Muft ftand acknowledged, while the world shall
The most important and effectual guard,
Support, and ornament, of virtue's cause.
There ftands the meffenger of truth: there ftands
The legate of the fkies!-His theme divine,
His office facred, his credentials clear.
By him the violated law speaks out
Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet-
As angels ufe, the gofpel whifpers peace.
He stablishes the ftrong, reftores the weak,
Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart,
And, armed himself in panoply complete
Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms,
Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule
Of holy difcipline, to glorious war,
The facramental hoft of God's elect!
Are all fuch teachers?-would to heaven all were!
But hark-the doctor's voice!-faft wedged between
Two empirics he ftands, and with fwoln cheeks
Infpires the news, his trumpet. Keener far
Than all invective is his bold harangue,
While through that public organ of report
He hails the clergy; and, defying fhame,
Announces to the world his own and their's!
He teaches those to read, whom schools difmiffed,
And colleges, untaught; fells accent, tone,
And emphasis in score, and gives to prayer
The adagio and andante it demands.
He grinds divinity of other days
Down into modern ufe; transforms old print
To zig-zag manufcript, and cheats the eyes
Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.
Are there who purchase of the doctor's ware?
Ob, name it not in Gath!-it cannot be,
That grave and learned clerks should need fuch aid.
He doubtlefs is in sport, and does but droll,
Affuming thus a rank unknown before-
Grand caterer and dry-nurse of the church!
I venerate the man, whose heart is warm, Whofe hands are pure, whofe doctrine and whose life
Coincident exhibit lucid proof
That he is honeft in the facred caufe.
To fuch I render more than mere respect, Whofe actions fay that they refpect themselves.
But loose in morals, and in manners vain,
In conversation frivolous, in dress
Extreme, at once rapacious and profufe;
Frequent in park with lady at his fide,
Ambling and prattling scandal as he goes;
But rare at home, and never at his books,
Or with his pen, fave when he fcrawls a card;
Conftant at routs, familiar with a round
Of ladyships, a stranger to the poor;
Ambitious of preferment for its gold,
And well-prepared, by ignorance and floth,
By infidelity and love of world,
To make God's work a finecure; a flave
To his own pleasures and his patron's pride:
From fuch apoftles, oh ye mitred heads,
Preferve the church! and lay not careless hands
On fculls, that cannot teach, and will not learn.
Would I defcribe a preacher, fuch as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, Paul fhould himself direct me. I would trace His mafter-ftrokes, and draw from his defign. I would express him fimple, grave, fincere; In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, And plain in manner; decent, folemn, chaste,
And natural in gefture; much impreffed
Himself, as confcious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look,
And tender in addrefs, as well becomes
A meffenger of grace to guilty men.
Behold the picture!-Is it like?-Like whom?
The things that mount the roftrum with a skip,
And then skip down again; pronounce a text;
Cry-hem; and reading what they never wrote,
Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work,
And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that minifters
And ferves the altar, in my foul I loath
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
What!-will a man play tricks, will he indulge
A filly fond conceit of his fair form,
And just proportion, fashionable mien,
And pretty face, in prefence of his God?
Or will he feek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the diamond on his lily hand,
And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,、
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames
His noble office, and instead of truth,
Difplaying his own beauty, ftarves his flock!
Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare,
And ftart theatric, practised at the glass!
I feek divine fimplicity in him,
Who handles things divine; and all befides,
Though learned with labour, and though much.
By curious eyes and judgments ill-informed,
To me is odious as the nafal twang
Heard at conventicle, where worthy men,
Mifled by cuftom, ftrain celestial themes
Through the prest noftril, fpectacle-bestrid.
Some decent in demeanour while they preach,
That task performed, relapse into themselves;
And having spoken wifely at the close
Grow wanton, and give proof to every eye,
Whoever was edified, themselves were not!
Forth comes the pocket mirror.-First we stroke
An eye-brow; next compofe a ftraggling lock;
Then with an air moft gracefully performed.
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