the living. High is the privilege of Authorship: I purify mine office; Albeit earthy stains pollute it in my hands. For it is to the world a teacher and a guide, Mentor of that gay Telemachus; Warning, comforting, and helping,--a lover and friend of Man. Heaven's almoner, Earth's health, patient minister of goodness, With kind and zealous pen, the wise religious blesseth: Nature's worshipper, and neophyte of grace, rich in tender sympathies, With kindled soul and flashing eye, the poet poureth out his heartful: Priest of truth, champion of innocence, warder of the gates of praise, Carefully with sifting search laboureth the pale historian: Error's enemy, and acolyte of science, firm in sober argument, The calm philosopher marshalleth his facts, noting on his page their principles. These pour mercies upon men; and others, little less in honour, By cheerful wit and graphic tale refreshening the harassed spirit. But, there be other some beside, buyers and sellers in the temple, Who shame their high vocation, greedy of inglorious gain; There be, who fabricating books, heed of them meanly as of merchandise; And seek nor use, nor truth, nor fame, but sell their minds for lucre: O false brethren! ye wot indeed the labour, but are witless of the love; O lying prophets, chilled in soul, unquickened by the life of inspiration!-- And there be, who, frivolous and vain, seek to make others foolish, Snaring youth by loose sweet song, and age by selfish maxim; Cleverly heartless, and wittily profane, they swell the river of corruption: Brilliant satellites of sin,--my soul, be not found among their company. And there be, who, haters of religion, toil to prove it priestcraft, Owning none other aim nor hope, but to confound the good: Woe unto them! for their works shall live; yea, to their utter condemnation: Woe! for their own handwriting shall testify against them for ever.