorious ftill. (And what can mOre be faid Of all the living Warriors, or the Heroes dead \\

XIL

Britain, a Land well ftor'd with every Good, That Nature, Law, Religion givcs; A Land where facred Freedom thrives ;

Bleft Iflc ! If herown Weal ftie undeiftood !

Her

8 6 Mlfceiianeous Thotights,

( Bona fi tandem fua ncverit)

Omnium Fortunatijpnics ( Proh Dolor ! Proh Pudor ! ) Intefinm Divifor ^ Helluo,.

xiir

T fuge Viator, Malignum' Hujufce Sepukhri Vaporem !

Latare^ Fefina^ isf Ora. Ne Sphingi adeo nefandcs

Ullus in avum Rcfmr£^ionis Concedatur Lccus,.

/// P p. o s E and Ve r s e. 8

-Her Sons immur'd with guardian Oceans fleep,

And Caftles floating on the Deep, Fenc'd fromall foreign Fces, O Sliame ! O Sin ! Her Sons had let this baleful Mifchief in ; This hellifh Fury, who vvith flattering Breath

Did firft divide and then devour, And made wildWafte where e'er ftie fpread herPower Behold fhe meets her fatal Hour And Hes enchain'd in Death.

xnr.

Shout at the Grave, O Traveller ;

Triumphant Joys thatreach the Skies

Are here thejufteft Obfequies : Shout thrice ; then flee afar The poys'nousSteams and Stenches of theSepulchre :

Go, turn thy Face to Heaven, and pray, That fuch a hateful Monfter never may

Obtain a Refure<^ion-Day.

XXI. 7he.

BS MifcellaneoTis Thoughts-^

XXI.

The Death <?/La2arus.

TXT^HAT a wondrous Difference there is betwixt the Soul and the Body of a poor diftrefled, dy- ing Chriftian r His Fkih perhaps with Lazarui is fuU of Difeafes, and in a few Moments time it lies dead upon the Dunghill ; a noifome Carcafe ! an unlovely and offenfive Sight ! then, as tho' it were unworthy for tlie Earth to bear it, 'tis thrown under Ground to rot in Darknefs, as a Companion and Food for Worms : But his Soul (like one of the Lamps of Gidecn fhining out at Alidnight from a broken Pitcher) appears imme- diately in its native Brightnefs and Beauty, as a Crea- ture born of Heaven, and akin to G OD ; it is taken up as an honourable Burden for the Wings of Angels ; it is fwiftly convey'd above the Heavens, and made a Companion for all the Sons of -G o D in Glory. Luke xvi. 20,22, Judgesvn. 16, r^.

L E T us take a diftincl Review of each of thefe different Circumftances of the Flefh and Spirit, and fet them in a juft Light and in due Oppofition.

The

in

Prose andV 's.ViS^. 89

T H E Body with all Its Bonds and Nerves lies dead and movelefs, a denio]ifh'd Prifon and broken Fet- ters ; the Soul all Life and Vigour, a Prifoner relea- (cd from all its Chains, and exulting in glorious Li- berty.

T H E Body an unworthy Load of Earth ; the Soul a Burden fit for an AngePs Wing.

T H E Body thrown under Ground and hid in Darknefs ; the <Soul rifing above the Skies, and ftii- ning there in Gyirmeflt& ef Light.

T H E Body the Entertainment and the Contempt of Worms ; the Soul proper Company for Chri/l and his Saints.

W A s it not a Stroke of Divine Love that demo- ]i{h'd t!ie Prifon-houfe, and releas'd the Captive ? that broke the dark earthen Pitcher, and bid the Lamp, t^fear andjhine ?

■^?^

2M vTr J h

XXII. An

90 Mifcelhneotis Thoughtf^

XXII.

^;/ H Y M N tO C H R I S T J E S U S^

The Eternal Llfe. I.

■ H E R E fliall the Tribes of Adam find The fovereign Good to fill the Mind ? Ve Sons ©f' Mor^il VVlrdom, fliow The Spring whenee living Waters flow.

n.

Say, will the ^toich fljnty Heart Meit, and this cordial Juice impart ? Could Pkto find thefe blifsful Streams^, Araongft his Raptures and his Dreams ?

III.

\\\ vain I ask ; for Nature's Power Extends but to this mortal Hour : ■'Twas but a poor Relief (he gave Againft theTerrors of the Grave.

IV. Jes u s,- our Kinfman, and our GoD>, Array'd in Majefty and Blood i

in Prose and Verse. 91

Thou art our Life ; our Souls in Thee Poirefs a fuU Felicity.

V. AIl our immortal Hopes are lald InThee, our Surety, and our Head ; Thy Crofs, thy Cradle, and thy Thronc, Are big with Glories yct unknown.

VI.

Let Athe'if\i fcoff, and Jewi blafpheme Th* Eternal Life, and J e sus' Namej A Word of his Almighty Breath Deomi the rebdliousWprld te DeaUn

VIL

But let my Soul for ever lie Beneath the Bleflings of thine Eye ; 'Tis Heaven on Earth, 'tis Heaven above, To fee thy Face, to tafte thy Love.

XXIIL

DlSTANT ThUNDER.

TT7 H E N, we hear theThunder rumbhng in fome dirtant Qiiartcr of the Heavens, v.e fit calm and fecure amidft our Bufincfs or Divcrfions, we feel no Tcrrors about us, and apprehend no Danger,- When we fee the flender Streaks of Lightning play afar off in

g% Mifcellaneous Thoughts^

the Horlzon of an Evening Sky, we look on and< amufe ourfelves as with an agreeable Spedlacle, with- out the leaft Fear or Concern. But, lo, the dark Cloud rifes by degrees, it grows black as Night, and big with Tempeft j it fpreads as it rifes to the Mid- Heaven, and now hangs dire£lly over us ; the Flafhes of Lightning grow broad and flrong, and like Sheets of ruddy Fire, they blaze terribly all round the Hemi- fphere. We bar the Doors and Windows and every A\'enue of Light, but we bar them all in vain ; the Flames break in at every Cranny, and threaten fwift DeflruiSlion. TheThunder follows, burfting from. the Cloud wlth fudden and tremendous Crafhes ; the Voice of the Lord is redoubled with Violence, and over- whelms us with Terror j it rattles over our Heads, as tho' the whole Houfe were broken down at once with a Stroke from Heaven, and were tumbling on us amain to bury us in the Ruins. Happy the Soul whofe Hope in his G o D compofes all his PafTions amidft thefe Storms of Nature, and renders his whole Deportment peaceful and ferene amidft the Frights and Hurries of weak Spirits and unfortify'd Minds.

W H A T Leftbn fhall we derive from fuch a Scene as this ? Methinks I fee here in what manner th^ Terrors of the Book of G o d and the Threat- nings of divine Vengence are receiv'd an^ entertain'd by fecure Sinners. Thefe Threatnings appear to them like Streaks ofLightningafarofF: The moft dreadful Prediaions of the Fury of G o d found in their Ears

biU

in PROSE and Verse. 93

but like the feeble Murmurs of the Sky, and far di- ftant Thunder. The Poor among Mankind go on to purfue their Labours of Life, and the Rich their vain Amufements ; they have no Fear about thefe future Storms afar ofF, nor any Solicitude to avoid them. But the Hour is haftening when every Threatning in the Bible fhall appear to be the Voiceof G od, and his Power fhall employ all the terrible Things in the Crea- tion for the Accomplifhment of his dreadfui Word. The Wings of Time bring onward the remote Tem- peft : Thefe dark Clouds unite and grow big with di- vine and eternal Vengeance ; they rife high, they hang over the Nations, and arc juft ready to be difcharg'd on the Headof Impenitents. The G o d of Thun- der will roar from Heaven, and caufe his Voice to be heard through the Foundations of the Earth, and to •the very Centre of Hell. The Spirit of the haugh- tieft Sinner fhall tremble with unknown Aftonifhment, and the Man of Mockery fhall quiver to his very Soul. The Lightnings of G o d fhall kindle the World into one vaft Conflagration ; the Earth, with all its Forefts and Cities fhall make a dreadful Blaze j the Enemies of the Lord fhall be Fuel for this devouring Fire, and a painful Burning fhall be kindled in their Confciences, which innumerable Agcs fhall not extinguifh. JVho can dive/l iviih this devourini Fire ? Who can endure thefe everlajiing Burnings ?

B L E s s E D Souls, who in a wife and happy Hour have heard thefe divine Warnings, who ftood in Awe

of

94 Mijcellaneous Thonghts^

of thefe diftant Thunders, and reverenced and obey*d the Voice of the Lord in them. Bleffed Souls, who beheld thc Flafhes of ihe Wrath of G o D while they were yet afar ofF ; who faw them kindling terribly in the Threatnings of the broken Law, and fled for Re- fuge to the Hope fet before tliem in the Gofpel ! they are divinely fecur'd amidft the Promifes of the Cove- nant of Grace, from all the Approaches of the fiery Indignation. Jesus has fprinkled his own Blood upon 'em ; a fovereign and preventive Remedy againft thefe Terrors, a fure and e<"ernal Defence againfl the Power of the deflroying Angei and the burning Tem- pefl. Their Feet fiallJJand on high, their Hahitation is n Miimtion of Rocks ; thcy (hall live fecure and rejoice in their G o d amidfl the Ruins of the lower Creation.

XXIV.

DavidV Lamentation over Saul and Jonathan, 2 Sam. i. 19, ^c.

