Creation (1712)

Full text of "The poetical works of Sir Richard Blackmore ... Containing Creation; a philosophical poem, in seven books. To which is prefixed the life of the author" Presented to the LIBRARY of the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO

by Dae Hon. Peter Wright

THS

POETICAL WORKS

SIR RICHARD BLACKMORE.

CREATION;

A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM, IN SEVEN BOOKI. To which It prefix;*

THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.

The themes of vulgar lays, with juft difdam

I leave unfung, the flocks, the amorous fwain,

The pleafures of the land, and terrors of the main. ~

I meditate to foar above the ikies, f

To hights unknown, through ways untryM to rife ;

I would th* Eternal from his works aflert,

And fing the wonders of Creating Art.

CREATION. BOOK I.

EDINBURGH:

PSUNTED BY MjfNDLL AND SON, ROYAL BANK CLOSE;

Anr.9 1793,

JJRPA^V. '(j

"', " "*

MAY

THE LIFE OF BLACKMORE.

Off SIR RICHARD BLACKMORE, eminent as he was, both as a poet and aphyfician, very few me morials have been left by his contemporaries. His writings have attracted much notice ; but it hag been his lot to be much oftener mentioned by enemies than by friends.

He was the fon of Robert Blackmore of Corfharn, in Wiltfliirc, Gent, defcended from a good family in Dorfet(hire,and ftyled by Jacob, an " Attorney at Law." The time of his birth is not cer tainly known.

'He received his early education at a private country fchool, from whence, in the thirteenth year of his age, he was removed to Weftminfter. Of his fchool excrcifes tradition has prefcrved no ac count.

In 1668, he was entered a commoner of Edmund Hall, Oxford, where he took the degree of Mailer of Arts, June 3. 1676, and refided thirteen years; a much longer time than it is ufual to fpend at the Univerfity, and which feems to have been pafied in the ftudies preparatory to the pro- feflion he intended to follow ; which was that of phyfic.

Dr. Johnfon, who has written his life with candour and difcernment, is of opinion that he fpent his time at the Univerfity with very little attention to the bufincft of the place ; becaufe, in his poems, the ancient names of nations, or places, which he often introduces, are pronounced by chance. But it may be reasonably doubted, whether a few inftances of falfe pronunciation, or capricious or thography, are fuflicient to warrant the fuppufuion of his being negligent of (tudy, or deficient in chflical erudition.

In the early period of his life, he is faid to have been engaged for fome time in the profeffion of a fchoolmafter ; a Ctuation certainly not in itfelf diihonourablc, though it was often urged as a kind of reproach, when he became confpicuous chough to excite malevolence. In one of the numerous fatirical pieces that were written againft him, arc the following pungent lines, attributed by T. Brown, to Colonel Codrington :

By nature form'd, by want a pedant made,

Biackmore at firft fet up the whipping trade ;

Next quack commenced, then fierce with pride he fwore>

That toothach, gout, and corns, fbould be no more.

In vain his drugs, as well as birch he tried ;

His boys grew blockheads, and his patients died.

His being a fchoolmafter, is alfo alluded to by Garth, in the following UncS :

Unwieldly pedant, let thy awkward mufe With confciouspraife, with flatteries ab life; To lafh, and not be felt, in theeYan art; Thou ne'er mad'ft any but thy fchool-boys fmart.

" And let it be remembered," fays Dr. Johnfon, " for his hononr, that to have been once a fclioolmafter, is the only reproach which all the perfpicacity of malice, animated by wit, has ever fixed upon his private life."

It is probable that his indigence did not long compel him to teach a fchool. Some circumftances concurring, it may bciprefumed, in his favour, he travelled into Italy, and took the degree of Doctor of Phyfic, at the Univerfity of Padua.

He alfo vifited France, Germany, and the Low Countries, and, having fpent about a year and at half abroad, he returned to England.

On his arrival in London, he commenced PhyCciaii, and obtained high eminence and extenfiw practice,

ii]

5*4 THE LIFE OF BLACKMORE.

In 1718, he published a colle&ion of Poems en various Subjefis containing, the fmall pieces for merly printed, together with Hymn to the Light of the World, ii'itfj a Jefeription of the Cartoons of Raphael, firft printed in 1703, The Nature of Man, in three books, firft printed 1711, and Cremts, E'fatire, The ' tcry of Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, An Ode to the Creator, Hymn to the Sacred Spirit, On Repentance, On Retirement, Iff*.

Having fucceeded fo well in demonftrating the exiftence and providence of God, in his poem on the Creation, he now undertook to eftablifh the truth of Revelation, and publifhed, in 1711, Tie Re deemer, a Poem in fix books.

The fame year he produced A new verjion of the Pfafms of David, fated to the tunes nfed iti CLurchet,. Tvhich was recommended by public authority to be ufed in the Churches and Chapels of England. '

There was yet another monarch of this ifland whom he confidered as worthy of the epic mufe, and in 1723, he produced King Alfred, an Heroic Poem, in twelve books, whkh, like Eliza, " drop ped dead-born from the prefs," and clofed his epic labours. In the dedication he fays, that " he had a greater part in the fucceffion of the Houfe of Hanover than ever he had boafted."

" Of his four epic poems," fays Dr. Johnfon, " the firft had fuch reputation and popxilarity, as enraged the critics ; the fecond was at leaft known enough to be ridiculed ; the two l&ft found nei ther friends nor enemies."

Befides the original poems and effays already enumerated, he wrote a Variety of hiftorical, theo logical, and medkal tracls, which were publifhed in the following order : A Difcourfe on the PlaguS,- Svo, 1720: Modern Arians Unmajked, 8vo, 1 721; a Treatife on tie "Small- Pox, 8vo, 1722; Htf.ory of the Confpiracy againft King William, 8vo, 1723; a Treat'fe on Confumptions, 8vo, 1724; a Treatifs' on tie Spleen and Vapours, 8vo, 1725 ; a Critical Dijfertalion on the Spleen, 8vo, 1725 ; Juft Prejudices' .againjl the Arian Hyp'othejis, 8vo, 1725 > Difcourfes on the Gent, Rheumatlfm, and Kings Evil, 8vo, 1726; DijJ'ertations On a Droffy, a Tymfany, the Jaundice, the Static, and Diabetes, 8vo, I fi^J^ Natural Thtologt^ 8vo, 1728.

His biographers have reported, that the ridicule which was thrown on the poet,, was in time followed by the neglect of the phyfician ; and that his practice, which was once invidioufly great, for- fook him in the latter part of his life : but the fad may be reafonably doubted, "and fome commu nications in the " Gentleman's Magazme," for- 1 792, fhew that he was confuited by perfons of the highefl rank, and prefcrved his profefSonal credit and reputation till the clcfe of his life.

He died on the 8th of O&ober 1729, in an advanced age, and manifefted in his laft illnefs the' fame fervent piety which had diftinguifhed him in his life. He left behind him The Accompli/bed Preacher, or an Effay upon Divine Eloquence, which was printed in 8ro, 1731, by the'Rev. Mr.' John White of Nayland in EfTex, who attended his death-bed, and bore teftimony to the elevated piety with which he prepared for his approaching diflolution.

Since his death, none of his numerous publications have been reprinted, except his Creation, which has gone through feveral editions, and was recommended by Dr. Johnfon to be infertcd in the col lection of " The Engliih Poets," with the general approbation of the public.

Of the private life and domeflic character of Blackmore, there are no memorials. As a man he was jufHy entitled to great applaufe : for numerous as his enemies and opponents were, they feem to- have been incapable of fixing the leaft imputation on his ehara&er ; and thofe who perfonally knew him, fpoke highly of his virtues. He was the friend of Hughes. Addifon appears to have had a great perfonal regard for him, and he was in terms of friendihip with Pope, fo late as 1714. This friendfhip was broken by -his accufing Pope, in hi* E/ays, of profanenefs and immorality, oir a report from Curl that he was the author of a " Traveftie on the Firft Pfalm." Pope was after wards the perpetual and inceffant enemy of Blackmore, and fatirized him in the " Dunciad," ia the following lines :

But far o'er all, fonorous Blackmore's ftrain; Walls, fteeples, ikies, bray back to him again. In Tot'nam fields, the brethren, with amaze \ Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze, JLong Chanc'ry-lane retentive rolls the found, f :. And courts to courts return it round and round ;

THE LIFE OF BLACKMORE. S*>*

Thames wafts it thence fo Rufus' roaring hall, And Hungerford re echoes bawl for bawl. All hail him victor in both arts of fong, Who fings fo loudly and who fings fo long.

Hardly any writer has ever been more ridiculed than Blackmore ; yet there have been few, perhaps none, who have had better intentions. He was certainly a man of confiderabie learning and abili ties, and a moft zealous advocate for the interefts of religion and virtue. He wrote, indeed, too much, and was deficient in tafte; nor did he take fuiiiicient time to polifh his compofitions; but he was far from being deficient in genius, and, it is evident^ that it was not his dnllnefs whkh cx- oited fo much animofity againft him.

His Crettion is by univerfal confent accounted the nobleft prodiiclion of his genius. Addifon [Spefl, 339.] fays, it " was undertaken with fo good an intention, and executed with fo great a maftery, that it deferves to be looked upon as one of the moft ufeful and noble productions in our Englifh verfe. The reader cannot but be pleafed to fee the depths of philofophy enlivened with all the charms of poetry, and to fee fo great a Urength of reafon amid/I fo beautiful a redundancy of the imagination." Even Dennis calls it a " Philofophical Poem, which has equalled that of Lucre tius, in the beauty of its verification, and infinitely furpafied it in the folidity and flrength of its reafoning." "This writer," fays Mr. Duncombe, [Lcitcrt of Eminent Perfom, vol. i.p. 82.] " though the butt of the wits, efpecially Dryden and Pope, was treated with more contempt than he defervcd. In particular, his poem on the Creation has much merit. And let it be remembered, that the re- fentment of thofe wits were excited by Sir Richard's zeal for religion and virtue, by cenfuring the Kbertinifm of Dryden, and the (fuppofed) profanencfs of Pope."

" Blackmore," fays Dr. Johnfon, " by the unremitted enmity of the wits, whom he provoked more by his virtue than his dullnefs, has been expofed to worfe treatment than he deferved : his name was fo long ufed to. point every epigram upon dull writers, that it became at lad a bye-word F contempt ; but it deferves obfervation, that malignity takes hold only of his writings, and that his life pafied without reproach, even when his boldnefs of reprehenfion naturally turned upon him many eyes defirous to fpy faults } which mary tongues would have made hade to publifh.

" As an author, he may juftiy claim the honours of magnanimity. The inceflant attack of his enemies, whether ferious or merry, arc never difcovered to have difturbed his quiet, or to have Icfiened his confidence in himfelf ; they neither awaked him to filence^nor to caution ; they neither provoked him to petulance, nor deprefled him to complaint. While the diftributors of literary fame were endeavouring to depreciate and degrade him, he either defpifed or defied them, wrote on as he had written before, and never turned afide to quiet them by civility or reprefs them by con futation.

" He depended with great fecurity on his own powers, and perhaps was for that reafon lefs di ligent in perufing books. His literature was, I think, but fmall. What he knew of antiquity, I fufpedl him to have gathered from modern compilers ; but though he could not boaft of much eriticiJ knowledge, his mind was ftored with general principles; and he left minute reproaches to thofe whom he confidered as little minds.

41 With this difpofition he wrote moft of his poems. Having formed a magnificent defign, he was carclefs of particular and fubordinate elegancies; He fludied no niceties of verification ; h waited for no felicities of fancy ; but caught his firft thoughts on his firft words in which they were prefented ; nor does it appear that he faw beyond his performances, or had ever elevated his ideas to that ideal perfection which every genius born to excel is condemned always to purfuc, and never overtake. In the firfl fuggeftions of his imagination, he acquiefced ; he thought them good, and did not feek for better. His works may be read a long time without the occurrence of a fingle line that ftands prominent from the reft.

" The poem on Creation has, however, the appearance of more circumfpeclion ; it wants neither harmony of numbers, accuracy of ftyle, nor elegance of di<Stion ; it has either been written with great care, or what. cannot be imagined of fo long a work, with Aich felicity as made care left ucceflary,

286 THE LIFfi OF BLACKM6R&

" Its two conftituent parts are ratiocination and description. To reafon in verfe, is allowed 1 tcr fee difficult ; but Blackmore, not only reafons in verfe, but very often reafons poetically, and finds he art of uniting ornament with ftrength, and eafe with clofenefs. This is a flcill which Pope might have condefcended to learn from him, when he needed it fo much in his " Moral Eflays."

fcfuth is recommended by elegance, and elegance fuftained by truth.
 * In his defcriptions both of life and nature, the poet and the philofopher happily co-operate ;

In the ftru&urc and order of the poem, not only the greater parts are properly confecutive s fcut the deda&ic and illuftrative paragraphs are fo happily mingled, that labour is relieved by plea- fure, and the attention is led on through a long fucceffion of varied excellence, to the original po* fition, the fundamental principle of wifdom and of virtue.'*

CREATION;

PHILOSOPHICAL POEM.

IN SEVEN BOOKS.

i

BY SIR RICHARD BLACKMORE, KNIGHT, M.

AN FELLOW OF THE COLLEGE Of PHYSICIANS IN LONDON.

Principle cerium, ac terras campofqwc liquentes,


 * Lucentemque globum JLunac, Titaniaque aftra

" Spiritus intus alit, totamque infufa per artus

" Mens agitat molem, et mag no fe corpore mifcet.

" Inde hominum, pecudumque genus, viteque volantnm,

" Et quat znarmoreo fert monftra fub aecjucrc pontus."

VUG,

PREFACE.

IT has been the opinion of many perfons of great Tenfe and learning, that the knowledge of a God, as well as fome other felf- evident and uncontefted notions, is born with us, and exifts antecedent to any perception or operation of the mind. They cxprefs themfelves on this fubjcft in metaphorical terms, altogether unbecoming philofophical and judicious inquiries, while they affert, that the knowledge of a God is interwoven with our con- ilitution, that it is written, engraven, ftamped, and imprinted in clear and difcernible characters en the heart ; in which manner of fpeech they affect to follow the great Orator of the Romans.

By thefe unartful phrafes they can mean no thing but this, that the propofition, There is a God, is actually exiftent in the mind, as foon as the mind has its being ; and is not at firft acquired, though it may be afterwards confirmed, by any ail of reafbn, by any argument or demon ft ration. 1 mull confefs my inability to conceive this inbred knowledge, thefe original independent ideas, that owe not their being to the operation of the under- ftanding, but are, I know not how, congenite and t;o-cxiftcnt with it.

For how a man can be faid to have knowledge jefore he knows, how ideas can exift in the mind without and before perception, I mud own is too difficult for me to comprehend. That a man is born with a faculty or capacity to know, though as yet without any actual knowledge ; and that, as the eye has a native difpofition and aptitude to perceive the light, when fitly offered, though as yet it never exercifed any a& of vifion, and had no innate images in the womb ; fo the mind Is endued with a power and faculty to know and perceive the truth of this proportion, There it a* GoJ, as foon as it fhall be reprefented to it ; all this is clear and intelligible ; but any thing more is, as I have faid, above my reach. In this opi nion, which I had many years ago entertained, was afterwards confirmed by the famous author o the Eflay on Human Underftanding. Nor can S fee that, by this dodtrine, the argument for the> exiftence of a Deity, drawn from the general af- fcnt of all nations (excepting perhaps fome few, who are fo barbarous that they approach very near the condition of brute animals), is at all in- validated. For iuppoficg there is no inbred kntm^

THE WORKS O F B L A C K M R E.

ledge of a God; yet if mankind generally aflent to It whether their belief proceeds from their re flection on themfelves, or on the vifible creation about them, it will be certainly true, that the ex- iftence of a Deity carries with it the cleareft and moft uncontrolable evidence ; fince mankind fo rcadvly and fo univerfally perceive and embrace it. It deferves confideration, that St. Paul upon this argument does not appeal to the light within, or to any characters of the Divine Being originally engraven on the heart, "but deduces the caufe from the effect, and from the creation infers the

It Is very probable that thofe who believe an in nate idea of a Divine Being, unproduced by* any operation of the mind, were led by this to ano ther opinion, namely, that there never was in the world a real Atheift in belief and fpeculation, how many foever there may have been in life and prac tice. But, \ipon due examination, this opinion, I imagine, will not abide the teft ; which I fhall endeavour to make evident.

But, before I enter upon this fubje&, it feems proper to take notice of the apology, which fe- veral perfoiis of great learning and candour have made for many famous men, and great philofo- phers, unjuflly accufed of impiety.

Whoever fiiall fet about to mend the world, and reform men's notions, as well as their manners, will certainly be the mark of much fcandal and reproach ; and will effe&ually be convinced, that it is too poflible the greateft lovers and benefadlors of mankind may be represented by the multitude, whole opinions they contradict, as the worft of Kien. The hardy undertakers, who exprefs their zeal to rectify the fentiments of a prejudiced peo ple in matters of religion, who labour to ftem the tide of popular error, and ftrike at the founda tions of any ancient, eftablifhed fuperflition, rnufl themfelves expect to be, treated as pragmatical and infolent innovators, diilurbers of the public peace, and the grc-at enemies of religion. The obferva- tion of all ages confirms .this truth ; and, if any mail who is doubtful of it would try the experi ment, I make no qucftion he will very foon be thoroughly convinced.

It is no wonder, therefore, that Anaxagoras, though he was the firft philofopher who plainly afferted an Eternal Mind by whofe power the ^ world was made, for oppofing the public worfhip * at Athens, whofe refined wits were plunged in the mofc lenfelefs idolatry, and particularly for denying the divinity of the Sun, fhould be condemned for irreligion, and treafon againft t^he -rods ; and be heavily fined and banifhed the city, ft is r.o wonder, after fo fharp a perfecution of this zealous reformer, that Socrates, the next fuc- c.t'flbr but one to Anaxagoras, and the lafl of the Ionic fchool, for oppofing their fcandalous rabble e deities, ar,d afferting one Divine Being, mould he condemned for atheifra, and put to death, by "blind fuperflition and implacable bigotry.

Some have been condemned by their antagonifts

for impiety, wl:o maintain pofitions, which thofe

\vhora they difient imagine have a tendency

to the difbelief of a Deity. But this is a manifett violation of juflice, as well as candour, to impute to any man the remote confequences of his opi nion, which he himfelf difclaims and detefts, and who, if he faw the connection cf his principles with fuch conclufions, would readily renounce them. No man can be reafonably charged with more opinions than he owns; and if this juftice were obferved in polemical difcourfes, as well of theology as philofophy, many perfons had efcaped thofe hard names, ami terrible cenfures, which their angry antagonifts have thought fit to fix upon them. No one, therefore, is to be reputed an Atheift, or ap enemy to religion, upon the ac count of any erroneous opinion, from which ano ther may, by a long chain of fequels, draw that conclufion ; much lefs for holding any doctrines in philofoph;-, which the common people are not able to examine cr comprehend, who, when they meddle with fpeculations, of which ttoey are un qualified to judge, will be as apt to cenfure a philofopher for an atheift, as an aftronomer for a magician.

I would fain too in this place make fome apo logy for the great numbers of loofe and vicious men, who laugh at religion, and feem in their converfation to difclaim the belief of a Deity. I do not mean an apology for their practice, but their opinion. I hope thefe unhappy perfons, at leaft. the greateft part, who have given up the reins to their paffions and exorbitant appetites, are, rather than atheifls, a carelefs and ftupid fort of creatures, who, either out of a fupihe tem per, or for fear of being difturbed with remorfe iti their unwarrantable enjoyments, never foberly confider with themfelves, or exercife their reafon on things of the higheft importance. Thefe per fons never examine the arguments that enforce the belief of a Deity, and the obligations of religion : but take the word of their ingenious friends, or fome atheiftical pretender to philofophy, who af lures them there is no God, and therefore no re ligion. And notwithftanding all atheifts have leave given them by their principles to become li bertines, yet it is not true that all libertines are atheifts. Some plainly aflert their belief of a God ; and others, who deny his exiftence, yet do not deny it upon any principles, any fcherrie of philofophy which they have framed, and by which they account for the exiftence and duration of the world, in the beautiful order in which we fee it, without the aid of a Divine Eternal Mind.

But there are two forts of men, who, without injuftice, have been called atheifts; thofe who frankly and in plain terms have denied the being- of a God ; and thofe who, though they afferted his being, denied thofe attributes and perfections, which the idea of a God includes ; and fo, while they acknowledged the name, fubvertedthe thing. Thefe are as real atheifts as the former, but lefs Cncere. If any man fhould declare he believes a Deity, but afiirms that this Deity is of human fhape, and not eternal ; that he derives his being from the fortuitous concourfe and complication cf atoms ; 'or, though, he allowed him to be eternal.

PREFACE.

58?

fhould maintain, that lie f!;o\ved i\o wifdom, de- gn, or prudence, in the formation, and no care or providence in the government of the world ; that he never reflects on any thing exterior to his own being, nor interefts himfelf in humr.n affairs ; .iloes not know, or does not attecd to, any of our aliens : fuch a perfon is, indeed, and in effect, as ranch an atheifb as the former. For though he owns ths- appellation, yet his defcription is de finitive of the idea of a God. I do not affirm, that the idea of a God implies the relation of a Creator : but, fince in the demonstration of the exiftenceiof a God, we argue from the effect to the caufe, and proceed from the contemplation of the creature to the knowledge of the Creator, it is evi- ient we cannot know there is a God, but we muft know him to be the Maker, and, if the Maker, then the Governor and Benefactor of the world. Could there be a God, who is entirely regardlefs of things without him, who is perfectly uncon cerned with the direction and government of the world, is altogether indifferent whether we wor- fhip or affront him, and is neither pleafed nor dif- }>leafed with any of our actions ; he would cer tainty to us be the fame as no God. The log in the fable would be altogether as venerable a deity ; for, if he has no concern with us, it is plain, we liave none with him : if we are not fubject to any laws he has made for us, we can never be obedient, or difobedient, nor can we need furgivennefs, or expect reward. If we are nut the fubjedts of his care and protection, we can owe hkn no love or gratitude ; if he either does not hear, or difregards cur prayers, how impertinent is it to build temples, and to worfhip at his altars '. In my opinion, fuch notions of a Deity, which lay the axe to the root of all religion, and make all the expreffions of it idle and ridiculous; which deftroy the diflinction of good and bad, all morality of our actions, and remove all the grounds and reafuns of fear of pu- nifliment, 'and hope of reward; will juftly de nominate a man an atheift, though he ever fo much difclaims that ignominious title.

Thales, the founder cf the Ionic fchool, and the philofophers who Succeeded him, Anaximander, Anaximenes, Diogenes, Apollionates, Anaxagoras, and Archelaus, are cenfured by Ariftotle as dif- helievcrs of a Deity ; the reafon he gives is, that thefe philofophers, in treating of the principles of the world, never introduce the Deity as the efficient caufe. But if it be confidered, that na tural fcience was then in its infancy, and that thofe primitive philofophers only undertook to account for the material principle out of which the world was made, which one aflerted to be water, one lire, another air ; though this may prove that they formed but a lame and unfinifhed fcheme of phi lofophy, yet it does not evince, that they denied the being of a God, or that they did not believe him to be the efficient caufe of all things. It is indeed a convincing evidence that their philofo- phy was imperfect, as at firft it might well be ; tut from their filence or omiflion of him in their fyftems, when they defigned to treat only of the material caufes of things, it is unreaJTonable to af

firm that they denied las being t and it Is certain Anaxagoras taught, that, befuies it matter, was absolutely neceffary to aflsrt a Divine Mind, the Contriver and Maker of the world; and for this religious principle, as we faid before, he was at Athens un iiluflrious confeffor.

After the death of Socrates, the Ionic fchool was foon divided into various fects and philofo- phienl parties : of the Cyrer.aic fchool, Theodo } rus and Dion Borifthenitcs, were reputed Atheifts, contcmners of the Gods, and deridcrs nf religion. Yet iince it does not appear, that they had formed any impious fcheme of philofophy, or maintained their irreligion by any pretended principles of rea fon, it is not improbable that thefe men we're ra ther abandoned libertines, without confidera- tion and reflection, than fpeculative and philofo- phical Atheifts.

The Italic fchool, to its great difhonour, was more fertile in impiety, and produced a greater number of thefe irreligious philolbphers. The mailers, who fuccecded their famous founder Py thagoras, foon degenerated from his noble and pious principles, and not only corrupted the purity of his doctrine, but became downright apoftates, renouncing the belief of a God, and fubverting the foundations of religion. Leucippus, Dcmo- critus, Diagoras, and Protagoras, were juftly reckoned in this rank; who aflerted, that the world was made by the cafual combination of atoms, without any afliftance or" direction of a Divine Mind. They taught their followers this doctrine, fupported it with argument!, and fo were Atheiils on the pretended principles of rea fon. But x among all the ancient obdurate A- theiftsj and inveterate 'enemies of religion, no one feems more fincere, or more implacable, than Epicurus.

And though this perfon was .perhaps of as dull an underftanding, of as unrefined thought, and as little fagacity and penetration, as any man who was ever complimented with the name of a philo- fopher ; yet fevcral great wits, arid. men of di- ftinguifhed learning, in this laft age, have been pleafed to give the world high encomiums of his capacity and fuperior attainments.

After a long night cf ignorance had overspread the face of Europe, many wife men, from a gene rous love of truth, refolved to exercife their rea fon, and free themfelves from prejudice, and a fervile veneration of great names, and prevailing- authority ; ami, growing impatient of tyrannical impofitions, as well in phiiolbphy as religion, to their great honour, feparated both from the church of Rome, and the fchool of Ariftotle. Thefe pa triots of the commonwealth of learning, combined to reform the corruptions, and redrefs the griev ances of philofophy : to pull down the Peripatetic monarchy, and fet up a free and independent ftate of fcience ; and, being fully convinced of th,c weaknefs and unreafonablenefs of Ariflotle's fy- fiem, which confifted chiefly of words without any determined meaning, and of idle metaphyfical definitions, o-f which many \verc falfe. and many unintelligible ; they in this cafe had rccourfc to

THE WORKS OP BLACKMORE.

the Corpufcularian hypothefis, and revived the ob- iblete and exploded fyftem of Epicurus.

Many of thefc noble leaders, who had declared again ft the Peripatetic ufurpation, and aflerted the rights and liberties of human underftanding, called in this phitofopher, for want of a better, to depofe Ariftctle. And tho.ugh a general revolution did fcience, as he was once efteemed, was very great. When thefc firft reformers of Ariftotle's fchool had ^fpoufed the intereft of Epicur.us, and introduced liis doctrines, that his hypothesis might be received with the lefs oppofition, they thought it necefiary to remove the ignominious character of impiety, under which their ph jlofopher had Jong lain. And it is indeed very natural for a man, who has em braced another's notions and principles, to believe 'well of his mafter, and to ftand up in the defence c his reputation. The learned Gaflendus is emi nent above all othcrsior the warm zeal he has ex- prcfled, and the great pains he has taken, to vin dicate the honour of Epicurus, and clear his cha racter from the imputation of irreligion.
 * not follow, yet the defection from the prince of

After the unhappy fate of Anaxagoras and the great Socrates, it is no wonder that the philofo- phers, who fucceeded fhould .grow more cautious in propagating their opinions, for fear of provok ing the magiftrate, and making thcmfelves ob noxious to the laws of .their country : and, if any had formed irreligious fchemes, it is to be fuppofed, they would talce care to guard, as well as they could, againft the punifliment to be inflicted on bliihed worfhip. An atheift cannot be fup.pofed to be fond of fuffering, when pain and death are what he chiefly abhors : and therefore Epicurus, who, if Cicero and Plutarch knew his opinion, was a downright profefled atheift, has not in terms denied, but indeed averted, the being of the gods; and fpeaks honourably of them, fo far as regards the excellence of their nature, and their feappinefs. But when he defcribes his gods, and gives them a human face and limbs, and fays they are neither incorporeal nor corporeal, but as ijt were corporeal ; while he excludes them from any liand in making, or care including and governing the world, and undertakes to (how that all things ^were brought about by mere chance, without any lielp or dire&ion of the gods, who are altogether unconcerned with human affairs, and regardlefs of our actions; he muft laugh in himfelf,and be fup- jpofed to have formed this ridiculous idea of a Di vine Being, merely to efcape the chara&er of an impious philosopher. For though he owns the name of a God, by his dcfcription he entirely deftroys the Divine Nature. Nor do I think, that Ariftotle can be defended from the charge of atheifm ; for while he affirms, that the world, as to its for mation, as well as its progreilion and duration, is independent on the go,ds, and owes nothing to their power, wifdom, or providence, he utterly Subverts all pretence to religion and divine wor- ihip, and comes at laft into the dregs of the Epi curean fcheme : this, I believe, I have plainly j&roved in the following pocBJ.
 * 11 who denied the gods, and derided the efta-

As to the modern Athicfls, Vaninus, HoKbea; and Spinofa ; I have fpokcn of them in their turn, and Ihall not anticipate what is faid hereafter.

J have been determined to employ fome of my leifure hours in writing on this fubjeft, by the me lancholy reflexion I have often made on the growth of profanenefs, and the prevailing power of loofe and irreligious principles in this nation.

It is a mortifying confideration to all who love mankind, and wifh well to their country, that this opinion has of late years, above the example of paft ages, fpread its contagious influence fo far and wide, that now, emboldened by' the power and number of its affertors, it becomes infolent and for midable. Thofe impious maxims, which a fmall party in the laft age, when inflamed with wine, vented in private, are now the entertainment of the coffee-houfe, publicly profefled, and in many companies fpokcn of in cool blood, as the ordinary fubje6ts of cnverfation.

All ages have brought forth fome monfters, fome profeflbrs and patrons of irreligion; monilers in refpe-ft of their fcarcenefs, as well as deformity; but the amazing abundance of thefe odious pro ductions is, 1 believe, peculiar to this fertile age. I am apt to think, that moft who were reckoned athiefts in former rigns were rather unbridled libertines, than irreligious in principle : but now we are fa far advanced, that the infection has feiz- ed the mind ; the Atheift in practice is become one in fpeculation, and loofcnefs of manners improved to intellectual impiety.

Many (which is without example )Texprefs an, ardent zeal for profanenefs, are grown bigots in atheifm., and with great induftry and application propagate their principles, form parties, and con cert meafures to carry on with vigour the caufe of, irreligion. They carefs, and are very fond of, thofe who boldly declare forimpiety, and mock all religion as cheat and impofture. Thefe are wits, mep of fenfe, of large and free thoughts, and can not fail of being men in fafhion. And as the re negades and deferters of heaven, who renounce their God for the favour of men, and choofc to grow -popular at the deareft rate, are by many pro tected and applauded : fo there are places where a man, that has the affurance to own the belief of a Deity and a future ftate, would be expofed and laughed out of countenance. Hence many are tempted to conceal their notions of religion, for fear of Wafting their reputation, and of being ne- gledled and defpifed by thofe from whofe favouf they expecl profit or promotion.

Immediately after the Restoration, {the people, intoxicated with the pleafures of peace, and influ enced by the example of a loofe court, as well as from their great averfion to the former fanatical ftridnefs and feverity of converfation, which they detefted as hypocrify, indulged themfelves in fen- fual liberties, and by degrees funk deep into luxury and vice. Then it was that fome irreligious men, taking advantage of this growing diffolution of manners, began to propagate their deteftable no tions, and fow the feeds of profanenefs and im piety, which fprung up apace, and flowiihed. i>

PREFACE.

f roportion to the growth of "immorality. Thus vice and irrcligion, mutually afiifting each other, extended their power by daily encroachments; and the folid temper and firmnefs of mind, which the people once poffeffed, being flackened and diffolved by the power of riot and forbidden pleafure, their judgment foon became vitiated ; which corruption of tafte has ever fmce gradually increafed, as the confederate powers of vice and profanenefs have fpread their infection, and gained upon religion.

While loofe principles and impious opinions per- yert the judgment, a petulant humour, that inclines nien to give an air ef levity and ridicule to all their difcourfes, and turn every thing to mirth and raillery, does in proportion get ground; this being efteemed the moft fuccefsful method to weaken the power and authority of religion in the minds of men.

I would not here be underftood as if I condemn ed the qualifications of wit and pleafantry, but only the mifapplication of them. I fhall always retain a great value for ingenious men, provided they do not abufe and proftitute their talents to the worft purpofes ; I mean the deriding all fobriety of manners, and turning into jeft the principles which conftitute our duty here, and affure ourhap- pinefs hereafter. But can any man who reveres a God, and loves his country, (land by unconcerned, while loofe and profane wits fhow fo much zeal and diligence in propagating maxims, which tend fo directly to the difhonour of the one, and the ruin of the other ?

Should Atheifm and corruption of manners, thofe infeparable companions, which, as caufes and effects, mutually introduce and fupport each other, prevail much farther; fhould impious notions in any age hereafter generally infect the higheft, as well as the inferior ranks of men ; what confufion of affairs mud enfue ! It would be impoffible to find men of principle to fill the places of trull and honour, or patrons to promote them : merit would incapacitate and disqualify fqr the favour of great men, and a religious character would bean invinci ble obftmdlion to advancement ; there woqld be no perfons of rank to encourage men of worth, and bring negle&ed virtue into fafhion. On the contra ry, the contemners of heaven and deriders of piety would be careffed, applauded, and promoted ; the difpofers of preferment would confer all on thofe who embrace their opinions : and what a terrible temptation would this be to our youth, to accom modate their notions to thofe of the men in power, when they fhall fee that their favour is not other- wife to be procured !

Is it not highly probable that, in fuch an age, clubs and cabals would be formed of fcoffers and buffoons, to laugh religion out of countenance, and make the profefibrs of it the objeft of public fcorn and contempt ?

Befides, it is natural to believe that magiftrates in a commonwealth, generally compofed of a- theifts, would likewife proceed to violence, and perfecute thofe whom they could not perfuade to embrace their notions, as much as any^fecT: of reli gion has ever done. For it is not religion, but

corrupted human nature, that pufhes men on to compulfive methods of obliging their adverfaries to renounce their own, and affert the opinions of men in power. It is from the factious temper of a party, not the fpirit of piety ; it is from pride and an impatience of contradiction, or from luft of dominion, or a violent defire of engroffing the places of honour and profit, that men endeavour, by cruel and coercive methods, to ftlence their op ponents, and fupprefs their competitors. And if ic will be allowed that human paflions will always exert themfelves with uniformity, and therefore ftill produce the like effects ; if we may foretel what atheifts when in power are like to do, fromv what they have done, as far as they had ability ; we may be aflured,when they do not want power, they will never want a will to employ violence, to extinguifli the notions of piety, and the hateful herefy of religion. It would not be ftrange if a- theiftical tefts, in fuch a ftate of affairs, fhould bo formed and impofed, to keep men of dangerous principles out of all pofts of power and profit; and all that believed the being of a God, and the re- wards and punifhments of another life, fhould be looked on as difaffected to the government, an'4 the difturbers of the public peace.

And if fuch notions of impiety, and fuch a de generate conftitution of manners, fhould ever pre vail in this unhappy nation, any man, without the gift of prophecy, and, indeed, with a very mode rate penetration, may forefes, that the, public will then be expofed to inevitable ruin.

But before the interefts of virtue and religion re reduced to fo deplorable a ftate, it is to be hop ed this once wife and fober nation will awakea from its lethargy ; that, notwithftanding the pre- fent popularity of vice, levity, and impiety, it ma/ one day recover its relifh of folid knowledge and real merit; that buffoons themfelves may one day be erpofed, the laughers in their turn become ridi culous, and an (atheiftical fcoffer be as much out of credit, as a fober and religious man is at pre- fent : virtue, ferioufneft, and a due reverence o facred and divine things, may revive among us - and it is the duty and intcreft ef every man that loves his country, and wifhes well to mankind, to make his utinoft efforts to bring about fuch a happy revolution. This would the fooner be effected, if the virtuous part of ingenious men (for virtue has ftill a party) would not fupinely ftand by, and fee the honour and intereft of religion expofed and in- fulted ; but, inftead of an abject, unactive defpon- dence, would unite their endeavours, with vigour and refolution, again ft the common enemies of God and their country. It is great pity, that in fo no ble a caufc any fhould fhow fuch poornefs of fpirit, as to be afhamcd of aflerting their religion, and ftemming the tide of impiety, for fear of becoming the entertainment of fcoffing libertinef.

I know the gentlemen of atheiftical notions pretend to refined parts, and pafs themfelves upon the world for wits of the firft rank : yet in debate they decline argument, and rather truft to the de- cifion of raillery. But if it were poffible for thefe gentlemen to apply themfelves in good eyncft to.

THE WORKS OF BLACK MO RE.

the rfafens alleged in proof of o Divine Being, in a manner thai becomes an inquiry of fuch confe- <Juence, I mould believe their conviction were not to be dcfpaired of.

But there is little appearance that they will be ever prevailed on to confider this mafter with de liberate and unprejudiced thought ; and, therefore, I am not fo fanguine to think v that any arguments I can -bring, though ever fo clear and demonftra- tive, arc like to make any impreflion upon a vete ran atheift. I have, neverthelefs, thought it a fea- fonable fervice to endeavour to Hop the contagion, and, as far as I am able, to prefervc thofe who are not yet infected,

1 would entreat thefe to diftinguifh between raillery and argument, and not believe that mirth jought to determine in fo weighty a cafe; that they would not admit of principles of the utmoft con cern without examination, and take impiety upon content ; that they would appeal from the buffoon and the mocker, to the impartial decifion of right reafon, and debate this matter with ihe gravity that becomes the importance of the fubject.

But, fmce the gentlemen who own no obliga tions of religion for the rule of behaviour, fet up in its, ftead a fpuricus principle, which they call honour, and a greatnefs of mind, that will not de- fccnd to a mean or bafe action ; let them reflect, whether that term, as they ufe it, is not an empty found without any determined meaning. If ho- liour lays a man under any obligation to perform <ir forbear any action, then, .it is evident, honour is a law or rule, and the tranfgreffion of it makes us guilty and obnoxious to pumfhment : and if it be a law, it-mud be the decoration of fome legif- Jatcr's- will ; for this is the definition of a law that regulates the manners of a moral agent. Now, I aik a man of honour, who denies religion, what, or whofe law he breaks, if he deviates from what he imagines a point of honour ? It is plain there can be no tranfgreffion, where there is no law ; no irregularity where there is no rule ; nor can a man do a bafe or dishonourable thing, if he lies under no obligation to the contrary. Honour, therefore, abftracted from the notion of religion, which enjoins it, is an idle chimera, which can have little power over any man that does not be lieve a Divine Legiflator, whofe authority muft en force it.

It is the fame with friendfhlp and gratitude, which-^re principles that the Atheift will often commend. But how is any man bound to be grateful, or to be a friend ? Should he act a con trary part, and be treacherous and ungrateful, what guilt has he contracted ? Has he offended againft any law ? or can he become guilty, without the breach of any ? If you fay he has broken any law, tell us the law, and by whom it was made. If the laws of the Supreme Being are fet afide, we can Jie under no regulation, but have an unbounded liberty over all our actions; we may, without the leail fault or difhonour, break our oaths, fubyert the government, betray our friends, afiaffinate our parents, in fhort, commit all khjds of the moft dcteftabic crimes without remorfe ; for, not being

controlled by any obligation, we may do whatever our paffions or our interefts prompt us to, without ' being accountable to any tribunal for the leaft tranfgreffion.

If it be faid, we are obliged by the laws of our counrry ; I anfwer, that, as to the actions we are ! fpeakiug of, fuch as a man of, honour, a great and generous mind, a friend, a grateful perfon, is fup- pofed to think himfelf obliged to, thefe are fuch as are not regulated by municipal laws, and there fore men are at liberty, whether they will ad by what they call a principle of honour or not, and can juftly incur no cenfure or reproach, fhould they have no regard to that pompous and founding word; for if their actions are not morally deter mined either by human or divine laws, they may very juftly, and honourably too, aft with unlimited freedom in thefe matters. Befides, whoever be lieves himfelf free from the obligations of divine precepts, cannot look on himfelf as bound by any human laws. He may indeed, from the appre- henfion of punifhment, forbear an action thus for bidden, and it is his intereft fo to do : but, if he thinks no divine authority makes it; his duty to fubmit to the magiftrate, and obey the laws of his country, he is at liberty, as to any guilt, whether he will obey or no If he ventures the punifh ment, he efcapes the fin. If an Atheift fwears fi delity to his prince, what controlling power is he under, which affects the mind, not to betray him, if he thinks it fit and fafe to do it ? If he lets hip parents, or his patron, or his friend perilb, what iniquity is he accountable for ?

The exifteuce of a God has heen already cleared, and abundantly demonftrated, by many pious and learned authors; whence this attempt may be cen- fured as impertinent and unnecelfary. But all thofe excellent performances being writ in profe, and the greatcft part in the learned languages, or at leaft in a fcholaftic manner, arc ill-accommoda ted to great numbers not of a learned education ; and many who have more knowledge, and greater genius, will not undergp the trouble of reading and confidering the arguments expreffed in a man ner to them obfcure, dry, and difagreeable. I have therefore 'formed a poem on this great and impor tant fubject, that J might give it the advantages peculiar to poetry, and adapt it more to the gene ral apprehension and capacity of mankind. The harmony of numbers engages many to read and retain what they wquld neglect if written in profe ; and I perfuade myfelf the Epicurean philofophy had not lived fo long, nor been fo much efteemed,, had it not been kept alive and propagated by the famous poem of Lucretius,

I have chofen to demonftrate the exiftence of at God from the marks of wifdom, defign, contri vance, and the choice of ends and means, which appear in the univerfe. Out of the various argu ments that evince the truth of this propofition, " There is a God," I havefeiected this as the moft evident and intelligible.

I may with reaibn prefume, tbat I fliall not in cur any ceniure for net employing new arguments to prove the being of a God; none but v/hat hav

P R E F A C

59S

i>sen produced before by many writer?, even from the tided days of philofophy. It was never obje&ed to Lucretius, that, in his applauded poem, he has not invented a new fyftem of philofophy, but only recited in poetical numbers th ancient d< dtriues of Democritus and Epicurus. Nor can it with reafon be fuppofed, that the arguments by which he lupports their opinions were not long before in the fchools of Greece. Nor ha<e modern writers en this fubje6t invented, but purfcied the demon- ftration of a God, from the evident appearance of contrivance and wifdom in the vifible world, which they have done wich more clearnefs and flrength, than thofe who went before them. And while thcfe have attempted to evircee the exigence of a God only from the contemplation of corporeal jiature, I have carried the argument on to the ac tions of living, fenfitive, and intelligent beinps, fo far as we are acquainted with them ; believing <hat brighter and more noble itrokes of wifdom and defigti appear in the principles of life, fenfa- tion, and reafon, than in all the compafs of the material world.

I have endeavoured to give the fubjecft yet great er degrees of perfpicuity, more variety of argu ment, a* well as eafy and familiar expreflinn, that, the ftyle being more plealing, and the dcmonftra- tion more readily apprehended, it may leave a deeper impreflu/n, and its effects and ufefulnefs may become more extenfive. In order to this, I have rarely ufed any term of art, or any phrafe peculiar to the writing and convtrfation of learn ed men. I have attempted, as Monfieur Fonte- nelle has ione with great fucccfs in his plurality of worlds, to bring philofopby out of the iecret re- ceifes of the fchood*, and ftrip it of its uncouth and myfterious drefs, that it may become agreeable, and admitted to a general converfation.

I take* it for granted, that no judicious reader will exped, in the philofophical and argumenta tive parts of this poem, the ornaments of poetical eloquence. In this cafe, where metaphor and de- fcription are not admitted left they fhould darken and enfeeble the argument, if the reafoning be clofe, ftrong, and eafily apprehended; if there be an elegant fimplicity, purity, and propriety of words, and a juft order and connection of the parts, mutually fupporting and enlightening one another, there will be all the perfection: which the flyle can demand.

I may fafely conclude, that no man will expe& that in this po<jm I fliould borrow any embellifti- ments from the exploded and obfolete theology of the ancient idolaters of Greece or Rome ; that 1 fhould addrcfs any rapturous invocations to their idle deities, or adorn the ftyle with allufions to their fabulous actions. I have more than one.- publicly declared my opinion, that a Chriftian poet cannot but appear monftrous and ridiculous in a Pagan drefs; that though it fliould be granted, that the heathen religion might be allowed a place in light and loofe longs, mock heroic, and the lower lyric compefitions ; yet, in Chriftian pccms of the fublime and greater kind, the mixture of the Pagan theology muff, by all who arc rea' ! cr

Jot. VII.

of refle6'don and good fenfe, be condemned, if not as impious, at leaft as impertinent and abfurd. And this is a truth fo clear and evident, that I make no do':bt it will by degrees force its way, and prevail over the contrary practice. Should Briton* recover their virtue, and reform th^jr tafta, they would no more bear the heathen religion in verfe, than in profe. Chriftian poets, as well as Chriftian preachers, the buiinefs of botfr being to inftrn6t the people, though the lait only are whol ly appropriated to it, (houlcl endeavour to confirm, and fpread their own true religion. If a divine Ihould begin his fermon with a folernn prayer to Bacchus, or Apollo, to Mars, or Venus, what would the people think of tbdr preacher * And is it not as re- ally, though not equally, abfurd, for a p<jet in a great and ferious poem, wherein he cele brates foiiie wonderful and happy event of Divine Providence, or magnifies the illuttrioHS inftrument that was honoured to bring the event about, to ad- drefs his prayer to falfe deities, and cry for help to the abominations of the heathen?

The dcfign of this poem is to demonftrtte the felf-exiftent-e of an Eternal Mind from the created and dependent exiftence of the univerfe, and to confute the hypothefis of the Epicureans and Fa- Utlifts, under whom all the patrons of impiety, an cient or modern, of whatfoevcr denomination, may be ranged. The firft of whom affirm the world was in time caufed by chance; and the other that it exifted from eternity without<a caufe. It is true, as before mentioned, both thcfe acknowr ledged the exiftence of gods ; but, by their abfunl aivd ridiculous defcription of them, it is plain they had nothing elfe in view, but to avoid the pbnoxi- ous character of atheiftical philofphers.

This likewifc has been often objected to the deifts of the prefent times, that at leaft a great part of them only conceal their notions under that name, wJiile they are really to be numbered amonj* the arheifts. 1 have before expreifed my rcafont, why I cannot embrace this opinion. It is true, indeed, that mo.t of the deift* maintain a parti cular friendship with the atheifts, are pleafed with their loofe and impious con variation, and appear very tender of their credit and efteem. They arc charitable in crying up their fhining qualities, and in concealing, exculiug, or leflening, their immor al actions; while at the fame time they fhow an, affectation in expofing the faults and follies of the Chriftians, efpscially thofe who are the moft ftridt and regular in their manners, and appear to be moft in earneft. It is likewife remarkable, that thefe gentlemen exprefs no zeal for the extirpation of irreligious principles : they have never, as far as I know, written any thing againft them; nor are they pleafed in company to declare their de- teftation of fuch impious maxims, or to produce arguments to confute them ; while at the fame time they take great pains, and Ihow a warm zeal, to weaken the belief of the Chriftian religion, and to expole the pretended errors of its different pro- feffors ; which feems, indeed, ftrange, fince he that owns a God and his providence, (hould in reafon, look tipou thole why Inlieve neither to be infinitely PP

594

THE WORKS OF CONGREVE.

i>nore oppofite'to htni, than thofe who agree with bim in the belief of a God, and differ only in the point of revealed religion.

Befides, it is obfervable that the prefent deifts have not drawn and publiihcd any fcheme of re ligion, QF catalogues of the duties they are obliged to perform, or whence fuch obligations arife. They do not tell us, that they look on man as an accountable creature ; nor, if they do, for what, and to whom, or when, that account is to be nvdde, and what rewards and punifhments will at tend it. I do not affirm they have no fuch fcheme in their thoughts ; but, fince they will not let us know their creed, and in the mean time deride and triumph over that of the Chriftians, I cannot defend them from thofe who fay they are juftly to be fufpedled.

And that the deift may clear himfelf from the fufpicion of being an atheift, or at leaft a friend and favourer of their principles; I could wifh he would in public affert and demonftrate the being of a God and his providence, and declar? his ab horrence of the principles of thofe who difbelieve them. v.*

It would likewife give gn-at fatisfadlion, and remove the objodtions of th< fc that charge them with direct irreligion, if they would plcafe to give fome accoont of their belief : Whether they look upon God as one who governs mankind by laws to be difcovered by the light of reafou, which re- ilrain our inclinations and determine our duty ; that they would tell us -what thofe laws are, and \vhat fandlions do enforce them ; and until this be done, they 'cannot well difcharge themfelves from the fufpicion before-mentioned.

And here I would addrefs myfelf to the irreli gious gentlemen of the age : and I defue them nut to take up prejudices againft the exiftence of a God, and run away with impious maxims, until they have exercifed tbeir confideration, and made an impartial inquiry into the grounds and reafons that fupport the" belief of a Divine Eternal Being. In order to fuch a reafonable examination, it is but jufl and decent they mould be in earneft, and hear the arguments vye offer with temper and pa tience ; that they ihould inure themfeives to think, and weigh the force of thofe arguments, as be comes fincere inquirers after truth. The being of a .God, and the duties that refult from that prin ciple, are fubje<5bs of the greateft excellence and dignity in themfelves, and of the greateft concern and importance to mankind ; and, therefore, fhould never be treated in mirth and ridicule. Generals of armies and counsellors of ftate, fenators, and judges, in the great .and weighty affairs that come before them, do not put n the air of jefters and buffoons, and, inftead of grave and folemn debate?,, aim at nothing but failies of wit, and treat their fubjecls and one another only with raillery and derifion :.yet the bufmefs propofed to the confi- dcraticn of the perfons 1 fpeak to is, in every re- fpecl:, infinitely fuperior to any of theirs bcfore- inentioned.

Ae they furc there is no God, and therefore no

Religion ? If they are not, what a ternbk lifque do

I

they run ! If their reafons amount only to a pro* bability, the contrary opinion may be true, and that may be is enough to give them the moft frightful apprehenfions, and didurb them amid 't all the pleafures they enjoy. But if they fay they are allured, and paft doubt, there is no God ; let them confider, confidence in an opinion is not al ways the effecV of certainty and demonftration. Their prcdeceffors, the atheifU of former ages, were as certain, that is, as confident, they reafoned right, as they can be. They cannot pretend to clearer light, and greater affurance of the truth of their maxims, than Epicurus and Lucretius did ; or infult their adverfaries with greater contempt than thofe have done : yet thefe men themfelve?, at leaft many of them, allow thofe philofophers were grofsly miftaken, and will by no means truft to the Epicurean fcheme, as the foundation of their opinions. If thefe great matters, notwithftanding their unexampled confidence, have been miftaken, why may not their fucceffors be fo ?

If they fet up Ariftotle's fcheme, and think they fecure their principles by making the world to be eternal, and all effe& and events the refult of fuch a fatal neceffity, and an indiffoluble concatenation of caufes, as render it impoffible, that things that are mould not be, or that they fhould be other- wife than they are ; let them confider, that the greateft affertors of impiety, I mean Democritus, Leucippus, Epicurus, and Lucretius, oppofed this as an idle and incoherent fyftem ; and that indeed it is fo, fhall be after demonftrated : and fhould not this fhake their confidence, that all their friends in the Epicurean fchools, who were fuffi- ciently delivered from the prejudices of education and fuperftitious imprefftons, could not fee the leaft probability in the fcheme of the Fatalifts, on which thefe gentlemen are pleafed to rely in a. matter of the higheft importance ?

Will they confide in Mr. Hobbes ? has that phi- lofopher faid any thing new ? does he bring any ftronger forces into the field than the Epicureans did before him ? will they derive their certainty from Spinofa ? can fuch an bfcure, perplexed, un intelligible author create fuch certainty, as leaves no doubt or diftnrft ? If he is indeed to be under- ftood, what does he allege more than the ancient Fatalifts have done, that fhould amount to demon ftration \

Befides, if, as they pretend, they are eftablifhed beyond pofiibility of deception in the truth of their maxims, why are they fo very fond of thofe au thors, that let up any new doctrine ? and why do they embrace with fo much pieafure their new fchemes of irreligion ? They are very glad to hear of any great ' genius, that can invent frefti argu ments to ftrengjben their opinions ; and does not this betray a fecret diffidence, that demands fur ther light and confirmation ?

But further; fince thefe gentlemen fhow fo much induftry in propagating their opinions, and are fo fond of making prolelytes to atheifm ; fince they affe<5r. a zeal in countenancing, applauding, and preferring, thofe whom they have delivered from religitus prejudices, and reformed and ^-

PREFACE.

fined with their free, large, and generous princi ples; how comes it to pafs, that they neglect to inform and improve their neareft relations? Are they careful to hr'ruct their wives and daughters, that they need n^t revere the imaginary phantom of a God ; that religion is the creature of a timor ous and fuperftitious mind, or of crafty priefts, and cunning politicians ; that, therefore, they arc free from ail reftraints of virtue and confidence, and may proftitute their perfuns in the mod licen tious manner, without any remorfe, or uneafy re flection ; that it is idle to fear any. divine punilh- ment hereafter ; and as to the fhame and diuV>nour that may attend the liberties they take, in cafe they become public, that fcandal proceeds from the grofs mifta ; .es of people perverted with reli gion, and mhguided by a belief of a Divine Being, and of rewards and punifhments in an imaginary life after this

Do they take pains to inform their eldeft fons, that they owe them no gratitude or obedience ; that they may ufe an uncontrolled freedom in in dulging all their appetites, paffions, and inclina tions ; that, if they are willing to poffefs their fa ther's honour and eftate, they may, by poifon or the poignafd, take away his life : and, if they are careiul to avoid the punifhment of the magiftrate, by their fecret conduct, they may be fully fatis- fied of the innocence of the action ; and as they have done themfeives much good, fo they have done their father no injury, and therefore may enjoy in perfect tranquillity the fruits of their parricide ? Whatever they may affirm among their loofe friends, 1 cannot conceive they can be guilty of fo much f .lly, as to propagate thefe opinions in their own families, and inftruct their wives and children in the boundkfs liberties, which, by the -principle* of atheifm, are their undoubted right ; for in all actions, where religion does not inrer- pofc and reftrain us, we arc perfectly, as has been faid, free to ad; as we think bed for our profit and pleafure.

Befides, to what a deplorable condition would mankind be reduced, fhould thefe opinions be uni- verfally embraced ! If fo many kings and jrotcn- tates, who yet profefs their belief of a God, and of rewards and punifhments in a life to come, do notwithflanding, from boundlefs ambition and a cruel temper, opprtfs their fubje&s at hoaie, and ravage and deftroy their neighbours abroad, fhould think themfeives free from all divine obligations, and therefore too from the reftraints of oaths and folemn contracts; thefe fences and fecurities re moved, what a deluge of calamities would break in upon the world. what, opprtffion, what vi - lence, what rapine, whaf devaluation, would finifh the ruin of human nature! f r, if mighty p:incts , arc fatisfied that ft is imtoflible for them to do ' any wtong, what bounds are left to infatiable. avarice and exorbitant thirft of power' if mo-' narch> may, wi'hout che lead guilt, violate their treaties, break their vows, betray their friends, and facrificc their truth and honour at pleature to

their paffions, or their intereft, what trufl, what confidence, d>uld be fupported between neighbour potentates! and without this what confufion and diffraction muft of ncceffity enfue !

On the other hand, if fubjcts were univerfally atheiils, and looked on themfeives as under no divine obligation to pay any du',y or obedience to the fupreme magiftrate ; if they believed that, when they took their oaths o/ allegiance, they fwore by nothing, and invocated a power not in being ; that therefore thofe oaths oblige them no longer than they think it fafe, and for thtir inte- reft, to break them ; fliould fuch principles obtain, would not the throne* of princes be moft precari ous would not ambition, revenge, refentmcnt, or intereft continually excite fume or other to betray or affault the lives of their fovereigns ? and why mould they be biamed by the atheift for doing it ? why are traitors, aflaffins, haters rf their princes, and enemies to ther counrry, branded with the odious names of ruffiai.s and villains,- if they lie. under no obligations, to act other wile than they do ?

Should confpirators, who affaffinate their lawful fovereign, have the good fortune to make their efcape, I afk the atheift, if he has in ths Jeaft an ill opinion of theri f r being engaged in f'.ich an. execrable undertaking? If he fays he ha.; not, then the point is gained, and an atheift i- what J. have nprefented. If he lays ha has, I iu j xt afk him, why ? Let him tell me in what their guilt confifts? Is ir in the breach of any divine l.uv ? That csnnot be, for he owns none. Is it th > tranf- gn.ffion of any human law ? Tell n\e what bMiga- tioii he is under to obey any human lavvj" if no divine law enforces fuch obedience. Does their guilt confiil in the breach of their duty NFiheir prince and their oaths of allegiance ? Stil! the fame queftion recurs, what duty can a fubject owe to a prince which divine laws do not conftifute and determine ? and how can an oath of allegiance bind but by virtue of fo;ne divine command, that obliges Us not to vi ,late our vows?

By thi- it appears that an atheift muft be the, worll of fubjects ; that his principles fubvei t the thrones of princes, and undermine the foundations of government and fociety, on which the happi- nefs of mankind fo much depends; and therefore it is not poffible to conceive how there can be a greater diftutber of the public peace, or a greater enemy to his prince and country, than a profcffed athei, who propagates with zeal his deilrudive

opinions.

I have proved, in the following poem, that no hypothecs hitherto invented in favour of impiety has the leaft ftrength or foliditv, no not the leaft appearance of truth to recommend it. A man muft be deferted of Heaven, and inflexibly har dened, that cannot, or rati.er will not, fee the un- reafonablenefs of irreligious principles. I demand only a candid te.v.per in the reader, and a mind, pleated w.th trutn, and delivered from the preju dices of atheiflical convex i'.ition, Ppij

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

r

A SUMMARY ACCOUNT OF THE FpLLOWING ]?pEM,

AND OF WHAT 15 CONTAINED IN EACH BOOK.

THE defign of this work is to demonftrate the exlftencc of a Divine Eternal Mind.

The arguments ufed for' this end are taken from the various marks of wifdcm and artful contri vance, which are evident to obfervaticn in the fe- veral parts of the material world, and the 'faculties t>f the human foul.

The firfi book contains the proof of a Deity, from the inftances of defign and -choice, which occur ia the ftru<5ture and qualities of the earth y.nd fea.

'' The fecond purfues the proof of the fame pro- pofition; THEUE is A GOD, from-thc celeftial mo tions, and more fully from the appearances in the Solax fyftem, and the air. . . >.*.-

- In the third, the objections which are brought fcy atheiftical philofophers againft the hypothecs in the two preceding books, are an-

^^ the fourth, is laid down the hypothecs of the Atomifts or Epicureans, and other irreligious philofophers, and' confuted. .

In the fifth, the doctrine of the Fatalifts, or Ari- ftotelians, v/ha make the world to be eternal, is confidered and fuhverted.

In the fixth, the argument of the two firft books is refumed, and the; exiftence'of God demonftrated from the prudence and art difcovered in the feve- ral pans of the body of man.

In the feveiith, the fame deraonftration is car ried on from the contemplation of the inftind? in brute animals, and the faculties and operation* of the foul of man. .

The book concludes with a recapitulation of what has been treated of, and a 'hymn to lh.3 Creator of the World. < . .:

CREATION.

BOOK I.

'Tli Argument.

The proportion. The invocation. The exigence of a God demonftrated, from the marts of wlf~ dom, choice, and art, which appear in the vifible world, and infer an intelligent and free caufe. This evinced from the contemplation, I. of the earth. I. Its filiation, a. The cohefion of icd parts, not to be folved hy any nypothcfis yet prodyced. 3. Its {lability. 4. Its ftructure, or the order of its parts. 5. Its motion diurnal and annual, or elfe the motion of the fun in both thofs refpect*. The caufe of thefe motions not yet accounted for by any philofophor. 6. Its outfide or face ; the beauties and conveniencie* of it ; its mountains, lakes, and rivers. If. The exiftence of a God proved from the marks and impreflions of prudence and defign, which appear in the fea. I Iti

its formation, a. The proportion of its part* in refpect ofc, the earthy. 3. Its fituation. contexture of its parts. 5. Its brackifh or briny quality. 6. Its flux and reflux.

4. Tha

harms*, lain, -J ("wain, f of the I

No more of courts, of triumphs, or of arms, fao more of valour's force, or beauty *s ( charms*, The themes, of vulgar lays, with julk difdain, I leave unfung, the flocks, the amorous fwain The pleafures of the land, and terrors

main.

How abject, how inglorious 'tis to lie. : ... Grovelling in duit and darknefs, when ion high Empires immenfe, and rolling worlds of light, To range fteir heavenly frenes, the mufe mvite! 1 meditate tofoar above the ikies, To heights unknown, through ways entry 'd to

rife:

I would th' Eternal from hU works aflert, And finjj the wonders of creating art. . While I this unexampled talk efiay, Pafs awful gulfs, and beat my painful way; <>leftial Dove! divine afllftance bring, $!iftain me on thy ftrong-extended wing, That I may reach th' Almighty's facred throne, And make his caufeltfs power, the caufc of all

things known.

Thoudo'l the full extent of nature fee, And the wide realms of vafl immenfity : Eternal Wifdom thou doft comprehend, Rife to her heights, and to her depths defcend : The Father's facred counfels thou canft tell, "Who in his bofom didll for ever dwell. Thou on the deep's dark face, immorcal (Jove 1 Thou with Almighty energy did ft move On the wild waves, incumbent didll difplay Thy genial wings, and hatch primeval day. Order from thec, from thee diilinwlion came, And all the beauties of the wond'rous frame. Hence fcampt on nature we perfection tcdj fair a th' idvain tii Eternal Mind.

Sec, through this vaft extended theatre Of (kill divine what fhining marks appear ! Creating power is all around expreft, The God difcover'd, and his care confeft. Nature's high birth her heavenly beauties fhow*; By every feature we the parent knoW. Th' expanded fpheres, amazing to the fight ! Magnificent with ftars and globes of light, The glorious orbs, which heaven's bright ho$

compofe,

Th* imprifon'd fc-a, tha? reftlefs ebbs and flow's, The fluctuating fields of liquid air, With all the curious meteors hovering there, And the wide regions of the land, proclaim The Power Divine, thatrais'd the mighty frame.' . What things foe'er are to an end referr'd, And in-lheir motions Hill that end regard, Always the fitnefs of the means refped, Thefe as conducive choofe, and thofe reject, Muft by a judgment foreign and unknown Be guided to their end, or by their own ; For to defign an end, and to purfue That end by means, and have it ftill in view,- Demands a qonfcioun, wife, reflecting caufe, Which freely moves, and acts by rcafon'a laws; That can deliberate, means elect, and find Their due connection with the end defign'd. And Cncc the world's wide frame docs not include A caufe with fuch capacities endued; Some other caufe o'er nature muft prefide, Which gave her birth, and does her motions guide. And here behold the caufe, which God \ve name, The fource of beings, and the mindfupreme; Whole perfect wifdorn, and whofe prudent Care, With one confederate voice unnumbef'd worlds

THE WORKS OF BLACK MORE.

See, how the earth has gain'd that very place, "Which of all others in the boundlefs fpace, Is moft convenient, and will heft conduce To the wife ends requir'd for nature's ufe. You, who the Mind and Caufe Supreme deny, lJof oft his aid to form the world rely, jVIufr. grant, had perfect wifdom heen employ'd To find, through all th' interminable void, A feat m< ft proper, and which beft became The earth and fea, it muft have keen the fame.

Now who can this furprifing fad conceive, Who this event fortuitous believe-, That the brute earth, unguided, ihould embrace") The oniy ufrful, only proper place Of all rhe millions in the empty fpace ? j

Cou'd ftupid atoms with impetuous fpeed 33y di r i*:ent roads and adveife ways proceed; 3*rom regions opptofite begin their flight, That here they might rencounter, here unite ? "\Vhat charms could thefe terreftrial vagrants fee In this one point of all immenfity, That all th' enamour'd troops fhould thither flow ? Did they its ufeful fituation know ? And, when the fquadrons with a fwift career ~J Had reach'd that point, why did they fettle/ .there, ,[nfair;f

"When nothing check'd their flight but gulfsj Since Epicurus and his fcholars fay ")

That uuobftru&ed matter flies away, >

Ranges the void, arid knows not where to flay ? j If you, fagacious fons of art, pretend ~\

That by their native force they did defcend, / And cea.^'d to move, when they had gain'df their end ; j

That native force -till you enlighten'd know, Can its myfterious fpring difclofe, and fliovr Hw 'tis exerted, how it does impel, Your unir.ftru&ive words no doubts difpe.l. We aik you, whence does motive vigour flow ? You.- fay, the nature of the thing is fo. 33ut how does this relieve th' inquirer's, pain ? Or how the dark impullive power explain ?

The Atormfts, who fluil mechanic teach, "VVbo boaft their clearer fight, and deeper reach," Aflert their atoms took that hapj.y feat, Determin'd thither by their inbred weight; That downward- through the fpacious void they

ft rove

To that one point, from all the parts above. Grant this .pofition true, though up and down Are to a fpace not limited unknown ; But fince they fay our earth from morn to morn On its own axis is oblig'd to turn ; That fwift rotation muft difperfe in air All things, which on the rapid orb appear : And if no power that motion fhould controul, It muft disjoint and di.ilipatc the whole. Bodies orbicular, 'when .whirling round, Still fhake off all things on their furface plac'd, And to a diftance from the centre cait.
 * Tis by experience wicontefted found.

If pomleious atoms are fo much in love With this one point, that all will thither mov~, Give them the ikuati n .they .defire; iSut let us rhen, yc fages next

What caufe of their cchefion can you find ; What props fupport, what chains the fabric bind I Why do not beads that move, or (tones that lie Loofe on the field, through diftant regions fly? Or why do fragments, from a mountain rent, Tend to the earth with fuch a fwift defcent ?

Thofe who afcribe this one determin'd covrfe Of ponderous things to gravitating force, Refer us to a quality occult, To fenfelefs wards, for which while they infult With juft contempt the famous .itagyrite, / Their fchools fhouid blefs the world with clearer

light.

Some, che round earth's cohefion to fecure,. For that hard tafk employ magnetic power. Remark, fay they, the globe ; with wonder own Its nature, like the fam'd attractive ftone. This has its axis, fo th' obferver tells, Meridians, pole-, asquator, parallels. To the terreftrial poles by conftant fate Th' obfequious poles themfelves accommodate, And, when of this pofition difpoffeft, They move, and ftrive, nor ever will they reft, Till their lov'd lituation they regain, Where plcas'd they fettle, and unmov'd remain. And fhould you, fo experience does decide, Into fmall parts the wondrous ftone divide, Ten thoufand of minuteft fize exprefs The fame propenfion, which the large poffefs. Hence all the glebe ('tis faid) we may conclude With this prevailing energy endued r That this attractive, this furprifirg ftone Has no peculiar virtue of its own ; Nothing but what is common to the whole, To fzdes, to axis, and to either pole.

The mighty magnet from the centre darts This ftrong, though fubtle force, through aii the

parts ;

Its active rays, ejaculated thence, Irradiate all the wide circumference. While every part is in proportion bleft, And of its due attractive power poffeft ; Whiie adverfe ways the adverfe atoms draw With the fame ftrength, by nature's conftant law Balanc'd and fix'd; they can no longer move ; Through gulfs immenfe no more unguided rove. If cords are pull'd two adverfe ways, we fird The more we draw them, they the fafter bind, ijo when with equal vigour nature ftrains This way and that theic fine mechanic chains, They fix the earth, they part to part uni-e, Prefcrve their ftru6lure, and prevent their flight, Preffure, .they fay, and weight, we muft difown, As things occulr, by no ideas kn<"wn, And on the earth',* magnetic power depend, I'o fix its fear, its union to defend.

Let us this ram'd hypothcfis f rvey, "^

And with attentive thought remark the way, > H.-.w earth's attractive parts their force difplay. j The mafs, 'tis faid, from its wide hofom pours Torrents of atoms, and eternal fhowers Of fine magnetic darts, of matter made So fubtle, marble they with cafe pervade : Refin'd, and (next to incorporeal) thin. Not by Aufonian glaffes to be feen.

c R E A- T i o N;

"' I

line? j

thefe emanations take their ccnflant flight Swift from the earth, as from the fun the light; To a determin'd diftance they afcend, And there inflecSb their courfe, and downward tend.

What can infult unequal reafon more, Than this magnetic, this myfterious power ? That cords and chains, beyond conception fmall, Should gird and bind fo faft this mighty bail ! That a.dtive rays fhould fpring from every part, And, though f<> fubtle, fhould fuch force exert 1 That the light legions fhould be fcnt abroad, Range all the air, and travcrfe every road ! To ftated limits fhould excuriions make, Then backward of thefnfelves their journey take ; Should in their way to folid bodies cling, And home to earth the captive matter bring; Where all things on its furtace fpread are bound By their coerfive vigour to the ground ! Can this be done without a Guide Divine ? Should we to this hypothefis incline, Say, dues not here confpitfuous wifdom fhine? Who can enough magnetic force admire ? TJoes it not counfel and defign require To give the earth this wondrous energy, In fuch a meafure, fuch a juft degree, That it fhould ftill perform its deftin'd tafk, As nature's ends and various ufesaflc?

For, fhould our globe have had a greater fbare Of this ftrong force, by which the parts cohere, Things had been bound by fuch a powerful chain, That all would fix'd and motionlcfs remain ; All men, like ftatues, on the earth would ftand. Nor would they move the foot, or ftretch the hand ; Birds would not range the Ikies, nor beafts the

woods,

Nor could the fifh divide the (liffer.'d floods. Again, had this ftrange energy been lefs, Defect had been as fatal as excefs. For want of cement ftrong enough to bind The ftruclure faft, huge ribs of rock, diijoin'd Without an earthquake, from their bale would

ftart,

A r nd hills unhing'd from their deep roots depart. And, while our orb perform'd its daily race, All beings, found upon his ample face, Would, by that motion diflipated, fly Whirl'd from the globe, and fcutter through

the fky :

They muft, obedient to mechanic laws, Aflemble where the ftronger magnet draws; Whether the fun that ftrorigcr magnet proves, Or elfc fome planet's orb that nearer moves.

Who can unfold the caufe that does recall Magnetic rays, and make them backward fall ? If thefe .effluvia, which do upwarci tend, Becaufe lels heavy than the air, alcend ; Why do they ever from their height retreat, And why return to feek thtir central feat? From the fame caufe, ye i\n:s of art, declare Can they by "turns ticfcend, and rife in air ? Prodigious 'tis, that one attractive ray .Should this way bend, the next an adverfe way; For, fhould th' unit-en magnetic jetsdefcend All the fame way, they could not gain their end ;



in, > j

They could not draw and bind the fabric faft, Unlefs alike they every part embrac'cl

How does Cartefius all his finews ftrain, How much he laboursj and how much in vain, The earth's attractive vigour to explain ! This bold contriver thus his thoughts conveys: IncffTant ftreams of thin magnetic rays Gufh from their fountains with impetuous force, In either pole, then take an a.dyerfe courfe : Thofe from the fouthern pole the northern feek ; The fouthern thofe that from the northern break j In either pole thefe rays emitted meet Small poresj>rovided, for their figures fit ; Still t*> and fro they circulating pafs, Hold all the frame, and firmly bind the maR Thus he the parts of earth from flight reftrains, And girds itr faft by fine imagin'd chains.

But oh ! how dark is human reafoiWbund ! How vain the man with wit and learning crown'd * How feeble all his ftrength when he effays Td trace dark Nature, and detect her ways; Unlefs he calls its Author to his aid, Who every fecret fpring of motion laid, Who over all his wondrous works prefides, And to their ufcful ends their caufes guides ! Thefe paths in rain are by inquirers trod ; There's DO philnfophy without a God.

Admir'd Cartefius, let the curious know, If your magnetic atoms always flow From pole to pole, what fcrm'd their double fource, What fpurr'd, what gave them their inflected

courfe ?

Tell, what could drill and perforate the pclrs, And to th' attractive rays adapt their holes ? A race>fo long what prompts them to purfuc ? Have the blind troops th* important end iu view I How are they fure they in the poles ihall meet Pores of a figure to their figure lit ? Are they with fuch fagacity endued To know, if this their, journey be purfucd, They fhall the earth's conftruclure clofe'y bind, And to the ceutre keep the parts confin'd ?

Let us review this whole magnetic fchcme, Till wiler heads a wifer'model frame. For its formation let fit atoms ft;art. To one detcrmin'd point, from ev^ry part. Encountering there from regions oppofite, They clafh, and interrupt each other's flight; And, rendezvoufing with an adverle coarfe, Produce an eqiral poife, by equal force : For while the parts by laws magnetic act, And are at once atttacted, and attract; While match'd in ftrength they keep the doubt-"

ful field,

And neither overcome, and neither yield, To happy purpofe they their vigour i'pend ; For thefe contentions in the balance end, ' Which muft in liquid air the globe fufpend.

Befidcs maf erials which arc brute and blind, Did not this work require a knowing mind, Who for the tafk fhould fie detachments choofe From all the atoms, which their hoft diffufe Through the wide regions of the boundle&

Ipace,

And for thtir rendezvous appoint the place ? P p iiii

THE WORKS OF KLACKMORf.

Who fhould conimand, by his almighty nod, Thefe chi.fen trcop?, unconfcioua of the road, Av.d unacquainted wirh th' appointed end, Their marches to begin, and thither teud ; Direct them all to take the neareft way, Whence none of all th' unnumber'd millions ftray ; Make them advance with fuch an equal pace, "> From all the advrrfe regions of the fpace, (

That they at once fhould reach the deftin'df place; J

f-houtd muftcr there, and rourd the centre (warm, And draw together in a globoas form ?

Gram, that by mutual oppofition made J

0f advcrfe parts, their mutual flight is ftaid ; > That thus the whole is in a balance laid ; j

Does it not all mechanic heads confound, That troops of atoms, from all parts around, Of equal number, and of equal force, Should to this Cngle point direct their eourfe; Thatfb the counter-prcffure every way, ^

Of equal vigour, might their motions flay, And, by a fteady poife, the whole in quiet lay ?j Befides, the ftru&ure of the earth regard : ~* for firmnefs how is all its frame prepar'd ! /

"With what amazing fkill is the vaft building f fear'd ! 3

M^tak arid veins of folid ftone are found The chief materials which the globe compound. See, how the hills, which high in air afcend, From pole to pole their lofty lines extend.

Thefe flrong unfhaken mounds refift the (hocks Of tides and feas tempeftuous, while the rocks, That fecret in a Jong continued vein Pafs through the earth", the pondcWus pile fnftaln : Thefe mighty girders, which the fabric bind,, Thefe ribs robuft and vaft, in order join'd ; Thefe fubterranean walls, difpos'd with art, Such ftrength, and fuch ftability impart, That ftorms above, and earthquakes underground, 1 Break not the pillars, nor th* work confound.

Give to the earth a form orbicular, L,et it be pors'd, and hung in ambient air ; Give it the fituation to the fan Such as is only fit ; when this is dore, Suppofe it flill rema : n'd a lazy heap ; From what we grant, you no advantage reajj. You either muft the earth from rell diHurb, Or roll around the heavens the fo!ar orb. Jilfe what a dreadful face will nature wear ! How horrid wifl thefc lonefome feats- appear f  fwiftly round the fun or earth i Yet, learned heads, by v.'hat mechanic laws Will you of either orb this motion caufe ? Why do they move? why in a circle? why With- &ch a mcafui-e oi" velocity?

Say, why the earth if not the earth, the fun Does through his winding road the zodiac' run? Why do revolving orbs their tracks fublime- So conftant keep-, that fmce the birth of time They never vary'd their accuftom'd place, Nor loft a minute in fo long a race ? But hold ! perhaps I ruddy prefs too far ; You are not vers'd in reafoning fo fevere. To a fvrft queflion your reply's at hand ; Afk but a fecond, and you fpecchlefs" ftand. You fwim at top, and on the furfact? ftrive,* But to the depths of nature never dive : For if you did, inftructed you'd explore Divine contrivance, and a God adore. Yet fns of art one curious piece dcvife, From wliofe conftructure motion fhall arile. Machines, to all philofophers 'tis known, Move by a foreign impulfe, not their own. Then let Gaffendus choofe what frame he plea/e, By which to turn the heavenly orba with eafe ; Thofe orbs muft reft, till by th' exerted force Of feme firft mover they begin their eourfe : Mere dHfpofition, mere mechanic art, C T an never motiofl to the globes impart ; And, if they could, the marks of wife defigti In that contrivance would xonfpicuous fhine. Thefe queftions flill recur : we itill demand, What moves them firft, and puts them oflfat hand f What makes them this we way their race diredfc, ") While they a thoufand other ways reje& ? ^

Why do they never onee their eourfe infie<9: ? J) Why do they roll with fuch an equal pace, AM to a moment ftill perform their race ! Why earth or fun diurnal ftages keep ? In fpiral traek-s why through the zodiac creep ? Who can account for this, unleis they fay Thefe orbs th' Eternal Mind's command obey^ Who bad the'm move, did all their motions guide, To each its deftin'd province did divide ; Which to complete, he gave them motive power, That fhall, as long as he does will, endure ?

Thys we the fram* of nature have expreft; Now view the earth in finifh'd beauty dreft ; The various fccnes, which various charms difpFay, Through all th' extended theatre furvey.

See how fublime th* uplifted mountains rife, And wirh their pointed heads invade the fkies ! How the high cliffs their craggy arms extend, Diftingmfh ftates, and fever'd realms defend 1 How ambient fhores confine the reftiefs deep, And in their ancient? bounds tlie billows keep J The hollow vales their fmiling pride unfold ^ What rixrh abundance do their bofoms hold ! Regard their lovely verdure, ravifh'd view The party-colour'd fitowers of various hue. Not eaftern monarchs, on their nuptial day,- In dazzling gold and purple fhine fo gay As the bright natives of th' unlabcur'd field, Uaverb'd hi fpinnirg, and in looms urfkill'd. See, how the ripening fruits the gardens crown, Imbibe the fun, and make his light their own ! See the fvveet brooks in filvcr mazes creep, hnrich the meadows, and fupply the deep ; While from their weeping urns the fountains flow, And vital moifture, where ifcsy pafc,

CREATION.

narrow dream, and fpreading like, The proud afpinng grovs, and humble brake : How do the forefts and the woods delight ! How the fwr.et glades and openings charm the fight! Obferve the pkafant lawn and airy plain, The fertile furrows rich with various prain ; How ufeful all ! how all confpire So grace Th' extended earth, and beautify her face !

Now, fee, with how much art thr parts are made? With how much wifdom are the ftrata laid, Of different weight, and of a different kind, Of ftmdry forma, for funory ends dtfign'd ! Here in their beds the finifti'd minerals reft, There the rich vrombs the feeds of gold digeft. Here in fit moulds, to Indian nations known, Are caft the feveral kinds of precious itonc ; The diamond here, by mighty monarch* worn, Fair as the ftar that beauti lies the morn ; And.fplendid by the fun's embody'd ray, The rubies there their crimfon light difplay ; There marble's various colour'd veins are fpread; Here of bitumen unuous ftores are bred. What fkill on all its furface is beitow'd, To make the earth for man a fit abode ! The upper moulds, with adive fpirits ftor r d, And rich in verdant progeny, afford The flowery pafture, and the fhady wood, To men their phyfic, and to beafts their food.

Proceed ytt farther, and a profpedt take Of the fwift ftrram. and of the ftanding lake. Had not the deep been form'd, that might contain All the colle&ed treafurei of the main, The earth had ftill o'erwhelm'd with water flood, To man an uninhabitable flood. Yet had not part as kindly ftaid behind, In the wide citterns of the lakes confin'd ; Did not the fprings- and rivers drench the land, Our globe would grow a wildernefs of fand ; The plants and groves, the fame and favage beaft, And man, their lord, would die with drought c-p-

preft.

Now, as you fee, the floating element art loofe in ftreams, part in the ocean pent, So wifely is difpos'd, as may conduce To man's delight, or ncceffary ufe.

See how the mountains in the mid.l divide The nobleft regions, that from either fide The ftreams, which to the hills their currents") owe, f

May every way along the valley flow, And verdant wealth on all the foil beftow ! So Atlas and the mountains of the moon, From north to fouth, in lofty ridges run Through Afric realms, whence falling waters lave Th' inferior regions with a winding wave. They various rivers give to various foil, Niger to Guinea, and to ./Egypt Nile. So from the towering Alps on different fides, Diffolving fnows defccnd in numerous tides, Which in the vale beneath their parties join To form the Rhone, the Danube, and the Rhine. So Caucafius, afpiring Taurus fo, And fam'd Inuiis, ever white wiih fnow, Through eaftern climes their lofty lines extend, " rtii; and that way ample currents fend,

A thonfartd rivers make their ereoked way, And difembogue their floods into the fea ; Whence fhould they ne'er hy focret roads retire And to the hills, from whence they came, afpirc They by their conftant frreams would fo increafst The watery ftores, and raife fo high the feas, That the wide hollflw would not long contain Th' unequal treafures of the fwelling main ; Scorning the mounds which now its tide withftatwf,' The fta would pafs the f!iores,and drown the land.

Tell, by what paths, what fubterranean ways,"} * Back to the fountain's head the lea conveys > The refluent rivers, and the land repays ? }

Tcl^what fuperior, what controlling caqfe Makes waters, in contempt of nature's laws, Ciimb u]>, and pain th' afpiring mountains height, Swift and forgetful of their native weight ? What happy works, what engines under-ground What inftruments of curious art are found, Which mutt with eve/laftmg labour play, Back to their fprings the rivers to convey, And keep their correfpondence wich the fea ?

Perhaps you'll fay, their dreams the rivers ow In part to rain, in part to melting fnow; And that th* attracted watery vapours rife From lakes and feas, and fill the lower Ikies : Thefe when condens'd the airy region pours On the dry earth in rain, or gentle fhowers 5 Th'mfinuating drops fink through the fand, And t.afs the porous ftrainers of the land ; Which frelh fupplies of watery riches brinj? To every river's head, to ach exhaufted fpringj The ftreams are thus, their lofles to repair. Back to their fourcc tranfmitted to the air; The waters ftill their circling courfe maintain, Flow down in rivers, and return in rain ; And on the foil with heat immoderate dry'd, To which the rain's pure treafures are dcny'd. The mountains more fublime in aether rife, Transfix the clouds, and tower amic. he fkiet;, The fnowy fleeces, which their heads involve, Still ftay in part, and ftill in part diffolve; Torrents and loud impetuous cataradh Through roads abrupt, and rude unfafhirnM tra&s^ Roll down the lofty mountain's channoll'd fides, And to the vale convey their foaming tides; At length, to make their various currents one, The congregated floods {ogether run ; [heai,

Thcfe coniluent fir earns make forae great river's By ftores ftill melting and defcending fed ; Thus from th* afpiring mountains of the moon Diffblving treafures ruih in torrents down, Which pafs the fun-burnt realms and fandy foil. And blefs th' Egyptian nation with their Nile; Then whafoe'er his fecret rife would know, Muft clirnb the hills, and trace his head in fnow;- And through the Rhine, the Danube, and the)

Rhone,

Ail ample rivers of our milder 2one, While they advance along the flats and plains, Spread by the (bowers augmented, and the rainj ; Yet thefc their i'ource and firft beginning owe To ftores, that from the Alpine mountains flow; Hence, when the fuows in winter ceafe to weep, Acd undifiblv'd their flaky texture keep,

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

The jbanks with cafe their humble firearm con tain,

Which fwell in fummer, and thofe banks difdain. Be this account allnw'd, fay, do not here Th' impreffions of confummate art appear ?

In every ipacious realm a rifing ground, Obfervers tell, is in the middle found ; That all the ftream>, \vhich flow from either fide, 3VIay 'hrough the valleys unobftructed glide. What*various kingdoms does the Danube lave, Before the Euxine fea receives its wave ! How many nations of the fun-burnt foil Fam'd Nrger blefs ! how many drink the Nile ! Through what vaft regions near the rifing fun Does Indus, Ganges, and Hydafpes, run! What happy empires, wide Euphrates, teem, And pregnant grow by thy prolific ftream ! How many fpaci<*us countries does the Rhine, In winding banks, and mazes ferpentine, Traverfe, before he fplits in Belgia's plain, And loft in fand creeps to the German main ! Floods which through Indian realms their courfe

purfue,

That Mexico enrich, and wafh Peru, With their unwearied ftreams yet farther pafs, Before they reach the fea, and end their race. And ftnce the rivers and the floods demand, For their defcent, a prone and finking land, Bocs not this due declivity declare A wife director's providential care ?

See, how the ftreams advancing to the main Through crooked channels draw their, cryftal train! While lingering thus they in meanders glide, They fcatter verdant life on either fide. The, valleys fmile, and with their flowery face And wealthy births confefs the floods embrace. But this great blefling would in part be loft, Nor would the meads their blooming plenty boaft; Did unchtck'd rivers draw their fluid train In Jines direct, and rapid feek the main.

The fea does next demand our view ; and there No lefs the marks of perfect {kill appear. When firft the atoms to the congrefs came, And by their concourle form'd the mighty frame, What did the liquid to th' affcmbly call, Vo give their aid to form the ponderous ball ? Firft, ttll us, why did any come ? next, why Infuch a difproportion to the dry ? Why were the moift in number fo outdone, That to a thoufand dry, they are but one ? When they united, and together clung, When undiftinguiftx'd in one heap they hung, How was the union broke, the knot unty'd ? What did th' entangled elements divide ? Why did the moift disjoin'd, without refpect To their lefs weight, the low eft feat elect ? Could they dilpenfe to lie below the land, With nature's law, and unrepeal'd command ; Which gives to lighter things the greateft height, And feats inferior to fuperir weight ? Did they forefee, unlels they lay io low, "~)

The reftiel's flood the land would overflow, > By which the dclug'd earth would uielefs grow ? j What r but a confcious agent, could provide The fpacious hollow, where the waves rcfide ?

Where, barr'd with rock, and fenc'd with hills, ths?

deep

Does in its womb the floating treafures keep ; And all the raging regiments reftrain In ftated limits, that the fwelling main May not in triumph o'er the frontier ride, And through the land licentious fpread its tide? What other caufe the frame could fo contrive, That, when tempeftueus winds the ocean drive, They cannot break the tye, nor difunite The waves which roll connected in their flight ? Their bands, though? flack, no diffolutirtn fear, ~) Th' unfever'd parts the greateft preflure bear, C Though loofe, and fit to flow, they ftill cohere, j This apt, this wife contexture of the fea, Makes it the (hips driv'n by the winds obey ; Whence hardy merchants fail from fhore to fhore, Brrng Indian fpices home, and Guinea's ore.

When you wir h liquid ftores have filPd the deep, What does the flood from putrefa&ion keep ? Should it lie ftagnant in its ample feat, The fun would through it fpread destructive heat. The wife Contriver, on his end intent, Careful this fatal error to prevent,. And keep the waters from corruption free, Mixt them with fait, and feafon'd all the fea. What other caufe could this effect produce ? The brackifli tincture through the main diffufe I You, who to folar beams this talk affign, To fcald the waves, and turn the tide to brine, Reflect, that all the fluid ftores, which fleep In the remoteft caverns of the deep, Have of the briny force a greater ihare Than thofe above, that meet the ambient air. Others, but oh how much in vain ! erect Mountains of fait, the ocean to infect. Who, vers'd in nature, can defcribe the land, Or fix the place on which thofe mountains ftand ? Why have thofe rocks fo long unwafted ftood, Since, laviflv of their ftock, they through the flood Have, ages paft, their melting cryftal Ipread, And with their fpoils the liquid regions fed ?

Yet more, the wife Contriver did provide, "} To keep the lea from ftagnating, the tide ; Which now we fee advance, and now fubfide. j If you exclude this great Directing Mind, Declare -what caufe of this effect you find. You who this globe round its own axis drive, From that rotarion this event derive : You fay, the fea, which with unequal pace Attends the earth in this its rapid race. Does with its waves fall backward to the weft, And, thence repell'd, advances to the eaft : While this revolving motion does endure, The deep muft reel, and rufh from more to fhore S Thus to the fetting, and the rifing fun, Alternate tides in ftated order run. Th' experiments you bring us, to explain This notion, are impertinent and vain : An orb or ball round its own axi* whirl, Will not the motion to a diftance huri, Whatever duft or fand you on it phce, And drops of water from its convex face * If this rotation does the feas affect, The rapid motion rather would

CREATION*.

The ftores the low capacious caves contain, And from its ample bafon caft the main ; Aloft in air would make the ocean fly, And dafh its fcatter'd waves againft the iky.

If you, to folve th' appearance, have refourfe To the bright fun's or moon's impulfive force; Do you, who call for demonftration, tell Howdiftant orbs th' obedient flood impel ? This ftrong myfterious influence explain, By which, to i'well the waves, they prefs the main. But if you choofe magnetic power, and fay Thofe bodies by attraction move the lea ; Till with new light you make this fecret known, And tell us how 'tis by attra&ion done, You leave the mind in darknefs ftill involvM, Nor have you, like philofophers, refolv'd The doubts, which we to reafoning men refer, But with a cant of words abufe the ear.

Thofe who affert the lunar orb prefidet O'er humid bodies, and the ocean guides ; Whofe waves obfcquious ebb, orfwelling run, With the declining or increafing moon ; With i eafon fcem her empire to maintain, As miftrefs of the rivers and the main- Perhaps her active influences caufe Th* alternate flood, and give the billow laws;

The waters feem her orders to obey\ And ebb and flow, determin'd by her fway.

Grant that the deep this foreign fovereign owHS f That mov'd by her it this and that way runs : Say, by what force fhe makes the ocean fvvcll; Does fhe attract the waters, orimjiel ? . How does fhe rule the rolling waves, and guide By fixt and conftant laws the reftltfs ride? Why does fhe dart her force to that degree, As gives fo juft a motion to the fea, That it fhould flow no more, no more retire, Than nature's various ufeful ends require ? A Mind Supreme you therefore muft approve, Whofe high coTfcmand caus'd matter firft to

move :

Who ftill prefcrves its courfe, and, with refpe<5l To his wife ends, all motions does diredt. He to the filver moon this province gave, And fixt her empire o'er the briny wave ; Endued her with fuch juft degrees of power, As might his aims and wife defigns procure, Might agitate and work the troubled deep, And rolling waters from corruption keep, But not impel them o'er their bounds of fand, Nor force the wafteful deluge o'er the land.

BOOK II.

The Argument,

The introduction. The numerous and important bleffings of religion. The exiftencc of a God de- monftrated, from fhe wifdom and dcfign which appear in the motions of the heavenly orbs ; but more particularly^ the folar fyftem. I. In the fituation of the fun, and its due diftance from the earth. The fatal confequences of its having been placed atherwiff than it is. II. In its diurnal motion, whence the change of day and night proceeds : then in its annual motion, whence arife the different degrees of heat ^and cold. The confinement of the fun between the tropics, not to be ac counted f>-r by any philosophical hypothtfis. The difficulties of the fame, if the earth moves, and the fun refts. The fp ing of the fun's motion, not to he explained by any irreligious philolophy* The contemplation of the folar light, and the ufes made of it for the end propofed. The appear-, ances in the lolar fyftem not t<> be folved, but by afftrting a God. The fyftems of Ptolemy, Co pernicus, Tycho Brahe, and Kepler, ccnfidered Tbe folar fyftem described, and compared with the fixed ftars, which are fuppofed centres of the like fyftems. Reflections on that comparison. The hypothefis of Epicurus, in relation to the motion of the fun. Wifdom and dcfign difcovcred in the air-; in its ufeful ftruclure, its elafticity, its various meteors; the wind, the rain, thunder, and lightning. A fhort contemplation of the vegetable kind.

CARUS, by hardy Epicurus taught, From Greece to Rome his impious fyftem brought ; Then wni with heaven he did infulting wage, And breath'd againft the gods immortal rage: See, he txcUims, the foufce of all our woe ! Our fears and fufferings from religion flow

We grant, a rrain of nnlchiefs oft proceeds From fnperl'itious rites and penal creeds; But view religion in her native charms, Difporfmg bieflings with indulgent armj

I From her fair eyes what heavenly rays are fpread, What blooming joy? fmile round her blilsfui headi

Offspring divine ; by thee we bkf> the caue, Who iorm'd the world, and rules it by his laws; His independent being we adore, Ex'ol his goodnefs, and revert his power ; Our wondering eyes his high perfections view, The lofty contemplation we purfue, Till ravifh'd we the great idea find, bhinuig in bright impreffions on our mind*

THE WORKS OF BLACKMOkE.

Infpir'd by thee, gueft of celeftial race, With generous love, we human-kind embrace ; We provocations unprovok'd receive, Patient of wrong, and eafy to forgive; Protect the orihan, plead the widow's caufe, Nor deviate from the line unerring juflice draws.

Thy luftre, bleft. effulgence, can difpel The clouds of error, and the gloom of hell; (Can to the foul impart ethereal light, Give life divine and intellectual fight; Before our ravifiVd eyes thy beams difylay The opening fcenes of blifs, and endlcfs day ; By, which incited, we with ardour rife, ijcorn this inferior ball,, and claim the Ikies., -. fywnts to thee a change of nature owe, Diimiis their tortures, and indulgent grovr. Ambitious conquerors in their mad carceiy Check'd by thy voice, lay down the fwordand fpcar. The^ boideft champions of impiety, Scorn ittj of Hea en, fubdu'd or won by thee, Before thy hallow'd altars bend the knee ; Loofe wits, made wife, a public good become, The fons of pride an humble mien affume ; The profligate in morals grows fevere, Defrauders juft, .and fycophants fmcere. . ; .; ;> - .,

With amorous language, and bewitching fmi!es, Attra&ive airs, and all the lover's wiles, The fair Egyptian Jacob's fon carefs'd, Hung on his neckband languifh'd on hisbreaft ; Courted with freedom now the beauteous fiave, Now flattering fued, and threatening now did rave ; But not the various eloquence of love, fctor power enrag'd, could his fix'd virtue movei See, aw'd by Heaven, the blooming Hebrew flies Her artful tongue, and more perfuafive eyes ; And, fpringing from her difappointed arms, Prefers a dungeon to forbidden charms.

Stedfaft in virtue's and his country's caufe, Th' illuftrious founder of the JewHh laws, "Who, taught by Heaven, at genuine greatnefs

aim'd,

With worthy pride imperial olood difclaim'd ; Th' alluring hopes of Pharaoh's throne fefign'd, And the vain pleafures of a court declin'd ; Pleas'd with ohfcure recefs, to cafe the pau Of Jacob's race, and break their fervile chains Such generous minds are iorm'd where bleft re ligion reigns.

Ye friends of Epicurus, look around, All nature view with marks of prudence crown'd : ]yiind the wife ends, which proper means promote ; See hot? the different parts for different ufe are

wrought ;

Contemplate all this conduct and defign, Then own and praife th' Artificer Divine.

Regard the orb fublime, in aether borne, Which the blue regions of the ikies adorn ; Compar'd with whofe extent this low-hung ball, Shrtik to a point, is defpicably fmall : Their number, counting thofe th' unaided eye Can fee, or by invented tubes defcry, With thofe which in the adverfe hemifphere, Or near each pole to lands remote appear ; The wideft flretch of human thought exceeds, And in th' attentive mind amazement breeds;

UHS ; /
 * ft re- f

While thefe fo numerous, and Co vaft of fize, In various, ways roll through the tracklef* Ikies ; Through crofiing roads perplex'd and intricate, Perform their ftages, and their rounds repeat ; None by collifion from their courfe are driven, No fhocks, no conflicts, break the peace of heaven; No fhatter'd globes, no glowing fragments fall, No worlds o'erturn'dcrufn this terreftrial ball ; In beauteous order all the orbs advance, And in their mazy complicated dance, Not in one part of all the pathlefs flcy, Did any ever halt, or ftep awry.

When twice ten thoufand men depriv'd of fight ; To fome wide vale direct their footfteps right; Shall there a varioui figur'd dance effiy, Move by juft fteps, and meafur'd time obey; Shall croi's each other with unerring feet, Never miftake their place, and never meet : Nor (hall in many years the leaft decline From the fame ground, and the fame winding line s Then may in various roads the orbs above, Without a guide, in perfect concord move ; Then beauty, order, and harmonious laws, May not require a wife Directing Caufe.

See how th' indulgent father of the day At fuch due diftance does his beams difplay, That he, his heat may give to fea and land, In juft degrees,. as all their wants demand ! But had he, iri th' unmeafurable fpace Of athef, chofen a remoter place ; For inftance, pleas'd with that fuperior feat Where Saturn, or where. Jove, th^ir courfe repeat; Or had he happen'd farther yet to lie, In the more diftant quarters of the flcy; How fad, how wild, how exquifite a fcene Of defolation, had this planet been ! A wa'fteful, cold, untrodden wilderhefs, The gloomy haunts of horror and diftrefs : Inftead of wdods, which crown the mountain's

head,

And the gay honours of the verdant mead ; In Head of golden fruits, the garden's pride, By genial Ihow'rs and folar heat fupply'd ; tcelandian cold, and Hyperborean fnows, Eternal froft, with ice that never flows, Unfufferable winter, had defac'd Earth's blooming charmt.and made a barren wafte : No mild indulgent gales would gently bear, On their foft wings, fvveet vapours through the air, The balmy fpoils of plants and fragrant flowers, Of aromatic gioves, and myrtle bovvers, Whofe odoriferous exhalations fan. The flame of life, and recreate beafl; and man ; But ftorms, ev'n worfc than vex Norwegian waves,. That breed in Scythia's hills, or Lapland caves, Would through this bleak terreftrial defart blow, Glaze it with ice, or whelm it o'er with fnow.

Or had the fun, by like unhappy fate, Elected to the earth a nearer feat, His beams had cleft the liill, the valley dry'd,* Exhal'd the lake, and draiu'd the briny tide : A heat lupcrior far to that which broils Borneo, or Sumatra, Indian ifles ; Than that which ripens Guinea's golden ore ? Or burns the Lybian hind, or tans the Moorj

CREATION.

Had laid all nature wafte, ar.d turn'd the land

To hills of cinders, and to vales of fahd ;

No beafts could then have rang'd the leaflefs wood,

Nor finny nations cut the boiling flood :

Birds had not beat the airy road, the fwains

No flocks had tended on the ruffet plains.

Thus, had the fun's bright orb been more remote,

The cold had kill'd ; and, if more near, the

drought.

Next fee, Lucretian fages, fee the fun His courfe diurnal and his annual run. How in his glorious race he moves along, Gay as a bridegroom, as a giant ftrong : How his unvary'd labour he repeats, Returns at morning, and at eve retreats; And by the diftribution of his light, Now give's to man the day, and now the night ; Night, when the drowfy fwain and traveller ceafe Their daily toil, and foothe their limbs with

cafe ;

When all the weary fons of woe reftrain T

Their yielding cares \Vith (lumber's filken cha^i, > Solace fad grief, and lull reluctant pain. j

And while the fun, ne'er covetous of reft. Flies with fuch rapid fpeed from e'a.1 to weft, In tracks oblique he through the zodiac rolls, Between the northern and the fouthern poles : From which revolvipg progrefs through the fkics, The needful feafons of the year arifc. And as he now advances, now retreats, Whence winter colds proceed, and fummer beats, He qualifies and cheers the air by turns, Which winter freezes, and which fummer burns. Thus his kind rays the two extremes reduce', And keep a temper fit for nature's ufe. The froft and drought, by this alternate power, The earth's prolific energy reftore.' The lives of man and beail demand the change ; Hence fowls the air, and fifh the ocean, range. Of heat and cold this jufl fucceflive reign, Which does the balance of the year maintain ; The gardener's hope and farmer's patience props, Gives vernal verdure and autumnal crops. ;

Should but the fun his duty once forget, Nor from the north, nor from the fouth retreat : Should not the beams revive, and footh the foil, Mellow the furrow for the ploughman's toil ; A teeming vigour fhould they not diffufc, Ferment the glebe, and genial fpirits loofe, Whith lay imprifon'd in the ftifFen'd ground, Congeal'd with cold, in frofty fetters bound ; Unfruitful earth her wretched fate would rriourn, No grafs would clothe the plains, no fruit the tree

adorn.

But did the lingering orb much longer ftay, Unmindful of his courfe, and croaked way ; The earth, of dews defrauded, would deleft The fatal favour of th' effulgent gueft; To diftant worlds implore him to repair, And free from noxious beams the fulfry air; His rays productive now of wealth and joy, Would then the pafture and the hills annoy, ( And with too great indulgence would deftroy : j la vain the labouring hind would till the land, Turn up th gkbe, and fow his feed in fand - t

The meads would crack, in want of finding dews, The channels would th' exhaling river lofe : While in their haunts wilds bea^s expiring lie, The panting herds would on the pafture die. But now the fun at neither tropic ftay* A longer time than his alternate rays n fuch proportion heat and luftre give, As do not ruin nature, but revive.

When the bright orb, to folace fouthern feats. Inverts his courfe, and from the north retreats* As he advances, his indulgent beam Makes the glad earth with frefh conceptions teem; Reftores. their leafy honours to the \voods, Flowers to the banks, and freedom to the floods; Unbinds the turf, exhihtates the plain, Brings back his labour, and recruits the fwain ; Through all the foil a genial ferment fpreads, Regenerates the plants, and new adorns the meads. The birds on branches ptrch'd, or on the wing, At nature's verdant reftoration fing, And with melodious lay falute the fpring.

The heats of fummer benefits produce Of equal number, and of equal ufe : The fprouting births, and beauteous vernal bloom. By warmer rays to ripe perfection come ; Th' auftere and ponderous juices they fublime, Make them afcend the porous foil, and climb The orange-tree, the citron, and the lime ; Which, drunk in plenty by the thirfty root, Break forth ia painted flowers, and golden fruit : They explicate the leaves, and ripen food For the (ilk-labourers of the mulberry wood ; And the fweet liquor on the cane beftow, From which prepar'd the lufcious fugars flow ; With generous juice enrich the fprcading vine, And in the grape digeft the fprightly wine. The fragrant trees, which grow by Indian floods, And in Arabia's aromatic woods, Owe all their fpiccs to the fummer's heat, Their giuntny tears, and odoriferous fweat. Now the bright fun compads the precious ftone, Imparting radient luftre, like his own : He tinctures rubies with their rofy hue, And on the fapphire fpreads a heavenly blue; For the proud monarch's dazzling crown pre pares

Rich orient pearl, and adamantine ftars. Next autumn, when the fun's withdrawing ray The night enlarges, and contracts the day, To crown his labour to the farmer yields The yellow treafures of his fruitful fields : Ripens the harveft for the crooked fteel, ( While bending ftalks the rural weapon feel ;) The fragrant fruit for the nice palate fits, And to the prefs the fwelling grape fubmits.

At length, forfaken by the folar rays, See, drooping nature fickens and decays; While winter all hh faowy (lores difplays, In hoary triumph unmolcfted reigns O'er barren hills, and bleak untrodden plains; Hardens the glebe, the fhady grove deforms, Fetters the floods, and (hakes the air with ftorms. Now adive fpnhs arc reftrain'd with cold, And prifons, cramp'd with ice, the genial captive* hold,

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

The meads their flowery pride no longer wear, Arid trees extend their naked arms in air; The frozen furrow, and the fallow field, Nor to the fpade, nor to the harrow, yield.

Yet in their turn the fnows and frofts produce Various effects, and of important ufe. Th' intemperate heats of fummer are controll'd By winter's rigour, and inclement cold, Which checks contagious fpawn,and noxious fleams, The fatal offspring of immoderate beams ; Th* exhaufted air with vital nitre fills, Infection flops, arid deaths in embryo kills ; Conftrains the. glebe, keeps back the hurtful weed, And fits th furrow for the vernal feed. The Ipirits now, as faid, imprifon'd flay, ~)

Which elfe, by warmer fun-beams drawn away, > Would roam in air, and diffipated flray. ^ j Thus art the winter frofts to nature kind, IYo::S, which reduce exceflive, heats, and bind Prolific ferments in refifllefs chains, "Whence parent earth her f-ruitfulnefs maintains. To compafs all thefe happy ends, the fun In winding tracks does through the zodiac run.

You, who fo much are vers'd in caufes, tell, What from the tropics can the fun repel ? What vigorous arm, what repercufiive blow, Bandies the mighty globe flill to and fro, Yet with fuch conduct:, fuch unerring art, He never did the tracklef* road defert ? Why does he never in his fpiral race The trcpics or the polar 'circles pafs ? [trol

What gulfs, what mounds, what terrors can con. The rufhing orb, and make him backward roll ? Why fhould he halt at either flation ? why >Iot forward run in unobftructive iky ? Can he not pafs an aftronomic line ? -Or does he dread th* imaginary fign ; That he fhould ne'er advance to either pole, >Jor farther yet in liquid zether roll, Till he has gain'd iome unfrequented place Loft to the world in vaft unmeafur'd fpace ?

If to the old you the new fchools prefer, And to the fam'd Copernicus adhere ; If you efteem that fuppofition beft, Which moves the earth, and leaves the fun at reft ; With a new veil your ignorance you hide, Still is the knot as hard to be unty'd ; You.change your fcheme,but the old doubts remain, And ftill you leave th' inquiring mind in pain.

This problem, as philofophers, refolve : What makes the globe from weft to eaft revolve ? What is the ftrong impulfive caufe, declare, Which rolls the ponderous orb fo fwift in air ? To your vain aniwer will you have recourfe, And tell us 'tis ingenite, active force, Mobility, or native power to move, Words which mean nothing, and can nothing prove ? That moving power, that force innate explain, Or your grave anfwcrs are abfurd and vain : We no folution of our que:iion find ; Your words bewilder, not direct the mind.

If you, this rapid motion to procure, For the hard tafk employ magnetic power; Whether that .power you at the centre place, 'Or in the middle regions of the mafs,

4

Or elfe, as fome philofophers affert,

You give an equal fhare to every part ;

Have you by this the caufe of motion fhown ?

After explaining, is it not unknown ?

Since you pretend, by reafon's ftricteft laws,

Of an effect to manifeft the caufe;

Nature, of wonders fo immenfe a field,

Can none more ftrange.none more myfterious yield t

None that eludes fagacious reafon more

Than this obfcure, inexplicable power.

Since you the fpring of motion cannot (how,

Be jufi:, and faultlefs ignorance allow ;

Say, 'tis obedience to th' Almighty nod,

That 'tis the will, the power, the hand of God.

Philofophers of fpreading fame are found, Who by th' attraction of the orbs around Would move the earth, and make its courfe obey The fun's and moon's inevitable fway. Some from the preffure and impelling force Of heavenly bodies would derive its courfe ; Whilft in the dark and difficult difpute All are by turns confuted, and confute ; Each can fubvert th' opponent's fcheme, but none Has ftrength of reafon to fupport his own.

The rnind employ 'd in fearch of fecret things, To find out motion's caufe and hidden fprings, Through all th' ethereal regions mounts on high, Views all the fpheres, and ranges all the fky ; Searches the orbs, and penetrates the air With unfnccefsful toil, and fruiclefs care ; Till, ftopp'd by awful heights, and gulfs immenfe Of wifdom, and of vaft omnipotence, She trembling (lands, and docs in wonder gaze, Loft in the wide inextricable maze.

See, how the fun does on the middle fhine, And round the globe defcribe th' asquator line ; By which wife means he can the whole furvey With a direct, or with a flanting ray, In the fucceffion of a night and day. Had the north pole been fix'd beneath the fun, To fouthern realms the day had been unknown : If the fouth pole had gain'd that nearer feat, The northern climes had met as hard a fate. And fince the fpace, that lies on either fide The folar oib, is without limits wide ; Grant that the fun had happen'd to prefer A feat afcanr but one diameter, Loft to the light by that unhappy place This globe had lain a frozen, lonefome mafs.

Behold the light emitted from the fun, What more familiar, and what more unknown! While by its fpreading radiance it reveals All nature's face, it ftill itfelf conceals. See how each morn it does its beams difplay, And on its golden wings bring back the day ! How foon th' effulgent emanations fly Through the blue gulf otinterpofing fky ! How foon their luftre all the region fill?, Smiles on the vallies, and adorns the hills! Millions of miles, fo rapid is their race, To cheer the earth, they in few moments pafs. Amazing progrefs ! At its utmoft ftretch, What human mind can this fwift motion reach ? But if, to fave fo quick a flight, you fay The ever- rolling orb's impulfive ray

CREATION.

On the next threads and filaments does bear "Which form the fpringy texture of the air, That thofe ftill ftrike the nex^, till to the fight The quick vibration propagates the light ; 'Tis ftill as hard, if we this fchcme believe, The caufe of light's fvvift progref.* to conceive.

With thought from prepnffcflion free, reflect On folar rays, as they the fight rcfpect. The beams of light had been in vain difplay'd, Had not the eye been fit for vifion made : In vain the author had the eye prepar'd With fo much ikill, had not the light appear'd.

The old and new aftronomers in vain Attempt the heavenly motions to explain. Firft Ptolemy his fcheme celeftial wrought, And of machines a wild provision brought : Orbs centric and eccentric he prepares, Cycles and epicycles, folid fpheres, In order plac'd and with bright globes inlaid, To folve the tow'rs by heavenly bodies made. But fo perplex'd, fo intricate a frame, The latter ages with derifion name. The comets, which at feafons downward tend, Then with their flaming equipage afcend ; Venus, which in the purlieus of the fun Does now above him, now beneath him, run ; The ancient ftructure of the heavens fubvtrt, Rear'4 with vaft labour, but with little art.

Copernicus, who rightly did condemn This eldeft fyftem, form'd a wifer fchcme; In which he leaves the fun at reft, and rolls The orb terreflrial on its proper poles ; Which makes the night and day by this career, And by its flow and crooked courfe the year. The famous Dane, who oft the modern guides, To earth and fun their provinces divides : The earth's rotation makes the night and day ; The fun revolving through the th' ecliptic way Effects the various feafons of the year, Which in their turn for happy ends appear. This fcheme or that, which pleafes bcft, embrace, Still we the fountain of their motion trace.

Kepler afferts thefe wonders may be dune By the magnetic virtue of the fun, Which he, to gain his end, thinks fit to place Full in the centre of that mighty fpace, Which does the fpheres, where planets roll, include, And leaves him with attractive force endued. The fun, thus feated, by mechanic laws, The earth and every diftant planet draws; By which attraction all the planets, found Within his reach, are turn'd in sether round.

If all thefe rolling orbs the fun obey, Who holds his empire by magnetic fvvay ? Since all are guided with an equal force, Why are they fo unequal in their courfe ? Saturn in thirty years his ring completes, Which fwifter Jupiter in twelve repeacs. Mars three and twenty months revolving fpends; The earth in twelve her annual journey ends. Venus, thy race in twice four months is run ; } For his, Mercurius three demands ; the moon > Jier revolution finifhes in one. j

If all at once are mov'd, and by ortf fpring, Why fo unequal ib their annual ring ?

If fome, you fay, prefs'd w'th a por.derdus load Of gravity, move flower in their road, Becaufe, with weight incumber'd and oppreft Thefe fluggifh orbs th' attractive fun refift ; Till you can weight and gravity explain, Thofe words are infignificant and vain. If planetary orbs the fun obey, Why fhould the moon difown hisfovereign fway * Why in a whirling eddy of her own Around the globe terreftrial fhould fhe run ? This difobedicnce of the moon will prove The fun's bright orb does not the planet move.

Philofophers may fpare their toil ; in vain -\ They form new fchemes,and rack their thought*/

ful brain,

The caufe of heavenly motions to explain : j

After their various unfuccefsful ways, Their fruitlefs labour, and inept effiys, No caufe of thofe appearances they'll find, But power exerted by th' Eternal Mind ; Whicji through their roads the orbs celeftial drivei, And this or that determin'd motion gives. The Mind Supreme does all his worlds controul, Which by his order this and that way roll; Fro ( m him they take ft delegated force, An'd by his high command maintain their courfe ; By laws decreed e'er fleeting time begun, In their fix'd limits they their ftages run.

But if the earth, and each erratic world, 'Around their fun their proper centre whirl'd, Compofe but one extended vaft machine, And from one fpring their motions all begin ; Does not fo wide, fo intricate a frame, Yet fo harmonious, fovercign arc proclaim ? Is it a proof of judgment to invent A work of rpheres involv'd, which reprefent The fituation of the orbs above, Their fize and number fbow, and how they move 3 And does not in the orbs themfelves appear A great- contrivance, and defign as clear?

This wide machine the univerfe regard, With how much fkill is each apartment rear'd ! The fun, a globe of fire, a glowing mafs, Hotter 'than melting flint, or fluid glafs, Of this our fyftem holds the middle place. Mercurius, neareft to the central fun, Does in an oval orbit circling run ; But rarely is the object of our fight In folar glory funk, and more prevailing light. Venus the next, whofc lovely beams adorn As well-the dewy eve, as opening morn, Does her fair orb in beauteous order turn. The globe terreftrial next, with flanting poles, And all its ponderous load, unwearied rolls. Then we behold bright planetary Jove Sublime in air through his wide province move; Four fccond planets his dominion own, And round him turn, as round the earth the

moon.

Saturn, revolving in the higheft fphere, With lingering labour finifhes his year.

.Yet is this mighty fyftem, which contains So many worlds, fuch vaft sethereal plains, But one of thoufands, which compofe the whole, Perhaps as glorious, and of worlds as fall.

I.

THE WORKS BLACKMORE.

The ftars, which grace the, high expanfion, bright jBy their own beams, and uriprecarious light, Though fome near neighbours feem, and fome dif-

play

United luftre in the millcy way, At a vaft diftance from each other He, Sever'd by fpacious voids of liquid flcy. All thefe illuftrious worlds, and many more, "Which by the tube aftronomers explore ; And millions which the glafs can ne'er defcry, Loft in the wilds of vaft immen(hy ; Are funs, are centres, whofe fuperior fway planets of various magnitude obey.

If we with one clear comprehenfive fight Saw all thefe fyftems, all thefe orbs of light ; If we their order and dependence knew, Had all their motions and their ends in view, With all the comets which in ZEther ftrny, Yet conftant to their time and to their way ; "Which planets feem, though rarely they appear, Rarely approach the radiant fun fo near, That his fair beam* their atmofphere pervade, Whence their bright hair and flaming train* are

made ; ;

Would not this view convincing marks impart Of perfeft prudence, and ftupendous art ?

The mafters form 'din Newton's famous fchool, Who does the chief jn modern fcience rule, JEreet their fchemtfs by mathematic laws, And folve appearances with juft applaufe : Thefe, who have nature's fteps with care pur&ed, That matter is with active force endued, That all its parts magnetic power exert, And to each other gravitate, affert- While by this power they on each other acjt, They are at 6nce attracted, and attract. JLefs bulky matter therefore muft obey JMore bulky matters more engaging fway ; By this the fabric they together hold, jBy this the courfe of heavenly orbs unfold. Yet thefe fagacious fons of fcience own Attractive virtue is a thing unknown^ This wondrous power, they pioufly affert, Th' Almighty Author did at firft imparf' To matter in degrees, that might produce The motions he defign'd for nature's ufe. :

But, left we fhould not here due reverence pay To learned Epicurus, fee the way By which this reafon.er, of fuch high renown, JMoves through th' ecliptic road the rolling fun. Oppreft with thirft and heat, to adverfe feats By turns, fays he, the painting fun retreats To flake his drought, his vigour to repair In fnowy climes, and frozen fields of air ; Where the bright glutton revels without reft On his cool banquet, and aerial feaft; Still to and fro he does his light convey ~\

Through the fame track, the fame unalter'd way, C On luxury intent, and eager of his prey. j

' But if the fun is back and forward roll'd, To treat his thirfly orb with polar cold, Say, is it not, good Epicurus, flrange He fbottld not once beyond the tropic range, Where he, to quench his drought fo much inclin'd, May fnowy fields, and nitrous paflurss findj

Meet (lores of cold fo greedily purfuM, And be refrefh'd with never-wafting food ?

Sometimes this wondrous man is pleas'd t This way and that ftrong blafts the fun convey : A northern wind his orb v ith vigour drives, Till at the fouthern tropic it arrives; Then, wanting breath, and with his toil oppreft, He drops his wings, and leaves the air at reft ; Frefh gufts, nowfpringing from the fouthern pole, Aflault him there, and make him backward roll. Thus gales alternate through the zodiac blow The failing orb, and waft him to and fro; While Epicurus, bleft with thought refin'd, Makes the vaft 'globe the paftime of the wind.

Were it not idle labour to confute Notions fo wild, unworthy of difpute ; I'd of the learned Epicurus afk, If this were for the winds a proper taflc ? Illuftrious fage, inform th* inquirer, why Still from one ftated point of all the &y The fickle meteor (hould the fun convey Through the fame ftages of his fpiral way ? Why in ore path, why with fuch equal pace, That he fhould never mifs in all his race, Of time one minute, or one inch of fpace

Remark the air's tranfparent element, Its curious ftrui&ure, and its vaft extent : Its wondrous web proclaims the loom divine; Its threads, the hand that drew them out fo fine. This thin contexture makes its bofom fit Celeilial heat and luftre to tranfmit; By which of foreign orbs the riches flow On this dependent, needy ball below.

Obferve its parts link'd in fuch arfful fort, All are at cnce fuppnrted, and ftippoft : The column pois'd fits hovering on our heads, And a foft burden oh our fhoulders fpreads; So the fide-arches all the weight fuftain, We find no preffure, and we feel no pain ; Still are the fubtile firings in tenfion found, Like thofe of lutes to juft proportion wound, Which of the air's vibration i the fource, When it receives the ftrokes of foreign force.

Let curious minds, who would the air infpect. On its elaftic energy reflect. The fecret force through all the frame difTusV, By which its firings are from compreffion loos'dj The fpungy parts, now to a fliaiter feat Are forc'd by cold, and widen'd now by heat j By turns they all extend, by turns retire, As nature's various fervices require ; They now expand to fill an empty fpace, Now fhrink to let d ponderous body pafs. If raging winds invade the atmofphere, *)

iTheir force its curious texture cannot tear, Make no disruption in the threads of air ; J

Or if it docs, thofe parts themfelves reftore, Heal their own wounds, and their own breaches cure. ' '

Hence the melodious tenants of the flcy, Which haunt inferior feats, or foar on high, With eafe through all the fluid region ftray, And through the wide expanfion wing their way; Whofe open me flies let terreftrial ft earns Pafs through, entic'd a^vay by folar beams;

CREATION.

609

And thus a road reciprocal difplay

To riling vapours, and defcendiug day.

Of heat and light, what ever-during ftores, Brought from the fun's exhauftlefs golden fhores, Through gulfs immenfe of intervening air, Enrich the earth, and every lofs repair ! The land, its gainful traffic to maintain, Sends out crude vapours, in exchange for rain ; The flowery garden, and the verda'nt mead, T Warm'd by their rays, their exhalations fpread,V In (howers and balmy dews to be repaid ; j

The ftreams, their banks forfaken, upward move, And flow again in wandering clouds above : Thefe regions Nature's magazines on high With all the (lores demanded there fupply ; Their different ftcams the air's wide bofom fill, M6ift from the flood, dry from the barren hill; Materials into meteors to be wrought, Which back to thefe terreftrial feats are brought, By Nature (hap'd to various figures, thofe The fruitful rain, and thefe the hail cumpofe, The fnowy fleece, and curious froft-work ; thefc Produce the dew, and thofe the gentle breeze : Some form fierce winds, which o'er the mountain

pafs,

And beat with vigorous wings the valley's face; O'er 'the wide lake and barren defart blow, O'er Libya's burning fand, and Scythia'a fnow ; Shake the high cedar, through the foreft fwcep, And with their furious breath ferment the deep.

This thin, this foft contexture of the air Shows the wife Author's providential care, Who did the wondrous ftru&ure fo contrive, That it might life to breathing creatures give ; Might reinfpire, and make the circling mafj. Through all its winding channels fit to pafs. Had not the Maker wrought the fpringy frame Such as it is, to fan the vital flame, The blood, defrauded of its nitrous food, Had cool'd and languifh'd in th* arterial road : While the tir'd heart had ftrove with - fruitlcfs

pain To pufh the lazy tide along the vein.

Of what important ufe to human kind, To what great ends fubfervient, is the wind \ Behold, where'er this active vapour flies, It drives the clouds, and agitates the Ikies : This from ftagnation and corruption fares Th' aerial ocean's ever-rolling waves. This animals, to fuccour life, demand ; For, mould the air unventilated ftand, The idle deep corrupted would contain Blue deaths, and fecret ftores of raging pain ; The fcorching fun would with a fatal beam Make all the void with births malignant teem, Engender jaundice, fpotted torments breed, And purple plagues, from peftilential feed ; Exhaling vapours would be turn'd to fwarms Of noxious infedb, and deftru&ive worms, More than were rais'd to fcourge tyrannic luft, By Mofeii' rod, from animated duft.

Another blefling, -which the breathing wind Benevolent conveys to human kind, Is, that it cools ami qualifies the air, And with foft breezes docs the rejiious cheer, VOL. VII.

n which the fun o'er-friendly does difplay Heat too prevailing:, and redundant day. c fwarthy nations of the torrid zone, low well to you i=> this great bounty known ! s frequent gales from the wide ocean rife o fan your air, and moderate your flues ; o conftant winds, as well as rivers, flow 'rom your high hills enrich'd with ftores of fnow; or this great end, thefe hills rife more fublimc "han thofe erected in a temperate clime. lad not the Author this provifion made, Jy which your air is cool'd, your fun allay'd, Deftroy'd by too intenfe a flame, the land lad lain a parch'd inhofpitable fand. hefe diftridts, which between the tropics lie, Which fcorching beams directly darted fry, Were thought an uninhabitable feat, Surnt by the neighbouring orb's immoderate heat : 5ut the frelh breeze, that from the ocean blows, rom the wide lake, or from the mountain fnovvs, So fooths the air, and mitigates the fun, So cures the regions of the fultry zone, That oft* with Nature's bleflings they abound, Frequent in people, and with plenty crown'd.

As aclivc winds relieve the air and land, The leas no lefs their ufoful blafts demand : Without this aid, the Aiip would ne'er advance Along the deep, and o'er the billow dance, But lie a lazy and a ufclefs load, The foreft's wafted fpoils, the lumber of the flood, Let but the wind with an aufpicinus gale, To (hove the veflel, fill the fpreading fail, And fee, with fwelling canvafs wing'd, fhe flies, And with her waving llreamers fweeps the ikies! Th' adventurous merchant thus purfues his way Or to the rife, or to the fall of day. Thus mutual traffic fever 'd realms maintain, And manufactures change to mutual gain ; Each other's growth and arts they fell and buy, Eafe their redundance, and their wants fupply.

Ye Britons, who the fruit of commerce find, How is your ille a debtor to the wind, Which thither wafts Arabia's fragrant fpoils, Gems, pearls, and fpices, from the Indian ifles, From Perfia filks, wines from Iberia's fhore, Peruvian drugs, and Guinea's golden orel Delights and wealth to fair Augufta flow From every region whence the winds can blow.

See, how the vapours congregated rear Thei* gloomy columns and obfcure the air I Forgetful of their gravity, they rife, Renounce the ctntre.and uftirp the fkies, Where, form'd to clouds, they their black lines dif play,

And take their airy march, as winds convey. Sublime in air while they their courfe purfue, They from their fable fleeces {hake the dew- On the parch'd mountain, and with genial rain Renew the foreft, and refrefti the plain : They fhed their healing juices on the ground, Cement the crack, and clofe the gaping wound, Did not the vapours, by the folar heat ThinnM and exhal'd, rife to their airy feat, Or not in watery clouds colle&cd fly, Then form'd to ponderousjrops defat the Iky:

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

The fields w.oulo! no recruits of moifture find, Jjut, by the fun-beams dry 'd, and by the wind, Would never plant, or flower, or fruit, produce, Or for the beaft, or for his matter's ufe.

But in the fpacious climates, which the rain t)oes never blefs (fuch is th' Egyptian plain), With how much art is that defect fupply'd ! See, how fome noble river's fwelling tide, Augmented by the mountains' melting fnows, Breaks from its banks, and o'er the region flows ! Hence fruitful crops and flowery wealth enfue, "*) And to the fwain fuch mighty gains accrue, > He ne'er reproaches Heaven for want of dew. j

See, and revere, th' artillery of heaven, Drawn by the gale, or by the tempeft driven ! A dreadful fire the floating batteries make, O'erturn the mountain, and the foreft (hake. This .way and that they drive the atmofphere, And its wide bofom from corruption clear, While their bright flame confumes the fulphur

trains,

And noxious vapours, which infe5l oar veins. Thus they refine the vital element, Secure our health, and growing plagues prevent.

Your contemplation farther yet purfue ; The wondrous world of vegetables view! Obferve the foreft oak, the mountain pine, The towering cedar, and the humble vine, The bending willow, that o'erfhades the flood, And each fpontaneous offspring of the wood !

The oak and pine, which high from eatffh arifey And wave their lofty heads amidft the fkies, Their parent earth in like proportion wound, And through crude metals penetrate the ground ; Their ftrong and ample roots defcend fo deep That fixt and firm they may their ftation keep, Arid the fierce fhocks of furious winds defy, With all the outrage of inclement flcy. But the bafe brier and the noble vine Their arms around their ftronger neighbour twine. The creeping ivy, to prevent its fall, Clings with its fibrous grapples to the wall. Thus are the tree* of every kind fecure, Or by their own, or by a borrow'd power. But every tree from all its branching roots Amidit the glebe fmall hollow fibres fhoots; Which drink with thirfty mouths the vital juice, And to the limbs and leaves their food diffufe : Peculiar pores peculiar juice receive, To this deny, to that admittance give.

Hence various, trees their various fruits produce, Some for delightful tafte, and fome for ufe. Heftce fprouting plants enrich the plain and wood. For phyfic fome, and fonie defign'd for food. Hence fragrant flowers, with different colours dy'd, On fmiling meads unfold their gaudy pride.

Review thefe numerous fcenes, at once furvcy Nature's extended face ; then, fceptics, fay, In this wide field of wonders can you find No art difcover'd, and no end defign'd ?

BOOK III.

Tte Argument.

The introduction. tJfeful knowledge firft purfued by mat). Agriculture. Architecture. Sculpt'ufe. Painting. Mufic. The Grecian philofophers firft engaged in ufeleffffpeculations. The abfurdity of aflert- ing the felf-exiftent, independent, and eternal being uf atoms, according to the fcheme of Epicurus. Anfwer to the objections of atheifts to the fcheme of creation afferted in the two former books. The bje6lions brought by Lucretius againft creation, from the neeeffity of pre-exiftent matter for the formation of all kinds of beings; from the pretended unartful contrivance of the world; from thorns, briers, and noxious weeds ; from favage beads, ftorms. thunder, difeafes ; from the painful birth and the fhort life of man ; from the inequality of heat and cold in different climates ; anfwered. The objections of the Pyrrhoniaus, or Sceptics, anfwered. A reply o thofe who aflert all things owe their being and their motions to nature. Their different and fenfelefs account of that word. More apparent and eminent fkill and wifdom expreffed in the works of nature than in thofe of humaji art. The unreafonablertefs of denying fkill and defcgn in the author of thofe works. Vaninus, Hobbes, and Spinofa, ccmfidered.

JElRE vain philpfophy had rear'd her fchool, Whefe chiefs irnagin'd realms of fcience rule, With idle toil form vifionary fchemes, And wage eternal war for rival dreams; "fctudious of good, man difregarded fame, And ufeful knowledge was his eldeft aim : Through metaphyfic wilds he never flew, Nor the dark haunts of fchool chimasras knew, $ttt had alone his hap pinefs in view.

He mi&'d the lowing herd, he prefc'd the

cheefe,

Folded the flock, nd fpun the woolly fleece. In urns the bees delicious dews he lay'd, Whofe kindling wax in vented day difplay'd; Wrefted their iron entrails from the hills, Then with the fpoils his glowing forges fills ; And fhap'd with vigorous ftrokes the ruddy te To rural arais> unsonfcious yet of war.

CREATION.

Me made the ploughfhare In the furrow fliine, Andlearn'd to fow his bread, and plant his vine. JNow verdant fond adorn'd the garden beds, And fruitful trees (hot up their branching heads ; Rich balm from groves, and herbs from grafly

plains, His fever footh'd, or heal'd his wounded veins.

Our fathers next, in architecture flcill'd, Cities for ufe, and forts for fafety build : Then palaces and lofty domes arofe, Thefe for devotion, and for pleafure thofe. Their thoughts were next to artful fculpture turn'd, Which now the palace, now the dome adorn'd. The pencil then did growing fame acquire, "^ Then was the trumpet heard, and tuneful lyre, / One did the triumph fing, and one the war in-f fpire. J

Greece did at length a learned race produce, Who needful icience mock'd, and arts of ufe, Confum'd their fruitlefs hours in eager chafe Of airy notions, through the boundlefs fpace Of fpecuhtion, and the darkfome void, Where wrangling wits, in endlefs ftrife employ'd, Mankind with idle fubtiltics embroil, And faftiion fyfteros with romantic toil; Thefe with the pride of dogmatizing fchools Impos'd on nature arbitrary rules ; Forc'd her their Vain inventions to obey, And move as learned frenzy trac'd the way : Above the clouds while they prefum'd to foar^ Her tracklefs heights ambitious to explore, And heaps of undigcfted volumes writ, lllufive notions of fantaftic wit ; bo long they Nature fearcn'd, and mark'd her laws, They loft the knowledge of th' Almighty caufe.

Th' erroneous dictates of each Grecian fage Renounc'd the doctrines of the eldcft age. Vet thefe their matchlcfs fcience did proclaim, Ufurp diftindion, and appropriate fame.

But though their fchools produc'd no nobler fruit Than empty fchemes, and triumphs of difpute ; The notions which arife from Nature's light As well adorn the mind, as guide her right, Enlarge her compafs, and improve her fight. Thefe ne'er the breaft with vain ambition fire, But banifh pride, and modeft thoughts infpire. By herinform'd, we hleft religion learn, Its glorious object by her aid difcern ; The rolling worlds around us we furvey, Th' alternate fovereigns of the night and day ; View the wide earth adorn'd with hil.s and woods, Rich in her herds, and fertile by her floods ; Walk through the deep apartments of the main, Afcend the air to vifit clouds and rain ; And, while we ravifh'd gaze on Nature's face, Remark her order, and her motions trace, The long coherent chain of things we find Leads to a Caufe Supreme, a wife Creating Mind.

You, who the being cf a God difclaini, And think mere chance produc'd this wondrous

frame ;

Say, did you e'er reflect, Lucretian tribe, To matter what perfections you afcribe ? Can you to ciuft fuch veneration fliow ? A atom wi:h fuch privilege endow,

That from its nature's pure neeeffity It fliould exift, and no corruption fee ?

Since your firft atoms independent are, And not each other's being prop and bear, And fince to this it is fortuitous That others fhould exiftencc have ; fuppofe You in your mind one atom fliould remove From all the troops, that in the vacant ftrovfc, Cannot our thought conceive one atom lefs ? If fo, you Grecian fages muft confefs That matter, which you independent name, Cannot a being necejlary claim ; For what has being from neceflity, It is impoflible it fhould not be.

Why has an atom this one place pofTeft Of all the empty void, and not the reft ? If by its nature's force 'tis prefent here, By the fame force it muft be eTery where ; Can beings be confin'd, which neceffary are ? If a firft body may to any place Be not determin'd, in the boundlefs fpace, 'Tis plain, it then may abfent be from all ; Who then will this a felf-exiftence call ? As time does vaft eternity regard, So place is with infinitude compar'd : A being then, which never did commence, Muft, as eternal, likewife be immehfe. What caufc within, or what without, is found, That can a being uncreated bound ? None that's internal, for it has no caufe; Nor can it be controll'd by foreign laws, For then ic clearly would dependent be On force fuperior, which will ne'er agree With felf-exiftence and neceffity; Abfurdly then to atoms you aflign Such powers, and fuch prerogatives divine. Thus while the notion of a God you flight, Yourfelves (who vainly think you reafoii right) Make vile material Gods, in number infinite.

Now let us, as 'tis juft,in turn prepare To ftand the foe, and wage dcfenfive war. Lucretius firft, a mighty hero, fprings Into the field, and his own triumph fmgs. He brings; to make us from our ground retire, The reaibner's weapons, and the poet's fire. The tuneful fophift thus his battle forms Our bulwarks thus in polifh'd armour ftorms :

To parent matter things their being owe, Becaufe from nothing no productions flow ; And, if we grant no pre-exiftent fred, Things, different things, from what they

might breed,

And any thing from any thing proceed ; The fpicy groves might Scythia's hills adorn, The thiftle might the amarauth have borne, The vine the lemon, and the grape tht thorn ; titrds from the hills, men, from the feas mig

rife,

From woods the whales, and lions from the fkie, Th' elated bard here, with a conqueror's air, Difdainful (miles, and bids his foes defpair. But, Carus, here you ufe poetic charms, And not a (Tail us with the reafoner's arms. Where all is clear, you fancy'd doubts remove, And what we grant with cafe, with labour provc$

Ill

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

What you would prave, but cannot, you decline ; But choofc a thinjr you can, and there you ihine.

Tell us, fam'd Roman, was it e'er denied, That feeds for fuch productions are fupplied ? Thar Nature always muft materials find For beafts and trees, to propagate their kind? .All generation, the rude peafant knows, A pre-exiftent matter muft fuppofe. But what to Nature firft her being gave ? Tell, whence your atoms their exiftence have ? We afk you, whence the feeds constituent fpring Of every plant, and every living thing ? Whence every creature ftiould produce its kind, And to its proper fpecies be confin'd ? To anfwer this, Lucretius, will require More than fweec numbers and poetic fire.

But fee how well the poet will fupport jHis caufe, if we the argument retort. If chance alone could manage, fort, divide, And, beings to produce, your atoms guide ; If caiual concourfe did the world compofe, And things from hits fortuitous arofe; Then any thing might come from any thing ; For how from chance can conftant order fpring ? The foreft oak might bear the blufhing rofe, And fragrant myrtles thrive in Ruffian fnows ; The fair pomegranate might adorn the pine, The grape the bramble, and the floe the vine ; Filh front the plains, birds from the floods might

rife, And lowing herds break from the ftarry flues.

But, fee, the chief does keener weapons choofe, Advances bold, and thus the fight renews :

" If I were doubtful of the fource and fpring " Whence things arife, I from the ikies could

bring,

ct And every part of nature, proofs, to {how " The world to gods cannot its being owe ; " So full of faults is all th' unartful frame : " Firft we the air's unpeopled defert blame. " Brute beafts poflefs the hill, and fliady wood ; " Much do the lakes, but more the ocean's flood <* ( Which fevers realms, and fhores divided leaves) " One third, by freezing cold and burning heat, " Lies a deform'd, inhofpitable feat; " The reft, unlabour'd, would by nature breed '** Extort his food from the reluctant foil ; <c Did not the farmer's fteel the furrow wound, ^ And harrows tear the harveft from the ground, " The earth would no fpontaneous fruits afford " To man, her vain imaginary lord. c Oft', when the labouring hind has plough'd the
 * Take from the land by interpofing waves ;
 * Wild brambles only, and the noxious weed,
 * ' Did not induftrious man, with endlcfs toil,

" field,

" And forc'd the glebe unwillingly to yield, " The fruits (fad ruin :) perifti on the ground, " Burnt by the fun, or by the deluge drown'd ; ' Nature, befides, the favage beaft fuftains,
 * ' When green and flowery nature crowns his hope
 * ' With the gay promife of a plenteous crop,
 * Or foon decay, by fnows immoderate chill'd,
 * ' By winds are blafted, or by lightning kill'd.

Breeds ia the hills the terror of the plains,

To man a fatal race. Could this be fo, Did gracious gods difpofe of things below ? Their proper plagues with annual feafons comey v And deaths untimely blaft us in the bloom. Man at his birth (unhappy fon of grief!) Is helplefs cad on the wide coafte of life, " In want of all things whence our comforts flow; A fad and moving fpe&acle of woe. Infants in ill-prefaging cries complain, As confcious of a coming life of pain, [grants, All things mean time to beafts kind Nature Prevents their fufferings, and fupplies their " wants ; [and feed,

" Brought forth with eafe, they grow, and fkip, " No dangling nurfe, or jingling gewgaw, need ; " In caves they lurk, or o'er the mountains range, " Nor ever through the year their garment change ; " Unvers'd in arms, and ignorant of war, " They need no forts, and no invafion fear ; " Whate'er they want, from Nature's hand they

" gain; " The life flie gave, flie watches to maintain."

Thus impotent in fenfe, though ftrong in rage, The daring Roman does the gods engage ; But undifmay'd we face th' intrepid foe, Suftain his nnfet, and thus ward the blow.

Suppofe defects in this terreftrial feat, That nature is not, as you urge, complete ; That a divine and wife Artificer Might greater wonders of his art confer, And might with eafe on man, and man's abode, More bounty, more perfection, have beftow'd ; If in this lower world he has not Ihown His utmoft {kill, fay, has he therefore none ? We in productions arbitrary fee Marks of perfe&ion, different in degree. Though mafters now more {kill, now lefs impart, Yet are not all their works the works of art ? Do poets ftill fublimer fubje&s fmg, Still ftretch to heaven a bold afpiring wing, Nor e'er defcend to flocks and labouring fwains, Frequent the floods, or range the humble plains ? Did, Grecian Phidias, all thy pieces (hine With equal beauty ? or, Apelles, thine ? Or Raphael's pencil never choofe to fall ? Say, are his works transfigurations all ? Did Buonorota never build, O Rome, A meaner ftructure, than thy wondrous dome ? Though, in their works applauded as their beft, Greater defign and genius are expreil, Yet is there none acknowledg'd in the reft ? In all the parts of Nature's fpacious fphere Of art, ten thoufand miracles appear : And will you not the Author's {kill adore, Becaufe you think he might difcover more ? You own a watch th' invention of the mind, Though for a fingle motion 'tis dcfign'd, As well as that, which is with greater thought, With various fpi ings, for various motions wrought.

An independent, wife, and confcious caufc, Who freely acts by arbitrary laws, Who at connexion and at order aims, Creatures diftinguifti'd in perfection frames. Unconfcious cauies only ftill impart heir utmoft {kill, their utmoft power exert.

CREATION.

Thofc, winch can freely choofe, difcern, andy

know, (.

In acting can degrees of vigour (how, f

And more or lefs of art or care bellow. J

If all perfection were in all things fhown, All beauty, all variety, were gone.

As this inferior habitable feat By different parts is mad* one whole complete ; So our low world is only one of thofe, Which the capacious univerfe compofe. Now to the univerfal whole advert ; TJie earth regard as of that whole a part, In which wide frame more noble worlds abound ; Witnefs, ye glorious orbs, which hang around, Ye fhiniRg planets, that in aether dray, And thou, bright lord and ruler of the day ! Witnefs, ye dars, which beautify the fkies, Haw much do your vad globes in height and fize, In beauty and magnificence outgo Our ball of earth, that hangs in clouds below ! Between yourfelves too is.diftin&ion found, Of different bulk, with different glory crown'd ; The people, which in your bright regions dwell, Mud this low world's inhabitants excel ; And, fince to various planets they agree, ^

They from each other mud didinguifli'd be, > And own perfections different in degree. 3

When we on fruitful Nature's care refledt, And her exhaudlefs energy refpecl, That docks this globe, which you Lucretians call The world'* coarfe dregs, which to 'the bottom

fall, *

With numerous kinds of life, and bounteous fills With breathing gueds the vallies, floods, and

hilU;

We may pronounce each orb fudains a race Of living things adapted to the place. Were the refulgent parts and mod refin'd Only to ferve the dark and bafe defign'd ? Were all the dars, whole beauteous realms of

light,

At didance only hung to fhine by right, And with their twinkling beams to pleafe our

fight ?

How many roll in aether, which the eye Could ne'er, till aided by the glafs, defcry ; And which no commerce with the earth maintain! Are all thofe glorious empires made in vain ?

Now, as I laid, the globe tcrredrial view, As of the whole a part, a mean one too. Though 'tis not like th' aethereal worlds refin'd, Yet is it jud, and finifh'd in its kind ; Has all perfection which the place demands, Where in coherence with the red it (lands. Were to your view the univerfe difplay'd, And all the fcenes of nature open laid ; Could you their place, proportion, harmony, Their beauty, order, and dependence, fee, You'd grant our globe had all the marks of art, AU the perfection due to fuch a part, Though not with ludre, or with magnitude, Like the bright dars, or brighter fun, endued.

Yqu oft* declaim on man's unhappy fate; ~\ Infulting, oft' demand in this debate, If the kind gods could fuch a wretch create ? 3

i

But whence can this unhappinefs arife ? You fay, as foon as born, he helplefs lies, And mourns his woes in ill-prefaging cries. But does not Nature for the child prepare The parent's love, the nurfe's tender care, Who, of their own forgetful, feck his good, Enfold his limbs in bands, and fill his veins with

i food?

That man is frail and mortal, is coqfeft ; Convulfions rack his nerves, and cares his bread ; His flying life is chas'd by ravening pains, Through all its doubles in the winding veint; Within himfelf he Cure dedru&ion breeds, And fecret torment in his bowels feeds ; By cruel tyrants, by the favage bead, Or his own fiercer pailions he's opprcft ; Now breathes malignant air, now poifon drinks ; By gradual death, or by untimely, finks.

But thefe objectors mud the caufe upbra.54 That has not mortal man immortal made ; For, if he once mud feel the fatal blow, Is it of great importance when, or how ? Should the Lucretian lingering life maintain Through numerous ages, ignorant of pain, Still might the dif contented murmurer cry, Ah, haplefs fate of man ! ah, wretch, doom'd once

to die !

But oh ! how foon would you, who thus complain, And Nature's caufe of cruelty arraign, By reafon's dandard this midake correct, And ceafe to. murmur, did you once reflect, That death removes us only from our (eat, Does not extinguidi life, but change its date. Then are difplay'd (oh ravifhing furprife !) Fair fcenes of blifs, and triumphs in the fkies ; To which admitted, each fuperior mind, By virtue's vital nergy refin'd, Shines forth with more than folar glory bright, And, cloth'd with robes of beatific light, His hours in heavenly tranfports does employ, Young with immortal bloom from living dreams of

joy.

You afk us, why the foil th thidle breeds ? *) Why its fpontaneous births are thorns and {

weeds ? f

Why for the harveft it the harrow needs ? 3 The Author might a nobler world have made, V In brighter drefs the hills and vales array'd, V And all its face in flowery fcenes difplay'd : j The glebe untill'4 might plenteous crops have

borne,

And brought forth fpicy groves indead of thorn; Rich fruit and flowers, without the gardener's pains. Might every hill have crown'd, have honour'd all

the plains :

This nature might have boaded, ha4 the mind, Who form'd the fpacious univerfe, defign'd That man, from labour free as well as grief, Should pafs in lazy luxury his life. But he his creature gave a fertile foil, Fertile, but not without the owner's toil; That fome reward his indudry fhould crown, And that his food in part might be his own. But while, infulting, you arraign the land, Afk why it want* the plough, or labourer's b*nd.

6*4

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE,

Kipd to the marble rocks, you ne'er complain

That they without the fculptor'sfkill and pain

No perfect ftatue yield, no baffe relieve,

Or finifh'd column for the palace give ;

Yet if from hills unlabour'd figure* came,

Man might have eafe enjoy'd, though never fame.

You may the world of more defects upbraid, That other works by Nature are unmade; That fhe did never at her own expence, A palace rear, and in magnificence Out-rival art, to grace the ftately rooms ; That fhe no caftle builds, no lofty domes, liad Nature's hand thefe various werks prepar'd, What thoughtful care,wfcat labour had been fpar'd !* But then no realm would one great matter fho\y, No Phidias Greece, and Rome no Angelo. With equal reafon too you might demand, Why boats and fh?ps require the artift's hand ? Why generous Nature did not thefe provide To pate the {landing lake, or flowing tide ?

You fay the hills, which high in air arife, Harbour in clouds, and mingle with the ikies, The earth's difhonour and encumbering load, -\ Of many fpacious regions man defraud, t

For beafts and birds of prey a delolate abode. \ But can th' objedlor no convenience find -|

In 'mountains, hills, and rocks, which gird and/ bind f*

The mighty frame, that elfe would be disjoin'd ? j Do n^t thofe heaps the raging tide reftrain, And for the dome afford the marble vein ? Does not the river from the mountain flow, And bring down riches to the vale below ? See how the torrent rolls the golden fand From the high ridges to the flater land. The lofty lines abound with endlefs {lore Of mineral treafure, and metallic ore ; With precious veins of filver, copper, tin, Without how barren, y how rich within ! They bear the pine, the oak and cedar yield, To form the palace, and the navy build.

When the inclement meteors you accufe. And afk if gracious God would ftorms produce ; You ne'er reflect, that by the driving wind The air fromLnoxious vapours is refin'd; Freed from the putrid feeds of pain and death, That living creatures might not, by their breath, Through their warm veins, inftead of vital food, Difperfe contagion, and corrupt their blood. Without the wind, the fhip were made in vain,*y Adventurous merchants could not crofs the/ main, r"

Nor fever'd realms their gainful trade maintain.J

Then with this wife reflection you difturb Your anxious thought, that our terrcftrial orb In many parts is not by man poffeft, With too much heat, or too much cold, oppreft. But in miftake you this objection found : iJnnumber'd ifles and fpacious traces of ground, Which feel the fcorching fun's direcler beam, And did to you inheritable feem, With tawny nations, or with black, abound, With noble rivers lav'd, with plenty crewn'd ; And regions too from the bright orb remote Are peopled, which you unfic<jutm?tf t

But conld Lucretius on the fun reflet, His proper diftancc from the earth refpect, Obferve his conftant road, his equal pace, His round diurnal, and his annual race ; Could he regard the nature of the light, J

Its beauteous luftre, and its rapid flight, And its relation to the fenfe of fight; ; j|

Could he to all thefe miracles advert, And not in all perceive one ftroke of art ? Grant, that the motions of the fun are fuch, That fome have Hght too little, fome too much : Grant, that in different tracts he might have roH'd, And given each clime more equal heat and cold i Yet view the revolutions, as they are, Does there no wifdom, no defign appear ? Could any but a knowing, prudent Cauie Begin fuch motions, and affign fuch laws ? If the Great Mind had form'd a different frame a Might not your wanton wit the fyftem blame ? Though here you all perfection fhould not find, Yet is it all th' Eternal Will defign'd : It is a finifh'd world, and perfect in its kind. Not that its regions every charm include, With which celeftial empires are endued ; Nor is confummate goodnefs here conferr'd, If we perfection abfolute regard ; But what's before afierted, we repeat, Of the vaft whole it is a part complete.

But fince you are difpleas'd the partial fur^ Is not indulgent to the frigid zone ; Suppofe more funs in proper orbits roll'd, Diffolv'd the fnows, and chas'd the polar cold Or grant that this revolv'd in fuch a way, As equal heat to all he might convey, And give the diftant poles their fharc of day ; Obfervfc how prudent Nature's icy hoard, With all her nitrous ftores, would be dcvour'd ; Then would unbalanc'd heat licentious reign, Crack the dry hill, and chap the ruffet plain ; Her moifture all exhal'd, the cleaving earth Would yield no fruit, and bear no verdant birth.

