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 FEARS IN SOLITUDE, 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1.798, DURING THE ALARM OF AN INVASION* 
 To which are added, 
 
 FRANCE, AN ODE; 
 
 AND 
 
 FROST AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 [Price One Shilling and Six -pence.! 
 
 / 
 
FEARS IN SOLITUDE, 
 
 WRITTEN IN 1798, DURING THE ALARM OF AN INVASION. 
 
 To which are added, 
 
 FRANCE, AN ODE; 
 
 AND 
 
 FROST AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 By S. T. COLERIDGE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed for J. Johnson, in St. Paul's Church-yard» 
 
 1798. 
 
.:39W*ii«- 
 
 :oa>in 
 

 FEARS IN SOLITUDE. 
 
 • - * rr - 
 
 i ;' ■ " t ^ ■ ■ ' 
 
 WRITTEN, APRIL 1 798, DURING THE ALARMS OF AN INVASION. 
 
 A GREEN ai^'iili^t^Prf^ia^ Mfl^l ^ 
 
 A fm^ll and filent dell!— O'er -ftiller place 
 
 No linging fky-lark ever pois'd himfelf ! 
 
 The hills are heathy,- faye that fwelling flope, =^ ^^^'^ 
 
 Which hath a gay arid gorgeous cbveririg on, ' ' 
 
 All golden with the never-bloOihlefs furze. 
 
 Which now blooms moft prdfufely; but the dell, 
 
 Bath'd by the mift, is frefh and delicate, 
 
 As vernal corn field, ot the unripe flax. 
 
 When tiird' its 'Half- tranfparent ftalksj at eve, 
 
 The level funfhine glimmers with green light. 
 
 O 'tis a quiet fpirit-healirig nook/' ^ 
 
 
 
 263860 
 
( 2 ) 
 
 Which all, methinks, would love ; but chiefly he. 
 The humble man, who in his youthful years 
 Knew jiift fo mtich of folly ak held made 
 His early manhood more fecurely wife : 
 Here he might lie on fern or wither'd heath. 
 While from the linging lark (that fings unfecn 
 The minftrelfy which folitude loves beft) 
 And from the fun, and from the breezy air. 
 Sweet influences trembled o'er his frame ; 
 And he with many feejir^s, many thoughts. 
 Made up a meditative joy, an4 ibund , 
 Religious meanings in the forms of nature I 
 And fo, his fenfes gradually wrapp'd 
 In a half-IIeep, he dreams of better worlds, 
 And dreaming hears theCj ftill, O liriging lark! 
 That rfingeft like: an angel in the clouds. . 
 
 My God ! it is a melancholy thing 
 
 For fuch a man, who would full fain preferve 
 
 His foul in calmnefs, yet perforce muft feel 
 
 For all his human brethren — Q my God, 
 
 It is indeed a melancholy thing, 
 6 
 
And weighs upon the heart, that he mufl: think 
 
 What uproar and what ftrife may now be ftirring 
 
 This way or th^.t Vijay o'er thefe filent hills — 
 
 Invafion, and the thunder and the fhout, 
 
 And all the crafli of onfet ; fear and rage 
 
 And undetermined conflift — even now, 
 
 Ev'h ,now, perchance, and in his ifiative Ifle, 
 
 Carri?ige and fcreams beneath. t;hisblefled fun! 
 
 We havjC offended, O my countrymen ! 
 
 We have pffended very grievoufly, 
 
 And have been tyrannous. From eail to weft 
 
 A groan of aceufation pierces J^e^y^n! 
 
 The wretched plead againft us, multitudes 
 
 Countlefs ;and v^he^^ent, the fons of God, 
 
 Our brethren ! like a clpud that travels on, 
 
 Steam'd^juprfrom^ (^airq's. fvyamps of, peftil^nce, 
 
 Ev'n fo, my countrymen I ,f}a,y,ej we goiTie,fort^ 
 
 And borne to diftant tribes flavery and pangs, 
 
 Anid, deadlier far, our vices, .whpfe deep taint 
 
 With flow perditioa murders the whole man. 
 
