heartily, though, upon examination, I thought most of them very flat and insipid.

4. I found, after some time, that the merit of his wit was founded upon the shaking of a fat paunch, and the tossing up of a pair of rosy jowls. Poor Dick had a fit of sickness,. which robbed him of his fat and his fame at once; and it was full three months before he regained his reputation, which rose in proportion to his floridity. He is now very jolly and ingenious, and hath a good constitution for wit.

5. Those who are thus adorned with the gifts of nature are apt to show their parts with too much ostentation. I would therefore advise all the professors of this art never to tell stories but as they seem to grow out of the subject-matter of the conversation, or as they serve to illustrate or enliven it. Stories that are very common are generally irksome; but may be aptly introduced, provided they be only hinted at and mentioned by way of allusion.

6. Those that are altogether new should never be ushered in without a short and pertinent character of the chief persons concerned, because, by that means, you may make the company acquainted with them; and it is a certain rule, that slight and trivial accounts of those who are familiar to us administer more mirth than the brightest points of wit in unknown characters:

7. A little circumstance, in the complexion or dress of the man you are talking of, sets his image before the hearer, if it be chosen aptly for the story. Thus, I remember Tom Lizard, after having made his sisters merry with an account of a formal old man's way of complimenting, owned, very frankly, that his story would not have been worth one farthing, if he had made the hat of him whom he represented one inch

narrower.

8. Besides the marking distinct characters, and selecting pertinent circumstances, it is likewise necessary to leave off in time, and end smartly; so that there is a kind of drama in the forming of a story; and the manner of conducting and pointing it is the same as in an epigram. It is a miserable thing, after one hath raised the expectation of the company by humorous characters and a pretty conceit, to pursue the matter too far. There is no retreating; and how poor is it for a story-teller to end his relation by saying, "That's all!"

LESSON XXXV.

Will Waddle. COLMAN.

1. WHO has e'er been in London, that overgrown place,
Has seen 66
Lodgings to Let" stare him full in the face.
Some are good, and let dearly; while some, 't is well known,
Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone.

Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely,
Hired lodgings that took single gentlemen only;
But Will was so fat he appeared like a ton,
Or like two single gentlemen rolled into one.

2. He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated,
But all the night long he felt fevered and heated;
And though heavy to weigh as a score of fat sheep,
He was not by any means heavy to sleep.

Next night 't was the same; and the next, and the next;
He perspired like an ox; he was nervous and vexed;
Week passed after week, till, by weekly succession,
His weakly condition was past all expression.

3. In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him;
For his skin" like a lady's loose gown" hung about him;
He sent for a doctor, and cried like a ninny;

"I have lost many pounds - make me well- there 's a guinea "
The doctor looked wise; "A slow fever," he said ;
Prescribed sudorifics and going to bed.
"Sudorifics in bed," exclaimed Will," are humbugs!
I've enough of them there without paying for drugs!
4. Will kicked out the doctor; but when ill indeed,
E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host, he said, "Sir, do you know,
I'm the fat single gentleman six months ago?
Look 'e, landlord, I think," argued Will with a grin,
"That with honest intentions you first took me in:
But from the first night- and to say it I 'm bold —
I've been so hanged hot, that I'm sure I caught cold."

5. Quoth the landlord, "Till now, I ne'er had a dispute;
I've let lodgings ten years; I'm a baker to boot;
In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven;

""

And your bed is immediately over my oven.

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The oven!" says Will. Says the host, "Why this passion?

In that excellent bed died three people of fashion.

Why so crusty, good sir?' "Zounds!" cries Will, in a taking, "Who would n't be crusty, with half a year's baking?

""

6. Will paid for his rooms; cried the host, with a sneer, "Well, I see you 've been going away half a year.'

29

66

Friend, we can't well agree; yet no quarrel," Will said;

66

'But I'd rather not perish while you make your bread."

LESSON XXXVI.

Omniscience and Omnipresence of God. - ADDISON.*

1. We shall utterly extinguish the melancholy thought of our being overlooked by our Maker, in the multiplicity of his works and the infinity of those objects among which he seems to be incessantly employed, if we consider, in the first place, that he is omnipresent; and, in the second, that he is omniscient. If we consider him in his omnipresence, his being passes through, actuates and supports, the whole frame of nature.

2. His creation, and every part of it, is full of him. There is nothing he has made that is either so distant, so little, or so inconsiderable, which he does not essentially inhabit. His substance is within the substance of every being, whether material or immaterial, and as intimately present to it as that being is to itself.

3. It would be an imperfection in him were he able to remove out of one place into another, or to withdraw himself from anything he has created, or from any part of that space which is diffused and spread abroad to infinity. In short, to speak of him in the language of the old philosopher, "He is a being whose center is everywhere, and his circumference nowhere."