You of the pools and fpacious lakes complain,^ And of the liquid defer ts of the main, As hurtful thefe, or ufelefs, you arraign. j,

Betides the pleafure which the lakes afford, Are not their waves with fifh delicious ftor'd ? Does not the wide capacious deep the flcy With dewy clouds, the earth with rain, fupply ? Do not the rivers, which the valley lave, Creep through the fecret fiibterranean cave, And to the hills convey the refluent wave ? You then mufl own, the earth the ocean needs, Which thus the lake recruits, the fountain feeds*

The noxious plant, and favage animal, Which you the earth's reproach and blemifh cal! } Are ufeful various ways ; if not for food, For manufactures or for medicine good. Thus we repel with reafon, not evade, The bold objections by Lucretius made.

Pyrrhonians next, of like ambitious aim, Wanton of wit, and panting after fame, Who drove to fink the fects of chief renown. And on their ruin'd fchools to raife their own Boldly prefum'd, with rhetorician pride, Tc hold of any quefllon cither fide,

CREATION.

oppreit. life divine, ^ 1*8 line, f

lent life, like f

They thought, in every fubject of debate, In either fcale the proof of equal weight.

Afk, if a God exiftent they allow ? The vain declaimers will attempt to fhow, That, whether you renounce him, or affert, There's no fuperior proof on either part. Suppofe a God, we muft, fay they, conclude He lives ; if fo, he is with fenfe endued ; And, if with fenfe endued, may pain perceive, And what can fuffer pain may ccafe to live.

Pyrrhonians, we a living God adore, An unexhausted fpring of vital power ; But his immortal, uncreated life No torment feels, and no deflructive grief. Does he by different organs tafte or hear ? Or by an eye do things to him appear ? Has he a mufcle, or extended nerve, Which to impart or pain or pleafure fervc ? Of all perfection poflible poffeft, He finds no want, nor is with woe oppreft. Though we can ne'er explore the life divine, And found the hlelt abyfe by reafon's line. Yet 'tis not, mortal man, a tranficnt thine.

Others, to whom the whole mechanic tribe With an harmonious fympathy fubfcribe, Nature with empire uruverfal crown, And this high queen the world's Creator own. If you what builder rear'd the world demand, They fay 'twas done by Nature's powerful hand ; If whence its order and its beauty rofe, Nature, they fay, did fo the frame difpofe ; Jf what its iteady motions does maintain, And holds of caufes and effects the chaio, O'er all her works this Sovereign Caufc prefides, Upholds the orbs, and all their motions guides. Since to her bounty we fuch bleffings owe, Our generous Benefactor let us know. When the word Nature you exprefs, declare, Form'd in your minds what image does appear ? Can you that term of doubtful found explain I Show it no idle offspring of the brain ?

Sometimes by Nature your enlighten'd fchool Intends of things the unirerfal whole ; Sometimes it is the order, that connects, And holds the chain of caufes and effects : Sometimes it is the manner and the way, In which thoie caufes do their force convey, And in effects their energy difplay. That (he's the work itfelf, you oft affert, AS oft th' artificer, as oft the art ; That is, that we may Nature clearly trace, And by her marks diftinctly know her face ; She's now the building, now the architect, And now the rule which does his hand direct.

But let this emprefs be whatc'er you plwfe $ Let her be all e>r any one of thefe ; She is with reafon, or fhe's not, endu'd ! If you the firft affirm, we thence conclude A God, whofe being you oppofe, you grant : But if this mighty queen does reafon want, HOW could this noble fabric be defign'd, And fafliion'd by a Maker brute and blind ? Could it of art fuch miracles invent, And raife a beauteous wurld cf fad* extent .'

Still at the helm does this dark pilot (land,

And with a fteady, never-erring hand,

Steer all the floating worlds, and their fet courfe

command ?

That clearer ftrokes of mafterly defign, Of wife contrivance, and of judgment, fhine In all the parts of Nature, we affert, Than in the brighteft works of human art : And (hall not thofe be judg'd th' effect of thought. As well as thefe with (kill inferior wrought ? Let fuch a fphcre to India be convey'd, A Archimede or modern Hugens made ; Will not the Indian, though untaught and rude, This work th' effect of wife defign conclude I Is there fuch {kill in imitation fhown ? And in the things, we imitate, is, none ? Are not our arts, by artful Nature taught, With pain and careful obfervation fought ?

Behold the painter, who with Nature viess See his whole fowl exerted in his eyes ! He views her various fcenes, intent to trace The mafter lines, that form her finifh'd face t Are thought and conduct in the copy clear. While none in all th' original appear ?

Tell us, what mafter, for mechanics fam'd, Has one machine fo admirably fram'd, Where you will art in fuch perfection grant. As in a living creature or a plant ? j

Declare, what curious workmanihip can vie Or with a hand or foot, an ear, or eye ? That can for (kill as much applaufe deferve, I

As the fine texture of the fibrous nerve ; Or the (tupendous fyftcrn^ which contains Th' arterial channels, or the winding vci&s 2 What artificial frame, what instrument, Did one fuperior genius yet invent, Which to the bones or mufcles is preferr'd, If you their order, form, or ufe, regard ? Why then to works of nature is affigu'd "V

An Author unintelligent and blind, f

When ours proceed from choice and confdutis ^ mind ? ^

To this you fay, that Nature's are indeed Moft artful works, but then they ne'er proceed From Nature acting with defign and art, Who, void of choice, her vigour does exert ; And by unguided motion things produce, Regardjefs of their order, end, or ufc. By Tally's mouth thus Cotta does difpute, But thus, with cafe, the Roman we confute.

Say, if in artful things no art is fhown, What arc the certain marks, that make it known \ How will you artful from unartful bound, And not th' ideas in our mind confound ? Than this no truth difplays before our fight A brighter beam, or more convincing Jight ; That fkilful works fuppofe a flcilful Caufe, Which acts by choice, and move* by pruden

laws.

Where you, unlefs you are as matter blind. Conduct and beauteous difpofition nd, Confpiring order, fitnefs, harmony, Ufe, and convenience ; will you not agree That fuch effects could not be undefign'd, Nor could proceed but from a knowing mind J

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORS.

Old fyftems you may try, or new ones raife, 3VIay (hift and wind, and plot a thoufand ways; 3VIay various words, and foims of diction ufe, And with a different cant th' unjudging ear a-

mufe ;

Yor may affirm, that chance did things create, Or let it nature be, or be it fare ; Body alone, inert and brute, you'll find, The caufe of all things is by you affign'd. And. after all your fruitlels toil if you A Caufe di 'incT: from matter will allow, It r> uft be confcious, not like matter blind, And fhpw yivine Belief, Attempts religion's fences to fubvert, Strong in his rage, but deftitute of art : In impious maxims fix'd, he Heaven defy'd, An unbelieving, anti- martyr dy'd. Strange, that an atheift pleafure ihould refufe, 3lelinquifh life, and death in torment choofe 1 Of fcience what a defpicable fhare Vaninus own'd, his publifh'd dreams declare. JLet impious wits applaud a godlef; mind, As tyeft with piercing fight, and fenfe refin'd, Contriv'd and wrought by Nature'* careful hand, All the proud fchools of learning to command ; !Let them pronounce each patron of their caufe Claims by diftinguifiVd merit juft applaufe ; "Yet I this writer's want of fenfe. arraign, }

Treat all his empty pages with difdain, >

And think a grave reply mif-fpent and vain : j To borrow light, his error to amend, I would the atheift to Vaninus fend

At length Britannia's foil, immortal (name \ ^Brought forth a iage of celebrated name, Who with contempt on blcft religion trod, jVIock'd all her precepts, and renonnc'd his God. jtis awful (hades and horrors of the night Difturb the mother, and the child affright ; "Who fee dire fpedtres through the gloomy air *) In threatening forms advance, and fhudderingf hear fdefpair . f

The groans of wandering ghofts, and yellings of 3 Ifrom the fame fpring, he fays, devotion flows, Conference of guilt from dread of vengeance rofe ; llcligi' n is the creature of the fpleen, Anci troubled fancy forms the world unfeen ; That timorous minds, with felf-tormenting care, Create thofe awful phantoms which they fear.

Such arms were us'd by impious chiefs of old, "Vain as this modern hero, and as bold. "Who would not this philofopher adore, for finding worlds dilcover'd long before I Can he one flower in all hi:- garden fhow, "Which in his Grecian mailer's did not grow 2 And yet, imperious, with' a ^eacher's air, Boaftful, he claims a right to wifdom's chair; Gafping with ardenr thirft of falfe renown, "J "Wrh Gi ecian wreaths he does his temples crown, / .Triumphs \vith borr^w'd fpoils, and trophies not f" his own j

The world, he grants, with clouds was over-

fp r ead ; rujh ne'er 'erected yet her ftarry head.

Till he, bright geniut, rofe to chafe the night, And through all nature {hone with new-fprun^ light.

But let th' inquirer know, proud Briton 1 why Hope ftiould not gods, as well as fear fupply ; D :es not th' idea of a God include The notion of beneficent and good ; Of one to mercy, not revenge, inclin'd, Able and willing to rtjieve mankind? And does not this idea more appear The object of our hope, than of <.>ur fear ? Then tell us, why this paffion, more than that. Should build their altars, and the gods create?

But let us grant the weak and timorous mind To fuperftitious terrors is inclin'd ; That horrid fcenes, and monfters form'd in air, By night the children and the mother fcare ; That appariti -ns, by a fever bred, Oi by the ffleen's black vapours fill the head; Does i hat affedt the fage of fenfe refin'd, Whofe body's healthful, and ferene his mind ? Yet more, infulting Briton I let us try Your reafon's force, your arguments apply. You fay, fince fpedres from the fancy flow, To timorous fancy gods their being owe; Since phantoms to the weak feem real things, Religion from miftake and weaknefs fprings.

But though the vulgar have illufions feen, Thought objedls were without that were with*

in;

Yet we from hence abfurdly (hould conclude, All objects of the mind the mind delude : That our ideas idle are, that none Were ever real, and that nothing's known,.

But, leaving phantoms and illufive fear, Let us at reafon's judgment-feat appear ; There let the queftion be feverely try'd ; By an impartial fentence we abide : Th' Jiternaj Mind's exiftence we fuftain, By proofs fo full, by evidence fo plain, That none of all the fciences haVe fliown Such demonftration of the truths they own.

Spinofa next, to hide his black defign, And to his fide th' unwary to incline, For heaven his enfigns treacherous difplays, Declares for God, while be that God betrays ; For whom he's pleas'd fuch evidence to bring, As faves the name, while it fubyerts the thing.

Now hear his labour'd fcheme of impious ufe : No fubftance can another e'er produce ; Subftance no limit, no confinement, knows, And its exiftence from its nature flows, ; The fpbftance of the univerfe is one, Which is the felf-exiftent God alone. The fpheres of sether, which the world enclofe, An^ all th' apartments, which the whole com-

pofe ;

The lucid orbs, the earth, the air, the main, With every different being they contain, Are one prodigious aggregated God, Of whom each fand is part, each ftone and cloJ ; Supreme perfections in each infeifl fiiine, Each fbrub is facred, and each weed divine.

Sages, no longer Egypt's fons defpife, For thpir cheap gpds, and f^voury d,eit;e^ 1

G R E A T I O N.

No more their coarfe divinities revile ! To \cek-s to onions to the crocodile, You might your humble adorations pay, Were you not gods y^urfelves, as well as they.

As murh you pull religion'* altars down, By owning all things God., as owning none ;

For frould all beings be alike divine, Of worfhip if an object you aflign, God to himtelf muft veneration fhew, Muft be the idol and the votary too ; And their affertions are alike abfurd, Who own no God, or none to be adcr'd.

BOOK IV.

Tie Argument.

The introduction. No man happy, that has not conquered the fears of death. The inability of the Epicurean fchemc to accomplifh that end. Religion only capable of fubduing thofe fears. The hypothefis of Epicurus concerning the formarion of the univerfe fhown to he abiurd. I. In a more general furvey of the parts of the univerfe. II. By a more clofe and drift examination of his fcheme. The principle of motion not accounted for by that fcheme ; nor the determination of it one way* Pondus, gravity, innate mobility, words without a meaning Defcent of atoms; up-' wards and downwards, a middle or centre abfurdly afferted by Epicurus in infinite fpace. His hy pothefis not to be fupported, whether his matter be fuppofed finite or infinite. His ridiculous afler- tion relating t<> the diurnal and annual motion of the fun. The impoffibility of forming the World by the cafual concourfe of atoms. They could never meet if they moved with equal fpeed. Pri mitive atoms, being the fmalleft parts of matter, would move more flowly than bodies of greater bulk, which have more gravity, yet thefe are abfurdly fuppofed to move the fwifreft. His afler- tion, that fome primitive atoms have a direct, and others an inclining motion, implies a contra diction. Lucretius'* explanation of this inclining motion of fome firft atoms not intelligible. The inexplicable difficulty of (lopping the atoms in their flight, and caufmg them to fettle in a formed world. The ponderous earth not to be fuftained in liquid air. The Epicurean formation of the heavens very ridiculous. No account given by the Epicureans how the fun and ftars are upheld in. fluid aether. Their idle account of the formation of the air. The variety of figure and fize given by Epicurus to his atoms, a convincing proof of wifdom and defign. Another proof is the difpro- portion of the moift and dry atoms in the formation of the earth. His ludicrous and childifh ac count of the formation of the hollow for the fea. No account given by Epicurus, or his followers, of the motion of the heavenly orbs, particularly of the fun.

CARUS, we grant, no man is bleft, but he Whofe mind from anxious thoughts ef death is

free.

Let laurel wreaths the vidtor's brows adorn, Sublime through gazing throngs in triumph borne ; Let acclamations ring around the ikies, While curling clouds of balmy incenfe rife ; Let fpoils immenfe, let trophies gain'd in war, And conquer'd kings, attend his rolling car; If dread of death, ftill unfubdu'd remains, And fecret o'er the vanquifh'd vidlor reigns ; Th' illuftiious flave in endlefs thraldom bears A heavier chain than his led captive wears.

With f wifteft wing, the fears of future fate Elude the guards, and pafs the palace gate; Traverfe the lofty rooms, and uncontroll'd "} Fly hovering round the painted roofs, and bold / To the rich arras cling, and perch on bufts of T

gold; J

Familiar horrors haunt the monarch's head, And thoughts ill-boding from the downy bed Chafe gentle flcep ; black cares the foul infeft, And brordcf'd ftars adorn a troubled breaft :

In vain they aflc the charming lyre, in vain The flatterer's fweeter voice, to lull their pain ; Riot and wine but for a moment pleafe ; Delights they oft enjoy, but never cafe.

What are diftinction, honour, wealth, and ftate, The pomp of courts, the triumphs of the great ; The numerous troops, that envy'd thrones fe-

cure,

And fplendid enfigns of imperial power ? What the high-paJace, rear'd with vaft expencc, Unrivall'd art, and luxury immenfe, With ftatutes grac'd by ancient Greece fupply'd, With more than Perfian wealth, and Tyrian pride? What are the foods of all delicious kinds, Which now the huntfman, now the fowler, finds ; The richeft wines, which Gallia's happy field, Which Tufcan hills, or thine, Iberia, yield?

Nature deprav'd abundance does purfue ; Her firft and pure demands are cheap and few. What health promotes, and gives unenvy'd peace, Is all expencelefs, and procur'd with eafe. Behold the fhepherd, fee th' induftrious fwain, Who ploughs the field, or reaps the r*j>en'd

THE WO'RKS OF BtACKMQRE.

mean, and yet how tafleful is their fare ! fwect their fleep ! their fouls how free from

care!

They drink the dreaming cryftal, and efcape Th' inflaming juices of the purple grape ; And, to pr-oretl their limbs from rigorous air, -Garments, their own domeftic work, they wear : Yet thoughts of death their lonely cots moleft, Affright the hind, and bjeak the labourer's reft.

Since thefc -reflections. on approaching fate Diftruft and ill-prefaging care create; While fears of death whhin infukkng reign. But then Lucretian wits abfurdly frame, To'fink thcfe inbred fears, their impious fchemer iTo chafe the horrors of a confcious mind, They defpcratc means and wild expedients Jfind ; The hardy rebels aiming to appeafe Their fierce remorfe, and dream a while at cafe, Of crying guilt th' avenging power difown, And puil their high Creator from his throne ; That done, they mock the threats of future paio, As monftrous fiction of the poet's brain.
 * Tis clear we ftrive for happinefs in vain,

Thy force alone, Religion ! Death difarms, Breaks all his darts, and every viper charms ; Soften'd by thee, the grifly form appears Io more the horrid object of our lears ; "We undifmay'd this awful power obey, {way, That guides us through the fafe, though gloomy "Which leads to life, and to the bled abode, \Vhere ravHh'd minds enjoy, what here they own'd,

a God.

Regard, ye fages of .Lucretian race, Nature's rich drefs, behold her lovely face. . Look all around, terreftrial realms furvey, The ifles, the rivers, and the fpacious lea ; Obferve the air, view with attentive eyes "\

The glorious concave of the vaulted Ikies ; /

Could thefe from cafual hits, from tumult thofe, f arife i .)

Can rule and beauty from diftraclion grow ? Can fymmetry from wild confufion flow? "When atoms in th' unmeafur'd Ipace did rove, And in the dark for doubtful empire ftrove ; Did intervening chance the feuds compofe, Eftablifh friendfhip, and difarm the foes ? Did this the ancient darkfome horrors chafe, "> Diftin<Slion give, and fpread celeftial grace V O'er the black diftri&s of the empty fpace ? j Could atoms, which, with undire<fted flight, Hoani'd through the void, and rang'd the realms

of night,

Of reafon deftitute, without intent, Depriv'd of choice, and mindlefs of event, In order march, and to their pofts advance^ JLed by no guide, but undefigning chance ? . What did th' entangled particles divide, And fort the various feeds of things ally'd ? To make primaeval elements felcct All the fit atoms, and th' unfit reject ? piftinguifti hot from cold, and moift from dry, IRange fome to form the earth, and fome the fky ? From the embrace, and gloomy arms, of night, What freed the glimmcrujg fire, and difengag'd the light ?

Could chanoeCuch juft and prudent meafures take? To frame the world, fuch diftribution make ? If to your builder you will conduct give, A power to choofe, to manage, and contrive, Your idol chance, fuppos'd inert and blind, Muft be inroll'd an active confcious mind. Did this your wife and iovereign architect Defign the model, and the world erect ? Were by her fkill the deep foundations laid, The grobes fufpended, and the heavens difplay'd ? By what elaftic engines did fhe rear The ftarry roof, and roll the orbs in air ? ,Gn the formation of the earth reflect ; -Is this a blind fortuitous cfFeil? Did all the grofler atoms, at the call Of chance, file off, to form the ponderous ball, And undetermin'd into order fall? Did of themfelves th' affembled feeds arrive, And without art this artful frame contrive ? To build the earth, did chance materials choofe, And thro.ugh ihe parts cementing glue diffufe ; - Adjuft the frontier of the fea and foil, Balance and hang in air the finifh'd pile ? Ye towering hills, whofe fnowy peaks arife Above the clouds, and winter in the flcies; Ye rocks, which on the fhores your heads aeU

vance ;

Are you the labour and the care of chance ? To draw up ftones of fuch prodigious weight, And raife the amazing heaps to fuch a height, What huge machine, what forceful inftrumcnt^ Did your blind builder of the world iavent ? Could it diftinguifh, could it wall around The damp and dark apartments undej ground ;, With rocky arches vault the hollow caves, And form the tracks of fubterranean waves; Extend the different mineral veins, and fpread For rich metallic ores the genial bed ?

What could prepare the gulfs to entertain Between their (bores the interpofing main ; Disjoin the land, the various realms divide, And fpread with fcatt^r'd ifles th' extended tide ? Regard th' unnumber'd wonders of the deep, Where confluent ftreams, their race completed,

fleep :

Did chance the compafs take, and in the dark The wide dimenfions of the ocean mark ; Then dig the ample cave, and ftretch the fhoret Whofe winding arms confine the liquid ftores, Which, gufhing from the mountain to the main, Through verdant vallics draw their humid train f Did it dtfign the deep abyfs., and fpread The ancient waters on their central bed ? To the wild flood did fovercign fortune fay, Thus far advance, and here thy billows ftay; Be this thy barrier, this enclofing fand *\

Thoa fhalt not pafs, nor overflow the land ? C And do the waves revere her high command ? j

Did chemic chance the furnaces prepare, Raife all the labour-houfes of the air, And lay crude vapours in digeftion there ; Where nature is employ'd, with wondrous fkill, To draw her Ipirits, and her drops diftil; Meteors for various purpofes to form, The breeze to cheer, to tenify th? ftorm?

CREATION.

Did fhe extend the glcomy clouds on high, Where all th' amazing fireworks of the iky In unconcocted feeds fermenting lie, Till the imprifon'd flames are ripe for birth, And ruddy bolts exploded wound the earth ? What ready hand applies the kindled match, Which evening trains of unctuous vapours catch ? Whence /hoots with lambent flight the falling

ftar,

And flames unhurtful hovering dance in air ? What curiousloom does chance by evening fpread ?*^ With what fine (buttle weave the virgin's thread, f Which, like the fpider's net, hangi on the grafly f mead ? J

Let us the moulds to faftuon meteors know, How thefe produce the hail, and thofe the fnow ? What gave the exhalations wings to rife, To leave their centre, and poflefs the ikies ?

Let us no longer mifllve weapons throw, But clofe the fight, and grapple with the foe ; Submit to reafon's ftricteft teft their fcheme, And by mechanic laws purfue the huddled frame. See, how th' ambitious architects defign : To rear the world without the power divine, As principles, the great contrivers place Unbounded matter in unbounded fpace : Matter was firft, in parts minute, endued With various figures, various magnitude | Some, moving in the fpacious infinite, Defcribe a line oblique, and fome a right ; For, did not fome from a ftrait courfe deficit, They could not meet, they could no world erect : While unfatipued from cndlefs ages paft, They rang'd the dark interminable wafte, Oft' dafhing and rencountering in their flight, Some atoms leap afide, and fome upright ; They various ways recoil, and fwiftly flow By mutual repercuflions to and fro, Till, fliufflcd and entangled in their race, They clafp each other with a clofe embrace ; Combin'd by concourfe, mingled and compreft, They grow in bulk, and complicated reft. Hence did the world and all its parts arife ! Hence the bright fun and ftars, and hence the

ikies!

Hence fprung the air, the ocean, and the earth ! And hence all nature had its cafual birth !

If you demand what wife directing mind The wondrous platform of the world dcfign'd ; Did range, divide, and in their order place, The crude materials of th' unfafhion'd mafs ; Did move, direct, and all the parts control, With perfect (kill, to ferve the beauteous whole ; Fortune to this high honour they advance, And no furveyor want, no guide, but chance.

Lucretian mailers, now to make it plain In building worlds how raw you are, and vain ; Grant that before this mighty frame was rear'd, Before confufion fled, and light appear'd, In the dark void and empty realms of night Your reftlefs atoms did purfue their flight; And iu their adverfe paths, and wild career, By chance rencounter, and by chance cohere ; Thus clafp'd in ftrict embraces, they produce Unnutnbej'd cafual forms foj different ufe ;

You, who to clearer reafon maJce pretence,

Of wit refin'd, and eminent in fenfe,

Let us, ye fons of Epicurus, know

The fpring, whence all thefe various motions flow.

What vigour puih'd primzval atoms on ?

Was it a foreign impulie, or their own ?

If 'twas a foreign delegated force, [courfe;

Which mov'd thofe bodies, and control'd their

Aflerting this, you your own fcheme deftroy,

And power divine, to form the world, employ.

If from a moving principle within

Your active atoms did' their flight begin,

That fpring, that moving principle explain,

And in the fchools unrivall'd you ihail reign ;

Declare its nature, and aifign its name ;

For motion, and its caufe, are not the fame.

We know, you'll tell us, 'tis impulfive weighty Mobility, or power to move innate : Profound folution ! worthy of your fchools, Where reafon in its boafted freedom rules. But thus you mock mankind, and language ufc, Not to inform the mind, but to amufe. Of motion we the principle demand ; You fay 'tis power to move, and there you ftand I Bat is it to explain, to change the name ? Is not the doubt in different words the fame ? Do you reveal the fpring of motion more, By wifely calling that a moving power, Which we had term'd a principle before ? The youngeft head new-vers'd in reafoning know* That motion nauft a power to move fuppofe ; Which while in vain you labour to unfold, You clearly tell us, that Lucretians hold An a&ive fpring, a principle approve, Diftinct from matter, which muft matter move. Matter, as fuch, abftracted in the mind, We from a power to move diverted find, Not more to motion than to reft inclin'd ; The power, which motion does to matter give, W,e therefore moft diftinct from both conceive; A power to nature given by Nature's Lord, When firft he fpoke the high creating word, When for his world materials he prepar'd, And on each part this energy conferr'd.

Ye vain philofophers ! prefumptuous race \ Who would the Great Eternal Mind difplace ; Take from the world its Maker, and advance To his high throne your thoughtlefs idol chance 5 Let us th' inquiry by juft fteps purfue ; With motion we your atoms will endue, We aik, when in the fpacious void they ftray, Why ftill they beat one track, and move OEC

way?

Still the fame flight why do their parties take ? Why this, or that way, no digreiCon make I

What will to this our Atomifts reply ? They anfwer, by an innate gravity The ponderous bodies ftjll are downward bqrnCj And never upwards of themfelves return. Acute and folid anfwer ! fee a flight, Worthy of fineft wit, and cleareft fight ! Do not thefe wife mechanic mailers know, That no man can conceive, or high oriow 3 Nor find diftinction of fuperior place, Or cf inferior, in the empty fpacc

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

leyf

Uncircumferib'd, and ignorant of bound, And where no midft, no centre, can be found ?

Perhaps, your mafter's doctrine to fuftain, And matter's downward motion to explain, You with this famous Gallic friend affert, That isfuj-i-rior, whence your atoms ftart, And that inferior in the empty fpace To which they all direct tru ir rapid race.

Now let us recoiled, and what you fay At large, in one contracted view furvey. You fay, your atoms move ; we afk you, why ? Becaufe it is their nature, yt,u reply. But fince that native power yc u never fhow, You only fay they move, becaufc they do ; But let your atorss move, we bid you fay, Why they move this, and not a different way ? You tell us, 'tis from inbred gravity; That is, you tell us, 'tis yojj knuw not why. Till what is gravity you let us know, By fenf clefs woi-ds how can we wifer gxow ? We give you this ingenite, moving force, That makes them always downward take their

oburfe ;

We then demand, which place inferior is Within the fyacious unconfin'd abyfs ? You fay 'tis that, to which the atoms bend Their iwift career, for ftill they muft defcend That is, they downward move, becaufe they downward tend.

Let us, Lucretians, now our tafic purfue, And of your fcheme remaining wondcra view. Say, if your atoms of immortal race Are equal and commenfurate to fpace : If fo, the boundlefs vait immenfity While thus poffeft would full of matter be ; For in the vacant (as your fchools approve) Should finite matter be fuppos'd to move, Not knowing how to flop, or where to ftay, It unobftructed muft purfue its way, Be loft in void immenfe, and diflipated ftray ; The fcattering bodies never would combine, Nor to compofe a world by concourfe join, But, if all fpace is full, if all poffeft, Which fuppofition you embrace as beft, Then crowded matter would for ever reft ; Nature no change of place had ever feen ; Where all is full, no motion can begin ; JFor, if it fhould, you'll be compeli'd to fay, Body does body pierce, to force its way ; Or unconfia'd immenfity retreats, To give your atoms room to change their feats. And here with us Lucretius does agree, That, if fome place from matter be not free, In plenitude no motion could commence, All would be ftagnate in the vaft immenfe.

If it be fa id, f-, all parts of empty fpace Are inteifpers'd through all the ipreading mafs, By which ieme bodies give to culiers place ; Then matter, you muft giant, would finite be, And ftretch unequal toin.nunfny; And then, a*> hpicurus judges rh;ht, It would for ever take a uieiefs iiight, Loft in expanfion void and infinite. Befides, allowing through th' extended whole Small fcatterM (paces not of body full,

Then matter, you Lucretians muft agree, Has not exiftence from neceffity; For, if its being neceflary were, Why are fome parts of fpace from matter clear ? Why does it here exift, and why not there ? Lucretians, now, which fide you pleafe, em brace :

If in your void you finite fubftance place, Tis difiipated through th' immenfe abyfs, And you to form the world materials mifs ; You'll not the progrefs of your atoms ftay, Nor to collect the vagrants find a way. Thus too your mafter's fcheme will be deftroy'd, } Who, wholly to poffefs the boundlefs void, C

No lefs than matter infinite employ'd. j

If you, in honour to your founder's (kill, The boundlefs void with boundlefs fubftance fill, Then tell us, how you can your bodies roll Through fpace, of matter fo completely full ? The force this fingle reafon does exert Will the foundations of your fcheme fubvert: Nor were it needful to purfue the blow, Or form a frefh attack, unlefs to (how How flight yotr works in every quarter are, How ill your huddled fentiments cohere.

Be this, O Greece, thy everlafting fhame, That thoughtlefs Epicurus rais'd a name, Who built by artlefs chance this mighty frame. Could one whofe wit fuch narrow limits bound, Nature, thy depths unfathomable found ? Of his fagacious thoughts to give a part, Docs not this wife philofopher affert The radiant fun's extinguifh'd every nighf, And every morn, rekindled, darts his light ? That the vaft orb, which cafts fo far his beams, Is fuch, or not, much bigger, than he feems ? That the dimenfions of his glorious face Two geometric feet do fcarce furpafs ? Does he not make the fickle winds convey The fun revolving through his crooked way ? But, fince his ichool has gain'd fuch fpreadinj

fame,

And modern wits his mafter-fkill proclaim ; Let us yet farther carry this debate, Acid, as you afk, confer on matter weight, To make it move within the vaft abyfs, And downward too, ev'n where no downward is> If this be true, as you Lucretians fay, J hat atoms wing with equal fpeed their way, Then how could this that atom overtake ? How could they clafh, and how collifions make ? If in a line oblique your bodies rove, Or in a perpendicular they move, If fome advance /not flower in their race, And fome more fwift fhould not purfue thei

chafe,

How could they be entangled, how embrace ? _ 'Tis demonftration, 'tis meridian light, Thofe bodies ne'er could juftle, ne'er could figbt, Nor by their mutual fhocks be ruffled in their |

flight.

Since matter of a greater magnitude Muft be with greater gravity endued, Then the mmuteft parts muft ftill proceed With lefs, the greater with the greater

CREATION,

621

Hence your firft bodies, which the fmalleft are, On which the fwifteft motion you confer, Mud be contented with the floweft pace, And yield to matter of more bulk the race.

How wondrous little muft thofe atoms be, Which you endow with fuch velocity ! Minute beyond conception, when we find Bodies fo fmall, where many are combin'd ! How many various figures muft we take, What numerous complications ufe, to make Some compound things, fo fmall of magnitude, That all our fenfes they with eafe elude !

JLight exhalations, that from earth arife, Attracted by the fun-beams through the fkies, Which the myfterious feeds of thunder bear, Of winds, and all the meteors of the air; Though they around us take their conftant flight, Their little fize efcapes the (harped fight. The fragrant vapours breath'd from rich per fumes,

From Indian fpices, and Arabian gums, Though many years they flow, will fcarce abate The odoriferous body's bulk or weight.

Though antimonial cups, prepar'd with art, Their force to wine through ages fliould impart ; This difllpation, this profufe expence, Nor fhrinks their fize, nor waftes their (lores

immenfe.

The powder which deftructive guns explode, And by its force their hollow wombs unload, When rarefy'd of fpace, poflefles more, Five hundred times, than what it fill'd before. The feeds of fern, which, by prolific heat Cheer'd and unfolded, form a plant fo great, Are lefs a thoufand times than what the eye Can unafiifted by the tube delcry. By glaiTes aided, we in liquor fee Some living things minute to that degree, That a prodigious number muft unite, To make the fmalleft object of the fight.

How little bodies mull the light compound, Which by your mailers is corporeal ownM ; Since the vaft deluge of refulgent rays, ">

Which in a day the fun a thouiand ways >

Through his wide empire lavifhiy conveys, J Were they collected in one folid mafs, Might not in weight a fingle drachm furpafs !

At leaft thofc atoms wondrous fmall muft be, Small to an unconceivable degree ; Since though thefe radiant fpoils, difpers'd in air, Do ne'er return, and ne'er the fun repair, Yet the bright orb, whence ftill new torrents flow, Does no apparent lofs, no diminution know. Now, curious wits, who nature's work infpect With rapture, with aftonifhment, reflect On the fmall fize of atoms, which unite To make the fmalleft particle of light 1 Then how minute primaeval atoms are, From this account Lucretians may infer : Yet they on thefe, without regard to right, Confer the honour of the quickeft flight.

Within the void, with what a fwift career Your rapid matter moves will thus appear. That all mix'd bodies arc in fpeed outdone y your firft atoms, you with eale will own ;

For componnd beings can no motion have, But what their firft conftituenr atoms gave : Then your primaeval fubftances exceed The fwift-wing'd wind, or fwifter light, in fpeed. How foon the fun-beams at the morning's birth Leap down from heaven, and light upon the earth ! Prodigious flight ! they in few moments pafs The vaft aethereal interpofing fpace. Should you enjoin a rock fo hard a tafk, It would more years, than light will minutes, afk. One atom then (fo you'll be forc'd to fay) Muft rocks and hills and the whole globe out weigh ;

Since it exceeds them by its fwifter flight, And fwifter motion fprings from greater weight.

If nature's rule your atoms do enjoin ->'

To move directly downward in a line ; \.

Say, how can any from that path decline? ^ Th' inclining motion then, which you fuppofe, Whence the firft concourfe of your atoms rofe, Muft the great maxim of your fchools fuhvert, Which ftill with one confederate voice affdrt, That matter by neceffity defccnds In lines direct, yet part obliquely tends. And thus your matter, by its native force, To different points would fteer a different courfe ; Determin'd by the fame impulfive weight, Move in a line oblique, and in a ftraight.

To heal your fyftem's deep and ghaftly wound,. Which this objection gives, Lucretius found A method ; who a motion did invent Not Itraight entirely, nor entirely bent, Which fortns a line to crooked fomewhat like, Slanting almoft, and, as it were, oblique. Who does not now this wondrous bard adore ? See re-ifon's conquering light, and wit's rtfiftlefs power ?

If atoms, after their eternal danc, Into this beauteous fabric leap'd by chance ; If they combin'd by cafnal concourfe; fay, "*\ What, in a free and unobftructed way, Did in a full career your atoms flay ? j

What mounds, what force, when rufliing froivi

the height

Of fpace immenfe, could flop them in their flight? Why in their road did they not forward pafs? But fay, where now we find the fettled maf, Why did they ceafe from moving in defpite Of their own nature, and impelling weight? Had the wife troops fagacity to know, That, there arriv'd, they fliould no further go? That, in this point of all the fpacious void, To form a world they were to be employ'd? Did they, in profpect of fo great a good, In this one place of alt the liquid road, All their encumbering gravity unload ? Fatigued, and fpent with labour infinite. Did they grow torpid, and unapt for flight ? Or, in th' embrace and downy lap of air Lull'd and enchanted, did they fettle there !

Grant in this fingle place by chance they met. That there by chance they did their weight for get ;

It happen'd there they form'd a mighty nnfr, Where ^t DO erder, no diftinction, was:

I.

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

lain, ( lin. j

X,et this be fa ; we aflc you to explain

The wondrous power that did the parts fuftain

JFor flill their nature and their weight remain

What from defcent fhould ponderous matter ftsy,

"When no more ponderous matter flops its way ?

Can airy columns prop the mighty ball,

Its preffure balance, and prevent its fall ?

And after this remains a mighty taflc,

"Which more than human flcill and power will afk,

The flrong myfterious cements to unfold,

"Which atoms ftridly complicated hold.

But let us leave the heap in air's embrace, "^ To reft unmov'd within the empty fpace, f

Which knows no height, or depth, or middle f

place : J

Tell, how you build the chambers of the Iky, Extend the fpheres, and hang the orbs on high ? You fay, when matter firft began to fall, And fettle into this terreftrial ball, Prefs'd from the earth thin exhalations rofe, Vapours and iteams, materials to compofc The fpacious regions of the liquid air, The heavens, and all the luminaries there : Thefe vapours foon (miraculous event !) Shuffled by chance, and mix'd by accident, Into fuch ranks and beauteous order fell, As no effect of wifdom can excel. Hence did the planets, hung in aether, ftray ! Hence rofe the ftars, and hence the milky way ! Hence did the fun along the Ikies advance ! The fource of day but fprung from night and

chance !

But who can (how the legends, that record More idle tales, or fable fo abfurd ? 'Does not your fcheme affront ev'n Vulgar fenfe ; That fpheres of fuch a vaft circumference, That all the orbs, which in the regions roll, Stretching from eaft to weft, from pole to pole, Should their conftru&ure, and their beauty, owe To vapours prefs'd from this poor ball below 1 From this fmall heap could exhalations rife Enough, and fit, to fpread and vault the flcies ? Lucretius thus the manner has difplay'd How meteors, not how heavenly globes, are made. But gfant the fleams, which by expreffion rofe, Pid all the fpheres and every orb compofe ; Since their ingenite gravity remains, What girder binds, what prop the frame faftains ? The fun's bright beams, which you of matter

make, From heaven their downward flight perpetual

take :

Why does not then his body, which outweighs By infinite degrees his golden rays, By its own force precipitated fall, And hide in ruins this terreftrial ball? Can air, unable to fuftain the light, Support the fan of fuch fuperior weight ; And all the ponderous heavenly orbs fufpend Againft their nature, which does downward tend ? Tell, wife Lucretius, tell the fecret art, Which keeps the heavens and earth fo long apart. Thus too the air, prefs'd from this mafs, you

fay, Between the earth and Ikies expanded lay j

Not with intention that the folar light Through the thin gulf might rake an eafy flignij Or that with nitrous food it fhould infpire The breathing lungs, and feed the vital fire; But mere contingence did the gulf extend, Regardlefs of convenience, ufe, or end. Now, vaunting poet! fhould it be confefs'd, That from the earth the air is thus exprefs'd; Siftce things by heavier things are upward thrown, Which tend with ftronger gravitation down ; Why are the fnn, and the fair orbs of light, "> All which fo far exceed the air in weight, V

Hung from the centre at a greater height ? j Why do not thefe their nature's law obey, Rufh frm above, and near the centre flay, And make all lighter bodies give them way ? Tell us, Lucretius, why they ne'er purfue This natural bent, and this undoubted due ? Since to the earth you give the middle place, To which all heavy things direct their race ; If nothing does obftrud, by certain fate Things would in order of their different weight Lie round the earth, and make one mighty heap j They would their place, as different ftrata, keep. Nor would the air, or interceding Iky, Between the diftant orbs and worlds divided lie ; ^Ether and air would claim the highelt place, The ftars and planets would the earth embrace, As now the ocean floats upen its face. In vain you labour by mechanic rules, In vain exhauft the reafon of your fchools, Thefe queftions to refolve, and to explain How feparate worlds were made, and feparate

ftill remain.

Since to your un compounded atoms you Figures in number infinite allow, From which, by various combination, fprings This unconfin'd diverfity of things; Are not, in this, defign and counfel clear? Does not the wife Artificer appear, Who the corporeal particles enduect With different fhape, and different magnitude, That from their mixtures all things might have

birth,

In the wide fea, and air, and heaven, and earth ? To all thefe figures of diftinguifh'd kind, And different fizes, are not ends affign'd ? Then own their caufo did a& with wife intent, Which did thofe fizes fquare, and every fhape in vent.

When atoms fir ft the world began to frame, Is it not ftrange that every number came Of fuch a figure, and of fuch a fize, As ferv'd to found the earth, and fpread the fkic* ? Had they not met in fuch proportion, were Their form and number not as now they are, In a rude mafs they had confus'dly join'd, Not in a finifh'd world, like this, combin'd. Did thefe affembled fubftances refkdt, That here a beauteous frame they muft -ereA ? Did they a general council wifely call, To lay the platform of each mighty ball; To fettle prudent rules, and orders make, In rearing worlds, what methods they fhoul4 take'

CREATION.

To every atom Tfras his taflc enjoln'd ?

His poft, and fellow-labourers, affign'd ?

Did they confent what parts they fhould compofe

That thefe fhould aether make, or water thofe ?

That fome fhould be the moon, arid fome the

earth ?

Thofe give the fun, and thefe the planet birth ? If all thefe noble worlds were undefign'd, And carry 'd on without a confcious mind ; Oh, happy accident ! aufpicious chance ! That in fuch order made the work advance ! , At length to fuch admir'd perfection brought The finifh'd ftructure, as it had been wrought With art tranfcendent and confunjmate thought !

Since 'tis an outrage done to cdmmon fenfc To fix a central point HI fpace immenfe * Why is a middle to the earth affign'd, To which your ponderous bodies are inclin'd ?

Befidcs, reflect how this terreftrial mafs Does the whole fea a thoufand times furpafs ; Which in a line, if drawn directly dow, More than a mile in depth is rarely known. Now if by chance more watery atoms came Than earthy, to compofe this wondrous frame ; Or had they both in equal number met, Which might as well have been, had chance

thought fit ;

Or if the watery (we no farther prefs) Were but an hundred times in number lefs ; This globe had lain, if not a general flood, At Icaft a fen, a mafs of ooze and mud, "With no rich fruit, or verdant beauty, bleft, Wild and unpeopled, or by man, or beaft.

Who will our orb's unequal face explain, Which Epicurus made a41 imootfc and plain ? How did thy rocks, O earth ! thy hills, arife ? "j How did thy giant fong invade the flcies ? Lucretius, that it happen'd thus, replies. j

Now give us leave, great poet, to demand, How the capacious hollow in the land Was firft produc'd, with cafe to entertain All the aflembled waters of the main ? When earth was made, this hollow for the fea Was form'd ; but how it happen'd fo to be ? It on a time fell out, that every wave Forfook the earth, andfill'd the mighty care, Which happen'd opportunely to be there, Where now their heads the rolling billows rear. It then fell out, that Hones did rocks compoie, That vales fubfided, and that hills arofe. Thus the formation of the world you know; 80 all events fell out, and all things happen'd fo.

Can tales more fenielefs, ludkrous, and vain, By winter-fires old nurfes entertain ? Does this unfold how all things firft were madi Without divine and fupernatural aid ? His penetration has Lucretius fhown, By faying things proceed from chance alone As their efficient caufe, that is, from none But let your troops, which rang'd the plains of

night, And through the vacant wing'd their carelefs

flight,

The high command of ruling chance obey, Vnguided and unconfcious of the way,

-,1

Let them advance to one determin'cl place, Prefcrib'd by chance, in all th' unmeafur'd fpacej Their proper ftatioas undirected find, To form a world thar never was defign'd ; Let all the rolling globes, and fpacious ikies, From happy hits of heedlefs atoms rife ; Be thus the earth's unmov'd foundations laid, Thus the thin regions of the air difplay'd ; Chance {hall the planets in their place fufpend. Between thefe worlds th' sethereal plains extend;. Diredt the fun to that convenient feat, Whence he difplays his luftre and his heat. This labour, all this progrefs, is in vain^ Unlefs the orbs their various motions gain : For let the fun in buoyant aether float, Nor nearer to the earth, nor more remote ; Yet did his orb unmov'd its beams diffufe, He'd fure dcftru&ion to the earth produce ; One half for heat, and one for cold, would pray j This would abhor the night, and that the day : Did he not yearly through the zodiac paf, Were he not conflant to his daily race, He would not, by alternate fhade and light, Produce the needful change of day and night : Nor would the various feafons of the year, By turns revolving, rife and difappear. Now can judicious atomifts conceive, Chance to the fun could this jtfft impulfe give, By which the fourcc of day fo fwiftly flies, His ftages keeps, and traverfes the ficiea ! [flow ? We aflc you, whence thefe conftant motions Will learned heads reply, they happened fo ? You fay, the folar orb, firft mov'd by chance, Does north and fouth, and eafl and well, advance!. We aik, why firft in thefe determin'd ways He chofe to move ? Why thence he never ftraysj Why did he ne'er, fince time began, decline His round diurnal, or his annual line ? So fteadily does fickle fortune fleer Th' obedient orb, that it fhould never err; Should never ftart afide, and never ftray ; Never in pathlefs ajther mifs his way ? Why does he ne'er beyond the tropics go ? Why ftill revolve ? why travel to and iro ? Will it a wife philosopher content, >

To fay thefe motions came by accident, That all is undcfign'd, fortuitous event ? j

But if the fluggifh fun you'll not diflurb, But motion give to this terreftrirl orb ; Still of the earth we the fame queftion aflc, Which to explain, you have as hard a taflc.

Can chance this frame, thefe artful fcenes ere&,_ Which knows not works lefs artful to effetft ? Did it mechanic engines e'er produce, A globe, or tube of aftronomk ufe ? Why do not veflels, built and rigg'd by chance, Drawn in long order, on the billows dance ? Might not the Sovereign Caufe with greater eaf A navy build, than make the winds andfeas ? Let atoms once the form of letters take 3y chance, and let thofe huddled letters make A finhVd poem by a lucky hit, Such as the Grecian, or the Mantuan, writ; Then we'll embrace the doctrines you advance And yield the world's fair poem made by chance/

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE,

BOOK V.

'The Argument.

The mtroduaion. A defer! ption of the calamitous ftate of mankind, by reafon of Innumerable woes and fufferings to which they are obnoxious. Difeafes of the body. Trouble and grief of mind Violence and opprefiion. The viciffimde of human affairs, and the certain profpecl of death* Whence it appears that it fuits the itate of mankind* and therefore is defirable, there (hould be a God. Arguments againft the Fatalifb, who aflert the eternity of the world There muft be erant-, fd fome felf-exiftem and independent being. The corporeal world cannot be that being proved from its mutability, and the variety of forms rifing and difappearing in the feveral parts of nature- from the poffibility of conceiving, without any confequent contradiction, lefs or more parts in the world, than are actually exiflent; from the poffibUity of plants and animals having had different ihapes, and limbs, from what they now have. The. pretended fatal chain of things not feif-exiftent acd independent; becaufe all its links or parts are dependent, and obnoxious to corruption. Fate a word without fenfe or meaning. Two more arguments againft the eternity of the world, from the contemplation of the light of the fun, and of motion. Ariftotle's fcheme confidered and con futed.

AH, haplefs mortal man ! ah, rigid fate! What cares attend our fhort, uncertain ftate ! How wide a front, how deep and black a rear, What fad varieties of grief and fear, Drawn in array, exeit their fatal rage, p

And gall obnoxious life through every ftage, > From infancy to youth, from youth to age ! }

Who can compile a roll of all our woes, ? Our friends are faithlefs, and fiucere our foes ; The poifon'd arrows of an envious tongue Improve our errors, and our virtues wrong ; Th' oppreffor now with arbitrary mi^ht Tramples on law, and robs us of our right ; Dangers unfeen on every fide invade, And fnares o'er all th' unfaithful ground are laid.

Oft wounds from foreign violence we feel, Now from the ruffian's, now the warrior's, fteel; By bruifes or by labour we are pain'd ; A bone disjointed, or a finew ftrai'd ; Now fettering fores afflidl our torrur'd limbs ; Now to the yielding heart the gangrene climbs.

Acute diftempers fierce our veins aflail, Rufh on with fury, and by fturm prevail ; Others with thrift difpenie their ftores of grief, And by the fap prolong the fiege of life ; While to the grave we for deliverance cry, And, promis'd ftill, are ftill denied to die.

See colic, gout, and ftone, a cruel train, Qppos'd by all the healing race in vain ; Their various racks and lingering plagues emO P lo 7> f

Relieve each other, and by turns annoy, T

And, tyrant like, torment, but not deftroy. 3 We noxious infects in our bowels feed, Jingender deaths, and dark deftiudlion breed. The fpleen with fallen vapours clouds the brain, And binds the fpirits in its heavy chain :

Hewe'er the caufe fantaftic may appear, Th' effea is real, and the pain tfncere. Hydropic wretches by degrees decay, Growing the more, the more they wafte away; By their own ruins they augmented lie, With thirft and heat amidft a deluge fry: And while in floods of water thefe expire, More fcorching perifh by the fever's fire ; Stretch'd on our downy, yet uneafy beds, We change our pillows, and we raife our heads ; Fix-in fide to fide in vain for reft we turn, With cold we fhiver, or with heat we burn; Of night impatient, we demand the day : The day arrives, and for the night we pray ; The night and day fucceffive come and go, Our lafting pains no interruption know.

Since man is born to fo much woe and care, Muft ftill new terrors dread, new forrows bear ; Does* it not fuit the ftate of human kind, There fhould prefide a good Almighty Mind ; A Caufe Supreme, that might all nature fteer, Avert our danger, and prevent our fear ; Who, when implor'd, might timely fuccour

give,

Solace our anguifh, and our wants relieve ; Father of comfort, mi^ht our fouls fuftain, When preft with grief, and mitigate our pain ?

'Tis certain fomething fr.-m ail ages paft Without beginning was, and Hill will laft ; For if of time one period e'er had been When nothing was, then nothing could begin. That things fhould to themfelves a being give, Reluctant reafon never can conceive. If you affirm, effects themfelves produce, You fhock the mind, and c.mrradidion choofe ; For they, 'tis clear, rnuft adl ard move, before They were in being, or had motive power j

CREATION*,

615

As aive caiifes nr.ifl of right at once Exiftence claim, and as effects renounce. Then fomething is, which no beginning had, A caufelefs caufe, or nothing could Lc made, Which mull by pure necefficy exift, And whofe duration nothing can refift.

Let us.inquire, and fearch by due degrees, ^IVhat, who, this felf-exiftent being is.

Should this material world's capacious frame tJncaus'd and independent being claim ; It would, thus form'd and fafhion'd as we fee, Derive exigence from necefilty, And then to ages unconfin'd muft laft, Without the lead diverfity or waftc. Neceflity, view'd with attentive thought, t)oes plain impoflibihty denote, That things fliould not exift, which adrfal are, Or in another (hape or different modes appear.

But fee in all corporeal nature's fcene, What changes, what diverfities, have been ! Matter not long the fame appearance makfes, \But fliifts her old, and a new figure takes: \f now flic lies in winter's rigid arms, Difhonour'd and defpoil'd of "all her charms, Soft vernul airs will loofe th' unkind embrace, And genial dews renew her wither'd face ; Like fabled nymphs transform'd, ihe's now a t/ee. Now weeps into a flood, and ftreaming feeks the She's now a gaudy fly, before a worm, [fea.

Below a vapour, and above a ftorm ; This oze was late a monftcr of the main* 3

That turf a lowing grazer ot the plain, A lip'n this djd o'er the foreft reign. j

Regard that fair, that branching laurel plant, Behold that loVely blufhing amarant ; One might have William's broken frame affum'd, And one from bright Maria's duft have bloom'd. Thefe (hifting fcenes, thefe quick rotations, fhow' Things from necefiity could never flow, But muft to mrnd and choice precarious being owe.

Let us fuppofe, that Nature ever was Without beginning, and without a caufe ; As her firft order, difpofition, frame, Muft then fubfift unchangeably the fame; So muft our mirtd pronounce, it would not be Within the reach of pofiibility, That e'er the world a being could have had Different from what it is, or could be made Of more or lefs, or other parts than thole Which the corporeal univerfe compofc. Now, Fatalift, we aik,if thofe fubvert Reafon's eftublifh'd maxims, who affert That we the world's exiftence may conceive, Though we one atom out of Nature leave ; Though fome one wandering orb, or twinkling ftar, Were abfent, from the heavens, which now is thete; Though fome one kind of plant, or fly, or worm, No being had, or had another's form ?

And might not other animals arife, Of different figure, and of different fize ? In the wide womb of poflibility J-,ie many things, which ne'er may actual be ; And more productions of a various kind Will caufe no cgmradi&ion in the mind.

VOL. VII.

inn d. low'l


 * ingf

'Tis poflible the things in Nature found,

Might different forms and different parts hive

own'd :

The boar might wear a trunk, the wolf a horn. The peacock's train the bittern might adorn ; Strong tufics might in the node's mouth have

grown, And lions might have fpots, arid Jeopards none.

But, if the world knows no fuperior caufe, Obeys no fovereign's arbitrary laws; If abfolute neccffity maintains Of caufes and effects the fatal chains; What could one motion ftcp, change one event ? It would tranfcehd the wide, the vaft extent, The utmoft ftrelch of poffibility. That things, from what they are.fhould difagrec.

If, to elude this reafoning, you reply, Things what they are, are by neceffity ; Which neVer elfe fo aptly could confpire To ferve the whole, and Nature's ends acquire ; To form the beauty, order, harmony, .Which we through all the works of Nature fee : Ready we this affcrtion will allow, Fpr what can more exalted wifdom fhow ? With zeal we this necefiity defend, Or means directed to their ufeful end : But 'tis not that which fatalifts intend, Nor th^it which we oppofe in this debate, An uncootrol'd neceflity of fate. Which all things blindly docs and muft produce,"^ LTnconfciou* of their go >dnefs and their ufe, f Which cannot ends defign, nor means conve-T

nient choofe. j

If you perfift, and fondly will maintain Of caufcs and effect an endlcfs train ; That this fucceflive ferics ftill has been, Will never ceafe, and never did begin ; That things did always, as they do, proceed, And no firft caufe, no wife director, need : Say, if no links of all your fatal chain Free from corruption, and unchang'd remain ; If of the whole each part in time arofe, And to a caufe its bnrrow'd being owes; How then the whole can independent be ? How have a being from neceflity ? Is not the whole, ye learned heads, the fame With all the parts, and different but in name ? Could e'er that whole the leaft perfection (ho\v, Which from the parts, that form it, did not flow, Then, tell us, can it from its parts derive, What in thcmfelves thofe parts had not to give ?

Farther to clear the fubjedl in debate, Inform us, what you underftand by fate. Have you a juft idea in the mind Of this great caufe of things by you aflign'd J If you the order and dependence mean, By which effects upon their caufes lean, The long fucceffion of th' efficient train, And firm coherence of th' extended chain ; Then fate is nothing but a mode of things, Which from continued revolution fprings ; A pure relation and a mere refpect Between the caufe effective and th' cffe<5h If caufes and effects themfelves are that Which your clear-fighted fchools imcnd by fate; Rr

THE WORKS OF BLACK MO RE.

Then fjte by no idea can be known,

' Tis one thing only, as a heap is one :

You no diftinguifti'd being by it mean,

But all th' effects and caules that have been.

If you affert, that each fufficient caufe

Muft ad by fix'd inevitable laws;

If you affirm this necefiary ftate,

And tell us this neceflity is fate;

When will you blefs the world with light to fee

The fpring and fource of this neceflity *

Say, what did fo difpofe, fo things ordain,

To form the links of all the cafual chain,

That nature by inevitable force

Should run one ring, and keep one fceady courfe I

That things muft needs in one fet order flow,

And all events muft happen as they do ?

Can you no proof of your affertion find ?

Produce no reafon to convince the mind,

That nature this determin'd way muft go I

Are till things thus, bccaufe they muft be fo ?

We grant with eafe, there is neceflity,

The fource of things fhould felf-exiftent be.

But then he's not a nccefiary caufe ;

He freely acts by arbitrary laws :

He gave to beings motive energy,

And active 'things topaflive did apply;

In fuch wife order all things did difpofe,

That of events neceflity arofe :

Without his aid, fay, how will you maintain

Your fatal link of caufes ? Hence 'tis plain,

While the word fate you thus affect to ufe,

You coin a fenfelefs term, th' unwary to amufe.

You, who affert the world did ne'er commence, Prepare againft this reafoning your defence. If folar beams, which through th' expanfion dart, Corporeal are, as learned fchools aflert ; Since ftill they flow, and no fupply repays The lavifh fun his diifipated rays; Grant, that his radiant orb did ne'er begin, And that his motions have eternal been ; Then, by eternal, infinite expence, By unrecruited wafte, and fpoils immerfe, By certain fate to flow deftruction doom'd, His glorious flock long fince had been confum'd ; Of light unthrifty, and profufe of day, The ruin'd globe had fpent his lateft ray, Difpers'd in beams eternally difplay'd, Had loft in xther roam'd, and loofe in atoms ftray'd. Grant, fhat a grain of matter would out weigh ^ The light the fun difpenfes in a day Through all the ftages of his heavenly way ; 3 That in a year the golden torrents, fent From the bright fource, its loffes fcarce augment : Yet without end if you the wafte repeat, Th' eternal lofs grows infinitely great. Then, fhould the fun of finite bulk fuftaiii" In every age the lof but of a grain ; If we fuppofe thole ages infinite, Could there remain one particle of light ?

Reflect, that motion muft abate its force, As more or lefs obfiructed in its courfe; That all the heavenly orbs, while turning round," Have forne refiftar.ee from (he medium found : Be that refiftance ne'er fo faint and weak, M *tw eternal, 'twill ail motion break >

If in each age you grant the lead decreafe, By infinite fucceflion it muft ceafe. Hence, if the orbs have ftill refifted been By air, or light, or aether, ne'er fo thin ; Long Cnce their motion muft have been fuppreft.T The ftars had flood, the fun had lain at reft ; / So vain, fo wild a fcheme, you fatalifts havef drefcM. J

Let BS the wife pofition* now furvey Of Ariftotle's fchool, who's pleas' d to fay Nothing can move itfelf, no inward power To any being motion can procure. Whate'er is mov'd, its motion muft derive From fomething elfe, which muft an impulfegive : And yet no being motion could begin ; Elfe motion might not have eternal been. That matter never did begin to move, But in th' immenfe from endlefs ages ftrove, The Stagyrite thus undertakes to prove-. He fays, of motion time the meafure is ; Then that's eternal too, a's well as this. Motion through ages without limit flows, Since time, its meafure, no beginning knows. This feeble bafe upholds our author's hopes, And all his mrghty fuperftructure props. On this he all his towering fabric rears, Sequel on feq-uel heaps to reach the fpheres. But if this definition you deny > "J

Of time, on which his building does rely, You bring his lofty Babel from the Iky : J

A thoufand fine deductions you confound, *y

Scatter hi wafte philofophy around, And level all his ftructure with the ground. jr

We then this definition thus defeat : Time is no meafure, which can motion meet ; For men of reafoning faculties will fee, That time can nothing but duration be Of beings; and duration can fuggeft Nothing or of their motion, or their reft; Only prolong'd exiftence it implies, Whether the thing is mov'd, or quiet lies. This fingle blow will all the pile fubvert, So proudly rais'd, but with fo little art.

But, fince the Author has fuch fame acquir'd, And as a God of fcience been a'dmir'd, A fl ricter view we'll of his fyftem take, And of the parts a fhort examen make. Let us obferve, what light his fcheme affords, His undigefted heap of doubtful words. Great Stagyrite, the loft inquirer fliow The fpring whence motion did for ever flow ; Since nothing of itfelf e'er moves or ftrives, Tell what begins, what the firft impulfe gives.

Hear how the man, who all in fame furmount^, For motion's fpring and principle accounts. To his fuprenie, unmov'd, unactive God, He the firft fphere appoints, a Licit abode; Who fits fupinely on his azure throne, I"n contemplation of himfeli alone; Is wholly mindlefs of the world, and void Of providential care, and unemploy'd, To all the fpheres inferior are affign'd Gods fubaltern, and of inferior kind : On thefe he felf-exiftence does confer, Who, as the Gd Aipreme> eternal are 5

CREATION.

"With admiration mov'd, and ardent love, They all their fphcres around in order move ; And frum thefe heavenly revolutions flow All motions, which are found in things below.

If you demand by what impulfive force The under-gods begin their circling courfe : He fays, as things defirable excite Defire, and objects move the appetite ; So his firft God, by kindling ardent love, Does all the gods in feats inferior move : Thus mov'd, they move around their mighty

fphere*-,

With their refulgent equipage of flars ; From fphere to fphere communicate the dance, "Whence all in heavenly harmony advance ; And from this motion propagated rife AH motion^ in the earth, and air, and Ikies.

And thus by learned Anftotle'd mind All things were form'd, yet nothing was defign'd, He owns no choice, no arbitrary will, NO artift's hand, and no exerted (kill ; All motion flows from neceflary fate, WM-h nothing does rcfift, or can abate ; Things fink and rife, a being lofe or gain ">

In a coherent, undiffolving chain [tain.

Of caufc-s and rfiects, which Nature's eourfe fuf- j Th* umnoveaMe Supreme the reft does move, A- propt r objects raife dt-fire and love ; They, mov'd without their choice, without confent Move all thtir fpheres around without intent; Whate'er he calls his moving caufe, to choofc He givss that caufe no power, or to refufe. And thus from fate all artful order fprings, This rear'd the woild, this is th<" rife of things.

Now give us leave to aflc, great Stagyrirc, How the firft God th* inferior does excite ? Of his own fubftance does he parts convey, Whofe motive force the under-gods obey ? If fo, he may be chang'd, he may decay. But if by lleadfaft gazing they are mov'dj And admiration of the object lov'd ; If thofe below their motive force acquire from the ftrong impulfe of divine defire ; Tell us, what good your Ged Supreme can grant, Which thofe beneath, to make them happy, want If admiration of the God Supreme, And heavenly raptures fhould their breads inflame Is that of motion a refiltlefs caufe, Of motion conftam to eternal laws ? Might not each fecond god inactive lie On his blue fphere, and fix his ravifti'd eye - On the Supreme Unmoveable, and ne'er Be forc'd to roll around his folid fphere ? Say, how could wonder drive them from their *> place ? /

How in a circle make them run thtir race? ( How keep them fteady in one certain pace ? J

He this a fundamental maxim lay?, That Nature wifely acts in all her ways; That fhe purfues the things which molt conduce To order, beauty, decency, and ufe. Who can to reafon this affront endure ? Should it derifion caufe, or anger more, To hear a deep phiiofopher aflert Th&t nature, no; cndu'd with (kill or art,

Of liberty of choke, of reafon void,

Still wifely acts, wherever (he's employ'd ?

Can actions be denominated wife,

Which from a brute neceility arife,

Which the blind agent never did intend,

The means unchofcn, and unknown the end ?

On this be laid the ftrefs of this debate; What wifely acts can never act by fate. The means and end mufl firft be underftood; The means, as proper ; and the end, as good j The act muft be exerted with intent By ufing means to gain the wifh'd event. But can a fcnfelefs and unconfcious caufe, By foreign impulfe mov'd, and fatal laws, This thing as good, and that as fit, refpedt, Defign the end, and then the means elect? Nature, you grant, can no event intend, Yet that Ihe acts with prudence you pretend : So nature wifely acts, yet acts without an end i

Yet while this prince offcience does declare. That means or ends were never nature's care; That things which fecm with perfect art contriv'dj By the reliftlefs force of fate arriv'd; This cautious mafter, to fecure his fame, And 'fcape the atheift's ignominious name, Did to his guds of all degrees allow Counfel, defign, and power to choofe and know.' Yet, fince he's pleas'd fo plainly to affert, His gods no act of reafoning power exert, No mark of choice, or arbitrary will, Employ'd no prudence, and cxprcfs'd no (kill, In making or directing Nature's frame, Which from his fate inevitable came ; Thefe gods muft, as to us, be brute and blind, And as unufeful, as if void of mind : Acting without intent, or care, or aim, Can they our prayer regard, or praifes claim ? Of all the irreligious in debate, This fhameful error is the common fate ; That though they cannot but diftinctly fee In Nature's works, and whole oeconomy, Defign and judgment in a high degree ; This judgment, this defign, they ne'er allow Do from a caufe endued with reafon flow. The art they grant, th' artificer reject, The ftructure own, and not the architect ; That unwife nature all things wifely makes, And prudent meafures without prudence takes.

Grant that their admiration and their love Of the firft G;>d may all th' inferior move; Grant, too, though no neceflity appears, [fpheres: That, with their rapture mov'd, they move their Thefe queftions let the Stagyrite refolve, Why they at all, why in this way revolve ? Declare by whar ndceflity controi'd, In one determin'd manner they arc roll'd ? Why is their fwift rotation weft and eaft, Rather than north and fouth, or eaft and weft Why do not all th' inferior fpheres obey The higheft fphere's inevitable fway ? Tell us, if all celeftial motions rife Fmm revolutions of the ftarry fkies, Whence of the orbs the various motions come ? Why feme the general road purfue ; and fonie In aether 'ft ray, and difobedient roarn ? Rr ij

I 4 H E WORKS OF B L A C K M O R E.

{ ymira the fource of motion is, dechre, "Why this isfix'd, and that a wandering fbr? Tell by whut fate, by what refiftlefs force, This orb has one, and that another courfe ? How does the learned Greek the caufe unfold With equal fwiftnefs why the fun is roll'd Still eaft and weft, to mark the night and day ? To form the year, why through th' ecliptic way ? What magic, what ncceflity, confines The fohr'r orb between the tropic lines ? What charms in thofe enchaftted circles dwell^ That with controlling power the fun repel ? Thr Stagyrite to this no ahfwer makes; Of the vaft glebe fo little thought he takes, That he to folve thefe queftions never drives, No caufe or of its place or motion gives.

But farther yet, applauded Greek* fuppofe Celeflial motions from your fpring arofe ; That motion down to all the worlds below From the firft fphere may propagated flow : Since ybu of things to fhow th efficient fourcfe Have always to neceffity recouffe ; Froth what neceffity do fpheres proceed With fuch a meaiur'd, fuch a certain fpeed ? We fain would this mylterious caufe explore* Why motion was not either lefs or more, But in this juft proportion and degree, As fuits with nature's juft oeconomy. This is a caufe, a right one too, we grant, But 'tis the final, we th' efficient want; With greater fwiftnefs if the fphfcres were whirPd, The motion given to this inferior world Too violent had been for nature's ufe, Of too great force mix'd bodies to produce; The elements, air, water, earth, and fire, Which now to make compounded things con-

fpire,

By their rude {hocks could never have combin'd, Or had been difengag'd as foon as join'd : But then had motion in a lefs degree Been given, than that which we in nature fee ; Of greater vigour we had flood in need, To mix and blend the elemental feed, To temper, work, incorporate, and bind Thofe principles, that thence of every kind The various compound beings might arile, Which fill the earth and fea, and {lore the Ikies. Say, -what neceffity, what fatal laws, Did in fuch due proportion motion caufe, Nor more or lefs, but juft fo much as tends To frame the world, and ferve all nature's ends?

Afk why the higheft of the rolling fpheres, Deck'd to profufion with refulgent ftars, And all with bright excrefcences emboft, Has the whole beauty of the heavens engroft ; When of the others, to difpel the night, Each ow*h a fingle, folitary light ; Only one planet in a fphere is found, Marching in air his melancholy round : Mature, he teils us, took this prudent care, That the fublimeft and the nobleft fphere Should be with nobler decoration bleft, And in magnificence outfhine the reft ; That fo its greater ornament and ftate bhould bear proportion with its greater height.

?T j

It fecms then nature does not ori!y fina Means to be good, beneficent, arid kuad, But has for beauty and for order car'd, Does rank, and ftate, and decency, regard.

Now, fhould he not confidering men icrglvej If, fway'd by this affertion, they believe That nature, which does decency refpecl, Is fomething which can reafon, choofe, refled ? Or that fome wife director muft prefide O'er nature's works, and all her motions guide ? You here fhould that neceffity declare, Why all the liars adorn the higheft fphere ; Say, how is this th' effect of fatal laws, Without reflecting on a final caufe ? One fphere has all the ftars; we afk you, why ? When you to beauty and to order fly, You plain a(fert the tr uth which you deny ; That is, that Nature has wife ends in view, With forefight works, and does defigns purfue.

Thus all the mighty wits '.hat have effay'd To explicate the means how things are made By nature's power, without the Hand Divine, The final caufes of effeds a%ri. They fay, that this or that is fo or fo, That fuch events in fuch fucceffion flow ; Becaufe convenience, decency, and ufe, Require that nature things fhould thus produce. They in their demonftrations always vaunt Efficient caufes, which they always want. But thus they yield the queflion in debate, And grant the impotence of chance and fate; For, till they fhbw by what neceffity Things have the difpofition which we fee, Whether it be deriv'd from fate or chance, Not the leaft ftep in fcience they advance,

Grant Nature furnifh'd, at her vaft expence^ One room of ftate with fuch magnificence, That it might fhine above the others bright, Adorn'd with numerous burnifh'd balls of light ; Does fhe on one by decent rules difpenfe Of conftellations fuch a wealth immenfe, While the next fphere in amplitude and height Rolls on with one erratic lonely light ? But be it fo, the queftion's ftill the fame, Tell us, from what neceffity it came ?

Let us the great philofopher attend* While to the worlds below his thoughts defcend : His elements, earth, water, air, and fire, He fays, to make all compound things confpire ; He in the midft leaves the dull earth at reft, In the foft bofom of the air carefs'd ; The red-wing'd fire muft to the moon atife, Hover in air, and lick contiguous fkies ; No charms, no force, can make the fire defccndj Nor can the earth to feats fuperior tend ; Both unmolefted peace for ever own, This in the middle, that beneath the moon : Water arid air not fo ; for they, by fate Afiign'd to conttant duty, always wait ; Ready by turns to rife or to defcend, Nature againft a vacant to defend ; For fhould a void her monarchy invade, Should in her works the fmalleft breach be made, That breach the mighty fabric would difiblv, And in immediate ruin all involve.

C R E A T'l O N.

A confcquence fo difmal to prevent, Water and air are ftill (as faid) intent To mount or fall, this way or that to fly, Seek fubterranean vaults, or climb the fky ; While thefe with fo much duty are oppreft, The earth and fire are privileg'd with reft. Thefe elements, 'tis clear, have not difceru'd The intereft of the whole, nor are concern'd J-eft they, when once an interpofing void Has nature's frame o'erturn'd, ihould be deftroy't

Tell, why thefe fimple elements are four ? Why juft fo many ? why not lefs or more ? Does this from pure ned.'ffuy proceed ? Or lay, does nature juft that number need? If this, you mock us, and decline the tafk ; You give, the final caufe, vyhen we th' efEcien

aflc.

Jf that, how often fhall we call in vain, That you would this necefliry explain ?

But here forgive me, fumous Stagyrite, If I efteem it idle to r.ecire The reafons (fo you call them) which you give, To make us this necefiity believe ; R^afons fq trifling, fo abfurd, and dry, That thofe fhould blufh, who make a grave reply

Your elements we grant : but now declare, How you to form compounded thing* prepare, And mix your fire and water, earth and air? The fwift rotation of the fpheres above, You fay, muft all inferior bodies move ; The elements in fublunaryfpace Are by this impulfe furc'd to leave their place; By various agitations they combine In different forms, by different mixtures jpin ; Blended and juftly temper'd, they compound AU things in a.11 th' inferior regions found : Thus beings from th' incorporated four Refult, by undefigning Nature's power. Hence metals, plants, and minerals arife, T-he clouds anU all the meteors of the ikies! Hence all the clans that haunt the hill or wood, That beat the air, or cut the limpid flood! Ev'n man, their lord, hence into being came, , Breath'd the pure a'ir, and felt the vital flame ! Say, is not this a noble fcheme, a piece Worthy the Stagyrite, and worthy Greece ?

But now, acute philofoyher, declare How this rotation of the heavenly fphcre Can mingle fire and water, earth and air * The fire that dwells beneath Uie lunar ball, To meet afcending earth, muft downward fall.- Now turn yourfphere contiguous to the fire, Will from its feat that element retire ? The fphcre could never drive its neighbour down, But give a circling motion, like irsuwn. So give the air impreflion from above, It in a whirl vertiginous wou'.d mov ; And thus the rolling fpheres can ne'er difplace The fire or air, to make a mingled mafs ; The elements diftincl might keep their feat, Elude the ruffle, and your fcheme defeat.

But fince th' applauded author will demand For complex bodies no director's hand; Since art without an artift he maintains, rears wishou; a buii-Jcr'

He comes at length to Epicurus' fcheme, Plt-as'd by his model compound works to frame* One all his various atoms does unite I o form mixt rhino;.* ; the famous Stagyrite, By his invented elements combin'd, Compofes beings of each different kind ; But both agree, w'hile both alike deny 1 he gods did e'er their care or thought apply To form or rule this univerfal frame, Which or from fate or.cafual concourfe came. Whether to raife the world you are inclin'd By this man's chance, or th,at nian's> fate, atf

blind ;

If ftill mechanic, neceffary laws- Of moving matter muft all beings caufe; If artful workh from a brute caufe refult, Emm fprings unknown, and qualities occulf With fthem^s alikt abfurd our reafon y.ni ii And now, to finifli this lefs pleafant tafk, Of our renown. 1 d philofophcr we afk, How was the earth determin'd to its place ? Why did it firft the middle point embrace ? What blandifhment*, what flrong attractive power, What happy arts adapted to allure, Were by that finglc point of all the void, Co captivate and charm the mafs empiay'd ? Or what machines, what grapples did it caft On earth, to fix it to the cejntre, faft, ? But if the earth, by ftrong enchantment caught, This point of ail the vacant fondly ii>ugh,t, Since it is unintelligent and blind, Could it the way, the neareft could it find ? When at that point arriv'd, how did it know t was arriv'd, and fhould no farther gp ? When in a globous form collected there, What wondrous ccr.jent made the parts cohere ?, Why did the orb fufpended there remain "ix'd and unmov'd ? what does its weight fufbin ? Pell what its fall prevents ; can liquid air l-hc ponderous pile on its weak columns bear? 'he earth muft, in its gravity 'sdefpight, Jphold itfelf ; our carelefs Stagyrite ? or its fupport has no provifion made, vo pillar rear'd, ar.d no foundation laid: When by occult and unknown gravity Tis to its ftation brought, it there muft lie n updifturb'd repofe; in vain we aflc him, why ? Say, if the world uncaus'd did ne'er begin, ' nature what it is has always been ; Why do no arms the poet's fong employ^ tfore the .Theban war, or fiege of Troy ? And why.no elder hiftories relate 'he rife of empires, and the turns of flat e ? If generation* infinite are gone, heir rife and progrcfs is of recent date, n,d ft"l we mourn their young impeife fiate,. unconfin'd duration we regard^ nd time be \*th eternity compar'd, Sut yefterday the fage* of the eaft rftfomc cru.de knowledge of the ftars expreft^. ficred emblems Egypt's fons conceal' d icir myftic learning, rather than reveal'd. rcece after this, for fubtlc wit renown'd, he fcienccs and arts improv'd or found j. K. r iij
 * ll, why fo late were arts and .letters known ?.'

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

Firft,' caufes fearcn'd, and Nature's fecret ways; Firft taught the bards to fing immortal lay;, ; The charms of mufic and of painting rai^'d, And was for building firft, and firft for fculpture

prais'd.

Man in mecbanic arts did late excel, That fuccour life, and noxious power repe] ; Which yield fupplies for neceflary ufe, Or which to pleafure or to pomp conduce. How late was found the loadftone's magic force, That feeks the north, and guides the failor's courfe ! How newly did the printer's curious {kill Th' enlighten'd world with letter'd volumes fill I But late the kindled powder did explode The maffy ball, and the brafs tube unload ; The tube, to whcfe loud thunder Albion owes The laurel honeurs that adorn her brows; Which awful, -during eight renown'd campaigns, From Belgia's hills, and Gallia's frontier plains, I}id through th' admiring lealms around proclaim Marlborough's fwift conquefts, and great Anna's

name !

By this thr leader of the Britifh powers Shook Menin, Lilla, and high Ganda's towers; Next his wide engines level'd Tomnay's prrde, Whofe lofty walls advancing foes defy'<l : Thoygh nitrous tempefts, and clandeftine death, Fill'd the deep caves and numerous vaults beneath. Which, form'd with? art, and wrought with endlefs

toil,

Ran through the faithlefs excavated foil. See, the intrepid Briton delves his way. And to the caverns lets in war and day ; Quells fubterranean foes, and rifes crown'd With fpoils, from martial labour under ground. Mons, to reward Blarigr.ia's glorious field, To Marlborough's terrors did fubmiflive yield.

The hero next affail'd proud Doway's head $ And, fpite of confluent inundations ipread Around, in fpite of works for furc defence Rais'd with confummate art, and coft immenfe, With unexampled valour did lucceed : (Villars, thy hoft beheld the hardy deed!) Aria, Venantia, Bethune, and Bouchain, Of his long triumphs clofe th'illuftrious train. While thus his thunder did his wrath declare, And artful lightnings flafh'd along the air, Somona's cafties with th' impetuous roar Aftonifli'd tremble, but their warriors more; JLutetia's lofty towers, with terror {truck, Caught the contagion, and ac diftance fhook. Tell, Gallic chiefs, for you have often heard His dreadful cannon, and his fire rever'd, Tell, how you rag'd, when your pale cohorts run From Marlborough's fwor d ; the battle fcarce begun. Tell, Scaldis ! Legia, tell ! how to their head Your frighted waves in refluent errors fled, [land, While Marlborough's cannon thus prevails by Britain's fea-chiefs, by Anna's high command, Refiftlefs o'er the Tufcan billows ride, And flrike rebellowing caves on either fide; Their fulphur tempefts ring from fhore to fhore, Now make the Ligur ftart, and now the Moor. Hark how the found difturbs imperious Rome, Shakes her proud hills, and rolls from dome to

dome !

Her mitred princes hear the echoing noife, And, Albion, dread thy wrath, and awful voice. Aided by thee, the Auftrian eagles rife Sublime, and triumph in Iberian fkies. What panic fear, what anguifh, what diftrefs, What con ftc mat ion, Gallia's fons exprefs, While trembling on the coaft, they from afar View the wing'd terrors and the floating war !

BOOK VI.

The Argument,

Th.fr fabulous account of the firft rife of mankind, given by the ardent poets. The opinions of many of the Greek philofopher." concerning that point not lefs ridiculous. The aflertion of Epicurus and his followers, that our firft parents were the fpontaneous production of the earth, moft abfurd and incredible. The true origin of man inquired into. He is proved to be at firft created by an intelli gent, arbitrary caufe ; from the characters and imprefiions of contrivance, art, and wifdom, which appear in his formation. The wonderful progrefs of it. The figure, fituation, and connection of the bone*. The fy :em of the Veins, and that of the arteries. The manner of the circulation of the blood defcribed. Nutrition, how performed. The fyftem of the nerves. Of the animal fpirits, how made, and how employed in mufcular motion and fenfation. A wife, intelligent caufe in ferred from thefe appearances.

THE pagan world, to Canaan's realms unknown, I Unguided, in the dark they flrove to find, Where knowledge reign'd, and light celeftial fhone, j With fruitless toil, the fource of human kirc\. i^oft by degrees their parent Adam's name, The heathen bards, who idle fables dre't,

forgot their ftock, and won derM whence they came; | Illufive dreams in my flic yerle

CREATION.

And, foei to natural fcicnce and divine, In beauteous phrafe made impious notions fhin e > In drains fublime their different fiiftions futig, Whence the fird parents of our fpecies fprung.

Prometheus (fo lome elder poets fay) Temper'd and form'd a pafte of purer clay, To which, well mingled with the river's iieam, His artful hand gave human ihape snd frame ; Then, with warm life his figures to infpire, The bold projector dole celeiUal fire.

While others tell us how the human brood Ow'd their production to the fruitful wood ; How from the laurel and the afli they fprung, And infants on the oak, like acorns hung : The crude conceptions preft the bendieg trees, Till eherhVd by the fun-beams, by degrees, Ripe children dropp'd on all the foil around, Peopled the woods, and overfpread the ground.

Great Jupiter (fo fome were pleas' d to fing), Of fabled gods the father and the king, The moving prayer of ^Lacus did grant, And into men and women turn'd the ant.

Some tell, Deucalion and his Pyrrha threw Obdurate ftones, which o*er their ihoulders iler, Then fhifting fhape receiv'd a vital flame, And men and women (wondrous change !) be came.

And thus the hard and dubborn race of man From animated rock and flint began.

Now to the learned fchools of Greece repair, Who chance the author of the. world declare : Then judge if wife philo&phers excel Thofe idle taJes, which wanton poets tell.

They fay, at firft to living things the earth At her formation gave fpontancous birth ; When youthful heat was through the glebe dif-

fus'd,

Mankind, as well as infers, flic produc'd; That genial wombs by parent chance were form'd Adapted to the foil, which, after warm'd And cherifh'd by the fun's enlivening beam, With human offsprings did in embryo teem ; Thefe nourifh'd there a while imprifon'd lay, Then broke their yielding bands, and forc'd their

way;

The field a crop of reafor.ing creatures crown'd. And crying infants grovel'd on the ground ; A milky dore was by the mother earth Pour'd from her bofom, to fuftain the birth ; In ftrength and bulk increas'd, the earth-born race [place,

Could move, and walk, and ready change their O'er every hill and verdant pafture dray, Skip o'er the lawns, and by the rivers play, Could eat the tender plant, and by degrees Browfe on the fhrubs,and crop the budding trees ; The fragrant fruit from bending branches (hake, And with the crydal dream their third at plea- fure flake.

The "earth by thefe applauded fchools, 'tisfaid, This fingle crop of men and women bred ; Who grown adult (fo chance it feems enjoin'd) Did male and female propagate their kind.

This wife account Lucretian fages give, Whence our firft parents their defcent derived

Severely on this fubjec*l to difpute, And tales fo wild, fo fenfelefs, to confute, Were with inglorious labour to difgrace The fchools, and reafon's dignity debafe. But fince, with this of man's original, The parts remaining of their fcheme muft faH (Yet farther to purfue the prefent theme), Behold how vain philofophers may dream.

Grant, Epicurus, that by cafual birth Men fprung fpontaneous from the fruitful earth* When on the glebe the naked infants lay, How were the helplefs creatures fed ? You fay, The teeming foil did from its breads exude A foft and milky liquor for their food. I will not afk what this apt humour made, Nor by what wondrous channels 'twas convey'd; For, if we fuch inquiries make, we know Your fhort reply, It happen'd to be fo ; Without affigning once a proper caufe, Or folving qucdions by mechanic laws, To every doubt ycur anfwer is the fame, It fo fell out, and fo by chance it came.

How fhall the new-born race their food com mand,

Who cannot change their place, or move a hand J Grant that the glebe beneath will never drink, Nor through its pores let the foft humour fink; Will not the fun with his exhaling ray Defraud the babe, and draw his food away ?

Since for fo long a fpace the human birth Mud lie expos'd and naked on the earth ; Say, could the tender creature, in defpite Of heat by day, and chilling dews by night, In fpite of thunder, winds, and hail, and rain, Andall inclement air, its life maintain ?

In vain, you fay, in earth's primaeval date, Soft was the air, and mild the cold and heat ; For did not then the night fucceed the day ? The fun as now roll through its annual way ? Th' effec'ls then on the air mud be the fame, The frods of winter, and the fummer's flame.

In the firft age, you fay, the pregnant ground J With human kind in embryo did abound, C

And pour'd her offspring on the foil around. j But tell us, Epicurus, why the field Did never fince one human harved yield ? And why we never fee one ripening birth Heave in the j;lebe, and Itruggle through the earth ?

You fay, that, when the earth was freflx and

young,

While her prolific energy was drong, A race of men fhe in her bofom bred, And all the fields with infant people fpread ; But that fird birth her drength did io exhauft, The genial mother fo much vigour lod, That, waded now by age, in vain we hope She fhould again bring forth a human crop.

Mean time, die's not with labour fo

worn,

But fhe can dill the hills with woods adorn. See, from her fertile bofom how fhe pours ~ Verdant conceptions.and, refrefh'd with fhowers, Covers the field with corn, and paints the mead with flowers.

R r Hi]

THE WORKS O.P BLAC.KMORE.

See, her talj fons, the cccTar, oak, and pine, The fragrant myrtle, and the juicy vine, Tbeir parent's undtcaying-ftrength declare, *) \Vhich frefh labour, and unwearied care, S Supplies new plants, her loffes to repair. N }

Then, fir.cc the earth retains her fruitful power To procreate plants, the foreft to rcitpre ; ^ay, why to nobler animals alone Should '(lie be feeble, arid unfruitful grown ?> After one birth ihe ceas'4 not to be young, Could fhe at once fade ip her perfect bloom, - Wafteali her fpints, and her wealth confume ?v Grant that her vigour might in pan; decreaie,
 * The glebe was fucculent, the mould was ftrong.

like productions muft'fhe ever ceafe ? To form a race fhe might have flill inclin'd, Though of a monftrous, or a dwarfifh kind. Why did fhe never, by one crude cflay, Imperfect lints and rudiments difplay ?, In fame fucceeding ages had been found A leg or rm unfinifh'd in the ground.; And forrietimes in the fjelds might plow in,g fwairs Turii up foft bones, and break; unfafhion'ct veins.

l|ut grant the earth was lavifh of her power, Arjd f} >ent at once her whole prolific (lore^; "Would not fo long a, reft new vigour give, And all her firft fertility revive ? Learn, Epicurus, of th' expe'rienc'd fwain, When frequent wounds have worn th'.inipoverifh'd

plain :

J.et him a while th^e furrow not moleft, But leave the glebe to heavenly dews and reft ; )f then, he till and fpw the harrow'd field, Will not the foil a plenteous harveft yieKl ?

The fun, by you, Lucretius, is afiig^'d The other parent of all human kind. But does he ever languifh or decay ? ~\

Does he not equal influence difplay. And, pierce 'the plains i with the fame active ray ? j If then the glebe, warm'd with the folar flarrfe, [Men once produc'd, it ftill fhould be the fame.

You fay, the fun'? prolific beams can form Th' induftrious ant, the gandy fly, and Worm ; Can make each plant, and tree, the gardener's care Beiide their leaves, their proper infeds b,ear : Then ni\ght the heavens, in fume peculiar $ate, Or lucky afpe#, beafts and men create. But late 'inquirers by their glafles find That every 'infect of each different kind, In its own egg, cheer'd by the fclar rays, Organs involv'd and latent life difplays: This truth, difcover'd by fagacious a,rt, Does all Lucretian arrogance lubvert. Proud wits, your frenzy own, and, dvercome By reafba's force, be now for ever dupab,.

K 1 ,' learned Epicurus, we allovy Our race to parth primeval being ow'e, How clid fhe male and female fexts frame ?, Say, if from fortune this diitinc^ion came ?. Or did the corilcious parent then forcfec By one conception fhe fhould barren be, And therefore, wifel'y provident, defign'd Prolific pairs to propagate the kind ; Thar, thus prcferv'd, the godlike race of man &Gt cxjire e'er ycc it fc^rce began: f.

I

I

Since, by thefe various arrnjmen's, s tii clear

he teeming mould did not our parents bear; Jy more fevere inquiries let us trace The origin and fource of human race.

I think, I move, I therefore know I am; Vhile I have been, I ftill have been the fame, iijaee, from an infant, I a man became. Jut though I am, few circling years are gone,

ince I in nature's roll was quite unknown. Then, fince 'tis plain ! have' not always been,

aft, from whence my being could begin ?

did not to myfelfiexiftence give, SJor from myfelf the fecret power receive, 3y which I reafon, and by which I live. '

4jd not build this frame, ror do I know The hidden fprings frorn whence my motions flayir.

If I had form'd niyfelf, Ihad defign'd A ftronger body, and a wifer mind, I-'rqni'forrovv free, nor liable to pain; My paffions fhould obey, arid reafon reign. Nor could my being from my parents flow, Who neither did the parts or ftru&ure know, Did not my mind or body underhand, My fex determine, nor my fhape command? Had they deTign'd and rai^'d the curious frame, Infplr'd my branching veins with vital flame, ' Fafliion'd tlie heart, and hollow channels made, Through which the circling flreams of life are

play'd ; " '

H?d they the organs of my fenfes wrought, And.tof m'd the wondrous principle of thought ; Their artful vv'ork they muft have better known, Explained its fprings, and its contrivance fhown. lthey could make, they might prefer ve me

Prevent my fean, or diffipato my wo.

When long in ficknefs languifhing I lay,

1 hey with compaifion t6uch'd dul mourn and pray'j

To footh my pain, and mitigate my grief,

They faid kind things, yet brought rne no relief.

But whatlueyer caufe my being gjave,

1'he power that made me csn its creature fave.

If to myfelf 1 did not being give, ' Nor from immediate parents did receive; It could not from my predeccffors flow, They, than my parents, could r."bt mote bellow. bhould we the long depending fcale afcend Of Ions and fathers, will it never end ? If 'twill, then muft we through the order run To feme one man, whofe being ne'er begun :' If that one man was fempiterrial, why Pid. he, fince independent, ever die ? If from himfelf his own exigence came, The caufe, that could deftroy his being, narpe.

To feck my maker, thufc in vain I trace The whole fuccefiive chain of human race. Bewilder'd I my Author cannot find, ^

Till feme Firft Caufe, ft, me Self-exiftent Mind, Who form'd, and rules all nature, is affign'd, J

When firft the womb did the crude cmbryq

hold, What fhap'd the parts ? what <iid the limbs un-

fold ?

O'er the whole work in fecret did prefide, Qive quickening vigour, and each motion guide

CREATION.

ipread ; cs drill, -)

flcill, / c rect fles f

\y.hat kindjed in the dark the vital fiame,

And, ere the heart was form'd, pufli'J on the

reddening ftream ?

Then for the heart the apteft fibres ft rung ? And in the breaft th' impulfive engine hung ? 8ay, what the various bones fo wifely wrought ? How was their frame to fuch perfection brought ? What did their figures for their ufes fit, Their number fix, and joints adapted knit; And made them all in that juft order ftand, "Which motion, ftrength, and ornament, demand ? What for the finews fpun fo ftrong a thread, The curious loom to weave themufclcs fpread ; IJid the nice firings of tended membranes drill, And perforate the nerve with fo much Then with the adtivc ftream, the dark

fill?

The purple mazes of the veins difplay'd, And all th' arterial pipes in order laid, What gave the bounding current to the blood, And to and fro convey'd the reftlefs flood?

The living fabric now in pieces take, f)f every part due ohfcrvation make; All which fuch art difcover, fo conduce To beauty, vigour, and each deftin'd ufe ; "Xhe atheiii, if to learch for truth inclin'd, May in himftlf his full conviction find, And from his body teach his erring mind.

When the crude embryo careful nature breeds, J ee how fbe work*, and how her work proceeds ; While through the mafs her energy fhe darts, Which only does unravel and untwiil Th' invelop'd limbs, that previous there exift. And aa each vital fpeck, in which remains ~\ Th' entire, but rumpled animal, contains Organs perplex'd, and clue* of twining veins; j So eve'ry foe: us bears a facred heard. With fiecping, unexpended ifTue ftor'd; Which numerous, but unquicken'd progeny, .Clafp'd and inwrapt within each other lie : Engendering heats thefe one by one unbind, Stretch their {mall tabes, and hamper'd nerves
 * To free and iwell the complicated parts,

unwind :

And thus, when time fhall drain each magazine, Crowded with men unborn, unripe, unfcen, Nor yet of parts unfolded ; no incrcafe Can follow, all prolific power rnuft ceafe.

Th' elaftic fpiiit?, which remains at reft In the ftrait lodgings oi the brain compreft, While by the ambient womb's enlivening h Cheer'd and awaken'd, firft themfelves dilate ; Then quicken'd and expanded every way, The genial labourers all their force dilplay : They now begin to work the wondrous frame,, To fhape the parts, and raife the vital flame j Por when th' extended fibres of the brain '.Their adlive guefts no longer can reftrain, 'They backward f>>rii,g, which clue tffort compels The labouring fpirits to forfake their cells,; ' ' The fpirits thus exploded from their fea{, ~\

Swift from the head to the next parts retreat, C Torce their admiflion, and their pafTage beat : j Their tours around th' unopen'd mafs they take, And by a thoufand ways their inroads make,

eat,

fill there refifted they their race iufkcl, And backward to their fource their way dire& Thus with a Heady and alternate toil They iffue from, and to the head recoil ; By which their plaftic function they difcharge, Extend their channels, and their traces enlarge ; For, by thefwift excurfions which they make, Still tallying from the brain, and leaping back, They pierce the oervous fibre, bore the vein, And ftretch th' arterial channels which contain The various ftrcams of life, that to and fro Through, dark meanders undire&ed flow; Th' infpedled egg this gradnal change betrays, To which the brooding hen expanding heat con

veys.

The beating heart, demanded firft for ufe, Is the firft mufcle nature docs produce ; By this impulfive engine's conftant aid, The tepid floods are every way convey'd ; And did not nature's care at firft provide The active heart, to pufh the circling tide, All progrefs to her work would be denied.

The falient point, fo firft is call'd the heart, Shap'd and fufpcnded with amazing art, By turns dilated, and by turns comprefs'd, Expels and entertains the purple gueft; it fends from out its left contracted fide Into thl arterial tube its vital pride ; Which tube, prolong'd but little from its fourc< Parts its wide trunk, and takes a double courfc,

One channel to the head its way directs, One to th' inferior limbs its path Snfle&s : Both fmaller by degrees, and fmaller grow And on the parts, through which they br

1

v t )

ranch- f

A thoufand fecrec fubtle pipes beftow;

From which, by numerous convolutions wound,

Wrapt with th' attending nerve, and twitted

round,

The complicated knots and kernels rife, Of various figures, and of various fize. Th' arterial duds, when thus involv'd, produce Unnumber'd glands, and of important ufc ; But after, as they farther progrefs make, The appellation of a vein they take ; For though th' arterial pipes themfelves extend In /mallett branches, yet they never end; The fame continued circling channels run Back to the heart, where firft their couife begun.

The heart, as faid, from its comrative cave On, the left fide, eje<Sls the bounding wave ; Exploded thus, as fplitting channels lead, Upward it fprings, or downward is convey'd ; The crimlbn jttts with fore*: tlailic thrown Aiccnd, and climb the mind's imperial throne ; Arterial ftreams through the fort brain diffuic, And water all its fields with vital dews : l'"rom this o'erflowing tide the curious brain Does through its pores the purer fpirits ftrain ; Which to its inmoil feats their paffage make, Whence their dark rife th' extended finews take ; With all their mouths the nerves thefe fpirits drink Which through the cells of the line ftrainer fink; Thefe all the'channel'd fibres every way For motion and fenfation ftill convey.

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORK.

The greateft portion of th' arterial blood, By the clofe ftru&ure of the parts withftood, Whofe narrqw meihes ftop the groffer flood, By apt canals and furrows in the brain, Which here difcharge the office of a vein, Invert their current, and the heart regain.

The fhooting ftreams, which through another

road

The beating engine downward did explode, To all th' inferior parts defcend, and lave The members with their circulating wave : To make th' arterial treafure move as flow, As nature's ends demand, the channels grow Still mere contracted, as they farther go : Befides, the glands, which o'er the body fpread Fine complicated clues of nervous thread, Involv'd and twifted with th' arterial du, The rapid motion of the blood obftrucl : Thefe labyrinths the circling current ftay JFor noble ends, which after we difplay.

Soon as the blood has pafs'd the winding ways, And various turnings of the wondrous maze, JFrom the entangled knot of veflels freed, It runs its vital race with greater fpeed ; And from the parts and members mod remote, ~J By thefe canals the ftreams are backward / brought, [wrought ; C

Which are of thinner coats and fewer fib.resj Till all the confluent rills their current join ? And in the ample Porta vein combine. This larger channel by a thoufand roads Enters the liver, and its ftore unloads; Which from that ftore by proper inlets (trains -^ The yellow dregs, and fends them by the veins > To the large cittern, which th^ gall contains; j Then to the vein we Cava name, the blood Calls in the fcatter'd ftreams, and re-colle<fts the

flood.

As when the Thames advances through the plain, With his frefh. waters to dilute the main ; He turns and winds amidft the flowery meads, And now contrails, and now his water fpreads; Here in a courfe dired he forward tends, There to his head his waves retorted bends : See, now the fportive flood in two divides His filver train, now with uniting tides He wanton clafps the intercepted foil, And forms with erring ftreams the reedy ifle ; At length collecting all his watery hand, The ocean to augment he leaves the land. So the red currents in their fecret maze In various rounds through dark meanders pafs, Till all, aflembled in the Cava vein, Bring to the heart's right fide their crimfon train, Which now compreft with force elaftic drives The flood, that through the fecret paffes ftrives; The road that to the lungs this ftore tranfmits Into unnumber'd narrow channels fplits ; The venal blood crowds through the winding

ways,

And through the tubes the broken tide conveys ; Thofe numerous ftreams, their rofy beauty gone, poor by expence, and faint with labour grown, Are in .he lungs enrich'd, which reinfpire The languid Hqucrs, and reftore their fire.

The large arterial du&s that thither lead, *) By which the blood is from the heart convey 'd, ( Through either lobe ten thoufand branches

fpread. .)

Here its bright ftream the bounding current parts 3 And through the various pafles fwiftly darts, Each fubtle pipe, each winding channel, fills With fprightly liquors, and with purple rills ; The pipe, diftinguifh'd by its griftly rings, To cherifh life aerial pafture brings, Which the foft breathing lungs with gentle force Conftant embrace by turns, by turns divorce ; The fpringy air this nitrous food impels -\

Through all the fpungy parts and bladder'd/

cells, r

And with dilating breath the vital billows fwells ;J Th 1 admitted nitre agitates the flood, Revives its fire, and re-ferments the blood. Behold, the ftreams now change their languid

blue,

Regain their glory, and their flame renew; With fcarlet honours re-adorn'd, the tide Leaps on, and, bright with more than Tyrian pride, Advances to the heart, and fills the cave On the left fide, which the firft motion gave ; Now through the fame involv'd arterial ways, Again th' exploded jets th' impulfive engine plays.

No fons of wifdom could this current trace, Or of th' Ionic, or Italic race : From thee, Democritus, it lay conceal'd, Though yielding nature much to thee reveal'd; Though with the curious knife thou didft invade Her dark receffes, and haft oft' difplay'd The crimfon mazes, and the hollow road, Which to the heart conveys the refluent blood.- It was to thee, great Stagyrite, unknown, And thy preceptor of divine renown. Learning did ne'er this fecret truth impart To the Greek mafters of the healing art. 'Twas by the Coarj's piercing eye unview'd, And did attentive Galen's fearch elude.

Thou, wondrous Harvey! whofe immortal fame, By thee inftru&ed, grateful fchools proclaim; Thou, Albion's pride, didft firft the winding way, And circling life's dark labyrinth difplay; Attentive from the heart thou didft purfue The ftarting flood, and keep it ftill in view; Till thou with rapture faw'ii the channels bring The purple currents back, and form the vital ring.

See, how the human animal is fed, How nourifhment is wrought, and how convey'd : The mouth, with proper faculties endued, Firft entertains, and then divides the food; Two adverfe rows of teeth the meat prepare, On which the glands fermenting juice confer ; Nature has various tender mufcles plac'd, By which the artful gullet is embrac'd; Some the long funnels curious mouth extend, Through which ingefted meats with eafe defcend; Other confederate pairs for' nature's ufe Contract the fibres, and the twitch produce, Which gently pufhes on the grateful fond To the wide ftomach, by its hollow road : That this long road may unobftru&ed go, As it dtfcends, it bores the midriff through.-

CREATION.

The large receiver for concocftion made

Behold amidft the warmeft bowels laid ;

The fpleen to this, and to the adverfe fide

The glowing liver's comfort is apply'd ;

Beneath, the pancreas has its proper feat,

To cheer its neighbour, and augment its heat ;

More to affift it for its deftin'd ufe,

This ample bag is ftor'd with adtive juice,

Which can with eafe fubdue, with eafe unbind,

Admitted meats of every different kind ;

This powerful ferment, mingling with the parts,

The leaven'd mafs to milky chyle converts ;

The ftomach's fibres this concocted food,

By their contraction's gentle force, exclude,

Which by the mo.uth on the right fide defcendg

Through the wide pafs, which from that mouth

depends ;

In its progreffion foon the labour'd chyle Receives the confluent rills of bitter bile, Which by the liver fever'd from the blood, ^ And ftriving through the gall-pipe, here Tin- /

load t

Their yellow ftreams, more to refine the flood; J The complicated glands, in various ranks Difpos'd along the neighbouring channel's banks,^ By conftant weeping mix their watery (tore With the chyle's current, and dilute it more; Th' inteftine roads, inflected and inclin'd, In various convolutions turn and wind, That thefe meanders may the progrefs flay, ~) And the defcending chyle by this delay >

May through the milky vcflels find its way, j Whofe little mouths in the large channel's fide Suck in the flood, and drink the cheering tide : Thele numerous veins (fuch is the curious frame!) Receive the pure infinuating ftream ; But no corrupt or dreggy parts admit, To form the blood, or feed the limbs unfit ; Th' inteftine fpiral fibres thefe protrude, And from the winding tubes at length exclude. Obferve, thefe fmall canals confpire to make With all their treafure one capacious lake, Whofe common receptacle entertains Th' united ftreams of all the la&eal vein*. Hither the rills of water are convey'd In curious aquedu&s by nature laid, To cairy all the limpid humour ftrain'd, And from the blood divided by the gland ; Which mingling currents with the milky juice Makes it more apt to flow, more fit for ufe j Thefe liquors, which the wide receiver fill, Prepar'd with labour, and refin'd with (kill, Another courfe to diiiant parts begin, Through roads that ftretch along the back within ; This ufeful channel, lately known, afccnds, And in the vein near the left fhoulder ends, Which there unloads its wealth, that with the

blood

Now flows in one incerporated flood ; Soon by the vein 'tis to the heart convey'd, And is by that elaftic engine play'd Into the lungs, whence, as defcrib'd before, It onward fprings, and makes the wondrous tour.

Now all the banks the branching river laves With dancing ftream^ and animated wav^s ;

New florid honours and gay youth beflows, Diffufing vital vigour, where it flows ; Supplies frefh fpirits to the living frame, And kindles in the eyes a brighter flame ; Mufcles impair'd receive new fibrous thread, And every bone is with rich marrow fed ; Nature revives, cheer'd with the wealthy tide, And life rcgal'd difplays its purple pride.

But how the wondrous diftribution's made, How to each part its proper food convey'd ; How fibrous firings for nourifhment are wrought, By what conveyance to the mufcles brought ; How rang'd for motion, how for beauty mix'd ; With vital cement how th* extremes arc fix'd; How they agree in various ways to join In a tranfverfe, a ftraight, and crooked line; Here loft in wonder we adoring ftand *)

With rapture own the wife Director's hand, / Who nature made, and does her works com-^ mand. j

Let us howe'er fhe theme as far purfue, As learn'd obfervers know, or think they do. Mix'd with the blood in the fame circling

tide,

The rills nutritious through the veflels glide : Thofe pipes, ftill leflening as they further pafs, Retard the progref* of the flowing mafs. The glands, that nature o'er the body fpreads, All artful knots of various hallow threads, Which lymphjedu<5b, on artery, nerve, and vein, Involv'd and clofe together wound, contain, Make yet the motion of the ftreams more flow, Which through thofe mazes intricate muft flow : And hence it comes the interrupted blood Diftends its channels with its fwclling flood ; Thofe channels, turgid with th' obftru6tive tide,") Stretch their fmall holes, and make their mefhes wide, l"

By Ikilful nature pierc'd on every fide. j|

Mean time, the labour'd chyle pervades the pores In all th' arterial perforated fhores ; The liquid food, which through thofe pafles drives, To every part juft reparation gives; Through holes of various figures various juice Infinuates, to ferve for nature's ufe. See fofter fibres to the flefli are fent, While the thin membrane finer firings augment j The tough and ftrong are on the fincws laid, And to tHe bones the harder are convey'd ; But what the mafs nutritious does divide, To different parts the different portions guide, What makes them aptly to the limbs adhere, In youth augment them, and in age repair, The deepeft fearch could never yet declare. Nor lefs contrivance, nor lefs curious art, Surprife and pleafe in every other part. See, how the nerves, with equal wifdom made, Arifing from the tender brain, pervade, And fecret pafs in pairs the channel'd bone, And thence advance through paths and roads un known ;

Form'd of the fineft complicated thread, Thefe numerous cords are through the body fpread; A thcufand branches from each trunk they lend, Some to the limbs, fome to the bowels tend j

X

THE WORKS OF BLACKMO&E.

Some in firait lines, fome in tranfverfe, are found, One forms a crooked figure, one a round; The entrails chefe embrace in fpiral firings, Thofe clafp th' arterial tubes in tender rings ; The tendons fome compacted clofe produce^ And fome thin fibres for the fkin diffufe.

Thefe fubtl,e channels (fuch is every nerve !) For vital functions, fenfe, and mption ferye ; Included fpirits through their fecret road ^afs to and fr'p, as through the veins the blood ; Sorne to th.e heart advancing take their way, Which move and make the beating mufcle play ; Part to the fpleen, part to the liver, flows, Thefe to the lungs, and to the ftomach thofe, ; They help to labour and concoct, the food, Refine the chyle, and animate the blood; Exalt the ferments, and the drainers aid, That, by a conftant feparation made, They may a due ceconomy maintain, Exclude the noxious parts, the good retain.

Yet we thefe wondrous functions ne'er perceive, Ifun&ions, by which we move, by which we live ; tJnconfcious we thefe motions nevtr heed, Whether they err, or by juft laws proceed.

But other fpints, govern'd by the will, Shoot through their tracks, and diftant mufdes fijl : This Sovereign by his arbitrary nod Reflrains, or fends his minifters abroad ; S.wift and obedient to his high command, They tune our voices, or they move our eyes ; By thefe we walk, or from the ground arife ; By thefe we turn, by theCe the body bend ; Contrail a limb at pleafure, or extend. And though thefe fpirits, which obfequious go, Know not the paths through which they ready
 * They ftir a finger, or they lift a hand ;

flow,

Nor can our mind inftrudt them in their way,, Qf all their roads as ignorant as they :

Yet feldom erring they attain their end^ And reach that fingle part, which we intend ;. Unguided they a juft diftindtioH make, This mufcle fwell, and leave the other flack ; And when their force this limb or that infledts, Our will the meafure of that force directs ; The fpirits which diftend them, as we pleafe, Exert their power, or from their duty ceafe.

Thefe out-guards of the mind are fent abroad* And ftill patrolling beat the neighbouring road; Or to the parts rempte obedient fly, Keep pofts adyanc'd, and on the frontier lie. The watchful centinels at every gate, A* every paffage to the fenfes wait ;. Still travel to and fro the nervous way, And their impreflions to the brain convey^ Where their report the vital envoys make, And with new order* are, remanded back ; Quick, as a darted be.am of light, they go, Through different paths to different organs flovi, Whence they reflect as fwiftly to the brain, To give it pleafure, or to give it pain.

Thus has the mufe a daring wing difplay'd, Through trackjcfs fkies ambitious flight effay'd, To fing the wonders of the human frame ; Bur, ph ! bewails her weak, unequal fla,mc. Ye fkilful matters of Machaon's race, Who nature's mazy intricacies trace, And to fublimer fpheres of knowledge riCe^ By manag'd fire, and late-invented eyes ; Tell, how your fearch has. here eluded been, HQW oft amaz'd and ravifh'd.you, haye feen. The conduct, prudence, and ftupendous arj. And mafter-ftrokes in each mechanic part. Tell, what delightful myfteries remain Unfung, which my inferior voice difdain.

Who can this field of miracles furvey And not with Galen all in rapture fay Behold a God, s*dor him, and obey !

BOOK VII.

"Tie Argument.

The introduction, in. imiutipn of Iing Solomon's ironical cpncefiions to the libertine. The Creatct afferted, from the contemplation of animals. Of their fenfe of hearing, tafling, fmelling, and efpe- cially of feeing. Of, the nobler operations of. animals, commonly called inflinds. The Creator de- nionftrated farther, from the cont,emplatioij of human underftanding, and the perfections of thq mind. The vigour and fwiftnefs of thought. Simple perception. Refledi^n. Qf the mind's power of abftra&iug, uniting, and feparating ideas. Of the faculty. of r(?afoning, or deducing one propo- iition from two others. The power of human underftanding, in inventing fkilful works, and in other inftances. The mind's felf-determining power, or, freedom of choice. Her power of ele2ing an end, and choofing means to attain that end. Of controlling our appetites, rejecting pkafures, and choofing pain, want, and death itfelf, in hopes of happinefs in a diftant unknown ftate of life,

, The conclusion, being a fhort recapitulaj;i.Qn of the w^ole ; wit^i a h,y m n tp the Creator of the world.

"\VHILE rofy youth in perfect bloom maintains, Thoughtlefs of age, and ignorant of pains; While from the heart rich ftreams with vigour

Jkmnd through their roads, and dance their vital

And fpirits, fwift as fun-beams through the fkies, Dart through thy nerves, and fparkle in thy

ejes;

While nature with full ftrength thy finews arms, Glows in thy cheeks, and triumphs in her

CREATION.

VncMge thy Inftincts, and Intent, on cafe With ravifliing delight thy fenfes pleafe.

Since no black clouds difhonour now the fky, No winds, but balmy genial zephyrs, fly, Eager embark, and to th' inviting gale Thy pendants loofe, and fpread thy filken fail ; Sportive advance on pleafure's wanton tide Through flowery fcenes, diffus'd on either fide. See how the hours their painted wings dif-

play,

And draw, like harnefs'd doves, the fmiling day ! Shall thii glad fpring, when active ferments climb, Thefe months, the faireft progeny of time, The brighteft parts in all duration's train, Aflt thee to fcize thy blifs, and a(k in vain ? To their prevailing fmiles thy heart refign, And wifely make the proffcr'd bleflings thine. Near fome fair river, on reclining land, 'Midft groves and fountains let thy palace (land ; Let Parian walls unrivall'd pomp difplay, And gilded towers repel augmented day ; Let porphyry pilfers in high row* uphold The azure roof enrich'd with veins of gold; And the fair creatures of the fculptor's art Part grace thy palace, and thy garden part; Here let the fccntful fpoils of opening flowers Breathe from thy citron walks, and jalmine bowers; Hefperian blofloms in thy bofom fmcll; Let all Arabia in thy garments dwril.

That coftly banquets and delicious feafts May crown thy table, to regale thy guefts, Ranfack the hiH, and every park and wood, The lake unpeople, and defpoil the flood ; Procure each feather'd luxury, that beats its native air, or from its clime retreats, And by alternate tranfmigration flies O'er interpofing feas, and changes Ikies ; Let artful cooks to raife their reiifli drive, With all the fpicy taftcs the Indies give.

While wreaths of rofes round thy temples twine, Enjoy the fparkling bleflings of the vine ; Let the warm nectar all thy veins infpire, Solace thy heart, and raifc the vital fire.

Next let the charms of heavenly mufic cheer Thy foul with rapture liftening in thy ear; Let tuneful chiefs exert their (kill, to fliow Whit artful joys from manag'd found can flow; Now hear the melting voice and trembling ftring; Let Pcpufch touch the lyre, and Margarita fing. While wanton ferments fwell thy glowing veins To the warm pafllon give the flackcn'd reins ; Thy gazing eyes with blooming beauty feaft, Receive its dare, and hug it in thy breaft; Fiom fair to fair with gay inconftance rove, Tafte every fweet, and cloy thy foul with love.

But 'midft thy boundlefs joys, unbridled youth, Remember ftill this fad, but certain truth, That thou at laft feverely muft account ; To what will thy congetlcd guilt amount !

Allow a God ; he muft our deeds regard ; A righteous Judge muft punifh and reward: Yet that he rears no high tribunal here, Impartial juftice to difpenfe, is clear. His iword unpunifh'd criminals defy, Nor by his thyflder docs the tyrant vdiej

While Heaven's adorer's prcfl with want and pain Their unrewarded innocence maintain. See his right hand he unextended keeps, [fleeps. Though long provok'd, th' unadtive vengeance

Hence we a world fucceeding this infer, Where he his juftice will aifert ; prepare To fland arraign'd before his awful bar, Where wilt thou hide thy igriominous head ? Shuddering with horror, what haft thou to plead I Defpairing wretch! he'll frown tKee from h

throne, And by his wrath will make his being known.

Yet more Religion's empire to fupport, To pufti the foe, and make our laft effort; Let beings with attention be review'd, Which, not alone with vital power endued, Can move themfelves, can organiz'd perceive The various ttrokes, which various objects give. By laws mechanic can Lucretius tell How living creatures fee, or hear, or fmefl ? How is the image to the fenfe convey'd ? On thetun'd organ how the impulfe made ? How, and by which more noble part, the braia Perceives th' idea, can their fchools explain ? The judge of objects has her fecrct throne :, Since, a limb fever'd by the wounding fteel, We ftill may pain, as in that member, feeL Mark how the fpirirs watchful in the ear Seize undulating founds, and catch the vncal air. Obferve how others, that the tongue poflcf*, Which falts of various fliape and fize impreft, From their affected fibres upward dart, And different uftes by different ftrokes impart. Remark, how thofe, which in the noftril dwell. That artful organ deftin'd for the fmell, By vapours mov'd, their paflage upward take. And (cents tmpicafant or delightful make,
 * l'is clear, in that fuperior feat alone

If in the tongue, the noftril, and the car, No (kill, no wifdom, no defign, appear; Lucretians, next, regard the curious eye; Can you no art, no prudence, there defcryj By your mechanic principles, in vain The fenfe of fight you labour to explain. You fay, from all the objects of the eye Thin colour'd fliapes uninterrupted fly. As wandering ghofts (fo ancient poets feign) Skim through the air, and.fweep th' infernil

plain ;

So thefe light figures roam by day and night,. But undKcover'd till betray'd by light.

But can corporeal forms with fo much eafc Meet in their flight a thoufand images, And yet no conflict, no collifive force, Break their thin texture, and difturb their cotirfc ? What fix'd their parts, and made them fo cohere, That they the picture of the object wear ? What is the (hape, that from a body flies? "> What moves, what propagates, what multiplies, v And paints one image in a thoufand eyes ? 3

When to the eye the crowding figures pafs, How in a point can all pofiefs a place, And lie diftinguilVd in iuch narrow fyace ? Since all perception in the brain is made, (Though where and how was never yet difplay *d)

I

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE,

63$

And fince fo great a diilance lies between The eye-ball, and the feat of fenfe within^ While in the eye th' arrefted object ftays, Tell, what th' idea to the brain conveys ? You fay, the fpirits in the optic nerve, ivlov'd by the intercepted image, ferve To bear th' impreffion to the brain, and give The ftroke, by which the object we perceive. How docs the brain, touch'd with a different!

ftrofee, C

The whale diftinguifh from the marble rock ? I Pronounce this tree a cedar, that an oak ? J

Can fpirits weak or ftronger blows exprefs, One body greater, and another lefs ? JIow do they make us fpace and diftance know ? At once diitinct a thoufand objects fhow?

Lucretians, now proceed; contemplate all The nobler actions of the animal, Which inftinct fome, fome lower reafon, call, Say, what contexture did by chance arrive, Whicja to brute creatures did that inftirwft give, Whence they at fight difcern and dread their foe, Their food diftinguifh, and their phyfic know ? By which the lion learns to hunt his prey, And the weak herd to fear and fly away ? The birds contrive inimitable nefts ? And dens are haunted by the foreft beafts ? Whence fome in fubterranean dwellings hide, Thefe in the rocks, and thofe in woods abide ? Whence timorous beafts, through hills and lawns

purfued, By artful fhifts the ravening foe elude ?

What various wonders may obfervers fee In a fmall infect, the fagacious bee ! Mark, how the little untaught builders fquafe Their rooms, and in the dark their lodgings rear! Nature's mechanics, they unwearied ftrive, And fill with curious labyrinths the hive. See, what bright ftrokes of architecture fhine Through the whole frame, what beauty, what de-

fign !

Each odoriferous cell, and waxen tower, The yellow pillage of the rifled flower, Has twice three fides, the only figure fit To which the labourers may their ftores cotnmit, Without the lois of matter, or of room, In 5ll the wondrous ftrudture of the comb. Next view, fpectator, with admiring eyes, In what Juft order all th' apartments rife 1 So regular their equal fides cohere, Th' adapted angles fo each other bear, That, by mechanic rules refin'd and bold, They are at once upheld, at once uphold. Does not this fkiil ev'n vie with reafon's reach ? Can Euclid more, can more PaHadin, teach ? Each verdant hill th' induftrious chemifts climb, Extract the riches of the blooming thyme, And, provident of winter long before, [ftore ; They itock their caves, and hoard their flowery In peace they rule their ftate with prudent care, Wifely defend, or wage offenfive war. Maro, thefe wonders ofFer'd to his thought, Felt his known ardour, and the rapture caught : Then rais'd his voice, and, in immortal lays, Did high s heaven the iufect nation raife.

If, Epicurus, this whole artful frahie Does not a wife Creator's hand proclaim, To view the intellectual world advance ; Is this the creature too of fate or chance ? Turn on itfelf thy godlike reafon's ray, Thy mind contemplate, and its power furvey.

What high perfections grace the human mindj In flefh imprifon'd, and to earth confin'd ! What vigour has fhe ! what a piercing fight ! Strong as the winds, and fprightly as the light! She moves unweary'd as the active fire, And, like the flame, her flights to heaven afpire : By day her thoughts in never-ceafing ftreams Flow clear ; by night they ftrive in troubled

dreams.

She draws ten thoufand landfcapes in the brain, Dreffes of airy forms an endlefs train, Which all her intellectual fcenes prepare, Enter by turns the ftage, and difappear. To the remoter regions of the fky Her fwift-wing'd thought can in a moment fly ; Climb to the heights of heaven, to be employ 'd In viewing thence th' interminable void ; Can look beyond the ftrcam of time, to fee The ftagnant ocean of eternity. Thoughts in an inftant through the zodiac run, A year's long journey for the labouring fun ; Then down v they moot, as fwift as darting light, Nor can oppofing clouds retard their flight ; Through fubterranean vaults with eafe they fweep^ And fearch the hidden wonders of the deep.

When man -with reafon dignify'd is bornj No images his naked mind adorn ; No fcicnces or arts enrich his brain, Nor fancy yet difplaysher pi5lur'd train : >;'^ * Jie no innate ideas can difcern, Of knowledge dcftitute, though apt to learn* Our intelle&ual, like the body's, eye, Whilft in the womb, no object can defcry-; Yet is difpos'd to entertain the light, And judge of things when ofFer'd to the fight. When objects through the fenfes paffage gain, And fill with various imagery the brain, Th' ideas, which the mind does thence perceive, To think and know the firft occafion give. Did fhe not ufe the fenfes' miniftry, T|

Nor ever tafte, cr fmell, or hear, or fee, Could fhe poffeft of power perceptive be ? j

Wretches, who fightlefs into being came, Of light or Colour no idea frame. Then grant a man his being did commence, Deny'd by Nature each external fenfe, Thefe ports unopcn'd, diffident we guefs, Th' unconfcious foul no image could poffefsj Though what in fuch a ftate the reftltfs train Of fpirits would produce, we afk in vain. The mind proceeds, end to reflection goes, Perceives fhe does perceive, and knows ihe knows ; Reviews her acts, and does from thence con clude She is with reafon and with choice endued.

From individuals of diftinguifh'd kind, By her abflracting faculty, the mind t

Precifely general natures can conceive, And birth to notions uraverfal give \

CREATION.

639

The various modes of things dilun<Tcly (hows, p

A pure refpect, a nice relation knows, [flows ; S-

And fees whence each refpect and each relation J

By her abflracting power in pieces takes [makes;

The mix'd and compound whole, which Nature

On objects of the fenfes (he refines,

Beings by Nature feparated joins,

And fevers equalities, which that combines.

The mind, from things repugnant, fome refpects

In which their natures are alike felccts,

And can fome difference and unlikenefs fee

In things which feem entirely to agree :

She does diftinguifh here, and there unite ;

The mark of judgment that, and this of wit.

As (he can reckon, feparate, and compare, ~) Conceive what order, rude, proportion, are, > So from one thought (he ftill can more infer ; J) Maxim from maxim can by force exprcfs, And make difcover'd truths afibciate truths confefi : On plain foundations, which our reafon lays, She can ftupendous frames of fciencc raife ; Notion on notion built will towering rife, Till th' intelle&ual fabrics reach the flues ; The mathematic axioms, which appear By fcientifk demonftration clear, The mafter-builders on two pillars rear : From two plain problems by laborious thought Is all the wondrous fuperftructure wrought.

The foul, as mention'd, can herfelf infpcct, By acts, reflex can view her as direct ;, A talk too hard for fcnfe ; for though the eye Its own reflected image can defcry, Yet it ne'er faw the fight by which it fees, Vifion can (how no cofour'd images.

The mind's tribunal can reports reject Made by the fenfes, and their faults correct ; The magnitude. of diftant ftars it knows, "Which erring fcnfe, as twinkling tapers, (hows : Crooked the (hape our cheated eye believes, Which through a double medium it receives ; Superior mind does a right judgment make, Declare* its ftraight, and mefltis the eye's miQake

Where dwells this fovereign arbitrary foul, ^ Which does the human ar.imal control, >

Inform each part, and agitate the whole ? * j O'er minifterial fenfes does prefide, ")

To alLtheir various provinces divide, Each member move, and every motion guide ? 3 Which, by her fecret uncontefted nod, *)

Her meflengers the fpirits fends abroad, Through every nervous pafs,andevery vital road, 3 To fetch from every diflant part a train Of outward objects, to enrich the brain ? Where fits this bright intelligence enthron'd, With numberlefs ideas pour'd around*' Where fciences and arts in order wait, And truths divine compole her godlike ftate ? Can the difikcting fteel the brain difplay, And the anguft apartment open lay, Where this great queen ftill choofes to refide In intellectual pomp, and bright ideal pride ? Or can the eye, afliited by the glafs, Difcern the ftrait, but hofpitable place, In which ten thoufand images remain, Without cunfulion, and their rank maintain ?

How does thi$ wondrous principle of thought Perceive the object by the fenfes brought ? What philofophic builder will eflay By rules mechanic to unfold the way How a machine mufl be difpos'd to think,' Ideas how t frame, and how to link ? Tell us, Lucretius, Epicurus, tell, And you in wit unrival'd (hall excel ; How through the outward fenfe the object flier, How in the foul her images arife ; What thinking, what perception is, explain ; What all the airy creatures of the brain ; How to the mind a thought reflected goes, And how the confcious engine knows it know*.

The mind a thoufand ikilful works can frame, Can form deep projects to procure her aim. Merchants for eaftern pearl and golden ore To crofs the main, and reach the Indian more, Prepare the floating (hip, and fpread the fail, To catch the impulfe of the breathing gale. Warriors in framing fchemes their wrfdom (how, To difappoint or circumvent the foe. Th' ambitious ftatefman labours dark defigns, Now open force employs, now undermines ; By paths direct his end he now purfues, By fide approaches now, and (ranting views.

See, how refiftlcfs orators perfuadc, Draw out their forces, and the heart invade ; Touch every fpring and movement of the foul, This appetite excite, and that controul ; Their powerful voice can flying troops arreft, Confirm the weak, and melt th* obdurate brcatt; Chafe from the fad their melancholy air, Sooth difcontent, and folace anxious care. When threatening tides of rage and anger rife, Ufurp the throne, and reafon's fway dcfpifc, When in the feats of life this temped reigns, Beats through the heart, and drives along the veins; See, eloquence with force perfuafive binds The reftlcfs waves, and charms the warring winds, Refifllefs bids tumultuous uproar ceafe, Recalls the calm, and gives the bdfom peace.

Did not the mind, on heavenly joy intent, The various kinds of harmony invent ? She the theorbo, (he the viol found, And all the moving melody of found ; She gave to breathing tubes a power unknown,- To fpeak infpir'd with accents not their own ; Taught tuneful fons of mufic how to fmg, How, by vibrations of th* extended firing, And manag'd impulfe on the fuffering air, T' extort the rapture, and delight the ear.

See, how celeftial reafon does command The ready pencil in the painter's hand ; Whofe flrokes affect with Nature's felf to vie, And with falfe life amufe the doubtful eye : Behold the ftrong emotions of the mind Exerted in the eyes, and in the face defign'd* Such is the artift's wondrous power, that we Ev'n pidur'd fouls and colour'd paflions fee, Where without words (peculiar eloquence) The bufy figures fpeak their various fenfe. What living face does more diflrefs or woe, More finifh'd fhame, confufion, horror, know, Than what the matters of the pencil (how ?

THE WORKS OF BLAOKMORE.

Mean time the chifcl with the pencil vies; The fifter arts difpute the doubtful prize. Are human limbs, ev'n in their vital frate, More juft and ftrong, more free and delicate, Than Buonorota's curious tools create ? tje to the rock can vifal inftindts give,,. Which, thus transform'd, can rage, rejoice, or

grieve :

His fJcjlful hand doe? marble veins infpire >lovv with the lover's, now the hero's fire; So well th' imagin'd actors play their part, The filent hypocrites iuch power exert, That paffions, which they feel not, they beftoiw,. AfFrigh.t us with their fear, and melt us with their

, f ,woe. ...,.,,, ,

There Nlqbe leans weeping on her arm :.

How her fad looks and beauteous forrow charm! See, here a Venus foft in Parian (tone; A Pallas there to ancient fables knevyn ; That from the rock arofe, ; not from the main, This not from Jove's, .but from the fculptor's brain.

Admire the carver's fertile energy, With ravifh'd eyes his happy offspring fee.. What beauteous figures by th' unrival'd art Of Britifh Gibbons from the cedar ftart ! He makes that tree unnative charms affume, Ufurp gay honours, and another's bloom ; The various fruits, which different climates bear, And all the pride the fields and gardens wear ; While from unjuicy limbs without a root New buds devis'd, and leafy branches, fhoot.

As human kind can by an act direct, Perceive and know, then reafon and reflect : So the felf- moving fpring has power to choofe, Thefe methods to reject, and thofe to ufej She can defign and profecute an end, xert her vigour, or her act fufpend ; Frqe from the infults of all foreign power, She does her godlike liberty fecure ; Her right and high prerogative maintains, Impatient of the yoke, and fcorns coercive chains; She can her airy train of forms difband, And makes new levees at her own command ; O'er her ideas fovereign (he prefides, At pleafure thefe unites, and thofe divides.

The ready phantoms at her nod advance, And form the bufy intellectual dance ; While her fair fcenes to vary, or fupply, She fingles out fit images, that lie In memory's records, which faitbfuV hold Objects immenfe in fecret marks inroll'd ; The fleeping forms at her command awakei And nw return, and now their cells foriake, , On active fancy's crowded theatre, As fhe directs, they rife or difappear. [way,

Objects, which through the fenfes make their And juft impreflions to the foul convey, Give her occafion firft herfelf to move, And to exert her hatred, or her love ; Ideas, which to fome impulfive feem, Act not upon the mind, but that on them. When fhe to foreign objects audience gives, Their itrokes and motions in the brain perceives ; As thefe perceptions, we ideas name, From her own power and u&ive nature came,

So when difcern'/d by intellectual Ugh?, *l

Herfelf her various paffions does excite, C

To ill her hate, to good her appetite ; j

To fhuti the firft, the latter to procure, She chpofes means by free elective power ; She can their various habitudes furvey, Debate their fitnefs, and their merit weigh, And, while the means fuggefted fhe compare9 s She .to the rivals this or that prefers.

By her fupenpr power the reafoning foul Can each reluctant appetite controul ; Can every paffion rule., and every fenfe,,. Change Nature's courfe,and with her lawsdifpenfe j Our breathing to prevent, fhe can arreft Th' extenfion, or contraction, of the bread; When pain'd with hunger, we can food refufci And wholefome abftinence, or famine choofe. Can the wild beaft his infti.nct difobey, An4 from his jaws rcleafe the captive prey ? Or hungry herds on verdant paflures lie, IVTindleis to eat, and refolute to die ? With heat expiring,., can the panting hart v Patient of tKirft from, the cool ftream depart ? Can, brutes at will imprifon'd breath detain ? Torment prefer to cafe, and life difdain ?

From all rcftraint, from all compulfion free, Unforc'd, and unneceffitated, we Ourfelves determine, and our freedom prove, When this we fly, and to that object move. Had not the mind a power to will and choofe, One object to embrace, and one refufe ; , Could ihe not actj or not her act fufpend, As it obftructed, or advanc'd her end j Virtue and vice were names without a caufe, This would not hate deferve, nor that applaufc ; Juftice in vain has high tribunals rear'd, ,

Whom can her fentqnce punifh, whom reward ? If impious children fbould their father.kill, Can they be wicked, when they cannot will ; When ouly caufes foreign and unfeen, "^

Strike with refiftlefs force the fprings within, / Whence in jhe engine man all motion mufti" begin? J

Are vapours guilty which the vintage blaft ? Are florms prolcrib'd, which lay the foreft wafte ? Why lies the wretch then tortur'd on the wheel, If forc'd to treafon, or compell'd to fteal ? Why does the warrior, by aufpicious fate With laurels crown'd, and clad in robes of ftate, In triumph ride amidft the gazing throng, Deaf with applaufes, and the poet's fong j If the victorious, but the brute machine Did only wreaths inevitable win, And no wife choice or vigilance has fhown j Mov'd by a fatal impulfe, not hi own ?

Should trains of atoms human fenfe impel, Though not fo fierce, fo ftrong, fo vilible As foldiers arm'd, and do not men arreft With clubs upheld, and daggers at their bread ? Yet means compulfive are not plainer fhown, When ruffians drive, or conquerors drag us on ; As much we're forc'd, when by an atom's fvvay Control'd, as when a tyrant we obey ; And, by whatever caufe conflrain'd to act, We merit nu reward, no guilt contract.

CREATTO.N.

Our mind of rulers feels a confcious awe, Reveres their juftice, and regards their law : She rectitude and deviation knows, That vice from one, from one that virtue flows ; Of thefe (he feels unlike effe6b within, From virtue pleafure, and remorfe fiom fin ; Hopes of a juft reward by that are fed, By this f wrath vindi&ive. fecret dread. The mind, which thus can rules of duty learn, Can right from wrong, and good from ill difcern ; Which, the fharp ftroke of juftice to p'evenr, Can fhame exprefs, can grieve, reflect, repent ; From fate or chance her rile can rever draw, Thofe caufes know not virtue, vice, or law.

She can a life fucceeding this conceive, Of blifs or woe an endlefs ftace believe. Dreading the juft and univerfal doom, And aw'd by fears of ptinifhment to come, By hopes excited of a glorious crown, And certain pleafures in a world unknown : She can the fond defires of fenfe reftrain, Renounce delight, and choofe diftrefs and pain ; Can rufli on danger, can dfftru&ion face, Joyful rfltnquifh life, nnd death embrace : She to afflicted virtue can adhere, And chains apd want to profperous guilt prefer ; "Unmov'd, thefe wild tempeftuous fteps furvey, And view ferene this rcftlefs rolling fca. In vain the monfters, which the coaft infeft, Spend all their rage to interrupt her reft; Her charming fong the fyren fings in vain, She can the tuneful hypocrite difdain ; Fix*d and unchang'd the faithlefs world behold, Deaf to its threats, and to its favour cold. Sages, remark, we labour not to fliow The will is free, but thrtt the man is fo ; For what enlighten'd reafoner can declare What human will and underftanding arc ? What fciencc from thofe objects can we frame Of which we little know, befidcs the name ? The learned, who with anatomic art DaTe6l the mind, and thinking fubftance part, And various powers and faculties affert, Perhaps by fuch abftradlion of the mind, Divide the things that are in nature join'd. What matters of the fchnols can make it clear Thofe faculties, which two to them appear, Are not redding in the foul the fame, And not diftindt, but by a different name ?

Thus has the mufe purfu'd her hardy theme, And fiing the wonders of this artful frame. Ere yet one fubterranean arch was made, One cavern vaulted, or one girder laid ; Ere the high rocks did o'er the {hores arife, Or fnowy mountains tower'd amidft the ikies ; Before the wat'ry troops fi I'd off from land, And lay amidft the rocks entrench'd in fand j Before the air its bofom did unfold, Or burnifh'd orbs in blue expanfion roll'd, She fung how Nature then in embryo lay, And did the fecreis of her birth difplay.

When after, at th' Almighty's high command, Obedient waves divided from the land ; And (hades and lazy mifts were chas'd away, While rofy light diffus'd the tender day :

Voi.Y".

When uproar ceas'd, and wild confufion fled, And new-born Nature rais'd her beauteous head; She fung the frame of this terreftrial pile, The hills, the rocks, the rivers, and the foil : She view'd the fandy frontiers, which reftrain The noify infults of th' imprifon'd main ; Rang'd o'er the wide diffulion of the waves, The moift ccerulean walks, and fearch'd the coral cavts.

She then Tnrvey'd the fluid fields of air, And the crude feeds of meteors fafhion'd there; Then with continued flight flic fped her way, Mounted, and bold purfu'd the fource of day ; With wonder of celeftial motions fung, How the pois'd orbs are in the vacant hung; How the bright flukes of aethereal light, Now (hut, defend the empire of the night ; And now, drawn up with wife alternate care, Let floods of glory out, and fpread with day the air.

then, with a daring wing, (he foar'd fublime, From realm to realm, from orb to orb did climb : Swift through the fpacious gulf (he urg'd her way, At length emerg'd in empyrean day ; Where far, oh far, beyond what mortals fee, In the void diftri<5ts of immenfity ; The mind new funs, new planets, can explore, And yet beyond can ftill imagine more.

Thus in bold numbers did th' adventurous mufe To fing the lifelefs parts of Nature choofe ; And then advanc'd to wonders yet behind, Survey'dand fung the vegetable kind ; Did lofty woods, and humble brakes' review, Along the valley fwcpt, and o'er the mountain

flew.

Then left the mufe, the field, and waving grove, And, unfatigu'd with grateful labour, ftrove To climb th' amazing heights of fenfe, and fing The power perceptive, and the inward fpring Which agitates and guides each living thing.

She next eflay'd the embryo's rife to trace From an unfathion'd, rude, unchannel'd mafs; S.uiijf how the fpirits waken'd in the brain, Exert their force, and genial toil maintain ; Erecl. the bearing heart, the channels frame, Unfold entangled limbs, and kindle vital flame : How the fmali pipes are in meanders laid, And bounding life is to and fro convey'd ; How fpirits, which for fenfe and motion ferve, Unguided find the perforated nerve, Through every dark reces purfue their flight, ~\ Unconfcious of the road, and void of fight, f Yet certain of the way, flill guide their motions f right. J

From thence a nobler flight (he did effay, The mind's extended empire to furvey. She fung the godlike principle rf thought, "^

And how, from obje&s by the fenfes brought, s. The intellectual imagery is wrought ; ^

Mow fhe the modes of beings can diiccrn, A !i : ce refpecX a mere relation learn ; Can all the thin abftradk-d notions reach, Which Grecian wits, <-r, Britain, thine can tcadi

Thus has the mufe ftrove to difplay a part Of thofc Bnaumber'd miracles of ar\;

THE WORKS OF BLACKMORE.

Of prudence, condub, and a wife defign,

Which to th' attentive thought confpicuous fhine.

Still, vanquifh'd afheifts ! will you keep the field, And, hard in error, ftill refufe to yield ? fiee, all your broken arms lie fpread around, And ignominious rout deforms the ground ; Be wife, and, once admonifb'd by a foe, Where lies your ftrength, and where your weak-

nefs know ;

No more at reafon's folemn bar appear, Hardy no more fcholaftic weapons bear ; Difband your feeble forces, and decline The war; no more in tinfel armour (bine; Nor fhake your bujrufh fpears, but fwift repair To your ftrong place of arms, the fcoffer's chair ; And thence, fupported with a mocking ring, Sarcaftic darts, and keen inve&ives fling Againft your foes, and fcornful at your feafts Religion vanquifh with decifive jefts ; Arm'd with refiftlefs laughter, heaven affail, Relinquish reafdn, and let mirth prevail. [fight,

Good Heav'n ! that men, who vaunt difcerning And arrogant from wifdom's diftant height JLook down on vulgar mortals, who revere ~) ACaufe Siipreme,(hould their proud build jng rear C "Without one prop the ponderous pile toiear ! j How much the Judge, who does in heaven prefide, Re-mocks the fcoffer, and contemns his pride ! JBehold, the fad, unfufferable hour Advances near, which will his error cure ; When he compell'd (hall drink the wrathful } And ruin'd feel immortal vengeance roll [bowl, > Through all his veins, and drench his inmoft foul. } P'erwhelm'd with horror, funk in deep defpair, And loft for ever, will the wretch forbear To curfe his madnefs, and blafpheme the power Of his juft Sovereign, which he mock'd before ?

Hail, King Supreme ! of Power immenfe Abyfs ! Father of Light ! Exhaftlefs Source of Blifs \. ' Thou uncreated, Self-exiltent Caufe, Control' d by no fuperior being's laws, Ere infant light effay'd to dart the ray, Smil'd heavenly fweet, an4 try'd tp kindle day : Ere the wide fields of sether were difplay'd, Or filver ftars ccerulean fpheres inlaid ; Ere yet the eldeft child of time was born, Or verdant pride young nature did adorn; Thou art ; and didft eternity employ In unmolefted peace, in plenitude of joy.

In its ideal frame the world, defign'd From ages pail, lay finifh'd in thy mind. Conform to this divine imagin'd plan,

With perfect ait th' amazing work began. Thy glance furvey'd the folitJ

folitary plains,

Where {hspelefs ihade inert and filem reigns; Then in the dark and undiftinguifh'd fpace, Unfruitful, unenclos'd, and wild of face, Thy compafs for the world mark'd out

ftin'd place,

Then d jclft thou thrpugh the fields of barren night Go forth, collected in Creating Might. Where Thou almighty, vigour didfl exert, Which emicant did this and that way dart Through the black bofom of the empty fpace : The gulfs confefs th' omnipotent embrace,

~"&^", pace, -)

'" C

the de- f

And, pregnant grown with elemental fee4, Unfiniftv'd orbs and worlds in embryo breed. From the crude mafs, Omnifcient Architect, Thou for each part materials did feledl, And with a mafter-han.d thy world erect. Labour'.d by Thee, the globes, vaft lucid buoys, By Thee uplifted, float in liquid fkies : By Thy cementing word their parts cohere, And roll by Thy impuHive nod in air. Thou in the vacant didft the earth fufpend, Advance the mountains, and_thc vales extend : People the plains with flocks, with beads the wood, And ftore with fcjily colonies the flood.

Next, 1 man arofe at Thy Creating Word, Of Thy terreftrial realms vicegerent lord. His foul, more artful labour, more refin'd, And emulous of bright Seraphic Mind, Ennobled by Thy image, fpotlefs fhone, Prais'd Thee her author, and ador'd Thy throne j Able to know, admire, enjoy her God, She did her high felicity applaud.

Since Thou didft all the fpacious worlds difplay, Homage to Thee let all obedient pay. Let glittering ftars, that cfence their deftin'd ring^ Sublime in iky, with vocal planets fing [King ! > Confederate praife to Thee, O Great Creator J Let the thin diftridls of the waving air, Conveyancers of found, Thy ikill declare. Let winds, the breathing creatures of the fkies, Call in each vigorous gale, that roving flies By land or fea ; then one loud triumph raife, And all their blafts employ in fongs of praife.

While painted herald-birds Thy deeds proclaim, And on their fpreading wings convey Thy fame ; Let eagles, which in heaven's blue concave foar, Scornful of earth, fuperior feats explore, And rife with breafts creel againft the fun, Be minrfters to bear Thy bright renown, And carry ardent praifcs to Thy throne.

Ye fifh, agume a voice ; with praifes fill The hollow rock, ajad loud reactive hill. Let lions with their roar their th'anks exprefs, With acclamations fhake the wildernefs. Let thunder clouds, that float from pole to pole ? With falvos loud falute Thee as they roll. Ye monfters of the fea, ye noify waves, Strike with applaufe the repercuffive caves. Let hail and rain, let meteors form'd of fire. And lambent flames, in this blefl work confpire. Let the high cedar and the mountain pine Lowly to thee, Qreat King, their heads incline. Let every fpicy odoriferous tree Prefent its incenfe and its balm to Thee. [low^

And thou, Heaven's viceroy o'er this world be- In this bleft tafk fuperior ardour fhow : To' view thyfelf, inflect thy reafon's ray, Nature's replenifti'd theatre furvey; Then all on fire the Author's {kill adore, And in loud fengs extol Creating Power.

Degenerate minds, in mazy error loft, May combat Heaven, and impious triumphs boa{l ; But, while my veins feel animating fires, And vital air this breathing breaft infpires, Grateful to Heaven, I'll ftretch a pious wing, And fing His praife, who gave me power to finjr.

THE 50NG OF MOPUS.

43

THE SONG OF MOPUS*.

BUT that which Arthur with moft pleafure heard, Were noble ftrains, by Mopus fung, the bard Who to his harp in lofty verfe began, And through the fecret maze of Nature ran. He the great Spirit fung, that all things fill'd, That the tumultuous waves of Chaos ftill'd; Whofe nod difpos'd the jarring feeds to peace, And made the wars of hoftile atoms ceafe. All beings we in fruitful nature find, Proceeded from the great Eternal Mind ; Streams of his unexhaufted fpring of power, And cherifh'd with his influence, endure. He fpread the pure cocrulean fields on high, And arch'd the chambers of the vaulted fky, Which he, to fuit their glory with their height, Adorn'd with globes, that reel, as drunk with

light.

His hajid directed alj the tuneful fpheres, He turn'd their orbs, and polifh'd all the flars. He fill'd the fun's vaft lamp with golden light, And bid the filver moon adorn the night. * He fpread the airy ocean without fhores, Where birds are wafted with their feathcr'd oars. Then fung the bard how the light vapours rife From the warm earth, and cloud the fmiling Ikies. He fung how fome, chilPd in their airy flight, Fall fcatter'd down in pearly dew by night. How iome, rais'd higher, fit in fecret fleams On the reflected points of bounding beams ; Till, chill'd with cold, they fhade th' atherial plain, Then on the thirfly earth defcend in rain. How fome, whofe parts a flight contexture (how, Sink hovering through the air, in fleecy fnow. How part is fpun in filken threads, and clings Entangled in the grafs in glewy firings. How others flamp to ftones, with rufhing found Fall from their cryflal quarries to the ground. How fome are laid in trains, that kindled fly In harmlefs fires by night, about the Iky. HOW fome in winds blow with impetuous force, And carry ruin where they bend the^r courfe : While fome confpire to form a gentle breeze, To fan the air, and play among the trees.

How fome, enrag'd, grow turbulent and loud,

Pent in the bowels of a frowning cloud ;

That cracks, as if the axis of the world

Was broke, and heaven's bright towers were

downwards hurl'd.

He fung how earth's wide ball, at Jove's com mand,

Did in the midft on airy columns {land. And how the foul of plains, in prifon held, And bound with fluggifh fetters, lies conceal'd, Till with t^e fpring's warm beams, alntoft re-

leaft

From the dull weight, with which it lay oppreft, Its vigour fpreads, and makes the teeming earth Heave up, and labour with the fprouting birth : The active fpirit freedom feeks in vain, It only works and twifts a ftronger chain. Urging its prifon's fides to break away, It makes that wider, where 'tis forced to ftay : Till, having form'd its living houfe, it rears Its head, and in a tender plant appears. Hence fprings the oak, the beauty of the grove, Whofe ilately trunk fierce dorms can fcarccly

move.

Hence grows the cedar, hence the f welling vine Does round the elm its purple clufters twine. Hence painted flowers the fmiling gardens blefs, Both with their fragrant fcent and gaudy drefs. Hence the white lily in full beauty grows, Hence the blue violet, and blufhing rofe. He fung how fun beams brood upon the earth, And in the glebe hatch fuch a numerous birth; Which way the genial warmth in fummer fkorma Turns putrid vapours to a bed of worms ; How rain, transformed by this prolific power, Falls from the clouds an animated fhower. He fung the embryo's growth within the womb, And how the parts their various fhapcs affume. With what rare art the wondrous ftructure's

wrought,

From one crude mafs to fuch perfection brought ; That no part ufelefs none mifplac'd we fee, None are forgot, and more would monftrous be.

cimen

As the heroic poems of Blackmore are now little read, it is thought proper to infert, as a fpe-
 * n from Prince Arthur, the above fong, which is mentioned by Molyneux in his letter to Lock.
 * '* Works, Vol. iu.f. .568,569, Edit. 1714.]

T R 1

POETICAL WORKS

OF

WILLIAM WILKIE, D. D.

Containing

THE EPIGONIA, || FABLES,

' f

To which is prefixed,

LIFE OF *THE AUTHOR.

This theme did once your fav'rite bard employ,

Whofe verfe immortaliz'd the fall of Troy :

But time'* oblivious gulf, whofe circle draws

All mortal things by fate's eternal laws,

This fong has fnatch'd. I now refume the ftrain,

Not from proud hope and emulation vain,

By this attempt to merit equal praife

With worth heroic, born in happier days.

But love excites me, and defire to trace

His glorious fteps, though with unequal pace*

EPIGONIAD, BOOK I.

EDINBURGH;

PRINTED BY MUtfDELL AND SON, ROYAL BANK

THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

Or the pcrfonal hiflory of WILKIE, " the Scottifh Homer," there is no written memorial. Though his writings are not more diftiuguifhed for learning and genius, than his life was remark able fer originality of manners, his name is not to be found in any collection of literary biography.

In 1783, a defign was formed of writing his life, to be prefixed to a new edition of his poems, by the Rev. Dr. William Thomfon, whofe abilities, in other literary provinces, have juftly obtained him the fan&ion of public applaufe* In the profeciirion of this defign, Dr. Fhomfon was encou raged, by the approbation of the late Earl of Laudtrdale, and aiMed by information obtained by Mr. Andrew Dalzel, ProfefTor of Greek in the University of Edinburgh, from his coufin, the Rev. Robert Lifton, minifter of Abcrdour, the Rev. James Robertfon, minifter of Ratho, and the Rev. Dr. Thomas Robertfon, minifter of Dalmeny. Afrer having made fofne progrefs in digefting the materials, the intended edition of his poenas not meeting with fuitable encouragement. Dr. Thomfon was compelled to defift; and his friends are difappointed in the hope of feeing juftice done- to his memory, by the fame mafterly pen that has enriched Englifh literature by the 14 Continuation of Watfon'a Hiftory of Philip III." the " Tranflation of Cuningham's Hiftory of Great JJritain," and other ingenious and elegant performances.

It is with becoming diffidence the prefent writer takes opon him a tafk which has been de clined by Dr. Thomfon ; but, in collecting the works of this poet^with thofe of other eminent poets of our natioa, it is incumbent upon him to prefix fome account of his life, which, however inadequate to his merits, or uiifatisfa#ory to his friends, may not be altogether unwelcome to the public, who, it has been' often obferved, will always take an intereft in thofe perfons from whofe labours they have derived profit or delight.

The facts 'ftarcd in the prefent account, are partly taeri from fome detached portions 6f Dr. Thomfon's unfinifhed narrative, and partly from the original information furnimed by Mr. Robertfon, Mr. Lifton, and Dr. Rolcrtfon, obligingly communicated to the prefent writer, fey Dr. Thomfon, through the kindnefs of Profeffor Dalzel, whofe laudable endeavours to vindicate the fame, and to preferve the memory of this poet, entitle him to the gratitude cf the lovers of claffical and polite literature.

William Wilkie was born at Echlin, in the p-jrifh of Dalmeny, in the county of Weft-Lothiati, October 5. 1711. His great-grandfather was a younger fon of the family of Wilkie, of Ratho- byres, in the pariih of Ratho, one of the oldeft families in Mid-Lothian, and the undoubted chief of the Wilkies. His grandfather rented the farm of Echlin, and pur chafed a part of the cftate of Rathobyres, which he franfmitted with the farm to his fon, the poet's father, who was a worthy, liberal, and intelligent man, never opulent, on the contrary, poor, and rather unfortunate through life. His mother was a woman of diftinguifhed prudence and uhderftanding, and able, it is faid, to exprefs her thoughts in the mo ft grammatical manner, and proper words on every fuB-

jca.

