The good her dwindled power with pity saw, The bad with joy, and none but fools with awe. 130 Truth, with a simple and unvarnish'd tale, E'en from the mouth of Norton might prevail, Could she get there; but Falsehood's sugar'd strain Should pour her fatal blandishments in vain, Nor make one convert, though the Siren hung, Where she too often hangs, on Mansfield's tongue. Should all the Sophs, whom in his course the sun Hath seen, or past, or present, rise in one; Should he, whilst pleasure in each sentence flows, Like Plato, give us poetry in prose; 140 Should he, full orator, at once impart The Athenian's genius with the Roman's art; Genius and Art should in this instance fail, Nor Rome, though join'd with Athens, here prevail. 'Tis not in man, 'tis not in more than man, To make me find one fault in Nature's plan. Placed low ourselves, we censure those above, And, wanting judgment, think that she wants love; Blame, where we ought in reason to commend, And think her most a foe when most a friend. 150 Such be philosophers--their specious art, Though Friendship pleads, shall never warp my heart, Ne'er make me from this breast one passion tear, Which Nature, my best friend, hath planted there. _F_. Forgiving as a friend, what, whilst I live, As a philosopher I can't forgive, In this one point at last I join with you, To Nature pay all that is Nature's due; But let not clouded Reason sink so low, To fancy debts she does not, cannot owe: 160 Bear, to full manhood grown, those shackles bear, Which Nature meant us for a time to wear, As we wear leading-strings, which, useless grown, Are laid aside, when we can walk alone; But on thyself, by peevish humour sway'd, Wilt thou lay burdens Nature never laid? Wilt thou make faults, whilst Judgment weakly errs, And then defend, mistaking them for hers? Darest thou to say, in our enlighten'd age, That this grand master passion, this brave rage, 170 Which flames out for thy country, was impress'd And fix'd by Nature in the human breast? If you prefer the place where you were born, And hold all others in contempt and scorn, On fair comparison; if on that land With liberal, and a more than equal hand, Her gifts, as in profusion, Plenty sends; If Virtue meets with more and better friends; If Science finds a patron 'mongst the great; If Honesty is minister of state; 180 If Power, the guardian of our rights design'd, Is to that great, that only end, confined; If riches are employ'd to bless the poor; If Law is sacred, Liberty secure; Let but these facts depend on proofs of weight, Reason declares thy love can't be too great, And, in this light could he our country view, A very Hottentot must love it too. But if, by Fate's decrees, you owe your birth To some most barren and penurious earth, 190 Where, every comfort of this life denied,