The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse (1735-1820): Edited by the Rev. R. I. Woodhouse |
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CHAPTER 12th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse |  |
But, Crispin, Agent, in this plot employ'd,
By that fair Trader might not be denied,
'Twas now requir'd some written document,
From well-known Pen's full sanction, should be sent,
By trusty Bearer, craftily convey'd,
To stablish such a noble branch of Trade;
And, like Ambassadors, of brighter fame,
Still urge, with cunning craft, obnoxious claim,
Lest Foes of deeper skill should counteract,
And stop the progress of intended pact—
For, in such lurking traffic, always lies
Much room for doubt—suspicion—and surmise—
Lest mischief might the Vendor's views impeach
And level all to Law's opprobrious reach:
For oft the heart, which Conscience never curbs,
Some crabbed Statute cruelly disturbs;
And every contraband endeavour awes
By the stern aspect of some penal clause.
So compacts carried on, by courtly Foes,
Are full of treachery, and tricks, like those;
While, muffled up, in Cunning's mimic mask,
In spite of Justice, ply their specious task;
Making both Morals and Religion bend
To gain, by dangerous guilt, some dirty end.
By that fair Trader might not be denied,
'Twas now requir'd some written document,
From well-known Pen's full sanction, should be sent,
By trusty Bearer, craftily convey'd,
To stablish such a noble branch of Trade;
And, like Ambassadors, of brighter fame,
Still urge, with cunning craft, obnoxious claim,
Lest Foes of deeper skill should counteract,
And stop the progress of intended pact—
For, in such lurking traffic, always lies
Much room for doubt—suspicion—and surmise—
Lest mischief might the Vendor's views impeach
And level all to Law's opprobrious reach:
For oft the heart, which Conscience never curbs,
Some crabbed Statute cruelly disturbs;
And every contraband endeavour awes
By the stern aspect of some penal clause.
So compacts carried on, by courtly Foes,
Are full of treachery, and tricks, like those;
While, muffled up, in Cunning's mimic mask,
In spite of Justice, ply their specious task;
Making both Morals and Religion bend
To gain, by dangerous guilt, some dirty end.
That this advantage nothing might defer,
The manuscript must be supplied by Her
Who this clandestine Commerce long had plied,
To prove her skill, and save her pence, beside,
In types well-ascertain'd as soon as seen,
By the sharp glance of shamefaced Mrs. G---n.
The manuscript must be supplied by Her
Who this clandestine Commerce long had plied,
To prove her skill, and save her pence, beside,
In types well-ascertain'd as soon as seen,
By the sharp glance of shamefaced Mrs. G---n.
Tho' different doctrines Crispin's Conscience held,
Yet, here, supreme Authority compell'd;
Which, for a moment, silenc'd moral saws
To fit him for the breach of binding Laws;
And, by those base credentials, thus contrive
To break the business, that such Trade might thrive;
Deputed as a Man of words, but wary,
To manage every apt preliminary;
Becoming, while he fill'd this office, so,
His smuggling Patroness's Plenipo.
Yet, here, supreme Authority compell'd;
Which, for a moment, silenc'd moral saws
To fit him for the breach of binding Laws;
And, by those base credentials, thus contrive
To break the business, that such Trade might thrive;
Deputed as a Man of words, but wary,
To manage every apt preliminary;
Becoming, while he fill'd this office, so,
His smuggling Patroness's Plenipo.
When Crispin went, and hung the Signal out,
His awful Form suggested fearful doubt,
Whether he might not, from his sex, and size,
Be some insidious Traytor in disguise.
Negotiations, of that subtle kind,
Are mostly manag'd by some female Mind;
For, e'er since Eve perform'd her smuggling part,
Her Daughters are most dext'rous in that Art,
But more egregiously the Sex transgress,
In smuggling articles for fig-leaf Dress.
He well might Woman's panting heart appal,
His frame so formidably stout, and tall!
And, tho' few faces less bespoke design,
Yet all who deal in counterfeited coin,
Scan with a cautious, scrutinizing, care,
To shun each sly, insinuating snare;
And Women most suspect all mortal Elves,
Fearing those weaknesses they feel Themselves—
But, having circumstantial notice took,
With nicest scrupulosity of look,
And after many a speech—and many a pause—
While weighing Lucre with rash risque of Laws—
No longer led such Suitor to perplex,
With modest meanings, like the softer Sex,
Deign'd to insinuate, with soft words and airs,
She had, occasionally, sold such wares.
