heart. Wherefore, then, is thy soul disquieted? Why does envy dwell in thy bosom, because I rejoice too in thy brother? His refined and exalted piety drew from us tears of joy, and we, in the sweet transport, caress'd him. The angels who surround us, applaud every good action: the ALMIGHTY himself looks down from heaven's high arch, and regards with complacency the grateful offerings of a thankful heart. Would'st thou change the invariable nature of beauty and goodness? This is not in our power; and if it were, CAIN, how must we be deprav'd before we could wish to withstand the noble joy, the tender, the exquisite feelings, that high-rais'd devotion and exalted virtue create in the enraptur'd soul? Darkness, storms, and the thunders of heaven, call forth no gentle smile on the human countenance; as little do the agitations of boisterous passions cause joy to spring up in the human heart.

CAIN sternly answered:-Is reproach then all I am to hear from a father's lips? If my face does not always wear a pleasing smile; if tears of tenderness do not follow each other down my cheek, am I for this to be branded with detestable vices? Born with more firmness, bold enterprizes and severe toils have ever been my choice. Nature has stampt on my forehead a manly gravity. I cannot weep or smile at every trifle. Does the tow'ring eagle coo like the timorous dove?

ADAM with majestic gravity return'd. Thou deceivest thyself; thou harbourest in thy bosom hor

rid sentiments that will rankle in thine heart, and render thee wretched if they are not stifled. O CAIN! it is not manly gravity that is stamped on thy brow; it is envy, sorrow, and gloomy.discontent. These are seen in thine eyes, the disturbance of thy mind is visible in thy whole deportment. Thine inward dejection, O my son! has spread a cloud over all thy prospects. Hence arise thy continual murmurs, thy peevishness and passion during the labours of the day: hence thy unsocial aversion to us: hence the black melancholy, to which thou art a prey. Tell, oh, tell thine affectionate father what will give thee ease! It is his ardent wish that thy days may pass serene as the vernal morn. What cause hast thou, O CAIN! to be disquieted? Are not all the springs of happiness open to thee? Indulgent nature offers to thee all her beauties. The good, the useful, the agreeable, are they not thine as well as ours? Why then dost thou leave the blessings of heaven untasted, and complainest of wretchedness? Is it because thou art dissatisfied with the portion of happiness the divine bounty has been pleased to bestow upon fallen man? Is not every blessing the undeserv'd gift of infinite goodness? Dost thou envy the lot of angels? Know, that the angels were susceptible of discontent, and by aspiring to become gods, forfeited heaven. Would'st thou arraign the dispensations of the MOST. HIGH towards his sinful creatures? While the whole creation, in universal concert, praise the CREATOR, shall guilty man, a worm sprung from

the mud, dare to lift up his head, and carp at him whose infinite wisdom regulates the wide expanse of heaven; to whom all futurity is present, and who, by his unerring providence, can cause evil to be productive of good? Be cheerful, O my son! cast far from thee this sadness and discontent; let it no longer disturb thy thoughts; no longer throw a frightful gloom over the natural serenity of thy countenance. Open thine heart to every social affection, and look, with grateful complacency, on all the innocent pleasures which nature displays before thee.

What need of all these exhortations! cried CAIN. Do I not know that, was my heart at ease, every thing around me would give me delight? But can I silence the storm, or bid the impetuous torrent flow in a placid stream? I am born of woman, and from my nativity sentenced to misery. On my unhappy head the ALMIGHTY has poured forth the cup of malediction. It is not for me nature displays her beauties, nor do the streams of bliss, of which you take such plenteous draughts, flow for me.

Alas! my son, said ADAM, with a voice render'd almost inarticulate by his strong emotions and his tears: 'tis but too true, that the divine malediction was pronounc'd on all born of woman: but why, Oh! why shouldst thou believe that GOD has pour'd on thee, our first-born, more of his wrath than on us, the first transgressors. No, this is not, this cannot be the case: sovereign goodness contradicts it. No, my dear son, thou wert not born for misery; the beneficent CREATOR never call'd any of his crea

tures into being to render them unhappy. Man may, indeed, by his own folly, make himself wretched. If he suffers his reason to yield to impetuous passions, ignorant of true felicity, he may render his life a burden, and convert, what is naturally good and salutary, into a destructive poison. Thou canst not silence the storm, nor stop the rapidity of the torrent; but thou can'st dispel the clouds of discontent that obscure thy reason, and restore to thy soul its original light. Thou can'st force into subjection every impetuous passion, every irregular desire. Gain, O my son! this noble victory over thyself, and it will refine thy sentiments: thy whole soul will be illumin'd: darkness and distress will vanish like the mist of the dawn before the solar ray. There was a time, my dear son, when I have seen even thee shed tears: when, from the gratulations of conscience, joy hath spread itself through all thy powers; delightful fruit of virtuous actions! I refer it to thyself, CAIN, wert thou not then happy? Was not thy soul, like the clear azure of the heavens, unclouded, unspotted. Recover that beam of the DEITY, reason: let her clear light direct thy steps, and virtue, her inseparable companion, will restore joy and permanent felicity to thy purify'd heart. Listen, O CAIN! and comply with the advice of thy father. The first injunction that reason lays on thee is, to embrace thy brother. With what joy will he receive thy endearments! with what tenderness will he return them!

Father, reply'd CAIN, when at the heat of noon I rest from my labour, I will embrace him. I cannot now leave the field. I promise I will obey thee, and embrace my brother: but-while I breathe, my firm soul will never be dissolv'd to that effeminate weakness that so endears him to you, and makes your eyes run over with transport. To a softness, like this, we all owe the curse denounc'd against us, when, in PARADISE, you weakly suffered yourself to be overcome by a woman's tears.-But, what do I say? Dare I reproach my father? No, my venerable parent, I reverence thee, and am silent. Thus spake CAIN, and return'd to his labour.

ADAM remain'd motionless, with his hands and eyes rais'd to heaven. At length, in a tone of deep distress, he cry'd, O CAIN, CAIN! I have deserved the secutting reproaches; but shouldst thou not have spar'd thy father? Shouldst thou not have forborne this cruel charge, which, like a clap of thunder, shakes my tortur'd soul? Ah me! thus will my latest posterity, when, immers'd in sin, they feel the pangs inseparable from guilt, rise up against my dust, and curse the first sinner.

Having thus spoke, ADAM, with pensive eyes fix'd on the earth, slowly withdrew. The groans that burst from the agitated bosom of the afflicted father, now struck even this obdurate son with remorse, and he cry'd, gazing after him, What a wretch am I! How could I reproach so good, so tender a parent! How have I loaded him with grief! I still hear his groans.