teous Judge, will give to true worth and dignity; ;-as rewards to a life adorned with all virtues and excellencies, the dikaiómata, — that is, the righteous acts of the Saints. SECTION XII. Opinion's foot is never, never found Where knowledge dwells, 'tis interdicted ground; At wifdom's gate th' opinion's muft refign Their charge, thofe limits their employ confine. Thus trading barks, fkill'd in the wat❜ry road, To diftant climes convey their precious load. Then turn their prow, light bounding o'er the main, And with new traffic ftore their keels again." Thus far is clear. But yet untold remains, What the good genius to the crowd ordains, Just on the verge of life. He bids them hold A fpirit with erected courage bold. Let not her fimile tranfport, her frown difmay, Bad bankers, vain of treasure not their own, Where Where pleasure and her harlots tempt, nor reft, And take what science may your palate hit: · Areflexion §. I. as I rid from Dr. Stanvil's houfe. W ITH this advice of the genius in my head, (which by chance I had read the morning I took my leave of Dr. Stanvil,) I let out, as I had refolved, for York, and defign'd to go from thence to London; hoping to meet with fomething good, and purpofing, if it was poffible, to be no longer the Rover, but turn to fomething ufeful, and fix. I had loft almost all at the gaming-table, (as related) and had not thirty pounds of my last hundred remaining: This, with a few sheep, cows and horfes at Orton-lodge, and a very small stock at my little farm, on the (17) As the table of Cebes does beft in profe, and the Rev. Mr. Collier the Nonjuror's tranflation of this fine mythological picture is not good, I fhall place another verfion of this table at the end of this Section. I made it at the request of a young lady, who did not like Mr. Collier's verfion. The fine picture does to be fure, in his English, look more like a work in the cant language of L'Eftrange, or Tom Brown, than the antient and charming painting of Cebes the Theban philofopher. It is fitter to make the learned men of a beer-house laugh, than to delight and improve people of breeding and understanding, borders borders of Cumberland, was all had left. It made me very ferious, and brought fome difinal apprehenfions in view: But I did not defpair. As my heart was honeft, I ftill trufted in the providence of God, and his adminiftration of things in this world. As the infinite power and wisdom of the Creator was evident, from a furvey of this magnificent and glorious fcene; as his care and providence over each particular, in the adminiftration of the great fcheme was confpicuous; can man, the favourite of heaven, have reafon to lift up his voice to complain, if he calls off his affections from folly, and by natural and fupernatural force, by reafon and revelation, overbears the prejudices of flesh and blood;-if he ponders the hopes, and fears of religion, and givesa juft allowance to a future intereft? Hearken to the commandments, (faith the Lord,) and your peace shall be as a river, 2. On then I trotted, brave as the man A tempest. of wood, we read of in an excellent French writer, (18) and hoped at the end of every mile (18) In Claude's reply to Arnaud, the French papift, we are told it was the humour of the Prince of Condé, to have a man of wood on horfe-back, dreft like a fieldofficer, with a lifted broad fword in its hand; which figure was faftened in the great faddle, and the horse it was on always kept by the great Conde's fide, when he travelled or engaged in the bloody field. Fearless the mile to meet with fomething fortunate; but nothing extraordinary occurred till the fecond evening, when I arrived at a little lone public-house, on the fide of a great heath, by the entrance of a wood. For an hour before I came to this refting-place, I had rid in a tempeft of wind, rain, lightning and thunder, fo very violent, that it brought to my remembrance old Hefiod's defcription of a ftorm. Then Jove omnipotent display'd the god, He grafps ten thousand thunders in his hand, It was a dreadful evening upon a heath, and fo much as a bufh was not to be met the man of wood appeared in many a well-fought day; but as they pursued the enemy one afternoon through a foreft, in riding hard, a bough knocked off the wooden warrior's head; yet ftill he galloped on after flying foes, to the amazement of the enemy, who faw a hero purfuing without a head. Claude applies this image to popery. |