60 should invite you to his feast, when he offers a sacrifice,

what course would you take ?”—“I would first invite him to mine.” “And how would you induce him to take the charge of your affairs, when you are on a jour

ney ?”—“I should be forward to do the same good 65 office to him, in his absence." "If you be solicitous

to remove a prejudice, which he may have received against you, how would you then behave towards him ?"

C“ I should endeavour to convince him, by my looks,

words, and actions, that such prejudice was ill-founded.” 70 - And if he appeared inclined to reconciliation, would you reproach hin with the injustice he had done you ?" -"No," answered Demetrius ;

“ I would repeat no grievances.”

Go,” said Socrates, “and pursue that conduct towards your brother, which you would prac75 tise to a neighbour. His friendship is of inestimable

worth; and nothing is more lovely in the sight of Heaven, than for brethren to dwell together in unity.”

Percival.

51. Harley's Death. " There are some remembrances (said Harley) which rise involuntarily on my heart, and make me almost wish to live, I have been blessed with a few friends,

who redeem my opinion of mankind. I recollect, with 5 the tenderest emotion, the scenes of pleasure I have

passed among them--but we shall meet again, my friend, never to be separated. There are some feelings which perhaps are too tender to be suffered by the world. The

world, in general, is selfish, interested, and unthinking, 10 and throws the imputation of romance, or melancholy,

on every temper more susceptible than its own.
not but think, in those regions which I contemplate, if
there is any thing of mortality left about us, that these

feelings will subsist :they are called-perhaps they 15 are-weaknesses, here ;--but there may

be some better modifications of them in heaven, which may deserve the name of virtues.” He sighed, as he spoke these last words. He had scarcely finished them, when the door opened, and his aunt appeared, leading in Miss Walton.

I can

20 “My dear (says she) here is Miss Walton, who has

been so kind as to come and inquire for you berself.” I could perceive a transient glow upon his face. He rose from his seat.-—" If to know Miss Walton's good

ness (said he) be a title to deserve it, I have some 25 claim.” She begged bim to resume his seat, and plac

ed herself on the sofa beside him. I took my leave. His aunt accompanied me to the door. He was left with Miss Walton alone. She inquired anxiously after

his health. “I believe (said he) from the accounts 30 which my physicians unwillingly give me, that they have

no great hopes of my recovery.”--She started, as he spoke ; but, recollecting herself immediately, endeavoured to flatter him into a belief, that his apprehensions

were groundless. “I know (said be) that it is usual 35 with persons at my time of life, to have these hopes

which your kindness suggests; but I would not wish to be deceived. To meet death as becomes a man, is a privilege bestowed on few : I would endeavour to make

it mine :-nor do I think, that I can ever be better pre40 pared for it than now :- -'tis that chiefly, which deter

mines the fitness of its approach." "Those sentiments,' answered Miss Walton, are just; but your good sense, Mr. Harley, will own, that life has its proper value.

As the province of virtue, life is ennobled; as such, it 45 is to be desired.—To virtue has the Supreme Director

of all things assigned rewards enough, even here, to fix its attachments.

The subject began to overpower her.--Harley lifted up his eyes from the ground--" There are (said he,

in a low voice)--there are attachments, Miss Walton.” 50 - His glance met hers--they both betrayed a confu

sion, and were both_instantly withdrawn.--He paused some moments.-- I am (he said) in such a state as calls for sincerity: let that alone excuse it-it is, per

haps, the last time we shall ever meet. I feel some55 thing particularly solemn in the acknowledgment; yet

my heart swells to make it, awed as it is by a sense of my presumption, --by a sense of your perfections."-He paused again--"Let it not offend you, (he resumed,)

to know their power over one so unworthy. My heart 60 will, I believe, soon cease to beat, even with that feel.

ing which it shall lose the latest.— To love Miss Walton could not be a crime.--If to declare it is one, the expiation will be made.”

Her tears were now fowing without control.—" Let me entreat you (said she) to 65 have better hopes—let not life be so indifferent to you ;

if my wishes can put any value upon it, I will not pretend to misunderstand you--I know your worth-I have long known it-I have esteemed it—what would you

have me say?--I have loved it, as it deserved !!! He 70 seized her hand :--a languid colour reddened his cheek

--a smile brightened faintly in his eye. As he gazed on her, it grew dim, it fixed, it closed--he sighed, and fell back on his seat-Miss Walton screamed at the

sight-his aunt and the servants rushed into the room 75 —they found them lying motionless together.--His phy

sician happened to call at that instant--every art was tried to recover them--with Miss Walton they succeeded--but Harley was gone for ever.

Mackenzie.

To-morrow, didst thou say ?
Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow.
Go to I will not hear of it-To-morrow.

'Tis a sharper, who stakes his penury
5 Against thy plenty--who takes thy ready cash,

And pays thee nought but wishes, hopes and promises,
The currency of idiots--injurious bankrupt,
That gulls the easy creditor !-To-morrow!

It is a period no where to be found 10 In all the hoary registers of Time,

Unless, perchance, in the fool's calendar.
Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society
With those who own it. No, my Horatio,

'Tis Fancy's child, and Folly is its father; 15 Wrought of such stuff as dreams are, and as baseless

As the fantastic visions of the evening.

But soft, my friend--arrest the present moment ;

For be assur'd, they all are arrant tell-tales :

And though their fight be silent, and their path 20 Trackless as the winged couriers of the air,

They post to heaven, and there record thy folly,
Because, though station'd on th’ important watch,
Thou, like a sleeping, faithless sentinel,

Didst let them pass unnotic'd, unimprov'd.
25 And know, for that thou slumb’rest on the guard,

Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar
For every fugitive: and when thou thus
Shalt stand impleaded at the high tribunal

Of hood-wink'd Justice, who shall tell thy audit ! 30 Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio,

Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings.
'Tis of more worth than kingdoms ! far more precious
Than all the crimson treasures of life's fountain.

O ! let it not elude thy grasp ; but, like
35 The good old patriarch upon record,
Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee.

Cotton,

53. The Perfect Orator. Imagine to yourselves a Demosthenes, addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point whereon the fate of the most illustrious of nations de

pended-How awful such a meeting ! how vast the sub5 ject !--Is man possessed of talents adequate to the great

occasion !--Adequate! Yes, superior. By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lost in the dignity of the orator ; and the importance of the

subject, for a while, superseded by the admiration of 10 his talents. With what strength of argument, with what

powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he assault and subjugate the whole man; and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his pas

sions! -To effect this, must be the utmost effort of 15 the most improved state of human nature.--Not a fac- '

ulty that he possesses, is here unemployed; not a faculty that he possesses, but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his ex

ternal, testify their energies. Within, the memory, the 20 fancy, the judgment, the passions, are all busy: with

out, every muscle, every nerve is exerted; not a feature, not a limb, but speaks. The organs of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, through the kin

dred organs of the hearers, instantaneously vibrate those 25 energies from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diver

sity of minds in such a multitude ; by the lightning of eloquence, they are melted into one mass--the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become,

as it were, but one man, and have but one voice - The 30 universal cry is--LET US MARCH AGAINST PHILIP, LET LIBERTIES LET US CONQUER OR DIE!

Sheridan.

US FIGHT FOR OUR