And ruled his Lady from the honey-moon. Nor shall we wonder; for, his house beside, } He had a sturdy multitude to guide, 120} Who now his spirit vex’d, and now his temper tried: } Men who by labours live, and, day by day, Work, weave, and spin their active lives away; Like bees industrious, they for others strive, With, now and then, some murmuring in the hive. James was a churchman—’twas his pride and boast; Loyal his heart, and “Church and King” his toast; He for Religion might not warmly feel, But for the Church he had abounding zeal. Yet no dissenting sect would he condemn, 130 “They’re nought to us,” said he, “nor we to them; ’Tis innovation of our own I hate, Whims and inventions of a modern date. “Why send you Bibles all the world about, That men may read amiss, and learn to doubt? Why teach the children of the poor to read, That a new race of doubters may succeed? Now can you scarcely rule the stubborn crew, And what if they should know as much as you? Will a man labour when to learning bred, 140 Or use his hands who can employ his head? Will he a clerk or master’s self obey, Who thinks himself as well-inform’d as they?” These were his favourite subjects—these he chose, And where he ruled no creature durst oppose. “[We’re] rich,” quoth James; “but if we thus proceed, And give to all, we shall be poor indeed: In war we subsidise the world—in peace We christianise—our bounties never cease; We learn each stranger’s tongue, that they with ease 150 May read translated Scriptures, if they please; We buy them presses, print them books, and then Pay and export poor learned, pious men; Vainly we strive a fortune now to get, So tax’d by private claims, and public debt.” Still he proceeds—“You make your prisons light, Airy and clean, your robbers to invite; And in such ways your pity show to vice, That you the rogues encourage, and entice.” For lenient measures James had no regard— 160 “Hardship,” he said, “must work upon the hard; Labour and chains such desperate men require; To soften iron you must use the fire.” Active himself, he labour’d to express, In his strong words, his scorn of idleness; From him in vain the beggar sought relief— “Who will not labour is an idle thief, Stealing from those who will;” he knew not how For the untaught and ill-taught to allow, Children of want and vice, inured to ill, 170 Unchain’d the passions, and uncurb’d the will. Alas! he look’d but to his own affairs, Or to the rivals in his trade, and theirs; Knew not the thousands who must all be fed, Yet ne’er were taught to earn their daily bread; Whom crimes, misfortunes, errors only teach To seek their food where’er within their reach; Who for their parents’ sins, or for their own, Are now as vagrants, wanderers, beggars known, Hunted and hunting through the world, to share 180