forted himself by imitating the Hibernian dialect of the one, or the more fashionable cant of the other. Nothing came amiss' to him. His inattention to money matters had concerned his father to such a degree, that all intercession of friends was fruitless. The old gentleman was on his deathbed. The whole family (and Dick among the number) gathered around him.

7. "I leave my second son, Andrew," said the expiring miser, "my whole estate'; and desire him to be frugal." Andrew, in a sorrowful tone', (as is usual on such occasions',) prayed heaven to prolong his life and health, to enjoy it himself. "I recommend Simon, my third son', to the care of his elder brother', and leave him, besides, four thousand pounds." "Ah, father'!" cried Simon', (in great affliction, to be sure',) may heaven give you life and health to enjoy it yourself`!" At last, turning to poor Dick: "As for you, you have always been a sad dog'; you'll never come to good', you'll never be rich'; I leave you a shilling to buy a halter." "Ah, father'!" cries Dick, without any emotion', "May heaven give you life and health to enjoy it yourself!"

L. THE FORTUNE-TELLER.

FROM MACKENZIE.

1. HARLEY sat down on a large stone, by the wayside, to take a pebble from his shoe, when he saw, at some distance, a beggar' approaching him. He had on a loose sort of coat, mended with different colored rags, among which the blue and russet were predominant. He had a short, knotty stick in his hand; and on the top of it was stuck a ram's horn; he wore no shoes, and his stockings had entirely lost that part of them which would have covered his feet and ankles; in his face, however, was the plump appearance of good humor; he walked a good round pace, and, a crook-legged dog trotted at his heels.

2. "Our delicacies," said Harley to himself, are fantastic; they are not in nature! That beggar' walks over the sharpest of these stones barefooted, whilst I have lost the most delightful dream in the world, from the smallest of them

happening to get into my shoe`." The beggar had by this time come up, and pulling off a piece of a hat, asked charity' of Harley. The dog began to beg too. It was impossible to resist both; and, in truth, the want of shoes and stockings had made both unnecessary', for Harley had destined sixpence for him before.

3. The beggar on receiving it, poured forth blessings without number'; and, with a sort of smile on his countenance, said to Harley "that if he wanted to have his fortune told””—Harley turned his eye briskly upon the beggar'; it was an unpromising look for the subject of a prediction', and silenced the prophet immediately. "I would much rather learn," said Harley, "what it is in your power' to tell me. Your trade must be an entertaining one; sit down on this stone, and let me know something of your profession; I have often thought of turning fortune-teller for a week or two, myself."

4. "Master'," replied the beggar', "I like your frankness much'; for I had the humor of plain dealing in me from a child; but there is no doing with it in this world; we must do as we can; and lying is, as you call it, my profession. But I was in some sort forced to the trade, for I once dealt in telling the truth. I was a laborer, sir, and gained as much as to make me live. I never laid by', indeed; for I was reckoned a piece of a wag', and your wags, I take it, are seldom rich, Mr. Harley." "So," said Harley, "you seem to know me.' "Ay', there are few folks in the country that I don't know something' of. How should I tell fortunes' else?" "True'; but go on with your story'; you were a laborer', you say, and a wag'; your industry, I suppose, you left with your old trade; but your humor you preserved to be of use to you in your new."

5. "What signifies sadness', sir? A man grows lean' on 't. But I was brought to my idleness by degrees; sickness first disabled me, and it went against my stomach to work ever after. But in truth I was for a long time so weak, that I spit blood whenever I attempted to work. I had no relation living, and I never kept a friend above a week when I was able to joke. Thus I was forced to beg my bread, and a sorry trade I have found` it, Mr. Harley'. I told all my misfortunes truly, but they were seldom believed; and the few who

gave me a half-penny as they passed, did it with a shake of the head, and an injunction not to trouble them with a long story. In short, I found that people don't care to give alms without some security for their money; such as a wooden leg', or a withered arm', for example. So I changed my plan, and instead of telling my own misfortunes, began to prophesy happiness to others'.

