ARGUMENT OF THE THIRD BOOK.
Self-recollection and reproof.—Address to domestic happiness. Some account of myself.-The vanity of many of their pursuits who are reputed wise. -Justification of my censures.- Divine illumination necessary to the most expert philosopher. -The question, What is truth? answered by other questions.-Domestic happiness addressed again.-Few lovers of the country. My tame Hare.-Occupations of a retired gentleman in his garden- Pruning.- Framing.- Greenhouse.Sowing of flower seeds-The country preferable to the town even in the winter.-Reasons why it is deserted at that season.-Ruinous effects of gaming, and of expensive improvement.—Book concludes with an apostrophe to the metropolis.
As
one, who long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled winds now this way and now that
His devious courfe uncertain, feeking home;
Or, having long in miry ways been foiled
And fore discomfited, from slough to slough
Plunging and half despairing of escape;
If chance at length he find a greenfward smooth
And faithful to the foot, his fpirits rife,
He chirrups brisk his ear-erecting steed,
And winds his way with pleasure and with ease;
So I, defigning other themes, and called
To 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 deserved),
Long held, and scarcely difengaged at laft.
But now with pleasant pace a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous and refreshed for future toil,
If toil await me, or if dangers new.
Since pulpits fail, and founding boards reflect
Moft part an empty ineffectual found,
What chance that I to fame fo little known,
Nor converfant with men or manners much,
Should fpeak to purpose, or with better hope
Crack the fatiric thong? "Twere wiser far
For me enamoured of fequeftered scenes,
And charmed with rural beauty, to repose,
Where chance may throw me, beneath elm or vine,
My languid limbs, when fummer fears the plains;
Or, when rough winter rages, on the foft
And fheltered Sofa, while the nitrous air
Feeds a blue flame, and makes a cheerful hearth;
There, undisturbed by folly, and apprized
How great the danger of difturbing her,
To mufe in filence, or at leaft confine
Remarks, that gall fo many, to the few
My partners in retreat. Difguft concealed
Is oft-times proof of wisdom, when the fault
Is obftinate, and cure beyond our reach.
Domestic happiness, thou only blifs
Of Paradife, that haft survived the fall!
Though few now tafte thee unimpaired and pure,
Or tafting long enjoy thee! too infirm,
Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets
Unmixt with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup;
Thou art the nurse of virtue, in thine arms
She smiles, appearing, as in truth fhe is,
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again.
Thou art not known where pleasure is adored,
That reeling goddess with the zoneless waist
And wandering eyes, ftill leaning on the arm
Of novelty, her fickle frail support;
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 shipwreck have we made
Of honour, dignity, and fair renown!
Till proftitution elbows us afide
In all our crowded ftreets; and fenates feem
Convened for purposes of empire less,
Than to release the adultrefs from her bond.
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