The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse :: :: University of Virginia Library

What mad infatuation warps the Mind
Of Riches, and of Rank, among Mankind!
Which, with oppressive malice madly deem
That purest Spirits merit least esteem!
That all the carnal World's corrupted Crowd,
Prefer the foolish, profligate, and proud!
Despise the Souls that spurn all graceless Gain;
Chastise each act unchaste, or speech profane;
Who Christ, and all His Children truly love
And look alone for wealth, and bliss, above!
What Frantics! thus, to give their God offence,
And counteract all rules of Common-Sense;

Through ev'ry change to make such silly choice,
Against Self-Interests—Reason's—Virtue's—voice!

Who but the foolish World's most arrant Fools,
The Foes of Truth! false Custom's thoughtless Tools!
Midst masses, vast, of corruptible Meat,
Could hope to keep such matter sound, and sweet,
For festal Treats, at some far distant Day,
By putting all preserving Salts away!
Yet such is Wealth's, and Wit's, preposterous Plan,
In scouting what secures the mass of Man—
With scorn discarding each celestial Soul,
Whose antiseptic pow'rs preserve the Whole!

Will Characters, unchristian, left at large
As well all binding dues and debts discharge?
More strictly civil, social, ties attend,
Of lasting Lover? or most faithful Friend?
The moral duties of domestic Life,
Of Master? Servant? Father? Husband? Wife?
Submit more simply, with obedience, mild,
As earthly, and as heavenly, Parent's Child?
Than the religious principles of such,
Who think they scarce can love Mankind too much,
Except they set the frail and sinful Race,
In Self-existent's—full-Perfection's—place.
They, who, with all imparted Strength, oppose
Their Pride, their fleshly Lusts, and hellish Foes;
Endeavouring, daily, with their utmost Might
To act each part that Conscience construes right.

Will e'er unbridled and unbroken Steed,
In pastures rich, or poor, more peaceful feed
Than the hack'd Horse, when tether'd to a spot
Whether the herbage, near, be sweet, or not?
Will he be less inclin'd to break his bound,
To taste forbidden pastures, tempting round,
Than the tame Drudge by long experience taught,
And hourly lessons, to look up for nought—
But bare indulgence of his watery draff,
And feeds of scanty verdure—straw—or chaff?

Would it be estimated wise in Men
To drag wild Creatures from their native den,
And thus, with all their savage habits, house,
Amongst goods, chattels, children, and dear Spouse?
Let loose, to range at large, in every home,
To fetch and carry, and to guard the Dome,
Instead of Dog's domesticated Breed,
The friends of Man, by Providence decreed;
Which, ne'er pure watchfulness nor labour, spare
To keep the Things committed to their care—
Might not sound Sense imagine those, let loose,
Would break their bounds and practise wild abuse;
At last, sore issue of each sad event!
Make rash Employers wretchedly repent?
Meantime 'twould much amuse each wicked Wit,
To see their Keepers daily scratch'd and bit.

Doth not the Master, or the Mistress, know,
Who keeps wild Beasts for profit, or for show,
Their untam'd Nature nothing can restrain,
But constant discipline, and binding chain?
And would not Wisdom their fond folly chide,
Who this neglected, or laid those aside?
The docile Monkey, the Baboon, and Ape,
Tho' they approach, most perfect, human shape,
Are yet so mischievous, and full of lust,
No prudent Person would such Creatures trust,
But all such Brutes in proper boundaries fix,
To show their grave grimace, and antick tricks.

Had Naaman, the leper, ever found,
By searching irreligious Syria round,
One little Maid of ought but Israel's race,
Whose heart would feel for his affecting case;
And wish him, in the Name of God, to go
Where Heav'n's true Prophet would relieve his woe?

Could Potiphar, possest of common Sense,
In pagan Slaves repose more confidence,
For conscientious probity, and truth,
Than in the upright, pious, Hebrew Youth?
Could he deposit ample stores, untold,
Of costly garments—jewels—grain—or gold;
Or leave his lovely Consort more secure,
With wishes warm, and principles impure,
Among idolatrous and beastly bands,
Than in an Israelite's religious hands?
With stupid worshippers of wood and stone
Than one to whom the living God was known?

