Her unrelenting train: informers, spies,
Blood-hounds, that sturdy freedom to the grove
Pursue; projectors of aggrieving schemes
Commerce to load for unprotected seas,*
To sell the starving many to the few,†
And drain a thousand ways th' exhausted land.
Ev'n from that healing place, whence peace should
flow,

And gospel truth, inhuman bigots shed
Their poison round; and on the venal bench,
Instead of justice, party held the scale,
And violence the sword. Afflicted years,
Too patient, felt at last their vengeance full.

"Mid the low murmurs of submissive fear
And mingled rage, my Hampden rais'd his voice,
And to the laws appeal'd; the laws no more
In judgment sate, behov'd some other ear.
When instant from the keen resentive North,
By long oppression by religion rous'd,
The guardian army came. Beneath its wing
Was called, though meant to furnish hostile aid,
The more than Roman senate. There a flame
Broke out, that clear'd, consum'd, renew'd the land.
In deep emotion hurl'd, nor Greece, nor Rome,
Indignant bursting from a tyrant's chain,
While, full of me, each agitated soul
Strung every nerve, and flam'd in every eye,
Had e'er beheld such light and heat combin'd!
Such heads and hearts! such dreadful zeal, led on
By calm majestic wisdom, taught its course
What nuisance to devour; such wisdom fir'd
With unabating zeal, and aim'd sincere
To clear the weedy state, restore the laws,
And for the future to secure their sway.

"This then the purpose of my mildest sons. But man is blind. A nation once inflam'd (Chief, should the breath of factious fury blow With the wild rage of mad enthusiasts swell'd) Not easy cools again. From breast to breast, From eye to eye, the kindling passions mix In heighten'd blaze; and, ever wise and just, High Heaven to gracious ends directs the storm. Thus, in one conflagration Britain wrapt, And by confusion's lawless sons despoil'd, King, lords, and commons, thundering to the ground, Successive rush'd-Lo! from their ashes rose, Gay-beaming radiant youth, the Phoenix-state.

"The grievous yoke of vassalage, the yoke Of private life, lay by those flames dissolv'd; And, from the wasteful, the luxurious king.|| Was purchas'd that which taught the young bend.T

Stronger restor'd, the commons tax'd the whole,
And built on that eternal rock their power.
The crown, of its hereditary wealth
Despoil'd, on senates more dependent grew,
And they more frequent, more assur'd. Yet liv'd,
And in full vigor spread that bitter root,
The passive doctrines, by their patrons first
Oppos'd ferocious, when they touch themselves.

to

The raging high-church sermons of these times, inspiring at once a spirit of slavish submission to the court, and of bitter persecution against those whom they call Church and State Puritans.

§ At the Restoration.

[Charles II.

T Court of wards.

This wild delusive cant; the rash cabal
Of hungry courtiers, ravenous for prey;
The bigot, restless in a double chain
To bind anew the land; the constant need
Of finding faithless means, of shifting forms,
And flattering senates, to supply his waste;
These tore some moments from the careless prince,
And in his breast awak'd the kindred plan.
By dangerous softness long he min'd his way;
By subtle arts, dissimulation deep;
By sharing what corruption shower'd, profuse;
By breathing wide the gay licentious plague,
And pleasing manners, fitted to deceive.

"At last subsided the delirious joy,
On whose high billow, from the saintly reign
The nation drove too far. A pension'd king,
Against his country brib'd by Gallic gold;
The port* pernicious sold, the Scylla since,
And fell Charybdis of the British seas;
Freedom attack'd abroad,† with surer blow
To cut it off at home; the savior leagueț
Of Europe broke; the progress ev'n advanc'd
Of universal sway, which to reduce
Such seas of blood and treasure Britain cost;
The millions, by a generous people given,
Or squander'd vile, or to corrupt, disgrace,
And awe the land with forces not their own,||
Employ'd; the darling church herself betray'd;
All these, broad-glaring, op'd the general eye,
And wak'd my spirit, the resisting soul.

"Mild was, at first, and half asham'd, the check Of senates, shook from the fantastic dream Of absolute submission, tenets vile!

Which slaves would blush to own, and which, reduc'd
To practice, always honest Nature shock.

