In simple manners all the secret lies,

Be kind and virtuous, you'll be blest and wise.
For what's true beauty, but fair virtue's face?
Virtue made visible in outward grace.

Few to good breeding make a just pretence:
Good breeding is the blossom of good sense,
The last result of an accomplish'd mind.

Can wealth give happiness? Look round and see What gay distress! what splendid misery!

Think nought a trifle, though it small appear;
Small sands the mountain, moments make the
And trifles life.

year,

Distrust mankind, with your own heart confer,
And dread even there to find a flatterer.

Oh! sacred Solitude, divine retreat,
Choice of the prudent, envy of the great;
By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade,
We court fair Wisdom, that celestial maid:
There, blest with health, with business unperplex'd,
This life we relish, and ensure the next.

The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay,
Provides a home from which to run away.
In Britain, what is many a lordly seat,
But a receipt in full for an estate?

But Florio's fame, the product of a shower,
Grows in his garden, an illustrious flower.
O solid bliss! which nothing can destroy,
Except a cat, bird, snail, or idle boy.

The man who pardons disappoints his foe..

And be this truth eternal ne'er forgot,

Solemnity's a cover for a sot.

Be wise with speed,

A fool at forty is a fool indeed.

Though wrong the mode, comply; more sense is shewn

In wearing others' follies, than your own.

Naked in nothing should a woman be;
But veil her very wit with modesty.

Women were made to give our eyes delight:
A female sloven is an odious sight.

O let those tremble who are greatly bless'd!

Our greatest good, and what we least can spare, Is Hope; the worst of all our evils, Fear.

GOLDSMITH.

BLESS'D that abode, where want and pain repair, And ev'ry stranger finds a ready chair;

Bless'd be those feasts, with simple plenty crown'd,
When all the ruddy family around

Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail,
Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale;
Or press the bashful stranger to his food,
And learn the luxury of doing good!

And wiser he whose sympathetic mind
Exults in all the good of all mankind.

If countries we compare,

And estimate the blessings which they share;
Tho' patriots flatter, still shall Wisdom find
An equal portion dealt to all mankind.

Here beggar-pride defrauds her daily cheer,
To boast one splendid banquet once a year.
The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws,
Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause.

How small, of all that human hearts endure,
That part which lords or kings can cause or cure.
Still to ourselves in ev'ry place consign'd,
Our own felicity we make or find.

But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade,
With all the freaks of wanton wealth array'd,
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain,
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain:
And ev'n while fashion's brightest arts decoy,
The heart distrusting asks if this be joy?

Luxury! thou curst by Heav'n's decree, How ill-exchang'd are charities for thee! How do thy potions, with insidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy!

DR. ROBERTS.

Perish the slave,

WHOSE venal breath in youth's unpractis'd ear Pours poison'd flattery, and corrupts the soul With vain conceit.

On every object through the giddy world,
Which fashion to thy dazzled eye presents,
Fresh is the glass of newness; look, dear youth,
Oh look, but not admire!

Let not affection's full impetuous tide,
Which riots in thy gen'rous breast, be check'd
By selfish cares; nor let the idle jeers
Of laughing fools make thee forget thyself.

When didst thou hear a tender tale of woe,
And feel thy heart at rest? Have I not seen
In thy swoln eye the tear of sympathy,

The milk of human kindness? When didst thou,
With envy rankling, hear a rival prais'd?
When didst thou slight the wretched? when despise
The modest humble suit of poverty?

These virtues still be thine, nor ever learn
To look with cold eye on the charities
Of brother or of parents; think on those
wish is wafted still to thee.

Whose every

BEATTIE.

FROM THE MINSTREL.

There are, who, deaf to mad ambition's call, Would shrink to hear th' obstreperous trump of

fame;

Supremely blest, if to their portion fall

Health, competence, and peace.

Liberal, not lavish, is kind nature's hand,
Nor was perfection made for man below.

Wilt thou debase the heart which GOD refined? No: let thy heaven-taught soul to heaven aspire.