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Hadst thou been born in this enlighten'd day,
Felt, as we feel, Taste's oriental ray,
Thy satire sure had given them both a stab,
Call'd Kent a Driveller, and the Nymph a Drak.
For what is Nature? Ring her changes round,
Her three flat notes are water, plants, and ground;
Prolong the peal, yet spite of all your clatter,
Thetediouschimeisstillground, plants, andwater.§
So, when some John his dull invention racks,
To rival Boodle's dinners, or Almack's;
Three uncouth legs of mutton shock our eyes,
Three roasted geese, three butter'd apple pies.
Come then, prolific art, and with thee bring
The charms that rise from thy exhaustless spring;
To Richmond come, for see untutor'd Brown
Destroys those wonders which were once thyown.
Lo, from his melon-ground the peasant slave
Has rudely rush'd, and levell'd Merlin's Cave;
Knock'd down the waxen Wizard, seis'd hiswand,
Transform'd to lawn what late was Fairy land;
And marr'd, with impious hand, each sweet de-
Ofstephen Duck and good Queen Caroline. [sign
Haste, bid yon livelong Terrace re-ascend,
Re-place each vista, straighten every bend;
Shut out the Thames, shall that ignoble thing
Approach the presence of great Ocean's King?
No! let Barbaric glories || feast his eyes,
August Pagodas round his palace rise,
And finish'd Richmond open to his view,
"A work to wonder at, perhaps a Kew."
Nor rest we here, but, at our magic call, Monkies shall climb our trees, and lizards crawl; Huge dogs of Tibit bark in yonder grove, Here parrots prate, there cats make cruel love;
Teach her, like thee, to gild her splendid song
With scenes of Yven-Ming, and sayings of
Like thee to scorn Dame Nature's simple fence;
Leap each ha ha of truth and common sense;
And, proudly rising in her bold career,
Demand attention from the gracious ear
Of him, whom we and all the word admit
Patron supreme of science, taste, and wit.
Does Envy doubt? Witness, ye chosen train!
Who breathe the sweets of his Saturnian reign;
Witness ye H*lls, ye J*ns*ns, Sc*ts, S*bb*s,
Hark to my call, for some of you have ears.
Let D**d H*e, from the remotest North,
In see-saw sceptic scruples hint his worth;
D**d, who there supinely deigns to lye
The fattest Hog of Epicurus' stye:
Tho' drunk with Gallie wine, and Gallic praise,
D**d shall bless old England's halcyon days;
The mighty Home, bemir'd in prose so long,
Again shall stalk upon the stilts of song:
While bold Mac-Ossian, wont in Ghosts to deal,
Bids candid Smollet from his coffin steal;
Bids Mallock quit his sweet Elysian rest,
Sunk in his St. John's philosophic breast,
And, like old Orpheus, make some strong effort
To come from hell and warble truth at Court.
One of the Imperial gardens at Pekin.
"Many trees, shrubs, and flowers," sayeth Li-Tsong, a Chinese author of great antiquity, “thrive best in low, moist situations; many on hills and mountains; some require a rich soil; but others will grow on clay, in sand, or even upon rocks, and in the water: to some a sunny exposition is necessary: but for others the shade is preferable. There are plants which thrive best in exposed situations, but in general shelter is requisite. The skilful gardener, to whom study and experience have taught these qualities, carefully attends to them in his operations, knowing that thereon depend the health and growth of his plants, and consequently the beauty of his plantations." Vide Diss. P. 77. The reader, I presume, will readily allow, that he never met with so much recondite truth, as this antient Chincse here exhibits.
Vide (if it be extant) a poem under this title, for which (or for the publication of Lord Balingbroke's philosophical writings) the person here mentioned received a considerable pension in the time of Lord B---t's administration.