Not ev'n the mask remov'd, and the fierce front
Of tyranny disclos'd; nor trampled laws;

Nor seiz'd each badge of freedom through the

land;

Nor Sidney bleeding for the unpublish'd page;
Nor on the bench avow'd corruption plac'd,
And murderous rage itself, in Jeffries' form;
Nor endless acts of arbitrary power,
Cruel and false, could raise the public arm.
Distrustful, scatter'd, of combining chiefs
Devoid, and dreading blind rapacious war,
The patient public turns not, till impell'd
To the near verge of ruin. Hence I rous'd
The bigot king,** and hurried fated on
His measures immature. But chief his zeal,
Out-flaming Rome herself, portentous scar'd
The troubled nation: Mary's horrid days
To fancy bleeding rose, and the dire glare
Of Smithfield lighten'd in his eyes anew.
Yet silence reign'd. Each on another scowl'd
Rueful amazement, pressing down his rage:
As, mustering vengeance, the deep thunder frowns,
Awfully still, waiting the high command

To spring. Straight from his country, Europe sav'd,

* Dunkirk.

The war, in conjunction with France, against the

Dutch.

The triple alliance.

§ Under Lewis XIV.

A standing army, raised without the consent of par liament.

¶ The charters of corporations.

** James II.

Secure his little kingdom. Nor can those
Whom fortune heaps, without these virtues, reach
That truce with pain, that animated ease,
That self-enjoyment springing from within;
That Independence, active, or retir'd,
Which make the soundest bliss of man below:
But, lost beneath the rubbish of their means,
And drain'd by wants to nature all unknown,
A wandering, tasteless, gaily-wretched train,
Though rich, are beggars, and though noble, slaves.
"Lo! damn'd to wealth, at what a gross ex-

pense

They purchase disappointment, pain, and shame,
Instead of hearty hospitable cheer.
See! how the hall with brutal riot flows;
While in the foaming flood, fermenting, steep'd,
The country maddens into party-rage.
Mark! those disgraceful piles of wood and stone;
Those parks and gardens, where, his haunts be-
trimm'd,

And Nature by presumptuous art oppress'd,
The woodland genius mourns. See! the full board
That streams disgust, and bowls that give no joy:
No truth invited there, to feed the mind;
Nor wit, the wine-rejoicing reason quaffs.
Hark! how the dome with insolence resounds,
With those retain'd by vanity to scare
Repose and friends. To tyrant fashion mark
The costly worship paid, to the broad gaze
Of fools. From still delusive day to day,
Led an eternal round of lying hope,
See! self-abandon'd, how they roam adrift,
Dash'd o'er the town, a miserable wreck!
Then to adorn some warbling eunuch turn'd,
With Midas' ears they crowd; or to the buzz
Of masquerade unblushing; or, to show
Their scorn of Nature, at the tragic scene
They mirthful sit, or prove the comic true.
But, chief, behold! around the rattling board,
The civil robbers rang'd; and ev'n the fair.
The tender fair, each sweetness laid aside,
As fierce for plunder as all-licens'd troops

The guardian public; every face they see,
And every friend; nay, in effect, themselves
As in familiar life, the villain's fate
Admits no cure; so, when a desperate age
At this arrives, I the devoted race
Indignant spurn, and hopeless soar away.

"But, ah, too little known to modern times!
Be not the noblest passion past unsung;
That ray peculiar, from unbounded love
Effus'd, which kindles the heroic soul:
Devotion to the public. Glorious flame!
Celestial ardor! in what unknown worlds,
Profusely scatter'd through the blue immense,
Hast thou been blessing myriads, since in Rome,
Old virtuous Rome, so many deathless names
From thee their lustre drew? since, taught by ther
Their poverty put splendor to the blush,
Pain grew luxurious, and ev'n death delight?
O, wilt thou ne'er, in thy long period, look,
With blaze direct, on this my last retreat!

""Tis not enough, from self right understood Reflected, that thy rays inflame the heart: Though Virtue not disdains appeals to self, Dreads not the trial: all her joys are true, Nor is there any real joy save hers. Far less the tepid, the declaiming race, Foes to corruption, to its wages friends, Or those whom private passions for a while, Beneath my standard list can they suffice To raise and fix the glory of my reign? "An active flood of universal love Must swell the breast. First, in effusion wide, creation round,

The restless spirit roves

And seizes every being

stronger then

It tends to life, whate'er the kindred search
Of bliss allies: then, more collected still,
It urges human-kind: a passion grown,
At last, the central parent-public calls
Its utmost effort forth, awakes each sense,

The comely, grand, and tender. Without this.
This awful pant, shook from sublimer powers
Than those of self, this heaven-infus'd delight.

Or quarter'd on it many a needless want,
At the throng'd levee bends the venal tribe:

With fair but faithless smiles each varnish'd o'er,
Each smooth as those that mutually deceive,
And for their falsehood each despising each;
Till shook their patron by the wintry winds,

To press the public good, my system soon, Traverse, to several selfish centres drawn, Will reel to ruin: while for ever shut Stand the bright portals of desponding Fame.

From sordid self shoot up no shining deeds. None of those ancient lights, that gladden Earth Give grace to being, and arouse the brave

O, far superior Afric's sable sons,

By merchant pilfer'd, to these willing slaves!
And, rich, as unsqueez'd favorite, to them,
Is he who can his virtue boast alone!

Britons! be firm!-nor let corruption sly
Twine round your heart indissoluble chains!
The steel of Brutus burst the grosser bonds
By Cæsar cast o'er Rome; but still remain'd
The soft-enchanting fetters of the mind,
And other Cæsars rose. Determin'd, hold
Your independence! for, that once destroy'd,
Unfounded, freedom is a morning dream,
That flits aërial from the spreading eye.

"Forbid it, Heaven! that ever I need urge Integrity in office on my sons!

Inculcate common honor-not to rob-
And whom?-The gracious, the confiding hand,
That lavishly rewards; the toiling poor,
Whose cup with many a bitter drop is mixt;

Life tedious grows, an idly-bustling round,
Fill'd up
with actions animal and mean,

A dull gazette! Th' impatient reader scorts
The poor historic page; till kindly comes
Oblivion, and redeems a people's shame.
Not so the times, when, emulation-stung,
Greece shone in genius, science, and in arts,
And Rome in virtues dreadful to be told!
To live was glory then! and charm'd mankind
Through the deep periods of devolving time.
Those, raptur'd, copy! these, astonish'd, read
True, a corrupted state, with every vice
And every meanness foul, this passion damps
Who can, unshock'd, behold the cruel eye!
The pale inveigling smile? the ruffian front?
The wretch abandon'd to relentless self,
Equally vile if miser or profuse !
Powers not of God, assiduous to corrupt?
The fell deputed tyrant, who devours

66

The poor and weak, at distance from redress ?*
Delirious faction bellowing loud my name?
The false fair-seeming patriot's hollow boast?
A race resolv'd on bondage, fierce for chains,
My sacred rights a merchandise alone
Esteeming, and to work their feeder's will
By deeds, a horror to mankind, prepar'd,
As were the dregs of Romulus of old?
Who these indeed can undetesting see!—
But who unpitying? To the generous eye
Distress is virtue! and, though self-betray'd,
A people struggling with their fate must rouse
The hero's throb. Nor can a land, at once,
Be lost to virtue quite. How glorious then!
Fit luxury for gods! to save the good,
Protect the feeble, dash bold vice aside,
Depress the wicked, and restore the frail.
Posterity, besides, the young, are pure,

And sons may tinge their fathers' cheek with shame. "Should then the times arrive (which Heaven avert!)

