360
	POPE.
	Embrac'd	thy	boughs,	thy	rising	bark	delay'd.
	There	wish'd	to	grow,	and	mingle	shade	with	shade.
	Behold	Andraemon	and	th'	unhappy	sire
	Appear,	and	for	their	Dryope	inquire	;
	A	springing	tree	for	Dryope	they	find,
	And	print	warm	kisses	on	the	panting	rind	;
	Prostrate,	with	tears	their	kindred	plant	bedew,
	And	close	embrace	as	to	the	roots	they	grew.
	The	face	was	all	that	now	remain'd	of	thee,
	No	more	a	woman,	nor	yet	quite	a	tree	;
	Thy	branches	hung	with	humid	pearls	appear,
	From	every	leaf	distils	a	trickling	tear,
	And	straight	a	voice,	while	yet	a	voice	remains,
	Thus	through	the	trembling	boughs	in	sighs	com
	plains	:
	"	If	to	the	wretched	any	faith	be	given,
	I	swear	by	all	th'	unpitying	powers	of	Heaven,
	No	wilful	crime	this	heavy	vengeance	bred	;
	In	mutual	innocence	our	lives	we	led	:
	If	this	be	false,	let	these	new	greens	decay,
	Let	sounding	axes	lop	my	limbs	away,
	And	crackling	flames	on	all	my	honours	prey	!
	But	from	my	branching	arms	this	infant	bear,
	Let	some	kind	nurse	supply	a	mother's	care	:
	And	to	his	mother	let	him	oft	be	led,
	Sport	in	her	shades,	and	in	her	shades	be	fed	;
	Teach	him,	when	first	his	infant	voice	shall	frame
	Imperfect	words,	and	lisp	his	mother's	name,
	To	hail	this	tree	;	and	say,	with	weeping	eyes,
	Within	this	plant	my	hapless	parent	lies	:
	And	when	in	youth	he	seeks	the	shady	woods,
	Oh,	let	him	fly	the	crystal	lakes	and	floods,
	Nor	touch	the	fatal	flowers	;	but	warn'd	by	me,
	Believe	a	goddess	shrin'd	in	every	tree.
	My	sire,	my	sister,	and	my	spouse,	farewell	\
	If	in	your	breasts	or	love	or	pity	dwell,
	Protect	your	plant,	nor	let	my	branches	feel
	The	browzing	cattle,	or	the	piercing	steel.
	Farewell	!	and	since	I	cannot	bend	to	join
	My	lips	to	yours,	advance	at	least	to	mine.
	My	son,	thy	mother's	parting	kiss	receive,
	While	yet	thy	mother	has	a	kiss	to	give.
	I	can	no	more	;	the	creeping	rind	invades
	My	closing	lips,	and	hides	my	head	in	shades	:
	Remove	your	hands	;	the	bark	shall	soon	suffice
	Without	their	aid	to	seal	these	dying	eyes."
	She	ceas'd	at	once	to	speak,	and	ceas'd	to	be	;
	And	all	the	nymph	was	lost	within	the	tree	;
	Yet	latent	life	through	her	new	branches	reign'd,
	And	long	the	plant	a	human	heat	retain'd.
	VERTUMNUS	AND	POMONA.
	FROM	OVID'S	METAMORPHOSES,	BOOK	IV.
	THE	fair	Pomona	flourish'd	in	his	reign	:
	Of	all	the	virgins	of	the	sylvan	train,
	None	taught	the	trees	a	nobler	race	to	bear,
	Or	more	improv'd	the	vegetable	care.
	To	her	the	shady	grove,	the	flowery	field,
	The	streams	and	fountains,	no	delights	could	yield	;
	'Twas	all	her	joy	the	ripening	fruits	to	tend,
	And	see	the	boughs	with	happy	burthens	bend.
	The	hook	she	bore	instead	of	Cynthia's	spear,
	To	lop	the	growth	of	the	luxuriant	year,
	To	decent	form	the	lawless	shoots	to	bring,
	And	teach	th'	obedient	branches	where	to	spring.
	Now	the	cleft	rind	inserted	grafFs	receives,
	And	yields	an	offspring	more	than	Nature	gives	;
	Now	sliding	streams	the	thirsty	plants	renew,
	And	feed	their	fibres	with	reviving	dew.
	These	cares	alone	her	virgin	breast	employ
	Averse	from	Venus	and	the	nuptial	joy.
	Her	private	orchards,	wall'd	on	every	side,
	To	lawless	sylvans	all	access	deny'd.
	How	oft	the	Satyrs	and	the	wanton	Fawns,
	Who	haunt	the	forest,	or	frequent	the	lawns,
	The	god	whose	ensign	scares	the	birds	of	prey,
	And	old	Silenus,	youthful	in	decay,
	Employ'd	their	wiles	and	unavailing	care,
	To	pass	the	fences,	and	surprise	the	fair	!
	Like	these,	Vertumnus	own'd	his	faithful	flame,
	Like	these,	rejected	by	the	scornful	dame.
	To	gain	her	sight	a	thousand	fonns	he	wears	:
	And	first	a	reaper	from	the	field	appears	;
	Sweating	he	walks,	while	loads	of	golden	grain
	O'ercharge	the	shoulders	of	the	seeming	swain.
	Oft	o'er	his	back	a	crooked	scythe	is	laid,
	And	wreaths	of	hay	his	sun-burnt	temples	shade	:
	Oft	in	his	harden	'd	hand	a	goad	he	bears,
	Like	one	who	late	unyok'd	the	sweating	steers.
	Sometimes	his	priming-hook	corrects	the	vines,
	And	the	loose	stragglers	to	their	ranks	confines.
	Now	gathering	what	the	bounteous	year	allows,
	He	pulls	ripe	apples	from	the	bending	boughs.
	A	soldier	now,	he	with	his	sword	appears	;
	A	fisher	next,	his	trembling	angle	bears,
	Each	shape	he	varies,	and	each	art	he	tries,
	On	her	bright	charms	to	feast	his	longing	eyes.
	A	female	form	at	last	Vertumnus	wears,
	With	all	the	marks	of	reverend	age	appears,
	His	temples	thinly	spread	with	silver	hairs	:
	Propp'd	on	his	staff,	and	stooping	as	he	goes,
	A	painted	mitre	shades	his	furrow'd	brows.
	The	god,	in	this	decrepit	form	array	'd,
	The	gardens	enter'd,	and	the	fruit	survey'd	;
	And	"	Happy	you	!"	(he	thus	address'd	the	maid)
	"	Whose	charms	as	far	all	other	nymphs	out-shine,
	As	other	gardens	are	excell'd	by	thine	!"
	Then	kiss'd	the	fair	;	(his	kisses	warmer	grow
	Than	such	as	women	on	their	sex	bestow	;)
	Then,	plac'd	beside	her	on	the	flowery	ground,
	Beheld	the	trees	with	autumn's	bounty	crown'd.
	An	elm	was	near,	to	whose	embraces	led,
	The	curling	vine	her	swelling	clusters	spread	:
	He	view'd	her	twining	branches	with	delight,
	And	prais'd	the	beauty	of	the	pleasing	sight.
	"	Yet	this	tall	elm,	but	for	his	vine"	(he	said)
	"	Had	stood	neglected,	and.	a	barren	shade	;
	And	this	fair	vine,	but	that	her	arms	surround
	Her	marry'd	elm,	had	crept	along	the	ground.
	Ah,	beauteous	maid	!	let	this	example	move
	Your	mind,	averse	from	all	the	joys	of	love	:
	Deign	to	be	lov'd,	and	every	heart	subdue	!
	What	nymph	could	e'er	attract	such	crowds	as	you	?
	Not	she	whose	beauty	urg'd	the	Centaur's	arms,
	Ulysses'	queen,	nor	Helen's	fatal	charms.
	Ev'n	now,	when	silent	scorn	is	all	they	gain,
	A	thousand	court	you,	though	they	court	in	vain,
	A	thousand	sylvans,	demigods,	and	gods,
	That	haunt	our	mountains,	and	our	Alban	woods.
	But	if	you'll	prosper,	mark	what	I	advise,
	Whom	age	and	long	experience	render	wise,
	And	one	whose	tender	care	is	far	above
	All	that	these	lovers	ever	felt	of	love,
	(	Far	more	than	e'er	can	by	yourself	be	guess'd)
	Fix	on	Vertumnus,	and	reject	the	rest.
	For	his	firm	faith	I	dare	engage	my	own	;
	Scarce	to	himself,	hira!>elf	;	s	better	kpnwn.


