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\-ll^^T^'^^f . 
 
 WORKS, 
 
 IN 
 
 VERSE AND PROSE, 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 EGBERT TREAT PAIKE, JUN. ESQ. 
 
 WITH JYOTES. 
 
 TO WHICH ARE PREFIXED, 
 
 SKETCHES 
 
 OF HIS 
 LIFE, CHARACTER AND WRITINGS. 
 
 Diis sacer est vates, divumque sacerdosj 
 
 Spirat et occultum pectus at ora Jovem. 
 
 Milt: VI. Eleg: - ■* 
 
 BOSTON : 
 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. BELCHER. 
 1812. 
 
^^ 
 
 -9% 
 
 
 •ISTRICT OF MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT: 
 
 District Clerk's Office. 
 
 BE it remembered that on the 28th day of October, in the 
 thirty seventh year of tlie Independence of the United States of Amer- 
 ica, Joshua Belcher, of the said district, has deposited in this 
 office the title of a book, the light whereof he claims as proprietor, 
 in the words following to wit : 
 
 "The Works, in Verse and Prose, of the late Robert Treat 
 Paine, Jun. Esq_ with Notes. To which are prefixed. Sketches of 
 his Life, Character and Writings. 
 
 Diis sacer est votes, divicmque sacerdos, 
 
 Spirat et occultiim pectus et ora Jovem. 
 
 Milt : VI. Eleg :" 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, 
 entitled, " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
 the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors 
 of such copies, during the times therein mentioned ;" and also to an 
 act entitled, " An act supplementary to an act, entitled. An act for 
 the encouragement of leaning, by securing the copies of maps, charts 
 and books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the 
 times therein mentioned ; and extending the benefits thereof to the 
 arts of designing, engi-aving, and etciiing, historical and otlier prints.*' 
 
 -ixTTf T T » »T o oTi *^^7■ ^ Clcvk of the District 
 WILLIAM S. SHAW, I of Massachusetts. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is now somewhat more than eight months since proposals 
 were issued for this edition of Mr. Paine's works. This inter- 
 val, it is said, is unreasonably long ; and it is sometimes inti- 
 mated, in no very equivocal language, that the publication 
 has been delayed, till the author and his writings are no 
 longer of sufficient interest to retain their share of the gen- 
 eral curiosity. 
 
 For this delay, had it been needless, the publick might 
 certainly exact an apology. When however the causes, that 
 have retarded the press, are recounted, the period of publica- 
 tion will not appear to have been wantonly protracted. Of 
 these causes, too many and various to be distinctly enumer- 
 ated, the principal were, the disorder of Mr. Paine's manu- 
 scripts, and the difficulties attending the search for his printed 
 essays. The latter of these causes was of much more influ- 
 ence than the former. 
 
 The manuscripts required nothing but arrangement and 
 selection ; but the printed essays were often to be recovered 
 from journals, which, having been long since discontinued, 
 were not always remembered. Newspapers and Magazines 
 for a series of twenty years were to be consulted. From this 
 examination, though far from heedless or desultory, it is not 
 improbable that many pieces have escaped. 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 The volume contains nothing, that is not knovi^n to be Mr. 
 Paine's, by evidences stronger, if that vi^ere necessary, than even 
 the characteristic ks of his peculiar and unborrovired manner; 
 except only the verses of an accomplished lady, whom it is 
 easy to commend to her full deserts, without forcing her into 
 a thankless and unwarrantable comparison with that Lesbian 
 enchantress, whose lyre subdues the listener to a deaf and 
 dizzy delight, not unlike that, which she herself experienced 
 when gazing on her favouiite : 
 
 a-iv cf' a.Koa.1 Fai. 
 
 Beside these two, other causes of obstruction have not 
 failed to operate. Every one, who has undertaken to publish 
 an Author's remains, will acknov^ledge, that to such an under- 
 taking there are incident many obstacles, which, before he 
 ventured on the task, he could hardly have imagined possible ; 
 to such persons enough has been said ; and those, who do not 
 care to become editors, would feel little gratitude for a reca- 
 pitulation of the discouragements, under which this collection 
 has gradually grown and spread to its present size and form. 
 
 At length the work is abroad ; and it is not without anxiety, 
 that Mr. Paine's friends await the decision of the publick. 
 The author is, indeed, removed beyond the reach of censure ; 
 and the voice of praise, however chaste and sincere, if not lost 
 in the bustle of the world, will sigh only in a faint and barren 
 echo through the chambers of death. This volume, warmly 
 and cordially welcomed, will do much to soothe an afflicted 
 family. A proud neglect or a sullen rejection may embitter 
 the cup of sorrow with the tears of honest and indignant pride. 
 
 Although the work consists, for the most part, of occasional 
 performaiices, yet with local and temporary topicks Mr. Paine 
 has not unfrequently connected subjects of general and per- 
 manent interest. From his Prize Prologue, may be learnt 
 the progress of the scenick art ; and one can hardly open the 
 Ruling Passion without encountei'ing something, that may 
 enlarge his knowledge, or elevate his virtue, or ennoble his 
 patriotism. The Monody on Sir John Moore, though the fate 
 and character of that gallant officer might furnish materials 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 for a more elaborate panegyrick, is not destitute of moral instruc- 
 tion ; and many of his festal songs are of such an impress, as 
 to shew that Mr. Paine was not always content to filter off his 
 political opinions from the common sewers, but could, if he 
 thought himself bound to such exertion, ascend to the living- 
 springs of truth and right. 
 
 Although the Prize Prologue will at once shew itself to be 
 considerably improved, yet that poem, even as now printed, 
 did not satisfy him, and Mr. Paine was resolved on further 
 improvements. He had sketched with great boldness and 
 felicity, the characters of the principal writers for the English 
 stage. Of these characters, when to each he had assigned 
 his proper features, and imparted to all something of that 
 enthusiasm, which the mere thought of Shakespeare and his 
 successors was seen to kindle in his own bosom, he had deter- 
 mined to form a gallery of portraits. It is to be lamented, that 
 this determination was forgotten almost as soon as made. Some 
 additions are interwoven with the Invention of Letters ; and 
 similar emendations were projected for many of his other 
 poems. But his latter years were dark and cheerless ; and he 
 seems never to have summoned his powers to an attempt, 
 which he was not unwilling to contemplate, as feasible only to 
 a sound and active health. 
 
 These remarks are not designed to propitiate the stern or 
 interest the tender. Neither is it intended by what may follow, 
 to defy the austerity of criticism, or to interdict to any bosom 
 the indulgence of a generous sympathy. 
 
 The book, such as it is, is now open on its merits to discus- 
 sion ; and, while it is not ambitious of a place in the reviews, 
 it does not shrink from a strict and impartial scrutiny. Like 
 other posthumous works, it will undoubtedly betray many 
 venial, and a few almost inexpiable faults. It will also present 
 no scanty measure of beauties, some of the softest grace, and 
 others of the brightest bloom. The same page that is here 
 tarnished with blemishes, which the slightest attention may 
 seeni sufficient to have prevented, may there sparkle with 
 decorations, such as the happiest fancy in its most propitious 
 moments can hardly hope to surpass. 
 ,2 
 
vni PREFACE. 
 
 The notes, promised in the proposals, it was originally in^ 
 tended to throw into the margin ; but this intention being 
 resigned, the Editor's labours will be found at the end of the 
 volume. From assigning, as at first proposed, so much of the 
 whole commentary to each production, as its worth, whether 
 admitted or assumed, might have claimed, the Editor soon 
 found it necessary to desist. Had he continued the notes, as 
 begun, his pages might have out-numbered the author's. 
 Many pieces are, accordingly, dispatched in a single sentence ; 
 and some are silently dismissed, not because they do not some- 
 times require, and might not always admit explanation, but 
 lest productions of higher dignity or deeper interest, might be 
 defrauded of their proportion of the commentary. 
 
 Meagre as the notes are, they would have been still more 
 meagre, had not a liberal and elegant friendship suggested 
 many grounds of comparison and sources of illustration. Thus 
 assisted, however, and enabled, beside his own slender stock 
 of learning, to command the resources of a rich and vigorous 
 mind, the Editor does not presume to think, that his labours 
 will afford any light to the only persons, who will pi'obably 
 ever inspect the commentary, to the lovers of sound literature 
 and the patrons of genuine criticism. 
 
 Lest he should be accused of permitting errors, which he 
 had no means of excluding, to obtrude themselves; or applaud- 
 ed for accuracy and excellence, from which, as he contributed 
 nothing to their production, he is not entitled to any poi'tion of 
 praise, it becomes the Editor to declare, that he holds himself 
 responsible for the text only, and the notes subjoined to the text. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SKETCHES of the Life, Character and Writings of the 
 
 late Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq. - - page 13 
 
 Monody- on the Death of Robert Treat Paine, Jun. Esq. 88 
 
 Columbia's Bard, - ^ 89 
 
 Tributary Lines, on the Death of Robert Treat Paine 
 Jun, Esq. -.,-.----90 
 
 THE WORKS OF 
 
 ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Preface, ---------s 
 
 Theme, " An undevout astronomer is mad," - - 7 
 
 Theme, Sacred to the memory of Bowdoin, - - 15 
 
 Theme, "Know then thyself; presume not God to scan," 20 
 
 Theme, "Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto," 26 
 
 Theme, " Humanum est errare," (part of,) - - - 31 
 Sensibility, lines on, - - - - - --35 
 
 Pastoral, — Damon and Corydon, - - - - - 4 1 
 
 Forensick Disputation, lines in conclusion of, - - 46 
 
 The Refinement of Manners, an Exhibition Poem, - 47 
 
 Valedictory Poem, on leaving College, - - - 60 
 
 The Nature and Progress of Liberty, A. B. Poem, - 70 
 
 Pastoral,— Morning, Noou and Evening, - - - 77 
 
'^ CONTfeNTS. 
 
 Reflections on a lonely Hill, which commanded the pros- 
 pect of a Burying ground, - - - - - 82 
 Lines to Miss ****, _-_«_, 83 
 
 Fragment, 84 
 
 Lines, supposed to belong to the Invention of Letters, 86 
 
 Eclogue, first of Virgil's, translated, - - - 87 
 
 Ode, tenth of second Book of Horace, translated, - - 92 
 
 Ode, fifth of first Book of Horace, translated, - - 93 
 
 Stanzas, on receiving a Frown from Cynthia, - - 94 
 
 Ode, ninth of third Book of Horace, translated, - 96 
 
 Nymph, the laurelled, addressed to Philenia, - - 98 
 
 Ode to Compassion, - - - - - - loi 
 
 Golden Age, translated from Ovid's Metamorphoses, 102 
 Lines to Harriot, on a bunch of Roses presented to the 
 
 Author, 104 
 
 Verses to a young Lady, - - - - - 105 
 
 Ode, of Sappho's, translated, ----- 108 
 
 Ode to Winter, - - 109 
 
 Song, the Lass of Eden Grove, - - - - - 1 1 1 
 
 PART II. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Edwin and Emma, - - - _ - . 115 
 
 Monody, to the Memory of William H. Brown, - - 11 8 
 
 Self Complacency, - - - - - - 12 1 
 
 Stanzas, addressed to Thomas Brattle, Esq. - - 124 
 
 Stanzas, addressed to Miss B. - - - - 125 
 
 Stanzas to Clora, - - - - - - -126 
 
 Sonnet to Eiiza, 128 
 
 Sonnet to Belinda, ----_._ jijid, 
 
 Menander to Philenia, - - - - - - 129 
 
 Philenia to Menander, - 132 
 
 Menander to Philenia, - - - - - . 134 
 
 Sonnet to Philenia,^ -136 
 
 Country Girl to Menander, I37 
 
 Stanzas to the Country Girl, - - - . - 138 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 Country Girl to Menander, 139 
 
 Sonnet to the Country Girl, - - - - - 140 
 
 Sonnet to Anna Louisa, - - - - - - 141 
 
 Stanzas to Anna, ------- ibid. 
 
 Stanzas to Truth, 142 
 
 Stanzas to Truth - - - -- - -143 
 
 Stanzas on a Bamboo Fan, 146 
 
 Prize Prologue, at the opening of the Boston Theatre, 151 
 The Invention of Letters, A. M. Poem, - - - 163 
 The Ruling Passion, O. B. K. Poem, - - - 177 
 
 Notes to Ruling Passion, - - - - - - 192 
 
 Dedicatory Address, at the re-opening of the Boston 
 
 Theatre, 199 
 
 Address, delivered by Master^khn I^ Payne, as Yoving 
 
 Norval, . W .^^.Hym-t^ . . 206 
 Epilogue to the Soldier's Daughter, - - - 209 
 Valedictory Address, spoken by Miss Fox, at her benefit, 2 1 2 
 Epilogue to the Clergyman's Daughter, - - - 214 
 Epilogue to the Poor Lodger, - - _ - 222 
 Monody on the Death of Lieut. Gen. Sir John Moore, 229 
 Notes to Monody, - 237 
 
 PART III. 
 
 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Rise Columbia, 243 
 
 Adams and Liberty, ------- 245 
 
 " Bleak lowered the morn ; the howling snow-drift blew," 248 
 
 To Arms, Columbia, 250 
 
 Rule New-England, - - - - - - - 252 
 
 The Street was a Ruin, ------ 254 / 
 
 Spirit of the Vital Flame, - - - - - - 256 
 
 " When first the Mitre's wrath to shun," - - 258 
 
 The Yeomen of Hampshire, - - - - - 261 
 
 " Sweet Minstrel, who to mortal ears," - - - 263 
 
 *' Sainted Shades ! who dared to brave," - - - 265 
 
 The Green Mountain Fai-mer, - - - - 267 
 
 V 
 
 jSkxk.Sr 
 
xtl CONTENTS. 
 
 " Shall man, stern man, 'gainst Heaven's behest," - 270 
 
 " Wide o'er the wilderness of waves," - - . 272 
 
 " Hail ! Hail, ye patriot spirits," - - _ _ 274 
 
 " Let patriot pride our patriot triumph wake," - 277 
 
 " On the tent-plains of Shinah, Truth's mystical clime," 280 
 
 " Blest be the sacred fire," 283 
 
 " The Steeds of Apollo, in coursing the day," - - 286 
 
 Spain, Commerce, and Freedom, _ _ - - 288 
 
 Elegiac Sonnet, to the Memory of M. M. Hays, Esq. 292 
 
 Address, for the Carriers of the Boston Gazette, - 293 
 
 Lines to Miss F. 296 
 
 Reply to the above, ------ idicL, 
 
 PARTLY. 
 
 PROSE WRITINGS. 
 
 Oration, befoi-e the Young Men of Boston, - - - 301 
 
 Eulogy on the Life of General George Washington, 329 
 
 Comnnunication on the Boston Female Asylum, - - 345 
 
 Critique on the Drama of " Adrian and Orilla," - 353 
 Critique on the Comedy of " Rule a Wife and have a 
 
 Wife," 357 
 
 Critique on the Play of « Henry IV." - - - 366 
 Critique on the Tragedy of " Venice Preserved," - 370 
 Critique on the Tragedy of " Othello," - - 377, 384 
 Critique on the Drama of " Pizarro," - - 390, 392 
 Critique on Mr. Bernard's performance, and on the Tra- 
 gedy of " George Barnwell," - - - - 395 
 Critique on the Comedy of " John Bull," - - - 400 
 Brief Sketch of Spain, ------ 409 
 
 Notes to the College Exercises, - * - - - 425 
 Notes to the Miscellaneous Poems, - - - 445 
 
 h 
 
 fe' 
 
SKETCHES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE, CHARACTER AND WRITINGS 
 
 OF THE LATE 
 
 ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 
 
 BY CHARLES PRENTISS. 
 
 " Nothing' extenuate, nor set down auglit in malice.** 
 
BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 It is not the design of the writer of this memoir, 
 nor the wish of the publisher of this volume^ to 
 present an ample biography of the late ROBERT 
 TREAT PAINE, Jun. Esq. or an elaborate dis- 
 ciission on the merits of his poetic effusions. This 
 sketch will therefore embrace merely a short ac- 
 count of his life and writings, together with a brief 
 critical notice of his principal poetic productions. 
 In Europe, scarcely a year has of late elapsed, 
 which had not been pregnant with rhyming vol- 
 umes, born only to see the light and die ; many of 
 them swelled with unimportant biographical infor- 
 mation, or a prodigality of critical disquisition. 
 The labors of the poet, of his biographer and critic, 
 are soon forgotten : hence, however barren the 
 first, or partial or inadequate the latter, the public 
 sustain little injury from such evanescent perform- 
 ances. With Mr. Paine and the offspring of his 
 muse, it is far otherwise. Although some of his 
 writings are hut the moderate efforts of boyhood, 
 or the subsequent effects of casual and careless 
 exertion ; many of tliem are the legitimate and in- 
 
%\1 BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 disputable lieirs of immortality. Were it probable 
 that this volume would find readers onlj in this 
 vicinity, where Mr. Paine's manners, habits, and 
 whole tenor of life are known, a biographical sketch 
 would be a superfluous task : but, confident as we 
 are, that at least, his more labored and polished 
 productions will be long and generally read ; it is 
 a duty to gratify that curiosity, that anxiety, which 
 is ever felt by the reader of taste, to know some- 
 thing more of an author, than the place of his na- 
 tivity, or the date of his mortal exit. 
 
 The dearest relatives of an author being yet alive, 
 and his friends charitably anxious for the mainte- 
 nance of his moral as well as poetical reputation, 
 to paint the poet as he was is at once a very deli- 
 cate, difficult, and disagreeable task. Yet, what- 
 ever may be due to the feelings of consanguinity 
 or the tenderness of friendship, the commands of 
 justice are paramount. 
 
 Should the glowing and exact pencil of Stuart 
 be employed in pourtraying the features of an un- 
 celebrated maiden, over w hose head more than 
 forty annual suns may have rolled, at her instiga- 
 tion, and to gratify her vanity, omit many a wrin- 
 kle or supply many a deficient rose, few would 
 feel disposed to censure the painter. But, were 
 he employed to give a portrait of a poet, patriot, 
 or hero, whose reputation was familia,r, but whose 
 visage was unknown, except to a few, flattery would 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Xvii 
 
 be falsehood and omission crime. When a faith- 
 ful likeness is expected by the public, the pencil 
 and the pen owe obedience only to truth. 
 
 Thomas Paine, whose name was aftenvards, 
 by an act of the legislature in 1801, changed to 
 Robert Treat Paine, was born at Taunton, in 
 the county of Bristol, December 9th, 1773. He 
 was the second son of the Hon. Robert Treat 
 Paine, an eminent lawyer, well known as one of 
 the patriots of the American revolution ; one of the 
 Delegates in Congress from Massachusetts, his 
 native state, who signed the Declaration of Inde-^ 
 pendence ; for many years the Attorney General, 
 and afterwards one of the Judges of the Supreme 
 Judicial Court for this Comnioiiwealth. His moth- 
 er's maiflen name was Cobb, a sister of the soldier 
 and patriot. General Cobb. Eight adult children 
 were the fruit of this union ; four sons and four 
 daughters. The three eldest sons, Robert Treat, 
 Thomas, and Charles, were educated for the bar. 
 Henry was educated in a eomptiug room. Robert, 
 in 1798, unmarried, fell a victim to the yellow fever, 
 after which Thomas assumed his christian name. 
 The younger brothers were both married, and 
 Charles died of a consumption early in 1810. The 
 parents are now living. 
 
 Our poet was about seven years of age wlien his 
 father removed his familv to Boston. 
 
XVlll BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 I have neither time nor opportunity to enquire, 
 whether in his infantile or more juvenile years, he 
 exhibited any of those traits of genius or eccen- 
 tricity, which the world is generally so desirous 
 of finding, or at least of believing must have char- 
 acterized infancy, because displayed in riper years. 
 He once informed the writer that he was uncon- 
 scious of the possession of more than ordinary tal- 
 ents, till some of his classmates flattered him with 
 a belief of their existence, by praising some of his 
 earliest poetical efforts. If a statesman, hero or 
 poet, mathematician, painter or musician, acquires 
 celebrity, the public are delighted with anecdotes 
 of precocious traits of sentiment or action, indica- 
 tive of future excellence ; of which no notice was 
 taken at the time ; or which had never been con- 
 sidered uncommon, without a connexion with sub- 
 sequent eminence. 
 
 He was placed under the care of master Carter, 
 who for many years kept one of the public schools, 
 for instruction in reading, writing, arithmetic, &c. 
 Here he made so little proficiency that he was re- 
 luctantly received at the Latin school, long kept 
 by master Hunt ; he however soon acquired the 
 first standing in his class, which he maintained 
 until he was offered for the Freshman class at 
 Cambridge ; and in July, I788, he was examined 
 as such, at that university, and matriculated. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XIX 
 
 It is remarkable tliat the last mentioned gentle- 
 man^, who prepared him for college, is not possessed 
 of a single anecdote which would distinguish him 
 from ^^the million." But of his moral qualities, 
 during this period, his school mates bear honorable 
 testimony. When he had accomplished his ov> n 
 task, which he always did with great facility, he 
 was ever ready to lend his aid to those who studied 
 more tardily, or who had consumed their time in 
 play. This benefaction was, in some degree, his 
 pastime : as he never engaged in the gymnastic 
 sports of the school. His temper was placid and 
 his disposition gay, and apparently feeling no supe- 
 riority, he was infected with no other ambition, 
 than that of acquitting himself to the satisfaction 
 of his instructor. 
 
 During the first two years of his collegiate life, 
 he was generally attentive to the studies assigned, 
 excelling particularly in the Latin and Greek lan- 
 guages, in Faiglish grammar and rhetoric : but to 
 stated recitations he was not unfrequeiitly inatten- 
 tive ; devoting his time, not to idleness nor dis- 
 sipation, but to natural philosophy and elegant 
 literature. To the Greek language he was very 
 attentive, insomuch that the government of college 
 assigned to him a Greek oration at one of the exhi- 
 bitions of his class. This performance is gener- 
 ally nothing more than a recitation from some of 
 the orations of Demosthenes or Isocrates, or a speech 
 
XX BIOGUAPHY. 
 
 from Plutarcli or Xenoplioii ; but Paine chose to 
 write liis own in Greek^ witlioiit first preparing in 
 English ; which he did mucli to the satisfaction of 
 Doctor Willard, at that time President, who was 
 considered a very accural c Grreek scholar. The 
 manuscript is now in existence. 
 
 One of his classmates, J.Allen, whether from mere 
 wantonness, or to gratify some particular resent- 
 ment, we know not, wrote several satirical verses, 
 abusive of Paine, inscribed on the college wall. 
 Discovered by Paine, he was resolved on replica- 
 tion ; but, having never written a line of poetry, 
 lie was for some time undetermined on the mode. 
 Some of his class instigated him to attempt a poet- 
 ical retort, by depreciating his talents, and doubt- 
 ing his ability to produce a rhyming reply. Allen 
 was a young man of a most vigorous mind, and had 
 long, and not unsuccessfully, paid his respects to 
 the muses. He at that time reigned laureat of the 
 class. Paine, however, fearlessly attacketl him in 
 return. 
 
 This anecdote the writer had from Mr. Paine 
 the last summer, on asking him the occasion of his 
 first attempt to rhyme. He could not recollect the 
 verses, but believed there was little wit on either 
 side, though he was not then dissatisfied with his 
 first metrical effort. " Were it not for this circum- 
 stance,'^ said he, ^' probably, I should never have 
 undertaken a couplet,'' How trivial an incident 
 
BiOGilAPHY. XXI 
 
 may so affect the lielnij as to give a new direction 
 to the whole voyage of life. The falling of a pin 
 may decide the fate of an empire. 
 
 Gratified in his first excursion on Parnassian, 
 heights, he persevered in his intimacy with the 
 nine, till friendship became love ; and he found it 
 ever after impracticable to divorce his affections* 
 Thus seduced, he became ambitious of showing 
 the world how much he was their favorite. He 
 saw his own rhymes in print, and his blessed ruin 
 was inevitable. Scarcely less pleasure has a young 
 author, at the sight of his first printed couplets, 
 than a young lover at the moment of contract for 
 the approaching hymeneal knot. 
 
 It is the practice at Cambridge for the professor 
 of Rhetoric and the English language, commencing 
 in the first or second quarter of the student's soph- 
 omore year, to give the class a text; generally 
 some brief moral quotation from some of the an- 
 cient or modern poets, from which the students 
 write a short essay, usually denominated a theme^ 
 These are examined and corrected by the Profes- 
 sor, and a straight line is drawn by him on the 
 back of the theme, under the name of the writer. 
 Under the names of those, whose themes are of 
 more than ordinary correctness or elegance, the 
 Professor draws two lines. This distinction, thoygh 
 it occasions jealousies and complaints of partiality 
 among the students, greatly excites their ambition, 
 4 
 
XXll BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Many, if not the greater part of Paine's themeSj, 
 were written in verse ; and his vanity was gratified, 
 and his emulation roused by the honor of constant 
 double marks. 
 
 Few, if any of these exercises, however, did 
 Paine think proper to publish. And there are 
 some, which it is presumed he never would have 
 published, or certainly not without further correc- 
 tion. Though they give evidence, and contain 
 examples of high poetic powers, there are many 
 feeble lines, which he would have omitted, or 
 amended ; and many inaccuracies, which he would 
 have subsequently rectified. 
 
 Can there exist a son, from Adam sprung, 
 
 J-Ioii} abject c'e?- from native dignity, Sec. — page 11. 
 
 And solemn silence bids the mind revere. — p. 15. 
 
 He [nature^ blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand. 
 And, unsujipressedf returned the sigh. — p. 20. 
 
 Page SI. Amours is accented on the first syllable. 
 The whole poem, however, on the text, 
 
 " Know then thyself ; presmne not God to scan ; 
 The proper study of mankind is man ;" 
 
 exemplifies the author's creative powers. 
 
 Where crags xaz-nace — p. 32. 
 
 Till then thy name shall pervagrate the earth,— p. 'iS. 
 
 Page 45, as in many other places, the transi- 
 tion is immediate from the familiar to the grave 
 style : 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XXIU 
 
 When with your lyre you swell melodious songs, 
 E'en Orpheus owns to thee the wreath belongs. 
 
 Shall court thy smile, and in your praise combine. — p. 46. 
 
 Created life wasybrmifc'/— p. 49. 
 
 Splendid greens, — p. GO. 
 
 Sweet are the hours of life's expandmg years^ — p. 62. 
 
 Swoi-ds turned the scale, and nods edict ed law; — p. 72, 
 
 JPervagrate and edicted, with several otlier 
 words, were coined in Mr. Paine's own mint. 
 Whether the republic of letters will recognize the 
 validity of these acts of jJoetic suvereigntijy time 
 must determine. 
 
 Here museful thought and contemfilation dwell, — p. 82. 
 
 Such tautology is, however, very rare with Mr. 
 Paine. Yet this is not more censurable than Pope's 
 '^'pensive contemplation," which perhaps Paine 
 had in view. 
 
 No more, amid the sylvan dance. 
 
 Smiles round the soul-subduing glmice ! — p. 110. 
 
 We have here noticed a few inaccuracies. The 
 list might be greatly augmented ; and still it is 
 wonderful there are so few. In the exactness of 
 his rhymes, he was not then, very scrupulous. Warm 
 and horn are grating to the ear : but the eye rather 
 than the ear is displeased with lorn and daicn. 
 
 There is no uncommon merit in his translations. 
 We are surprised that he should have attempted 
 Sapho's ci>AINETAI MOI 'KHNOS, after Phillips. 
 
XXIV BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 It is not designed to notice the many beauties 
 and evidences of ripening excellence, which are 
 scattered over his college exercises : we must, 
 however, select and refer to a few examples. 
 
 No sooner morn had cheered the skies with light, 
 
 And modest fields blushed from the embrace of nighty — p. 42. 
 
 The first fourteen lines of the Valedictory (p. 60. ) 
 are exquisitely beautiful. 
 
 How comprehensive the second line of his 
 
 Address to Freedom : 
 
 Heaven-born goddess, hail ! 
 
 Friend of the pen^ the sickle.^ and the sail .' — p. 70, 
 
 His imitations were not very frequent. The 
 following line. 
 
 No fear of death their dauntless so«ls deplore ; — p. 52. 
 
 is but a slight variation from one in Young's Para- 
 phrase of Job, describing the war-horse : 
 
 No sense of fear his dauntless soul allays. 
 
 On the whole, although his earlier academic 
 productions would not have ensured immortality, 
 they contain some sublimity and much vigor and 
 beauty, as well as a maturity and copiousness of 
 style, uncommon with juvenility^ They are far 
 from being models of perfection ; but, to quote 
 from his Refinement of Manners, 
 
 Vain is the hope, in life's first dawn, to find 
 
 Those nerves of thought, that grace the ripened mind. 
 
 At the usual quarterly exhibition, in the autumn 
 
 of 1791, the government of college assigned to 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XXV 
 
 Paine an Englisli poem. There is an unaccount- 
 able indolence, or love of delay with respect to 
 original composition^ common to many, if not to 
 most of those, who are capable of the finest execu- 
 tion. He neglected his task day after day, till the 
 morning of the exhibition, on which, he wrote and 
 committed to memory about a third part of the 
 whole. 
 
 Although there was much merit in this poem, 
 he did not, by it, acquire much reputation ; merely 
 on account of the plaintive monotony of his languid 
 delivery : so disposed is a vast majority, even of 
 an academic audience, to put their trust in the into- 
 nations of emphasis and the gracefulness of gesture. 
 Mr. Paine, however, afterwards improved in public 
 speaking ; and his elocution became almost perfect. 
 
 The delivery of a poem at an exhibition, in the 
 senior year, generally ensures a similar appoint- 
 ment at the ensuing commencement. Feeling se- 
 cure in this respect, Paine became negligent with 
 regard to attendance on public prayers and stated 
 recitations ; not wasting his time, but applying 
 to such studies and authors as were more con- 
 genial to his taste, than some to whicli it was his 
 duty, as a student, to have attended. During the 
 ensuing quarter, some disturbance having taken 
 place between the students of the senior class and 
 one or more of the tutors, Paine used some severe 
 and abusive language, respecting certain arrange- 
 
SX\1 BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 ments for the evening commons ; and was sum- 
 moned to appear before the government of the uni- 
 versity. He defended himself before them with 
 so much wit and impudence;, that his offence was 
 rather increased than mitigated. He was accord- 
 ingly sentenced to a suspension* of four months, 
 for neglect of his studies during that quarter ; and 
 for insulting the authority of college ; aggravated, 
 as his sentence runs, by his indecent and impudent 
 attempts, when before the government, to justify 
 his misbehavior. 
 
 The then President of the college. Dr. Willard, 
 was well known to be a strenuous supporter of 
 authority, and rigidly attached to the maintenance 
 of his own dignity ; "and opposed'' (as Mr. Paine 
 used to say) " to the least perpetration of wit in his 
 presence." The slightest disrespect to his office 
 was considered as a crime : hence, with all his 
 learning and virtues, he was ill calculated to 
 restrain by persuasion, or to gain the respect and 
 affection of the students, by a deportment, at once 
 dignified without haughtiness, and conciliating 
 without familiarity. Had he possessed the bland 
 
 * By some strange transposition of terms, that is called" 
 suspension, which is merely a rustication, a dismissal to the 
 country for some months, when the student is restored to his 
 class : and that is called rustication, which suspends him a 
 year, allowing him to go where he pleases, and degi'adcs him 
 to the class below that in which he had stood. We wish to 
 sec the expulsion of this solecism from our university. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XXvii 
 
 manners and persuasive autliority of the scholar 
 and gentleman, who now presides with such dig- 
 nity and usefulness over that seminary, it is possi- 
 ble Paine had not been suspended. ^ 
 
 Perhaps, however, his suspension was of no real 
 disadvantage. He was placed under the care of 
 the Rev. Mr. Sanger, of Bridgewater, where he 
 pursued his studies with assiduity, and was after- 
 wards regularly reinstated in his class. 
 
 The 21st of every June, till of late years, has 
 been the day, on which the members of the senior 
 class closed their collegiate studies, and retii-ed, 
 to make preparations for the ensuing commence- 
 ment. On this day it was usual for one member 
 to deliver an oration, and another a poem : such 
 members being appointed by their classmates. The 
 Yaledictory Poem of Mr. Paine, a tender, correct 
 and beautiful effusion of feeling and taste, was re- 
 ceived by the audience with applause and tears. 
 The latter part of it, especially, was heard with 
 silent sorrow and admiration. 
 
 " The fatal sheers the slender thread divide, 
 And sculptured virns the mouldering relicks hide ; 
 Far deeper wounds our bleeding breasts display, 
 And Fate's most deadly weapon is — to-day. 
 To-day we part ; ye throbs of anguish, rise, 
 Flow, all ye tears, and heave, ye rending sighs ! 
 Come lend to Friendship's stifled voice relief. 
 And melt the lonely hermitage of grief. 
 Sighs, though in vain, may tell the world we feel, 
 And tears may soothe the wound, they cannot heal. 
 
XXVlll UIOGRAPHY. 
 
 To-day we launch from this delightful shore, 
 
 And Mirth shall cheer, and Friendship charm no more; 
 
 We spread the sail o'er life's tumultuous tide ; 
 
 Ambition's helm, let prudent Reason guide ; 
 
 Let grey Experience, with her useful chart, 
 
 t)irect tlie wishes of the youthful heart. 
 
 Where'er kind heaven shall bend our wide career, 
 
 Still let us fan the flame, we've kindled here ; 
 
 Still let our bosoms burn with equal zeal, 
 
 And teach old age the warmth of youth to feel. 
 
 But ere the faithful moment bids us part. 
 
 Rends every nerve, and racks the throbbing heart. 
 
 Let us, while here our fondest prayer ascends, 
 
 Swear on this altar, ' that we will be friends 1' 
 
 But, ah ! behold the fatal moments fly ; 
 
 Time cuts the knot, he never could untie. 
 
 Adieu ! ye scenes, where noblest pleasures dwell ! 
 
 Ye happy seats, ye sacred walls, farewell ! 
 
 Adieu ! ye guides, and thou enlightened sire ; 
 
 A long farewell resounds our plaintive lyre ; 
 
 Adieu ! ye youths, that press our tardy heel ; 
 
 Long may it be, ere you such griefs shall feel I 
 
 Wild horrors swim around my startling view ; 
 
 Fate prompts my tongue, and, oh ! my friends, adieu." 
 
 On the 15th of July, 1792, the day on which he 
 received his degree of Bachelor of Arts, he deliv- 
 ered, according to the assignment of the govern- 
 ment, an English poem. This was at a time when 
 all eyes were directed to France, and almost every 
 American was ardent in his wishes for the success 
 of the French revolution. He chose for his theme 
 "The Nature and Progress of Liberty :" a subject 
 than which, no one could have been more popular 
 and judicious. The general delusion of the time. 
 
BIOGRAPHY, XXIX 
 
 when the infidel, Paine, was considered the great 
 apostle of liberty, and Edmund Burke, the cham- 
 pion of despotism, must excuse certain sentiments, 
 which no one would sooner condemn at this time, 
 than the author, if alive. 
 
 Long may the laurel to the ermine yield, 
 The stately palace to the fertile field ; 
 The fame of Burke, in dark oblivion rust. 
 His pen a meteor — and his page the dust. 
 
 It is not surprising that a young man, like Paine, 
 should have partaken of the general madness of 
 the day, which, with very few exceptions, then 
 swayed the feelings of age, of wisdom, and of 
 experience. Mr. Paine, some years after, spoke 
 with regret of his " stripling attempt to smite the 
 pyramidical fame of Burke." 
 
 He was graduated with the esteem of the govern- 
 ment and the^ regard of his cotemporaries. He 
 was as much distinguished for the opening virtues? 
 of his heart ; as for the vivacity of his wit ; the 
 vigor of his imagination ; and the variety of his 
 knowledge. A liberality of sentiment and a con- 
 tempt of selfishness are usual concomitants ; and 
 in him, were striking characteristics. Urbanity 
 of manners and a delicacy of feeling imparted a 
 charm to his benignant temper and social dispo- 
 sition. 
 
 Mr. Paine, soon after leaving college^ determined 
 on the pursuit of the mercantile profession : and 
 
XXX BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 became a clerk to Mr. James Tisdale, a merchant 
 in this town of very extensive business. To a man 
 of our poet^s genius and disposition^ we should sup- 
 pose it impossible that this should not have been 
 irksome. He had enjoyed the friendship of the 
 Pierian sisters, till the connexion became indis- 
 soluble ; ^' and could not leave them, nor return 
 from following after them." Hence, he not only 
 continued an occasional correspondent of the Mas- 
 sachusetts Magazine, in which he had written 
 many fine pieces, under the signatures of iEgon 
 and Celadon, and in which he now assumed the 
 signature of Menander j but even made entries in, 
 iiis day book in poetry 5 and once, made out a 
 charter-party in the same style. 
 
 Nor was he at all times attentive to the desk 
 and the counter. Having been one day sent to 
 the bank, with a check for five hundred dollars, 
 returning to the store, he was met by several liter- 
 ary acquaintances, he jumped into a hackney coach 
 with them, went to Cambridge, and spent a week, 
 in the enjoyment of ^^ the feast of reason and the 
 flow of soul." He, however, did not embezzle the 
 money ; but, on his return, carried it untouched to 
 the store. 
 
 In the correspondence, about this time, between 
 Philenia and our poet, there are certainly some of 
 the finest strains of the lyre, and some of the most 
 delicate touches of compliment. On each side there 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Xxxi 
 
 is some proximity to adulation. Pliilenia liad^ 
 
 however^ the most exalted opinion of Paine's poetic 
 
 p^Dwers : and Paine thought he could not say too 
 
 much of a lady, who was so highly celebrated for 
 
 her manners, beauty, colloquial talents, and literary 
 
 attainments ; and who had ascended to such an 
 
 altitude on Parnassus, as to leave all American 
 
 female competitors at a humble distance. 
 
 During the winter of 1792-3, Paine frequently 
 
 visited the theatre, and acquired a predilection 
 
 for theatric amusements, which closely adhered to 
 
 him through life. The law of tliis state against 
 
 theatrical exhibitions, had never been repealed ; 
 
 but a small company of actors had contrived to evade 
 
 it : a temporary theatre was erected in Board Alley, 
 
 " And plays their heathen names forsook. 
 And those of ' Moral Lectures' took." 
 
 The law was abrogated ; and in the summer 
 and autumn of 1793, a large and elegant brick the- 
 atre was erected in Federal Street. 
 
 Previously to the opening of the theatre, the pro- 
 prietors offered the reward of a gold medal for the 
 best prologue, that should be presented ; appoint- 
 ing ;several literary gentlemen ti, examine such as 
 should be offered, and to make the adjudication. 
 
 Antecedently to the day assigned for the critical 
 scrutiny, not less thaii twenty were presented. 
 They were perused by the censors ; but no disa- 
 greement of sentiment arose on the question, to 
 
XXXU BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 whom tlie medal should be awarded. Among the 
 competitors, not only those who fancied themselves 
 poets, and were inhabitants of this state, but several 
 poetical adventurers from other states, contested 
 the prize. 
 
 The following vote passed on the subject. 
 
 ^^ At a meeting of the Proprietors of the Boston 
 Theatre^ December 2d. 1793. 
 
 " Votedy That the Trustees be a committee, in 
 behalf of the Proprietors, to thank Mr. Thomas 
 Paine for his appropriate and excellent Prologue, 
 written for the opening of the theatre, and to present 
 him with the Prize Medal adjudged for the same. 
 ^^ In behalf of the Trustees, 
 
 "PEREZ MORTON, Chairman.'' 
 
 The medal was prepared and presented the ensu- 
 ing spring, accompanied with the following letter. 
 
 " Boston, March 2^th, 1794. 
 i( SiR^ — ^In the name of the Trustees and Propri- 
 etors of the Boston Theatre, I have the pleasure 
 to present to you the medal, adjudged to your Pro- 
 logue, at the opening of the theatre, as the reward 
 of merit and genius. 
 
 " I am. Sir, your most obedient 
 '•^ humble servant, 
 
 "PEREZ MORTON.'- 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XXXIU 
 
 The medal is a circle of about two inclies diam- 
 eter, widely and neatly embroidered around the 
 periphery, simply containing on one side the words, 
 
 For 
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 at opening of 
 the Boston 
 
 THEATRE 
 
 this 
 
 and on the other ; 
 
 PRIZE 
 
 is adjudged 
 
 to 
 
 Thomas Paine, 
 
 by the 
 
 CENSORS. 
 
 This Prologue, as first printed, contained some 
 bombast, and several inaccuracies ; yet a greater 
 volume of poetic mind has seldom, if ever, been 
 embodied in the same compass. In conceiving 
 greatly, Mr. Paine sometimes conceived extrava- 
 gantly, or obscurely. For instance, as the Pro- 
 logue originally stood : 
 
 t ... ... 
 
 But, lo ! where, nsmg m majestick flight, 
 
 The Roman eagle sails the expanse of light ! 
 
 His wings, like Heaven's vast canopy, unfurled. 
 
 Spread their broad plumage o'er the subject world. 
 
 Behold ! he soars, where golden Phoebus rolls, 
 
 And, perching on his car, o'erlooks the poles 1 
 
 Far, as revolves the chariot's radiant way, 
 
 He wafts his empire on the tide of day ; 
 
 From where, if rolls on xjon bright sea of suns s 
 
 To where in Light's remotest ebby it runs. 
 
XXXiv BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 The writer had occasion to analyze this passage, 
 in a familiar manner, in his presence. He agreed 
 that it was indefensible, and has since amended 
 it ; but it is still extravagant, although supported 
 by the authority of an Augnstan poet. 
 
 Extravagant and obscure is he also in the "In- 
 vention of Letters." 
 
 Could Faustus live, by gloomy Grave resigned ; 
 With povper extensive, as sublime his mind. 
 Thy glorious life a volume should compose, 
 As Alps immortal, spotless as its snows. 
 
 Had he here closed, all would have been well : 
 but to make the volume complete, 
 
 The stars should be its types — its press the age ; 
 The earth its binding — and the sky its page. 
 
 The writer asked how he w ould paint Faustus 
 picking up the stars for ty]}es, time his press, the 
 sky his paper, and afterwards, this volume of the 
 s% bound with the em^^A. — *^'^Poh,'^ said he, '^•yoii 
 know obscurity is part of the sublime : it went 
 down well ; it took — marvellously." 
 
 A more perfect or sublime allegory is not recol- 
 lected, than the following, in the "'Prize Prologue," 
 portraying the ages of darkness, which succeeded 
 the Roman empire : 
 
 Thus set the sun of intellectual light, 
 And wrapped in clouds, lowered on the Gothick night. 
 Dark gloomed tlie storm— the rushing torrent poured, 
 And wide the deep Cimmerian deluge roared; 
 
BIOGRAPHY. XXXV 
 
 E'en Learning's loftiest hills were covered a'er, 
 And seas of dulness rolled, without a shore. 
 Yet, ere the surge Parnassus' top o'erflowed, 
 The banished Muses fled their blest abode. 
 Frail was their ark, the heaven-topped seas to brave, 
 The wind their compass, and their helm the wave ; 
 No port to cheer them, and no star to guide. 
 From clime to clime they roved the billowy tide ; 
 At length, by storms and tempests wafted o'er, 
 They found an Ararat on Albion's shore. 
 
 He ones said that lie had wriiteii several addi- 
 tional lines^ making Apollo swear by Shakespeare^ 
 as the rainbow, that there should be no second 
 deluge of dramatic dulness : but, fearing he should, 
 like Dr. Young, run down the allegory, he forbore 
 their retention. 
 
 This Prologue, since its first publication, has 
 been much amended, and has received copious ad- 
 ditions ; and it was designed to have inserted a 
 sketch of the most eminent dramatists. 
 
 A considerable company of Comedians arrived 
 from England, and the theatre was opened with 
 very flattering success. 
 
 Among the trans-Atlantic performers, were Mr. 
 Baker and wife, and an only daughter. Miss Eliza 
 Baker, then aged about sixteen; young, hand- 
 some, amiable, and intelligent : she was not 
 viewed with indifference by Mr. Paine ; and the 
 stage had now for him more than the usual attrac- 
 tions. His views were, however, governed by 
 affection, delicacy, and honour. No man can read 
 
XXXVl EIOGRAPHV. 
 
 the following nervous lines in his ^^ Ruling Pas- 
 sion," written about this time, and suppose they 
 could have been otherwise : 
 
 Poor is the trophy of seductive Art, 
 
 Which, but to triumph, subjugates the heart; 
 
 Or, Tarquin-like, with more licentious flame, 
 
 Stains manly truth to plunder female fame. 
 
 Life's deepest penance never can atone, 
 
 For Hope deluded, or for Virtue flown. 
 
 Yet such there are, whose smooth, perfidious smile 
 
 Might cheat the tempting crocodile in guile. 
 
 Thorns be their pillow ; agony their sleep ; 
 
 Nor e'en the mercy given, to " wake and weep !" 
 
 May screaming night-fiends, hot in recreant gore, 
 
 Riv^ their stramed fibres to their heart's rank core. 
 
 Till startled conscience heap, in wild dismay, 
 
 Convulsive curses on the source of day ! 
 
 During the theatrical season of 1793-4;, the 
 Drama was the principal subject of Paine's amuse- 
 ment and attention, and he spent much time in 
 writing theatrical criticisms. His mercantile busi- 
 ness became irksome, and his mercantile ambition 
 was gone. Hence, in the ensuing summer, he parted 
 from Mr. Tisdale, by whom he had ever been 
 treated with kindness, and of whom he ever spake 
 with respect and commendation. 
 
 The qualities, which had secured him esteem, at 
 the university, were daily expanding, and his rep- 
 utation was daily increasing. His society was 
 eagerly sought in the most polished and refined 
 circles ; he administered compliments with great 
 address ; and no beau was ever a greater favorite 
 
BIOGRAPHYi XXXVli 
 
 in the heaii monde ! His apparel was now iu tlie 
 extreme of fashion ^ altLougli at some subsequent 
 periods,, when his fortunes were less propitious^ 
 he indulged in a truly poetical negligence of attire* 
 
 Shortly after his separation from the counting; 
 house, he issued proposals for publishing a semi- 
 Weekly newspaper, in the town of Boston, His 
 literary reputation was h^gh, and it was expected 
 that his publication, while it should adhere to the 
 gospel politics of federalism, would teem with the 
 effusions of fancy and of taste* The subscription 
 for this paper was liberal ; and it commenced on 
 the 20th of October, 1794<, under the title of ^^ The 
 Federal Orrery;" with the motto, from Virgil, 
 i^ Solemque suum, sua sidera, norunt." 
 
 Public expectation was, however, not a little 
 disappointed. Love, the theatre, natural indolence, 
 and constant temptations to pleasure and amuse- 
 ment, stole away his hours ; and even the little 
 attention he paid to his paper, seemed a drudgery. 
 
 There are, however, some circumstances con- 
 nected with the publication of this Journal, which 
 deserve notice. In the fore part of the year 179^^ 
 he inserted, in numbers, in the Orrery, "The Jac- 
 obiniad," a political poem. This poem is model- 
 led upon " The HoUiad," if not copied from it. 
 Mr. Paine new-pointed and neW' -edged much of 
 the satire ; and the leaders of the jacobin faction, 
 were sorely galled by this battery of ridicule. This 
 6 
 
XXXVlll BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 drew upon him tlie summary vengeance of a mob, 
 who attacked the house of Major Wallach, with 
 whom he lodged, who gallantly defended his castle 
 against the fury of the unprincipled banditti, and 
 compelled them to retire. But another circum- 
 stance, attached to this publication, had a more 
 important bearing upon our author. The son of a 
 gentleman, at whom the shafts of wit had been 
 aimed, called upon the editor for personal satisfac- 
 tion, which was denied. Mr, Paine apprehended 
 an assault, and prepared himself, with an unloaded 
 pistol, which he vainly imagined would appal his 
 adversary. The parties accidentally met. Upon 
 the approach of his assailant, whose overpowering 
 force Mr. Paine could not resist, he presented his 
 pistol ; but the gentleman fearlessly rushed for- 
 ward and violently assaulted him. Mr. Paine, 
 who had little muscular power, and whose nerves 
 had never been previously tested, considered this 
 disasterous interview as the most fatal incident of 
 his life. So capricious is popular opinion, when 
 uncankered by party, that it denounces, for not 
 doing, what it would condemn, if done. So en- 
 venomed is party, that it applauds in one, what it 
 reprobates in another. So distorted are its decis- 
 ions, that it perpetually illustrates the absurdity 
 of the justice and farmer, as exemplified in tlie 
 fable. A few months never eiFected a greater 
 change in the acquaintance and friends : in the 
 
BIOGRAPHY, XXXIX 
 
 lia|)its and prospects of au individual, who had 
 transgressed no law, human or divine. It was his 
 misfortune, that in this exigence, he had neither 
 stubbornness of pride to resist the blow ; nor elas- 
 ticity of character to recover from the shock. 
 
 In February, 1795, he was married to Miss 
 Baker. Whether any or what objections were 
 made to this match by his relations, other than his 
 father, we have not learned. His father, under- 
 standing what were his intentions, threatened to 
 renounce him, should he marry the lady. The 
 father's threat had no effect on the son : at least, 
 however unwilling he might be to offend a parent, 
 his honor, his affection, and independence of mind, 
 forbade compliance with the authority of what he 
 considered mere parental pride. 
 
 The nuptial hour was the signal of expulsion 
 from his father's house ; but the hospitality of 
 Major Wallach, sheltered him and Mrs. Paine 
 from paternal persecution. Fifteen months they 
 remained inmates in this gentleman's family ; and 
 although Mr. Paine tendered a liberal remunera- 
 tion, Major Wallach never would receive but one 
 hundred dollars ! Whenever he recurred to this 
 beneficent act, the tear of gratitude could not be 
 suppressed. Mr. Paine once said, ^^ When I lost 
 a father, I gained a wife and found a friend." 
 
 This alienation continued until the decease of 
 the eldest bvother, in 179a. This distressing oe< 
 
Xl BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 curreiice produced a reconciliation^ wMeli^ proba- 
 bly from too little confidence on one hand, and an 
 insufficient degree of respect on the other; was of 
 no cordial duration. Whether the austerity of the 
 father occasioned the incorrigible obliquities of the 
 son ; or whether the anomalies of the son provoked 
 the untempered severity of the father ; or whether 
 they alternately operated upon each other as cause 
 and effect, the writer cannot ascertain ; nor is it 
 his duty to decide. The registry of events is the 
 only duty of the biographer. 
 
 In July, 1795; Mr. Paine took his second degree, 
 at Cambridge. The government assigned to him 
 the delivery of an English poem. To the writer 
 of this imperfect sketch of his life, then about to 
 take his first degree, had also been assigned an 
 English poem. A little after sunrise, on the morn- 
 ing of Commencement, we went into the meeting- 
 house and rehearsed our poems to the empty pews, 
 President Willard had struck out ten lines of 
 Paine's poem : beginning, 
 
 Envy, that fiend, who haunts the great and good. 
 Not Cato shunned, nor Hercules subdued. 
 On Fame's wide field, where'er a covert lies. 
 The rustling serpent to the thicket flies ; 
 The foe of Glory, Merit is her prey ; 
 The dunce she leaves, to plod his drowsy way, 
 Of birth amphibious, and of Protean skill, 
 This green-eyed monster changes shape at will ; 
 Like snakes of smaller breed, she sheds her skin j 
 Strips off the ser/zf«if, and turns; — ■JAC0BT^^ 
 
BIOGRAPHY, Xli 
 
 In the writer's poem, lie had also erased a pas- 
 sage of the same political import. Notwithstand- 
 ing the erasure, we agreed to pronounce what we 
 had written ; an impudeat and unjustifiable deter- 
 mination. The writer's poem belonged to the 
 forenoon, Mr. Paine's to the afternoon exercises. 
 
 The annual collegiate dinner being finished in 
 the hall, after the morning exercises, the writer 
 was ordered, by the President, to appear in the 
 Philosophy chamber, to answer for his disobedi- 
 ence. After a short lecture, not unaccompanied 
 with threats of being denied a degree, he was sent 
 to find Paine ; the object being, strictly to for- 
 bid his delivery of the lines erased. The writer 
 did not take much trouble to find him, and returned 
 without success. The Librarian was then dis- 
 patched on the same errand, who went down to 
 the hall of commons, where he knew Paine was not; 
 and after staying a few minutes, returned also, 
 unsuccessfuly. Another messenger was despatched, 
 who found Paine in the meeting-house, seatetl by 
 the stage, and ready to perform : the house being 
 crouded, and the time having arrived for the after- 
 noon exercises. He was told to appear before the 
 corporation of the college. " Grive my compliments 
 to them," said Paine, " and tell them I will not 
 come." -It was not known whether this answer 
 was reported — probably not ; as the procession 
 was formed, and ready to move. 
 
xlii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Mr. Paine's poem was received with very great 
 applause. Wiien the erased lines were spoken^, a 
 little hissing was lieard^ which was soon drowned 
 by repeated, loud rounds of approbation. 
 
 We were both doubtful whether our degrees 
 would be conferred. Not being under the imme- 
 diate government of the college, Paine, as a citi- 
 zen, conceived he had a right to utter the lines 5 
 and was quite indifferent whether a degree was 
 conferred or not. The degrees, however, were 
 conferred. The President had no objection to the 
 verses, other than what arose from an unwilling- 
 ness to have Grovernor Adams, who was present, 
 and perhaps a few others, believe he had sanc- 
 tioned them. 
 
 ^'^ The Invention of Letters" was immediately 
 printed, and passed through two large editions, in 
 a very short time. It was inscribed to General 
 Washington ; to whom a copy was transmitted by 
 the author, who received a highly complementary 
 letter from that great man, which, from some casr 
 ualty, cannot at pi'esent be found. 
 
 It has been observed, that to his newspaper he 
 paid little attention. During the autumn of 1795, 
 and the Avinter of 1796, he was so much devoted 
 to the theatre ; to company, (especially literary,) 
 and to the general amusements of the town, that 
 no one would have suspected his being the editor 
 of the Orrery, but from seeing his name, as such^ 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Xliii 
 
 «,t the head of the first page. In April, 1796, he 
 sold the establishment, after having lost and been 
 defrauded of several thousand dollars, by entrust- 
 ing its concerns to others. Previous to his disposing 
 of his paper, he received the appointment of ^^ Mas- 
 ter of Ceremonies'' in the theatre, vi^ith a salary 
 sufficient for a comfortable support. The greater 
 part of his time, however, being at his own dispo- 
 sal, though his inquisitive and excursive mind was 
 ever on the aleri, and he was constantly adding to 
 his stock of knowledge : not moving in those higher 
 circles, which ought to have rejoiced in the honour 
 and pleasure of his company ; but who fastidiously 
 considered as a degradation, his marriage with au 
 actress, (though, subsequently, Mrs. Paine never 
 appeared on the boards;) he sometimes associated 
 with those, whose fellowship neither strengthened 
 his virtues, increased his happiness, or enhanced 
 his credit. He resorted much to the house of hi^ 
 father-in-law, who, at that time, kept a hotels 
 where, frequently yielding to improper hours and 
 indulgences, he began to confirm injurious habits. 
 His offences against temperance, though seldom 
 excessive, from repetition, acquired strength, and 
 became the necessary order of the day. 
 
 Oenius knows its own worth and feels its own 
 
 dignitjr. Titled folly and wealth}^ impotence^ 
 
 measure men, not by their minds, but by their 
 
 height ; not by their merit, but by their altitude in 
 
 7 
 
Xliv BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 society. Paiue felt the neglect of liis inferiors^ 
 who moved in a higher orbit. A soul like his, is 
 ever active in literary commerce ; ever ready to 
 communicate and receive ; and, by constant barter 
 and exchange of intellectual stores, ever anxious 
 to add to the capital stock. A supercilious pride 
 had, at least, partially excluded him from higher 
 society, and compelled bim to intercourses, not 
 always the most reputable or useful. 
 
 Mr. Paine was appointed, by the " Phi Beta 
 Kappa Society^' of Harvard University, to deliver 
 a poem on their anniversary, July 20th, 1797. 
 This is the longest and most perfect of all his 
 poetical productions. We know of no satire, of 
 Horace or Juvenal, Boileau or Pope, that surpasses 
 it. It was his intention to make some alterations 
 and additions to this poem ; but he was prevented, 
 by his constitutional aptitude to delay till to-mor^ 
 row, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. 
 
 He considered the " Ruling Passion'' as a 
 gallery of portraits, which he intended, at a future 
 time, to improve and amplify. The comparison 
 of different characters with different brutes, is the 
 most perfect and condensed. The description of 
 the fop, the pedant, the frail beauty, the old maid, 
 and the miser, have, perhaps, never been equalled. 
 The apostrophe to poetry is written in the sublimest 
 strain of poetry and pathos. Fearing it might be 
 his own 
 
BiOGKAPHY. xIy 
 
 .«' Horrid Fate ! the living Muse to see, 
 
 Bound to the mouldering corpse of Penury;" 
 
 about two years after writing this poem, lie bade 
 farewell to the muses ; and for eighteen or twenty 
 months, entirely neglected his first love. Aflec- 
 tion and association, however, returned, the Indian 
 way was forsaken for the Appian ; and, during 
 most of his life, from his poetical Pisgah, he with 
 sorrow perceived, that 
 
 " The Canaan, he must ne'er possess, was gold." 
 
 When it is considered, for how small sums many 
 of the finest minor poems have been originally 
 sold to British booksellers, the reader will be sur- 
 prised to learn how liberally the effusions of Mr. 
 Paine have been patronised in this country. For 
 his ^^ Invention of Letters,^' he received fifteen 
 hundred dollars, exclusive of expense ; and twelve 
 hundred dollars profit, by the sale of his ^^ Ruling 
 Passion.^' 
 
 In June, 1798, at the request of the ^^Massachu- 
 setts Charitable Fire Society,'' Mr. Paine wrote 
 his celebrated political song of ^"^ Adams and Lib- 
 erty." It may appear singular, that politics should 
 have any connexion with an institution of benevo- 
 lence : but the great object of the anniversary being 
 to obtain charitable donations, the more various 
 and splendid were the attractions, the more crowded 
 the attendance ; and of course, the more ample the 
 accumulation for cjiarity. 
 
Xlvi BIOGRAPHY, 
 
 There was, probably, never a political song morc^ 
 sung in America, than this ; and one of more poet- 
 ical merit was, perhaps, never written : an anec- 
 dote deserves notice, respecting one of the best 
 stanzas in it. Mr. Paine had Avritten all he intended ; 
 and being in the house of Major Russell, the editor 
 of the Centinel, showed him the verses. It was 
 highly approved, but pronounced imperfect ; as 
 Washington was omitted. The sideboard was 
 replenished, and Paine was about to help himself ; 
 when Major Russell familiarly interfered, and 
 insisted, in his humourous manner, that he should 
 not slake his thirst, till he had written an additional 
 stanza, in which Washington should be introduced. 
 Paine marched back and forth a few minutes, and 
 suddenly starting, called for a pen. He immedi- 
 ately wrote the following sublime stanza, afterwards 
 making one or two trivial verbal amendments : 
 
 Should the Tempest of War overshadow our land, 
 
 Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder ; 
 For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand ; 
 And repulse, with his breast, the assaults of the thunder ! 
 His sword, from the sleep 
 Of its scabbard would leap, 
 And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep [ 
 For ne'er shall the sons, Sec. 
 
 The sale of this song yielded him a profit of 
 about seven hundred and fifty dollars. It was 
 read by all ; and there was scarcely, in New Eng- 
 land, a singer, that could not sing this song. Nor 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Xlvii 
 
 was its circulation confined to ISTew England : it 
 was sung at theatres, and on public and private 
 occasions, throughout the United States ; and re- 
 published and applauded in Great Britain. 
 
 The theatre having been destroyed by fire, in 
 February, 1708 ; in the autumn of this year, it was 
 rebuilt and enlarged. Paine engaged to write a 
 Dedicatory Address, to be spoken by Mr. Hodg- 
 kinson, then manager, when the theatre should be 
 again opened ; of which, due notice was given in 
 the pubhc papers. The theatre was to be opened 
 on Monday, October 29th. Multa agendo nihil 
 agens was certainly his business during theatrical 
 vacations, and he neglected his Prologue till 
 Sunday, the day before its intended delivery : on 
 which day, between two and three o'clock, some 
 literary acquaintance having dined, and being tlien 
 present vi^ith him, Mr. Hodgkinson entered in a 
 rage, and immediately began to upbraid him for 
 his negligence. The public had been informed 
 that a Prologue was to be spoken by the manager, 
 not a word of which was yet written : he begged 
 Paine to write something, however short or indif- 
 ferent, that the theatrical campaign might not com- 
 mence with a broken promise. " Pray do not be 
 angry, Hodgkinson," said Paine ; ^^ sit down, and 
 take a glass of wine.'' ^^No sir," said Hodgkin- 
 son, ^^ when you begin to write, I will begin to 
 drink." — He immediately took his pen, at a side 
 
Xlviii BIOGRAPHir. 
 
 table, and began to write. At half past eight, he 
 completed the whole of it, as it now stands, ex- 
 cepting the last sixteen lines, relative to Adams, 
 which were added the next day, as a compliment 
 to President Adams : it having been repeated on 
 Tuesday evening, an extra play night, commemo- 
 rating his birth day, at wiiich he was present. This 
 Address contains many fine lines, and the political 
 satire is of the highest stamp. The treatment of 
 the American ministers, by Talleyrand and his 
 agents ; the assumption of a threatening aspect ; 
 and afterwards, menaces having failed, his concil- 
 iatory deportment, are most severely satirized. 
 
 As some old Bawd, who all her life hath been 
 A fungus, sprouting from the filth of sin ; 
 Whose dry trunk seasons in the frost of Vice ; 
 Xiike radish, saved from rotting by the ice ; 
 When threatening bailiffs first her conscience awe, 
 Not with the fear of shame, but fear of law. 
 Sets out at sixty, in contrition's search, 
 ' Rubs garlick on her eyes, and goes to church I 
 Thus Europe's courtezan, well versed in wiles, 
 Whose kisses poison, while the harlot smiles, 
 With pious sorrow hears our cannon roar, 
 And swears devoutly, that she'll sin no more ! 
 
 Mr. Paine continued in his theatrical office, 
 during this season. In February, 1799, he had, 
 as he had been accustomed to have several seasons 
 before, a very profitable benefit. 
 
 The treaty between this country and France, 
 made in 1778, was abrogated by Congress, July 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Xlix 
 
 ^th, 1798 ; a year after which, the young men of 
 Boston determined to celebrate the anniversary. 
 It was not^ however, resolved, till after the 7th of 
 July; and Wednesday, the 17th, was fixed for the 
 day. Application was made to Mr. Paine, to de- 
 liver an Oration on the occasion, the Saturday 
 evening preceding the 17th. 
 
 Short as was the time for preparation, the glow 
 of feeling, the swell of language, and the brilliancy 
 of sentiments, suitable to an address of such a 
 nature, have very seldom been surpassed. It was 
 delivered at seven o'clock, on the morning previous 
 to Commencement at Cambridge, to an audience, 
 crowded to almost the utmost pressure of possi- 
 bility ; and was received with rapturous and en- 
 thusiastic applause. » 
 
 A copy of this Address was forwarded to Gren- 
 eral Washington, and another to Mr. Adams, then 
 President of the United States ; accompanied with 
 a letter to each, copies of which were not retained. 
 
 From General Washington, he received the fol- 
 lowing answer. 
 
 " Moiiwt Vernon, September Isf, 1799. 
 
 '^^ Sir, — I have duly received your letter, of the 
 12th of August, together with the Oration delivered 
 by you, in Boston, on the 17th of July. . 
 
 ^"^ I thank you for the very flattering sentiments 
 which you have expressed in your letter, respect- 
 
1 BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 ing myself, and I consider your sending me youf 
 Oration, as a mark of polite attention, which de- 
 mands my best acknowledgements ; and I pray 
 you will be assured, that I am never more gratified J 
 
 than when I see the effusions of genius from some 
 of the rising generation, which promises to secure 
 our national rank in the literary world ; as I trust 
 their firm, manly, and patriotic conduct will ever 
 maintain it, with dignity, in the political. 
 " I am, Sir, very respectfully, 
 
 ^^ Your most obedient servant, 
 
 " GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 " Mr. Thomas Paine.'' 
 
 From Mr. Adams, the following was received- 
 ^^ Quincy, August Mh, 1799- 
 
 ''' Sir, — I have received, with great pleasure, 
 your very handsome letter of the S7th of July, 
 enclosed with a copy of your Oration, delivered at 
 Boston, on the 17th of last month. This Oration 
 is another effort of a pregnant and prolific genius, 
 which had before exhibited many elegant, learned, 
 and masterly productions, to the delight of our 
 Americans, and the applause of all men of taste 
 and sentiment, in other countries. 
 
 " The young men of Boston do honour to their 
 education, their parents, and their country ; and, | 
 
 in the celebration of that day, were excited by the 
 purest motives, and governed by the best principles. 
 
BIOGRAPHiT. ii 
 
 " I thank you, Sir, for your civilities to me upon 
 tliis, and many former occasions ; and should be 
 happy to have a more particular acquaintance with 
 you. Quiney is a short, pleasant, and salubrious 
 excursion from Boston; and here I should be much 
 obliged with a visit from Mr. Paine, to spend 
 some time with us. 
 
 '^ I am. Sir, with high esteem for 
 
 your talents and character, your most 
 obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 "JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 " M.R. Thomas Paine.'' 
 
 The friends of Mr. Paine, he having improved 
 in his habits, were very numerous. Many respect- 
 able gentlemen, who admired his talents, were 
 solicitous that they should be employed, more for 
 his own emolument, his reputation, and the repu- 
 tation of the country, than for several years they 
 had been, on account of his attachment to the the- 
 atre ; and urged him to the pursuit of a regular 
 profession ; and offered' him pecuniary assistance, 
 on condition of his entering upon the study of the 
 law. 
 
 To these proposals he listened ; dissolved his 
 connexion with the theatre ; and moving his fam- 
 ily to Newburyport, entered his name as student 
 at law, in the office of Theophilus Parsons, Esq. 
 at present Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of 
 8 
 
lii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 this state ; who cheerfully received him as such, 
 refusing to accept the customary fee for tuition. 
 
 Mr. Paine always alleged, notwithstanding the 
 friendly assurances of pecuniary assistance, which 
 had been promised, that he never received any 
 such aid as was expected. But since his decease 
 we have been informed, upon enquiry, that Mr. 
 Abraham Touro endorsed some small notes at the 
 bank, which were paid by him, without recurrence 
 to the drawer. Probably Mr. Paine considered 
 this as a debt i, although we have no doubt that 
 Mr. Touro intended it as a gratuity. 
 
 Mr. Paine was now happily fixed in the office 
 of the first law character in the country ; of a gen- 
 tleman, not less distinguished by his literary attain- 
 ments, and giant intellect, than by his benevolence, 
 urbanity, and all the virtues that distinguish the 
 great and good ; and he applied his mind, with 
 intlefatigable assiduity, to his legal studies. 
 
 The sale of his Oration, and the profits of his 
 benefit at the theatre, had enabled him to discharge 
 all his little debts, leaving a surplus for his mainte- 
 nance for some months. When this was expended, 
 by loans, and by literary assistance to the New- 
 buryport booksellers, he was enabled to support 
 himself, at least comfortably, while he remained 
 in that town, which was about a year. 
 
 General Washington died on the 14th of Decem- 
 ber, 1799. On the 2d of January, 1800, at the 
 
BIOGRAPHY. liii 
 
 request of the town of Newburyport, Mr. Paine 
 delivered a Eulogy on his life. It was a splendid 
 and powerful exhibition of oratory ; it was received 
 with the highest approbation ; published and re- 
 published in the English language ; and, it is said, 
 was translated as widely as the name of Washing- 
 ton was known. 
 
 In August, 1800, Mr. Parsons having removed 
 to Boston, Mr. Paine and his family returned. 
 
 He continued industriously attentive to his 
 studies and regular in his habits. He had for more 
 than a year bade adieu to poetry : but in Decem- 
 ber, he was persuaded to write an Ode for tlie 
 ^^ Festival of the Sons of the Pilgrims," the anni- 
 versary, celebrating the landing of the forefathers 
 of New England, at Plymouth. He did not, how- 
 ever, abandon himself to poetry ; but wrote merely 
 a few short pieces, till July, 180S, when he was 
 regularly admitted a practitioner of law, in the 
 Court of Common Pleas, in the county of Suffolk. 
 Previously to his admission, he had frequently 
 argued causes before magistrates and referees ; 
 and had given his friends the highest hopes of 
 future excellence. As soon as he opened his office, 
 he received an uncommon share of patronage. 
 Perhaps no young attorney in the tov/n was ever 
 so suddenly and so fully crowded with business, 
 to which he w^as assiduously attentive. His talents 
 for business were remarkable, and every exhibition 
 
liv BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 in court was an " earnest of success." Though 
 he attended the theatre^ and partook of the amuse- 
 ment of a social whist club, at Concert Hall ; he 
 neglected not his duty to his clients, for the pleas- 
 ures of the drama : and at the club, his bets were 
 moderate and his play judicious. He was never 
 intemperate ; and his retirement was seasonable. 
 
 Till the autumn of 1803, Mr. Paine had been 
 diligent in his profession, was accumulating prop- 
 erty, and increasing in reputation. After the com- 
 mencement of the theatrical season, he gradually 
 neglected his office, and became more and more 
 attached, not merely to dramatic amusements, but 
 to familiar intercourse with the performers. 
 
 Some favourite, in the green-room, for distant 
 admiration, or more familiar intimacy, seemed 
 always essential to his felicity. Mrs. Jones, as a 
 singer and performer, was now at the zenith of her 
 reputation upon the Boston boards. This er'ratic 
 Veniis crossed his orbit and attracted him from his 
 course. When passing the isle of the Syrens, he 
 could not, like Ulysses, close his ears. Fortius 
 utere loris, was a maxim, of which, the appetites 
 and passions of his advanced years prohibited the 
 adoption. The prospective scenes of his life were, 
 at this time, alluringly gilded ; but no sense of 
 cluty, no desire of usefulness, no ambition of 
 renown, could reinspire his inveterate inaction. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. IV 
 
 His clients were neglected ; suits, in wliicli lie, 
 had been engaged, were left to the care of others ; 
 his old patrons forsook him ; and his known inat- 
 tention to his profession, prevented the application 
 of new ; until, in the course of two years, his office 
 was forsaken almost entirely by himself and his 
 employers. The reasoning, chiding, and urging 
 of friends, and the expostulation of his father, were 
 ineffectual. His friendship for Bacchus became 
 constant, though seldom excessive. Gentlemen of 
 the bar assisted him gratuitously in the prosecu- 
 tion and termination of suits, which he had com- 
 menced; but many of his clients were unavoidably 
 losers by his neglect of their causes. 
 
 His name was not taken from his ofRce door till 
 the year 1809 ; but, for several years previous, he 
 scarcely paid the least attention to business ; neg- 
 lecting even his own claims, as well as the concerns 
 of others. During these years, till the day of his 
 death, scarcely was ever poet more completely under 
 the despotism of abject poverty and disease. Along 
 and severe fit of sickness, in 1805, had shattered 
 his constitution, and he seemed iadiiFerent to that 
 temperance and care, by which alone, if at all, his 
 health might have been re-established. 
 
 In the spring of the year 1807, he took a house 
 in Dorchester, where his family resided till within 
 a few months before his death. Tlie distance 
 from town being about three miles, his time was 
 
Ivi BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 divided between Dorchester and Boston. He 
 had abandoned the law, and seemed determined 
 never to resume the profession ; but fed his hopes 
 with daily resolves on the prosecution of some lit- 
 erary employment, which might add to his repu- 
 tation, and afford him the means of subsistence. 
 At one time, he determined to publish a commercial 
 paper ; at another, he proposed writing a new and 
 complete system of Rhetoric. He determined to 
 fill the pantomine of Blackbeard, and made great 
 progress in it. He digested in his mind the princi- 
 pal scenes ; when, a few pages being misplaced, he 
 was so disconcerted, that he never resumed it. He 
 had projected another play, of a higher order, and 
 had filled some of the most important scenes. The 
 plot was imaginary, and the action was thrown 
 back some centuries. The principal scene was 
 laid in the Appenines, which afforded full scope 
 for picturesque scenery. 
 
 A Spanish prince, endued with all the virtues 
 of a chivalrous age, became enamoured of a lady, 
 inferiour in rank, but worthy of his affection. 
 
 Love led by Honour at her shrine adored. 
 
 The unrelenting vengeance of his father, not 
 only discarded him as a successour, and exiled him 
 from his dominions ; but offered rewards and hon- 
 ours to the assassin, who should exhibit his head 
 in the palace. In this extremity, the exile fled to 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ivii 
 
 the mountains, and casually fell into the hands of 
 a Moorish prince, his mortal enemy, whom the 
 disasterous chances of war had compelled to seek 
 the same solitary refuge. His education and hab- 
 its, the rights of war, and the mandates of his 
 religion, demanded the life of his prisoner. But 
 Saracen humanity triumphed over the dictates 
 of duty. Succours arrived from Africa, and the 
 Moor descended from the mountain to join his 
 forces and give battle to the Christians. The for- 
 tune of the day turned in his favour, and the father 
 and future bride of his caverned guest became his 
 prisoners. The sequestered prince was invited 
 from his retreat, and the lovers were happily united. 
 The Moor, without intercession, offered to restore 
 to the inexorable father his sceptre, if he would 
 endure the connubial happiness of his son, and rein- 
 state him in his political rights. The offer was 
 accepted ; and the Saracen crowned the prince and 
 hero with the radiance of moral glory. Humanity 
 saved his enemy ; his enemy became his friend ; 
 and the divine impulses of friendship induced him 
 to forego the rights of a conqueror ! 
 
 The labour of Invention was over; and the little, 
 that remained to be done, was to adjust the scenes 
 and prepare the dialogue for the subalterns of the 
 piece ; but this little was never accomplished. 
 
 In the winter of 1808, he issued proposals for 
 publishing his poetical works. In a short time, he 
 
Iviii BIOGRAPUV. 
 
 persevered so far, as to attend to the correction of 
 thirty or forty pages : but neither the desire of 
 escaping from the pinching penury, by which, he 
 was tormented ; nor a due regard to his prom- 
 ises, and reputation, could rouse him from his 
 habitual indolence. "Shortly, in a little while, 
 in a few months,'^ were his regular responses to 
 those, who requested information when his works 
 would appear : but no further progress was made 
 in their accomplishment. 
 
 At the request of the merchants, who gave a din- 
 ner, in 1809, in honour of the " Spanish Patriots," 
 Mr. Paine wrote an Ode. About the same time, 
 he wrote a compendium of the history of that chiv- 
 alrous and gallant people, and published them in 
 a pamphlet. Both were translated into the Spanish 
 language, to the great emolument of the Spanish 
 bookseller. The Ode was criticised in his pres- 
 ence, and he, laughingly, replied, "It is a commer- 
 cial Ode for a Spanish market. In the manufacture, 
 I regarded more the gaudiness of the colours, than 
 the texture of the fabric." 
 
 In the year 1809, at the request of Mrs. Stanley, 
 an actress of some celebrity, who had been on the 
 Boston boards, and with whom Paine was inti- 
 mately acquainted, he wrote " A Monody on the 
 death of Sir John Moore." Mrs. Stanley wa« 
 then in Quebec, where, it is said, she recited the 
 Monody repeatedly, to overflowing houses, and 
 
BIOGRAPHY. liX 
 
 with the highest commendation from the Quebec 
 audience. This Monody, afier making some addi- 
 tions, he published in Boston^ in the summer of 
 1811 ; but he was mortified and disappointed in 
 the limited sale of the poem. 
 
 During the theatrical season of 1810-11, two 
 original plays were repeatedly acted on the Bos- 
 ton stage, written by William C. White, Esq. to 
 each of these, Mr. Paine wrote a long Epilogue. 
 Whatever might be the merit of the plays, i\it 
 Epilogues Avere of sufficient attraction to secure 
 a respectable audience. Hundreds of dollars he 
 had frecjuently received from the sale of a poem 
 of one or two hundred lines, and he had no reason 
 to doubt a similar success, from a similar exertion, 
 at any time ; yet to such exertion, for his own ad- 
 vantage, he could not be incited ; though, from 
 pure benevolence, and a wish to encourage Amer- 
 ican literature, he wrote, for a small gratuity, an 
 Epilogue of above two hundred lines ! 
 
 In 1811, he had a benefit, by the indulgence of 
 Messrs. Powell and Dickenson, the Boston man- 
 agers, which yielded him, although the weather 
 was inclement, two hundred dollars. 
 
 During these last years of his life, without a 
 library, wandering from place to place, frequently 
 uncertain where, or whether he could procure 
 a meal ; his thirst and acquisition of knowl- 
 edge astonishingly increased. Though frequently 
 9 
 
Ix BIOGRAPliy. 
 
 tormented with disease, and beset by duns and 
 ^^ the law's staff' officers," from whom, and from 
 prison, he was frequently relieved by friendship ; 
 neither sickness nor penury abated his love of a 
 book, and of instructive conversation. 
 
 He was several times confined by sickness for 
 several weeks, during which, his spirits sometimes 
 forsook him ; but no sooner was he enabled to go 
 abroad, than hopes and spirits alTected him with 
 all their juvenile ardour ; and plans for future life 
 were alternately projected and abandoned, and 
 new ones conceived and rejected. 
 
 Having long been on terms of the most intimate 
 friendship with him, and not having seen him, 
 for upwards of three years ; the writer was ex- 
 tremely gratified in being able to spend a few days 
 with him, the last August. Finding his libations 
 to Bacchus were copious and constant, the liberty 
 was assumed of expostulating Mith him, with all 
 possible delicacy ; but in such firm terms, as the 
 sincerity and interest of deep affection, might 
 justify. He listened, at first, with patience, and 
 without offence. He attempted to justify himself, 
 from the necessity of the case. Buch, he said, 
 \YRS then the situation of his constitution, that a 
 s;reat quantity of stimulants w ere not only harm- 
 less, but absolutely necessary. The writer urged, 
 (informing him, in some degree, liaud inexpertus 
 loqiior,) that the habit of using such stimulants 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixi 
 
 might be forsaken abruptly, witli probable safety ; 
 but gradually, with certain success ; afier which, 
 the desire, or seeming necessity of their use, would 
 never return. ]S^eglected, as he supposed himself, 
 by friends, injured as was his reputation, empty 
 as were his coffers ; he was assured of the return 
 ol friendship, the reparation of character, and cer- 
 tainty of emolument, on the first well-grounded 
 assurance of reformation. More than all other con- 
 siderations, the endeavour was made to reanimate 
 his love of poetical fame, and he was entreated to 
 undertake some work of length, that would (as such 
 a work from him must) increase the literary reputa- 
 tion of the country, and ensure his own immortality. 
 
 Such gentle upbraidings, soon excited his iras- 
 cibility ; and we parted, the one in tears, the other 
 in a state of irritation, which, however, was for- 
 gotten, on meeting the next day. 
 
 On the subject of his disorders, Br. Warren, sen. 
 eminent as a surgeon and physician, who was his 
 regular attendant, and in whom his patient had 
 the greatest confidence, has been kind enough to 
 furnish the following : 
 
 " For several of the last years of his life, Mr. 
 Paine was afllicted with disease, which rendered 
 his situation extremely uncomfortable and dis- 
 tressing. 
 
 " In the autumn of 1805, he was attacked with 
 a Eysentery, which, from neglect in the early 
 
ixii BlOGRAPin^ 
 
 stages of it;, had become obstinate and confirmed. 
 By a suitable course of medicine and regimen, the 
 complaint was, indeed, mitigated ; but, at length, 
 degenerated into chronic Biarrhma. The organs 
 connected with the stomach, and subservient to the 
 process of digestion, soon became diseased ; and 
 obstructions of the liver and other glandular parts 
 in the vicinity, almost entirely destroyed that im- 
 portant function; and a long train of the most 
 troublesome symptoms ensued ; from most of which, 
 he from time obtained a partial relief only, by an 
 occasional recurrence to medicine. 
 
 <^^ln his languid and emaciated frame, his friends 
 had long discovered the harbingers of dissolulion ; 
 and it was not surprising that, under these elrenm- 
 ftances, his spirits were sometimes depressed and 
 despondent. 
 
 *^^ Alternately flattered by amendment and the 
 prospects of recovery, and disappoikted by relapse 
 and the evidences of increasing weakness and 
 decay, his existence had become burdensome ; and 
 an uncommon share of fortitude, only, enabled him 
 to ^ sustain his infirmity.' 
 
 ^^ If his fortitude sometimes failed him, and he was 
 not always on his guard against the weaknesses of 
 his nature, let it be remembered, that he was human. 
 
 ^^ The long catalogue of suiFerings, which he 
 had so patiently endured, was closed by the symp. 
 toms of Hydrothomx; or Dropsy of the Chest. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixiii 
 
 ^^ Till within a few days of his death, he had 
 possessed his mental faculties in remarkable per- 
 fection ; and he expired, witliout having expe- 
 rienced much more pain, than what had often 
 attended some periods of his sickness, and without 
 any apparent agonies of dissolution/^ 
 
 He remained in a very feeble state of health, 
 and unemployed ; alternately cheered by hope, and 
 depressed by despondency, till about three months 
 prior to his death; v/ben his landlord, to whom he 
 had never paid but little rent, and for which, he in 
 vain sought security for the future, threatened his 
 expulsion from the premises, vi et armis. During 
 the period in which Mr. Paine was so besieged by 
 his landlord ; he tried in vain, day after day, to 
 procure a habitation for his family, in town. At 
 length a friend suggested to him, that his want of 
 health, his want of business, and his known embar- 
 rassments, interposed insuperable obstacles to the 
 obtainment of a house, wi hout giving security for 
 the rent. At this suggestion,he was highly indignant. 
 
 The day at length arrived, when he was com- 
 pelled to quit his dwelling in Dorchester ; his fur- 
 niture was brought to town ; a part of it was left at 
 his father's, and a portion was sent to Mrs. Paine's 
 mother's, who kept a small shop in town for her 
 subsistence. His wife and one child went also to 
 her mother's for a temporary residence, and two of 
 the children were at his father's. He was fed and 
 
Ixiv BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 lodged, in an apartment at his father's ; and in 
 this feeble and emaciated state, walked abroad, 
 from day to day, looking like misery personified, 
 and pouring his lamentations into the ears of his 
 friends ; who were happy to confer those little acts 
 of kindness, which afforded to him some moment- 
 ary consolation. 
 
 During this period of unhoused and disconsolate 
 wretchedness, he was requested by the ^'^ Jockey 
 Club,'' to write a song for their anniversary din- 
 ner ; with which request, be readily promised to 
 comply. Day after day elapsed without perform- 
 ance, until the anniversary came round ; on the 
 morning of which, a gentleman of the committee 
 called on him. He said he had two verses finished, 
 which did not suit him ; a sketch of a third verse ; 
 and two lines of another ; subjoining, that he had 
 neither pen, ink, nor paper, nor a place in which 
 to write. It was suggested, that a ride might be 
 of service to him ; and that at Medford, the scene 
 of the races, if he were well enough, he could be 
 furnished with the necessary implements to finish. 
 To this proposition he assented. In some degree 
 revived by the ride, he secluded himself, at twelve 
 o'clock ; remoulded what he had written ; and 
 completed the song in a short time. The labour 
 of composition had so exhausted him, that he was 
 unable to dine : but when " The Steeds of Apollo" 
 was sung, he came into the room, inspired with 
 
BIOGRAPHY. IXV 
 
 Hew life ; and during the evening, lie was uncom- 
 monly brilliant in his conversation and toasts. 
 Being congratulated on his revival, he exclaimed, 
 ^^B^ichard's himself again/' We record this as 
 the last festive banquet, at which, he was a par- 
 taker ; a scene, in which, he always shone ; and 
 which, he excessively enjoyed, when seasoned 
 with wit, and tempered with hiliarity. 
 
 The next day, he relapsed into his usual lan- 
 guor, but was solicitous to have his song correctly 
 printed — the last earthly solicitude he ever ex- 
 pressed. 
 
 A very few days before his death, when he was 
 labouring under an uncommon degree of debility, 
 he observed to a friend, that he had little expect- 
 ation of much longer surviving. His friend replied, 
 that he expected soon to see an entire edition of 
 his works. On vi^hich he remarked, " that is im- 
 possible : I have been too negligent of my fame, 
 in not publishing under my own eye; — God knows 
 who will do it now." 
 
 The disunion of his family, which, in his infirm 
 state, deprived him of his accustomed domestic 
 comforts ; and the seasonable and aifectionate atten- 
 tion of his family, evidently preyed upon his mind> 
 and hastened his dissolution. 
 
 He continued, during this interval, to attend the 
 theatre, as usual : 
 
 " Such was his ruling passion, stront^ in death." 
 
Ixvi BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 His last attendance there, was on Monday, No- 
 vember lltli. On Tuesday, he prepared himself 
 to go abroad ; but his mother and sisters, perceiv* 
 ing an excessive increase of his infirmities, laid 
 their affectionate prohibition upon him. He re- 
 paired to an attic chamber in his father's house ; 
 where he languished till Wednesday evening, 
 about half past nine o'clock, when he expired, in 
 the presence of his family and friends, with so 
 little apparent pain, that it was difficult to deter- 
 mine the precise time, when the last, lingering, 
 spark of life forsook his mortal remains. 
 
 The funeral service was performed, according to 
 the congregational mode, by the Rev. Dr. Lathrop, 
 on the ensuing Saturday ; and his remains were 
 conveyed to the family tomb, in the central bury- 
 ing ground, attended by a respectable number of 
 the most distinguished citizens. 
 
 [Mr. Prentiss had contracted to write the tSiography; and in his 
 absence, and while the press was waiting* for the residue of his 
 copy; at the request of the Publisher, Mr. Selfridge communi- 
 cated the subsequent sheets, to conclude the Sketches of Mr, Paine's 
 life, character, and writings.] 
 
BIOGRAPHY, Ixvii 
 
 Mr. Paine diedj in his thirty- eighth year^ and 
 left a daughter and two sons. In the autiimn of 
 1804^ an endemick malady swept away his second 
 and third children, then infants, within four day^ 
 of each other. Immediately after the demise of 
 Mr. Paine, his father invited his widow and chil- 
 dren to bis house, where they continue to reside. 
 This seasonable adoption, will be long and grate- 
 fully remembered, by the children of humanity. 
 
 Soon after Mr. Paine's death, the managers of 
 the theatre, upon application, liberally granted a 
 night for the benefit of Mrs. Paine and her children. 
 Unavailing efforts were made to obtain the benefit, 
 exempt from the customary expenses ; but the op- 
 ulent proprietors did not relinquish their rent/ 
 Encumbered with the charges, the benefit yielded, 
 a profit of four hundred and fifty dollars. 
 
 About this time, the "Jockey Club'' enclosed to 
 Mrs. Paine, fifty dollars; Mr. Paine not having 
 received the whole sum, which it was intended to 
 eonfcr, for " The Steeds of Apollo,^' w^ritten for 
 their anniversary. 
 
 When Mr. Paine'^s immediate dissolution was 
 pronounced inevitable, by his physicians, his friends 
 consulted Mr. Stuart, upon the practicability of 
 obtaining his portrait. He suggested, that a cast 
 of the face, in plaster, would, with his recollection 
 of the countenance, enable Moi to furnish a faithful 
 copy of the original. 
 10 
 
ixviii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 The possessors of great talents are always 
 friendlj, when treading different walks. In the 
 family of genius^ there is a community of feeling. 
 The lyre of the bard might have been strung, to 
 canonize the painter ; but the great Disposer had 
 otherwise ordered. The pencil of the painter, 
 rivalling the inspiration of Orpheus, has recalled 
 the Poet from the nations of the dead ; embodied 
 his mind ', and animated the canvass with his liv- 
 ing image. 
 
