Virtue confirm'd, and regularly brought
To full maturity, by serious thought,
Her actions with a watchful eye surveys;

Each passion guides, and every moment sways;
Not the least failure in her conduct lies;

So gaily modest, and so freely wise.

Her judgment sure, impartial, and refin'd,
With wit, that 's clear and penetrating, join'd,
O'er all the efforts of her mind presides,
And to the noblest end her labours guides:
She knows the best, and does the best pursue,
And treads the maze of life without a clue.
That, the weak only and the wavering lack,
When they 're mistaken, to conduct them back.
She does, amidst ten thousand ways, prefer
The right, as if not capable to err.

Her fancy, strong, vivacious, and sublime,
Seldom betrays her converse to a crime;
And though it moves with a luxuriant heat,
'Tis ne'er precipitous, but always great:

For each expression, every teeming thought,
Is to the scanning of her judgment brought;
Which wisely separates the finest gold,
And casts the image in a beauteous mould.
No trifling words debase her eloquence,
But all 's pathetic, all is sterling sense;
Refin'd from drossy chat, and idle noise,
With which the female conversation cloys.
So well she knows, what 's understood by few,
To time her thoughts, and to express them too;
That what she speaks does to the soul transmit
The fair idea of delightful wit.

Illustrious born, and as illustrious bred,
By great example to wise actions led :
Much to the fame her lineal heroes bore
She owes, but to her own high genius more;
And, by a noble emulation mov'd,
Excell'd their virtues, and her own improv'd;
Till they arriv'd to that celestial height,
Scarce angels greater be, or saints so bright.
But, if Cosmelia conld yet lovelier be,
Of nobler birth, or more a deity,
Achates merits her, though none but he;
Whose generous soul abhors a base disguise;
Resolv'd in action, and in counsel wise;
Too well confirm'd and fortify'd within,
For threats to force, or flattery to win.
Unmov'd amidst the hurricane he stood;
He dares be guiltless, and he will be good.
Since the first pair in Paradise were join'd,
Two hearts were ne'er so happily combin'd.
Achates life to fair Cosmelia gives:
In fair Cosmelia great Achates lives.
Each is to other the divinest bliss;

He is her Heaven, and she is more than his.
O may the kindest influence above
Protect their persons, and indulge their love!

AN INSCRIPTION

FOR THE MONUMENT OF DIANA, COUNTESS OF OXFORD AND ELGIN,

DIANA, OXONII et ELGINI Comitissa ;
QUÆ

Illustri orta sanguine, sanguinem illustravit:
Ceciliorum meritis, clara, suis clarissima;

Ut quæ nesciret minor esse maximis.
Vitam ineuntem innoceutia;
Procedentem ampla virtutum cohors:
Exeuntem mors beatissima decoravit ;
(Volente Numine)

Ut nuspiam decesset aut virtus aut felicitas,
Duobus conjuncta maritis
Utrique charissima:
Primum

(Quem ad annum habuit)
Impense dilexit:
Secundum

(Quem ad annos viginti quatuor)
Tanta pietate et amore coluit;
Ut qui, vivens,

Obsequium, tanquam patri præstitit;
Moriens,

Patrimonium, tanquam filio, reliquit.
Noverca cum esset,

Maternam pietatem facile superavit.
Famulitii adeo mitem prudentemque curam gessit,
Ut non tam domina familiæ præesse,
Quam anima corpori inesse videretur.
Denique,

Cum pudico, humili, forti, sancto animo, Virginibus, conjugibus, viduis, omnibus, Exemplum consecrasset integerrimum, Terris anima major, ad similes evolavit superos.

THE FOREGOING INSCRIPTION ATTEMPTED IN ENGLISH.

DIANA, COUNTESS OF OXFORD AND ELGIN, WHO from a race of noble heroes came, And added lustre to its ancient fame: Round her the virtues of the Cecils shone, But with inferior brightness to her own: Which she refin'd to that sublime degree, The greatest mortal could not greater be. Each stage of life peculiar splendour had; Her tender years with innocence were clad: Maturer grown, whate'er was brave and good In the retinue of her virtues stood; And at the final period of her breath, She crown'd her life with a propitious death; That no occasion might be wanting here To make her virtues fam'd, or joys sincere. Two noble lords her genial bed possest; A wife to both, the dearest and the best. Oxford submitted in one year to Fate; For whom her passion was exceeding great. To Elgin full six lustra were assign'd: And him she lov'd with so intense a mind, That, living like a father, she obey'd; Dying, as to a son, left all she had. When a step-mother, she soon soar'd above The common height even of maternal love. She did her numerous family command With such a tender care, so wise a hand, She seem'd no otherwise a mistress there, Than godlike souls in human bodies are. But when to all she had example shew'd, How to be great and humble, chaste and good, Her soul, for Earth too excellent, too high, Flew to its peers, the princes of the sky.

