perplexing the tumults and agitations of the world; but, amidst all these, in a friend, we may find a haven and soft anchorage from the storm-a retreat from care and disquietude. To find, among the frail heirs of mortality, friendship thus true and perfect, may be, nay is, next to an impossibility. The capriciousness of our fancies-the waywardness of our desires-the love of change-and, above all, self-love and self-interest are causes why, of ourselves, we are induced to forget, or neglect, those who may once have stood the highest in our estimation. And if we can hardly be guarded against such ourselves, how shall we wonder at often seeing the friendship of others changed into the bitterest enmity. True it is, we have been advised to live on such terms one with another, as though we were some day to be enemies. But this is a sentiment so utterly unworthy of a man, that I can scarcely believe that any one exists who acknowledges it as his tenet; and there is no one who ever knew the sweets of even an occasional friendship, but would willingly consent to be deceived in friendship, by instances innumerable, than to live in a state of apathy so cold, selfish, and uncharitable. These reflections naturally present to my thoughts the memorable and feeling appeal of Cardinal Wolsey: "Had I but served my God As diligently as I have served my king, He would not have given me over in my grey hairs." Here, then, and here only, it indeed is that we are to seek for real friendship. It is only the Almighty whose friendship is true, perfect, and everlasting. We may fail in all our endeavors to gain some earthly friend, whose esteem is necessary to our happiness, or, having won it, may live to see it forfeited without the least fault of our's: others may displace us in the affection of terrestrial beings; at best, we must be deprived of them by death, and to that loss we are momentarily liable. There is one fixed, one unerring way, by which we are certain to obtain our Creator's favor: it is by the unceasing prac tice of our virtuous duties. In this we have only to persevere; and not all the glories, the possessions, the intrigues, and the temptations, of this perishable world, no, nor even the mansions of the grave, nor the powers of darkness, shall be able to deprive us of that all-sufficient reward which we shall assuredly experience in his unspeakable love. Be his friendship our aim, and virtue our invariable pursuit, and we shall—we must, be blest in the favor of the immortal Jehovah, when time is but as an undistinguishable drop in the boundless ocean of eternity. KENYON. THE TEAR OF PITY. There is a pearl that far outshines No twinkling star that decks the sky, The feeling tear that kindly flows Čan far more worth impart; 'Tis generous, noble, sacred, free; The diamond bright may add new grace, 'Tis this can ev'ry breast subdueAffection win-can keep it true And all our thoughts control: This, this can still each gay desireKindle our hearts with magic fire, And win our very soul. LATHAM. SONG TO BACCHUS. Rosy God of the ruddy brow! Without thee what would be the dance! Without thee we should shrink from war, Love, battle, beauty, songs, the dance, Come with thy juice, and gladden, us— A passing thought to sadness. C. DASHWOOD. In sullen misery? Or why my bosom cannot feel, The charms which joys like these reveal? 'Tis not for common friends who sleep Lamented in the grave Mine eye is ever wont to weep Sad tears, that cannot save : But 'tis that I am doom'd to roam, Thus sunder'd by the wave. I live-but far, yes, far apart From those who claim this youthful heart. I seem to see who gave me birth, The grave's unpitied prey, Both mould'ring in their bed of earth, Or, yielding now to tyrant death, Whilst I am far away. Nor can I watch around their bed, And there is one, how heav'nly fair! And now to see her blest in life- The sight of one I lov'd in vain Whilst other friends 'tis her's to see, Nor would I have her think of me- But deems she I forget those hours No more inquire why I am sad, With thoughts so dark and drear? Once to thy heart so dear, Teach me the charm, and thou shalt be F. DARLINGTON. |