To every class we have a school assign'd,
Rules for all ranks and food for every mind;
Yet one there is, that small regard to rule
Or study pays, and still is deem'd a school:
That, where a deaf, poor, patient widow sits,
And awes some thirty infants as she knits;
Infants of humble, busy wives, who pay
Some trifling price for freedom through the day.
At this good matron's hut the children meet,
Who thus becomes the mother of the street.
Her room is small, they cannot widely stray—
Her threshold high, they cannot run away;
Though deaf, she sees the rebel-heroes shout;—
Though lame, her white rod nimbly walks about;
With band of yarn she keeps offenders in,
And to her gown the sturdiest rogue can pin.
Aided by these, and spells, and tell-tale birds,
Her power they dread and reverence her words.
To learning's second seats we now proceed,
Where humming students gilded primers read;
Or books with letters large and pictures gay,
To make their reading but a kind of play—
"Reading made Easy," so the titles tell;
But they who read must first begin to spell.
There may be profit in these arts, but still
Learning is labour, call it what you will—
Upon the youthful mind a heavy load;
Nor must we hope to find the royal road.
Some will their easy steps to science show,
And some to heav'n itself their by-way know;
Ah! trust them not;—who fame or bliss would share,
Must learn by labour, and must live by care.
Another matron of superior kind
For higher schools prepares the rising mind;
Preparatory she her learning calls,
The step first made to colleges and halls.
She early sees to what the mind will grow,
Nor abler judge of infant-powers I know;
She sees what soon the lively will impede,
And how the steadier will in turn succeed;
Observes the dawn of wisdom, fancy, taste,
And knows what parts will wear and what will waste:
She marks the mind too lively, and at once
Sees the gay coxcomb and the rattling dunce.
Long has she lived, and much she loves to trace
Her former pupils, now a lordly race;
Whom when she sees rich robes and furs bedeck,
She marks the pride which once she strove to check.
A burgess comes, and she remembers well
How hard her task to make his worship spell;
Cold, selfish, dull, inanimate, unkind,
'Twas but by anger he display'd a mind;
Now civil, smiling, complaisant, and gay,
The world has worn th' unsocial crust away;
That sullen spirit now a softness wears,
And, save by fits, e'en dulness disappears:
But still the matron can the man behold,
Dull, selfish, hard, inanimate, and cold.
A merchant passes;—"probity and truth,
Prudence and patience, mark'd thee from thy youth."
Thus she observes, but oft retains her fears
For him, who now with name unstain'd appears;
Nor hope relinquishes for one who yet
Is lost in error and involved in debt;
For latent evil in that heart she found,
More open here, but here the core was sound.
Various our day-schools: here behold we one
Empty and still;—the morning duties done,
Soil'd, tatter'd, worn, and thrown in various heaps,
Appear their books, and there confusion sleeps;
The workmen all are from the Babel fled,
And lost their tools, till the return they dread.
Meantime the master, with his wig awry,
Prepares his books for business by-and-by.
Now all th' insignia of the monarch laid
Beside him rest, and none stand by afraid;
He, while his troop light-hearted leap and play,
Is all intent on duties of the day;
No more the tyrant stern or judge severe,
He feels the father's and the husband's fear.
Ah! little think the timid trembling crowd,
That one so wise, so powerful, and so proud,
Should feel himself, and dread the humble ills
Of rent-day charges and of coalman's bills;
That, while they mercy from their judge implore,
He fears himself—a knocking at the door;
And feels the burthen as his neighbour states
His humble portion to the parish-rates.
They sit th' allotted hours, then eager run,
Rushing to pleasure when the duty's done;
His hour of leisure is of different kind,
Then cares domestic rush upon his mind;
And half the ease and comfort he enjoys,
Is when surrounded by slates, books, and boys.
Poor Reuben Dixon has the noisiest school
Of ragged lads, who ever bow'd to rule;
Low in his price—the men who heave our coals,
And clean our causeways, send him boys in shoals.
To see poor Reuben, with his fry beside—
Their half-check'd rudeness and his half-scorn'd pride—
Their room, the sty in which th' assembly meet,
In the close lane behind the Northgate-street;
T' observe his vain attempts to keep the peace,
Till tolls the bell, and strife and troubles cease,
Calls for our praise; his labour praise deserves,
But not our pity; Reuben has no nerves.
'Mid noise and dirt, and stench, and play, and prate,
He calmly cuts the pen or views the slate.
But Leonard!—yes, for Leonard's fate I grieve,
Who loathes the station which he dares not leave;
He cannot dig, he will not beg his bread;
All his dependence rests upon his head;
And, deeply skill'd in sciences and arts,
On vulgar lads he wastes superior parts.
Alas! what grief that feeling mind sustains,
In guiding hands and stirring torpid brains;
He whose proud mind from pole to pole will move,
And view the wonders of the worlds above;
Who thinks and reasons strongly—hard his fate,
Confined for ever to the pen and slate.
True, he submits, and when the long dull day
Has slowly pass'd, in weary tasks, away,
To other worlds with cheerful view he looks,
And parts the night between repose and books.
Amid his labours, he has sometimes tried
To turn a little from his cares aside;
Pope, Milton, Dryden, with delight has seized,
His soul engaged and of his trouble eased.
When, with a heavy eye and ill-done sum,
No part conceived, a stupid boy will come;
Then Leonard first subdues the rising frown,
And bids the blockhead lay his blunders down;
}
O'er which disgusted he will turn his eye,
}
To his sad duty his sound mind apply,
}
And, vex'd in spirit, throw his pleasures by.
Turn we to schools which more than these afford—
The sound instruction and the wholesome board;
And first our school for ladies:—pity calls
For one soft sigh, when we behold these walls,
Placed near the town, and where, from window high,
The fair, confined, may our free crowds espy,
With many a stranger gazing up and down,
And all the envied tumult of the town;
May, in the smiling summer-eve, when they
Are sent to sleep the pleasant hours away,
Behold the poor (whom they conceive the bless'd)
Employ'd for hours, and grieved they cannot rest.
Here the fond girl, whose days are sad and few
Since dear mamma pronounced the last adieu,
Looks to the road, and fondly thinks she hears
The carriage-wheels, and struggles with her tears.
All yet is new, the misses great and small,
Madam herself, and teachers, odious all;
From laughter, pity, nay command, she turns,
But melts in softness, or with anger burns;
Nauseates her food, and wonders who can sleep
On such mean beds, where she can only weep.
