In ftudy fome protract the silent hours, Which others confecrate to mirth and wine And fleep till noon, and hardly live till night. But furely this redeems not from the shades One hour of life.

The body, fresh and vigorous from repose,
Defies the early fogs: but, by the toils
Of wakeful day, exhaufted and unftrung,
Weakly refifts the night's unwholesome breath.
The grand difcharge, th' effufion of the skin,
Slowly impair'd, the languid maladies
Creep on, and thro' the fickning functions steal.
So, when the chilling east invades the spring,
The delicate Narcifus pines away

In hectic languor; and a flow disease
Taints all the family of flow'rs, condemn'd
To cruel heav'ns. But why, already prone
To fade, fhould beauty cherish its own bane ?
O fhame! O pity! nipt with pale quadrille,
And midnight cares, the bloom of Albion dies!

He then points out the reason why those who labour obtain fo much refreshment from fleep, while the indolent hardly find any relief.

By toil fubdu'd, the warrior and the hind

Sleep faft and deep: their active functions foon
With generous Areams the fubtile tubes fupply;
And foon the tonick irritable nerves

Feel the fresh impulse and awake the foul.
The fons of Indolence, with long repose,
Grow torpid; and with floweft Letke drunk,
Feebly and lingringly return to life,
Elunt every fenfe, and pow'rlefs every limb.

This paffage he concludes, by recommending a hard matrass, or elastic couch, to those who are too much prone to fleep, in order to wean them from floth. But he juftly obferves, that fome people require more, others lefs fleep, and that all changes of this fort are to be brought about by gentle means. And

Slow as the fhadow o'er the dial moves,
Slow as the stealing progrefs of the year.

As it was neceffary under this article to say something about cloathing the body, the author makes a few juft obfervations on the variations of the seasons; which he concludes with thefe lines.

The cold and torrid reigns,.
The two great periods of th' important year,
Are in their first approaches feldom fafe :
Funereal autumn all the fickly dread,
And the black fates deform the lovely spring.
He well advis'd who taught our wiser fires
Early to borrow Muscovy's warm fpoils,
Ere the first frost has touch'd the tender blade ;
And late refign them, tho' the wanton spring
Should deck her charms with all her fifter's rays
For while the effluence of the skin maintains
Its native measure, the pleuritic spring
Glides harmless by; and autumn, fick to death
With fallow quartans, no contagion breathes.

We have already obferved, that allufions to ancient fables or historical facts have a fine effect in preceptive poems. In this before us the author, when confidering the different shapes in which death approaches the human race, takes notice of the blood fpilt by the Plantagenets, and of the sweating fickness, which swept off fuch amazing numbers of Englishmen in every clime, and of Englishmen only; for foreigners, tho' refiding in this country, were no ways affected with that diforder: and this, tho' a fubject incapable, as it were, of ornament, he has wrought up with so much art, that it is both pathetic and pleafing.

What he has faid on the paffions, the fubject of the fourth book, begins with the following reflection, which is truly philofophical, and very properly introduces the fentiments that follow it.

There is, they fay, (and I believe there is) A fpark within us of th' immortal fire,

That animates and moulds the groffer frame ;
And when the body finks escapes to heav'n,
Its native feat, and mixes with the Gods.
Mean while this heav'nly particle pervades
The mortal elements, in every nerve

It thrills with pleasure, or grows mad with pain,
And, in its fecret conclave, as it feels
The body's woes and joys, this ruling power
Wields at its will the dull material world,
And is the body's health or malady.

By its own toil the grofs corporeal frame
Fatigues, extenuates, or deftroys itself.

Nor lefs the labours of the mind corrode
The solid fabric: for by subtle parts,
And viewlefs atoms, fecret nature moves
The mighty wheels of this ftupendous world.
By fubtle fluids pour'd thro' fubtle tubes
The natural, vital, functions are perform'd.
By these the stubborn aliments are tam'd;
The toiling heart distributes life and strength;
These the ftill-crumbling frame rebuild; and these
Are loft in thinking, and diffolve in air.