He received his early education at the parifh fchool of Dalmeny, under the care of Mr. Riddel^' a very refpcclable and fuccefsful teacher. At fchool, he obtained the reputation of a boy of excel lent parts, and on many occafions difcovered juui'ks of that peculiarity and fertility of genius that fo remarkably chara&cr&d his future life*.


 * THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

He discovered an early propenfity to the ftudy of poetry, and began to write verfes in his tenth year, as appears by the following description of a Storm, written at that age, and publiftied by Dr. Hobertfon, in the 9th vol. of " The Statiftical Account of Scotland," which niuft be allowed to be a very correct and manly performance for a boy of ten.

What penetrating mind can rightly form A faint idea of a raging ftorm ? Who can eiprefs of elements the war ; And noify thunder roaring from afar I This fubject is fuperior to my (kill ; Yet I'll begin, to (how I want not will.

A pitchy cloud difplays itfelf on high ; And with its fable mantle veils the flcy : Fraught with the magazine of heaven does throw *" Bolts barb'd with fire upon the world below. All nature (hakes and the whole heavens fmoke ; Nor can the grofs black cloud fuftain the (hock : But op'ning from his magazines doth roll, Thick fmoke and flames of fire from pole to pole. Thence hail, fnow, vapour, mix'd with flames of fire< With conjunct force againft the earth confpire. Monfters f feaand land do loudly roar, And make the deep refound from (horc to more. The fpumy waves come rolling from afar, And with loud jars declare the wat'ry war. They upward mount, and raife their crefts on high, And beat the middle regions of the Iky. Downwards they fall upon the fwelling deep, And tofs the rigging of fome low funk (hip : Upwards they tow'r and falling down again, They bury men" and cargo in the main. The boiling deep doth from her low funk cell Throw out black waves refembling thofe of hell. They forward roll and hideoufly do roar, And vent their rage againtt the rocky (hore.

At the age of thirteen, he wasfent to the Univerfity of Edinburgh, where he diftinguiflied him- felf in the different claffes of languages, philof phy and theology; and formed many of thofe friendships and connections which afforded him much happinefs through life.

Among the number of his fellow collegians, with whom he lived in habits of the clofeft inti macy, were Dr. Robertfon, Mr. John Home, Dr. M'Ghie, and Profeffor Cleghorn. Dr. Ro* bertfon afterwards and Mr. Home figured high in the literary world. Dr. M'Ghie went to Lon don, obtained the friendfhSp of Dr. Johnfon, and became a member of the Ivy-lane Club. Profeffor Cleghorn, a man of great premife, died young.

His intellectual faculties of every fort now began to make a rapid progrefs, the caufe of which may, in a great meafure, be attributed to the converfation of the companions he chanced to- find in the uuiverfity, and to the focieties which, about that time, Began to be formed among the ftu- dents for their mutual improvement in literary compofition, philofophical difquifition, and public fpeaking, in which his talents found ample fcope and encouragement.

His coavejfation with men of tafte and learning, and the excitement which their example would give to his emulation, would do more towards the improvement of his mind than any lectures he eould attend, or any mode of ftudy he could puriue. The prefent writer would not, however, have it thought, that he conceives either of thefe to be without their ufe ; he would only affirm, that they hold a fecondary place, when compared with the fociety of fnch men as it Was his felicity to find contemporary ftudents in the univerfity.

It was Hkewife very fortunate for him, that, during the courfe of his education at Edinburgh, he became known to David Hume and Dr. Fergufon, and, at a later period, to Dr. Smith, by all of whom he was held in a higher light than a common acquaintance.

In literary focieties, and private converfation, he had an opportunity of being thoroughly ac- with the capacities, as well as the 'tempers and difpofitions of his contemporaries,

THE LIFE OF WILKIE. vil

Of all his acquaintance, he regarded Dr. Smith with the greateft admiration, and Dr. Fergufon with the greateft affedion. He confidered Dr. Smith as a fuperior genius to Mr. Hume. He poffeffed, in his opinion, equal learning, and greater originality and invention ; for what may appear ftrange,he by no means confidered Mr. Hume as an original or inventive genius. The fubtlety of his reafuniog, the extent of his reading, the depth and folidity of hs reflections, he greatly admired, but ftill he thought that he did not draw ib much as Dr. Smith, or even Lord Kames, from the (lores of his own mind. He faid that he trod in the footfteps of Bolingbmke, and certain French philofophers ; that he greedily imbibed their ideas, and was ftudious to glean what they left behind them ; that he informed himfelf with great induftry of the opinions and views f great men, in all ages of the world, compared them together, preferred what he thought beft, drew corollaries from their reafoning, and, on the whole, exhibited a ftrik.ng example ef induftry and of judgment. But he availed himfelf of the ignorance of the world to pafs that as new, which in reality was old ; and that his ideas were either borrowed from other writers, or deductions and improvements on conclufions already eftabliihed.

Such was the opinion entertained by Wilkie concerning Mr. Hume. Invention is a power which mult needs {land high in the admiration of a poet, and Wilkie fpoke like a poet, when he magnified its praife, as if it had been a divine impulfe, an immediate infpiration, which operated its effedts inftantaneoufly, and without that leifurely and gradual procefs which takes place in every produc tion of human genius.

The ideas of men are linked together by a chain of aflbciation. Wilkie, perceiving, or thinking that he perceived the fteps by which Mr. Hume was led to the doctrines he advanced, but not dif- cerning, in like manner, the procefs by which Dr. Smith was led to the formation of his theories, pronounced the former a man of induftry and judgment, and the latter a man of induftry and genius.

It certainly matters not whether a hint be derived from a book, or from converfation, or an ac cidental occurrence in the material or moral world. Every idea is derivative. What is faid of genius and invention, in contradiftindtion to memory and judgment, is commonly vague and inde finite

Wilkie appears to have had a predilection for Dr. Smith, otherwife in the exuberance of his own

, invention, he might have difcovered or conjcdlured that the firft hints of the " Theory of" Moral

Sentiments," a theory fo amiable, fo ufeful in life, and to a certain and important extent, fo juft,

may have been originally fuggefted by fome thoughts in the " De Augmentit Scicntiarum" of Bacon,

or from Dr. Butler's " Sermons on Human Nature."

While he was profecuting his literary ftndies at Edinburgh, his father died, and left him no other inheritance than the ftock and unexpired Icafe of his farm at the Fiflier's Tryfte, about two miles weft from that city, and the charge of his three fillers ; having fold his property at Rathobyres, a fhort time before his death, and applied the purchafe-money to the payment of his debts. '.

For the occupation of a farmer, which this melancholy event devolved upon him, he was emi nently qualified, both by his habits of {peculation and experience ; having been accuftomed, as he grew up, to divide with his father the bufinefs of the farm, which, a is ufual in thofe of fmall ex tent, was chiefly cultivated by the common labour of the family.

Confiding, however, in the powers of witich he was confcious, he feem not to have trailed for his future maintenance to his exertions as a farmer; for, while he managed his farm, he profecut- ed his ftudies in divinity, and commenced preacher of the gofpel.

The narrownefs of his circumftances obliged him to live with great economy, and it was during this period, owing particularly to the neceflitles of his fituatjon, that he contracted an uncommon degree of parfimony, which he pradifed more than was neceflary in his future life.

About this time one of his filters was married to Mr. John Cleghorn, farmer at Granton, in the parifh of Cramond, a man of ftrong parts, very amiable difpofition, and great ability in his prc- feffion. With him he contracted the moft intimate habits of friendfhip and correfpondence. In all matters of hufbandr j and common life, be quoted, Mr, Cleghorn's practice and maxims, s the

a THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

ftandard of perfection in every conversion. He was his moft confidential friend through life, and they died about the fame time.

From Mr. Cleghorn he probably derived many of thofe maxims and principles in hufbandry which he praclifed with amazing fuccefs in the management of his farm. He became eminent in many branches of fcience ; but in nothing did he excel more than in a thorough and profound knowledge of the art of hulbandry. He ufed often to fay, that to difcern properly the real qua lities of different foils, and to apply, with fuccefs, the culture proper for each, required the higheft exertion of the human underftanding.

Though he was, in many refpeds, the moft fpeculative and fanciful man in the world, yet he was very careful, in the character of a farmer, to avoid the chemical theories, and to adhere to the plain, <5ire<5t, and fure road of experience. He wasTully convinced that, to open the earth for the admiflion of the foflering influences of heaven, and to return into her lap her own produce, whether in the form of- vegetables or animals, was the great art of promoting her fertility, and preparing her for the important work of reproduction. Dead horfes, dogs, cats, and animals of all kinds, he was at pains to pick up, and to convert them into a pabulum for ufeful vegetables. Every thing that abounded with the principles of vegetation he was eager to add to his dunghill. He watched his people, often fhared in their labour, and made it a rule to encourage good fer- vants, both by better wages, and by encomiums and little premiums ; but, on no account, would fuffer the vicious, or the 'flothful, to live with him on any terms. He feemed to be particularly fwccefsful in the culture of potatoes, and was often, from this circumflance, denominated the Pta- tc-Minijler.

In this courfe of life, he had much intercourfe with the country people in the way of making bargains ; from which he took occafion to ma,ke many curious remarks on human nature. There was nothing about the lower ranks of men that Ttruck him fo much as their cunning. ' I can raife crops," he would exclaim, " better than any of my neighbours ; but I am always cheated in the. market."

In the midfl of all thefe operations of agriculture, he found leifure to cultivate the ftudy of po lite literature, and afpired to the renown of an epic poet.

There is not a doubt that poets are moved by the divine impulfe of the " heavenly mufe ;** the power of melancholy;" or by whatever name that invifible caufe is called, which produces that inward thrilling which feeks to exprefs itfelf in verfe ; yet do local and political circumftances incline the poet to ftir up the gift that is within him ; and, but for thefe circumftances, Wilkie would not perhaps have known that he was born a poet. He made ru fcruple of confefling, that he thought it good policy to roufe his poetical talents, and to liften to the dilates of the *' powers of fong."
 * fpirit that infpired on Horeb the chofen fhepherd ;" the "powers of fong;" the " pbiiofophic

When he had quitted the college, and found himfelf deftitute of powerful friends, he be gan to meditate on the moft probable means of introducing himfelf to the notice of the great. To compofe a book in philofophy would be doing nothing : It might be read by a few men of learning, moft of whom had, in all likelihood, fixed their philofophical creed, and imagined, that whatever was contradictory to their notions was falfe, and whatever paffed the circle of theirknow- ledge, fuperfluous. He once intended to write a novel ; but that fpecies of writing, though it re quired the fineft parts, was not likely to lead to any preferment. The world, though well pleafei to laugh at the fancies of the novelift, would not, he apprehended, think of rewarding him. In the whole circle of fcience and art, there was not any ftudy that appeared to him at once fo con genial to his powers, and fo conducive to his intereft, as poetry. He, therefore, determined to write an epic poem.

Among the various analogies which the active fancy of man delights to trace between po litical and human bodies, there is none more ftriking than that fimilarity which is remark ed between their different geniufes in the different ftages of their exiftence. In youth, and in. manhood, we* look forward to fome object which is to inereafe our happinefs, and to raife ou?

THE LIFE OF WILKI1. it

fame. Animated by fuch pleafing hopes, our fpirits are lively, and our ptirfuits are aclive; but, in more advanced years, men turn back their attention to the more early period of their lives, and are fond of recollecting and relating the joys and .the achievements of their youth. There is, in like manner, a time when nations look forward to future glory, when they are emulous to excel in every honourable enterprife, and are eager to ftrike out new paths in fcience and art. And there is alfo a time when, either through fatiety or defpair, they are more inclined to remember what has been, than to anticipate what (hall be ; when hiftory becomes the favourite ftudy, and is deem ed the mott entertaining fubjed, as well as the moft ufeful abjed of human attention and reafoa. Such is the genius of 'our nation at the prefent moment. And this turn of the nation, coinciding with that ardour for literary fame, which, for more than forty years pad has diftinguifhed the northern part of this ifland, has determined the moft eminent Scottifb writers to try their ftrength in the arduous attempt of hiftory.

Had Wilkie been born and educated in the prefent reign, it is probable that he would have courted the hiftoric mufe. But the general tafte for poetry which prevailed when he received the firft impreflions of education, a fprightly and luxuriant imagination, and the political motive, which has been already mentioned, confpired to raife his views to Parnaffus. A few years before his birth, fenators and ftatefmen were proud of writing verfes; and a talent for poetry was confidercd as a requifite, as it was in reality a ftep to preferment in the offices of government. The princei, in whofe reign he was born and educated, were not indeed pitrons of the mufes : But poetry con tinued to be in fafliion. The tranflations of Pope had excited a general admiration of his own powers, and revived a veneration for thofe of Homer. Criticifms were written on the Epopicea, and companions made between Homer, Virgil, Lucan, Camocns, Ariofto, Tuflb, Milton, Voltaire, and Glover.

In fuch circumftances, Wilkie conceived the defign of writing a poem after that great poet, whofe praifes were re-echoed throughout the world, and for whom he entertained the higheft veneration. He drew the fubjed of his poem from the fourth book of the " Iliad," where Sthenelus gives A- gameninon a fhort account of the facking of Thebes. After the fall of thofe heroes colebrated by Statius, their fons, and, among the reft, Ditmed, undertook the ficge of that city, and were fo fortu nate as to fucceed in their enterprife, and to revenge, on the Thebans and the tyrant Creon, the death of their fathers. Thefe young heroes were known to the Greeks under the title of the Epi- gcni, or the Dependents ; and, for this rcafon, Wilkie gave to his poem the title of the Efigoniad,

There remained a tradition among the Greeks, that Homer had taken this fecond fiege of Thebes for the fubjed of a fecond poem, which is loft; and Wilkie fcems to have pleafed himfelf with the thoughts of reviving the work, as well as of treading in the fteps of his favourite author.

The principles upon which, as a CKriftiau and a philofopher, in an age which rejeds ancient fable as wholly incredible, he engaged in an undertaking, the nature of which was intimately con nected with ancient mythology, may be collected from the following eulogium on the influence of poetry, more particularly that fpecies of poetry which fuppofes the truth of heathen fable, pronounced in converfation with Dr. Thomfon, many years after, in the Earl of Kuanou! 1 ! li brary at Dupplin-Caftle, which, though long, is too valuable to be withheld.

" There cannot be a more proper amufement for a perfon whole office it 'i to humanife the mind by inculcating the Chriftian graces and virtues than the poets. All literature has a tendency to purify the mind from difingenuity and brutality, by habituating it to the contemplation of truth, in contradiftindion to falfehood and error ; of fitzrefs and propriety, as diftinguifhed from what is incongruous, monftrous, and abfurd ; and of human nature placed in fituations fitted to excite our fympathetic feelings, and to exercife our noble and virtuous emotions and paffions. It is in this laft manner, it is by a conftant appeal to cur moral feelings, that poetry, efpecially the fublimec kinds of poetry, wears off the antipathies of the barbarian, and difpoies the man of letters and ufte in the intercourfe of life, to overlook many caufes of animofity and refemment, and to fympathize with human nature in the midft of a thoufand frailties and follies. By the fublime kinds of poetry I undcrftand the ode, tragedy, and epopcea: Thefe not only recommend whatever is excellent and

6


 * THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

great in human conduct, to the cool and difpaflionate views of reafon, but powerfully imprefs it 01 the heart, and gradually incorporate it with the moral character. In human events and actions there is a famenefs which cloys, and an imperfection which difpleafes the mind. Heroic or epic poetry remedies thefe defects, by exhibiting a picture as various as the wanderings of the imagina tion, and examples of virtue that correfpond to thofe abftracted ideas of excellence that are formed by the intellect, and which alone come up to the defires of the foul. Although the whole of a composition of this kind abounds in grave inftructions, yet there is one leflbn which is taught above all others, one truth which it principally inculcates, and which is called the moral of the poem. This truth or moral is illuftrated by a ftory or fable ; and as the heroic poet does not moot directly and rapidly towards the end he has in view, but, on the contrary, keeps long on the wing, and aims, in his flight, to warm the mind, and to gratify its vaft defires by frequent views of the grandeur, magnificence, and beauty of nature. This fable, ftory, or plot, various and intricate in itfelf, is ftill farther diverfified by manifold incidents and digrefiions ; various fcenes are opened, various actors introduced, various characters and manners, and, correfponding to thefe, various fen- timents. .The variety and gravity of the diction are fuited to the variety and gravity of the fub- ject ; and mufical numbers, with beautiful imagery, adorn every part of the complicated production."

'* He illuftrated the truth of thefe fentiments" fays Dr. Thomfon, by whom the converfation is reported, " from the works of Taflb and of Milton, but chiefly from the " Iliad" of Homer. I mentioned the incredibility of Homer's fables, and hinted that they were fcarcely proper for the contemplation of a Chriftian. On this head, I was not myfelf very fcrupulous, being convinced that, to fuffer the imagination to wander, for a time, over the fields of fancy, is no crime. It is eafy to call back the wanderer, and to difmifs the illufion : But I wifhed to draw an anfwer from Wilkie. With refpect to the incredibility of fable, the imagination, he anfwered, can render any thing cre dible, if it is well defcribed, that is not abfurd or impoffible. As to the unchriftiannefs of attend ing to heathen fables, he faid that there were many fables in the Bible, introduced for the expref* purpofe of conveying and inculcating truths, religious and moral. Many of the heathen fables, he maintained, had, in like manner, a moral tendency : For example, the furious Achilles and Diomed are about to vent their rage in fome act of cruelty and injuftice. Minerva prefents herfelf in fume form or other that they refpect, and diverts their purpofe. That is, the voice of reafon reftrains the impetuofity of paffion."

The differences of time and place had no effect upon Wilkie's genius. While he cultivated, the ground, his poem cf The Epigoniad was going forward ; and, with the fcythe in his hand, he medi tated on the times when princes and heroes boafted of their powers and fkill, in cutting hay, ploughing land, and feeding fwine. The rural fcenes and fimple manners that were ever prefent in his imagination, accorded well with the tone of a poem, the fubject of which was taken from a very early period of fociety, and contributed to give a juftnefs and exactnefs to his images, which are not to be found in the compofitions of city poets, who draw little from nature, and take every thing at fecond hand.

It was reported, that while he was writing the Epigoniad^ it is faid, he read it in pieces to an old woman in the neighbourhood, named Margaret Paten, without communicating to an,y other perfon what he was doing; and what fhe difapproved of, he fcored and altered, till pure nature was pleafed. A fimilar ftory is told of Moliere, with more probability.

There is a tradition alfo, that, upon fome occafion, he fubmitted his verfes to the correction of Mr. Hume. Mr. Hume addreffed Wilkie, by telling him, that he had made a great many emen dations. Wilkie, upon looking flightly at them, replied : " Well, I will be even with you ; for I will not adopt fo much as one of your corrections."

His manner of life at the Fifher's Tryfte was the moft refpeetable that could be imagined. He profecuted his literary ftudies, he tilled the ground, employed the poor, provided for his fifter*, and on Sundays eccafionally preached the gofpel. This, indeed, was no hardfhip.to him ; for ib general was his knowledge, fo lively his imagination, and fo quick his" recollection, that he preached jaot only without writing his fermons, but fometimes even without longer premeditation than that of eight or ten miuutes. ' He went one day to bear fennon in the church of Ratho, and, as h<r

THE LIFE OF WILKIE. xJ

Walked along witWf the minifter from the manfe to the church, was clofely prefled by him to preach for him. He at firft made many excufe-s, but was fo extremely urged, that he at laft con- fented, provided the minifter would name the text; a condition which was readily complied with. This anecdote is related by Dr. Thomfon, who was told by a nobleman who was prefent, and who was a good judge, that the fermon was excellent.

In the rebellion 1745, a generous ftart of loyal fervour had excited the young people about Edin burgh, many of them Wilkie's companions, to take the field ; but the abfurdity of rifking the flower of the country made it foon be overruled ; and Wilkie was remarked to have been the only perfoa who left the ranks : Hence infinuations againft his perfonal courage. Perhaps he faw the foe lifhnei* of the thing : At ieaft, there are no other evidences of the kind againft him ; and it is certain, that being once dogged by a foot-pad, in a dark night, on his way to Ratho, he turned upon him, and, with one blow of his cane acrofs the temples, brought him to the ground. This anecdote is relat ed upon the authority of Dr. Robertfon.

After the clofe of the rebellion, and the reftoration of the peace of the country, he returned to his farm, and refumed the quiet occupations of agriculture and literature, in which he fpent feveral years, little known to the world, and holding little intercourfe with it, excepting with a few litera ry friends and companions.

The Fifher's Tryfte, lying in the immediate vicinity of Gorgie, the property of Mr. Lind flierifF- fubftitute of Mid-Lothian, he became acquainted with Wilkie at an early period, and, from their firft acquaintance, ftrongly attached himfelf to his interefts.

Mr. Lind was very capable of difcerning his merit, gave him a general invitation to his houfc, introduced him into the company of his numerous acquaintance, and made him known to the Duke of Argyll, the Earl of Lauderdale, Lord Milton, Lord Kames, Mr. Charles Townfhend, and many other perfons of rank.

In 175*, Mr. Guthric, minifter of Ratho, being rendered incapable, by age and infirmitiet, of difcharging the duties of his office, an afiiftant was found neceflary. Mr. Lind recommended Wil kie to the Earl of Lauderdale, the patron of that parifh, for that office, and obtained his Lordf ihip's corfent to allow him to preach at Ratho.

When Wilkie was introduced at Hatton, Lord Lauderdale was much pleafed with the origina lity of his genius and eatenfive knowledge ; and fo much entertained with a thoufand peculiarities in his manner of thinking and reafoning on every fubje<5t, that he rtfolved immediately to make him affiftant and fucceflbr to Mr. Guthrie ; and, for this purpofe, he generoi.fly eftablifhed a fund of 30 1. for his annual fupport, without diminifturg the ftipend during the life of the old man.

Accordingly, on the I7th of May 1753, Wilkie Was ordained, by the Prefbytery of Edinburgh, afliftant and fucceflbr to the minifter of Ratho. In this fituation, he continued three years and a half, living all that time on his little farm, about four miles diftant, and faithfully performing the duties of his office in the parifh. On the death of Mr. Guthrie, Feb. a8th 1756, he came into poffeffion of the whole living, and fettled, with his fitters, in the manfe of Ratho.

Agriculture had been a peculiar object of his attention from his youth ; and he now gave full fcope to his genius for improvement, though on a fmall fcale. His glebe, which he found in great diforder, he immediately onclofed in a judicious manner, and cultivated it with fuch ability, that it continued to produce the mod abundant crops.

A piece of marftiy ground belonging to the glebe, in the name of pafture-ground, of near five acres, which, from time immemorial, had been of fo little value, that the highefl rent given for it was haif-a-guinea yearly, he enclofed with a deep ditch and hedge ; and interfered it with Aich a variety of drains, moil judicioufly difpofed, that it became matter of aftonifhment to the country in general, and of ridicule to many ; but the event juftified his ability, for it produced a feries of mofl beneficial crop*, and ftill continues valuable.

He alfo proje&ed a fociety for the improvement of agriculture and rural economy, .called Tfa Uujbandry Club, which met at Ratho, and confifted of a great number of the gentlemen and prin cipal farmers in the neighbourhood. The excellent regulations, eflabli&ed for the government of-

xft THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

the club, and the great variety of interefting aad judicious queftiorrs, propofed as fub}e<2s of thci deliberation and difcuflion, in all which he had a principal fhare, will long continue to do honour to his memory.

This fociety, of which Wilkie may be confidered as the founder, was conducted, for many years, with great fpirit and fuccefs. Its records, according to the information of Mr. Robertfon, contain diflertations on many practical fubjects in agriculture, of much merit. The name of the celebrated Dr Cullen appears in the lift of the members.

While he refided at Rarho, he had much intercourfe with the Landerdale family, snd was, at all times, a welcome vifitant at Hatton. His noble patron was fond of his converfation, and often en gaged him in difpuration ; and, perhaps, he never met with an antagonift who afforded him greater tfcope for the exertion of all his powers. Through life, he retained the ftrongeft attachment to the, Zarl of Lauderdale, and valued him more for his good underftanding, his great knowledge of men and manners, and his uncommon humanity, than for his high rank. His fentiments, with rcfpedfc to the Earl, were well known to all his acquaintances ; for there was nothing more common than his retailing his Lordfhip's maxims and opinions in every company and converfation.

In 1757, he published at Edinburgh The Epigoniad, a Poem, in Nine Books, lamo, the refult of fourteen years ftudy and application, and claimed the honours of an epic poet. His claim, how ever, to this difthiction was not generally allowed. His work was applauded by a few men of tafte and learning, but was coldly received by the public, and cenfured, with great feverity, by the writers of periodical criticifm, on account of a few miftakes in exprefiion and profody, excufable in a Scottifh poet, who had never been out of his own country. The title, it mud be confeffed, was fomewhat unfortunately chofen; for as the ftory of the Fftgoni was known only to a very few of the learned, the public were not able to conjecture what could be the fubject of the poem, and were apt to neglect what it was impoffible to underfland. The Preface contained fome ju dicious and fpirited remarks OH the beauties and defects of epic poetry, but afforded little infor mation concerning the fubject of the poem. There was no general plan prefixed to the whole, r.or argument, as might be expected, at the head of each book. It was inscribed, in the manner cf Camoens and Taffo, to Archibald Duke of Argyll, a nobleman, who, by patronizing the arts and Sciences, rivalled the glory of his elder brother Duke John, whofe political and military talents

aaade him to be defervedly efteemed one of the firft ftatefmen and heroes oL his time.

s

Argyll, the date's whole thunder born to wield, And fhake alike the fenate and the field.

POPE.

In 1759, ne publifiied a fccond edition of Tie Epigomad, &e. by William Wilkie, P. D. M. Care- fully torrefied and imprwtd. To ivbicb is added, a Dream, in the manner of Spcnfir, izmo. In this e~ <sfition, all or moflf of the Scoticifms, and other trivial miftakes in the firft edition, were correct ed. A paflage alfo in the Preface, containing a rafli cenfure of " the quaintnefs of Mr. Pope's ex- prefllon,in his tranflation of the " Iliad" and " Odyflfey," as not at all fuitable either to the an tiquity or majeftic gravity of his author," was very properly omitted. Mr Hume gives the fol lowing account of its reception in London, in a letter to Dr. Smith, dated April ia. 1759 : " The Epigoniad, I hope, will do, but' it is fomewhat up-hill work. You will fee in the " Critical Review," a letter upon that poem, and I defire you to employ your conjectures in finding out the author." The letter in the " Critical Review," was written by Mr. Hume, to recommend The Eptgoniad to the public, " as one of the ornaments of our language." The fuecefs was not anfwerable to his expectations. Too antique to pleafe the unlettered reader, and too modern for the ftholar, it wa neglected by both, read by few, and foon forgotten by all.

Soon after his coming to Ratho, he was feized with an unformed ague, from which he was never" perfectly relieved during the reft of his life. For this complaint, he thought an extraordinary per- fpiration was necelfary. He flept with an immoderate quantity of bed-clothes, and fweated fo much, that it was thought to have had an effect in relaxing his constitution. The blankets under Which he flept became a wonder to the country; ftories are told of twenty- four pair of blankets being above him : And this may have been the cafewhea he was BO; in hit awn bed; but, in gg* neral, hit corering was xnuch lighter.

THE LIFE OF WfLKlK. xiii

The fuppoied unhealthinefs of the manfe of Ratho gave him the firft Inclination to change his fi- tuation, and the profefforfhip of Natural Philofophy in the Univerfity of Sr. Andrew's becom ing vacant in May 1759, by the death of Mr. David Young, he became a candidate for that office. Several candidates appeared, and Willcie was not then acquainted with one member io the, Univer- iity. As it happened to be the time of the meeting of the General Affembly, he was introduced to fuch of them as were then at Edinburgh, and found avenues of applicatiun to them all ; bur Dr, Watfon was the only member who difcerned his merit, and effectually promoted his intereft; for, when the day of election came (July 1/59), the other pmfeffors had attached tbemielv.es, ia equal numbers, to two other candidates; and when neither party could, by any influence, alter Dr. Watfon, one of the parties joined him, and gave the election in favour of Wilkie.

When he left Rarho, he was worth about acol. from the fale of the flock upon his farm, and livings from his flipend. With this money he purchafed fome acres of land in the neighbourhood of St. Andrew's. He enclofed and cultivated his little fields' with fuch judgment and fuccefs, as ex cited the ailonifhment, commanded the imitation, and promoted the improvement of the country round him, and contributed, in a high degree, to hi* own emolument. H& gradually extended his purrhafe*, his improvements, and his profits, and is fnppofed to have acquired a property in land worth 3000!.; and has, in his fo rapid accumulation, Icfc an equally eminent example of ability and economy.

As a teacher of natural philofophy, bis ufual merit did not forfakc hfm. Natural philofophjr, he faid himfelf, was his fortt. Though, by an univerfal geuiu, he fhone in this department of fcience, yet his friends generally imagined that languages, logic, metaphyfics, or moral philofo phy, would have been more fuitable to his tafte and inclinations.

In 1768, he publifhed his Fables, 8vo. They are fixteen in number, and a frontifpiece, defign- ed by Wale, is prefixed to each fable. Previous to the publication of his Fabla* the Uuiverfity of St. Andrew's conferred upon him the degree of Doctor in Divinity

From this time noth'ng of importance occurred in the life of Wilkie. He is LiJ to have broke off connection with Mr. Hume and Dr. Robertfon, fome time before his death.

After a lingering indifpofition, he died at St. Andrew's, October loth 1773, in the ^iflyear of his age. His two fifters, to whom he left nis property, are flill living at St. Andrew's. Hjo- left his MSS to the care of Mr. Lifton, who has not publifhed any of his literary remains.

No edition of his ILpigtniad or Yablts has been called for fince his death. They arc now, reprinted from the edition 1759 and 1768^ for the firft time, received into collection of claffical Englifb poetry.

In 1768, when the prefent writer was at Lanark fchool, his admiration of Wilkie induced him to tranfcribe from a manufcrij-t in the Ear] of Hyndfoid's library at Curmichael-houfe, a poem, intituled; " Whitton, a defcriptive poem, with notes, infcribed to the Duke of Argyll, by W. W." fuppofifd to mean William Wilkit ; but he has not ventured to give it to Wilkie upon fuppofi- tion.

Of hi* character, private habits, domeftic manners, and opinions, curiofity will require more ample information than is to be found in the following notices, which the diligence of Profeffor Dalzel has collected, and the zeal and veneration of Mr. Robertfon, Mr. Lifton, Dr. Thomfon, and Dr. Robertfnn, have fupplied.

" He was always," fays a paper, communicated by an ingenious but not literary friend of Wil- liie, to Frofeffor Daizel, " fond of being in the company of old men and old women, from the 8th year of his age ; and they always liked him, as he delighted in their converfation ; and he rapt out fomething new, whatever was the fubje6t He had read the ancient philofuphers and poets very early. Hefiod was a favourite poet of his, and he very often quoted him to perfons who knew no thing about him. His conversation was moft original and ingenious. It had a mixture of know ledge, acutenefs and fmgularity, which rendered it peculiarly delightful ; and everyperfon who fpent an hour with him, carried away fomething which he was glad to repeat. He had a firm faith ia the truth of the Chri&an religion. Jig employed a considerable portion of his time ia reading ;hc

ttv THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

Scriptures, and he kept up the worfhip of God regularly in his family. While he was a parifli mi* nifter, he was acceptable to his people ; and, in every fituation of his life, he was kind to perfons in fiftrefs, and very liberal in his private charity. His temper was haity, but void of malice or four- nefs ; and he was always cheerful. He was fond of agriculture, and remarkable for his knowledge of the different branches of it. The people in the neighbourhood of St. Andrew's acknowledge t this day, that they have derived many ufefol leffons from Dr. Wilkie's management of his fartn." " In his public capacity as a preacher," fays Mr. Robertfon, 4 * he was rather original and inge nious than eloquent; and, though he never purfued the ordinary a&s of popularity, never failed t fix the attention of his audience. The peculiarity, variety, and even eccentricity of his lentiments or reafoning, invariably procured him approbation. In his public character, he obferved a thoufand oddities and inattentions. He generally preached with his hat on his head, and often forgot to pro nounce the blefling after public fervice. Once 1 faw him ditpenfe the facrament without confe. crating the elements. On being told, he made a public apology, confecrated, and ferved the fecpnd table ; after which, he went to the pulpit to fuperintend the fervice, forgetting to communicate Jhlmfelf, till informed of the omiflion by his elders. In his drefs, he was uncommonly negligent and fLvenly, and, in his whole manner of life, totally inattentive to all thofe little formalities on which the generality of mankind are apt to value themfelves. He was immoderately ^ddidted to tlie afe of tobacco, particularly chewing, in which he went to fuch extreme excefs, that it was thought, by all his acquaintance, highly prejudicial to his health, and perhaps a caufe of his prema ture death. He was fond of medical aid, but always difputed, and often rejected the prefcriptions of ars : Hence was thought whimfical, both in his compliments, and in his management of them. He flept with an immoderate quantity of bed-clothes. One day he vifited a, farmer in the neigh bourhood 1, a relation of his own ; when prevailed on to ftay all night, he begged he might have plenty of bed-clothes. His female friends in the family colle&ed and put on his bed 14 pair of blankets. When aiked, next morning, if he had plenty of bed-clothes, he anfwered, he had juft enough, and had flept well. He abhorred nothing fo much as clean fheets, and whenever he met with fuch, he wrapt them up, threw them afide, and flept in the blankets. One evening, at Katton, being alked by Lady Lauderdale to ftay all night, he expreffed an attachment to his own bed, but faid, if her ladyfhip would give him a pair of foul fheets, he would flay."

and produced that ftrong attention to money-matters, with which he has been reproached by thofe wno could not explain it. It proceeded, in fadl, from a Angular love of independence, the paflion of 9 ftately mind. He fhuddered at the thought of coming under the power of any man, and could liardly think of walking the ftreets, left any perfon, to whom he was indebted, (hould meet him. When his father died, he had to borrow the money that was to bury him. He went to an uncle for jo I. and was refufed. Thefe events could but ill fit upon Bit mind. After he came to better days, " I have often heard him fay," fays Mr. Lifton, " 1 have fhaken hands with povertyup to the very elbow, and I wifh never to fee her face again." Hence a parfimony to the extreme. Yet, n wealth, would we brand him with the love of money for its own fake. Another paffion came in : He loved his relations ; and it was his common maxim, that no man {hould ever break with bis kindred. He was not long minifter of Ratho, till he apprehended his life would be fhort : He bad two fitters that he feared would be left deftitute, immediately upon his death. Apprehenfive on their account, he always lived plain, heaped up every penny, and at laft died worth two or three thoufand pounds ; not fo much acquired by favings, however, as by a rapid profit from his own favourite a& of agriculture, in the perfect {kill of which no man excelled him. At the fame time, after the fhort period that he became pofieffed of money, his friends could fee that he could part with it. It was his cuftom to pay the bill, even when travelling with feveral of his relations that could afford their {hare. After he fettled at St. Andrew's, his private charities were not lefs than 20 1. a year. Born for intenfe thought ; for total abfence of mind upon ordinary mat ters ; plunged in poverty in early life, without a domeftic about his perfon, and even without the means of any elegance whatever, he naturally became floveoly, dirty, and even naufeous. He
 * Hard circumftances," fays Dr. Robertfon, " oppreffed Wilkie for the greater part of his life,

THE LIFE OF WILKIE. iv

chewed tobacco to excefs, and at laft made himfelf believe, that it was good for his health. It feems, on all hands agreed, that no mortal was equal to him in converfation and argument. His own explanation of it was, that he took the right fide, while his antagonifts took the wrong, to difplay their ingenuity and learning. 1 have heard the late Dr. Wallace, author of the " Diflerta- tion on the Numbers of Mankind," fay, nobody could venture to cope with him. His knowledge, in almoft all things, was deep, folid, and unanfwerable. His reafoning was plain to a child. In flirewdncfs, he had no rival. Both his manner and thoughts were mafculine, in a degree peculiar to himfelf. Dr. Smith fays, it was an obfcrvation of the late Lord Elibank, that wherever Wilkie's name happened to be mentioned in a company, learned or unlearned, it was not foon dropped : Every body had much to fay. In ihort, he was a great and an odd man. His chara&er, I will venture to fay, will never be fuccefsfully written, but by a great hand ; and even, when writ ten, the theory of the man is above common comprehenfion."

' With regard to Wilkie's faith in Chriftianity," fays Dr. Thomfon, I know, that he faid prayers in his family every evening, after he had laid afide the character of a divine, and grace at table, with his eyes (hut, and his hands folded together, in a pofture of fupplication, and with every mark of the greateft fervour. He would fometimes prolong his graces, at the College-table, be yond the bounds that the keen appetites of the hungry ftudents would have prefcribed to it. Even in thefe fhort prayers there was often feme thought not more devout than pleating and ingenious* For example : " O Lord ! thou art the author of all our wants, and thou fupplieft them, from the inexhaufted ftores of thy bounty." He appeared to be a firm believer in God. The exiftence of a deity he confidered as the fimpleft, and, therefore, the moft rational method of folving the phenomena of the univerfe. This was agreeable to the Newtonian Syftem, which fuppofes a vacuum and liberty of a&ion ; and that a voluntary^/ of God launched forth the heavenly orbs with that degrree of im- pulfe or momentum precifely, which cerrefponded with centripetal force, and which would not carry them beyond their orbits. The moral do&rines of Chriftianity, the divine character of Je- fus Chrift, he held in the moft profound veneration. That facred perfon he undoubtedly confidered as an angel fent from God, to enlighten and to blefs the world. Whether he believed in the ae~ cejjity of an attnement (a dodlrine which, as Dr. Smith obferves in his " Theory of Moral Senti ments," is fo confident with the natural fentiments of mankind), and the other peculiar doctrines of the Chriftian religion, I cannot, with certainty, affirm. He fometimes lamented, that he doubted. But whether this doubt fettled into fcepticifm, or that reafon, and an imagination, fenfible in the higheft degree, to the ravifhing profpedls held out in the gofpel, triumphed over doubt, and con-, firmed kis wavering mind in the Chriftian faith, I know not. He would often exclaim to his moft intimate friends : " O ! if I could firmly believe all the doctrines of Chriftianity, how vain and in- Cpid every enjoyment and every purfuit in thin world would appear !"

" It was remarkable," fays Profeflbr Dalzel, " that Wilkie, with all his learning, could neither read nor fpell. I myfelf was witnefs to his ignorance of the art of reading. When I was a very young man, refiding at Hatton, Wilkie came from St. Andrew's, on a vifit to Lord LawJerdale. He ftaid a few days, and all the perfonal knowledge I had of Wilkie was acquired during that time. " The Judgment of Paris," a poem by Dr. Beattie, was brought to Hatton one of thofe days, as a ne<> publication, Wilkie aiked me to retire with him, that we might read and criticife the poem toge ther. At firft, when he began to read, I imagined he did not wnderftand the verfes at all, as he furely committed the faddeft havoc, in point of quantity and pronunciation, that can well be ima gined, and even mifcalled feveral of the words : And yet his criticifms were fo juft, and fo happily xprcfled, that I was charmed with the elegance of his tafte, and the propriety of his obferva- tions."

As a poet, his compofitions are not lefs diftinguifhed by imagination and judgment, than his manners were remarkable for eccentricity and originality. In both, we are pleafed to find that feeling difpofition which chara&erifes the good man, and the ingenious, fublime and moral poet.

His Epigoniad, if he had written nothing elfe, is fufficient to entitle him to an honourable rank ?.mojg the poets of our .nation, with whom he is now aiTociated. It is a legitimate epic poem, of

xvi THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

the fame fpecics of compofition with the " Iliad" and the " .ffincid," which is univerfally allowed to be, of all poetical works, the moft dignified, and, at the fame time, the mod difficult in execution.

" To contrive a ftory," fays Dr. Blair, in his excellent " Lectures," " which fhall pleafe and intereft all readers, by .being at once entertaining, important, and inftructive, -to fill it vrith luitable incidents, to enliven it with a variety of characters and of defcriptions, and, throughout a long work, to maintain that propriety of fentiment, and that elevation of ftyle, which the epic character requires, is unqueftionably the higheft effort of poetical genius. 1 '

What talents are neceffery ,to fo arduous an attempt ! What vigour of imagination, extent of knowledge, folidity of understanding, and powers of language ! In order to judge whether Wilkie has fucceeded in this exalted fpecies of writing, cr not, an appeal fhould be made, not fo much to the abftracted rules of criticifm, as to the tafte and feeling of the fynopathetic and judicious reader : For it is fentiment orily that can judge of fentiment. When the heart of the reader remains cold and unaffected, the moft elaborate performance is defended, in vain, by all the arc of the mod ex pert rhetorician ; and, on the contrary, where nature is difplayed in jufl colours, and the imagina tion aftoniihed by fcenes of terror, or expanded by fuch as are fublime, a fatisfaction is enjoyed, which is but little marred by a deviation from unity of time, place, or action.

In forming an eftimate of the epic poem of Wilkie, we are to confider what degree of impor tance there is. in his moral, and what of artifice in his fable ; what kind of manners and character* he has exhibited, and if his characters are properly fupported by their fentiments and actions. Are his digreffions natural ? Are his views fublime ? I his imagery beautiful, and his diction varied with his varying fubject ?

It would extend this narrative to an undue length, to examine the Efigoniad, with refpect t each of thefe heads, particularly. We fhall, therefore, content ourfelves with briefly running over the moral, and giving a fhcrt analyfis of the fable, occafionally obferving on other particulars, as we go along, and collecting a few fpecimens of thofe great beauties in which it abounds.

As the end or moral of the " Paradifc Loft" is to fhow the bitter fruits that fpring from difq- bedience to the laws of God; and as the end or moral of the " Iliad" is to difplay the fatal efFecta of furious and deep refentment and difcord, fo the moral of the Epigoniad teaches the dire difafters that flow from the pafiion of love. This leffon is inculcated by a {lory interwoven with primeval Manners, and with Grecian mythology. The firft of thefe circumftances is rather an advantage than a difadvantage, as we are acquainted with the manners defcribed, not only from the writings of Homer, but alfo from thofe .of Mofes, and as they diffufe over the poem an air of ve nerable fimplicity : The fecond could not, be avoided, it being an article in the Grecian creed, that the gods often interpofe vifibly and bodily in human affairs : nor, is the incredibility of my thology fo great a difadvantage in poetry, as may be imagined : For, firft, as there is a degree of belief that attends the vivid perception of every object, the beautiful and confiftent tales that are told by the poets, o the gods and other fuperior beings, gain a temporary credit ; and this is fufficienfi for the purpofe of tke poet. Secondly, The heathen mythology operates on our minds, with the more facility that it has been imprefled on our minds in our youth. We are acquainted with the different characters of the gods and goddeffes; we know, beforehand, what part they are likely to act on particular occafions, and are pleafed when we find the poet fupporting, with pro priety, the character of each. A like obfervation may be extended to .the heroes and other famous perfonages of antiquity. We are acquainted, as it were, with their perfons ; we are fntere fted in their fortunes, and, therefore, we are infinitely more affeded by fcenes in which they appear a* aftors,than we would be by fcenes in which a poet fhould introduce perfons and fictions with which we are wholly unacquainted. Boileau, the grcateft critic of the French nation, was of this opinion i

" La fable offre a 4' efprit mille agrements divers, La tous les noms heureux femblent nez pour les vers Ulyffe, Agamemnon, Orefte, Idoraenee, Kclcae, Menelas, Paris, Hcftcr, Enec."

THE LIFE OF WILKIE. xvu

It is certain, that there is, in that poetic ground, a kind 'of enchantment which allures every perfon of a tender and lively imagination nor is this impreflion diminifh-^d, but rather much in- crrafed by our early introduction to the knowledge of it, in our perufal of the Greek and Latin daffies. The fame great French critic makes the apology of Wiikie in his ufc of the ancient my* thology.

" Ainfi dans cet amas de noble fictions,

Le poete s'egaye en niillc inventions, "

Orne, eleve, embellit, agrandit tontes chofes,

>t trouve s'ons fa main des flours toujours cclofes."

It would feem, indeed, that, if fome fupernatural machinery be not admitted, epic pr>etry, at leaft all the marvellous part of it, mull be entirely abandoned. " Without *Jmiration" fays Dr Hurd, in his Letters on Chivalry and Romance" (which cannot be effected but by the marvellous of celefti I intervention, I mean the agency of fuperior nature* really exifting, or by the illufion of the fancy taken to be foi, no epic poem can be long-lived. The Chriftian religion, for rmny reaibns, is unfit for the fabulous ornaments of poetry : The plan of Milton's work being altogether theological, his fupernatural beings form not the machinery, but are the principal actors in the poem. The introduction of allegory, after the manner of Voltaire, is liable to many objections ; and though a mere hiftoncal epic poem like " Leonidas," may have its beauties, it will always be inferior to the force and pathetic words of tragedy, and muft rcfign to that fpecies of poetry the pn-cedency which the former competition has always challenged among the productions of human gcmus,

The fable of the Epigoniad is this t The poet fuppofe*, that CaJJandra, the daughter of Alcander k;ng f Peiixmum in Italy, was purfued by the love of Echetus, a barbarous tyrant in the neigh bourhood and a* h r father rej ,-cted his addreffes, he drew on himftlf the refmtment of the ty rant, who made war upon him, and f -reed him to retire into Etolia, where DiomeJ gave him pro- teilion. This hero falls himfelf in love with Caffandra and is fo fortunate as to make equal im- pr-flions on her heart; but. before 'he completion of his marrria^e, he i* called to the fiege of Thrbes, and leaves, as he fi.ppofes, Caffandra in Etol a with her father. Bat CaJJandra, anxious fof her lover's fafety. and unwilling to pdrr^from the object of her affections, had lecrerly put on a man's habit, had attended him in the camp, and had fought by his fide in all his battles. The poem optus with the a^earance Jthc-ffigom before the u alls of Thebes, refolute to fignalize thc-ir own names, and to redeem the Argiw vlory, by its reduction. The gods, aflembled on the l.u-idred heads of high O ympu- view from afar Thebes doomed to peufh by the Argivet, and principally, by the hand* of > iomed, Juno and Pa'las, favourable to rhe Arg'ves feck the ruin of Thibet I cnus, in order'to fruOrate the defign of b- th 'Juno and Pallas, deli crates concerning the proper method of -ailing the fiege The fitteft expedient feems to be the exciting in Diomed a je .. o.lia in purluit of his miftrefs. Zelotyfe, a Paphian nymph) fprung from Cupid and Aiccto, offers her lervices, for this end, to the

G ddefs thefe (hafts (hall compaf* what you aim, M' m* thrr dipt ^heir points in Stygian flame ? Whirt'er my fatlirr s d^rts their way have found, M < f How deep, and coifon all the wound. B h< fe we lo'-n, with tr.nmph, fhall behold Pallas deer iv'd and Juno's fclf controll'd.

Hrr perfon _and flight are painted in the moft characteriftic habiliments and fplendid coloufi that poetry affords.

Firft to her feet the winged (hoes (he binds, Which tread the air and mount the rapid winds; Aloft they bear her through th' ethereal plain, Above the folia earth and liquid main ; VOL XI.

THE LIFE OF WILKI&

Her arrows next fhe takes, of pointed fteel, For fight too fmall, but terrible to feel. A fitrur'd zone, myfterially defign'd, Around her waift her yellow robe confo'd; There dark Sufpicion lurk'd, of fable hue, There hafty Rage, her deadly dagger drew ; Pale Envy in!y pin'd, and by her fide Stood Frenzy raging with his arm unty'd. Affronted Pride, with thirft of vengeance burn'd, And Love's excefs to deepeft hatred turn'd. The virgin laft, around her fhoulders flung The bow and by her fide the quiver hung : Then, fpringing up, her airy courfe fhe bends For Thebes ; and lightly o'er the tents defcends. The fon of Tydeus midft his bands fhe found In arms complete, repofing on the ground ; And as he flept. the her" thus addrefs'd ; Her form to fancy's waking eye exprefs'd.

moved by the inftigations of jealoufy, and eager to defend his mlflrefs and his coun try, calls an affembly of the confederated kings, and propofes to raife the fiege of Thebes, on ac count of the difficulty of the enterprife and dangers which furround the army. The king* debate concerning the propofal ; and here appears a great diverfity of characters and fentiments, fuitable to each. Tbefeus, the general, breaks out into a pafiipn at the propofal ; but is pacified by Ncftor. Idomeneus rifes, and reproaches Diomed for his difhonourable counfel ; and, among other to pics, upbraids him with his degeneracy from his father's bravery. The debate is clofed by Vlyjjes, who informs the princes,- that the Thebans are preparing to march out in order to attack th.'m, and that it is vain to deliberate any longer concerning the continuance of the war. The kings refoive to proferute the war, and Diomed, though ftung with love, and jealoufy of Echetus, yields to their voice. The nations and tribes that oppofed the Argives, being defcribed in the manner of Homer, a battle commences before the wall* of Thebes ; and the Theban troops, led on by the brave Letphron, the fon of Creen the king, repulfe the enemy. Pallas defcendsto the aid of the jtrgives, in the form of Homo leon, Diomed r s charioteer being flam. Cajfandra, ftill concealed xmder the arms and drefs of a foldier, prefenting herfelf to Diomed, offers to take that office upon herfclf. Diomed declines the offer. Pallas herfelf affumes rhe reins, and conduces Diomed in the fight. He kills Leopbrcn. Every thing gives way to this chief, guided by the wifdom, and forti fied by the arms of the immortal goddefs of Prudence and Wifdom : But Mercury, at the com- xr.and of Jupiter, gives order to Pbabtts to lafh his fteeds, and to conclude the day, left the rapid fuccefs of Diomed fhould precipitate the fall of Thebes before the time fixed by Fate. The darknefs of the night interrupts the fight, and Diomed is ftripped by Mercury of his divine armpur. This battle is full of the fpirit of Homer. And now the Theban princes, according to ancient cuftom, fat in council in the gate ; the, king oppreffed with public cares, and with private grief for the death of his fon Leophron^ propofes to fue for a truce of feven days, that they might grace the dead with funeral obfequies. The prieft of Apollo, accompanied by Clytofbon, repairs to the Argive tents, to aflc a truce ; and here follows a long, but very interefting epifode, that enchants the reader with the wildnefs of Salvator Rofa, and aftonilhes him with the terrors of Sophocles. This epifode is intended as an experiment in that kind of fiction which diftinguifb.es the " Odyf- fey." The Tteban heralds are conducted, with fafety, to the royal tent, where the Argive princes receive them with marks of kindnefs. After a fplendid repaft, Clytopbon, with great art, ad- dreffes the Pylian chief Nejhr, reminds him that he was his gueft (a circumftance which formed a ftrong band of friendfhip, as it does ftill among barbarous nations) when he fled from the defert ftores of Trinacria : Having gained the favour and the attention of Nejlor, he relates the wonderful ftory of his life. Ciytoplon was the youngeft fon of Orfilochus, king of Rhodes.

THE LIFE OF WILKTE. lit

His yrungeft hope I was, and fcarce had feen The tenth returning fummer clothe the green, "When pirates fnatch'd me from my native land, &C.

He relates how he arrived at Trinacria, efcaped from the pirates, and how that lawlefs crew perifhed by the inhuman hands of a Cyclops. In this defert ifland he remained for ten years. His folitary life, his terror of the Cydtps, his efcaje from the domain and from the threats of that monfter, who discovered him in hi>> flight, form a wild and romanric tale, which affords a fatis- faftinn of a pleafing though melancholy nature. The Argive chiefs, won by the eloquence of Nejlor, agree to the truce. Diomed alone remonftrates, and retires fuilenly to his tent. The poet, in imi tation of Homer, defcribes the funeral obfequies and various games in honour of the dead. The games he has chofen are different from thofe which arc to be found among the ancients, and the incidents are new and curious. He meditates a defign to attack the unarmed Fhebans, conSdhg in the truce, and bufied in burying their dead. His friend, and the guardian of his youth, Deipbobusj diffuades him from fuch enormous injuftice, and expoftulates on this fubj'?<5t, with a free dom which provokes the fiery temper of D'tomtd to lift his hand againft his friend, and to put him to death. This incident, which is apt to furprife us, feems to have been copied by the poet from that circumftance in the life of Alexander, where the heroic conqueror, moved by a fudden paflion, fbbs Clytus, his ancient friend, by whom hi$ life had been formerly faved in battle. The repentance of Diomed is equal to that of Alexander. No fooncr had he iliuck the fatal blow than his eyes are opened ; he is fenfible of his guilt and fhame ; he rcfufes all coniblation ; abftains even from food, and fhuts himfelf up alone in his tent. Hi* followers, ftruck with horror at the violence of his paffion, keep at a diftance from him. A tumult enfues, which is quelled by the eloquence of

Ulyffes, While Diomed^ abandoned by all, lay outftretched m n the duft, refigned to melancholy, re- morfe, and defpair, CaJJandra enters his tent with a potion, which fhc had prepared for him. The virgin endeavours, by an artful tale, to fhun difcover,, and to conceal her Jove. While (he (lands before him ah ne, her timidity and paffion betray her frx; and Diomed immediately perceives her

to be Cfjfaidra. As his repentance for the murder of DeipLobus was now the ruling paffion in his

mind, he is not moved by tendernefs for Cajfjndra ; on the contrary, he cofifiders her as the caufe,

however innocent, of the murder of his friend, and of his own guilt.

Thofe eyes I fee, vrhofe foft enchantment dole

My peace, and ftirr'd a temptft in my lotil;

By their mild li^ht, in innocence airay'd,

To guilty madnefs was my heart betray 'd.

Dci^hobus is dead : his mournful ghoft

.Lamenting, wanders on the Stygian coafr ;

And blames my wrath. Oh ! that the fun which gavo

.Light to thy hirth, had fet upon ti.y grave :

Aiid he had liv'd ! now lifeleis'on the plain,

A corfe he Us, and number d. with the fluin.

Overwhelmed with grief at the treatment fhe received, CaJ/anJra repairs to a rural temple, facred to Ceres, whole prottdtion (he implores, proflrate oo the ground, and bathtd in a flood of tears. At this mflant. Ztlotyfe delcended fiom fenus, but her counfcls were overthrown b) Pallas, dif-. guiled in the (hape of Atxyclea, Cajfandraf, mother. Ccjfandras addrela to Amyclea will not Joie, by a comparison, with the addrefs of Anchifes to ./Eneas in the El j fun fields. She re-, folvcs to return to her father's houfe, aud had begun to j ut her defign in execution, when fhe fell into the hands < f the Thebans. The fierce chiefs decree, that (he (hall fall a Cacrifice to the ghcfts of Leofbron and Andremon. This ftern \ urpofe is- oppoftd by Pbericles, who infilts upcn die faith of treaties. A dilpute ar.les en the (ubjedt ; Come of the princes, infill on the death of C*JJan- dra, others declare themfelves ready to proted her life, at the ri(k .<f their own. And this tiifc rd had raged in civil blood, had not Clytefbon appeafcd the tumult, by propofing to pra&ifc on th

XX THE LIFE OF XVILKIB.

paffions of Dtomcd. by mehns of fo dear a pledge of his love, and to engage him to withdraw his forces from the walls of Titles. Dlomed, his rage fubfiding into grief, inquires at every leader for CaJJandra, and is ftung with compu&ion for hi* barbarous ufage of that lovely, affeftionate, and patient maid. Whilft his mind is tiius ibftened, an herald appear* fr< m the gates of Thebes, relates the fate of Cajfandra, and delivers the king's meffage, threatening to put her to death if Diomed would not agree to a feparate truce with Thebes. This propofal raifes in the mind of D'tomed oppofite contending paflions. Agreeably to the furious character of that chief, the poet fuj pofes that his predominant paffi >si for revenge is firft excited. He rages and vows vengeance, if the Thebans fhould dare to violate the captive. An embroidered fcarf, a prefert from CaJJandra, brings her full into the view of Diomcd, with all her charms. Hi* rage is fufpended, and he refigns his mind to love, to grief, and tender fear. He propofes a truce of twenty days, which the Fhebans accept. In the mean time, Dienices returns, who had been fent to the wildernefs of CEta to recal Hercules for the protection of his native city. He relates the death of Hercules, and the excruciating pains of the envenomed robe, which had been fent him by the hands of the jealous Dejanira. He relates alfo the fate of Clean, fon of the king of Thebes, flain by Philoftetet for an attempt to fteal away the arms of his friend Hercules, now enrolled among the gods This epifode is an attempt towards heroic tragedy, in the manner f Sophocles, and breathes all the hor rors, and vehemence and atrocity of that great poet. If the fublimity of his imagination, and the energy of his ftyle appear any where confpicuous, it is in this epifode, which we fhall not fcruple to compare with any poetry in the Euglifh language. Nothing can be more pathetic than the cora- plaints of Hercules, when the poifon of the envenomed robe begins firft to prey upon him,

O cool my boiling blood, ye winds that blow From mountains loaned with eternal Jnow, And crack the icy cliffs : in vain ! in vain ! Your rigour cannot quench my raging pain ! For round this heart the furies wave their brands, And wring my entrails with their burning hand*.

The virtue of Hercules, fuftaining him under the weight of infernal pain, isdefcribed in a manar not unworthy of the fupreme grandeur < f the ft bject ; and is a fpeclacle, if we may be allowed, with Wilkie, to adopt the fentiments and the ftyle c>f the ancients, we would fay even the immortal godi would regard with comp acency and approbation.

The Theban king, enraged by the death of his fons, even to madnefs, defpair, and hatred of the gods, inftigates his martial powers to attack the Axgi-ves, iecure in the truce, and employed in b*. rying the dead. The Argiies. encouraged fcy Pallas, in the form of Mentor, rally their forces and refift the Thebans with travery, but without fuccefs. The. rgive hands give way, and would have peri (bed by the hands of an enraged victorious enemy, had not f atlas diipatched Ulyjfes to fo- licit the aid of Darned. The fpeech of Uk/ss, in which the character of the fpeaker is well fup- ported, had its full influence - n the mind of a generous warrior, ambitious of glory, and quickly fenfible to the ftings of reproach. He confcffes his p^ilion for the captive Cajfandra ; whom he de- fcribes with all the exaggeration? of love. Ul^/tt, having now learned the cauie of Diomed's inacti vity, addreffcs himfelf to him with fuccefs He fhows, that no fai'h was to be expfded from the ptrfidiou- Theban*, and that the fafety of Cajftndra might be obtained by force, but was not to be hoped for from a regard to juftice. M"ved by this reafoning, Diomed takes the field. The Tbebans are forced to retreat, and the ruthlefs Creon difpatches an affaffin to murder Caandra. Here opens a fctne truly afFeding. The queen of Thebes and her maids fat lamenting with the fair captive, talking to her in the language .f complacency and tendernefs, aiTuring her that her innocence, her fex, would protect her, and that nine fhort days would reftore her freedom : Bat Ca/undra, prepared to meet her fate, by a dream, arms her f elf with magnanimous refolution, and 9 when the murderer approached, with the fword bared ior CXWJUtionj in he micift of fad attendants; (he aiuie sppuarsd erect $nd

""<> THE LIFE OF WILKIE. *tf

For the blow prepar*d,

With b th her hands her (hininy neck (he bar'd, And round her head a purp'e garment roll'd, With leaves of filver mark'd, and flowing gold. Ra^'d for the ftroke, the glittering faulchron hung, And Iwift defcenrling, hore the head along. A tide of gore, diffus'd in purple ftreams, Dafhes the wall, and o'er the pavt-menr Uvims. Prone to the ground, the hfadlefs trunk reclines, And life, in long convulfive throbs, rcfigns.

In the mean time, Dumed advifes the Argive chiefs to take Thebes by affault. Idamtneus oppofcs fo rafh a defign ; ard in the midft of this difputr, Creoa difplays on the point of a fpear. the head of CaJJandra. Diomed leads on his powers to the affdU'.t of "Thebes, while the other sirgive bands, in favour of his attempt, diftradt the foe by n ock approaches. The city is taken. The queen, made captive, implores the mercy of Diomed. Uiyjfcs advifes him to offer her up a vi&irn to the manes of Ca/anJra. The generous hero rejects the barbarous counfcli and the poem concludes with the dfath of Green.

It is a man i fell advantage in the Epigon!ad y that the fcenes it defcribes lie witKin a very narrow fpace of time ; that events follow events in rapid fucctffion ; and that, on the whole, it maintains the clofeft and moft per fed unity of time, place, and adtion. The moral is no other than what is the moral of many tragedies, the fatal effcds of love. But the poet has found means artfully to extend the moral to paltion in general : For Diomed iu a kind of peroration to the whcle of what had puffed, deplores the predominancy of paffion, ever deaf to reafon and cool reflection.

My guardian murder 'd, and the holt betray'd.
 * While I, unhappy, by its dictates fway'd,

The fable is evidently ingenioufly artificial; but the execution is better than the defign, the poe try fupeiior to the table, and the colouring of the particular parts more excellent than the general plan of the whole. Of the four great epic poems which have been the admiration of mankind, the " Iliad," " JEr>c d," ** Jerufalem," and * Paradife i.oft." the " Jerufalem" alone would make a to lerable nc.vtl, if reduced to prole, and related without that fplendour of verfification and imagery by which it is fupporud ; yet, in the opinion of many great judges, the " Jerufalem" is the leaft per ft A of thcfe productions, chiefly becaufe it has leaft nature and (implicit y in the fcntiments, and is m ft liable to the orjt&ion of affectation and conceit. The ftory of a poem, whatever may be imagined, is the leal> iffmtial part of it, the force of the verfificatu-n, the vivacity of the images, the juftncfs of the defcriptions. the natural play of the paffions,are the chief circumftances which di- ilingU'fh the j-reat poet from the profaic novelift ; and we will venture to affirm, that all thefe ad vantages, efpecial'y the three former are to be found in an eminent degree in the E^igoniad. WiU kie, infpircd with the true genius of Greece, and fmir with the moft p-ofonnd veneration for Ho mer, difdains all frivolous ornaments ; and,rel)irg entirely on his fublime imagination and his ner vous and harmonious exprefilon, has ventured to prefent to his reader the naked beauties of nature, and challenges, for his partizans, all the admirers of genuine antiquity.

There is one circumftance in which Wilkie has carried his boldncfs of copying antiquity beyond the practice of many, even judicious moderns. 1-e has drawn his perfonages, not only with all the fimplicity of the Grecian heroes, but alfo with fome degree of their roughnefs, and evea of their fe rocity. This is a circumftance which a mere modern is apt to find fault with in Homer, and which, perhaps, he will not eafily excufe in his imitator. It is certain that the ideas of manners are much changed fince the age of Homer, and though the " Iliad" was ilways, among the ancients, conceiv ed to be a panegyric on the Greeks, yet the reader is now almoft always on the fide of the Trojans, and is much more imerefted for the hurrane and foft manners of Pi iam, He<ftor, Andromache, Sarpe- Glaucus.nay, even of Faris and Helen, than for the ievere and cruel bravery of AchiHe*,

fcii THE LIFE OF WILKIE.

Agamemnon, and the other Grecian heroes. Senfible of this inconvenience, Fenelen, in his " Tc- lemaque," has foftened extremely the harfh manners of the heroic ages, and has contented himfelf with retaining that amiable fimplicity by which thefe ages were diftinguiflied. If the reader be difplealed that the Britifh poet has not followed the example of the French writer, he muft at leaft allow, that he has drawn a more exail and faithful copy of antiquity, and has made fewer facrifices of truth to ornament.

The characters of the Epigoniad are moftly the fame with thnfe of the " Iliad." Diome.I, Agamemnon, JMenelaus, Cf/yjfes, Nefior, Idomeneus^ Merlon^ and even Therjite*, all appear in different parts of the poem, and, in general, act parts fuitable to the characters drawn of them by Homer. The epifodes are art- fully inferted, interefting and natural The language is fimple and artlefs in narration ; but in de- fcription, often bf Id, figurative and fublime. The imago are taken from rural life, or the great and beautiful objects of nature. There is a littlenefs in the moft ingenious arts. Nature only cor- refponds to the elevated tone of the epic poet. The fimiles are perhaps too frequent. This fre quency Wilkie would dcubtlefs have dtfended by the example of Homer; but Homer himfelf feems to offend in this particular. The numbers are elaborately correct, delicately polifhed, and exquifitely harmonious. Pope feeras to have been his model for verfifitation, and he has borrow ed many lines and expreffions from him. But he is not a fervile imitator. He has judicioufly diverfified the uniformity of Pope, by adopting the variety of paufe, accent, cadence, and di&ion, fo eminently confpicuous in Drydtn, and fo abfolutely efilntial to the harmony of true poetry.

An ingenious foreigner, whofe rt:i< d feems far fuptrior to bigotry and national prejudice, in his

" Eflay on the Revolutions of Literature," has mentioned the Eplgonidd in terms of high refpe" fays Profeffor Denina, " would have been a moft admirable poem, had it been written aeco years ago But as Homer is now fo well known in England, we cannot be furprifed that Wilkie has not a greater number of readers. We Italians, at prefent, neglect the . Avarcblde di Lingi Almannl, which, like the Epigoniad, is too clofe an imitation of the " Iliad."

There are others, no doubt, befides Pn fcffur Denina, who, while they will not hefitate to allow no fmall fhare of merit to this poet, will yet be ready to cor-fider his poem as too dole an imitation of Homer, and think that he has been unfortunate in the choice of his fubjecSt.

Wilkie, aware of thefe objections, has endeavoured to obviate them in his Preface^ which has been univerfally admired, and than which there has not appeared a piece of jufter or more manly criticifm fmce the times of Ariftotle and Horace. He juftifies himfelf, at great length, in having formed his poem vpon hiftorical circumftances already known, anel introduced characters with which the reader is before acquainted, and alfo fhows the nectfiity he was under of taking many of the hiftorical circumftances from the ancient poets ; for tradition, the proper foundation of epic poetry, is only to be found in their writings, and, therefore, muft be ufed like a common flock, and not confidered as the property of individuals.

" Tradition," fays the fteface, " is the heft ground on which a fable can be built, not only be- caufe it gives the appearance of reality to things that are merely fiitious, but likewife becaufe it
 * fupplies a poet with the moft proper materials for his invention, to work upon."

We might have expected, from this remark, that he had not only taken tradition as the ground of his fable, but employed it alfo to guide him through the narration : But we find that he has not only forfook, but contradi&ed it on ieveral cccafions.

Euftathius, in his Commentary upon the fourth book of the " Iliad," gives us a lift of the nine warriors who were called the pigoni, moft of whom Wilkie never mentions in the Epigoniad, bat inftead of them, introduces, not the defendants of thofc unfortunate heroes who fell before Thebes in a former expedition, but feveral of their contemporaries; as Thefeus and Neflor, who had no motives of revenge tp prpmpt th.eir undertaking. Tktfeusi in particular, was no$ there, for v

THE LIFE OF WILKIE, xxiii

find in the " Suppliants" of Euripides, that T&efeus went upon a former expedition to ^bebes^ to procure funeral honours for the feven fathers of the Epigoni, who lay unburied before the walls of that city; and, at the end of the fame tragedy, we are told, that the capture of the city was referved for the Epigonl alone. Wilkie alfo gives Tbefeus the conducl of the war, in contradiction to Diodorus biculus, who affirms, that by che advice of the oracle of Apollo, Alcmaeon was confti- tuted generaliflimo : He likewife makes Creon king of Thebes, but Creon had been dead four years before; and Euilathius pofitively fays, that Laodamas was, at chat time, their king. Contrary to all order of time, Agamemnon and Menelaus are introduced as principal characters, an anachronifin which he endeavours to excufe, ,by alleging that it was a fadr. of little confequencc, and that he did not therefore choofe to deprive himfelf of two illuftrious names. In (lead of St&endus, who is faid to have accompanied Diomedm this expedition, he has fubftituted 4f Ulyjfcs, a firlt-rate hero, in the place of a fecond-rate one, and a name which every body is acquainted with, in the place of one little known."

But though Wilkie's difagreement with Homer in point of facl, is not more remarkable than his difregard of the traditions of the ancients, we muft acknowledge, that, in giving up the con- dud of his poem to an invention fruitful of incidents, he has given u a regular heroic ftory, well connected in its parts, adorned with characters which ftrongly attach the reader, and make him take part in the dangers they encounter, embclliftied by mythological fictions, whicli gra:ify and fill the imagination, and abounding in interefting fituations, which awaken the feelings of hu manity. He is fome times awful and auguft ; often tender and pathetic ; and intermingles valiant achievements with the gentle and pleafing fcenes of love, friendfliip, and affedlion.

There is nothing more wonderful, in rhis admirable poem, than the intimate acquaintance it dif- plays, not only with human nature, but with the turn and manner of thinking of the ancients, their hiftory, opinions, manners, and cuftoms. There are few books that contain more ancient learning than the Epigonlad. To the reader, acquainted with remote antiquity, it yields high entertainment; and we are Co far from think'ng, thac an acquaintance with Homer hinders men from reading this poem, that we are of opinion it is chiefly by fuch as are converfant in the writings of that poet, that the Epigeniad i, or will be read. And as the manners therein defcribed are not founded on any circumftances that are temporary and fugacious, but arife from the original frame and conftitution of human nature, and are confequently the fame in all nations and periods of the world ; it is pro bable, if the Englifh language fhall not undergo very material and fudden changes, that the epic poem of Wilkie will be read and admired, when others, that are in greater vogue in the prefcnt day, fhall be overlooked and forgotten.

In the Epiooniad, Wilkie has, in general, followed fuccefsfully the footfteps of Homer. In the Dream annexed to that poem, he has chofen Spenfer for his model, and ventured to engage in a rivalfhip with the great father of allegorical poetry. In this fmall poem, in which the manner of Spenfer is finely imitated, the poet fuppofes himfelf to be introduced to Homer, who cerfures his poem in fome particulars, and excufes it in others'. It is, indeed, a fpecie* of apology for the Ep'.goniad, written in a very lively and elegant manner. It may be compared to a well- poliflied gem of the purell water, and cut into the mod beautiful form. He apologifes for fo clofely imi tating, and even b'-rrowirg from Homer. He alleges, that Plato and Virgil did fo before him. His pmife f Hfad and 'Theocritus is fuch as might be expected from an agriculturift and a poet. Thofe who would judge of Wilkie's talents for poetry, without perufing his larger work, may fatisfy their turiofity by running over this (hnrt poem They will fee the fame force of imagination and har mony of numbers, \vhich diftinguifh his longer performance, and may thence, with fmall applica tion, receive a favourable impreffion < f his genius.

His Fable$ difcover an ingenious and acute turn of mind, and a thorough acquaintance with the nature and ways of men ; but they are not recommended by any great degree of poignancy or poe tical ipiric. Simplicity is, indeed, the greateft excellence of fable ; But, in, the Fablet of Wilkie,

axtv THE LIFE OF W1LKIE.

there is fuch an excefs of Cmplicity, that they do not fufficiently command attention. They do not fufficiently roufe and exercife the mind ; and this defedl is the more inexcufable, that to roufe at tention is the very end of fable : For the leffons that' fable teaches are fufficiently obvious, and what fhe pretends to is only to incline men, by a fpecies of furprife, to attend to them. If Wilkie cannot boaft the eafe of Gay, the elegance of Moore, or the humour and poignancy of Smart, yet he is, by no means, a contemptible fabulift. His Fables have the merit of at) artlefs and eafy verification, of juft observation, and even, occafionally, of deep reafoning, and abnund in ftrokes of a pathetic duplicity. The fable of the Rake end the Hermit poffeffes the two Jail mentioned qualities in an eminent degree.

TH WORKS Oft WILKIE.

PREFACE.

A s there is no clafs of writers more freely cen- lured than poets, and that by judges of all forts, competent and incompetent : I fhall attempt to anfwer fome objections that may be made to tr>. following- performance, by perfons not Efficiently acquainted with epic poetry, and the rules upon which it ought to be formed.

The beauties of the piece, if it has any, fhall be left to be difcovered by the reader for himfelf. 'i'his is his undoubted privilege ; and I have no in- . tention to break in upon it: neither would it be of any advantage to do fo ; for poetical beauties, if they are real, will make themfelves obftrved, and have their full effect without a comment.

Some will object to the choice of the fubject that it is taken from the hiftory of an age and na tion, the particular manners of which are not now \vell known, and therefore incapable of being juftly reprefented by any modern author. This objection will appear to be of little confequence, when we confider that the fact upon which it proceeds is fo far from being ftrictly true, that there are none who have any tolerable fhare of claffical learning, that are not better acquainted with, the manners and cuftoms of the heroic ages, than with thole. of their own country, at the diftance of a few cen turies. Neither is this knowledge of ancient man- rers confined to the learned ; the vulgar them- felves, from the books of Mofes, and other ac counts of the firft periods of the Jewifh (lute, are fufficientlyinftnicted in the cuftonis of the earlitft times, to be able to relifh any work where thcfe are juftly reprefented. With what favour, for in- ibnce, has Mr. Pope's tranflation of the Iliad been received by perfons of all conditions ? and how much is it commonly preferred to the Faery Queen, a poem formed upon manners of a much >i7iore modern caffc. But fuppofing the fiict upon ' which the objection proceeds, to be true, and that the cuftoms, ar.<Ufcnanners peculiar to the. times irom which the fuhject of the poem is taken, are .not now well undcrftood, I do not apprehend, . that, even with this conf eflion, the objection a- f- mounts to any thing confiderable; for manners .Ure to be diflinguifhe* into two kinds, uaiverfal .and particular. Univerfal manners, are thofe ^tion of the human nature, and which confequcnt- ly are the fame in all nations and periods of the ivorld. Particular manners, on th,e other hand.
 * . \vhich arife from the original form and coitftitu-

confift of fuch cuftoms and modes of behaviour, as proceed from the influence of partial caufes. and that ftift and vary as ihofe caufes ^o upon jJliich they depend. To make nr/fclf underftoodHay an example ; it i? a^r-.vable to common or univerfai manners, to be angry and relent an injury ; but particular manners, in ordinary cafes, determine the methods of revenge. For great offences, an Italian poifons his enemy; a Spaniard ftabs him. - over the fhoulder ; and a Frenchman leeks fatif- faction in duel. From this example, it will be eafy to fee that particular manners ought to ap pear but very little, either in epic poetry, ttagc- dy, or any other of the higher kinds of poetical compofition ; for they are vulgar, and depend up on cuftom ; but great paflions and high charac ters reject ordinary forms; and therefore muft, upon every occafion, break through all the com mon modes both of fpeech and behaviour. Though ancient manners, therefore, were not fo pfecifely known as they are, I fliould imagine, that a flory taken from the accounts which we have of thfc heroic ages, might very well ferve for the fubjeA of an epic poem, and have ail the advantg.es ne- ceflary in refpect of that fpecies of compofition.

It may likewife be alleged, that I have done wrong in choofing for mjt fubjcct a piece of hifto ry which has no connection with prefent affairs ; and that, if I had done otherwife my work would have been more interefling and ufeful.

This objection, fcemingly a very material one, admits, notwithflanding, of an eafy anfwer, viz. that fubjects for epic poetry ought always to be taken from p riods too early to fall within the reach of true hiftory. And, if this rule is down- to be effential, which. 1 fhall attempt to do in what follows, it will be found to be irnpoffibk that any fubject proper for that kind of writing fliould have a connection with prefent affairs. The proper bufincfs of epic poetry, is to extend our ideas of human perfection, or, as the critic* exprefs it, to excite admiration, In order to do this in any to lerable decree, characters mufl be magnified, and fcccomme'dated rather to oar notions of heroic greatnefs, than to the real flate of human nzinrc, There appears a certain fittlenefs in all mea when tmry known, which checks admiration, and con fines it to very narrow limits; heroes, themfelves^ though pofiefled of the greateft qualities, are, moft circunjftaaces oT their cbnoitioB, &mach rpv

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

on a level with the ordinary run of mankind, that fuch as have an opportunity of being intimately acquainted with them, do not admire them at the fame rate that others do, who view them only at a diftance. 1 he common conditions of humanity leffen every man ; and there are many little cir- cumftances infeparably connected with our ftate of being, which we cannot eafily reconcile with cur idea of Epaminondas, Plato, Scipio, or Caefar. From all this it plajnly appears, that admiration cliims for its object fomething fuperior to mere humanity ; and therefore fuch poems as have it for their end to excite admiration, ought to cele brate thofe perfons only that never have been treated of by regular hiftcrians.- For hiftory gives to all things their juft and natural, dimenfions ; and, if it fhould interfere with poetical fiction, would effectually confute thole beautiful legends which are invented to .raife our ideas of character and action, above the ftandard at which experi ence has fixed them.

Let it be obferved, as a further confirmation of the maxim which I am eftablifliing., that there is in our minds a principle which leads us to admire palt times, efpecially thofe which are moft remote from our own. 1 his prejudice is ftrong in us ; and, without being directed or afliitecl by art, forms in the mere vulgar of all coitnlries, the moft extravagant notions of the ftature, ftrength, and other heroic qualities of their remote anceftors. This prejudice, fo favourable to poetical fiction, true hiuory effectually deftroys : and therefore poets, that they may have the advantage of it, ought to celebrate thofe perfons and events only that are of fo great antiquity, as not to be remem bered with any degree of certainty and exactnefs.

But, inttead of a thoufand arguments to this purpole, let us only conlider the machinery which jmift be employed in an epic poem : how heaven and hell mult both be put in motion, and brought into the action ; how events altogether out of the common road of human affairs, and no ways coun tenanced either by reaion or by experience, muft be offered to mens imaginations, fo as to be ad mitted for true. Let Os confider all this, and it will appear, that there is nothing which poets ought more carefully to avoid, than interfering with fuch regular, and well-vouched accounts of things as would effectually confute their fable, and make the meaneft reader reject it with con tempt. This is a point of prudence which no poet has yet neglected with impunity. Lucan, accord ing to his ufual rafhnefs, has taken, for the fub- ject of an epic poem, one of the beft known events which he could have pitched upon in the whole feries of human affairs ; and, in order to diftin- guilh himfrlt. from a mere hiftorian, is often under "the neceffity of Parting from his fubject, and em- ploying the whole force of a very lively and fruit ful invention in unneceffary defcriptions and trif ling digreflions. This, befides other inconvenien- cies of greater jmportance,*gives fuch an appear ance of labour and {training to his whole perform ance, as takes much from the merit of it, with all who have any notion of eafe, majefty, and fimpli- citj of writing. He, and all other poets who have fallen into the fame error, find always this diiad-

vantage attending it, that the true and fictitious j parts of their work refufe to unite, and Handing as [ it were at a diftance, upon terms of mutual aver- fion, reproach each other with their peculiar de fects. Fiction accufes truth of narrownefs and want of dignity ; and this again reprefents the other as * vain and extravagant. Spenfer, who, in his Faery CKteen, not only treats of matters within the fphere of regular hiftory, but defcribes even the tranfac- tions of his own time, in order to avoid the incon- veniencies which he knew to be almoft infepa- rable from fuch an attempt, covers his flory with a veil of allegory, that few of his readers are able to penetrate. This ftratagem leaves him at full li berty in the exercife of his invention; but he pays, in my opinion, too dear for that privilege, by facrificing to it all the weight and authority which a mixture of received tradition and real geography would have given to his fable. Milton takes the fubjects of both his great poems from true hiilory, yet does not fucceed the worfe upon that account. But it is to be remembered, that his chief actors are not men, but divine and ange lic beings ; and that it is the human nature only which fuffers by a juft reprefentation, and lofes in point of dignity, when truly known. Befides, the hiftorical circumftances upon which he builds are fo few, and of fo extraordinary a nature, that they arc eafily accommodated to poetical fiction ; and, therefore, inftead of limiting him, and fctting bounds to his invention, they ferve only to coun tenance, and give a degree of credibility to what ever he pleafes to feign- Shakfpeare may like- wife be quoted as an exception to the general rule, who takes the fubjects of many of his pieces from periods of the Englifh hiftory not very remote, and, notwithftanding, fucceeds remarkably in exciting the heroic paflion. That Shakipeare makes us ad mire his heroes, is undeniable; and no man of com mon fenfe will ever pretend to affert, that real characters of great men, touched up and heighten- ed-by a poetical fancy, will not very naturally ex cite admiration. But there are different degrees of this paflion, as well as of all others ; and it js evident that the degree of it which Shakfpeare in tends to raife, is not equal tp that which Homer aims at, and the other writers of the epic tribe. We admire no character in Shakfpeare's works more than that of Henry V., but the idea which. Homer gives us of Achilles, is ftill more noble and auguft. The tragedian mixes fo much of the or dinary man in the character of his hero, that we become too familiar with him to admire him in a high degree : for in thofe very pieces in which he is reprefented as performing his moft remarkable exploits, he is often found at his leifure hours amufing himfelf with a knot ol humourifts, pick pockets, and buffoons. I do not pretend to cen- fure Shakfpeare for this conduct ; becaufe it is not the bufinefs of a tragedian to make us admire, but to intereft our other affections : and, to make his heroes very much objects of admiration, would poffibly be one of the greateft errors that an au thor of that kind could fall into: for the princi ple of cempaffion, to which tragedy is peculiarly addreffed, is incompatable with high admiration; and a man, in order either to be loved or pitied,

PREFACE.

mutt appear with evident fymptoms of the weak- neffes common to the reft of the human kind. It is our own image in difcrefs which afflicts us ; and we never pity one under calamities, who is not weak enough to be moved by them. Homer upon this account, never attempts to excite pity, but from fuch private and domeitic diltreffl's as (how his heroes in the light of ordinary men. Sopho cles like wife, from a jufl apprehenfion that the he roic paflion interferes with the proper fpirit of tragedy, 1 ffcns on purpofe the great characters which he introduces, and itripsthem of more than half their dignity. Though therefore Shakfpearc makes us admire his heroes as much as a tragedian ought to do, and even more in fome inflances than the rules of art would juitify ; yet as the degree of admiration which he excites is lefs by far than that which epic poetry aims at, it may well be raifed from fubjects that are itrictiy hilto- rical, though the higher degrees of that paifion cannot. Were my judgmeut of Sufficient authori ty in matters of criticifm, I would have it under- ftood as a rule, that the fubjects of epic poetry fhould be taken from tradition only : that trage dy fhould keep within the limits of true hiftory ; and that comedy, without meddling at all with hittorrcal fa<fls, fhould expofe vice and folly in re cent inflances, and from living examples. That part of the rule which regards epic poetry, is fuf- frciently ju-ftijled from what has been already faid; and concerning tragedy, I have likev/ifcobfcrvcd, that it ought not to exalt its greatefl characters above the Standard of real life. From this it will follow that it may be itrictiy historical without lofing any real advantage, and attain its full per fection without the affiltance cf fable. I believe it will be eafily allowed, that where truth and fic tion are equally fuhfervient to the purposes of poe try, the firit ought always to be preferred ; for true hiitory carries a weight and authority with it, which Seldom attend Stories that arc merely fictitious, and has many othtr advantages for in- terefling our affections above the legends of re mote antiquity. But as tragedy fhould never go fo far back as the fabutous ages, neither fliould it, in my opinion, approach too near to prcfent times; for though it does not aim ut railing and gratify ing the paflion cf admiration, yet it has a degree of dignity to maintain, which it would endanger by treating of event! too recent, and characters too particularly remembered. Comedy, on the other hand, and indeed tjvery fpecies of fatire whatfoever, ought to attack living characters only, and the vices and folly of prefent times. That imperfection which appears in every thing when viewed near, a circumitance fo unfavour able to the genius of epic poetry and tragedy falls in precisely with that of comedy, a kind of which has no dignity to fupport, points always at \vhat is ridiculous, and marks its objects with cha racters of littlcnefs and contempt. We naturally admire paft times, and reverence the dead; and consequently are not fo much difpofed to laugh at fools who have already finished their parts, and retired, as at fools who are yet upon the flagc. The ancient comedy cf the Greeks, which pio- . Deeded upon this maxim, was certainly, upcn that

account, the moft perfect fpecies of fatire that ever was invented. Homer, as he exceeds all other poets in merit, has iikewifj the advantage of them* in point of good fortune ; the condition of the age in which he wrote gave him an opportunity of ce lebrating in his poems, events, which though hey were in his days of no great antiquity, and confe- qucntly the more interesting, yet had fallen, through the want of authentic records, -into fo happy a degree of obfcuriry, that he was at full liberty to feign concerning them what he pleafed, without any danger of confutation. This is an advantage which Succeeding poets could not boaft of; and therefore have found themfelves under a neceffity, either of taking their fubjects from re mote antiquity, as 1 hive done, or (which in, my opinion is worfe) of attempting to mix fable with hiftory, which never can be done with fuccefs.

The mythology in the follow ing poem will pro bably give offence to fome readers, who will think it indecent for a Chrillian to write in fuch a man ner as to fuppofe the truth of a heathen religion. They will be of opinion, that it would have been better, either to have introduced no religious fyf- tem at all, or to have chofai fucli afubject a* would have admitted of the true fyltem. I fli'aJl endea vour to anfwer this objection, by cllablifhiag two maxims direct ly'oppofrte to what is prcpofed in the preceding alternative, and fhow not only that divine beings are ncceffary characters in an epic poem, but likewise that it is highly improper to, introduce the true God into a wo;k of tlut nature. If thefe two points are fully made out, the. force of the objection vvili be taken away. As to the firit of them, let us again confider the end which epic poetry propofes to itfelf : it aims ut exciting admiration, by letting before us imago* of whatever is great and noble in the human cha racter : it is neccffrry for this purpofe th.it a poet Ihould give his hero.-s, not only ail thof^ intiiufic qualities which make m^n admired, but that he' mould magnify them like wife by a fkilful management of outward circumftances. We do not form our notions either of perfons or things from their real qualities only ; circumitaiices of a foreign nature, and nicRly acccfiory, have "as great an influence as thefe in determining our approbation und diilikc. This obfcrvation Shows the importance of mythology to epic poetry ; fo? nothing can render a pcrfon of greater cohfc- qucnce in the eye of the world, than an opinion that the gods regard him with a peculiar d. gree of attention, and are much interefted in ail that relates to him. If people are once confidcred as the favourites of heaven, or inflrumenis chofcii for the accomplifhment of iis important purpofes; poets ma/, tell of them wh-t j^reat things they pleafe, without fecoiirvj to exaggerate, or fa/

, ,

any thing thar exceeds the bounds of probability, Homer was certainly of tlus opinion, 1,^ afcribed to his heroes, valour and other great qualities in fo immoderate a dt grce : for, had th: gods never interpofed in any of the eveius which he celebrates ; had his chief actors been novviij conneclc J with them, either in point of favour or confanguinity, and reprefentei', at the fame tim, , uj pcri'u.iiur": the high exploi wliiv.li l.e a,ci-l)oj

xph Aij

4 THE

to them inftead of being applauded as the firft -of I poets, he would have been cenfured as the moft lalfe and moft credulous pf hiftorians. This ar gument in favour of poetical mythology, with an other which might he taken from the advantage it is of in point of ornament, and a third fiom its life in allegory, has determined almoft all the writers who have followed the epic or heroic ftyle, to allow it a place in their compofitions ; fuch of them as have taken their fubjcct from Greek or Roman ftory, have adopted the mythology of Homer ; and the reft, in celebrating more modern heroes, have, inftead of that, made ule, of the true religion, corrupted by an unnatural mixture of northern fuperftition and Grecian fable. From a practice therefore fo universal, we may juftly infer, that poets have looked upon mythology as a thing of great ufe in their compofitions, and al- inoft effentral to the art.

It may be alleged, after all that has been faid, that, to bring gods ijito epic poetry, is inconvenient on many accounts; that it prevents a proper dii- play of character in the human actors, turning them ail into fo many machines, to be moved and guided by the immediate impulfes of deity : that it breaks in tipon the order of natural caufes, and Tenders all art, either in plan or conduct of a work, fupcrfluous and unnecefTary. If what this objection fuppofes were true, and that the mix ing of gods with men in the action of an epic po- t'rn, neceffarily turned the whole into miracle ; if it were an unavoidable confequence of this me- 1,hod, that the human actors ihould be governed in all they do by divine impulfe determining them, without regard to their natural characters, and the probable motives which ought to influence them ; in fhort, if mythology could have no place in a poem, but at the expence of manners, order, connection, and every other thing that can render a work either beautiful or inftructive, it would be an argument againft it of fuch weight, as nothing alleged in its favour would be 'able to counter balance. But the objection is.^jy no means well founded ; for, thougpthere may be an indifcreet application of mythoB;ijjr, productive of all thofe ill effects which have oeen mentioned ; yet it is obvious, both from reafon and experience, that Miythology may be managed in fuch a manner as to be attended with none of them. And this will appear from a very obvious example : the greateft part of mankind, in every age, have believed that gods and fuperior beings govern and direct the course of human affairs. Many individuals, and y an overruling power, and that we fuffer the controul of an irreftible neceffity in all we do; yet this opinion never changes the moral feelings of fuch as entertain it, and their judgment of cha racters and actions ; they love and hate, approve, and difapprove, admire and defpife, in the fame manner as others do, who believe that men are ab- folutely free, and that their final determinations proceed only from themfelves. But when it is rmderftood, that people act without cenfcioufnefs, f>T that the organs of. their bodies are not under the dominion of their own' wills, but actuated by

>F WILKIE.

fome other being without their eanfent : in when mere phyfical neceffity is fubftituted hi place of moral, all idea of character, all fcnie o? approbation and difapprobation immediately ceaf- es. From this fact, the' truth of which nobody will difpute, it is eafy to judge in what .cafes the interpofition of gods in the action of a poem will prevent a proper difplay of the human characters; and when not. Volition, as appears by the ex ample now given, is that -upon which our moral ideas are founded : fo long then as volition is ex erted, there is a character, and, when that ceafcs, the character is loft. If therefore the deities in a poem are employed in animating and deterring the heroes, only by fuggefting fuch motives as are proper to influence their wills ; fuch interpofition by no means interferes with the difplay of charac ter, but rather favours it ; for the quality of every mind may be known from the motives by which it is determined; and Minerva's prevailing with Pindarus to be guilty of a piece of treachery, by fuggefting that Paris would reward him for it, discovered the venality of his temper 33 much as if he had done the fame action from a like motive" occuring to himfelf.

Poets often make the gods infufe an uncommon degree of vigour into their heroes, for anfwering fome great occafion, and add to the grace and dignity of their figure. Sometimes they make a fecond rate heroe the firft; in a particular action, and, with their affiftance, he diftinguifhes himfelf above fuch as are at other times more remarkable lor valour and fuccefs : all this is fo agreeable to what happens naturally, and from mere me chanical caufes, that we forget the gods, and interpret what happens as if they had not incer- pofed at all. For every body knows, that when people are roufed to any remarkable exertion of force, they become ftronger than they are at other times; and that, when in this manner .the fpirits rife to an uncommon height, the whole body ac quires new graces. Valour is not a fixed and permanent quality, nor is it found in any one al ways in the fame degree. Plutarch obferves that of ail the virtues it exerts itfelf moft irregularly, and rifes by fits like a divine infpiratioli. The fenfe which every man }>.as of thefe things, makes him look upon the interpofition of g^ods in fuch cafes as a mythological way of txprefiing what is^ merely natural, and allow fuch ag perform the great actions in a poem to poffefs the whole merit of them. It never leffens our opinkJn of Hector's valour, for inftance, that Apoilo often affifts him ; nor do we think tJlyffes lei's prudent, becaufe he is guided by the influence of Minerva. We have .as clear impreflions of thofe, and the other Hom eric characters as we have of any characters what- foever, and difcern their limits and diftinguifhing; niarks ad clearly as if they had acted altogether of themfelves. That fuperior beings fhould be employed in governing the events of things, and interpofing by thunder, earthquakes, inundations, peftilences, and the like, can never be thought unnatural in poetry, by any one who believes that Providence actually manages the affairs of; the vVtorld by fuch means. It belongs to men to defigl and a<Sl, but to Heaven alone to d^termina* 6

P R E F

fcvents. Though a poet, therefore fliould repre- icnt an army weaker and worfe conducted, pre vailing, in confequence of that kind of interpofition which has been mentioned, over another, evi dently better and {Wronger, there \vould be no thing unnatural in fuch an account, or contrary to what is often experienced in real affairs.

After all that has been faid, it muft be owned, that if gods are brought in upon flight occaiioris, and for trifling purposes; if they are put upon working miracles in order to cover blunders, either in the plan or execution of a poem, and employ ed in cutting fuch knots as the author himfelf has not the, (kill or patience to untie; it mult be own ed, I fay, that this is a very wrong application of' mythology, and attended with all the difadvah- tages which the objection mentions. It is a ftra- tagem, which, if often practifed, would teach the reader at laft to difregard all appearances, and, when the molt important p' riods of affairs were approaching, to remain quite fecure and unin- terefted-, trufting that a god would always be at hand, in time of need, to manage every thing as the poet would have it, and put all to rights by the fhorteft and moft effectual methods. I have confidered this objection at greater length, becaufe at firft view it appears very plaufihle ; and lhall proceed to what remains, after I have taken no tice of another, which has likewife fome appear ance of force. It will be thought inconvenient, as it is the defign of epic poetry to raife and dig nify human characters, that gods fhould appear with men in the fame fcencs of action. It will be alleged, that in this cafe the divine perfons will neceffarily overftiadow the human, leflen them by a comparifon, and consequently produce an effect directly oppofite to what is intended, This abjection, however plaufible, does not feem to be fupported by experience ; at leaft I never found in any inftance, that the fplendour of divine cha racters in a poem, eclipfed the human. Befidcs, this is what cannot eafily happen ; for, let us fup- pofe two parties of boys engaged in fome trial, cither of force or Ikill, and that .a few men take part in the debate, dividing themfelves between the oppofite fides, and afiifting them againft each other, would the exploits of the full-grown men, however remarkable, leflen thofe of the boys ? by no means ; for things that arc confefledly unequal, never come into competition, and therefore can not be either leflened or magnified by appearing together. Are we lefs difpofed to admire the va lour of Achilles, becaufe it is underflood he was not a match for Jupiter ? Or the fagacity of Ulyf- fes, becaufe his penetration was not equal to that of Minerva ? But there is one circumftance which Tenders it abfolutely impoffible for the gods in epic poetry to eclipfe the men in point of heroifm ; and it is this, that the gods are immortal, and confequently cannot exert that in which heroifm chiefly confifts, viz. the contempt of death. Ho mer, in order to give his deities as much of that quality as poflible, has made them vulnerable and fufceptible of pain ; a freedom which has (hocked fon;j of the critics, who did not attend to the reafon of his doing fo. But Homer was too good 4 judge of propriety, not te be fenfible that no

A C E. $

perfon could appear with advantage in military actions who ventured nothing in point of perfonal fafety ; and that ftature, force, magnificent ar mour, and even the higheil achievements, will never conftitute the heioic character, where pa tience and contempt of danger have no opportu nity of appearing. It i this circumftance which gives the mortals in epic poetry a niHnifeft ad vantage over the immortals; and Mars when ulhercd into the field with all the pomp and mag nificence of Homeric dcfcription, is an object lefs to be admired than Diomed, Ajax, and many o- thers who combat bravely, though confcious of mortality. Homer, who has managed his great characters with the trueft judgment and ftridte(t attention to circumftnnces, takes care to have A- chillcs early informed that he was to perifh at Troy, elfe he might feem too confcious of fafety. from his matchlefs valour and the armour which he wore, to be great in that which is to be admir ed, the contempt of death, when the danger of it is imminent. It muft he arl: lowledged, that in Milton's Paradife Loft, the perfons in the machin ery overflladowtd the human characters, and that the heroes of the poem are'all of them immortals i but then it is to be remembered, that Paradife I. oft is a work altogether irregular ; that the fub- ject of it is not epic, but tragic; and that Adam and Eve are not defigned to be obje6ts of admira tion, but of pity : it is tragic in its plot, and epic in its drefs and machinery : as a tragedy, it does not fall under the prefent qucftion ; and, as an epic poem, it evades it like wife, by a circumitance very uncommon, viz. that in the part of it which is properly epic, there are no human perfons at

3.11.

I have in this manner endeavoured to prove that mythology is necefiary to an epic poem, and that the chief objections to the ufe of it are of little confequence. I proceed to eftablifh the other proportion which I mentioned, and (how, that the true God ought not to be brought into a work of that nature. And if this proportion can be made out, it will eafily appear from it, and the preceding- one taken togclker, that poets are un der a neceflity of having ffcourfe to a falie theo logy, and that they are not to be blamed for do ing what the nature of epic poetry on the one hand, and refpect to the true religion on tho other, render neccffary and unavoidable. For proving the point in queftion, I need only ob- ferve, th.t no perfon can appear with advantage in poetry, vvho is not reprefented according to the form and condition of a man. This art addrefle* itfelf chiefly to the" imagination, a faculty which apprehends nothing in the way of character that is not human, and according to the analogy of that nature, of which we ourfclves are confcious. But it would be equally impious and abfurd to reprefent the Deity in this manner, and to con trive for him a particular character and method of acting, agreeable to the prejudices of weak and ignorant mortals. In the early ages of the church, he thought fit to accommodate himfelf, by fuch a piece of condefcenfion, to the notion* and apprthenfions of his creatures : but it would be indecent in any man to ufe the fame frcedon)

THE WORKS OF

and do that for God, which he emly has a right to do for himfelf. The author of Paradife Loft has offended notorioufly in this refpect ; and, though no encomiums are too great for him as a poet, he is juftly chargeable with impiety, for prefuming to reprefent the Divine Nature, and the myfteries of religion, according to the nar- rownefs of human prejudice: his dialogues be tween the Father and the Son ; his employing a Being of infinite wifdom in difcufling the iubtle- ties of fchool divinity ; the fenfual views which he gives of the happinefs of heaven, admitting into it, as a part, not only real eating and drinking, but another kind of animal pleafure, too, by no means more refined : thefe, and fuch like circum- Jlances, though perfectly poetical and agreeable to the genius of an art which adapts every thing to the human model, are, at the fame time, fo incohfiftenfr with truth, and the exalted ideas which we ought to entertain of divine things, that they rnuft be highly ofFenfive to all fuch as have juft impreflions of religion and would not thoofe to fee a fyflem of doctrine reveajed from heaven, reduced to a flate of conformity with heathen fuperflition. True theology ought Hot to be ufed in an epic poem, for another reafon, ol no lefs weight than that which has been mention ed, viz. That the human churacters which it re- prcfents fhould never be formed upon a perfect moral plan, bat have their piety (for inftance) tinctured with fuperflition, and their general be haviour influenced by affection, paflion, and preju dice. This will be thought a violent paradox, by fuch as do not know that imperfect characters in- terefl us wore than perfect ones, and that we are doubly inftructed, when we fee, in one and the fame example, both w r hat we ought to follow, and what we ought to avoid. Accordingly, Horace, in his epiflle to Lollius, where he beflows the liighefk encomiums upon the Iliad, as a work which delineated vice and virtue better than the writings of the mofl celebrated philofophers, fays cf it, notwithstanding, That it is taken up in de- fcnbing the animofities of foolifh kings and infa tuated nations. To go to the bottom of this mat ter, it will be proper to obferve, that men are ca pable of two forts of character, which may be eitingu-Ched by the names of natural and arti ficial. The ratural char-acter implies all thofe feelings, riamons, defires, and opinions which nun have from nature and common experience, inde pendent of fpeculation and moral refirrt?n>ent. A perfon of this character looks upon cnt\vard pro- fperity as a real good, and confiders^the calamities cf life as real evils; loves his friends, hates his enemies,, admires his fuperiors, is aiTuming with refpect to his inferiors, and ftands upon terms of rivalfhip with his equals; in fhort, it> governed by all thofe paffions Lhd opinions that poffefs the hearts, and determine the actions of ordinary men. The force and magnitude of this character is in proportion to the ftrength of thefe ratural difpo'fitions ; and its virtue comlils in having the generous and beneficent ones- predominant. As to that fort cf character, again, v\ hich I cliftin- R habit cf mind formed by difcipline, uccording
 * ui{hed by the name of artificial : it confifts in

to the cool and difpaiTionate dictates of reafeft,- This character is highly moral, but, in my opi nion, far fefs poetical than the other, by being lefs fit for interefting our affections, which are formed by the wife author of cur nature for emr bracing fuch beings which are of the fume tem per and complexion with ourfelves, and are mark ed with the common infirmities of human nature. Perfons of the high philofophic character, are too firm and unmoved, amidft the calamities they meet with, to excite much fympathy, and are too much fuperior to the fallies of paflion and partial affection, the popular marks of generofity and greatnefs of mind, ever to be much admired by the bulk of mankind. If the moll accomplished poet in the world fhould take a rigid philofopher for the chief character either of an epic poem or a tragedy, it is eafy to conjecture what would be th- fuccefs of fuch an attempt; the work would aflu'me the character of its hero, and be cold, dif- paflionatc, and uninterefting. There is, however, a fpecies of panegyric proper for fuch fort of per fection, and it may be rcprefented to advantage, either in hillory or profc dialogue, but it will ne ver ilrike the bulk of mankind. Plato, in his apology of Socrates, deceives us: as Mr Addifon likewife does in his tragedy of Cato : for both of them attempt to perfuade us, that we are affected with the contemplation of omfiiaken fortitude, while we are only fympathifing with fuffering in nocence. The tendernefs of humanity appearing through the hardnefs of the philofophie character, is that which affects us in both ittftances, and not that unconquered greatnefs of mind, \vhich occa- fions rather wonder and aflonifhment than genuine affection.

From what has been faid, it is eafy to infer, that the great characters, both in epic poetry and tiagcdy, ought not to be formed upon a perfect moral plan ; and therefore heroes themfelves mufl often be rc*prefented as acting from fuch motives, and governed by fuch affections as impartial reafon cannot .approve of: but it would be highly inde cent to make a being, whom religion teaches us to confider as perfect, enter into the views of fuch per fans, and exert himfelf in order to promote their extravagant enterprifes. This would be to bring down the infinite wifdom of God to the le vel of human folly, and to make him altogether fuch an one as ourfelves.

A falfe theology, therefore, ought rather to be employed in poetical compofitions than the true; for, as the fuperior beings which are introduced, maft of neceffity be reprefented as affuming the pafiions and opinions of thofe whom they favour, it is furely much fairer to employ a fet of imagi nary beings for this purpofe, than God himfelf, and the bleffed angels, who ought always to be objects of our reverence.

The fume rcufoning which leads to this con- clufionjwill like\vife make us fenfible, that among falfe religions, thefe ought to be preferred which are leaft connected with the true ; for the fuper- fiitions which priefts and poets have built i.yon the Chriflian faith, dishonour it, and therefore fhoukl, if poflible, be buried in oblivion. The an cient Creek theology icons upon all accounts the

PREFACE,

fitteft. It has no connection with the true fyftem, and therefore may be treated with the greateft freedom, without indecency or ground of of fence : It confifts of a number of beautiful fables, fuited to the tafte of the moft lively and ingeni ous people that ever exifted, and fo much calcu lated to ravifh and tranfport a warm imagination, that many poets in modern times, who proceeded upon a different theology, have, notwithstanding, been fo bewitched with its charms, as 'to admit' it into their works, though it clalhed violently with the fyftem which they had adopted. Mil- ton is remarkable in this refpect; and the more fo, as his poem is altogether of a religious nature, and the fubiect of it taken from holy writ.

Some may poffibly imagine, that the following woik would have had greater merit, if it had of fered to the world a let of characters entirely new, and a ftory nowife connected with any thing that is already known. I am not of this opinion ; but perfuaded, on the contrary, that, to invent a ftory quite new, with a catalogue of names never before heard of, would be an attempt of fuch a nature, as could not be made with tole rable fuccefs ; for every man mult be fenfible, that the wonders which epic poetry relates, will fhock even the ignorant vulgar, and appear altogether ridiculous, if they are not founded upon fomething which has already gained a degree of credit. Our (irft ideas are taken trom expr rience ; and though we may be brought to receive notions, not only very different from thofe which experience fuggefts, but even directly contrary to them, yet this is not to be done fuddenly and at one attempt : fuch, there fore, as would have their fictions favourably re ceived, muft lay it down as a rule, to accommo date what they feign to eftabliflied prejudices, and build upon ftories which are already in fome meafure believed. With this precaution, they may go great lengths without appearing abfurd, but will foon "fliock the meaneft understandings, if they neglect it. Had there been no fabulous accounts concerning the Trojan expedition cur rent in Greece and Afia, at the time when Ho mer wrote, the ftories which he tells, though the moft beautiful that ever were invented, would have appeared to his cotemporaries altogether ri diculous and never been admired, till antiquity had procured them credit, or a tradition been formed afterwards to vouch for them to the world j for, in matters of an extraordinary kind, not only reafon, but even imagination, requires more than a fingle teftimony to ground its alfent upon ; and therefore, though I fliould have invent ed a fet of characters entirely new, and framed a ftory for the fubject of my poem nowife connect ed with any thing that has yet been heard of, and been fo happy in this attempt as to produce what might equal, in point of perfection, any of the moft beautiful fables of antiquity ; it would have wanted, notwithstanding, what is abfolute- Jy neceflary in order to fuccefs, viz. that credit which new invented fictions derive trom their connection with fuch as are already become fami liar to mens imaginations.

Tradition is the belt ground upon which fable &an be built, not only becaufe it gives the i

pearance of reality to Things that are merely fic- with the moft proper materials for his invention to work upon. There are fome fabulous ftories that pleafe more univerfally than others ; and of this kind are the wonders which tradition re-. potts ; for they are accommodated to the affec tions and paflions of the bulk of mankind, in the fame manner as national proverbs are to their un- derftandings. The ftrict accommodation in both inttances proceeds from the fame caufr, viz. that nothing of either fort is the work of one man, or of one age, but of many. Traditions are not perfected by their firft inventors, nor proverbs eftablifhed upon a fingle authority. Proverbs derive their credit from the general confent of mankind j and tradition is gradually corrected and improved in the hands of fuch as tranfmit it to each other through a fuccefllon of ages. In its firft periods, it is a narrow thing, but extends It- ft If afterwards, and, with the advantage of time, and experiments often repeated, adapts itfelf fo piecifely to the affections, paflions, and prejudices, natural to the human fpecies, that it becomes at lait perfectly agreeable to the fentiments of every heart. No one man, therefore, can pretend to invent fables that will pleafe fo univerfally, as thole which are formed by the progrefs of popular tradition. The faculties of any individual rauft be too narrow for that purpofe, and have too much of a peculiar caft to be capable of producing what will be fo ftrictly adapted to the common feel ings and fentiments of all. It is this fort of. per fection which pleafes us i archaeology, or the tra ditional accounts which we have of the origins of nations j for we are often more agreeably enter tained with ftories of that kind, though we know them to be abfolutely falfe, than with the juft- eft reprefentations of real events. Bat as tra dition, while it continues in the hands of the people, mult be rude and difagie^able in refpedt of its form, and have many things low and ab furd in it, neceflVy to be palliated or fuppref- fed, it does not arrive at that perfection of which it is capable, till it comes under the management of the potts, and from them receives its lalt im provement. By means of this progrefs, tales, that in the mouths of their firft inventors, were the moft abfurd that can be imagined, the effects of mere luperftition, ignorance, and national preju dice, rile up at laft to aftonifh the world, and draw the admiration of all age?, in the form of an Iliad or Odyfley. It is not the bufinefs of a poet, then, to make fable, but to form, coirect, and improve tradition : and it is to his following this method, that Homer undoubtedly owes his fuc cefs : .for it is obvious to any one who confidtrs his works with attention, that he only collected the various traditions that were current -in his clays, and reduced them to a fyitem. That infi. nite variety of independent ftories which occur in, his works, is a proof of this thefe are told with fo minute, and often fo unnecetiary a detail of circmnftances, that it is eafy to f-e that he fol lowed accounts already current, and did not in vent what he has recorded. I could as eafiiy be* Uev that Prometheus made a man of clay, and
 * itious, but likewife becaufe it fupplies a poet

A iiij

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

put life into him, of aflcnt to any other of the moft abfurd fictions of antiquity ; 1 could even as loon be perfuaded that all that Homer has written is itrict matter of fact, as believe that any one mortal man was capable of inventing that infinite variety of hiftorical circumftances 'which occur in the works ot that celebrated poet ; for invention is by no means an eafy thing; and to contrive a tale that will pleafe univerfally is certainly one of the moft difficult undertakings that can be ima gined. Poets, therefore, have found themfelves under a neceffiry of trufting to fomething more powerful than their own invention in this impor tant article, viz. the joint endeavours of many, regulated and directed by the cenfure of ages.

What has been faid, is not only lufHcient to juftify me in forming my poem upon hiftoricai circumftances already known, and introducing characters which the reader is before acquainted with; but ftiows the neceffity likewile of taking mai y of the hillorical circumftances from the an cient poets. For tradition, the proper foundation of epic poetry, is now to be found only in their wrrt!'"!; r ; and therefore muft be uied like a com mon flock, and not confidered as the property of individuals.

For the immoderate! length of the two epifodes, viz. thole in the fourth and feventh books, all that I can fay, is, that they are both brought in for very important purpofes, and therefore may be permitted to take up more room than is ordinarily allowed to things of that fort. Befides, the firft of thf m is intended as an experiment in that kind of fiction which diftinguifhes Homer's Odyfley, and the other as an attempt to heroic tragedy, after the manner of Sophocles.

The language is fimple and artlefs. This I take to be an advantage, rather than a defect ; for it gives an air of antiquity to the work, and makes the ftyle more fuitable to the fubject.

My learned readers will be furprifed to find A- gamemnon and Menelaus at the fiege of Thebes, when, according to Homer, they were not there : and, at the fame time, no notice taken of Sthene- lus, the friend and companion of Diomed, whom the fame author mentions as prefent in that expe dition.

With refpect to the firft circumtfance, I did not choofe, fer the fake of a fact of fo little confe- quence, ar,d that too depending only upon poeti cal authority, to deprive myfelf of two illuftnous names very proper for adorning my catalogue of heroes. And as to the fecond ; it will be eafily allowed, that I could not have made Sthenelus ap pear, without afiiguing him that place in Diomed's friendfhip, and confequently in the action of the poem, which Ulyfles now poflefles; and which is the only part in the whole fuited to his peculiar character. I muft have put a fecond-rate hero in the place of a firft-rate one; and a name little known, in the place of one which every body is acquainted with. Befides, I muft have transfer red, to Sthenelus, the valour, firmnefs, and ad- drels of Ulyfles; becaufe the part he was to act would have required thefe, and muft, at the fame time, have funk Ulyfles into the character of Sthe nelus, for want of a proper opportunity of difplay- ing him in his own. Thefe are inconveniencies too great to be incurred for the fake of a fcrupu- lous agreement with Homer in point of fact ; and are therefore, in my opinion, better avoided.

I have explained myfelf upon the foregoing par ticulars, for the fake of the learned part of my rea ders only : and fliall now drop a hint for fuch of them as do not fall under that denomination.

The following poem is called the Epigoniad, becaufe the heroes, whofe actions it celebrates, have got the name of the Epigoni (or Defcend- ants), being the fons of thofe who attempted the conqueft of Thebes in a former expedition.

Thus far I have endeavoured to apologife for the following performance. It may be cenfured, no doubt, upon many accounts befides thofe that have been mentioned : but I am perfuaded, that what has been faid will determine every candid reader, hot to be peremptory in condemning what at firil view he may diflike ; for the fpecimen of criticifm which has been given, will convince him that the real faults of epic poetry are not eafily ascertained, and diftinguifhed from thefe inconve niences that muft be allowed to take place, in or der to prevent greater faults, and produce, upoa, the whole, a higher degree of perfection.

THE EPIGON1AD.

BOOK I.

IE pow'rs of fong! with whofe immortal fire "Your bard enraptur'd fung Pclides' ire, To Greece fo fatal, when in evil hour, He brav'd, in ftern debate, the fov'reign pow'r, By like example, teach me now to Ihow From love, no lefs, what dire difaflers flow. For when the youth of Greece, by Thefus led, Return'd to conquer where their fathers bled, And punifh guilty Thebes, by Heav'n ordain'd For perfidy to fall, and oaths profan'd ; Venus, ftill partial to the Theban arms, Tydeus' fen, feduc'd by female charms ; "Who, from his plighted faith by paflion fway'd, The chiefs, the army, and hfmfelf betray'd.

This theme did once your fav'rite bard employ, Whofe verfe immortaliz'd the fall of Troy : But time s oblivious gulf, whofe circle draws All mortal things by fate's eternal laws, In whofe wide vortex worlds themfelves are toft, And rounding fwift fucceflively are loft, This fong hath fnatch'd. I now refume the {train, Not from proud hope and emulation vain, By this attempt to merit equal praife With worth heroic, born in happier days. Sooner the weed, that with the fpring appears, And in the fummer's heat its bloflbm bears, But, fhriv'ling at the touch of winter hoar, Sinks to its native earth, and is no more ; Might match the lofty oak, which long hath ftood, From age to age, the monarch of the wood. But love excites me, and defire to trace His glorious fteps, though with unequal pace. Before me ftill I fee his awful (hade, With garlands crown'd, of leaves which never fade; He points the path to fame, and bids me fcale" Parnaflus' flipp'ry height, where thousands fail: I follow trembling ; for the cliffs are high, And hov'ring round them watchful harpies fly, To match the poets wreath with envious claws, And hifs contempt for merited applaufe. But if great Campbel, whofe aufpicious fmile Bids genius yet revive to blefs our ifle, Who, from the toils of ftate and public cares, Oft with the mufes to the fhade repairs, My numbers fhall approve, I rife to fame ; For what he praifes, envy dares not blame.

Where high Olympus' hundred heads arife, Divide the clouds, and mingle with the flcies, The gods aflembled met; and view'd, from far, Thebes and the various combats of the war. From all apart the Paphian goddefs fat, And pity'd in her heart her fav'rite ftate, Decreed to perifh, by the Argive bands, Pallas's art, Tydides' mighty hands : 'Penfive flie fat, and ev'ry art explor'd
 * hartn the vi&or, and refhain his fword;

But veil'd her ptirpofe from the piercing ray Of Pallas, ever jealous of her fway : Unfcen the goddefs, from th' Olympian height To fhady Cyprus bent her rapid flight, Down the fteep air, as, from the fetting fkies, At ev'n's approach, a ftreaming meteor flies. Where lofty fhores the tempeft's rage reftrain, And fieeps, in peace diflblv'd, the hoary main ; In love's fam'd ifle a <leep recefs is found, Which woods embrace, and precipices bound, To Venus facred ; there her temple ftands, Where azure billows wafti the golden fands, A hollow cave ; and lift* its rocky head, With native myrtle crown'd, a lofty fhade : Whither refort the Naiads of the flood, AffemM'd with the nymphs from ev'ry wood Her heifers there they tend, and fleecy ftore, Along the windings of the defert fhorc. Thither the goddefs, from th' Olympian height Defcending fwift, precipitates her flight ; Confpicuous, on the yellow fand, fhc ftood, Above the margin of the azure flood. From ev'ry grove and dream the nymphs attend, And to their queen in cheerful homage bend. Some hallcning to the facred grot repair, And deck its rocky walls with garlands fair ; Others produce the gift which Autumn brings, And fparkling nectar quench'd with mountain

fprings.

And now the queen, impatient to explain Her fecret griefs, addrefs'd her lift'ning train :

Ye rural goddefies, immortal fair ! Who all my triumphs, all my forrows (hare ; I come, afflicted, from th' ethereal tow'rs, Where Thebes is doom'd to fall by partial

pow'rs.

Nor can entreaty fave my fav'rite ftate, Avert or change the rigour of her fate ; Though, breathing incenfe, there my altar ftands, With daily gifts fupply'd from virgins hands. Juno now rules the fenate of the fkies, And with her dictates ev'ry pow'r complies ; Her jealous hate the guiltlefs town condemns To wafteful havock, and the rage of flames ; Since, thither tempted by a ftranger's charms, The mighty thunderer forfook her arms. Jove's warlike daughter too promotes her aim, Who, for Tydides, feeks immortal fame ; For him employs a mother's watchful cares, And the firft honours of the war prepares : To fruftrate both, a monument would raife Of lafting triumph, and immortal praife, To draw the fon of Tydeus from the field, To whofe victorious hands the town muft yield j For, by the all-decreeing will of fate, He only can o'crthrow the Theban ftate.

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

A way which promifes fuccefs I'll name : The valiant youth adores a lovely dame, Alcander's daughter, whom the graces join'd With gifts adorn, above the human kind : She with her fire forfook th' Hefperian ftrand, By hoftile arms expell'd their native land : For Echetus who rules, with tyrant force, Where Aufidus directs his downward courfe, And high Garganus th' Apulian plain, Is mark'd by failors, from the diftant main ; Oft from her fire had claim'd the lovely maid, Who, ftill averfe, to grant his fuit delay'd : For, barb'rous in extreme, the tyrant feeds With mangl'd limbs of men his hungry fteeds : Impatient of his love, by hoftile arms And force declar'd, he claim'd luer matchlefs

charms,

Pelignium raz'd the hero's royal fea't, Who fought in foreign climes a fafe retreat; His flight ^Etolia's friendly fhore receives, Her gen'rous lord protects him and relieves ; Three cities to poffefs the chief obtains, With -hills for pafture fit, aad fruitful plains. Caflandra for his bride Tydides claim'd ; For hymeneal rites the hour was nam'd, When call'd to arms againft the Theban tow'rs The chief reluctant led his martial pjow'rs. Hence jealoufy and fear his breaft divide, Fear for the fafety of an abfent bride ; Left, by his paffion rous'd, the tyrant rife, And unoppos'd ufurp the lovely prize. He knows not, that, in martial arms conceal'd, With him file braves the terrors of the field ; True to his fide, noon's fultry toil endures, And the cold damps that chili the midnight hours. If dreams, or figns, could jealoufy impart, And whet the cares that fling the here's heart, Impatient of his pain he'd foon prepare, With all his native bands, to quit the war.

The goddefs thus : a Paphian nymph reply'd, And drew the lift'ning crowd on ev'ry fide, Zelotype, whom fell Aleclo bore, With Cupid mixing on th' infernal fhore. Goddefs ! thefe fhafts fhall compafs what you

aim,

My mother dipt their points in Stygian flame ; Where'er my father's darts their wuy have found, Mine follow deep and poifon all the wound. By thefe we foon with triumph fhall behold Pallas deceiv'd, and Juno's felf controul'd.

They all approve ; and to the rural fane, Around their fov'reign, moves the joyful train ; /The goddefs plac'dr in order each fucceeds, With fong and dance the genial feaft proceeds; While'to the fprightly harp the voice explains The loves of all the gods in wanton ftrains : But when arriv'd the filent hour, which brings The {hades of ev'ning on its dewy wings, Zelotype, impatient to purfue Her journey, haft'ning to her cave, withdrew; Firft to her feet the winged fhoes fhe binds, Which tread the air, and mount the rapid winds ; Aloft they bear her through th' ethereal plain, Above the folid earth and liquid main : Her arrows next (he takes of pointed fteel, For fight too fmall, but terrible to feel ; Rous'd by their fmart, the favage lion roars, And caad \Q combat rufh the tuiky boars,

Of wounds fecure ; for where their venom

lights,

What feels their power all other torment flights. A figur'd zone, myfterioufly defign'd, Around her waift her yellow robe confin'd : There dark fufpicion lurk'd, of fable hue ; There hafty rage his deadly dagger drew ; Pale envy inly pin'd ; and by her fide Stood phrenzy, raging with his chains unty'd; Affronted pride with third of vengeance burn'd. And love's excefs to deepeft hatred turn'd. All thefe the artift's curious hand exprefs'd, The work divine his matchlefs ikill eonfefs'd. The virgin laft, around her fhoulders flung The bow ; and by her fide the quiver hung : Then, fpringing up, her airy courfe fhe bends For Thebes ; and lightly o'er the tents defcends. The fon of Tydeus, 'midft his bands, fhe found In arms complete, repofing on the ground; And, as he fiept, the hero thus addrefs'd, Her form to fancy's waking eye exprefs'd.

Thrice happy youth ! whole glory 'tis to fiiare The Paphian goddefs's peculiar care; But happy only, as you now improve The warning lent, an earneft of her love. Her meffbnger I am : if in your heart The fair Hefperian virgin claims a part ; If, with regret, you'd fee her matchlefs charms Deftin'd to blefs a happier rival's arms ; Your cbafts defencelefs, and unguarded tow'rs Confum'd and ravag'd by the Latian pow'rs ; Withdraw your warriors from the Argive And fave whate'er you value, ere 'tis loft. For Echetus, who rules with tyrant force, Where Aufidus directs his downward courfe; And high Garganus, on th' Aptjlian ftrand, Marks to the mariner the diftant land, Prepares, by fwift invafion, to remove Your virgin bride, and difappoint your love. Before, excited by her matchlefs charms, He claim'd her from her fire by hoftile armsf Pelignium raz'd, the hero's royal feat, When in your land he fought a fafe retreat. Caffandra follow'd with relu&ant mind, To love the tyrant fecretly inclin'd ; Though fierce and barb'rous in extreme, he

feeds,

With mangl'd limbs of men, his hungry fteeds. And now at anchor on the Latian tide, With all their train on board, his galleys ride : Prepar'd, when favour'd by the weftern breeze With courfe direct to crofs the narrow feas. This to your ear the Paphian goddefs fends; The reft upon your timely care depends.

She faid ; and, turning, fix'd upon the bow A venom'd fhaft, the caufe of future woe : Then, with reverted aim. the fubtilc dart Difmifs'd, and fix'd it in the hero's heart. Amaz'd he wak'd ; and, on his arm reclin'd, With fighs thus fpoke the anguifh of his mind :

What dire difafters all my ways befet ! How clofe around me pitch'd the fatal net'! Here if -I ftay, nor quit the Argive hoft, ^lolia's ravag'd, and Caffkndra's loft : For fure the pow'rs immortal ne'er in vain To mortals thus the fecret fates explain, "If I retire, the princes muft upbraid -My plighted, faith infring'd, the hoft betray'd ;

EPIGONIAD, BOOK!.

And, to ftrcceeaing times, the voice of fame, With cowardice and floth, will blot my name. Between thefe fad alternatives I find No cliftant hopes to footh my anxious mind ; Unlefs I could perfuade the Argive pow'rs To quit at once thefe long-contefted tow'rs: Nor want I reafons fpccious in debate To move the boldeft warriors to retreat. Divided thus, the fhame would lighter fall ; Reproach is fcarce reproach which touches all.

Thus pond'ring in his mind the hero lay, Till darknefs fled before the morning ray : Then rofe ; and, grafping in his mighty hand The regal ftaff, the fign of high command, Penfive and fad forfook his lofty tent, And fought the fon of Dares as he went ; Talthybius he fought, nor fought in vain ; He found the hero 'midft his native train ; And charg'd him to convene, from tent to tent, The kings to Eteon's lofty monument.

Obedient to the charge, he took his way, Where Theleus 'midft the. bold Athenians lay, The king of men; in whofe fuperior hand, Consenting princes plac'd the chief command. Adraftus next he call'd, whofe hoary hairs By age were whiten'd and a length of cares ; Who f;rft to Thebes the Argive warriors led : In vain for Polynices' right they bled, By fate decreed to fall, he now infpircs The fons to^conquer, and avenge their fires. Uiyfles heard, who led his martial train, In twenty ftiips, acrofs the founding main : The youth, in Ithaca, Zacynthus, bred, And Cephalenia crownM with lofty fliade. The Spartan monarch, with his brother, heard The herald's call ; and at the call appear'd : Yet 'young in arms, but deftin'd to command All 'Greece, afiembled on the Trojan ftrand,. The Cretan chief appear'd ; and he whofe fway Mefienia and the Pylian realms obey. Oileus next he call'd, whofe martial pow'rs From Befla move and Scarphc's lofty tow'rs. Elpenortoo, who from the Chalcian ftrand And fair Erctria led his martial b'and, Appear'd : and all who merited renown In ten years war before the Trojan town. Achilles only, yet unfit to wield The Pelian jav'lin, and the pond'rous fliieH, In Phthia ftaid ; to Chiron's care refign'd, Whole wife inftruclions form'd his mighty mind. The chiefs were plac'd. Superior to the reft The monarch fat, and thus the peers addrefs'd :

Princes ! let fydeus' valiant fon declare What caufe convenes the fenate of the war. If of himfelf, or from advice he knows Some fecref mifchief plotted by our foes, Which prudence may prevent, or force refift, We come prepar'd to counfel and affi-,1 : The monarch thus. Tydides thus reply'd, And drew attention deep on ev'ry fide.

Princes ! I have not now the holt convened, For fecrets by intelligence obtained ; But openly my judgment to exprefs Of mifchiefs feen, which prudence muft redrefs : By war's devouring rage, our martial pow'rs trow thin and \rafte before thefe hoftile tow'rs;

While Thebes, fecure, our vain attempts with-

ftands,

By daily aid fuftain'd from cliftant lands. Shall we proceed to urge this dire debate, Andprefs, with hoftile arms, the Theban ftate ? Or, by experience taught the wor'ft to fear, Confult the public fafety, and forbear ? Had our great fires, by happier counfels fway'd, As prudence taught, neceflity obey'd ; Renounc'd in time this fatal ftrife, which bring* Alike to nations mifchief, and to kings ; Thofe heroes had not, with their martial train, Diftinguifli'd by their fall a foreign plain. The gods themfelves in vengeance for our crimes. With fuch difafters lafli the guilty times ; Jn judgment juft, they fow'd the feeds of ftrife, To fweep tranfgrefiurs from the feats of life. Let him, who obftinately will, proceed, And wait the vengeance hov'ringo'er his head; Since Thebes grows ftronger and the Argive pow'r* Decreafe, as famine or the fword devours, Co-morrow I withdraw my martial train;

to pefifh, like my fire, in vain, hus as the hero fpoke, the kings divide, \nd mingled murmurs round tlV aflembly glide, Heard like the found which warn the careful

fwain

Of fudden winds or thick defcending rain ; Vhen mountain echoes catch the fallen roat Or' billows burfting on the fandy fliore, Vnd hurl it round in airy circles tofs'd, Pill in the diftatit clouds the voice is loft. The king of men to fudden rage refign'd \t once, the empire of his mighty mind, Vith (harp reproaches haft'ning to reply ; But, more fedate, the Pylian monarch nigh, ') act to rife, the angry chief confin'd : [clin'di \nd, whifp'ring, thus addrefs'd with head dc-. It ill becomes the prince, whofe fov'reign hand S.vays the dread fceptre offopreme command, To be the fir(Vin difcord ; and obey Vs headlong pnflion blindly leads the way. or when the kings in ram debate engage, ' Tis yours to check and moderate their rage ; "Since, of the various ills that can diftrefs Confed'rate councils and prevent fuccefs, Difcord is chief; where'er the fury fways, The parts Ihe fevers, and the whole betrays.

The hero thus. The -king of men remain'd By found advice perfuaded, and reftrain'd. Crete's valiant monarch role ; and to the reft, Thu< fp ;ke the dictates of his gen'rous breaft i

Confed'rate kings, when any leader here The war difiTuades, and wants you to forbear, I might approve ; for, fafe beyond the lea, Creon and Thebes can never injure me. And when the barb'rous tyrant, unwithftood, His hot revenge mail quench in Grecian blood; When Thrace and Macedon, by his command, Shall ravage Argos and the Pylian ftrand; Secure and guarded by ihr ocean's ftream, Crete's hundred towns fhall know it but by fame. Yet would not I, though many fuch were found, For open war, advife a peace unfound, Let Macedon to Thebes her fuccours fend, [fcend. And Thrace, with all her barb'rous tribes, de,.

THE WORKS OF

By foreign aids the more our foes increafe,

The greater glory waits us from fuccefs.

You all remember, on the Ifthmean ftrand

Where neighb'ring feasbefiege the ftrait'ned land,

When Greece enleagu'd a full alterably held,

By public jutlice to the war compell'd ;

That blood of flaughter'd victims drerich'd the

ground,

While oaths divine the willing nations bound, Ne'er to return, till our victorious pow'rs, Had levell'd with the duft the Theban tow'rs- Jove heard, and bid applauding thunders roll, Loud on the right ; they (hook the irarry pale : For Jove himfelf is witnefs of our vows, And him, who violates, his wrath purfues. Our joyful fliouts the earth, the ocean beard ; We claim'd the omen, and the god rever'd ; In confidence of full fuccefs we came, To conquer Thebes, and win immortal fame. But if the gods and fate our fears diftruft, To public juftice and ourfelves unjuft ; Difhonour'd to our native feats we go, And yield a lading triumph to the foe. [ghoft Should now, from hence arriv'd, fome warrior's Greet valiant Tydeus on the Stygian coaft, And tell, when danger of dillrefs is near, ThatDiomed purfues the reft to fear; He'd fhun the fynod of the mighty dead, And hide his anguifli in the deepeft fhade : Nature in all an equal courle maintains ; The lion's whelp fucceeds to awe the plains; Pards gender pards; from tygers tygers fpring ; No doves are hatch'd beneath a vulture's wing : Each parent's image in his offspring lives ; But nought of Tydeus in his ion furvives.

He faid ; and by his (harp reproaches (lung, And wav'ring in fuipenfe the hero hung, In words now prone to vent his kindl'd ire. Or fix'd in fullen filence to retire. As when a current, from the ocean wide, Rolls, through the Cyclades, its angry tide; Now here, now there, in circling eddies tufsM, The certain tenor of its courfe is loft, Each wary pilot for his fafety fears In mute fuipenfe, and trembles as he fteers : Such feem'd the tumult of the hero's breaft, And fuch amazement long reftrain'd the reft. Laertes' fon at laft the filence broke, And, rifing, thus with prudent purpofe fpoke :

Princes 1 I counfel war ;' but will not blame The chief difienting, whofe illuftrious name We all muft honour : yet, with patience, hear What now I offer to the public ear. I freely own the unnumber'd ills that wait On 'ft rife prolonged, and war's difaftrous ftate. With war lean famine and difeafes dwell, And difcord fierce, efcap'd the bounds of hell. Where'er on earth her courfe the fury bends A crowd of mifchiefs ftill her fteps attends; Fear flies before her fwifter than the wind, And defolation marks her path behind. Yet her, attended thus, the gods ordain Stern arbitrefs of right to mortal men ; To awe injuftice with her lifted fpear, And teach the tyrants of the earth to fear. If Thebes is perjur'd, and exerts her might For ufurpaVon jfl contempt of right j

(If oaths defpisM, and all the ties which bind The great fociety of human kind) For Eteocles in the war fhe flood, And drench'd her thirfty fields with Grecian blood; [vain

The gods themfelves have err'd, and plac'd in 1 he fcepter'd kings injuftice to reftrain ;, ' Elfe (he deferves the laft extremes to fe^l Of waiteful fire and keen devouring rteel. Though prudence urg'd arid equity approv'd, Joining to fecond what Tydides mov'd, Wo could not hope the war fot peace to change, Thebes thinks not now of fafety but revenge. Laft night, difguis'd, I mingled with the foe, Their fecret hopes and purpofes to know ; And found that Creon, with his martial train, This day intends to brave us on the plain, [claim'd, Greece too, I heard, by barb'rous fovereigns Some Athens, Argos, fome Mjczene nam'd; Sparta and Pylos, with the various towns Which grace, in profpect fair,th' Arcadian downs : Others yEtolia challeng'd for their lot j Nor was ev'n Ithaca itfelf forgot. From fuch vain hopes to boafting they proceed > Each promifes to win fome hero's head. Leophron too, diftinguifh'd from the reft, Superior pride and infolence exprefs'd ; In form a god he 'midft th' affembly ftood, By all ador'd the idol of the crowd ; And promised, if he chanc'd in fight to meet Th' JEtolian chief, to ftretch him at his feet ; Unlefs fome god oppos'd, or daftard fear, By fuddeu flight, fiiould fnatch him from his

fpear.

Can we then hope by peace to end our toils, When foes lecure already fhare our fpoils ? Peace to expecl: from flight itfelf were vain ; And flight, I know, your gen'rous fouls difdain.

He faid. The chiefs with indignation burn'd j And Diomed fubmitting thus return'd : Princes ! I need not for myfelf profefs, What all have witnefs'd, all muft fure confefs; That' in the front of battle ftill engag'd, I never fhunn'd to mingle where it rag'd. Nor now does fear perfuade me to retire, Falfe Greon fafe, and guilty Thebes entire ; But war and famine thin our martial pow'rs, Whilft adverfe fates protect the Theban tow'rs. And as the careful fhepherd turns his flock Back from the dangers of the flipp'ry rock, And from the haunts where foxes mark the

ground,

Or rapid rivers flow with banks unfound ; So kings fliould warn the people to forbear Attempts, when fymptoms mark deftruclion near. But fince the leaders, with confenting voice, For war already fix the public choice ; I freely yield, nor ever will divide, Where ail deliberate, and all decide.

The hero thus, and ceasM. And thus the reft. From his high feat, the king of men addrefs'd : Since war is now decreed, 'tis next our care That all Ihould fpeedily for fight prepare. Creon, this day, intends with all his train To try our valour on the equal plain ; And will, with diligence, improve an hour. Which finds us inattentive and fecure.

EPIGONIAD, BboKl.

Tit ft let each leader with his hands in hafte Snatch, as the time allows, a fhort repait ; Then arm for fight, and to the field proceed,^ The phalanx following as the chariots lead. Who arms the firft, and firft to combat goes, Though weaker, feems fuperior to his foes;

But fuch as lag are more than half overthrown, Lefs in the eyes of others and their own.

The monarch thus. The princes all aflent. Straight from the council through the hoft they To arm their bands with diligence and care ; [went, They all obey, and all for fight prepare.

B O O K II.

ASSEMBLED on the plain, the Theban pow'rs Jn order'd ranks appear before the tow'rs; Creon their leader, whofe fuperior fway The partial fons of facred Thebes obey. The chiefs obedient to his high command, Raid the whole war, and marfliall'd every band. His valiant fon the firft, his country's boaft, Her nobleft hope, the bulwark of her hoft, Leophron, to the field the warriors led, Whom Thebes herfelf within her ramparts bred: Peneleus, who from Medeon led his pow'rs, CEchalia low, and Arne's lofty tow'rs : Leitus from Theipia, where the verdant (hades 'Of Helicon invite the tuneful maids :, Porthenus rich, whole wide poflellions lay Where fam'd Alfopus winds his wat'ry way; Beneath Cytheron's height, the lofty mound Which parts Boeotian plains from hoftile ground : Phericles, who the valiant warriors led In Mycaleffus, Harma, Aulis, bred : Andremon, leader of his native band, From lofty Schcenus on th' Ifmenian ftrand : And Anthedon, where fwift Eunpus pent Divides Euboea from the continent.: Thefe rul'd the Theban- pow'is, beneath the care Of Creon, chief and fov'reign of the war.

The aids from Macedon the next were plac'd ; Their (hining cafques with waving plumage

grac'd; ' f

A wolf's gray hide, around their fhoulders flung, Wi^h martial grace above their armour hung : From high Dodona's facred (hades they came ; Cafl'ander led them to the fields of fame. The Thracians next, a formidable band ; Nations and tribes diftinc'l, in order ftand: Byzantines fierce, whole crooked keels divide The Pontic gulf, and (tern the downward tide : In Grecian arms the hardy warriors move, With pond'rous fhields and glitt'ring (pears above. The Thynians next were marmall'd on the field ; Each with a faulchion arm'd, and lunar (hield, Whofe bending horns a verge of filver bound ; And figures fierce their brazen helmets crown'd : With thefe the Daci came, a martial race ; Fierce as their clime, they rear the pond'rous

mace ;

In giant ftrength fecure, they fcorn the fpear. And crufh, with weighty blows, the ranks of war; From Ifter's icy ftreams, a barb'rous crowd, In (haggy furs, a herd promifcuous flood ; Swift as their favage game : for wide they roam Jn tribes and nations, ignorant of home ; Excelling all who boaft fuperior (kill ^Jo fend the winged arrow fwift to kill :

Thefe Rhoefus rul'd, of various tribes compos'd!. By various leaders on the, field dilpos'd.

To fight the Argives mov'd in clofe array : Bright (hone their arms, and flam'd redoubled day; Refolv'd, and (till as filent night, they go ; > Nor with infulting fhouts provoke the foe. Thick from their fteps, in du(ky volumes, rife The parched fields, and darken all the flues. Beneath the (hade, the ardent warriors clofe ; Their fliields and helmets ring with founding blows.

Firrf Menelaus ftruck a Theban lord ; His armed breaft the weighty lance explor'd; Burft the clofe mail ; the mining breaftplate tore; And from life's fountain drew a ftream of gore. Supine he fell amidft his native bands, And wrench'd the fixed dart with dying bands. To fpoil the (lain tije ion of Atreus flies ; The Thebans interpofe with hoitile cries; And Creon's valiant fon his buckler fpread, An orb of triple brafs to guard the dead : As Jove's imperial bird her wings extends, And from the (hepherds* rage her young defends f So (tern Leophron bore his ample (hield ; Like Mars, he flood the terror of the field. With dread unufual check'd, the Spartan band Recoil'd ; Atrides only dar'd to ftand. He thus began. Prefumptuous youth I forbear To tempt the fury of my flying fpear. That warrior there was by my javelin flain, His fpoils to guard you interpofe in vain. Atrides thus ; and Creon's fon replies : Thy lance I dread not, and thy threats defpifr. This hand hath many a chief of high renown, And braver warriors oft in fight o'erthrownt Like theirs, thy fall (hall dignify my fpear, And future boafters thence be taught to fear-. Thus as he fpoke, his weighty lance he threw At Atreus' fon ; which riling as it flew Upon the hero's creft with furious fway, Gianc'd as it pafs'd, and fhav'd the plumes away. Hiding amidft the Spartan ranks it came, And (truck a youth of undiftinguifh'd name : Cold, through his breaft, the fteel and polifhVl

wood A paifage forc'd, and drew a flream of blood.

His lance Atrides next prepares to throw; Poifes it long, and meditates the blow. Then, from his hand difmifs'd with happier aim, Thund'ring againft the Theban (hield it came ; Where wreath'd around a mimic lerpent twin'd, With plates of pohfh'd filver lightly join'd. Thence turn'd with courfe oblique it drove along, And fpent its fnry on the vulgar throng.

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

Xeophron (Iraight his flaming faulchion drew, x\nd at his foe with eager fury flew : As (looping from above, an eagle fprings To fnatch his prey, and (hoots upon his wings. The Spartan warrior dreads impending fate; And, turning, meditates a quick retreat As when a (hepherd fwain, in defert (hades, The blood-nurs'd offspring of the wolf invades ; If, from the opening of fome thicket near, With rage inflam'd, the angry dam appear, With darts at firft, and threat'ning fliouts he tries To awe the guardian, and aflert the prize : But, when (he tarings, the clofe encounter dreads, And, trembling, from the angry foe recedes. So Menelaus fled. His native train, In wild diforder, fcatters o'er the plain.

His valiant brother heard upon the right, Where in his lofty car he rul'd the fight ; And to his 'fquire Nicomachus. With (peed, Turn to the left, and urge the flying deed : For, if thefe founds deceive not, Sparta fails; And, with a tide of conqueft, Thebes prevails. Qnick as the word, the filver reins he drew, And through the fight the bounding chariot flew. Like fome fwift veifel, when a prolp'rous gale Favours her courfe, and ftretches ev'ry fail ; Above the parting waves (he lightly flies, And fmooth behind a track of ocean lies : So r T rnidft the combat, rufh'd the lofty car, Pierc'd the thick tumult, and disjoin'd the war. Bnt Clytodemon's fon a jav*lin threw ; With force impell'd, it lighten'd as it flew, And (truck the right-hand courfer to the ground, Eihon, for ivviftnefs in the race renown'd. Behind his ear the deadly weapon ftcod. Lcos'd his high neck, and drew a (tre m of blood. Clroaning he funk ; and ipread his flowing mane, A fhining circle on the dufty plain. Entangled deep the royal chariot (tood, "With hoftile fpears befet, an iron wood.

From his high feat the Spartan hero fprung Amid the foe ; his clanging armour rung, JBefore the king, the armed bands retire ; As fhepherd fwain s avoid a lion's ire, When fierce from famine on their darts he turns, And rage indignant in his eyeballs burns. Amid the fight, diftinguiih'd like th (tar Of eVm<> - ,(hone hisfilver arms afar ; Which, o'er the hills, its fetting li^ht difplays; And marks the ruddy wen: with filver rays* J J ale and amaz'd his- brother chief he found, An armed circle of his friends around. Alas, my brother, have I li<v'd to fee Thy life redeem'd with deathlefs infamy! (The hero cry'd), far better that a ghoft You now had wander'd on the Sfygian coaft, And by a glorious fall preferv'd your name Safe and unblafted by the breath of fame ; "Which foon dial! tell the world, amaz'd to hear, That Menelaus taught the hoft to fear.

By confcious guilt fubdu'd.the youth appear'J j Without reply, die juft reproach he heard : Confounded, to the ground he turn'd his eyes ; Indignant thus the great Atrides cries : IVIyceneans ! Spartans ! taught to feek renown From dangers greatly brav'd, and battles won ; Ah warriors ! wiirye fly, when clofe behind Piflionour follows fvviftcr than the wind ?

Return to glory : whether Jove ordains, With wreaths of conqueft, to reward your pain% Or dooms your fall ; he merits equal praife, With him who conquers, he who bravely dies. The hero thus; and, like fwift light'ning driv'n Through fcatter'd clouds along the vault of heav'n By Jove's dread arm, his martial voice infpir'd The fainting hod, and ev'ry bofom fir'd. Again upon the conqu'ring foe they turn'd: The war again in all its fury burn'd. As when the deep, which ebbing from the land Along the coaft difplays a wade of land, Returns ; and, blown by angry terapefts, roars A (tormy deluge v> gainft the rocky fliores : So, nidiing to the fight, the warriors came ; Ardent to conquer, and retrieve their fame.

Before his hoft the fon of Creon ftood, With laboured duft obfcure, and hoftile blood ; He thus exciaim'd : And (hall this daftard train. ( Warriors of Thebes) ! difpute the field again ? Their better chief, I know him, leads the band ; But fate (hall foon fubdue him by my hand. He (aid; and at the king his jav'Hn threw; Which, aim'd amifs, with erring fury flew. Acrofs the armed ranks it fwiftly drove, The warriors (looping as it rufti'd above. The Spartan hero aim't! his weighty fpear ; And thus to Jove adclrefs'd an ar.lent prayer : ' Hear me, great fire of gods I whofe boundlefs (way The fates of men and mortal things obey ; Whofe fov'reign hand, with unrefiired might, Depreftes or exalts the fcales of fight : Now grant fuccefs to iny avenging hand, And (tretch this dire dettroyer on the fand. Jove, grant me now to reach his hated life, And fave my warriors in this doubtful ftrife. The hero thus ; and Cent 1m weighty fpear, With fpeed it flew, and pierc'd the yielding air; Swift as a faulcon to her quarry fprings, When down the wind Die ftretches on her wingi. Leophron, (looping, fbunn'd the deadly ftroke, Which on the (liield of Hegifander broke. Vain now his lute ; in vain his melting drains, Soft as Apollo's on the Lyciaii plains: His foul excluded, feeks the dark abodes By Styx embrac'd, the terror of the gods; Where furly Charon, with his lifted oar, Drives the light ghofts, and rules the dreary fliorcv

With grief Leophron faw the warrior (lain. He fnatch'd a pond'rous mace from off the plain. Cut in the Thracian woods, with (nags around Of pointed fteel, with iron circles bound. Heav'd with gigantic force the club to throw, He fwung it thrice, and hurPd it at his foe. Thund'ring upon his armed head it fell ; The brazen helmet rang with (tunning knell. As when a rock by forceful engines thrown, Where hoftile armsinveft a frontier town, Threat'ning dellructign, rolls along the (kies; And war itfelf (lands wond'ring as it flies: Falls on fume turret's top, the ftructure bends Beneath the tempeft, and at once deicends With hideous craih ; thus, (looping to the ground,, Atridc-s funk ; his filver arms refound. But Pallas, mixing in the dire debate, A life to refcue yet not due to fate, Had o'er his head her cloudy buckler heI3; AaJ half the fury of the blow repeii'd.

EPIGONIAD, BOOK IT.

The fon of Creon rufh'd to feize his prize, The hero's ipoils ; and thus exulting cries : Warriors of The'nes ! your labours foon fliall ceafe, And final victory reftoie your peace ; For ^reat Atrides, by my valour flain, A iit'eleis corfe, lies ftretch'd upon the plain. Only be men ! and make the Argive bands- Dread in fucceeding times your mighty hands ; That foes no more, when mad ambition calls, With dire alarms may fliake your peaceful walls. Exulting thus, the hero rufh'd along ; And kindled, with his fliouts, the vulgar throng. Refolv'd and firm the Spartan warriors ftand Around their king, a formidable band. Their fpears, protended thick, the foe reftrain'd ; Their bucklers join'd, the weighty war fultain'd. But as a mountain wolf, from famine bold, On prey intent, furveys the midnight' fold ; Where, in the flielter of fome arching rock, At ev'n the careful mepherd pens his flock : On fpoil and ravage bent, he ftalks around, And meditates to Ipring the lofty mound : Impatient thus the Fheban chief furvey'd The clofe-compacted ranks on ev'ry fide ; To fiiul where leaft the ferred orb could, bear The ftrong impreffion of a pointed war. Him Menelaus faw, with anguilh ftung; And, from amidft his armed warriors, fprung With wrath rnflam'd ; as darting from a brake, Againft fome trav'ller, darts a crefted faake. His rage in vain the Theban ranks withftand ; The braved warriors fink beneath his hand. Clytatuler, Iphitus, Paiemon, faro'd For chariots rul'd and fiery courfers tam'd ; And Iphialtes, like the god of light, Whofe pointed arrows thinn'd the lines of fight : Thefe the firrt tranfports of his fury feel. Againft Leophron now he lifts his fteel, And fpeeds to vengeance ; but, in full career, He (tood arrelted by a vulgar fpear. Fix'din his. thigh the barbed weapon hung, Relax'd the mufcles, and the nerves unftrung. The Spartan warriors to his fuccour flew ; Againlt the darts their ample fliields they threw, Which ftorm'd around ; and, from the rage of war, Convey'd the wounded hero to his car.

With fierce impatience Creon's fon beheld The Spartan,warriors {till difpute the field. Before their leader fall'n, the hero ftocd ; Their fpears erected, like the facred wood "Which round fome altar riles on the plain, The myftic rites to hide from eyes profane. Thither his native bands the hero turn'd ; Drawn to a wedge, again the combat burn'd. Through all the air a ftorm of jav'lins fung ; With (bunding blows each hollow buckler rung. Firft J^opjeus felt a deadly wound, Who in Amycle till'd the fruitful ground ; To great Andremon's fpear he yields his breath, And darts and quivers in the gralp of death. Next Hegefippus prefs'd th' infanguin'd plain ; Leophron's jav'lin mix'd him with the flain. On Malea's cliffs he fed his fleecy (tore, Along the windings of the craggy fliore. He vow'd to Phoebus, for a fafe return, An hundred victims on his hearth to burn. In vain! the god, in juftice, had decreed, His gifts contemn'd, the offerer to bleed j

For violence augmented ftill his ftore ; And, unreliev'd, the ftranger left his door. Prone on the bloody ground the warrior fell; His foul indignant fought the {hades of hell.