PROVIDENCE.

Bold is the wretch, and blasphemous the man,
Who, finite, will attempt to scan

The works of him that 's infinitely wise,
And those he cannot comprehend, denies;

As if a space immense were measurable by a span.
Thus the proud sceptic will not own
That Providence the world directs,
Or its affairs inspects;
But leaves it to itself alone.
How does it with almighty grandeur suit,
To be concern'd with our impertinence;
Or interpose his power for the defence
Of a poor mortal, or a senseless brute?
Villains could never so successful prove,
And unmolested in those pleasures live,

Which honour, ease, and affluence give;
While such as Heaven adore, and virtue love,
And most the care of Providence deserve,
Oppress'd with pain and ignominy starve.
What reason can the wisest show,
Why murder does unpunish'd go,

If the Most High, that 's just and good,
Intends and governs all below,

And yet regards not the loud cries of guiltless blood?
But shall we things unsearchable deny,
Because our reason cannot tell us why
They are allow'd, or acted by the Deity?
'Tis equally above the reach of thought,
To comprehend how matter should be brought
From nothing, as existent be

From all eternity;

And yet that matter is, we feel and see:
Nor is it easier to define,

What ligatures the soul and body join;

Or, how the memory does th' impression take
Of things, and to the mind restores them back.
Did not th' Almighty, with immediate care,
Direct and govern this capacious all,
How soon would things into confusion fall!
Earthquakes the trembling ground would tear,
And blazing comets rule the troubled air;
Wide inundations, with resistless force,
The lower provinces o'erflow,

In spite of all that human strength could do
To stop the raging sea's impetuous course:
Murder and Rapine every place would fill,

And sinking Virtue stoop to prosperous Ill;
Devouring Pestilence rave,

And all that part of nature which has breath
Deliver to the tyranny of Death,

And hurry to the dungeons of the grave,

If watchful Providence were not concern'd to save. Let the brave speak, who oft has been

In dreadful sieges, and fierce battles seen, How he 's preserv'd, when bombs and bullets fly So thick, that scarce one inch of air is free;

And though he does ten thousand see
Fall at his feet, and in a moment die,
Unhurt retreats, or gains unhurt the victory,
Let the poor shipwreck'd sailor show,
To what invisible protecting power

He did his life and safety owe,
When the loud storm his well-built vessel tore,
And a half-shatter'd plank convey'd him to the shore.
Nay, let th' ungrateful sceptic tell us how
His tender infancy protection found,

And helpless childhood was with safety crown'd, If he'll no Providence allow;

When he had nothing but his nurse's arms To guard him from innumerable fatal harms: From childhood how to youth he ran Securely, and from thence to man; How, in the strength and vigour of his years, • The feeble bark of life he saves, Amidst the fury of tempestuous waves, From all the dangers he foresees, or fears; Yet every hour 'twixt Scylla and Charybdis steers, If Providence, which can the seas command, Held not the rudder with a steady hand.

OMNIPRESENCE.

"Tis happy for the sons of men, that he, Who all existence out of nothing made, Supports his creatures by immediate aid: But then this all-intending Deity

Must Omnipresent be:

For how shall we by demonstration show
The Godhead is this moment here,
If he 's not present every where,
And always so?

What 's not perceptible by sense, may be
Ten thousand miles remote from me;
Unless his nature is from limitation free,
In vain we for protection pray;
For benefits receiv'd high altars raise,

And offer up our hymns and praise;
In vain bis anger dread, or laws obey.
An absent god from ruin can defend

No more than can an absent friend;
No more is capable to know

How gratefully we make returns,

When the loud music sounds, or victim burns, Than a poor Indian slave of Mexico.

If so, 'tis equally in vain

The prosperous sings, and wretched mourns ; He cannot hear the praise, or mitigate the pain. But by what Being is confin'd

The Godhead we adore?

He must have equal or superior power.

If equal only, they each other bind,

So neither 's God, if we define him right,
For neither 's infinite.

But if the other have superior might,
Then he, we worship, can't pretend to be
Omnipotent, and free

From all restraint, and so no Deity.
If God is limited in space; his view,
His knowledge, power, and wisdom, is so too:
Unless we 'll own, that these perfections are
At all times present every where,

Yet he himself not actually there.

Which to suppose, that strange conclusion brings His essence and his attributes are different things.

