TRUTH. Penfentur trutina. HOR. MAN AN on the dubious waves of error tofs'd,. His ship half founder'd and his compass loft, Sees far as human optics may command, A fleeping fog, and fancies it dry land: Spreads all his canvass, ev'ry finew plies, Pants for't, aims at it, enters it, and dies. Then farewell all felf-fatisfying schemes, His well-built fyftems, philofophic dreams, Deceitful views of future blifs, farewell! He reads his fentence in the flames of hell. Hard lot of man! to toil for the reward Of virtue, and yet lofe it-wherefore hard? He that would win the race, must guide his horfe Obedient to the customs of the course, Elfe Elfe, though unequall'd to the goal he flies, A meaner than himself shall gain the prize. Your wilful fuicide on God's decree. Oh how unlike the complex works of man, Legible only by the light they give, } Stand the foul-quick'ning words-BELIEVE AND LIVE. Too many, fhock'd at what should charm them most, Defpife the plain direction and are lost. Heav'n on fuch terms! they cry with proud disdain, Incredible, impoffible, and vain— Rebel because 'tis eafy to obey, And scorn, for its own fake, the gracious way. Some thought of immortality remains; The The reft too bufy or too gay, to wait (Such were the fins with which he charg'd his Lord) His virtues were his pride; and that one vice The felf-applauding bird, the peacock fee- Not Not fo the pheasant on his charms prefumes, The plea of works, as arrogant and vain, Than by the mere dissemblers feign'd respect.. } High in demand, though lowly in pretence,. Of all his conduct, this the genuine fenfeMy penitential stripes, my streaming blood Have purchas'd heaven, and prove my title good. Turn eastward now, and fancy fhall apply To your weak fight her telescopic eye. The Bramin kindles on his own bare head The facred fire, felf-torturing his trade; His voluntary pains, fevere and long, Would give a barb'rous air to British song; Nor grand inquifitor could worfe invent, Than he contrive to fuffer, well content. Which is the faintlier worthy of the two? Paft all difpute, yon anchorite fay you. Your fentence and mine differ. What's a name? I say the Bramin has the fairer claim. If fuff'rings, fcripture no where recommends, Devis'd by felf to answer felfish ends, Give fantship, then all Europe' must agree, Ten ftarveling hermits fuffer less than he. The truth is (if the truth may fuit your ear, And prejudice have left a paffage clear) Pride has attain'd its most luxuriant growth, And poifon'd every virtue in them both.. Pride may be pamper'd while the flesh grows lean; Humility may clothe an English Dean; |