She scorns condolence—but to all she hates
Slowly at length her mind accommodates;
Then looks on bondage with the same concern
As others felt, and finds that she must learn
As others learn'd—the common lot to share,
To search for comfort and submit to care.
There are, 'tis said, who on these seats attend,
And to these ductile minds destruction vend;
Wretches (to virtue, peace, and nature, foes)
To these soft minds, their wicked trash expose;
Seize on the soul, ere passions take the sway,
And lead the heart, ere yet it feels, astray:
Smugglers obscene!—and can there be who take
Infernal pains, the sleeping vice to wake?
Can there be those, by whom the thought defiled
Enters the spotless bosom of a child?
}
By whom the ill is to the heart convey'd,
}
Who lend the foe, not yet in arms, their aid,
}
And sap the city-walls before the siege be laid?
Oh! rather skulking in the by-ways steal,
And rob the poorest traveller of his meal;
Burst through the humblest trader's bolted door;
Bear from the widow's hut her winter-store;
With stolen steed on highways take your stand,
Your lips with curses arm'd, with death your hand;—
}
Take all but life—the virtuous more would say,
}
Take life itself, dear as it is, away,
}
Rather than guilty thus the guileless soul betray.
Years, pass away—let us suppose them past,
Th' accomplish'd nymph for freedom looks at last;
All hardships over, which a school contains,
The spirit's bondage and the body's pains;
Where teachers make the heartless, trembling set
Of pupils suffer for their own regret;
Where winter's cold, attack'd by one poor fire,
Chills the fair child, commanded to retire;
She felt it keenly in the morning air,
Keenly she felt it at the evening prayer.
More pleasant summer; but then walks were made
Not a sweet ramble, but a slow parade;
They moved by pairs beside the hawthorn-hedge,
Only to set their feelings on an edge;
And now at eve, when all their spirits rise,
Are sent to rest, and all their pleasure dies;
Where yet they all the town alert can see,
And distant plough-boys pacing o'er the lea.
These and the tasks successive masters brought—
The French they conn'd, the curious works they wrought,
The hours they made their taper fingers strike,
Note after note, all dull to them alike;
Their drawings, dancings on appointed days,
Playing with globes, and getting parts of plays;
The tender friendships made 'twixt heart and heart,
When the dear friends had nothing to impart:—
All! all! are over;—now th' accomplished maid
Longs for the world, of nothing there afraid.
Dreams of delight invade her gentle breast,
And fancied lovers rob the heart of rest;
At the paternal door a carriage stands,
Love knits their hearts, and Hymen joins their hands.
Ah!—world unknown! how charming is thy view,
Thy pleasures many, and each pleasure new!
Ah!—world experienced! what of thee is told?
How few thy pleasures, and those few how old!
Within a silent street, and far apart
From noise of business, from a quay or mart,
Stands an old spacious building, and the din
You hear without, explains the work within;
Unlike the whispering of the nymphs, this noise
Loudly proclaims a "boarding-school for boys."
The master heeds it not, for thirty years
Have render'd all familiar to his ears;
He sits in comfort, 'mid the various sound
Of mingled tones for ever flowing round;
Day after day he to his task attends—
Unvaried toil, and care that never ends.
Boys in their works proceed; while his employ
Admits no change, or changes but the boy;
Yet time has made it easy;—he beside
Has power supreme, and power is sweet to pride.
But grant him pleasure;—what can teachers feel,
Dependent helpers always at the wheel?
Their power despised, their compensation small,
Their labour dull, their life laborious all;
Set after set, the lower lads to make
Fit for the class which their superiors take;
The road of learning for a time to track
In roughest state, and then again go back;
Just the same way on other troops to wait—
Attendants fix'd at learning's lower gate.
The day-tasks now are over;—to their ground
Rush the gay crowd with joy-compelling sound;
Glad to [elude] the burthens of the day,
The eager parties hurry to their play.
Then in these hours of liberty we find
The native bias of the opening mind;
They yet possess not skill the mask to place,
And hide the passions glowing in the face;
Yet some are found—the close, the sly, the mean,
Who know already all must not be seen.
Lo! one who walks apart, although so young,
He lays restraint upon his eye and tongue;
Nor will he into scrapes or dangers get,
And half the school are in the stripling's debt.
Suspicious, timid, he is much afraid
Of trick and plot—he dreads to be betray'd;
He shuns all friendship, for he finds they lend,
When lads begin to call each other friend.
Yet self with self has war; the tempting sight
Of fruit on sale provokes his appetite;—
}
See! how, he walks the sweet seduction by;
}
That he is tempted, costs him first a sigh—
}
'Tis dangerous to indulge, 'tis grievous to deny!
This he will choose, and whispering asks the price.
The purchase dreadful, but the portion nice;
Within the pocket he explores the pence;
Without, temptation strikes on either sense,
The sight, the smell;—but then he thinks again
Of money gone! while fruit nor taste remain.
Meantime there comes an eager thoughtless boy,
Who gives the price and only feels the joy:
Example dire! the youthful miser stops,
And slowly back the treasured coinage drops.
Heroic deed! for should he now comply,
Can he to-morrow's appetite deny?
Beside, these spendthrifts who so friendly live,
Cloy'd with their purchase, will a portion give.—
Here ends debate, he buttons up his store,
And feels the comfort that it burns no more,
Unlike to him the tyrant-boy, whose sway
All hearts acknowledge; him the crowds obey:
At his command they break through every rule;
Whoever governs, he controls the school;
'Tis not the distant emperor moves their fear,
But the proud viceroy who is ever near.
Verres could do that mischief in a day,
For which not Rome, in all its power, could pay;
And these boy-tyrants will their slaves distress,
And do the wrongs no master can redress.
}
The mind they load with fear; it feels disdain
}
For its own baseness; yet it tries in vain
}
To shake th' admitted power;—the coward comes again.
'Tis more than present pain these tyrants give,
Long as we've life some strong impressions live;
And these young ruffians in the soul will sow
Seeds of all vices that on weakness grow.
Hark! at his word the trembling younglings flee;
Where he is walking none must walk but he;
See! from the winter-fire the weak retreat;
His the warm corner, his the favourite seat,
Save when he yields it to some slave to keep
Awhile, then back, at his return, to creep.