IMMUTABILITY,

As the supreme, omniscient mind,
Is by no boundaries confin'd;

So Reason must acknowledge him to be
From possible mutation free:

For what He is, He was from all eternity.
Change, whether the effect of force or will,
Must argue imperfection still,
But imperfection in a Deity,
That's absolutely perfect, cannot be :
Who can compel, without his own consent,
A God to change that is omnipotent?
And every alteration without force,

Is for the better or the worse,

Me that is infinitely wise,

To alter for the worse will never choose,
That a depravity of nature shews:

And He, in whom all true perfection lies,
Cannot by change to greater excellencies rise.
If God be mutable, which way, or how,
Shall we demonstrate, that will please him now,
Which did a thousand years ago?

And 't is impossible to know,
What He forbids, or what He will allow.
Murder, enchantment, lust, and perjury,
Did in the foremost rank of vices stand,
Prohibited by an express command:
But whether such they still remain to be,
No argument will positively prove,
Without immediate notice from above;
If the Almighty Legislator can

Be chang'd, like his inconstant subject, man,
Uncertain thus what to perform or shun,
We all intolerable hazards run,

When an eternal stake is to be lost or won.

JUSTICE.

Rejoice, ye sons of Piety, and sing
Loud Hallelujahs to his glorious name,
Who was, and will for ever be the same:
Your grateful incense to his temples bring,
That from the smoking altars may arise
Clouds of perfumes to the imperial skies.
His promises stand firm to you,
And endless joys will be bestow'd,
As sure as that there is a God,

On all who virtue choose, and righteous paths pursue.
Nor should we more his menaces distrust,
For while he is a Deity he must

(As infinitely good) be infinitely just.

But does it with a gracious Godhead suit,
Whose mercy is his darling attribute,
To punish crimes that temporary be,
And those but trivial offences too,

Mere slips of human nature, small and few,
With everlasting misery?

This shocks the mind with deep reflections fraught, And Reason bends beneath the ponderous thought; Crimes take their estimate from guilt, and grow More heinous still, the more they do incense

That God to whom all creatures owe

Profoundest reverence:

Though as to that degree they raise
The anger of the merciful Most High,
We have no standard to discern it by,
But the infliction he on the offender lays.
So that if endless punishment on all

Our unrepented sins must fall,
None, not the least, can be accounted small.
That God is in perfection just, must be
Allow'd by all that own a Deity:
If so, from equity he cannot swerve,
Nor punish sinners more than they deserve.
His will reveal'd, is both express and clear:
"Ye cursed of my Father, go
To everlasting woe."

If everlasting means eternal here,
Duration absolutely without end;
Against which sense some zealously contend,
That when applied to pains, it only means,
They shall ten thousand ages last:

Ten thousand, more, perhaps, when they are past;
But not eternal in a literal sense:

Without that, he could never prove
The proper objects of our praise or love;
Were he not good, he 'd be no more concern'd
To hear the wretched in affliction cry,
Or see the guiltless for the guilty die,
Than Nero, when the flaming city burn'd,
And weeping Romans o'er its ruins mourn'd,
Eternal justice then would be
But everlasting cruelty;

Power unrestrain'd, almighty violence;
And wisdom unconfin'd, but craft immense.
'T is goodness constitutes him that he is;
And those

Who will deny him this,

A god without a deity suppose.
When the lewd atheist blasphemously swears,
By his tremendous name,

There is no God, but all 's a sham;
Insipid tattle, praise, and prayers,
Virtue, pretence; and all the sacred rules
Religion teaches, tricks to cully fools:

Justice would strike th' audacious villain dead,

But Mercy, boundless, saves his guilty head; Gives him protection, and allows him bread. Does not the sinner whom no danger awes, Without restraint, his infamy pursue,

Rejoice, and glory in it too;

Laugh at the power divine, and ridicule his laws; Labour in vice his rivals to excel,

That, when he's dead, they may their pupils tell How wittily the fool was damn'd, how hard he fell?

Yet this vile wretch in safety lives, Blessings in common with the best receives; Though he is proud t' affront the God those bless

ings gives.

The cheerful Sun his influence sheds on all;

Has no respect to good or ill:

And fruitful showers without distinction fall,
Which fields with corn, with grass the pastures, fill.
The bounteous hand of Heaven bestows
Success and honour many times on those,
Who scorn his favourites, and caress his foes.

To this good God, whom my adventurous pen Has dar'd to celebrate

In lofty Pindar's strain;

Though with unequal strength to bear the weight Of such a ponderous theme so infinitely great: To this good God, celestial spirits pay, With ecstasy divine, incessant praise: While on the glories of his face they gaze, In the bright regions of eternal day.

