Obrazy na stronie

prayer in your study,-fidelity and industry in your services,comfort and success in your flock,—and the presence of the God of Bethel in all! I may add, as many look much at a minister's dress, as well as other things, I would earnestly recommend the fine linen of heart-purity, spirituality, and sincerity ; the waistcoat of humility and self-diffidence, well lined with patience and selfdenial under crosses ; the outer garment of a holy, ornamental, and godly conversation in all things, at all times, and in all companies. This garment onght to be well trimmed with gravity, meekness, forbearance, brotherly love, piety, and an ambition to be useful. These are kept tight about you, by putting on the whole armour of God ;” and to fence against blasts and chill-fits, the Holy Ghost has directed the use of zeal as a cloak ; but great care ought to be taken that it be such as our Lord has worn before us, and not made of counterfeit materials, which have been often imposed upon us.

CONSCIENCE. The loss of fortune, dignity, glory, and all the pageantry of earthly grandeur, is comparatively trifling, when put in competition with that of virtue when the human mind first stoops to debasement, and wanders in the paths of impiety, its progress to misery, although gradual, is too fatally inevitable; the smallest crimes, by becoming habitual, increase in time to the crimson tints of atrocity, then, O conscience ! thou most incessant and excruciating torturer! thou never failing monitor! it is then thiné admonitions wound with remorse the breast of conscious vice; thou establishest thine awful tribunal on the ruins of neglected virtue, there to inflict a punishment far more severe than aught invented by the ingenuity of man. When lulled in apparent security, and revelling in the round of transitory pleasure, thine awful presence intrudes itself upon the harrassed imagination, and bids the lofty sinner reflect on the acts of injustice of which he has been guilty. The veil of oblivion, which, with all the precaution of vice, he has endeavoured to cast over his crimes, thou canst in one unguarded hour remove; his deeds of darkness, so cautiously enveloped with the specious garb of dissimulation and hypocrisy, are frequently by thee laid open to the scrutinising eye of justice. His most secret recesses thou canst penetrate, his every joy embitter, and render him who was once hardened in iniquity, susceptible of the slightest emotions of fear. The man who once was callous to the tender plaints of miséry and injured innocence, will, when under thy influence, start

at a shadew, tremble at an " unreal mockery," and imagine the most trivial sound, a solemn summons of retribution. Such, O conscience ! is the form in which thou visitest the child of iniquity; such the shape in which thou approachest the votary of vice. How happy then the man, who void of guile, dreads not thy reproaches ; who, supported by the consciousness of unspotted innocence, enjoys uninterrupted serenity and peace of mind; whose slumbers are undisturbed by the phantoms of a disordered imagipation; and who looks forward, with the ardor of hope and expectation, to the time when the virtues and vices of mankind shall receive their just reward.



within these few days to dine with a Lord of this city, who had before frequently invited me to his table. After dinner, when the dishes were taken away, and the bottles served, one of the company pronounced the word Ob-or-Nob, which I learned to be a kind of word of command, to give notice to the drinkers to stand to their arms, for making the first' onset of healths, or toasts, as they are here called.

For this pirpose a sort of regular gradation has been established : Political toasts go first round in order, and then other toasts, till they insensibly center in pretty women, who in the end have all the honours of the table paid them.

I do not know of any thing better imagined than these healths for ruining one's own. They glut themselves with wine till they lose their reason, and almost always go from table sick of the health they have wished others. Toasting the Royal Family is alone „ully sufficient to make a whole company drunk. On its actual footing there must be upwards of a dozen b'impers ; for indeed, it would be a very unseemly thing to dip the whole Court in a single glass of wine.

The measure of the healths drank must be also geometricallythe same, and there is not a line's breadth difference in the bumpe ers; and, what is more, none must be offended at it.

Those healths are here the source of a number of disorders : they cause the gout, the stone, and the gravel ; and at length kill the greater part of Britons, who burst downright, by being overdistended by too many healths.

Yet it must be believed as sure as their Gospel, that certain toasts may breed vast disorders, and therefore it is strictly here forbbiden to drink the Pretender's health..

The English toasts are far from being sedentary ; they are con. tinually jogging about ; they travel through the world ; and scour over the face of the earth from one extremity to the other. A General, at the distance of three hundred leagues from Great Britain, makes drunk here every day some thousands of persons, who not only never drank with them, but whose name and existence he has not even the least knowledge of. It often happens that they drink to the health of the dead, and when the feast is just over, they perhaps learn, by the coming in of the post, that they have toasted carcasses.

There is another toast peculiar to the time of war : They get drunk for the success of the British arms ; that is, they break their constitution by drinking, in the same proportion as the constitution of commonwealth is mended.

Each quarter of London has also a health peculiar to itself : St. Jame's-street tcasts differently from that of Lombard-street; the precinct of the Change does not swallow down wine to the health of the Court ; this drunkenness is here reserved to the Quality.

In France they drink to those thạt are present; in England they drink the healths of the absent. I cannot tell you if it be a piece of impoliteness to toast the fair sex in person ; but it is certain that, in England, they wait till the Ladies are gone from table to toast their healths.

