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It is a fign your reputation is small and finking, if your own tongues must be your flatterers and commenders; and it is a fulfome and unpleafing thing for others to hear it.

25. Abhor all foul, unclean and obfcene fpeeches; it is a fign that the heart is corrupt; and fuch kind of speeches will make it worfe; it will taint and corrupt yourselves and thofe who hear it, and bring difreputation on those

who use it.

26. Never ufe any profane fpeeches, nor make jefts of fcripture expreffions. When you use the names of God or Chrift, or any paffages or words of the holy fcripture, ufe them with reverence and ferioufnefs, and not lightly or fcurriloufly, for it is taking the name of God in vain.

27. If you hear any unfeemly expreffions used in religious exercifes, you must be careful to forget and not to publish them, or if you at all mention them, let it be with pity and forrow, not with derifion or reproach.

ON THE PULPIT AND PREACHERS.

THE pulpit, therefore (and I name it, fill'd

With folemn awe, that bids me well beware
With what intent I touch that holy thing)
The pulpit (when the fatʼrift has at laft,
Strutting and vap'ring in an empty school,
Spent all his force and made no profelyte)
1 tay the pulpit, in the fober use

Of its legitimate, peculiar powers,

Muft ftand acknowledg'd, while the world shall stand,
The most important and effectual guard,

Support and ornament of virtue's caufe.

2.

There stands the meffenger of truth. There ftands

The legate of the fkies. His theme divine,
His office facred, his credentials clear.
By him, the violated law fpeaks out

Its thunders, and by him, in ftrains as sweet
As angels ufe, the gofpel whifpers peace.

3. He 'ftablishes the strong, reftores the weak, Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart,

And,

And, arm'd himfelf 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 hoft of God's elect.

4.

I venerate the man, whofe heart is warm, Whofe hands are pure, whofe doctrine and whose life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof

That he is honeft in the facred caufe.

To fuch I render more than mere respect,
Whofe actions fay that they refpect themselves.
5. But loofe in morals, and in manners vain;
In converfation frivolous, in drefs

card;

Extreme, at once rapacious and profufe,
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, fave when he fcrawls
Conftant at routs, familiar with a round
Of ladyfhips, a stranger to the poor;
Ambitious of preferment for its gold,
And well prepar'd by ignorance and floth,
By infidelity and love of th' world,
To make God's work a finecure; a slave
To his own pleasures, and his patron's pride.

6. From fuch apoftles, O ye mitred heads, Preferve the church! and lay not careless hands On fculls that cannot teach, and will not learn.

7. Would I describe a preacher fuch as Paul,
Were he on earth, would hear, approve and own,
Paul fhould himfelf direct me. I would trace
His mafter strokes, and draw from his defign.

8. I would exprefs him fimple, grave, fincere ;
In doctrine uncorrupt, in language plain;
And plain in manner. Decent, folemn, chatte,
And natural in gefture. Much imprefs'd
Himfelf, as confcious of his awful charge;
And anxious, mainly, that the flock he feeds
May feel it too. Affectionate in look
And tender in addrefs, as well becomes
A meffenger of grace to guilty men.
S 2

BRUTUS"

BRUTUS' SPEECH ON THE DEATH OF
CESAR.

ROMANS, COUNTRYMEN, AND LOVERS,

HEAR me, for my caufe; and be filent,

that you may hear.

Believe me, for mine honor; and

Cen

have refpect for mine honor, that you may believe. fure me, in your wifdom; and awake your fenfes, that you may the better judge.

2. If there be any in this affembly, any dear friend of Cefar, to him I fay, that Brutus' love to Cefar was no lefs than his. If then, that friend demand, why Brutus. rose against Cefar, this is my anfwer; not that I loved Cefar lefs, but that I loved Rome more.

3. Had you rather Cefar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cefar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cefar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it as he was valiant, I honor him; but, as he was ambitious, I flew him.

4. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor, and death for his ambition. Who's here fo bafe that he would be a bondian? If any, speak; for him have I offended.

