While thus they pafs, the fun his glory shrouds, The changing skies hang out their fable clouds; A found in air prefag'd approaching rain, And beafts to covert fcud a-crofs the plain. Warn'd by the figns the wand'ring pair retreat, To feek for fhelter at a neighbouring feat; 'Twas built with turrets, on a rifing ground, And frong, and large, and unimprov'd around; Its owner's temper, tim'rous and severe, Unkind and griping, caus'd a defart there.

As near the Mifer's heavy doors they drew, Fierce rifing gufts with fudden fury blew ; The nimble light'ning mix'd with fhow'rs began, And o'er their heads loud rolling thunder ran. Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain Driv'n by the wind, and batter'd by the rain. At length fome pity warm'd the mafter's breaft, ('Twas then, his threshold firft receiv'd a gueft.) Slow creaking turns the door with jealous care, And half he welcomes in the fhiv'ring pair; One frugal faggot lights the naked walls, And nature's fervor thro' their limbs recalls: Bread of the coarfeft fort, with eager wine, (Each hardly granted) ferv'd them both to dine; And when the tempeft firft appear'd to cease, A ready warning bid them part in peace.

With ftill remark the pond'ring Hermit view'd In one fo rich, a life fo poor and rude; And why shou'd fuch, (within himself he cry'd) Lock the loft wealth a thousand want befide? But what new marks of wonder foon took place, In every fettling feature of his face! When from his veft the young companion bore That cup, the generous landlord own'd before, And paid profufely with the precious bowl The ftinted kindness of this churlifh foul. But now the clouds in airy tumults fly, The fun emerging opes an azure sky; A fresher green the fmelling leaves difplay, And glitt'ring as they tremble, cheer the day} The weather courts them from the poor retreat, And the glad mafter bolts the wary gate.

While hence they walk, the Pilgrim's bofom wrought With all the travel of uncertain thought;

His partner's acts without their cause appear,
'Twas there a vice, and feem'd a madness here:
Detesting that, and pitying this he goes,
Loft and confounded with the various fhows.
Now night's dim fhades again involve the sky;
Again the wand'rers want a place to lie,
Again they fearch, and find a lodging nigh.
The foil improv'd around, the mansion neat,
And neither poorly low, nor idly great:
It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind,
Content, and not for praife, but virtue kind.
Hither the walkers turn with weary feet,
Then bless the manfion, and the mafter greet:
Their greeting fair, beftow'd with modeft guife,
The courteous mafter hears, and thus replies:

Without a vain, without a grudging heart,
To him who gives us all, I yield a part;
From him you come, for him accept it here,
A frank and sober, more than coflly cheer.
He spoke, and bid the welcome table spread,
Then talk'd of virtue 'till the time of bed;
When the grave houfhold round his hall repair,
Warn'd by a bell, and close the hours with pray'r.
At length the world renew'd by calm repofe
Was ftrong for toil, the dapple morn arose;
Before the Pilgrims part, the younger crept
Near the clos'd cradle where an infant flept,
And writh'd his neck: the landlord's little pride,
O ftrange return! grew black, and gasp'd, and dy’d.
Horror of horror! what! his only fon!

How look'd our Hermit when the fact was done?
Not hell, tho' hell's black jaws in funder part,
And breathe blue fire, could more affault his heart.
Confus'd, and ftruck with filence at the deed,
He flies, but trembling fails to fly with speed.
His fteps the youth purfues; the country lay
Perplex'd with roads, a fervant fhow'd the way :
A river crofs'd the path; the paffage o'er
Was nice to find; the fervant trod before;

Long arms of oaks an open bridge supply'd,
And deep the waves beneath the bending glide.
The youth, who feem'd to watch a time to fin,
Approach'd the carelefs guide and thrust him in;
Plunging he falls, and rifing lifts his head,
Then flashing turns, and finks among the dead.
Wild, fparkling rage inflames the father's eyes,
He burfts the bands of fear, and madly cries,
Detefted wretch! but fcarce his speech began,
When the ftrange partner feem'd no longer man:
His youthful face grew more ferenely sweet;
His robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his feet
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;
Celestial odours breathe thro' purpled air;
And wings, whofe colours glitter'd on the day,
Wide at his back the gradual plumes difplay.
The form etherial burfts upon his fight,
And moves in all the majefty of light,
Tho' loud at firft the Pilgrim's paffion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wift not what to do:
Surprize in fecret chains his words fufpends,
And in a calm his fettling temper ends.
But filence here the beauteous Angel broke,
(The voice of mufick ravish'd as he spoke.)