 These instances of posthumous regard, bestowed 
 upon the memory and the family of Mr. Paine, 
 savour, neither of ostentation nor selfishness, and 
 are recorded with sentiments of unmingled pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 Having consigned Mr. Paine to the tomb, it is 
 not our design. 
 
 To draw his frailties from their dread abode ; 
 
 but it will be our endeavour to dispose of his light 
 and shade, in a manner, to afford the strongest 
 relief to his character. 
 
 The stature of Mr. Paine was deceptive. His 
 height was five feet, nine and an half inches; 
 although, apparently, not more than five feet, eight 
 inches. His bones were small; his fibres had little 
 tension ; and of course, his muscles but little com- 
 pactness. His frame and movement indicated an 
 absence of physical power. His hair was sandy 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixix 
 
 and his complexion light. His forehead was high, 
 remarkably wide, and clearly defined. His eyes 
 were blue, very prominent, but inexpressive, ex- 
 cept when he was strongly excited ; and his nose 
 was of the common size, slender and angular. His 
 mouth was large, heavy, and sensual ; and his lips 
 possessed an uncommon thickness, which extended 
 to a considerable distance from the edges, which 
 were not uncommonly protuberant. The lower 
 part of his face, in character, furnished a striking 
 contrast to the upper ; but there was nothing sin- 
 gular in its formation. The tout ensemble was 
 not repulsive ; nor could it be said, 
 
 Vultus ei'at multa ac pr?eclara minantis. 
 
 Mr. Paine attached great consequence to 7nan- 
 •ners. This sentiment he, probably, early imbibed 
 from the Roman writers, who had no discrimin- 
 ating terms, to express the difference of import, 
 annexed, by us, to morals and manners. He was 
 modelled upon the old school. Without being 
 familiar, he was easy among friends, and courtly 
 to strangers. In colloquial discussion, he rigidly 
 adhered to the law of politeness ; and in mixed 
 society, he neither courted the high, nor avoided 
 the loii\ Distress never induced him to solicit 
 favours from those, who were abundantly able ; 
 and who, probably, would have been willing to have 
 conferred them. Had this salutary principle of 
 
JXX BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 pride pervaded his major, as it did his minor mor- 
 als, it would have rescued him from ruin. His 
 composition combined the most striking contrarie- 
 ties ; and his life was a continued illustration of 
 the truth of one of his own couplets ;— 
 
 Nature ne'er meant her secrets should be found ; 
 And man 's a riddle, which man can't expound. 
 
 He frequently deplored a supposed decay of 
 manners. With concern, he used to inquire, ^^ In 
 manners, wJiere is the successour q/' Gten. Knox td 
 he found P^' It was with him a constant topick of 
 complaint, that '^^ the old, genteel, town families^ 
 had been elbowed out of house and home, by new- 
 comers f^ that ^* instead of the pojished manners of 
 a city, we should soon exhibit that groivth of gen- 
 tility, which isjjroduced by ingrafting dollars upon 
 village habits and loiv employments. There is as 
 wide a diWerence,'"^ said he '^^ between the old school 
 and the new, as there was between the polished ease 
 of the reign of Augustus, and the rude turbulence 
 of the epoch of the Gracchi.'^ 
 
 In the varied powers of conversation, Mr. Paine 
 particularly excelled. With the operation of the 
 passions ; the modes of artificial life ; and the 
 general laws of human nature ; he was well ac- 
 quainted. He had learned the history and use of 
 those branches of knowledge, which he had not 
 attentively cultivated. This not only answered 
 the purposc^s pf oral comjnuiiicatioB ^ but of poetic 
 
BIOGRAPHY. ]xxi 
 
 allusion and illustration. He liad scarcely wit- 
 nessed a seene^ from which, he had not selected a 
 metaphor ; drawn a simile ; or constructed an alle- 
 gory. His narration conformed to the canons of 
 criticism, for the fable and structure of a poem. 
 He rarely confined himself to a dull recital of 
 facts ; but interspersed his narrative, with pertinent 
 reflections ; adorned it with brilliant allusions ; 
 and frequently indulged in animated episodes, 
 which he always highly embellished. His tran^ 
 sitions. 
 
 From grave to gay ; from lively to severe, 
 
 were rapid and unexpected. When kindled by 
 sympathy, excited by collision, or roused from 
 opposition, he enlivened, delighted, and aston- 
 ished, for successive hours. Once engaged, he 
 was an electric battery ; approach him, and lie 
 scintillated j touch him, and he emitted a blaze. 
 
 We will select a few instances of that sponta- 
 neous flow of thought, which was ^^ wont to set 
 the table on a roar." He rarely quitted a conviv- 
 ial party, without having said some, perhaps many 
 things, as memorable as any which are recollected. 
 
 When the opposition to the erection of the the- 
 atre was overcome, he remarked, " The Vandal 
 s]}iritof]puritanism is prostrate in JVetv-EnglandJ^ 
 The first time that he dined at his father's, after 
 their reconciliation, his toast was requested, and 
 |ie gave, ^' T/je love of liherty^ and the liberty of 
 
Ixxii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 loving.'^ Tlierb was an alarm of fire, when he was 
 playing whist, at Concert Hall. A gentleman ob- 
 served, that the fire was near Br. Latlirop's, as 
 there was a luminous reflection from the steeple 
 of his meeting-house. Without the least diversion 
 from his game, he said, ^^ The sj)lendour of the 
 church always defends upon the distress of the 
 citizen.'^ A volume of ecclesiastic history, in a sin- 
 gle sentence ! A client, of Titanian size, was in his 
 office ; his visage was dark, furrowed, and shining 
 with perspiration. When he retired, Paine ex- 
 claimed, ^* That fellow^ s countenance is the eastern 
 aspect of the Alps^ at sunrise ; — alternate splendour 
 and gloom / — ridges of sunshine and cavities of 
 shade.^^ In a political discussion, which was con- 
 ducted with warmth, he said, of the Essex Junto, 
 '-^ Washington ivas its sublime head, and the tower 
 of its strength ; it was informed hy the genius, and 
 guided hy the energy of Hamilton. Since their 
 decease, nothing, but the attic salt of Fisher Ames ^ 
 has preserved it from putrefaction. When the 
 ethereal spirits escaped, the residuum settled into 
 faction. It has captured Boston, and keeps it in 
 tow, nice a prize ship.''* Dining one day, with a 
 
 *Not to make an apology, but to exonerate. Mr. Paine, from 
 a momentary vaccination in his political principles, we would 
 observe, that this remark was made in the summer of 1807, 
 after the attack of the British ship of war, Leopard, upon the 
 American frigate, Chesapeak, At this period, certain jour- 
 nalists, essayists, and pamphleteers, agaiufit the most drarlij 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixxiii 
 
 friend^ some of whose guests, he fancied, treated 
 him with disrespect ; he was resolved upon revenge, 
 before the separation of the company. When he 
 had dined, he monopolized the table, by com- 
 mencing a dissertation upon Juvenal and his sat- 
 ires, with some pointed applications to the persons 
 and characters of those whom he wished to punish. 
 The stream flowed uninterruptedly. The obnox- 
 ious individuals, soon retired from a table, where, 
 after dining, they were neither pleased nor edified. 
 When he perceived, that they were gone, he ex- 
 claimed, with an air of triumph, ^^/ have made 
 these great men, so sensible of their littleness, that 
 they cannot endure it." In a small party of friends, 
 religion became the subject of discussion. The 
 internal and historical evidences of revelation, 
 Were enforced with great ingenuity and eloquence 
 by Mr. Paine. His adversary, if not convinced, 
 was overwhelmed ; and after a moment's pause, 
 petulantly propounded this question : " If you are 
 
 dejined rights of their orjn cot:niTi/, united, in vindication of 
 the aggression of the British commander. The minister of 
 foreign relations, at St. James', hastened to disavow the act ; 
 the king, from his throne, disavowed it to his parliament ; and 
 the Bi'itish Government have since made atonement for the 
 outrage. If the atonement had been accorded, as a matter of 
 strict right, unincumbered, with " the spontaneous bounty of 
 his majesty," in the pitiful provision for the families of the 
 deceased, Mr. Madison would not have disgraced his country, 
 by accepting it. The royal bounty accepted, as a healing 
 plaster, for the bruised honour of America ! 
 
Ixxiv iSIOGKAPHl.; 
 
 SO strenuous a believer, Sir, wliy don't yon attend 
 public worship ?" This abrupt departure from the 
 main question, could not have been anticipated ; 
 but Mr. Paine instantaneously replied, '^ Religion^ 
 Sir, does not consist in forms ; nor do I believe, 
 that -priests are oracles. The lily, or the glow- 
 worm, furnishes higher evidence of the being and 
 attributes of the Beity^ than all the tomes of the 
 christian fathers. The universe is vocal with the 
 J\Iaker^s praise / and J prefer, like the primitive 
 christians, to worship in a temple, not made with 
 hands.^^ A gentleman of some literary pretensions, 
 was the reputed editor of two periodical papers, 
 the Emerald and the Ordeal, which went down, at 
 no distant period from Ciich other. Ignorant of 
 this fact, a literary stranger inquired of Mr. Paine, 
 *^^ whsd rank this gentleman held among the liter- 
 ati?" Paine answered, ^^ He possesses the greatest 
 literary execution of any man in Jlmerica. Two 
 journals have perished under his hands, in six 
 months !" We have introduced as much variety, 
 in these selections, as their number would admit. 
 In the latter years of Mr. Paine's life, his con- 
 versation, in some degree, changed its character. 
 He was less brilliant, and more didactic. The 
 Drama, literature, metaphysics, and theolog}^, were 
 his favourite subjects ; but he frequently ranged 
 the regions of science. 
 
 Far as the solar walk, or piilky way. 
 
EIOGiRAPHY. IXXV 
 
 In all companies, he was a decided foe to vul- 
 garity and indecency. Had some companion, 
 like Bos well, been diligent in compiling the 
 fragments of his conversation, volumes might have 
 been composed, not inferiour, in splendour and 
 strength, to much, wbicli has been gleaned from 
 the British Socrates. His pen opened the quarry^ 
 but liis tongue gave a lustre to the diamond. 
 
 In his early years, Mr. Paine was a diligent 
 and systematic student ; and what was once ac- 
 quired, was never forgotten. Upon unimportant 
 dates and trivial incidents, he never dissipated atten- 
 tion. He had committed to memory, but few long 
 passages, even from his favourite authors ; but the 
 essence of a book, which he had once read, never 
 escaped the keen grasp of his mind. He possessed 
 the rare gift of " an intellectual digestion, that 
 concocted the pulp of learning, and refused its 
 husks," in a degree, which falls to the lot of but few. 
 
 To his collegiate attainments, in the languages, 
 we have already adverted. To these, he added a, 
 knowledge of the French, competent to read its 
 writers with iluency. In philosophy, geography, 
 philology, history, metaphysics, and criticism, he 
 was well versed; in cliymistry and medicine, he 
 was also a considerable proficient. Few topics of 
 conversation could be introduced, upon which, he 
 was unable to make a brilliant display ; and no 
 man ever enjoyed a more singular felicity in the 
 
IxXVi BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 command of his powers. Ovid, Juvenal, Cicero, 
 and Qiiintilian, were the Romans, with whom he 
 held the ^^ sweetest communion." He was per- 
 fectly conversant with the British classics ; but 
 Shakespeare and Dryden were the household gods 
 of his muse. 
 
 The reading of his latter years was extremely 
 desultory ; but he seized every new fact and prin- 
 ciple with avidity, and inalienably appropriated 
 them to the stock, already reposited in his own 
 inexhaustible magazine. He was singularly con- 
 scious of the transitory events of the living world ; 
 and had an intuitive knowledge of stage effect^ as 
 well in the Drama of reality, as in the humble 
 scenes of mimic exhibition. He could predict with 
 accuracy, the success of a play and the issue of a 
 campaign, the turmoils of the green-room and the 
 agitations of the republic. To those, with whom 
 he was most intimate, the march of his mind, in 
 its various acquisitions ^'^ amidst inconvenience and 
 distraction, in sickness and in sorrow," was a 
 matter of wonder and surprise. 
 
 Under the tuition of his great master, Mr. Paine 
 cultivated, with assiduity and success, the elements 
 of his profession, and the subtle science of special 
 pleading. Probably, no student had ever acquired 
 a more ready precision of technical expression, or 
 had better imbued his mind with legal forms. Few 
 could have been more demonstrative in forensic 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixxvii 
 
 argument and in the regions of eloquence, none 
 could have wheeled his flight upon a bolder wing. 
 Prompted by an ambition to shine, in his earliest 
 assays at the bar of the Common Pleas, he cited 
 Horace to the court, and explained positions to the 
 Jury, by mythological allusions ; but experience 
 soon taught him, that classical learning was an ill- 
 assorted commodity, for the market in which he 
 exposed it. 
 
 In politics, Mr. Paine was a disciple of the old 
 federal school. He understood the constitution, 
 as Washington administered, and as Hamilton had 
 expounded it. He was an advocate for the prac- 
 tical circumscription of state sovereignties, and was 
 invariably opposed to state interferences in national 
 legislation. He said, when Virginia pronounced 
 the alien and sedition laws unconstitutional, " This 
 won't do — it is taking the bolt from the hand of 
 the thuuderer." His <^^ Rule New England,'' 
 written many years ago, and his ^^ Arouse, Arouse, 
 Columbia's Sons, Arouse," written for the 4th of 
 July, 1811, evince a striking contrast. One is 
 local, the other national. If popular songs produce 
 effect, the tendency of the sentiments of the former^ 
 is to dismember, and of the latter, to cement the 
 union. Ardent patriotism was the predominant pas- 
 sion of his heart ; and he traced the rising glories 
 of his country, in the brightest visions of fancy. 
 
Ixxviii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Of Ills religious opinions, we can speak with 
 coBfidenee. In "The Nature and Progress of 
 Liberty." in bis conimeudiition of Mayhew, wbo 
 first dissolved the religious spell, that bound New 
 England, by vindicating the right of private jndg- 
 met.t, it maybe perceived, that lie bad laid the foun- 
 dation of free thinlchig. In ea.rly life, the fanatic 
 Atheism of France, decorated in all (he meretri- 
 cious charms of eloquence and philosophy, took a 
 transient possession of his mind. He, however, 
 soon abjured the comfortless tenets of his new 
 creed; seriously examined the Evidences of Chris- 
 tianity ; and died in the belief of the religion of 
 his fathers. 
 
 A general coincidence of opinion, has induced 
 us to extract Mr. Paine's character, as an author, 
 from tlie prospectus to his works. 
 
 ^' Of Mr. Paine, as an author, we cannot speak 
 in terms of unmingled praise. His verse, indeed, 
 seldom loiters into prose ; but it must be confessed, 
 that his prose is here and there " tricked and 
 frounced, till it outmantles all the pride of verse." 
 His numbers are, perhaps, never feeble or fault- 
 ering, but a wild and frolic imagination, occasion- 
 ally, wantons through his periods, and sometimes 
 displays itself in contemning the chaster elegancies, 
 and sometimes in neglecting the severer decencies 
 of thought and diction. 
 
BIOGRAPHY. ixxix 
 
 ^^Yet, sotwitlistanding the few and scattered 
 passages, to wliieli the prudery of criticism may 
 except, the prose, as well as the verse of Mr. 
 Paine, will always be regarded, as invigorated 
 with the ^^ authentic fire" of a bold and fervid 
 genius. His faults of style and sentiment must 
 stand as the proofs, for they are, unquestionably, 
 the effects, of a great mind, failing in great attempts. 
 Like his favourite, Dryden, Mr. Paine delighted 
 in those bursts of enthusiasm, which are great and 
 striking in themselves, and appeal to the heart, 
 with a power which awakens and absorbs the whole 
 passion of admiration, perhaps for no other or bet- 
 ter reason, than merely because they disdain and 
 defy the maxims of Aristotle. 
 
 *^ Such are his defects ; but the excellencies of 
 Mr. Paine are sufficient to atone for all his offences, 
 even if they were infinitely more frequent and fla- 
 grant against good taste and sober criticism. Of 
 tliese excellencies, the most prominent, and that 
 to which we would direct the attention of every 
 reader, is the high and holy strain of moralit}^ and 
 patriotism, which breathes through his writings, 
 like a response, whispering out the fates, from the 
 shrine of Apollo. With this spirit, his prose, as 
 w^ell as his verse, is largely informed. It charms, 
 in his earlier efforts : it delights and astonishes, in 
 ihe productions of his riper years. His patriotism 
 never foams itself out in frothy professions ; his 
 
IXXX BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 morality never loses its serene and cheerful dig- 
 nity, by descending to humour the whims of the 
 fickle, or mimic the airs of the thoughtless. Such 
 was his reverence for virtue, that the virgin's 
 cheek, while reading his page, cannot redden to a 
 blush : his affection for his natal soil was such, 
 that his country, as some faint requital of his grat- 
 itude,.ought always to boast of his fame, as of one, 
 among the living lights of her own untarnished 
 glory. 
 
 '^ Upon Mr. Paine's scrupulous observance of 
 the laws of English Prosod}^, as settled by Dryden 
 and Pope, on his exact rhymes, his happy allu- 
 sions, his brilliant imagery, and all his other and 
 subsidiary accomplishments as an author, it were 
 easy to enlarge. But to those who cherish the 
 hope (is it a fond or an idle hope ?) of seeing one 
 of their countrymen taking his place, not by the 
 courtesy of the present age, but by the full and 
 consentient suffrage of posterity, on the same shelf 
 with the prince of English rhyme, enough has 
 already been said.'' 
 
 To speak of Mr. Paine as a man ; — Mc laibov, 
 Iwc opus est. In his intercourse with the world, 
 his earliest impressions were rarely correct. His 
 vivid imagination, in his first interviews, under- 
 valued, or overrated almost every individual with 
 whom he came in contact ; but when a protracted 
 acquaintance had effaced early impressions, his 
 
BIOGRAPHY. IxXXi 
 
 judgment recovered its tone^ and no man broiiglit 
 his associates to a fairer scrutiny ; or could delin- 
 eate tlieir characteristics with greater exactness. 
 
 Nullius addictus jurare, in verba, raagistri j 
 
 and when he had once formed a deliberate opinion^, 
 without a change of circumstances^ it is not known 
 that he ever renounced it. Studious to please, he 
 was only impatient of obtrusive folly, impertinent 
 presumption, or vicious speculation. His friend- 
 ships were cordial, and his good genius soon rec- 
 tified the precipitance of his enmities. To con- 
 flicting propositions, he listened with attention j 
 heard his own opinions contested, with compla- 
 cency ; and replied with courtesy. No root of 
 bitterness ever quickened in his mind. If injured^, 
 he was placable ; if oifendetl, he 
 
 Shewed a hasty spark. 
 
 And straight was cold again. 
 
 Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos, 
 
 was in strict unison with the habitual elevation 
 of his feelings. Such services, as it was in his 
 power to render to others, he performed with manly 
 zeal ; and their value v/as enhanced, by being gen- 
 erally rendered, where they were most needed ; and 
 through life, he cherished a lively gratitude towards 
 those, from whom he had received benefits. His 
 mind was inaccessible to the tribe of malignant 
 passions, which so frequently disfigure literary his- 
 tory; he hailed every young author, as a brother: 
 
IxXXii BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 and every candidate, aspiring to fame, found in liini 
 an ardent and an unremitting supporter. No mail 
 was ever more perfectly purified from the taint of 
 avarice, or more sincerely respected and reverenced 
 the amiable and heroic virtues iu others. Yet indo- 
 lence, w^ine, and women, have eriised his name 
 from the calendar of the saints. To the stern 
 justice of this decision, we bow in sorrowful ac- 
 cordance ; but let us impartially examine the cir- 
 cumstances, in miligatiou, as well as those, which 
 coutervailthe effect of the sentence, if not reverse 
 the judgment. He sensibly felt, and clearly fore- 
 saw, the consequences of the continuous indulgence 
 of his habits, and passed frequent resolutions of 
 reformation ; but daily embarrassments shook the 
 resolves of his seclusion, and reform was indefi- 
 nitely postponed. He urged, as an excuse for 
 delaying the Herculean task, that it was impossi- 
 ble to commence it, Vv h'le perplexed with diilculty 
 and surrounded with distress. Instead of rising 
 with an elastic power, and throwing the incumbent 
 pressure from his shoulders, he succumbed under 
 its accumulating weight, until he became insuper- 
 ably recumbent ; and vital action was only precari- 
 ously sustained, by adminisleriisg " the extreme 
 medicine of the constitiitioo, for it^ daily food.'^ 
 
 If those, who ascend Parnassus, experience a 
 keenness of pleasure, which none but poets know, 
 it is to be presumed, that_^they experience a keen- 
 ness of sorrow, which none but poets feel. In 
 
BIOGRAPHY. Ixxxiii 
 
 genius, there is not only an inherent haughtiness, 
 which frequently disdains the maxims of vulgar 
 prudence ; but it has been contended, that in the 
 poetic temperament^ there is some intractable qual- 
 ity, practically at variance with moral discretion. 
 However this may be, it is a general truth, that 
 these ethereal spirits, in their journey to the stars, 
 have had but a sorrowing pilgrimage in the nether 
 world. But we will relinquish hypothesis and 
 recur to fact. 
 
 Mental labour induces lassitude of body and a 
 disinclination to exertion. When these are accom- 
 panied by illness, the stoutest resolution is ap- 
 palled. How can those affirm, whose sails have 
 always been prosperously filled, that, if their lives 
 had been cheated by hope, and chequered by 
 misfortune, like his, they should have uniformly 
 refrained from " physical aid for their moral con- 
 solation ?'' Driven into scenes, for society, where 
 virtue does not always wear her most forbidding 
 aspect, what mortal can afTumjthat he should have 
 steadfastly preserved his stoical austerity ? In 
 conversation, Mr. Paine was always the champion 
 of good principles, and ws believe, that he has 
 written no couplet, which a moralist would wish 
 to blot. An example, so pregnant with misery, 
 cannot be contagious ; indeed, the example of any 
 private individual. 
 
 His time a moment, and a point his space, 
 
 IS 
 
IxXXiv BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 cannot be of wide influence or of long duration^ 
 compared with the imperishable relieks of the 
 mind. The statesman, who has served, and the 
 hero, who has bled for his country, live in their 
 oVi^n great actions, to inspire unborn ages, and 
 posterity consecrates their memories, without a pre- 
 vious inquest, as to their temperance or chastity. 
 It is immaterial, to the present generation, whether 
 the digcoverer of the mariner's compass, or the 
 inventor of the art of printing, lived morally or 
 sensually. If irregularity of life overshadowed 
 their fame for a season, they have since emerged 
 from the cloud, in a blaze of glory, which has 
 dispelled the mist, and will convey their names to 
 the end of time, as the most illustrious benefactors 
 of the human race. The writer, however he lived, 
 who impregnated his compositions with high prin- 
 ciples of moral action, and sublime sentiments of 
 .patriotism : and who wrote popularly enough to 
 be read, and splendidly or profoundly enough to 
 endure, is a witness, testifying i'rom the grave — 
 an advocate from the world of spirits, in the cause 
 of morality. He has lighted a vestal fire, in the 
 temple of virtue, and will officiate at her altars, 
 
 Until the last and dreadful houi", 
 This crumbling pageant shall devour; 
 The trumpet shall be heard on high ; 
 The dead shall live — the living die. 
 
 So.sv'd?;, Sct'it. 1, 1812. 
 
TRIBUTARY LINES, 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE 
 
 ROBERT TREAT PAINE, JUN. ESQ. 
 
MONODY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 ROBERT T. PAINE, JUN. ESq. 
 
 JMouRN we the Brave, whose days are past; 
 
 Whose gallant deeds, in war, are o'er ; 
 When dark, m fury, swept the blast, 
 
 They fell to save their ualive shore ? 
 
 Mourn we the fall of beauty's flower, 
 
 Gay, fragrant, fresh ; whose glowing charms 
 
 Bloom'd through the morning's modest hour, 
 Then sunk in summer's sultry arms. 
 
 And shall our Bard, unsung, expire, 
 
 In cold neglect, unhonor'd lie, 
 Who struck his high, heroic lyre, 
 
 With fancy's holiest ecstacy ? 
 
 Bright was his youth — the playful muse 
 Breath'd on his infant lips her flame, 
 
 And, ere he caught her dazzling hues, 
 The votary wildly dream'd of fame. 
 
 Ne'er was a nobler spirit born, 
 
 A loftier soul, a gentler heart ; 
 Above the world's ignoble scorn, 
 
 Above the reach of venal art. 
 
ixxxviii .MONODY. 
 
 Genius was his ; whose various rays 
 Illum'd with joy the social hours, 
 
 Or pour'd a full, impetuous blaze 
 
 Through all the Poet's magic powers. 
 
 Nor less his daring spirit sought 
 
 The depths of learning's ancient st(ji*e ; 
 
 Or paus'd o'er nature's secret thougl^, 
 Or soar'd in fame's sublimer lore. "^ 
 
 But most shall friendship love to trace 
 The scenes, with liberal mirth entwin'd ; 
 
 What streams of wit ! what flowing grace ! 
 What sparkling sense ! what cloudless mind.' 
 
 Oft has declin'd the midnight star, 
 Yet seem'd the parting hour too near ; 
 
 And oft the breezy morn, afar. 
 
 Caught the loud laugh, or generous tear. 
 
 But ail is past — beneath the sod 
 Low lies the Poet's weary head : 
 
 His grief-worn soul has rest in God ; 
 Bright-rob'd, in glory, ere it fled. 
 
 Nor bitter be the tears, that flow 
 In silence round his wintry urn ; 
 
 Still friendship's breast shall warmly glow, 
 Still love with holy reverence mourn. 
 
 When sleep the Brave — 'tis honour's sleep ; 
 
 When falls the Bard, his brilliant doom 
 Age after age shall memory keep. 
 
 And chase the darkness from his tomb. 
 
 The dreams of wealth shall pass away, 
 Nor leave a wreck of thought behind; 
 
 But deathless, Genius, is thy sway, 
 The immortal triumph of the mind. 
 
The following Tributary Lines appeared in the " Charleston Courier," 
 soon after the death of Mr. Paine. 
 
 " Resound, ye hills, resound my mournful lay." 
 
 VV EEP now, ye Muses, let your sorrows flow. 
 For Paine, the pride of minstrelsy, lies low ; 
 Ye, who inspired his ever tuneful breath. 
 Could not secure him from the shafts of death. 
 
 His harp is broken, and his lyre unstrung, 
 Who Moore's triumphant death and gloiy sung ; 
 And he, who deck'd with laurel valor's tomb, 
 Now rests, alas ! with Moore, in kindred gloom. 
 
 If wit or genius had the power to save 
 -Their great possessor from the darksome grave ; 
 Your much-lov'd offspring's loss we should not mournj 
 Nor moisten, with our tears, his funeral urn. 
 
 Who his deserted station can supply, 
 And fill the foremost ranks of Poesy ? 
 Vain is th' attempt our soiTows to restrain^ 
 For we shall never view another Paine. 
 
 For every noble quality renowned^ 
 And with the choicest gifts of Nature crowned : 
 Shall not his strains succeeding Bards inspire. 
 And stamp their works with more than mortal fire^ 
 
 Yes ; while the noble fame of Moore shall last^ 
 Not scandal's breath, nor envy's withering blast, 
 Shall dai-e, with impious power, attack his name, 
 Or, from his memory, snatch the wreaths of fame. 
 
COLUMBIA S BARD. 
 
 W HERE yon willow's boughs entwining 
 
 Cast a shadow o'er the plain, 
 In her classic shades reclining, 
 Science mourns the loss of Paine. 
 
 Columbia's Bard ! 
 O'er his tomb the ipuses weep, 
 Where, shrin'd in earth, his ashes sleep 1 
 
 Never ! shall his tuneful numbers 
 
 Charm the list'ning ear again ! 
 Cold and silent, whei'e he slumbers, 
 Genius weeps the fate of Paine. 
 
 Columbia's Bard I 
 " Son of Song !" thy lay is o'er. 
 The festive hall resounds no more ! 
 
 " To-morrow may the trav'ler come. 
 
 He, who has heard the Poet's strain, 
 His foot may press the grassy tomb," 
 Unconscious 'tis the bed of Paine. 
 
 Columbia's Bard I 
 Hark ! the hollow night-breeze sighs, 
 "Where, wrapped in death, the Poet lies ! 
 
 Haste thee, Spring ! to deck thy bowers. 
 
 Bid young Beauty dress the plain ! 
 Let thy fairest, sweetest flowers, 
 
 Wreathe around the tomb of Paine, 
 
 Columbia's Bard I 
 May he, who bears his father's name. 
 Possess his genius ! merit all his fame ! 
 
THE ^ 
 
 WORKS 
 
 R. T. PAINE, JUN. ESQ 
 
PART I. 
 
 JUVENILE POEMS. 
 
 Consisting chiefly of 
 
 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
JVOTE- 
 
 These Poems are selected from a 7nanuscrifit^ tohich apfiears 
 to contain copies of Mr. Paine's themes., as they are called., at 
 Cambridge. These themes^ written diiring his junior and senior 
 years., were submitted to a Professor for revision. Whether the 
 copies were made before or after such revision I know not. The 
 motto and preface to this manuscript are worthy of places in the 
 text. ~- 
 
 Beside the poems selected from this manuscript, it is proposed^ 
 ■under this division of the work, to arrange, according to time, such 
 of Mr, Paine's performances, while at the University, as came 
 without exaction from his pen, or were produced by some publick 
 solemnity. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES- 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Maturer life, with smiling e3'c, will view 
 
 The imperfect scenes, which youthful fancy drew. 
 
 W HiLE vernal years in swift succession roll, 
 And fancy's gairish prospects cheer the soul ; 
 Beneath Maecenas' guardian care, my muse 
 With panting breast her infant song pursues; 
 
 To teach the rapid moments, as they fly 
 Beyond the utmost ken of moital eye. 
 The smile of sportive pleasure to assume. 
 And bid the flowers of hope unfolding bloom ; 
 To gild with bright improvement's flattering ray 
 The fond I'emembrance of each passing day ; 
 To mould the heart by sentiment and truth, 
 And bind the olive round the brow of youth ; 
 These were the motives, which inspired the verse. 
 Though neither bold, nor elegantly terse, 
 Though in the strains no dazzling beauties shine. 
 Though poesy reject each embryo line ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 Yet simple numbers, unrefined by art, 
 Here paint the warm effusions of the heart. 
 The lettered bigot, with sarcastick phlegm. 
 And lifeless system, may the song condemn ; 
 But let proud criticks frown, whene'er I sing, 
 'Tis not to them I tune my vocal string ; 
 If my harsh notes disgust your nicer ear. 
 Avert your heads, ye are not forced to hear. 
 While I adventure on the sea of song. 
 Propitious learning wafts my bark along ; 
 Yet see, at candour's throne the suppliant sues. 
 In the low accents of the lisping muse. 
 
"An undevout astronomer is mad." 
 
 Young. 
 
 IWritten J\"ov. 17, 1790.] 
 
 Jdright is the sun beam, smiling after showers ; 
 Sweet are the pleasures of the rural groves, 
 When pearls, unnumbered, deck the morning grass ; 
 But sweeter still the joys of evening walk. 
 Brighter the glories of the unbounded God.* 
 
 Hail, sacred eve, thy presence sweet I woo, 
 Where pensive Solitude with rambling feet. 
 Strays through thy dusky groves, to view the works 
 Of heaven's high King ; or, sunk m rapture's trance, 
 With silent gratitude delights to hear 
 Nature's soft harp, " the musick of the spheres," 
 Which chant in endless notes Jehovah's praise ! 
 
 Come tlien, sweet nymph, thy mildest breath impact, 
 To swell the youthful muse's artless reed ; ' 
 Faintly to echo, with unskilful trill, 
 One note of Nature's universal song. 
 
 The sun, fatigued with his diumal course 
 Through heaven's high summit, sunk to soft repose'. 
 The Zephyrs, loaded with the rich perfumes 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Of yon tall hill, in gay luxuriance clad, 
 
 Whispered invitement^ to the bower of joy, 
 
 And by the ambrosial presents, which they brought, 
 
 Urged their request, and won my willing soul.* 
 
 To the fair spot I rove ; a devious way 
 
 In many wandei'ings leads me to the height. 
 
 Along its brow a shaggy ridge of rocks, 
 
 High towering, keeps the distant fields in awe, 
 
 Enhedged^ with flowers, and shrubs, and vines, and thorns, 
 
 Which in luxuriant confusion grew.^ 
 
 Deep boiling o'er the top from confluent springs, 
 A river rolls adown the sloping hill ; 
 From the high rocks the dashing current leaps 
 In one broad sheet, till, spreading by degrees, 
 The white foam flashes o'er the pointed crags. 
 Which with continual rage embroil its waves ; 
 Now whirls in eddies, now in loud cascades 
 Rolls the vexed current ; while with rapid speed 
 Waves crowd on waves, to escape the rocks, and gain 
 The peaceful harbour of the quiet vale. 
 
 How short this ever varying scene of life ! 
 How troubled too Avith woes ! Thus down the stream 
 Of cares, perplexities, distress and wants. 
 As waves on waves, so generations crowd. '' 
 See, the vain bubble, floating down the surge, 
 From yon bright cloud a purple tincture draws ; 
 But mark yon rock ; its beauties ; they are fled ! 
 Thus wrecked, shall vanish all the world calls great ; 
 Not all his purple can protect the king. 
 The busy world, and all the joys it boasta> 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Where harpy Care and Disappointment reign, 
 
 Are like the billows of the troubled sea ; 
 
 While calm Content and Solitude, sweet pair, 
 
 Like the soft lustre of Hesperian day. 
 
 E'er sweetly smile to lure us from the storm. 
 
 When sin disturbed the peace of Eden's bowers, 
 
 And man, degenerate, to her banners fled ; 
 
 All-bounteous Heaven, although provoked to wrath, 
 
 Sent these fair visitants with exiled man, 
 
 To guide him in the paths, which lead to peace. 
 
 Here then they come ! Their silent tread I hear.^ 
 
 God to their smiles creative power has given, 
 
 For here they smile, and second Eden blooms. 
 
 The gilded roof, the regal dome they fly. 
 
 And here with mild Philosophy retreat. 
 
 To shady grots, where Contemplation reigns, 
 
 They lead the heavenly pensive maid ; 'tis here 
 
 That purest happiness delights to dwell. 
 
 Can he, who in these solitary seats 
 
 Retired, enjoying philosophick ease ; 
 
 Can he, whose study and delight 's to scan 
 
 The laws, which regulate the starry world, 
 
 Be so infatuate, as to think that Chance, 
 
 Presiding, held tlie sceptre of the sky. 
 
 Gave Nature birth, and linked in one great chain 
 
 Creation's scale, from angels to the worm ? 
 
 Dun night her sable curtain draws around, 
 And with diffusive dai'kness, far and near. 
 Burying the cot, the palace, and the tower, 
 Calls Reason's eye from objects here below, 
 To trace the wonders of tlie spangled sky. 
 2 
 
10 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Far as the eye can sweep in utmost range, 
 
 Where spheres on spheres in bright confusion roll. 
 
 Where swift Philosophy with towering speed 
 
 Extends her wings, and from the blazing height 
 
 Of Sirius descries more distant worlds ;' " 
 
 These are thy Avonders, great Jehovah ; these,' ' 
 
 As all their various orbits they perform, 
 
 Speak forth thy majesty and endless praise. 
 
 The mighty pillars of the universe, 
 
 The ethereal arch, with starry curtains hung, 
 
 Thy hands have made ; through the stupendous frame 
 
 Loud hallelujahs and hosannas sound, 
 
 Wafting thy glory to unnumbered worlds, 
 
 In Natvire's language, understood by all. ' ^ 
 
 Yet though to us unbounded these may seem. 
 
 Throned on the height of thy omnipotence, 
 
 Thou look'st abroad with all discovering eye, 
 
 And all creation far beneath thee rolls. 
 
 'Tis thou, who check' st in mid career tlie storm, * ^ 
 
 Which on the wings of furious whii'lwinds sweeps ; 
 
 When battling clouds, in horrid ruin, crush, 
 
 And their pent wrath in bursting lightnings pour. ' * 
 
 When raging winds, from jEoIus released. 
 
 From its foundations heave the boiling deep,' ^ 
 
 And heaven-topped waves in liquid mountains rise, 
 
 And leave old ocean's dark recesses dry ; 
 
 Thou smils't;— the main subsides, to smile witli thee.* ^ 
 
 When, in the car of wrath, thou thunderest forth 
 To scour the nations with afflictive rod ; 
 Before thy chariot wheels, self rolling, flies'^ 
 Pale Awe, and strikes the universe with dread. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 11 
 
 The tall hills tremble, and the valleys rise ; 
 
 Guilt's tottering knees in mad distraction beat, 
 
 And the rent poles re-echo with thy voice. 
 
 One angry look from thee would cause the world 
 
 To dwindle mto nought ; one wratliful word 
 
 The universal edifice to fall,' ' 
 
 And its high colunms moulder into dust. 
 
 What soul but quakes, when thy deep thunders roll, 
 Qr starts affrighted, when thy lightnings fly ? 
 The astonish'd earth confesses power divine, 
 And, trembling, owns the presence of its God; 
 Shall not devotion then, with early day 
 Enkindling, glow, nor at the setting sun, 
 Man, thy own offspring, praise thy glorious name ? 
 Forbid it, heaven, that he again should sin 
 Against the light of all your brilliant orbs, 
 And be expelled from earth's tmblest abode. 
 An Eden, sure, compared to hells below ! 
 
 Can there exist a son from Adam sprung, 
 How abject e'er from native dignity. 
 Or, in the vale of ignorance remote 
 From the bright sunshine of the learned world, 
 Who but uplifts his eye to yon bright vault, 
 Views all the glories, which emblaze the pole, 
 And doubts, one moment, their Creator's power ? 
 All nature 's vocal with the voice of God ; 
 From sphere to sphere Jehovah's name resounds ; 
 E'en savage Indians, with untutored souls, 
 " See God in clouds, and hear him in the winds." 
 
12 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 If then one high Supreme presides o'er all ; 
 As he, who is not deaf to Nature's voice, 
 Can't but confess ; who then can be so mad, 
 As to refuse, to that omniscient Power, 
 Devotion, due to his omnipotence ? 
 And in rebellion rise against his arm, 
 Whose breath created, and enlivens nature ? 
 The soul of man, too feeble to endure 
 The vile transgression, shudders at its sight. 
 
 But there are such, who in the moral world 
 With genius blest, by fostering wisdom nursed. 
 Who oft have ranged the illimitable sky, 
 In vain conception of some selfish end, 
 Nor given to God the gloiy of his skill. 
 With vain idolatry and frenzy fired, 
 They reach the utmost verge of mortal ken. 
 Nor once perceive the features of a God 
 In wide .magnificence illumine all. 
 They see the grand machine unvarying roll, 
 Nor once discern the arm, that moves the whole. 
 In " light ineffable," they soar aloft, 
 But stain its purity with blackest crime. 
 Recoiling Reason startles at the deed, 
 And Nature's self, with indignation fired, 
 Blushes to view her own perversity. 
 
 Dark night with deepening gloom draws on apace 5 
 The russet groves no trembling zephyr moves ; 
 In majesty ascends night's brilliant queen; 
 The lengthened shades o'er every field extend, 
 And light, promiscuous, beautifies each scene. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. IS 
 
 Hard by the murmurs of the chrystal stream, 
 A sudden voice I hear ; amazed I stand, 
 Catch every sound, and still the voice returns ! 
 
 Behold a sage advancing through the groves, 
 The moonbeam trembling on his silver locks. 
 Again I listen, but his voice has ceased ! 
 Time's ruthless ha,nd with wrinkles knit his brow ; 
 A long white beard descended froiu his chin ; 
 A sudden awe thi'ills through my every limb ; 
 He stops, abrupt, beside a purling stream, 
 Where chaste Diana kissed the silver wave. 
 Fair in the azure chambers of the east, 
 His raptured eyes beheld the radiant maid ; 
 The spangled constellations of the heavens, 
 Lost in surprise, astonishment, he viewed ; 
 " These are thy works, eternal Father ; thine 
 " Nature's great altar of unceasing praise, 
 " Raised m the temple of unbounded space ! 
 " Blest be that God who smiled upon my birth, 
 " Who sent a guardian angel from the sky 
 " To snatch me from the wreck, which tlireats the world, 
 " Amid these lone retreats, to range the stars, 
 " Those gems, that with unsullied lustre shine, 
 " To grace the crown of high Omnipotence." 
 He ceas'd ; his lips in faltering silence hung ; 
 But silence spoke, devotion was not dumb. 
 The tear of gratitude gush'd from his eye, 
 And the pure transport melted all his soul. 
 
 Hail, bright Philosophy, thy pages ne'er 
 Could boast a fairer dignity to man ! 
 
14 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Of morals pure, and of a heart sincere, 
 
 In liim the virtues, all resplendent, shone. 
 
 " Yon river," spoke the sage, " which foams along, 
 
 " Its waves perplexed, by craggy rocks enraged, 
 
 " Points to my eye the picture of the world, 
 
 " Whei'e care corrodes all happiness below. 
 
 " From the tumultuous scenes of worldly strife, 
 
 " Where pride's gay, tinsel train, in fashion's sun, 
 
 " Bask like the butterfly, a day to charm, 
 
 " To these green bowers, and rural groves I came, 
 
 " And sought retirement in her native shade. 
 
 " The heaven which mortals vainly seek below, 
 
 " In earthly gew-gaws, and in princely state, 
 
 " May here be found, if earth a heaven produce. 
 
 " By contemplation led, we walk on high ; 
 
 " And here by fond anticipation taste 
 
 " That bliss, which virtue shall hereafter crown. 
 
 " While Nature's laws direct the stariy world, 
 
 " And mortals think they're wise if skill'd in these, 
 
 " Let sages, more contemplative, unite, 
 
 " To adorn mankind, the virtues to display, 
 
 " Those stars, which glitter in the moral sky. 
 
 " The voice of Nature is the voice of praise ; 
 
 " Yon orbs but shine, our gratitude to raise." 
 
 He ceas'd ; for admiration then began. 
 And honoured with a tear the pride of man. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 15 
 
 SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF BOWDOIN. 
 
 "Pallida mors xquo pede pulsat pauperum tahernas, 
 " Regumque turres." Hon. 4th ode, 1st book. 
 
 Death's dread decrees must be obeyed ; 
 
 Grim king, inexorably just ! 
 That arm, which strikes the humble shed'i 
 
 Levels the palace with the dust. 
 
 {_WrittenFeb.^S,l7n.'\ 
 
 i ALE is the mournful eye of setting day ; 
 
 The gloomy fields in weeds of woe appear ; 
 O'er the dim lawn dread horror bends his way, 
 
 And solemn silence bids the mind revere. 
 
 Beneath thick glooms the distant landscape fades ; * 
 The sad moon weeps o'er yon funereal ground ; 
 
 Hark ! the dull rippling stream tlie ear invades ; 
 The soul, wild staring, startles at each sound ! 
 
 What ghastly phantoms round me seem to rise ! 
 
 With this just lecture on their tongues they come ; 
 In yonder spot Fame's great colossus lies ; 
 
 A BowDoiN moulders in the humble tomb !- 
 
 HoAV short the fleeting hour assigned to man ! 
 
 To Virtue's nobler charge the task is given, 
 Beyond the grave to extend the narrow span, 
 
 And gain a blest eternity in heaven. 
 
16 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Yes, 'tis a glorious truth, that man, refined 
 
 From all the impurities of sordid clay, 
 No more an exile on vile earth confined^ 
 
 Shall shine amid the stars of endless day. 
 
 Hark ! the sad voice of death, vi^ith solemn sound, 
 Calls from their distant caves the sleeping gales ! 
 
 The gales vi^ith sighs the avrful voice resound.,^ 
 And tears of grief bedew the echoing vales. 
 
 Across the fields see heavenly Virtue stray ; 
 
 Philosophy, dejected at her side, 
 And Love celestial bend their pensive vv^ay. 
 
 And give free vent to grief's impetuous tide ! 
 
 Mid the dai'k melancholy walks of death, 
 
 Towards a stately monument they rove ; 
 And hang on the tomb their votive wreath, 
 
 A wreath with mmgled honours fondly wove.* 
 
 From realms of pvirest happiness they flow. 
 
 To adorn the grave where their dear votary slept ; 
 
 The world they found suffused in tears of woe, 
 And feeling for its loss in pity wept. 
 
 Around the tomb the heavenly spirits stand, 
 
 In all the plaintive eloquence of grief; 1 
 
 " Here rest in peace, thou patriot of thy land, 
 
 " Sage of the world, and Virtue's darling cliief I" 
 
 '•' Let spring immortal o'er thy ashes bloom; 
 
 " To tliee let earth the laurelled wreath resign ; 
 " The ivy and the olive deck the tomb ; 
 
 " For valour, eloquence, and peace were thine I" 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 17 
 
 " Well may thy friends bedew thy hallowed urn, 
 
 " Ambition weep, despaii'ing of thy fame ; 
 " Well may thy comitry o'er thy relicks mourn, 
 
 " And wondering earth immortalize tliy name." 
 
 Weep o'er the grave, which Bowdoin's dust entombs ; 
 
 In him such splendid traits their charms unite. 
 Like the bright lamp, wliich heaven and earth illumes, 
 
 He shone the sun of pliilosopliick light ! * 
 
 In him the patriot virtues all combined j"* 
 In him was Freedom's voice divinely heard ; 
 
 Soft grace and energy adorned his mind, 
 And constellated excellence appeared. 
 
 How oft have senates on his accents hung. 
 
 And viewed the blended powers of genius meet, 
 
 In flowmg musick, melting from his tongue. 
 
 Strong, without rage, and without flatteiy, sweet.^ 
 
 When Massachusetts' patriot sages met,® 
 
 To snatch from fate their country's falling name, 
 
 His arm, like Jove's, upreared the sinkbig state, 
 And raised a pillar in the dome of fame. 
 
 His noble soul no selfish motive fired ; 
 
 His country's glory was his godlike aim ; 
 In danger prudent, resolute, admired ; 
 
 And every action but enhanced his fame. 
 
 Beneath his friendly wing the muses found 
 
 A father, smiling on their infant lyre ; 
 There Art and Science were with bovinty crowned, 
 
 And Learning owned a Bowdoin for her sire. 
 3 
 
18 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 In him rejoiced the sons of want and grief; 
 
 From Mm the streams of social friendship ran ; 
 With generous pity, and with kind relief, 
 
 He traversed life in doing good to man. 
 
 O'er life's broad sea he spread his full blown sail, 
 Secure amid wild faction's stormy roar ; 
 
 By wisdom guided, caught the flying gale, 
 And gained the port, eternal glory's shore. 
 
 Justly to celebrate his deathless praise, 
 
 No muse, like ours, can string her grateful lyre ; 
 
 -Nor even Pindar such bold notes could raise, 
 Nor to the sun on waxen wings aspire. 
 
 When in the field resistless Hector met. 
 
 To express he conquered, we but say he fought ; 
 
 Suffice it then the ear of fond regret. 
 
 To tell that Bowdoin always nobly thought. 
 
 Sprung from a race, to nought but virtue bom, 
 Advanced by industry to pomp and state ; 
 
 Yet he, beholding these with eyes of scorn. 
 Rose above fame, and dared be truly great. 
 
 Long have we hoped kind Temperance Avould wield, 
 To gvxard her favourite, her defensive arms ; 
 
 Around his honoured life would spread her shield, 
 And long secure him by its potent charms. 
 
 But, ah ! fallacious hopes ! Oh sweet deceit ! 
 
 Dear, flattering dream, which partial Fancy wrought 
 In Friendship's loom, who, witla fond pride elate ^ 
 
 Viewed the rich texture of illusive thought ! 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 19 
 
 Imperial Reason, weeping o'er his fate, ^ 
 
 Hurled from her empire, rules his breast no more. 
 
 Where is that voice, which saved a falling state, 
 
 Which charmed the world, and taught e'en foes t' adore ? 
 
 When wintiy time's tempestuous billows roar, 
 
 O'er the dark storm Death spreads his horrid wings 5 
 
 Swept are proud empires from the foaming shore. 
 And beggars mingle in one grave with kings. 
 
 Where are the splendours of the Attick dome ? 
 
 Where haughty Carthage, towering to the sky ? 
 Where the tall columns of imperial Rome ? 
 
 In the vile dust, where pride is doomed to lie. 
 
 BowDoiN, the glory and delight of all, 
 
 The prince of science, Misery's feeling friend, 
 
 Bedecked with blooming honours, too must fall, 
 And to the mansions of the grave descend. 
 
 Could human excellence, with power sublime. 
 Charm from barbarian Death's destructive hand 
 
 The ruthless scythe of all destroying Tune, 
 BowDoiN were still the senate of tlie land. 
 
 But greatly smiling in his latest breath, 
 
 Like Phoebus blazing from his western throne, 
 
 His soul, unconquered, through the clouds of death 
 More radiant beamed, and more divinely shone. 
 
 Ye mournful friends, suppress the bursting tear ; 
 
 BowDoiN is gone his native skies to claim : 
 Forgive the youth, who, weeping o'er his bier, 
 
 In this fond verse inscribes his sacred name. 
 
2© COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 'Know then thyself; presume not God to scan; 
 ' The proper study of mankind is mar." 
 
 Pope's Essay on Jffan, 
 
 \_Written March 23, 1791.] 
 
 JjLEST be the sage, whose voice has sung, 
 And to the world such covmsel given ! 
 
 Sure 'tis an angel's warning tongue, 
 The language of benignant Heaven ! 
 
 When first in Eden's roseate bowers, 
 Gay, youthful Nature held her throne, 
 
 Around her tripped the blithesome Hours, 
 And all the Loves and Graces shone.' 
 
 Celestial Virtue saw the dame, 
 
 Enthroned amid her joyful band. 
 And glowing with Aftection's flame. 
 
 He blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand.' 
 
 Struck with his tall, majestick form, 
 His rosy cheek, his sparkling eye, 
 
 Her breast received a strange alarm., 
 And unsuppressed, retui-ned the sigh. 
 
 At Hymen's shrine no vows are paid. 
 For mutual love their hearts unites ; 
 
 Carols were sung from every shade, 
 And Eden echoed with delights,® 
 
V 
 
 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 21 
 
 At length, their pleasures to complete, 
 
 Fair Happiness their amours blest ; 
 Gay was her form, her temper sweet. 
 
 And mildest charms adorned her breast ; 
 
 Mild as the bosom of the lake, 
 
 When Zephyr from tlie western cave * 
 Dares not the level chrystal break. 
 
 And breathes a perfume o'er the wave. 
 
 But joy on eagle pinions flies ; 
 
 Thus oft in June's resplendent morn, 
 When golden lustre paints the skies. 
 
 Thick lowering clouds the heavens deform J 
 
 Beneath the eaith's dark centre hurled, 
 
 Where on their grating hinges groan 
 The portals of the netlier world. 
 
 Apostate Vice had raised her throne. 
 
 A spirit of angelick birth ; 
 
 But blemished now with blackest stains, 
 Degraded far below the earth. 
 
 To realms, where endless darkness reigns. 
 
 Far from his ebon palace strayed 
 
 This fiend to earth with giant pace ; 
 His eyes a lurid frown displayed. 
 
 And horror darkened all his face. 
 
 Through Eden's shady scenes he roves ; 
 
 A sweetly warbling voice he hears ; 
 When, lo, beneath the distant groves, 
 
 Nature in sportive dance appears ! 
 
32 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 He saw, he gazed with rapture warm, 
 Resolved to gain the fair one's heart » 
 
 His haggard, foul, disgusting form, 
 He decks in all the charms of art 
 
 His face, o'erclouded late with gloom, 
 His limbs, in tattered garb arrayed, 
 
 Assumed the flush of youthful bloom, 
 The pomp of regal robes displayed. 
 
 Dazzling with gems, a crown he bore ; 
 
 'Twas grace his easy motions led ; 
 A gentle smile his features wore. 
 
 And round a sweet enchantment spread. 
 
 From his smooth tongue sweet poison flowed ; ** 
 Fair Innocence, her careless heart 
 
 Decoyed, forsook her native road, 
 Lost in the wilderness of art. 
 
 Sad tears and bosom-rending sighs 
 
 The mournful nymph pours forth in vain ; 
 
 Vain are the streams of Sorrow's eyes, 
 To wash away the ciimson stain. 
 
 Hopeless she wandered and forlorn, 
 In bitterest woe ; her plaintive tale 
 
 Was heard, the echo of the laton^"^ 
 And the sad ditty of each gale. 
 
 While thus she roved in deep disgrace, 
 Her bosom torn with conscious shame, 
 
 An infant from the foul embrace 
 Is born, and Misery is her name. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 23 
 
 Her eyes emit a haggard glare ; 
 
 Her mien a savage soul expressed 5 
 With grim Medusa's snaky hair ; 
 
 And all the father stood confessed. 
 
 The groves, which once, in green array, 
 The admiring eye attentive kept. 
 
 No more appeared in verdure gay ; 
 And Eden's fading beauties wept.^ 
 
 Pale was the sun, with clouds obscure ; 
 
 Wild Lamentation mourned in vain 
 To cleanse the soul, with guilt impure, 
 
 And reinstate the golden reign. 
 
 Beauty 's a flower of early doom, 
 Exposed to all the mtrigues of art ; 
 
 For when is lost its tender bloom. 
 The thorn is left, a bleeding heart. 
 
 Triumphant Vice to his drear courts 
 Returns to rule the infernal plains ; 
 
 There Misery witli her sire resorts, 
 To forge for man her torturing chains. 
 
 But Virtue, to redeem the earth. 
 In Eden opes his tranquil seats ; 
 
 Asylum safe of injured worth. 
 
 Here Happmess with him retreats I* 
 
 Virtue and Vice, with clashing sway, 
 The empire of the world divide ; 
 
 Vice oft deludes the feet astray, 
 But Virtue is the surest guide. 
 
24 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Vice, in whose form no grace is seen, 
 Assumes detested Flattery's guise ; 
 
 Veils in a smile her hideous mien, 
 And captivates weak mortal eyes. 
 
 While Viitue, in each beauty decked. 
 
 In spotless purity arrayed. 
 Our wandering footsteps would direct, 
 
 But blinded man disdains his aid. 
 
 Severe Experience soon will learn'' * 
 The stubborn bosom to repent ; 
 
 The opened eyes too late discern. 
 What they must then in vain lament. 
 
 But see a kind deliverer rise ! 
 
 Her feeling breast Compassion warms, 
 To purge this film from mortal eyes, 
 
 And strip delusion of its charms. 
 
 Behold Self-Knowledge quits the skies ! 
 
 Ithuriel's magick spear she bears ; 
 From her approach pale Error flies. 
 
 And all tlie mind's dark host appears.' * 
 
 Disrobed of all his borrowed plumes, 
 Gay Vice no more the eye allures ; 
 
 While Virtue's native lustre blooms, 
 And with its charms the soul secures. 
 
 The wreath of once triumphant Vice 
 Now withers on his languid head ; 
 
 No more his guiles the world entice. 
 For, with his fraud, his charms are fled. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 25 
 
 Ye, whose excursive souls pretend 
 
 The Almighty's boundless power to scan ; 
 
 Whose thoughts against the heavens contend. 
 Nor stoop to earth to think on man ; 
 
 Who, like the lion in his cave, 
 
 Or eagle on liis rocky height, 
 Witli swelling pride austerely grave, 
 
 Frown modest Virtue from your sight ; 
 
 Who proudly view with scornful eyes 
 
 The tender scenes of social love ; 
 Contemning Friendship's dearest ties ; 
 
 The imps of self-dependent Jove ; 
 
 Hear, learned fools : When life shall end, 
 
 Like the light cinders of a scroll, 
 Will stars or spheres from heaven descend, 
 
 To comfort your desponding soul ? 
 
 Virtue alone can smooth tlie brow . " 
 
 Of haggard Death with smiles of joy; 
 Persuasive lead the sons of woe 
 
 To pleasures, which can never cloy. 
 
 Be Virtue then by all caressed I 
 
 Virtue the glooms of life will cheer j 
 With eye impartial search thy breast, 
 
 While Virtue lends a listenins: ear. 
 
26 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 "Homo sura,; human! nihil a me alienum puto." 
 
 Terence, Heaut: 
 
 I am a man, and interested in all the concerns of humanity. 
 \_Written April 13, 1791.1 
 
 x E, who enjoy the bliss of social ease, 
 Who di-ink the sweets of Freedom's passing breeze, 
 Taught by your fortune, learn, with generous mind, 
 To soothe the woes, and feel for all mankind. 
 
 While Pride's imperial sons in splendour vie, 
 j^\nd with a meteor glare delude the eye ; 
 While bold Ambition copes for deathless fame, 
 That tinsel glitter of a glorious name ; 
 Behold the generous soul, who feels for man, 
 The great adherent to the Saviour's plan. 
 In the dark cell of languid woe appear. 
 And the sad heart with smiling bounty cheer ; 
 Or in the cruel dungeon's dreary shade. 
 Where stem Oppression fettered millions laid, 
 Hear his mild voice amid the lurid gloom. 
 Recall the fleeting spirit from the tomb ! 
 
 Sweet are the pleasures, that from love arise ; 
 Sweet the warm rapture, when, with eager eyes, 
 And swelling with the gairish hopes of youth. 
 Young genius springs to clasp a long sought trutli ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 But more extatick joys, those scenes impart, 
 When flowing from a warm and grateful heai't. 
 The sweet eulogiums of relieved distress 
 The generous heart with pleasing transport bless. 
 Hail, kind Philanthropy, thou friend of earth. 
 Creation's mildest, fairest, noblest birth ! 
 Bright are thy features, as the blush of even, 
 And more complacent than the smile of heaven. 
 Sweet is the musick, which thy voice distils, 
 As the soft murmurs of the purling rills ; 
 More gladly echoed through Misfortune's ear, 
 Than tlie blithe carols of the vernal year. 
 Benignant parent of the tear and sigh ! 
 Heaven-bom Benevolence, whose gracious eye, 
 By pity fired, the blandest smile bestows. 
 That cheers this gloomy scene of mortal woes. 
 
 When savage Nature her dominion kept, 
 And each mild Virtue in oblivion slept, 
 Then pale eyed Misery and Oppression rose, 
 And plunged mankind adown the abyss of woes. 
 Dire Rage and War around the nations strode. 
 And Havock grimly smiled o'er seas of blood. 
 The dearest ties of love were stained with gore, 
 And Peace and Friendship ruled the woiid no more. 
 
 The sprightly virgin in her tender bloomj 
 Torn from her lover's ai'ms, by cruel doom, 
 With tears of anguish, trickling from her eyes, 
 O'er his dear marble bids the cypress rise. 
 
38 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Stript of the solace of their aching heaits, 
 Those tender ties, which social love imparts. 
 See hoary sires, around the funeral bier, 
 In silent sorrow drop the mournful tear I 
 Brutal barbarians, with stem pride elate, 
 Tramplmg on every right of civil state ; 
 Traitors to every law of gracious Heaven, 
 By Nature's voice to all her children given ; 
 Unfeeling monsters, tyranny their creed. 
 Who never blushed bu^t at a virtuous deed. 
 With wanton fury kept the world in awe ; 
 Their sword was justice, and their nod was law= 
 
 But, to relieve the miseries of man. 
 Benevolence on earth her reign began. 
 Of heavenly birth the virgin goddess shone. 
 And all the virtues hovered romid her throne. 
 But scarce the precepts of her friendly tongue, 
 To hostile realms the sweets of peace had sung* 
 And strove with warm persuasion to control 
 The warring passions of each barbarous soul ; 
 When, lo, a monster from his Stygian cave 
 Laid the mild virgin in the silent grave. 
 'Twas Persecution, whose dread right hand bore 
 A flaming faulchion, wet with human gore. 
 Detested Bigotry, (oh foul disgrace !) 
 And blinded Ignorance, of monkish race. 
 To this blood-thirsty, hellish fiend gave birth, 
 Who with such miseries scourged the groaning earth. 
 Cursed be the bigot, whose religious light 
 Comes through the medium of a jaundiced sight I 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 29 
 
 Lo, Superstition fills the papal throne, 
 And guiltless victims at her footstool groan ! 
 Lo, Death proscribes each disbeliever's head ; 
 See, on the rock their toitured limbs are spread ; 
 Their strained nerves tremble to each mangling blow ; 
 Hark, the soul-piercing shrieks of dying woe ! 
 Stroke follows stroke until they move no more, 
 And streams of blood gush out from every pore= 
 
 Yet in the storm of this tempestuous time, 
 When Superstition fostered every ci-ime ; 
 When servile priests pronomiced with impious tongue, 
 Nor understood the jargon which they sung ; 
 When Romish bigots, who made nations bleed, 
 Knew not the letters, which composed their creed ; 
 E'en then, in Albion's soil, a glorious few. 
 To virtue's cause, to freedom's interest true, 
 With anxious toil presei'ved from total night 
 Mild toleration's feebly glimmering light. 
 But short, alas, her empire in the land, 
 Where factious nobles bear supreme command i 
 
 As the faint splendour of the solar beam, 
 When vapovirs intercept the golden stream, 
 Emits through thin, transparent clouds a blaze. 
 Which on some distant spire in triumph plays ; 
 But while the eye admires tlie partial ray, 
 The pale and watery lustre melts away ; 
 Thus transient, all the milder virtues fled, 
 And kind Compassion veiled her tender head, 
 Till true Religion, with that magick power, 
 Which bade old Ocean's billows cease to roar. 
 
30 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Benevolence raised fi'om her mouldering tomb, 
 And bade new laurels on her brow to bloom. 
 
 All hail, Columbia ; to thy western skies, 
 Where sacred Freedom's lofty temples rise, 
 The virgin goddess bends her azure flight, 
 On the fleet pinions of diffusive light ! 
 She comes, with love's fervescent rays t' illume 
 The vale of woe, and cheer its awful gloom ; 
 To snatch mankind from the cold arms of Death, 
 And reinspire with being's transient breath. 
 
 But, ah ! will ye, who fought in Freedom's cause, 
 To die in battle, or defend her laws ; 
 Will ye, when Fortune has your efforts crowned, 
 And deathless laurels round your temples bound ; 
 Will ye, such bold achievements now disgrace. 
 Nor grant your freedom to all human race ? 
 Shall the poor Africk blot your rising fame, 
 And sue for freedom with neglected claim ? 
 In the dark cell, where anguish turns with pain 
 His tortured limbs, indented with the chain, 
 ' See ^Ethiopia's sons, because the day 
 Upon their skin has glanced too warm a ray 
 From social joy, from their dear native land, 
 By Fraud's ungenerous ai'tifice trepaimed. 
 Far to the west o'er swelling surges borne, 
 In slavish toil a life of woe to mourn ! 
 Blush, blush, vile despots, who, for lucre's sake, 
 Through every natural bond of freedom break ! 
 Although with honour crowned, Columbia's name 
 May sound eternal through the trump of Fame ; 
 
, COLLEGE EXERCISES. 31 
 
 Though shouting millions her new system boast, 
 
 By Solons planned, t' unite her jarring host ; 
 
 Yet while the Africk clanks Oppression's chain. 
 
 And these unfeeling, brutal tyrants reign, 
 
 Though decked with all the splendid charms of state, 
 
 Her blemished character can ne'er be great. 
 
 Hail glorious xra, when the genial rays 
 Of mild Philanthropy in one broad blaze 
 Shall round the world benignant lustre dart, 
 And warm the haughty tyrant's frozen heart, 
 When Africk's millions shall to freedom rise, 
 And with loud rapture rend the yielding skies ; 
 Columbia's eagle then, Avith wings unfurled. 
 Shall shadow with its plumes the subject world. 
 
 The following lines are from a theme, partly in prose and partly in verse, ori 
 "Humaaum est errare." 
 
 [_JVritten .liigitst 24, 1791.] 
 
 V ICE lives coeval with the age of time, ' 
 
 A Syren form, enchantress half divine.* 
 
 Before yon sun, in youthful splendour clad. 
 
 Illumed with sportive beams the new-bom earth ; 
 
 Before the planets round their reverend sire 
 
 Through Heaven's wide plains performed their mystick dance 
 
 Even then among the sapphire thrones of God, 
 
 Skilled in Egyptian herbs ^id magick lore. 
 
i32 COLLEGE EXER«"lSfiS. 
 
 The nymph bewitching came ; her tuneful voice, 
 
 Sweet warbling, drew the thronging seraphs round ; 
 
 And while they seemed delighted with the song, 
 
 The artful traitress, with Circassian smile, 
 
 Gave the full bowl of poison to their lips ; 
 
 They quaffed ; and soon perceived its magick power 
 
 Invade, inveigle, and subdue their souls. 
 
 Thus by her perfidy betrayed, they fell 
 Down the dark dungeon of Almighty wrath, 
 Where flames sulphureous flash a livid glare, 
 And ravenous vultures on their vitals prey. 
 Which undiminished grow, nor aught consume j 
 Thus an eternity of years to groan, 
 Cursing in penal fire the treacherous wretch, 
 Who led their daring spirits to rebel. 
 
 When thus her power innumei'ous saints subdued, 
 To earth she came, and in the breast of man 
 Instilling poison sweet, and lawless wish 
 To rob the central tree of Paradise, 
 Drove him, an exile from the realms of joy. 
 O'er earth's wide plains, inhospitable wilds, 
 Where crags menace defiance to the sky; 
 Through forests, deepened with Carpathian gloom. 
 Where midnight deaths in secret ambush lie ; 
 O'er scenes like these, with Providence his guide. 
 He roamed unfriended, hopeless and forlorn ; 
 In contemplation sad of follies past ; 
 Lamenting oft, in bitterness of soul, 
 The fatal taste of the forbidden tree. 
 Without the embellishments and aid of art, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. , 3^ 
 
 The earth exhibited a dreary watete. 
 No lofty cities, then, with glittering spires 
 And massy walls of mountain rocks composed, 
 Reared their tall turrets, and witli Atlas vied, 
 Who should sustain the starry vault of heaven. 
 No rural hamlet, then, with peaceful shades, 
 And groves in verdure of perennial bloom> 
 Oft kissed with rapture by the sportive gale, 
 Courted the wretched traveller's weary feet 
 To the sweet blessings of a frugal board. 
 'Twas his to wander mid tenebrious wilds, 
 Where deeply grave, majestick Horror reigns ; 
 Where savage beasts so fiercely yell and roar, 
 That Sol, affrighted at the dismal sound, 
 Ne'er dared to dart withm the dreary scene 
 A single ray to dissipate the shade. 
 Such were the horrors of his vagrant path. 
 And such the woes, which disobedience brought ; 
 Through all his race the dire contagion ran ; 
 Disease and want and treachery filled the earth. 
 
 What rending grief must wound our parent's breast. 
 When erst from Paradise his feet were driven ; 
 What heart-felt torture must his bosom sting, 
 Then to reflect, that, for his fault alone, 
 Ages of ages of his sons unborn 
 Should suffer all the pangs of guilt and woe. 
 Hear the dire curse, which his own follies wrought. 
 And feel the lash of wrath, which he provoked. 
 
 Perhaps, elate on Fancy's daring wing, 
 ^or she with wretched mourners is a guest) 
 5 
 
34^ COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 He oft beheld on life's tempestuous tide^ 
 
 His offspring struggling with the adverse surge^ 
 
 Wrecked on adversity's Charybdian coast ; 
 
 Now borne aloft upon the swelling surge, 
 
 Now plunging headlong down the dark abyss, 
 
 Where boiling quicksands rave with madding foam. 
 
 And pour through parting waves their oozy surf ; 
 
 Where sea-green caves, like sepulchres appear, 
 
 To catch the spirit, fainting with fatigue. 
 
 While raging seas in mad rebellion rise. 
 
 And rocks and winds and bellowing oceans war ; 
 
 While daring surges lift their heads to heaven, 
 
 Loud thunders, bursting with tremendous roar, 
 
 Roll through tlie quaking sky their muttering wrath p 
 
 The hapless strugglers on the briny deep, 
 
 Each effort vain, and whelmed in dark despair, 
 
 Their eyes erect to heaven with languid look, 
 
 Upbraid the parent, author of their woes, 
 
 And, cursing Adam, sink to rise no more. 
 
 Such were perhaps the scenes, our common Sire 
 
 With self-accusing fancy sadly drew '^ 
 
 And with the bitterest grief, that mortals feel. 
 
 Bemoaned the deed irrevocably cursed. 
 
 Cease, tender parent, thy invective plaint ; 
 No more thy breast with lamentations wound ; 
 Oh, wipe the dark suspicion from thy soul, 
 That e'er thy race could with ungenerous voice 
 Pronounce a curse upon thy reverend head ! 
 Sooner shall Winter in his frigid arms 
 Embrace the blooming Spring, the type of heaven j- 
 Sooner the turtle, when the parent dove 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. .3^ 
 
 Has built her nest in insalubrious spot, 
 Oft ravaged by the fierce rapacious foe, 
 Forget the author of its tender life, 
 And cease to coo the haa'mless notes of love. 
 
 Long as the blue-waved seas, in lucid lapse, 
 Shall roll majestick through the cavemed earth ; 
 Long as the year shall blossom with the spring., 
 With summer ripen, and with autumn yield j 
 Long as the sun, tlie powerful king of day. 
 Shall ride triumphant in his car of light ; 
 Till Nature's self shall droop with hoary age, 
 And sleep, low mouldering, in her silent tomb, 
 Fonned of the mighty wrecks of falling worlds ; 
 Till then thy name shall pervagrate the earth, 
 Herald of Love, and monitor of Heaven- 
 
 These lines are wiAout date, but as they appear in the band Mr- Paine wrote* 
 at that time, they were, probably, produced in his junior year | perhapsj 
 however, as the manuscript is a fair and second copy, they are of earlier 
 (H-Jgin. 
 
 ON SENSIBILITY. 
 
 OPRiGHTLY and gay as lovt, as pure as truth. 
 The soul of beauty, and the pride of youth. 
 Demands my song ; while my infantine muse 
 On waving wing, the heaven-bom theme pursues. 
 
35 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 No tuneful choir, who haunt Pieria's shade. 
 Do I invoke to lend their sacred aid ; 
 My muse would beg alone Maria's smile, 
 To inspire her numbers and reward her toil, 
 And proud I'll feel, if Mary's hand bestow 
 Her favourite myrtle on my honoured brow. 
 
 When first mankind obeyed tyrannick sAvay, 
 The softer virtues in oblivion lay ; 
 Then pale Affliction with her iron rod, 
 And Carnage dire around the nations strode. 
 Man sunk to vile debasement's lowest grade, 
 And lived " with beasts joint tenants of the shade.'* 
 That fond endearing love which Nature formed, 
 Which once each breast to social friendship warmed, 
 Which once to generous deeds the world inspired, 
 To deeds which listening ages have admired. 
 No more prevailed, but lust, reveiige and ire, 
 With brutal fury set the world on fire. 
 Tyrants and kings their lawless empire spread, 
 And from the sanguine earth the Virtues fled, 
 Though whelmed in woe and misery severe. 
 Such as e'en Nero must have wept to hear ; 
 Though torn from all the objects of their love, 
 By dread seclusion, by a long remove ; 
 Yet such was man's degenerate groveling state, 
 He added torture to the wounds of fate. 
 The generous fervour of the social flame 
 Was now unknown, or only known in name. 
 Pale-^eyed Despair now raised her ebon throne? 
 A^nd pity kaev/ no sorrows but her mm<. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Without a friend to calm his throbbing heart, 
 And from his breast to wrench Misfortune's davt^ 
 Each in himself beheld his last resort, 
 Too weak, too frail his sorrow to support ; 
 No generous tear bemoaned another's grief, 
 No friendly sympathy bestowed relief; 
 Tyrants beheld their easy victims fall, 
 And one wide common grave threat death to all. 
 But, to relieve the miseries of man, 
 .Sweet Sensibility her reign began ; 
 Beneath the mildness of her gentle reign. 
 The smiling virtues blessed the earth again ; 
 Candour and Friendship, sweet ethereal pair, 
 Dispelled the lurid clouds of dark despair ; 
 Those realms, which in tlie shades of darkness lay, 
 Shut from the light of learning's splendid day, 
 Or in the vale of misery, distressed 
 With every woe, that grieves a mortal breast, 
 With heart-felt joy perceived Compassion near, 
 From Sorrow's eye to wipe her bursting tear, 
 And mid the dungeon's insalubrious gloom, 
 Beheld the rose of consolation bloom. 
 Sweet Sensibility, pure is thy sway, 
 As the clear splendours of Hesperian day ; 
 Bright is thy form, as when the clouds of even, 
 Enchase with flaming gold tlic azure heaven ; 
 Soft is thy bosom, as the silver waves. 
 When gentle zephyrs, from their western caves, 
 Breathe a mild perfume o'er the rippling stream, 
 Which smiles effulgent in the solar beam. 
 Prompt is this breast, the wretched to release. 
 To allay his suffering with the voice of peace j 
 
38 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 'thy love unbounded, as the boundless day, 
 
 Glows with the warmth of summer's noontide ray ; 
 
 From thy kind tongue the sweetest honey flows, 
 
 To soothe the anguish of our bitterest woes. 
 
 When the dread king of terrors' ruthless dart,. 
 
 Arrests a fond companion's bleeding heart, 
 
 And rifles youth of all his vernal bloom, 
 
 And lays the aged in the mouldermg tomb ; 
 
 When weeping virgins mourn a tender mate, 
 
 The hapless victim of a cruel fate ; 
 
 When youthful lovers o'er their fair one's grave, 
 
 The funeral turf with briny sorrows lave ; 
 
 When Hope no longer cheers their streaming eyesy, 
 
 And drear despair's impervious clouds axise ; 
 
 Then, Sensibility, thy poAver is known. 
 
 Thou never leav'st the wretch to weep alone. 
 
 With mild Persuasion's gently pleasing strain, 
 
 You love to ease his bosom-rending pain, 
 
 And, while the mourner lends a patient ear, 
 
 You answer sigh for sigh, and tear for tear ; 
 
 Till, by the magick sympathy of woe. 
 
 His wounds are healed, his sorrows cease to flow ! 
 
 Hail, Sensibility ! thou soul of love, 
 
 'Tis thine the various scenes of bliss to prove ; 
 
 The tear, we shed upon another's grief,| 
 
 The woes, we suffer for our friend's relief, 
 
 Afford more pleasure to the feeling heart, 
 
 Than all the pomp and pride of wealth impart ! 
 
 The silken sons of luxury and ease, 
 
 With vain magmficence, the crowd may please ; 
 
 The chief, victorious, quits the embattled ground, 
 
 The blood-stained laurels round his temples bound j 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 59 
 
 The marble bust may tell to future age, 
 
 Some glorious villain on the present stage I 
 
 But what are riches, but an empty name ? 
 
 And what is glory, but the toy of fame ? 
 
 What is the mighty laurel, gained in fight ? 
 
 To this the private murderer has a right 
 
 Envy, the brightest character may rust ; 
 
 The loftiest monuments are laid in dust,; 
 
 Lo, brazen statues moulder and decay, 
 
 And hoary Time sweeps all the world away ! 
 
 Then, where is glory, where the proud and great? 
 
 Where is the tyrant with his pomp and state ? 
 
 Beggars and kings are destined to one grave ; 
 
 Death deals alike to monarch and to slave. 
 
 Then learn, O man, to traverse out the year 
 
 Of fleeting life, which Heaven has lent thee here. 
 
 Be prompt to offer, with a kind relief. 
 
 The friendly pillow for the sons of grief. 
 
 Let feeling sympathy for every woe, 
 
 Which groaning mortals suffer here below, 
 
 Let Sensibility with heavenly fire. 
 
 With generous charity, thy soul inspire j 
 
 That, when pale Death this dreary scene shall ciosc; 
 
 Millions may shout thee from this world of Avoes. 
 
 This is the noblest monument of praise. 
 
 Which human excellence on earth can raise ; 
 
 This is the trophy, which with power sublime 
 
 Shall baffle all the wrath of hoary time. 
 
 But why, my muse, dost thou with daring whig? 
 
 Attempt so great, so bold a theme to sing ? 
 
 Lo ! in Amelia's breast the charms you tell 
 
 In sweet complacence and perfection dwell i 
 
40 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Maria, too, the feeling throb has known ; 
 There Sensibility erects her throne. 
 Though beauty deck the fair external form 
 With all the elegance of every charm ; 
 Though sense and virtue in the soul combine, 
 And like the stars in bright resplendence shine 
 If Sensibility, that lovely guest, 
 Should prove a stranger to the virgin breast, 
 Beauty and sense and virtue must appear 
 But sounding names, which only fops revere ; 
 Like some fair image, which the mimick strife 
 Of Sculpture's hand has made resembling life, 
 Which wants that nervous vigour to acquire, 
 That spreads through every limb the vital fire j 
 But Sensibility, the queen of grace, 
 Soft, as Amelia's sweetly blooming face, 
 From every stain the heavy soul refines, 
 And with a smile in every feature shines ; 
 To every charm a milder beauty lends, 
 The fairest form with fairer tints amends; 
 A gentle mildness to the bi'east imparts, 
 Attracts, enchants and captivates our hearts j 
 Sprightly and gay as love, as pure as truth, 
 The soul of beauty, and the pride of youth.. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 41 
 
 A PASTORAL« 
 
 l_Wntten Jlpril 10, 1790.] 
 
 X HE shades of night with sleep had fled away ; 
 
 Heaven's rising scale now flamed with new-born day ; 
 
 Now fragrant roses plumed the crest of dawn, 
 
 And tears of joy arrayed the smiling lawn ; 
 
 The early villagers had left their beds, 
 
 And with their flocks had whitened all the ?neads. 
 
 Beneath the emboweruig covert of a grove, 
 Whose blooining bosom courts the smiles of love, 
 Melodious songsters tuned their warbling strains. 
 And charmed the satyrs and admiring swains. 
 So soft their notes, that Echo silent hung, 
 And Zephyr ceased to breathe, to hear the sonff ; 
 Shepherds, to join the tuneful war, forsook 
 Their native shade and left tlieir peaceful crook ; 
 The choral song awaked each rising day. 
 And larks forgot to sing their matin lay. 
 
 Long had young Corydon, outvied by none. 
 The ivy wreath from all his rivals won ; 
 Till, from a mountain's side, whose lofty brow 
 Whitens with pride, and spurns the plams below. 
 Young Damon, versed in polished numbers, catne, 
 And claimed the laurel of Aoniain fame, 
 6 
 
42 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 No sooner morn had cheered the skies with light, 
 And modest fields blushed from the embrace of night, 
 Than Corydon and Damon sung their loves, 
 And the sweet notes breathed softly through the groves, 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Hark ! hqjv the birds from every blossom sing, 
 ■^ And early linnets hail the purple spring I 
 Melodious notes ascend from every spray, 
 And vocal forests wake the dawning day ; 
 Spring trips the meads, and opes the sky serene, 
 And gentle breezes cool the pleasing scene. 
 When one soft chorus purls from crystal streams, 
 Tunes Nature's harp and murmurs joyful hymns ; 
 Why sit we idle, when all nature's gay. 
 And lively Fancy gilds the morning ray ? 
 
 CORYDON. 
 
 Our flocks together graze the flowery plain j 
 Sing then, while I attentive hear the strain : 
 But let no mournful song your voice employ ; 
 Spring's florid pencil paints no scenes but joy= 
 No stake I offer, for a bribe can fire 
 No minds, but such as vulgar thoughts inspire. 
 Begin the song, for now the crocus glows. 
 And toiling bees explore the flagrant rose. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Ye Mantuan daughters, leave your cooling shades. 
 Where lavish Science all her flowerets spreads } 
 Come with your needed aid, inspire my lays. 
 And fill the grove with fair Myrtilla's praise. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 43 
 
 CORYBON. 
 
 Come then, great Worth, and teach me how to glow. 
 And with thy sweetness teach my verse to flow. 
 Come, my Constantia, and inspire my lays, 
 For thou alone sing'st equal to thy praise. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 Ye vernal gales, who fanned the ambrosial grove. 
 Where first Myrtilla crowned my sighs with love. 
 On your soft wings let Damon's numbers float ; 
 Ye feathered songsters, swell the echoing note ; 
 Trees, whisper praises, and ye meads, look gay, 
 For fair Myitilla warms the amorous lay. 
 When flaming Sirius robed ApoUos' brov/, 
 With fiercer heat and scorched the world below, 
 I saw the fair one, rambling o'er the meads ; 
 The drooping v/illows reared their mournful heads. 
 The fainting birds again began to sing. 
 And smiling Nature fondly thought 'twas spring. 
 Not chaste Dictinna with her silver train 
 Appeared so graceful, or could cause such pain. 
 With eyes and feet averse she fled the green, 
 A>nd turned to see if she had fled unseen. 
 
 CORYDON. 
 
 Here Spring's gay lap once poured forth all its stores-, 
 
 And Joy's soft breezes winged the rolling hours. 
 
 The brightening landscapes swelled with teeming graifi. 
 
 And smiling Ceres plumed the floating plain. 
 
 But now no more these rural scenes delight. 
 
 Nor flowery prospects glad our raptured sight. 
 
44 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Constantia's gone ; Spring paints the blooming meads^^ 
 But to confess, how she, without her, Jades. 
 The noisy town attracts the fair one's eye, 
 To seek the pleasures of a milder sky. 
 Then droop, ye flowerets, for Constantia's gone, 
 And joy no more shall glitter on the thorn. 
 The bees may well forget their waxen store, 
 And beauteous nature smile in spring no more. 
 No more Arabian gales their odours shed. 
 Beauty and sweetness with Constantia's fled. 
 Elegiack ditties chant o'er Spring's sad urn, 
 -" And Philomel shall teach the woods to mourn. 
 The eve comes on, in solemn brown arrayed, 
 And weeps in dews that fair Constantia's /led. 
 Nectarean streams the oak forgets to yield. 
 And lurking tares o'errun the uncultured field. 
 The gales are taught to sigh ; the waving reed 
 Trembles the ditty to the mournful mead. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 The Muses haunt Parnassus' cooling groves, 
 And blooming Paphos courts the smiles and loves ; 
 But if Myrtilla shall prefer the plain, 
 Here Venus smiles, and here the Muses reign, 
 
 eoRYDaN. 
 In spring the open lawn delights the eye, 
 And cooling groves, Avhen Sirius fires the sky ; 
 When Autumn purples o'er the fruitful field. 
 To pluck the fruits which trees luxuriant yield ; 
 But in my heart one constant passion glows ; 
 My love-sick breast none but Constantia knows- 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 45 
 
 Come, visit then, my fair, the enamelled mead ; 
 
 For thee the myrtle weaves its friendly shade. 
 
 Here crystal streams meander through the grove, 
 
 And every zephyr wafts the strains of love. 
 
 Come, lovely maid, more beauteous, than the mom, 
 
 And with your smiles these sylvan scenes adorn. 
 
 Though spring's return hath damasked o'er the field, 
 
 And in the rose her gayest plumes revealed, 
 
 Nature, to gain her own, must speak your praise, 
 
 She in your blush a fairer rose displays. 
 
 Come, my Constantia, leave the busy town, 
 
 And teach another Eden here to bloom. 
 
 To thee the feathered choir devote their lays. 
 
 And warble lavish musick in your praise. 
 
 When with your lyre you swell melodious songs, 
 
 E'en Orpheus owns to thee the wreath belongs. 
 
 The wolf shall fawn at thy soft tale of love, 
 
 And amorous trees shall crowd into a grove. 
 
 At thy return, the rose shall bloom again, 
 
 And breathe new fragrance o'er the joyful plain. 
 
 Autumn's rich cup shall pour its blissful stream. 
 
 And joy's bright nectar overlook the brim. 
 
 But, hark ! yon hills resound a pleasing theme. 
 
 And frisking lambkins gambol to the hymn. 
 
 In vain, ye gales, that cool meridian heats, 
 
 Ye stx'ive to liide from whence you stole your sweets. 
 
 Constantia comes ; at that revered name, 
 
 Tygers forget to rage, and wolves groAV tame. 
 
 DAMON. 
 
 To you the palm I yield ; yours be the praise, 
 For 'tis Constantia, shines throughout your lav^i. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 Hail, queen of Muses ! now the tuneful Nine 
 Shall court thy smile, and in your praise combine. 
 But, hark ! the plains the pleasmg name resound ; 
 Constantia's come, tunes all the vocal ground, 
 While' her bright charms such joyful smiles difFuSC, 
 To speak her worth, let silence hush the muse. 
 To give the fair her meritorious praise. 
 Numbers would fail, and sound itself must cease 
 
 These verses make the conclusion of a forensiek disputation in the chapel at 
 Cambridge University, on the qtiestion, " Whetlier learning be conducive to 
 the happiness of man." The manuscript shows no date, but the hand writing 
 and the nature of the exercise refer the lines to his junior or senior year. 
 
 J. HE unweeting swain, while Nature round him spreads? 
 
 Her rich luxuriance o'er the fertile meads, 
 
 By custom forced, assumes his native plough. 
 
 And feels no pleasures, but from labour flow. 
 
 But where proud Learning pours her golden blaze. 
 
 The curioits eye the wondrous world surveys j 
 
 Sees thousand beauties pairit the cheek of day, 
 
 And all Elysium glitter from a spray ; 
 
 Sees craggy mountains rear their daring throne, 
 
 While suppliant vales the sovereign monarch own. 
 
 While gay confusion decks the varying scene. 
 
 What floods of glory burst from Heaven's bright mien. 
 
 What glittering gems adorn the crown of night ; 
 
 The mind is lost in regions of delight ! 
 
 Here rolls majestick, Dian's silver car ; 
 
 Here heaven stooped down to embrace her brightest -star^ 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 47 
 
 When Newton rose, sublimely great, from earth, 
 And boldly spoke whole systems mto birth. 
 Around the walls of heaven the planets roll, 
 And her resplendent pavements gild the pole. 
 Behold the son of wisdom joyful rise, 
 And wing his native element the skies ; 
 See him, rejoicing, leave this mean abode, 
 And lost in rapture 'mid -the thrones of God, 
 Unnumbered pleasures swell his heaving breast ; 
 Words are too feeble, silence speaks the rest ! 
 
 THE REFINEMEN.T OF MANNERS 
 
 PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 
 
 An Exhibition Poem, delivered in the chapel of Harvard LTniversity, Sep- 
 tember 27, 1791. 
 
 The natural world, by Heaven's stupendous plan, 
 
 Is formed an emblem of the life of man. 
 
 Vain is the wish, that Spring's Favonian reign. 
 
 With Autumn's golden stores, should ci'ovni the plain : 
 
 And vain the hope, in life's first dawn, to find 
 
 Those nerves of thought, that grace the ripened mind. 
 
 Nature, too proud in one poor garb to appear. 
 
 Varies her livery with the varying year. 
 
 Her laws, unchanged by Time's insidious power, 
 
 Wnravel centuries or revolve an hour ; 
 
48 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Her stated order, to the seasons given, 
 Rolls round with equal ease the stars of heaven. 
 Clothed from the wardrobe, blooms the roseate spring, 
 And warbling birds and harmless poets sing. 
 Prompted by her, the Muse, with doating eyes, 
 Beholds her callow plumes, and pants to rise ; 
 With half-formed hopes, and fears ne'er felt before, 
 She spreads her fluttei-ing wings, but di'eads to soar. 
 , But while old Autumn, on the fertile plain, 
 Totters and groans beneath the weight of grain ; 
 While grateful peasants reap the bearded ear, 
 And golden Plenty crowns the fading year j 
 While Harvard's sons, whom Fame with smiles surveys. 
 Throng to the harvest of their well-earned praise ; 
 May not the Muse, ambitious of a name. 
 Put in her sickle for one " sheaf" of fame ? 
 
