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A traitor crew, who thrive in troubled times,
Fear'd for their force, and courted for their crimes.

Chief to the prosperous side the numbers sail,
Fickle and false, they veer with every gale;
As birds that migrate from a freezing shore,
In search of warmer climes, come skimming o'er,
Some bold adventurers first prepare to try
The doubtful sunshine of the distant sky;
But soon the growing Summer's certain sun
Wins more and more, till all at last are won:
So, on the early prospect of disgrace,
Fly in vast troops this apprehensive race;
Instinctive tribes! their failing food they dread,
And buy, with timely change, their future bread.

Such are our guides: how many a peaceful bead,
Born to be still, have they to wrangling led !
How many an honest zealot stolen from trade,
And factious tools of pious pastors made!
With clews like these they tread the maze of state,
These oracles explore, to learn our fate;
Pleased with the guides who can so well deceive,
Who cannot lie so fast as they believe.

From The Newspaper.


Counter and Clubb were men in trade, whose pains, Credit, and prudence, brought them constant gains; Partners and punctual, every friend agreed, Counter and Clubb were men who must succeed. When they had fix'd some little time in life, Each thought of taking to himself a wife : As men in trade alike, as men in love They seem'd with no according views to move; As certain ores in outward view the same, They show'd their difference when the magnet came. Counter was vain: with spirit strong and high, "Twas not in him like suppliant swain to sigh: “ His wife might o'er his men and maids preside, And in her province be a judge and guide; But what he thought, or did, or wish d to do, She must not know, or censure if she knew; At home, abroad, by day, by night, if he On aught determined, so it was to be:

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Ilow is a man," he ask’d, “ for business fit,
Who to a female can his will submit ?
Absent awhile, let no inquiring eye
Or plainer speech presume to question why,
But all be silent; and, when seen again,
Let all be cheerful—shall a wife complain?
Friends I invite, and who shall dare t' object,
Or look on them with coolness or neglect ?
No! I must ever of my house be head,
And, thus obey'd, I condescend to wed.”

Clubb heard the speech—“My friend is nice," said he;
A wife with less respect will do for me:
How is he certain such a prize to gain ?
What he approves, a lass may learn to feign,
And so affect t' obey till she begins to reign;
A while complying, she may vary then,
And be as wives of more unwary men;
Beside, to him who plays such lordly part,
How shall a tender creature yield her heart?
Should he the promised confidence refuse,
She may another more confiding choose;
May show her anger, yet her purpose hide,
And wake his jealousy, and wound his pride.
In one so humbled, who can trace the friend?
I on an equal, not a slave, depend;
If true, my confidence is wisely placed,
And being false, she only is disgraced.”
Clubb, with these notions, cast his eye

And one so easy soon a partner found.
The lady chosen was of good repute;
Meekness she had not, and was seldom mute;
Though quick to anger, still she loved to smile;
And would be calm if men would wait awhile:
She knew her duty, and she loved her way,
More pleased in truth to govern than obey;
She heard her priest with reverence, and her spouse
As one who felt the pressure of her vows:
Useful and civil, all her friends confess'd-
Give her her way, and she would choose the best;
Though some indeed a sly remark would make-
Give it her not, and she would choose to take.

All this, when Clubb some cheerful months had spent,
He saw, confess’d, and said he was content.

Counter meantime selected, doubted, weigh'd,
And then brought home a young complying maid ;-
A tender creature, full of fears as charms,
A beauteous nursling from its mother's arms;

A soft, sweet blossom, such as men must love,
But to preserve must keep it in the stove:
She had a mild, subdued, expiring look-
Raise but the voice, and this fair creature shook ;
Leave her alone, she felt a thousand fears-
Chide, and she melted into floods of tears;
Fondly she pleaded, and would gently sigh
For very pity, or she knew not why;
One whom to govern none could be afraid-
Hold up the finger, this meek thing obey’d;
Her happy husband had the easiest task-
Say but his will, no question would she ask;
She sought no reasons, no affairs she knew,
Of business spoke not, and had nought to do.

