Yet still he took a keen inquiring view
Of all that crowds neglect, desire, pursue;
And thus abstracted, curious, still, serene,
He, unemploy'd, beheld life's shifting scene;
Still more averse from vulgar joys and cares,
Still more unfitted for the world's affairs.
There was a house where Edward ofttimes

went,

And social hours in pleasant trifling spent ; He read, conversed and reason'd, sang and play'd,

And all were happy while the idler stay'd;
Too happy one, for thence arose the pain,
Till this engaging trifler came again.

But did he love? We answer, day by day, The loving feet would take th' accustom'd way,

The amorous eye would rove as if in quest
Of something rare, and on the mansion rest;
The same soft passion touch'd the gentle
tongue,

And Anna's charms in tender notes were sung;

The ear too seem'd to feel the common flame, Sooth'd and delighted with the fair one's

name;

And thus as love each other part possess'd, The heart, no doubt, its sovereign power confessed.

Pleased in her sight, the youth required no

more;

Not rich himself, he saw the damsel poor; And he too wisely, nay, too kindly loved, To pain the being whom his soul approved.

A serious friend our cautious youth possess'd,

And at his table sat a welcome guest;
Both unemploy'd, it was their chief delight
To read what free and daring authors write;
Authors who loved from common views to soar,
And seek the fountains never traced before;
Truth they profess'd, yet often left the true
And beaten prospect, for the wild and new.
His chosen friend his fiftieth year had seen,
His fortune easy, and his air serene ;
Deist and atheist call'd; for few agreed
What were his notions, principles, or creed;
His mind reposed not, for he hated rest,
But all things made a query or a jest ;
Perplex'd himself, he ever sought to prove
That man is doom'd in endless doubt to rove;
Himself in darkness he profess'd to be,
And would maintain that not a man could see.

The youthful friend, dissentient, reason'd still

Of the soul's prowess, and the subject will;
Of virtue's beauty, and of honour's force,
And a warm zeal gave life to his discourse:
Since from his feelings all his fire arose
And he had interest in the themes he chose.
The friend, indulging a sarcastic smile,
Said- Dear enthusiast! thou wilt change
thy style,

When man's delusions, errors, crimes, deceit,
No more distress thee, and no longer cheat.
Yet lo! this cautious man, so coolly wise,
On a young beauty fix'd unguarded eyes;
And her he married: Edward at the view
Bade to his cheerful visits long adieu;
But haply err'd, for this engaging bride
No mirth suppress'd, but other cause sup-
plied:

And when she saw the friends, by reasoning long,

Confused if right, and positive if wrong, With playful speech and smile, that spoke delight,

She made them careless both of wrong and right.

This gentle damsel gave consent to wed, With school and school-day dinners in her head:

She now was promised choice of daintiest. food,

And costly dress, that made her sovereign

good;

With walks on hilly heath to banish spleen, And summer-visits when the roads were clean. All these she loved, to these she gave consent, And she was married to her heart's content. Their manner this-the friends together

read,

Till books a cause for disputation bred; Debate then follow'd, and the vapour'd child Declared they argued till her head was wild; And strange to her it was that mortal brain Could seek the trial, or endure the pain.

Then as the friend reposed, the younger pair

Sat down to cards, and play'd beside his chair
Till he awaking, to his books applied,

Or heard the music of th' obedient bride :
If mild the evening, in the fields they stray'd,
And their own flock with partial eye survey'd;
But oft the husband, to indulgence
Resumed his book, and bade them

Shed a soft beauty, and a dangerous grace.

When the young wife beheld in long debate The friends, all careless as she seeming sate; It soon appear'd, there was in one combined The nobler person and the richer mind : He wore no wig, no grisly beard was seen, And none beheld him careless or unclean; Or watch'd him sleeping :-we indeed have heard

Of sleeping beauty, and it has appear'd; 'Tis seen in infants-there indeed we find The features soften'd by the slumbering mind;

With careless freedom should converse or read,

And the friend's absence neither fear nor heed:

But rather now they seem'd confused, constrain'd;

Within their room still restless they remain'd, And painfully they felt, and knew each other pain'd.

Ah! foolish men! how could ye thus depend, One on himself, the other on his friend ?

The youth with troubled eye the lady

saw,

Yet felt too brave, too daring to withdraw; While she, with tuneless hand the jarring keys Touching, was not one moment at her ease: Now would she walk, and call her friendly guide,

Now speak of rain and cast her cloak aside; Seize on a book, unconscious what she read, And restless still, to new resources fled; Then laugh'd aloud, then tried to look serene, And ever changed, and every change was

seen.

Painful it is to dwell on deeds of shameThe trying day was past, another came; The third was all remorse, confusion, dread, And (all too late!) the fallen hero fled.

Then felt the youth, in that seducing time, How feebly honour guards the heart from crime:

prise,

May close her mouth, but not conceal her eyes;

Sleep from the fairest face some beauty takes, And all the homely features homelier makes; So thought our wife, beholding with a sigh Her sleeping spouse, and Edward smiling by.

