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VICAR. The lately departed Minister of the Borough-His soothing

and supplicatory Manners-His cool and timid Affections - No Praise due to such negative Virtue-Address to Characters of this Kind— The Vicar's Employments-His Talents and moderate Ambition—His Dislike of Innovation—His mild but ineffectual Benevolence- A Summary of his Character.

CURATE. Mode of paying the Borough-Minister - The Curate has no

such Resources-His Learning and Poverty-Erroneous Idea of his parent–His Feelings as a Husband and Father -The dutiful Regard of his numerous Family–His Pleasure as a Writer, how interrupted – No Resource in the Press-Vulgar Insult-His Account of a Literary Society, and a Fund for the Relief of indigent Authors, &c.

THE BOROUGH.

LETTER III.

THE VICAR-THE CURATE, &c.

WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,
Sleep the departed vicars of the place;
Of most, all mention, memory, thought are past-
But take a slight memorial of the last.

To what famed college we our Vicar owe,
To what fair county, let historians show:
Few now remember when the mild young man,
Ruddy and fair, his Sunday-task began;
Few live to speak of that soft soothing look
He cast around, as he prepared his book ;
It was a kind of supplicating smile,
But nothing hopeless of applause, the while ;
And when he finish'd, his corrected pride
Felt the desert, and yet the praise denied.
Thus he his race began, and to the end
His constant care was, no man to offend

;

No haughty virtues stirr'd his peaceful mind,
Nor urged the priest to leave the flock behind;
He was his Master's soldier, but not one
To lead an army of his martyrs on:
Fear was his ruling passion; yet was love,
Of timid kind, once known his heart to move;
It led his patient spirit where it paid
Its languid offerings to a listening maid ;
She, with her widow'd mother, heard him speak,
And sought awhile to find what he would seek :
Smiling he came, he smiled when he withdrew,
And paid the same attention to the two;
Meeting and parting without joy or pain,
He seem'd to come that he might go again.
The wondering girl, no prude, but something nice,
At length was chilld by his unmelting ice ;
She found her tortoise held such sluggish pace,
That she must turn and meet him in the chase :
This not approving, she withdrew till one
Came who appear'd with livelier hope to run ;
Who sought a readier way the heart to move,
Than by faint dalliance of unfixing love.

Accuse me not that I approving paint
Impatient hope or love without restraint;
Or think the passions, a tumultuous throng,
Strong as they are, ungovernably strong:

But is the laurel to the soldier due,
Who cautious comes not into danger's view ?
What worth has virtue by desire untried,
When Nature's self enlists on duty's side ?

The married dame in vain assail'd the truth
And guarded bosom of the Hebrew-youth ;
But with the daughter of the Priest of On
The love was lawful, and the guard was gone;
But Joseph's fame had lesseri'd in our view,
Had he, refusing, fled the maiden too.

Yet our good priest to Joseph's praise aspired,
As once rejecting what his heart desired ;
“ I am escaped,” he said, when none pursued;
When none attack'd him, “ I am unsubdued ;"
“Oh pleasing pangs of love,” he sang again,
Cold to the joy, and stranger to the pain.
Ev'n in his age would he address the young,
“ I too have felt these fires, and they are strong;"
But from the time he left his favourite maid,
To ancient females his devoirs were paid ;
And still they miss him after morning prayer;
Nor yet successor fills the Vicar's chair,
Where kindred spirits in his praise agree,
A happy few, as mild and cool as he ;
The
easy

followers in the female train, Led without love, and captives without chain.

Ye lilies male ! think (as your tea you sip,
While the town small-talk flows from lip to lip;
Intrigues half-gather'd, conversation-scraps,
Kitchen-cabals, and nursery-mishaps,)
If the vast world may not some scene produce,
Some state where your small talents might have use;
Within seraglios you might harmless move,
'Mid ranks of beauty, and in haunts of love;
There from too daring man the treasures guard,
An easy duty, and its own reward;
Nature's soft substitutes, you there might save
From crime the tyrant, and from wrong the slave.

But let applause be dealt in all we may,
Our priest was cheerful, and in season gay ;
His frequent visits seldom fail'd to please ;
Easy himself, he sought his neighbour's ease:
To a small garden with delight he came,
And gave successive flowers a summer's fame;
These he presented with a grace his own
To his fair friends, and made their beauties known,
Not without moral compliment; how they
“ Like flowers were sweet, and must like flowers decay."

Simple he was, and loved the simple truth,
Yet had some useful cunning from his youth ;
A cunning never to dishonour lent,
And rather for defence than conquest meant;

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