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Will forty shillings warm the breast
Of worth or industry distress'd!
This sum I cheerfully impart ;
'Tis fóurscore pleasures to my

heart :
And you may make, by means like these,
Five talents ten, whene'er you please.
?'Tis true, my little purse grows light
But then I sleep so sweet at night!
This grand specific will prevail,
When all the doctor's opiates fail.

Virtue the best treasure.
Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul,
Is the best gift of Heav'n: a happiness
That, even above the smiles and frowns of fate,
Exalts great nature's favourites : a wealth
That ne'er encumbers ; nor to baser hands
Can be transferr'd. It is the only good
Man justly boasts of, or can call his own.
Riches are oft by guilt and baseness earn'd.
But for one end, one much-neglected use,
Are riches worth our care ; (for nature's wants
Are few, and without opulence supplied ;)
This noble end is to produce the soul ;
To show the virtues in their fairest light ;
And make humanity the minister
Of bounteous Providence.

As yet 'tis midnight deep. The weary clouds,
Slow meeting, mingle into solid gloom.
Now, while the drowsy world lies lost in sleep,
Let me associate with the serious night,
And contemplation her sedate compeer;
Let me shake off th' intrusive cares of day,
And lay the meddling senses all aside.

Where now, ye lying vanities of life!
Ye ever tempting, ever cheating train!
Where are you now ? and what is your amount !
Vexation, disappointment, and remorse.
Sad, sick’ning thought ! And yet, deluded man,
A scene of crude disjointed visions past,

And broken slumbers, rises still resolv'd,
And With new flush'd hopes, to run the giddy rounde

Pleasure of Piety. A Deity believ'd, is joy begun ; A Deity ador'd, is joy advanc'd ; A Deity belov’d, is joy matur'd. Each branch of piety delight inspires : Faith builds a bridge from this world to the next, O’er death's dark gulf, and all its horror hides ; Praise, the sweet exhalation of our joy, That joy exalts, and makes it sweeter still ; Pray'r ardent opens heav'n, lets down a stream Of glory, on the consecrated hour Of man in audience with the Deity.




The bears and the bees.
As two young bears, in wanton mood,
Forth issuing from a neighbouring wood,
Came where th' industrious bees had stor'd,
In artful cells, their luscious hoard ;
O'erjoy'd they seiz'd, with eager haste
Luxurious on the rich repast.
Alarm'd at this, the little crew
About their ears vindictive flew.
The beasts, unable to sustain
Th' unequal combat, quit the plain,
Half-blind with rage, and mad with pain,
Their native shelter they regain ;
There sit, and now,

discreeter grown,
Too late their rashness they bemoan
And this by dear experience gain,
That pleasure's ever bought with pain.
So when the gilded baits of vice
Are plac'd before our longing eyes,
With greedy haste we snatch our fill,
And swallow down the latent ill :
But when experience opes our eyes,
Away the fancied pleasure flies.
It flies, but oh! too late we find,
It leaves a real sting behind.--MERRICK.


The nightingale and the glow-worth

A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheer'd the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite ;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark.
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent-

• Did you admire my lamp,' quoth he, As much as


your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song ;
For 'twas the self-same pow'r divine,
Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.?

The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Releas'd him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

Hence, jarring sectaries may learn
Their real int'rest to discern ;
That brother should not war with brother,
And worry and devour each other :
But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spent ;
Respecting, in each other's case,
The gifts of nature and of grace.

Those Christians best deserve the name
Who studiously make peace their aim :
Peace, both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps, and him that flies --COWI ER.


The trials of virtue Plac'd on the verge of youth, my mind,

Life's op'ning scene survey'd :
I view'd its ills of various kind,

Afflicted and afraid.
But chief my fear the dangers movid

That virtue's path enclose :
My heart the wise pursuit approv'd;

But 0, what toils oppose !
For see, ah see! wbile yet her ways

With doubtful step I tread,
A hostile world its terrors raise,

Its snares delusive spread.
O how shall I, with heart prepar’d,

Those terrors learn to meet ?
How, from the thousand spares to guard

My unexperienc'd feet?
As thus I mus'd, oppressive sleep

Soft o'er my temples drew
Oblivion's veil.-The wat'ry deep,

An object strange and new,
Before me rose : on the wide shore

Observant as I stood,
The gathering storms around me roar

Ani heave the boiling food.
Near and more near the billows rise ;

Ever now my steps they lave ;
And death to my affrighted eyes

Approach'd in every wave. What hope, or whither to retreat!

Each nerve at once unstrung; Chill fear had fetter'd fast my feet,

And chain'd my speechless tongue.
I felt my heart within me die ;

When sudden to mine ear
A voice, descending from on high,

Reprov'd my erring fear. “ What tho' the swelling surge thou 168

Impatient to devour ;
Rest, mortal, rest on God's decree,

Aud thankful own his pow'r.

Know, when he bade the deep appear,

• Thus far.: th’ Almighty said,
• Thus far, no farther, rage ; and here

• Let thy proud waves be stay’d.'"
I heard ; and lo! at once controll'c,

The waves, in wild retreat,
Back on themselves reluctant rolld,

And murm’ring left my feet.
Deeps to assembling deeps in vain

Once more the signal gave :
The shores the rushing weight sustaii,

And check th' usurping wave.
Convinc'd, in nature's volume wise,

The imag'd truth I read ;
And sudden from my waking eyes

Th' instructive vision Aed.
Then why thus heavy, O my soul !

Say why, distrustful still,
Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll

O’er scenes of future ill ?
Let faith suppress each rising fear,

Each anxious doubt exclude :
Thy Maker's will has plac'd thee here,

Å Maker wise and good !
He to thy ev'ry trial knows

Its just restraint to give;
Attentive to behold thiy woes,

And faithful to relieve.
Then why thus heavy, O my soul !

Say why, distrustful still,
Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll

O'er scenes of future ill?
Tho' griefs unnumber'd throng thee round,

Still in thy God confide,
Whose finger marks the seas their bound,

And curbs the headlong tide.---MERRIÇK. 0;

The youth and the philosopher.
A GRECIAN youth of talents rare,

Whom Plato's philosophic care

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