5. Who's here fo rude, that he would not be a Roman ? If any, fpeak; for him have I offended. Who's here so vile, that he will not love his country? If any, fpeak; for hinr have I offended. I paufe for a reply.

6. None? Then none have I offended. I have done no more to Cefar, than you should do to Brutus. And as I flew my beft lover for the good of Rome, I referve the fame dagger for myself, whenever it shall please my country to need my death.

JUBA AND SYPHAX.

Juba. SYPHAX, I joy to meet thee thus alone.

ve obferv'd of late thy looks are fall'n,
aft with gloomy cares and discontent;

Then

Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee, tell me
What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in frowns,
And turn thine, eye thus coldly on thy prince?

Syphax 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Or carry fmiles or funfhine in my face,

When discontent fits, heavy at my heart :

I have not yet so much of the Roman in me.

Jub. Why doft thou caft out fuch ungenerous terms Against the lords and fovereigns of the world?. Doft not thou fee mankind fall down before them, And own the force of their fuperior virtue ? Is there a nation in the wilds of Afric, Amidst our barren rocks and burning fands,

That does not tremble at the Roman name?

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Syph. Where is the worth that fets this people up Above your own Numidia's tawny fons?

Do they with tougher finews bend the bow?
Or flies the javelin fwifter to its mark,
Launch'd from the vigor of a Roman arm?
Who, like our active African, inftructs
The fiery fteed, and trains him to his hand?
Or guides in troops the embattled elephant,
Laden with war? Thefe, these are arts, my prince,
In which your Zama does not stoop to Rome.

Jub. Thefe all are virtues of a meaner rank,
Perfections that are plac'd in bones and nerves.
A Roman foul is bent on higher views;
To civilize the rude unpoh'd world,
To lay it under the restraint of laws;
To make man mild, and fociable to man;
To cultivate the wild licentious favage
With wifdom, difcipline, and liberal arts;
The establishments of life; virtues like thefe
Make human nature shine, reform the foul,
And break our fierce barbarians into men.

Syph Patience, just heav'ns !-Excufe an old man's warmth.

What are those wondrous civilizing arts,
This Roman polifh, and this fmooth behavior,
That render man thus tractable and tame ?

Are they not only to disguise our paffions,

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To fet our looks at variance with our thoughts,
To check the ftarts and fallies of the foul,
And break off all its commerce with the tongue ?
In fhort, to change us into other creatures
Than what our nature and the gods defign'd us?
Jub. To ftrike thee dumb, turn up thy eyes to Cato!
There may't thou fee to what majestic height
The Roman virtues lift up mortal man.

While good, and juft, and anxious for his friends,
He's ftill feverely bent against himfelf:

Renouncing fleep, and reft, and food, and cafe,
He ftrives with thirst and hunger, toil and heat;
And when his fortune fets before him all
The pomp and pleasure that his foul can wifh,
His rigid virtue will accept of none.

Syph. Believe me, princé, there's not an African
That traverfes our vaft Numidian defarts

In queft of prey, and lives upon his bow,
But better practifes thefe boasted virtues.
Coarfe are his meals, the fortune of the chafe,
Amidst the running ftream he flakes his thirit,
Toils all the day, and at the approach of night
On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
Or refts his head upon a rock till morn;
Then rifes fresh, purfues the wonted game;
And if the following day he chance to find
A new repaft, or an untafted fpring,

Bleffes his ftars, and thinks its luxury.

Jub. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't difcern

What virtues grow from ignorance and what from choice,
Nor how the hero differs from the brute.

But grant that others could with equal glory
Look down on pleasures and the baits of sense;
Where fhall we find the man that bears affliction,
Great and majestic in his griefs, like 'Cato?
See, with what strength, what steadiness of mind,
He triumphs in the midst of all his fufferings !
How does he rife against a load of woes,

And thank the gods that threw the weight upon him!

Syph. Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of foul: think the Romans call it ftoicifm.

Had

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