Next Areas, Cleon, valiant Chromius, dy'd ; With Dares, to the Spartan chiefs ally'd. And Phoemius, whom the gods in early youth Had form'd for virtue and the love of truth ; His gen'rous foul to noble deeds they turn'd, And love to mankind in his bofom burn'd : Cold through his throat the hiffing weapon glides,, And on his neck the waving locks divides. His fate the graces mourrr'd. The gods above, Who fit around the ftarry throne of Jove, On high Olympus bending from the Ikies, His fate beheld with forrow-ftreaming eyes. Pallas alone, unalter'd and ferene, With fecret triumph faw the mournful fcene : Not hard of heart ; for none of all the pow'rs, In earth or ocean, or th' Olympian tow'rs, Holds equal fympathy with human grief, Or with a freer hand beftows relief } But confcious that a mind by virtue fteel'd, To no impreffion of diftrefs will yield ; That, ftill unconquer'd, in its awful hour O'er death it triumphs with immortal pow'r.

Now, Thebes prevailing, Sparta's hoft retreats; As falls fome rampart where the ocean beats : Unable to refift its ftormy way, Mounds heap'd on mounds, and bars of rock give

way;

With inundation wide the deluge reigns, Drowns the deep valleys, and o'eripreads the

plains.

Thus o'er the field, by great Leophron led, Their foes repuls'd, the Theban Squadrons ipread. The hero, (looping where Atrides lay, Rent from his head the golden cafque away ; His mail unlock'd ; and loos'd the golden chains. The zone which by his fide the fword fuftains. The monarch now amid the vulgar dead, For wheels to crufli and armed hoofs to tread, Defencelefs lay. But ftern Leophron's hate Retriev'd him, thus expos'd, from certain fate. In femblance dead, he purpos'd to convey The body naked to fome public way ; Where dogs obfcene, and all the rav'nous race, With wounds unfightly, might his limbs difgracej Straight he commands; and to a neighb'ring grove. His warriors, charg'd, the Spartan chief remove. On their broad Ihields they bore him from the plaia. To fenfe a corfe, and number'd with the flain. His fixed eyes in hov'ring fliades were drown'd j, His mighty limbs in death-like fetters bound. VThe fliouts tumultuous, and the din of war, His ear receiv'd like murmurs from afar ; Or as fome peafant hears, fecurely laid Beneath a vaulted cliflfor woodland-fhade, When o'er his head unnumber'd infects fin^ In airy rounds, the children or the fpring. Adraftus' valiant fon, with grief, beheld The Spartans to inglorious flight compell'd; Their valiant chief refign'd to hoftile hands. He thus aloud addrefs'd the featuring bands s What fliame, ye warriors ! if ye thus expofe Your leader to the injuries of foes ! Though all fliould quit him, honour bids you bring His relicj back, or perifli with your king*

THE WORKS OP WILKIE.

Leophrpn fure injurioufly ordains, "With infults, to deface his dear remains ; Spurn'd by the feet of men, expos'd and bare, For dogs obfcene, and rav'nous birds to fhare. Exclaiming thus, through all the field he flew j .And call'd the hoft the conflict to renew. They flop, they charge ; again the combat burns : They bleed, they conquer, and retreat by turns. Hegialus excites the dire debate j And, by example, leads the work of fate : ' For now he fees Atrides borne afar, By hoftile hands, beyond the lines of war. With indignation fierce his bofom glows; He rufhes fearlefs 'midft a hoft of foes ; And now had merited a deathlefs name, And with a deed immortal crown'd his fame, Atrides liv'd ; but fate's fupreme command That honour deftin'd for a mightier hand.

Leophron vex'd, that twice conftrain'd to yield, The Spartan warriors re-affum'd the field, His powers addrefs'd : For ever loft our fame, Difhonour foul will blot the Theban name; If daftard foes, twice routed and purfu'd, Shall brave the victors, ftill with rage renewed. Your glory gain'd with vigour now maintain ; Nor let us conquer thus and bleed in vain. He faid, and 'gainft the Argive hero turn'd ; With martial wrath his ardent bofom burn'd j Who, fearlefs and undaunted, dar'd to wait ; Nor by ignoble flight declinM his fate. For at the Theban chief his lance he threw, Which, aim'd amifs, with erring fury flew : Beyond the hoftile ranks th^ weapon drove ; The warrior's ftooping as it kufh'd above. JNot fo the Theban fpear; witk happier aim, Full' to the centre of the fhieid. it came; And, rifing fwiftly from the polifh'd round, His throat transfixed, and bent him to the ground. To fpoil the ilain the ardent victor flew : The Spartan bands the bloody fnock renew ; Fierce to the charge with tenfold rage return, And all at once with thirft of vengeance burn. O'er all the field the raging tumult grows ; And ev'ry helmet rings with founding blows; j^ut moft around the Argive hero dead ; There toil the mightieft, there the braveft bleed. Jis when outrageous winds the ocean fweep, And from the bottom ftir the hoary deep ; CTer.aH the wat*ry plain the tempeft raves, Mixrng in coRfticl loud the angry waves : But where fome pointed cliff the furface hides, Whofe top itnfeen provokes the angry tides, With tenfold fury there the billows fly, And mount in fmoke and thunder to the (ky

Adraftus, by unaclive age reftrain'd, JBehind the army on a mount rerain"d ; Under an oak the hoary warrior fat, And lookM and liftenM to the dire debate. Now>, tam'd by age, his courfersftood unbound ; His ufelefs arras lay fc atterM on the ground j

Two aged heralds there the chief obey'J ; The 'fq*uire attending by his mafter ftay'd. And thus the king : What founds .invade mine

ear?

My friends ! what fad difafter muft we hear ? Some hero's fall ; for with the fliouts, I know Loud lamentation mixt, and founds of woe. So were we told, when mighty Tydeus fell, And Poiynices trod the path to hell ; So rag'd the combat o'er the hero flain, And fuch the din and tumult of the plain. He faid ; and lift'ning (what he greatly fear'd) ] Hegialus's name at lead he heard Mix'd with the noife ; and, fick'ning at the founi By grief fubdu'd, fell profli ate on the ground. But rage fucceeding, and defpair, he role Eager to rufh amid the thickeft foes. - His fpear he grafp'd, impatient for the fight; And pond'ious fhieid, unequal to the weight. Him frantic thus, his wife attendants held ; And to retire with prudent care compell'd, Impatient of his ftate, by quick returns, With grief he melts, with indignntion burns^ And thus at laft : Stern ruler of the fky ! Whofe fport is man, and human mifery; What deed of mine has flirr'd thy bound lefs rage, And call'd for vengeance on my hdpicfs age ? Have I, by facrilege, yeur treaiures drain'd ; Youf altars flighted, or your rites\profan'd ? Did I forget my holy vows to pay ? Or bid you witnefs, and my faith betray? Has lawlefs rapine e'er increas'd my ftote, Or, unrelievM, the ftranger left my door ? If not; in juftice, can your ftern decree With wrath puriue my guiltlefs race and me ? Here valiant Tydeus^ Polynices fell ; In one fad hour they trod the path to hell : For them my daughters mourn, their forrows fltna? Sti/1 frefli, and all their days are fp'ent in woe. Hegialus r.emain'd my hopes to raife ; The only comfort of my joylefs days :' In whom I faw my vigorous v,autK return, And all our native virtues brighter burn. He's now no more ; and to the nether fkies> Banifh'd by fate, a bloodiefs fpeclre flies. For what, ye, gods ! has unrelenting fate Curs'd nay misfortunes with fo long a date?> That thus Hive to fee our ancient race At once extinguifli'd, and for ever ceafe ! Gods ! grant me ROW, the only boon I crave, For all my forrows paft, ft peaceful grave : Now let me perifb, that my fleeting ghoft. May reflch my fon in Pluto's fhady coaft; WiKyflPjoinM for ever, kipdred fouls enjoy AiWrnion fix*d,-which nothing can deftroy. He faid ; and finking proftrate on the ground, His furrow'd cheeks with floods of tbrrow

drown'd ;

And, furious in the rage of grief, o r erfpread With duft ;he reverend honours of his head*

EPIGONIAD, Boo* III.

BOOK III.

THE Spartan bands, with third of vengeance fir'd, The fight maintairt'd; nor from their toils refpir'd. Before the hero fall'n the warriors ftand, Firm as the chains of rock which guard the ftrand; Whofe rooted ftrength the angry ocean braves, And bounds the fury of his burfting waves. So Sparta flood; their ferred bucklers bar The Theban phalanx, and exclude the war. While from the field, upon their fhoulders laid, His warriors fad the Argive prince convey'd; Leophron faw, with indignation fir'd, And with his fhouts the ling'ring war infpir'd. Again the rigour of the fhock returns ; The flaughter rages, and the combat burns; Till, puih'd and yielding to fuperior fway, In flow retreat the Spartan ranks give way. As, in fome channel pent, entangled wood Reluctant ftirs before the angry flood; Which, on its loaded current, flowly heaves The fpoils of forefts mix'd with harveft {heaves.

Pallas obferv'd, and from th' Olympian height Precipitated fwift her downward flight. Like Cleon's valiant fon, the goddefs came ; The fame her ftature, and her arms the fame. Defcending from his chariot to the ground, The fon of Tydeus, 'midft his bands, ihe found ; His deeds unrul'd : for, ftretch'd before the wheel, Lay the bold driver pierc'd with Theban fteel. On the high car her mighty hand fhe laid, And thus addrefa'd the valiant Diomed : The Spartan warriors, prince! renounce the fight, -O'ermatch'd by numbers and fuperior might : While adverfe fate their valiant chief reftrains, Who dead or wounded with the foe remains ; Hegialus lies lifelefs on the earth, Brother to her from whom you claim your birth. The great Atrides, as he prefs'd to fave, Leophron's jav'lin mark'd for him the grave. To vengeance hade; and, ere it is too late, With fpcedy fuccour flop impending fate : For ftern Leophron, like the rage of flame, With ruin threatens all the Spartan name. The goddefs thus : Tydides thus replies : How partial are the counfels of the flcies ! For vulgar merit oft the gods with care Honour, and peace, and happinefs prepare ; While worth, diftinguifh'd by their partial hate, Submits to all the injuries of fate. Adraflus thus with juilice may complain His daughters widow'd, fons in battle flain. In the devoted line myfelf I fland, And here muft perifh by fome hoflile hand: Yet not for this I fhun the works of war, Nor fkulk inglorious when I ought to dare. And now I'll meet yon terror of the plain, To crown his conquefts, or avenge the flain. But wifh fome valiant youth to rule my car, And pufh the horfes through the fhock of war, , Vf rj prefent ; for, extended in his gor, TV brave Speufippus know* his charge no more,

VOL, XJ.

Thus as the hero fpoke, Caflandra heard, And prefent, to afTume the charge, appear'd, By love infpir'd, fhe fought the fields of war; Her hero's fafety was her only care. A polifh'd cafque her lovely temples bound, With flowers of gold and various plumage crown'd; Confus'dly gay the peacock's changeful train, With gaudy colours mix'd of ev'ry grain : The virgin white, the yellow's golden hue, The regal purple, and the fhiningblue, With female fkill compos'd. The fhield fhe bore With flow'rs of gold was mark'd and fpanglcd

o'er:

Light and of fiend' reft make, fhe held a launce ; Like fome mock warrior armed fbr the dance, When fpring's return and mufic's cheerful drain The youth invite to frolic on the plain.

Illuftrious chief, the armed virgin faid, To rule your ftecds on me the tafk be laid ; SkilFd to direct their courffc with fteady rein, To wake their fiery mettle, or reftrain ; To flop, to turn, the various arts 1 know ; To pum them on direct, or fhun the foe. With ready hand your voice 1 fhall obey, And urge their fury where you point the way* The virgin thus : and thus Tydides faid : Your zeal I honour, but reject your aid. Fierce are my fleeds ; their fury to reftrain The ftrongeft hand requires, and ftifieft rein : For oft, their mettle rous'd, they rufh along; Nor feel the biting curb, or founding thong. Oft have I feen you brave the toils of fight, With dauntlefs courage, but unequal might. Small is your force; and, from your arm unilrung, The harmlefs launce is impotently flung. Yet not for this you fhun the martial ftrife, Patient of wounds, and prodigal of life. Where'er I combat, faithful to my fide, No danger awes you, and no toils divide. Yet grudge not that your fervice I decline ; Homocleon's better hand fhall guide the rein i His manly voice my horfes will obey, And move fubmiflive to his firmer fway.

Th' ^itolian warrior thus ; and, with a bound^ Rofe to his lofty chariot from the ground. The goddefs to the driver's feat proceeds, AfTumes the reins, and winds the willing fteeds. On their fmooth fides the founding lafh fhe plies, And through the fight the fmokirig chariot flies. Th' Athenians foon they pals'd ; and Phocians

ftrong,

Who from fair Crifia led their martial throng. Th' Arcadians next, from Alpheus' filver flood, And hardy Eleans, grim with duft and bloody In order rang'd. As when fome pilot fpies The rocky cliffs in long fucceflion rife, When near the land his galley fcours the fliores, By profp'rous winds impell'd and fpeeding oars; So, haftening to the fight, the hero flew ; notv the Spartan h&ft appear* in VICYT ;

THE WORKS OF W ILK-IE.

By wounds fubduM, their braveft warriors lay;

Others, by. fhameful flight, their fear obey ;

The reft in flow retreat forfake the field,

O'ermatch'd by numbers, and conflrain'd to yield.

Th' ./Etolian hero faw, and raised his voice,

I/oud as the filver trumpet's martial noife,

And rufli'd to fight : through all the field it flew;

The hoft at once the happy fignal knew,

And joy'd, as they who, from the found'ring fhip

Efcap'd, had ftruggled long amid the deep :

Faint from defpair, when hope and vigour fail,

If, hafl'ning to their aid, appears a fail;

With force fenew'd their weary limbs they drain,

And- climb the flipp'ry ridges of the main.

So jqy'd the Spartans foj-epulfe the foe ;

With hope reftor'd their ^en'rousbofoms glow:

While Thebes, fufpended 'midfl her conquefl,

ftands, And feels a fudden ch^ck through all her bands.

Leophron only, far before the reft, Tydides waited with a dauntlefs breafl. Firm and unaw'd the hardy warrior flood, Like fome fierce boar amid.his native wood, - When armed f wains his gloomy haunts invade, And trace his footfteps through the lonely fhade;' Refolv'd he hears approach the hoftile found, Grinds his white teeth, and threat'ning glares

around ;

So flood Leophron, trufling in his might, And fhook his armour, eager for the fight. Tydides faw; and, fpringing from his car, Thus bra,v'd the hero, as he ruih'd to war : O fon unhappy, of a fire accurfl ! The plague of all, and fated to the worfl \ , The injuries of Greece demand thy breath; See in my hand the inftrument of death. Hegialus's ghoft fhall lefs deplore His fate untimely on the Stygian fhore, [come When banifh'd from the light, your fhade fhall To mingle with the dark infernal gloom, - ' Tydides thus : and Greon's fon replies : Your fear in vain by boafting you difguife ; Such vulgar art a novice oft confounds, To fcenes of battle new and martial founds^ Though loft on me, who dwell amid alarms, And never met a greater yet in arms.

Thus as the warrior fpoke, his launce with care He aim'd, and fent it hifling through the air. On Diomed's broad fhield the weapon fell; Loud rung the ftunning brafs with echoing knell : But the flrong orb, by Vulcan's labour bound Repell'd, and fent it blunted to the ground. . Tydides next his pond'rous jav'lin threw : With force impel!' d, it brighten'd as it flew ; And pierc'd the border of the Theban fhield, Where, wreath'd around, a ferpent guards the

field;

.Through the clofe mail an eafy paffage found, And mark'd his thigh, in paffi^g, with a wound. Now in clofe fight the angry chiefs engage, Like two fell griffins rous'd to equal rage ; Pois'd on their rolling trains they fiercely rife With blood-befpotted crefts and burning eyes : With poifon fraught they aim their deadly ftings Clafp their fharp fangs, and mix their rattling

wings.

In combat thus, the ardent warriors clos'd, With ihicld to Ujicld, and foot to foot

r irft at his foi Leophron alrri'd a ftrokc, Jut on his polifh'd cafque the faulchion broke : From the fmooth fteel the fhiver'd weapon fprun, Aloft in air its ruffing fplinters fung. Mot fo, Tydides, did thy weapon fail ; With force impell'd, it pierc'd the filver mail, Whofe Hiding plates the warrior's neck fnrround: A tide of gore came rulhing from the wound. Stagg'ring to earth, he funk with head declin'd, And life in long convulfive throbs refign'd. Nor ftoop'd Tydides to defpoil the flain ; The warrior goddefs led him, crofs the plain, Towards the grove where great Atrides lay ; Th' immortal fpear fhe ftretch'd, and mark'd the way.

Thither amid furrounding foes they hafte, Who fhunn'd them, ftill retreating as they pafs'd; And ent' ring found the Spartan hero laid On the green fward, beneath the bow'ring fhade. The guard fecure, lay ftretch'd upon the ground ; Their fhiclds refign'd, their launces pitch'd around : One only near a winding riv'let flood, Which turn'd its wand'ring current through the

wood;

His helmet fill'd with both his hands he rear'd, In adl to drink, when in the grove appear'd Th' ./Etolian prince. His armour's fiery blaze 1 he dark recefs illumin'd with its rays. Amaz'd the Thebah flood ; and from his hand The helmet flipp'd, and roll'd upon the fand. - Not more afraid the wond'ring fwain defcries 'Midft night's thick gloom a flaming meteor rife ; Sent by the furies, as he deems, to fow Death and difeafes on the earth below. Tydides conies ! with fault'ring voice he cry'd, And ftraight to flight his willing limbs apply'd. With fudden dread furpris'd the guards retire, As fhepherd fwains avoid a lion's ire, Who roams the heights and plains, from famine The flail to ravage, or aflault the fold. [bold,

Now, lifelefs as he lay, the martial maid Atrides with a pity ing eye furvey'd ; And with her fpear revers'd, the hero fhcok : The touch divine his iron flumber broke ; As when his drowfy mate the fhepherd fwain Stirs with his crook, and calls him to the plain; When in the eaft he fees the morning rife, And redd'ning o'er his head the colour'd flcies. When from the ground his head the hero rais'd, In full divinity the goddefs blaz'd ; Her left, reveal'd, the dreadful JEgis rears, Whofe ample field the fnaky Gorgon bears ; Th' immortal launce flood flaming in the right, Which fcatters and confounds the ranks of fight. Speechlefs the chiefs rcmain'd ; amazement ftrong, In mute fufpenfeand filence, held them long. And thus the goddefs : Atteus' fon ! arife, Confefs the partial favour of the flcies. For thee I leave the thund'rer's lofty feat, To wake the flumb'ring on the verge of fate : To you let Diomed his arms refign ; Unequal were your force to govern mine : His ftronger arm fhall bear this pond'rous fhield, His better hand the weighty jav'lin wield. Arife ! be fudden, for you iocs draw near ; Affur'd to conquer when the gods appear.

The goddefs hus- and. mixing with the wind* Left in a heap her fk'aeu&g arms behind

E PIG ONI AD, BOOK III.

Upon the field ; with loud harmonious peal, Th' immortal buckler rung, and golden mail. And thus Atrides, rifmg from the ground : In this, approv'd is hoar tradition found ; That oft, defcending from th' ethereal tow'rs, To mix with mortals, come the heav'nly pow'rs : But ne'er till now I law a god appear, Or more than human voice drd ever hear. Do you, my friend, aflume thefe arms divine ; The mortal and inferior fhali be mine.' Atrides thus; and Diomed reply'd : To heav'n obedience muft not be deny'd ; Elfe you yourfelf th' immortal arms fhould wield, And I with thefe attend you on the held. But of the pow'rs above, whofe fov'reign fway The fates of men and mortal things obey, Pallas, withfureft vengeance ftill purfues Such as obedience to her will refufe.

He fait!, and ftraight hislhining arms unbound, The caique, the mail, the buckler's weighty round ; "With fecret joy th' immortal helmet took: High on its creft the waving plumage (hook. This whofoever wears, hisiharp'ned eyes All dangers mock of ambufh and furprife ; Their ray unquench'd, the midnight fhade divides t No cunning covers, and no darknefs hides. The bread-plate next he takes, whofe matchleis Firm courage fixes in the bounding heart; . [art The rage of war, unmov'd, the wearer braves, And rides ferene amid the ftormy waves ! The glitt'ring mail a ftarry baldric bound, His arm fuftain'd the buckler's weighty round ; Impenetrably ftrong, its orb can bear And turn, like fofteft lead, the pointed fpeftr } Nor yields to aught, in earth or heav'n above, But the dread thunder of almighty Jove. Th' immortal fpear the hero laft did wield, Which fixes conqueft, and decides a field ; Nor ftrength nor numbers can its rage withftand, Sent by a mortal or immortal hand.

Thus arm'd to meet the foe Tydides mov'd, And glory'd, confcious of his might improV'd ; Like the proud fteed rejoicing in his force, "When the fhrill trumpet wakes him to the courfe : Fierce and impatient of reftraint, he (trains "With ftiffen'd neck againit the galling reins. Taller he feem'd ; as when the morning, fpread "With golden luftre, crown* fome mountain's head In early fpring j when, from the meads below, A wreath of vapours binds his rocky brow ; In cloudy volumes fettling as they rife, They lift the lofty profped to the ikies. So in immortal arms the chief appear'd, His ftature broa'd difplay'd, and higher rear'd.

Now from the field approaching to the grove, Embattel'd thick, the Theban warriors move ; Slowly they move, as fwains with doubtful fteps Approach the thicket where a lion fleeps. Tydides law ; and, rufhing from the fhade, The Spartan call'd, and to the combat led. Unaw'd the hero met the ho'ftile band ; Nor could united force his rage withftand. They wheel'd aloof; as when a dragon fprings From his dark den, and rears his pointed wings Againft approaching fwairj. when fummer burns And the irefh lakes to parched defert turns; They fly difpers'd, nor tempt his fatal ire, His wrath-fwoln neck and eyes of living fire :

o fled the Thebans, nor efcapM by flight.

Amid their fquadrons, like a faulcori light,

The hero fprung; who, flopping from the flues,

The feather'd race difperfes as he flies.

Still from his hand th' immortal weapon flew;

And ev'ry flight an afrm-d warrior flaw.

Andremon firft, beneath his mighty hand,

Of life bereft, lay ftretch'd upon the fand.

Ph'erecydes gigantic prcfsM the phiin ;

And valiant Tereus Link amid the (lain.

Warriors to thofe of vulgar names fucceed ;

And all his path is mark'd with heaps of dead.

As when fome woodman, by inceffant ftrokes,

Beftrews a mountain with its falling oaks;

Fells the thick plains, the hawthorn's flow'f'y fliade,

The poplar fair by paffing currents fed; The laurel with unfading verdure crown'd ;

Heaps roll'd on heaps, the foreft finks around :

So fpFeads the (laughter, as the chief proceeds;

At every Itroke an armed warrior bleeds.

Atrides combats by the hero^fide,

To lliare his glory, and the toil divide :

Unmov'd amid the hoftile ranks they go; Before them far retreats the rooted foe.

And now the Spartan hoft appear'd in fight,

By toil fubdu'd, and ling'ring in the fight. Their valiant leader law, and rais'd his voice, Loud as the filver trumpet's martial noife, With hopes of victory his bands to cheer; It fwiftly flew : the diftant Spartans he,ar With glad furprife. Polypes thus addreft, And rous'd the languid valour of the reft. Myceneans ! Spartans 1 taught to feek renown From dangers greatly brav'd, and battles won; With forrow and regret I lee you yield, And Thebes victorious drive you from the field; Atrides calls us; to his aid reparr : No foe fubdues you but your own defpair. He yet furvives, befet with hollile bands, And, from your valour, prefent aid demands. He faid. The rigour of the fliock feturns ; The (laughter rages, and the combat burns* As when a reaping train their (Tckles wield, Where yellow harveit loads fome fruitful field; The 1 matter's heart, with lecret joy, o'crflows ; He prompts the work, and counts the lengthening

rows;

So 'midft the war, the pow'r of battles ftood, Pieas'd with the carnage and the Itreams of blood.

Elpenor firft lay lifelefs on the plain, ' f - By ftern Plexippus with a jav'Iin llain, A grief to Thebes. Euryalus the bold, Rich in his flocks, and rich in fums of gold, Beneath the arm of Ariftaeus fell; Loud rung his filver arm's with echoing knell : And tike ibme flow'r, whofe painted foliage fait With fragrant breath perfumes the vernal air, If the rude fcythe its tender root invades, It falls dilhonour'd, and its luftre fades. Thus fell Euryalus; whofe matchlefs grace, In youth's full bloom,. fufpafs'd the human race; For Cynthius only could with him compare, In corriely features, fhape, and flowing hair.

Now o'er the fields the rage of war" is fptfead; And heaps on heaps afcend the hills of.dead. Ranks meeting ranks oppofe with equal rage ; As \vhen the north and ftormy fouth ngaje ; Hi;

THE WORKS OF WILKItE.

Beneath their ftrife the troubled ocean roars ; And rufhing waves o'erwhelm the rocky Chores ; So rag'd the fight ; when burfting from a crowd Of thick oppofing foes the princes ftood Between the holts. And thus th' JEtolian lord : Spartans ! behold your valiant chief reftor'd ; Ye owe his fafety to Minerva's care ; Let hecatombs your gratitude declare. Soon as from Thebes you reach your native

ground,

Where flocks and herds for facrifice abound ; Now fight and conquer ; let this fignal day Your tedious toils, with viclory repay; And, for Hegialus, let thoufands dead With ample vengeance gratify his fliade. As-t'hus the hero fpoke, the warriors heard, And hope rekindling through the hoft appear'd ; With joyful fhouts they rent the trembling air, And blefs'd the gods, and own'd Minerva's- care.

Now, tow'ring in the midft, Atrides flood, And. call'd his warriors to the fight aloud ; As mariners with joy the fun deicry, Attending, in his courfe, the eaftern fky ; Who, all night long, by angry tempefts toft, Shunn'd with inceflant toil fome faithlefs coaft j So to his wifliing friends Atrides came ; Their danger fuch before, their joy the fame. Again the rigour of the fhock returns ; The flaughter rages, and the comat burns ; With thirft of vengeance ev'ry bofom glows. Tydides leads, and rufhes on his foes ; Around his head a ray of lightning flione From the fmooth helmet and the glitt'ring cone ; Like that by night which ftreams with fiery glare, When fome red meteor glides along the air, Sent by the angry gods, with tainted breath, To fow the feeds of peftilence and death : From look to look infectious terror fpreads ; ' And ev'ry wretch th' impending vengeance dreads.

Before the chief the Theban bands retire, As fhepherd fwains avoid the lion's ire. Clytander only, by the fates impell'd, Opposed him fingle, and difdain'd to yield ; Lycaon's fon ; deceiv'd by glory's charms, Superior might be brav'd and matchleis arms. Nor was his brother prefent by his .fide, To fhare-the clanger, and the toil divide; Himfelf a youth, and yet by time unfteel'd, Single, he met Tydides in the field. Againft r t:h' immortal fhield his lance he flung, Whofe hollow orb with deaf 'ning clangour rung : The tow'rs of Thebes re-echo'd to the found ; The fpear repuls'd, fell blunted on the ground. Tydides next th' immortal jav'lm threw ; With force impell'd, it brighten'd as it flew : And pierc'd the Theban helmet to the cone ; Behind his ear the ftarting weapon flione. Supine the warrior fell, his fpirit fled, And mix'd with heroes in th' El) flan fliade. To Ipoil the flam the ardent viclor flew : Firft from the wound the fixed lance he drew, The helmet loos'd, the coftly mail unbound, And fhining fliield with fculptor'd figures crown'd. Thefe fpoils the hero, in his grateful mind, A prefent for the gen'rous youth defign'd ; Who ftill in perilous battle fought his fide, And jproffer'tt late his warlike fteeds to guide.

Fatal the gift, the caufe of future woe \ But good and ill th' immortals only know, The armour to a vulgar hand configu'd, Again the hero, fwifter than the wind, To combat rufli'd.

But, from his throne above Declin'd, the all-furveying eye of Jove His progrefs mark'd. The herald pow'r, wh

brings

His fov'reign mandates on immortal wings, He thus'addrefs'd : To yonder fphere defcend ; Bid Phoebus ftraight his ev'ning charge attend : For, with reverted eye, he views the war, And checks the progrefs of his downward car. Let him not linger in th' ethereal way, But lafh his fteeds. and ftraight conclude the day; For, if the gods defcend not to her aid, Or ev'ning interpofe with friendly lhade, Thebes now mull perifli; and the doom of fate, Anticipated, have an earlier date Than fate ordains ; for, like devouring flame, Tydides threatens all the Theban name ; Immortal arms his native force improve, Conferr'J by Pallas, partial in her love.. Thefe to retrieve muft be your next effay ; Win them by art, and hither ftraight convey : For man with man an equal war mall wage : Nor with immortaL,weapons arm his rage.

He laid. And Maia's.fon, with fpeed, addreft His flight to Phoebus hov'ring in the weft. Upon a cloud his winged feet he ftay'd ; And thus the mandates of his fire convey'd. Ruler of light 1 Jet now thy car defcend, And filent night her peaceful fliade extend, Elfe Thebes muft perifli ; and the doom of fate, Anticipated, have an earlier date Than fate decrees ; for, like devouring flame, Tydides. threatens all the Theban name; Immortal arms his native force improve, Conferr'd by Pallas, partial in her love.

The fon of Maia thus. The god obey'd ; The founding lafh upon his fteeds he laid. Swift to the goal with winged feet they flew ; The night afcending as the day withdrew.

To Thebes the herald next purfu'd his way; Shot like a meteor with the fetting ray. Behind Tydides in the fight he ftay'd ; And on his head the potent fceptre laid : Whofe magic pow'r on waking fenfe prevails; Or, in profoundeft fleep. the eye unfeals; The ftruggling ghoit unbinds from mortal clay. And drives it down the dark Tartarean way. Subdu'd the hero ftood by pow'rful charms, Till Hermes ftript him of th' immortal arms; And, mounting to the ftarry roofs above, Difpos'd them in the armory of Jove. And, recollected, thus Tydides fpoke : Whate'er they give, th' immortals may revoke. I own their favour ; that, of mortal line The firft, I wore a panoply divine/ But if the day were lengthenM to my will, With light to point my jav'lin where to kill, Thebes now fliould periili ; but the morning ray Shall finifli what the ev'ning fliades delay.

And now the night began her filent reign ; Afcending, from the deep, th' ethereal plain, O'er both the hofts (he ftretch'd her ample Ihade, Their conflict to fufpend : the hofts obey'd.

EPIGONIAD, BOOK TIT.

The field no more a noify fcene appears,

"With fteeds and chariots throng'd and glitt'ring

fpears ;

But ftill, and filent : like the hoary deep, When, in their caves, the angry tempefts fleep,

Peaceful and fmooth it fpreads from fhore to

(hore,

Where ftorms had rag'd and billows fwell'd before : Such feem'd the field; the martial clangors ceafej And war tumultuous lulls itfelf to peace.

BOOK IV.

AND now the princes of the Theban ftate In council fat aflembled in the gate, Where rows of marble piliars bound the fpace, To judgment facred in the days of peace. And Creon thus, with public care opprefs'd And private griefs the fenators addrefs'd :

Princes of Thebes, and valiant aids from far, Our firm aflbciates in the works of war, Heroes, attend ! I fliall not now propofe To fupplicate for peace, our haughty foes : No peace can grow, no friendfhip e'er be found, When mutual hate has torn fo wide a wound. Yet for a truce of feven days fpace I plead, And fun'ral obfequies to grace the dead. Nor were it iuft, that they, who greatly fall Prom rage of foes to guard their native wall, Should want the honours which their merits claim, Sepulchral rites deny'd and fun'ral flame.

Thus as he fpoke, parental grief fuppreft His voice, and fwell'd within his lab'ring breaft. Silent amid the aflembled peers he ftands ; And wipes his falling taars with trembling hands; For great Leophron, once his country's boaft, The glory and the bulwark of her hoft, Pierc'd by a foe and lifelefs on the plain, JLay drench'd in gore and mix'd with vulgar flain: Silent he flood; the Theban lords around His grief partake, in ftreams of lorrow drown'd ; Till (age Palantes rofe, and to the reft. The monarch fecanding, his words addreft.

Princes ! reriown'd tor wifdom and for might, Rever'd in council, and approv'd in fight ; What Creon moves the laws themfelves require, With obfequie* to grace, and funeral fire, Each warrior, who in battle bravely falls From rage of foes to guard his native walls. If all approve, and none will fure withftand What Creon counfels and the laws command, Charg'd with the truce, Apollo's prieft (hall go To offer and conclude it with the foe. His filver hairs a mild refpecl; may claim, And great Apollo's ever honour'd name. The reft aflent. The venerable man, Slow from his feat aiifing, thus began: [hand Princes of Thebes! and thou, whofe fov'reign Sways the dread fceptre of fuprerae command ; Though well I might this perilous ta(k refuie, And j,lead my feeble age a juft excufe ; Yet nothing (hall reftrain me, for I go, Pleab'd uith the pious charge, to meet the foe. Willing I go; our bleeding warriors claim Sepu Ichral honours and the fun'ral flame. If all approve, let Clytophon attend ; With jail fuccefs our labours thus fliall end \

For fure no Theban boafts an equal (kill. With pleafing words to bend the fixed will.

Sooth'd with the friendly praife, the hero faid, No felf- regard mail hold me or difluade ; The pious charge my inmoft thoughts approve, He faid ; and flow through yielding crowds they

move ;

While Thebes on every fide aflembled (lands. And fupplicates the gods with lifted hands : O grant that wrathful enemies may fpare Thefe rev'rend heads, nor wrong the filverhair!

And now they pafs'd the lofty gates, and came Where flow Ifmenus winds his gentle ftream ; Amphion's grove they pafs'd, whofe umbrage His' rural tomb'defends on every fide! [wide

The fcene of fight they reuch'd, and fpacious fields With mangled daughter heap'd, and fpears and

(hields.

Under theii feet the hollow bucklers found ; And fplinter'd faulchionsglitter'd on the ground. And now the ftations of the amp appear, Far as a (haft cart wound the flying deer. Thither, amid the wrecks of war, they go Witji Client fteps, and 'fcape the watchful foe. Now full in view before the gmrds they (rand ; The prieft displays hisenfigns in his hand, The laurel wreath, the gold-befpangled rod With ftars adorn'd the fymbols of his god.

He thus began : ye Argive warriors ! hear: A peaceful meflage to your tents we bear : A Juice is afk'd, till the revolving fun, Seven times from eaft to weft his journey run, Again afcends ; and, from the ocean's ftreams, Crowns the green mountains with his golden beams: Tnat mutually fecure, with pious cara, Both hofts funereal honours may prepare For every hero, whom the raging fight Has fwept to darknefs and the (hores of night.

Thus as he fpoke, the lilt'ning warriors heard With approbation, and the prieft rever'd, The chief of Salamis, their leader, went Hfmfelf to guide them to the royal tent ; [n.'ght Which (hone confpicuous ; through the ihades of Its fpacious portal pour'd a ftreacn of light. Thither conducted by the chief they found The king of men with all his peers around. On thrones with purple fpread each royal gjieft In order fat, and ihar'd the genial feaft. Silent they enter'd. From his chair of ftate, Full in the mid.i oppofed to the -ate. The monarch faw; and rifm^ thus exprefl The gen'rous dictates of his r y;<' h:eair.

My g.jefts, ar.-proach ! no ciu- Thisroof protects you, ftrai^!-- B nj

THE WORKS OF WILK.IE.

pv'n though from yon devoted walls you come, For vengeance mark'd by fate's eternal doom; Here in my tent, with fafety you fliall reft, And with the princes fhare the genial feaft. You freely then your meffage may propofe, When round -the board the cheering vintage flows, "Which foothes impatience, and the open'd ear, With favour and attention bends to hear.

The hero thus. Apollo's prieft replies : Humane thy manners, and thy words are wife ; With'thee the nobleft gifts the godsJiave plac'd, And pow'r fupreme with equal wifdom grac'd : Though oft, b.y parts, for others they ordain, The arts of fway, the privilege to reign ; In thee their partial favour has combin'd The higheft fortune with the greateft mind.

As thus the fage reply'd, the princely band By turns prefented each his friendly hand, The fign of peace. iFor each a fplendid throne, Where fring'dwith gold the purple covering' ilione, The ready waiters, by command, prepar'fi ;. There fat the envoys and the banquet fhar'd. On ev'ry fide the fparkling vintage flows, The momentary cure of human woes. The rage of thirft and hunger thus fuppreft, To Neftor turning, Clytophon addrefs'd,

Illuftrious chief! an honour now I'll claim, Which not to publifli, fure, would merit blame. Your father's gueft I was ; by fortune led, When from Trinacria's defert mores I fled With ills befet : but in his friendly land, His gen'rous heart I prov'd and lib'ral hand. 'A grateful mind excites me to reveal His fov'reign bounty, and attempt a tale Of dear remembrance. But the fond deflgn Prudence diflenting, warns me to decline : For when to public cares your thoughts you bend A private ftory mingled muft offend.

The artful Theban thus. The chief reply'd, "Whofe fov'reign mandates all the hoft qbey'd : My honour'd gueft ! proceed, nor aught conceal Which gratitude enjoins you to reveal: For gen'rous deeds, improperly fuppreft, Lie unapplauded in the grateful breaft ; And now the feaft, fhort inierval of care^, '"''',' " To vocal fymphony uubends the ear ; Or fweet difcourfe, which to the foul conveys Sublimer joys than mufic's tuneful lays. The monarch thus. The prudent fage fupprefs'd, His inward joy, and thus the peers addrefs'd : ' Each chief he ftrove to gain, but Neftor moft, Whofe wifdom fway'd the councils of the hoft.

Confed 'rate kings! and thouwhofe fov'reign hand Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command, Attend and hearken ! fince you feek to know The fad beginnings of a life of \voe. In Rhodes my father once dominion claim'd, Orfilochus, for deeds of valour fam'd, The Sporades his fov'reign fceptre own'd, And Carpa rhus x^rth waving forefts crown'd. His youngeft hope I was, and fcarce had feen The* tenth returning (urhmer clothe the green, When pirates fnatch me from my native land: While with nry iiifaftt equals on the ftrand J play'd, of harm fecure, and from the deep With' pleafurefa\v approach the fat;il fliip ; Eleas'd with the whitenefs of the fails we^ftood, - And the red ftreamess fluning on the flood :

And fearlefs faw the hoftile galley land, Where from the hills a current feeks the ftraml. They climb'd the rocky beach, and far around, Intent on fpoil and rapine, view'd the ground ; If any herd were near, or fleecy ftore, Or lonely manfion on the winding fliore. My young companions ftraight their fear obey. I, bold and unfufpecling, dar'd to ftay. Me ftraight they feiz'd : and doom'd to fervile toi A wretched captive in a foreign foil. Struggling in vain, they bore me down the bay. Where, anehor'd near the beach, their veflel lay And plac'd me on the deck. With bitter cries, To fpeeding gales I faw the canvafs rife : The boundiefs ocean far before me fpread ; And from my reach the fliores at diftance fled. All day I wept ; but when the fetting light Retir'd, and yielded to the fhades of night, Sleep ftole upon my grief with foft furprife, Which care 'ne'er banifh'd long from infant eyes.

Nine days we fail'd ; the tenth returning ray Shovv'd us Trinacria rifing in our way, Far in the 1 weft ; where, with hisev'ning beams, The fun defcending gilds the ocean's ftreams. Thither the failors ply, and blindly run On hidden datigers which they ought to fliun ; For whom the gods diftinguiih'd by their hate, They firft confound, and then refign to fate. Ajl day we fail'd ; and with the evening hour, Which calls the mepherd to his rural bow'r, Approach'd the fhore. The forefts on the land We mark'd, and rivers op'ning from the ftrand. Then gladnefs touch'd my heart ; the firft I knew Since fate had mix'd me with that lawlefs crew : With joy I faw the rifing fliores appear, And hop'd to find fome kind deliverer near; Some gen'rous lord, to whom I might relate, Low bending on my knees, my wretched fate. Vain was the hope ; the Cyclopes ne'er know Compafiion, not to- melt at human woe.

Near on the left, and where the parted tides A promontory's rocky height divides, A bay they found ; and on the fatal ftrand Defcending, fiVd their veflel to the land. They valleys ftraight and mountains they explore, And the long windings of the defert fhore ; And find, of flieep and goats, a mingled flock, Under the flicker of a cavern'd rock. The largeft and the beft the pirate band Seiz'd, and prepar'd a bancmet on the ftrand. With joy they feafted ; while the goblet, crown'd With Mhhymnean vintage, flow'd around. Of harm fecure they fat ; and void of fear To mirth reiign'd ; nor knew deftruclion near.

Amid them there I meditating fat ; Some god ijifpir'd me, or the power of fate, To '(cape their hated hands: and foon I Tound The wifh'd occafion ; when along the ground, Each where he fat, the ruffian* lay fuuine, With fk j ep opprefs'd, and fenfe-fubduing wine ; Softly I rofe, and to a lofty grove, Which (haded all the mountain tops above, Aft-ending, in a rocky Cavorn lay, Till darknas fle-d becbre the morning ray. Then from above I faw the pirate band, In parties, roaming o'er the drlart ftrand ; The mountain-goat"; t icy drove, and fleecy ftor*, From all the paftures, crowded to the ftiore.

EPIGONIAD, Book IV.

Me too by name they call'd ; and oft, in vain, Explor'd each grove and thicket on the plain ; While from above I faw, with carelefs eye, Them fearching round and lift'ning for reply. Some to the fliip the bleating fpoil convey'd ; While others to prepare a banquet ftay'd, And call'd their mates : to (hare the full repaft With mirth they came, nor knew it was their laft.

Then from the rocky fummit where I lay, A flock appeared defcending to the bay j Which through a narrow valley ruuVd along f Oxen and fheep, an undiltinguifh'd throng. With thefe the floping hills were cover'd o'er, And the long windings of the fandy fliore. Behind a Cyclops came ; and, by degrees, Rofe to my view, and tower'd above the trees. His giant ftature, like a lofty rock, Appear'd : and in his hand a knotted oak Of talleft growth ; around his flioulder flung His bag enormous, by a cable hung. Panting I lay ; as when a lurking deer. From fome clofe thicket, fees the hunter near. By dread fubdu'd, confounded and amaz'd, My fixed eye-balls darken'd as I gaz'd. Soon from above my wretched mates he knew, As on the level fliore in open view, They fat fecure, with flow'ry garlands crovvn'd ; The figns of fpoil and ravage fcatter'd round'. With indignation, for his wafted flock, Inflarri'd he thus like diftant thunder fpoke. Whoe'er thefe are, who from their native foil To foreign climates thus, in queft of fpoil, Licentious roam ; they foon fliall feel my hand, And rue that e'er they touch'd Trin'acria's ftrand. As mutt'ring thus, along the craggy road He came, the mountain trembled as he trod. The wretches faw with honor and affright ; Each limb enfeebled loit the power of flight. Their cries in vain the monfter mov'd to fpare ; His club he rear'd and fwung it thrice in air, Then hurld it crofs the bay : it fwit'tly drove O'et the fmooth deep, and raz'd the beach above. Threat'ning it rufh'd along ; but, bending low. Each, where he fat, efcap'd the weighty blow. Beyond them far.it pitch'd upon the land, Tore the green fvvard, and heav'd a mount of fand. Now itarting from the ground they ft'rove to tly, Prefs'd by defpair and Itfong neceffity ; The woody fummits of the cliffs to gain, With fault'ring halte they fled aero ft the plain. But the impending mountains barr'd their flight, High and projecting from their airy height, Back from the flipp'ry arch, in heaps, they fall ; Arid with imploring cries for mercy call, In vain. The montter with gigantic (hides, At twenty fteps, the fpacious bay divides ; Around his knees the whit'ning billows roar, And his rude voice like thunder fliakes the fliore.

There thrrty youths he flew ; againft the (tones And ragged cliffs he dafli'd their crackling bones. Twenty his feet and heavy hands purfue, As to the ocean in defpair they flew ; Striving the fummit of the beach to gain, With headlong courfe to rum into the main: For there they hop'd a milder fate to have, And lefs abhorr'd, beneath the whelming wave. Thefe too he reach'd ; and, with his weighty hand, Their flight opprefs'd, and'mix'd them with theland. 6

Two yet furviv'd ; who fupplicating With humble fuit, his barb'rous foul to move. With trembling knees t lie fandy beach they prefi'd ; And, as he came, the monfter thus addrefs'd :

O thou ! with whom no mortal can compare For ftrength refiftlefs, pity now and fpare. O let the blood, already flied, atone, For our provoking guilt, and trefpafs done ! O fpare and pity ! iure, the gods above, Who fit around the ftarry throne of Jove, Are won by pray'r; and he whofe matchlefsjiught The folid earth fuftains and ftarry height, Oft fparcs the guilty ; for his foul approves Compaflion, and the works of mercy lovef. Let ibv'reign pity touch thy mighty breaft ; And him revere, the greateft and the beft : Who pardons oft, but meafures grief and pain To fuch as hear the wretched plead in vain.

As thus to touch his iron heart they try'd, The Cyclops fmiling, fcornful thus reply'd : The praife of mercy well your words proclaim ; And vengeance mark, though merited, with blame. Well have youfpoken ; therefore, from my hand, More favour hope than any of your band j. They, on the defert fliore expos'd and bare, The wolves fliall feaft and ev'ry bird of air ; But ye, prefer'd above the reft, (hall have This body for your monument and grave. '.,'.

He faid, and feizing lifts them both on high, With hands and feet extended in the fky ; Then dafli'd them thrice againft the rocky fliore ; Gnaw'd their warm fleih, and drank their dream ing gore. . ^ Oft have I feen the havoc of the plain, The rage of tempefts and the ftormy main But fate, in fuch a form, ne'er meet my eyes, And, while I fpeak, afrefli its horrors rife To chill my veins j nor can the vary'd ftate Of fprightly youth, and middle age fedate, Or life's laft ftage with all its griefs oppreft, Banifli the dire impreflion from my breaft. For (till I fee the monfter, as he flood, His hairy vifage dy'd in human blood: As the grim lion leaves the waftecl plains, Red from the ravage of the flocks and fwains.

With vengeance pleas'd he view'd the fliores

around ;

And, riding near the beech, our veflel found : Her by the mall he feiz'd ; and to the land, With all her anchors, dragged along the ftrand. Exploring, next the folid deck he tore, And found, conceal'd below, his fleecy (lore. With fcornful fmiles he faw the theft bewray'd ; And iidelong on the beach the galley laid ; And call'd his flock : to open light they (train, Through the wide beach, and crowd upon the plain : Still, as they pafs'd, his weighty hand he laid On their (oft backs, and, Itroaking gently, faid : Go now, my flock ! enjoy the verdant hills, The rivers cool, the fweet refrefliipg rills, The meads and fhady forefts, fafe from harm ; Your foes lie crufli'd beneath your mafter's arm. The giant thus ; and next the hold explored : Four jars he found with Lelbian vintage ftor'd. Thefe firft he drain'd ; then to his lips apply 'i His flute, which like a quiver by, his iide, Of fize enormous, hung. Ifs hollow found The woods repeated and the caves around,

THE WORKS OF WILLIE.

Its mufic fuch, as when a ftormy gale

Koars through a hollow cliff with hideous peal,

Rebounding deep, along the level Ihore :

tie ply'd, and drove his paft'ring (Jock before.

Horror an,d grief at once my heart affaii'd ; Prefaces fad o'er ev'ry hope prevail'd. My d;ftant country rufh'd upon my mind; My friends, my weeping parents, left behind. Now loft to hope, and furious from despair. With both my hands I rent my rooted hair ; And in an agony of forrow preft, With ftrokes repeated oft, my heaving bread. All day I mourn'd ; but when the fetting ray Jletir'd, and ev'ning lhades expell'd the day ; Encourag'd by the night, I fought the plain ; And, wand'ring anxious 'midft the mangled flam Oft call'd, to know' if any of the band JDid yet furvive, efcap'd the monfter's hand ; But none reply'd. Along the defert fhore All night I wander'd, 'midft the fullen roar Of burfting billows ; till the morning ray Appear'd. to light my folitary way. 'Twas then I reach'd a mountain's height, o'er-

fpread

With thickets ciofe, and dark impending fliade, Hung o'er the valley, where a river leads His wand'ring current through a grove of reeds.

Thuher'I went ; and, op'ning tb the deep, A Cavern found beneath the rocky fteep ; The haunt of mountain goats,, when wint'ry rains Have chased them from the hills and naHed plains. Gladly I enter'd ; for, deceiv'd by fear, I always thought the barb'rous Cyclops near ; His form defcry'd in ev'ry tree behind, And heard his voice approaching in the wind. Of honey there a fweet repali I found, Jn clufters hanging from the cliffs around, My hunger foon appeas'd, the gentle pow'r. Of fleep fubdu'd the till the ev'ning hour. 'Twas then I wak'd ; and to the deep below, [flow ; Through thickets, 'creep' d with careful fteps and And gaz'd around if any hut wer there, Or folitary wretch my grief to fliare : But none appear'd. I climbM a mountain's head Where, wide before me, lay the ocean fpread, ; " And there no objedl met my wifhing eyes, But billows bounded by the fetting fkies. Yet ftill Igaz'd, till'night's prevailing fway Extinguish 'd, in the weft, the evening ray. Hopelefs and fad, defcending from my ftahd, 1 wander'd on the folitary ftrand, Through the thick gloom ; and 'heard the fullen

rpar Of billows burfting on the defert fhore,

Thus ten long years I liv'd, conceal' d by day, Under a rock on wither'd leaves I lay ; . At dawn and twilight on the mountains flood, Exploring with my eyes the pathlefs flood;' Impatient till forne friendly fail fhould come, To waft me to m> fire and native home ; But r.dne appear'd "' The pilqts fhun the fhores "Where ^tna'fiames and dire Charibdis roars ; And where the curs'd Cyclopean brothers reign, The lonely tyrants of the defert plain. Prefs'd by defpair, at laft I dar'd to b'rave, Ev'n in a'fkiff, the terror* of the wave j Contemning all the perils in my way, For worfe it feem'd than death itfelf to ftay,

Of oziers foft the bending hull I wave; And ply'd the (kins of mountain goats above. A (lender fir, ten cubit lengths, I found Fall'n from a mouldering bank, and ftript it round. This for the maft, with bulrafh ropes I ty'd; A pole to fteer the rudder's ufe fupply'd : Four goat-fkins jqin'd I fitted for the fail, And fpread it with a pole to catch the gale. Each chink with gum againft the brine, I clos'd: And the whole work beneath a ihade difposM, Where, from, the hills defcending to the main, A winding current cuts the fandy plain. Nuts and dry'd figs in balkets next I lhar'd ; And liquid llores in bags of Jkin prepar' turning where conceaPd my veflel lay, The rope I loos'd, and pufh'd her to the bay ; The fail unfurl'd, and, fleering from the Behind me left with joy the hated land.

All night, by breezes fped, the prow divides The deep and o'er the billows lightly glides. But when the dawn, prevailing o'er the night, Had ting'd the glowing eaft with purple light> The air was hufh'd : deferted by the gale, Loofe^to the maft defcends the empty fail. And full againft my courfe a current came, Which hurl'd me backwards, floating on its ftreanj. Towards the land. 1 faw the fliores draw near ; And the long billows on the beach appear. The cruel Cyclops ,fpy'd me as he drove His paft'ring flock along the hills above ; And winding through the groves hisfecret way, ConceaPd behind a promontory lay ; Prepar'd to fnatch me, when his arm could reach My fkiff, which drove ungovern'd to the beach. I mark'd his purpofe ; furious from defpair, With both my hands I rent my rooted hair ; And on the poop with defp'rate purpofe flood, Prepar'd to plunge into the whelming flood. But Neptune fav'd me in that perilous hour j The headlong current felt his prefent pow'r : Back from the fhore it turn'd, at his command. And bore me joyful from the fatal ftrand. The Cyclops vex'd 5 as when fome fowler fpies,. Safe from his coyer'd fnares the quarry rife : His feat forfook, arid, leaning o'ef the fteep, Strove with foft words to lure me, from the deep. Stranger, approach ! nor fly this friendly ftrand j Share the free blefllngs of a happy land : Here, from each cliff, a ftream of honey flows ; And ev'ry hill with purple vintage glows. Approach ; your fear forget ; my bounty fliare ; My kindnefs prove and hofpitable care. As to allure me thus the inontter try'd, His fraud I knew ; and rafhly thus reply'd : Talk not of friendfhip ; well I know the doom Of fitch as to your dire dominions come. Thefe eyes beheld when, with a ruthlefs hand, My wretched mates you njnvder'd on the ftran4

EPIGONIAD, BOOK IV.

Two fu'd for mercy ; but their limbs you tore With brutal rage, and drank their ftreaming gore. If heavVs dread Sovereign to my vengeful hand His wafting flames would yield, and forked brand, Scorch'd on the cliffs, your giant limbs mould feed The mountain wolves, and all the rav'nous breed.

I faid ; and from the fouth a rifing breeze Brufli'd the thick woods, andfwept the curling feas. Above the waves my veiTel lightly flew ; The ocean widen'd, and the fhores withdrew. Enrag'd the Cyclops, rufhing down the fteep, Eager to fnatch me, plung'd into the deep : My flight he followed with gigantic ftrides, And ftem'd with both his knees the rufliing- tides. Soon had I perifh'd, but efcap'd again, Protected by the god who rules the main. He fent a fpectre from his wat'ry caves ; Like mift it rofe, and hover'd o'er the waves. A Ikiff like mine, by art divine, it grew ; And to the left acrofs the ocean flew. With courfe divided, where the pilot fpies Amid the deep two defert iflands rife, In fhape like altars, fo by failors nam'd, A mark fot pilots, elfe for nothing fam'd ; The angry giant doubting flood, nor knew Which to forfake, the fhadow or the true : For both feem'd equal. By the fates mifled, Jfe thas'd the airy image as it fled : Nor reach'd it : for it led him through the main, As the bright rainbow mocks fome fimple fwain ; Who ftill intent to catch it where it ftands, And grafp the fhming meteor with his hands, Along the dewy meadows holds his way ; But Itill before him flies the coloured ray. The Cyclops fo, along the wat'ry plain, The fljadowy phantom chas'd, and chas'd in vain ; The billows burfted on his hairy fides, And far behind him rufh'd the parted tides. Diflblv'd at latt, its airy ftrudlure broke, And vanifh'd hov'ring like a cloud of fmoke. His error then, and my elcape he knew ; For, favonr'd by the breeze, my vefTel flew Far to the deep : yet plunging in the \vaves, Torn from its bed a pond'rous rock he heaves, Craggy and black, with dangling fea-weed hung ; Pulh'd from his hand the weighty mafs he flung, To cruih my flight : along the ethereal plain It roll'd, and thund'nng downwards ihook the

main.

Behind it fell ; and farther from the fliore, Hurl'd on the mounting waves, my veflel bore Towards the deep. The giant faw with pain, His fraud detected, force eflay'd in vain. He curs'd the partial pow'rs, and lafli'd on high, With both his hands, the ocean to the fky.

Now fafe beyond his reach, a profp'rous gale Blew frefli behind, and ftretch'd my flying fail : The ftiores retir'd ; but, from the diftant main, J faw him towering on the watery plain, Like a tail fliip ; and moving to the fliore. Sullen and fad, to tend his fleecy (tore. Seven days I fail'd ; the eighth returning light The Pylian fhores prefented to my fight, Far in the eaft ; and where the fun difplays, Along the glitt'ring waves, his early rays. Thither I fteer'd, and where a point divides xteuded in the deep, the parted tides,

A fane I mark'd ; whofe tow'ring fuittrmt, reat'd High in the air, with gilded fpires appear'o% Te Neptune facred on the beach it ftands, Confprcuous from the fea and diftant lands. Aflembled on the fliore the people ftood, On ev'ry fide extended, like a wood : And in the midtt 1 faw a pillar rife, Of facred fmoke, afcending to the fkies. 'Twas there I reach'd the hofpitable ftrand, And, joyful, fiVd my veflel to the land.

There, with his peers, your royal fire I found ; And fell before him proltrate on the ground, Imploring aid ; my lineage I reveal'd, Nor aught of all my tedious toils conceaPd. Attentive, as I fpoke, the hero heard, Nor credulous nor diffident appear'd ; For prudence taught him, neither to receive With eafy faith, or rafhly disbelieve.

O fon of Neleus ! though you juftly claim, For eloquence and Ikill, fuperior fame ; Yet to an equal glory ne'er afpire : Vain were the hope to emulate your fire. Eight days we feafted : ftill the flowing bowl Return'd, and fweet difcourfe, to glad the foul, With pleafure heard ; as comes the found of raid. In fummer's drought, to cheer the careful fwain. And when the ninth returning morn arofe, Sixty bold mariners the hero chofe, SkilFd, through the deep, the flying keel to guide, And fweep, with equal oars, the hoary tide : They trimm'd a velfel, by their lord's cOmmar.d, To waft me to my fire and native land. With gifts enrich'd of robes and precious ore, He fent me joyful from the Pylian more. Such Neleus was ! and fuch his matchlefs praife For hofpitable deeds in former days ; The friend, the patron, deftin'd to redrefs The wrongs of fate, and comfort my diftrefs.

Hut what is man ! a reptile of the earth ; To toils fuccefllve fated from his birth ; Few are our joys } in long fucceftlon flow Our griefs ; we number all our days in woe. Misfortune enter'd with my infant years ; My feeble age a load of forrow bears. Driv'n from my country by donveftic foes, Thebes but receiv'd me to partake her woes. The fword I've feen, and wide devouring fire, Againft her twice in fatal league confpire. The public griefs, which ev'ry heart mufl (hare, By nature taught to feel another's care, Augment my own : our matrons weeping (land; Our rev'rend elders mourn a ruin'd land : Their furrow 'd cheeks with ftireams of forrow flow; And wailing orphans fwell the gen'ral woe ; They mourn their deareft hopes, in battle flain, Whofe limbs, unbury'd, load their native plain; And now by us entreat that war may ceafe, And, for feven days fuccefllve, yield to peace : That mutually fecure, with -pious care, Both holts funereal honours joiay prepare For ev'ry warrior, whom the rage of fight Has fwept to darknefs and the coafts of night. To ratify the truce, if ye approve, We come alike commiffion'd, as to move.

Thus Clytophon ; and he, whofe fov'reign

fway The warriors of the Pylian nice obey,

THE WORKS OF- WILKIE.

Neftor, his partial favour thus exprefs'd ; And to the Theban c^iief himfelf addrefs'd : The truth you fpeak, nor do your words appear Prepar'd with art, or dictated by fear ; For what you tell, my memory recals, When young I faw you at my native walls, Yourfelf a youth: though now a length of years, Imprinted deep, in all your form appears ; Yet ftill, with fure remembrance, can I trace Your voice the fame and lineaments of face. An infant then upon your knees 1 hung, And catch'd the pleafing wonders from your

tongue :

Your woes I pity'd, as I pity ftill ; And, were the chiefs determin'd by my will, The truce mould ftand : for piety confpires With juftice, to demand what Thebes requires.

The hero thus ; the king of men replies : Princes, in fight approv'd, in council wife ! What Thebes propounds, 'tis yours alone te choofe, Whether ye will accept" it, or refufe : For though your votes confentifig, in my hand Have plac'd the fceptre of fupreme command ; Yet ftill my pow'r, obedient to my choice, Shall with its fanction join the public voice.

The monarch thus ; and thus the chief reply'd, Whom fair ^Etolia's martial fons obey'd : Princes, attend ! and thou, whofe fov'reign hand Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command 1 What Thebes requires, I do not now oppofe, Becaufe, infenfible te human woes, The widow's tears I fcorn, the mother's fighs, The groans of lifters, or the orphan's cries, Whofe deareft hopes, in rage of battle flain, With wounds defac'd, lie fcatter'd on the plain : Compaffion for the hoft, which fruitiefs toil So long has wafted in a foreign foil, What Thebes propounds, impels me to difluade, And for the Irving, difregard the dead. How long has war and famine thinn'd our pow'rs, Inactive camp'd around the Theban tow'rs ? And peftilence, whofe dire infection flies, Blown by the furies through the tainted flues ? Many now wander on the Stygian ihore, Whom fires and conforts fliall behold no more : And many ftill, who yet enjoy the day, ]Muft follow down the dark Tartarean way, If, blinded by the fates, our counfels bar The courfe of conqueft, and protract the war. Since equity and public right demands That Thebes (hould fall by our avenging hands, Now let us combat, till the gods above, Who fit around the ftarry throne of Jove, The judges of the nations, crown our toil, So long endur'd, with victory and fpoil ; Or deftine us to fall in glorious fight, Elate and dauntlefs in the caufe of right. Shall we delay till dire infection fpreads Her raven wings o'er our devoted heads ? Till gen'rous wrath, by flow difeaie fuppreft, Expires inactive in the warrior's breaft, And life, the price of glory, paid in vain, Who die forgotten on a foreign plain.

Tydides thus ; and he, whofe fovereign fway The warriors of the Pylian race obey, Neftor reply'd, for eloquence approv'd, JJy Pallas and the tuneful filters lov'd ;

Confed'rate kings ! and thou, whofe fov'reigm

hand

Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command, With patience hear the reafons which I plead For funeral rites, the honours of the dead. Well have you heard the various ills that wait On ftrife prolong'd, and war's difaftrous ftate $ And they who choofe to dwell amid alarms, The rage of (laughter and the din of arms, Know litlk of the joys, when combats ceafe, That crown with milder blifs the hours of peace. Though gladly would I fee, in vengeance juft, The Theban tow'rs confounded with the duft ; That from the war releas'd, we might again Each (hare the pleafures of his native reign : Yet let us not prefumptuoufly withftand What piety alike and right command, The honours of the dead : nor tempt the gods To curfe our labours, from their bright abodes Far in the heav'ns, above this mortal fcene, In botindlefs light, the thund'rer (its ferene ; He views the works of men : the good he knows. And on their juft attempts fuccefs beftows; But Wafts impiety, and mocks its aim, With difappointment fure, and lafting fharae.

Attend, ye princes 1 and I fliall untold What fage Harmodius taught my-fire of old. The Locri fummon'd all their martial pow'rs. And fought around the Orchomenian tow'rs. From oxen feiz'd began the dire debate ; And wide and waftelul was the work of fate. The Orchomenians oft a truce propos'd For fun'ral rites; the Locrian chiefs oppos'd. Nine days expir'd, the bleeding warriors lay ; Their wounds hot dreaming to the folar ray. From Styx's fable fhore their ghofts implor'd, With fuppliant cries, hell's dread avenging lord* He heard, and from the gloomy deep below Of Erebus profound, the houfe of woe, A fury fent, the fierceft of the crew, Whofe iron fcourges human crimes purfue: Difcord her name ; among th' infernal gods She dwells, excluded from the bleft abodes; Though oft on earth (he rears her baleful hea'd, To kindle ftrife, and make the nations bleed. The fury came ; and, hov'ring o'er the plain Devoted with her eyes the Locrian train. In form a raven, to a tow'r (he flew, Which rofe upon a precipice in view, And on the airy fummit took her feat, With potent charms, to kindle dire debate. The howling dogs her prefence firft declare ; The war horfe trembling fnorts aloft in air; On man at laft the dire infection fell, The awful vengeance of the pow'rs of hell. Confufion ftraight through all the camp is found ^ The wand'ring centinel deferts his ground, Fatally gay and crown 'd with every weed, Which weeping matrons fcatter o'er the dead; Of dire portent : but when the filent reign Of night pofleis'd the mountains and the plain, Above the camp her torch the fury rear'd, Red, in the air, its baleful flame appear'd. Kindling debate : outrageous it rife arofe, Loud as the ocean when a tempeft blows, O'er all the plain, and (tun'd the ear of night With Ihouts tumultuous and the din of fighu

EPIGONIAD, BOOK IV.

Down from her airy.ftand the goddefs came, Shet like a meteor, with a ftream of flame, To kindle fiercer ftrife with ftronger charms, To fwell the tumult and the rage of arms. The combat burn'd ; the Orchomenians heard With horror, nor beyond their wails appear 'd, By awe divine reftrain'd : but when the light Return'd fucceflive on the fteps of night, From ev'ry tow'r they faw the fpacious plain With havoc heap'd, and mountains of the flain. The fecret caufe the augurs firft declar'd ; The juftice of the gods they own'd and fear'd. No fun'ral rite the Orchomenian ftate On them beftow'd, the vulgar or the great ; In one deep pit, whofe mouth extended wide Four hundred cubit length from fide to fide, They whelm'd them all ; their bucklers and their

fpears,

The ftecds, the chariots, and the charioteers, .One ruin mix'd; for fo the will of Jove The priefts declar'd : and heap'd a mount above : Such was the fate, by heav'nand hell decreed, Topunifh bold contemners of the dead. And let not us their fatal wrath provoke, Nor merit by our guilt an equal ftroke ; But feal the truce, and pioufly beftow What to the reliqucs of the dead we owe.

He faid ; the peers their joint aflent declare, The dead to honour, and the gods revere. The king of men commands a herald ftraight The priefts to call, and haften ev'ry rite. While thus the fov'reign mandate they obey'd, Th' ./Ktolian leader rofe, and frowning faid:

O blind to truth ! and fated to fuftain A length of woes, and tedious toils in vain ! By founds deceiv'd, as to her fatal den Some vocal forc'refs lures the ftcps of men ; O eloquence ! thou fatal charm ! how few, Guided by thee, their real good purfue ! By thee, our maids, with magic fetters bound,
 * In all decifions, true and falfe confound.

Not the unnumber'd wrecks, which lie along The Syrens' coaft the trophies of their fong, Nor there where Circe from the neighb'ring

deep,

With ftrong inchantments, draws the paffing fhip, Can match thy fpoils : O let me ne'er obey, And follow blindly, as you point the way ! Confed'rate kin?s ! Cnce nothing can oppofe The truce you purpofe with our treach'rous foes, With mifchief pregnant ; I alone am free, Nor thqfe my eyes the fatal rite fhall fee ; Left it be faid, when milchief fhall fucceed, Tydides faw it, and approv'd the deed.

egan : nce now e puc coce approves, with one confenting voice ; ly, with fuperior pride, ungeft, ftill the readieft to decide,

Speaking he grafp'd his fpear and pond'rous fliield; [field,

And mov'd like Mars, when, 'midft th' embattell'd ublime he ftalks to kindle fierce alarms, To fwell the tumult and the rage of arms. uch feem'd the chief: the princes with furprife Turn'd on the king of men, at once their eyes.

He thus began : Since now the public choice The truce a "ydides onl Though youngeft,

Qur gen'ral fenfe condemns ; his haughty foul Muft not the counfels of the hoft controul, Brave though he is : the altars ready ftand ; In order waits the confecrated band ; traight let us feal the truce with blood and wine, And, to atteft it, call the pow'rs divine.

The monarch thus ; Tydides to his tent, Through the ftill hoft, in fullen forrow went. Fix'd in his mind the fatal vifion ftay'd, Snatch'd by invading force his lovely maid; The fraud of Cytherea ; ftill his heart Incefiant anguifh felt, and lafting fmart; And, as a lion, when his fide retains A barbed {haft, the caufe of bitter pains, Growls in fome lonely fhade ; his friends declinM, He breath'd in groans the anguifh of his mind. Now round the flaming hearth th' aflemblr

ftands,

And Thefeus thus invokes with lifted hands: Hear me, ye pow'rs, that rule the realms of light! And ye dread fov' reigns of the (hades of night ! If, till the eighth fucceeding fun difplays, Above the eaftern hills his early rays, Any bold warrior of the Argive bands, Againft a Theban lifts his hoftile hands By us approv'd ; let ev'ry curfe fucceed On me, and all, for perjury decreed. And as by blood our mutual oath we feal, The blood of victims drawn by deathful fteel; So let their blood be fhed, who, fcorning right, Profanely fhall prcfume its ties to flight. Apollo's prieft, for Thebes refum'd the vow, The gods above, invoking, and below, Their vengeance to inflidt, if force, or art, The truce fhould violate on either part.

The rites concluded thus, the king commands Two younger warriors of his native bands A chariot to prepare ; the driver's place Sophronimus aflum'd ; with tardy pace, Afcend the fage ambafladors ; before A lighted torch Afteropaus bore, And led tjie way; the tents, the fields of war, They pafs'd, and at the gate difmifs'd the car.

BOOK V.

SOON as the fun difplay'd his orient ray, And crown'd the mountain tops with early day ; Through ev'ry gate the Theban waniors flow, Unarm 'd, and fearlefs of th' invading foe. As when, in early fpring, the ihepheid fees Rulh from fome hollow rock a flrcarn of bees,

Long in the cliffs, from winter's rage conceal' d, New to the light, and ftrangers to the field ; In compafs wide their mazy flight they fleer, Which wings of balmy zephyrs lightly bear Along the meads, where fome foft river flows, Of forefts, where the flow'ry hawthorn blows ;

tff THE

To tafte tire early fpring tfceir courfe they bend, And lightly with the genial breeze defcend : So o'er the heights and plains the Thebansfpread; Some, 'midft the heaps of flaughter, fought their

dead;

Others wiijh axes to the woods repair'd, Feil'd the thick forefts, and the mountains bar'd.

With like intent the Argive warriors mov'd, By Thefeus led, whom virgin Pallas lov'd. Ten thoufand oxen drew the harnefs'd wains, In droves collected from the neighb'ring plains; Slo'w up the mountains move the heavy wheels, The fteep afcent each groaning axle feels : In ev'ry grove the temper'd axes found ; The thick trees crackle, and the caves refound. Now to the plain the moving woods defcend, Under their weight a thoufand axles bend : And round the camp, and round the Theban

wails, Heaps roll'd on heaps, the mingled foreft falls.

Ot this the Spartan chief, his native bands, With fpeed to rear a lofty pile, commands; Which for Hegialus, with grateful mind, Adraftus' valiant fon, the chief defign'd ; Who to his aid,, when ev'ry warrior fled, &epair'd, and for his refcue greatly bled : His native bands the hero thus addrefs'd, "While fighs inceffant labour'd from his breaft. The chief of Argos, warriors ! firft demands Funereal honours from our grateful hands ; For him this lofty ftructure is decreed, Arid eVry rite in order ihall fucceed : His dear remains in my pavilion reft ; Nor can Adraftus at the rites affift; Who to defpair and frenzy has refign'd, J3y age and grief fubdu'd, his generous mind : The other princes of the army wait The obfequies to grace, with mournful ftate. He faid ; and to his tent the warriors led, Where flood already deck'd the fun'ral bed : With Syrian oil bedew'd, the corfe they found Frefli from the bath, and breathing fragrance

round :

For Menelaus, with divided care, Each rite domeftic haften'd to prepare. Twelve princes to the pile the corfe fuftain'd : The head on Agamemnon's hand reclin'd ; \Vith %riournfuf pomp the flow proteffion mov'd ; For all the hero honour' d and approv'd.

Firft dri the top the fun'ral bed they place; And next, the fad folemnity to grace, And gratify the manes of the flain, The blood of fteeds and bullocks drcnch'd the

plain.

The four fair fteeds which drew the rapid car, That bore the hero through the ranks of war, Their lofty necks the pointed faulchion tore, With force impell'd, and drew a ftre.am of gore : Three groaning fell ; but, fiercer from the

ftroke,

The filver reins the fourth with fury broke, And fled around the field : his fnowy cheft, Was dafh'd with ftreaming blood, and lofty creft. In circles ftill he wheel' d ! at ev'ry round, Still nearer to the pile himfelf he found ; Till drain *d of life, by blood alone fupply'd, Jcft where he felt the blow, he funk, and dy'd.

OF WILKIE.

By awe divine fubdu'd, the warriors fland ; And filent wonder fixes ev'ry band : Till thus Atrides : Sure th' immortal gods, The glorious fynod of the bleft abodes, Approve our rites; the good their favour mare, In death and life the objects of their care-

Atrides thus : and, further to augment The mournful pomp, the martial goddefs went Through all the camp, in Merion's form e-

prefs'd,

And thus aloud the public ear addrefs'd : Warriors and friends ! on yonder lofty pyre, Hegialus expects the fun'ral fire. For fuch high merit, publiq tears mould flow ; And Greece aflembled pour a flood of woe. Now let us all his obfequies attend ; And, with the mournful rites, our forrows blend. Proclaiming thus aloud the goddefs went ; The army heard ; and each forfakes his tent ; Her voice had touch'd their hearts ; they mov'd

along,

Nations and tribes, an undiftinguifh'd throng. Around the pile\the wid'ning circle grows ; As fpreadinjr in fome vale, a deluge flows, By mountain torrents fed, which ftretches wide, And floats the l^vel lands on ev'ry fide. Diftinguifh'd in the midft the princes fland, With fceptres grac'd, the enfigns of command. Atrides, with fuperior grief opprefs'd, Thus to the fire of gods his pray'r addrefs'd.

Bread fov'reign, hear ! whofe unrefifted fway The fates of men and mortal things obey : From thee the virtue of the hero fprings ; Thine is the glory and the pow'r of kings. If e'er by thee, and virgin Pallas, led, To noble deeds this gen'rous youth was bred : If love to men, or piety, poffefs'd, With higheft purpofe, his undaunted breaft ; Command the winds in bolder gufts to rife, Arid bear the flames I kindle to the Ikies.

The hero thus ; and with the fun'ral brand The ftructure touch'd ; afcending from his hand, Spreads the quick blaze : the ruler of the fky Commands ; at once the willing tempefts fly : Rufhing in ftreams invifible, they came, Drove the light fmoke, and rais'd the fheeted

flame.

The favour of the gods the nations own, And, with their joint applaufe, the hero crown. From morn till noon the roaring flames afpire, And fat of victims added feeds the fire ; Then fall their lofty fpires, and, finking low, O'er the pale afhes tremuloufly glow. With wine, the fmoke, and burning; embers lay'd; The bones they glean'd, and to a tomb convey'd Under an oak, which, near the public way, Invites the fwains to ihun the noontide ray.

Now twenty warriors of Atrides' tra..n, Loaded with treafure, brought a harnefs'd wain j Vafes and tripods in bright order plac'd, And fplendid arms with fair devices grac'd : Thefe for the games the Spartan chief decreed, The fun'ral games in honour of the dead. Amid the princes firft a pohfn'd yew, Unbent upon the ground the hero threw, Of work divine ; which Cynthius claim'd before^ And Chiron next upon the mountains bore j

EPIGONIAD, BoosV.

WU fire the third receiv'd it : now it lies, For him who fartheft fhoots, the deftin'd prize.

Heroes, approach ! Atrides thus aloud, Stand forth, diftinguifh'd from the circling crowd, Ye, who, by ikill or manly force, may claim Your rivals to furpafs, and merit fame. This bow, worth twenty oxen, is decreed For him who fartheft fends the winged reed : This bowl, worth eight, lhall be referv'd to grace The man whofe merit holds the fecond place. He fpoke His words the bold Ajaces nr'd ; Crete's valiant monarch to the prize afpir'd ; Teucer for mooting fam'd ; and Merion ftrong, Whofe force enormous dragg'd a bull along ; Prompt to contend, and rais'd with hope, they

flood;

Eaertes' fon the laft forfook the crowd. Tydides too had join'd them, and obtain'd Whatever could by (kill or force be gain'd ; But in his tent, indulging fad defpair, He fat, fubdu'd by heart-confuming care.

Straight in a caique the equal lots were thrown ; Each hero with his name had mark'd his own : Thefe, mix'd with care, the chief of Sparta drew ; Idomeneus the firft he knew : Teucer, with hope infpir'd, the fecond claim'd; The third Oileus, much for (hooting fam'd : Next claim'd the wearer of the fcven-fold fhield, Though young in arms, diftinguifh'd in the field : Ulyffes ! then came next, and, laft of all, Bold Merion with a fmile recciv'd his ball.

Prefs'd with incumbent force, the Cretan lord Strain'd the ftiffbow, and bent it to the cord; Then from the full ftor'd quiver, clofe with art, Wing'd for the aerial flight a pointed dart. Thefeus commands the warriors to divide, Who crowded thick and preis'd on ev'ry fide ; Straight they retire ; as, at the word of Jove, From day's bright face the fcatt'ring clouds re move;

And through the hoft appear' d a fpacious way, Where woods and fields in diftant profpect lay. With force immenfe, the Cretan monarch drew, Strctch'd the tough cord, and ftrain'd the circling

yew,

From his firm gripe the ftarting arrow fprun^, The ftiffbow crack'd,thc twanging cordage lung. Up the light air the hilling weapon flies, Pierces the winds, and ftreams along the fkies : Far to the dirtant plain it fwiftly drove : The hoft ftood wond'ring as it rufh'd above : Defcending there upon a mount it ftood : A depth of foil receiv'd the trembling wood. Applaufe from all, tumultuous fhouts declare, By echoes wafted through the trembling air. Such joy the hero feels, as praife infpires, And co the circle of the kings retires.

The valiant Teucer next receiv'd the bow, And to ..polio thus addrefs'd a vow : Hear me, dread king ! whofe unrefifted fway Controuls the fun, and rules the courfe of day ; Great patron of the bow ! this fhaft impell ; And hecatombs my gratitude lhall tell ; Soon as to Salamis our martial pow'rs Return victorious, from the Theban tow'rs. He faid, and bid the winged arrow fly It pierc'd the winds, and iSvept a length of fky ; I'

In compafs, like the coloured arch, which {nines fcxalted as the fetting fun declines ; From north to fouth it marks th' ethereal fpacc, And woods and mountains fill its wide embrace. Beyond the Cretan fhaft, it reach'd the pkin ; As far before, as now a fhepherd fwain, Hurl'd from a fling, the founding flint can throw, from his young charge, to drive the deadly CJTONV.

Oilean Ajax next the weapon claim'd, For {kill above the reft, and practice fam'd ; But Phoebus, chief and patron of the art, Retarded in its flight the winged dart : For, nor by prayers, nor holy vows, he ftrovci Of grateful facrifice, the god to move. Downwards he turn'u it, where a cedar fair Had mot its fpiring top aloft in air ; Caught in a bough the quiv'ring weapon flood, Nor forc'd a pafiage through the clofing wood.

Ajax the next appear'd upon the plain, With ftrength untaught, and emulous in vain ; With finewy arms the folid yew he bends ; Near and more near approach the doubling ends : ,The arrow fprung ; but erring took its way, Far to the left, where oozy marfhes lay, And groves of reeds; where flow Jfmenus ftrays, And. winds, through thickets green, his wat'rjr

maze.

Abafh'd the youth, with painful fteps, retires; And now Ulyfles to the prize alpires.

In filence thus the prudent warrior pray'd, And, in his heart, addrefled the martial maid : Great queen of arts ! on thee my hopes depend : With favour to thy fuppliant's fuit, attend ! By thee my infant arms were taught to throw The dart with certain aim, and bend the bow : Oft on my little hands, immortal maid I To guide the lhaft, thy mighty hands were laid : Now, goddefs, aid me, while I ftrive for fame ; Wing the fwift weapon, and aflert my claim. He pray'd : the goddefs, at his fuit, defcends ; And prefcnt from th' Olympian courts attends. With force divine his manly limbs Jhe ftrung, The bow he ftrain'd r the llarting arrow fung ; As when the fire of gods, with wrathful hand, Drives the fwift lightning and the forked brand, To wafte the labours of die careful fwains, Confume the mountain flocks, or fcorch the plains; With fudden glare appears the fiery ray ; No thought can trace it through til' ethereal

way :

So fwift thy winged fhaft, Ulyfles ! flew, Nor could the following eye its fpeed purfue. The flight of Teucer's arrow far lurpafs'd, Upon a rural heath it pitch'd at laft, To Ceres built ; where fwains, in early fpring-, With joy were wont their annual gifts to bring; When firft to view, above the funow'd plain, With pleafing verdure, rofe the fpringiug grain. Through all the hoft applauding fhouts refound ; The hifsr:peat them, and the woods around.

The leaded bow bold Merion next afiumes, A fhaft ieiects, and fmooths its purple plumes : He plac'd it on the firing, and bending low, With ail his force collected, ftrain'd the bow. Up the light air the ftarting arrow fprung ; The tougn bow crack'd ; the twanging cordage fung.

THE WORKS OF WILtflE.

Beyond the reach of fight the weapon drove, And towVd amid th' ethereal fpace above : But as it rofe, a heron crofs'd before, Fr6m inland marfhes fleering to the fhore; Under the wing it reach'd her with a wound ; Screaming, fhe wheel'd, then tumbled to the

ground.

And thus the youth : Illuflrious chiefs ! I claim, If not the prize, at leaft fuperior fame : Ungovern d ftrength alone the arrow fends : To hit the mark, the {hooter's art commends. In mirthful mood the hero thus addrefs'd ; And all their favour and applaufe exprefs'd.

Ulyffes ! take the bow, Atrides cries, The filver bowl, brave Teucer ! be thy prize. In ev'ry art, my friends ! you all excel ; And each deferves a prize for {hooting well : For though the firft rewards the victor's claim, Glory ye merit all, and lading fame. He faid ; and pond'ring in his grateful mind, Diftinguifh'd honours for the dead defign'd.

Warriors of Greece*, and valiant aids from far, Our firm affociates in the works of war ! Here from a rock the Theban ftream defcends, And to a lake its filver current fends ; Whofe furface fmooth, unruffled by the breeze, The hills inverted fliows and downward trees : Ye daring youths ! whofe manly limbs divide The mountain furge, and brave the rufhing tide ; All ye, whom hopes of victory infpire, Stand forth diftinguifh'd ; let the crowd retire. This coflly armour {hall the youth obtain, Who comes victorious from the wat'ry plain ; That ifland compafs'd, where the poplar grows, And in the lake its wav'ring image {hows, Who meafuring back the liquid fpace, before Kis rivals, {hall regain the flow'ry fhore. This golden bowl is fix'd the fecond prize, Eftcem'd alike for fafhion and /or fize.

The hero thus : with thirfl of glory fir'd, Crete's valiant monarch to the prize afpir'd ; With Sparta's younger chief ; Ulyfles came ; And brave Clearchus emulous of fame, A wealthy warrior from the Samian fliore, In cattle rich, and heaps of precious ore : Diftinguifh'd in the midft the heroes ftood, Eager to plunge into the fhining flood.

His brother's ardour purpos'd to reftrain, Atrides flrove, and counfell'd thus in vain : Defift, my brother ! fhun th' unequal ftrife ; For late you ftood upon the verge of life : No mortal man his vigour can retain, When flowing wounds have empty'd ev'ry vein. If now you perrfh in the wat'ry way, Grief upon grief fhall cloud this mournful day : Defift, refpect my counfel, and be wife ; Some other Spartan in your place will rife. To change his brother's purpofe, thus he try'd; But nothing mov'd : the gen'rous youth reply'd : Brother ! in vain you urge me to forbear, From love and fond affection prompt to fear ; For firm, as e'er before, my limbs remain, To dafh the fliu'd waves, or fcour the plain.

He faid, and went before. The heroes move To the dark covert of a neighb'ring grove ; Which to the bank its fhady walk extends, WUere mixing with the lake a riv'let ends.

Prompt to contend, their purple robes they loofc? Their figur'd vcfts and gold embroider 'd fhoes ; And through the grove defcending to the ftrand, Along the flow'ry bank in order Sand. As when, in fome fair temple's facred fhrine, A. ftatue ftands, exprefs'd by fkill divine, Apollo's or the herald powr's, who brings [ove's mighty mandates on his airy wings ; The form majeftic awes the bending crowd : in port and ftature fuch, the heroes ftood.

Starting at once, with equal flrokes, they fweep The fmooth expanfe, and {hoot into the deep ; The Cretan chief, exerting all his force, His rivals far furpafs'd, and led the courfe ; Behind Atrides, emulous of fame ; Clearchus next, and laft Ulyfles came. And now they meafur'd back the wat'ry fpace, And faw from far the limits of the race. Ulyfles then with thirft of glory fir'd, The Samian left, and to the prize afpir'd ; Who, emulous, and dreading to be iatt, With equal fpeed the Spartan hero pafs'd. Alarm'd, the Cretan monarch ftrove, with pain, His doubtful hopes of conqueft to maintain ; Exerting ev'ry nerve,, his limbs he ply'd, And wifhing, from afar the fhore defcry'd: For near and nearer ftill Ulyfles preft ; The waves he felt rebounding from his breafl. With equal zeal for victory they ftrove ; When, glidding fudden from the roofs of Jove, Pallas approach d ; behind a cloud conceai'd, Ulyfles only faw her form revcal'd. Majeftic by the hero's fide fhe ftood ; Her fhining fandals prefs'd the trembling flood. She whifper'd foft, as when the weftern breeze Stirs the thick reeds, or {hakes the ruftling trees : Still fhall thy foul, with endlefs thirft of fame, Afpire to victory, in ev'ry game. The honours, which from bones and finews rife, Are lightly valu'd by the good and wife : To envy ftill they roufe the human kind ; And oft, than courted, better far declin'd. To brave Idomeneus yield the race ; Contented to obtain the fecond place. The gcddefs thus : while ftretchine to the land, With joy the Cretan chief approach'd the ftrand ; Ulyfles next arriv'd ; and, fpent with toil, The weary Samian grafp'd the welcome foil. But far behind the Spartan warrior lay,

Fatigu'd, and fainting, in the wat'ry way. Thrice ftruggling, from the lake, his h

head he

rear a ;

And thrice, imploring aid, his voice was heard.

The Cretan monarch haftes the youth to fave,

And Ithacus again divides the wave ;

With force renew'd their manly limbs they ply ;

And from their breaft* the whit'ning billows fly.

Full in the midft a rocky ifle divides

The liquid fpace, anc parts the filver tides ;

Once cultivated, now with thickets green

O'erfpread, two hillocks, and a vale between.

Here dwelt an aged fwain ; his cottage ftood

Under the cliffs, encompafs'd by a wood.

From poverty fecure, he heard afar,

In peace profound, the tumults of the war.

Mending a net before his rural gate,

From other toils repos'd the peafant fat ;

EPIGONIAD, BOOK V.

When firft the voice of Menelaus came, By ev'ning breezes wafted from the firearm Haft'niiig, his IkifF he loos'd, and fpread the fail ; Some prefent god fupply'd a profp'rous gale : For as the Spartan chief, with toil fubdu'd, Hopclefs of life, was finking in the flood ; The fwain approach'd, and in his barge receiv'd Him fafe from danger imminent retriev'd.

Upon a willow's trunk Therfites fat, Contempt and laughter fated to create, Where, bending from a hollow bank it hung, And rooted to the mould'ring furface clung; He faw Atrid'-s fafe : and thus aloud, With leer malign, addrefs'd the lifl'ning crowd. Here on the flow'ry turf a hearth thall ftand ; A hecatomb the fav'ring gods demand, Who fav'd Atrides in this dire debate, And fnatch'd the hero from the jaws of fate : Without his aid we all might quit the field ; Ulyfles, Ajax, and Tydides, yield : His mighty arm alone the hoft defends, But dire difafter ftill the chief attends: Laft fun beheld him vanquim'd on the plain ; Then warriors fav'd him, now a fhepherd fwain. Defend him ftill from perfecuting fate ! Protect the hero who protects the ftate ; In martial conflicts watch with prudent fear, And, when he fwims, let help be always near ! He faid ; and, fcorn and laughter to excite, His features foul he writh'd, with envious fpite, Smiling contempt ; and pleas'd his ranc'rous

heart

With aiming thus oblique a venom'd dart. But ioy'd not long; for foon the faithlefs wood, Strain'd from the root, refign'd him to the flood. Plunging and fputt'ring as his arms he fpread, A load of foil came thund'ring on his head, Slipt from the bank: along the winding fliore, With laughter loud he heard the echoes roar, When from the lake his crooked form he rcar'cl, With horror pale, with blotting clay befmear'd; Then clamb'ring by the trunk, in fad difmay, Which half immers'd with all its branches lay, Confounded, to the tents he flculk'd along, Amid the fhouts and infults of the throng.

Now cloth'd in public view the heroes {land, With fceptres grac'd the enfigns of command* The Cretan monarch, as his prize, aflumes The polifh'd helmet, crown'd with waving plumes, The iilver mail, the buckler's weighty round, Th' embroider'd belt, with golden buckles bound. The fecond prize Laertes' fon receiv'd, With lefs applaufe from multitudes deceiv'd; The firft he could have purchas'd ; but declin'd, And yielded, to the martial maid refign'd.

Thus they. The Thebans, near the eaftern

gate,

Around their pyres in filent forrow wait : Hopelefs and fad they mourn'd their heroes flain, The beft and braved on their native plain. The king himfelf, in deeper forrow, mourn'd ; With rage and mingled grief his bofom burn'd. Like the grim lion, when his offspring flain He fees, and round him drawn the hunter's train ; Couch' d in the (hade with fell intent he lies, And glares upon the foes with burning eyes : Such Creon feem'd : hot indignation drain'd Grief* wat'ry fources, and their flow reftrain'd.

Upon a turret o'er the gate he flood, And faw the Argives, like a fhady wood, Extended wide; and dreading fraud defign'd, Still to the plain his watchful eyes confin d, Sufpicious from his hatred, and the pow'r Of rcftlefs paffions, which his heart devour : And when at ev'n's approach the hoft retir'd, And from the labours of the day refpir'd, Within the walls he drew his martial pow'rs, And kept with ftricteft watch the gates and

tow'rs.

Soon as the night pofTeft th' ethereal plain, And o'er the nations flretch'd her filent reiga, The guards were plac'd, and to the gentle fway Of fleep fubdu'd, the weary warriors lay. Tydides only wak'd, by anxious care Diftracted, ftill he mourn'd his abfent fair, Deeming her loft ; his flighted counfel mov'd Lafting refentment, and the truce approv'd; Contending paffions fhook his mighty frame ; As warring winds impel the ocean's ftream, When fouth and eaft with mingled rage con tend,

And in a tempeft on the deep defcend : Now, ftretch'd upon the couch, fupinc he lay ; Then, riling anxious, wifli'd the morning ray. Impatient thus, at laft, his turbid mind, By various counfels varioufly inclin'd, The chief addreft : Or {hall I now recal Th' ^Etolian warriors from the Theban wall ; Obey the warning by a goddcfs giv'n, Nor flight her counfel dictated from heav'n ? Or ftiall I try, by one deciding blow, The war at once to end, and crufh the foe ? This pleafes mod ; nor fhall the voice of fame The daring deed, in after ages, blame. No truce 1 fvvore, but fhunn'd it, and rcmov'd, Alone diffenting while the reft approv'd. Soon as the morn, with early light reveal' d, Has call'd the Theban warriors to the field ; Againft the town I'll lead my martial pow'rs, And fire with flaming brands her hated tow'rs : The bane of Greece, whence dire debate arofe To bid the peaceful nations firft be foes; Where Tydeus fell, and many heroes more, Banifh'd untimely to the Stygian fhore. The public voice of Greece for vengeance calls; And fhall applaud the ftroke by which flic falls. He purpos'd : but the gods, who honour right, Deny'd to treafon what is due to might.

When from the eaft appear'd the morning fair, The Theban warriors to the woods repair, Fearlefs, unarm'd ; with many a harnefs'd wain, The woody heights were crowded and the plain. Tydides faw ; and, iffuing from his tent, In arms complete, to call his warriors, went. Their leader's martial voice the foldiers heard F.ach in his tent, and at the call appear'd In fhining arms. Deiphobus began, For virtue fam'd, a venerable man. Him Tydeus lov'd ; and in his faithful hand Had plac'd the fccptre of fupreme command, To rule the ftate ; when, from his native tow'rs, To Thebes the hero led his martial pow'rs ; His fon, an infant, to his care refign'd, With fage advice to form his tender mind. The hero thus : Illuftrious chief ! declare What you intend, and whithsr point the war.

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

The truce commenc'd, you cannot, and be juft, The Thebans now afiault, who freely truft To public faith engag'd : unarm'd they go Far through the woods and plains, nor fear a foe.

His leader's purpofe thus the warrior try'd ; And, inly vex'd, Tydides thus reply'd : Father ! thy words from ignorance proceed ; The truce I fwore not, nor appro v'd the deed. The reft are bound, and therefore muft remain JLing'ring inactive on this hoftile plain : The works of war abandon'd, let them fhed Their unavailing forrows o'er the dead : Or aim the dart, or hurl the difk in air ; Some paltry prefents fhall the victor fhare. Warriors we came, in nebler ftrifes to dare; To fight and conquer in the lifts of war ; To conquer Thebes : and Jove himfelf ordains, Wuh wreaths of triumph, to reward our pains. Wide to receive us ftand the Theban gates; A fpacious entry, open'd by the fates, To take deftru&ion in ; their turrets ftand Defencelefs, and expedb the flaming brand. Now let us match thi' occafion while we may, Years wafte in vain, and perifti by delay, That Thebes o'erthrown, our tedious toils may

ceafe, And we behold our native walls in peace.

Tydides thus : the ancient warrior burns With indignation juft, and thus returns : O fon ! unworthy of th' illuftrious li$e From which you fpring : your fire's reproach and

mine !

Did I e'er teach you juftice to difclaim ; And fteal> by treachery, diihoneft fame ? The truce fubiifts with all the reft ; are we Alone excepted, unengag'd and free ? Why, warriors ! do not then thefe hoftile tow'rs, Againil us fend at once their martial pow'rs ? And are we fafe but that the treaty ftands, And from unequal force protects our bands ? In this our foes confide ; the dead they burn, And mix with tears their afhes in the urn. Their tow'rs defencelefs, and their gates un-

barr'd,

Shall we with wrongs their confidence reward ? No ; though each warrior of this num'rous band Should yield to execute what you command ; Yet would not I, obedient to thy will, Blot my long labours with a deed fo ill. Whatever hard or dang'rous you propofe, Though old and weak, I fliun not, nor oppofe : But 'what the gods command us to forbear, The prudent will avoid, the braveft fear. He faid ; and to the ground his buckler flung ; On the hard foil the brazen orbit rung : The reft approving, dropc upon the field His pond'rous jav'lin, each, and mining fhield.

The warlike Ton of Tydeus ftraight refign'd, To dire diforder, all his mighty mind, And fudden wrath ; as when the troubled air, From kindled lightning fhines with fiery glare : With fury fo inflam'd, the hero burn'd, And frowning to Deiphobus return'd : I know thee, wretch! and mark thy conftant

aim,

To teach the hoft their leader thus to blame. JLong have I borne your pride, your reverend age, A guardian's name, fupprefs'd my kindling rage :

But to protect your infolence, no more Shall thefe avail, and fcreen it as before.

He faid ; and more his fury to provoke, Replying thus, the aged warrior fpoke : Vain youth ! unmov'd thy angry threats I hear ; When tyrants threaten, flaves alone fliould fear : To me is ev'ry fervile part unknown, To glory in a fmile, or fear a frown. Your mighty fire 1 kn& v by counfel rul'd ; His fierccft tranfports fooer reafon cool'd. But wild and lawlefs, like the ftormy wind, The fport of paffion, impotent and blind, The defp'rate paths of folly you purfue, And fcorn inftruction with a lofty brow : Yet know, proud prince ! my purpofe I retain, And fee thy thi eat'ning eye-balls roll in vain : Never, obfequious to thy mad command, Againft the foe I lift a hoftile hand ; Till, righteouily fulfill'd, the truce expires Which heav'n has witnefs'd and the facred fires.

He faid ; and, by his fharp reproaches ftung, With fudden hand, his lance the hero flung : Too fure the aim ; his faithful friend it found, And open'd in his fide a deadly wound : Stagg'ring he fell ; and, on the verge of death, In words like thefe refign'd his parting breath : ' O Diomed, my fon ! for thee I fear : Sure heav'n is angry, and its vengeance near: For whoni the gods diftinguifh by their hate, Thermal ves are made the minifters of fate ; For from their fide, the deftin'd victims drive Their friends intent to fuccour and retrieve. Ere yet their vengeance falls, the pow'rs invoke,' While uainflided hangs the fatal ftroke ; And rule the tranfports of your wrath, left fear Make found advice a ftranger. to your ear. Speaking he dy'd ; his gen'rous fpirit fled To mix with heroes in th' Elyfian made.

Amaz'd, at firft, th' ./Etolian warriors flood ; No voice, no adlion, through the wond'ring

crowd;

Silent they flood, like rows of foreft trees, When Jove's dread thunder quells the fummer

breeze :

But foon on ev'ry fide a tumult rofe, Loud as the ocean when a tempeft blows : Diforder wild the mingling ranks confounds, The voice of forrow mix'd with angry founds. On ev'ry fide againft the chief appears A brazen bulwark, rais'd of fhields and fpears, Fail clofing round. But from his thigh he drew His fhining blade, and on the phalanx flew ; With gefture fierce the threat'ning fteel he wav'd j But check'd its fury, and the people fav'd : As the good fhepherd fpares his tender flock, And lightens, when he ftrikes, the falling crook. The crowd dividing, ihunn'd the hero's ire ; As from a lion's rage the fwains retire, When dreadful o'er the mangled prey he ftands, By brandifti'd darts unaw'd and flaming brands.

And now the flame of fudden rage fuppreft, Remorfe and forrow ftung the hero's brcaft. Diilra&ed through the fcattering crowd he went, And fought the dark receffes of his tent ; H? enter'd ; but the menial fervants, bred To wait his coming, ftraight with horror fled. A unil the ground he daiVd his bloody dart; Aid uttsr'd thus the fvvtllings of his hsart ;

EP1GONIAD, BOOK V.

Why fly my warriors ? why the menial train, Who joy'd before to meet me from the plain, "Why fhun they now their lord's approach, nor

bring,

To wafh my bloody hands, the cleanfmg fpring ? Too well, alas ! my fatal rage they know, To them more dreadful now than to the foe ; No enemy, alas ! this fpear has flain'd, With hoftile gore in glorious battle drain'd : My guardian's blood it ihows, whofe hoary hairs Still watch'd my welfare with a father's cares. Thou Pow'r fupreme ! whofe unrefifled fw'ay The fates of men and mortal things obey ! If wife and good, why did thy hand impart So fierce an impulfe to this bounding heart ? By fury rul'd, and impotent of mind, No awe reflrains me, and no tie can bind : Hence, by the madnefs of my rage o'erthrown, My father's friend lies murder'd, and my own. He faid ; and, yielding to his fierce delpair, "With both his hands he rent his rooted hair; And r where his locks in fhining ringlets grew, A load of aihes from the hearth he threw, Rolling in duft : but ndw around the {lain His warriors flood, affembled on the plain; For total infurreelion ripe they flood ; Their angry murmurs rofe to tumult loud.

Ulyfies foon the dire diforder heard, And prefent to explore the caufe appear'd : The hero came, and, 'midft the warriors, found Deiphobus extended on the ground. A flood of forrow flartcd to his eyes, But foon he check'd each fymptom of furprife W ith prudent care, while preiiing round the chief Each ftrove to fpeak the univerfai grief:

! Their mingled fpears in wild diforder fhook, Like the fharp reeds along fome winding brook, When through the leaflefs woods the north wind

blows,

Parent of ice and thick defcending fnows : Now fell revenge had bath'd in flreams of blood, And pow'r in vain her defp'rate courfe with-

ftood :

But Ithacus, well fkill'd in ev'ry art To fix or change each purpofe of the heart, Their ftern decrees by foft perfuafion broke, And anfw'ring, thus with prudent purpofe fpoke : Warriors! your gen'rous rage approve I muft; Dire was the deed, the purpos'd vengeance juft : But, when the kings in full aflembly fit, To, them the crime and punifnment commit : For rafh procedure wrongs the faireft caufe, And private juftice flill iufulu the laws. Now to your tents your fhields and lances bear: Theieus expects us, and the hour is near : The altars flame, the priefts in order fland, With facrifice, to hallow ev'ry band : But to the covert of .a tent convey, Sav'd from the fcorching winds and folar ray, Thefe dear remains ; till Thefeus has decreed Diftinguifh'd obfequies to grace the dead.' The hero thus ; and from his fhoulders threw The regal cloak of gold, and fhining blue, Which o'er the flain with prudent care he fprcad } His ghaflly features from the crowd to {hade. Thrice to his eyes a flood of forrow came ; Thrice on the brink he check'd the gufhing

ft ream

In act to flow ; his rifing fighs fupprefl ; Patient of grief, he lock'd it in his breaft.

BOOK VI.

To fad defpair th' JEtolian chief refign'd, ,And dire remorfe, which flung his tortur'd mind, From early dawn in duft extended lay, By all abandon'd till the fetting ray. Thrice call'd her lord : he ftarted from the floor: In fullen majefly his chair' of flate, Full in the mkift oppofed to the gate, The hero prefs'd : the anxious maid drew near, By love excited, and reftrainVt by fear : Trembling before the chief fhe flood, and held A bowl of wine with temp'ring mixtures queil'd; fcThe fragrant juice which iam'd Thefprotia yields, .The vintage of her cliffs and funny fields. And thus : Dread lord! reject not with difdaia A prefent ofFer'd by 2 humble fwain. This bowl receive, of gentle lorce to charm Diftrels, and of its rigour grief difarm. How vain to grjleve for ever for the paft ! No hour recals the actions of the lafl ; Nor grsans, nor fighs, nor flreams of forrow fhed, From their long {lumber can awake the dead. When death's ilern pow'r his iron fceptre lays On the cold lips, the vital fpirit flrays < VOL. XI.
 * Twas then Caffandra came ; and, at the door.

To worlds unknown : nor can the dead perceive The tears of friends or lovers when they grieve.

To footh his paffion, thus the virgin trjrd ; With wonder thus th' ^Etolian chief reply'd : Say who you are, who thus approach my feat, Unaw'd by good Deiphobus' s fate ? When all avoid my prefence, nor appear, By indignation banifh'd, or by fean What is thy name ? what deed of mine could bind To frjfndfhip fo unchang'd thy conftant mind; Still to furvive the horror of a crime, Whofe colour blots the regiflers of time ?

The hero thus : Caffandra thus replies : Iphicles is my name ; my country lies Where Antirrihum's rocky fhores divide, Extended in die deep th' Ionian tide. The-e dwells my fire, poffefl of ample flore, Ip flocks and herds, and gold's refulgent oro. Oeneus his name : his velTels on the main, From lich. Heiperia watt him yearly gain, And that fam'd land, whofe promontories run Far to the weft, beneath the letting fun ; Where ev'ry cliff with veins of filver gleams, Andfaads of gold lie glitt'ring in th ftreams.

THE W R K S O F W I L K t E.

In Hymen's Taered ties two fons he bred, Me, and my valiant brother Lycomed. The youngeft I, was charg'd his flocks to keep t My brother rui'd his galleys on the deep. Once as ha left Iberia's wealthy fliore, With Boetic fleeces fraught and precious ore ; Phoenician pirates waited on the ftrand, Where high Pachynus ftf etches from the land ; Jn that fam'd ifle where _<Etna lifts his fpires, With fmoke obfcure, and blows his fulph'rous

fires.

Behind the cliffs conceaFd, the treach'rous band Waited the Greeks, defcending on the ftrand : My brother there with twenty youths they flew ; Their fudden arrows from an ambufn flew. l)ire was the deed : and ftill my forrows fhream, "Whenever that argument of woe I name, And grief prevails ; but in your prefence moft ; You ftill recal the brother whom I loft : jFor fuch he was in lineaments of face, In martial ftature, and majeftic grace ; Though lefs in all ; in form inferior far; And ftill, though valiant, lefs in works of war. Hence, deeply rooted in my conftant heart, You challenge, as your own, a brother's part And I alone, of all the hoft, remain To fhare your grief and fuffer in your pain.

Thus by an artful tale, the virgin ftrove To fhun difcov'ry, arid conceal her love. "Yet ftill her looks, her geftures, all exprefs'd The maid ; her love in blufhes flood confefs'd. "Tydides faw;; and xjuicMy, to his thought, Bach circumftance the fair Caffandra brought. Silent Ire fat ; and fix'd in deep furprife, Her flufhittg featur-ee -mark'd and downcaft eyes. He thus reply 'd : The native truth reveal, And, what I afk you, hope not to conceal. Or (kali I credit what you, now have faid, Oeneus your fire, your brother Lycomed ? i3r art thoa fhe, whofe beauty firft did move, Within my peaceful breaft, the rage of love ? With look and voice fevere the hero fpolce. Aw'd and abafh'd, the confcious virgin fhook; She dropt the filver goblet on the ground ; The fragrant liquor drench'd the pavement round. And thus Tydides with a frown acldreiVd-: Thy art is ufelefs, and the truth confefs'd ; Nor can that fair difguife of martial arms, And male attire, conceal thy fatal charms. Thofe eyes I fee, whofs foft enchantment ftole My pence, and ffirr'd a tempeft in my foul : l$y their mild fight, in innocertce array'd, Te gailty madne'fs was my heart betray'd. Deiphobus is dead ; his mournful ghoft, Lamenting, _ Wanders on the Stygian coaft, And blames my wrath. Oli ! that the fun whicl

gave

JLight to thy birth, had fet upon thy grave ; And he had hVd ! now lifelefs on the plain A corfe he lies, and number M with the flain.

The hero ended thui ; with melting eye, The virgin turn'd, unable to reply. In forrow graceful, as the queen of love Who mourn'd Adonis in the Syrian grove, Confounded and abafh'd, fhe left the tent, And through the hoft in filent anguilh went, Far to the left ; where, in a lonely wood, To Cere* built, a rural temple ftood;

Jy fwains frequented once, but now the plac? " nfightly fhrubs o'erfpread and weeds difgracc* fhither Caffandra went ; and at the fhrine, Vith fuppliant voice addrefs'd the pow'r divine ; iear me, dread genius of this facred grove ! ..et my complaints thy fov'reign pity move ; To feek the friendly fhelter of thy dome, iVith heart unftain'd, and guiltlefs hands, I come : -,ove is my crime ; and, in thy rural feat, 3y blame unmerited, and cold ncgledl, 3anifh'd 1 come ; receive me, and protect ! She pray'd ; and, ent'ring, 'gainft a pillar ftaid rler lance, and on the floor her armour laid. Then falling proftrate pour'd a flood of tears, With prefent ills opprefs'd, and future fears.
 * ? rom infamy I feek a fafe retreat.

'Twas then the herald of the queen of love, Zelotype, defcended in the grove, By Venus fent ; but ftill her counfels fail'd ; And Pallas with fuperior fway prevail'd : The phantom enter'd, and affum'd a form, Pale as the moon appearing through a ftorm ; In Amyclea's fhape difguis'd fhe came; The fame her afpe6t, and her voice the fame. Caflandra faw ; a fudden horror froze Her veins ; erecft her parted locks arofe, Stirr'd from the root : impatient thus the maid, With trembling lips, in fault'ring accents, faid : My lov'd, my honour'd parent ! have my groans, From death's deep flumber, rous'd thy facie4

bones :

I hop'd that nothing could your peace moleft, Nor mortal cares difturb eternal reft ; That, fafe for ever on th' Elyfian fhore,. uq A You heard of human mifery no more. .

Caffandra thus : and thus the Paphian maid : Your gen'rous love, my child, is ill repaid; Your griefs I feel, and bear a parent's part* Though blood no more returns to warm my

heart ;

And that, which firft your mortal being bred, To duft lids mould'ring, in its earthy bed. To Calydon, my child, with fpeed return ; Your father grieves, your gay companions mournj He deems you loft, and defp'rate of hisftate, By grief fubdif d, invokes his ling'ring fate : Incefiant tears bedew his wrinkled face, And afb.es foul his hoary locks difgrace. Return, return ! nor let misjudging pride, With further errors ftrive the paft to hide. Return, once more to blefs his aged eyes, Or, by your guilty fiay a parent dies.

She ended thus. Her arms Caffandra fpread To fold, in clofe embrace, the parting lhade ; In vain ; for, flatting from her grafp, it flew, And, gliding through the fhady walks, with*

drew.

The virgin now awaits the rifing morn, With purpofe fix'd impatient to return : And when, through broken clouds, a glimm'rinjj

ray

Of early dawn foretold approaching day ; The fpear fhe grafp'd, and on her temples plac'd The golden caique, with various plumage grac'd; Tydides' gift ; when in the ranks of fight The brave Clytander funk beneath his might. The gods fhe cali'd ; and, bending to the ground, Their aid invok'd with reverence profound.

EPIGO N-I AD, Boox VI.

Then left the dome ; and where Ifmenus ftrays, Winding through thickeft woods his wat'ry maze, Her way purfu'd ; a hoftile band drew near ; Their tread {he heard, and law their armour clear, Chief of the Theban youth; the herds they drove, And flocks collected from the hills above. For thus the Faphian goddefs had betray'd, To hands of cruel foes, the guiltlefs maid.

By fudden terror check'd, at firft me ftood ; Then turn'd, and fought the covert of the wood ; Nor fo efcap'd : her glitt'ring armour {hone, The ftarry helmet, and the lofty cone, Full to the glowing eaft; its golden rays Her winding flight betray'd through all its maze. The Thebans faw ; and, rulhing 'midft the {hade With {houts of triumph, feiz'd the trembling

maid.

Amaz'd and pale, before the hoftile band, She ftood; anddropp'd the jav'lin from her hand:

fpare my life ! {he cry'd, nor wealth, nor fains To purchafe in the works of war, I came.

No hate to you I bear, or Creon's fway, Whofe fpv'reign will the. fons of Thebes obey : Me, haplefs friendihip hither led, to {hare. With Diomed, the dangers of the war.

1 now return and quit the martial ftrife, My fire to fuccour on the verge of life ; Who crufti'd beneath a load of forrow bends, And to the grave, with painful fteps, dcfcends. But if the plea of pity you reject,

The ftronger ties of equity refpect :

A truce we fwore; Jove witnefies the deed;

On him who breaks it, vengeance will fucceed.

Thus as the virgin fpoke, Phericles ey'd The arms {he wore ; and fternly thus reply'd : Jll-fated wretch! that panoply to wear : The fame my brother once in fight did bear; Whom fierce Tydides, with fuperior might, O'erthrew and vanquifh'd in the ranks of fight. If with his foe my brother's fpoils you ftiar'd, A mark of love, or merited reward ; Prepare to yield them and refign thy breath ; To vengeance due : Clytander claims thy death.

Frowning he fpoke, and drew his {Lining

blade ;

Beneath the lifted ftecl, th* unhappy maid Confounded ftoop'd : Menoctius caught the ftroke On his broad fliield ; and, interpofing, fpoke : Brave youth ! refpeft my counfel, and fufpend The fudden vengeance which you now intend. The chiefs of Thebes, the rulers of the ftate, In full aflembly, at the Cadmean gate, A monument for great Leophron rear ; His name, atchievements, and defcent to bear. Thither let this devoted youth be led, An off'ring grateful to the hero's {hade : Nor {hall Clytander lefs the deed approve ; Or friendry zeal applaud, and feel our love ; When fame {hall tell, in Pluto's gloomy reign, How ftern Tydides mourns this warrior {lain. Thus ignorantly they; nor knew the peace Of happy patriots, when their labours ceafe ; That tell revenge and life confuming hate Find no admittance to moleft their ftate.

And now they led th captive crofs the plain ; Scarce could her trembling knees their load fuf- Uin;

Thrice had her fault* ring tongue her fer rcveal'd, But corifcious ihame opposed it and conceal'd. Their monarch at the Cadmean gate they found, In mournful ftate, with all his peers around. Oblations to Leophron's mighty {hade, In honey, milk, and fragrant wines they paid* And thus Lycaon's fon addrefs'd the king : A grateful off 'ring to your rites we bring. This youth, the friend of Diomed, we found Clad in the armour which Clytander own'd ; My brother's fpoils, by Diomed poflefs'd. When his keen jav'lin pierc'd tke hero's breaft. Soon had my rage the hoftile deed repaid, With vengeance grateful to his kindred made } But public griefs the firft atonements claim, And heroes of a more diftinguifti'd name. Leophron, once his country's pride and boaft ; Andremon too, the bulwark of the hoft, His blood demands; for when their fouls {hall

know

The fweet revenge, in Pluto's {hades below^ Pleased with our zeal, will each illuftrious ghofl, With lighter footfteps, prefb th' Elyfian coaft.

He fp"oke ; the princes all at once incline ; The reft, with {bouts, applaud the dire defign. An altar fooo of flow'ry turf they raife : On ev'ry fide the facred torches blaze : The bowls, in {hining order, plac'd around ; The fatal knife was whetted fr the wound. Decreed to perifli, ftood the helplefs fair ; Like fome foft fawn, when, in the hunter's fnare Involv'd, {he fees him from his feat arife, Hii brandifh'd truncheon dreads, and heart hit

cries ;

Silent flic ftands, to barb'rous force refign' d, In anguifti foft, diflblv'd her Under mind. The pr lefts in order ev'ry rite prepar'd ; Her neck and bofom, for the blow, they bar'dj The helmet loos'd, the buckled mail unbound, Whofe {hining circles fenc'd her neck around. Down funk the fair dilguife"; and full to figh; The virgin ftood, with charms divinely brighj. The comely ringlets of her flowing hair, fcuch. as the wood-nymphs wear, and naiad*

fair,

Hung loofe ; her middle by a zone embrac'd, Which fix'd the floating garment round her waift. Venus herfelf divine eftulgence filed O'er all her ftattfre, and her lovely head ; Such as in fpring the colour'd bloflbms {how, When on their op'ning leaves the zephyrs blow ; Amazement feiz'd the chicfi ; and all around, With murmurs naix'd the wond'ring ^crowds re- found. ( J "viif

Moft vote to fpare ; the angry monarch criea ; Ye minifters, proceed ! the captive dies. { 70 j Shall any here, by weak compaflion mor'd, A captfve fpare by ftern Tydides lov'd ? The fcourge of Thebes, whofe wide r deftroying

. hand

Has thinn'd our armies in their native land, And flain my fon : by all the gods I fwear, Whpfe names, to cite in vain, the nations fear, That none he loves, {hall ever 'icapc my rage: The vulgar plea 1 fcorn, of lex, or age. Ev'n {he, who now appears with ev'ry grace Adonf d, each charm of ftature and of face $

THE WORKS OP WILKlE.

Ev'n though from Venus fhe could claim the prize Her life to vengeance forfeited, fhe dies.

Sternly the monarch ended. All were flill, With mute fubmiffion to the fov'reign will : !Lycaon's valiant fon except ; alone His gen'rous ardour thus oppos'd the throne : Dread fov'reign ! liflen with a patient ear, And what I now fhall offer, deign to hear. When firit by force we feiz'd this captive maid, The truce was vi'lated, our faith betray'd ; And juflice, which, in war and peace, prevails Alike, and weighs their deeds with equal fcales, Her freedom claims, with prefents to atone For what our rage perfidioufly has done : ."Let us not, now, to further wrongs proceed ; But fear the curfe for perjury decreed.

Phericles thus: and, with a flern regard, His indignation thus the king declar'd : Vain giddy youth ! forbear, -with factious breath To roufe my juflice to pronounce thy death : 3Ui oppofition, firfl of all you move, While others hear in filence, and approve. Your bold prefumption check, and learn to dread iMy vengeance thunder'd on your wretched head

Frowning he ended thus : his threats defy'd, With gen'rous heat Fhericles thus reply'd : Princes ! attend, and truft my words fincere ; The king I honour, and his will revere, When truth gives fandlion to his juft commands Nor common right in oppofition ftands : "Vet gen'rous minds a principle retain, Which promifes and threats attempt in vain, Which claims dominion, by the gods imprefl, The love of juflice in the human breafl : By this infpir'd, againft fuperior might, I rife undaunted in the caufe of right. And now, by all th' avenging gods I fwear, Whofe names, to cite in vain, the nations fear; That no bold warrior of the Theban bands, This maid fhall violate with hoftile hands ; While thefe my arms have force the lance to

wield,

And lift in her defence this pond'roUs fhield, Not ev'n the king himfelf, whofe fov'reign fway The martial fons of facred Thebes obey.

He faid : and, by his bold example fir'd, With fhining fleel the altar they furround, The fire now flaming, and the vi6lim crown'd. On ev'ry fide in wild diforder move The thick compacted crowds ; as when a grove, Rock'd by a fudden whirlwind, b'endsand ftrains, From right to left, along the woodland plains : Fell difcord foon had rag'd, in civil blood, With wide deftru&ion notto be withftood; For from his feat the- aiigry monarch fprung, And lifted, for the blow, the fceptre hung :. ; But 'midft the tumult, Clytophon appear'd, Approved for wifdom, and with rev'rence heard. Straight, by the robe, the furious chief he feiz'd, And thus,- with fage advice, his wrath appeas'd : Hear, mighty prince \" refpedl the words of age, And calm 1 the wafteful tempeft of thy rage; The public welfare to revenge prefer, For nations fufFer when their fov 'reigns err. It ill becomes us-'now, when hoftile pow'rs Witfe ftri&eft fiege iiivcft our ftraiten'd tow'rs ;
 * Twelve warriors rofe, with equal zeal infpir'd.

-

It ill becomes us thus, thus with civil arms, To wound the flatle, and aggravate our harms. Hear, all ye princes ! what to me appears A prudent counfel, worthy of your ears: Let us inquire, if in our hands we hold A life efleem'd by Diomed the bold: If, in his breafl, thofe tender pafiiona reign, Which charms like thefe mufl kindle and main tain;

Our mandates freely to his tent we fend, For to our will his haughty foul mufl bend : Nor dares he, while the Theban walls enclofc A pledge fo dear, invade us or oppofe ; But mufl fubmit, whenever we require, Or with his pow'rs to aid us, or retire.

He'faid ; the monarch painfully fupprefs'd His burning rage, and lock'd it in his breafl. He thus reply'd : Thy prudent words infpire Pacific counfels, and fubdue mine ire : But if in peace I rul'd the Theban flate, Nor hoftile armies thunder'd at my gate; They had not dar'd, with infolence and fpite, My purpofe to oppofe and fcorn my might. He faid, and to his feat again retir'd ; While fuden tranfport ev'ry breafl infpir'd ; As fwains rejoice, when, from the troubled feies, By breezes fwept, a gather'd tempeft flies ; With wifh'd return the fun exerts his beams, To cheer the woods and gild the fhining flreams. Meanwhile, the fon of Tydeus, through the

plain,

With wifhing eyes, Caflandra fought in vain ; At ev'ry leader of the bands inquir'd; Then, fad and hopelefs, to his tent retir'd. 'Twas then his grief the bounds of filence broke, And thus in fecret to himfelf he fpoke : Me fure, of all mens fons, the gods have curs'd With their chief plagues, the greateft and the

worft ;

Doom'd to difaflers, from my earlieft hour ; Not wife to fhun, nor patient to endure. From me the fource, unnumber'd ills proceed To all my friends ; FJeiphobus is dead ! His foul excluded, feeks the nether fkies, And wrong'd Caflandra from my prefence flies. Me furely, at my birth, the gods defign'd Their rod of wrath, to fcourge the human kind ; For flaughter form'd, with brutal fury brave, Prompt to deflroy, but impotent to fave. .^ How could my madnefs blame thee, gen'rous

maid! : ,*j;V';i And, with my crime, thy innocence upbraid ! Deiphobus is fall'n ! but not by thee ; FKy only fault, alas ! was love to me : For this, in plated fleel thy limbs were drefs'd,

weighty fhield thy tender arm opprefs'd : For this thou didfl to hoflile fields repair, And court luch objects as diftracl: the fair ; 'atient above thy fex ! an ill reward, Slame and unjufl reproach, was all you fhar'd. Jy my unkindnefs banifh'd, now you roam, And feek, through paths unknown, your diflant

home :

o mountain wolves expos'd, a helplefs prey, nd men unjufl, more terrible than they, ave her, ye gods ! and let me fland the aim f Jove's all-dreaded bolt, and fcorching fiaine,

EPIGONIAD, Book VI.

37

hus plain'd the hero till the fetting ray W hdrew, and ev'ning (hades expell'd the day ; Th n in his tent, before his lofty feat, Appear'd a herald from the Theban ftate ; The hero's knees, with trembling hands, he

prefs'd,

And with his meffage thus the chief addrefs'd : Hear, mighty prince ! the tidings which I bring, From Thebes affembled, and the Theban king. An armed warrior of your native train, At early dawn, was feiz'd upon the plain. What others did, forgive, if I relate ; Creon commands me and the Theban (late. A fairer youth, in martial arms, ne'er came To court bright honour in the fields of fame. A cafque of polifli'd fteel his temples prefs'd, The golden cone with various plumage drefs'd; A filver mail embrac'd his body round, And greaves of brafs his (lender ancles bound : To Thebes well-known the panoply he wore, The fame, which once, renown'd Clytander bore. Our warriors dragg'd him to the Cadmean gate, Where Creon, with the rulers of the ftate, Afifembled fat ; the trembling captive flood, With arms furrounded, and th' infulting crowd.

fpare my life ! he cry'd, nor wealth nor fame To purchate in the works of war, I came.

No hate to you, I bear, or Creon's fway, Whole fov'rcign will the fons of Thebes obey. Me lucklefs friendfhip hither led, to (hare, With Diomed, the dangers of the war.

1 now return, and quit the martial ftrife, My (ire to fuccour on the verge of life ; Whofe feeble age the prefent aid demands, And kind alfiitauce of my filial hands.

His words inclin'd the wifeft and the beft, And tome their gen'rous fympathy exprefs'd : But others, nothing mov'd, his guiitlefs head With threats demanded, to avenge the dead : And thus the king : My countrymen, attend ! In this, let all your loud contention end : If Diomed, to fave this valu'd life, The field abandons and the martial ftrife ; The captive fafe, with prelents, I'll reftore, Of brafs, and fteel, and gold's refulgent ore : But if thefe terms the haughty chief iliall flight, And for the Argives ftill exert his might; Before our heroes' tombs, this youth fliall bleed, To pleafe the living, and avenge the dead. His fentence all approv'd ; and to your ear, As public herald, I the meflage bear ; And mud your anfwer crave, without delay; Creon and Thebes already blame my (lay.

Thus as he (poke, contending paffions (trove, With force oppos'd, the hero's foul to move ; As drifting winds impel the ocean's tide, And fway the reeling waves from fide to fide : Rage dictated revenge ; but tender fear, From love and pity, warn'd him to forbear : Till, like a lion, fiercer from his pain, Thefe wordsbroke forth in wrath and highdifdain: Go, tell your tyrant, that he tempts a foul, Which prefents caimot win, nor threats controul : Not form'd, like his, to mock at ev'ry tie ; With perjury to fport, and heav'n defy. A common league the Argive warriors fwore, And feal'd the facred tie with wine ard gore : 4

My faith was plighted then, and ne'er fliall fail, Nor Creon's arts, to change me, aught avail. But tell him loud, that all the holt may hear, And Thebes through all her warriors learn to fear; If any, from him (elf, or by command, The captive violates with hoftile hand ; That all (hall quickly rue the guilty deed, When, to requite it, multitudes fliall bleed.

Sternly the hero ended, and refign'd. To fierce diforder, all his mighty mind. Already in his thoughts, with vengeful hands, He dealt deftruclion 'midft the Theban bands, In fancy faw the tott'ring turrets fall, And led his warriors o'er the levell'd wall. Rous'd with the thought, from his high feat he

fprung :

And grafp'd the fword, which on a column hung ; The mining blade he balanc'd thrice in air j His lances next he view'd and armour fair. When, hanging 'midft the coftly panoply, A fcarf embroider'd met the hero's eye, Which fair C-dTandra's (kilful hands had wrought ; A prefent for her lord, in fecret brought, That day, when firft he led his martial train In arms to combat on the Theban plain. As fome ftrong charm, which magic founds com*

pofe,

Sufpendsa downward torrent as it flows; Checks in the precipice its hadlong courfe, And calls it trembling upwards to its fource : Such feem'd the robe, which, to the hero's eyes, Made the fair artift in her charms to rife. His rage, fufpended in its full career, To love refigns, to grief and tender fear. Glad would he now his former words revoke, And change the purpofe which in wrath he

fpoke ;

From holtile hands his captive fair to gain, From fate to fave her, or the fervile chain : But pride, and (hame, the fond delign fuppreft ; Silent he ftood, and lock'd it in his breall. Yet had the wary Theban well dtvin'd, By lymptoms fare, each motion of his mind: With joy he faw the. heat of rage fupprels'd ; And thus again his artful words addrefs'd : Illuftrious prince ! with patience bend thine ear, And what I now fliall offer, deign to hear. Of all the griefs, diftrefsful mortals prove, The woes of friendfhip mod my pity move. You much I pity, and the youth regret, Whom you too rigidly refign to fate ; Expos'd, alone, no hope of comfort near, The fcorn and cruelty of foes to bear. O that my timely comifel might avail, For love, and fympathy, to turn the fcale ! That Thebes releas'd from thy devouring fword, The captive honour'd, and with gifts reftor'd, We yet might hope for peace, and you again Enjoy the bleffings of your native reign.

Intinuating thus, the herald try'd His aim to compais ; and the chief reply'd : In vain you drive to fway my conftant mind ; I'll not de-part while Thefeus days behind : Me nothing e'er, to change my faith, (hall move, By men attefted, and th gods above : But fince your lawlefs tyrant has detaiuM A valu'd hoftage, treacheroufly gain'd ; C iij

THE WORK.S OF WILKIE.

And dire injuftice chly will reftore \Vhcn force compels, or prcffer'd gifts implore : A truce I grant, till the revolving fun, Twice ten full circuits of his journey run, Fiom the red ocean, points the morning ny, And on the ftepsof darknefs pours the day j Till then, From fight and council I abftain, Nor lead my pow'rs to combat on the plain : For this, your monarch to my tent fhalifend The captive, and fiom injuries defend. This proffer is my lalt ; in vain will prove All your attempts my fixed mind to move : If Thebes accepts it, let a fign declare, A flaming torch, difplay'd aloft in air, From that high tow'r, \vhofe airy top is known .By travellers from afar,, and. marks the town ; The fane of Jove : but if they fhall reject The terms I fend, nor equity refpecr., They foon fhall feel the fury of mine ire, In wafteful havoc, and the rage of fire.

The hero thus ; and round his fhoulders flung A fhaggy cloak, with vulgar trappings hung ; And on his head a leathern helmet plac'd, A boar's rough front with grifly terrors grac'd ; A fpear he next aflum'd, and pond'rous fliield, And led the Theban, iffuing to the field. Amid furrounding guards they pafs'd unfeen. For night had ftretch'd her friendly (hade between ; Till nearer, through the gloom, the gate they

knew ;

The herald enter'd, and the chief withdrew : But turning oft to Thebes his eager eyes, The fignal on the tow'r at laft he fpies ; A flaming torch upon the top expos'd, Its ray at once his troubled mind compos'd : Such joy he felt, as when a watch-tow Vs lightt Seen through the gloom of feme tempeituous

night,

Glads the wet mariner, a ftar to guide His lab'ring veflel, through the ftormy tide.

BOOK

ISTow filent night the middle fpace pofleft, Oi heaven, or iourney'd dowi>w<uds to the v eft : Eut Creon. ftill with third of vengeance fir'd, Repote declined, nor from his toils refpir-Mj Bat held his peers in council to debate Pians for revenge fuggefled by his hate, istfpre the king Dienices aypear'd ; To {peak his tidings fad the hero fear'd ; Return'd from Oeta, thither lent to call, Alcides to protect his native wall.

And Creon thus : Dienices i explain Your forrow ; are our hopes of aiJ in vain ? Does Hercules neglect h;s native foil; "While ftrangcw reap the harveft of his toil ? We from your filence cannot hope iuccefs j Bat further ills your falling tears confefs ; Cleon my fon is dead ; his fate you mourn ; 3 muft not hope to fee his fate return. Sure if he liv'd, he had not come the laft ; But found his father with a filial hafte. His fate, at onCe, declare, you need not fear,, "With any tale of grief to woui.d mine ear, Proof to misfortune: for the cnan who knows The whole variety of human woes Can (land unmov'd though loads of forrow prefs; Practis'd to bear, familiar with diftrefs.

The monarch quetiion'd thus, and thus the

youth :

Too well thy boding fear has found the truth. Cleon is dead ; the hero's,^fbes lie Wheie Pclion's lofty head afcends the fky. Yor as, on Oeta's top, he vainly ftrove To win the arrows of the fon of Jove ; Compelling ?hiloctetes, to refign, The friend of Hercules, his arms divine j The infult to repel, n arrow ftevv, And from his heart the vital current drew : Proftrate he funk ; and welling trora the wound, A Hood of gote injpurpied all ;he ground.

Thus fpoke Dienices. The king fuppreft His big diftrefs, and locked it in his breaft : Sighing he thus reply'd : The Caufe declare, Which holds the great Alcides from the war; And why another now, the bow commands And arrows facred, frbm his mighty hands. Nor fear my valiant fon's untimely fate, With all its weight of forrow, to relate : All I can bear. Againft my naked head, 1 fee the vengeance of the gods decreed ; With hoftile arms befet my tott'ring reign ; The people wafted, and my children flain. Attempts prove fruitlefs; ev'ry hope deceives; Succefs in profpect difappointment gires; With fwift approach, I lee deftruction come ; But with a mind unmov'd, I'll meet my doom ; Nor ftain th\s war-worn vifage with a tear, Since all that Heav'n has purpos'd, I can bear. The monarch thus his riling grief fupprefs'd ; And thus the peers Dienices addrefs'd : - Princes of Thebes I and thou, wh.ofe fov'reigt

hand

Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command ! To what I offer, lend an equal ear; The truth I'll fpeak, and judge me when you heat. If Cleon, by my fault, no more returns, For whom, her fecond hope, his country mourns; No doom I deprecate, no torture fly, Which juftice can denounce, or rage fupply : But if my innocence appears, I claim Your cenfure to efcape, and public blame.

From Marathon by night our courfe we And pafs'd Geraftus when the day appeared ; Andros we faw, with promontories fteep, Afcend ; and Delos level with the deep. A circuit wide ; for where Euripus roars Between Eubcea and the Theban fhores, The Argives had difpo^d their naval train ; And prudence taught; to fliun the hpflile plain..

E PIG ONI AD, .BOOK VII.

Four day3 we fUii'd; the fifth our voyage ends,

Where Ucta, floping to the fea, defcends.

The vales I iearch'd, and woody h ights above,

Guided by fame, to find the fon of Jove,

With Cleon onjy ; for we charg'd the band

To ftay, and guard our veffel on the ftrand.

In vain we fearch'd : but when the lamp of day

Approach'd the ocean with its letting ray,

A cave appear'd, which from a mountain ileep,

Through a low valley, look'd into the deep.

Thither we turn'd our weary fteps, and found

The cavern hung with favage Ipoils around;

The wolf ' gray fur, the wild boar's ihaggy hide,

The lion's niane, the panther's Ipcckled pnde :

Thefe figns we mark'd ; and knew the rocky feat,

Somefolitary hunter's wild retreat.

Farther invited by a glimm'ring ray,

Which through the darknefs fhed uncertain day,

In tke receffes of the cave we found

The club of Hercules; and wiapt around,

Which, feen before, we knew, the lion's fpoils,

The mantle which he wore in all his toils.

Amaz'd we flood ; in filence, each his mind

To fear and hope alternately refign'd :

With joy we hop'd to find the hero near;

The club and mantle found, difpos'd to fear.

His force invincible in fight we knew,

Which nought of mortal kind could e'er fubdue.

But fear'd Apollo's might, or his who heaves

The folid earth, and rules the ftormy waves.

Pond'ring we flood, when on the roof above, The tread of feet descending through the grove Which crown'd the hollow cliff, amaz'd we heard ; And itraight before the cave a youth appear'd. A bleeding buck acrofs his fhoulders flung, Ty'd with a rope of twifted rufhes hung. He dropt his burden in the gate, and piac'd Againft the pillar'd cliff his bow unbrac'd. '1 was then oar footltcps in the cave he heard, And through the gloom our fliiiiing arms appear'd. His bow he bent ; and backwards trom the rock Retir'd, and, of our purpofe quell'ning, Ipoke : Say who you are, who feck this wild abode, Through defert paths, by mortals rarely trod ? If juil, and with a fair intent you come, Friendlhip expect, and fafety in my dome : But if for violence, your danger learn, And truft my admonition when 1 warn: Certain as fate, where'er this arrow flies, The haplels wretch who meets its fury dies : No buckler to refill its point avails, The hammer'd cuirais yields, the breafl-plate fails; And where it once has drawn ihe purple gore, No charm can cure, no med'citte health rcliorc.

With threats he queftion'd thus ; and Uleoii faid We come to call Alcides to oui aid ; 33y us the fenators of Thebes entreat The hero to protect his native ft ate : For hoftilc arms invefl theTheban tow'rs; Famine within, without the fword devours. If you have learn'd where Hercuies remains, In mountain caves, or hamlets on the plains, Our way direct ; for, led by gen'ral fame, To find him in thefe defert wilds we came.

He fpoke ; and PhiloiSetes thus again : May Jove for Thebes fome other aid ordain j For Hercules no more exerts his might Againft op prefiive force, for iiijur'd right :

Retir'd, among the gods, he fits fcrene,

And views, beneath him far, this mortal fccnc :

But enter now this grotto, and partake

What 1 can offer for the hero's fake :

With you from facrcd Thebes he claim'd his birth,

For godlike virtue fam'd through all the earth ;

Thebes therefore and her people flill lhall be

Like fair Tra&nncs and her ions to me.

Enter, for now the doubtful twilight fails,

And o'er the fiient earth the night prevails :

From the moift valleys noxious togs arife,

To wrap the rocky heights, and fhade the Ikleb.

The cave we enter'd, and his bounty fhar'd; A rural banquet by himfelf prepar'd. But foon the rage of thirfl and hunger flaid, My mind flill doubtful, to the youth 1 faid : Muii haplefs Thebes, defpairing and undent, Want the afliftance of her braveft fon ? The hero's fate explain, nor grudge mine ear The fad affurance of our lofs to hear. I queftion'd thus. The youth with horror pale Attempted to recite an awful talc ; Above the fabled woes which bards rchearfc, When fad Melpomene iufpires the verfc.

The wife of Jove (Poeonides reply'd) All arts in v-in to crufti the hero try'd; For brighter from her hate his virtue burn'd; And dilappointcd ftill, the goddefs mourn'd,. His ruin to efiedl at laft fhe ftrove By jcaiouly, the rage of injur'd love. The bane to Dciamra's breaft convey'd, Who, as a rival, L-ar'd th' Oechalian maid. The goddefs knew, that jealous of her lord,. A robe fhe kept with latent poifon^ ftor'd ; The Centaur's gift, bequeath'd her, to reclaim The hero's love, and light his dying flame; / If e'er, devoted to a ilranger's charms, He ftray'd inconltant from her widow'd armj But giv'n with treacherous intent to prove The death of nature, not the life of love. Mad from her jealoufy, the charm Ihe try'd ; His love to change, the deadly robe apply'd : And guikkfs oi the prclenc which he bore, \

Lychas convey'd it to Ccnoe urn's fhore : Where to the pow'r$ immortal for their aid, A grateful hecatomb the heio paid: Whn favour'd from above, his arm o'erthrew The proud Jiurytus, acd his warriors Hew. The venom'd rokethe hero took, nor fear'd A gift by conjugal relpecls *ndear'd: And llraight rciign'd the lion's fcuggy fpoils, 'i !._ mantle which he wore in ail lua toils. l\o iign oi harm the fatal prefcnt ib,ow'd, Till rous'd by heut its iccrct venom glow'd; Straight on the flefh it feiz'd like ftifltil glue, And icor clung deep to ev'ry member grew. Then tearing with his hands th' infernal fnarc, Hi.^ ikin he rent, and laid the naulclcs bare, >,-, Wliile flreams of blood deicendmg from the woun<J, Alix'd with the gore of victims oil the ground. The guiltlefs JLychas, in his furious mood, Hefdz'd, as trembling by his fide he flood : Him by the flender ancle ihatch'd, he iwung, And 'gainft a rocky promontory flurg : Which, from the dire event, S^is name retains; Through his white locks impurpl'd ruih the braine* Aw'd by the deed, his defp'rate rage to fhun, Our bold companions from his prci'cnce rnn.%

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

I too, conceal'd behind a rock, remain'd; My love and 1 ympathy by fear reftrain'd : For furious 'midtl the facred. fires he flew ; The viclims fcatter'd, apd the hearths o'erthrew. Then unking proftrate, where a tide of gore From oxen flain had blacken'd all the fhore, His form 4'vine he roll'd in duft and blood ; His groans the hills re-echo'd and the flood. Then rifmg furious, to the ocean's ftreams He rufh'd, in hope to quench his raging flames; But burning ftill the unextinguifh'd pain, The fhore he left, and ftretch'd into the main. A galley anchor'd near the beach we found ; Her curled canvafs to the breeze unbound ; And trac'd his defp'rate courfe, till far before We faw him land on Oeta's defert fhore. Towards the fkies his furious hands he rear'd, And thus, acrofs the deep his voice we heard: Sov'reign of heav'ri and earth 1 whofe bound-

lefs fway

The fates of men and mortal things obey ! If e'er delighted from the courts above, In human form, you fought Alcmena's love ; If fame's unchanging voice to all the earth, With truth, proclaims you author of my birth ; Whence fr.om a courfe of fpotlefs glory run, Succefiful toils and wreaths of triumph won, Am I- thus wretched ? better, that before Some monfter fierce had drunk my ftreaming

gore;

Or crufh'd by Cacus, foe to gods and men, My batter'd brains had ftrevv'd his rocky den : Than from my glorious toils and triumphs paft, To fall fubdu'd by female arts at laft. O cool my boiling blood, ye winds, that blow From mountains loaded with etr rnal ihow, And crack the icy cliffs ; in vain ! in vain ! Your rigour cannot quench my raging pain ! For round this heart the furies wave their brands, And wring my entrails with their burning hands. Now bending from the fkies, O wife of Jove ! Enjoy the vengeance of thy injur'd love : For fate, by me, the thund'rer's guilt atones ; Arid, punifh'd in her fon, Alcmcna groans : The object of your hate fhall foon expire ; Fix'd on my moulders preys a net of fire : Whom nor the toils nor dangers could fubdue, By falfe Euryftheus dictated from you ; Nor tyrants lawlefs, nor the monftrous brood, Which haunts the defert or infefts the flood, Nor Greece, nor all the barb'rous climes that lie Where Phoebus ever points his golden eye ; A woman hath o'erthrown ! ye gods ! I yield To female arts, unconquer'd in the field. My arm& <ilas ! are thefe the fame that bow'd Anteus, and his giant force fubdu'd ? That dragg'd Nemea's monfter from his den; And flew the dragon in his native fen ? Alas, alas ! their mighty mufcles fail, While pains infernal ev'ry nerve aflail : Alas, alas ! I feel in ftrearns of woe Thefe eyes diiTolv'd, before untaught to flow. Awake my virtue, oft in dangers try'd, Patient in toils, 'in deaths unterrify'd, Roufe to my aid ; nor let my labours part, With fame.atchiev'd, be blotted by the laft ; Firm and unmov'd, the prefent fliock endure j Once -triumph, and for ever reft fecure.

The hero thus ; and grafp'd a pointed rock With both his arms, which flraight in pieces broke, Crufh'd in his agony ; then on his breaft Dcfcending proftrate, further plaint fuppreft. And now the clouds, in dufky volumes fpread, Had darken'd all the mountains with their {hade: The winds withhold their breath ; the billows reft ; The fky's dark image on the deep impreft. A bay for fhelter op'ning in the ftrand, We law, and fteer'd our vcflel to the land. Then mounting on the rocky beach above, Through the thick gloom defcry'd the fon of Jove. His head, declin'd between his hands, he lean'd ; His elbows on his bended knees fuftain'd. Above him ftill a hov'ring vapour flew, Which, from his boiling veins, the garment drew. Through the thick woof we faw the fumes afpirc ; Like fmoke of victims from the facred fire. Companion's keeneft touch my bofom thrill'd ; My eyes, a flood of melting forrow filPd :. Doubtful 1 flood : and, pond'ring in my mind, By fear and pity varioufly inclin'd, Whether to fhun the hero, or effay, With friendly words, his torment to allay : When burfting from above with hideous glare, A flood of lightning kindled all the air. From Oeta's top it rufh'd in fudden ftreams; The ocean redden'd at its fiery beams. Then, bellowing deep, the thunder's awful found, Shook the firm mountains and the fhores around. Far to the eaft it roll'd, a length of fky ; We heard Eubcea's rattling cliffs reply, As at his mafter's voice a fwain appears, When wak'd from fletp his early call he hears, The hero rofe ; and to the mountain turn'd, Whofe cloud-involved top with lightning burn'd : And thus his fire addrefs'd : With patient mind, Thy call I hear, obedient and refign'd ; Faithful and true the oracle ! which fpoke, In high Dodona, from the facred oak; " That twenty years of painful labours paft, " On Oeta's top I fhould repofe at laft :" Before, involv'd, the meaning lay cenceal'd; But now I find it in my fate reveal'd. Thy fov'reign will I blame not, which denies, With length of days to crown my victories : Though ftill with danger and diftrefs engag'd, For injur'd right eternal war I wag'd ; A life of pain, in barb'rous climates led, The heav'ns my canopy, a rock my bed : More joy I've felt than delicacy knows, Or all the pride of regal pomp beftows. Dread fire ! thy will I honour md revere, And own thy love with gratitude fincere, [boaft Which watch'd me in my toils, jthat none could To raife a trophy from my glory loft : And though at laft, by female arts, o'ercome, And unfufpected fraud, I find my doom; There to have fail'd, my honour ne'er can fhake, Where vice is only ftrong and virtue weak.

Ho faid : and turning to the cloudy height, The feat of thunder, wrapt in fable night, Firm and undaunted trod the fteep afcent ; An earthquake rock'd the mountain as he went. Back from the fhaking fhores retir'd the flood j In horror loft, my bold companions flood, To fpeech or motion ; but the prefent pow'v Of love infjpir'd me., in that awful hour 5

EPIC ONI AD, Book VII.

With trembling; fteps I trac'd the fon of Jove ; And law him darkly on the flcep above, [noife Through the thick gloom, the thunler's awful Ceas'd ; and 1 ca'.l'u Imn thus with feeble voice ; O Ion of mighty Jove ! thy friend await; "Who comes to comfort thee, or iharc thy fate: In ev'ry uanger and diftreis before, His part your faithful Philocletes bore. O let me ftili attend you, and receive The comfort which a prefent friend can give, Who come obiequious for your lalt commands, And tenders to your need his willing hands.

My voice he heard ; and from the mountain Saw me afcending on the fteep below. [brow

To favour my approach his fteps he ftay'd ; And pleus'd, amidft his anguifh fmiling, faid : Approach, my Philocletes ! Oft I've known Your friendly zeal in former labours mown : The prefent, more than all, your love proclaims. Which braves the thunderer's bolts and volley 'd

flames ;

With daring ftep the rocking earthquake treads, While the firm mountains make their trembling

heads.

As my lalt gift, thefe arrows with the bow, Accejn the greateft which I can beftow; My glory, all my wealth ; of pow'r to raife Your name to honour and immortal praife ; If for wrong'd innocence your fhafts fhall fly^ As Jove" by figns directs them from the Iky.

Straight from his mighty ihoulders, as he fpoke, He loos'd and lodg'd them in a cavern'd rock ; To lie untouch'd, till future care had drain'd Their poifon from the venom'd robe retain'd. And thus again : the only aid 1 need, For all my favours pall, the only meed, Is, that, with vengeful hand, you fix a dart In cruel Deianira's faithlefs heart : ,>;.*. Her treach'rous mefienger already dead, Let her, the author of his crime, fucceed. This awful fcene forfake without delay ; In vain to mingle with my fate you ftay : No kind afliflance can my {late retrieve, Nor any friend attend me, and furvive. The hero thus his tender care expreft, And fpread his arms to clafp me to his bread ; But foon withdrew them, leafl his tainted vein* Infection had convey'd and mortal pains : Silent I ftood in dreams of forrow drown'd, Till from my heart thefe words a paffage found :

bid me not forfake thee, nor impofe What wretched Philoctetes muft refufe.

By him I fwear, whofe prefence now proclaim The thunders awful voice and forked flame, Beneath whofe fteps the trembling defert quakes, And earth affrighted to her centre fhakes ;

1 never will fortehe thee, but remain

While ftruggling life thefe rnin'd limbs retain : No form of fate mail drive me from thy fide, Nor death with all its terrors e'er divide ; Tho' the fame ftrokeour mortal lives {hould end, One flafli confume us, and our afhes blend.

I fpoke j and to the cloudy fteep we turn'd i Along its brow the kindled foreft burn'd. The favage brood, defcending to the plains, The fcatter'd flocks, and dread diftraded f wains, P-ufli'd from the {baking cliffc : we faw them come, In wild difordcr mingled, through the gloom. ;

And now appear'd the defert's lofty head,

A narrow rock with forefts thinly fpread.

His mighty hands difplay'd aloft in air,

To Jove the hero thus addrefs'd a pray'r : [ikies,

Hear me, dread pow'r ! whofe nod controls the

At whofe command the winged lightning flies:

Almighty fire; if yet you deign to own

Alcmena's wretched offspring as your fon ;

Some comfort in my agony impait,

And bid thy forked thunder rend this heart:

Round my devoted head it idly plays;

And aids the fire, which wattes me with its rays:

By heat inflam'd, this robe exerts its pow'r,

My fcorched limbs to ihrivel and devour ;

Upon my moulders, like a dragon, clings,

And fixes in my fiefh a thoufand ftings.

Great fire / in pity to my fuit attend,

And with afudden ftrokerny being end.

As thus the hero pray'd, the lightning ceas'd, And thicker darknefs all the hill tmbrac'd. He faw his fuit deny'd : in fierce defpair, The rooted pines he tore, and cedars fair ; And from the crannies of the rifted rocks, Twifted with force immenfe the ftubborn oaks. Of thefe upon the cliff a heap he laid, And thus addrefs'd me, as I ftood difmay'd : Behold, my friend ! the ruler of the ikies, In agony invok'd, my fuit denies ; But fure the oracle infpir'd from heaven, Which in Dodona's facrcd grove wa given, The truth declar'd ; " that pow my toils (hall ccafc, " And all my painful labours end in peace : Peace, death can only bring : the raging fmart, Wrapt with my vitals, mocks each healing art. Not all the plants that clothe the verdant field, Not all the health a thoufand mountains yieloV Which on their tops the fage phyfician finds, Or digging from the veins of flint unbinds, This fire can quench. And therefore, to obey My laft commands, prepare without delay. Wh^en on this pile you fee my limbs composed, Shrink not, but bear What muft not be oppos'd ; Approach, and, with an unrelenting hand, Fix in the boughs Beneath, a flaming brand. 1 muft not longer truft this madding pain, Left fome rafh deed {hould all my glory {tain. Lychas I flew upon the Ccenian more, Who knew not, fure, the fatal gift he bore : His guilt had taught him elfe to fly, nor wait, Till from my rage he found a fudden fate. I will not Deianira's action blame ; Let heav'n decide which only knows her aim : Whether from hate with treacherous intent, This fatal garment to her lord fhe fent ; Or, by the cunning of a foe betray'd, His vengeance thus imprudently convey'd. If this, or that, I urge not my command, Nor claim her fate from thy avenging hand: To lodge my lifelefs bones is all I crave, Safe and uninjur'd in the peaceful grave.

