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;-and 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,