 His body and -Ijiisfcpiul J Meanwhile, athpmp, 
 
 Wfvbave been, 4ri^k,ing. with^a riotQ^us thirft 
 
 B 2 ' ' -■ ' 
 
 263860 
 
Pollutions from th^ brimming cup-of wealth^' '"^v/ bn A 
 A fellifh, lewd/effemiTiatied race;' ■ 
 Contemptuddi'or ail honourable 'rule, ' > {sv/,.l 
 Yet bartering freedom, and the poor man's' \[f€i^ii':il 
 For gold, as at a market ! The fweet words -'nA 
 
 Of chriftian prornife,' words thsit' even yet - '/ brrA 
 Might flem defl:ru6iidli, were they' Wifely 4) reach'd,'' 
 Are mutter'd O'er by nien, whofe" tones proclaim^ ^ 
 How flat and weafifo me they feel their' traddV^^'i 
 Rank fcoffers fom6, biitmoS too indofent, jvbH 'SfT 
 To deem them falfehoods, <ir ib'Mffw their truth. 
 O blafphemous' ! ' the book of 'Jife -is made 
 A fuperftitious inftrumerit,' <>n;;#hitrh 
 We gabble' o'er the oaths we rrieati to break, Uiuo'J 
 For all muft fwear — all, and in every place, fO 
 
 College' and wharf, council and juftifcePeburt,' 
 All, all muft fwear, the briber and thfe'brib'd,' 
 Merchant and lawyer, fenator and prieft, ■ unA 
 
 The rich, the poor, the old man, and the young. 
 All, all make up one fcheme of perjury, . "^ rf?r// 
 That faith doth reel ; the very name of God 
 Sounds like a juggler's charm ; and bold with joy, 
 
( 5 ) 
 
 Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place 
 (Portentous fight) the owlet, Atheism, 
 Sailing on obfcene wings athwart the noon, 
 Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them clofe, 
 And, hooting at the glorious fun in heaven, 
 Cries out, " where is it ?" 
 
 Thanklefs too for peace, 
 (Peace long ppeferv'd by fleets and perilous feas) 
 Secure from a6lual warfare, we have lov'd 
 To fwell the war-whoop, paffionate for war ! 
 Alas ! for acres ignorant of all 
 It's ghaftlier workings (famine or blue plague, 
 Battle, or fiege, or flight thro' wintry fnows) 
 We, this whole people, have been clamorous 
 For war^^nd bloodfhed, animating fports. 
 The which we pay for, as a thing to talk of. 
 Spectators and not combatants ! no guefs 
 Anticipative of a wrong unfelt, 
 No fpeculation on contingency, 
 However dim and vague, too vague and dim 
 To yield a juftifying caufe: and forth 
 (StufTd out with big preamble, holy names. 
 
( 6 ) 
 
 And adjurations of the God in heaven) 
 We fend our mandates for the certain death 
 Of thoufands and ten thoufands I Boys and girls. 
 And women that would groan to fee a child 
 Pull off an infe6l's leg, all read of war. 
 The beft amufcment for our morning meal 1 
 The poor wretch, who has learnt his only prayers 
 From curfes, who knows fcarcely words enough 
 To afk a blefling of his heavenly Father, 
 
 Becomes a fluent phrafeman, abfolute 
 
 • .... 
 
 And technical in vi6lories and defeats, 
 
 And all our dainty terms for fratricid<^ 
 
 Terms which wp trundle fraoothlyfp'fa'our tongues 
 
 Like mere abftra£lions, empty foun<is to which 
 
 We join no feeling and attach no form, 
 
 As if the foldier died without a wound ; 
 
 As if the fibres of this godlike frame 
 
 Were gor'd without a pang: as if the wretch. 
 
 Who fell in battle doing bloody deeds, 
 
 Pafs'd off to heaven, tmnjlated and not kill'd ; 
 
 As tho' he had no wife to pine for him. 
 
 No God to; pdge him 1 — Therefore evil days 
 
( 1 ) 
 
 Are coming on us, O my countrymen ! 
 And what if all-avenging Providence, 
 Strong and retributive, fhould make us know 
 The meaning of our wordsj force us to feel 
 The defolation and the agony 
 Of our fierce doings? — 
 
 Spare us yet a while, 
 Father and God ! O fpare us yet a while 1 
 O let not Englifti women drag their flight 
 Fainting beneath the burden of their babes. 
 Of the fweet infants, that but yefterday 
 Laugh'd at the breaft ! Sons, brothers, hufbands, all 
 Who ever gaz'd with fondnefs on the forms. 
 Which grew up with you round the fame fire fide. 
 And all who ever heard the fabbath bells 
 Without the infidel's fcorn, make yourfelves pure ! - 
 Stand forth! be men! repel an impious foe. 
 Impious and falfe, a light yet cruel race, 
 That laugh away all virtue, mingling mirth 
 With deeds of murder ; and ftill promifing 
 Freedom, themfelves too fenfual to be free, 
 Poifon life's amities, and cheat the heart 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 Of Faith and quiet Hope, and all that foothes 
 And all that lifts the fpirit! Stand we forth; 
 Render them back upon th' infulted ocean, 
 And let them tofs as idly on it's waves, 
 As the vile fea- weeds, which fome mountain blall 
 Swept from our fhores ! And O ! may we return 
 Not with a drunken triumph, but with fear. 
 Repenting of the wrongs, with which we ftung 
 So fierce a foe to frenzy ! 
 
 I have told, 
 O Britons ! O my brethren ! I have told 
 Moft bitter truth, but without bitternefs. 
 Nor deem my zeal or faftious or miftim'd ; 
 For never can true courage dwell with them, 
 Who, playing tricks with confcience, dare not look 
 At their own vices. We have been too long 
 Dupes of a deep delufion ! Some, belike. 
 Groaning with reftlefs enmity, expeft 
 All change from change of conftituted power : 
 As if a government had been a robe, 
 On which our vice and wretchednefs were tagg'd 
 Like fancy-points and fringes, with the robe 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 Pull'd off at pleafure. Fondly thefe attach 
 
 A radical caufation to a few 
 
 Poor drudges of chaftifing Providence, 
 
 Who borrow all their hues and qualities 
 
 From our own folly and rank wickednefs, 
 
 Which gave them birth, and nurfe them. Others, 
 
 meanwhile. 
 Dote with a mad idolatry; and all. 
 Who will not fall before their images, 
 And yield them worfhip, they are enemies 
 Ev'n of their country ! — Such have I been deem*d. 
 But, O dear Britain 1 O my mother I fie ! 
 Needs muft thou prove a name moft dear and holy 
 To me, a fon, a brother, and a friend, 
 A hufband and a father! who revere 
 All bonds of natural love, and find them all 
 Within the limits of thy rocky fhores. 
 O native Britain! O my mother Iflc! 
 How fhould'ft thou prove aught elfe but dear and holy 
 To me, who from thy lakes and mountain-hills. 
 Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks, and feas. 
 Have drunk in all my intelleftual life, 
 
 C 
 
All fweet fenfations, all ennobling thoughts. 
 All adoration of the God in nature, 
 All lovely and all honourable things, 
 Whatever makes this mortal fpirit feel 
 The joy and greatnefs of it's future being? 
 There lives nor form nor feeling in my foul 
 Unborrow'd from my country ! O divine 
 And beauteous ifland, thou haft been mv fole 
 And moft magnificent temple, in the v.hich 
 I walk with awe, and ling my ftately fongs. 
 Loving the God that made me !--^ 
 
 May my fears. 
 My filial fears, be vain I and may the vaunts 
 And menace of the vengeful enemy 
 Pafs like the guft, that roar'd and died away 
 In the diftant tree, which heard, and only heard; 
 In this low dell bow'd not the delicate grafs. 
 But now the gentle dew-fall fends abroad 
 The fruitlike perfume of the golden furze : 
 The light has left the fummit of the hill, 
 Tho' ftill a funny gleam lies beautiful 
 On the long-ivied beacon. — Now, farewell, 
 Farewell, awhile, O foft and filent fpot I 
 
( '1 ) 
 
 On the green fheep-firaefc, tup the heathy hill^ 
 
 Homeward I wind my way; and la I recalll'd 
 
 From bodings, that have well nigh wearied me, 
 
 I find myfelf upon the brow, and paufe 
 
 Startled ! And after loneiy fojourning ■ awoie t 
 
 In fuch a quiet and furrounded fcene, 
 
 This burft of profpe6l, here the fliadowy main, 
 
 Dim-tinted, there the mighty majefty 
 
 Of that huge amphitheatre of rich 
 
 And elmy fields, feems like fociety, 
 
 Converfing with the mind, and giving it 
 
 A livelier impulfe, and a dance of thought ; 
 
 And now, beloved Stowey ! I behold 
 
 Thy church-tower, and (methinks) the four huge elms 
 
 Cluft'ring, which mark the manfion of my friend; 
 
 And clofe behind them, hidden from my view. 
 
