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The original of them we may suppose to be this. God being pleased to admit the holy patriarchs into conference with him, the devil endeavoured to do the same ; and, to retain men in their obedience to him, he pretended to make discoveries of secret things. Ayam, when God was pleased to work miracles for the confirmation of the trutu, the devil in like manner, directed those who were familiar with him how to invoke his help, for the performance of such strange things, as might confirm the world in their error.
There are two ways, wherein we may imagine it in the devil's power to be assistant to such persons, as pretend to work miracles. First, by raising false images and appearances of things; which may be done, either by, affecting the brain, or confusing the optic nerves, or altering the mediam, which is between us and the object. Secondly, he may be supposed able to assist magicians, by making use of the laws of nature, in producing effects, which are not above the natural power of things; though they certainly exceed what man can do. Thus, to transport a body, with inconceivable rapidity, from one place to another; to bring together different productions of nature, which, separately, have no väsible effect, but when united, work wonders : to make images inove, walk, speak, and the like; these may come within the compass of the devil's power, because not transcending the laws of nature: though we cannot discern by what means they are effected.
There is a farther supposition of some learned men; that, under the divine permission, wicked spirits have a power to work real miracles, of which ihey perceive some intimations given in scripture. See Deut. xiii. 1. Matt. xxiv. 24. 2 Thess. ii. 9.
THE CURSE OF LAURA UPON HER SEDUCER.
LET THE LIBERTINE TREMBLE-WEEP AND REPENT.
From these black regions, these infernal plains,
While yet from these distracting torments free,
Thy guileful arts allur'd me first astray,
Ye powers! seize him, send your lightoings forth; And instant sweep him shrieking from the earth; In tbese blue flames immerse his blacken'd soul, Where I may see him writhe, and hear him bowl : This comfort on my tortur'd soul bestow : His cries shall somewhat mitigate my woe.
Didst thou not teach me once to scorn these chains, And laugh at “ bell's imaginary pains?” O could I but one dismal glance impart, And pour a flaming torrent to thy heart! My fellow-ghosts your awful doom declare, And howl, in horrid potes, the pains ye bear; Unfold your anguish, all your tortures tell, And paint a dreadful picture of this hell.
But, why would my infernal pen reveal
Still to imbitter all the woes I feel,
Far from my gloomy cavern I beheld
I too, with thein, had trod yon shiping plain, Where endless joy, and peace celestial reign; Had not my youth, by thy false friendship led, Pursued thy steps !-- Perdition on thy head! Wben will the bour arrive, to wast thee o'er, And give thy spirits to this doleful shore? May thronging demons round thy bed appear, And breathe their curses in thy tingling ear ; Whisper the horrid secrets of thy doom. Then furious drag thee to thy loathsome bome! And, wben arriv'd on this terrific plain, Thou hearst me clash my adamantine chain : Before my ghost thy frighted youl shall flee, And find no fury half so fierce as me. Swift I'll pursue thee to thy dark retreat, And tear thy heart from its unballow'd seat; Thrice dip it deep where flaming billows roar, And thrice I'll dash it on the glowing shore ; Then fling it blazing to the furies' scorn, Midst clouds of suffocating sulphur borne ; Whose ready bands, warne:1 hy iny vengeful look, Shall fix it quivering to some burning rock; That every passing fiend may hurl his dart, And pierce it with unutterable smart : While I pursue thee through the dreary shade, And pour my keep reproaches on thy head ; Blast thy sick sight, sting thee with fiercest pain, And furious dash thee with my sparkling chain. Where'er thou turn'st, my angry ghost shall fly, And haunt and curse thee through eternity.
THE MISER'S POND OF WATER.
Osce, on a time, a certain man was found,
Ile work'd and slav'd, and--Oh! how slow it alls!
Pour'd in by pailsulls, and took out--by gills!
In a wet season.---he would skip about, Placios, his buckets under every soul; From falling showers, collecting fresh supply, And grudging every cloud--that passed by; Cursing the treness of the tines, each hour, Altho' it rain't as fast as it could pour. Then he would wade thro' every dirty spot, Where any little moistur? lund be got; And when he had duo draining of a bog, Still kept himself as dirty as a hog : And cry'd, whene'er folks blam’d him, “ What do you mean? “ It costs a world of warcr, iu be clean!" If some poor neighbour crav'd to slake his thirst, "Whai-rob my pond ? I'll see the regue hang'd first: " A burning shame, these vermin of the poor “ Should creep unpunished thos about my door! • As if I had not frogs, and toads enoo', " That suck my pond, whatever I can do ?"
The sun still found him as he rose or set,
Sometimes--when forc'd to quit his aukward toil,
First for myself,-my daily charges here
Not but I could be well enough content
This life he led for niany a year together ;
What think you now, from this imperfect sketch,
Why 'lis a wreich, we think, of your own making,
The Brahman priests of a Hindoo college, confuted upon the sub
ject of their religion, by the Rev. Ur. Thomas. "In the month of January, 1792, I was returning from a journey on the River Ganges, and hoped by one tide more to reach Calcutta, but the tide flowing sooner than I expected, I was obliged to come to, about eight miles short of that place. It was about the middle of the day, and I thought to take a soļitary walk on shore. On landing, I saw no town or village