Fix'd in his farm, he soon display'd his skill
In small-boned lambs, the horse-shoe, and the drill;
From these he rose to themes of nobler kind,
And show'd the riches of a fertile mind;
To all around their visits he repaid,
And thus his mansion and himself display'd.
His rooms were stately, rather fine than neat,
And guests politely call'd his house a seat;
At much expense was each apartment graced,
His taste was gorgeous, but it still was taste:
In full festoons the crimson curtains fell,
The sofas rose in bold elastic swell;
Mirrors in gilded frames display'd the tints
Of glowing carpets and of colour'd prints;
The weary eye saw every object shine,
And all was costly, fanciful, and fine.

As with his friends he pass'd the social hours,
His generous spirit scorn'd to hide its powers;
Powers unexpected, for his eye and air
Gave no sure signs that eloquence was there;
Oft he began with sudden fire and force,
As loath to lose occasion for discourse;
Some, 'tis observed, who feel a wish to speak,
Will a due place for introduction seek;
On to their purpose step by step they steal,
And all their way, by certain signals, feel;
Others plunge in at once, and never heed

If he pursues it, here and there it slides;
He would collect it, but it more divides;
This part and this he stops, but still in vain,
It slips aside, and breaks in parts again;
Till, after time and pains, and care and cost,
He finds his labour and his object lost.

"But most it grieves me,(friends alone are round,)
To see a man in priestly fetters bound:
Guides to the soul, these friends of Heaven contrive,
Long as man lives, to keep his fears alive;
Soon as an infant breathes, their rites begin;
Who knows not sinning, must be freed from sin
Who needs no bond, must yet engage in vows;
Who has no judgment, must a creed espouse:
Advanced in life, our boys are bound by rules,
Are catechised in churches, cloisters, schools,
And train'd in thraldom to be fit for tools:
The youth grown up, he now a partner needs,
And lo! a priest, as soon as he succeeds.
What man of sense can marriage rites approve?
What man of spirit can be bound to love?
Forced to be kind! compell'd to be sincere!
Do chains and fetters make companions dear?
Prisoners indeed we bind; but though the bond
May keep them safe, it does not make them fond:
The ring, the vow, the witness, license, prayers,
All parties know! made public all affairs!

Whose turn they take, whose purpose they im- Such forms men suffer, and from these they date

pede;

Resolved to shine, they hasten to begin,

Of ending thoughtless-and of these was Gwyn.
And thus he spake-

"It grieves me to the soul
To see how man submits to man's control;
How overpower'd and shackled minds are led
In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred;
The coward never on himself relies,
But to an equal for assistance flies;
Man yields to custom as he bows to fate,
In all things ruled-mind, body, and estate;
In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply

To them we know not, and we know not why;
But that the creature has some jargon read,
And got some Scotchman's system in his head;
Some grave impostor, who will health ensure,
Long as your patience or your wealth endure;
But mark them well, the pale and sickly crew,
They have not health, and can they give it you?
These solemn cheats their various methods choose;
A system fires them, as a bard his muse:
Hence wordy wars arise; the learn'd divide,
And groaning patients curse each erring guide.
Next, our affairs are govern'd, buy or sell,
Upon the deed the law must fix its spell;
Whether we hire or let, we must have still
The dubious aid of an attorney's skill;
They take a part. in every man's affairs,
And in all business some concern is theirs ;
Because mankind in ways prescribed are found
Like flocks that follow on a beaten ground,
Each abject nature in the way proceeds,
That now to sheering, now to slaughter leads.
"Should you offend, though meaning no offence,
You have no safety in your innocence;
The statute broken then is placed in view,
And men must pay for crimes they never knew:
Who would by law regain his plunder'd store,
Would pick up fallen mercury from the floor;

A deed of love begun with all they hate :
Absurd! that none the beaten road should shun,
But love to do what other dupes have done.