 Far from Pieria's sacred stream remote. 
 On half-strung lyre, she tunes her lisping note ; 
 The rise of manners from their fount to trace, 
 From savage life, transformed, to social grace ; 
 Till the rough diamond of the human mind, 
 By care assiduous, and by skill refined, 
 > From all the blemish of its native stone, 
 In varied beams of polished brilliance shone. 
 This be her theme, and should her numbers fail. 
 So great a theme will prove a friendly veil. 
 
 The mind of man by gradual rise improves ; 
 Ambition's noblest spring his bosom moves. 
 This prompts the soul with ardour to excel, 
 In thinking rightly or in acting well ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 49 
 
 But when dark clouds the savage mmd o'erspread, 
 Refinement droops, and Friendship's self is dead. 
 No more bright Reason in her zenith shines ; 
 Down to the west the mental sun declines ; 
 And sunk to vile debasement's lowest grade, 
 Man lives " with beast, joint tenant of the shade." 
 
 Created life was formed for some great end ; 
 A centre must be, where its motions tend. 
 As high as heaven its azure arch sustains. 
 Deep as the gloom, where dreary Chaos reigns, 
 Sublimely awful, and immensely great. 
 Is raised the firm, perennial wall of fate ; 
 On the dark frontiers of creation laid, 
 Where boundless space extends a rayless shade. 
 Here Time's destroying arm in vain has strove, 
 The mighty fabrick from its base to move ; 
 Here angels too, rebellious sons of light. 
 Once rose in arms to raze the bounds of night ; 
 The solid rock resists their raging power, 
 The battering Aries, and the thundering ore ; 
 Against the wall their harmless weapons break ; 
 What God has raised, not earth and heaven can shake. 
 
 Two mighty barriers bound this transient span, 
 Barriers, too lofty for the stride of man ; 
 Lucina here, sits smiling at his birth, 
 There Death, triumphant o'er the bleeding earth. 
 Lo ! on the cradle's down the infant sleeps ; 
 Lo ! on its urn the tender parent weeps ! 
 No human force can brave the assaults of age ; 
 No strength of mind can shield the hoary sage ; 
 7 
 
^0 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 The world is swept by time's impetuous wave. 
 And man floats downward to the common grave^ 
 
 To fill this fleetmg hour, this narrow space, 
 With actions, worthy an immortal race ; 
 To teach the rapid moments, as they fly, 
 Beyond the utmost ken of mortal eye. 
 To assume the smile of Virtue's placid mien ; 
 With social pleasures sweeten every scene ; 
 , To form the manners, quell proud War's alarms, 
 And, wide extendmg Friendship's open arms, 
 With generous love to clasp in one embrace 
 The mighty household of the human race ; 
 This is the task, the pleasing task of man ; 
 The great perfection of Jehovah's plan ; 
 Tliis is the gate to Paradise below, 
 A safe asylum from each mortal woe. 
 
 Morals, like ore extracted from the mine, 
 Though crude at first, by ait are taught to shine. 
 These to a nation a complexion give. 
 With these republicks fall, with these they live. 
 Nations with these in civil power increase. 
 In strength of war and all the sweets of peace. 
 To these the softer arts their polish owe. 
 From this vast fount the streams of science flow. 
 Here law and justice mutual sources find. 
 And hence the virtues, that adorn mankind. 
 
 But statesmen still o'erlook this mighty cause, 
 .And modern Dracos trump their penal laws ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 51 
 
 With lordly edicts rule a groaning state, 
 
 And trust that laws will humble souls create ; 
 
 And, lest old Time should spy such gross defects, 
 
 Inverting nature, causes name effects. 
 
 When souls depraved the curule chair obtain, 
 
 And through the realm, the same great evils reign, 
 
 Can feeble laws the publick heart reform, 
 
 Exalt the morals and avert the storm ? 
 
 Behold on high the amber tide of day, 
 
 Which rolls refulgent from the solar ray ; 
 
 Rivers from springs, and seas from rivers flow ; 
 
 From humble shrubs majestick forests grow ; 
 
 The rising manners of an infant state 
 
 Will be the parent of its future fate. 
 
 These, like the living current of the heart, 
 
 Through every breast their vital influence dart ; 
 
 Brace every nerve and man the dauntless soul. 
 
 Preserve each member and support the whole. 
 
 But when dread Vice, with her infectious stains, 
 
 Pollutes the blood, that warms the publick veins, 
 
 Corrosive poisons through the vitals roll. 
 
 Impair their vigour, and corrupt the soul. 
 
 Vice clogs the channels of the sanguine tide ; 
 
 Virtue refines and bids the currents glide ; 
 
 These arm with strength, or shrink the trembling nerve. 
 
 Destroy the body, or in health preserve. 
 
 Years have on years, on ages ages rolled. 
 But each new sun the same great truth has told ; 
 That morals still a nation's fate comprise, 
 Smk to the earth, or lift it to the skies ; 
 
52 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 These swell the page experience has unfurled, 
 Exalt a throne, or crush a falling world ; 
 Then hear, O Earth ; with shouts applausive own 
 The voice of Time, through History's clarion blown ! 
 
 When savage Nature her dominion kept, 
 And each mild Virtue in oblivion slept ; 
 To scourge mankind a group of monsters rose, 
 And headlong plunged them down the abyss of woes. 
 Through barbarous hordes, dire War and Horror strode, 
 And Havock grimly smiled o'er seas of blood. 
 The dearest scenes of love were stained with gore, 
 And Peace and Friendship ruled the world no more. 
 
 Ferocious clans, whom natural wants provoke, 
 Whose necks ne'er groaned beneath a galling yoke. 
 Armed for the horrors of inhuman strife, 
 Aim the deep wound, and plunge the deadly knife. 
 Winged by the sweeping gale, their feet resound, 
 And scarcely print a vestige on the ground ; 
 The dews, that glisten on the spiry grass, 
 Forget their dread, nor tremble as they pass ; 
 Heaven's rapid steeds, the mighty winds submit, 
 And own the swifter motions of their feet. 
 Not with such fury drives the rattling hail, 
 As when these weapons fill the sounding gale ; 
 O'er floods, o'er hills, their savage vengeance flies, 
 Like ocean storms, and lightens like the skies. 
 No fear of death their dauntless souls deplore ; 
 Death is a friend when glory is no more. 
 Their thundering arms in victory's dazzling car^ 
 Waged with the world a predatory war ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 53 
 
 And, with whole rivers of fraternal gore, 
 Swelled ocean's waves to heights unknown before. 
 They followed conquest, where their sachems led, 
 And clinmbed to fanae o'er mountains of the dead. 
 
 Still rose unfelled the forest's towering oak ; 
 The plough was then unknown ; miknown the yoke. 
 The soil uncultured gave no harvest birth ; 
 Unlocked remained the granary of tlie earth. 
 
 The human soul, in this unpolished state, 
 Lay all benighted in the clouds of fate. 
 Unskilled in useful and instructive art, 
 A blinded frenzy raved in every heart. 
 No friendly scene then charmed the smiling eye ; 
 No heart exulted in the social tie. 
 By wants surrounded, and to slaughter driven. 
 Lost was each semblance of the parent heaven. 
 Compared to man m this ferocious age. 
 Enthralled in darkness and unbridled rage, 
 Tygers no more a savage nature claim. 
 And howling wolves in all their wrath are tame ; 
 E'en the fierce lion in his horrid den 
 Seemed a civilian to the monsters, men. 
 
 Such were the scenes, which savage ages saAv, 
 When brutal frenzy waged fraternal war ; 
 Nor modem days from these exemption claim ; 
 Oh ! Europe, blush, for thou hast seen the same ! 
 
 Where sullen Russia's frownmg turrets rise, 
 Bare to the fury of the northern skies, 
 
54 ^ COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Suspicion, Cruelty, Revenge resort, 
 The privy council of a tyrant's court. 
 At their dread bar a guiltless virgin led, 
 Fell on the shrine, whei^e many a saint had bled; 
 Mild, as the evening, as the noon day, bright, 
 Pure and unblemished, as the stars of light. 
 The primrose, blushing on the fragrant heath, 
 Appeared a poppy to her sweeter breath ; 
 The lily's self was blackness to her skin, 
 It shone reflected from her soul within. 
 While the full tear hung glistening in her eye, 
 ♦The tyrant's voice decreed her fate, — to die ! 
 Death at the sound his savage office cursed, 
 And scarce had heart to execute his trust, 
 
 Lo ! now the virgin to the scaffold led, 
 A sweet complacence o'er her features spread 1 
 The mmisters of death, though old in blood, 
 Lost in surprise, in silent wonder, stood ; 
 While she, too fair, too pure for Slander's breatli, 
 Serenely smiled, and hailed the approach of death. 
 The moment came ; on Fate's slow wheel it run ; 
 Time saw, and dropped a tear, and rolled it on ! 
 The moment came, and Death's barbarian crew 
 The snow-white mantle from her bosom dreM^ 
 Pale Fear with many a throb her bosom swelled, 
 And Hope, our last, our dearest friend, repelled. 
 Her cheek, v/hich once of Parian marble shone, 
 Formed of the lily, and the rose full blown, 
 J^ow seemed a morning sky, with blushes spread., 
 Where trickling tears a glistening radiance shed ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 55 
 
 While Modesty averts her bashful eye ; 
 
 The sight would tempt an angel from tlie sky. 
 
 Now to the post her tender wrists are bound ; 
 With cruel chains her body lashed around. 
 Her tears, her shrieks no hardened breast inspired ; 
 No bosom throbbed ; and Pity's self expired. 
 
 " I die," the virgin cries, " without a stam ; 
 " Guiltless I die, by dark injustice slain 1" 
 
 Stung to the quick, lo ! brutal Torture raves > 
 With foaming rage her ii'on cordage waves ! 
 Her vengeful arm the horrid knout displays. 
 And, as exposed the virgin's bosom lays. 
 With mangling blows provokes the spouting gore, 
 While tears unseen, and shrieks unheard deplore ; 
 Redoubled strokes the quivering members tear, 
 Strip off the flesh, and lay the vitals bare ! 
 Ye Heavens I why sleeps the thunder in the sky ? 
 Speak but the word. Barbarity shall die ! 
 Being's great wheel revolves, and now deranged, 
 Lo ! man and brute their rank have interchanged 1 
 A sight so moving, bids no pangs arise 
 In man's hard breast ; he views with smiling eyes ; 
 While savage beasts in sympathy appear, 
 And roll in silent grief the gushing tear. 
 Rocks strive in vain their pity to conceal, 
 And, spite of nature, leam for once to feeL 
 E'en Heaven itself, when it from liigh beheld 
 ^A nymph, whose form her soul alone excelled. 
 
S6 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Bear all the pangs, that Torture could bestow, 
 Dropped down a gracious tear to end her woe ; 
 The tear descended from the world above, 
 From that pure region of eternal love, 
 Down to the blood-stained page of mortal life, 
 Where glared in crimson hate, revenge, and strife. 
 Wept, as it fell, the loss of virtuous shame, 
 And blotted from the scroll the virgin's name ! 
 
 ' In this drear age, which ignorance o'erspread, 
 
 When Frenzy reared her snake-encircled head, 
 
 Mankind long grovelled in their native dust ; 
 
 On their dark minds no glimpse of reason burst. 
 
 A gloomy film was spread o'er mortal eyes, 
 
 Like tlie tliick veil, which shrouds the spangled skies, 
 
 When, dimly seen, the wandering fires of night 
 
 Through heaven's dark glass emit a wateiy light. 
 
 The earth, enveloped in the impervious gloom. 
 
 Appeared a dismal, solitary tomb, 
 
 Cimmerian Dulness seized the throne of Jove, 
 
 Convened her clouds, and thronged the vault above ; 
 
 Till daring Genius burst surrounding night. 
 
 And shone the day-star of returning light ; 
 
 Till Reason's sun in eastern clime appeared, 
 
 From heaven's blue arch the shroudmg vapours cleared, 
 
 With plastick heat the soul of man illumed. 
 
 And all the mental world in verdure bloomed. 
 
 / Ages of darkness now had rolled away, 
 Ere man, awakening, hailed the dawn of day ; 
 E'er heaven-descended, soul-refining grace 
 Shone in the cradle of the human race. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. SJ 
 
 In ^gypt first her youthful charms were seen. 
 To sport with rusticks on the Memnian green. 
 Here first her social powers on earth began, 
 To polish savages, and form the man ; 
 Here first for use, and here for pleasure sought, 
 The vai'ious sources of instrvictive thought. 
 
 Here Agriculture claims her glorious birth ; 
 Here first the ploughshare turned the furrowed earth ; 
 Here bounteous Plenty beamed her infant smile ; 
 And here immerged beneath the pregnant Nile 
 Her " cornu copise," till it held no more, 
 And poured luxuriance round the ^Egyptian shore. 
 The hardy swains with joyful hearts appear, 
 To reap the bounties of the fruitful year. 
 While waving crowns old Autumn's brows entwine^, 
 The golden orange and the blushing vine. 
 
 Such are the blessings of indulgent skies. 
 When heaven in dews the thirsty glebe supplies ; 
 When cultured furrows swell the implanted grain, 
 And vegetation crowns the gladsome plain. 
 From latent seeds the wealthiest harvests rise ; 
 The sun must dawn, before he lights the skies. 
 Industrious virtue constant bliss enjoys ; 
 For labour recreates^ when leisure cloys. 
 
 Hail, Ceres ! second parent of mankind ! 
 Hail, great restorer of the human mind ! 
 In fame's bright record be enrolled tliy birth. 
 The era of regenerated earth I 
 8 
 
58 COLLEGPi EXERCISES, 
 
 Thy arm the tyrant from his throne has hurled, 
 And roused from slumber the lethargick world ; 
 Thy hand broke off the shackles of control, 
 And gave new freedom to the h-nprisoned soul. 
 To thee the Arts their first existence owe, 
 And Commerce owns, from thee her sources flow. 
 Thy voice decreed ; in heaven the voice was heard, 
 And sky-born Virtue on the earth appeared. 
 Thou bad'st the sightless mind of man to see, 
 And human nature seems renewed by thee ! 
 
 Where auburn Ceres o'er the waving plain 
 Rolls her light car, and spreads her golden reign ; 
 The swains industrious, and inured to toil, 
 Inclement Sirius, and the rugged soil. 
 With hope's fond dreams their swift-winged hours beguile, 
 And view in spring the embryo harvest smile ; 
 Far from the cai*es, that gorgeous courts molest, 
 And all the thorns, that pageant pomp infest ; 
 Contentment's wings o'erspread their straw-thatched cot, 
 And Health and Hymen bless their happy lot. 
 Day bounds the labour of the teeming soil. 
 And night unbends the aching nerves of toil. 
 The hard fatigues, that daily sweat their brows, 
 Add charms to rest, and raptures to repose ; 
 Labour and Sleep vicissive thrones maintain, 
 The downy pillow, and the sun-bui'nt plain. 
 By mutual wants induced, the rustick band 
 Soon learn the blessings of a friendly hand. 
 The rugged hardships of the plough they share, 
 And soothe ferocious minds by mutual cai^e, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 59 
 
 Their social labour social warmth inspires, 
 And dawning friendship lights her purest fires. 
 Their generous breasts with growing ardour burn, 
 And love for love, and heart for heart return. 
 Thus private friendship fornas the social chain, 
 And links the barbarous tenants of the plain. 
 Still, like a herd, they rove, with laws unblest, 
 No civil head to govern o'er the rest ; 
 Till some wise sire, whose silver tresses flow, 
 And form a mantle of the purest snow, 
 Quivering with age, and venerably great, 
 Assumes the sceptre, and the chair of state. 
 The obedient tribes the palsied sage revere, 
 Whose wisdom taught them, both to love and fear ; 
 Their filial breasts, unbought by courtly bribes. 
 With reverence see the father of the tribes ; 
 His voice is fate, and not a lisp could fall, 
 That was not thought an oracle by all ; 
 With eyes of homage, they beheld his age. 
 And called tlieir realm the household of the sage. 
 
 Pleased with his reign, which met too soon a close, 
 The tribes beneath elective kings repose. 
 Now laws are formed to guard the rights of man, 
 And peace and freedom bless the social plan ; 
 Now art, the offspring of the ingenious mind, 
 Completes the system and adorns mankind. 
 
60- COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 A VALEDICTORY POEM 
 
 J>elivered on the 21st of June, 1791, being; the day when Mr. Panic and hi 
 class left Colleffe. 
 
 XJONG have the zephyrs, in their sea-green caves, 
 
 Shunned the calm bosom of the slumbering waves ; 
 
 While halcyon Pleasure nursed her tender brood. 
 
 Spread her smooth wings, and skimmed the tranquil flood. 
 
 The rising gale now curls the lucid seas ; 
 
 The canvass wantons with the buoyant breeze ; 
 
 The bark is launched ; we throng the crowded shore, 
 
 Eye the dark main, and hear the billows roar ; 
 
 The tender scene unfolds ; our bosoms melt ; 
 
 And silence speaks the throbs, we all have felt. 
 
 Here let us pause, and ere our anchors weigh, 
 
 And shoreless ocean bounds tlie vast survey. 
 
 Let Friendship, kneeling on the weeping strand, 
 
 K.iss her last tiibute to her native land. 
 
 Sweet, lovely Cam, no more thy rural scenes, 
 Thy shady arbours, and thy splendid greens. 
 Thy i^everend elims, thy soft Idalian bowers, 
 Thy rush-clad hamlets, and thy lofty towers. 
 Thy spicy valleys, and tliy opening glades, 
 Thy falling fountains, and thy silent shades ; 
 No more these dear delights, that once were oursy 
 Smile time along, nor strcAv our couch with fiower&. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 61 
 
 Hail, winding Charles, old Ocean's favourite son, 
 To his vast urn thy gay meanders run. 
 Diffusing wealth, thou rollest a liquid mine ; 
 Earth drinks no current, that surpasses thine ! 
 Thy cooling waves succeed the sleeping hearth, 
 The peasant's fountain, and the muses' bath. 
 Yet, fairest flood, adieu ! our happy day 
 Like thy smooth stream, has flowed unseen away. 
 No more thy banks shall bear our spoi-tive feet ; 
 No more thy waves shall quench the dogstar's heat. 
 Our fate reflected in thy face we view ; 
 Thou hast. thy ebb, and we must bid adieu ! 
 Hail, happy Harvard ! hail, ye sacred groves, 
 Where Science dwells, and lovely Friendship roves \ 
 Ye tender pleasures, and ye social sweets, 
 Which softened life, and blessed these tranquil seats ! 
 To part with you — a solemn gloom is spread ; 
 The sigh half-stifled, and the tear half-shed. 
 
 Come then, my friends, and, while the Avillow weaves 
 A weeping garland with its drooping leaves. 
 Let Friendship's myrtle in the foliage flow, 
 And Wisdom's ivy wreath the shaded brow. 
 Life is a stage, with varied scenery gay. 
 But scenes more various mark the chequered play. 
 Virtue and Vice here shine in equal state. 
 The same their wardrobe, and the same their gait ; 
 Here gay delusions cheat tlie dazzled eyes, 
 And bliss and sorrow mtermingled rise. 
 The soil of life their equal growth manures ; 
 One sky supports them, and one sun matures. 
 
62 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Deep in the bosom of each distant clime, 
 Their roots defy the furrowing share of time. 
 Alike they bloom, while circling seasons wing 
 The raving whirlwind and the smiling spring. 
 One luckless day the extremes of fate surveys, 
 And one sad hour sees both the tropicks blaze. 
 
 A bitter tincture every sweet alloys, 
 And woes, like heirs, succeed insolvent joys. 
 Hard is the lot of life, by fears consumed, 
 Or hopes, that wither, ere they well have bloomed ! 
 Who breathes, may draw the death-infected air j 
 Who quaffs the nectar, must the poison share. 
 Untainted pleasures soon the taste would cloy ; 
 Woe forms a relish for returning joy. 
 The raging storm gives vegetation birth j 
 And thunders, while they rock, preserve the earth. 
 
 Vain are the gilded dreams, that Fancy weaves, 
 With the light texture of the sybil's leaves. 
 Sweet are the hovirs of Life's expanding years, 
 When drest in splendour, eveiy scene appears. 
 Romantick hopes illusive phantoms feed ; 
 New prospects open as the old recede ; 
 In flowering verdure, smiling Edens rise, 
 And isles of pleasure tempt the enamoured eyes ; 
 Still unexplored new beauties strike the sight, 
 Till Fancy's wings grow weary in their flight. 
 
 Resplendent bubbles, decked with every hue. 
 Whose tints entrance the most enraptured view, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 62 
 
 Throng every prospect, gild each rolling hour-, 
 Frame the wild dream, and haunt the silent bower. 
 These airy forms our fond embrace decoy, 
 Elude our grasp, and stab expected joy ; 
 Cameleon-like, with every hue they glare. 
 Their dress the rainbow, and their food the air. 
 Thus gleams the insect of a summer's night, 
 The glistering fire-fly's corruscating light. 
 Awhile it wheels its undistinguished flight 
 Through the dark bosom of impervious night, 
 'Till from its opening wings, a ti'ansient gleam 
 Smiles through the dark, and pours a lucid stream ; 
 But while the glitter chai^ms our gazing eyes. 
 Its wings are folded, and the meteor dies. 
 
 Maturer years in swift succession roll. 
 Enlarge the prospect and dilate the soul ; 
 Tully outstripped lies grovelling in renown. 
 And Virgil weeps upon liis faded crown. 
 Grouped in one view the extremes of life are joined, 
 Arabia's bloom with Lapland's ice combined ; 
 Calypso's grotto with the field of arms ; 
 Ajacian fury with Helenian charms ; 
 Bi'ight faulchions lighten in the olive grove, 
 And helmets mingle with the toys of love. 
 Here modest Merit mourned her blasted wreath. 
 While laurels crowiied the ghastly scull of Death. 
 Here towermg pedants proudly learnt to sneer 
 On wits, whom they had sense enough to fear ; 
 The midnight lamp with native genius vied. 
 Mimicked its lustre, and its fire supplied. 
 
64 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 The nuts of grace, the rattles of tlie stool 
 Bribed and adorned the blockhead of the school. 
 O'er Youth's gay paths delusive snares are spread ; 
 Soft Syrens sing, and smile Resistance dead ; 
 Ixion's fate forgot, the busy croud 
 Pursue a Juno, but embrace a cloud. 
 From Lethes' stream is filled the flowing bowij 
 And sweet oblivion whelms the drowsy soul ; 
 No screams of murdered Time its slumbers break, 
 And lounging Indolence forgets to wake. 
 Ease for a while may charm the dormant mind, 
 Pervert our reason, and our judgment blind ; 
 But, soon, alas ! the magick spell will fly, 
 And tears bedew Reflection's downcast eye.. 
 Corrosive years one downy hour repay ; 
 The bud, too forward, blossoms to decay. 
 
 With cherished flames the youthful bosom glowsj 
 And Hope luxuriant in the hot-bed grows. 
 Self-flattering Fancy here her influence sheds, 
 Young genius blossoms, and its foliage spreads ; 
 But if too fierce the sultry splendours shine, 
 And swelling growth distend the aspiring vme, 
 No skilful hand the excrescent limbs to prune, 
 At morn to water, and to shade at noon ; 
 In Avildly-fertile efflorescence rise 
 The encumbered branches, and the victim dies. 
 
 Thus burning skies o'er India's arid soil 
 In noblest verdure clothe each blooming isle, 
 Whi,le sickly vapours taint the scorching breeze^ 
 i\wake the earthquake, and convulse the seas ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 65 
 
 fhe thirsty glebe exhausts each purling stream, 
 And Death in ambush glistens from each beam. 
 
 But nobler souls an equal temper know, 
 Nor soar too vainly, nor descend too low. 
 Heaven's angry bolt first strikes the mountain's head, 
 And sweeping torrents drench the lowly shed. 
 Heroick Worth, wliile nations rise and fall. 
 Securely pi'opped, beholds this circling ball ; 
 Like the firm nave, which nought can sink or raise, 
 The whirls of fortune's wheel vinmoved surveys. 
 
 Ye watchful guardians of our youthful band, 
 Your worth our praise, your cares our love demand. 
 Long have your toils the parent's office graced. 
 Formed the young thought, and pruned the lising taste. 
 Infantile genius needs the fostering hand. 
 Its buds to open, and its flowers expand ; 
 And bounteous Heaven this nursery has designed. 
 To rock tlie cradle of the infant mind. 
 Long have you slaked the thirst of ardent youth 
 From this clear fountain of untamted truth. 
 Faithful to censure, eager to commend, 
 To act the critick, and to feel the friend ; 
 Watchful to lend unasking Merit aid. 
 And beckon modest Virtue from the shade ; 
 These are the blessings, which your smiles bestow ; 
 These are the wreathes, that crown your laureat brow 5 
 And these, enrolled on Memory's faithful page. 
 Fame shall transcribe, and sound to every age, 
 9 
 
GOLtEGE EXERCISER. 
 
 And when grey Time shall knit the wrinkled browy 
 And wintry age shall shed its mantling snow, 
 Some reverend father in the chair of state, 
 Quivei^ng with age, and venerably great, 
 Shall cast o'er life a retrospective view, 
 And bless the soil, where infant greatness grew ; 
 And while the long review his breast shall swell. 
 Here shall his mind with filial fondness dwell ; 
 While transport glistens from the falling tear, 
 And Death, grown envious at the sight, draws near, 
 The good old man, with this expiring sigh, 
 " Let Harvard live," shall clasp his hands and die^ 
 
 This sacred temple and this classick grove 
 Proclaim your merits, and our grief approve. 
 The painter's skill may shade the glooms of fate^. 
 And fancied woe the griefless eye dilate j 
 We spurn the glaring tapestry of art j 
 Truth's noblest pencil is a grateful heart. 
 Long may your days in gay succession run ; 
 Long may you bask in Fortune's smilmg sun ; 
 Long o'er these happy seats may you preside, - 
 The boast of Harvard, and your countiy's pride. 
 Our filial bosoms shall your names revere ; 
 Truth has a tongue, and gratitude a tear. 
 Waves crowd on waves, on ages ages roll. 
 And we retire, that you may reach the goal. 
 Here for a while your busy feet may rove. 
 To cull the flowers of this Lycean grove. 
 Like you, we passed the distant threshold by. 
 While Hope looked forward with a wishful eye ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^f 
 
 Liike you, we gazed on Fame's immortal door ; 
 You tread the path, that we have trod before ; 
 And scarce the sun his annual tour has made 
 Since we with joy this solemn day surveyed. 
 But, ah ! our joy was but an April morn ; 
 The rose has faded and has left -the thom. 
 Feel then the wound, before you meet the dart ; 
 Like us you follow, and, like us, must part. 
 
 The bloom of youthful years is doomed to fade ^ ^ 
 
 The brightest noon a sullen cloud may shade ; 
 And we, my friends, to whom each bliss is given, 
 This happy spot, this vicinage of heaven, 
 Each painful sense, each tender woe endure, 
 And bleed with wounds, which Friendship cannot cure-. 
 While gaily sparkling from the realms of night. 
 Smiles the fair morn, and spreads her golden light, 
 Grown dark with fate, the solemn skies appear, 
 And distant thunder? strike the astonished ear ; 
 The tempest lowers, the rapid moments fly. 
 And moistening friendship melts in every eye. 
 
 Oft, when employed in life's prospective view, 
 This gloomy hour a mournful tribute drew. 
 Oft have we shuddered at this solemn day. 
 And gazed till tears had dimmed the visual ray. 
 Now the dark scene, which Fancy once surveyed^ 
 And o'er our brightest pleasures cast a shadcj 
 Bids the warm stream of real grief to flow? 
 The silent elegy of speechless woe. 
 Long have we wished this painful day removed 5 
 Affection framed the wish, and Hope approved., 
 
^8 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Long have we hugged the dream with fond deceit, 
 
 And strove by tears to intercede with Fate. 
 
 But, ah ! in vain, for now the rapid sun 
 
 Four annual circuits through the heaven has run ; 
 
 In our sad ears the solemn dirges ring, 
 
 And our last hope is flitting on the wing. 
 
 With swifter course the new-bom moments fly ; 
 Here wipe the tear, suppress the bursting sigh. 
 
 Oft have we rambled o'er the flowery plain. 
 And freely followed Pleasure's smiling train ; 
 Oft have we wandered o'er the breezy hill, 
 And traced the windings of the purling rill ; 
 Where the dark forest glooms the silent walk. 
 Has prattling Echo learnt of us to talk ; 
 Oft on the river's flowery banks we've ranged. 
 To all the woes of future life estranged ; 
 Oft on the scenes, which airy Fancy drew. 
 We fondly gazed and fondly thought them true. 
 But now no more these social sports delight ; 
 No song the ear, no landscape charms the sight. 
 From grove to grove the airy songsters play, 
 All nature blooms, and smiling heaven looks gay ; 
 But, ah ! for us no verdant meadqw blooms ; 
 No songsters warble, and no sun illumes j 
 These can but lend another shade to woe. 
 And add new tortures to the poignant blow. 
 No more we mingle in the sportive scene. 
 The gay palestra, and the tufted green. 
 
 The fatal sheers the slender thread divide, 
 And sculptured urns the mouldering relicks hide ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 69 
 
 Far deeper wounds our bleeding breasts display, 
 
 And Fate's most deadly weapon is — to-day. 
 
 To-day we part ; ye throbs of anguish, rise, 
 
 Flow, all ye tears, and heave, ye rending sighs ! 
 
 Come, lend to Friendship's stifRed voice relief. 
 And melt the lonely hermitage of grief. 
 
 Sighs, though in vain, may tell the world we feel. 
 
 And tears may soothe the wound, they cannot heal. 
 
 To day we launch from this delightful shore. 
 
 And Mirth shall cheer, and Friendship charm no more ; 
 
 We spread the sail o'er life's tumultuous tide ; 
 
 Ambition's helm, let prudent Reason guide ; 
 
 Let grey Experience, with her useful chart. 
 
 Direct the wishes of the youthful heart. 
 
 Where'er kind Heaven shall bend, our wide career, 
 
 Still let us fan the flame, we've kindled here ; 
 
 Still let our bosoms burn with equal zeal. 
 
 And teach old age the warmth of youth to feel. 
 
 But ere the faithful moment bids us part. 
 
 Rends every nerve, and racks the throbbing heart, 
 
 Let us, while here our fondest prayer ascends. 
 
 Swear on this altar, " that we will be friends 1" 
 
 But, ah ! behold the fatal moment fly ; 
 
 Time cuts the knot, he never could untie. 
 
 Adieu ! ye scenes, where noblest pleasures dwell I 
 
 Ye happy seats, ye sacred walls, farewell ! 
 
 Adieu, ye guides, and thou enlightened sire ; 
 
 A long farewell resounds our plaintive lyi'e ; 
 
 Adieu, ye youths, that press our tardy heel ; 
 
 Long may it be, ere you such griefs shall feel ! 
 
 Wild horrors swim around my startlmg view ; 
 
 Fate prompts my tongue, and, oh 1 my friends, adieu, 
 
70 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 The following Poem was delivered on Commencement day, at Cambridge, v/heu 
 Mf. Paine proceeded Bachelor of Arts, July 1792. 
 
 THE NATURE AND PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 
 
 XXail, sacred Freedom ! heaven-born goddess, hail ! 
 
 Friend of the pen, the sickle and the sail ! 
 
 From thee the power of liberal thought we trace. 
 
 The great enlargement of the human race. 
 
 Thou hast recalled, to man's astonished sight, 
 
 Those joys, that spring from choice of doing right ; 
 
 That sacred blessing, man's peculiar pride, 
 
 To follow Reason, where she ought to guide ; 
 
 Nor urged by power the devious path to run, 
 
 Which Reason warns our erring feet to shun. 
 
 What Reason prompts, 'tis Freedom to fulfil ; 
 
 This guides the conduct, that directs the will ; 
 
 That with the " rights of man" from Heaven descends, 
 
 And this with Heaven's own shield those rights defends ; 
 
 Bound by no laws, but Truth's extensive plan. 
 
 Which rules all rationals and social man ; 
 
 Essential laws, which guide in wide career 
 
 The rapid motions of the boundless sphere. 
 
 There Order bids the circling planets run 
 
 Through heaven's vast suburbs round the blazing sun j 
 
 Directs an atom, as it rules the pole, 
 
 Reigns through all worlds, and shines the system's soul ; 
 
 This moves the vast machine, unknown to jar. 
 
 And links an insect with the fai'tliest star. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. tl 
 
 Thus Freedom here the civil system binds, 
 Cements our friendships, and illumes our mincts. 
 She bids the varying parts of life cohere, 
 The sun and centre of the social sphere. 
 Freedom in joys of equal life delights, 
 Forbids encroachment on another's rights, ^ 
 
 Contemns the tyrant's proud imperial sway, 
 Nor leaves the subject for the sceptre's prey. 
 She curbs ambition, bold mcursion checks, 
 Nor more the palace, than the vale protects. 
 From her the noblest joys of mortals spring ; 
 She makes the cot a throne, the peasant king. 
 Her presence smooths tlie rugged paths of woe. 
 And bids the rock with streams of pleasure flow. 
 No raven's notes her sacred gToves annoy ; 
 There Sickness smiles, and Want exults with joy. 
 There never drooped the willow of Despair, 
 Nor pressed the footstep of corroding Care- 
 Hard is the task, which civil rulers bear, 
 To give each subject freedom's equal share; 
 But still more arduous to the statesmen's ken. 
 To check the passions of licentious men. 
 The licensed robber, and the knave in power. 
 Whose grasping avarice strips the peasant's bower. 
 Would glean an Andes' topmost rock for wealth, 
 And feed, like leeches, on their country's health. 
 The man, who barters influence for applause. 
 Libels the smile, and spurns the frown of laws. 
 Licentious morals breed disease of state, 
 And snatch the scabbard from the sword of fate. 
 
72 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 These were the bane, which ancient ages knew ; 
 On freedom's stalk the engrafted scion grew. 
 
 Long had the clouds of ignorance gloomed mankind, 
 And Error held the sceptre of the mind ; 
 Long had the tyrant kept the world in awe, 
 Swords turned the scale, and nods enacted law ; 
 But where mild Freedom crowns the happy shore. 
 Law guides the king, and kings the law no more. 
 No threatening sword the forum's tongue restrains ; 
 No monarch courts the mask, when Reason reigns. 
 Here glows the press with Freedom's sacred zeal, 
 The great Briareus of the publick weal. 
 
 Dire wars, those civil earthquakes, long had raged, 
 Seas burst on seas, and world with world engaged ; 
 Freedom allured the struggling hero's eye, 
 Of arms the laurel — of the world the sigh. 
 
 But, ah ! in vain the clarion sounds afar, 
 Vain the dread pomp, and vain the storm of war ; 
 In vain dread Havock saw her millions die ; 
 Vain the soft pearl, that melts the virgin's eye ; 
 Vain the last groan of grey expiring age. 
 To move the marble of despotick rage ! 
 In that dai'k realm, where science never shone, 
 On earth's owai basis stands the tyrant's throne. 
 One murder marks the assassin's odious name. 
 But millions damn the hero into fame ; 
 And one proud monarch from the throne was hurled, 
 That rival sceptres might dispute the world. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. f^ 
 
 l^reedom beheld new foes the old replace, 
 And ne'er extinct the despot's hydra race ; 
 Still some usurper for the crown survived ; 
 She stabbed a Caesar, but Augustus lived. 
 So meanly abject was the vassaled earth, 
 Rome blazed a bonfire for a Nero's mirth ; 
 While, like the insect round the taper's blaze. 
 The crowd beheld it with a thoughtless gaze. 
 No daring patriot stretched his arm to save 
 His country's freedom from oblivion's grave ; 
 *l"'he slave, who once opposed the crown in vain, 
 Found a new rivet in his former chain. 
 
 Thus raged the horrors of despotick sway. 
 Till Albion welcomed freedom's da\nnng ray ; 
 Which, like the herald of returning light, 
 Beamed through the clouds of intellectual night. 
 But here environed was the human path. 
 Cramped the free mind, and chained the choice oifaitlu 
 Religious despots foi^med the impious plan, 
 To lord it o'er the consciences of man. 
 
 This galling yoke our sires could bear no more ; 
 They fled, for freedom, to Colum.bia's shore. 
 Truth for their object, Virtue for their guide. 
 They braved the dangers of an unknown tide. 
 The patriarch's God of old preserved the ark. 
 And freedom's guardian watched the patriot's bark- 
 The shrine of freedom and of truth to rear, 
 They left those scenes, which social life endear ; 
 To Britain's courts preferred the savage den. 
 The free-bom Indian to dependent men. 
 10 
 
74 
 
 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 For this, the parting tear of Friendship fell j 
 For this, they bade their parent soil farewell 
 
 In these dark wilds they fixed the deep laid stoncy 
 On which fair Freedom since has reared her throne. 
 But still a cloud their civil views confined, 
 And gloomed the prospect of the pious mind ; 
 While Britain claimed with laws our rights to lead, 
 And faith was fettered by a bigot's creed. 
 
 Then mental freedom first her power displayed. 
 And called a Mayhew to religion's aid. 
 For this dear truth, he boldly led the van, 
 That private judgment was the right of man. 
 Mayhew disdained that soul-contracting view 
 Of sacred truth, which zealous Frenzy drew ; 
 He sought religion's fountain head to drink, 
 And preached what others only dared to think ; 
 He loosed the mind from Superstition's awe, 
 And broke the sanction of Opinion's law. 
 Truth gave his mind the electrick's subtle springs 
 A Chatham's lightning, and a Milton's wing. 
 Mayhew hath cleansed the bigot's filmy eye ; 
 Mayhew explored religion's native sky, 
 Whei^ ever radiant in immortal youth, 
 Shines the clear sun of inexhausted truth ; 
 Where time's vast ocean, like a drop would seem, 
 The world a pebble, and yon sun a beam. 
 He struck that spark, whose genial warmth we feel 
 In heavenly charity's fraternal zeaL 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. t?S 
 
 Soon blazed the flame, with kindlmg ardour i*an, 
 And gave new vigour to the breast of man. 
 Swift as loud torrents from a mountain's brow 
 Plunge down the sky, and whelm the world below ; 
 Our patriots bade the vast idea roll, 
 And round Columbia waft a common soul. 
 Freedom resumed her throne ; her oiFspring rose, ■ 
 Braved the dread fury of despotick foes. 
 Explored the source whence all our glory ran, 
 Columbia's freedom and the " rights of man ;" 
 Europa's wish, the tyrant's dread and rage, 
 The noblest epoch on the historick page ! 
 
 Hail, virtuous ancestors ! seraphick minds ! 
 Heroes in faith, and Freedom's noblest friends ! 
 With filial fervour grateful memory calls. 
 To bless the founders of those sacred walls ! 
 You gave to age a staff — a guide to youth. 
 Yon fount of science, and that lamp of truth. 
 Where Knowledge beams her soul-enlivening ray, 
 There Freedom spreads her heaven-descended sway. 
 Learning's an antidote of lawless power ; 
 Enlighten man, and tyrants reign no more ! 
 
 Hail, sacred Liberty ! tremendous sound ! 
 Which strikes the despot's heart with awe profound ^ 
 Bursts with more horrour on the tyrant's ears, 
 Than all the thunders of the embattled sphef^s ; 
 More dreadful than the fiend, whose noxious breath 
 Consigns whole nations to the realms of death ; 
 Than all those tortures, which Belshazzar felt 
 Convulse his tottering knees, his bosom melt, 
 
5^6 s COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 When on the wall the sacred finger drew 
 Jehovah's vengeance to the monarch's view 5 
 His visage Terrour's palest veil o'ercast, 
 And Guilt with wildest horrour stood aghast i 
 Such direful tremours shake the tyrant's soul. 
 When Liberty xuifolds her radiant scroll. 
 
 Hail, sacred Liberty, divinely fair ! 
 iPolumbia's great palladium, Gallia's prayer ! 
 From heaven descend to free this fettered globe ; 
 Unclasp the helmet, and adorn the robe. 
 May struggling France her ancient freedom gain ; 
 May Europe's sword oppose her rights in vain. 
 The dauntless Franks once spumed the tyrant's power 
 May Frenchmen live, and Gallia be no more I 
 
 May Africk's sons no more be heard to groan. 
 Lament their exile nor their fate bemoan ! 
 Torn from the pleasures of their native clime, 
 Each sigh rebellion — and each tear a crime, 
 Their only solace, but to brood on woes, 
 Or, on the down of rocks their limbs repose ! 
 Weak with despair, slow tottering with toil, 
 Bleeding with wounds, and gasping on the soil. 
 No friend, no pity, cheers the hapless slave, 
 No sleep but death, no pillow but the grave. 
 Blush, despots, blush ! who, fired by sordid ore, 
 Like pirates, plunder Africk's swarming shore ; 
 To western worlds the shackled slave trepan. 
 And basely traffick in " the souls of man !" 
 Vile monsters, hear ! Time spreads his rapid wingSj 
 ^\nd now ^he fated hour in prospect brings, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. ff 
 
 When your proud turrets shall to earth be thrown, 
 And Freedom triumph in the torrid zone ! 
 May tyranny from every throne be hurled, 
 And make no more a scaffold of the trorld ! 
 
 Where'er the sunbeam gilds the rolling hour, 
 Wings the fleet gale, and blossoms in the flower ; 
 May Freedom's glorious reign o'er realms prevail, 
 Where Cook's bright fancy never spread the sail. 
 Long may the laurel to the ermine yield, 
 The stately palace to the fertile field ; 
 The fame of Burke in dark oblivion rust, 
 His pen a meteor — and his page the dust ; 
 Faction no more the enlightened world alarm, 
 Nor snatch the infant from the parent's ami ; 
 May Peace, descending like the mystick dove, 
 Which once announced the great Immanual's love. 
 On Freedom's brow her olive garland bind. 
 And shed her blessings round on all mankind ! 
 
 The following Pieces are found among Mr. Paine's loose papers. They were 
 written, some at an earlier, and some at a later period, during his academical 
 life, 
 
 A PASTORAL. 
 
 oo fair a form was ne'er by Heaven designed 
 But with its charms to enslave and bless mankind. 
 So pure a mind, such high unrivalled worthy 
 Put to recall a paradise on earth ! 
 
fS COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Then, ye fair Nine, the trembling muse inspire ; 
 In raptured notes awake her feeble lyre ; 
 Now swell your boldest strains 1 Maria's praise 
 Claims all tlie majesty of Homer's lays. 
 
 MORNING. 
 
 Now Phosphor swells the clarion note of morn, 
 And all the hostile clouds of night are gone ; 
 Ambrosial zephyrs ope the fragrant flowers, 
 And rosy Health attends the jocund hours. 
 The Morn, with pearly feet advancing, leads 
 Joy's smiling train, and blushes o'er the meads. 
 The golden flood of light o'er eastern hills 
 She pours, and every breast with rapture fills. 
 The ocean, sheathed in light's effulgent arms. 
 Rolls his high surges bright with borrowed charms. 
 The little hills around their carols sing ; 
 The vales with soft mellifluous echoes ring ; 
 The early lark attunes her matin lay. 
 And vocal forests hail the approach of day. 
 
 The vigorous huntsman leaves his downy bed,; 
 And mounted swiftly scours along the mead. 
 Hark ! the shrill clarion's winding note resounds ; 
 Hark ! the air trembles with the cry of hounds. 
 The raging wolves through gloomy forests prowl, 
 The tawny lions through the meadows howl. 
 \uO ! o'er the fields Maria bends her way ; 
 The gazing hounds forget their tremblmg prey ; 
 The grateful woods repeat Maria's name. 
 And all tlie savage race, inspired, grow tame. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 79 
 
 The youthful shepherd, who had housed his flock 
 Withm the dark recesses of a rock, ' 
 
 To screen them from the wolf's resistless jaw, 
 Needs now no crook to keep his foe in awe ; 
 For, while his notes Maria's name resound. 
 The wolf no more infests the peaceful ground. 
 
 * In beauty clad, more beauteous than the morn, 
 The fair Maria trips the dewy lawn ; 
 The ambroisal zephyrs, from each meadow, seek. 
 To steal new perfumes from her fragrant cheek ; 
 Celestial Virtue guides her wandering feet, 
 And Science courts her to her fair retreat. 
 Here shall the rose grow, free from every thorn, 
 ^nd here her life be fair, be sweet as mom. 
 
 NOON. 
 
 Now the fierce coursers of the sultry day 
 Breath from their nostrils the meridian ray ; 
 Beneath such heat the landscape faints around ; 
 The birds forget to sing, the woods to sound ; 
 The withered rose forgets perfumes to yield, 
 And murmuring brooks mourn o'er the drooping field. 
 
 The sprightly lambs, which in the morning played. 
 And near a fount their fleecy form surveyed, 
 On the green tuft, the limpid stream o'erflows, 
 Subdued by heat, their weary limbs repose. 
 
 The sweating ploughman leaves his sultry toil, 
 To quench his thirst from ci'ystal streams, that boil 
 
80 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 O'er the rough pebbles, which incessant chide, 
 As o'er the fields they in meanders glide. 
 
 The love-sick swain now leaves his drooping flockj 
 And seeks retreat beneath some shelving rock. 
 Which Spring's fair hand, with fairest flowers, has gi-aced j 
 Here he retires the heat of day to Avaste. 
 
 All Nature droops ; no joy the meadow yields : 
 How languid is the green, which graced the fields I 
 But see, Maria comes, by zephyrs fanned ; 
 See how the gales the enlivening flowers expand. 
 Spontaneous roses in her footsteps spring ; 
 The fields revive, the cheerful warblers sing ; 
 The drooping foi'est now the lyre resumes. 
 In fair Maria's praise each landscape blooms ; 
 Now tears of joy array the smiling lawn. 
 And soaring larks would fondly think, 'twas morn; 
 
 EVENING- 
 
 Retiring day now blushes o'er the heaven, 
 And slow in solemn brown brings on the even ; 
 Now silent dews along the gi'ass distil, 
 And all the air with their sweet fragrance fill ; 
 Now chaste Diana, with her silver train, 
 In her bright chariot rising quits the main ; 
 Now all the stars in bright confusion roll. 
 And with their lustre gild the glowing pole. 
 The happy swains now seek the ambrosial groves, 
 On their sweet pipes to warble forth their loves, 
 'Twas here reclined beneath the leafy shade, 
 While busy thought Maria's form surveyed, 
 
GtJLLEGE EXERCISES. 81 
 
 The artless **** with his rvide pipe retired, 
 
 To sing those carols, which his love inspired. 
 
 His pipe^ though rude, ne'er swelled a treacherous lay ; 
 
 His pipe and bosom owned Maiia's sway. 
 
 'Twas here he taught the woods her name to sound, 
 
 And her soft praises echoed all around. 
 
 Not far retired, the object of his love 
 With her sweet strains enchanted all the grove ; 
 While bending forests listened to the tale, 
 And her sweet notes re-echoed o'er the vale. 
 A nightingale, who, from a neighbournig spray. 
 Attentive heard Maria's matchless lay, 
 With envy saw the well deserved meed. 
 Bloom with new honours to adorn her head. 
 iShe thrice essayed to emulate the lay, 
 And thrice her wandering thoughts were led astray. 
 Charmed by the miisick of Maria's song. 
 Her heedless notes forgot to pass along. 
 A sudden quivering seized her tender throat ; 
 She ceased to breathe her sweetly plaintive note ; 
 Her languid wings she fluttered on the spray, 
 And at the shrine of Envy sighed her life away* 
 
 Thus, fair Maria, in your wondrous praise. 
 The youthful muse has sung her feeble lays ; 
 And though your name is all that in them shines? 
 Forgive tlie errors of her artless lines. 
 Your true, conspicuous merit e'en will claim. 
 A rank immortal on the list of fame, 
 11 
 
82 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 As on one tree, when sin had not beguiled, 
 Blossoms and fruits in sweet confusion smiled. 
 So youth's gay flowerets in your features bloom, 
 And wisdom's sacred rays your mind illume. 
 
 REFLECTIONS ON A LONELY HILL, WHICH COMMANDED THE 
 PROSPECT OF A BURYING GROUND. 
 
 XlERE museful Thought and Contemplation dwell; 
 
 Here Silence spreads her horrors round ; 
 Hark ! the dull tinkling stream from yonder cell ! 
 
 The soul recoils at every sound ! 
 
 Stai'tled, I view new phantoms round me rise, 
 
 And seem to chide my dull, delay ; 
 View yonder spot where human greatness lies ; 
 
 Thus all must moulder and decay. 
 
 Hark ! from afar the solemn sounding bell 
 
 Fills the dull ear with plaints of woe ; 
 Tis Death awakes, and spreads the warning knell j 
 
 Through the sad gates the mourners flow. 
 
 The distant landscape fades ; thick glooms arise j 
 
 Twilight the sombre scene surveys ; 
 While tears, in dew drops, glisten in her eyes. 
 
 And faintly shroud her pitying rays. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 8^ 
 
 \Vhen blooming spring adorns the verdant mead, 
 
 Zephyrs arise from every grove ; 
 The notes of joy along the woodland spread, 
 
 And breathe the fragrant sweets of love. 
 
 O'er hill, o'er dale the nimble huntsmen bound, 
 
 And wake the morn to health's employ ; 
 With variegated flowers the mead is crowned j 
 
 Spring wantons in the bowers of joy. 
 
 But sultry summer wings the Sirian ray, 
 
 Whose heat subdues the blooming field ; 
 The fair blown flowerets wither and decay j 
 
 The trees \mripened fruitage yield. 
 
 Now the black tempest gathers from afar ; 
 
 With horror all the horizon's bound ; 
 Now clashing clouds along the ether war^ 
 
 And pour their inundations I'ound. 
 
 VV HEN ****'s graces bid the pencil break 
 Through Nature's barriers, and the canvass speak j 
 Lo ! stooping Time stands gazing at the form, 
 And e'en his frigid limbs with love grow warm. 
 But when her lofty muse commands the page 
 To soothe the passions, or inspire with rage. 
 Charmed with each line the hoary despot stands? 
 And ruin's uplift scythe drops from his hands. 
 
 I 
 
^4 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 FRAGMENT. 
 
 J. HE Splendid morn with flaming light had graced 
 
 The gold fringed clouds, the curtains of the east ; %JL 
 
 Invited by the breeze to taste the sweets ' 
 
 Which breathe in Harvard's venerable seats, 
 
 Beneath her flowery gi^oves and bowers I strayed ; 
 
 Morpheus had just forsook the happy shade ; 
 
 He saw me, rambling o'er the morning dew, 
 
 And in my face enraged his poppies threw ; 
 
 Pressed Avith the load, my heavy eyelids close, 
 
 And in the shade my drowsy limbs repose. 
 
 When to my eyes 9,n aged dame appeared, 
 
 Gazed on the scene and treasured all she heard. 
 
 Upon her brow deep thought in furrows lies, 
 
 And wild anxiety distorts her eyes ; 
 
 Me thus accosting in my cool resort ; 
 
 " I come," says she, " from Wisdom's brilliant court> 
 
 " Where fair Maria, of immortal name, X 
 
 " Holds the high sceptre with vuibounded fame. 
 
 " My name's Investigation, fondly sought, 
 
 " Where Truth can please tlie mind, or warm the thought. 
 
 " Then follow in my steps to yonder shade ; 
 
 " There stands a mirror to the eye displayed ; 
 
 " In it each virtue of the deepest breast, 
 
 ^* And every vice and fault appear exprest. 
 
 '^' 'Twas there Maria bade me lead your eyes, 
 
 " To amend each error, and to make you wise.'* 
 
 My willing hand then to the path she drew ; 
 
 1 fondly bade to vice a long adieu ! 
 
 •f 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^$ 
 
 'lost the matin carol of the lark, 
 And entered in the grove ; — 'twas still and dark. ^ 
 A solemn silence sat on every scene, 
 And envious night veiled spring's delightful mien, 
 In mazy rout we rove the winding road, 
 And oft retrace the path we once have trod, 
 'Till through the transient gloom a ray of light. 
 From the broad mirror, beamed upon our sight. 
 Above a rumung brook, the mirror's gleam. 
 With bright reflection, tinged the glassy stream ; 
 Hence light, emerging round, the grove displayed, 
 'Till faintly dim it mingled with tlie shade. 
 Cheered by the feeble ray through many a maze. 
 We turn our feet and reach the mirror's blaze. 
 Fair Truth, the spotless offspring of the sky. 
 Rayed in a robe of flowing white, stood by ; 
 With gentle voice she thus accosts my guide : 
 '< Hail, honoured maid, fair Reason's noblest pride I 
 " Oft hast thou won the prize of bliss supreme, 
 " And these fond warbling groves chose thee their theme ; 
 " And oft have I, enticed by fond regard, 
 " The stainless laurel for your brow prepared. 
 " But say, fair nymph, whence come you thus again ? 
 '^ What happy mortal follows in your train ?" 
 To whom my guide, " Where fair Maria's court 
 " For exiled Wisdom opes a kind resort, 
 " Thence I return, at her command, once more 
 " These spotless groves and blest retreats to explore ; 
 " To teach this youth thy undissembling lore ; 
 " In thy pure mirror to display each stain / 
 
 ^' Which blots his bosom, or what virtues reign," 
 
 • 
 
 ••*/?#jA/-' 
 
86 COLLEGE EXEUGISES. 
 
 Then heavenly Ti'uth her magick sceptre moved, 
 Anc^From the mirror all its gloss removed. 
 The vmdazzled eye could now unhurt behold 
 The mmost secrets of the breast unfold. 
 
 The following lines, I am inclined to think,'make a part of the "Invention of 
 Letters," as that poem was first designed by Mr. Paine ; — but, because my 
 opinion is without other evidence, than such as arises from the subject, I place 
 the fragment here, rather than in a note to the " Invention of Letters." 
 
 OAGE Cadmus, hail ! to thee the Grecians owed 
 The art and science, that from letters flowed ; 
 To thy great mmd indebted ages stand, 
 And grateful Learning owns thy guardian hand. 
 Without the invention of a written tongue, 
 E'en Fame herself no lastmg notes had sung ; 
 Thy brow she crowns with tributary bays. 
 And sounds thy glory in immortal lays. 
 
 Hark ! a swift whii-hvind rushes through the heaven ^ 
 Before its wrath the stateliest oaks are riven. 
 Say ! is the thunderbolt from Jove's right hand. 
 Launched on the earth to scourge a guilty land ? 
 Say ! have the embattled winds, in eddies whirled, 
 Joined their whole force to storm the shivering world ? 
 Lo ! bold Demosthenes advances forth, 
 His voice, like thunder bursting from the north ; 
 Dread Philip hears, and trembles from afar ; 
 Greece springs from slumber to the field of war. 
 From his keen eyes the livid lightnings dart, 
 And freedom's flame from breast to breast impart. 
 
 X4^.rt^< 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 8^ 
 
 This translation of the Tityrus was made by Mr. Paine in April 1790 ;•— it giveis 
 the sense of Virgil with considerable fidelity and elegance. 
 
 TfEANSLATION OF THE FIRST ECLOGUE OF VIRGII,. 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 W HiLE you, O Tityrus, beneath the shade, 
 Which the broad branches of this beech display, 
 Devoid of care, recline your peaceful head. 
 And warble on your pipe the sylvan lay ; 
 While vocal v^oods to your enchantment yield, 
 And Amaryllis' praise witli joy resound, 
 We wander far from home, by fate comfielled, 
 And leave our peaceful cot, our native ground. 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 These are the blessings, which a God bestowed ; 
 His bounteous hand e'er proved a God to me ; 
 The tender lamb oft stains his shrine with blood, 
 And by his leave my herds rove o'er the lea ; 
 Beneath his smiles I live with joy and ease, 
 And carol on my pipe whate'er I please. 
 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 I envy not your fortvme, but rejoice, 
 While raging tumults in the country reign, 
 While the inveterate sword each field destroys^ 
 That happiness still smiles along your plains. 
 But, adverse fate still frowns where'er I go ; 
 My fleecy goats with pensive gait I lead. 
 
88 CdLLfiGE teXERClSES, 
 
 And this I drag along with much ado, 
 
 Who just now yeanmg in the hazle shade. 
 
 Departing thence forsook her tender young, 
 
 The little hope of my decreasmg fold, 
 
 On the cold bosom of a flinty stone. 
 
 Dire omens oft have all these ills foretold ! 
 
 I should have seen, of reason not bereft. 
 
 Yon oak, which grew so fair, by lightening riven. 
 
 And the hoarse i^aven, croaking from the left, 
 
 Presage the vengeful storm of frowning heaven. 
 
 But, tell me, Tityrus, who is this God, 
 
 That on his favourite swain such gifts bestowed ? 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 A fool I was to thmk the city Rome, 
 Whither we drive our tender herds from home, 
 Like Mantua ; thus I might likewise dare 
 Bitches with whelps, and dams with kids compare ; 
 As well the great to small a likeness own ; 
 But regal Rome ei^ects her lofty throne, 
 Above the cities, which around her shine, 
 As the tall cypress o'er the creeping vine- 
 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 What mighty cause could force you thus from home. 
 And urge the fond desire of seeing Rome ? 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 Freedom ; whose ray at length disclosed its light? 
 After old age had blossomed all its white. 
 Upon my hoary chin it came at last, 
 After long years of slavery were passed, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 After my love for Galatea ceased, 
 
 And beauteous Amaryllis warmed my breast ; 
 
 For while in Galatea's love enchained, 
 
 Nor freedom's hope, nor rural cares remained ; 
 
 Though frequent victims thinned my rising fold, 
 
 And many a cheese for th' ingrate city sold. 
 
 Yet still for her I spent whate'er I earned, 
 
 And still with empty purse I home returned. 
 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 Why Amaryllis to tlie gods complained. 
 And why the trees their ripened loads sustained, 
 I cease to wonder j Tityrus, for thee 
 Her vows were made, and fruitage bent each tree ; 
 The groves, the fountains wish for your return, 
 And 'twas for this the pine's tall branches mourn. 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 What could I do ? Love still inflamed my heart, 
 Nor suffered me from slavery to depart. 
 Return I could not, for a gracious ear 
 The auspicious gods there granted to my prayer ; 
 There first I saw the youth, whose altars burn, 
 With grateful incense at each month's return ; 
 'Twas there he kindly gave my steers again 
 To own the yokp, ray herds to graze the plain. 
 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 O, happy sire, for you your fields remain, 
 For you, shall plenty smile along your plain ; 
 Although the marshy bulrush overspread. 
 And flinty rocks clothe o'er the neighbouring mead ; 
 12 
 
90 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Yet shall no dire contagion waste your flock, 
 
 Nor noxious food the pregnant kine provoke. 
 
 Fortunate man ! what pleasures on you wait ; 
 
 Here, where the well known river winds its flood, 
 
 Where sacred groves embower a cool retreat, 
 
 Where gales, to fan you, breathe from every wood. 
 
 From yonder hedge, which guards the neighbouring ground. 
 
 Where Hyolean bees the willow grove surround. 
 
 Still shall their murmurs slumbering, as they creep, 
 
 O'er the closed eyelids spread the balm of sleep ; 
 
 While from yon craggy rock the pruner's song. 
 
 Your slumbers shall with pleasing dreams prolong ; 
 
 Nor shall the dove forget her coomg note, 
 
 And from the elm the turtle's musick float. 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 Sooner the stag the earth for air shall change, 
 The fish on shore retreating ocean cast ; 
 Along the Tygris' banks the German range. 
 The exiled Parthian of the Arar taste. 
 Than from my grateful breast his angel face, 
 E'en hoary Time be able to erase. 
 
 MELIBOeUS. 
 
 But, we in exile from our native lands. 
 Shall seek retreat in Africk's parching sands ; 
 To swift Oasis or to Scythia haste, 
 Or from the world to Britain's cloistered waste- 
 And must we tlius our hapless fate deplore, 
 And ne'er our eyes review our native shore ; 
 Or shall some future year restore my throne. 
 The lowly cot, those meadows once my own ? 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. ^1 
 
 And shall the impious soldier seize my field ? 
 
 For the barbarian shall the harvest yield 
 
 Its annual products ? Ah ! what horrid wars, 
 
 And scenes of misery spring from civil jars ? 
 
 For whom have I beneath the sultry sun 
 
 Thus tilled my ground ? the labour's all that's mine. 
 
 Go, Meliboeus, haste, your pear-trees jirune^ 
 
 In beauteous order plant the tender vine ; 
 
 Go, my once happy, now deserted flock, 
 
 No more beneath the verdant grot I lay^ 
 
 Nor tiew you grazing on the craggy rock, 
 
 No more upon my rural pipe I'll play ; 
 
 No more shall you upon the hillock's top, 
 
 The flowery shrub or bitter osier crop. 
 
 TITYRUS. 
 
 With me at least to night lay by your care. 
 We can for you a bed of leaves prepare ; 
 With ripened apples, which the fields afford, 
 Chestnuts and milk we'll store the frugal board. 
 Now the blue vapours o'er the liills arise, 
 And smokes from village chimneys paint the skies. 
 Now setting Phoebus meets his western bed, 
 And from the hills the lengthening shadows spread. 
 
92 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 ®F THE TENTH ODE, SECOND BOOK OF HORACE. 
 
 Addressed to Licinius. 
 
 If o'er life's sea your bark you'd safely guide, 
 Trust not the svirges of its stomny tide ; 
 And while you dread the tempest's horrid roar, 
 Avoid those shoals, which threaten from the shore. 
 
 The happy few, who choose the golden mean, 
 Free from the tattered garb, the cell obscene, 
 From all the woi'ld's gay pageantry aloof, 
 Spurn the rich trappings of the envied roof. 
 
 The stately ship, which cuts the glassy wave, 
 Is oftener tossed than skiffs, when tempests rave : 
 The tower, whose lofty brow sustains the sky. 
 With greater ruin tumbles from on high : . 
 The lightning's bolt, with forky vengeance red, 
 Vents its first fury on the mountain's head. 
 
 The mind, where Wisdom deigns her genial light, 
 Led by the star of Hope in adverse night, 
 Fortune's gay sunshine never can elate— 
 Dauntless, prepared to meet the frovms of Fate. 
 
 'Tis Jove who bids the dashing tempest swell, 
 And the bright sun the stormy clouds dispel. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 93 
 
 If o'er your paths clouds now should cast a gloom, 
 Soon will the scene in brighter prospects bloom : 
 Apollo does not always strike the lyre, 
 Nor bid the arrow from his bow aspii'e. 
 
 When raging grief and poverty appear, 
 Strengthen thy sickening heart, and banish fear. 
 When you are wafted by a prosperous gale. 
 Learn wisely to contract the swelling sail. 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 OF THE FIFTH ODE, FIRST BOOK OF HORACE 
 Addressed to the courtezan Pyrrha. 
 
 W HO, fair Pyrrha, wins thy graces ? 
 
 What gay youth imprints a kiss ? 
 Or in roseate groves embraces 
 
 Urging thee to amorous bliss ? 
 
 To delude to your caresses 
 
 What young rake, or wanton blade, 
 
 Do you bind your golden tresses, 
 In plain elegance arrayed ? 
 
 Soon the unhappy youth, deploring. 
 
 Shall lament thy proud disdain ; 
 Thus, the winds, tempestuous roaring, 
 
 Rend the bosom of the main. 
 
94 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 He, who's now thy beauty prizing, 
 In thy smiles supremely blest, 
 
 Dreams not of the storm that's rising, 
 To distui'b his peaceful breast. 
 
 Misery's sharpest pang he suflfers, 
 Who, secure from all alarms, 
 
 Like all thy deluded lovers, 
 Clasped a serpent in his arms. 
 
 Once, thy deep intrigues unknowing, 
 I embarked upon the deep j 
 
 Boisterous storms, dread horrors blowing, 
 Roused me from lethargick sleep. 
 
 Billows were around me roaring, 
 When great Neptune's friendly aid, 
 
 Me to Rome again restoring, 
 There my grateful vows I paid. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 ON RECEIVING A FROWN FROM CYNTHIA. 
 
 A GLOOMY cloud in heaven appears, 
 
 And shrouds the solar ray ; 
 All Nature droops, and bursts in tears. 
 
 And mourns the loss of day. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 95 
 
 What wrath has sent the tempest down 
 
 To gloom the azure sky ? 
 Lo ! Cynthia's mien assumes a frown, 
 
 And Colin heaves a sigh ! 
 
 Yes, Cynthia frowns ! — ^in mourning clad 
 
 Young Colin seeks the plain, 
 And there in silent sorrow sad, 
 
 Sighs, weeps, and sighs again. 
 
 Ah ! luckless hour ! the lover cries ; 
 
 Vain Hope ! no more beguile ! 
 Ah ! seek no more, in Cynthia's eyes 
 
 The sunbeam of her smile ! 
 
 Once in the days of happier fate, 
 
 In smiles she tripped the lea ; 
 But I, with fondest pride elate. 
 
 Thought all those smiles for me. 
 
 Where once benignant beams were shed, 
 
 Now sad displeasure lowers : 
 On Colin's fond, devoted head, 
 
 The storm, dark rollmg, showers. 
 
 The fount of grief has now grown dry, 
 
 And tears no more can flow ; 
 No more can trickle from the eye, 
 
 The streams of mental woe. 
 
 Cynthia, behold a captive heart; 
 
 Its real anguish see. 
 Transcending all descriptive art ; 
 
 It bleeds alone by thee ! 
 
96 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 So deep a wound can never close, 
 The heart cannot endure, 
 
 You opened all its bleeding woes. 
 And you alone can cure. 
 
 Then deign a gentle smile of grace ; 
 
 On Colin's bosom shine ; 
 And, raptured at so fair a face, 
 
 Elysium will be mine I 
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 OF THE NINTH ODE, THIRD BOOK, OF HORACE. 
 
 Dialogue between Horace and Lydia. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 W HEN no fond rival's favoured arms 
 With rapture clasped thy snowy charms ; 
 When but to me thy smile was given 
 It warmed me like the smile of heaven. 
 Thus blest, I envied not the state 
 Of Persia's monarch rich and great. 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 When Lydia' s smile allured thee more 
 Than Chloe's sweet seducing power, 
 Then did the cords of love unite 
 Our hearts in mutual delight ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 9? 
 
 Then so revered was Lydia's name, 
 I envied not great Ilia's fame ! 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 The Cressian Chloe now detains 
 My soul in fascinating chains : 
 She tunes the harp's melodious strings, 
 But with much sweeter musick sings : 
 Could dying snatch my love from deatli, 
 How gladly would I yield my breath ! 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 Me, Calais, to love inspires ; 
 Our bosoms glow with gentlest iires. 
 In him has every graced combined — 
 But, oh ! what charms adorn his nfiind ! 
 I twice the pangs of death would bear, 
 If Fate my Calais would spare ! 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Say, what if former love aspire. 
 And glow witli an intenser fire ? 
 Say, what if Chloe's charms I spurn- 
 Will Lydia to my arms return. 
 And bid the Paphian queen again 
 Unite us with a stronger chain ? 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 Though light as cork, your passions reign, 
 And rougher than the raging main ; 
 Though Calais by far outvies 
 The great enlightener of the skies ; 
 Yet from his eager love I fly. 
 To live with you, with you to die ! 
 
98 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 THE LAURELLED NYMPH. 
 
 Addressed to Philenia. 
 
 VV HERE famed Parnassus' lofty summits rise, 
 With garlands wreathed, and seem to prop the skies, 
 There bloomed the groves, where once the tuneful choir 
 In boldest numbers waked the sounding lyre. 
 Fast by the mount descends the sacred spring, 
 Whose magick waters taught the world to sing. 
 Hence men, inspired, first tuned the rural strain. 
 And sung of shepherds and the peaceful plain. 
 The beauteous virgin and Idalian grove. 
 And all the pains and all the sweets of love ; 
 But soon the Muse, with glowing rapture fired. 
 Seized the bold clarion, and the world inspired j 
 To arms, to arms, resounds from either pole, 
 Steels every breast, and man's each daring soul. 
 Wide Havock reigned ; the world with tumult shook ; 
 Thick lightnings glared, and muttering thunders broke / 
 The boisterous passions waged continual Avars ; 
 The sun grew pale, and terror seized the stars. 
 But, hark ! soft musick floats upon the gale ! 
 'Tis Harmony herself, who chants the tale ! 
 A strain so sweet, so elegantly terse. 
 Joined with such lofty majesty of verse. 
 Arrests Apollo's song-enraptui^ed ear, 
 A nobler carol, than his own, to hear. 
 The astonished muses cease their feebler song ; 
 No more the tabor charms the village throng ; 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 99 
 
 The aerial tribe in air suspend their wings ; 
 All Nature's hushed ; for lo, Philenia suigs ! 
 Pliilenia sings, and sings the soldier's toil, 
 Blest with the lovely virgin's generous smile. 
 The bards of old, who sung of wars and loves, 
 Of iron ages, and Arcadian groves, 
 Around Philenia's brow the laurel twine, 
 And vie in honouring genius so divine. 
 Hence, if in after age a bard should hope 
 To gain those tints which grace the verse of Pope ; 
 In Sorrow's gently sympathizing flow. 
 To make each bosom feel another's woe ; 
 Or Virtue's heavenly portrait to display, 
 In the full light of beauty's golden ray j 
 To sing of patriots in the martial strife. 
 The gallant soldier and heroick chief ; 
 To paint in colours that can never fade ; 
 Let him invoke Philenia to his aid. 
 Her smile shall bid these varied charms expand, 
 As vernal flowers by gentlest zephyrs fanned. 
 In her bold lines may admiration see 
 Impartial Justice rule the fair decree. 
 Not, like the sun, whose lustre shines on all, 
 Do her diffusive panegyricks fall, 
 Wliile Faction's idols meet repulsive shame. 
 The wandering outcasts from the dome of Fame ; 
 The patriot glories in his laurel crown. 
 Decked with the deathless verdure of renown. 
 To adulation's favming scribes belong, 
 , With guile to captivate the giddy throng ; 
 To rend from Honour's brow his laureat plume ; 
 To trample down the generous stateman's tomb ; 
 
100 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 To gild with servile Flattery's dazzling beam, 
 
 The imperial meteor of a baseless dream. 
 
 But when Philenia charms the listening throng, 
 
 'Tis Virtue's praise inspires the noble song, 
 
 Her Muse, who oft her venturous bark had rode, 
 
 On Learning's wide, immeasurable flood. 
 
 Whose crowded canvass touched at every shore, 
 
 New minres of golden letters to explore ; 
 
 In Fancy's loom Pierian webs hath wrought. 
 
 Decked with the varied pearls of splendid thought ; 
 
 Perennial roses round the work appear, 
 
 And all the beauties of the vernal year. 
 
 She, like a Newton, in poetick skies, 
 
 Shall e'er on Fame's triumphant pinions rise. 
 
 When Death's cold slumbers shall have sealed that eye, 
 
 Whose radiant smiles with solar splendours vie ; 
 
 When that warm tongue, from which such musick flows, 
 
 Shall in the tomb in quietude repose ; 
 
 Thy deathless name through Envy's clouds shall burst, 
 
 And bafile hoary Time's corroding rust. 
 
 Then those fair portraits, which thy nause has drawn, 
 
 Wliich the long gallery of Fame adorn., 
 
 Through Nature's fated barriers shall break, 
 
 Start into life, and all thy praises speak. 
 
fJOLLEGE EXERCISES. 101 
 
 ODE TO COMPASSION, 
 
 All hail, divine Compassion ! see 
 Low at thy shrine, my bended knee ! 
 Lend to my verse thy melting glow, 
 
 And all the tender plaintiveness of woe ! 
 
 The man who feels when others grieve, 
 And loves the wretched to relieve, 
 
 Enjoys more true delight, 
 Than he, who in the fields of war 
 Triumphant rolls liis thundering car, 
 
 And gains the laurels of the fight ! 
 Than he, whom shouting realms proclaim. 
 The victor of mankind, the boast of Fame. 
 
 Sweet Compassion ! noblest friend ; 
 From thy native skies descend ; 
 Gently breathing through the heart. 
 All thy tender warmth impart ! 
 Lure us from the gloomy cell, 
 Where Indifference loves to dAvell ! 
 Come with Truth, celestial maid, 
 In her brightest robes arrayed ; 
 And with Bliss, delightful prize, 
 Blessing our enraptured eyes ! 
 
 Behold I the heavens of heavens unbar 
 Their golden portals wide ; 
 
102 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 In glory clad, thy train appear ; 
 
 Upon the spheres they ride. 
 Pleased with a Howard's glorious fame. 
 
 Thou comest from realms above, 
 To kindle at his tomb the flame 
 
 Of universal love ; 
 To crown with wreaths of endless bloom, 
 
 And joy, that never fades, 
 The man, whose heavenly paths illume 
 
 Misfortune's dreary shades. 
 
 Welcome, on earth, thy golden reign ! 
 Now hideous vice, and tottering pain 
 
 Shall quickly flee away. 
 
 As hills of snow in face of day 
 In winter their high heads display ; 
 But, melted by the vernal beams. 
 Their mass dissolves in liquid streams : 
 
 So by thy genial ray 
 
 Inspired, the frozen cheek of woe 
 Shall feel soft Rapture's pleasing glow, 
 
 And tears of joy around the world shall flow. 
 
 THE GOLDEN AGE. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM OVId's METAMORPHOSES. 
 
 W HEN Faith and Honesty with willing hand. 
 Swayed the blest sceptre of the smiling land. 
 Then bloomed the Golden Age ; then all mankind 
 Beneath the bowers of sweet content reclined. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 103 
 
 No brazen records kept the crowd in awe, 
 
 For innocence supplied the want of law ; 
 
 No conscious guilt disturbed each peaceful bower, 
 
 No fierce tribunal grasped despotick power, 
 
 Nor pale Revenge pursued with endless Ayrath ; 
 
 But peace with flowers bestrewed life's rugged path. 
 
 The lofty pine, which crowned the mountain's brow, 
 
 Where clouds of green around the horizon flow, 
 
 Had not yet sought the distant world t' explore ; 
 
 Nor heai'd the ocean's wild tumultuous roar. 
 
 Ambition had not yet inflamed mankind. 
 
 Within their cots by sweet content confined. 
 
 War's ruthless hand had not the rampart raised, 
 
 No hostile standards o'er the meadows blazed, 
 
 No threatening clarions taught the field to bleed, 
 
 Nor brazen horns aroused the martial steed. 
 
 No savage sword cut short the vital breath, 
 
 Nor glittermg helmets braved the approach of death. 
 
 In soft delight, far from the din of arms, 
 
 The world reposed, secure from all alarms ; 
 
 No shining share the fertile vallies tore. 
 
 Spontaneous earth her rich luxuriance bore ; 
 
 Divine Content, whose charms ne'er fail to please. 
 
 Fed on the fruits, which bent the labouring trees. 
 
 The smiling berries, which on mountains glowed. 
 
 Or blush beneath the bi-ambles on the road, 
 
 The sacred acorn, shaken by the wind. 
 
 Supplied the daily wants of all mankind. 
 
 Unceasing spring breathed fragrance round their bowers, 
 
 And soft Zephyrus fanned spontaneous flowers. 
 
 The earth untilled, with smiling fruitage glowed, 
 
 And round the fields the yellow harvest flowed. 
 
104 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 The heavenly nectar from the skies was showered ; 
 And streams of milk along the meadows poured ; 
 The verdant oak with honey bathed the plain, 
 And blest Content prolonged the golden reign. 
 
 Addressed to Hamot, who presented the author with a bunch of roses, saying, 
 she had preserved them a long while, and that they were the fairest of the 
 
 OUCH bounteous flowerets from so fair a hand, 
 
 The wannest thanks from Friendship's pen demand ; 
 
 Ere yet the expanding buds perfumed the air, 
 
 Blest with the nurture of thy tender care, 
 
 The bloom they copied of celestial grace. 
 
 The lovely pictures of thy lovelier face. 
 
 Thine are those tints, which charm the admiring eye ; 
 
 Thine the fair lustre of each fragrant dye. 
 
 On the free bounty of thy smile they live, 
 
 And to the world their borrowed splendour give- 
 
 Thus planets glitter on the robe of night, ' 
 
 And from the sun receive their silver light. 
 
 The flower, which blooms beneath the vernal ray, 
 
 Owes all its beauty to the orb of day ; 
 
 For though the lily boasts its spotless form, 
 
 Yet Sol's pure lustre gave it every charm. 
 
 Thus mildly brilliant those effulgent eyes, 
 
 Which bade the fainting rose m bloom to rise, 
 
 Which each in Beauty's sky a golden sun, 
 
 Claim all those plaudits, which the rose has won. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 105 
 
 Then, Rapture, cease on Harriot's gift to gaze, 
 And, Admiration, hold thy eager praise I 
 For though e'en Justice this encomium deigns, 
 That in its charms her faint resemblance reigns, 
 Yet while her tongue such lavish praise bestows, 
 In her, in her we view a fairer rose. 
 
 VERSES 
 
 TO A "YOUNG LADY, LATELY RECOVERED FROM SICKNESS. 
 
 W iTji gloomy clouds of dismal dread, 
 
 The horizon sullenly is bound ; 
 The sun, obscured, weeps through the shade ; 
 The zephyrs mourn along the ground, 
 Where Darkness reigns, 
 Where Woe's sad strains 
 Wind o'er the plains. 
 
 Vaulted with Terror's sable veil, ^ 
 
 Fringed with the sunbeam's glossy hue. 
 Deep lies the solitary vale, 
 
 Where round the grove a rural crew. 
 In smiling throng, 
 With sweetest song. 
 Charm Time along. 
 14 
 
 m 
 
106 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 Thus seated in the breezy shade, 
 
 Before them in the winding vale, 
 Appeared a sweetly pensive maid. 
 Whose silence spoke the melting tale 
 Of one, who trod 
 From Health's abode, 
 Misfortune's road. 
 
 From her sad eye the tear of grief. 
 Unknown, gushed silently along ; 
 The swains were moved to her relief, 
 And Pity Avept amid the throng. 
 They thought their eyes, 
 Saw, in disguise, 
 One from the skies. 
 
 Lovely, as Morn, who weeps in dews ; 
 Mild as the fragrant breath of Even ; 
 Though streams of woe her eyes suffuse, 
 She shone the silver queen of heaven. 
 Dian her guide, 
 Fair Beauty's pride 
 In sense outvied. 
 
 While thus the swains, in rapture's trance, 
 
 Her lonely wandering steps surveyed, 
 Two seraphs on the wing advance, 
 Contendhig for the heaven-born maid. 
 So great the prize. 
 That e'en the skies 
 Viewed with surprise ! 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 10/ 
 
 One of the seraphs thus began : 
 
 " My name is Fame ; on earth I sway ; 
 " The glory, pride, and boast of man, 
 
 " The world's proud kings my voice obey. 
 " From pole to pole, 
 " My glories roll ; 
 " I rule the whole. 
 
 " Long have I made yon fair my pride, 
 
 " The brightest gem my crown adorned ; 
 " Her name Oblivion's power defied, 
 " And all his low attempts has scorned. 
 " Forbear your claim, 
 " Ne'er will her name 
 " Descend from Fame. 
 
 " But say, if you can boast to share 
 
 " The affections of yon turtle dove, 
 " Why, with the storms of bleak despair, 
 " Do you afflict her from above ? 
 " To force is vain ; 
 " Where'er I reign, 
 " No slaves complain." 
 
 The angel sent from heaven replied ; 
 
 " We doom the fair to Mercy's road, 
 " To wean her love from mortal pridcj 
 " To bliss supreme in heaven's abode. 
 " To heaven restore, 
 " A mind too pure 
 " For earth's wild shore. 
 
t08 COLLEGE EXERCISES, 
 
 " Angels with envious eyes have seen, 
 
 " Earth in her smiles supremely blest." 
 
 He spoke ; the swains beheld the scene, 
 
 And admiration swelled each breast. 
 
 Sweet queen of worth, 
 
 Heaven gave to earth 
 
 Thy angel birth ! 
 
 Loud echo rent the joyful skies: 
 
 " Sweet visitant, with us remain ; 
 " Where'er you smile, Misfortune flies, 
 " And Heaven enraptures all the plain. 
 " Hail, to thee. Fame ; 
 " Long may'st thou claim 
 " The virtuous dam.e 1" 
 
 They sung ; the cloudy mists retire ; 
 The azure skies in smiles expand ; 
 Burst through the clouds, the solar fire 
 Flamed in wide lustre round the land. 
 From sickly fears 
 The fair appears. 
 Hail, golden years ! 
 
 TEANSLATED FROM SAPPHO. 
 
 W ELL may the happy youth rejoice, 
 Who, to thy arms a welcome guest, 
 Hears the soft musick of thy voice, 
 And on thy smiles may freely yccs^, 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. * 109 
 
 As gods above, securely blest, 
 
 He envies not the throne of Jove ; 
 Endeai'ing graces win his breast. 
 
 And sweetly charm him into love. 
 
 Ah, adverse fate ! unhappy hour 1 
 
 With horror, at thy form I start ! 
 My faltermg tongue forgets its power, 
 
 And struggling passions rend the heart I 
 
 Quick flames enkindle in my veins ; 
 
 Impervious clouds my eyes surround ; 
 Deep sighs I heave ; wild Frenzy reigns ; 
 
 My ears with dismal murmurs sound ! 
 
 My colour,»like the lily, fades ; 
 
 Rude tremours seize my tlirobbing frame ; 
 A gelid sweat my limbs pervades, 
 
 And strives to quench the vital flame ;. 
 My quivering pulse forgets to play ; 
 Enraged, confused, I faint away ! 
 
 ODE TO WINTER. 
 
 JN o fragrance fills the playful breeze ; 
 
 No flowers the fields adorn : 
 But bare and leafless are the trees. 
 
 And dreary is the latvn. 
 For bliss-destroying Winter reigns, 
 
 The Lapland tyrant of the plains. 
 
110 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 The crystal lakes unruffled stream. 
 With face serene, as even, 
 
 Whose surface in the solar beam, 
 Shone with the smile of heaven ; 
 
 Chilled by cold Winter's frigid sway, 
 
 Reflect no more the face of day ! 
 
 The nymphs no long-er trip the field, 
 Nor, from the crowded green, 
 
 Fly, in some grove to lie concealed, 
 Yet hope their flight was seen. 
 
 No more, amid the sylvan dance, 
 
 Smiles I'ound the soul-subduing glance I 
 
 And sylvan Pleasure's voice is hushed : 
 And the sweet I'oseate dye, 
 
 Which on the cheek of Nature blushed. 
 No more delights the eye. 
 
 Oh 1 thus the cheek of Beauty fades. 
 
 When wintry age its bloom pervades ! 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. HI 
 
 A SONG. 
 
 THE LASS OF EDEN GROVE. 
 
 In Eden grove there dwells a maid, 
 
 Adorned by every grace ; 
 The pearls, that deck the dewy shade, 
 Fairer confess her face. 
 
 The sun has spots, the rose has thorns, 
 
 And poisons mix with love ; 
 But every spotless charm adorns 
 The Lass of Eden grove. 
 
 The sparkling, soft, cerulean eye ; 
 
 Bright Virtue's starry zone ; 
 The smile of Spring's Favonian sky ; 
 
 These charms are all her own. 
 
 The sun has spots, &c. 
 
 The frozen veins of age have felt 
 
 New youth in Eden grove ; 
 Her smiles, like spring, the frost can melt, 
 
 And warm the heart with love. 
 
 The sun has spots, Sec. 
 
 The monarch quits his dazzling throne, 
 
 And seeks her rural lot, 
 To find in her a richer crown ; 
 
 A palace in a cot ! 
 
 The sun has spots, &c. 
 
112 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 While toy-enamoured eyes admire 
 
 The gaudy bubble, Fame ; 
 Her virtues brighter joys inspire, 
 
 And softer honours claim. 
 
 The sun has spots. Sec. 
 
 Her charms the noblest laurel prove, 
 
 The hero's meed outshine ; 
 And round the brow of faithful love, 
 
 Perennial garlands twine. 
 
 The sun has spots, &c. 
 
 When Cupid all his darts has hurled, 
 
 From her he draws supplies. 
 And Hymen's flambeau lights the world 
 
 From her resplendent eyes. 
 
 The sun has spots. Sec, 
 
 To her, sweet nymph, the captive soul, 
 
 Pours forth its votive lay ; 
 'Tis bliss to own her soft control ; 
 'Tis rapture, to obey. 
 
 The sun has spots, the rose has thorns, 
 
 And poisons mix with love ; 
 But every- spotless charm adorns 
 The Lass of Eden grove. 
 
PART II. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 15 
 
MOT£. 
 
 In this Division of the 'work will be found most of the 
 Pieces') firoduced by Mr. Paine , on various occasions.^ from 
 July 1792, tvhen he took his first degree, till a short tiine before 
 his death, with the exception of the regular Poems<) Odes, and 
 Songs, which will form a series by themselves. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 EDWIN AND EMMA, 
 
 AN EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 xIail, to the natal hour of nuptial joy, 
 
 When life, from Nature's second birth, begins ; 
 
 When the fond lover, and the damsel coy. 
 
 Are born in wedlock, Love's connubial twins ! 
 
 Ingenuous Edwin ! whom pale Envy'syro^yn, 
 For thee half-brightened to a smile, applauds ; 
 
 Who, mid the leaves of Harvard's bay-wrought crowilj 
 Entwin'st the wreath, which female taste awards. 
 
 Enchanting Emma, whose translucent face, 
 
 Like heaven's expanse, a ground work was designed. 
 
 Where Nature's hand her brightest gems might place, 
 To shine a picture o£the perfect mind. 
 
 filest, favoured pair, of rival charms the pride, 
 By Fortune nursed, by gay Refinement bred ; 
 
 Unconscious Beauty, modest Worth allied. 
 By Cupid's hand to Hymen's temple led. 
 
116 EDWIN AND EMMA. 
 
 Whate'er in Love's bright landscape charmed your view. 
 
 May you, in sweet reality, enjoy ; 
 Feel all, that Hope of rapture ever drew ; 
 
 Live all, that Fancy ever dreamt of joy ! 
 
 When man primaeval walked with parent Heaven, 
 Eden his table crowned, and Eve his bed ; 
 
 But, when by Fate's sad alternation driven. 
 He chose the bride, and from the garden fled. 
 
 More happy Edwin ! 'tis thy lot assigned, 
 Not, Adam-like, to waver which to leave ; 
 
 But, favoured youth, to find them both combined, 
 Thy Eve, an Eden ; and thy Eden, Eve ! 
 
 Auspicious union ! with thy silken sweets, 
 
 Should sensual life her sackcloth joys compare ; 
 
 The best morceau, that Epicurus eats. 
 Is but a tear-wet crust— a beggar's fare ! 
 
 Lo ! o'er yon night-wrapped precipice afar, 
 Gay, smiling, lingers Love's benignant queen ' 
 
 There, rapt in ecstacy, she checks her car, 
 To feast her eyes upon the bridal scene I 
 
 A scene, so bright, that well might choirs above 
 
 Envy the lavish bliss, to mortals given ; 
 Pant for the raptures of connubial love, 
 
 And wish, that wedlock was no sin in heaven I 
 
 Oh, happy pair, to every blessing born I 
 
 For you, may life's calm stream, unruffled, run ; 
 
 For you, its roses bloom, " without a thorn," 
 And bright as morning, shine its evening sun ! 
 
EDWIN AND EMMA. 11 f 
 
 Yours be each joy, that egsy affluence brings ; 
 
 Each tranquil pleasure, that esteem can prove ; 
 Each tender bliss, that from Aff"ection springs, 
 
 And all the thrilling luxuries of love. 
 
