The Maker justly claims that world he made ; .
In this the right of providence is laid :
Its facred majesty through all depends
On using second means to work his.ends.
'Tis thus, withdrawn in state from human eye,''
The Pow'r exerts his attributes on high ;
Your actions uses, nor controuls your will;
And bids the doubting fons of men be still..

What strange events can itrike with more surprise, ,
Than those which lately ftruck thy wond'ring eyes?
Yet, taught by these, confess th' Almighty just;
And, where you can't unriddle, learn to trust.

The great, vain man, who far'd on costly food;
Whose life was too luxurious to be good ;
Who made his ivory stands with goblets shine ;
And forced his guelts to morning draughts of wine ; ;
Has, with the cup, the graceless custom loft;.
And still he welcomes, but with less of cost.

The mean suspicious wretch, whose bolted door:
Ne’er mov'd in duy to the wand'ring poor ;
With him I left.the cup, to teach his mind,
That heav'n can bless, if mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting. worth, he views the bowl ; -
And feels compassion touch his grateful soul.
Thus artists melt the fullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head : :
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow ;
And, loose from dross, the silver runs below.

Long liad our pious friend in virtue trode,
Büt, now, the child half-wean'd his heart from God;
(Child of his age )--for him he liv'd in pain,
And measur'd back his steps to earth again,
To wliat exceffes had his dotage run !
Bat God, to save the father, took the son..
To all, but thee, in fits he feeni'd to go;
And 'twas my miniftry to deal the blow.
The
poor

fond parent, humbled in the dust, . Now owns, in tears, the punishment was just.”.

But how had all his fortune felt a wreck,
Had that false servant fped in fafety back!
This night bis treasur'd heaps he meant to steal : ;
And what a fund of charity wou'd fail!
83:

Thus

Thus Heav'n instructs thy mind. This trial o'er,
Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more.

On sounding pinions liere the youth withdrew :.
The fage stood wond'ring as the seraph flew.
Thus look!d Elifha, when, to mount on high,
His master took the chariot of the sky :
The fiery pomp, ascending, left the view ;
The prophet gaz’d, and wish'd to follow too.

The bending hermit here a pray’r begun-
“ Lord ! as in heav'n, on earth thy will be done."-
Then, gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pass’d a life of piety and peace.

IX. On the Death of Mrs Mafon.
TAKE, holy earth! all that my soul holds dear :-

Take that best gift, which Heav'n so lately gave. To Bristol's fout I bore, with trembling care,

Her faded form. She bow'd to taste the wave And died. Does youth, does beauty, read the line ?

Does sympathetic fear their brealt alarm ?: Speak, dead Maria !: breathe a strain divine :

Ey'n from the grave, thou shalt have pow'r to charma Eid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee ;

Bid' them, in duty's sphere, as meekly move: And, if as fair, from vanity as free,

As firm in friendship, and as fond in love.. Tell them, though 'tis an awful thing to die.!

('Twas ev'n to thee) yet, the dread path once trodė, Heav'n lifts its everlasting portals high, And bids “ the pure in heart behold their God.”***

X. Extra&t from the Temple of Fame. A ROUND these wonders as I cast a Jook,

The trumpet founded, and the temple shook; And all the nations, summon’d at the call, , From different quarters, fill the spacious hall. Of various tongues the ringled sounds were heard ;; In various garbs promiscuous throngs appear'd : Millions of suppliant crowds the shrine attend, And all degrees before the goddess bend;

The

The poor, the rich, the valiant, and the fage,
And boasting youth, and narrative old age..

First at the shrine the learned world appear, And, to the goddess, thus prefer their pray'r: " Long have we fought t'instruct and please mankind,., “ With faudies pale, with midnight vigils blind : ! But, thank'd by few, rewarded yet by none, “ We here appeal to thy superiour throne ji « On wit and learning the just prize bestow, « Eor fame is all we must expect below.”The goddess heard, and bade the muses raise The golden trumpet of eternal praise. From pole to pole the winds diffuse the sound, And fill the circuit of the world around : Not all at once, as thunder breaks the cloud ;. The notes, at first, were rather sweet than loud: By just degrees, they every moment rise ;Spread round the earth, and gain upon the Asies.

Next these, the good and just, an awful train, Thus, on their knees, address the sacred fane : 6 Since living virtue is with envy cursid, “ And the best men are treated like the worst, “ Do thou, just goddess ! call our merits forth, “ And give each deed th' exact intrinsic worth.' “ Not with bare justice shall your acts be crown'd, “ (Said Fame) but high above desert renown'd: « Let fuller notes th' applauding world amaze, “ And the loud clarion labour in your praise.?.

A troop came next, who crowns and armour wore , And proud defiance in their looks they bore. “ For thee (they cried) amidst alarms and strife, “ We fail'd-in tempefts down the stream of life ; « For thee whole nations fill'd with fire and blood, “ And swam to empire through the purple flood, “ Those ills we dar'd, thy inspiration own ; " What virtue seem'd, was done for thee alone,” “ Ambitious fools! (the queen reply'd, and frown'd) “ Be all your deeds in 'dark oblivion drown'd : « There sleep forgot, with mighty tyrants gone ; « Your statues moulder'd, and your names un

known.”

A sudden cloud straight fnarch'd them from my fight, And each majestic phantom funk in night,

Then came the smallett tribe 1 yet had seen : Plain was their dress, and modest was their mien« Great idol of mankind ! we neither claim " The praise of merit, nor aspire te fame ; “ But, safe in deserts from th' applause of hen, " Would die unheard-of, as we liv'd unseen. 6. 'Tis all we beg thee, to conceal from fight « Those acts of goodness which themselves requite.. « O ! let us, ftill, the secret joy partake, 6.- To follow virtue, ev'n for virtue's fake."** “ And live there men who slight immortal fame? “ Who, then, with incense shall adore our name? “ But, mortals, know, 'tis still our greatest pride 66 To blaze those virtues which the good would hide, «« Rise, muses, rise ! add all your tuneful breath: “ These must not sleep in darkness, and in death.' She said. In air the trembling music floats, And on the winds triumphant Iwell the notes ;So soft, though high ; fo loud, and yet so clear ; Ev’n list’ning angels lean from heav'n to bear : To farthest shores th' ambrosial spirit flies, Sweet to the world, and grateful to the skies.

XI. The Country Clergyman. . NEAR yonder copse, where, once the garden smil's,,

And, ftill, where many a garden flow'r grows wild ; ; There, where a few torn flirubs the place disclose, . The village preacher's modeft manfion role.

A man he was, to all the country dear,
And paffing rich with forty pounds a year.
Remote from towns, he ran his godly race ;
Nor e’er had ehang’d, nor with'd to change his place : :
Unpractis'd he, to fawn or seek for power,
By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour :
Far other aims his heart had learu'd to prize,
More skill'd 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 gueft,
Whose beard descending twept his aged breast

Thes

The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud,
Claim'd kindred there, and had his

claims allow'd :
The broken soldier, kindly bid 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 fhow'd how fields were won.
Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow,
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 reverend champion stood. At his control,
Despair and anguish fled the struggling foul :
Comfort came down, the trembling wretch to raise ;
And his last falt’ring accents whisper'd praise.

At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double fway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray. The service past, around the pious man, With ready zeal, each honest rustic ran ; Even children follow'd, with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile : His ready fmile a parent's warmth express’d; Their welfare pleas'd him, and their cares distress'd: 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 awful form, Swells from the vale, and mid-way leaves the storm, Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, Eternal sunshine settles on its head.