 Is my own lowly cottage, where my babe 
 
 And my babe's mother dwell in peace I With light 
 
 And quicken'd footfteps thitherward I tend, 
 
 Rememb'ring thee, O green and filent dell ! 
 
 And grateful, that by nature's quietnefs 
 
 '1 
 
 C 2 i 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 And folitary mufings all my heart 
 
 Is foften'd, and made worthy to indulge 
 
 Love, and the thoughts that yearn for human kind. 
 
 Nether Stowey, April 20th, 1798. 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 FRANCE. 
 
 AN ODE. 
 
 L 
 
 Ye Clouds, that far above me float and paufe, 
 
 Whofe pathlefs march no mortal may control ! 
 
 Ye ocean waves, that, wherefoe'er ye roll. 
 
 Yield homage only to eternal laws ! 
 
 Ye woods, that liften to the night-bird's finging, 
 
 Midway the fmooth and perilous fteep reclin'd ; 
 
 Save when your own imperious branches fwinging 
 
 Have made a folemn mulic of the wind ! 
 
 Where, like a man belov'd of God, 
 
 Thro' glooms, which never woodman trod, 
 
 How oft, purfuing fancies holy, 
 
( H ) 
 
 My moonlight way o'er flow'ring weeds I wound, 
 
 Infpir'd beyond the guefs of folly, 
 
 By each rude fhape, and wild unconquerable found ! 
 
 O, ye loud waves, and O, ye forefts high, 
 
 And O, ye clouds, that far above me foar'd ! 
 
 Thou rifmg fun! thou blue rejoicing fky! 
 
 Yea, every thing that is and will be free, 
 
 Bear witnefs for me wherefoe'er ye Jdc, 
 
 With what deep worlhip I have ftill ador'd 
 
 The fpirit of divineft liberty. 
 
 When France in wrath her giant limbs upreiar*'d, 
 And with that oath which finote earth, air, and fea, 
 Stamp'd her ftrong foot and faid, (he would be free. 
 Bear witnefs for me, how I hop'd and fear'd I 
 With what a joy my lofty gratulation 
 Unaw'd I fung amid a flavilh band': 
 And when to whelm the difenchanted nation. 
 Like fiends embattled by a wizard's wand. 
 The monarchs march'd in evil day, 
 And Britain join'd the dire array; 
 
( '5 ) 
 
 Though dear her fhores, and circling ocean, 
 
 Though many fricndlhips, many youthful Ipves 
 
 Had fwoln the patriot ernotion, 
 
 And flung a magic light o'er all her hills and groves; 
 
 Yet ftiU my voice unalter'd fang defeat 
 
 To all that brav'd the tyrant-quelling lance, 
 
 And fhame too long delay'd, and vain retreat ! 
 
 For ne'er, O Liberty! M^ith partial aim 
 
 I dimm'd thy light, or damp'd thy holy flame; 
 
 But bleft the paeans of deliver'd France, 
 
 And hung my head, and wept at Britain's name ! 
 
 m. 
 
 *' And what (I faid) tho' blafphemy's loud fcream 
 " With that fweet mufic of deliv'rance ftrove ; 
 ** Tho' all the fierce and drunken paflions wove 
 '* A dance more wild than ever maniac's dream ; 
 " Ye ftorms, that round the dawning eaft aflembled, 
 " The fun was rifing, tho' ye hid his light!" 
 And when to footh my foul, that hop'd and trembled. 
 The diffonance ceas'd, and all feem'd calm and bright ; 
 
( '6 )) I 
 
 When France, her front deep-fcar'd and gory, 1 
 
 Conceal'd with cluft'ring wreaths of glory; ! 
 When infupportably advancing, 
 
 Her arm made mock'ry of the warrior's ramp, ] 
 
 While, timid looks of fury glancing, I 
 
 Domeftic treafon, crufh'd beneath her fatal ftarap, \ 
 Writh'd, like a wounded dragon in his gore ; 
 Then I reproach'd my fears that would not flee, 
 
 " And foon (I faid) fhall wifdom teach her lore '. 
 