6. "This I found by much the better way. Folks will always listen when the tale is their own', and of many who say they do not believe in fortune-telling, I have known few on whom it had not a very sensible effect. I pick up the names of their acquaintance'; amours and little squabbles are easily gleaned from among servants and neighbors'; and indeed, people themselves' are the best intelligencers in the world for our purpose. They dare not puzzle us for their own' sakes, for every one is anxious to hear what they wish to believe; and they who repeat it, to laugh at it when they have done, are generally more serious than their hearers are apt to imagine. With a tolerably good memory, and some share of cunning, I succeed reasonably well as a fortuneteller. With this, and showing the tricks of that dog, I make shift to pick up a livelihood.

7. "My trade is none of the most honest, yet people are not much cheated after all, who give a few half-pence for a prospect of happiness, which I have heard some persons say, is all a man can arrive at, in this' world. But I must bid you good-day', sir; for I have three miles to walk before noon, to inform some boarding-school young ladies, whether their husbands are to be peers of the realm, or captains in the army'; a question which I promised to answer them by that time.”

8. Harley had drawn a shilling from his pocket'; but Virtue bade him to consider on whom he was going to bestow it. Virtue held back his arm'; but a milder form, a younger sister of Virtue's, not so severe as Virtue, nor so serious as Pity, smiled' upon him; his fingers lost their compression; nor did Virtue' appear to catch the money as it fell. It had no sooner reached the ground, than the watchful cur (a trick he had been taught) snapped it up; and, contrary to the most approved method of stewardship, delivered it immediately into the hands of his master.

LI.-SATAN, SIN, AND DEATH.
FROM MILTON.

[The following lesson requires variety of tone.]

1. MEANWHILE, the adversary of God and man',
Satan', with thoughts inflamed of highest design,
Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of hell
Explores his solitary flight`: sometimes

2.

3.

He scours the right-hand coast, sometimes the left`;
Now shaves with level wing the deep', then soars
Up to the fiery concave towering high.

At last, appear

Hell bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof,

And thrice threefold the gates; three folds were brass, Three iron, three of adamantine rock

Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire,

Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat,
On either side, a formidable shape';

The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair,
But ended foul in many a scaly fold,
Voluminous and vast', a serpent armed
With mortal sting; about her middle round,
A cry of hell hounds never ceasing barked,
With wide Cerberian mouths full loud, and rung
A hideous peal.

The other shape,

If shape it might be called, that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb;
Or substance might be called, that shadow seemed,
For each seemed either; black it stood as night',
Fierce as ten furies', terrible as hell',

And shook a dreadful dart: what seemed his head
The likeness of a kingly crown' had on.

4. Satan was now at hand, and from his seat
The monster moving onward came as fast
With horrid strides; hell trembled as he strode.
The undaunted fiend what this might be, admired—
Admired`, not feared; God and his Son except,
Created thing naught valued he, nor shunned`;
And with disdainful look thus first began:

5. (h) "Whence and what art thou, execrable shape,
That dar'st, though grim and terrible, advance

Thy miscreated front athwart my way

To yonder gates? Through them I mean to pass',
That be assured', without leave asked of thee':
Retire', or taste' thy folly; and learn by proof,
Hell-born', not to contend with spirits of heaven!"
6. To whom the goblin, full of wrath, replied:
(h) "Art thou that traitor angel', art thou he,
Who first broke peace in heaven', and faith, till then
Unbroken', and in proud rebellious arms

Drew after him the third part of heaven's sons,
Conjured against the Highest', for which both thou
And they, outcast from God', are here condemned
To waste eternal days in woe and pain'?
And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of heaven',
Hell-doomed'! and breathest defiance here and scorn,
Where I' reign king, and, to enrage thee more,
Thy`king and lord'? Back to thy punishment',
False fugitive! and to thy speed add wings;
Lest with a whip of scorpions, I pursue
Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart,
Strange horrors seize thee, and pangs unfelt before."

7. So spake the grisly terror', and in shape

So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold
More dreadful and deform. On the other side,
Incensed with indignation, Satan stood
Unterrified', and like a comet burned,
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair
Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head
Leveled his deadly aim`; their fatal hands
No second stroke intend; and such a frown
Each cast at the other', as when two black clouds
With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on
Over the Caspian`; then stand front to front,
Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow
To join their dark encounter in mid air.

8. So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell
Grew darker at the frown: so matched', they stood`;
For never but once more was either like

To meet so great a foe. And now great deeds
Had been achieved, whereof all hell had rung,
Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat

Fast by hell gate, and kept the fatal key,
Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between.