Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem; in two books. By the author of Sympathy

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

- PREFACE.

- HUMANITY. BOOK I.

- HUMANITY. BOOK II.

- ERRATA.

- Books written by Mr. PRATT.

- [bythesameauthor]

FINIS.

HUMANITY.

PRICE FIVE SHILLINGS.

HUMANITY, OR THE RIGHTS OF NATURE, A POEM; IN TWO BOOKS. BY THE AUTHOR OF SYMPATHY.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, STRAND.

1788.

PREFACE.

THE Reader is requested to consider this Performance as a GENERAL OUTLINE, with here and there some sketched features, of a Work, the nature of which, is frequently alluded to in different parts of the Poem, and the Title is specified on a separate leaf at the end.

What I ventured abroad some years since under the title of SYMPATHY—a poem, which on account of the interests created in the Heart, by the subject itself, was received by the Public with so much generous warmth—was intended to serve as a Preliminary to what I had farther to observe on SOCIETY, or a Prospect of the HUMAN RACE, under the combined influences of CLIME and GOVERNMENT, RELIGIONS, LAWS and LIBERTIES—From these, the transition to TYRANNY was natural and strongly in connexion; and from TYRANNY, I felt myself called upon by all the awakened emotions of HUMANITY, to consider SLAVERY; but not only that species of it which consists in buying and selling our Fellow-Creatures in Africa—BUT EVERY OTHER KIND, in EVERY OTHER PLACE. Views, therefore, of FREEDOM and BONDAGE, throughout the different parts of the globe, have been taken, as well from experience, as the best historical evidence.

In the order of my Poem on SOCIETY, perhaps the part which relates to the Inhuman Treatment of Negroes (for the Treatment appears to me more criminal than the Traffic) might not have taken the lead; not from any idea that these unhappy Beings are less entitled to the Rights of Nature, or the Regulations of Society, then any other parts of the HUMAN SPECIES; but, because, according to the series I meant to observe, the Prospect of the quarter of the Globe where this Trade principally subsists, would have been out of time and place. This objection being done away by the emulative Benevolence which is now excited in the Empire on this subject, it affords me the greatest pleasure that, by an anticipation of so much of what I had to remark on AFRICA as is confined to the Slave Trade (which, however, by no means exhausts what remains yet to be said in that division of my future work) I have a fair opportunity, and at a seasonable moment, to enforce the appeals of those who have the strongest claims on HUMANITY, in a performance devoted to its general interests.

How far the entire Abolition, so warmly contended for by the supporters of this measure, may be consistent with human policy, it is not my purpose particularly to enquire. It is not the name of Slave in itself, which produces the great mischief. An hired servant in Eu•ope may be as little at his own command, and destined to as hard labour as a purchased Negro in Africa; but the essential difference consists in the one being guarded by the laws of the land, which spread before his person and his property a shield that defends him from every abuse of power; and the other is left naked and defenceles to the "insolence of office."

HUMANITY requires that the RIGHTS OF NATURE should be enjoyed by every Human Being. It is therefore against the shocking barbarity, [*] the unquestionable cruelty, and the too well-attested horror, growing out of these, that I contend.—An abolition of these enormities is absolutely necessary. For the rest, whether the commerce flourishes or falls, is a matter of no moment to the Philanthropist: without engaging in the heats of political controversy; without attending to the pleas of interest on the one side, or the sallies of enthusiastic zeal (though generous in its excesses) on the other, it is sufficient to Him that the happiness of the species in general, is made independent on the tyranny of particular individuals,—that the laws of subordination, in the different classes of SOCIETY, should not violate the laws of humanity,—and that so much of liberty should be allowed to every man, a• to feel a consciousness of his being a link in the great chain of the community; and that till by some act of his own it is necessary for the good of the whole that he should be considered as an outcast of society, he is, by the Rights of nature and of Reason, entitled to protection from insult, misery and death.—So far as the wealth, can be reconciled to the happiness, of nations, and the Establishments of Civil Society to the Rights of Nature, every lover of his country must subscribe: at the fame time, as the wealth of worlds cannot justify the least wanton infraction of the laws of Humanity, whoever vainly attempts to support an argument for the one, at the expence of the other, erects a building which hath its foundation in the sands, and which must tumble into ruins at the slightest touch of Reason and of Truth.

Under this plain Conviction, I have felt and written, and shall continue to feel and write, upon Liberty and Slavery, Humanity and Nature; and I now submit my Sentiments to the candid, consideration of the Public, without any undue considence of success, or unmanly dread of miscarriage.—I have not thrust upon the world, what I wish it to honour with notice, without the previous approbation of some great, and good minds; but (very contrary to the case with which in earlier life I used to reconcile myself to hasty publication) were I not now to go to press till I was satisfied with my own performance, those whose partiality disposes them to praise, would blame me for unreasonable delay; and those, who are more prone to censure, would no more be indebted to me for furnishing them with subject for the exercise of their favourite talent. On every great and national occasion, however, our country has a claim on the best services we have to offer; and wherever they fall short of our wishes, or even of our own conceptions, the proverbial apology, that the ‘Intention sanctifies the Deed,’ ought to operate in our favour. Should the deed, in any measure, do justice to the intentions, in the present instance, applause will not be withheld, but it will only serve to animate my future exertions, to prove more deserving of it.

[FOR THE ERATTA SEE LAST PAGE.]

Notes

*

I am glad, however, to have it in my power to observe, that we have not suffered the HUMANITY of the French and other nations to surpass our own, at least in one of our islands, a• the following authentic extract from the Jamaica Councils will attest, dated November 20th, 1787.

"This day the House of Assembly went into a Committee on the Consolidated Slave Bill, and continued sitting upwards of three hours; we understand, that by this Bill the whole system of the law respecting Negroes, is entirely changed, a Council of Protection is established in each parish, and many humane provisions are introduced for rendering their condition easy and happy; it is also made felony, without benefit of clergy, to murder a Slave, a clause, which, to the great honour of the House, passed without a single dissenting voice.

↵

HUMANITY.
BOOK I.

FROM vernal blooms and many a fragrant bow'r,

The red'ning blossom and unfolding flower,

From breezy mountains and the covert vale,

The gliding water and the whispering gale,

From gayer scenes where careless Fancy stray'd,

Bask'd in the sun, or frolick'd in the shade,

Ambitious grown, and touch'd by generous praise,

Now turns the MUSE to more advent'rous lays;

No more she paints the tints of blushing morn,

Nor hangs the dew-drop on the trembling thorn;

No more the brook runs murmuring in her line,

No more fair Spring, her florid verse is thine;

Farewell, a long farewell, to founts and flow'rs,

Far loftier themes demand her thoughtful powers.

Where'er, sublime SOCIETY expands,

By art or nature form'd, thy potent bands,

Thro' realms of heat, where faints th' expiring breeze,

Or piercing climes, where the sun seems to freeze;

In darksome caverns, on tremendous steeps,

Th' embow'ring forest, or the billowy deeps;

Where roars the gulph, or where the streamlets flow,

Or dazzling mountains rise of endless snow,

Soon shall she dare to wing the vast domain,

THY awful power the subject of her strain.

But, ah! first kneeling at Compassion's shrine,

Her opening lay, HUMANITY, be thine!

For thou her guardian, patroness, and guide,

She owns with rapture, and obeys with pride!

Thee she invokes, oh! soother of distress,

Who with our kindness wove our happiness;

For as thy circling virtues round us move,

From their best deeds thy brightest joys we prove;

Oft as our neighbour sinks in sudden grief,

Thou wak'st as sudden to afford relief.

Oft as the stranger's bosom heaves with sighs,

The soft responses in our bosoms rise:

The cries of terror and the throes of care,

The groan of misery, and distraction's glare,

Sickness that droops, disease that gasps for breath,

The howl of madness, and the shrieks of death,

Deep sounds of agony that most affright,

Dread views of horror that most blast the sight,

Dire as they are, like wond'rous magnets draw,

And own, HUMANITY, thy sacred law.

And oh! 'tis THINE, when vital breath seems fled,

To seek the awful confines of the dead;

Drag the pale victim from the whelming wave,

And snatch the body from the floating grave;

Beneath the billow, tho' entomb'd it lies,

Thy dauntless zeal the roaring main defies;

Inspir'd by HIM, whose hallow'd touch restor'd

The darling babe the widow's soul deplor'd,

Her matron bosom eas'd of dire alarms,

And gave the child to her despairing arms,

'Tis THINE to plunge into the bloating flood,

Clasp the swol'n frame and thaw the frozen blood;

Breathe in the lips reanimating fire,

Till warm'd to SECOND LIFE, the DROWN'D respire.

Hark! as those lips once more begin to move,

What sounds ascend of gratitude and love!

Now with the GREAT REDEEMER's praise they glow,

Then bless the [*] agents of his power below;

New sprung to life, the renovated band,

Joyful before their second Saviours stand;

And oh far sweeter than the breathing spring,

Fairer than Paradise, the wreaths they bring!

The blissful homage rescu'd friends impart;

Th' enraptur'd incense of a parent's heart,

Oe'r-aw'd, and wond'ring at themselves, they see

And feel the power of soft HUMANITY!

When sovereign Reason from her throne is hurl'd,

And with her all the subject senses whirl'd,

From sweet HUMANITY, the nurse of grief,

Even thy deep woes, O PHRENZY! find relief;

For tho' the tresses loose and bosom bare,

And maniac glance thy hapless state declare,

With gentle hand she still supports thy head,

Beguiles thy wand'ring wit, and smoothes thy bed;

Assists thy roving fancy in its flight,

To crown thy airy sallies with delight;

An healing balm to thy warp'd sense she brings,

Till from her softness magic comfort springs,

And joys which reason with a frown denies,

Her tender pity with a smile supplies;

Ev'n in thy prison-house she bids thee draw

From the rush sceptre, and the crown of straw,

The mimic truncheon, and the love-knot true,

Full many a transport Reason never knew;

And at thy grated cell she oft appears,

She culls thee flowers, and bathes them with her tears;

The perfum'd violet and the blooming rose,

On thy hurt mind a transient bliss bestows;

Into a thousand shapes the garlands change,

As fairy fancy takes its antic range;

Then as thy brows the fragrant wreaths adorn,

The roses seem to bloom without a thorn.

Yet not to woes confin'd, for pleasure's song,

The reckless frolics of the village throng;

Ev'n as we pass them by in distant lands,

THOU mak'st our own, and oft we join the bands;

The sudden sounds of happiness we hail,

And swell the chorus echoing in the gale;

Gladly we pause, then blythe pursue our way,

While brighter sunshine seems to gild the day;

For from the jovial groupe as we depart,

THY richer sunshine beams upon the heart;

Thus bliss is doubled, and thus pain can warm,

From thee, HUMANITY, both boast a charm;

We chear, are chear'd, now grant and now receive,

And need, in turn, the comfort which we give.

Thus thy fair streams spread plenty where they run,

Yet bless the fountains whence those streams begun;

Like the rich NILE thy sources ne'er are dry,

Although a thousand channels they supply.

But Thou from whom these bosom'd comforts flow,

HUMANITY! thou friend to joy and woe,

Hast still ordain'd, that grief to crimes belong,

And that keen anguish shall attend on wrong;

Pride, hate, revenge, and tyranny, and strife,

As they mix poisons in the bowl of life,

Dash their own cup, and impotently try

To break, unpunish'd, nature's social tie:

Good, is of good productive, ill, of ill,

Conscience o'er both exerts her empire still,

And this great truth shall ev'ry tyrant know,

THE WOE HE GIVES, SHALL BE REPAID BY WOE.

Is there a land where echoing Fame extends,

From her proud cliff to earth's remotest ends,

Where gently slop'd the teeming vales are seen,

Adorn'd like Eden's with eternal green,

Where ev'ry village glows with every wealth,

The showers are riches, and the breezes health;

Where the sun gives serene his temper'd ray,

But never scourges with excessive day;

Where female beauty sheds her fairest blooms,

And lovliest feature, loveliest grace assumes;

Darts strongest magic from the potent eye,

Breaks in the blush, and shoots along the sigh;

Where ev'ry scene is prodigal of charms,

True courage kindles, and true glory warms,

Where brave resistance lifts the conquering arm,

And social blessings lend their softest charm;

Where rear'd to Virtue, Christian temples tow'r,

And melting Charity chastises pow'r,

Conducts the naked stranger to her dome,

And grants the houseless wanderer an home,

Where equal laws such genial mildness shew,

They beam sweet mercy on a captive foe?