But 'tis not thought, as he obferves, (for every moment the mind is employ'd) 'tis painful thinking; 'tis the anxiety that attends fevere ftudy, difcontent, care, love, hatred, fear and jealousy, that fatigues the foul and impairs the body.

Hence the lean gloom that melancholy wears;
The lover's palenefs; and the fallow hue
Of envy, jealoufy; the meagre ftare
Of fore revenge the canker'd body hence
Betrays each fretful motion of the mind.

For reading he gives us a precept that may be extremely useful to the ftudious.

While reading pleases, but no longer, read;
And read aloud refounding Homer's strain,
And wield the thunder of Demofthenes.
The cheft fo exercis'd improves its ftrength;

And quick vibrations thro' the bowels drive
The reftlefs blood, which in unactive days
Would loiter elfe thro' unelastic tubes.
Deem it not trifling while I recommend
What pofture fuits: To ftand and fit by turns,
As nature prompts, is beft. But o'er your leaves
To lean for ever, cramps the vital parts,
And robs the fine machinery of its play.
'Tis the great art of life to manage well
The reftless mind. For ever on pursuit
Of knowledge bent, it ftarves the groffer powers:
Quite unemploy'd, against its own repose
It turns its fatal edge, and fharper pangs
Than what the body knows embitter life.

After this the poet gives us a ftriking picture of the dreadful effects of our mifguided paffions, which is heightened with many admirable reflections, fome of which I fhall here infert.

For while yourself you anxiously explore,
Timorous felf-love, with fickning fancy's aid,
Prefents the danger that you dread the most,
And ever galls you in your tender part.
Hence fome for love, and some for jealousy,
For grim religion fome, and fome for pride,
Have loft their reafon: fome for fear of want,
Want all their lives; and others every day
For fear of dying fuffer worse than death.

And what avails it, that indulgent heaven
From mortal eyes has wrapt the woes to come;
If we, ingenious to torment ourselves,
Grow pale at hideous fictions of our own?
Enjoy the prefent; nor with needlefs cares,
Of what may fpring from blind misfortune's womb,
Appal the fureft hour that life beftows.
Serene, and mafter of yourself, prepare
For what may come; and leave the reft to heav'n.

And those chronic paffions which fpring from real woes, and from no diforder in the body, are not to be reafon'd down, as he obferves, but to be cured by fuch

diverfions or bufinefs as will fill the mind, or remove it from the object of its concern.

Go, foft enthufiaft! quit the cypress groves, Nor to the rivulet's lonely moanings tune Your fad complaint. Go, feek the chearful haunts Of men, and mingle with the bustling croud; Lay schemes for wealth, or power, or fame, the wish Of nobler minds, and push them night and day. Or join the caravan in quest of scenes New to your eyes, and shifting every hour.

He then inveighs againft drinking, the common refource in diforders of this kind, and observes, that, tho' the intoxicating draught may relieve for a time; the pains will return with ten-fold rage. And this he illuftrates with a beautiful fimile.

But foon your heav'n is gone, a heavier gloom
Shuts o'er your head and, as the thund'ring ftream,
Swoln o'er its banks with fudden mountain rain,
Sinks from its tumult to a filent brook ;
So, when the frantic raptures in your breast
Subfide, you languish into mortal man ;
You fleep, and waking find yourself undone.
For prodigal of life in one rash night
You lavish'd more than might fupport three days.

He then points out the mischiefs that attend drunkennefs; fuch as lofing friends by unguarded words, or doing rafh deeds that are never to be forgotten (but which may haunt a man with horror to his grave) the lofs of money, health and decay of parts; and then pays a grateful filial tribute to the memory of his father; whose advice on the conduct of life he thus recommends.

How to live happieft; how avoid the pains,
The difappointments, and difgufts of those
Who would in pleafure all their hours employ ;
The precepts here of a divine old man
I could recite. Tho' old, he still retained
His manly fenfe, and energy of mind.