It comes: It fil's my labouring breast, I feel my beating heart oppreft. Oh! hear that lonely widow's wail! See her dim eye! her afpect pale! To heavea fe turns in deep deipair, Her infants wonder at her prayer, And, mingling tears they know not why, Lift up their little hands, and cry. O God! their moving forrows fee! Support them, fweet Humanity!

9.

Life, fill'd with grief's diftrefsful train, For ever afks tile tear humane. Beboid in von unconcious grove The victims of Il-fated love! Heard you that agonizing three? Sure this is not romantic woe! The golden day of joy is o'er; And now they part-to meet no more. Aifft them, hearts from anguith free! Ant them, fweet Humanity!

10.

Parent of virtue, if thine ear

Attend not now to Sorrow's cry; If now the pity-Areaming tear

Should haply on thy cheek be dry, Indige my votive strain, O fweet Humanity!

The fightless herd fequacious, who puriue
Dull Folly's path, and does as others do,
Who look with purblind prejudice and fcorn,
On diferent fects, in different nations born,
Let us, my Craufurd, with compafhion view,
Pity their pride, but fhun their error too.
From Belvidere's fair groves, and mountains
green,

Which Nature rais'd, rejoicing to be seen,
Let us, while raptur'd on her works we gaze,
And the heart riots on luxurious praise,
Th`expanded thought,the boundles with retain,
And let not Nature moralize in vain.

§32
The ENLARGEMENT of the MIND.
Langhorne.
EPISTLE I. To General Craufurd. Written at
Belvidere 1756.

WHERE is the man, who, prodigal of mind,
In one wile with embraces human kind?
All pride of fects, all party zeal above,
Whole Priet is Reafon, and whofe God is Love;
Fair Nature's friend, a foe to fraud and art-
Where is the man, fo welcome to my heart?

O facred Guide! preceptrefs more fublime Than fages boafling o'er the wrecks of time! See on each page her beauteous volume bear The golden characters of good and fair. All human knowledge (bluth, collegiate pride!) Flows from her works, to none that reads denied.

Shall the dull inmate of pedantic walls, On whofe old walk the funbeam feldom falls, Who knows of nature, and of man, no more Than fills fome page of antiquated loreShall he, in words and terms profoundly wife, The better knowledge of the world defpife, Think Wifdom centered in a falje degree, And fcorn the fcholar of Humanity?

Something of men thefe fapient drones may Of men that liv'd two thousand years ago: [know, Such human monfters if the world e'er knew, As ancient verfe, and ancient story drew!

If to one object, fyftem, fcene confin'd, The fure effect is narrowness of mind.

'Twas thus St. Robert, in his lonely wood, Forfook each focial duty-to be good. Thus Hobbes on one dear fyftem fix'd his eyes, And prov'd his nature wretched--to be wife. Each zealot thus, elate with ghoftly pride, Adores his God, and hates the world befide. Though form'd with powers to grasp this various ball,

Gods! to what meannefs may the fpirit fall! Powers that should spread in reafon's orient ray, How are they darken'd, and debarr'd the day i

When late, where Tajo rolls his ancient tide, Reflecting clear the mountain's purple fide, Thy genius, Craufurd, Britain's legions led, And fear's chill cloud forfook each bright'ning head,

By nature brave, and generous as thou art,
Say, did not human follies vex thy heart?
Glow'd not thy breaft indignant, when you faw
The dome of murder confecrate by law?
Where fiends, commiffion'd with the legal rod,
In pure devotion, burn the works of God.

O change me, powers of Nature, if ye can, Transform me, make me any thing but man. Yet why! This heart all human kind forgives, While Gillman loves me, and while Craufurd Is nature, all benevolent, to blame, [lives. That half her offspring are their mother's fhame? Did the ordain o'er this fair fcene of things The cruelty of Priefts, or pride of Kings?

с

Though

fame,

Is Nature, all benevolent, to blame?

"Yet furely once, my friend, the feem'd to err; "For W--ch--t was"-He was not made by her. Sure, form'd of clay that nature held in fcorn, By fiends constructed, and in darkness born, Rofe the low wretch, who, defpicably vile, Would fell his Country for a Courtier's fmile; Would give up all to truth and freedom dear, To dine with *** or fome ideot peer, Whofe mean malevolence, in dark difguife The man that never injur'd him belies, Whofe actions bad and good two motives guide, The Serpent's malice, and the Coxcomb's pride. "Is there a wretch fo mean, fo bafe, fo low?" I know there is-afk W--ch--t if he know.

