extortions, he is always for making as many poor as he can, but for relieving none whom he either finds or makes so. So that it is a question, whether his heart be harder, or his fist closer. In a word, he is a pest and a monster: greedier than the sea, and barrener than the shore. THE GLORY OF THE CLERGY. God is the fountain of honor; and the conduit by which he conveys it to the sons of men are virtues and generous practices. Some, indeed, may please and promise themselves high matters from full revenues, stately palaces, court interests, and great dependences. But that which makes the clergy glorious, is to be <nowing in their profession, unspotted in their lives, active and aborious in their charges, bold and resolute in opposing seducers, and daring to look vice in the face, though never so potent and llustrious. And, lastly, to be gentle, courteous, and compassionate to all. These are our robes and our maces, our escutcheon: and highest titles of honor. THE PLEASURES OF AMUSEMENT AND INDUSTRY COMPARED. Nor is that man less deceived that thinks to maintain a constant tenure .of pleasure by a continual pursuit of sports and recreations. The most voluptuous and loose person breathing, were he but tied to follow his hawks and his hounds, his dice and his courtships every day, would find it the greatest torment and calamity that could befall him; he would fly to the mines and galleys for his recreation, and to the spade and the mattock for a diversion from the misery of a continual unintermitted pleasure. But, on the contrary, the providence of God has so ordered the course of things, that there is no action, the usefulness of which has made it the matter of duty and of a profession, but a man may bear the continual pursuit of it without loathing and satiety. The same shop and trade that employs a man in his youth, employs him also n his age. Every morning he rises fresh to his hammer and anvil; he passes the day singing; custom has naturalized his labor to him; his shop is his eleinent, and he cannot with any enjoyment of himself live out of it. THE EYE OF CONSCIENCE. That the eye of conscience may be always quick and lively, le constant use be sure to keep it constantly open, and thereby ready 1 This is in accordance with Ezekiel xxxiii. 1—6. The ancient prophets, faithful and fearless men, thinking more of "the heathen" at home than "the heathen" abroad, did not reprove the Jews for the sins of the people of Kamtschatka; but it was, "wash You, make you clean; put away the evil of Your doings; seek justice; break every yoke; loose the bands of wickedness, and let tho oppressed go free," &c. Whenever and wherever the pulpit is silent on great national sins, ft false to its high and holy trust. Even bad men will respect faithfulness more than P time-serving silence. and prepared to admit and let in those heavenly beams which are always streaming forth from God upon minds fitted to receive them. And to this purpose let a man fly from every thing which may leave either a foulness or a bias upon it; let him dread every gross act of sin; for one great stab may as certainly and speedily destroy life as forty lesser wounds. Let him carry a jealous eye over every growing habit of sin: let him keep aloof from all commerce and fellowship with any vicious and base affection, especially from all sensuality: let him keep himself untouched with the hellish, unhallowed heats of lust and the noisome steams and exhalations of intemperance: let him bear himself above that sordid and low thing, that utter contradiction to all greatness of mindcovetousness: let him disenslave himself from the pelf of the world, from that amor sceleratus habendi. Lastly, let him learn so to look upon the honors, the pomp, and greatness of the world, as to look through them. Fools indeed are apt to be blown up by them and to sacrifice all for them: sometimes venturing their heads only to get a feather in their caps. THOMAS PARNELL was born in Dublin in 1679. After receiving the ele ments of education at a grammar-school, he was admitted to the University of Dublin; after leaving which he was ordained a deacon, in 1700, and in five years afterwards, he was promoted to the archdeaconry of Clogher. Up to this time he had sided with the Tory party, but now found it convenient to change his politics; he therefore went over to the Whigs, who received him with open arms, deeming him a valuable auxiliary to their cause. Parnell endeavored to recommend himself by his eloquence in the pulpits of London, but from the new ministry he received nothing more substantial than caresses and empty protestations. To imbitter his disappointment, he lost, in 1712, his amiable wife, to whom he was affectionately devoted. His private friends, however, were not unmindful of his interests, and obtained for him a vicarage in the vicinity of Dublin, worth £400 per annum: but he did not live long to enjoy his promotion. He died in 1717, in the thirty-eighth year of his age. "The compass of Parnell's poetry is not extensive, but its tone is peculiarly delightful: not from mere correctness of expression, to which some critics have stinted its praises, but from the graceful and reserved sensibility that accompanied his polished phraseology. The studied happiness of his diction does not spoil its simplicity. His poetry is like a flower that has been trained and planted by the skill of the gardener, but which preserves, in its cultured state, the natural .ragrance of its wilder air."2 The poem by which Parnell is chiefly known, is "The Hermit," which has always been a favorite with every class of readers. It is a revolving panc rama of beautiful pictures, each perfect in itself. But the story is not original, as it appeared as early as the fifteenth century in a collection of tales entitled the "Gesta Romanorum," and we present the rader with the analysis of it below, as given by Warton in his History of Engi sh Poetry. The poem, however, is too long for our limits, and no extracts wou'd do