'T^ H E "Jews were ac^uainted with feveral Arts and Scieoces long e're the Romam became a People, or the Greeks were known among the Nations. Tho* Mofes might learn fome of them in his Egyptian Edu- cation, yetr perhaps others were taught by G o d himi felf, amidfl their Travels m the Wildernefs, when

they

in P R o s E and V e r s e. 95-

they form'd fuch a wonderful portable Strudure as the Tabernacle, and wrought fuch Garments of exquifite Glory and Beauty to adorn the High Prieft in his fa_ cred Miniftrations. Nor is it unlikely that Mofei in- troduced among them the Jrt of Veife ; for the moft ancient Poetical Compofures which are known in the World, are the i^th Chapter of Exodus, wheie he triumphs over Phavaoh and his Army, the poth Pfahr. where he defcribes the Frailty and Mifery of Human Life, and the 3 zd of Deutremmy^ where he leaves be- hind him a noble divine Ode at his Death, for the per- petual Memory of G o d and his Wonders.

T H E next remarkable Inftance we have of this lcind , are the Writings of Daiid^ the fweet Pfalmift of Ifrael ; but e^'en David could never be fuppofed to borrow any thing from the Greeh^ when Hojiter^ the Father of their Verfe, was fuppofed to be but a Con- temporary with Solomon the Son of David. If tlie Greeh had been acquainted with the Songs of Mofcs^ which I ha\'e mention'd, or the Rcmam had e\ei known the Odes of David, and amongft the reft this admirable Elegy, they wouW never have fpoke of thc yezus with fo much Contempt, as a rude and barbarcus People ; at leaft: I am perfuaded their Poets would have conceived a much better Opinion of them, when they found them fo far exceed any thing that their own Nations had ever produced, I believe I might fairly challenge all the Antiquity of the Heathens to prefent 4JS with aa Odc gf morc beautiful Sentiments, and

greatcr

^6 MifcellaneousThonghts,

greater Elegancy, than this Lamentation over Saul and "Jonathan. 'Tis rehearfed in the Scripture indeed, but perhaps not written by Infpiration, for there is fcarce any thing of G o d or Religion in it. David the mere Man was a fubhme Poet, and G o d made him a Prophet.

I H A V E feen it feveral times in an EngliJ}) Drefs,A but none of them have given me any more Satisfa6lion, than perhaps I fhall give to thofe who read mine. 'Twas a mere Admiration of this Hebrew Song that fet my Imagination at work, in this Attempt to imitate.

1 s H A L L here firft tranfcribe it from the Scripture, tho' it is impoflible that it fliould appear at this dillance •of Time, and in our Lanquage, with half the Luftre in which it ftood in that Age and Nation when it was written.

2 Sam. i. 17. j^nd David lamented with this Lamen- iation over Saul, and over Jonathan hii Son.

19. ne Beaiity ij/^Ifrael /; Jlain upsn thy high Places ; Hoiv are the Mighty fallen !

20. Tell it not in Gath, pubJifl} it not in the Streets of Askelon, UJl the Daughters of the PhiUftines rejoice, leji the Daughters of the uncircumcifedtriumph.

7.1. Te Mountains of Gilboa, let there be m Dew, nei-

ther let there be Rain upon you, nor Fields of Offerings •'

for there the Shield of the Mighty is vilely caji away, the

Shield of Saul, as tho' he had not been aminted with

Oil '^

22. Frm

in P R o s E and V e r s e. 97

22. From the Blood of the Sbhi, from the Fat of the Mighty^ the Bm of Jonathan turned not back, and the Sivtrd i^-^Saul retiirned not empty.

23. Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleafant in their Lives^ and in their Death they wtre not divided j thy were fivifter than Eagles^ they were Jlronger than Lyons. ,

24. Te Daughters of Ifrael, weep over Saul ivho chthed you in Scarlet with other Delighis, who pui on Or- naments of Gold upon your Apparel.

25. How are the Mighty fallen in the midfi of the Baf- tle ! O Jonathan, thou wert fain in thy high Places.

26. / am dijhefjed for thee^ my Brother Jonathan ; very pkafant hafi ihou been unto me ; ihy Love to me wa^ iconderfu/y pajjing the Love ofWomen.

27. Howare the Mighty fallen^ and theWeapons ofWar perijh^d !

Paraphrased thm.

I.

TTNhappy Day ! diftreiring Sight ! Ifrael^ the Land of Heaven's elight, How is thy Strength, thy Beauty fled ! On the high Places of the Fight Behold thy Princes fall'n, thy Sons of Viaory dead,

II.

Ne'er be it told in Gath^ nor known Amgng the Streets of Jskelon :

F Kov^

^S MifielUneous ThoughtSy

How will Philijiia^t Youtli rejoice

And triumph in our Shame, And Girls with weak uniiallowed Voice Chant the Difhonours of the Hebrew Name !

IIJ.

Mountains of Gilha, let no Dew Nor fruitful Showers defcend on you : Curfe on your P^ields thro' all the Year ! No flow'ry Bleffings there appear, Nor golden Ranks of Harveft ftand

To grace the Altar, or to feed the Land. 'Twas in thofe inaufpicious Fields Judem Heroes loft their Shields :

^Twas there (Ah bafe Reproach and Scandal of the Day !) Thy Shield, O Saul, was caft away,

As tha' the Prophet's Horn had never fhed Its facred Odours on thy Head.

IV.

The Sword of Scml had ne'cr till now

Awoke to War in vain, Nor Jomthan withdrawn his Bow

Without an Army (lain. Where Truth and Honour mark'd their Way, Not Eagles fwifter to their Prey, Nor Lyons fixong or bold as they.

V.

Graceful in Arms and great in War WciQ Jomthan and Saul,

Pleafant

/;^ P R o s E and V e r s e. 99

Pleafant in Life, and Manly fair ; Nor Death divides the Royal Pair, And Thoufands fhare their Fall. Daughters of Ifrael^ melt your Eyes To fofteft Tears, and fwcll your Sighs, Difrob'd, difgrac'd your Monarch lies Qn tJie blcak Mountains, Pale and Cold : He made rich Scarlet your Array ; Bright wcre your Looks, your Bofoms gay With Gems of regal Gift, and interwoven Gold,

VT.

How are the Princes funk in Death ! Fairn on the fhameful Ground \ Fhcre my own Jonathan refign'd his Breath ;

On the high Places where he ftood,

He loft his Honours and his Blood ; Oh execrable Arm that gave the raortal Wound ?

vn.

My Jonathan^ my better Part, My Brother, and (that dearer Name) my Friend, I feel the mortal Wound that reach'd thy Heart, And here my Comforts end.

How Pleafant was thy Love to me !

Amazing Paflion, ftrong and frce ! No Dangers could thy fteddy Soul rcmove : Not the foft Virgin loves to that degree, Nor Man tothat degree does the foft Virgin love.

F 2 Tc

xoo MifceUaneous TJmights,

To name my Joys, awakes my Pain ; The dying Friend runs cold thro' every Vein j

My Jcnathan^ my d)-ing Friend,

How thick^my Woes arife ? where will my Sorrows

[end ? VIII.

Unhappy Day ! diftreiling Sight I

Ifrael, the Land of Heaven's Delight, How are thy Princes falPn, thy Sons of Vi<5lory flain!

The broken Bow, the fhiver'd Spear,

With all the fully'd Pomp of War, In rude Confufion fpread,

Promifcuous lie among the Dead, A lamentable Rout o'er all the inglorious Plain.

XXV.

The Skeleton.

'^ O U N G Tramariniis was juft returned from his Travels abroad, when he invited his Uncle to his i-odgings on a Saturday Noon ; his Uncle was a fub- ftantial Trader in the City, a Man of fmcere Good- nefs, and of no contemptible Underftanding ; Crato ■was his Name. The Nephew firft entertain'd him with Learned Talk of his Travels. The Cojiverfa- tion happening to falF upon Anatomy, and fpeaking pf th<i jffaidf hc inention'd the Carpus smd Metacarpus,

the

m

P ROSE /?;//Verse. ioi

the joining of the Bones by many hard Names, and the Pcrio/lecn which covered them, together with other Greek Words which Crato had never heard of, Then hc fhewed him a few Curiofities he had colleded ; but Anatomy being the Subjecft of their chief Difcourfe, he dwelt much upon theSkeletons of aHare and aPai- tridge : " Obferve Sir, faid he, how firm thejoints ! how •* nicely the Parts are fitted to each other ! How pro- " per this Limb for Flight, and that for Running ! *' and how wonderful the whole Compofition !" Crato took dtie Notice of the mofl confiderable Parts of thofy Animals, and obferved the chief Remarks that his Ne- phew made ; but being detain'd there two Hours witli - out a Dmner, afTuming a pleafant Air, he faid, *' I wifh ** thefe Rarities had Flefh upon tbem, for I begin to " be hungry, Nephew, and you entertain me with ** nothing but Bones." Then he carryM home his Nephew to Dinnerwith him, and difmifs'd the Jefl,

The next Morning his Kinfman Tramarinm defired him to hear a Sermon at fuch a Church, for Pm inforrn* ed, faid he, the Preacher will be my old School-mafler. It was Agrotes^ a Country Minifter, who was to fuliil the Service of the Day ; an honefl, a pious, and an ufeful Man, who fed his own People Weekly with Divin^ Food, compofed his Scrmons with a Mixture of the Inftrudive and the Pathctick, and deliver'd them with no impropcr Elocution. Whcreany Difficulty appear'd in the Text or the Subjea, he ufually explain'd it in a vcry njitural and eafy Manner, to the underftanding of

t' 3 all

loz Mifcellaneous . Thonghts,

all his Pariihoners ; he paraphrafed on the mofl: afFecr- ing Parts largely, that he might ftrike the Confcience of ev'rv Hearer, and had been the happy Means of the Salvation of many : But he thought thus v/ith himfelf, *' Whenl preach ^ALondon, I have Hearersof a wifer *' Rank, I mufl feed them with Learning and fubflan- *' tial Senfe, and muft have my Difcourfe fet thick *' with diflindl Sentences and new Matter." He con- trived therefore to abrid^e his Compofures, and to throw fbur of his Country Sermons together to make up onc for the City, and yet he could not forbcar to add a lit- tle Gnek m the beginning : He told the Auditors how tiic Text was to be explain'd, he fet forth the Arialyfis «f the Words in ordcr, {hew'd the Hoti and the Dictiy (i. e. that it was fo, and tvhy it was fo) with much learned Criticifm, (all which he wifely left out in the , Country.j) then he pronounced the Do6lrine difltincll}', . and iiUed up the refl of the Hour with the mere Rehear- fal of the General and Special Heads : But he omit- ted all the Amphiication which made his Performances in the Country fo clear and fo intelligible, fo warm and afFedling. In fhort, it was the mere Joint» and Carcafs of a long Compofure, and contain'd above for- ty Branchesin it. The Hearers had no timeto con- fider or reflect on the good Things which were fpoken, or apply them to their own Confciences ; the Preacher hurry'd their Attention fo fafl onward to new Matters, that they could make no ufe of any thing he fliid while he fpoke it, nor had they a Moment for Re-

fledlion.

in Prose and Verse. 105

Hcdtion in order to fix it in their Memories, and im- prove by it at home.

T H E young Gentleman was fomewhat out of Countenance wlien the Sermon was done, for he mirs'd all that Life and Spirit, that pathetick Am- plification which imprefs'd Jiis Confcience when he was but a School-boy : Hov/ever he put the befl Face upon it, and began to commend the Performancc " Was it not (faid he) Sir, a fubftantial Difcourfe ?' " How well connefted were all the Reafons ; how ** ftrong the Inferences, and what a Variety and " Number of them r" 'Tis true (faith thc Uncle) but yet methinks I want Food here, and I find notJiing but Bones again. I could not have thought, Nephcw> you would have treatcd me two Days togcther jufl a- like ; Yefterday at Home, and to Day at Churcli^ the firft Courfe was Greek, and all the reft mere Ske- Uton,

XXVI.

WoRDS wtthout Spirit.

'CME RA was much difpleafed with her Maid-Ser-

vantj for fome Pieces of grofs ill Condudl iii'

Domeftick Aftairs. The Occafion of her Difplea-

iare was great and juft, but flie had not the Spi-

F 4 ri(f

I04 Mifcellaneous Thovghts,

rit of Reproof. Crlton the Partner of her Life, hap- pening then to be in his CJofet, fte went up and made her Complaints there j he intreated hcr to ex - cufe him from the Oeconomy of the Kitchen and thc Parlour : 'Twas all entirely under her Dominion, and if her Maids were fo culpable, fhe muft reprove them fharply : " Alas, faid Ihe, I cannot chitfe ; '* however, to fhew my Refentment, if you will " write down a Chiding, ril go immediately and « read it to them." This is no Fable, but Hiftory. Now what better Improvement can be made of it, than to make a Parable like it ?

Le£lorm is a pious Man, and worthy Miniflcr in a Country Parifti ; his Difcourfes are well formed, his Sentiments on almoft every Subjeft are juft and proper, his Stile is Modern and not Unpolite, nor does he utterly negled the Paifions in the Turn of his Compofures : Yet I cannot call him a good Prcacher> ibr he does not only ufe his written Notes to fe- curc his Method, and to relieve his Memory, which is a very proper and ufeful Pra6lice, but he fcarce cver takes his Eyc ofF from his Book to addrefs himfelf with Life and Spirit to the People : For this Reafon, many of his Hearers fall afleep ; the reft of them fit from January to Bsceinber^ regardlcfs and un- concern'dj an Aire of Indolence reigns through thc Faces of his Auditory, as if it werc a Matter of no Importance, or not addrefs'd to them, and his A^Ii- niftfauvns have little Power or Succefs.

In

m

Prose and Verse. 105-

I N his laft Sermon he had an Ufe of Reproof for nie Vices which were praftifed in a publick and iliamelefs manner in his Parifh, and as the Apoftle required Timothy to reprove fuch Sinners before all, fo he fuppofed that thefe Sins, at leaft, ought not to efcape a pubhclc Rebuke. The Paragraph was well drawnup, and indeed it was animated with fome juft and aweful Severities of Language ; yet he had not Courage enough to chide the Guilty, nor to animate ])is Voice with. any juft degree of Zeal. However, thegood Man did his beft, he went into the Pulpit and read them a Chiding.

H I s Condu£l is juft the fame when he defigns his Addrefs in his Paper to any of the fofter Paflions; for by the Coldnefs of his Pronunciation, and keeping his^ Eye ever fixed on his Notes, he makes very Httle Im- preffion on his Hearers. When he ftiould awaken fenfelefs and obftinate Sinners, and pluck them as Brands out of the Burning, he only reads to them out of his Book fome Words of Pity^ or perhaps z. Ufe of Terror ; and if he would lament over their Impeni- tence and their approachlng Ruin, he can do no more than read them a Chapter of Lamentation.

SiNCE there are fo many of the Kindred of

Lenmm in our Nation, 'tis no Wonder that fome of

them arife to vindicate the Family and their Prac-

tice. Do not the EngUJJ} Sermons, fay they, excced

F 5 thofe

io6 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

thofe of other Nations, becaufe they are compofed with fo much Juftnefs and Accuracy, and by careful Reading, they are delivered with great Exadlnefs to the People, without trufting one Sentence to the Frailty of the Memory, or the Warmth of fuddcn Imagi- nation ?

I A M fure it may be reply'd, that if the Eftg- iijh Sermons exceed thofe of our Neighbours, the EngliJ]} Preachers would cxceed therafeh'es, if they would learn the Art of Reading by the Glance of an ^)'^, fo as never to interrupt the Force of their Ar- gument, nor the Vivacity and Pathos of their Pronun- ciation j or if they made themfelves fo much Mafters t)f what they had written, and dehvered it with fuch Life and Spirit, fuch Freedom and Fcrvency, as tho* 'iX. came all frefh from the Head and the Heart. 'Tis hy this Art of Pronouncing, as well as by a warm Compofure, that fome of the French Preachers reign over their AfTemblies, like a Cicero or a De?7ioJihene5 of old, and that with fuch fuperior Dignity and Power,. as is feldom feen now a-Days in an Englifi AudiencCy whatfoever Efteem may be paid to our Writings.

A Pa ? E R with the moft pathetic Lines written upon it, has no Fear nor Hope, no Zeal or Compaf- fion j 'tis confcious of no Defign, nor has any Solici- tude for the Succefs j and a mere Reader, who coldly tells the Pcople what his Paper fays, feems to be as void of all thefe neceilary Qualifications, as his Pa- pcr is.

XXVIL. The.

m Pr 0 s E (111 d V E R s E. rc7

XXVII.

The C H u R c H - Ya r d.

'TTTHEN I enter into a Church-Yard, I lovs

to converfe with the Dead. See how thick the^

Hillocks of Mortah'ty arife all around me, each of them

a Monument of Death, and the Covering of a Son or

Daughter of Ada^n. Perhaps a Thoufand or Ten

'Thoufand Pieces of Human Nature, Heaps upon*

. Heaps, lie buried in this Spot of Ground ; 'tis the old

Repofitory of the Inhabitants of the neighbouring

Town ; a Colle£tion of -the ,Ruins of many Ages^

and the Rubbifli of Twenty Generations.

I s A Y within myfelf, What a Multitude of Hu- nan Beings, noble Creatures, are here reduced to Duft ! G o D has broken his own beft Workmanfhip to pieces, and demolifli'd by Thoufands the finefl- earthly Struclures of his own building. Death has en- tered in, and reigned over this Town for many fuccef- fivc Ccnturies ; it had its Commiflion from God, and it has dcvourcd Multitudes of Men.

S H o u L D a Stranger make the Enquiry which is exprefs'd, Deuf. xxix. 24. JVhcrefore has the Lord ^m thus to thg ^Vork of Jiis own Hands ? PFhat

nuanetf'

io8 Mifcellaneous ThougbtSy

meaneth the Heat of this great Anger ? The Anfwer is ready, Ver, 25, &c. Becaufe they have fnned^ they have forfahn the Covenant of the Lord God, therefo'e the Lord has rcoted them out of their Land in Anger,, and in IVrath, and in great Indignation, and hath caft them in- to another Land, even the Land of Corruption and Darknefs, as it is at this Day.

BuT have not otherTownf, Cities and Villages their Church-yards too ? MyThoughts take the Hint and flyAbroad through all the Burying-places of the Nations. What Millions of Mankind lie undcr thc Ground in Urns, or mingled with common Clay ? Every ancientTown and City in the World has burnt or buried all its Inhabitants more than Thirty times over : What wide fpreading Slaughter, . what lamenta^ b!e Defolation, hasDeath madeamong the Children of Men ! But the Vengeance is juft in all ; each of them are Sinners ; and the Anger of Gcd hath kindled againj} them to bring upon them the firft Curfe that is written in his Book, In the Day that. thcu finneft, thou Jhalt fureJy die^ Gcn. ii. 17.

G o to the Church-yard then, O fmful and thoughtlefs Mortal, go learn from every Tomb-ftone aiid every rifmg Hillock, that The JVages of Sin is Death. Le:rn in Silence among the Dead, that Lefibn which infinitely concerns all the Living ; nor let thy Keart be ever at reft till thou art acquainted witli J £ s u s, ivho is the Refurre^ion and ihe Life.

XXVIII. To.

in Prose and Verse. 109

XXVIIL

Ti?^?pAiNTER refiorlng an old Tii^ure, .

S I R,. TTTHEN you take a Review of the former La- bours of your Pencil, and retouch the Features of Tdalio vvith fo skilful a Hand, you remove the brown Vail which rolling Years had fpread over them, and brighten all the Piece into its early Form and Loveli- nefs. There rifes a frefh Vigour upon the Looks, and the Spirit of the Poet is infufed agairi- into the Image of our aged Friend. We fee and wonder how the Eyes refume their Youth and Fire ; what a Genius glows in the Countenance ; and new Light and Life are fcatter'd over all the Shadow of the Man, who himfelf is hafting to Death and Darknefs,

O c o u L D you renew all the living Originals, and recover them from the Deformations and Dif- graces of Time, as eafily as your Pencil . calls their Pourtraits back again from Age, you would. be the firft Man in, the Univerfe- for Wealth and, Fame. Even.the grofleft SenfualLft, who is ftrongly attach'd to his Cups and his Amours, would relinquifh them both to make his Way to your Hand, and offer all the Remnant of his Patrimony for a Caft of your Favour : .

Aurato^

1 1 o Mifcellaneous Thoughtr,

Aurato^ the decrepit Mifer, would bring his Mines of Gold, and lay them at your Foot ; while his Daughter ^iadrillay in her Fortieth Year, throws down her Cards in hafte to increafe the Crowd at your Door, and entreat the Bleffings of your Art.

B u T Nature (alas !) hath fixed the Limits of Youth, Beauty and Vigour ; narrow Limits indeed ! and whenoncepafs'd,theyare unrepafTable. Thebroken Lines of an ancient Painting may be reunited and grow ftronff, the Features may rife round and elevated, and the Colours glow again with fprightly Youth j but cur real Form grows cold and pale, it fmks, it flattens, it withers into Wrinkles ; the Decay is refiftlefs and perpetual, and Recovery hes beyond the Reach of Hope. This Shadow of Idalio^ touched by your Pen- cil, lives again, and will fee another Age, but the Subftance dies daily, and is ready to drop into the Duft.

T o this Point of Mortality, fmce 'tis certain and inevitable, let us often diredt our Eyes ; let our fcatter'd Thoughts be recolIe6ied from all their Wan- drings, and pay a daily Vifit to Death. Acquaintance with it ifi the Light of Chriftiaiiity, will difpel its darkeft Terrors ; and fince Idalio and Jpelks, Poets and Painters, with all their fprightly Airs, are borne away with the reft of Mankind by the fweeping Tor- rent of Time, let us hold the Period of Life ever m cur YiQW) lct us all keep our Spirits awake, and guard

agaijiii

in pROSE and Yv.KS-E. iii

againft a Surprize. O may your Soul and mine never ftart back from the gloomy Gate which opcns a Paf- fage into the World of Spirits ! We know we muft, leave our Flefli behind us in the Grave ; and there let it lie till it hath finiflied the Tirae of its appointed Pu- rification ; let it lie and refine from all the Dregs of Sin and fenfual Impurities ; let it wait for the Beams of the laft Morning, and falute the Dawn of the grcat Rifing Day. Glorious and furprifing Day in- deed, for the Reftoration of all the Orlginalsof Man- kind, when Paintings and Shadows fhall be no more ! Blefied Hour, when our Duft, at the crea- ting Call of Heavcn, fliall ftart up into Man; it fliall glow with ncw Life and immortal Colours, fuch as Nature in her gayeft Scenes hath never dif- play'd, fuch as the Dreams of Poets were never able to reprefent, nor the Pallet of Titian cver knew.

XXIX.

Ou the Sight of ^een M a r y, m the Tear i6^^.

I.

T Saw th' IUuftrious Form, I faw Bcauty that gave thc Nations Law : Her Eyes, like Mercy on a Throne, In condefcending Grandeur fliQiie.

II,. That

III MifcellaneousThoitghts^ II.

That blooming Face ! how lovely fair Hath Nature mix'd her Wonders there ! The rofy Morn fuch Luftre fhows Glancing along the Scythian Snows.

III.

Her Shape, her Alotion, and her Mein, AU heavenly ; fuch are Angels feen, When the bright Vifion grows intenfe, And Fancy aids our feebler Senfe.

IV.

Earth's proudeft Idols dare not vie With fuch fuperior Majefty ; A kindling Vapour might as foon Rifefrom the Boggs, and mate the Moon.

V.

I'll call no Raphad from his Reft ; Such Charms can never be exprefs'd : Pencil and Paint were never made To draw pure Light without a Shade.

VI.

Britain beholds her Queen with Pride, And mighty W i l l i a m at her Side Gracing the Throne, while at their Feet With humble Joy Three Nations mect.

VII. Seciue

in P R 0 s E atid Verse. 113 VII.

Secure of Empire, fhe might lay Her Crown, her Robes, and State away, And 'midft Ten Thoufand Nymphs be feen : Iler Beauty would proclgim the Queen .

Epanorthosis,

VIII. Her Guardlan Angel heard my Song. Fond Man, (he cry'd) forbear to wrong My lovely Charge. So vulgar Eyes Gaze at the Stars, and praife the Skies.

IX.

Rudely they praife, who dwell below, And Heaven's true Glories never know, Where Stars and Planets are no morc Than Pebbles fcatter'd on the Floor.

X.

So, where celeftial Virtues joinM

Form an incomparable Mind,

Crowns, Scepters, Beauties, Charms and Aire,

Stand but as fhining Servants there.

XXX. On

114 Mtfcetlaneous Thoughts^

> XXX.

On the Effigies of his Royal Htghnefs,

G E o R G E, hte Prince of D e nm akk, and Lord High Admiral of Great-Britain, made in Wax, and feated at a Banquet near the Effigies of her late. Majejly ^ieen A n n e.

Jll happily perfarm^ d in a very ncar hnitation of the Life, by^^C UKY sis. 1705.

C O Iook'd the Hero, coming from the Board

Of Naval Counfels, and put ofF his Sword. So fat the Prince, when with a fmiling Air He relifh'd Life, and pleas'd his Sovereign Fair, Surprifing Form ! fcarce with a fofter Mein Did his firft Love addrefs his future Q_u e e N. Publifli the Wonder, Fame.* But O ! forbear T' approach the Palace and the Royal Ear, Left her impatient Love and wifliing Eye Seek the dear Image, gaze, and mourn, and dic. Or ftay : The Royal Mourner will believe Her G E o R G e reftor'd, and fo forget to grieve. What cannot Chryfs do ? Thofe artful Hands Shall raife the Hero : Lo, in Arms he ftands :

* This Poem was written juji aftcr Prince G e 0 R c eV Deaih.

Fajr bou rn

if/ Prose andVEKSE. 115:

FAiRBOURN*andLEAK* fubmiflive fhall efpy War on his Brow, and Orders in his Eye, Aufpicious, Juft, and Wife : The Fleet obeys, And the French Pyrates flee the Briti/fj Seas.

* Tm Britifta Admirah.

XXXI.

To V E L I N A, 011 the D E A T H of feve^ ral joung ChHdren.

T.Have (cqw a comely Fruit-tree Ln thc Summer- Seafon, with the Branches of it promifmg plen- teous Fruit ; the Stock was furrounded with feven or eight little Shoots of difFerent Sizes, that grew up from the Root at a fmall diftance, and feemed to compofe a beautiful Defence and Ornament for tlie Mother- Trce : But the Gardener, who efpied their Growth, knew tlie Danger j he cut down thofe tender Suckers one after another, and laid them in the Duft. -t pitied them in my Heart, and faid, How pretty were thefe young Stamiards ! hczu tnuch like the Farent ! how elegantly cloathed with tl?e Raiviettt of Swnmer ! and each cf them might have groiun to a fruitful Trce : But thcy ftood fo near as to endanger the Stock ; they drew away the Sap, the Heart and Strength of it, fo far as to injure the Fruit, and darken the hopeful

Profpe6t

ii^ Mtfcellaneous Thotights,

Profpeil of Autumn. The Pruning-knlfe appeared unkind indeed, but the Gardener was wife j for the Tree flourifh'd more fenfibly, the Fruit quickly grew fair and large, and the In-gathering at laft was plen- teous and joyful.

W I L L you give me Leave, Velina^ to perfuade you into thls Parable ? Shall I compare you to this Tree in the Garden of G o d ? Your agreeable Quallfications feem to promife various Fruits, of Faith, of Lcve, of univerfal Holinefs and Service : You hav^ had many of tljefe young Suckers- fpringing up around ■you ; they ftood a-while your fweet Ornaments and your Joy ; and e?xh of theni might have grown up to a Perfe6lion of Likenefs, and each might have become a Parent-Tree : But fay,. D/d they never draw your Heart off" from G o d ? Did you never feel them ftealing any of thofe Seafons of Devotion, or thofe warm Affedions that were firft and fupremely due to him that made you r Did they iiot ftand a little too near your Soul ? And when they have been cut off fucceflively, and laid one after another in the Duft, haVe you not found your Heart runnlng out more to- ward G o D, and living more perpetually upon him ? Are you not now devoting yourfelf more entirely to G o D every Day, fince the laft was taken away ? Are you not aimlng at fome greater Fruitfulnefs and Servlce than In Times paft ? If fo, then replne not at the Pruning-knife, but adore the Condu<^ of the hea- venly Husbandman, and fay, " AU his Ways are Wif- t' dom and Mercv." B u T

in Prose and Y zkse. 117

B u T I have not yet done with my Parable.

W H E N the Granary was well ftored with excel. lent Fruit, and before Winter came upon the Tree the Gardener toolc it up by the Roots, and it appeared as dead. But his Defign was not to deftroy it utterly ; for he removed it far away from that Spot of Earth where it had ftood, and planted it in a Hill of richer Mold, which was fuflicient to nourifh it with all its Attendants. The Spring appeared, the Tree budded into Life again, and all thofe fair httle Stan- dards that had been cut ofF, broke out of the Ground afrefh, and ftood up around it (a fweet young Grove) flourifhing in Beauty and immortal Vigour.

Y o u- know no w where you are, p'eii/2a, and that I have carried you to the Hill of Paradife, to the blefled Hour of the Refurredlion, What an unknown Joy will it be, when you have fulfiiled all the Fruits of' Righteoufnefs in this lowerWorld, to be tranfplanted to that heavenly Mountain ! What a Divine Rapture and Surprife of Bleflednefs, to fee all your little Offspring a- round you that Day, fpringing out of the Duft at once, making a fairer and brighter Appearance in that upper Garden of G o d, and rejoycing together, (a fweet Company) all Partakers with you of the fame happy Immortality ! all fitted to bear hcavenly Fruk, with- out the need or danger of a Pruning-knife. Look forward by Faith to this glQiious Mgfning, and ad.

mirc

ii8 Mlfcellaneoiis Thoughts,

mire the whole Scheme of Providence and Gracc, Give chearful Honours beforehand to your Almighty and AU-wife Govcrnor, who by his unfearchable Counfels has fulfilled your bcft Wifhes, and fecured your dear Infants to you for ever, tho' not juft in your own Way ; that blefled Hand which made the painful Separation on Earth, {hall join you and your Bgbes together in his own heavenly Habitation, never to be divided again, tho' the Method may be painful to Flefh and Blood. Fathers fhall not hope in vain, nor Mothers hring forth for Trouble ; They are ths Seed -of the hleffed of the Lord, and their Offspring with them, Ifaiah Ixiii. 23. Then fhall you fay, Lord, here am /, and the Children that thoii haft givcn me. For he is your •Gody and the God of your Seed in an everlafiing Covenant. Amen.

I

XXXII.

E A R T H, H E A V E N, and H E L L.

Ha V E often trled to ftrip Death of its fright- ful Colours, and make all the terrible Airs of it vanifti into Softnefs and Delight : To this End, a- mong other Rovings of Thought, I have fometimes illuftrated to myfelf the whole Creation, as one ira- -inenfe Building, with difter^nt Apartments, all under

the

in P R o s E and Verse. 119

the inimediate Pofleinon and Government of the great Creator,

O N E fort of thefe Manfions are littlej narrow, dark, damp Rooms ; where there is much Confine- ment, very Httle good Company, and fuch a Clog upon ones natural Spirits, that a Man cannotThink or Talk with Treedom, nor exert his Underftanding, or any of his Intelleclual Powers with Glory or Pleafure, This is the Earth in whicli we dwell.

A S E coN D fort are fpacious, hghtfome, alry and ferene Courts, open to the Summer-Sky, or at leaft admitting all the valuable Quahties of Sun and Air^ without the Inconveniencies ; where there are Thou- fands of moft dehghtful Companions, and every thing that can give one Pleafure, and make one capable and fit to give Pleafure to others. This is the Heaven we hope for.

A T H I R D fort of Apartments are open and fpa- cious too, but under a Wintry-Sky, with perpetual Storms of Hail, Rain and Wind, Thunder, Lightning, iind every thing that is painful and offenfive ; and all this among Millions of wretched Companions curfing the Placc, tormenting one another, and each endea- vouring to incicafe the publick and univ^rfal Mifery. This is Hill,

Now

120 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

No w what a dreadful Thing it is to be driven out of one of the firft narrow dusky Cells, into the Third fort of Apartment, where the Change of the Room is infinitely the worfe ? No wonder that Sinners are a- fraid to die. But why {hould a Soul that has good HopCjthrough Grace, of entring into the ferene Apr.rt- ment, be unwilling to leave the narrow fmoaky Prifon he has dwelt in fo long, and under fuch Loads of In- convenicnce ?

D E A T H to a good Man, is but paffing tlirough a dark Entry, out of one Httle dusky Room of his Fa- ther's Houfe, into another that is fair and large» lightfome and glorious, and divinely entertaining, O may the Rays and Splendors of my heavenly Apart- ment ihoot far downward, and gild the dark Entry with fuch a chearful Gleam, as to banifh every Fear when I fliall be called to pafs through !

XXXIII. A HoRNETS Nest dejfrofd.

TT7 HA T curious little Creatures were thefe \ hcw

bright and beautiful the Body of them ! how

nimble and fprightly the feveral Limbs ! how fwift the

VVing of this Infe<^ for Flight, and the Sting as dread-

ful

in P R 0 s E and V e r S e. iii

fyl for its own Defence, and for the Punifliment of thofe that hurt it. What rich Contrivance is therc in all thc invifible Springs of this little Enginc ! and yet hcrc arc llioufands of them deftroy'd at once, and rcduced to coinmon Earth.

l r any Artift amongft Mcn could have framed hijt one fuch a wonderful Machine as this, it would jiavc been fold for Thoufands of Gold and Silvcr, it wouid ha\ e been valued at the Price of Royal Trea- fures, and tliougiit flt only for the Cabinet of thc grcateft Princes. The Deftru6tion of fuch a rare Piecc of Workmanfhip would have been an uncom- ixrnfable Lofs araong Men ; but 'tis the Work of G o D, and here are Thoufands of thefe elegant Struc- tu.rcs dcmolifhed, and caft out to the Dunghill, with- out any Concern or Injury to G o d or Man. GIo- rious Uideed, and all Divine is the Magnificence of tiic grcat Creator ! With what a Profufion doth hc pour out the Riches of his Art, even amongft thc uieaner Parts of the Creation ! he makcs yearly Mil- lions of thefe Animals without Labour, and he can part with Millions out of his Kingdom without Lofs.

Y E T. thefe are not fuperfluous or ufelefs Beings in thc Dominions of G o d. There was a time when he raifed an Army of them, and fent them upon a great - Expcdition, to drivc the Nations of the Canaanitei and ihcir Kings out of their own Land, when he would plant hib belovcd Ifrael there, E^od. xxiii. 28. 'JojZ

G xxiv'~

tzi, MtfceUaneotisTboughts,

xxiv. 1 2. Thus he knows how to employ them, 'when and where he pleafes : But he gives Leave to vcvery Man to deftroy their Nefts and thelr Armies, wherefoever .they become a Nuifance to him ; for if Jie want them himfelf, he can fummon them from the moft diftant Parts of the World, and they ftiall •come at his firft Call. He can hfs for the Fly thatii in the .uttermoji Parts of Egypt, and the Bee that is in ihe Land of A^yx\2iy Ifa.\n. i8. and they ftiall range themfelves under his Banner to execute his dreadful Commiflion. Or if the whole Creation does not af- ford Legions of them fufficient for his Purpofe, He, Vfho could animate the Duft of the Earth into LicCj £xod. viii. i6. can command all the Sands of theSea anto fwarms of Hornets j or he can call Millions out «f Nothing into Being with a VVord, all drefs'd in their proper Livery, and armed with their Stings to carry on his War . What can be wanting to that G o D who has all the uncreated and unknown World ©f Poffibles within the Reach of his Voice ? Rom. iv, 11. He calUth the Things that are not, as tho' thty mere.

XXXIV.

in PROSE and Verse. 113

XXXIV.

ClTATIONS and I N S G RI P T I 0 N S.

A N C I E N T Cuftom and modern Fafhien are two fovereign Tyrants, who bear aJmoft aauni- verfal Sway over the Pradices of Mankind. They are diredly oppofite to each other, and they fliare the Empire of the World between them. The Learned and the Mighty, as well as the Poor and the Foohfh, obey thelr Diilates without further F.nquiry, and fubmit all to their Autliority, witliout Referve, and without Reafon.

W H Y did the Perfiam worfhip the Fire, and tlie Chinefe the Souls of their Anceflors ? Why do the Papi/ls fay their Prayers in Latin, and the Jezus wafh their Hands always before cating ? 'Twas the Ufacrc of ancient Ages, and thc Cuflom of their Fathers, Why did the Ladies of Great-Britain wear Ri.fFi and Fardingals a Century and a half ago ? and why do the M^n of P^afhion now a-days keep two Knots of Hair ever dangling on their Shoulders, with one lon''- Curl hehind ? Does Nature find fo niuch Con\'eni- ence, or fpy fo much Dccency in it. Neither of the two i but ftill tlJ6re'5 fuppofed to be Reafon enough

G 2 . for

if 14 MifcellaneoHs Tbou^hts,

.for any of thgfe Oddities^ fmce 'tls the prefent Modc. The Mode will foon reconciip Fa/icy to the moft ;3ukward Appeariinces, and the.rrioft incommodioua Prac^ice^ ; But If Naturc, Reafbn, and Convenience, .rnake never lb loud R^inonflraRces, they jnuft all ftand afide and rubmif, whije fome pld Cujipms and foms mu Fiifimi pronounce their abfalyta P^cree? concerning a thoufand Things, ?.nd determine v/ith- tui Appeal i

Yet if Reafon, or Reilglon, m^hfc have leave

;to put in a VVord, methinks tJjcr-j Bre fome ancient

Fafhlonf! which {hould never hAve besn &ntii'iufited, Jis

wcll s^ thijri? are fome new pnes which ihoviid nevef

.have been fuffered to Rrife.

-'T w A .8 a Faftiipn among oiir Grandfathers, to cite ft worthy or elegant S^menee fjom fome Au» thor of cflftblifhed Fi^me^ and tbfit in ilieir Cvn\'crfft- tion, »6 well m th^lr Writlnga ; They wQuld uhufe to .cxpfers their Sehtiments Jr» thebfightandb^utiiul Lan» ^uagg ef lome ancient Ppet pr Philojopher, whlch g£^ve new Life and Strengtb to the Per iod : But for thefe fifty Years paft yow gain the Nfime of a M^///^, if you affrcjnt the mo<iifli World with a tvife nnd piQus .Siiyipg bPf rqwed from one of ihe Ancients ii^ their =own Lanjuaffc.

"I w I L L crant indeed, that 'twas a Piecc of iVidc, Vanity and Impertinence in fome who lived in

the

in Prose and VerS£. rtf

\\\t laft CertturV; -to iiiterlln^ ttl! thetr Di(c;ourfe5, aii^' blmoft dver»/ JPage of thfelr Books, *ivith psrpetuat! Scfapg of G/Tf/^ and UtUi ; nfid it bccame )'ct mofe ■ lidiculousinSerrilons And ihT i^e^iles whi^h Wcf^ ^fic- tenbnly for (hc Ufc of the En^HJhVfoi\di who knew nothinsr but their Mother-Tonsud } but muft fo uf«;fui. and cnteftaiiling a Priictice be baniftiM foi- Gvcri bc" ' Caufe it has been abufedj and carried to Extreams ? Sunpofe I have a finc and noble Sentiment in my ri)ought?5 which I learned koin ■ Senecd oi' Ciccnf* iltaft I-be bound to delivffrit iri my owh 1'udel' Lsh- guagej ■ rather than- lct tliofc' ingenious Aneients f|Hnik it in theit ovvM) Phrdf« ; fuppofing always that the ' Company in which I fpeak, underftand th§ Roitwt' ^'ongue ? Isit fuch a Crime t9 kc Ji4v^inil q^ Hnac''

fj*y m Hgfe^able m^ pefijj^e.nt ThlHg fMf m^ wheii 1 thereby confefs that I eafinpt hy ai^yThing myfelf fo • pertinent and fo agreeable ? And why may woi-xDcivid or a Solomon^ as well as a Virgil^ a Milton or an Addijon raife and dignify a Period now and then with thcir no- blc, and juft, and elegant Lines, andenUven a modern ' Page with their warm and fplendid Images ? 'Tis not Nature and Reafon, but merc Fafliion that hatli branded this Pra^lice with thc odious Name of Furita- ^ijin^ or of Pcdantry ; and I think I may congratulate ■ thc prefent Agc, that it begins a httlc to bc rcvivcd^,- \en by Writers of the firft Rank.

jVI A Y I prcfume again to enquire why we fliould abfolutcly rcnounce ti)C P'aftiion of our Forc-fathers^ G 3 i2>(

ii6 Mlfcellafieous Thoughts^

n adoming their Churches and their Houfes with the wife and pious Sayings of Philofophers, or of Pro- phets and Men infpir'd ? G o d himfelf invented this Pra<flice, and made it a Law for the Jew^, his favou- rite People, that theyjhould write hh Stctutes on the Pcjls cf their Houfes, and cn their Gaies, to ftiike the Eye and the Heart of all that came in. Nor is there ary tiiing Superftitious or Jeivijb in this Matter ; the Walls of Chrijlian Temples were wont to be infcribcd v>'ith remarkable Precepts of Piety taken from the Word of G o D ; Moral and Divine Motto's were, in former Centuries, thought an Ornament to the narrow Pannels of their Wainfcot, and long and beau- tiful Sentences ran round the Cornilh of a private Houfe, and carried Virtue and Peace with them all the Way. That Divine Rule of Equity, Deal luith sfhers, as you would have others deal with you, has ftood Guard in a Tradefman's Shop againft every Ap- pearance of Fraud, and every Temptation to over- reach a Cuftomer. Clofets and Comptlng-Houfes often told our Anceftors their Duty when they were alone ; and their large and fpacious Halls taught Virtue and Goodnefs to the World in fair and legible Charac- ters. The Parlour and the Dining-Room put their Friends in mind of G o D and Heaven, in Letters of Vermillion and Gold ; and the Kitchen and the Out-houfes-inftruded the Servants in their Duty, and reproved them to the Face, when they ventured to praitife Iniquity out of the Sight of their Maller.

I K N o \v

tn pRoss and Veksi, t^J

I K N o vv there's a Decorum to be obferved in alT Xhingsof tliis kind. I am not for pafting up whole Pages of Moraiity round the Roonris, nor filling cvcry naked Pannel v,'ith little Gothick Emblems and Ornament*;, with ploas Rhimes or Leclures of Reli- gion : But methinks we run to a wide Extrcam, when we abfolutely exclude every fuch Leflbn of Virtue from all tlie Places of our Refidence. And fmce tlie prefent Mod|e has ccndemned all thefc Infcriptions of Truth and Goodnefs, I know not what is come iii-. the room of them, unlef^ it be the filthy Abufe of Letters, and a lev/d or a profane Couplct grave-n with a Diamond on a Pane of Glafs. Our Walls in Ages- paft v/ore the Signaturcs of Honour and Virtue ; now there are too many Windows, that as foon as they admit the Light,. difcover our Shame. I won* der how any Man that pretends to Politenefs and Elcgancy, fhould fcribble fuchLinesas female Modefty ought, never to fee, and which the rudeft Tongue of his own Sex ought never to pronounce,

A T other timcs you fliall find fome vile Reproach

on particular Pcrfons left ftanding on the Glafs to be read by future Comers j and thus the Scandal is con- vey'd to Multitudes in a long Succeftion ; and every Rcader, by learning the unjuft Reproach, may iii fome Senfc bafaid to increafe th« Writcr's Guilt,

G ^ U

ii^ MifcelUneoiis ThoughtSy

If they muft write the Names of their Miftre/Tcs en the Windows, and delcribe tlieir Beauties there, let them do it in fuch Language as may not oftend the Tongue of Modefty to repeat, nor raife a Blufh en the Cheek of Virtue;

Jfthe Mufe lavtjh her mmdrtal Wrt

To paint (i fidlng Fact^ And thefirm Diamitid thefrail Honoun writt

Upon thc brittlc Glafi^ Let M foul Word poUute thxt heavenly Ray irkich mahci the tinci appear / Lcvodnefi would taiht tU $un-kami in fhelr Wayi Zrwd/hfi fiiuld ne^er bf readhit when htnUghimgip]»»! ? > blijl the WriterU Hand, and fi)ake his Soul with fear.

I F they wni write the Name of a Friend or a Stranger there, Ifet it be a Name of Wortb and Ho- nour, let it be fome Example of Virtue, and attend»d with a due Encomium,

A L B I N u s.

Char ai the Glafi, his fpotlefi Fame, And lajiing Diamond writes his Name.

O R if a Diamond muft be ufed for a Pen, and a Pane of Glafs muft be theTablet on which we write, 1 fhould rather choofe that thofe pellucid Mediums Which L-anfmit thc Li£bt of Heavca to our Eycs,

ftiouW

in P R 0 s E and V e r s e. ii^ ^

ftiould convey fome Beam of facred Knowledge, or ' (omQ ufeful Memento to the Mind.

JFords of Etmial Truth proclaimy .

AIl mortal Joys are vain : A Diamond Pen engraves the Them^ IJpon a brittk Plain.

XXXV.-

Againft L e w d N E s s. I.:

TT7 H Y (hould you let your wandrlng Eyes >

Entlce your Souls to fhameful Sin ? Scandal.and Ruin are the Prize, You take fuch fatal Pains to wiji. .

n.

This Brutal Vice makes Reafon Wind, And blots.the Name with hateful Stalns ;

It waftes the Flefh, pollutes the Mind, And tears the Hcart with/'racking Pains.

III. Ltt David fpeak with heavy Groan:;^ , How if cftrang'd his Soul from G o d,

G 5 Mad<

x^o Mifcellaneous Tboughu^

Made hlm complain of broken Bones, And fill'ci his Houfe with Wars and Blood,

IV.

Let Sohmon and Samfon tell

Their melancholy Storles here, How bright they fhone, how low they fell,

When Sin's vile Pleafures coft them dear.

V.

In valn you choofe the darkeft Time,

Nor let the Sun behold the Sight : 2n vain you hope to hide your Crime^

Behind the Curtains of the Night ;

VI.

The vvakeful Stars and Midnight Moon

Watch your foul Deeds, and kaov/ your Shame ;

And G o d's own Eye, hke Beams of Noon,

Strikes through tlie Shade, and marks your Namr.

VII. What will ye do when Heav'n enquircs

Into thofe Scenes of fecret Sin ? And Luft, with all its guilty Fires,

Shall raake your Confcience rage within ? VIII. IIow will you curfe your wanton Eyes,

Curfe the lewd Partners of your Shame, When Death with horrible Surprize

Sbews you the Pit of quenchlefs Flame ?

IX» Fleet

^ pRosE ^^ Verse. ni

IX.

FIcc, Sinners, flee th' unlawflil Bed, Left Vengence fend you down to dweff

Ih the dark Regions of the Dead, To feed the fierccft Fires of Hell.

xxvr.

Againfi D Ru N K E K N E S S,

T.

T S it not ftrange that every Creahire

Should know the Meafure of its Thirft^ (They drink but to fupport their Nature, And give due Moifture to their DuH j)

II.

VVhile Man, vile Man, whofe nobler kind' Should fcorn to a«2 beneath the Beaft»

Drowns alJ the Glories of his Mind, And kills his Soul to pleafe his Tafte ?

III. O what a hateful, fhameful Sighf,

Are Drunkards reeling through the Street ? Now tljey are fond, and now they fight,

And pour thdt Shamc on all they mect.

IV. r

1^1 Mifiellaneous Thoughtfy IV.

Is it fo exquifite a Pleafure

To troll down Liquor through the Throat, And fwi]], and know no Bound nor Meafure,

'Till Senfe andReafen-are forgot ?

V,, Do they deferve th' immortal Name

Of Alun^ who fmk fo far below ? Wil] G o D, the Maker of their Frame

Endurc to fec them fpoil it fo ?

vn

Can they e'er think of Heaven and Grace, Or hope for G]ory when tliey die ?