To him each rational existence here, Whose breast one spark of gratitude contains, In whom there are the least remains

Of piety or fear,

His tribute brings of joyful sacrifice,
For pardon prays, and for protection flies:
Nay, the inanimate creation give,

By prompt obedience to his word,
Instinctive honour to their lord;

And shame the thinking world, who in rebellion live.
With Heaven and Earth then, O my soul, unite,
And the great God of both adore and bless,
Who gives thee competence, content, and peace;
The only fountains of sincere delight;
That from the transitory joys below,
Thou by a happy exit may'st remove

To those ineffable above;

Which from the vision of the Godhead flow,
And neither end, decrease, nor interruption know.

ELEAZAR'S LAMENTATION

OVER JERUSALEM.

PARAPHRASED OUT OF JOSEPHUS.

ALAS, Jerusalem! alas! where 's now
Thy pristine glory, thy unmatch'd renown,
To which the heathen monarchies did bow?
Ah, hapless, miserable town!

Where 's all thy majesty, thy beauty gone,
Thou once most noble, celebrated place,
The joy and the delight of all the Earth;
Who gav'st to godlike princes birth,
And bred up heroes, an immortal race?
Where's now the vast magnificence, which made
The souls of foreigners adore

Thy wondrous brightness, which no more
Shall shine, but lie in an eternal shade?
Oh misery! where 's all her mighty state,
Her splendid train of numerous kings,
Her noble edifices, noble things,
Which made her seem so eminently great,
That barbarous princes in her gates appear'd,
And wealthy presents, as their tribute, brought,
To court her friendship? For her strength they fear'd,
And all her wide protection sought.

But now, ah! now they laugh and cry,
See how her lofty buildings lie!

See how her flaming turrets gild the sky!

Where's all the young, the valiant, and the gay, That on her festivals were us'd to play Harmonious tunes, and beautify the day?

The glittering troops, which did from far Bring home the trophies, and the spoils of war, Whom all the nations round with terrour view'd, Nor durst their godlike valour try? Where'er they fought, they certainly subdued, And every combat gain'd a victory. Ah! where's the house of the Eternal King: The beauteous temple of the Lord of Hosts, To whose large treasuries our fleet did bring The gold and jewels of remotest coasts? There had the infinite Creator plac'd

His terrible, amazing name, And with his more peculiar presence grac'd That heavenly sanctum, where no mortal came, The high-priest only; he but once a year In that divine apartment might appear:

So full of glory, and so sacred then,

But now corrupted with the heaps of slain, [fane, Which scatter'd round with blood, defile the mighty

Alas, Jerusalem! each spacious street

Was once so fill'd, the numerous throng Was forc'd to jostle as they pass'd along,

And thousands did with thousands meet;
The darling then of God, and man's belov'd retreat.
In thee was the bright throne of Justice fix'd,
Justice impartial, and vain fraud unmix'd!
She scorn'd the beauties of fallacious gold,
Despising the most wealthy bribes;
But did the sacred balance hold
With godlike faith to all our happy tribes.
Thy well-built streets, and every noble square,
Were once with polish'd marble laid,
And all thy lofty bulwarks made
With wondrous labour, and with artful care.
Thy ponderous gates, surprising to behold,
Were cover'd o'er with solid gold;
Whose splendour did so glorious appear,

It ravish'd and amaz'd the eye;
And strangers passing to themselves would cry,
"What mighty heaps of wealth are here!
How thick the bars of massy silver lie!
O happy people! and still happy be,
Celestial city! from destruction free,
May'st thou enjoy a long, entire prosperity!"

But now, oh wretched, wretched place!
Thy streets and palaces are spread
With heaps of carcasses, and mountains of the dead,
The bleeding relics of the Jewish race!
Each corner of the town, no vacant space,

But is with breathless bodies fill'd,
Some by the sword, and some by famine, kill'd,
Natives and strangers are together laid:

Death's arrows all at random flew
Amongst the crowd, and no distinction made,
But both the coward and the valiant slew.
All in one dismal ruin join'd,

(For swords and pestilence are blind)
The fair, the good, the brave, no mercy find
Those that from far, with joyful haste,
Came to attend thy festival,

Of the same bitter poison taste,
And by the black, destructive poison fall;
For the avenging sentence pass'd on all.
Oh! see how the delight of human eyes
In horrid desolation lies!

See how the burning ruins flame!
Nothing now left, but a sad, empty name!
And the triumphant victor cries,
"This was the fam'd Jerusalem!"

The most obdurate creature must Be griev'd to see thy palaces in dust, Those ancient habitations of the just:

And could the marble rocks but know
The miseries of thy fatal overthrow,
They 'd strive to find some secret way unknown
Maugre the senseless nature of the stone,

Their pity and concern to show:
For now, where lofty buildings stood,
Thy sons' corrupted carcasses are laid;
And all by this destruction made

One common Golgotha, one field of blood!
See! how those ancient men, who rul'd thy state
And made thee happy, made thee great;