Humane to all, but warm'd when virtuous grief,
Or filent modefty, imply'd relief.

Pure in his principles, unfhaken, juft;

True to his God, and faithful to his truft.

BEAUCLERK, farewel!-If, with thy virtues warm'd,
And not too fondly, or too rafhly charm'd,

I ftrive the tributary dirge to pay,
And form the pinion to the hafty lay;
The feeble, but well-meaning flight excufe:
Perhaps hereafter fome more gen'rous mufe,
Touch'd with thy fate, with genius at command,
May fnatch the pencil from the female hand;
And give the perfect portrait, bold and free,
In numbers fuch as Young's, and worthy Thee.

From her pieces of the lighter kind, we have selected the following epiftle, with which she shall conclude this article; leaving our author's prose writings to another opportunity.

EPISTLE, from FERN-HILL.

Charlot, who my controller is chief,
And dearly loves a little mifchief,
Whene'er I talk of packing up,
To all my measures puts a stop:
And tho' I plunge from bad to worse,
Grown duller than her own dull horfe ;
Yet out of complaifance exceeding,
Or pure perverfenefs call'd Good-breeding,
Will never let me have my way
In any thing I do, or fay.

At table, if I ask for Veal,
In complaifance, fhe gives me Quail.
I like your Beer; 'tis brisk, and fine
"O no; John, give Miss

fome Wine."
And tho' from two to four you stuff,
She never thinks you're fick enough:
In vain your Hunger's cur'd, and Thirst;
If you'd oblige her you must burft.
Whether in pity, or in ire,
Sometimes I'm feated next the fire;
So very clofe, I pant for breath,
In pure Good-manners fcorch'd to death.
Content I feel her kindness kill,

Į only beg to make my Will;
But ftill in all I do, or fay,

This nufance Breeding's in the way;
O'er which to step I'm much too lazy,
And too obliging to be easy.

Oft

Oft do I cry, I'm almost undone

To fee our friends in Brooke-street, London.
As seriously the nymph invites

Her flave to stay till moon-shine nights.
Lo! from her lips what language breaks!
What sweet perfuafion, when she speaks!
Her words fo foft! her fenfe fo ftrong!
I only wish to flit her Tongue.

But this, you'll fay's to make a clutter,
Forfooth! about one's bread and butter.

Why, be it fo; yet I'll aver,

That I'm as great a plague to Her;
For well-bred folks are ne'er fo civil,
As when they wish you at the D- -1,
So, Charlot, for our mutual ease,

Let's e'en fhake hands, and part in peace;
To keep me here, is but to teaze ye,
To let me go, would be to ease

ye.

As when (to fpeak in phrafe more humble)
The Gen'ral's guts begin to grumble,
Whate'er the cause that inward ftirs,
Or pork, or pease, or wind, or worse;
He wifely thinks the more 'tis pent,
The more 'twill struggle for a vent:
So only begs you'll hold your nose,
And gently lifting up his clothes,
Away the imprison'd vapour flies,
And mounts a zephyr to the skies.

So I (with rev'rence be it spoken)
Of fuch a guest am no bad token;
In Charlot's chamber ever rumbling,
Her pamphlets, and her papers tumbling,
Difplacing all the things the places,
And, as is ufual, in fuch cafes,
Making her cut most fad wry faces.
Yet fpite of all this rebel rout,
She's too well bred to let me out,

For fear you fqueamish nymphs at court
(Virgins of not the best report)
Should on the tale malicious dwell,
When me you fee, cr of me tell.

O Charlot! when alone we fit,
Laughing at all our own (no) wit,
You wifely with your cat at play,
I reading Swift, and spilling tea;
How would it please my ravish'd ear,
To hear you, from your eafy chair,
With lock ferene, and brow uncurl'd,
Cry out, A for all the world!

་

But

But you, a flave to too much breeding,
And I, a fool, with too much reading,
Follow the hive, as bees their drone,
Without one purpose of our own:
Till tir'd with blund'ring and mistaking,
We die fad fools of others making.
Stand it recorded on yon poft,
That both are fools then, to our coft!
The queftion's only, which is most?
I, that I never yet have fhewn
One fteady purpose of my own;

Or You, with both your blue eyes waking,
Run blund'ring on, by Choice mistaking?
Alas! we both might fleep contented,
Our errors purg'd, our faults repented;
Could you unmov'd, a squeamish look meet,
Or I forget our Friends in Brooke-Street.

ART. XXVII.

}

An effay towards a Rationale of the literal doctrine of original fin: or, vindication of God's wisdom, goodness, and juftice, in permitting the fall of Adam, and the fubfequent corruption of our human nature. By James Bate, M. A. rector of St. Paul's Deptford, &c. 8vo. Is. 6d. Owen.

