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therefore, we behold a fellow Christian touched with severe calamities, let us behold him with an eye of reverence, and think we see in him the arm of God made visible for his blessing and our own.

“ In conclusion, to use the words of a celebrated writer, prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater benediction, and the clearer revelation of God's favor. Yet even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as carols. And the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in describing the afflictions of Job, than the felicities of Solomon.'

The writer of this Memoir is tempted to add some extracts from an Imitation of the Thirteenth Satire of Juvenal, which were composed by the author of the above discourse about the time of his leaving school.

« On every crime attends the curse of sin,
And guilt tho' pardon'd feels the rack within ;
The injur'd here, their first revenge obtain,
And partial prætors are unjust in vain :-
Since guilt in endless horrors is involved,
Condemn’d by conscience, tho' by law absolved.
66 Believe me

tho' each rampant crime
Spread wide and wider on the wings of time,
Still, dares not indurated man, commend
The perjured cunning of a faithless friend:-
Yet if thy heart with plenteous stores content,
More curse the traitor, than the loss lament;

* Lord Bacon.

If crimes like these so oft arrest thine eyes,
As rather move thy horror, than surprize:
Why should’st thou bid the empty tears to flow?
Or weep, when weeping but augments thy woe?
Groans are a tribute due to adverse fate,
And just those sorrows which our griefs create;
But ne'er our lamentations to controul,
Marks the soft foible of a female soul:
You burst with rage at friendship’s injured name,
Accurse the traitor, and the wretch disclaim;
But he whose life thro' ninety years has run,
(In worthy Anna's better days begun :)
Can view these wonders with unalter'd mien,
His brow unruffled, and his eye serene:
Say will not time, or e'en experience teach,
That Youngs may satyrize, and Rennells preach,
Yet vice exult? — that lesson, Idler, hear;
Nor mourn misfortunes which we all must bear.

“ Let dull philosophy with book-learn’d skill,
Teach by proud precept how to balance will;
By reason's light her wayward vot’ries guide,
And curb their griefs by flattery, or by pride:
Yet happier those we name, (nor name we wrong)
Who the rough seas of stormy life along,
Have sail'd contented; by experience taught,
Those ills to suffer, which their errors brought;
With placid hopes each tort'ring pang beguile,
And welcome every sorrow with a smile.”

“ A time there was, ere England learned to school Her flippant offspring by the Gallic rule, When Britons smiled, of native worth possest; Tho' poor, contented; tho' religious, blest;

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Ere James, deserted, fled his ravish'd realm;
Or conq’ring William seized th' unguided helm;
Ere Stuart's line became the public scorn;
Ere George was thought of, or ere Ann was born;
Ere royal birth-days fill’d the bloated town,
Or beds of straw were chang’d for beds of down;
While Britain yet the mystic Three ador'd,
And own'd one God, one Spirit, and one Lord;
Ere honor was, or nature rear'd her head,
A spurious brood of sceptic error bred;
Ere civic frenzy swell’d each patriot breast,
Or reason sunk the man beneath the beast;
Ere death's red garb insulted freedom wore,
Clad in the terrors of the Gallic shore;
Ere bold adulterers, a titled crowd,
By peers ennobled and with princes proud,
In specious guise denied the Christian creed,
The crime disclaiming, tho' they own the deed;
Ere man each tie of moral duty broke,
Or PUBLIC virtue was a PUBLIC joke;

" A time there was (but, ah! that time is past)
When stricter maxims form’d the public taste;
Injustice then was held a flagrant crime,
And age enjoy'd the honors due to time;
The wealthiest list'ned to the voice of truth,
Youth rev'renc'd age, and age enlighten’d youth,
Instructive wisdom cheer'd each coming day,
And not an hour stole unimproved away.

Now if a friend repay his sacred trust,
True to his bond, and scrupulously just,
We deem such honesty of praise secure,
Tho' wonder give, what worth could scarce procure;

If e'er we view a man, whose honest heart,
Rich in itself, can spurn the gloss of art;
Fall at its Maker's feet in sacred awe,
Glow at his bounties, and revere his law;
In virtue bold despise the beaten course,
And shine a Kenyon or a Wilberforce :
With careful eyes his reverend form we trace,
And mark each feature of his awful face,
What beaming hope! What animated grace !
Anxious we watch the great portentous sight,
Lest heav'n should wrap the impious world in night;
Lest golden ears should tip the waving grain,
Or streams of milk rush whirling to the main.

“ You idly groan o'erwhelm'd in grief profound,
Because, perhaps, you've lost an hundred pound;
While thousands round that beg their daily food
Are twice as wretched, yet are twice as good;
Then cease we thus our happier lot to blame,
Happier than human merits e'er can claim,
Since watchful scrutiny, where'er we go,
Points at some deadlier wound, some keener woe;
And yet in all religion still may find
A latent blessing dealt to all mankind.”

Bursting with rage you strain your brazen voice, With all the mighty impotence of noise; “ • Hear’st thou, great heaven, (with lifted arms you

This wretch who dares your utmost pow'r defy;
And do no thunders dash him to the tomb,
No whirlwinds tear him, and no fires consume ?
Why do our pray’rs adore thy sacred name,
Unless our merits thy protection claim ?

Must rampant vice still triumph over laws,
And will not pitying heav'n avenge our cause?"
Rash mortal, cease, thy blasphemy forego,
And hear th' advice religion can bestow;
Hear what a youth, nor spurn his early years,
Can give to calm your rage, and soothe your cares ;
One who ne'er yet thro' mazy learning led,
Or thought with Newton, or with Bacon read;
Who ne'er the depths of modern science tried,
Nature his God, or reason for his guide ;
But owns a father's words in all he knows,
And feels them wiser as he older grows.

“ Let those whose griefs require a Burdett's skill,
Consult some patriot friend to check the ill;
Your common wounds a common cure demand,
Then deign to take it from an humbler hand:
If ills like these on you alone await,
By fortune tortured, and accursed by fate;
Then tear your breast, and heave the bursting sigh,
Supreme in anguish, as in misery;
'Gainst worthless man for ever shut the door,
Since virtue, truth, and friendship, are no more.
(For ravish'd wealth demands a deeper groan,
Than brothers slaughter’d, or than parents gone;
When friends and sisters seek th' untimely bier,
Scarce the hard eye can force th' unwilling tear;
But, oh! what sorrows rend the stubborn heart,
With wealth, that dearest, darling child, to part.)

66 Yet if each merchant mourn a greater loss, From Smithfield market down to Charing-Cross ; If infidels can scoff, and patriots cheat, Alike at Paul's, St. James's, and the Fleet:

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