ARGUMENT of the THIRD BOOK.
Self-recollection and reproofAddrefs to domeftic happiness.-Some account of myself.—The vanity of many of their pursuits who are reputed wife.— Juftification of my cenfures.-Divine illumination neceffary to the most expert philofopher.—The queftion, What is Truth? answered by other queftions.-Domeftic happiness addressed again.-Few
of the country.-My tame hare.-Occupations of a retired gentleman in his garden.—Pruning.Framing.-Greenhouse.—Sewing of flowerfeeds.-The country preferable to the town even in the winter.-Reasons why it is deferted at that feafon-Ruinous effects of gaming and of expenfive improvement-Book concludes with an apoftrophe to the metropolis.
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
His devious courfe uncertain, seeking home;
Or having long in miry ways been foil'd
And fore difcomfited, from flough to flough
Plunging, and half despairing of escape,
If chance at length he find a green-sward smooth
And faithful to the foot, his fpirits rise,
He chirrups brisk his ear-erecting steed,
And winds his way with pleasure and with ease ;
So I, defigning other themes, and call'd
T'adorn the Sofa with eulogium due,
To tell its flumbers and to paint its dreams,
Have rambled wide. In country, city, feat
Of Academic fame (howe'er deferv'd)
Long held, and scarcely difengag'd at last.
But now with pleasant pace, a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous, and refresh'd for future toil,
If toil await me, or if dangers new.
Since pulpits fail, and founding-boards reflect
Most part an empty ineffectual found,
What chance that I, to fame fo little known,
Nor converfant with men or manners much,
Should speak to purpose, or with better hope
Crack the fatiric thong? 'twere wiser far
For me, enamour'd of fequester'd fcenes,
And charm'd with rural beauty, to repose
Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or
My languid limbs when fummer fears the plains,
Or when rough winter rages, on the foft
And fhelter'd Sofa, while the nitrous air
Feeds a blue flame, and makes a chearful hearth;
'There, undisturb'd by folly, and appriz'd
How great the danger of disturbing her,
To mufe in filence, or at least confine
Remarks that gall fo many, to the few
My partners in retreat. Difguft conceal'd
Is oft-times proof of wifdom, when the fault
Is obftinate, and cure beyond our reach.
Domestic happiness, thou only blifs
Of Paradife that has furviv'd the fall!
Though few now tafte thee unimpair'd and pure,
Or tafting, long enjoy thee, too in firm
Or too incautious to preferve thy fweets
Unmixt with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper fheds into thy crystal cup
Thou art the nurse of virtue. In thine arms
She fmiles, appearing, as in truth fhe is,
Heav'n-born, and destined to the skies again.
Thou art not known where pleasure is ador'd,
That reeling goddefs with the zoneless waist
And wand'ring eyes, ftill leaning on the arm
Of novelty, her fickle frail fupport ;
For thou art meek and conftant, hating change,
And finding in the calm of truth-tried love
Joys that her ftormy raptures never yield.
Forfaking thee, what fhipwreck have we made
Of honour, dignity, and fair renown ;
Till prostitution elbows us afide
In all our crowded ftreets, and fenates feem
Conven'd for purpofes of empire lefs,
Than to releafe th' adultrefs from her band.
Th' adultrefs! what a theme for angry verfe,
What provocation to th' indignant heart
That feels for injur'd love! but I difdain
The nauseous task to paint her as he is,
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