This with a hollow voice and alter'd look, [n agony extreme, the hero fpoke. [ pour'd a flood of forrow, and withdrew, Amid the kindled groves, to pluck a bough; With which the ftru&ure at the bafe I fir'd : 3n ev'ry fide the pointed flames afpir'd. But ere involving fmoke the pile enclos'd, I law the hero on the top repos'd j

4* THE WORKS

Serene as on- who, near the fountain laid, At noon enjoys the cool refrefhing {hade. The venom'd garment hifs'd ; its touch the fires Avoiding, flop'd oblique their pointed fpires : On ev ry fide die pointed fl me withdrew, And levell'd, round the burning ftructure flew. At laft victorious to the top they role ; Firm and unmov'd the hero faw them clofe. His foul unfetter 'd, fought the bleft abodes, By virtue rais'd to mingle with the gods. His bones in earth, with pious hands, I laid ; Ths place ta publifh nothing fhall perfuade ; Left tyrants now unaw'd, and men unjuft, With infults, fhould profane his facred duft. E'er fince, I haunt this folitary den, Retir'd from all the bufy paths of men ; For thefe wild mountains only fuit my ft ate, And footh with kindred gloom my deep regret. Ht ended thus ; amazement long fupprefs'd My voice ; but Cleon anfw'ring thus addrefs'd : Brave youth \ you offer to our wond'ring ears, Events more awful than tradition bears. Fix'd in my mind the hero's fate remains, I fee his agonies, and feel his pains. Yet fuffer, that for haplefs Thebes I mourn, "Whole faireft hopes the envious fates o'erturn. If great Alcides liv'd, her tow'rs mould ftand Sate and protected by his mighty hand ; On you, brave youth! our fecond hopes depend; To you the arms, of Hercules defcend ; He did not, fure, thofe glorious gifts beftow, The faafts invincible, the mighty bow ; From which thie innocent protection claim, To dye the hills with blood of favage game. Such toils as thefe your glory ne'er can raife, Nor crown your merit -with immortal praife ; And with the great Alckies place your name, To ftand diftinguilh'd in the rolls of fame. The hero thus : The ion of Poean faid : Myfelf, my arms, I offer for your aid ; If fav'ring from the fkies, the figns of Jove Confirm what thus I purpofe and approve. For when Alcides, with his laft commands, His bow and fhafts committed to my hands ; In all attempts he charg'd me to proceed As Jove by fign* afcd auguries fhould lead. -Eut thefe the rifing fun will befl difclofe ; The feafon now invites to foft repolc.

He faid ; and from the hearth a flaming bough, To light us through the fhady cavern drew. Far in the deep recefs, a rocky bed "We found, with {kins of mountain r.ionftersfpi ead. There we cornttos'd our weary limbs, and lay, Till darknefs fled before the morning ray. Then rofe and climb'd a promontory fteep, Whofe rocky brow, impending o'er the deep, Shoots high into the air, and lifts the eye, In boVttvdlefs ftretch, to take a length of iky. "With hands extended to th' ethereal height, The pow'r we cali'd who rules the realms of light; That fymbols lure his purpofe might explain, Whether the youth fhould aid us, or refrain : We pray'd ; and on the left along the vales, With pinions broad difpiay'd, an eagle fails. As near the ground his level flight he drew, He ftoop'd, and brufh'd the thickets as he iLw, When ftarting from the centre of a brake, Wich horrid Hifs appeas'd a, crcfteti fna'.-r ;

OF WILKIE.

Hkr young to guard, her vtnsm'd fangs fhe rcar'd j Above the fhrubs her wavy length appear'd ; Again ft his fwift approaches, as he flew, On ev'ry fide her forked tongue fhe through, And armed jaws ; but wheeling from the fnare The fwift affailant llill efcap'd in air ; But ftooping from his pitch, at laft he tore Her purple creft, and drew a ftream of gore. She wrcath'd ; and, in the fiercenefs of her pain, Shook the. long thickets with her twifted train : Rclax'd at laft, its fpires forgot to roll, And, in a hifs, fhe breath'dher fiery foul : In hafte to gorge his prey, the bird of Jove Down to the bottom of the thicket drove ; The young defencelefs from the covert drew ; Devour'd them ftraight, and to the mountains flew. This omen feen, another worfe we hear; The fubterraneous thunder greets our ear: The worft of all the figns which augurs know ; A dire prognoftic of impending woe.

Amaz'd we flood, till Philodetes broke Our long dejected filence thus, and fpoke ; Warriors of Thebes \ the auguries diffuade My purpofe, and withhold me from your aid ; Though pity moves me, and ambition draws, To {hare your labours, and affert your caufe ;. In fight the arms of Hercules to fhow, ^ And from his native ramparts drive the foe. But vain it is againft the gods to ftrive ; Whofe counfels ruin nations or retrieve ; Without their favour, valour nought avails, And human prudence felf-fub verted fails ; For irrefiftibly their pow'r prefides In all events, and good and ill divides. Let Thebes affembled at the altars waif, And long proceffions crowd each facred gate : With facrifice appeas'd, and humble pray'r, Their omens fiultrated, the gods may ipare. To-day, my guefts, repofe ; to-morrow fail, If heav'n propitious fends a profp'rous gale : For, fhifting to the fouth, the weflerri breeze Forbids you now to truft the faithlefs feas. . The hero thus ; in filence fad we mourn'd ; And to the iblitary cave return'd, Defpairing of iucccfs; our grief he fbar'd, And for relief a cheering bowl prepar'd ; i he vintage which the grape fpontaneous yields, By art untutor'd, on the woodland fields, He fought with care, and mingled in the bowl, A plant, of pow'r to calm the troubled foul; Its name Jripenthe ; fwains, on defert ground, Do often glean it, elfe but rarely found ; i'his in the bowl he mix'd ; and foon we found, in foft oblivion, all our forrows drown'd : We felt no more the agonies of care, And hope, iucceeding, dawn'd upondefpair. From morn we feafled, till the .Dotting ray Retir'd, and ev'ning fhades expelTd the day ; Then in the dark receffes of the cave, To flumber foft, our willing limbs we gave : But ere the morning, from the eaft, appear'd, And fooner than the early lark is heard, ,

Cleon awak'd, my carelefs flumber broke, And bending to my ear, in -.vhifpers fpoke : Dien-ices \ while (lumbering thus fecure, We think not what our citizens endure. [pears 1 he woril the figns have threatcn'd, nought ap~ With happier afpeft to difpel our fears ;

EPIGONIAt), BOOK VII.

Alcides lives not, and his friend in vain To arms \ve call, while auguries refirain: Returning thus, we bring the Theban ftate But hopes dcceiv'd, and omens of her fate: Better luecefs our labours fhall attend, Nor all our aims in difappointment end ; If you approve my purpofe, nor diffuade What now I counfel for your country's aid. Soon as the fun difplays his early beam, The arms of great Alcides let us claim ; Then for Bceotia's fhores direct our fails ; And force muft fecond if perfuafion fails : Againft reproach neceffity fhall plead ; Cenfurc confute, and juflify the deed.

The hero thus, and ceas'd : with pity mov'd, And zeal for Thebes, I rafhly thus approv'd. You counfel well ; but prudence would advife To work by cunning rather, and furprife, Than force declar'd ; his venom'd fhaftsyou know, Which fly refiftlefs from th' Herculean bow ; A fafe occafion now the filent hour Of midnight yields ; when, by the gentle pow'r Of carelefs flumber bound, the hero lies, Our neceffary fraud will 'fcape his eyes ; Without the aid of force fhall reach its aim,. With danger lefs incurr'd, and lefs of blame.

I counfell'd thus ; and Cleon ftraight approv'd. Tn filence from the dark recefs we mov'd ; Towards the hearth, with wary fteps, we came, The afhes ftirr'd, and rous'd the flumb'ring flame. On every fide in vain we turn'd our eyes, lv!or, as our hopes had promis'd, found the prize : Till to the couch where Philo6letes lay, The quiver led us by its filver ray ; For in a panther's fur together ty'd, His bow and fhafta, the pillow's place fupply'd ; Thither I went with careful ftcps and flow ; And by degrees obtain'd th* Herculean bow : The quiver next to difcngage eflay'd ; It iluck entangled, but at laft obey'd. The prize obtain'd, we haften to the ftrad, And roufe the mariners and ftraight command The canvafs to unfurl : a gentle gale Favour'd our con vie, and tiil'd the fwelling fail : The fhores retii'd ; and when the morning ray Afcended, from the deep, th' ethereal way ; Upon the right Cenaeum's beach appear'd. And Pelion on the left his fummit rear'd.

mam,

Like mountains rifing on the wat'ry plain, The clouds colle&ed on the billows flood, And, with incumbent fhade, obfcur'd the flood. Thither a current bore us ; foon we found A night of vapour clofing faft around. Loofe hung the empty fail -. we ply'd our oars, And ftrove to reach Eubcea's friendly fhores ; But ftrove in vain : for erring from the courfe, In mazes wide, the rower fpent his force. i> ven days and nights we try'd fome port to gain, Where Greek or barb'rous fhores exclude the

main ;

But knew not, whether backwards or before, Or on the right or left to feek the fhore : Till, rifing on the eighth, a gentle breeze Prove the light fog, and brulh'd the curling feas.

Our canvafs to its gentle pow'r we fpread, And fix'd our oars, and follow'd as it led. Before us foon, impending from above, Through parting clouds, we faw a lofty grove, Alarift'd, the fail we flacken, and explore The deeps and fhallows of the unknown fhoro. Near on the right a winding creek appear'd, 1 hither, direcTed by the pole, we fteer'd ; And landed on the beach, by fate mifled, Nor knew again the port from which we fled. The gods themfelves deceiv'd us : to our eyea New caverns open, airy cliffs arife ; That Philo&etes might again poflefs His arms, and heav'n our injury redrefs.

The unknown region purpos'd to explore, Cleon, with me alone, forfakes the Ihore ; Back to the cave we left by angry fate Implicitely conducted, at the gate The injur'd youth we found ; a thick difguife His native form conceai'd, and mock'd our eyes; For the black locks in waving ringlets fpread, A wreath of hoary white involv'd his head, Beneath a load of years, he feem'd to bend, His breaft to fink, his fhoulders to afcend. He faw us ftraight, and, rifing from his feat, tegan with fharp reproaches to repeat Our crime; but could not thus fufpicion give; So ftrong is error, when the gods deceive ! We queftion'd of the country as we came, By whom inhabited, und what its name ; How far from Thebes: that thither we were

bound ;

And thus the wary youth our error found. Smooth'd to deceive, his accent ftraight he turn'd, While in his breaft the thirft of vengeance burn'd: And thinking now his bow and fhaits regain'd, Rcply'd with hofpitable kindneis feign'd ; On Ida's facred height, my guefts! you Hand ; Here Priam rules, in peace, a happy land. Twelve cities own him> on the Phrygian plain, Their lord, and twelve fair iflands on the main. From hence to Thebes in feven days fpace you'll fail, If Jove propitious fends a profp'reus gale. But now accept a homely meal, and deign To fhare what heav'n affords a humble fvvain.

He faid; and brought a bowl with Tintage

fill'd,

From berries wild, and mountain grapes diftill'd, Of largeft fize ; and plac'i it on a rock, Under the covert of a fpreading oak ; Around it autumn's mellow ftores he laid, Which the fun ripens in the woodland fhade. Our thirft and hunger thus at once allay 'd, To Cleon turning, Philo&etes faid : The bow you wear, of fuch unufual fize, With wonder ftill I view, and curious eyes ; For length, for thicknefs, and the workman's art, Surpafline all I've feen in ev'ry part.

Diffembling, thus inquir'd the wary youth, And thus your valiant fon declar'd the truth : Father ! the weapon which you thus commend, 1 he force of great Alcides once did bend ; [du'd, Thefe fhafts the fame which monfters fierce fub- And law lefs men with vengeance juft purfu'd.

The hero thus ; and Poean's fon again : What now I afk, refufe not to explain : Whether the hero ftill exerts his might, For innocence opprefs'd, and injur'd right }

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

Or yields to fate ; and with the mighty dead, From toil repofes in the Elyfian fhade ! Sure, if he liv'd, he would not thus forgo His (hafts invincible and mighty bow, By which, he oft immortal honour gain'd For-wrongs redrefs'd and lawlefs force reftrain'd.

The rage fupprefs'd which in hisbofom burn'd, He queftion'd thus ; and Cleon thus return'd : What we have heard of Hercules, I'll fliow What by report we learn'd, and what we know. From Thebes to Oeta's wildernefswe went, With fupplications, to the hero, fent From all our princes ; that he would exert His matchlefs valour on his country's part, Agatuft whofe ftate united foes conipire, And waile her wide domain with fword and fire. There on the cliffs which bound the neighb'ring

main,

We found the manfion of a lonely fwain ; Much like to this, but that its rocky mouth The cooling north refpecls, as this the fouth ; And, in a corner of the cave conceal'd, The club which great Alcides us'd to wield. Wrapt in his fhaggy robe, the lion's fpoils, The mantle whkh he wore in all his toils. At ev'n a hunter in the cave appear'd ; From whom the fate of Hercules we heard. He told us that he faw the chief expire, That he himfelf did light his fun'ral fire ; And boafted, that the hero had refign'd To him, this bow and quiver, as his friend : Oft feen before, thefe deadly fhafts we know, And tip'd with ftars of gold th' Herculean bow : But of the hero's fate, the tale he told, Whether 'tis true I cannot now unfold.

He fpoke. The youth with indignation burn'd, Yet calm in outward femblance, thus return'd : I muft admire the man who could refign To you thefe arms fo precious and divine, Which, to the love of fuch a friend, he ow'd, Great was the gift if willingly beftow'd : By force they could not eafily be gain'd, And fraud, 1 know, your gen'rous fouls difdain'd.

Severely fmiling, thus the hero fpoke ; With confcious fhame we heard, nor filence broke : And thus again : The only boon I claim, Which, to your hoft deny'd, would merit blame ; Is, that my hands that weapon may embrace, And on the flaxen cord an arrow place ; An honour which I covet; though we mourn'd, By great Alcides, once our ftate o'erturn'd : When proud Laomedon the hero brav'd, Nor paid the ranfom for his daughter fav'd.

Diffembling thus, did Philodtetes ftrive His inftruments of vengeance to retrieve : And, by the fates deceiv'd, in evil hour, The bow and fhafts we yielded to his pow'r, In mirthful mood, provoking him to try Whether the weapon would his force obey ; For weak he feem'd, like thofe whofe nerves have loft, [boaft.

Through age, the vigour which in youth they The belt around his fhoulders firft he flung, And glitt'ring by his fide the quiver hung : Comprefs'd with all his force the flubborn yew He bent, and from the cafe an arrow drew ; And yielding to his rage, in furious mood, With aim. dire<St agaiplt us full he ftogd,

For vengeance arm'd ; and now the thick difguife,

Which veil'd his form before, and mock'd our eyes,

Vanifh'd in air ; our error then appear'd;

I faw the vengeance of the gods, and fear'd.

Before him to the ground my knees I bow'd,

And, with extended hands, for mercy fu'd.

But Cleon, fierce and fcorning to entreat,

His weapon drew, and rufh'd upon his fate :

For as he came, the fatal arrow flew,

And from his heart the vital current drew ;

Supine he fell ; and, welling from the wound,

A tide of gore impurpled all the ground.

The fon Poean {looping drew the dart,

Yet warm with (laughter, from the hero's heart ;

And turn'd it full on me : with humble pray'r

And lifted hands, I mov'd him flill to fpare.

At laft he yielded, from his purpofe fway'd,

And anfw'ring thus in milder accents, faid:

No favour fure you merit ; and the caufe,

Of right infring'd and hofpitable laws,

Would juftify revenge ; but as you claim,

With Hercules, your native foil the fame ;

I now (hall pardon for the hero's fake,

Nor, though the gods approve it, vengeance take.

But ftraight avoid my prefence ; and unbind,

With fpeed, your flying canvafs to the wind :

For if again to meet thofe eyes you come,

No pray'rs {hall change, or mitigate your doom.

With frowning afpedl thus the hero faid, His threats I fear'd, and willingly obey'd. Straight in his purple robe the dead I bound, Then to my fhoulders rais'd him from the ground ; And from the hills defcending to the bay, Where anchor'd near the beach our galley lay, The reft conven'd, with forrow to relate This anger of the gods and Cleon's fate : The hero's fate his bold companions mourn'd, And ev'ry bread with keen refentment burn'd. They in their heady tranfports ftraight decreed, His fall with vengeance to requite or bleed. 1 fear'd the angry gods ; and gave command, With fail and oar, to fly the fatal ftrand ; Enrag'd and fad, the mariners obey'd, Unfurl'd the canvafs, and the anchor weigh'd. Our courfe, behind, the weftern breezes fped, And from the coaft with heavy hearts we fled. All day they favour'd, but with evening ceas'd; And ftraight a tempeft, from the ftormy eaft, In oppofition full, began to blow, And rear in ridges high the deep below. Againft its boift rous fway in vain we ftrove; Obliquely to the Thracian coaft we drove ; Where Pelion lifts his head aloft in air, With painted cliffs and precipices bare ; Thither our courfe we fteer'd, and on the ftrand Defcending, fix'd our cable to the land. There twenty days we ftay'd, and wifh'd in vain A favourable breeze, to crofs the main ; For with unceafing rage the tempeft rav'd, And o'er the rocky beach the ocean heav'd. At laft with care the hero's limbs we burn'd, And, water'd with our tears, his bones inurn'd. There, where a promontory's height divides, Extended in the deep, the parted tides, His tomb is feen, which, from its airy ftand, Marks to the mariner the diftant land.

This, princes ! is the truth ; and though the will Of heav'n, the ftv'reign caufe of good and ill.

EPIGONIAD, BOOK VII.

45

Has dafhM our hope?, and, for the good in view, "With griefs afflicts us and difafters new : Yet, innocent of all, I juftly claim To ftand exempt from punifliment or blame. That zeal for Thebes 'gainft hofpitable laws Prevailed, and ardour in my country's caufe, I freely have confefs'd ; but fure if wrong Was e'er permitted to inducement ftrong, This claims to be excus'd : our country's need, With all who hear it will for favour plead.

He ended thus. Unable to fubdue [drew : His grief: the monarch from the throne with in filent wonder fix'd, the reft remain'd ; Till Clytophon the gen'ral fenfe explain'd ;

Your juft defence, we mean not to refufe ; Your prudence cenfure, or your zeal accufe : To heav'n we owe the valiant Cleon's fate, With each difafter which afflidls the ftate. Soon as the fun forfakes the eaftern main, At ev'ry altar let a bull be (lain ; And Thebes aflembled, move the pow'rs to fpare, With vows of facrifice and humble pray'r : But now the night invites to fof: repofe, The momentary cure of human woes; The ftars defcend ; and foon the morning ray- Shall route us to the labours of the day. The hero thus. In filence all approv'd, And rifing, various, from th* aflernbly mov'd.

BOOK VIII.

BEHIND the palicc, where a ftream defcends,

Its lonely walks a fhady grove extends;

Once facred, now for common ufe ordain'd,

By war's wide licence and the axe profan'd:

Thither the monarch from th' aflernbly went

Alone, his fury and defpair to vent,

And thus to Heav'n : Dread pow'r ! whofe fove-

reign fway ,

The fates of men and mortal things obey ! From me expect not fuch applaufe to hear, As fawning vot'ries to thine altars bear ; But truth levere. Although the forked brand, Which for deftrixflion arms thy mighty hand, Were levell'd at my head ; a mind I hold, By prefent ills, or future, uncontrouPd. Beneath thy fway the race of mortals groan $ Felicity fincere is felt by none : Delufive hope th' unpra&is'd mind aflails, And, by ten thoufand treach'rous arts prevails : Through all the earth the fair deceiver ftrays, And wretched man to mifery betrays. Our crimes you punifli, never teach to fhun, When, blind to folly, on our fate we run : Hence fighs and groans thy tyrant reign confefs, With ev'ry rueful Cymptom of diftrefs. Here war unchain'd exerts his wafteful pow'r; Here famine pines ; difeafes there devour, And lead a train of all the ills that know To fliorten life, or lengthen it in woe. All men are curft ; but I, above the reft, With tenfold vengeance for my crimes opprefs'd : With hoftile pow'rs befet my tott'ring reign, The people wafted, and my children flain ; In fwfft appreach, I lee deftrudlion come, But, with, a mind unmov'd, I meet my doom ; For know, ftern pow'r ! whofe vengeance has

decreed

That Creon, after all his fons, fhould bleed ; As from the fummit of fome defert rock, The fport of tempefts, falls the leaflefs oak, Of all his honours ftript, thou ne'er flialt find, Weakly Yubmtfs, or ftupidly refign'd This dauntlefs heart ; but purpos'd to debate Thy ftern decrees, aud burft the chains of fate.

He faid ; and turning where the heralds ftand All night by turns, and wait their lord's command; Meneftheus there and Hegefander found) And Phaemius fage, for valour once renown'd, He charg'd them thus: Beyond the eaftern tow'rs, Summon to meet in arms our martial pow'rs. In filence let them move ; let figns command, And mute obedience reign through ev'ry band ; For when the eatt with early twilight glows, We rufli, from cover'd ambufh, on our foes Secure and unprepar'd : the truce we fwore, Our plighted faith, the feal of wine and gore, No ties I hold ; all piety difclaim : Adverfe to me the gods, and I to them. The angry Tnonarch thus his will declar'd; His rage the heralds fear'd, and ftraight repaired To roufe the warriors. Now the morning light Begins to mingle with the (hades of night : In ev'ry ftreet a glitt'ring ftream appears, Of polifh'd helmets mix'd with fluning fpears : Towards the eaftern gate they drive along, Nations and tribes, an undiftinguilh'd throng ? Creon himfelf fuperior, in his car, Receiv'd them coming, and difpos'd the war.

And now the Argives from their tents proceed, With rites fepulchral to entomb the dead. The king of men, amid the fun'ral fires, The chiefs afiembles, and the work infpires. And thus the Pelian fage, in council wife : Princes ! I view, with wonder and furprife, Yon field abandon'd, where the foe purfu'd Their fun'ral rites before, with toil renew'd : Nor half their dead interr'd, they now abftain, And fiience reigns through all the fmoky plain, Thence jealoufy and fear poflefs my mind Of faith infring'd, and treachery deGgn'd : Behind thofe woody heights, behind thofe tow'rs, I dread, in ambuflilaid, the Theban pow'rs; With purpofe to affault us, when they know That we, confiding, leaft expect a foe : Let half the warriors arm, and ftand prepar'd, For fudden violence, the hoft to guard ; While, in the mournful rites, the reft proceed, Due to the honour'd relics of the dead.

THE WORKS OF WILKIJE.

Thus as he fpoke ; approaching from afar, The hoftile pow'rs, embattled for the war, Appeajr'd ; and ftreaming from their polifh'd

(hields,

A blaze of fplendour brlghten'd all the fields. And thus the king of men, with lifted eyes, And both his hands extended to the fkies : Ye pow'rs fupreme 1 whofe unrefifted fway The fate of men and mortal things obey I Let all the plagues, which perjury attend, At once, and hidden, on our foes defcend : Let not the facred feal of wine and gore, The hands we plighted, and the oaths we fwore, Be now in vain ; but from your bright abodes, Confound the bold defpifers of the gods.

He pray'd ; and nearer came the hoftile train, With fwift approach advancing on the plain ; Embattled thick, as when, at fall of night, A fliepherd, from fome promontory's height, Approaching from the deep, a fog defcries, Which hov'ring lightly o'er the billows flies; By breezes borne, the folid foon it gains, Climbs the fteep hills, and darkens all the

plains i

Silent and fwift the Theban pow'rs drew near; The chariots led, a phalanx clos'd the rear.

Confufion ftraight through ail the hoft arofe, Stirr'd like the ocean when a tempeft blows. Some arm for fight ; the reft to terror yield, Inactive ftand, or trembling quit the field. On ev'ry fide, affaults the deafen'd ear The difcordloud of tumult, rage, and fear. Superior in his car, with ardent eyes, The king of men through all the army flies : The rafli reftrains, the cold with courage fires, And all with hope and confidence infpires ; As when the deep, in liquid mountains hurl'd, AfiauUs the rocky limits of the world : When tempefts with unlicenc'd fury rave, And fweep from Ihore to more the flying wave : If he, to whom each pow'r of ocean bends, To quell fuch uproar, from the deep afcends, Serene, amid ft the wat'ry war, he rides, And fixes, with his voice, the moving tides : Such fcem'd the monarch. From th' Olympian

height,

The martial maid precipitates her flight ; To aid her fav'rite hoft the goddefs came, Mentor fhe feem'd, her radiant arms the fame ; Who with Ulyffes brought a chofen band Of warriors from the Cephalenian ftrand ; Already arm'd, the valiant youth (he found, And arming for the fight his warriors round. And thus began : Brave prince ! our foes appear For battle order'd, and the fight is near. Dauntlefs they come fuperior and elate, W T hile fear unmans us, and refigns to fate. Would fome immortal from th' Olympian height Dfecend, and for a moment ftQp the fight ; From fad dejection rous'd, and cold delpair, We yet might arm us, and for war prepare ; But if on human aid we muft depend, Nor hope to fee the fav'ring gods defcend, Great were the hero's praife, who now could boaft From ruin imminent to fave the, hoft ! The danger near fome prompt eKpedient claims, And prudence triumphs oft in vvorfl extremes.

Thus, in a form aflum'd, the martial re aid 3 The. generous warrior, thus replying, faid : In youth, I cannot hope to win the praife, With which experience crowns a length of

days:

Weak are the hopes that on my court felt ftand, To combats, nor practis'd in command : But as the gods, to fave a finking ftate, Or fnatch an army from the jaws of fate, When prudence ftandi confounded, oft fug jeft A prompt expedient to fome vulgar breaft ; To your discerning ear I fhall expofe What now my mind excites me todifclofe. Sav'd from th' unfinuVd honours of the flain. The mingled fpoils of forefts load the plain : In heaps contiguous round the camp th;y lie, A fence too weak to ftop the enemy : But if we mix them with the feeds of fire, Which unextinguiuYd glow in ev'ry pyre, Againft the foe a fudden wall ftiall rife, Of flame and fmoke afcending to the fkies : The fteed difmay'd fliail backward hurl the car ; Mix with the phalanx, and confound the war.

He faid. The goddefs, in her confcious breaft, A mother's triumph for a fon poITefs'd, Who emulates his fire, in glorious deeds, And, with his virtue, to his fame fucceeds : Graceful the goddefs turn'd, and with a voice, Bold, and fuperior to the vulgar noice, O'er all the iield commands the woods to fire j Straight to obey a thoufands hands confpire. On ev'ry fide the fprtading flame extends, And, roU'd in cloudy wreaths, the fmoke afcendi.

Creon beheld, enrag'd to be withftood : Lik? fome fierce lion when he meets a flood Or trench defenfive, which his rage reftrains For flocks unguarded, left by carelefs fwains; O'er all the field he fends his eyes afar, To mark fit entrance for a pointed war: Near on the right a narrow fpace he found, Where fun'ral aihes fmok'd upon the ground* Thither the warriors of the Theban hoft, Whofe martial (kill he priz'd and valour moft, The monarch fent, Chalcidamus the ftrong, Who from fair Thefpia led his martial throng, Where Helicon erects his verdant head, And crowns the champaign with a lofty fliade : Oechalia's chief was added to the band, For valour fam'd and ilcilful in command ; Eritheus, with him, his brother came, Of worth unequal, and unequal fame. Rhefus, with thefe, the Thracian leader, went. To merit fame, by high atchievements, bent; Of ftature tall, he fcorns the pointed fpear, And crufhes with his mace the ranks of war : With him twelve leaders of his native train, In combats, taught the bounding fteed to rein, By none furpaiYd who boaft fuperior fkill To fend the winged arrow fwift to kill, Mov'd to the fight. The retl of vulgar name, Though brave in combat, were unknown to fame.

Their bold invafion dauntlefs to oppofe, Full in the raid ft the bulk of Ajax role ; Unarm'd he ftood ; but, in his mighty hand, Brandim'tl, with getlure fierce, a burning brand, Snatch'd from the afhes of a fun'ral fire ; An olive s trunk, fi/s cubit lengths entire.

EPIC ONI AD, BooKVUt.

Arm^d for the fight, the Cretan monarch Hood j And Merion, thinling ftiil with hofhile blood ; The prince of Ithaca, with him wko led The youth, in Sicyon, and Pellene, bred. But ere they clos'd, the Thracian leader prefs'd, With eager courage, far before the reft ; Him Ajax met, inflam'd with equal rage : Between the wond'ring hofts the chiets engage: Their weighty weapons round their heads they

throw,

And fwift, and heavy falls each thund'ring blow ; As when in ^EtnVs caves the giant brood, The one-ey'd fervants of the Lemnian god, In order round the burning anvil Itand, And forge, with weighty ftrokes, the forked brand: The ih;'.king hills their fervid toil confefs, And echoes rattling through each dark recefs : SB rag'd the fight; their mighty limbs they

ftrain ;

And oft their pond'rous maces fall in vain: For neither chief was deftin'd yet to bleed ; But fate at laft the victory decreed. The Salaminian hero aim'd a (troke, Which thund'ring on the Thracian helmet broke ! Stunn'd- by the boiil'rous Ihock, the warrior

reel'd

With giddy poife, then funk upon the field. Their leader to defend, his native train With fpeed advance, and guard him on the plain. Againft his foe, their threat'ning lances rife, And aim'd at once, a ftorm of arrows flies; Around the chief on ev'ry tide they ling ; One in his flioulder fix'd its barbed fting. Amaz'd he flood, nor could the fight renew: But flow and Cullen from the foe withdrew. Straight to the charge Idoraeneus proceeds, With hardy Merion try'd in martial deeds, Laertes' valiant fon, and he who led The youth in Sicyon, and Pellene, bred ; With force united, thefe the foe fuftain, And wafteful havoc loads the purple plain: In doubtful poife the fcales of combat fvvay'J, And various fates alternately obey'd. [foe,

But now the flames, which barr'd th 1 invading Sunk to the wafted wood, in aflies glow : Thebes rufties to the fight ; their polim'd fhields Glam through the fruoke, and brightens all the

fields ;

Thick fly the embers, where the courfers tread, And cloudy volumes all the welkin Ihnde. The king of men, to meet the tempeft, fires His wav'ring bands, and valour thus infpire*. Gods ! (hall one fatal hour deface the praile Of all our (leeplefs nights, and bloody days ? Shall no jiift meed for all our toils remain ? Our labours, blood, and victories in vain ? Shall Creon triumph, and his impious brow Claim the fair wreath, to truth and valour due? No, warriors ! by the heav'nly pow'rs, is weigh'd Juftice with wrong, in evjual balance laid : From Juve's high roof depend th' eternal icales, Wrong mounts defeated (till, and right prevails. Fear theu no odds; on heav'n itfelf depend, Which falfehood will confound, an 1 tnuh defend

He faid ; and fudden in the (hock theyclofe, Their fliields and helmets ring with inutua

)iforder dire the mingling ranks confounds, And fliouts of triumph mix with dying founds; As fire, with wafteful conflagration fpreads, And kindles, in its courfe, the woodland (hades, When, fliooting fudden from the clouds above, On fome thick foreft fall the flames of Jove ; The lofty oaks, the pines and cedars burn, Their verdant honours all to aflies turn ; l.oud roars the temped ; and the trembling fwains See the wide havoc of the wafted plains: Such feem'd the conflict ; fuch the dire alarms, From fhouts of battle inix'd with din of arms. \ I /'hericles firft, Lycaon's valiant fon. The fage whofe counfels propp'd the Thcba

throne,

Rofe in the fight, fuperior to the reft, / i,O

And brave Democleon's fall his might confed'd* The chief and leader of a valiant band, ;s. J "J From fair Eione and th' Afinian ftrand. Next Afius, Iphitus, and Crates fell ; Terynthian Podius trodethe path of hell : And Schedius, from Mazeta's fruitful plain, Met there his fate, and perifh'd with the fliin. Aw'd by. their fall, the Argrve bands give way ; As yields fome rampart to the ocean's (way, When rous'd to rage, it fcorns oppofing mounds, And fweeps victorious through forbidden ground*.

But Pallas, anxious for her rav'ritc hoft, Their beft already wounded, many loft, UlxfToi fought : me found him, in the rear, Wounded and faint, and loaning x>ri his fpear. And thus in Mentor's form: Brave prince ! I dread Our hopes defeated, and our fall decreed : For conqu'ring on the right the foe prevails, And all defence againft their fury fails,; While here, in doubtful poife, the battle fways, And various fates alternately obeys ; In great Tydides, who beholds from far Our danger imminent, yet (huns the war, Held by refcntment, or forae caufe unknjwn, Regardlefs of our fafety and his own, Would rile to aid us; yet we might refpirc, And Creon, fruftrated, again retire. Great were his praife, who could the chief, per^

fuade,

In peril fo extreme, the hoft, to aid. The fitted you, who boaft the happy (kill, With pleating words, to move the fixed will* Though Neftor juftly merits equal fame, A friend the fooneft will a friend reclaim. And thus Ulyfies to the martial maid : I cannot hope the hero to perfuade : The fource unknown from which his rag pro*

ceeds,

Reafon in vain from loofe conjecture pleads ; The fatal truce, with faithlefs Creon made, ;v> Provokes him not, nor holds him from our aid ; He eaiily refign'd whate'er he mov'd, Till now approving as the reft approvM, Some dire difafter, fome d'fgrace nnfeen, Confounds his fteady temper, elfe ferene : But with my utmoft fearch,.I'U ftrive to find The fecret griefs which wound his gen'rous mfnd; If drain'.i of blooJ, and fpent with toils of war, My w, ary limbs can bear their load fo far.

rie fpoke ; his words the martial maid admir'd ; ) With energy divioe his breait iuipir'd j

4 THE WORKS

Lightly the hero mov'd, and took his way Where broad encamp'd th' ^Etdian warriors lay Already arm'd he found the daring band, Fierce and impatient of their lord's command ; Some, murm'ririg, round the king's pavilio

flood,

While others, more remote, complain'd aloud : With pleafing words he footh'd them as he wen And fought their valiant leader in his tent : Him pond'ring deep in his diftradled mind, He found, and fitting fad, with head declin'd. He thus addrefs'tl him : Will the news I bring, Afflict, or gratify, th' JEtolian king ? " That wav'ring on the brink of foul defeat, Without the hopes of fuccefs or retreat, Our valiant bands th' unequal fight maintain ; Their beft already wounded, many flain.'* If treach'rous Thebes has brib'd you with he ftorie, [fwore

And bought the venal faith which once you Has promisjd precious-ore, or lovely dames, And pays toluft the price which treafon claims : Name but the proffers of the perjur'd king, And more, and better, from your friends I'l

bring ;

Vaft fums of precious ore, and greater far Than Thebes, in peace, had treafur'd for the war ; Or, though, to gratify thy boundlefs mind, Her private wealth and public were combin'd. If beauty's pow'ryour am'rous heart inflames, UnrivalPd are Achaia's lovely dames ; Her faireft dames Adraftus fhall beftow, And purchafe thus the aid you freely owe. Gods ! that our armies e'er fliould need to fear Deftruclion, and the fon of Tydeus near !

Ulyfles thus j and Tydeus' ion again : Your falfe reproaches aggravate my pain Too great already : in my heart I feel Its venom'd fting, more fharp than pointed fleel No bribe perfuades, or promife from the foe, My oath to vi'late, and the war forego : In vain for this were all the precious (tore, Which trading Zidon wafts from more to fliore ; With all that rich Iberia yet contains, Safe and unrifled in her golden veins. The fource from which my miferies arife, The caufe, which to the hoft my aid denies, With truth I fball relate ; and hope to claim Your friendly fympathy, for groundlefs blame. In yonder walls a captive maid remains, To me more dear than all the world contains ; Fairer me is than nymph was ever fair; Pallas in Mature, and majeftic air; As Venus foft, with Cynthia's fprightly grace, When on Tatgetus fhe leads the chafe, Or Erymanthus ; while in fix'd amaze, At awful diftance heard, the fatyrs gaze. With oaths divine our plighted faith we bound ; Hymen had foon our mutual wifhes crown'd ; When, call'd to arms, againit the Theban tow'rs, From Calydon lied my martial pow'rs. Her female form in martial arms conceal'd, With me (he brav'd the terrors of the field : Unknown and unrewarded, from my fide No toil could drive her, and no fhock divide. But now proud Theb: s injunoufly detains* The lovely virgin, luck'd in hoftile chains ;

OF WILKIE.

Doom'd, and referv'd to perifh, for my fakey If of your counfels, I, or works, partake ; Till twenty mornings in the eaft fhall rife, And twenty ev'nings gild the weftern Odes. See then the caufe which holds me, and confines My arm, to aid you, though my heart inclines ; Love mix'd with pity, whofe reftraints I feel Than adamant more ftrong, and links of fteeL.

The hero thus. Laertes' fon reply 'd : Oft have I heard what now is verify'd ; That ftill when paffion reigns without controul, Its fway confounds and darkens all the foul. If Thebes, by perjury, the gods provok'd, The vengeance flighted, by themlelves invok'd; Aflaulted us, fecure, with hoftile arms, And mix'd our* pious rites with dire alarms : With better faith, by faithlefs Creon fway'd, Will they at laft relrore the captive maid ? When, from their battlements and lofty fpires, They fee their champaign fhine with hoftile fires ; And, pitch'd around them, hofts of armed foes, With ftricl embrace, their ftraiten'd walls enclofe: The gods they fcorn as impotent and vain : What will they do, when you alone remain ? Our princes fall'n, the vulgar warriors fled, Shall to your tent the captive fair be led ? Or rather muft you fee her matchlefs charms R.eferv'd to blefs foaae haplefs rival's arms ; While rage and jealoufy divide your breaft, S T o prefent friend to pity, or affift ? STow rather rife : and, ere it is too late, lefcue our armies from impending fate. The captive maid uninjur'd you'll regain ; r orce oft obtains what juftice afks in vain. With fuccefs thus your wifhes fhall be crown'd, Which trufl in Thebes would fruftrate and con found,

Ulyfles thus : his weighty words inclin'd, ng tortur'd with fufpenfe, the hero's mind ; As fettling winds the moving deep controul, And teach the wav'ring billows how to roll : traight from his feat th' ^Itolian warrior rofe; lis mighty limbs the martial greaves enclofe ; His breaft and thighs in polifh'd fleel he drefs'd ; A plumed helmet next his temples prefs'd : "rom the broad baldric, round hi sfhoulders flung, lis fhining fword and ftarry faulchion hung : 'he fpear he laft aflum'd, and pond'rous fhield, Vith martial grace, and iflu'd to the field : To mingle in the fight, with eager hafte [e rufh'd, nor call'd his warriors as he paft. lyffes thefe conven'd ; his prudent care Their ranks difpos'd, and led them to the war* Afar diilinguifh'd by his armour bright, /ith fhouts Tydides rous'd the ling'ring fight ; trough all the hoft his martial voice retbunds. And ev'ry heart with kindling ardour bounds ; As when the fun afcends, with gladfome ray, 'o light the weary trav'ller on his way j r cheer the mariner by tempeft tofs'd midft the dangers of fome per'lous coaft : o to his wifhing friends Tydides came ; 'heir danger fuch before, their joy the fame. Phericles faw ; and, fpringing from the throng, ll'd the bold Thebans, as he rufh'd along : r e gen'rous youths ! whom fair Boeotia breeds, 'he nurfe of valour and heroic deeds :

Let not, though oft ronew'd. thefe tedious toils Your martial ardour quench, and damp your fouls. Tydides comes ; and leads i" armour bright, His native bands, impatient for the fight : Myfelf the firft the hero's arm (hall try, And teach you how to conquer, or to die. We ftrive not now, as when, in days of peace, Some prince's hymeneal rites to grace, In lifted fields bedew'd with fragrant oil, In combat feign'd, the mimic warriors toil ; Alike the victors, and the vanquilh'd fare, And genial feafts, to both, conclude the war : We now muft conquer : or it (lands decreed That Thebes (hall periih, and her people bleed. No hopes of peace remain ; nor ran we find New pods to witnefs, or new oaths to bind, The firft infring'd : and therefore muft prepare To (tand or perifh by the lot of war : Then let us all undaunted brave our fate : To (top is doubtful, oielp'rate to retreat-

The hero thus; and to the battle led : Like Mars, he feem'd, in radiant armour clad, Tow'ring fublime : behind his ample (hieid He mov'd to meet Tydides on the field : As when at noon, descending to the rills, Two herds encounter, from the neighbouring hills : Before the reft, the rival bulls prepare, With aw nil preiude, for th' approaching war ; With defp'rate horns they plough the fmoking

ground ;

Their hideous roar the hollow caves refound ; Heav'd o'er their backs the (treamingfand afcends; Their ftern encounter both the herds fufpcnds: So met the chiefs ; and inch amazement quell'd The reft, and in fufpenfe the combat held. Tydides firft his weighty weapon threw, Wide of the mark with erring force it flew. Phericles ! thine fucceeds with happier aim, Full to the centre of the fhield it came : D But (lightly join'd, unequal to the ftroke, Short from the fteel, the liaffin (plinters broke. With grief Tydides faw his aim deceiv'd ; From off the field a pond'rous rock he heav'd'; With figures rude of antique fculpture grac'd, It mark'd the rcliques of a man deceas'd ; Pufti'd at his foe the weighty mafs he flung;, Thund'ring it fell; the Theban helmet rung': Deep with the brain the dinted fteel it mix'd, And lifelefs, on the ground, the warrior fix'd \

Aw'd by his fall, the Theban bands retire ; As flocks defencelefs fhun a lion's ire ; At once they yield, unable to withltand The wide deftruclion of Tydides' haril. Diforder foon, the form of war confounds, And fhouts of triumph mix with dying ft u:ids. Creon perceiv'd, where ruling on the right In equal poife he held the fcales of fight,. Blafpheming heav'n, he impioufiy refign'd, To ftern difpair, his unfubmitting mind : Yet, vers'd in all the various turns of fate, The bride afiault to rule, or fafe retreat, VOL. XL

EPIGONIAD, BooKVIII. 49

He drew his firm battalions from the foe,

In martial order, regularly flow.

The Argive leaders, thnnd'ring in the rear,

Still forwards on the yielding (quadrons bear :

The (trife with unabated fury burns,

They ftop, they combat, and retreat by turns;

As the grim lion fourly leaves the plains,

By dogs compeil'd, and bands of armed fvvains j

Indignant to his woody haunts he goes,

And with retorted glare reftrafns his foes.

Meanwhile Tydides, near the Cadmean gate, Urg'd with inccrFaut toil the work of fate; Towards the walls, an undiftinguilh'd throng, The viclors and the vanquiflrd, rufti'd along. Accefs to bo'.h the guarded wall denies ; From ev'ry tow'r, a ftorm of jav'lins flies j Thick as the hail defcends, when Boreas flings The rattling te-npelt from his airy wings: So thick the jav'hr.s fell, arid pointed fpears; behind them clofe, another hoft appears, In order'd columns. rang'd, by Creon led : U! y^es faw ; and thus to Diomed : Boid as you are, avoid thefe guarded tow'fs ! From loofe purfuit recal your fcatter'd pow'rs : See Creon comes ; his thick embattled train, In phalanx join'd, approaches from the plain. Mere if -we it ay th' unequal fight to prove, The tow'rs and ramparts threaten from above With darts and fton<s ; while to th' invading foe, In order loofe, our fcatter'd ranks we (how ; Nor by .your ma.tchlefs valour hope, in vain, Such o3cls to conquer, and the fight maintain j Againft an army (ingle force mult lofe ; Immod'rate courage (till like folly mows. See where into the field yon turret calls, Drawn to a point the long-extended walls: There force your way, and fpeedily regain The fpace, and fafety of the open plain.

Ulyfles thus ; and by his prudence fway'd, The martial Ion of Tydeus ftrait obey'd. Thrice to the height the hero rais'd his voice. Loud as the lilver trumpet's martial noife, The fignal of retreat ; his warriors heard, And round their chief in order'd ranks appear'd, Drawn from the mingled tumult of the plain; As, fever'd on the flour, the golden grain Swells to a heap ; while, whirling through the

fkies,

The dufty chaff in thick diforder flies ; Tydides leads ; .between the guarded tow'rs And noftile ranks, he draws his martial pow'rs Towards the plain; as mariners, wuh oar And fail, avoid fome promontory's fhore ; When caught between the ocean and the land, A fudden tempcft bears them on the ftrand; The ftem oppofing to its boift'rous fway, They mun the cape and ft retch into the bay : So 'fcap'd Tydides. Cover'd by their tow'rs/ In fafety ft'ood retir'd the Theban poxv'rs, For from above an iron temped rain'd, And the incurfions of the foe reftrain'd.

THE WORKS OF W*LKI.

BOOK IX.

Arfu now the king of men liis 4rmy calls, Back from the danger of th* impending walls; They quit the combat, and in order long The field poflefs, a phalanx deep and ftrong. Rank following rank, the Theban fquadrons tntfVe Still to the rampart, and the tow'rs above: Creon himfelf, unwilling-, quits the field, Enrag'd, defeated, and conftrain'd to yield, ^Jainft all his foes his indignation burns, IBut firft on Diomed its fury turns. He call'd a vulgar warrior from the crowd, A villain dark, and try'd in works of blood, Erembus nam'd, of huge gigantic fize, "With cloudy features mark d, and downcaft eyes ; Cold and inactive (till in combat found, Nor wont to kindle at the trumpet's found ; 33ut bold in villany when pow'r commands; A weapon fitted for a tyrant's hands. And thus the wrathful monarch : take this fword, A fign, to all my fervants, from their lord ; And hither bring the fair ^Etolian's head ; I, who command you, will reward the deed : IBut let not pity or remorfe prevail ; Your own fhall anfwer, if in aught you fail. He faid ; the murd'rer, practis'd to obey, The royal fword reCeiv'd, and took his way Straight to the palace, \vhere the captive fair, Of hope bereft, and yielding to defpair, Lamenting fat. Their mutual griefs to blend, The queen and all the royal maids attend. And thus the queen : fair ftranger I ihall your

grief

All hopes rejeft of comfort and relief? Your woes I've meafor'd, all your forrows known; And find them light when balanc'd with my own. In one fad day my valiant fire I mourn'd ; My brothers fl?.in ; my native walls o'erturu'd ; Myfelf a captive deftin'd to fulfil, In fervile drudgery, a mafter's will ; Yet to a fall fo low, the gods decreed Thisenvy'd height of greatnefs to fuccced. The pow'rs above, for purpofes unknown, Oft raife the fall'n, and bring the 'lofty down ; Elude the vigilance of all our care: Our fureft hopes deceive, 'and motk defpair. l^et no defponding thoughts your mind poflefs, To banilh hope, the med'cine of diftrefs : For nine fhort days your freedom willreftore^ And break the bondage which you thus deplore. But I, alas ! unhappy ftill, muft mourn, Joys once poffefs'd, which never can return ; Four valiant fons, who perifh'd on the plain In this dire ftrife, a fifth on Oeta (lain: Thefe fliail return to blefs my eyes no morej The grave's dark rrranfion knoxvs not to reftore^ For time, which bids fo oft the folar ray Repeat, with light renew'd, th' ethereal way, And from the foil, by heat and varnal winds, IV fecond life the latent plant unbinds,

Again to flourifli, nurs'd by wholefome dews, Never to mortal man his life renews. Thefe griefs are fure ; but others ftill I fear ; A royal hufband loft, and bondage near ; Myfelf, my daughters, dragg'd by hoftile hands; Our dignity exchang'd for fervile bands: All this the gods may pijrpofe and fulfil ; And we with patience muft endure their will.

As thus Laodice her forrow try'd With fympathy to footh ; the maid reply'd : Great queen 1 on whom the fov'reign pow'rs

beftow

A gen'rous heart to feel another's woe ; Let ftill untouch'd through life your honours laft, With happier days to come for forrows paft 1 Yet ftrive not thus a hopelefs wretch to cheer, Whom fure conjecture leads the worft to fear. Shall Diomed a public caufe forego, His faithful friends betray, and truft a foe ? By treachery behold the hoft o'erthrown, Renounce the public intereft and his own ? Shall kings and armies, in the balance laid, Avail not to outweigh a fingle maid ? One, whom his fury falfely did reprove For crimes unknown, whofe only crime was love: No, fure ere this he triumphs in the field; Your armies to his matchlefs valour yield : And foon fubmitting to the fatal blow, ' This head muft gratify a vanquifh'd foe. If fymbols e'er the fecret fates explain,' If vifions do not always warn in vain, If dreams do ever true prognostics prove, And dreams, the fages fay, defcend from Jove, My fate approaches : late at dead of night : My veins yet freeze with horror and affright ! I thought that, all forfaken and alone, Penfive I wander'd far through ways unknown, A gloomy twilight, neither night nor day Frowri'd on my fteps, and fadden'd all the way : Long dreary vales I faw on ev'ry fide, And ca-verns finking deep, with entrance wide ; On ragged cliffs the blafted forefts hung ; Her baleful note the boding fcreech-owl fung. At laft, with many a weary ftep, I found This melancholy country's outmoft bound, An ocean vail : upon a cliff I flood, And faw, beneath me far, the fable flood ; No iflands rofe the dull espanfe to grace, And nottght was feen through all the boundlefs

fpace, But low-brow'd clouds, which on the billows

frowa'd,

And, in a night of (hade, the profpecl drown'd. The winds-, which f'eem'd around the cliffs to blow, With doleful cadence, utter'd founds of woe, Wafting, from ev'ry cave and dreary den, The wail of infants mix'd with groans of 'men : Amaz'd, on ev'ry fide my eyes I turn, And fee depending from the craggy bourn

Wretches unnumber'd ; fome

foil,

Some grafp'd the flipp'ry rock, with fruitlefs toil ; Some hung fufpended by the roots, which pafs Through crannies of the cliffs, or wither'd grafs. Still from the fteep they plung'd into the main ; As from the eyes defcends the trickling rain. Amaz'd I turn'd, and ftrove in vain to fly ; Thickets oppos'd, and precipices high To flop my flight : and, from the airy fteep, A temped fnatch'd, and hurl'd me to the deep. The fudden violence my (lumber broke ; The waves I feem'd to touch, and ftraight awoke. With fleep the vifion fled ; but, in my mind Imprinted deep, its image left behind. For had the frightful fcene which fancy drew, And what I feem'd to fuffer, all been true ; Had fate appear'd, in blackeft colours. drefs'd, No deeper had its horrors been imprefs'd. When thus the gods by certain fymbols warn> And fure, from dreams, their purpofes we learn, No blame I merit, that to fear relign'd, Fate's dread approach fits heavy on my mind.

Caffandra thus ; Laodice again : Futurity, in dreams, we feek in vain ; For oft, from thoughts difturb'd, fuch phantoms

rife,

As fogs from marfhes climb, to blot the (kies : With a dark veil, the cheerful face of day They fadden, and eclipfe the folar ray ; But foon in dews and foft-defcending rains, Fall to refrefti the mountains and the plains. For Diomed's offence you ne'er can bleed ; Favour^ your fex and innocence will plead, Ev'n, with the worft ; nor will a gen'rous foe His rage, in cruelty *od bafeneis (how. Now to the tow'rs I hade, to view from far The danger, or fuccels of this day's war. Let Clymene with me the wa^ls aicend ; The reft at home domeftic carts attend.

She ended thus ; and from her feat arofe ; The royal maid attends her, as (he goes Towards the wcftern gate ; where full to view Expos'd, the armies and the camp fhe knew. And now appear'd within the lofty gate, By Creon lent, the meflenger of fate. His (Lining blade, for execution bar'd, And afpect dark, his purpole ftraight declared. Alarm'd, at once the royal virgins rife, And, fcatt'ring, fill the dome with female cries : But, bolder from defpair, Caflandra ftaid, And to th' a (fa flirt thus, undaunted, faid : Approach ! divide this neck with deathful fteel, A tyrant's vafial no removfe mould feel.

Diomed ! let this example prove,

In man, that ftubborn honour conquers love : With weight fuperior, great ambition draws The fcale for glory, and a public caufe.

1 blame thee not for this ; nor will impeach A great example, which I could not reach : For had whole armies, in the balance laid,

And kings and mighty Hates with thee been

weigh'd,

And I the judge appointed to decree, They all had periflied to ranfom thee. Caffandra thus*; and for the blow prepar'd, With both, her hands her ihining neck (lie bar'd,

EPIGONIAD, BOOK IX. 51

the mould'ring, And round her head a purple garment roll'd,

I With leaves of filver mark'd, and flow'rs of gold. Rais'd for the ftroke, the glitteringfaulchion hung, And iwift defcending, bore the head along. A tide of gore, diffus'd in purple dreams, Daflies the wall, and o'er the pavemest fwims. Prbne to the ground the headlefs trunk reclines, And life, in long convulfive throbs, refigns.

Now on the open plain before the walls, The king of men the chiefs to council calls. And Diomed, with fecret griefs opprefs'd, Impatient, thus the public ear addrefs'd : Confed'rate kings ! and thou, whofe fov' reign hand Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command ! What holds us, and retrains our martial pow'rs ; While haughty Thebes infults us from her

tow'rs ?

In vain we conquer thus, and bleed in vain, If victory but yields the empty plain. Behind his walls, perfidious Creon lies, And fafely meditates a new furprife : When on the urn our pious tears we pour; Or mirth difarmsus, and the genial hour; Ne ; let us rather, now when fortune calls, With bold aflault, attempt to mount the walls; Myfelf the firft a chofen band fliall lead, Whe re yon low rampart finks into the mead : There will I gain the battlements, and lay, For others to fucceed, an open way, If bars of fteel have force their works to tear, Or, from their hinges heav'd the gates, can bear :

Tydides thus. His counfel to oppofe, The leader of the Cretan warriors rofe : Confed'rate kings ! and thou, whofe fov'reign hand Sways the dread fceptre of fupreme command 1 Let not Tydides now, with martial rage, In meatures hot and ra(h, the holt engage ; To fober reafon (lill let paflion yield, Nor here admit the ardour of the field : If Thebes could thus with one aflault be won, Her armies vanqutfli'd, and her walls o'erthrown! Could this one (ingle day reward our toil, So long endur'd, with victory and fpoil : No foldier in the ranks, no leader here, Would fliun the fight, or counfel to forbear. But if for victory, a foul defeat, With all the fliame and danger of retreat, Should be the iflue, which the wife mult dread, To ftop is better, fure, than to proceed. On yonder walls, and lofty turrets ftand, Not fav'd from (hameful flight, a heartlefeband, Who, defp'rate 'of their ftate> would foon forego Their laft defences, and admit a. foe ; But who, from fight recall'd, without difmay, A fafe retreat maintain'd, in firm array.' Secure they combat from protecting walls; Thrown from above each, weapon heavier falls; A;ainft fuch odds, can we the right maintain, And with a foe found equal on the plain ? Though we defift, no leader will bppofe That thus the fruits of victory we lofe ; When, pent within their battlements and tcw'rs, In narrow fpace, we hold the Theban pow'rs : f For oftner, than by arms, arc hods o'erthrowa By dearth and fkknefs, in a ftraiten'd town. He who can only wield the fword and fpear, Knows left than half the inftrumeuu of war,

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

Heart-gnawing hunger, enemy to life, Wide-wafting peftilence, and civil ftrife, By want inflam'd, to all our weapons claim Superior force, and ftrike with furer aim : With thefe, whoever arm'd to combat goes, Inftructed how to turn them on his* foes, Shall fee them foon laid proftrate on the ground, His aims accomplilh'd, and his wifhes crown'd. Our warriors, therefore, let us ftraight recal, Nor, by aifault, attempt to force the wall; JBut with a rampart, to the gates oppos'd, Befiege, in narrow fpace, our foes enclos'd.

The hero thus ; and, eager to reply, Tydides rofe : when on a turret high Creon appeared : Cafifandra's head, difplay'd Upon a lance's point, he held, and faid : Ye Argive warriors ! view the fign ; and know, That Creon never fails to quit a foe. This bloody trophy mark'd ; and if it brings Grief and defpair to any of the kings, Let him revenge it on the man who broke His faith, and dar'd my fury to provoke.

He ended thus. Tydides, as he heard, With rage diftracted, and defpair, appear'd. Long on the tow'r he fix'd his burning eyes ; The reft were mute with wonder and furprife ; But, to the council turning, thus at laft ; If any favour claim my merits paft ; If, by a prefent benefit, ye'd bind To future fervices a grateful mind ; Let what I urge, in council, now prevail, With hoftile arms yon rampart to afl'ail : Elfe, with my native bands, alone I'll try The combat, fix'd to conquer or to die.

The hero thus. Ulyfles thus exprefs'd The prudent dictates of his generous breaft : Princes ', mall dire contention ftill prefide In all bur councils, and the kings divide ? Sii^se, of the various ills that can diftrefs United armies, and prevent fuccefs, TJifcord is chief: where'er the fury drays, The parts fhe fevers, and the whole betrays. Now let Tydides lead his native pow'rs To combat, and affault the Theban tow'rs ; The reft, on various parts their forces fhow, By mock approaches to diftract the foe. If he prevails, to victory he leads ; And iafe behind him all the hoft fucceeds : If Jove forbids and all-decreeing fate, The field is open, and a fafe retreat.

Ulyfles thus. The princes all aflent ; Straight from the council through the hoft they

went,

Review'd its order, and in front difpos'd The {lingers, and the rear with bowmen clos'd ; Arming the reft with all that could avail, The tow'rs and battlements to fap or fcale. Tydides firft his martial fquadrons leads; Ulyfles, with his native band, fucceeds. Upon them, as they came, the Thebans pour A ftorm of jav'lins, (hot from ev'ry tow'r; As from the naked heights the feather'd kind, By bitter fhow'rs compell'd, and wint'ry wind, In clouds aflembled, from fome mountain's head, To flicker crowd, and dive into the (hade ; Such and fo thick the winged weapons flew, And many warriors wounded, many flew.

Now on their ranks, by forceful engines thrown, Springs, from the twifted rope, the pond'rous ftone, With wide deftruction through the hoft to roll, To mix diforder and confound the whole.

Intrepid ftill th' ^Etolian chief proceeds; And ftill Ulyfles follows as he leads. They reach'd the wall. Tydides, with a bound, Twice Urove in vain to mount it from the

ground.

Twice fled the foe; as, to the boift'rous fway Of fome proud billow, mariners give way ; Which, rous'd by tempefts, 'gainft a veffel bends Its force, and, mounting o'er the deck, afcends : Again he rofe : the third attempt prevail'd ; But, crumbling in his grafp, the rarnpart fail'd : For thunder there its fury had imprcfs'd, And loos'd a fhatter'd fragment from the reft. . Supine upon the earth the hero falls, Mix'd with the fmoke and ruin of the walls.. By difappointment chaff 'd> and fierce from pain, Unable, now the rampart to regain, lie tmn'd, and faw his native bands afar, By tear reftrain'd,*and ling'ring in the war. From Creon Untight and Thebes, his anger turns, And 'g-ainlt his mends, with equal fury, burns; As when, from fnows dilfolvM, or fudden rains> A torrent twells and roars along the plains; If, rifing to oppole its angry tide, In full career, it meets a mountain's fide ; In foaming eddies, backwards to its fource, It wheels, and rages with inverted courfe ; So turn'd at once, the fury, in his breaft, Againft Ulyfles, thus itfelf exprefs'd : Author accurs'd, and fource of all my woes! Friend more -pernicious than the worft of foes I By thy fuggeftions from my purpofe fway'd, I flew Gaffandra, and myfelf betray M ; Hence, lodg'd within this tortur'd breaft, remain* A fury, to inflict: eternal pains. I need not follow, with vindictive fpear, A traitor abfent, while a worfe is near ; Creon bat acted what you well foreknew, When me unwilling to the fight you drew. To you the firft my vengeance fhall proceed^ And then on Creon and myfelf fucceed : Such facrifice Cafiandra's ghoft demands, And fuch I'll offer with determin'd hands.

Thus as he fpoke, Ulyfles pond'ring ftood, Whether by art to footh his furious mood, Or, with a fudden hand, his lance to throw, Preventing, ere it fell, the threaten'd blow. But, gliding from above, the martial maid Between them ftood, in majefty difplay'd ; Her radiant eyes with indignation burn'd, On Diomed their piercing light fhe turn'd : And frowning thus : Thy frantic rage reftrain ; Elfe by dread Styx I fwear, nor fvvear in vain, ; That proof fliall teach you whether mortal might This arm invincible can match in fight. Is't not enough that he, whofe hoary hairs Still watch'd your welfare with a father's cares, Who dar'd, with zeal and courage, to withftand Your fatal phrenzy, perifh'd by your hand ? That, flighting ev'ry tie which princes know, You leagu'd in fecret with a public foe ? And, from your faith by fond affection fway'd, The kings, the army, and yourfelf betray'd ?

EPIGONIAD, BOOK IX.

Yet, ftill unaw'd, from fuch atrocious deeds, To more and worfe ydur defp'rate rage proceeds, And dooms to perifh, by a mad decree, The chief who fav'd alike the hoft and thee. Had Thebes prevail'd, and one decifive hour The victory had fix'd beyond thy pow'r ; Thefe limbs, ere now, had captive fetters worn, To infamy condemn'd, and hoftile fcorn ; While fair Caffandra, with her virgin charms, A prize decreed, had bleft fome rival's arms. Did not the worth of mighty Tydeus plead, Approv'd when living, and rever'd when dead, For favour to his guilty fon, and ftand A rampart to oppofe my vengeful hand ; You foon had found how mad it is to wage War with the gods, and tempt immortal rage. This Thebes fhall know, ere to the ocean's

ftreams

The fun again withdraws his fetting beams ; For now the gods content, in vengeance juft, For all her crimes, to mix her with the duft. The goddefs thus ; and turning to the field, Her deity in Mentor's form conceal'd : With courage new each warrior's heart infpires, And wakes again, in all their martial fires.

Confcious of wrong, and fpeechlefs from fur-

prife,

Tydides ftood, nor dar'd to lift his eyes, Of fate regardlefs; though from ev'ry tow'r, Stones, darts, and arrows fell, a mingled fhow'r : For awe divine fubdu'd him, and the fhame Which virtue fufFers frm the touch of blame. But to Ulyfies turning, thus at laft : Prince! can thy gen'rous love forget the paft ; And all remembrance banifh from thy mind, Of what my fury and defpair defign'd ? If you forgive me, ftraight our pow'rs recal Who fhun the fight, while I attempt the wall. Some prefent god infpires me ; for I feel My heart exulting knock the plated fteel : In brifker rounds the vital fpirit flies, And ev'ry limb with double force fupplies.

Tydides thus. Ulyffes thus again Shall heav'n forgive offences, man retain; Though' born to err, by jarring paffions tofs'd ? The beft, in good, no fteadinefs can boaft : No malice, therefore, in my heart fhall live ; To fin is human; human to forgive. But do not now your fingle force oppofe To lofty ramparts and an hoft of foes ; Let me at leaft, attending at your fide, Partake the danger, and the toil divide : For fee our pow'rs advancing to the flotm ! Pallas excites them in a mortal form. Let us, to mount the rampart, ftraight proceed; They of themfelves will fpllow as we lead.

Ulyfles thus ; and, fpringing from the ground, Both chiefs at once afcend the lofty mound. Before him each his {hilling buckler bears 'Gainft flying darts, arid thick portended fpears. Now, on the bulwark's level top they ttand, And charge on ev'ry fide the hoftile band: There many warriors in clofe fight they flew, And many headlong from the rampart threw.. Pallas her fav'rite champions ftill infpires, Their nerves confirms, and wakes their martial fires.

With courfe divided, on the foe they fall,

And bare between them leave a length of wall;

As fire, when kindled on fome mountain's head,

Where runs, in long extent, the woodland Ihade,

Confumes the middle foreft, and extends

Its parted progrefs to the diftant ends :

So fought the leaders, while their fcatter'd

pow'rs,

In phalanx join'd, approach'd the Theban tow'rs ; With hands and heads againft the rampart

lean'd,

The firft, upon their fhields, the reft fuftain'd : Rank above rank, the living ftructure grows, As fettling bees the pendent heap compofe, Which to fome cavern's roof >united clings, Woven thick with complicated feet and wings : Thus mutually fuftain'd, the warriors bend ; While o'er their heads the order'd ranks afcend.

And now the martial goddefs with delight, Plac'd on a turret's top, furvey'd the fight. Thrice to the height (he rais'd her awful voice ; The tow'rs and bulwarks trembled at the noife : Both warring hofts alike the iignal hear ; To this the caufe of hope, to that, of fear. And Thefeus thus addrefs'd his martial train : Here (hall we wage a diftant war in vain, When now, Tydides, from the conquer'd tow'rs Dcfcending, on the town his warriors pours ? Your glory, if ye would afiert, nor yield At once the praife of many a well-fought field; Afcend thefe lofty battlements, and claim With thofe who conquer, now an equal fame. The monarch thus; and to the combat leads ; With emulation fir'd, the hoft proceeds ; Under a fhow'r of falling darts they go, Climb the fteep ramparts, and alTault the foe ; As winds outrageous, from the ocean wide, Againft fome mole impel the ftormy tide, \Vhofe rocky arms, oppofed to the deep, FYoni tempefts fafe the anchoring veflcl keep ; Wave heap'd on wave, the ftormy deluge tow'rs, And o'er it, with rcfiftlefs fury, pours : Such feem'd the fight, the Theban hoft o'cr-

thrown, The wall deferts, and mingles with the town.

Creon in vain the defp'rate rout withftands, With Iharp reproaches and vindictive hands ; His rage they (him not, nor his threat'nings hear, From ftunning clamours deaf, and blind from fear. And thus the monarch with uplifted eyes, And both his hands extended to the fkies : Ye pow'rs fupreme, whofe unrefifted fway The fates of men and mortal things obey ! Againft your counfels, vain it is to ftrive, Which only ruin nations or retrieve. Here in your fight, with patience, I refign That envy'd royalty which once was mine; Renounce the cures that wait upon a crown, And make my laft attention all my own. Seven virgin daughters in my houfe remain, Who muft not live to fwell a victor's train ; Nor fhall my wretched queen, in triumph borne, Be lifted to the eye of public fcorn : One common fate our miferies fhall end, And, with the duft of Thebes, our afhes blend.

His fix'd decree the monarch thus exprefVd One half the fates confirm'd, deny'd the reft : > iij

54

For now furrounded by the hoftile crowd

His captive queen an humble fuppliant flood.

Tydides found her as ihe left the walls;

Before the hero to the ground (he falls ; [prefs'd,

With trembling hands, his mighty knees Ihc

And, fupplicating, thus with tears addrefs'd :

Illuftrious chief ! for fure your gallant mien

No lefs proclaims you, fpare'a wretched queen ;

One whom the gods with endlefs hate purfue,

To griefs already iumlefs adding new ;

O fpare a helplefs wretch, who humbly bends,

And for protection on thy might depends !

As fupplicating thus her fuit ihe prefs'd,

Ulyffes heard, and thus the chief addrefs'd :

See how th' immortals, by a juft decree,

Caffandra's fall avenge, and honour thee \

See, at thy feet, .the wife of Ceron laid,

A victim offer'd for the hijur'd maid.

THE WORKS OF W1LKIE.

Let her the firfl your juft refentmcnt feel 5 By heav'n prefented to your vengeful fteel.

Ulyfles thus. With fighs the hero faid : Enough is ofFer'd to Cafiandra's fhade ; With wide deftruction, wafting fword and fire, To plague the authors of her fall, confpire. Ye all in vain. No facrifice recalls The parted ghoft from Pluto's gloomy walls. Too long, alas ! has lawlefs fury rul'd, To reafon deaf, by no reflection cool'd : While I unhappy, by its dictates fway'd, My guardian murder'd, and the hoft betray'd, No victim, therefore, tp my rage I'll pay ; Nor ever follow as it points the way.

The fon of Tydeus thus ; and to his tent, From infults fafe, the royal matron fent. Himfelf again the courfe of cpnque.ft led Till Thebes was overthrown, and Creon bled.

A DREAM.

IN THE MANNER OF SPENSER.

ONE ev'ning as by pleafant Forth I flray'd,

In penfive mood, and meditated ftill On poets' learned toil, with fcorn repaid

By envy's bitter fpite, and want of ikill ;

A cave I found, which open'd in a hill. The floor was land, with various fhells yblended,

Through which, in flow meanders,' crept a rill ; The roof, by nature's cunning fl ight iuipended : Thither my fteps I turn d, and there my journey ended.

ii. Upon the ground my liftlefs limbs I laid,

Lull'd by the murmur of the pafiing ftream : Then ileep, foft ftealing, did my eyes invade ; '

And waking thought, foon ended in a dream.

Tranfported to a region I did feem, Which with Theflalian Tempe might compare ;

Of verdant fhade compos'd, and wat'ry gleam : Not even Valdarna, thought fo pafllng fair, Might match this pleafant land, in all perfections rare.

III. One, like a hoary palmer, near a brook,

Under an arbour, feated did appear ; A fhepherd fwain, attending, held a book,

And feem'd to read therein that he mote hear.

From curiofity I ftepped near ; But ere I reach'cLthe place where they did fit,

The -vvhifp'ring breezes wafted to my ear The found of rhymes which I myfelf had writ : Rhymes much, alas, too mean, for fuch a judge unfit.

IV.

For him he feera'd who fung Achilles' rage,

In lofty numbers that mail never, die, "'*;&" And, wife Ulyfles' tedious pilgrimage, ' So long the fport of {harp adverfity : The praifes of his merit, fame on high,

With her fhrill trump, for ever loud doth found*

With'him no bard for excellence can vie, Of all that late or ancient e'er were found ; So much he doth furpafs ev'n bards the moil re- nown'd.

v. The fhepherd fwain invited me to come

Up to the arbour where they feated were ; For Homer call'd me: much I fear'd the doom

Which fuch a judge feem'd ready to declare.

As I approach'd, with miekle dread and care, He thus addrefs'd me : Sir, the caufe explain

Why all your ftory here is told fo bare ? Few circxnnftances mix'd of various grain ; Such, furely, much enrich and raife a poet's ftrain.

yi. Ccrtes, quoth I, the critics are the caufe

Of tijis, and many other mifch'iefs more ; Who tie the Milfes to fuch rigid laws,

That all their fongs are frivolous and poor.

They cannot now, as oft they did before,' Ere pow'rful prejudice had dipt their wings,

Nature's domain with boundlefs flight explore, And traffic freely in her precious things : Each bard now fears the rod, and trembles while he fmgs.

VII.

Though Shakfpeare, ftill difdaining narrow rules,

His bofom fill'd with Nature's facred fire, Broke all the cobweb limits fix'd by fools,

And left the world to blame him and admire.

Yet his reward few mortals would defire ; For, of his learned toil, the only meed

That ever I could find he did acquire, Is that our dull, degenerate, age of lead, Says that he wrote by chance, and that he fcarce could read.

A DREAM.

I ween, quoth he, that poets are to blame

When they fubmit to critics' tyranny : For learned wights there is no greater fhame,

That blindly with their dictates to comply.

Who ever taught the eagle how to fly, Whofe wit did e'er his airy tract define,

When with free wing he claims his native flcy, Say, will he fleer his courfe by rule and line ? Certes, he'd fcorn the bounds that would his flight confine.

IX.

Not that the Mufes' art is void of rules :

Many there are, I wot, and ftricter far, Than thofe which pedants dictate from the fchools,

Who wage with wit and tafte eternal war :

For foggy ignorance their fight doth mar ; Nor can their low conception ever reach

To what dame Nature, crown'd with many a

ftar,

Explains to fuch as know her learned fpeech ; But few can comprehend the lefibns flie doth teach.

x. As many as the ftars that gild the flcy,

As many as the flow'rs that paint the ground, In number like the infect tribes that fly,

The various forms of beauty flill are foimd ;

That with ftrict limits no man may them bound, And fay that this, and this alone, is right :

Experience foon fuch rafhnefs would confound, And make its folly obvious to the light ; For fuch prefumption fure becomes not mortal wight.

XI.

Therefore each bard fhould freely entertain The hints which pleafing fancy gives at will ;

Nor curb he^fallies with too flrict a rein, Nature fubjecting to her hand-maid (kill : And you yourfeli in this have done but ill ;

"With many more, who have not comprehended ' That genius, crampt, will rarely mount the hill,

Whofe forked fummit with the clouds is blended :

Therefore, when next you write, let this delect be mended.

XIJ.

But, like a friend, who candidly reproves

For faults and errors which he doth efpy, Each vice he freely marks ; yet always loves

To mingle favour with feverity.

Certes, quoth he, I cannot well deny, That you in many things may hope to pleafe :

You force a barbarous northern tongue to ply, And bend it to your purpofes with eafe; Though rough as Albion's rocks, and hoarfer than her feas.

XIII.

Nor are your tales, I wot, fo loofely yok'd,

As thoVe which Colin Clout * did tell before ; Nor with defcription crowded fp, and chok'd,

Which, thinly fpread, will always pleafe the more.

Colin, I wot, was riqh in Nature's (lore ; More rich than you, had more than he could ufe :

But mad Orlando f taught him had his lore ;


 * Spenfer.

f Arioso, fo called from his biro.

Whofe flights, at random, oft mifled his mufe ; To follow fuch a 1 guide, few prudent men would choofe.

xlv. Me you have follow'd : Nature was my guide;

To this the merit of your verfe is owing: And know for certain, let it check your pride, That all you boafl of is of my beftowing. The flow'rs I fee, through all your garden

blowing, Are mine ; molt part, at leafl : I might demand,

Might claim them, as a crop of my own fowing, And leave but few, thin fcatter'd o'er the land: A claim fo'jufl, I wot, you could not well with* fland.

xv. Certes, quoth I, that juftice were full hard,

Which me alone would fentence to reflore; When many a learned fage, and many a bard, Are equally your debtors, or much more. Let Tityrus * himfelf produce his flore, Take what is thine, but liule will remain:

Little, I wot, and that indebted fore To Alcra's bardf, and Arethufa's fwaini; And others too befide ; who lent him many a drain,

xvi. Nor could the modern bards afford to pay,

Whofe fong$ exalt the champions of the

Crofs ;

Take from each hoard thy flerling gold away, And little will remain but worthlefs drofs. Not bards alone could ill fupport the lofs ; But fages too, whofc theft fufpicion fhunn'd : Ev'n that fly Greek,, who fleals and hides fo

clofe,

Were half a bankrupt, if he fhould refund, While thefc are all forborn, fhall I alone be dunn'd.

xvij. He fmil'd ; and from his wrath, which well could

fpare Such boon, the wreath with which his locks

were clad,

Pluck'd a few leaves to hide my temples bare; The prefent I receiv'd with heart full glad. Henceforth, quoth I, I never will be fad; For now I fhall obtain my fhare of fame :

Nor will licentious wit, or envy bad, With hitter taunts, my verfes dare to blame : This garland fhall protect theni, and exalt my name.

xvu i. But dreams are fhort ; for as I thought to lay

My limbs, at eafe, upon the flow'ry ground, And drink, with greedy ear, what he might fay, As murm'ring waters fweet, or mufic's found, My flecp departed ; and I, waking, found Myfelf again by Fortha'e plcafant ftream.

Homewards I flepp'd, in meditation drown'd, Reflecting on the meaning of my dream ; Which let each wight interpret ^s him befl doth feem.

Plato, reckoned by Longinus one of tie greatefc imitators of Homer.
 * Virgil. f HefioJ. J Theocritus,

P iii-

FABLES.

TO THE EARL OF LAUDERDALE.

IT is undoubtedly an uneafy fituation to lie under great obligations, without being able to make fuit- able returns : all that can be done in this cafe, is, to acknowledge the debt, which (though it' does not entitle to an acquittance) is looked upon as a kind of compenfation, being all that gratitude has in its power.

This is in a peculiar manner my fituation with aefpecT: to your Lordfhip. What you have done tfbr me with the moft uncommon favour and con- defcenfion is what I fhall never be able to repay ; and, therefore, have ufed the freedom to recom mend the following performance to your protec tion, that I might have an opportunity of acknow ledging my obligations in the moft public manner.

It is evident, that the world will hardly allow my gratitude upon this occafion to be diiinterefted. Your diftinguifhed rank, 'the additional honours derived from the luftre of your anceftors, your

own uncommon abilities, equally adapted to the fervice of your country in peace and in war, are circumftances fufficient to make any author am bitious of your Lordfhip's patronage. But I muft do myfelf the juftice to infift, it is upon the ac count of diftinctions lefs fplendid, though far more interefting (thofe, I mean, by which you are di-* ftinguifhed as the friend of human nature, the guide and patron of unexperienced youth, and the father of the poor), that I am zealous of fubicrib- ing myfelf,

My Lord,

Your Lordfhip's

Moft humble, and

Moft devoted Servant, WILLIAM WILKIE.

FABLE I.

THE YOUNG LADY AND THE LOOKING-GLASS.

YE deep philosophers who can Explain that various creature, man, Say, is there any point fo nice, As that of offering an advice ? To bid your friend his errors mend, Is almoft certain to offend : Though you in fofteft terms advife, Confefs him good ; admit him wife ; Jn vain you fweeten the difcourfe, He thinks you call him fool, or worfe ; You paint his character, arid try If he will own it, and apply. "Without a name reprove and warn : Here none are hurt, and all may learn; This, too, muft fail, the picture fhown, No man will take it for his own. In moral lectures treat the cafe, Say this is hoheft, that is bafe ; In converfation none will bear it ; And for the pulpit, few come near it. And is there then no other way ^ moral lefTon to convey ?

Muft all that {hall attempt to teach, Adrnonifh, fatirize, or preach ? Yes, there is one, an ancient art, By fages found to reach the heart, Ere fcience with diftinctions nice, Had fix'd what virtue is and vice, Inventing all the various names On which the moralift declaims : They would by limple tales advife, Which took the hearer by furprife ; Alarm'd his confcience, unprepared, Ere pride had put it on its guard ; And made him from himfelf receive The leflbns which they meant to give. That this device will oft prevail, And gain its end when others fail, If any fhall pretend to doubt, The tale which follows it makes out. '

There was a little ftubborn dame Whom no authority could tame, Reftive by long indulgence grown, No will ihe minded but her own t

FABLES.

At trifles oft fhe'd fcold and fret, Then in a corner take a feat, And fourly moping all the day Difdain alike to work or play. Papa all fofter arts had try'd, And fharper remedies apply'd; But both were vain, for every courfe He took ftill made her worfe and worfe. 'Tis ftrange to think how female wit, So oft fhould make a lucky hit, When man with all his high pretence To deeper judgment, founder fenfe, Will err, and meafures falfe purfue 'Tis very ftrange I own, but true Mama oblerv'd the rifing lafs, By ftealth retiring to the glafs, To pradtife little airs unfeen, In the true genius of thirteen : On this a deep defign fhe laid To tame the humour of the maid; Contriving like a prudent mother To make one folly cure another. Upon the wall againft the feat Which Jeffy us'd for her retreat, Whene'er by accident offended, A looking-glafs was ftraight fufpended, That it might mow her how deform'd She look'd, and frightful when fhe ftorm'd ; And warn her as fhe priz'd her beauty, To bend her humour to her duty. All this the looking-glafs atchiev'd, Its threats were minded and believ'd.

The maid who fpurn'd at all advice, Grew tame and gentle in a trice ; So when all other means had fail'd The filent monitor prevail'd.

Thus, fabie to the human kind Prefents an image of the mind, It is a mirror where we fpy At large our own deformity, And learn of courfe thofe faults to mend Which but to mention would offend.

. FABLE II.

THK KITE AND THE ROOKS.

You fay 'tis vain in verfe or profe

To teli what ev'ry body knows,

And ft retch invention to exprefs

Plain truths which all men will confefs :

Go on the argument to mend,

Prove that to know is to attend,

And that we ever keep in fight

What reafon tells us once is right ;

Till this is done you muft excufe

The 'zeal and freedom of my mufe

In hinting to the human-kind,

What few deny but fewer mind :

There is a folly which we blame,

5 Tis ftrange that it fhould want a name,

For fure no other finds a place

So often in the human race

I mean the tendency to fpy

Our neighbour's faults with fharpen'd eye,

And make his l-ghteft failings known,

^Vithout attending to our own.

The prude in daily ufe to vex With groundlefs cenfure half the {ex, Of rigid virtue honour nice, And much a foe to every vice, Tells lies without remorfe and fhame, Yet never thinks herfelf to blame. A fcriv'ner, though afraid to kill, Yet fcruples not to forge a will ; Abhors the foldier's bloody feats, While he as freely damns all cheats : The reafon's plain, 'tis not his way To lie, to cozen and betray. But tell me if to take by force, Is not as bad at leaft, or worfe. The pimp who owns it as his trade To potch for letchere, and be paid, Thinks himfelf honeft in his ftation, But rails at rogues that fell the nation Nor would he (loop in any cafe, And ftain his honour for a place. To mark this error of mankind The tale which follows is defign 'd.

A flight of rooks one harveft morn Had ftopt upon a field of corn, Juft when a kite as authors fay, Was pafllng on the wing that way : His honeft heart was fill'd with pain, To fee the farmer lofe his grain, So lighting gently on a fhock He thus the foragers befpoke : " Believe me, Sirs, your much to blame, 'Tis ftrange that neither fear nor fhame Can keep you from your ufual way Of ftealth, and pilf'ring every day. No fooner has the induftrious fwain His field turn'd up and fow'd the grain, But ye come flocking on the wing, Prepar'd to fnatch it ere it faring: And after all his toil and care Leave every furrow fpoil'4 and bare : If ought tfcapes your greedy bills, Which nurs'd by iummcr grows and fills, 'Tis ftill your prey : and though ye know No rook did ever till or fow, Yc boldly reap, without regard To juftice, induftry's reward, And ufe it freely as your own, Though men and cattle fhou'd get none. I never did in any cafe Defcend to practices fo bafe. Though flung with hunger's fharpeft pain I ftill have fcorn'd to touch a grain, Ev'n when I had it in my pow'r To do't with fafety every hour : For, truft me, nought that can be gain'd is worth a character unftain'd." -

Thus with a face aufterely grave Harangu'd the hypocrite and knave; And anfwering from amidft the flock A rook with indignation fpoke.

" What has been faid is ftridlly true, Yet comes not decently from you ; For fure it indicates a mind From felfifh paffions more than blind, To mifs your greater crimes, and quote Our lighter failings thus by rote.

5*

I muft confefs we wrong the fwain Too oft by pilf 'ring of his grain i But is our guilt like yours, I pray, "Who rob and murder every day ? No harmlefs bird can mount the fkiea But you attack him as he flies ; And when at eve he lights to reft, You ftoop and match him from his neft. The hufbandman who feems to fhare So large a portion from your care, Say, is he ever off his guard, While you are hov'ring o'er the yard? He knows too well your ufual tricks Your ancient fpite to tender chicks, And that yon like a felon watch, For fomething to furprife and fnatch."

At this rebuke fo juft, the kite Surpris'd, abafh'd, and filenc'd quite, And prov'd a villain to his face, Straight foar'd aloft and left the place.

FABLE III.

THE MUSE AND THE SHEPHERD.

3LET every bard who feeks applaulfe Be true to virtue and her caufe, Nor ever try to raife his fame By praifing that which merits blame ; The vain attempt he needs muft rue, For difappointment will enfue. Virtue with her fuperior charms Exalts the poet's foul and warms, His tafte refines, his genius fires, JLike Phoebus and the nine infpires ; "While vice though feemingly approv'd Is coldly flattered, never lov'd.

Palemon once a ftory told, Which by conjecture muft be old : I have a kind of half conviction That at the beft 'tis but afidlion ; But taken right and underftood. The moral certainly is good.

A fhepherd fwain was wont to fing The infant beauties of the fpring, The bloom of fummer, winter hoar, The autumn rich in various ftore ; And prais'd in numbers ftrong and clear The Ruler of the changeful year. To human themes he'd next defcend, The fhepherd' s harmlefs life commend, And prove him happier than the great "With all their pageantry and ftate ; Who oft for pkafure and for wealth, Exchange their .innocence and health ; The Mufes liften'd to his lays ; And crown'd him as he fung with bays. Euterpe, goddefs of the lyre, A harp beftpw'd with golden wire : And oft wou'd teach him how to fing, Or touch with art the trembling firing. His fame o'er all the mountains flew, And to his cot the fhepherds drew ; They heard his mufic with delight, Whole fummer days from morn to night ;

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

Nor did they ever think him long,

Such was the magic of his fong :

Some rural prefent each prepared,

His Ikill to honour and reward ;

A flute, a fheep-hook or a lamb,

Or kidling folio w'd by its dam :

For bards it feems in earlier days^

Got fomething more than empty praife.

All this continued for a while,

But foon our fongfter chang'd his ftyle,

Infected with the common itch,

His gains to double and grow rich :

Or fondly feeking new applaufe,

Or this or t'other was the caufe;

One thing is certain that his rhimes

Grew more obfequious to the times,

Lefs fliff and formal, alter'd quite

To what a courtier calls polite.

Whoe'er grew rich, by right or wrong,,

Became the hero of a fong :

No nymph or fhepherdefs could wed,

But he muft fing the nuptial bed,

And ftill was ready to recite

The fecret tranfports of the night,

In flrains too lufcious for the^ar

Of fober chaftity to bear.

Aftonifh'd at a change fo great,

No more the fhepherds fought his feat,

But in their place a horned crowd

Of fatyrs flock'd from every wood,

Drawn by the magic of his lay,

To dance, to frolic, fport, and play.

The goddefs of the lyre difdain'd

To fee her facrcd gift profan'd,

And gliding fwiftly to the place,

With indignation in her face,

The trembling fhepherd thus addrefs'd,

In awful majefty confefs'd.

" Thou wretched fool, that harp refign, For know it is no longer thine ; It was not given you to infpire A herd like this with loofe defire, Nor to affift that venal praife Which vice may purchafe, if it pays;, Such offices my lyre difgrace ; Here take this bagpipe in its place. 'Tis fitter far, believe it true, Both for thefe mifcreants and you."

The fwain difmay'd, without a wordj Submitted, and the harp reftor'd.

FABLE IV.

THE GRASHOPPER AND THE

WHEN ignorance poffefs'dthe fchocls, And reign'd by Ariftotle's rules, Ere Verulam, like dawning light, Rofe to difpel the Gothic night : A man was taught to fhut his eyes, And grow abftraAed to be wife. Nature's broad volume fairly fpread, Where all true fcience might be read, The wifdom of th' Eternal Mind, Declar'd and publifh'd to mankind.,

FABLES.

Was quite neglected, for the whims Of mortals and their airy dreams : By narrow principles and few, By hafty maxims, oft untrue, By words and phrafes ill-defin'd, Evafive truth they hop'd to bind ; Which ftill efcap'd them, and the elves At laft caught nothing but themfelves. Nor is this folly modern quite, 'Tis ancient too ; the Stagyrite Improv'd at firft, and taught his fchool By rules of art to play the fool. Ev'n Plato, from example bad, Would oft turn fophift, and run mad : Makes Socrates hlmfelf difcourfe Like Clarke and Leibnitz, oft-times worfe.; 'Bout quirks and fubtilties contending, Beyond all human comprehending. From fome ftrange bias men purfue Falfe knowledge ftill in place of true, Build airy fyftcms of their own, This moment rais'd, the next pull'd down ; While few attempt to catch thofe rays \Of truth which nature ftill difplays Throughout the univerfal plan, From mofs and mufhrooms up to man. This fure were better, but we hate To borrow when we can create ; And therefore ftupidly prefer Our own conceits, by whicK we err, To all the wifdom to be gain'd From nature and her laws explain'd.

One ev'ning, when the fun was fer, A grafhopper and glowworm met Ppon a hillock in a dale, As Mab the fairy tells the tale. Vain and conceited of his fpark, Which brighten'd as the night grew dark, The fhining reptile fwell'd with pride To fee his rays on every fide, Mark'd by a circle on the ground Qf livid light, fome inches round.

Quoth he, if glowworms never fhone, To light the earth when day is gone, In fpite of all the ftars that burn, Primeval darknefs would return : They're lefs and dimmer, one may fee, Befides much farther off than we ; And therefore through a long defcent Their light is fcatter'd quite and fpent : While ours, comparer and at hand, Keeps night and darknefs at a Hand, Diffus'd around in many a ray, Whofe brightnefs emulates the day.

This pafs'd and more without difpute, The patient grafhopper was mute : But foon the eaft began to glow With light appearing from below, And level from the ocean's ftreams The moon emerging fhot her beams, To gild the mountains and the woods, And fhake and glitter on the floods. The glowworm, when he found his light prow pale, and faint, and vanifh quite, Before the moon's prevailing ray, Jicgau his envy to difplay.

That globe, quoth he, which feems fo fair, Which brightens all the earth and air, And fends its beams fo far abrflad, Is nought, believe me, but a clod ; A 'thing, which, if the fun were gone, Has no more light in't than a ftone, Subfifting merely by fuppliea From Phcebus in the nether fkies ; My light, indeed, I mufl confefs, On fome occafions will be lefs ; But fpite itfelf will hardly fay I'm debtor for a fmgle ray; 'Tis all my own, and on the fcore Of merit mounts to ten times more Than any planet can demand For light difpens'd at fecond hand.

To hear the paltry infect boaft. The grafhopper all patience loft.

Quoth he, my friend, it may be fo, The moon with borrow'd light may glow; That your faint glimm'ring is your own, I think is queftion'd yet by none : But fure the office to collect The folar brightnefs and reflect, To catch thofe rays that would be fpent Quite ufelefs in the firmament, And turn them downwards on the fhade Which abfence of the fun has made, Amounts to more, in point of merit, Than all your tribe did e'er inherit : Oft*by that planet's friendly ray The midnight traveller finds his way; Safe by the favour of his beams 'Mulft precipices, lakes ; and ftreams; While you miflead him, and your light, Seen like a cottage lamp by night, With hopes to find a fafe retreat, Allures and tempts him to his fate : As this is fo, I needs muft call The merit of your light but fmall : You need not boaft on't though your own; 'Tis light, indeed, but worfe than none ; Unlike to what the moon fupplies, Which you call borrow'd, and defpife.

FABLE V.

THE ATE, THE PARROT, AND THE JACKDAW*

1 HOLD it rafh at any time

To deal with fools difpos'd to rhime ;

DifTuafive arguments provoke

Their utmoft rage as foon as fpoke ;

Encourage them, and for a day

Or two you're fafe, by giving way :

But when they find themfelves betray'd,

On you at laft the blame is laid.

They hate and fcoru you as a traitor,

The common lot of thofe who flatter :

But can a fcribbler, Sir, be fhunn'd ?

What will you do when teaz'd and dunn'd ?

When watch'd, and caught, and clofely prefs'd,

When complimented and addrefs'd :

When Bavius greets you with a bow,

" Sir, pleafe to read a line or two."

If you approve, and fay they're clever,

" You make me happy, Sir, for ever."

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

What can be done ? the cafe is plain, No methods of efcape remain : You're fairly noos'd, and muft confent To bear, what nothing can prevent, A coxcomb's, anger ; and your fate Will be to fuffer foon or late.

An ape, that was the fole delight Of an old woman day and night, Indulg'd at table and in bed, Attended like a child, and fed : Who knew each trick, and twenty more Than ever monkey play'd before, Ac laft grew frantic, and would try, Jn fpite of nature's laws, to fly. Oft from the window would he view The pafling fwallows as they flew, Obferve them fluttering round the walls, Or gliding o'er the fmooth canals : He too muft fly, and cope with thefe ; For thkand nothing elfe would pleafe : Oft thinking from the window's height, Three flories down to take his flight : He ftill was fomething loth to venture, As tending ftrongly to the centre : And knowing that the leaft miftake Might coft a limb, perhaps his neck: ^ The cafe you'll own was fomething nice ; He thought it beft to aik advice ; And to the parrot ftraight applying, Allow'd to be a judge of flying, He thus began : " You'll think me rude, Forgive me it" I do intrude, For you alone my doubts can clear In fomething that concerns me near : Do you imagine, if I try, That I fhall e'er attain to fly ? The project's whimfical no doubt, But, ere you cenfure, hear me out: That liberty's our greateft blefTnig You'll grant me without farther preffing ; To live confin'd, 'tis plain and clear Is fomething very hard to bear : This you muft know, who for an age Have been kept pris'ner in a cage, Deny'd the privilege to foar With boundlefs freedom as before. 1 have, 'tis true, much greater fcope Than you, my friend, can ever hope ; I traverfe all the houfe, and play My tricks and gambols every day: Oft with my miftrefs in a chair I ride abroad to take the air : Make vifits with her, walk at large, A maid or footman's conftant charge. Yet this is nothing, for I find TVIyfelf ftill hamper'd and confin'd ; A grov'ling thing : I fain would rife Above the earth, and mount the Ikies : The meaneft birds, and infects too, This feat with greateft eafe can do. To that gay creature turn about That's beating on the pane without ! Ten days ago, perhaps but five, A worm, it fcarcely feem'd alive: By threads fufpended, tough and fmall, dufty cobwebs on a wall ;

Now drefs'd in all the diff'rent dye*

That vary in the ev'ning fkies,

He foars at large, and on the wing

Enjoys with freedom all the fpring ;

Skims the frefh lakes, and rifmg fees

Beneath him far the loftiefl trees :

And when he refts, he makes his bow V

The cup of fome delicious flow'r.

Shall creatures fo obfcurely bred,

On mere corruption nurs'd and fed,

A glorious privilege obtain,

Which I can never hope to gain ?

Shall I, like man's imperial race

In manners, cuftoms, fhape, and face,

Expert in ail ingenious tricks,

To tumble, dance, and leap- o'er flicks;

Who know to footh and coax my betters,

And match a beau, at leaft in letters;

Shall 1 defpair, and never try

(What meaneft infects can) to fly ?

Say, mayn't I without 'dread or care

At once commit me to the air,

And not fall down and break my bones

Upon thofe hard and flinty ftones ?

Say, if to ftir my limbs before

Will make me glide along or foar ?

All things they fay are learn'd by trying:

No doubt it is the fame with flying.

I wait your judgment with refpect,

And fhall proceed as you direct.

Poor poll, with gen'rous pity mov'd, The ape's fond rafhnefs thus reprov'd; For, though inftructed by mankind, Her tongue to candour ftill inclin'd.

My friend, the privilege to rife Above the earth, and mount the fkies, Is glorious fure, and 'tis my fate To feel the want on't with regret ; A pris'ner to a cage confin'd, Though wing'd and of the flying kind. With you the cafe is not the fame, You're quite terreftrial by your frame, And fhould be perfectly content With your peculiar element : You l^ave no wings, 1 pray reflect, To lift you and your courfe direct ; Thofe arms of yours will never do, Not twenty in the place of two ; They ne'er can lift you from the ground, For broad and long, they're thick and round, And therefore if you choofe the way, To leap the window, as you fay, 'Tis certain that you'll be the jeft Of every infect, bird, and beaft ; When you lie batter'd by your fall Juft at the bottom of the wall. Be prudent: then, improve the pow'rs Which nature gives in place of ours. You'll find them readly conduce At once to pleafure and to ufe. But airy whims and crotchets lead To certain lofs, and ne'er fucceed ; As folks, though inly vex'd and teaz'd, Will oft feem iatisfy'd and pleas'd.

The ape approv'd of every word At this time utter'd by the bird :

FABLES.

But nothing in opinion changM, Thought only how to he rever.g'd. It happened when the day was fair, Thai Poll was let to take the air, Juft where the Monkey oft fat poring About experiments in '"oaring : Diflembling his contempt and rage, He ftept up foftly to the cage, And with a fly malicious grin, Accofted thus the bird within.

You fay, I am not forra'd for flight ; In this you certainly are right: But to yourfelf there's no objection, Since flying is the very trade For which the winged race is made; , And therefore for our mutual Iport, I'll make you fly, you can't be hurt. With that he flyly dipt the ftring Which held the cage up by the ring. In vain the Parrot begg'd and pray'd, No word was minded that llie faid : Down went the cage, and on the ground Bruis'd and half-dead poor Poll was found. Pug who for fome time had attended To that alone which now was ended, Again had leifure to purfue The project he had firft in view.
 * Tis very plain upon reflection,

Quoth he, a perfon, if he's wife Will only with his friends advife, They know his temper and his parts, And have his intereft near their hearts. In matters which he fliould forbear, They'll hold him back with prudent care, But never from an ewvious fpirit Forbid him to difplay his merit ; Or judging wrong from fpleen and hate His talents flight or underrate ; I acted fure with fmall reflection In afking counfel and direction From a fly minion whom I know To be my rival and my foe : One who will conftantly endeavour To hurt me in our lady's favour, And watch and plot to keep me down, From obvious interefts of her own : But on the top of that old tow'r An honeft Daw has made his bow'r ; A faithfulfriend whom one may truft, My debtor too for raany a cruft ; Which in the window oft I lay, For him to come and take away : From gratitude no doubt he'll give Such counfel as I may receive ; Well back'd with reafons ftrong and plain To pufli me forward or reftrain.

One morning when the Daw appear'd, The project was proposed and heard : And though the bird was much furpris'd To find friend Pug fo ill advis'd, He rather chofe that he fliould try At his own proper rilk to fly, Than hazard, in a cafe fo nice, To fliock him by too free advice.

Q^uoth he, I'm certain that you'll find The project anfwer to your mind ; Without fufpicion, dread or care, At once commit you to. the air ;

You'll foar aloft, or, if you pleafe, Proceed ftraight forwards at your eafe : The whole depends on refolution. Which you poflefs from conftitution ; And if you follow as I lead, 'Tis paft a doubt you muft fucceed.

So faying, from the turret's height, The Jackdaw (hot with downward flight, And on the edge of a canal, Some fifty paces from the wall, 'Lighted, obtequious to attend The Monkey when he fliould defcead : But he, although he had believ'd The flatterer and was deceiv'd, Felt feme mifgivings at-his heart In vent'ring on fo new an art : But yet at laft 'tween hope and fear Himfelf he trufted to the air, But far'd like him whom poets mention With Dedalus'sold invention: Directly downwards on his head He fell, and lay an hour for dead. The various creatures in the place Had diff'rent thoughts uponnhe cafe, From fome his fate compaflion drew, But thole I mult confefs were few : The reft efteeoi'd him rightly fert' And in the manner he deferv'd, For playing tricks beyond his fphere, Nor thought the punifliment fevere. They gather'd round him as he lay, And jecr'd him when he limp'd away.

Pug difappointed thus and hurt, And grown befides the public fport, Found all his different palTions change At once to fury and revenge : The Daw 'twas ufelefs to purfue, His helplcfs brood as next in view, With unrelenting paws he feiz'd, One's neck he wrung, another fqueez'd, Till of the number tour or five, No lingle bird was left alive.

Thus counfellors, in all regards Though different, meet with like rewards: The Itory Ihows the certain fate Of every mortal foon or late, Whofe evil genius for his crimes Connects with any fop that rhimes.

FABLE VI.

THE BOY AND THE RAINBOMT.

DECLARE, ye fages, if ye find 'Mongft animals of ev'ry kind, Of each condition fort and fize, From whales and elephants to flies, A creature that mjftakes his plan, And errs fo conftantly as man. Each kind purfues his proper good, And feeks for pleafure, reit and food, As nature points, and never errs In what it choofes and prefers ; Man only blunders, though poffeft Of talents far above the reft.

Defcend to inftances and try; An ox will fcarce attempt to fly, Or leave his pafture in the wood With filhes to- explore the flood.

THE WORKtf OF WILKIE.

Man only acts of every creature, In oppofition to his nature. The happinefs of human-kind Confifts in rectitude of mind, A will fubduM to reafoa's fway, And paflions practis'd to obey ; An open and a gen'rous heart, Refin'd from felfifhnefs and art ; Patience which mocks at fortune's pow'r, And wifdom never fad nor four: In thefe confift our proper blifs ; Elfe Plato reafons much amifs : But foolilh mortals ftill purfue Falfe happinefs in place of true ; Ambition ferves us for a guide, Or luft, or avarice, or pride ; While reafon no aflent can gain, And revelation warns in vain. Hence through our lives in ev'ry ftage, From infancy itfelf to age, A happinefs we toil to find, Which ftill avoids us like the wind ; JEv'n when we think the prize our own, At once 'tis vanifh'd* loft and gone. You'll afk me why I thus rehearfe, All Epictetus in my verfe, And if I fondly hope to pleafe With dry reflections, fuch as thefe, So trite, fo hackny'd, and fo ftale ? I'll take the hint and tell a tale. One ev'ning as a fimple fwain His flock attended on the plain, The mining bow he chanc'd to fpy, Which warns us when a fliow'r is nigh ; With brighteft rays it feem'd to glow, Its diftance eighty yards or fo. This bumpkin had it feems been told The ftory of the cup of gold, Which fame reports is to be found Juft where the rainbow meets the ground ; He therefore felt a fudden itch To feize the goblet and be rich ; Hoping, yet hopes are oft but vain, !No more to toil through wind and rain, But fit indulging by the fire, 'Midft eafe and plenty, like a 'fquire : He mark'd the very fpot of land On which the rainbow feem'd to ftand, And ftepping forwards at his leifure Expected to have found the treafure. But as he mov'd, the colour'd ray Still chang'd its place and flipt away, As feeming his approach to fhun; From walking he began to run, But all in vain, it ftill withdrew AS nimbly as he could purfue ; At laft through many a bog and lake, Rough craggy rock and thorny brake, It led the eafy fool, till night Approach'd, then vaniih'd in his fight, And left him to compute his gains, With nought but labour for his pains.

FABLE VII.

CELIA AND HER MIRROR.

As there are Various forts of minds, So friendfhips are of diff'rent kinds:

Some, conftant when the object's near;

Soon vanifh if it difappear.

Another fort, with equal flame,

In abfence will be ftill the fame :

Some folks a trifle will provoke,

Their weak attachment foon is broke ;

Some great offences only move

To change in friendfhip or in love.

Affection when it has its fource v

In things that Ibift and change ofcourfe,

As thefe diminifti and decay,

Mull likewife fade and melt away.

But when 'tis of a nobler kind, wi,

Infpir'd by rectitude of mind,

Whatever accident arrives,

It lives, and death itfelf furvives ;

Thofe different kinds reduc'd to two,

Falfe friendfhip may be call'd and true.

In Celia's drawing-room of late Some female friends were met to chat; Where after much difcourfe had paft, A portrait grew the theme at laft : 'Twas Celia's you muft underftand, And by a celebrated hand. Says one, that picture fure muft ftrike, In all refpects it is fo like : Your very features, fhape and air Exprefs'd, believe me, to a hair : The price I'm fure could not be fmall Juft fifty guineas frame and all That Mirror there is wond'rous fine I own the bauble coft me nine ; I'm fairly cheated you may fwear. For never was a thing fo dear : Dear quoth the Looking-glafs and fpoke, Madam, it would a faint provoke : Muft that fame gaudy thing be own'd A pennyworth at fifty pound ; While I at nine am reckon'd dear, 'Tis what I never thought to hear. Let both our merits now be try'd, This fair afiembly fhall decide ; And I will prove it to your face, That you are partial in the cafe. I give a likenefs far more true Than any artift ever drew : And what is vaftly more, exprefs Your whole variety of drefs : From morn to noon, from noon to night, I watch each change and paint it right ; Befides I'm nuftrefs of the art, Which conquers and fecures a heart. I teach you how to ufe thofe arms, That vary and afiift you* charms, And in the triumphs of the fair, Claim half the merit for my mare : So when the truth is fairly told, I'm worth at leaft my weight in gold : But that vain thing of which you fpeak Becomes quite ufelefs in a week. For, though it had no other vice, 'Tis out of fafllion in a trice, The cap is chang'd, the cloak, the gown ; It muft no longer ftay in town ? But goes in courfe to hide a wall With others in our country-hall.

The Mirror thus: the nymph reply 'd, Your merit cannot be deny'd ;

FABLES.

The portrait too, 1 rauft confefs,

In fome refpedls has vaftly lefs.

But you yeurfelf will freely grant

That it has virtues which you want.

'Tis certain that you can exprefs

My fliape, my features, and my drefs,

Not juft as well, but better too

Than Kneller once or Ramfay now.

But that fame image in your heart

Which thus excels the painter's art,

The Ihorteft abfence can deface,

And put a monkey's in its place :

That other which the canvafs bears,

Unchang'd and conftant, lafts for years,

Would keep its luftre and its bloom

Though it were here and I at Rome.

When age and ficknefs fhall invade

Thofe youthful charms and make them fade,

You'll foon perceive it, and reveal

What partial friendfhip fhould conceal :

You'll tell me, in your ufual way,

Of furrow'd cheeks and locks grown gray ;

Your gen'rous rival, not fo cold,

Will ne'er fuggeft that I am old ;

Nor mark when time and flow difeafe

Has ftol'n the graces won't pleafe;

But keep my image to be teen

In the full bloflfom of fixteen :

Beftowing freely all the praife

I merited in better days.

You will (when I am turn'd to duff,

For beauties die, as all things muft,

And you remember but by feeing)

Forget that e'er I had a being ;

But in that pidlure I (hall live,

My charms (hall death itfelf furvive,

And figur'd by the pencil there

Tell that your miftrefs once was fair.

Weigh each advantage and defedl,

The portrait merits moft refpecl :

Your qualities would recommend

A fervant rather than a friend ;

But fervice fure in ev'ry cafe,

To friend/nip yields the higher place,

FABLE VIII.

THX FISHERMEN.

Imitated from Theocritus.

BY all the fages 'tis'confeft That hope when- moderate is beft : But when indulg'd beyond due meafure It yields a vain deceitful pleafure, Which cheats the fimple, and betrays To mifchief in a thoufand ways ; Juft hope affifts in all our toils, The wheels of induftry it oils ; In great attempts the bofom fires, And zeal and conftancy infpires. Falfe hope, like a deceitful dream, Refts on fome vifionary fdheme, And keeps us idle to our lofs, Enchanted with our hands acrofs. A tale an ancient bard has told Of two poor fifhermen of old, Their names were (left I flieuld forget And put the reader in a pet,

Left critics too fhould make a pother)

The one Afphelio, Gripus t' other.

The men were very poor, their trade

Could fcarce afford them daily bread :

Though ply'd with induftry and care

Through the whole feafon, foul and fair.

Upon a rock their cottage ftood,

On all fides bounded by the flood :

It was a miferable feat,

Like cold and hunger's worft retreat :

And yet it ferv'd them both for life,

As neither could maintain a wife ;

Two walls were rock, and two were fancf,

Ramm'd up with ftakes and made to ftand.

A roof hung threat'ning o'er their heads

Of boards half-rotten, thatch'd with reeds.

And as no thief e'er touch their ftore,

A hurdle ferv'd them for a door.

Their beds were leaves j againft the wall

A fail hung drying, yard and all.

On one fide lay an old patched wherry,

Like Charon's on the Stygian ferry :

On t' other, balkets and a net,

With fea-weed foul and always wet.

Thefe forry inftruments of trade

Were all the furniture they had :

For they had neither fpit nor pot,

Unlefs my author has forgot.

Once fome few hours ere break of day, As in their hut our filhers lay, The one awak'd, and wak'd his neighbour, That both might ply their daily labour ; For cold and hunger are confeft No friends to indolence or reft.

Friend, quoth the drowfy fwain, and fworc, What you have done has hurt me more Than all your fervice can repay For years to come by night and day ; You've broke the thought on't makes me mad The fineft dream that e'er I had.

Quoth Gripus : friend your fpeech would prove You mad indeed, or elfe in love ; For dreams fliould weigh but light with thofe Who feel the want of food and clothes : I guefs, though fimple and untaught, You dream'd about a lucky draught, Or money found by chance : they fay That " hungry foxes dream of prey."

You're wond'rous flirewd, upon my troth, Afphelio cry'd, and right in both : My dream had gold in't, as you faid, And filhing too, our conftant trade ; And fince your guefs has hit fo near, In fiiort, the whole on't you fliall hear,

" Upon the more I feem'd to ftand, My rod and tackle in my hand ; The baited hook full oft I threw. But ftill in vain, I nothing drew : A fifh at laft appear'd to bite, The cork div'd quickly out of fight, And foon the dipping rod I found With fomething weighty bent half round: Quoth I, good luck has come at laft, I've furely made a happy caft : This fifli, when in the market fold, In place of brafs will fell for gold : To bring it iafe within my reach, I drew it foftly to the beach ;

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

But long ere it had come fo near

The watfer gleam'd with fomething clear ;

Each paffing billow caught the blaze,

And glitt'ring, fhone with golden rays.

Of hope and expectation full

Impatient, yet afraid to pull,

To Ihore I flowly brought my prize,

A golden filh of largeft fize :

'Twas metal all from head to tail,

Quite ftiff and glitt'ring ev'ry fcale.

Thought I, my fortune now is made ;

'Tis time to quit the fifhing trade,

And choofe fome other, where the gains

Are fure, and come for half the pains,

Like creatures of amphibious nature

One hour on land, and three on water ;

We live 'midft danger, toil, and care,

Yet never have a groat to fpare ;

While others not expos'd to harm,

Grow rich though always dry and warm ;

This treafure will fuffice, and more,

To place me handfomely on more,

In fome fnug manor ; now a fwain,

My fleers (hall turn the furrow'd plain,

While on a mountain's grafly fide

My flocks are part'ring far and wide :

Befide all this, I'll have a feat

Convenient, elegant, and neat,

A houfe not over great nor fmall,

Three rooms, a kitchen, and a hall.

The offices contriv'd with care,

And fitted to complete a fquare ;

A garden well laid out ; a wife,

To double all the joys of life ;

With children prattling at my knees,

Such trifles as are fure to pleafe.

Thofe gay defigns, and twenty more,

I in my dream was running o'er,

While you, as if you ow'd me fpite,

Broke in and put them all to flight,'

Biew the whole vifion into air,

And left me waking in defpair.

Of late we have been poorly fed,

Laft night went fupperlefs to bed :

Yet, if I had it in my pow'r

My dream to lengthen for an hour,

The pleafure mounts to fuch a fum,

I'd fail for fifty yet to come.

Therefore to bid me rife is vain,

I'll wink and try to dream again.

If this, quoth Gripus, is the way You choofe, I've nothing more to fay ; 'Tis plain that dreams of wealth will ferve A perfon who refolves to ftarve j But lure to hug a fancy'd cafe, That never did nor can take place, And for the pleafures it can give Neglect the trade by which we live, Is madnefs in its greateft height, Or I miftake the matter quite : Leave fuch vain fancies to the great, For folly fuits a large eitate : The rich may fafely deal in dreams, Romantic hopes and airy fchemes j But you and I, upon my word, Such paftime cannot well afford ; And therefore if you would be wife, Take my advice, for once, and rife.

FABLE IX,

CUPID AND THE SHEPHERff.

WHO fets his heart on things below

But little happinefs fhall know ;

For every object he purfues

Will vex, deceive him, and abufe :

While he on hopes and wifhes rife

To endlefs blifs above the fkies,

A true felicity fhall gain,

With freedom from both care and pain,

He feeks what yields him peace and reft,

Both when in profpect and poffeft.

A fwain whofe flock had gone aftray, Was wand'ring far out of his way Through deferts wild, and chanc'd to fee A ftripling leaning on a tree, In all things like the human kind, But that upon his back behind Two wings were from his fhoulders fpread Of gold and azure, ting'd with red ; Their colour like the ev'ning fky r A golden quiver grac'd his thigh : His bow unbended in his hand He held, and wrote with on the fand ; As one whom anxious cares purfue, In mufing oft is wont to do. He ftarted ftill with fudden fear, As if fome danger had been near, An<jl turn'd on every fide to view A flight of birds that round him flew, Whofe prefence feem'd to make him fad, For all were ominous and bad ; The hawk was there, the type of fpite y The jealous^owl that fhuns the light, The raven, whofe prophetic bill Denounces woe and mifchief ftill ; The vulture hungry to devour, Though gorg'd and glutted ev'ry hour; With thefe confus'd an ugly crew Of harpies, bats, and dragons flew, With talons arm'd, and teeth, and ftings, The air was darken'd with their wings. The fwain, though frighten'd, yet drew near, Compaffion rofe in place of fear, He to the winged youth began, " Say, are you mortal and of man, Or fomething of celeftial birth, From heaven defcended to the earth ? I am not of terreftrial kind, Quoth Cupid, nor to earth confin'd : Heav'n is my true and proper fphere, My reft and happinefs are there : Through all the boundlefs realms of light The phoenix waits upon my flight, With other birds whofe names are knowft In that delightful place alone. But when to earth my courfe I bend, At once they leave me and afcend ; And for companions in their ftead, Thofe winged monfters there fucceed, Who hov'ring round me night and day, Expect and claim me as their prey.

Sir, quoth the fhepherd, if you'll try, Your arrows foon will wake them fly j.- Or if they brave them and refift, My (ling is ready to affift.

FABLES.

Incapable of wounds and pain, Reply'd the winged youth again, Thefe foes our weapons will defy ; Immortal made, they never die ; But live to haunt me everywhere, While I remain within their fphere.

Sir, quoth the fvvain, might I advife, You ftraight fhould get above the fkies : It feems indeed your only way, For nothing here is worth your ftay ; Befide, when foes like thefe moleft, You'll find but little peace or reft.

FABLE X.

THE SWAN AND THE OTHER BIRDS.

EACH candidate for public fame

Engages in a defp'rate game :

His labour he will find but loft,

Or lefs than half repaid at moil :

To prove this point I fhall not choofe

The arguments which 3toics ufe ;

That human life is but a dream,

And few things in it what they feem ^

That praife is vain and little worth,

An empty bauble, and ib forth.

Til offer one. but of a kind

Not half fo fubtle and refin'd ;

Which, when the reft are out of fight,

May fometimes chance to have its weight.

'The man who fets his merits high, To glitter in the public eye, Should have defeds but very fmall, Or ftrictly fpeaking, none at all : , For that fuccefs which fpreads his fame, Provokes each envious tongue to blame, And makes his faults and failings known

^Where'er his better parts are fhown.

Upon a time, as poets fing, The birds all waited on their king, His hymeneal rites to grace ; A flow'ry meadow was the place ; They all were frolickfome and gay Amidft the pleafures of the day, And ere the.feftival was clos'd, A match at finging was propos'd ; The queen herfelf a wreath prepar'd, - To be the conqueror's reward ; With ftore of pinks and daifies in it,

. And many a fongftcr try'd to win it ; But all the judges foon confeft The fwan fuperior to the reft ; He got the garland from the bride, Wi h honour and applaufe befide : A Uttling goofe, with envy ftung, Auhough herfelf fhe ne'er hadfung, Took this occafion to reveal What fwans Teem ftudious to conceal, And, fkilPd in fatire's artful ways, Jnveftive introduc'd with praife.

The fwan, quoth fhe, upon my word,

By proof his charming voice you know, His feathers foft and white as fnow ; And if you faw him when he fwims Majeftic on the filver ftreams, He'd feem complete in all refpedls:
 * Defer ves applaufe from ev'ry bird :

. But nothing is without defers ; VOL. XI.

i For that is true, which few would think, His legs and feet are black as ink- As black as ink if this be true, To me 'tis wonderful and new, The fov'reign of the birds reply'd ; But foon the truth on't fliall be try'd. Sir, fhow your limbs, and for my fake, Confute at once this foul miftake, For I.'il maintain, and I am right, That, like your feathers, they are white. Sir, quoth the fwan, it would be vain For me a falfehood to maintain ; My legs are blackj,and proof will fhow Beyond difpute that they are fo : But if I had not got a prize Which glitters much in fome folk's eyes, Not half the biids had ever known What truth now forces me to own.

FABLE XI.

THE J.OVIR AND HIS FRIEND. To tie Poett.

'Tis not the point in works of art With care to furnifh every part, That each to high perfection rais'd, May draw attention and be prais d, An object by itfelf remedied, Though all the others were negledled ; Not mafters only this can do, But many a vulgar artift too: We know diftinguifh'd merit moft, When in the whole the parts are loft, When nothing rifes up to mine. Or draw us from the chief defign, When one united full effect Is felt, before we can reflect: And mark the caufesthat confpire To charm and force us to admire. This is indeed a matter's part, The very fummit of his art; And, therefore, when ye fhall rehearfe To friends for trial of your verfe, Mark their behaviour and their way, As much, at leaft, as what they fay ; If they feem'd pleas'd, and yet arc mute, The poem's good beyond difpute; , But when they babble all the while, Now praife the fenfe, and how the ftyle, 'Tis plain that fomething muft be wrong, This too weak or that too ftrong. The art is wanting which conveys Impreffions in myfterious ways, And makes us from a whole receive What no divided parts can give:. Fine writing, therefore, feems of courfe, Lefs fit to pleafe at firft than worfe. A language fitted to the fenfe Will hardly pafs for eloquence. . One f els its force, before he fees The charm which gives it pow'r to pleafe, And ere inftructed to admire, Will read and read, and never tire. But when the ftyle is of a kind Which foars and leaves the fenfe behind, 'Tis fomethinjg by itfelf, and draws From vulgar judges dull applaufe ;

E "' *< ',

THE WORKS OF WILKIE,

They'll yavyn, and tell you as you read, " Thofe lines are mighty fine indeed ;' ? But never will your works perufe At any time, if they can choofe. Tis not the thing which men call wit, Nor characters, though truly hit, Nor flowing numbers foft or ftrong, That bears the raptur'd foul along ; 'Tis fomething of a different kind, 'Tis all thofe flcilfully combin'd, ' To make what critics call a whole, Which ravifhes and <*harms the foul.

Alexis by fair Celia's fcorn To grief abandon'd and forlorn, Had fought in folitude to cover His anguifh, like i hopelefs lover : With his fond paffion to debate, Gay Strephon fought his rural feat, And found him with the fhepherds plac'd J''ar in a folitary wafte. -

My friend, quoth he, you're much to blame ; This foolifh foftnefs quit for fhanie ; Nor fondly doat upon a woman, Whofe 'charms are nothing more than common. That Celia's handfomel agree, But Clara's handfomer than (he : Euanthe's wit, which all commend, Does Celia's certainly tranfcend : Nor can you find the leaft pretence With Phebe's to compare her fenfe; With better tafte Belinda dreffes. With truer ftep the floor fhe preffes j And for behaviour foft and kind, Melifia leaves her far behind : What witchcraft then can fix the chain Which makes you fuffer her difdain, '* And not' attempt the "manly part To fet at liberty your heart f Make but one ftruggle, and you'll fee That in a moment you'll be free.

This Strephon argxi, and ten times more, From topics often touch'd before : In vain his eloquence he try'd; Alexis, fighiug, thus reply'd:

If Clara's handfome and a toaft, 'Tis all the merit fhe can boaft : Some fame Euanthe's wit ha's gain'd, Beraufe by prudence not reftrain'd. Phebe I own is wondrous wife, She never acts but in difguife: Belinda's merit all confefs Who know the myftery of drefs : But poor Meliffa on the fcore Of mere good-nature pleafes more : In thofe thtf reigning charm appears Alone, to draw our eyes and ears, No other rifes by its fide And fhines, attention to divide; Thus feen alone it ftrikes the eye, As fomething exquifite and high : But in my Celia you will find Perfeiftion of another kind ;* Each charm fo artfully expreft As ftill to mingle with the reft : Averfe and fhurming to be known, An object by itfelf alone, /^ r 4' r.

But thus combin'd they make a fpell Whofe force no human tongue can tell 3

A pow'rful magic which my hreaft Will ne'er be able to refift : For as fhe flights me or complies, Her conftant lover lives or dies.

FABLE XH.

THE RAKE AND THE HERMIT.

A YOUTH, a pupil of the town, Philofopher an ; d atheift grown, Benighted on;e upon the road, Found out a hermit's lone abode, Whofe hofpitality in need Reliev'd the traveler and his freed, For both fufficiently were tir'd, Well drench'd in ditches and bemir'd. Hunger the firft attention claims ; Upon the coals a rafber flames,' Dry crufts, and liquor fomething ftale, Were added to make up a meal; At which our trav'ler as he fat By intervals began to chat.

'Tis odd, quoth he, to think what {trains Of folly govern forae folk's brains ! What makes you choofe this wild abode ? You'll fay, 'tis to converfe with God : Alas, I fear, 'tis all a whim : You never faw or fpol f. with him. They talk of Providence's pow'r, And fay it rules us every hour ; To me all nature feems cohfufion, And fuch weivi fancies mere delufion. Say, if it rul'd and govern'd right, Could there be fuch a thing as night ; Which, when the fun has left the Ikiea, Puts all things in a deep difguife \ If then a trav'ler chance to ftray The leuft ftep from the public way, He's foon in endlefs mazes loft, As I have found It to my coft. Befides, the gloom which nature wears Aflifts imaginary fears Of ghofts and goblins from the waves Of iulph'rous lakes, and yawning graves; All fprung from fuperftitious feed, Like other maxims of the creed. For my part, I reject the tales Which faith fuggefts when reafon fails : And reafon nothing underftands, Unwarranted by eyes and hands. Thefe fubtle eflences, like wind, Which fome have dreamt 'of, and call mind,, It ne'er admits; nor joins the lie Which fays men rot, but never die. It holds all future things in doubt, And therefore wifely leaves them out: Suggefting what is worth our care, To take things prefent as they are, Our wifeft courfe : the reft ia folly, The fruit of fpleen and melancholy.

Sir, quoth the hermit, I agree That reafon ftill our guide fhould be : And will admit her as tjie teft, Of what is true, and what is beft : But reafon fure would blnfh for fhame At what you mention in her name ; Her dictates are fublime and holy ; Jmpiety's the child of folly ;

FABLES.

6-7

Reafon with meafur'd fteps nd flow,

To things above from things below

Afcends, and guides us through her fphere

With caution, vigilance, anC care.

Faith in the utmoft frontier ftands,

And reafon puts her in her hands,

But not till her commiffion giv'n

Is found authentic, and from heav'u.

'Tis ftrange that man, a reas'ning creature,

Should mifs a god in viewing nature :

Whofe high perfections are difplay'd

In ev'ry thing his f hands have made :

Ev'n when we think their traces loft,

When found again, we fee them moft ;

The night itfelf which you would blame

As fomething wrong in nature's frame,

Is but a curtain to invert

Her weary children, when at reft :

Like that which mothers draw to keep

The light off from a child aflcep.

Befide, the fears which darknefs breeds

At leaft augments in vulgar heads,

Are far from ufclefs, when the rniud

Is narrow, and to earth conn'n'd ;

They make the worldling think with pain

On frauds and oaths, and ill-got gain ;

Force from the ruffian's hand the knife

Tuft rais'd againft his neighbours life ;

And in defence of virtue's caufe

Affift each fandlion of the laws.

Bat fouls ferene, where wifdom dwells,

And fuperftitious dread expells,

The filent majefty of night

Excites to take a nobler flight :

'With faints and angels to explore

The wonders of creating pow'r ;

And lifts on contemplation's wings

Above the fphere of mortal things :

Walk forth and tread thofe dewy plains

\Vhere night in awful filence reigns;

The iky's i'erene, the air is ftill,.

The woods ftand lift'ning on each hill,

.^To catch the founds that fink and Aveit

'Wide-floating from the ev'ning bell,

While foxes howl and beetles hum,

Sounds which make filence ftill more dumb;

And try if folly ram and rude

Dares on the facred hour intrude.

Then turn your eyes to heav'n's broad frame,

Attempt to quote thofe lights by name,

Which Ihine fo thick and ipread fo far j

Conceive a fun in every liar,

Round which unnumber'd planets roll,

, While comets flioot athwart the whole.

From fyftem ftill to fyftem ranging,

Their various benefits exchanging,

And fhaking from their flaming hair

The things moft needed every where.

Explore this glorious fcene, and fay

That night difcovers lefs than day ;

That 'tis quite ufelefs, and a iign

That chance difpofes, not defign :

Whoe'er maintains it, 1*11 pronounce

Him either mud or elfe a dunce.

For reafon, though 'tis far from ftrong,

Will foon.find out that nothing's wrong,

From figns and evidences clear,

Of wife contrivance every where.

The hermit ended ; and the youth Became a convert to the truth ; At leaft he yielded, and confeft That all was order'd for the beft.

FABLE XIII.

ZROEBUS AND THE SHEPHERD.

CANNOT think but more or lefs ['rue merit always gains fuccefs ; That envy, prejudice, and fpite, Will never link a genius quite, experience mows beyond a doubt, That worth, though clouded, will flune out. The fecond name for epic fong, Firft claffic of the Enghfh tongue,

reat Milton, when he firft appear'*!, Was ill receiv'd and coldly heard : [n vain did faction damn thofe lays, Which all pofterity (hall praife : Is Dryden or his works forgot, for all that Buckingham has wrote ? The peer's Iharp fatire, char^'d with fcufr, Give's pleafure at no one's exper-.ce : The bard and critic both infpirM By Phoebus, fhall be ftill admir'd : 'Tis true that cenfure, right or wrong, May hurt at firft the uobleft fong, And for a while defeat the claim Which any writer has to fame : A mere book-merchant with his tools Can f\vay with eafe the herd of fools : Who on a moderate computation Are ten to one in every nation Your ftyle is ftiff your periods halt--- In every line appears a fault The plot and incidents ill-fortcd No fingle character fuppocted Your fimiles will fcarce apply; The whole misfhapen, dark, and dry. All this will pafs, and gain its end On the belt poem e'er was pennM ; But when the firft aflaults are o'er, When fops and wirlings prate no more, And when your works are quite forgot By all who praife or blame by rote : Without felr-intereft, fpleen, or hate, The men of fenfe decide your fate : Their judgment ftands, and what they fay G<iins greater credit ev'ry day } Till groundlefs prejudice* pair, True men; has its due at lalt. The hackney fcribblersof the town, Who were the firft to write you down, Their malice chang'd to admiration, Promote your growing reputation, And to excefsof praife proceed ;. But this fcarce happens till you're dead, When fame for genius, wit, and fkill^ Can do you neither good nor ill ; Yet, if you wouW not be forgot, They'll help to keep your name afloat.

An aged fwain that us'd to feed His flock upon a mountain's head, Drew crowds of fliepherds from each bHI, To hear and profit by his flail- For ev'ry limple of the rock, That can qijend or cure a flock^

THE WORKS OF W1LKIE.

He us ? d to mavk, and knew its pow'r

In ftem ar^d foliage, root and flow'r.

Befide all'this, he could foretel

Both rain and furjfhine palling well;

By deep fagacity he'd find,

The future (hiftings of the wind ;

And guefs moft flirewdly ev'ry year

Jf mutton would be cheap or dear.

To tell his (kill in ev'ry art,

Qf which he underftood a part,

His fage advice was wrapt in tales,

Which oft perfuade when reafon fails;

To do him juftice every where,

Would take more time than I can fpare,

And therefore now fhall only touch

Upon a fact which authors vouch ;

That Phcebus oft would condefcend

To treat this '(hepherd like a friend :

Oft when the folar chariot paft,

Provided he was not in hafte,

He'd leave his deeds to take freih breath,

And crop the herbage of the heath;

While with the twain a turn or two

He'd take, 'as landlords uie tp do,

When fick of finer folks in town,

They find amufement in a clown.

One morning when the god alighted,

His winged ftee;b look'd wild and frighted;

The whip it feems had not been idle,

One's traces broke, another's bridle:

Aji four were fwitch'd in every part,

Like common jades that draw a cart,

Whofe fides and haunches all along

Show the juft meafure of the thong.

Why, what's the matter, quoth the fwain, My lord, it gives your fervant pain ; Sure i'-nne offcnce is in the cafe, I read it plainly in your face. -

Offence, quoth Phcebus, vex'd and heated; 'Tis one indeed, and oft repeated ; Since firft I drove through heav'n's high-way, That's before yefterday, you'll fay, The envious clouds in league with night Conipire to intercept my light; Rank vapours breath'd from putrid lakes, The ileains of common few'rs and jakes, Which under ground fliould be conrin'd, Nor fuffer'd to poi'.ute the \vind; Efcap'd in air by various ways, Extinguiffi or divert my rays. Oft in the morning, when ray fteeds Above the ocean lift their heads, And when I hope to fee my beams Far glittering on the woods and ftrearrs ; A ridge of lazy clouds that fieep Vpon the furface of the deep, Receive at once, and wrap me round In fogs extinguifh'd half and drown'd. But rhark m'y purpofe, and by Styx I'm not foon alter'd when 1 fix ; If things are fuffer'd at this pafs, I'll fairly turn my nags to grafs : Ne more this idle round I'jl dance, But let all nature take its chance.

If, quoth the fhepherd, it were fit To argue With the god of wit, I could a circumftance fuggeft That would alleviate, things at leaft.

That clouds oppofe your rifiog light

Full oft, and lengthen out the night,

Is plain ; but foon they difappear,

And leave the iky ferene and clear ;

We ne'er expedfc a finer day,

Than when the morning has been gray ;

Btrfides, thofe vapours which confine

You iffuing from your eaftern (hrine,

By heat fublim'd, and thinly fpread,

Streak all the ev'ning (ky with red:

And when your radiant orb in vain

Would glow beneath the weftern main,

And not a ray could reach our eyes,

Unlefs reflected from the fkies,

Thofe wat'ry mirrors fend your light

In ftreams amidft the fhades of night :

Thus length'ning out your reign much more

Than they had fhorten'd it before.

As this is fo, I mull maintain

You've little reafon to complain i

For when the matter's underftood,

The ill fcenes balanced by the good ;

The only diftVence in the cafe

Is that the mifchief firft takes place,

The compenfation when you're gone

Is rather ibmewhat late, I own :

But fince 'tis fo, you'll own 'tis fit

To make the beft on't, and fubmit.

FABLE XIV.

THE BREEZE AND THE TEMPEST.

T^AT nation boafts a happy fate, Whofe prince is good, as well as great ; Calm peace at home with plenty reigns, The law its proper courfe obtains; Abroad the public is refpecled, And all its int'refts are protected : But when his genius, weak or ftrong> Is by ambition pointed wrong, When private greatnefs has poflefs'd, In place of public good, hisbreaft, 'Tis certain, and I'll prove it true, That ev'ry mifchief muft enfue. On forne pretence a war is made, The citizen muft change his trade ; His fteers the hulbandman unyoke*, The fhepherd too muft quit his flocks, His harmlefslife andhoneft gain, To rob, to murder, and be flain : The fields, once fruitful, yield no more Their yearly produce as before : Each ufeful plant neglected dies, While idle weeds licentious rii'e Unnumber'd, to ufurp the land Where yellow harvefts us'd to ftand. Lean famine foon in conrfe fucceeds; Difeafes follow as fhe leads. No infant bands at clofe of day In ev'ry village fport and play. The ftreets are throng'd with orphans dying For want of bread, and widows crying ; Fierce rapine walks abroad unchain'd, By civil orde,r not reftrain'd : Without regard to right and wrong, The weak are injur'd by th,e ftrong.

FABLES.

The hungry mouth but rarely taftes The fatt'ning food which riot waftes ; All ties of conference lofe their force, Ev'n facred oaths grow words of courfe. By what ftrange caufe are kings inclin'd To heap fuch mifchief on mankind ? What pow'rful arguments controul The native dictates of the foul ? The love of glory and a name .Loud-founded by the trump of fame : Nor fhall they mifs their end, unlefs Their guilty projects want fuccefs. ,

Let one poffefs'd of fov'reign fway Invade, and murder, and betray, Let war and rapine fierce be hurl'd Through half the nations of the world ; And prove fuccefsful in a courfe Of bad defigns, and actions worfe, At once a demigod he grows, And incens'd both in verfe and profe, Becomes the idol of mankind ; Though to what's good he's weak and blind; Approv'd, applauded, and refpected, While better rulers are neglected. Where Shott's airy tops divide Fair Lothian from the vale of Clyde, A tempeft from the eaft and north Fraught with the vapours of the Forth, In palling to the Irifli feas, Once chanc'd to meet the wcftern breeze. The tempeft hail'd him with a roar, " Make hafte and clear the way before ; No paltry zephyr muft pretend To fland before me, or contend : Begone, or in a whirlwind toft Your weak cxiftence will be loft."

The tempeft thus : The breeze reply'd 44 If both our merits (hould be try'd, Impartial juftice would decree 1 hat you fhould yield the way to me."

At this the tempeft rav'd and ftorm'd, Grew black and ten times more deform'd. What qualities, quoth he, of thine, Vain fiatt'ring wind, can equal mine ? Breath'd from fome river, lake or bog, Your rife at firft is in a fog; And creeping flowly o'er the meads Scarce ftir the wifjows or the reeds; While thofe that feel you hardly know The certain point from which you blow. From earth's deep womb, the child of iire, Fierce, active, vigorous, like my fire, I rulh to light ; the mountains quake With dread, and all their forefts fhake. The globe itfelf convuls'd and torn, Feels pangs unuiual when I'm born : Now Free in air with fov'reign fway, 1 rule, and all the clouds obey : From eaft to weft my pow'r extends, Where day begins, and where it ends :


 * And from Bootes downwards far,


 * Athwart the track of ev'ry ftar.

v Through me the polar deep difdains

To flcep in winter's frofty chains ;

. But rous'd to rage indignant heaves

Huge rpcks of ice upon its waves :

While dread, tornados lift on high

The broad Atlantic to the fky.

I rule the elemental roar,

And ftrew with ihipwrecks ev'ry fhore t

Nor lefs at land my ppw'r is known

From Zembla to the burning zone.

I bring Tartarian frofts to kill

The bloom of fummer ; when I will

Wide defolation doth appear

To mingle and confound the year :

From cloudy Atlas wrapt in night,

On Barka's fultry plains I light,

And make at once the defert rife

In dufty whirlwinds to the Ikies ;

In vain the traveller turns his ffeed,

And (buns me with his utmoft fpeed ;

I overtake him as he flies,

O'erblown he ftruggles, pants, and dies;

Where fome proud city lifts in air

Its fpires, I make a defart bare ;

And when I choofe, for paftimes fake,

Can with a mountain fhift a lake ;

The Nile himfelf, at my command,

Oft hides his head beneath the fand,

And 'midft dry defarts blown and toft,

For many a fultry league is loft

All this I do with perfect eafe,

And can repeat whene'er I pleafe :

What merit makes you then pretend

With me to argue and contend,

When all you boaft of force or (kill

Is fcarce enough to turn a mill,

Or help the fwain to clear his corn,

The fcrvile talks for which you're born ? .

Sir, quoth the breeze, if force alone Muft pafs for merit, I have none ; At leaft I'll readily confefs That your's is greater, mine is lefs. But merit rightly underftood Confifts alone in doing good; And therefore you yourfelf muft fee That preference is due to me : I cannot boaft to rule the flcics Like you, and make the ocean rife,. Nor e'er with fhipwrcck's ftrew the fhore, For wives and orphans to deplore. Mine is the happier taflc, to pleafe The mariner, and fmooth the feas, And waft him fate from foreign harms To blefs his confort's longing arms. With you I boaft not to confound The feafons in their annual round, And mar that harmony in nature ' That comforts ev'ry living creature. But oft from warmer climes I bring Soft airs to introduce the fpring ; With genial heat unlock the foil, And urge the ploughman to his toil : I bid the op'ning blooms unfold Their ftreaks of purple, blue, a And waft their fragrance to impart That new delight to er'ry heart, Which makes the fhepherd all day long To carol fweet his vernal fong : The fummer's fultry heat to cool, From ev'ry river, lake and pool, K iij

THE WORKS OF

I fkim frefh airs. The tawny fwain, Who turns at noon the furrow'd plain, Refrefli'd and trufting in my aid, His tafk purfues and icorns the fhade : And ev'n on Afric's lulti : v coafl, Where fuch immenfe e:.plf s youboaft, I blow to cool the panting flocks 'Midft defarts brown and lun-burnt rocks, And health and vigour oft fupply To fuch aslanguifh, faint and die: Thofe humbler offices you nam'd, To own I'll never be afham'd, With twenty others that conduce To public good or private ufe, The mean eft of them far outweighs The whole amount of all your praife ; If to give happinefs and joy, Excels the talent to deflroy.

The tempeft, that till now had lent Attention to the argument, Again began (his patience loft) To rage, to threaten, huff and boaft : Since reafons fail'd, refolv'd in courfe The queftion to decide by force, And his weak oppofite to brave The breeze retreated to a cave To fhelter, till the raging blaft Had fpent its fury and was paft.

FABLE XV.

THE CHOW AND THE OTHER BlfcDS. Containing an ufeful lint to tie Critics.

I*r ancient times, tradition fays,

When birds like men would ftrive for praife ;

The bulfinch, nightingale, and thrum,

With all that chant from tree or bum,

Would often meet in fong to vie ;

The kinds that fing not, fitting by.

A knavifh crow, it feems, had got

The nack to criticife by rote :

He underftood each learned phrafe,

As well as critics now-a-days :

Some fay, he learn'd them from an owl,

By lift'ning where he taught a fchool.

'Tis ftrange to tell, this fubtle creature,

Though nothing mufical by nature,

Had learn'd fo well to play his part,

With nonfenfe couch'd in terms of art,

As to be own'd by all at laft

Director of the public tafte.

Then puff'd with infolence and pride,-

And fure of numbers on his fide,

Each fong he freely criticis'd ;

What he approv'd not, was defpis'd:

But onefalfe ftep in evil hour

For ever ftript him of his pow'r.

Once when the birds affembled fat,

All lift'ning to his formal chat ;

By inftinct nice he chanc'd to find

A cloud approaching in the wind,

And ravens hardly can refrain

Vrom croaking when they think of rain ;

His wonted feng he fung : the blunder

Amaa'd and fcar'd them worfe than thunder ;

For no one thought fo harfh a note Could ever found from any throat : They all at firft with mute furprife Each on his neighbour turn'd his eyes: But- fee m fucceeding focn took place, And might be read in ev'ry face. All this the raven faw with pain, And ftrove his credit to regain.

Quoth he, The folo which ye heard In public fhould not have appear' d : The trifle of an idle hour, To pleafe my miftrefs once when four : My voice, that's fomewhat rough and flrong , Might chance the melody to wrong, But, try'd by rules, you'll find the grounds Moft perfect and harmonious founds. He reafon'd thus ; but to his trouble, At every word the laugh grew double : At laft o'ercome with fname and fpite, He flew away quite out of fight.

FABLE XVI.

THE HARK AND THE PARTAN (a).

THE chief defign of this fable is to give a flrne fpecimen of the Scotch dialect, where it may he fuppofed to be moft perfect, Hiamely, in Mid-Lothian, the feat of the capital. The ftyle is precifely that of the vulgar Scotch ; and that the mattter might be fuitable to it, I'chofe for the fubjedt a little ftary adapted to the ideas of peafants. It is a tale com monly told in Scotland among the country people ; and may be looked upon as of the kind of thofe Aniles Fabellas, in which Horace ob- ferves his country neighbours were accuilomed

\ to convey their ruftic philofophy.

A CANNY man willfcarce provoke

Ae (c) creature livin, for a joke ;

For be they weak or be they ftrang (</)

A jibe (<?) leaves after it a ftang (f)

To mak them think on't ; and a laird (g )

May find a beggar fae prepair'd,

Wi pawks (/&) and wiles, wharpith (/') is wantin,

As foon will mak him rue his tauntin.

Ye hae my moral, if ana able All fit it nicely wi a fable.

'(a) A crab.

(b) A canny manfignjfies nearly the fame tbing as it prudent man : but when the Scotch fay that a perfan is not canny, they mean not that they are imprudent, but mifciievQus and dangerous, if the term not canny it applied to perfons without being explained, it charges them luitbforcery and iintihcraft.

One.

(a 1 } The Sc,otcb always turn o in the fyllable ong, into a. lit place o/"long, they fay langj/s tangs; as here ftrang, /o/'ilrong.

(e) Afatiricaljejl.

(/) Sting.

QJ-) A gentleman of an ejlate inland*

(h} Stratagems.

(i). Strength.

A B L E S.

A hare, ae morning, chanc'd to fee A partan creepin on a lee (^'), A fifhwife (/) wha was early oot Had drapt (/) the creature thereaboot. Mawkin bumbas'd (o) and frighted fair (p) To fee a thing but hide and hair (y), Which 'if it ftur'd not might be ta'en \r) For naething ither than a ftane (/), A fquunt-wife (/) wambling, lair befet Wi gerfe and raflies (iv} like a net, Firlt thought to rin (x) for't ; for bi kind A hare's nae fetcher (y), ye maun mind (*). But feeing that wi (a) aw its ftrength %

It fcarce coujd creep a tether length , The hare grew baulder (c ) and cam near, Turn'd playfome, and forgat her fear. Quoth Mawkin, Was there ere in nature Sae fecklefs (), or am miflacn The way to gang (/") or ft and its lane (g).

(/) A piece of ground let run into grafs for pajlure.

(?) A ivoman that fells fijb. It it to be cbfitved, that the Scotch alivays ufe' the ivo d ivife "where the ILnglt/b ivonld ufe the ivord ivoman.

(w) Dropt.

A cant name for a Hare, like that f Reynard for a Fox, or Grimalkin for a Cat, t3*t.

(/) Sore. I fiall ofiferve, once for all, that the Scotch avoid the voioels o and u ; and have in in numerable injlances Jupplied their places ivitb a ' and e, or diphthongs in ivhicb thefe Utters an predomi nant.

(?) Without hide and hair,

(r) Taken.

(s) Nothing other than aj}6ne.

(/) Obliquely or af/juat.

(u) A feeble motion like that of a ^ivorm or fcr- fent.

(') Grafs and rufbes. The vowel e ivbich comes in place of a, is by a mctathefis put between the confo- nants g and r, tofofien the found.

(x) Run.

(y^ Fighter.

( c) Tou mujl remcinler. ' (a\ With all.

(b} The length of a rope tifed to confine tattle when they pajlure, to a particular f tot.

(c) Bolder.

(d) Feeble. Fcckful and fecklefs fig weak, Ifuppofefrom the verb to effect.

(e) Knoivs, or I am in a mijlakt. (/) Go.

(f) Alont, tr tvith#it ajjiftmict.

See how if fteitters ; ill be bund (/) To rin a mile of up-hill grund Before'it gets a rig-braid frae (i) The place its in, though doon the brae (/).

Mawkin wi this began to friflc, And thinkin (OT). there was little rifle, Clapt baith her feet on Parta'ri's back, And turn'd him awald irt a crack. To fee the creature fprawl, her fport Grew twice as good, yet prov'd but fhort. For parting wi her fit (o), in play, Juft whar the partan's nippers lay, He gript it faft, which made her fqueel, And think fhc bourded (/>) wi the deil. She ftrave to rin, and made a fiftle : The tither catch'd a tough bur thriftle (q) ; Which held rhem baich, till o'er a dyke A herd cam (lending (r) wi his tyke (/), And fell'd poor mawkm, fairly ruein. Whan forc'd to'driak of her ain brewin (/).

(h ) Walls in a .loedijlumbllng tvay.

(/) / ivil! be bound.

(je) The breadth of a ridge front. In Scotland aSout four fathoms.

(/) An afent or decent. It is worth obferving* that the Scotch 'when they mention a r'tnnv ground ivitb refpcfl to the. whole of it, they call it u knau, iffmall, and a hill, if gre*it ; but if they reflect only one fide of either, they call it a brae, ivhich is probably corruption of the Englifa tvord brow, according to the analogy I mentioned before.

(>a) Thinking. When polyfyllables terminate in ing, the Scotch almoft always iiegleft the g, ivhich foflftis the

-, Foot.

(/) To bourd ickb any perfon is to attack bim in the uvay of jtjl. \

(?) Ybijllc. The Scotch, though they commonly af- ficl foft fdunds, and throiv out confonantt and take in voiuels, in ordtir to obtain them, yet in fame cafes, of ivbich this is an example, they do the very reverfe ; and bring in fuperjluous confonants to roughen the found, ivben fucb founds are more agreeable to the rougbnefs of the thing reprefented.

(r) Leaping.

B reiving. '*' Tf> drink of one's oivn Ireiving" is a 'proverbial exprejjion, for fuffering the efftcls of^ one's oivn mifcorduft. The Englijb fay t Ai they t fo let tbem brent"

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

A DIALOGUE.

THE AUTHOR AND A FRIEND.

RE take your papers. Have you loek'd them 3, half a dozen times, I think, or more, ^o'er ?

HERE

Yes.

And will they pafs ? They'll ferve but for a day ;

Few books can now do more : You know the way;

A trifle's puff'd till one edition's fold,

In half a week at moft a book grows old.

The penny turn'd's the only point in view ;

So ev'ry thing will pafs if 'tis but new.- By what you fay I eafily can guefs

You rank me with the drudges for the prefs ;

Who from their garrets fhow'r Pindarics down,

Or plaintive elegies to lull the town.

You take me wrong : I only meant to fay,

That ev'ry book that's new will have its day ;

The beft no more : for books are feldom read :

The world's grown dull, and publifhing a trade.

Were this not fo, could Oman's deathlefs ftrains,

Of high heroic times the fole remains,

Strains which difplay perfections to our view,

Which polifh'd Greece and Italy ne'er knew,

"With modern epics {hare one common lot,

This day applauded, and the next forgot ? Enough of this; to put the queftion plain,

Will men of fenfe and tafte approve my ftrain ?

Will my old-fafhicn'd fenfe and comic eafe

With better judges have a chance to pleafe ? The queftion's plain, but hard to be refolv'd ;

One little lefs important can be folv'd : The men of fenfe and tafte believe it true, Will ne'er to living authors give their due.

They're candidates for fame in diff 'rent ways/; One writes romances, anS another plays, A third prescribes you rules for writing well, Yet burfts with envy if you fhould excel. Through all fame's walks, the college and the

court,

The field of combat and the field of fport ; The ftage, the pulpit, fenate-houfe and bar, Merit with merit lives at conftant war.

, All who can judge, affedl not public fame; Of thofe that do the paths are not the fame : A grave hiftorian hardly needs to fear The rival glory of a fonneteer : The deep philofopher who turns mankind O^itc infide outwards, and difTecls the mind, Would look but whimfical and ftrangely out, To grudge fome quack his treatife on the gout. Hold, hold, my friend, all this I know, anc

more ;

An ancient bard * has told.us long before ; ' And by examples eafily decided, That folks of the fame trades are moffc divided. But folks of different trades that hunt for fame, Are conftant rivals, and their ends the fame ;


 * Hejtod,

t needs no proof, you'll readily confefs, That merit envies merit more or lefs : The paffion rules alike in thofe who fharc 3f public reputation, or defpair. Varrub has knowledge, humour, tafte and fenfe, Dould purchafe laurels at a fmall expence ; 3ut wife and learn'd, and eloquent in vain, Will Varrus help you to the mufe's crown, Which, but for indolence might be his own ? Timon with art and induftry afpires To fame; the world applauds him, and admires: rim on has fenfe, and will not blame a line He knows is good, from envy or defign : Some general praife he'll carelefsly exprefs, Which juft amounts to none, and fometimes lefs : But if his penetrating fenfe fhould fpy Such beauties as efcape a vulgar eye, So finely couch'd, their value to enhance, That all are pleas'd, yet think they're pleas'd by
 * ie deeps at eafe in pleafure's filken chain :

chance ;

Rather than blab fuch fecrets to the throng, He'd lofe a finger, or bite off his tongue. " Narciffus is a beau, but not an afs, He likes your works, but moft his looking-glafs ; Will he to ferve you quit his favourite care, Turn a book-pedant and offend the fair ? Clelia to tafte and judgment may pretend She will not blame your verfe, nor dares com mend :

A modeft virgin always fhuns difpute ; Soft rftrephon likes you not, and fhe is mute. Stern Ariftarchus, who txpecls renown From ancient merit rais'd, and new knock'd down, For faults in every fyllable will pry, Whate'er he finds is good' he '11 pafs it by.

Hold, hold, enough! All a<ft from private ends ; Authors and wits were ever flipp'ry friends :

But fay, will vulgar readers like my lays? When fuch approve a work, they always praife.

To fpeak my fentiments, your tales I fear Are but ill fuited to a vulgar ear. Will city readers, us'-d to better fport, The politics and icandals of a court, Well vouch'd from Grub-ftreet, on your pagespore, For what they ne'er can know, or knew before ? Many have thought, and I among the reft, That fables are but ufelefs things at beft : Plain words without a metaphor may ferve To tell us that the poor muft work or ftarve. We need no ftories of a cock and bull To prove that gracelefs icribblers muft be dull. That hope deceives ; that never to excel, 'Gainft fpite and envy is the only fpell. All this, without an emblem, I fuppofe Might pafs for fterling truth in verie or profe.

DIALOGUE.

Sir, take a feat, my anfwer will be long ; Yet weigh the reafons and you'll find them ftrong. At firft * when favage men in queft of food, Like lions, wolves and tigers, rang'dthe wood, They had but juft what fimple nature craves, Their garments (kins of beafts, their houies caves. When prey abounded, from its bleeding dam Pity would fpare a kidling or a lamb, Which, with their children nurs'd and fed at

home,

Soon grew domeftic and forgot to roam : From fuch beginnings flocks and herds were feen To fpread and thicken on the woodland green : With property, injuftice foon began, And they that prey'd on beafts now prey'd on man. Communities were fram'd, and laws to bind In focial intercourfe the human kind. Thefe things were new, they had not got their

names,

And right and wrong were yet uncommon themes: The ruftic fenator, untaught to draw Conclufion in morality or law, Of every term of art and fcience bare, Wanted plain words his fentence to declare ; Much more at length to manage a difpute, To clear, enforce, illuftrate, and confute ; Fable was then found out, 'tis worth your heeding, And anfwer'd all the purpofes of pleading. It won the head with unfufpefted art, And touch'd the fecret fprings that move the

heart :

With this premis'd, I add, that men delight To have their firft condition ftill in light. Long fince the fires of Brunfwick's line forfook The hunter's bow, and dropp'd the (hepherd's

crook :

Yet, 'midft the charms of royalty, their race Still loves the foreft, and frequents the chafe. The high-born maid, whofe gay apartments fliine With the rich produce of each Indian mine, Sighs for the open fields, the paft'ral hook, To fleep delightful near a warbling bropk ; And loves to read the ancient tales that tell How queens themfelves fetch'd water from the

well.

If ^his is true, and all affect the ways Of patriarchal life in former days, Fable nruft pleafe the ftupid, the refin'd, Wifdom's firft drefs to court the op'ning mind.

You reafon well, could nature hold her courfe, Where vice exerts her tyranny by force : Are natural pleafures fuited to a tafte, Where nature's laws are alter'd and defac'd ? The healthful Twain who treads the dewy mead, Enjoys the mufic warbl'd o'er his head : Ftcls gladnefs at his heart while he inhales. The fragrance wafted in the balmy gales. Not fo Silenus from his night's debauch, Fatigu'd and fick, he looks upon his watch With rheumy eyes and forehead aching fore, And ftaggers home to bed to belfh and fnore ;

difperfion of mankind, fell into perftB barbarifm, arid emerged from it again in the way which he defcribes, and not ofthofe who had laws and arts from the beginning by divine tradition.
 * The author /peaks oftbofe only, 'who, upon tke

For fuch a wretch in vain the morning glows, For him in vain the vernal zephyr blows : Grofs pleafures are his tafte, his life a chain Of feverifh joys, of laflStude and pain. Truft not to nature in fuch times as thefe, When all is off the hinge, can nature pleafe ? Difcard all ufelefs fcruples, be not nice ; Like fome folks laugh at virtue, flatter vice, Boldly attack the mitre or the crown ; Religion (hakes already, pufh it down : Do every thing to pleafe? You (hake your

head :

Why then 'tis certain that you'll ne'er fucceed : Difmifs your mufe, and take your full repofe ; What none will read 'tis ufelefs to compofe.

A good advice ! to follow it is hard. Quote one example, name me but a bard Who ever hop'd Parnaflus' heights to climb, That dropp'd his mufe, till fhe deferted him. A cold is caught, this med'cine can expel, The dofe is thrice repeated, and you're well. In man's whole frame there is no crack or flaw But yields to Bath, to Briftol, or to Spa: No drug poetic frensfcy can reftrain, Ev'n hellebore itfelf is try'd in vain : And though it does but little good or ill, Yet ftill it meets the edge of reformation, Like the chief vice and nuifance of the nation. The formal quack, who kills his man each day, f afles uncenfur'd, and receives his pay. Old Aulus, nodding 'midft the lawyers ftrife, Wakes to decide on property and life. Yet not a foul will blame him, and infift. That he (hould judge to purpofe, or defift. At this addrefs how would the courtiers laugh I My lord, you're always blundering: quit your
 * Tis quite incurable by human (kill ;

ft aft':

You've loft fome reputation, and 'tis beft, To fhift before you grow a public jeft. This none will think of, though 'tis more 'a

crime

To mangle (late-affairs, than murder rhyme. The quack, you'll fay, has reaibn for his killing, He cannot eat unlefs he earns his (hilling. The worn-out lawyer clambers to the bench That he may live at eafe, and keep his wench ; The courtier-toils for fomething higher far, And hopes for wealth, new titles and a (tar; While moon-ftruck poets in a wild-goofe chafe Purfue contempt, and begg'ry, and difgrace.

Be't fo : I claim'd by precedent and rule A free-born Briton's right, to play the fool : My refolution's fix'd, my courfe I'll hold. In fpite of all your arguments when told : Whether I'm well and up, or keep my bed, Am warm and full, or neither cloth'd nor fed, Whether my fortune's kind, or in, a pet Am banim'd by the laws, or fled for debt ; Whether in Newgate, Bedlam, or the Mint, I'll write as long as publishers will print.

Unhappy lad, who will not fpend your time To better purpole than in ufelefs rhyme : Of but one remedy your cafe admits, The king is gracious, and a friend to wits ; Pray write for him, nor think your labour loft, Your verfe may gain a penfion or a poft.

THE WORKS OF WILKIE.

May Heav'n forbid that this aufpicious reign Should furnifh matter for a poet's llrain ; The praife of conduct (ready, wife, and good, In profe is beft expreis'd and understood. Nor are thofe fov'reigns bleffings to their age Whofe deeds are fung, whofe a&ions grace the

ft age.

A peaceful river, whofe foft current feeds The conftant verdure of a thoufand meads, Whofe fhaded banks afford a fafe retreat From winter's blafts and fummer's fultry heat, From whofe pure wave the thirfty peafant drains Thofe tides of health that flow within his veins,

Pafles unnotic'd ; while the torrent ftrong Which bears the ihepherds and their flocks along, Arm'd with the vengeance of the angry ikies, Is view'd with admiration and furprife ; Employs the painter's hand, the poet's quill, And rifes to renown by doing ill. Verfe form'd for faifehood makes ambition fhine, Dubs it immortal, and almoft divine ; But qualities which fi&ion ne'er can raife It always lellens when it ftrives to praife.

Then take your way, 'tis folly to contend With thofe who fcnow their faults, but will not mend.

TBS

POETICAL WORKS

O F

RICHARD GLOVER, ESQ.

Containing

XEONIDAS, II LONDON 1 ,

POtiM ON NEWTON, \\ HOSIER'S GHOST,

13V. efc. &e. To which is prefixed,

THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR-

"! thy mind in various virtue ^wife, ach fcience claims, and makes each art thy prize ; With Newton, ioars familiar to the Iky, Looks nature through, Co .keen thy mental eye ; Or down descending on the globe below, Through humble realms of knowledge loves to flow^ Promifcuous beauties dignify thy breaft, By nature happy, as by ftudy bleft. Thou wit's Columbus! from the epic throne, New worlds defcry'd, and made them all our own. Thou firft through real nature dar'd -explore, JVnd waft her facred treafures to our Ihore. Nor Ariofto's fables fill thy page, Hor Taflb'-s points, but Virgil's fober rage. How fuft, how ftrong thy varied numbers move, Or fwell'd to glory, or diflblv'd to lave. <Corre& with cafe, where all the graces meet, Kervoufly plain, majeitically fweet : The Mufes will thy facrifice repay, Attendant \varbiing in -each heavenly lay.

THOMPSON.'* EPISTXE TO GLOVEX,

EDINBUR GH:

POINTED BT fiWNDEJLL ANJ* SON, ROYAL BANK. CLOSE. An*

THE LIFE OF GLOWER.

RICHARD GLOVER was born in St. Martin's Lane, Cannon Street, London, in 1712. He was the fon of Richard Glover, Efq. an eminent Hamburgh merchant in the city.

He received the whole of his education under the Rev. Daniel Sanxay, at Cheam fchool, a place which he afterwards delighted to vifit, and fometimes attended the anniverfary, held of late years in London, where he feemed happy in relating his juvenile adventures.

At this feminary he diftinguimed himfclf by the quicknefs of his progrefs, and early began to exhibit fpecimens of his poetical powers.

At the age of fixteen, he wrote a poem to the memory of Sir Ifaac Newton, prefixed to the M View of Sir Ifaac Newton's Phiiofophy," publilhed in 410, 1728, by his intimate friend Dr. Pemberton. " I have prefented my readers, ' fays Dr. Pemberton in the preface to this work, " with a copy of verfes on Sir Ifaac Newton, which I have jult received from a young gentleman, whom I am proud to reckon among the number of my deareft friends. If I had any apprehenfioa that this piece of poetry ftood in need of an apology; I fliould be defirous the readei might know that the author is but iixteen years old, and was obliged to finifli the compofition in a very fliort time, but I fliall only take the liberty_to obferve,' that the boldnefs of the digreffious will be belt judged of by tiiofe who are acquainted with Pindar.''

Confidering this poem as the composition of a fchool-bor, it will excite no fmall degree of fur- prife, as it pofiefies more claim to applaiife, and requires fewer allowances for faults, than pro ductions of fu :h an age are always allowed. To Glover may be applied what the prefent Earl of Orford faid of his friend Gray, " that he never was a boy."

Though pofiefied of talents which were calculated to excel in literature, he was content to de vote his attention to commerce, and at a proper period commenced a Hamburgh merchant j as ap pears from the following lines, with which he begins his poem called London.

Ye northern blafts, and Eurus, wont to fweep With rudeft pinions o'er the furrowed waves ; A while fufpend your violence, and waft From fandy Wefer, and the broad-mouth'd Elbe, My freighted veflels to the deftin'd more Safe o'er th' unruffled main-;

As a merchant he foon made a confpicuous Sgure ; but his commercial affairs did not occupy his whole attention. He ftill found leifure to cultivate the ftudy of poetry ; and continued to aflbciate with thofe who were eminent in literature and fcience ; eipecially among the party in oppofition to the adminiftration of Walpole.

One of his earlieft friends was Green, the ingenious but obfcure author of that truly original poem, intituled " The Spleen," xvhich, in 1737, foon after his death, was pubiiihed by Glover. This excellent performance contains the following prefageof his literary eminence, with an evident allufion to his Leonidas, which he had begun when very young.

But there's a youth that you can name, Who needs no leading (tnngs to fame, "VVhofe quick maturity of brain, The birth ot Pallas may explain :

Dreaming ot whofe depending fate, I heard Melpomene dfbate, This, this is he that war tore told, Should emulate our Greek* ot old; Intp-r'd by me with fa* rf d art, He fing!> and rules ttie varied heart; If Jove's dread *rgc rehearie, "We hear the thunder in his verfe ;

THEHFEOF GLOVER,

If he deicribe love turn'd to rage,

The furies riot on his page ;

If he fair liberty and law,

By ruffian power expiring draw,

The keener paffions then engage

Aright, and fanctify their rage ;

If he attempt difaftrous love,

We hear thofe plaints that wound the grove;

With him the kinder paffions glow,

And tears diftili'd from pity ficrtv.

On the aril of May 1737, he married Mifs Nunn, with whom he received a fortune of .I2,cool and in the fame month he published his Letnidas, an epic poem in nine bouks^ 4to, which com,- plctely eftablifhed his poetical reputation.

Leonidas was infcribed to Lord Cobham, and on its fir ft appearance, was rectived by the public with great approbation ; though it has fince been unaccountably negle<led.

But its favourable reception was not entirely owing to its intrinfic merits. At the time of its publication, a zeal, or rather rage for liberty, prevailed in England ; a constellation of great men; diftinguiflied by their virtues as well as their talents, fet themielves in oppolition to the Court ; every fpecies of competition that bore the facred name of freedom, recommended itfelf to their protection, and foon obtained poffeffion of the public favour. Hence a poem founded on the nobleit principles of liberty, and difplaying the molt brilliant examples of patriotifm, foon found its way into the world-

Lyttleton, then high in the ranks of oppofitipn, in a popular publication called Common Senfe, under the fignature cf Philo Mi/f&us t No. 10. April (j. 1737, praiftd it in the warmeit terms. Dr. Pemberton publiflied " Obfervations on Poetry, elpecialiy epic, occafioned by the late poem upon Leonidas" i2ino, 1738, merely with a view to point out its beauties; and it was praifcd by Thompfon, of Queen's College, and other poets. It paffed through three editions in 1737, and (738 ; but it afterwards experienced the fate of thofe literary pt eductions, which owe a temporary celebrity to the influence of party-principles, without deferving it.

The imprudent zeal of his friends had encouraged fuch extravagant ideas of it, that though it was found to have very great beauties, yet the ardour of the lovers of poetry foon funk into a kind, of cold forgetfulntfs with regard to it ; becauie it did not poflefs more than the narrow limits of the defign would admit of, or indeed, than it was in the power of human genius to execute. It vyas fevertly animadverted upon, in a fcries of letters addreffed " to the author of Leonidas," in thp " Weekly Miiccllany," for May 1738, under the fignature of Mifo-Mnfceus.

In 1739, he pubiiilied his London, or the Progrefs oj~ Commerce, 410; and foon after his ballad intituled Holers Cbojt ; both thefe pieces feem to hare been written with a view to incite the nation to refent the depredations of the Spaniards ; and the latter had a very confiderable effect.

His connection with Cobham, Lyttleton, Pitt, and other leaders of the oppofition, introduced him to the notice of Frederick Prince of Wales, then flruggling for popularity, and profeffing himfelf the patron of wit ; who diftinguiftied him by his countenance and patronage ; and once, it is faid, pre- fented him with a complete fet of the claflics, elegantly bound.

The political diflentions at this period, raged with great violence, and more efpecially in the metropolis. In 1739, Sir George Champion, whp was next in rotation for the mayoralty, had of fended a majority of his conftituents, by voting with the Court party in the bufmefs of tiie Spanifh convention. This determined thera to fet him afide, and choofe the next to him in feniority ; ac cordingly Sir John Salter was chofen on Michaelmas day ; and on this occafion Glover took a very active part; as appears from " A Narrative of what pa fled ip the Common Hall of the City of London, affernbled for the election of a. Lord Mayor, on Saturday, the 2pth of September, on Mon day the ift arid Tuefday the ad of October; together with a defence of thefe proceedings, both as reasonable and agreeable to the practice of former times,'' 8vo, 1739, wrjten by Benjamin Robins, tbp fuppofed author of " Lord Anfon's Voyage."

In 1740, the fame refolution of thq majority continuing, Glover prefided at Vintner's Hall, September 95th, at a meeting of the Livery, te confider of two proper p^rfcms to be recommended

THE LIFE OF GLOVER. 4*p

to the Court of Aldermen ; when it was refolved to fupport the nomination of Sir Robert Godfchall, and George Heathcote, Efq. who being returned to the Court of Aldermen, the latter gentleman was chofen ; but he declining the office, another meeting of the Livery was held at Vintner's Hall, October 1 3th, when Glover again was called to the chair, and the meeting refolved to return Humphry Parfons, Efq. and Sir Robert Godlchall, to the Court of Aldermen, who made choice of the former to fill the office.

On the ipth of November, another meeting was held at Vintner's Hall, when Glover pronoun ced an eulogium on Sir John Barnard, and advifed the Livery to choofe him one of their reprefen- tatives in Parliament, notwithftanding his intention to reiign.

On all thefe occafions, Glover acquitted himfeif in a very able manner. His fpeeches, printed in the" London Magazine," 1740, and the ' Annals of Europe," 1743, p. 283, are elegant, fpirited, and adapted.

His talents for public fpeaking, his knowledge of political affairs, and his information concern ing trade and commerce, foon after pointed him out to the merchants of London, as a proper peribn to conduct their application to Parliament, on the fubject of the neglect of their trade. He ac cepted the office, and in fumming up the evidence, gave very ftriking proofs of his oratorical powers.

This remarkable fpeech was pronounced at the bar of the Houfe of Commons, January 27. 1743, and foon afterwards publifhed under the title of Ajtort account of the late application to Parlia ment, made by the merchants of London, upon the ncgleEt of their trade, with the fubjlance there upon asfumrned up by Mr. Glover, Svo, 1742.

By his appearance in behalf of the merchants of London, he acquired, and with great juftice, the character of an able and fteady patriot ; and, indeed, on every occafion, he fliowed a moll per fect knowledge of, joined to the molt ardent zeal for, the commt rcial interefts of the nation, and inviolable attachment to the welfare of his countrymen in general, and that of the city of London in particular.

In 1744, died Sarah Duchefs of Marlborough, and by her will left to Glover and Mallet, 500!. each, to write the hiftory of the Duke of Marlborough. Of Glover, her grace fays, " that flie believes him to be a very honell man, who wiflied, as (he did, all the good that could happen to prefer ve the liberties and laws of England."

This bequeft never took place. It is luppofcd that Glover very early renounced his fliare ; and Mallet, though he continued to talk of performing the talk, almolt as long as he lived, is now known never to have made the lead progrefs in it.

About this period, having in confequence of unavoidable lofles in trade, and perhaps, in fome meafure, of his zealous warmth for the public interefts, to the neglect of his own private emolu ments, fomewhat reduced his fortunes, he withdrew a good deal from public notice, and preferred, with a very laudable delicacy, an obi'cure retreat to popular observation, until his affuirs fhould pat on a more profperous appearance.

While he lived in obfcurity, known only to his friends, and declining to take any active part iri public affairs, the Prince of Wales, it is faid, lent him, on account of the embarraliment of his cir- cumftances, 500!.

The Prince died in March 1751, and in May following, Glover was once more drawn from hi* retreat by the importunity of his friends, and condefcended to ftand candidate for the place of Chamberlain of the City of London, in oppofition to Thomas Harrifon, Efq.

It unfortunately happened, that he did not declare himfeif till moft of the Livery had engaged their votes. After a few days, finding that his antagonift gained ground upon the poll, he gave up the conteft on the 6th of May. Mr. Deputy Harrifon was declared duly elected, May 7th, and oil this occafion, Glover made the following fpeech to the Livery, which exhibits the feelings of a, manly, refigned, philofophical mind, in unprofperous circumstances.

" Heretofore, I have frequently had occafion of addrerting the Livery of London in public ; but at this time I find myfelf at an unufual lofs, being under all the difficulties which a want of matter deferving your notice, can create. Had I now your rights and privileges to vindicate, had I the caufe of your fuffering trade to defend, or were I now called forth to recommend and enforce the jparliaaieaUry fervice of the jnoft virtuous and illuftrious citizen, my tongue would, Ije free from

47* "HIE LIFE OF GLOVER,

- conftraint, and expatiating at large, would endeavour to merit your attention ; which now muft be confined to fo narrow a fubject as myfelf. On thofe occafions, the importance of the matter, and my known zeal to ferve you, however ineffectual my attempt might prove, were always fufficient to promiie me the honour of a kind reception, and unmerited regard. Your countenance firft drew me from the retirement of a ftudious life ; your repeated marks of diftinction firft pointed me out to that great body, the merchants of London, who, purfuing your example, condefcended to intruft me, unequal and unworthy as I was, with the rnoft important caufe ; a caufe where your intereft was as nearly concerned as theirs. In confequence of that deference which has been paid to the lentiments and choice of the citizens and traders of London, it was iropoffible but fome faint luilre muft have glanced on me, whom, weak as he was, they were pleafed to appoint the in- ihument on their behalf; and if from thefe tranfactions I accidentally acquired the fmalleft mare of reputation, it was to you, that my gratitude afcribes it ; and I joyfully embrace this public op portunity of declaring, that whatever part of a public character I may prefume to claim, I owe primarily to you. To this I might add the favour, the twenty years countenance and "patronage of one, whom a fupreme degree of refpect lhall prevent me from naming ; and thongh under the temptation of ufmg that name as a certain means of obviating fome mifconftructions, I fliall, how ever, avoid to dwell on the memory of a lofs fo recent, fo juftly, and fo univerfally lamented.

" Permit me now to remind you, that when placed by thefe means in a light not altogether un favourable, no lucrative reward was then the object of my purfuit ; nor ever did the promifes or offers of private emolument induce me to quit my independence or vary from the leaft of my for mer profefiions, which always were and remain ftill founded on the principles of univerfal liberty ; principles which I aflame the glory to have eftabliflied on your records. Your fenfe, and the fenfe of your great corporation, fo repeatedly recommended to your repreientativcs in Parliament, were my fenfe, and the principal boaft of all my compofitions, containing matter imbibed in my earlieft education, to which I have always adhered, by which I ftiil abide, and which I will endeavour to bear down with me to the grave; and even at that gloomy period, when deferted by my good fortune, and under the fevered trials ; even then, by the fame confiltency of opinions, and unifor mity of conduct, I Kill preferved that part of reputation which I originally derived from your fa vour, whatever I might pretend to call a public character, unlhaken and unblemi/hed ; nor, once in the hour of affliction, did I banilh from my thoughts, the motf fincere and confcientious intention of acquitting every private obligation, as foon as my good fortune ihould pleafe to return ; a diitant appearance of which feemed to invite me, and awakened fome flattering expectations on the ru mour of the vacancy of the Chamberlain's office ; but always apprehending the imputation of pre- fumption, and that a higher degree of delicacy and caution would be requifite in me than in any other candidate, I forborej till late, to prefent myfelf once more to your notice, and then, for the firft time, abftracted from a public confideration, folicited your favour for my own private advan tage. My want of fuccefs fliall not prevent my cheerfully congratulating this gentleman on his election, and you on your choice of fo worthy a magiftrate; and if I may indulge a hope of depart ing this place with a {hare of your approbation and efteem, I folemnly from my heart declare, that I fliall not bear away with me the leaft trace of difappointment."

In his retirement, he finifhed the tragedy of Boadicea, which he had beguri many years before, and in 1753, it was brought on the ftage at Drury-Lane, and acted nine nights, with great fuccefs. From the following lines in the prologue, it appears to have been patronifed by his friends in the city.

Befide his native Thames, our poet long At length his mufe from exile he recals, Urg'd by his patrons in Augufta's walls, Thofe generous traders, who alike fuftain
 * t t. Hath hung his filent harp, and hufli'd his tongue ;

Thole generous traders, who anke fuftain ~) Their ration's glory on th' obedient main, -> And bounteous raife affliction's drooping train; J They who, benignant to his toils, afford Their flickering favour, have his mufe reftor'd> They in her future fame will juftly fhare, But her diigrace, herfelf muft fingly bear j Calm hours of learned leilure they have given, And could no more, for genius is from, heav'n

THE LIFE OF GLOVER. 471

Though there is- rat her a deficiency, both as to incident and characters in this play, yet the lan guage is veiy poetical, and the defcriptions beautiful. It is fuch a production as might be expected from the author of Leo?:idas ; but it feems better adapted to give pleafure in the clofet than the theatre. " To the moft material objections," fays Archbifliop Herring, writing to a friend, of this play, " the author would fay (a Shakefpeare muft in fome inftances) that he did not make, but told it as he found it. The firft page of the play fhocked me, and the Hidden and heated anfver of the Queen to the Roman arnbafiador's gentle addrefs, is, arrant madnefs; it is, indeed, unnatural. It is another objection in my opinion, that Boadicea is really not the object of crime and puuifli- ment, fo much as pity ; and notwithstanding the flrong paintings of her favagenefs, I cannot help wifliing flie had got the better. She had been mofl unjuftly and cutrageoufly injured by thofe uni- verfal tyrants, who ought never to be mentioned without horror. However, I admire the play in many paflages, and think the two laft acts admirable. In the fifth, particularly, I hardly ver found myfelf fo ftrongly touched." Dr. Pemberton publiflied " Some Reflections on the Tragedy of Boadicea," Svo, 1753, to recommend this play, upon the principle, that dramatic dia logue without incidents, and poetry without defcription, metaphor, or umiles, approach neareft t perfection, becaufe they approach neareft to nature. From tragedies written on this principle, verfe fhould alfo be rejected, as nothing can be a more evident or perpetual deviation from nature, than dialogue in verfe. Mr. Crifp Mills addrefied " A Letter to Mr. Glover, on occafion of his tragedy of Boadicea,'' Svo, 1753, in which he applauds him for the regularity of his piece, but cenfures him for omitting to introduce into it zplot or intrigue; without which, he thinks, afet of conne&cd dialogues can never be a play. A pamphlet intituled " Female Revenge, or the Britifli Amazon, exemplified in the life of Boadicea; with obfcrvations on the diction, fentiments, and conduct of the play," Svo, 1753* and other anonymous remarks, criticfms, and reflections, appear ed about this time, relating to this play.

In 1761, he published his Medea, a tragedy, 4to, taken from the dramas of Euripides, and Se neca, and conftructed profefiedly upon the ancient plap, each act terminating with a chorus. It was not acted till 1767, when it was brought on the ftage at Drury-Lane, for Mrs. Yates's be nefit, and has fince been often performed with fuccefs. Heinfms and Scaliger have called the " Medea" of Seneca, the Alta Medea; but that title more properly belongs to the work of Clover, which is fuperior both to the " Medea" of Seneca, and even that of Euripides. In Eu ripides, Medea tells us that flic murders her children becaufe flie would rather have them fall by her own hand, than by the hands of the Corinthians, which, as flie had effected the death of Creufa, flie might expect. This produces very little that is interefting or affecting. Indeed, when Jafon is informed of the murder of his children, he gives a loofe to parental forrow, but the altercations be tween him and Medea on that occafion, are very low and trifling. Seneca, with a greater appear*, ance of probability, imputes her murder to revenge. When Medea difcovcrs Jaforfs fond affection for his children, flie immediately meditates their deftruction. But when he defcribes her as deli berating upon this cruel deed, though very ingenious in his diftinctions, he is certainly too minute. Medea's motive to the murder, imputed, as it is by Glover, to the rage of madnefs, is much- more natural, and produces more affecting fcenes than could follow from the motives to which either the Greek or Latin poets have afcribed it, She appears in the work of our countryman, that wild, in furiate, fun-born Medea, which the ancient mythology reprefents her. Her indignation on the thought of Jafon"s deferting her for Creufa, is forcibly exprcfled. The pathetic manner of Euripides is hap. pily imitated in the tender conversation between Medea and her children in the fecond fcene of the third act. When flie is told by Jafon that he is married tg Crevfa, her fudden madnefs is well conceived, and exprefled in a grand and affecting manner. But when, ftill raving and diftracted, flie comes upon the ftage, her hands dropping with the blood of her children, her words and wild appearance perfectly harrow up the foul.

It is begun.

Now, to complete my vengeance, will I mount The burning chariot of my bright forefather j The rapid fteeds o'er Corinth will I drive, And with the fcatter'd lightnings from their manes Confume its walls, its battlements, and towers ; Then, as the flam.es embrace the purple clouds,

17* TH E LIFE OF GLOVER. - ^"^

And the proud city crumbles from its bale, u : ;: *

The demon of my rage and indignation "

All grim, and wrapt in terror, ihall beflride The mountainous embers ; and denounce abroad To gods and men, my wrongs and rny revenge.

When her returning reafon difcovers to her what (he had done, her horror and anguiflt ate dread ful, even beyotfd imagination. The tragedy ends, like that of Seneca, by reprefenting Medea. fhatched up into the air in a chariot drawn by dragons. The unities are preferved throughout, the diction in general is harmonious, poetical, and picturefque, animated in proportion to the fcenes it xeprefents, and riling or falling with the paffions. But the thoughts are fometimcs fpun too fine ; fome of the epithets, though not pedantic, are too ftiff, and the blank odes introduced t>y way of chorus, .though not inharmonious, mull be very difagrceable to ears long a-ccuftomed to rhyme i jyric compo&tions.

At length, having furmounted the difficulties of his fituation, he again relinquifhed the plea- fures of retirement ; and in the parliament which met at the acceffion .of his prefent Majefty, 1761, he was elected for Wejmouth. About this time, he interefted himfelf about India affairs, at one of Mr. Sullivan's flections, and in a fpeech introduced the fable of the " Man, Horfe, and Boar,'* and drew this conclufion, that whenever merchants made ufe of .armed forces to maintain their trade, it would end in their definition.

In 1770, he published 2. new edition (the fifth) oLeonidas, in 2 vols. izm'o, corrected through out, and extended from nine books to twelve. It had alfo feveral new characters added, befides placing the old ones in new fituations. The improvments made in it were very considerable ; but ihe public curiofity was not lurEciently alive to recommence the pains bellowed on this once po pular performance.

On the failure of the bank of Douglas, Heron, and Company, at Ayr, in June 1772, he took a very active part in the fettling thofe complicated concerns, and in flopping the diflrefs then fo uni- verfally felt. In February 1774, he called the annuitants of that banking-houfe together at the king's Arms Tavern, London, and laid propofals before them, for the fecurity of their demands, with which they were fully fatisfied.

He alfo undertook to manage the interefts of the merchants and traders of London, concerned! in the trade to -Germany and Holland, and of the dealers in foreign linens, in their application to Parliament in May 1774. Both the fpeeches made on thefe occafions were publifhed in a pamphlet in. that year.

In 1775, he engaged on behalf .of .the Weft India merchants, in their application to Parliament, ard examined the witnefles, and Cum-med up the evidence, in the fame mafterly manner he hadj done on former occafions. For the affiftance he afforded the merchants in this bufinefs he was com- j>limented by them with a fervice of plate of the value of 300!. The fpeech which he delivered in the Houfe was printed in that year. This was the lafl: opportunity he had of difplaying his orato rical talents rn public.

Having now arrived at a period of life which demanded a recefs from bufinefs, he retired to cafe and independence, ^nd wore out the remainder of his life with dignity and- with honour, in the xcercife of the virtues of private and domeftic life, and in his attention to his mufe. He died at his houfe in Albemarle-Street, November 25. 1785,. in the 7jd year of his age.

No edition of his Iut as it requires Fcenery of the moft expenfive Kind, it has never been exhibited. It is faid, indeed, that it was approved by Mrs. Yates, the magic of whofe voice and action in the firft part, produced as powerful effects as any imputed by Greek or Roman poets, to the character ihe reprefented. He has left fome other dramatic pieces, which, it is hoped, will be prefented to the world. His Leonidas, reprinted from the edition 1770, Poem on. Sir Jfaac Nenuton t London, and Hojret't Gboft, are now a for the firft tirne, received into a collec* Clascal Ersjjlilh poejry,

THE LIFE OF GLOVER. ^73

Tn folio-wing character of Glover, drawn up immediately after his death, by his friend Dr- Brocklefby, and printed in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1785, is adopted without exception, asr it contains an accurate and elegant eftimate of his virtue, his learning, his eloquence, his patriotism,, and his poetry.

" Through the whole of his life, Mr. Glover was by ail good men revered, by the wife efteem- ed, by the great fometimes carefled and even flattered, and now his death is fincerely lamented bj all who had the happinefs to contemplate the integrity of his character. Mr. Glover, for upward? of 50 years paft, through every viciflhude of fortune, exhibited the moft exemplary fimplicity of manners ; having early attained that perfect equanimity, which philofophy often recommends in: the clofet, but which in experience is too feldom exercifed by other men in the teft of trial. la Mr. Glover were united a wide compafo of accurate information in all mercantile concerns, with high intellectual powers of mind, joined to a copious flow of eloquence as an orator in the Houfe of Commons. Since Milton, he was fecond 1 to none of our Englifti poets, in his difcriminating ju dicious acquaintance with all ancient as well as. modern literature ; witnefs his Leonidat, Medea t Eoadicea, and London ; for, having formed his own character upon the belt models of the Greek writers, he lived as if he had be*n bred a difciple of Socrates, or companion of Ariftides. Hence his political turn of mind 1, hence his unwarped affection and active zeal for the liberties of his

country hence his heartfelt exultation whenever he had to paint the impious defigns of tyrants,

in ancient times fruftrated, or in modern defeated, defeated in their nefarious purpofes to extirpate liberty, or to trample on the uaalienaWe rights of man, however remote irr time or fpace from his immediate prefence. In a few words, for the extent of his various erudition, for his unalloyed pa- triotifm, and for his daily exercife and conftant practice of Xenophon's phiFofophy, in his private as well asm public life, Mr. Glover has left none his equal in the city, and fome time, it is feared, may elapfe, before fuch another citizen fhall arife, with eloquence, with character, and with poetry, like his, to affert their rights, or to vindicate with equal powers, the juft claims of free- born men. Suffice this teftimony at prefent, as the Well-earned meed of this truly virtuous man> whofe. conduct was carefully marked, and narrowly watched by the writer of the foregoing hafty fketch, for his extraordinary qualities during the leng period in human life of upwards of 40 years; and now it is fpontaneoufly offered as a voluntary tribute, unfolicited and unpvwchafed ; but as it appears joftly due to the memory of fo excellent a poet, ftatefman, and true phjJofopher, in life and death the fame.'*

This account of his private and public character, by one who knew him well, is fo ample and fatif- factory, that it leaves little to be added. In tha domeftic relations of hufband and parent, his manners were as amiable as his abilities were refpectable. In the character of a merchant he diftinguifhed himfelf by the moft exemplary integrity ; yet in fortune he made no advances toward* affluence. He was a patriot of the moft independent caft, and fcorning to bind himfelf about any one political party, was by all alike neglected. But there is a fame, not refulting from fo ptrifliable a means as the contention of parties, and alike out of their power to confer or take away, which will long flourim round the name of Glover.

As a poet his abilities are already well knoxvn. His Leonidas, though net m the higheft clafs of epic poems, had, at its firft publication, many admirers, and is ftill penifed with pleafure. The fub- ject of the poem is the gallant actions of Leonidas t and his heroic defence of, and fall at the pafs of Thermopylae. It is characterized by t bold fpirit of liberty, and generous, tender, and noble fentiments ; but it leans towards the tender rather than the fublime. The author every where ap pears to be a virtuous man, and a good citizen; he exprefles manly and patriotic fentiments; though many of them are taken from the orations of Lyfias and Ifocrates. The ftyle pofTefies many- poetical graces ; but it is often familiar and profaic, and is generally deficient in that awful fimpli city, and unadorned fubliraity which are the characteriftics of the epic mufe. It abounds in the affecting, the tender, and the beautiful, more than in the heroic and fublime. Some of the cha racters are well-drawn, and fupported with proper dignity and elevation. The epifode of Teribafus and Ariana, is poetical and pleafing. la its machinery and incident it has been thought defective ; but on no principle or reafon whatever, unlefs a fuperftitious reverence for the practice of Homer and Virgil. Thefe poets very properly embelUOied their ftory by the traditional tales and popular le-

474 THE LIFE OF GLOVER.

gends of rhelf own country ; but does it thence follow, that in other countries, and in other agej, epic poetry muft be wholly confined to antiquated fictions and fairy tales? Lucan has compofed a very fpirited poem, certainly of the epic kind, where neither gods nor fupernatural beings are at all employed. Davcnant has made an attempt of the fame kind, not without fuccefs ; and undoubted ly a poetical recital of great adventures^ though the agents be every one of them human, may be made productive of the marvellous, without forfaking the probable, and fulfil *he chief requifites of epic competition. Leonidas is not exactly founded upon the model of the Iliad of Honier, the ./Eneid of Virgil, or the Jerufalem of Taflb, the three moft regular and complete epic works that ever were compofed. But it affords a fufficient proof, that, however the ufe of machinery may heighten the effect, it is not eflential to the exiftence, or to the fuccefs of epic poetry. It has a juft title to be clafied with Milton's Paradife Loft, Lucan's Pharfalia, Statius's Thebaid, Camoen's Lufiad, Voltaire's Henriade, and Wilkie's Epigoniad. The diction, the characters, and the narration of the poet are diftinguifhed by the general flrain and fpirit of epic compofition. But it is not without defects. It is too abrupt and laconic in the itructure of its periods to fuit the melody of verfe, and is deficient in that poetical enthufiafm which is chiefly raifed and nourished by an inti mate acquaintance with the wild and fublime fcenes of nature, and that creative and vigorous ima gination, which presenting a' higher order of things than is to be found in human life, produces the marvellous, and raifes that admiration which mould be the predominant paffion in heroic poetry. Hence Thomfon, who was a poet truly infpired, when he heard that a citizen of London had paid his addrefles to the epic mufe, exclaimed, " He write an epic poem, who never faw a rnomn- tain !"

The excellencies of Leonidas have received every poffible recommendation and illuftration from the elegant critique of Lyttleton, and the learned " Observations" of Dr. Pemberton ; to which Mr. Murphy alludes in the following lines inferted in the lail edition of his " Epiftle to Dr. John- fon," 1786.

For freedom when Leonidas expires, Though Pitt and Cobham feel their poet's fires, Unmov'd, lo! Glover hears the world commend, And thinks even Pemberton too much his friend. .

" Since I have read Leonidas^ fays Lyttleton, Common Senfe, No. 10. " I have been fo full of all the beauties I met with in it, that to give fome vent, I found it neceffary to write to you, and; invite my countrymen to take part with me in the pleafure of admiring what fojuftly deferves their admiration. And in doing this I have yet a farther view ; I defire to do them good as well as jjJeafe them ; for never yet was an epic poem wrote with fo noble and fo ufeful a defign ; the whole plan and pnrpofe of it being to fliow the fuperiority of freedom over flavery ; and how much vir* tue, public fpirit, and the love of liberty, are preferable both in their nature and effects, to riches, luxury, and the infolence of power.

" This great and inflructive moral is fet forth by an action the moft proper to illuftrate it of all that ancient or modern hiftory can afford, enforced by the rooft fublime fpirit of poetry, and adorned by all the charms of an active and warm imagination, under the reftraint of a cool and fober judgment.

" And it has another fpecial claim tb protection; for I will venture to fay, there never was an epic poem which bad fo near a relation as this to Common Senfe ; the author of it not having allowed himfelf the liberty fo largely taken by his predecerTors, of making excursions beyond the bounds, and cut of fight of it, into the airy regions of poetical mythology. There are neither fighting gods, nor fcolding goddefles, neither miracles nor enchantments, neither monfters nor giants, in his work; but whatfoever human nature can afford that is raoft aftonifhing, marvellous, and fublime,

" And it has this particular merit to recommend it, that, though it has quite the air of an ancient epic poem, there is not fo much as a fingle fimile in it, that is borrowed from any of the ancients, and yet, I believe, there is hardly any poem that has fuch a variety of beautiful ccmparifcns j fojuft a confidence had the author in the extent, and rich abundance of his own ima gination.

THE LIFE OF GLOVER. 475

to the carrying on and ferving that defign ; the variety of characters, the great care to keep therrs. and diftinguifli each from the other by a propriety of fentiment and thought ; all thefe are excel- Jencie* which the beft judges of poetry will be particularly pleafed with in Leonidas.
 * The artful conduct of the principal defign ; the (kill in connecting and adapting every epifode

11 Upon the whole, I look upon this poem as one of thofe few of diftinguifhed worth and ex cellence, which will be Banded down with refpect to all pofterity, and which, in the long revolution- of part centuries, but two or three countries have been able to produce. And I cannot help congra tulating my own, that after having in the laft age brought forth a Milton, flie has in this produced twp more fuch poets, as we have the happinefs to fee flourilh now together, I mean Mr. Pope, and Mr. Glover."

Dr. Pemberton's obfervations on the principal characters in Leooidas, under the head " Senti ment and Character," are fubjoined ; as "tjthis is the part of poetry," as he expreffes it, " in which the divine invention is moft eminently diftinguiflied."

" Xerxes is an example of a little mind inflated with abfolute power. He is not only proud, im patient of contradiction, and precipitate, the natural effects of the adoration and blind fubmiflion, which had always been paid him; but we fee in him likewife many perfonal weakneffes. He is poffefled of fo mean a vanity, as to conclude his great and cxtenfive dominion a proof of his being fo. fingular a favourite of heaven, that no bounds could be fet to his good fortune : he had perfuadecf himfelf, that the Greeks muft have the fame abject veneration for him, as his own flaves ; and will fcarce believe, that his ambaffadors had made a true report, who bring him an anfwer contrary to what his foolifh pride had imagined ; and it is with extreme difficulty, that his brothers difluade him from proceeding againft them upon that fuppofition : nay, at laft he gives order for attacking the Greeks with the air of being ftill confident they muft fubmit to his will without refiftance. We foon after find this haughty and infolent monarch indued with a temper fo weak and fickle, that upon a little ill fuccefs all his vain prefumption and confidence abandon him, and he condsfcends to the propofing conditions, which, before, his pride could not have fuffered him to think of without the utmoft indignation.

" In his brother Hyperanthes we fee a good character, but confined to the virtues, which can have place under arbitrary government. He is valiant, fo far unprejudiced, as to be duly fenfible of the fuperior virtue in his enemies; but had no reluctance to commit any kind of injuftice towards them, when his brother had pitched upon them for a conqueft. Other- wife he has great good nature, and a juft efteem for real merit. This appears in his behaviour towards Demaratus, the Spartan exile, and much more in his fingular affection for his friend Teribafus.

" Teribqfus pofiefles a very worthy mind, improved by the ftudy of philofophy, but opprefled by the violence of a foft paffion ; a weaknefs, which the luxury, and the indulgence for pleafure in an Afiatic court muft have greatly increafed. But Teribqfus behaves not under this paffion like the whining lovers of romance, who excite our contempt ; but in fo manly and reafonable a man ner, that makes him an objeft of juft compaffion, and ftill worthy the efteem of every one, that has any feeling for human weakness.

But unreveal'd and filent was his pain : Nor yet in folitary (hades he roam'd, Nor (hun'd refort ; but o'er his forrows caft A fickly dawn of gladnefs, and in fmiles Conceal'd his anguifli j B. v. ver. 5*,

.though ftill

the fecret flame Rag'd in his bofom, and its peace confum'd.

Ibid. ver. 54.

<* Ar'uma. is ftill a lefs exceptionable fubject of pity., as we do not fo much require in that fer Srmnels of temper to refift thefe foft impreffions. Her defpair and violent rcfolution in confequerice f it arc the cS$&* of an excels of paffion very natural t the ferious and thoughtful turn f her

47* THE LIFE OF GLOVED.

" This epifode is a fhinlng ornament in the poem, as fuch a tender fcene Is a judicious relief to tne feverity, whrch is the general cafl of the work, and is founded upon a kind of diflrefs, which Ariftotle exprefsly prefers, fuch as arifes from fome error in a pcrfon of great and confpicuous worth. Too frequent a reprefentation of calamities abfolutely unavoidable, ferve only to dejedl the fpirits, and create a difrelifh for life ; but fuch as are grounded upon pardonable errors, whether excefs of any paffion, or defect of judgment, inftruct, while they excite commiferation.

" PdlyJorus, the attendant upon Ariana, is an example of an heroic fpirit fo oppreffed by the flower of his age being wafted in flavery, as to have loft all tafte of life. In lefs elevated characters, long continued calamity debafes the mind, and confines its wiflies to mean gratifications; but in the generous breaft of Polydorus it ends in unfurmountable grief. The only pleafure, to which we find him feniible, is revenge.

" In Demaratus t the exiled king of Sparta, we have another example of unmerited diftrefs, but of a more delicate kind. He, cherifhed in a luxurious court, with all the ordinary means of enjoy ment in his power, pines away at the fenfe of being out of a condition to aft worthy of himfelf. In his interview with Polydurus he even fufpects and laments a diminution of his virtue. In his converfation with Xerxes, though at firft he endeavours to fpeak of his countrymen with as much referve as poffible ; yet we foon fee his admiration of their virtues carry him out with great freedom in their praifes, and he cannot refrain drawing the parallel between the military force of Greece and of Afia, in terms very difagreeable to the monarch, whofe protection he was forced to accept i and in the end breaks into a flood of tears.

.Afide

His head he turn'd, and wept in copious ftreams, &c.

" We ought not to pafs over another obfervation upon this dialogue ; the great diftinctnefs with which the argument is here explained. The poet has been able to give every proof its due place and force unreftrained by the numbers of his verfe.

" If .we are prefented in the Perfian army with patterns of ill fortune, on which we muft reflect xvith regret ; when we turn o.ur eyes to the Grecian camp, we find a very different fcene. There magnanimity is matched againft the greateft difficulty human nature can have to contend with, the certain expectation of death : but the fortitude and vigour of mind, by which thefe heroes are fupport- ing unhappy : on the contrary, they are continually tfre objects of our admiration, almoft of our envy. This ardent fpirit {nines out moft eminently in Leonia'as, their chief; but from him diffufes it- felf through them all : though there is not a fingle leader of eminence among them, which the poet has not marked with a character peculiarly his own.
 * d, place them quite out of the fight of pity ; not a fingle circumftance fuggefts a thought of their be

" The active vigour of Atybeus is very diflinct from the deliberate valour of Dieneces.

" The ambition of Megljlias is confined to merit the effceem of the people, by whom he is enter tained. Upon this principle he animates his fon in the fourth book, and the fame is his motive for (baring their laft fate.

" The filence with which Menalippus obeys the command of his agc'd father to provide for his owh fafety, is, I think, very judicioufly imagined. For though it is not neceffary, that every gallant man fhould have the refolution to make a voluntary facrifice of his life ; yet the want of the fame high fpirit, by which the reft are animated, muft imprefs on him that confcioufnefs of hie inferi ority, and create that degree of confufion, which of neceffity muft clofe his lips.

" The gentle and polite character ofAgis renders him in particular worthy the intimate friend- fhip of the great Leonldas ; in whom humanity and a genteel turn of mind diftinguifh themfelves among his more fublime virtues.

" The fiercenefs of Dlomedon makes indignation and high contempt of an effeminate enemy, Whom he had formerly feen to fly before him, a ruling motive in his conduct.

" In Demophilus we fee a fpecuktive temper, where cool reflection fupports an aged mind, and fupplies the fire of youth, This draws from him thofe inftructive fentiments, which he utters over the body of Pbraortes. There is the fame air in the fhort addreis at his firft interview with Leonldas. And the fame appears again, when he makes his choice for himfelf and all hit troops to accompany

THE LIFE OF GLOVER. 4 8 X

f,e*niJas in his laft fate. The fublimity of this character diflinguifhably appearr'upon this- oCcafiou towards his kinfman Ditbyrambus.

" The aged Megiftias will not permit his font to finifh his life with himfelf. But though Dem** pbilus bears the affection of a parent to his, the fuperior turn of his mind makes him fonder of the lory than of the life of Ditbyrambut.

" Ditbyrambus poficffes, in an eminent degree, the amiable character of high merit accompanied Vvith equal modefly. His ambition is ever to dcferve praife rather than receive it. He choofes Di medon for his conftant companion in action, his wifli being to equal the greatefl. And at the fame time he is an admirer of all virtue but his own.

" This moderation, and delicacy of mind, create that reluctance, with which he engages Terl* tafus, whofe virtues, though in an enemy, he held in high efteem. In this fcene the poet ha* brought together feveral characters, and fupported each with great fuccefs. The gloomy cafl of mind, which ever accompanied Ttribafus, here appears without breaking his fpirit. The impa tience with which Hyperantles advances forward, when he hopes to fee his friend victorious, the cagernefs, with which he flies to revenge upon his difappointment, and the fudden fufpenfe of that fefolution to aflift his dying friend, with the return of his indignation, as foon as his friend expires, are ftrong effects of that warmth of heart becoming a firm amity.

" The refpective characters of thefe two heroes are alfo well preferved in the manner, wherein each takes his refolution to fliare the glory with Leonidas in his fatal cataftrophe. The fierce intre pidity of Diomedon prompts him to appear the foremoft of all in this high-fpirited refolution ; and Dilbyramlns with the modefly peculiar to his character, is felicitous to throw an humble fhade ver his own glory.

" For brevity I pafs over the leffer characters of the poem ; though they alfo are diftinctly mark ed. The favage fiercenefs of Pbraortes, the vain arrogance of Tigranes y the diffidence and hypo- crify of Anaxander, and the confidence in villany of Efiialtes, are very manifefl.

" The character of Leonidas is the moft diflinctly exhibited of any, being placed in a greater va riety of lights. We fee him in council, in the army, in his family, and 'm his retirements. His firft appearance in the Spartan council fhows us the ruling principle of his mind. The general principle, upon which valiant and heroic actions are founded,' is, that there are occafions, which" make it reafonable to put life in hazard. And we daily fee this principle exerted in very different degrees in proportion to the meafure of courage and fpirit of different men. But Leonidas extends this principle fo far, and has formed fo exalted a conception of virtue, as to think it neceffary for a great man to place the defire of life wkolly out of the queftion.

other men, yet it appears abfolutely natural ; becaufe his motives are not of a different nature from thofe of others, but only improved in degree.
 * It is upon this foot, that notvvithftanding the character of Leonidas is raifcd fo far above that of

' When Leonidas is retired, and the warmth of heart excited by the public prefence is fo far abated, that he is Jcft without reftf aim to his cool reflections, the poet has taken care not to outrage his cha racter by diverting him of human nature ; but we fee thofe ftruggles, which mud rieceffarily pafs through the mind of the greateft man upon fo extraordinary an occafion. Here he is not without natural fears; but has a fpirit in his moft deliberate moments to overcome them. His principal mo tive is the public good ; though he is alfo not infenfible to the fame which muft accompany fo me* ritorious an action.

" Cold men have confidered this fublime degree of that defire of praife, which is implanted in ur nature, as a weaknefs ; but it is certainly a part of LeoniJas's character to hold it in high efteem; for as he has recourfe to it for the fuppoft of nis own mind, fo in his firft fpeech to his follower* on their arrival at Thermopylae, he excites them to act with their utmofl vigour upon the lame motives.

" In his family another part of his churacteV appears. He la there tender and affectionate, but ftill able to fupprefs the fe cret motions of his own heart, when it was neceffary for infpiring his queen with fpirit to fupport a calamity unavoidable. And accordingly, he does in part raife and calm her mind. But when the fudden warning for his d^ parture has renewe^ her grief, that fhe faints in bis arms, and he is left, us it were, alnc tt himtclf 5 he breaks out into a degree af tender*

VOL, XI,' J* k

4*4 TH LIFE O GLOVER.

nefs, that fhows all his foregoing refolution to be the effect ef true firmnefs of mind, mot of in-* fenfibility.

" We next fee him before the general council of Greece, And here he a<5ls a new part. In the Spartan council he exerts a fpirit and vigour, that commands all who hear him ; but now he gives his advice with the moderation of one more difpofed to be directed than authoritatively to influ* cnce an afiembly, to whofe prudence the general ftates of the country had intrufted the conduct of their affairs.

" He is next brought into the field, and fhown in the midft of thofe dangers, to which, for the public fervice, he had fo freely offered himfelf. And here the fame refolution fupports him to per form with the greateft coolnefs all the offices of a Ikilful and prudent commander, to contemn in his laft hours every peril, and to meet his fate with no lefs firmnefs than that, wherewith he firfl ac cepted of it, at a diftance in the council of Sparta.

" Thus I think our author in his principal Grecian heroes, and moft eminently in Leonidas their leader, has reprefented with fingular ftrcngth, and truth, virtuous characters of high fpirit fuperior to the greateft misfortunes 1 ; which is an achievement Plato thought the moil difficult of all poetical imitation."

The author of the " Remarks on Leonidas, in the " Weekly Mifcellany," No. 234. after taking jhotice of feveral faults and improprieties, concludes thus : " I ought in juilice to confefs to thole readers who may chance not to have read Leonidas, that though there are faults fufficient to juftify the oppofition I made to it, yet there are beauties more than fufficient to repay them the trouble- in reading it over."

In the Athenaid, which is a poetical hiflory of the wars between the Greeks and Perfians, in thirty books, he propofes revenge for the death of Ltonidas, as the great fubjec-l of his* poem. The following is the exordium :

The Perfians vanquifli'd, Greece from bondage fav'd, The death of great Leonidas WrjfV, By Attic virtue celebrate O mufe !

The conclusion is in the fame ftrain,

-Night drops her fbad

On thirty millions flaughter'd. Thus thy death

Leonidas of Sparta 'was avcng d ;

Greece thus by Attic virtue was preferv'd.

It is indeed fo much a counterpart to Leonidas, though flill more profile, as to fuperfede the necef- fity of a particular critique. Events that are the fubjccl of authentic record, are ill adapted to epic foetry. At the fame time, the hiftorical tranfadions of every age, are capable of poetical arrange ment, and poetical cmbellifhment. But the narrow and limited view which he has taken of his fubject, removes its grandeft and moft dignified afpedt, and renders the epic mufe inferior to the hiftorical. Many of the epifodes, however, are affecting and pathetic ; and fome of tne characters are well drawn, particularly thofe of Themi/iodes and Arijlides. But the importance and dignity of the events recorded are much diminiflied by the poetical mode of narration, and ftrike us lefs than in the original hiftorian.

His London requires no diftinct examination. The fubjccl:, which is the origin and progrefs of com merce, is peculiarly interefting to- Britons ; and the compofition difcovers a vigour of invention, a force ef defcription, a dignity of fentiment, and a facility of expreffion, not unworthy of the author of Leo- nidas t His Hoficrs Ghoft is one of the moft pathetic and beautiful ballads in the Englifh language.

THE WORKS OF GLOWER.

LEONIDAS: A POEM.

IN TWELVE BOOKS.

iaei'Of, fyot parser, <*

FIND. OLYMP. OD. I.

PREFACE.

To illuftratc the following poem, to vindicate the fubje& from the cnfure of improbability, aud to fhow, by the concurring evidence of the bell hif- torians, that inch difmtercfted public virtue did once exift, I have thought it would not be impro per to prefix the fubfequcnt narration.

While Darius, the facher of Xerxes, was yet on the throne of Perfia, Cleomenes and Demaratus were kings in Lacedemon, both defcended from Hercules. Demaratus was unfortunately expofed by an uncertain rumour, which rendered his legi timacy fufpected, to the malice and treachery of his colleague, who had conceived a perfonal re- ientment againft him ; for Cleomenes, taking ad vantage of this report, perfuaded the Spartans to examine into the birth of Demaratus, and refer the difficulty to the oracle of Delphi ; aud was af- iifted ia his perfidious defigns by a near relation of Demaratns, named .Leutychicies, who afpircd to fucceed him in his dignity. Cleomenes found means to corrupt the prieitefs of Delphi, who de clared Demaratus not legitimate. Thus, by the bafe practices of his colleague Cleoments, and of his kinfman JLeutychides, Demaratus was expelled from his regal office in the commonwealth, a JLa- rcdcmonian, diftinguiflisd in adlion and counfel, and the only king of Sparta, who, by obtaining the Olympic prize in the chariot-race, had increai- exl the luifcre of his country. He went into volun tary banifhtnent ; and, retiring to Afia, was there protected by Darius, while Lcutychides fucceeded to the regal authority in Sparta. Upon the death of Cleomenes, Leonidas became king, who ruled in conjunction with this Leutychides, when Xerxes, the fon of Darius, invaded Greece. The number ci land and naval forces which accdropajiied tkat 4

monarch, together with the fervarits, women, and other ufual attendants on the army of an eaileru prince, amounted to upwards of five millions, as reported by Herodotus, who wrote within a few years after the event, and pabiicly recited his hif- tory at the Olympic games. In this general af- fembly, not only from Greece itfelf, but from every part of the world, wherever a colony of Grecians was planted, had he greatly exceeded the truth, he muft certainly have been detected, and cenfured by fome among ib great a multi tude ; and fuch a voluntary faliehood mult have entirely deftroyed that merit and authority, which have procured to Herodotus the veneration of all posterity, with the appellation of the Father of Hif- tory. On tlie iirft news of this attempt on their liberty, a convention, com poled of deputies from the feveral ttaces of Greece, was immediately held at the iithmus of Corinth, to confuk on proper meal'ures for the public &fety. The opartans aifo lent meiTengers to inquire of the oracle at Jjeipht into the event of the war, who returned with an aafwer from the prieftefs of Apollo that either a king, descended from Hercules, rnuft die, or La- cedemoa would be entirely detlfoyed. Leonidas immediately offered to lacriftce his life for the pre- fervation of Laccderaon ; and, marching to Ther mopylae, pofleffed himleif U' that uaportant pafa with three hundred of his countrymen; who, with the forces of Ibme other cities in the Peloponnelus, together with che Thebans, Thefpians, and the troops of thofe ftates, which, adjoined to Thermo-, pyla;, compofed an army of ncaf ight thoufand Hie a.

Xerxes was now advanced as far as Thefialia; when, hearing that a fmall bodv of Grecians wss Hhij

4*4

1* R E tf A C- E.

aflembled at ThcrftapylaJ, With fome Lacedemo nians at their head, and among the reft Leonidas, dependent of Hercules, he difpatched a fingle horfeman before to obferve their numbers, and difcover their defigns. When this horfeman ap proached, he could not take a view of the whole camp, which lay concealed behind a rampart, for merly raifed by the Phocians at the entrance of Thermopylae on the fide of Greece; fo that his whole attention was engaged by thofe who were on guard before the wall, and who at that inftant chanced to be the Lacedemonians. Their manner and geftures greatly aftonifhed the Perfian. Some were amufing themfelves in gymnaftic exerciies ; others were combing their hair ; and all difcover- ed a total difregard of him, whom they fuffered to depart, and report to Xerxes what he had feen ; which appearing to that prince quite ridiculous, jhe fent for Demaratus, who was with him in the camp, and required him to explain this ftrange behaviour of his countrymen. Demaratus inform ed him, that it was a cuftom among the Spartans to comb down and adjufl their hair, when they were determined to fight till the laft extremity. Xerxes, notwithftanding, in the confidence of his power, fent ambafladors to the Grecians to de mand their arms, to bid them difperfe,- and be come his friends and allies ; which propofals be ing received with difdain, he commanded the Medes and Ciflians to feize on the Grecians, and bring them alive into his prefence. Thefe nations immediately attacked the Grecians, and were foon Tepulfed with great flaughter; frefh troops ftill fucceeded, but with no better fortune than the jfrrft, being oppofed to an enemy not only fuperior in valour and refolution, but who had the advan tage of difcipline, and were furnilhed with better arms, both ofFenii ve and defenfive.

Plutarch, in his Laconic Apothegms, reports, that the Perfian king offered to invert Leonidas with the fovereignty of Greece, provided he would join his arms to thofe of Perfia. This offer was too confiderable a condefcenfion to have been made before a trial of their force, and muft therefore liave been propefed by Xerxes after fuch a fenes of ill fuccefs, as might probably have depreffed the infolence of his temper ; and it may be eafily admitted, that the virtue of Leonidas was proof stgainft any temptations of that nature. Whether tliis be a fa& or not, thus much is certain, that Xerxes was reduced to extrejne difficulties by this refolute defence of Thermopylae, till he was extri cated from his diftrefs by a Malian, named Epial- . tes, who conducted twenty thoufand of the Per- iian army into Greece through a pafs, which lay higher tip the country among the mountains 6 Oeta ;" wherea* the paffage at Thermopylae was, iituated on the feaihore between thofe mountains and the Malian bay. The defence of the upper pafs had been committed to a thoufand Phociaus who, upon the firft fight of the enemy, inconfider- ately abandoned their {ration, and put themfelves in array upon a neighbouring eminence ; but the iPerfians wifely avoided an engagement, and with the utmoft expedition marched to Thermopylae.

Leonidas no fooner received information that the Barbarians had paffed the mountains, and wouh ion be. i a fiuatwn to taour.d bjjn, than he

commanded the allies t retreat, referving; tfie hree hundred Spartans, and four hundred The- >ans, whom, as they followed him with reluc- ance at firft, he now compelled to flay. But the Thefpians, whofe number amounted to feven hun dred, would not be perfuaded by Leonidas to for-* Take him. Their commander was Demophilus; and the moft eminent amongft them for his va lour was Dithyrambus, the fon of Harmatides. Among the Lacedemonians, the moft confpicuou*- next to Leonidas was Dieneces, who being told that the multitude. of Perfian arrows would ob- fcure the fun, replied, the battle would then be in the made. Two brothers, named Alpheus and Maron, are alfo recorded for their valour, and were Lacedemonians. Megiftias, a prieft, by birtk an Acarnanian, and held in high honour at Spar ta, refufed to defert Leonidas, though entreated by him to confult his fafety, but fent away his only fon, and remained himfel behind to die with the Lacedemonians.

Herodotus relates, that Leonidas drew up hi men in the broadeft part of Thermopylae, where, being encompaffed by the Perfians, they fell with great numbers of their enemies; but Plutarch, Diodorus Siculus, and others, affirm, that the Gre cians attacked the very camp of Xerxes in the night. Both th',-fe difpofitions are reconciieable to probability. He might have made an attack on the Perfian camp in the night, and in the morning withdrawn his forces back to Thermo pylae, where they would be enabled to make the. moft obftmate rt fiftance, and fell their lives upo the dearcft terms. The aclion is thus defcribed by Diodorus : " The Grecians, having now re- " jected all thoughts of fafety, preferring glory to- " life, unanimouHy called on their general to lead " them againft the Perfians, before 'they could be " apprifed that their friends had pafled round the " mountains. Leonidas embraced the occafion, " which the ready zeal of his foldiers afforded, " and commanded them forthwith to dine as mea " who were to fup in Elyfium. Himfelf, in con " fequence of this command, took a repaft, as the " means to furnifh ftrength for a long continu- " ance, and to give perfeverance in danger. Af- " ter a fbort refreftiment, the Grecians were now " prepared, and received orders to aifail the ene- " mies in their camp, to put all they met to the " fword, and force a paffage to the royal pavi- " lion ; when, formed into one compact body with, " Leonidas himfelf at their head, they marched " againft the Perfians, and entered their camp at " the dead of night. The Barbarian*, wholly un- u prepared, and blindly conjecturing that their " friends, were defeated, and themfelves attacked " by the united power of Greece, hurry together " from their tents with the utmoft diibrder and " confirmation. Many were flain by Leonidas " and his party, but much greater multitudes by " their own troops, to whom, in the midft of this " blind confufioti, they were not diftinguifhable " from enemies; for as night took away the " power of difcerning truly, and the tumult was " fpread univerfally over the camp, a prodigious " command, of a watch-word, and of confidence
 * flaughter muft naturally enfuc. The want of
 * in themfelves, reduced tlie Perfiang t fuch, a.

P R E F

ilate of confufion, that they deflroyed each o- ther without diftinction. Had Xerxes conti nued in the royal pavilion, the Grecians, with out difficulty, might have brought the war to a fpeedy conclufion by his death ; but he, at the beginning of the tumult, betook himfclf to flight with the utmoft precipitation ; when the Gre cians, rufhing into the tent, put to the fword moft of thofe who were left behind; then, while night lafted, they ranged through the whole camp in diligent fearch of the tyrant. When morning appeared, the Perfians, perceiving the true flate of things, held the inconfiderable num ber of their enemies in contempt, yet were fo terrified at their valour, that they avoided a near engagement; but enclofing the Grecians on every fide, fhowered their darts and arrows upon them at a diftance, and in the end de- ftroyed their whole body. In this manner fell the Grecians, who, under the conduct of Leo- nidas, defended the pafs of Thermopylae. All muft admire the virtue of thefe men, who with one confent maintaining the poft allotted by their country, cheerfully renounced their lires for the common fafety of Greece, and efteemed a glorious death more eligible than to live with clilhojiour. Nor is the confternation of the Per fians incredible. Who among thofe Barbarians -could have conjectured fuch an event ? Who could have expected that five hundred men would have dared to attack a million ? Where fore fhall not ail poflerity reflect on the virtue of thefe men as the object of imitation, who, though the lofs of their lives was the neceflary confequence of their undertaking, were yet un- conquered in their fpirit; and among all the great names delivered down to remembrance, are the only heroes who obtained more glory in their fall, than others from the brighteft. vic tories ? With juitice may they be deemed the prefcrvers of the Grecian liberty, even prefer ably to thofe who were conquerors in the bat tles fought afterwards with Xerxes ; for the memory of that valour, exerted in the defence of Thermopylae, for ever dejected the Barba rians, while the Greeks were fired with emu lation to equal fuch a pitch of magnanimity. Ujon the whole, there never were any before

ACS. 4 8/

" thefe who attained to immortality, through the " mere excefs of virtue ; whence he praife of their " fortitude hath not been recorded by hift'orians " nly, but hath been celebrated by numbers of " poets, among others by Simonides the lyric."'

Paufanias, in his Laconics, confiders the defence of Thermopylae by Leonidas as an action fuperior to any achieved by his cotcmporaries, and to all the exploits of preceding ages. " Never (fays he) " had Xerxes beheld Greece, and laid in alhes the " city of Athens, had not his forces under Hy- " dames been conducted through a path over " mount Oeta, and by that means encompaffiner " the Greeks, overcome and (lain Leonidas." Nor is it improbable, that fuch a commander at the head of fuch troops fhould have maintained his poft in fo narrow a pafs, till the whole army of Xerxes had periflied by famine. At the fame time his navy had been miferably (battered by a ftorm, and worfted in an engagement with the Athenians at Artemifium.

To conclude, the fall of Leonidas and his brave companions, fo meritorious to their country, and fo glorious to themfelves, hath obtained fuch a high degree of veneration and applaufe from paft ages, that few among the ancient compilers o hiftory have been filent on this amazing inftanca of magnanimity and zeal for liberty ; and many are the epigrams and infcriptions now extant, fome on the whole body, others on particulars, who died at Thermopylae, ftill preferving their memory in every nation converlant with learn ing, and at this diftance of time ftill rendering their virtue the object of admiration and of praife.

I fhall now detain the reader no longer, than to take this public occafion of expreffing my fmcere regard for the Lord Vifcount Cobham, and the fenfe of my obligations for the early honour of his friendfhip; to him 1 infcribe the following poem ; and herein I fhould be juftificd, independ ent of all perfonal motives, from his Lordfhip'a public conduct, fo highly diftinguilhed by his dif- interefted zeal and unfhaken fidelity to his coun try, not lefs in civil life than in the field : *to him, therefore, a poem, founded on a character emi nent for military glory, and love of liberty, is due from the nature of the fubject.

R. GLOVER.

BOOK L

THE ARGUMENT.

XERXES, kingof Pf rfia. havingdrawn together the whole force of his empire, and paflVd over the flellelpont into Thrace, with a defion to con quer Greece ; the deputies from the feveral Itates of that country, who had fome time be- fqre aifembled themfelves at the Ifthmus of Co rinth, to deliberate on proper meafures for re- fifting the invader, were no fooner apprifed of
 * iis march into Thrace, than they determined,

without further delay, to difpute his paflage at the ftreights of Thermopylae, the moft accef- fibie part or Greece on the fide of Thrace and ThelTaly, Alpheus, one of the deputies from Sparta,' repairs to that city, and comtnuni-? cates tlm refolution to his countrymen : who chanced that day to be afiembled in expectation of receiving an anfwer from Apollo, to whomj they had lent a eflenger to confult about thq event cf the war. Lentychides, one ef

THE WQRK5 QF GLOVER.

two kings, eounfels the people to advance no farther than the Iflhnms of Corinth, which fe- parates the Peloponnefus, where Lacedernon was fituated, from the reft of Greece ; but Le- onidas, the other king, diffuades them from it. Agis the meffenger, who had been deputed to Delphi, and brother to the queen of Leonidas, returns with the oracle; which denounces ruin to the Lacedemonians, iinlefs one of their kings lays down his life for the public. Leonidas of fers himfelf for the victim. Three hundred more are appointed, all citizens of Sparta, and heads of families, to accompany ar.d die with him at Thermopylae. Alpheus returns 'to the Ifthmus. Leonidas, after an interview with his queen, departs from Lacedernon. At the end of fix days he encamps near the Iftbmus, when he is joined t>y Alpheus; who defcribes the auxiliaries, then waiting at the Ifthmus, thofe who are already pouleffed of Thermopylae, as alfo the pafs itfelf ; and concludes with re lating the captivity of his brother Polydorus, in Perfia.

THE virtuous Spartan, who refign'd his life To fave his country at th' OetJean ftreights, Thermopylae, when all the peopled ea& In arms with Xerxes filFd the Grecian plains, O mufe, record! The Hellefpont they pafs'd, O'erpow'ring Thrace. The dreadful tidings fwift To Corinth flew. Her Ifthmus was the feat ' Of Grecian council. Alpheus thence returns To Lacedenaon. In atfembly full He finds the Spartan people with their kings j Their kings, who boaft an origin divine, From Hercules defcended. They the fans Of Lacedemon had conven'd, to leant The facred mandates of th' immortal gods, That morn expected from the Delphian dome. 33ut Alpheus fudden their attention drew, And thus addrefs'd them : For immediate war, My countrymen, prepare. Barbarian tents Already fill the trembling bounds of Thrace. The Ifthmian council hath decreed to guard Thermopylae, the Locrian gate of Greece.

Here Alpheus paus'd. Leutychides, who fharM With great Leonidas the fway, uprofe And fpake: Ye citizens of Sparta, hear. Why from hcfbofom fhould Laconia fend Her valiant race to wage a diftant war Beyond the Ifthmus? There the gods hare plac'd Our native barrier. In this favoured land, Which Pelops goverrt'd, us of Doric blood < That Ifthmus inacceffible Secures. There let our ftandards reft. Your folid ftrength, If once you fca'tter in defence of ftates Remote and feeble, you betray your own, And merit Jove's derifion. With aflfent The Spartans heard. Leonidas reply 'd :

O moft ungen'rous courfeK Mott unwife I Shail we, confining to that Ifthmian fence Our efforts, leave beyond it ev'ry ftate j)ifo\vn'd, expos'd? Shall Athens while her fleets Unceafipg watch th' innumerable foes, And truft th' impending dangers of the field To S raid's well-known v;iiour, ihallfhe hear, T! ..i. u barbarian violence we leave Her uiipioiec.ted wails ? Her hoary fires,

Her helplefs matrons, and their infant race 1 , To fervitude and fhame ? Her guardian god> Will yet preterve them. Neptuwe o'er his main, With Pallas, pow'r of wifdom, at their helms, Will foon traniport them to a happier clime, Safe from infulting foes, from faife allies, And eleutherian Jove will bleis their flight. Then fhall we feel the unrefiPred force Of Perfia's navy, deluging our plains With incxhaufted numbers. Half the Greeks, By us betray'd to bondage, will fupport A Perfian lord, and lift th' avenging fpear For our deftruciion. But, my friends, reject Such mean, fuch daug'rous counlels, which would

blaft

Your long-eftablifh'd honours, and affift The proud invader. O eternal king Of gods and mortals, elevate our minds ! Each low and partial palTion thence expel \ Greece is our general mother. All muft join In her defence, or, fep'rate. each muit fall.

This faid, authority and fhame controul'd The mute aflembly. Agis too appeared. He from the Delphian cavern was return'd,. Where, taught by Phoebus on Parnalfian cliffs. The Pythian maid unfolded HeavVs decrees. He came; but difcontent and grief o'ercaft His anxious brow. Relucfcaut was his tongue, Yet feem'd full charg'd to fpeak. Religious dreai Each heart relax'd. On ev'ry vifage hung Sad expectation. Not a whifper told The filent fear. Intenfely all were fix'd, All ftill as death, t6 hear the folemn tale. As o'er the weftern waves, when ev'ry ftorra Is hufh'd within its cavern; and a breeze, Soft -breathing, lightly with its wings along The flacken'd cordage glides, the failor's ear Perceives no found throughout the vaft expinfe ; None, but the murmurs of the fliding prow, VV'hich flowly parts the fmooth and yielding main : So through the wide and liftening crowd no found, No voice, but thine, O Agis, broke the air ! While thus the iflue of thy awful charge Thy lips deliver'd. Spartans, in your name I went to Delphi. I inquir'd the doom " Or" Lacedemon from th' impending war,, ',. When in thefe words the deity reply V :

" Inhabitants'of Sparta, Perfia's arms " Shall lay your proud and ancitnt feat in duft } " Unlefs a king, from Hercules deriv'd, " Caufe Lacedemon for his death to mourn."

As when the hand of Peffeus had difcios'd The fnakes of dire Medufa, all who view'd The Gorgon features, were congeaPd toltone, With ghaftly eyeballs on the hero bent, And horror, living in their marble form ; Thus with amazement rooted, where they ftood, In fpeechlefs terror frozen, on their kings The Spartans gaz'd : but foon their anxious looks All on the great Leonidas unite, Long known his country's refuge. He alone Remains unfhaken. Riling, he difplays His godlike preience. Dignity and grace Adom his frame, where manly beauty joins With tlrength Herculean. On his afpeft fliijic vSubiimr ft virtue, and defire of fame, ^ >

Where juitice gives the laurel, in his eve

LEON ID AS.

The Jnextinguifhable fpark, xvliich fires The fouls of patriots ; while his brow fupports Undaunted valour, and contempt of death. Serene he calt his looks around, and fpake :

Why this aftonifliment on ev'ry face, Ye men of Sparta ? Does the name of death Create this fear and wonder ? O my friends, Why do we labour through the arduous paths, Which lead to virtue? Fiuitlefs were the toil, Above the reach of human feet were plac'd The diftant fummit, if the fear of death Could intercept our paffage. But a frown Of unavailing terror he aflumes, To fliake the rirmnefs of a mind, which knows That, wanting virtue, life is pain and woe, That, wanting liberty, ev'n virtue mourns, And looks around for happinefs in vain. Then fpeak, O Sparta, and demand my life ! My heart, exulting, anfvvers to thy call, And fmiles on glorious fate. To live with fame, The gods allow to many ; but to die With equal luftre is a blefling, Jove Among the choiceft of his boons referves, Which but on few his fprtring hand bellows.

Salvation thus to Sparta he proclaim'd. Joy, wrapt awhile in admiration, paus'd, Suspending praile ; nor praife at laft refounds In high acclaim to rend the arch of heav'n: A reverential murmur breathes applaufe. So were the pupils of Lycurgus train'd To bridle nature. Public fear was dumb Before their fenate, ephori, and kings, Nor exultation into clamour broke. AmidfHhem role Dieneces, and thus:

Kalte to Thermopylae. To Xerxes fliow The discipline of Spartans, long renown'd In rigid warfare, wrth enduring minds, Which neither pain, nor want, nor danger bend. Fly to the gate of Greece, which open Itands To fhivery and rapine. They will Ihrink Before your ftandard, and their native feats Refume in abjcdt Afia. Arm, ye iires, \Vho with a growing race have blefs'd theftate. That race, your parents, gen'ial Greece forbid Delay. Heav'n fummons. Equal to the caufe A chief behold. Can Spartans uflc for more?

Bold Alpheus next. Command my fwift return Amid the ifthmian council, to declare Your inliant inarch. His dictates all approve. Back to the Ilthmus he umveary'd fpeeds.

Now from th' ailembly, with majeftic fteps. Forth moves their godlike king, with conicious

worth

His gen'rous bofom glowing. Such the port Of his divine progenitor ; impell'd By ardent virtue, fo Alcides trod, Invincible to face in horrid war The triple form of Geryon. or againft The bulk of huge Antseus match his ftrength.

Say, mule, what heroes, by example fir'd, Nor lefs by honour, offer'd now to bleed ? Dieneces the foremoft, brave and fluid, ^ 4

Of vet'ran (kill to range in martial fields, Well-order'd lines of battle. Maron next, Twin-born with Alpheus, fiiows his manly frame. Him Agis follow'd, brother to the queen Of great- Leonidas, his friend in war,

487

His try'd companion. Graceful were his fteps,

And gentle his demeanor. Still his foul

Preierv'd the pureft virtue, though refin'd

By arts unknown to Lacedemon's race.

High was his office. He, wnen Sparta's weal

Support and counfel from the gods requir'd,

VV;is fent the hallow'd mefTenger to learn

Their myitic will, in oracles declar'd,

From rocky Delphi, from Dodona's fliade,

Or fea-encirrled Delos, or the cell

Of dark Trophonius, round Bceotia known.

Three hundred more complete th' intrepid band,

Illuftrious fathers all of jen'rous fons.

The future guardians of Laronia's ftate.

Then rofe Meghiias, leading forth his fon 1

Yeung Menalippus. Not of Spertan blood

Were they. Megiftias, heav'n-er.lighten'd feer,

Had left his native Acarnaman fliore ;

Along the border of Eurotas chofe

His place of dwelling. For his worth receiv'd,

And hofpitably chenfh'd, he the wreath

Pontific bore in Lacedemon's camp ;

Serene in danger, nor hisfacred iirm

From warlike toil fecluding, nor untaught

To tvield the fwordj and poize the weighty fpear*

But to his home Leonidas retir'd. There, calm in fecret thought he thus explored His mighty foul, while nature in his breaft A Ihoit emotion rais'd. What fudden grief, What cold reludlance now unmans my heart* Ami whilpers that I fear ? Can death difmay Leonidas ? Death, often feen and fcorn'd, -When clad moft dreadful in the battle's front ? Or to relinquifli life in ail its pride, With all my honours blooming round my head. Repines my foul, or rather to forfake, Etf rnally Jorlake my weeping wife, My infant offspring, anil my faithful friends? Leonidas, awake. Shall thefe withitand The public fafety ? Hark, thy country calls* O facred voice, I hear thee! At the found, Reviving virtue brightens in my heart; Fear vaniflies before her. Death, receive My unreluclant hand. Immortal fame, Thou too, attendant on my righteous fall, With wings unweary'd wilt protect my tomb.

His virtuous foul the hero had confirm'd, When Agis enter'd. If my tardy lips (He thus began), have hitherto forborne Tfe bring their grateful tribute of applaufe, Which, as a Spartan, to thy worth I owe, Forgive the brother of thy queen. Her grief Detain'd me from thee. O unequall'd man, Though Lacedcmon call thy prime regard, Forget not her, fole victim of diftrefs, Amid the gen'ral fafety ! To afluage Such pain, fraternal tenderr efs is weak.

The king embrac'd him, and reply'd : beft, O deareft man, conceive not, but ray foul To her is fondly bound, from whom my days Their largeft mare of happinefs deriv'dl Can I, who yield my breath, left others mourn, Left thoufands fliould be wretched when flie pines, More lov'd thau any, though lels dear than ail, Can I neglecl her griefs ? In future dajs, If thou with grateful memory record My name and fate, O Sparta, pafs not thj* Hh itij

4*3

THE WOE.KS OF GLOVER.

Unheeded by. The life, for thee refign'd, Knew not a painful hour to tire my foul, Nor were they common joys' I left behind.

So fpake the patriot, and his heart o'erflowM In tend'reft paflion. Then in eager hafte The fai'.hful partner of his bed he fought. Amid her weeping children fat the queen Jmmoveahle and mute. Her fwimming eyes Bent to the earth. Her arms were folded o'er Her lab'ring bofom, blotted with her tears. As when a duiky mift involves the Iky, The moon through all the dreary vapours fpreads The radiant vefture of her filver light O'er the dull face of nature, fo the queen, Divinely graceful fhining through her grief, Brighten '3 the cloud of woe./ Her lord approach'd. Soon, as in gentlefl phrafe his well-known voice ' AAvak'd her drooping fpirit, for a time Care was appeas'd. She lifts her languid head. She gives this utterance to her tender thoughts : 1 O thou, whofe prefence is my fole delight; If thus, Leonidas, thy looks and words Can check the rapid current of diftrefs, How am I mark'd for mifery ! How long! When of life's journey lefs than half is pafs'd, And I mufVhear thofe calming founds no more, Nor fee that face which makes affliction fmile.

This faid, returning grief o'erwhelms her breaft. Her orphan children, her devoted lord, Pale, bleeding, breathlefs on the field of death, Her ever-during folitudeof woe, All rife in fringled horror to her fight, When thus in bitt'reft agony flic fpake :

whither art thon going from my arms ? Shall I no more behold thee ? Oh ! no more, Jn corqueft clad o'erfpread with glcTrious dnft, Wilt thou return to greet thy native foil, And find ;hy dwelling joyful ! Ah ! too b r ave, "Why would'ft thou hurry to the dreary gates Of death, uncaD'd - Another might have bled, .Like thee a victim of Alcid< s* race,

Lei's dear to all, and Sparta been fecr.re.

Now ev'ry eye with mine is drown'd in tears ;

All with thefe j;abes kment a father loft.

Alas, how heavy is our lot of pain !

Our fighs muft iaft, when ev'ry other breaft

Exults in fafety. purchased by our lofs.

Thou didfl not heed cur anguifh didft not feek

One pauft for my ini'.ruclion how to bear ' '

Thy endlefs ab fence, or like thee to die.

Unutterable forrow here confin'd Her Voice. Thcle words Leonidas returned :

1 fee, I thare thy agony. Aly 'oul

Ne'er knew- how warm thr prevalence of love,

How ftrcng a parent's feelings, till this hour ; :

Nor Vas {lie once infenfible to thee

In all her fervour to^fie^t my fame.

How had the honours of my name been ftain'd

By hefitation ? Shameful life preferr'd

By an inglorious colleague world have left

No choice, but what were infamy to fhun,"

Not virtue to accept. Then deem no more,

That of thy love regardlefs, or thy tears,

I rvtfli, uncall'd, to death. The voice of fate,

The gods, my fame, my country prefs my doom.

Oh '. thou dear mourner ! Wherefore fwells afrefh

That tide of woe ? Leonidas muft fall.

Alas ! far heavier mifery impend*

O'er thee and thefe, if, foftf n'd -by thy tcarpr I (hamefully refufe to yield that breath, Which juftice, glory, liberty, and heav'n Claim for my country, for my fons and thee. Think on my long unalter'd love. Refie& On my paternal fondnels. Hath my heart E'er known a paufe in love, or pious care ? Now fhall that care, that tendernefs be ftiawn Moft warm, moft faithful. When thy hufban<jt

dies

For Lacedemon's fafety, thou wilt {hare, Thou and thy children the diffufive good. I am feledted by th' immortal gods To fave a people. Should my timid heart That facred charge abandon, 1 ihould plunge Thee too in fliame, in forrow. Thou wouldft

mourn

With Lacedemon ; wouldft with her fuflain Thy painiul portion of oppreflion's w right. Behold thy fons now worthy of their name, Their Spartan birth. Their growing bloom

would pine

Deprefs'd, difhcnour'd, and their youthful heart* Beat at the found of liberty no more. On their own merit, on their father's fame, When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd, Before the world illuftrious will they rife, Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.

Here paus'd the patriot. In religious awe Grief heard the voice of virtue. No complaint The folemn filence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow ; Cea' : 'ei for a moment foon again to ftre<im. Behold, in arms before the palace drawn, His brave companions of the war demand. Their leader's prefence. Then her griefs renew'd, iSurpfling utTrance, intercept her fighs. ~ .' ' Each accent freezes on her falt'ring tongue. In fpcechlefs angiiifh on the hero's breaft hhe finks. On ev'ry f:de his children prefs, Hang on his knees, and kifs his-hcnour'd hand. His foul no longer ftmggles to confine Her agitation. Down the hero's cheek, Down flows the manly forrow. Great in woe Amid his children, who cnclofe him round, He Hands indulging tendernefs and love In graceful tears, when thus with lifted eyes, Addrefs'd to heav'n. M Thou ever-living pow'r^ Look down propitious, fire of gods and men ; O to this faithful v/oman, whoie defert May claim thy favour, grant the hours -of peace 5 And thou, my bright forefather, feed of Jove, O Hercules, negled not thefe thy race ! But fmce that fpirit, I from thee derive*, Transports me from them to refiftlels fate, Be thou their guardian! Teach them like thyfelf By glorious labours to embt'ljifh life, And from their father lee them learn to die. Here ending, forth he iffues, and affumes Before the ranks his ftation of command. r l hey now proceed. So mov'd the hoft of heav'n; On Phlegra's plains to meet the giant fons Of Earth and Titan, trom Olympus march'd The deities embattel'd; while their king Tower'd in the front with thunder in his grafp. Thus through the ftreets of Lacedemon pafs'd Leorridas. Before his footfteps bow The multitude exulting. On he treads Rever'd. Unfated, their eriraptur'd fight

L E O N I D A S.

9? urfuef his graceful flaturc, and their tongues Extol and hail him, as their guardian god. Firm in his nervous, hand he gripes the fpear. Low, as ihe ankles, from his fhoulders hangs The maffy fhield ; and o'er his burniih'd helm The purple plumage nods. Harmonious youths, Around whole brows entwining laurels play, In lofty-founding ftrainshis praife record ; While fnowy-finger'd virgins all the way Beftrew with od'rons garlands. Now his breaft Is all poffefs'd by glory, which difpell'd Whate'cr of grief remain'd, or vain regret For thofe he left behind. The rev 'rend train Of Lacedemon's fenate laft appear To take their final, folemn leave, and grace Their hero's parting fteps. Around him flow- In civil pomp their venerable robes, "Mix'd with the blaze of arms. The fhining troop Of warriors prefs behind him, Maron here With Menalippus warm in flow'ry prime, There Agis, their Megiftias, and the chief, Dieneces. Laconia's dames afcend The loftieft manfions ; thronging o'er the roofs, Applaud their fons, their hufbands as they march : So parted Argo from th' Colchian ftrand To plough the foaming furge. Theflalia's nymphs, Rang'd on the cliffs, o'erfhading Neptune's face, Still on the diftant veffel fix'd their eyes Admiring, ftill in paeans blefs'd the helm, By Greece intrufted wjth her chofen fons For high adventures on the Colchian fhore.

Swil'ton his courfe Lconidas> proceeds. Soon is Eurotas pafs'd, and Lerna's bank, Where his victorious anceftor iubdu'd The many heaiied Hydra, and the lake To endlefs lame cor.fign'd. Th' unweary'd bands Next through the pines of Maenalus he ltd, And down Parthenius urg'd the rapid toil. Six days inceffant was their march purfu'd, When to their ear the hoarfe-rcfcundmg waves Beat on the Ifthmus. Here the tents are fpread. Below the v. ide horizon then the fun Had dippY his beamy locks. The queen of night Glcam'd fiom the centre ofth' ethereal vault, And o'er the raven plumes of darknels fhed Her placid light. Leonidas detains Dieneces and Agis. Open (lands The tall pavilion, and admits the rroon. As here thty fit converfing, frcm the hill, Which rcfe before them, ore of noble port Is feen ddcending. Lightly down the Hope He treads. He calls aloud. They heard, they

knew The voice of Alf hens, whom the king addrefs'd

O thou, with Iviitnefs by the gods endu'd To match the ardour of thy daring foul, What frcm the Ifthmus draws thee ? Do the

Greeks

N/epltcl to arm and face the public foe ? - Good news give w;ngs, faid Alpheus. Greece

is arm'd. The neighb'ring Ifthmus holds th' Arcadian

bands.

From IS'; an tinea Diophantus leads Five hundred fpears ; nor lefs from Tegea's walls W ith Hegefander move. A thoufand more, Who in Orchomenus refide, and range Along Parjhafius, or Cyllene's brow ;

Who near the foot of Erymanthm dwell,

Or on Alphean banks, with various chiefs

Expect thy prefcnce. Msft is Clonius fam'd,

Of ftature huge, unfhaken rock of war.

Four hundred warriors brave Alcmseon draws

From ftately Corinth's towr's. Two .hundred

march

From Phlius. Them Eupalamus commands. An equal number of Mycenas's race Ariftobulus heads. Through fear alone Of thee, and threat'ning Greece the Thebans arm. A few in Thebes authority and rule Ufurp. Corrupted with Barbarian gold. They quench the gen'rous, eleutherian flame In ev'ry heart. The eloquent they bribe. By fpecious tales the multitude they cheat, Eftablifhing bafe meafures on the plea Of public i'afety. Others are immers'd In all the floth of plenty, who unmov'd In fhameful eafe, behold the ftate betray'd. Aw'd by thy name, four hundred took the field- The wily Anaxancier is their chief With Leontiades. To fee their march I ftaid, then haften'd to furvey the ftreights, Which thou fiialt render facred to renown.

Forever mingled with a crumbling foil, Which moulders round th' indented Malian coaft, The fea rolls fiimy. On a folid rock, Which forms the inmoft limit of a bay, Thermopylse is ftretch'd. Where broadeft fpread, It mealures threefcore paces, bounded here By the fait ooze, which underneath prefcuts A dreary furface ; there the lofty cliffs Of woody 'd Oeta overlook the pafs, And far beyond o'er half the furge below Their horrid umbrr.gc caft. Acrofs the mouth An ancient bulwark of the Phocians ftands, A wall with gates and tovv'rs. The Locrian force. Wa^ marching forward. Them I pafs'd to greet Demophilus of Thefpia, who had pitch'd Seven hundred fpears before th' important fence, His brother's fon attends the rcvVend chief, Young Dithyrambus. He for noble deeds, Yet more for temperance of mind renown'd, In early bloom with brighteft honours fhines, Nor wantons in the blaze. Here Agis fpake :

Well haft thou painted that illuftrious youth. He is my hoft at 1 hefpia. Though adorn'd With vanous wreaths, by fame, by fortune blef&'d> His jrentle virtues, take .from envy's lips Their blafting venom ; and her baneful eye Strives on his worth to fmile. In filence all Again remain, when Alpheus thus proceeds:

Plata's chofen veterans I faw, Small in tht ir number, matchlefs in their fame, Diomedon the leader. Keen his fword At Marathon was felt, where Afia bled. Ihefe. guard Thermopylae. Among the hills, Unknown to ftrangers winds an upper ftreight,, Which by a thoufand Phocians isiecur'd.

Ere thefe brave Greeks I quitted, in the bay A ftately chieftain of th' Athenian fleet Arriv'd. I join'd him. Copious in thy praife He utter'd rapture, but aufterely blam'd Laconia's tardy counfels ; while the mips Of Athens long had ftemm'cl Euboean tides, Which flow not diftant from our future poft. This was the far -fam'd jtichylus, "

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

By Phcebus lov'd. Farnaffus him proclaims The firft of Attic poets, him the plains Of Marathon a foldier, try'd in arms.

Well may Athenians murmur, faid the king. Too long hath Sparta flumber'd on her ftueld. By morn, beyond the lilhmus we will fpread A gen'rous banner. In Laconian ftrains Of Akman and Terpander lives the fame ^Of our forefathers. Let our deeds attract The brighter mufe of Athens in the fong Of JEfchylu;: divine. Now frame thy choice. Share in our *ate ; or, haft'ning home, report, How much already thy difcerning mind, Thy active limbs have merited from me, How ferv'd thy country. From the impatient lips Of Alpheus fwift thefe fervid accents broke ;

1 have not meafur'd fuch a tract of land, Have not untir'd, beheld the fetting fun, Nor through the ftiade of midnight urg'd my fteps To animate the Grecians, that myfelf Might be exempt from warlike toil, or death. Return ? Ah ! no. A fecond time my fpeed Shall vifit thee, Thermopylae. My limbs Shall at thy fide, Leonidas, obtain An honourable grave. And oh ! amid His country's perils, if a Spartan breaft May feel a private forrow, fierce revenge I feek not only for th' infulte.d ftate, But for a brother's wrongs. A younger hope, Than I, and Maron, blcfs'd our father's years, Child of his age, and Polydorus nam'd. His mind, while tender in his op'ning prime, Was bent to ftrenuous virtue. Gen'rous fcorn Of pain, or danger taught his, early ftrength To ftruggle patient with ftvereft toils. Oft, when inclement winter chill'd the air, When frozen fhow'rs had fwoln Eurotas' ftreum, Amid th' impetuous channel would he plunge To breaft the torrent. On a fatal day, As in the fea his active limbs he bath'd, A favage coi fair of the Perfian king My brother naked and defencelefs bore, Ev'n in my fight, to Afia ; there to wafte With all the promife of its growing worth His youth in bondage. Tedious were the tale, Should I recount my pains, my father's woes, The days he wept, the fleeplefs nights, he beat His aged bofom. And fhall Alpheus' fpear Be abfent from Thermopylae, nor claim, , O Polydorus, vengeance for thy wrongs In that firft flaughter of the barb'rous foe.

Here interpos'd Dieneces. Their hands He grafp'd, and cordial tranfpcrt thus exprefs'd

O that Lycurgus from the fhades might rife To praile the virtue, which his laws infpire !

Thus till the dead of night thefe heroes pafs'd The hours in friendly converfe, and enjoy'd Each other's virtue. Happieft of men ! JU length with gentle heavinefs the pow'r Of fleep invades their eye-lids, and conftrains Their magnanimity and zeal to reft : When Hiding down the hemifpherc, the moon humers'd in midnight fhade her filver head,

BOOK II.

THE ARGUMENT.

LEONIDAS on his approach to the Ifthmus i m
 * jby the leaders of the troops, feiit from otr

Grecian ftates, and by the deputies, who com- pofed the Ifthmian council. He harangues them j then proceeds in conjunction with thefe forces towards Thermopylae. On the firft day he is joined by Dithyrambus; on the third he reaches a valley in Locris, where he is entertained by Oileus, the public hoft, of the Lacedemonian ftate ; and the next morning is accompanied by him in a car to the temple of Pan : he finds Medon there, the fen of Oileus, and commander of two thoufand Locrians, already pofted at Thermopylae, and by him is informed, that the army of Xerxes is in fight of the pafs.

AURORA fpreads her purple beams around, When move the Spartans, Their approach is

known.

The Ifthmian council, and the diff'rent chiefs, Who lead th' auxiliar bands, advance to meet Leonidas; Eupalamus the ftrong, Alcmaeon, Clonius, Diophantus brave With Hegefander. At their head is feen Ariftobulus, whom Mycenae's ranks Obey Mycenae once auguft in pow'r, n fplendid wealth, and vaunting ftill the name Of Agamemnon. To Laconia's king The chieftain fpake. Leonidas, furvey Mycenx's race. Should ev'ry other Greek Be aw'd by Xerxes, and his eaftern hoft, Believe not, we can fear, deriv'd from thofe, Who once conducted o'er the foaming furge The ftrength of Greece ; who dcfert left the fields Of ravag'd Afia, and her proudeft walls From their foundations level!'' d to the ground.

Leonidas replies not, but his voice Directs to all. Illuftrious warriors, hail ! Who thus undaunted fignalize your faith, Your gen'rous ardour in the common caufe. But you, vvhofe counfels prop the Grecian ftate, O venerable fynod, who confign To our protecting fvvord, the gate of Greece, Thrice hail ! Whate'er by valour we obtain, Your wifdom muft preferve. With piercing eyes Contemplate ev'ry city, and difcern Their various tempers. Some with partial care To guard their own neglect the public weaL Unmov'd and cold are others. Terror here, Corruption there prefides. O fire the brave To gen'ral efforts in the gen'ral caufe. Confirm the wav'ring. Animate the cold, The timid. Watch the faithlefs. Some betray Themfelves and Greece. Their perfidy prevent, Or call them back to honour. Let us ali Be link'd in facred union, and this land May face the world's whole multitude in arms. If for the fpoil, by Paris borne to Troy, A thoufand keels the Hellefpont o'erfprea<! ; Shall not again confederated Greece Be rous'd to battle, and to freedom give What once fhe gave to fame ? Behold, we hafte To ftop th' invading tyrant. Till we fall, He ftiall not pour his myriads on your plains. But as the gods conceal, how long our ftrength May ftand unvanquifiVd, or how foon may yield ; Wafte not a moment, till ccnfenting Greece Range all her free-born numbers in the field<

Leonidas concluded. Awful ilepp'd Before the fage affembly one fuprenie

L E O N I D A S.

4**

And old in office, xvho addrefs'd the king.

Thy bright example ev'ry heart unites. Tromthee her happieft omens Greece derives Of concord, fafety, liberty and. fame. Go then, O firft of mortals, go, imprefs Amaze and terror on the barb'rous hofl ; The free-born Greeks inftrudting life to deem Lcfs dear, than honour, and their country's caufe.

This heard, Leonidas, thy fecret foul, Exulting, tafte of the fweet reward Bue to thy name through endlefs time. Once

more

His eyes he turn'd, and view'd in rapt'rous thought His native land, which he alone can fave ; Then fummon'd all his majefty, and o'er The Ifthmus trod. The phalanx moves behind In deep arrangement. So th' imperial fhip With ftately bulk along the heaving tide In military pomp conduces the pow'r Of fome proud navy, bounding from the port To bear the vengeance of a mighty ftate Againft a tyrant s walls. Till fultry noon They march ; when halting, as they take repaft, Acrofs the plain before them they defcry A troop of Thefpians. One above the reft In eminence precedes. His glitt'ring fhicld, Whofe gold-emblazon'd orb collc&s the beams, Caft by meridian 1'hcebus from his throne, Flames like another fun. A fnowy plume, With wanton curls difporting in the breeze, Floats o'er his dazzling cafquc. On nearer view Beneath the radiant honours of his crefl A countenance of youth in rofy prime, And manly fweetnefs won the fix'd regard Of each beholder. With a modcfl gra^ce He came refpe&ful tow'rd the king, arid fhow'd, That all ideas of his own defert Were fwik in veneration. So the god Of night falutes his empyreal fire ; When from his altar in th' embow'ring grove Of balmy Dclos, or the hallow 'd bound Of Tenedos, or Claros, where he hears In hymns his praifes from the fans of men, He reafcends the high, Olympian feate: Such reverential homage on his brow, O'erfhading, foftens his effulgent bloom With lovdincfs and grace. Tne king receives Th' illuftrious Thefpian thus. My willing tongue Would ftyle thee Dithyrambus. Thou doft bear All in thy afpect to become that name, Renown'd for worth and valour. O reveal Thy birth, thy charge. Whoe'er thou art, my foul Defires to know thee, and would call thee friend.

To him the youth. O bulwark of our weal, My name is Dithyrambus j which the lips Of fome benevolent, fonie gcn'rous friend To thee have founded in a partial {train, And thou haft heard with favour. In thy fight ! ftand, deputed by the Thefpian chief, The Theban, Locrian, by the fam'd in war, Dipmedon, to haflen thy approach. Three days will bring the hoftile povv'rs in view.

He faid. The ready ftandards arc uprear'd. By zeal enforc'd, till cv'ning fhadows fall, The march continues, then by day-fpring fweeps The eailieil dews. The van, by Agis led, r>ifplays the grifly face of battle rough "With i'pcajs, obliquely uaii'd in drcudful length

Along th' indented way. Befide him march' d

His gallant Thefpian hoft. Th*, centre boafts

Leonidas the leader, who retains

The good Megiftias near him. in the rear

Dieneces commanded, who in charge

That Menalippua, offspring of his friend,

For thefe inftru&ions. Let thine eye, young rnan

Dwell on the order of our varying march ;

As champain, valley, mountain, or defile

Require a change. The eaftern tyrant thus

Conduces not his Barbarians like the lands

In number. Yet the difcipline of Greece

They will encounter feeble, as the fands,

Dafh'd on a rock, and fcatter'd in their fall.

To him th' inquiring youth. The martial trear^ The flute's flow warble, both in juft accord, Entrance my fenfes ; but let wonder alk, Why is that tender vehicle of found Preferr'd in war by Sparta ? Other Greeks- To more fonorous mufic rufh in fight.

Son of my friend, Dieneces rejoins, Well dofl thou note. I praife thee. Sparta's law With human pafiions, fource of human woes, Maintains perpetual ftrife. She fternly curbs Our infant hearts, till paflion yields its feat To principle and order. Mnfic too, By Spartans lov'd, istemper'dby the law; Still to her plan fubfervicnt melts in notes, Which cool and footh, not irritate and warm* Thus by habitual abftinence, apply'd To cv'ry fenfe, fuppreffing nature's fire, By modes of duty, not by ardour fway'd, O'er each impetuous, enemy abroad, At home o'er vice and pleafure we prevail.

O might I merit a Laconian name ! The Acarnanran anfwer'd. But explain, What is the land we traverfe ? What the hill, Whofe parted i'ummit in a fpacious void Admits a bed of clouds ? And gracious tell, Whofe are thofe fuits of armour which I fee Borne by two Helots? At the queftions pUas'd, Dieneces continues. Thofe belong To Alpheus and his brother. Lignt of foot They, difencumber'd, all at large precede This pond'rous band. They guide a troop of

flaves,

Our miffile-weapon'd Helots, to obferve, Provide, forewarn, and obllacles remove. This tra6t is Phoci*. That divided hill Is fam'd Parnaflus. Thence the voice divine Was fent by Phoebus, fummoning to death The king of Sparta. From his fruitful blood A crop will fpring of vidtory to Greece.

And thefe three hundred high in birth and rank* All citizens of Sparta .... cries the youth, They all muft bleed, Dieneces fubjoins, All with their leader. So the law decrees.

To him with earneft looks the gen'rous youth Wilt thou not place me in that glorious hour Clofe to thy buckler ? Gratitude will brace. Thy pupil's arm to manifeft the force Of thy inftruclion. Menalippus, no, Return'd the chief. Not thou of Spartan breed, Nor call'd to perifh. Thou unwedded too Would'ft leave no race behind thee. Live to praife, Live to enjoy ourfalutary fall. Reply is needlefs. See, the fun defcends. The army halts. 1 truft thee with a charge,

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Son of Megiftias. Tn my name command

Th' attendant Helots to ere<5fc our camp.

We pitch our tents in Locns. Quick the youth

His charge accomplifh'd. From a gen'rous meal,

Where at the call of Alpheus, Locns fhow'r'd

Her Amalthean plenty on her friends,

The fated warriors foon in fiumber lofc

The memory of toil. His watchful round ,

Dieneces with Menalippus takes.

The moon rode high and clear. Her light benign To their pieas'd eyes a rural dwelling fhow*d, Jill unadorn'd, but feemly. Either fide "Was fenc'd by trees high-fhadowirig. The front JLook'd on a cryflal pool, by feather'd tribes At ev'ry dawn frequented. From the fprings A fmall redundance fed a mallow brook, O'er fmootheft pebbles rippling juft to wake, Not ftartle filence, and the ear of night Entice to liften undirturb'd. Around The grafs was cover'd by repofing fheep, Whofe drowfy guard no longer bay'd the moon.

The warriors flopp'd, contemplating the feat Of rural quiet. Suddenly a fwain Steps forth. His fingers touch the breathing reed. Uprife the fleecy train. Each faithful dog Isrous'd. All heedful of the wonted found Their known conductor follow. Slow behind Th' obferving warnorsmove. Ere long they reach A broad and verdant circle, thick enclos'a With birches ftraight and tall, whofe glolfy rind Is clad in filver from Diana's car. The ground was holy, and the central fpot An altar bore to Pan. Beyond the orb Of fkreening trees th' external circuit fwarm'd With fheep and beeves, each neighb'rjcg hamlet's

wealth

Collecled. Thither foon the fvvain arriv'd, Whom, by the name of Meliboeus hail'd, A peafant throng furrpunded. As their chief, He nigh the altar to his rural friends Addrefs'd thefe words: Ofent from diff 'rent lords With contribution to the public wants, Time preffes. God of peafants, blefs our courfe ! Speed to the flow-pac'd ox, for once impart! That o'er thefe valleys, cool'd by dewy night, We to our fummons true, ere noon- tide blaze May join Oileus, and his praife obtain.

He ceas'd. To ruftic madrigals and pipes, "Combin'd with bleating notes and tinkling bells, With clamour fhriil from bufy tongues of dogs, - Or hollow -founding from the deep-mouth'd ox, Along the valley herd and flock are driv'n Succeffive, halting oft to harmlefs fpoil Of flow'rs and herbage, fpringlng in their fight. While Melibceusniarfhaird withaddrefs The inoffenfive hoft, unften in fhades Dieneces applauded, and the youth Of Menalippus caution'd. Let no word Impede the careful peafant. On his charge Depends our welfare. Diligent and ftaid He fuits his godlike mafler. Thou wilt fee That righteous hero foon. Now ileep il.mands Our debt to nature. On a carpet dry Of mofs beneath a wholefome beech they lay, Arm'd as they were. Their ilumber (hort retires With night's laft fhaclow. At their warning rous'd, The troops proceed, Th' admiring eye of youth Is Menalippus caught themerrung rayf

ranks of knotted girth unwroughr, beds of mofs. Old, batter'd urms

To guide its travel o'er the landfcape wide

Of cultivated hillocks, dales and lawns,

Where manfions, hamlets interpos'd ; where domejj

Rofe to their gods 'through confecrated fhades.

He then exclaims. O fay, can Jove devote

Tljefe fields to ravage, thofe abodes to flames ?

The Spartan anfwers: Ravage, fword arid firo Muft bt tndur'd as incidental ills. Suffice it, thefe invaders, foon or late, Will leave this foil more fertile by their blood With fpoils abundant to rebuild the fanes. Precarious benefits are thefe, thou fee'ft So fram'd by heav'n ; but virtue is a good No foe can fpoil, and lafting to the grave.

Befide the public way an oval fount Of marble fparkkd w ith a filver fpray Of falling rills, collected from above. The army halted, and their hollow cafques Dipp'd in the limpid ftream. Behind it rofe An edifice, compos'd of native roots, And oaken trunks of knotted Within were

Hung from the rof. The curious chiefs approach). Thefe words, engraven on a tablet rude, Megiftias reads ; the reft in filence hea'r.

Yon marble fountain, by Oileus plac'd,

To thirl! y lips in living water flows ;

For weary ffeps he fram'd this cool retreat;

A grateful off' ring here to rural peace,

His dinted Chie'd. his helmet he refign'd.

O paffenger, if born to noble deeds

Thou would'ft obtain perpetual grace from Jove,

Devote thy vigour to heroic toils.

And thy decline to hofpitablt cares.

Reft here ; then leek Oileus in his vale.''

O Jove, burft forth Leonidas, thy grace Is large and various. Length of days and blifs To him thou giv'ft, to me a fhorten'd term, Nor yet lefs happy. Grateful we confefs Thy diff 'rent bounties, meafur'd full to both. Come let us feck Oileus in his vale.

The word is giv'n. The heavy phalanx moves. The light-pac'd Helots long ere morning dawn'd, Had rccommenc'd their progrcfs. They o'ertook Blithe Meiiboeus in a fpacious vale, The fruitfulleft in Locris, ere the fun Shot forth his noon-tide beams. On either fide A furface fcarce perceptibly afcends. Luxuriant vegetation crowds the foil With trees clofe-rang'd and mingling. Rich the

loads

Of native fruitage to the fight reveal Their vig'rous nurture. There the flufliing peach, The apple, citron, almond, pear and date, Pomegranates, purple mulberry, and fig From interlacing branches mix their hues >nd fcents, the paffenger's delight : but leave In the mid-vale a pafture long and large, Exuberant in vivid verdure cropp'd By herds,by flocks innum'rous. is'eighb'ring knoll Are fpeckled o'er with cots, \vhofc humble roofs To he dfmen. fhepherds, and laborious hinds Once yielded reft unbroken, till the name Of Xerxes (hook their quiet. Yet this day Was feftive. Swains and damfels, youth and age, From toil, from home enlarg'd, difporcing, fill & Th' enlivened meadow. Under evy fhade A fepary minftrel fat ; the maidens

LEONID

Blocks bleated; oxenlow'd; the horfes neigh'd ; With joy the vale rcfounded ; terror fled ; Leonidas was nigh. The welcome news By Meliboeus, haft'ning to his lord, Was loudly told. The Helots too appear'd. While with his brother Alpheus thus difcoura'd.

In this fair valley old Oileus Swells, The firft of Locrians, of Laconia's ftate The public hoft. Yon large pavilions mark. They promife welcome. Thither let us bend, There tell our harge. This^ faid, they both ad vance.

A hoary band receives them. One, who feem'd In rank, in age fuperior, wav'd his hand To Meliboeus, (landing near, and fpake. By this my faithful meflenger I learn, That you are friends. Nor yet th' invader's foot Hath pafs'd our confines. Elfe, o'ercaft by time, My fight would fcarce diftinguifli friend or foe, A Grecian or Barbarian. Alpheus then.

We come from Lacedermm, of our king JLeonidas forerunners. Is he nigh ? The cordial fenior tenderly exclaims, I am Oileus. Him a beardlefs boy I knew in Laccdemon. Twenty years Are fince elaps'd. He fcarce remembers me. But I will feaft him, as becomes my zeal, Him and his army. You, my friends, repofe.

' They fit. He frill difcourfcs. Spartan guefts, In me an aged foldier you behold. From Ajax, fam'd in Agamemnon's war, Oilcan Ajax flows my vital ftream, Unmix'd with his prefumption. I have borne The higheft functions in the Locrian ftate, Notwith difhonour. Self-difmifs'd, my age Hath in this valley on my own demefn Liv'd tranquil, not reclufe. My comrades thefc, Old magiftrates and warriors like myfelf, Releas'd from public care, with me retir'd To rural quiet. Through our laft remains Of time in fwect garrulity we flide, Recounting paft achievements of our prime ; Nor wanting lib'ral means far lib'ral deeds, Here ble fs'd, here blefling we refide. Thefe flocks, Thefe herds and paftures, thefe our num'rous

hinds,

And poverty, hence exil'd, may divulge Our generous abundance. We can fpread A banquet for an army. By the ftate Once more entreated, we accept u charge, To age well-fuited. By our watchful care The goddefs Plenty in your tents fhall dwell.

He fcarce had finifh'd, when the cnfigns broad Of Lacedemon's phalanx down the vale Were feen to wave, unfolding at the found Of flutes, foft warbling in th' expreffive mood Of Dorian fweetnefs unadorn'd. Around, in notes of welcome cv'ryfhepherd tun'd Hi*> fprightly reed. The damleL ihow'd their hair, Divedify'd with flow'rets Garlands gay, Ruih- woven bafkets, glowing with the dyes Of amaranths, of jafmin, rofes pink-, And violets they carry, tripping light Before the fteps of giimly-featur'd Mars To blend the fmiles of Flora with his frown. Leor;j --;* they chauni n li) .-an lays, Hiro :.; <: defender of their mc?ds and groves, Him more than Pan, a guardian to tbeir flocks.

A S. 49 3

While Philomela, in her poplar fhade Awaken'd ftrains her emulating throat, And joins with liquid trills the Dwelling founds*

Behold Oileus and his ancient train Accoft Laconia's king, whofe looks and words Coufefs remembrance of the Locrian chief. Thrice hail ! Oileus, Sparta's noble hoft. Thou art of old acquainted with her fons, Their laws, their manners. Mufical aa brave, Train'd to delight in fmooth Terpander's lay, [n Alcman's Dorian meafure, we enjoy In thy melodious vale th' unlabour'd ftrains Of rural pipes, to nightingales attun'd. Our heart -felt gladnefs deems the golden age Subfifting where thou govern'ft. Still thefe Anes Of joy continu'd may thy dwelling hear I Still may this plenty, unmolefted, crown The favour'd diftrift ! May thy rev'rend duft Have peaceful flicker in thy father's tomb I Kind heav'n, that merit to my fword impart t

By jay uplifted, forth Oileus broke. Thou dolt recal me then ! O fent to guard Thefe fruits from fpoil, thefe hoary locks from

fhame,

Permit thy weary'd foldiers to partake. Of Locrian plenty. Enter thou my tents, Thou and thy captains. I falute them all.

The hero full of dignity and years, Once bold in action, plac'd now in eafe, Ev'n by bis look, benignly caft around, Gives laffitude relief. With native grace, With heart-eftus'd complacency the king Accepts the lib'ral welcome, while his troopj, To relaxation and repair, difmifs'd, Pitch on the wounded green their briftled fpears.

Still is the evening. Under chefnut (hades With interweaving poplars fpacious ftands A well-fram'd tent. There calm the heroes- fit, The genial board enjoy, and feaft. the mind Oni'age difcourfe; which thus Oileus clos'd.

Behold, night lifts her fignal to invoke That friendly god, who owns the drowfy wand. To Mercury this laft libation flows. Farewell till morn. They feparate, they deep j All but Oileus, who forfakes the tent. On Melibceus, in thefe words he calls. Approach my faithful friend. To him the fwain, Thy bondman hears thy call. The chief replies, Loud for the gath'ring pealantry to heed.

Come, Melibceus, it is furely time, That my repeated gift, the name of friend Thou fliouldft accept. The name of bondmam

wuunds

My eafr. Be free. No longer, beft of men, Reject that boon, nor let my feeble head, To rb.ee a debtor, as to gracious heaven, Defcend and fleep unthankful in the grave. Though yielding nature daily feels decay ; Thou doft prevent all care. The gods eftrange Pain from my piilow, have fecur'd my breaft From weeds too oft in aged 'foil profufe. From felf-torm nting petulance and pride, From jealoufy and envy at the fame Of younger men. Leonidas will dim My former luftre, as that filver orb Ontfhines the meatieftftar; aud I rejoice. Meiiboeus, thefe elect of Jove

494

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

To certain death advance. Immortal powers ! How focial, how endearing is their fpeech ! How flow in lib'ral cheerfulneis their hearts I To fuch a period verging men like thefe Age well may envy, and that envy take The genuine fliape of virtue. Let their fpan Of earthly being, while it lafts, contain Each earthly joy. Till bleis'd Elyfwm fpread Her ever-blooming, inexhaufted ftores To their glad fight, be mine the grateful talk To drain my plenty. From the vaulted caves Our veffels large of well-fermented wine, From all our gran'ries lift the treafur'd corn. Go, load the groaning axles. Nor forget With garments new to greet MeliflVs nymphs. To her a triple change of veftments bear With twenty lambs, and twenty fpeckled kids. Be it your care, my pe.atant, (otne to aid Him your director, others to feiect Five hundred oxen, thrice a thoufand flieep, Of lufty iwains a thoufand. Let the morn, When firft Ihe bluflies, fee my wiU perform'd.

They heard. Their lord's injunitioM to fufil Was their ambition. He, uiwelting, mounts A ready car. The courfers had enroll'd His name in Ifthmian and Nemean games. By moonlight, floating on the fpiendid reins^ He o'er the bufy vale intent is borne From place to place, o'er looks, directs, forgets That he is old. Meantime the (hades of night, Retiring, wake Dieneces. He gives The ward. His pupil feconds. Ev'ry hand Is arm'd. Day opens. Sparta's king appears. Oileus greets him. In his radiant car The fenior itays reluctant ; but his gueft So wills in Spartan reverence to age. Then fpake the Locrian. To affift thy camp A chofen band of peafants I detach. I truft thy valour. Doubt not thou my care, Nor doubt that fwain. Oileus, fpeaking, look'd On Melibceus. Skilful he commands Thefe hinds. Him wife, him faithful I have

prov'd

More than Eumaeus to Laertes' fon. To him th' Oetaean woods, their devious tracks Aje known, each rill and fountain. Near the

pafs

Two thoufand Locrians wilt thou find encamp'd, My eldeit born their leader, Medon nam'd, Well exercis'd in arms. My daughter dwells On peta. Sage Melifla flie is call'd, Enlighten'd priefteis of the tuneful nine. She haply may accoft thee. Thou wilt lend An ear. Mot fruitlefs are Melifla's words. Now, fervants, bring the facred wine. Obey'd, He, from his feat upriiing, thus proceeds:

Lo ! from this chalice a libation pure To Mars, to Grecian liberty and laws, To their protector, eleutherian Jove, To his nine daughters, who record the brave, To thy renown, Leonidas, I pour ; And take an old man's benediction too.

He ftopp'd. Affection, (truggling in his heart, Burft forth again. Illuftrious gueft, afford Another hour. That (lender fpace of time Yield to my fole poffeffion. While the troops, Already glitt'ring down the dewy vale,

File through its narrow'd outlet ; near my fide Deign to be carry'd, and my talk endure.

The king, well pleas'd, afcends. Slow move

the fteeds

Behind the rear. Oileus grafps his hand, Then in the fulnefs of hib ioul purfues.

Thy veneration for Lacoma's lavas That I may (trengthen, may to rapture warm, Hear me difplay the melancholy fruits Of lawless will. When o'er the Lydian plains Th' innumerable tents of Xerxes fpread, His vaflal, fythius, who in affluent means Surpalies me, as that Barbarian prince Thou doft in virtue, enr.ertain'd the hoft, And proffcr'd all hk treafures. Thefe the king Refilling, ev'n augmented from his own. An act of fancy, not habitual grace, A fparkling vapour through the regal glooip Of cruelty and pride. He now prepar'd To march from Sardis, when with humble tears The good old man befought him. Let the king Propitious hear a parent. In thy train I have five fons. Ah ! leave my eldeft born, Thy future vafial, to fuftain my age ! The tyrant fell reply'd : i j refumptuous man, Who artwiy (lave, in this tremendous war, Is not my perfori hazarded, my race, My corrfort ? Former merit faves from death Four of thy offspring. Him, fo dearly priz'd, Thy folly hath deftroy'd. His body (traight Was hewn afunder. By the public way On either fide a bleeding half was caft, And millions pafs'd between. O Spartan king, Taught to revere the fanctity of laws, The acts of Xerxes, with thine own compare, His fame with thine. The curies of mankind Give him renown. He marches to defrroy, ' But thou to fave. Eehold the trees are bent, Each eminence is loaded thick with crowds, From cots, from ev'ry hamlet pour'd abroad, To blefs thy fteps, to celebrate thy praifc.

Oft times the king his decent brow mclin'd, Mute and obfequiousto an eider's voice, Which through th' inllructed ear, uncealing flowM In eloquence and knowledge. Scarce an hour Was tied. The narrow dale was left behind. A caufeway broad difclos'd an ancient pile Of military fame. A trophy large, Compact withcrefted morions, targets rude, With fpears and corflets, dirnm'd by eating

age,

Stood near a lake pelkcid, fmooth, profound, Of circular expanfe, whofe bofom fhow'd A green-flop'd ifland, figur'd o'er with flow'rs, And from its centre lifting high to view A marble chapel, on the maffy ftrength Of Doric columns rais'd. A full wrought freeze Difplay'd the fculptor's art. In folemn pomp Of obelifks and bufts, and ftory'd urns Sepulchral manikins of illuftrious dead Were fcatter'd round, o'ercaft with fliadows black Of yew and cyprefs. In a ferious note Oileus, pointing, opens new difcourfe.

Beneath y.on turf my anceftors repofe. Oilean Ajax fingly was depriv'd Of fun'ral honours there. With impious luft He ftain'd Minerva's temple. FrtJfla the gulf

r briny waters by their god preferv'd,

That god he brav'd. He lies beneath a rock,

By Neptune's trident in his wrath o'erturn'd.

Shut from Elyfmm for a hundred years,

The hero's ghoft bewaii'd his oozy tomb.

A race more pious on the Oilcan houfe

Felicity have drawn. To ev'ry god

I owe my blifs, my early fame to Pan.

Once on the margin of that tilent pool

In their nocturnal ramp Barbarians lay,

Awaiting morn to violate the dead.

My youth washVd. I fummcn'd from their cots

A ruflic hoft. We facrific'd to Pan,

Afiaii'd th' unguarded ruffians in his name.

He with his terrors finote their yielding hearts.

Not one furviv'd the fury of our fwains.

Rich was the pillage Hence that trophy rofe ;

Of coftly blocks conllrucled, hence that fane,

Inl'crib'd to Pan th' armipotent. O king,

Be to an old man's vanity benign.

This frowning emblem of terriric war

Proclaims the ardour and exploits of youth.

This to Barbarian ftrangers, ent'ring Greece,

Shows what I was. The marble fount thou

faw'ft,

Of liring wnter, whofe transparent flow Reliev'd thy march in yefter fultry fun, The cell, which offer'd reft on beds of mofs Show what I am, to Grecian neighbour's (how The hofpitality of age. O age, Where are thy graces, but in lib'ral deeds, In bland deportment? Would thy furrow'd

cheeks

Lofe the deformity of time ? Let fmiles Dwell in thy wrinkles. Then, rever'd by youth,

Thy feeble #eps will find Abruptly here

He paus'd. A manly warrior full in light Befide the trophy on his target lean'd, Unknown to Sparta's leader, who addrefs'd His rev'rend hoft. Thou paufeft. Let me alk, Whom do I fee, refembling in his form A demigod ? In tranfport then the fage.

It is my fon, difcover'd by his fhield, Thy brave auxiliar Medon. He fuftains My ancient honours in his native ftate, Which kindly chofe my offspring to replace Their long-fequefter'd chief. Heart-winning

gueft!

My life, a tide of joy, xvhich never knew A painful ebb, beyond its wonted mark Flows in thy converfe. Could a wifli prevail, M v long and happy courfe fliould finiih here.

The chariot reited. Medon now approach'd, Saluting thus Leonid as : O king Of warlike Sparta, Xerxes' holt in fight Begin to ipread their multitude, and fill The fpacious Malian plain. The king replies :

Accept, iilultrious mefienger, my thanks. With fuch a brave affiftant, as the ion Of great Oileus, more affur'd I go To face thofe numbers. With this godlike friend The father, now difmounting from his car, Embraces Medon. In a Hiding bark They all are wafted to the ifland fane, Erected by Oi'leus, and enrich'd With his engraved achievements. Thence the eye

DAS. 4?

Of Sparta's gen'ral in crtenfive fcope Contemplates each battalion, as they wind Along the pool ; whofe limpid face reflcda Their weapons, glid'ning in the early fun. Them he to Pan armipotent commends, HLis favour thus invoking. God, whofe pow'r 3y rumour vain, or echo's empty voice Can fink fhe valiant in defponding fear, Can difarray whole armies, ihiile on thefe, Thy wormippers. Thy own Arcadians ^uard. Through thee Oileus triumph'd. On his fon, On me look down. Our fhields auxiliar joia Againft profane Barbarians, who infult The Grecian gods, and meditate the fall Of this thy fhrinc. He faid, and now intent To leave the ifland,on Oileus call'd.

He, Medon anfwer'd, by his joy and zeal Too high tranfported, and difcourfing long, Felt on his drovvfy lids a balmy down Of heavinefs defcending. He, unmark'd Amid thy pious commerce wita the god, Was fiientiy remov'd. The good old chief On carpets, rais'd by tender menial hands, Calm in the fecret iandtuary is laid.

His haft'ning ftep Leonidas reftrains, Thus fervent prays : O Maia'sfon, bcft pleas'd, When calling flumber to a virtuous eye, Watch o'er my venerable friend. Thy balm He wants, exhaufted by his love to me. Sweet fleep, thou foft'ncft that intruding pang, Which gcn'rous breads fo parting muft admit.

He faid, embark'd, relanded. To his fide Inviting Medon, he rejoin'd the hoft.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

LEONIDAS arrives at Thermopylae about noon on the fourth day of his departure from the Iflhmus. He is received by Demophilus, the commander of Thefpia, and by Anaxander the Theban, treacheroufly recommending Epialtes, a Malian, who feeks, by a pompous defcription of the Perfian power, to intimidate the Grecian lead ers,' as they are viewing the enemy's camp from the top of mount Oeta. He is anfwered ty Di- eneces and Diomedon. Xerxes fends Tygranes and Phraortes to the Grecian camp, vho are difmiffcd by Leonidaa, and conducted back by Dithyrambus and Diomedon ; which laft, in- cenfed at the arrogance of Tygranes, treats him with contempt and menaces. This occafions a challenge to finglc combat between Diomedon and Tygranes, Dithyrambus and Phraortes E- pialtes after a conference with Anaxander de clares his intention of returning to Xerxes. JLe~ onidas difpatches Agis with Meliboeus, a faith ful Have of Oileus, and high in the eftimation of his lord, to view a body of Phocians, who had been ported at a diftante from Thermopylae tor the defence of another pafs in mount Oeta.

Now in the van Leonidas appears, With Medon dill conferring. Haft thou heard, He faid, among th* innumerable foes [truft

What chiefs are moft diftinguifh'd ? Might we To fame, reply 'd the Locrian, Xerxes boafU His ableft, braved counfellor and chief In Artemifia, Caria's matchlefs quen. To old Darius pcucScs had bound

496

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Her lord, herfelf t6 Xerxes. Not compell'd, Except by magnanimity, (he leads The beft appointed fquadron in his fleet. No female foftnefs Artemifia knows, But in maternal love. Her widow'd hand 'With equity and firmnefs for her fon Adminiilers the fway. Of Doric race She flill retains the fpirit, which from Greece Heranceflors transplanted. Other chiefs Are all Barbarians, little known to fame, Save one, whom Sparta hath herfelf fupply'd, Not lefs than Demaratus, once her king, An exile now. Leonidas rejoins.

Son of Oileus, like thy father wife, Like him partake my confidence. Thy words Recal an era, fadd'ning all my thoughts. That injur'd Spartan {har'd the regal fway With one Alas! my brother, eldeil born,' / '*\ ( Unblefs'd by nature, favour'd by no god, Cleomenes. Inianity of mind, Malignant paflions, impious acts deform'd A life, concluded by his own fell hand. Againft his colleague envious he fuborn'd Leutychides. Him perjury and fraud Plac'd on the feat, by Demaratus held Unftain'd in luftre. Here Oileus' fon.

My future fervice only can repay Thy confidential friendfhip. Let us clofe The gloomy theme. Thermopylae is nigh. Each face in tranfport glows. Now Oeta rear'd His tow'ring forehead. With impatient fteps On r.uih'd the phalanx, founding pxans high ; As if the prefent deity of fame Had from the fummit fhovvn her dazzling form, With wreaths unfading on her temples bound, Her adamantine trumpet in her hand To celebrate their valour. From the van Leonidas advances like the fun, When through dividing clouds his prefence ftays Their fweeping rack, and itills the clam'rous

wind.

The army iilent halt. Their enfigns fan The air no longer. Motion]efs their fpears. His eye reveals the ardour of his foul, Which thus finds utt'rance from his eager lips*

All hail ! Thermopylae, and you, the pow'rs, Prefiding here. All hail ! ye fylvan gods, Ye fountain nymphs, who fend your lucid rills In broken murmurs down the ruggid fteep. Receive us, O benignant, and fupport The caufe of Greece. Conceal the fccret paths, Which o'er thtde crags, and through their forefts

wind,

Untrod by human feet, and trac'd alone By your immortal footfteps. O defend Your own receffes, nor let impious war Profane the folemn filence of your groves. Then on your hills your praifes mail you hear From thofe, whole deeds fhall tell th' approving

world,

That not to undefervers did ye grant Your high protection. You, my valiant friends, Now roufe the gen'rous fpirit, which inflames Your hearts; exert the vigour of your arms: That in the bofoms of the brave and free Your memorable actions may furvive ; May found delightful in the ear of time, Long, as blue Neptune beats the Malian ilrand,

Or thofe tall cliffs erect their fhaggy tops So near to heav'n, your monuments of fame.

As in fome torrid region, where the head Of Ceres bends beneath her golden load ; If from a burning brand afcatter'd fpark Invade the parching ground ; a fudden blaze Sweeps o'er the crackling champaine : through hb

hoft

Not with lefs fwiftnefs to the furtheft ranks The words of great Leonidas difFus'd A more than mortal fervour. Ev'ry heart Diftends with thoughts of glory, fuch as raife The patriot's virtue, and the foldier's fire ; When danger moft tremendous in his form Seems in their fight moft lovely. On their minds Imagination pictures all the fcenes Of war, the purple field, the heaps of death, The glitt'ring trophy, pil'd with Perfian arms.

But lo ! the Grecian leaders, who before Were flation'd near Thermopylae, falute Laconia's king. The Thefpian chief, ally'd To Dithyrambus, firft the filence breaks, An ancient warrior. From behind his cafque,' Whofe crefted weight his aged temples bore, The flender hairs, all-filver?d o'er by time, Flow'd venerable down. He thus began :

Joy now fhall crown the period of my days;' And whether nigh my father's urn I fleep ; Or, flain by Perfia's fvvord, embrace the earth/ Our common parent ; be it as the gods Shall befh determine. For the prefent hour I blefs their bounty, which hath giv'nmy age' To fee the brave Leonidas, and bid That hero welcome on this glorious more, To fix the bafis of the Grecian weal.

Here too the crafty Anaxander fpake. Of all the Thebans, we, rejoicing, hail The king of Sparta. We obey'd his call. O may oblivion o'er the ftiame of Thebes A dark'ning veil extend ! or thofe alone By fame be curs'd, whofe impious counfels turfi Their countrymen from virtue ! Thebes was funk. Her glory bury'd in difhoneft floth. To wake her languor gen'rous Alphxus came, The meffenger of freedom. O accept Our gratdful hearts, thou, Alpheus, art the caufe, That Anaxander from his native gates Not fingle joins this hoft, not tamely thefe, My choien friends behind their walls remain.' Enough of words. Time prefles. Mount, ye' chiefs, This loftieft part of Oeta. This overlooks The ftreights, and far beyond their northern

mouth

Extends our fight acrofs the Malian plain. Behold a native, Epialtes call'd, Who with the foe from Thracia's" bounds hath march'd.

Difguis'd in feeming worth, he ended here. The camp not long had Epialtes reach'd, By race a Malian. Eloquent his tongue, His heart was, falfe and abject. He was fldlTd To grace perfidious counfels, and jto clothe In fv/elling phraie the bafenefs of his foul, Foul nurfe of treafons. To the tepts of Greece, Himfelf a Greek, a faithlefs fpy he came. Soon to the friends of Xerxes he repair'd, The Theban chiefs, and nightly councils held Hpw to .betray the Spartans, or deject

L E O N I D A S.

&y confirmation. Up the arduous flope

XVith him each leader to the fummit'climbs.

Thence a tremendous profpe<ft they command,

Where endlcfi plains, by white pavilions hid,

Spread like the vaft Atlantic, when no fhore,

No rock, no promontory ftops the fight

Unbounded, as it wanders ; while the mdon,

Refpicndent eye of hight, in fulleft orb

Surveys th' interminate expanfe, and throws

Her rays abroad to deck in fnowy light

The dancing billows. Such was Xerxes' camp ;

A pow'r unrivall'd by the mightiefl king,

Or fierceft conqu'ror, whofe blocd-thirfty pride,

Diflblving all the facred ties which bind

The happinefs of nations, hath upcall'd

The fldeping fury, Difcord, from her den.

Not from the hundred brazen pates of Thebes,

The tow'rs of Memphis, and thofe pregnant fields,

Enrich'd by kindly Nile, fuch armies fwarm'd

Around Sefoftris ; who with trophies HUM

The vanquifh'd eaft, who o'er the rapid foani

Of diftant Tanais, o'er the furface broad

Of Ganges fent his formidable name.

Nor yet in Afia's far extended bounds

E'er met fuch numbers, not when Ninus led

Th' Afiyrian race to con.queft. Not the gates

Of Babylon along Euphrates pour'd

Such myriads arm'd; when, emptying all her

ftrects,

The rage of dir6 Semiramis they bore Beyond the Indus; there defeated, left His blood-ftain'd current turbid with their dead.

Yet of the chiefs, contemplating thisfcene, Not one is fhaken. Undifmay'd they ftand; Th' immeafurable camp with fearlefs eyes They traverfe : while in meditation near The treach'rous Malian waits, colic fting all His pomp of words to paint the hoiiile pow'r ; Nor yet with faliehood arms his fraudful tongue To feign a tale of terror. Truth herfelf Beyond the reach 6f fiction to enhance Now aids his treafon, and with cold difmay Might pierce the boldell heart, unlels fecur'd By dauntlefs virtue, which difdains to live, From liberty divorc'd. Requtfled fool), He breaks his artful ftlence. . Greeks and friends, Can I behold my native Mulian fields, Prefenting hoiHle millions to your fight, And not in grief fuppreis the horrid tale, "Which you exa<ft from thkfc ill-omen'd lips'. On Thracia's fea-beat verge i vvatch'd the foes; Where, joining Europe to the Afian ftfand, A mighty bridge reftraiil'd th' outrageous waves, And itemm'd th' impetuous current: while in

arms

The univerfal progeny of men Seem'd trampling o'er the fubjugSted flood" By thoufands, by ten thoufands. Perfians, Mcdes, Affyrians, rfaces, Indians, fwarthy files From Ethiopia, Egypt's tawny fons, Arabians, Badrian*, Parthians, all the ftrength Of Afia, and of Libya. Neptune groan'd Beneath their number, and indignant heav'd His neck againft th' incumbent weight. In vain The violence of Eurus and the north, With rage combin'd, againft th' unyielding pile Dafh'd half the Hellefpont. The eaftern world Sev'n days and nights uniutcmnHed pais VOL. XI.

To cover Thracia's regions. They accept A Perfian lord. They range their hardy race Keneath his ftandards Macedonia's youth, The brave Theflalian horfe with ev'ry Greek, Who dwells beyond Thermopylae, attend, Afi-ft a. foreign tyrant. Sire of gods, Who in a moment by thy will ftipreme Canft quell the mighty in their proudeft hopes, Canft raiie the weak to fafety, Oh ! impart Thy inftant fuccour ! Interpofe thy arm ! Withlightningblaft their ftahdards! Oh! confound With triple-bolted thunder Afia's tents, Whence rufhing millions by the morn will pour An inundation to o'erwhelm the Greeks, kefillance elfe were vain againft a hoft, Which bverfpreads Thefiaha. Far beyond That Malian champain, ftretching wide below, Beyond the utmoft meafure of the fight From this afpiring cliff, the hoftile camp Contains yet mightier numbers; who have drain'd The beds of copious rivers with their thirft, Who with their arrows hide the mid-day fun.

Then we {hull give them battle in the {hade, Dieflect's reply'd. Not calmly thus Diomedon. On Perfia's camp he bent f'^"

His lovv'ring brow, which frowns had furrow T Then fierce exclaim'd. Bellona, turn and view With joyful eyes that field, the fatal ftage, By regal madnefs for thy rage prepar'd To exercife its horrors. Whet thy teeth, Voracious death. All Afia is thy prey. Contagion, famine, and the Grecian fword, For thy infatiate hunger will provide Variety of carnage. He concludes; While on the hofl immenfe his doudy brow Is fix'J difdainful, and their flrength defies.

Meantime an eaftern herald down the pafs Was fcen, flow-moving tow'rds the Phocian wall From Afia's monarch delegated, came Tigranes arid Phraortes. From the hill LeonidVs conducts th' impatient chiefs. By them environ'd, in his tent he fits ; Where thus Tigranes their attention calls.

AmbaiTadors from Perfia's king we ftand Before you, Grecians. To difplay the pow'r Otour great mafter were a needlefs tallc. The name of Xerxes, Afia's mighty lord, Invincible, exalted on a throne, Stirpafling human luftre, m'uft have reach'd To e.v'ry clime, and ev'ry heart impreis'd With awe, and low fubmilfion. Yet I fwear By yon refulgent orb, which flames above, The glorious fymbol of eternal pow'r, This military throng, this fho\v of war Well nigh perfuade me, you have never heard That natae, at whofe commanding found th&

banks

Of Indus tremble, and the Cafpian wave, Th' Egyptian flood, the Helleipontic furge Obedient roll. O impotent and rafti ! Whom yet the large beneficence of heav'n, And heav'nly Xerxes, merciful and kind v Deign to prefer ve. Refign your arms. Difperfe All to your cities. There let humbkft hands With earth and water greet your deilin'd lord.

As through th' extenfive grove, whofe leafy

boughs,

.Entwining, <rown feme eminence with ihadc, II

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

The tempefts rufli fonorous, and between The crafhing branches roar ; by fierce difdain, By indignation, thus the Grecians rous'd, In loudeil clamour clofe the Perfian's fpeech :

Say, thou haft told the wonders of his pow'r. Then fay, thou faw'ft a flender band of Greece, Which dares his boafted millions to the field. He adds no more. Th' ambaffadors retire. Them o'er the limits of the Grecian lines Diomedon and Thefpia's youth conduct. In flow folemnity they all proceed, And fallen iilence ; but their 'ooks denote Far more than fpeech could utter. Wrath con tracts

The forehead of Diomedon. His teeth Gnafh with impatience of delayed revenge. Difdain, which fprung from' confcious merit,

flufh'd

The cheek of Dithyrambus. On the face Of either Perfian arrogance, incens'd By difappointment, lour'd. The utmoft flreight They now attain' d, which open'd t the tents Of Afia, there difcov'ring wide to view Her deep, immenfe arrangement. Then the heart Of vain Tigranes, fwelling at the fight, Thus overflows in loud and haughty phrafe.

O Arimanius ! origin of ill, Have we demanded of thy ruthlefs pow'r Thus with the curfe of madneis to afflict Thefe wretched men ? But fmce thy dreadful ire To irrefiftible perdition dooms The Grecian race, we vainly mould oppofe. Be thy dire will accomplifh'd. Let them fall, Their native foil be fatten'd with their blood.

Enrag'd, the flern Diomedon replies. Thou bafe dependent on a lawlefs king, Thou purple fiave, thou boafter, doft thou know, That I beheld the Marathonian field ? Where, like the Libyan lands before the wind, Your hoft was fcatter'd by Athenian fpears ; Where thou, perhaps, by ignominious flight Didic from this arm protc thy fhiv'ring limbs.

let me find thee in to-morrow's fight ! ^ Along this rocky pavement fhalt thou lie,

To dogs a banquet. With uplifted palms Tigranes then. Omnipotent fupport Of icepter'd, Xerxes, Horomazes, hear ! To thce his firft victorious fruits of war Thy worfhipper devotes, the gory fpoils, Which from this Grecian, by the riling dawn, In fight of either hoft my ftrength fhall rend. At length Phraoites, interpofing, fpake. |,

1 toe? would find among the Grecian chiefs One, who in battle dares abide my lance.

The gallant youth of Thefpia fwift reply'd. Thou look'fl on me, O Perfian. Worthier far Thou might have fingled from the ranks of Greece, Not one more willing to eflay thy force. Yes, I will prove before the eye of Mars, How far the prowefs of her meaneii; chief Beyond thy vaunts deferves the palm of fame.

This faid, the Perfians to their king repair, Back to their camp the Grecians. There they find Each foldier, poifing his extended fpear, His weighty buckler bracing on his arm

In warlike preparation. Through the files Each leader, moving vigilant, by praife, By exhortation aids their native warmth. Alone the Tfteban Anaxander pin'd, Who thus apart his Malian friend befpake.

What has thy lofty eloquence avail'd, Alas ! in vain attempting to confound The Spartan valour ? With redoubled fires, See, how their boforas glow. They wifh to die ; They wait impatient for th' unequal fight. Too foon th' infuperable foes will fpread Promiscuous havoc round, and Thebans fhare The doom of Spartans. Through the guarded pafs Who will adventure Afia' s camp to reach In our behalf ? That Xerxes may be warn'd To fpare his friends amid the gen'ral wreck; When his high-fwoln refentment, like a flood, Increas'd by ftormy fhow'rs, lhall cover Greece With defolation. Epialtes here.

Whence, Anaxander, this unjuft defpair ? Is there a path on Oeta's hills unknown To Epialtes ? Over tracklefs rocks,, ;. K Through mazy woods my fecret fteps can pafs. Farewell. I go. Thy merit fhall be told To Perfia'sking. Thou only watch the hour; When wanted moft, thy ready fuccour lend.

Meantime a wary, comprehenfive care To ev'ry part Leonidas extends; As in the human frame through ev'ry vein, And artery minute, the ruling heart Its vital pow'rs difperfes. In his tent The prudent chief of Locris he confults ; He fummons Melibceus by the voice Of Agis. In humility not mean, By no unfeemly ignorance deprefs'd, Th' ingenuous fwain, by all th' illuftrious houfe Of Ajax honour'd, bows before the king, Who gracious fpake. The confidence beftow'd, The praife by fage Oileus might fuffice To verify thy worth. Myfelfhave watch'd, Have found thee Ikilful, active, and difcreet. Thou know'ft the region round. With Agis go, The upper flreights, the Phocian camp explore.

O condefcenfion ! Alelibceus then, More ornamental to the great, than gems, A purple robe, or diadem. The king Accepts my fervice. Pleafing is my talk. Spare not thy fervant. Exercife my zeal. Gileus will rejoice, and fmiling, fay, An humble hand may fmooth a hero's path.

He leads the way, while Agis following, fpake. O fwain ! diftinguiih'd by a lib'ral mind, Who were thy parents ? Where thy place of birth? What chance depriv'd thee of a father's houfe ? Oileus fure thy liberty wruld grant, Or Sparta's king folicit for that grace ; When in a ftation equal to thy worth Thou may'ft be rank'd. The prudent hind began.

In diff 'rent flations diff ' rent virtues dwell, All reaping different benefits. The great In dignity and honours meet reward For acts of bounty, and heroic toils. A fervant's merit is obedience, truth, Fidelity ; his recompenfe content. Be not offended at my words, O chief! They, who are free, with envy may behold This bondman of Oif'eus. To his trufl, His love exalted, I by nature's pow'r

L E N I D A S.

From his pure model could not fail to mould What thou entitlefl lib'ral. Whence I came, Or who my parents, is to me unknown. In childhood feiz'd by robbers, I was fold. They took their price. They hufh'd th' atrocious

deed.

Dear to Oileus and his race I throve ; And whether noble, or ignoble born, I am contented, ftudious of their love Alone. Ye fons of Sparta, I admire Your acts, your fpirit, but confine my own To their condition, happy in my lord, Himfelf of men moft happy. Agis bland Rejoins. O ! born with talents to become A lot more noble, which, by thee refus'd, Thou doft. the more defcrve. Laconia's king Difcerns thy merit through its modeft veil. Confummate prudence in thy words I hear. Long may contentment, juftly priz'd, be thine. But fliould the ftate demand thee, I forefee, Thou wouldft like others in the field excel, Wouldft {hare in glory. Blithe return'd the fwain. ' Not; ev'ry fervice is confin'd to arms. Thou {halt behold me in my prefent ftate Not ufeleis. If the charge Oileus gave 1 can accomplifli, meriting his praife, And thy efteem, my glory will be full.

Both pleas'd in converfe, thus purfue their way, Where Oeta lifts her fummits huge to hcav'n Jn rocks abrupt, pyramidal, or tpvver'd Like caftles. Sudden from a tufted crag, Where goats are browfing, Melibceus hears A call of welcome. There his courie he flays.

BOOK IV.

THE ARGUMENT.

Tigranes and Phraortes repair to Xerxes, whom they find featcd on a throne, furrounded by his Satraps in a magnificent pavilion ; while the Magi {land before him, and ling a hymn, con taining the religion of Zoroaftres. Xerxes, not- withftanding the arguments of his brothers, Hy- peranthes and Abrocomes, gives no credit to the ambafladors, who report, that the Grecians arc determined to maintain the pafs againft him ; but by the advice of Artemifia, the queen of Caria, afcends his chariot to take a view of the Grecians himfelf, and commands Demaratus, an exiled king of Sparta, to attend him. He paffes through the midft of his army, confuting of many nations, differing in arms, cuftoms and manners. He advances to the entrance of the ftreights, and, furpris'd at the behaviour of the Spartans, demands the reafon of it from Dema ratus ; which occafions a converfation between them on the mercenary forces of Perfia, and the militia of Greece. Dernaratiis, weeping 1 at the fight of his countrymen, is comforted by Hype- ranthes. Xerxes, ftill incredulous, commands Tigranes and Phraortes to bring the Grecians bound before him the next day, and retires to his pavilion. Artemifia remains behind with her fon, and communicates to Hyperanthes her iipprehenfions of a defeat at Thermopylae. She takes an accurate view of the pafs, choofes a con venient place for an ambufcade, aud her depar ture to the Periiun camp is furpnfsd by a reproof

499

from a woman of an awful appearance on a cliff of mount Oeta.

THE plain beyond Thermopylg? is girt Half round by mountains, kalf by Neptune lav'd. The arduous ridge is broken deep in clefts, Which dpen channels to pellucid ilreams In rapid flow fonorous. Chief in fame Spercheos, boafting once his poplars tall, Foams down a ftony bed. Throughout the face Of this broad champain numberlels are pitch'd Barbarian tents. Along the winding flood To rich Theflalia's confines they extend. They fill the vallies, late profufeiy blefs'd In nature's vary'd beauties. Hoftile fpears Now briftle horrid through her languid ftirubs. Pale die her flowrets under barb'rous feet. Embracing ivy from its rock is torn. The lawn, dismantled of its verdure, fades. The poplar groves, uprooted from the banks, Leave defolate the ftream. Elab'rate domes, To heav'n devoted in recefies green, Had felt rude force, infenfible and blind To elegance and art. The ftatues, bufts, The figur'd vafes, mutilated lie With chifell'd columns, their engraven freeze f Their architrave and cornice, all disjoin'd.

Yet unpolluted is a part refer v'd In this deep vale, a patrimonial fpot Of Aleuadian princes, -who, allies To Xerxes, reign 'd in Theffaly. There glow 1 Inviolate the fhrubs. There branch the trees, Sons of the foreft. Over downy mofs Smooth walks and fragrant, lucid here and broad. There clos'd in myrtle under woodbine roofs, Wind to retreats delectable, to grots, To filvan ftructures, bow'rs, and cooling dells, Enliven'd all and mufical with birds Of vocal fweetnefs, in relucent plumes Innumerably various. Lulling falls Of liquid cryftal from perennial founts Attune their pebbled channels. Here the queen^ The noble dames of Perfia, here the train Of royal infants, each with eunuch guards, In rich pavilions, dazzling to the fight, Poffefs'd, remote from cnfet and furprife, A tranquil flation. Ariana here, Ill-deftin'd princefs, .from Darius fprung, Hangs, undelighted, o'er melodious rills Her drooping forehead. Love-afflicted fair ! All inharmonious are the feather" d choirs To her fad car. From flow'rs, and florid plants' To her the breezes, wafting frefh perfumes, Tranfmit no pleafure. Sedulous in vain, Her tender flaves in harmony, with lutes Of foothing found, their warbled voices blend To charm her fadnefs. This, the precious part Of Afia's camp, Artuchus holds in charge, ',,, " A fatrap, long experienc'd, who prefides O'er all the regal palaces. High rank'd, Bold, refolute and faithful, he commands The whole Sperchean vale. In profpect rife The diftant navy, dancing on the foam, Th' unbounded camp, enveloping the plain* With Xerxes' tent, auguft in flru&ure plac'd A central object to attract the eyes Of fubject millions. Thither now refort Tigranes and Phraortes. Him they fin4 liij

THE WORKS OF GLO.VER.

Enclos'd by princes, by illuftrious chiefs,

The potentates of Afia. Near his fide

Abrocomes and Hyperanthes wait,

His gallant brothers, with Mazasus brave,

Pandates, Intaphernes, mighty lords.

Their fcepter'd mafter from his radiant feat

.Looks down imperious. So the ftately tow'r

Of Belus, mingling its majeftic brow

With heav'n's bright azure, from on high furvey'd

The huge extent of Babylon, with all

Her fumptuous domes and palaces beneath.

This day his banners to unfurl in Greece

The monarch's will decides ; but firft ordains,

That grateful hymns fhould celebrate the name

Of Horomazes: So the Perfians call'd

The world's great author. Rob'd in pureft white,

The Magi rang'd before th' unfolded tent.

Fire blaz'd befide them. Tow'rds the facred flame

They turn'd, and fent their tuneful praife to

heav'n.