S what is offered to the public in this performance is chiefly occafioned by fome of Dr. Middleton's writings, it is introduced with a few abftracts from the doctor's letter to Dr. Waterland, containing his objections to the doctrine of original fin. Mr. Bate alledges, how confiftently with candor let our readers judge, that few writers have lately appeared, who have been more willing to do justice to an objection against christianity then Dr. Middleton; but notwithstanding this, he tells us, that the doctor's objections to the doctrine of original fin are not fo confiderable, in regard either to weight or number, as may be brought against the true fcriptural account of the fall of man. To lend his adverfaries, therefore, a friendly lift upon this urgent occafion, he endeavours to do ample juftice to fuch objections as either have been, or, as far as he can fee, may yet be started against the reasonablenefs of the true literal fcripture doctrine of the fall of Adam, and the subsequent corruptions of the whole human race: after which he proceeds to give a folution of them.

Qur

Our author spends no time in commenting on the several circumftances of the fall of Adam, as they ftand recorded by Mofes, but refers his readers to archbishop King's fermon on the fall of man, which, he fays, is a most excel-lent and truly rational comment upon every branch, of this important narration, and confines himself entirely to what he calls the grand difficulty of all, viz. Why God fhould fuffer fo great an evil as the fall of Adam, and the fubfequent corruption of human nature, to happen, when he certainly could, with fo much ease have prevented it. In order to bring this inquiry to that fatisfactory iffue he thinks it capable of, he lays down, in the first place, fome principles neceffary to be well confidered, before we can conveniently come to the folution itself; and in the fecond place, from thofe principles fo eftablished, he endeavours to evince, that God's permitting the fall of man, was fo far from being an act of injuftice or cruelty, that it was moft wifely calculated to promote and enhance the true and ultimate happinefs of our nature.

He obferves, in the first place, that the whole oeconomy of redemption, and confequently the fall of man, that gave rife to it, exifted, in the divine mind and intention from all eternity; and that it is quite wrong to think, that in the fall of man, the devil did, as it were, out-wit the Creator, by throwing fomething like an unforeseen difficulty in his way, and by which God almighty was obliged to make the best he could of an unlucky accident.

In the fecond place, he endeavours to answer the following important queftion, viz. Why did God created fuch free moral agents, as he forefaw would abufe the freedom of their will? And why did he not rather confine himself to the creation of fuch free reafonable beings only, as he forefaw would use their freedom aright? His anfwer is, that God's permiffion of fuch moral evil was wife, and just and neceffary, becaufe, without it, he must have precluded himfelf from introducing into the univerfe, all those feveral forts of good which can be drawn out of moral evil only. He fuppofes that there are cafes in which the intervention of a wicked moral agent, is a tool fo neceffary, that omnipotence itself, without a contradiction, cannot work without it.

In the third place he is at great pains to fhew that what is recorded in fcripture, concerning the ftrange revolt and incurable madnefs of the fallen angels, is very agreeable to reafon and common fenfe; and confequently, that there is

nothing

nothing in the literal account of the fall of Adam, but what is likewife very confonant to reafon. Under this head het enquires into the probable causes of the fall of the angels, and endeavours to give a probable folution of their incurable enmity to God and goodness.

He proceeds, in the fourth place, to take a cursory view of the nature of that state, into which mankind, at the inftigation of the devil, was fuffered to fall through the fin of Adam; and laftly, to establish juft and right notions of rational happiness, the neceflary foundation of which, he tells us, is an abfolute freedom of will.

Having thus paved the way to the second general head, our author now endeavours to evince, that God's permitting the fall of Adam, and the fubfequent depravity and corruption of the whole human race, was fo far from being an act either of cruelty, weakness, or injustice, that it was a moft glorious display of his wisdom and goodness; and an event moft wifely calculated to promote, enhance, and immortalize the true and ultimate happiness of our nature. As we muft, to all eternity, be liable to fall, in confequence of our freedom of will, he is of opinion that no method could have been conceived, more wifely adapted to prevent our falling hereafter, than our having had here, in this mortal state, a Specimen and foretafte of the miferable, but fure and certain confequences of fin and disobedience. He thinks it impoffible, if not for all creatures in general, yet for all creatures, at least of our rank and fize, either rightly to estimate the malignity of any evil, without an experimental sense and feeling of it: or to gain a juft notion of the real value of any good we poffefs, till we have known the want of it, or had a taste of the oppofite evil. All the advantages, fays he, to be reaped from an experimental comparison of good and evil, pleasure and pain, conformity to God's will, and rebellion against it, had been entirely loft to us hereafter, if God's permiffion of the fall of Adam, and the subsequent corruption of our human nature, had not thrown us into our present state of probation. Without it our minds had been a mere charte blanche hereafter, divested of all real dread and just abhorrence of evil, having never felt it; good we might have tafted, or rather have been furrounded with, but we could never have thoroughly enjoyed it, for want of having a right notion of its value; either from a taste of the oppofite evil, or from a temporary privation of the good itfelf.In a word, had we gone out of the world in fuch a ftate as we must have VOL. VI.

been