REMOTE from cities lived a Swain, Unvex'd with all the cares of gain; His head was silver'd o'er with age, And long experience made him sage; In summer's heat and winter's cold He fed his flock and penn'd the fold:

His hours in cheerful labour flew,
Nor envy nor ambition knew:
His wisdom and his honest fame
Through all the country raised his name.1
A deep Philosopher (whose rules
Of moral life were drawn from schools)
The Shepherd's homely cottage sought,
And thus explored his reach of thought:

"Whence is thy learning? hath thy toil
O'er books consumed the midnight oil?
Hast thou old Greece and Rome survey'd,
And the vast sense of Plato weigh'd?
Hath Socrates thy soul refined,

And hast thou fathom'd Tully's mind?
Or, like the wise Ulysses, thrown,
By various fates, on realms unknown,
Hast thou through many cities stray'd,
Their customs, laws, and manners weigh'd?"
The Shepherd modestly replied,-
"I ne'er the paths of learning tried;
Nor have I roam'd in foreign parts
To read mankind, their laws and arts;
For man is practised in disguise,
He cheats the most discerning eyes:
Who by that search shall wiser grow,
When we OURSELVES can never know?2
The little knowledge I have gain'd,

Was all from simple Nature drain'd;

(1) The retirement of the country has ever formed a fertile theme of praise to poets, but it depends upon the disposition to derive good from it,

(2)

"Cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt."-HOR.
"The noblest study of mankind is man."-POPE.

Yet Socrates himself confessed that, after all, so far was he from realizing the saying of Thales, "Know thyself," that "he only knew that he knew nothing.' For rules of self-knowledge see Addison, Spectator, No. 399.

Hence my
life's maxims took their rise,
Hence grew my settled hate to vice.

"The daily labours of the bee
Awake my soul to industry.
Who can observe the careful ant
And not provide for future want?1
My dog (the trustiest of his kind)
With gratitude inflames my mind:
I mark his true, his faithful way,
And in my service copy Tray.
In constancy and nuptial love,
I learn my duty from the dove.
The hen, who from the chilly air,
With pious wing, protects her care,
And every fowl that flies at large,
Instructs me in a parent's charge.2

2

"From Nature, too, I take my rule,
To shun contempt and ridicule.
I never, with important air,
In conversation overbear.

for wise,

Can grave and formal pass
When men the solemn owl despise?
My tongue within my lips I rein,
For who talks much, must talk in vain.
We from the wordy torrent fly;

Who listens to the chattering pye?

Nor would I, with felonious sleight,

By stealth invade my neighbour's right.

Rapacious animals we hate:

Kites, hawks, and wolves, deserve their fate.

Do not we just abhorrence find

Against the toad and serpent kind?

(1) Vide Prov. v. 6.

(2) For the most beautiful application of this image, see Luke xiii. 34.

But Envy, Calumny, and Spite,
Bear stronger venom in their bite.1
Thus
every object of creation

Can furnish hints to contemplation,
And from the most minute and mean,
A virtuous mind can morals glean."

"Thy fame is just," the Sage replies,
"Thy virtue proves thee truly wise.
Pride often guides the author's pen;
Books as affected are as men:
But he who studies Nature's laws,
From certain truth his maxims draws;
And those, without our schools, suffice
To make men moral, good and wise."2

(1) Because, says Swift,

"Now and then

Beasts may degenerate into men."

(2) In addition to Revelation, God has left us two records of His nature, and our duty one internal, conscience; the other external, the aspect of all created things. Hence proper observation and thought upon the different phases of creative economy, constitute an element, and a most material one, of moral discipline, and it was well said by the wise Italian bishop, that he learned patience by the right use of his eyes. "For," said he, "I first look up to Heaven and remember that all my business is to get there: next I look to earth, and call to mind how small a portion I shall require of it when dead: lastly, I look into the world, and see how many there are, more miserable than myself. Thus I learn where true happiness is placed, where all our cares must end, and what little reason I have to repine."

But retirement has its abuses, as well as contemplation its benefits: rural apathy is not reflection, nor can there be a greater waste than for vast talents to be doomed to rust, in vulgar solitude. There are who mistake the process for the result, and who in the vain affectation of philosophical abstinence from society, go, as Eve did, to meet the devil in private. Wholesome activity of mind and body, sufficient to employ both, in the service of God and man, comports best with the design of the Creator, and therefore with the happiness of the creature. Otherwise, to shut the door, will not shut out temptation, but solitude will echo to the discontented repinings of an aimless existence, or to the perturbed pleadings of ill-suppressed desires. "Possessing all I want," said Rasselas, "I find one day and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is still more tedious than the former;" and the hermit in the same work, though he had lived fifteen years in solitude, had "no desire that his example should gain any imitators." The stagnant pool breeds reptiles, and chaos is twin-born with darkness and confusion,-the moral world, in this respect as in others, bears close resemblance to the physical'

THE LION, THE TIGER, AND THE TRAVELLER.

ACCEPT, young Prince! the moral lay,
And in these Tales mankind survey;
With early virtues plant your breast,
The specious arts of vice detest.

Princes, like beauties, from their youth
Are strangers to the voice of Truth.1

(1) Compare the third Satire of Juvenal. There is one exception, namely, they hear truth when it is profitable to the courtier to tell it, but never the whole truth.

C