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2 A friend to mankind, all mankind was his friend, And the peace of his mind was his ultimate end, He found fault with none, if none found fault

with him, If his friend had a humour, he humour'd his

whim. He thought 'twas unsocial to be malcontent, If the tide went with him, with the tide too he

went, But still turn'd his back on contention and strife, Resolving to live all the days of his life.

3

Was the nation at war, he wish'd well to the

sword, If a peace was concluded, then peace was his word: Disquiet to him, or of bo dy or mind, Was the Longitude only he never could find : The Philosophers' stone was but gravel and

pain, And all who had sought it had all sought in

vain, He still turn'd his back on contention and strife, Resolving to live all the days of his life.

4

Then let us all follow Aristippus's rules,
And deem his opponents both asses and mules;

Let those, not contented to lead or to drive, Like the bees of their sects be drove out of their

hive: Expell’d from the mansions of quiet and ease, They never will find the blest art how to please; While our friends and ourselves, not forgetting

our wives, By these maxims may live all the days of our

lives.

IV.

LAUGH AND GROW FAT.*

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To rival the miser who broods o'er his plum, Or to envy the great, I shall never presume.

* The sentiments of this song must of course be understood in tbat happy medium, so difficult, but so desirable to be obtained, between gloom and moroseness, on the one hand, and excessive langhter on the other. (See p. 196.) Something bas been said on this subject before, p. 96. Writers upon The Passions, and on Medicine mention the beneficial effects of moderate laughter. See Cogan on the Passions, Pt. I. Ch. ii. Art. Joy, &c. Dallas on Self-knowledge, Pt. III. Sect. iji. on Mirth. Encyc. Brit. Art. Laughter, and Buchan's Do

Tho' wealth to mankind as a blessing was sent, With much or with little I'm always content ; Then, should I grow rich, I'll ne'er murmur

at that, Or, if I grow poor, still I laugh and grow

fat.

2 Tho' patriots and placemen each other abuse, "Tis nothing to me, I've no pension to lose. Tho' they levy new taxes, for me, I protest I will not complain whilst I fare like the rest ; So, if Outs become Ins, I'll ne'er murmur at

that, Or, if Ins become Outs, still I'll laugh and

grow fat.

3

Tho' love, I confess, is a part of my care,
And Celia's 66 the fairest of all that are fair,"
Altho' I'm enamour'd, I'm not such an elf
As to think of my mistress and not of myself;

mestic Medicine ch. xxxvi, on The Jaundice. Laughter is mentioned in Scripture in some degree as a Blessing," Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh.” (Luke vi. 21.) “ Then was our mouth filled with laughter and our tongue with joy.” (Psalm cxxvi. 2.) And, in that beautiful composition the sixty-fifth Psalm, laughter is even attributed to the inanimate creation : “ the valleys also shall stand so thick with corn that they shall laugh and sing.” (V. 14.) See also my Discourses on the Stage, Disc. III. p. 52, &c.

If she smiles, then, of course, I'll ne'er murmur

at that, Or if she should frown, still I'll laugh and

grow fat.

4 When I urge the soft plea, should she kindly

incline To crown my fond wish, and consent to be

mine, I'd seize the blest moments, and make her my

wife, In hope of contentment and pleasure for life; Tho' cares should ensue, I'll ne'er murmur at

that, But all my life long will I laugh and grow

fat.

V.

FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE.

FROM THE OPERA OF FONTAINBLEAU.

BY O'KEEFE.

1

Tho' Fame sound the trumpet and cry “ To

the war,"

Tho' Glory re-ecbo the strain ;

The full tide of honour may flow from the scar,

And heroes may smile on their pain;
The treasures of Autumn tho? Bacchus display,

And stagger about with his bowl,
On science tho’ Sol beam the lustre of day,
And Wisdom give light to the soul :

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Tho' India unfold her rich gems to the view,

Each virtue, each joy to improve, Oh! give me the Friend, whom I know to be true,

And the Fair, whom I tenderly love: What's Glory, but Pride ? a vain bubble is

Fame, And riot the pleasure of wine ; What's riches, but trouble.? and title's a name,

But Friendship and Love are Divine.

VI.

THE SENTIMENTALIST.

BY COLLINS.

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Now we're launch'd on the world

With our sails all unfurl'd, 'Fore the wind down the tide proudly posting,

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