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of the Spectators, feem to be hovering over the dishes. Wine, the great purveyor of pleasure, and the fecond in rank among the fenfes, offers his fervice, when love takes his leave. It is natural to catch hold of every help, when the fpirits begin to droop. Love and wine are good cordials, but are not proper for the beverage of common ufe. Refolve not to go to-bed on a full meal. A light fupper and a good confcience are the best receipts for a good night's reft; and the parents of undisturbing dreams. Not to be enervated by the flatulency of tea. Let the fecond or third morning's thought be to confider of the employment for the day; and one of the laft at night to enquire what has been done in the courfe of it. Not to let one's tongue run at the expence of truth. Not to be too communicative nor unreserved. A clofe tongue, with an open countenance, are the fafeft paffports through the journey of the world. To correct the error of too much talking, and restrain the narrativeness of the approaching climacteric. To take the good-natured fide in converfation. However, not to praise every body, for that is to praife no body. Not to be inquifitive, and eager to know fecrets, nor be thought to have a head full of other people's affairs. Not to make an enemy, nor to lofe a friend. To aim at the esteem of the public, and to leave a good name behind. Not to be fingular in drefs, in behaviour, in notions, or expreffions of one's thoughts. Never to give bad advice, and to frive not to fet a bad example. Seldom to give advice till afked, for it appears like giving fomething that is fuperfluous to one's felf. Not to like or diflike too much at first fight. Not to wonder, for all wonder is ignorance

that poffeffion falls fhort of expectation. The longing of twenty years may be difappointed in the unanfwered gratification of a fingle hour. Whilft we are withing, we fee the best fide; after we have taken poffeffion, the worst. Refolved, to attend to the arguments on both fides: and to hear every body against every body. The mind ought not to be made up, but upon the best evidence. To be affectionate to relations, which is a kind of felf-love, in preference to all other acquaintance. But not to omit paying the commanding refpect to merit, which is fuperior to all the accidental chains of kindred. Not to debilitate the mind by new and future compofitions. Like the fpider, it may fpin itself to death. The mind, like the field, must have its fallow feafon. The leifure of the pen has created honourable acquaintance, and pleafed all it has wifhed to pleafe. To refolve, not to be too free of promises, for performances are fometimes very difficult things. Not to be too much alone, nor to read, nor meditate, or talk too much on points that may awaken tender fenfations, and be too pathetic for the foul. To enjoy the prefent, not to be made too unhappy by reflection on the past, nor to be oppreffed by invincible gloom on the future. To give and receive comfort, thofe neceffary alms to a diftreffed mind. To be conftantly thankful to Providence for the plenty hitherto poffeffed, which has preferved one from the dependence on party, perfons, and opinions, and kept one out of debt. The appearance of a happy fituation, and opportunities of tafting many worldly felicities (for content has feldom perverted itself into difcontent), has induced many to conclude, that one must be pleased


with one's lot in life; and it occafions many to look with the eye of innocent envy. To refolve more than ever, o fhun every public ftation and refponfibility of conduct. To be fatisfied with being mafter of one's felf, one's habits, now a fecond nature, and one's time. Determined not to fol cit, unless trampled upon by fo tune, to live and die in the harness of trade, or a pr feffion. To take care that p ty, huma ity is not here meant, does not find out one in the endurance of any calan ity. When pity is within call, contempt is not far off No to wish to have a greater hold of life, nor to quit that hold. The poffible tenure of existence is of too

fhort poffeffion for the long night that is to fucceed: therefore not a moment to be.lo. Not to lofe fight, even for a fingle day, of these good and proverbial doctors-diet

merryman-and quiet. Refolve, to remember and to recommend, towards tranquillity and longevity, the three oral maxims of fir Hans Sloane-" Never to quarrel with one's felf one's wife or one's prince." Laftly, not to put one's felf too much in the power of the elements, thofe great enemies to the human frame; namely, the funthe wind-the rain-and the night air.” MEMORY.



The VILLAGE FREEHOLDER. [From the News Paper, a Poem, by Mr. CRABEE.]

OR here th' infectious rage for party flops,

N along from to

Our weekly journals o'er the land abound,
And spread their plagues and influenzas round;
The village too, the peaceful, pleasant plain,
Breeds the whig-farmer and the tory-fwain;
Brooks' and St. Alban's boasts not, but instead
Stares the Red Ram, and fwings the Rodney's head:
Hither, with all a patriot's care, comes he
Who owns the little hut that makes him free;
Whofe yearly forty thillings buy the smile
Of mightier men, and never waste the while;
Who feels his freehold's worth, and looks elate,
A little prop and pillar of the state.

