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to speak to you, because he is going
elsewhere; and when he gets there,
he is too late for his business; or he
must hurry away to another before he
can
finish it. Punctuality gives
weight to character: "such a man
has made an appointment-then I
know he will keep it.' And this pro-
duces punctuality in you, for, like
other virtues, it propagates itself.
Servants and children must be punc-
tual where their leader is so. Ap-

owe you punctuality, if I have made
an appointment with you; and you
have no right to throw away your time,
if I do my own."
KAMES.

mind, and extensive capabilities. But as he could no longer grapple with the giants of Humphreys' army, he now meanly and cowardly seizes some of the pigmies, and, in the true spirit of disingenuous fool-hardiness, shouts victory, though expiring from the wounds inflicted upon him while he dared to engage in the manly department of the warfare. I have read the controversy this day; and, just now, I think I see the vanquished coward sneaking from the ground of danger,-pointments, indeed, become debts. I and yet, to appear brave, he is dealing out his rebounding blows, as he retires from the heat of fight, to lie down and die unobserved. But vain is the attempt. For those who have skill in the tactics of intellectual warfare, and have witnessed the fight, saw the vaunting hero, of haughty mien, enter the field full plumed, and with weapons of high polish, as if to scare with the swellings of his vanity. But plumes, you know, Sir, though showy, are not proof against forcible and welldirected blows;-weapons designed for execution should do more than sparkle in the sun-they should be well tempered, and have an edge, and they should be under the direction of judgment, and wielded by arms of

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POETRY.

ON TROUBLE.-By a Young Lady.
A heavy sigh, a falling tear,
An anxious bosom thrill'd with fear,
All gloom and horror, nothing near,

But trouble.

A lonely path, a prospect drear,
Bereft of hope in all that's dear,
And no companion left to cheer

In trouble.

Not one consolatory gleam,
Both heaven and earth united seem
Against me, and all objects teem

With trouble.
Wild anguish bursts from ev'ry vein,
My ev'ry nerve is big with pain,
And now, oh how shall I sustain

My trouble! Hush, murm'ring soul, repress that thought,

God shall sustain you; oh be taught
To view your reason as you ought,
In trouble.

Pray that humility may bind
Those angry feelings of the mind,
And know that Jesus still is kind

In trouble.
And when he in his sov'reign grace,
Again to you reveals his face,
He'll prove himself a hiding place
From trouble.

Portsea, April 23, 1822.

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Her daily health, adorn'd with cheerful bloom, Bespoke some distance from an early tomb;But ah! before the sun had pass'd the vale, The face, once deck'd with bloom, was cold and pale:

Like as a bud-its beauties would displayMeets some untimely end, and fades away, With all its sweets, that might have soon appear'd,

It droops and dies, and never can be rear'd.

Th' angelic host her happy spirit led To regions far beyond the mournful dead; With unknown joys she joins the heav'nly throng,

And sweetly sings the grand melodious song: Such blissful pow'rs her soul could not surmise,

Till death had rais'd above the azure skies
Her happy spirit, from the bounds of clay,
To dwell with angels through eternal day.
Portsea, 1820.

J. G. C.

TO A FRIEND ON HIS MARRIAGE.

I OFFER nought at flatt'ry's shrine
To celebrate thy nuptial day;
But wish each blessing to be thine
I now enum'rate in my lay.

And, first, I wish that rosy health

May be thy constant, changeless friend; And then so much of this world's wealth, As will, with health, life's comforts blend. May she, whom now thou call'st thy own, Be gifted with a heav'nly pow'r To bear life's ills, or fortune's frown,

And soothe thy pains in sorrow's hour, Whene'er they meet thee on thy way; And may thy children round thee spring, And be thy hope when hair is grey,

And old age sickness, pain, doth bring. May calm contentment o'er thee reign, And peace and joy thy dwelling fill; And sorrow never in their train

Be found,-tis vain:-I wish it still :

For well I know that perfect joy
Is not allow'd to man below,

Nor bliss will be without alloy,

Till old Time's stream shall cease to flow. Acton Place.

M. M.

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1 The late Zachary Moore, Esq.

2 Sterne was a frequent visiter of Skelton Castle, which has been recently rebuilt, and is the property of John Wharton, Esq. M. P.

3 A familiar name for a facetious friend, the late Rev. Robert Lassells, A. M. vicar of Gilling, near Richmond.

4 Seat of Lady Dowager Dundas.

5 Now called the Plantation; the seat of the late General Hale.

6 The Chaloners are paternally descended from Trahayrne the Great, son of Mayloe Krwrne, (alias Chaloner,) one of the 15 peers or tribes of North Wales, by marriage with Gwenllyan, daughter of Howel Koedmore, who was lineally descended from Griffith, son of Llyllyan ap Jerworth, prince of Wales.