From Zoroaftres was the fong deriv'd, Who on the hills of Perfia, from his cave, By flow'rs environ'd, and melodious founts, Which footh'd the folemn manfion, had reveal'd, How Horomazes, radiant fource of good, Original, immortal, fram'd the globe In fruitfulnefs and beauty : how with ftars By him the heav'ns were fpangled : how the fun, Refulgent Mithra, pureft fpring of light, And genial warmth, whence teeming nature

fmiles,

Burft from the eaft at his creating voice ; "When ftraight beyond the golden verge of day Bright fhovv'd the horrors of her diftant reign, Where black and hateful Arimanius frown'd, The author foul of evil : how with {hades From his dire manfion, he deform'd the works Of Horomazes, turn'd to noxious heat The folar beam, that foodful earth might parch, That ftreams, exhaling, might forfake their beds, Whence peftHence and famine : how the pow'r Of Horomazes in the human breait Benevolence and equity infus'd, Truth, temperance, and wifdom, fprung from

heav'n :

When Arimanius blacken'd all the foul "With falfchood and injuftice, with defires I nfa liable, with violence and rage, Malignity and folly. If the hand Of Horomazes on precarious life Sheds wealth and pleafure ; fwift th' infernal god With wild excefs, or av'rice, blafts the joy. Thou Horomazes, vidlory doft give. By thee with fame the regal head is crown'd. Great Xerxes owns thy fuccour. When in iiorms The hate of direful Arimanius fwell'd The Hellcfpont ; thou o'er its chafing breaft The deftin'd mafter of the world didft lead, This day his promis'd glories to enjoy : When Greece affrighted to his arm fhall bend ; Ev'n as at laft fhall Arimanius fall Before thy might, and evil be no more.

The Magi ceas'd their harmony. Behold, / From her tall fhip, between a double row Of naval warriors, while a golden ray Shoots from her ftandard, Artemifia lands. In her enrich' d accoutrements of war, The full-wrought buckler, acd high-crefijed held,

In Caria firft devis'd, acrofs the beacn Her tow'ring forai advances. So the pine, From Taurus hewn mature in fpiry pride, Now by the failor in its canvafj wings Voluminous, and dazzling pendants drefs'd,* On Artemifia's own imperial deck Is feen to rife, and overtop the grove Of crowded mafts lurrounding. In her heart Deep icorn of courtly counfeilors (he bore, Who fill with impious vanity their king; As when he lafh'd the Hellefpont with rods, Amid the billows caft a golden chain To fetter Neptune. Yet her brow fevere Unbent its rigour often, as fhe glanc'd On her young fon, who, pacing near in arms Of Carian guife, proportien'd to his years, Look'd up, and waken'd by repeated fmiles Maternal fondnefs, melting in that eye, Which fcowl'd on purpled flatterers. Her feat At the right hand of Xerxes fhe affumes, Invited ; while in adoration bow r d - Tigranes and Phraortes. Prone they lay, Acrofs their foreheads fpread their fervile palms, As from a prefent deity, top bright For mortal vifion, to conceal their eyes. At length in abjed: phrafe Tigranes thus.

O Xerxes, live for ever ! Gracious lord, Who doft permit thy fervants to approach Thy awful fight, and proftrate to confefs Thy majefty and radiance. May the pow'r Of Horomazes ftreTxh thy regal arm O'er endlefs nations, from the Indian fhores To thofe wide floods, which beat Iberian ftrands, From northern Tanais to the fource of Nile i Still from thy head may Arimanius bend Againft thy foes his malice ! Yonder Greeks, Already fmit with frenzy by his wrath, Reject thy profer'd clemency. They choofe To magnify thy glory by their fall.

The monarch, turning to his brothers, fpake. Say, Hyperanthes, can thy foul believe Thefe tidings ? Sure thefe flaves have never dar'd To face the Grecians, but delude our ears With bafe impoftures, which their fear fuggefts.

He frown'd ', and Hyperanthes calm reply 'd.

from his fervants may the king avert His indignation ! Greece was fam'd of old For martial fpirit, and a dauntlefs breed.

1 once have try'd their valour. To my words Abrocomes can witnefs. When tky fire

And ours, Darius, to Athenian fhores With Artaphernes brave, and Datis, fent Our tender youth ; at Marathon we found How weak the hope, that numbers could difmay A foe, refolv'd'on victory, or death. Yet not, as one contemptible, or bafe, Let me appear before thee. Thoug^i the Greeks With fuch perfifting courage be endu'd, Soon as the king fhall fummon to the field, He fhall behold me in the dang'rous van Exalt my fpear, and pierce the hoftile ranks, Or fink beneath them. Xerxes fwift rejoin'd.

Why over Afia, and the Libyan foil, With all their nations, doth my potent arm Extend its fceptre ? Wherefore do I fweep Acrofs the earth with millions in my train ? Why fhade the ocean with unnumber'd fails ? Why all this pow'r, nckis tb,' Almighty's will

L N I D A S.

Decreed one mafar to the fubjecl world ;

And that the earth's extremity alone

Should bound my empire ? He far this reduc'd

The Nile's revolted fons, enlarg'd my fway

With fandy Libya, and the fultry clime

Of /Ethiopia. He for this fubdu'd

The Hellefpontic foam, and taught the fea

Obedience to my nod. Then dream no more,

That heav'n, defeiting my imperial caufe,

With courage more than human, will infpire

Yon defpicable Grecians, and expunge

The common fears of nature from their breads.

The monarch ceas'd. Abrocomes began. The king commands us to reveal our thoughts. Incredulous he hears. But time and truth Not Horomazes can arreft. Thy beams To inltant lightning, Mithra, may'ft thou change For my dertruclion ; may th* offended king Frown on his iervant, caft a lothing eye ; It the aflertion of my lips be falfe : Our further march thole Grecians will oppofe.

Amid th' encircling peers Argeftes fat, A potent prince. O'er Sipylus he reign'd, VVhofe verdant fummits overlook'd the waves Of Hermus and 1'aclolus. Either ftream, Enrich'd by golden fands, a tribute pay'd To this great tatrap. Through the fervile court Yet none was found more practic'd in the arts Of mean fubmilfion ; none more fkill'd to gain The royal favour ; none, who better knew The phrafe, the look, the gefture of a (lave ; None more detefting Artemifia's worth, By her none more defpis'd. His matter's eye He caught, then fpake. Difplay thy dazzling

ft ate,

Thou deity of Afia. Greece will hide Before thy prefence her dejecled fac. Laft Artemifia, rifmg ftern, began : Why fits the lord of Alia in his tent, Unprofirably walling precious hours In vain diicuflion, whether yonder Greeks, Rang'd in defence of that important pafs, Will fight, or fly ? A queftion by the fword To be decided. Still to narrow (freights By land,, by fea thy council hath confin'd Each enterprise of war. In numbers weak Twice have th' Athenians in Euboea's frith Repuls'd thy navy But whate'er thy will, Be it enforc'd by vigour. . Let the king The diff'rence fee by trial in the field Between fmotrth found and valour. Then cliflolve Thefe impotent debates. Afcend thy car. The future ftage of war thyfelf explore. Behind thee leave the vanity of hope, That Inch a foe to fpJendour will fubmit. Whom fteel, not gold muft vanquifh. Thou pro

vide

Thy mail, Argeftes. Not in filken robes, Not as in council with an oily tongue, But fpear to fpear, and clanging fhield to fhield, Thou loon muft grapple on a field of blood.

The king arofe No more. Prepare my car. The Spartan exile, Demaratus, call. We will ourielves advance to view the foe.

The monarch wilPd ; and fuddenly he heard His trampling horfes. High on filver wheels The iv'ry car with azure fapphires (hone,

Csrulean beryls, and the jafper green, The emerald, the ruby's glowing blulh, The flaming topaz with its golden beam, f he pearl, th' empurpled amethyft, and all The various gems, which India's mines afford To deck the pomp of kings. In burnifh'd gold A fculptnr'd eagle from behind difplay'd His (lately neck, and o'er the royal head Qntftretch'd his dazzling wings. Eight gen'rous

fteeds,

.Vhich on the fam'd Nifaean plain were nurs'd [n wint'ry Media, drew the radiant car. Not thofe of old, to Hercules refus'd By falfe Laomedon, nor they, which bore The fon of Thetis through the fcatter'd rear Of Troy's devoted race, with thefe might vie In ftrength, or beauty. In obedient pride They hear their lord. Exulting, in the air They tofs their foreheads. On their glift'ning

chefts

The filver manes difport. The king afcends. Befide his footftool Demaratus fits. The charioteer now (hakes th' effulgent reins, Strong Patiramphe*. At the fignal bound Th' attentive fteeds; the chariot flies: behind, Ten thoufand horfe in thunder fweep the field. Down to the fea-beat margin, on a plain Of vaft expanfion in battalia wait The eaftern bands. To thefe th* imperial wheels, By princes follow'd in a hundred cars, Proceed. The queen of Caria and her fon With Hyperanthes rode. The king's approach Swift through the wide arrangement is proclaimed. He now draws nigh. Th* innumerable hod Roll back by nations, and admit their lord With all his fatrap 1 -. As from cryftal domes, Built underneath an arch of pendent feas, When that ftern pow'r, whole trident rules the

floods,

With each cerulean deity afcends, Thron'd in his pearly chariot, all the deep Divides its bofom to th' emerging god ; So Xerxes rode between the Aiian world. On either fide receding : when, as down Th' immeafurable ranks his fight was loft, A momentary gloom o'ercaft his mind, While this reflection fill'd his eyes with tears : That, foon as time a hundred years had told, Not one among thofe millions fhould furvive. Whence to obfcure thy pride arofe that cloud ? Was it, that once humanity could touch A tyrant's breaft ? or rather did thy foul R-pine, O Xerxes, at the bitter thought, That all thy pow'r was mortal ? but the veil Of fadnefs foon forfook his brightning eye, As with adoring awe thofe millions bow'd, And to his heart relentlefs pride recall'd. Elate the mingled profpedl he furveys Of glitt'ring files unnumber'd, chariots ftytVtf, On thundring axles roll'd, and haughty fteeds, In ftiraptuous trappings clad, Barbaric pomp. While gorgeous banners to the fun expand Their ftreaming volumes of reiucent gold, Pre-eminent amidft tiaras geaim'd, Engraven helmets, fhields embofs'd, and fpears In number equal to the bladed grafs, Whofe living green in vernal beauty clothes I i iij %

S-*

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Thcflalia's vale. What paw 'rs of founding verfe

Can to the? mind prefent th' amazing fcene ?

Not thee, whom rumour's fabling voice delights,

Poetic fancy, to my aid I call ;

But thou, hiftoric truth, fupport my fong,

"Which (hall the various multitude difplay,

Their arms, their manners, and their native feats.

The Perfians firft in fcaly corfelets fhone, A gen'rous nation, worthy to enjoy The liberty, their injur'd fathers loft, Whofe arms for Cyrus overturned the ftrength Of Babylon and Sardis, Pow'r advanc'd The victor's head above his country's laws. Their tongues were practis'd in the words of truth, Their limbs inur'd to ev'ry manly toil, To brace the bow, to rule th' impetuous fteed, To dart the javelin ; but untaught to form The ranks of war, with unconnected force. With ineffectual fortitude they rum'd, As on a fence of adamant, to pierce Th' indifloluble phalanx. Lances (hoit, And ofier-xvoven targets they oppos'd To weighty Grecian fpears, and maffy fhields. On ev'ry head tiaras rofe like tow'rs, Impenetrable. With a golden glofs Blaz'd their gay fandals, and the floating reins Of each proud courfer. Daggers on their thighs, Well-furnifli'd quivers on their fhoulders hung, And ftrongeft bows of mighty fize they bore. Refembling thefe in arms, the Medes are feen, The Ciffians and Hyrcanians. Media once From her bleak mountains aw'd the fubjedl eaft. Her kings in cold Ecbatana were thron'd. The Ciffians march'd from Sufa's regal walls, From fultry fields, o'erfpread with branching

palms,

And white with lilies, water'd by the floods Of fam'.d Choafpes. His tranfparent wave The coftly goblet wafts to Perfia's kings. All other firearm the royal lip difdains. Hyrcania's race forfook their fruitful clime, Dark in the fliadows of expanding oaks, To Ceres dear and Bacchus. There the corn, Bent by its foodful burden flieds, unreap'd, Its plenteous feed, impregnating the foil With future harvefts ; while in ev'ry wood Their precious labours on the Joaden boughs The honey'd fwarms purfue. AfTyria's fons Difplay their brazen cafques, unikilful work Of rude Barbarians. Each fuftains a mace, O'erlaid with iron. Near Euphrates' banks Within the mighty Babylonian gates They dwell, and where ftill mightier once in

fway

Old Ninus reai'd its head, th.' imperial feat Of eldeft tyrants. Thefe Chaldaea joins, The land of fhepherds. From the paftures wide There Belus fail difcern'd the various courfe Of Heav'n's bright planets, and the cluft'ring ftar With names diftinguifh'd ; whence himfelf wa

deem'd

The firft of gods. His fky-afcending fane In Babylon the proud AfTyrians rais'd. Drawn from the bounteous foil, by Ochus lav'd, The Bactrians flood, and rough in fkins of goats The Paricanian archers. Cafpian ranks From barren mountains, from the joylefs coaft

Around the ftormy lake, whofe name they bore, Their fcimiters upheld, and cany bows. The Indian tribes, a threefold hoft compofe. "art guide the courfer, part the rapid car; The reft on foot within the bending cane r or {laughter fix the iron-pointed reed. They o'er the Indus from the diftant verge )f Ganges paffing, left a region, lov'd 5y lavifh nature. There the feafon bland Seftows a double harveft. Honey'd ftirubs, The cinnamon, the fpikenard blefs their fields. Array'd in native wealth, each warrior fliines. lis ears bright-beaming pendants grace ; his

hands,

incircled, wear a bracelet, ftarr'd with gems. Such were the nations, who to Xerxes fent Their mingled aids of infantry and horfe.

Now, mufe, recite, what multitudes obfcur'd The plain on foot, or elevated high On martial axles, or on camels beat The loofen'd mold. The Parthians firft appear, Then weak in numbers, from unfruitful hills, From woods, nor yet for warlike fteeds re nown 'd.

Near them the Sogdians, Dadices arrange, Gandarians and Chorafmians. Saciah throngs From cold Imanspour'd, from Oxus' wave, From Cyra, built on laxartes' brink, A bpund of Perfia's empire. Wild, untam'd, To fury prone their deferts they forfook. A bow, a falchion, and a pond'rous ax The favage legions arm'd. A pointed cafque O'er each grim vifage rear'd an iron cone, In arms like Perfians the Saranges llood. High, as their knees, the mapely bufkins clung Around their legs. Magnificent they trod In garments richly tinctur'd. Next are feen The Padlian, Mycian, and the Utian train, In fkins of goats rude-vefted. But in fpoils Of tawny lions, and of fpotted pards The graceful range of Ethiopians ihows An equal ftature, and a beauteous frame. Their torrid region had imbrown'd their cheeks, And curlM their jetty locks. Jn ancient fong Renown'd for juitice, riches they difdain'd, As foes to virtue. From their feat remote On Nilus' verge above th' Egyptian bound Fcrc'd by their king's malignity and pride, Thefe friends of hofpitality and peace, Themfelves uninjur'd, wage reluctant war Againft a land, whofe climate, and whofe name To them were ftrange. With hardeft ftone they

point

The rapid arrow. Bows four cubits long, Form'd of elaflic branches from the palm, They cavry, knotted clubs, and lances, arm'd With horns of goats. The Paphlagonians march'd, From where Carambis with projected brows O'erlooks the dufky Euxine, wrapt in mafts, From where through flow'rs, which paint his va-

ry'd banks,

Parthenius flows. The Ligyan bands fucceed ; The Martienians, Mariandenians next; To them the Syrian multitudes, who range Among the cedars on the maded ridge Of Libanus ; who cultivate the glebe, Wide. water'd by Orontes j w

LEONIDAS.

Near Daphne's grove, or pluck from loaded

palms

The foodful date, which cluflers on the plains Of rich Damafcus. All, who bear the name Of Cappadocians, fwell the Syrian hoft, With thofe, who gather from the fragrant fhrub The aromatic baliam, and extract Its milky juice along the lovely fide Of Jordan, winding, till iramers'd he fleeps Beneath a pitchy furface, which obfcures Th' Afphaltic pool. The Phrygians then advance, To them their ancient colony are join'd, Armenia's fons. Thefe fee the gufhing founts Of rtrong Euphrates cleave the yielding earth, Then, wide in lakes expanding, hide the plain ; Whence with collected waters, fierce and deep, His palTage rending through diminifh'd rocks, To Babylon he foams. Not fo the ftream Of foft Araxes to the Cafpian glides ; He, ftealing imperceptibly, fuftains The green profufion of Armenia's meads. Now ftrange to view, in fimilar attire, But far unlike in manners to the Greeks, Appear the Lydians. Wantonnefs and fport Were all their care. Befide Cayfter's brink, Or fmooth Maeander, winding filent by, Befide Pa&olean waves, among the vines Of Timolus rifing, or the wealthy tide Of golden-fanded Hermus they allure The fight, enchanted by the graceful dance; Or with melodious fwcetnefs charm the air, And melt to fofteft languifhment the foul. What to the field of danger could incite Thefe tender fons of luxury ? The lafli Of their fell tbv'reign drove their fliiv'ring backs Through hail and tempeft, which enrag'd the

main,

And fliook beneath their trembling. (reps the pile, Conjoining Afia and the weftern world. To them Mceonia hot with fulph'rous mines Unites her troops. No tree adorns their fields, Unblefs'd by verdure. Afheshide the foil; Black are the rocks, and ev'ry hill deform'd By conflagration. Helmets prefs their brows. Two darts they brandifli. On their woolly vefts A fword is girt ; and hairy hides compofe Their bucklers round and fraall. The Myfians left Olympus wood-envelop'd, left the meads, Wafli'd by Cai'cus, and the baneful tide Of Lycus, nurfe to ferpents. Next advance An ancient nation, who in early times By Trojan arms affail'd, their native land Efteem'd lei's dear, than freedom, and exchang'd Their feat on Strymon, where in Thrace he pours A free/ing current, for the diftant flood Of fifhy Sangar. Thefe, Bithynians nam'd, Their habitation to the facred feet Of Dindymus extend. Yet there they groan Beneath oppreflion, and their freedom mourn On Sangar now, as once on Strymon loft. The ruddy (kins of foxes cloth'd their heads. Their fhields were fafhion'd like the horned moon. A veft embrac'd their bodies ; while abroad, Ting'd with unnumber'd hues, a mantle flow'd. But other Thracians, who their former name Retain'd in Afia, fulgent morions wore, With horns of bulls in imitating brafs,

Curv'd o'er the crefted ridge. Phoenician cloth Their legs infolded. Wont to chafe the wolf, A hunter's fpear they grafp'd. What nations ftill On either fide of Xerxes, while he pafs'd, Their huge array difcov'ring, fwill his foul With more than mortal pride ? The dufter'd

bands

Of Mofchians and Macronians now appear, The Mofyncecians, who, on berries fed, In wooden towers along the Pontic fands Repofe their painted limbs; the mirthful race Delight in play and laughter. Then advance In garments, buckled on their fpacious chefts, A people, deftin'd in eternal verfe, Ev'n thine, fublime Mceonides, to live. Thefe are the Milyans. Solymi their name In thy celeftial drains, Pifidia's hills Their dwelling. Once a formidable train They fac'd the ftrong Bellerophon in war. Now doom'd a more tremendous foe to meet, Themfelves unnerv'd by thraldom, they mud
 * Of Tibarenians next, vvhofe carelefs minds

leave

Their putrid bodies to the dogs of Greece. The Marians follow. Next is Aria's hoft, Drawn from a region horrid all in thorn, A dreary waile of fands, which mock the toil Of patient culture ; fave one favour'd fpot, Which from the wild emerges like an ifle, Attir'd in verdure, interfper'd with vines Of gen'rous nurture, yielding juice, \vhich fcorns The injuries of time : yet nature's hand Had fown their rocks with cora'l ; had enrich'd Their defert hills with veins of fapphires blue, Which on the turbant fhine. On ev'ry neck The coral blufhes through the num'rous throng. The Allarodians, and Safperian bands, Equipp'd like Colchians, wield a falchion fmall. Their heads are guarded by a helm of wood, Their lances fhort, of hides undrefs'd their fhields. The Cokhians march'd from Phafis, from the

ftrand,

Where once Medea, fair enchantrefs, flood, And, wond'ring, view'd the firft advent'rous keel, Which cut the Pontic foam. From Argo's fide The demigods defcended. They repair'd To her fell fire's inholpitable hall. His blooming graces Jafon there difclos'd. With ev'ry art of eloquence divine He claim'd the golden fleece. The virgin heard, She gaz'd in fatal ravifhment, and lov'd. Then to the hero me refigns her heart. Her magic tames the brazen^footed bulls. She lulls the fleeplefs dragon. O'er the main He wafts the golden prize, and gen'rous fair, The deftin'd victim of his treach'rous vows. The hoftile Colchians then purfu'd their flight In vain. By ancient enmity inflam'd, Or to recal the long-forgotten wrong Compell'd by Xerxes, now they menace Greece With defolation. Next in Median garb A crowd appear'd,'who left the peopled ifles In Perfia's gulf, and round Arabia ftrewn. Some in their native topaz were adorn 'd, From Ophiodes, from Topazos fprung ; Some in the (hells of tortoifes, which brood Around Cafitis' verge. For battle range I i iiij

5*4

Thofe, whorefide, where, *llb?fet with palms,

Erythras lies entombM, a potent king,

Who nam'd of old the Erythraean main.

On chariots fcyth'd the Libyans fat array 'd

In (kins terrifio, brandifhing their darts

Of wood, well-temper'd in the hard'ning flames.

Not Libya's deferts from tyrannic fway

Could hide her ions ; much lefs could freedom

dwell

Amid the plenty of Arabia's fields : Where fpicy Carfia, where the fragrant rerd, Where myrrh, and hallow'd frankincenie per-

fume

The zephyr's wing. A bow oflargeft fize Th' Arabian carries. O'er his lucid veil Loofe floats a mantle, on his flioulder clafp'd. Two chofen myriads on the lofty backs Of camels rode, who match'd the rleeteft horfe.

Such were the numbers, which, Mom Afia led, In bafe proftration bow'd before the wheels Of Xerxes' chariot. Yet what legions more The Maiian fand o'erfliadow ? Forward rolls The. regal car through nations, who in arms, In order'd ranks unlike the orient tribes, Upheld the fpear and buckler. But, untaught To bend the ferrile knee, eredl they Hood ; Unlefs thaf, moprning o'er the fhameful weight Of their new bondage, fome their brows depreis'd, Their arms with grief diftaining. Europe's Ions Were thefe, whom Xerxes by refiftlefs force Pad gather'd round his itandards. Murm'ring

here,

The fpns of Thrace and Macedonia rang'd ; Here on his fteed the brave ThevTalian frown'd ; There pin'd reludlant multitudes, of Greece Redundant plants, in colonies ditpers'd Between Byzantium, and the Maiian bay.

Through all the nations, who ador'd his pride, Or fear'd his pow'r, the monarch now was pafs'd ; !Nor yet among thoie millions could be found One, who in beauteous feature might compare, Or tow'ring fize with Xerxes. O 4 poflefs'd Of all, but virtue, doom'd to fliow, how mean, low weak without her is unbounded pow'r, "The charm of beauty, and the blaze of {tate, Kow infecure of happaefs, how vain ! Thou, who couldft mourn the common lot, by

heav'n From none withheld, which oft to thoufands

proves

Their only refuge from a tyrant's rage ; Which in confuming ficknefs, age, or pain JBecomes at laft a foqthing hope to all : Thou, who couldft weep, that nature's gentle

hand

Should lay her weary'd offspring in the tomb ; Yet couldft remorfelefs from their peaceful feats Lead half the nations, victims to thy pride, To famine, plague and maffacre a prey ; What didft thou merit from the injur'd world ? What fuff'rings tp compenfate for the tears Of Afia's mothers, for unpeopled realms, For all this wafte of nature ? On his hoft Th' exulting monarch bends his haughty fight, To Demaratus then directs his voice.

My father, great Darius, to thy mind ^ecal, O Spartan, Gracious he receiv'd

THE WOK.KS OF GLOVER.

Thy wand'ring fteps, expell'd their native home.

My favour too remember. To beguile

Thy henefaclor, and disfigure truth

Would ill become thee. With confid'rate eyes

Look hack on thefe battalions. Now declare,

If yonder Grecians will oppofe their march.

To him the exile. Deem not, mighty lord, I will deceive thy goodnefsby a tale To give them glory, who degraded mine. Nor be the king' olFended, while I ufe The voice of truth. The Spartans never fly.

Contemptuous fmil'd'the monarch, and refum'd. Wilt thou in Lacedemon once fupreme, Encounter twenty Perfians ? Yet thefe Greeks hi greater difproportion mud engage Our hoft to-morrow. Demaratus then.

By fujgle combat were the trial vain To fhow the pow'r of well-united force, Which oft by military fkiH furmounts The weight of numbers. Prince, the difTrence

learn

Between thy warriors, and the fons of Greece. The flow'r, the lafeguard of thy num'rous camp Are mercenaries. Thefe are canton'd round Thy provinces. No fertile field demands Their painful hand to break the fallow glebe. Them to the noon-day toil no bar veil calls. Nor on the mountain falls the ftuhborn oak By their laborious ax. Their watchful eyes Oblerve not, how the flocks and heifers feed. To them of wealth, of all poffeflions void, The name of country with an empty found Flies o'er the ear, nor warms their joylefs hearts, Who fhare no country. Needy, yet in fcorn Rejecting labour, wretched by their wants, Yet profligate through indolence, with limbs Enervated and foft, with minds corrupt, From mifery, debauchery and fioth Are thefe to battle drawn againft a foe, Train'd in gymnaftic exercife and arms, Inur'd to hardfhip, and the child of toil. [ftorm V/ont through the freezing fhow'r, the wint'ry O'er his own glebe the tardy ex to goad, Or in the fun's impetuous heat to glow Beneath the burden of his yellow fheaves; Whence on himfelf, on her, whofe faithful arms Infold him joyful on a growing race, Which glad his dwelling, plenty he bcftows With independence. When to battle call'd, For them his dtareft comfort, and his care,. And for the harvefl, promis'd to his toil, He lifts the fhield, nor fhuns unequal force. Such are the troops of ev'ry ftate in Greece. Gne only yields a breed more warlike ftill, Of whom feleclied bands appear in fight, All citizens of Sparta. 1 hey the glebe Have never turn'd, nor bourid the golden fheaf. They are devoted to feverer taflcs, For war alone, their fole delight and care. From infancy to manhood they are train'd To winter watches, to inclement Ikies, To plunge through torrents, brave the tufky

boar,

To arms and wounds ; a difcipline of pain So fierce, fo conftaht, that to them a camp With all its hardlhips is a feat of reft, And war itfelf remiflion from their toil.

Thy words are folly, with redoubled fcorn Returns the monarch. Doth not freedom dwell

L E O N 1 D A S.

505

Among the Spartans ? Therefore will they (him Superior foes. The unrefhrain'd and free Will fly from danger ; while my vaffals, born To abfolute controlment from their king, Know, if th' alloted llation they defert, The fcourge awaits them, and my heavy wrath.

To this the exile. O conceive not, prince, That Spartans want an object, where to fix Their eyes in rev'rcnce, in obedient dread. To them more awful than the name of king To Afia's trembling millions, is the law ; Whole facred voice enjoins them to confront Unnumber'd foes, to vanquifh, or to die.

Here Demaratus paules. Xerxes halts. Its long defile Thermopylae prelents. The fatraps leave their cars. On foot they form A fplcndid orb around their lord. By chance The Spartans then compos'd th' external guard. They, in a martial exercife employ'd, Heed not the monarch, or his gaudy train ; Bat poifc the Ipear, protended, as in fight; Or lift their adverfe fhield* in fingle ftrife ; Or, trooping, forward rufh, retreat and wheel In ranks unbroken, and with equal feet : While others calm beneath their polifh'd helms Draw down their hair, whofe length of fable curls O'erfpread their necks with terror. Xerxes here The exile queftions. What do thefe intend, Who with affiduous hands adjuft their hair ?

To whom the Spartan. O imperial lord, Such is their cuflom, to adorn their heads, When full determin'd to encounter death. Bringdown thy nations in refplendent fteel; Arm, if thou canft, the gen'ral race of man, All, who poffefs the regions unexplor'd Beyond the Ganges, all whofe wand'ring fleps Above the Cafpian range the Scythian wild, With thofe, who drink the fecret fount of Nile : Yet to Laconian bofoms fhall difmay Remain a ftrauger. Fervour from his lips Thus breaks aloud ; when, gufhing from his eyes, Refiftlefs grief o'erflows his cheeks. Afide His head he turns. He weeps' in copious flreams. The keen remembrance of his former flate, His dignity, his greatnefs, and the fight Of thofe brave ranks, which thus unfhaken flood, And fpread amazement through the world in arms, Excite thefe forrows. His impaffion'd looks Review the godlike warriors, who beneath His ftandard once victorious fought, who call'd Him once their king, their leader; then again, O'ercharg'd with anguiih, he b,edews with tears His rev'rend beard, in agony bemoans His faded honours, his illuftrious name Forgotten long, his majefty defil'd By exile, by dependence. So obfcur'd By fordid mols, and ivy's creeping leaf, Some princely palace, or flupendous fane Magnificent in ruin nods ; where time From under fhelving architraves hath mow'd The column down, and cleft the pond'rous dome.

Not unoblerv'd by Hyperanthes, mourn'd Th' unhappy Spartan. Kindly in his own He prefs'd the exile's hand, and thus humane.

O Demaratus, in this grief I fee, How jyft thy praifes of Laconia's ftate. Though cherHh'd here with univerfal love, Thou Hill deplor'ft thy abfence from he*- face,

Howc'er averfe to thine. But fwift relief From indignation borrow. Call to mind Thy injuries. Th' aufpicious fortune blefs, Which led thee far from calumny and fraud, To peace, to honour in the Perfian court.

As -Demaratus with a grateful mind His anfwer was preparing, Perlia's king 1 Stern interrupted. Soon as morning fhines, Do you, Tigranes and Phraortes, head [bound. The Medes and Ciffians. Bring thefe Grecians,

This laid, the monarch to his camp returns. Th' attendant princes reafcend their cars, Save Hyperanthes, by the Carian queen Detain 'd, who thus began. Impartial, brave, Nurs'd in a court, yet virtuous, let my heart To thee its feelings undifguis'd reveal. Thpu hear'fk thy royal brother. He demands Theie Grecians bound. Why flops his mandate

there ? *

VVhy not command the mountains to remove, Or fink to level plains. Yon Spartans view, Their weighty arms, their countenance. To die My gratitude inftructs me in the caule Of our imperial niafter. To fucceed Is not within the fhadow of my hopes At this dire pafe. What evil genius 1'ways? Tigranes, falfe Argefles, and the reft In name a council, ccafelefs have oppos'd My dictates, oft repeated in defpight Of purple flatt'rers, to embark a force, Which, pouring on Laconia, might confine Thefe fons of valour to their own defence. Vain are my words. The royal ear admits Their found alone ; while adulation's notes In fyren iweetnefs penetrate his heart, There lodge enfnaring mifchicf. In a figh To her the prince. O faithful to thy lord, Difcreet advifer, and in action firm, What can I anfwer ? My ufflictcd foul Mull leek its refuge in a feebie hope. Thou mayft be partial to thy Doric race, Mayft magnify our danger. Let me hope,. Whate'er the danger, if extreme, believe, That Hyperanthes for his prince can bleed Not with lefs zeal, than Spartans for their laws.

They feparate. To Xerxes he repairs. The queen, furrounded by the Carian guard, Stays and retraces with fagacious ken The deftin'd field of war, the vary'd fpace, Its depth, its confines both of hill and fea. Meantime afcene more fplendid hath ailur'd Her fen's attention. Histranfported fight With ecftafy like worfhip long purfues The pomp of Xerxes in retreat, the throne, Which fhow'd their idol to the nations round, The bounding fteeds, caparifon'd in gold, The plumes, the chariots, ftandards. He excites Her care, exprefs'd in thefe pathetic {trains.

Look on the king with gratitude. His fire Protected thine. Himfelf upholds our ftate. By loyalty inflexible repay The obligation. To immortal pow'rs The adoration of thy foul confine ; And look undazzled on the pomp of man Moft weak, when higheft. Then the jealous gods Watch to fupplant him. They his paths, his courts, His chambers fill with flatt'ry'spois'nous fwarms, Whofe honey'd bane, by kingly pride devour' d,

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Confumes the health of kingdoms. Here the boy By an attention, which furpafs'd his years, Unlocks her inmoft bofom. Thrice accurs'd Be thofe, th' indignant heroine purfues, Thofe who have tempted their imperial lord To that prepoft'rous arrogance, which caft Chains in the deep to manacle the waves, Chaftis'd with {tripes in heav'ns oifended fight The Hellefpont, and fondly now demands The Spartans bound. O child, my foul's delight, Train'd by my care to equitable fway, And imitation of the gods by deeds To merit their protection, heed my voice. They, who alone can tame, or fwell the floods, Compofe the winds, or guide their ftrong career, Overwhelming human greatnefs, will confound Such vanity in mortals. On our fleet Their indignation hath already fall'n. Perhaps our boafted army is prepar'd A prey, for death to vindicate their pow'r.

This faid, a curious fearch in ev'ry part Here eye renews. Adjoining to the ilreights, Freih bloom'd a thicket of entwining fhrubs, A feeming fence to fome fequefter'd ground, By travellers unbeaten, Swift her guards Addrefs'd their fpears to part the pliant boughs. Held back, they yield a paffage to the queen, And princely boy. Delicious to their fight Soft dales meandring, fhow their flow'ry laps Among rude pile:; of nature. In their fides Of rock are manfions hewn ; nor loaden trees Of clufter'd fruit are wanting : but no found, Except of brooks in murmur, and the long Of winged warblers, meets the lift'ning ear. No grazing herd, no flock, nor human form Is feen, no careful hufband at his toil, Befide her threshold no induftrious wife, No playful child. Inftructive to her fon The princefs then. Already thefe abodes Are defolate. Once happy in their homes ' Th' inhabitants forfake them. Pieafing fcene Of nature's bounty, foon will favage Mars Deform the lovely ringlets of thy Ihrubs, And coarfely pluck thy violated fruits Unripe ; will deafen with his clangour fell Thy tuneful choirs. 1 mourn thy deitin'd fpoil, Yet come thy firft defpoiler. Captains, plant, Ere morning breaks, my fecret ilandardhere. Come, boy, away. Thy fafety will I truft To Demaratus ; while thy mother tries With thefe her martial followers, what fparks, JLeft by our Doric fathers, yet inflame Their Ions and daughters in a ftern debate With other Dorians, who have never breath 1 d The foft'ning gales of Afia, never bow'd In forc'd allegiance to Barbarian thrones. Thou heed my order. Thofe ingenuous looks Of difcontent fupprefs. For thee this fight Were too fevere a leffon. Thou might'ft bleed Among the thoufands, fated to expire By Sparta's lance. Let Artemifia die, Ye all-difpofing rulers, but protect Her fon. She ceas'd. The lionefs, who reigns Queen of the foreft, terrible in ftrength, And prone to fury, thus by nature taught, Melts o'er her young in blandifhment arid love.

Now flowly tow'rds the Perfian camp her ileps In filence fhe directed ; when a voice,

Sent from a rock, acceffible which feem'd To none, but feather'd pafTengers of air, By this reproof detain'd her. Caria's queen Art thou, to Greece by Doric blood ally'd ? Com'fl thou to lay her fruitful meadows wafte, Thou homager of tyrants ? Upward gaz'd Th' aitoniuYd princefs. Lo I a female lhape, Tall and majeftic, from th' impendent ridge Look'd awful down. A holy fillet bound Her graceful hair, loofe flowing. Seldom wept Great Artemifia. Now a Springing tear Between her eyelids gleam'd. Too true, (he

fighM,

A homager of tyrants ! Voice auftere, And prefence half divine ! Again the voice.

O Artemifia, hide thy Doric fword. Let no barbarian tyrant through thy might, Thy counfels, valiant as thou art and wife, Confume the holy fanes, deface the tombs, Subvert the Uws of Greece, her fons enthral.

The queen made no reply. Her breaft-plate

heav'd.

The tremulous attire of cov'ring mail Confefs'd her ftruggle. She at length exclaim'd.

Olympian thund'rer, from thy neighb'ring hill Of lacred o'aths remind me ! Then afide She turns to fhun that majefty of form, In folemn founds upbraiding. Torn her thoughts She feels. A painful conflict fhe endures With recollection of her Doric race ; Till gratitude, reviving, arms her breaft. Her royal benefactor fhe recals, Back to his fight precipitates her fteps.

BOOK V.

THE ARGUMENT.

LEONIDAS, rifing by break of day, hears trie Intel- ligence which Agis and Melibceus bring from the upper pafs, than commands a body of Arcadians, with the Plataeans and Thefpians, to be drawn out for battle, under the conduct of Demophi- lus, in that part of Thermopylae which lies cloie to the Phocian wall, from whence he ha rangues them. The enemy approaches. Diome- don kills Tigranes in fingle combat. Both ar mies join battle. Dithyrambus kills Phraor- tes. The Perfians, entirely defeated, are purfu- ed by Demophilus to the extremity of the pafs. The Arcadians, inconfiderately advancing be yond it, fall into an ambufh, which Artemifia had laid to cover the retreat of the Perfians. She kills Clonius, but is herfelf repulfed by De mophilus. Diomedon and Dithyrambus give chafe to her broken forces over the plains, in the fight of Perfia's camp, whence fhe receives no affiilance. She rallies a fmall body, and, facing the enemy, difables Dithyrambus by a blow on his helmet. This puts the Grecians into fome confufion, and gives her an opportunity of pre- ferving the remainder of her Carians by a time ly retreat. She gains the camp, accufes Argef- tes of treachery, but pacified by Demaratus, is accompanied by him with a thoufand horfe, to collect the dead bodies of her foldiers for fe- pulchre.

AURORA dawn'd. Leonidas arofe. With Meliboeus Agis, now return'd, Addrefs'd the king. Along the mountain's fide We bent our journey. On our way a voice, Loud from a crag, on Melibceus call'd. He look'd and anfwer'd. Mycon, ancient friend ! Far haft thou driv'n thy bearded train to-day ; But fortunate thy prefence. None like thee, Inhabitant of Oeta from thy birth, , Can furnifh that intelligence, which Greece Wants for her fafety. Mycon fliow'd a track. We mounted high. The fummit where we ftopp'd, Gave to the fight a profpect wide o'er hills, O'er dales and forefts, rocks, and dafhing floods In cataracts. The object of our fearch Beneath us lay, the lecret pafs to Greece, Where not five warriors in a rank can tread. We thence defcended to the Phocian camp, Befet with fcatter'd oaks, which rofe and fpread In height and fhade ; on whofe fuftaining boughs Were hung in fnowy folds a thoufand tents, Containing each a Phocian heavy-mail'd, With two light-weapon'd menials. Northward

ends

The vale, contracted to that narrow {freight, Which firft we faw with Mycon. Prudent care Like yours alleviates mine, well pleas'd the king Reply'd. Now, Agis, from Arcadia's bands Select a thoufand fpcars. To them unite The Thefpians and Plataeans. Draw their lines Beneath the wall, which fortifies the pafs. There, clofc embody'd, will their might repulfe The num'rous foe. Demophilus falute. Approved in martial fervice him I name The chief fupreme. Obedient to his will Th' appointed warriors, ifluing from the tents, Fill their deep files, and watch the high command. Sfi round their monarch, in his ftormy hall. The winds aflemble. From his dulky throne His dreadful mandates ^olus proclaims To fwell the main, or heav'n with clouds deform, Or bend the forcft from the mountain's brow. Laconia's leader from the rampart's height To battle thus the lift'ning holt inflames.

This day, O Grecians, countrymen, and friends, Your wives, your offspring, your paternal feats, Your parents, country, liberty, and laws, Demand your fwords. You gen'rous, active, brave, Vers'd in the various difcipline of Mars, Are now to grapple with ignoble foes In war untkilful, nature's bafeft drofs, And thence a monarch's mercenary flaves. Relax'd their limbs, their fpirits are deprav'd By eaftern floth and pleafures. Hire their caufe, Their only fruit of victory is fpoil. They know not freedom, nor its lib'ral cares. Such is the flow'r of Afia's hoft. The reft, Who fill her boafted numbers, are a crowd, Forc'd from their homes ; a populace in peace By jealous tyranny difarm'd, in war Their tyrant's victims. Taught in paffive grief To bear the rapine, cruelty, and fpurns Of Xerxes' mercenary band, they pine In fervitudc to (laves. With terror founds The trumpet's clangaur in their trembling ear.*. Unwonted loads, the buckler and the lance Their hands fuftain, encumber'd, and prefent

LEONIDAS.

The mockery of war. But ev'ry eye

5-7

Shoots forth impatient flames. Your gallant breads Too long their fwelling fpirit have confin'd.

o then, ye fons of liberty ; go, fweep Thefe bondmen from the field. Refiftlefs rend The glitt'ring ftandard from their fervile grafp. Hurl to the ground their ignominious heads, The warrior's helm profaning. Think, the ihades Of your forefathers lift their facred brows, Here to enjoy the glory of their fons.

He fpake. Loud paeans ifluc from the Greeks. In fierce reply barbarian fliouts afcend From hoftile nations, thronging down the pafs. Such is the roar of ./Etna, when his mouth Difplodes combuftion from his fulph'rous depths. To blaft the fmiles of nature. Dauntlefs ftood. In deep array before the Phocian wall The phalanx, wedgM with implicated fhields. And fpears protended, like the graceful range Of arduous elms, whofe interwoven boughs Before fome rural palace, wide expand, Their venerable umbrage to retard The north's impetuous wing. As o'er the main. In lucid rows, the rifing waves reflect The fun's effulgence ; fo the Grecian helms Return'd his light, which o'er their convex pour*d A fplendour, fcatter'd through the dancing plumes.

Down rum the foes. Exulting in their van, Their haughty leader fliakes his threat'ning lance, Provoking battle. Infftnt from his rank Diomedon buHLs furious. On he ftrides, Confronts Tigranes, whom he thus defies.

Now art thou met, barbarian. Wouldft thou

prove

Thy actions equal to thy vaunts, command Thy troops to halt, while thou and I engage.

Tigranes, turning to the Perfians, fpake. My friends and loldiers, check jour martial hrfte, While my ftrong lance that Grecian's pride con founds.

. He ceas'd. In dreadful oppofition foon Each combatant advanc'd. Their finewy hands Grip'd fall their fpears, high brandifli'd. Thrice

they drove,

With well directed force, the pointed fteel At either's throat, and thrice their wary fhields Repell'd the menac'd wound. The Afian chief At length, with pow'rs collected for the ftroke, His weapon rivets in the Grecian targe. Afide Diomedon inclines, and ihuns Approaching fate ; then all his martial (kill Undaunted fummons. His forfaken fpear Befide him caft, his faulchion he unmeaths. The blade, defcending on Tigranes' arm, That inftant ftruggling to redeem his lance, The nervous hand diflevers. Pale affright Unmans the Perfian ; while his active foe Full on his neck difcharg'd the rapid fword, Which open'd wide the purple gates of death. Low finks Tigranes in eternal fhade. His proftrate limbs the conqueror beftrides; Then in a tuft of blood-diftilling hair His hand entwining, from the mangled trunk The head disjoins, and whirls with matchlefs

ftrength

Among the adverfe legions. All in dread j Recoil'd, where'er the ghaftly vifage flew

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

50*

In fanguine circles, and purfu'd its track Of horror through the air. Not more amaz'd, A barb 'rous nation, whom the cheerful dawn ' Of fcience ne'er illumin'd, view on high A meteor, waving its portentous fires; "Where oft, as fuperftition vainly dreams, Some demon fits amid the baneful blaze, Difperfing plague and defolation round. Awhile the ftern Dioniedon remain 'd Triumphant o'er the dire difmay, which froze The heart of Perfia ; then with haughty pace In fallen joy among his gladfome friends Refum'd his ftation. Still the hoflile throng In confirmation motionlefs iufpend The charge. Their drooping hearts Phraortes warms.

Heav'n ! can one leader's fate appal this hoft, Which counts a train of princes for its chiefs ? Behold Phraortes. From Niphates' ridge 1 draw my fubject files. My hardy toil Through pathlefs woods and deferts hath explor'd The tiger's cavern. This unconquer'd hand Hath from the lion rent his ihaggy hide. So through this field of flaughter will I chafe Yon vaunting Greek. His ardent words revive Declining valour in the van. His lance Then in the rear he brandies. The crowd Before his threat'ning ire, affrighted, roll Their numbers headlong on the Grecian fteel. Thus with his trident pceaji's angry god From their vail bottom turns the mighty mafs Of waters upward, and overwhelms the beach.

Tremendous frown'd the fierce Plataean chie'f Full in the battle's front. His ample fhield Like a ftrong bulwark prominent he rais'd Before the line. There thunder'd all the ftorrn Of darts and arrows. His undaunted train In emulating ardour charg'd the foe. Where'er they turn'd the formidable fpears, Which drench'd the glebe of Marathon in blood, Barbarian dead lay heap'd. Diomedon Led on the flaughter. From his nodding creft The fable plumes {hook terror. Afia's holt Shrunk back, as blafled by the piercing be;ims Of that unconquerable fword, which fell With lightning's fwiftnefs on diffever'd helms, And, menacing Tigranes' doom to all, Their multitude difpers'd. The furious chief, Encompafs'd round by carnage, and befmear'd With fanguine drops, enflames his warlike friends

O Dithyrambus, let thy deeds this day Surmount their wonted luilre. Thou in arms, Demophilus, worn gray, thy youth recal. Behold, thcfe flavcs without refiflance bleed. Advance, my hoary friend. Propitious fame Smiles on thy years. She grants thy aged hand To pluck frelh laurels for thy honoured brow.

As, when endu'd with Promethean heat, The molten clay refpir'd ; a fudden warmth Glows in the venerable Thefpian's veins ; In ev'ry finew new-born vigour fwells. His falchion, thund'ring on Cherafines' helm, The forehead cleaves. Ecbatana to war Sent forth Cherafmes. From her potent gates He proud in hope her fwarming numbers led. Him Ariazus and Peuceftes join'd, His martial brothers. They attend his fate, By Dithyrambus pierc'd. Their hoary fire

Shall o'er his folitary palace roam ; Lamenting loud his childlefs years, fhall curffi Ambition's fury, and the luit of war, Then, pining, bow in anguiih to the grave, Next by the fierce Plaiaean's fatal f word F>xpir'd Damates, once the hofl and friend Of fall'n Tigranes. By his fide to fight He left his native bands. Of Syrian birth In Daphne he redded near the grove, Whofe hofpitable laurels in their {hade Conceal'cl the virgin fugitive averfe To young Apollo. Hither (he retir'd Far from her parent ftreatn. Here fables feign, Herfelf a laurel chang d her gclden hair To verdant leaves in this retreat, the grove Of Daphne call'd, the feat of rural blifs, Fann'd by the breath of zephyrs, and with rills From bubbling founts irriguous, Syria's boaft, The happy rival of Theffalia's vale, Now hid for ever from Damates' eyes.

Demophilus, wife leader, foon improves Advantage. All the vet'rans of his troop, In age his equals, to condenfe the files, To rivet dole their bucklers he commands. As fome broad vefiel, heavy in her flrength, But well-compacted, when a fav'ring gale Invites the ikilful mafter to expand The fails at large, her flow but fteady courfe Impels through myriads of dividing waves; So, unrefifted, through Barbarian throngs The hoary phalanx pafs'd. Arcadia's fons Purfu'd more fwift. Gigantic Clonius prefs'd The yielding Perfians, who before him funk, Crufti'd like vile ftubble underneath the ftepa Of fome glad peafant, vifiting his fields Of new-fhorn harveft. On the gen'ral rout Phraortes look'd intrepid ft ill. He fprang O'er bills of carnage to confront the foe. His own inglorious friends he thus reproach'd.

Fly then, ye cowards, and defert your chief. Yet fmgle here my target fhall opppfe The fhock of thoufands. Raging, he impels His deathful point through Ariflander's breaft. Him Dithyrambus lov'd. A facred bard, Rever'd for juftice, for his vcrfe renown'd, He lung the deeds of heroes, thofe who fell,- Or thofe who conquer'd in their coustry's caufe, Th' enraptur'd foul infpiring with the love Of giory, earn'd by virtue. His high ftrain The mufts favour'd from their neighb'rfng bow*r> s And blefs'd with heav'nly melody his lyre. No more from Thefpia fliall hi* feet aftend The fhady fteep of Helicon ; no more The ftrearn divine of Aganippe's fount Bedew his lip harmonious : nor his hands, Which, dying, grain the unforfaken lance, And proftrate buckler, evermore accord His lofty numbers to the founding {hell. Lo ! Dithyrambus weeps. Amid the rage Of war and conqueft fwiftly-gufhing tears Find one fad moment's interval to fall On his pale friend. But foon the victor proves His ftern revenge. Through fhield and corfele 4 :

plung'd,

His forcefol blade divides the Perfian's cheft; Whence uTue ftreams of royal blood, deriv'd From anceftors, who fway'd in Ninus old Th' AfTyrian fceptre. He to Xerxes' throne

L E O N I D A S.

509

A tributary fatrap rul'd the vnles, Where Tigris fwift between the parted h:\ls Of tallNiphatcs drew his foamy tide, Impregnating the nv;ads. 1'hraortes links, Not inilantly expiring. Still his eyes Flafh indignation, while the Perfians fly.

Beyond the Malian entrance of the.ftrn'ghts Th' Arcadians rufli ; when, unperceiv'd till felt, .Spring from concealment in a thicket deep New fwarms of warriors, clufl'ring on the flank Of thefe unwary Grecians. Tow'rds the bay They fhrink ; they totter on the fearful edge, Which overhangs a precipice. Surpris'd, The ftrength of Clonius fails. His giant bulk Beneath rhe chieftain of th' afiailing band Falls prcftrate. Thefpians and Placzeans wave Auxiliar enligns. They encounter foes, Refembling Greeks in difcipline and arms. Dire is the fhock. What lefs, than Caria's queen In their career of vidory could check Such warriors ? Fierce ihe ftruggles ; while the

rout

Of Medes and Ciflians carry to the camp Contagious terror ; thence no fuccour flows. Demophilus fbnds firm ; the Carian band At length recoil before him. Keen purfuit He leaves to others, like th' almighty fire, Who fits unfhaken on his throne, while floods. His inftruments of wrath, o'crwhclm the earth, And whirlwinds level on her hills the growth Of proudeft cedars. Through the yielding cro~wd Plataea's chief and Dithyrambus range Triumphant fide by fide. Thus o'er the field, Where bright Alpheus heard the rattling car, And concave hoof along his echoing banks, Two gen'rous couriers, Hnk'd in mutual reins, In fpeed, in ardour equal, beat the duft, To reach the glories of Olympia's goal. Th' intrepid heroes on the plain advance, They prefs the Carian rear. Not long the queen Endures that fhame. Her people's dying groans Tranfpierce her bofom. On their bleeding limbs She looks maternal, feels maternal pangs. A troop ihe rallies. Goddefs-like fhe turns, Not lefs than Pallas with her Gorgon ihield. Whole ranks flie covers, like th' imperial bird Extending o'er a neft of callow young Her pinion broad, and pointing fierce her beak, Her claws outllretch'd. The Thefpian's ardent

hand,

From common lives refraining, haftes to fnatch More fplendid laurels from that nobler head. His pond'rous falchion, fwift dcfcending, bears Her buckler down, thence glancing, cuts the thong, Which holds her headpiece faft. That golden fence Drops down. Thick treffes, unconfm'd, difclofe A female warrior ; one whofe fummer pride Of fleeting beauty had begun to fade, Yet by th' heroic character fupply'd, Which grew more awful, as the touch of time Hemov'd the foft'ning graces. Back he Heps, Unmann'd by wonder. With indignant eyes, Fire-darting, fhe advances. Both her hands Full on his creft difcharge the furious blade. The forceful blow compels him to recede Yet further back, unwounded, though confus'd. His foldiers flock around him. From a fcene Of bleed more diilant fpeeds Plata's chief.

Tlie fair occafion of fufpended fight She feizes, bright in glory wheels away, A'.d faves her Carian remnant ; while his friend In fervent founds Dicmedoa bcfpake.

If thou art flain, I curfc this glorious day. Be all thy trophies, be my own accurs'd.

The youth, recover'd, anfwers in a fmile. I am unhurt. The weighty blow proclaim'd The queen of Caria, or Bellona's arm. Our longer ftay Demophilus may blame. Let us prevent his call. This faid, their fteps They turn, both ftriding through empurpled heaps Of arms, and mangled flain, themfelves with gore Diftain'd,like two grijn tigers, who have forc'd A nightly manfion, on the defert rais'd By fome lone-wand'ring traveller, then dy'd In human crimfon, through the foreft deep Back to their covert's dreary gloom retire.

Stern Artemifia, fweeping o'er the field, Burfts into Afia's camp. A furious look She cafts around. Abrocomes remote With Hypcranthes from the king were fent. She fees Argeftes in that quarter chief, Who from battalions numberlefs had fpar'd Not one to fuccour, but his malice gorg'd With her diflrefs. Her anger now augments. Revenge frowns gloomy on her darken'd brow* He cautious moves to Xerxes, where he fat High en his car. She follows. Loft her helm, Refign'd to fportive winds her clufter'd locks, Wild, but majeftic like the waving boughs Of fome proud elm, the glory of the grove, And full in foliage. Her emblazon'd ihield With gore is tarnifh'd. Pale around are feen All faint, all ghaftly from repeated wounds Her bleeding foldiers. Brandifhing her fword, To them fhe points, to Xerxes thus fhe fpeaks.

Behold thefe mangled Carians, who have fpent Their vital current in the king's defence, F.v'n in his fight ; while Medes and Ciflians fled, By thefe protected, whom Argelles faw Purfu'd by flaughter to thy very camp, Yet left unhelp'd to periih. Ruling fire, Let Horomazes be thy name, or Jove, To thee appealing, of the king I claim A day for jufticc. Monarch, to my arm Give him a prey. Let Artemifia's truth Chaflife his treafon. With an eye fubmifs, A mien oblequious, and a foothing tone To cheat the king, to moderate her ire Argeftes utters thefe fallacious words.

May Horomazes leave the fiend at large To blaft my earthly happinefs, confine Amid the horrors of his own abode My ghoft hereafter, if the facred charge Of Xerxes* perfon was not my reftraint, My fole rellraint ! To him our all is due, Our all how trifling, with his fafety weigh' d. His prefervation I prefer to fame, And bright occafion for immortal deeds Forego in duty. Elfe my helpful fword, Fair heroine of Afia, hadft thou feen Among the foretnoft blazing. Lo ! the king A royal prefent will on thee beftow, Perfumes and precious unguents on the dead, A golden wreath to each furvivor brave.

Aw'd by her fpirit, by the flatt'rers fpell Deluded, languid through diibiay and ihanjc

510 THE WORKS

At hU defeat, the monarch for a time

Sat mute, at length unlock'd his falt'ring lips.

Thou hear'ft, great princefs. Reft content. His

words

I ratify. Yet. farther, I proclaim Thee of my train firft counfellor and chief.

O eagle-ey'd difcernment in the king ! O wifdom equal to his houndlefs power ! The purpled fycophant exclaims. Thou feeft Her matchlefs talents. Wanting her, thy fleet, The floating bulwark of our hopes, laments, Foil'd in her abfence, in her conduct fafe. Thy penetrating fight dirje&s the field ; There let her worth be hazarded no more.

Thy words are wife, the blinded prince rejoins. Return, brave Carian, to thy naval charge.

Thus to remove her from the royal ear Malicious guile prevails. Redoubled rage Swells in her bofom. Demaratus fees And calms the ftorm by rend'ring up his charge To her maternal hand. Her fon belov'd Difpels the furies. Then the Spartan thus :

O Artemifia, of the king's command Be thou obfcrvant. To thy flaughter'd friends Immediate care, far other than revenge, Is due. The ravens gather. From his neft Among thofe clifts the eagle's rapid flight Denotes his fcent of carnage. Thou, a Greek, "Weil know'il the duty facred to the dead. Depart; thy guide is piety. Collect, For honourable fepulchres prepare Thofe bodies, mark'd with honourable wounds. I will aflift thee. Xerxes will intruft To my command a chofen guard of horfe.

As oft, when ftorms in-fummer have o'ercaft The night with double darknefs, only pierc'd By heav'n's blue fire, while thunder fliakes the

pole,

The orient fun, diffufing genial warmth, Refines the troubled air; the blaft is mute; Death-pointed flames difperfe ; and placid Jove Looks down in fmiles: fo prudence from the lips Of Demaratus, by his tone, his mien, His afpect ftrength'ning fmooth perfuafion's flow, Compos' d her fpirit. She with him departs. The king afligns a thoufand horfe to guard Th' illufhrious exile, and heroic dame.

BOOK VI.

THE ARGUMENT.

THE Grecian commanders, after the purfuit, retire for refrefliment to a cave in the fide of mount Oeta. Demophilus returns to the camp ; Dio- medon remains in the cave ; while Dithyram- bus, difcovering a paflage through it, afcends to the temple of the mufes. After a long difcourfe with MelifTa, the daughter of Oileus, fhe intrufts him with a iblemn meiTage to Leonidas. Dithy rambus deputes this charge to Megiftias, the au gur. Leonidas, recalling the forces, firfl engag ed, fends down a frefh body. Diomedon and Dithyrambus are permitted, on their own re- queft, to continue in the field with the Platie- ans. By the advice of Diomedon, the Grecians advance to the broadeft part of Thermopylae, where they form a line of twenty in depth, con- fifting of the PJataas, Mamineans, Tegsans,

OF GLOVER.

Thebans, Corinthians, Phliafians, and Myce- nxans. The Spartans compofe a fecond line in a narrower part. Behind them are placed the light armed troops under Alpheus, and further back a phalanx of Locrians under Medon, the fon of Oileus. Dieneces commands the whole,

No \y Dithyrambus and Plataea's chief, Their former poft attaining, had rejoin'd Demophilus. Recumbent on his fhield Phraortes, gafping there, attracts their fight, To him in pity Thefpia's gallant youth Approaching, thus his gen'rous foul exprefs'd.

Liv'ft thou, brave Perfian ? By propitious Jove, From whom the pleafing ftream of mercy flows Through mortal bofoms, lefs my foul rejoic'd, When fortune blefs'd with victory my arm, Than now to raife thee from this field of death.

His languid eyes the dying prince unclos'd, Then with expiring voice. Vain man, forbear To proffer me, what foon thyfelf muft crave. The day is quite extinguifti'd in thefe orbs. One moment fate allows me te difdain Thy mercy, Grecian. Now I yield to death.

This effort made, the haughty fpirit fled. So {hoots a meteor's tranfitory gleam Through nitrous folds of black nocturnal clouds, Then diflipates for ever. O'er the corfc His rev'rend face Demophilus inclin'd, Pois'd on his lance, and thus addrefs'd the flain.

Alas ! how glorious were that bleeding breaft, Had juftice brac'd the buckler on thy arm, And to preferve a people bade thee die. Who now fhall mourn thee ! Thy ungrateful king Will foon forget thy worth. Thy native land May raife an empty monument, but feel No public jrrow. Thy recorded name Shall wake among thy countrymen no fighs For their loft hero. What to them avail'd Thy might, thy dauntlefs fpirit ? Not to guard Their wives, their offspring from th' oppreffor's

hand ;

But to extend opprefllon didft thou fall, Perhaps with inborn virtues in thy foul, Which, but thy froward deftiny forbade, By freedom cherifh'd, might have blefs'd mankind. All-bounteous nature, thy impartial laws To no felected race of men confine The fenfe of glory, fortitude, and all The nobler paflions, which exalt the mind, And render life illuftrious. Thefe thou plant'ft In ev'ry foil. But freedom like the fun Muft warm the gen'rous feeds. By her alone They bloom, they flourifh ; while opprefllon blafts The tender virtues : hence a fpurious growth, Falfe honour, favage valour taint the foul, And wild ambition : hence rapacious pow'r. The ravag'd earth unpeoples, and the brave, A feaft for dogs, th' enfanguin'd field beilrew.

He faid. Around the venerable man The warriors throng' d attentive. Conqueft hufh'd Its joyful tranfports. O'er the horrid field, Rude fcene fo late of tumult, all was calm. So, when the fong of Thracian Orpheus drew To Hebrus' margin from their dreary feats The favage breed, which Hjemus, wrapp'd in clouds,

ngjEiis cold, and Rhodopean fnows In blood and diicord nurs'd, the foothing flrain

a

L E O N I D A S.

51*

Flow'd with enchantment through the ravifli'd ear, Their fiercenefs melted, and, amaz'd, they learn'd The facred laws of juftice, which tlie bard Mix'd with the mufic of his heavenly firing.

Meantime th' Arcadians with inverted arms And banners, fad and folemn on their fhields The giant limhs of Clonius bore along To fpread a gen'ral woe. The noble corfe, Dire fpectacle of carnage, paffing by To thofe laft honours, which the dead partake, Struck Dithyrambus. Swift his melted eye Review'd Phraortes on the rock fupine ; Then on the fage Demophilus he look'd Intent, and fpake. My heart retains thy words. This hour may witnefs how rapacious pow'r The earth unpeoples. Clonius is no more. But he, by Greece lamented, will acquire A fignal tomb. This gallant Perfian, crufh'd Beneath my fortune, bath'd in blood flill warm, May lie forgotten by hi c thanklefs king ; Yet not by me neglected {hall remain A naked corfe. The good old man replies.

My gen'rous child, dcfecving that iuccefs Thy arm hath gain'd ! When vital breath is fled, Our friends, our foes are equal duft. Both claim The fun'ral psflage to that, future feat Of being, where no enmity revives. There Greek and Perfian will together quaff In amaranthine bow'rs the cup of blifs Immortal. Him thy valour flew en earth, In that blefs'd region thou rnny'ft find a friend.

This faid, the ready Thefpians he commands To lift Phraortes from his bed of death, Th' empurpled rock. Outflretch'd on targets

broad,

Suftain'd by hands late hoftile, now humane, He follows Clonius to the fun'ral pyre.

A cave not diftant from the Phocian wall Through Oeta's cloven fide had nature form'd In fpacious windings. This in mofs fhe clad ; O'er half the entrance downward from the roots She hung the fliaggy trunks of branching firs, To heav'n's hot ray impervious. Near the mouth Relucent laurels fpread before the fun A broad and vivid foliage. High above, The hill was darken'd by a folemn fhade, Diffus'd from ancient cedars. To this cave Diomedon, Demophilas refort, And Thefpia's youth. A deep recefs appears, Cool as the azure' grot, where Thetis fleeps Beneath the vaulted ocean. Whifper'd founds Of waters, trilling from the riven ftone To feed a fountain on the rocky floor, In pureft ftreams o'erflowing to the fea, Allure the warriors hot with toil and third To this retreat ferene. Againft the fides Their difencumber'd hands repole their fhields ; The helms they loofen from their glowing cheeks ; Propp'd on their fpcars, they reft : when Agis

brings From Lacedemon's leader thefe commands.

JLeonidas recals you from your toils,

' Ye meritorious Grecians. You have reap'd

fe The firft bright harveft On the field of fame.

Our eyes in wonder from the Phocian wall

On your unequall'd deeds incefiant gaz'd.

To whom PLtaea's chief. Go, Agis, fay To Lacedemon's ruler, that, untir'd,

Diomedon can yet exalt his fpear, Nor feels the armour heavy on his limbs. Then fhall I quit the conteft ? Ere he finks, Shall not this early fun again behold The flaves of Xerxes tremble at my lance Should they adventure on a frefh aflault ?

To him the Thefpian youth. My friend, my

guide

To noble actions, fince thy gen'rous heart Intent on fame difdains to reft, O grant I too thy glorious labours may partake, May learn once more to imitate thy deeds. Thou, gentleft Agis, Sparta's king entreat Not to command us from the field of war.

Yes, perfevering heroes, he reply'd, I will return, will Sparta's king entreat Not to command you from the field of war.

Then intcrpos'd Demophilus. O friend, Who lead'ft to conqueft brave Platxa's fons ; Thou too, lov'd offbpring of the cleared man, Who doft reftore a brother to ray eyes ; My foul your magnanimity applauds : But, O reflect, that unabating toil Subdues the mightieft. Valour will repine, When the weak hand obeys the heart no more. Yet I, declining through the weight of years, Will not aflign a meaiure to your ftrength. If ftill you find your vigour undecay'd, Stay and augment your glory. So, when time Cafts from your whiten'd heads the helm afidc ; When in the temples your enfeebled arms Have hung their confecrated fhields, the land, Which gave you life, in her detence employ'd, Shall then by honours, doubled on your age, Bequit the gen'rous labours of your prime.

So fpake the fenior, and forfook the cave. But from the fount Diomedon receives Th' o'erflowing waters in his concave helm, Addrefling thus the genius of the ftream.

Whoe'er thou art, divinity unftain'd Of this fair fountain, till unfparing Mars Heap'd carnage round thee, bounteous are thy

ftreams

To me, who ill repay thee. I again Thy filver-gleaming current muft pollute, Which, mix'd with gore, fhall tinge the Malian flime.

He faid, and lifted in his brimming cafque The bright, refreshing moifture. Thus repairs The fpotted panther to Hydafpes' fide, Or eaftern Indus, feafted on the blood Of fome torn deer, which nigh his cruel grafp Had roam'd unheeding in the fecret fliade ; Rapacious o'er the humid brink he ftoops, And in the pure and fluid cryftal cools His reeking jaws. Meantime the Ttefpian's eye Roves round the vaulted fpace ; when fudden

founds

Of mufic, utter'd by melodious harps, And melting voices, diftant, but in tones By diftance foften'd, while the echoes figh'd In lulling replication, fill the vault With harmony. In admiration mute, With nerves unbrac'd by rapture, he, entranc'd, Stands like an eagle, when his parcing plumes The balm of deep relaxes, and his wings Fall from his languid fide. Platjea's chief, Obferving, rous'd the warrior. .Son of Mars,

THE WORKS OF GLOVER,

Shall mufic's foftnefs from thy bofom (leal The fenfe of glory ? From his neighboring camp Perhaps the Perfian fends frefh nations down. Soon in bright fteei Thermopylae will blaze. Awake. Accuftom'd to the clang of arms, Intent on vengeance for invaded Greece, My ear, my fpirit in this hour admit No new fenfation, nor a change of thought.

The Thefpian, ftarting from oblivious floth Of ravifhment and wonder, quick reply *d.

Thefe founds were more than human. Hark !

Again !

O honour'd friend, no adverfe banner ftreams In fight. No fhout proclaims the Perfian freed From his late terror. Deeper let us plunge In this myfterious dwelling of the nymphs, Whofe voices charm its gloom. In fmiles re-

join'd

Diomedon. I fee thy foul enthrall'd. Me thou would'ft rank among th' unletter'd rout Of yon barbarians, fliould I prefs thy Hay. Time favours too. Till Agis be returned, We cannot aft. Indulge thy eager fearch. Here will I wait, a centinel unmov'd, To watch thy coming. In exploring hafte Th' impatient Thefpian penetrates the cave. He finds it bounded by a fteep afcent Of rugged fteps ; where down the hollow rock A modulation clear, diftincl and flow In movement folemn from a lyric firing, Diflolves the ftagnant air to fweet accord With thefe fonorous lays. Ctleftial maids ! While, from our cliffs contemplating the war, We celebrate our heroes, O impart Orphean magic tn the pious (train ! That from the mountain we may call the groves, Swift motion through thefe marble fragments

breathe

To overleap the high Oetaean ridge, And crbifh the fell invaders of our peace.

The animated hero upward fprings Light, as a kindled vajxmr, which, confiu'd In fubterranean cavities, at length Pervading, rives the furface to enlarge The long-imprifori'd flame. Afcending foon, He fees, he (lands abafh'd, then rev'rend kneels.

An aged temple with infculptur'd forms Of Jove's harmonious daughters, and a train Of nine bright virgins, round their priefcefs rang'd, Who flood in awtul majefty, receive Kis unexpected feet. The long is huuYd. The meafur'd movement on the lyric chord In faint vibration dies. The prieftefs fage, Whole elevated port and aipedt rofe To more, than mortal dignity, her lyre Gorifigning graceful to attendant hands, Looks with reproof. The loofe, uucover'd hair Shades his inclining forehead, while a flufh Of modeft crimfon dyes his youthful cheek. Her penfive vifage foftens to a fmile On worth fo blooming, which fhe thus accofts.

I ftiould reprove thee, inadvertent youth, Who through the fole accefs, by nature left To this pure manfion, with intruding fteps Doft interrupt our lays. But rife. Thy fword Perhaps embellifli'd that triumphant fcene, \YhJch wak'd thefe harps to celebrating notes.

What is the imprefs on thy warlike ftiield" ?

A golden eagle on my ihield I bear, Still bending low, he aufwers. She purfues.

Art thou polVeffbr of that glorious orb, By me diftinguifli'd in the late defeat Of Afia, drives before thee ? Speak thy name, Who is thy fire ? Where lies thy native feat ? Com'ft thou for glory to this fatal fpot, Or frarn barbarian violence to guard A parent's age, a fpoufe, and tender babe?, Who call thee father? Humbly he again.

I am of Thefpia, Dithyrambus nam'd, The fon of Harmatides. Snatch'd by fate, He to his brother, and my fecond fire, Demophilus, confign'd me. Thefpia's fons By him are led. His dictates I obey, Him to referable ftrive. No infant voice Calls me a father. To the nuptial vow I am a ftranger, and among the Greeks The leaft entitled to thy partial praife.

None, more entitled, iriterpos'd the dame. Deferving hero, thy demeanour fpeaks, It. juftifies the fame, fo widely fpread, Of Harmatides' heir. O grace arid ptide Of that fair city, which the mufes love, Thee an acceptant vifitant I hail In this their ancient temple. Thou malt view Their facred haunts. Defcending from the dome, She thus purfues. Firll know, my youthful hours' Were exercis'd in knowledge. Homer's mufe To daily meditation won my foul, With my young fpirit mix'd undying fparks Of her own rapture. By a father fage Conducted, cities, manners, men I law, Their inftitutes and cuftoms. I return'd. The voice of Locris call'd me to fuftaih The holy fundlion here. Now throw thy fight Acrufs that meadow, whofe eriliven'd blades Wave in the breeze, and gliften iut the fun Behind the hoary fane- My bleating train Are nourifh'd there, a fpot of plenty fpar'd, From this furrounding wildernefs. Remark That fluid mirror, edg'd by fhrubs and flow'rs, Shrubs of my culture, flow'rs by Iris drefs'd. Nor pafs that fmiling concave on the hill, Whofe pointed crag 1 ? are foften'd to the fight By figs and grapes. She paufes ; while around His eye, delighted, roves in more delight Soon to the fpot returning, where file flood A deity in femblance, o'er the place Prefiding awful, as Minerva wife, Auguft like Juno, like Diana pure, But not more pure than fair. The beauteous

lake,

The pines wide-branching, falls of water clear, The multifarious glow ou Flora's lap Lofe all attraction, as her gracious lips Refume their tale. In folitude remote Here I have dwelt contemplative, ferene, Oft through the rocks refponfive to my lyre, Oft to th' Amphi&yons in afl'embly full, When at this flirine their annual vows they pay, In meafur'u declamation I repeat The praife of Greece, her liberty and laws. From me the hinds, who tend their wand'ring

goats In thefe rude purlieus, modulate their pipes

L E O N I D A S.

5*3

To fmoother cadence, Juftice from my tongue Diflentions calms, which ev'n in deferts rend Th' unquiet heart of man. Now furious war My careful thoughts engages, which delight To he;p the free, th'-oppreffbr to confound. Thy feet aufpicious fortune hither brings. In thee a noble meffenger I find. Go, in thefe words Leonidas addrefs. " Melifla, prieitefs cf the tuneful nine, " By their behefts invites thy honour'd feet " To her divine abode. Thee, firft of Greeks,
 * ' To conference of high import flie calls."

Th' obedient Thefpian down the holy cave Returns. His fwiftnefs fuddenly prevents His friend's impatience, who falutes him thus.

Let thy adventure be hereafter told. Look yonder. Frefh battalions from the camp File through the Phocian barrier, to cotidruct Another phalanx, moving tow'r of war, Which fcorns the ftrength of Alia. Let us arm ; That, ready ftation'd in the glorious van, We may fecure permiffion from the king There to continue, and renew tjie fight.

That inftant brings Megiftias near the grot. To Sparta's phalanx his paternal hand Was leading Menalippus. Not unheard By Dithyrambus in their flow approach, The father warns a young and lib ral mind.

Sprung from a diitant boundary of Greece, A foreigner in Sparta, cherifli'd there, Inftructed, honour'd, nor unworthy held To fight for Lacedcmon in her line Of difcipline and valour, lo ! my fen, The hour is come to prove thy gen'rous heart : That in thy hand, not ill-intrulted, fhme The fpear and buckler to maintain the caufe Of thy protectrefs. Let thy mind recal Leonidas. On yonder bulwark plac'd, He overlooks the battle ; he difcerns The bold and. fearful. May the gods I ferve, Grant me to hear Leonidas approve My fon ! No other boon my age implores.

The augur paus'd. The animated cheek Of Menalippus glows. His eager look Demands the fight. This llruck the tender fire, Who then with moiften'd eyes. Remember

too,

A father fees thy danger. Oh ! my child, To me thy honour, as to thee is dear ; Yet court not death. By av'ry filial tie, By all my fondnefs, all my cares I fue '. Amid the conflict, or the warm pursuit, Still by the wife Dieneces abide. His prudent valour knows th* unerring paths Of glory. He admits thee to his fide. He will diredl thy ardour. Go They part.

Megiftias, turning, is accofted thus By Dithyrambus. Venerable feer, So may that fon, whufe merit I efteem, Whofe precious head in peril I would die To guard, return in triumph to thy.breaft, As thou deliver'ft to Laconia's king A hi^h and folemn meflage. While anew The line is forming, from th' embattled field. I muft not ftray, uncall'd. A facred charge Through hallow'd lips will belt Approach the

king. VOL. XI.

The Acarnanian in fufpenfe remains And filence. Dithyrambus quick relates Meliffa's words, describes the holy grot, Then quit? th' inftrudled augur, and attends Diomedon's loud call. That fervid chief Was rearTuraing his diftinguifli'd arms, Which, as a fpiendid recompenfe, he bore From grateful Athens, for achievements bold j When he with brave Miltiades redeem'd Her domes from Afian flames. The fculptur'd

helm

Enclos'd his manly temples.- From on high A four-fold plumage nodded ; while beneath A golden dragon with eft'ulgent fcales, Itfelf the err tt, fliot terror. On his arm He brac'd his buckler. Bord'ring on the rim, Gorgonian ferpents twin'd. Within, the form, Of Pallas, martial goddefs, was embofs'd. Low, as her feet, the graceful tunic flow'd. Betwixt two griffins on her helmet fat A fphynx with wings expanded ; while the face

i Of dire Medufa on her breaftplate frown'd.

j One hand fupports a javelin, which confounds The pride of kings. The other leads along A blooming virgin, Viclory, whole brow A wreath tncirles. Laurels flie prefents; But from her flioulders all her plumes were fliorn, In favour'd Athens ever now to rett. This dread cf Alia on his mighty arm Diomedon uprear'd. He match'd his lance, Then fpake to Dithyrarabus. See my friend, Alone of all the Grecians, who fuftain'd The former onfct, inexhaufted ftand Plataea's ions. They well may keep the field, Who with unflaken'd nerves enc!',tr'd that day. Which law ten myriads of Barbarians dnv'u Back to their fliips, and Athens left fecure. Charge in our line. Amid the foremoi: rank 'I hy valour lLall be plac'd to ihare command, And ev'ry honour with Platjea's chief.

He faid no more, but tovv'rds the Grecian van Impetuous, aidant firode. Nor flow behind The pride of 'ihcfp;a, Dithyrambus mov'd Like youthful Hermes in celeltial arms; When lightly graceful with his feather'd feet Aiung Scamander's flow'ry verge he pals'd To aid th' mccns'd divinities of Greece Agamlt the Phrygian tow'rs-. Their eager hafte. Soon brings the heroes to tb' embattling ranks, Whom thus the brave Diomedon exhorts.

Not to contend, but vanquifli are ye come. Here in the blcod of fugitives your fpears Shall unoppos'd, be rtain'd. My valiant friends, But chief, ye men of Sparta, view that fpace, Where from the Malian gulf more diftantrife, Th' Oetaean rocks, and lels confine the ftfeights. There if we range, extending our wide front, An ampler fcope to havoc will be giv'o.

To him Dieneces. Platcean friend, Well doft thou counfei. On that widening

ground

Clofe to the mountain place thy vet'ran files. Proportion'd numbers from thy right fliall itretcb. Quite to the fliore in phalanx deep like thine. The Spartans wedg'd in this contracted part Will I contain. Behind me Alpheus waits * With lighter -bodies. Further back the Uii Kfc

5*4

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Of Locris forms a ftrong referve. He faid. The diff'rent bands, confiding in his fkill, Move on fucceflive. The Plataeans firft Againft the hill are ftation'd. In their van Dithyrambus rank'd. Triumphant joy Diftends their bolbms, fparkles in their eyes.

Blefs'd be the great Diomcdon, they (hout, Who brings another hero to our line. Hail ! Dithyrambus. Hail 1 illuftrious youth. Had tender age permitted, thou hadft gain'd An early palm at Marathon. His poit He takes. His gladnefs bluflies on his cheek Amid the foremoft rank. Around him crowd The long-try'd warriors. Their unnumber'd fears Difcovermg, they in ample phrafe recount Their various dangers. He their wounds furveys In veneration, nor difdains to hear The oft -repeated tale. From (Sparta's king Retunvd, the gracious Agis thefe addrefs'd.

Leonid as falutes Plataea's chief And Dithyrambus. To your fwords he grants A further effort with Plataea's band,

If yet by toil unconquer'd but I fee,

That all. unyielding, court the promis'd fight. Hail ! glorious veterans. This fignal day Alay your victorious arms augment the wreaths A r ound your venerable heads, and grace Thermopylae with Marathonian fame.

This faid, he hatlensback. Meantime advance The Mantinean, Diophantus brave, Then Hegefander, Tegea's dauntlefs chief, Who near Diomedon in equal range Erect their ftandards. Next the Thebans form. Alcroaeon, bold Eupalamus fucceed With their Corinthian and Phliafian bands. La ft on the Malian ihore Mycenaes youth Ariftobulns draws. From Oeta's fide Do'.vn to the bay in well-connected length Each gleaming rank contains a hundred (pears, While twenty bucklers ev'ry rank condenle. A fure fupport, Dieneces behind Arrays the Spartans. Godlike Agis here, TWre Menalippus by their leader (land Two bulwarks. Breathing ardour in the rear, The words of Alpheus fan the growing ilame Of expectation through his light arm'd force; While Polydorus prefent in his thoughts To vengeance fliarpens his indignant foul.

No foe is feen. No diflant Ihout is heard. This paufe of action Dithyrambus chofe. The folemn fcenc on Oeta to his friend He open'd large ; pourtray'd MelihVs form, Re ve a I'd her mandate ; when Platfca's chief.

Such elevation of a female mind Befpenks Mel ilia worthy to obtain The conference fhe afks. This wond'rous dame Amid her hymns conceives fome lofty thought To make thefe (laves, who loiter in their camp, Dread ev'n our women. But, my gentle friend) S,ay, Dithyrambus, whom the liquid fpell Of fong enchants, fhould I reproach the gods, Who form'd me cold to mufic's'pleafing pow'r? Or (hould I thank them, that the foft'njng charm Of found or numbers ne'er difToiv'd my foul 1 Yet I confefs, thy valour breaks that charm, Which may enrapture, not unman thy breaft.

To whom his friend. Dutli he, whifelay* record

The woes of Priam, and the Grecian fame r Doth he diflblve thy Ipirit ? Yet he flowb In all the fweetnefs harmony can breathe.

No, by the gods Diomedon rejoins. I feel that mighty mufe. I fee the car Of fierce Achilles, fee th' encumber'd wheels O'er heroes driv'n, and clotted with their gore, Another too demands my foul's efteem, Brave ^Efchylus of Athens. I have feen His mufe begirt by furies, while (lie fwell'd Her tragic numbers. Him in equal rage His country's foes overwhelming I beheld At Marathon. If Phoebus would diffufe Such fire through ev'ry bard, the tuneful band Might in themielves find heroes for their fongs. But, fon of Harmatides, lift thine eye To yonder point, remotejt in the bay. Thofe feeining clouds, which o'er the billows*

fleet

Succefllve round the jutting land are fails. Th' Athenian pendant haftens to falute Leonidas. O /Efchylus, my friend, Firft in the train of "Phoebus and of Mars, Be thou on board ! Swift-bounding o'er the waves, Come, and be witnefs to heroic deeds ! Brace thy flrong harp with loftier-founding chords To celebrate this battle ! Fall who may ; But if they fall with honour, let their names Round feitive goblets in thy numbers ring, And joy, not grief, accompany the fong.

Converting thus, their courage they beguif d, Which eile impatient of inactive hours At lung-fufpcnded glory had repin'd.

BOOK VII.

THE ARGUMENT.

MEGISTIAS delivers Meliffa's meflage to Leoni das. Medon, her brother, conducts him to the temple. She furnifhes Leonidas with the means of executing a defign he had premeditated to annoy the enemy. They are joined by a body of mariners under the command of ^Eichylus, a celebrated poet and warrior among the Athe nians. Leonidas takes the ne'ceffary meafures; and,obferving from afummitof Oetathe motions of the Ptrfian army, expecls another attack : this is renewed with great violence by Hyperan- thes, Abrocomes, and the principal Perfian leaders at the head of fome chofen troops.

MEGISTIAS, urging to unwonted fpeed

His aged fteps, by Dithyrambus charg'd

With fage Meliffa's words, had now rejoin'd

The king of Lacedemon, At his fide

Was Maron potted, watchful to receive

His high injunction. In the rear they ftood

Behind two thouiand Locrians, deep-array'd

By warlike Medon, from O'ileus fpruug.

Leonidas to them his anxious mind

Was thus difclofing. Medon, Maron, hear.

From this low rampart my exploring eye

But half commands the action, yet hath mark'd

Enough for caution. Yon barbarian camp,

Inmienfe, exhauirlefs, deluging the ground

With myriads, ftill o'erflowing, may confume;

By endiefs numbers, and unceafing ;oii

LEONID AS.

515

The Grecian ftrength. Not marble is our flefli, Nor adamant our fine ws. Sylvan pow'rs, Who dwell on Oeta, your fuperior aid We mutt folicit. Your ftupendous cliffs In thofe loole rocks, and branchlefs trunks con tain More fell annoyance than the arm of man.

He etided, when Megiftias. Virtuous king, Melifta, prieftefs of the tuneful nine, By their behefts invites thy honoured feet To her chafte dwelling, feat-.-d on that hilL To conference of high import Hie calls Thee, firft of Grecians. Medon interpos'd.

She is my lifter. Juftice rules her ways With piety and wifdom. To her voice The nations round give ear. The mules breathe Their infpiration through her fyotlefs foul Which borders on divinity. She calls On thee. O truly ft y I'd the firft of Greeks, Regard her call. Tfon clifPs projecting head To thy difcernment will afford a fcope More full, more certain; thence thy ikilful eye Will beft direct the fight. MelilVa's fire Was ever prefent.to the king in thought, Who thus to Medon. Lead, Oileus' ton. Before the daughter of Oileus place My willing feet. They haftetxto the cave. Megiftias, Maron follow. Through the rock Leonidas, afcending to the fane, Rofe like the god of morning from the cell Of night, when, Ihedding cheerfulnefs and day On hill and vale emblaz'd with dewy gems, He gladdens nature. Lacedemon's king, Majeltically graceful and ferene, Difpels the rigour in that folemn feat Of holy fequeitration,. On the face Of penfive-ey'd religion rapture glows In admiration of the goldiike man. Advanc'd MeliiTu. He her proffer'd haud In hue, in purity like'fnow, receiv'd. A heav'n-illumin'd dignity of look On him flie fix'd. Rever'd by all, flie fpake.

Hail ! chief of men, felected by the gods For purer fame, than Hercules acquir'd. This hour allows no paufe. She leads the king With Medon, Maron, and Megiftias down A flope,- declining to the morTy verge, Which terminates the mountain. While they

pafs,

She thus proceeds. Thefe marble mafles view, Which lie difpers'd around you. They were

hewn

From yonder quarry. Note thofe pond'rous beatas, The fylvan offspring of that hill. With thefe At my requeft th' Amphictyons from their feat Of gen'ral council pioufly decreed To raife a dome, the ornament of Greece. Obferve thofe wither'd firs, thofe mould'ring

oaks,

Down that declivity, half-rooted, bent, Inviting human force Then look below. There lies Thermopylae. I fee, exclaims The high-conceiving hero. I recai Thy father's words and forecaft. He prefag'd, I fliould not find his daughter's counfel vain. He to accomplifli what thy wifdom plans, Hath ampklt means fupply'd. Go, Medon, bring

The thoufand peafants from th' Ci'lean vale

DetachM. Their leader Melibcuus bring.

Fly, Maron. Ev'ry inftrument provide

To fell the trees, to drag the mati'y beams,

To lit't the broad-hewn-iragments. Are not thefe

For facred ule referv'd, Megiftius faid ?

Can thefe be wielded by the hand of Mars

Without pollution ? In a folemn tone

The prieftefs anfvver'd. Rev'rend oian, who

bear'il

PontJfic wreaths, and thou, great captain, hear. Forbrar to think that my unprompted mind, Calm and fequefter'd in religion's peace, Could have devis'd a ftratagem of war ; Or, unpermitted, could re^n to Mars Thefe rich materials, gather'd to reftore In itrrngth and I'plendour yon decrepid walls, And that time-ihaken roof. Rejecting fleep, Laft night I Jay, contriving fwift revenge On thefe Barbarians, whole career profane Overturns the Grecian temples, and devotes Their holy bow'rs to flames. I left my couch, Long ere the fun his orient gates unbarr'd. Beneath yon beach my penfive head reclin'd. The rivulets, the fountains, warbling round, Attracted ilmviber. In a dream I faw Calliope. Her lifters, all with harps, Were rang'd around her; as their Parian forms Show in the temple. Doft thou fleep, fhe faid ? Meliffa, doft thou fleep ? The barb'rous hoft Approaches Greece. The firft of Grecians comes By death to vauquifh. Priellefs, let him hull Thefe; marble heaps, thefe confccrated beams, Our fane itfelf to crufli the impious ranks. The hero fummon to our facred hill. Reveal the promis'd fuccour. All is due To liberty againft a tyrant's pride. She ftruck her fliell. In concert full reply'd The filter lyres. Leonidas they fung In ev'ry note and dialect yet known,. In meafures new, in language yet to come.

She finifli'd. Then Megiftias. Dear to heav'n, By nations honour'd, and in tow'ring thought O'er either fex pre-eminent, thy words To me a foldier and a prieft fuffice. I hefitate no longer. But the king, Wrapt in ecftatic contemplation, ftood. Revolving deep an anfwer, which might fuit His dignity and hers. At length he fpake.

Not Lacedemon's whole collected ftate Of fenate, people, ephori, and kings. Not the Amphictyons, whofe convention holds The univerfal majefty of Greece, E'er drew fuch rev'rence, as thy fingle form,

all-furpaffing woman, worthy child Of time-renown'd Oileus. In thy voice

1 hear the goddefs, Liberty. I fee In thy fublimity of look and port

That daughter bright of Eleutherian Jove. . Me thou haft prais'd. My confcious fpirit feels, That not to triumph in thy virtuous praife Were want of virtue. Yet, illuftrious dame, Were I affur'd, that oracles delude ; That, unavailing, I fliould fpill my blood; That all the mutes offubjected Greece Hereafter would be filent, and my name Be ne'er traufmitted to recording time ; Kkij

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

There is in virtue for her fake alone,

"What fiiould uphold my refolution firm.

My country's laws I never would furvive.

Mov'd at his words, reflecting on his fate,

She had relax'd her dignity of mind,

Had funk in fadnefs ; but her brother's helflfit

Before her beam*. Relumining her night,

He through the cave like Hefperus afcends,

Th' Oilcan hinds conducing to achieve

The enterprife, flie counfels, Now her ear

Is pierc'd by notes, Jhrill founding from the vault.

Upftarts a dift'rent band, alert and light,

Athenian failors. ; Long and fep'rate files

Of lufty fhoulders, eas'd by union, bear"

Thick, well-coropadled cables, wont to heave

The reftiff anchor. To a naval pipe,

As if one foul invigorated all,

And all compos'd cne body, they Irad trod

In equal paces, mazy, yet unbroke

Throughout their paffage So the fpinal ftrength

Ot fome portentous ierpent, whom the heats

Of Libya breed, indiffblubly knit,

But flexible, a-crofs the fandy plain,

Or up the mountain draws his fpotted length,

Or where a winding excavation leads.

Through rocks abrupt and wild. Of ftature large,

In arms, which fliow'd fimplicity of ftrength,

No decoration of redundant art,

With lable horfe-hair, floating down his back,

A warrior moves behind. Compos'd in gait,

Aufterely grave and thoughtful, on his fliidd

The democratic majefty he bore

Of Athens. Carv'd in emblematic brafs,

Her image flood with Pallas by her tide,

And trampled under each victorious foot

A regal crown, one Pt^fian, one ufurpt

J^y her own tyrants on the well-fought plain

Of Marathon confounded. He commands

Thefe future guardians of their country's weal,

Of gen'ral Greece the bulwarks. Their high

deeds

From Artemifium, from th' empurpled mores Of Salamis renown ihall echo wide j Shall tell pofterity in lateft times, That naval fortitude controuls the world. Swift Maron, following, brings a vig'rous band Ot Helots. Ev'ry inftrument they wield 3To delve, to hew, to heave ; and active laft Bounds Meliboeus, vigilant to urge The tardy forward. To Laconia's king Advanc'd th 1 Athenian leader, and began :

Thou godlike ruler of Eurotas, hail ! Thee by my voice Themiftocles faiutes, The admiral of Athens. I conduct By public choice the iquadron of my tribe, Anrl JEfchylus ar call'd. Our chief hath giv'n Three days to glory on Eubcea's coaft, Whofe promontories alrnoft rife to meet Thy ken from Oeta's cliffs. This morning faw The worried foe, from Artemifium driv'n, Leave their difabled mips, and floating wrecks For Grecian trophies. When the light was cios'd, I was detach'd to bring th' aufpicious news, To bid thee welcome. Fortunate my keel Hath fwiftly borne me. Joyful I concur In thy attempt. Appris'd by yonder chiefs, Who met me landing, inftau from

A. thoufand gallant manners I drew,

Who till the fetting fun mail lend their toil.

Themiftocles and thou accept my heart, Leonidas reply'd, and clofely itrain'd The brave, the learn'd Athenian to his breaft. To envy is ignoble, to admire Th' activity of Athens will become A king of Sparta, who like thee condemned His country's floth. But Sparta now is arm'd. Thou flialt commend. Behold me llatiou'd hert To watch the wild viciffitudes of war, Direct the courfeof flaughter. To this poft By that fuperior woman I was call'd. By long protracted fight left fainting Greece Should yield, outnumbered, my enlighten'dfou! Through her, whom heav'n enlightens, hath-

devis'd

To whelm the num'rous, perfevering foe In hideous death, and fignalize the day With horrors new to war. The mufes prompt The bright achievement. Lo ! from Athens finite* Minerva too. Her fwift, aufpicious aid In thee we find, and thefe, an ancient race, By her and Neptune cherifli'd. Straight he meets The gallant train, majeftic with his arms Cutfrrtch'd, in this applauding' ilrain he fpake :

iib'ral people, earlieft arm'd to fnield

Not your own Athens more, than gen'ral Greece, You beft deferve her gratitude. Her praife Will rank you tbre-moft on the rolls of fame.

They hear, they gaze, revering and rever'd. Frefli numbers mufter, rufliing from the hills, The thickets round, Meliitti, pointing, fpake:

1 am their leader. Native of the hills- Are thefe, the rural worfliippcrs of Pan,

Who breathes an ardour through their humble

minds

To join your warriors. ValFals thefe, not mine, But of the mufes, and their hallow'd laws, Adminifter'd by me. Their patient hands Make culture fmile, where nature feems to chide ; Nor wanting my instructions, or my pra^'rs, j Fertility they fcatter by their toil Is Meliboeus here ! Thou fence fecure To old Oileus from the cares of time, Thrice art thou welcome. Ufeful, wife, belov'd^ Where'er thou fojourneft, OH Oeta known, As oft the bounty of a father's love Thou on MeliiTa's folitude deft pour, Be thou director of thefe mountain hinds. Th' important labour to infphnng airs From flutes and harps in fymphony with hymns- Of holy virgins, ardent all perform, In bands divided under different chiefs. Huge timbers, blocks of marble to remove They firft attempted ; then aftembled (tones Loofe in their beds, and wither'd trunks, uptorn, By tempers; next difmembei'd from the rock Broad, rugged fragments; from the mountains
 * Around this aged temple's wild domain.

hevv'd

Theif venerable firs, and aged oaks, Which, of their branches by the lightning bar'd> Prefented Itill againft the blafting flame Their hoary pride unfhaken. Thefe the But chief th' Athenian mariners, to force Uniting ikiilj with mafly leavers heave

L E N 1 D A S;

With ftrong-knit cables drag : till, now difpos'd, Where great Leonidas appoints, the piles ,

Nod o'er the Streights. This new and fudden

fcene

Might lift imagination to belief, That Orpheus and Amphion from their beds Of ever blooming afphodel had heard The mufescali; had brought their fabled harps, At whofe mellifluent charm once more the trees Had burft their fibrous bands, and marbles leap'd In rapid motion from the quarry's wombj That day to follow harmony in aid Of gen'rous valour. Fancy might difccrn Cerulean Tethys, from her coral grot Emerging, feated on her pearly car, With Nereids, floating on the furge below, To view in wonder from the Malian bay The Attic fons of Neptune ; who forfook Their wooden walls to range th' Oetaean crag?, To rend the forefts, and disjoin the rocks.

Meantime a hundred fheep are ilain. Their

limbs

From burning piles fame grateful. Bounty fpreads A decent board. Simplicity attends. Then fpake the prieftefs. Long. enduring chiefs, Your efforts, now accompli(h'd, may admit Reflection due to this hard-labour'd train, Due to yourfelves. Her hofpitable (mile Wins her wcll-chofcn guefts, Laconia'sking, Her brother, Maron, TEfchylus divine With Acarnania'sprieft. Her firft commands To Melibceus fedulous and blithe Diftribute plenty through the toiling crowd. Then, flcreen'd beneath clofe umbrage of an oak, Each care-divefred chief the banquet (hares.

Cool breezes, whifp'ring, flutter in the leaves, Whofe verdure, pendent in an arch, repel The weft'ring fun's hot glare. Favonius bland His breath impregnates with exhaling fweets From flow'ry beds, whofe fcented clufters deck The. gleaming pool in view. Faft by, a brook In limpid lampfes over native fteps Attunes his cadence to fonorous ftrings, And liquid accents of MeliflVs maids. The floating air in melody rt-fpires. A rapture mingles in the calm repaft. Uprifes JEfchylus. A goblet full He grafps. To thofe divinities, who dwell In yonder temple, this libation firft, To thee, benignant hoftefs, next I pour, Then to thy tame, Leonidas. He faid. His bread, with growing heat diftended, prompts His eager hand, to whole exprefiive fign One of the virgins cedes her facred lyre. Their choral fong complacency reftrains. The foul of mufic, burlting from his touch, At once gives birth to ientiment fublime.

O Hercules, and Perfeus, he began, Star-fpangled twins of Leda, and the red Of Jove's immediate feed, your fplcndid acls Mankind protected, while the race was rude ; While o'er the earth's r.nciviliz'd extent The favage monfler, and the ruffian fway'd, More favage ftill. No policy, nor laws Had fram'd focieties. By (ingle ftrength A fingle rufHan, or a monfter fell. The legitlator rofe. Three lights in Greece,

..ycurgus, Solon and Zaleiicusblaz'd; Theii, fubllituting wifdom, Jove profufe Of his own blood no longer, gave us more

n difcipline and manners, which can form A hero like Leonidas, than ail The god-be'gotten progeny before. The pupils next of Solon claim the mufe.

ound your hoarfe conchs, ye Tritons. You be-

The Atlantean fhape of (laughter wade Through your aftonifh'd deeps, his purple arm Jplifting high before th' Athenian line. You faw bright conqueft, riding on the gale, Which fwell'd their fails; faw terror at their

helms

To guide their brazen beaks on Afia's pride. 3er adamantine grapple from their decks Fate threw, and ruin on the holtile fleet nextricably fafton'd. Sound, ye nymphs Of Oeta's mountains, of her woods and dreams, Who hourly witnefs to Meliffa's worth, Ye oreads, dryads, naiads, found her praife. Proclaim Zaleucus by his daughter grac'd Like Solon and Lycurgus by their fons.

Lacoma's hero, and the prieftefs bowM Their foreheads grnteful to the bard fublime. She, riling, taRes the word. More fweet thy lyrft To friendihip's ear, than terrible to foes Thy ipear in battle, though the keeneft point, Which ever pierc'd Barbarians. Clofe we here The fong and banquet- Hark ! a diftant din From Alia's camp requires immediate care.

She leads. Alonglhe rocky vcr^e they pafs, In calm delight Leonidas furveys All in the order, which he laft afiign'd ; As o'er Thermopylae beneath he raft A wary look. The mountain's furtheft crag Now reach'd, MelifTa to the king began :

Obferve that fpacu below, difpers'd in dales^ In hollows, winding through diffever'd rocks. The flen.tf r outlet, (kreen'd by yonder P.irubs, Leads to the pafs. There (lately to my view The martial queen of Caria yefter fun, Defcending, fliow'd. Her loiully I reprov'd. Cut (lie, devoted to the Perfian king. In ambufli there preferv'd his flying hof>. She laft retreated; but, retreating, prov'd Her valour equal to a better caufe. Again I fee the heroine approach.

Megiftias then. I fee a powerful arm, Sullaining firm the large, ernblazon'd (hield* Which, fafliion'd fifft in Caria, we have learn'a To imitate in Greece. Sublime her port Befpeaks a mighty fpirit. Priefteis, look. An act of piety (he now performs, Directing thofe, perhaps her Carian band, To bear dead brethren from the bloody field. Among the horfemen an exalted form Like Demaratus ftrikes my fearching eye. To me, recalling his tranfcendent rank In Sparta once, he Teems a languid fun, Which dimly (inks in exhalations dark, Enveloping his radiance. While he fpake, Intent on martial duty Medon views The dang'rous thicket; Laredemon's chief, Around the region his confid'rate eye Extending, marks each movement of the far- K k iii

THE WORKS OF

Th 1 imperial PeriTan from his lofty car Had in the morning's early conflict feen His vanquifh'd army, pouring from the ftreights Back to their tents, and o'er his camp difpers'd In confternation ; as a river burits Impetuous from his fountain, then, enlarg'd, Spreads a dead furface o'er fome level marfli. Th' aftonifh'd king thrice darted from his feat ; Shame, fear and indignation rent his breaft ; As ruin irrefiftible were near To overwhelm his millions. Hafte, he call'd To Hyperanthes, hafte and meet the Greeks. Their daring rage, their infolence repel. From fuch difhonour vindicate our name.

His royal brother through th' extenfive camp Obedient movM. Deliberate and brave, Each active princp from ev'ry tent remote, The hardieft troops he fummon'd. Caria's queen, To Hyperanthes bound by. firm efleem Of worth, unrivalTd in the Perfian court, In folemn pace was now returning flow .Before a band, tranfporting from the field Their flain companions to the fandy beach.

She ftopp'd, and thus addrefs'd him. Learn, O

prince,

Trom one, whofe wifhes on thy merit wait. The only means to bind thy gallant brow In faireft wreathes. To break the Grecian line Jn vain ye ftruggle, unarray'd and lax, .Depriv'd of union. Try to form one band In order'd ranks, and emulate the foe. Nor to fecure a thicket next the pafs Forget. Selected numbers ftation there. Farewell, young hero. May thy fortune prove "Unlike to mine. Had Afia's millions fpar'd One myriad to fuflain me, none had feen Me quit the dang'rons conteft. But the head Of bafe Argeftes on fome future day Shall feel my treafur'd vengeance. From the fleet I only ftay, till burial rites are paid To thefe dead Cariatts. On this fatal ftrand May Artemifia's grief appeafe your ghufts, My faithful fubjects, facrific''d in vain.

The hero grateful and refpectful heard. What loon his \yarmth neglected at the fight Or fpears, which flam'd innumerable round. Beyond the reft in luftre was a band, The farellites of Xerxes. They forfook Their conftant orbit round th' imperial throne At this dread crifis. To a myriad fix'd, , From their unchanging number they deriv'd The title of Immortals. Light their fpears ; Set in pomegranates of refulgent gold, Ur burnilh'd filver,. were the (lender blades. Magnificent and ftately were the ranks. The prince, commanding mute attention, fpake.

In two divifions part your number, chiefs. One will I lead to onfet. In my ranks Abrocomes, Hydarnes ihall advance, Pandates, Mindus, Intaphernes brave To wreft this ihort-liv'd victory from Greece. Thou, Abradates, by Sofarmes join'd, Orontes and Mazaeus, keep the reft From action. Future fuccour they no lift lend. Should envious fate exhauft our num'rons files. For, O pure Mithra, may thy radiant eye Ne'er fee us, yielding to ignoble flight,

The Perfian name difhonour. May the a<hf Of our renown'd progenitors, who, led By Cyrus, gave one monarch to the eaft, In us revive. O think, ye Perfian lords, What endlcfs infamy will blaft your names; Should Greece, that narrow portion of the earth, Your pow'r defy : when Babylon hath low'r'd Her tow 'ring creft, when Lydia's pride is quell' d In Crcefus vanquifli'd, when her empire loll Ecbatana deplores. Ye chofen guard, Your king's immortal bulwark, O reflect, What deeds from your fuperior fwords he claims* You fhare his largeft bounty. To your faith, Your conftandy and prowefs he commits His throne, his perfon, and this day his fame.

They wave their banners, blazing in the fun, Who then three hours tovv'rd Hefperushad driv'n From his meridian height. Amid their ihouts The hoarfe-refounding billows are not heard. Of .diff'rent nations, and in different garb, Innumerous and vary'd like the {hells, By reftlefs Tethys fcatter'd on the beach, ' O'er which they trod, the multitude advanc'd, Straight by Leonidas defcry'd. The van Abrocome* and Hyperanthes led, Pandates, Mindus. Violent their march Sweeps down the rocky, hollow-founding pafs. So, where th' unequal globe in mountains fwells r A torrent rolls his thund'ring furge between The fteep-erected cliffs ; tumultuous dafli The waters, hurfting on the pointed crags : The valley roars ; the marble channel foams. Th' undaunted Greeks immoveably withfland The dire encounter. Soon th' impetuous {hock Of thoufands and of myriads makes the ground. Stupendous fcene of terror ! Under hills, Whofe fides, half-arching, o'er the holls project, The unabatirig fortitude of Greece Maintains her line, th' untrain'd Barbarians charge In favage fury. With inverted trunks, Or bent obliquely from the fliagged ridge, The iilvan horrors overfliade the fight. The clanging trump, the crafli of mingled fpears, The groan of death, and war's difcordant ftiouts Alarm the echoes in their neighb'ring caves ; Woods, cliffs and fliores return the dreadful found,

BOOK VIII.

THE ARGUMENT.

HYPESANTHES difcontinuing the fight, 'while he waits for reinforcements, Teribazus, a Perfian remarkable for his merit and learning, and highly beloved by Hyperanthes, but unhappy in his paflion for Ariana, a daughter of Darius, advances from the reft of the army to the ref- cuc of a friend in diltrefs, who lay wounded on the field of battle. Teribazus is attacked by Diophantus, the Mantinean, whom he over comes ; then engaging with Dithyrambus, is himfelf flain. Hyperanthes haftens to his fuccour. A general battle enfues, where Di- omedon diftinguifh.es his valour. Hyperanthes and Abrocomes, partjy by their own efforts, and partly by the perfidy of the Thebans, who defert the line, being on the point of forcing the Grecians, are repulfed by the Lacedemoni ans. Hyperanthes compofes a feledl body out

L E O N 1 D A

of the PerCan fb tiding forces, and, making an improvement in their discipline, renews the attack; upon which Leonidas changes the dif- pofition of his army. Hyperanthes and the ableft Pcrfian generals are driven out of the field, and feveral tboufands of the Barbarians, circumvented in the pals, are entirely deflroyed.

AMID the van of Perfia was a youth,

Nam'd Teribazus, not for golden {lores,

Not for wide paftures, travcrs'd o'er by herds,

By fleece-abounding fheep, or gen'rous fteeds,

Nor yet for pow'r, nor fplendid honours fam'd.

Rich was his mind in ev'ry art divine ;

Through ev'ry path of fcience had he walk'd,

The votary of wifdom. In the years,

When tender down invcfts the ruddy cheek,

He with the Magi turri'd the hallow'd page

Of Zoroaftrcs. Then his tow'ring thoughts

High on the plumes of contemplation foar'd.

He from the loftyBabylonian fane

With learn'd Chaldasans trac'd the heav'nly fphere,

There number'd o'er the vivid fires, which gleam

On night's befpanglcd bofom. Nor unheard

"Were Indian fages from fequefler'd bow'rs,

While on the hanks of Ganges they difclos'd

The pow'rs of nature, whether in the woods,

The fruitful glebe, or flow'r, the healing plant,

The limpid waters, or the ambient air,

Or in the purer element of fire.

The realm of old Sefoftris next lit view'd,

Myfterious Egypt with her hidden rites

Of Ifis and Oiiris. Lafl he fought

Th' Ionian Greeks, from Athens fprung, nor pafs'd

Miletis by, which once in rapture heard

The tongue of Thales, nor Priene's walls,

Where wifdom dwelt with Bias, nor the feat

Of Pittacus, rever'd on Lefbian fhores.

Th' enlighten'd youth to Sufa now return'd, Place of his birth. His merit foon was dear To Hyperanthes. It was now the time, That difcontent and murmur on the banks Of Nile were loud and thrcat'ning. Chembes

there

The only faithful flood, a potent lord, Whom Xerxes held by promis'd nuptial ties With his own blood. To this Egyptian prince Bright Ariana was the deftin'd fpoufe, prom the fame bed with Hyperanthes born. Among her guards was Tcribazus nam'd By that fond brother, tender of her weal.

Th' Egyptian boundaries they gain. They hear Of infurre&ion, of the Pharian tribes In arms, and Chembes in the tumult (lain. They pitch their tents, at midnight are alTail'd, Surpris'd, their leaders maflacred, the flaves Of Ariana captives borne away, Her own pavilion forc'd, her perfon feiz'd By ruffian hands : when timely to redeem Her and th' invaded camp from further fpoil Hies Teribazus with a rally'd band, Swift on her chariet feats the royal fair, Nor waits the dawn. Of all her menial train None, but three female flaves arc left. Her guide Her comforter and guardian fate provides In him, diltinguifh'd by his worth alone, No prince, nor fatrap, now the Jingle chief Of her furviving guard. Of regal birth,

3ut with excelling graces in her foul, Unlike an eaftern princefs fhe inclines 'o his confoling, his inftrudlive tongue An humbled ear. Amid the coRverfe fweet Her charms, her mind, her virtues he explores, Admiring. Soon is admiration chang'd L'o love ; nor loves he fooner, than defpairs. Back to Euphrates. Often, as fhe mounts, Or quits the car, his arm her weight fuftains With trembling pleafure. His affiduous hand ?rom pureft fountains wafts the living flood. Nor feldom by the fair one's foft command Would he repofe him, at her feet reclin'd ; While o'er his lips her lovely forehead bow'd, Won by his grateful eloquence, which footh'd With fweet variety the tedious march, Beguiling time. He too would then forget His pains a while, in raptures vain entranc'd, Deluiion all, and fleeting rays of joy, Soon ovcrcaft by more intenfe defp&ir; Like wint'ry clouds, which, op'ning for a time, Tinge their black folds with gleams of fcatter'd
 * rom morn till ev'n her pafling wheels he guards

light,

Then, fwiftly clofing, on the brow of morn Condenfe their horrors, and in thickeft gloom The ruddy beauty veil. They now approach The tow'r of Belus. Hyperanthes leads Through Babylon an army to challUe The crime of Egypt. Teribazus here Parts from his princefs, marches bright in fleel Beneath his patron's banner, gathers palms On conquer'd Nile. To Sufa he returns, To Ariana's refidence, and bears Deep in his heart th' immedicable wound. But unreveal'd and filent was his pain ; Nor yet in folitary fhades he roam'd, Nor fhun'd refort : but, o'er his forrows caft A fickly dawn of gladnefs; and in fmvles Conceal'd his anguifh ; while the fecret flame Rag'd in his bofom, and its peace confum'd : His foul ftill brooding o'er thefe mournful thoughts.

Can I, O Wifdom, find relief in thee, Who doft approve my paflion ? From the fnarej Of beauty only thou wouldft guard my heart. But here thyfelf art charm'd ; where foftnefs,

grace,

And ev'ry virtue dignify defire. Yet thus to love, defpairing to poflefs, Of all the torments, by relentlefs fate On life ir.fli&ed, is the moft fevere. Do I not feel thy warnings in my bread, That flight alone can fave me ? I will go Back to the learn'd Chaldaeans, on the banks Of Ganges feck the fages ; where to heav'n With thee my elevated foul ihall tow'r. O wretched Teribazus ! all confpires Agninft thy peace. Our mighty lord prepares To overwhelm the Grecians. Ev'ry youth I* call'd to war ; and I, who lately pois'd With no inglorious arm the foldier's lance, ip- Who near the fide of Hyperanthes fought, Muft join the throng. How therefore can I fly From Ariana, who with Afia's queens The fplendid camp of Xerxes muft adorn ? Then be it fo. Again 1 will adore Her gentle virtues. Her delightful voice, Her gracious fvveetnefs fhall again diffufe K k iiij

520

THE \VORKS OF GLOVER.

Refifllefs rnaglc through my ravifh'd heart ; Till paflion, thus with double rage enflam'd, Swells to diftra&ion in my tortur'd breaft, Then but in vain through darknefs do I fearch My fate Defpair and fortune be my guides.

The day arriv'd, when Xerxes firft advanc'd His arms from Sufa's gates. 1 he Perfian dames, .So were accuftom'd all the eaftern fair, In fumptuous cars accompany'd his march, A beauteous train, by Ariana grac'd. Ker Teribazus follows, on her wheels Attends and pines. Such woes opprefs the youth, Opprefs, but not enervate. From the van He in this fecond conflict had withftood The threat'ning frown of adamantine Mars, He fingly, while his braved friends recoil'd. His manly temples no tiara bound. The flender lance of Afia he difdain'd, And her light target. Eminent he tow'r'd Jn Grecian arms the wonder of his foes ; Amona th' Jonians were his ftrenuous limbs Train'd .n the gymnic ichool. A fulgent cafque Enclos'd his head. Before his face and cheft Down to the knees an ample fhield was fpread. A pond'rous fpear he fhook. The well-aim'd

point '

Sent two Phliafians to the realms of death With four Tegaeans, whofc indignant chief, Brave Hegefander, vengeance brcath'd in vain, With dreaming wounds repuls'd. Thus far un-

match'd,

His arm prevail'd ; when Hyperanthes call'd From fight his fainting legions. Now each band Their languid courage reinforc'd by reft'. Meantime with Teribazus thus conferr'd Th' applauding prince. Thou much dcferving

youth,

Had twenty warriors in the dang'rous van Like thee maintain'd the onfet, Greece had wept Her proilrate ranks. The weary'd fight awhile ,1 now relax, till Abradates ftrong, Orontes and Mazasus are advanc'd. Then to the conflicT: will 1 give no paufe. If not by prowefs, yet by endlefs toil Succeffive numbers fliall exhauft the foe.

He faid. Immers'd in ladnefs, fcarcc reply'd, But to himfeJf complain'd the am'rous youth. Still do I languifh, mourning o'er the fame. My arm acquires. Tormented heart ! thou feat Of con ftant forrow, what deceitful fmiles Yet canft thou borrow from unreal hope To flatter life ? at Ariana's feet What if with fupplicaiing knees I bow, Implore her pity, and reveal my love. Wretch ! canft thou climb to yon effulgent orb^ And fhare the fplendours, which irradiate heav'n? Doft thou afpire to that exalted maid. Great Xerxes' fitter, rivalling the claim Of Afia's proudeft potentates ami kings ? Unlefs within her bofom I mfpir'd A paflion fervent, as my own, nay more, Such, as difpelling ev'ry virgin fear, Might, urireftrain'd, difclofe its fond defire, My love is hopelefs ; and her willing hand. Should fhe beftow it, draws from Afia's lord- On both perdition. By defpair benumb'd, His limbs their adlion lofe. A wifh for death G'ercafts and chills his foul. When Aidden cries

From Ariamnes roufe his drooping pOw'm

Alike in manners they of equal age

Were friends, and partners in the glorious toil

Of war. Together they victorious chas'd

The bleeding foris of Nile, when Egypt's pride

Before the fword of Hyperanthes fell.

That lov'd companion Teribazus views

By all abandon'd, in his gore outfl retch'd

The vigor's fpbil. His languid fpirit ftarts;

He rufhes ardent from the Perfian line ;

The wounded warrior in his ftrong embrace

He bears 4 away. By indignation flung,

Fierce from the Grecians Diophantus fends

A loud defiance. Teribazus leaves

His refcu'd friend. His maffy fhield he rears ;

High-brandifhing his formidable fpear,

He turns intrepid on th' approaching foe.

Amazemen* follows. On he flrides, and {hake's

The plumed honours of his fhining crefl.

Th' ill-fated Greek awaits th' unequal fight,

Pierc'd in the throat, with founding arms he falls>

Through ev'ry file the Mamineans mourn.

Long on the flain the victor fix'd his fight

With thefe reflections. By thy fplendid arms

Thou art a Greek of no ignoble rank.

From thy ill fortune 1 perhaps derive

A more confpicuous luftre What if heav'n

hould add new viclims, fuch as thou, to gracfi My undeserving hand ? who knows, but fhe Might fmile upon my trophies. Oh ! vain thought ! I fee the pride of Afia's monarch fwell With vengeance fatal to her beauteous head. Difperfe, ye phantom hopes. Too long, torn

heart,

Haft thou with grief contended. Lo ! I plant My foot this moment on the verge of death, By fame invited, by defpair impell'd To pafs th' irremeable bound. No more Shall Teribazus backward turn his ftep, But here conclude his doom. Then ceafe Thou troubled bofom, ev'ry thought becalm Now at th' approach of everlafting peace.

He ended ; when a mighty foe drew nigh, Not lefs, than Dithyrambus. Ere they join'd, The Perfian warrier to the Greek began :

Art thon th' unconquerable chief, who mow'd Our battle down ? That eagle on thy fhield Too well proclaims thee. To attempt thy force I rafhly purpos'd. That my fingle arm Thou deign 'ft to meet, accept my thanks, and

know,

The thought of conqueft lefs employs my fouj, Than admiration of thy glorious deeds, And that by thee I cannot fall difgrac'd.

He ceas'd. Thefe words the Thefpian youth

return'd :

Of all the praifes from thy gen'rous mouth The only portion, my defert may claim, Is this my bold adventure to confront! Thee, yet unmatch'd. What Grecian hath Jio

mark'd

Thy flaming ftcel ? from Afia's boundlefs camp Not one hath equall'd thy victorious might. But whence thy armour of the Grecian form ? Whence thy tall fpear, thy helmet ? Whence the

weight

Of that ftrong fhield ? Unlike thy eaftern friendj> O if thou be'it fome fugitive, who, loft

1 E O N I D A S.

To liberty anel virtue, art become A tyrant's vile ftipendiary, that arm, That valour thus triumphant I deplore, Whtfh after all their efforts and fuccefs Deferve no honour from the gods, or men.

Here feribazus in a figh rejoin'd, I am to Greeci a ftrangcr, am a wretch To thce unknown, who courts this hour to die, Yet not ignobly, but in death to raife My name from darknefs, while I end my woes.

The Grecian then : I view thec, and I mourn. A dignity, which virtue only bears, Firm refolution, feated on thy brow, Though grief hath dimm'd thy drooping eye, de mand

My veneration : and whatever be The malice of thy fortune, what the cares, Infefting thus thy quiet, they create Within my breaft the pity of a friend* Why then, conftraining my reluctant hand To a A againft thec will thy might fypport Th' unjuft ambition of malignant kings, The foes to virtue, liberty and peace ? Vet free from rage, or enmity I lift My adverfe weapon. Victory I afk. Thy life may fate for happier days referve.

This faid, their beaming lances they protend, Of hoftilc hate, or fury both devoid, As on the Ifthmian, or Olympic fands For fame alone contending. Either hoft, Pois'd oa their arms, in fiient wonder gaze. The fight commences. Soon the Grecian fpear, Which all the day in conftant battle worn, Unnumber'd fhields and corfelets had transfix'd, Againft the Perfian buckler, (hiv'ring, breaks, Its matter's hand difarming. Then began . The fenfe of honour, and the dt ead of ftiame To fwell in Dithyrambus. Undifmay'd, He grappled with his foe, and inftant feiz'd His threat'ning fpear, before th' uplifted arm Could execute the meditated wound. The weapon burft between their ftruggling grafp. Their hold they loofen, bare their fhining (words. With equal fwiftnefs to defend, or charge, Each active youth advances and recedes. On ev'ry fide they traverfe. Now direct, Obliquely now the wheeling blades defcend. Still is the conflict: dubious; when the Greek, Diflembling, points his falchion to the ground, His arm deprefling, as o'ercome by toil : While with his buckler cautious he repels The blows, repeated by his active foe. Greece trembles for her hero. Joy pervades The ranks of Afia ; Hyperanthes itrides Before the line, preparing to receive liis friend triumphant : while the wary Greek Calm and defenfi ve bears th' affault. At laft, As by th' incautious fury of his ftrokes, The Perfian fwung his cov'ring fhield afide, The fatal moment Dithyrambus feiz'd. J.ight darting forward with his feet outftretch'd, Between th' unguarded ribs he plung'd his fteel. Affection, grief, and terror, wing the fpeed Of Hyperanthes. From his bleeding foe The Greek retires, not diftant, and awaits The Perfian prince. But he with wat'ry cheeks In fpeechlefs anguifh clafps his dying friend ; From whofe cold lip with inter ruptedphrafc

Thefe accents break : O dearelT, beft of men ! Ten thoufand thoughts of gratitude and love Are ftruggling in my heart O'erpow'ring fate. Denies my voice the utt'rance O my friend !

Hyperanthes ! Hear my tongue unfold. What, had I liv'd, thou never fhouid'ft have

known.

1 lov'd thy fifter. With defpair 1 lov'd.. Soliciting this honourable doom, Without regret in Perfia's fight and thine I fall. Th' inexorable hand of fate

Weighs down his eyelids, and the gloom of death His fleeting light eternally o'erfhades. Him on Choafpes o'er the blooming verge A frantic mother fhall bewail ; fhall ftrevr Her filver treffes in the cryftal wave : While all the fhores re-echo to the name Of Teribazus loft. Th' afflicted prince, Contemplating in tears the pallid corfe, Vents in thefe words the bitternefs of grief:

Oh, Teribazus ! Oh ! my friend, whofe loft I will deplore for ever. Oh ! what pow'r, By me, by thce offended, clos'd thy breaft To Hyperanthes in diftruft unkind ! She fhould, fhe muft have lov'd thee Now n

more

Thy placid virtues, thy inftructive tongue Shall drop their fweetnefs on my fecret hours. But in complaints doth friendfhip wafte the time, Which to immediate vengeance fhould be giv'n.

He ended, rufhing furious on the Greek ; Who while his gallant enemy expir'd, While Hyperanthes tenderly received The laft embraces of his gafping friend, Stood nigh, reclin'd in fadnefs on his fhicld, And in the pride of victory repin'd. Unmark'd, his foe approach'd. Eutforward fprun* Diomedon. Before the Thefpian youth Aloft he rais'd his targe, and loudly thus :

Hold thee Barbarian, from a life more worth, Than thou and Xerxes with his hoft of flaves.

His words he feconds with his rapid lance.. Soon a tremendous conflict had enfu'd; But Intaphernes, Mindus, and a crowd Of Perfian lords, advancing, fill the fpace Betwixt th' encount'ring chiefs. In mutual wrath. With fiuitlefs efforts they attempt the fight. So rage two bulls along th' oppofing banks Of fome deep flood, which parts the fruitful mead. Defiance thunders from their angry mouths In vain. in vain the furrow'd fod they rend ; Wide rolls the ftream, and intercepts the war. -

As by malignant fortune, if a drop Of moifture mingles with a burning mafs Of liquid metal, inftant fhow'rs of death On ev'ry fide th' exploding fluid fpreads; So difappointment irritates the flame Of fierce Platsea's chief, whofe vengeance burfts In wide deftruction. Embas, Daucus fall, Arfaeus, Ochos, Mend us, Artias die ; And ten moft hardy of th' immortal guard, To fhivers breaking on rhe Grecian fhield Vheir gold-embellifh'd weapons, raife a mound O'er thy pale body, O in prime deftroy'd, Of Afia's gardtn once the fai eft plant, Fall'n Teribazus ! 'I hy diftracted friend From this thy temporary tomb is dragg'd By forceful zeal of fcuraps to the fhorc ;

THE WORKS OF OLOVEft.

W^here then the brave Abrocomes arranged The fuccours new, by Abradates brought, Orontes and Mazaeus. Turning fvvift, Abrocomes inform'd his brother thus :

Strong reinforcement from th' immortal guard Pandates bold to Intaphernes leads, In charge to harafs by perpetual toil Thofe Grecians next the mountain. Thou unite To me thy valour : Here the hoftile ranks Lefs ftable feem. Our joint impreflion try ; Let all the weight of battle here impend. Roufe, Hyperanthes. Give regret to winds. Who hath not loft a friend this direful day ? Let not our private cares affift the Greeks, Too ftrong already ; or let forrow aft : Mourn and revenge. Thefe animating words Send Hyperanthes to the foremoft line : His vengeful ardour leads. The battle joins.

Who ftemm'd this tide of onfet ? Who imbru'd Hisfhining fpear the firft in Perfian blood ? Eupalamus. Artembares he flew, "With Derdas fierce, whom Caucafus had rear'd On his tempefluousbrow, the favage fons Of violence and rapine. But their doom Tires Hyperanthes, whofe vindictive blade Arrefts the victor in his haughty courfe. Beneath the ftrong Abrocomes o'erwhelm'd, Meliffus fwells the number of the dead. None could Mycense boaft of prouder birth, Than young Meliffus, who in filver mail The line embellifh'd. He in Cirrha's mead, Where high Parnaffus from his double top O'erfhades the Pythian gams, the envy'd prize Of fame ebtain'd. Low finks his laureli'd head In death's cold night ; and horrid gore deforms The graceful hair. Impatient to revenge Ariftobulus ftrides before the van. A ftorm of fury darkens all his brow. Around he rolls his gloomy eye. For death Is Alyattes naark'd, of regal blood, Deriv'd from Croefus, once imperial lord Of nations. Him the nymphs of Halys wept ; "When, with delufive oracles beguil'd By Delphi's god, he pafs'd their fatal waves A mighty empire to diffolve : nor knew Th' ill-deftin'd prince, thatenvkms fortune watch'c That direful moment from his hand to wreft The fceptre of his fathers. In the fhade Of humble life, his race on Timolus' brow Lay hid ; till, rous'd to battle, on this field Sinks Alyattes, and a royal breed, In him extinct forever. Lycis dies, Fox boift'rous v/ar ill-chofen. He was fkill'd To tune the lulling flute, and melt the heart; Or with his pipe's awak'ning ftrain allure The lovely dames of Lydia to the dance. They on the verdant level graceful mov'd In vary'd meafures ; while the cooling bree7e Beneath their fwelling garments wanton'd o'er Their fnowy breads, and fmooth Cayfter's ftream Soft-gliding, murmur' d by. The hoftile blade Draws forth his entrails. Prone he falls. Not Ion The victor triumphs. From the proftrate corfe Of Lycis, while, infulting, he extracts The reeking weapon, Hyperanthes' fteel Invades his knee, and cuts the finewy cords, The Mycenxans with uplifted fhields, Corinthians and Phliafians clofe around

'he wounded chieftain. In redoubled rage 'he conteft glows. Abrocomes incites ,ach noble Perfian. Each his voic'e obeys, lere Abradates, there Mazaeus prefs, rontes and yydarnes. None retire rom toil, or peril. Urg'd on ev'ry fidd, Mycenae's band to fortune leave their chief. )efpairing, raging, deftitute he ftands, 'ropt on his fpear. His wound forbids retreat.

e but his brother, Eumenes, abides The dire extremity. His ftudded orb s held defenfive. On his arm the fword )f Hyperanthes rapidly defcends. Down drops the buckler, and the fever'd hand ~ efigns its hold. The unprotected pair Jy Afia's hero to the ground are fwept ; A.S to a reaper crimfon poppies low'r Their heads luxuriant on the yellow plain. "rom both their breads the vital currents flow, And mix their ftreams. Elate the Perfians pour ['heir numbers, deep'ning on the foe difmay'd. The Greeks their ftation painfully maintain. This Anaxander faw, whofe faithlefs tongue riis colleague Leontiades befpake :

The hour is come to ferve our Perfian friends. Behold, the Greeks are prefs'd. Let Thebes retire, A bloodlefs conqueft yielding to the king.

This faid, he drew his Thebans from their poft, $ot with unpunifh'd treachery. The lance Of Abradates gor'd their foul retreat ;

r knew the Afian chief, that Afia's friends Before him bled. Meantime, as mighty Jove, Or he more ancient on the throne of heav'n, When from the womb of Chaos dark the world Emerg'd to birth, where'er he view'd the jar Of atoms yet difcordant and unform'd, Confufion thence with pow'rful voice difpell'd,

ill light and order univerfalreign'd ; So from the hill Leonidasfurvey'd The various war. He faw the Theban rout ; That Corinth, Phlius and Mycenae look'd Affrighted backward. Inftantly his charge Is borne by Maroa, whom obedience wings, Precipitating down the facred cave, That Sparta's ranks, advancing, fhould repair The difunited phalanx. Ere they move, Dieneces infpires them. Fame, my friends, Calls forth your valour in a fignal hour. For you this glorious crifis fhe referv'd Laconia's fplendour to affert. Young man, Son of Megiftias, follow. He conducts Th' experienc'd troop. They lock their fhields,

and, wedg'd

In denfe arrangement, repoffefs the void, Left by the faithlefs Thebans, and repulfe Th' exulting Perfians. When, with efforts vain, Thefe oft renew'd the conteft, and recoil'd, As oft confounded with diminifh'd ranks ; Lo ! Hyperanthes blufh'd, repeating late The words of Artemifia. Learn, O chiefs, The only means of glory and fuccefs. Unlike the others, whom we newly chas'd, Thefe are a band felected from the Greeks, Perhaps the Spartans, whom we often hear By Demaratus prais'd. To break their line In vain \v,e ftruggle, unarray'd and lax, Depriv'd of union. Do not we prefiae OVr Afia's armies, and our courage boaft,

L E O N 1 D A S.

Our martini art above the vulgar nerd ? Let us, ye chiefs, attempt in order 'd ranks To form a troop, and emulate the foe.

They wait not dubious. On the Malian fhore In gloomy depth a column foon is form'd Of all the nobles, Abradates ftrong, Orontesbold, Mazxus, and the might Of brave Abrocomes, with each, who bofe The higheft honours, and excell'd in arms; Themfelvcs the lords of nations, who before The throne of Xerxes tributary bow'd. To thefe fucceed a chofen number, drawn From Afia's legions, vaunted moft in fight ; Who from their kind perpetual {Upends (hare ; "VVho, ftation'd round the provinces, by force His tyranny uphold. In ev'ry part Is Hyperanthes active, ardent feen Throughout the huge battalion. He adjufts Their equal range, then cautious, left on march Their unaccuftom'd order fhould relax, Full in the centre of the foremoft rank Orontes plants, committing to his hand Th' imperial ftandard ; whofe expanded folds Glow'd in the air, presenting to the fun The richefl dye of Tyre. The royal bird Amid the gorgeous tincture fhone exprefs'd In high embroider'd gold. The wary prince On this confpicuous, leading fign of war Commands each fatrap, ported in the van, To fix his eye regardful, to direct By this alone his even pace and flow, Retiring, or advancing. So the ftar, Chief of the fpangles on that fancy'd bear, Once an Idxan nymph, and nurfe of Jeve, Bright Cynofura to the Boreal pole Attracts the Tailor's eye ; when diftance hides The headland fignals, and her guiding ray, New-ris'n, fhe throws. The hero next appoints, That ev'ry warrior through the length'ning files, Obferving none but thofe before him plac'd, . Shall watch their motion^, and their fteps purfue. !Nor is th' important thicket next the pafs Forgot. Two thoufand of th' immortal guard That ftation feize. His orders all perform'd, Clofe by the ftandard he afTumes his poft. Intrepid thence he animates his friends.

Heroic chieftains, whofe unconquer'd force Rebellious Egypt, and the Libyan felt, Think what the fplendour of your former deeds From you exacts. Remember, from the great Illultrious actions are a debt to lame No middle path remains for them to tread, "Whom fhe hath once ennobled. Lo ! this day By trophies new will fignalize your names, Or in difhonour will for ever cloud.

He faid, and vig'rous all to fight proceed. As when tempefluous Eurus ftenis the weight Of wcfteru Neptune, ftruggling through the

ftreights,

\Vhich bound Alcides' labours, here the ftorm "With rapid wing reverberates the tide; There the contending furge with furrow'd tops To mouritainsjfwells, and, whelming o'er the beach On either coaft, impels the hoary fuam On Mauritanian and Iberian ftrands : Such is the dreadful onfet. Perfia keeps Her foremoft ranks unbroken, which are fill'd By chofen warriors ; while the num'rous crowd,

Though ftill promifcuous pouring from behind, Give weight and preffure to th' embattled chiefs, Defpifing danger. Like the mural ftrength Of fome proud city, bulwark'd round, and arm'dl With rifing tow'rs to guard her wealthy ftores Immoveable, impenetrable flood Laconia's ferry 'd phalanx. In their face Grirn tyranny her threat'ning fetters fhakes, Red havoc grinds infatiable his jaws. Greece is behind, intrufting to their fword* Her laws, her freedom, and the facred urns Of their forefathers. Prefent now to thought Their altars rife, the manfions of their birth, Whate'er they honour, venerate, and love.

Bright in the Perfian van th' exalted lance Of Hyperanthes flam'd. Befide him prefs'd Abrocomes, Hydarnes, and the bulk Of Abradates terrible in war. Firm, as a Memphian pyramid, was feeh Dieneces ; while Agis clofe in rank With Menalippus, and the added ftrength Of dauntlefs Maron, their connected fhields Upheld. Each unrelax'd array maintains The conflict undecided ; nor could Greece Repel the adverfe numbers, nor the weight Of Afia's band felect remove the Greeks.

Swift from Laconia's king, perceiving foon The Perfian's new arrangement, Medon flew,, Who thus the ftaid Dieneces addrefs'd :

Leonidas commands the Spartan ranks To meafure back fome paces. Soon, he deems, The unexperienced foes in wild purfuit Will break their order. Then the charge renevr.

This heard, the fignal of retreat is giv'n. The Spartans feem to yield. The Perfians flop, Aftonifhment reftrains them, and the doubt Of unexpected victory. Their floth Abrocomes awakens. By the fun They fly before us. My victorious friends, Do you delay to enter Greece. Away, Rum on intrepid. I already hear Our horfe, our chariots, thund'ring on her plains* I fee her temples wrapt in Perfian fires.

He fpake. In hurry'd violence they roll Tumultuous forward. All in headlong pace Disjoin their order, and the line diflblve. This when the fage Dieneces defcrics, The Spartans halt, returning to the charge With fudden vigour. In a moment pierc'd By hisrefiftlefs fteel, Orontes falls, And quits th' imperial banner. This the chief In triumph waves. The Spartans prefs the foe. Clofe-wedg'd and fquare, in flow, progreflive pace, O'er heaps of mangled carcafes and arms Invincible they tread. Compofing flutes Each thought, each motion harmonize. No rage Untunes their fouls. The phalanx yet more deep Of Medon follows ; while the lighter bands Glide by the flanks, and reach the broken foe. Amid their flight what vengeance from the arm. Of Alpheus falls ? O'er all in fwift purfuit Was he renown'd. His active feet had match'd The fon of Peleus in the dufty courfe ; But now the wrongs, the long-remember'd wrongs Of Polydorus animate his ftrength With tenfold vigour. Like th' empurpled moon, When in eclipfe her Giver difk hath loft The wonted light, his buckler's polijh'd face

WORKS OF GLOVER.

Is no\v oVcurM ; the figur'd bofles drop

Jn crimfon, fpouting from his deathful ftrokes.

As, when with horror wing'd, a whirlwind rends

A fhatter'd navy; from the ocean- cafl,

Enormous fragments hide the level beach }

Such as dejedted Perfia hte beheld

On Theflaly's unnavigable ftrand :

Thus o'er the champain fatraps lay beftrewn

By Alpheus, perfevering in purfuit

Beyond the pafs. Not Phoebus could inflict

On Niobe more vengeance, when, incens'd >

By her maternal arrogance, which fcorn'd

Latona's race, he twang'd his ireful bow,

And one by one from youth and beauty hurl'd

Her fons to Fluto ; nor feverer pangs

That mother felt, than pierc'd the gen'raus foul

Of Hyperanthes, while his nobleft "friends <

On ev'ry fide lay gafping. With defpair

He ftill contends. Th' immortals from their {land

Behind th' entangling thicket next the pafs.

His fignal roufes. Ere they clear their way,

\Vell-caution'd Medon from the clofe defile

Two thoufand Locrians pours. An afpect new

The fight affumes. Through implicated ihrubs

Confufion waves each banner. Falchions, fpears

And fhields are all encumber'd, till the Greeks

Had forc'd a paffage to the yielding foe.

Then Medon's arm is felt. The dreadful boar,

Wide-wafting once the Calydonian fields,

In fury breaking from Ins gloomy lair,

Rang'd with lefs havoc through unguarded folds,

Than Medon, fweeping down the glitt'ring files,

So vainly flyl'd immortal. From the cliff

Divine Meliffa, and Laconia's king,

Enjoy the glories of Oileus' fon.

Fierce Alpheus too, returning from his chafe,

Joins in the flaughter. Ev'ry Perfian falls.

To him the, Locrian chief. Braye Spartan,

thanks.

Through thee my purpofe is accomplifh'd full. ]Vly phalanx here with levell'd rows of fpears Shall guard the fhatter'd bufhes. Come what may From Afia's camp, th' affailant, fiank'd and driv'n Down yonder ilope, fhall perifh. Gods of Greece, You ihall behold your fanes profufely deck'd In fplendid off'rings from barbarian fpoils, Won by your free-born fupplicants this day. This faid, he forms his ranks. Their threat'ning

points Gleam through the thicket, whence the fhiv'ring

foes

Avert their fight, like paffengers difmay'd, Who on their courfe by Nile's portentous banks Defcry in ambufh of perfidious reeds The crocodile's fell teeth. Contiguous lay Thermopyke. Dieneces fecur'd The narrow mouth. Two lines the Spartans

fhow'd,

One tow'rds the plain obferv'd the Perfian camp ; One, led by Agis, fac'd th' interior pafs.

Not yet difcourag'd, Hyperanthes drives The fcatter'd hoft to rally. He exhorts. Entreats, at length indignant thus exclaims.

Degen'rate Perfians ! to fepulchral duft Could breath return, your fathers from the tomb Would utter groans. Inglorious, do ye' leave Behind you Perfia's ftandard to adorn Some Grecian temple ? Can your fplendid cars,

Voluptuous couches, and delicious board's, Your gold, your gems, ye fatraps, be preferv'd By cowardice and flight ? The eunuch flave Will fcorn fuch lords, your women lothe your beds.

Few hear him, fewer follow ; while the fight His unabating courage oft renews, As oft repuls'd with danger : till, by all Deferted, mixing in the gen'ral rout, He yields to fortune, and regains the (Tamp* In fhort advances thus the dying tide Beats for a while againft the fhelving ftrand, Still by degrees retiring, and at laft Within the bofom of the main fubfides.

Though Hyperanthes from the fight was driv'n, Clofe to the mountain, whofe indented fide There gave the widen'd pafs an ample fpace For numbers to embattle, ftill his poft Bold Intaphernes underneath a cliff Againft the firm Platsan line maintain'd. On him look'd down Leonidas like death, When, from his iron cavern call'd by Jove, He ftands gigantic on a mountain's head ; Whence he commands th' affrighted earth to quake, And, crags and forefts in his direful grafp, High-wielding, dafhes on a town below, Whofe deeds of black impiety provoke The long-enduring gods. Around the verge Of Oeta, curving to a crefcent's fhape, The marbles, timbers, fragments, lay amafs'd. The Helots, peafants, mariners, attend In order nigh Leonidas. They watch His look. He gives the fignal. Rous'd at once The force, the (kill, activity and zeal Of thoufands are combin'd. Down rufh the piles. Trees, roll'd on trees, with mingled reck defcend, Unintermitted ruin. Loud refound The hollow trunks againft the mountain's fide. Swift bounds each craggy mafs. The foes below Look up aghaft, in horror fhrink and die. Whole troops, d'erwhelm'd beneath th' enormous

load,

Lie hid and loft, as never they had known A name or being. Intaphernes clad In regal fplendour, progeny of kings, Who rul'd Damafcus, and the Syrian palms, Here flept for ever. Theufands of his train In that broad fpace the ruins had not reach'd; Back to their camp a paffage they attempt Through Lacedemon's line. Them Agis ftopp'd. Before his powerful arm Pandates fell, Sofarmes, Tachos. Menalippns dy'd His youthful fteel in blood. The mightier fpear Of Maron pierc'd battalions, and enlarg'd The track of flaughter. Backward turn'd the rout, Nor found a milder fate. Th' unweary'd fwords Of Dithyramb us and Diomedon, Who from the hill are wheeling on their flank, Still flafh tremendous. To the^fhore they fly, At once envelop'd by fucceflive bands Of diff 'rent Grecians. From the gulf profound Perdition here inevitable frowns, While there, encircled by a grove of fpears, They fland devoted hecatombs to Mars. Now not a moment's interval delays Their gen'ral doom ; but down the Malian fteep Prone are they hurry'd to th' expanded arms Of horror, rifing from the oozy deep,

L E O N I D A S.

5*5

And grafping all their numbers as they fall.

The dire confufion like a ftorm invades

The chafing furge. Whole troops Bellona rolls

In one vaft ruin from the craggy ridge.

O'er all their arms, their enfigns, deep-ingulf 'd,;

With hideous roar the waves for ever clofc.

BOOK IX.

THE ARGUMENT.

NIGHT coming on, the Grecians retire to their tents. A guard is placed on the Phocian wall under the command of Agis. He admits into the camp a lady, accompanied by a fingle Have, and conduces them to Leonidas; when fhe dif- covers herfelf to be Ariana, fifter of Xerxes and Hyperanthes, and fues for the body of Teriba- zus ; which being found among the flain, fhe kills herfelf upon it. The flave who attended her proves to be Polydorus, brother to Alpheus and Maron, and who had been formerly carried into captivity by a Phoenician pirate. He re lates, before an affembly of the chiefs, a mef- lage from Demaratus to the Spartans, which difclofcs the treachery of the Thcbans, and of Epialtes, the Malian, who had undertaken to lead part of the Perfiau army through a pafs amoung the mountains of Oeta. 1'his informa tion throws the council into a great tumult, which is pacified by Leonidas, who fends Al pheus to obferve the motions of thefe Perfians, and Dieneces with a party of Lacedemonians to iupport the Phocians, with whom the defence of thefe paflages in the hills had been intrufted. In the mean time, Agis fends the bodies of Te- ribazus and Ariana to the camp of Xerxes.

IN fable vefture, fpangled o'er with flars,

The night affum'd her throne. Recall'd from

war,

Their toil, protracted long, the Greeks forget, Diflblv'd in Clent (lumber all, but thofe Who watch th' uncertain perils of the dark, A hundred warriors. AgU was their chief. High on the wall intent the hero fat. Frcfh winds a.crofs the undulating bay From Ada's hoil the various din convey 'd In one deep murmur, fwelling on his ear. "When by the found of footfteps down the pafs Alarm'd, he '"alls aloud. What feet are thefe Which beat * s echoing pavement of the rock ? Reply, nor tempt inevitable fate.

A \roice reply'd. No enemies we come, But crave admittance in an humble tone.

The Spartan anfwers. Through the midnight

ihade \Vhat purpofe draws your wand'ring fteps abroad?

To whom the flranger. We are friends to

Greece.

Through thy afliflance we implore accefs To Lacedemon's king. The cautious Greek Still hefitates; when mufically ivveet A tender voice his wond'ring- ear allures.

O gen'rous warrior, liilen to the pray'r Of one difcrefs'd, whom grief alone hath led Through midnight fliades to thefe victorious tents, ji wretched woman, innocent of fraud.

In courteous phrafe began the chief hi Exalted fair, whofe form adorns tht

The chief, defcending, through th' unfolded

gates

Upheld a flaming torch. The light difclos'd One firft in fcrvile garments. Near his fide A woman graceful and majeflic flood, Not with an afpecl, rivalling the pow'r Of fatal Helen, or th' enfnaring charms Of love's foft queen, but fuch as far furpafs'd, Whate'er the lily, blending with the rofc, Spreads on the cheek of beauty foon to fade ; Such as cxprefs'd a mind Ijy wifdom rul'd, By fvveetnefs temper 'd ; virtue's puieil light Illumining the countenance divine : Yet could not foften rig'rous fate, nor charm Malignant fortune to icvere the good ; Which oft with anguifli rends a fpotlefs heart, And oft aflbciates wifdom with defpair.

iUmanc. ie night.

Forbear to blame the vigilance of war. My flow compliance to the rigid laws Of Mars impute. In me no longer paufe Shall from the prefeuce of our king withhold This thy .apparent dignity and worth.

Here ending, he conduces her. At the call Of his lov'd brother from his couch arofe Leonidas. In wonder he furvey'd Th' illuftrious virgin, whom his prefencc aw'd. Her eye fubmiflive to the ground dcclin'd In veneration of the godlike man. His mien, his voice, her anxious dread difpel, Benevolent and hofpitable thus.

Thy looks, fair ftranger, amiable and great, A mind delineate, which from all commands Supreme regard. Relate, thou noble came, By what relentlefs deftiny compell'd, Thy tender feet the paths of darknefs tread ; Rehearfe th' afflictions, whence thy virtue mourn*.

On her wan cheek a fudden blufli arofe Like day, firft dawning on the twilight pale ; When, wrapt in grief, thefe words a paiTage fount*

If to be moil unhappy, and to know That hope is irrecoverably fled ; If to be great and wretched may deferve Commifcration from the brave ; behoid, Thou glorious leader of unconquer'd bands* Behold, defcended from Darius' loins, *

Th' afflicted Ariana ; and my pray'r Accept with pity, nor my tears difdain. Firfl, that I lov'd the bell of human race, Heroic, wife, adorn'd by ev'ry art, Of fhame unconfcious doth my heart reveal. This day, in Grecian arms conipicuous clad, He fought, he fell. A paflion, long conceal' d, For me, alas ! within my brother's arms His dying breath reiigning, he difclos'd. Oh ! 1 will ftay my furrows ! will forbid My eyes to ftream before thee, and my breaft, O'erwhelm'd by anguifli, will from fighs reftrain I For why fhould thy humanity be gricv'd At my diilrefs ? why learn from me to mourn The lot of mortals, doom'd to pain and woe. Hear then, O king, and grant my fole requeft, To feek his body in the heaps of flain.

Thus to the hero fu'd the royal maid, Refembling Cer.es in majeftic woe, When fupplicating Jove from Stygian glootn, And Pluto's black embraces to redeem

5*5

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Her lov'd and loft Froferpina. A while

On Ariana fixing ftedfaft eyes,

Thefe tender thoughts Leonidas recall'd.

Such are thy forrows, O for ever dear, Who now at Lacedemon doft deplore My everlafting abfence. Then afide He turn'd and figh'd. Recov'ring, he addrefs'd His brother. Moft beneficent of men, Attend, aflift this princefs. Night retires Before the purple-winged morn. A band Is call'd. The well- remember 'd fpot they find, "Where Teribazus from his dying hand Dropt in their fight his formidable fword. Soon from beneath a pile of Afian dead They draw the hero, by his armour known.

Then, Ariana, what tranfcending pangs Were thine ! what horrors ! In thy tender breafl Love flill was mightieft, On the bofom cold Of Teribazus, grief-diftracted maid, Thy beauteous limbs were thrown. Thy fnowy

hue

The clotted gore disfigur'd. On his wounds Loofe flow'd thy hair ; and, bubbling from thy

eyes,

Impetuous'forrow lav'd th' empurpled clay. When forth in groans thefe lamentations broke.

O torn for ever from thefe weeping eyes ! Thou, whoydefpairing to obtain a heart, Which then moft lov'd thee, didll untimely yield Thy life to fate's inevitable dart For her, who now in agony reveals Her tender paflion, who repeats her vows To thy deaf ear, who fondly to her own Unites thy cheek infenfible and cold. Alas ! do thofe unmoving, ghaftly orbs Perceive my guftung forrow ! Can that heart At my complaint diffolve the ice of death To fhare my fuff' rings ! Never, never more Shall Ariana bend a lift'ning car To thy enchanting eloquence, nor feaft Her mind on wifdom from thy copious tongue ! Oh ! bitter, infurmauntable diftrels !

She could no more. Invincible defpair Supprefs'd all utt'rance. As a marble form, Fix'd on the folemn fepulchre, inclines The fiJent head in imitated woe O'er fome dead hero, whom his country lov'd ; Fntranc'd by anguifh, o'er the breathlefs clay So hung the princefs. On the gory breach, Whence life had iffu'd by the fatal blow, !M ute for a fpace and motionlefs {he gaz'd ; When thus in accents firm. Imperial pomp, Foe to my quiet, take my laft farewell. There is a ftate, where only virtue holds The rank fupreme. My Teribazus there From his high order muft defcend to mine.

Then with no trembling hand, no change of

look,

She drew a poniard, which her garment veil'd ; And inftant (heathmg in her heart the blade, On her flain lover filent funk in death. The unexpected ftroke prevents the care Of Agis, pierc'd by horror and diftrefs, Like one, who, (landing on a ftormy beach, Beholds a found'ring veflel, by the deep At once engulf 'd ; his pity feels and mourns, Depriv'd of pow'r to fave : fo Agis view'd The prcllrate pa jr. Hs dropp'd a tear, ar.d thus.

Oh ! much lamented ! Heavy on' your heacfo Hath evil fall'n, which o'er your pale remains Commands this forrow from a ftranger's eye. Illuftrious ruins ! May the grave impart That peace which life deny'd ! and now receive This pious office from a hand Unknown.

He fpake, unclafping from his moulders broad His ample robe. He ftrew'd the waving folds O'er each wan vifage, turning then, addrela'd The (lave, in mate dejeclion ftanJing near.

Thou, who attendant on this haplefs fair, Haft view'd this dreadful fpeciacle, return. Thefe bleeding relics bear to Perfia's king, Thou with four captives, whom I free from bonds*

Art thou a Spartan, interrupts the flave ? Doft thou command me to return, and pine In climes unblefs'd by liberty, or laws ? Grant me to fee Leonidas. Alone Let him decide, if wretched, as I feem, I may not claim protection from this camp.