O native Britons! here assert your claim,

Boast of your ISLE and justify her fame!

Tell, how her youth by sacred science led,

To all the soft'ning charities are bred;

How second childhood, like the first, receives,

From her the cradle which compassion gives!

Tell, how her palaces of mercy rise,

Large tho' the wants still larger the supplies;

How, her kind [*] GILBERT frames protective laws,

A faithful champion in the poor man's cause;

How, even now, intent on god-like deeds,

Thy wants and woes, O! POVERTY, he pleads:

Earnest thy oft-invaded rights to spare,

From the hard hand that would thy pittance tear,

E'en from thy lip, nor heed thy tear-dimm'd eye,

Thy spectre form, and pity-moving cry:

Tell how her [†] BIRCH, whose heart is form'd to bless,

The sad to succour, and the wrong'd redress;

The ravish'd morsel of the poor to save,

The work to crown her warm assistance gave.

Tell how her [‡] POTTER aids the generous plan,

As bard her pride, her nobler boast as man:

Tell, how her HOWARD's sympathizing soul,

Extends the Saviour-arm from pole to pole:

Crutch to the lame, and vision to the blind,

Tell, how she sooths the ills that scourge mankind:

All this proclaim, till nations bless the zone,

And happy Albion marks it for her own!

Just is the boast! yet why to home confin'd

Are the soft mercies of thy Albion's mind?

Why, at her bidding, rolls the crimson flood,

To deluge AFRIC in her children's blood?

Why torn from Sire, from children, and from wife,

Dragg'd at her wheels, are captives chain'd for life;

And why do hecatombs each day expire,

Smote by her mangling whip and murderous fire?

Those stripes, those yielding shrieks that rend the air,

Ill fated AFRICA, thy wrongs declare?

Blush, Britain blush, for thou, 'tis thou hast sold

A richer gem than India's mines can hold;

Traffic'd thy soft HUMANITY away,

And turn'd her strongest objects into prey!

Thy generous sons upon that fatal shore,

Their nature lose, and harden into ore:

There greedy avarice, rears his venal throne,

'Midst seas of blood that float the sultry zone;

With wiry lash and iron rod he sways,

The tyrant orders, and the slave obeys;

Havoc and horror rage at his command,

And dissolution covers all the land!

O! that my Muse could mount on Nature's wing,

Soar like her "darling," her lov'd Shakespeare, sing!

Then ev'ry word should "harrow up the soul"

And Afric's wrongs resound from pole to pole!

Thrice humble HOWARD, ah! do thou inspire

And breath thy Godlike spirit in my lyre,

For, all accustom'd as thou art, to see

The direst scenes of human misery,

To go where nature scourges with disease,

"[*] And spotted deaths load ev'ry tainted breeze;

Where ev'n the strong Antipathies assail,

Haunts of the filth-fed toad, and slimy snail,

The noxious caverns, and abhorrent caves,

Where wretches pace alive around their graves:

While hollow echoes ring their endless knells

Thro' deep-scoop'd vaults and slow-consuming cells;"

Ne'er did thy eyes such marks of horror trace,

As hourly agonize the Negro race!

Prove then the prisoner and the mourner's friend,

And once again thy virtuous influence lend;

"So raptur'd notes, as if by Angles giv'n,

Once more shall peal the harmonies of Heaven:"

Again the virtues that revere thy name,

Wide o'er the realm, shall spread th' ingenuous flame,

Pity's high priest the righteous cause shall plead,

And shouts of joy to cries of blood succed;

HOWARDS unnumber'd shall the truth embrace,

"And feel a-kin to all the human race:

Again, shall Avarice suspend his art

And feel again, subdu'd, his rugged heart;

His bosom loosen'd from the sullen ore,

The rock shall gush in blessings to the poor.

Wouldst thou the map of slavery survey,

And the dire circuit of the trade display,

Dart thy astonish'd eye o'er distant lands,

From Senegal to Gambia's burning sands,

Pursue the blushing lines to Congo's shore,

Then traverse many a league, Benguela o'er,

Career immense! o'er which the merchant reigns,

And drags reluctant MILLIONS in his chains!

COMMERCE! thou sailest on a sanguine flood,

On a red sea of Man's devoted blood;

Thy pompous robe, tho' gemm'd as India's store,

Proud, tho' it flows, is dy'd in human gore.

The tears of millions bathe thy fatal cane,

And half thy treasure springs from human pain,

And not an idol on thy altars shine

But human victims stain the crimson shrine!

And thou, O INT'REST! dark, insidious power,

Whose sanction'd arts waste nations in an hour;

Whose mining frauds, more fatal still, destroy

Hope's tender blossom, and the fruits of joy;

Thou, to whom all the coward slights belong,

Thy heart too cruel for a generous wrong,

For fierce Revenge, that fever of the soul,

Hate that defies, and Love that spurns controul,

Or mad'ning Jealousy when Reason bends,

Or Zeal, extravagant to liberal ends,

Thou, who, for noble faults like these, too cold,

Whose vices n'er aspire, but stoop to gold,

That groveling passion of the sordid breast,

Like Aaron's serpent swallowing up the rest;

Theft, rapine, plunder, fraud, and murder, stand,

Fell ministers! to wait thy dire command.

Yes thou, the founder of this impious trade,

Mad'st him a slave, that nature never made,

Tore the poor Indian from his native soil,

And chain'd him down to never-ending toil.

Ah! luscious mischief, slave-creating CANE,

Of ev'ry soft HUMANITY the bane:

Thy venom'd sweet, whose soul-polluting art

Like some mask'd poison, eats into the heart,

Sweet tho' thou art, an aspic sting is thine,

And into shambles, Christians turn thy shrine:

Thou, like vile Gold, from the embowel'd earth,

By avarice dragg'd reluctantly to birth,

To taste thy charm are groaning nations bound,

And half mankind in kindred blood are drown'd!

Say, MUSE, from whence th' unnatural mart began,

The sordid merchandise, and sale of man?

From Egypt first the Ethiop traffic came,

But dawn'd so mild, that slavery was not shame;

While nature yet preserv'd some generous right,

The yoke was easy and the burthen light;

And here the patriarch law each wrong restrain'd,

And "eye for eye, and tooth for tooth" ordain'd.

Soon o'er th' Aegean waves the trade was brought,

Travell'd to GREEce, till ROME th' infection caught;

Yet temperate still, no tyranny arose,

Till baneful LUXURY marshall'd all her woes;

Conquerors, their captives, with a smile receiv'd,

And whom the brave embrac'd they ne'er deceiv'd;

The battle o'er, they bade contention cease,

And foes in war were humble friends in peace,

The pledge was solemn, and the vow sincere,

The union sacred, and the compact dear.

But oh! fair ATHENS, when the commerce drew

To thy lov'd shore, the bonds yet gentler grew,

The slave could boast a guardian in thy laws,

And summon justice to support his cause,

Ev'n to thy holy altars might repair,

Assert his claims and find them honour'd there:

In rosy fetters were thy pris'ners bound,

And in captivity with freedom crown'd;

Wisdom in peace, or valour in the war,

The faithful counsel or the glorious scar,

Attachment prov'd, and servitude sustain'd

With manly zeal, their liberty regain'd;

With his own hand the master loos'd the yoke,

But the slave scarce perceiv'd the bonds were broke,

So soft the texture, he ne'er felt their weight,

Nor chang'd his master tho' he chang'd his state:

Captive no more, he still pursu'd his toil,

And grateful vow'd allegiance to the soil.

Yes, classic ATHENS, nurse of generous arts,

Thine was the throb HUMANITY imparts;

To freemen rose thy slaves, and then aspir'd,

To all thy sons, to all thy state requir'd;

Ev'n to Athenian loyalty they grew,

Till scarce thy citizens a difference knew;

While shameless SPARTA butcher'd half her slaves,

Convulsive shook, and dug untimely graves.

Despis'd, abhor'd, and dreaded was their sway,

To all a tyrant's guilt and fears a prey:

Thou too, lost ROME, how galling was thy chain

In those dire times, when mercy su'd in vain;

When cut to atoms was the debtor's heart,

That each hard creditor might claim his part!

And oh! degraded GREECE, how fall'n thy state,

Once like thy splendid rival wise and great;

Nor less her rival in thy vices found,

Both soaring now, now sinking to the ground;

How dimm'd thy orb, when Sages could ordain,

The sanguine whip, and vindicate the chain:

When thy grave PLUTARCH, wise, discreet, and brave,

Stern in philosophy could stab his slave;

And thy DEMOSTHENES, in thunders urge,

The sovereign virtues of the mangling scourge;

O blind! to think where smiles and kindness fail

To touch the soul, that frowns and stripes prevail!

Hail tender ADRIAN, first on Rome's record,

Who drew distinct the line 'twixt slave and lord;

Who with sweet mercy temper'd awful power,

While pity's angel hail'd th' auspicious hour!

Thou Christian emperor in whose generous breast

The light of pure devotion shone impress'd,

That sacred light descending from above,

An emanation of coelestial love;

With speed of light'ning spread the lambent ray,

Till realms of darkness kindled into day;

From God himself the spark etherial came,

And man ador'd the soul-illuming flame!

Thou too, just CONSTANTINE, with gentle sway,

Bade all be free and all that God obey;

The fire from Heav'n a general lustre shed,

And the foul mists of superstition fled;

Fair Faith was crown'd, her banner was displayed,

Sunk was the crosier and the cross prevail'd.

But ah! once more to stain the bloody shrine

And sell mankind, O PORTUGAL, was thine;

To thee ill-fated Afric owes her pain,

The scourge fresh pointed and the new forg'd chain;

Thine the base arts the sons of gold applaud,

The smile deceptive, and the snare of fraud,

Th' extended hand that chases fear away,

Th' embrace that wins affection to betray,

The league of peace in policy devis'd,

The compact broken and the oath despis'd,

To lure the heart all smooth seductions try'd,

And the heart gain'd, disguise's thrown aside:

The plot avow'd, the promise boldly broke,

By the harsh driver and the galling yoke.

Accurs'd GONZALES taught thee first the art,

To six this stigma on his country's heart;

The dire example spread with barbarous rage,

Thrift was the vice, and spar'd nor sex nor age;

At length the traffic into system came,

Th' infection flew, till Britain caught the flame;

Detested HAWKINS arm'd his pirate host,

And wolfe-like prowl'd on Guinea's fated coast;

Force, brib'ry, stratagem, were all employ'd,

O shame! till twice ten millions were destroy'd.

The work of Christians this, whose lawless rage

Taught milder savages foul wars to wage;

Christians taught savages new modes of strife,

And burst asunder all the ties of life;

Christians taught savages to worship gold,

Till, for their idol, sons and sires were sold:

Till sleeping tribes at midnight's hour were caught,

And seiz'd as prey, to public market brought;

Till from the breast the babe was stol'n away,

And children kidnapp'd in the face of day.

Next tawny SPAIN the shameful trade pursu'd,

Theft grew familiar, tyranny ensued;

The tawny slave on his oppressor pour'd,

And mad with smart, his haughty lord devour'd:

Insidious SPAIN! still vanity thy guide,

Thou mixture loath'd of penury and pride,

Slothful in dignity, supine in state,

Active alone in cruelty and hate:

Commerce, like this, might well command thy zeal,

O! patron of the agonizing wheel!

From where wild Biscay throws its foam around,

And aids the deaf'ning tempests frantic sound;

Ev'n to the steeps where Pyrenees ascend,

And like a rocky chain their links extend,

The nations shuddered as it sprang to birth,

And throes unwonted shook the lab'ring earth!

Thou, TORQUEMADA, thy assistance gave,

To fix this engine which the thoughts enslave;

Sedately savage, thou could'st calm behold,

Men scatter'd piece-meal, tho' thy rage was cold:

Quaff'd the warm blood, enforc'd the torturing power,

And view'd with horrid joy the flames devour.

School'd in thy climes demoniac arts, could bear

To see the cord inflict, the pincers tear;

Array'd thy victims in the rich attire,

And danc'd, like Satan, round thy feast of fire.

Ah! well might SLAVERY thrive in such a hand,

For all are slaves in a despotic land;

Precarious life is pass'd in trembling awe,

And the proud tyrant owns the breath they draw.

POWER, like a miser, spreads the greedy hand,

Still stepping onward, never at a stand,

A subtle miner working still his way,

In av'rice of accumulating sway;

Tools would be statesmen, statesmen would be kings,

And they would mount upon the angels wings;

POWER first advances with a modest air,

But, born a tyrant, quickly learns to dare;

By due degrees he throws each barrier down,

Thinks strength is right, and calls the world his own;

At length grown absolute, assumes the God,

And proves at once a pestilence and rod,

Till, grown incautious, some rash point he tries,

And in the ruin of his project lies.