 May not a tear in Emma's eyelid melt, 
 
 But that, which flows to meet her Edwin's kiss 5 
 May not a throb in Edwin's breast be felt. 
 
 But that, which palpitates for Emma's bliss ! 
 
 And when life's drama, like some worn out toy, 
 No more shall dazzle with its wonted charms ; 
 
 Like old Ancliises from the flames of Troy, 
 May Age retire in young Affection's anns ! 
 
 Soft as the ringdove breathes her dying coo, 
 
 Serene, as Hesper gleams the dusky heath, 
 Be Emma's sigh, that wafts the world adieu ; 
 
 Be Edwin's smile that gilds the lip of death. 
 
 But, Penseroso, hvish thy dirge-toned string ! 
 
 Each sprightly note should trill a fuge of mirth ; 
 And, ere their souls to yon bright skies you wing-i 
 
 Let them enjoy a prior heaven on earth I 
 
118 A MONODY TO THE 
 
 A MONODY, 
 
 T*0 THE MEMORY OF W. H. BROWN- 
 
 IT ALE sleeps the moonbeam on the shadowy surf ; 
 
 Lorn to the gale, elegiack willows wave ; 
 Cold-glistenuig, fall the night-dews on the tm-f ; 
 
 And Nature leans upon her Pollio's grave. 
 
 Clouds veil the moon — 'tis Nature garbed in woe ; 
 
 The willow droops — 'tis plaintive Nature sighs ; 
 The night-dews fall — ^they are the tears, that flow 
 
 On Pollio's flower-wreathed urn, from Nature's eyes. 
 
 Yes ! — he was doating Nature's favourite son ; 
 
 The fostering muses fondly nursed the child ; 
 His infant prattle into numbers run., 
 
 And Genius, from his opening eyelids, smiled. 
 
 In life maturing, Fancy's attick germ 
 
 The stalk of judgment with its blossoms graced j 
 Nor feared corroding Envy's latent worm, 
 
 The fi'ost of criticks, nor the drought of taste. 
 
 At length full beamed the summer" of his prime ; 
 
 No fixed star — a rolling sun, he shone ; 
 Now glanced his rays on Beauty's temperate clime ; 
 
 Now flamed his orb o'er Gi-andeur's toriid zone. 
 
MEMORY OF W. H. BROWN. 119 
 
 As burnt the bush to Moses' raptured gaze, 
 
 Nor lost its verdure 'mid the flame divine ; 
 Thus bloomed his song in rhetorick's splendid blaze, 
 
 Nor drooped the vigour of his nervous line. 
 
 With charms to move, with dignity to awe, 
 
 His tragick muse the lyre of pathos strung ; 
 Loud wailed the horrors of fraternal war. 
 
 And dying Andre* struggled on her tongue. 
 
 la either eye, a liquid mirror moved ; 
 
 A tender ray illumed each crystal sphere ; 
 While thus she sung the hapless chief beloved. 
 
 His life, the smile received— his fate, the tear. 
 
 With features, formed the moral laugh to hit, 
 
 Thalia knew his useful scene to frame ; 
 And, scorning ribaldry, that trull of wit, 
 
 Preserved the chastity of lettered fame. 
 
 Ithaca'sf queen, his comick pencil drew, 
 
 Whomi suitor-hosts, so long, in vain, adored ; 
 
 Who, to the widowed bed of wedlock true. 
 Lived Sorrow's nun at riot's festive board. 
 
 His prose, like song, without its numbers, glowed ; 
 
 Correctly negligent, with judgment bold : 
 Here reasoned sentiment, there humour flowed ; 
 
 Now flashed the thought, and now the period rolled. 
 
 * Mr. Brown chose this unfortunate Officer for the hei'o of a tragedy, which 
 received the highest approbation of many gentlemen of taste. 
 
 •j- He wrote a comedy, entitled Penelope^ in the style of the West-Indian. 
 
J20 A MONODY, 5cc. 
 
 Swift, as the light to Nature's suburbs wings ; 
 
 Quick, as the wink of Heaven's electrick eye ; 
 Lo ! PoUio's muid, with subtle vigour, springs ; 
 
 And volumes, sketched in thoughts, perspective lie« 
 
 Not Cato-Iike, a miser of applause, 
 He loved the genius, that eclipsed his own ; 
 
 Nor dreamt, like Johnson, that by Nature's laws, 
 He reigned the Sultan of the classick throne. 
 
 To censure, modest-^generous, to commend j 
 To veteran bards he left of taste the van ; 
 
 A keen eyed critick — still, a tender friend ; 
 An idol'd poet — -but, a modest man. 
 
 Such Pollio was !— .but heaven, with hand divine, 
 Deducts in peiiod, what it adds in boon ; 
 
 Life's April day, with brighter beams, may shine, 
 But meets a sunset, in a cloud, at noon. 
 
 Felt ye the gale ? — It was the Sirock blast, 
 
 That spreads o'er burning climes Death's gelid sleep ! 
 
 Hear ye that groan ? 'tis dying Pollio's last ; 
 
 And Friendship, Genius, Virtue, speechless, weep ! 
 
 " Oh, Pollio, Pollio !" — all Parnassus cries !— 
 Their breasts the grief-delirious muses beat ; 
 
 Torn from their brows^ the witheruig garland dies ; 
 And drooping groves this funeral dirge repeat ; 
 
 " Lamented Pollio, o'er thy sacred tomb, 
 '* The laurel-sprig we plant, the turf to shade ; 
 
 " Bathed by our tears, its spreading boughs shall bloom, 
 " 'Till Fame's most verdant amaranths shall fade ! 
 
SELF-COMPLACENCY. 121 
 
 " No towering marble marks thy humble dust, 
 " Yet there shall oft our pensive choir repair ; 
 
 " Thy modest grave can boast no sculptured bust, 
 " Yet Nature stands a weeping statue there 1" f 
 
 With these verses Mr. Paine concludes a prose Essay on t!ie Pleasures of 
 SELF-COMPLACENCY. 
 
 JjET no rude Care, with anxious thoughts, invade, 
 Nor print her footstep in my chosen shade ! 
 O'er the wide world I've traced the tour of day, 
 Where restless Love has taxight my feet to stray ; 
 If Anna's taste this favourite spot approve, 
 I'll drop the Scythian, and forget to rove. 
 All hail, ye deserts, bend a pitying ear, 
 A sound unknown, a human voice to hear ! 
 Wave your tall brows, to hail a stranger-guest, 
 Whose throbbing bosom seeks in you a rest. 
 Proud earth, adieu ! Your smile I ask no more, 
 Nor all your sordid, soul-contracting ore ! 
 The Syren's bowl, and pleasure's deep abyss 
 Yield to the crystal fount a tranquil bliss. 
 The purest joy will ever love to dwell 
 In the lone confines of the hermit's cell ; 
 On him the day lamp sheds its mildest beam, 
 His board the forest, and his cup the stream. 
 Like him, the menial arts of life forsook, 
 To hold pure converse with the babbling brook ; 
 16 
 
122 SELF-COMPLACENCY. 
 
 Here let me rove amid these wild retreats. 
 The bee of Nature's yet mitasted sweets j, 
 Here let my feet, o'erwearied, find repose. 
 My head a pillow, and my griefs a close ! 
 The simple pleasures of uncultured earth 
 Can please no palate of exotick birth ; 
 Lost is the social fire, with all its joys, 
 Lost is the splendid dome, with all its toys. 
 A long adieu ! to all the world calls great, 
 Fame's glittering baubles, and the pomp of state 1 
 Tar from the tumults of the roaring sea. 
 The waves of Fortune roll no more for me. 
 Far from the vultures of corroding strife, 
 And all the senseless butterflies of life, 
 Here have I flown to trace new soils of bliss, 
 And clasp rude Nature in her loose undress £■ 
 Her naked graces Rapture's throb impart, 
 And spurn the pencil and the veil of ait. 
 Beauty ne'er blushed, of harmless man afraid. 
 Nor asked a fig-leaf in the secret shade. 
 Oft in the modish circle, have I seen 
 The thoughtless canvass of a pictured mien ; 
 And grown genteel, by Fashion's dire constraints, 
 The well-laced spider in a hectick faints. 
 Art can but mimick ; Heaven alone must give 
 That innate force, by which the graces live. 
 The form and colour artists oft disclose. 
 But who has sketched the fragrance of the rose ? 
 Ye dames, ambitious of applauding eyes, 
 Shall vile cosmeticks tempt the dubious prize ? 
 Refine the heart, nor stoop to arts so base ; 
 Sense never sparkled in a painted face I 
 
SELF-COMPLACENCY. 123 
 
 Mine be the nymph, whom native charms adorn ; 
 
 Who looks on Fashion's painted mask with scorn j 
 
 Who never spread the Syren's artful guise 
 
 To chain attention, or entrance sui'prise ; 
 
 Who ne'er would wish the rising scale of fame, 
 
 If she, ascending, sunk a sister's name ; 
 
 Who never heard, without a kindling glow, ** 
 
 The boast of Virtue's too successful foe. 
 
 Such be the fair, to whom my hopes wouM rise, 
 
 Whose soul gives language to her sparkling eyes ; 
 
 Whose smile the gloomiest scene of life can cheer, 
 
 With rapture glisten, or dissolve a tear ; 
 
 Whose charms with softness clothe her modest r 'in. 
 
 As light pellucid, and as heaven sferene ; 
 
 Whose lovely converse sweetens every boon; 
 
 Whose cheek the morning, and whose mind the noon= 
 
 Ah I lovely Anna ! these are traits divine, 
 
 And Fancy's pencil glows with charms, like tlune ! 
 
 Come then, thou dearest, heaven-congenial maid, 
 
 And rove with me the grove, the hill and glade I 
 
 Behold those rocks of huge colossal size, 
 
 Whose cloud-girt tops appear to prop the skies ; 
 
 Like thr n, above the world, we'll soar sublime ; 
 
 Like th». i, our love shall brave the rage of Time ! 
 
 Here rich Luxuriance waves her ample wing, 
 
 And spreads a harvest mid perpetual spring ; 
 
 But ne'er can Nature's flowery charms endear, 
 
 If Anna, Nature's blossom, be not here. 
 
 Come then, my fair, and bless my lonesome houi%^ 
 
 And grace the palace arbour of the bowers. 
 
 All Nature waits my Anna to receive ; 
 
 A second Eden wants a second Eve, 
 
124 TO THE LATE THOMAS BRATTLE, ESQ. 
 
 The following Stanzas were addressed to the late Thomas Brattle, Esq. soon 
 after he had embellished his seat at Cambi'idge, in a manner highly cred- 
 itable to the taste of that worthy gentleman. 
 
 W here'er the vernal bower, the autumnal field. 
 
 The summer arbour, and the winter fire ; 
 Where'er the charms, which all the seasons yield. 
 
 Or Nature's gay museum can inspire, 
 
 Delight the bosom, or the Fancy please, 
 
 Or life exalt above a splendid dream ; 
 There, Brattle's fame shall freight the grateful breeze. 
 
 Each grove resound it, and reflect each stream. 
 
 !feach bough, that waves o'er brown Pomona's plains. 
 Each bud, that blossoms in the ambrosial bower, 
 
 Nursed by this great Improver's art, obtains 
 A nobler germin, and a fairer flower. 
 
 The rural vale a kind asylum gave. 
 
 When Peace the seats of eraiined woe forsook ; 
 
 Retirement found an Athens in a cave. 
 
 And man grew social with the babbling brook. 
 
 Here, happy Brattle, 'twas thy envied place, 
 
 In gay undress fair Nature to surprise ; 
 By Art's slight veil to heighten every grace, 
 
 And bid a Vauxhall from a marish rise. 
 
 The airy hill-top, and the Dryad's bower, 
 No more shall tempt our sportive nymphs to rove ; 
 
ADDRESSED TO MISS B. 125 
 
 This willow-shade shall woo the social hour, 
 And Brattle's mall surpass Arcadia's grove. 
 
 Fair Friendship, lovely virgin, here resort ; 
 
 Here with thy charms the joy -winged mom beguile : 
 Thy eyes shall glisten eloquence to thought. 
 
 And teach the cheek of hopeless gloom to smile. 
 
 Here too, thy modest damsels oft shall pass. 
 
 Yield a soft splendour to the evening beam, 
 Gaze at the image in the watery glass. 
 
 And blush new beauty to the flattering stream: 
 
 While the pleased Naiad, watching their return, 
 
 As oft at morn her sportive limbs she laves, 
 Hears their loved voice, and leaning on her urn, 
 
 Stops the smooth current of her silver waves. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO MISS B. 
 
 Jr ooR is the friendless master of the globe. 
 And keen the ingrate's heart-inserted probe ; 
 But keener woes that wretch is doomed to prove, 
 The poorer hermit of unfriended love ! 
 
 Oh, woman ! subtle, lovely, faithless sex ! 
 Born to enchant, thou studiest to perplex ; 
 Adored as queen, thou play'st the tyrant's part, 
 And, taught to govern, would'st enslave the heart. 
 
126 TO CLORA. 
 
 Now, cold as ice-plant, fickle as the wind, 
 Nor pity melts, nor pride can fix thy Diind ; 
 Now, warm and faithful as the cooing dove, 
 Thou breatli'st no wish, and sing'st no note, but love I 
 
 In thee has Nature such elastick power. 
 She changes seasons, as she turns the hour ; 
 In one short day, you roll through eveiy sign, 
 From Passion's tropics, to Decorum's line. 
 
 Now from above, in vertic-heat you blaze, 
 And melting stoicks half enamoured gaze ; 
 Now, dim from far your rays obliquely gleam, 
 And freeze the current of the poet's stream. 
 
 Thus, through our system, Nature's frolick child, 
 Fair woman, roves, a comet, bright and wild j 
 Supreme in art, our purblind sex she rules : 
 Wits may be lovers—lovers must be fools. 
 
 TO CLORA. 
 
 JL Hou nymph satirick, for a nymph thou art, 
 Whose varying lyre, like thy once doubtful sex, 
 Can with its tones the nicest ear peiplex, 
 
 And numb with wonder the still pondering heart I 
 
 Thou, whom Menander joys to call a nymph, 
 Whose lips have freely quaffed the sacred lymph j 
 Who erst, in sweet Eliza's lovely guise, 
 Didst bless the vision of these mental eyes. 
 
TO CLORA. 127 
 
 Thou injured maid, to gain whose secret name, 
 
 Intent I've listened with arrected ear ; 
 Patrolled the whispering gallery of Fame, v 
 
 And walked the watch-tower of the Avinds to heaf t 
 
 Thou injured maid, to thee this verse belongs ; 
 The lyre, that caused, shall expiate thy wrongs ! 
 
 When first the soft Eliza tuned her lyre. 
 
 In notes, the pathos of whose dulcet swell 
 
 Might charm a Zeno with its potent spell, 
 And the fond passion, which she felt, inspire ; 
 
 Enan;ioured Pride, from Fancy's lull-top, heard 
 The softened musick of the fluttering strain ; 
 
 While Echo, prattling like the human bird, 
 Rechanting, chanted every note again. 
 
 But Judgment, wrinkled with a frown severe, 
 
 Checked the young rapture, which thy lays inspired ; 
 Though Hope's pleased eye the page proscribed admired, 
 
 And shed upon the sweet forbidden fruit a tear. 
 
 Weak Jealousy outspread her saffron wing. 
 
 And, through the infection of the jaundiced hue, 
 
 Saw from Eliza's garb a monster spring, 
 In voice a Circe, and m poison too : 
 
 A magick chantress, from Avhose Hyblean tongue, 
 While fell the honied melody of praise, 
 Alas ! impervious to the soul's fixed gaze, 
 
 A vocal death from everv note she flune ! 
 
128 , SONNETS. 
 
 SONNET TO ELIZA. 
 
 Ah ! do the Muses, once so coy and shy, 
 
 Pursue Menander, hard as legs can lay ? 
 By Heavens, Menander swears, he will not fly. 
 
 But meet then- gentle ladyships half way ! 
 
 What ! shall this coward bard turn pale with fear, 
 When clinging round his knees these virgins lie ? 
 
 Is he afraid of drovsming in a tear, 
 Or being blown to atoms by a sigh ? 
 
 No, dear Eliza, with expanded arms 
 
 I turn to clasp the fair one that pursues ; 
 But, struck with such divinity of charms. 
 
 Shrink from alliance with so bright a muse. 
 
 Yet weep not, that from Hymen's yoke I've slipt my neck, 
 For you've escaped a bite, while I have lost a spec. 
 
 SONNET TO BELINDA. 
 
 Jtathetick chantress ! Nature's feeling child ! 
 
 Thou, like thy parent, rulest a variant sphere 
 Where Judgment ripens, Fancy blossoms wild ; 
 
 Thy page the landscape, and thy mind the year. 
 
 Oft in the rainbow's heaven-enchasing beams, , 
 Thy hand, sweet limner, many a pencil dips ; 
 
 And oft receive Pieria's sacred streams 
 New inspiration from Belinda's lips. 
 
MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 129 
 
 Pure, as the bosom of the vu^gin rose, 
 
 Blooms the rich verdure of a heart sincere ; 
 
 And e'en Belinda's smile more radiant glows, 
 Through the clear mirror of the pearly tear. 
 
 But, ah ! her lyre in hushed oblivion sleeps, 
 While Edwin mounis, and all Parnassus weeps. 
 
 During the yeai*s 1792 and 1793, Mr. Paine, beside othei* contributions to that 
 Miscellany, published in the MassRchusetts IVIagazine such pieces, as appear- 
 ed there under the signature of Meuander. As those pieces are addressed 
 to a lady whose title to the first place among our native poetesses is undis- 
 puted and indisputable ; and as, in order to understand Menander, it is indis- 
 pensably necessary, that Fhilenia may be easily consulted, no apology is 
 required for inserting Mrs. Morton's verses in this collection. The 
 first piece of this correspondence, which was originally published in the 
 Massachusetts Mercury of February, 179;i, as were also the second and third 
 pieces, alludes to a Poem entitled, " Beacon-Mill," supposed to be then 
 preparing by Philenia for the press. 
 
 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 
 
 JjLEST be the task, along the'stream of Fame, 
 To waft the Patriot's and the Plero's name ! 
 Blest be the Muse, Avhose soft Orphean breath 
 Recalls their memories from the realms of death ! 
 And blest Philenia, noblest of the choir, 
 Whose halloAved hands attune Columbia's lyre ! 
 'Tis thine to bid the deathless laurel bloom. 
 And shade departed Virtue's sacred tomb ; 
 While pruned by tliee, its loftier branches grow, 
 And yield new honours to the dust below ! 
 
130 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 
 
 'Tis thine, like Joshua, sun of Glory stand ! 
 
 And gild the urn of Freedom's martyred band ! 
 
 While in thy song, with charms illustrious, shine 
 
 Gods, shaped like men, and men, like gods, divine ! 
 
 Hail, lofty Beacon, hill of Freedom, hail I 
 
 Thy torch her herald to the distant vale ! 
 
 What various scenes, from thy commanding height. 
 
 The horizon paint — the turning eye delight ! 
 
 Loud Ocean here, with undulating roar, 
 
 Calls daring souls to worlds unknown before ; 
 
 While mazing there, like Fancy's wanton child, 
 
 Charles curls along, irregular and wild. 
 
 Here, Commerce, decked in all the wings of Time, 
 
 Courts the fleet breeze, and ranges every clime ; 
 
 There the gay villa lifts its lofty head, 
 
 The social mansion, and the humbler shed. 
 
 But nobler honours to thy fame belong, 
 
 And owe their splendour to Philenia's song. 
 
 Beacon shall live the theme of future lays ; 
 
 Philenia bids— obsequious Fame obeys. 
 
 Beacon shall live, enbalmed in verse sublime, 
 
 The new Parnassus of a nobler clime. 
 
 No more the fount of Helicon shall boast 
 
 Its peerless waters, or its suitor-host ; 
 
 To thee shall every fabled muse aspire. 
 
 And learn new musick from Pliilenia's lyre. 
 
 No more the flying steed the bard shall bear, 
 
 Through the wild regions of poetick air ; 
 
 On nobler gales of verse his wings shall rise, 
 
 While Beacon's eagle wafts him through the skieS, 
 
 'Tis here Philenia's muse begins her flight, 
 
 As Heaven elate, extensive as the light : 
 
MENANDER TO PHTLENIA. 131 
 
 Here, like this bird of Jove, she mounts the wind, 
 
 And leaves the clouds of vulgar bards behind. 
 
 Her tuneful notes, in tones naellifluous flow, 
 
 With charms more various, than the coloured bow. 
 
 Here, softly sweet, her liquid measures play. 
 
 And mildest zephyrs gently sigh away ; 
 
 There, towering numbers stalk, majestick rise, 
 
 Like ocean storm, and lighten like the skies. 
 
 While here, the gay Canary charms our ears, 
 
 There, the lom Philomel dissolves in tears. ^ 
 
 While here, the deep, grave verse slow loiters on, 
 
 There, the blythe lines in swift meanders run. 
 
 Thus to each theme responds her echoing lay; 
 
 Bold, without rashness ; without trifling, gay : 
 
 Serene, yet nervous ; easy, yet sublime ; 
 
 With modulation's unaffected chime ; 
 
 Soft, without weakness ; without frenzy, warm ; 
 
 The varying shade of Nature's varying form. 
 
 Let souls, elated by the pomp of praise, 
 
 The arch triumphal, or the busto raise ; 
 
 Bid marble, issuing into life, proclaim 
 
 Their bubble greatness in the ear of Fame ! 
 
 Gay trifles, pictured out on Glory's shore. 
 
 Which Time's first rising billow leaves no more ! 
 
 'Tis thine, Philenia, loveliest muse, to raise 
 
 A firmer monumeiit of nobler praise ! 
 
 Thou shalt survive, when Time shall whelm the bust, 
 
 And lay the pyramids of Fame in dust. 
 
 Unsoiled by years, shall thy pathetick verse 
 
 Melt Memory's eye upon the Pati'iot's hearse ; 
 
 And while each distant age and clime admire. 
 
 The funeral honours of thy epiek lyre, 
 
132 PHILENIA TO MENANDER. 
 
 What Hero's bosom would not wish to bleed, 
 That you might sing, and raptured ages read ? 
 *TiIl the last page of Nature's volume blaze, 
 Shall live the tablet, graven with thy lays ! 
 
 PHILENIA TO MENANDER. 
 
 JjLEST Poet ! whose Eolian lyre 
 Can wind the varied notes along, 
 
 While the melodious Nine inspire 
 The graceful elegance of song. 
 
 Who now with Homer's strength can rise, 
 Then Avith the polished Ovid move ; 
 
 Now swift as rapid Pindar flies, 
 
 Then soft as Sappho's breath of love. 
 
 To nobler themes attune that strain 
 Whose magick might the soul subdue, 
 
 Calm the wild frenzies of the brain. 
 And every fading hope renew. 
 
 Ne'er can my timid Muse aspire, 
 
 To wake the harp's majestick string ; 
 
 Nor with Menander's " epick" fire. 
 The deeds of godlike heroes sing. 
 
 My lute, with many a willow bound, 
 Flings the lorn pathos to the gale ; 
 
 While o'er the modulated sound, 
 The sighs of Sympathy prevail. 
 
FHILENIA TO MENAKDER. 133 
 
 'Tis for thy eagle mind to tower 
 
 Triumphant on the wing of Fame ; 
 To dash the idiot brow of Power, 
 
 And waft the Hero's laurelled name ; 
 
 To sketch the full immortal scene, 
 
 Each mental and each pictured view ; 
 Meandering Charles embowered in green, 
 
 The warrior^s turf impearled with dew ; 
 
 The hapless maid whose plighted truth, 
 
 And peerless beauties could not save 
 The brave, heroick, victim -youth, 
 
 Dishonoured by a felon-grave. 
 
 Where the red hunter chased his prey, 
 
 The hand of culturing Science reigns ; 
 Where forests arched the brow of day, 
 
 The temple lights its glittering vanes. 
 
 Such are the themes, thou minstrel blest ! 
 
 That to thy classick lyre belong, 
 While Genius fires thy passioned breast 
 
 With all the eloquence of song. 
 
 Thine be the chief, whose deeds sublime 
 
 Shall through the world's wide mansion beam, 
 
 Unsullied by the breath of Time, 
 Exhaustless as his native stream. 
 
 Divine Menander, strike the string ; 
 
 With all thy sun-like splendour shine ; 
 The deeds of godlike heroes suig, 
 
 And be the palm of Genius thine ! 
 
134 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 
 
 MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 
 
 X HE Star, that paves the blue serene, 
 Or sparkles on the brow of even, 
 
 Courts from tlie sun that lucid mien. 
 
 Which gems the glittering mine of heaven : 
 
 The breeze, that spreads its Cassia wing, 
 Pei'fumes the breath of scentless air 
 
 From rich bouquets, which jocund Spring 
 Selects from Nature's gay parterre : 
 
 Thus too, Philenia, muse supreme, 
 Whose clear, reflecting pages shine. 
 
 Like the translucent, crystal stream, 
 The mirror of a soul divine : 
 
 Thus, from thy lyre, Menander's ear 
 The song-inspired vibration caught ; 
 
 Thus, from thy hand, his temples v.'ear 
 A Avreath, which thou alone hast wrought. 
 
 To thee his muse aspired witli pride. 
 And sealed her carol with thy name, 
 
 Whose signet gave, what Heaven denied, 
 A passport at the door of Fame. 
 
 True merit shines with native light, 
 Obscurest shades ne'er cloud its blaze ; 
 
 For, diamond like, it gilds the night, 
 And dazzles with unborrowed rays. 
 
MENANDER TO PHILENIA. 13S 
 
 Hence, with a zeal of equal flame, 
 
 The world has with Philenia vied, 
 While Admiration winged her fame, 
 
 And modest Merit blushed to hide. 
 
 But, ah, thy lavish praise forbear 1 
 
 *Twere madness to believe it due ; 
 For none, but Nature's fondest care, 
 
 Deserves a glance of Fame from you. 
 
 To me no charms of verse belong ; 
 
 The tints of every classick grace, 
 Mild Contemplation, nurse of song. 
 
 Beamed from thy muse-illumined face. 
 
 When thy " lorn pathos" fills the gale. 
 
 Wild Fancy learns of Truth to weep, 
 Romance forgets her tragick tale. 
 
 And Werter lulls his griefs to sleep. 
 
 Serene, amid the bursting storm. 
 
 You check the frenzied passion's scope, 
 And, radiant as an angel form. 
 
 Smile on the death-carved urn of Hope. 
 
 Thy magick tears leave Slander mute. 
 
 They melt the Stoick heart of snow ; 
 And every willow on thy lute. 
 
 Has proved a laurel for thy brow. 
 
136 SONNET TO PHILENIA. 
 
 SONNET 
 
 TO PHILENIA, ON A STANZA, IN HER ADDRESS TO MYRA 
 
 The Stanza, which suggested this Sonnet, is highly ercomiastick on Mr. 
 Paine. It is here given from the Massachusetts Magazine of Feb. 1793. 
 
 " Since first Affliction's dreary frown 
 
 •' Gloomed the bright summer of my days, 
 " Ne'er has my bankrupt bosom known 
 
 *' A solace, like his peerless praise." 
 
 X HY " bosoiTx bankrupt !" — fair Peru divine 
 Of every mental gem, that e'er has shone, 
 
 In dazzled Fancy's intellectual mine, 
 Or ever spangled Vii'tue's radiant zone. 
 
 Thy " bosom bankrupt 1" — Nature, sooner far, 
 Shall roll, exhausted, flowerless springs away ; 
 Leave the broad eye of noon, without a ray, 
 
 And strip the path to heaven of every star. 
 
 Thy " bosom bankrupt !"— Ah, those sorrows cease, 
 Which taught us, how to weep, and how" admii'e ; 
 
 The tear, that falls to soothe thy wounded peace. 
 With rapture glistens o'er thy matchless lyre, 
 
 Ind and Golconda, in ow^Jirm combined. 
 
 Shall sooner bankrupt, than Philenia's mind. 
 
I'D MENANDER. 13 7 
 
 \ 
 
 THE COUNTRY GIRL TO MENANDER-. 
 
 V Es ! 'twas thy numbers, sailing on the breeze, » 
 Floating in rich luxuriance, 'mongst the trees, 
 That caught my ear, as heedlessly I strayed, 
 O'er the soft velvet of the verdant glade. , ♦ 
 
 ^Twas thy own trembling lyre, I knew it well, i 
 That gave the magick spring, the glowing s^^^eBij 
 That, borne on Avings seraphick, glided by,/, •i- '\ 
 And filled my soul, with richest melody. / [f U] 
 Oft, have I heard thy rapturous, treasui'edfSltroii^j ^^^^^ 
 When roving careless, 'midst th? dewy plaint ; C— -^*^ 
 Oft, has thy well known lay joyed my rapt soul, ^'^». • 
 
 When sunk unnoticed, 'neath the rising knoll ; 
 Whilst catching from afar the golden note, _„- 
 
 I've bid my praises, on the zephyrs float. 
 
 Amid thick woods, and close embowering shades, <^^ ^^^^3^ 
 
 Stupendous rocks, and verdant flowery glades, 4^ '^^^^ 
 
 I've heard thy matchless, thy resistless strains, 
 
 Whilst lilies spread them o'er the lengthening plains. *^^ 
 
 To thee unknown, except by kindred fire. 
 That taught me hovv^ to love, and how t' admire, 
 I've hailed, have sung- — aaid oft have sought to gain. 
 One sweet responsive chord, to my dull strain. 
 Lost to all thoughts, or cares, for other's lays, 
 Philenia's brow alone thou crown'st with bays ; 
 To her rich mine a monthly tribute send'st, 
 Nor to a younger vot'ry ever lend'st 
 A single warbling note of love, or praise. 
 Though sought, though urged, in ev'ry ardent gaze. 
 18 
 
138 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 
 t 
 
 JSlest nymph unknown ! fair minstrel of the plain I 
 When lyres of swelling grandeur cease to please, 
 
 Shall c^iarm thy simple, nature-breathing strain, 
 Where sweetens Beauty's tone mellifluous ease. 
 
 Coerced by Fate, my Muse had sighed farewell, 
 
 A long farewell to all Apollo's train ; 
 But thou hast^harmed her from Retii'ement's cell, 
 
 And strung her loosened,^tuneless chords again. 
 
 Thus while pale Morpheus walks his midnight rounds, 
 Soft Musick's echoing voice the ear invades ; 
 
 And, Orpheus-like, with life renewing sounds, 
 Recalls the soul from Sleep's unconscious shades. 
 
 Say, in what region, what Arcadian skies j 
 What ville Elysian, what Castalian grove ; 
 
 Where Tempean bowers, and Attick Edens rise, 
 The school of Genius, and the lap of Love ? 
 
 Oh ! where, O ! tell me, where is thy retreat ? 
 
 What myrtles twme their arms to shade thy path ? 
 What Naiad's grotto forms thy mid-day seat ? 
 
 What bank thy couch, what envied stream thy bath ? 
 
 Tell me but this, and lo I Menander flies. 
 To hail the fair, whose picture Fancy views ; 
 
 T' unmask the face, which charaas him in disguise, 
 And clasp the Nymph, as he has kissed the Mus€. 
 
TO METSTANDER. 139 
 
 THE COUNTRY GIRL TO MENANDER. 
 
 Oh ! cease thy too seducive strain, 
 
 Nor touch the warbling harp again ; 
 
 The rapturing tones invade my heart, 
 
 And Peace and Rest will soon depart ; 
 
 Love, with his downy, purple wing, 
 
 Will to my breast his roses bring ; 
 
 But, ah ! beneath tlieir roseate dye, 
 
 The sharpest thorns of Anguish lie : 
 
 Then hush the enchanting, soul-detaining lyre, 
 
 And let Indiff'rence quench the kindling fire. 
 
 Yet, oh 'tis rich, to hear the trilling sounds ; 
 
 On the full swell. 
 
 With rapture dwell, 
 As the slow numbers steal along the grounds ; 
 
 Then as they rise in air. 
 
 And on the fragrant zephyrs float. 
 
 And wanton there. 
 How sweet, to catch the silver note ! 
 But Wisdom Avills the stem decree. 
 And puts a lasting bar, 'twixt love and me. 
 The streams of joy, that Cupid sips. 
 And where he laves his gilded pluines, 
 Must never glisten on the lips, 
 She says, where sober Wisdom blooms. 
 
 Thou call'st me from my native grove, 
 And bid'st me tell where 'tis I rove ; 
 
140 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL,. 
 
 It is, the Goddess bids me say, 
 
 Where Love and thou must never stray : 
 
 Where Peace and Pleasure constant bloon^j 
 
 And Rapture smiles around the tomb. 
 
 But though alone, with mental eye, 
 
 This form thou ne'er must view ; 
 
 In answer to this deep drawn sigh, 
 
 Breathe me one last adieu ; 
 
 So may full tides of joy around thee flow, 
 
 ^nd life's more fragrant fiow'rets ever blow. 
 
 SONNET 
 
 TO THE COUNTRY GIRL. 
 
 XlASTE, Zephyr, fly, and waft to Anna's ear 
 This bosom echo^ — 'tis my heart's reply ; 
 
 Say, to her notes I listened with a tear. 
 
 And caught the sweet contagion of a " sigh.'* 
 
 But, ah ! that " last adieu !" oh ! stern request I 
 Cold, as those tides of vital ice, that roll 
 
 Through the chilled channels of the maiden breast, 
 When prudish Sanctity congeals the soul. 
 
 O'er Fancy's fairy lawn, no more we rove ; 
 
 No more, in Rhyme's impervious hood arrayed, 
 Hold airy converse in the Muse's grove, 
 
 While you a shadow seemed, and I a shade. 
 
 For know, Menander can thy features trace, 
 
 Nor more thy verse admire, than idolize thy face 1 
 
TO ANNA-LOUISA. 14-1 
 
 SONNET, 
 
 TO ANNA-LOUISA) ON HER ODE TO FANCY. 
 
 OAY, child of Phoebus and the eldest Grace, 
 Whose lyre melodious, and enchanting face, 
 
 The blendid title of thy birth proclaim ; 
 Say, lovely Naiad of Castalia's streams^ 
 Why thus thy Muse on Fiction's pillow dreams, 
 
 And fondly woos the rainbow-mantled Dame ? 
 When stern Misfortune, with her Gorgon frown, 
 Congeals the fairy face of Bliss to stone, 
 
 Hope to the horns of Fancy's altar flies ; 
 But what gay nun would seek asylum there. 
 When Beauty, Love and Fortune crown the fair, 
 
 And Hyrnen's temple greets her raptured eyes ? 
 Then haste, sweet nymph, to bless tlie ardent youth; 
 Then, Fancy, " blush to be excelled by Truth." 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 TO ANNA, ON HER VISIT TO PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 Vx'oME, power ethereal, whose mellifluous aid 
 Taught Shenstone's lyre with dulcet swell to move, 
 
 Sweet, as the minstrel of tlie evening shade, 
 Soft, as the languor in the eye of Love !' 
 
142 TO ANNA. 
 
 Come, lend my artless hand thy magick charai, 
 To deck the wreath, on Anna's brow entwined ; 
 
 In notes majestick, as her heavenly /o7-??z; 
 In verse irradiant, as her brilliant mind. 
 
 From the bleak sky of Boston's sea-girt shore, 
 The Sun and Anna seek benigner plains ; 
 
 Where'er he shines, I'ude Winter storms no more. 
 Where'er she visits, Spring florescent reigns. 
 
 She smiles — and all the Loves their arrows wing ; 
 
 She moves — ^the Goddess by her gait is known ; 
 She chants — and all inspired, the Muses sing ; 
 
 She speaks — 'tis peerless Anna's self alone ! 
 
 All welcome, lovely, fair-one, queen of grace, 
 Thou sigh and hope, by every heart expressed; 
 
 Add to the sparkling triumphs of thy face. 
 The humble tribute of Menander's breast ! 
 
 The two'foUo'wing Pieces were written in answer to some one, who, under 
 the signature of Truth, had attacked Mr. Paine in language, here distin- 
 guished by inverted commas, 
 
 TO TRUTH. 
 
 Jjegs not, but steals !" If ought with furtive view 
 From elder bards my muse hath e'er purloined, 
 She scorns those artless thefts, performed by you. 
 Who steal the dross, but leave the gold behin^. 
 
 " With all the charms of lofty nonsense graced !" 
 Such " nonsense" surely can't with thine agree ; 
 
TO TRUTH. 143 
 
 On me the robes of Dulness thou hast placed ; 
 Thank Heaven, I'm not a fool in rags, like thee. 
 
 " The discounts few !" Hadst thou, dull cynic, cast 
 O'er Fame's bright ledger a connect survey, 
 
 There thou hadst found PMlenia's dues so vast, 
 That all the Muses can't the interest pay. 
 
 Should'st thou, to soothe departed Credit's ghost, 
 At Taste's or Honour's bank present a note. 
 
 With Conon's and Ezekiel's names endorsed. 
 And were the sum applied for, but a groat ; 
 
 No just director, were the signer known. 
 
 Would trust so base an applicant a stiver j 
 To thy responsorship would clip the loan, 
 
 And, cent per cent, curtail it—to a cypher. 
 
 Henceforth, let " Truth" a liberal spirit leani, 
 For female genius claims a deathless mead ; 
 
 Henceforth those low, aspersive insults spurn, 
 
 Which Truth would blush to write, and Genius weep to read. 
 
 TO TRUTH. 
 
 VV ELL, " Truth," the snails, upon the tuneful mount, 
 Would twist and lift their sluggish limbs about. 
 
 While thy dull fingers duller numbers count, 
 Aiid drag the limping legs of Rhyme, slow, lin-ge-ring out. 
 
144 TO TRUTH. 
 
 So, " Dulness" owns me for a " favourite son 1** 
 Thank ye, good Sir, that worse ye don't abuse us ; 
 
 This self-same strumpet, ere her time was run, 
 Swore thee on Chaos, a JVaturce lusus ! 
 
 Ah 1 is the praise of fools no proof of merit ? 
 
 Their censure, surely then, an envied " praise" is,. 
 And blest be all the stars, that I inherit 
 
 So large a portion of your evil graces ! 
 
 " Then dare be honest, and to Knavery own ?" 
 Hadst thou the office of confessor claimed, 
 
 Then might I kneel, and all my sins make known, 
 To one, of whom e'en " Knavery" is ashamed ! 
 
 « The greatest fool, that lives !" — Why heaves that groan t 
 I'll wear no wreath, that costs my friend a tear ; 
 
 The cap receive again, 'tis thine alone ; 
 For you, like Csesar, find on earth no peer ! 
 
 " As Sense, the accountant, sure has entered sound 1" 
 This error on the clerk of " Fame" must fall ; 
 
 I'm proud, that in her books my name is found ; 
 With thee she opens no account at all ! 
 
 " And find the whole amount not half a sous 1" 
 As well might ants about the Alps declaim, 
 
 And garret-criticks preach upon Peru, 
 
 As " Truth" the lowest coin of Genius name. 
 
 " Philenia's sergeant !" Pride adoi^es the thought ! 
 
 The humblest halbert, which Pieria's queen 
 From Taste's bright armoury gives, were cheaply bought 
 
 With all the epaulets of envious Spleen ! 
 
TO TRUTH. 145 
 
 Though ail my « puffs" not one recruiter drew, 
 I'll not thy more successful drumstick rob ; 
 
 Yes ! oft I've heard thee beat the loud tattoo, 
 And with thy long-roll muster Wapping's mob I 
 
 thy Gorgon train array, in battle ire ; 
 
 Philenia triumphs with unaided Charms ; 
 Like Rome's illustrious chief, her magick lyre 
 
 Could speak a tuneful Myriad into arms. 
 
 By " puffs" Menander " seeks his fame to raise !" 
 Thy sickly fame were shocked by means so rough } 
 
 The mildest breath puts out the Taper's blaze, 
 And bubbles vanish at the slightest " puff 1'* 
 
 " My sinking credit !" — Should it sink to wreck, 
 
 'Tis joy, to hear thee own, my credit rose ; 
 Thine, by a fall, can never break its neck, 
 
 The tide can never ebb, before it flows ! 
 
 Thou son of Zoilus, hail ! His pulpit host 
 
 Exult in thee, a second leader gained ; 
 Whose greatest praise the vilest grub might boast ; 
 
 Whose only glory is a laurel stained ! 
 
 But I'll no longer war against a foe, 
 
 On whom too condescending Justice snears ; 
 
 A foe, so lost to every tender glow. 
 That Adamant a Sensitive appears ! 
 
 The surly Critick, who with envy blind, 
 
 To shine the pedant, with the man would part, 
 
 In Fame's ascending scale may raise his mmd, 
 While in the falling balance sinks his heart. 
 19 
 
146 ON A BAMBOO FAN. 
 
 Poor is the f uffian victor of the field, 
 
 Where tortured feelings melt the female eye, 
 
 Where wounded Tendeniess, compelled to yield, 
 Leads the barbarian's triumph with a sigh. 
 
 STANZAS 
 
 to A YOUNG LADY ON A BAMBOO FAN, ACCIDENTALLY 
 TORN. 
 
 Hjrst, wanton Toy, 'twas thine to move, 
 
 By beauty's lovely queen caressed ; 
 While, waving, like the wing of love, 
 
 Thou fanned' St a flame in every bi'eastS 
 'Twas thine, in her imperial hand. 
 
 The cold to warm, the proud subdue ; 
 The female Franklin's magic wand, 
 
 Olivia's sceptre, sweet Bamboo ! 
 
 Whene'er the Nymph displayed thy charms 
 
 Thy airy flutters graceful move ; 
 Each bosom, throbbing soft alarms, 
 
 Appeared an aspen leaf of love. 
 And while, too fondly, thought the maid 
 
 To smile vinseen, when veiled by you ; 
 Her treachei'ous eyes the plot betrayed. 
 
 And dazzled through the thin Bamboo. 
 
 But oh ! ye Loves, whence heaves that sigh, 
 And whence those tears, ye Graces, flow ? 
 
 Why swells the sorrow-glistening eye ? 
 Why ventilates the breast of woe ? 
 
ON A BAMBOO FAN. 14f 
 
 • 
 
 " 'Tis rent ! Olivia's fan is rent ! 
 
 " Farewell, our triumphs ! Fame, adieu !" 
 Alas ! — But why, this wound lament ? 
 
 'Tis glory to your loved Bamboo ! 
 
 Two rival Zephyrs, knights of air, 
 
 Contended for Olivia's lip ; 
 To dwell, like Epicureans there, 
 
 And riot on the nect'rous sip ; 
 To that pure fo\int, of chaste delight, 
 
 These Chesterfields of aether flew ; 
 Rushed on the Fan, which checked their sight, 
 
 And rudely tore the soft Bamboo. 
 
 Ah ! could I gain the ear of Jove, 
 
 To list propitious to my prayer, 
 This sole request my wish should prove, 
 
 That I thy envied form might bear. 
 Then, from the nymph I'd steal a kiss, 
 
 And sigh, in plaintive zephyrs too ; 
 While tender tales of love and bliss, 
 
 J'd whisper from the fond Baipboo ! 
 
PRIZE prologue: 
 
 Spoken in the character of Apollo. 
 BY Mr. C. POWELL, 
 ^T THE OPENING OF THE FIRST THEATRE, IN BOSTON, 
 JANUARY, 1794. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The subsequent Poem was originally ivriiteii by Mr. PamCf 
 for a Prologue at the opening of the Federal Street Theatre^ 
 in 1794. It was spoken by Mr. Charles Powell^ the first man- 
 ager^ and afterwards publishedin the Massachusetts Magazine. 
 The Trustees proposed a medal for the best Prologue. Censors 
 were appointed to examine and award; and numerous compet' 
 itors crowded the list for the Prize. We believe there was no 
 diversity of opinion among the censors.) and the medal was ac- 
 cordingly adjudged to Mr. Paine. Since the original publication 
 the Poem has beenimproved aiid greatly ramified. Mr. Paine 
 had pourtrayed) with great labour a7id skill, and finished with 
 the most vivid colouring., the characters of all the great English 
 dramatic poets, which, had he lived to publish his own works, 
 he would have incorporated into this Poem. The sketch of 
 these characters he considered, as the most perfect, polished at^d 
 elevated of his poetical productions. They were written upon 
 detached pieces of paper, and through negligence or casualty 
 are now irrecoverably lost. His profound knowledge of the 
 Drama, and his familiar intimacy with the great luminaries, wha 
 have adored it with their genius, eminently qualified him for the 
 imdertaking. None of his fragments could have been more 
 precious. But, like the mystic leaves of the Sybil, they elude 
 the most diligent search, and cannot be embodied with his works*. 
 
 * The above notices are coimnunicated to the editor, and the publick, 
 by a gentleman ivho remembers to have seen the outlines at least, of 
 SJiakespear^s, Johjison's, Fletcher'' s Dryden's^ Centlivre^s, Ot-way's, Con- 
 greve's, Farquar''s, Sheridaris and other characters, as sketched by Mr. 
 Paine. ' 
 
PRIZE PROLOGUE. 
 
 W HEN first, o'er Athens, Learning's dawning ray 
 Gleamed the dim twilight of the Attick day ; 
 To charm, improve, the hours of state repose, 
 The deathless father of the Drama rose. 
 No gorgeous pageantry adorned the show ; 
 The plot was simple, and the scene was low. 
 Without the wardrobe of tlie Graces, drest ; 
 Without the mimick blush of Art, caressed ; 
 Heroick Virtue held her throne secure. 
 For Vice was modest, and Ambition poor. 
 
 But soon the Muse, by nobler ardours fired, 
 To loftiest heights of Scenick verse aspired. 
 From useful Life her comick fable rose. 
 And Epick passions fomaed her tale of woes : 
 The daring Drama heaven itself explored, 
 And gods descending trod the Grecian board. 
 The scene expanding, through the temple swelled ; 
 Each bosom acted, what each eye beheld : 
 Warm to the heart, the chimick Fiction stole, 
 And purged, by moral Alchymy, the soul. 
 
 Hence Artists graced, and Heroes nerved the age, 
 The sons or pupils of a patriot stage. 
 Hence, in this forum of the virtues fired, 
 This living school of Eloquence inspired ; 
 
iS2 PRIZE PROLOGUE, 
 
 With bolder crest, the dauntless warrior strode ; 
 
 With nobler tongue, the ardent statesman glowed j 
 
 The void of Life instinctive morals filled. 
 
 And Fame herself with chaste Ambition thrilled j 
 
 Imperial Grief gave social Pity birth, 
 
 And frightened Folly feared instructive Mirth. 
 
 Thus Athens reigned Minerva of the globe ; 
 First, in the hemlet — fairest in the i^obe ; 
 In arms she triumphed, as in letters shone, 
 Of Taste the palace, and of War the throne » 
 
 But, lo ! where, rising in majestick flight, 
 The Roman eagle sails the expanse of light ! 
 His wings, like Heaven's vast canopy, unfurled, 
 Stretch their broad plumage o'er the subject world; 
 Behold ! he soars, where climbing Phoebus rolls, 
 And, perching on his car, o'erlooks the poles ! 
 Far, as the chariot winds its radiant way, 
 His empire follows on the ebb of day ; 
 And Rome and Light revolve with rival fires, 
 And Cesar governs, when the Sun retires. 
 
 Bland nurse of Genius ! mother queen of Grace ! 
 Lo ! Cecrops' throne is Ruin's charnel place ! 
 Long ages past, with beating wing, have swept 
 Thy crumbling tomb, and as they smote, have wept ; 
 Now, Time's grey eve, serene with Imgering day, 
 Sheds o'er thy wrecks his sad sepulchral ray ! 
 Departed Athens ! I'ound thy sullen shores, 
 Choaked with thy gods, thy vexed Pyrasus roars-, 
 
PRIZE PROLOGUE. 153 
 
 Once proud to glitter where thy columns stood, 
 
 That Heaven might see thy temples in his flood. 
 
 From their cold altars all thy priests have flown, 
 
 And liermit Silence worships there alone ! 
 
 O'er thy drear mound no dirge thy muses swell ; 
 
 Mute is the breath, that filled their votive siiell. 
 
 Pierced at their shrines, the sacred sisters fled. 
 
 Veiled their stained breasts, and pitied while they bled ; 
 
 Then, grouped in air, they showed the wounds they bore, 
 
 And dropped their broken lyres, to sound no more. 
 
 The Chissel's life still loves the realm^ it gx'aced, 
 
 And weeps in mai'ble o'er thy sculptured waste ; 
 
 O'er broken cenotaphs and mouldering fanes, 
 
 Sits black Despair, while pagan Wonder reigns ; 
 
 Where frowned thy Sages, from their niches thrown, 
 
 The prophet raven fills the vacant stone ; 
 
 With Arab scars the Pai'ian hero bleeds, 
 
 And Beauty's statue sleeps in groves of weeds ; 
 
 Minerva's temple vainly greets the stars. 
 
 And pirates shelter on the rock of Mars, 
 
 Where lightens now, the Drama's vivid eye. 
 Whose glance reformed, where'er its beams could fly ? 
 Who, when Desire was fond, and Art was young. 
 So rudely sported, and so simply sung ? 
 Yet, when thy realm was wild, and dark with fate, 
 Could charm the tumult, and allay the state ? 
 Could gently touch the film, that made thee blind, 
 And pour new day o'er thine infatuate .mind? 
 
 Where, now, thy lofty Muse, thou bard divine ! 
 Who bade a nation's wealth adorn her shi'ine ! 
 20 
 
1^4 PRIZE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Who, graced their passions, aiid their pride to move, 
 A people's homage, and a senate's love, 
 With gorgeous drapery, and imperial air, 
 Awed mobs to think, and " wonder why they were }'' 
 Who with her pencil moved the state-machine, 
 And swayed a faction, as she turned a scene ; 
 With Art's last glories bade her temple flame, 
 And gave to Virtue, all she won from Fame ; 
 Who o'er a realm her vast proscenium threw, 
 And saw all Athens in one splendid view ; 
 With Attick genius moral truth impressed. 
 And taught a nation, while she charmed a guest I 
 
 In vain Illyssus flowed, or Locris bled, 
 The vital virtue of my heart had fled I 
 What though to victory patriot Valour wades j 
 Or musing Science consecrates thy shades ; 
 While thankless Praise on dangerous Glory frownSj 
 And Envy banishes, whom Fortune crowns ; 
 While the blest seer, who taught all, Nature knew, 
 Receives a chalice for the heaven he drew. 
 
 In vain thy Epick heroes wake with rage, 
 And stalk like spectres o'er thy trembling stage ! 
 Ruled by caprice, with varying passion raised. 
 As rhetorick flattered, or as triumph blazed ; 
 Bound by no law, a trope could not repeal. 
 Just to no merit, faction could not feel ; 
 A crowd of schools, and a scholastick crowd. 
 Light, though forensick, impotent, though loud |, 
 Wild by abstraction, and by fiction vain, 
 Crude by refinement, and by sense insane ; 
 
PRIZE PROLOGUE, 155 
 
 With q\iick conceits thy fickle fancy burned, 
 With learning fooled thee, 'till thy folly learned ; 
 With clamoruus Wisdom waged its patriot feud, 
 'Till words alone defended publick good. 
 Disgusted Pallas her allegiance broke, 
 Ilium revived, and bade thee pass the yoke. 
 
 Dear wild of Genius ! o'er thy mouldering scene. 
 While Taste explores, where Time's rude step has been. 
 Thy marble fragments, and thy desert mart, 
 Frown Fate to Faction, and Despair to Art j 
 Alike they mark thy frenzy and thy fame. 
 Record thy glory, and confess thy shame ! 
 
 Bare and defenceless to the blast of war, 
 The gates of Greece received the victor's car ; 
 Chained to his wheels, was captive Faction led, 
 And Taste transplanted bloomed at Tyber's head= 
 O'er the rude minds of Empire's hardy race, 
 The opening pupil beamed of lettered grace. 
 With charms so sweet, the houseless Drama smiled. 
 That Rome adopted Athens orphan child : 
 With bounty cloathed her, and with kindness cheeredj 
 Her fancy copied, and her satire feared ; 
 Vice, fashion, folly — -to her power resigned. 
 And bowed an empire to the Muse's mind. 
 Wealth, honour, fame her Cesar's hand bestowed. 
 Wit, virtue, grace repaid the debt, she owed j 
 Life breathed in fable, eloquence in mien. 
 And manners taught how morals should be seen. 
 From Beauty's touch no mail could guard the heart* 
 Rome conquered science and was ruled by art. 
 
tS6 PRIZE PROLOG tTE. 
 
 Transplanted Athens' in her stage revived, 
 
 Her patriots mouldered, but her poets lived. 
 
 Fledged by her hand, the Mantuan sw^an aspired ; 
 
 Glanced by her eye, e'en Pompey's self retired ; 
 
 And raptured TuUy half his graces caught, 
 
 While Roscius bodied all the forms of thought. 
 
 Sheathed was the sword, by which a world had bled ; 
 
 And Janus blushing to his temple fled : 
 
 The Globe's proud butcher grew humanely brave ; 
 
 Earth staunched her wounds, and Ocean hushed his wave. 
 
 Augustan Rome, with sad, prophetick eye, 
 Beheld her empire circle round the sky ; 
 And saw along the ever i^olling view, 
 Her shadow tremble, as her pennons flew. 
 Around her throne Pretorian cohorts stood, 
 Yet Fiction governed what her arms subdued. 
 O'er vassal man she dared not reign alone, 
 And called the Drama to support her throne ;■ 
 And shook her sceptre, and her legions led, 
 When spoke the Larva, or the Arena bled. 
 
 At length, though huge of limb, by power oppressed, 
 Groaning with Slavery's mountain on their breast, 
 Her giant nations struggled from disgrace, 
 And Rome, like iEtna, tottered to her base. 
 
 Thus set the sun of intellectual light, 
 And, wrapped in clouds, lowered on the Gothick night. 
 Dark gloomed the storm— the rushing torrent poured, ' 
 And wide the deep Cimmerian deluge roared ; 
 
PRIZE PROLOGUE. IST 
 
 E'en Learning's loftiest hills were covered o'er, 
 And seas of dulness rolled, without a shore. 
 Yet, ere the surge Parnassus' top o'erflowed, 
 The banished Muses fled their blest abpde. 
 Frail was their ark, the heaven topped seas to brave, 
 The wind their compass, and their helm the wave ; 
 No port to cheer them, and no star to guide. 
 From clime to clime they roved the billowy tide ^ 
 At length, by storms and tempests wafted o'er^ 
 They found an Ararat on Albion's shore. 
 
 Yet sterile proved the cold, reluctant Age, 
 And scarcely seemed t'^ vegetate the stage ; 
 Nature, in dotage, second childhood mourned, 
 Outlived her wisdom, and to straw returned. 
 But, hark 1 her mighty rival sweeps the strings ; 
 Sweet Avon, flow not 1 — 'tis thy Shakespeare sings ! 
 With Blanchard's wing, in Fancy's heaven he soars ; 
 With Herschel's eye, another world explores ! 
 Taught by the tones of his melodious song, 
 The scenick Muses tuned their barbarous tongue, 
 With subtle powers the crudest soul refined. 
 And warmed the Zembla of the dormant mind. 
 The World's new queen, Augusta, owned their charms, 
 And clasped the Grecian nymphs in British arms. 
 
 Then triumphed Nature with imperial Art, 
 The Drama's province was the human heart. " 
 
 No tint of verse can paint the extatick view, 
 When Garrick sighed the Muse his last adieu 1 
 Description but a shadow's shade appears, 
 When Siddons' looks a nation into tears 1 - 
 
i^8 PillZE PROLOGUE. 
 
 But, ah ! while thus unrivalled reigns the Muse^ 
 Her soul o'erflows and Grief her face bedews ; 
 Sworn at the altar, proud Oppression's foe, 
 She weeps, indignant for her Britain's woe. 
 Long has she cast a fondly wishful eye, 
 On tfee pure climate of the Western sky ; 
 And now, while Europe bleeds at every vein, 
 And pinioned forests shake the crimsoned naain ; 
 While se^-walled Britain mid the tempest stands. 
 And hurls her thunders from a thousand hands ; 
 Lured by a clime, where, hostile arms afar, 
 Peace rolls luxurious in her dove drawn car ; 
 Where Fi^eedom first awoke the human mind. 
 And broke the enchantment, which enslaved mankind : 
 Behold ! Apollo seeks this liberal plain. 
 And brings the Thespian Goddess in his train. 
 O, happy realm ! to whom are richly given 
 The noblest bounties of indulgent Heaven ; 
 For whom has Earth her wealthiest mine bestowed, 
 And Commerce bridged old Ocean's broadest flood j 
 To you a stranger guest, the Drama, flies ; 
 An angel wanders in a pilgrim's guise ! 
 To charm the fancy and to feast the heart, 
 She spreads the banquit of the Scenick art. 
 By you supported, shall her infant stage 
 Pourtray, adorn, and regulate the age. 
 When rages Faction with intemperate sway, 
 And grey-haired Vices shame the face of day ; 
 Drawn from their covert to the indignant pit, 
 Be such the game to stock the park of Wit ; 
 That park, where Genius all his shafts may draw, 
 Nor dread the terrors of a forest law. 
 
PRIZE PROLOGUE. 139, 
 
 But not to scenes of pravity confined, 
 Her polished life an ample field shall find ; 
 Reflected here, its fair perspective, view, 
 The stage, the Camera— the landscape, you. 
 
 Ye circling fair, whose clustering beauties shine 
 A radiant galaxy of charms divine ; 
 Whose gentle hearts those tender scenes approve, 
 Where pity begs, or kneels adoring love ; 
 Ye sons of sentiment, whose bosom fire 
 The song of pathos, and the epick lyre ; 
 Whose glowing souls with tragick grandeur rise, 
 When bleeds a hero, or a nation dies ; 
 And ye, who, throned on high, a Synod sit, 
 And rule the turl)id atmosphere of wit ; 
 Whose clouds dart light'ning on our comick wires, 
 And burst in thunder, as the flash expires. 
 If here, those eyes, whose tears with peerless sway, 
 Have wept the vices of an Age away ; 
 If here, those lips, whose smiles with magick art, 
 Have laughed the foibles fi^om the cheated heart; 
 On Mirth's gay cheek, can one bright dimple light ; 
 In Sori'ow's breast, one passioned sigh excite ; 
 With nobler streams, the Buskin's grief shall fall ; 
 With pangs sublimer, throb this breathing wall ; ] 
 Thalia too, more blythe, shall trip the stage, 
 Of Cai^e the wrinkles smooth, and thaw the veins of Age, 
 
 And now, Thou Dome, by Freedom's patrons reared. 
 With Beauty blazoned, and by Taste I'evered ; 
 Apollo consecrates thy walls profane, — 
 Pence be thou sacred to the Muses reign ! 
 
J60 PRIZE PROLOGUE. 
 
 In Thee, three ages in one shall conspire ; 
 
 A Sophocles shall sweep his lofty lyre ; 
 
 A Terence rise, in chariest charms serene ; 
 
 A Sheridan display the polished scene ; 
 
 The first, with epick Grief shall swell the stage, 
 
 And give to virtue fiction's noblest rage ; 
 
 The second, laws to Beauty shall impart, 
 
 And copy nature by the rules of art ; 
 
 The last, great master, ends invention's strife, 
 
 And gilds the mirror, which he holds to life ! 
 
 Thy classick lares shall exalt our times, 
 
 With distant ages and remotest climes ; 
 
 And Athens, Rome, Augusta, blush to see. 
 
 Their virtue, beauty, grace, all shine— combine^ in tbee< 
 
INVENTION OF LETTERS: 
 
 A POEM, 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE REQ.UEST OF THE ^RESIDENT OF 
 
 PARVARD UNIVERSITY; 
 AI<rp DELIVERED, IN CAMBRIDGE, ON THE DAY OF ANNUAL 
 
 COMMENCEMENT, JULY 15, 1795. 
 
TO HIS EXCELLENCY 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, 
 
 WHOSE CIVICK AND MILITARY VIRTUES DESERVE A NOBLER 
 
 EULOGIUM, THAN THE 
 
 INVENTION OF LETTERS" 
 
 CAN BESTOW, 
 
 THIS POEM 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, BY AN OBEDIENT 
 
 AND GRATEFUL CITIZEN, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
tilE 
 
 INVENTION OF LETTERS. 
 
 ocARCE had the'cedar cleft the virgm wave, 
 That erst to Tyre its chaste embraces gave ; 
 Scarce had the bold Phcenician, forced to roam 
 By barren nature and a desert home ; 
 His vales of rock exchanged for Ocean's field, 
 And left the plough's, the trident's beam to wield 5 
 When Cadmus, eldest heir of classick fame, 
 First gave each element of thought a name. 
 Of oral tongue the varying sounds he caught, 
 For every tone a varying emblem wrought ; 
 From signs a word ; from words a period flows ; 
 A page succeeds, and next a volume grows. 
 
 Thus, on the silrface of the polished rind, 
 He sketched the features of the viewless mind ; 
 At length aspired to rhetorick's colouring grace. 
 And pictured thought, as artists shade the face. 
 
 Now to Achaia's rude, unlettered shore, 
 His glorious art the bold discoverer bore. 
 In that calm seat of innocence and ease, 
 Where Nature strove to bless, and Life to please ; 
 
164 THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 
 
 No ruffling passion shook the placid breast, 
 For Anger's fluid surface was at rest. 
 With rising sun, the swain Ins course renewed, 
 His flock conducted, or his Daphne wooed ; 
 And when his vows she heard in dale or grove, 
 Her smile was friendship ; but her blush was love. 
 No jealous fear, as roving arm in arm, 
 Her brow could wrinkle, or her heart alarrn ; 
 As chaste, as Eve, when she, in virtue pure, 
 Without a fig-leaf thought her charms secure. 
 
 Soon, for the sceptre, was the crook resigned, 
 And arts and arms employed the active mind. 
 From Attick climes, the Cadmean tablet spread, 
 And Roman eyes the page of Athens read. 
 By Genivis sunned, by fond Ambition nursed, 
 Forth from its germ the flower of Science burst. 
 Now rose the temple ; now the clarion rung ; 
 The forum thundered, and the Muses sung : 
 Now flew the shuttle ; now the quarry broke ; 
 There breathed the canvass ; here the marble spoke. 
 
 Be such the lay to sons of elder time. 
 Whose green tombs flourish in immortal prime. 
 May no rude Saracen's unhallowed tread 
 Profane the ashes of the classick dead ! 
 But let the pedant, whelmed in learned dust, 
 Who values Science only for its rust, 
 No more presume with bigot zeal to raise, 
 O'er modern worth, the palm of ancient days. 
 No more let Athens to the world proclaim. 
 Her classick phalanx holds the field of fame 5 
 
THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 165 
 
 No more let delving Tyre's mechanic host 
 
 The birth of letters, as of commerce, boast ; 
 
 And thou, proud Tyber ! vaunt those Avaves no morcj 
 
 Which once a Cesar bathed, a Virgil bore ! 
 
 The barbarous Rhine now blends its classick name, 
 
 With Rome's, Phoenicia's, and Achaia's fame ; 
 
 See, midst her waves, their fragrance to restore^ 
 
 He dips the laurels, which your heroes wore ; 
 
 Green with new life, and chastened of their dust, 
 
 Restores each chaplet to its votive bust. 
 
 Sovereign of Art, Invention's noblest son. 
 
 He claims the bays, which every art has won ; 
 
 Of fame unenvious, living worth rewards. 
 
 And loves the genius, Avhich his page records. 
 
 Egyptian shrubs, in hands of cook or priest, 
 A king could mummy, or enrich a feast ; 
 Faustus, great shade ! a nobler leaf imparts, 
 Embalms all ages, and preserves all arts. 
 
 The ancient scribe, employed by bards divine, 
 With faultering finger traced the Imgering line. 
 So few the scrivener's dull profession chose, 
 With tedious toil each tardy transcript rose ; 
 And scarce the Iliad, penned from oral rhyme, 
 Grew with the bark, that bore its page sublime. 
 
 But when the Press, with fertile womb, supplies 
 The useful sheet, on thousand wings it flies ; 
 Bound to no climate, to no age confined. 
 The pinioned vojume spreads to all mankind. 
 
166 THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 
 
 No sacred power the Cadmean art could claiiBj 
 O'er time to triumph, and defy the flame : 
 In one sad day a Goth could ravage more. 
 Than ages wrote, or ages could restore. 
 
 The Roman hemlet, or the Grecian lyre, 
 A realm might conquer, or a realm inspire ; 
 Then sink, oblivious, in the mouldering dust, 
 With those who blest them, and with those who cursti 
 What guide had then the lettered pilgrim ledj 
 Where Plato moralized ; where Cesar bled ? 
 What page had told, in lastuig record wrought, 
 The world who butchered, or the world who taught ? 
 
 Thine was the naighty power, immortal sage ! 
 To burst the cearments of each buried age. 
 Through the drear sepulchre of sunless Time, 
 Rich with the trophied wrecks of many a clime, 
 Thy daring genius broke the pathless way, 
 And brought the glorious relicks forth to day. 
 
 To thee the historian's pen, indebted, owes 
 The map of ages, which his page bestows : 
 From thee e'en Fame inhales the air, she breathes, 
 And crowns thy brows with tributary wreathes ! 
 
 The Press, that engine, formed to rouse mankind, 
 To expand the heart, and civilize the mind. 
 In feats, like these, each statesman has outdone. 
 From Nimrod's house of peers, to Chatham's peei'less son i 
 
THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. iht 
 
 By Freedom guarded, and by Virtue graced, 
 It weeds the morals, while it prunes the taste. 
 But when, in thraldom of oppressive chains. 
 The curb of power the liberal press restrains, 
 Vice, who has charms, Circassia never knew, 
 In voice a Circe, and in poison too. 
 With luring dimples, and with wanton smiles. 
 The eye enamours, and the heart beguiles. 
 In pu.blick veins her foul infections roll. 
 Seduce the nation, and corrupt its soul. 
 
 Had Vulcan's web, which once, in realm of Jove, 
 Trapped in crim. con. the tripping queen of love, 
 Of late at Gaul's lascivious court been spread, 
 Ere fettered Type from dread Bastile was led ; 
 The magick seine, such shoals its wires had caught. 
 Like Peter's net, had broken with the draught ! 
 
 The mystick Fossil, whose attracted soul, 
 With fond affection, seeks its kindred pole, 
 To bless the globe, had ne'er explored the wave. 
 But, Cortes-like, discovered to enslave. 
 Had letters ne'er the bold ambition crowned. 
 And Printing polished what the magnet found ; 
 In vain had Gama traced the orient way, 
 And Europe stretched her wings 'mid Indian day ; 
 In vam Columbus, spurning Neptune's roar. 
 Gave earth a balance, and the sea a shore, 
 'Till truth-winged Science, bursting Error's night, 
 Shed her religion, where she beamed her light. 
 
168 THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 
 
 But most that triumph of the press we prize, 
 Which bade the slumbering rights of Nature rise ; 
 Stripped of his mask, the despot's face displayed, 
 And showed the world the monster, they obeyed. 
 
 Not Tell's fleet arrow sped with surer art ; 
 Not Corde's dagger deeper cleft the heart ; 
 Not tower-armed elephant, nor bursting mine, 
 The battex'ing aries, nor the blazing line, 
 With deadlier prowess spread their fatal rage, 
 Than Type, indignant for an injured age. 
 When patriots, leagued a nation to redress. 
 At tyrants point the artillery of the press, 
 Loud, o'er the gorgeous canopy of state, 
 It falls, like Erie ; and it sti^ikes, like Fate ; 
 Wide as La Plata, as the Andes high, 
 Its thunders echo, and its lightnings fly ; 
 To heaven appealed, ascends the dread decree ; 
 The tyrant falls—America is free I 
 
 Long may our nation guard the rights, she boasts ; 
 Green be the tombs where sleep her patriot hosts. 
 May war-worn Scipio reap the field, he gained. 
 Nor see his laurels stripped, his honour stained ! 
 Ne'er may a warrior's urn reproach the brave,. 
 Ungrateful Rome, thou can'st not rob my grave ! 
 
 By smiling Peace, and fruitful vallies blest. 
 By freemen loved, by distant climes caressed, 
 Columbia rules a brave and generous land, 
 And scatters blessings, whei-e her laws comuiandu 
 
THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. . 169 
 
 What though no wave Pactolian laves her shore, 
 
 Nor gleam her caverns with Peruvian ore ; 
 
 Rich is the soil, through which her rivers run, 
 
 And all her diamonds ripen in the sun. 
 
 Let torrid climes in sterile caves infold 
 
 Their gleaming vineyards of luxuriant gold ; 
 
 Let India boast the philosophick churl. 
 
 Who starves an oyster, to create a pearl. 
 
 Thee happier wealth, Columbia, Fate has given, 
 
 Nor gleans from famine what descends fi'om heaven. 
 
 Thy native mines nor rod nor art requii'e, 
 
 To dig by magick, nor to purge by fire ; 
 
 And chymick skill, thy glittering veins to trace. 
 
 Resigns thy bosom, to survey thy face. 
 
 Beneath the shade, which Freedom's oak displays, 
 Their votive shrine Apollo's offspring raise. 
 With youthful Fancy, or with matron Taste, 
 They cull the meadow, or explore the waste ; 
 Each tract, they culture, verdant life perfumes ; 
 With Judgment ripens, or with Genius blooms. 
 
 In strength of scene, delights a Ramsay's page ; 
 With classick truth, a Belknap charms the age; 
 In cloudless splendour, modest Minot shines ; 
 And Bunker flames, in Allen's* glowing lines. 
 By sister arts and kindred powers allied. 
 The Trumbulls rise, the lyre's and pencil's pride ; 
 And every muse has carved Philenia's name, 
 On every laurel in the gi-ove of Fame. 
 
 * jNIr. James Allen, of Boston ; author of a celebrated mannscriptpoeni, 
 entitled, "The Battle of Ihinkei'' s H/7(." 
 99 
 
irO THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 
 
 From Harvai^d's fount, by native springs supplied) 
 Presiding Science rolls her copious tide. 
 JBlest seat of letters, to thy sacred walls 
 This festive day my fond remembrance calls i 
 In Life's broad road, whate'er my path may be. 
 Full oft shall Memory turn to gaze on thee ; 
 Still, like some faithful ghost, delight to dwell, 
 And hover o'er the spot, she loved so well ! 
 
 A lurking moth in every art we find, 
 That braves the weakness of the human mind. 
 Born in the pore, it burrows through the heart, 
 And kills the oak, whose leaf it could not start. 
 
 In yon drear garret. Faction's dark recess. 
 Her nightly daemons load the groaning press. 
 With cobwebs hung, she rubs her sleepless eyes, 
 While Norfolk spiders weave her half-spun lies. 
 Her motley brood by law, nor gospel tied. 
 Whom honour cannot bind, nor reason guide. 
 The dregs of nature and of vice compose ; 
 For Envy these creates, and Folly those. 
 In tricks expert, or buzzing on the wing. 
 Like apes, they mimick, or, like insects, sting ! 
 And still another useless proof supply — ■ 
 The sun that warms a monkey, breeds a fly ! 
 
 For place or power, while demagogues contend, 
 Whirled in their vortex, sinks each humbler friend. 
 See Crispin quit his stall, in Faction's cause, 
 To cobble government, and soal the laws ! 
 
THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 171 
 
 See Frisseur scent his dust, his razor set, 
 
 To shave the treaty, or to puff Genet ! 
 
 In doubtful mood, see Mulciber debate, 
 
 To mend a horse-shoe, or to weld the state 1 
 
 The whip's bold knight, in barn, his truck has laid, 
 
 To spout in favour of the carrying trade ! 
 
 While Stay tape runs, from hissing goose, too hot, 
 
 To measure Congress for another coat ; 
 
 And still, by rule of shop, intent on pelf, 
 
 Eyes the spare cloth, to cabbage for himself ! 
 
 Envy, that fiend, who haunts the great and good, 
 Not Cato shunned, nor Hercules subdued. 
 On Fame's wide field, where'er a covert lies, 
 The rustling serpent to the thicket flies ; 
 The foe of Glory, Merit is her prey ; 
 The dunce she leaves, to plod his drowsy way. 
 Of birth amphibious, and of Protean skilly 
 This green-eyed monster changes shape at will ; ^ 
 
 Like snakes of smaller breed, she sheds her skin ; 
 Strips off the serpent, and turns — Jacobin. 
 
 Each hero's seat her lawless steps invade, 
 From George's banks, to Vernon's laurel shade. 
 E'en to thy brow, immortal Freedom's Sire ! 
 Her pagan hands, in sacrilege, aspire ! 
 Can'st thou, great Chief, her thankless sons forgive, 
 Who owe to thee the soil, on which they live ? 
 These senseless reptiles, who, with Slander's bane, 
 The bright medallion of thy life would stain, 
 Yield to the glories of thy deathless name, 
 The noblest tribute ever paid by fame. 
 
172 THE INVENTION OP LETTERS. 
 
 The beams of Phcebus shower their brightest blaze, 
 When Heaven is shadowed by the clouds tliey raise : 
 And the proud pyramids, that propped the sky, 
 Whose spires were scarcely kenned by mortal eye ; 
 Whose height the loftiest strides of Art surpassed, 
 Were measured only by the shade they cast. 
 
 Oh, Washington ! thou hero, patriot, sage ! 
 Friend of all climates ; pride of every age ! 
 Were thine the laurels, every soil could raise, 
 The mighty harvest were penurious praise. 
 Well may our realms thy Fabian wisdom boast ; 
 Thy prudence saved, what bravery had lost. 
 Yet e'er hadst thou, by Heaven's severer fates, 
 Like Sparta's hero at the Grecian straits, 
 Been doomed to meet, in arms, a world of foes. 
 Whom skill could not defeat, nor walls oppose ; 
 Then had thy breast, by danger ne'er subdued, 
 SThe mighty buckler of thy country stood ; 
 Proud of its wounds, each piercing spear would bless, 
 Which left Columbia's foes one javelin less; 
 Nor felt one pang, but, in the glorious deed. 
 Thy little band of heroes, too, must bleed ; 
 Nor throbbed one fear, but, that some poisoned dart 
 Thy breast might pass, and reach thy country's heart I 
 
 By Heaven ordained, ne'er in the sea of Fame 
 Shall sit the disk of thy resplendent name ; 
 But, like yon Arctick star, forever roll. 
 In ceaseless orbit, round the glowing pole. 
 
THE INVENTION OF LETTERS. 3f5 
 
 Could Faustus live, by gloomy Grave resigned ; 
 With power extensive, as sublime his mind, 
 Thy glorious life a volume should compose, 
 As Alps immortal, spotless as its snows. 
 The stars should be its types— its press the age ; 
 The earth its binding — and the sky its page. 
 In language set, not Babel could o'erturn ; 
 On leaves impressed, which Omar could not burn ; 
 The sacred work in Heaven's high dome should stand, 
 Shine with its suns, and with its arch expand ; 
 'Till Nature's-self the Vandal torch should raise, 
 And the vast alcove of Creation blaze ! 
 
THE 
 
 RULING passion; 
 
 JIJV OCCASIOJ^AL POEM, 
 
 •WRITTEN BY THE APPOINTMENT OF THE SOCIETY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHI BETA kappa: 
 
 AND SPOKEN, ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY, IN THE 
 
 CHAPEL OF THE UNIVERSITY, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 JULY 20, 1797. 
 
THE 
 
 RULING PASSION. 
 
 rVANGE we through Nature's social walks, to scan 
 That little world, that greater wonder, man. 
 The Sage's study, which but few improve ; 
 Religion's mystery, which none remove ; 
 Reason's proud toy ; in his machine unite 
 Powers, dense as earth ; conceptions, rare as light ; 
 Its wheels more complex, than the central sphere, 
 Which guides a comet, while it moulds a tear ; 
 Its springs more subtle, than the secret soul, 
 Which bids a world cohere, an atom roll. 
 
 Less by himself, than others, understood ; 
 More led by sense, yet more with mind endued ; 
 His nature oftener sets our world at odds. 
 Than Jove, in Ovid's "Green-Room" of the gods. 
 
 Since, then, the wisest are as dull, as we. 
 In one grave maxim let us all agree ; 
 Nature ne'er meant her secrets should be found, 
 And man's a riddle, which man can't expound J, 
 33 
 
t78 THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 Then let us shun the rapt seer's loftier flight, 
 For paths more pervious to our ken of sight j 
 Vain were our pride, like Icarus of yore, 
 In realms of fire, on wings of wax, to soar ; 
 Ours be the Muse, Avho humbler tracts essays ; 
 Descends from theory, and life portrays. 
 On what man is, the schools may disagree, 
 We only know him, as he seems to be. 
 
 In beings, formed their own pursuits to guide, 
 No wonder moves it, and excites no pride, 
 When bards, less curious than Lavater, find 
 Some spring of action ruling every mind. 
 
 Like Egypt's gods, man's various passions sway ; 
 Some prowl the earth, and some ascend the day : 
 This charms the fancy, that the palate feasts ; 
 A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts ! 
 
 Were the wild brood, who dwell in glade and brake, 
 Some kindred character of man to take ; 
 In the base jackall's, or gay leopard's mien. 
 The servile pimp, or gay coquette, were seen ; 
 The patient camel, long inured to dine 
 But once a fortnight, would a poet shine ; 
 The stag, a cit, with autlered brows content ; 
 The rake, a pointer, always on the scent ; 
 The snake, a statesman ; and the wit, a gnat \ 
 The ass, an alderman ; the scold, a cat ; 
 The wife, a ring-dove, on the myrtle's top ; 
 The wolf, a lawyer ; the baboon, a fop ! 
 
THE RULING PASSIO^^ 179 
 
 Life is a print-shop, where the eye may trace 
 A different outline, marked in every face ; 
 From chiefs, who laurels reap in fields of blood, 
 Down to the hind, who tills those fields for food ; 
 From the lorn nymph, in cloistered abbey pent, 
 Whose friars teach to love, and to repent, 
 To the young captive in the Haram's bower, 
 Blest for a night, and empress of an hour ; 
 From ink's retailers, perched in garret high, 
 Cobwebbed around with many a mouldy lie ; 
 Down to the pauper's brat, .who, luckless wight ! 
 Deep in the cellar first received the light ; 
 All, all impelled, as various passions move, 
 To write, to starve, to conquer, or to love ! 
 All join to shift Life's versicoloured scenes, 
 Priests, poets, fiddlers, courtesans and queens ; 
 And be it pride, or dress, or wealth, or fame, 
 The acting principle is ne'er the same. 
 Each takes a different I'out, o'er hill, or vale, 
 The tangled forest, or the greensward dale. 
 But they, who chiefly crov/d the field, are those, 
 Who live by fashion- — constables and beaus. 
 The first, I ween, are men of high report. 
 The law's staff-officers, and known at court. 
 The last, sweet elves, whose rival graces vie, 
 To wield the snuff-box, or enact a sigh : 
 To Fashion's gossamer their lives devote. 
 The frieze, the cane, the cravat and the coat. 
 In taste unpolished, yet in ton precise, 
 They sleep at theatres, and wake at dice ; 
 While, like the pilgrim's scrip, or soldier's pack, 
 They carry all their fortune on their back. 
 
180 THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 From fops, we turn to pedants, deep and dull ; 
 Grave, without sense ; "o'erflowing, yet not full." 
 See, the lank book-worm, piled with lumbering lore^ 
 Wrinkled in Latin, and in Greek fourscore. 
 With toil incessant, thumbs the ancient page, 
 Now blots a hero, now turns down a sage ! 
 O'er Learning's field, with leaden eye he strays, 
 Mid busts of fame, and monuments of praise. 
 With Gothick foot, he treads on flowers of taste, 
 Yet stoops to pick the pebbles from the waste. 
 Profound in trifles, he can tell, hoAv short 
 Were ^sop's legs, how large was Tully's wart ; 
 And, scaled by Gutter, marks, with joy absurd, 
 The cut of Homer's cloak, and Euclid's beard ! 
 
 Thus through the weary watch of sleepless night, 
 This learned ploughman plods in piteous plight ; 
 'Till the dim taper takes French leave to doze, 
 And the fat folio tumbles on his toes. 
 
 Born in the fens of Dulness, dank and mute. 
 Where lynx might sleep, and half-starved owlet hoot ; 
 With head of adamant, and nerves of steel ; 
 Without or pulse to throb, or soul to feel ; 
 Not WaiTen's glory could one bliss supply, 
 Nor Trenck's captivity excite a sigh. 
 Should Beauty's queen, in all her charms disclosed, 
 As when to Paris' wondering eyes exposed, 
 She loosed her cestus, and unyoked her doves, 
 And stood unveiled 'mid Ida's conscious groves, 
 Attempt, with lovliest attitude of Art, 
 To warm the polar current of his heart ; 
 
THE RULING PASSION. 181 
 
 Vain were the toil, as Alexander's plan, 
 To carve mount Athos to the form of man ! 
 
 Next in the group, a love-lorn maid we trace, 
 Whose heart was virtue, and whose form is grace. 
 In Life's gay prime, when passion, pure as truth. 
 Bids the blood frolick through the veins of youth ; 
 The plighted vow her easy ear received, 
 The proffered faith her glowing heart believed. 
 Artless herself, she thought the world so too. 
 Nor feared those vices, which she never knew. 
 Ill-fated girl, thy erring steps declare, 
 Truth should suspect, and Innocence beware ! 
 
 Ere, ripe for bliss, consenting hearts unite ; 
 Ere retrospection chill the young delight ; 
 The airy web of Fancy's dreams to prove. 
 Unbind the bandeau from the brow of Love ! 
 
 Sad be the hour, in Memory's page forlorn ; 
 The cypress shade it, and the willow mourn ; 
 When the fond maid, subdued in Reason's trance, 
 Child of Desire, and pupil of Romance, 
 Beneath the pensile palm, or aloed grove. 
 Like Cleopatra, yields the world for love. 
 Poor is the trophy of seductive Art, 
 Which, but to triumph, subjugates the heart ; 
 Or, Tarquin-like, with more licentious flame, 
 Stains manly truth to plunder female fame. 
 Life's deepest penace never can atone. 
 For Hope deluded, or for Virtue flown, 
 
182 THE IIULING PASSIOJT. 
 
 Yet such there are, whose smooth, perfidious smile 
 Might cheat the tempting crocodile in guile. 
 Thorns be their pillow ; agony their sleep ; 
 Nor e'en the mercy given, to " wake and weep I" 
 May screaming night-fiends, hot in recreant gore, 
 Rive their strained fibres to their heart's rank core, 
 Till startled Conscience heap, in wild dismay, 
 Convulsive curses on the source of day ! 
 
 But, see, what form, so sprigged, behooped, and sleek, 
 "With modern head-dress on a block antique. 
 Trips through the croud, and, ogling all who pass, 
 Stares most demurely, through an Op'ra glass ! 
 Sunk in the wane, she courts the gay parade ; 
 A belle of Plato's age, a sweet old maid. 
 While lived her beauty, (for 'tis now a ghost 1) 
 The fair one's envy, and the fopling's toast ; 
 What slaughtered heai'ts by her fierce eye-beams fell. 
 Let Fiction's brokers, bards and tombstones, tell. 
 Fled are the charms, which graced that ivory brow ; 
 Where smiled a dimple, gapes a wrinkle now : 
 And e'en that pouting lip, where whilom grew 
 The mellow peach-down, and the ruby's hue. 
 No more can trance the ea.r with sweeter sounds, 
 Than fairies warble on enchanted grounds ! 
 
 Now, hapless nymph, she wakes from dreams of bliss. 
 The knee adoring, and the stolen kiss ; 
 And for the Persian worship of the eye, 
 Meets the arch simper of the mimick sigh. 
 Still she resolves her empire to regain, 
 And rifles Fashion, tortures Art, to reign. 
 
THE RULING PASSION. 183 
 
 Oft at the ball, she flaunts, in flowers so gay, 
 She seems December in the robes of May ; 
 And oft, more coy, coquettes behind her fan 
 That odious monster — dear, sweet ci'eature, man ! 
 
 At length, grown ugly, past the aid of gold ; 
 And, spite of essences and rouge, grown old ; 
 Each softer passion yields to Pride's controul. 
 And sour Misanthropy usurps her soul. 
 Now, first on man, the spleeny gossip rails, 
 Arraigns his justice, and his taste assails ; 
 Till, as her tea's exhausted fragrance flies, 
 Her wit evaporates, her scandal diss. 
 Yet still invidious of the art to bless. 
 She blasts the joys, she lingers to possess; 
 And, while on Hymen's bridal rites she sneers. 
 Her pillow trickles with repentant tears. 
 While thus, to all her sex's pleasvires dead. 
 She vents her rage on Adam's guilty head, 
 Who rather chose, than lose his rib for life. 
 To have the crooked member made a wife ; 
 From waking woe to visioned bliss she flies, 
 And dreams of raptures, which her fate denies. 
 The tender flame, which Avarmed her youthful mind, 
 By affectation's mawkish rules confined. 
 Though quenched its heat, illumes with many a ray, 
 The tedious evening of her fading day ; 
 And though unknown, vinnoticed, and unblest, 
 Still suns the impassive winter of her breast. 
 
 Next comes the miser, palsied, jealous, lean. 
 He looks the very skeleton of Spleen ! 
 
184 I'HE RULING PASSlON. 
 
 *Mid forests drear, he haunts, in spectred gloom, 
 Some desert abbey, or some druid's tomb ; 
 Where, hersed hi earth, his occult riches lay, 
 Fleeced from the world, and buried from the day. 
 With crutch in hand, he points his mineral rod, 
 Limps to the spot, and turns the well-known sod ; 
 While there, involved in night, he counts his store, 
 By the soft tinklings of the golden ore ; 
 He shakes Avith terror, lest the moon should spy, 
 And the breeze whisper, where his treasures lie. 
 
 This wretch, who, dying, would not take one pill, 
 If living, he must pay a doctor's bill. 
 Still clings to life, of every joy bereft ; 
 His god is gold, and his religion theft ! 
 And, as of yore, when modern vice was strange, 
 Could leathern money current pass on 'change, 
 His reptile soul, whose reasoning powers are pent 
 Within the logick bounds of cent per cent. 
 Would sooner coin his ears, than stocks should fall, 
 And cheat the pillory, than not cheat at all ! 
 
 To fame unknown, to happier fortune born. 
 The blithe Savoyard hails the peep of morn j 
 And while the fluid gold his eye surveys. 
 The hoary Glaciers fling their diamond blaze ; 
 Geneva's broad lake rushes from its shores, 
 Arve gently murmurs, and the rough Rhone roars. 
 'Mid the cleft Alps, his cabin peers from high, 
 Hangs o'er the clouds, and perches on the sky. 
 O'er fields of ice, across the headlong flood. 
 From cliff" to cliff he bounds in fearless mood. 
 
THE RULING PASSION, 185 
 
 While, far beneath, a night of tempest lies, 
 Deep thunder mutters, harmless light'ning flies ; 
 While, far above, from battlements of snow, 
 Loud torrents tumble on the world below ; 
 On rustick reed he wakes a merrier tune. 
 Than the lark warbles on the "Ides of June." 
 Far off, let Glory's clarion shrilly swell ; 
 He loves the musick of his pipe as well. 
 Let shouting millions crown the hero's headj i 
 And Pride her tesselated pavement tread ; 
 More happy far, this denizen of air 
 Enjoys what Nature condescends tQ spare : 
 His days are jocund, undisturbed his nights ; 
 His spouse contents him, and his mule delights I 
 
 All hail, sweet Poesy ! transcendent maid 1 
 To whom my fond youth's earliest vows were paid ; 
 Who, dressed in sapphire robes, with eye of fire. 
 Didst first my unambitious rhyme inspire ; 
 Lured by whose charms, I left, in passioned hope, 
 My Watts's Logick for the page of Pope ; 
 if e'er regardful of thy wildered sons. 
 For whom so gingerly Life's current runs ; 
 Who, like the slaves, beneath the iron sway 
 Of cursed Mezentius lingering, loath the day. 
 Doomed, horrid Fate ! the living Muse to see. 
 Bound to the mouldering corpse of Penury ; 
 Descend, like Jove, suffused in golden shower, 
 And on our garret-roofs the rain drops pour ! 
 But if the current of Castalia's waves 
 No Wicklo\f mine, no Georgian acre, laves ; 
 24 
 
186 THE RULING PASSION 
 
 If still bleak Want must chill thy votaries' fire — 
 Their taste extinguish, and take back thy lyre. 
 