At his command his poor dependents fly,
And humbly bribe him as a proud ally;
Flatter'd by all, the notice he bestows
Is gross abuse, and bantering and blows;
Yet he's a dunce, and, spite of all his fame
Without the desk, within he feels his shame:
For there the weaker boy, who felt his scorn,
For him corrects the blunders of the morn;
And he is taught, unpleasant truth! to find
The trembling body has the prouder mind.
Hark to that shout, that burst of empty noise,
From a rude set of bluff, obstreperous boys;
They who, like colts let loose, with vigour bound,
And thoughtless spirit, o'er the beaten ground;
Fearless they leap, and every youngster feels
His Alma active in his hands and heels.
These are the sons of farmers, and they come
With partial fondness for the joys of home;
Their minds are coursing in their fathers' fields,
And e'en the dream a lively pleasure yields;
They, much enduring, sit th' allotted hours,
And o'er a grammar waste their sprightly powers;
They dance; but them can measured steps delight,
Whom horse and hounds to daring deeds excite?
Nor could they bare to wait from meal to meal,
Did they not slyly to the chamber steal,
And there the produce of the basket seize,
The mother's gift! still studious of their ease.
Poor Alma, thus oppress'd, forbears to rise,
But rests or revels in the arms and thighs[72].
"But is it sure that study will repay
The more attentive and forbearing?"—Nay!
The farm, the ship, the humble shop have each
Gains which severest studies seldom reach.
At college place a youth, who means to raise
His state by merit and his name by praise;
Still much he hazards; there is serious strife
In the contentions of a scholar's life.
Not all the mind's attention, care, distress,
Nor diligence itself, ensure success;
His jealous heart a rival's power may dread,
Till its strong feelings have confused his head,
And, after days and months, nay, years of pain,
He finds just lost the object he would gain.
But, grant him this and all such life can give,
For other prospects he begins to live;
Begins to feel that man was form'd to look
And long for other objects than a book.
In his mind's eye his house and glebe he sees,
And farms and talks with farmers at his ease;
And time is lost, till fortune sends him forth
To a rude world unconscious of his worth;
There in some petty parish to reside,
The college-boast, then turn'd the village-guide;
And, though awhile his flock and dairy please,
He soon reverts to former joys and ease:
Glad when a friend shall come to break his rest,
And speak of all the pleasures they possess'd—
Of masters, fellows, tutors, all with whom
They shared those pleasures, never more to come;
Till both conceive the times by bliss endear'd,
Which once so dismal and so dull appear'd.
But fix our scholar, and suppose him crown'd
With all the glory gain'd on classic ground;
Suppose the world without a sigh resign'd,
And to his college all his care confined;
Give him all honours that such states allow,
The freshman's terror and the tradesman's bow;
Let his apartments with his taste agree,
And all his views be those he loves to see;
Let him each day behold the savoury treat,
For which he pays not, but is paid to eat;
These joys and glories soon delight no more,
Although, withheld, the mind is vex'd and sore;
The honour too is to the place confined;
Abroad they know not each superior mind:
Strangers no wranglers in these figures see,
Nor give they worship to a high degree.
Unlike the prophet's is the scholar's case,
His honour all is in his dwelling-place;
And there such honours are familiar things;
What is a monarch in a crowd of kings?
Like other sovereigns he's by forms address'd,
By statutes govern'd and with rules oppress'd.
When all these forms and duties die away,
And the day passes like the former day,
Then, of exterior things at once bereft,
He's to himself and one attendant left;
Nay, John too goes; nor aught of service more
Remains for him; he gladly quits the door,
And, as he whistles to the college-gate,
He kindly pities his poor master's fate.
Books cannot always please, however good;
Minds are not ever craving for their food;
But sleep will soon the weary soul prepare
For cares to-morrow that were this day's care;
For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past,
And formal feasts that will for ever last.
"But then from study will no comforts rise?"
Yes! such as studious minds alone can prize;
Comforts, yea! joys ineffable they find,
Who seek the prouder pleasures of the mind:
The soul, collected in those happy hours,
Then makes her efforts, then enjoys her powers;
And in those seasons feels herself repaid,
For labours past and honours long delay'd.
No! 'tis not worldly gain, although by chance
The sons of learning may to wealth advance;
Nor station high, though in some favouring hour
The sons of learning may arrive at power;
Nor is it glory, though the public voice
Of honest praise will make the heart rejoice;
But 'tis the mind's own feelings give the joy,
Pleasures she gathers in her own employ—
Pleasures that gain or praise cannot bestow,
Yet can dilate and raise them when they flow.
For this the poet looks the world around,
Where form and life and reasoning man are found.
He loves the mind in all its modes to trace,
And all the manners of the changing race;
Silent he walks the road of life along,
And views the aims of its tumultuous throng;
He finds what shapes the Proteus-passions take,
And what strange waste of life and joy they make,
And loves to show them in their varied ways,
With honest blame or with unflattering praise.
'Tis good to know, 'tis pleasant to impart,
These turns and movements of the human heart;
The stronger features of the soul to paint,
And make distinct the latent and the faint;
Man as he is, to place in all men's view,
Yet none with rancour, none with scorn pursue;
Nor be it ever of my portraits told,—
"Here the strong lines of malice we behold."—
This let me hope, that when in public view
I bring my pictures, men may feel them true;
"This is a likeness," may they all declare,
"And I have seen him, but I know not where;"
For I should mourn the mischief I had done,
If as the likeness all would fix on one.
Man's vice and crime I combat as I can,
But to his God and conscience leave the man;
I search (a [Quixote!]) all the land about,
To find its giants and enchanters out,
(The giant-folly, the enchanter-vice,
Whom doubtless I shall vanquish in a trice;)
But is there man whom I would injure?—no!
I am to him a fellow, not a foe—
A fellow-sinner, who must rather dread
The bolt, than hurl it at another's head.
No! let the guiltless, if there such be found,
Launch forth the spear, and deal the deadly wound;
How can I so the cause of virtue aid,
Who am myself attainted and afraid?
Yet, as I can, I point the powers of rhyme,
And, sparing criminals, attack the crime.
FOOTNOTES:
[72] Should any of my readers find themselves at a loss in this place, I beg leave to refer them to a poem of Prior, called Alma, or the Progress of the Mind.
ERRATA
[Except in the case of short poems with unnumbered lines, or in that of prefaces, mottos, notes &c. the line of the poem, not the line of the page, is cited.]
