an excellent nurse thyself, Trim ; and what with thy care of him, and the old wanan's, and his boy's, and onine together, we might recruit him again at ence, and set him upon his legs.com

--In a fortnight or three weeks, added my uncle Toby, smiling, he might march.--He will never march, an't please your honour, in this world, said the Corposal. He will march, faid my uncle Toby, rising up from the fide of the bed, with one shoe off. ----An't please your honour, said the Corporal, he will never march, but to his grave.--He thall march, cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a fhoe on, though without advancing an inch, he shall march to liis regiment ---He cannot stand it, -faid the Corporal.

He shall be fupported, faid my uncle Toby.--He'll drop at lalt, said the Corporal, and what will become of his boy !--He shall not drop, faid my uncle Toby, firmly.--A-well-o'day,--do what we can for him, said Trim, maintaining his point,--the poor soul will die, ---He shall not die, by H-1, cried my uncle Toby,

-The ACCUSING SPIRIT, which few up to Heaven's chancery with tle oath, bluind as he gave it in ;-and the RECORDING ANGEL, as he wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the word, and blotted it out for ever.

-My uncle Toby went to his bureal,-put his purse into his pocket, and having ordered the Corporal to go early in the morning for a physician,-he went to bed and fell asleep.

The fun looked bright the morning after to every eye in the village but Le Fever’s and his aflicted son's; the hand of death presled heavy upon his eye-lids,--and hardly could the wheel at the cifter turn round its circle, when my uncle Toby, who had got up an hour before his wonted time, entered the Lieutenant's room, and without preface or apology, fat himself down upon the chair by the bed-lide, and independently of all modes and customs, opened the curtain in the manner an old friend and brother officer would have done it, and asked him how he did,--how he had rested in the night, what was his complaint, where was his pain, and what he could do to help him ?-and without giving him time to answer any one of the inquiries, went on

and

and told him of the little pkn which he had been concerting with the Corporal the night before for him.---

-You shall go home directly, Le Fever, said my uncle Toby, to my house, and we'll send for a doctor to see what's the matter, and we'll have an apothecary, and the Corporal shall be your nurse,-and I'll be your servant, Le Fever.

There was a frankness in my uncle Toby,--not the ef24 of familiarity, but the cause of it, --which let you at once into his soul, and showed you the goodness of his nature ;--to this, there was fomething in his looks, and voice, and manner, fuperadded, which eternally beckoned to the unfortunate to come and take shelter underhim; sothat before my uncle Toby had half finished the kind offers he was making to the father, had the son insensibly pressed up close to his knces, and had taken hold of the breast of his, coat, and was pulling it towards him.-The blood and spirits of Le Fever, which were waxing cold and now within him, and were retreating to their last citadel, the heart, --rallied back, the film forfook his eyes for a moment,-- he looked up wishfully in my uncle Toby's face,then cast a look upon his boy.-

Nature instantly ebb'd again, the film returned to its place,--the pulse fluttered=stopp’d, -went onthrobb’d-stopp'd again,w-moved topp’d, --hall I go en No.

SECTION VI.

I. The Shepherd and tbe Philofopher.

R

EMOTE from cities, liv'd a swain,

Unvex'd with all the cares of gain.
His head was silver'd o'er with age,
And long experience made him sage:
In fummer's heat, and winter's cold,
He fed his flock, and penn'd the fold :
His hours in cheerful labour Hew,
Nor envy nor ambition knew :.
His wisdom, and his honeft fame,
Thro' all the country rais’d his name.

A deep philosopher (whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools)
The shepherd's homely cottage fought;
And thus explor'd his reach of thoughti-
Whence is thy learning ? Hath thy toil
O’er books consum'd the midnight.oik?
*Hast thou old Greece and Rome furvey.'ds,
And the valt senfe of Plato weighidi?!.
Hath Socrates thy soul refin'd?
And halt thou fathom’d Tully's mind ?
Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown
By various fates on realms unknown,
Haft thou thro’ many cities ftray'd,
Their customs, laws, and manners weigh'd!

The shepherd modestly reply'd
I ne'er the paths of learning try'd ;
Nor have I roam'd in foreign parts,
To read mankind, their laws, and arts :
For man is practis'd in disguise ;
He cheats the most discerning eyes :
Who by, chat search shall wiser grow,
When we ourselves can never know?
The little knowledge I have gain'd
Was all from simple nature drain’d:
Hence my life's maxims took their rise;
Hence grew my settled hate to vice.

The daily labours of the bee
Awake my foul to industry.
Who can observe the careful ant,
And not provide for future want?
My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind :
I mark his

true,

his faithful way ;
And in my service copy Tray,
In constancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the dove.
The hen, who from the chilly air
With pious wing protects her care,
And every fowl that Alies at large,
Instructs me in a parent's charge.

From Nature, too, I take my rule
To shun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear ::
Can grave and formal pass for wife,
When men the solemn owl despise ?
My tongue within my lips I rein ;
For who talks much must talk in vain :
We from the wordy torrent fly :
Who liftens to the chatt'ring pye?

Nor would I with felonious flight,
By Atealth invade my neighbour's right:
Rapacious animals we hate;
Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate.
Do not we just abhorrence find
Against the toad and serpent kind ?
But envy, calumny, and spite,
Bear stronger venom in their bite.-
Thus every object of creation
Can furnish hints for contemplation ;
And, from the most minute and meang;
A virtuous mind can morals glean.

Thy fame is just, the fage replies :
Thy virtue proves thee truly wise.
Pride often guides the author's pen;.
Books as affected are as men :
But he who stu nature's laws,
From certain truth his maxims draws 3;

P 3.

And

And those, without our schools, suffice
To make men moral, good, and wife.

II. Ode to Leven Water..
ON Leven's banks, while free to rove

And tune the rural pipe to love,
I envied not the happiest swain
That ever trode th' Arcadian plain..

Pure stream ! in whose transparent wave
My youthful limbs I wont to lave;
No torrents stain thy limpid source ;
No rocks impede thy dimpling course,
That sweetly warbles o'er its bed,.
With white, round, polish?d pebbles spreads
While, lightly pois'd, the fealy brood,
In myriads, cleave thy crystal flood :
The springing trout, in speckled pride ; :
The salmon, monarch of the tide ;
The ruthless pike, intent on war ;
The filver eel, and mottled par.,
Devolving from thy parent lake,
A charming maze thy waters' make,
By bowers of birch and groves of pite,. ,
And hedges flower'd with eglantine

Still on thy banks, fo gaily green,
May numerous herds, and focks be seen';
And lasses, chanting, o'er the pail.;
And shepherds, piping in the dale;
And ancient faith, that knows no guile;
And industry, embrown'd with toil;
And hearts refolv'd, and hands prepard,
The blessings they enjoy to guard.:

11. Ode from the 19th Pfalnden THE spacious: firmament on high,

With all the blue ethereal. sky,
And spangl'd heav'ns, a fhining frame,
Their great original proclaim.
Th' unwearied lun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's pow'r display ;
And publithes to ev'ry land
The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon