'Not Newton's self could look all nature through,
His, though a wide, was still a partial view.
'Experience teaches, from EFFECTS alone,
'The works of Deity in part are known.
'As time rolls on, with raptur'd eye, behold,
The laws of nature constantly unfold!
• Behold Galvani's vivid, viewless flame,
• Bids mimic life resuscitate the frame
Of man deceas'd;-the vital lamp to burn,
With transitory glow, in death's cold urn.
'See POINTED METALS, blest with power t'appease,
The ruthless rage of merciless disease,
O'er the frail part a subtil fluid pour,
'Drench'd with invisible Galvanic shower,
Till the arthritic, staff and crutch forego,
And leap exulting like the bounding roe!'

• What, though the CAUSES may not be explain'd,
Since these EFFECTS are duly ascertain'd,

'Let not self-interest, prejudice, or pride, Induce mankind to set the means aside:

'Means, which, though simple, are by Heaven design'd, 'T' alleviate the woes of human kind;

Life's darkest scenes with radiant light to cheer,

Wipe from the cheek of agony the tear.'

Blest be His Memory, who, in happy hour,

Friend to the wretched, time shall write thy name,

A second Howard, on the rolls of Fame.

When late the Fiend of Pestilence could boast
His power resistless o'er the western coast,
Poison'd the air with fell mephitic breath,

Gave countless thousands to the realms of death:
Unmov'd by fear, though relatives implore,
Mov'd by no claim, save pity for the poor,
Thou didst, humane, with god-like aim essay,
By med'cine's power, his fury to allay;

But soon COLUMBIA mourn'd a PERKINS' doom,
Which swell'd the triumph of the sateless tomb.

Ye worthy, honour'd, philanthropic few,

The Muse shall weave her brightest wreaths for you,

Who, in HUMANITY's bland cause, unite,
Nor heed the shafts by interest aim'd, or spite;
Like the great Pattern of Benevolence,
Hygeia's blessings to the poor dispense;
And, though oppos'd by folly's servile brood,
ENJOY THE LUXURY OF DOING GOOD.

ERRATA.

The Reader will please to correct with his pen the

following errors of the press.

Page 35, line 4 from top, for "funeral" read funereal.

In addition to the Critiques cited in pages xi & xii, the following may be introduced.

After stating how far inferior to Hudibras are the generality of modern imitators, the Reviewers proceed, " To a charge of this nature, the author of the present Poen pleads Not Guilty. With the mantle of Butler, he has likewise something of his inspiration, and has imitated him no less in his versification than in the spirit which supports it."

Monthly Register Review for May, 1803.

"We must acknowledge that this Poem has a considerable share of Hudibrastic drollery. The author is particularly happy in his ludicrous compounded rhymes, and has many other qualities to ensure no trifling success in doggrel verse." After a quotation from the Work, the Reviewers again enlarge on its ingenious burlesque, and "humourous notes," &c.

British Critic for May, 1803.

CANTO I.

OURSELF!

ARGUMENT.

GREAT Doctor Caustic is a sage
Whose merit gilds this iron age,
And who deserves, as you'll discover,
When you have conn'd this Canto over,
For grand discoveries and inventions,
A dozen peerages and pensions;
But having met with rubs and breakers
From Perkins' metal mischief makers;
With but three halfpence in his pocket,
In verses blazing like sky rocket,
He first sets forth in this Petition
His high deserts but low condition.

FROM garret high, with cobwebs hung,
The poorest wight that ever sung,
Most gentle Sirs, I come before ye,
To tell a lamentable story.

D

What makes my sorry case the sadder,
I once stood high on Fortune's ladder1 ;
From whence contrive the fickle Jilt did,
That your Petitioner should be tilted.

And soon th' unconscionable Flirt,
Will tread me fairly in the dirt,
Unless, perchance, these pithy lays
Procure me pence as well as praise.

Already doom'd to hard quill-driving,
'Gainst specter'd poverty still striving,
When e'er I doze, from vigils pale,
Dame Fancy locks me fast in jail.

Necessity, though I am no wit,
Compells me now to turn a poet;

1 I once stood high on Fortune's ladder.

Although Dame FORTUNA was, by ancient mythologists, represented as a whimsical being, cutting her capers on the periphery of a large wheel, I am justified in accomodating her Goddesship with a ladder, by virtue of a figure in Rhetoric called POETICA LICENTIA, (anglice) Poets' Licentiousness.