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atten whic! but i heart



by re ! for tł

the enamoured swain, who is a prey to the inquietudes
of an unrequited passion. Such an one I observe, by
the light of the moon, at this moment walking to and
fro by the side of a river, ruminating on the divine
object of his misery. Would to heaven that some
press-gang were at hand to bear him away from such
useless solicitude ; nothing but main force can extri-
cate him from the tyranny of the gentle Saphorina,
and nothing less than the boatswain's pipe rouse him
from the soft lethargies of despair, in which he is con-
stantly entranced. It was humorously said by a
physician, who happened to notice a young man in
love eat very heartily of some rump steaks, that the
distemper was turned; perhaps a good rump may be
a specific, and it is certainly an inoculation that
many hungry lovers would gladly consent to try.





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Charity is another charm and delight of human life which has capabilities of spreading abroad peace and good will; it embraces the universe with its endearments, and receives to its bosom the erring heart which seeks forgiveness, and which needs support; above the meanness of making distinctions, it furnishes the table of hospitality to all, and excludes not any from its abundant feast. It warms, delights, and invigorates the drooping heart, chilled by disappointment, and, hand in hand with hope, travels the world to cheer and bless mankind.







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Cheerfulness is another blessing to man. Cheerfulness is ever the companion of a good heart; for a bad man is never thoroughly at rest, and though he may

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attempt gaiety, the smile he wears is only an exterior which the world has taught him, and which, after all, but ill conceals a mind distracted. In short, a good heart is the ground work of all the enjoyments and entertainments of the mind; safe within its little independent territory, desired by humility and prescribed by reason, without internal commotion, it cares little for the foreign wars of envy, malice, and the world.

Numerous indeed are the domestic comforts and incidental pleasures of life which are built on the ground work of love, charity, good nature, complacency and cheerfulness of mind. I am just in the humour to enumerate some of them as very agreeable. A pleasant walk in summer with an intelligent and lively female; a tete-a-tete by a comfortable fire side. with the same subject; the endearments of children; the conversation of a man of merit; a visit to the poor, or sick; to snatch from cruel persecution the hunted animal, be it a dog or a cat; to repress undue influence; to oppose the cruelty of power; to assert the cause of the injured, are things that afford the best entertainment to a rational mind. Then let man look round, and let me ask him if there are no agreeable things in life? Does not hope still attend him as a morning star? Does not nature open her bounteous stores to bless him? Let him observe the rising of the glorious sun, and view the pure azure of the firmament; listen to the lark, ascending the acclivity of the hill to meet the healthful breeze, and then return to his domestic comforts, and say if he is unhappy. Hast thou no wife, no sister, no children, no neighbours to


form a little social compact? Have all thy friends been false, or is it the unevennesses and inconstancies of thine own disposition that have disgusted thee with life?

There are, however, always to be found in society, a set of people who appear, as if intended by providence, to prove to us the blessings of peace and goodwill, and who are in a constant state of warfare with themselves and the rest of the world. These are the proud, the peevish, the surly, the tenacious, the capricious, and the hypochondriac. The proud man has the exclusive privilege of being solitarily miserable, and only disturbs society when society attempts to disturb his consequence. The peevish man is not so reserved; he answers every thing, but it is with a pettishness that gives pain and disgust. The surly man is a brute, that snarls and bites at every thing within his reach. The capricious man is worth nothing, unless you could buy in and sell out of his friendship as you do Bank stock. The tenacious man is offensive to society, because he catches at what was never meant, and disturbs good company by his bad manners. chondriac is scarcely more sufferable; he is always complaining, always ill; and, except that he eats, drinks, and sleeps just as well as other people, you would fancy as he does--that he is dying. One of these profest hypochondriacs took it into his head that one part of his body was made of glass; no persuasion, no argument could convince him to the contrary, until, luckily, one day his servant happened to displace his chair from behind him, when the hypochondriac fell

The hypobackwards on that particular part to the ground, when' rubbing it, with astonishment he exclaimed, very seriously, “ Well, now I am convinced that it is not made of glass.”

The ignorant are another teizing and tormenting class of society. I do not mean to apply that ignorance which wears the countenance of modest inquiry, or that of the man whose knowledge of the human heart, and of the world, is frequently more than an equivalent for erudition. My satire will be levelled at the vain presumptuous blockhead who gets upon the shoulders of another, or mounts upon the stilts of his own absurd miscomprehension, and fancies he is very great indeed; to see this urchin fallen in the dirt, is a triumph whenever it happens, and another of the agreeable incidents of life.

So widely do men differ in their opinions of happiness from their relative situations in life, that Pecunius often declares, that there is nothing that can be called misery or misfortune, but the being in debt; and Connubius asserts, that there is no real ill but matrimony. Pecunius is so tender upon the subject of his personal inconveniencies, that a friend, who called in one morning, happening to say, that he had got into hot water, Pecunius replied, “ Hot water, sir! why I am perfectly parboiled.” And Connubius never is introduced to a stranger, but he enquires if he is married; so that, in truth, the old proverb, that nobody knows where the shoe pinches but the wearer, has a great deal of truth, and perhaps some rooted care may fester in the

breasts of many who appear at ease. .

Fallacius had a fine house, parks, and lawns, carriages and servants; his friend Merodius, who had, for the first time, paid him a visit after his marriage, flattered him on the advantages of fortune which he possessed, and exclaimed, “Oh, Fallacius, how happy you must be, circumstanced as you are, with all the blessings of life.” Fallacius only answered, “ Merodius, you don't know." The sumptuous repast was now ready, and Merodius sat down to it. The lady of the house was at the head of the table, and engaged her guests, with smiles of affability, to partake of the feast. The beautiful Lucretia was courteous, was attentive; but the beautiful Lucretia was tipsey. She had applied early in the morning, as she was accustomed to do, to the rich stores of her husband's cellar, thrown open upon the occasion. Her fine eyes sparkled, it is true, but it was with the fluid of the grape; her action was graceful, it is true, but somewhat unsteady. Some discreet ladies had the kindness to say, that she was ill; but this friendship only made the worse. The beautiful Lucretia opened the torrent of abuse, insisted that nothing was the matter, and fell into hysterics, until she was removed to her bed; after this Fallacius asked his friend, if he thought him so completely happy. Fallacius had married for a large fortune,

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