Behold where fated FLORIDA extends,

His blood-track'd course the fell VELASQUEZ bends,

Launches his guilty bark upon the waves,

To kidnap free-born men and make them slaves!

See, as he gains the chain-devoted land,

The sable natives hurry to the strand,

His sailing castle on the waves they view,

And gaz'd with wonder as it near them drew;

But on the deck when human forms appear'd,

And peaceful signals smil'd, no more they fear'd;

'Twas MAN they trusted, MAN who spoke them fair,

Cajol'd their faith, and lur'd them to the snare!

And now as guests they land, as guests are led,

Thro' palmy groves to every Indian shed;

The Spaniards there their glitt'ring stores unfold,

The shining mirrour, and the toy of gold;

Each gaudy bauble, cheats the Indian's eyes,

And tricks his passions into fond surprize,

Teaches new luxuries and wants unknown,

Till Europe's vice and folly is his own;

The useless ornaments his senses fire,

And each fresh gewgaw kindles fresh desire;

Fair in the glass another self he sees,

Till harmless wonder swells to vanities;

From lures like these the baneful passions grow,

And what began in pleasure ends in woe:

Frauds heap'd on frauds to purchase these were taught,

And every trinket was with blood-shed bought.

But soon as guests, in turn, the Indian bands

Condemn'd, alas! to quit their native lands

No fraud suspecting, mount the treacherous ship,

Where, as in ambush, lie the chains and whip;

Like nested snakes, whose poisons are enroll'd

Mid'st wreaths of flowers, in many a shining fold;

The faithless Spaniard leaves the plunder'd shore,

His fraud succeeds, and freedom is no more.

Then o'er th' affrighted waves is heard the yell

Of mingled thousands in their wat'ry Hell,

Shut from the light, unknowing yet their doom,

The vessel proves a prison and a tomb:

In the dark caverns of the bark they lie,

Live to fresh horrors or in bondage die;

While the base tyrant glorying in his snare,

Mocks at the loud rebuke and dumb despair.

Soon as the vessel bore the tribes away,

What horrors seiz'd upon the trembling prey!

Ah! hear the shrieks of kindred left behind,

Roll to the wave and gather in the wind!

Matrons with orphans, sons with sires appear,

But vain affection's shriek and nature's tear:

The Spainsh pirate ploughs the watr'y plains,

And plants his cannon at the thin remains;

The flaming balls the wailing natives reach,

And added slaughter stains the crimson beach;

All, all is lost; but with a generous pride,

E'en slaves spurn life, when freedom is deny'd:

"Free, still be free, loud echoes to the sky,

Dare not to live in bondage, dare to die!"

But oh! ye Christian savages, declare

On what unknown prerogative ye dare?

Peaceful and blest, where rich Bananas grew,

And nature freshen'd as the sea-breeze blew,

Where harvests smil'd without the aid of toil,

And verdure gladden'd the exuberant soil,

Where summer held so bountiful a sway,

Scarce claim'd their year, the culture of a day,

The plants at twilight trusted to the earth,

The following morn sprang blooming into birth,

Grac'd with the bow, the Indians harmless ran,

And undisturb'd enjoy'd the rights of man:

The rights of man by nature still are due,

To men of ev'ry clime and every hue;

Their arrows sought the monsters of the wood,

The chase at once their pastime and their food,

Bower'd by th' umbrageous vine, they thought no wrong,

Now wreath'd the dance, and carol'd now the song;

And oft some sable mistress of the soul,

Prepar'd the banquet, and partook the bowl:

Shar'd every bliss that genuine nature gave,

And often own'd the vanquish'd heart a slave.

The willing captive, wore fair beauty's chain,

And pleas'd, submitted to the tender pain.

If giant POWER confers this wanton sway,

Subdues the strong, and makes the weak obey,

Does power give RIGHT? beware that dangerous plea,

Perchance its tendency thou do'st not see.

The slave once stronger than thyself, shall stand,

And seize intripid on thy stern command;

Arm'd with thy iron sceptre bid thee toil,

Scar thy white skin, and chain thee to the soil:

Thy spirit fainting in the glare of day,

Shall bid thee naked brave the torrid ray,

Retort thy scorn, retaliate all thy rage,

Wear out thy youth, and murder thee in age;

Tear from thy fetter'd arms thy child and wife,

And blast the budding promises of life;

Repay, in turn, each stroke thy baseness gave,

And make thee feel what 'tis to be a slave.

Ah! false as fatal! to the Weak and Strong,

Th'inherent rights of nature still belong:

No partial principles the just impel

To thinking wisely, or to acting well;

For liberty, of all mankind the cause,

Becomes a forfeit only to the laws,

Those sacred compacts which like links sustain,

Connecting parts of the great social chain:

And while, with these, no member is at strife,

As full the right to liberty as life:

Alike the boon of heav'n, and never ends,

From sire to son, from son to sire descends;

Avaunt assertors of superior right,

And vain distinctions betwixt black and white.

Firm and immovable on nature's base,

Stands the grand charter of the human race;

For HE who gave us life bade life be free,

And, to enhance his gift, sent Liberty!

Then, whence this wond'rous difference in our race?

Come crested Pride, and the distinction trace:

Lo, from th' Equator to the northern pole,

Tho' colours change, unchangeable the soul!

If justly bought the man of deepest die,

By equal laws the next in shade we buy;

So, soft'ning on, till scarce a tint between

The haughty lord and humble slave is seen;

Springs the vain boast from thy superior WHITE,

Vain prepossession of thy partial sight?

Beware, fallacious reas'ner, lest the North

His whiter rival sends indignant forth!

Ah! rather blushing hide thy snowy skin,

For know thy slave paints white the sire of sin;

And darker than himself he draws the POW'R,

Which, as his sovereign good his race adore;

Thy cruelty has taught him to despise,

Like hell thy hue, his own like heav'n to prize.

NATURE and HABIT, human kind controul,

The needle one, and one th' attractive pole;

And what, in Europe, we a grace may call,

Is found in Africa no grace at all;

And what abhorr'd deformity we name,

In many a climate dignifies with fame.

Survey the various globe from shore to shore,

Weigh MANNERS, CUSTOMS, and be proud no more;

Thou, who would'st fix her to the palest face,

See, how for these ev'n BEAUTY shifts her place:

All, all to nature or opinion bow,

Or fond caprices, which from habit flow;

Here BEAUTY proudly boasts the length'ning head,

There on the shoulders bids it broadly spread:

Here sma•lest gems must grace the fair one's ear,

And there the pendents large as logs appear;

Here see her ask the locks of snowy white,

Yet beg the charm of teeth more dark than night,

Here must the broaden'd eye-brow shade the face,

There softly curv'd must crescent archings grace:

While here those crescent archings must depart,

Stubb'd from the root for painted brows of art:

Here, BEAUTY loves the cheek supremely fair,

There boasts the gash and cherishes the scar.

In Britain, rose and lilly must unite,

While Damian's Isthmus, claims the milky white:

The beard must here e'en to the girdle flow,

There not a bristle must presume to grow;

Here the swoll'n body, there the slender waist,

This wrap'd in silk, and that in dog-skin grac'd;

Here BEAUTY triumphs in her wooly hair,

But waves in wreaths, her auburn tresses there:

To grace the dames of Europe, fair they flow,

Long and profuse upon a neck of snow,

In ev'ry curl a Cupid seems to lie,

To aid the conquests of the sparkling eye.

The thickest lip here beauty makes her care,

More softly swell'd, like dewy rose-buds there;

The dazzling white is in this clime admir'd,

In that the glossy black is more desir'd.

Feel humbly then, nor deem all grace thy own,

Nor think that Nature charms in thee alone;

The poorest native of the poorest coast,

Hath still his beauty, still his good to boast;

From earth's beginning to its utmost ends,

Proportion'd charm, proportion'd bliss she sends,

Exact division, but adapted still,

To what in different climes her children feel,

To what, when undebauch'd by man's desires,

Or fancied wants, necessity requires;

Nor sparing, nor yet prodigal her plan,

With pois'd equality she blesses man:

On the worst soil some heartfelt joy bestows,

Which the glad son, she there has station'd, knows,

And what from us extorts the taunting sneer,

May to his sense an happiness appear,

As the fond gifts which we indulgent deem,

To him an aggravated curse may seem.

Thus kind is nature in her zone serene,

But not more kind than in her torrid scene;

Not less a parent where the frozen Power

Resides for centuries in his icy tower,

Where the hoar monarch in his vest of snow,

Ascends the hills where suns refuse to glow.

Vain all dispute of colour, form or size,

[*] In pride, in pride alone the difference lies;

Whence, then, presumpt'ous man, proceeds thy right,

And by what law does olive yield to white?

Why has not brown, black, copper, equal claim,

Their nature, origin, and end, the same?

All of one species, all of equal birth,

Tho' shifting colours like their parent earth.

If not in colour then, perchance in sense,

In the soul's power, may lie the proud pretence,

Ah no! from Nature's hand all equal came,

Thro' ev'ry clime an helpless babe's the same,

The same frail emblem of our state appears,

A weak and helpless being born in tears!

If cultur'd climes refine on nature's plan,

They change the mode, but never change the man.

The human passions strongly are impress'd,

In the untutor'd, as the polish'd breast;

In the swarth African that's bought and sold,

As the fair plunderer that steals his gold,

Heav'n form'd his eyes to love his native hue,

And pointed all his appetites as true,

Those sable tints, at which with fear we start,

Are the lov'd colours that attract his heart:

Our polish'd arts, refinement may bestow,

But oft enfeeble nature's genuine glow.

In polish'd arts unnumber'd virtues lie,

But ah! unnumber'd vices they supply;

Here, if they bloom with ev'ry gentler good,

There are they steep'd with more than savage blood;

Here, with Refinement, if sweet Pity stands,

There Luxury round them musters all her bands;

'Tis not enough that daily slaughter feeds,

That the fish leaves its stream, the lamb its meads,

That the reluctant ox is dragg'd along,

And the bird ravish'd from its tender song,

That in reward of all her music giv'n,

The lark is murder'd as she soars to Heav'n.

'Tis not enough, our appetites require

That on their altars hecatombs expire;

But cruel man, a savage in his power,

Must heap fresh horrors on life's parting hour:

Full many a being that bestows its breath,

Must prove the pang that waits a ling'ring death,

Here, close pent up, must gorge unwholesome food,

There render drop by drop the smoaking blood;

The quiv'ring flesh improves as slow it dies,

And Lux'ry sees th' augmented whiteness rise;

Some creatures gash'd must feel the torturer's art,

Writhe in their wounds, tho' sav'd each vital part.

From the hard bruise the food more tender grows,

And callous Lux'ry triumphs in the blows:

Some, yet alive, to raging flames consign'd,

By piercing shrieks must sooth our taste refin'd!

O power of mercy, that suspends the rod!

O shame to man, impiety to God!

Thou polish'd Christian, in th' untutor'd see,

The sacred rights of sweet HUMANITY.

Thine is the World, thy crimson spoils enjoy,

But let no wanton arts thy soul employ,

Live, tho' thou do'st on blood, ah! still refrain,

To load thy victims with superfluous pain;

Ev'n the gaunt tyger, tho' no life he saves,

In generous haste devours what famine craves;

The bestial paw may check thy human hands,

And teach dispatch to what thy want demands,

Abridge thy sacrifice, and bid thy knife,

FOR HUNGER KILL, BUT NEVER SPORT WITH LIFE.

Relief appears as the Muse shifts her place,

To where pure manners bless the gentlest race;

Lo, where the BRAMINS pass their blameless life,

Free from proud culture, free from polish'd strife.

To man, brute, insect, nature's constant friends,

The heart embraces and the hands extends;

See the meek tribe refuse the worm to kill,

No murder feeds them, and no blood they spill;

But crop the living herbage as it grows,

And quaff the living water as it flows,

From the full herds, the milky banquet bear,

And the kind herds repay with pastures fair;

From sanguine man they drive the game away,

From sanguine man they save the sinny prey,

The copious grain they scatter o'er the mead,

The bird to nourish and the beast to feed,

The flowers their couch, their roof the arching trees,

And peaceful nights succeed to days of ease.