Whbe'er thou art, rejoins the chief, amaz'tl, But not offended, thy ignoble garb Conceal'd a fpirit, which I now revere. Thy countenance demands a better lot Than I, a ftranger to thy hidden worth, Unconfcious offer'd. Freedom dwells in Greece, Humanity and juftice. Thou {halt fee Leonidas their guardian. To the king He leads him ftraight, prefents him in thefe words.

In mind fuperior to the bafe attire, Which marks his limbs with fhame, a ftranger

comes, Who thy protection claims. The flave fubjoins.

1 ftand thy fuppliant now. Thou foon {halt

learn,

If I deferve thy favour. I requeft To meet th' affembled chieftains of this hoft. Oh ! I am fraught with tidings, which import The weal of ev'ry Grecian. Agis, fwift, Appointed by Leonidas, convenes The diff'rent leaders. To the tent they fpeed. Before thtm call'd, the ftranger thus began.

O Alpheus ! Maron ! Hither turn your fight, And know your brother. From their feats they

ftart.

From either breaks in ecftafy the name Of Polydorus. To his dear embrace Each fondly ftrives to rum; but he withftands: While down his cheek a flood of anguifh pours From his dejected eyes, in torture bent On that vile garb, difhonouring his form. At length tht-fe accents, intermix'd with groans, A paflage found, while mute attention gaz'd.

You firft fhould know, if this unhappy flave Yet merits your embraces. Then approach'd Leonidas. Before him all recede, Ev'n Alpheus' felt, and yields his brother's hand, Which in his own the regal hero prefs'd. Still Polydorus on his gloomy front Repugnance ftern to confolation bore ; When thus the king with majefty benign.

Lo ! ev'ry heart is open to thy worth. Injurious fortune, and enfeebling time, By fervitude and grief feverely try A lib'ral fpirit. Try'd, but not fubdu'd. Do thou appear. Whatever be our lot, Is Heav'n's appointment. Patience befl becomes The citizen and folclier. Let the fight

I

LEONIDAS.

Of friends and brethren difllpate thy gloom.

Of men the gentlcft, Agis too advanc'd, Who with increas'd humanity began.

Now is thy native liberty fecure, Smile on thy pafs'd affliction, and relate What chance reftores thy merit to the arms Of friends and kindred. Polydorus then.

I was a Spartan. When my tender prime On manhood border'd, from Laconia's fhores, Snatch'd by Phoenician pirates, I was fold A flave, by Hyperanthes bought, and giv'ii To Ariana. Gracious was her hand. But I remain'd a bondman, flill eftrang'd From Lacedemon. Demaratus oft In friendly forrow would my lot deplore ; Nor lefs his own ill-fated virtue mourn'd, Loft to his country in a fervilc court, The centre of corruption ; where in fmiles Are painted envy, treachery, and hate, With rankling malice ; where alone fincere The diflblute feek no difguife : where thofc, Poflefling all, a monarch can beftow, Are far lefs happy, than the meanefl heir To freedom, far more grovelling than the flave, Who ferves their cruel pride. Yet here the fun Ten times his yearly circle hath renew'd, Since Polydorus hath in bondage groan'd. My bloom is pafs'd, or, pining in defpair, Untimely wither'd. I at laft return A mcflenger of fate, who tidings bear Of delegation. Here he paus'd in grief Redoubled ; when Leonidas. Proceed. Should from thy b'ps inevitable death To all be threaten'd, thou art heard by none, Whofe dauntlefs hearts can entertain a thought, But how to fall the nobleft. Thus the king. The reft in fpeechlefs expectation wait. Such was the folemn filence, which o'erfpread The fhrine of Ammon, or Dodona's (hades, When anxious mortals from the mouth of Jove Their doom explor'd. Nor Polydorus long Sufpends the counfel, but relumes his tale.

As I this night accompany 'd the fteps Of Ariana, near the pafs we faw A reftlefs form, now traverfiug the way, Now as a ftatue, ri vetted by doubt, Then on a fudden darting, to renew An eager pace. As nearer we approached, He by the moon, which glimmGr'd on our heads, Defcry'd us. Straight advancing, whither bent Our midnight courfe, he afk'd. I knew the voice Of Demaratus. To my breatt I clafp'd The venerable exile, and reply'd. Luconia's camp we feek. Demand no more. Farewell. He wept. Be heav'n thy guide, he faid, Thrice happy Polydorus. Thou again May'ft vim Sparta, to thefe eyes deny'd. Soon as arriv'd at thofe triumphant tents, Say to the Spartans from their exil'd king, Although their blind credulity depriv'd The wretched Demaratus of his home ; From ev'ry joy fecluded, from his wife, liis offspring torn, his countrymen, and friends, Him from his virtue they could ne'er divide. Say, that ev'n here, where all are kings, or Haves, Amid the riot of flagitious courts, Not quite extinct his Spartan fpirit glows, Though grief huth dimm'd its fires. Remembering

Report, that newly to the Perfian holt

Return'd a Malian, Epialtes nam'd,

Who, as a fpy, the Grecian tents had fought.

He to the monarch maguify'd his art,

Which by delufive eloquence had wrought

The Greeks to fuch defpair ; that ev'ry band

To Perfia's fov'reign flandard would have bow'd ;

Had not the fpirit of a fingle chief,

By fear unconquer'd, and on death refolv'd,

Reftor'd their valour : therefore would the king

Trufl to his guidance a felected force,

They foon fhould pierce th' unguarded bounds of

Greece

Through a negle<5led aperture above, Where no Leonidas mould bar their way : Meantime by him the treach'rous Thebans fcnt Aflurance of their aid. Th' aflenting prince At once decreed two myriads to advance With Hyperanthes. Ev'ry lord belides, Whom youth, or courage, or ambition warm, Rous'd by the traitor's eloquence, attend From all the nations with a rival zeal To enter Greece the foremoft. In a figh He clos'd like me. Tremendous from his feat Uprofe Diomedon. His eye mere flames. When fwift on trembling Anaxander broke Thefe ireful accents from his livid lips.

Yet ere we fall, O traitor ! ihall this arm To hell's avenging furies fink thy head.

All now is tumult. Ev'ry bolbm fvvells With wrath untam'd, and vengeance. Half un-

ftieath'd,

Th' impetuous falchion of Platzea flames. But, as the Colchian forcerefs, renown'd In legends old, or Circe, when they fram'd A potcut fpell, to fmoothnefs charm'd the main, And lull'd ./Golian rage by myftic long ; - Till not a billow heav'd againft the fliore, Nor ev'n the wanton-winged zephyr breath'd The lightefl whifper through the magic air ; So when thy voice, Leonidas, is heard, Confufiou liftens ; ire in filent awe Sublldes. Withhold this rafhnefs, cvies the king. To proof of guilt let punifhment fucceed. Not yet barbarian fhouts our camp alarm. We ftill have time for vengeance, time to know. If menac'd ruin we may yet repel, Or how moft glorious perifh. Next arofe Dicneces, and thus th' experienc'd man.

Ere they furmount our fences, Xerxes' troop* Muft learn to conquer, and the Greeks to fly. The fpears of Phocis guard that fecret nafs. To them let inltant mefiengers depart, And note the hollile progrefs. Alpheus here.

Leonidas, behold ! my willing feet Shall to the Phocians bear thy high commands j Shall climb the hill to watch th* approaching foe.

Thou active fon of valour, quick returns The chief of Lacedemon, in my thoughts For ever prefent, when the public weal Requires the fwift, the vigilant, and bold. Go climb, furmount the rock's aerial height. Obferve the hoftile march. A Spartan band, Dieneces, provide. Thyfelf conduct Their fpeedy fuccour to our Phocian friends.

The council rifes. For his courfe prepar'd, While day, declining, prompts his eager feet, O Polydorus ! Alpheus thus in hafte, Long loft, and late recover'dj we rnuft part

5**

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Again, perhaps for ever. Thou return To kifs the facred foil which gave thee birth, And calls thee back to freedom. Brother dear,. I fhould have fighs to give thee but farewell. x My country chides me, loit'ring in thy arms.

This faid, he darts along, nor looks behind, When Polydorus anfwers. Alpheus ; no. - 1 have the marks of bondage to eraze. My blood muft wafh the ihameful ftain away.

We have a father, Maron interpos'd. Thy unexpected prefence will revive Has heavy age, now childlefs and forlorn.

To him the brother with a gloomy frown. Ill fhould I comfort others. View thefe eyes. Faint is their light ; and vanifh'd was my bloom Before its hour of ripenefs. In my breaft Grief will retain a manfion, nor by time Be difpoflefs'd. Unceafing mall my foul Brood o'er the black remembrance of my youth, In flavery exhaufted. Life to me Hath loft its favour. Then in fullen woe His head declines. His brother pleads in vain.

Now in his view Dieneces appear'd With Sparta's band. Immoveable his eyes On them he fix'd, revolving thefe dark thoughts.

I too, like them, from Lacedemon fpring, Like them inftructed once to poife the fpear, To lift the pond'rous fhicld. 111-deftin'd wretch! Thy arm is grown enervate, and would fink Beneath a buckler's weight. Malignant fates! Who have compell'd my free-born hand to change The warrior's arms for ignominious bonds ; Would you compenfate for my chains, my fhame, My ten years anguifh, and the fell deipair, Which on my youth have prey'd ; relenting once, Grant I may bear my buckler to the fidd, And, known. a Spartan, feek the (hades below.

Why, to be known a Spartan, mufi thou feck The fhades below ? Impatient Maron, fpake. Live, and be known a. partan by thy deeds; Live, and enjoy thy dignity of birth ; Live, and perform the duties which become A citizen of Sj>arta. Still thy bro.w Frowns gloomy, ftill unyielding. He, who leads Our band, ail fathers of a noble race, Will ne'er permit thy barren day to clofe Without an offspring to uphold the flate.

He will, replies the brother ip a glow, Prevailing o'er the palenefs of his cheek, He will permit me to complete by death The meafure of my duty ; will permit Me to achieve a fervice, which no hand But mine rf.n render, to adorn his fall With double luflre, ftrike the barb'rous foe Withendlefs terror, and avenge the fhame Of an enflav'd Laconian. Clofing here His words myiterious, quick he turn'd away To find the tent of Agis.. There his hand In gratejul forrow minifter'd her aid ; While the humane, the hofpitable care. Of Agis, gently by her lover's corfe On one fad bier the pallid beauties laid. Of Ariana. lie from bondage freed Four eaflern captives, whom hisgen'rous arm That day had fpar'd in battle ; then began This folemn charge. You, Perfians, whom my

fvvord Acquir'd' in war 3 unranfom'd, {hall denary

To you I render freedom, which you fought To wreft from me. One recompence I alk, And one alone. Tranfport to Afia's camp This bleeding princefs. Lid the Perfian king Weep o'er this flow'r, untimely cut in bloom. Then fay, th' all-juding pow'rs have thus ordain'd. Thou, whofe ambition o'er the groaning earth Leads defolatiqn ; o'er the nations fpreads Calamity and tears ; thou firft ihait mourn, And through thy houfe deftruction firil ihall range.

Difmifs'd, they gain the rampart, where on

guard

Was Dithyrambus pofted. He perceiv'd The mournful bier approach. To him the fate Of Ariana was already told. He met the captives with a moiften'd eye, Full bent on Teribazus, figh'd and fpake.

O that, affuming with thofe Grecian arms A Grecian fpirit, thou in fcorn hadft look'd On princes ! Worth like thine, from flavifh courts Withdrawn, had ne'er been wafted to fupport A king's injuilice. Then a gentler lot Had blefs'd thy life, or dying, thou hadft known How fweet is death for liberty. A Greek Affords thefe friendly wilhes, though his head Had loft the honours, gather'd from thy fall, When fortune favour'd, or propitious Jove Smil'd on the better caufe. Ill-fated pair, Whom in compafliori'spureft dew I lave, But that my hand infix'd the deathful wound, And muft be grievous to your lothing fhades, From all the neighb'ring valleys would I cull Their faireft growth, to ftrew your herfe with

flow'rs.

Yet, O accept thefe tears and pious pray'rs! May peace furround your afhes ! May your fhades Pafs o'er the filent pool to happier feats !

He ceas'd in tears. The captives leave the wall, And flowly down Thermopylae proceed.

BOOK X.

THE ARGUMENT.

MED ON convenes the Locrian commanders, and harangues them ; repairs at midnight to his fif- ter Meliffa in the temple, and receives from her the firft intelligence, that the Perfiaas were in actual pofftffion of the upper Streights, which which had been abandoned by the Phocians. Meliboeus brings her tidings of her father's death. She ftric~lly enjoins her brother to pre- ferve his life by a timely retreat, and recom mends the enforcement of her advice to the pru dence and zeal of Melibceus. In the morning the bodies of Teribazus and Ariana'are brought into the prefence of Xerxes, fopn after a report had reached the camp, that great part of his na vy was fhipwrecked. The Perfian monarch, quite difpirited, is perfuaded by Argeftesto fend an ambafTador to the Spartan king. Argeftes- himfelf is deputed, who, after revealing his em- bafTy in fecret to Leonidas, is by him led before the whole army, and there receives his anl'wtr. Alpheus returns, and declares, that the enemy was mafter of the paffages in the hills, and would arrive at Thermopylae the next morning ; upon which Leonidas offers to fend away all the troops, except his three hundred Spartans ; bu,t

THE Grecian leaders, from the council ris'n, Among the troops difperfmg, by their words, Their looks undaunted warm the coldeft heart Againft new dangers threat'ning. To his tent The Locrian captains Medon fwift convenes, Exhorting thus. O long approv'd my friends, You, who have feen my father in the field Triumphant, bold afllftants of my arm In labours not inglorious, who this day Have rais'd frefli trophies, be prepar'd. If help Be further wanted in the Phocian camp, You will the next be fummon'd. Locris lies To ravage firft expos'd. Your ancient fane, Your goddeffes, your prieftefs half-ador'd, The daughter of Oileus, from your fwords Protection claim againft an impious foe. .

All anxious for Meliffa, he difmifs'd Th* applauding vet'rans; to the facredcave Then haften'd. Under heav'n's night-fliaded cope He mus'd. Meliffa in her holy place, How to approach with inaufpicious fteps, How to accoft, his penfive mind revolv'd: When Mycon, pious vaffal of the fane, Defending through the cavern, at the fight Of Medon ftopp'd, and thus. Thy prefence, lord, The prieftefs calls. To Lacedemon's king I bear a mcffage, fuff'ring no delay.

He quits the chief, whofe rapid feet afcend, Soon ent'ring, where the pedeftal difplays Thy form, Calliope fublime. The lyre, Whofe accents immortality confer, Thy fingers feem to wake. On either fide, The fnowy glofs of Parian marble fliows Four of thy fifters through furrounding {hade. Before each image is a virgin plac'd. Before each virgin dimly burns a lamp, Whofe livid fpires juft temper with a gleam The dead obfcurity of night. Apart The prieftefs thoughtful fits. Thus Medon breaks The folemn filence. Anxious for thy ftate, Without a fummons to thy pure abode, I was approaching. Deities, who know The prefent, paft, and future, let my lips, Unblam'd, have utt'rance. Thou, my fifter, hear. Thy breaft let wifdoni ftrengthen. Impious foes Through Oeta now are paffing, She. replies.

Are paffing, brother ! They, alas ! are pafs'd, ' Are in poffeflion of the upper ^freight. Hear in thy turn. A dire narration hear. A favour'd goat, conductor of my herd, Stray' d to a dale, whofe outlet is the poft To Phocian's left, and penetrates to Greece. Him Mycon following by a hoftjle band, Light-arm'd forerunners of a num'rous hoft, Was feiz'd. By fear of menac'd torments forc'd, He fhow'd a paffage up that mountain's fide, Whofe length of wood o'erfliades the Fhocian land To dry and faplefs trunks in diff 'rent parts Fire, by the Perfians artfully apply'd, Soon grew to flames. This done, the troop re turn'd,

VOL. XI.

LEONIDAS.

biomedon, Demophilus, Dithyrambus, and Me-. giftias, refufe to depart : then to relieve the per plexity of Medon on this occafion, he transfers to him the fupreme command, difmiffes Arge- ftes, orders the companions of his own fate to be ready in arms by funfet, and retires to hig pa vilion.

559

Mycon. Now the monntam blaz'd. The Phocians, ill-commanded, left their poft, Alarm'd, confus'd. More diilant ground they

chofe.

n blind delufion forming there* they fpread Their ineffectual banners to repel magin'd peril from thofe fraudful lights, By ftratagem prepar'd. A real foe Meantime fecur'd the undefended pafs. This Mycon faw. Efcaping thence to me, He by my orders haftcns to inform Leonidas. She paus'd. Like one, who fees The forked lignt'ning into fhivers rive A knotted oak, or crumble tow'rs to duft, Aghaft was Medon ; then recov'ring, fpake. Thouboafted glory of the Oilcan houfe, If e'er thy brother bow'd in rev'rence due To thy fuperior virtues, let his voice Be now regarded. From th' endanger'd fane, My fitter, fly. Whatever be my lot, A troop feledt of Locrians lhall tranfport Thy /acred perfon, where thy will ordains.

Think not of me, returns the dame. To Greecfc Direct thy zeal. My peafants are conven'd, That by their labour, when the fatal hour Requires, with mafly fragments I may bar That cave to human entrance. Bcft belov'd Of brothers, now a ferious ear incline. A while in Greece to fortune's \ranton gale His golden banner {hall the Perfian king, Deluded, wave. Leonidas, by death Preferving Sparta, will his fpirit leave

o blaft the glitt'ring pageant. Medon, live To {hare that glory. Thee to perifti here, No law, no oracle enjoins. To die, Uncall'd, is blameful. Let thy pious hand Secure OVleus from, barbarian force. To Sparta mindful of her noble hoft Intruft his rev 'rend head. Th' alTemblcd hinds, Youths, maidens, wives, with nurfelings at their

breafts,

Around her now in confternation flood, The women weeping, mute, aghaft the men. To them Pne turns. You never, faithful race, Your prieftefs fhall forfake. Melifla here, Dcfpairing never of the public weal, For better days in folitude fliall wait, Shall cheer your fadncfs. My prophetic foul Sees through time's cloud the liberty of Greece More ftable,more effulgent. In his blood Leonidas cements th' unfhakenbafe Of that ftrong tow'r, which Athens {hall exalt To cafl a fliadow o'er the eallern world.

This utter'd, tow'rd the temple's inmoft feat Of fanctity her folemn ftep ihe bends, Devout, enraptur'd. In their dark'ning lamps The pallid flames are fainting. Dim through mifts The morning peeps. An awful filence reigns. While Medon penfive from the fane defcends, But inftant reappears. Behind him dofe Treads Melibccus, through the cavern's mouth, Afcending pale in afpect, not unlike What legends tell of fpe2res, by the force Of necromantic forcery conftrain'd ; [join'd,

Through earth's dark bowels, which the fpell dif- They from death's maniion in reluctant {loth Rofe to divulge the &crets of their graves, Or'myfteries of fate. His cheerful brow,

LI.

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

O'erclouded, palcnefs On his healthful cheek, A dull, unwonted heavinefs of pace Portend difaft'rous tidings. Medon fpake.

Turn, holy fifter. By the gods belovM, May they fuftain thee in this mournful hour. Our father, good OVleus is Bo more. Hehearfe thy tidings, fwain. He takes the word.

Thou waft not prefent \vhen his mind, out-

ftretch'd

By zeal for Greece, tranfported by his joy To entertain Leonidas, refus'd Due reft. Old age his ardour had forgot,. To his laft waking moment with his gueft In rapt'rous talk redundant. He at laft, dompos'd and fmiling in th' embrace of fleep, To Pan's protection at the ifland fane "Was left. He wak'd no more. The fatal news To you difcover'd, from the chiefs I hide.

Meliffa heard, inclin'd her forehead low Before th' infculptur'd deities. A figh Broke from her heart, thefe accents from her lips.

The full of days and honours through the gate Ofpainlefs flumber is retir'd. His tomb Shall ftand among his fathers, in the fhade Of his own trophies. Placid were his days, "Which flow'd through blefiings, As a river pure, "Whofe fides are flow'ry, and whofe meadows fair, Meets in his courfe a fubterranean void ; There dips his filver head, again to rife, And, rifing, glide through flow'rs and meadows

new :

So fhall Oileus in thofe happier fields, "Where never tempefts roar, nor humid clouds In mifts diffolve, nor white-defcending flakes Of winter violate th' eternal green ; "Where never gloom of trouble (hades the mind, Nor guft of paflion heaves the quiet breaft, "Nor dews of grief are fprinkled. Thou art gone, Hoft of divine Leonidas on earth, Art gone before him to prepare the feaft, Immortalizing virtue. Silent here, Around her head me wraps her hallow'd pall. Her prudent virgins interpofe a hymn, Not in a plaintive, but majeftic flow, To which their fingers, fweeping o'er the chords, The lyre's full tone attemper. She unveils, Then with a voice, a countenance compos'd.

Go, Medon, pillar of th' Oilcan houfe. New cafes, new duties claim thy precious life. Perform the pious obfequies. Let tears, Let groans be abfent from the facrcd duft, Which Heav'n in life fo favour'd, more in death. A term of righteous days, an envy'd urn Like his, for Medon is Meliffa's prayer. Thou, Melibceus, cordial, high in rank Among the prudent, warn and watch thy lord. My benediction fhall reward thy zeal.

Sooth'd by the blefiings of fuch perfect lips, They both depart. And now the climbing fun To Xerxes' tent difcover'd from afar Tke Perfian captives with their mournful load. Before them rumour through her fable trump Breathes lamentation. Horror lends his voice To fpread the tidings of difaftrous fate Along Spercheos. As a vapour black, Which from the diftant, horizontal verge Afcending, nearer ftill and nearer bends To higher lands its progrefs, there condens'd,

Throws darknefso'er the valleys, while thefacc

Of nature faddens round ; fo ftep by ftep,

In motion flow th' advancing bier diffus'd

A folemn iadnefs o'er the camp. A hedge

Of trembling fpears on either hand is fcrm'd.

Tears underneath his iron-pointed cone

The Sacian drops. The Cafpian favage feels

His heart tranfpierc'd, and wonders at the

In Xerxes' prefence are the bodies plac'd,

Nor he forbids. His agitated breaft

All night had weigh'd againft his future hopes

His prefent loffes, his defeated ranks,

By myriads thinn'd, their multitude abafh'd,

His fleet thrice worfted, torn by ftorms, reduc'd -

To half its number. When he flcpt, in dreams

He faw the haggard dead, which floated round.

Th' adjoining ftrands. Difafters new their^hofta

In fullen frowns, in fhrill upbraidings bode.

Thus, ere the gory bier approach'd his eyes,

He in dejection had already loft.

His kingly pride, the parent of difdain,

And cold indifference to human woes.

Not ev'n befide his fitter's nobler corfc

Her humble lover could awake his fcorn.

The captives told their piercing tale. He heard;

He felt a while compaflion. But ere long

Thofe traces vanifh'd from the tyrant's breaft.

His former gloom redoubles. For himfelf

His anxious bofom heaves, opprefs'd by fear,

Left he with all his fplcndour fhould be caft

A prey to fortune. Thoughtful near the throne

Laconia's exile waits, to whom the king.

O Demaratus, what will fate ordain? Lo, fortune turns againft me! What fhall check Her further malice, when her daring ftride Invades my houfe with ravage, and profanes The blood of great Darius. I have fent From my unguarded fide the chofen band, My braveft chiefs to pafs the defert hill ; Have to the conduct of a Malian fpy My hopes intrufted. May not there the Greeks In oppofition more tremendous ftill, More ruinous than yefter fun beheld, Maintain their poft invincible, renew Their ftony thunder in augmented rage, And fend whole quarries down the craggy fteeps Again to crufh my army ? Oh, unfold Thy fecret thoughts, nor hide the harfheft truthJ Say, what remains to hope ? The exile here.

Too well, O monarch, do thy fears prefage, What may befal thy army ! If the Greeks, Arrang'd within Thermopylae, a pafs Acccfllble and practised, could repel With fuch deftruction their unnumber'd foes; What fcenes of havoc may untrodden paths, Confin'd among the craggy hills, afford ? ^

Loft in defpair, the monarch filent fat. Not lefs unmann'd than Xerxes, from his place Uprofe Argeftes; but concealing fear, Thefe artful words deliver'd. If the king Propitious wills to fpare his faithful bands, Nor fpread at large the terrors of his pow'r; More gentle means of conqueft than by arms, Nor leis fecure may artifice fupply. Renown'd Darius, thy immortal fire Bright in the fpoil of kingdoms, long in vain The fields of proud Euphrates with his hoft O'erfpread. At length, confiding in the wiles

L E O N I D A 3.

531

Of Zopyrus, the mighty prince fubdu'd The Babylonian ramparts. Who fhall count The thrones and ftates, by ftratagem o'erturn'd ? But if corruption join her pow'rful aid, Not one can ftand. What race of men poflefs That probity, that wifdom, which the veil Of craft fhall never blind, nor proffer'd wealth, Nor fplendid pow'r 1'cduce ? O Xerxes! born To more than mortal greatnefs, canft thou find Through thy unbounded fway no dazzling gift, Which may allure Leonidas ? Difpel 1 The cloud of fadnefs from thofe facred eyes. (' Great monarch, proffer to Laconia's chief, What may thy own magnificence declare, And win his friendfhip. O'er his native Greece ' Invert him fov'reign. Thus procure his fword, For thy fucceeding conquefts. Xerxes here, j^As from a trance awak'ning, fwift replies.

Wife are thy dictates. Fly to Sparta's chief. ^Argeftes, fall before him. Bid him join My arms, and reign o'er ev'ry Grecian ftate.

He fcarce had finifti'd, when in hafte approached ' Artuchus. Startled at theghaltly ftage Oi death, that guardian of the Perfian fair Thus in a groan. Thou deity malign, O Arimanius, what a bitter draught For my fad lips thy cruelty hath mix'd ! Is this the flow'r of women, to my charge r So lately giv'n ? Oh princefs ! I have rang'd I" In queft of thee, found here a lifelefs corfc.
 * The whole Sperchean valley, woods, and caves,
 * Aftonifhment and horror lock my tongue.

Pride now reviving in the monarch's breaft, I Difpell'd his black defpondency a while, Remove her, fatrap, to the female train. JLet them the due folemnities perform. -But never Hie, by Mithra's light I fwear, Shall fleep in Sufa with her kindred duft ; Who by ignoble paflions hath debas'd The blood of Xerxes. Greece beheld her (hame ; JLet Greece behold her tomb. The low-born flave, Who dar'd to Xerxes' filter lift his hopes, On fome bare crag expofe. The Spartan here.
 * .With gall more black effacing from his heart
 * Each merciful impreffion. Stern he fpake.

My royal patron, let me fpcak and die, If fuch thy will. This cold, disfigur'd clay Was late thy foldier, gallantly who fought, Who nobly perifh'd, long the deareft friend Of Hyperanthes, hazarding his life Now in thy caufe. O'er Perfians thou doft reign ; None more than Perfians, venerate the brave. Well hath he fpoke, Atruchus firm fubjoins. But if the king his rigour will inflict On this dead warrior Heav'n o'erlook the deed, Nor on our heads accumulate frefh woes ! The fhatter'd fleet, th' intimidated camp, The band felect, through Oeta's dang'rous wilds .At this dread crifis ftruggling, muft obtain .Support from Heav'n, or Afia.'s glory falls. Fell pride, recoiling at thefe awful words In Xerxes' frozen boforn, yields to fear, Refuming there the fway. He grants the corfe To Demaratus. Forth Arf.ichus moves Behind the bier, uplifted- by his train.

Argeftes, parted from his mailer's fide, Afcends a car ; and fpeeding o'er the beach, Sees Artemifia. She the afhes pale

Of flaughter'd Carians on the pyre confum'd, Was then collecting for the fun'ral vafe In exclamation thus. My fubjecls loft On earth, defcend to happier climes below The fawning, daftard counfellors, who left Your worth deferted in the hour of need, May kites disfigure, may the wolf devour Shade of my hufband, thou falute in fmiles Thefe gallant warriors, faithful once to thee, Nor lels to me. They tidings will report Of Artemifia, to revive thy love* May wretches like Argeftes never clafp Their wives, their offspring ! Never greet their

homes !

May their unbury'd limbs difmifs their ghofts To Wail for ever on the banks of Styx !

Then, turning tow'rd her fon. Come, virtuous

boy,

Let us tranfport thefe relics of our friends -. r, I " To yon tall bark, in pendent fable clad. They, if her keel be deftin'd to return, ; > ^ Shall in paternal monuments repofe. Let us embark. Till Xerxes fhuts his ear To falfe Argeftes ; in her veflel hid, Shall ArtemifiVs gratitude lament Her bounteous fov 'reign's fate. Leander, mark. The Doric virtues are not eaftern plants. Them fofter ftill within thy gen'rous breaft, But keep in covert from the blaze of courts ; Where flatt'ry's guile in oily words profufe, In action tardy, o'er th' ingenuous tongue, The arm of valour, and the faithful heart Will ever triumph. Yet my foul enjoys Her own prefage, that deftiny referves An hour for my revenge. Concluding here, She gains the fleet. Argeftes fweeps along On rapid wheels from Artemifia' s view, Like night, protectrefs foul of heinous deeds, With treafon, rape, and murder at her heel, Before the eye of morn retreating fwift To hide her lothfome vifage. Soon he reach'd Thermopylae ; defcending from his car, Was led by Dithyrambus to the tent Of Sparta's ruler. Since the fatal news By Mycon late deliver'd, he apart With Polydorus had confulted long On high attempts ; and now fequefter'd, fat To ruminate on vengeance. At his feet Prone fell the fatrap, and began. The will Of Xerxes bends me proftrate to the earth Before thy prefence. Great and matchlefs chief, Thus fays the lord of Afia. Join my arms ; Thy recompenfe is Greece. Her fruitful plains, Her gen'rous fteeds, her flocks, her num'roua

towns,

Her fens, I render to thy fov'reign hand. And, O illuftrious warrior, heed my words! Think on the blifs of royalty, the pomp Of courts, their endlefs pleafures, trains of flaves. Who refllefs watch for thee, and thy delights : Think on the glories of unrivall'd fway. Look on th' Ionic, on th' ./Eolian Greeks. From them their phantom liberty is flown; While in each province, :ais'd by Xerxes' pow'r, Some favour'd chief prefides ; exalted ftate, Ne'er giv'n by envious freedom. On his head He bears the gorgeous diadem ; he fees His equals once in adoration ftoop Llij

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Beneath his footftool. What fuperior beams Will from thy temples blaze, when gen'ral Greece, In nobleft ftates abounding, calls thee lord, Thee only worthy. How will each rejoice Around thy throne, and hail th' aufpicious day, When thou, diftinguifh'd by the Perfian king, Didft in thy fway confenting nations blefs, Didft calm the fury of unfparing war, Which elfe had delug'd all with blood and flames.

JLeonidas replies not, but commands The Thefpian youth* ftill watchful near the tent, To fummon all the Grecians. He obeys. The king up rifes from his feat, and bids The Perfian follow. He, amaz'd, attends, Surrounded foon by each affexnbling band; When thus at length the godlike Spartan fpake :

Here, Parfian, tell thy embafly. Repeat, That to obtain my friendfhip Afia's prince To me hath proffer'd fov'reignty o'er Greece. Then view thefe bands, whofe valour fhall preferve That Greece unconquer'd, which your king be-

ftowe;

Shall ftrew your bodies on her crimfon'd plains: The indignation, painted on their looks, Their gen'rous fcorn may anfwer for their chief. Yet from Leonidas, thou wretch, inur'd To vafTalage and bafenefs, hear. The pomp, The arts of pleafure in defpotic courts 1 fpurn abhorrent. In a fpotlefs heart J look for pleafure. I from righteous deeds Derive my fplendour. No adoring crowd, No purpled flaves, no mercenary (pears My ftate embarrafs. I in Sparta rule By laws, my rulers, with a guard unknown To Xerxes, public confidence and love. ,

No pale fufpicion of th' empoifon'd bowl, Th' affaffin's poniard, or provok'd revolt Chafe from my decent couch the peace, deny'd To his refplendent canopy. Thy king, Who hath profan'd by proffer'd bribes my ear, Dares not to meet my arm. Thee, trembling fiave, Whofe embaffy was treafon, I defpife, And therefore fpare. Diomedon fubjoins :

Our marble temples thefe Barbarians wafle, A crime lefs impious, than a bare attempt Of facrilege on virtue. Grant my fuit, Thou living temple, where the goddcfs dwells. To me confign the caitiff. Soon the winds Shall parch his limbs on Oeta's talleft pine.

Amidft his fury fuddcnly return'd The fpeed f Alpheus. All, fufpended, fix'd On him their eyes impatient. He began :

I am return'd a rneflenger of ill. 'Clcfe to the paffage, op'ning into Greece, That poft committed to the Phocian guard,. O'eihangs a bufhy cliff. A ftation there Behind the fhrubs by dead of night I took, Though not in darknefs. Purple was the face Of heav'n. Beneath my feet the valleys glow'd. A range immenfe of wood-invefted hills, The boundaries of Greece, were clad in flames; An act of froward chance, or crafty foes To caft difmay. The crackling pines I heard ; Their branches fparkled, and the thickets blaz'd. Jn hillocks embers rofe. Embody'd fire, As from unnumber'd furnaces, I faw Mount high through, vacant trunks of headlefs oaks.

Broad-bas'd, and dry with age. Barbarian helms, Shields, javelins, fabres, gleaming from below, Full foon difcover'd to my tortur'd fight The ftreights in Perfia's pow'r. The Phocian

chief,

Whate'er the caufe, relinquifliing his poft, Was to a neighb'ring eminence remov'd ; There by the foe negleded, or contemn'd,

He faid no more. Unutterable fear In horrid filence wraps the lift'ning crowd, Aghaft, confounded. Silent are the chiefs, Who feel no terror ; yet in wonder fix'd,, Thick-wedg'd, enclofe Leonidas around, Who thus in calmeft elocution fpake :

I now behold the oracle fulfill'd. Then art thou near, thou glorious, facred hour, Which fhalt my country's liberty fecure. Thrice hail! thou folemn period. Thee the tongues Of virtue, fame and freedom fhall proclaim, Shall celebrate in ages yet unborn. Thou godlike offspring of a godlike fire, To him my kindeft greetings, Medon, bear. Farewell, Megiftias, holy friend and brave. Thou too, experienc'd, venerable chief, Demophilus, farewell. Farewell to thee, Invincible Diomedon, to thee, Unequall'd Dithyrambus, and to all, Ye other dauntlels warriors, who may claim Praife from my lips, and friendfhip from my heart. You after all the wonders, which your fwords Have here accomplifh'd, will enrich your names By frefli renown. Your valour muft complete What ours begins. Here firft th' aftonifh'd foe On dying Spartans fhall with terror gaze, And tremble while he conquers. Then, by fate Led from his dreadful victory to meet United Greece in phalanx o'er the plain, By your avenging fpears himfelf fliall fall.

Forth from the affembly ftrides Plataea's chief. By the twelve gods, enthron'd in heav'n fupreme ; By my fair name, unfully'd yet, I fwear, Thine eye, Leonidas, fhall ne'er behold Diomedon forfake thee. Firft, let ftrength Defert my limbs, and fortitude my heart. Did I not face the Marathonian war ? Have I not feen Thermopylae ? What more Can fame beflow, which I fhould wait to fhare ? Where can I, living, purchafe brighter praife, Than dying here ? What more illuftrious tomb Can I obtain, than, bury'd in the heaps Of Perfians, falTn my victims, on this rock To lie diftinguifh'd by a thoufand wounds ?

He ended ; when Demophilus. O king Of Lacedemon, pride of human race, Whom none e'er equall'd, but the feed of Jove, Thy own forefather, number'd with the gods, Lo ! I am old. With fault'ring fteps I tread The prone defcent of years. My country claim'd My youth, my ripenefs. Feeble age but yields An empty name of fervice. What remains For me unequal to the winged fpeed Of adtive hours, whjch court the fwift and young I What eligible wifh can wifdom form, But to die well ? Demophilus fhall clofe With thee, O hero, on this glorious earth

LEONIDAS.

His eve of life. The youth of Thefpia next Addrefs'd Leonidas. O firft of Greeks, Me too think worthy to attend thy fame With this moft dear, this venerable man, Forever honour'd from my tend'reft,age, Ev'n till on life's extremity we part. Nor too afpiring let my hopes be deem'd; Should the Barbarian in his triumph mark My youthful limbs among the gory heaps, Perhaps remembrance may unnerve his arm In future fields of conteft with a race, To whom the flow'r, the blooming joys of life Are lefs alluring than a noble death.

To him his fecond parent. Wilt thou bleed, My Dithyrambus ? But I here withhold All counfel from thee, who art wife as brave. I know thy magnanimity. I read Thy gen'rous thoughts. Decided is thy choice. Come then, attendants on a godlike (hade, When to th' Elyfian anceftry of Greece Defcends her great protector, we will {how To Harmatides an illuftrious fon, And no unworthy brother. We will link Our fhields together. We will prefs the ground, Still undivided in the arms of death. So if th' attentive traveller we draw To our cold reliques, wond'ring, fhall he trace The diff'rcnt fcene, then pregnant with applaufe, O wife old man, exclaim, the hour of fate Well didft thou choofe ; and, O unequall'd youth, Who for thy country didft thy bloom devote, May 'ft thou remain for ever dear to fame ! May time rejoice to name thee ! Q'er thy urn May everlafting peace her pinion fpread.

This faid, the hero with his lifted fhield His face o'er/hades ; he drops a fecret tear : Not this a* tear of anguifh, but deriv'd From fond affection, grown mature with time, Awak'd a manly tendernefs alone, Unmix'd with pity, or with vain regret.

A ftream of duty, gratitude, and love, Flow'd from the heart of Harmatides' fon, Addrefllng ftraight Leonidas, whofe looks Declar'd unfpeakable applaufe. O king Of Lacedemon, now diftribute praife From thy accuftom'd juftice, fmall to me, To him a portion large. His guardian care His kind inftriiction, his example train 1 d My infancy, my youth. From him I learn'd To live unfpotted. Could I lefs than learn From him to die with honour ? Medon hears. Shook by a whirlwind of contending thoughts Strong heaves his manly bofom, under awe Of wife Melifl'a, torn by friendfhip, fir'd By fuch example high. In dubious ftate &o rolls a veflel, when th' inflated waves Her planks affail, and winds her canvafs rend ; The rudder labours, and requires a hand Of firm, dclib'rate (kill. The gen'rous king Perceives the hero's ftruggle, and prepares To interpofe relief ; when inilant came Dieneces before them. Short he fpake :

Barbarian myriads through the fecret pafs Have enter' d Greece. Leonidas, by morn Expect them here. My flender force I fpar'4. There to have died was ufelefs. We return NWith thee to perifh. Union of our ftrength will render more illuftrious to ourfelves, Arid to the foe more terrible our fall.

Megiftias laft accofts Laconia's king. Thou, whom the gods have chofen to exalt Above mankind in virtue and renown,

call not me prefumptuous, who implore Among thefe heroes thy regardful ear. To Lacedemon I a ftr anger came,

There found protection. There to honours rais'd,

1 have not yet the benefit repaid.

That now the gen'rous Spartans may behold In me their large beneficence not vain, Here to their caufe I confccrate my breath.

Not fo, Megiftias, interpos'd the king. Thou and thy ,fon retire. Again the feer :

Forbid it, thou eternally ador'd, O Jove, confirm my perfevering foul ! Nor let me thefe aufpicious moments lofe, When to my bounteous patrons I may fhow, That I deferv'd their favour. Thou, my child, Dear Menalippus, heed the king's command, And my paternal tenderncfs revere. Thou from thefe ranks withdraw thee, to my ufc Thy arms furrend'ring. Fortune will fupply New proofs of valour. Vanquifh then, or find A glorious grave ; but fpare thy father's eye The bitter anguifh to behold thy youth Untimely bleed before him. Grief fufpends His fpeech, and interchangeably their arms Impart the laft embraces. Either weeps, The hoary parent, and the blooming fon.

But from his temples the pontific wreath Megiftias now unloofens. He refigns His hallow'd veftments ; while the youth in tears The helmet o'er his parent's fnowy locks, O'er his broad cheft adjufts the radiant mail.

Dieneces was nigh. Opprefs'd by fhame, His downcaft vifage Menalippus hid From him, who cheerful thus : Thou need'fl not blufli. 4

Thou hear'ft thy father and the king command What I fuggeftcd, thy departure hence. Train'd by my care, a foldier thou return *ft; Go, practife my inftructions. Oft in fields Of future conflict may thy prowefs call Me to remembrance. Spare thy words. Farewell.

While fuch contempt of life, fuch fervid zeal To die with glory animate the Greeks, Far difFrent thoughts poffefs Argeftes 1 foul. Amaze and mingled terror chill his blood. Cold drops, diftill'd from ev'ry pore, bedew His fhiv'ring flefh. His bofom pants. His knees Yield to their burden. Ghaftly pale his cheeks, Pale are his lips and trembling. Such the minds Of flaves corrupt; on them the beauteous face Of virtue turns to horror. But thefe words From Lacedemon's chief the wretch relievo:

Return to Xerxes. Tell him, on this rock The Grecians faithful to their truft await His chofen myriads. Tell him, thou haft feen How far the luft of empire is below A ft eeborn fpirit ; that my death, which fcals My country's fafety is indeed aboon, His folly gives a precious boon, which Greece Will 'by perdition "to his throne repay.

He faid. The Perfian haften's through the*pakk Once more the ftern Diomedon arofe. Wrath overcaft his forehead while he fpake :

Yet more mud ftay am! bleed. Deteftcd Thebes* Ne'er fliall receive her traitors back. Thisfpot Shall fee their perfidy aton'd by death, LI j

534 THE WORKS

Ev'n from that pow'r, to which their abject hearts Have facrific'd their faith. Nor dare to hope, Ye vile deferters of the public weal, Ye coward flaves, that mingled in the heaps Of gen'rous victims to their country's good. You fhall your fhame conceal. Whoe'er fhall pafs Along this lield of glorious flain, and mark For veneration ev'ry nobler corfe ; His heart, though warm in rapturous applaufe, A while Ih^ll curb the tranfport to repeat. His execrations o'er fuch impious heads, On. whom that fate, to others yielding fame, Is infamy and vengeance. Dreadful thus On the pale Thebans fentence he pronounc'd, Like Rhadamanthus from th' infernal feat Of judgment, which inexorably dooms The guilty dead to ever-during pain ; While Phlegethon his flaming volumes rolls Before their fight, and ruthlefs furies {hake Their hifling ferpents. All the Greeks affent Jn clamours, echoing through the concave rock. Forth' Anaxander in th' aflembly flood, Which he addrefs'd with indignation.feign'd:

If yet your clamours, Grecians, are allay'd, LO ! I appear before you to demand, Why thtfe my brave companions, who alone Among the Thebans through diffiiading crowds Their paflage forc'd to join your camp, fhould bear The name of traitors ? By an exil'd wretch We are traduc'd, by Deraaratus, driv'n From Spartan confines, who hath meanly fought Barbarian courts for flicker. Hath he drawn Such virtues thence, that Sparta, who before Held him unworthy of his native fway, Should truft him now, and doubt auxiliar friends ? Injurious men ! We fcorn the thoughts of flight. Let Afia bring her- numbers; unconilrain'd, "We will confront them, and for Greece expire.

Thus in the garb of virtue he adoin'd Neceflity. Laconia's king perceiv'd Through all its fair difguife the traitor's heart. So, when at firft, mankind in fcience rude Rever'd the moon, as bright in native beams, Some fage, who walk'd with nature through her By wifdom led, difcern'd the various orb, [works, Dark in itfelf, in foreign fplendours clad.

Leonidas concludes. Ye Spartans, hear ; Hear you, O Grecians, in our lot by choice Partakers, deftin'd to enrol your names In time's eternal record, and enhance Your country's luftre : lo ! the noontide blaze Inflames the broad horizon. Each retire ; Each in his tent invoke the pow'r of fleep To brace his vigour, to enlarge his flrength For long endurance. When the fun defcend,s, Let each appear in arms. You, brave allies Of Corinth, Phlius, and Mycenje's tow'rs, Arcadians, Locrians, mult not yet depart. While we repofe, embattled wait. Retreat When we our tents abandon. I refign To great Oileus' fpn fupreme command. Take my embraces, ^fchylus. The fleet Expects thee. To Themiftocles report, What thou haft feen and heard. O thrice farewell ! Th' Athenian anfwer 'd : To youriel ves. my friends, Your virtues immortality fecure, Your bright examples victory to Greece.

Retaining thcfe inj un&ions, all difpers'd ;

OF GLOVER.

While in his tent Leonidas remain'd

Apart with Agis,whomhe thus befpake:

Yet in our fall the pond'rous hand of Greece

Shall Afia feel. This Perfian's welcome tale

Of us, inextricably doom'd her prey,

As by the force of ibrcery will wrap

Security around her, will fupprefs

All fenfe, all thought of danger. Brother, know,

That loon as Cynthia from the vault of heav'n

Withdraws her faining lamp, through Afia's hoil

Shall maffacre and defolation rage.

Yet not to bafe affcciates will I truft

My vaft delign. Their perfidy might warn

The uufufpecting foe, our faireft fruits

Of glory thus be wither'd. Ere we move,

While on the folemn lacrifice intent,

As Lacedemon's ancient laws ordain,

Our pray'rs we offer to the tuneful nine,

Thou whifper through the willing ranks of Thebes

Slow and in filence to difperfe and fly.

Now left by Agis, on his couch rt clin'd, The Spartan king thus meditates alone :

My fate is now impending. O my foul, What more aufpicious period could ''ft thou choofe For death, than now, when beating high in jey, Thou tell'ft me I am happy ? If to live, Or die, as virtue dictates, be to know The pureft blifs ; if fhe her charms difplays Still lovely, ftill unfading, ftill ferene To youth, to age, to death : whatever be Thofe other climes of happinefs unchang'd, Which Heav'n in dark futurity conceals, Still here, O virtue, thou art all our good! Oh, what a black, unfpeakable reverfe Mufl the unrighteous, muft the tyrant prove ? What in the ftrugglc of departing day, When life's laft glimpfe, extinguifhing/prefents Unknown, inextricable gloom ? But how Can I explain the terrors of a brcaft, Where guilt refides ? Leonidas, forego The horrible conception, and again Within thy own felicity retire ; Bow grateful dov/n to him, who form'd thy mind Of crimes unfruitful, never to admit The black impreflion of a guilty thought. Elfe could I fearlefs by delib'rate choice Relinquifii life ? This calm from minds deprav'd Is ever abfent. Oft in them the force Of fome prevailing paffion for a time Supprcfles fear. Precipitate they lofe The fenfe of danger ; when dominion, wealth, Or purple pomp, enchant the dazzled fight, purfuing ftill the joys of life alone.

But he, who calmly feeks a certain death, When duty only, and the gen'ral good Direct his courage, muft a foul poflefs, Which all content deducing from itfelf, Can by unerring virtue's conftant light Difcern, when death is worthy of his choice.

The man, thus great and happy in the fcope Of his large mind, is ftretch'd beyond his date, Ev'n on this fhore of being, he in thought Supremely blefs'd, anticipates the good Which late pofterity from him derives.

At length the hero's meditations clofe. The fwelling tranfport of his heart iubfides In foft oblivion ; and the filken plumes Of fleep envelop his extended limbs,

L O N I D A S.

535

BOOK XI.

THE ARGUMENT.

Leonidas, rifing before fun-fet, difmifies the forces under the command of Meclon ; but obferving a reluctance in him to depart, reminds him of his duty, and gives him an affectionate farewell. He then relates to his own felect band a dream, which is interpreted by Megiftias, armshimfelf, and marches in procefiion with his whole troop to an altar, newly raifed on a neighbouring meadow ; there offers a facrifice to the mules : he invokes the afiiftance of thole goddefles ; he animates his companions ; then, placing him- felf at their head, leads them againft the anemy in the dead of the night.

THE day was clofing, Agis leftliis tent. He fought his godlike brother. Him he found Stretch'd o'er his tranquil couch. His looks re-

tain'd

The cheerful tincture of his waking thoughts To gladden deep. So fmile loft evening ikies, Yet ftreak'd with ruddy light, when fummer's

funs Have veil'd their beaming foreheads. Tranfport

fill'd

The eye of Agis. Friendship fwrelPd his heart. His yielding knee in veneration bent. The hero's hand he kifs'd, then fervent thus :

O excellence ineffable, receive This fecret homage ; and may gentle fleep Yet longer leal thine eyelids, that, unblam'd, I may tail down before thee. He concludes In adoration of his friend divine, Whoie brow the fhades of (lumber now forfake. So, when the riling fun refumes his Hate, Some white-rob'd magnus on Euphrates fide, Or Indian feer on Ganges proftrate falls Before th' emerging glory, to fa lute That radiant emblem of th' immortal mind.

Uprife both heroes. From their tents in arms Appear the bands elect:. The other Greeks Are filing homeward. Only Medon flops. MeliflYs dictates he forgets a while. All inattentive to the warning voice Of MeliboKus, earnelt he furveys Leonidas. Such conttancy of zeal In good Oileub' offspring brings the fire To full remembrance in that lolemn hour, And draws thefe cordial accents from the king : i

Approach me, Locrian, In thy look I trace Confummate faith and love. But, vers'd in arms, Againft thy gen'ral's orders would'ft thou {lay ? Go, prove to kind Oiieus, that my heart Of him was mindful, when the gates of death J barr'd againft his ion. Yon gallant Greeks, To thy commanding care from mine tramferr'd, Remove from certain flaughter. Laft repair To Lacedemon. Thither lead thy fire- Say to her fenate, to her people tell, Here didft thou leave their countrymen and king Qn death relolv'd, obedient to the laws.

The Locnan chief, retraining tears, replies : My fire, left flumb'ring in the ifland-fane, Awpke no mojre. Then joyful 1 mall raee^

Him foon, the king made anfwer. Let thy worth

upply thy father's. Virtue bids me die, Thee live. Farewell. Now Medon's grief, o'er-

aw'd

3y wifdom, leaves his long-fufpended mind To firm decifion. He departs, prepar'd r or all the duties of a man, by deeds To prove himfelf the friend of Sparta's king, Vlelifla's brother, and O'fleus' fon.

The gen'rous victims of the public weal, Aflembled now, Leonidas falutes, His pregnant foul diiburd'ning. O thrice hail I urround me, Grecians ; to my words attend. This evening's fleep no fooner prefs'd my brows, Than o'er my head the empyreal form Of heav'n-enthron'd Alcides was difplay'd.

faw his magnitude divine. His voice [ heard, his folemn mandate to arife. role. He bade me follow. I obey'd. A. mountain's fummit, clear'd from mift, of

cloud,

We reach'd in filence. Suddenly the howl Of wolves and dogs, the vulture's piercing fhriek, The yell of ev'ry beaft and bird of prey Difcordant grated on my ear. I turn'd. A furface hideous, delug'd o'er with blood, Beyond my view inimitably ftretch'd, One vaft expanfe of horror. There fupine, Of huge dimenfion, cov'ring half the plain, A giant corfe lay mangled, red with wounds, Delv'd in th' enormous flefli, which, bubbling,

fed

Ten thoufand thoufand grifly beaks and jaws, Infatiably devouring. Mute I gaz'd ; When from behind 1 heard a iecond found Like furges, tumbling o'er a craggy ihore. Again I turn'd. An ocean there appear'd With riven keels and fhrouds, with fliiver'd oars, With arms and welt'ring carcafles beftrewn Innumerous. The billows foam'd in blood. But where the waters, unoblerv'd before, Between two adverfe fliores, contracting, roll'd A ftormy current, on the beach forlorn One of majeftic ftature I defcry'd In ornaments imperial. Oft he bent On me his clouded eyeballs. Oft my name He founded forth in execrations loud ; Then rent his fplendid garments } then his head In rage diverted of its graceful hairs. Impatient now he ey'd a (lender ikiff, Which, mounted high on boiftrous waves, ap*

proach'd.

With indignation, with reludVant grief Once more his fight reverting, he embark 'd Amid the perils of the frowning deep.

thou, by glorious actions rank'd in heav'n,

1 here exclaim'd, inftruct: me. What produc'd This delblation ? Hercules reply'd:

Let thy aftonilh'd eye again furvey The f, thy foul abhorr'd. I look'd. I faw A land, where plenty with d importing hands Pour'd all the fruits of Amalthea's horn ; Where bloom'd the olive ; where the cluft'ring

vine

With her broad foliage mantled ev'ry hill; Where Ceres with exuberance enrob'd The pregnant Uofonas of the fields in gold, I* 1 U>

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Where fpacioas towns, whofe circuits proud con-

tain'd

The dazzling works of wealth along the banks Of copious rivers fliow'd their ftately tow'rs, The ftrength and i'plendour of the peopled land. Then in a moment clouds obfcur'd my view 5 At once all vaniih'd from my waking eyes.

Thrice 1 falute the ome, loud began The fage Megiftias. In this myftic dream I fee my country's victories. The land, The deep fliall own her triumphs ; while the tears Of Afia and of Libya fliall deplore Their offspring, carl before the vulture's beak, And ev'ry monftrous native of the main. Thofe joyous fields of plenty picture Greece, Enrich'd by conqueft, and barbarian fpoiis. He, whom thou faw'ft, in regal vefture clad, Print on the fandhis folitary ftep, Is Xerxes, foil'd and fugitive. So fpake The rev'rend augur. Ev'ry bofom felt Enthufiaftic rapture, joy beyond All fenfe, atid all conception, but of thofe, Who die to faye their country. Here again Th' exulting band Leonidas addrefs'd.

Since happinefs from virtue is deriv'd, Who for his country dies, that moment proves Moft: happy, as moft virtuous. Such OUK lot. But go, Megiftias. Inftantly prepare The facred fuel, and the victim due ; That to the mutes (fo by Sparta's law We are enjoin'd) our off'rings may be paid, Before we march. Remember, from the rites Let ev'ry found be ablent ; not the fife, Ngt ev'n the mufic-breathing flute be heard. Meantime, ye leaders, ev'ry band inftruct To move in liJence. Mindful of their charge The chiefs depart. Leonidas provides Kis various armour. Agis clofe attends, His befl afliftant. Firft a breaftplate arms The fpacious chert. O'er this the hero fpreads The mailed cuirafs, from his flioulders hung. A fhining belt infolds his mighty loins. Next on his ftateiy temples he erects The plumed helm; then grafps his pond'rous

fliield :

Where nigh the centre on projecting brafs Th' inimitable artilt had embofs'd The fliape of great Alcides ; whom to gain Two goddefies contended. Pleafure here Won by foft wiles th' attracted eye ; and there The foira of virtue dignify'd the fcene. In her majeftic fweetneis was difplay'd The mind fublime and happy. From her lips Seem'd eloquence to flow. In look ferene, But fix'd intenfely on the fon of Jove, She wav'd her hand, where, winding to the fides, Her paths attended. On the fummit Hood, Supported by a trophy near to heav'n, Fame, and protended her eternal trump. The youth attentive to her wifdom own'd The prevalence of virtue ; while his eye, Fill'd by that fpirit, which redeem'd the world From tyranny and monfters, darted flames ; Not undefcry'd by pleafure, where flie lay Beneath a gorgeous canopy Around Were flowrets ftrewn, and wantonly in rills A fou-it meander'd.' All relax'd her limbs

Nof wanting yet folicitude to gain,

What loft flie fear'd, as ftruggling with defpair,

She feem'd collecting ev'ry pow'r to charm :

Excefs of fweet allurement flie diffus'd

In vain. Still virtue fway'd Alcides' mind.

Hence all his labours. Wrought with vary'd art.

The fliield's external furface they enrich'd.

This portraiture of glory on his arm Leonidas difplays, and, tow'ring, irrides From his pavilion. Ready are the bands. The chiefs aflume their ftation. Torches blaze Through ev'ry file. All now in filent pace To join in folemn facrifice proceed. Firft Polydorus bears the hallow'd knife, The facredfalt and barley., At his fide Diomedon fuftains a weighty mace. The prieft, Megiftias, follows like the reft In polifli'd armour. W.h'te as winter's fleece, A fillet round his flaining helm reveals The facerdotal honours. By the horns, Where laurels twine, with Alpheus Maron Iead5s The confecrated ox. And lo ! behind, Leonidas advances. Never he In fuch tranfcendent majefty was feen, And his own virtue never fo enjoy'd. Succeflive move Dieneces the brave, In hoary ftate Deinophilus, the bloom Of Dithyrambus, glowing in the hope Of future praife, the gen'rous Agis next Serene and graceful, laft the Theban chiefs, Repining, ignominious :* then flow march The troops all mute, nor fiiake their brazen arms.

Not from Thermopylar remote the hills Of Oeta, yielding to a fruitful dale, Within their fide, half-circling, had enclos'd A fair expanfe in verdure fmooth. The bounds Were edg'd by wood, o'erlook'd by fnowy cliff?, Which from the clouds bent frowning. Down a

rock

Above the loftieft fummit of the grove A tumbling torrent wote the fliagged ftone; Then, gleaming through the intervals of (hade, Attain'd the vallty, where the level frit-am Diffus'd refrefhment. On its banks the Greeks Had raii'd a ruitic altar, fram'd of turf. Broad was the furface, high in piles of wood, All interfpers'd with laurel. Purer deem'd, Than river, lake, or fountain, in a vafe Old Ocean's briny element was plac'd Before the altar; and of wine unmix'd Capacious goblets ftood. Megiftias now His helm unloofen'd. With his fnowy head, Uncover'd, round the folemn pile he trod. He fhook a branch of laurel, fcatt'ring wide The facred moifture of trie main. His hand Next on the altar, on the victim ftrew'd The mingled fait and barley. O'er the horns Th' inverted chalice, foaming from the grape, Difcharg'd a rich libation. Then approach'd Diomedou. Megiftias gave the lign. Down funk the victim by a deathful ftroke, Nor groan'd. The augur bury'd in the throat His hallow'd fteel. A purple current flow'd. Now fmok'd the ftructure, now it flam'd abroad In fudden fplendour. Deep in circling ranks The Grecians prefs'd. Each held a fparkling brand j

tEONIDAS.

537

The beaming lances intermix'd ; the helms, The burnifiYd armour multiply'd the blaze. Leonidas drew nigh. Before the pile His feet he planted. From his brows remov'd, The cafque to Agis he confign'd, his Ihield, His fpear to Dithyrambus ; then, his arms Extending, forth in fupplications broke.

Harmonious daughters of Olympian Jove, Who, on the top of Helicon ador'd, And high Parnaffus, with delighted ears Bend to the warble of Caftalia's ftream, Or Aganippe's murmur, if from thence We muft invoke your prefence ; or along The neighb'ring mountains with propitious fteps If now you grace your confecrated bow'rs, Look down, ye mufes; nor difdain to ftand Each an immortal witnefs of our fate. But with you bring fair Liberty, whom Jove, And you muft honour. Let her facred eyes Appro/e her dying Grecians; let her voice In exultation tell the earth and heav'ns, Thefe are her fons. Then ftrike your tuneful

fhells.

Record us guardians of our parent's age, Our matron's virtue, and our children's bloom, The glorious bulwarks of our country's laws, Who fliall ennoble the hiftorian's page, Shall on the joyous feftival infpire With loftier ftrains the virgin's choral fong. Then, O celeftial maids, on yonder camp Let night fit heavy. Let a fleep like death Weigh down the eye of Afia. O infufe A cool, untroubled fpirit in our breaits, Which may in lilence guide our daripg feet, Controul our fury, nor by tumult wild The friendly dark affright ; till dying groans Of flaughter'd tyrants into horror wake The midnight calm. Then turn deftru&ion loofe. x Let terror, let confufion rage around, In one vaft ruin heap the barb'rous ranks, Their horfe, their chariots. Let the fpurning fteed Imbrue his hoots in blood, the fhatterd cars Crum with their brazen weight the prottrate necks Of chiefs and kings, encircled, as they fall, By nations flam. You, countrymen and friends, My laft commands retain. Your gen'ral's voice Once more falutes you, not to route the brave, Or minds, relolv'd and dauntlefs, to confirm. Too well by this expiring blaze I fee Impatient valour flafh from ev'ry eye. O temper well that ardour, and your lips Clofe on the rifing tranfport. Mark, how fleep Hath folded millions in his black embrace. No found is wafted from th' unnumber'd foe. The winds themlelves are filent. All confpires To this great facrifice, where thoufands foon Shall only wake to die. Their crowded train This ru'ght perhaps to Pluto's dreary (hades Ev'n Xerxes' ghott may lead, unlefs referv'd From this deftruction to lament a doom Of more difgrace, when Greece confounds that

pow'r,

Which we fhall (hake. But look, the fetting moon Shuts on our darkfome paths her warning horns. Let each his head diftinguifh by a wreath Of well-earn'd laurel. Then the victim fliare, ^Then crown the goblet. Take your lalt repaft ;

With your forefathers, and the heroes old You next will banquet in the bleis'd abodes. Here ends their leader. Through th' encircling

crowd

The agitation of their fpears denotes High ardour. Sa the ipiry growth of pines Is rpck'd, when ^olus in eddies winds Among their ftately trunks on Pelion's brow. The Acarnanian leer distributes fwift The facred laurel. Snatch'd in eager zeal, Around each helm the woven leaves unite 1 heir glolly verdure to the floating plumes. Then is the victim portion'd. In the bowl Then Hows the vine's empurpled ftream. Aloof The Theban train in wan dejection mute Brood o'er their fhame, or caft affrighted looks On that determin'd courage, which, ,unmov*d At fate's approach, with cheerful lips could tafte The fparkling goblet, could in joy partake That laft, that glorious banquet. Ev'n the heart Of Anaxander had forgot its wiles, Difiembling fear no longer. A;jis here, Regardful ever of the king's command, Accofts the Theban chiefs in whifpers thus :

Leonidas permits you to retire. While on the rites of facrifice employ'd, None heed your motions. Separate and fly In filent pace. This, heard, th' inglorious troop, Their files diflblving, from the reft withdraw. Unieen they moulder from the hoft like fnow, Freed from the rigour of containing froft ; Soon as the fun exerts his orient beam, The tranfitory landfcape melts in rills Away, and ftructures, delude the eye, Inienfi'jly are lott. The folemn feaft Was now concluded. Now Laconia's king Had reaflum'd his arms. Before his ftep The crowd roll backward. In their eladden'd

fight

His creft, illuinin'd by uplifted brands, Its purple fplcndour fhakes. The tow'ring oak Thus from a lofty promontory waves His majcfty of verdure. As with joy The failors mark his heav'n-afcendiug pride, Which from afar directs their foamy courfe Along the pathiefs ocean ;.fo the Greeks In tranfport gaze, as down their op'ning ranks The king proceeds : from whole fuperior frame A foul like thine, O Phidias, might conceive In Parian marble, or effulgent brafs The form of great Apollo; when the god, Won by the pray'rs of man's afrUdled race, In arms forfook his lucid throne to pierce The monfter Python in the Delphian vale. Clofe by the hero Polydorus waits To guide deftrudlion through the Afian tents. As the young eagle near his parent's fide In wanton flight eflays his vig'rous wing, Ere long with her to penetrate the clouds, To dart impetuous on the fleecy train, And dye his beak in gore ; by Sparta's king The injur'd Polydorus thus prepares His arm for death. He feafts his angry foul On promis'd vengeance. His impatient thoughts Ev'n now tranfport him furious to the feat Of his long forrows, not with fetter'd hands, But now oace more a Spartan with his fpear>

53*

THE WORKS OF GLOVER..

His fhield reftoi'd, to lead his country's bands,

And with them devaftation. Nor the reft

Neglect to form. Thick-rang'd, the helmets blend

Their various plumes, as intermingling oaks

Combine their foliage in Dodona's grove ;

Or as the cedars on the Syrian hills

Their fliady texture fpread. Once more the king,

O'er all the phalanx his confid'rate view

Extending, through the ruddy gleam defcries

One face ofgladnefs; but the godlike van

He moft contemplates : Agis, Alpjieus there,

Megiftias, Maron with Plataea's chief,

Dieneces, Demophilus are feen

With Thefpia's youth : nor they their .fteady fight

From his remove, in fpeechlefs tranfport bound

By love, by veneration ; till they hear

His laft injunction. To their different pofts

They fep'rate. Inftant on the dewy turf

Are caft th' extinguifh'd brands. On all around

Drops fudden darknefs, on the wood, the hill,

The fnowy ridge, the vale, the filver ftream.

It verged on midnight. Tow'rd the hoftile camp

In march compos'd and filent down the pafs

The phalanx mov'd. Each patient bofom hafti'd

Its ftruggling fpirit, nor in whifpers breath'd

The rapc'rous ardour, virtue then infpir'd.

So lowring clouds along th' ethereal void

IB flow cxpanfion from the gloomy north

A while fufpend their horrors, deftin'd foon

To blaze in lightnings, and to burft in ftorras.

BOOK XII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Leonidas and the Grecians penetrate through the Perfian camp to the very pavilion of Xerxes, who avoids deftruction by flight. The bar barians are Slaughtered in great multitudes, and their camp is fet on fire. Leonidas conducts his men in good order back to Thermopylae, engages the Perfians, who were defcended from the hills, and after numberlefs proofs of fuperior ftrength and valour, finks down covered with wounds, and expires the laft of all the Grecian commanders.

ACROSS th' unguarded bound of Afia's camp Slow pafs the Grecians. Through unnum'rous tents, Where all is mute and tranquil, they purfue Their march fedate. Beneath the leaden hand Of fleep lie millions motionlefs and deaf, Nor dream of fate's approach. Their wary foes, By .Polydorus guided, ftill proceed. Ev'n to the centre of th' extenfive hoft They pierce unfeen ; when lo ! th' imperial tent Yet diftant role before them. Spreading round Th T auguft pavilion, was an ample fpace For thoufands in arrangement. Here a band Of chofen Perfians, watchful o'er the king, Held their nocturnal ttation. As the hearts Of anxious nations, whom th' unfparing fword, Or famine threaten, tremble at the fight Of fear engender'd phantoms in the Iky, Aerial holts amid the clouds array'd, Pprtending woe and death ; the Perfian guard In equal confternation now defcry'd The glimpfe of hoftile armour. All difband, As if auxiliar to his favour'd Greeks

Pan held their hanner, fcatt'ring from its folds

Fear and confufion, which to Xerxes couch

Swift -winged, fly ; thence make the gen'ral camp,

Whofe numbers iflue naked, pale, unarm'd,

Wild in amazement, blinded by difmay,

To ev'ry foe obnoxious. In the breafts

Of thoufands, gor'd at once, the Grecian fteel

Reeks in deftruction. Deluges of blood

Float o'er the field, and foam around the heaps

Of wretches, {lain unconfcious of the hand,

Which wailes their helplefs multitude. Amaze,

Affright, diftraction from his pillow chafe

The lord of Alia, who in thought beholds

United Greece in arms. Thy luft of pow'r !

Thy hope of glory ! whither are they flown

With all thy pomp ? In this difaft'rous hour

What could avail the immeafurable range

Of thy proud camp, fave only to conceal

Thy trembling fteps, O Xerxes, while thou fly'fl, ?

To thy deferted couch with other looks

With other fteps Leonidas is nigh.

Before him terror ftrides. Gigantic death,

And defolation at his fide attend.

The vaft pavilion's empty fpace, where lamps Of gold flied light and odours, now admits The hero. Ardent throngs behind him prefs, But mifs their victim. To the ground are hurl'd The glitt'ring enfigns of imperial flats. The diadem, the fceptre, late ador'd [feet

Through boundlefs kingdoms, underneath their In mingled rage and fcorn the warriors crufh A facrifice to freedom. They return Again to form. Leonidas exalts, For new deftruction his refiftlefs fpear; When double darknefs fuddenly defcends. The clouds, condenfing, intercept the ftars. Black o'er the furrow'd main the raging eaft In whirlwinds fweeps the furge. The coafts re- found.

The cavern'd rocks, the crafting forefts roar. Swift through the camp the hurricane impells Its rude career ; when Afia's numbers, veil'd Amid the fhelt'ring horrors of the ftorm, Evade the victor's lance. The Grecians halt ; While to their gen'ral's pregnant mind occurs A new attempt and vaft. Perpetual fire Befide the tent of Xerxes from the hour, He lodg'd his ftandards on the Malian plains, Had fhone. Among his Magi to adore Great Horomazes was the monarch wont Before the facred light. Huge piles of wood Lay nigh, prepar'd to feed the conftant flame. On living embers thefe are caft. So wills Leonidas. The phalanx then divides. Four troops are form'd, by Dithyrambus led, By Alpheus, by Diomedon, The laft Himfelf conducts. The word is giv'n. They

feize

The burning fuel. Sparkling in the wind, Deftructive fire is b,randifh'd. All, enjoin'd To reaflemble at the regal tent, By various paths the hoitile camp invade.

Now devaftation, unconfin'd, involves The Malian fields. Among Barbarian tents From diff'rent ftations fly confuming flames. The Greeks afford no refpite ; and the ftorm Exafperates the blaze. To ev'ry part The conflagration like a fea expands,

L E O N 1 D A S.

One waving furfacc of unbounded fire.

In ruddy volumes mount the curling flames

To heav'n's dark vault, and paint the midnight

clouds.

So, when the north emits his purpled lights, The undulated radiance, ftrcaming wide, As with a burning canopy invcils Th' ethereal concave. Oeta now difclos'd His forehead, glitt'ring in eternal frofl ; "While down his rocks the foamy torrents fhone. Far o'er the main the pointed rays were thrown ; Night fnatch'd her mantle from the ocean's bread ; The billows glimmer'd from the diftant ihores.

But lo ! a pillar huge of fmoke afcends, Which overfhades the field. There horror, there Leonidas prefides. Command he gave To Polydorus, who, exulting, ftiow'd Where Afia's horfe, and warlike cars poflefs'd A crowded ftation. At the hero's nod Devouring Vulcan riots on the ftores Of Ceres, empty'd of the ripen'd grain, On all the tribute from her meadows brown, By rich TheiTalia render'd to the fcythe. A flood of fire envelopes all the ground. The cordage burfts around the blazing tents. Down fink the roofs on iuffbcated throngs, Clofe-wedg'd by fear. The l.ybian chariot burns. Th' Arabian camel, and the 1'erfian fteed Bound through a burning deluge. Wild with pain They ftiake their fmged manes. Their madding

hoofs.

Dafh through the blood of thqufands, mix'd with

flames, Which rage, augmented by the whirlwind's blaft.

Meantime the fcepter'd lord of half the globe From tent to tent precipitates his flight. Difpers'd are all his fatraps. Pride herfelf Shuns his dejected brow. Defpair alone Waits on th' imperial fugitive, and fhows, As round the camp his eye, diftraded, roves, No limits to deftruction. Now is feen Aurora, mounting from her eaftern hill In rofy fandals, and with dewy locks. The winds fubfide before her; darknefs flies; A ftream of light proclaims the cheerful day, Which fees at Xerxes' tent the conqu'ring bands, All reunited. What could fortune more To aid the valiant, what to gorge revenge ? J,o ! defolation o'er the adverfe hoft Hath empty'd all her terrors. Ev'n the hand Of languid (laughter dropt the crimfon fteel; Nor nature longer can fuftain the toil Of unremitted conqueft. Yet what pow'r Among thefe fons of liberty reviv'd Their drooping warmth, new-ftrung their nerves,

recall'd

Their weary'd fwords to deeds of brighter fame ? What, but th' infpiring hope of glorious death To crown their labours, and th' aufpicious look Of their heroic chief, which, ftill unchang'd, Still in fuperior majefty declar'd, No toil had yet relax'd his matchlefs ftrength, Nor worn the vigour of his godlike foul.

Back to the pals in gentle march he leads Th' embattled wariors. They behind the fhrubs, Where Medon fent fuch numbers to the fhades, In ambufti lie. The tempeft is o'erblown. hoft breezes only from the Malian \vayc

O'er each grim face, befmear'd with fmoke and

gore,

Their cool refrefliment breathe. The healing gale, A cryftal rill near Oeta's verdant feet Difpel the languor from their ha: afs'd nerves, Freih brac'd by ftrength returning. O'er their

heads

Lo ! in full blaze of majefty appears Melifla, bearing in her hand divine Th' eternal guardian of illuftrious deeds, The fweet Phcebean lyre. Her graceful train Of white-rob'd virgins, feated on a range Half down the cliff, o'erfhadowing the Greeks, All with concordant firings, and accents clear A torrent pour of melody, and fwell A high, triumphal, folemn dirge of praife, Anticipating fame. Of endids joys In blels'd Elyfium was the long. Go, meet Lycurgus, Solon and Zaleucus fage, Let them falute the children of their laws. Meet Homer, Orpheus and th' Afcrxan bard, Who with a fpirit, by ambrofial food Refin'd, and more exalted, fhull contend Your fplendid fate to warble through the bow'rg Of amaranth and myrtle ever young ' Like your renown. Your aflies we will culL In yonder fane depofited, your urns Dear to the mufes fhall our lays infpire. Whatever off'rings, genius, fcience, art Can dedicate to virtue, fhall be yours, The gifts of all the mufes, to tranfmit You on th' enliven'd canvafs, marble, brafs, In wifdom's volume, in the poet's fong, Iri ev'ry tongue, through ev'ry age and clime, You of this earth the brighteft flow'rs, not cropt, Tranfplanted only to immortal bloom Of praife with men, of happinefs with gods.

The Grecian valour on religion's flame To ecftafy is wafted. Death is nigh. As by the graces fafhion'd, he appears A beauteous form. His adamantine gate Is half unfolded. All in tranfport catch A glimpfe of immortality. Elate In rapturous delufion they believe, That to behold and folemnize their fate The goddefles are prefent on the hills With celebrating lyres. In thought ferene Leonidas the kind deception blefs'd, Nor undeceiv'd his foldiers. After all Th' inceflant labours of the horrid night, Through blood, through flames continu'd, he pre

pares

In order'd battle to confront the pow'rs Of Hyperanthes from the upper ftreights.

Not long the Greeks in expectation wait Impatient. Sudden with tumultuous fhouts Like Nile's rude current, where in deaf 'ning roar Prone from the deep of Elephantis falls A fea of waters, Hyperanthes pours His chofen numbers on the Grecian camp Down from the hills precipitant. No foes He finds. The Thebans join him. In his yan They march conductors. On, the Perfians roll In martial thunder through the founding pafs. They iflue forth impetuous from its mouth. That moment Sparta's leader gave the fign; When, as th' impulfive ram in forceful fway O'erturns a nodding rampart from its bafe,

540 THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

And {trews a town with ruin, fo the band Of ferry'd heroes down the Malian fteep,

Tremendous depth, the mix'd battalions fwept Of Thebes and Pcrfia. There no waters flow'd. Abrupt and naked all was rock beneath. JLconidas, incens'd, with grappling ftrength BafiVd Anaxander on a pointed crag ; Compos'd, then gave new orders. At the word His phalanx, wheeling, penetrates the pafs. Aftonifh'd Perfia flops in full career. Ev'n Hyperanthes {brinks in wonder back. Confufion drives frefh numbers from the Ihore. The Malian ooze o'erwhelms them. Sparta's

king

Still preflcs forward, till an open breadth Of fifty paces yields his front extent To proffer battle. Hyperantlies foon Recalls his warriors, diffipates their fears. Swift on the great Leomdas a cloud [clofe.

Of darts is ihow'r'd. Th' encount'ring armies

Who firil, fublimeft hero, felt thy arm ? "What rivers heard along their echoing banks Thy name, in curfes founded from the lips Of noble mothers, wailing for their fons ? What towns with empty monuments were fill'd For thole, whom thy unconquerable fword This day to vulture* caft ? Firft Beffus died, A haughty fatrap, whofe tyrannic fway DefpoilM Hyrcania of her golden {heaves, And laid her forefts wafte. For him the bees Among the branches interwove their fweets; For him the fig was ripen'd, and the vine In rich profufion o'er the goblet foam'd. Then Dinis bled. On Hermus' fide he reign'd ; He long afllduous, unavailing woo'd The martial queen of Cariu. She difdain'd A lover's foft complaint Her rigid ear Was fram'd to watch the tempeft, while it rag'd. Her eye accuflom'd on the rolling deck To brave the turgid billow. Near the fhore She now is prefent in her pinnace light. The fpe&acle of glory crowds her breail With diff'rent pailions. Valiant, (he applauds The Grecian valour; faithful, (he laments Her fad pn:fage of Perfia ; prompts her fon To emulation of the Greeks in arms, And of herfelf in loyalty. By fate Js fhe referv'd to fignalize that day Of future fhame, when Xerxes mufl behold The blood of nations overflow his decks, And to their bottom tinge the briny floods Of Salamis ; whence fhe with Afia flies, She only not inglorious. Low reclines Her lover now, on Hermus to repeat Her name no more, nor tell the vocal groves His fruitlefs forrows. Next Maduces fell, A Paphlagonian. Born amid the found Of chafing furges, and the roar of winds, He o'er th' inhofpitable Euxine foam Was wont from high Carambis' rock to ken Ill-fated keels, which cut the Pontic dream, Then with his dire affociates through the deep For fpoil and flaughter guide his favage prow. Him dogs will rend afhore. From Medus far, Their native current, two bold brothers died, Sifamnes and Tithrauftes, potent lords Of rich domains. On thefe Mithrines gray, Cilician prince, Liiceus, v.ho had left

The balmy fragrance of Arabia's fields With Babylonian Tenagon expir'd.

The growing carnage Hyperanthes views Indignant, fierce in vengeful ardour flrides Againfl the vidtor. Each his lance protends; But Afia's numbers interpofe their fhields, Solicitous to guard a prince rever'd : Or thither fortune whelm'd the tide of war^ His term protracting for augmented fame. So two proud veffels, lab'ring on the foam, Prefent for battle their deftruclive beaks; When ridgy feas, by hurricanes uptorn, In mountainous commotion dafh between, And either deck, in black'ning tempefts veil'd, Waft from its diftant foe. More fiercely burn'd Thy fpirit, mighty Spartan. Such difmay Relax'd thy foes, that each Barbarian heart Refign'd all hopes of victory. The fteeds Of day were climbing their meridian height. Continu'd fhouts of onfet from the pafs Refounded o'er the plain. Artuchus heard. When firil the fpreading tumult had alarm'd His diftant quarter, flarting from repofe, He down the valley of Spercheos rulh'd To aid his regal mafter. Afia's camp He found the feat of terror and defpair. As in fome fruitful clime, which late hath known The rage of winds and floods, although the

ftorm

Be heard no longer, and the deluge fled, Still o'er the wafted region nature mourns In melancholy filence ; through the grove With proftrate glories lie the {lately oak, Th' uprooted elm and beach ; the plain isfpread With fragments, fwept from villages o'erthrown, Around the paflures flocks and herds are caft In dreary piles of death : fo Perfia's hoft In terror mute one bound-lei's fcene difplays Of devaftation. Half-devour'd by fire, Her tall pavilions, and her martial cars Deform the wide encampment. Here in gore Her princes welter, namelefs thoufands there, Not viclmis all to Greeks. In gafping heaps Barbarians, mangled by Barbarians, fliow'd The wild confufioH of that direful night ; When, wanting fignals, and a leader's care, They ruih'd on mutual flaughter. Xerxes' tent On its exalted fummit, when the dawn Firft ftreak'd the orient fky, was wont to bear The golden form of Mithra, clos'd between Two lucid cryftals. This the gen'ral hoft Obferv'd, their awful fignal to arrange In arms complete, and numberiefs to watch Their monarch's rifing. This confpicuous blaze Artuchus places in th' accuftom'd feat. As, after winds have ruffled by a ftorm The plumes of darknefs, when her welcome face The morning lifts ferene, each wary fwain Collects his flock difpers'd ; the neighing fteed, The herds forfake their flicker : all return To well-known paftures, and frequented ftreams: So now this cheering fignal on the tent Revives each leader. From inglorious flight Their fcatter'd bands they call, their wonted

ground

Refume, and hail Artuchus. From their fwarma A force he culls. Thermopylae he feeks. Fell ihouts in horrid diffonance precede.

L E O N I D A S.

541

His phalanx fwlft Leonidas commands To circle backward from the Malian bay. Their order changes. Now, half-orb'd, they Hand By Oeta's fence protected from behind, With either flank united to the rock. As by th' excelling architect difpos'd To fhield fome haven, a ftupendous mole, Fram'd of the grove and quarry's mingled flrength, In ocean's bofom penetrates afar : There, pride of art, immoveable it looks On Eolus and Neptune ; there defies Thofe potent gods combin'd : unyielding thus, The Grecians flood a folid mafs of war Againft Artuchus, join'd with numbers new To Hyperanthes. In the foremoft rank Leonidas his dreadful Ration held. Around him fcon a fpacious void was feen By flight, or flaughter in the Pcrfian van. In gen'rousjhame and wrath Artuchus burns, Difcharging full at Lacedemon's chief An iron-fludded mace. It glanc'd afide, Turn'd by the maffy buckler. Prone to earth The fatrap fell. Alcander aim'd his point, Which had transfix'd him proftrate on the rock, But for th' immediate fuccour, he obtain'd From faithful foldiers, lifting on their ihields A chief belov'd. Not fuch Alcander's lot. An arrow wounds his heart. Supine he lies, The only Thebau, who to Greece preferv'd Unviolatcd faith. Phyfician fage, On pure Cithxron healing hcibs to cull Was he accuftom'd, to expatiate o'er The Heliconian paftures, where no plants Of poilbn fpring, of juice falubrious all, Which vipers, winding in their verdant track, Drink and expel the venom from their tooth, Dipt in the fweetnefs of that foil divine. On him the brave Artontes finks in death, Renown'd through wide Bithynia, ne'er again The clam'rous rites of Cybele to fhare ; While echo murmurs through the hollow caves Of Berecynthian Dindymus. The ftrength Of Alphcus fent him to the fliades of night. Ere from the dead was difengag'd the fpear, Huge Abradates, glorying in his might, Surpaifing all of Cifiian race, advanc'd To grapple ; planting firm his foremoft ftep, The victor's throat he grafp'd. At Nemea's game The wrcftler's chaplet Alpheus had obtain'd. He fummons all his art. Oblique the ftroke Of his 1'wift foot fupplants the Perfian's heel. He, falling, clings by Alphcus' neck, and drags His foe upon him. In the Spartan's back Enrag'd Barbarians fix their thronging fpears. To Abradates' cheft the weapons pafs ; They rivet both in death. This Maron fees, This Polydorus, frowning. Victims, ftrewn Before their vengeance, hide their brother's corfe At length the gen'rous blood of Maron warms The i'word of Hyperanthes. On the fpear Of Polydorus falls the pond'rous ax Of Sacian Mardus. From the yielding wood The fleely point is fever'd. Undifmay'd, The Spartan {loops to rear the knotted mace, Left by Artuchus ; but thy fatal blade, Abrocomes, that dreadful inflant watch'd To rend his op'ning fide. Unconquer'd ft ill, Swift he difqharjjes on the Saci4u' front

pond'rous blow, which burft the fcatter'd brain, own his own limbs meantime a torrent flows f vital crimfon. Smiling, he reflects n forrow finifh'd, on his Spartan name, Renew'd in luftre. Sudden to his fide prings Dithyrambus. Through th'-uplifted arm f Mindus, pointing a malignant dart Againft the dying Spartan, he impell'd His fpear. The point with violence unfpent, Urg'd by fuch vigour, reach'd the Perfian's throat, Above his corfelet. Polydorus ftretch'd His languid hand to Thefpia's friendly youth, 'hen bow'd his head in everlafting peac"e. While Mindus, wafted by his dreaming wound, Befide him faints and dies. In flow'ring prime He, lord of Colchis, from a bride was torn His tyrant's hafty mandate to obey, he tow'rd the Euxine fends her plaintive fighs; he woos in tender piety the winds : Vain is their favour ; they can never breathe On his returning fail. At once a crowd Of eager Perfians feize the victor's fpear. One of his nervous hands retains it fait. The other bares his falchion. Wounds and death

fcatters round. Sofarmes feels his arm ^opt from the ihoulder. Zatis leaves entwin'd His fingers round the long-difputed lance. On Mardon's reins defcendsthe pond'rous blade t Which half divides his body. Pheron ftrides Acrofs the pointed afh. His weight o'ercomeft The weary'd Thefpian, who refigns his hold ; But cleaves th' elate barbarian to the brain. Abrocomes darts forward, fliakes his fteel, Whofe lightning- threatens death. The wary

Greek

Wards wiK&iis fword the well-directed ftroke, Then, clofing, throws the Perfian. Now what

aid

Of mortal force, or interpofing heav'n Preferves the eaftern hero ? Lo '. the friend Of Tcribazus. Eager to avenge That lov'd, that loll companion, and defend A brother's life, beneath the finewy arm, Outftretch'd, the fword of Hyperanthes pafs'd Through Dithyrambus. All the ftrings of life At once relax ; nor fame, nor Greece demand More from his valour. Proftrate now he lies In glories, ripcn'd on his blooming head. Him (hall the Thefpian maidens in their fong$ Record once lovelieft of the'youthful train, The gentle, wife, beneficent and brave, Grace of his lineage, and his country's boaft, Now fall'n. Elyfium to his parting foul Unclofes. So the cedar, which fupreme Among the groves of Llbanus hath taw'r'd, Uprooted, low'rs his graceful top, preferr'd For dignity of growth fome royal dome, Or heav'n-devoted fabric to adorn. Diomtden burfts forward. Round his friend He heaps dettruction. Troops of wailing ghofts Attend thy lhade, fall'n hero ! Long prevail'd His furious arm in vengeance uncontroul'd ; Till four Aflyrians on his (helving fpear, Ere from a Cifilan's proftrate body freed, Their pond'rous maces all difcharge. It brokCt Still With a fliatter'd truncheon he maintains Unequal fight. Impetuous through his eye

54*

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

The well aim'd fragment penetrates the brain Of one bold warrior ; there the fplinter'd wood, Infix'cl, remains. The hero laft unflieaths His falchion broad. A fecond fees aghaft His entrails open'd. Sever'd from a third, The head, fteel cas'd defcends. In blood isroll'd The grizly beard. That effort breaks the blade Short from its hilt. The Grecian (lands difarm'd. The fourth, Aftafpes, proud Chaldean lord, Is nigh. He lifts his iron-plated mace. This, while a clufter of auxiliar friends Hang on the Grecian fhield. to earth deprefs'd, Loads with unerring blows the batter'd helm ; Till on the ground Diomedon extends His mighty limbs. So waken'd by the force Of fome tremendous engine, which the hand Of Mars impels, a citadel, high-tow'r'd, Whence darts, and fire, and ruins, long have aw'd Begirding legions, yields at laft, and fpreads Its difuniting ramparts on the ground ; Joy fills th' aflailants, and the battle's tide [thus Whelms o'er the widening breach : the Perfian O'er the late-fear'd Diomedon advanc'd .Againft the Grecian remnant: when behold Leonidas. At once their ardour froze. He had a while, behind his friends retir'd, Opprefs'd by labour. Pointlefs was his fpear, His buckler cleft. As, overworn by ftorms, A vefifel fteers to fome protecting bay ; Then, foon as timely gales inviting, curl The azure floods, to Neptune (hows again Her mails apparell'd frefti in (hrowds and fails, Which court the vig'rous wind : So Sparta's king, In ftrength repair'd, a fpear and buckler new Prefents to Afia. From her bleeding ranks Hydarnes, urg'd by deftiny, approadKfj. He, proudly vaunting, left an infant race, A fpoufe lamenting on the diftant verge Of Baclrian Ochus. Victory in vain He, parting promis'd. Wanton hope will fport Round his cold heart no longer. Grecian fpoils, Imagin'd triumphs, pictur'd on his mind, Fate will erafe for ever. Through the targe, The thick-mail'd corfelet his divided cheft Of bonny ftrength admits the hoftile fpear. Leonidas draws back the fteely point, Bent and enfeebled by the forceful blow. Meantime within his buckler's rim unfeen, Amphifteus dealing, in th' unguarded flank His dagger ftruck. In flow effufion ooz'd The blood, from Hercules deriv'd ; but death Not yet had reach'd his mark. Th' indignant

king

Gripes irrefiftibly the Perfian's throat. He drags him proftrate. Falfe, corrupt, and bafe, Fallacious, fell, pre-eminent was he Among tyrannic fatraps. Phrygia pin'd Beneath th' opprefllon of his ruthlefs fway. Her foil had once been fruitful. Once her towns Were populous and rich. The direful change To naked fields and crumbling roofs declar'd Th' accurs'd Amphiftreus govern'd. As the fpear Of Tyrian Cadmus rivetted to earth The pois'nous dragon, whofe infectious breath Had blafted all Bceotia; ib the king, On prone Amphiftreus trampling, to the rock Nails down the tyrant, and the fractured ftaff

Leaves in his panting body. But the blood. Great hero, dropping from thy wound, revives The hopes of Perfia. Thy unyielding arm Upholds the conflict ftill. Againft thy fhield The various weapons fliiver, and thy feet With glitt'ring points furround. The Lydian

Yword;

The Perfian dagger leave their fhatter'd hilts'; Bent is the Cafpian fcimitar : the lance, The javelin, dart, and arrow all combine Their fruitlefs efforts. From Alcides fprung, Thou ftand'ft unfliaken like a Thracian hill, Like Rhodope, or Haemus ; where in vain The thund'rer plants his livid bolt ; in vain Keen-pointed lightnings pierce th' incrufted fnow ; And winter, beating with eternal war, Shakes from his dreary wings difcordant ftorms, Chill fleet, and clatt'ring hail. Advancing bold, His rapid lance Abrocomes in vain Aims at the forehead of Laconia's chief. He, not unguarded, rears his active blade Athwart the dang'rous blow, whofe fury waftes Above his creft in air. Then fwiftly wheel'd, The pond'rous weapon cleaves the Perfian's knee Sheer through the parted bone. He fidelong

falls.

Crufh'd on the ground beneath contending feet, Great Xerxes' brother yields the laft remains Of tortur'd life. Leonidas perfifts ; Till Agis calls Dieneces, alarms Demophilus, Megiftias : they o'er piles Of Allarodian and Safperian dead Hafte to their leader : They before him raife The brazen bulwark of their mafly fliields. The foremoft rank of Afia (lands and bleeds ; The reft recoil^: but Hyperanthes fwift From band to band his various hoft pervades, Their drooping hopes rekindles, in the brave New fortitude excites : the frigid heart Of fear he warms. Aftafpes firft obeys, Vain of his birth, from ancient Belus drawn. Proud of his wealthy ftores, his ftately domes, More proud in recent victory : his might Had foil'd Platasa's chief. Before the front He ftrides impetuous. His triumphant mace Againft the brave Dieneces he bends. The weighty blow bears down th' oppoflng fhield, And breaks the Spartan's (houlder. Idle hangs The weak defence, and loads th' inactive arm, Depriv'd of ev'ry function. Agis bares His vengeful blade, At two well levelled ftrokes Of both his hands, high brandilhing the mace, He mutilates the foe. A Sacian chief Springs on the victor. Jaxartes' banks To this brave favage gave his name and birth. His look erect, his bold deportment fpoke A gallant fpirit, but untam'd by laws, With dreary wilds familiar, and a race Of rude barbarians, horrid, as their clime. From its direction glanc'd the Spartan fpear, Which, upward borae, o'erturn'd his iron cone. Black o'er his forehead fall the naked locks ; They aggravate his fury : while his foe Repeats the ftroke, and penetrates his cheft. Th' intrepid Sacian through his breaft and back. leceives the girding fteel. Along the ftaff He writhes his tortur'd body j in his grafp

L E N I D A S.

A barbed arrow from his quiver makes ; Deep in the ftreaming throat of Agis hides The deadly point ; then grimly fmiles and dies.

From him fate haftens to a nobler prey, Dieneces. His undefended frame The fliield abandons, Hiding from his arm. His breaft is gor'd by javelins. On the foa He hurls them back, extracted from his wounds. Life, yielding flew to deftiny, at length Forfakes his riven heart ; nor lefs in death Thermopylae he graces, than before By martial deeds and conduct. What can ftem The barb'rous torrent? Agis bleeds. Hisfpear Lies ufelefs, irrecoverably plung'd In Jaxares' body. Low reclines Dieneces. LeonidaS himfelf, O'erlabour'd, wounded with his dinted fword The rage of war can exercife no more. One laft, one glorious eftbrt age performs. Demephilus, Megiftias join their might. They check the tide of conqueft ; while the fpear Of (lain Dieneces to Sparta's chief The fainting Agis bears. The pointed afli, In that dire hand for battle rear'd anew, Blafts ev'ry Perfian's valour. Back in heaps They roll confounded, by their gen'ral's voice In vain exhorted longer to endure The cealelefs wafte of that unconquer'd arm. So, when the giants from Olympus chas'd Th inferior gods, themfelves in terror (hunn'd Th' inceflant ftreamsjof lightning, where the hand Of heavVs great father with eternal might Suftain'd the dreadful conflict. O'er the rieid A while Bellona gives the battle reft ; When Thefpia's leader and Megiftias drop At either fide of Lacedemon's king. Beneath the weight of years and labour bend The hoary warriors. Not a groan molefts Their parting fpirits ; but in death's calm night All filent finks each venerable head : Like aged oaks, whofe deep-defcending roots Had pierc'd refiftlefs through a craggy flope; There during three long centuries have brav'd Malignant Eurus, and the boiiterous north } Till bare and faplefs by corroding time "Without a blaft their mbfly trunks recline Before their parent hill. Not one remains, But Agis, near Leonid as, whofe hand The laft kind office to his friend performs. Extracts the Sacian's arrow. Life, releas'd. Pours forth in crimfon floods. O Agis, pale Thy placid features, rigid are thy limbs; [veal They lofe their graces. Dimm'd, thy eyes re- The native goodnefs of thy heart no more. Yet other graces fpring. The noble corfe Leonidasfurveys. A paufe he finds To mark, how lovely are the patriot's wounds,

And fee thofe honours on the breaft he lo'vd But Hyperanthes from the trembling ranks Of Afia tow'rs, inflexibly refolv'd The Perfian glory to redeem, or fall. The Spartan, worn by toil, his languid arm Uplifts once more. He waits the dauntlefs prince, The heroes ftand adverfe. Each a while Reftrains his valour. "Each, admiring, view His godlike foe. At length their brandifh'd points Provoke the conteft, fated foon to clofe The long-continu'd horrors of the day. Fix'd in amaze and fear, the Afian throng, Unmov'd and filent on their bucklers paufe. Thus on the waftes of India, while the earth Beneath him groans, the elephant is feen, His huge probofcis writhing, to defy The ftrong rhinoceros, whofe ponderous horn Is newly whetted on a rock. Anon Each hideous bulk encounters. Earth her groan Redoubles. Trembling, from their covert ga2e The favage inmates of (unrounding woods In diftant terror. By the vary'd art Of either chief the dubious combat long Its great event retarded. Now his lance Far through the hoftile fhield Laconia's king Impell'd. Afide the Perfian fwung his arm. Beneath it pafs'd the weapon, which his targe Encumber'd. Hopes of conqueft and renown Elate his courage. Sudden he directs His rapid javelin to the Spartan's throat. But he his wary buckler upward rais'd, Which o'er his fhoulder turn'd the glancing fteel; For one laft effort then his fcatter'd ftrength Collecting, levell'd with refiftlefs force The maflive orb, and dafli'd its brazen verge Full on the Perfian's forehead. Down he funk, Without a groan expiring, as o'erwhelm'd Beneath a marble fragment, from his feat Heav'd by a whirlwind, fweeping o'er the ridge Of fome afpiring manfion. Gen'rous prince ! What could his valour more ? His fingle might He match'd with great Leonidas, and fell Before his native bands. The Spartan king Now ftands alone. In heaps his flaughter'd friends. All ftretch'd around him lie. The diftant foes Shovv'r on his head innumerable darts. From various fluices gufh the vital floods ; They ftain his fainting limbs. Nor yet with pain His brow is clouded ; but thofe beauteous wounds, The facred pledges of his own renown, And Sparta's fafety, in fereneft joy His clofing eye contemplates. Fame can twine No brighter laurels round his glorious head; i His virtue more to labour fate forbids, And lays him now in honourable reft To feal his country's liberty by death.

44

WORKS OF GLOVER*

MISCELLANIES.

POEM ON SIR ISAAC NEWTON.

To Newton's genius and immortal fame, Th' advent'rous mufewith trembling pinions foars. Thou, heav'nly truth, from thy feraphio throne Look favourable down, do thou afiift My laboring though^ do thou infpire my fong. Newton, who firft th' Almighty's works difplay'd, And fmooth'd that mirror, in whofe polifh'd face The great Creator now confpicuous (nines ; Who open'd nature's adamantine gates, And to our minds her fecret powers exposed; Newton demands the mufe ; his facred hand Shall guide her infant fteps ; his facred hand Shall raife her to the Heliconian height, Where, on its lofty top enthron'd, her head Shall mingle with the ftars. Hail nature, hail, O goddefs, handmaid of th' ethereal power, Now lift thy head, and to th' admiring world Show thy long hidden beauty. Thee the wife Of ancient fame, immortal Plato's felf, The Stagyrite, and Syracufian fage, From black obfcurity's abyfs to raife, (Drooping and mourning o'er thy wondrous works) With vain inquiry fought. Like meteors thefe In their dark age bright fons of wifdom (hone : But at thy Newton all their laurels fade, They ftirink from all the honours of their names. So glimm'ring ftars contract their feeble rays, When the fwift luftre of Aurora's face Flows o'er the ikies, and wraps the heav'ns in

light.

The Deity's omnipotence, the caufe, Th' original of things long lay unknown. Alone the beauties prominent to fight (Of the celeftial power the outward form) Drew praife and wonder from the gazing world. As when the deluge overfpread the earth, Whilft yet the mountains only rear'd their heads Above the furface of the wild espanfe, Whelm'd deep below the great foundations lay, Till fome kind angel at heav'n's high command Roll'd back the riling tides, and haughty floods, And to the ocean thunder'd out his voice : Quick all the fwelling and imperious waves, The foaming billows and obfcuring furge, Back to their channels and their ancient feats Recoil affrighted : from the darkfome main Earth raifes fmiling, as new-born, her head, And with freih charms her lovely face arrays. So his extenfive thought accomplifli'd firft The mighty tafk to drive th' obftrucling mifts Of ignorance away, beneath whofe gloom Th' unlhrouded majefty of nature lay. He drew the veil and fweil'd the fpreading fcene

How had the moon around th' ethereal void.

Rang'd, and eluded lab'ring mortals care,

Till his invention trac'd her fecret fteps,

While file inconftant with unfteady rein

Through endlefs mazes and meanders guides

In its unequal courfe her changing car :

Whether behind the fun's fuperior light

She hides the beauties of her radiant face,

Or, when confpicuous, fmiles upon mankind,

Unveiling all her night-rejoicing charms.

When thus the filver-trefied moon difpels

The frowning horrors from the brow of night,

And with her fplendours cheers the fullen gloom,

While fable-mantled darknefs with his veil

The vifage of the fair horizon fhades,

And over nature fpreads his raven wings ;

Let me upon fome unfrequented green

While fleep fits heavy on the drowfy world,

Seek out fome folitary peaceful cell,

Where darkfome woods around their gloomy brows

Bow low, and ev'ry hill's protended fhade

Obfcures the dufky vale, there filent dwell,

Where contemplation holds its ftill abode,

There trace the wide and pathlefs void of heav'n,

And count the ftars that fparkle on its robe.

Or elfe in fancy's wild'ring mazes loft

Upon the verdure fee the fairy elves

Dance o'er their magic circles, or behojd,

In thought enraptur'd with the ancient bards,

Medea's baleful incantations draw

Down from her orb the paly queen of night.

But chiefly Newton let me foar with thee,

And while furveying all yon ftarry vault

With admiration I attentive gaze,

Thou fhalt defcend from thy celeftial feat,

And waft aloft my high-afpiring mind,

Shalt ihow me there how nature has ordain'd

Her fundamental laws, fhalt lead my thought

Through all the wand'rings of th' uncertain moon.

And teach me all her operating powers.

She and the fun with influence conjoint

W'ield the huge axle of the whirling earth,

And from their juft direction turn the poles,

Slow urging on the progrefs of the years.

The conftellations feem to leave their feats,

And o'er the Ikies with folemn pace to move.

You, fplendid rulers of the day and night,

The feas obey, at your refiftlefs fway

Now they contract their waters, and expofe

The dreary defert of old ocean's reign.

The craggy rocks their horrid fides difclofe ;

Trembling the failor views the dreadful fcene,

And cautioufly the threat'ning ruin fliuns.

But where the (hallow waters hide the lands,

There ravenous destruction lurks cqnceal'd,

MISCELLANIES.

545

There the ill-guided veffel falls a prey, And all her numbers gorge his greedy jaws. But quick returning lee th' impetuous tifles Back to th' abandon'd (hores impell the main. Again the foaming feas extend their waves, Again the rolling floods embrace the mores, And veil the horrors of the empty deep. Thus the obfequious feas your power confefs, While from the furface healthful vapours rife, Plenteous throughout the atmofphere diffus'd, Or to fupply the mountain's heads with fprings, Or fill the hanging clouds with needful rains, That friendly ftreams, and kind refrefliing mow'rs, May gently lave the (tin-burnt thirfty plains, Or to replenifli all the empty air With wholefome moifture to increafe the fruits Of earth, and blefs the labours of mankind. O Newton, whither flies thy mighty foul, How (hall the feeble mufe purfue through all The vaft extent of thy unbounded thought, That even fecks th' unfeen recefles dark Te penetrate of Providence immenfe. And thou the great Difpeiifer ef the world Propitious, who with infpiration taught'ft Our greateft bard to fend thy praifes forth ; Thou, who gav'ft Newton thought ; who fmil'dft

ferene,

When to its bounds he ftretch'd his fwelling foul ; Who ftill benignant ever Weft his toil, And deign'd to his enlight'ned mind t* appea* Confefs'd around th' interminated world : To me, O thy divine infufion grant (O thou in all fo infinitely good) That I may fing thy everlafting works, Thy unexhaufted ftore of providence, In thought effulgent and refounding verfe> O could I fpread the wond'rous theme around, Where the wind cools the oriental world, To the calm breezes of the Zephyr's breath, To where the frozen hyperborean blafts, To where th' boilt'rous tempeft-leading fouth From their deep hollow caves fend forth their

ftorms.

Thou ftill indulgent Parent of mankind, Left humid emanations mould no more Flow from the ocean, but diflblve away Through the long feries of revolving time ; And left the vital principle decay, By which the air fupplies the fprings of life ; Thou haft the fiery vilag'd comets form'd With vivifying fpirits all replete, Which they abundant breathe about the void, Renewing the prolific foul of things. No longer now on thee amaz'd we call, '' !No longer tremble at imagin'd ills, When comets blaze tremendous from on high, Or when extending wide their flaming trains With hideous grafp the fkies engirdle round, And fpread the terrors of their burning locks. For thefe through orbits in the lengthening fjjace Of many tedious roiling years complete Around the fun move regularly on ; And with the planets in harmonious orbs, And myftic periods their obeifance pay To him majeftic Ruler of the fkies Upon his throne of circled glory fixt. He or fome god confpicuous to the. view,

Or elfe the fubflitute of nature feems, Guiding the courfes of revolving worlds, He taught great Newton the all-potent laws Of gravitation, by whofe fimple power The univerfe exifts Not here the.fage Big with invention ftili renewing ftaid. But, O bright angel of the lamp of day, How fhall the mufe difplay his greateft toil? Let her plunge deep in Aganippe's waves, Or in Caitalia's ever"-flowing ftrearu, That reinfpired (he may fing to thee, How Newton dar'd advent'rous to unbraid, The yellow trefles of thy fhining hair. Or did'ft thou gracious leave thy radiant fphere, And to his hand thy lucid fplendours give, T' unweave the light-diffunng wreath, and part The blended glories of thy golden plumes ? He with laborious, and unerring care, How different and irabodied colours form Thy piercing light, with juft diftinclion found. He with quick fight purfu'd thy darting rays, When .penetrating to th' obfcure recefs Of folid matter, there perpilcuous favv, How, in the texture of each body lay. The power that feparates the diff'rent b^ams. Hence aver nature's unadorned face Thy bright diverfifying rays dilate Their various hues : and hence when vernal rains Descending i'wift have burft the low'ring clouds, Thy fplendours through the diflipating milts In its fair velture of unnumber'd hues Array the fhow'ry bow. At thy approach The morning rifca from her pearly couch With rofy blufhes decks her virgin cheek ; The ev'ning on the frontifpiece of heav'n His mantle fpreads with many colours gay; The mid-day ikies in radiant azure clad, The fhining clouds, and (ilver vapours rob'd In white tranfparent intermix! with gold, With bright variety of fplendour clothe All the illuminated face above.. When. hoary- headed winter back retires To the chill'd pole, there folitary fits Encompafs'd round with winds and tempeftsbleafe In caverns of impenetrable ice, And from behind the diffipated gloom Like a new Venus from the parting furge The gay-apparell'd fpring advances on; When thou in thy meridian brightnefs fitt'ft, And from thy throne pure emanations flow Of glory burfting o'er the radiant fkies : Then let the mufe Olympus' top alcend, And o'er ThenLlia's plain extend her view, And count, O Tempe, all thy beauties o'er. Mountains,whoiefuramit5.grafp'thependantclouds > Between their wood-inveiop'd Hopes embrace The green-attired vallies. Every flow'r Here in the pride of bounteous nature clad Smiles on the bofom of th' enamell'd meads. Over the fmiling lawn the fiiver Hoods Oi fair Peneus gent y roll along, While the reflected colours from the flow'rs, And verdant borders pierce the limpid waves, And paint with all their variegated hue The yellow lands beneath Smooth gliding on '1 he waters haften to the neighbouring fea. .Still the pleas' d eye the floating plain purfues i. Mm

54*

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

At length, in Neptune's wide dominion loft.

Surveys the fhining billows, that arife

Apparell'd each in Phoebus' bright attire :

Or from afar fome tall majeftic (hip,

Or the long hoftile lines of threat'ning fleets,

Which o'er the bright uneven mirror fweep,

In dazzling gold and waving purple deck'd ;

Such as of old, when haughty Athens pour

Their hideous front and terrible array

Againft Pallene's coaft extended wide,

And with tremendous war and battle ftern

The trembling walls of Potidaeaftiook.

Crefted with pendants curlingwith the breeze

The upright mafts high briltle in the air,

Aloft exalting proud their gilded heads.

The filver waves againft the painted prows

Raife their refplendent bofoms, and impearl

The fair vermilion with their glift'ring drops :

And from on board the iron-clothed hoft

Around the main a gleaming horror cafts;

Each flaming buckler like the mid- day fun,

Each plumed helmet like the filver moon,

Each moving gauntlet like the lightning's blaze,

And like a ftar each brazen pointed fpear.

But, lo 1 the facred high r erec~ted fanes

Fair citadels, and marble-crowned towers,

And fumptuous palaces of ftately towns

Magnificent arife, upon their heads

Bearing on high a wreath of filver light.

But fee my mufe the high Pierian hill,

Behold its fhaggy locks and airy top,

Up to the fkies th' imperious mountain heave-s ;

The fhining verdure of the noddipg woods.

See where the filver Hippocrene llows,

Behold each glitt'ring rivulet and rill

Through mazes wander down the green defcent,

And fparkle through the interwoven trees,

Here reft a while and humble homage pay,

Here, where the facred genius, that infpir'd

Sublime Mieonides and Pindar's breaft,

His habitation once was fnm'd to hold.

Here thou, O Homer, offer'dfl up thy vows;

Thee, the kind mufe Calliopaea heard,

And led thee to the empyrean feats,

There manifefted to thy hallow'd eyes

The deeds of gods ; thee wife Minerva taught

The. wondrous art of knowing human kind ;

Harmonious Phoebus tun'd thy heav'nly mind,

And fwell'd to rapture each exalted fenfe ;

Even Mars the dreadful battle-ruling god,

Mars taught thee war, and with his bloody hand

Inftrudled thine, when in thy founding lines

We hear the rattling of Bellona's car,

The yell of difcord, and the din of arms,

Pindar, when mounted on his fiery deed,

Soars to the fun, oppofing eagle-like

His eyes undazzled to the fierceft rays,

He firmly feated, not like Qlaucus' fon.

Strides his fwift-winged and fire-breathing horfe,

And borne aloft ftrikes with his ringing hoofs

The brazen vault of heav'n, fuperior there

Looks down upon the ftars, whofe radiant light

Illuminates innumerable worlds,

That through eternal orbits roll beneath.

But thou all hail immortalized fon

Of harmony, all hail thou Thracian bard,

TQ whom ApoHo gave his tuneful lyre J

O might'ft thou, Orpheus, now again revive,

And Newton mould inform thy liit'mng ear

How the foft notes, and foul-inchanting ftrains

Of thy own lyre were on the wind convey'd.

He taught the mufe, how found progreffive floats

Upon the waving particles of- air,

When harmony in ever-pleafing ftrains,

Melodious melting at each lulling fall,

With foft alluring penetration fteals

Through the enraptur'd ear to inmoft thought,

And folds the fenfes in its filken bands.

So the fweet mufic, which from Orpheus' touch

And fam'd Amphion's, on the founding firing

Arofe harmonious, gliding on the air,

Pierc'd the tough bark'd and knotty-ribbed wood?,

Into their faps foft infpiration breath'd,

And taught attention to the ftubborn oak.

Thus when great Henry, and brave Marlb'rough

led

Th' embattled numbers of Britannia's fons, The trump, that fwells th' expanded cheek of

fame,

That adds new vigour to the gen'rous youth, And roufes (luggifh cowardice itfelf, The trumpet with its Mars-inciting voice The winds broad breaft impetuous fweeping o'er Fill'd the big note of war. Th' infpired hoft With new-born ardour prefs the trembling Gaul; Nor greater throngs had reach'd eternal night, Not if the fields of Agincourt had yawn'd Expafing horrible the gulf of fate ; Or roaring Danube fpread his arms abroad, And overwhelm'd their legions with his floods. But let the wand'ring mufe at length return; Nor yet, angelic genius of the fun, In worthy lays her high-attempting fong Has blazon'd forth thy venerated name. Then let her fweep the loud-refounding lyre A^ain, again o'er each melodious tiring Teach harmony to tremble with thy praife. And ftill thine ear, O favourable grant, And fhe (hall tell thee, that whatever charm*. Whatever beauties bloom on nature's face, Proceed from thy all-influencing light. That when arifing with tempeftuous rage. The north impetuous rides upon the clouds Ditperfing round the heav'ns obftrudlive gloom, And with his dreaded prohibition ftays The kind effufion of thy genial beams; Pale are the rubies on Aurora's lips, No more the rofes blufh upon her cheeks, Black are Peneus' ftreams and golden fands - In Tempe's vale dull melancholy fits, And every flower reclines its languid head. By what high name fkall I invoke thee, fay, Thou life-infufing deity, on thee I call, and look propitious from on high, While now to thee I offer up my prayer. O had great Newton, as he found the caufe, By which found rolls through th' undulating air, had' he, baffling time's refiftlefs power, Difcover'd what that fubtle fpirit is, Or whatfoe'er diffufive elle is fpread Over the wide -extended univerfe, Which caufes bodies to reflect: the light, And from their ftraight direction to divert The rapid b^ams^ that through their furfacc pierce.

MISCELLANIES.

J47

But fince embraced by th' icy arms of age,

And his quick thought by time's cold hand con-

geal'd,

Ev'n Newton left unknown this hidden power ; Thou from the race of human kind felect Some other worthy of an angel's care, With infpiration animate his bread, And him inftruct in thefe thy fecret laws. O let not Newton, to whofe fpacious view, Now unobftructed, all th' extenfive fcenes Of the ethereal ruler's works arife ; When he beholds this earth he late adorn 'd, Let him not fee philofophy in tears, Like a fond mother folitary fit, Lamenting him her dear, and only child. But as the wife Pythagoras, and he, Whofe birth with pride the fam'd Abdera boads, With expectation having long furvey'd This fpot their ancient feat, with joy beheld Divine philofophy at length appear In all her charms majeftically fair, Conducted by immortal Newton's hand : So may he fee another fage arife, That mail maintain her empire : then no more Imperious ignorance with haughty fway Shall ftalk rapacious o'er the ravag'd globe : Then thou, O Newton, flialt protect thefe lines, The humble tribute of the grateful mule ; Ne'er (hall the facrilegious hand defpoil Her laurell'd temples, whom his name preferves : And were (he equal to the mighty theme, Futurity mould wonder at her fong ; Time fliould receive her with extended arms, Seat her confpicuous in his rolling car, And bear her down to his extremeft bound. Fables with wonder tell how Terra's fons With iron force unloos'd the ftubborn nerves Of hills, and on the cloud-inftuouded top Of Pelion Ofia pil'd. But if the vaft Gigantic deeds of favage ftrength demand Adonimmfnt from men, what then flialt thou, O what expreflive rapture of the foul, When thou before us, Newton, doft difplay The labours of thy great excelling mind ; When thou unveilelt all the wondrous fcene, The vaft idea of th* eternal King, Not dreadful bearing in his angry arm The thunder hanging o'er our trembling heads ; But with th' effulgency of love replete, And clad with power, which form'd th' extenfive

heavens.

O happy he, whofe enterprifing hand Unbars the golden and rclucid gates Of th' empyrean dome, where thou enthron'd Philofophy art feated. Thou fultain'd By the firm hand of everlafting truth Defpifeft all the injuries of time : Thou never know'it decay when all around, Antiquity obfcures her head. Behold Th' Egyptian towers, the Babylonian walls, And Thebes with all her hundred gates of brafs, Behold them fcatter'd like the duit abroad. Whatever now is nourifliing and proud, Whatever mall, muft know devouring age. Euphrates' ftream, and feven-mouthecl Nile, And Danube, thou that from Germania's foil To the black Eiuine's far reraoted fliore,

O'er the wide bounds of mighty nations fweep'ft

In thunder loud thy rapid floods along.

Ev'n you (hall feel inexorable time ;

To you the fatal day (hall come ; no more

Your torrents then (hall fliake the trembling

ground,

No longer then to inundations fwol'n Th' imperious waves the fertile pallures drench, But (hrunk within a narrow channel glide ; Or through the year's reiterated courfe When time- himfelf grows old, your wond'rous

ftrearas

Loft ey'n to memory (hall lie unknown Beneath obfcurity, and chaos whelm'd. But dill thou fun illuminated all The azure regions round, thou guided (till The orbits of the planetary fpheres ; The moon dill wanders o'er her changing courfe, And ftill, O Newton, (hall thy name furvive As long as nature's hand directs the wor!4 f When ev'ry dark obdruction (hall retire, And ev'ry fecret yield its hidden (lore, Which thee dim-fighted age forbade to fee, Age that alone could day thy riCng foul. And could mankind among the fixed dars, E'en to th' extremed bounds of knowledge reach. To thofe unknown innumerable funs, [worlds, Whofe light but glimmers from thofe didant Ev'n to thofe utmoft boundaries, thofe bars Th;it (hut the entrance of th' illumin'd (pace Where angels only tread the vad unknown, Thou ever (hould'ft be feen immortal there : In each new fphere, each new-appearing fun, In farthed regions at the very verge Of the wide univerfe (houl'dft thou be feen. And lo, th' all-potent goddefs nature takes With her own hand thy great, thy juft reward Of immortality ; aloft in air See (he difplays, and with eternal grafp Uprears the trophies of great Newton's fame.

LONDON :

OR, THE PROGRESS QJ COMMERCE.

YE northern blafts,and (a] Eurus, wont to fwcep With rudeft pinions o'er the furrow'd waves, A while inlpend your violence, and waft From fandy(6) Wefer and the broad mouth'd Elbe My freighted veflels to the dcftin'd fliore, Safe o'er th* unruffled iiuin ; let every thought, Which may difquiet, and alarm my bjeaft, Be abfent now ; that difpoflefs'd of care, And free from every tumult of the mind, With each difturbing paflion hyfli'd to peace, I may pour all my fpirit on the theme, Which opens now before me, and demands The loftieft drain. The eagle, when he tow'r* Beyond the clouds, the fleecy robes of heaven, Diidains all objects but the golden fun, Full on th' effulgent orb directs his eye, And fails exulting through the blaze of day ; So, while her wing attempts the boldefl flight. Rejecting each inferior theme of praife, Thee, ornament of Europe, Albion's pride,

(a) The eajl -wind.

(b) JSrtwtfi isjituated on the Wefer, end Hamburgh o;i the Elbe.

M mij

54S

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Fair feat of wealth and freedom, thee my mufe Shall celebrate, O London : thee flie hails. Thou lov'd abode of commerce, lafl retreat. Whence fhe contemplates with a tranquil mind Her various wanderings from the fated hour, That foe abandon'd her maternal clime ; Neptunian commerce, whom Phcenice bore, Ilhiftrioiis nymph, that nam'd the fertile plains Along the founding main extended far, Which flowery Carmel with its fweet perfumes, And with its cedars Libamis o'erihades : Her from the bottom of the wat'ry world, As once {he '-flood, in radiant beauties grac'd, To mark the heaving tide, the piercing eye Of Neptune view'd enamour'd : from the deep The god afcending rufhes to the beach, And clafps the affrighted virgin. From that day, Seon as the paly regent of the night Nine times her monthly progrefs had renew'd Through heaven's illumin'd vault, Phcenice, led By fhame, once more the fea-worn margin fought: There pac'd with painful fteps the barren fands, A folitary mourner, and the furge, Which gently roll'd befide her, now no more With placid eyes beholding, thus exclaim'd : . Ye fragrant fhrubs and cedars, lofty fhade, Which crown my native hills, ye fprea'ding palms, That rife majeftic on thefe fruitful meads, With you who gave the loft Phcenice birth, And you, who bear th' endearing name of friends, Once faithful partners of my charter hours, Farewell 1 TO thee- perfidious god, I come, Bent down with pain and anguiih on thy fands, I come thy fuppliant ; death is all 1 crave ; Bid thy devouring v aves inwrap my head, And to the bottom whelm my cares and fhame !

She ceas'd, when fudden from th' encioftng deep A cryftal car emerged, with glitt'ring fhells, Cull'd from their oozy beds by Tethys' train, And blufhing coral deck'd, whofe ruddy glow Mix'd with the wat'ry luftre of the pearl. A fmiling band of fea-born nymphs attend, Who from the fhore with gentle hands convey The fear-'fub'du'd Phoenice, and along The lucid chariot place. As* there with dread All mute, and ftruggling with her painful throes She lay, the winds by Neptune's high command "Were iilent round her; not- a zephyr dar'd To wanton o'er the cedar's branching top. s Nor on the plain the ftately palm was feen To wavp its graceful verdure ; o'er the main No undulation broke the fmooth expanfe, But all was hufh'd and motiohlefs around, All but die lightly- Hiding car, impeli'd Along the level azure by the ftrength Of active Tritons; rivalling in ipeed The rapid meteor,, whofe fulphureous train Glides o'er the brow of darknefs, and appears The livid ruins of a falling liar.

Beneath the Lybian Ikies, a blifsful ifle, By (r) Triton's floods encircled, Nyfa lay. Here 1 youthful nature wanton'd in delights, And here the guardians of the bounteous horn, While jt was now the infancy of time, Nor yet th' uncultivated globe had karn'd

(<- ) Triten^ a riiitr and lake of ancient Lybia,

To fmile, ( d\ Eucarpe, (*) Dapfilea dwelt, With all the nymphs, whofe facred care had nurs'4 The eldeft Bacchus. From the flow'ry fhore. A turf-clad valley opens, and along Its verdure mild the willing feet allures ; While on its floping fides afcends the pride Of hoary groves, high- arching o'er the vale With day-rejedling gleom. The folemn fhade Half round a fpacious lawn at length expands, (/) Clo's'd by a tow'ring cliff, whofe forehead

glows

With azure, purple, and ten thoufand dyes, From its refplendent fragments beaming round; Nor lefs irradiate colours from beneath On every fide an ample grot reflects, As down the perforated rock the fun Pours his meridian blaze ! rever'd abode Of Nyfa's nymphs, with every plant attir'd, That wears undying green, refrefh'd with rills From ever-living fountains, and enrich'd With all Pomona's bloom : unfading flowers Glow on the mead, and fpicy fhrubs perfume With unexhaufted fweets the cooling gale, Which breathes inceffant there ; while every bird Of tuneful note his gay or plaintive fong Blends with the warble of meandring ftreams, Which o'er their pebbled channels murm'ring The fruit^-invefled hills, that rife around. [lave The gentle Nereids to this calm recefs Phcenice bear ; nor Dapfilea bland, Nor good Eucarpe, fludious to obey Great Neptune's will, their hofpitable care Refufe ; nor long Lucina is invok'd. Soon as the wondrous infant fprung to day, Earth rock'd around ; with all their nodding

woods,

And ftreams reverting to their troubled fource, The mountain fhook, while Lybia's neighb'ring

god,

Myfterious Ammon, from his hollow cell With deep refounding accent thus to. heaven, To earth, and fea, the mighty birth p'roclaim'd : A new-born power behold ! whom fate hath The god's imperfecr. labour to complete [cail'd This wide creation. She in lonely lands Shall bid the tower-encircled city rife, I he barren fea fhall people, and the wilds Of dreary nature fhall with plenty clothe; She fhall enlighten man's unletter'd race, And with endearing intercourfe unite Remoteft nations, fcerch'd by fultry funs, Or freezing near the fnow-incrufted pole : Where'er the joyous vine difdains to grow", The fruitful olive, or the golden ear; Her hand divine, with interpofing aid To every climate fhall the gifts fupply' Of Ceres, Bacchus, and (^) the Athenian maid ; The graces, joys, emoluments of life From her exhaulUefs bounty all fhall flow.

The heavenly prophet ceas'd. Olympus heard. Straight from their ftar-befpangled thrones dei-

fcend

(</) Fruitfulneft. (e) Plenty.

(f ) This whole defer} ptien of the rod and g ret to is taken from Diod. StcuLs, lib. ,. pag. 2O2.

Q*) Mittfrvay the tutelary geddefsof the Athenians^ to iuhom Jbe gave the olive.

MISCELLANIES.

&n blooming Nyfa a ccleftial band

The ocean's lord to honour in his child;

When o'er his offspring fmi ling thus began

The trident-ruler : Commerce be -thy name :

To thee I give the empire of the main,

From where the morning breathes its eaftern gale,

To th' undifcover'd limits of the weft,

From chilling Boreas to extremeft fouth

Thy fire's oblequious billows (hall extend

Thy universal reign. Minerva next

With wifdom blels'd her, Mercury with art,

(i>) The Lemnian god with induflry, and laft

Majeftic JPhcebus, o'er the infant long

In contemplation paufmg, thus declar'd

From his enraptur'd lip his match'lefs boon :

Thee with divine invention 1 endow, That fecret wonder, goddefs, to difclofe, By which the wife, the virtuous, and the brave, The heaven-taught poet and exploring fage Shall pafs recorded to the verge of time.

Her years of childhood now werenumber'd o'er, When to her mother's natal foil repair'd The new divinity whofe parting ftep Her facred nurfes follow'd, ever now To her alone infeparably join'd ; Then firft deferting their Nyfeian fhore To fpread their hoarded bleffings round the world; Who with them bore the unexnaufted horn Of ever-fmiling plenty Thus adorn'd, Attended thus, great goddefs, thou began'ft Thy all enlivening progrefs o'er the globe, Then rude and joylefs, dellin'd to repair The various ills which earlieft ages ru'd From one, like thee, diftinguifh'd by the gifts Of heaven, Pandora, whofe pernicious hand From the dire vafe releas'd th' imprifon'd woes.

Thou gracious commerce, from his cheer lefs

caves

In horrid rocks and folitary woods, The helplefs wand'rer, man forlorn and wild Didft charm to fweet fociety ; didll caft The deep foundations, where the fuyire pride Of mightieft cities rofe, and o'er the main Before the wond'ring Nereids didft prefent The furge-dividing keel, and {lately maft, Whofe canvafs wings, diftending with the gale, The bold Phoenician through Alcides' llraits To northern Albion's tin-embowell'd fields, And oft beneath the fea-obfcuring brow Of cloud envclop'd TenerifF convey'd. Next in fagacious thought th' ethereal plains Thou trod'ft, exploring each propitious ftar The danger-braving mariner to guide ; Then all the latent and myfterious powers Of number didft unravel : lait to crown Thy bounties, goddefs, thy unrivall'd toils For man, ftill urging thy inventive mind^ Thou gav'ft him (?) letters ; there imparting all, Which lifts the ennobled fpirit near to heaven, Laws, learning, wifdom, nature's works reveal'd By godlike fages, all Minerva's arts, Apollo's mufic, and th' eternal voice

(b) Pultan, the tutelary deity ofLemnos. (/') Here the opinion of Sir ]f,iac Neivton is folloived t 1t>at Utters ivert.firft invtftted amonyft the trading par It

Of virtue founding from the hiftoric roll, The philbfophic page, and poet's fong.

Now folitude and filence from the ihorea Retreat on pathlefs mountains to refide, Barbarity is polifli'd, infant arts Bloom in the dcfert, and benignant peace With hofpitality begin to footh Unfocial rapine, and the thirft of blood ; As from his tumid urn when Nilus fpreads His genial tides abroad, the favour'd foil That joins' his fruitful border, tirft imbibes The kindly ftream : anon the bounteous god His waves extend.,, embracing Egypt round, Dwells on the teeming champain, and endows The fleeping grain with vigour to attire In one bright harveft all the Pharian plains: Thus, when Pygmalion from Phoenician Tyre Had baniih'd freedom, with difdainful flops Indignant commerce, turning from the walls Herfelf had rais r d, her welcome fway enlarg'd Among the nations, fpreading round the globe The fruits of all its climes ; (>t) Cecropian oil, The Thracian vintage, and Panchaian gums, Arabia's fpices, and the golden grain, Which old Ofiris to his Egypt gave, Aad Ceres to (/) Sicania. Thou didll raife Th' Ionian name, O commerce, thou the dome Of fumptuous Corinth, and the ample round Of Symcufe didft people. All the wealth Now thou affemblcft from Iberia's mines, And golden-channcll'd Tagus, all the fpoils From fair (m} Trinacria wafted, all the powers Of cortquer'd Afric's tributary realms To fix thy empire on the Lybian verge, Thy native tradl; the nymphs of Nyfa hail Thy glad return, and echoing joy rciounds O'er Triton's facred waters, but in vain : The irrevcrfible decrees of heaven To far more northern regions had ordain 'd Thy lading feat ; in vain th* imperial port Receives the gather'd riches of the world : In vdin whole climates bow beneath its rule ; Behold the toil of centuries to Rome Its glories yield, and mould'ring leaves no trace Of its deep-rooted greatnefs ; thou with tears From thy extinguifh'd Carthage didft retire, And thefe thy perifh*d honours long deplore. What though rich (n ) Gadcs, what though polifh'd

Rhodes,

With Alexandria, Egypt's fplendid mart, [towers, The learn'd (6) Maffylians, arid (p) Ligurian What though the potent Hanfcatic league, And Venice, miftrefs of the Grecian ifles, With all the uEgean floods, a while might footh The fad remembranct ; what though led through

climes And feas unknown, with thee th' adveht'rous fons

(^) Allenlin. Athens -was called Cicropia,fni* Cecrops, its firft king.

(/) Sicily.

(/) Another name of Sicily, ivbitb was frequently ravagedly the Carthaginians.

(n] C^iz.

(o) .Marfftflet) a Grecian colony, the moB civilisttd as well as the grcatejl trading city ofandent Gaul.

(/>) Gyua.

M m iij

THE WORKS OF CLOVER,

fs'd the ftormy cape, which braves The huge Atlantic ; what though Antwerp grew Beneath thy fmiles, and them propitious there Didft fhower thy blefilngs with unfparing hands: Still on thy grief-indented heart imprefs'd The great Amilcar's valour, Hill the deeds Of Afdrubal and Mago, ftill the lofs Of thy unequal, Annibal, remain'd : Till from the fandy mouths of echoing Rhine, And founding margin of the Scheldt and Maefe, With fudden roar the angry voice of war Alarm* d thy langour ; wonder turn'd thy eye. l,o ! in bright arm* a bold militia flood, Arrang'd for battle : from afar thou faw'ft The fnowy ridge of Appenine, the fields Of wild Calabria, and Pyrene's hills, The Guadiana, and the Duro's banks, And rapid Kbro gath'ring all their powers To crufh this daring populace. The pride Of fierceft kings with more enflam'd revenge Ne'er menac'd freedom; nor lince dauntlefs

Greece,

And Rome's fternoffspring none hath e'erfurpafs'd The bold (r) Batavian in his glorious toil For liberty, or death. At once the thought Of long-lamented Carthage flies thybreait, And ardent, goddefs, thou doll fpeed to fave The generous people. Not the vernal fhowers, Diftilling copious from the morning clouds, Defcend more kindly on the tender flower, New-born and opening on the lap of fpring, Than on this rifing {late thy cheering fmile, And animating prefence ; while on bpain, Prophetic thus, thy indignation broke ;

Infatiate race ! the fhame of polifh'd lands ! Difgrace of Europe ! for inhuman deeds And infolence renown'd ! what demon led Thee firil to plough the undifcover'd furge, \\ r hith lav'd an hidden world? whole malice

taught

Thee firft to taint with rapine, and with rage, With more than favage thirfl of blood the arts, liy me for gentleil intercourfe ordain'd, For mutual aids, and hofpitable ties From fhore to (bore ? Or, that pernicious hour, Was heaven difgufted with its wondrous works, That to thy fell exterminating hand Th' immenfe Peruvian empire it refign'd, And all, which lordly (j) Montezuma fway'd ? And com'fl thou, flrengthen'd with the fhming

ft ores

Of that gold teeming hemifphere, to wafte The fmiling fields of Europe, and extend Thy bloody (hackles o'er thefe happy feats Of liberty? Prefumptuous nation, learn, From this dire period ihall thy glories fade, Thy flaughter'd youth fhall fatten Belgium's fands And vi&ory againft her Albion's cliffs Shall fee the blood empurpl'd ocean dafh Thy weltering hofls, and (lain the chalky fhorc Ev'n thofe, whom now thy impious pride would bind

(?) The Portuguefe differed the Cape gf Gosd Hope in 1487.

(r) The Dutch. (.r) Mohtezitma, cmffror of Mexi

n fervile chains, hereafter fhall fupport [hand Thy veaken'd throne ; when heaven's afflidting Of all thy power defpoils thee, when alone Of all, which e'er hath lignaliz'd thy name, Thy infolence and cruelty remain.

Thus with her clouded vifage, wrapt in frowns, The goddefs thrcaten'd, and the daring train Of her untam'd militia, torn with wounds, Defpifing fortune, from repeated foils More iierce, and braving famine's keeneft rage, At length through deluges of blood fhe led To envied greatnefs; ev'n while clamorous Mars With loudeft clangor bade his trumpet ihake The Belgian champain, Ihe their ftandard rear'd On tributary Java, and the fhores Of huge Borneo ; thou, Sumatra, heard'ft Her naval thunder, Ceylon's trembling fbns Their fragrant Sores of cinnamon refign'd, And odour-breathing Temate and Tidore Their fpicy groves. And O whatever coaft The Belgians trace, where'er their power is fpreai To hoary Zembla, or to Indian funs, Still thither be extended thy renown, O William, pride of Orange, and ador'd Thy virtues, which difdaining life, or wealth, Or empire, whether in thy dawn of youth, Thy glorious noon of manhood, or the night, (0 The fatal night of death, no other care Befides the public own'd. And dear to fame Be thou harmonious Douza ; every mufe, Your laurel ftrow around this hero's urn, Whom fond Minerva grac'd with all her arts, Alike in letters and in arms to fhine, A dauntlefs warrior, and a learned bard. Him Spain's furrounding hoft for flaughter

mark'd,

With maflacre yet reeking from the ftreets Of blood-ftain'd Harlem : he on Leyden's tow'rs, With famine his companion, wan, fubdu'd In outward form, with patient virtue flood Superior to dei'pair ; the heavenly nine His fuffering foul with great examples cheer'd Of memorable bards, by Mars adorn'd With wreaths of fame ; (x) Oeagrus' tuneful fon, Who with melodious praile to nobleft deeds Charm' d the lolchian heroes, and himfelf Their danger Ihar'd ; (_y)Tyrtzeus, who reviv'd With animating verfe the Spartan hopes; Brave (z) JSfchylus and (a) Sophocles, around

(?) He -was ajfcfflnated at Del/. His dying words ivere. Lord have mercy upon this people.

See Grot, de Bell. Belg.

(z/) Janvs Douza, a famous poet, and the mojl learned man of his time. He commanded in Ley Jen ivben it ivttt fo objiinately befteged by the Spaniards in 1570.

See Meurfii Athen. Bat.

(x) Orpheus, one of the Argonauts, -who fet fail from lolcos, a toivn in fbeffalia.

(y) When the Spartans ivere greatly dijire/ed in the Mefftnian 7f<zr, they applied to the Athenians for et general^ ivhofent them the poet Yyrteus.

(z) JEfchylus, one of the mofl ancient tragic poets , who finalized bimfelf in the battles of Marathon and Salamis.

(a] Sophocles ctmmanded bit countrymen tie Atheni ans, infeiierol expeditions*

MISCELLANIES,

55*

Whfe facred brows the tragic ivy twin'd, Mix'd with the warrior's laurel ; all furpafs'd By Doaza's valour : and the generous toil, His and his country'3 labours foon receiv'd Their high reward, when favouring commerce

rai.i'd

Th' invincible Batavians, till, rever'd Among the mightieft on the brighteft roll Of fame they fhone,by fplendid wealth and power Grac'd and fupjorted ; thus. genial foil Diffufing vigour though the infant oak, Affords it flrength to flourifh, till at laft Its lofty head, in verdant honours clad, It rears amidft the proudeft of the grove.

Yet here th' eternal fates thy laft retreat Beny, a mightier nation they prepare For thy reception, furi'erera alike By th' unremitted infolence of power lipm reign to reign, nor lefsthan Belgium known For bold contention oft on crimfon fields, In free-tongu'd fenates oft with nervous laws '1 o r ircumfcribe, or conquering to dcpofe Their fcepter'd tyrants : Albion fea-embrac'd, The joy of freedom, dread of treacherous kings,

dcftin'd miftrefs of the fubjed: main, And arbitrefsof Europe, now demands Thy prefence, goddefs. It was now the time, Ere yet perfidious Cromwell dar'd profane The facred fenate, and with impious feet Tread on the powers of magiftrates and laws, "While every arm was chill'd with cold amaze, Nor one in all that dauntlefs train was found To pierce the ruffian's heart ; and now thy name Was heard in thunder through th' affrighted fhores Of pale Iberia, of fubmiffive Gaul, AndTagus, trembling to his utmofl f'ourcc. O ever faithful, vigilant, and brave, Thou bold aflertor of Britannia's fame, Unconquerable Blake : propitious heaven At this great era, and the fage decree Of Albion's fenate, perfecting at once, What by Qr) Eliza was fb well begun, So deeply founded, to this favour'd fhore The goddefs drew, where grateful me beftow'd Th' unbounded empire of her father's floods, And chofe thee, London, for her chief abode, Pleas'd with the filver Thames, its gentle ftrcam, And fmiling banks, its joy-diffufing hills, Which clad with fplendour, and with beauty

grac'd,

O'erlook his lucid bofom ; pleas'd with thee, Thou nurfe of arts, and thy induftrious race ; Pleas'd with their candid manners, with their free Sagacious converfe, to inquiry led, And zeal for knowledge ; hence the opening mind Refigns its errors, and unfeals the eye Of blind opinion ; merit hence is heard Amidft its blufties, dawning arts arife, The gloomy clouds, which ignorance or fear Spread o'er the paths of virtue are difpell'd, Servility retires, and every heart With public cares is warm'd ; thy merchants

hence.

The off of navigation.

(*) %J?**n Elizabeth teas tie frjl of vur princes who gave any (wjidcrabls encwragtmcnt totradt.

Illuflrious city, thou doft raife to fame ;

How many names of glory may 'ft thou trace

From earlieft annals down to (d} Barnard's times !

And, O ! if like that eloquence divine,

Which forth for commerce, for Britannia's rights,

And her infulted majefty he pour'd,

Thefe humble meafures flow'd, then too thy walls

Might undifgrac'd refound thy poet's name,

Who now all-fearful to thy praife attunes

His lyre, and pays his grateful fong to thee,

Thy votary, O commerce ! Gracious power,

Continue Hill to hear my vows, and blefs

My honourable induilry, which courts

No other i'mile but thine ; for thou alone

Can'ft wealth beftovv with independence crown'd ;

Nor yet exclude contemplative repofe,

But to my dwelling grant the folemn calm

Of learned leifure, never to reject

The vifitation of the tuneful maids,

Who feldom deign to leave their facred haunts,

And grace a mortal manfion ; thou divide

With them my labours ; pleafure I refign,

And, all devoted to my midnight lamp,

Ev'n now, when Albion o'er the foaming breafb

Of groaning Tethys fpreads its threat'ning fleets,

I grafp the founding fhell, prepar'd to fing

That hero's valour, who fhall beft confound

His injur'd country's foes ; ev'n now I feel

Celcftial fires defcending on my breaft,

Which prompt thy daring fuppliant to explore,

Why, though deriv'd trom Neptune, though

rever'd

Among the nations, by the gods endow'd, Thou never yet from eldeft times haft found One permanent abode ; why oft expell'd Thy favour'd feats, from clime to clime haft borne Thy wandering ftens; why London late hath feen (Thy lov'd, thy laft retreat), defponding care O'ercloud thy brow : O Men, while the mufe, Th' immortal progeny of Jove, unfolds The fatal caufe. What time in Nyfa's cave Th* ethereal train, in honour to thy lire, Shower'd on thy birth their blended gifts, the

power

Of war was abfent ; hence, unblefs'd by Mars, Thy fons relinquifh'd arms, on other arts Intent, and ftill to mercenary hands The fword intrufting, vainly deem'd, that wealth Could purchafc iafting fafety, and protect Unwarlike freedom ; hence the Alps in vain Were pafs'd, their long impenetrable fnows, And dreary torrents; fwoln with Roman dead, Aftonifh'd (?) Trebia overflow 'd its banks In vain, and deep-dy'd Trafimenus roll'd Its crimfon waters ; Cannae's fignal day The fame alone of great Amilcar's fon Enlarg'd, while ftili undifciplin'd, difmay'd, Her head commercial Cartilage bow'd at lafl To military Rome : th' unahcr'd will Of Heaven in every climate hath ordain'd, And every age, that empire fhall attend The fword, and fteel fhall ever conquer gold.

(</) Sir Join Barnard.

(e) Trebia, Troftmetius lacus, and Cann<s,fatxovffor He i/^ories gained ly Annlbal ovtr the Romans.

THE WORKS OF GLOVER.

Then from thy fufrerlngs learn ; th' aufpicious hour Now fmiles; our war) magiftrates have arm'd Our hands; thou, goddefs, animate our breafts To caft inglorious indolence afide, That once again, in bright battalions rang'd, Our thoufands and ten thoufands may be feen Their country's only rampart, and the dread. Of wild ambition. Mark the Swediih hind ; He, on his native foil fhould danger lowr, Soon from the entrails of the dufky mine Would rife to arms; and other fields and chiefs With Helfmgburg (/) and Steinboch foon would

fhare

The admiration of the northern world : Helvetia's hills behold, th' aerial feat Of lone-fupported liberty, who thence, Securely refling on her faithful ihield, The warrior's corfelet flaming on her breaft, Looks down with fcorn on fpacious realms, which

groan

In fervitude around her, and her fword With dauntlcfs (kill high brandifhing, defies The Auftrian eagle, and imperious Gaul : And O ! could thofe ill-fated fhades arife, Whofe valiant ranks along th' enfanguin'd duft Of (JT) Newbery lay crowded, they could tell, How their long-matchlefs cavalry, fo oft O'er hills of flain by ardent Rupert led, ,,, ;

Whofe dreaded ftandard vidhory had wav'd, Till then triumphant, therewith nobleft blood ^rom their gor d fquadrons dy'd the reflive fpear Of London's firm militia, and refign'd The well-difputed field ; then, goddefs, fay, Shall we be now more timid, when behold, The black'ning ftorm now gathers round our

heads,

And England's angry genius founds to arms ? Tor thee, remember, is the banner fpread ; The naval tower to vindicate thy rights Will fweep the curling foam: the thund'ring

bomb

Will roar, and flartle in the deepeft grots Old Nereus' daughters ; with combuflion flor'd, Tor thee our dire volcanos of the main, Impregnated with horror, foon will pour Their flaming ruin round each hoftile fleet : Thou then, great goddefs, fummon all thy powers, Arm all thy fons, thy vafials, every heart

(y) Heljingburg, a fmall toivn in Schonem, cele brated for tbeviclory tvhich Count Steinboch gained over the Danes, ivith an army for the mofl part compofed of Sivedift peafants, who had never feen an enemy before : it is remarkable, that the defeated troops lucre at com plete a bcdy of regular forces as any in all Europe,

(jr) "The London trained-band, and auxiliary regi- giments (of ivhcfe inexperience of danger, or any kind of fervice, beyond the eafy prafliie of their poflures in the Artillery-Ground^ bad till then too cheap an ejlimation), behaved themfilves to ivonder ; and 'were, in truth, the frefervation of that artny that day. for they flood as a lulivark and rampire to defend the rejl ; and ivhfn their wings of horfe were fcattered and difperfed, kept their ground fs Jl eadily, that though Prince Rupert himfelf led vp the choice horfe to charge them, and endured the jlorm fffmalljk't, he could make no imprejfwn on their (land of files ; L-nt ivasftrced t* ivkeel about. Clarend. book 7. page 347,

nflame : and you, ye fcar-difclaiminj; raci Ye mariners of Britain, chofen train 3f liberty and commerce, now no more Secrete your generous valour; hear the call Df injur'd Albion ; to her foes prefent Thofe daring bofoms, which alike difdain The death-difploding cannon, and the rage Of warring tempetts, mingling in their ftrife The feas and clouds : though long in iilence hufh'4 Hathflept the Britifti thunder; though the pride Of weak Iberia hath forgot the roar ; Soon lhall her ancient terrors be recail'd, When your victorious fhouts affright her fhores : None now ignobly will your warmth reflrain, Nor hazard more indignant valour's curfe, Their country's wrath, and time's eternal fcorn ; Then bid the furies of Bellona wake, And filver-mantled peace with welcome ftep* Anon fhall vifit your triumphant ifle. And that perpetual fafety may poffefs Our joyous fields, thou, genius, who prefid'ft O'er this illuftrious city, teach her fons To wield the noble inftruments of war ; And let the great example foon extend Through every province, till Britannia fees Her docile millions fill the martial plain : Then, whatfoe'er our terrors now fuggeft Of defolation, and th' invading fword ; Though with his malTy trident Neptune heav'i A new-born ifthmus from the Britifh deep, And to its parent continent rejoin'd Our chalky fhore ; though Mahomet could league His powerful crefcent with the hoftile Gaul, And that new Cyrus of the conquer'd eaft, Who now in trembling vaflalage unites The Ganges and Euphrates, could advance With his auxiliar hoft ; our warlike youth With (h] equal numbers, and with keener zeal For children, parents, friends, for England fir'd, Her fertile glebe, her wealthy towns, her laws, Her liberty, her honour, fhould fuflain the dreadful onfet, and refiftlefs break Th' iramenfe array ; thus ev'n the lightefl thought E'er to invade Britannia's calm repofe, Muft die the moment, that aufpicious Mars Her fons fhall blefs with difcipline and arms ; That exil'd race, in fuperftition nurs'd, The fervile pupils of tyrannic Rome, With diflant gaze defpairing, fhall behold The guarded fplendours of Britannia's crown; Still from their abdicated fway eftrang'd, With all th' attendance on defpotic thrones, Priefts, ignorance, and bonds ; with watchful ilep Gigantic terror, finding round our coaft, Shall fhake his Gorgon segis, and the hearts .Of proudeft kings appal ; to other fhores Our angry fleets, when infolence and wrongs To arms awaken our vindictive power" , Shall bear the hideous wafte of ruthlefs war ; But liberty, fecurity, and fame, Shall dwell for evr on our chofen plains.

{h} If the computation, -which allots near two mil* lions of fighting men to this kingdom may be relied on ; it is not eafy to conceive, hotv the united force of the it/hole world could ajfemble together, and fubftjl in an enemy's country greater numbers, than they would jind opfofeJ tt them here*

MISCELLANIES.

ADMIRAL HOSIER'S GHOST.

As near Porto-Bello lying

On the gently-fwelling flood, At midnight with ftreamers flying

Our triumphant navy rode ; There while Vernon fat all-glorious

From the Spaniards' late defeat : And his crews, with fhouts victorious,

Drank fucccfs to England's fleet :

On a fudden, fhrilly founding,

Hideous yells and fhrieks were heard; Then each heart with fear confounding,

A fad troop of ghofts appear'd, All in dreary hammocks fhrouded,

Which for winding-lheets they wore, And with looks by forrow clouded

Frowning on that hoftile fhore.

On them gleam'd the moon's wan luflre,

When the {hade of Hofier braTC His pale bands was feen to mufter,

Rifing from their wat'ry grave : O'er the glimmering wave he hy'd him,

Where the Bur ford rear'd her fail, With three thoufand ghofts befides him,

And in groans did Vernon hail.

Heed, O heed, our fatal ftory,

I am Hofier' s injur'd ghoft, You, who now have purchas'd glory

At this place where I was loft ; Though in Porto-Bello's ruin

You now triumph free from fears, "When you think on our undoing,

You will mix your joy with tears.

See thefe mournful fpectres fweeping

Ghaftly o'er this hated wave, Whofe wan cheeks are flain'd with weeping ;

Thefe were Englifh captains brave : Mark thofe numbers pale and horrid,

Thofe were once my failors bold, Lo, each hangs his drooping forehead,

While his difmal tale is told.

I, by twenty fail attended,

Did this Spanifh town affright ;

Nothing then its wealth defended But my orders net to fight ;

O ! that in this rolling ocean I had caft them with difdain,

And obey'd my heart's warm motion, To have quell'd the pride of Spain ;

For refiftance I could fear none,

But with twenty (hips had done What thou, brave and happy Vernon,

Haft achiev'd with fix alone. Then the Baftimentos never

Had our foul difhonour feen, Nor the fea the fad, receiver

Of this gallant train had been.

Thus, like thee, proud Spain difmaying,

And her galleons leading home, Though condemn'd for difobeying,

I had met a traitor's doom. To have fallen, my country crying

He has play'd an Englifh part, Had been better far than dying

Of a griev'd and broken heart.

Unrepining at thy glory,

Thy fuccefsful arms we hail ; But remember our fad ftory,

And let Hofier's wrongs prevail. Sent in this foul clime to languifh,

Think what thoufands fell in vain, Wafted with difeafe and anguifh,

Not in glorious battle {lain.

Hence with all my train attending

From their oozy tombs below, Through the hoary foam afcending,

Here I feed my conftant woe : Here the Baftimentos viewing,

We recal our fhameful doom, And our plaintive cries renewing,

Wander through the midnight gloom*

O'er thefe waves for ever mourning

Shall we roam depriv'd of reft, If to Britain's fhores returning

You neglect my juft requeft; After this proud foe fubduing,

When your patriot friends you fee, - Think on vengeance fpr my ruin,

And for England iham'd i sne.

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UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

Blacknore's Creation, Wilkie, Glover's Leonidas and minor poems