- Page 1 l. 11 for chests read chiefs.
- p. 3 l. 5 for she's a read she, "'s a.
- p. 4 l. 2 for beaut'y read beauty's.
- p. 5 l. 18 for moans read mourn.
- p. 7 l. 9 for stand read stands.
- p. 9 l. 1 for Shenstone's read Byrom's.
- p. 14 l. 31 for nature read Nature's.
- p. 20 l. 75 for devine read divine.
- ib. l. 90 for unwraught read unwrought.
- ib. l. 102 for pleasures read pleasure's.
- p. 21 l. 116 for distant read distance.
- p. 23 l. 186 for desturb read disturb.
- ib. l. 196 for titt'ring read titt'rings.
- ib. note for puris read purus.
- p. 24 l. 214 for sits read sets.
- ib. l. 226 for fall read pall.
- ib. for refind read refin'd.
- p. 27 l. 82 for to humble or to brave read too humble or too brave.
- p. 28 l. 101 for Errors read Error's.
- p. 30 l. 153 for be read by.
- p. 48 l. 41 for Meonides read Mæonides.
- ib. l. 54 for triump'd read triumph'd.
- ib. l. 61 for Wonders read wanders.
- p. 49 l. 67 for Titerus read Tityrus.
- ib. l. 69 for Neareds read Nereids.
- ib. l. 83 for glomiest read gloomiest.
- ib. l. 87 for Thompson read Thomson.
- ib. l. 89 for years Verdent read year's Verdant.
- ib. l. 91 for Aspin read Aspen.
- p. 50 l. 104 for Vally read Valley.
- ib. l. 111 for glomier read gloomier.
- ib. l. 118 for Challange read Challenge.
- p. 51 l. 142 for Disapointment read Disappointment.
- ib. l. 149 for Currant read Current.
- ib. l. 160 for Eccho's read Echo's.
- p. 52 l. 185 for ignious read igneous.
- ib. l. 201 for not read out.
- ib. l. 212 for ages read age's.
- ib. l. 215 for ratling read rattling.
- p. 53 l. 235 for Simphony read Symphony.
- ib. l. 237 for Scence read Scene.
- p. 55 l. 295 for Fiend, fang'd read Fiend and fang'd.
- ib. l. 297 for thretned read threaten'd.
- ib. l. 313 for Rotteness read Rottenness.
- p. 56 l. 343 for distinguis'd read distinguish'd.
- ib. l. 351 for Worldwind's read Whirlwind's.
- p. 57 l. 379 for dispis'd read despis'd.
- p. 59 l. 439 for beseige read besiege.
- ib. l. 441 for tenaceous read tenacious.
- ib. l. 446 for Death Thoughts read Death, Thought's.
- ib. l. 466 for Emminence read Eminence.
- p. 82 note for Od. 8 read Od. 6.
- p. 87 l. 8 for Paneg. ad Pisones, Lucan read Paneg. ad Pisones.
- p. 115 l. 543 for reverend read reverent.
- p. 123 l. 118 for Theirs read Their.
- p. 146 l. 157 for Indited read Indicted.
- p. 152 l. 393 for silly read slily.
- p. 155 l. 8 for teneres read teneras.
- ib. l. 15. The reading in Shakspere is not furnish up, but finish up.
- p. 158 l. 8 for restat read restet.
- p. 161 l. 139 for cives read chives.
- p. 182 l. 63 not in inverted commas.
- p. 187 ll. 235-6 not in inverted commas.
- p. 205 l. 270 for passion read passions.
- p. 211 l. 507 for Snowden's read Snowdon's.
- p. 212 ll. 551-2 not in inverted commas.
- p. 230 l. 214 for One read one.
- p. 232 l. 319 for Reubens read Rubens.
- ib. l. 320 for shall read shalt.
- p. 237 l. 96 for If read In.
- p. 238 l. 11. I'll know no more, not printed as beginning of new stanza.
- p. 239 l. 36 not printed as beginning of new stanza.
- ib. not in inverted commas.
- p. 251 l. 4 for 22 read 22 and 23.
- p. 252 l. 5 for dolor read labor.
- p. 256 l. 4 for deplorant read deplangunt.
- p. 257 l. 22 for elmin read elmen.
- p. 284 l. 7 for scenes read place hath.
- ib. l. 15 for discutient read discutiunt.
- ib. l. 17 for ver. 520 read vv. 519-523.
- p. 289 l. 154 (Lonely yet public stands) not enclosed sic in brackets.
- p. 292 l. 299 for suceeds read succeeds.
- p. 301 l. 266 for thoughts and spirits read thoughts' and spirit's.
- p. 303 l. 13 for of read o'er.
- ib. l. 14 for while read whilst.
- p. 307 l. 132 for Comes read Come.
- p. 313 l. 6 for Churches read Church's.
- ib. l. 12 for knew read know.
- ib. l. 14 for Oh! read Ah!
- p. 327 l. 528 for staid read stay'd.
- p. 328 l. 12 for xxvii. read xxviii.
- p. 329 l. 6 for leader read captain.
- ib. l. 8 for beer: all read beer ... all.
- ib. ib. for I read and I.
- ib. ll. 10, 11 for and they shall all worship me as read and worship me.
- p. 336 l. 7 for Manilius read Plaut. Trucul.
- p. 340 l. 114 for professions read professions'.
- p. 347 instead of ll. 4, 5 read as in text:
Finirent multi letho mala; credula vitam
Spes alit, et melius cras fore semper ait.
- p. 364 l. 6 for Catull, lib. 3 read (Dionys.) Cato De Moribus III. 7.
- ib. l. 7 for fatiscat read fatiscit.
- p. 374 l. 14 for Et read Sed.
- ib. for juncta read multa.
- p. 407 l. 7 for pool read pond.
- ib. l. 9 is followed in Shakspere by the line:
'Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit.'
- p. 417 l. 5 for quia read quam.
- ib. l. 12 for tibi read cui.
- ib. l. 15 for blessing read blessings.
- p. 422 l. 147 for reverend read reverent.
- p. 428 l. 114 for blissing read blessing.
- p. 431 l. 5 six lines follow after 'Burning Lamp.'
- ib. for wast read wert.
- ib. l. 7 five lines follow after this fire.
- ib. 'An everlasting bonfire light!' follows after 'perpetual triumph.'