"Well, now your priest has made you one of
twain,

Look you for rest? Alas! you look in vain.
If sick, he comes; you cannot die in peace,
Till he attends to witness your release;
To vex your soul, and urge you to confess
The sins you feel, remember, or can guess :
Nay, when departed, to your grave he goes
But there indeed he hurts not your repose.

"Such are our burdens; part we must sustain,
But need not link new grievance to the chain
Yet men like idiots will their frames surround
With these vile shackles, nor confess they're bound:
In all that most confines them they confide,
Their slavery boast, and make their bonds their

pride;

E'en as the pressure galls them, they declare,
(Good souls!) how happy and how free they are!
As madmen, pointing round their wretched cells,
Cry, lo! the palace where our honour dwells.'

"Such is our state: but I resolve to live
By rules my reason and my feelings give;
No legal guards shall keep enthrall'd my mind,
No slaves command me, and no teachers blind.
"Tempted by sins, let me their strength defy,
But have no second in a surplice by ;
No bottle-holder, with officious aid,
To comfort conscience, weaken'd and afraid;
Then if I yield, my frailty is not known;
And, if I stand, the glory is my own.

"When Truth and Reason are our friends, we

seem

Alive! awake!-the superstitious dream.

"O! then, fair Truth, for thee alone I seek, Friend to the wise, supporter of the weak: From thee we learn whate'er is right and just; Forms to despise, professions to distrust;

H

Creeds to reject, pretensions to deride,
And, following thee, to follow none beside."

Such was the speech; it struck upon the ear
Like sudden thunder, none expect to hear.
He saw men's wonder with a manly pride,
And gravely smiled at guest electrified:
"A farmer this!" they said; "O! let him seek
That place where he may for his country speak;
On some great question to harangue for hours,
While speakers hearing, envy nobler powers!"

Wisdom like this, as all things rich and rare,
Must be acquired with pains, and kept with care;
In books he sought it, which his friends might view,
When their kind host the guarding curtain drew.
There were historic works for graver hours,
And lighter verse, to spur the languid powers;
There metaphysics, logic there had place;
But of devotion not a single trace-
Save what is taught in Gibbon's florid page,
And other guides of this inquiring age;
There Hume appear'd, and near, a splendid book
Composed by Gay's good lord of Bolingbroke:
With these were mix'd the light, the free, the vain,
And from a corner peep'd the sage Tom Paine :
Here four neat volumes Chesterfield were named,
For manners much and easy morals famed ;
With chaste Memoirs of Females, to be read
When deeper studies had confused the head.

Such his resources, treasures where he sought
For daily knowledge till his mind was fraught:
Then when his friends were present, for their use
He would the riches he had stored produce;
He found his lamp burn clearer, when each day
He drew for all he purposed to display:
For these occasions, torth his knowledge sprung,
As mustard quickens on a bed of dung;
All was prepared, and guests allow'd the praise,
For what they saw he could so quickly raise.
Such this new friend; and when the year came
round,

The same impressive, reasoning sage was found;
Then, too, was seen the pleasant mansion graced
With a fair damsel-his no vulgar taste;
The neat Rebecca-sly, observant, still,
Watching his eye, and waiting on his will;
Simple yet smart her dress, her manners meek,
Her smiles spoke for her, she would seldom speak;
But watch'd each look, each meaning to detect,
And (pleased with notice) felt for all neglect.

With her lived Gwyn a sweet harmonious life,
Who, forms excepted, was a charming wife :
The wives indeed, so made by vulgar law,
Affected scorn, and censured what they saw;
And what they saw not, fancied; said 'twas sin,
And took no notice of the wife of Gwyn:
But he despised their rudeness, and would prove
Theirs was compulsion and distrust, not love;
Fools as they were! could they conceive that
rings

46

And parsons' blessings were substantial things?"
They answered "Yes;" while he contemptuous
spoke

Of the low notions held by simple folk;
Yet, strange that anger in a man so wise
Should from the notions of these fools arise;
Can they so vex us, whom we so despise ?

