Was with his lot contented.-Happy state!
Labour he plied for exercise, not gain.
At early dawn, he led me to the field;
And, drawing morals from each task he took,
Told me, "that ev'ry seed, well sown on earth,
Would yield full harvest in that awful day,
When all arrears of labour shall be paid;
Each well-meant toil rewarded."-Once perchance
I found him busied near a murmʼring rill :

To various little streams he turn'd its source,
Where, wand'ring devious through his neat dress'd
grounds,

It cheer'd the green copse, fill'd the earing corn;
Then trickled gently through the perfum'd grove.
"Mark well, my child," he said; "this little stream
Shall teach thee Charity. It is a source

I never knew to fail: directed thus

Be that soft stream, the fountain of thy heart.
For, Oh! my much lov'd child, I trust thy heart
Has those affections that shall bless thyself;
And flowing softly, like this little rill,

Cheer all that droops"-The good man did not err—
The milk of human kindness warm'd my breast;
Young as I was, I felt for others' woes,

And, when I could, reliev'd them. Yet-I was young!
And, having lavish'd all my infant store
In gewgaw toys, and childish fooleries,

I do remember well, a vet'ran old,

Maim'd and disfigur'd by the hand of war,
Implor'd my charity. I felt, alas!

His various wants sore, sick, and wan, he seem'd.

My little heart bled at each wound he show'd,
Alas! alas! replied my infant thoughts,

And shall want cloud the ev'ning of his days,
Whose noon of life was toil?—And then I wept.-
It was the first time that I e'er knew want:
I was indeed a bankrupt. Edgar came.
I wept, but spoke not; for my heart was full.
"What wilt thou give, my boy ?"-Fearing a lie,
I sobbed out truth most sadly. Edgar felt;
Pardon'd my folly; (for he lov'd my tears ;)
And gave what sooth'd the poor man's misery.
But, in our ev'ning's walk, behold! the stream
Was dry. I ask'd the cause- - Mark me, my child,
This rill, I told thee oft, through all thy life,
Should teach thee Charity.-Now let it teach,
If yet thou hast to learn, that the bless'd source
Of lib'ral deeds is wise Economy.

This morn, like thee, I drew the stream too fast:
Now-when the parch'd glebe wants its wat'ry aid,
The source is all exhausted.”

HARDCASTLE.

CHAPTER_III.

DIDACTIC PIECE S.

SECTION I.

TO SOME CHILDREN LISTENING TO A LARK.

SEE, the lark prunes his active wings,
Rises to Heav'n, and soars, and sings!
His morning hymns, his mid-day lays,
Are one continued song of praise.
He speaks his Maker all he can,
And shames the silent tongue of man.
When the declining orb of light
Reminds him of approaching night,
His warbling vespers swell his breast;
And, as he sings, he sinks to rest.
Shall birds instructive lessons teach,
And we be deaf to what they preach ?
No, ye dear nestlings of my heart;
Go, act the wiser songster's part:
Spurn your warm couch at early dawn,
And with your God begin the morn.
To him your grateful tribute pay,
Thro' ev'ry period of the day,

To him your ev'ning songs direct;
His eye shall watch, his arm protect:
Tho' darkness reigns, he's with you still;
Then sleep my babes, and fear no ill.

COTTON.

SECTION II.

THE ADVANTAGES OF EARLY RELIGION.

HAPPY the child, whose tender years
Receive instruction well;

Who hates the sinner's path, and fears
The road that leads to hell.

When we give up our youth to God,
"Tis pleasing in his eyes :
A flow'r, that's offer'd in the bud,
Is no vain sacrifice.

"Tis easy work, if we begin

To fear the Lord betimes; While sinners, who grow old in sin, Are harden'd in their crimes.

"Twill save us from a thousand snares,
To mind religion young;

It will preserve our following years,
And make our virtues strong.

To thee, Almighty God! to thee
Our childhood we resign;

"Twill please us to look back, and see
That our whole lives were thine.

Let the sweet work of pray'r and praise
Employ our youngest breath;
Thus we're prepar'd for longer days,
Or fit for earthly death.

WATTS.

SECTION III.

PEACE AND LOVE RECOMMENDED.

LET dogs delight to bark and bite;
For God has made them so;
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature too.

But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise:
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.

Let love thro' all your actions run,
And all your words be mild;
Live like God's well beloved Son,
That sweet and lovely child.

His soul was gentle as a lamb;
And as in age he grew,

He grew in favour both with man,
And God his Father too.

The Lord of all who reigns above,
Does from his heav'nly throne,
Behold what children dwell in love,

And marks them for his own.

WATTS.