4. In the second place, he is omniscient as well as omnipresent. His omniscience, indeed, necessarily and naturally flows from his omnipresence; he cannot but be conscious of every motion that arises in the whole material world, which he thus essentially pervades; and of every thought that is stirring in the intellectual world, to every part of which he is thus intimately united.

5. Several moralists have considered the creation as the temple of God, which he has built with his own hands, and which is filled with his presence. Others have considered infinite space as the receptacle, or rather the habitation, of the Almighty. But the noblest and most exalted way of considering this infinite space is that of Sir Isaac Newton, who calls it the sensoriumt of the Godhead.

*This elegant writer was born in 1672, and died in 1719. Dr. Johnson says:- "Whoever wishes to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of Addison."

The seat of sense and perception. Sensoriola is the diminutive plural of the same word, that is, the little seats of sense and perception.

6. Brutes and men have their sensoriola, or little sensoriums, by which they apprehend the presence and perceive the actions of a few objects that lie contiguous to them. Their knowledge and observation turn within a very narrow circle. But as God Almighty cannot but perceive and know everything in which he resides, infinite space gives room to infinite knowledge, and is, as it were, an organ to omniscience.

7. Were the soul separate from the body, and with one glance of thought should start beyond the bounds of the creation, should it for millions of years continue its progress through infinite space with the same activity, it would still find itself within the embrace of its Creator, and encompassed round with the immensity of the Godhead.

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8. While we are in the body, he is not less present with us, because he is concealed from us. "O that I knew where I might find him!" says Job. 'Behold I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him; on the left hand where he does work, but I cannot behold him; he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him." In short, reason as well as revelation assures us that he cannot be absent from us, notwithstanding he is undiscovered by us.

9. In this consideration of God Almighty's omnipresence and omniscience, every uncomfortable thought vanishes. He cannot but regard everything that has being, especially such of his creatures who fear they are not regarded by him.

10. He is privy to all their thoughts, and to that anxiety of heart, in particular, which is apt to trouble them on this occasion; for, as it is impossible he should overlook any of his creatures, so we may be confident that he regards with an eye of mercy those who endeavor to recommend themselves to his notice, and in an unfeigned humility of heart think themselves unworthy that he should be mindful of them.

LESSON XXXVII.

National Song.*— R. T. PAINE.

1. YE sons of Columbia, who bravely have fought

For those rights, which unstained from your sires had descended,

*This song, under the name of "Adams and Liberty," was written during the presidency of the elder Mr. Adams, and the poet realized seven hundred and fifty dollars from it. The sentiments which it con

May you long taste the blessings your valor has bought,
And your sons reap the soil which their fathers defended!
Mid the reign of mild Peace,

May your nation increase,

With the glory of Rome, and the wisdom of Greece;
And ne'er shall the sons of Columbia be slaves,

While the earth bears a plant, or the sea rolls its waves.

2. In a clime whose rich vales feed the marts of the world,
Whose shores are unshaken by Europe's commotion,
The trident of commerce should never be hurled,
To incense the legitimate powers of the ocean.

But should pirates invade,

Though in thunder arrayed,

Let your cannon declare the free charter of trade.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

3. The fame of our arms, of our laws the mild sway, Had justly ennobled our nation in story,

"Till the dark clouds of faction obscured our young day, And enveloped the sun of American glory.

But let traitors be told,

Who their country have sold,

And bartered their God for his image in gold,

That ne'er will the sons, &c.

4. While France her huge limbs bathes recumbent in blood, And society's base threats with wide dissolution,

May Peace, like the dove that returned from the flood,
Find an ark of abode in our mild constitution

But though peace is our aim,

Yet the boon we disclaim,

If bought by our sovereignty, justice, or fame.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

5. "Tis the fire of the flint each American warms:
Let Rome's haughty victors beware of collision;
Let them bring all the vassals of Europe in arms;
We're a world by ourselves, and disdain a division
While, with patriot pride,

To our laws we 're allied,

No foe can subdue us, no faction divide.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

6. Our mountains are crowned with imperial oak, Whose roots, like our liberties, ages have nourished; But long ere our nation submits to the yoke,

Not a tree shall be left on the field where it flourished.
Should invasion impend,

Every grove would descend,

From the hill-tops they shaded, our shores to defend.
For ne'er shall the sons, &c.

7. Let our patriots destroy Anarch's pestilent worm, Lest our liberty's growth should be checked by corrosion; Then let clouds thicken round us; we heed not the storm; Our realm fears no shock, but the earth's own explosion.

tains entitle it to preservation, shall

appear.

- at least, until a better national antheın