4-38
	THOMSON.
	AUTUMN.
	Falls	from	its	poise,	and	gives	the	breeze	to	blow.
	Kent	is	the	fleecy	mantle	of	the	sky	;
	The	clouds	fly	different	;	and	the	sudden	Sun
	By	fits	effulgent	gilds	th'	illumin'd	field,
	And	black	by	fits	the	shadows	sweep	along.
	A	gaily-chequer'd	heart-expanding	view,
	Far	as	the	circling	eye	can	shoot	around,
	Unbounded	tossing	in	a	flood	of	corn.
	These	are	thy	blessings,	Industry	!	rough	power
	Whom	labour	still	attends,	and	sweat,	and	pain	:
	Yet	the	kind	source	of	every	gentle	art,
	And	all	the	soft	civility	of	life	:
	Raiser	of	human-kind	!	by	Nature	cast,
	Naked,	and	helpless,	out	amid	the	woods
	And	wilds,	to	rude	inclement	elements	;
	With	various	seeds	of	art	deep	in	the	mind
	Implanted,	and	profusely	pour'd	around
	Materials	infinite	;	but	idle	all.
	Still	unexerted,	in	th'	unconscious	breast,
	Slept	the	lethargic	powers	;	corruption	still,
	Voracious,	swallow'd	what	the	liberal	hand
	Of	bounty	scatter'd	o'er	the	savage	year	:
	And	still	the	sad	barbarian,	roving,	mix'd
	With	beasts	of	prey	;	or	for	his	acorn-meal
	Fought	the	fierce	tusky	boar	;	a	shivering	wretch	.'
	Aghast,	and	comfortless,	when	the	bleak	north,
	With	Winter	charg'd,	let	the	mix'd	tempest	fly
	Hail,	rain,	and	snow,	and	bitter-breathing	frost	:
	Then	to	the	shelter	of	the	hut	he	fled	;
	And	the	wild	season,	sordid,	pin'd	away.
	For	home	he	had	not	;	home	is	the	resort
	Of	love,	of	joy,	of	peace	and	plenty,	where,
	Supported	and	supporting,	polish'd	friends,
	And	dear	relations,	mingle	into	bliss.
	But	this	the	rugged	savage	never	felt,
	Ev'n	desolate	in	crowds	;	and	thus	his	days
	Roll'd	heavy,	dark,	and	unenjoy'd	along	:
	A	waste	of	time	:	till	Industry	approach'd,
	And	rous'd	him	from	his	miserable	sloth	:
	His	faculties	unfolded	;	pointed	out
	Where	lavish	Nature	the	directing	hand
	Of	Art	demanded	;	show'd	him	how	to	raise
	His	feeble	force	by	the	mechanic	powers,
	To	dig	the	mineral	from	the	vaulted	Earth,
	On	what	to	turn	the	piercing	rage	of	fire,
	On	what	the	torrent,	and	the	gather'd	blast	;
	Gave	the	tall	ancient	forest	to	his	axe	;
	Taught	him	to	chip	the	wood,	and	hew	the	stone,
	Till	by	degrees	the	finish'd	fabric	rose	;
	Tore	from	his	limbs	the	blood-polluted	fur,
	And	wrapt	them	in	the	woolly	vestment	warm,
	Or	bright	in	glossy	silk,	and	flowing	lawn	;
	With	wholesome	viands	fill'd	his	table,	pour'd
	The	generous	glass	around,	inspir'd	to	wake
	The	life-refining	soul	of	decent	wit	:
	Nor	stopp'd	at	barren	bare	necessity	;
	But,	still	advancing	bolder,	led	him	on
	To	pomp,	to	pleasure,	elegance,	and	grace	;
	And,	breathing	high	ambition	through	his	soul,
	Set	science,	wisdom,	glory,	in	his	view,
	And	bade	him	be	the	Lord	of	all	below.
	Then	gathering	men	their	natural	powers	combin'd,
	And	form'd	a	public	;	to	the	general	good
	Submitting,	aiming,	and	conducting	all.
	For	this	the	patriot-council	met,	the	full,
	The	free,	and	fairly	represented	whole	;
	For	this	they	plann'd	the	holy	guardian	laws,
	Distinguish'd	orders,	animated	arts,
	And,	with	joint	force	Oppression	chaining,	set
	Imperial	Justice	at	the	helm	;	yet	still
	To	them	accountable	;	nor	slavish	dream'd
	That	toiling	millions	must	resign	their	weal,
	And	all	the	honey	of	their	search,	to	such
	As	for	themselves	alone	themselves	have	rais'd.
	Hence	every	form	of	cultivated	life
	In	order	set,	protected,	and	inspir'd,
	Into	perfection	wrought.	Uniting	all,
	Society	grew	numerous,	high,	polite,
	And	happy.	Nurse	of	art	!	the	city	rear'd
	In	beauteous	pride	her	tower-encircled	head	;
	And,	stretching	street	on	street,	by	thousands	drew,
	From	twining	woody	haunts,	or	the	tough	yew
	To	bows	strong-straining,	her	aspiring	sons.
	Then	Commerce	brought	into	the	public	walk
	The	busy	merchant	;	the	big	warehouse	built	;
	Rais'd	the	strong	crane	;	choak'd	up	the	loaded
	street
	With	foreign	plenty	;	and	thy	stream,	O	Thames,
	Large,	gentle,	deep,	majestic,	king	of	floods	!
	Chose	for	his	grand	resort.	On	either	hand,
	Like	a	long	wintery	forest,	groves	of	masts
	Shot	up	their	spires	;	the	bellying	sheet	between
	Possess'd	the	breezy	void	;	the	sooty	hulk
	Steer'd	sluggish	on	;	the	splendid	barge	along
	Row'd,	regular,	to	harmony	;	around,
	The	boat,	light	skimming,	stretch'd	its	oary	wings	;
	While	deep	the	various	voice	of	fervent	toil	[oak
	From	bank	to	bank	increas'd	;	whence	ribb'd	with
	To	bear	the	British	thunder,	black,	and	bold,
	The	roaring	vessel	rush'd	into	the	main.
	Then	too	the	pillar'	d	dome,	magnific,	heav'd
	Its	ample	roof	;	and	Luxury	within
	Pour'd	out	her	glittering	stores	;	the	canvass	smooth,
	With	glowing	life	protuberant,	to	the	view
	Embodied	rose	;	the	statue	seem'd	to	breathe^
	And	soften	into	flesh,	beneath	the	touch
	Of	forming	art,	imagination-flush'd.
	All	is	the	gift	of	Industry	;	whate'er
	Exalts,	embellishes,	and	renders	life
	Delightful.	Pensive	Winter	cheer*	d	by	him
	Sits	at	the	social	fire,	and	happy	hears
	Th'	excluded	tempest	idly	rave	along	;
	His	harden'd	fingers	deck	the	gaudy	Spring	;
	Without	him	Summer	were	an	arid	waste	;
	Nor	to	th'	Autumnal	months	could	thus	transmit
	Those	full,	mature,	immeasureable	stores,
	That,	waving	round,	recall	my	wandering	song.
	Soon	as	the	morning	trembles	o'er	the	sky,
	And,	unperceiv'd,	unfolds	the	spreading	day	;
	Before	the	ripen'	d	field	the	reapers	stand,
	In	fair	array	;	each	by	the	lass	he	loves,
	To	bear	the	rougher	part,	and	mitigate
	By	nameless	gentle	offices	her	toil.
	At	once	they	stoop	and	swell	the	lusty	sheaves	;
	While	through	their	cheerful	band	the	rural	talk,
	The	rural	scandal,	and	the	rural	jest,
	Fly	harmless,	to	deceive	the	tedious	time,
	And	steal	unfelt	the	sultry	hours	away.
	Behind	the	master	walks,	builds	up	the	shocks	;
	And,	conscious,	glancing	oft	on	every	side
	His	sated	eye,	feels	his	heart	heave	with	joy.
	The	gleaners	spread	around,	and	here	and	there.
	Spike	after	spike,	their	scanty	harvest	pick.
	Be	not	too	narrow,	husbandmen	;	but	fling
	From	the	full	sheaf,	with	charitable	stealth,
	The	liberal	handful.	Think,	oh,	grateful	think	!
	How	good	the	God	of	Harvest	is	to	you	;
	Who	pours	abundance	o'er	your	flowing	fields	;	*
	While	these	unhappy	partners	of	your	kind
	Wide-hover	round	you	like	the	fcwls	of	Heaven,


PART	II.
	LIBERTY.
	473
	them,	in	point	of	force	and	bravery,	over	the
	Persians,	exemplified	by	the	action	of	Thermo
	pylae,	the	battle	of	Marathon,	and	tin-	retreat	of
	tin-	ten	thousand.	Its	full	exertion,	and	most
	beautiful	cH'ects	in	Athens.	Liberty	the	source
	of	free	philosophy.	Tin-	various	schools	which
	took	their	rise	from	Socrates.	Enumeration	of
	fine	arts	:	eloquence,	poetry,	music,	sculpture,
	painting,	and	architecture;	the	effects	of	Liberty
	in	Greece,	and	brought	to	their	utmost	perfection
	there.	Transition	to	the	modern	state	of	Greece.
	Why	Liberty	declined,	and	was	at	last	entirely
	lost	among	the	Greeks.	Concluding	reflection.
	THUS	spoke	the	goddess	of	the	fearless	eye	;
	And	at	her	voice,	renew'd,	the	vision	rose.
	"	First	in	the	dawn	of	time,	with	eastern	swains,
	In	woods,	and	tents,	and	cottages,	I	liv'd	;
	While	on	from	plain	to	plain	they	led	their	flocks,
	In	search	of	clearer	spring,	and	fresher	field.
	These,	as	increasing	families	disclos'd
	The	tender	state,	I	taught	an	equal	sway.
	Few	were	offences,	properties,	and	laws.
	Beneath	the	rural	portal,	palm	o'erspread,
	The	father-senate	met.	There	Justice	dealt,
	With	reason	then	and	equity	the	same,
	Free	as	the	common	air,	her	prompt	decree	;
	Nor	yet	had	stain'd	her	sword	with	subject's	blood.
	The	simpler	arts	were	all	their	simple	wants
	Had	urg'd	to	light.	But	instant,	these	supply'd,
	Another	set	of	fonder	wants	arose,
	And	other	arts	with	them	of	finer	aim	;
	Till,	from	refining	want	to	want	impell'd,
	The	mind	by	thinking	push'd	her	latent	powers,
	And	life	began	to	glow,	and	arts	to	shine.
	"	At	first,	on	brutes	alone	the	rustic	war
	Launch'd	the	rude	spear	;	swift,	as	he	glar'd	along,
	On	the	grim	lion,	or	the	robber-wolf.
	For	then	young	sportive	life	was	void	of	toil,
	Demanding	little,	and	with	little	pleas'd	:
	But	when	to	manhood	grown,	and	endless	joys,
	Led	on	by	equal	toils,	the	bosom	fir'd	;
	Lewd	lazy	Rapine	broke	primeval	peace,
	And,	hid	in	caves	and	idle	forests	drear,
	From	the	lone	pilgrim	and	the	wandering	swain,
	Seiz'd	what	he	durst	not	earn.	Then	brother's	blood
	First,	horrid,	smok'd	on	the	polluted	skies.
	Aweful	in	justice,	then	the	burning	youth,
	Led	by	their	temper'd	sires,	on	lawless	men,
	The	last,	worst	monsters	of	the	fchaggy	wood,
	Turn'd	the	keen	arrow,	and	(he	sharpen'd	spear.
	Then	war	grew	glorious.	Heroes	then	arose	;
	Who,	scorning	coward	self,	for	others	liv'd,
	Toil'd	for	their	ease,	and	for	their	safety	bled.
	West	with	the	living	day	to	Greece	I	came	:
	Earth	smil'd	beneath	my	beam	:	the	Muse	before
	Sonorous	flew,	that	low	till	then	in	woods
	Had	tun'd	the	reed,	and	sigh'd	the	shepherd's	pain	;
	But	now,	to	sing	heroic	deeds,	she	swell'd
	A	nobler	note,	and	bade	the	banquet	burn.
	"	For	Greece,	my	sons	of	Egypt	I	forsook	:
	A	boastful	race,	that	in	the	vain	abyss
	Of	fabling	ages	lov'd	to	lose	their	source,
	And	with	their	river	trac'd	it	from	the	skies.
	While	there	my	laws	alone	despotic	reign'd,
	And	king,	as	well	as	people,	proud	obcy'd	:
	I	taught	them	science,	virtue,	wisdom,	arts	;
	By	poets,	sages,	legislators	sought	:
	Hie	school	of	polish'd	life,	and	human-kind.
	But	when	mysterious	Superstition	came,
	And,	with	her	civil	sister*	leagu'd,	involv'd
	In	study	'd	darkness	the	desponding	mind	;
	Then	tyrant	Power	the	righteous	scourge	unloos'd	:
	For	yielded	reason	speaks	the	soul	a	slave.
	Instead	of	useful	works,	like	Nature's,	great,
	Enormous,	cruel	wonders	crush'd	the	land	;
	And	round	a	tyrant's	tomb	f	,	who	none	deserv'd,
	For	one	vile	carcass	perish'd	countless	lives.
	Then	the	great	Dragon,	couch'd	amid	his	floods	f,
	Swell'd	his	fierce	heart,	and	cry'd	This	flood	is
	mine;
	'Tis	I	that	bid	it	flow.'	But,	undeceiv'd,
	His	phrenzy	soon	the	proud	blasphemer	felt	;
	Felt	that,	without	my	fertilizing	power,
	Suns	lost	their	force,	and	Niles	o'erflow'd	in	vain.
	Nought	could	retard	me	:	nor	the	frugal	state
	Of	rising	Persia,	sober	in	extreme,
	Beyond	the	pitch	of	man,	and	thence	revers'd
	Into	luxurious	waste	;	nor	yet	the	ports
	Of	old	Phoenicia	;	first	for	letters	fam'd,
	That	paint	the	voice,	and	silent	speak	to	sight,
	Of	arts	prime	source,	and	guardian	!	by	fair	stars.
	First	tempted	out	into	the	lonely	deep	;
	To	whom	I	first	disclos'd	mechanic	arts,
	The	winds	to	conquer,	to	subdue	the	waves,
	With	all	the	peaceful	power	of	ruling	trade	;
	Earnest	of	Britain.	Nor	by	these	retain'd	;
	Nor	by	the	neighbouring	land,	whose	palmy	shore
	The	silver	Jordan	laves.	Before	me	lay
	The	promis'd	land	of	arts,	and	urg'd	my	flight
	"	Hail	Nature's	utmost	boast	!	unrivall'd	Greece	!
	My	fairest	reign	!	where	every	power	benign
	Conspir'd	to	blow	the	flower	of	human-kind,
	And	lavish'd	all	that	genius	can	inspire.
	Clear	sunny	climates,	by	the	breezy	main,
	Ionian	or	JEgcan,	temper'd	kind,
	Light,	airy	soils.	A	country	rich,	and	gay	;
	Broke	into	hills	with	balmy	odours	crown'd,
	And,	bright	with	purple	harvest	joyous	vales.
	Mountains	and	streams,	where	verse	spontaneous
	flow'd	:
	Whence	deem'd	by	wondering	men	the	seat	of	gods,
	And	still	the	mountains	and	the	streams	of	song.
	All	that	boon	Nature	could	luxuriant	pour
	Of	high	materials,	and	my	restless	arts
	Frame	into	finish'd	life.	How	many	states,
	And	clustering	towns,	and	monuments	of	fame,
	And	scenes	of	glorious	deeds,	in	little	bounds	!
	From	the	rough	tract	of	bending	mountains,	beat
	By	Adria's	here,	there	by	JEgxan	waves	;
	To	where	the	deep	adorning	Cyclade	Isles
	In	shining	prospect	rise,	and	on	the	shore
	Of	farthest	Crete	resounds	the	Libyan	main.
	"	O'er	all	two	rival	cities	rear'd	the	brow,
	And	balanc'd	all.	Spread	on	Eurota's	bank,
	Amid	a	circle	of	soft-rising	hills,
	The	patient	Sparta	one	;	the	sober,	hard,
	And	man-subduing	city	;	which	no	shape
	Of	pain	could	conquer,	nor	of	pleasure	charm.
	Lycurgus	there	built,	on	the	solid	base
	Of	equal	life,	so	well	a	temper'd	state	;
	Where	inix'd	each	government,	in	such	just	poise;
	Ilacli	power	so	checking,	and	supporting,	each;
	That	lirm	for	ages,	and	unmov'd,	it	stood,
	Civil	tyranny,
	f	The	pyramids.
	J	The	tyrants	of	Egypt


PART	II.
	LIBERTY.
	475
	Of	Epicurus,	seldom	understood;
	They,	ever	candid,	reason	still	oppos'd
	To	reason	;	and,	since	virtue	was	their	aim,
	Each	by	sure	practice	try'd	to	prove	his	way
	The	best.	Then	stood	untouch'd	the	solid	base
	Of	Liberty,	the	liberty	of	mind	:
	For	systems	yet,	and	soul-enslaving	creeds,
	Slept	with	the	monsters	of	succeeding	times.
	From	priestly	darkness	sprung	th'	enlightening	arts
	Of	fire,	and	sword,	and	rage,	and	horrid	names.
	"	O,	Greece	!	thou	sapient	nurse	of	finer	arts	!
	Which	to	bright	science	blooming	fancy	bore,
	Be	this	thy	praise,	that	thou,	and	thou	alone,
	In	these	liast	led	the	way,	in	these	excell'd,
	Crown'd	with	the	laurel	of	assenting	time.
	"	In	thy	full	language,	speaking	mighty	things	;
	Like	a	clear	torrent	close,	or	else	diffus'd
	A	broad	majestic	stream,	and	rolling	on
	Through	all	the	winding	harmony	of	sound	:
	In	it	the	power	of	eloquence,	at	large,
	Breath'd	the	persuasive	or	pathetic	soul	;
	Stil	1M	by	degrees	the	democratic	storm,
	Or	bade	it	threatening	rise,	and	tyrants	shook,
	Flush'd	at	the	head	of	their	victorious	troops.
	In	it	the	Muse,	her	fury	never	quench'd,
	By	mean	unyielding	phrase,	or	jarring	sound,
	Her	unconfin'd	divinity	display'd	;
	And,	still	harmonious,	form'd	it	to	her	will	:
	Or	soft	depress	'd	it	to	the	shepherd's	moan,
	Or	rais'd	it	swelling	to	the	tongue	of	gods.
	"	Heroic	song	was	thine	;	the	fountain-bard	*,
	Whence	each	poetic	stream	derives	its	course.
	Thine	the	dread	moral	scene,	thy	chief	delight	!
	Where	idle	Fancy	durst	not	mix	her	voice,
	When	Reason	spoke	august	;	the	fervent	heart
	Or	plain'd,	or	storm'd	;	and	in	th'	impassion'd	man,
	Concealing	art	with	art,	the	poet	sunk.
	This	potent	school	of	manners,	(but	when	left
	To	loose	neglect,	a	land-corrupting	plague,)
	Was	not	unworthy	deem'd	of	public	care,
	And	boundless	cost,	by	thee	;	whose	every	son,
	Ev'n	last	mechanic,	the	true	taste	possess'd
	Of	what	had	flavour	to	the	nourish'd	soul.
	"	The	sweet	enforce	9f	the	poet's	strain,
	Thine	was	the	meaning	music	of	the	heart.
	Not	the	vain	trill,	that,	void	of	passion,	runs
	In	giddy	mazes,	tickling	idle	ears	;
	But	that	deep-searching	voice,	and	artful	hand,
	To	which	respondent	shakes	the	varied	soul.
	"	Thy	fair	ideas,	thy	delightful	forms,
	By	Love	imagin'd,	by	the	Graces	touch'd,
	The	boast	of	well-pleas'd	Nature	!	Sculpture	seiz'd,
	And	bade	them	ever	smile	in	Parian	stone.
	Selecting	beauty's	choice,	and	that	again
	Exalting,	blending	in	a	perfect	whole,
	Thy	workmen	left	ev'n	Nature's	self	behind.
	From	those	far	different,	whose	prolific	hand
	Peoples	a	nation	;	they,	for	years	on	years,
	By	the	cool	touches	of	judicious	toil,
	Their	rapid	genius	curbing,	pour'd	it	all
	Through	the	live	features	of	one	breathing	stone.
	There,	beaming	full,	it	shone,	expressing	gods	:
	Jove's	aweful	brow,	Apollo's	air	divine,
	The	fierce	atrocious	frown	of	sinew'd	Mars,
	Or	the	sly	graces	of	the	Cyprian	queen.
	Minutely	perfect	all	!	Each	dimple	sunk,
	And	every	muscle	swell'd,	as	Nature	taught,
	*	Homer.
	In	tresses,	braided	gay,	the	marble	wav'd	;
	Flow'd	in	loose	robes,	or	thin	transparent	veils	;
	Sprung	into	motion	;	soften'd	into	flesh	;
	Was	fir'd	to	passion,	or	refin'd	to	soul.
	"	Nor	less	thy	pencil,	with	creative	touch,
	Shed	mimic	life,	when	all	thy	brightest	dames,
	Assembled,	Zeuxis	in	his	Helen	mix'd.
	And	when	Apelles,	who	peculiar	knew
	To	give	a	grace	that	more	than	mortal	smil'd,
	The	soul	of	beauty	!	call'd	the	queen	of	Love,
	Fresh	from	the	billows,	bluslting	orient	charms.
	Ev'n	such	enchantment	then	thy	pencil	pour'd,
	That	cruel-thoughted	War	th'	impatient	torch
	Dash'd	to	the	ground	;	and,	rather	than	destroy
	The	patriot	picture,	let	the	city	'scape,	f
	"	First	elder	Sculpture	taught	her	sister	Art
	Correct	design	;	where	great	ideas	shone,
	And	in	the	secret-trace	expression	spoke	:
	Taught	her	the	graceful	attitude	;	the	turn,
	And	beauteous	airs	of	head	;	the	native	act,
	Or	bold,	or	easy	;	and,	cast	free	behind,
	The	swelling	mantle's	well-adjusted	flow.
	Then	the	bright	Muse,	their	elder	sister,	came	;
	And	bade	her	follow	where	she	led	the	way	:
	Bade	earth,	and	sea,	and	air,	in	colours	rise	;
	And	copious	action	on	the	canvass	glow	:
	Gave	her	gay	fable	;	spread	invention's	store	;
	Enlarg'd	her	view	;	taught	composition	high,
	And	just	arrangement,	circling	round	one	point,
	That	starts	to	sight,	binds	and	commands	the	whole.
	Caught	from	the	heavenly	Muse	a	nobler	aim,
	And,	scorning	the	soft	trade	of	mere	delight,
	O'er	all	thy	temples,	porticoes,	and	schools,
	Heroic	deeds	she	trac'd,	and	warm	display'd
	Each	moral	beauty	to	the	ravish'd	eye.
	There,	as	th'	imagin'd	presence	of	the	god
	Arous'd	the	mind,	or	vacant	hours	induc'd
	Calm	contemplation,	or	assembled	youth
	Burn'd	in	ambitious	circle	round	the	sage,
	The	living	lesson	stole	into	the	heart,
	With	more	prevailing	force	than	dwells	in	words.
	These	rouse	to	glory	;	while,	to	rural	life,
	The	softer	canvass	oft	repos'd	the	soul.
	There	gaily	broke	the	sun-illumin'd	cloud	;
	The	lessening	prospect,	and	the	mountain	blue,
	Vanish'd	in	air	;	the	precipice	frown'd,	dire	;
	White,	down	the	rock	the	rushing	torrent	dash'd	;
	The	Sun	shone,	trembling,	o'er	the	distant	main	;
	The	tempest	foam'd,	immense	;	the	driving	storm
	Sadden'd	the	skies,	and,	from	the	doubling	gloom,
	On	the	scath'd	oak	the	ragged	lightning	fell	;
	In	closing	shades,	and	where	the	current	strays,
	With	peace,	and	love,	and	innocence	around,
	Pip'd	the	lone	shepherd	to	his	feeding	flock	:
	Round	happy	parents	smil'd	their	younger	selves;
	And	friends	convers'd,	by	death	divided	long.
	"	To	public	Virtue	thus	the	smiling	Arts,
	Unblemrsh'd	handmaids,	serv'd	!	the	Graces	they
	To	dress	this	fairest	Venus.	Thus	rever'd,
	And	plac'd	beyond	the	reach	of	sordid	care,
	The	high	awarders	of	immortal	fame,
	Alone	for	glory	thy	great	masters	strove	;
	f	When	Demetrius	besieged	Rhodes,	and	could
	have	reduced	the	city,	by	setting	fire	to	that	quarter
	of	it,	where	stood	the	house	of	the	celebrated	Pro-
	togenes,	he	chose	rather	to	raise	the	siege,	tlian
	hazard	the	burning	of	a	famous	picture	called
	Jalysus,	the	master-piece	of	that	painter.


478
	THOMSON.
	PART	III.
	Had	he	beheld	the	living	chain	ascend,
	And	not	a	circling	form,	but	rising	whole.
	"	Amid	these	small	republics	one	arose,
	On	yellow	Tyber's	bank,	almighty	Rome,
	Fated	for	me.	A	nobler	spirit	warm'd
	Her	sons	;	and,	rous'd	by	tyrants,	nobler	still
	It	burn'd	in	Brutus	:	the	proud	Tarquins	chas'd,
	With	all	their	crimes	;	bade	radiant	eras	rise,
	And	the	long	honours	of	the	consul-line.
	"	Here,	from	the	fairer,	not	the	greater,	plan
	Of	Greece	I	vary'd	;	whose	unmixing	states,
	By	the	keen	soul	of	emulation	pierc'd,
	Long	wag'd	alone	the	bloodless	war	of	arts,
	And	their	best	empire	gain'd.	But	to	diffuse
	O'er	men	an	empire	was	my	purpose	now	:
	To	let	my	martial	majesty	abroad	;
	Into	the	vortex	of	one	state	to	draw
	The	whole	mix'd	force,	and	liberty,	on	Earth	;
	To	conquer	tyrants,	and	set	nations	free.
	"	Already	have	I	given,	with	flying	touch,
	A	broken	view	of	this	my	amplest	reign.
	Now,	while	its	first,	last,	periods	you	survey,
	Mark	how	it	labouring	rose,	and	rapid	fell,	[world,
	"	When	Rome	in	noon-tide	empire	grasp'd	the
	And,	soon	as	her	resistless	legions	shone,
	The	nations	stoop'd	around	:	though	then	appear'd
	Her	grandeur	most,	yet	in	her	dawn	of	power,
	By	many	a	jealous	equal	people	press'd,
	Then	was	the	toil,	the	mighty	struggle	then	j
	Then	for	each	Roman	I	an	hero	told	;
	And	every	passing	sun,	and	Latian	scene,
	Saw	patriot	virtues	then,	and	aweful	deeds,
	That	or	surpass	the	faith	of	modern	times.
	Or,	if	believ'd,	with	sacred	horrour	strike.
	"	For	then,	to	prove	my	most	exalted	power,
	I	to	the	point	of	full	perfection	push'd,
	To	fondness	or	enthusiastic	zeal,
	The	great,	the	reigning	passion	of	the	free.
	That	godlike	passion	!	which,	the	bounds	of	self
	Divinely	bursting,	the	whole	public	takes
	Into	the	heart,	enlarg'd,	and	burning	high
	With	the	mix'd	ardour	of	unnumber'd	selves	;
	Of	all	who	safe	beneath	the	voted	laws
	Of	the	same	parent	state,	fraternal,	live.
	From	this	kind	sun	of	moral	nature	flow'd
	Virtues,	that	shine	the	light	of	human	kind,
	And,	ray'd	through	story,	warm	remotest	time.
	These	virtues,	too,	reflected	to	their	source,
	Increas'd	its	flame.	The	social	charm	went	round,
	The	fair	idea,	more	attractive	still,
	As	more	by	virtue	mark'd	:	till	Romans,	all
	One	band	of	friends,	unconquerable	grew,	[voice,
	"	Hence,	when	their	country	rais'd	her	plaintive
	The	voice	of	pleading	Nature	was	not	heard	;
	And	in	their	hearts	the	fathers	throbb'd	no	more	:
	Stern	to	themselves,	but	gentle	to	the	whole.
	Hence	sweeten'd	pain,	the	luxury	of	toil	;
	Patience,	that	baffled	Fortune's	utmost	rage	;
	High-minded	Hope,	which	at	the	lowest	ebb,
	When	Brennus	conquer'd,	and	when	Cannae	bled,
	The	bravest	impulse	felt,	and	scorn'd	despair.
	Hence,	Moderation	a	new	conquest	gain'd	;
	As	on	the	vanquish'd,	like	descending	Heaven,
	Their	dewy	mercy	dropp'd,	their	bounty	beam'd,
	And	by	the	labouring	hand	were	crowns	bestow'd.
	Fruitful	of	men,	hence	hard	laborious	life,
	Which	no	fatigue	can	quell,	no	season	pierce.
	Hence,	Independence,	with	his	little	pieas'd,
	Serene,	and	self-sufficient,	like	a	god	;
	In	whom	Corruption	could	not	lodge	one	charm,
	While	he	his	honest	roots	to	gold	preferr'd	;
	While	truly	rich,	and	by	his	Sabine	field,
	The	man	maintain'	d,	the	Roman's	splendour	all
	Was	in	the	public	wealth	and	glory	plac'd	:
	Or	ready,	a	rough	swain,	to	guide	the	plough	j
	Or	else,	the	purple	o'er	his	shoulder	thrown,
	In	long	majestic	flow,	to	rule	the	state,
	With	Wisdom's	purest	eye;	or,	clad	in	steel,
	To	'drive	the	steady	battle	on	the	foe.
	Hence	every	passion,	ev'n	the	proudest,	stoop'd
	To	common	good	:	Camillus,	thy	revenge	;
	Thy	glory,	Fabius.	All	submissive	hence,
	Consuls,	dictators,	still	resign'd	their	rule,
	The	very	moment	that	the	laws	ordain'd.
	Though	Conquest	o'er	them	clapp'd	her	eagle-	wings,
	Her	laurels	wreath'd,	and	yok'd	her	snowy	steeds
	To	the	triumphal	car	;	soon	as	expir'd
	The	latest	hour	of	sway,	taught	to	submit,
	(	A	harder	lesson	that	than	to	command,)
	Into	the	private	Roman	sunk	the	chief.
	If	Rome	was	serv'd,	and	glorious,	careless	they
	By	whom.	Their	country's	fame	they	deem'd	their
	own;
	And,	above	envy,	in	a	rival's	train,
	Sung	the	loud	Ibs	by	themselves	deserv'd.
	Hence	matchless	courage.	On	Cremera's	bank,
	Hence	fell	the	Fabii	;	hence	the	Decii	dy'd	;
	And	Curtius	plung'd	into	the	flaming	gulph.
	Hence	Regulus	the	wavering	fathers	firm'd,
	By	dreadful	counsel	never	given	before,
	For	Roman	honour	sued,	and	his	own	c'oom.
	Hence	he	sustain'	d	to	dare	a	death	prepar'd
	By	Punic	rage.	On	earth	his	manly	look
	Relentless	fix'd,	he	from	a	last	embrace,
	By	chains	polluted,	put	his	wife	aside,
	His	little	children	climbing	for	a	kiss	;	[friends,
	Then	dumb	through	rows	of	weeping	wondering
	A	new	illustrious	exile	!	press'd	along.
	Nor	less	impatient	did	he	pierce	the	crowds
	Opposing	his	return,	than	if,	escap'd
	From	long	litigious	suits,	he	glad	forsook
	The	noisy	town	awhile,	and	city	cloud,
	To	breathe	Venafrian,	or	Tarentine	air.
	Need	I	these	high	particulars	recount	?
	The	meanest	bosom	felt	a	thirst	for	fame	;
	Flight	their	worst	death,	and	shame	their	only	fear.
	Life	had	no	charms,	nor	any	terrours	fate,
	When	Rome	and	glory	call'd.	But,	in	one	view,
	Mark	the	rare	boast	of	these	unequall'd	times.
	Ages	revolv'd	unsully'd	by	a	crime	:
	Astrea	reign'd,	and	scarcely	needed	laws
	To	bind	a	race	elated	with	the	pride
	Of	virtue,	and	disdaining	to	descend
	To	meanness,	mutual	violence,	and	wrongs.
	While	war	around	them	rag'd,	in	happy	Rome
	All	peaceful	smil'd,	all	save	the	passing	clouds
	That	often	hang	on	Freedom's	jealous	brow	!
	And	fair	unblemish'd	centuries	elaps'd,
	When	not	a	Roman	bled	but	in	the	field.
	Their	virtue	such,	that	an	unbalanc'd	state,
	Still	between	noble	and	plebeian	tost,
	As	flow'd	the	wave	of	fluctuating	power,
	Was	thence	kept	firm,	and	with	triumphant	prow
	Rode	out	the	storms.	Oft	though	the	native	feuds,
	That	from	the	first	their	constitution	shook,
	(A	latent	ruin,	growing	as	it	grew,)
	Stood	on	the	threatening	point	of	civil	war
	Ready	to	rush	:	yet	could	the	lenient	voice
	Of	wisdom,	soothing	the	tumultuous	soul,
	Those	sons	of	virtue	calm.	Their	generous	hearts,


490
	THOMSON.
	PART	IV.
	Branch'd	into	fair	canals,	indulgent	flows	,
	Waters	a	thousand	fields	;	and	culture,	trade,
	Towns,	meadows,	gliding	ships,	and	villas	mix'd,
	A	rich,	a	wondrous	landscape	rises	round.
	"	His	furious	son*	the	soul-enslaving	chain	f,
	Which	many	a	doating	venerable	age
	Had	link	by	link	strong-twisted	round	the	land,
	Shook	off.	No	longer	could	be	borne	a	power,
	From	Heaven	pretended,	to	deceive,	to	void
	Each	solemn	tie,	to	plunder	without	bounds,
	To	curb	the	generous	soul,	to	fool	mankind	;
	And,	wild	at	last,	to	plunge	into	a	sea
	Of	blood,	and	horrour.	The	returning	light,
	That	first	through	Wickliff'f	streak'd	the	priestly
	gloom,
	Now	burst	in	open	day.	.	Bar'd	to	the	blaze,
	Forth	from	the	haunts	of	superstition	crawl'd
	Her	motley	sons,	fantastic	figures	all	;
	And,	wide-dispers'd	their	useless	fetid	wealth
	In	graceful	labour	bloom'd,	and	fruits	of	peace.
	"	Trade,	join'd	to	these,	on	every	sea	display'd
	A	daring	canvass,	pour'd	with	every	tide
	A	golden	flood.	From	other	worlds	||	were	roll'd
	The	guilty	glittering	stores,	whose	fatal	charms,
	By	the	plain	Indian	happily	despis'd,
	Yet	work'd	his	woe	;	and	to	the	blissful	groves,
	Where	Nature	liv'd	herself	among	her	sons,
	And	innocence	and	joy	for	ever	dwelt,
	Drew	rage	unknown	to	Pagan	climes	before,
	The	worst	the	zeal	inflain'd	barbarian	drew.
	Be	no	such	horrid	commerce,	Britain,	thine	!
	But	want	for	want,	with	mutual	aid	supply.
	"	The	commons	thus	enrich'd,	and	powerful
	grown,
	Against	the	barons	weigh'd.	Eliza	then,
	Amid	these	doubtful	motions,	steady,	gave
	The	beam	to	fix.	She	!	like	the	secret	eye
	That	never	closes	on	a	guarded	world,
	So	sought,	so	mark'd,	so	seiz'd	the	public	good,
	That	self-supported,	without	one	ally,
	She	aw'd	her	inward,	quell'd	her	circling	foes.
	Inspir'd	by	me,	beneath	her	sheltering	arm,
	In	spite	of	raging	universal	sway	f	,
	And	raging	seas	repress'd,	the	Belgic	states,
	My	bulwark	on	the	Continent,	arose.
	Matchless	in	all	the	spirit	of	her	days	!
	With	confidence,	unbounded,	fearless	love
	Elate,	her	fervent	people	waited	gay,
	Cheerful	demanded	the	long-threaten	'd	fleet**,
	And	dash'd	the	pride	of	Spain	around	their	isle.
	Nor	ceas'd	the	British	thunder	here	to	rage	:
	The	deep,	reclaim'd,	obey'd	its	aweful	call	;
	In	fire	and	smoke	Iberian	ports	involv'd,
	The	trembling	foe	ev'n	to	the	centre	shook
	Of	their	new-conquer'd	world,	and	skulking	stole
	By	veering	winds	their	Indian	treasure	home.
	*	Henry	VIII.	}	Of	papal	dominion.
	\	John	WicklifF,	doctor	of	divinity,	who,	towards
	the	close	of	the	fourteenth	century,	published	doc
	trines	very	contrary	to	those	of	the	church	of	Rome,
	and	particularly	denying	the	papal	authority.	His
	followers	grew	very	numerous,	and	were	called
	Lollards.
	Suppression	of	monasteries.
	!|	The	Spanish	West	Indies.
	^	The	dominion	of	the	House	of	Austria.
	**	The	Spanish	Armada.	Rapin	says,	that	after
	proper	measures	had	been	taken,	the	enemy	was
	expected	with	uncommon	alacrity.
	I	Meantime,	peace,	plenty,	justice,	science,	arts,
	With	softer	laurels	crown	'd	her	happy	reign.
	"	As	yet	uncircumscrib'd	the	regal	power,
	And	wild	and	vague	prerogative	remain	'd,
	A	wide	voracious	gulph,	where	swallow'd	oft
	The	helpless	subject	lay.	This	to	reduce
	To	the	just	limit	was	my	great	effort.
	"	By	means	that	evil	seem	to	narrow	man,
	Superior	beings	work	their	mystic	will	:
	From	storm	and	trouble	thus	a	settled	calm,
	At	last,	effulgent,	o'er	Britannia	smil'd.	[came,
	"	The	gathering	tempest,	Heaven-commission'd,
	Came	in	the	prince	*,	who,	drunk	with	flattery,
	dreamt,
	His	vain	pacific	counsels	rul'd	the	world	;
	Though	scorn'd	abroad,	bewilder'd	in	a	maze
	Of	fruitless	treaties	;	while	at	home	enslav'd,
	And	by	a	worthless	crew	insatiate	drain'd,
	He	lost	his	people's	confidence	and	love	;
	Irreparable	loss	!	whence	crowns	become
	An	anxious	burden.	Years	inglorious	pass'd	:
	Triumphant	Spain	the	vengeful	draught	enjoy'd	:
	Abandon'd	Frederick	-j-	pin'd,	and	Raleigh	bled,
	But	nothing	that	to	these	internal	broils,
	That	rancour,	he	began	;	while	lawless	sway
	He,	with	his	slavish	doctors,	try'd	to	rear
	On	metaphysic,	on	enchanted	ground	J,
	And	all	the	mazy	quibbles	of	the	schools	:
	As	if	for	one,	and	sometimes	for	the	worst,
	Heaven	had	mankind	in	vengeance	only	made.
	Vain	the	pretence	!	not	so	the	dire	effect,
	The	fierce,	the	foolish	discord	thence	deriv'd	,
	That	tears	the	country	still,	by	party-rage
	And	ministerial	clamour	kept	alive.
	In	action	weak,	and	for	the	wordy	war
	Best	fitted,	faint	this	prince	pursu'd	his	claim	:
	Content	to	teach	the	subject	herd,	how	great,
	How	sacred	he	!	how	despicable	they	!
	'	But	his	unyielding	son	||	these	doctrines	drank.
	With	all	a	bigot's	rage	(who	never	damps
	By	reasoning	his	fire)	;	and	what	they	taught
	Warm	and	tenacious,	into	practice	push'd.
	Senates,	in	vain,	their	kind	restraint,	apply'd	:
	The	more	they	struggled	to	support	the	laws,
	His	justice-dreading	mini;
	Drove	him	beyond	their
	ministers	the	more
	[check
	beyond	their	bounds.	Tir'd	with	the
	Of	faithful	love,	and	with	the	flattery	pleas'd
	3f	false	designing	guilt,	the	fountain	he
	3f	public	wisdom	and	of	justice	shut,	^f
	Wide	mourn'd	the	land.	Straight	to	the	voted	aid
	Free,	cordial,	large,	of	never-failing	source,
	Th'	illegal	imposition	follow	'd	harsh,
	iVith	execration	given,	or	ruthless	equeez'd
	?rom	an	insulted	people,	by	a	band
	Of	the	worst	ruffians,	those	of	tyrant	power.
	Oppression	walk'd	at	large,	and	pour'd	abroad
	*	James	I.
	f	Elector	Palatine,	and	who	had	been	chosen
	ing	of	Bohemia,	but	was	stript	of	all	his	domi
	ions	and	dignities	by	the	Emperor	Ferdinand,
	while	James	the	First,	his	father-in-law,	being
	amused	from	time	to	time,	endeavoured	to	mediate
	peace.
	|	The	monstrous,	and	till	then	unheard-of	doc-
	rines	of	divine	indefeasible	hereditary	right,	passive
	bedienee,	c.
	The	parties	of	Whig	and	Tory.
	U	Charles	I.
	<	Parliaments.


PART	IV.
	LIBERTY.
	491
	Her	unrelenting	train	:	informers,	spies,
	Blood-hounds,	that	sturdy	freedom	to	the	grove
	Pursue;	projectors	of	aggrieving	NlMOMI
	Commerce	to	load	for	unprotected	seas	*,
	To	sell	the	starving	many	to	the	few	f	,
	And	drain	a	thousand	ways	th*	exhausted	land.
	Ev'n	from	that	healing	place,	whence	peace	should
	flow,
	And	gospel	truth,	inhuman	bigots	shed
	Their	poison	round	f	;	and	on	the	venal	bench,
	Instead	of	justice,	party	held	the	scale,
	And	violence	the	sword.	Afflicted	years,
	Too	patient,	felt	at	last	their	vengeance	full.
	"	Mid	the	low	murmurs	of	submissive	fear
	And	mingled	rage,	my	Hampden	rais'd	his	voice,
	And	to	the	laws	appeal'd	;	the	laws	no	more
	In	judgment	sate	behoved	some	other	ear.
	When	instant	from	the	keen	resentive	North,
	By	long	oppression	by	religion	rous'd,
	The	guardian	army	came.	Beneath	its	wing
	Was	called,	though	meant	to	furnish	hostile	aid,
	The	more	than	Roman	senate.	There	a	flame
	Broke	out,	that	clear'd,	consum'd,	renew'd	the
	land.
	In	deep	emotion	hurl'd,	nor	Greece,	nor	Rome,
	Indignant	bursting	from	a	tyrant's	chain,
	While,	full	of	me,	each	agitated	soul
	Strung	every	nerve,	and	flam'd	in	every	eye,
	Had	e'er	beheld	such	light	and	heat	combin'd	!
	Such	heads	and	hearts	!	such	dreadful	zeal,	led	on
	By	calm	majestic	wisdom,	taught	its	course
	What	nuisance	to	devour;	such	wisdom	fir'd
	With	unabating	zeal,	and	aim'd	sincere
	To	clear	the	weedy	state,	restore	the	laws,
	And	for	the	future	to	secure	their	sway.
	"	Tliis	then	the	purpose	of	my	mildest	sons.
	But	man	is	blind.	A	nation	once	inflam'd
	(Chief,	should	the	breath	of	factious	fury	blow,
	With	the	wild	rage	of	mad	enthusiast	swell'd)
	Not	easy	cools	again.	From	breast	to	breast,
	From	eye	to	eye,	the	kindling	passions	mix
	In	heighten'd	blaze	;	and,	ever	wise	and	just,
	High	Heaven	to	gracious	ends	directs	the	storm.
	Thus,	in	one	conflagration	Britain	wrapt,
	And	by	confusion's	lawless	sons	despoil'd,	[ground,
	King,	lords,	and	commons,	thundering	to	the
	Successive,	rush'd	Lo	!	from	their	ashes	rose,
	Gay.beaming	radiant	youth,	the	phoenix-state.
	"	The	grievous	yoke	of	vassalage,	the	yoke
	Of	private	life,	lay	by	those	flames	dissolv'd	;
	And,	from	the	wasteful,	the	luxurious	king	||	,
	Was	purchas'd	that	which	taught	the	young	to
	bend.	5
	Stronger	restor'd,	the	commons	tax'd	the	whole,
	And	built	on	that	eternal	rock	their	power.
	The	crown,	of	its	hereditary	wealth
	Despoil'd,	on	senates	more	dependent	grew,
	And	they	more	frequent,	more	assur'd.	Yet	liv'd,
	And	in	full	vigour	spread	that	bitter	root,
	The	passive	doctrines,	by	their	patrons	first
	*	Sliip-money.
	f-	Monopolies.
	{	The	raging	high-church	sermons	of	these
	times,	inspiring	at	once	a	spirit	of	slavish	submis
	sion	to	the	court,	and	of	bitter	persecution	against
	those	whom	they	call	Church	and	State	Puritans.
	At	the	Restoration.
	||	Charles	II.
	Court	of	wards.
	Oppos'd	ferocious,	when	they	touch	themselves.
	This	wild	delusive	cant	;	the	rash	cabal
	Of	hungry	courtiers,	ravenous	for	prey	;
	The	bigot,	restless	in	a	double	chain
	To	bind	anew	the	land	;	the	constant	need
	Of	finding	faithless	means,	of	shifting	forms,
	And	flattering	senates,	to	supply	his	waste	;
	These	tore	some	moments	from	the	careless	prince,
	And	in	his	breast	awak'd	the	kindred	plan.
	By	dangerous	softness	long	he	min'd	his	way	;
	By	subtle	arts,	dissimulation	deep	;
	By	sharing	what	corruption	shower'd,	profuse;
	By	breathing	wide	the	gay	licentious	plague,
	And	pleasing	manners,	fitted	to	deceive.
	"	At	last	subsided	the	delirious	joy,
	On	whose	high	billow,	from	the	saintly	reign
	The	nation	drove	too	far.	A	pension	'd	king,
	Against	his	country	brib'd	by	Gallic	gold	;
	The	port	*	pernicious	sold,	the	Scylla	since,
	And	fell	Charybdis	of	the	British	seas;
	Freedom	attack	'd	abroad	f,	with	surer	blow
	To	cut	it	oft'	at	home	;	the	saviour	league	\
	Of	Europe	broke	;	the	progress	ev'n	advanc'd
	Of	universal	sway	,	which	to	reduce
	Such	seas	of	blood	and	treasure	Britain	cost	;
	The	millions,	by	a	generous	people	given,
	Or	squander'd	vile,	or	to	corrupt,	disgrace,
	And	awe	the	land	with	forces	not	their	own	||,
	Employ	'd	;	the	darling	church	herself	betray	'd;
	All	these,	broad-glaring,	op'd	the	general	eye,
	And	wak'd	my	spirit,	the	resisting	soul.
	"	Mild	was,	at	first,	and	half	asham'd,	the	check
	Of	senates,	shook	from	the	fantastic	dream
	Of	absolute	submission,	tenets	vile	!	[reduc'd
	Which	slaves	would	blush	to	own,	and	which,
	To	practice,	always	honest	Nature	shock.
	Not	ev'n	the	mask	remov'd,	and	the	fierce	front
	Of	tyranny	disclos'd	;	nor	trampled	laws	;
	Nor	seiz'd	each	badge	of	freedom	through	the
	land	J	;
	For	Sidney	bleeding	for	the	unpublish'd	page;
	Nor	on	the	bench	avow'd	corruption	plac'd,
	And	murderous	rage	itself,	in	Jefferies'	form	;
	Nor	endless	acts	of	arbitrary	power,
	Cruel,	and	false,	could	raise	the	public	arm.
	Distrustful,	scatter'd,	of	combining	chiefs
	Devoid,	and	dreading	blind	rapacious	war,
	The	patient	public	turns	not,	till	impell'd
	To	the	near	verge	of	ruin.	Hence	I	rous'd
	The	bigot	king	**,	and	hurried	fated	on
	His	measures	immature.	But	chief	his	zeal,
	Out-flaming	Rome	herself,	portentous	scar'd
	The	troubled	nation	:	Mary's	horrid	days
	To	fancy	bleeding	rose,	and	the	dire	glare
	Of	Smithfield	lighten'd	in	his	eyes	anew.
	Yet	silence	reign'd.	Each	on	another	scowl'd
	Rueful	amazement,	pressing	down	his	rage	:
	As,	mustering	vengeance,	the	deep	thunder	frowns,
	Awefully	still,	waiting	the	high	command
	To	spring.	Straight	from	his	country	Europe	sav'd,
	*	Dunkirk.
	f	The	war,	in	conjunction	with	France,	against
	the	Dutch.
	The	triple	alliance.
	Under	Lewis	XIV.
	A	standing	army,	raised	without	the	consent
	of	parliament.
	^	The	charters	of	corporations,
	**	James	II.


