ex- cite their good | honor. | 7 7 7 7 7 The most ca- | lamitous events, | 7 7 | either to them- | selves 7 or others, | 7 can | bring | no | new affliction; | 77 | 7 the whole | world | 7 is to them, | 7 a theatre, 7 on which | comedies | only | 7 are ¦ acted. | 77 | 77 | All the | bustle of | heroism, | 7 or the rants of am- | bition, | 77 | serve heighten | 7 the ab- | surdity | 7 of the and make the humor | 7 more | poignant. | 77 | 77 | 7 They | feel, | 7 in | short, | 7 as | little | anguish | 7 at their | own dis- | tress, | 7 or the com- | plaints of others, 7 as the under- | taker, | 7 though dressed in | black, | feels | sorrow | 7 at a funeral. | 77 | 77 | only to | scene, | 7 7 Of all the men | 7I ever | read of, | 7 the | famous Cardinal de | Retz | 7 possessed this | happiness of temper | 7 in the | highest de- | gree. 7777 | As he was a man of | gallantry, | 7 and despised | 7 all that | wore the pe- | dantic ap- | pearance | 7 of phi- | losophy, | 7 where- | ever pleasure 7 was to be sold he was generally | foremost 7 to raise the | auction. | 77 | 77 |Being a uni- | versal | 7 ad- | mirer of the | fair | sex, 77 when he found one | lady | cruel, | 7 he | generally fell in | love | 7 with an- | other, | 7 from | whom he expected | 7 a more | favourable | 7 reception. | 77 | 77 | 7 If | she, too, | 7 re- | jected his ad- dresses, | 77 | 7 he | never thought of re- | tiring into | deserts, | 7 or | pining in | hopeless distress; 77 | he per- | suaded himself, | 7 that in- | stead of loving the | lady, 7 he had only fancied | 7 that he had | loved her; | 7 7 | 7 and | so, | all was well again. | 77 | 77 | 7 When | fortune | wore her | angriest | look, | 7 7 | and | he at | last | fell into the power | 7 of his most deadly enemy, 77 | Cardinal | Maza- | rine, | 77 (being con- | fined a | close | prisoner, | 7 in the castle of Valen- | ciennes,) | 7 he | never at- | tempted 7 to sup- | port his dis| his dis- | tress | 7 by | wisdom | 7 or phi- | losophy; | 77 | for he pre- | tended to neither. | 77 | 77 | 7 He | only | laughed | 7 at him- self | 7 and his | persecutor; | 77 | 7 and | seemed infinitely pleased | 7 at his new situ- | ation. | 77 | 77 | 7 In | this | mansion of dis- | tress, | 77 though se- |cluded from his friends, | 77 | 7 | though denied all the amusements, 7 and | even the con- veniences of life, | 7 he still re tained his good | humour: | 77 | laughed at | all the little | spite of his enemies: | 77 | 7 and | carried the jest so far as to be re- | venged, | 7 by | writing the life | 7 of his goaler. | 77 | 77 | All that the wisdom of the proud | 7 can | teach, is to be stubborn | 7 or | sullen, | under mis- | fortunes. | 77 | 77 | 7 The | Cardinal's ex- | ample | 7 will in- struct us to be | merry, | 7 in | circumstances | highest af- | fliction. | 77 | 77 | 7 It | mat 7 of the ters not strued whether our | good | humor | 7 be | con7 by others, | 7 into | insensi- | bility; | 7 or | even | idiotism: | 77 | 7 it is | happiness | 7 to our- | selves; | 7 7 7 and | none but a fool, | 7 would measure his satis- | faction | 7 by | what the world | thinks of it. | 77 | 77 | 7 The happiest | silly | fellow | 7 I ever | knew, │ was of the | that are number of those | good natured | creatures said to | do no | harm | 7 to | any but themselves. | 77 | 77 | 7 When- | ever he | fell into | any | misery, | 77 | 7 he | usually | called it | 77 |"Seeing | life." | 77 | 77 | 7 If his | head was | broke by a | chairman, | 7 or his | pocket | picked by a | sharper, | 7 he | comforted himself | 7 by | imitating | 7 the Hibernian | dialect | 7 of the | one, or the more fashionable | cant | 7 of the | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Nothing | came a- | miss to him. | 77 | 77 | 7 His | inattention to money matters | 7 in- | censed his father | 7 to | such a de- | gree, | 7 that | | all inter- | cession of | friends, | 7 in his favor, | 7 was fruitless. |77|77| 7 The old gentleman | was on his | death bed. | 77777 The | whole | family, | 7 and | Dick | 7 a mong the number, | 7 7 | gathered a- | round him. | 77777"I leave my second | son | Andrew," | said the ex- | piring | miser, | 7 "my | whole es- | tate ; | 777 and de- sire him | 7 to be | frugal." | 77 | 77 | Andrew, | 7 in a | sorrowful | tone, | 7 (as is | usual | 7 on those occasions,) | 7 7 | prayed | Heaven | 7 to 1 | pro-long his life and health | 7 to en- | joy it him- | self!|77|77| 66 7 I recommend | Simon, | 7 my | third | son, | 7 to the care of his elder brother; | 77 | 7 and | leave him | 7 be- side, | four | thousand | pounds." "Ah! | father," | 7 cried | Simon, | 7 (in | great af- | fliction, | 7 to be sure, ) | 7 "may | Heaven | give you | life and health | 7 to en- | joy it your- | self!" | 77 | I 771 7 At last turning to poor | Dick, | 77 |" as for | you, you have always | 7 been a | sad | dog; | 7.7 | you'll never come to good; | 77 | you'll never be | rich; 777 I leave you | 7 a | shilling, | 7 to buy a | halter." | 77 | 77 | “Ah! | father," | 7 cries | Dick, | 7 without | any emotion, | 7" may | Heaven | give you | life and health | 7 to enjoy it your- | self!" | 77 | 77 | A SUMMER EVENING'S MEDITATION. Mrs. Barbauld. 7 'Tis past; 7 7 the sultry | tyrant of the | south 7 | 7 Has spent his | short-lived | rage. 7 | 77 | 7 More | grateful hours Move silent on. 7 | 77 | 7 The | skies no | more re pel 7 | 7 The dazzled | sight; 7|77| But with | mild | maiden | beams 7 | 7 Of | temper'd | light, 7 | 7 in- | vite the | cherish'd | eye 7 | 7 To wander o'er their | sphere; 7 | where 7 | hung a loft, 7 | Dian's | bright | crescent, | like a | silver | bow 7 | New strung in | heaven, lifts | high | 7 its | beamy | horns, 7 | 7 Im- patient for the night, 7|7 and seems to | push 7 | 7 Her brother | down the sky. 7|77| Fair | Venus shines 7 | Even in the eye of | day; 7 | 7 with | sweetest | beam 7 ¦ 7 Pro- pitious | shines, and shakes a trembling | flood 7 7 Of soften'dradience | 7 from her dewy | locks. | 77 | 77 | 7 The shadows | spread a ¦ pace; 7 | 77 | 7 while | meeken'd | eve, 7 | 7 Her cheek yet | warm with | blushes, | slow re- I tires Through the Hes- | perian | gardens of the | west, 7 | 7 And | shuts the | gates of | day. 7 | 7 7 | 7 'Tis | now the hour 7 | 7 When contem- | plation | 7 (from her | sunless | haunts, | 7 The cool | damp | grotto, 77 | 7 or the lonely | depth 7 | 7 Of | unpierced | woods, 7 | where, 7 | wrapt in | si lent | shade, | 77 | 7 She ❘ mused a- | way the | gaudy | hours of | noon, 7 | 7 And fed on thoughts | un- | ripen'd by the | sun,) 7 | Moves forward; | 7 and with | radiant | finger | points 7 | | 7 To | yon blue | concave, | swell'd by | breath di- | vine: 77 Where, 7 | one by one, the living | eyes of | heaven | |