THE BOROUGH. LETTER XIX. THE POOR OF THE BOROUGH. THE PARISH-CLERK. Nam dives qui fieri vult, Et citò vult fieri; sed quæ reverentia legum, Quis metus, aut pudor est unquam properantis avari? Juvenal. Sat. 14. Nocte brevem si fortè indulsit cura soporem, Juvenal. Sat. 13. The Parish-Clerk began his Duties with the late Vicar, a grave and austere Man; one fully orthodox; a Detecter and Opposer of the Wiles of Satan-His Opinion of his own Fortitude—The more frail offended by these Professions-His good Advice gives further Provocation-They invent Stratagems to overcome his Virtue-His Triumph —He is yet not invulnerable: is assaulted by Fear of Want, and Avarice—He gradually yields to the Seduction-He reasons with himself and is persuaded—He offends, but with Terror; repeats his Offence; grows familiar with Crime; is detected-His Sufferings and Death. THE BOROUGH. LETTER XIX. THE PARISH-CLERK. WITH Our late vicar, and his age the same, His clerk, hight Jachin, to his office came; The like slow speech was his, the like tall slender frame: But Jachin was the gravest man on ground, And heard his master's jokes with look profound; For worldly wealth this man of letters sigh'd, And had a sprinkling of the spirit's pride: There was indeed a frown, a trick of state Still 'twas allow'd that he should so behave As in high seat, and be severely grave. This book-taught man, to man's first foe profess'd In every act, had strife with every man ; That never evil deed on earth was done, The flattering guide to make ill prospects clear; "Me has the sly seducer oft withstood," "Their wanton ambling and their watchful wiles: 66 Nay, like the good John Bunyan, when I view "Those forms, I'm angry at the ills they do; • John Bunyan, in one of the many productions of his zeal, has ventured to make public this extraordinary sentiment, which the frigid piety of our clerk so readily adopted. "At feasts and banquets seldom am I found, "And (save at church) abhor a tuneful sound; "To plays and shows I run not to and fro, "And where forbear to go." my master goes No wonder Satan took the thing amiss, With his own peace our clerk was not content, 66 Nay, nay, my friends, from inns and taverns fly; "You may suppress your thirst, but not supply: "A foolish proverb says, the devil's at home;' "But he is there, and tempts in every room: “Men feel, they know not why, such places please; "His are the spells-they're idleness and ease; 66 Magic of fatal kind he throws around, "Where care is banish'd but the heart is bound. "Think not of beauty; when a maid you meet, "Turn from her view and step across the street; "Dread all the sex; their looks create a charm, "A smile should fright you and a word alarm: |