On life's fair tree, faft by the throne of God:
What golden joys ambrofial cluff'ring glow,
In his fall beam, and ripen for the juft,
Wert momentary ages are no more?
Where Time and Pain, and Chance and
Death expire?

And it in the flight of threefcore years,
To eternity from human thought,
And aber fouls immortal in the duft?
Aal immortal, pending all her fires,
Waling ber Arength in firenuous idleness,
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd, or alarm'd,
Abt this fcene can threaten, or indulge,
Rembles ocean into tempeft wrought,
To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.
Wert falls this cenfure? It o'erwhelms
myfelf.

How was my heart incrufted by the world?
O bow felf-fetter'd was my groveling foul?
How, like a worm, was I wrapt round and

round.

In filken thought, which reptile Fancy pun,
Till darken'd Reafon lay quite clouded o'er
With foft conceit of endless comfort here,
Nor yet put forth her wings to reach the
fries?

Night-vifions may befriend, (as fung above)
Dar waking dreams are fatal: how Idream'd
Of things impoffible? (could fleep do more?)
Of jys perpetual in perpetual change?
Of fable pleasures on the toffing wave?
Eternal fan-fbine in the forms of life?
Hra richly were my noon-tide trances hung
With gorgeous tapestries of pictur'd joys?
Jy behind joy, in endless perspective!
Tilat Death's toll, whofe reflefs iron tongue
Calls daily for his millions at a meal,
Starting I wake, and found myself undone?
Where now my frenzy's pompous furniture?
The cobweb'd cottage with its ragged wall
Of mald'ring mud, is royalty to me!
The Spider's most attenuated thread
hard, is cable, to man's tender tie
On earthly blifs; it breaks at every breeze.
Oye bleft fcenes of permanent delight!
Fall above measure! lafting beyond bound!
Could you, fo rich in rapture, fear an end,
That ghafly thought would drink up all your
And quite unparadife the realms of light. [joy,
Safe are you lodg'd above thefe rowling
Spheres

Tn baleful influence of whofe giddy dance,
Sad fad viciffitude on all beneath.
Here teems with revolations every hour à
TOL.V.

And rarely for the better; or the best,
Mare mortal than the common births of fate.
Each moment has its fickle, emulous [fweep
Of Time's enormous fcythe, whofe ample
Strikes empires from the root; each moment
plays

His little weapon in the narrower sphere
Of fweet domeftic comfort, and cuts down
The fairest bloom of fublunary bliss.

Bliss! fublunary blifs! proud words! and
Implicit treafon to divine decree! [vain:
A bold invafion of the rights of heaven!
Iclafp'd the phantoms, and I found them air.
O bad I weigh'd it ere my fond embrace!
What darts of agony had miss'd my heart?
Death! great proprietor of all! 'tis thine
To tread out empire, and to quench the flars
The fun himself by thy permiffion fbines,
And, one day, thou shalt pluck him from his
Sphere.

Amid fuch mighty plunder, why exhauft
Thy partial quiver on a mark fo mean?
Why thy peculiar rancor wreck'd on me?
Infatiate archer! could not one fuffice? [flain;
Thy fhaft flew thrice, and thrice my peace was
And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her
born.

O Cynthia! why so pale? doft thou lament
Thy wretched neighbour ? grieve, to fee thy

wheel

Of ceafeless change out whirl'd in human life? How wanes my borrow'd blifs? From Fortune's fmile,

Precarious courtefey! not Virtue's fure,
Self-given, folar, ray of found delight.