This is the great and fundamental axiom, on which oriental taste is founded. It is therefore expressed here with the greatest precision, and in the identical phrase of the great original. The figurative terms, and even the explanatory simile, are entirely borrowed from Sir William's Dissertation. "Na❤ ture (says the Chinese, or Sir William for him) affords us but few materials to work with. Plants, ground, and water, are her only productions; and, though both the forms and arrangements of these may be varied to an incredible degree, yet they have but few striking varieties, the rest being of the nature of changes rung upon bells, which, though in reality different, still produce the same uniform kind of jingling; the variation being too minute to be easily perceived."--"Art must therefore supply the scantiness of Nature," &c. &c. page 14. And again, "Our larger works are only a repetition of h small ones, like the honest Bachelor's feast, which consisted in nothing but a multiplication of his own dinner ; three legs of mutton and turnips, three rousted grese, and three buttered apple pies." Preface, page 7.
"Where the gorgeous cast with richest hand
Showers on her kings Barbaric pearl and gold."
"In their lofty woods serpents and lizards of many beautiful sorts crawl upon the ground. Innumerable monkeys, cats, and parrots clamber upon the trees." Page 40. " In their lakes are many islands, some small, some large, among which are seen stalking along, the elephant, the rhinoceros, the dromedary, ostrich, and the giant baboon." Page 66. They keep, in their enchanted scenes, a surprising variety of monstrous birds, reptiles, and animals, which are tamed by it, and guarded by enormous dogs of Tibet, and Africar giants, in the habits of magicians,“ · Pagé
"Sometimes in this ro-
In some fair island will we turn to grass
(With the Queen's leave) her elephant and ass.
Giants from Africa shall guard the glades, [maids;
Where hiss our snakes, where sport our Tartar
Or, wanting these, from Charlotte Hayes we
Damsels alike adroit to sport and sting. [bring
Now, to our lawns of dalliance and delight
Join we the groves of horror and affright:
This to achieve no foreign aids we try ;
Thy gibbets, Bagshot*! shall our wants supply;
Hounslow whose heath sublimer terrors fills,
Shall with her gibbets lend her powder-mills.
Here, too, O King of Vengeancet, in thy fane,
Tremendous Wilkes shall rattle his gold chain‡;
And round that fane, on many a Tyburn tree,
Hang fragments dire of Newgate-history;
On this shall H*11*d's dying speech be read,
Here B-te's confession, and his wooden head;
While all the minor plunderers of the age,
(Too numerous far for this contracted page)
The R gy*ys-
-s§, Mungos, B*ds* ws there,
In straw-stuft effigy, shall kick the air.
But, say ye powers, who come when fancy calls,
Where shall our mimic London rear her walls?
The Eastern feature, Art must next produce:
Tho' not for present yet for future use,
Our sons some slave of greatness may behold,
Cast in the genuine Asiatic mould:
Who of three realms shall condescend to know
No more than he can spy from Windsor's brow; |
For Him, that blessing of a better time,
The Muse shall deal awhile in brick and lime;
Surpass the bold AAEAPI in design,
And o'er the Thames fling one stupendous line
Of marble arches, in a bridge, that cuts
From Richmond Ferry slant to Brentford Butts,
Brentford with London's charms will we adorn;
Brentford, the bishoprick of Parson Horne.
There at one glance, the royal eye shall meet
Each varied beauty of St. James's Street;
StoutT*b*ttheresballply with hackneychair*
And Patriot Betty fix her fruit-shop therett.
Like distant thunder, now the coach of state
Rolls o'erthebridge, that groansbeneathits weight;
The Court hath cross'd the stream; the sports
Now N**1 preaches of rebellion's sin : [begin,
And as the powers of his strong pathos rise,
Lo, brazen tears fall from Sir F**r's eyes ‡‡.
While skulking roundthe pews, thatbabe of grace,
Who ne'er before at sermon show'd his face,
SeeJemmyTwitcher shambles;stop,stop thief§§!
He's stol'n the E* of D*nb hs' handkerchief.
Let B*rr*t*n arrest him in mock fury,
And M**d hang the knave without a jury.
But hark! the voice of battle shouts from far,
The Jews and Macaronis are at war***: [stocks,
The Jews prevail, and, thundering from the
They seise, theybind, they circumcise†††C*sF*.