 " In the low huts of them that toil and groan ! ! 
 
 " And conqu'ring by her happinefs alone, ■ 
 
 " Shall France compel the nations to be free, i 
 
 " Till love and joy look round, and call the earth i 
 
 "their own!" i 
 
 IV. ; 
 
 Forgive me, Freedom ! O forgive thefe dreams ! j 
 I hear thy voice, I hear thy loud lament, . j 
 
 From bleak Helvetia's icy caverns fent — ; 
 
 I hear thy groans upon her blood-ftain'd ftreams ! ! 
 Heroes, that for your peaceful country perifli'd ; 
 And ye, that fleeing fpot the mountain fnows 
 
( '7 ) 
 
 With bleeding wounds ; forgive me, that I cherifli'd 
 
 One thought, that ever blefs'd your cruel foes ! ; 
 
 To fcatter rage and trait'rous guilt ' 
 
 Where Peace her jealous home had built ; 
 
 A patriot race to difmherit '\ 
 
 Of all that made their ftormy wilds fo dear, 
 
 And with inexpiable Ipirit ] 
 
 To taint the bloodlefs freedom of the mountaineer.— \ 
 
 O France ! that mockeft heav'n, adult'rous, blind, i 
 
 And patriot only in pernicious toils ! 
 
 Are thefe thy boafts, champion of human kind : ; 
 
 To mix with kings in the low lull of fway, | 
 
 Yell in the hunt, and fliare the murd'rous prey; 
 
 T' infult the fhrine of liberty with fpoils ] 
 
 From freemen torn ; to tempt and to betray! l. 
 
 'i 
 
 V. \ 
 
 The fenfual and the dark rebel in vain. 
 
 Slaves by their own compullion ! In mad game . ] 
 
 They burft their manacles, and wear the name i 
 
 Of freedom graven on a heavier chain ! I 
 
 D ) 
 
{ 18 ) 
 
 O Liberty ! with profitlefs endeavour 
 
 Have I purfued thee many a weary hour: 
 
 But thou nor fweU'ft the vi6lor's ftrain, nor ever 
 
 Didft breathe thy foul in forms of human pow'r. 
 
 Alike from all, howe'er they praife thee, 
 
 (Nor pray'r, nor boaftful name delays thee) 
 
 Alike from priefthood's harpy minions, 
 
 A'nd fa6lious blalphemy's obfcener flaves. 
 
 Thou fpeedeft on thy fubtle pinions. 
 
 To live amid the winds, and move upon the waves ! 
 
 And then I felt thee on that fea-cliff's verge, 
 
 Whofe pines, fcarce traveird by the breeze above. 
 
 Had made one murmur with the diftant furge ! 
 
 Yes ! while I ftood and gaz'd, my temples bare, ^ 
 
 And {hot my being thro' earth, fea, and air, 
 
 Poffefling all things with intenfeft love, 
 
 O Liberty, my fpirit felt thee there ! 
 
 February 1798. 
 
{ 19 ) 
 
 FROST AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 The Froft performs it's fecret miniftry, 
 Unhelp'd by any wind. The owlet's cry 
 Came loud — and hark, again I loud as before^ 
 The inmates of my cottage, all at reft. 
 Have left me to that folitude, which fuits 
 Abftrufer mufmgs : fave that at my fide 
 My cradled infant flumbers peacefully. 
 ♦Tis calm indeed ! fo calm, that it difturbs 
 And vexes meditation with it's ftrange 
 And extreme filentnels. Sea, hill, and wood, 
 This populous village ! Sea, and hill, and wood. 
 With all the numberlefs goings on of life. 
 Inaudible as dreams ! The thin blue flame 
 Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not: 
 
 D 2 
 
( =0 ) 
 
 Only that film,* which flutter'd on the grate, 
 
 Still flutters there, the fole unquiet thing, 
 
 Methinks, it's motion in this hufli of nature 
 
 Gives it dim fympathies with me, who live. 
 
 Making it a companionable form. 
 
 With which I can hold commune. Idle thought ! 
 
 But ftill the living fpirit in our frame. 
 
 That loves not to behold a lifelefs thing, 
 
 Transfufes into all it's own delights 
 
 It's own volition, fometimes with deep faith. 
 