O! thou proud Christian, aid fair nature's grace,

And catch compassion from the Bramin race:

Their kind extremes and vegetable fare,

Their tender maxims, all that breathe to spare:

Suit not thy cultur'd state, but all should know,

Like them to save unnecessary woe;

Like them to give each generous feeling birth,

And prove the friends not tyrants of the earth.

O sweet HUMANITY! might pity sway,

All, all like Bramins would thy voice obey;

For ah! to heighten joy and solace woe,

All need, alas! thy tender aid below.

One leans on all, for help, not all on one,

What worm so feeble as proud man alone?

The veriest giant, by himself is found,

Frail as the reed that every breeze can wound,

But even the pigmy with associates join'd,

Strong as the oak, can brave the rudest wind;

The SOCIAL PASSION opens with our breath,

Pursues thro' life, and follows us to death.

See, as yon infant lull'd in slumber lies,

How the fond mother to its cradle flies,

Soft on her faithful breast reclines its head,

Her faithful breast its banquet and its bed:

Tho' many a suffering for its sake she bore,

They all but serve to make her love it more,

For soon a kindred passion equal burns,

The parent's tenderness the child returns,

Runs by her side, or struggles to her knee,

And owns the touch of fair HUMANITY:

The child arrived at man, the parent lies,

Sick'ning at life, in haste her offspring flies,

Explores the chamber, tho' disease be there,

And hangs with catching deaths the putrid air:

And when, at length, the mother yields to fate,

Stretch'd round her breathless form the affections wait;

In mute distress, and with uplifted hands,

The child she cradled, at her coffin stands,

Invokes her spirit to assuage the woe,

And teach meek patience to endure the blow;

Blesses the holy shade which gave him birth,

Moves to the grave, and views the opening earth,

A filial shudder thro' his frame he proves,

As the dust falls upon the dust he loves:

Then, as the time steals on with thief-like power,

And brings to him the all-subduing hour,

Himself, e're this a parent, soon shall prove

The soft'ning offices of filial love,

For those who owe him life shall weeping bend,

And his attracting couch as fondly tend,

Watch his dim'd eye, observe his changing cheek,

And drink his dying breath to hear him speak,

His latest accents in their hearts enshrine,

As sainted sounds of oracles divine;

Thus shall he feel the tenderness he gave,

And equal tears fall fast upon his grave.

Tyrants o'er brutes with ease extend the plan,

And rise in cruelty from beast to man;

Their sordid policy each crime allows,

The flesh that quivers and the blood that flows,

The furious stripes that murder in a day,

Or torturing arts that kill by dire delay:

The fainting spirit, and the bursting vein,

All, all are reconcil'd to Christian gain.

In cold barbarian apathy behold,

Sits the slave-agent bending o'er his gold;

That base contractor for the chain and rod,

Who buys and sells the image of his God.

Callous to ev'ry touch that nature lends,

The bond that ties him to his kind he rends,

Robber at once and butcher of his slaves,

Nor grief, nor sickness, age, nor sex he saves,

But plung'd in traffic, coldly can debate,

The parent's destiny, the infant's fate;

The teeming mother of her hope despoil,

And poise the gains of child-birth or of toil.

The sighs and groans which spring from both he spurns,

For life or death 'tis gold the balance turns.

O! Pride and Avarice of deluded fools,

Despotic maxims taught in foreign schools!

Where still the science of a slave is taught,

To check the growth of every generous thought;

Where one proud mortal owns the subjects breath,

Whispers are treason, and a word is death.

Tenets like these to polish'd France belong,

For all she licenses, is dance and song!

The hands are fetter'd tho' the feet are free,

And clos'd the lips in dread of tyranny:

The poor, proud subject, still is idly gay,

Skips off his thoughts, and hums his cares away;

As the cag'd bird tho' pris'ner till it die,

Will sometimes sing altho' it may not fly.

Thy tree, O LIBERTY! forbid to taste,

A Frenchman's richest genius runs to waste:

Oft are the seeds of freedom in his soul,

But none can spring amid such hard controul:

In life's fresh morn if chance they dare to shoot,

The bud scarce peeps e'er Power destroys the root:

Nothing can prosper in a slavish soil,

Save stinted shrubs unworthy of the toil,

Like pallid sweets of ineffectual May,

That faintly bloom and wither in a day.

Not so the plants which LIBERTY bestows,

That in our Albion's favor'd garden grows;

There lifts the oak its top into the skies,

While with glad heart the Briton sees it rise,

Uninjur'd there, for ages shall it stand,

Nor ever quit it but to guard the land:

Then on the deep in gallant pomp it moves,

To serve that freedom which its country loves.

Oh! ever sail, fair Bark, upon thy waves,

Still guard thy England, from a realm of slaves:

Oh! ever flow, fair Sea, to guide our coast,

Still to divide us from yon abject host;

And swell ye Cliffs that canopy our strand,

To frown indignant on that servile land;

That land of mutes, of one proud Lord the prey,

A clime where to be dumb is to obey,

Unheard, unseen, where wretches meet their dooms,

For whom no tear must ever bathe their tombs,

Conceal'd the parent's pangs, the lover's sighs,

Bastiles for ever frown before their eyes;

Like those they mourn down precipices thrown,

Are all that dare the ties of nature own;

Buried alive, from youth to age they lie,

And ev'n, at last, in agonies they die.

Oh! hail'd by men and angels, be the hour,

Which clipp'd ev'n Britons wing, outstretch'd for power!

Which taught the monarch where his rights should end,

And to what point the subjects should extend:

Bade the encroacher know his proper sphere,

Or for each wrong the meanest subject fear.

Once Kings controul'd the law, in infant times,

Plunder'd at will, nor answer'd for their crimes,

Our juster system snaps the tyrant's chains,

Curbs his proud nature, and his rage restrains.

Mark by what gradual steps Britannia rose,

As the small acorn to a forest grows;

By what variety of adverse fate,

Terrors of war, and anarchies of state,

What direful griefs by foreign fury bred,

Rivers of blood, and mountains of the dead:

She, past advent'rous, e're her wrongs were o'er,

Complete her triumphs, and confirm'd her pow'r.

When, but to look, was treason to the state,

And the King's nod, like thund'ring Jove's, was fate;

Not now, as in our scribbling James's days,

Plain truth is tortur'd in the statesman's maze;

Then 'twas that thus the royal nonsense run,

Our word is law, who murmurs is undone.

Behold the painted natives of the isle,

Rough as the coast, uncultur'd as the soil;

Half-naked and half-cover'd see them go,

For sport or war accouter'd with the bow,

The plumy helmet nodding on the head,

And the loose skin across the shoulders spread,

A rude SOCIETY without a plan,

Above the brute, yet scarce arriv'd at man;

But even here was felt the patriot flame,

And from these sparks our noon-tide radiance came;

To guard the huts that stretch along the strand,

Arm'd with the scythe and wicker shield they stand,

The chariot mount, or leap upon the ground,

And shout victorious to the trumpet's sound.

Chains, wounds, and death, the hardy chiefs defy,

For Britain conquer, or for Britain die;

The brave CARACTACUS his squadrons brought,

And with inferior force undaunted fought:

Tho' rude the race, and savage tho' the scene,

Freedom call'd forth Iceni's warlike queen,

A martial band great BOADICIA led,

And ev'n a woman for her country bled.

Revenge and liberty inspir'd the fair,

And poison sav'd her in the last despair;

This, from ignoble bondage, set her free,

And all the shame of ROMAN slavery.

Thus, in the earliest hour of Britains morn,

A Briton's haste of tyrrany was born!

Abhorrence sacred, to repel the hand,

That dares to wrong the charter of the land:

Our sturdy ancestors, tho' oft subdu'd,

But breath'd from war, and strait the charge renew'd;

Now dress'd as victims, now as prisoners bound,

The blood of heroes deluging the ground.

In each extreme our brave fore-fathers prove,

Their native courage and their country's love;

Fierce for hereditary claims they fight,

And ev'n till death maintains a Briton's right.

Hence rose our liberties, a common cause

To these, succeed, their best support, the Laws;

Bonds, conflicts, murders, massacres ensu'd,

And many a Saxon, Danish sword embrued

In English blood, and many a monarch's life,

And many a Monk's, submitted to the strife,

Eer Laws were form'd, as now sublime they stand,

The shield, the spear, and buckler of the land:

At length bloom'd forth, diffusing all their charms,

The arts of peace more strong than those of arms;

Barbaric Ignorance resin'd away,

Like mists dispersing at the dawn of day.

The sword hung up, the trumpet heard no more,

The Lyre essay'd its humanizing power,

Religion came with meekness to explode,

The heathen idol and the Saxon God;

In place of Deities with frowns pourtray'd,

Mild Christianity in smiles array'd.

Where stood the clay-built hut, see cities rise,

Where altar's blaz'd with human sacrifice,

Where pagan superstition, horror spread,

And even where Piety misguided led,

In later times, her victims to the flame,

In bloody mem'ry of our Mary's name,

Now see our country share an happier fate,

Discreetly strong and equitably great,

Her power supreme, and yet her reason clear,

In skilful balance, holding hope and fear;

Her force, law-govern'd, knows its proper fence,

Distinct from tyrrany and impotence.

Not fierce to punish, nor so weak to spare

When truth acquires, but justice still her care;

Thus wise and potent, awful and humane,

JUSTICE and LAW, support the guiding rein;

Like kindred powers, each seated at the helm,

They steer that stately bark, the ENGLISH REALM:

And for a moment, should one quit the post,

Like sympathizing twins, the other's lost;

But knit together in connection strong,

This must go right, the other can't go wrong:

Proud through the waves, tho' •oudly roars the gale,

Amid'st the public storm secure they sail;

Unhurt, they bring the vessel to the strand,

Lords of the subject ocean, as the land.

Thus, in our isle, as the proud MUSE shall sing,

In ampler lays, when next she spreads the wing;

Thus, in our isle, her LAWS securely stand,

A guardian fabric of the smiling land;

Prop of HUMANITY, and seen from far,

Bright as the lustre of the morning star.

All hail! thou glory of fair England's throne,

Illustrious Prince, this fabric is thy own!

All hail! thou hero of the Saxon line,

Britannia's LAWs, Britannia's FREEDOM thine!

Rich in the varied powers of head and heart,

In every science skill'd, in every art,

With prudence, valour, thought, with action join'd,

The circling VIRTUES temper'd and combin'd,

The reconcil'd extremes of Good and Great,

Thine, by a kind felicity of fate;

Ardent in war, in gentle peace serene,

Wise in the public, as the private scene;

Coolness to plan, and vigour to pursue,

And born to mould a rugged state anew,

Whose fancy dazzled, yet whose judgment sound,

Bade every virtue know its proper bound.

Whate'er Philosophy has drawn sublime,

Or poet's sung, in all the pride of rhime;

Whatever history of good has giv'n,

The Boast of nature and the smile of Heav'n,

Adorn'd thy youth, and to complete the plan,

And give the perfect model of a man,

Worthy thy mind, Nature bestow'd the grace,

Of princely stature and engaging face,

Then, in the noblest light her work to bring,

In times of trial, stamp'd thee for a King!

Yes, ALFRED, thou, beheld'st with generous pain,

Blood-spotted Fury, and his demons reign.

Scarce shone the crown upon thy princely head,

E'er rapine paus'd, and foul disorder fled;

Oft as th' invaders for the plunder burn'd,

Thou, warriour-sovereign, to the charge return'd,

And when compell'd to quit the regal seat,

Still, like thyself, was sought the soft retreat;

Veild by the shepherd cot and clown's attire,

Still glow'd within thee all the patriot's fire:

Dismiss'd the regal pomp, its train resign'd,

No fate could sink the monarch in thy mind;

The kingly glories there their state maintain'd,

There, their sit mansion, all the Virtues reign'd,

Expiring LIBERTY engag'd thy care,

For her to heav'n still breath'd thy fervent prayer,

Beneath the humblest shed she fill'd thy breast,

The humblest shed, ennobled by the guest,

There, while th' unconscious neat herd toil'd and sung,

The dart was pointed and the bow was strung;

Till, trimm'd for death, they twang'd against the foe,

And sav'd Britannia at one powerful blow;

Like some young lyon chain'd for many a day,

At length let loose, broad Conquest mark'd thy way,

Thou from the Dane th' enchanted standard bore,

And bade fierce Hubba vex the isle no more,

In vain the magic sisters were implor'd,

The charm-bound raven own'd another Lord;

'Twas thine, in new disguises to assail,

Touch the tun'd harp and weave the mazy tale,

Then, while thy country's foes repos'd supine,

Again in arms confess'd they saw thee shine,

As with one soul they dar'd the martial deed,

For at thy side 'twas victory to bleed;

Th' invaders soon a Conqueror allow'd,

And every haughty tribe to ALFRED bow'd!