Fair Schw***n smiles the sport to see,
And all the Maids of Honor cry Te-he‡‡‡!
mantic excursion, the passenger finds himself in extensive recesses, surrounded with arbors of jessamine, vine, and roses: where beauteous Tartarean damsels, in loose transparent robes that flutter in the air, present him with rich wines, &c. and invite him to taste the sweets of retirement on Persian carpets, and beds of Camusakin down."
"Their scenes of terror are composed of gloomy woods, &c. Giblets, crosses, wheels, and the whole apparatus of torture are seen from the roads. Here too they conceal in cavities, on the summits of the highest mountains, foundries, lime-kilns, and glass-works, which send forth large volumes of flame, and continued columns of thick smoke, that give to these mountains the appearance of volcanos." Page 37. "Here the passenger from time to time is surprised with repeated shocks of electrical impulse; the earth trembles under by the power of confined air," &c. Page 39. Now to produce both these effects, viz. the appearance of volcanos and earthquakes, we have here submitted the occasional explosion of a powder-mill, which (if there be not too much simplicity in the contrivance) it is apprehended will at once answer all the purposes of lime-kilns and electrical machines, and imitate thunder and the explosion of canon into the bargain. Vide Page 40.
"In the most dismal recesses of the woods, are temples dedicated to the King of Vengeance, near. which are placed pillars of stone, with pathetic descriptions of tragical events; and many acts of cruelty perpetrated there by outlaws and robbers." Page 37.
This was written when Mr. Wilkes was Sheriff of London, and when it was to be feared he would rattle his chain a year longer as Lord Mayor.
$ Martins. The asterisms will be easily supplied.
"There is likewise in the same garden, viz. Yven-Ming Yven, near Pekin, a fortified town, with its ports, streets, public squares, temples, markets, shops, and tribunals of justice; in short, with every thing that is at Pekin, only on a smaller scale. In this town the Emperors of China, who are too much the slaves of their greatness to appear in public, and their women, who are secluded from it by custom, are frequently diverted with the hurry and bustle of the capital which is here represented, several times of the year, by the eunuchs of the palace." Page 32.
Sir William's enormous account of Chinese bridges, too long to be here inserted. Vide page 59. **"Some of these eunuchs personate porters." Page 32.
"Fruits and all sorts of refreshments are cried about the streets in this mock city." Page 35. "Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek." Milton.
SS" Neither are thieves, pickpockets, and sharpers forgot in these festivals; that noble profession is usually allotted to a good number of the most dextrous!" Vide ibid.
"The watch seises on the culprit." Vide ibid.
"He is conveyed before the judge, and sometimes severely bastinadoed." Ibid.
Quarrels happen- battles ensue." Ibid.
"Every liberty is permitted, there is no distinction of persons." Ibid.
"This is done to divert his Imperial Majesty, and the ladies of his train." Vide ibid.
Be these the rural pastiines that attend
Great B*nswk's leisure: these shall best unbend
His royal mind, whene'er, from state withdrawn,
He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn;
These shall prolong his Asiatic dream,
Tho' Europe's balance trembles on its beam.
And thou, Sir William! while thy plastic hand
Creates each wonder, which thy Bard has plann'd;
While, as thy art commands, obsequious rise
Whate'er can please, or frighten, or surprise,
Olet that Bard his Knight's protection claim,
And share, like faithful Sancho, Quixote's fame.
§ 143. Pleasures of Memory: a Poem.
By SAMUEL ROGERS, Esq.
Down by yon hazel copse, at evening blaz'd
The Gipsy's faggot—there we stood and gaz'd;
Gaz'd on her sun-burnt face with silent awe,
Her tatter'd mantle, and her hood of straw;
Her moving lips, her caldron brimming o'er;
The drowsy brood that on her back she bore,
Imps, in the barn with mousing owlet bred,
From rifled roost at nightly revel fed;
Whose dark eyes flash'd thro' locks of blackest
When in the breeze the distant watch-dog bay'd:
And heroes fled the Sybil's mutter'd call,
Whose elfin prowess scal'd the orchard-wall.
As o'er my palm the silver piece she drew,
And trac'd the line of life with searching view,
flow throbb'd my fluttering pulse with hopes
To learn the color of my future years!