(ian fuch vile Ghofts expe£l a Place Among the-ihining Souls-on high ?

VII. The meanefl Seat is too refin'd

To entertain a Drunkard there. Ye Sinners of thi^ loathfome Kindj

Repent, or pciifti in Defpaifs ,

XXXiVI..

m P R o s E and V e r s e. tjy

XXXVII. V A N I T Y Confeffd.

)>-p\V"AS a ftrange and thoughtlefs Expreflion of a. very ingenious.* Author, *' Among all the " Millions of, Vices^.f^^-^ /;£■) ♦hat . I. inherit .from " Adam, I have efcaped the firft and Father-Sin of ** Pride : " And he goes on to prove it by aflerting his Humility, after many boafted Inftances of his Learn- ing and Acquirements. Surely (thought I) this Man li-vcd mucKabroad, and converfed but little at home ; he knew rauch of the-World, but hewas not ae- quainted with himfelf ; and while he pradliles his Va- nity in fo publick a manner, he ftrongly deuies that any belongs to him.

Senom was a Man of a more mortified Soulj a.-fa- gacious Self-Enquirer while he lived ; and among his moft fecret Papers which efcaped the Flames, this following Soliloquy was found after his Death. How paflionately does he, mourn this Frailty, and with whaL a- bccoming Senfe doth he lamcnt and bev/ail this original Blemifti of his Nature -I 'Tvvas written before he arrived at his facred Dignity, but it difcovers the Sentiments and the Piety which attended him iKough all his Life.

* Dr, Brown, in bis Religio Medici.

P.B I P

134 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

P R I D E (faith he) is fo extenfive, fo univerfal a Difeafe of Mankind, that I know no part of the In- feilion which we derive from our firft Father, that has fo intimately mingled itfelf with the whole Mafs of Blood, has fo much corrupted our beft Powers,. and runs without Exception through the whole Race, Methinks I can fcarce move, or fpeak, but I feel the fccret Poifon working, and I am betray'd at every Turn into new Folly and Guilt by this flattering and fubtile Enemy.

I r I am accepted in Company, and find Fa- vour among Men, how ready am I to impute it to my own Merit ! and if I meet with Reproach, how does my Heart fwell againft the Tongue that uttered it, and I begin to charge the ignorant World that they have not known me ! or I accufe them fecretly of doing Injuftice to my Charader ^ for I fancy myfelf to have defcrved the Honours of Mankind, and not their Cenfures.

T H I s adive Iniquity is never at reft ; whether I have to do with G o d or Man, it befets me on every Side, it breaks the Commands of the firft Ta- ble, as weil as the fecond, detracls frora the Honour that I owe to my Maker, and the Charity due to my Fellow-Creatures.

I D E V o T E myfelf and all my Powers to G o d in the Morning, and I think I do it with folemn

Sin-

/« Prose tfwi Verse. 13 f

Sincerlty : Then I meditate, I compofe, or perhaps I preach, and difFufe the Knowledge and the Gk>ry of Chri/i, my Lord : But if fome fhining Thoughc break into my Meditations, how fond am I to fpread and drefs it, to make Self fhine a little ; and thus facrilegioufly attempt to fhare the Honour that is due alone to my Saviour and his Gofpel ! how clofely doth this Serpent-Iniquity twine about my Nature,. and de» file my moft religious Services ! Often do I aflume thofe Lines in my Lips, and with the pleafing Pain that belongs to Repentance, I appropriatc the Words to myfelf, as tho' I had been the Author of them

'Tis Pride^ that bufy Sin, Spoih all that I perform ; Curji Pride, that creeps fecurely in^ Jnd fwelh a haughty Worm !

I F I begin to write any Divlne Thoughts In Verfe, to entertain myfelf or my Fellow-Chriftians with holy Melody, I find this Tempter at my right Hand, abufmg my Poef/, to ths ruin of my Re- ligion. —

My God^ the Songs I frame

Are faithlefs to thy Caufe^ And fieal the Honours of thy Nanii

To build their oiun Applaufe.

SoMETiMES I raife my Thoughts a littk te contemplate my Crcator in the jiuraerous Wonders of

1-3 ^ Mifiellaneous Thoughts^

his Power and Wifdom, in his inimltable Per- fe6lions, and in the Majefty and Gcandeur of his Nature j I fall down before him, confound- ed in his Prefcnce.: My own Ideas of his tran- fcendent Excellency overwhelm me with. a Senfe of my own Meannefs, and I lay myfelf low in the Duft, . whence I and all my Fore-fathers fprang ; but perhaps a fudden Momcnt turns my Thought afide to my Brethren, my. FelJow-Mortals i and when I imagine myfelf fuperior to fome of them, the Worm that lay level with the Duft begins to fwell and rife agairi, and a vain Self-Comparifon with Creatures in- terrupts the humble Proftrations of my Soul, and fpoils my Devotion to my G o D.

A ND here 'tis very aftonifhing to confider upon what Trifles of Circumftance fo^lifh Man is ready to exalt himfelf above his Neighbour : I am even aftia- med to think, that when I ftand among Perfons of a low Stature, and a mean outward Appearance, (efpe- ciaUy if they are utter Strangers) I am ready to look downward upon their Undertakings, as beneath ray own, becaufe Nature has formed my Limbs by . a larger Model, has raifed this anlma! Bulk upon- higher PlUars, and given me a full and florid AfpecSi. Rldlculous Thought, and wiid Imagination ! as tho' the Size and Colour of the Brwte wsre the proper Meafure to judge of the- Man !

At

ift

Pk osE andVz^s^. 13 7

At another Time, wheji I have been engaged In frec Difcourre, I have heard a fprightly Youth talk nioft peftinently on ti^c propored Subjedt, but I felt fliy- fclf re:i<\y befofe-hand to defpire whateVer he fhould fay, bccaufe I happened to be born ten Yeai-s befoJ-e him } and yet how wretchedly inconfiftent is this Diilempei" of Mind ! fof I Was tempted the next Moment to neg- \cct what was fpoken by a grave Gentleman prefent, becauie lie was borntwcntvYears before me : My own Vanity would perfuade me that the onc was fo much youngcr than I, that he had not yet arrived at Senfe, and the other (o much older, that he had forgot it,

I r r N B it i5 m% Ymtb or A^i, but 'tii Sflf i^ the Idol and the Temptatlon, My foolifli Heart Js apt to fay withitt itfelf, evcn when I am in the midft of Perfons of Thought and Sagacity, " Methinks they *^ ihould all be of my Mind when I havegivcn my Opi- »* nion ;" and I feel a fecret Inclination to flattcr my own Judgment, tho' I condemn tlie young and the old. Thus is Pride bufy and zealous to exait Self on every Occafion, to fet up the Jdol, and make all bow down to it.

T H E s E fdent and unfeen Turns of Thought within me are fo impudent, and fo unreafonable, that I cannot bear to let 'em appear even before my own Judgment : I fcarce bring them to a Trial, for I Hjjow they are Evil ; I condeinn them aj foon as they

are

138 Mifcellaneous Thoughts^

are born, I banifh them for ever from my Soul, anJ forbid their Return. But e're I am aware they will come to their old native Seat again, in fpight of all the Laws and Rules of Reafon and Religion ; they overleap all the Bars and Fences that I raife perpetually to keep them out. This wicked Pride is a home-born and domeftick Enemy, it knows every Avenue of the Soul, and is hardly excluded even by the fevereft Watchfulnefs.

W E are fo fond to appear ahvays in tlie riglit, that I find myfelf to need a good degree of Self-Denial, in order to believe that Truth is Truth, when I have happened to fall into a different Sentiment ; and what is this but Pride of Heart ? I need not go far back- ward in my Life, to find an Inftance of this Folly or Madnefs j fomething of this kind fo often occurs,

T H R E E Days ago I was relatlng an Affair of great Confequence, and was oppofed in my Narra- tive by a Friend, who knew the whole Story perfeilly : I felt my Heart unwilling to yield to his Oppofition, tho' tbe Reafonings that attended his Narration car- ried fuperior Light and Force in them ; I was hardly convinced that I was in the wrong, till I had left the Company and bethought myfelf. This curfed Con- ceit ! how it blinds the Eyes to Reafon, and bars our Convidlion ! And 'tis the fame Difeafe of the Mind that prevents our Confeffion of an Error, even when we are inwardly convinced of it ; 'Tis Pride that cramps

the

/>/ pRoSE and Verse. 13^

the Organs of Speech, and makes thefe Words, / wai vnjlaken^ fo hard to pronounce in every Language.

W H E N I am debating a Polnt of Controverfy, how much am I pleafed when I overcome ! and how reaJy do I find my Tongue to contend for Vi(Sory, too often with greater Solicitude than for Truth ! I feel the Mifchief working, tho' I hate it. I look in- ward, I blufli and chide myfelf; but in the next Company Nature returns, tlie inward Diftemper ftirs again, I am ambitious of Conqueft in the next Di- fpute ; yet I profefs to be a Phihfopher^ a Difciple of Wifdom, and a Lover of Truth i but I feel I am a Son of Adam.

