most lingering and most acute corporeal pains? Yet, strong as it is, it falls greatly short of the anguish of a guilty conscience. Imagination, when at rest, cannot conceive the horrors which, when troubled, it can excite, or the tortures to which it can give birth.
What must have been the state of mind of Bessus, a native of Pelponia, in Greece, when he disclosed the following authenticated fact! His neighbours, seeing him one day extremely anxious in pulling down some birds' nests, and passionately destroying their young, could not help taking notice of it, and upbraiding him with his ill nature and cruelty to poor creatures, that by nestling so near him, seemed to court his protection and hospitality: he replied, that their voice was to him insupportable, as they never ceased twitting him with the murder of his father.
This execrable villainy, had lain concealed many years, and had never been suspected. In all probability it never would have come to light, had not the avenging fury of conscience drawn, by these extraordinary means, a public acknowledgment of it, from the parricide's own mouth.
Bessus is not the only person that has stood self-convicted. Though the discovery has not been distinguished by such a strange circumstance, many have made a voluntary confession, and sought for a refuge from the torments of conscience, in death. What a lesson for all men to keep a conscience void of offence.
I front firm Washington superior shone,
His eye directed to the half-seen sun;
As through the cloud the bursting splendours glow
And light the passage to the distant foe.
His waving steel returns the living day,
And points, through unfought fields, the warrior's way; His valourous deeds to be confined no more,
Monongahela to thy desert shore.
Matured with years, with nobler glory warm,
Fate in his eye, and empire on his arm,
He feels his sword the strength of nations wield,
And moves before them with a broader shield.
Greene rose beside him, emulous in arms,
His genius brightening as the danger warms,
In counsel great, in every science skill'd,
Pride of the camp, and terror of the field.
With eager look, conspicuous o'er the crowd,
And port majestic, brave Montgomery strode,
Bared his tried blade, with honour's call elate,
Claim'd the first field, and hastened to his fate.
Lincoln, with force unfolding as he rose,
Scoped the whole war, and measured well the foes;
Calm, cautious, firm, for frugal counsel's known,
Frugal of others' blood, but liberal of his own.
Heath for impending toil his falchion draws,
And fearless Wooster aids the sacred cause;
Mercer advanced an early death to prove,
Sinclair and Mifflin swift to combat move;
Here stood stern Putnam, scor'd with ancient scars,
The living records of his country's wars;
Wayne like a moving tower assumes his post,
Fires the whole field, and is himself a host;
Undaunted Stirling, prompt to meet his foes,
And Gates and Sullivan for action rose;
Macdougal, Clinton, guardians of the state
Stretch the nerv'd arm to pierce the depth of fate;
Marion with rapture seiz'd the sword of fame,
Young Laurens grac'd a father's patriot name;
Moultrie and Sumpter lead their banded powers,
Morgan in front of his bold riflers' towers;
His host of keen-ey'd marksmen skill'd to pour
Their slugs unerring from the twisted bore.
No sword, no bayonet they learn to wield,
They gall the flank, they skirt the battl'ing field,
Cull out the distant foe in full horse speed,
Couch the long tube and eye the silver bead,
Turn as he turns, dismiss the whizzing lead,
And lodge the death ball in his heedless head.
Eulogy on Laughing.
Delivered at an Exhibition by a Young Lady.
LIKE merry Momus, while the Gods were quaffing,
I come to give an eulogy on laughing!
True, courtly Chesterfield, with critic zeal,
Asserts that laughing's vastly ungenteel!
The boist'rous shake, he says, distorts fine faces,
And robs each pretty feature of the graces!
But yet this paragon of perfect taste,
On other topics was not over chasté ;
He like the Pharisees in this appears,
They ruin'd widows, but they made long prayers,
Tithe, anise, mint, they zealously affected:
But the law's weightier matters lay neglected;
And while an insect strains their squeamish caul,
Down goes a monstrous camel-bunch and all!
Yet others, quite as sage, with warmth dispute
Man's risibles distinguish him from brute;
While instinct, reason, both in common own,
To laugh is man's prerogative alone!
Hail rosy laughter! thou deserv'dst the bays!
Come with thy dimples, animate these lays,
Whilst universal peals attest thy praise,
Daughter of joy! thro' thee we health attain,
The Esculapian recipes are vain.
Let sentimentalists ring in our ears
The tender joy of grief-the luxury of tears--
Heraclitus may whine-and oh! and ah!-
I like an honest, hearty, ha, hah, hah!
It makes the wheels of nature gliblier play;
Dull care suppresses; smooths life's thorny way;
Propels the dancing current through each vein;
Braces the nerves; corroborates the brain;
Shakes ev'ry muscle, and throws of the spleen.
Old Homer makes yon tenants of the skies,
His Gods, love laughing as they did their eyes!
It kept in them good humour, hush'd their squabbles,
As froward children are appeas'd by baubles;
Ev'n Jove, the thund'rer, dearly lov'd a laugh,
When of fine nectar he had taken a quaff!
It helps digestion when the feast runs high,
And dissipates the fumes of potent Burgundy.
But, in the main, tho' laughing I approve,
It is not ev'ry kind of laugh I love;
For many laughs e'en candour must condeinn!
Some are too full of acid, some of phlegm;
The loud horse laugh (improperly so stil'd,)
The idiot pimper, like the slumb'ring child,
Th' affected laugh, to show a dimpled chin,
The sneer contemptuous, and broad vacant grin,
Are despicable all as Strephon's smile,
To show his ivory legions, rank and file.
The honest laugh, unstudied, unacquir'd,
By nature prompted, and true wit inspir'd;
Such as Quin felt, and Fallstaff knew before,
When humour set the table in a roar;
Alone deserves th' applauding muse's grace!
The rest is all contortion and grimace.
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