But, O merciful God, I befeech thee, that thou wilt not confider nor weigh what is due to our defervings, but, rather what becometh thy mercy. Have mercy upon us, O God, after thy great goodness, according to the multitude of thy tender mercies vouchfafe to deliver us, for the fake of thy dear Son our Redeemer, Jefus Christ.

"But, O Lord, what can we plead to avert thy judgments, who are as far from penitence as innocence? Or how can we pray against that vengeance, which we make it our business to pull down.

"Bleffed Lord, there is but one mercy we are capable of; and that is the melting of our hearts: and if that cannot be done but by severe inflictions, I beseech thee to dispense to us what thou seest most apt to reduce us. If a greater degree of outward milery will tend to the curing of our inward evil; Lord fpare not thy rod, but ftrike it yet more fharply-awaken us, though it be with thunder; and let us rather feel thy terrors, than not feel our fins. But yet, Lord, if thy gentler methods may have any effect, be pleased to continue thy long fuffering towards us; and though we have no pretence to mercy, yet do thou affert thine own work; be merciful, because thou hast been so.

"Suffer us not to deftroy what thou haft fo gracioufly preferved: but rather by thy fharper or by thy gentler methods, bring us home to thyfelf.

Lord, thou haft in all ages ftrangely condefcended to the interceffions of thy fervants-Bow the Heavens again, and come down and hear the prayers of those who defire to fear thy Name: and let them not only deliver their own fouls, but obtain mercy alfo for this perverfe generation; even fuch a mighty grace as may yet reduce us. Thou who didft at firft call a foul of darkness into thy marvellous light, recall us, we beseech thee, from that worse darkness wherein we have involved, ourselves. Put thy laws into our hearts, and write them in our minds; and after fo many years of being called Chriftians, let us be fo indeed. Revive that primitive zeal and fanctity which may purify, as to thyfelf, a peculiar people, zealous of good works. And, oh! thou bleffed Mediator, who prayed for thy firft crucifiers, intercede alfo for us, who have crucified thee afrefh; and though we have nothing to fay for ourselves, yet let thy wounds and death, thy crofs and paflion, plead for us, and obtain whatever our wretched ftate is in need of. O Lord, hear; O Lord, forgive, confider and do it, if not for ours, yet for thy name's fake. Thou art Jefus, a Saviour: Oh fave thy people from their fins. Grant us true repentance unto life, not to be repented of. Turn us from all our evil ways, that iniquity may not be our ruin. Deny us not a broken heart and contrite; and grant we may bring forth fruits of repentance in a fincere and speedy amendment of our lives. Then, Oh Lord, we fhall fee thy hand is not fo fhortened that it cannot fave; when thou haft delivered us from our fins, thou wilt deliver us from troubles. Shew as thy mercy, and that foon, and grant us thy falvation; that we being delivered both in body and foul, may ferve thee with both in a chearful obedience, and praife the name of our God, who hath dealt so wonderfully with us.— Amen."

I hope, Gentlemen, the prayer I have transcribed will meet with your approbation, and be confidered proper for general circulation. You will no doubt think it proper to add a petition for our beloved Sovereign, and for wifdom to be given to his minifters at the prefent awful, eventful, crifis. March 6, 1801.

TO

SIR,

TH

TO THE EDITOR.

Sutton, near Ely. HE word Vates was originally applied to the Poet, as well as to the Prophet. Our admirable Spenfer feems to be entitled to the term in both its acceptations, and to have been infpired with a forefight of that levelling giant equality, which has made his appearance at the clofe of the 18th century; the Poet has entered his proteft against him in the Second Canto of the Fifth Book of his Fairy Queen, ftanza 29th, to the end; as from the affected obfoletenefs of his language, and the peculiar ftructure of his ftanza, Spenfer is not fo generally read as the fublimity of his poetry and the morality of his matter deferve; and as I wifh the opinion of fo excellent a judge on a fubject fo important to fociety fhould be diffused as wide as poffible, I have tent you the paffage alluded to in more familiar and modern diction and metre, which, though I am convinced it will fall very fhort of the original, yet may be more intelligible to the mass of readers. I am, Sir, your conftant reader and obedient fervant,

SERSPEN.

