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5 You fall at once into a lower key,

That's worse—the drone-pipe of an humblebee.
The southern sash admits too strong a light,
You rise and drop the curtain—now 'tis night.

He shakes with cold-you stir the fire and strive 10 To make a blaze-that's roasting him alive.

Serve him with venison, and he chooses fish;
With sole—that's just the sort he does not wish.
He takes what he at first professed to loathe,

And in due time feeds heartily on both;
15 Yet still o'erclouded with a constant frown,

He does not swallow, but he gulps it down.
Your hope to please him vain on every plan,
Himself should work that wonder, if he can-

Alas! bis efforts double his distress,
20 He likes yours little, and his own still less.

Thus always teasing others, always teased,
His only pleasure is——to be displeased.

I pity bashsul men, who feel the pain

Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, 25 And bear the marks upon a blushing face

Of needless shame, and self-imposed disgrace.
Our sensibilities are so acute,
The fear of being silent makes us mute.

We sometimes think we could a speech produce 30 Much to the purpose, if our tongues were loose ;

But being tried, it dies upon the lip,
Faint as a chicken's note that has the pip :
Our wasted oil unprofitably burns,

Like hidden lamps in old sepulchral urns. 35 The circle formed, we sit in silent state,

Like figures drawn upon a dial plate ;
Yes ma'am, and no ma'am, uttered softly, show
Every five minutes how the minutes go;

Each individual, suffering a constraint, 40 Poetry may, but colors cannot paint;

As if in close committee on the sky,
Reports it hot or cold, or wet or dry;
And finds a changing clime a happy source

Of wise reflection and well timed discourse. 45 We next inquire, but softly and by stealth,

Like conservators of the public health,
Of epidemic throats, if such there are,
And coughs, and rheums, and phthisic, and catarrh.

That theme exhausted, a wide chasm ensues, 50 Filled up at last with interesting news,

Who danced with whom, and who are like to wed,
And who is hanged, and who is brought to bed :
But fear to call a more important cause,

As if 'twere treason against English laws. 55 The visit paid, with ecstasy we come,

As from a seven years' transportation, home,
And there resume an unembarrassed brow,
Recovering what we lost we know not how,

The faculties, that seemed reduced to nought, 60 Expression and the privilege of thought.


41. Lady Percy to her husband. Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth ; And start so often when thou sit'st alone ?

Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks ; 5 And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,

To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy ?
In thy faint slumbers, I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars ;

Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; 10 Cry, Courage !-to the field! And thou hast talk'd

of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets ;
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin ;

Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain, 15 And all the currents of a heady fight.

Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,

Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream;
20 And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath

On some great sudden haste.' 0, what portents are

these ? Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, 25 And I must know it, else he loves me not.


42. The exercise of the Memory in learning not suficient.

To learn, seems, with many, to imply no more than a bare exercise of memory. To read, and to remember is, they imagine, all they have to do. I affirm on the

contrary that a great deal more is necessary, as to exer5 cise the judgment and the discursive faculty. I shall

put the case, that one were employed to teach you algebra ; and instead of instructing you in the manner of stating and resolving algebraic equations, he should

think it incumbent on him, only to inform you of all the 10 principal problems, that had at any time exercised the

art of the most famous algebraists, and the solutions they had given ; and being possessed of a retentive memory,

I shall suppose, you have a distinct remembrance both of the questions and the answers ; could ye for 15 this, be said to have learnt algebra? No, surely. To

teach you that ingenious and useful art, is to instruct you in those principles, by the proper application of which, you shall be enabled to solve the questions for

yourselves. In like manner, to teach you to understand 20 the scriptures, is to initiate you into those general prin

ciples, which will gradually enable you of yourselves, to enter into their sense and spirit. It is not to make you repeat by rote the judgments of others, but to

bring you to form judgments of your own; to see with 25 your own eyes, and not with other people's. I shall

conclude this prelection with the translation of a short passage from the Persian letters, which falls in entirely with my present subject. Rica having been to visit

the library of a French convent, writes thus to his friend 30 in Persia concerning what had passed. Father, said I

to the librarian, what are these huge volumes which fill the whole side of the library? These, said he, are the Interpreters of the scriptures. There is a prodigious number of them, replied I; the scriptures must have 35 been very dark formerly, and very clear at present. Do there remain still any doubts?

Are there now any points contested? Are there, answered he, with surprise, Are there? There are almost as many as there

are lines. You astonishi me, said I; what then have all 40 these authors been doing? These authors, returned

he, never searched the scriptures, for what ought to be believed, but for what they did believe themselves. They did not consider them as a book, wherein were

contained the doctrines which they ought to receive, 45 but as a work which might be made to authorize their

own ideas. For this reason, they have corrupted all the meanings, and have put every passage to the torture, to make it speak their own sense.

'Tis a country whereon people of all sects make invasions, and


for 50 pillage; it is a field of battle, where, when hostile na

tions meet, they engage, attack and skirmish in a thousand different ways.


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2 The flames rollid on-he would not go,

Without his father's word ;
That father, faint in death below,

His voice no longer heard.
8 He call'd aloud—“Say, father, say

If yet my task is done ???
He knew not that the chieftain lay

Unconscious of his son.

Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admiral of the Orient, remained at his post in the battle of the Nile,) after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned; and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder.

4 " Speak, Father !" once again he cried,

“If I may yet be gone !"
-And but the booming shots replied,

And fast the flames rolled on.
5 They wrapt the ship in splendor wild,

They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,

Like banners in the sky.
6 There came a burst of thunder sound

The boy--oh! where was he ?
-Ask of the winds that far around

With fragments strewed the sea ;
7 With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,

That well had borne their part-
But the noblest thing that perish'd there,
Was that young faithful heart.

Mrs. Hemans.


Fitz James and Roderick Dhu.

With cautious step, and ear awake,
He climbs the crag, and threads the brake;
And not the summer solstice, there,

Temper’d the midnight mountain air, 5 But every breeze that swept the wold,

Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold.
In dread, in danger, and alone,
Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown,

Tangled and steep, he journey'd on; 10 Till, as a rock's huge point he turn’d,

A watch-fire close before him burn'd,
Beside its embers red and clear,
Basked, in his plaid, a mountaineer ;

he sprung with sword in hand, -
15 “ Thy name and purpose! Saxon, stand !''

“ A stranger.”—"What dost thou require ?”.
“ Rest and a guide, and food and fire.
My life's beset, my path is lost,
The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost.”-

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