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turtledoves. The constancy of the dove is such that it becomes a .proverb; and when one of a pair dies, the other generally pines itself to death : so true is their love, and so far are they from a desire of changing. A very striking instance of the power of instinct, and an example worthy of imitation. The dove and the lamb are so remarkable for their

gentleness, that they have been adopted as symbols of our most holy religion, and are always represented, in the sacred writings, as the most perfect emblems of virtue and innocence.

Application. Constancy, whether in love or friendship, is certainly one of the most striking proofs of a great and noble mind; as fickleness is of the contrary.

Love is but a more refined, a more tender friendship; and when that love is strengthened by the more sacred ties of marriage, it ought to be equally lasting and inviolate.

In such a state, the joy or grief of either party must be shared by the other : they must be both as one, or happiness can never be expected.

In order to promote this agreeing will, constancy, tenderness, and an allowance for the frailty of humanity, are indispensably necessary.' When these are united, there may truly be said to be a union of souls; which is the greatest felicity on earth.

The emblem of the dove is one of those lessons drawn from nature, whereby the best amongst us may profit : since we may well be ashamed to be outdone, either in constancy or tenderness, by any of the brute creation,

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Hail, beauteous stranger of the wood,

Attendant on the spring!
Now heaven repairs thy vernal seat,

And woods thy welcome sing.
Soon as the daisy decks the green,

Thy certain voice we hear; Hast thou a' star to guide thy path,

Or mark tlie rolling year? Delightful visitant! with thee

I hail the time of flowers, When heaven is fill'd with music sweet

Of birds among the bowers.
The schoolboy wandering in the woodly

To pull the flowers so gay,
Oft starts, thy curious yoice to hear,

And imitates thy lay.
Soon as the pea puts on the bloom,

Thou fly'st the vocal vale;
An annual guest in other lands,

Another spring to hail.
Sweet bird, thy bower is ever greeng

Thy sky is ever clear;
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,

No winter in thy year.
0! could I fly, I'd fly with tnee;

We'd make, with joyful wing, Our annual'visit'o'er the globe,

Companions of the spring.


It may be truly said, that if children be undutiful tu their parents, they seldom prove good to any other relations.

The honour which children are required to give to their father and mother includes in it, love, reverence, obe:lience, and relief. It is usaal with providence to return, in kind, men's disobedience to their parents.

Where shall we find a person who has received, from any one, benefits so great, or so numerous, as children nave received from their parents ? To tliem it is, that they owe their very existence; and consequently, all the pleasures and enjoyments of life. No one will expect a return of kindness, however inconsiderable, from hing who can show himself unmindful of what he owes hit parents.

To see a father treating a son like an elder brother and to see sons covet their father's company and conversation, because they think him the wisest and most agreeable man of their acquaintance, is the most beautiful picture which the eye can behold. It is a transplanted selfattachment, as sacred as friendship, as pleasurable as love, and as happy as religion can make it.

If every father remembered his own thoughts and inclinations, when he was a son, and every son remembered what he expected from his father, when he himself was in a state of dependency, this one reflection woulu keep fathers from being rigid, and sons from being dissolute,


I've seen, in twilights' pensive hour,
The moss-clad dome, the mould'ring tow'r,

In awful ruin stand ;
That dome where grateful voices sung,

, That tower whose chiming music rung

Majestically grand !
I've seen, mid sculptur'd pride, the tomb,
Where heroes slept in silent gloom,

Unconscious of their fame;
Those who, with laurel'd honours crown'd,
Among their foes spread terror round,

And gain'd-an empty name.
I've seen, in Death's dark palace laid,
The ruins of a beauteous maid,

Cadaverous and pale!
That maiden who, while life remain'd,
O'er rival charms in triumph reign'd,

The mistress of the vale.
I've seen, where dungeon damps abide,
A youth, admir'd in manhood's pride,

In fancied greatness rave:
Who, in REASON's happier day,
Was virtuous, witty, noble, gay,

Learned, gen'rous, and brave.
Nor dome, nor tow'r, in twilight shade,
Nor hero fall'n, nor beauteous maid,

To ruin all consignid,
Can with such pathos touch the breast,
As (on the maniac's form impress'd)



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WOULDST thou, unthinking, to the beast draw neas
Caught by his plaintive cry and fraudful tear?
Ah! fly, in time, the dreadful stroke of fate,
Nor stay to feel it, and be wise too late.

Deceitful men, and all their mazes shun,
Nor by dissembled sorrows be undone :
If much they seem their actions to deplore,
Forgive their crimes, but trust their words no more,

The crocodile is reported to weep over its ppey, and to send forth a piteous and distressful cry, in order to allure men or beasts to its haunts, that it may seize and devour them,

This story is variously told. Some say it devours what? ever it catches, all but the head, and then weeps because ng myre is left to satisfy its rapacious appetite. It is most


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