*They travel long, at length they view the coaft,
Where ftands affembled a prodigious hoft,
They haften on to know the caufe affign'd,
In what requeft fo many nations join'd.

Upon a rock, high rais'd above the flood,
With monftrous fcales a mighty giant ftood,
Who boafted with a vain and empty noise
That in one scale he all the world would poife.
If, for the other, he could matter find;

For want of which, with trifles light as wind,
And vanity, his balance. huge he filled,

Which pleas'd all fools, each woman and each child.
He boasted he'd take up the ocean's tide,
And from the folid earth the waves divide,
That, to one balance should the fire repair,
The other, without wind fhould hold the air,
Together then he'd balance heav'n and hell,
Each particle and all in each who dwell;
Nor would he mifs a feather of their weight,
And what remain'd of furplus would tranflate
Into its proper fcale, for all, he said,
Unequal, now each other's right invade.
View the rough fea the mould'ring earth impair,
And fire encroach upon the paffive air;
The elements had all got out of place,

And nations now this rule of wrong embrace,
All which he'd bring to their juft fhape and fize,
And all things in the world would equalize.

The multitudes around large circles made
And liften'd to his vain rhodomontade.

*Sir Arthegall and Talus his iron page.

(As

(As round an honey-pot, flies fimple throng,)
They think 'tis he that muft redress each wrong,
And give them freedom uncontroll'd. The Knight
Who faw that he deceiv'd the people's fight,
Accofts him without fear; "Ó, you who dare
To weigh the world, proportioning each share,
You fhew an arrogance that's much to blame,
And, at what's far beyond your reach you aim,
You, who the limits of each part would scan,
Should know the poife of each when each began;
'Tis by that standard you can only know
Where things have fail'd, and where they overflow.
All things came forth, in goodly measure plann'd,
At their creation, from their Maker's hand,
And all were weigh'd in fuch an equal scale,
That not a drachm were wanting to the tale.
Fix'd in the centre was this earthly ball,
While feas furround it as a liquid wall,
These are confin'd by air, no drop can waste,
And all is by the ambient Heav'n embrac❜d,
Which keeps them in their course with juftice true,
All know their bounds, their courses all pursue,
All these for centuries have thus remain'd,
Nor any changes have their order stain'd.
Were they now weigh'd in your new-fangl'd fcale,
Say can you prove fuch. order would not fail;
Peril attends on change, unfound in chance,
No longer then fuch dang'rous fchemes advance;
Nor change a fyftem prov'd fo good, for worse,
Uncertain if they'd still retain their course."

"You foolish elfe, how weak you state the point !"
The Giant fays, "All things are out of joint,
All order's loft; can'ft fee without reproach
Beneath thy feet the fea on land encroach;
See how the earth accumulates each day,
From heaps of dead which in its womb they lay;
Sure it were fit fuch wrong fhould be redress'd,
Curtail th' exub'rant, add unto the least.
Wherefore these lofty mountains down I'll throw,
And make thein level with the plain below;
These rocks, which now their arduous stations keep,
I'll plunge into the bottom of the deep,
There let them find their level, as at first;
Defpots I'll next fupprefs, and tyrants curft,
The mafs of men no more fhall lordlings fway,
The rich man's wealth I'll to the poor convey."

"Since," fays Sir Arthegall," of what you fie
So fraught with error is your
vain decree,
How can your vanity a rule apply
To what's invisible to mortal eye?
The feas affault the earth with frequent charge,
Yet do they not their boundaries enlarge,

APPENDIX, VOL, VIII,

Nor

Nor is the earth diminish'd, all the mould,
Which by rude waves has from its base been roll'd,
Is by the tide to other parts convey'd,

And may be found, if fought, not loft, though ftray'd.