Thy pray'r, thy praife, thy life to vice unknown, In fweet memorial rife before the throne:

These charms, fuccefs in our bright region find,
And force an Angel down, to calm thy mind:
For this commiffion'd, I forfook the sky;
Nay, cease to kneel Thy fellow fervant I.
Then know the truth of government divine,
And let these fcruples be no longer thine.
The Maker juftly claims that world he made,
In this the right of Providence is laid;
Its facred Majefty thro' all depends
On using second means to work his ends :
'Tis thus, withdrawn in state from human eye,
The pow'r exerts his attributes on high,
Your actions uses, nor controuls your will,
And bids the doubting fons of men be still.

What strange events can ftrike with more furprize Than those which lately ftruck thy wond'ring eyes?

Yet taught by thefe, confess th' Almighty juft,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
The great, vain man, who far'd on coftly food,
Whofe life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his iv'ry ftands with goblets shine,
And forc'd his guefts to morning draughts of wine,
Has, with the Cup, the graceless custom loft,
And still he welcomes, but with lefs of coft.
The mean, fufpicious wretch, whose bolted door
Ne'er mov'd in duty to the wand'ring poor;
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That heav'n can bless, if mortals will be kind,
Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compaffion touch his fordid foul.
Thus artists melt the fullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And loose from drofs the filver runs below.

Long had our pious friend in virtue trod,
But now the Child half wean'd his heart from God;
(Child of his age) for him he liv'd in pain,
And meafur'd back his fteps to earth again :
To what exceffes had his dotage run?
But God, to fave the father, took the fon.
To all but thee, in fits he seem'd to go,
And 'twas my ministry to deal the blow.
The poor fond parent, humbled in the duft,
Now owns in tears the punishment was just.

But how had all his fortunes felt a wrack,
Had that falfe fervant fped in fafety back,
This night his treafur'd heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity would fail!

Thus heav'n inftructs thy mind: this tryal o'er,
Depart in peace, refign, and fin no more.

On founding pinions here the youth withdrew,
The fage flood wond'ring as the Seraph flew.
Thus look'd ELISHA, when to mount on high,
His mafter took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp afcending left the view,
The prophet gaz'd, and wifh'd to follow too.
The bending Hermit here a prayer begun,
Lord! as in heav'n, on earth thy will be done.
M

Then gladly turning, fought his ancient place,
And pafs'd a life of piety and peace.

We shall conclude this chapter with Mr. Gay's Tale of the apparition; which, tho' written in the burlesque manner, with fuch exquifite humour, and just and pleafant raillery, is conformable to the rules here laid down for thefe compofitions.

A true STORY of an APPARITION, by Mr. GAY.

Scepticks (whofe ftrength of argument makes out
That wisdom's deep inquiries end in doubt)
Hold this affertion pofitive and clear,

That sprites are pure delufions rais'd by fear.
Not that fam'd ghoft, which in prefaging found
Call'd Brutus to Philippi's fatal ground;
Nor can Tiberius Gracchus' goary shade
These ever-doubting difputants perfuade.
Strait they with smiles reply; those tales of old
By vifionary Priests were made and told :
Oh might fome ghoft at dead of night appear,
And make you own conviction by your fear!
I know your sneers my easy faith accufe,
Which with such idle legends fcares the muse :
But think not that I tell thofe vulgar fprites,
Which frighted boys relate on winter nights;
How cleanly milk-maids meet the fairy train,
How headless horfes drag the clinking chain,
Night-roaming ghofts, by faucer eye-balls known,
The common spectres of each country-town.
No, I fuch fables can like you despise,
And laugh to hear thefe nurfe-invented lies.
Yet has not oft the fraudful guardian's fright
Compell'd him to restore an orphan's right?
And can we doubt that horrid ghosts ascend,
Which on the conscious murd'rers steps attend?
Hear then, and let attested truth prevail,
From faithful lips I learnt the dreadful tale.

Where Arden's forest spreads its limits wide,
Whofe branching paths the doubtful road divide,