In every vary'd pofture, place, and hour,
How widow'd every thought of every joy?
Thought, bufy thought! too bufy for my peaces
Thro the dark poftern of Time long elaps'd,
Led foftly, by the fillness of the night,
Led, like a murderer, (and fuch it proves!)
Strays, wretched rover! o'er the pleafing past,
In queft of wretchedness perverfely ftrays;
And finds all defart now; and meets the
ghofts

Of my departed joys, a numerous train!
I rue the riches of my former fate; [figh:
Sweet Comfort's blafted clusters make me
I tremble at the bleffings once fo dear;
And every pleafure pains me to the heart.
Yet why complain? or why complain for one!
Hangs out the fun his luftre but for me?
The fingle man? are angels all befide?
& mourn for millions: 'Tis the common lot $

In

So bounded are its haughty lord's delights To Woe's wide empire; where deep troubl tofs;

In this fhape, or in that, has Fate entail'd
The mother's throes on all of woman born,
Not more the children, than fure heirs of pain.
War, famine, peft, voicano, form, and fire,
Inteftine broils, Oppreffion, with her heart
Wrapt up in triple brass, befiege mankind:
God's image, difinherited of day, [made;
Here plung'd in mines, forgets a fun was
There beings deathless as their haughty lord,
Are hammer'd to the galling oar for life;
And plow the winter's wave, and reap de-
fpair:

Some, for hard masters, broken under arms,
In battle lopt away, with half their limbs,
Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valour
If fo the tyrant, or his minion, doom: [fav'd,
Want, and incurable disease, (fell pair!)
On hopeless multitudes remorseless feize
At once; and make a refuge of the grave:
How groaning hofpitals eject their dead?
What numbers groan for sad admission there?
What numbers once in Fortune's lap high-
Solicit the cold band of Charity?
To fhock us more, folicit it in vain?
Ye filken fons of pleasure! fince in pains
You rue more modifh vifits, vifit here,
And breathe from your debauch: give, and

reduce

[fed,

Surfeit's dominion o'er you: but fo great
Your impudence, you blush at what is right!
Happy! did forrow feize on fuch alone:
Not Prudence can defend, or Virtue fave;
Difeafe invades the chafleft temperance;
And punishment the guiltless; and alarm
Thro' thickeft fhades pursues the fond of peace;
Man's caution often into danger turns,
And his guard falling, crushes him to death.
Not Happiness itfelf makes good her name ;
Our very wishes give us not our wish;
How diftant oft the thing we doat on most,
From that for which we doat, felicity?
The smootheft courfe of nature has its pains,
And trueft friends, thro' error, wound our
Without misfortune, what calamities? [reft;
And what hoftilities, without a foe?
Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth:
But endless is the lift of human ills, [figh.
And fighs might fooner fail, than caufe to
A part bow small of the terraqueous globe
Is tenanted by man? the reft a waste, [fands;
Rocks, defarts, frozen feas, and burning
Wild haunts of monflers, poisons, flings, and
Such is earth's melancholy map! but far [death.
More fad! this earth is a true map of man;

In

Loud forrows bowl; envenom'd paffions bit
Ravenous calamities our vitals feize,
And threat'ning Fate wide-opens to devour
What then am 1, who forrow for myself
age, in infancy, from other's aid
Is all our hope; to teach us to be kind.
That, Nature's first, last lesson to mankina
The felfish heart deferves the pain it feels;
More generous forrow while it finks, exalt.
And confcious virtue mitigates the pang-
Nor Virtue, more than Prudence, bids me giz
Swoln thought a fecond channel; who divide
They weaken too, the torrent of their grief:
Take then, Oworld! thy much-indebted tear
How fad a fight is human happiness [bour
To thofe whofe thought can pierce beyond a
Othou! whate'er thou art, whofe heart exults
Would't thou I should congratulate thy fate.
I know thou would'ft; thy pride demands i
from me.

Let thy pride pardon, what thy nature needs
The falutary cenfure of a friend: [bleft
Thou happy wretch! by blindness art tho
By dotage dandled to perpetual fmiles.
Know, fmiler! at thy peril art thou pleas'à
Thy pleafure is the promife of thy pain.
Misfortune, like a creditor fevere,
But rifes in demand for her delay;
She makes a fcourge of paft profperity,
To fting thee more, and double thy diftrefs.