Nor does the earth receive increase from thole
Who link in death, and in her womb repofe,
Form'd of the dust, to dust shall all unite,
However green the blade, the bloffom bright,
Then when man dies, fay is it not most just
He turn again to his primæval dut?
All creatures lie in their Creator's hands,
All must submit to what his will commands;
At his command all into being spring,
All ceafe to be, as wills th' Almighty King,
None afk why fuch things are. The lowly dale
Repines not that the hills the fkies affail,
Nor do the hills the lowly dales disdain.

With pow'r, from God deriv'd, Kings hold their reign,
He makes their fubjects faithful to the Crown;
Some he exalts, and fome he tumbles down ;
To fome he gives, from others takes away,
All, all is his, all own his potent fway;
He does whate'er is done, his fovereign will
None may withsland, all must his law fulfil ;
What he has bound, What creature can unbind?
Whence then this empty arrogance of mind?
To call him to account, his works weigh o'er,
Whole counsel far above thy knowlege foar?
Since, of the objects obvious to thy fight,
Vain man, thy judgement cannot deem aright.
Say, canft thou in thy idle balance find
A way, with truth, to poife the palling wind,
Or weigh the light that illues from the Eaft,
Or the thought pailing from the human breast-?
Is this too much? Then let thine art effay
A fingle word from human lips to weigh;
If to fuch trivial arts you've no pretence,
How can you fcan the ways of Providence?
How can he matters of importance rule,
Who, in the smallest, stands confest a fool?"

The Giant, half abash'd, in folly caught,
Reply'd, of little things he little thought;
But he engag'd, the leaft word could be laid
Within his balance fhould be justly weigh'd.

Then thus the Knight-" In thy nice-judging fcale,
Doth right or wrong, or falfe or true, prevail?
He faid th' experiment he'd inftant try,
But the wing'd words from out his balance fly.
Enrag'd he fwore the texture was too thin,
Nor could he words confine his scales within;
That he could weigh fubftantial right and wrong,
He faid he could bring proof both clear and ftrong.

* Well

"Well then," faid Arthegall," to proof proceed, First, in one balance let the true be laid."

Agreed: but when the falfe he would have try'd,
From th' other scale the falfe would ever slide,
No force could its elaftic pow'r fubdue,
For never will the falle be weigh'd with true.
"Now take the right," fays Arthegall," and fee
With fo much wrong if your fam'd icales agree?"
In goes the right, and now the Giant long
Attempts to load the other scale with wrong;
But all his art and ftrength could not avail,
With wrong heap'd thick on wrong, to turn the scale:
He fweats and labours with his utmost might,
A ton of wrong can't poife one ounce of right.

And now, incens'd, his balance he'd have spoil'd,
But him the Knight accofts with accent mild,
"Not to your fcales," faid he," the crime belongs,
They can't difcriminate 'twixt rights and wrongs,
A juft criterion do you wish to find?
Their weight must be adjusted by the mind;
And would you have the truth of words appear,
Or know their fallehood, weigh them in the ear;
Set truth and right a moment out of fight,
For they with wrong and falíehood ne'er unite;
And put two wrongs or falles in each scale,
Of thofe the weight your balance fhall detail,
For truth is uncompounded, fimple, one,
And right's derived from itself alone."

Then wrongs and falfes in each fcale he throws,
The balance foon the alproportion fhews;
But quickly right afcended to her throne,
The middle of the beam, and fate alone.
But right from thence he labour'd to difplace,
For never in his eyes did right find grace.
Extremities 'twas his delight to weigh,
To this to add, from that to take away,
For never was his wicked balance feen
Pois'd with the equitable golden mean.

When Talus faw him thus, with skill profane
Spread error wide, his bulk into the main
He thoves; receiv'd into the dep profound
The giant ftruggies, finks, at length is drown'd.
As when a fhip, with batter'd fides, has ftruck,
By cruel tempeft driv'n, againft a rock,
Into a thousand pieces the divides,
Misfortune's prey, the iport of wind and tides.
So, from the clift is this huge giant thrown,
Bruis'd is his carca, broken ev'ry bone,
His batter'd balance is in pieces tent;
So falls the proud, to headlong ruin fent.