THE Sage, awaked at early day,

Through the deep forest took his way;
Drawn by the music of the groves,
Along the winding gloom he roves;
From tree to tree the warbling throats
Prolong the sweet alternate notes.
But where he past, he terror threw,
The song broke short, the warblers flew;
The thrushes chatter'd with affright,

And nightingales abhorr'd his sight;

All animals before him ran,

To shun the hateful sight of man.

"Whence is this dread of every creature?
Fly they our figure or our nature?”
As thus he walk'd in musing thought,
His ear imperfect accents caught.
With cautious step he nearer drew,
By the thick shade conceal'd from view.
High on the branch a Pheasant stood,
Around her all her listening brood;
Proud of the blessings of her nest,
She thus a mother's care express'd:
"No dangers here shall circumvent;
Within the woods enjoy content.
Sooner the hawk or vulture trust
Than man, of animals the worst:
In him ingratitude you find,

A vice peculiar to the kind.

The sheep, whose annual fleece is dyed
To guard his health, and serve his pride;
Forced from his fold and native plain,
Is, in the cruel shambles, slain.

The swarms who, with industrious skill,
His hives with wax and honey fill,
In vain whole summer days employ'd;
Their stores are sold, the race destroy'd.
What tribute from the goose is paid!
Does not her wing all science aid? 1

(1) It is strange how the plumage of one goose, serves the passion of another, and the feather of the bird aids the enunciation of the venomous spleen of the man! The quill is,

"Torn from its parent-bird to form a pen,

That mighty instrument of little men!"-BYRON.

Does it not lovers' hearts explain,
And drudge to raise the merchant's gain?
What now rewards this general use?

He takes the quills, and eats the goose.
Man then avoid, detest his ways,
So safety shall prolong your days.
When services are thus acquitted,

Be sure we Pheasants must be spitted." 1

(1) Listeners hear no good of themselves, and the sage in the fable, obtained more knowledge of the real state of man's nature, as exhibited towards the brutes and to his fellow, than he perhaps had ever procured before, from his own contemplation. With sin came fear, and our first fall separated man from the Creator on one side, and from creation on the other. Our language towards the first, breathes fear and insincerity, and our acts to the other, combine selfishness and tyranny! Here it is evident that the phase of human nature turned to meet the rebuke of the Pheasant, is ingratitude, and "if a man be accused of this vice," say the Latins, "he is accused of every crime."

A PIN who long had served a beauty,
Proficient in the toilet's duty,

Had form'd her sleeve, confined her hair;
Or given her knot a smarter air;
Now nearest to her heart was placed
Now in her manteau's tail disgraced;
But could she partial Fortune blame,
Who saw her lovers, served the same?

At length from all her honours cast, Through various turns of life she past:

Now glitter'd on a tailor's arm,
Now kept a beggar's infant warm;
Now, ranged within a miser's coat,
Contributes to his yearly groat;
Now, raised again from low approach,
She visits in the doctor's coach:
Here, there, by various fortune tost,
At last in Gresham-hall was lost.1
Charm'd with the wonders of the show,
On every side, above, below,
She now of this or that, inquires;
What least was understood, admires.

"Tis plain each thing so struck her mind,
Her head's of virtuoso kind.

"And pray what's this, and this, dear Sir?"
"A Needle," says the' interpreter.

She knew the name; and thus the fool
Address'd her, as a tailor's tool.

"A needle with that filthy stone,
Quite idle, all with rust o'ergrown!
You better might employ your parts,
And aid the sempstress in her arts;
But tell me how the friendship grew
Between that paltry flint and you?"

66

Friend," says the Needle, "cease to blame;
I follow real worth and fame.

Know'st thou the loadstone's power and art,
That virtue, virtues can impart?

(1) This was originally the house of the celebrated founder of the Royal Exchange, who not content with other munificent acts towards his fellowcitizens, converted his own dwelling into a museum. The Royal Society originated here in 1645. For an account of the building, see a most excellent work called "The Curiosities of London," by John Timbs, Esq., F.S.A.