 Where you send genius, send a fortune too ; 
 Dunces by instinct thrive, as oysters woo ! 
 For ne'er were veins of ore by chymist found, 
 Except, like Hebrew roots, in barren ground ! 
 
 Each scribbling wight, who pens a birth-day card, 
 Was born, as grannams say, to be a bard ! 
 Which is, in prose, if rightly understood. 
 To chum with spiders, and catch flies for food. 
 
 In Youth's gay flush, when first the sportive Muse 
 Each bright ephemera of the brain pursues ; 
 Ere sobered Fancy, touched by Reason's ray, 
 Sees all her frost-work castles melt away ; 
 Were, then, the enthusiast bard, like Moses, led 
 To Pisgah's top, and life in vision spread ; 
 There, while he blessed the promised land, were told, 
 The Canaan, he must ne'er possess, was gold j 
 How many minstrels of the classick lay 
 Had left the Appian, for the Indian way ! 
 How few would lumber, negligent of pelf. 
 The Printer's garret, or the Grocer's shelf! 
 
 Fame, that bright phantom, flitting, vain, and coy, 
 Is all the meed, which poets e'er enjoy ; 
 Nor e'en her fickle, short embrace possess, 
 'Till all her charms have lost the power to bles's. 
 
THE RULING PASSION. 187 
 
 Heroes and bards, who nobler flights have won, 
 Than Cesar's eagles, or the Mantuan swan, 
 From eldest era, share the common doom ; 
 The sun of Glory shines but on the tomb. 
 Firm, as the Mede, the stern decree subdues 
 The brightest pageant of the proudest Muse. 
 Man's noblest powers could ne'er the law revoke, 
 Though Handel harmonized what Chatham spoke ; 
 Though tuneful Morton's magick genius graced 
 The Hyblean melody of Merry's taste ! 
 
 Time, the stern censor, talisman of fame, 
 With rigid justice, portions praise and shame : 
 And, while his laurels, reared where Genius grew, 
 'Mid wide Oblivion's lava bloom anew ; 
 Oft will his chymick fire, in distant age, 
 Elicit spots, unseen on ancient page. 
 
 So the famed sage, who plunged in Etna's flame, 
 'Mid pagan deities enshrined his name ; 
 *Till from the iliack mountain's crater thrown, 
 The Martyr's sandal cost the God his crown. 
 
 So too Italia's victor paused, of late. 
 While the red war beleagured Mantua's gatCj 
 And bade his myrmidons the village spare, 
 Where Virgil first inhaled his natal air. 
 
 While thus of chequered life our motley lay 
 Has sketched a various, though a crude survey, 
 Say, shall Columbia's sons the theme prolong ? 
 Their <' Ruling Passion" claims our noblest song. 
 
188 THE RULING PASSION*. 
 
 Theirs is the pride, bequeathed by glorious sires, 
 To guard their Lares, and protect their fires ; 
 To rear a race, enlightened, brave and free, 
 Heirs of the soil, and tenants of the sea ; 
 Whose breasts the Union shield, its laws revere, 
 As country sacred, and as freedom dear. 
 
 Long as our hardy yeomanry command 
 The rich fee-simple of their native land ; 
 Wliile, mid the labours of the ripening plain. 
 They form the phalanx, and the courser train ; 
 While, in our martial school, are chiefs enrolled, 
 As Lincoln pi'udent, and as Putnam bold ; 
 While, Catilme expelled, our senate prize 
 Hearts, just as Russell's ; heads, as Bowdoin's, wise ; 
 While guides our realm a patriot sage, who first. 
 When Power's volcano o'er our nation burst, 
 Unawed, like Pliny, saw the flame aspire. 
 And cities sink in cataracts of fire ; 
 Undaunted heard the rocking of the spheres, 
 While all Vesuvius thundered in his ears : 
 No longer dread Columbia's gallant host, 
 The fierce invader, lowering on their coast ; 
 Nor wiles of traitors, nor Corruption's power ; 
 Nor Blount's conspiracy, nor Randolph's " flour !" 
 
 Of late, in Gorgon's hall, from Anarch's tub, 
 What Rhetorick graced the orgies of the Club ? 
 But now, an injured people, wiser grown, 
 Taught dear Experience, by the wrongs they've known ;■ 
 This maxim hold, which much fine spouting saves, 
 ,Ex-clusive patriots are co?z-t:lusive knaves ! 
 
THE RULING PASSION. 189 
 
 Stern power of justice, whose uplifted hand 
 Would sweep from earth Sedition's wayward band ; 
 Scourged by their crimes, redeem the scattered host, 
 Nor let the remnant of her tribe be lost ; 
 With arm relenting, to their morbid gaze, 
 The mystick serpent of thy mercy raise : 
 The sins of Faction, now deceased, forgive, 
 While her repenting sons look up and live ! 
 
 From foreign feud, and civil discord free, 
 As is Columbia, may she ever be ! 
 May Europe's storms ne'er damp the generous flame. 
 Which warms each bosom for his country's fame ! 
 Long roll between our shores the Atlantick tide ; 
 Wide as our hemispheres, our laws divide ! 
 And should some earthquake, with more powerful vent, 
 Than that, which Dover's cliffs from Calais rent, 
 With prisoned force insurging Neptune's reign. 
 Convulse the deep foimdations of the main, 
 Till both the continents, in Nature's fright, 
 Cleft from their bases, totter to unite ; 
 May Fate the closing empires intervene, 
 And raise, when Ocean sinks, an Alps between ! 
 
 In realms, where Law and Liberty unite. 
 In the broad charter of co-equal right. 
 Where publick Will invests the civil sway, 
 Where those, who govern, must in turn obey ; 
 From Party's chrysalis, unseen to rise, 
 The buzzing beetle of Ambition flies. 
 What time, those fiends accursed no longer draw 
 The People's sanction from the People's law ; 
 
190 THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 What time, the choral hymn of Union flows. 
 And Concord's temple hears a nation's vows ; 
 When every sect supports, with patriot zeal, 
 One vmiversal creed, the publick weal : 
 Then, blest Columbia, shall thy spotless fame 
 Shine, like the vestal lamp's perennial flame 1 
 Then shall thy car disperse, thy Trident awe 
 The hovering hordes of predatory war ; 
 Thy neutral flag protect its wealthy sail, 
 Freight every tide, and charter every gale ; 
 The deep Patowmac's sea-like breast sustain 
 The keels of fleets, the commerce of the main : 
 And, while their giant shades project from high, 
 The walls of Washington shall lift the sky ; 
 And see, expanding round thy Civick Dome, 
 The bay of Naples, and the towers of Rome 1 
 
 When Asian kingdoms, whelmed in moral guilt, 
 By Terror governed, as on rapine built. 
 Like lost Palmyra, only shall be known. 
 By sculptured fragments of Colossal stone; 
 When thou, as musing TuUy paused and wept, 
 Where Syracuse and Archimedes slept. 
 With solemn Sorrow and with pilgrim feet, 
 Shalt trace the shades of Vernon's still retreat, 
 And, as the votive marble's faithful page 
 Inscribes to Fame the Saviour of his age, 
 Shalt dew the knee-worn turf, with streaming eyes, 
 Where, urned in dust, the mighty Fabius lies : 
 Thy realm, maturing 'mid the feathery flight 
 Of ages, trackless as the plumes of light, 
 
THE RULING PASSION. 191 
 
 In vigorous youth, the vital power shall prove 
 Of private Virtue ripening publick Love ; 
 Which, iEgis-like, shall more thy foes appal, 
 Than China's fence, or Albion's floating wall ; 
 Shall bid thy empire flourish and endure, 
 Thy people happy, and thy laws secure ; 
 Thy Phoenix -Glory renovate its prime. 
 Extend with Ocean, and exist with Time. 
 
NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 Page 177, line 2. 
 That little uiforld, that greater ■tvo7ider, man, 
 
 Oo intimate is the analogy betv/een the physical and moral king- 
 doms, that man is not unfrequently styled a microcosm. To define 
 every feature of the resemblance, would fill volumes ; and were the 
 natural history of this " Biped without feathers/ in all his 
 affections, seasons, and properties, written with the greatest per- 
 spicacity, it would demand more talent and labour, than the phi- 
 losophical or botanical researches of a Linnaeus, or a Darwin. 
 
 Page 177, line 14. 
 Than Jove, in Ovid^s "Green-Room" of the gods .' 
 
 There is a Magazine of theatrical biography published annually 
 in London, called "The Green-Room ;" which is not only replete 
 with sketches of the dramatick characters of the actors and actresses, 
 but is sometimes enlivened with the tender anecdote of private 
 amour. 
 
 Ovid, who " took a peep behind the curtain" of Olympus, has 
 Pasquin-jre<i the intrigues of Jupiter's court in the same figurative 
 style of elegant " tete a tete !" 
 
 Page 178, line 16. 
 A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts f 
 The Egyptian mytholegy was so heterogeneous and absurd, that, 
 not confined to the extensive regions of animated nature, that hiero- 
 glypical nation stupidity descended to the vegetable world, to fill the 
 
NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. -193 
 
 niches of their temples. " In Egypt," says a learned writer, "it was 
 more difficult to find a man, than a God." 
 
 Page 180, line 2. 
 
 ' ■ o^erflotuiii^, yet not full. 
 
 A PARODY on part of the last line in the following passage of Denr 
 ham's "Cooper's Hill." 
 
 Though deep, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull ; 
 Strong, without rage ; without o'erflovving, full." 
 
 Page 180, lines 11—12. 
 Profound in trifles, he can tell, hoiv short 
 Were ^sop's le^s, hoiv large was Tully's -wart f 
 
 .Esop, the Phrygian, the most celebrated fabulist of antiquity, 
 was not only disfigured in his legs, but was deformed in almost every 
 other part of his body. 
 
 Marcus Tullius Cicero, the father of Roman oratory, is said 
 to have received his last appellation, from an uncommon excrescence 
 on his cheek, resembling a Cicer, or vetch. 
 
 Page 185, line 26. 
 Eound to the mouldering' corpse of Penury ! 
 
 Mef entius, a prince of the Tyrrhenes, a contemner of the gods. 
 Was the inventor of the savage punishment of binding the devoted 
 offender to the putrescent body of some victim, sacrificed to his bar- 
 barity. 
 
 Page 186, line S-^&. 
 For ne^er ivere veins of ore by chymist fotmd. 
 Except, like Hebrew roots, in barren ground. 
 Those spots of earth, which are impregnated by mineral strata, 
 are generally distinguished by the desolate aridity of their surface, 
 which is totally insufficient to support the vegetation even of gram'» 
 inous productions. 
 35 
 
194 NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 
 
 Page 187, 9—10. 
 Though tuneful MoHoii' s viagick genius graced 
 The Ihjhlean melody of Merry's taste ! 
 Robert Merry, esquire, the oiily pupil in the school of Collins, 
 who possesses the genius of his master, is the author of those ele- 
 gant poems in the British Album, signed Delia Crusca, of Paulina — 
 the Pains of Memory, and several dramatick pieces. In the summeC 
 of 1791, he married Miss Brunton, a celebrated actress in Covent- 
 Garden theatre, and no less admired for her pre-eminent talents as a 
 daughter of the Buskin, than esteemed as a woman of unblemished 
 principles, and polished accomplishments. 
 
 Mrs. Morton, of Dorchester, the reputed authoress of an heroick 
 Poem, of much merit, entitled " Beacon-Hill," may, without hesita- 
 tion, be announced the American Sappho. 
 
 Page 187, line 14. 
 ^JVCid -wide Oblivmi's lava bloom ane-w. 
 It is a fact, that, in countries, subject to volcanick inundation, 
 the subsiding lava super-induces a fertility of soil, not to be equalled 
 by the most exuberant luxuriance of the tropical climates. 
 
 Page 187, line 20. 
 The Martyrs' sandal cost the God his croivn. 
 Empedocles is recorded, in fabulous history, to have leaped 
 into the flames of ^tna, to obtain, in the dark ages of paganism, an 
 apotheosis for his memory ; but the brass slipper, which he had worn 
 during his hermitage in a cave of the mountain, was soon after 
 thrown up by the volcano, and exposed the impostor to the world. 
 
 Page 187, line 24. 
 Where Virgil first inlMled his natal air. 
 This event, so honourary to the character of Buonaparte, took 
 place soon after the capitulation of Mantua. The village, which 
 boasts the nativity of this immortal bard, lies in the suburbs of that 
 city. 
 
NOTES TO THE RULING PASSION. 195 
 
 Page 188, line 20. 
 While all Vesuvius thundered in his ears. 
 The first eruption of this mountain happened in the 79th year of 
 the Christian era. Pliny, the elder, a man no less renowned for foren- 
 sick than military powers, was at that time commander of a fleet in 
 the bay of Miscnum. Unintimidated by the terrible phenomenon, 
 he hastened with his ships to the relief of the nobility and peasants, 
 whose villas and farms had been ingulphed in the flames. In this, 
 benevolent and heroick attempt, he died by suffocation. This erup- 
 tion destroyed the cities of Herculaneum, and Pompeii. To support 
 the poetick allusion, it may be necessary to add, that the burning* of 
 the towns of Charlestown and Fairfield, in the revolutionary war, 
 £jflbrds but too prominent a trait in the similitude. 
 
DEDICATORY ADDRESS ; 
 
 SlfOKEN B\' MR. HODGKINSON, OCTOBER 29, 1798, AT THE 
 
 OPENING OF THE 
 
 NEW FEDERAL THEATRE, 
 
 IN BOSTON. 
 
 Plammis I'cfcctuin, minis virescit, 
 
DEDICATORY ADDRESS, 
 
 SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF THE BOSTON THEATRE. 
 
 Once more, kind patrons of the Thespian art, 
 Friends to the science of the human heart, 
 Behold the temple of the Muse aspire, ^ 
 
 A Phoenix stage, which propagates by fire ! 
 
 Each fault rescinded, and each grace renewed, 
 By magick reared, and with enchantment viewed, 
 Our dome, new mantled, 'mid its ravaged wall, 
 Stands, like Antaeus, stronger by its fall ; 
 And like Creusa's ghost, in Trojan strife, 
 Its spectre rises larger than its life ! 
 
 Ye, who have oft with pleased observance traced 
 Each latent charm our mimick life has graced ; 
 Whose hearts yet ache, when Retrospection views 
 The woes and wanderings of the scenick Muse ; 
 Since from the cradle of her young renown. 
 Her infant warblings lured the listening town, 
 To that dark era, when one luckless hour 
 Her empire ravaged, and dethroned her power, 
 
200 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 Till proudly towering o'er the Gothick waste 
 Through chaos smiled this paradise of taste. 
 The mystick maids, who here unite their reign. 
 Whom bards and actors oft implore in vain, 
 With Truth's warm rapture, bid you welcome all. 
 Gents, belles, and godships, to their fairy hall ; 
 Where Shakespeare's spirit, who delights to flit 
 O'er criticks' noses, snoring in the pit, 
 Like Hamlet's father, armed from casque to sandals. 
 Shall " visit oft the glimpses of" our candles ! 
 
 If blest by those kind smiles, whose beams impart 
 Pulse to the brain, and vigour to the heart, 
 The Drama noAV her langu^id powers Avill rear, 
 The laugh awaken, and exhale the tear; 
 Correct, yet animate, she aims to join 
 Salvator's clouds with Hogarth's waving line. 
 And hopes, aspiringj by your favour warmed, 
 Again to charm you, as she once has charmed. 
 
 Nor need her friends, with Fear's retorted glance. 
 Recall the horrors of her late mischance, 
 When wrapt in bursting flames, and awful gloom^ 
 She saw her temple mouldering to her tomb ! 
 No more shall Nero's ravished eye behold 
 The usurping element these walls enfold ; 
 Nor shall one tear from houseless Genius start. 
 To glut the savage pleasure of his heart ! 
 
 To guard our fane,, Apollo tuned his lyre. 
 And leagued tlie gods of water and of fire ; 
 
DEDICATORS ADDRESS. 201 
 
 Crumped Vulcan deigned his Cyclop den to quit, 
 And clothe in Panolply the Dome of Wit ; 
 While Neptune gave an urn, of such vast use, 
 'Tis always filling, like the widow's cruse ! 
 
 Now, (heaven forbid 1) by hidden ways and means, 
 Should whelming fire agaia invest our scenes, 
 Lest on your heads the blazing roof should fall, 
 We'll spring the Aqueduct, and drown you all 1 
 " I'll burn first, smoke me," cries a spruce young bobby, 
 " Splash me, I shan't be fit to walk the lobby ! 
 " If roast or drown's the word, your fire commence, Sir, 
 " That clownish water always spots my spencer 1" 
 
 How wise men differ ! Water, some would think, 
 Would wash away the stain of taylor's ink ! 
 But don't swoon, beaus ! another mode we'll try, 
 To save our lives, and keep your ruffles dry. 
 From fire and water your escape is certain ; 
 Your shield of safety is— -our Iron Curtain ! 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, my duty claims 
 To tell you, that our Stage is all in flames ! 
 The fire, though strange to you the sight might be, 
 First caught Mont Blanc, and then burnt up the sea ; 
 The actors, like Octavian from his cave. 
 Rush from the Green-room, not to help, but rave ; 
 While each one scampers in the other's way. 
 Like fops' umbrellas in a rainy day ! 
 But let no belle in sweet hystericks fall ; 
 Our Ii'on Curtain will protect you all I 
 26 
 
202 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 In elder time, when first the Stage was reared, 
 'Twas nursed by patriots, and by traitors feared ; 
 Its glowing scenes, the fire of States supplied. 
 For Valour's praises waked Ambition's pride ; 
 And still the Drama, with corrected zeal, 
 Exists an engine of the publick weal. 
 Smeared with sedition, should the hand profane 
 Of plotting knaves, our nation's Chief arraign, 
 The indignant Stage would glory in the task, 
 From lui-king demagogvies to strip the mask ; 
 "Drag the dark traitor into publick shame, 
 And nail him to the pillory of Fame ! 
 In such a cause, the powers of verse would rise, 
 'Till seared, and headless. Faction's hydra dies ; 
 And the stern eagle would suspend his wing. 
 To listen, while the federal Muses sing. 
 
 No scite of clime can long protect a race, 
 Whose souls are reckless of their realm's disgrace. 
 Bid stormy oceans roll, and mountains rise. 
 Faction will cross them, and pollute your skies ; 
 Her cursed miasma speeds its fatal way. 
 The gale impregnates, and attaints the day ; 
 Her subtle root with equal vigour strikes, 
 In Gallia's hotbed, or in Holland's dykes. 
 On coldest shores, her rank luxuriance grows, 
 As Hecla flames 'mid Tluile's endless snows. 
 
 Where laws are fashioned by the publick will> 
 The helm of state demands a master's skill. 
 The social compact is a bond so weak. 
 The feuds of party can the cement break ; 
 
JDEDICATORY ADDRESS. 203 
 
 When cracked, like Rupert's drop, it mocks controul, 
 Snap but the point, and you destroy the whole, 
 
 In such mild climes, if true to Freedom's cause, 
 The people's virtue will support the laws ; 
 And Publick Spirit crush, with arm elate, 
 The fiend, who dares " to clog the wheels of state." 
 
 In France, whose motley breed extremes delight. 
 Who grin like monkeys, or like tygers fight, 
 Autun's meek priest, whose conscience knows no qualm, 
 Except the cravings of an itching palm ; 
 Who, born a miser, and a prelate reared. 
 His flock deserted, when their fleece was sheared. 
 The ancient patriots from their niches jostles, 
 And calls French pirates, Libeity's apostles ! 
 This, though the bishop spoke it, is no brag. 
 For he's the Judas, and still bears the bag I 
 
 But, thanks to heaven, who propped our wavering state. 
 And saved its glory from Venetian fate, 
 This silk-worm knave in vain has wound his maze. 
 In vain his basilisk eye has fixed its gaze ; 
 In vain the holy pimp his toils has spread. 
 And smoothed Delilah's lap for Sampson's head, 
 
 Led to the altar, by his wiles ensnared, 
 Columbia stood, for sacrifice prepared ; 
 High flamed the pyre ; her struggling arms were bound ; 
 The steel was lifted for the fatal wound ; 
 When, like the angel, who, by God's command, 
 The filial off 'ring saved from Abraham's hand, 
 
204 DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 Our guardian, Adams, robed in light divine, 
 
 Burst through the clouds which veiled the impious shrine ; 
 
 The dagger seized, the felon chords released, 
 
 And snatched the victim from the apostate priest ! 
 
 France stood aghast ; the palsying wonder ran ; 
 The five kings trembled in their dark divan ! 
 Compelled new schemes of vengeance to devise, 
 They changed the lion's for the hyaena's cries. 
 No more their menanced wrath assailed our ears ; 
 In sooth they seemed, " like Niobe, all tears I" 
 
 As some old Bawd, who all her life hath been 
 A fungus, sprouting from the filth of sin; 
 Whose dry trunk seasons in the frost of Vice, 
 Like radish, saved from rotting by the ice ; 
 When threatening bailiffs first her conscience awe, 
 Not with the fear of shame, but fear of law, 
 Sets out at sixty, in contrition's search, 
 Rubs garlick on her eyes, and goes to church ! 
 
 Thus Europe's courtezan, well versed in wileg, 
 Whose kisses poison, while the harlot smiles. 
 With pious sorrow hears our cannon roar, 
 ^nd swears devoutly, that she'll sin no more ! 
 
 Our rescued nation long will bless the day, 
 Which hailed their Adams cloathed in civick sway ; 
 Which saw again our eagle's pinions reared, 
 His olive courted, and his arrows feared? 
 
DEDICATORY ADDRESS. 205 
 
 Long shall the fame of our illustrious Sage, 
 The peerless statesman of a peerless age, 
 With quenchless splendour beam through many a clime. 
 And light the darkling avenues of Time. 
 His deeds, on Gloiy's marble page engraved. 
 Shall live coeval with the realm, he saved ; 
 And when, in Heaven beloved, as honoured here, 
 He shines the regent of some brighter sphere. 
 Nations shall mark the epoch of his birth, 
 With festal gratitude, and sainted mirth ; 
 And ages, yet unborn, with grateful breast, 
 Shall rise, and call the shadeof Adams blest ! 
 
206 Address, &©. 
 
 ADDRESS, 
 
 Delivered on the occasion of Master John H. Payne's fii'st appearance on 
 the Boston Stage, in the character of Young Norval. 
 
 J RiENDS of the mimick world ! our scenes this night 
 An age of fame has sanctioned to delight ! 
 Oft to their aid the Fabling Muse has come, 
 And called up Roscius, from his shroud at Rome ! 
 We, loath to wake again the classick ghost, 
 A native Roscius on our boards can boast. 
 
 A shepherd boy, in Celtick fiction drest, 
 The fire of Nature struggling in his breast, 
 Forsook his cottage to atchieve a name, 
 And found a mother, where he sought for Fame ! 
 Proud from her hand, the laurel he receives, 
 While tears of rapture glitter on its leaves ! 
 
 This night, a brother champion will advance, 
 In Thespian tournament to break the lance I 
 He throws no gauntlet at a critick age. 
 Nor dares with wits a rude encounter wage ; 
 Yet, like the Norval of a sterner clime. 
 He hopes a boy's ambition is no crime ! 
 Like him, he dares aspire to earn a name. 
 Your heart, his mother, your applause, his fame 1 
 
ADDRESS, &c. 207 
 
 Blest, if your eyes with beams of Pleasure burn ; 
 And humbly proud, if they correct, to learn ! 
 
 Thus, would he preface, with ingenuous tongue, 
 That manly worth, which should not pass unsung. 
 Though o'er his head Life's spring has scarcely smiled, 
 A classick actor cannot be a child ! 
 The rays of Fancy youthful bosoms warm. 
 Learning and Life, maturer minds inform ! 
 Yet here, in manhood's dawn, he dares to raise 
 The torch of Science, to the shrine of Praise ! 
 By Genius fired, he yields to Passion's glow ; 
 Nor I'ules by verse the prosody of woe ! 
 The tear of feeling Art can ne'er supply ; 
 The heart must moisten, e'er it melts the eye ! 
 
 His caves of voice no measured thunders roll ; 
 He speaks from nature, and he looks from sovil ! 
 In all the Drama's technick lore untaught, 
 He reads by sentiment, and moves by thought. 
 When love-lorn Pathos pours its melting moan, 
 Truth's fibre trembles at his touching tone ! 
 When o'er the scene contending Passions fly, 
 He gi"oups the shadows with a Poet's eye. 
 And when his brows the hero's plumes erect, 
 " The blood of Douglas, can itself protect ;" 
 Through Fiction's range, he gives, with skill profound. 
 Genius to Grace, and eloquence to Sound ! 
 The tragick code of artificial speech 
 Taste may reject, or discipline may teach; 
 But, as the eye the trackless ridge explores, 
 Genius o'erleaps the cliff, where Labour never soai's I 
 
208 ADDRESS, &c. 
 
 A humble weed transplanted from the waste, 
 Formed the proud chapiter of Grecian taste. 
 Chance dropped the weight its yielding foliage twined. 
 And drooped, with graceful negligence inclined. 
 Sculpture a model saw, to Art unknown, 
 Copied the form, and turned the plant to stone ! 
 The chiselled weed adorned the Temple's head, 
 And gods were worshipped, where its branches spread 
 If in our Norval, candid judges find 
 Some kindred flower, to grace the stage designed ; 
 If, to the pressure, Fortune has imposed, 
 You owe those talents. Art had ne'er disclosed ; 
 If, like the graced Acanthus he appear, 
 Be you Callymachus, be Corinth here ! * 
 
EPILOGUE, &c. 209 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 TO THB soldier's DAUGHTI^R. 
 
 |;Spoken by Mrs. Stanley, in the character of the Widow Cheerly.] 
 
 JjEFORE the fatal knot is fairly tied ; 
 Before I change the widow for the bride ^ 
 Once more at this tribunal I appear, 
 A Soldier's Daughter and a volunteer. 
 Such am I now, though not by martial laws, 
 I volunteer it, in my sex's cause. 
 Ladies, I one proposal fain would make. 
 And trust you'll hear it for your country's sake. 
 While glory animates each manly nerve. 
 Shall gentle woman from the contest swerve ? 
 No! 
 
 We'll form a female army— of reserve ; 
 And class them thus : Young romps, are pioneers; 
 Widows, sharp-shooters ; wives, are fusileers ; 
 Maids, are battalion, that's — .all under twenty ; 
 And as for light troops, we have those in plenty ! 
 Our smart, gay milliners, all decked with feather^ 
 Are corps of infantry for summer weather ! 
 Our belles, who, clad in cap and pantaloons 
 Shoot as they fly, shall be our light dragoons. 
 Old maids are spies ; still fond of war's alarms, 
 They love the camp, although they don't bear armsi ! 
 Flirts are our van ; for they, provokmg elves ! 
 Draw on a battle ; but ne'er fight themselves. 
 27 
 
210 EPILOGUB TO THE 
 
 Our prudes shall sap and mine ; well versed to feign. 
 They fear no danger, though in ambush ta'en ; 
 For who'd suspect a prude, could lay a train ? 
 Gossips, who talk by rote, and kill by prattle, 
 Shall serve for bulletins to every battle. 
 Vixens the trumpet blow ; scolds beat the drum ; 
 When thus prepared, what enemy dare come ? 
 Those eyes, that even freemen could enslave, 
 Will light a race of vassals, to their grave, ; 
 So shall the artillery of female charms 
 Repel invaders, without force of arms. 
 
 If this succeeds, as I the scheme have planned, 
 I hope, at least, the honour of command. 
 Trained on this field, and disciplined by you, 
 I'm doomed to pass your critical review ; 
 For all recruits are, by the law's direction. 
 Women, or soldiers, subject to inspection. 
 In love, or arms, which claims the greater skill, 
 Eyes that can lufle, or carbines that kill ? 
 Which best displays the tacticks of the art, 
 To storm a city, or subdue a heart ? 
 Yet one distinction woman's fate obtains ; 
 When towns capitulate the victor reigns ; 
 The vassal prisoner bows him to the stroke, 
 And owns the master, that imposed the yoke. 
 But woman, vanquished, still pursues the strife. 
 She yields her freedom, to become a wife, ?" 
 And thus surrenders, but to rule for life I ,Jf 
 A Carthian war she wages with her eyes ; 
 Routed, she triumphs, and, triumphant, flies : 
 
SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER. 211 
 
 For new campaigns, she deigns to be outdone, 
 And grounds her arms to slaves, her eyes have won. 
 
 Not so the band, who till Columbia's soil, 
 Disdaining peril, and invired to toil, 
 A firm, proud phalanx, whose undaunted hand 
 A bulwark rears to guard their native land ; 
 And teach invading foes, that host to fear, 
 Which boast the name of patriot volunteer. 
 What say ye now ? If you approve my plans. 
 Receive your genei;al, with " presented fans !" 
 
 Now, brother soldiers, dare I sisters join ? 
 If you, this night, your efforts should combine, 
 To save our corps from anxious Hope and Fear, 
 And send out Mercy as a volunteer, 
 To whose white banner should the criticks flock, 
 Our rallying numbers might sustain the shock ; 
 The sword shall drop, then cease impending slaughter, 
 If Mercy's shield protect — the Soldier's Daughter. 
 
312 VALEDICTORY ADDRESS. 
 
 The following lines were spoken as a Valedictory Address, by Miss FoXj 
 a child about five years old, at her benefit in May 1807. 
 
 X* AREWELL, a long farewell ! dear patrons, friends I 
 This parting scene my infant bosom rends, 
 For spite of all my joy to see you here, 
 My heart will throb, and gush the frequent tear. 
 In you, my foster parents I behold ; 
 Your kindness bade my tender mind unfold ; 
 Warmed by your smiles, you saw me sportive run, 
 A little insect, fluttering in the sun ; 
 Urchin I am, but me you've always loved, 
 My faults you pardoned, and my ti'icks approved ; 
 My heart will break to be removed from you, 
 And oh ! my mother-^she has loved you too. 
 Full well you knew the faults of childish years ; 
 The bud must blossom, e'er the fruit appears ; 
 And oft, by smiling, you have seemed to say, 
 I'd grow a woman on some future day. 
 And then, some beau gallant my face might charm, 
 " Heaven save the mark," these eyes may do some harm^ 
 Oh ! how I've longed, that I might older grow. 
 To join this mimick world of joy and woe ; 
 And teach some future scene, with graceful ease. 
 To charm like Stanley, or like Powell please j 
 But, oh ! those' fairy prospects now are o'er. 
 Farewell ! perhaps we part to meet no more ; ^ 
 
 s 
 
VALEDICTORY ADDRESS, 213 
 
 Pardon a child, forgive her artless tears, 
 
 She leaves the friends she loves, esteems, reveres ; 
 
 Whate'er in life may be my varied lot, 
 
 Boston, dear Boston, ne'er shall be forgot ; 
 
 Nor time shall bar, nor distance interfere, 
 
 My heart shall still return to visit here j 
 
 And if Success attend my riper days. 
 
 How proud I'll be to have deserved your pi'aise. 
 
 Farewell, a sad farewell ! sires, guardians, friends ! 
 May Heaven, whose bounty all our blessings sends, 
 Pluck from Life's path the thorn that would molest, 
 And smooth Death's pillow, as you sink to rest ! 
 And then receive you, borne on white winged hours. 
 Through opening clouds, to Joy's eternal bowers 1 
 
214 EPILOGUE TO THE 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 TO THE clergyman's DAUGHTER- 
 
 Gay, as the belle, who lightens down the ball, 
 While half, who gaze, can scarcely move at all ; 
 Pert, as the elf, who, at a tonsor's shop, 
 Pops in a phantom, and pops out a fop ; 
 As vain, as beauty, and as fashion, witty, 
 A tooth-pick Epilogue should lounge the city : 
 And prattle, comme il faut^ — 'with nought to say, 
 A world of words— 'the newest kind of way I 
 
 Such was dame Epilogue, when blithe and young, 
 Of every belle she was herself the tongue ; 
 Then, a whole peerage would a play engage, 
 If she but simpered, " All the world's a stage," 
 But now, in vain she sports her ancient airs. 
 For all the " men and women" have turned " players." 
 Such is the strife among the motley rout, 
 They strip the actors, v/hile they turn them out. 
 From Shakespeare's wardrobe each a fragment snatches, 
 And bustles through his part — in " shreds and patches 'T 
 All loud alike, none perfect but in scraps, 
 They all gesticulate, but no one claps. 
 Puns by descent, ai^e wit by common law ; 
 And every foundling bon mot knows papa ! 
 
CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 215 
 
 No prompter checks the jargon universal, 
 
 For Life's a Spouting Club, — witliout rehearsal. 
 
 The smart frizeur, who deals in tropes and strops, 
 Exclaims—" a frost, a killing frost," — in crops ! 
 And vents, at fashion's cue, all cues to doff, 
 " A deep damnation on their taking off ! !" 
 The fop demurs — " to be or not to be ;" 
 " Off with his head 1" roars Bobadil, and clips — a flea ! 
 " We fly by night 1" — while boasts the swindling spark, 
 Tipstaff " peeps through the blanket of the dark ! 
 " My bond, — I'll have my bond,"— «old Foreclose cries ; 
 " Who steals my purse steals trash," — the bard replies ; 
 " Out, damned spot 1" snarls old Miss Pimple Fret ; 
 " There's rue for you," — whispers her arch soubrette. 
 The love-sick cook-maid lisps— hist, Romeo, hist 1" 
 " And snip, — ^the tailor, — rants, " List, list, oh ! list !" 
 
 While thus the stage is filled with masquerade, 
 And bankrupt Thespis mourns his plundered trade. 
 What, if in turn, — 'tis justice fairly due, — 
 The actor's eye-glass takes a squint at you ! 
 
 Sir Fopling Classick is a wight, I ween, 
 Who reads to quote, and dresses to be seen ; 
 The prince of folly, and the fool of wit, 
 He plots a dinner, to campaign a hit ; 
 With well-drest wisdom, tout a fait he looks, 
 The sage of fashion and bon-ton of books. 
 In scenick unities so sti'ict is he. 
 Time, place and action — touch and take rappee ! 
 
216 EPILOGUE TO THE 
 
 Anon, heigho ! -his critick sneeze emphatick, 
 Proclaims the raptui^es of effect dramatick. 
 In life's great play — no Stagyrite to shine — > 
 His plot is woman, and his moral wine. 
 Thus with a muse, a mistress and a bottle, 
 Gay Skelfington surmounts grave Aristotle. 
 
 His own reverse, and yet himself the time, 
 A bard in powder, and a beau in rhyme ; — 
 A man of coral, — such are fashion's powers ! 
 A plant of stone, — that vegetates and flovrers ; 
 A fragrant exhalation,— ^raised to fade,— . 
 From roseate rhetorick, and rose pomade ; — 
 A sweet confection, fit for love or — ^tea, 
 A lettered lozenge,— stuffed — poetice ;— . 
 Sir Fopling dashes, while his goblet pours. 
 And who can doubt, an empty glass encores I 
 His tropes and figures into ferment whipt. 
 See, in the froth of words, his tube is dipt ! 
 The bubble floats, — from classick suds refined, — 
 It shines — it bursts — land leaves no foam behind ! 
 Choice spirits all — his scavoir -vivre club 
 Have tickled trouts, and sure may hook a chub ! 
 
 Who delves to be a Avit, must own a mine, 
 In wealth must glitter, ere in taste he shine ; 
 Gold buys him genius, and no churl will rail. 
 When feasts are brilliant, that a pun is stale. 
 Tip wit with gold ; — each shaft with shouts is flown ;—> 
 He drinks Campaign, and must not laugh alone. 
 The grape has point, although the joke be flat 1 
 Pop ! goes the cork !— .there's epigram iu that ! 
 
CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 21 5*" 
 
 The spouting bottle is the brisk jet d' eau^ 
 Which shows how high its fountain head can throw ! 
 See ! while the foaming mist ascends the room, 
 Sir Fopling rises in the vif perfume I 
 
 But ah ! the classick knight at length perceives 
 His laurels drop with fortune's falling leaves. 
 He vapours cracks and clenches as before, 
 But other tables have not learnt to roar. 
 At last, in fashion bankrupt, as in pence. 
 He first discovers undiscovered sense — 
 And finds,— without one jest in all his bags, — « 
 A wit in ruffles is a fool in rags ! 
 
 Lorn through the lobby see the Poet steal, 
 Fregetting life, while he can live to feel; 
 To blank oblivion yielding private woe. 
 While publick virtue gives one tear to flow ; 
 And, charmed with fiction, that her sorrows bless^ 
 His fancy riots in the loved distress. 
 But ah ! — illusion sweet of tears and smiles. 
 Where virtue revels, while romance beguiles, 
 What cheerless hours doth destiny delay. 
 Till recollected life returns with day ! — 
 When he, who wanders with a poet's name, 
 Must live on friendship, while he starves on fame ! 
 
 Blest be the bard, whose tender tale inspires 
 The passioned scene with virtue's holiest fires ; 
 Who draws from brightest eyes the moistened soul 
 And bids their tributes glitter, as they roll ! 
 
 28 
 
218 EPILOGUE TO THE 
 
 To moral truth when loveliest grace is given, 
 
 The smile of Beauty is a ray from heaven ; — 
 
 Soft as the fairy web, Arachne weaves 
 
 To ward the night-dew from the lily's leaves ; 
 
 Chaste as the pity of Aurora's teai's, 
 
 When the web trembles with the pearl it bears. 
 
 Yon dapper Dash- — who screens the lobby fire— i 
 Is doughty Peter Paragraph, Esquire,— 
 Forever knov/ing — and forever known,— 
 The gay Court Calender — of all the town. 
 His brilliant fancy wings such rapid flights, 
 That his pen flashes, — like the noi'thern lights ! 
 On fashion's face he marks each patch and pimple, — 
 Notes all the Belle Assemble— -to a dimple I 
 Keeps dates of wrinkles — sets each freckle down,'— = 
 And knows the age of each old maid in. town ! 
 —Puff, and Post Obit, — ^naught is he perplexed on,- 
 And, Death or Mari'iage, — he is Clerk or Sexton ! 
 Whate'er the theme, — his is the quill to grace it, — 
 From " consumatum est"— to grave—" hie jacet !" 
 Wherever folly lies — in wise perdue, — 
 Quick as heat lightning—- and as harmless too, 
 He splinters Avords, as gamesters rattle dice^ - 
 And sparkles, like a man, who chops on ice^ 
 In daily lounge, Cornhill pave he passes. 
 To study signs, and ogle looking glasses I 
 His spleen — at vulgar gutters — ^never I'ankles ; 
 He thanks their mud — for every pair of ankles ! 
 Nor thinks, — while feasting on caprice and whim, — 
 One grace too naked, or one fop too slim ! 
 
CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 219 
 
 Belles, beaux, and blankets, — ^tiffanies and teas,—- 
 He borrows all he knows, from all he sees« 
 Then home for fame, — ^to scribble to be sure,— - 
 For every traveller must write a tour ;— ■ 
 He gives the world the gleanings of his ramble. 
 As nuts are thrown to monkies,— for a scramble ! 
 
 Eh ! — I've a full length Critick in my eye 1 
 Shall I or not ?— He'll cateh me, or I'd try I 
 Egad, I'm in for't ! — see, he's at me too ! 
 Pray, Sir, turn round,-— I'll take a profile view. 
 Nay ! — ^nouns and pronouns save such want of grace 1 
 A Poet look a critick in the face ! 
 Such courage ne'er was known 'mong rhyming elves. 
 Since they, who're criticks now, wrote tags themselves. 
 Streams, when neglected, sink to common sewers. 
 And disappointed Authors turn Reviewers !* 
 Like stagnant pools, they breathe putrescent air, 
 From the green film, their fetid bosoms bear. 
 Fie ! — frown not,— -we, who catch the trick of faces. 
 Must rouse the passions, to excite the graces : 
 Now, — in what Act, Sir, was our— e/iitasis ? 
 The busy, bustling action of our play ? 
 f' The scenes with Abigail" — ha ! there you say !— 
 " The eyes of beauty beamed with lightning thei-e," 
 " When hopeless virtue pi'oudly spurned despair." 
 Caught by a twinkle from " the eye of beauty 1" 
 A Critick too !— -most Stocick Sir, — my duty. — < 
 Nature will break,— encase her how you willy-ri? 
 A Cat in pattens is Grimalkin still. 
 
 * These two lines arc altered from tlie " Children of Thespis." 
 
220 EPILOGUE TO THE 
 
 But soft, he speaks — " An Epilogue may sport 
 
 " With a broad patent, like a fool at court ; 
 
 " But while you laugh by text, and rail by rote, 
 
 " Your author's fable has our warmest vote."—* 
 
 I thank you, Sir, — I'll have that down by note. 
 
 ■" His Hero needs no advocate at bar ; — 
 
 " We see his virtues in its native spar ! 
 
 Now,— what of Sindal ? — How did he appeal* ? 
 
 *' Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear !" 
 
 " In crime accomplished, and in wit refined, 
 
 " His very genius blurred the grace of mind." 
 
 But what of Gripe ? — " Such knaves elude the law, 
 
 *^ And live, like leeches, on the blood they draw. 
 
 *' When Gripe the balance with his conscience made, 
 
 " He kept his vices, as his stock in trade.— « 
 
 "Spawned in the alley, by its logick reared, 
 
 " He shaves a note, as Smallpeace shaves a beard ; 
 
 " And both so well their office understand, 
 
 " They trim you smooth,' — and yet conceal the hand I'* 
 
 Oh ! what is man, who, thus debased by pelf. 
 All human nature sinks in human self; 
 Who basely pilfers, with unfeeling joy, 
 A mother's picture from an artless boy ! 
 When man's deserting soul forsakes his breast, 
 To pine a death-watch in a miser's chest, 
 The starving hypocrite allegiance swears. 
 To gold and grace, to poverty and prayers ; 
 And, not one joy his flickering lamp to cheer, 
 Lives without love, and dies without a tear ! 
 Such are the, " Gripes," the meanest of their tribe, 
 Who cheat themselves, and chuckle at the bribe ; 
 
CLERGYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 22 1 
 
 Who bury nature, ere her mortal doom, 
 And drag existence in a living tomb. 
 
 In life's dark cell, pale bums their glimmering soul ; 
 A rush-light warms the winter of the pole. 
 To chill and cheerless solitude confined. 
 No spring of virtue thaws the ice of mind. 
 They creep in blood, as frosty streamlets flow, 
 And freeze with life, as dormice sleep in snow. 
 Like snails, they bear their dungeons on their backs, 
 ^nd shut out light, — ^to save a window tax ! 
 
 Not so gay Coelebs lives, nor wife, nor child, 
 E'er blessed his arms, or on his bounty smiled ; 
 Yet, touched by nature, his affections glow, 
 And claim their kindred to the man of woe. 
 Mid wine and mirth while rolls his daily round, 
 The secret want, the meek distress is found ; 
 Silent as light, and, like its source, serene. — 
 His bounty gives unknown, and warms unseen. 
 He feels, while tears the sacred joy confess, 
 Man likens God, when he has power to bless, 
 
 Criticks there are, who boast a noble race ; 
 Who twine with genius every lettered grace ; 
 Candid to censure, generous to commend. 
 The polished scholar, and the faithful friend. 
 Loved by the Muse, they feel the poet's fire, 
 And soothe the minstrel, while they tune his lyre ; 
 On private merit, publick fame they raise. 
 For everj' Nation shares its Author's praise. 
 
222 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER, 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 TO THE POOR LODGER. 
 
 -En^er Harriet. 
 
 W iTH anxious heart, that beats for perils past, 
 Your happy Harriet now comes home, at last : 
 A home, indeed ! where oft, each generous mind 
 With fame has cheered her, and with taste refined ; 
 Where first, her powers indulgent to disclose, 
 You op'd the petals of the budding rose ; 
 Bade the young stalk, with trembling blossoms, rise, 
 Warmed by your beams, though foreign to your skies, 
 And placed, — oh, grateful joy I with fondest care, 
 The fostei'ed flow'ret in your own fiarterre I ' 
 
 Enter Sir Harry, 
 
 Sir Har. Sure, such a flower would flourish, any where I 
 
 Har. Gallant, Sir Harry— 
 
 Sir Har. — Harley, happy lover ! 
 
 But I, as happy, am for life,— 
 
 Har. —a rover — 
 
 Forever on a voyage,- 
 
 Sir Har. —that ne'er is over. 
 
 Har. Spoke like a gownsman — 
 
 Sir Har. — No, I scorn the schools, 
 
 Wit may be wisdom, but all wits are fools. 
 
EPILOGUE TO TfiE POOR LODGEE. 223 
 
 Har. The slaves of fools — ^the most unlucky elves- 
 Life's feast they cater — 
 
 Sir Har. — ^but ne'er eat themselves—* 
 
 One bliss they have, all other joys, above— 
 
 Enter Lord Harley. 
 
 L. Har. What's that, Sir Harry ?— 
 Sir Har. ( With allusion.) —To be blest in love. 
 L. Har. And none should envy, whom the fair approve. 
 Sir Har. (Assuming himself.) White hours attend you—/ 
 bang «/z— Adieu ! 
 Ask not my rout — for none I ever knew — 
 And yet there's one I always shall pursue — 
 (Mimicking.) Cross channel, take chaise, down glass, look 
 
 profound— 
 " Eh ! — I say — Coachee-^-whither am I bound ?" 
 
 ^Going off ; noise without.^ betiveen the Widow and 
 Joblin. Sir Harry lookiiig out. 
 Prime .'—Our old widow sparring like Mendozal 
 
 Widow entering, and Joblin. 
 
 Wid. Not I ! don't think I'll pay— 
 
 Job. — Dick's ybrft'w— 
 
 Wid. —No, Sir, 
 
 Maifois ! (Bridling.) 
 
 Job. I'll charge it, then, as I'm— 
 
 Dick. (Pofiping in.) — a grocer. 
 
 Job. Dick, claim your rights, and don't stand there a grin- 
 ning— 
 
 Wid. You marry Harriet — 
 
 Dick. —Yes — I'm very winning—- 
 
 I courted purely— 
 
224 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER, 
 
 Job. —-put on all his graces— 
 
 And looked and talked' — 
 
 Dick. —as fine as aunty's lace is. 
 
 Sir Har. And sighed, no doubt, as sweet as father's mace isi 
 
 Wid. No wife, no fortune — 
 
 Sir Har. — 'what a city drove ! 
 
 Dick. Then / be certain, / be crossed in love — 
 
 L. Har. Ne'er mind it, Dick, 'tis no great odds in life, 
 To lose a fortune, or,— 
 
 Job. —to gain a wife— 
 
 Sir Har. C Who has been reconnoitering the Widow.) 
 Pray, did this gay antique ere chance to pop 
 Within the purlieus of a frizeur's shop ? 
 
 Wid. Did'st ever see, the making — 
 
 Sir Har. ■ — of— 
 
 Dick. —a fop ! 
 
 Sir Har. Prime and bang up ! — Why, widow, Dick's a wit ; 
 Give him the fortune, he'll have need of it ! 
 
 Job. Nay, fear not, Dick — be witty as you will — 
 1 wrote a rebus once — 
 
 Dick. — who nibbed the quill ? 
 
 L. Har. (To Widow Danvers, who has been talking afiart 
 with him. At the same time Poor Lodger enters above.) 
 Your generous offer I can ne'er reprove ; 
 But I have wealth enough in Harriet's love. 
 
 Har. (Advancing.) Nay, since a fortune be in search of 
 owners, 
 
 P.Lodg. (Coming down.) Adopt our author, and be you 
 the donors ! (To the audience.) 
 {"ortUne, who feeds all other fools on earth. 
 Was never present at a Poet's biith ! 
 
EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 225 
 
 ThI oaf of Nature all her care partakes ; 
 
 The child of mind she smiles on, and forsakes. 
 
 And though each Muse has sought her fond regard— 
 
 Job. She ne'er would stand godmother to a bard. 
 
 P. Lodg. Each well-dressed driv'ler lettered fame exacts. 
 
 Sir Har. Well ! — Books are lettered only on their backs. 
 There's pedigree in dress ; none else has charms ; 
 A coat of fashion is a coat of arms ! 
 
 P. Lodg. Hence the wise world, not wiser than of old, 
 That toiling chemist, still extracting gold, 
 Neglecting still Wealth's noblest use and end, 
 To polish man, and social life defend,^ 
 Calls sacred genius Nature's waste of pains, 
 The gift of Fortune— 
 
 Job. C Who has beenJidgeiting.J—CxiVGS the want of brains ! 
 
 Wid. There, Dick— 
 
 Sir Har. — Conclusive^— . 
 
 Dick. —Father, don't you sham ? 
 
 Job. I'll prove, by ledger — 
 
 Dick. ^what a wit I am. 
 
 Ha?: Since then a wit yourself with wealth ; to spare it. 
 Reward our Poet — - 
 
 Job. — he shall have our garret I 
 
 Dick. No father — had " Poor Lodgers" there, enough. 
 
 Sir Har. What would your wisdom, then ? — 
 
 Dick. — wi'ite him a Puff ! 
 
 Har. Truce to our trifling ; — now, our author craves 
 'i'hat just decision, which condemns, or saves. 
 
 P. Lodg. ( Coming forward.) A father, rescued by a child, 
 disowned — 
 
 Har. Has, by his kindness, every fault atoned, 
 
 29 
 
226 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 
 
 X. Har. We all are wanderers—- all mistake our way— . 
 
 P. Lodg. Yet faithful Nature never goes astray. 
 Life's a great Inn ; and each is but a guest j 
 Beneath this roof, then, let us take our rest. 
 And while, to errors past, I drop a tear — 
 
 Har. May our " Poor Lodger" find a welcome, here ! 
 
MONODY 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 LIEUTENANT GENERAL SIR JOHN MOORE. 
 
 "He was the mark and glass, copy and book, 
 " That fashioned others." Shakespeare. 
 
MONODY. 
 
 Scene, Comnna....Tiu%, Evening Tnvittght. 
 
 W HAT glitt'ring form sweeps hurried o'er the main. 
 And, hov'ring, ponders o'er yon dark champaign, 
 Where bleak Corunna's bleeding waste extends. 
 And war's red bolt from bursting clouds descends ? 
 I know Thee now, by thy majestiek charms ; 
 Bright Island Goddess, Queen of arts and arms ! 
 
 High on thy barque, alone, thou spurn' st the flood, 
 Which deluged nations still o'erwhelms with blood. 
 The foaming tempest, Avhile it strikes thy shore^ 
 Exalts tliy flag, and bids thy forests roar. 
 Calm on tlie surge, thy fixed, unaltering eye 
 Surveys the storm that breaks against the sky j 
 O'er mountain waves, along the whirlwind's race, 
 It dares tlie journey of the blast to trace. 
 
 But now, alas ! thy robes imperial flow, 
 In all the frantick negligence of woe ; 
 
230 MONODY ON MOORE. 
 
 With burning bosom, o'er the darkling wave, 
 
 Thou com'st to kneel beside thy Warriolir's grave j 
 
 Where sacred sleeps, in village turf enshrined, 
 
 That gallant form, w^hich breathed a nation's mind. 
 
 Fame o'er his recent sod no statue i^ears, 
 
 But Victory writes his epitaph in tears ! ' 
 
 Let Triumph weep ! In Freedom's generous van 
 
 To die for glory, is to die for man ; 
 
 The bleeding Patriot, with a seraph's eye, 
 
 Sees through each wound a passage to the sky. 
 
 Lamented Moore ! how loved, how graced, wert Thou ! 
 What air majestick dazzled on thy brow ! 
 By genius raised, and by ambition fired, 
 To die distinguished, as to live admired ; 
 In battle brilliant, as in council grave ; 
 Stern to encounter, but humane to save ; 
 Virtue and valour in thy bosom strove, 
 Which most should claim our homage or our love. 
 In thee they flowed without the pulse of art. 
 The throbbing life-blood of thy fervid heart ; 
 While, warm from Nature, panting Honour drew 
 That vital instinct. Heaven imparts to few ; 
 That pride of arms, which prompts the brave design. 
 That grace of soul, which makes the brave divine ! 
 
 His heart elate, with modest valour bold. 
 Beat with fond rage, to vie with chiefs of old. 
 Great by resolve, yet by example warmed, 
 Himself the model of his glory formed. 
 A glowing trait from every chief he caught ; 
 He paused like Fabius, and like Cesar fought. 
 
MONODY ON MOORE. 231 
 
 His ardent hope surveyed the heights of fame, 
 peep on its rocks, to grave a soldier's name ; 
 And o'er its cliifs to bid the banner wave, 
 A Briton fights, to conquer and to save. 
 
 On martial ground, the school of heroes' taught. 
 He studied battles, where campaigns were fought. 
 By science led, he traced each scene of fame. 
 Where war had left no stone without a name. 
 Hills, streams and plains bore one extended chart 
 Of warriors' deeds, and showed of anus the art. 
 The tactick canvass all its lore revealed. 
 To seize the moment, and dispose the field. 
 Here, still and desperate, near the midnight pass. 
 Couched ambush listened in the deep morass ; 
 There, Skill, opposed by Fortune, shaped its way. 
 With prompt decision, and with firm array ; 
 Here, paused the fight, and there the contest raved, 
 A squadron routed, or an empire saved ! * 
 
 Inspired on fields, with trophied interest graced, 
 He sighed for glory, where he mused from taste. 
 For high empi^ize his dazzling helm was plumed, 
 And all the polished patriot-hero bloomed. 
 Armed as he strode, his glorying country saw, 
 That fame was virtue, and ambition law ; 
 In him beheld, with fond delight, conspire 
 Her Marlboro's fortune and her Sidney's fire- 
 Like Calvi's rock, with clefts abrupt deformed. 
 His path to fame toiled up the breach, he stormed ; 
 Till o'er the clouds the victor chief was seen. 
 Sublime in terrour, and in height serene." 
 
232 MONODY ON MOORE. 
 
 His equal mind so well could triumph greet, 
 He gave to conquest charms, that soothed defeat. 
 The battle done, his bi'ow, with thought o'ercast, 
 Benign as mercy, smiled on perils past. 
 The death-choaked fosse, the battered wall, inspired 
 A sense, that sought him, from the field retired. 
 Suspiring pity touched that godlike heart, 
 To which no peril could dismay impart ; 
 And melting pearls in that stern eye could shine, 
 That lightened courage down the thundering line. 
 So mounts the sea-bird in the Boreal sky, 
 And sits where steeps in beetling ruin lie ; 
 Though warring whirlwinds curl the Norway seas. 
 And the rocks tremble, and the torrents freeze ; 
 Yet is the fleece, by Beauty's bosom prest. 
 The down, that warms the storm-beat Eyder's breast ; 
 Mid floods of frost, where Winter smites the deep. 
 Are fledged the plumes, on which the Graces sleep. 
 
 In vain thy cliffs, Hispania, lift the sky. 
 Where Cesar's eagles never dared to fly ! 
 To rude and sudden arms while Freedom springs, . 
 Napoleon's legions mount on bolder wings. 
 In vain thy sons their steely nerves oppose, 
 Bare to the rage of tempests and of foes ; 
 In vain, with naked breast, the storm defy 
 Of furious battle, and of piercing sky ; 
 Five waning reigns had marked in long decay, 
 The gloomy glory of thy setting day ; ^ 
 While bigot power, with dark and dire disgraccj 
 Oppressed the valour of thy gallant race. 
 
MONODY ON MOORE. 2SS 
 
 No martial phalanx, led by veteran art, 
 Combined thy vigour, or confirmed thy heart : 
 Thy bands dispersed, like Rome in wild defeat, 
 Fled to the mountains, to intrench retreat. ^ 
 
 O'er hill, or vale, where'er thy sky descends, 
 
 The pomp of hostile chivalry extends. 
 
 High o'er thy brow, the giant glaive is rearedj 
 
 Deep in the wounds of bleeding nations smeared. 
 
 Ere Britain's shield could catch th' impending blade, 
 
 Thy helm was shattered, and thy arm dismayed. 
 
 Yet, while the faulchion fell, thy brave ally 
 
 Cheered, with a blaze of mail, thy closing eye ; 
 
 By hosts assailed, her little Spartan band 
 
 Braved the swift onset, and the cool command. 
 
 t 
 
 Historick glory rushed through British veins. 
 And shades of Heroes stalked Corunna's plains ; 
 While Gallia saw, amid the battle's glare, 
 That Minden, Blenheim, Agincourt, were there ! 
 
 Loved as the sport, where erst, on Abraham's height, 
 Fate aimed her dart, as victory glanced her light : 
 Where bleeding Wolfe, with virtue's calmest pride, 
 Enjoyed the Patriot, while the Warriour died : 
 
 Firm, as the conflict, when the tumults roar 
 Rome's last great Hero woke on Egypt's shore ; 
 When Abercrombie swelled the urn of fame. 
 And mixed his dust with Pompey's mighty name : 
 
 Bold, as the blast, which winged the blaze of war, 
 Jlound the rough rocks of trembling Trafalgar ; 
 30 
 
234 MONODY ON MOORE. 
 
 When Nelson, lightening o'er the maddened wave, 
 Bade Ocean quake beneath liis coral cave ; 
 And, heavenward gazing, as his God retired, 
 Thundered in triumph, and in flames expired : 
 
 Illustrious Moore, by foe and famme prest, 
 Yet, by each soldier's proud affection blest, 
 Unawed by numbers, saw the impending host, 
 With front extending, lengthen down the coast. 
 " Charge ! Britons, Charge 1" the exulting chief exclaims, 
 Swift moves the field ; the tide of armour flames ; 
 On, on they rush, the solid column flies, 
 And shouts tremendous, as the foe defies. 
 While ail the battle rung from side to side, 
 In death to conquer, was the warriour's pride. 
 Where'er the unequal war its tempest poured, 
 The leading meteor was his glittering sword 1 
 Thrice met the fight ; and thrice the vanquished Gaul 
 Found the firm line an adamantine wall. 
 Again repulsed, again the legions drew. 
 And fate's dark shafts in vollied shadows flew. 
 Now stormed the scene, where soul could soul attest, 
 Squadron to squadron joined, and breast to breast ! 
 From rank to rank, the interpid valour glowed ; 
 From rank to rank, the inspiring Champion rode. 
 Loud bi'oke the war-cloud, as his charger sped ; 
 Pale the curved lightening quivered o'er his head I 
 Again it bursts ! Peal, echoing peal, succeeds ! 
 The bolt is launched ; the peerless Soldier bleeds I 
 Hark ! as he falls. Fame's swelling clarion cries, 
 Britania triumphs, though her Hero dies I 
 
MONODY ON MOORE. 235 
 
 The grave, he fills, is all the realm she yields, 
 And that proud empire deathless honour shields. 
 No fabled PhcEnix from his bier revives ; u 
 His ashes perish, but his Country lives ! 
 
 Immortal Dead ! with musing awe, thy foes 
 Tread not the hillock, where thy bones repose ! 
 There, sacring mourner, see, Britania spreads 
 A chaplet, glistening with the tears she sheds ; 
 With burning censer, glides around thy tomb, 
 And scatters incense, where thy laurels bloom ; 
 With rapt devotion sainted vigil keeps ; 
 Shines with Religion, and with Glory weeps ; 
 With Grief exults, with Extacy deplores ; 
 With Pride laments, and with despair adores ! 
 Sweet sleep Thee, Brave ! In solemn chaunt, shall sound 
 Celestial vespers, o'er thy sacred ground ! 
 Long ages hence, in pious twilight seen. 
 Shall quires of seraphs sanctify thy green ; 
 At curfcAV hour, shall dimly hover there. 
 And charm, with sweetest dirge, the listening air ! 
 With homage tranced, shall eveiy pensive mind 
 Weep, while the requiem passes on the wind ; 
 Till, sadly swelling, Sorrow's softest notes, 
 It dies in distance, while its echo floats ! 
 
 No stoneless sod shall hold that mighty shade. 
 Whose life could man's wide universe pervade. 
 No mould'ring prison of sepulchral earth. 
 In dumb oblivion, shall confine thy worth ; 
 The battle heath shall lift thy mai'ble fame, 
 And grow immortal, as it marks thy name. 
 
236 MONODY ON MOOBE. 
 
 Heaven's holiest tears shall nightly kiss thy dust, 
 That dawn's first smiles may gem the hero's bust ; 
 And pilgrim Glory, in remotest years, 
 ■ Shall seek thy tomb, to read the tale, it bears, 
 
 EPITAPH. 
 
 " Stop, Ruin ! stay thy scythe ! here slumbers Moore ; 
 " Whom Honour nurtured, and whom Virtue bore ! 
 "A nation's hope, adored by all the brave ; 
 ^* Heaven caught his soul, and Earth reveres his grave ! 
 " Sublime, the Christian, and the Hero, trod ; 
 « His Country all, he loved, and all, he feared his God !" 
 
NOTES TO THE MONODY. 237 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 NOTEl. 
 
 "^ squadron routed, or an empire saved.** 
 
 J.T has been universally allowed, that the classical and military 
 advantages of Sir John Moore's education were superiour to those 
 of any modern English General. These great opportunities of im- 
 provement to his tactical intuition were afforded in the school of 
 living history, on the scite of battles, marked with the vestiges of 
 victory and defeat, of stratagem and fortune. The scenes, over 
 which he dwelt with the fondest devotion, were those, which had 
 formed the theatre of the wars of the illustrious Frederick; 
 a hero, who, on one day could not place his foot on one inch 
 of sand, which would own his impression as a master ; and who, on 
 on the next day, was the lord of an empire, and, by the fame of his 
 talents, the awe, the astonishment and the admiration of Europe. 
 The line of the poem above quoted alludes to the celebrated battle, 
 which achieved this glorious event. 
 
 Had this distinguished military prince transmitted to the present 
 incumbent on his throne that character and science of arms, which 
 were so much admired, and so enthusiastically studied by Sir John, 
 when he travelled under the tutelage of his father, with the Duke of 
 Hamilton — the day, in which we live, would have been spared the 
 shame to have witnessed the disgraceful and perfidious flight of 
 Jena, nor would it have so painfully perceived the terrible distinc- 
 tion, between, 
 
 "A squadron routed, or an empire saved!" 
 
238 NOTES TO THE MONODY. 
 
 But national hypocrisy, like the fraud of individuals, is always 
 punished by a sig'nal Providence. The affectation of sovereignty is 
 but the shadow of power ; and while the hundred arms of Briareus 
 gave him the reputation of a Giant, yet this would have been but 
 an empty proclamation of strength, had he not been inspired with 
 the courage to lift even one of his fingers at his enemy. 
 "Has toties optata exe^it Gloria pxnas.''' 
 
 NOTE 2. 
 
 "Sublime in terror, and in height serene.'* 
 
 It has been the fate of Sir John Moore, a fate most severely un- 
 propitious to the reputation and honour of some administrations of 
 the British Cabinet, to be envied, opposed, checked, cramped and 
 neglected, fdurante p'otestatej from the first onset of his military 
 life. His great talents, dauntless courage, commanding' person, 
 practical knowledge, gallant virtues, contempt of selfishness, inac- 
 cessability to party, firmness in battle, and generosity to his army, 
 and above all, his rapid and comprehensive foresight of the fears 
 and the hopes of a jejunely projected expedition, and his own reject- 
 ed map of an admirable campaign, which might, in all military and 
 geographical calculation, have reduced the invaders of Spain to 
 submission or flight, condemned him to the honourable neglect of 
 the ministry, whom he despised. But this persecution had been 
 practised before, and under the same influence. At the siege of 
 Calvi, one of the mountainous, and the bestfortified towns in Corsica, 
 and to which the line in the Poem refers, Sir John was eminently 
 distinguished. It was the last, and was deemed the impregnable 
 strong hold of the Island. From the eminence of its rocks, and 
 the danger of its access, it demanded a veteran and a hero in the art 
 of war, to assault and reduce it to surrender. This exploit of skill 
 and of honour Sir John undertook and performed ; and this intrepid 
 and scientifick General's services in Corsica were rewarded by the 
 impolitick and calculating ingratitude of an invidious ministry. 
 
NOTES TO THE MONODY. 239 
 
 NOTE 3. 
 
 "Fled to the mountains, to intrench retreat." 
 Rome was built on its own seven hills, which gave security to its 
 glory, while its virtue remained. Yet its inhabitants, reared to hab- 
 its of legionary discipline, and bold in their contempt of death, had 
 not, for near five hundred years, any knowledge, either of the fosse 
 and glacis of a city, or of the entrenchment and palisade of a camp. 
 When stormed by Brennus, defeated by Pyrrhus, or overwhelmed 
 by Hannibal, the citizens of Rome, despairing of its safety, fled 
 either to the rock of the Capital, or to the mountains, which sur- 
 rounded it. The Romans gained their first knowledge of intrench" 
 ment from the conquered camp of the Grecian hero, Pyrrhus. 
 
PART III. 
 
 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 31 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 243 
 
 ODE. 
 
 RISE COLUMBIA. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the first Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
 Charitable Fire Society, 1794. 
 
 W HEN first the Sun o'er Ocean glowed, 
 
 And Earth unveiled her virgin breast^ 
 Supreme mid Natui'e's vast abode, 
 
 Was heard the Almighty's dread behest : 
 Rise, Columbia, brave and free. 
 Poise the Globe, and bound the Sea ! 
 
 In darkness wrapped, with fetters chained, 
 
 Will ages grope, debased and blind ; 
 With blood the human hand be stained, 
 
 With tyrant power, the human mind. 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. 
 
 But, lo, across the Atlantick floods. 
 
 The Star-directed pilgrim sails ! 
 See ! felled by Commerce, float thy woods ; 
 
 And, clothed by Ceres, wave thy vales ! 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. 
 
 Remote from realms of rival fame. 
 
 Thy bulwark is tliy mound of waves ; 
 The Sea, thy birth-right. Thou must claim, 
 
 Or, subject, yield the soil it laves. 
 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. " 
 
244 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Nor yet, though skilled, delight in arms ; 
 
 Peace and, her offspring, arts be thine ; 
 The face of Freedom scarce has charms, 
 
 When on her cheeks no dimples shine. 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. 
 
 While P'ame for thee, her wreath entwines. 
 To bless, thy nobler triumph prove ; 
 
 And, though the eagle haunts thy pines. 
 Beneath thy willows shield the dove. 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. 
 
 When bolts the flame, or whelms the wave. 
 Be thine to rule the wayward hour ! 
 
 Bid Death unbar the watery grave, 
 
 "And Vulcan yield to Neptune's power." 
 Rise, Columbia, &c. 
 
 Revered in arms, in peace humane, 
 - No shore, nor realm shall bound thy sway j 
 While all the virtues own thy reign, 
 And subject elements obey ! 
 
 Rise, Columbia, brave and free, 
 Bless the Globe, and rule the sea. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 245 
 
 ODE. 
 
 ADAMS AND LIBERTY. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the fourth Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
 Charitable Fire Society, 1798. 
 
 JL E sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought 
 For those rights, vrhich unstained from your Sires have 
 descended. 
 May you long taste the blessings, your valour has bought, 
 And your sons reap the soil, which their fathers defended. 
 'Mid the reign of mild Peace, 
 May your nation increase. 
 With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece ; 
 And ne'er may the sons of Columbia be slaves. 
 While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves. 
 
 In a clime, whose rich vales feed the marts of the world, 
 Whose shores are mishaken by Europe's commotion, 
 The trident of Commei'ce should never be hurled. 
 To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean. 
 But should pirates invade, 
 Though in thunder arrayed. 
 Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade. 
 For ne'er will the sons, &c. 
 
 The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway, 
 
 Had justly ennobled our nation in story, 
 'Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day, 
 
 And enveloped the sun of American glor}-. 
 
246 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 But let traitoi's be told, 
 Who their country have sold, 
 And bartered their God for his image in gold, 
 That ne'er will the sons, Sec. 
 
 While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood, 
 
 And Society's base threats with wide dissolution ; 
 May Peace like the dove, who returned from the flood. 
 Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution. 
 But though Peace is our aim, 
 Yet the boon we disclaim. 
 If bought by our Sov'reignty, Justice or Faine. 
 For ne'er shall the sons, &c. 
 
 'Tis the fire of the flint, each American warms ; 
 
 Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision. 
 Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms, 
 We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division. 
 While with patriot pride, 
 To our laws we're allied, 
 No foe can subdue us, no faction divide. 
 For ne'er shall the sons, 8cc. 
 
 Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak ; 
 
 Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished ; , 
 But long e'er our nation submits to the yoke, 
 
 Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished. 
 Should invasion impend, 
 Every grove would descend. 
 From the hill-tops, they shaded, our shores to defend. 
 For ne'er shall the sons, Sec. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 247 
 
 Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent womi ; 
 
 Lest our Liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion ; 
 Then let clouds thicken round us ; we heed not the storm ; 
 Our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion. 
 Foes assail us in vain, 
 Though their fleets bridge the main. 
 For our altars and laws with our lives we'll maintain, 
 For ne'er shall the sons, Sec, 
 
 Should the Tempest of War overshadow our land, 
 
 Its bolts could ne'er rend Freedom's temple asunder ; 
 For, unmoved, at its portal, would Washington stand. 
 
 And repulse, with his Breast, the assaults of the thunder ! 
 His sword, from the sleep 
 Of its scabbard would leap. 
 And conduct, with its point, ev'ry flash to the deep I 
 For ne'er shall the sons, &c. 
 
 Let Fame to the world sound America's voice ; 
 
 No intrigues can her sons from their government sever ; 
 Her pinde is her Adams ; her laws are his choice. 
 And shall flourish, till Liberty slumbers for ever. 
 Then unite heart and hand, 
 Like Leonidas' band, 
 ^nd swear to the God of the ocean and land ; 
 That ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves. 
 While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves- 
 
248 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written far, and sung' at the fifteenth Anniversary of the Massa- 
 chusetts Charitable Fire Society, 1809. 
 
 GRAND RECITATIVE. 
 
 Xjleak lowered the morn ; the howling snow-drift blew ; 
 
 Rude piles of devastation smoked ai'ound ; 
 
 While houseless Outcasts, shivering o'er the ground. 
 Bade the sad phantoms of their Homes adieu ; 
 
 AIR. 
 
 Ah ! mouldering wrecks ! ye flit in fearful trance, 
 
 And the vision of frenzy recall. 
 When in horror we leaped, with a fugitive glance, 
 
 From the flames of yon desolate Wall ! 
 See, now, with blighting melancholy bare, 
 
 Like the monument stone at a sepulchre placed 
 
 It weeps o'er this ruinous waste, 
 As it totters and rocks in the air. 
 
 In vain, sweet pleading Pity calls ; 
 
 Or the cry of shrill Terror appals ; — 
 Bending, beetling, crushing o'er the crowded way, 
 
 Hark ! it cracks ! see, it falls ! 
 And wretches forget all their griefs in dismay. 
 
 recitative. 
 But lo ! along its crumbling base. 
 With vacancy's ecstatic pace. 
 All-reckless, a heart-broken mourner repair j 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 249 
 
 Grief has reason beguiled, 
 And with melodies wild> 
 Invoking her child. 
 She wanders like Hope, and bewails like Despair. 
 
 hiVi-^Andante. 
 My Boy beneath this ruin lies ! 
 Lost William ! hear a Mother's sighs ! 
 Through blasts that freeze, and paths that burn. 
 Thy tombless dust she comes to urn. 
 Now I thy cherub spirit see ! 
 It spreads its doating arms to me ! 
 It smiles in air ! while piteous grace 
 Softens the sorrows of its face. 
 Vain was thy Mother's frantick flight 
 To snatch thee from the Fiend of Night ! 
 Thy Couch, alas ! thy funeral pyre. 
 Mid shrieks of horror, sunk in fire ! 
 
 ALLEGRO FURIOSO. 
 
 Now to clouds of purple light, 
 
 Where William sits, I'll steal my flight ! 
 
 Cold is this crazy crust of clay, 
 
 He beckons to a warmer day ! 
 
 Wealth 1 I'm a happier wretch than you, 
 
 And laughing bid the world, Adieu ! 
 
 33 
 
S^O ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 TO ARMS, COLUMBIA I 
 
 Written for, and sung' at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
 Charitable Fire Society. 
 
 Tune — " HE COMES ! he comes 1 
 
 X o arms, to arms, Avhen Honour cries. 
 Nor shrink the brave, nor doubt the wise ; 
 On foes, by earth and Heaven abhorred, 
 'Tis Godlike to unsheathe the sword ! 
 
 To arms, Columbia ! rule thy natal sea, 
 United, triumph ; and resolved, be free. 
 
 Columbia's Eagle soars so high, 
 He kens the sun with sovereign eye ; 
 Nor cowers his wing, when tempests pour. 
 Nor perches, when the thunders roar. 
 To arms, Columbia, Sic. 
 
 Like Glory's dazzling bird of day, 
 Our realm should hold imperial sway ; 
 Mid clouds and light'nings firmly stand. 
 Though Faction's earthquake shake tlie land. 
 To arms, Columbia, Sec. 
 
ODES AND SONGg. 231 
 
 Shall Gallia bid our oaks descend, 
 Her rubrick banner to defend ? 
 Enslave those forests, reared to reign^ 
 The future monarchs of the main ? 
 . To arms, Columbia, Sec. 
 
 Can glow-worm vie with noontide Sun, 
 Or Lodi's chief with Washington ? 
 Can Earth her maniack moon obey. 
 Or Frenchmen free Columbians sway ? 
 To arms, Columbia, £cc» 
 
 Revenge ! Revenge ! The flag's unfurled ! 
 Let Freedom's cannon wake the world, 
 And Ocean gorge on pirates slain, 
 'Till Truxton J\relso?iise the main I 
 To arms, Columbia, Sec. 
 
 The fate of nations waits the hour, 
 
 Foretold to end the serpent's power ; 
 
 When fallen realms shall break their trance. 
 
 And Adams bruise the head of France. 
 
 To arms, Columbia ! rule thy natal seaj 
 United, triumph ; and resolved, be free. 
 
252 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 RULE NEW-ENGLAND. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts 
 Charitable Fire Society, May, 1802. 
 
 A'V HAT arm a sinking State can save, 
 From Faction's pyre, or Anarch's grave ? 
 Pale Liberty, with haggard eyes, 
 Looks round her realm, and thus replies, 
 
 Rule New-England ! New-England rules and saves ! 
 
 Columbians never, never shall be slaves. 
 
 New-England, first in Freedom's Van, 
 To toil and bleed for injured man. 
 Still true to virtue, dares to say, 
 Order is Freedom — Man, obey I 
 Rule, &c. 
 
 Gloomed, like Cimmeria's beamless day, 
 Our realm in misted error lay, 
 pelusion drugged a nation's veins ; 
 And Truth was philtered in her chains. 
 Rule, &c. 
 
 'Twas now the witching time of night, 
 "When grave yards yawn, and spectres fright j 
 
ODES ANi) SONGS. - 253 
 
 While patriot fiends, with daemon glare, 
 Flash, shriek and hurtle in the air ! 
 Rule, &c. 
 
 Alone, amid the coil serene, 
 New-England stands, and braves the scene, 
 Majestic as she lifts her eye. 
 The stars appear — the daemons fly. 
 Rule, Sec. 
 
 At length the dawn, like that, wliich first 
 Upon primeval Chaos burst. 
 Athwart our clime its radiance throws. 
 And blushes at the wrecks, it shows. 
 Rule, &c. 
 
 Old Massachusetts' hundred hills 
 Awake andchaunt the matin songj 
 
 A realm's acclaim the welkin fills. 
 The federal Sun returns with Strong. 
 Rise, &c. 
 
 And thou, pale orb of waning light, 
 Democracy, thou changeling Moon, 
 
 Art doomed to wheel thy maniac flight, 
 Unseen amid the cloudless Noon. 
 Rule, &;c. 
 
254 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 THE STREET WAS A RUIN. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Chari* 
 table Fire Society, June, 1804. 
 
 1 HE Street was a Ruin, and Night's horrid glare 
 Illumined with terror the face of Despair ; 
 
 While houseless, bewailing, 
 
 Mute Pity assailing, 
 A Mother's wild shrieks pierced the merciless air^ 
 Beside her stood Edward, imploring each wind, 
 To wake his loved sister, who lingered behind ; 
 
 Awake, my poor Mary, 
 
 Oh ! fly to me, Mary ; 
 In the arms of your Edward, a pillow you'll find. 
 
 In vain he called, for now the volum'd smoke, 
 Crackling, between the parting rafters broke ; 
 Thi'ough the rent seams the forked flames aspire, 
 All, all, is lost ; the roof's, the roof's on fire ! 
 
 A flash from the window brought Mary to view, 
 
 She screamed as around her the flaines fiercely blew ; 
 
 Where art thovi, mother ! 
 
 Oh ! fly to me, brother ! 
 Ah ! save your poor Mary, who lives but for you ! 
 
 Leave not poor Mary, 
 
 Ah ! save your poor Mary ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 255 
 
 Her visioned form descrying, 
 
 On wings of horror flying, 
 
 The yovith erects his frantick gaze, 
 
 Then plunges in the maddening blaze ! 
 
 Aloft he dauntless soars, 
 
 The flaming room explores ; 
 The roof in cinders crushes, 
 Through tumbling walls he rushes ! 
 
 She's safe from Fear's alarms ; 
 
 She faints in Edward's arms ! 
 
 Oh ! Nature, such thy triumphs are, 
 Thy simplest child can bravely dare. 
 
256 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE VITAL FLAME. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Humane Society^ 
 May, 1804. 
 
 ./^fr.— ADAGIO. 
 
 O'er the swift-flowing stream, as the tree broke in air, 
 
 Plunged a youth in the tyrannous wave ; 
 No ear heard his shriek ; faint with toil and despair, 
 X He sunk, and was whelmed in his grave ! 
 
 RECITATIVO. 
 
 See, Humanity's angel alights on the scene ! 
 Though the shadows of Death have dissembled his mien ; 
 See, his corse is redeemed from the Stream's icy bed, 
 And a mother's wild grief shrieks, "Alas ! he is dead I" 
 
 ,^ir. LARGO MAESTOSO. 
 
 Spirit of the Vital Flame, 
 Touch with life his marble frame, 
 From the day-star's radiant choir, 
 Bring thy toixh of quenchless fire, 
 And bid a mother's hope respire ! 
 
 ALLEGRO. 
 
 Hither, sparkling cherub, fly ! 
 Mercy's herald, cleave the sky ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. ^S7 
 
 To human prayer, benignant Heaven 
 The salient spring of life has given ; 
 And Science, while her eye explores 
 What power the dormant nerve restores, 
 Surveys the Godhead, and adores; 
 And him, the first of Glory's clan, 
 Proclaims, who saves a fellow man ! 
 
 MAESTOSO. 
 
 Spirit of the Vital Flame ! 
 Touch again his marble frame ! 
 Bid the quivering nerve return, 
 'Till the kindling eye discern 
 A mother's tears with rapture burn 
 
 ALLEGRO ASSAI. 
 
 Behold the quickening Spirit raise 
 
 The trembling limb, the wandering gaze ! 
 
 Instinct listens ! Memory wakes ! 
 
 Thought from cold Extinction breaks ; 
 Reason, motion, frenzy, fear, 
 Religion's triumph, Nature's tear, 
 Almighty Power, thy hand is here ! 
 
258 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written ibv, and sung at the celebration of the Artillery Election, 
 June 4, 1797. 
 
 Tune " THE HERO COMES." 
 
 W HEN first the Mitre's wrath to shun, 
 Our Grandsires travelled with the sun, 
 Columbia's wilds they sought from far, 
 And Freedom shone their guiding star. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
 Let the Poles proclaim. 
 Each illustrious name, 
 
 That crossed the pathless wave. 
 Join, ye martial throng. 
 Fame's immortal song. 
 Bid the chorus roll along. 
 
 Long live the brave. 
 
 In battle brave, in council wise. 
 They bade the school of Valour rise. 
 Whose pupils awed the astonished world, 
 And Freedom's sacred flag unfurled. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion. Fame, 
 Let the Poles proclaim, 
 Each illustrious name. 
 
 That bade these banners wave. 
 Join, See. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 259 
 
 While o'er our fields, with havock dyed, 
 Bellona rolled her crimsoned tide, 
 Like Beauty's lovely goddess rose 
 Bright Freedom from our sea of woes. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
 Let the Poles proclaim, 
 Every hero's name. 
 
 That dared our rights to save. 
 Join, Sec. 
 
 Well skilled to guide the helm of state, 
 
 Like Howard good, like Chatham great, 
 A chief was ours of deathless fame, 
 
 And Hancock was the godlike name. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion. Fame, * 
 
 Let the Poles proclaim, 
 Hancock's glorious name, 
 
 Whose soul disdamed tlie slave. 
 Join, Sec. 
 
 Columbia wept ; the Virtues sighed. 
 And Freedom mourned when Hancock died ; 
 
 While choirs of seraphs sung on high, 
 He's welcome to his native sky. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion. Fame, 
 Let the Poles proclainij 
 Hancock's deathless name. 
 
 Has triumphed o'er the grave. 
 Join, &c. 
 
260 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 To arms ! to arms ! when Fi-eedom calls, 
 No pang the hero's breast appals ; 
 
 But when the trumpet's clangours cease. 
 Let Virtue tune the lute of Peace. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Seize thy clarion, Fame, 
 Let the Poles pi'oclaimj 
 Freedom's glorious flame 
 
 Shall soon inspire the slave. 
 Join, ye martial throng. 
 Fame's immortal song, 
 Bid the chorus roll along. 
 
 Long live the brave. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 261 
 
 SONG. 
 
 THE YEOMEN OF HAMPSHIRE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the celebration of the Artillery Election, 
 June 4, 180L 
 
 Tune — ^" ADAMS and liberty." 
 
 A o the shades of our ancestors loud is the praise, 
 
 That descends with their deeds, and inspires by reaction ! 
 To the heirs of their glory the pgsan we raise, 
 
 The " Yeomen of Hampshire," the Victors of Faction ; 
 Be theirs the proud tale, 
 That though Anarch assail. 
 Each ploughman still sings to the Sti'eam of his Vale. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou I'an, 
 Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 
 
 Where'er thy rich waters erratick display 
 
 Thy deluge of plenty, like Nile, overflooding ; 
 The Mind and the Season thy impulse obey, 
 And patriot Virtue and Spring are in budding ; 
 While each leaf, as it shoots, 
 With its promise of fruits. 
 Proclaims the thrift moisture, that cultures its roots. 
 
262 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran, 
 Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 
 
 Through the vallies of Hampshire, bright Order's abode, 
 
 Thou lovest in gay circles to range and to wander ; 
 While pleased with thy empire, to lengthen the road, 
 Thou givest to thy channel another meander ; 
 And when on the way. 
 Near Northampton you stray. 
 How slow moves thy current its homage to pay ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Roll on loved Connecticut, long hast thou ran. 
 Giving blossoms to Nature, and morals to Man. 
 
 Again flow thy stream, as sublimely it rolled, 
 
 In triumph effulgent, from Freedom reflected ; 
 On tliat festival day, when Old Anarch was told, 
 
 That his arts had been foiled, and his Foe was elected j 
 "When thy bright waves along, 
 Reechoed the song. 
 To the Christian, the Statesman, the Patriot Strong 5 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Whose course loved Connecticut like thine, has ran 
 To cultivate Nature, and moralise Man. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 263 
 
 MASONICK ODE. 
 
 Written for, and'sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Lodge, 
 on the visitation of the Grand Lodge, 1796. 
 
 OwEET Minstrel, who to mortal ears 
 Canst tell the Art, which guides the spheres. 
 
 Blest Masonry, all hail ! 
 With Nature's birth thy laws began, 
 To rule on earth fraternal man. 
 
 And still in Heaven prevail. 
 
 O'er Matter's modes thy mystick sway 
 Can fashion Chaos' devious way. 
 
 To Order's lucid maze ; 
 Can rear the cloud-assaulting towei', 
 And l?id the worm, that breathes its hour, 
 
 Its humble palace raise. 
 
 From nascent life to Being's pride, 
 The surest boon thy laws provide 
 
 When wayward fate beguiles : 
 The tears, thou shed'st for human woe, 
 In falling shine, like Iris' bow, 
 
 And beam an arch of smiles. 
 
264 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Come, priest of Science, truth arrayed, 
 And with thee bring each tuneful maid, 
 
 Thou iov'st on Shinar's plain ; 
 Revive Creation's primal plan, 
 Subdue this vsrildei'ness of man, 
 
 Bid social Virtue reign ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 265 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Sons of the Pilgrims^ 
 December 22, 1800. 
 
 Tune.—f'^ president's march." 
 
 JSainted shades ! who dared to brave, 
 
 In Freedom's ark, the pathless wave, 
 
 Where, scarcely kenned by lynx-eyed fame, 
 
 No traveller but the Comet came^ 
 
 And driven by Tempest's ravening blast, 
 
 Were wrecked upon our wilds at last ; 
 
 How rose your faith, when through the storm 
 
 Smiled Liberty's celestial form. 
 
 Her lyre to strains of seraphs strung, 
 
 And thus the saci-ed psean sung : 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Sons of Glory, patriot band, 
 Welcome to my chosen land ! 
 To your children leave it free, 
 Or a desert let it be. 
 
 Round the consecrated rock, 
 Convened the patriarchal flock, 
 And there, while every lifted hand 
 Affirmed the charter of the land, 
 The storm was hushed, and round the zone 
 Of Heaven, the mystick meteor shone, 
 34 
 
266 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Which, like the rainbow, seen of yore, 
 Proclaimed that Slavery's flood was o'er, 
 That pilgrim man, so long oppressed, 
 Had found his promised place of rest. 
 Sons of Glory, &c. 
 
 it'estive honours crown the day, 
 With garlands green and votive lay. 
 From whose auspicious dawn we trace 
 The birth-right of our favoured race, 
 Which shall descend from sire to son. 
 While seasons roll, and rivers run j 
 Till Faction's cankerous tooth devour 
 Of fatuate man each virtuous power j 
 Till dark intrigue our empire guides. 
 And patriot worth no more presides ! 
 Sons of Glory, &c. 
 
 Heirs of pilgrims, now renew 
 The oath your fathers swore for you, 
 When first around the social board, 
 Enriched from Nature's frugal hoard, 
 The ardent vow to Heaven they breathed, 
 To shield the rights their Sires bequeathed 
 Manes of Carver ! Standish ! hear ! 
 To love the soil, you gave, we swear ; 
 And midst the storms of state be true 
 To God, our countiy, and to you. 
 Sons of Glory, Sec. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 26T 
 
 SONG. 
 
 THE GREEN MOUNTAIN FARMER. 
 
 Written in 1798, on Washington's accepting the command of the 
 United States army. 
 
 JlJlest on his own paternal farm ; 
 
 Contented, yet acquiring ; 
 Below ambition's gilded charm, 
 
 Yet rich beyond desiring ; 
 The hill-born rustick, hale and gay, 
 
 Ere prattling swallows sally, 
 Or ere the pine-top spies the day, 
 
 Sings cheerly through his valley ; 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree ! 
 Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 
 
 With love and plenty, peace and health, 
 
 Emiched by honest labour, 
 He cheers the friend of humbler wealth. 
 