- ib. l. 8 for in a read with thee in the.
- p. 439 l. 4 for who read that.
- ib. l. 5 for in time read in the time.
- p. 451 l. 71 for birth read berth.
- p. 480 l. 4 for Coepis read Coepisti.
- ib. for desines read desinis.
- p. 485 l. 166 for then read than.
- p. 502 l. 7 for my read our.
- p. 512 l. 24 six lines follow after at taw.
- p. 519 l. 250 for illude read elude.
- p. 524 l. 452 for Quixotte! read Quixote!
The (mis)quotation from Ovid in p. 5 cannot be identified; the lines quoted on p. 284 as 'Pope's Homer's Iliad, bk. vi. line 45' are not to be found in that work; and the stanza attributed on p. 294 to Percy is not traceable to the Reliques.
VARIANTS.
POEMS. Dedication and Preface. Variants in edition of 1807 (first edition).
Dedication:
Preface:
- p. 90, l. 11. enquiry.
- l. 27. judgement.
- p. 91, l. 23. among.
- l. 32. as Mr Boswell (since Lord Auchinleck) has told.
- p. 92, l. 7. suspence.
- p. 93, l. 2, my friends.
- l. 5. judgement.
- l. 9. blameable.
- p. 94, l. 13. such opinion.
- l. 18. Charles-James.
- l. 28. criticizing.
- l. 36. judgement.
- p. 95, l. 12. judgement.
- l. 15. Lope de Vega.
- l. 22. an high degree.
- l. 26. Lope de Vega.
- p. 96, l. 20. judgement.
- l. 26. in a beneficed clergyman.
- p. 97, l. 23. Baptisms.
- l. 31. enquiry.
- p. 98, l. 25. judgement.
- l. 26. intitled.
- p. 99, l. 8. judgement.
- l. 14. or the exultation.
THE LIBRARY. Variants in edition of 1781 (first edition).
- l. 16. for wo: woe.
- l. 22. prevail.
- l. 28. her old.
- instead of ll. 51-54:
Come then, and entering view this spacious scene,
This sacred dome, this noble magazine;
- l. 57. asswage.
- instead of ll. 63-178:
In this selection, which the human mind
With care has made; for Glory has design'd,
All should be perfect; or at least appear
From falshood, vanity, and passion clear:
But man's best efforts taste of man, and show
The poor and troubled source from whence they flow;
His very triumphs his defeats must speak,
And ev'n his wisdom serves to prove him weak.
Fashion, though Folly's child, and guide of fools,
Rules e'en the wisest, and in Learning rules;
From courts and crowds to Wisdom's seat she goes,
And reigns triumphant o'er her mother's foes:
Yon Folios, once the darlings of the mode,
Now lie neglected like the birth-day ode;
There Learning, stuff'd with maxims trite though sage,
Makes Indigestion yawn at every page;
Chain'd like Prometheus, lo! the mighty train
Brave Time's fell tooth, and live and die again;
And now the scorn of men and now the pride,
The sires respect them, and the sons deride.
- l. 183. every note and every comment.
- l. 197. is.
- l. 200. your judges are your rivals.
- instead of ll. 201-322:
}
But ne'er, discourag'd, fair attempts lay by,
}
For Reason views them with approving eye,
}
And Candour yields what cavillers deny.
She sees the struggles of the soul to steer
Through clouds and darkness, which surround us here,
And, though the long research has ne'er prevail'd,
Applauds the trial and forgets it fail'd.
- followed by ll. 105—140 of the text; then continuing:
Wits, Bards and Idlers fill a tatter'd row;
And the vile Vulgar lie disdain'd below.
Amid these works, on which the eager eye
Delights to fix, or glides reluctant by
Where all combin'd their decent pomp display,
Where shall we first our early offering pay?
To thee Philosophy! to thee, the light,
The guide of mortals through their mental night,
By whom the world in all its views is shown,
Our guide through Nature's works, and in our own;
}
Who place in order Being's wondrous chain,
}
Save where those puzzling, stubborn links remain,
}
By art divine involv'd, which man can ne'er explain.
These are thy volumes; and in these we look,
As abstracts drawn from Nature's larger book;
Here first describ'd the humble glebe appears,
Unconscious of the gaudy robe it wears;
All that the earth's profound recesses hide,
And all that roll beneath the raging tide;
The sullen gem that yet disdains to shine,
And all the ductile matter of the mine.
Next to the vegetable tribes they lead,
Whose fruitful beds o'er every balmy meed
Teem with new life, and hills, and vales, and groves,
Feed the still flame, and nurse the silent loves;
Which, when the Spring calls forth their genial power
Swell with the seed, and flourish in the flower:
There, with the husband-slaves, in royal pride,
Queens, like the Amazons of old, reside;
There, like the Turk, the lordly husband lives,
And joy to all the gay seraglio gives;
There, in the secret chambers, veil'd from sight,
A bashful tribe in hidden flames delight;
There, in the open day, and gaily deck'd,
The bolder brides their distant lords expect;
Who with the wings of love instinctive rise,
And on prolific winds each ardent bridegroom flies.
Next are that tribe whom life and sense inform,
The torpid beetle, and the shrinking worm;
And insects, proud to spread their brilliant wing,
To catch the fostering sunbeams of the spring;
That feather'd race, which late from winter fled,
To dream an half-existence with the dead;
Who now, returning from their six months' sleep,
Dip their black pinions in the slumbering deep;
Where, feeling life from stronger beams of day,
The scaly myriads of the ocean play.
Then led by Art through Nature's maze, we trace
The sullen people of the savage race;
And see a favourite tribe mankind attend,
And in the fawning follower find the friend.
- l. 346. virtues seek.
- l. 390. subtle.
- l. 408. a song.
- l. 410. did ne'er
- l. 422. Abridgements.
- l. 431. cries.
- instead of l. 432:
Ere laws arose, ere tyrants bade them rise;
- l. 435. no tumults.
- instead of ll. 441-2:
Bound by no tyes but those by nature made,
Virtue was law, and gifts prevented trade.
- l. 444. chearless.
- instead of l. 454:
Taught by some conquering friends who came as foes.
- l. 477. Primæval.
