goodness known to others. With this conception they had engaged themselves in instructing some poor children a few miles from London; and they were, at this time, on their way thither.

It will be allowed, that it is not easy to conceive of circumstances more favorable to happiness. Indeed they were the subjects of all those delicious sentiments which flow from youth, from friendship, from nature, from piety. They travelled forward unconscious of time or distance. They were alternately talkative and silent: they talked to express happy feelings, and were silent because they found them inexpressible.

The still communion in which we left the youthful companions was not long indulged before they came in sight of a person, who was walking slower than themselves, in the same direction, and apparently reading as he went. As they made ground on him, Mr. Banks said, "I think it is Mr. Lefevre, a teacher of a neighbouring school. I hope it is; he is an excellent young man, and I shall have pleasure in

introducing you to each other." They were not long held in a state of doubt as to the person; and, by quickening their pace a little, they soon came up to him.

Mr. Lefevre appeared just to have reached the years of discretion, fresh with youth, and full of vigor. He was tall, well proportioned, and of good presence. There was something commanding and lofty in his manner, with a general expression of frankness and energy in his countenance. He exchanged civilities with our young friends in unaffected kindness, and they proceeded on their way in company.

After a slight pause, Mr. Banks observed, "that they had very much enjoyed

the fineness of the morning."

"I can sympathize in your pleasure," replied Mr. Lefevre; "it is quite a sabbath morning."

"It is," rejoined Mr. Douglas, seizing the reference of his new acquaintance, "Creation seems to say Rest from earthly care;' and the lark over our heads, is inviting us to the threshold of the heavenly world, in acts of cheerful devotion."

"Yes," said Mr. Lefevre, "if at any time nature is to be regarded as a transparent lens, through which we may look up to 'nature's God,' it must be on such a morning as this."

66

And," resumed Mr. Douglas, "if our sluggish thoughts require assistance in rising from sensible objects to the Great Father of all, I think they may derive it invariably from the author you hold in your hand," casting his eyes down upon the book.

Cowper!" said Mr. Lefevre, with a stronger smile on his face than usual, unconsciously opening and shutting the volume, "your remark is excellent; he is my favorite; who,-may I ask-who is yours?"

"Were I to speak proudly and in the fashion," replied Mr. Douglas, "I should say Milton. Every body praises Milton, read or unread. But if I reply seriously and as becomes me, I shall confess that I know too little of the Poets to say any one is my favorite. Many of them I have not read, and many of them I am willing

to believe, I am not prepared to appreciate. In this latter class, I acknowledge I must place Milton himself. When I sat down to read him, and found I could not relish every incident and every line of a poem allowed to be incomparable in its way, I felt similar disappointment to that Sir Joshua Reynolds ascribes to himself, when on commencing the study of Raphael's paintings, he found he had no taste for the sublime productions of his pencil. However, as he survived his vexations, I hope the time will come, when I shall be taught to estimate Milton as he deserves."

"But Cowper?" interrupted Mr. Lefevre, "you can relish Cowper now, cannot you?"

"As to Cowper," continued he, “he is more familiar to me than any one of the Poets. Whether you sit by the fireside, or stroll in the fields, he seems always ready to attend, and divert, and edify you. One feels interested in him as a man and a christian; and as a poet, every body admires him. At least, his powerful descriptions, his love of nature, his

virtuous and pungent satire, his comprehensive benevolence, his fervid and sublime piety, his deep pathos, and even his plaintive melancholy, have often found their way to my heart."

This notice of the characteristic excellencies of Cowper, was naturally succeeded by a reference to their favorite passages. The smile of delight passed like a sun-beam over their features, on finding so strong a similarity in their tastes. The intimacy they had with the poet was insensibly transferred to themselves; and each one felt he had found a friend, in a period of time not usually sufficient to form an acquaintance.

This unexpected interview beguiled the way and soon the happy party arrived at the point of separation. Mr. Lefevre and Douglas parted to their several duties with sensible regret; but with an understanding, that they were to take the walk as frequently as they could in each other's society.