Yet how little it appears
Like the lapse of twenty years.

Still thy cheek is round and fair,
'Mid thy curls not one grey hair;
Not one lurking sorrow lies,
In the lustre of those eyes;
Thou hast felt, since last we met,
No affliction, no regret :-
Wonderful! to shed no tears
In the lapse of twenty years.-

But what means that changing brow,
Tears are in those dark eyes now;
Have my rash incautious words
Wakened feeling's slumbering chords?
Where dost thou bid me look,-
At yon dark-bound journal book?
There the register appears,
Of the lapse of twenty years.

Thou hast been a happy bride,
Kneeling by a lover's side,
And unclouded was thy life,
As his loved and loving wife;
Thou hast worn the garb of gloom,
Kneeling by thy husband's tomb;
Thou hast wept a widow's tears,
In the lapse of twenty years.

Oh, I see my error now,
To suppose in cheek and brow,
Strangers may presume to find
Treasured secrets of the mind;
There fond memory still will keep
Her vigil, when she seems to sleep,
Though composure re-appears,
In the lapse of twenty years.

Where's the hope that can abate
The grief of hearts thus desolate,-
That can youth's keenest pangs assuage,
And mitigate the gloom of age?
Religion bids the tempest cease,
And leads her to a port of peace ;
And on the lonely pilot steers,
Through the lapse of future years.

JEREMY COLLIER says, "I have no intention to argue against gold chains, velvet caps, or sables, or anything of this nature; but, granting this furniture may be somewhat of a guard to authority, yet no public person has any reason to value himself upon it: for the design of this sort of state is only to comply with the weakness of the multitude. It is an innocent stratagem to deceive them into their duty, and to awe them into a just sense of obedience. A great man will rather contemn this kind of finery, than think himself considerable by it. He will rather be sorry that his authority needs the support of so little an artifice,

and depends, in any measure, upon the use of such trifles. To stoop to the vulgar notion of things, and establish one's reputation by counterfeit signs of worth, must be an uneasy task to a noble mind. Besides, we are not to think the magistrate cannot support his office without fine clothes; for, if he is furnished with general prudence, with abilities particular to his business, and has a competent share of power, he needs not doubt his influence over the people."

ЕРІТАРН.

BEHOLD this silent tomb, which doth embrace
A virtuous wife, with Rachel's lovely face,-
Sarah's obedience, Lydia's open heart,

Martha's good care, and Mary's better part.

THERE is nothing so strongly cements society; nothing makes it flower and flourish so much as a hearty regard to the public good. It is general kindness and good-will which establishes the peace, and promotes the prosperity of a people. To say, this disposition keeps men just and inoffensive, is too mean a commendation. It improves their practice much higher, and makes them munificent and obliging. Without this virtue the public union must unloose, the strength decay, and the pleasure grow faint and languid. And can we suppose that God would underfurnish man for the state he designed him, and not afford him a soul large enough to pursue his happiness ?-that he should give him solitary principles, and yet intend him for pub

lic converse?-create him so that he shall naturally care for nothing but himself, and at the same time make his interest depend upon mutual affection and good correspondence with others? Is it imaginable that such a comprehensive wisdom, which has made all things, in number, weight, and measure; secured the preservation of brutes by instinct and sympathy, and made so fair a provision for the inferior world,—is it to be conceived, I say, that so glorious a Providence should not proportion the faculties of his noblest creatures, but send them into being with inclinations unsuitable to the condition they must necessarily be placed in? J. Collier.

ON THE SLAVERY OF VICE.

FIRST, it is a bondage to which the mind itself, the native seat of liberty, is subjected. In other cases, a brave man can comfort himself with reflecting that, let tyrants do their worst, let prisons or fetters be his lot, his mind remains unconquered and free. Of this liberty they cannot rob him; here he moves in a higher sphere, above the reach of oppression or confinement. But what avails the show of internal liberty, to one who has lost the government of himself? As our Saviour reasons, in another case, 'If the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness?' So we may reason here, if that part of thy nature, thy mind, thy will, by which only thou canst enjoy and relish liberty, be itself in bondage to evil passions and habits, how miserable must be that bondage? Next,

it is aggravated by this consideration, that it is a bondage which we have brought upon ourselves. To have been forced into slavery, is misfortune and misery. But to have renounced our liberty, and chosen to be slaves, is the greatest reproach, added to the greatest misery. Moments there frequently must be, when a sinner is sensible of the degradation of his state; when he feels with pain the slavish dependence under which he is brought to fortune and the world, to violent passions, and settled habits, and to fears and apprehensions arising from conscious guilt. In such moments, how cruel is the reflection, that of all this disgrace and misery, he has been the author to himself; that, by voluntary compliance, he has given to his passions, that haughty ascendant, which they now exercise over him; has forged the chains with which he is bound, and sold himself to do iniquity? Lastly, The servitude of vice is accompanied with this further aggravation, that it is subjection to our own servants. Those desires and passions, which the sinner has raised to lawless rule, were given us as instruments of self-preservation, but were plainly designed to be under the direction of a higher power. Of themselves, they are headstrong and blind; they bear all the marks of intended subordination; and conscience is invested with every ensign of authority and supremacy. But sin inverts the whole of human nature. It compels reason to bow down before those passions which it was formed to command; and leads it, as it were, in triumph, to grace the shameful conquest of its minis