O that the world were emptied of its flaves! That all the fools were gone, and all the knaves! Then might we, Craufurd, with delight embrace

In boundless love the reft of human race.
But let not knaves mifanthropy create,
Nor feed the gall of univerfal hate.
Wherever Genius, Truth, and Virtue dwell,
Polish'd in courts, or fimple in a cell,
All views of country, fects, and creeds apart,
Thefe, thefe I love, and hold them to my heart.
Vain of our beauteous ifle, and juftly vain,
For freedom here, and health, and plenty reign,
We different lots contemptuously compare,
And boaft, like children, of a fav'rite's fhare.
Yet though each vale a deeper verdure yields
Than Arno's banks, or Andalufia's fields,
Though many a tree-crown'd mountain teems
with ore,

Though flocks innumerous whiten every thore,
Why should we, thus with nature's wealth elate,
Behold her different families with hate?
Look on her works-on every page you'll find
Infcrib'd the doctrine of the focial mind.

See countlets worlds of infect being thare
Th' unenvied regions of the liberal air!
In the fame grove what mufic void of ftrife!
Heirs of one itream, what tribes of fcaly life!
See Earth, and Air, and Fire, and Flood combine,
Of general good to aid the great defign!

Where Ancon drags o'er Lincoln's lurid plain, Like a flow fnake, his dirty-winding train, Where fogs eternal blot the face of day, And the loft bittern moans his gloomy way; As well we might, for unpropitious fkies, The blamclefs native with his clime defpife, As him who ftill the poorer lot partakes Of Bilcay's mountains, or Batavia's lakes. Yet look once more on Nature's various plan! Behold and love her nobleít creature Man! She, never partial, on each various zone Beftow'd fome portion to the rest unknown, By mutual interest meaning thence to bind In one vast chain the commerce of mankind. Behold, ye vain difturhers of an hour! Ye Dupes of Faction! and ye Tools of Power!

Behold, and lofe your littleness of rage!
Throw Envy, Folly, Prejudice behind!
And yield to Truth the empire of the mind.
Immortal Truth! O from thy radiant thrine,
Where Light created first eflay'd to shine;
Where cluft'ring Stars eternal beams display,
And Gems ethereal drink the golden day;
To chafe this moral, clear this fenfual night,
O fhed one ray of thy celeftial light!
Teach us, while wandering through this vale
below

We know but little, that we little know.
One beam to mole-ey'd Prejudice convey,
Let Pride perceive one mortifying ray;
Thy glafs to Fools, to Infidels apply,
And all the dimnefs of the mental eye.

Plac'd ou this fhore of Time's far-stretching bourn,

With leave to look at Nature and return;
While wave on wave impels the human tide,
And ages fink, forgotten as they glide;
Can life's fhort duties better be discharg'd,
Than when we leave it with a mind enlarg'd?

Judg'd not the old Philofopher aright,
When thus he preach'd, his pupils in his fight
"It matters not, my friends, how low or high,
Your little walk of tranfient life may lie;
Soon will the reign of Hope and Fear be o'er,
And warring paflions militate no more:
And truft me, he who, having once survey'd
The good and fair which Nature's wifdom made
The fooneft to his former state retires,
And feels the peace of fatisfied defires,
(Let others deem more wifely if they can)
I look on him to be the happiest man."

So thought the facred Sage, in whom I truf Because I feel his fentiments are juít. 'Twas not in Luftrums of long counted years That fwell'd th'alternate reign of hopes and fear Not in the fplendid fcenes of pain and strife, That Wisdom plac'd the dignity of life; To ftudy Nature was the task design'd, And learn from her th' enlargement of the min Learn from her works whatever Truth admir And fleep in Death with fatisfied defires.

$33. EPISTLE II.

To William Langborne, M. A. 1760. LIGHT heard his voice, and, eager to obey From all her orient fountains burst away.

At Nature's birth, O! had the power divin Commanded thus the moral fun to fhine, Beam'd on the mind all reafon's influence brig And the full day of intellectual light, Then the free foul,on Truth'strong pinionbor Had never languith'd in this fhade forlorn.

Yet thus imperfect form'd,thus blind and va Doom'd by long toil a glimpfe of truth to gai Beyond its fphere fhall human wildom go, And boldly cenfure what it cannot know? 'Tis ours to cherish what Heav'n deign'd to g And thankful for the gift of being live. Progref

§ 35. Meshab, a Sacred Eclogue. POPE. YE Nymphs of Solyma! begin the fong; To heavenly themes fublimer trains belong. The molly fountains and the fylvan fhades, The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids, Delight no more.-0 Thou my voice infpire, Who touch'd Ifaiah's hallowed lips with fire!