- After l. 478:
Now turn from these, to view yon ampler space,
There rests a sacred, grave and solemn race;
There the devout an awful station keep,
Vigils advise and yet dispose to sleep;
}
There might they long in lasting peace abide
}
But controversial authors lie beside,
}
Who friend from friend and sire from son divide:
Endless disputes around the world they cause
Creating now, and now controuling laws.
- followed by ll. 223-266 of the text, with the ensuing variations:
- ll. 237-244:
Calvin grows gentle in this silent coast,
Nor finds a single heretic to roast:
Here, their fierce rage subdu'd, and lost their pride
The Pope and Luther slumber side by side:
- l. 245. whom the Church's.
- l. 248. Crumbs.
- ll. 249-256 omitted.
- instead of l. 257:
And let them lie—for lo! yon gaudy frames.
- l. 259. dread.
- l. 260. sparks of Grace.
- l. 265. prophane, or impiously.
- l. 537. What tho' neglect has shed.
- l. 550. dæmons.
- l. 555. strait.
- l. 578. tipling.
- l. 595. fancy'd.
THE VILLAGE. Variants in edition of 1783 (first edition).
- Synopsis of contents omitted.
- l. 5. forms.
- instead of ll. 7-8:
Fled are those times, if e'er such times were seen,
When rustic poets prais'd their native green;
- l. 18. echo's.
- l. 31. one chief cause.
- instead of ll. 33-35:
They ask no thought, require no deep design,
But swell the song and liquefy the line;
The gentle lover takes the rural strain.
- l. 40. gazes.
- l. 59. sooth.
- l. 76. And the wild tare clings round.
- instead of ll. 99-100:
And foil'd beneath the young Ulysses fell;
When peals of praise the merry mischief tell?
- l. 107. Or, yielding part (when equal knaves contest).
- l. 108. for the rest.
- l. 118. their's.
- after l. 143:
Like him to make the plenteous harvest grow,
And yet not share the plenty they bestow;
- l. 153. as luxury.
- instead of ll. 166-7:
Or will you urge their homely, plenteous fare,
Healthy and plain and still the poor man's share?
- instead of l. 171:
As you who envy would disdain to touch.
- l. 183. its own.
- l. 189. straitest.
- l. 197. And urge the efforts.
- l. 204. rouz'd.
- l. 219. Slow in their gifts, but.
- l. 223. woe.
- l. 265. is all.
- l. 271. Nor wipes.
- l. 273. Nor promise.
- l. 295. mutely hastens to the grave.
- instead of ll. 312-13:
Sure in his shot his game he seldom mist,
And seldom fail'd to win his game at whist;
- l. 325. oh! Death.
- l. 327. farmer gets.
THE VILLAGE.
- Synopsis of contents omitted.
- l. 30. began.
- l. 52. the Lord's.
- l. 55. Hear too.
- instead of ll. 59-62:
How their maids languish, while their men run loose,
And leave them scarce a damsel to seduce.
- instead of l. 68:
One cup, and that just serves to make them foes;
- l. 70. And batter'd faces end.
- l. 85. faultering.
- l. 102. you reckon great.
- instead of ll. 111-112:
Who gave up pleasures you could never share,
For pain which you are seldom doom'd to bear,
- instead of ll. 161-2:
But Rutland's virtues shall his griefs restrain,
And join to heal the bosom where they reign.
- l. 165. Hush the loud grief.
- l. 168. can please.
- l. 172. not valu'd.
- l. 176. terror.
- instead of l. 177:
But 'tis the spirit that is mounting high.
- l. 178. a native.
- l. 193. nearer woes.
- after l. 197:
Victims victorious, who with him shall stand
In Fame's fair book the guardians of the land;
- l. 201. streams go murmuring by.
- l. 204. strong stream.
THE NEWSPAPER. Variants in edition of 1785 (first edition).
- l. 37. Yet you in pity check.
- l. 38. and still vouchsafe to write.
- instead of ll. 39-40:
(While your choice works on quiet shelves remain,
Or grace the windows of the trade in vain;
Where ev'n their fair and comely sculptures fail,
Engrav'd by Grignion, and design'd by Wale)—
- instead of ll. 47-48:
But lend your aid to make my prowess known,
And puff my labours as ye puff your own.
- l. 51. or what the time they fly.
- instead of ll. 57-60:
Gray evening comes, and comes not evening gray
With all the trifling tidings of the day?
- instead of ll. 71-72:
Yet soon each reptile tribe is lost but these,
In the first brushing of the wintry breeze;
- l. 73. These still remain.
- after l. 78:
(The Oglio now appears, a rival name,
Of bolder manners, tho' of younger fame);
- l. 83. lye.
- l. 85. holy day.
- instead of l. 92:
Tomorrow Woodfall, and the world below.
- l. 104. the weak man's brain.
- after l. 126:
Soon as the chiefs, whom once they choose, lie low,
Their praise too slackens, and their aid moves slow;
Not so, when leagu'd with rising powers, their rage
Then wounds th' unwary foe, and burns along the page.
- l. 132. nor leaves the winter one.
- l. 134. Fly in successive troops this fluttering race.
- after l. 136:
- l. 155. Justice, Rector and Attorney.
- l. 160. tythe.
- instead of ll. 163-4:
Here comes the neighbouring Squire, with gracious air,
To stamp opinions, and to take the chair;
- l. 172. plagues.
- l. 175. Brook's and St Albin's.
- l. 178. owes.
- instead of ll. 190-192:
"Strive but for power, and parley but for place;"
Yet hopes, good man! "that all may still be well,"
And thanks the stars that he's a vote to sell.
- after l. 192:
While thus he reads or raves, around him wait
A rustic band and join in each debate;
Partake his manly spirit, and delight
To praise or blame, to judge of wrong or right;
Measures to mend, and ministers to make,
Till all go madding for their country's sake.
- l. 193. th' all-teeming Press.
- l. 194. These pois'nous.
- instead of ll. 211-12:
Studious we toil, correct, amend, retouch,
Take much away, yet mostly leave too much;
- l. 230. deny'd.
- l. 253. chearful.
- l. 260. And slighting theirs, make comments of their own.
- l. 266. monies.
- instead of ll. 267-8:
While the sly widow, and the coxcomb sleek,
Dive deep for scandal through a hint oblique.
- instead of ll. 273-4:
Hence on that morn no welcome post appears,
That luckless mind a sullen aspect wears;
- l. 279. Such restless passion.
- l. 280. Worse than an itch for Music or the Muse.