7 Kirkleatham, the residence of the late Sir Vansittart, Esq. nephew to the Chancellor of Charles Turner, Bart. (at present of Henry the Exchequer.) In the chapel over the altar, is a beautiful window of painted glass, esteemed one of the finest in the world, representing the offerings of the Magi at the birth of our Saviour. The library is furnished with several natural and artificial curiosities; among the latter is a singular piece of carved work, representing St. George and the Dragon, cut out of one piece of box-wood with a knife, and executed with a degree of delicate nicety scarcely ever equalled. 3 H

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SILENCE and darkness now are reigning round,

The late so busy world is hush'd to rest, All, all is still--but while I hear no sound, A reverential awe steals through my breast: Thoughts rise-"In heaven the anthems of the blest,

Cease not ev'n now, for there no night is found,

And never more shall silence be a guest. On earth too, many a thousand of my race, (Though 'tis my midnight hour) employ their day,

Or hail its dawning beam. And no delay Impedes earth's onward roiling thro' the space;

Though I rest here: so glides my life away! While part remains, may I for death prepare, Then to heaven's blissful anthems add my humble share."

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A HYMN.

1 Pet. v. 7.-Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.

JESUS, my great, my gracious Lord,
On him I cast my care;
For he assures me in his word,
He all my sorrows bare.
His tender, watchful, guardian eye
Beholds my ev'ry grief;

Nor shall a deep or mournful sigh
Be heard without relief.

His love and wisdom mark my path,
And weigh my ev'ry pain,
And if a doubt opposes,-faith
Shall certain vict'ry gain.

A thousand promises divine
Their constant aid insure,
And love and sympathy combine
To render me secure.

Tho' clouds and darkness veil the sky,
And hide his smiling face,
Justice and judgment still supply

His chosen ones with grace.

Be strong, my soul, be strong, my faith,
Strong in God's holy word;
Attend to what th' Almighty saith,—
"I am thy faithful Lord."

Wakefield, March 28, 1821.

S. W.

ON THE DELICACY NECESSARY TO BE OBSERVED IN PERFORMING ACTS OF KINDNESS.

Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others shew,
That mercy shew to me!

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POPE.

SENECA, that celebrated philosopher, and universally admired moralist, observes, that it is so painful for a man of sensibility to utter the degrading words 'I beg,' that a mind formed in such a mould, will endure the greatest hardships, rather than conde scend to solicit assistance."

ordained such a diversity of situaThat great Power, however, who tions, doubtless designed them as means of disseminating the practice of beneficence; or, in other words, that the affluent should enjoy the secret satisfaction of succouring the indigent. It has wisely been asserted, that there is something Godlike in the practice of benevolence; and sweet must be the reward it conveys to those, who are capable of performing it; yet there are persons, who, by an ungracious manner of conferring an obligation, may be said, in a certain degree, to cancel the debt. Even in those com

mon acts of charity, which moderate competence enables us to practise, a delicacy of manner ought to be shewn to the objects of our beneficence; and if this mode of conduct is necessary towards the children of poverty and indigence, how much more attentive ought we to be to the feelings of those who are reduced from affluence to distress. It is not sufficient that we endeavour to relieve the actual wants of such persons, we must avoid wounding their feelings; we must offer our boon with a mixture of sympathy and tenderness; and recollect there is a certain pride attached to degraded circumstances, quickly wounded, and easily offended!

Though several writers, ancient and modern, have recorded instances of this species of beneficence, flattering, in the highest degree, to those who performed them, yet none have struck me as more refinedly delicate, than one I recently met with in a French biographical work, the circumstances attending which were as follows:

Upon the Archbishop D'Apchon's arrival at his archiepiscopal residence in Gascony, he was desirous of becoming acquainted with the characters of the principal inhabitants of Auch; and in consequence of his inquiries, he was informed that in the suburbs there resided two maiden ladies of high rank, but degraded fortune, who had survived all their near relatives, and were so reduced, as only to be able to keep one servant. The worthy prelate was deeply affected by the simple recital of degraded dignity; and reflected in what manner he might be able to relieve their necessities, without wounding their feelings; but as no fortunate idea happened to strike him, he resolved to pay the two sisters an early visit. Though represented as truly amiable, they were pronounced highly dignified; in short, poverty had not been able to subdue the pride of rank, in consequence of which, the worthy Bishop was at a loss in what manner to display his intended beneficence.

Though the house was humble, its ill-fated inhabitants were haughty; and the Archbishop having been shewn into a small apartment, had an opportunity of examining it before the ladies made their appearance.-Upon entering, they observed their guest intently gazing upon an old painting, with an expression of delight upon his

countenance; and the courtesies of a first interview being ended, the prelate again drew near the picture, bestowing at the same time such extravagant praise upon it, as at once astonished and delighted the ladies, the elder of whom instantly offered to send it to the palace on the following morning.