Lorenzo, Fortune makes her court to the
Thy fond heart dances, while the Syren fing
Dear is thy welfare; think me not unkind;
I would not damp, but to fecure thy joys:
Think not that fear is facred to the florm:
Stand on thy guard against the smiles of Fati
Is heaven tremendous in its frown! moft fur
And in its favours formidable too;
Its favours here are trials, not rewards ;
A call to duty, not discharge from care;
And should alarm us, full as much as woes ;
Awake us to their cause, and confequence
O'er our fcan'd conduct give a jealous eye,
And make us tremble, weigh'd with our de
fert;

Awe Nature's tumult, and chaflife her joys
Left while we clasp, we kill them; nay invert
To worse than fimple mifery, their charms
Revolted joys, like foes in civil war,
Like bofom-friendships to refentment four'd,
With rage envenom'd rise against our peace.

Be

* Beware what earth calls happiness; beware joys, but joys that never can expire: Who builds on less than an immortal bafe, Fund as be feems, condemns his joys to death. Mine dy'd with thee, Philander! thy laft figh

Did the charm; the disenchanted earth Let all her luftre; where,berglittering towers? Hr golden mountains, where? all darken'd

drwn

To naked afte; a dreary vale of tears; The great magician's dead! Thou poor, pale piece

Of cat-caft earth, in darkness! what a change From yesterday! Thy darling hope fo near, (Long-labour'd prize!) O how Ambition fuf'd

Toy glowing cheek? Ambition truly great, Of virtuouspraife: Death's fubtle feed within, (Sh,treacherous miner!) working in the dark, Emil'd at thy well-concerted Jcheme, and becken'd

The warm to riot on that role fo red,
Unfaded ere it fell; one moment's prey!
Man's forefight is conditionally wife;
Lorenzo! vijdom into folly turns
Oft, the firft inftant, its idea fair [our eye!
labouring thought is born. How dim
The prefent moment terminates our fight;
Chads thick as thofe on doomsday, drown the
We penetrate, we prophely in vain. [next;
Time is dealt out by particles; and each,
Ert mingled with the ftreaming fands of life,
By Fate's inviolable oath is forn
Deep filence, "Where eternity begins."
By Nature's law, what may be, may be

now;

There's no prerogative in human bours:
In buman bearts what bolder thought can rife,
Thanman's prefumption on to-morrow's dawn?
Where is to-morrow? In another world.
For numbers this is certain; the reverse
life to none; and yet on this perhaps,
This peradventure, infamous for lies,
A sa a rock of adamant we build
Our mountain hopes; fpin out eternal schemes,
As we the fatal fiflers cou'd out-fpin,
And, big with life's futurities, expire.

Not even Philander had bespoke his shroud;
Nor bad be caufe, a warning was deny'd ;
How many fall as fuddain, not as fafe?
As addain, tho' for years admonish'd, home?
Of human ills the last extreme beware,
Beware, Lorenzo ! a flow-fudden death.

How dreadful that deliberate furprize?
Be wife to-day, 'tis madness to defer;
Next day the fatal precedent will plead ;
Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life:
Procrastination is the thief of Time,
Year after year it feals, till all are fled,
And to the mercies of a moment leaves
The vaft concerns of an eternal scene.
If not fo frequent, would not this be firange?
That 'tis fo frequent, this is ftranger ftill.

Of man's miraculous miflakes, this bears
The palm, "That all men are about to live,"
For ever on the brink of being born :
All pay themselves the compliment to think
They, one day, fhall not drivel; and their pride
On this reverfion takes up ready praife;
At least, their own; their future felves ap-
plauds;

How excellent that life they ne'er will lead? Time lodg'd in their own hands is Folly's vails

That lodg'd in Fate's, to wifdom they confign; The thing they can't but purpose, they poft

pone ;

'Tis not in Folly, not to fcorn a fool;
And scarce in human wisdom to do more.
All promife is poor dilatory man,
And that thro' every stage: when young, in-
deed,