His awful Form suggested fearful doubt,
Whether he might not, from his sex, and size,
Be some insidious Traytor in disguise.
Negotiations, of that subtle kind,
Are mostly manag'd by some female Mind;
For, e'er since Eve perform'd her smuggling part,
Her Daughters are most dext'rous in that Art,
But more egregiously the Sex transgress,
In smuggling articles for fig-leaf Dress.
He well might Woman's panting heart appal,
His frame so formidably stout, and tall!
And, tho' few faces less bespoke design,
Yet all who deal in counterfeited coin,
Scan with a cautious, scrutinizing, care,
To shun each sly, insinuating snare;
And Women most suspect all mortal Elves,
Fearing those weaknesses they feel Themselves—
But, having circumstantial notice took,
With nicest scrupulosity of look,
And after many a speech—and many a pause—
While weighing Lucre with rash risque of Laws—
No longer led such Suitor to perplex,
With modest meanings, like the softer Sex,
Deign'd to insinuate, with soft words and airs,
She had, occasionally, sold such wares.
239
Thus, having wander'd thro' each winding curve
Of squeamish qualms, and feminine reserve,
And fully frustrated each prudish plea,
The immoral mart was, now, unfeign'dly free.
Of squeamish qualms, and feminine reserve,
And fully frustrated each prudish plea,
The immoral mart was, now, unfeign'dly free.
Audacious traffic! dark and dangerous Trade,
So near the spot where penal rules are made,
By Pow'rs combin'd of Commons—Lords—and Kings,
Prohibiting such untax'd, thriftless, Things;
All Subjects to coerce, low Rogues restrain
And give great Villains, only, hopes of Gain!
So near the spot where penal rules are made,
By Pow'rs combin'd of Commons—Lords—and Kings,
Prohibiting such untax'd, thriftless, Things;
All Subjects to coerce, low Rogues restrain
And give great Villains, only, hopes of Gain!
Tho' thus obnoxious, Crispin was engag'd,
And witless War, 'gainst Law and Gospel wag'd,
But, much embarrass'd, loads, illicit, bore,
By monarch-Magistrate's deep-guarded door—
Full well aware he'd poor excuse to plead,
In mitigation of the shameless deed;
While frail Employer's wealth might well afford,
With costlier legal cates to crown her board—
And tho' his Will complied, in evil hour,
To gratify such Avarice, Pride, and Pow'r;
Yet, he, like all Offenders, felt, within,
Conviction, sore, the constant curse of Sin!
He fear'd a full refusal might offend
A fellow-Mortal! much-professing Friend!
Tho', while he occupied a different post,
His Spirit had defied an armed host!
And witless War, 'gainst Law and Gospel wag'd,
But, much embarrass'd, loads, illicit, bore,
By monarch-Magistrate's deep-guarded door—
Full well aware he'd poor excuse to plead,
In mitigation of the shameless deed;
While frail Employer's wealth might well afford,
With costlier legal cates to crown her board—
And tho' his Will complied, in evil hour,
To gratify such Avarice, Pride, and Pow'r;
Yet, he, like all Offenders, felt, within,
Conviction, sore, the constant curse of Sin!
He fear'd a full refusal might offend
A fellow-Mortal! much-professing Friend!
Tho', while he occupied a different post,
His Spirit had defied an armed host!
For several Seasons did this commerce last,
To chosen Friends affording cheap repast—
Still to the prompt Provider doubly sweet,
It sav'd some coin yet gave accustom'd treat.
But Crispin's breast, thro' all this tedious time,
Felt burden'd, sore, with consciousness of crime,
Till, knowing how his anxious heart was pain'd,
The deprecated practice Heav'n restrain'd—
In course of this accurs'd, illegal, Scheme,
Against all rule, both civil and supreme,
At length, unmeet for fashionable Dame,
A base, abominable, cargo, came;
A musty, filthy, mass—and far unfit
To offer Friends of Wealth, or Taste and Wit—
Ev'n far inferior to some paltry trash
Fair Traders cast away, with loss of cash.
