Then rest no more so fondly on
The flowers of earth around thee strewn,-~
They'll do awhile to sport upon,
But not to love so fervently.

KNOWLEDGE. CONTRASTED WITH WISDOM.
Meditation here

May think down hours to moments. Here the heart
May give a useful lesson to the head,

And Learning wiser grow without his books.
Knowledge and Wisdom, far from being one,
Have oftimes no connexion. Knowledge dwells
In heads replete with thoughts of other men;
Wisdom in minds attentive to their own.
Knowledge a rude unprofitable mass,

The mere materials with which Wisdom builds,
Till smooth'd, and squar'd, and fitted to its place,
Does but encumber whom it seems t'enrich.
Knowledge is proud that he has learn'd so much;
Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Books are not seldom talismans and spells,
By which the magic art of shrewder wits
Holds an unthinking multitude enthrall'd.
Some to the fascination of a name

Surrender judgment, hoodwink'd. Some the style
Infatuates, and through labyrinths and wilds
Of error leads them, by a tune entranc'd.
While sloth seduces more, too weak to bear
The insupportable fatigue of thought,

And swallowing therefore, without pause or choice.
The total grist unsifted, husks and all.—Cowper.

CONTENTED poverty's no dismal thing,
Free from the cares unwieldy riches bring;
At distance, both alike deceive our view;
Nearer approach'd, they take another hue.
The poor man's labour relishes his meat;
His morsel's pleasant, and his rest is sweet:
Not so the rich, who find their weari'd taste
Pall'd with the prospect of the cumb'rous feast;
For what they have more than they can enjoy,
Instead of satisfying, does but cloy.

He that would undermine those foundations upon which the fabric of our future hope is reared, seeks to beat down that column which supports the feebleness of humanity.

FILIAL DUTY.-There is no virtue that adds so noble a charm to the finest traits of beauty, as that which exerts itself in watching over the tranquillity of an aged parent. There are no tears that give so noble a lustre to the cheek of innocence, as the tears of filial sorrow.-St. Julian's Letters.

No house is so narrow, but that a liberal mind will add to its dimensions.-Petrarch.

They who prophesy pleasant things, get great present applause; but in days of calamity-people have something else to think of: they lose in their feeling of their distress, all memory of those who flattered them in their prosperity.—Churchill.

Prayer, of all the means of religion, hath most of the end. It exercises our dependence upon God, our adoration and praise of him, and our charity to men.-Dr. Tillotson's Common-place-book.

Virtue is the dictate of reason, or the remains of the divine light, by which men are made beneficent and beneficial to each other. Religion proceeds from the same end, and the good of mankind so entirely depends upon these two, that no people ever enjoyed any thing worth desiring, that was not the product of them.Algernon Sidney.

Learning is wealth to the poor, an honour to the rich, and a support and comfort to the aged.

IDLENESS. Can the imagination of man form a stronger image of a life or action, than by comparing it to a race? And how can he hope to finish his course with glory, that lags, and presses not forward to obtain the prize? There is not one Christian virtue, to which the vice of idleness is not entirely contrary. Faith, hope, charity, vigilance, and mortification, are inconsistent with it, and the consequence is, that it must be a sin. All those virtues animate and invigorate the mind, whereas idleness enfeebles and fetters it; those principles are pure, strict, and severe; idleness is soft and indulgent; the one raises and exalts the soul, the other debases and depresses it; and though it has great pretences to innocence and merit, its beginning is in sin, and its end in infamy and perdition. Stupidity, ignorance, levity, and sensuality, are its companions; and as harmless and simple as it appears, it is one of the most pernicious and dangerous vices.

Palmer's Aphorisms.

The less a man sleeps, the more he lives.

Who is wise? he that learns from every one. Who is powerful? he that governs his passions. Who is rich? he that is content.-Miscellanies.

Virtue is certainly the most secure and noble possession a man can have. Beauty is worn out by time, or impaired by sickness. Riches lead youth rather to destruction than welfare; and without prudence are soon lavished away. While virtue alone, the only good that is ever durable, always remains with the person that has once entertained her. She is preferable both to wealth and a noble extraction. Letters of the Ancients.

LIFE IS SHORT.

Man's life, like any weaver's shuttle flies,
Or like a tender flow'ret fades and dies;
Or like a race it ends without delay,
Or like a vapour vanishes away;

Or like a candle which each moment wastes,
Or like a vessel under sail it hastes;

Or like a post it gallops very fast,

Or like a shadow of a cloud 'tis past.
Our castle is but weak, and strong the foe,
Our breath is short, our death is certain too;
But as his coming is a secret still,

Let us be ready, come death when he will.

He can never speak well who knows not when to hold his peace.

The degree of danger is, not only from the circumstances which threaten, but from the value of the objects which are threatened. A small danger menacing an inestimable object, is of more importance than the greatest perils which regard one that is indifferent to us.-Burke.

HYMN FOR THE MORNING.
ON thee, each morning, O my God!
My waking thoughts attend,

In whom are founded all my hopes,
And all my wishes end.

My soul, in pleasing wonder lost,

Thy boundless love surveys,

And, fir'd with grateful zeal, prepares,

Her sacrifice of praise.

Thou leadst me thro' the maze of sleep,

And bring'st me safe to light,

And with the same paternal care,

Conduct'st my steps till night.

When ev'ning slumbers press mine eyes,
With thy protection blest,

In peace and safety I commit
My wearied limbs to rest.

My spirit, in thy hand secure,
Fears no approaching ill;
For, whether waking or asleep,
Thou, Lord! art with me still.
What fit return can I, weak flesh,
Make to Almighty Pow'r!
For so much goodness, so much love!
Such mercies every hour!
I'll daily, to th' astonish'd world,
His wond'rous acts proclaim,
Whilst all with me shall praises sing,
With me shall bless his name.
At morn, at noon, at night, I'll still,
The growing work pursue;

And him alone will praise, to whom
Alone all praise is due.—Anon.

People are commonly so much employed in pointing out faults in those ahead of them, as to forget that some astern may at the instant be descanting on theirs in like manner.-Dillwyn.

LIFE InEETING NATURE.

Lue s little stage is a small eminence,
Inch high the grave above; that home of man,
Where dwells the multitude: we gaze around,
We read their monuments: we sigh; and while
We sigh, we sink; and are what we deplor'd;
Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot!-Young.

Those who submit to the control of human laws do well; but he who does the same thing from a regard to the principle of truth in himself, does better, because it would not be different with him, if no such law existed.-Dillwyn.

Great persons have need to borrow other men's opinions to think themselves happy, for if they judge by their own feelings they cannot find it. Lord Bacon.