I w A T c H againft the firft Rifings of thls In- bred Evil, but 'tis beforehand with me : I refolve to fpeak my Sentiments with a modeft Aire, but Vanity fits upon my Lips, and forms the Sentence, or at leaft gives fome fwelling Accents to the Sound : Then I figh inwardly at the fudden Reproach, TVhat a vain IVretch am I ! and ftiould condemn myfelf as the very vileft Piece of Human Nature, if I did not obferve the fame FoUy working at my right Hand and at my left, and (hewing itfelf all round me in a Variety of Shapes. Were all the Progcny of Eve to be fummon- ed to the Bar of God, and tricd upon this Indidt- ment,

Jlasfor poor Mankind ! Nor Sex not Age isfree : lf7?a( ivQidd becme of Man ? IVhat would become ofme .^

Vaniffo

140 MtfcelUneous thbughts^

Vamjjo was in Cortiparty while this Pap^r was read^ wherein Senoius conft;fs'd this Foibk of his Soul ; aftil with fome Confufiort broke out thus : ** What ! Sc-- *' H9tuSj the Wife and Pious, the Modeft and the ** Humbk) fay all fhis ! Stiiotus, the Venerable Mail ** of the Epifcopal Order, and the Glory of oui' ** Church, talk at this rate ? O for. an etcrnal Suc- *' ceilion of fuch Bifliops in every See! But what ** LGiTon fhali I learn by it ?. ril retire to my Clofe? ** and fearch irtward ; for how many Vices (o evei' ** hung about me, yet I never thought myfelf a proud ** Man before^ but I begin to fufpedl me now«

P A s s I 0 N and R E A s o >r,

A M O N G the maltitude of Words that are ut- •^ tered by the Paffiens, you may fometimes chancc to hear the Didlates of Reafon : But if you fuffer yourfelf to be ruffledj' and return Wrath for Wrath, you fo effe(5lually flop your Ears againft her fofter Voice, that you cannot believe there was a Syllable o Reafon in all the Difcourfe of your Opponcnt ; and thus by indulging a Spirit of Contradi^^ion, you for- t)id your own Improvemcnt.

in Pross and VensE. 141

TranguiUui is a Gentle.man of penetrafing Judg- lucnt, and a fedste Temper ; yf//r^/)<? is the Purtner of Jijs Life i a Perfon of good Ujiderftfinding, but her Imagination far excecds ; there is great Brightnefs in her Converf^tion, but her Paflions are warm, and fhe fp far tbrgets herfelf, that her Voice is fometimes a littlc elevated, even vhile Compan)- is prefent, When ^he Clouds cathcr, and thc Storm rifcs, Tr&nqulUui yields to the Circumftances of thc Hour ; he knows 'tis in vain to debate with a Tempeft, or reprove a Wirlwind, but he calmly cxpedb Silence and fair Wciither To-morrow.

Ma n V a time has thc good Man confcfs'd, that bc hae gained fomc ufeful Hints of Knowledge undcr thofe Ledlures j for J have worn out (faid hej many a Campaigne, I have learnt to read Truth by the J-^lafli of Guppowder, and to hearlcen to good Senfe, even whcn the Cannons roar. Hcr Admonitions are af- fiftant to Tr\y Virtue, tho' fomctimes they are pronoun- ced louder tlian was necdful.

H A P P Y Man, who is grown fo famihar with Wifdom, as to diflinguifli hcr Voice in the midft of Thunders, and toknowand venerate that divine Sun- beam among whole Sheets and Volumes of LightningJ Happy Man, whofc Soul ncver kindles at thofe Flaftics, nor doth he find his Toiigue inclincd to cccho to thc Noife !

I4X Mijcellaneous Thoughts^

AJlrape indeed would do well to corre£l lier Tem- per ; but one would almoft be content to live a Month among thofe Storms, if one might but gain by that Means the placid and lovely Virtues of TrwiquV.hi^,

L

T E T AJlrape forbear to blaze

As Lightning does, with dreadful Rays, Nor fpoil the Beauties of her Face,

To arm her Tongue with Thunder ; That Reafon hardly looks Divine, Where fo much Fire and Sound combine, And make the Way forWit to (hine

By riving Senfe afunder,

II,

Yet if I found her Words grow warm, Pd learn fome LefFon by the Storm, Or guard myfelf at leaft from Harm

By yielding like TranquiUus. Tempefts will tear the ftifFeft Oak, Cedars with all their Pride are brokc Beneath thc Fury of that Stroke

That never hurts the Willows.

^^

XXXIX.

/» Prose and Verse. 143

XXXIX.

' One T^evil cafting out another.

T ATRISSJ is often indifpofed. Her Friends attend her with moft obliging Vifits, and fome- times give her Relief in a gloomy Hour. Lafl Fri~ day fhe was feized with her ufual Difcompofures j two Ladies of her greateft Intimacy fpent the Afternoon in her Chamber ; they talk'd of publick Bufmefs, and the Commotions of the World ; fhe was all Silence and unmov'd. They brought in Virtue and Religion, and try'd to raife the Converfation to Heaven ; her Soul was very heavy ftill, and her Ears were liftlefs. They dcfcended to common Trifles, furvey'd the green Fields through the Window, and bleft the fine Weather and the warm Sun-ftiine ; LatriJJa was aU cloudy within, and reccived the Talk very coldly,

W H E N thcy found all thefe Attempts were In vain, they ran to the charming Topick of Drefs and Fafliion, gay Colours and new Habits ; they traverfed the Park, and rehearfed the Birth-Day ; but even this would awaken no pleafing Aires, not introduce one 5mile, nor fcarce provok^ an Anfv/er,

ht

144 MtfielianeQUsThoughts,

At lall onc of the Vifitants happen'd to mentlon z Name or two, for which Lat:iffa had a known Aver- fion, and began to expofe their Condu£l and their Charader. Latrijfa foon felt \\vt wicked Plcafurc , the lufcious Poifon wroiight powerfully within, her Voice eccho*d to evcry Accufation, and confirmM all the Infamv. A Difcourfe fo agreeable, fcatter'd thc inward Gioom, and awaken'd her Gall and her Tongue at once. After a few Sentences paft, fhc afiumed the Chair, and ingrofh'd the whole -Conver' iation hcrfelf. She raiTd on triumphantly for an Hour together, without Intermiliion, and without Weari- neii, tho' when her Friends firft came in to fee hcr fhe could hardly fpeak for fair.ting;.

TtH u s have I feen an old Lap-Dog lle fullen or hzy before the Fire, tho' pretty Mifs liath-try^d a hur.drcd Ways to av/aken tiie Crcature to Aclrvity and Play : But a Stranger happening to enter the Room, the little Cur hath callcd up all his natural Envy and Rage, nor hath he ccafed barking till inQ Stranger difappearcd j when the fullen Anima! would not play, he let us hear that he could bark.

BuT 1 reprove myfelf. This Vice rs toobigto be chaftiz'd by Ridicule, for 'tis a mcJft hateful Breach of the Rules of the Gofpel. What a difmal Spedlacle is it to fee this Engine of Scandal {tt on work fo fuc- ce;6fully among Chriftians, to drive out the deaf and

dumb

in pRoSE audVEKSt. 145"

dumb Splrit ! to fee Satan employ'd to caft out Satan, and one evil Spirit difpoflefsM by another !

O T H E fhameful Guft and Relifh that fome Peo« ple find in Reproach and Slander ! The great Apoftle fays, Sptak Evil of no Man, and he excludes Raikn and Revikrsfrom the Kingdom of Heaven j yet Latrifja pcrforms the Duties of the Church and the Clofet, rails daily at fome of her Neighbours, and thinks her- felf a Chriftian of the firfl: Rank ftill ; nor will (he fee nor believe the Iniquity of her Temper, or the Guilt of her Converfation.

XL.

Excellencies and Defeds com^enfated.

T^ A M E doth not always belong to the Adive anxl the Sprightly, nor immortal Memory to the Sons of Wit. Gravonius was a Perfon of Prudence and Vir- tue, but rather of a flow Conception, and a very modc- rate Share ofNatural Vivacity ; a Man of little Dif- courfe, but much Thought ; he would fometimei bring forth very valuable Sentences, and furnifh the Company with wife Obfervations that he had colleded by many Years Reading, and long Acquaintance with Men and Books. He travelled on daily in a H jregular

146 Mifcellaneous Thoughts,

regular Round of Life and Duty to a good old Age, he pafs'd ofF the Stage with Honour amongft his Fiiend^, and was remembred Twenty Years after his Death.

LyciddS was a Gentleman of great Parts, fprightly Wit, far fuperior to Graionius in the Pov/ers of the Mind, and at leaft equal to him in ^^irtue ; he flione bright in every Companv, and put a Luftre upon a21 his Religion ; he was the Wonder and Love of his Friends while he Hved. He was fummon'd away from the World in the Bloom of Life, deep Lamenta- tions were made at his GravCj but in a few Years tlme he was forgotten.

H o w came this to pafs, thnt what blazed fo bright fhould vanifh fo foon, and be loft at once ? ThcRca- ibn is not far to feek. Gravonius kept his Hours and his Rounds as conilant as the Sun, and his Track of Life was drawn to a great Length, and was wcll known to the World : He faid over his Apophthegms and Leflbns of Pixidence, till hisAcquaintance had learnt them by Heart. LydduS was aclive and ready in ail the Varieties of Life, but ne\'er tied himfelf down to iRules, and Forms, and Sentences, nor could he teach another to aci as he did : He always entertained hls Friends wlth a rich Profufion of new jSentimcnts. !Neither hisWIt nor hls Wlfdom had any Common- places : His Manner and his Way was hke an Eaglc in the Air, that leaves no Track behind. His Conver- ■j[atio<n and his Life had a thoufaad Beauties in thcm,

but

in P R o s E and V* e r s e. 147

fcut they were nelther to be imitated, or fcarce rehearfei ■by anotlicr.

T F I vvere to live always, furely I would wifh to hc

-Zyci^as, tbat I might have my Heart evcr at my Righf Hdnd^ \\\ tlie Phrafc oiSoli!''r>K ; that I might know on thc fuddcn how to fpeak iiertinently, and what Courfe to take in evcry ncwOccurrenccof a World that'sin per- petualChanges : I would have an UndcrHanding evec ■ready to fuggeft the Thing that's proper in evcryTimc and Place. It rr.ufl be allow'd, that