Faithful to pure affection's proud command,

For a lost child have lasting honours plann'd,

To give in fame what fate denied in years.

The filial form of Icarus was wrought

By his afflicted sire, the sire of art!

And Tullia's fane engross'd her father's heart:

That fane rose only in perturbed thought;

But sweet perfection crowns, as truth begun,

This Christian image of thy happier son."

[Z] It was afterwards published for sale in 1799. I extract from it a jeu d'esprit—one of those pieces which Beattie printed, in opposition to the advice of Sir William Forbes and some other grave friends. 

[Z]

 THE MODERN TIPPLING PHILOSOPHERS. 

Father Hodge[1] had his pipe and his dram,

Father Hodge

And at night, his cloy'd thirst to awaken,

He was served with a rasher of ham,

Which procured him the surname of Bacon.

He has shown that, though logical science

And dry theory oft prove unhandy,

Honest Truth will ne'er set at defiance

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