If personal approbation, or disgrace,
Give Servant favour, or expel from place—
If recompence, or punishment, in time,
Compel all duty, and restrain all crime
Or Fear be Nature's most impulsive Law,
Then every heart some seeing eye must awe—
Some sanction'd precepts, some resistless pow'r,
Enforce the danger, and insure the dow'r.

Can then an absent eye, or hand, controul
The inward workings of a sinful Soul?
Impress the selfish heart with sacred fear
Unconscious an inspecting Spirit's near?

What will the covetous affections tie
When Minds imagine no Observer's by?
What can the sordid Inclination sway
When Souls conceive all eyes are far away?
What mightier motive e'er subdue Desire,
Depress fond Pride, or put out Passion's fire;
Stifle each foolish wish, and greedy gust
Of grovelling Vanity and graceless Lust?
What shall withhold the Appetites, and Hands,
From dread infringements of divine commands,
Where pure Morality was ne'er imprest,
Nor blest Religion rules the humbled breast—
Where Conscience ne'er inflicts, or fears, the rod,
Of an all-powerful—ever-present—God!
Ne'er warns the Spirit Justice will repay
All frauds, and falshoods, at a future day!
That every wish which stirs, in close retreat,
Must stand its trial at His Judgment-seat;
Except the Soul, well-taught, in time, restrain,
Ideas vicious—volatile, and vain;
Each vagrant motive, and each gross regard,
And hope a final—full—and rich reward!

The crafty cunning of the human heart,
By reason and reflection taught false Art,
May shape its projects, so reform each plan,
As oft may trick Eyes—Ears—and Minds, of Man;
Till such fall'n Spirit, gracelessly, forget,
That God will, after death, demand each debt—
Still in uneducated, natural, State,
Regardless of its end, and future Fate!
The christian Soul conceives far different view—
Heav'n-taught in all that's righteous, just, and true!
Beholding Deity omniscient, still,
He labours, hourly, to perform His will—
Still marks Him present with his mental eyes,
And slays each Lust, as Faith's free sacrifice;
Not only bridling Body's outward Acts,
Which oft break primitive, baptismal pacts,
But every thriftless embryo thought, betimes,
Before it quickens into actual crimes;
Checking its growth, before it fully reach
The ripeness of resolve, or shape of speech.

Which of the twain, in this enlightened Age,
For servile Office, would Self-love engage?
Which Worldly-wisdom raise, o'er household hosts,
To occupy its most important posts?
Would Avarice, to its obvious interests blind,
Adopt the careless, and most dangerous kind?
And, acting quite contrarient with itself,
Put, in such hands, its Person, Pow'r, or Pelf?
Yea! stronger motives, fonder interests, force,
May sometimes influence carnal Wisdom's course,
May let some lov'd advantages be lost
Sooner than find more fond endeavours cross'd.

When keen contentions war within the heart,
And different Passions take a different part,
Reason retires from such infuriate rout,
And lets the stronger force the feebler out—
Thus when such Wisdom with Self-love contends,
And those fond Cronies keep no longer Friends—
When Vanity with virtuous Fame contests
The empire of such bold ambitious breasts;
Or Ostentation draws the sword on Sloth,
Reason must use her Sense to silence both—
Her regal office, rightly to fulfil,
Must sway, persuasively, the wavering Will,
That every Passion to her Pow'r may bend,
And Selfishness attain its favourite end.

No crook'd, contracted, objects can comply
With others, tall, and straight, when standing by;
Nor can one dirty creature e'er endure
To come in contact with a thing that's pure.
How can grim Ugliness e'er hope to hide
Its foul deformities by Beauty's side?
Impiety and Vice appear, in sight,
Near Virtue's, and Religion's, blaze of Light?
So Fashion's impious, proud, Employers, fear
To foster saintly, humble, Servants, near;
As Serpent's ne'er affect the harmless Dove,
Nor Dogs—Wolves—Foxes—Sheep, or Lambkins, love;
Unless to lure, or hunt them, as their prey,
Or fright them, with fell terrors, far away;
That their sweet innocence may ne'er be seen,
Contrasted with such savage lust and Spleen.

	CHAPTER 13th. The Life and Poetical Works of James Woodhouse