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"It holds all future things in doubt,

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• And, therefore, wisely leaves them out: Suggesting, what is worth our care,

، To take things present, as they are, 'Our wisest course: the rest is folly,. 'The fruit of spleen and melancholy.') Sir,' quoth the Hermit, ' I agree

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'That Reason still our guide should be:

' And will admit her as the test

'Of what is true, and what is best:

'But Reason sure would blush for shamesroll ، At what you mention in her name ;

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'Her dictates are sublime and holy ; ab2

· Impiety's the child of folly :

'Reason, with measur'd steps and slow, a bid 'To things above from things below our A Ascends, and guides us thro' her sphere With caution, vigilance, and care.

، Faith in the utmost frontier stands, ، And Reason puts us in her hands; 'But not till her commission giv'n

Is found authentic and from Heav'n. ''Tis strange that man, a reasoning creature, 'Should miss a God in viewing nature : Whose high perfections are display'd 'In ev'ry thing his hands have made: 'E'en when we think their traces lost, 'When found again, we see them most. The Night itself, which you would blame, 'As something wrong in nature's frame,

Is but a curtain to invest

• Her weary children, when at, rest. :
← Like that which mothers draw to keep
"The light off from a child asleep..

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Besides, the fears, which darkness breeds * (At least augments) in vulgar heads, Are far from useless, when the mind 'Is narrow and to earth confin'd; 'They make the worldling think with pain 'On frauds, and oaths, and ill-got gain; 'Force from the ruffian's hand the knife 'Just rais'd against his neighbour's life;

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And, in defence of virtue's cause,

Assist each sanction of the laws:

'But souls serene, where wisdom dwells,
' And superstitious dread expels,
The silent majesty of Night
• Excites to take a nobler flight,
. With saints and angels to explore
The wonders of creating pow'r;
And lifts on Contemplation's wings
'Above the sphere of mortal things:
'Walk forth, and tread those dewy plains
'Where Night in awful silence reigns;
'The sky's serene, the air is still,
'The woods stand list'ning on each hill
'To catch the sounds that sink and swell
'Wide-floating from the ev'ning bell,

'While foxes howl, and beetles hum,.

'Sounds which make silence still more dumb:

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' And try if folly, rash and rude,

'Dare on the sacred hour intrude.

'Then turn your eyes to Heav'n's broad frame,

Attempt to quote those lights by name

Which shine so thick, and spread so far ;

• Conceive a sun in ev'ry star;

'Round which unnumber'd planets roll,
'While comets shoot athwart the whole.
From system still to system ranging,
'Their various benefits exchanging,
' And shaking from their flaming hair
The things most needed ev'ry where.
'Explore this glorious scene, and say
'That Night discovers less than Day;
'That 'tis quite useless, and a sign
"That Chance disposes, not Design;
"Whoe'er maintains it, I'll pronounce
• Him, either mad, or else a dunce,
For Reason, tho' 'tis far from strong,
• Will soon find out that nothing's wrong,
'From signs and evidences clear,

' Of wise contrivance every where.'

The Hermit ended, and the Youth
Became a convert to the truth;
At least he yielded, and confess'd

That ALL was order'd for the best.

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THE OLD MAN, HIS SON AND THE ASS.

Jeron By Samuel Foote.

ONCE on a time, a Son and Sire, we're told,
The stripling tender and the Father old,
Purchas'd a Jack-Ass at a country fair,

To ease their limbs, and hawk about their ware;
But, as the sluggish animal was weak,

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They fear'd, if both should mount, his back would

break:

Up gets the Boy, the Father leads the Ass, And thro' the gazing crowd attempts to pass. Forth from the throng the grey-beards hobble out, And hail the cavalcade with feeble shout: This the respect to reverend age you shew, 'And this the duty you to parents owe? 'He beats the hoof, and you are set astride; 'Sirrah! get down, and let your father ride.'

As well-bred lads are seldom void of grace, The decent, duteous Youth, resign'd his place. Then a fresh murmur thro' the rabble ran, Boys, girls, wives, widows, all attack the man:

Sure never was brute beast so void of nature! 'Have you no pity for the pretty creature? 'To your own baby can you be unkind? Here-Suke, Bill, Betty-put the child behind.

Old Dapple next the clown's compassion claim'd! "Tis wonderment them boobies ben't asham'd:# Two at a time upon the poor dumb beast!

'They might as well have carried him, at least.— I The pair, still pliant to the partial`voice, Dismount, and bear the Ass-then, what a noise!) Huzzas, loud laughs, low gibe, and bitter joke, From the yet-silent Sire these words provoke: Proceed, my boy, nor heed, their further call; 'Vain his attempts, who strives to please them all.')

FABLE XXXL

THE ANT AND THE CATERPILLAR.

By Jolm Cunningham.

As an Ant, of his talents superiorly vain,
Was trotting with consequence oven the plain,
A Worm, in his progress remarkably slow,.

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Cry'd, Bless your good worship wherever you go ! 'I hope your great mightiness wo'n't take it ill " I pay my respects with a hearty good will,'

With a look of contempt and impertinent pride, 'Begone, you vile reptile!' his Antship replied:

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Go, go, and lament your contemptible state ;

But, first, look at me; see my limbs how complate !

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