what I had from thence; I commend, from the bottom of my heart, the fame to your, I hope, happy ufe. Dear Sur Hugh! let us be more generous than to believe we die as the beafts that perifh; but with a Christian, manly, brave refolution, look to what is eternal. I will not trouble you farther. The only great and holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, direct you to an happy end of your life, and fend us a joyful refurrection. So prays your true friend, "MARLBOROUGH.”

HEAV'N from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescrib'd their present state:
From brutes, what men; from men, what spirits know :
Or who would fuffer being here below!

The lamb thy riot dooins to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reason, could he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the laft, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand juft rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh! blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by heav'n,
Who fees, with equal eyes, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall.

"I KNOW by experience, (faid Louis, the late Duke of Orleans) that fublunary grandeur and fublunary pleasure are delufive and vain, and are always infinitely below the conceptions we form of them: but, on the contrary, fuch happiness and fuch complacency may be found in devotion and piety, as the fenfual mind has no idea of."

IT is the bufinefs of moralifts to detect the frauds of fortune, and to show that the impofes upon the careless eye, by a quick fucceffion of fhadows, which will fhrink to nothing in the gripe; that the difguifes life in extrinfick ornaments, which ferve only for thow, and are laid afide in the hours of folitude and of pleasure; and, that, when greatnefs afpires either to felicity or wifdom, it shakes off thofe diftinctions which dazzle the gazer, and awe the fupplicant.

The

The dying SAINT.

WHEN life's tempestuous ftorms are o'er,
How calm he meets the friendly fhore,
Who liv'd averfe to fin;
Such peace on virtue's path attends,
That where the finner's pleasure ends
The good man's joys begin.

See fmiling patience smooth his brow!
See bending angels downward bow!
To lift his foul on high;

While eager for the bleft abode,
He joins with them to praise the God
Who taught him how to die.

The horrors of the grave and hell,
Those forrows which the wicked feel,
In vain their gloom display;
For he who bids yon comet burn,
Or makes the night defcend, can turn
Their darkness into day.

No forrow drowns his lifted eyes,
No horror wrefts the struggling fighs,
As from the finner's breast:

His God, the God of peace and love,
Pours kindly folace from above,

And heals his foul with reft.

O grant, my Saviour and my Friend,
Such joys may gild my peaceful end,
And calm my ev'ning's clofe;
While loos'd from every earthly tie,
With steady confidence I fly

To him from whence I rofe.

IT is from the principles of virtue and religion only that mankind can be cheerful in poffeffing life, and eafy in the refignation of it.

P 2

OH!

OH! happy they, who by a life well spent,
Enjoy a true and undisturb'd content;
Blefs'd with a mind unconfcious of offence,
Good-temper, modefty, and folid fense:
In fearch of happinefs they never roam,
Convinc'd that jewel's only found at home;
Free from pride, envy, vanity, and art,
Humble, refign'd, and virtuous is their heart:
'Their lives thus eafy, tranquil, and ferene,
Without they're cheerful, and at peace within ;
They neither with nor fear their period nigh,
Content to live, and well prepar'd to die.

THE temper of Sir Ifaac Newton is faid to have been fo equal and mild, that no accident could disturb it; and a remarkable inftance of it is authenticated by a person who is ftill living. He had a favourite little dog, which he called Diamond; and being one day called out of his study into the next room, Diamond was left behind him. When Sir Ifaac returned, having been abfent but a few minutes, he had the mortification to find, that his dog having thrown down a lighted candle among fome papers, the nearly finished labour of many years was in flames, and almost confumed to ashes. This lofs, as he was then very far advanced in years, was irretrievable; yet, without once ftriking the dog, he only rebuked him with this exclamation: :-"Oh! Diamond, Diamond! thou little knoweft the "mifchief thou haft done!"

OH, lovely Truth! fay where's thy dwelling found; Where shall I fix my foot on folid ground? 'Im out at fea! nor harbour can eípy! "Tis all a boundless fcene of fea and sky! How fhall I then my little bark direct?

What chart fhall guide her, and what port protect?
Where shall I fix my anchor? how explore
Th' unerring way to Truth's all peaceful fhore ?
I aik in fear:-1 fear thefe learned fhocks,
Thefe dangerous quickfands and destructive rocks.

Extenfive

Extenfive knowledge oft o'erfets the mind,
Like hoisting too much fails before the wind:
Yet ign'rance too is dang'rous; 'tis a deep
That drowns the foul, or lulls her pow'rs afleep.
What then avails my fearch for mental blifs,
Since knowing, or not knowing, proves amifs?
Debatings then adieu! henceforth I'll steer,
As led by humble hope, and humble fear;
I'll fteer my bark to fome fequefter'd creek,
And strive to hear what God and nature speak.
I'll fteal away with modesty of mind,
And bid my hopes and wishes lie refign'd:
I'll bid my clam'rous paffions all be still,,
And learn that noble art to rule my will.
My little bark fhall know her fov'reign's nod,›
(Her mafter Jefus, and her pilot God ;)
This is the plan of peace by wisdom giv'n;
And revelation points this course to heav'n.

SOLITUDE is the hallowed ground which religion hath, in every age, chofen for her own. There, her infpiration is felt, and her fecret myfteries elevate the foul. There, falls the tear of contrition; there, rifes towards heaven the figh of the heart; there, melts the foul with all the tendernefs of devotion; and pours itself forth before him who made, and him who redeemed it.

gay:

THE fplendid vanities of life defpife,
So quickly o'er, fo useless to the wife;
What real joy can gain, or drefs afford,.
Or are we happier though they call us lord:
Let others flaunt, and throw their lives away,'-
Proud, wretched, foolish, handfome, rich, and
Let noife and hurry every hour engage,
Pomp, vifits, faunt'ring, tavern, court, or ftage,
Nor envy we; but thofe with pity view
Who follow still falfe happiness for true;
Obferve their errors, and obferving shun,
And from their practice as destruction run.

P3

T

THOU

THOU attribute divine! thou ray of God!
Immortal reafon! come, and with thee bring,
In thy exulting train, invincible,

The honeft purpofe, and the cheerful heart;
The joyful fancy, fill'd with images

Of truth, of science, and of focial love.
There is no ground for fear, while we are good:
Nature's the nurfe, and Providence the guide.

SOLITUDE.

SWEET Solitude, thou placid queen,
Of modest air, and brow ferene,
'Tis thou infpir'ft the poet's themes,
Wrap'd in foft vifionary dreams.

Parent of virtue, nurse of thought,
By thee were faints and patriarchs taught;
Wisdom from thee her treasures drew,
And in thy lap fair science grew

Whate'er exalts, refines, and charms,
Invites to thought, to virtue warms;
Whate'er is perfect, fair, and good,
We owe to thee, fweet Solitude.

In these bleft fhades thou doft maintain
Thy peaceful unmolefted reign;.
No turbulent defires intrude

On thy repose, sweet Solitude.

With thee the charm of life shall last,
E'vn when its rofy bloom is past,
And when flow-pacing time fhall spread
Its filver bloffoms o'er my head.

No more with this vain world perplex'd;
Thou shalt prepare me for the next:
The fprings of life fhall gently cease,
And angels point the way to peace.

An