Jan. 30. go about idle, and to speak evil of orders, and of dignities; and to drink, and to curse, and to swear, and to stir up disturbance in the land.

"And the wicked men who have set themselves up for leaders, in the hope of being exalted, shall rejoice.

"And it shall come to pass, that when the wise men in the land fhall understand these things to be so, then shall they gather themselves together, and fhall take counsel how they may defeat their wicked purposes.

"And they fhall request the rulers of the land, and those in authority, to suppress these dangerous machinations; and fhall support the established government with unanimity and power.

"The wicked associations fhall be thus supprefsed, and the promoters thereof shall become the derision of fools, and fhall hide their heads for fhame.

"And the rulers of the land shall rejoice, and their hearts fhall be lifted up, and they fhall devise mighty things.

"And they fhall”

Here the tablets became so much defaced, as to be almost totally illegible. They are at present in the hands of a kilful antiquary, who, if he can trace the characters by any means, will transcribe them; and in that case they fhall be faithfully translated, and communicated to the public.

AN ACCOUNT OF A MAN FISH CAUGHT IN ORFORD.

AT Orford in Suffolk, in the reign of Henry 1. if we may credit Ralph de Coggefhal, some fishermen took in their nets a man fish, which answered exactly to the outward appear. ance of the human body, but was rough, and hairy, with a piked beard,

GENEROSITY.

Or late when summer crown'd the genial year,
Yon river roll'd its copious waters clear;
And as its fertilizing current flow'd,
On all the vale a rich increase bestow'd.

It seem'd delightful with the joys it gave;
For all the flow'rs upon its green banks strew'd
Were seen depicted in its lucid wave,
In glowing, smiling, pleasing gratitude.

'Tis thus the gen'rous, opulent, and kind,
The lowly vale of poverty can chear;
And in their bosom may, reflected, find

The smile that follow'd sorrow's frequent tear: These fhare each joy they lib'rally impart,

And taste each blifs that swells the grateful heart:

MARIA.

FRIENDSHIP.

'Tis the soft descending rain,
On the parch'd and russet plain,
Which, companion of the spring!
Bids the valley laugh and sing.

'Tis the southern wind that blows,
Friendly 'midst eternal snows:
Gales that chear the drooping sage,
'Op'ning hopes on hopes in age.

'Tis the kind autumnal dew,
O'er the lily's sickly hue;

Pleas'd unknowing; and unknown,
Thus to make the world our own.

'Tis the sun's enliv'ning ray,
Driving night's sad fhade away,
Chearing the bewilder'd swain,
Who despair'd to live again.

HORACE BOOK I. ODE XXXviii. TRANSLATED.

My boy, I hate the persian feast,

The pomp, the splendour of the east ;

Their garlands wove with art divine,
Around my temples ne'er fhall twine.
Cease then to seek in autumn's bow'rs.
The ling'ring bloom of dying flow'rs.

Nor be thy care on aught display'd,
Except a wreath of myrtle made;
The simplest branch becoming thee,
Is good enough, my boy, for me;
And this alone fhall form the bow'r,
Where Horace spends his social hour.

SIMPLEX.

TO THE RED BREAST.

MELODIOUS tenant of the leafy spray,

Thy plaintive music sooths my lonely hour; When, as meek twilight spreads its curtain grey, I seek retirement's solitary bow'r.

The gayer songsters of the feather'd train,
With day's declining radiance have fled;

Nor swell in variant lays their woodland strain,
But stretch their tir'd wings o'er their downy bed.

And thou alone, of all the tuneful choir,

Remain'st to chear the ev'ning with a song;
Whose artlefs notes such pleasing thoughts impart,
I wifh thee still their warblings to prolong;
With joy their livelier minstrelsy I hear,
And with each sad note fhed a softer tear.

ALOUETTE.

A LESSON FROM ADVERSITY.

A TALE, TRANSLATED FROM

THE FRENCH OF MARMONTEL, BY A FRIEND.

For the Bee.

"Admitting the action to have been in every view criminal, he may have been hurried into it through inadvertency or surprise. "He may have sincerely repented, and the virtuous principle may have now regained its full vigour. Perhaps this was the corner of frailty; the quarter on which he lay open to the incursions oftemptation while the other avenues of his heart were firmly guarded by conscience."

men

BLAIR.

Ir is a noble and generous courage which braves death, or overcomes adversity; but there is also another sort, more uncommon, and not lefs to be admired. I will give an example of it, in relating what Mr Watelet told me one day as we were walking in his delightful fhrubbery at Moulin Joli. Watelet is one of the few men of our age who has best planned his mode of life for enjoying happiness. He has followed taste in all its varieties. He was an admirer of all the arts, and invited to his house of letters and artists; he was an artist and man of letters himself, not with that brilliant succefs which awakens and excites envy; but with those moderate abili ties which solicit indulgence, and which, without eclat, without storms, obtain esteem; and not ambitious of praise, amuse the leisure of a modest solitude, or of a well tempered society; prudent enough to confine to that circle all praise, and not to seek from the public either admirers or detractors. Add to these advantages, a singular sweetnefs of manners, a delicate sensibility, and a continued attention to keep the self-love of others at peace with his own, and you will then have the idea of a life voluptuously innocent. Such was the life of Watelet.

All the world is acquainted with the philosophical retreat he had formed on the banks of the Seine, called Moulin Joli. I went there sometimes. there a young married couple that ted, and charmed with each other. the wife scarce eighteen years old.

One day, I found had been lately uniThe man was young,

Watelet seemed to

looks returned him

partake of their happiness, and their
thanks for it. As they spoke French as purely as we did, I
was surprised at hearing them say that they were setting
out for Holland, and that they were come that day to
take leave. When they had left the room after dinner, I
had the curiosity to inquire who this happy and grateful
pair were.

In his

Watelet took me into a corner of his enchanted island; and, being seated, "Listen, (said he,) and you will see Honour saved from fhipwreck by Virtue. In an expedition I made to Holland, solely to examine a country which man disputes with the ocean, and which commerce enriches almost in spite of nature, I was recommended to a rich merchant called Odelman, who, was as hospitable in his house, as he was economical in his commerce. country house, and at his table, I met a young Frenchman, whose figure was as interesting as he was diffident: He was known in Holland by the name of Oliver. Odelman, plain in his manners, treated him as his friend, or as his equal. But in vain; the young man, with a most respectful dignity of manners, kept to his situation; and you would have said of him that his behaviour was that of a most attentive son, who did his duty through affection alone. He seemed touched with my advances; and he replied with a noble, though modest air, his eyes cast down, and blushes on his cheeks. At dinner he spoke but little; yet it was done with such choice of exprefsions and decency, that it was clear he had been very well educated. In the evening he came and offered his serviec3