"To the palace, Madam!" exclaimed the prelate, "surely you cannot be a stranger to the value of it? I confess it is the very picture I have long wanted; and I have given an eminent artist a commission to procure me that identical subject. The value of that painting I know to be one thousand guineas; and if you will spare it upon those terms, you will lay me under an everlasting obligation, Ladies."

A mutual glance of delight passed between the two sisters; the worthy Bishop professed himself to be the obliged person, declaring they had saved him an infinity of trouble, by preventing the pretended artist's journey to Rome.

This may truly be termed the refinement of beneficence; for, had the generous prelate proposed presenting decayed nobility with a sum which would have relieved their pressing difficulties, pride must instantly have taken alarm, and they doubtless would have rejected friendship's pure and disinterested offering.

A thousand guineas, it must be allowed, is a sum few possess the power of devoting to the comfort and relief of the children of misfortune; and yet the papers daily teem with descriptions of fashionable entertainments, which, unless truth is prostituted, and splendour magnified, equal, if not far exceed, that amount! Ye daughters of fashion, nurtured in the lap of luxury, reflect for one moment, I beseech you, upon the refined gratification which must attend an action, similar to that ascribed to the worthy Archbishop; then draw a comparison between your sensations upon examining the exorbitant demand upon your purse for one splendid entertainment! an entertainment which, in all probability, many of the party attended, for the purpose of outvying in expense, magnificence, and profusion!

That this is no exaggerated picture of elevated association, those who move round the sun of royalty will

readily allow; and likewise acknowledge that the courteous smile of majesty seldom fails exciting a portion of envy towards those on whom it may be shed! Not that I mean to infer, that the baneful passion of envy is exclusively attached to courts; for, unhappily for the comforts of society, it not only pervades the middling, but the lower order; and the rage for expensive amusements, still more unhappily, extends to those who sacrifice to them, their children's future prospects in the world.

But I am widely digressing from the subject of this essay, which was not only to recommend beneficence to the affluent, but to convince the youthful, that an act of kindness is augmented by the method of performing it. Lord Chesterfield, that polished man, but truly mistaken father, is allowed, in an eminent degree, to have possessed the virtue of benevolence; and various are the instances related, of the delicate manner in which he performed those acts. His lordship's biographer informs us, that a clergyman who had long been curate of the parish in which one of his estates was situated, paid the debt of nature in very reduced circumstances, leaving two unmarried daughters to struggle with poverty and wretchedness.

Those pleasing prospects which youth or beauty might have laid open to them, were obscured by Time's destroying hand, for each of these illfated females had seen upwards of fifty annual suns; and it was with difficulty they obtained the mere necessaries of existence by needle-work and clear-starching. Shocked at the description of their forlorn situation, with a delicacy that did honour to his lordship's feelings, he paid them an early visit; and the subject of game having been mentioned, the elder of the sisters observed, she had not tasted a hare since her beloved father's death.

Lord Chesterfield, on returning to his splendid mansion, inquired whether there was a hare in the larder at that moment; and being answered in the affirmative, ordered it to be brought him, at the same time desiring the cook to send him a handful of those herbs which were generally used in stuffing. These herbs he enclosed in a sheet of writing paper, together with a fifty-pound note, accompanied

by a few lines, entreating them to pardon him for undertaking the office of their cook, but assuring them, that whilst they all were in existence, a hare, with a similar kind of stuffing, should be an annual present.

One of the highest gratifications attendant upon rank and fortune is, the wide field they open to the practice of beneficence; for how delightful must it be to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit those who are sick and in prison, and yet know that the performance of these imposing duties neither injures the fortune, nor lessens any personal enjoyments. Charity may not only be considered as a moral, but a religious, duty, and one which the Saviour of mankind forcibly inculcated; for every precept he enforced, and every doctrine he impressed upon the minds of his hearers, had some allusion to the practice of sympathy and benevolence. Where much has not been given, much will not be required from us; yet circumscribed indeed must be that income, which cannot permit a minor display of beneficence; even in that case it behoves us to deprive ourselves of some few indulgences, that we may have the satisfaction of relieving poverty and wretchedness.

A sympathy for the woes of others is frequently displayed in actual childhood; for, with a sensation of delight which it would be difficult to express, frequently have I seen the small sums bestowed for the gratification of the appetite, given to a poor mendicant whom an amiable child has accidentally met? What an admirable lesson does such an act present to the callous and the apathetic! for the relinquishing a tart, or a cake, at that period of existence, may be considered as great a privation, as it would be for a young lady, more advanced, to give the sum devoted to the purchase of a ball ticket, to the relief of some unfortunate family in distress. It is in cases of this description, that charity may justly be termed a Godlike virtue ;its effects are equally beneficial, whether they proceed from the hand of affluence or competence; yet infinitely superior must be the pleasure arising from the practice, if, to perform a duty, we relinquish a personal enjoyment. Such actions, exemplifying pure benevolence, cannot proceed from self-love.

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