am a great lover of mankind, my heart naturally overflows with pleasure at the sight of a prosperous and happy multitude, insomuch that at many public solemnities I cannot forbear expressing my joy with tears, that have stolen down my cheeks. For this reason I am wonderfully delighted to see such a body of men thriving in their own private fortunes, and at the same time promoting the public stock; or in other words, raising estates for their own families by bringing into their country whatever is wanting, and carrying out of it whatever is superfluous.

Nature seems to have taken a particular care to disseminate her blessings among the different regions of the world, with an eye to this mutual intercourse and traffic among mankind, that the natives of the several parts of the globe might have a kind of dependence upon one another, and be united together by their common interest. Almost every degree produces something peculiar to it; the food often grows in one country, and the sauce in another. The fruits of Portugal are corrected by the products of Barbadoes. The infusion of a China plant sweetened with the pith of an Indian cane. The Philippine Islands give a flavour to our European bowls. The single dress of a woman of quality is often the product of a hundred climes. The muff and the fan come together from the different ends of the world. scarf is sent from the torrid zone, and the tippet from beneath the pole. The brocade petticoat rises out of the mines of Peru, and the diamond necklace out of the mines of Hindostan.

The

If we consider our own country in its natural aspect, without any of the benefits and advantages of commerce, what a barren uncomfortable spot of earth falls to our share! Natural historians tell us, that no fruit grew

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originally among us besides hips and haws, acorns and pig-nuts, with other delicacies of a like nature; that our climate of itself, without the assistance of art, can make no further advances towards a plum than to a sloe, and carries an apple to no greater perfection than a crab; that our melons, our peaches, our figs, our apricots, our cherries, are strangers among us, imported in different ages, and naturalised in our English gardens; and that they would all degenerate, and fall away into the trash of our own country, if they were wholly neglected by the planter, and left to the mercy of our sun and soil. Nor has traffic more enriched our vegetable world, than it has improved the whole face of nature among us. Our ships are laden with the harvest of every climate. Our tables are stored with spices, and oils, and wines. Our rooms are filled with pyramids of China, and adorned with the workmanship of Japan. Our morning's draught comes to us from the remotest corners of the earth. We repair our bodies by the drugs of America, and repose ourselves under Indian canopies. My friend, Sir Andrew, calls the vineyards of France our gardens, the Spice Islands our hotbeds, the Persians our silk-weavers, and the Chinese our potters. Nature indeed furnishes us with the bare necessaries of life, but traffic gives us greater variety of what is useful, and at the same time supplies us with everything that is convenient and ornamental. Nor is it the least part of this our happiness, that whilst we enjoy the remotest products of the North and South, we are free from those extremities of weather, which gave them birth; that our eyes are refreshed with the green fields of Britain, at the same time that our palates are feasted with fruits, that rise between the tropics.

For these reasons, there are no more useful members

in a commonwealth than merchants. They knit mankind together in a mutual intercourse of good offices, distribute the great gifts of nature, find work for the poor, add wealth to the rich, and magnificence to the great. Our English merchant converts the tin of his own country into gold, and exchanges his wool for rubies. The Mohammedans are clothed in our British manufacture, and the inhabitants of the frozen zone warmed with the fleeces of our sheep.

When I have been upon the 'Change, I have often fancied one of our old kings standing in person, where he is represented in effigy," and looking down upon the wealthy concourse of people, with which that place is every day filled. In this case, how would he be surprised to hear all the languages of Europe spoken in this little spot of his former dominions, and to see so many private men, who in his time would have been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiating like princes for greater sums of money than were formerly met with in the royal treasury! Trade, without enlarging the British territories, has given us a kind of additional empire; it has multiplied the number of the rich, made our landed estates infinitely more valuable than they were formerly, and added to them an accession of other estates as valuable as the lands themselves.

ADDISON.

1. EMPORIUM, a mart, a place of extensive trade or commerce. 2. FACTOR, a doer, or transactor of business for another; a mercantile agent, who transacts business for another. (Lat. facio, to do, to make, &c.)

3. DISSEMINATE, to sow, scatter, or spread far and wide. (Lat. semino, to sow.)

4. DEGENERATE, to grow worse; to fall from one's genus or race. (Lat. genus, race.)

5. EFFIGY, an image, figure, or likeness of a person or thing. (Lat. effingo, to fashion.)

HENRY V. BEFORE THE BATTLE OF
AGINCOURT.

Westmoreland. O that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in England,
That do no work to-day!

King Henry V. What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland !-No, my fair cousin :
If we are marked to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;1

It yearns 2 me not, if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But, if it be a sin to covet honour,

I am the most offending soul alive.

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No, 'faith my coz,3 wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour,
As one man more, methinks, would share from me,
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he, which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company,
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called-the feast of Crispian : 5
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a-tiptoe, when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,

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Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say-To-morrow is Saint Crispian :

Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say-These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he'll remember with advantages

What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,—
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Glo'ster,-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,—
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he, to-day, that sheds his blood with me,
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition :

And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here ; And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

THE KING'S PRAYER.

King Henry V. O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;

Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if th' opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them!-Not to-day, O Lord,
O not to-day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interrèd new;