But, peace restor'd, 'twas thine to pity foes,

The arrow sped, the guardian shield arose,

Broad o'er the vanquish'd multitude they spread

Dead the fierce war, thy enmity was dead;

Now bloom'd the arts of peace, the pow'rs of trade,

And tow'ring Cities, tow'ring Fleets were made,

Neglected Science rear'd again her head,

And Erudition rose as from the dead;

Chear'd by thy touch awak'd, the tuneful Nine,

For royal hands wove wreaths around their shrine,

To arts as arms thy genius led the way,

Together twin'd the olive and the bay,

At once the King, the Bard, the Patriot shone,

The muses laurel flourish'd round the throne!

Of SOCIAL life, thine too, the faultless plan

Foes warm'd to friends, and the heart beat to man,

To fair HUMANITY was struck the lay,

And from the tuneful charm what heart would stray?

'Twas then brown Industry began his lore,

And billow-braving Commerce brought his ore.

But chief THE LAWS, Oh! ALFRED, fir'd thy thought,

For Oh! to those, what hidden truths were brought!

'Twas then ev'n monarchy was happiness,

Power chang'd his nature, Kings began to bless,

As thy own thoughts thou mad'st each Briton free,

Yet mark'd the line 'twixt vice and liberty:

Laws fallen structure touch'd thy kingly soul,

And Phoenix-like from ashes sprang the whole;

From old materials, where the atoms lay,

'Twas thine to call the chaos into day,

'Twas thine, O royal architect! at length,

To give proportion, beauty, softness, strength;

The LAWS OF ALFRED like a temple shone,

All nations bow'd to ALFRED'S equal throne,

Truth, power, and confidence support the base,

Beauty, and love, the superstructure grace,

King, subject, alien, the strong arch sustain,

Friends, kindred, neighbours, worship at the fane;

And, while the whole, connected with each part,

The laws of NATURE bless'd the laws of ART,

Sanction'd their sway, saw all was fair and good,

A THRONE OF PEACE REAR'D IN A REALM OF BLOOD.

END OF THE FIRST BOOK.

Notes

*
Promoters of that glorious Institution the HUMANE SOCIETY.
↵

*
Vide his Bill for the Relief of the Poor.
↵

†
This Lady is Author of a Benevolent Project on the same Subject.
↵

‡
The excellent Translator of ESCHYLUS, EURIPIDES, and now of SOPHOCLES, took an active Part in instituting and regulating an House of Industry in his own County.
↵

*
The lines with inverted commas are from the Triumph of Benevolence, written by the author of this Poem, in honour of Howard.
↵

*
In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies.

POPE.

↵

HUMANITY.
BOOK II.

PROUD of the contrast, with indignant lay,

Once more O Muse, to Gallia bend thy way;

Explore yon Cavern, frowning on the sight,

When one faint lamp sends forth a sickly light!

Through folds of darkness where yon wicket glooms,

Perfidious POWER has scoop'd the living tombs,

Along the filth that oozes from the walls

The slimy snail, with track abhorent crawls,

And oft, augmenting poisons, from the top,

With sullen sound, falls slow the withering drop.

The pestilential toad that squats below

Gathers fresh venom as those poisons flow:

Here, many a fathom down, despotic Rage

Hung human victims in the dreadful cage;

Here the poor Captive, torn from child and wife,

From youth to age, groan'd out detested life;

Nor nature's sun, nor arts supplying blaze,

E're stole one beam of comfort on his days,

Nor human form, nor human hand was nigh,

To sooth the grief that gather'd in his eye,

Save one brief glance of man, as thro' the hole

His daily bread, the silent goaler stole,

No human voice beguil'd the endless night

That cruel shut him from creation's light!

To sooth a mistress wanton Louis gave,

To one who dar'd be just, this lingering grave,

To one who dare a prostitute pourtray,

And bring his honest Satire into day;

How sinks the heart to pace this gloomy round,

How pants the Muse to leave this tyrant ground!

But ere she turn, to Afric, let her fly,

Where slav'ry blooms beneath the fairest sky;

Thee, desolated ASIA, once the blest

In every charm of lavish nature dress'd,

Where favor'd Paradise, heav'n-planted, stood

A scene of wonders rising from the flood,

The holy spot by all the prophets trod,

Seat of the saints, and sojourn of the God,

Where FAITH her Christian temples rear'd around,

And blood of Martyrs sanctified the ground,

Where ev'n REDEMPTION like a Cherub came,

And REVELATION, spread th' enlight'ning flame.

But oh! thou Land, of Heav'n itself belov'd,

What dire events, what changes hast thou prov'd?

How has time alter'd ev'ry charm of youth,

Since first thou heard'st the oracles of truth!

Forgot the Heavenly claims that once were thine,

Forgot the precepts breath'd from lips divine;

Vain all the fathers, all a saviour taught,

And God expell'd for what th' Imposter brought,

A sensual creed by a mock prophet prais'd,

The sacred BIBLE sunk, the KORAN rais'd,

Disgrac'd the truths, which all th' Apostles gave,

Thy Prince a tyrant, and Thyself a slave!

Ah! what avails thy medicinal floods,

Thy citron breezes, and thy palmy woods,

What tho' the Cassia breathes along thy shore,

And trickling manner adds its essenc'd store;

Tho' gums balsamic in thy vallies grow,

And both the India's in thy region glow,

Thine, tho' Olympus, dear from classic fame,

And honour'd Hermon, a more holy name;

Tho' the tall Cedar decks thy fragrant shrine,

And lofty Lebanon himself be thine,

From fair Euphrates ev'n to Jordan's wave,

Tho' thy rich Coast the hallow'd waters lave,

And tho' thy fruits, voluptuously, dispense

A keener relish to th' invited sense,

Tho' on thy flowers a bolder bloom prevail

And send more piercing odour to the gale,

And tho' thy skies, yet salient and serene,

Call fair Hygea to the tempting scene,

All, all these blessings a strong balance find

In one broad curse that seizes on thy kind;

Nor this the pest that oft has thinn'd thy plains,

A plague more fatal in thy Tyrant reigns.

Fierce thro' the East see Despotism run

More fell, more fatal, than the torrid sun,

Frantic before him move a sanguine band,

The ruthless agents of his murd'rous hand;

Skulking behind, in dumb allegiance wait,

Nurs'd up in blood, his various tools of fate,

To torture life, and hideous deaths devise

In varied shapes of cruelty they rise!

Dey, Sultan, Signior, Emperor and King,

Chief, Visier, Cailif, each inferior Thing;

Some do his bidding in the noon of day,

And some at midnight seize upon their prey;

Submission, terror, chastisement, combine,

To sink the abject vassal to the swine,

Reason below degraded instinct falls,

And Man is bound like herds within the stalls,

His spirit dies subdued by hard controul,

The useless body moves without a soul;

No spark of heav'nly fire the mass can warm,

Nor public virtue touch, nor private charm,

But general cowardice, by horror bred

Courage unstrung, and manly honour dead;

For oh! the dart, the gibbet, and the wheel

Are the least terrors that a slave can feel,

Of these the anguish scarce can rage its hour

Ere Death appears in soft relief of power,

Death, a kind refuge in the last despair,

But long a life of slavery who can bear?

LO PERSIA'S tyrant, with unnatural strife

To please a minion robs a child of life,

With savage rage can blind the first-born son,

And partial lift a second to the throne;

When the proud Sopha has consign'd to death

'Tis treason but to beg a parent's breath,

The sentence past, the look that aims to save,

Condemns to equal fate the pitying slave,

Sensual religion aids the tyrants will,

And blood for ever reeks along the steel;

In dire suspence, like Damocles's sword,

By a slight thread hangs life—a tyrant's word,

Imposts and Edict vex the groaning land,

And ev'n the fountain flows but at command.

In dread MOGUL the laws must all be bought

Ere the case opens must a gift be brought,

The greedy Emperor ope's his craving hand,

And Justice, driv'n by Av'rice, quits the land;

Nay, yet more brief, the Turkish powers decide,

For there the Judge condemns th' accus'd untried,

There turns the suit as wills the proud Bashaw,

Who holds the place of destiny and law;

This god of earth, and brother of the Sun

Breaks up the court before the case be known,

Or strikes the head from some officious slave,

Who at the bloody verdict dares be grave.

Yet here the tyrant's self is insecure,

For no succession to the Crown is sure,

A race of strangled kindred pave the way,

And oft the scepter'd slave is made a prey;

O Hapless ASIA, whilst such horror reigns,

What BRITISH MUSE will rest upon thy plains?

Yet should she steer again to AFRIC'S sand

There too she sees Oppression lifts his hand,

Within the tropics fiercer than the blaze,

That fires the earth, with iron rod he sways,

Ev'n from the fertile Nile to Niger's waves,

'Tis but a change of tyrants and of slaves.

O pride enormous! impudence of man!

But let not Britons imitate the plan,

Frame no false systems and then call them wise,

Or make distinctions where no difference lies,

Alas! full oft the European face

Masks a mind darker than the darkest race;

The Negro's heart may be a purer shrine,

For thoughts devout O! haughty White, than thine,

Acceptance find more gracious from its God,

Than the proud master who uplifts the rod,

His prayer to holy KANNO more prevail

To the great SPIRIT whispering in the gale,

His pious vows to QUOJA 'midst the trees

Or high BASSEFO walking in the breeze,

These may more virtue and more truth impart,

Than Christian incense from a savage heart,

And his wild Tambour beat to idol shouts,

To heav'n ascend before the organ's notes;

Say, what the pomps of science or of prayer,

If the poor Indian's fervor glows not there?

In different forms tho' men the God adore,

Shap'd as the brute or painted as the flow'r,

As marble here, and there as feathers seen,

There the birds bone, and here the fishes fin,

Each, as it marks sincerity shall rise,

And welcome find in the recording skies,

Shall more be cherish'd by the powers of Heav'n

Than less true worship where more aids are giv'n,

Than the mock homage of th' enlighten'd train,

For whom a Saviour liv'd and died in vain.

A doctrine this too harsh for human pride,

Resort to facts and be the doctrine try'd,

With faithful hand, cull'd from th' historic page,

Proofs throng to proofs might vanquish Christian rage;

Oh! tyrant WHITE, forget awhile thy gold,

And every virtue in thy BLACK behold,

All that is honour'd, lov'd, or priz'd in thee,

In thy scourg'd Negro blushing shalt thou see.

Lo, as the Muse to Anticosta steers,

Mid'st the wild waves HUMANITY appears!

Escap'd the wreck, although their barks were lost,

Whole crews were dash'd upon a savage coast;

The coast, tho' savage, there the Christians find,

Each God-like feeling in an Indian mind,

For touch'd by cries that pierc'd the piny wood,

The natives sought the margin of the flood,

Then as th' expiring Christians caught their view,

To human grief the generous Indians flew,

The social passion glowing in his face,

Thus spoke a Chieftain of the sable race:

"Haste children haste, behold where brothers lie,—

"Rise strangers rise, the hand of help is nigh:

"Men like ourselves throughout the globe command,

"The shelt'ring bosom and the aiding hand,

"All, all are kinsimen of a different hue,

"Our faces vary, but our hearts are true;

"Ye poor white wanderers on our bounty thrown,

"Your griefs are sacred and your wants our own."

This said, he gently to his Cottage led,

Smil'd on his guests and yielded up his bed;

Then watch'd till morn, a guardian at the door

Bless'd and was blessed—could a Christian more?

To trace each VIRTUE thro' the sultry Sands,

Next Negro HONOUR all thy praise demands,

In CUJOE'S generous soul it meets the view,

And darts a glory thro' his tawny hue.

A band of Christian pirates sought the shore,

And many an Indian from their forests bore,

One soe, to CUJOE'S cot was seen to fly,

Pierc'd by a dart, he begg'd in peace to die;

But soon the Tribes pursue, demand their prey,

"Scalp, scalp that wretch, they cry, in open day!

"CUJOE conceals the Man whose blood is ours,

"'Tis not our rage, 'tis justice that devours."

Mean time th' exhausted Christian gasp'd for breath

When Cujoe rose, and stopp'd th' impending death:

"My Friends forbear, the guilty seek and slay,

"Pursue the race that stole our tribes away,

"May Ocean whelm them in the deepest wave,

"The guilty punish, but the blameless save!

