At length his sovereign frowns-the train of state Vanity of Human Wishes CHARLES XII.' On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, No dangers fright him, and no labors tire; War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field: And one capitulate, and one resign; Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly, And all be mine beneath the polar sky." The march begins in military state, And nations on his eye suspended wait; He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay;— He left a name, at which the world grew pale, Vanity of Human Wishes. 1 Charles XII., King of Sweden, having invaded Russia, was totally defeated at the battle of Pub owa, and forced to seek refuge in Turkey. He was afterwards killed at the siege of a little fort in Norway. OBJECTS OF PETITION. Where then shall Hope and Fear their objects find? Must dull suspense corrupt the stagnant mind? Must helpless man, in ignorance sedate, Roll darkling down the torrent of his fate? Must no dislike alarm, no wishes rise; No cries invoke the mercies of the skies? Inquirer, eeuse; petitions yet remain, Which Heaven may hear, nor deem religion vain. But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain. These goods He grants, who grants the power w gain; With these celestial Wisdom calms the mind, And makes the happiness she does not find. Vanity of Haman Wishes THE FOLLY OF PROCRASTINATION. To-morrow's action! can that hoary wisdom, l'vapedy of Irene MRS. GREVILLE. Or Mrs. Greville, whose "Prayer for Indifference" has been so much admired, I cannot, after the greatest search, give the least account. PRAYER FOR INDIFFERENCE. Oft I've implored the gods in vain, Sweet airy being, wanton sprite If e'er thy pitying heart was moved, And for th' Athenian maid' who loved, O deign once more t' exert thy power! Sovereign as juice of western flower, I ask no kind return of love, No tempting charm to please; Nor peace, nor ease, the heart can know, Turns at the touch of joy or woe, But, turning, trembles too. Far as distress the soul can wound, 'Tis pain in each degree. "Tis bliss but to a certain bound; Then take this treacherous sense of mine O haste to shed the sovereign balın, At her approach, see Hope, see Fear, And Disappointment in the rear, 1 See Midsummer Night's Dream. The tear which Pity taught to flow, The wounds which now each moment bleed, O Fairy Elf! but grant me this, So may the glow-worm's glimmering light To some new region of delight, And be thy acorn goblet fill'd With heaven's ambrosial dew, From sweetest, freshest flowers distill'd, And what of life remains for me, 1 ROBERT LOWтH, a distinguished prelate in the English church, was born in the year 1710. He was educated at Winchester School, and at Oxford,' aud after leaving the university he entered into the church, in which he rose by regular gradations, till he became, in 1777, Bishop of London. He died in 1787, in the seventy-seventh year of his age. The writings by which Bishop Lowth is most known, are, "A Short Introduction to English Grammar," for many years a text-book in the schools and colleges in England and in this country; his Translation of the Prophet Isaiah," with a large body of valuable notes; and his "Lectures on the Poe 1 "I was educated," says Bishop Lowth, "in the University of Oxford. I enjoyed all the advantages, both public and private, which that famous seat of learning so largely affords. I spent many years in that illustrious society, in a well-regulated course of useful discipline and studies, and in the agreeable and improving commerce of gentlemen and of scholars; in a society where emulation without envy, ambition without jealousy, contention without animosity, incited industry and awakened genius; where a liberal pursuit of knowledge, and a genuine freedom of thought, were raised, encouraged, and pushed forward by example, by commendation, and by authority. I breathed the same atmosphere that the HOOKERS, the CHILLINGWORTHS, and the LoсKES had breathed before whose benevolence and humanity were as extensive as their vast genius and comprehensive know ledge." With reference to this encomium of Lowth upon his Alma Mater, Gibbon, the historian, makes the following beautiful remark: "The expression of gratitude is a virtue and a pleasure: a liberal nuna will delight to cherish and celebrate the memory of its parents; and THE TEACHERS OF SCIENCE ABB THE PARENTS OF THE MIND." try of the Hebrews." The latter is a work which unites a depth of learning to a discriminating criticism and a refined taste, in a very unusual degree; and while it is of inestimable value to the professed Biblical student, it affords equal pleasure and instruction to the general reader. From the first Lecture we extract the following just and tasteful remarks, upon PHILOSOPHY AND POETRY COMPARED AS SOURCES OF PLEASURE AND INSTRUCTION. Poetry is commonly understood to have two objects in view, namely, advantage and pleasure, or rather a union of both. I wish those who have furnished us with this definition had rather proposed utility as its ultimate object, and pleasure as the means by which that end may be effectually accomplished. The philosopher and the poet, indeed, seem principally to differ in the means by which they pursue the same end. Each sustains the character of a preceptor, which the one is thought best to support, if he teach with accuracy, with subtlety, and with perspicuity; the other with splendor, harmony, and elegance. The one makes his appeal to reason only, independent of the passions; the other addresses the reason in such a manner as even to engage the passions on his side. The one proceeds to virtue and truth by the nearest and most compendious ways; the other leads to the same point through certain deflections and deviations, by a winding but pleasanter path. It is the part of the former so to describe and explain these objects, that we must necessarily become acquainted with them; it is the part of the latter so to dress and adorn them, that of our own accord we must love and embrace them. I therefore lay it down as a fundamental maxim, that Poetry is useful,' chiefly because it is agreeable; and should I, as we are apt to do, attribute too much to my favorite occupation, I trust Philosophy will forgive me when I add, that the writings of the poet are more useful than those of the philosopher, inasmuch as they are more agreeable. To illustrate this position by a wellknown example:-Who can believe that even the most tasteless could peruse the writings on agriculture, either of the learned Varro or of Columella, an author by no means deficient in ele 1 I cannot but insert here the following very fine remarks of Leigh Hunt, on the Utility of Poetry, "No man recognises the worth of utility more than the poet; he only desires that the meaning of the term may not come short of its greatness, and exclude the noblest necessities of his fellow-creatures Пe is quite as much pleased, for instance, with the facilities for rapid conveyance afforded him by the railroad, as the dullest confiner of its advantages to that single idea, or as the greatest two-idead man who varies that single idea with hugging himself on his 'buttons' or his good dinner. But he sees also the beauty of the country through which he passes, of the towns, of the heavens, of the steam-engine itself, thundering and fuming along like a magic horse; of the affections that are carrying perhaps, half the passengers on their journey, nay, of those of the great two-idead man; and, beyond all this, he discerns the incalculable amount of good, and knowledge, and refinement, and mutual consideration, which this wonderful invention is fitted to circulate over the globe, perhaps to the displacement of war itself, and certainly to the diffusion of millions of enjoyments." |