“ Torn up by storms and placed in earth once more, “ The younger tree may sun and soil restore; - But when the old and sapless trunk lies low, “ No care or soil can former life bestow; “ Reserved for burning is the worthless tree; “ And what, О Abel! is reserved for thee ?"

These angry words our hero deeply felt, Though hard his heart, and indisposed to melt ! To gain relief he took a glass the more, And then went on as careless as before; Thenceforth, uncheck’d, amusements he partook, And (save his ledger) saw no decent book; Him found the merchant punctual at his task, And that perform’d, he'd nothing more to ask ; He cared not how old Abel play'd the fool, No master he, beyond the hours of school : Thus they proceeding, had their wine and joke, Till merchant Dixon felt a warning stroke, And, after struggling half a gloomy week, Left his

poor

clerk another friend to seek. Alas! the son, who led the saint astray, Forgot the man whose follies made him

gay; He cared no more for Abel in his need, Then Abel cared about his hackney steed; He now, alas ! had all his earnings spent, And thus was left to languish and repent;

No school nor clerkship found he in the place,
Now lost to fortune, as before to grace.

For town-relief the grieving man applied,
And begg'd with tears what some with scorn denied ;
Others look'd down upon the glowing vest,
And frowning, ask'd him at what price he dress d ?
Happy for him his country's laws are mild,
They must support him, though they still reviled;
Grieved, abject, scorn'd, insulted, and betray'd,
Of God unmindful, and of man afraid,-
No more he talk'd; 'twas pain, 'twas shame to speak,
His heart was sinking and his frame was weak.
His sister died with such serene delight,
He once again began to think her right;
Poor like himself, the happy spinster lay,
And sweet assurance bless'd her dying-day:
Poor like the spinster, he, when death was nigh,
Assured of nothing, felt afraid to die.
The cheerful clerks who sometimes pass'd the door,
Just mention d " Abel!" and then thought no more.
So Abel, pondering on his state forlorn,
Look'd round for comfort, and was chased by scorn.
And now we saw him on the beach reclined,
Or causeless walking in the wintry wind;
And when it raised a loud and angry sea,
He stood and gazed, in wretched reverie:

He heeded not the frost, the rain, the snow;
Close by the sea he walk'd alone and slow:
Sometimes his frame through many an hour he spread
Upon a tombstone, moveless as the dead;
And was there found a sad and silent place,
There would he creep with slow and measured pace :
Then would he wander by the river's side,
And fix his eyes upon the falling tide ;
The deep dry ditch, the rushes in the fen,
And mossy crag-pits were his lodgings then :
There, to his discontented thoughts a prey,
The melancholy mortal pined away. .

The neighb’ring poor at length began to speak
Of Abel's ramblings—he 'd been gone a week;
They knew not where, and little care they took
For one so friendless and so poor to look ;
At last a stranger, in a pedler's shed,
Beheld him hanging—he had long been dead.
He left a paper, penn'd at sundry times.
Intitled thus" My Groanings and my Crimes !"

“ I was a christian man, and none could lay

Aught to my charge; I'walk'd the narrow way: “ All then was simple faith, serene and pure,

My hope was steadfast and my prospects sure; “ Then was I tried by want and sickness sore, “ But these I clapp'd my shield of faith before, 6 And cares and wants and man's rebukes I bore :

“ Alas! new foes assaild me; I was vain, “ They stung my pride and they confused my brain : “ Oh! these deluders ! with what glee they saw “ Their simple dupe transgress the righteous law; “ 'Twas joy to them to view that dreadful strife, “ When faith and frailty warr'd for more than life; “ So with their pleasures they beguiled the heart, “ Then with their logic they allay'd the smart; “ They proved (so thought I then) with reasons strong, “ That no man's feelings ever led him wrong: “ And thus I went, as on the varnish'd ice, “ The smooth career of unbelief and vice. “ Oft would the youths, with sprightly speech and

bold, “ Their witty tales of naughty priests unfold; 666'Twas all a craft,' they said, “a cunning trade, “ « Not she the priests, but priests religion made : “ So I believed :"—No, Abel! to thy grief, So thou relinquish’dst all that was belief:“I grew as very flint, and when the rest

Laugh'd at devotion, I enjoy'd the jest; “ But this all vanish'd like the morning-dew, “ When unemploy’d, and poor again I grew; “ Yea! I was doubly poor, for I was wicked too.

“ The mouse that trespass’d and the treasure stole, “ Found his lean body fitted to the hole;

“ Till having fatted, he was forced to stay,

And, fasting, starve his stolen bulk away: “ Ah! worse for me-grown poor, I yet remain “ In sinful bonds, and pray and fast in vain.

“At length I thought, although these friends of sin “ Have spread their net and caught their prey therein ; “ Though my hard heart could not for mercy call, “ Because, though great my grief, my faith was small; “ Yet, as the sick on skilful men rely, “ The soul diseased may to a doctor fly.

“ A famous one there was, whose skill had wrought “ Cures past belief, and him the sinners sought ; “ Numbers there were defiled by mire and filth, “ Whom he recover'd by his goodly tilth:"Come then,' I said, “ let me the man behold, “And tell my case'- I saw him and I told.

“ With trembling voice, Oh! reverend sir,' I said, " " I once believed, and I was then misled; “And now such doubts my sinful soul beset, « • I dare not say that I'm a Christian yet; « « Canst thou, good sir, by thy superior skill, “ . Inform my judgment and direct my will ? "Ah! give thy cordial; let my soul have rest, 66 And be the outward man alone distress’d; “For at my state I tremble.'-Tremble more,' " Said the good man, and then rejoice therefore;