"Of Guest and friend, ah! reverence the ties,

"Lo, this sick Christian on my faith relies,

"Here, in the rights of Friendship shall he rest,

"My arm his buckler, and his shield my breast

"This Cot his Citadel, and ere he die

"Here must your hatchets fall, your arrows fly!"

Honour prevail'd, their passions dy'd away,

And safe in CUJOE'S hut the Christian lay.

Next let us speed to yonder sainted plains,

By mountains screen'd and crown'd with dulcet canes,

Where the mad Ouragan in phrenzy roars,

Affrights the Isle, and desolates the shores,

While many a rill and flow'ry vale between,

Smile in the storm and reconcile the scene:

See, there an Hero of the Negro line,

Boasts an high FEELING, Briton, proud as thine.

The faithful QUA-SHI with his master bred

The same their mansion and the same their bed,

Together us'd in infant times to play,

Their friendship strengthen'd in life's riper day;

The slave was trusty and the lord was kind,

To QUA-SHI'S care the property assign'd,

His labours clos'd, he took the transient rest,

Then chid the Sun yet loit'ring in the East;

Ere peep'd the dawn his daily toils he sought,

And daily wealth to his lov'd lord he brought.

Envy at length a poison'd arrow drew,

Which wing'd with mischief to the master flew,

Of dire neglect the accusation came,

And lo, the sentence past for QUA-SHI'S shame,

A public punishment was now decree'd,

And the next Morn was QUA-SHI doom'd to bleed:

The injur'd Slave with shudd'ring horror heard,

And at deep midnight sought his barbarous Lord,

Then wrought to agony, these words address'd,

The poignard trembling at his Master's breast.

"O Thou, whom no rememberance can move,

"Nor cradled tenderness, nor boyish love,

"Dare not to think that QUA-SHI'S soul will bear

"The public Insults which thy hands prepare,

"Think not the bloody Morn these eyes shall view,

"Nor think for pardon that these lips shall sue,

"No Monster, no, my soul's above my fate,

"Scorns thy proud mercy as it braves thy hate;

"Thus Tyrant, thus, thy fury I defy,

"Live Thou to Shame, while I in honour die."

He spoke—the Poignard sluic'd the crimson flood,

And bath'd the Master in the Servant's blood.

If thou would'st Negro TENDERNESS behold,

Seek with the Muse the coast where broods the gold,

A [*] Briton there—immortal be his name,

By pity's Angel mark'd with endless fame!

A Briton there, an Indian Infant found,

For savage rites by superstition bound,

The Negro King amidst the croud he sought,

And at the Sacrifice the victim bought,

Then to the Ship his trembling Charge convey'd,

While all the sable train with awe survey'd;

But scarce the Babe was plac'd upon the deck,

Than loud was heard a female's piercing shriek,

"'Tis he! 'tis he! it is the babe I bore,

"Whom savage Acqua from this bosom tore,

"Ah! come my own—resume thy couch of rest,

"And cling once more to this maternal breast,

"Blest be the hand, by EGHO form'd to save,

"Thrice blest the Hand that led me here a slave,

"Blest be the Author of these transports wild,

"And blest the hand which has restor'd my Child!"

She could no more, but still the speaking eye,

Own'd the rich gift of sweet HUMANITY!

But when she heard her infant had been bought,

Ev'n as the flame its tender limbs had caught,

"O Indian God, Oh! God-like White, she said,

While o'er her sable cheek the crimson spread,

"All that a parent, all a slave can give,

"O God-like White, O Indian God receive!"

Kneeling she wept, then kiss'd her rescu'd Child,

While in her jetty arms the Infant smil'd;

Dances and Songs of Praise now struck the waves,

And one strong charm like magic touch'd the slaves,

Thro' the long voyage obedient they remain,

Nor sounding whip was heard, nor clanking chain.

Touch'd is thy heart, O Merchant of thy kind,

Does human Softness steal into thy mind?

Rous'd is the spark, too long repress'd by Gold?

Then bend thy heart to what we next unfold:

Now, while perchance the human passions move,

O view the force of Friendship and of Love,

In Negro bosoms see those powers at strife,

Which form the bliss and agony of life.

ZEBRON and ZABOR of the jetty race,

Were first in feature and proportion'd grace,

Bright as the Antelope their radiant eyes,

As the proud Palm-tree tower'd their equal size,

Both wore alike the Tyger's speckled spoil,

Brothers in dress, in pastime and in toil;

Slaves tho' they were, ev'n Slav'ry had its charms,

For ZEBRON'S comfort was in ZABOR'S arms,

And ZABOR fainting on the arid sand,

Was rear'd to Joy by gentle ZEBRON'S hand,

By bliss united much, by sorrow more,

A Negro's Fate they soften'd while they bore;

But Love, at last, a keener pang imparts,

For sable ZELIA triumph'd o'er their hearts;

Her skin of Ebony bestow'd a grace,

That far outshone an alabaster face,

So thought the youths, with equal truth inspir'd,

With all their passion, all their climate fir'd;

Each scorn'd to ravish, each refus'd to yield,

And Love and Friendship both maintain'd the field,

Devouring torments spread the mutual flame,

But still their friendship, still their love the same;

When beauteous ZELIA in their view appears,

ZEBRON and ZABOR melt in mutul tears,

Oft, both embracing, to renounce her swear,

And Friendship seems to link them in despair;

At length their conflicts, big with every grief,

And ev'ry passion, sought a dire relief.

At close of day as ZELIA trac'd the wood,

The Lovers follow'd and before her stood,

The wand'ring Maid too fatal in her charms,

Now snatch'd to ZEBRON'S now to ZABOR'S arms;

The fondest vows that ever Lovers swore,

The deepest groans that ever heav'd they pour,

Then, with clos'd eyes, and heads declin'd, they dart,

The mutual daggers in her bounding heart;

Speechless she fell, her sobs their shrieks confound,

They clasp the victim, and they kiss the wound,

Then raise the poignards streaming in her blood,

And with their own augment the crimson flood.

Thus Negro Virtues, Negro Frailties shine,

Say, fairer Savage, do they yield to thine!

Their ardent virtues emulate thy own,

Their errors are the errors of their zone;

Art thou then still Supreme of human race,

Still boasts thy Nature the superiour grace,

Ah no! without thy cultivating arts,

Worth, greatness, goodness, elevates their hearts,

The tow'ring spirit in their bosoms move,

They hate with vigour, as with force they love,

Together leagu'd, till death they faithful toil,

And smooth the wrong that chains them to the soil;

Still hand in hand their direful loads they bear,

Divide each joy and mitigate despair:

Vivid as Thine the sense of joy and pain,

Thrills in each pulse, and vibrates in each vein;

When hope inspires, behold, as bright a ray,

Illumes their eyes and o'er their features play;

When grief assails, the tears as copious flow,

To mark the soft or agonizing woe;

When the lash scourges or the pincers rend,

A shriek as piercing from the heart they send;

Ere the brave spirit of the man is broke,

Ev'n with a Briton's scorn they spurn the yoke,

Love of their native Land, that magic charm,

Against an host hath made an handful arm,

They love like Thee the soil that gave them birth,

And treasure up each particle of earth

Fondly embosom'd ere they leave the shore,

And kiss the sacred relique o'er and o'er.

Muscians, Poets, too, by nature taught,

A song spontaneous bursting from a thought,

Swift into measure subjects seem to fly,

As transient objects transient themes supply,

Nature to harmony attunes the ear,

And her nice touches o'er their limbs appear,

Each nerve extatic springs to the rebound,

And every motion seems to paint a sound;

The sweet enthusiasm ev'ry grief beguiles,

And the scourg'd Captive even in anguish smiles,

With thrilling passion ev'ry feature glows,

So strong the charm it cheats awhile their woes.

Their Woes, how countless—ah! ill-fated race,

How shall I paint thy anguish and disgrace,

Ah! think not, WHITE, the Muse from fancy brings

Those woes, which Hist'ry sanctions what she sings,

Her bloody Annals still does Truth unfold,

Stain'd with the victims of soul-spotting gold.

Yet, who the Negro's sufferings can relate,

Or mark the varied horrors of their fate;

Where, blushing Truth! shall we their griefs begin,

Or how commence the catalogue of Sin?

Demons of torture! ye who mock at woe,

And smile to see the crimson blood-track flow,

In horrid triumph rise from central Hell,

Th' inventive pangs of Christian growth to tell,

Oh! aid the shuddering Muse to paint the grief,

Which calls on death for pity and relief;

Oh! powers of Mercy, loose that massy yoke,

Oh! hold that Arm, for murder's in the stroke!

Behold that axe the quivering limb assails,

Behold that body weltering in its wails!

Ah! hear that Bludgeon fall, that lash resound,

Ah! see those wretches writhing on the ground!

See yonder mangled mass of Atoms lie,

Behold that Christian's hands the flames apply,

At the bare feet is laid the sulphurous train,

Climbs to the heart and burns into the brain,

Survey the triple horrors of their state,

Doom'd in each change to be the sport of fate,

Torn from their native land at first they come,

And then are thrown into the sailing tomb,

In wat'ry dens like coupled beasts they lie,

And beg the mournful privilege to die;

Than Man, more kind, but Death oft brings relief,

Releases one, while one survives to grief;

The living wretch his dead associate sees,

The body clasps and drinks the putrid breeze,

Chain'd to the noxious corpse till rudely thrown,

In the vex'd sea, then left a slave alone.

Ah! wretch forlorn! thy lot the most severe,

Assassination would be mercy here!

Methinks I hear thee cry, "Ah! give me death,

"Give the last blow and stop this hated breath,

"To arm this hand were holy innocence,

"I call on suicide as self defence,

"Oh! for a sword to waft me to the shore,

"Where never Christian White may torture more,

"Curse, curse me not with Being, instant throw

"This loathsome body to the waves below!"

His prayer deny'd, condemn'd 'midst slaves to groan,

The cruel Merchant marks him for his own,

The scar by Christian cruelty imprest,

Smoaks on his arm, or blackens on his breast,

The wattled oziers form his rugged bed,

And daily anguish earns his daily bread;

Short food, and shorter rest, and endless toil,

Above the scourge, below the burning soil.

Soon with his sable Brothers must he go,

"Doom'd to a sad variety of woe,"

Like harness'd Mules o'er Afric's dreadful sand,

In slow progression moves the mournful band,

The length'ning files begin their circuit wide,

While on their limbs are galling braces ty'd;

Fraught with coarse viands, see the straining throng,

Drag the oppressive caravan along,

The massy iron and the direful log,

Their naked bodies ev'n in slumber clog,

An iron collar o'er each neck is past,

And iron rivets hold the collar fast;

A tighten'd chain across each shoulder goes,

While the dark driver takes his own repose;

At length arriv'd, the miserable band

Like the stall'd oxen pass from hand to hand.

Ye friends of Man! whose souls with mercy glow,

Swell not your bosoms with this weight of woe?

Fires not the social blood within your veins,

To make the White Man feel the Negro's pains?

Beat not your hearts the miscreant arms to bind,

Of the proud Christian with a savage mind?

Dost thou not pant to snap the impious chain,

And rush to succour the insulted train?

From servile bondage, to free the hapless race,

And fix the haughty tyrants in their place?

Make them the weight of Slav'ry to know,

Till their hard natures melt at social woe,

Nor till they humanize to social men,

Would ye restore them to their rights again!

But Heav'n is just, each tyrant in his turn

Is taught the rashness of his pride to mourn,

Oft spreads his tortur'd Slave the secret snare,

And hurls his Master in the last despair,

Far from his couch the balmy slumber flies,

And from his slave unnumber'd poisons rise,

He knows to pest the herd, to blast the soil,

Perish the blossom, and the harvest spoil;

To mix the baneful juice, the fatal flower,

This sudden kills, that boasts a mining power,

He knows to scatter unsuspected fate,

While circling mischiefs on his vengeance wait,

At length he makes the Tyrant's self his prey,

And rushes on him in the face of day,

Or desperate, seizes on the child and wife,

Mad with his wrongs, and takes their forfeit life,

That thus the White man's progeny may groan,

The Tyrant's lot to balance with his own;

Oft from the cradle and the breast will tear,

Ev'n his own babes in phrenzy of despair,

With mingled rage and fondness stop their breath,

And give them freedom in the arms of death.