Rapt into future times, the bard begun : A Virgin fhall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! From Jetle's root behold a branch arise, Whofe facred flow'r with fragrance fills thefkies; The ethereal fpirit o'er its leaves fhall move; And on its top defcends the mystic Dove. Ye heav'ns! from high the dewy nectar pour, And in soft silence thed the kindly thow'r! The fick and weak the healing plant thall aid, From forms a theiter, and from heat a fhade. All crimes fhall cease, and antient fraud fhall fail, Returning Justice lift aloft her fcale, Peace o'er the world her olive wand extend, And white rob'd Innocencefrom heav'n defcend. Swift fy the years, and rife th`expected morn! Oh fpring to light aufpicious Babe, be born! See Nature hates her earliett wreaths to bring, With all the incenfe of the breathing fpring: See lofty Lebanon his head advance, See nodding forefts on the mountains dance; See ipicy clouds from lowly Saron rite, And Carmel's flow'ry top perfumes the fkies! Hark! a glad voice the lonely defert cheers; Prepare the way! a God, a God appears! A God, a God! the vocal hilis reply: The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity. Lo, earth receives him from the bending kies! Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye vallies, rife! With heads declin'd, ye cedars, homage pay; Be fimooth, ye rocks; ye rapid floods, give way! The Saviour comes by antient bards foretold, Hear him, ye deaf and, all ye blind behold! He from thick films thall purge the visual ray, And on the fightlefs eye-ball pour the day: "Tis he th'obtructed paths of found fhall clear, And bid new mufic charm th' unfolding ear; The dumb thail fing, the lame his crutch forego, And lea exuking like the bounding roe. No figh, no murmur, the wide would thall hear: From ev'ry face he wipes off ev'ry tear. In adamantine chains thall death be bound, And hell's grim tyrant feel th' eternal wound. As the good thepherd tends his fleecy care, Seeks fresheft pafture, and th pureft air, Explores the loft, the ward'ring fheep directs, By by o'erfees them, and by night protects; The tender lambs he raises in his arms, Feeds from his hand, and in his bofom warms; Thull mankind his guardian care engage, The prais'd Father of the future age. No more ball nation against nation rite, Nor andet warriors meet with hateful eyes, Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o'er, The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more; But useless lances into fcythes fhall bend, And the broad faulchion in a plough-fhare end.

Then palaces fhall rife: the joyful fon
Shall finith what his thort-liv'd fire begun:
Their vines a fhadow to their race thall vield,
And the fame hand that tow'd,fhall reap the field.
The fwain in barren defarts, with farprite,
Sees lilies fpring, and fudden verdur- rif»;
And ftarts, amidst the thirty wikls to hear
New falls of water murmuring in his ear.
On rifted rocks the dragon's late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulruth nods,
Waite fandy valleys, once perplex'd with thorn,
The fpiry fir and thapely box adorn:

To leaflets thrub, the flow'ring palms fucceed
And od rous myrtle to the noitomic weed.[mead,
The lambs with wolves thall graze the verdant
And boys in flow'ry bands the tiger lead,
The steer and lion at one crib fhaal meet,
And harmless ferpents lick the pilgrim's feet.
The fmiling infant in his hand fhall take
The crefted bafiifk and fpeckled fake,
Pleas'd the green luture of their scales farver,
And withthei-forky tonguethall innocentiypy
Rife, crown'd with light, imperial Solem, iile !
Exalt thy tow'ry head, and lift thy eyes;
See a long race thy fpacious courts adorn;
See future fons and daughter, yet unborn,
In crowding ranks on ev'ry i de arife,
Demanding life, impatient for the ikies!
See barb'rous nations at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy 1. ht, and in thy temple bend;
See thybrightalt throng'dwithproftrateking
And heap'd with producis of Sabean fprin ̧s!
For thee Idume's fpicy forefts blow,
And feeds of gold in Oplir's mountains glow.
See heav'n its parkling portals wide difplay,
And break upon thee in a flood of day."
No more the rifing Sun fhall gild the morn,
Nor ev'ning Cynthia fill her filver horn,
But loft, diffolv'd in thy fuperior rays,
One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze,
O'erflow thy courts: the Light himfeif thall fhine
Reveal'd, and God's eternal day be thine!
The feas fhall wafte, the skies in smoke decay.
Rocks fall to duft, and mountains melt away;
But fix'd his word, his faving pow'r remains:
Thy realm for ever lafts, thy own Messiah reignst

36. The Prize of Virtue. Pope.

WHAT nothing earthly gives or can deftrcy, The foul's calm funfhine, and the heart-felt joy,

Is Virtue's prize: a better would you fix?
Then give Humility a coach-and-fix?
Juftice a conqu'ror's fword, or Truth a gown,
Or Public Spirit its great cure, a crown.
Weak, foolith Man! will Heav'n reward us there
With the fame trash mad mortals with for here?
The boy and man an individual makes,
Yet figh'ft thon now for apples and for cakes?
Go, like the Indian, in another life
Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife!
As well as dream fuch trifles are affign'd,
As toys and empires for a godlike mine;
C 3

Rovrede,