The heart's insanity admits no cure. Enrag'd the more, by what might have reform'd His horrible intent, again he fought Destruction, with a zeal to be destroy'd, With sounding whip, and rowels died in blood. But still in vain. The Providence, that meant A longer date to the far nobler beast, Spar'd yet again th'ignobler, for his fake. . And now, his prowess prov'd, and his sincere Incurable obduracy evinc’d, His rage grew cool; and, pleas’d perhaps & have eai So cheaply the renown of that attempt, With looks of some complacence he resum'd His road, deriding much the blank amaze Of good Evander, still where he was left: Fixt motionless, and petrified with dread. So on they far'd. Discourse on other themes Ensuing, seem'd t obliterate the past; And, tamer far for so much fury shown, (As is the course of rash and fiery men)

The rude companion smil'd, as if transformi’d. -
But 'twas a transient calm. A storm was near,. ,
An unsuspected storm. His hour was come.
The impious challenger of Pow'r divine
Was now to learn that Heav'n, though now to wrath,
Ís never with impunity defied.
His horse, as he had caught his master's mood,
Snorting, and starting into sudden råge,
Unbidden, and not now to be controld; it
Rush'd to the cliff, and, having reach'd it, stood. :-?
At once the shock unseated him : he few in
Sheer o'er the craggy barrier; and, immers'd. In
Deep in the flood, found, when he sought it not,
The death he had deserv'd and died alone! .....
So God wrought double justice ; made the fool
The victim of his own tremendous choice, .
And taught a brute the way to safe' revenge.

I would not enter on my list of friends (Though grac'd with polish?d manners and fine sense,

Yet wanting sensibility) the man
Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.
An inadvertent step may crush the snail
That crawls at ev’ning in the public path ;
But he that has humanity, forewarn’d,
Will tread aside, and let the reptile live.
The creeping vermin, loathsome to the fight,
And charg'd perhaps with venom, that intrudes,
A visitor unwelcome into scenes
Sacred to neatness and repose--th’ alcove,
The chamber, or refectory-may die:
A necessary act incurs no blame. com
Not so when, held within their proper bounds,
And guiltless of offence, they range the air,
Or take their pastime in the spacious field:
There they are privileg’d; and he that hunts
Or harms them there is guilty of a wrong,
Disturbs th’economy of nature's realm,
Who, when she form’d, design’d them an abode.
The sum is this.-- If man's convenience, health,

WINTER WALK AT NOON. 261 Or safety, interfere, his rights and claims. Are paramount, and must extinguish their's. Else they are all—the meanest things that are As free to live, and to enjoy that life, As God was free to form them at the first, Who, in his fov’reign wisdom, made them all. Ye, therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons To love it too. The spring-time of our years, Is soon dishonour'd and defild in most By budding ills, that ask a prudent hand To check them. But, alas! none sooner shoots, If unrestrain’d, into luxuriant growth,

Than cruelty, most dev'lish of them all. Mercy to him that shows it, is the rule And-righteous limitation of its act, By which Heav'n moves in pard’ning guilty man; And he that shows none, being ripe in years, And conscious of the outrage he commits, Shall seek it, and not find it, in his turn.

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Distinguish'd much by reason, and still more
By our capacity of grace divine,
From creatures that exist but for our fake,
Which, having serv'd us, perish, we are held
Accountable; and God, some future day,
Will reckon with us roundly for th' abuse
Of what he deems no mean or trivial trust.
Superior as we are, they yet depend
Not more on human help than we on their’s.
Their strength, or speed, or vigilance, were giv'n
In aid of our defects. In some are found
Such teachable and apprehensive parts,
That man's attainments in his own concerns,
Match'd with th' expertness of the brutes in their's,
Are oft-times vanquish'd and thrown far behind.
Some show that nice fagacity of smell,
And read with such discernment, in the port
And figure of the man, his secret aim,

That oft we owe our safety to a skill
We could not teach, and must despair to learn.

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