Oh! FREEDOM, sacred Goodess! who inspires

Th' untutor'd Savage with sublimest fires,

He, tho' untutor'd, rushes to the fray,

Combats for passion, and ne'er fights for pay,

While the bought soldier bargains for his breath,

A mercenary in the trade of death,

The generous Indian from his fetters broke,

Braves ev'ry peril to escape the yoke,

Freedom's worst wants prefers to Slavery's food,

And feeds from principle on Christian blood;

Oft have the Chiefs o'er listed troops prevail'd,

And Nature's warriours sped where armies fail'd;

The difference mark t'wixt those who sight for hire,

And those whom Freedom's genuine passions sire,

Nay more, when victors in the hardy sight,

Restor'd by Conquest to then native right,

Their wrongs are buried when the battle's o'er,

And so mer injuries are heard no more:

Yet taught distrust, ere they consent again,

With try'd deceivers Commerce to sustain,

Th' appointed Leader of the sable band,

Requires a pledge ere he extends the hand,

The blood must flow from either warriours arm,

And Earth and Water blend to form the charm;

A Vase receives the mixture—who disdains

To taste the potion no alliance gains,

Both parties drink in sign of mutual trust,

And the proud tyrant's humbled to the dust,

A stipulation vile is forc'd to crave,

And own, perforce, a Master in the Slave.

What will not FREEDOM'S Heav'n-descended fire,

In cultur'd, or in savage Souls inspire?

The RIGHTS OF NATURE and of GOD to save,

Men scoop the rock and build upon the wave,

Explore the barren sand, the marshes drear,

And a free Cottage in the desert rear,

Delight in hollow of some cave to dwell,

Or dig thro' Earth the independent cell.

See where MARINO lifts her craggy brow,

Half hid in clouds, and cover'd half with snow,

Beyond the Appenines, there Freedom reigns,

And scorns the thraldom of Italian plains;

There see untax'd the small republic grow,

And spurn the bondage of the vales below,

Close on the liberal Heav'n behold it stands,

And proud looks down on tributary lands,

What, tho' those tributary lands display

The blooming fragrance of perpetual May,

Like the coy sensitive each lovely flower,

Still seems to tremble at the touch of power.

Blest be the good Dalmatian's generous earth,

Which boasts, Oh! Rome, than thine a nobler birth,

Thou but the refuge of a robber band,

But there devotion rais'd the folded hand,

And many a century this little state

Has stood the storms of Fortune and of Fate,

Whilst thy sunk cities once the boast of Fame,

Have nought to mark them but an empty name:

What tho' no streams here lave the scant domain

But melting snows and reservoirs of rain;

Tho' hillocks scatter'd round the parent hill,

At once thy pride and penu'ry reveal,

A narrow circuit, and a labour'd soil

Which yields subsistance but to endless toil,

Dear is the grain that decks thy Mountains side,

Beyond the harvest of Italia's pride.

In this small spot is seen one path alone,

Where jealous freedom guides us to the town,

There, entering, arts and arms and trade we view,

For ev'ry Citizen's a soldier too;

There laws are form'd on patriot Wisdom's plan,

For ev'ry Citizen's an honest Man;

There mines no Tyrant, there no Courtiers flock,

All good is common, all is public stock,

For general happiness there all combine,

The one great aim, and all to aid it join.

Oh! sainted founder of this virtuous land,

Sublimely rais'd, I see thy slatue stand,

Ev'n where the Virgin consecrates the place,

It fills with holy zeal thy generous race,

With free-born men thy Mount is cover'd o'er,

While lost CAMPANIA glooms a desert shore.

Say, what but FREEDOM chear'd the Savage bands,

That once o'erspread CANADIA's conquer'd lands?

Wild as their woods behold uncheck'd they go,

For sport or food arm'd simply with the bow,

Save the thin Buffalo o'er their shoulders crost,

Their hardy bosoms meet unfenc'd the frost,

The casual chace their banquet and their toil,

They ask'd no bounty from the sullen soil,

If to their prayer to range at large was giv'n,

They thought unbounded liberty was Heav'n;

The gods invok'd, their Sylvan wars to aid,

The stag was slain, the board a captive made,

The female hunters journey'd with the men,

And fearless track'd the monster to his den,

And when at eve the warm pursuit was o'er,

Nor twang'd the bow nor sped the arrow more,

They sprung from light repose ere peep of day,

And thro' the humid desarts took their way;

Of forest growth their pamper'd sloth might view,

Nature's brave Caesars and wise Tullys too,

Active, ferocious, bold, unaw'd, they stood,

Troops of the lake and armies of the wood,

Vers'd in no science, lesson'd in no art,

They breath'd the eloquence that reach'd the heart;

Unknown the classic pomp of pedant schools,

Their Oratory rose o'er colder rules,

It beam'd defiance in the flashing eye,

Storm'd in the shout and melted in the sigh;

In tranquil hours it gave the smile serene,

In public tumult shew'd th'indignant mien,

The vivid tone and vital glance express'd

All the strong passions of the warriour's breast.

When the rude Chief his brave harangue began,

The Savage rose to Hero and to Man,

And when th' invader tore him from the soil,

Dear scene of all his pride, of all his spoil,

No artificial mockery of woe,

Or taught his cheek to change, his tears to flow;

With pious awe he kneel'd to kiss the ground,

And fondly press'd his sorrowing friends around,

"Oh! weeping Brothers! this our place of birth,

"Our fathers Ashes consecrate the earth;

"Should the foe drag us to a foreign shore,

"Those sacred ashes we can guard no more,

"The holy relicts as entomb'd they lay,

"Some wretch unhallow'd may usurp as prey,

"Leave, leave not thus our Sires to Christian rage,

"But ah! with filial wrath the conflict wage."

Thus thro' the globe in Nature's earliest dawn,

For FREEDOM only was the arrow drawn,

The plain rough ancient at his threshold stood,

And held that freedom dearer than his blood;

Whate're the forest or the lakes bestow,

Fruits of his lance, his angle and his bow,

The fur that warms him or the hut that shields,

The scanty harvest which his culture yields,

Earn'd by his strength, was by his strength maintain'd,

He felt his own, what honest labour gain'd,

Part of himself his liberty he thought,

And reason sanctified what nature taught,

Nor force of bribes nor frauds of gold he knew,

For life and liberty the sword he drew;

Corruption was the growth of later times,

When Avarice reconcil'd the polish'd crimes,

A gentle modern of the Christian kind

That rose and flourish'd as vice grew refin'd,

An European, which in search of grain,

Taught free-born men to bear and hug the chain.

See FREEDOM smiling thro' the realms of frost,

And glow on Labradore's inclement coast,

Tho' darkness sheds deep night thro' half the year,

And snow invests the clime,—that clime is dear,

For there fair LIBERTY resides, and there

At large the native breasts the searching air,

Where blows the arctic tempests icy gale,

And famine seizes on the spermy whale,

The bearded Esquimaux half robb'd of sight,

Roves uncontroul'd content with FREEDOM'S light,

His country loves, to all its ills conforms,

Endures its caverns and accepts its storms;

For the huge Sea-dog spreads the nimble oar,

Nor sighs for blessings of a softer shore,

No languid Suns unnerve his hardy race,

Which bless'd with Freedom range from place to place.

Such too, BRITANNIA, were THY savage Sons,

Thro' all thy tribes the dread of Slav'ry runs,

Th' mild heroic, honest without laws,

They brav'd each peril in fair Freedom's cause.

But ah! full many an age in Gothic night,

Was veil'd th' effulgence of their native right;

Tho' like the rocky Barrier of their coast,

That Freedom now is her sublimest boast,

Full many an age dissension shook her Fane,

From Rome's fierce Caesar to the stormy Dane.

In whelming tides pour'd in the Saxon clan,

And Normans finish'd what their rage began;

The savage Briton to his Mountains fled,

Alternate triumph'd and alternate bled;

War upon wars, on conquest conquests throng,

Vandal drove Goth, and Goth urg'd Gaul along;

On human flesh the savage Victors eat,

And mistic Druids shar'd the sanguine treat;

These to their altars, e'en while truth they taught,

The trembling sacrifice rapacious brought;

Impostor-priests before their Idols stood,

And talk'd of Heav'n with hands embru'd in blood;

Before their eyes imagin'd spectres glare,

Spirits were heard, and fancy'd ghosts were there,

Religion, Law, and Government their own,

Bloody their Altars, bloody was their Throne;

Thro' the vex'd Isle the sanguine edict spread

That Heav'n demanded mountains of the dead;

In the dark grove which Superstition trod,

Priests hid their spoils, yet commun'd with their God,

And muttering rights within the fearful gloom,

Stab a fresh victim and the feast resume;

Unfelt as yet the soft'ning ties of life,

Deep in the prisoner's breast the ruthless knife

The Female plung'd—could savage man do more!

Then idly prophesied as flow'd the gore;

A rage of slaughter then that sex possess'd,

Now with each grace of melting Pity blest.

But soon the Tyrants sought themselves to save,

For soon Invaders pierc'd the Druid cave;

Forth from the Baltic pour'd the deathful host,

And train'd to havock, crimson'd all the coast,

The Northern Hive swarm'd terrible around,

And every Altar smoak'd upon the ground,

Fire, sword, and carnage, spotted every hand,

Swell'd the gorg'd tomb and delug'd all the land.

Different in mind, and manners, as in face,

The Normans came, an innovating race;

Their power, their passions, and their pride, they brought,

Fierce, bold, and bloody, and with conquest fraught,

From the forc'd mixture of a foreign breed,

Unnatural customs, laws, and wars succeed;

The Saxon superstition, weak as dire,

In two extremes of water and of fire,

The burning ploughshare and the cauldron hot,

To prove the Culprit innocent or not,

Were lenient mercies to the cruel strife,

That then with horror hung a cloud on life,

Then, by no ties of law or nature bound,

Assassination took its deathful round;

In every grove the lurking stabber lay,

And human bloodshed clotted all the way,

In every street the mangled corpse appear'd,

And mutual hate the sanguine standard rear'd;

In slavish homage to an haughty Lord,

All social joy was broken at the board,

From house to house the Tyrant's edict ran,

And the Feast ended ere the Mirth began,

At the eighth hour toll'd out by dread command,

The dreary knell that darken'd all the land;

Wisdom, her lessons could no more impart,

Nor Friendship gladden or improve the heart,

Ere to their bliss the genial hours invite,

Oppression shed impenetrable night,

The friendly faggot chear'd the heart no more,

And all the soft'ning blooms of life were o'er;

To ruin'd Juries the dire sword succeeds,

And at each pore insulted Justice bleeds,

Ev'n rural pastime in that iron age,

No more to jovial sports the youth engage,

The savage beasts, which Nature gave to all,

To glut th' insatiate pride of one must fall;

No more the chace, no more the woods were free,

All, all was Hate,—for all was SLAVERY.

The Lawyer, Clergy too, and Baron proud,

Aping their Prince, struck terror thro' the croud;

Next, bigot Priests, th' imposing mandate bring,

And yoke the Neck of each succeeding King;

Rome sent her Monks, and superstition reign'd,

Freedom in bonds, and even Conscience chain'd;

Impious as vain, the Pope his terrors laid,

Ignorance was awed and folly was afraid;

Fair Truth in fetters was like Reason bound,

And dread Anathema's were peal'd around,

Pomp of procession, and parade of prayer,

Pardon, and curse, dealt mercy or despair:

The heart was tainted, and the head confus'd,

And all the attributes of God abus'd;

People and Prince were in one chaos hurl'd,

Law, Justice, Order, Virtue, left the World!

Eventful BRITAIN! should the Muse display,

The various blood-tracks which then mark'd thy way,

Should she pursue the havoc of the sword,

That gash'd thee first, then crouching, call'd thee Lord,

Or trace the Deluges of Foreign Gore,

That ran in purple torrents thro' thy shore,

As conquest oft her crimson pinion spread,

And different victors different mischiefs bred;

Thy hardiest Sons would tremble but to view,

The fearful picture that her pencil drew:

Then let her pause ere she these deeds rehearse

A subject sacred to her future verse.

Last, and what greater proofs can now remain,

Touch we the border of SURINAM'S plain,

Lo, there the purchas'd NEGROES may'st thou see,

Bursting their bonds and daring to be free,

In daring bands from caves and rocks they come,

And wrought to blood like trooping Panthers roam;

The swart Mulattoes to the forests fly,

Resolv'd to live in freedom, or to die.