 And fometimes with fantaftic playfulnefs. 
 
 Ah me ! amus'd by no fuch curious toys 
 
 Of the felf-watching fubtilizing mind, 
 
 How often in my early fchool-boy days. 
 
 With moft believing fuperftitious wifh 
 
 Prefageful have I gaz'd upon the bars. 
 
 To watch the Jiranger there ! and oft belike. 
 
 With unclos'd lids, already had I dreamt 
 
 Of my fweet birthplace, and the old church-tower, 
 
 Whofe bells, the poor man's only mufic, rang 
 
 * Only that film. In all parts of the kingdom thefe films are called/«?»^tfnf, 
 and fuppofed to portend the arrival of fome abfent friend. 
 
( " ) 
 
 From morn to evening, all the hot fair-day, 
 So fweetly, that they ftirr'd and haunted me 
 With a wild pleafure, falling on mine ear 
 Moft like articulate founds of things to come I 
 So gaz'd I, till the foothing things, I dreamt, 
 Lull'd me to fleep, and fleep prolong'd my dreams ! 
 And fo I brooded all the following morn, 
 Aw'd by the ftern preceptor's face, mine eye 
 Fix'd with mock ftudy on my fwimming book: 
 Save if the door half-open'd, and 1 fnatch'd 
 A hafty glance, and ftill my heart leapt up. 
 For ftill I hop'd to fee the fir anger's face, 
 Townfman, or aunt, or fifter more belov'd, 
 My play-mate when we both were cloth'd alike ! 
 
 Dear babe, that fleepeft cradled by my fide, 
 Whofe gentle breathings, heard in this dead calm. 
 Fill up the interfperfed vacancies 
 And momentary paufes of the thought I 
 My babe fo beautiful ! it fills my heart 
 With tender gladnefs, thus to look at thee. 
 And think, that thou Ihalt learn far other lore. 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 And in far other fcenes ! For I was rcai^d 
 In the great city, pent mid cloifters dim. 
 And faw nought lovely but the £ky and ftars. 
 But thou, my babe ! Shalt wander, like a breeze, 
 By lakes and fandy fliores, beneath the crags 
 Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds, 
 Which image in their bulk both lakes and fhores 
 And mountain crags : fo fhalt thou fee and hear 
 The lovely fliapes and founds intelligible 
 Of that eternal language, which thy God 
 Utters, who from eternity doth teach 
 Himfelf in all, and all things in himfelf. 
 Great univerfal Teacher ! he fliall mould 
 Thy fpirit, and by giving make it afk. 
 
 Therefore all feafons fliall be fweet to thee, 
 
 Whether the fummer clothe the general earth 
 
 With greennefs, or the redbreafts fit and fing 
 
 Betwixt the tufts of fnow on the bare branch 
 
 Of moify apple-tree, while all the thatch 
 
 Smokes in the fun-thaw : whether the eave-drops fall 
 
 Heard only in the trances of the blaft, 
 6 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 Or whether the fecret miniftery of cold \ 
 
 Shall hang them up in filent icicles. 
 
 Quietly Ihining to the quiet moon, ] 
 
 Like thofe, my babe ! which, ere to-morrow's warmth 
 
 Have capp'd their fliarp keen points with pendulous ^ 
 
 drops, 
 
 Will catch thine eye, and with their novelty \ 
 
 Sufpend thy little foul ;_ . tl\(^ make thee fhout, j 
 
 And ftretch and flutter from thy mother's arms i 
 
 ,1 
 
 As thou would'ft fly for very eagernefs. \ 
 
 February 1798. ' 
 
 THE END. 
 
i Juji publijbedt 
 
 .13 .fi 
 
 New Editions, with Additions not before printed, of 
 
 'or"iC .13 .fi 
 
 P O EM S, 
 
 By W. C O W P E R, 
 
 OF THE INNER TEMPLE, ESQ. 
 
 I. An elegant Edition in a fmall iize, in z vols, price 6s. in boards. 
 
 II. An elegant Edition in 2 vols, with lo plates from Stothard's deiigns, engraved 
 by Heath, Parker, Medland, Neagle, Angus, &c. price i^. in boards, 
 
 III. A cheap Edition in 2 vols, price ^s. fewed. 
 
 Printed for J, Johnson, in St. Paul's Church-yard.