Th' instruction pour'd upon the infant race, And many a truth by lisping babe is told, Which from its parents' eyes had lain conceal'd, But to their progeny its richest gifts 'twill yield. These, as they rise, shall readily embrace The truths which shall their infant minds engage; Shall hear surpris'd the tales of ancient days, And view with rapture the historic page: And when they read indignant of the rage Of those who aim'd at truth the deadly blow, Shall turn with pleasure to the present age, And bless the gen'rous minds of heav'nly glow, Who taught us knowledge whence serenest pleasures flow. Ye careful guardians of our early days! O may that HIGHER POWER to you reveal And pray, that where you walk, his hand may ever lead. LINES ON "PÆSTUM," An ancient Town of Lucania, around which the soil produced Roses, which blossomed twice a year. The muse of Paradise has deign'd Pulchrorum Christus Pulcher. AWAKE, historic muse-sweet Clio fair! Let thy jet locks in curling ringlets shade Thus, with thy native charms adorn'd by art, My soul with pure poetic flame inspire, While of Lucania's fabled town I sing. Long on the margin of Salerno's flood, This town of splendour ostentatious stood; E'en now we in its ruin'd bulwarks trace The once surprising splendour of the place. Its towery walls with battlements adorn'd, Its foes repress'd, its friends with courage arm'd: Thus panoplied in adamantine mail, She thought 'gainst her, Time's scythe obtuse would fail! Alas, how vain! the change how great appears! Humanity's bright eyes it dims with tears; From circling heights might trav❜llers behold, And thus this empty world will fade away. Oft have I seen the spangled sky athwart, In evanescent glimpse a meteor dart; My gaze awhile it fix'd, then iled again, To the dank darkling desert whence it came. Thus rose Neptunia trailing glory bright, Then sought the shades of never-ending night. From strains funereal, and the " cypress gloom," From pompous Pæstum's dire proscripted doom; The muse averts her painted pinion's plumes, Blithe lays to trill her warbling notes as pure Of vivid lustre lie incas'd in ore; And fragrant shrubs bear aromatic spice; mains, Combin'd with all that Terra's sphere contains, And all the treasures of the starry zone, Nor can a finite mind her worth make known; ever bloom. R. K** TT. Portsea, September 12th, 1822. THE WITHERED PRIMROSE. THE primrose is pinch'd by the cold, And hangs down its innocent head; Its leaves let me gently unfold: Ah me! the sweet primrose is dead! 'Tis thus, cruel world, I have found Thy tempests of passion and pride Spread terror and havoc around, While innocence languish'd and died! E. B. L. No. 46-VOL. IV. MR. EDITOR. By SIR,—When a person has arrived at my time of life, it is neither a useless nor an unpleasing employment, to revolve in his mind the incidents of his past days; and to compare together the nature of the enjoyments and pleasures he has experienced. this means, he may form a true estimate of their respective value; and though he may not himself have frequent opportunities of applying his observations to future practice, they cannot fail of being, in some degree, serviceable to those who are younger than himself, and who are busily hastening along the road which he has already trodden. When we enter on a retrospect of this kind, we cannot but be surprised, in the first place, to recollect how seldom our previous expectations of happiness have been gratified with the event desired, and how often we have tasted sincere and unmingled pleasure which we had not foreseen. Indeed, happiness may be said to be a beautiful coquet, who is not to be obtained by continual assiduity: as we follow, she flies; and it often happens, that the more earnest we are in the pursuit, the more rapid is her flight. If we desist, and treat her with indifference, she returns; and when we have no expectation of her presence, we are pleased to find her seated beside us, and perhaps perceive we are suddenly become her particular favourites. By far the greater part of our enjoyments is derived from circumstances and events that are seldom sought after, but which are common to almost every situation in life. In the gratification of ambition, the moments of enjoyment are few, and those few are too often imbittered by jealousy 3 U and apprehension. In the rounds of gaiety and of pleasure, in crowded assemblies and splendid meetings, how often have days and weeks of expectation terminated in vexation and disappointment, "And e'en whilst fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart, mistrusting, asks, if this be joy?” On the contrary, it often happens that those pleasures, the most innocent in the enjoyment, and the most grateful in the recollection, have been obtained without labour, study, or ostentation; in the society of a friend, in the moments devoted to meditation, in the retirement of a cottage, or the felicity of a domestic fire-side. "I unwearied restlessness, which, ever 66 I must, however, guard the reader against a misapprehension into which he may easily be led by the foregoing observations. In pointing out the wisdom of enjoying such innocent pleasures as may fall in our path, I mean not to appear as the advocate of indolence and of negligence in any way. There are