Oft he exclaim'd, “ How meek! how mild! how kind !
With her 'twere cruel but to seem unkind;
Though ever silent when I take my leave,
It pains my heart to think how hers will grieve;
"Tis heaven on earth with such a wife to dwell,
I am in raptures to have sped so well;
But let me not, my friend, your envy raise,
No! on my life, your patience has my praise."

His friend, though silent, felt the scorn implied-
“What need of patience?" to himself he cried :
“Better a woman o'er her house to rule,
Than a poor child just hurried from her school;
Who has no care, yet never lives at ease;
Unfit to rule, and indisposed to please ;
What if he govern ? there his boast should end,
No husband's power can make a slave his friend.”

From Talcs.


Sir Hector Blane, the champion of the school,

as very blockhead, but was form’d for rule:
Learn he could not; he said he could not learn,
But he profess'd it gave him no concern.
Books were his horror, dinner his delight,
And his amusement to shake hands and fight;
Argue he could not, but, in case of doubt,
Or disputation, fairly box’d it out:
This was his logic, and his arm so strong,
His cause prevail’d, and he was never wrong;

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But so obtuse-you must have seen his look,
Desponding, angry, puzzled o'er his book.

Can you not see him on the morn that proved
His skill in figures ? Pluto's self was moved—
“ Come---six times five ?” th’impatient teacher cried;
In vain, the pupil shut his eyes, and sigh’d.
“ Try-six times count your fingers; how he stands !-
Your fingers, idiot!"-"What, of both my hands ?"

With parts like these his father felt assured,
In busy times, a ship might be procured;
He too was pleased to be so early freed,
He now could fight, and he in time might read.
So he has fought, and in his country's cause
Has gain'd him glory, and our hearts' applause.
No more the blustering boy a school defies,
We see the hero from the tyrant rise,
And in the captain's worth the student's dulness dies.

From Tales of the Hall,

3 조


I sought a village priest, my mother's friend,
And I believed with him my days would end :
The man was kind, intelligent, and mild,
Careless and shrewd, yet simple as the child ;
For of the wisdom of the world his share
And mine were equal-neither had to spare;
Else, with his daughters, beautiful and poor-
He would have kept a sailor from his door :
Two then were present, who adorn'd his home,
But ever speaking of a third to come;
Cheerful they were, not too reserved or free,
I loved them both, and never wish'd them three.

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The vicar's self, still further to describe,
Was of a simple, but a studious tribe ;
He from the world was distant, not retired,
Nor of it much possessid, nor much desired :
Grave in his purpose, cheerful in his eye,
And with a look of frank benignity.
He lost his wife when they together past
Years of calm love, that triumph'd to the last.

He much of nature, not of man had seen;
Yet his remarks were often shrewd and keen;
Taught not by books t'approve or to condemn,
He gain'd but little that he knew from them;
He read with reverence and respect the few,
Whence he his rules and consolations drew;
But men and beasts, and all that lived or moved,
Were books to him; he studied them and loved.

He knew the plants in mountain, wood, or mead;
He knew the worms that on the foliage feed;
Knew the small tribes that 'scape the careless eye,
The plant's disease that breeds the embryo-fly;
And the small creatures, who on bark or bough
Enjoy their changes, changed we know not how;
But now th' imperfect being scarcely moves,
And now takes wing and seeks the sky it loves.

He had no system, and forebode to read The learned labours of th' immortal Swede; But smiled to hear the creatures he had known So long, were now in class and order shown, Genus and species—"Is it meet,” said he, “This creature's name should one so sounding be? 'Tis but a fly, though first-born of the springBombilius majus, dost thou call the thing? Majus, indeed! and yet, in fact, 'tis true, We all are majors, all are minors too, Except the first and last—th' immensely distant two. And here again—what call the learned this? Both Hippobosca and Hirundinis ? Methinks the creature should be proud to find That he employs the talents of mankind; And that his sovereign master shrewdly looks, Counts all his parts, and puts them in his books. Well! go thy way, for I do feel it shame To stay a being with so proud a name."

From Tales of the llall.


And now 'tis time to fill that ductile mind With knowledge, from his stores of various kind : His mother, in a peevish mood, had ask'd, “ Does your Augusta profit? is she task’d?”

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