Spar'd yet again th' ignobler for his fake.
And now his prowefs prov'd, and his fincere
Incurable obduracy evinc'd,
His rage grew cool; and, pleas'd perhaps t' have earn'd
So cheaply the renown of that attempt,
With looks of fome complacence he refum'd
His road, deriding much the blank amaze
Of good Evander, ftill where he was left
Fixt motionless, and petrified with dread.
So on they far'd; difcourfe on other themes
Enfuing, feem'd to obliterate the past,
And tamer far for fo much fury fhown,
(As is the courfe of rafh and fiery men)
The rude companion fmil'd, as if transform'd.
But t'was a tranfient calm. A ftorm was near,
An unfufpected storm. His hour was come.
The impious challenger of Pow'r divine
Was now to learn, that Heav'n though flow to wrath,
Is never with impunity defied.
His horse, as he had caught his master's mood, Snorting, and starting into sudden rage,
Unbidden, and not now to be controul'd,
Rush'd to the cliff, and having reach'd it, stood.
At once the fhock unfeated him; he flew
Sheer o'er the craggy barrier, and immers'd
Deep in the flood, found; when he fought it not,
The death he had deferv'd, and died alone.
So God wrought double justice; made the fool The victim of his own tremendous choice, And taught a brute the way to fafe revenge. I would not enter on my list of friends (Though grac'd with polish'd manners and fine fenfe,
Yet wanting fenfibility) the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
An inadvertent ftep may crush the fnail
That crawls at evening in the public path;
But he that has humanity, forewarn'd,
Will tread afide, and let the reptile live.
The creeping vermin, loathsome to the fight,
And charg'd perhaps with venom, that intrudes,
A vifitor unwelcome, into fcenes
Sacred to neatnefs and repofe, th' alcove,
The chamber, or refectory, may die:
A neceffary act incurs no blame.
Not fo, when held within their proper bounds,
And guiltless of offence, they range the air,
Or take their paftime in the fpacious field:
There they are privileg'd; and he that hunts
Or harms them there, is guilty of a wrong,
Disturbs th' œconomy of nature's realm,
Who, when the form'd, defign'd, them an abode.
The fum is this: If man's convenience, health,
Or fafety interfere, his rights and claims
Are paramount and must extinguish theirs.
Elfe they are all-the meanest things that are,
As free to live, and to enjoy that life,
As God was free to form them at the first,
Who, in his fov'reign wisdom, made them all.
Ye therefore who love mercy, teach your fons
To love it too. The fpring-time of our years
Is foon difhonour'd and defil'd in moft
By budding ills, that aík a prudent hand
To check them. But, alas! none fooner shoots,
If unreftrain'd, into luxuriant growth,
Than cruelty, most dev'lifh of them all.
Mercy to him that fhews it, is the rule
And righteous limitation of its act,
By which Heav'n moves in pard'ning guilty man;
And he that shows none, being ripe in years,
And confcious of the outrage he commits,
Shall feek it, and not find it in his turn.
Diftinguish'd much by reafon, and still more By our capacity of grace divine,
From creatures that exift but for our fake,
Which having ferv'd us, perifh, we are held
Accountable, and God, fome future day,
Will reckon with us roundly for th' abuse
Of what he deems no mean or trivial trust.
Superior as we are, they yet depend
Not more on human help, than we on theirs.
Their strength, or speed, or vigilance were given In fome are found
Such teachable and apprehenfive parts,
That man's attainments in his own concerns,
Match'd with th' expertness of the brutes in theirs,
Are oft-times vanquifh'd and thrown far behind.
Some fhew that nice fagacity of fmell,
And read with fuch difcernment, in the port
And figure of the man, his fecret aim,
That oft we owe our safety to a skill
We could not teach, and muft defpair to learn.
But learn we might, if not too proud to stoop
To quadrupede inftructors, many a good
And useful quality, and virtue too,
Rarely exemplified among ourselves.
Attachment never to be wean'd, or chang'd
By any change of fortune; proof alike
Against unkindness, absence, and neglect :
Fidelity, that neither bribe nor threat
Can move or warp; and gratitude for finall
And trivial favours, lafting as the life,
And glift'ning even in the dying eye.
Man praises man. Defert in arts or arms
Wins public honour; and ten thousand fit
Patiently present at a facred fong,
Commemoration-mad; content to hear
(Oh wonderful effect of mufic's pow'r!)
Meffiah's eulogy, for Handel's fake.
But lefs, methinks, than facrilege might ferve(For was it lefs, what heathen would have dar'd
To ftrip Jove's ftatue of his oaken wreath,
And hang it up in honour of a man ?)
Much less might serve, when all that we design
Is but to gratify an itching ear,
And give the day to a musician's praise.
Remember Handel? Who that was not born
Deaf as the dead to harmony, forgets,
Or can, the more than Homer of his age?
Yes we remember him; and while we praise
A talent fo divine, remember too
That His most holy book from whom it came
Was never meant, was never us'd before,
To buckram out the mem❜ry of a man.
But hufh!-the mufe perhaps is too fevere,
And with a gravity beyond the fize
And measure of the offence, rebukes a deed
Lefs impious than abfurd, and owing more
To want of judgment than to wrong defign:
So in the chapel of old Ely House,
When wand'ring Charles, who meant to be the third,
Had fled from William, and the news was fresh,
The fimple clerk, but loyal, did announce,
And eke did rear right merrily, two ftaves,
Sung to the praise and glory of King George.
-Man praises man, and Garrick's mem❜ry next,
When time hath somewhat meliów'd it, and made
The idol of our worship while he liv'd,
K 5
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