duties incumbent on every department of society; and, till these are performed, it will be in vain to hope for that serenity of mind, which is the only foundation of happiness. If remarks of this nature have not been more frequently inculcated, the truth of them has been tacitly acknowledged by the conduct of some of the best and wisest of mankind. When I see Lælius and Scipio walking on the beach of the sea, and interrupting from time to time their conversation by picking the shells and pebbles of the shore, and admiring their variety and beauty, I doubt whether they do not taste a superior happiness to that which they felt, when, at the head of a victorious army, they poured destruction on the enemies of their country. The ease and composure of mind felt by Montaigne, when he amused himself with the freaks of his cat, excite my admiration and regard much more than the emotions experienced by Petrarch, when, in the midst of an illustrious assembly, he was dignified in Rome with the laurel crown. Then Had Scipio and Lælius spent their how I envy the sensations of the days in picking shells and pebbles French poet, Racine, who, when in- on the sea shore, and Montaigne vited to dinner with a prince of the only played with his cat; such amuseblood, excused himself, because he ments would have been degrading and was to partake with his children of a contemptible: but these moments great fish which they had caught. were purchased by days of exertion These are the truest enjoyments of and solicitude. It is from the conlife; pleasures easy in the acquisi-trast, which the mind experiences tion, that bring no satiety, nor leave a sting behind them. between a state of activity and a state of relaxation, that the latter derives But though these gratifications are its value. Like all other pleasures, common to every situation, and per- it can therefore only be enjoyed with haps equally in the power of the poor restrictions, and in moderation. If and the rich, they are only to be en-long continued, it would first become joyed in their full extent by those who can divest themselves, at times, of their various occupations, and dwell with composure on the present moment, without remorse for the past, or solicitude for the future. That insipid, and afterwards insupportable. The surrounding air-the expansive ocean-are frequently ruffled by the breeze, and sometimes agitated by the storm, but without these they would soon become stagnant, and be dered shocking and blasphemous. deprived of their elastic and healthful | first introduced, was properly consiqualities. In like manner, the quiet of retirement must often be broken in upon by the occupations, and the serenity of domestic happiness by the sorrows of life; but by these we are roused from our languor, and called upon to support with fortitude the part allotted to us, till, having discharged our duties with industry and fidelity, we return with fresh relish to the enjoyment of that peace, of which we have for a time been unavoidably deprived. R. T. IF I remember rightly, that unhappy infidel, Thomas Paine, in one of his abominable writings, calls the Proverbs of Solomon "a Jest Book;" an expression, when considered in connection with its application, sufficient to excite feelings of disgust in the minds of literary, to say nothing of Christian characters. Probably it is the direct and abrupt allusion of this expression, that produces so high a degree of irritation in the minds of the pious and well-disposed; for, I apprehend, it is possible to treat the word of God disrespectfully, if not impiously, without incurring, in many cases, the displeasure we should merit, if our allusions to the sacred book appear, either from custom, or any other cause, somewhat remote and indirect; nay, lamentable experience enables me to speak with certainty: though I confess great allowances must now be made for the force of habit, which has unhappily rendered tolerable a practice, which, in reality, is not tolerable, but deserves severity of treatment; and, perhaps, when I allude to a custom in which too many indulge, viz. pointing their pretensions to wit by citations, partial or entire, from the word of God. This I perceive is done in various ways, both by profane and professor, and, in some cases too, by those who minister in holy things. I might produce various instances to illustrate my meaning; but the practice is so common, that all, I conceive, into whose hands this paper may come, will understand what is intended as the object of my reprobation; and indeed, with this conviction, I cannot prevail with myself to pollute the page by particularizing, some instances are too gross. Sometimes, when thinking on this subject, I have ventured to suppose myself a Christian, born in a country where such a practice is not known. Hearing of the national glory of Britain, her victories, her learning, and her religion, I have paid her a visit, I am placed in her metropolis, where I am surrounded by those who are eager to discover to me all the supposed or real proofs of her greatness: by them I am introduced to her court, her palaces, her cathedrals, abbeys, and churches; her exchanges, her warehouses, her docks, her hospitals, her seats of learning, and to an almost infinite variety of other places, with