Here he delights the weekly news to con,
And mingle comments as he blunders on;
To fwallow all their varying authors teach,
To spell a title, and confound a speech:
Till with a muddled mind he quits the news,
"And claims his nation's licence to abuse;
Then joins the cry, "that all the courtly race
Strive but for power, and parley but for place;"
Yet hopes, good man! "that all may still be well,"
And thanks the stars that he's a vote to fell.

While thus he reads or raves, around him wait
A ruftic band, and join in each debate;
Partake his manly fpirit, and delight

To praife or blame, to judge of wrong or right;
Measures to mend, and ministers to make,
Till all go madding for their country's fake.


What KIND of COMPOSITION a NEWS PAPER is, and the AMUSEMENT it affords.

[From the fame Poem.]


Such various fubjects in so small a space?
As the first fhip upon the waters bore
Incongruous kinds that never met before;
Or as fome curious virtuofo joins,

In one finall room, moths, minerals, and coins,
Birds, beafts, and fishes; nor refutes place
To ferpents, toads, and all the reptile race:
So here, comprefs'd within a fingle fheet,
Great things and fmall, the mean and mighty meet ;..
'Tis this which makes all Europe's bufinefs known,
Yet here a private man may place his own;
And where he reads of lords and commons, he
May tell their honours that he fells rappee.

Add next th' amufement which the motley page
Affords to either fex and every age:
Lo! where it comes before the chearful fire,
Damps from the prefs in fmoky curls afpire
(As from the earth the fun exhales the dew)
Ere we can read the wonders that ensue:
Then eager every eye furveys the part,
That brings its favourite fubject to the heart;
Grave politicians look for facts alone,
And flighting theirs, make comments of their own;
The fprightly nymph, who never broke her reft
For tottering crowns, or mighty lands opprefs'd,
Finds broils and battles, but neglects them all
For fongs and fuits, a birth-day, or a ball:
The keen warm man o'erlooks each idle tale
For "monies wanted," and "eftates on fale;"
While the fly widow, and the coxcomb fleek,
Dive deep for fcandal through a hint oblique.

So charm the news; but we, who far from town
Wait till the poftman brings the packet down,
Once in the week a vacant day behold,
And stay for tidings till they're three days old:
Hence on that morn no welcome poft appears,
That lucklefs morn a fullen afpect wears;
We meet, but ah! without our wonted fimile,
To talk of headachs, and complain of bile;
Sullen we ponder o'er a dull repaft,
Nor feast the body while the mind must fast.

Such reflefs paffion is the love of news,
Worfe than an itch for mufic or the mufe:

Give poets claret, they grow idle foon;
Feed the musician, and he's out of tune;
But the fick mind, of this difeafe poffefs'd,
Has neither chance for cure, nor inter als of rest.

Such powers have things fo vile, and they can boast
That those perufe them who de pife them molt.


[From Mr. POTTER'S Oracle concerning Babylon, and the Song of Exultation, from Ifaiah, chap. xiii. xiv.]


HE fpoil-gorg'd city is no more;
The proud oppreffor of the nations falls,
Sunk in the duft her towred walls :
Her vanquish'd monarch welters in his gore;
Jehovah from his impious hand

Hath rent the enfign of command,
That iron fceptre, whofe impetuous force
Smote empires trembling at his rage.

The Earth exulting views his breathless corfe,
And Peace recalls her golden age;
Chearful burst forth their fhouts of joy,

"Thy furious hand no more shall bleeding realms deftroy.*

The lordly Lebanon waves high

The ancient honours of his facred head;

Their branching arms his cedars spread,
His pines triumphant fhoot into the sky:
"Tyrant, no barb'rous axe invades,
"Since thou art fall'n, our unpierc'd fhades."
To meet thee, Hades roufes from beneath,
An iron fmile his visage wears;

He calls through all the drear abodes of Death;
His call each mighty chieftain hears;

And fceptred kings of empires wide

Rife from their lofty thrones, and thus accoft thy pride.

Is this weak form of flirting air

The potent lord that fill'd th' Affyrian throne?
Thus are thy vaunted glories gone?

Where thy rich feasts, thy fprightly viols where?
Beneath thee is corruption fpread,
And worms the covering of thy bed?

How art thou fall'n, bright star of orient day,
How fall'n from thy ætherial height,

Son of the Morning! Thou, whofe fanguine ray

Glared terribly a baleful light;

War kindled at the blaze, and wild

Rufh'd Slaughter, Havoc rufh'd, their robes with blood defil'd.

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