happening to get into my shoe." The beggar had by this time come up, and pulling off a piece of a hat, asked charity of Harley. The dog began to beg too. It was impossible to resist both; and, in truth, the want of shoes and stockings had made both unnecessary, for Harley had destined sixpence for him before.

3. The beggar, on receiving it, poured forth blessings without number; and, with a sort of smile on his countenance, said to Harley "that if he wanted to have his fortune told"-Harley turned his eye briskly upon the beggar; it was an unpromising look for the subject of a prediction, and silenced the prophet immediately. "I would much rather learn," said Harley, "what it is in your power to tell me. Your trade must be an entertaining one; sit down on this stone, and let me know something of your profession; I have often thought of turning fortune-teller for a week or two, myself."

4. "Master," replied the beggar', "I like your frankness much; for I had the humor of plain dealing in me from a child; but there is no doing with it in this world; we must do as we can; and lying is, as you call it, my profession. But I was in some sort forced to the trade, for I once dealt in telling the truth. I was a laborer, sir; and gained as much as to make me live. I never laid by ́, indeed; for I was reckoned a piece of a wag`, and your wags, I take it, are seldom rich, Mr. Harley." "So," said Harley, "you seem to know me." "Ay`, there are few folks in the country that I don't know something of. How should I tell fortunes else?" "True`; but go on with your story; you were a laborer`, you say, and a wag`; your industry, I suppose, you left with your old trade; but your humor you preserved to be of use to you in your new."

5. "What signifies sadness, sir? A man grows lean` on't. But I was brought to my idleness by degrees; sickness first disabled me, and it went against my stomach to work ever after. But in truth I was for a long time so weak, that I spit blood whenever I attempted to work. I had no relation living, and I never kept a friend above a week when I was able to joke. Thus I was forced to beg my bread, and a sorry trade I have found it, Mr. Harley. I told all my misfortunes truly, but they were seldom believed; and the few who

gave me a half-penny as they passed, did it with a shake of the head, and an injunction not to trouble them with a long story. In short, I found that people don't care to give alms. without some security for their money; such as a wooden leg`, or a withered arm, for example. So I changed my plan, and instead of telling my own misfortunes, began to prophesy happiness to others`.

6. "This I found by much the better way. Folks will always listen when the tale is their own`, and of many who say they do not believe in fortune-telling, I have known few on whom it had not a very sensible effect. I pick up the names of their acquaintance; amours and little squabbles are easily gleaned from among servants and neighbors; and indeed, people themselves are the best intelligencers in the world for our purpose. They dare not puzzle us for their own sakes, for every one is anxious to hear what they wish to believe; and they who repeat it, to laugh at it when they have done, are generally more serious than their hearers are apt to imagine. With a tolerably good memory, and some share of cunning, I succeed reasonably well as a fortuneteller. With this, and showing the tricks of that dog, I make shift to pick up a livelihood.

7. "My trade is none of the most honest, yet people are not much cheated after all, who give a few half pence for a prospect of happiness, which I have heard some persons say, is all a man can arrive at, in this world. But I must bid you good day, sir; for I have three miles to walk before noon, to inform some boarding-school young ladies, whether their husbands are to be peers of the realm, or captains in the army; a question which I promised to answer them by that time."

8. Harley had drawn a shilling from his pocket`; but Virtue bade him consider on whom he was going to bestow it. Virtue held back his arm; but a milder form, a younger sister of Virtue's, not so severe as Virtue, nor so serious as Pity, smiled upon him; his fingers lost their compression; nor did Virtue appear to catch the money as it fell. It had no sooner reached the ground, than the watchful cur (a trick he had been taught) snapped it up; and, contrary to the most approved method of stewardship, delivered it immediately into the hands of his master.

[THE following lesson requires variety of tone.] 1. MEANWHILE the adversary of God and man ́, Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of hell, Explores his solitary flight: sometimes.

2.

3.

He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left;
Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars
Up to the fiery concave towering high.

At last, appear

Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof,

And thrice three-fold the gates; three folds were brass, Three iron, three of adamantine rock

Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire,

Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat,
On either side, a formidable shape:

The one seem'd woman to the waist, and fair;
But ended foul in many a scaly fold,
Voluminous and vast, a serpent, arm'd
With mortal sting`; about her middle round,
A cry of hell-hounds never ceasing bark'd,
With wide Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung
A hideous peal.

The other shape,

If shape it might be call'd, that shape had none,
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;
Or substance might be called that shadow seem'd,
For each seem'd either; black it stood as night,
Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell,

And shook a dreadful dart: what seem'd his head,
The likeness of a kingly crown had on.

4. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat
The monster moving onward, came as fast
With horrid strides; hell trembled as he strode.
The undaunted fiend what this might be, admired,
Admired, not fear'd; God and his Son except
Created thing nought valued he, nor shunn'd`;
And with disdainful look thus first began:

5 (h) "Whence and what art thou, execrable shape?
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated front athwart my way

To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass`, That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of heaven." 6. To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied: (h) "Art thou that traitor-angel ́, art thou he Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then Unbroken; and in proud rebellious arms

Drew after him the third part of heaven's sons,
Conjured against the highest, for which, both thou
And they, out-cast from God, are here condemn'd
To waste eternal days in woe and pain?

And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of heaven ́,
Hell doom'd' and breath'st defiance here and scorn,
Where I reign king; and to enrage thee more,
Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment`,
False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings;
Lest with a whip of scorpions, I pursue

Thy lingering, or, with one stroke of this dart,
Strange horrors seize thee, and pangs unfelt before."

7. So spake the grizzly terror, and in shape

So speaking and so threatening, grew

ten-fold

More dreadful and deform. On the other side,
Incens'd with indignation, Satan stood
Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd,
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head
Level'd his deadly aim`; their fatal hands
No second stroke intend; and such a frown
Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds,
With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on
Over the Caspian; they stand front to front,
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow
To join their dark encounter in mid air.

8. So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell
Grew darker at the frown: so match'd, they stood>:
For never but once more was either like

To meet so great a foe. And now great deeds
Had been achiev'd, whereof all hell had rung,
Had not the snaky sorceress that sat
Fast by hell gate, and kept the fatal key,
Risen, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.

LII. GOD IS EVERYWHERE.

1. OH! show me where is He,
The high and holy One`,

To whom thou bend'st the knee,
And pray'st", "Thy will be done!”
I hear thy song of praise,

And lo! no form is near:

Thine eyes I see thee raise,

But where doth God appear?

Oh! teach me who is God, and where his glories shine,
That I may kneel and pray, and call thy Father mine.

2. "Gaze on that arch above:
The glittering vault admire.

Who taught those orbs to move?
Who lit their ceaseless fire?
Who guides the moon to run
In silence through the skies?
Who bids that dawning sun

In strength and beauty rise?

There view immensity! behold! my God is there:
The sun the moon, the stars, his majesty declare`.

3. "See where the mountains rise;
Where thundering torrents foam;
Where, vail'd in towering skies,
The eagle makes his home:
Where savage nature dwells,
My God is present too;
Through all her wildest dells

His footsteps I pursue:

He rear'd those giant cliffs, supplies that dashing stream, Provides the daily food which stills the wild bird's scream.

4. "Look on that world of waves,

Where finny nations glide;
Within whose deep, dark caves
The ocean-monsters hide:
His power is sovereign there,
To raise, to quell the storm;
The depths his bounty share,
Where sport the scaly swarm:

Tempests and calms obey the same almighty voice,

Which rules the earth and skies, and bids far worlds rejoice.