By him the violated law speaks out
Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet
As angels use, the gospel whispers peace.
He stablishes the strong, restores the weak, Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart,
And, arm'd himself in panoply complete Of heav'nly temper, furnishes with arms, Bright as his own, and trains, by ev'ry rule Of holy difcipline, to glorious war,
The facramental host of God's elect!
Are all fuch teachers?-would to heav'n all were! But hark the doctor's voice!-fast wedg'd between Two empirics he stands, and with fwoln cheeks Inspires the news, his trumpet. Keener far Than all invective is his bold harangue, While through that public organ of report He hails the clergy; and, defying shame, Announces to the world his own and their's! He teaches those to read, whom schools dismiss'd, And colleges, untaught; fells accent, tone,
And emphasis in score, and gives to pray'r
Th' adagio and andante it demands.
He grinds divinity of other days
Down into modern use; transforms old print
To zig-zag manufcript, and cheats the eyes Of gall'ry critics by a thousand arts.
Are there who purchase of the doctor's ware? Oh, name it not in Gath!-it cannot be,
That grave and learned clerks should need fuch aid. He doubtless is in sport, and does but droll, Assuming thus a rank unknown before- Grand caterer and dry-nurse of the church!
I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life, Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honeft in the facred caufe. To fuch I render more than mere respect, Whose actions say that they respect themselves. But, loose in morals, and in manners vain,
In conversation frivolous, in dress
Extreme, at once rapacious and profuse;
Frequent in park with lady at his fide, Ambling and prattling scandal as he goes; But rare at home, and never at his books, Or with his pen, save when he scrawls a card; Constant at routs, familiar with a round Of ladyships-a stranger to the poor; Ambitious of preferment for its gold, And well prepar'd, by ignorance and floth, By infidelity and love of world,
To make God's work a finecure; a flave To his own pleasures and his patron's pride:- From fuch apoftles, oh, ye mitred heads, Preserve the church! and lay not careless hands On fculls that cannot teach, and will not learn.
Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul,
Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and owp
Paul should himself direct me.
His master-ftrokes, and draw from his design. I would express him fimple, grave, fincere; In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, And plain in manner; decent, folemn, chaste, And natural in gesture; much impress'd Himself, as confcious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men. Behold the picture! - Is it like?-Like whom? The things that mount the roftrum with a skip, And then skip down again; pronounce a text; Cry-hem; and, reading what they never wrote, Just fifteen minutes, huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene!
In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that minifters And ferves the altar, in my foul I loath
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disguft.
What! will a man play tricks, will he indulge A filly fond conceit of his fair form,
And just proportion, fashionable mien, And pretty face, in prefence of his God? Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes, As with the di'mond on his lily hand, And play his brilliant parts before my eyes, When I am hungry for the bread of life? He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames His noble office, and, instead of truth, Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock! Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare, And start theatric, practifed at the glass! I seek divine simplicity in him
Who handles things divine; and all besides,
Though learn'd with labour, and though much admir'd
By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform'd,
To me is odious as the nasal twang
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