by thwarting him, and rendering his situation uneasy, to drive him, if possible, from the country." By perseverance, he overcame these difficulties; and in 1736, Connecticut could enumerate not less than seven hundred episcopal families.

The degree of D. D. was conferred on Mr. Johnson, in 1743, by Oxford. In 1754, he accepted the office of president of a college, then just founded at New York, and quitted his congregation with much reluctance. "His parting with his people was very affectionate, and one of the most difficult tasks he had ever undertaken. He had lived with them for upwards of thirty years, and nothing could have reconciled his mind and conscience to leaving them, but strong hopes of becoming more extensively useful to his fellow creatures, in an affair of so much importance as education undoubtedly is, especially in a place where a public seminary of learning was so greatly wanted." After nine years, however, he resigned his office as President, and returned to his old charge, over which he continued until his death.

"On the morning of Jan. 6, 1772, the most glorious Epiphany he ever beheld, he conversed with his family on the subject of his own death, with the greatest cheerfulness and serenity. Among other things he said, 'that, although he seemed to be little indisposed, yet he found his strength failing him, and he must soon leave them, but he was going home,'-adding such exhortations as were suitable to the subject of his discourse. He expressed his wishes that he might resemble in the manner of his death, his good friend,

Bishop Berkeley, whom he had greatly loved, and whose exit he had ever esteemed happy.' Heaven granted his wish, for very soon after he had uttered these words, like the good bishop, he instantaneously expired in his chair, with_ out the least struggle or groan; so that he may rather be said to have been changed, or translated, than to have died; for he felt none of the agonies of death; he underwent no struggle that was sufficient to discompose the pleasing serenity of his countenance."

After his ordination and return to America, Dr. Johnson employed his energies in endeavouring to obtain bishops to that country. He corresponded with bishops Gibson and Sherlock, and with archbishop Secker on the subject, but although these prelates favored his views, the object was not effected during his life.

A FATHER'S LOVE.*

In answer to the Lines on "A Mother's Love," by Mrs. Hemans.

NAY, Lady, nay!-a Mother's Love thou knowest,

And thou hast told it well, at least hast told

What is maternal tenderness;-but thou

Hast failed to image forth a Father's Love.

"It is but pride," thou sayest, wherewith he turns
His eye to trace advancing Infancy,

This affecting effusion of a Father's heart was written by a gentleman of Aberdeen, (a personal friend of the Editor's,) and published in a periodical work, whose circulation was so small, that the piece may be considered as an original.

But, Lady, has a Mother no such pride,—

No such anticipations of the day,

When he, who now hangs on her gentle breast,

Shall far out-peer his schoolmates, and shall grace

The pulpit, or the senate, or the bar ?——

Yes, Lady-and a Father has a heart,

If not so soft as thine, susceptible

Of tender thoughts and sympathetic love.

What though “ his breast the pillow has not been
Of infancy"?-His knees have dandled oft
His smiling boy; and then, O think not he
Has no "glad heavings in his heart"!-And when
He witnesses the Mother's tender cares-
Her anxious watchings, when the latest star
“Has set, and dazzling morn in triumph broke”
On her dim, weary eye;-aud sees her fade

Through ceaseless care and watching;-think not then,
He has no tender sympathies to spare.

Nor, when "soft utterance" from the mimic lips

Of one who just begins to cry" Papa!"

With rapture fills the fondling Mother's ear,
Think then there's not another shares the joy.
In joyless hours, a Father, too, has tears
To mingle with a mother's, when he sees
His helpless darling suffer, and beholds
The fading bloom upon his little cheek,
And weakness stealing o'er his flabby limbs,
Portending what he fain would ward away.
And, when the object of solicitude
Is snatch'd away, and lowly laid, Alas!
Not in his cradle-bed-he needs it not,
But in his shorter bed beneath the sod,

That has not yet begun to spring anew;

It is not then a Father's levelled " pride"
That swells, and swells, and ready seems to burst
A bosom now too narrow to contain

The big emotion, gushing forth in tears.

He casts his moistened eye the chamber round,
In which so many feelings, new to him,
Were born and cherished; but that chamber now,
Seems strangely large, and strangely desolate,
And strangely dull-a nursery no more!

Say, Lady, say-Is it "but pride wherewith
To his lov'd boy the Father's eye doth turn"
To view," as heir of his great name, the young
And stately tree, whose rising strength ere long
Shall bear his trophies well"?-Nay, Lady, nay!

D

THE NEW POOR LAW GUARDIANSHIP.

THE lapse of twelve months has enabled us to view the operation of the vast machine intended to counteract the mischievous effects of the old laws respecting the poor of this country. The experiment, which looked well in theory, has not failed in practice; and, although its remote bearings have yet to be developed, it is likely to confer lasting honour on its projectors.

There is one part of the system, among others, which will require the most sedulous watchfulness from the public at large, in order to secure its healthy and legitimate operation; we mean the provision for the election of Guardians. This is all that the new laws possess of a democratic character, and if rightly used, will be sufficient to correct the

undue influence of other principles; but if this be neglected, the whole system may teem with monstrous abuses.

From the experience this country has had of the evils arising from bodies of men in public stations electing their successors or coadjutors, it is to be hoped, no such power will be put into the hands of the Guardians, by allowing the popular part of the act to be inoperative. Let all well wishers to the British constitution, and more immediately, all friends to the working of the new system of poor laws, keep the boards of guardians from becoming corporations. We can easily shew this will be the case, unless new elections often take place, and unless such persons are chosen as are pledged to principles of reform in their respective parishes.

Unless new elections are made, the Boards will be quickly subjected to those influences, which have always been found to render stationary bodies of men, less and less effective in the discharge of their duties. We believe the gentlemen composing the Boards of Guardians are well disposed towards the poor, and in every way desirous to benefit the public at large. But such is human nature, that if we wish them to retain these characters, they must be agitated. Left to do as they please, their pleasure will sooner or later be modified by habit and custom; precedent will take place of utility, until business comes to be conducted according to the rigid letter of old regulations, rather than with a reference to expediency, and the exigences of particular cases. Throw some new materials every year into this vital mass, and it cannot become stagnant.

Not only must new Guardians be elected, they must also be chosen by the inhabitants of unions or parishes, who are competent to vote. As there is no "self-denying ordinance" to prohibit Guardians from nominating, and as many of the Guardians are men of influence as Magistrates and Clergymen, they will expect sometimes to succeed in naming their colleagues; sometimes this will be proper, but it must not be done always, or even frequently. Men thus nominated,