 Nor courts his prouder neighbour. 
 At eve, returning home, he meets, 
 
 His nut-brown lass, so loving, 
 And still his constant strain repeats. 
 
 Through groves and meadows roving. 
 
268 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Green Mountains' echo Heaven's decree ! 
 Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 
 
 Should Faction's wily Serpent spring 
 
 With treacherous folds to intwine him, 
 Undaunted by his venomed sting, 
 
 To flames he would consign him ; 
 The hardy yeoman, like the Oak, 
 
 That shades his wood-land border, 
 Would baffle Anarch's vengeful stroke, 
 
 And shelter Law and Order. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 ' Green Mountains' echo, still would be I 
 Live Adams, Law and Liberty. 
 
 Should hostile fleets our shores assail, 
 
 By home-bred traitors aided, 
 No free-born hand would till the vale. 
 
 By slavery degraded ; 
 Each youth would join the patriot brave, 
 
 To die proud Freedom's martyr, 
 And shed his latest drop, to save 
 
 His country's Glorious Charter, 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Green Mountains' echo then would be, 
 Fight on, Fight on for Liberty. 
 
 JQut hark ! the invading foe alarms. 
 
 Responsive cannons rattle ; 
 And Washington, again in arms. 
 
 Directs the stoniii of battle, 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 269 
 
 The locust swarm of Gallick fiends 
 
 He sweeps to mid-way ocean ; 
 While fame the vaulted Ether rends, 
 
 With conquest's loud commotion. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Shout! Shout! Columbians, Heaven's decree ; 
 'Tis Washington and Victory ! 
 
270 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Boston i'emale Asy- 
 lum, September 24, 1802. 
 
 OHAiL man, stern man, 'gainst Heaven's behest, 
 
 His cold, unfeeling pride oppose ! 
 To thankless Wealth unlock his breast, 
 
 Yet freeze his heart to Orphan's woes. 
 Weak Casuist ! where yon thunder broke I 
 
 Seest how the livid light'ning glares ! 
 Behold ! it rives the knotted oak. 
 
 But still the humble Myrtle spai'es. 
 
 Let stoick valour boldly brave, 
 
 The wars and elements of life ! 
 But, more like Heaven, who stoops to save 
 
 A being, sinking in the strife ; 
 Poor Exiles ! wandering o'er this sphere, 
 
 Thi'ough scenes, of which you form no part ; 
 Loved Orphan girls ! come welcome here, 
 
 The Asylum of the human heart. 
 
 Sweet Charity ! thou spright benign, 
 
 Who oft art seen in Angel form, 
 To point the sunbeam, where to shine, 
 
 Or rein the coursers of the storm ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. , 271 
 
 Oh ! through yon dark and dripping cell, 
 Where Sorrow's out-cast offspring weep, 
 
 Flash, as when Peter's fetters fell, 
 
 And bid the woes, that guard them, sleep ! 
 
 Warmed by thy beams, the frost unkind. 
 
 Which blasts sweet woman's vernal years. 
 In dew exhaled, shall leave behind 
 
 Pure Gratitude's unsullied tears ! 
 So shall our Orphan girls no more. 
 
 Lament the untimely blight of woe ; 
 But reared to virtue, thrice restore 
 
 To generous man the debt, they owe. 
 
 Blest Providence ! whose parent power 
 
 All being gives, for all provides ; 
 Co-equal, when it blooms the flower. 
 
 As when it curbs old Ocean's tides ! 
 See, lorn and piteous, at thy throne, 
 
 Love, Mercy, Hope and Homage sue ; 
 They weep for sorrows, not their own. 
 
 They bend, dear Orphan girls, for you ! 
 
273 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Indepen- 
 dence, July 4, 1806. 
 
 Tune — " WHILST happy in my native land.' 
 
 fT IDE o'er the wilderness of waves, 
 
 Untracked by human peril, 
 Our fathers roamed for peaceful graves, 
 
 To deserts dark and sterile. 
 No parting pang, no long adieu 
 
 Delayed their gallant daring ; 
 With them, their Gods and Country too, 
 
 Their pilgrim keels were bearing. 
 All hearts unite the patriot band, 
 
 Be liberty our natal land. 
 
 Their dauntless hearts no meteor led, 
 
 In terrour o'er the ocean ; 
 From fortune and from man they fled, 
 
 To Heaven and its devotion. 
 Fate cannot bend the high born mind 
 
 To bigot usurpation : 
 They, who had left a world behind, 
 
 Now gave that world a nation. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 2/3 
 
 The soil to till, to freight the sea, 
 
 By valour's arm protected. 
 To plant an empii^e brave and free, 
 
 Their sacred vievrs directed : 
 But more they feared, than tyrant's yoke, 
 
 Insidious faction's fury ; 
 For oft a worm destroys an oak, 
 
 Whose leaf that worm would bury. 
 
 Thus reared, our giant realm arose. 
 
 And claimed our sovereign charter : 
 Her life-blood warm from Adams rose, 
 
 And all her sons from Sftarta. 
 Be free, Columbia ! proudest name 
 
 Fame's herald wafts in story : 
 Be free, thou youngest child of Fame, 
 
 Rule, brightest heir of Glory 1 
 
 Thy Preble, mid the battle's ire. 
 
 Hath Africk's towers dejected ;• 
 And Lybia's sands have flashed with fire, 
 
 From Eaton's sword reflected. 
 Thy groves, which erst the hill or plain 
 
 Entrenched from savage plunder. 
 To Naiads turned, must cleave the main, 
 
 And sport with Neptune's thunder. 
 
2T4t ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Inde- 
 pendence, July 4, 1810. 
 
 JH.AIL ! Hail, ye patriot spirits ! 
 
 Ye chiefs of valiant deed I 
 To war-scarred bosoms point no more, 
 
 Your wounds no longer bleed. 
 Oh ! ever bless the festal shrine 
 
 Your hovering shades explore ! 
 While laurel-crowned, ye glide around. 
 
 And the Seraph Anthem pour- 
 It is our country's natal day, 
 
 We hail it and adore ! 
 
 High o'er the rock of ages, 
 
 See Independence stride. 
 Her shield she stretches o'er the vale, 
 
 Her spear across the tide. 
 The harvests of her teeniing soil. 
 
 She bids the waves expand, 
 Though tempest roars, around her shores, 
 
 It dies along her strand ; 
 For the arm, that can the plough direct, 
 
 The trident can command. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 275 
 
 The storm, that rent her forests 
 A thousand ages past, 
 
 Now sweeps their branches as they fly- 
 Along the ocean blast. 
 
 Through every clime her banners float, 
 And greet the Northern Wane, 
 
 Where dimly bright, with wheeling light, 
 He pales the freezing plain ; 
 
 And sees new Stars beneath the pole, 
 New Pleiads on the main. 
 
 The Sea is valour's charter, 
 
 A nation's wealthiest mine : 
 His foaming caves when ocean bares. 
 
 Not pearls, but heroes shine ; 
 Aloft they mount the midnight surge, 
 
 Where shipwrecked spirits roam. 
 And oft the knell, is heard to swell. 
 
 Where bursting billows foam. 
 Each storm a race of heroes rears, 
 
 To guard their native home. 
 
 But not the storm, that courses ' 
 
 The mountain and the deep. 
 Like Rapine's secret, whirling pool. 
 
 With tyrant, power can sweep : 
 Th' Imperial Gulf can whelm the keel. 
 
 Which tempests proudly bore ; 
 In smooth serene, it glides unseen. 
 
 Till all its caverns roar ; 
 Till all its hidden ledges crash. 
 
 And all its whirlwinds pour. 
 
276 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Rise, man's immortal spirit. 
 
 Stern Independence, rise ; 
 Mid wrecks, that choak the pii'ate's cave, 
 
 Your tattered banner lies. 
 In fierce Napoleon's midnight cells 
 
 Your gallant sailor grieves ; 
 In chains he lies, and wistful sighs 
 
 Towards his country heaves. 
 Rise Independence, wear thy crown. 
 
 Or strip its oaken leaver. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 277 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the American Inde- 
 pendence, July 4, 1811. 
 
 TunC'—^^ BATTLE OF THE NILE." 
 
 JLjet patriot pride ouv patriot triumph Avake ! 
 The Jubilee of Freedom relumes a Nation's soul ! 
 On land, or main, no I'ight of realm forsake. 
 
 Though warriour storms, like ocean tempests, roll. 
 Spread your banners, let Commerce, Industry directing, 
 Mantle the waves, by courage. Wealth protecting ! 
 
 And new honours while we pay 
 
 To our Country's Natal Day, 
 
 Let us build her great renown, 
 
 Fi'om a soil and sea our own ; 
 For Commerce, Agricultui'e, Art — rewarded shall be ! 
 
 Huzza 1 Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! 
 
 Heaven gave to Man the Charter to be free. 
 
 Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza ! Huzza I 
 
 Columbia lives, and claims the great decree. 
 
 Arise ! Arise ! Columbia's Sons, Arise ! 
 Asscit, on the ocean, your Ocean's sovei-eign law ; 
 
278 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 No hostile flag shall hovei- in your skies ; 
 No pirate keep your mariners in awe. 
 Be the rights of your shores by Cannon Law expounded, 
 And your waters shall be safe, where hook and line are sounded. 
 
 On the shoals of Newfoundland, 
 
 Let your tars and boats command, 
 
 For a Mine of wealth you keep 
 
 In the Bank beneath the deep, 
 Whose Charter, awful Charter, is renewed by every sea. 
 
 Huzza ! Huzza ! Sec. Sec. Sec. 
 
 If equal justice neutral laws proclaim. 
 No power will presumptuous your sovereignty disgrace ; 
 
 Among your Stars inscribe a Nation's name, 
 Your flag will guard, our freedom and your race. 
 Base submission, inviting indignity and Plunder, 
 Like a worm, kills an Oak, which should have braved the 
 thunder. 
 Though beneath the rifting ball, 
 Should the mountain monarch fall. 
 Still in majesty he reigns. 
 And, though prostrate, rules the plains ; 
 And scios, blooming scios, spring, to renovate the tree. 
 Huzza ! Huzza ! Sec. kc. Sec, 
 
 Arouse ! Arouse ! Columbia's Sons, Arouse ! 
 And burst through the slumber of faction-dreaming fears ; 
 
 Bid Cannons shake the tempests from your brows, 
 A.nd the clouds shall echo glory on your ears. 
 When the trumpet of Victory, Independence claiming, 
 Swelled o'er your hills, from fields in battle flaming ; 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 279 
 
 When the Freedom of the land, 
 By your Patriotick Band, 
 To this Temple was consigned, 
 'Twas with Washington enshrined, 
 That the Charter, sacred Charter, there, immortal should be. 
 Huzza ! Huzza ! &c. Sec. &c. 
 
280 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Faustus Association, 
 October 3, 1809. 
 
 Tune — ^" Adams and Liberty." 
 
 On the tent-plains of Shinah, Truth's mystical clime, 
 
 When the impious turret of Babel was shattered, 
 Lest the tracks of our race, in the sand-rift of Time, 
 
 Should be buried, when Shem, Ham and Japheth were 
 scattered, - 
 Rose the genius of Art, 
 Man to man to impart, 
 By a language, that speaks, through the eye, to the heart. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Yet rude was Invention, when Art she revealed, 
 
 For a block stamped the page, and a tree ploughed the field. 
 
 As Time swept his pennons, Art sighed, as she viewed 
 
 How dim was the image, her emblem reflected ; 
 When, inspired, father Faust broke her table of wood. 
 Wrought its parts into shape, and the whole reconnected, 
 Art with Mmd now could rove, 
 For her symbols could move, 
 Ever casting new shades, like the leaves of a grove. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 281 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 And the colours of Thought in their elements run, 
 As the prismatick glass shows the hues of the Sun. 
 
 In the morn of the West, as the light rolled away 
 
 From the grey eve of regions, by bigotry clouded, 
 With the dawn woke our Franklin, and, glancing the day. 
 Turned its beams through the mist, with which Art was 
 enshrouded ; 
 
 To kindle her shrine, 
 His Promethean line 
 Drew a spark from the clouds, and made Printing divine ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 When the fire by his rod was attracted from Heaven, 
 Its flash by the type, his conductor, was given. 
 
 Ancient Wisdom may boast of the spice and the v,^ed, 
 
 Which embalmed the cold forms of its heroes and sages ; 
 But their fame lives alone on the leaf of the reed, 
 
 Which has grown through the clefts in the rums of ages ; 
 Could they rise, they would shed, 
 Like Cicero's head, 
 Tears of blood on the spot, whei'e the world they had led, 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Of Pompey and Ceser tinknown is the tomb, 
 
 But the type is their forum, the page is their Rome. 
 
 Blest genius of Type ! down the vista of time 
 
 As thy flight leaves behind thee this vexed generation. 
 
 Oh ! transmit on thy scroll, this bequest from our clime, 
 The Press can cement, or dismember a nation. 
 36 
 
282 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Be thy temple the mmd I 
 There, like Vesta, enshrined, 
 Watch and foster the flame, which inspires human kind I 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Preserving all arts, may all arts cherish thee ; 
 And thy science and virtue teach man to be free 1 
 
 ThefollQV)ing explanatory notice of this Ode is extracted from the Port 
 Folio. 
 
 In this Ode, the great stages of the art are poetically described in the three first 
 verses; to each of Avhich there is an appropriate chorus. Printing upon 
 blocks with immoveable types was invented by the descendants of Noah, "on 
 the tent-plains of Shinah," and was nearly coeval -with the first rude assays at 
 agi'iculture. But the art remained in this state of imperfection, till "father 
 Faust broke her tablet of wood," and invented the moveable type. In succeed- 
 ing generations the art received various improvements, prior to the era of 
 Franklin, who first united the genius of philosophy to the art of the mechanico 
 How would Antiquity " hide her diminished head," could she "burst her 
 cearments," and survey the comforts and elegances, which flow from the art 
 and science of modern life ? Her heroes and sages would shed 
 
 " Tears of blood on the spot where the world they had led," 
 at their limited means of greatness ; but they would with holy aspirations bless 
 the " genius of type," which had so widely diffused their glory and so per- 
 manently embalmed their fame. 
 
 The concluding verse impresses a salutary lesson, and conveys a noble 
 moral. We fervently hope that neither the lesson, nor the moral will pass 
 unregarded by the conductors of literary and political Journals ; for they stand 
 at the fountains of publick opinion anddu'ect the course of its torrents. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 283 
 
 ODE. 
 
 Written for, and sung at the Anniversary of the General Eaton Fire 
 Society, January 14, 1808. 
 
 Tune—S'^ GOD save th:^ king," 
 
 JjLEST be the sacred fire, 
 whose beams the man inspire, 
 
 Panting for praise ! 
 Renown her lam'el rears, 
 Not in a nation's tears. 
 But in the Sun, that cheers 
 
 Her hero's bays. 
 
 In Afric's cells confined, 
 Columbia's sons had pined, 
 
 'Mid hopeless glooms 
 By native land forgot, 
 By fiiend " remembered not," 
 They delved their captive spot, 
 
 And hailed their tomb 1 
 
284 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 Who, for the brave, could feel ? 
 Who warm, with patriot zeal, 
 
 Their country's veins ? 
 Eaton, a glorious name ! 
 Struck, from the flint of fame, 
 A spark, whose chymick flame 
 
 Dissolved their chains. 
 
 O'er Lybia's desert sands. 
 He led his venturous bands, 
 
 Hovering to save ; 
 Where Fame her wings ne'er spread 
 O'er Alexander's head, 
 Where Cato bowed and bled 
 
 On glory's gi'ave. 
 
 Though earth no fountain yield, 
 Arabs their poignards wield, 
 
 Famine appal ; 
 Eaton all danger braves. 
 Fierce while the battle I'aves, 
 Columbia's Standard waves. 
 
 On Derne's proud wall, 
 
 Long to the brave be givenj 
 The best reward of Heaven, 
 
 On earth beneath I 
 His country's Spartan pride,. 
 To honest fame allied, 
 No serpent e're shall glide 
 
 Under his wreath. 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 285 
 
 Blest be the sacred five, 
 Whose beams the man inspire. 
 
 Panting for praise I 
 Renown her laurel rears, 
 Not in a nation's tears, 
 But in the Sun, that cheers 
 
 Her Hero's bays. 
 
286 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE. 
 
 >Vrltten for, and sung at the Anniversary of the Massachusetts Asso= 
 ciatioDj for improvuig the breed of Horses, October 21, 1811. 
 
 yane— " tally ho." 
 
 J. HE Steeds of Apollo, in coursing the day, 
 
 Breathe the fire, which he beams on mankind ; 
 To the world wliile his light from his car they convey, 
 
 Their speed is the blaze of his mind. 
 Thus Ambition, Avho governs of honour the chace, 
 
 Keeps Life's mettled Coursers in glow ; 
 For Fame is the Gaol, and the World is the Race, 
 
 And, hark forward ! they start ! Tally ho ! 
 
 All ranks try the turf; 'tis the contest of life. 
 
 By a heat to achieve a renown ; 
 And so thronged are the lists in the emulous strife, 
 
 That but few know what steed is their own ; 
 For many, like Gilpin, alarmed at the blood. 
 
 Lose their rein and their course, as they go : 
 While the Rider, high trained, knows each pace in his stud, 
 
 And, hark forward ! he flies, Tally ho ! 
 
 The Hero's a War-horse, whose brave, gen'rous breed, 
 Scorns the spur, though he yields to the rein ; 
 
 Blood and bone, at the trump-call he vaults in full speed? 
 And contends for his own native plain. 
 
OI)ES AND SONGS. 287 
 
 In battle he glories ; and pants, like his Sire, 
 
 On the soil, where he grazed, to lie low ; 
 See his neck clothed with thunder, his mane flaked with fire, 
 
 While, hark forward ! he springs. Tally ho ! 
 
 The Statesman's a Prancer, so tender in hoof, 
 
 He curvets, without fleetness or force ; 
 In the heat of the field, when the race is in proof, . 
 
 He gallantly bolts from the course ! 
 With his canter and amble, he shuffles his way ; 
 
 And no care of the sport seems to know ; 
 Till he sees, as he hovers, what horse wins the day, 
 
 Then, hark forward ! he shouts. Tally ho ! 
 
 The Farmer's a draught, the rich blood of whose veins, 
 
 Acts with vigour the duties, he owes ; 
 He's a horse of sound bottom, and nurtures the plains 
 
 Where the harvest, that nuitures him, grows. 
 At his Country's command, on her hills or her fields, 
 
 Which her corn and her laurels bestow ; 
 Firm in danger he moves,, and in death never yields. 
 
 But, hark forward ! he falls, Tally ho ! 
 
 Columbia is drawn by the Steeds of the sky, 
 
 The long journey of Empire to run ; 
 May her coursers of light never scorch as they fly. 
 
 And their race be the age of the Sun ! 
 Nor distanced by Time, nor in Fame e'er forgot. 
 
 May her track still be known by its glow ; 
 Like Olympian dust, may it stream o'er the spot, 
 
 Where, hark forward ; she rode, Tally ho ! 
 
288 ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 ODE, 
 
 SPAIN, COMMERCE AND FREEDOM, 
 
 Written for, and sung' at the celebration of the Spanish Festival. 
 January 24, 1809. 
 
 OouND the trumpet of Fame ! Swell the Paean again ! 
 
 Religion a war against Tyranny wages : 
 From her couch springs, in Armoui', Regenerate Spain, 
 Like a Giant, refreshed by the slumber of Ages ! 
 From the cell, where she lay, 
 She leaps in array. 
 Like Ajax, to die in the face of the Day : 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 And Swears, from pollution, her Empire to save, 
 Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 
 
 In the land of her Birth she rejoices to find. 
 
 From her old i^ace of Heroes, a young generation, 
 In whose souls no dismay kills the nerve of the mind, 
 Who gaze upon Death with devout contenaplation ; 
 "Whose Standard on high, 
 Like a Comet, will fly ; 
 And consume, while it lightens, its neighbouring sky ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 289 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 They have sworn from pollution her Empire to save, 
 Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 
 
 O'er her hills, see the Day-Star of Glory advance ! 
 
 Its beams warm her cliffs, and unfetter her fountains ! 
 But, a pestilent Planet, it blazes on France ! 
 A Meteor of blood, through the mist of the Mountains I 
 Like a Dream in the Air, 
 See, the Pyrennees glare ! 
 A Castle of Fire, on a Rock, blear and bare ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Its flames from pollution her Empire shall save, 
 Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave I 
 
 Brave Isle of the Oak ! On thy Patriarch Tree, 
 
 Science blossoms, where Freedom her shelter has taken ! 
 Earth was weighed by an Acron 1 and ruled is the Sea ! 
 What thy Newton had balanced, thy Nelson has shaken ! 
 Trident Queen may'st thou reign, 
 'Till thy thunder regain 
 The rights of Mankind, in the battles of Spain ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 'Till her Sword from pollution her Empire shall save, 
 Her Flag and her Altars, her Home and her Grave ! 
 
 Thy Shield, gallant Britain ! impends from the sky. 
 Like the Star in the East, on the Morn of Salvation ! 
 
 Through the dark Empyrean it bursts on the eye, 
 The Beacon of Man, in the march of Creation ! 
 
ago , ODES AND SONGS. 
 
 In the World's sacred War, 
 Agincourt, Trafalgar 
 Thy Steeds deck with laurels, and herald thy Car ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 For with Spain thou hast sworn from pollution to save. 
 Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave I 
 
 Dear, Natal Columbia ! Fair Last-born of Time ! 
 
 May the Orphan of Fame be the Heir of Dominion ; 
 But, the Nest of thy Eagle looks Bleak, though Sublime, 
 On a Cliff, where each Tempest can shatter his pinion S. 
 Round an Aerie so high; 
 The rude Avhirlwinds will fly, 
 Unless, with thy Forests, the blast thou Defy I 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 And swear from pollution like Spain, thou wilt savfe, 
 Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave I 
 
 Oh ! to Spain, let thy Gratitude redolent burn. 
 
 First, thy Freedom to own ; First, thy Shores to discover I 
 Hark ! her Patriots, with pride, tell the Tyrant they spurn. 
 That the New World she found, and the Old will recover / 
 For Commerce and Thee ! 
 She unbosomed the Sea, 
 And demands that the Gates of the Ocean be Free ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Then, swear from pollution like Spain, Thou wilt save, 
 Thy Flag and thy Altars, thy Home and thy Grave ! 
 
 Bright Day of the World ! dart thy lustre afar ! 
 
 Five the North with thy heat ! gild the South with thy 
 splendor ! 
 
ODES AND SONGS. 291 
 
 With thjr glance light the Torch of Redintegrant War, 
 Till the dismembered Earth effervesce and regender ! 
 
 Through each zone may'st roll, 
 
 *Till thy beams at the Pole, 
 Melt Philosophy's Ice in the Sea of the Soul I 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 'Till Mankind from pollution their birth-right shall save s 
 Their Flag and their Altars, their Home and their Grave. 
 
 Hail ! Spirit of Spain ! mount thy Battlement-walls ! 
 
 With thy voice shake the clouds ! break the dream of sub^ 
 jection ! 
 Like a new-risen Spectre, thy Helmet appals ! 
 And Pavia Recoils at thy Dread Resurrection ! 
 Oh ! may France, the new Rome, 
 Never destine thy doom, 
 'Till the Pyrennees sink, and thy realm is a Tomb 1 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Rise I and swear from pollution thy Empire to save ! 
 Let thy Flag and thy Home be thy God and thy Grave S 
 
292 ELEGY. 
 
 ELEGIAC SONNET, 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY Of 
 
 M. M. HAYS, Esq. 
 
 JlIere sleepest thou, Man of Soul 1 Thy spirit flown, 
 
 How dark and tenantless its desert clay ! 
 Cold is that heart, which throbbed at sorrows moan ? 
 
 Untuned that tongue, which charmed the social day ? 
 
 Where now the Wit, by generous roughness graced ? 
 
 Or Friendship's accent, kindling as it fell ? 
 Or Bounty's stealing foot, whose step untraced 
 
 Had watched pale Want, and stored her famished cell ? 
 
 Alas, 'tis all thou art ! whose vigorous mind 
 Inspiring force to Truth and Feeling gave. 
 
 Whose rich resources equal power combined, 
 The gay to brighten, and instruct the grave I 
 
 Farewell, Adieu ! Sweet Peace thy vigils keep ; 
 For Pilgrim Virtvie sojourns here to weep ! 
 
ADDRESS. 293 
 
 ADDRESS, 
 
 Written for the Carriers of the Boston Gazette, January 1, 1802. 
 
 Again the Sun his fiery steeds has driven, 
 
 To melt Avith day the clouds of nether heaven. 
 
 T' Antarctic skies he shoots his torrid beams. 
 
 And bids the Naiads bathe in polar streams ; 
 
 On diamond hills of ice, unsunned before, 
 
 He points his focus, and new oceans roar ; 
 
 The vast suffusion gushes down the sides 
 
 Of mother earth, and gives St. Pierre his tides ; 
 
 While floating Glaciers gem the torrent's way. 
 
 Exult in light, and, as they shine, decay. 
 
 Nations, from under ground, pop out their heads. 
 
 To hail the spiral moniing as it spreads ; 
 
 And gaze with wonder, (poor benighted souls !) 
 
 On that bright orb, which Candles gives and Coals. 
 
 Each Nymph, with furs thrown off, her face discloses. 
 
 To breathe an air that does not bite off noses ; 
 
 And leaves a six -month's fire, to gather roses ! 
 
 While nature, all alive, with Spring bedight. 
 
 Peals her hosannas to the Power of Light. 
 
 But while the joys of polar realms and tribes. 
 The newsboy with red-lettered rhyme describes, 
 'Tis fit, though bards and beggars love to roam, 
 To shoot a distich at great folks at home. 
 
294 ADDRESS. 
 
 And here, alas, with aching heart and sad, 
 His Pegasus must needs become a Pad ; 
 For sure the Muse should shuffle in her gait, 
 When nought but thorough pacing suits the State. 
 
 Who to the clime his pliant habit forms, 
 Has boots for mire, and roquelaures for storms J 
 But the news-pedlar, bold as man of rhymes. 
 Will face the whirlwind, and will cuff the times ! 
 
 Unlike the scene, which erewhile cheered the soul, 
 But which we left behind us at the pole. 
 Is this drear season, which, of life bereft. 
 Gives up to Bankruptcy, what Anarch left. 
 Cold to the patriot's heart, and newsboy's knuckles. 
 Misfortune on our backs it doubly buckles ; 
 In trade's great toe it sticks a festering splinter^ 
 And gives us peace, democracy and winter ; 
 Threatens a frost, to freeze our current cash, 
 To snap our crockery, our credit sinash ; 
 With banded hordes it fills our publick roads. 
 Our smoaking streets with prostate mansions loads ; 
 Frost-nips the banks, internal taxes clips. 
 Makes carpenters of worms, to bore our ships ; 
 From emigration takes off all its shackles, 
 And a Swiss Dray-horse in state-harness tackles ; 
 Capacity it gives to every rogue. 
 And finds certificate of birth in — ^brogue ; 
 Distinction levels, all allegiance blends. 
 And whisky cits, from bogs, to congress sends ; 
 All strangers naturalizes — all embraces. 
 With no exception, but the hue of faces ; 
 
ADDRESS. 295 
 
 Felons from Newgate 'scaped, and vermined straw, 
 
 To rail at feather-beds, and common law ; 
 
 Fools with long ears, who bray, when Patriots bawl, 
 
 Or knaves transported-^with no ears at all. 
 
 But while to vagrant tribes our laws are kind, 
 
 The sable sans'culottes no mercy find ; 
 
 Alas ! how moral, how humane, the times, 
 
 When Pliilosophs compile a code of crimes I 
 
 A deadly sin the Negro's breast imbues, 
 
 He loves the female, more than Mammoth does ; 
 
 And viler still to him, whose pointer nose 
 
 Smells not a poppy, as it smells a rose ; 
 
 The Negro, formed a slave from Nature's hands, 
 
 *' Sweats more at pores, and less secretes at glands." 
 
 Sad and reversed, as this drear scene appears. 
 There are, who batten on a Patriot's tears ; 
 But still on them the same privations fall, 
 The Sun's a common good, and cheers us all ; 
 And when on other realms, and distant skies, 
 He showers that radiance, he to us denies. 
 The " eager and the biting air" we feel, 
 May chill the limbs, but nerves the heart with steel, 
 For poor in soul is he, who calm can view 
 That plastic orb, which erst, to order true, 
 Th' Ecliptic path in equal course did run. 
 And shone the civil, like the natural sun. 
 Now o'er our dark horizon's ridge incline 
 A watery lustre, and a sloping line ; 
 Beyond th' Equator keep his rolling throne. 
 And in the southern solstice shine alone ! 
 
296 TO MISS F. 
 
 The following lines appeared In the Centinel, February, 1793. 
 They were sent to a beautiful young lady, on hearing her 
 express a wish to ascend in Blanchard's Balloon. 
 
 TO MISS F. 
 
 h ORBEAR, sweet gh'l ; your scheme forego, 
 And thus our anxious troubles end : 
 
 That you will mount, full well we know, 
 But greatly fear you'll not descend. 
 
 When Angels see a mortal rise, 
 
 So beautiful, divine and fair, 
 They'll not dismiss you from the skies. 
 
 But keep their sister Angel there. 
 
 To the above, Mr. Paine soon after wrote the following reply. 
 
 X RUE, gentle bard, should lovely Grace 
 
 On aeronautick pinions I'ise, 
 Angels would own their " Sister's" face, 
 
 Thrice welcome to her native skies. 
 
 But conscious should the nymph remain, 
 Earth's loud laments would rend their ears : 
 
 They'd send the Heroine down again. 
 To sooth and bless a world in tears. 
 
PART IV. 
 
 PROSE WRITINGS. 
 
AN 
 
 ORATION, 
 
 WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE YOUNG MEN OP BOSTON, 
 AND DELIVERED, JULY 17, 1799, 
 
 IN COMMEMOEATION OF THE 
 DISSOLUTION OF 
 
 THE TREATIES AND CONSULAR CONVENTION, 
 
 BETWEEN FRANCE AND THE UNITED STATES 
 OF AMERICA. 
 
ORATION. 
 
 J. HE Struggle between Liberty and Despotism, Government 
 and Anarchy, Religion and Atheism, has been gloriously de- 
 cided. It has proved the victory of principle, the triumph of 
 virtue. France has been foiled, and America is free. The 
 elastick veil of Gallick perfidy has been rent ; the mystick 
 charm of diplomatick policy has been dissolved ; the severing 
 blow has been struck ; and the exulting Ocean, now rolls be- 
 tween our shores, an eternal monument of our separation. 
 
 We are convened, my young friends and fellow citizens, to 
 commemorate, at a disjunct period, the first glorious anniver- 
 sary of that eventful day,* when our national Senate and 
 House of Representatives declared the Treaties and Consular 
 Convention, which had hitherto subsisted between the United 
 States and France, should be no longer obligatory on the Gov- 
 ernment and People of America, It is a day, which will for- 
 
 * The law of the United States, dissolving the Treaties and 
 Consular Convention with France, was approved by the President on 
 the 7th of July, 1/98. From the vicinity of this day to our National 
 Anniversary, and other causes, this event was celebrated on the 
 17th. This anachronism is not only venial in itself, but is also 
 sanctioned by undeniable precedent. 
 
3Q2 ORATION. 
 
 ever be illustrious in our annals. It is the completion of our 
 Liberties, the acme of our Independence. The fourth of 
 JULY will be celebrated by our latest posterity, as the splendid 
 sera of our national gloiy ; but the seventh will be venerated, 
 as the dignified epoch of our national character. The one, 
 annihilated our colonial submission to a powerful, avowed and 
 determined foe. The other, emancipated us from the oppres- 
 sive friendship of an ambitious, malignant, treacherous ally. 
 The foraier asserted our political supremacy, which preserved 
 to us our country from subj ection, our liberties from encroach- 
 ment, and our government from foreign control : the latter 
 united to tlie same momentous object a declaration of our 
 moral sovreignty, which rescued our principles from subju- 
 gation, as well as our persons from slavery ; which secured 
 our cities from massacre, as well as their inhabitants from 
 debasement ; which preserved our fair ones from violation, 
 as well as our religion from bondage. In fine, the declaration 
 of Independence, which dissolved our connexion with Great 
 Britam, may be correctly denominated the Birth day of our 
 nation, when, as its infant genius was ushered into political 
 existence, a lambent flame of glory played around its brows, 
 in presage of its future greatness. But the period, which 
 sundered our alliance with France, may be pronounced the 
 day of our nation's manhood, when this genius had become 
 an Hercules, who, no longer amused with the coral and bells 
 of " liberty and equality ;" no longer 
 
 " Pleased with the rattles, tickled with the straws," 
 
ORATION. 303 
 
 of " health and fraternity ;" no longer willing to trifle at the 
 distaff of a " Lady Negociator," boldly invested himself in 
 the toga virilisj and assumed his rank in the forum of nations. 
 It will therefore in all ages be pointed to, _as a luminous 
 page in our history, when the patriotick statesmen of Amer- 
 ica, with a decision of character, which has shot a ray of enthu- 
 siasm into the coldest regions of Europe, cut asiuider the 
 inexplicable knot of so contagious a connexion, and forever 
 abolished the impolitick and deleterious instrument which had 
 created it : when that memorable Treaty, which had linked 
 together two heterogeneous nations, in an unnatural, unequal, 
 and hateful alliance, after an attenuated life of twenty years, was 
 ignominiously committed to the grave, where, in the lan- 
 guage of French philosophy, " its death will prove an eternal 
 sleep." 
 
 That this was a measure of the highest prudence, foresight 
 and necessity, has been acknowledged by every honest Amer- 
 ican, whose political intelligence has flowed through any other 
 channel, than the'polluted sewers of a French Consul's Office, 
 The history of the events, which compelled the dissolution of 
 our national intercourse with France, is a history, on the one 
 part, of injury accumulated on injury, aggravated by insult 
 following upon insult ; and on the other, of the dignified policy, 
 which preferred negociation to arms, and a magnanimous 
 forbearance to resent or retaliate, while there remained one 
 rational, one manly hope of an honourable accommodation. 
 
304 ORATION. 
 
 The crisis soon arrived, when to be silent was to submit; to 
 submit was to be vandalized. 
 
 France had formed a digest of piracy, in which plunder, 
 imprisonment and massacre were some of the milder penal- 
 ties, denounced by the Great Nation. Their most unprinci- 
 pled and abandoned citizens, who had nothing to lose, but a 
 life, which was a burthen to themselves, and of no value to 
 their country, swarmed the ocean in predatory hordes, under 
 the seal of the republick, and the sanction of her palm-itching 
 ministers. Our commerce was at this period the carrier of 
 the world. For five years preceding, it had extended in a 
 ]"atio of increase, unparalleled but by geometrical progression. 
 So unexampled in any former time was its pi'osperity and its 
 wealth, that our navigation almost monopolized the whole 
 burthen of taxation. Its revenues supplied the exigencies of 
 our government, and its peaceful and respected flag had made 
 the harvests of all climes our own. 
 
 At this most critical period of the present contest in Europe, 
 when the combined armies and fleets had established a 
 Pofiilian circle round the territories of the French Republick, 
 so portentously gloomy and eventful was the aspect of her 
 revolution, that had not the ofiicious friendship of Americans, 
 with the exuberant productions of their fertile fields, lavishly 
 freighted every plant, that was afloat in their seas, to snatch 
 from famine the myrmidons of Robespierre, and to pamper 
 with luxury the pimps of Marat, our humiliated government 
 
ORATION. 305 
 
 liad not since been compelled to sue for justice from the 
 treacherous tyrants, they had preserved, nor meanly stooped 
 " To lick the hand, just raised to shed its blood." 
 For national favours, so immediately instrumental in the 
 salvation of their republick, what novel and brilliant system 
 of compensation did these eloquent theorists, who are eter- 
 nally preaching on the purity of the social contract, invent and 
 adopt, to express the ardent gratitude, which, consumed them, 
 and exonerate the mountainous load of obligation, which 
 depressed their modest sensibility ? Was it by an honoura- 
 ble mention in the bulletin ? The union of the flags of the 
 two republicks in the hall of the Convention ? Or the friendly 
 care, they bestowed, to initiate the un-illuminated mind of our 
 consul Munroe in the true principles of Religion and Gov- 
 ernment ? — No.— -These were supererogatory benefits, gi'a- 
 ,tuitously conferred ! Frenchinen were more nobly actuated ! 
 They kindly condescended, for our exclusive profit, to place 
 our defenceless Commerce under their fraternal protection, 
 lest our property should be seized and confiscated by British 
 free-booters ! They converted our vessels to the use of the 
 Republick, lest they should be sunk and destroyed by British 
 cannon ! They stored our cargoes in their National Granaries, 
 lest we should trust them to British merchants, and be 
 defrauded of our payment ! And they have beaten and impris- 
 oned our Seamen, and murdered our Smiths and our Brad^ 
 lees,* lest they should fall into the hands of British buccaniers! 
 
 * Captain Eben. Smith and Mr. David Bradlee, of the ship Hunter, 
 bound to Martinique, who were slain in an action with a French Pri- 
 39 
 
306 ORATIO^^ 
 
 Disinterested generosity of a wonderful people I It is worthy 
 of Frenchmen ! 
 
 Such was the tender affection of our dear " Sister repub- 
 lick !" France was as fair, and as false, as the beautiful statue 
 of the tyrant Nabis. Her syren charms, though more baleful 
 than the wrinkles of the weird sisters, wore the celestial sem- 
 blance of truth and innocence. Her smiles allured us to her 
 fond embrace. We rushed into her arms, and in her treach- 
 erous fold, felt the keen daggei^ in her breast concealed, 
 pierce to our heart.* Yes, my fellow citizens, America has 
 nearly been suffocated in the extatick raptures of the " hug 
 fraternal !" 
 
 From a mistaken notion of the principles of France in the 
 assistance, she afforded our revolutipnary struggle, have flowed 
 many of the evils and indignities, with which our country has 
 been assailed and corroded. Deluded by a fictitious gratitude, 
 an almost fatal misconception of the French character had 
 hitherto pervaded the minds of our citizens. The description, 
 which one of their greatest philosophers and statesmen has 
 given of his countrymen, was considered as illusory, as his 
 
 vateer. The gallant Smith was inhumanly gashed with wounds after 
 his vessel had sui-rendered ; .-ind Mr. Bradlee was assassinated 
 piecemeal, and thrown over board. When will our national debt of 
 "gratitude" to France be discharged ! 
 
 * The tyrant Nabis, when any of his rebellious subjects refused to 
 loan liim the sum of money, he demanded, ordered them to embrace 
 liis Apega, which was the statue of a beautiful woman, moving by 
 invisible mechanism, with a dagger concealed in the vestments that 
 ornamented her bosom. 
 
ORATION. 207 
 
 theological writings. But the late luminous developement of 
 their moral and political levity and turpitude has established 
 in America the celebrated opinion, that the national character 
 of France is an amalgamation of the two most opposite quali- 
 ties in the composition of human nature ; the artful ferocity 
 of the Tyger, and the thoughtless frivolity of the Ape. From 
 the barbarous reign of Clovis, when the skull-bone of an enemy 
 was used as the festal goblet at the banquet of victory, to the 
 silken empire of Madame Tallien, whose Idalian palace is 
 decorated with the pictures and statues of Italy, the French 
 nation have been successively occupied in giving fashions to 
 Europe, or in deluging it with blood. Paris, as these contra- 
 rient propensities have predominated, has been alternately the 
 toy-shop of folly, the divan of conspiracy, or the charnel-house 
 of massacre. The French Republick has exhibited all the 
 vices of civilization, without one of the virtues of barbarism. 
 It is true that France, at some periods of her history, has been 
 considered an amiable nation. But these po&hed intervals 
 have seldom occurred, but as the ominous precursors of new 
 political convulsions. They have resembled the awful pause, 
 that predicts the ravages of the hurricane, the horrible silence, 
 that preludes the eruption of a volcano. 
 
 Political Empiricism has never attained, in any age or 
 nation, so universal an ascendency, as at the present day in 
 the " Illuminated Republick." Unfettered by the fear of 
 innovation, and unshackled by the prejudice of ages, the mod- 
 ern Frenchman is educated in a system of moral and religious 
 chimeras, which dazzle by their novelty those volatile intel- 
 
308 ORATION. 
 
 lects, which prescriptive wisdom could never impress with 
 . veneration. Every Frenchman, who has read a little, is a 
 pedant ; and the whole race of these hom-book Philosophers 
 is content with the atheism of Mirabeau, the historick pages 
 of RoUin and Plutarch, the absurd philanthropy of Condorcet, 
 and the visionary politics of Rosseau.* These are the boun- 
 daries of their literary ambition, of their political science. 
 Hence it is, that they pretend to be too enlightened for belief, 
 too virtuous for government. Hence too it is, that their 
 courts of jurisprudence are but a solemn mockery of justice. 
 In its present state of corruption, the French trial by jury is 
 more preposterously barbarous, than the Gothick decision by 
 camp-fight, and more venal and precarious, than the verdict 
 of an Inquisition. Professing to discard every religious obli- 
 gation, it is the first creed of republican France, that there is no 
 God ; and the sanctity of an oath is held in equal solemnity by 
 a French Juryman, with the truth of a sonnet to his mistress's 
 eye-brow by a French Poet ! By annihilating the sacred 
 source of justice, the common assurances of liberty must be 
 subverted and destroyed ; and, in this universal dilapidation 
 of principle, the institutes of Justinian will share the same 
 fate with the papal decrees of Gregory, or the municipal polity 
 of Alfred, The protecting arm of the law has been pai'alized 
 by the leporous poisons of vice and infidelity ; and life, liberty 
 and property, the imprescriptible rights of every one, are now 
 reduced, by these disinterested disciples of equality, to a mei-e 
 
 * See " Residence in France," described in a series of Letters 
 from an English Lady ; prepared for the press by John GiflTord, Esq. 
 
©RATION. 309 
 
 lubricous dependance on the will of the Directory. The sub- 
 stance of these alienable privileges has been refined to a 
 vapor ; and the splendid evanescence , that remains, is nothing 
 but the air-bloAvn bubble of the school-boy, whose tenuous 
 essence has scarce weight enough to gravitate, or density to 
 rarify, and vnW vanish in a sun-beam, or dissolve at the touch. 
 The cabinet of the Luxembourgh, having thus introduced 
 and effectuated a scheme of national demoralization, have 
 removed the strongest barrier, that could be opposed to the 
 accomplishment of their ambitious designs, a military despo- 
 tism. The impracticable system of a permanent oligarchy 
 ©an never have been the uniform consummation, to which 
 these modern Cromwells have aspired. The essence of all 
 their plans is to consolidate in the executive all the powers of 
 the government, by reducing the popular branches to such 
 sequacious docility, that, like the States General under the Mon- 
 archy, they may be convened and dismissed at the beck of an 
 arbitrary master. " Every one," says Mallet du Pan, " who 
 has aspired to the administration of the revolution, has been 
 labouring only to force open for himself the door of wealth 
 and power, and then to shut it after him." This has been the 
 continued tissue of their policy from the Philosophers of '89 
 to the Tyrants of '98. From the martyrdom of their Monarch 
 to the dethronement of their God ! And, from the present 
 ^ apparent solution of this political riddle, it is highly probable, 
 that the French nation, after having been successively deluded 
 by the splendid follies, the magnificent crimes, and fascinating 
 theories, with which their revolution has been disgracefully 
 
310 ORATION. 
 
 embellished, will at last return to their original servitude, with 
 the loss of their former morals, the stain of accumulated bar- 
 barism, and the corrosive reflection of having deserved every 
 misery, they endure. 
 
 While this aspiring project of concentrating the publick 
 authority has been generating and maturing in the council- 
 chamber of the Directory, and v^^aiting only a propitious junc- 
 tion for its establishment, the more ambitious scheme of 
 universal dominion,* w^hich has for ages descended, like an 
 heirloom, with the royal palace of France has been revived 
 by these thrifty speculators in human misery, with an enthu- 
 siasm, that would charactei'ize the madman of Sweden ; has 
 been prosecuted with more fantastick ferocity, than formerly 
 desolated tlie plains of Palestine ; and has been rendered more 
 illustrious by its heroes and its achievements, than the hitherto 
 unparallelled glory of chivalry, the Siege of Candia. The 
 pageantry of its victories concealed the subtle policy, which 
 had secured them. The ludicrous doctrine of a moral, physi- 
 
 * In a late celebrated " Historical Essay on the Ambition and 
 conquests of France," printed in London, 1797, the American politi- 
 cian will find it satisfactorily demonstrated, that the boundaries, to 
 which the republican rules of France are aiming to extend her domin- 
 ion, are the same, which her monarchs have for three hundred years 
 been struggling' to obtain. The same ruinous ambition, which char- 
 acterizes the present French ministers, is incontestibly proved to 
 have existed in the time of Richelieu, and is perspicuously traced 
 " through the wearisome reigns of Louis the superb, Louis the liber- 
 tine, and Louis the insincere, to the present Louisless form of 
 government." 
 
ORATIOK. 311 
 
 cal and personal equality and the fanatical plan of universal 
 liberty were the most captivating allurements, to enlist the 
 prejudices of the people under the crusading banners of Insur- 
 rection* This political fruit of temptation, like the apple 
 from the tree of knowledge, could not be withstood by the 
 curiosity of mankmd. It was so artfully pi-esented, it bloomed 
 so deliciously fair, and looked so invitingly innocent, that 
 surely there could be no haraa in a taste ! But, to the 
 ' untempted gaze of the distant spectator, to the analyzing eye 
 of the real philosopher this stupendous doctrine of confusion 
 assumed a potentous and alarming aspect. Terrible in its 
 splendour, it seemed, like the comet approaching its perihelion, 
 in so elliptical a path, that its flaming progress must impinge 
 on every orbit in our system, ere it could complete the tour 
 of its destination, and return into the regions of Chaos. 
 
 The great foundations of those European governments, 
 which have been enslaved by Republican liberty, were loos- 
 ened and undermined by the torrent of French principles, 
 before the attack upon their out-works was commenced by 
 the French artillery. Their bulwarks were tottering to their 
 fall, before these illuminated Knights-errant approached the 
 battlements to conqvier the people into freedom ! By opening 
 the wall of allegiance, the fatal breach was made, through 
 which the wooden horse was to be inducted ; and to the folly 
 of popular superstition were alike destined to be sacrificed 
 the humble dwellmgs of the credulous multitude, the splen- 
 did palaces of the nobles, and the venerable temples of the 
 Deity. 
 
$M ORATION. 
 
 The all-devouring republick has neither spared the imbe^ 
 cillity of the weak, nor respected the sanctity of the sacred. 
 Not content with the succumbing pliability of Spain, the coerced 
 neutrality of Prussia, and the trophied wrecks and servile 
 prostration of Italy, her carnivorous appetite has pampered 
 its gluttony on the temporalities of unoffending bishops, the 
 charters of free cities, and the feeblest electorates and duke- 
 doms, from whose enmity she had nothing to fear, from whose 
 plunder she had little to gain. Her only attributes have been 
 intrigue and voracity ; she has been ingenious only to corrupt, 
 and valiant only to destroy i 
 
 Wherever the revolutionary mania has prevailed, confusion 
 and conspiracy have been the symptoms of the disease, and 
 misery and massacre its crisis. Holland was bit by the French 
 tarantula, and nothing could cure the wound but French 
 music. No other remedy would do ; and for six years, she 
 has been dancing round a Pike-staff to the tune of Ca Ira, 
 till her treasury is exhausted by the expenses of the piper ! 
 
 The once fertile and flourishing pi-ovinces of Belgium 
 have been incorporated, plundered and depopulated. Their 
 fire-sides have been polluted by the debaucheries of French- 
 men ; their dykes have been filled with the bodies of their 
 fellow-citizens. 
 
 Venice, the eldest sister in the family of modern republicks, 
 after being embraced by the " Terrible People," has been 
 sent to market, like a Circassian beauty, tricked out in her 
 gaudiest attire, and sold for the household service of the 
 Emperor. 
 
ORATIO>f. SI 3 
 
 Geneva was once the bee-hive of Europe. Active, harmo* 
 nious and skilful, it was th6 most industrious, the most inge-= 
 nious, the happiest of nations, till its crude, unpolished, 
 antiquated notions of liberty were alchymised in the all-dis- 
 solving crucible of French Philosophy. Art, genius, industry, 
 vanished in the subtlety of the experiment ; and Geneva now 
 exists only on the map of the geographer. 
 
 The inhabitants of Switzerland, whose unconquei'able fore- 
 fathers had resisted and repelled the concentrated forces of 
 Austria, for five hundred years enjoyed as pure a system of 
 liberty, as could subsist in the pastoral state of mankind. But, 
 alas ! these honest and gallant Helvetians, who had been the 
 faithfuj allies of France above a century and a half, have also 
 been entangled in the fate-woven toils of her friendship. Their 
 hereditary love of democracy was fevered to infatuation by the 
 modern refinenaent of " rights and liberties ;" and, in the 
 poignant experience of these blessings, they are now writhing 
 under the disastrous infliction of the right to groan, the liberty 
 to starve ! They had only to unite and to conquer, but they 
 have been divided and enslaved. Tbey could find no protec- 
 tion in the rugged height of their mountains, no shelter in the 
 happy humbleness of their vallies. Their persevering bene- 
 factors pursued their victims above the clouds, and deluged 
 their meadows with the blood of their cultivators. But, trem- 
 ble Frenchmen ! The Swiss will not live to be slaves ; and 
 though your pestilent alliance is as palsying as the touch of 
 the Torpedo, they will struggle for their lost independences 
 40 
 
314. ORATION. 
 
 while one of their descendants remains unbutchered by your 
 fraternal benevolence. Yes ! the shade of Tell has already 
 risen from his grave ; and the spirit of Liberty, terrible in 
 arms, again stalks on the blood-crimsoned tops of the Glaciers. 
 That the same gigantick principle of domination, which has 
 impelled France to the mad enterprise of subduing and bar- 
 barizing Europe, has invariably controled her conduct to our 
 own country, is a truth, as irrefragable, as it is momentous. 
 From the first signing of the treaty of alliance, whose dissolu- 
 tion we this day celebrate, the ministry of Versailles had con- 
 ceived this iniquitous project. To check the pride of an 
 inveterate rival, they generously condescended to assist our 
 infant republick in its struggle with an overweening step- 
 mother ; in the hope, that the froward child, overwhelmed 
 with a sense of gratitude, would leap into the arms of its disin- 
 terested benefactors ; or, if its obstinate principles of indepen- 
 dence should remain unshaken, that, deprived of the nurturing 
 pov/er, and exposed to the systematick resentment of Great 
 Britain, it would soon be compelled to receive the protection 
 of Frenchmen on their own terms, and fall an easy prey to 
 their arts and their arms, their gold and their gun-powder. 
 When the treaty of peace was in negociation,anew outline of 
 the same elaborate system was betrayed. By the fiend-like 
 hypocrisy, and collusive machinations of the French Minister, 
 the whole navigation of the Mississippi, from its sources to the 
 ocean, with an immense tract of the most valuable contiguous 
 country, were to be ceded to Spain ; and the American right 
 
ORATION. 315 
 
 in the fisheries of Newfoundland, an inexhaustible mine of 
 commerce, from which our enterprising citizens might enrich 
 the coffers and strengthen the nerves of our government, was 
 to be sacrificed to Great Britain.* The calculating cabinet 
 of France readily suggested and countenanced these degrad- 
 ing propositions ; because it well knew, that to environ the 
 two extremes of our territory with the colonies of European 
 powers, whom she could at any time render hostile to our 
 interests, was one great stride towards reducing us to a state 
 of dependence on her bountiful aid ; and because it cleai^ly 
 foresaw, that our extended line of sea-coast would soon need 
 a naval defence, and that the fisheries, if left in our power, 
 would be the nurseries of our seamen, the hardiest race of 
 our inhabitants, who have nov/ become the avenging protect- 
 ors of their country, and the ocean that laves it. But with 
 such specious plausibility was this pregnant measure conduct- 
 ed, that even the acute judgment of a Franklin, whose eleva- 
 ted mind could behold the thunder-cloud in its ignition, as a 
 subject of philosophical experiment, was duped and deluded 
 by the Gobelin tapestry, which concealed the mighty mischief; 
 and America, at this day, is indebted, for these important 
 branches of her national commerce and aggrandizement, to 
 
 * Great Britain, our inveterate oppressor, from whom we had 
 revolted, w^as willing- to acknowledge our right in the fisheries ; but 
 France, our trusty ally, was opposed to it ! Count A^ergennes even 
 yeproached Mr, FItzherbert for the passive surrender. 
 
316 ORATION. 
 
 the firmness and wisdom of that enlightened patriot, the cal. 
 umniated Jay ; and to the penetrating policy, and inflexible 
 decision of that virtuous and unrivalled Statesman, who has 
 now rendered his countrymen as happy and as glorious by his 
 administration, as he had before made his country immortal by 
 Ms talents. 
 
 To detail the progress of this ravenous ambition, by which 
 France has been actuated in her designs on the Government 
 and People of America, since the convulsions of Europe have 
 given ampler scope to her diplomatick dexterity, would be 
 but to repeat the voluminous history of her unblushing perfi- 
 dies, and the melancholy record of our national degradation. 
 Who does not remember the letter to Mazzei, or the arrival 
 of Genet ? Who has forgotten that dubious sera in our history, 
 when illuminated fraternities were scattered, like the pestife- 
 rious effluvia of the poison-tree of Java, from Altamaha to St. 
 Croix ? When anarchy and disorganization were the order 
 of the day, and French consuls, and French assignats the order 
 of the night ? When our " civick feasts" were introduced to 
 celebrate French victories, and our " water-melon frolicks" 
 to disseminate French principles ? When political infidelity 
 was a paramount title to the suffrages of the people ? When 
 Foreign Influence, like the golden calf, seduced multitudes 
 from the worship of true liberty ? When our government 
 Stood trembling on the crater of revolution, whose combustible 
 materials were kindling for its destruction ? Who does not 
 recollect that disastrous juncture, when the epidemy of atheism 
 
OR\TfOisr, 317 
 
 and anarchy was so fatally virulent, that though some few of 
 the leaders of the faction had been regularly innoculated by 
 French Mountebanks, more than half of the people of America 
 had taken it in the natural way ? To check this dstemper, 
 the depleting medicine of Reason was an abortive prescrip- 
 tion : You might as well attempt to restore a lunatick to his 
 senses by a decoction of poppies, or to cure the pestilence of 
 Smyrna by the panaceous elixir of Don Quixote. 
 
 At one period, so rapid and extensive was, the current of 
 these republican ethicks, that the terrible alluvion had well 
 nigh swept away every monument of civilization, that brightens 
 society ; whelmed every virtue, that corrects the obliquities 
 of human life; and desolated every hope of happiness, that 
 attaches man to a future existence ! 
 
 The fanaticism, that infected the people, extended its con- 
 tagion even to the admmistration. Who has not heard of the 
 philosopher Randolph, and the discovery of the " flour plot ?" 
 The anxiety, incident to crime, generally furnishes the clue to 
 its detection ; and the designs of this apostle of democracy 
 had never been ascertained in the extent of their baseness, had 
 not his own guilty garrulity, " drawn like French wire," and 
 bedight vt^ith fiiiagree syllogism, prattled and quibbled thi^ough 
 many a meagre page, to prove himself the traitor, he Avas 
 called I The Roman capitol, and the liberties of America, 
 have both been preserved by the cackling of a goose ! 
 
 Still, however, the faction, like Antseus, grew stronger by 
 its fall ; till its midnight cabals, its secret complottings, and 
 
318 ORATION. 
 
 Gatalinian conspiracies, were detected, exposed and confound- 
 ed, by our guardian Washington ; who, like Uriel descend- 
 ing on the sun-beam, discerned the latent fiend entering our 
 paradise in a mist 1 But so audacious was the apostacy of our 
 disorganizers, that the development of their ci'imes only served 
 to harden their effrontery. The obituary " Hie Jacet" of our 
 federal constitution was already written in blood by the disci- 
 ples of Barras ; and this fair domain of liberty, this last and 
 noblest empire of time, was first to be lulled into a deceitful 
 security by the hypocritick cant of French philosophy, and 
 then to be reasoned into conviction by the cogent logick of 
 French bayonets. 
 
 When the flame of indignation, enkindled by the dispatches 
 from our Envoys, burst spontaneous from the bosom of every 
 honest American, where was the boasted sincerity of this am- 
 icable nation ? She denied the officiality of her corrupt agents, 
 and with malignant contrition solicited a ncAV diplomatick in- 
 tercourse ! But what was the object of this temporising pol- 
 icy, — ^^,vhat these hostile proffers of peace ? Were they not 
 new baits for our credulity, — ^new " springes to catch Wood- 
 cocks ?" To cool the publick resentment by delay, to give 
 direction and confidence to her proselytes, and to collect her 
 dissipated influence for the decisive blow ? But I trust, my 
 young friends, and fellov,^-citizens, that you are now deeply 
 convinced, that France, under its present rulers, will make no 
 treaty witli you, Avhich you ought in honour to sign ; and that 
 a government, Avhichhas derided religion, as a farce, denounced 
 
ORATION. 319 
 
 the laws of nations, as " worm-eaten codes," and torn up 
 the foundations of social virtue, has no pledge to offer for the 
 sincerity of its intentions, no sanction to seal the obligation of 
 its contracts ! To expect a rigid adherence to the maxims of 
 national justice from a people, which has thus annihilated all 
 its religious and political duties, would be as fatal, as it is vain. 
 It would be more rational and safe, to sleep v/ith the crocodile 
 on the banks of the Nile, or repair to the den of the panther 
 for the hospitable banquet ! 
 
 But is this metaphysical depravity, this false system of reas- 
 on and morals, forever to disconnect the two countries ? I an- 
 swer. No ! Though our political alliance with France is, I 
 trust, forever dissolved, yet, when the frivolous fluctuations of 
 her government shall have subsided to a permanent organiza- 
 tion, it is pi'obable a new commercial relation may be adopted. 
 But let not the virtue and allegiance of our citizens be seduced 
 by the hopeful delusions of emolument. The feculence of 
 party is not yet drained of its rankest sediment. The wor- 
 shippers of democracy, though their alters are thrown down, 
 are not yet converted from their devotions. The frozen snake 
 has still some sparks of animation ; and, if placed by compas- 
 sion near your hospitable fires, he Avill yet revive Avith exas- 
 perated venom, and sting the hardy fool that fostered him. 
 Deal therefore with these ferocious demoralizers, as our crafty 
 mariners trade with the savages of the Indian ocean — with 
 your men at their posts, your guns loaded, and your slow 
 matches burning ! 
 
320 ORATION. 
 
 A pure, unmixed Jacobin, of the secondary order, is an en- 
 enniy to all govei'nments, under which he holds no office. Be 
 it a republick, it is venal ; an aristocracy, it is feudal ; a 
 monarchy, it is despotick. In short, he barks for a pension, 
 and raves at his obscurity. Reverse the scene ; present him 
 a piece of parchment with the President's seal appendant, 
 and you will see 
 
 " That lowliness is young Ambition's ladder. 
 Whereto the limber upwards turns bis face. 
 But when he once hi tains the topmost round. 
 He then unto the ladder turns his back. 
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees, 
 By which he did ascend." — 
 
 Invest a Jacobin (of this minor species) in the enviable digni- 
 ties of a federal commission, and his former virulence will be 
 instantly mollified to the most submissive servility. He will 
 attack his old companions in iniquity, and beat them at their 
 own weapons ; he will write federal libels on the publick 
 fences, and break the windows of the Chronicle office ! From 
 a most ferocious, he is transformed to a most tractable animal ; 
 and from a town-meeting caviller against priests and place- 
 men, he becomes the very scavenger of admmistration !* 
 Such is the legitimate plebeian democrat ; a mere poisonous 
 fungus, produced by the effervescence of the times, " like the 
 
 * This character is only applicable to the mere apprentices of the 
 disorganizing- craft, who, from their hebetude, and the incrusted 
 maxims of puritanick education cannot relish the sublime horrours 
 of abstract profligacy ; and are therefore deemed unfit candidates to 
 be initiated into the higher mysteries of illuminatism ! 
 
ORATION. 32 1 
 
 green mantle on the standing pool," by the putrid exhalatioa 
 of a summer's sun. 
 
 But a Jacobin of Weishaupt's school never changes his 
 principles : honours and promotions never alter a title of his 
 creed ; and he aspires to office only for the purpose of embez- 
 zling tlie revenues, and prostrating the happiness of his comi- 
 try. A character, so inveterately perverse, has no capacity 
 to appreciate the real blessings of Religion, Government or 
 Liberty. His whole science is directed to unliinge society, 
 his whole ambition to plunder it. He is too ravenous to be 
 content with a system of order himself ; and too selfish to 
 permit its enjoyment by others. Like a hog in a flower- 
 garden, he sets no value on the variegated foliage he destroys, 
 and seems only desirous to root out every twig of vegetation, 
 that can satiate his voracity.* 
 
 That a free government should always be corroded by a 
 desperate faction is as natural, as that the luxuriance of tlie 
 soil should be known by the rankness of its weeds ; that the 
 majestick oak should be entwined by the baleful ivy ; or tliat 
 
 * To do justice to his subject, the style of a writer must conform 
 to it. Were a poet to conjure down every planet and constellation, 
 that " frets with gold the vaulted roof of heaven," or to pilfer every 
 nosegay from the bosom of Flora, he would not find, in the whole 
 motley mass of his plundei', afit simile for a jacobin ! he must descend 
 to the most groveling and churlish of the brute creation. The great 
 Burke himself, in some of his most celebrated speeches in parlia- 
 ment, and particularly in his " Letter to the Duke of Bedford" was 
 compelled to commit this outrage on the delicate taste of a critical 
 publick ! 
 
 41 
 
322 ORATION, 
 
 the most fruitful productions of the vegetable world should be 
 selected by the cancerous tooth of the caterpillar. 
 
 In the fickle climate of democracy, it is not rational to 
 expect a settled season of unclouded tranquillity ; the torpor 
 of the elements, and the serenity of the sky are the surest 
 harbingers, that the storm is generating. But, to use the meta- 
 phor of Mr. Jefferson, should the " tempestuous sea of Lib- 
 erty" again dash its audacious billows against the sides of 
 our government, it will become the duty of our political pilots, 
 in imitation of sacred example, to seize the unrighteous Jonah, 
 whose treachery had roused the angry spirits of the deep, and 
 plunge him into the foaming waves, to appease the rebellious 
 clement. 
 
 The same implacable principle of opposition, which has 
 hitherto directed the virulence of our leading demagogues 
 against every thing, that is American, either in Religion or 
 Laws, has levelled their most pointed opprobrium against this 
 celebration of an important anniversary, which has reflected 
 so much honour and dignity on the enterprizing and discern- 
 ing patriotism of the Young Men of Boston. The most anti- 
 quated and " woe-begone" among these acute politicians, who 
 are also the most inveterate in their prejudices, and the most 
 despotick in their pi-inciples, have assailed you, my young 
 friends, with the charge of juvenile presumption in thus con- 
 temptuously daring to oppose the ricketty decisions of their 
 ridiculous wisdom. To so feeble an attack, it will be only 
 necessary to reply, that the Young Men of Boston have not 
 
ORATION. 323 
 
 yet grown grey in the vices of childhood, nor remained stupid 
 in spite of experience. 
 
 The solemn oath of America has ascended to heaven. She 
 has sworn to preserve her Independence, her religion and her 
 laws, or nobly perish in their defence, and be buried in the 
 wrecks of her empire. To the fate of our Government is 
 imited the fate of our Country. The convulsion, that destroys 
 the one, must desolate the other. Their destinies are inter- 
 woven, and they must triumph or fall together. Where then 
 is the man, so hardened in political iniquity, as to advocate the 
 victories of French arms, which would render his countiymen 
 slaves, or to promote the diffusion of French principles, which 
 would render them savages ? Can it be doubted, that the pike 
 of a French soldier is less cruel and ferocious than the frater- 
 nity of a French Philosopher ? Where is the youth in this 
 assembly, who could, without agonized emotions, behold the 
 Gallick invader hurling the brand of devastation into the dwel- 
 ling of his father ; or with sacrilegious cupidity plundering 
 the communion-table of his God ? Who could witness, without 
 indignant desperation, the mother, who bore him, inhumanly 
 murdered, in the defence of her infants ? Who could hear, 
 without frantick horrour, the shrieks of a sister, flying from 
 pollution, and leaping from the blazing roof, to impale herself 
 on the point of a halbert ? " If any, speak, for liim have I 
 offended 1" No, my fellow citizens, these scenes are never to 
 be witnessed by American eyes. The soul of your ancestors 
 still lives in the bosom of their descendants ; and rather than 
 submit this fair land of their inheritance to ravage and dishon- 
 
324 ORATION. 
 
 our, from hoary age to helpless infancy, they will form one 
 united bulwark, and oppose their breasts to the assailing foe. 
 Not one shall survive, to be enslaved ; for ere the tri-coloured 
 flag shall wave over our prostrate republic^, the bones of four 
 millions of Americans shall whiten the shores of their country ! 
 This depopulated region shall be as desolate, as its original 
 wilderness ; the re-vegetating forest shall cover the ruins of 
 our cities ; and the savage shall return from the mountains, 
 and again rear his hut in the abode of his forefathers. Then 
 shall commence the millenium of political illumination ; and 
 Frenchmen and wolves, " one and indivisible," nightly chaunt 
 their barbarous orgies, to celebrate the PhilosopMck Empire 
 of Democracy I 
 
 That America will ultimately be reduced under Gallick 
 control is the " flattering unction," which our disorganizers 
 have " laid to their souls." They have long been predicting 
 the crisis of a new explosion ; and are now anticipating the 
 Christian luxury of triumph and revenge. But let tliem be 
 no longer deceived ; Americans are as enlightened, as they 
 have proved themselves invincible; and the rock-rooted 
 foundations of their government can only be shaken by a rev- 
 olution of the moral world ! 
 
 The progress of truth is slow, but irresistable. Its tem- 
 perate light has at length dawned in Europe, dispelled the 
 sickly vapours of illuminatism, and awakened the dormant 
 spirit of nations. The armies and fleets of France will op- 
 pose its diffusion in vain. The gilt folios of her Savans 
 cannot divert its operation ; it will overwhelm all obstacles iii 
 
ORATIOSf. 32S 
 
 its passage, like the cataract in its fall, and affect every region 
 in its career, like the motion of this " great globe itself." 
 Already have the boasted conquerors of Italy, covered with 
 disaster, disgrace and defeat, retraced their blood-printed 
 footsteps through the realms, they had desolated. Already 
 do the nations, enslaved by their perfidy, shake off their 
 ignommious submission, and rise to " break their chains on 
 the heads of their oppressors." The fictitious fabrick of 
 French glory, like the Pantheon at Paris, is already cracked 
 in its dome, and will ere long crumble into ruins, beneath the 
 ponderous pressure of its own incumbent magnificence. 
 
 The government of our country, rich in its resources, 
 happy in the blessings, it dispenses, and strong in the alle- 
 giance of its citizens, is daily maturing in its wisdom and* 
 respectability, like the character of the people, it governs. 
 Essential to its very existence is publick virtue. It is the 
 bark of our political tree, which conveys the sap to its branches; 
 the channel, which supplies its vegetation with aliment. 
 Should this vital principle of republicks be perpetuated in its 
 vigour and purity, we may fondly hope the longevity of our 
 government will be indefinitely protracted. Then may we 
 prophecy, that when this century, in the obscuring retrospect 
 of time, shall be numbered with the years beyond the flood, 
 when the historick fragments of its stupendous events, covered 
 with the venerable honours of antiquity, shall be traced by the 
 future historian, as the wondering traveller, m his classick 
 pilgrimage, now contemplates the ruins of Balbeck, the revolv- 
 
?26 ORATION. 
 
 ing sun shall not behold, in his journey of ages, a nation, so 
 illustrious in its Independence, so happy in its Laws. 
 
 Then shall the heroes and statesmen, who have preserved 
 and exalted our country, never be indebted to the charity of a 
 foreigner, to snatch their memories from oblivion ; nor their 
 tombs be defended by the reproachful paling of iron, to pre- 
 serve their ashes from violation. Then shall America, fired 
 with the noblest emulation of national spirit, and disdaining to 
 discharge her debts of honour by the contracted ledger of 
 republican gratitude, never want the cannon of a Truxton, to 
 shake the ocean with her resentment ; the lightning of a 
 Pickering, to flash conviction on her foes ; nor the arm of a 
 Washington, to catch the thunderbolts of France on his buck- 
 ler ! the oaken garland* of triumphant Liberty shall bloom with 
 unfading honours ; the solid cement, which connects the 
 hemispheric arch of our union, shall acquii-e new strength 
 and durability from the tempests of t^me ; and the prayers of 
 each succeeding generation, proudly exulting in the blessings 
 transmitted to them, shall, in unison with ours. 
 
 To Heaven's high throne with rapture be addressed. 
 Long- live Columbia, and be Adams blest ! 
 
 *The oaken garland was, among the Romans, the trophy of hon- 
 our, that encircled the brows of a victorious general. 
 
EULOGY 
 
 ON THE LIFE OF 
 
 GENERAL GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
EULOG Y 
 
 AMERICANS, 
 
 X HE Saviour of your country has obtained his last victory. 
 Having reached the summit of human perfection, he has quit- 
 ted the region of human glory. Conqueror of time, he has 
 triumphed over mortality ; Legate of Heaven, he has returned 
 with the tidings of his mission ; Father of his people, he has 
 ascended to advocate their cause in the bosom of his God. 
 Solemn, " as it were a pause in nature," was his transit to 
 eternity ; thronged by the shades of heroes, his approach to 
 the confines of bliss ; planed by the song of angels, his jour- 
 ney beyond the stars I 
 
 The voice of a grateful and afRicted people has pronounced 
 the eulogium of their departed hero ; '■'•Jirst in war, first in 
 peace, first in the hearts of his countryvien." That this exalt- 
 ed tribute is justly due to his memory, the scar-honoured 
 veteran, who has fought under the banners of his glory, the 
 enraptured statesman, who has bowed to the dominion of his 
 eloquence, the hardy cultivator, whose soil has been defended 
 42 
 
330 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 
 
 by the prodigies of his valour, the protected citizen, whose 
 peaceful rights have been secured by the vigilance of his 
 ■wisdom ; yea, every fibre, that can vibrate in the heart of an 
 American, will attest with agonized sensibility. 
 
 Born to direct the destiny of empires, his character was as 
 majestick, as the events, to which it was attached, were illus- 
 trious. In the delmeation of its features, the vivid pencil of 
 Genius cannot brighten a trait, nor the blighting breath of Cal- 
 umny obscure. His principles were the result of organick 
 philosophy, his success of moral justice. His integrity as- 
 sumed the port of command, his intelligence, the aspect of 
 inspiration. Glory, to many impregnable, he obtained without 
 ambition ; popularity, to all inconstant, he enjoyed without 
 jealousy. The one was his from admiration, the other from 
 gratitude. The former embellished, but could not reward ; 
 the latter followed, but never could lead him. The robust 
 vigour of his virtue, like the undazzled eye of the Eagle, was 
 inaccessible to human weakness ; and the unaspiring tem- 
 perament of his passions, like the regenerating ashes of the 
 Phoenix, gave new life to the greatness, it could not extinguish. 
 In the imperial dignity of his person was exhibited the august 
 stature of his mind : 
 
 " See what a grace was seated on his brow. 
 An eye like Mars, the front of Jove himself, 
 A combination, and a form indeed, 
 Where every God did seem to set his seal. 
 To give the world assurance of a man !" 
 
EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 331 
 
 Oppressed by the disconsolate sensibilities, which this mel- 
 ancholy occasion has excited, yet inspired by a veneration, 
 which no sense of calamity can suspend, how shall the feeble 
 eulogist of the moment I'etrace the path of the hero through 
 the rugged acclivities of his fame ; how shadow the outlines 
 of a life, whose influence on society has baiRed the imitation 
 of the wise ; how define the great proportions of a character, 
 which, like the electrick principle, can only be desci'ibed by 
 its effects ? What wing of human description shall soar to 
 the unclouded height of his talents, what chemistry of human 
 judgment shall separate the elements of his virtues ? The 
 magnificence of his deeds has outvied the heraldry of fancy ; 
 and the purity of his motives has bewildered the deductions 
 of reason. 
 
 From his first appearance on the theatre of publick life, 
 ere the modest simplicity of enterprize had invited the deco- 
 rations of artificial honour, ere the " hair-breadth escapes" of 
 the Monongahcla had elicited the native energies of heroism, 
 to the maturest era of his excellence, when victory had noth- 
 ing left to bestow, and Fame herself had dispaired of render- 
 ing to his merits their equivalent reward, we behold the same 
 undeviating course of magnanimous action, rising, like the 
 sun, in gradual and majestick progression. In no situation, 
 to which the emergencies of his country have called him, 
 however insulated with peril, or fortified by prosperity, do we 
 at any time detect his invincible equanimity modified by inci- 
 dent. In no climax of fortU;ne do we behold him dejected 
 by obstacle, or elevated by success ; desperate in danger, or 
 
332 EtlLOGY ON WASHINGTON. 
 
 sanguine in triumph. Deliberate to concert, he was vigorous 
 to execute ; intrepid to conquer, he was humane to forgive. 
 In council, he united the calculations of the veteran to the 
 ruling impulse of the patriot : in battle, he never shed the 
 blood of an enemy, but for victory, nor gained a victory, but for 
 his country. 
 
 As the director of that important and dubious contest, which 
 issued in the establishment of our liberty and independence, 
 he displayed an impressive grandeur of exertion, which niar- 
 shalled into hostility the fluctuating vigour of his countrymen, 
 and is still remembered with awe in the astonishment of 
 nations. To the rapacious cabinet of the mother country, 
 which had recently learnt, in the disastrous campaign of Brad- 
 dock, that her gloiy was mortal, he had given his name a 
 formidable estimation by his military prowess on that memor- 
 able occasion. In the enjoyment of an ample paternal domain, 
 he was reposing \uider the groves of fame and philosophy, 
 when the chafed lion of New-England " leaped on the daring 
 huntsman, that had galled him," and boldly bade defiance to 
 his power. The dawn of our revolution was overshadowed 
 with clouds, that would have damped the ardour of any people, 
 whose bosoms Avere noti nspired by the incontrollable enthusi- 
 asm of liberty. But what hope of success could this high- 
 born principle, though stimulated by injury, afford to the 
 unwarlike peasantry of a country, without arms, without dis- 
 cipline, without funds, without a leader, in contending with an 
 empire, whose policy and valour had for centuries kept the 
 nations of Europe in its toils ? Yet, at tliis inauspicious 
 
EtTLOGY ON WASHINGTON. 333 
 
 juncture, when every prospect was enveloped with disaster, 
 when unsuccessful opposition could promise no reward, but 
 aggravated oppression, when political infidelity had almost 
 chilled with dismay the kindling fervour of Americans ; at 
 this moment, so potentous, so gloomy, did the calm, inflexible, 
 unassimilating Washington, relinquish without reluctance the 
 magnificent retirement of wealth and honour ; and, committing 
 to the hazard of the contest the pleasures, that allured him to 
 seclusion, and the character, that attached him to life, appealed 
 to the God of armies to attest a soldier's oath, " / will triumph^ 
 or die with my countrymen /" Animated by his guiding intel- 
 ligence, America awoke to the consciousness of her powers ; 
 and, realising the boast of the Roman hero, an army, organized 
 n. by his creative discipline, arose at his command. 
 
 Through the vicissitudes of war, singularly fluctuating in 
 its fortunes, and desolating in its effects, he discovered a con- 
 stant principle of action, which acquired no lustre from the 
 brilliant exploits, it achieved, but derived all its glory from its 
 own original greatness. Self-dependent and self-elevated, it 
 disdained the fictitious aid of circumstance ; and never did it 
 shine with more splendour and energy, than when fortune had 
 deserted him, and his country had despaired. The activity of 
 a fortitude, whose stability was reason, invigorated the opera- 
 tions of an intellect, whose object was liberty. What but this 
 invincible constitution of soul, whose gigantick philosophy 
 always rose with the difficulties, it encountered, could have 
 sustained the drooping cause of an half-conquered people, at 
 that momentous and almost hopeless crisis, when the banks 
 
334 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON- 
 
 of the Delaware were lined by a triumphant enemy, impatient 
 for our subjugation ; when the ranks of our brave defenders, 
 thinned by battle, by famine and retreat, crimsoned their flying 
 encampments with the blood of their foot-steps ; when the 
 fate of a continent was suspended on the incredible exertions 
 of anight, and a conspiracy of the elements opposed the prog- 
 ress of the eventful entei-prize 1 The mind, that was inacces- 
 sible to despair, was invulnerable to disaster ; and at the 
 instant, when the fangs of our Invader were unclutched to 
 fasten on his prey, when his pampered ambition was gloating 
 on the spoils of unconditional submission, the distant thunder 
 of the cannon at Trenton aroused him from his dreams of 
 dominion, and convinced him, that the resources of a Wash- 
 ington were not to be computed by the extent of his 
 entrenchments, nor his activity to be palsied by a campaign of 
 disasters. 
 
 To the pen of the historian must be resigned the more 
 arduous and elaborate tribute of justice to those efforts of he- 
 roick and political virtue, which conducted the American 
 people to peace and liberty. The vanquished foe retii'ed fi'om 
 our respiring shores, and left to the controuling Genius, who 
 repelled them, the gratitude of his own country, and the admi- 
 ration of the world. The time had now arrived, which was 
 to apply the touchstone to his integrity ; Avhich was to assay 
 the affinity of his principles to the standard of immutable right. 
 Enjoying the unbounded confidence of an emancipated people, 
 whose filial reverence had associated in his character a great- 
 ness, unexampled by patriotism, with a purity, unsunned by 
 
EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 335 
 
 suspicion ; and commanding the implicit affections of an army 
 of veterans, whose unliquidated demands, on the justice of an 
 impoverished publick, might have rendered them zealous 
 instruments of ambition ; the deliverer of his country was now 
 the arbiter of its fate. It was now the flood-tide of his glory, 
 on which he had only to embark, and the current would have 
 wafted him to his haven. That decisive moment in the exist- 
 ence of nations and men, on which the destinies of both are 
 suspended, was now flitting- on the dial's point of the crisis. 
 On the one hand, a realm, to which he was endeared by his 
 services, almost invited him to empire : on the other, the lib- 
 erty, to whose protection his life had been devoted, was the 
 ornament and boon of human nature. Washington could not 
 depart from his own great self. His country was free ; he 
 was no longer a general ! Sublime spectacle ! more elevating 
 to the pride of virtue, than the sovreignty of the globe united 
 ... to the sceptre of ages ! Enthroned in the hearts of his country- 
 ^men, the gorgeous pageantry of prerogative was unworthy the 
 majesty of his dominion. That eff"ulgence of military charac- 
 ter, which in ancient states has blasted the rights of the people, 
 whose renown it had brightened, was not here permitted, by 
 the hero, from whom it emanated, to shine with so destructive 
 a lustre. Its beams, though intensely resplendent, did not 
 wither the young blossoms of our independence ; and libertj', 
 like the burning bush, flourished, unconsumed by the glory, 
 which surrounded it. 
 
336 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 
 
 To the illustrious founder of our republick was it reserved, 
 to exhibit the example of a magnanimity, that commanded 
 victory ; of a moderation, that retired from triumph. Unlike 
 the en^atick meteors of ambition, whose flaming path sheds a 
 disastrous light on the pages of history, his bright orb, eclips- 
 ing the luminaries, among which it rolled, never portended 
 " fearful change" fo religion, nor from its '^ golden tresses" 
 shook pestilence on empire. What to other heroes has been 
 glory, would to him have been disgrace. To his intrepidity 
 it would have added no honorary trophy, to have waded, like 
 the conqueror of Peru, through the blood of credulous mil- 
 lions, to plant the standard of triumph at the burnbg mouth 
 of a volcano ! To his fame it would have erected no auxiliary 
 monument, to have invaded, like the ravager of Egypt, an 
 innocent, though barbarous nation, to inscribe his name on 
 the pillar of Pompey ! 
 
 Self, the grand hinge, on which revolve the principles and 
 passions, that have swelled the obituary of nations, made not 
 an unit in the calculations of a mind, which considered gran- 
 deur as the inseparable incident of rectitude ; which owed to 
 fortune nothing of its glory, to enthusiasm nothing of its virtue. 
 From " heaven's high chancery" had issued his commission ; 
 he obeyed the. Godlike precept, it contained; he created a 
 nation ! The glorious work completed, so was his ambition. 
 The reward of his labours was the enjoyment of that liberty, 
 he had protected from violation ; and the boast of his pride 
 Avas the cultivation of that soil, he had defended from subjec- 
 
EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 337 
 
 don. Amid the fondest caresses of fame, that pursued him 
 to i^etirement,— -blush, — ye lieroick murderei-s of mankind I 
 never did the transcendent Washington, on the pinnacle of his 
 greatness, deign to be conscious, that by his talents his country 
 was free, that in her glory himself was immortal ! 
 
 Publick opinion has, in all ages, been as volatile, as the air 
 that wafts it ; and the fate, which has attended the benefactors 
 of their country, has been as chequered, as the passions, and 
 perverse, as the ingratitude of man. A tyrsnt, sainted by the 
 people, he had enslaved, has been elevated to a niche in the 
 Pantheon ; while a hero, whose talents and services had prop- 
 ped a falling empire, has found at last a more faitliful friend 
 in the mastiff, that conducted him, than in the nation he had 
 protected. But it has been the peculiar lot of a Washing- 
 ton, to unite to an integrity, which could impeach the ambi- 
 tion of malice, the vigilance of an enterprise, which could 
 arrest the decisions of fortune. Through the long labours 
 of a life, w^hich forms an epoch in history, never for a moment 
 Avas he rivalled in the affections of his countrymen ; and to the 
 honour of Americans be it recorded, that their gratitude to 
 the man, who had established their independence, existed, at 
 the period of impending anarchy, the only cementing bond of 
 union, which preserved their jarring interests from a destruc- 
 tive coUission. 
 
 The temporary structure of the old confederation, which 
 had been planned merely for the purposes of a revolutionary 
 government, when the passions of the people were united. 
 
338 EULOGY ON WASHI>!rGTON, 
 
 was found, upon a brief experiment, to be totally incompetent, 
 to direct the affairs of an extending nation, when peace had 
 restored the complicated occupations of life, and demanded a 
 more uniform protection from the energies of law. The in- 
 conveniences, resulting from its defects, had given occasion 
 to designing demagogues, who hoped to profit by a separation 
 of the states, to foment divisions among a people, who too 
 lightly valued the blessings, they enjoyed. The union of the 
 country was in danger ; and the evil was of too baneful a na- 
 ture to admit of a partial or dilatory remedy. But, how novel, 
 how aspiring, was the hope of connecting, under one compact 
 code of general jurisprudence, so many distinct sovereignties, 
 each jealous of its independence, without iinpairing their re- 
 spective authorities ? The unbalanced bodies of the confeder- 
 acy, had almost overcome ths attracting powers, that restrained 
 them ; when the watchful guardian of his country's interests, 
 the heart-uniting Washington appeared, the political magnet 
 in the centre of discord, and reconciled and consolidated the 
 clashing particles of the system in an indissoluble union of 
 government. 
 
 Possessing, as well from experience, as intuition, the master 
 science, that could direct the impulses of human action j 
 and invested, by the crowded benefactions of a life of glory, 
 with a charm of eloquence, which impressed the convictions 
 of reason on the pliant gratitude of his countrymen ; he ruled 
 in the counsels of that august body of statesmen and patriots, 
 the fruit of whose co-operating talents was the present consti- 
 
EULOGY ON WAPHINGTON, 339 
 
 tution of America. By the unanimous suffrage of an enlight- 
 ening- and confiding people, appomted to the administration of 
 a government, in Mdiose construction he had exerted so bene- 
 ficial an influence, he brought to the execution of that impor- 
 tant and arduous trust, the energy of a mind, whose elevation 
 could borrow no dignity from station, and the integrity of a 
 heart, whose sensibility could receive no bias, but from his 
 country. With what wisdom and vigour he discharged the 
 hazardous and thronging duties of an incipient magistracy, the 
 revival of political harmony, the extended confidence of com- 
 merce, the unexampled increase of national credit and wealth, 
 and the happiness and morality of the people, will furnish a 
 more satisfactory evidence, than the most brilliant description 
 of the panegyrist. In this unpi'ecedented transition of office, 
 his character has assumed a new and astonishing attitude ; 
 the impenetrable hardihood of the conqueror was rivalled by 
 the intelligent policy of the statesman. Pierced by the glance 
 of his admmistration. Party, like the recreant eye of the felon, 
 shrunk abashed from his scrutiny ; and, unnerved by the sanc- 
 tity of his person, Degeneracy, like the viper at Melita, fell 
 harmless from his hand. Appaled by the oppressive contem- 
 plation of his gratitude, the "cloudcapt" crest of Ambition 
 was overawed by the majesty of virtue ; and, maddened to 
 desperation by the invulnerable purity of his life, the snakes 
 of Envy recoiled upon the head of their mistress, and burrow- 
 ed to the brain, that supplied their venom. 
 
340 EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 
 
 Exemplar of heroes ! in what favoured nation or era shall 
 the exulting philanthropist record the existence of a character, 
 uniting, like thine, in one bright constellation of talents, every 
 civick and military glory, that blazons in legend, or beams in 
 history ! Should we search in the achives of classick antiquity, 
 Ave might find a wise and venerable Fabius, who, like thee, 
 could " save a nation by delay ;" but never, like thee, could 
 seize victory by enterprise, and outstride fortune by the fore- 
 sight of philosophy ! We might behold the majestick Cincin- 
 natus, who, like thee, in the vigour of Roman heroism, could 
 I'etum, from the conquest of his country's enemies, to his 
 humble Mount Vernon beyond the Tyber ; but never, like 
 thee, to protect from faction the liberties, he had wrested from 
 invasion ! We might trace the great Julius, extending the 
 terror of his eagles through realms, before unshadowed by 
 their pinions ; we might follow him to the forum, and listen 
 to an eloquence, like thine, when applauding senates instinctly 
 moved at his controul ; but where, in the map of thy victories, 
 shall we find the banks of a Rubicon ! 
 
 Encumbered with honours, the father of his country once 
 more returned to the unambitious abodes of his affection, fol- 
 lowed by the tears and blessings of his fellow-citizens ! The 
 glory, which had encircled the scenes of his action, could 
 not be excluded by the solitude of retirement. He had de- 
 vested the insignia of command, but his empire was not 
 diminished. He had surrendered the badges of fame, but 
 the gaze of the world did not suspend its veneration. The 
 
EULOGY ON WASHINGTON. 341 
 
 name of Washington was still a battlement to his country, 
 under whose protection liberty exulted ; at whose terrors hos- 
 tility trembled. 
 
 Though remote from the causes of European contest, yet 
 affected by the convulsions, it excited, in vain had our nation 
 attempted to maintain with honour an unprotected neutrality. 
 Piracy plundered the ocean ; Invasion threatened our shores. 
 Again, were the eyes of" America directed with trembling 
 solicitude to her venerable deliverer ; and, again did this man 
 without example, this patriot without reproach, whose life 
 was his country, whose glory was mankind, resign with alac- 
 rity to the cause, he had sworn to defend, the tranquil hope 
 of repose, to which he had devoted the unc-ouded evening of a 
 life of toils 1 The character was perfect ! Washington now 
 touched " the highest point of all his greatness." A more 
 than human splendour surrounded him. The etherial spirit 
 of his virtues towered above the globe, they adorned, and 
 seemed to meditate their departure to their native mansion. 
 Of the frailty of man nothing now remained, but his mortality ; 
 and, having accomplished the embassy of a benevolent Prov- 
 idence ; having been the founder of one nation, and the sub- 
 lime instructor of all, he took his flight to Heaven ; not like 
 Mahomet, for his memory is immortal without the fiction of 
 a miracle ; not like Elijah, for recording time has not regis- 
 tered the man, on whom his mantle should descend ; but in 
 humble imitation of that Omnipotent Architect, who retui-ned 
 
342 EULor;Y on Washington". 
 
 from a created universe, to contemplate from his throne the 
 stupendous fabrick, he had erected ! 
 
