Seem only to regard your friends,
But use them for your private ends.
Stint not to truth the flow of wit,
Be prompt to lie, whene'er 'tis fit.
Bend all your force to spatter merit;
Scandal is conversation's spirit.
Boldly to everything pretend,

And men your talents shall commend.
I knew the great. Observe me right;
So shall you grow, like man, polite."

He spoke and bow'd. With muttering jaws,
The wondering circle grinn'd applause.
Now, warm'd with malice, envy, spite,
Their most obliging friends they bite;
And, fond to copy human ways,
Practise new mischiefs all their days.
Thus the dull lad, too tall for school,
With travel finishes the fool;

Studious of every coxcomb's airs,

He drinks, games, dresses, whores, and swears;
O'erlooks with scorn all virtuous arts,

For vice is fitted to his parts.1
1

(1) Wisdom is the result of observation and thought,-the one acquires, the other digests, the mental food. Hence the advantages of foreign travel can be only assured to a disposition possessing both these qualities, nor would Telemachus have turned out better than an accomplished rake, except the natural pliability of youth-"Cereus vel in vitium vel in virtutem flecti"had been properly directed by Mentor. Otherwise association with adepts in the vices which "flesh is heir to," and the endeavour to show the same freedom in act, which the custom of other countries may sanction, break down the bulwarks of the character, unsupported as the latter often is in youth, by moral courage to refuse, and the evil example spreads:

"Dedit hanc contagio labem,

Et dabit in plures."

The advice of Polonius to Laertes in Shakspear's Hamlet, Act i. sc. 3, ought to be "charactered" in every young traveller's memory.

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) 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 selfish ness 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: