What wonder is't that black detraction thrives;
The homicide of names is less than lives;
And yet the perjur'd murderer furvives.

This faid, fhe paus'd a little, and fupprefs'd
The boiling indignation of her breast.

She knew the virtue of her blade, nor would
Pollute her fatire with ignoble blood:
Her panting foe she saw before her eye,
And back the drew the fhining weapon dry.
So when the generous Lion has in fight
His equal match, he rouzes for the fight;
But when his foe lies proftrate on the plain,
He fheaths his paws, uncurls his angry mane,
And, pleas'd with bloodless honors of the day,
Walks over and difdains th' inglorious prey.
So James, if great with lefs we may compare,
Arrefts his rolling thunder-bolts in air;
And grants ungrateful friends a lengthen'd fpace,
T'implore the remnants of long-fuffering grace.

This breathing-time the matron took; and then
Refum'd the thread of her difcourfe again.
Be vengeance wholly left to powers divine,
And let heaven judge betwixt your fons and mine:
If joys hereafter must be purchas'd here
With lofs of all that mortals hold fo dear,

}

Then welcome infamy and public shame,
And, laft, a long farewel to worldly fame.
'Tis faid with eafe, but, oh, how hardly try'd
By haughty fouls to human honor ty'd!
O fharp convulfive pangs of agonizing pride!
Down then thou rebel, never more to rife,
And what thou didst and doft fo dearly prize,
That fame, that darling fame, make that thy
facrifice.

'Tis nothing thou haft given, then add thy tears For a long race of unrepenting years:

'Tis nothing yet, yet all thou haft to give :
Then add those may-be years thou haft to live :
Yet nothing ftill; then poor, and naked come:"
Thy father will receive his unthrift home,
And thy bleft Saviour's blood discharge the
mighty fum.

Thus (the purfu'd) I difcipline a fon,
Whose uncheck'd fury to revenge would run :
He champs the bit, impatient of his loss,
And ftarts afide, and flounders at the cross.
Inftruct him better, gracious God, to know,
As thine is vengeance, fo forgiveness too:

That, fuffering from ill tongues, he bears no more Than what his fov'reign bears, and what his Ṣaviour bore.

It now remains for you to fchool your child, And ask why God's anointed he revil'd; A king and princefs dead! did Shimei worse? The curfer's punishment should fright the curfe Your fon was warn'd, and wifely gave it o'er, But he who counsell'd him has paid the score: The heavy malice could no higher tend, But woe to him on whom the weights descend. So to permitted ills the dæmon flies His rage is aim'd at him who rules the skies: Conftrain'd to quit his cause, no fuccor found, The foe discharges every tire around,

;

In clouds of fmoke abandoning the fight;
But his own thundering peals proclaim his flight.
In Henry's change his charge as ill fucceeds;
To that long ftory little answer needs:

Confront but Henry's words with Henry's deeds.
Were space allow'd, with ease it might be prov'd,
What fprings his bleffed reformation mov'd.
The dire effects appear'd in open fight,

Which from the cause he calls a diftant flight,
And yet no larger leap than from the fun to light.
Now laft your fons a double pæan found,

A treatife of humility is found.

'Tis found, but better it had ne'er been fought, Than thus in proteftant proceffion brought.

The fam'd original thro Spain is known,
Rodriguez' work, my celebrated fon,

Which yours, by ill-tranflating, made his own;
Conceal'd its author, and ufurp'd the name,
The basest and ignoblest theft of fame.
My altars kindled first that living coal;
Restore or practise better what

you ftole: That virtue could this humble verse inspire, 'Tis all the restitution I require.

Glad was the Panther that the charge was clos'd. And none of all her fav'rite fons expos'd. For laws of arms permit each injur'd man, To make himself a faver where he can. Perhaps the plunder'd merchant cannot tell The names of pirates in whofe hands he fell; But at the den of thieves he juftly flies, And every Algerine is lawful prize. No private person in the foe's estate Can plead exemption from the public fate. Yet chriftian laws allow not fuch redress; Then let the greater fuperfede the less. But let the abetters of the Panther's crime Learn to make fairer wars another time. Some characters may fure be found to write Among her fons; for 'tis no common fight, A fpotted dam, and all her offspring white.

The favage, tho fhe faw her plea controul'd, Yet would not wholly feem to quit her hold, But offer'd fairly to compound the strife, And judge converfion by the convert's life. 'Tis true, she said, I think it somewhat strange, So few fhould follow profitable change: For present joys are more to flesh and blood, Than a dull profpect of a distant good. 'Twas well alluded by a son of mine, (I hope to quote him is not to purloin) Two magnets, heaven and earth, allure to bliss; The larger loadstone that, the nearer this : The weak attraction of the greater fails ; We nod a while, but neighbourhood prevails: But when the greater proves the nearer too, I wonder more your converts come fo flow. Methinks in those who firm with me remain, It shows a nobler principle than gain.

Your inference would be ftrong (the Hind re

ply'd)

If yours were in effect the suffering fide :
Your clergy's fons their own in peace poffefs,
Nor are their prospects in reverfion less.

My profelytes are struck with awful dread;

Your bloody comet-laws hang blazing o'er their

head;

The