Which served his country best, let story shew,
A guilty Clodius, or good Cicero ?

Faults are in all; but here the difference lies,
Clodius had vices, Tully vanities.

Who loves mankind by social duty taught,
Will never think their good too dearly bought;
What tho' he sacrifice the vain desire

Of some gay baubles, which the world admire;
Despising riches, and abhorring power,

When blasted with the name of plunderer:
Still he may taste life's greatest good, content;
For who so happy as the innocent?

Jugurtha murder'd, bribed, and fought his way
From subject station to imperial sway;
But insecure, 'midst all his guilty state,
The man was wretched, tho' the monarch great;
Like Cromwell, daring in the doubtful fight,
But pale and trembling in the dead of night.

Two against One.

Our Grandsire Adam was full sad
Whilst he lived all alone;

On t'other hand he grew quite mad,
When once he Eve had known.

He needs must let his fair one go,
To ramble out, we find;
The devil picked her up; and so
They both against him joined.

"Twas Two to One! what could he do; In short the man was cheated;

Had he been wise, or she been true,

The devil had been defeated.

RICHARD WEST.

1716-1742.

The friend of Gray, whose friendship has preserved his name and procured him a place among the English Poets. He had written but two Poems in his native language, of which one is original.

Ode to May.

DEAR Gray! that always in my heart

Possessest far the better part,

What mean these sudden blasts that rise,
And drive the zephyrs from the skies?
O join with mine thy tuneful lay,
And invocate the tardy day.

Come fairest nymph! resume thy reign,

Bring all the graces in thy train:

With balmy breath and flowery tread
Rise from thy soft ambrosial bed,
Where in Elysian slumber bound
Embowering myrtles veil thee round.

Awake, in all thy glories drest,
Recal the zephyrs from the west;
Restore the sun, revive the skies,
At mine and Nature's call arise !
Great Nature's self upbraids thy stay,
And misses her accustom'd May.

See! all her wants demand thy aid,
The labours of Pomona fade;
A plaint is heard from every tree,
Each budding flow'ret calls for thee;
The birds forget to love and sing,
With storms alone the forests ring.

Come then with pleasure at thy side,
Diffuse thy vernal spirit wide;
Create where'er thou turn'st thy eye
Peace, plenty, love, and harmony,
Till every being share its part,

And heaven and earth be glad at heart..

JOSIAH RELPH.

Sebergham, Cumberland, 1712—1749.

The life of this interesting man has been written with much feeling by his countryman the late learned Mr. Boucher. He was the son of a Cumberland Statesman, who on a paternal inheritance which could not exceed, if it even amounted to, thirty pounds a year, brought up a family of three sons and a daughter, one of whom he educated for a learned profession. Josiah was sent first to Appleby School,-one of the many excellent schools of this country, then to Glasgow; he afterwards engaged in a grammar school in his native place, and succeeded to the perpetual curacy there, but there is no reason to believe, that his income was ever more than fifty pounds. It appears from his diary that his step-mother was harsh and unkind to him and to his sister, whom he dearly loved, the father siding with his wife; an injury which he felt the more poignantly from his having either entirely, or very near, made up to him all the expense he had been at in his education. "In a lonely dell," says Mr. Boucher, "by a murmuring stream, under the canopy of heaven, he had provided himself a table and a stool, and a little raised seat or altar of sods; hither in all his difficulties and distresses, in imitation of his Saviour, he retired and prayed; rising from his knees he generally committed to paper the meditation on which he had been employed, or the resolves he had then formed. On business and emergencies which he deemed still more momentous, he with