Blest be the man and worthy to be blest,

Friend of the Wretched, Guardian of th' oppress'd,

Blest be the Man—ye Negroes bow the knee,

And bless him, Thou, Oh! sweet HUMANITY—

Who, scorning interest, thus pourtray'd the plan,

That gave to Men the awful rights of Man:

"Awake my friends, at mercy's call awake,

"Haste, haste the chains of Slavery to break;

"Oh! Race dishonour'd, whose sad forms we tear,

"Nor heed our species, heed our kindred there,

"Too long on sordid Altars have ye bled,

"From Christian hearts too long has Mercy fled:

"At length return'd, the Goddess brings relief,

"From Heav'n she comes to sooth the Captive's grief;

"My brethren rise, the galling chains unbind,

"And give the generous Model to mankind,

"What Avarice seiz'd let Justice now restore,

"Let Negroes serve, but serve as Slaves no more;

"This the new Law—Let each a shackle rend,

"Till Freedom reigns and Slavery shall end.

"Or if the NAME of Slave must yet remain,

"Strive not for words, so we remove the pain;—

"Strive not for words, so we the rights supply,

"The ravish'd rights of sweet HUMANTIY!"

The good Man spake, applauding thousands bow'd,

The Hero triumph'd, and the Christian glow'd,

Unnumber'd Hearts by great example fir'd

Bent to the Law HUMANITY requir'd

Unnumber'd Manacles that moment broke,

Unnumber'd Slaves were loosen'd from the yoke,

Unnumber'd Hands were folded up in air,

Unnumber'd Voices breath'd a grateful prayer,

Unnumber'd Eyes so lately bath'd in woe,

Ah blissful change! with tears of joy o'erflow:

From God the spark began, to Man it came,

Till all perceiving, all partook the flame

Heav'n's fire electric, as one touch'd the ball,

It struck a second till it spread to all.

Soon generous England, shalt thou catch the flame,

And added Laurels shall adorn thy fame,

Soon shall HUMANITY assert her cause,

Soon shall the Slave find shelter in thy Laws,

Those equal Laws that grace thy pregnant Isle

Where all the Bounties and the Blessings smile,

Where rich and poor, and high and low obey

Their gentle rule and amicable sway,

Where Sovereigns view their lofty roofs ascend,

While LAW and LIBERTY the Throne defend,

Where Subjects see their mansions firmly stand,

Nor fear the Rapine of the strongest Hand,

Where the poor Peasant knows his Cot secure,

Humble in size, but on foundations sure;

Where boldly fenc'd his little Garden grows,

And not a King can rob him of a Rose.

Thus in the crouded Hive, tho' all agree

To choose a Monarch, all the rest are free

Plebeian Cells, as sacred as the great

And both contribute honey to the State.

Oh launch the Bark, unfurl th' impatient Sails,

Swell ye kind Seas, and blow ye fostering Gales,

Oh haste some Angel thro' the realms of air

To Afric's Sons the rapt'rous tidings bear!

Thrice happy he who first shall reach the strand

And spread the joys of Freedom thro' the Land,

His the glad welcome of an Heavenly guest,

His the rich bliss to see "his fellows blest."

And lo! methinks on Fancy's wing convey'd

The MUSE already gains the palmy shade,

Herself the messenger, to Afric's plains

Ardent she flies to break the tyrant-chains,

Her voice already hails the lift'ning croud,

And thus she speaks her Embassy aloud,

"I come, I come from sweet HUMANITY

"To sooth the Sad, and set the Captive free

"Heirs as ye are to all that Nature gave,

"Congenial Nature, who ne'er made a slave,

"Whose Minds can reason, and whose Hearts can move,

"With all the joys and agonies of Love,

"Sublime on Nature's scale ye Beings rise

"Equals on Earth, as equals in the skies

"All, all are Men, in Life and Death the same,

"And Virtue only can distinction claim,

"Where Freedom bids, now take your blithsome way

"Yours the fair morn, and yours the closing day,

"Yours is the jocund eve, its sports command

"Or on the cooling wave or barren sand,

"If in your breasts the Patriot passions burn

"To your lov'd Country, to your Homes return,

"Free, unconfin'd, where'er your course ye bend,

"Still, still shall LIBERTY your steps attend!"

They hear with dumb surprize, till raptures rise,

And these blest sounds re-echo to the skies,

"Negroes are Men, and Men are Slaves no more,

"Fair Freedom reigns, and Tyranny is o'er!"

And now they trace each scene of former love,

Explore each favour'd haunt, hill, vale, and grove,

And soon the well-remember'd huts they find,

Where faithful Friends and Loves were left behind,

Sudden before her sable lord appears,

Th' enfranchis'd wife adorn'd with faithful tears,

Mothers again their kidnapped babes behold,

Sons clasp their Sires in slavery grown old,

Here their own Niger rises to the sight,

And there their Nile's prolific banks invite;

Far as extend these parent floods they range,

Feel all at large and triumph in the change.

Yet mov'd by generous deeds their bosoms burn,

To merit freedom by a kind return,

Methinks I see them leave their native plain,

And touch'd by honour seek their lords again;

Methinks I see them, now no scourge is there,

In willing Tribes to scenes once curs'd repair,

Led on by gratitude they stoop to toil,

Double their industry, and bless the soil,

They quit the whizzing dart and twanging bow,

Collect the grass and reassume the Hoe,

Ev'n troops of sable Children brave the sea,

To kiss the hands which set their fathers free.

Blest expectation! here the MUSE shall pause

And watch, HUMANITY, thy righteous cause,

But soon again shall she the globe survey,

And dare the dangers of her promis'd lay,

While in procession pass the human race,

Shall boldly view each tinge of mind as face,

With curious eye the gradual change shall mark,

As wond'rous Nature shifts from light to dark,

Shall visit tribes beneath the polar skies,

Of shape uncouth, diminutive of size.

Pass to the Tartar of an Olive shade,

Untam'd, untutor'd, and robustly made;

Next move to Asia's dusky-tinctur'd race,

Of foster form, nor destitute of grace;

Then the swarth African and yellow Moor,

Which spread their sable hues along the shore,

Last, wild America's eventful clan,

And European cultur'd into Man.

These to descry the Muse her course shall bend,

Far as discover'd earth and seas extend,

Thro' the wide universe shall vent'rous roam,

Nor till the Globe be measur'd seek her home.

But not content the surface to display,

Hues, habits, manners, customs to pourtray,

Her future song a bolder flight shall try,

And trace the magic powers of clime and sky,

Track Education, and Religion's hand,

And note the law that governs ev'ry land;

Observe, if Elements that cloud with strife,

Or smile in peace, most rule the springs of life;

See how from each, at work upon the mind,

Springs the diversity of Human Kind.

Next varying modes of LIBERTY survey,

From where she thrives to where she melts away,

Now proud to claim the independent soul,

Now her tame Spirit passive to controul,

For ever weak where tyranny assails,

For ever strong where milder rule prevails,

There like vile oxen stooping to the yoke,

Here gaining sudden freedom at a stroke.

Still will she find, compact in ev'ry part,

Is form'd the chain that fastens heart to heart,

Millions of links but all arrang'd are seen,

The rivets clos'd and not a chasm between;

And where they disproportion'd meet our eyes;

Or seem of different form, or different size,

Here, if more polish'd, there more rude they shew,

Or colour'd various as the show'ry bow,

Still one bright zone girds ocean, earth, and sky,

Thy beauteous zone, oh sweet HUMANITY!

Lo, the chain lengthens as the Links are plac'd,

Amid'st the flow'ry dale or barren waste,

Some with the whit'ning Billows froth around,

Some bathe in streams that never pass their bound,

Some redd'ning flame on Aetna's burning brow,

And some are cover'd with Siberian snow,

Some with th' brooding Mine in darkness hide,

And some in dazzling floods of light reside,

Some reach the clouded Regions of the North,

Where tawny Zembla pours her Children forth,

Some where keen Lapland bids the freezing train

Chase the fleet rein-deer o'er the icy plain;

Some stretch to milder climes remote from storms,

Where nature rises in her gentler forms,

Still, still thro' ev'ry clime may we behold

The chain but brightens as the links unfold,

Where'er dispers'd they spread to ev'ry soul,

And God, tis God alone that links the whole.

These shall the Muse with ardent wing explore,

Nor give, at fear's vain threat, th' enquiry o'er.

An awful Task! yet hope the Lyre shall string

And aid the Muse to spread the daring wing.

Ye silken Bards repose in beds of flowers,

And in soft sonnets court the sylvan powers,

Neptune, Diana, Wave, or Wood-nymph woo,

Bid Thrushes sweeter sing, Doves fonder coo,

The lazy Poppy nodding o'er your Brows,

While at your feet the languid water flows

Silent along, as if afraid to creep,

Lest its unguarded lapse should rouse from sleep,

Ah, sweetly slumber, undisturb'd by sense,

Then gently wake to tuneful Indolence,

Crop the pale shrub that e'en in plucking dies,

But leave the plant that blossoms in the skies:

Nor rash, nor diffident, the Muse shall sweep

From Clime to Clime, and dare the giddy steep;

Still to the Sun aspiring, try the height

Cleave the dense air and hope to gain the light.

Mean time to soothe her speeds a generous throng,

To cheer her labour, and assist her song;

These, while she tries the unattempted way,

Shall bid her soar and animate her Lay;

And tho' the fiends who dread the Muse should rise,

With Serpent malice hiss her as she flies,

Full many a laurell'd Bard to Science dear

Compose her Terrors, and her Spirits cheer,

And while she droops beneath the growing Toil,

Her Song approve, and give th' inspiring smile.

Notes

*
Snelgrave.
↵

ERRATA.

Book I.

- Page 40 l. 16 for hands read hand,

- p. 51 l. 6 for haste read hate.

- p. 51 l. 16 for maintains read maintain.

- p. 51 l. 18 a mark of admiration after a common cause!

- p. 53 l. 12 for acquires read requires.

- p. 58 l. 5 a comma after touch, none after awak'd

Book II.

- p. 63 l. 3 for Thee read To desolated Asia.

- p. 67 l. 2 for long life read a long life.

- p. 77 l. 4 for hand read power.

- p. 81 l. 1 for spirit read spirits.

- p. 82 l. 16 read for history instead of which.

- p. 84 l. 7 for Than Man more kind but Death read But Death more kind than Man.

- p. 85 l. 14 for progression read procession.

- p. 86 l. 17 for bondage read bonds.

- p. 91 l. 14 for pen'ry read penury.

- p. 93 l. 17 for their pamper'd sloth read there.

- p. 96 l. 9 for grain read gain.

- p. 99 l. 1 for rights read rites.

Books written by Mr. PRATT.

- SYMPATHY, a Poem, 8th Edition.

- EMMA CORBET, 8th Edition, with Angelica Kauffman's Frontispieces, 2 vol.

- PUPIL OF PLEASURE, 2 vol. New Editions with Vignettes.

- TUTOR OF TRUTH, 2 vol. New Editions with Vignettes.

- LIBERAL OPINIONS, 4 vol. New Editions with Vignettes.

- THE TRIUMPH OF BENEVOLENCE, 3d Edition.

- MISCELLANIES, 4 Volumes.

- LANDSCAPES IN VERSE, 3d Edition.

- FAIR CIRCASIAN, a Tragedy, as acted at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, 3d Edition.

- SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL OF SCRIPTURE, new Edition.

- Any of the above Publications may be had of the respective Booksellers.

Preparing for the Press by the same Author, SOCIETY, OR A PROSPECT OF MANKIND, UNDER ALL THE INFLUENCES OF CUSTOM, COLOUR AND CLIMATE, APOEM, IN FOUR PARTS. DEDICATED TO THE HUMAN SPECIES.

PART the 1st. EUROPE, PART the 2d. ASIA, PART the 3d. AFRICA, PART the 4th. AMERICA.

With Notes Critical and Explanatory, by the Author and his Literary Friends. AND VARIOUS DESIGNS AND ENGRAVINGS, DESCRIPTIVE AND HISTORICAL. BY THE MOST EMINENT MASTERS; PRICE TWELVE SHILLINGS EACH PART.

Information about this book

Title statement

Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem; in two books. By the author of Sympathy

Pratt, Mr. (Samuel Jackson), 1749-1814.

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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4000

ID [isbn10]

1106009991

ID [isbn13]

9781106009999

ID [TCP]

K038048.000

ID [BIBNO]

cw3313771078

ID [ECLL]

0660501400

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Source

— Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem; in two books. By the author of Sympathy, Pratt, Mr. (Samuel Jackson), 1749-1814.. [4],iv,114,[4]p. ; 4⁰. London :: printed for T. Cadell,. 1788.. [The author of Sympathy = S. J. Pratt.] [With a half-title and a final advertisement leaf.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT36737.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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