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Churchill Diffected. A Poem. 4to. 1 s. 6d. Nicoll.

OULD we have imagined that Churchill should diffect Churchill, we fhould have concluded, that he had here taken the incifion knife in his own hand.-The operation is perfectly in his own ftyle of execution, heavy and violent; and the difplay of the interior parts, indicates a thorough acquaintance with the fubje&:

His perfon-all will know him by the print
Hogarth has giv'n, with fuch arch meaning in't.
His drunken attitude, his leering eyes,

His bear skin, and his ftaff ftuck round with lies:
He travels with a Trull he calls his wife,

By him feduc'd to infamy for life:

His Mufe bred up at Billingfgate, his Muse
A vixen Jade, inftructed to abufe;

A vixen Jade, (but not to do her wrong)
With wit, fkill, fpirit, all the pow'rs of fong:
With Strumpet air, dreft in a negligée,
A Prostitute each hour, for a fee.

A Prieft-as void of decency as grace,

No hypocritic varnish on his face:

In band and gown to brothels he repairs,

There fins with Sinners, with the Swearer fwears,
With Scoffers fcoffs, and fat in Scorner's chair,
Defies Damnation with determin'd air:

This Heroe in impiety, behold

In health, this Dare-devil fo brave and bold;
With the leaft illness he dejected lies,
And all Hell flames before his coward eyes.

Human-without one feeling for his kind,
Without one feed of goodness in his mind,
No not a little one, the smallest grain,
But all is vice, and vice of darkest stain.
Intent on all he hates, to pour his rage,
Refpecting neither merit, rank, nor age,
His characters to his own manners fuits,
A bear, exhibiting a fhew of brutes.
But devious ftill from Satire's moral plan,

He makes a monfter, whom God made a man.
And while by flanders foul he courts applaufe,
Appears the very Villain that he draws.

Thus proceeds the diffection:

The Surgeon now with fharp and fhining blade,
Has o'er the trunk a crofs incifion made;
This fignature perhaps, fo deeply giv❜n,

May prove his paffport at the gates of heav'n;

The

The crofs baptifmal long by fin effac'd,.
And all its gholtly workings quite difgrac'd,:
This point to priestly Cafuifts I refign,

It is their province, and 'tis far from mine.
They find the ftomach fraught with acids keen,
And of a moft enormous fize his fpleen;
The liver full of gall, and overflowing;
To this his sharp fatiric vein is owing.
Why is man doom'd to never-ending woe,
For faults, which all from conftitution flow!
His guts they next unravel, fold by fold,
And find the Cœcum cramm'd with minted gold;
(The Doctor eyes the minted gold with glee,
And claims it as his perquifite, or fee)

But cannot, tho' they fearch with double care,
Discover the leaft inch of Rectum there.

Staunch as he feem'd, not found in either Kidney,
Unlike the refolute, undaunted SIDNEY,
Who felt the ftroke of Pow'r, his works tho' lefs
Seditious, nor committed to the Prefs.
Can then fuch vile Incendiaries complain,
Beneath the lenity of GEORGE's reign?

His Lungs, the bellows once of civil ftrife
Themfelves inflam'd. His Heart, main fpring of life,
Hard to callofity, tho' fwoln with pride,
Now both its Ventricles are open'd wide,
Both Ventricles fit kennels for a pack

Of hateful Hell-hounds, horrid all, and black:
Hark! Nero leads the van. in fcent of blood,
The reft pour thundering like a mighty flood;
Mad Zoilus foaming, by fharp Envy ftung,
While bafe Therfites fpends his fnarling tongue;
Tarquin, curs'd cause of many a female tear,
And coward Drances babbling in the rear.
Thick intermix'd with these, join in the chace.
The common-hunt, of the same hellish race,
Known by more modern names, which to rehearse
Would foul my page, and vilify my verse.
Their fpeed unequal, their purfuit the fame,
Freedom they cry, but Royalty their game.

His Front well cas'd with brafs they firip with pain,
Open his fkull, and find no want of brain.
The Dura Mater, all in proper place,

But can't a fcrap of Pia Mater trace.

They fearch each cell, and many find replete
With fancy, humour, fpirit, fenfe, and wit;
Of artful method, ftock indeed but fmall,
And of Decorum, truly none at all.

Sic patet fanua Ditis!

T 3

L.

Sermons

Sermons on the following Subjects: 1. All the Works of God, in
their natural State, beautiful and lovely, &c. By the late Rev.
James Duchal, D. D. Vols. IId and IIId. 8vo. 10s.
W. Johnston.

AVING, more than once, had occafion to deliver our fentiments concerning Dr. Duchal as a Writer, we shall, without any farther introduction, proceed to lay before our Readers an account of what is contained in the volumes now before us.

Prefixed to the fecond volume, we have an Effay on the character of the Author, in an anonymous Letter to a Friend. The Letter-writer obferves, that in fo private a walk of life, and fo little diverfified, as that of Dr. Duchal, it is not to be expected, that incidents worth recording fhould have occurred. Adventures rarely mark the lives of wife and good men, he fays; they hold on the noiseless tenour of their way; and as feldom is true modefty the hero of its own tale. As to circumstances little entertaining, he tells us, he has neither lights nor curiofity to enquire.

Inftead, therefore, of a particular account of the Doctor's birth, parentage, education, &c. the Reader will find in this Letter, what is much more inftructive and interefting, viz. his peculiar features, the diftinguishing parts of his character clearly marked by one, who fays, he had access to know him intimately. He fets out with fome general reflections, which, in our opinion, are pertinent and judicious.