There is such a woman whose toast is so much the mode, that she may boast of having fuddled several times over the whole nation to her honoar and glory. Yet these toasts are not favourable to young Ladies ; for whilst the Cavaliers get drunk at the tavern by swallowing down their names, they find themselves without adorers.

I have been told of a handsome Court Lady, who forbid all the young Lords of her acquaintance to drink her health : This policy had the desired effect. Several Cavaliers who toasted her name, from morning till night, after this prohibition, spending less time at the tavern, were more assiduous at her toilette

In regard to the sex, there are modest and immodest toasts ; that is, the healths of virtuous women, and of those who have tresspassed against chastity. The toasts of the former are so few, that they never disorder British brains; all the joy of the English tables is wrapped up in the latter.

Though there is a collection of healths, and indeed there number would not make up a large volume, the repetitions of them being still numerous, yet one often finds himself at the last page of the book of toasts. Then, for want of friends, they drink to the health of their enemies, for the English must always toast, when they drink:


One afternoon in the month of October, a young gentleman from Philadelphia, who had visited Luzerne to enjoy the pleasure of the chase, was standing with his ritie on the verge of one of those high precipices which bound the river Susquehannah, watching the eagle as she sailed far below him along the breast of the cliff, when he was suddenly awakened from his reverie by the shriek of a female voice. Turning suddenly around, he saw a young horse, which being frightened, had run away with his rider, and was rushing impetuously towards the precipice. He was too far off even to attempt to throw himself before the affrighted animal. One expedient only presented itself. With unerring aim he drew up his rifle, and the horse fell on the very brink of the cliff.

The stranger ran to the assistance of the unfortunate female. Though pale as the tenant of the grave, a lovlier object never met his view. Her dark hair fell loosely on her cold bosom.-She was lifeless. He raised her in his arms, and bore her to the hamlet at the foot of the hill.

By the assistance of the cottagers, Mary was soon sufficiently restored to be removed to the house of her father, which was not far distant. A fever ensued, and William, whose extensive studies had given him some knowledge in medicine, attracted by a charm which he could neither resist nor define, resolved to remain and prescribe for Mary until her fate should be determined.

Mary was just eighteen, when the accident happened which introduced the accomplished and fascinating stranger to her knowledge. By his kindness, and that of her parents, she slowly recovered; but the lively radiance of her fine blue eyes was changed to a mild and pensive sweetness, less dazzling, but, oh! to the heart of sensibility how, interesting. The lily stole the rose's blossom; the throbbing heart, and expressive flush that rose when William entered the room, too plainly told, that love obtrusive urchin, had left the city, and entered the cottage of Mary with the stranger.

William was the most accomplished man Mary had ever seen. Pleasing in his manners, insinuating in his address, sensible and handsome, and too, the preserver of her life! What female heart could be insensible to so much excellence! The affectionate and assiduous attentions of William soon restored Mary, in some degree, to her former health, and the chain that had so long detained him, gathering new strength, he found it impossible to break a connexion that was already so dear to him.

All Franksburg talked of the courtship, and when I saw William and Mary lead down in the dance together, I could not help thinking they were formed for each other.

I went up to Franksburg last fall to visit my old friend, and to congratulate him on the purposed connexion. It was one of those pleasant moonlight evenings in the month of September, when I arrived at the gate, such as had always been enlivened by the song and the dance, under the old elm by the door. But the sound of joy was no more heard on the green.

William was gone; the cheek of the soldier was wet with anguish ; and the wife of his bos. om seemed fast declining in sorrow to the grave.

Pale and dejected, Mary sat by the window, her head reclining on her band. Her eye moistened by a tear, was fixed on vacancy, or wandered heedlessly from object to object. Seduced by the man who saved her life, she was soon to become a mother.

The old man took my hand-pressed it between his : O! this is an ungrateful world,” said he. His heart swelled; he turned away to conceal his emotion. An aged missionary, whose hair was silvered with the frosts, of seventy winters, endeavoured to. turn their affections to another world, and to lead them for consolation beyond the tomb.

Ye votaries of pleasure ; ye gay, ye wonton seducers of the fair, whom you should protect; 0! could you have seen the cottage of poor Freeman, your infamous trophies over deluded innocence would have been scorpions to your consciences,

Such ruin-Hark the watch dog announces a stranger ! The door opened, and in a moment we behold William at the feet of her father. Mary shrieked and fainted. “ I come, I come," said he, “ for forgiveness ; I come to offer all the reparation in my power. Not a moment of happiness have I known since I left you.

Noble youth ! thou hast set a pattern by thy return to virtue most worthy to be followed.


CURIOUS LETTER EROM A WATCHMAKER TO A LADY. Madam, -I feel myself obliged to declare at long run, not only that I am chagrined at the power of your chrystal-line optics, but that a repetition of your glances will make me canter to the verge of the gloomy grave. I beg you will do me the justice to believe, that I am at this moment vibrating between hope and despair, whether I ought to propose a case to you, which is so strongly rivetied on my mind, that it effects me to the very centre ; and though I

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