To chosen Friends affording cheap repast—
Still to the prompt Provider doubly sweet,
It sav'd some coin yet gave accustom'd treat.
But Crispin's breast, thro' all this tedious time,
Felt burden'd, sore, with consciousness of crime,
Till, knowing how his anxious heart was pain'd,
The deprecated practice Heav'n restrain'd—
In course of this accurs'd, illegal, Scheme,
Against all rule, both civil and supreme,
At length, unmeet for fashionable Dame,
A base, abominable, cargo, came;
A musty, filthy, mass—and far unfit
To offer Friends of Wealth, or Taste and Wit—
Ev'n far inferior to some paltry trash
Fair Traders cast away, with loss of cash.
Here was a dire dilemma! how could cost
Be now secur'd, and not the value lost?
Long lay the coarse commodity unus'd—
The knavish Vendor much, meantime, abus'd—
While Crispin oft was urg'd, with taunt austere,
By fair exchange his character to clear;
And Reason said, while he receiv'd his pay,
His Will was bound, and Duty bid obey—
But Conscience pleaded, paramount command,
The Laws of Heav'n, and of his native Land.
Be now secur'd, and not the value lost?
Long lay the coarse commodity unus'd—
The knavish Vendor much, meantime, abus'd—
While Crispin oft was urg'd, with taunt austere,
By fair exchange his character to clear;
And Reason said, while he receiv'd his pay,
His Will was bound, and Duty bid obey—
But Conscience pleaded, paramount command,
The Laws of Heav'n, and of his native Land.
This was a thought that sway'd his pensive Soul,
Beyond a mortal Mistress's controul!
Resolv'd no more strict Justice to degrade
By thus engaging in this graceless Trade;
But all commands, with fortitude, refuse,
Which robb'd Society of social dues;
And firmly now defy a Despot's nod,
Who bade him thus wage war with Man—and God!
Beyond a mortal Mistress's controul!
Resolv'd no more strict Justice to degrade
By thus engaging in this graceless Trade;
But all commands, with fortitude, refuse,
Which robb'd Society of social dues;
And firmly now defy a Despot's nod,
Who bade him thus wage war with Man—and God!
Among Delinquents; who, thus, lawless, deal,
So inconsistent with the common Weal!
The callous Conscience ne'er is over-nice
About the rules of Virtue, or of Vice—
For Earth's or Heaven's Codes but little care,
While they can safely purchase cheaper Ware;
Careful, alone, with all their wicked wiles,
To shun the punishment, and share the spoils—
Grasping at all their greediness can get,
For all is favourite fish that comes to net.
But how can Christians e'er prefer a claim
To gospel-grace, or own that noblest Name!
How hold a close communion, when alone,
With One to whom all frauds are fully known!
Whose piercing Eye the deepest plot can scan,
Which Cunning may conceal from moral Man?
How can they look tow'rds Heav'n's lov'd Mercy seat,
Or hope for pardon, tho' their pray'rs, intreat,
While their iniquitous clasp'd palms contain
Such unjust savings?—such ill-gotten gain?
Much less a blessing from Heaven's righteous Lord
Whose rank dishonesty deserves a Cord!
So inconsistent with the common Weal!
The callous Conscience ne'er is over-nice
About the rules of Virtue, or of Vice—
For Earth's or Heaven's Codes but little care,
While they can safely purchase cheaper Ware;
Careful, alone, with all their wicked wiles,
To shun the punishment, and share the spoils—
Grasping at all their greediness can get,
For all is favourite fish that comes to net.
But how can Christians e'er prefer a claim
To gospel-grace, or own that noblest Name!
How hold a close communion, when alone,
With One to whom all frauds are fully known!
Whose piercing Eye the deepest plot can scan,
Which Cunning may conceal from moral Man?
How can they look tow'rds Heav'n's lov'd Mercy seat,
Or hope for pardon, tho' their pray'rs, intreat,
While their iniquitous clasp'd palms contain
Such unjust savings?—such ill-gotten gain?
Much less a blessing from Heaven's righteous Lord
Whose rank dishonesty deserves a Cord!
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CHAPTER 12th.
The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse | |