And hug the horrors of a victor's chain:
Of bodies politic that destin'd hell,

Inflicted here, since here their beings end;
And fall from foes detested and despis'd,
On disbelievers-of the statesman's creed.
Note, here, my lord, (unnoted yet it lies
By most, or all) these truths political

Serve more than public ends: this creed of states
Seconds, and irresistibly supports,

The christian creed. Are you surpris'd?—Attend;
And on the statesman's build a nobler name.
This punctual justice exercis'd on states,
With which authentic chronicle abounds,
As all men know, and therefore must believe;
This vengeance pour'd on nations ripe in guilt,
Pour'd on them here, where only they exist,
What is it but an argument of sense,

Or rather demonstration, to support

Our feeble faith-" That they who states compose,
That men who stand not bounded by the grave,
Shall meet like measure at their proper hour?"
For God is equal, similarly deals

With states and persons, or he were not God!
What means a rectitude immutable?

A pattern here of universal right.

What, then, shall rescue an abandon'd man?
Nothing, it is replied. Replied, by whom?
Replied by politicians well as priests:

Writ sacred set aside, mankind's own writ,
The whole world's annals; these pronounce his
doom.

Thus (what might seem a daring paradox)

E'en politics advance divinity:

True masters there are better scholars here,
Who travel history in quest of schemes
To govern nations, or perhaps oppress,
May there start truths that other aims inspire,
And, like Candace's eunuch, as they read,
By Providence turn Christians on their road:
Digging for silver, they may strike on gold;
May be surpris'd with better than they sought,
And entertain an angel unawares.

Nor is divinity ungrateful found.
As politics advance divinity,
Thus, in return, divinity promotes

True politics, and crowns the statesman's praise.
All wisdoms are but branches of the chief,
And statesmen found but shoots of honest men.
Are this world's witchcrafts pleaded in excuse
For deviations in our moral line?

This, and the next world, view'd with such an eye
As suits a statesman, such as keeps in view
His own exalted science, both conspire
To recommend and fix us in the right.
If we reward the politics of Heaven,
The grand administration of the whole,
What's the next world? A supplement of this:
Without it, justice is defective here;
Just as to states, defective as to men :
If so, what is this world? As sure as right
Sits in Heaven's throne, a prophet of the next.
Prize you the prophet? then believe him too:
His prophecy more precious than his smile.
How comes it then to pass, with most on earth,

That this should charm us, that should discom

pose?

Long as the statesman finds this case his own,
So long his politics are uncomplete;

In danger he; nor is the nation safe,
But soon must rue his inauspicious power.

What hence results? a truth that should resound

For ever awful in Britannia's ear:

Religion crowns the statesman and the man,
Sole source of public and of private peace."
This truth all men must own, and therefore will,
And praise and preach it too :-and when that's
Their compliment is paid, and 'tis forgot. [done,
What highland pole-axe half so deep can wound?
But how dare I, so mean, presume so far?
Assume my seat in the dictator's chair?
Pronounce, predict (as if indeed inspir'd),
Promulge my censures, lay out all my throat,
Till hoarse in clamour on enormous crimes?
Two mighty columns rise in my support;
In their more awful and authentic voice,
Record profane and sacred, drown the muse,
Tho' loud, and far out-thread her threatening song
Still further, Holles! suffer me to plead
That I speak freely, as I speak to thee:
Guilt only startles at the name of guilt;

And truth, plain truth, is welcome to the wise.
Thus what seem'd my presumption is thy praise.
Praise, and immortal praise, is virtue's claim;
And virtue's sphere is action: yet we grant
Some merit to the trumpet's loud alarm,
Whose clangour kindles cowards into men.

Nor shall the verse, perhaps, be quite forgot,
Which talks of immortality, and bids,
In every British breast, true glory rise,

As now the warbling lark awakes the morn.
To close, my lord! with that which all should close
And all begin, and strike us every hour,
Though no war wak'd us, no black tempest frown'd.
The morning rises gay; yet gayest morn
Less glorious after night's incumbent shades;
Less glorious far bright nature, rich array'd
With golden robes, in all the pomp of noon,
Than the first feeble dawn of moral day?
Sole day, (let those whom statesmen serve attend)
Though the sun ripens diamonds for their crowns;
Sole day worth his regard whom Heaven ordains,
Undarken'd, to behold noon dark, and date,
From the sun's death, and every planet's fall,
His all-illustrious and eternal

year;

Where statesmen and their monarchs, (names of

awe

And distance here) shall rank with common men, Yet own their glory never dawn'd before.

217

RESIGNATION.

IN TWO PARTS.

My soul shall be satisfied even as it were with marrow and fatness, when my mouth praiseth thee with joyful lips. PSALM lxiii. 6.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THIS was not intended for the public, there were many and strong reasons against it; and are so still; but some extracts of it, from the few copies which were given away, being got into the printed papers, it was thought necessary to publish something, lest a copy still more imperfect than this should fall into the press and it is hoped, that this unwelcome occasion of publication may be some excuse for it.

As for the following stanzas, God Almighty's infinite power, and marvellous goodness to man, is dwelt on, as the most just and cogent reason for our cheerful and absolute resignation to his will; nor are any of those topics declined, which have a just tendency to promote that supreme virtue : such as the vanity of this life, the value of the next, the approach of death, &c.

PART I.

THE days how few, how short the years

Of man's too rapid race!

Each leaving, as it swiftly flies,

A shorter in its place.