Ah, then, what honest triumph flush'd my breast!
This truth once known-To bless is to be blest!
We led the bending beggar on his way;
(Bare with his feet, his tresses silver grey)
Sooth'd the keen pangs his aged spirit felt,
And on his tale with mute attention dwelt.
As in his scrip we dropt our little store,
And wept to think that little was no more,
He breath'd his prav'r; "Long may such good-
66 ness live!"
When not a distant taper's twinkling ray
Gleam'd o'er the furze to light him on his way;
When not a sheep-bell sooth'd his listening ear,
And the big rain-drops told the tempest near;
Then did his horse the homeward track descry.
The track that shunn'd his sad inquiring eye;
And win each wavering purpose to relent,
With warmth so mild, so gently violent,
That his charm'd hand the careless rein resign'd,
And doubts and terrors vanish'd from his mind.
Recall the traveller, whose alter'd form
Has borne the buffet of the mountain storm;
And who will first his fond impatience meet?
His faithful dog 's already at his feet!
Yes, tho' the porter spurn him from his door,
Tho' all, that knew him, know his face no more,
His faithful dog shall tell his joy to each,
With that mute eloquence which passes speech.
And see, the master but returns to die!
Yet who shall bid the watchful servant fly?
The blasts of heaven, the drenching dews of earth,
The wanton insults of unfeeling mirth;
These, when to guard misfortune's sacred grave,
Will firm Fidelity exult to brave.
Led by what chart, transports the timid dove
The wreaths of conquest, or the vows of love?
Saythro'the clouds what compass pointsher flight?
Monarchs have gaz`d, and nations blest the sight.
Pile rocks on rocks, bid woods and mountains rise,
Eclipse her native shades, her native skies;-
"Tis vain! thro' ether's pathless wilds she goes,
And lights at last where all her cares repose.
Sweet bird! thy truth shall Harlem's walk
And unborn ages consecrate thy nest. [attest,
When with the silent energy of grief,
$144. From the Same. OFT has the aged tenant of the vale Lean'd on his staff to lengthen out the tale;
With looks that ask'd, yet dar'd not hope relief,
Want, with her babes, round generous valor
To wring the slow surrender from his tongue,
'Twas thine to animate her closing eye:
Alas! 'twas thine perchance the first to die,
Crush'd by her meagre hand, when welcom'd
from the sky.
'Twas all he gave, 'twas all he had to give.
But hark! thro' those old firs, with sullen § 145. From the Same. [well! WHEN the blithe son of Savoy, roving round The church-clock strikes! ye tender scenes fare-With humble wares and pipe of merry sound, It calls me hence, beneath their shade to trace From his green vale and shelter'd cabin hies, The few fond lines that Time may soon efface. And scales the Alps to visit foreign skies; Tho' far below the forked lightnings play,
Onyon gray stone that fronts the chancel-door. Worn smooth by busy feet now seen no more,And at his feet the thunder dies away, Faci eve we shot the marble thro' the ring, Oft, in the saddle rudely rock'd to sleep, When the heartdane'd, and life was in its spring: While his mule browses on the dizzy steep, Alas! unconscious of the kindred earth, With memory's aid, he sits at home, and sees That faintly echoed to the voice of mirth. His children sport beneath their native trees, And bends, to hear their cherub voices call, O'er the loud fury of the torrent's fall.
Butean hersinile with gloomy Madness dwell!
Say, can she chase the horrors of his cell?
Oft have his lips the grateful tribute breath'd,Each fiery flight on phrenzy's wing restrain,
From sire to son with pious zeal bequeath'd.
When o'er the blasted heath the day declin'd,
And on the seath'd oak warr'd the winter wind:
And mould the coinage of the fever'd brain,
Pass but that grate, which scarce a gleamsupplies,
There in the dust the wreck of Genius lies!
He, whose arresting hand sublimely wrought
Each bold conception in the sphere of thought;
Who from the quarried mass, like Phidias drew
Forms ever fair, creations ever new!
But as he fondly snatch'd the wreath of Fame,
The spectre Poverty unnerv'd his frame.