664
	SMOLLETT.
	No	torrents	stain	thy	limpid	source	;
	No	rocks	impede	thy	dimpling	course,
	That	sweetly	warbles	o'er	its	bed,
	With	white,	round,	polish'd	pebbles	spread	;
	While,	lightly	pois'd,	the	scaly	brood
	In	myriads	cleave	thy	crystal	flood	;
	The	springing	trout	in	speckled	pride	;
	The	salmon,	monarch	of	the	tide	;
	The	ruthless	pike,	intent	on	war	;
	The	silver	eel,	and	mottled	par.
	Devolving	from	thy	parent	lake,
	A	charming	maze	thy	waters	make,
	By	bowers	of	birch,	and	groves	of	pine,
	And	hedges	flower'd	with	eglantine.
	Still	on	thy	banks	so	gaily	green,
	May	num'rous	herds	and	flocks	be	seen,
	And	lasses	chanting	o'er	the	pail,
	And	shepherds	piping	in	the	dale,
	And	ancient	Faith	that	knows	no	guile,
	And	Industry	imbrown'd	with	toil,
	And	hearts	resolv'd,	and	hands	prepar'd,
	The	blessings	they	enjoy	to	guard-
	DDE	TO	INDEPENDENCE.
	THY	spirit,	Independence,	let	me	share	!
	Lord	of	the	lion-heart	and	eagle-eye,
	Thy	steps	I	follow	with	my	bosom	bare,
	Nor	heed	the	storm	that	howls	along	the	sky.
	Deep	in	the	frozen	regions	of	the	north,
	A	goddess	violated	brought	thee	forth.
	Immortal	Liberty,	whose	look	sublime
	Hath	bleach'd	the	tyrant's	cheek	in	every	varying
	clime.
	What	time	the	iron-hearted	Gaul
	With	frantic	Superstition	for	his	guide,
	Arm'd	with	the	dagger	and	the	pall,
	The	sons	of	Woden	to	the	field	defy'd	:
	The	ruthless	hag,	by	Weser's	flood,
	In	Heaven's	name	urg'd	th'	infernal	blow	;
	And	red	the	stream	began	to	flow	:
	The	vanquish'd	were	baptizM	with	blood.
	ANTISfROPHE.
	The	Saxon	prince	in	horrour	fled
	From	altars	stain'd	with	human	gore
	And	Liberty	his	routed	legions	led
	In	safety	to	the	bleak	Norwegian	shore.
	There	in	a	cave	asleep	she	lay,
	Lull'd	by	the	hoarse-resounding	main	;
	When	a	bold	savage	past	that	way,
	Impell'd	by	Destiny,	his	name	Disdain.
	Of	ample	front	the	portly	chief	appear'd	:
	The	hunted	bear	supply'd	a	shaggy	vest	;
	The	drifted	snow	hung	on	his	yellow	beard	;
	And	his	broad	shoulders	brav'd	the	furious	blast
	He	stopt	:	he	gaz'd	;	his	bosom	glow'd,
	And	deeply	felt	the	impression	of	her	charms	.
	He	seiz'd	the	advantage	Fate	allow'd	;
	And	straight	compress'd	her	in	his	vig'rous	arms.
	*	The	par	is	a	small	fish,	not	unlike	the	smelt,
	which	it	rivals	in	delicacy	and	flavour.
	The	curlieu	screarn'd,	the	Tritons	blew
	Their	shells	to	celebrate	the	ravish'd	rite	;
	Old	Time	exulted	as	he	flew	;
	And	Independence	saw	the	light.
	The	light	he	saw	in	Albion's	happy	plains,
	Where	under	cover	of	a	flowering	thorn,
	While	Philomel	renew'd	her	warbled	strains,
	The	auspicious	fruit	of	stol'n	embrace	was	born
	The	mountain	Dryads	seiz'd	with	joy,
	The	smiling	infant	to	their	charge	consign'd	;
	The	Doric	Muse	caress'd	the	favourite	boy	;
	The	hermit	Wisdom	stor'd	his	opening	mind.
	As	rolling	years	matur'd	his	age,
	He	flourish'd	bold	and	sinewy	as	his	sire	;
	While	the	mild	passions	in	his	breast	assuage
	The	fiercer	flames	of	his	maternal	sire.
	ANTISTROPHE.
	Accomplished	thus,	he	wing'd	his	way,
	And	zealous	roved	from	pole	to	pole,
	The	rolls	of	right	eternal	to	display,
	And	warm	with	patriot	thoughts	the	aspiring	soul.
	On	desert	isles	it	was	he	that	rais'd
	Those	spires	that	gild	the	Adriatic	wave,
	Where	Tyranny	beheld	amaz'd
	Fair	Freedom's	temple,	where	he	mark'd	her	grave.
	He	steel'd	the	blunt	Batavian's	arms
	To	burst	the	Iberian's	double	chain	;
	And	cities	rear'd,	and	planted	farms,
	Won	from	the	skirts	of	Neptune's	wide	domain.
	He,	with	the	generous	rustics,	sate
	On	Uri's	rocks	in	close	divan	f	;
	And	wing'd	that	arrow	sure	as	fate,
	Which	ascertain'd	the	sacred	rights	of	man.
	Arabia's	scorching	sands	he	cross'	d,
	Where	blasted	nature	pants	supine,
	Conductor	of	her	tribes	adust,
	To	Freedom's	adamantine	shrine	;
	And	many	a	Tartar	hord	forlorn,	aghast	!
	3e	snatch	d	from	under	fell	Oppression's	wing	j
	And	taught	amidst	the	dreary	waste
	The	all-cheering	hymns	of	Liberty	to	sing.
	Be	virtue	finds,	like	precious	ore,
	Diffus'd	thro'	every	baser	mould,
	ven	now	he	stands	on	Calvi's	rocky	shore,
	And	turns	the	dross	of	Corsica	to	gold.
	3e,	guardian	genius,	taught	my	youth
	Pomp's	tinsel	livery	to	despise	:
	Vly	lips	by	him	chastis'd	to	truth,
	^e'er	pay'd	that	homage	which	the	heart	denies.
	ANTISTROPHE.
	Those	sculptur'd	halls	my	feet	shall	never	tread,
	Where	varnish'd	Vice	and	Vanity	combin'd,
	To	dazzle	and	seduce,	their	banners	spread	;
	And	forge	vile	shackles	for	the	free-born	mind.
	iVhere	Insolence	his	wrinkl'd	front	uprears,
	And	all	the	flowers	of	spurious	fancy	blow	;
	And	Title	his	ill-woven	chaplet	wears,
	"ull	often	wreath'd	around	the	miscreant's	brow	:
	f	Alluding	to	the	known	story	of	William	Tell
	nd	his	associates,	the	fathers	and	founders	of	the
	onfederacy	of	the	Swiss	Cantons.