That Britons bend unnerv'd, not by the force
Of arms, more generous, and more manly, quell'd,
But by corruption's soul-dejecting arts,
Arts impudent! and gross! by their own gold,
In part bestow'd, to bribe them to give all.
With party raging, or immers'd in sloth,
Should they Britannia's well-fought laurels yield
To slily-conquering Gaul; ev'n from her brow
Let her own naval oak be basely torn,
By such as tremble at the stiffening gale,
And nerveless sink while others sing rejoic'd.
Or (darker prospect! scarce one gleam behind
Disclosing) should the broad corruptive plague
Breathe from the city to the farthest hut,
That sits serene within the forest shade;
The fever'd people fire, inflame their wants,
And their luxurious thirst, so gathering rage,
That, were a buyer found, they stand prepar'd
To sell their birthright for a cooling draught.
Should shameless pens for plain corruption plead;
The hir'd assassins of the commonweal!
Deem'd the declaiming rant of Greece and Rome,
Should public virtue grow the public scoff,
Till private, failing, staggers through the land:
'Till round the city loose mechanic want,
Dire-prowling nightly, makes the cheerful haunts
Of men more hideous than Numidian wilds.
Nor from its fury sleeps the vale in peace;
And murders, horrors, perjuries abound:
Nay, till to lowest deeds the highest stoop;
The rich, like starving wretches, thirst for gold;
And those, on whom the vernal showers of Heaven
All-bounteous fall, and that prime lot bestow,
A power to live to Nature and themselves,
In sick attendance wear their anxious days,
With fortune, joyless, and with honors, mean.
Meantime, perhaps, profusion flows around,
The waste of war, without the works of peace;
No mark of millions, in the gulf absorpt
Of uncreating vice, none but the rage
Of rous'd corruption still demanding more.
That very portion, which (by faithful skill

* Lord Molesworth, in his account of Denmark, says: "It is observed, that in limited monarchies and common. wealths, a neighborhood to the seat of the government is advantageous to the subjects; while the distant provinces are less thriving, and more liable to eppression."

Employ'd) might make the smiling public rear
Her ornamented head, drill'd through the hands
Of mercenary tools, serves but to nurse

A locust band within, and in the bud
Leaves starv'd each work of dignity and use.
"I paint the worst. But should these times
arrive,

If any nobler passion yet remain,
Let all my sons all parties fling aside,
Despise their nonsense, and together join;
Let worth and virtue, scorning low despair,
Exerted full, from every quiver shine,
Commix'd in heighten'd blaze. Light flash'd to
light,

Moral, or intellectual, more intense

By giving glows. As on pure Winter's eve,
Gradual, the stars effulge; fainter, at first,
They, straggling, rise; but when the radiant host,
In thick profusion pour'd, shine out immense,
Each casting vivid influence on each,
From pole to pole a glittering deluge plays,
And worlds above rejoice, and men below.

"But why to Britons this superfluous strain ?—
Good-nature, honest truth ev'n somewhat blunt,
Of crooked baseness an indignant scorn,
A zeal unyielding in their country's cause,
And ready bounty, wont to dwell with them-
Nor only wont-Wide o'er the land diffus'd,
In many a blest retirement still they dwell.

"To softer prospect turn we now the view, To laurel'd science, arts, and public works, That lend my finish'd fabric comely pride, Grandeur, and grace. Of sullen genius he! Curs'd by the Muses! by the Graces loth'd! Who deems beneath the public's high regard These last enlivening touches of my reign. However puff'd with power, and gorg'd with wealth, A nation be; let trade enormous rise, Let East and South their mingled treasure pour, Till, swell'd impetuous, the corrupting flood Burst o'er the city, and devour the land: Yet these neglected, these recording arts, Wealth rots, a nuisance; and, oblivious sunk, That nation must another Carthage lie. If not by them, on monumental brass, On sculptur'd marble, on the deathless page, Imprest, renown had left no trace behind: In vain, to future times, the sage had thought, The legislator plann'd, the hero found A beauteous death, the patriot toil'd in vain. Th' awarders they of Fame's immortal wreath, They rouse ambition, they the mind exalt, Give great ideas, lovely forms infuse, Delight the general eye, and, drest by them, The moral Venus glows with double charms. 'Science, my close associate, still attends Where'er I go. Sometimes, in simple guise, She walks the furrow with the consul swain, Whispering unletter'd wisdom to the heart, Direct; or, sometimes, in the pompous robe Of fancy drest, she charms Athenian wits, And a whole sapient city round her burns. Then o'er her brow Minerva's terrors nod; With Xenophon, sometimes, in dire extremes, She breathes deliberate soul, and makes retreatt Unequall'd glory; with the Theban sage, Epaminondas, first and best of men!

†The famous retreat of the Ten Thousand was chiefly conducted by Xenophon.