A sick relation for the husband sent, Without delay the friendly sceptic went; Nor fear'd the youthful pair, for he had seen The wife untroubled, and the friend serene : No selfish purpose in his roving eyes, No vile deception in her fond replies: So judged the husband, and with judgment true,

For neither yet the guilt or danger knew. What now remain'd? but they again should play

Th' accustom'd game, and walk th' tom'd way;

accus

stay,

And thou, unhappy! virtuous now no more, Must loss of fame, peace, purity deplore; Sinners with praise will pierce thee to the heart,

And saints deriding, tell thee what thou art.' Such was his fall; and Edward, from that

time,

Felt in full force the censure and the crimeDespised, ashamed; his noble views before, And his proud thoughts, degraded him the

more:

Should he repent-would that conceal his

shame ?

Could peace be his? It perish'd with his fame:

Himself he scorn'd, nor could his crime forgive;

He fear'd to die, yet felt ashamed to live: Grieved, but not contrite was his heart; oppress'd,

And from associates pleased to find a friend, With powers to lead them, gladden, and defend,

In all those scenes where transient ease is found,

For minds whom sins oppress, and sorrows wound.

Wine is like anger; for it makes us strong, Blind and impatient, and it leads us wrong; The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long:

Thus led, thus strengthen'd in an evil cause, For folly pleading, sought the youth applause;

Sad for a time, then eloquently wild,
He gaily spoke as his companions smiled;
Lightly he rose, and with his former grace
Proposed some doubt, and argued on the case;
Fate and fore-knowledge were his favourite
themes-

schemes:

For faith he had not, or a faith too weak
To gain the help that humbled sinners seek;
Else had he pray'd-to an offended God
His tears had flown a penitential flood
Though far astray, he would have heard the
call

Of mercy-Come! return, thou prodigal; ' Then, though confused, distress'd, ashamed, afraid,

Still had the trembling penitent obey'd; Though faith had fainted, when assail'd by fear,

Hope to the soul had whisper'd, ' Persevere !' Till in his Father's house an humbled guest, He would have found forgiveness, comfort, rest.

But all this joy was to our youth denied By his fierce passions and his daring pride; And shame and doubt impell'd him in a

course,

Once so abhorr'd, with unresisted force. Proud minds and guilty, whom their crimes

oppress,

Fly to new crimes for comfort and redress;
So found our fallen youth a short relief
In wine, the opiate guilt applies to grief,—
From fleeting mirth that o'er the bottle lives,
From the false joy its inspiration gives;

'Whatever is, was ere our birth decreed ;
We think our actions from ourselves proceed,
And idly we lament th' inevitable deed;
It seems our own, but there's a power above
Directs the motion, nay, that makes us move;
Nor good nor evil can you beings name,
Who are but rooks and castles in the game;
Superior natures with their puppets play,
Till, bagg'd or buried, all are swept away.'

Such were the notions of a mind to ill
Now prone, but ardent, and determined still :
Of joy now eager, as before of fame,
And screen'd by folly when assail'd by shame,
Deeply he sank; obey'd each passion's call,
And used his reason to defend them all.

Shall I proceed, and step by step relate The odious progress of a sinner's fate? No-let me rather hasten to the time (Sure to arrive) when misery waits on crime. With virtue, prudence fled; what Shore possess'd

Was sold, was spent, and he was now distress'd :

Retiring late, at early hour to rise,

With shrunken features, and with bloodshot eyes:

If sleep one moment closed the dismal view,
Fancy her terrors built upon the true;
And night and day had their alternate
woes,

That baffled pleasure, and that mock'd repose;

Till to despair and anguish was consign'd
The wreck and ruin of a noble mind.

Now seized for debt, and lodged within a jail, He tried his friendships, and he found them fail;

To playful folly, and to causeless joy,
Speech without aim, and without end, em-
ploy ;

He drew fantastic figures on the wall,
And gave some wild relation of them all;
With brutal shape he join'd the human face,
And idiot smiles approved the motley race.

Harmless at length th' unhappy man was

found,

The spirit settled, but the reason drown'd;
And all the dreadful tempest died away,
To the dull stillness of the misty day.

And now his freedom he attain'd-if free, The lost to reason, truth, and hope, can be;

sure

The harmless wretch was now beyond a cure, Gave him to wander where he pleased, and find

His own resources for the eager mind;
The playful children of the place he meets,
Playful with them he rambles through the
streets;

In all they need, his stronger arm he lends,
And his lost mind to these approving friends.
That gentle maid, whom once the youth

had loved,

Is now with mild religious pity moved;
Kindly she chides his boyish flights, while he
Will for a moment fix'd and pensive be;
And as she trembling speaks, his lively eyes
Explore her looks, he listens to her sighs;
Charm'd by her voice, th' harmonious sounds
invade

His clouded mind, and for a time persuade :
Like a pleased infant, who has newly caught
From the maternal glance a gleam of thought,
He stands enrapt, the half-known voice to
hear,

And starts, half-conscious, at the falling tear. Rarely from town, nor then unwatch'd, he