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If ever it has washed our distant shore. . I see thee weep, and thine are honest tears, A patriot's for his country: thou art sad At thought of her forlorn and abject state. From- which no power of thine can raise her up. Thus'fancy paintsthee, and though apt to err, Perhaps errs little when she paints thee thus. She tells me too that duly every mora Thon dimbest the mountain top, with eager eye Exploring far and wide the watery waste. For sight of ship from England. Every speck Seen' in the dim horizon tarns thee pate With conflict of contending hopes and fears. But comes at last the dull and dusky eve, And sends thee to thy cabin, well-prepared . To dream all night of what the day denied. Alas! expect it ri6t. We found no bait To tempt us in thy country. Doing good, Disinterested good, is not our traded We travel far, 'tis true,but not for nought-, And must be bribed to compass earth again By other hopes and richer fruits than your's.
But though trne worth and virtue in the mild And genial soil of cultivated life Thrive most, and may perhaps thrive only thefts Yet not in cities off: ill proud and gay And gain-devoted cities. Thither flow, As to a common and most noisome sewe*4 The dregs a-rid feculence of every land. In cities foul example on most minds
Begets ksKkeness. Rank abundance breed:s
In grosjaod pampered cities sloth and tust.
And wantonness and gluttonous excess.
In cities vice is hidden with most ease,
Or seen with least reproach; and virtue, taught
By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there
Beyond the achievement of successful flight.
I do confess them nurseries of the arts
In which they flourish most; where, in the beams'
Of warm encouragement, and in the eye
Of public note, they reach their perfect size.
Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaimed
The fairest capital of all the world,
By riot and incontinence the worst.
There, touched by Reynolds, a dull blank becomes
A lucid mirror, in which Nature sees
All her reflected features. Bacon there
Gives more than female beauty to a stone,
And Chatham's eloquence to marble lips.
Nor does the chissel occupy alone
The powtrs of sculpture, but the style as much;
Each province of her art her equal care.
With nice incision of her guided steel ■;'.'
She ploughs a brazen field, and clothes a soil
So steril with what charms soever she will,
The richest scenery and the loveliest forms.
Where finds philosophy her eagle eye,
With which she gazes at yon burning disk
Undazzled, and detects and counts his spots*
In London: where her implements exact,
VOL. II. C
With which she calculates, computes, and scans,
All distance, motion, magnitude, and now
Measures an atom, and now girds a world?
In London. Where has commerce such a mart,
So rich, so thronged, so drained, and so supplied,
As London—opulent", enlarged, and still
Increasing, London? Babylon of old
Not more the glory of the earth than she,
A more accomplished world's chief glory now.
She has her praise. Now mark a spot or two
And liberty, and oft-times honour too,
And customs of her own, till sabbath rites
Have dwindled into unrespected forms,
And knees and hassocks are well nigh divorced.
God made the country, and man made the town. What wonder then that health and virtue, gifts, That can alone make sweet tlie bitter draught, That life holds out to all, should most abound And least be threatened in the fields and groves? Possess ye therefore, ye who, borne about In chariots and sedans, know no fatigue But that of idleness, and taste no scenes But such as art contrives, possess ye still Your element; there only can ye shine; There only minds like yours can do no harm. Our groves were planted to console at noon The pensive wanderer in their shades. At eve The moon-beam, sliding softly in between The sleeping leaves, is all the light they wish, Birds warbling all the music. We can spare The splendour of your lamps; they but eclipse Our softer satellite. Your songs confound Our more harmonidus notes: the thrush departs Scared, and the offended nightingale is mute. There is a public mischief in your mirth; It plagues your country. Folly such as your's, Graced with a sword, and worthier of a fan, Has made, what enemies could never have done, Our arch of empire, stedfast but for you, A mutilated structure, soon to fall.
Reflections suggested by the conclusion of the former book. —Peace among the nations recommended, on the ground of their common fellowship in sorrow.—Prodigies enumerated.—Sicilian earthquakes.—Man rendered obnoxious' to these calamities by sin.—God the agent in them.— The phiteq■hy, that stops at secondary causes reproved.— Our own kte qiistarriage;, accounted for.—Satirical notice taken of our trips to Fontaircbleau.—But the pulpit, not satire, the proper engine of reformation. —The Reverend Advertiser of engraved sermons.—Petit.maitre Parson.—. The .good preacher.—Pictures of a theatrical clerical coxcomb.—Story-tellers and iesters in the pulpit reproved.— Apostrophe to popular applause.—Retailers i>f ancient philosophy expostulated with.—-Sum of the whole matter. —EfTefts of sacerdotal mismanagement on the laity.— Their folly and extravagance.—The mischief? of profusion. —Profusion itself, with all its consequent evils,' ascribed, as to its principal cause, to the want of discipline in the universities.
On for a lodge in some vast wilderness,