As Philo heard confus'd the silver sound, His soul emerges from the dark profound; On the bright vision full he turn'd his eyes, Touch'd, as he gaz'd, with pleasure and surprize; The first faint dawnings of a smile appear'd, And now, in act to speak, he strok'd his beard;] When from a shelf just o'er the fair one's head, Down dropp'd Arachne by the viscous thread.Back starts the nymph, with terror and dismay; "The spider! Oh!"—was all that she could say. At this the sage resum❜d the look severe;— "Renounce, with woman's folly, woman's fear!" He said, and careful to the shelf convey'd The hapless rival of the blue ey'd maid.

Th' enormous deed astonish'd Cloe view'd, And rage the crimson on her cheek renew'd. "Must then," said she, "such hideous vermin crawl Indulg'd, protected, o'er the cobweb'd wall? Destroy her quickly-here her life I claim: If not for love or decency, for shame." "Shame be to guilt," replies the man of thought, "To slaves of custom, ne'er by reason taught, Who spare no life that touches not their own, By fear their cruelty restrain'd alone; No blameless insect lives its destin'd hour, Caught in the murd'ring vortex of their pow'r; For me, the virtues of the mind I learn

From sage Arachne, for whose life you burn:
From her, when busy all the summer's day,
She weaves the curious woof that snares her
I learn fair industry and art to prize,
Admiring nature, providently wise;

prey,

Who, though her bounty unexhausted flows,
Not daily bread on idleness bestows :
Arachne, still superior to despair,

Restores with art what accidents impair ;
The thousandth time the broken thread renews,
And one great end with fortitude pursues;

To me her toil is ne'er renew'd in vain,
Taught what the wise by perseverance gain;
Warm'd by example to the glorious strife,
And taught to conquer in the fight of life.
When now with rest amidst her labours crown'd,
She watchful, patient, eyes the circle round,
I learn, when toil has well deserv'd success,
Hope's placid, calm, expectance to possess;
With care to watch, with patience still to wait
The golden moment, though delay'd by fate."
Impatient Cloe thus again reply'd;-
"How soon is error thro' each veil descry'd!
Still boasting reason's pow'r, how weak are we!
How blind, alas! to all we would not see!
Else how could Philo, in a spider's cause,
Talk thus of mercy with deserv'd applause?
Or call aught virtuous industry and skill,
Exerted only to surprise and kill?
The blameless insect, whom no murder feeds,
For her, the victim of her cunning, bleeds;
Cunning! which when to wisdom we compare,
Is but to her, to men what monkies are."

"Hold!” Philo cries," and know, the same decree Gave her the fly, which gives the lamb to thee; Or why those wings adapted to the snare,

Why interceptive hangs the net in air?

As plain in these the precept kill and eat, As in thy skill to carve the living treat." "To this," she cries, "persuade me, if you canMan's lord of all, and all was made for man." "Vain thought; the child of ignorance and pride!" Disdainful smiling quickly he reply'd,

"To man, vain reptile! tell me of what use Are all that Afric's peopl'd wastes produce! The nameless monsters of the swarming seas, The pigmy nations, wafted on the breeze? The happy myriads, by his eyes unseen, That bask in flow'rs and quicken all the green? Why live these numbers blest in nature's state? Why lives this spider object of thy hate? Why man?-but life in common to possess, Wide to diffuse the stream of happiness; Blest stream! th' o'erflowing of the parent mind, Great without pride, and without weakness kind!" With downcast eyes, and sighs, and modest air, Thus in soft sounds reply'd the wily fair : "This fatal subtilty thy books impart To baffle truth, when unsustain'd by art; For this, when Cloe goes at twelve to bed, Till three you sit, in converse with the dead; No wonder then, in vain my skill's employ'd To prove it best that vermin be destroy'd→→ But though you proudly triumph o'er my sex, Joy to confute, and reason but to vex, Yet, if you lov'd me, to oblige your wife, What could you less! you'd take a spider's life. Once to prevent my wishes Philo flew ;But time, that alters all, has alter'd you !

Yet still, unchang'd poor Cloe's love remains;
These tears my witness, which your pride disdains;
These tears, at once my witness, and relief."-
Here paus'd the fair, all eloquent in grief.

He, who had often, and alone, o'erturn'd
Witlings, and sophists, when his fury burn'd,
Now yields to love the fortress of his soul;—
His eyes
with vengeance on Arachne roll :—
"Curst wretch, thou pois'nous quintessense of ill,
Those precious drops unpunish'd shall thou spill?”
He said ;—and stooping, from his foot he drew,
Black as his purpose, what was once a shoe;
Now, high in air the fatal heel ascends ;
Reason's last effort now the stroke suspends;
In doubt he stood-when, breath'd from Cloe's breast,
A struggling sigh her inward grief express'd;
Fir'd by the sound,-" die, sorc'ress, die," he cry'd,
And to his arm his utmost strength apply'd :
Crush'd falls the foe, one complicated wound,
Aud the smote shelf returns a jarring sound.
On Ida's top thus Venus erst prevail'd,
When all the sapience of Minerva fail'd :
Thus to like arts a prey, as poets tell,
By Juno lov'd in vain, great Dido fell :-
And thus for ever beauty shall controul
The saint's, the sage's, and the hero's soul.

But Jove with hate beheld th' atrocious deed,
And vengeance follows with tremendous speed;
In Philo's mind he quench'd the ray that fir'd
With love of science, and with verse inspir❜d;
Expung'd at once the philosophic theme,
All sages think, and all that poets dream;

Yields him thus chang'd a vassal to the fair,
And forth she leads him, with a victor's air:
Drest to her wish, he mixes with the gay,
As much a trifler, and as vain as they ;

To fix their power, and rivet fast the chain,

They lead where pleasure spreads her soft domain; Where, drown'd in music reason's hoarser call, Love smiles triumphant in thy groves, Vauxhall !