How! leap into the pit our life to save ?
To fave our life leap all into the grave ?
For can we find it lefs? Contemplate first
The depth how awful! falling there, we burft;
Or fhould the brambles, interpos'd, our fall
In part abate, that happiness were small;
For with a race like theirs no chance I fee
Of peace or ease to creatures clad as we.
Mean time, noife kills not. Be it Dapple's bray,
Or be it not, or be it whofe it may,

And rush those other founds, that feem by tongues
Of dæmons utter'd, from whatever lungs,
Sounds are but founds, and till the caufe appear,
We have at least commodious ftanding here;
Come fiend, come fury, giant, monster, blast
From earth or hell, we can but plunge at laft.
While thus fhe fpake, I fainter heard the peals,
For Reynard, close attended at his heels

By panting dog, tir'd man, and spatter'd horse,
Through mere good fortune took a diff'rent course,
The flock grew calm again, and I, the road
Following that led me to my own abode,
Much wonder'd that the filly fheep had found
Such caufe of terror in an empty found,
So sweet to huntsman, gentleman, and hound.

}

MORAL.

Beware of defperate fteps. The darkest day (Live till to-morrow) will have pafs'd away.

COWPER.

CHAP. XXV...

THE MODERN RAKE'S PROGRESS.

THE young Tobias was his father's joy;

He train'd him, as he thought, to deeds of praise,
He taught him virtue, and he taught him truth,
And fent him early to a public school.

Here as it feem'd (but he had none to blame)
Virtue, forfook him, and habitual vice.
Grew in her stead. He laugh'd at honefty,
Became a fceptic, and could raise a doubt
E'en of his father's truth. 'Twas idly done
To tell him of another world, for wits
Knew better; and the only good on earth
Was pleasure; not to follow that was fin.
Sure he that made us, made us to enjoy ;

And why,' faid he, fhould my fond father prate 'Of virtue and religion? They afford

No joys, and would abridge the scanty few

• Of nature. Nature be my deity,

• Her let me worship, as herself enjoins,

At the full board of plenty.' Thoughtless boy! So to a libertine he grew, a wit,

He

A man of honour, boastful empty names
That dignify, the villain. Seldom feen,
And when at home under a cautious mask
Concealing the lewd foul, his father thought
grew in wifdom, as he grew in years.
He fondly deem'd he could perceive the growth
Of goodness and of learning fhooting up,
Like the young offspring of the shelter'd hop,
Unufual progrefs in a fummer's night.

He call'd him home, with great applause, dismiss'd
By his glad tutors-gave him good advice-

Blefs'd

Blefs'd him, and bade him profper. With warm heart He drew his purse strings, and the utmost doit

Pour'd in the youngfter's palm..

Go to the feat of learning, boy.

Away,' he cries,

Be good,

Be wife, be frugal, for 'tis all I can.'

'I will,' faid Toby, as he bang'd the door,

And wink'd, and snapp'd his finger, Sir, I will.'

So joyful he to Alma Mater went

A sturdy fresh man. See him juft arriv'd,
Receiv'd, matriculated, and refolv'd

To drown his freshness in a pipe of port.

Quick, Mr. Vintner, twenty dozen more;

Some claret, too.

Here's to our friends at home.

There let 'em dose. Be it our nobler aim

To live-where ftands the bottle?' Then to town

Hies the gay fpark for futile purposes,

And deeds my bashful muse disclaims to name.

From town to college, till a fresh supply

Sends him again from college up to town.
The tedious interval the mace and cue,
The tennis-court and racket, the flow lounge
From street to street, the badger-hunt, the race,
The raffle, the excurfion, and the dance,
Ices, and foups,, dice, and the bet at whift,
Serve well enough to fill. Grievous accounts
The weekly poft to the vex'd parent brings
Of college impofitions, heavy dues,
Demands enormous, which the wicked fon
Declares he does his utmost to prevent.

So, blaming with good cause the vast expence,
Bill after bill he fends, and pens the draft
Till the full ink-horn fails. With grateful heart
Toby receives, fhort leave of abfence begs,
Obtains it by a lie, gallops away,

And no one knows what charming things are doing

Till the gull'd boy returns without his pence,
And prates of deeds unworthy of a brute.
Vile deeds, but fuch as in these polish'd days
None blames or hides.

So Toby fares, nor heeds

Till terms are wafted, and the proud degree,
Soon purchas'd, comes his learned toils to crown.
He swears, and swears he knows not what, nor cares,
Becomes a perjur'd graduate, and thinks foon
To be a candidate for orders. Ah!

Vain was the hope. Tho' many a wolf as fell
Deceive the shepherd, and devour the flock,
Thou none shalt injure, On a luckless day,
Withdrawn to taste the pleasures of the town,
Heated with wine, a vehement difpute
With a detested rival fhook the roof:

He penn'd a challenge, fent it, fought, and fell.

I

CHAP. I.

ON MODESTY.

Know no two words that have been more abused by the different and wrong interpretations which are put upon them, than thefe 'two, Modefty and Affurance. To fay, fuch a one is a modeft man, fometimes indeed paffes for a good character; but at present is very often used to fignify a sheepish awkward fellow, who has neither good breeding, politenefs, nor any knowledge of the world.

AGAIN, A man of affurance, though at first it only denoted a perfon of a free and open carriage, is now very ufually applied to a profligate wretch, who can break through all the rules of decency and morality without a blush.

I SHALL endeavour, therefore, in this effay, to restore thefe words to their true meaning, to prevent the idea of Modefty from being confounded with that of fheepishness, and to hinder Impudence from paffing for Affurance.

IF I was put to define Modefty, I would call it, The reflection of an ingenuous mind, either when a man has committed an action for which he cenfures himself, or fancies that he is exposed to the cenfure of others.

For this reafon a man truly modeft is as much so when he is alone as in company, and as fubject to a blush in his clofet, às when the eyes of multitudes are upon him.