 The august form, whose undaunted majesty could arrest 
 the lightening, ere it fell on the bosom of his country, now 
 sleeps in silent I'uin, untenanted of its celestial essence. But 
 the incorruptible example of his virtues shall survive, unim- 
 paired by the corrosion of time; and acquire new vigour and 
 influence, from the crimes of ambition, and the decay of em- 
 pires. The invaluable valediction, bequeathed to the people, 
 who inherited his affections, is the effort of a mind, whose 
 powers, like those of prophecy, could overleap the tardy pi'o- 
 gress of human reason, and unfold truth v/ithout the labour of 
 investigation. Impressed in indelible characters, this Legacy 
 of his intelligence will descend, unsullied as its purity, to the 
 wonder and instruction of succeeding generations ; and, should 
 the mild philosophy of its maxims be ingrafted into the policy 
 of nations, at no distant period will the departed hero, who 
 now lives only in the spotless splendour of his own great 
 actions, exist in the happiness and dignity of mankind. 
 
 The sighs of contemporary gratitude have attended the 
 Sublime Spirit to its paternal abode ; and the prayers of 
 ameliorated posterity will ascend in glowing remembrance of 
 their illustrious benefactor ! The laurels, that now droop, as 
 they shadow his tomb with monumental glory, will be culti- 
 vated by the tears of ages ; and, embalmed in the heart of an 
 admiring world, the Temple, erected to his memory, will be 
 more glorious, than the pyramids, and as eternal, as his OAvn 
 imperishable virtues. 
 
COMMUNICATION, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 
 
The following Observations on the Boston Female Asylum were 
 first published, as a Communication, in the Boston Gazette, 
 April 1, 1802. 
 
 *' Let not the Orphan cry. 
 
 Be Father to me. Heaven ! But bid the cold 
 And houseless ones, pining and pale before. 
 Beholding thee, pluck comfort from thy looks ; 
 
 .....For he, who doth the ravens feed. 
 
 Yea, providently caters for the sparrow. 
 
 Will bless the charity, and treasure up 
 
 A mercy for thee, when thyself shalt need it '." 
 
 i HE Female Orphan Asylum, originally projected, and now 
 honourably established by the Ladies of this town, is undoubt- 
 edly among those institutions, which do high honour to the 
 human heart, as imitating an attribute of divine benevolence, 
 <' in tempering the wind to the shorn lamb ;" but it is also 
 ^mong those inventions of policy, which are marked by histo» 
 rians, as features of the times, characterizing human society, 
 and evincing the state of civilization. To the Ladies of Bos- 
 ton, most exquisite must be the reward of their munificence. 
 But their px'aise is not of words. When I was young, some 
 of the sex persuaded me to believe myself a Poet ; but I can- 
 not recollect a moment, either lucid or delirious, throughout 
 44 
 
346 COMMUNICATION ON THE 
 
 the frolick season of my youthful vanity, when Fancy was bold 
 enough to atten[ipt their panegyrick on such an occasion. But 
 in their closets they will often unexpectedly meet a silent 
 Commentator, sitting in the judgment-seat of memory, penning 
 reflections on Female virtue, and writing fairer lines of Eulogy, 
 than ever flowed from the lips of " Bard inspired." In their 
 excursions too, among the walks of wretchedness and inno- 
 cence, relieved and protected, they will often be compelled to 
 see and to feel, how eloquent is Nature. Theirs shall be the 
 pearly offering of humble, yet proud thankfulness. The tear, 
 which trickles down the little Orphan's cheek, glittering with 
 the reflected smile of its benefactress, is a pearl of moi'e worth 
 than rubies. It is one of nature's hieroglyphicks, and speaks 
 in a language, which the confusion of tongues did not corrupt ; 
 though embellished and beautiful, it is without rhetorical orna- 
 ment ; and though its address is to the eye, where its mystery- 
 is not decyphered, yet it rapidly glides to another tribunal, and 
 dissolves into gratitude at the heart. '■ 
 
 To the fair founders of this Institution will such oblations 
 be frequent. They will flatter not, and yet they will flatter 
 most truly ; for they will meet the consciousness of all female 
 hearts, to which they appeal ; and acquire new sentiment and 
 pathos, from that recollection of good deeds, which inhabits 
 those mansions of peace. 
 
 To complete the benevolent plan, which the Ladies of Bos- 
 ton have so zealously espoused and promoted, a few Gentle^ 
 men of the metropolis have lately off"ered their assistance i, 
 and their attention has been very honourably directed to the 
 
BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 347 
 
 erection of an Orphan House. To men, ranging in spheres 
 of active life, and who ought not, without motives of poignancy, 
 to " shake off the busy coil" of commerce, a brief explication 
 of the views, contemplated by the founders of the " Asylum," 
 seems to be due ; as it is confidently believed, such a disclo- 
 sure will insure their cordial co-operation. 
 
 Female Orphans, from three to ten years of age, are admit- 
 ted into the Asylum, and are the only objects of its institution. 
 They are here placed under the tuition of a Governess, and are 
 instructed in all the useful branches of domestick education, 
 nurtured in habits of decorum, order and morality, accom- 
 plished only in tlie graces of female modesty and virtue, reg- 
 ularly convened in the House of Divine Worship, and snatched 
 from the adulterations of modern philosopliism by the hand 
 of religion, 
 
 " Pointing through Nature, up to Nature's God." 
 
 At the age of ten years, these children are placed in proper 
 families, chosen by the Trustees of the " Asylum," to con- 
 tinue for the term of eight years ; and, though here removed 
 from their immediate conti'oul and inspection, they are still 
 under their parental protection. If the family, in which an 
 Orphan is placed, is unsuitable, either by reason of improper 
 management, or ill usage, the Trustees will remove the girl 
 to a proper situation, till the completion of her probatory term. 
 During this period of her service, the providence of the insti- 
 tution still hovers over her. Sensations of gratitude prompt 
 her to obedience. Reared to be respected, and to be loved, 
 She, in return, respects her liberal superiours, and loves those 
 
348 COMMUNICATION ON THE 
 
 principles, by which she has been protected. Familiar with 
 the duties of domestick scenes, she becomes an important 
 character in society ; and having been herself the foster-child 
 of humanity, she associates the ideas of charity and of duty : 
 and is taught to consider social life, as a supplement to the 
 degrees of consanguinity, designed to connect those by the 
 kindred of virtue, whom nature has separated. Abandoned 
 by unfeeling wealth, she might have sunk under the contempt 
 of neglect, and, by a sort of moral retaliation, retorted upon that 
 stern world the only punishment, left in the revenge of female 
 misery, a career of vice and infamy ! But now adopted by one 
 sex, respected by the other, aloof from the persecution of scorn, 
 and lifted into character by the animations of benevolence, she 
 repays the debt of gratitude, she contracted in her infancy, by 
 a life of virtue and usefulness. Gentlemen, who are heads of 
 families, will, I a.m sure, give weight to these reflections. The 
 morals of that class of females, who are commonly employed 
 in the Service of families, are of the highest importance to 
 society. From their domestick situation, their manners are 
 of greater moment, than the value of their capacity. No com- 
 plaint is at present more general, or more lamentable, than 
 the outcry against the profligacy and ignorance of female ser- 
 vants. This is truly to be regretted. The link, which con- 
 nects the master and the servant, is one of the strongest bonds 
 of society. Reward and gentleness on the one part, attach- 
 ment and service on the other, are correlative terms. But the 
 Telation itself scarcely now exists in our country. Establish 
 the " Female Asylum," on its contemplated plan, and the 
 
BOSTON FEMALE ASYLUM. 349 
 
 chasm in the social connexion is filled up. Females in that 
 order of life will be entitled to our respect ; and female ser- 
 vice, instead of being, as it now is, an appellation of disgrace, 
 will become a badge of honourable distinction. To effect this 
 fair, and desirable purpose, the erection of an Orphan House, 
 is indispensably essential. The obvious necessity of it needs 
 no argument to advocate it in the mind of the humane. 
 Even if its sole and ultimate object was the protection and 
 shelter of these unhappy and deserted children, from the 
 inclemency of the elements, or the biting blasts of misery, 
 what heart can resist the application ? How often has the man 
 of wealth, with aching pity, beheld the weeping, houseless 
 one, wandering through the deep severity of winter, shivering 
 in rags and penury, to beg the refuse morsel, or the cast off 
 garment ? How oft has the man of sensibility exclaimed, 
 " Mine enemy's dog, even if he had bitten me, should sleep 
 by my fire side, on such a day as this." The erection of such 
 an edifice combines every motive, either moral or humane, 
 which compels human action. To the Philosopher, who 
 stands msulated from society, and views man in the bustle of 
 life,likeamoat upon a whirlwind, the slave of accident, derive 
 ing his course from the current, in which he swims ; even to 
 this stern and stoical observer the petition of these Orphans 
 has a charm, which can melt the austerity of his Avisdom. 
 For though he may not expect benefit to himself from the 
 relief of these innocents, he yet will like to make an experi- 
 ment upon his own heart, by a practical application of one of 
 his favourite apothegms, 
 
 " Twere good to do so much for chai-ity." 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 The following critiques were published, from time to time, during 
 the winter of 1808, in a weekly miscellany, called the Times ; 
 they were there printed in numbers, under the name of the 
 "Theatre." 
 
 "Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice," 
 
 A HE interesting Drama of " Adrian and Orilla," has been 
 performed thrice in succession, with correctness, ability and 
 applause. It is a Play formed on the German model, and 
 abounds with poetick description ; yet it is enlivened by occa- 
 sional coruscations of wit, and addressed to the feelings by 
 many masterly touches of nature. 
 
 Of the respective performers we do not pretend to offer a 
 minute examination ; but so strongly impressed are we with 
 the uncommon accuracy and force of the representation,that we 
 are willmg to subscribe, without cynical deduction, to the merit 
 of most of the principal agents in the scene. Verbal criticism 
 is extremely useful to the stage, in correcting the vices gf 
 45 
 
354 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 pronunciation, or the errors of emphasis ; but in this extraor- 
 dinary instance of excellency, 
 
 " We can't catch words, — and pity those who can !" 
 
 In such cases, where the examples, of mei'it or defect, are 
 general, one comment, Avell defined, is fully as competent to 
 the just purposes of praise or censure, as an elaborate disser- 
 tation on points of effect, which the author never conceived, or 
 a stop-watch lecture, from the doctrine of pauses, on the dif- 
 ference between a comma and a colon, which many of the 
 performers do not understand ! Our remarks, therefore, shall 
 be composed of extracts fix)m the " brief chronicles" of criti« 
 cism. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley's performance of " Orilla," exhibited new and 
 almost unexpected proofs of the diversity as well, as power 
 of her genius. In courtly or arch Comedy, where taste 
 requires elegance of dress, language and deportment, and wit 
 needs a skilful archer to give wing and direction to her 
 arrows, the palm of preeminence has long been conceded to 
 her by the general consent of all critical or fashionable tribu- 
 nals. But in " Orilla," she combined such expressive sim- 
 plicity with such well-delineated tenderness, that we could 
 not but feel the conviction, produced by her loveliness and 
 interest in the character, that she could never fail to excel in 
 all tragick personations of love or sympathy, in which the 
 picture is drawn from existing images ; or rather, in which 
 nature is permitted to walk the stage in her own decent and 
 graceful apparel, untortured by the bodices of folly, or the 
 Stilts of declamation I It is in point to add, that, in London, her 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS- ^55 
 
 " Juliet," and " Cordelia," were Considered good specimens 
 of this species of tragick excellence. 
 
 Mrs. Powell has not, within our recollection, claimed so 
 high a rank in her profession, as in " Madame Clermont." 
 No character could be better adapted to her powers, and in 
 none has she ever appeared with more commanding or endear- 
 ing influence. We cannot bestow a more unequivocal proof of 
 our admiration, than by acknowledging, that the denouement 
 of the Play owed its interest and impression to her exertions. 
 
 Mrs. Shaw gave the prattle and the pride, the jibes and 
 the jeers, of the vain, talkative " Githia," with great vivacity 
 and effect. 
 
 Mr. Caulfield gratified our wishes, and exceeded our hopes. 
 We never doubted his conception or his energy ; and, on this 
 occasion, we make a most courtly bow to his memory ! But, 
 •without reverting to those lapses of retention or defects of 
 study, which have sometimes obscured his fame, we are now 
 willing to tender him our respect and praise. 
 
 Of the " Count Rosenheim," by Mr. Usher, we shall not 
 retail the censures we every where heard ; but shall beg him 
 to reconsider the part ; for, at present, his conception is as 
 much out of character, as his dress. Neither of them came' 
 from the Count of Saxony ! 
 
 Mr. Fox's " Adrian" had more of passion, than distinc- 
 tion. It is his common fault to blaze, without directing his 
 fire. Yet, as there are some beings in the theatre, and sono- 
 rous ones too, who cannot kindle upon any occasion, we con- 
 fess we are delighted with a scenick explosion, even if it have 
 
356 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 no other object, than the emancipation of fixed air ! But, with- 
 out a jest, or what is more, without chymistry, (for even her 
 power has nothing to do with such volatile particles, as escape 
 from analysis,) we candidly allow, that Mr. Fox in one or 
 two scenes, deserved high credit for his spirited execution. 
 Yet it is to be regretted, that his glow of sentiment, and pitch 
 of intonation had no variety. Fiery and unaccommodating, 
 his enthusiasm perceived no diversity in the situations and 
 characters, with which it was concerned. He breathed love, 
 and blustered heroicks, in the same tyrannick style ; and, 
 " Void of distinction, marked all scenes the same." 
 
 We are tempted to depart from our rule of general obser- 
 vation, by an instance of the nicest discrimination, we ever 
 witnessed on our stage. It occurred in the scene between 
 " Orilla" and her father, in the second act, when he insists on 
 her marriage with " Altenburgh." To ascertain the beauty 
 of a particular touch in a picture, its relation to the whole 
 should be considered. At her first interview with the Prince, 
 in reply to her father's praises of him, she says, " You fire- 
 pared me, Sir, to admire, resfiect, and love him" 
 
 " Alt. To LOVE me Orilla ! 
 
 " Orilla. (with simplicity^ Yes, like a second father !" 
 
 In the ensuing scene, a delicate relation is had to this expres- 
 sion of her filial affection to the Prince, in contradiction to that 
 sexual passion, which is the source of the nuptial union. : 
 
 " Rosen. The Prince Altenburgh destines Yoii to become 
 his tvife. 
 
 " Orilla. Father ! 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 357" 
 
 « Rosen. Nay, I am not jesting ; on my life *tis true. 
 
 " Orilla. Oh ! Sir, spare me, forgive me ; but indeed, I 
 cannot— '»zarrj/—Altenburgh." 
 
 We have never known an example of more correct empha- 
 sis. The nature of her esteem for the Prince is distinctly 
 illustrated according to the true sense of the author. We 
 should not have remarked this, but that such delicate traces 
 of excellence are too minute for common observation. 
 
 " Non seipsum, sed vitia ejus excidit." 
 
 X. HE spritely, entertaining, and epigrammatick comedy of 
 " Rule a Wife and have a Wife," has kept a distinguished and 
 honourable possession of the English stage, through many 
 successions of taste, revolutions of fashion, and generations of 
 wit. It is the joint production of Beaumont and Fletcher, who, 
 as in their lives and affections they were inseparable compan- 
 ions and inviolable friends, have been, in their works, veiy 
 justly denominated the Orestes and Pylades of the poetick 
 world. The conduct of the plot is most industriously busy ; 
 the features of the characters are well diversified and defined ; 
 and the colours of the colloquy are strikingly adapted to the 
 design of the sketch, and, tempered with the correcting dilu- 
 tions of Garrick, sufficiently chaste. This play, therefore. 
 
358 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 though venerable in its renown, is even young in its effect, on 
 the stage ; Decies rejietita filacebit. 
 
 Tobin,one of the few legitimate and masculine writers for the 
 modern drama, one of the few unyielding minds, that have 
 resisted the meretricious innovations of a corrupt, though 
 pampered taste, has unquestionably copied from our authors 
 the model of his style, tliough he has borrowed the essence of 
 many of his principle characters from Shakespeare. 
 
 The performance of this comedy on Wednesday evening, 
 was attended with the high expectation of the whole coterie 
 of letters and taste, not only from its intrinsick merit, but 
 peculiarly from the imcommon power of talent, which was 
 enlisted to support its representation. 
 
 Mr. Cooper, as " Leon," has always been a very prominent 
 figure in the piece. The character has various attitudes of 
 life, and modes of deportment ; all of which, though equally 
 natural, must still be moulded and finished by the exactest 
 rules of technical skill. Hence arises the difficulty of the 
 portraiture ; for it is the perfection of art to conceal art. The 
 praise, then, is of no mean distinction, when we add, that his 
 strict preservation of the scene eminently assisted his contrast 
 of personation. In the first temporary instant of self-re- 
 assumption to "Althea," he commanded a burst of applause 
 from the suddenness and integrity of the transition ; and when, 
 after his marriage with " Margaretta," upon tlie arrival of the 
 intriguing Duke, he entirely " threw his cloud off," the dig- 
 nified manhood, mingled with the imposing gentleness of his 
 manner, might very naturally over-awe the noble conspirator' 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 359 
 
 against his family honour, while it confounded the contriving 
 forecast of the " little piece of mischief," he had espoused. 
 The judicious and opportune gradations, by which he ascend- 
 ed to this open assertion of his marital rights, had given a 
 previous but faint dawn of the man. The mist of concealment 
 had begun to break away in the preceding scene. 
 
 " I am your husband ; 
 
 But what are husbands ? Read the new world's wonders, 
 And you shall scarce find such dtformities. 
 They're shadoivs to conceal your -venial virtues ; 
 Sails to your mills^ that grind on all occasions ; 
 Balls., that lie by you, to wash out your stains." 
 
 But, 
 
 " I've done, madam ; 
 
 An ox once sfioke, as learned men deliver," &c. 
 
 Upon the last line, he fell back again into his former rus- 
 ticity of manner and vacuity of mind : for the moment, tlie 
 plot glimmered, but was suddenly hooded again. This was 
 a delicate, characteristick stroke of the pencil, which evinced 
 the perfect knowledge of the art. 
 
 In reply to " Margaretta," " Why, whereas the dinner .?'* 
 " Leon," entering in his entire metamorphosis of dress and 
 deportment, answers in the firm and collected tone of a gen= 
 tleman : 
 
 " 'Tis not ready, madana; 
 
 Nor shall, until / know the guests too ; 
 
 Kor are they fairly welcome, 'till /bid them." 
 
360 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 The illusion of the well dissembled clown was entirely van- 
 ished, without leaving behind one posthumous trait ; and 
 the figure of the 
 
 « Understanding, feeling man, 
 
 Who, sensible of what a woman aims at. 
 Dared stand upon the ground of his own honour," 
 was not only depicted, but embodied before us. His discrim- 
 ination and elocution, throughout this whole scene, was of the 
 first taste and impression. The speech : 
 
 " i/e, who dares strike against the hnsh^nd's freedom, 
 The husband's cu7-se stick to him," Sec. 
 
 was delivered with that boldness of sentiment and truth 
 of feeling, which left the impetuous duke very little 
 appetite to " fall on," when invited by " I'm ready to oppose 
 ye."- 
 
 We might proceed to transcribe many passages of parallel 
 excellence. One instance more shall suffice. When " Juan" 
 discloses to him the last artifice of the duke : 
 
 « That same scratch 
 
 On's hand, he took, to colour all, and draw compassion. 
 That he might get into your house more cunningly," 
 he instantly replies with a generous glow of feeling, 
 
 " I thank ye, noble colonol ; and I honour ye." 
 The sensibility of the audience was strongly excited. 
 
 We are aware that criticism has little zest for the fastidious 
 palate, unless some imperfections, apparent or imaginary, are 
 either detected or invented. But, if we were disposed to 
 enact words, to I'efine on the inflexions of the voice, or weigh 
 
THEATRICAL CrJTiCISMS 36i 
 
 t)Ut the true avoirdupois of emphasis, we think, without elab" 
 orate research, we should not lack for ingenuity to seize some 
 few moments, in which Mr. Cooper would be caught tripping. 
 But his occasional lapses, in this cliaracter, have not substance 
 for serious accusation. The general complexion of his acting 
 is engrained with more of nature, and less of the schools, than 
 most of his contemporaries ; for, though he is well disciplined 
 in the " artifice of speech," it is his second ambition to be 
 laboriously correct, when passion stimulates the bounding 
 nerve to ovei^leap the dogmas of pedantry. The high supre- 
 macy of description over narration, constitutes, says Lord 
 Kaims, the pre-eminence of Shakespeare over Corneille and 
 Racine. The difference is that of history and life. The mind 
 pays homage to chronicles, but the eye is enraptured with 
 pictures. The canvass breathes, while the parchment only 
 records. Quintilian was classically copious in learning and 
 elegance ; but Longinus kindled the lore of erudition by the 
 fire of genius. 
 
 "And was, himself, the great sublime, he drew." 
 
 The space, we have assigned to " Leon," must necessarily 
 limit our remarks on the other persons of the drama. 
 
 We are among the number of those, who are peculiarly 
 gratified by the visit, which Mr. Harwood has paid to our 
 boards. Proud of the liberal spirit of our theatre, which has 
 courted the approach of genius, we trust that, in future, the 
 interchange of meritorious performers will indulge the hopes 
 of customiiry expectation. This courtesy is highly honourable 
 to the profession, and it can never be so " honoured in the 
 
362 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 breach, as in the observance." Managers and performers should 
 ponder on their common interest ; all are raised and rewarded 
 by the respect paid to excellence ; for the whole family of 
 talent has but one origin, and the ties of affinity should be 
 every where felt and regarded. 
 
 " Michael Perez" was pourtrayed, by Mr. Harwood, with 
 more justness of conception, and spirit of execution, than 
 fidelity to his author. Some of his touches were remarkably 
 happy ; while, in other instances, he seemed to want that ease 
 of recollection, which the volatile humour of the character 
 required to give it efficiency. Many passages, however, might 
 be easily selected, in which his comick power was vividly 
 displayed. His outline did not want force, nor his coloure 
 harmony ; but, from brevity of study, some of his moments 
 were unfinished. Of his scenes, that in the fourth act, with 
 " Estifania" had the best design and most striking relief. In- 
 deed, we can recommend the whole of this piquant, tricksy 
 rencontre, given and retorted as it was on both sides, as an 
 example, rarely instanced, of good modern acting, arrayed 
 in the guise of old English wit and repartee. 
 
 From many singular instances of comick expression we 
 would chuse, as a specimen, the speech to " Leon" in reply 
 to his challenge : 
 
 " He has h&M persuaded me, I was bred in the moon j 
 Will ye walk out^ Sir ? 
 
 And if I do not beat thee, presently, ^ 
 
 Into a sound belief, as sense can give thecj^ 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 363 
 
 Brick me into that wall^ there, for a chimney piece, 
 
 And say, I Avas one of the Cesars, done by a seal cutter" 
 
 If he had any prevailing defect, it was an overcrowded pre- 
 cipitation of delivery. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley's " Estifania" added a new sprig of bay to 
 her chaplet of comick renown. In higher walks of comedy, 
 her " Lady Teazle," and " Violante," had displayed examples 
 of courtly elegance and versatile vivacity, to which no other 
 votary of Thalia had aspired on the American stage ; while 
 her " Rosalind" for the playfulness of its wit, claimed the 
 same unprecedented rank, which was assigned to her " Portia," 
 for its graceful and classick elocution. But " Estifania" is 
 an arch, wheedling soubrette, a very I'ogue at heart, with a 
 tongue of oil and pepper, a chambermaid, with the address 
 of a courtier, and the head of a priine minister, a lady of no 
 origin, but her wit, with no more gowns, than her flaunting 
 mistress had cast off, yet with as many tricks as a roving 
 captain, " in the full meridian of his wisdom," could put on ! 
 In this subtle character, the ever shifting compound of con- 
 trivance and repartee, Mrs. Oldfield and Mrs. Abbington 
 have been, at different periods of the last century, eminently 
 successful ; and Mrs. Stanley at the present day is, we think, 
 the lawful heir of their honours. To follow her through the 
 part, with a minute description of her diversity of action and 
 peculiarity of conveyance, would be a task of too great an 
 extent for this paper ; for the colours of this sarcastick, plot- 
 ling character are always seen in constant variation, and evel^ 
 
364 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 sparkling in a new direction. A few quotations will suffice 
 to illustrate the maturity of her conception, and the point of 
 her manner. 
 
 " Perez. My Estifania, shall we to dinner, lamb I 
 I know thou siay'st for me. 
 ^'■Estif. (ivith 'Wheedling fondness ) I cannot eat else. 
 
 Again, (with unconcerned simfilicitij :) 
 
 '■^Estif. We must yield our house unto her for four days. 
 
 ^'■Perez. Aye — if easily it would come back ? 
 
 ^^Estif. I swear, Sir, as easily, as it came on ; 
 You give atvay no house 1" 
 
 Her utterance of the last line conveyed very insidiously 
 and forcibly to the audience, though unperceived by Perez, 
 the latent double meaning of the author. The arch impostor 
 was laughing at the cozened captain through the thin veil of 
 the equivocal sense. In the same scene, 
 
 " Pray ye walk by and say nothing ; 
 
 Only salute them ; and leave the rest to me. 
 I was born to make ye a man !" 
 
 Perez replies with truth " the witty rogue speaks heartily.'^ 
 
 The same crafty expression and cajoling leer appeared 
 in the following passage : 
 
 ^^ Perez. Pray ye take heed unto \\xq furniture^ 
 None be embezzled. 
 
 ^^Estif. ^ot a PIN, I warrant ye." 
 
 This reply was instant, and was made with the important 
 look of a careful housewife. The subtilty and security of her 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 365 
 
 deception, throughout these two acts, were expressed with 
 fine comick pungency. 
 
 The whole scene in the fourth act, we have before remarked, 
 was most highly finished. The humour and retort of the dia- 
 logue were in constant motion, and addressed with well-aimed 
 activity. We need not go into recital, except in one instance, 
 in which, the effect of the vis comica had a subtlety of opera- 
 tion, which eludes description : 
 
 tiPcrez. Why, am I cozened ? 
 
 ^^Estif. Why, am I abused ? 
 
 '■'■Perez. Thou most vile, base, abominable— 
 
 ^^Estif. Cafitain ! 
 
 ^^Perez. Thou incorrigible — ■ 
 
 ^^Estif. Captain! 
 
 ^'■Perez. Do you echo me ? 
 
 ^'■Estif. Yes, Sir, and go before ye too,and round about ye" &c. 
 
 Her shi'ewd, biting caution to "Cacofogo," has the features 
 of the same family of sarcasm : 
 
 "All secrecy she would desire,— she told me, 
 How — WISE— z/oM are J" 
 
 We observed a deviation of memory in one speech, which, 
 however, was too promptly supplied to affect the sense or 
 spirit of the scene. The incident of the pistol was very 
 ingeniously managed, and bore its expected proportion of 
 merit to the other parts of the character. With the review 
 of these three personages, the labour of criticism ends in this 
 play. 
 
366 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 * "In angustiis amicus." 
 
 The desertion of the Drama by its former friends, during 
 the greater portion of the present season, will never induce 
 us, on perceiving this " rub in its fortunes," to abandon its 
 cause to the caprice of the unlettered, or the folly of the fash- 
 ionable ; nor to commit its destiny to the perversity of party, 
 the altivolancy of tumblers, or the eloquence of ventriloquism. 
 We are deeply impressed vi^ith the belief, that the theatre is 
 highly important to society, as a great publick school, in which 
 all classes may assemble, to acquire mutual respect from 
 examples of good breedmg, to cultivate morality fi-om the 
 delineations of life, to enliven social humour from the vivacity 
 of fiction, and to imbibe correct ideas of classick reading and 
 of our native tongue from striking instances, however rare, 
 of the force of elocution and purity of pronunciation. That 
 many of these valuable purposes of the Drama have lately 
 been obscured, in the mist of infatuation, even from the view 
 of those, whose refinement ought to have seen and appreci- 
 ated them, cannot be denied with truth, nor confessed without 
 a blush. But 
 
 " Wit cannot fall so fast, as folly rises ; 
 
 Witness the Circus ; filled at double prices 1 
 
 While Fashion, bright and short-lived, as the rocket. 
 
 Flies to hear children squeal in Rannie's pocket ; 
 
 Spurning wliat Shakespeare wrote, and Garrick played, 
 
 It crowds to see a Mameluke parade ; 
 
 And shoutSj when le Vanqueure drinks lemonade !" 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 367 
 
 The perfoi'mance of Shakespeare's historical play of Henry- 
 fourth, on Wednesday evening, excited critical expectation, 
 and attracted a numerous audience, as well from its numbei*- 
 less beauties, which " custom cannot stale," as from the 
 extraordinary combination of talent in the personation of 
 " Hotspur," and " Falstaff." This play, ever since its first 
 production in 1598, has uniformly been considered as a mas- 
 terpiece of the dramatick art, in that species of writing, which, 
 from its commixture of tragedy and comedy, requires the most 
 skilful management in the necessary inter vol vement of plot, in 
 the preservation of a regular action, in rendering the episodes 
 subservient to the main purpose of tlie fable, and in exhibiting 
 by a judicious and successive contrast, the most peculiar atti- 
 tudes and prominent features of the opposite orders of beings, 
 whom it represents. It may be added, that this play, in that 
 perpetual progression of the action, which results from an inge- 
 nious congruity in the double plot, is inferiour only to the 
 " Merchant of Venice," which, for this singular beauty of 
 dramatick construction, has stood unrivalled for more, than two 
 centuries. Dryden aimed at the model of this great original, 
 in his " Spanish Fryar ;" but no critick has ever allowed his 
 claim to competition. 
 
 Of the performance of this play we are not at leisure to 
 prepare an elaborate analysis. But although our remarks, 
 from their necessary brevity and general description, may lack 
 of critical estimation, we shall endeavour to pay the debt of 
 courtesy, so decidedly due to "Hotspur" and "Lean Jack." 
 
368 THEATRICAL CTlITirTSMS. 
 
 " Harry Percy," if we may credit the ■jiicls:raer(t of some 
 observers, did not rise to the level of Mr. Cooper's general 
 merit; although it is allowed to have ou stripped all his pre- 
 decessors in the part. This decision, like most others of the 
 same stamp, is too general to be correct, and too dogmatick 
 to be respected. In our opinion, after a long and impartial 
 debate between the claims of his representation and that of 
 others, " seeing what we have, seen — seeing what we saw"—' 
 and after comparing his ima^e of the character with the 
 descri/ition of his author, the " Hotspur" of Mr. Cooper, 
 though not equal in all the parts of its configuration, was 
 remarkably definite and bold in the outline of its conception, 
 and was very frequently produced in high relief by exquisite 
 touches of characteristick execution. The indignant spirit 
 that could not cower to insu't, the proud honour of old Eng- 
 lish nobility, emblazoned with the trophies of fame, yet sullied 
 with the rashness of courage ; the impetuous and unpaltering 
 avowal of his adherence to the unfortunate Mortimer, and the 
 ambitiovis visions of the aspiring rebel, goaded by royal ingrat- 
 itude, and writhing at the touch of disgrace ; were all strikingly 
 disposed in the character, and embodied in the fore-ground 
 of the picture. His excellence was generally that of Hotspur 
 himself; of so rapid a march, that we have no time to trans- 
 fuse his manner into a quotation. 
 
 Some passages, however, from their universal impression, 
 it will require no extraordinary critical acuteness to aclcct. 
 The speech. 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 369 
 
 « I do remember when the fight was done" he. &c. was 
 littered with Percy's fire, du-ected by the most accurate dis- 
 crimination. And we cite as another example of the higher 
 flights of scenick delineation : 
 
 " Methinks it were an easy leap, 
 
 To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon." &c. 
 
 Instances might be multiplied, such as his testy mortifica- 
 tion and resentment at the revolt of some of his " crafty-sick" 
 friends, Sec. to support the general position, on which we have 
 rested our decision. But enough has been said. One fault 
 was occasionally conspicuous, which we had not expected of 
 Mr. Cooper. " In the tempest of passion," he did not always 
 *' bcgeta tem]^erance of speech." Hotspur is mad with choler, 
 but his representative should not be choaked with it. Yet in 
 all other cases, which we recollect, it has been the peculiar 
 praise of Mr. Cooper to have escaped from this errour. We 
 have often thought him without a rival in all passages, in which 
 the passion of the scene requires a vehement rapidity of utter- 
 ance, united to uncommon distinctness and energy of articu- 
 lation. 
 
 In the whole gallery of Shakespeare's characters, there is no 
 comick , personage, which can break a lance with " Jack 
 Falstaff." His protuberances of wit are like his " mountain 
 of flesh." In either case, no one else can walk in his doublet 
 and hose 1 " Lear," in tragedy, is not more a chef d' xuvre^ 
 than the fat knight of Gad's hill is, in comedy. Without revert- 
 ing to any former attempts at this part, which among the best 
 actors is allowed to be a trial of skill, we shall award to Mr. 
 47 
 
3T0 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 Harwood an almost unqualified approbation ; and it is not the 
 smallest portion of his praise, that he preserved entire the vol- 
 ume of his voice amid all the inflexions and transitions of that 
 capricious modulation, which the character requires. The 
 celebrated passage, 
 
 " Do you think I did not know ye" ts'c. 
 was given with inimitable effect. With this may be ranked 
 the soliloquy on honour, and the admirable burlesque manage- 
 ment of the fight. The convulsive roar of the audience was, 
 on this occasion, a better criticism, than covild be collected 
 from the most classick notes of laborious commentators, who 
 ■might, as usual, 
 
 " O'er Shakespeare's page their poring vigils Iceep, 
 To catch at words, and, catching, fall asleep." 
 The other parts were not recommended to notice by ariy 
 distinction of merit. 
 
 ^' I will be treble-sinewed, hearted, breathed. 
 
 And fight maliciously; and in that mood. 
 
 The dove will peck the estridge ; there is hope in't yet ; 
 
 I and my sword will earn our chronicle.*' 
 
 J. HE tragedy of " Venus Preserved," though its beauties 
 have become trite and its attraction diminished by repetition, 
 was performed on Wednesday evening, to an audience not 
 only numerous and fashionable, but certainly the most critical, 
 wliich, within our recollection, has ever been assembled withia 
 the walls of the theatre. 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S71 
 
 This, we believe, was produced by an unexampled concur- 
 rence of individual effort; an unprecedented emulation of 
 talent, to rendpo^tie efficiency and justice to one of the bi'ightest 
 poetick ornaments of the English drama. We are not, how- 
 ever, on this account, inclined to relax our judgment to the 
 extravagance of eulogy, nor to submit its reins to the prede- 
 lection of opinion. We are well aware, that when criticks 
 feed on party, 
 
 " They eat the sword, they fight with." 
 
 The plot of " Venice Preserved," is borrowed from the 
 Abbe de St. Rael's ^'•Histoire de la conjuration de Marquis 
 Bedetnar" which relates the circumstances of the Spanish 
 conspiracy at Venice. This author is called, by Voltaire, 
 the French Sallust ; and some of the speeches of " Renault" 
 to the conspirators are as correctly copied from the Abbe, as 
 any one of Shakespeare's " Volumnia" is from North's Plu- 
 tarch, or of his "Queen Catharine" from Hollinshed. It is 
 remarkable, that, though this play has been, for nearly one 
 hundred and thirty years, a distinguished favourite of the 
 publick, from its interesting incidents and affecting catastrophe, 
 it has been always justly reproached with the charge that 
 it does not contain one "truly valuable character, except 
 Belvidera," and even she is not faultless ! Yet such is the 
 power of genius to give immortality to its own works, that 
 this dramatick poem will probably be coeval with the English 
 tongue ; and, still blooming in its fame, unwithered in its 
 attraction, by all the blighting cavils of criticism, will continue 
 to convey, to successive generations, the strong and varying 
 
S72 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 impulses of human passion, whether corrupted by ambition, 
 seduced by sensibility, or disgraced by shame, while revenge, 
 and love, and contrition, alternately fill, and at^'j-gj^te, and shrowd 
 the theatre of the human mind. 
 
 To the performance of this play the motto, we have select- 
 ed, has a pointed reference. That the emanations of talent 
 are brightened by competition, who will deny ? and, on this 
 evening, after witnessing probably the best representation 
 ever seen in America, the universal suffrage gave due token 
 of the impression, it had made. 
 
 Messrs. Cooper and Fennell were the rival candidates for 
 the wreath of Thespian victory ; and the combined effect of 
 their talents was very powerfully assisted by the " Belvidera" 
 of Mrs. Stanley. In this, as in all contentions of a similar 
 nature, the spirit of party was on the alert ; a divided senti- 
 ment prevailed which was wholly repugnant to impartiality of 
 judgment ; the " Tros Rotulusve" was alone considered ; 
 and the applause, as it was more frequent and boisterous, than 
 a strict sobriety of taste could warrant, was also as often lav- 
 ished from courtesy, and misplaced from folly, as educed by 
 excellence, and awai'ded by justice. Every artifice of the 
 stage was rounded with a peal of raptui^e. Mr. Cooper could 
 not swell his fine melodious voice to the " top of its compass," 
 ■without a responsive thunder from the house ; nor could Mr. 
 Fennell extend his " many a rood of limb," in two gigantick 
 strides from one stage door to the other, but the most learned 
 "million" beat their palms with ecstacy and exclaimed, 
 «« Whaf an admirable reader i" We have not indulged tliis 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS;> 37a 
 
 vein of sarcasm to ridicule the exertion of eminent talents, 
 which has so justly "earned its chronicle ;" but to expose 
 to merited contempt that fashionable affectation, that 
 most excellent foppery of taste, which has of late usurped the 
 balance and the rod of criticism, among our full grown babes 
 ©f learning, who have suddenly become commentators on 
 playing, by going to school at thirty to learn their mother 
 tongue ; and have formed an intimate acquaintance with au- 
 thors, by spelling their names on labels at the backs of their 
 volumes ! Without knowing the distinction in terms between 
 pi'onunciation, emphasis and reflexion, yet with the aid of a 
 little effrontery in a side box, and a well-committed rosary of 
 words, which they use in succession without choice or con- 
 nexion, they acquire a frothy reputation for classical wisdom, 
 which at once gives tone and circulation to their opinions, 
 tliroughout the wide range of the shallow profundity of polite 
 life ! What a facility of literary education ! Why it were a 
 device worth the experiment, if a patent might be obtained 
 for it ; the market women in the publick streets of Athens 
 repeated lines from Homer, while they sold apples and filberts ; 
 then wherefore should not the discipline of a tailor and a frizeur 
 make as good a commentator of a beau, as the perusal of 
 Malone, Johnson or Walker ! This process too would pre- 
 vent a great many fruitless head aches, would keep down the 
 price of calf skin, and would save the expense and trouble of 
 learning to read ! What a crop of connoisseurs should we 
 have ; they would grow up, like the dragon's teeth, and de- 
 stroy themselves for the amusement of their wits 1 This then 
 
S/4 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 will be the very millenium of letters, when taste shall be re- 
 duced under the dommion of fashion, and 
 
 " The fop, the flirt, the pedant, and the dunce. 
 Start up, (God bless us !) criticks all at once !" 
 
 From this little episode of pleasantry, in which we have 
 sported rather freely with the frivolous importance of our 
 new race of theatrical virtuosos, we return to the more con- 
 genial and gratifying task of rendering to genius the due 
 reward of its exertions. 
 
 Of the professional contest, between Mr. Cooper and Mr. 
 Fennell, we shall not, upon the brief survey of one evening's 
 exhibition, pronounce an opinion, which shall decisively award 
 to either the palm of pi^e-eminence. We might easily run a 
 parallel between their respective claims and properties. In 
 the natural gifts and requisites of an actor, Mr. Cooper has 
 never had a competitor on the American stage ; and in good 
 sooth it must be said, that " speech famed" Fennell has gath- 
 ered much lore at the feet of Cratippus. But general conclu- 
 sions conduce nothing to critical information. Whichever 
 scale may preponderate, either of the combatants may retort 
 on the other, in the words of Ajax : 
 
 "Ipse tulit pretium jam nunc certamlnis hujus. 
 Qui, cum victus erit, Mecum certasse feretur !" 
 
 As there are two other nights, in which their prowess in, 
 dramatick chivalry, is to be exercised, we shall withold our 
 examen of their respective beauties and defects, both in elocu- 
 tion and in action, until the lists shall be closed. One re- 
 mark we shall now make, that Mr. Fennell, who prides him- 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 575 
 
 $elf on his scholastick " vis et venustas et ordo verborum,'* 
 acquired on this occasion no distinction beyond his antagonist, 
 in the severer graces of eloquence ; although, in some brilliant 
 moments of personation, he w^ent beyond any former effort of 
 his own. It should be recollected, that he had to contend 
 against many glaring natural disabilities for the character of a 
 dramatick lover ; a voice, obstinately sepulchral, a face, in- 
 capable of the lineaments of tenderness, a ponderous and 
 overvirhelming gesticulation, and an awkward majesty and 
 indecision of movement ; the whole exhibiting rather a false 
 fulness, than a definite expression of sentiment. Yet, against 
 all this host of incapacity, his ambition bore up its beaver 
 proudly ; and relying on his genei-al knowledge of poetick 
 effect on human passions, and his unwavering consciousness 
 of his own classick maturity of speech and conception, he 
 struck out many sparks of excellence, and stole many touches 
 from nature ; and in the general award, gathered with an un^ 
 resisted hand, some luxuriant leaves of bay, which will long 
 be green, as amaranth, from the tears of sensibility, with which 
 they were bedewed. With this tribute, however, we must 
 mingle the reproof of some passages of misre citation, for 
 which Mr. Fennell has no right to expect any indulgence, 
 and which, therefore, a future number will expose. 
 
 We feel a reluctance to speak of Mr. Cooper's " Pierre," 
 in contrast to Mr. Fennell's " Jaffier," fi'om this very suf- 
 ficient reason, that, in this disposition of the paits, nature has 
 pronounced her inhibition against the one, and has given her 
 amplest commission to the other. Every actor has peculiar 
 
376 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 habitudes of gesticulation, speech and expression ; in all these, 
 Cooper is moulded and fashioned into " Pierre ;" and beyond 
 these, which ai'e great and striking endowments, he is emi- 
 nently happy in transfusing the soul of his author into the 
 character of his action. We do not believe this bold, ingen- 
 uous, generous, affectionate rebel was ever personated with 
 more propriety, fire or discrimination, on the boards of Lon- 
 don. In the scene with the conspirators, after the discovery of 
 " Renault's" letcherous breach of trust, it may be truly said, he 
 
 " Lurched all swords of the garlands'." 
 He had one errour in his speech to the senate, which we shall 
 notice in a subsequent commentary. 
 
 Mrs. Stanley's " Belvidera" was the best tragick perform- 
 ance of this lady in Boston. The beautiful poetick flight, 
 inspired by the prospective banishment and ruin of her hus- 
 band, was uttered with the most delightful chastity and ten- 
 derness. Her exit in the third act : 
 
 '''■Farewell^ remember tivelve .'" 
 w^as delivered with greater purity and impression, than by Mrs. 
 Warren ; though she shared, in common with that admired 
 performer, the censure of two misreadings in the following 
 scenes. Her greatest pi'aise, however, was, that she had evi- 
 dently benefitted by the admonitions of criticism, and, through- 
 out the whole character, confined her voice within the com- 
 pass of its own natural modulation and power. In comedy, 
 she needs no monitor. 
 
 The play altogether, was the best representation, which the 
 Boston stage has ever afforded us. 
 
Theatrical CRrricisivis, 377 
 
 * If they be free, 
 
 Why then om- taxing', like a wild goose, flies 
 Unclaimed of any man." 
 
 In this and a few subsequent numbers, we shall aim to give an 
 accurate surveyof someof the more characteristick distinctions 
 of performance in the two American competitors for the chair of 
 Rosclus. Hence we shall frame, in the spirit of impartiality, 
 attempted with what little judgment we possess, a comparative 
 estimate of their classical and professional merits. 
 
 On this subject, we shall generally premise, that Mr. Fen- 
 nell's confessed reputation, as a scholar, and as an actor, does 
 not " bear an equal yoke ;" and that Mr. Cooper is not so 
 much indebted for liis fame to the mere bounty of nature, as 
 some have been willing to imagine ; but owes to erudition the 
 establishment of that pre-eminence, which has been exclusively 
 assigned to the incidental properties of person and voice. If 
 the former may sometimes excel in arranging, in just propor- 
 tion, the lineaments of a whole character, it may with equal 
 candour and justice be allowed, that the latter seldom fails to 
 shed a superiour lustre on the execution of particular passages. 
 
 Within our recollection, the publick curiosity has not been 
 so highly excited, as by the collision of talent, which the vicis- 
 sive assumption of " Othello," and " lago," produced between 
 Mr. Cooper and Mr. Fennell. Of their respective personations 
 of each character, we do not intend to give a description at full 
 length, but we shall touch on those points in their several pic- 
 48 
 
378 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 tures, which will induce a recognition of the likeness. And 
 first of the Moor. 
 
 " The fiery openness of Othello, magnanimous, artless, and 
 credulous, boundless in his confidence, ardent in his affection, 
 inflexible in his resolution, and obdurate • in his I'evenge ;" 
 demands, perhaps, more requisites from nature, to bestow ade- 
 quate illustration on his glowing variety of character, than any 
 other heroick, personage, that " struts and frets his hour ufion 
 the stage" In physical aptitudes, Mr. Cooper had the evident 
 advantage of Mr. Fennel], yet he often untuned his voice bj' 
 violence ; while Mr. Fennell, who prefers high and honoured 
 claims to the magistracy of elocution, in some instances wan- 
 dered from the true sense and conception of his authors. 
 
 In the celebrated address to the Senate, it was apparent 
 that neither party was insensible to the spirit of emulation. As 
 this whole speech, with all its successions of dignity and pas- 
 sions, lies upon the level @f Mr. Fennell's natural power, we 
 were not surprised to find him excel Mr. Cooper in the gen- 
 eral outline of the oration. Mr. FennelFs manner was " plain 
 and unvarnished ;" and, if we except his ungi-aceful gesticula- 
 tion, was sufficiently eloquent for a man, 
 
 " rude in speech, 
 
 And little blessed with the set phrase of peace ;" 
 but the style of Mr. Cooper had too much Ciceronian refine- 
 ment, too much artificial polish, for the warriour who says of 
 himself, 
 
 " little of this great world can I speak. 
 
 And therefore little shall I grace my cause, 
 
 By speaking for my self. ^^ 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S79 
 
 Yet, however, near the climax of his story, Mr. Cooper 
 wonderfully surpassed his antagonist, by substituting an emi- 
 nent beauty of delineation, for a most strange misconception 
 of Mr. Fennell. 
 
 " She wished she had not heard it ; yet she wished 
 That heaven had made her such a man : She thanked me ; 
 And bade me, if I had a friend, that loved her, 
 I should but teach him how to tell my story, 
 And that would woo her." 
 
 This) it should be observed, is the first, timid, half-concealed 
 confession of love, on the part of " Desdemona ;" and was 
 admirably pourtrayed by Mr. Cooper, with the most expressive 
 traits of modesty and tenderness ; and yet without departing 
 from the severity of declamation. Mr. Fennell, however, ranted 
 in a tone of exultation and triumph, as it were at the success 
 of his romantick fable over the simple mind of Desdemona. 
 We cannot conceive of any representation of the passage more 
 grossly out of character. Othello breaks into no expression 
 of elevated joy, until he utters the subsequent sentence, whose 
 relative effect lost its contrast by this premature extravagance 
 of action ; and thus was weakened the impression, commonly 
 produced by the transport of " Othello," when he exclaims : 
 
 " She loved 7ne for the dangers, I had passed, 
 And J loved her, that she did pity them. 
 In the exclamatory passage, 
 
 " Silence that dreadful bell ; it frights the isle 
 From her propriety" 
 
380 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 Mr. Cooper's clear and swelling voluine of intonation had a 
 fine scope for its exercise, and it filled the house with a peal 
 of melody ; but in 
 
 " Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore ; 
 Be sure on't ; give me the occular proof," Sec. 
 he strained his voice beyond its limits, until it cracked into a 
 shrill discordance, which pained the sternest ear. Mr. Fennel! 
 in the same two passages wanted fire ; but, having a limited 
 compass and difficult modulation of voice, he was not tempted 
 to commit the ambitious fault of Mr. Cooper. If he was not 
 admired for Othello's ardour, his own deliberation guai'ded him 
 against offence, 
 
 Mr. Fennell we think adopted the preferable emphasis in 
 the following contested interjectional speech : 
 
 ^' Excellent wretch ! perdition catch my soul. 
 But I do love thee l' ' 
 
 Mr. Cooper, against the opinion of the elder Sheridan, laid 
 the stress on " love."- 
 
 Mr. Cooper was powerfully impressive in the following 
 transition oi intermingled suspicion and deprecation : 
 
 " If thou dost slander her, and torture me, 
 
 Never /zray more, Sec. &c. 
 
 ******* 
 
 For nothing canst thou to damnation aed. 
 Greater than that" 
 
 Mr. Fennell gave the same construction, but not with the 
 same boldness of execution. Indeed, throughout, Mr. Feur 
 jell's general defect was an iincharacteristick tameness. He, 
 
TFIEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 381 
 
 was too affectedly chaste', too tristfully correct. His colours 
 were sufficiently diluted for " Marcus Brutus." 
 
 In illustrating the learning of Shakespeare, or rather in 
 giving poetical effect to his images, we could discern one 
 instance in which we thought Mr. Cooper was more apt, than 
 Mr. FennelL 
 
 " If I do prove her haggard, 
 
 Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
 I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind, 
 To firey at fortune" 
 
 This is a metaphor, borrowed fi-om falcionry. " The Falconers, 
 says, Dr. Johnson, always let fly the hawk against the wind ; 
 if she flies with the wind behind her, she seldom returns. If, 
 therefore, a hawk was, for any reason, to be dismissed, she 
 was " let dotvn the wind ;" and from that time shifted for 
 herself, and ^^ preyed at fortune." This allusion, Mr. Cooper 
 strikingly exemplified, by making the word " down" emphat- 
 ick, and by a well-conceived and picturesque gesticulation. 
 But Mr. Fennell, destroyed the figure, by irrevelant gesture, 
 and by laying the emphasis on " wind." 
 
 Both were equally deficient in the necessary scenick prepv 
 aration of mind and action, to give effect, or sense to, 
 
 " It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul." 
 The actor began as abruptly, as the soliloquy ; no room was 
 given to imagine the previous perturbation and horrour of 
 Othello's mind, which though it could not be shaken by the 
 
382 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 atrocity of the crime, he was about to commit, was yet stung 
 with shame by the " cause" which led him to it. 
 To the tender expostulation of Desdemona, 
 " Am / the occasion of those tears, my Lord ? 
 
 * * ** * * ♦ * * 
 
 Lay not your blame on me ; if you have lost him, 
 
 7 have /o«? him too." 
 
 Othello makes no reply, but utters, in agonized soliloquy, the 
 
 bursting sorrows and indignant nobleness of his soul. In this 
 
 moment of the character, Mr. Cooper rose above cavil, and 
 
 defied competition : 
 
 " Had it pleased heaven 
 
 To try me with affliction ; had he rain*d 
 
 All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head ; 
 
 Steefi'd me in fioverty to the very lifis s 
 
 Given to captivity — me and my hopes ; 
 
 " I should have found, in some part of my soul, 
 
 A drofi of PATIENCE : 
 
 But there — where I had garner'd up my heart." Etc. 
 
 It may be said here of Mr Cooper, that his sensibility evi- 
 dently affected his exterior deportment. Nature spoke from 
 her " heart's core ;" and the actor's accents harmonized with 
 the most touching tones of instinctive pathos. No sophistication 
 of rhetorick could have produced the same tremblingly living 
 sensation. 
 
 In the bed-chamber scene, Mr. Fennell gave the monition to 
 Desdemona with affecting solemnity : 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 383 
 
 *^' Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by ; 
 I would not kill thy unfirefiared spirit i 
 No — heaven for ef end /—I would not A:///—- thy soul I 
 
 We were not perfectly satisfied with either of them in the 
 delivery of the following remarkable line— 
 
 " Put out the lights and then — Put out the light !" 
 This reading is obviously correct, as it intimately concatenates 
 with the reflection which follows. 
 
 In the first hemistick, we must imagine Othello wrapped 
 up in his murderous intent, speaking in a careful, yet 
 determined under tone, and striding, like a fiend, towards the 
 perpetration of his design : 
 
 " Put out the lights and then" 
 
 here, either fi-om affection combating with revenge, or con- 
 science for a moment repealing his purpose by abrupt com- 
 punction, he suddenly becomes irresolute, revolts from his 
 course, and starts into that expressive apostrophe : — 
 
 « Put OUT the light 1" 
 
 Instantly the dormant moral principle arouses, and he proceeds: 
 
 *' If I quench thee.^ thou flaming minister, 
 1 can again ihy former light restore^ 
 Should I refient me : but once^ put out thine,* — 
 Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, — ■ 
 I know not ivhere is that Promethean fire, 
 That can thy light relume." 
 
 This conception forcibly illustrates the true course of reflec- 
 tion in the strongly agitated, and half relenting mind of Othello. 
 But we saw no distinct marks of it on the stage. 
 
384. THEATRICAL CllITICISMS. 
 
 On the whole, we have foi*merly seen the performance ot 
 the same character, by the same gentlemen, marked with more 
 studious correctness, and brighter excellence. 
 
 " Quid verum atque decens, euro ; et omiiis In hoc sum. 
 
 ******* 
 
 NuUius addictus jurare in verba magistri." 
 
 J. HE character of " lago" has three aspects, which, in 
 correct representations, mark through all his varieties of 
 hypocrisy, that " cool malignity of the villain, silent in his 
 resentment, subtle in his designs, and studious at once of his 
 interest and his vengeance." To "Othello," his insinuating- 
 frankness and reluctant disclosures constantly present, by 
 fair seeming, the illusion of "exceeding honesty;" to "Roderigo" 
 he is a politician of another school, and under pretence of help- 
 ing him to the love of " Desdemona," he " makes his fool 
 his purse ;" but in his soliloquies he entirely throws off the 
 mask, and exulting in the success of the " candy deal of 
 courtesy," which he has practiced on his dupes and victims, 
 he is bold enough in crime to exclaim : 
 
 " Divinity of hell ! 
 
 When devils will the blackest sins put on. 
 They do suggest at first, with heavevly shotvs^ 
 ■As I do iioiv" 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. S85 
 
 By this delineation of the different features of " lago" it 
 will readily be perceived, that his scenick representative should 
 possess, among other requisites, a countenance of bold outline 
 and marked configuration ; capable of great complacency as 
 well, as power and flexibility of oppression ; constantly chang- 
 ing with the calculating purpose of the soul ; and exhibiting 
 in succession the secure effrontery of imposition, the knotted 
 corrugation of revenge, and the insidious protestation of friend- 
 ship. 
 
 In this definition of the pi'operties of " lago's" visage, we 
 have been the more precise, as Mr. Fennell is always sure 
 to sink, as a competitor of Cooper, in all characters, which 
 demand a definite intelligence of countenance. There is a 
 medium between vacancy and expression, which denotes mind, 
 but does not depict its conceptions ; which exhibits the mus- 
 cle, but not the feature of intellect. The " human face divine" 
 can appear to think, though it does not illustrate its thoughts. 
 In this middle state of perfection, we place the scenick ability 
 of Mr. Fennell. To his genius, learning and taste we pay 
 a willing and ample tribute ; but, if we consider the effect of 
 his talent on the senses, or, in other words, his power of organick 
 communication, we must be permitted in the confession, that 
 we doubt his capacity to make, from the stage, a deep and 
 correct impression of any passion, except that which forms 
 the leading characteristick of " Zanga." Here it must be 
 allowed, that in expressing the turbulent sense of indignity at 
 the prostration of princely honour, he displayed a bold and 
 savage majesty, in which his force of delineation for pnce 
 49 
 
386 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 ranked with his vigour of conception. This notice is awarded 
 to Mr. Fennell with a spirit of independence, which gives it 
 value ; and, we trust, with a maturity of reflection, which will 
 give it currency. Mr. Fennell has now retired from the 
 stage ; and, in his new profession, we wish he may receive 
 the patronage of the affluent, and satisfy the judgment of the 
 classical. This optative mode of expression, is not intended 
 to convey any doubts of the merits of Mr. Fennell, and recom- 
 mending, as we do, his infant institution to the protection of 
 the property and sense of the community, we shall add, in 
 the severity of truth, that if his laudable enterprise be suffered 
 to pine away amid neglected promises of heedless ignorance, 
 or forgetful grandeur, the boasted wealth and literature of our 
 metropolis, which have added so gorgeous an embellishment 
 to the habiliments of our pride, should henceforth be con- 
 demned to keep company with their owners' hearts, in the 
 dark and hermit corners of society. But to return.— The 
 petulent puerility, and bombastick nonsense of some of Mr. 
 Fennell's admirers would provoke retort, and deserve it, were 
 we not convinced that Mr. Fennell himself would most wil- 
 lingly exchange the panegyiick of such leading-string scrib- 
 blers for their abuse. Yet they all write in a most goodly 
 buckram style, and in terms of art measured by the rood ! 
 One of these sesquipedalian witlings has rifled Johnson's 
 Rambler of all its verbal invention, its flounces and furbelows 
 of style, to decorate and bedizen Mr. Fennell in his principal 
 characters. After twisting and distorting the King's English 
 into every possible agony of meaning, he invents a new term 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 587 
 
 in prosody, to make his Roscian hero take leave of the stage 
 in " valedictory verse 1" nay, more, ehetc ! Onus deflenduni ! 
 he retires " with the gratitude of his mother tongue 1" The 
 inventor of the compass, the founder of printing, or the dis- 
 coverer of the circulation of the human blood, sink at once, in 
 the scale of original genius, before this mysterious magician 
 of words, this jackalent constructor of luminous sentences, 
 whose light attracts, but never can be followed. How fugitive 
 is the bright imposture ; it flashes, and is enveloped in deeper 
 darkness from its own explosion. Dulness,, like vanity, always 
 mistakes its element. 
 
 "Optat ephippia bos piger ; optatarare caballus." 
 
 In strictness of critical justice, Mr. Fennell is as absolutely 
 amenable to the comment of the di'amatick censor, though 
 protected by the honoured title of a preceptor of elocution, 
 as the most inferiour member of the histrionick profession. Yet 
 as the severity of criticism has its only apology in the hope of 
 correction, and this salutary object can no longer be fairly 
 proposed, since his voluntary secession from the stage, we are 
 constrained, by the double tie of duty and inclination, to abstain 
 from disquisition, which can no longer be useful, and to 
 smother reproof, the candour of whose motive may now be 
 subject to question. It remains, however, to be stated, that 
 in the part of " lago" our unequivocal preference went along 
 with Mr. Cooper fier totum agmen. In correctness, or force of 
 reading, we scarcely know to whom the balance would incline. 
 But one or two diversities of emphasis occurred, and none of 
 interpretation. The differences were immaterial, and only 
 
388 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 such, as the incidental lapses of performance might occasioir.^ 
 For the distinctions were all of manner in the personation of 
 the character, in its varieties of address to the other persons 
 of the drama, with whom it was necessarily intermingled. 
 Here, indeed, the merit of the representation belongs most 
 eminently to Mr. Cooper. In the conduct of the scenes, his 
 subtle honesty to Othello, his imposing assurance to Roderigo, 
 and his deadly malignity in soliloquy, were more deeply- 
 imbued with discrimination, "form and pressure." The 
 colours were applied with a bolder pencil, and the lines were 
 traced with a stronger character. Nature has denied to Mr. 
 Fennell the use of such powerful means, as Mr. Cooper can 
 employ prodigally, without exhausting them. In the economy 
 of the stage art and situation, Mr. Cooper was wonderfully su-* 
 periour. Yet, if we drop the curtain, and consider the exhibition 
 as a mere didactick example of recitation, Mr. Fennell does 
 not halt behind his antagonist. 
 
 But this subject has lost its novelty, and of course its in- 
 terest. It is time it should be dropped. To Mr. Fennell, as 
 a learned and meritorious instructor of the rising generation, 
 we Avould say, '■'■Proceed and jirosfier ;" and to Mr. Cooper, 
 as the acknowledged Roscius of the American stage, we 
 would snatch a grace from Churchill to exclaim, 
 
 " ....Garrick, take the cliair, 
 
 Nor quit it, 'till thou place an equal there !" 
 As this is an age in which regicides prosper, the mock 
 jmonarchs of the buskin must not be surprised, if for a moment 
 we forget their kingly prerogative, and " scant our breathing 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS, 389 
 
 courtesy." If it were not high treason against taste, aye 
 "most infinite high," we would most valiantly affirm, that 
 both of these imperial dignities of noun and pronoun, had in 
 the plentitvide of their royal authority over the parts of speech, 
 most tyrannically laid an improper emphasis on an humble 
 monosyllable in one of their subject sentences ! The passage 
 may perhaps admit of a questionable reading, and compares 
 with a contested one in the " Merchant of Venice." But we 
 eondemn them both. Our first allusion is to the expression 
 of " lago," fiercely ruminating on the source of his resent- 
 ment against the Moor : 
 
 "And nothing can, or shall content my soul, 
 Till I am even with him, wife ybr wife." 
 
 We have marked the line as pronounced by Messrs. 
 Cooper and Fennell ; and although we frankly confess there 
 are instances, in which the evident sense of the author " allots 
 emphatick state" to monosyllables, y?t we cannot, with our 
 utmost ingenuity, discern the propriety of the stress in the 
 quotation. We noticed the occurrence of a similar false 
 emphasis in " Portia's" celebrated speech on mercy, which 
 we the more regretted, as Mrs. Stanley, with this exception, 
 presented to the audience, on this occasion, one of the most 
 chaste and classical specimens of declamation, we have ever 
 witnessed on the stage. Yet she erroneously uttered, 
 
 " 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest." 
 
 To be brief in our exposition of errour, we will correct both 
 readings at once. Both sentences require the greatest possi- 
 
3^0 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 ble weight and body of expression ; and this, we think, is most 
 fojcibly given by the following discrimination of voice : 
 
 " Till I am even with him, ivife — for wife." 
 So again, 
 
 « 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest." 
 
 Our judgment may be disputed, but we are confident it will 
 bear the test of critical experiment. It should be added, that 
 the rejected readings are consonant with the received modes 
 of delivery in those passages. Criticism, however, submits 
 to no prescription. Taste is truth, independent of the venera- 
 tion allowed to time, or the prejudice born of opinion. Black- 
 more was no poet, though he imitated Virgil in his hemisticks ; 
 and a village lawyer may be no orator, though he have a wart 
 on his cheek as large as two of Cicero's ! To performers of 
 real eminence, emendatory criticism is the tribute of a mind, 
 not disregardful of their excellence. That soil is not barren, 
 which is worth the labour of tillage ; and while shrubs are 
 neglected, the tree, whose beauty, thrift or fruit, most excites 
 the hopes of the horticultor, is most assiduously pruned. 
 
 •' Our scene is altered." 
 Of the celebrated historical drama, " Pizarro," which, by the 
 classick pen of Sheridan, has been adapted to the genius of 
 English representation, the publick have already acquired so 
 correct and intimate a knowledge, that to the American critick 
 it may perhaps appear a rare example of managerial Super- 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 391 
 
 erogation, to attempt to enlarge the sphere of its original 
 attraction. When it is recollected, that the impressive merits 
 of this play assembled twelve audiences during the last season, 
 and would in all probability draw as many more if represented 
 this season, it may be asked, why Mr. Whitlock, the present 
 manager, should voluntarily incur so prodigal an expense, in 
 its preparation, as the import of his publick advertisement, 
 and the suggestion of well-credited rumour, have declared ? 
 The answer is not so latent, as some may surmise. It is in 
 evidence from the manager's whole direction of the stage, 
 that he will never insult or delude the publick with an immoral 
 or imbecile play ; but his is not a negative praise ; for he has 
 also evinced, that, while he considers wit and sentiment the 
 <' lawful lords" of the drama, he has not refrained from the 
 expenses of spectacle, but has been anxious to assist the 
 charms of the Muses with appropriate decoration. The play 
 of " Pizarro" has hitherto acquired celebrity only by its own 
 intrinsick claims ; with no other aid from the pencil, than an 
 uncouth presentment of gorgeous colouring, and ill-managed 
 perspective, which, while the eye was dazzled by the splendid 
 imposture, bewildered the imagination in the search of nature 
 and reality. As one of the manifest objects of the author was 
 to render the play a vehicle of novel and magnificent scenery, 
 an opportunity was now offered to the managers to present 
 one of the most interesting dramas in the language, in a style 
 more worthy of its original design. Scenick ornament, if so 
 happily portrayed, and so scientifically arranged, as to produce 
 visual illusion, impresses the boldest similitude of life on dra- 
 
392 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 matick representation, it embcdies the conception of the 
 author, by giving to abstract sentiment " a local habitation." 
 Upon the execution of this branch of the Thespian Art will 
 very frequently depend the analogy, and sometimes the very 
 efTect, of personation. Another object of Mr. Wliitlock, and 
 which reflects as much honour on his liberality, as the first 
 does on his taste, was to open a broad field of experiment for 
 the scenick talent of Mr. Bromley, to exhibit in multifold effort 
 its various creations. Mr. Bromley is a young man from 
 Drury Lane theatre, and possesses real genius in his profes- 
 sion. To prepare the scenery for "■ Pizarro" has been the 
 labour of three months ; and, while on the one hand it is our 
 •wish to render to the manager the distinction, which he merits 
 for his publick spirit in this expensive, and, we hope not, pre- 
 carious undertaking, we think it injustice not to add, that Mr. 
 Bromley will amply deserve the praise of having furnished 
 the Boston stage with the most correct and fascinating exhibi- 
 tion, both of landscape and architecture, which its lamps ever 
 illumined. 
 
 J. HE revival of " Pizarro" in its present improved style, 
 seems not only to have increased its own attraction, but to 
 have recalled taste and fashion to the theatre. In a drama, 
 which in its original design appears to have been so much 
 devoted to the purposes of spectacle, and in the contexture of 
 
THEATPJCAL CRITICISMS. 393 
 
 whose fable is introduced so small a portion of fact, which is 
 not consistent with the chastity of history, it might have been 
 expected that the interest of the play would be weakened, if 
 not overlooked, and of course the field of impressive and bril- 
 liant acting, improperly narrowed by a cynical expression of 
 romance, or a superstitious sacrifice to scenery. Such might 
 have been the expectation ; but it is not warranted by experi- 
 ence. For though it v/ould be unjust in the highest degree to 
 the talents and industry of Mr. Bromley, not to acknowledge 
 the excellence of his exhibition, which we think was as fine a 
 coufi d' ail as the Boston theatre ever presented, yet a com- 
 ment, bearing no common import of praise, is certainly due 
 on this occasion to a considerable number of the dramatick 
 corps, who, perhaps catching fire from the sentiment of the 
 scene, with which they were connected, excelled their ordinary 
 exertions, and gave unusual effect to the representation. The 
 contrivance of the plot is so exquisitely managed that, when 
 well presented, the ingenuity of the fiction insinuates an inter- 
 est as powerful, as that of real life, because for the moment it 
 is believed, and more subtle, because it captivates by illusion. 
 Of the peculiar merits of individual performers it would be 
 improper to speak largely, without at the same time remark- 
 ing on the defects of the representation. Criticism loaths 
 indiscriminate praise as much, as she despises malignant cen- 
 sure. But thence it does not follow that the writer of eveiy 
 theatrical pai'agraph ought to notice every individual in a the- 
 atre, " from the lowest point to the top of the compass," from 
 50 
 
S94 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 the Roscius who enacts " Hamlet," down to his brother orator 
 the carpenter, who plays the " Cock." Some criticks are 
 indeed a great deal like the clerk of a militia com-pany on a 
 parade day ; their whole duty consists in calling over the mus- 
 ter roll of its members, without either examining their arms, 
 or improving their discipline. 
 
 On Mrs. Whitlock's " Elvira." we shall not remark ; for 
 the talent, whose aspect is too brilliant to be gazed at with 
 scrutiny, or whose elevation is too high for its blemishes to be 
 discerned, while it humbles envy by its distance, diminishes 
 praise by its brightness. 
 
 Mr. Rutley has many of the indispensable requisites of a 
 good actor ; and some, without which no advantages of edu- 
 cation, voice or pei'son, can ever make a great one. The 
 intonation of his voice, and the temper of his gesticulation are 
 well adapted to that province of personation, wjiich he sustains 
 in the theatre. But his distinguishing feature, and that, which 
 will always make its impression on the publick, is the spirit of 
 his conception, which combines a sensibility to the touches of 
 life as well, as a judgment in the comprehension of character, 
 without which the most boasted refinement, with all its affec- 
 tation of scholastick superiority, will find its inanimate exertions 
 lavished on an impassive publick. Mr. Rutley possesses this 
 grand quality ; and if he is sometimes misled by its enthusi- 
 asm from the natural tones of passion into those of turned 
 declamation, the errour is more venal, than the studied want; 
 of animation, the scientifick coldness, which freezes the heart 
 by its torpidity, while it delights the mind with its correctjiess. 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 39§ 
 
 We now come to Mr. Jones ; and, if we had leisure, we 
 would set down to him. In the course of the season, fair occa- 
 sion has been given to applaud this gentleman for the under- 
 standing and accomplishment, he possesses ; and, from a justi- 
 fiable delicacy, some plausible opportunities have been pre- 
 sented to reprehend peculiarities, which he has the good sense, 
 and the disposition to correct. Of " Alonzo," we shall only 
 say, we have never seen him perform any part with so much 
 spirit ; although we have never known him to fail in discrimi- 
 nation. The key of his voice is not so well adapted to the 
 monotony of phlegmatick narration, as to the variable expres- 
 sion of the passions. Mr. Jones always conceives well, but he 
 sometimes executes indifferently. Let him reflect on the 
 success of his scene with ^' Pizarro," and i-emember that tal-. 
 ^nt so exerted will be always so rewarded. 
 
 Careless to learn, who praise us, or condemn^ 
 Unswayed by partial wit, or critick phlegm. 
 We aim, ambitious, to retrieve the stage 
 From errours, which obscured its weaker age ; 
 But while we censure, or approve the scene. 
 Praise is not friendship, nor is satire spleen. 
 
 J. HE task of combining the scattered slips of theatrical excel- 
 lence is to us, we confess, a work of more pleasure, than that 
 of plucking the faded leaf, and pruning the excrescent branclv. 
 The one is the exercise df taste, the otherthe injunction of duty- 
 
396 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 During the last week, Mr. Bernard has contmued to display 
 the flexible powers of a great and discriminating actor, in 
 the presentment of " many-coloured life." One of the most 
 luminous traits of his merit is, that he marks, in his delinea- 
 tion of characters, almost homogeneous, the minutest shades, 
 in which they differ. Many comedians are too much in the 
 habit of dashing the pound brush, and all, they aim to throw 
 upon the canvass, is a dazzling confusion of the primary 
 colours, without intermixture, gradation or lineament. The 
 whole is illegitimate ; a picture without a likeness. It claims 
 affinity to nothing, but one of Caliban's dreams ; and thus, 
 having no human relations, it is not entitled to christian bap- 
 tism. Not so with the designs of Mr. Bernai'd. His, if not 
 the pencil of Titian, is at least that of Hogarth. While the 
 bolder features are expanded with prominent effect, the soft- 
 est lines of colouring and variation of conception, lines almost 
 as delicate, as the horizon, that vanishes between the sea and 
 the sky, are, in nice precision, gently touched in the correct 
 shadowings of his execution. His clowns have as many dif- 
 ferent patents of rank, as a herald's office has of the peerage : 
 and, in fact, they all seem to know their own place as well, 
 and show each other as much ceremony and respect. Being 
 all exempted from the game laws, each sports upon his own 
 manor, and holds it unworthy to poach upon that of his neigh- 
 bour. "Gregory Gubbins" can laugh " till his face be like a 
 wet cloak, ill laid up." "Caleb Wilkins" belongs to another 
 family. His head is lean and sterile, yet has he been taught 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 39f 
 
 Palstaff's " first human principle ; to forswear thin potations 
 and addict himself to Sack." The character is not a sot, but 
 his humour has a mellower tilth from having been husbanded 
 and manured by " the excellent endeavour of drinking." In 
 ^' Two Strings to your Bow," the features of comedy ai'e 
 again recomposed and re-moddled. " Lazarillo" is one of 
 the most piquant knaves in the drama. None but his cousin 
 german " Trappanti" can out-joke, out-wit, or out-eat him 1 
 Again, Mr. Bernard changes the scene, deserts his motley 
 companions, and assumes the courtly and arduous character 
 of " Sir Peter Teazle." Undertaken, as we hear, at a study 
 of two days only, it was repi'esented with a maturity of design, 
 and a richness of drapery, worthy the industry and ingenuity 
 of years. We have never seen the inimitable wit of this char- 
 acter shine through so pellucid a medium. It suffered no 
 blemish from interior imperfection, no divergency from an 
 unpolished surface. It was chaste comedy ; as delicate, yet 
 as beautiful as the tapestry of the Gobelins. 
 
 On Wednesday evening, "George Barnwell," by young 
 Whitlock. Of his application and ambition, what a woeful 
 example is here I " Pity 'tis, 'tis true 1" What his conception 
 of the character might have been, we know not ; for the 
 youthful Roscius was so imperfect in the words of the author, 
 that " Barnwell" seemed to us, like a fine child, stolen away 
 by Gypsies, and stained with walnut juice to prevent detec- 
 ^on ! At least, the trick passed very well upon us, for the 
 4ndentity of the person was kept a profound secret from our 
 
398 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 eyes. This stricture is due to talent itself, which should not 
 be permitted to choak itself up with the briars of its own lux- 
 uriance. Whatever may be the scope, or the vanity of gen- 
 ius, true it is, the higher attainments of the stage, are the 
 rewards only of severe industry and patient endeavour. If 
 Mr. Whitlock would become eminent, he must consent to be 
 instructed. He should beware, 
 
 *'..........„.,. lest some impulse accursed 
 
 Make him seize the wrong' end of his duty first ; 
 And in vain seek for fame, by a traverse conceit. 
 Like the Turk, who crawls into his bed at the feet." 
 
 In " Milwood" Mrs. Barrett acquired great reputation, for 
 soundness of judgment and strength of talent. Of this charac- 
 ter the passions are violent, as the regrets of love, and the 
 anathemas of vengeance, yet opposite, as the zephyr whisper- 
 ing to the violet, and the whirlwind uprooting the oak. Her 
 best scene suffered something in effect from the strumming 
 " notes of preparation" sounded from the orchestra. This 
 gross errour should be corrected ; for the last scene of many 
 an act has been mutilated by such voluntary cadences and 
 syncopations of Catgut, 
 
 " Whose squeaks are as dissonant, grating and harsh. 
 As a file rasping knots, or lewd frogs in a marsh." 
 
 It is neither our purpose, nor our pleasure, to deal out to 
 the publick a tissue of panegyrick, but to subtract the record 
 of fame, where the lovely individual stands registered in ex- 
 cellence is a ranker offence, than to leave " unannointed" a 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 399 
 
 ■Vv^hole tribe of demerit, "with all its imperfections on its 
 head." 
 
 Mrs. Jones, whose very self is melody, and whose sweet 
 ballads m " Margaretta" could not derive a more touching 
 charm, even from the lyre of Sappho, has preferred large 
 , claims on the publick admiration, in a great variety of char- 
 acter, where the comick spirit, unaided by vocal fascination, 
 is left to exhibit its own powers in scenes of difficult interest 
 and execution. Her " Donna Clara" is one of the happiest of 
 these specimens ; and we trust the repetition of the farce, in 
 which Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Jones so eminently excel, will, 
 ©n any night, increase the attraction of the theatre. 
 
 This evening " The Voice of Nature" is again called foi* 
 by the voice of the publick ; annexed to it is the Opera of the 
 " Highland Reel," supported, perhaps, by the strongest cast- 
 ©f characters, which have ever assisted its representation in 
 any part of America. Mr. Bernard is the " Shelty," and Mrs, 
 Jones the " Moggy" of the evening. Surely the publick has 
 an appetite for the luxuries of the scene, after all the refine- 
 ments of an opposition. Else, they will never know " a hscwk 
 from a handsaw." 
 
400 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 1 HE dramatick persons in the cbmedy of " John Bull" re° 
 quire an extensive range of talent. There are but few playsj 
 which cannot be represented with a more limited variety of 
 powers ; and the great and merited success of this piece, is 
 no profitless tribute of thanks to our " lucky manager" for 
 that diversity and strength of scenick ability, with which he has 
 embellished and enriched the publick amusement. The best 
 author's most favourite production may perish by stage suffo- 
 cation, or tottle to death in a rickety representation. What 
 is wit without its conductor ? Its flashes exhaust by excursion 
 that fire, which direction would have vivified. Hence it is, 
 the characters of most modern comedies are moulded for the 
 actors, who are intended to personate them. American thea- 
 tres have many performers of eminence, but it frequently hap- 
 pens, that their force is not so embodied, as to sustain the 
 weight of a popular English drama. The play may shoot 
 vigorously in London, but will not take root here, and dies by 
 transplantation. Such, however, has not been the fate of 
 "John Bull ;" though it is certainly a comedy, which demands 
 the more arduous and and multiform efforts of the scene. The 
 representation of this play, with an individual exception, would 
 honour any theatre. The design of it, is to exhibit one of the 
 most prominent features of the English character ; the proud, 
 robust honesty, and strong moral sensibility of the middle 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 401 
 
 class of society. " Job Thornberry" is an English tradesman, 
 of such principles and such feelings. Impatient in honour, 
 as a peer ; yet assiduous in his occupation, as the humblest 
 citizen. His character and his fortune have been the fruits 
 of thirty years of equal benevolence and industry. Wealth 
 and reputation have grown up along with him. He has an 
 only child, a daughter. Job Thornberry is the very best of 
 fathers. Mary has too much simplicity for so much loveliness. 
 She is the victim of an illicit attachment. Job has a friend, 
 who is in distress ; and with a nobleness of heart advances, for 
 his relief, the Avhole earnings of his life. His friend absconds 
 with the money ; and Job awakes on the morning, when the 
 play opens, to find his house filled with bailiffs, and deserted 
 by his daughter. Shame and the fear of a parentald iscovery 
 of her indiscretion have driven her, unconscious of her father's 
 misfortune, to an inhospitable and almost desert heath. But 
 the parent nest is scarcely cold, before the little wanderer is 
 restored to it. Many touching incidents, chaste, impressive 
 sentiments, and festive ebullitions, crowd the action of the play« 
 Its combinations of interest are so dexterously interwoven, 
 that the audience is wound in with the tissue, before it per- 
 ceives the charm, by which it has been snared. The fable 
 finally restores Job to opulence, and gives to the grief-worn 
 affections of Mary the honourable seal of wedded love. 
 
 Such was " John Bull ;" and he was ably presented by Mr. 
 
 Dickenson. It has lorg been our inteniion to notice this 
 
 actor in a style of commendation, due to his rare talent, highly 
 
 improved and polished as it is, by indefatigable attention, and 
 
 51 
 
402 THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 
 
 aided by the discrimination of a sound judgment, and tb© 
 quick impulse of a strong, natural sensibility. Four years 
 since, he ranked among the obscurest comedians of our stage. 
 Opportunity had never indulged his genius with an experi- 
 ment of its energies. He was silent and unknown. Soon 
 after a poverty of talent in the theatre compelled Mr. Dick- 
 enson into the character of " Sir Oliver Oldstick," in " He 
 would be a Soldier ;" and his great success, though generally 
 acknowledged, excited an applause, not unmixed with astonish- 
 ment. Fame now opened her course to him ; her goal was 
 in view ; he has ever since been mending his speed ; and, if 
 the race is to be won by sound bottom, good mettle, whip and 
 spur, we shall soon behold this favourite actor, the groAjth of 
 our own town, in possession of the stake. His cast of charac- 
 ter is commonly that of Parsons and Suett ; but he occasion- 
 ally deviates into the precinct of Munden, and returns with 
 fresh laurels. His "Old Rapid," " Sir Robert Ramble," and 
 " Nicolas," in " Secrets Worth Knowing," are among his best 
 assumptions. In " Job Thoniberry," for the two first nights, 
 he appeared diffident of the task he had undertaken ; but dis- 
 covered all the great outlines of the character. On the third 
 and fourth nights, his confidence was strengthened by applause, 
 and his merit by consciousness. The honest petulance of his 
 anger is one of his best traits. In his scenes with Mary, he 
 feels, if possible, too much, to give effect to his conception. 
 
 Of Mr. Bernard, in " Dennis Brulgruddery," we shall give 
 no sketch. The reader must see him. In this walk of Hiber- 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISilS. 403 
 
 niaii humour, he is entitled to the Shamrock of the stage. 
 Some of the mimick sons of St. Patrick 
 
 " Have been kind to the brogue, wliile they murdered the jest ;" 
 but in him, what is a thundering jest to the audience appears 
 to be uttered with such nature and simplicity, that in truth 
 he blunders without knowing it. This is the strict keeping of 
 character j the test of theatrical excellence. 
 
 Wilmot's " Dan" has been justly commended in other 
 criticism. His personation was very correct. Can he not 
 cure his voice of some of its monotony ? Mere nature will 
 often modulate the expression of passion, better than oratory. 
 Clowns are the children of nature. 
 
 " Francis Rochdale" is one of Mr. Jones's happiest efforts. 
 Filial affection, high honour, love and jealousy are the fea- 
 tures of this character. Those, who have seen the play, will 
 not need to be told, that the transitions of these passions and 
 principles were chastely and deeply marked. This gentleman 
 has one excellence in common with Mr. Bernard ; speaking, 
 or silent, he is always in character. In New-York, the char- 
 acter was so indifferently portrayed, that the manager is 
 advised to expunge as much of it, as the plot could spare from 
 tlie play. Here, it is one of the most prominent personages of 
 the drama. In some passages, however, Mr. Jones was guilty 
 of a precipitancy, not warranted by the impulse of the scene ; 
 but in a great proportion of the character, his illustration of 
 the sentiment and soul of his author was luminous indeed. 
 Tf we mistake not, the powers of this gentleman are well cul^ 
 
404 THEATRICAL CKlTICISMS. 
 
 tivated, and might soar far beyond the flight of young Roclr-. 
 dale. 
 
 In the " Hon. Tom Shuffleton," tve hand Mr. Wilson, for 
 tlie first time, to our readers ; and (all cavillings and barkings 
 to the contrary notwithstanding) we do affirm, that he merited 
 a very liberal exercise of the publick favour ; and that his 
 conception of the character was much more correct, than that 
 of some of his criticks. Scribblers should recollect, (not unless 
 they have previously understood,) that " ShuiReton" is a com* 
 pound of Bond-street fashion and Godwin's " political justice." 
 He is no less a disciple of the beau monde, than of the pro- 
 found " Stupeo." This intermixture of character is well 
 preserved by Mr. Wilson, The thing is a caricature, and 
 he has hit it exquisitely. The spleen of some criticks against 
 this performer is almost ludicrous. In '^ Sir Benjamin Back- 
 bite," he is reprehended for his rouge ! In " Durimel," he 
 is commended for wearing little or none ! Mr. Barrett is 
 also quizzed for using a white handkerchief in "Charles Sur- 
 face !" The use of a handkerchief is surely not the objection ; 
 Barrett may quote Smith and Palmer for that. By my troth 
 then, the critick's senses are offended at the colour of it. 
 pray, Barrett, appease his classical wrath, and change your 
 laundress I To such a critick we shall only say, 
 
 " Not the splenetick scowl, from e'en Stag'yrite's ej'es^ 
 ?for the fi'own, whicli, in trifles, looks sulky and wise. 
 Constitute the great Critick. Poh, psha, pr'ythee, pish ; 
 Take this tete de veau off, put some beef in the dish." 
 
THEATRICAL CRITICISMS. 405 
 
 In "Caroline Braymore," Mrs. Powell had little to exhibit, 
 but the elegant frivolity of dress and fashion. The character 
 was not worthy of the talent, she possesses, nor of the esteem, 
 the publick entertains of her. But her taste embellished the 
 shadows of the author's thought, and snatched applause be- 
 yond the reach of the half-draw;i original. 
 
 Mr. Barrett's " Peregiine" and Mrs. Jones's " Mary" haVe 
 both very much impi'oved since the first night. They occupy 
 a wide space in the publick estimation of the play. Mr. Bar- 
 rett, we think, infused into his part some just discriminations 
 of sense, and many fine sprinklings of feeling. The talent 
 of Mrs. Jones has charmed us in so many walks, both of 
 comedy and opera, that we scarcely know what line to fix 
 upon as her greater excellence. With sentimental comedy 
 she has been less familiar ; but she is not the less eminent. 
 The interesting loveliness of person, and melodious tenderness 
 of simple expression, required in " Mary," were the very 
 characteristicks of Mrs. Jones. In relating her story to " Per- 
 egrine," the description of her elopement from her father's 
 house, honours both her judgment and feeling. She is the 
 very picture of desolate grief, 
 
 "And seems, as the tears o'er lier eyelids are creeping- ; 
 Like a willow, that g'rows for lire purpose of weeping--" 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN* 
 
 GEOGRAPHICAL, HISTORICAL, AND POLITICAL, 
 
 Spain is not a dead, but sleeping lion. 
 
The subsequent Sketch ivas jirejiared^ at a short notice, at 
 the request of Messrs. Russell, Cutler and Belcher, as prefa- 
 tory to their account of the dinner, in 1809, given by the mer- 
 chants of Boston, in honour of the " Spanish Patriots." Mr^ 
 Paine nvas ?iow greatly depressed in his circumstances, and his 
 health was so much impaired, that he ivas confined almost wholly 
 to his house. He was not the owner nor possessor of a single 
 historical trad j and, living out of town, he had not the means 
 of consulting any, while writing, if it had been necessary to his 
 purpose. The store-house of his memory alone supplied him 
 with the materials. It would be difficult to find a greater 
 volume of history compressed into a narrower compass ; and, 
 judging from his conversation, it could not have been reasonably 
 inferred that the history of this section of the globe had been the 
 subject of his particular attention. .4 mind, so capable of looking 
 " into the seeds of time," and so abundantly replenished with 
 the lore of past ages, ought to have been encouraged and might 
 have been usefully employed in elevated political speculations. 
 