- l. 284. Has neither chance for cure, nor intervals of rest.
- after l. 284:
Such powers have things so vile, and they can boast
That those peruse them who despise them most.
- l. 285. Thus sung—say Muse.
- l. 294. Or coin fresh tales.
- l. 300. No British widow turns Italian bride.
- l. 304. peers give place, and own her fair.
- instead of ll. 309-312:
Such tales as these with joy the many read,
And paragraphs on paragraphs succeed;
Then add the common themes that never cease
The tide-like Stocks, their ebb and their increase;
- instead of l. 336:
And nameless murder'd in the face of day.
- l. 337. Here, first in rank, the Stage.
- l. 344. From self, and.
- l. 346. try'd.
- l. 373. gray.
- instead of ll. 379-80:
- l. 386. frizeurs.
- l. 416. sacred labours.
- l. 428. On the scroll'd bar-board, view'd too long before.
- l. 429. tipling.
- l. 438. For these no more shall live, than they shall die.
- instead of ll. 449-50:
Nameless you this way print your idle rhymes,
A thousand view them, you a thousand times:
- l. 462. Leave wealth, indulge not these but nobler fires.
- Note 1. Spleen, a poem.
The following footnotes appear in the first edition of The Newspaper, but were not reprinted:
- l. 1. The greatest part of this Poem was written immediately after the dissolution of the late parliament.
- l. 68. The Ephemera, or May-fly, is an insect remarked by naturalists for the very short time it lives, after assuming its last and more perfect form.
- l. 78. [See Variant.] The Oglio, a Sunday paper, advertised about October last.
THE PARISH REGISTER. Variants in edition of 1807 (first edition).
- Instead of ll. 43-50:
Above the mantel bound with ribband blue,
The Swain's emblazon'd Arms demand our view.
In meadow Vert, there feeds in Gules a cow,
Beneath an Argent share and Sable plough;
While for a crest, an Azure arm sustains
In Or a wheatsheaf, rich with bristling grains.
- l. 53. when tried.
- l. 54. who prov'd misfortunes.
- l. 61. that England fed.
- l. 66. That nations dreaded and that Nelson beat.
- instead of ll. 67-8:
And here will soon that other fleet be shown,
That Nelson made the ocean's and our own.
- l. 85. by famous Heads made out.
- l. 86. That teach the simple reader where to doubt.
- l. 87. That made him stop.
- l. 88. And where he wonder'd then.
- l. 112. Laid.
- instead of ll. 127-8:
These hear the parent Swain, reclin'd at ease
With half his listening offspring on his knees.
- l. 140. The tall Leek, tapering with his rushy stem.
- l. 177. who knew not sex.
- l. 193. gutters flow.
- l. 197. woe.
- l. 248. drink and play.
- l. 270. Glories unsought, the Fathers.
- l. 309. an haughty soul.
- l. 310. controul.
- l. 314. seldom shed.
- l. 339. What then was left, these Lovers to requite?
- l. 368. Higler's.
- l. 369. antient.
- instead of ll. 371-2:
Day after day were past in grief and pain,
Week after week, nor came the Youth again;
- instead of ll. 417-18:
- instead of ll. 453-60:
'Far other thoughts, your Reverence, caus'd the ill,
'Twas pure good-nature, not a wanton will;
}
They urg'd me, paid me, beg'd me to comply,
}
Not hard of heart, or slow to yield am I,
}
But prone to grant as melting charity.
For wanton wishes, let the frail-ones smart,
But all my failing is a tender heart.'
- l. 470. Gerrard.
- instead of ll. 471-2:
Seven have I nam'd, and but six years have past
By him and Judith since I bound them fast.
- l. 477. he would no more increase.
- l. 481. humbled.
- l. 521. pedlar's.
- l. 539. woe with woe.
- l. 540. "Ah! Humphrey! Humphrey!"
- l. 558. said Humphrey.
- l. 559. an husband's.
- l. 569. antient.
- instead of ll. 582-3:
To prove these arrows of the giants' hand,
Are not for man to stay or to command.
- instead of l. 604:
Of news or nothing, she by looks compel.
- l. 628. Artimisia.
- l. 631. Senecio.
- l. 649. turged Anthers.
- instead of l. 650:
"But haste and bear them to their spouse away;
In a like bed you'll see that spouse reclin'd,
(Oh! haste and bear them, they like love are blind,)
- l. 652. make the marriage sure.
- l. 663. to life's great duty, Love.
- l. 676. some notice they will claim.
- instead of ll. 678-9:
The straitest furrow lifts the ploughman's heart,
Or skill allow'd firm in the bruiser's art.
- l. 700. For he who lent a name to babe unknown.
- l. 702. they ask'd the name of all.
- l. 713. controul.
- l. 743. that seem'd.
- l. 744. that nothing meant.
- l. 748. steelly.
- l. 751. still more sure about the world.
- l. 784. Keeps looking on the ground.
- l. 785. These looks and sighs.
- l. 803. transcendant.
- l. 811. Bishoprick.
- l. 826. Passions.
- l. 833. Spencer; Spencer's.
- The note to l. 833 is omitted in the first edition.
- Instead of ll. 5-6:
If Poor, Delay shall for that Want prepare,
That, on the hasty, brings a World of Care;
- instead of l. 17:
Yet thee too long, let not thy Fears detain
- l. 19. tied.
- l. 26. Banns.
- instead of ll. 34-60.
Fie, Nathan! fie! to let a sprightly Jade
Leer on thy Bed, then ask thee how 'twas made
And lingering walk around at Head and Feet,
To see thy nightly Comforts all complete;
Then waiting seek—not what she said she sought,
And bid a Penny for her Master's Thought;—
(A Thought she knew, and thou could'st not send hence,
Well as thou lov'dst them, for ten thousand Pence!)
And thus with some bold Hint she would retire,
That wak'd the idle Wish and stirr'd the slumbering Fire;
}
Didst thou believe thy Passion all so laid
}
That thou might'st trifle with thy wanton Maid,
}
And feel amus'd, and yet not feel afraid?
The dryest Faggot, Nathan, once was green,
And laid on Embers, still some Sap is seen;
Oaks, bald like thee above, that cease to grow,
Feel yet the Warmth of Spring and Bud below;
More senseless thou than Faggot on the Fire
For thou could'st feel and yet would'st not retire;
}
Less provident than dying Trees,—for they
}
Some vital Strength, some living Fire display,
}
But none that tend to wear the Life itself away.