Cold was her grasp, a withering scowl she wore;
And Hope's soft energies were felt no more.
Yet still how sweet the soothings of his art!
From the rude stone what bright ideas start!
Ev'n now he claims the amaranthine wreath,
With scenes that glow, with images that breathe!
And whence these scenes, these images declare,
Whence but from her who triumphs o'er despair?
Awake, arise! with grateful fervor fraught,
Go spring the mine of elevated thought.
He who thro' Nature's various walk, surveys
The good and fair her faultless line portrays;
Whose mind, prophan'd by no unhallow'd guest,
Culls from the crowd the purest and the best;
May range, at will, bright Fancy's golden clinie,
Or musing, moant where Science sits sublime,
Or wake the spirit of departed Time.
Who acts thus wisely, mark the moral Muse,
A blooming Eden in his life reviews!
So richly cultur'd ev'ry native grace :
Its scanty limits he forgets to trace:
But the fond fool, when evening shades the sky,
Turns but to start, and gazes but to sigh!
The weary waste, that lengthen'd as he ran,
Fades to a blank, and dwindles to a span!
Ah! who can tell the triumphs of the mind,
By truth illumin'd, and by taste refin'd?
When age has quench'd the eye and clos'd the ear,
Still nerv'd for action in her native sphere,
Oft will she rise-with searching glance pursue
Some long-lov'd image vanish'd from her view;
Dart thro' the deep recesses of the past,
O'er dusky forms in chains of slumber cast;
With giant-grasp fling back the folds of night,
And snatch the faithless fugitive to light.
So thro' the grove th' impatient mother flies,
Each sunless glade, each secret pathway tries;
Till the light leaves the truant-boy disclose,
Long on the wood-moss stretch'd in sweet repose.
§ 146. From the Same. OFT may the spirits of the dead descend, To watch the silent slumbers of a friend; To hover round his evening-walk unseen, And hold sweet converse on the dusky green; To hail the spot where first their friendshipgrew, And heaven and nature open'd to their view! Oft, when he trims his cheerful hearth, and sees A smiling circle emulous to please; There may these gentle guests delight to dwell, And bless the scene they lov'd in life so well! O thou! with whom my heart was wont to [care; From Reason's dawn each pleasure and each With whom, alas! I fondly hop'd to know The humble walk of happiness below;
If thy blest nature now unites above
An angel's pity with a brother's love,
Still o'er my life preserve thy mild control,
Correct my views, and elevate my soul:
Grant me thy peace and purity of mind,
Devont yet cheerful, active yet resign'd;
Grantme, like thee, whose heartknew nodisguise,
Whose blameless wishes never aim'd to rise,
To meet the changes Time and Chance present,
With modest dignity and calm content.
When thy last breath, ere Nature sunk to rest,
Thy meek submission to thy God express'd;
When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled,
A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed;
What to thy soul its glad assurance gave,
Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave?
The sweet Remembrance of unblemish'd youth,
The inspiring voice of Innocence and Truth!
Hail, Memory, hail! in thy exhaustless mine
From age to age unnumber'd treasures shine!
Thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey,
And Place and Tine are subject to thy sway!
Thy pleasures most we feel when most alone;
The only pleasures we can call our own.
Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die,
If but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky;
If but a beam of sober Reason play,
Lo, Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away!
But can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power,
Snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour?
These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight,
Pour round her path a stream of living light;
And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest,
Where Virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest.
Its lustre caught from Chloe's eye; Then trembling, left its coral cell The Spring of Sensibility! Sweet drop of pure and pearly light, In thee the rays of Virtue shine; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine. Benign restorer of the soul! When first she feels the rede control Who ever fly'st to bring relief, Of Love or Pity, Joy or Grief The sage's and the poet's theme, In every clime, in every age; Thou charm'st in Fancy's idle dream, In Reason's philosophic page. That very law which mouias a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course. * The law of Gravitation.
M in 2
§ 147. Verses on a Tear. From the Same. OH! that the Chemist's magic art Could crystallise this sacred treasure! Long should it glitter near my heart, A secret source of pensive pleasure. The little brilliant ere it fell,
§ 148. A Sketch of the Alps at Day-break. From the Same.