the number, extent, and splendour, of which my mind is confounded and amazed. At length, by my particular request, I am introduced to a circle of her professedly religious characters, who receive me with every mark of politeness, and with whose appearance and demeanour I am quite prepossessed: with their conversation I am enraptured;-they talk of bible societies, missionary institutions, Sunday schools, and various other establishments, which have for their objects the civilizing, moralizing, and evangelizing of the world, in such a manner as paints to my imagination the arrival of the millennial day in all its glories; and I already fancy I discover the light of divine truth prevailing over the dark corners of the earth with the rapidity of lightning; and my heart is filled with joy. But soon, too soon, alas! these subjects are exhausted, and others are introduced-reserve wears off-cheer communicated by them. For my own part, I have often lamented having received in this way, perhaps, an irreparable injury, from some characters whom I highly esteem; and I heartily wish I had for ever remained a stranger to their skill in this kind of metamorphosis. It may be called a weakness; it is one, however, I firmly believe, from which even those who indulge in the practice are not entirely free. fulness prevails, (to which, by the bye, I am no enemy, when it is kept under proper restrictions,) and how am I shocked at hearing some of the company, who, to give point to their wit, introduce allusions to and expressions from the holy Scriptures; while the rest, instead of weeping at the irreverence, join in laughter! Surely, I conclude, these men must mistake the nature of true religion, and cannot be pious, or they could never thus trifle with the word of God. An Bishop Atterbury considers and opportunity is afforded me of being censures the practice in his sermon introduced to a company of Divines, on Prov. xiv. 6. in which he introand being very desirous of pushing | duces the following illustrative paramy inquiries further, I gladly embrace graph.—(It may be introduced, I conit. Here I anticipated much plea-ceive, with safety, because while sure; and, indeed, I find them to be striking, it is not so gross and offenmen of great theological skill, and of sive as most instances are which bear uncommon powers of mind, possess- upon the subject.)—“ Thus,” says the ing many traits of superior sanctity: Bishop, "a late person, eminent for and yet, surely they are sceptics in wit and wickedness, till a death-bed disguise, and serve at the altar for made him more serious, and gave him the loaves and the fishes; for I found truer apprehensions of things, used to them guilty of the same practice please himself mightily with this which I had witnessed in their people, thought, that the doing of a miracle and as hardened too; for, without was only another phrase for shewing of blushing, they laboured to entertain a trick: and having once represented me and themselves by converting the the thing to himself under such a light Scriptures into their jest book. Oh! image, he could hardly be brought to how I sighed for my native country, think reverently of it ever afterwards, where even the knowledge of such a or to allow the strongest arguments practice would excite feelings of pain which could be brought for the truth and regret! of miracles, a due and impartial consideration." At other times, I have supposed myself to witness the Apostle Paul, introduced to a company of these solemn triflers. In such a situation, I have, naturally enough, imagined his very soul to move within him, full of holy indignation-bis countenance to exhibit marks of displeasure, and kindle with pious anger-and I have heard him, too, give utterance to his roused feelings, in language of cutting and severe reproof. But let us examine this subject more minutely : 1. Does not this practice weaken the power, and, in a great measure, destroy the design, of those passages of Scripture that come under its influence, by an unnatural association of ideas? It is by no means unusual to hear persons declare respecting even some of the most weighty portions of holy writ, that they seldom or never hear, read, or call them to mind, without feeling a disposition to indulge in a spirit of levity, on account of the recurrence of some strange ideas they have heard 2. Does it not degrade the word of God? The Scriptures were given for no such purposes.-But I will not attempt to reason the case-I will only desire my readers- seriously to consider the emphatical expression by which we generally designate the Bible, viz. THE WORD OF GOD; or that fine and well-known sentence used by our immortal Locke in reference to the New Testament, which will apply with equal propriety to the whole canon of scripture "It has God for its author; salvation for its end; and truth, without any mixture of error, for its matter." CHRISTIANS, would a Turk or a Brachman thus treat his Koran or his Shaster? 3. Is it not degrading to the individual who indulges in the practice? Here much might be said; but I will content myself with furnishing the reader with the opinions of two persons, of such eminence on several accounts, as will not fail to command considerable respect. Dr. Johnson, in his Life |