Ev'n now I see thee to the Altar come;
Downcast thou wert and conscious of thy Doom:
I see thee glancing on that Shape aside,
With blended Looks of Jealousy and Pride;
But growing Fear has long the Pride supprest,
And but one Tyrant rankles in thy Breast;
Now of her Love, a second Pledge appears,
And Doubts on Doubts arise, and Fears on Fears;
Yet Fear defy, and be of Courage stout,
Another Pledge will banish every Doubt;
Thine Age advancing as thy Powers retire,
Will make thee sure—What more would'st thou require?
- l. 68. antient.
- l. 96. Drew Oil, drew Essence.
- l. 100. Mrs.
- l. 269. And hid the Snare, prepar'd to catch the Maid.
- l. 290. Scrolls.
- instead of ll. 301-308:
Is it that strong and sturdy in the Field
They scorn the Arms of idle Men to wield
Or give that Hand to guide the Goosequill Tip,
That rules a Team, and brandishes a whip?
The Lions they, whom conscious Power forbid,—
To play the Ape and "dandle with the Kid."
- l. 313. For Bridget Dawdle.
- l. 317. To Roger Pluck.
- l. 321. In all his Dealings, Hodge was just and true.
- l. 340. Bridget's.
- l. 341. Roger.
- l. 351. Bridget.
- l. 353. Roger's.
- l. 355. Roger's bis.
- instead of ll. 372-375:
So two dried Sticks, all fled the vital juice,
When rubb'd and chaf'd, their latent Heat produce;
All in one part unite the cheering Rays,
And kindling burn with momentary Blaze.
- l. 380. when touch'd with Galvin's Wire.
- instead of ll. 400-1:
- l. 419. in room apart.
- l. 424. And Wives like these assert and prove their own;
- l. 430 (note). Spencer.
- l. 437. Nor sought their Bliss, at Cupid's wild Commands,
- l. 444. was her Reuben's Care;
- instead of ll. 461-66:
Nor these alone, (though favour'd more) are blest;
In time, the Rash, in time, the Wretched rest;
They first-sad years of Want and Anguish know,
Their Joys come seldom, and their Pains pass slow;
- instead of ll. 473-4:
When Life's Afflictions long with dread endur'd,
By Time are lessen'd, or by Caution cur'd;
- l. 477. And calm in Cares, with Patience, Man and Wife,
- l. 490. Quite.
- instead of ll. 491-2:
For me, (he thinks,) shall soon this Deed be done,
A few steps forward, and my Race is run;
- l. 499. He gives his Friend a tear, and heaves himself a sigh.
- l. 516. Plowman's.
- l. 521. spare, for Rapture to enjoy?
- instead of ll. 565-7:
Who caus'd the Anguish they disdain'd to heal,
Have at some time, the Power of Virtue known,
And felt another's good promote their own:
- l. 568. the youth.
- l. 569. Who took the Maid, with innocence and truth;
- l. 572. its vigour keep.
- l. 583. When Beauty all decays.
- l. 33. that sad submission.
- l. 48. as a Sinner's Right.
- l. 49. God is good.
- l. 50. And, none have liv'd, as Wisdom wills they should.
- l. 54. To think about beginning to repent.
- l. 65. That feels the useful Pain, Repentance brings.
- l. 66. Dejection's Sorrows.
- l. 67. And then, the Hope, that Heaven these Griefs approve.
- l. 68. And lastly Joy that springs.
- l. 75. Collet.
- instead of ll. 151-2:
Like that industrious Kind, no thoughts of Sex
No cares of Love, could her chaste Soul perplex.
- l. 159. welcome at her Board to share.
- After l. 172: As Bridget churn'd the Butter, for her Hand.
- l. 173. (Geese, Hens, and Turkeys following where she went.)
- l. 185. as the more.
- l. 186. She grasp'd with greater force.
- l. 212. To bear a Grandchild.
- l. 219. check the passions.
- l. 220. Youth's Disappointments, the Regrets of Age.
- instead of ll. 225-31:
Blest is the Nurseling never taught to sing,
But thrust untimely from its Mother's Wing;
Or the grown Warbler, who, with grateful Voice,
Sings its own Joy and makes the Grove rejoice;
Because, ere yet he charm'd th' attentive Ear.
- l. 278. aweful.
- l. 283. woe's.
- l. 297. Studds.
- l. 329. Catharine's.
- l. 345. And held the Golden Watch, the Ruby-Rings.
- l. 357. the Lady's.
- l. 381. On Pride that governs, Pleasure that will grow.
- l. 394. Bawbles.
- l. 412. Catharine.
- l. 428. the Joy.
- l. 431. that wounds.
- l. 432. Who miss one Comfort that.
- l. 434. He felt with many.
- l. 436. an old Neighbour.
- l. 443. he knew.
- l. 444. More skilful none, and skill'd like him, but few.
- instead of 458-60:
By the new Light, to the new Way direct;—
"Mine now are Faith and Hope," he said; "Adieu!
I fear to lose them, in a way so new."
- instead of ll. 467-8:
His honest Fame he yet retain'd; no more,
His wife was buried, and his Children poor;
- l. 473. And just, as kind.
- l. 474. And then for Comforts.
- l. 477. with him to live.
- l. 478. Who, while he feeds me, is as loath to give.
- l. 480. guages.
- l. 485. to mourn my Lot is vain.
- l. 486. Mine it is not to choose but to sustain.
- l. 495. aweful.
- l. 499. that suppliant Look.
- l. 500. Nor that pure Faith, that gave it Force are there.
- l. 510. Intic'd.
- l. 565. An House.
- l. 573. And thus he rose, but tried.
- instead of ll. 594-6:
And all was Terror, till all Hope was gone;
Was silent Terror, where that Hope grew weak,
Look'd on the Sick, and was asham'd to speak.
- l. 601. So sure.
- l. 654. Glib.
- l. 664. Glib.
- l. 670. With Luck and Leah.
- l. 675. "Nay, but," he said "and dare you.
- l. 700. Judgement.
- l. 715. Woe.
- l. 825. Ailes.
- l. 848. sly Dissenters.
- l. 863. An whoreson Cough.
- l. 882. Gypsies.
- l. 891. Aile.
- l. 921. antient.
- l. 966. while Parents them and us forsake.