THE	DESERTED	VILLAGE.
	679
	And,	all	his	prospects	bright'ning	to	the	last,
	His	heav'n	comim-nivs	i-rv	the	world	In	1	past.
	Sweet	was	the	sound,	when	oft	at	ev'ning's	close,
	Up	yonder	hill	the	village	murmur	rosr	;
	There,	as	I	puss'd	with	careless	steps	and	slow,
	The	mingling	notes	came	soften'd	from	below	;
	The	swain	responsive	as	the	milk-maid	sung,
	The	sober	herd	that	low'd	to	meet	their	young	;
	The	noisy	geese	that	gabbled	o'er	the	pool,
	The	playful	children	just	let	loose	from	school	:
	'Die	watch-dog's	voice	that	bay'd	the	whisp'ring
	wind,
	And	the	loud	laugh	that	spoke	the	vacant	mind	;
	These	all	in	sweet	confusion	sought	the	shade,
	And	filFd	each	pause	the	nightingale	had	made.
	But	now	the	sounds	of	population	fail,
	No	cheerful	murmurs	fluctuate	in	the	gale,
	No	busy	steps	the	grass-grown	footway	tread,
	But	all	the	blooming	flush	of	life	is	fled	:
	All	but	yon	widow'd,	solitary	thing,
	That	feebly	bends	beside	the	plashy	spring	;
	She,	wretched	matron,	forc'd	in	age,	for	bread,
	To	strip	the	brook	with	mantling	cresses	spread,
	To	pick	her	wintry	faggot	from	the	thorn,
	To	seek	her	nightly	shed,	and	weep	till	morn	:
	She	only	left	of	all	the	harmless	train,
	The	sad	historian	of	the	pensive	plain.
	Near	yonder	copse,	where	once	the	garden	smil'd,
	And	still	where	many	a	garden	flow'r	grows	wild,
	There,	where	a	few	torn	shrubs	the	place	disclose,
	The	village	preacher's	modest	mansion	rose.
	A	man	he	was	to	all	the	country	dear,
	And	passing	rich	with	forty	pounds	a	year	;
	Remote	from	towns	he	ran	his	godly	race,
	Nor	e'er	had	chang'd,	nor	wish'd	to	change	his	place	;
	Unskilful	he	to	fawn,	or	seek	for	pow'r,
	By	doctrines	fashion'd	to	the	varying	hour	;
	Far	other	aims	his	heart	had	learn'd	to	prize,
	More	bent	to	raise	the	wretched	than	to	rise.
	His	house	was	known	to	all	the	vagrant	train,
	He	chid	their	wand'rings,	but	reliev'd	their	pain	;
	The	long-remember'd	beggar	was	his	guest,
	Whose	beard	descending	swept	his	aged	breast	;
	The	ruin'd	spendthrift,	now	no	longer	proud,
	Claim'd	kindred	there,	and	had	his	claims	allow'd	;
	The	broken	soldier,	kindly	bade	to	stay,
	Sat	by	his	fire,	and	talk'd	the	night	away	;
	Wept	o'er	his	wounds,	or,	tales	of	sorrow	done,
	Shoulder'd	his	crutch,	and	show'd	how	fields	were
	won.	[glow,
	Pleas'd	with	his	guests,	the	good	man	learn'd	to
	And	quite	forgot	their	vices	in	their	woe	;
	Careless	their	merits	or	their	faults	to	scan,
	His	pity	gave	ere	charity	began.
	Thus	to	relieve	the	wretched	was	his	pride,
	And	ev'n	his	failings	lean'd	to	virtue's	side	;
	But	in	his	duty	prompt,	at	ev'ry	call,
	He	watch'd	and	wept,	he	pray'd	and	felt,	for	all	:
	And,	as	a	bird	each	fond	endearment	tries
	To	tempt	its	new-fledg'd	offspring	to	the	skies,	'
	He	try'd	each	art,	reprov'd	each	dull	delay,
	Allur'd	to	brighter	worlds,	and	led	the	way.
	Beside	the	bed	where	parting	life	was	laid,
	And	sorrow,	guilt,	and	pain,	by	turns	dismay'd,
	The	rev'rend	champion	stood.	At	his	control,
	Despair	and	anguish	fled	the	struggling	soul	;
	Comfort	came	down	the	trembling	wretch	to	raise,
	And	his	last	fault'ring	accents	whisper'd	praise.
	At	church,	with	meek	and	unaffected	grace,
	His	looks	adorn'd	the	venerable	place	;
	Truth	from	his	lips	prevniFd	with	double	sway,
	And	fools,	who	came	to	scoff',	remain'd	to	pray.
	The	service	past,	around	the	pious	man,
	With	steady	zeal,	earli	lioiu-st	rustic	ran	:
	Ev'n	children	follow'd,	with	endearing	wile,
	And	pluck'd	his	gown,	to	share	the	good	man's
	smile;
	His	ready	smile	a	parent's	warmth	exprest,
	Their	welfare	pleas'd	him,	and	their	cares	distn-st	:
	To	them	his	heart,	his	love,	his	griefs,	were	giv'n,
	But	all	his	serious	thoughts	had	rest	in	Heav'n.
	As	some	tall	cliff,	that	lifts	its	aweful	form,
	Swells	from	the	vale,	and	midway	leaves	the	storm,
	Tho'	round	its	breast	the	rolling	clouds	are	spread,
	Eternal	sunshine	settles	on	its	head.
	Beside	yon	straggling	fence	that	skirts	the	way
	With	blossom'd	furze,	unprofitably	gay,
	There,	in	his	noisy	mansion,	skill'd	to	rule,
	The	village	master	taught	his	little	school	:
	A	man	severe	he	was,	and	stern	to	view,
	I	knew	him	well,	and	every	truant	knew	;
	Well	had	the	boding	tremblers	learn'd	to	trace
	The	day's	disasters	in	his	morning	face	;
	Full	well	they	laugh'd	with	counterfeited	glee
	At	all	his	jokes,	for	many	a	joke	had	he	;
	Full	well	the	busy	whisper,	circling	round,
	Convey	'd	the	dismal	tidings	when	he	frown'd;
	Yet	he	was	kind,	or	if	severe	in	aught,
	The	love	he	bore	to	learning	was	in	fault	;
	The	village	all	declar'd	how	much	he	knew	;
	'T	was	certain	he	could	write	and	cypher	too	;
	Lands	he	could	measure,	terms	and	tides	presage,
	And	ev'n	the	story	ran	tliat	he	could	gauge.
	In	arguing,	too,	the	parson	own'd	his	skill,
	For	ev'n	though	vanquish'd	he	could	argue	still	;
	While	words	of	learned	length,	and	thund'ring
	sound,
	Amaz'd	the	gazing	rustics	rang'd	around	;
	And	still	they	gaz'd,	and	still	the	wonder	grew
	That	one	small	head	should	carry	all	he	knew.
	But	past	is	all	his	fame.	The	very	spot,
	Where	many	a	time	he	triumph'd,	is	forgot
	Near	yonder	thorn,	that	lifts	its	head	on	high,
	Where	once	the	sign-post	caught	the	passing	eye,
	Low	lies	that	house	where	nut-brown	draughts
	inspir'd,
	Where	grey-beard	mirth	and	smiling	toil	retir'd,
	Where	village	statesmen	talk'd	with	looks	profound,
	And	news	much	older	than	their	ale	went	round	;
	Imagination	fondly	stoops	to	trace
	The	parlour	splendours	of	that	festive	place	;
	The	white-wash'd	wall,	the	nicely	sanded	floor,
	The	varnish'd	clock	that	click'd	behind	the	door	;
	The	chest	contriv'd	a	double	debt	to	pay,
	A	bed	by	night,	a	chest	of	drawers	by	day	;
	The	pictures	plac'd	for	ornament	and	use,
	The	twelve	good	rules,	the	royal	game	of	goose	;
	The	hearth,	except	when	winter	chill'd	the	day,
	With	aspen	boughs,	and	flowers,	and	fennel,
	While	broken	tea-cups,	wisely	kept	for	show,
	Ilang'd	o'er	the	chimney,	glisten'd	in	a	row.
	Vain	transitory	splendours	!	could	not	all
	Reprieve	the	tott'ring	mansion	from	its	fall	!
	Obscure	it	sinks,	nor	shall	it	more	impart
	An	hour's	importance	to	the	poor	man's	heart	;
	Thither	no	more	the	peasant	shall	repair
	To	sweet	oblivion	of	his	daily	care	;
	No	more	the	farmer's	news,	the	barber's	tale,
	No	more	the	woodman's	ballad	shall	prevail	;
	Xx	4


4	THE	INDUSTRIAL	REVOLUTION
	and	its	end	is	knowledge.	But	the	Political	Economy	of
	the	press	and	the	platform	is	a	practical	science,	that	is,	a
	body	of	rules	and	maxims	to	guide	conduct.	Journalists
	and	members	of	Parliament	confound	the	laws	of	the	pure
	science	with	the	maxims	of	the	practical	science.	It	was
	thus	that	Mr.	Gladstone	in	the	Land	Act	controversy	of
	1881	was	constantly	accused	of	violating	the	laws	of
	Political	Economy.	It	was	impossible	for	Mr.	Gladstone	to
	do	any	such	thing.	The	laws	of	Political	Economy	can	no
	more	be	violated	than	those	of	physical	science.	What	the
	journalists	meant	was	that	he	had	depai	ted	from	a	great
	economic	precept	that	which	recommends	freedom	of
	contract.
	The	Historical	Method	pursues	a	different	line	of	investi-
	gation.	It	examines	the	actual	causes	of	economic	develop-
	ment	and	considers	the	influence	of	institutions,	such	as	the
	mediaeval	guilds,	our	present	land-laws,	or	the	political	con-
	stitution	of	any	given	country,	in	determining	the	distribu-
	tion	of	wealth.	Without	the	aid	of	the	Historical	Method
	it	would	be	impossible,	for	instance,	to	understand	why	one-
	half	of	the	land	in	the	United	Kingdom	is	owned	by	2512
	persons.	1
	And	not	only	does	it	investigate	the	stages	of	economic
	development	in	a	given	country,	but	it	compares	them	with
	those	which	have	obtained	in	other	countries	and	times,	and
	seeks	by	such	comparison	to	discover	laws	of	universal
	application.	Take,	as	an	instance	of	the	discoveries	of	this
	Comparative	Political	Economy,	the	tendency	which	Sir	H.
	Maine	and	M.	de	Laveleye	have	pointed	out	to	pass	from
	collective	to	individual	ownership	of	land.	This	is	a	law
	which	is	true	of	nearly	all	civilised	countries.	We	must	be
	careful,	however,	not	to	generalise	too	hastily	in	these
	matters.	A	clever	pamphlet	lately	published	in	Dublin
	appeals	to	another	generalisation	of	Sir	H.	Maine	'	Maine's
	Law/	as	it	is	denominated	in	condemnation	of	recent	legis-
	1	The	owners	of	properties	over	3000	acres,	and	yielding	a	rental	of	at
	least	3000	are	2512	;	they	own	in
	England	and	Wales,	14,287,373	acres	out	of	34,344,226
	Scotland,	.	.	14,118,164	18,986,694
	Ireland,	.	.	9,120,689	20,316,129
	Bateman's	Great	Landmmers.


234
	cognising	his	tenant's	son,	informed	him	he	must	be	a
	lunatic	to	have	attempted	such	a	thing.	"Begorra,
	my	lord,	if	there	were	no	lunatics	in	the	land	there'd
	be	mighty	little	fox-hunting."	His	enthusiam	was	con-
	tagious,	the	county	backed	him	splendidly,	and	gorse
	coverts	sprung	up,	as	if	by	magic,	over	the	length	and
	breadth	of	the	county.
	In	the	days	I	write	of,	hunting	a	country	was	far	less
	expensive	than	at	present,	for	such	claims	as	right	of
	way	and	compensation	for	scarce	apparent	damage	done
	had	not	come	into	vogue,	but	the	very	magnitude	of
	Heath's	mileage	involved	a	very	long	purse,	and	Mr.
	Ileynell's	was	a	very	short	one.	However,	enthusiasm
	carried	him	along,	and	though	he	could	hardly	ever
	compass	the	purchase	of	sound	weight	carriers,	screws
	well	chosen	enabled	him	to	keep	near	his	pack,	and	as
	for	falls	though	over	sixteen	stone	weight	he	went	on
	never	minding	them.	Like	the	Jovial	Jorrocks,	he
	lectured	on	"	the	noble	science	"	in	canary	tights,	and
	the	county	colours	of	red	and	pale	blue,	and	threw
	everything,	as	Mr.	Mantalini	put	it,	to	the	"	demnition
	bow	wows	"	in	favour	of	the	sport	of	kings	and	vice-
	kings.	Nor	was	the	summer	his	own,	for	a	man	of	his
	ideas	hail	to	keep	travelling	about	on	survey,	so	to
	speak,	day	after	day,	consolidating	and	strengthening
	his	empire	;	and	it	was	said	that	at	one	time	he	con-
	templated	entering	Parliament	to	aid	the	hunting
	interests	of	the	kingdom,	and	to	endeavour	to	get	some
	enactment	passed	in	favour	of	causing	cattle	to	be
	wintered	in	sheds,	after	the	English	pattern,	rather	than
	in	the	open	pastures	to	the	detriment	and	checking	of