It were to be wifhed, fays he, that a fair hearing could be procured for obfcure and humble worth; where more is meant than commonly meets the ear and eye; but it is no easy matter to bring out to light the hidden graces of the heart; even the lines of a fine and delicate face are not cafily hit off. Simplicity of manners, difciplin'd paffions, moving in a fort of still life, and in a narrow fphere, are not glaring enough to attract the popular eye. As few have the powers to exprefs, perhaps, not many have tafte to difcern the mild and retired beauties. Yet the humble virtucs are moft truly fuch; they are most seful in common life; all are called to the practice of them; and they are most imitable. Few are born to figure on the public stage; and it is often feen that rude undifciplin'd abilities, and paffions, moft strongly rouze attention; for nature's fhoots are most luxuriant. Such characters are generally ftruck off at a heat, from the collifion of strong powers, and fortunate conjunctures. Ard, at beft, mere elevation of place, boldness of fpirit, and force of genius, produce themselves into light, rather as objects of un

difcerning

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difcerning applaufe, than of imitation. Indeed, characters of this caft often produce a very bad effect: the moral eye is dazzled by the falfe luftre of fpecious qualities; not to fay, by flagrant enormities, dreffed out in the fpoils of virtue; thus debauching the sense of right, and proftituting the rewards of true worth, to the fervice of vice-Decipit exemplar vitiis imitabile: and thus, modeft retired virtue, in the vale of life is ftill more obfcured, by the splendour of folly in high place. Such virtue may, indeed, refemble the dawning light, which fhines more and more to the fullness of day; but from those whose senses are not exercifed to difcern, it will attract little regard; fhedding only a mild and gentle ray, amidst the fhades of obfcurity. fhewy, the fuperficial, the glaring, have always, and ftill will draw the many to wonder. In truth, many are the mishapen and mischievous beafts the world has wondered after; while. the plain, the folid, the natural, lye little noticed. For these Fame feldom founds her trumpet: however, fhe is too puiffant a perfonage to be arrested in her courfe by us: common fame founds, and common fenfe is filent: and, in the present state of things, there may poffibly be more reasons for this than our philofophy wots of.

The

Now, my friend, in fo hopeless a cafe, were it not the wifer way, to let every man's own works praise him? If, for inftance, his friends produce him as a Writer; why, let the impartial public reward him, according to fuch his works. What need of fufpected panegyric? and not unjustly fufpected in modern practice; for what happens? An admired friend is no more; when, inftantly, fond affection fnatches up the pencil,' and all is one blaze of light, with fcarce a fhade, or variety of lines, to give diftinction. But furely, thus to mix up almost all the virtues, and in the higheft degree, with fcarce one trace of defect, or human infirmity, is neither to draw, nor colour after the life. This is not to give the portrait of a man, but the Poet's perfect monster, which the world ne'er faw;-or, on the contrary, if malevolence conduct the work, the Roman Satirift's still more enormous monfter, redeemed from vice by no one virtue. Credulity itfelf will revolt at fuch outrage against all truth of character; as beyond the powers of humanity, either to exemplify or to imitate. Doubt will either queftion the exiftence of the perfect pattern, or, locking up to fuch fublime heighths of virtue, will ftrain the powers; and defpair of attainment, will extinguifh all ardour of imitation. There appears to be a natural tone of the powers, beyond which the purfuit of virtue itself may incur the imputation of folly. For truth's fake then, and for example's fake, it were better not to fet the mark to be aimed at too far out of reach, It seems fafer for T 4 each

each perfon, without violent efforts, to hold on the even tenour of his own way; in the Poet's manner, addreffing his fellowcandidates-Quod fi ceffas, aut ftrenuus anteis, nec tardum operior, nec præcedentibus infto.

But it, may be faid, what fhould difcourage, or rather not provoke emulation, in a life of easy, modeft, unaffected goodness; and acting in an humble private ftation? Should not parity of circumftances, and apparently equal advantages, with those who, by a patient continuance in well-doing, have already finished their course, naturally ftimulate others, to ftrain every nerve in the race of virtue? more especially, as the fame immortal wreath of glory fhall crown equal ardour and perfeverance, though with unequal powers. Be it fo: ftill here is the difficulty, like our late friend, to hold on this fame unremitting tenour of virtue, ftedfaft to the end-unfeduced, like him, by the allurements of fight and fenfe; by temptations from within, and from without; by the current of fashion and example; unfwayed by popular. opinion, and the falfe maxims of the many; unterrified too, to encounter difficulties, dangers, pains, loffes, and even oblo-. quy and reproach, in fupport of the cause of truth and goodnefs-unfeen, unapplauded, unreluctant, to fubmit to fevere trials of virtue, of felf-difcipline, and felf-denial, for the teftimony of a good confcience, and the approbation of the fupreme Judge of merit! No doubt, an approving heart, and the atteftation of him who is greater than the heart, is the nobleft reward of virtue, far beyond the acclaim of men and angels: but, is it eafy thus not to confult with flesh and blood; with unwearied patience to continue ftedfast and immoveable; to live not by fight, but by faith? Is not this true heroifm, in whatever condition of life? Does it not approach to the fummit of Chriftian perfection? It furely fuppofes the fulleft conviction of all the leading principles of religion; the warmeft attachment of heart to them; and an invincible firmness of spirit. Such is the hidden man of the heart; fuch is modeft retired worth! Befides fuch worth is often affociated with a state of life, with circunftances, which deprefs and obfcure it; it naturally courts retirement; carelefs, perhaps impatient of applaufe. Why then obtrude it on the public eye; or draw it into the common haunts of men?-of men, either loft in a whirl of vanity, or engroffed by the more fpecious pursuits of life?

Such, however, it must yet be owned, is the force of ge nuine goodness, that, where there is any fenfibility remaining, any thing unifon to it, in the mind of the obferver, it will command refpect. Even the retainers to vice, if not quite loft to the ingenuous fentiments of nature, do homage to it. Let but

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