it justice; but we will give a few lines to show its style. The last instance of the angel's seeming injustice, is that of pushing the guide from the bridge into the river. At this the Hermit is unable to suppress his indignation: Wild sparkling rage inflames the Father's eyes; And wings, whose colors glitter'd on the day, And moves in all the majesty of light. Another very interesting piece of Parnell's is his ballad, Edwin of the Green, a fairy tale, in the ancient English style:" but its length excludes it 1 A devout hermit lived in a cave, near which a shepherd folded his flock. Many of the sheep being stolen, the shepherd was unjustly killed by his master, as being concerned in the theft. The hermit, seeing an innocent man put to death, began to suspect the existence of a Divine Providence, and resolved no longer to perplex himself with the useless severities of religion, but to mix in the world. In travelling from his retirement, he was met by an angel in the figure of a man, who said, “I am an angel, and am sent by God to be your companion on the road." They entered a city, and begged for lodging at the house of a knight, who entertained them at a splendid supper. In the night, the angel rose from his bed and strangled the knight's only child, who was asleep in the cradle. The hermit was astonished at this barbarous return for so much hospitality, but was afraid to make any remonstrance to his companion. Next morning they went to another city. Here they were liberally received in the house of an opulent citizen; but in the night the angel rose, and stole a golden cup of inestimable value. The hermit now concluded that his companion was a bad angel. In travelling forward the next morning, they passed over a bridge, about the middle of which they met a poor man, of whom the angel asked the way to the next city. Having received the desired information, the angel pushed the poor man into the water, where he was immediately drowned. In the evening they arrived at the house of a rich man, and begging for a lodging, were ordered to sleep in a shed with the cattle. In the morning the angel gave the rich man the cup which he had stolen. The hermit, amazed that the cup which was stolen from their friend and benefactor should be given to one who refused them a lodging, began to be now convinced that his companion was the devil; and begged to go on alone. But the angel said, "Hear me, and depart. When you lived in your hermitage, a shepherd was killed by his master. He was innocent of the supposed offence; but had he not been then killed, he would have committed crimes in which he would have died impenitent. His master endeavors to atone for the murder, by dedicating the remainder of his days to alms and deeds of charity. I strangled the child of the knight. But know, that the father was so intent on heaping up riches for his child, as to neglect those acts of public munificence for which he was before so distinguished, and to which he has now returned. I stole the golden cup of the hospitable citizen. But know, that from a life of the strictest temperance, he became, in consequence of possessing this cup, a perpetual drunkard, and is now the most abstemious of men. I threw the poor man into the water. He was then honest and religious. But know, had he walked one half of a mile further, he would have murdered a man in a state of mortal sin. I gave the golden cup to the rich man, who refused to take us within his roof. He has therefore received his reward in this world, and in the next will suffer the pains of bell for his inhospitality." The hermit fell prostrate at the angel's feet, and, requesting forgiveness, re-urned to his hermitage, fully envinced of the wisdom and justice of God's government. from our pages. The following very beautiful "Hymn to Contentment" will, however, give a very good idea of this author's manner HYMN TO CONTENTMENT. Lovely, lasting peace of mind! And seeks (as I have vainly done) No real happiness is found In trailing purple o'er the ground: To range the circuit of the sky, And doubts at last for knowledge rise. Twas thus, as under shade I stood, I sung my wishes to the wood, And, lost in thought, no more perceived Know God-and bring thy heart to know With sense of gratitude and joy: Pleased and bless'd with God alone: Should be sung, and sung by me: Go search among your idle dreams, WE come now to one of the purest and most exalted characters on the page of history;-to one who laid the foundation of a great state in the strictest jastice and equity; established the utmost freedom of conscience in religion; and demonstrated to the world that the most potent weapons to subdue the savage heart, are the peace principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. William Penn, the only son of Admiral Penn, was born in London, October 14, 1644. His early education was very carefully attended to, and in 1660 he entered Oxford University. His first bias towards the doctrines of the Society of Friends was produced by the preaching of Thomas Loe, the effect of which was, that Penn and some of his fellow-students withdrew from attendance on the public worship of the established church, and held private prayer meetings. They were fined by the college, but this did not deter them. The principles which he adopted displeased his father very much, who repeatedly banished him from his house; but when it appeared that his son's opinions were unalterable, a reconciliation took place between them. In 1668, he began to preach, and also published his first work, "Truth Ex. alted." Like many others of the early Friends, Penn was repeatedly throwr. into prison; and during his confinement in the Tower of London, he wrote his most popular work, "No Cross, no Crown,"-an able exposition of the views of his society. In 1670 the Conventicle act was passed, and Penn was one of the first sufferers under it. He was tried for preaching to what was called a riotous and seditious assembly;" but the jury, in opposition to the |