THE sun beams streak the azure skies,
And line with light the mountain's brow:
With hounds and horns the hunters rise,
And chase the roe-buck thro' the snow.
From rock to rock, with giant bound,
High on their iron poles they pass;
Mute, lest the air, convuls'd by sound,
Rend from above a frozen mass*.
The goats wind slow their wonted way,
Up craggy steeps and ridges rude;
Mark'd by the wild wolf for his prey,
From desert cave or hanging wood.
And while the torrent thunders loud,
And as the echoing cliff's reply,
The huts peep o'er the morning cloud,
Perch'd, like an eagle's nest, on high.
$149. A Wish. From the Same. MINE be a cot beside the hill; A bee-hive's hum shall sooth my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near, The swallow, oft, beneath my thatch, Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch, And share my meal, a welcome guest. Around my ivied porch shall spring Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew; And Lucy at her wheel shall sing, In russet gown and apron blue.
The village-church, among the trees, Where first our marriage vows were giv'n, With merry peals shall swell the breeze, And point with taper spire to heav'n.
$150. An Ode on Classic Educationt. ANON.
Down the steep abrupt of hills
Furious foams the headlong tide,
Thro' the ineads the streamilet trills,
Swelling slow in gentle pride.
Ruin vast and dread dismay
Mark the clam'rous cataract's way.
Glad increase and sweets benign
Round the riv'let's margin shine.
Youth! with stedfast eye peruse
Scenes to lesson thee display'd;
Yes in these the moral Muse
Bids thee see thyself portray'd.
Thou with headstrong wasteful force
May'st reflect the torrent's course;
Or resemble streams, that flow
Blest and blessing as they go.
Infant sense to all our kind
Pure the young ideas brings,
From within the fountain mind
Issuing at a thousand springs.
Who shall make the current stray
Smooth along the channel'd way?
Who shall, as it runs, refine?
Who? but CLASSIC DISCIPLINE.
She, whatever fond desire, Stubborn deed or guileful speech, Inexperience might inspire, Or absurd indulgence teach, Timely cautious shall restrain, Bidding childhood hear the rein She with sport shall labor mix, She excursive faney fix.
Prime support of learned lore, PERSEVERANCE joins her train, Pages oft turn'd o'er and o'er Turning o'er and o'er again; Giving, in due form of school, Speech its measure, pow'r, and rule : Meanwhile memory's treasures grow Great tho' gradual; sure, tho' slow.
Patient CARE by just degrees Word and image learns to class; Those compounds, and sep'rates these, As in strict review they pass; Joius, as various features strike, Fit to fit and like to like, Till in meek array advance. Concord, Method, Elegance.
TIME meanwhile, from day to day,
Fixes deeper Virtue's root;
Whence, in long succession gay,
Blossoms many a lively shoot:
Meek OBEDIENCE, following still,
Frank and glad, a Master's will;
Modest CANDOR, hearing prone
Any judgement save its own:
EMULATION, whose keen eye
Forward still and forward strains,
Nothing ever deeming high
While a higher hope remains:
SIAME ingenuous, native, free,
Source of conscious dignity:
ZEAL impartial to pursue
Right, and just, and good, and true.
These and ev'ry kindred grace
More and more perfection gain;
While ATTENTION toils to trace
Grave record or lofty strain;
Learning how, in Virtue's pride,
Sages liv'd or heroes died;
Marking how in virtue's cause
Genius gave and won applause.
Thus with EARLY CULTURE blest,
Thus to early rule inur'd,
Infancy's expanding breast
Glows with sense and pow'rs matur'd,
Whence, if future merit raise
Private love or public praise,
Thine is all the work -be thine
The glory CLASSIC DISCIPLINE.
*There are passes in the Alps, where the guides tell you to move on with speed, and say nothing, lest the agitation of the air should loosen the snows above. GRAY, sect. v. let. 4.
+ Spoken in the year 1794, at the annual Visitation of Dr. Knox's school at Tunbridge. Audit currus habenas. VIRGIL.