 The heroick valour of Spain and her illustrious ally has 
 ^^ plucked up her drowned honour by the locks " and four years 
 have given the substantial impress of truth to these sanguine 
 speculations. Prophecy surrendered to history upon the renown- 
 ed plains of Salamanca, 
 
SKETCH. OF SPAIN, 
 
 "The STORK in the heavens knoweth her appointed time'," 
 
 At this momentous crisis in the annals of hviman liberty, when 
 the hopes and fears of mankind are trembling in the balance 
 with dark and doubtful destiny, Spain, a nation peculiarly- 
 marked by heaven and history ; great though oppressed, never 
 despairing, and now resuscitated, has become equally interest- 
 ing to the mind of the philosopher, and the heart of the phi- 
 lanthropist. The late eruption of publick virtue in this south- 
 ern extremity of Atlantick Europe, while it has covered with. 
 a warm suffusion of transport the cheeks of all brother patri- 
 ots in every section of the globe, is not to be regarded as one 
 of the wonders of this " age of prodigies !" After an elaborate 
 and unbiassed examination and comparison of the national 
 genealogy, and family features, of modern Europe, we feel 
 an ingenuous pride in asserting, that this revolution, bold and 
 glorious as it is, is no mn^acle at the south of the Pyrennees. 
 There it is a plain event, which was justly to be expected, 
 from the fire and the patience, the constancy and the elevation 
 of the Spanish character. Slow to determine, the Spaniards 
 are resolute to act. True to their plight, muscular from labour, 
 52 
 
410 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 
 
 and familiar with peril, they glory in their zeal, contented td 
 suiFer, and despising to despair. Such men may be slaught- 
 ered, but they can never be disgraced or conquered. 
 
 Cordially as the great family of man has rejoiced at the 
 late uprising of this powerful though recumbent people, we 
 have no doubt but the aspiring dictator of Europe still beholds 
 this sudden disruption of his Jesuitical plans, as the most sur- 
 prising incident in the political drama, of whose tragical buf- 
 foonery, he had so long been the principal actor ; a drama, in 
 which he played " the very vice of kings," and oft had mad© 
 some scores of brother kings, and sister, brother kings of 
 " threads and patches ;" and all, perdue, to put their " pre- 
 cious diadems in his pocket !" It is now useless to add, that 
 this Imperial freebooter was born in the island of Corsica, in 
 the very year, v/hen it became a patch on the train of the 
 French colonies ; an island which has produced but one Paoli, 
 and above a million pirates ; an island, which in 1768, became 
 a fief of France, and in thirty years after gave a tyrant to her 
 mistress. This emigrant Emperour had brought with him, 
 from the m.ountainous crag of his nativity, the unprincipled 
 atrocity and barbarism of its predatory inhabitants, attempered 
 and commanded by the prodigal boldness of its once noble 
 chief. It is no blot on the escutcheon of Paoli, that he attend- 
 ed as a Christian sponsor, at the baptism (Oh word pro- 
 phaned !) of Buonaparte ! for then, he knew not the mishapen 
 babe of blood ; and who shall look " into the seeds of time ?" 
 Now, indeed, (should this great spirit now revisit earth,) he 
 would blush at the degeneracy of his godson, 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN. 41 1 
 
 And startle at the dire pollution of the rite. 
 Which at the sacred fount baptized a fiend ! 
 And, in the conscious horrour of the tomb. 
 His peace-laid bones would shiver at the deed 
 
 In the invasion of Spain, the predictions of that firm and 
 •enlightened patriot Cevallos have been verified to the amaze- 
 ment of the usurper, who presumptuously thought that she 
 had forgotten her Pelagias and her Charles, as Holland had 
 her Van Trump and her Nassau. It is evident that he mis- 
 rated the people, with whom he had to contend. He had not 
 suspected, that the very arts, which he employed to sever the 
 rock at the basis of the mountain, would rend the ice on its 
 summit, and produce an avalanche to crush him. Infatuated 
 with triumph, and unsated with spoil ; a hero compovmded of 
 marginal notes translated from Plutarch ; a politician, military 
 as Rome, and corrupt as her Praetorian cohort ; he adventured 
 on the conquest of this degraded, though not degenerated peo- 
 ple, without knowing one spring in the whole physical engine, 
 that moved the energy and the spirit of the country. It is no 
 wonder, therefore, that he has lounged into the cathedrals of 
 Spain, as a Choctaw on his travels would stroll among the 
 apparatus of a philosophy chamber. Haply, both for a while 
 might be mightily tickled with so novel an amusement, in 
 which their sole object was to gaze, to admire, and to pilfer. 
 The royal robber would no doubt lay his hands on the superb 
 and massy ornaments of the church, with as little ceremony 
 and concern, as the " vmtutored Indian" would have in feeling 
 andhandling the magical workmanship of anelectricalmachine. 
 
412 SKETCH OF SPAIN, 
 
 This too, sans doubie, might all be done from curiosity, sheer 
 curiosity ; and the results of both experiments have been 
 equally curious. " JVoli me tangere" was a motto which the 
 Indian never loievv, and the Corsican had forgotten ; and thus 
 they both agreed to touch and take ; " but no such matter 1" 
 For when the " itching palm" of the arch emperour sacrile- 
 giously attempted to purloin the treasures of the sacristy, with- 
 out asking first the wings of its sculptured saints to transport 
 it, he fatally found, like his unsophisticated brother of the 
 woods, that his too meddlesome finger had struck the conduct- 
 ing wire of the battery, and what he had touched from amuse- 
 jTient, had knocked him down in good earnest ! 
 
 Alexander raved at a wound, and Buonaparte iiiay yet die of 
 a surprize ! 
 
 Spain has been celebrated in classick annals, under the 
 names of Iberia, Hesperia, and Hispania. It is so severed by 
 nature from the continent, to which it is attached, that it forms 
 in itself a disconnected and independent section of the earth. 
 Whoever glances on the map will directly perceive that it is 
 the very x^ecess of the coiatinent ; and a modern traveller has, 
 pronounced it the finest portion of the globe, either in the old 
 world or the new. In all the revolutions and wars of Europe, 
 from the establishment of the Olympick Games to the present 
 epoch, it has been a land of renown. Abounding m mines of 
 silver and other precious metals, which have not been worked 
 since the discovery of America, Spain is by many historians 
 supposed to have been the Tarshish of the Hebrews and Phoe= 
 aicians, mentioned in scripture. Six hundred years before the 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN. 413 
 
 Christian era, the Greeks planted a colony in the south of 
 Fi-ance, and built the city of Marseilles, the inhabitants of 
 which to this day retain the Grecian configvu"ation of counte- 
 nance. They also explored the adjacent Spanish provinces of 
 Catalonia, Valencia, Murcia and Granada, It is not certainly 
 known, that they ever carried their spirit of adventure to the 
 Pillars of Hercules ; but Gibraltar, the ancient Caipe, was vis- 
 ited by Carthagenian enterprize, and many cities were built by 
 them on the Mediterranean shores of Spain. In the second 
 Punick war, Hannibal destroyed the city of Saguntum for its 
 unyielding attachment to Rome, and an insulated rock, near 
 the capital of Valentia, still bears the ruins of that heroick 
 town, as a proud monument of Spanish constancy. Carthage 
 fell, and Spain was annexed to the empire of Rome ; though 
 some of her mountains w^ere never ascended by the Imperial 
 Eagle. Soon after, Cesar, Pompey and Licinius Crassus 
 formed their celebrated triumvirate ; and, in the division of the 
 world between them, such was the relative estimation of Spain 
 in the scale of nations, that Pompey was satisfied with that 
 kingdom alone for his lot. He built Pampeluna in Navarre, 
 but never quietly established his dominion in the heart of the 
 country. By a continual reinforcement of veteran legions, and 
 impregnable garrisons, the Romans maintained their power, 
 until the beginning of the fifth century ; that century, which 
 laid the foundation of all modern Europe. This era was more 
 famous for the dissolution of an empire, which had governed 
 the Vvorld for seven hundred years, than even the thirteenth 
 century for producing a hero, who overran the world in as 
 
414 SKETCH OF SPAIX. 
 
 many days. But, as the epoch of Gengiskan seems to be revived 
 in modern fimes, we trust that the ambitious despot, who, 
 like him, aims to stretch his sceptre from China to Hungary, 
 may, like him, reign only in the renown of his exploits. At 
 the fall of the Roman empire, Spain was invaded by the Suevi, 
 Alani, alid Goths. In a short time, the Goths became the sole 
 masters. When Rome fell, her empire was broken into many 
 fragments : and each member, like the parts of a dissected 
 polypus, sprouted up into a new kingdom. In this eventful 
 century, which beheld the prostration of her power, not only 
 the Goths settled in Spain, but the Franks in Gaul, the Van- 
 dals in Africa, the Anglo-Saxons in England, and the exiles of 
 Padua in the isle of Rialto. In 712, the Saracens or Moors 
 (Arabs and successours of Mahomet), who inhabited the oppo- 
 site coast of Africa, being invited by the grandees of Spain, 
 who revolted from their King Roderick for the commission of 
 a crime, which banished the Tarquins from Rome, landed a 
 powerful army in the southern provinces, and in the year 714 
 defeated the Gothick monarch, who lost in the contest his life 
 and kingdom. But still the Saracens, who, like the Saxons 
 in England, and Henry II. in Ireland, treacherously endeav- 
 oured to subjugate the nation, they came to emancipate, were 
 not masters of this fairest portion of Christendom. A gallant 
 remnant of the Spanish Goths escaped to the inaccessible 
 mountains on the borders of Asturia and Biscay, and preserved 
 their kingdom and their faith. For the greater security they 
 separated into four states, Castile, Arragon, Navarre and Leon ; 
 and held out defiance to the enemy. Nature found bulwarks^ 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN. 415 
 
 and Spain heroes. The renowned Don Pelagius, and after him 
 Don Favella, in the eighth century, were successively the 
 Irvarriour kings of this unconquered band ; and by continual 
 descents, ravages, and incursions from the mountains, on the 
 Mahometan invaders, wrested province after province from 
 their possession : and taught their faithful posterity the hero- 
 ick lesson, that eternal war, with all its horrours, was a prefer- 
 able evil to " one day of bondage." Their descendants were 
 worthy of their progenitors. Hear it, America ! This is no 
 dream of Philosophy, nor romance of Panegyrick ! A war of 
 seven hundred years, in which they were often vanquished, 
 but never subdued. A war of thirty generations was waged 
 for Liberty, and confirmed the doctrine, and appeased the 
 manes of their slaughtered forefathers. Year after year, the 
 Moorish Crescent waned. At length it set in blood ! The 
 Mahometan power received a mortal blow at the terrible battle 
 of Tariifa, in Andalusia, near the Straits of Gibraltar, in the 
 year 1 340 ; and in 1494, two years after the bold and ambitious 
 genius of Spain had discovered a new world in the western 
 hemisphere, she expelled the Moors from their last fortress, 
 the city of Granada, and became sole mistress of her lawful 
 domains. 
 
 Portugal, which on the map of the eastern continent, ap- 
 pears to be so essential to the integrity of the kingdom of 
 Spain, with her experienced the vicissitudes of the " none- 
 sparjng wars," which followed the decline and dismemberment 
 of the Roman empire. In the extirpation of the Moors, the 
 south-west promontory of Portugal was often the field of 
 
416 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 
 
 valour and of courage. In 1 1 39, their general Alplionso, gave 
 battle to the Mahometans at Urique, a town in the province 
 of Alentejo, adjoining Andalusa, obtained a glorious victory, 
 and vras crowned King. The portion of Portugal, which he 
 possessed, he afterwards gave, with his daughter in marriage, 
 to Henry of Burgundy, grandson of Robert, King of France. 
 In tliis family the Portuguese crown continued until 1580, 
 when Philip II. son and successour of Charles I. of Spain, 
 reunited it to his kingdom. In 1640, the duke of Braganca 
 restored the independence of Portugal, and ascended the 
 throne under the title of John IV. In this house the crown 
 now remains. 
 
 In the sixteenth century, the arras of Spain overawed all 
 Europe ; and her discoveries stretched over a great portion of 
 the new continent. It was her boast, that the sun never set 
 on the empire of Spain. Charles II. of the Netherlands, 
 fcldest son of Philip II. Count of Holland, of the house of 
 Austria,) better known under the title of Charles I. of Spain, 
 and Charles V. of the empire of Rome, ascended the throne 
 of Spain in the beginning of this celebrated century. Being 
 a competitor with Francis I. of France for the empire, he de- 
 feated the French army with great slaughter at Pavia, in the 
 then imperial dukedom of Milan, took the French king pris- 
 oner, carried him to Madrid, and exacted a heavy price for 
 his ransom. This memorable battle was fought in 1525 ; and 
 two years after we find the monarch of Spain storming the 
 gates of Rome, and threatening the confederated powers of 
 Europe with the establishment of a new western empire. Of 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN. 417 
 
 the military prowess of Spain, in this era of her greatness, an 
 immortal monument exists in the magnificent palace of the 
 Escurial, in New Castile;. This royal edifice, the largest and 
 most costly in Eui-ope, was twenty-two years in building, and 
 was erected by Philip II. son of Charles I. to perpetuate his 
 victory of St. Quintin, gained on St. Lawrence's day, in 1557. 
 
 Charles II. of Spain, having no issue, named Philip, duke 
 of Anjou, grandson of Lewis XIV. of France, for his successour. 
 This gave rise to the succession war, in which almost all 
 Europe v/as engaged. Philip had a formidable antagonist in 
 Charles, afterwards emperour under the title of Charles VI. 
 but he ultimately succeeded, at the battle of Minaya, and was 
 crowned 17©7. His eventual success, however, was prodi- 
 giously promoted by the plausibility of his title, deduced from 
 his alliance to the crown of Spain, as Lewis had mai-ried the 
 daughter of Philip IV. 
 
 From this period the glory of the Iberian name gradually 
 declined, through a long, luxiu'ious, waning century, in which 
 Spain, as a government, lost all her firmness to foreign nations, 
 and doubled her despotism on her own subjects. In the wide 
 waste of her glory, we discern with pride, and we commemo- 
 rate with gratitude, the noble effort, she made in the cause of 
 American libeity. As the generous and voluntary deed of a 
 gallant and disinterested nation, it is worthy the brightest days 
 of her chivalry. It was heroism without reproach, and without 
 reward ; it was a spark of Castilian fire, which reiumined the 
 <juivering lamp in the clay-cold cemetery of her honours. 
 53 
 
418 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 
 
 A great people can never be debased by a weak g-overnment. 
 The love of country is a religion, which bums in all bosoms, 
 and submits to all sacrifices. That man must be brave, who 
 fears to outlive his country. His home and his grave are 
 sacred by the law of nature, and the prescription of ages. 
 Farms and kingdoms may be sold, but not their inhabitants, 
 or knight service. Men are not heirlooms to estates, nor 
 sumpter-mules to itinerant kings. 
 
 The dominion of Spain is a stake, which in all ages has 
 been desperately contended for ; but, amid all the conflicts 
 and revolutions of Europe, Spain has never been conquered. 
 She has been partially subdued, but has never sunk under the 
 panick of defeat. The swords of heroes have resounded upon 
 her shield ; but she has recorded her valour on the helmets 
 of her assailants. Beaten to her mother earth, she has risen 
 like Anteus, stronger from her fall. Napoleon, the modern 
 Tartar, may march over her territory ; but never subjugate 
 it. Every obstacle of nature, every principle of man, every 
 hope of heaven, are in arms to oppose him. Wherever the 
 eye turns, Spain glitters. One soul is every where ; one spirit 
 breathes through all life ! Virgins and wives give enthusiasm 
 to courage, while old age and childhood lend sanctity to pat- 
 riotism. The whole region is alive ; above and below, on 
 hills and in valleys, the empire is in motion. The invading 
 foe may triumph in pitched engagements ; but two victories 
 would cost him his crown. Sanguine of his fortune, he would 
 probably be tempted by his intoxicated vanity, to penetrate 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN". 419 
 
 the intei'iour of the country. But here his royal brother, the 
 princely Tourist, should remember, that this is the extreme 
 bound of his geographical curiosity ; the "bourne, from which 
 no traveller returns." Thus advanced, he cannot retreat. 
 Every march will be the signal for a battle ; every encamp- 
 ment for a seige. The triumphs of his bulletins will be the 
 funerals of his armies, and his realm their charnel house. 
 Victorious monarch, here ends thy reign ! thy only psean was 
 a dirge ; thy only courtiers, a banditti. Having existed by 
 rapine, they will die like malefactors ; as they have violated 
 religion, they will despair of its consolation j having barbarized 
 nature, they will be execrated by mankind. 
 
 Spain, together with Portugal, exhibits a more solid and 
 regular geographical figure, than any other country in Europe. 
 It forms almost a compact square, whose north eastern boun- 
 dary is an obtuse angle, connected with the continent, and 
 separated from France, by the Pyrennean mountains. Its 
 other outlines are sides of such geometrical proportion, that 
 they are nearly equilateral and co-extensive ; and are guarded 
 and washed by the Mediterranean and Atlantick oceans. This 
 peculiar configuration, (if there be a language in the works of 
 Providence,) indisputably stamps this country an independant 
 nation. Its greatest length, extending from Cape Finisterre 
 to Barcelona, is six hundred miles ; its greatest breadth, from 
 Cape Ortugal to Tarriffa, on the Straits of Gibraltar, is five 
 hundred and fifty miles. Thus constructed, thus combined, 
 and thus defended, is the last refuge of continental liberty. . 
 
420 SKETCH OF SPAIN. 
 
 In days of classick glory, Spain has been the thrifty 
 womb of eraperours, heroes, poets and philosophers. She was 
 the august mothfer of Trajan the Good, and of Theodosius the 
 Great ; the proud parent of Lucan, of Seneca and Quintilian. 
 In modern time she and her sister Portugal have removed 
 the " ultima Thule" of commerce, by patronizing a Colum- 
 bus, and giving birth to a de Gama. 
 
 Her kingdom is now the grand theatre, on which is exhibited 
 the last act, in the eventful drama of human liberty. Spain 
 presents on the map that singular boldness of feature, which, 
 as a nation, has in all ages marked her greatness and decision 
 of soul. ShCjis a Tempe among an amphitheatre of precipices. 
 A most striking analogy exists between her surface and her 
 character ; her geography and her history. While her hills, 
 bleak with barrenness, frown terrible security over her vallies, 
 blooming with luxuriance, she presents us with a lineage of 
 heroes, whose honour has been for centuries the mirror of 
 courtesy, and whose valour, the terrour of knighthood. This 
 great peninsula of Europe, rendered almost physically invin- 
 cible by its own mountainous intersections, seems to have been 
 designed originally by the master hand of creation, to be at 
 once the garden and the citadel of the globe. 
 
 With such a title, she can claim the world for her friend, 
 for she has been the friend of the world. Heroes are the 
 native productions of her soil, for Italy and Greece are her 
 kindred ; and while the luxuriant plains of Campania and of 
 Capua bloom anew in the verdure of her vineyards, and the 
 
SKETCH OF SPAIN. 421 
 
 fragrance of her groves, she can boast a Thermopylae in every 
 mountain, in every field a Marathon. 
 
 = "Oh ! never may 
 
 This Earth of Majesty, this Seat of Mars ; 
 
 This other Eden, demi-paradise ; , 
 
 This fortress, buih by Nature for herself. 
 
 Against infection and the hand of war ; 
 
 This precious stone, set in " her cloud-capt hills," 
 
 Which serve it in the office of a wall. 
 
 Or as a moat defeasive to a house. 
 
 Against the envy of less happy lands ; 
 
 This Nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings. 
 
 Feared for their breed, and famous for their birth, 
 
 Renowned for their deeds throughout the world. 
 
 For christian service, and true chivalry ; 
 
 Lie at the proud foot of a Conqueror ; 
 
 Nor be leased out, (she'll die pronouncing it) 
 
 Like to a tenement or pelting farm !" 
 
NOTES, 
 
His intention of noticing all M}\ Painc'^s imitations, is'c. the 
 Editor soon found himself compelled to abandon. Some are so 
 remote or obscure, that the most patient collator could hardly 
 hope to detect them ; others, as they are obvious and direct^ 
 cannot escape the most careless reader. 
 
 As the labour of correcting the press is new to him, the Ed- 
 itor is seiisible that many false quantities, iJfc. have passed 
 without observation; and he is extremely sorry to fnd, that not a 
 few unwarrantable rhymes and accents, all of which he had 
 purposed to distinguish by italicks, are not so disti7iguished. For 
 these negligencies and others, some of a more, some of a less 
 pardonable character, he has iyideed no excuse : he cannot how- 
 ever but hope, that this frank, not to say humble, confession of 
 his offences may iii some degree soften the censure, which, as he 
 feels himself to desei've it, the Editor does not expect to avoicL 
 
NOTES 
 
 TO THE 
 
 COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 THEME. " AN UNDEVOUT ASTROXOMER IS MAD.*' 
 
 Page 7, line 5. 
 Brighter the glories of the unbounded Crod. 
 
 The whole paragraph is not inelegantly imitated from sev- 
 eral passages of the Paradise Lost. It shews that Milton was 
 among the authors, with whom Mr. Paine was early conver- 
 sant. His acquaintance, however, does not appear to have 
 ripened into an intimacy with him, who describes himself, as 
 able to 
 
 feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 
 Harmonious numbers. 
 
 p. 7,1. 13, 14. 
 
 Come the?!, sweet nymfih, thy mildest breath impart, 
 To swell the youthful muse's artless reed. 
 
 Of this personification the part, where the Evening is seen, 
 as a nymph, playing on the pipe, is eminently happy. The 
 whole is indeed full of Sicilian tenderness. I know not whether 
 Collins might not have suggested the imagery. 
 
 p. 8, 1. 2. 
 
 Whispered invitem.ent to the bower qf joy.. 
 
 The word invitement, if not, as I think it is, from the Poet's 
 own mint, is not current with good authors ; it is obsolescent, 
 perhaps obsolete. 
 
 54 
 
426 NOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 8, 1. 4. 
 
 Urged their request.^ and won my willing soul. 
 
 The zephyrs in this and the four preceding lines are evidently 
 copied from these fine verses : 
 
 now gentle gales, 
 
 Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
 Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 Those balmy spoils. 
 
 Milton, as Waiton suggests, here remembered his Elegy on 
 Bishop Andrewes, once master of Pembroke College, Cam- 
 bridge. 
 
 Serpit odorlferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 
 Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis. 
 
 Stole is from Shakespeare, and balmy sfioils^ odoriferas opesj 
 probably suggested Dryden's (ann : mii'ab :) guilty sweets. 
 
 p. 8, 1. 9. 
 
 Enhedged with Jiowers<f and shrubs, and -vines, and thorns, 
 
 Enhedged is one of Mr. Paine's own vi'ords, but, as it is not 
 impoetxcal, it is perhaps vrorthy of preservation. 
 
 p. 8, 1. 10. 
 
 Which in luxuriant confusion grew. 
 
 This line, partly from the properties of its two leading words, 
 and paitly from the deep and stridulous aspiration, required in 
 pronouncing the relative pronoun, with which the line begins, 
 is miserably sluggish ; and of the same faults, other examples 
 might be easily cited. Indeed Mr. Paine's ear, at least in early 
 life, was but little enamoured of the full and stately harmony 
 of Milton's rhythm. His blank verse neither moves 
 
 like a proud steed reined^ 
 
 Champing his iron curb ; 
 
 nor like some ethereal power can it be described, as 
 
 Gliding meteorous, as evening mist. 
 Risen from a river, o'er the marish glides. 
 And gather's round fast at the labourer's heelj 
 Homeward returning. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 42?" 
 
 His lines seem to creep tamely along, 
 
 Streaklng^ the ground with sinuous trace ; 
 or else they are seen 
 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait. 
 With that canon of Prosody, which requires that, in blank verse, 
 the pauses should never in two successive lines fall in the same 
 place, he was either not then acquainted, or, if acquainted 
 with it, he considered himself, as at liberty to depart from a 
 rule, to which he perhaps found it difficult to submit. 
 
 p. 8, 1. 24. 
 jis waves on wa-ves, so generations crowd. 
 From Horace, Ep : ad Jul : Flor : v. 175 sq. 
 
 Hseres 
 
 Hscredem alterius, velut unda supervenit undam. 
 
 p. 9, 1. 5. 
 
 £'er sweetly smile to lure us from the storm, 
 
 E-ver^ when used, not as an intensive, but as equivalent to 
 always^ does not seem to admit of contraction ; especially 
 when, as in this line, it holds the first place. 
 
 p. 9,1. II. 
 
 Their silent tread I hear. 
 
 Silent is not here to be understood, as signifying an absolute 
 privation of sound. The poet means to say, that the footfall 
 was so soft, as not to be audible, except to a strict and list- 
 ening attention. 
 
 p. 10, 1. 5. 
 
 Of Sirius descries more distant worlds. 
 
 Siriusy though of three syllables, is always pronounced in the 
 time of two. 
 
 p. 10, 1. 6. 
 These cire thy wonders, great Jehovah, these. 
 FroraParad : Lostjb, iv. p. 153 sqq. and Thompson's Hymn, 
 
428 NOTES TO THE 
 
 I know not whether some other reason, than its unutterable 
 sanctity, may not have influenced the English poets, in abstain-^ 
 ing from the word Jehovah. Milton uses it but three times in 
 the Paradise Lost. 
 
 p. 10,1. 14. 
 
 In Nature's language^ understood by all. 
 
 From Addison's, (if it be not Marvel's) Pai'aphrase of the 
 19th Psalm. 
 
 p. 10, 1. 19. 
 
 "Tis thou ivho check'st in mid career the storm. 
 Yet half his strength he put not forth, butcheck'd 
 His thunder in mid volley. P. L. b. iv. 
 
 p. 10, 1.22. 
 A7id their fient lurath in bursting lightnings pour. 
 Pent is a favourite with Milton. Instances might be cited 
 from Sampson Agonistes, Comus and Paradise Lost; and 
 Phillips, the earliest of Milton's imitators, discovers a suitable 
 fondness for this verbal adjective. 
 
 p. 10,1. 24. 
 
 From its foundations heave the boiling deep.. 
 
 From their foundation, loosening' to and fro. 
 They plucked the seated hills. P. L. b. vi. 
 
 p. 10, 1. 27. 
 
 Thou smiVst ; the main subsides, to smile nvith thee. 
 
 Virgil, in his first ^iieis, represents Neptune, as communi-^ 
 eating of his own serenity to the ocean, and causing it, almost 
 by a look, to settle from a dark and weltering uproar to silence 
 and a calm. What iEschyius, in the apostrophe, that breaks 
 from Prometheus in the Ti^ofA. : LsTfA. : v. 89, sq. calls the 
 
 mro-fiim') t\ KV/mxlm 
 
 Avii^iSrfxov yiKa.o-/Lt.aL. 
 
 which Lucretius, lib. i, v. 8, imitates by rident lequora pontiy 
 is not a smooth and glassy tranquillity ; such, as Anacreon 
 describes in the following lines. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES, 429 
 
 • •• ■ )a)f/.a. B'u.Xa.crtnc ^ 
 
 ' ATrctKVViTait yttMVil, 
 
 which Virgil, according to Fischer, seems to have rendered in 
 the Alexis, by cum filacidum vends staret mare ; it is such a 
 sharp and lively ripple, as, glancing to the sun, may be poeti- 
 cally said to enjoy the soft air and cloudless sky.. In this sense 
 Milton without doubt, understood the Father of Tragedy 
 and the Hierophant, as Dr. Darwin would have called Lucre- 
 tius, of Nature. 
 
 As when to them, who sail 
 
 Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
 
 Mf)zambick off at sea, northeast winds blow 
 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 
 Of Araby the blest, with snch delay 
 
 Well pleased, they slack their course, and many a league 
 
 Cheered with the grateful smell old ocean smiles. P.L.b.iv. 159 sqq. 
 It is not unworthy of notice, that Milton, speaking of the 
 subsiding flood, says, 
 
 : ..the clouds were fled. 
 
 Driven by a keen north-wind, that blowing dry 
 
 Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decayed, P. L. si- 842, sqq. 
 
 But this lurinkling ivind, it is to be observed, was a keen 
 north ivind. 
 
 Milton, however, and Lucretius and .^schylus are hardly 
 remembered, when one recalls the simple narrative of two 
 Evangelists, and the more impressive and graphical represen- 
 tation of a third, who instead of relating, like St. Matthew and St. 
 Luke, the mere fact, presents to us the Saviour rebuking the 
 winds, St. Mark's, S.'aVas, 7rE<pific^<ro was full in Milton's 
 recollection, when he made the Son, girt with omni/iotence, 
 standing at the gates of Heaven, look out into the -vast im- 
 measurable abyss, and thus address, not, as after the creation, a 
 single element, but the -void and formless infinite, as he else- 
 where denominates Chaos. 
 
 Silence, ye troubled waves, and, thou deep, peace. 
 Said tlien th' omnifick word, }'our discord end. 
 p. 10, h30. 
 
 Before thy chariot wheels, self-rolUng, flies 
 Pale awe. 
 
 Milton's chariot of fiaternal Deity is iJistinct with spirit. 
 
 No sooner is it wanted, than it appears, flashing thick flames, 
 
430 NOTES TO THE 
 
 and is seen to await the conqueror. Nor does it merely 
 move, as from itself; it shares in the conflict, and partakes of 
 the victory. The whole passage is wonderfully splendid, and 
 one can hardly read it, without deriving from the description 
 some portion of that turbid rapture, in which it was conceived. 
 The place in the seventh book, though similar is much infe- 
 rior. From the one his recollection of Homer's Vulcan may 
 be gathered : in the other we discover Milton's intimacy with 
 the Hebrew Scriptures. 
 
 THEME. TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE GOV. BOWDOIN. 
 
 " Pallida mors aequo pulsat pede paupcrum tabernas, 
 Regumque turres." Hoa. 4th Ode, 1st book. 
 
 p. 15, 1. 5. 
 
 Beneath thick glooms the distant landscap.e fades. 
 
 Suggested probably by Gray, 
 
 Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight. 
 
 They are both so refreshing, that I know not which to prefer, 
 Gray's Evening or Milton's Morning Scenery. 
 
 Under the opening eyelids of tlie morn we drove a field. 
 
 The Elegiack copied the Epick poet. In the Cambridge 
 M.S. S. and the first (1638) edition of Lycidas, it is, instead 
 of " opening," " glimmering eyelids." And here, as they 
 were both favourites of Mr. Paine, I cannot refrain from con- 
 templating, as compared with each other, these two great, 
 though by no means equal or similar poets. 
 
 Gray has little invention ; but his imitations are exquisite ; 
 his landscapes are elysian ; and from his sky there beams a 
 soft and tender azure, to which the verdure of his earth is ad-r 
 mirably adjusted. 
 
 Nor is Milton, perhaps, less of a copyist than Gray. But 
 his obligations are not so easily detected, as, instead of borrow-? 
 ing from the moderns, the ancients seem to throng about 
 him, and intreat him to consider their treasures, as his 
 own. He yields to their importunities, and there is hardly an 
 author of Greece or Rome, that has not furnished a column 
 or a frieze or a capital to that immortal poem, which, like the 
 structure described toward the end of the first book, 
 
COIiLEGE EXERCISES. 431 
 
 « discovers wide 
 
 Within her ample spaces. 
 
 Gray's fancy loves to gaze fondly at the evening star ; Mil- 
 ton's imagination delights to look, as in defiance of its wither- 
 ing splendour, at the morning sun. 
 
 Gray is fond of listening to the Curfew ; it is sweet to his 
 ear, and seems to his melancholy mind, like the requiem 
 of another day, gone to mingle and be lost, like a drop, in the 
 abyss of the past. 
 
 It is one of Milton's pleasures to hearken with a kind of 
 transport to the midnight bell, as its deep and solemn tones. 
 
 Over some wide watered shore, 
 ' Swinging slow with sullen roar, 
 
 becoming more impressive from distance and darkness, breathe 
 back all their harmony from a full and faithful echo. 
 
 The vales of Phoeacia and the charms of the vernal Calypso 
 are among Gray's delights ; Milton loves the autumnal graces 
 of Penelope and the rocks of Ithaca. 
 
 Milton's eye is purged with Euphrasy : he ascends the 
 specular 7nount of his learning and genius, and all time, the 
 future as well as the past, seems to lie open to his inspection. 
 Gray is of feebler opticks : his solemn scenes are, by no means, 
 frequent; they are always fugitive; he catches but a glimpse 
 of the years to come, but that glimpse is more than enough ; 
 it overpowers the sense ; 
 
 Visions of glory, spare my aching sight ! 
 Ye unborn ages, ci'owd not in my soul. 
 
 Gray, in his aversion from active life, and his ardent devo- 
 tion to the Belles Lettres-, resembles Paris retreating, even 
 at the hazard of reproach, from the field, and smothering 
 the sense of shame in the arms of his mistress ; Milton, in 
 his love of controversy, whether civil or religious, seems to 
 despise his darling studies, as Hector, when the clarion was 
 ringing in his ears, could hardly find time or voice to commend 
 his wife and infant to heaven. 
 
 Of Milton, it may be said, that he has no supei'iour ; of 
 Gray, that his equals are rarely found. 
 
432 ^OTESTOTfffi 
 
 p. 15,1. 11, 12. 
 
 In yonder spot Fame^s great colossus lies > 
 Jl Boivdoin moulders in the humble tomb I 
 
 This half Stanza subtracts from the effect of the three stanzas 
 by a wretched hyperbole. 
 
 p. 16, 1. 7, 
 
 The gales with sighs the atvjul voice resound. 
 
 The error, by which certain letters and sounds, being com* 
 pounded, ai'e made to rhyme with the same sounds and letters 
 not compounded, though not without examples even in Pope, 
 is indefensible. 
 
 p. 16,1. 15, 16. 
 
 ,/ind hang on the tomb their -votive wreath^ 
 A wreath with mingl^ honours fondly wove. 
 
 For on read ufion. The making of virtue and philosophy 
 to lament at Mr. Bowdoin's tomb, is a pretty thought ; but 
 the extravagance of the panegyrick is excusable only, as it 
 comes from a youth. 
 
 p. ir, 1. 8. 
 
 He shone the sun of philosofihick light. 
 
 Mr. Bowdoin was president of tlie American Academy of 
 Arts and Sciences. Among the transactions of that body may 
 be found some of his philosophical papers. 
 
 p. 17, 1. 9. 
 
 In him the patriot virtues all coinbined. 
 
 Mr. Bowdoin was for several years Governour of Massa- 
 chusetts. 
 
 p. 17, 1. 24. 
 
 Strong, without rage, and without flattery, sweet. 
 
 Another parody on Sir John Denham's memorable line 
 in his apostrophe to the Thames. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 433 
 
 p. 17, 1. 25. 
 When Massachusetts* patriot sages met. 
 The Convention summoned to determine, whether Massa- 
 chusetts would adopt the Federal Constitution, as accepted 
 and recommended by tlie General Convention, in 1787. 
 
 THEME. " KNOW THEN THYSELF ; PRESUME NOT GOD TO SCAN ; 
 THE PROPER STUDY OF MANKIND IS MAN," 
 
 p. 20, 1. S, 12, 20. 
 And all the Loves and Graces shone. 
 He blushed, he sighed, and asked her hand. 
 And Eden echoed 'with delights. 
 The allegory, by which nature and virtue, being husband 
 and wife, become the parents of happiness, is tolerably well 
 sustained. It wants, however, ease and elegance ; perhaps, 
 because it is too long continued. 
 
 p. 21, 1. 6. 
 When Zephyr from the tvestern cave. 
 
 So in the Valedictory Poem : 
 
 Long have the Zephyrs in their sea-green caves, 
 Shunned the catm bosom of the slumbering waves. 
 For this image and others of near affinity to it Mr. Paine 
 seems to haye conceived a peculiar affection. The same or 
 a kindred phrHseology is of frequent occurrence. 
 
 . p. 21, 1. 12. 
 Thick loivering clouds the heavens deform. 
 M and n, though widely dissonant, are often employed by 
 the earlier poets as homotonous. Even the father of English 
 satire, who may be said to have distanced his contemporaries 
 not less, than his immediate predecessors, by a full century, 
 in this respect is not faultless. One of many instances shall 
 suffice. In the Absalom and Achitophel, he makes the last 
 syllable of Absalom, lorn, jingle with none. Nor is Pope, 
 scrupulous as he was, almost to fastidiousness, in assorting his 
 rhymes, without one example, at least, of the same offence. 
 In the Dunciad he couples damn and ma?z. 
 55 
 
434. NOTES TO I'tlte' 
 
 p. 22, 1. 13. 
 From his smooth tongue sweet poison Jlotved, 
 Of vice, as personified in the preceding Stanzas, Mr. 
 Paine has borrowed many features from Milton. To the 
 same poet he is indebted for the allegory in the beginning 
 of the Poem. 
 
 p. 22, 1. 23. 
 Was heard the echo of the laivn. 
 Lawn is here used, as consonant to the last syllable of for-- 
 lorn. But, so used, it is utterly barbarous and inexcusable. 
 Or and aw do not come from the same, or even from a similar 
 articulation ; they are either not at all alike, or else, which is 
 worse, all similitude is lost in identity. 
 
 p. 23, 1. 8. 
 And Ede7i^s fading beauties wefit. 
 This sympathy of the material with the moral world is 
 finely touched in the Paradise Lost. Book xi. v. 782 sqq. and 
 V. 1000 sqq. 
 
 p. 23, 1. 24. 
 Here Hapfiiness with him retreats. 
 Hither, had the metre permitted, is the proper word. The 
 same sacrifice of grammar to prosody meets us in the " Pro- 
 gi'ess of Society :" 
 
 "A centre must be tuhere its motions tend." 
 Poets, however, on the other as well, as on this side of th©^ 
 Atlantick, treat these humble adverbs with little I'espect. 
 
 p. 24, 1. 9. 
 Severe Experience soon will learn. 
 Without resorting to Shakespeare or the Bishop's Bible, 
 this abuse of speech may be palliated by this example of Sir 
 William Blackstone. Com. vol. i. p. 428. "Appixnticeships," 
 (says he, speaking as an advocate for the "exclusive part," as 
 he calls it, of 5th Eliz. cap. 4, §. 31,) " are useful to the Com- 
 monwealth, by employing of youth, and learmng them to be early 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 435 
 
 industrious." Learn is still considered and employed, as 
 synonymous with teach in Scotland. 
 
 p. 24, 1. 20. 
 
 ^?id all the nmid's dark host appears. 
 
 CoUins's " Shadowy tribes of Mind" was, perhaps, in Mr. 
 Paine's memory. 
 
 THEME. " HUMANUM EST ERRARE." 
 
 To this piece, Milton has furnished much of the sentiment, 
 and not a little of the diction. It is a happier attempt at blank 
 verse, than the theme on Astronomy. 
 
 p. 31, 1. 20. 
 Before yon sun, in youthful splendour clad. 
 
 Collins in his Ode on the poetical charactei', the noblest, as 
 it strikes me, of his noble efforts, thus addresses the sun : 
 And thou, thou rich-haired youth of morn. 
 Golden-tressed, which answers to rich-haired, and probably 
 suggested the compound to Collins, is used by Milton, in his 
 version of the 136th Psalm. He afterwards transferred it to 
 his Reason of Church Government, where he calls tlie laws, 
 the king's " illustrious and sunny locks," " those bright and 
 •weighty tresses," " the golden beams of law and right." 
 Phoebus and Bacchus are, indued, with unfading youth, 
 Solis seterna est Phoebo Bacchoqvie juventas. 
 Nam decet intonsus crinis utrumque deum. Tibull. I. 4 ^7. 
 
 p. 32, 1. 4. 
 The artful traitress, with Circassian smiles. 
 Although the manuscript is directly against me, I cannot 
 but think that Mr. Paine ineant to write Circean. 
 
 p. 32. 1. 22. 
 Where crags menace defiance to the skij. 
 If examples were wanting, the sweetness of the Avord, as 
 thus accented, might excuse the poet for removing the accent, 
 from the first to the last syllable of raenace. 
 
436 NOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 83, 1. 11. 
 
 'Tivas his to ivander mid tenebrious wilds. 
 Mr. Paine remembered Tasso's enchanted grove. 
 
 p. 34, 1. 6. 
 Where boiling quicksands rave ivith maddening foam. 
 
 Virgil, like his own jEoIus, was fond of embroiling the 
 elements. 
 
 Cavum conversa cusj^lde montem, 
 
 linpulit in latus. 
 
 Mr. Paine has done little more, than turn the following lines 
 into English : 
 
 Insequitur cumulo praeruptus aquze mons ; 
 
 Hi summo in fluctu pendent : liis unda dehiscens. 
 
 Ten-am intei- fluctus aperit. Fui-it sestus arenis, 1 JEn : 105 sqq. 
 
 ON SENSIBILITY, 
 p. 40, 1. 13. 
 Which ivants that nervous vigour to acquire. 
 The construction of this line, beside that it does not convey 
 the author's meaning, is abhorrent from every idiom of the 
 language, 
 
 A PASTORAL. 
 
 p. 42, 1. 6. 
 .4nd early linnets hail the fiurjile spring. 
 Purfile spring is from Virgil : ver purfiureum, Moeris v. 40. 
 Purple, perhaps, more in its secondary ,than in its primary sense, 
 is dear to the poets. Gray has the fiurjile light of love^ which, 
 notwithstanding the Greek from Athenseus, he cei'tainly took 
 from the ^neis v. 1,591 sq. Phrynicus had, probably, the 
 same place in his eye. Virgil, as he was not too squeamish 
 to borrow from others, is sometimes indebted to himself. 
 Aristseus, about to consult Proteus, is invested by Cyrene with 
 more than human qualities. 
 
 Usee ait, et liquidum ambrosix diffundit odorem. 
 
 Quo totum nati corpus perduxit ; at illi 
 
 Dulcis compositis spiravit crinibus aura, 
 
 Atque habilis membris venit vigor. IVGeorg. 415 sqq. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 437 
 
 These verses, somewhat heightened, are, in the first jEneis, 
 divided between Venus and her son. The decoram ccesariem 
 of^e hero, is not, indeed, like the shepherd's compositis crin- 
 ibus ; it rather resembles the purfiureum crinein or capillum of 
 Nisus, to whose fatal lock a Greek poet does not scruple to 
 apply aS-avuerss, to mark, I suppose, its uncommon beauty. 
 
 In a verse, which expresses the rapidity of the Po, by the 
 brisk and voluble dactyls, of which it is composed, Virgil calls 
 the sea purple. 
 In mai-e purpureum (jion) violentior effluit amnis. IV. Georg. o7o. 
 
 An intense white, such as a swan's plumage or virgin snow, 
 exposed to a bright, sun tlirows back a reflection, which, as it 
 dazzles the eye, seems to give a slight tinge of purple to the 
 snow or plumage. Hence Horace's Jiurfile amans and the 
 fiurjile snonv of Albinovanus. Pei'haps the Adriatick in a 
 clear day may, instead of blue, appear purple to a distant 
 spectator, as to one more distant it would appear black. 
 
 p. 42, 1. 22. 
 And toiling bees explore the Jiagi'ant rose. 
 
 For flagrant read fragrant. This distich is imitated from 
 Virgil. 
 
 p. 44, 1. 11. 
 
 Elegiack ditties chant o'er Sfiring's sad urn. 
 
 Of the word elegiack the accent reposes, not on the second, 
 but on the third syllable. 
 
 FORENSICK DISPUTATION. 
 
 p.4r, 1. 1,2. 
 
 When Keivton rose, sublimely great, from earth, 
 And boldly spoke tvhole systems into birth. 
 
 Pope's Epitaph on him, who, as he never uttered the name 
 of God, without pausing, as in devotion, would have shud- 
 dered at the irreverent parody inscribed on his monument, is 
 clumsily disguised in this distich. 
 
438 NOTES TO THE 
 
 PROGRESS OF SOCIETY. 
 
 p. 47, 1. 24, 25. 
 
 Her laivs, unchanged by Timers insidious jioiver, 
 Unra-vel centuries or revolve an hour. 
 
 The same, or a similar thought, much more elegantly 
 displayed, presents itself in a song, which for simple and 
 delicate touches is unequalled. Rogers's verses however 
 were not published, when this poem was written. 
 
 p.48, 1. 16. 
 
 Put in her sickle for one " sheaf" of fame. 
 
 Here, I suspect, the author cannot be acquitted of a childish 
 paranomasia. 
 
 p. 49, I. 9. 
 
 As high as heaven its azure arch sustains. 
 
 This and the thirteen succeeding lines are marked by great 
 vigour of conception. 
 
 p. 50, 1, 5, 6, 
 
 To teach the rafiid 7nome?itSt as they fiij^ 
 Beyond the utmost ken of mortal eye. 
 
 This couplet is transplanted from Mr. Paine's " Preface," to 
 the College Exercises. 
 
 p. 51,1. 13, 14. 
 
 The rising m.anners of an infant state 
 Will be the parent of its future fate. 
 
 These lines are big with political wisdom. 
 
 p. 51, 1. 25. 
 
 These ar?n nvith strength., or shrink the trembling nei've. 
 
 This and the correspodent line might be easily reduced 
 to sense and grammar, I feel little doubt, that upon revision 
 Mr. Paine would have thus altered the couplet : 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 439 
 
 ThisXvirtue) arms with strength, that {vice) shrinks the trembling nerves, 
 That taints the blood, and this its health preserves. 
 
 Or, 
 
 One fires the system, one its tone preserves. 
 
 p. 53, 1. 19. 
 Tygers no more a savage nature claim. 
 A flat and feeble echo of one of Pope's feeblest and flattest 
 lines. 
 
 p. 53, 1. 22. 
 
 Seemed a civilian to the m.onstersi vien. 
 Civilian is, I believe, never used as the opposite of barbarian. 
 ^ I know not whether the word has ever relaxed from its tech- 
 nical meaning. 
 
 p. 54, 1. 
 
 Stisfiicion, Cruelty., Revenge resort. 
 
 There is something in Claudian i7i Riif: lib. i. not unlike 
 this privy council. 
 
 p. 56, 1. 3. 
 The tear descended from the world above. 
 This and the five next lines are a well known passage of 
 Tristram Shandy, done into verse. Sterne, perhaps, is not 
 safe fyora the charge of affectation. 
 
 p. 58, 1. 14. 
 Liclcment Sirius, and the rugged soil. 
 I am afraid that Custom has confined incle7nent to cold, 
 and that it cannot now be applied indifferently to cold and 
 heat. 
 
 VALEDICTORY POEM. 
 
 (For 1791, read 1792) 
 The solemnity, Avhich produced this poem, is extremely 
 interesting ; and, being of ancient date, it is to be hoped, that 
 it may never fall into disuse. His affection for the University 
 Mr. Paine cherished, as one of his most sacred principles. He 
 constantly attended the annual commencement, and never 
 
440 NOTES TO THE 
 
 failed to contribute his full contingent to the elegant liilarity 
 of that festival. Of this poem Mr. Paine always spoke, as one 
 of his happiest efforts. Coming from so young a man, it is 
 certainly very creditable, and promises more, I fear, than the 
 untowai-d circumstances of his after life would permit him to 
 perform. 
 
 The four first lines are imitated from Ovid, not very dis- 
 tinctly remembered ; and the last couplet i-eminds one of the 
 parting interview between Johnson and Savage, as described 
 by the former, in his imitation of Juvenal's third Satire. 
 
 p. 60, 1. 25. 
 
 Smile time along^ isfc. 
 
 Though it wants both authority and analogy, yet this phrase, 
 which Mr. Paine uses more than once, is poetical. 
 
 p.61,1. 1. 
 Hail, winding Charles, is^c. 
 
 The Charles, as here addressed, is but Sir John Denham's 
 Thames, compelled to steal through the salt marshes of Cam- 
 bridge, instead of straying through ivanton -vallies, to the 
 Ocean. 
 
 p. 66, 1. 9. 
 
 While transjwrt glistens from the falling tear. 
 
 The same concetto is repeated in Mr. Paine's communica- 
 tion on the Temale Asylum. 
 
 p. 67, 1. 15. 
 While gaily sparkling from the realms of night. 
 
 From the "bard." 
 
 Fair laughs the mom, &c. 
 
 Gray's allegory in the verses, to which I allude, is very 
 noble. Mr. Paine here resumes the imagery of the opening- 
 paragraph. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 441 
 
 PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 
 
 Whether it proceeds from the fertility of the subject, or the 
 poverty of our language, which, though enriched, beside its 
 accessions from modern tongues, by no niggardly infusion 
 of the Latin and Greek, may still be inadequate to the praise 
 of that blessing, withoiit which every other species of external 
 prosperity is worthless and insipid ; whatever be the cause, it 
 is unquestionably true, that of the English poets, not excepting 
 Blackmore and Thomson, each of whom has written an elabo- 
 rate poem on Liberty, none has left us a panegyrick such, as 
 the first and noblest attribute of civil life deserves. Cowper's 
 Task contains a few good lines about Liberty ; and, as if some 
 seraph was breathing his soul through the strings, there occa- 
 sionally swells from the harp of Milton such symphonies, as 
 might almost start the shade of Brutus. Nor does Akenside, 
 in his great poem, which, together with his hymn to the Nai- 
 ades, has ensured him an undying fame, forget the last of the 
 Romans,nor the cause in which Brutus was willing, for the gen- 
 eral good to become the priest of patriotism, that by his own 
 hands he might offer up one of his best friends, as an atoning 
 sacrifice to the Commonwealth. 
 
 p. 72, 1. 25, 26. 
 
 One murder marks the assassin's odious name. 
 
 From the late Bishop of London's Seatonian prize poem on 
 Death. 
 
 p.74, 1. 10. 
 
 jind called a Mayhew to religion's aid. 
 
 Dr. Mayhew is still remembered, not only as a subtle and 
 dextrous controveitist, but as a gentleman of great openness 
 and urbanity. His sermons discover a mind of no ordinary 
 vigour : and his learning was such, as few of his contempora- 
 ries could boast. Dr. Mayhew, without doubt, did much 
 toward awakening that spirit of frank and fearless enquiry, for 
 which the clergy of the metropolis are justly celebrated. That 
 he had no coadjutors however must not be supposed. Men, 
 56 
 
442 NOTES TO THE 
 
 of a Catholicism not less ingenuous than his, were at the same 
 time busy in different parts of New England, in attempting to 
 redeem the people of their respective cures fi'om a bigotry, 
 infinitely more mischievous, than the Archiepiscopal tyranny, 
 as they called it, to escape which their ancestors were content to 
 leave their native land, and wander, they kncAV not whither, in 
 search of religious liberty. To this cooperation it is owing that 
 so much elegant erudition has found the way to the pulpit ; and 
 hence too it is, that so many of our clergy are equally eminent 
 as scholars, and exemplary as christians. 
 
 p. 76,Lr. 
 Hail.) sacred Liberty ., divinely fair. 
 
 When this poem was delivered it was generally thought 
 that the French Revolution was what Mr. Fox, in the effer- 
 vescence of his feelings, emphatically termed it, the most stu^ 
 fiendous monument ever erected by man to Liberty. 
 
 This opinion however, from being embraced by all, soon be- 
 came confined to a few ; and the excesses of the different fac- 
 tions, as they supplanted one another, in a short time disen- 
 chanted even Mr. Fox of his faiiy visions, and convinced him 
 that the revolution was nothing more or better than a scramble 
 among the people, divided into parties, having adverse views 
 and interests, for place and power. Such indeed, as knew the 
 tendency of all civil coinraotions, did not wait till Louis was 
 uncrowned or beheaded. Before either of those events many 
 saw the issue of the struggle, and predicted, that this fierce 
 spirit of liberty would soon foam itself mad, and be cried and 
 hunted down by some aspirer to the throne, as the most dan- 
 gerous of all evils. Such has been the result. He, who now 
 controls France, and through France, almost every other na- 
 tion under heaven, has vaulted into the seat of the Bourbons, 
 over the yet panting remains of freedom ; and his diadem, 
 which owes all its lustre to the light, as it glitters in a blasting 
 reflection from his invincible sword, is sometimes darkened to 
 a fearful dimness by the steams of unexpiated blood ; of blood 
 spilt by the Usurper, to give a deeper dye and a livelier gloss 
 to the imperial purple. 
 
COLLEGE EXERCISES. 443 
 
 p. 76,1. 21. 
 
 Week with despair^ slow tottering with toil. 
 
 A happier instance of imitative harmony it would be diffi- 
 cult to adduce. The preceding couplet teems with a pair 
 of sturdy Hybernicisms. 
 
 p. 77, 1. 9. 
 
 Long may the laurel to the ermine yield. 
 
 This line is a translation of Cicero's celebrated verse. 
 Though the Roman orator, in comparison with Virgil, was but 
 a sorry poet, I cannot help thinking that his translations, par- 
 ticularly some passages in his translation of Sophocles's 
 Trachiniae, so far as he translated that noble tragedy, are at 
 least as good, as any of Mr, Fox's verses. 
 
 A PASTORAL. 
 
 Our language, though poor in Pastorals, can boast of one, 
 divided, like this, into Morning, Noon and Evening, which has 
 seldom been equalled. Cunningham's day is rich in rural 
 scenery. His colours are of the ten de rest delicacy, and eveiy 
 object is touched from nature. 
 
 p. 78, 1. 9. 
 
 The mor7i, with }iearly feet advancing., leads 
 
 Xow morn, her rosy steps in th' eastern clime 
 Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl. Milton. 
 
 p. 79. 1. 15. sqq. 
 
 JSfow the fierce coursers of the sultry day. 
 
 In this and the five following lines one may trace Ovid, 
 Claudian and the Epitaphium Damonis as well, as Virgil, 
 How suffocating is the heat described in these verses. 
 
 Jum rapidus torrens sitientes Sirius Indos 
 Ardebat ; cceIo et medium sol igneus orbem 
 Hauserat : arebant herbse, et cava flumina siccis 
 Faucibus ad limum radii tepefacta coquebant. 
 
444 NOTES TO THE COLLEGE EXERCISES. 
 
 p. 80, 1. 18. 
 And slQtv in solemn brown brings on the even. 
 
 From Addison. The first lines of Cato are perhaps the 
 greatest effort of his muse. Mr. Paine was never very 
 careful to avoid the opening of vowels on each other. There 
 is none of his poems,that is not deformed by the Hiatus. 
 
 p. 81, 1. 11, sqq. 
 A nightingale, nvho^from a neighbouring spray. 
 
 These verses contain in a compressed form a translation of 
 Strada's nightingale. 
 
 p. 86, 1.27". 
 
 From his keen eyes the livid lightnings dart. 
 
 The sense requires the substitution of vivid for livid. The 
 fire of that mind, which fulmined over Greece, was far from a 
 pale and sickly flash. Demosthenes, as he took Pericles for 
 his model, may certainly share in the praises, lavished on his 
 great exemplar. Dr. Parr applies the verse, to which I allude, 
 and which Milton seems to have done little more than amplify 
 in the Paradise Regained, to Mr. Fox. 
 
 p. 99, 1. 3. 
 Philenia sings, and sings the soldier's toil. 
 Mr. Paine alludes to Mrs. Morton's Beacon Hill, the first 
 canto of which, was then lately published. It is to be regretted, 
 that the poem, if finished, is still kept from the press. 
 
 p. 100, 1. 17. 
 
 When that warm tongue, from which such musick Jiows. 
 
 Instead of tongue, Mr. Paine, it is said, proposed to substi- 
 tute lifi. The substitution certainly betters the compliment j 
 but I know not whether warm lip. is not rather too luscious. 
 
NOTES 
 
 TO THE 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 
 
 EDWIN AND EMMA. 
 
 p. 115, 1. 5 sq. 
 Ingeyiuous Edtvin ! ivhom fiale Envy's Jrowriy 
 For thee half-brightened to a smile^ applauds. 
 
 This figure, though it may not answer all the requisitions 
 of criticisna, conveys the author's meaning with uncommon 
 felicity. 
 
 p. 116, Isqq. 
 Whatever in Lo-ue's bright landscape charmed your vie'ii), 
 This Stanza is not less delicate than elegant. 
 
 p. 116, 1. 24. 
 ./ind wish, that wedlock was no sin in heaven, 
 
 Matrimony by the place of the Scripture, to which Mr. 
 Paine alludes, is not declared a sin. The Saviour does not 
 say, that marriage in heaven would be unlawful ; he says 
 merely that, to the blessed, being made like the angels of Gody 
 marriage is unnecessary. It is not prohibited by penalties, 
 as an offence ; it is barely described as superseded by a 
 nobler communion, of which marriage is but a gross 5ind im- 
 perfect symbol. The preceding stanza is finely touched. 
 The evening star is stayed, while Venus smiles on the nuptial 
 rites, and by her smile consecrates the genial couch to a large 
 and liappy issue. If this epithalamium commemorates a real 
 wedding, the goddess did not smile in vain. 
 
446 NOTES TO THE 
 
 MONODY ON W. H. BROWN. 
 
 Of this monody there is something like concetto in the two 
 first stanzas ; but it is soon dropped, or rather lost in the poet's 
 feelings ; for the piece seems to have flowed almost without 
 premeditation from his full arid querulous sorrow. The transi- 
 tion, by the first line of the third stanza, is full of pathos ; of 
 that tenderness, which sobs in the very movement of the mea- 
 sure ; the three other lines are something more than pretty. 
 
 p. 119,1. 17. 
 Ithaca's queen^ his comick liencil drenv. 
 This line is extremely awkward, and moves as Penelope 
 would have hobbled on pattens ; the last line of this stanza, 
 except that it describes the demeanour of a Pagan princess by a 
 custom, peculiar to some christian countries, is at once tender 
 and lofty. 
 
 p. 120,1. 17. 
 Felt ye the gale F It was the Sh-ock blast. 
 One of Mason's choral odes suggested this abrupt and 
 startling question. 
 
 p. 121, 1,26. 
 To hold fiure converse ivith the babbling brook. 
 So in the verses to Brattle : 
 
 And man grew social with the babbling bi'ook. 
 Babbling brook is from Shakespeare. 
 
 p. 122, 1.28. 
 But ivho has sketched the fragrance of the rose ? 
 Mr. Paine remembered the Greek epigram. 
 
 p. 124, 
 
 The Stanzas to Mr. Brattle, though somewhat extravagant, 
 are very pleasing. The last quatrain, particularly the second 
 line, is imagined in the true spirit of encomiastick poetry. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 447 
 
 p. 127, 1. 1 sqq. 
 Thou injured maid, to gain ivhose secret name. 
 This, and the three next lines are striking. Arrected ears, is 
 word for word from Virgil, auribus arrectis. The ivhispering 
 gallery of fame, thovigh savouring somewhat of Cowley, is a 
 happy thought. The ivatch tower of the ivinds, Mr. Paine 
 owes to his recollection of the Octagon tower of Andronicus 
 Cyrrhestes, of which Vitruvius takes notice, and to which 
 Stuart assigns his third chapter of the Antiquities of Athens. 
 It is now a Turkish chapel, called the Teckeh. The channels 
 in the pavement, Stuart supposes to be the remains of a 
 water dial. His margin refers us to Suidas, Pausanias, Aris- 
 tophanes, Plutarch, Hesychius and Pliny. Stuart confesses 
 that Vitruvius's silence is unfavourable to his conjecture ; 
 but then Vitruvius, he observes, is silent also as to the sun 
 dials about the building, which were there, in his time, as ap- 
 pears from Varro, who calls the tower, the Horologium of 
 Cyrrhestes. Horologium, he adds, signifies not only a sun 
 <lial but a water dial. He also adds, that a sun dial and a 
 water dial, were placed together in the baths of Hippias, which 
 Lucian has described, and that it appears probable from Pliny, 
 that both those species of dials were in the Roman Forum. 
 
 p.sr, 1. 22. 
 In voice a Circe, and in jioison too. 
 
 This line Mr. Paine afterwards employed in tlie Invention 
 of Letters. 
 
 SONNET TO PHILENIA, 8cC. 
 
 This sonnet, notwithstanding the uncouth union of mercan- 
 tile phraseology with gallantry and rhyme, is marked by some 
 fine strains. The twelfth and thirteenth lines are eminently 
 beautiful. From the sincere admiration entertained by Mr. 
 Paine for the lady, to whom some of his best verses are ad- 
 dressed, he seldom failed to derive inspiration. 
 
 p. 140, 1.20. 
 When prudish Sanctity congeals the soul. 
 This verse I suspect is far from being universally true. 
 Eloisas are still found in convents. 
 
448 SrOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 141, 1. 8. 
 
 And fondly lOoos the ramboiV'inantled Da7ne. 
 
 Milton in his Christmas Hymn xv. says 
 
 Truth and justice then 
 
 Will down return to men, 
 
 Orb'd in a rainbow, and like glories wearing 
 
 Mercy will sit between, &c. 
 
 Such is the reading of the edition of 1 673 ; in the edition of 
 1645 it stood thus 
 
 Th' enamell'd arras of the rainbow wearlngo 
 
 p. 142,1,8. 
 
 iVhere^er she visits^ Spring Jlorescent reigns. 
 Florescent bears Mr. Paine's die : it does not want analogy. 
 
 p. 42, 1. 10. 
 She moves-^the Goddess by her gait is known. 
 
 vera incessu patuit Dea. Vir^l 1, ^n. 405. 
 
 Vera Dea is a phrase, worthy of notice ; instead of strength- 
 ening, it weakens the impression. 
 
 p. 143, 1. 12. 
 
 Would trust so base an applicant a stiver^ 
 
 . Applicant is an ai-rant Americanism. Mr. Paine was not even 
 scrupulous, although an author, who writes with the hope of 
 outliving his tomb, should be fastidious in the choice of his 
 words. He should never forget the only maxim, which has 
 come down to us, of Caesar's book on Analogy. 
 
 p. 143, 1.23. 
 
 And drag the limping legs of Rhyme., slow, lin-ge-riiig out, 
 
 The whole stanza is well turned ; but this line is remarkably 
 apt ; the alliteration helps to impede its motion. With too 
 much bitterness there is blended in this piece no inconsiderable 
 portion of legitimate satire. 
 
MISCELLAISTEOUS POEMS. 449 
 
 p. 145, 1. 1. 
 Though all my "/zzi^s" not one recruiter drew. 
 
 jRecruite?; if it were an English word, would not mean a 
 ne7v soldier, but the recruiting officer. It is painful to find so 
 many, (I have noted but few) unauthorised words in the works 
 of a man, whose reading, though desultory and capricious, 
 was certainly various and extensive. Bvit this various and 
 extensive reading vitiated his style. Except Shakespeare and 
 Dryden, thei'e was scarcely an English poet, whom Mr. Paine 
 cared to own. Of Milton he was not indeed shamelessly ignor- 
 ant ; but his acquaintance with the Paradise Lost was by 
 no means such, as one might have expected. With Pope's 
 splendour and sweetness he was without doubt deeply 
 impressed, but he seldom imitates his delicious melody or the 
 calm and equable cm'rent of sound sense, which flow^s through 
 every page of that fine poet and moralist. 
 
 Mr. Paine was eager for American publications ; and some 
 times, I fear, suffered even Dryden and Shakespeare to be 
 jostled out of his mind Ijy the strenuous and Avell-compacted 
 dulness of a certain diplomatick poet ; the name of whose 
 burly quarto is now not unaptly given to the heaviest and 
 most unwieldy species of ordnance. 
 
 p. 147, 1. 5. sqq. 
 
 T'U)0 rival Zephyrs, knights of air. 
 
 The Rosicrucian system, as developed by Pope, in the fairest 
 issue of his fancy, probably gave the author this idea. 
 
 PRIZE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Having during his last years subjected this poem to a severe 
 revision, it will be found that Mr. Paine, besides enlarging it, 
 has bestowed on the Prize Prologue, as here printed, more 
 than his usual care. None indeed of his productions appears 
 to have shared so largely in his affection ; and his manuscripts 
 shew that every verse, of the additions at least, was tlie fruit 
 of the most patient and laborious diligence. A few of the 
 various readings I shall be excused for exhibiting. 
 57 
 
450 NOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 152, 1. 25, 26, 
 
 Aow, Timers grey eve, serene nvith lingering day, 
 Sheds o'er thy wrecks his sad, sefiulchral ray. 
 
 After this couplet, which, though a little incongruous, is 
 exact enough to awaken a still and sacred melancholy, such 
 as the view of modern Athens cannot but excite in every polite 
 scholar, Mr. Paine had inserted this distich ; 
 
 With lig'ht's last tinge religion's shadows fly 
 And lorn thy Genius roams the flickering sky. 
 
 Dr. Johnson's remarks on the tragedy of Macbeth, furnished 
 the hint of the first line. Flickering can hardly be wrested to 
 the use, here made of it. 
 
 p. 152, 1.28. 
 Choaked with thy gods, thy -vexed Pyraeus roars. 
 
 The Piraeus (for so it should have been spelt) was the har- 
 bour of Athens. Mr. Paine is indebted to Pope ; 
 
 Streets pav'd with statues, Tyber choak'd with gods. 
 
 As applied to a river, the metaphor is happy : it does not 
 however accomodate itself with equal felicity to a Basin* 
 Pope remembered Virgil. 
 
 gemei'ent que repleti 
 
 Amnes, nee reperire viam atque eyolvere posset 
 li\ mare se Zanthus. 
 
 p. 153,1. 4. 
 And hermit Silence nvorshijis there alone. 
 This line, as first written, stood thus, 
 
 And brooding silence worships there alone. 
 
 Brooding was succeeded by barbarous ; barbarous gave way 
 to pious, and pious at last resigned its place to hermit. 
 
 Hermit silence reminds one of Collins, and savours of his 
 best inanner. It may here be remarked that the epistle to 
 Sir Thomas Hanmer, on his edition of Shakespeare, was familiar 
 to Mr. Paine, and he has not hesitated to avail himself of those 
 charming verses. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 451 
 
 The whole passage, of which the line at the head of this note 
 makes a part, is highly poetical. It is hardly possible to read 
 it, without feeling that sort of delight, which is the more rav- 
 ishing, for being mingled and chastised by a mild and pensive 
 melancholy. 
 
 p. 153, 1.14. 
 
 Sits black Des/iair, while pagan Wonder reigns, 
 With this line Mr. Paine could not easily satisfy himself, 
 I find it in these different foi'ms. It first stood thus : 
 
 Dumb Wonder sits and blank Oblivion reigns. 
 It was then altered to 
 
 Dumb Ruin sits and pagan Wonder reigns. 
 
 then to 
 then to 
 then to 
 
 Dumb Slumber sits and pagan Wonder reigns. 
 In brooding Silence pagan Wonder reigns. 
 
 Mute Ruin sits and barbarous Wonder reigns. 
 then the couplet was new modelled thus : 
 
 O'er thy proud cenotaphs and gorgeous domes, 
 Dumb Ruin sits and pagan Wonder roams. 
 
 at last, however, the second line took its present form. 
 p.l53, 1. 27. 
 Could gently touch the film, that made thee blind.. 
 Pope's Sacred Pastoral was in Mr. Paine's mind. After 
 making all due allowances for the fervour of a youthful fancy, 
 this line, I fear, is indefensible. Mr. Paine cannot shelter 
 himself behind the authority of Drydcn. That great poet, as 
 he struggled into notice during the Usurpation, Avas obliged 
 to worry himself forward by canting, (such was the folly of 
 the day,) in a strain, sometimes little short of open blasphemy, 
 and always bordering on careless irl'everence. Pope, for the 
 like offence, has not escaped without reproof. Dr. Johnson 
 dismisses the critick, and becomes a moral censor, when he 
 says, " that it is a mode of merriment, which a good man 
 dreads for its profaneness, and a witty man disdains for its 
 easiness and vulgarity." 
 
452 :^OTES TO THE 
 
 p.l54, 1. 21. 
 
 In vain thy Epick heroes wake with rage. 
 
 The antitheses, if they may be so called, of which this par* 
 agraph consists, are awkwardly managed. 
 
 p.l55, 1. 7. 
 Dear wild of Genius ! o'er thy raouldering scene. 
 
 This line was first written 
 
 Wild -waste of Genius, o'er thy mouldering scene. 
 
 It is hardly to be pardoned, that Mr. Paine did not, before 
 he past to Rome, attempt an analysis of the respective charac- 
 ters of the tragick triumvirate of Athens, and the authors of 
 the old and new comedy. Brumoy might easily have supplied 
 the materials. The dramatick poets of Rome ought not to have- 
 been forgotten. France too, as well as England, has contrib- 
 uted some fine pieces to the stage ; but although it is known 
 that he intended to introduce the English dramatists, Mr. 
 Paine seems never to have suspected that his prologue, instead 
 of being more, would be less complete, if admitting Shakes- 
 peare, and Johnson, and Dryden, he neglected Coniielle, 
 and Racine, and Moliere,and Terence, and Plautus,and Seneca, 
 and Euripedes, and Sophocles, and ^schylus, together with 
 Aristophanes, and Menander, and other comick poets, who are 
 known to us only by their imitators, 
 
 p.l51, 1. 11. sq. 
 
 Augustan Rome^ with sad, firofthetick eye^ 
 Seheld her em f lire circle round the sky. 
 
 Thus written in one of the M. S. S. ; 
 
 Kome o'er the g-lobe beheld her pennons flj'. 
 Yet saw her realm expand with trembling eye. 
 
 The last line is altered, having stood thus : 
 
 Yet saw her empire spread with trembling eye. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 453 
 
 p.l56, 1.9. 
 The Globe's proud butcher grew humanehj brave. 
 It cannot be questioned that, while Mr. Paine was writing 
 this line, one of Pope's verses in the prologue to Cato, was 
 humming in his ears : 
 
 The World's great victor past unheeded by. 
 
 p. 156, 1. 25. sqq. 
 
 77ms set the sun of intellectual light. 
 
 It is difficult to say, which has contributed more to this 
 description, Ovid or Moses. After the last line of this para- 
 graph, one copy contains these lines : 
 
 But still reluctant sunk the Torrent's rage. 
 The alluvion chilled, and darkness veiled the age ; 
 No genial beam could penetrate the cloud. 
 Which mantled Science in a solemn shroud ; 
 While big-ot Folly, weak, morose, and blind, 
 Stalked through the vapour and dismayed the mind ; 
 The shapeless monster struck fantastick awe. 
 For darlmess magnified what Ten-our saw ; 
 
 Bacon alone 
 
 Flushed and went out, and all was dark again. 
 
 p.157,1.15. 
 
 But^ hark ! her mighty rival sweeps the strings ; 
 Sweet Avon, Jiow not '. 'tis thy Shakespeare si?igs ! 
 One copy presents this distich in another shape : 
 Roused from tlieir trance the slumbering muses start. 
 And see ! the sullen shades in tliunders part ! 
 Hark from the clouds some Ariel sweeps the strings ! 
 Sweet Avon, flow not, 'tis thy Shakespeare sings. 
 
 p.l57, 1. 28. 
 When Garrick sighed the Muse his last adieu. 
 Davies, m his life of that unrivalled actor, speaks of Gar- 
 rick, taking his leave of the stage, and tells us of the effect 
 produced by that ceremony on the house. Mr. Paine was 
 certainly fond of a Book, to which Johnson is thought to have, 
 given the finishing hand. 
 
454 NOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 157, 1.30. 
 When Siddons looks a nation iiito tears. 
 Never was that mistress of mimetick passion honoured by 
 a nobler compliment. The correspondent line is altogether 
 unworthy of the subject. Collins in his ode to Mercy, makes 
 these lines a part of the antistrophe : 
 
 Thy form, from out thy sweet abode, 
 O'ertook him on his blasted road. 
 And stopped his wheels and looked his rage away. 
 I see recoil his sable steeds. 
 That bore him swift to savag-e deeds ; 
 Thy tender-melting eyes they own 
 
 Collins, I have little doubt, was thinking, when he wrote these 
 tines, of Claudian's simile in his Magnes : 
 
 Sic Venus horrificum belli compescere Regem 
 
 Et vultu moUire solet ; cum sanguine praeceps 
 
 ^stuat, et strictis mucronibus asperat iras. 
 
 Sola feris occurrit equis, solvitque tumorem 
 
 Pectoris, et blando prxcordia temperat igni. 
 
 Pax animo tranquilla datur ; pugnasque calentes 
 
 Ueserit, et rutilas declinat in oscula cristas. 
 
 p.l58, 1.12. 
 Peace rolls luxurious in her dove-drawn car. 
 Collins, as he furnishes War with vultures, represents Peace 
 as drawn by turtles. Sparrotvs, according to Sappho, and 
 sivans, if we may believe Hoi^ace, are joined to the car of 
 Venus. 
 
 p.l58, 1. 22. 
 jin angel wanders in a fiilgrim's guise. 
 Here is another allusion to the Scripture ; considering the 
 purpose, to which it is made subservient, it can hardly be 
 excused. 
 
 p. 160, 1. 3. 
 ji Terence rise, in chariest char7ns serene. 
 -Chary is a word so rarely used, that it requires explanation. 
 It means, as explained by Johnson, careful, cautious, i^c^ 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 455 
 
 Beside Carew, whose authority is of little weight, the Diction- 
 ary contains a quotation from Shakespeare : 
 
 " the chariest maid is pi-odigal enough 
 
 If she unmask her beauty to the moon." 
 
 p. 164,1.3. 
 
 With rising sun, the swain his course reneived. 
 
 The article might have found its place in this line, if, instead 
 
 of rising, Mr. Paine had wiitten new ; With the new sun. To 
 
 this alteration the last word of the line is far from being an 
 
 objection. 
 
 p. 164, 1.26. 
 
 Who value lore, as antiquaries rust. 
 Altered from the first edition, which stood thus, 
 Who value science only for its rust. 
 Popes verses to Addison, occasioned by his delightful dialogue 
 on medals, begot this line. Pope speaks of certain antiquita- 
 tians, (such persons are so called by a great master of English 
 eloquence, to distinguish them from antiquaries, whose pur- 
 suits are by no means such, as to warrant any other language 
 than that of sincere respect,) who cared little for the inscrip- 
 tion, if it were to be recovered by disturbing the fireciou^ 
 arugo. They, he says, 
 
 Th' inscription value, but the rust adore. 
 
 p. 165, 1.5. 
 
 The barbarous Rhine now blends its classick name. 
 
 In the first edition the four following lines concluded this 
 paragraph. 
 
 In morn of modern days, a brighter name. 
 
 The world's great genius has eclipsed your fame ! 
 
 Sovereign of art, inventions noblest son. 
 
 He claims the bays, which every Art has won. 
 
 p. 165, 1. 15. sqq. 
 
 Egyptian shrubs, in hands of cook or Jiriest. 
 
 These four lines are debased by an attempt at unseasonable 
 %vit. 
 
456 KOTE TO THE 
 
 p. 165, 1. 19. sqq. 
 The ancient scribe^ employed by bards divine. 
 
 Alliteration is seldom more adroitly managed, than in the 
 three succeeding lines. 
 
 p. 165, 1.28. 
 The fiinioned volume sfireads to all mankind. 
 Pinioned is an equivoque. Winged had been better. Milton, 
 it is remarkable, uses ivinged as two syllables and as one in 
 the same line. Perhaps Mr. Paine was thinking of Homer's 
 
 p. 166, 1. 12. 
 The world who butchered^ or the world who taught. 
 Of this construction young poets are ready to avail them- 
 selves ; it may be doubted whether it conforms to any English 
 idiom. 
 
 p. 166, 1. 14. 
 
 To burst the cearments of each buried age. 
 
 From Hamlet's address to his father's ghost. The figure is 
 supported in the following lines with great spirit. The sun- 
 less and trophied sepulchi'e of time is an awful image. 
 
 p.l67, 1.14. 
 Mre fettered Type from dread Bastile was led. 
 This personification, to say nothing of it, as suggesting at 
 once the idea of some swart and shrivelled pressman, just 
 escaped from the jail to which his libellous paper had sent 
 him, is extremely hard. It had been Irss objectionable, if the 
 prosody would have admitted the article, which, although its 
 omission in easy and doggerel verse, is always indulged and 
 sometimes demanded, can never be spared from the higher 
 forms of English harmony. 
 
 p,16r, 1. 23. 
 
 In vain di Gama traced the orient way. 
 
 This, and the five succeeding lines, are added since the first 
 edition. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 4ST 
 
 168,1.20. 
 
 Green be the tombs tvhere sleep, her fiatriot hosts. 
 
 Altered from the first edition, where it has this form : 
 Long bloom the meed of her enlightened hosts. 
 
 p.l69, 1.1. 
 What though no wave Pactolian laves her shore. 
 Here is Sir John Denham's Thames again. After the next 
 line, the first edition closes this paragraph with, 
 
 Yet she has mines, which need no rod to trace ; 
 Search not her bosom, but survey her face. 
 
 These lines are not lost, however ; they are wrought into 
 the new verses, which follow. 
 
 p.170, 1.12. , 
 
 And kills the oak, whose leaf it could not start. 
 
 So in his Ode for 4th July, 1806 : 
 
 For oft a worm destroys an oak. 
 Whose leaf that worm would bury. 
 
 And again, in his Ode for the same festival, 1811 : 
 
 Base submission inviting indignity and plunder. 
 
 Like a worm, kills an oak, which should have braved the thunder. 
 
 p.170, 1.24. 
 The sun, that warms a monkey, breeds ajiy. 
 From Pope : 
 
 The fur, that warms a monarch, wanned a beai", 
 
 p.l73, 1.12. 
 And the vast alcove of Creation blaze. 
 
 The conclusion of Campbell's Pleasures of Hope somewhat 
 resembles the closing lines of this poem. Milton's JYatura 
 non fiati senium winds off with these lines : 
 
 Sic denique in sevum 
 
 Ibit cunctarum series justissima rerum ; 
 Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, late 
 Circumplexa polos, et vasti culmina caeli ; 
 Tngentique rogo flagi'abit machina mundi- 
 It is not among the weakest proofs of his greatness, that the 
 meretricious rhetorick, which has so often wreathed itself about 
 58 
 
458 NOTES TO THE 
 
 his fame, and fondled on his memory with a drivelling tender- 
 ness, has never brought into suspicion the virtues or talents 
 of General Washington. Notwithstanding the stale and vapid 
 libations, which are yearly poured out at his tomb, his shield 
 is still bright and unsullied ; the vapours sent up by those 
 thankless sacrifices dare not settle on its orb. 
 
 p.l77, 1.8. sq. 
 Which guides a comet.) while it moulds a tear. 
 Here is another imitation of Rogers's fine verses. 
 
 p.l78, 1.16. 
 
 A motley Pantheon of birds and beasts. 
 A tame and slovenly line. 
 
 p.ir9, 1.10. 
 
 Cobivebbed around nvith many a mouldy lie. 
 Into this verse are compressed four lines of the Invention 
 
 of Letters : 
 
 In yon drear garret. Faction's dai'k recess. 
 Her nightly daemons load the groaning press. 
 With cobwebs hung, she rubs her sleepless eyes. 
 While Norfolk spiders weave her half spun lies. 
 
 p. 1 79, 1.15. 
 
 All join to shift Life's ver si-coloured scenes. 
 
 Johnson's many-coloured, in his Drury-lane prologue, had, 
 
 been much better than vei^si-coloured, which is not analogically 
 
 compounded. 
 
 p.l79, 1. 26. 
 
 To nvield a snuff-box, or enact a sigh. 
 
 There is much point in the phi'ase to enact a sigh.. 
 
 p.180, 1.2. 
 Grave, nvithout sense ; o' erflotoing, yet not full. 
 Sir John Denham qnce more. 
 
 pol80, 1. 4. 
 Wrinkled in Latin, and in Greek fourscore. 
 This line exemplifies one of the nicest idioms of the English 
 language. It gives us Horace's insenuit libris et curis. in a ver^ 
 terse, though somewhat liberal, version.. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS TOEMS. 459 
 
 p. 82,1. 18. 
 Let Fiction's brokers^ bards and tombstones^ tell. 
 There is something very quaint in the coupling of tomb- 
 stones and bards, and making them the broliers of fiction. 
 
 p. 182, 1,25. 
 
 The knee adoring^ and the stolen kiss. 
 
 Stolen^ in verse should never loiter into two syllables. There 
 
 is great spirit in this description of a belle of Plato's age. 
 
 Nor did Mr. Paine's fervour forsake him, while describing the 
 
 miser. 
 
 p. 184, 1.28. 
 
 Ai've gently murmurs^ and. the rough Rhone roars. 
 Here is another good specimen of the sound echoing to 
 the sense, especially in the last member of the sentence, the 
 three last words of Avhicli begin with an asperated liquid, 
 which is followed by the fullest of the vowels. 
 
 p. 186, 1. 14. 
 Sees all her frost-%vork castles melt away. 
 Mr. Paine alludes to the Ice palace of the Russian empress, 
 which affords, after a charming description, so melancholy a 
 reflection to the pensive Cowper. 
 
 p. 187,1.4. 
 The sun of Glory shines but on the tomb. 
 Pope, in his imitation of the epistle to Augustus, says. 
 
 Those suns of Glory please not till they set. 
 Gray, in his Elegy in the country church-yard, says 
 
 The paths of Glory lead but to the tomb. 
 From Gray and Pope, by nearly equal contributions, Mr. 
 Paine levied this verse. Gray's is the last line of a stanza, 
 •which Proffessor Cooke, late of Cambridge, according to an 
 anonymous author of great celebrity, has rendered with won- 
 derful felicity into Greek verses. 
 
 p. 187, 1.10. 
 The Hyblcan melody of Merry's taste. 
 Of Hyblean the accent belongs to the penult ; but I do not 
 detach this verse merely to correct the false quantity. The 
 
460 • NOTES TO THE 
 
 Delia Cruscan melody is of a mawkish sweetness ; and in 
 pomp and splendour Merry is much below Darwin, who, while 
 he makes her more magnificent, gives to the muse of Merry 
 a loftier air, and a voice of wider and more flexible compass. 
 I know not whether Miss Sewai'd, however, did not confer 
 more on Darwin, than he took from Merry. 
 
 p. 189,1.1. 
 Stern power of justice.^ whose uplifted hand. 
 This and the four following lines are nobly -imagined. The 
 four last lines are not unworthy of Dryden. 
 
 p. 189, 1. 17. 
 
 With prisoned force insurging JVeptune^s reign. 
 Insurge is not English. Insurgent is hardly naturalized. 
 
 p.190,1. 29. sq. 
 Thy realm., maturing 'mid the feathery flighty 
 Of ages., trackless as the plumes of light. 
 A noble couplet. I doubt whether the volume contains two 
 lines of equal excellence. 
 
 p. 200,1.8. 
 
 O'er aiticks' noses, snoring in the pit. 
 From Shakespeare's description of the Fairy's Mid-wife. 
 
 p. 203, 1. 1. sq. 
 When cracked, like Rupert's drop, it mocks controul, 
 Butler, I suspect, first employed this simile. It occurs 
 somewhere in Hudibras. 
 
 201,1.1. 
 
 Crumped Vulcan deigned his Cyclop den to quit. 
 The word, intended to be used, is an adjective crump, and 
 not crumped with a participial termination. 
 
 p. 202,1.12. 
 jlnd nail him to the pillory of Fame. 
 In the heat and hurry of composition, incongruities of such 
 a kind as this line displays, will slip from the most accurate 
 pen. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 461 
 
 p. 203, 1. 8. 
 
 Who grin like monkeys^ or like fygers ^ght. 
 
 Such is the character of Frenchmen, as drawn more than 
 half a century ago, by the Arch Theomachist. Mr. Paine in 
 his oration before the young men of Boston, does not forget 
 Voltaire's description of his countrymen. 
 
 p. 203, 1. 22. 
 And smoothed Delilah's lap for Sampson^ s head. 
 Delilah, according to Milton, who was no unskilful Hebraist, 
 has the accent on the antepenult. 
 
 p. 204, 1. 4. 
 
 jind snatched the -victim from, the apostate priest. 
 
 Although the ceremonies, common to the whole heathen 
 world, are strangely confounded with the sacrificial rites 
 peculiar to the Jews, this imagery is magnificent ; it may, for 
 aught I know, be more magnificent from the confusion, 
 as it brings to the reader's recollection, perhaps, the finest 
 scene of the Athenian stage. It is difficult to read the pas- 
 sage, or even to recal it from the shadows that sport in the 
 twilight of a faint and glimmering memory, without such 
 tears as spring from admiration of the poet, blended with 
 sympathy for his heroine. The lines are deep and fresh in 
 the mind of every polite scholar. I shall not, therefore, trans- 
 cribe any part of that scene, which for nature and passsion, 
 even Shakespeai^e can hardly equal. Let it not be said, 
 that I wantonly disparage that illustrious dramatist. I doubt 
 whether his devoutest admirer, could approach the Avon with 
 a worthier homage, than he presents, who ventui^es to doubt 
 whether, in truth and pathos, Euripides be superiour to 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 p. 204, 1. 18. 
 Rubs garlick in her eyes, and goes to church. 
 
 Every line, except the fourth, of this paragraph is vigorous 
 and piquant. Dryden is evidently imitated. 
 
462 NOTES TO THE 
 
 p. 206, 1. 15. 
 While teal's of rapture glitter on its leaves, 
 A fine thought, expressed Avith feeling and elegance, 
 p. 207, 1. 12. 
 Jsfor rules by -verse the prosody of nvoe. 
 Tickel's verses on Addison's death suggested this line, 
 p. 207,1. 16. 
 He speaks frovi nature, and he looks from soul. 
 Soul and mind, and other words of similar import, Mr. Paine 
 was always fond of employing in some dark andabstract sense. 
 The habit grew upon him, as he advanced in life. 
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE SOLDIER's DAUGHTER. 
 
 Few of Mr. Paine's effusion's are more easy and joyous, 
 
 than the Epilogue to the Soldier's Daughter. One of its 
 
 couplets, except that a monosyllable in time is drawn out to 
 
 a lazy dissyllable, is unusually felicitous. I allude to these lines, 
 
 Those eyes, that even freemen could enslave. 
 
 Will ligiit a race of vassds, to their grave. 
 
 p. 215, 1.8. 
 
 ./I tocth-pick Epilogue should lounge the city. 
 What is meant by a tooth-pick Epilogue it is hard to say. 
 p. 214, 1.24. 
 And every foundling bon mot knoivs papa. 
 This is a pretty thought, prettily conveyed, 
 p. 215,1. 13. sqq. 
 " The love-sick cook-?naid lisps-— hist, Ro7neo, hist." 
 Few poets can furnish finer lines than this paragraph con- 
 tains. One of the lines, I am sory to find, v/eakened and dis- 
 figured by an expletive, which for more than a century has not 
 dared to intrude itself into the heroick measure. The next 
 paragraph is delicate ; particularly the four last lines, which 
 have all th« tenderness and simplicity of the dorick pastoral, 
 p. 220, 1.25. 
 To fiine a death-tvatch in a mise7-'s chest. 
 Perhaps it would not be possible to inflict by poetry a heav- 
 ier or more appropriate punishment, than to condemn the 
 miser to do penance as a death-watch in his own empty coffers. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS". 463- 
 
 p. 22 1,1. 23. sq. 
 
 C-andid to censure.^ generous to commend. 
 
 In these two lines Mr. Paine seems to have taken no pains 
 to disguise the thought, or the phrase, or the rythm of Pope. 
 
 EPILOGUE TO THE POOR LODGER. 
 
 The Epilogue to the Poor Lodger, which as well, as the 
 Clergyman's Daughter, is one of our native plays, was spoken 
 by Mrs. Darley,who speaks in the ten first lirjes, as from herself, 
 to the audience. The gratitude of that interesting acti'ess 
 cannot be more sincere, than the pleasure, which her perform- 
 ance always excites. 
 
 p. 230, 1. 4. 
 
 That gallant form, which breathed a nation's mind. 
 
 Such abstraction, as this line exemplifies, does not easily ally 
 itself with poetry. 
 
 p. 230, 1.6. 
 
 But Victory writes his epitaph in tears. 
 
 Though it wants distinctness and consistency, this thought is 
 boldly personified. 
 
 p. 231, 1.3. 
 Jlnd o'er its cliffs to bid the barmer wave, 
 
 David's picture of Buonaparte crossing the Alps might 
 have occasioned this line. 
 
 p. 231,1. 8. 
 
 Where war had left no stone without a name. 
 
 This line is an almost literal version of a line of the Phars- 
 salia. 
 
 p. 234, 1.14. 
 
 Couched ambush listened in the deep morose. 
 The lui'king place is not less luckily imagined, than the 
 personification and posture of Ambush. 
 
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