In full content, we fometimes nobly reft,
Unanxious for ourselves; and only wish,
As duteous fons, our fathers were more wife:
At thirty man fufpects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty chides his infamous delay,
Pushes his prudent purpofe to refolve;
In all the magnanimity of thought
Refolves; and re-refolves: then dies the fame.
And why? Because he thinks himself im-
mortal:

All men think all men mortal, but themselves; Themselves, when fome alarming Shock of fate

Strikes thro' their wounded hearts the fuddain dread;

But their hearts wounded, like the wounded

equently, more at liberty to act for the intereft of this nation. From these confiderations, as a fubject of Britain, and as g honeft man, I think myself bound, even my individual capacity, to oppole all chemes deftructive of thofe effects which in my confcience believe were the reasons that induced this free people to raise the head of the family of Hr, from being the youngest Er in Germany, to be one of the most powerful princes in EuI think that there can be no treafon equal to that of a minifter who would advife his Majefty to facrifice his great concerns to his little ones; because, as I think his Majefty's virtues have firmly rivented him in the hearts of his fubjects, he is as fure of the crown of England, as of the e-te of Hr; and therefore, every meafure in favour of the latter, in prejudice of the former, is the blackeft treaboth against the King and the people. I am next to account for the views of writing. I had always obferved of the late very wicked m-rs, that tho' they did many infamous fcandalous things, and put up with many grofs affronts in favour of foreign confiderations; yet, I will do them the juftice to fay it, the odium arifing from their measures always fell upon their perfons; and, whatever the fecret Iprings of their conduct might have been, yet we never faw the fafety and profit of H- dominions, made, in parliament itself, the immediate, open and avowed caufe of facrificing the nearest and the deareft interefts of this nation. Questions indeed were carried for Heffian troops, for extravagant fubfidies, for inconfiftent treaties, and the like; but they never had the impudence, the infolence, or the wickednels, to bring H―r and G. Britain, as two parties, before the bar of their own corruption, and then to pass a verdict, by which the latter was rendered a province to the former. It is against fuch as can be found wicked enough to do this, that this paper is undertaken; it is undertaken against thofe who have found the fecret of acquiring more infamy in ten months, than their predeceffors, with all the pains they took, could acquire in twenty years, It is intended to vindicate the honour of the crown of G. Britain, and to affert the

intereft of her people, againft all foreign confiderations; to keep up the spirit of virtuous oppofition to wicked power; to point out the means of completing the great end of the revolution; and, in short, to give the alarm upon any future attacks that may be made, either open or fecret, of the government upon the conftitution.

I am now to speak of the motives for an undertaking of this kind. Thefe are many, but fome of them perhaps not quite fo proper to be committed to the publick. We have feen the noble fruits of a twenty years oppofition blasted by the connivance and treachery of a few, who by all the ties of gratitude and honour ought to have cherished and preserved them to the people. But this difappointment ought to be fo far from difcouraging, that it should lend fpirit and life to a new oppofition, The late one laboured their point for a much longer term of years, and against many greater difficulties, than any oppofition at prefent can be under any apprehenfions of encountering. They became a majority, from a minority of not above 87 or 88 in all: they fought against an experienced General, and a national purse; and the questions they oppofed, were more plaufible in their nature, and lefs dangerous in their confequences, than any that have yet fallen within the fyftem of their blundering fucceffors. At prefent, the friends of their country, who have already declared themfelves, have advantages which their predeceffors could never compafs, even after twenty years hard labour.

I know that the conduct of those who Sneaked, and abandoned their principles upon the late change of miniftry, is fometimes made ufe of as an argument why all oppofition must be fruitless; fince all mankind, fay they, employ it only as the means of their preferment, or the inftrument of their revenge. This argument is in point of fact abfolutely falfe, and in point of reafoning extremely inconclufive. To prove it falfe in fact, I need but appeal to an understanding reader's own memory: let him recollect the characters of those who betrayed their party upon the late change, the light in which they flood with the pu blick, and the estimation they held with their own friends. Whoever shall take

the