should have avoided their censure. The heat that offended them is the ardour of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country | which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress.

I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. | I will exert my endeavours, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor, and drag the thief to justice, | what power soever may protect the villany, and whoever may partake of the plunder. |

GENIUS.

(AKENSIDE.)

From heaven my strains begin; | from heaven descends
The flame of genius to the human breast, |

And love, and beauty, and poetic joy,
And inspiration. Ere the radiant sun

Sprang from the east, or 'mid the vault of night |
The moon suspended her serener lamp ; |

Ere mountains, woods, or streams adorn'd the globe, |
Or Wisdom taught the sons of men her lore; |
Then lived the Almighty ONE; then, deep retired,
In his unfathom'd essence, view'd the forms, |
The forms eternal of created things; |

The radiant sun, the moon's nocturnal lamp, |

The mountains, woods, and streams, the rolling globe,
And Wisdom's mien celestial. I

From the first
Of days, on them his love divine he fix'd, |
His admiration: | till, in time complete, |
What he admired and loved, | his vital smile
Unfolded into being. Hence the breath
Of life informing each organic frame, |

Hence the green earth, and wild resounding waves; |
Hence light and shade alternate; | warmth and cold,】
And clear autumnal skies, and vernal showers,
And all the fair variety of things.

But not alike to every mortal eye |

Is this great scene unveil'd. For, since the claims
Of social life, to different labours urge
The active powers of man, with wise intent |
The hand of Nature on peculiar minds |
Imprints a different bias, and to each
Decrees its province in the common toil. |
To some she taught the fabric of the sphere, |
The changeful moon, the circuit of the stars, |
The golden zones of heaven: to some she gave
To weigh the moment of eternal things, |
Of time, and space, and Fate's unbroken chain, |
And will's quick impulse; | others by the hand!
She led o'er vales and mountains, to explore
What healing virtue | swells the tender veins
Of herbs and flowers; or what the beams of morn
Draw forth, distilling from the clifted rind
In balmy tears.

But some to higher hopes
Were destin'd; some within a finer mould
She wrought, and temper'd with a purer flame: |
To these the Sire Omnipotent | unfolds

The world's harmonious volume, there to read The transcript of himself. On every part | They trace the bright impressions of his hand; | In earth or air, the meadow's purple stores, | The moon's mild radiance, or the virgin's form, | Blooming with rosy smiles, they see pourtray'd That uncreated beauty which delights

The Mind Supreme. They also feel her charms, Enamour'd; they partake the eternal joy. |

GREATNESS.

(AKENSIDE.)

Say, why was man so eminently raised |

Amid the vast creation? | why ordain'd

Thro' life and death to dart his piercing eye,

With thought beyond the limit of his frame, |
But that the Omnipotent might send him forth, |
In sight of mortal and immortal powers, |
As on a boundless theatre, to run

The great career of justice: | to exalt
His generous aim to all diviner deeds; |
To chase each partial purpose from his breast; |
And thro' the mists of passion and of sense,
And thro' the tossing tide of chance and pain, |
To hold his course unfaltering, while the voice
Of Truth and Virtue, | up the steep ascent
Of Nature, calls him to his high reward, |
The applauding smile of Heaven? |

Else wherefore burns

In mortal bosom this unquenched hope,

That breathes from day to day sublimer things, |
And mocks possession? | Wherefore darts the mind, }
With such resistless ardour | to embrace
Majestic forms, impatient to be free; |
Spurning the gross control of wilful might; |
Proud of the strong contention of her toils; |
Proud to be daring? Who but rather turns
To Heaven's broad fire his unconstrained view, I
Than to the glimmering of a waxen flame? |
Who that, from Alpine heights, his labouring eye
Shoots round the wide horizon, to survey
Nilus or Ganges rolling his bright wave |

Thro' mountains, plains, thro' empires black with shade,
And continents of sand, will turn his gaze |
To mark the windings of a scanty rill |

That murmurs at his feet? |

The high-born soul |
Disdains to rest her heaven aspiring wing ||
Beneath its native quarry. Tired of earth

And this diurnal scene, | she springs aloft
Thro' fields of air; pursues the flying storm; |
Rides on the volley'd lightning thro' the heavens; |
Or, yoked with whirlwinds and the northern blast, |

Sweeps the long tract of day.

Then high she soars
The blue profound, and hovering round the sun, |
Beholds him pouring the redundant stream
Of light; beholds his unrelenting sway |
Bend the reluctant planets to absolve

The fated rounds of time. Thence far effused |
She darts her swiftness up the long career
Of devious comets: | thro' its burning signs
Exulting measures the perennial wheel

Of Nature, and looks back on all the stars, |
Whose blended light, as with a milky zone, |
Invests the orient. I

Now amazed she views
The empyreal waste, where happy spirits hold, !
Beyond this concave heaven, their calm abode; |
And fields of radiance, whose unfading light |
Has travell'd the profound six thousand years, |
Nor yet arrives in sight of mortal things.
E'en on the barriers of the world untired
She meditates the eternal depth below, I
Till, half recoiling, down the headlong steep
She plunges; soon o'erwhelm'd and swallowed up |
1
In that immense of being. I

There her hopes Rest at the fatal goal: | for, from the birth Of mortal man, the sovereign Maker said, | That not in humble nor in brief delight, | Not in the fading echoes of renown, |

Power's purple robes, nor Pleasure's flowery lap, |
The soul should find enjoyment; | but, from these
Turning disdainful to an equal good, |

Thro' all the ascent of things enlarge her view, |
Till every bound at length should disappear, |
And infinite perfection close the scene.

PAPER.

[A CONVERSATIONAL PLEASANTRY.]

(FRANKLIN.)

Some wit of old | such wits of old there were, |
Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions care, |
By one brave stroke, to mark all human kind, |
Call'd clear blank paper ev'ry infant mind; |
Where, still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, |
Fair Virtue put a seal, or Vice, a blot. |
The thought was happy, pertinent, and true;|
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue.

I (can you pardon my presumption ?), | I,
No wit, no genius, yet, for once, will try. |
Various the paper, various wants produce ; |
The wants of fashion | elegance, and use. I
Men are as various; and if right I scan,
Each sort of paper represents some man. |
¡

Pray note the fop, half powder and half lace; |
Nice, as a band-box were his dwelling place; |
He's the gilt-paper, which apart you store, |
And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutoire."
Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, |
Are copy-paper, of inferior worth; |

Less priz'd, more useful, | for your desk decreed; |
Free to all pens, | and prompt at ev'ry need. |

The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare,
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, |

Is coarse brown paper, such as pedlars choose |
1
To wrap up wares, which better men will use. |
Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys |
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys; |