Brave as he was, our hero felt a dread

If to his bosom fear a visit paid,

It was, lest he should be supposed afraid;
Hence sprang his orders; not that he desired
The things when done; obedience he required;
And thus, to prove his absolute command,
Ruled every heart, and moved each subject hand,
Assent he ask'd for every word and whim,
To prove that he alone was king of him.

The still Rebecca, who her station knew,
With ease resign'd the honours not her due;
Well pleased, she saw that men her board would

grace,

And wish'd not there to see a female face;
When by her lover she his spouse was styled,
Polite she thought it, and demurely smiled;
But when he wanted wives and maidens round
So to regard her, she grew grave and frown'd:
And sometimes whisper'd, "Why should you respect
These people's notions, yet their forms reject?"

Gwyn, though from marriage bond and fetter free,
Still felt abridgement in his liberty;
Something of hesitation he betray'd,

| And in her presence thought of what he said.
Thus fair Rebecca, though she walk'd astray,
His creed rejecting, judged it right to pray;
To be at church, to sit with serious looks,
To read her Bible and her Sunday books:
She hated all those new and daring themes,
And call'd his free conjectures, "devil's dreams:"
She honour'd still the priesthood in her fall,
And claim'd respect and reverence for them all;
Call'd them "of sin's destructive power the foes,
And not such blockheads as he might suppose."
Gwyn to his friends would smile, and sometimes say
""Tis a kind fool, why vex her in her way?"
Her way she took, and still had more in view,
For she contrived that he should take it too.
The daring freedom of his soul, 'twas plain,
In part was lost in a divided reign;
A king and queen, who yet in prudence swayed
Their peaceful state, and were in turn obey'd.

Yet such our fate, that when we plan the best,
Something arises to disturb our rest:
For though in spirits high, in body strong,
Gwyn something felt-he knew not what-

wrong;

He wish'd to know, for he believed the thing,
If unremoved, would other evil bring:

'She must perceive, of late he could not eat,
And when he walked, he trembled on his feet;
He had forebodings, and he seem'd as one
Stopp'd on the road, or threaten'd by a dun;
He could not live, and yet, should he apply
To those physicians-he must sooner die."

The mild Rebecca heard with some disdain,
And some distress, her friend and lord complain:
His death she fear'd not, but had painful doubt
What his distemper'd nerves might bring about;
With power like hers she dreaded an ally,
And yet there was a person in her eye;—
She thought, debated, fix'd; “Alas!" she said,
"A case like yours must be no more delay'd:
You hate these doctors, well! but were a friend
And doctor one, your fears would have an end:
My cousin Mollet-Scotland holds him now-
Is above all men skilful, all allow ;
Of late a doctor, and within a while

Lest those who saw him kind should think him led; He means to settle in this favour'd isle ;

While hers, though teasing, boasted to be kind,
And she, resenting, to be all resign'd.

The dame was sick, and when the youth applied For her consent, she groan'd, and cough'd and cried :

Talk'd of departing, and again her breath
Drew hard, and cough'd, and talk'd again of death:
"Here you may live, my Dinah! here the boy
And you together my estate enjoy ;"
Thus to the lovers was her mind express'd,
Till they forebore to urge the fond request.
Servant, and nurse, and comforter, and friend,
Dinah had still some duty to attend ;

But yet their walk, when Rupert's evening call
Obtain'd an hour, made sweet amends for all;
So long they now each other's thoughts had known,
That nothing seem'd exclusively their own;
But with the common wish, the mutual fear,
They now had travell'd to their thirtieth year.
At length a prospect open'd; but, alas!
Long time must yet, before the union, pass;
Rupert was call'd in other clime, t' increase
Another's wealth, and toil for future peace;
Loath were the lovers; but the aunt declared
"Twas fortune's call, and they must be prepared;
"You now are young, and for this brief delay,
And Dinah's care, what I bequeath will pay ;
All will be yours; nay, love, suppress that sigh;
The kind must suffer, and the best must die:"
Then came the cough, and strong the signs it gave
Of holding long contention with the grave.

The lovers parted with a gloomy view,
And little comfort but that both were true;
He for uncertain duties doom'd to steer,
While hers remain'd too certain and severe.

Letters arrived, and Rupert fairly told
"His cares were many, and his hopes were cold;
The view more clouded, that was never fair,
And love alone preserved him from despair :"
In other letters, brighter hopes he drew,

Now the grave niece partook the widow's cares,
Look'd to the great and ruled the small affairs;
Saw clean'd the plate, arranged the china show,
And felt her passion for a shilling grow:
Th' indulgent aunt increased the maid's delight,
By placing tokens of her wealth in sight;
She loved the value of her bonds to tell,
And spake of stocks, and how they rose and fell.
This passion grew, and gain'd at length such
sway,

That other passions shrank to make its way;
Romantic notions now the heart forsook,
She read but seldom, and she changed her book:
And for the verses she was wont to send,
Short was her prose, and she was Rupert's friend.
Seldom she wrote, and then the widow's cough,
And constant call, excused her breaking off;
Who, now oppress'd, no longer took the air,
But sate and dozed upon an easy chair.
The cautious doctor saw the case was clear,
But judged it best to have companions near;
They came, they reason'd, they prescribed-at last,
Like honest men, they said their hopes were past;
Then came a priest-'tis comfort to reflect,
When all is over, there was no neglect;
And all was over-by her husband's bones,
The widow rests beneath the sculptured stones,
That yet record their fondness and their fame,
While all they left the virgin's care became ;
Stocks, bonds, and buildings ;—it disturb'd her rest,
To think what load of troubles she possess'd:
Yet, if a trouble, she resolved to take
Th' important duty, for the donor's sake;
She too was heiress to the widow's taste,
Her love of hoarding and her dread of waste.
Sometimes the past would on her mind intrude,
And then a conflict full of care ensued;
The thoughts of Rupert on her mind would press,
His worth she knew, but doubted his success;
Of old she saw him heedless; what the boy

"His friends were kind, and he believed them Forebore to save, the man would not enjoy ;
true."

When the sage widow Dinah's grief descried,
She wonder'd much, why one so happy sigh'd:
Then bade her see how her poor aunt sustain'd
The ills of life nor murmur'd nor complain'd.
To vary pleasures, from the lady's chest
Were drawn the pearly string and tabby vest;
Beads, jewels, laces, all their value shown,
With the kind notice,-" They will be your own."
This hope, these comforts, cherish'd day by day,
To Dinah's bosom made a gradual way;
Till love of treasure had as large a part,
As love of Rupert, in the virgin's heart.
Whether it be that tender passions fail,
From their own nature, while the strong prevail;
Or whether avarice, like the poison tree,*
Kills all beside it, and alone will be;
Whatever cause prevail'd, the pleasure grew
In Dinah's soul, she loved the hoards to view;
With lively joy those comforts she survey'd,
And love grew languid in the careful maid.

Allusion is here made, not to the well known species of sumach, called the poison-oak, or toxicodendron, but to the upas, or poison tree of Java: whether it be real or imaginary, this is no proper place for inquiry. 12

Oft had he lost the chance that care would seize,
Willing to live, but more to live at ease:

Yet could she not a broken vow defend,
And Heaven, perhaps, might yet enrich her friend.
Month after month was pass'd, and all were

spent

In quiet comfort and in rich content:
Miseries there were, and woes the world around,
But these had not her pleasant dwelling found:
She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept,
And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept :
Thus pass'd the seasons, and to Dinah's board
Gave what the seasons to the rich afford;
For she indulged, nor was her heart so small,
That one strong passion should engross it all.

A love of splendour now with avarice strove,
And oft appeared to be the stronger love :
A secret pleasure fill'd the widow's breast,
When she reflected on the hoards possess'd;
But livelier joy inspired th' ambitious maid,
When she the purchase of those hoards display'd:
In small but splendid room she loved to see
That all was placed in view and harmony;
She much delight in every object found;
There, as with eager glance she look'd around,
While books devout were near her to destroy,
Should it arise, an overflow of joy.
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