76	NAVIGATION	INTERESTS.
	1	cask	for	flour.
	3	vinegar	casks,	20	gallons	each.
	2	lime	casks,	20	gallons	each.
	1	molasses	cask,	15	gallons.
	All	casks	and	12	buckets	to	have	galvanized	iron	hoops	;	also,	12	buckets	and	2	har
	ness	casks	which	are	to	have	brass	hoops,	and	to	be	of	teak.
	CABIN	STORES.
	1	iron	tea-kettle.
	1	copper	tea-kettle.
	1	britannia	metal	tea-pot.
	1	britannia	metal	coffee-pot.
	12	table-spoons,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	12	tea-spoons,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	1	dozen	table	knives	and	forks,	with	white	ivory	handles.
	1	dozen	table	forks,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	1	dozen	dessert	knives	and	forks,	with	white	ivory	handles.
	1	dozen	forks,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	1	basket	for	electro-plates.
	1	metal	tureen	and	ladle.
	1	electro-plate	tureen	and	ladle,	No.	1.
	12	electro-plate	dessert	spoons,	No.	1.
	1	electro-plate	inustard-pot	spoon,	No.	1.
	2	electro-plate	salt	spoons,	No.	1.
	6	common	knives	and	forks,	with	6	table	and	6	tea-spoons,	britannia	metal.
	1	carving	knife	and	fork.
	1	steel,	ivory	handle.
	1	set	castors,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	4	dish	covers,	E.	P.	No.	1.
	1	blackjack.
	4	brass	candlesticks.
	4	pair	snuffers	and	tray.
	4	dozen	plates,	assorted.
	1	dozen	dishes.
	6	vegetable	dishes.
	1	dozen	mugs.
	2	butter	boats.
	2	butter	pots.
	1	dozen	egg-cups.
	2	glass	salts.
	2	sugar	basins,	(1	glass.)
	Crockeryware	to	have	ship	s	name	on.
	\	dozen	basins.	^
	1	wash-hand	basin	and	jug	to	be	fitted	up	in	each	state-room.
	2	water	jugs	for	cabin.
	2	dozen	cups	and	saucers.
	4	decanters.
	1	dozen	tumblers.
	1	dozen	wine	glasses.
	1	dozen	champagne	glasses.
	2	brass	cocks.
	4	chamber	pots.
	1	pair	flour	scales	and	weights.
	1	pair	steel-yards.
	1	set	weights	and	scales	complete.
	2	coffee	mills.
	1	candle	box.
	1	spice	box.
	1	flour	dredger.
	1	set	pewter	measures,	Bay	6
	1	plate	basket.
	corkscrew.
	dust	pan.
	hand	bell.
	fancy	bread	baskets.
	cabin	lamp,	to	be	approved.
	brass	bar,	to	be	fitted	in	skylight,	with	swing	tray	attached
	berth	lamp	to	each	state-room	and	pantry.
	Damask	curtains	in	each	room.
	1	cabin	stove,	with	copper	funnel	complete.


258	A	RED	WALLFLOWER.
	"	Do	you	think	Pitt	will	end	by	being	an	Eng
	lishman,	papa	?	"
	"	I	can	t	tell,	my	dear.	That	would	depend	on
	circumstances,	probably.	I	should	think	it	very
	likely,	and	very	natural."
	"	But	he	is	an	American."
	"	Half."
	The	colonel	took	up	his	book	again.
	"	Papa,"	said	Esther	eagerly.,	"	do	you	think	Pitt
	will	come	to	see	us	here?	"
	"Come	to	see	us?	If	anything	brings	him	to
	New	York,	I	have	no	doubt	he	will	look	us	up."
	"	You	do	not	think	he	would	come	all	the	way
	on	purpose?	Papa,	he	would	be	very	much
	changed	if	he	did	not."
	"Impossible	to	say,	my	dear.	He	is	very	likely
	to	have	changed."	And	the	colonel	went	back	to
	his	reading.
	Papa	does	not	care	about	it,	thought	Esther.
	can	Pitt	be	so	much	changed	as	that	?


184
	The	Wealth	of	Nations
	frequently	been	in	Asia.	The	judgment	of	Thucydides,	that
	both	Europe	and	Asia	could	not	resist	the	Scythians	united,	has
	been	verified	by	the	experience	of	all	ages.	The	inhabitants	of
	the	extensive	but	defenceless	plains	of	Scythia	or	Tartary	have
	been	frequently	united	under	the	dominion	of	the	chief	of	some
	conquering	horde	or	clan,	and	the	havoc	and	devastation	of
	Asia	have	always	signalised	their	union.	The	inhabitants	of
	the	inhospitable	deserts	of	Arabia,	the	other	great	nation	of
	shepherds,	have	never	been	united	but	once;	under	Mahomet
	and	his	immediate	successors.	Their	union,	which	was	more	the
	effect	of	religious	enthusiasm	than	of	conquest,	was	signalised	in
	the	same	manner.	If	the	hunting	nations	of	America	should
	ever	become	shepherds,	their	neighbourhood	would	be	much
	more	dangerous	to	the	European	colonies	than	it	is	at	present.
	In	a	yet	more	advanced	state	of	society,	among	those	nations
	of	husbandmen	who	have	little	foreign	commerce,	and	no	other
	manufactures	but	those	coarse	and	household	ones	which	almost
	every	private	family	prepares	for	its	own	use,	every	man,	in	the
	same	manner,	either	is	a	warrior	or	easily	becomes	such.	They
	who	live	by	agriculture	generally	pass	the	whole	day	in	the	open
	air,	exposed	to	all	the	inclemencies	of	the	seasons.	The	hardiness
	of	their	ordinary	life	prepares	them	for	the	fatigues	of	war,	to
	some	of	which	their	necessary	occupations	bear	a	great	analogy.
	The	necessary	occupation	of	a	ditcher	prepares	him	to	work	in
	the	trenches,	and	to	fortify	a	camp	as	well	as	to	enclose	a	field.
	The	ordinary	pastimes	of	such	husbandmen	are	the	same	as
	those	of	shepherds,	and	are	in	the	same	manner	the	images	of
	war.	But	as	husbandmen	have	less	leisure	than	shepherds,
	they	are	not	so	frequently	employed	in	those	pastimes.	They
	are	soldiers,	but	soldiers	not	quite	so	much	masters	of	their
	exercise.	Such	as	they	are,however,it	seldom	costs	the	sovereign
	or	commonwealth	any	expense	to	prepare	them	for	the	field.
	Agriculture,	even	in	its	rudest	and	lowest	state,	supposes	a
	settlement:	some	sort	of	fixed	habitation	which	cannot	be
	abandoned	without	great	loss.	When	a	nation	of	mere	husband
	men,	therefore,	goes	to	war,	the	whole	people	cannot	take	the
	field	together.	The	old	men,	the	women	and	children,	at	least,
	must	remain	at	home	to	take	care	of	the	habitation.	All	the	men
	of	the	military	age,	however,	may	take	the	field,	and,	in	small
	nations	of	this	kind,	have	frequently	done	so.	In	every	nation
	the	men	of	the	military	age	are	supposed	to	amount	to	about	a
	fourth	or	a	fifth	part	of	the	whole	body	of	the	people.	If	the
	campaign,	too,	should	begin	after	seed-time,	and	end	before


BROTHER	COPAS
	Lastly,	in	certain	of	the	rooms	smoking	is	permitted;
	some	bygone	trustee	may	earth	lie	lightly	on	him!
	having	discovered	and	taught	that	of	all	things	a
	book	is	about	the	most	difficult	to	burn.	You	may
	smoke	in	Paradise,	for	instance.	By	this	name,	for
	what	reason	I	cannot	tell,	is	known	the	room	con-
	taining	the	Greek	and	Latin	classics.
	Brother	Copas,	entering	Paradise	with	a	volume
	under	his	arm,	found	Mr.	Simeon	seated	there	alone
	with	a	manuscript	and	a	Greek	lexicon	before	him,
	and	gave	him	good	evening.
	"Good	evening,	Brother	Copas!	.	.	.	You	have
	been	a	stranger	to	us	for	some	weeks,	unless	I
	mistake?"
	"You	are	right.	These	have	been	stirring	times
	in	politics,	and	for	the	last	five	or	six	weeks	I	have
	been	helping	to	save	my	country,	at	the	Liberal
	Club."
	Mr.	Simeon	a	devoted	Conservative	came	as
	near	to	frowning	as	his	gentle	nature	would	permit.
	"You	disapprove,	of	course,"	continued	Brother
	Copas	easily.	"Well,	so	in	a	sense	do	I.	We
	beat	you	at	the	polls;	not	in	Merchester	we	shall
	never	carry	Merchester	though	even	in	Merchester
	we	put	up	fight	enough	to	rattle	you	into	a	blue
	funk.	But	God	help	the	pair	of	us,	Mr.	Simeon,
	if	our	principles	are	to	be	judged	by	the	uses	other
	men	make	of	'em!	I	have	had	enough	of	my	fellow-
	68


CONSIDERATION	XV.	245
	promised	to	honour	those	who	honour	Him	;	and
	that	He	will	not	allow	them	to	be	maltreated	by	men
	of	the	world,	but	that,	on	the	contrary,	He	will	take
	great	care	of	them,	both	in	assistance	and	defence.
	Dost	thou	honour	God	?	then	thou	mayest	be
	assured	and	certain	that	God	honours	thee,	and	that
	He	will	right	early	deliver	thee	from	the	grief	and
	trouble	in	which	thou	art	involved	;	so	that	the	im
	pious,	who	wish	thee	evil,	shall	have	no	cause	to	re
	joice	in	thy	calamity.	By	this	suggestion,	all	God	s
	promises	on	this	head,	given	in	Holy	Scripture,	recur
	to	the	Christian	s	mind	;	and	when	the	saint	under
	trial	is	prepared	to	receive	this	truth,	and	remains
	steadfast	and	firm	in	this	hope,	it	may	persuade	him
	to	bring	his	mind	to	acquiesce	in	God	s	design	in
	that	trial.	And	in	such	case,	acquiescence	in	the
	Divine	Will	is	pious	and	holy,	because	it	is	based	on
	a	confidence	that	is	in	itself	pious	and	holy.
	Human	wisdom	opposes	itself	to	this,	and	says,
	Having	seen	that	God	permits	His	people	to	be	per
	secuted,	afflicted,	and	maltreated,	on	what	canst
	thou,	as	a	Christian,	base	thy	confidence	that	He	will
	deliver	thee	from	this	affliction	and	travail	?	To
	this	the	Christian	spirit	replies,	It	is	true	that	God
	permits	all	this	to	happen	to	His	people;	but	He
	does	so	when	calculated	to	promote	the	cause	of	the
	Gospel,	the	manifestation	of	His	glory,	or	the	glori
	fication	of	His	name,	but	not	to	gratify	the	malignity
	and	base	desires	of	men	of	the	world.	Truly	God
	does	consent	that	His	saints	be	maltreated,	when
	they	are	maltreated	because	they	are	saints,	and	from
	this	results	all	that	we	have	said	;	but	He	does	not
	suffer	them	to	be	so,-	when	maltreated	as	men,	from
	worldly	motives,	because	He	has	engaged	His	word
	to	do	just	the	reverse.	David	exults	in	that	he,