To rougher man Ambition's task resign: 'Tis ours in senates or in courts, to shine, To labour for a sunk, corrupted state, Or dare the rage of Envy, and be great. One only care your gentle breasts should move, Th' important business of your life is love; To this great point direct your constant aim, This makes your happiness, and this your fame.

Be never cool reserve with passion join'd; With caution choose; but then be fondly kind. The selfish heart, that but by halves is giv'n, Shall find no place in Love's delightful heav'n; Here sweet extremes alone can truly bless: The virtue of a lover is excess.

A maid unask'd may own a well-plac'd flame; Nat loving first, but loving wrong, is shame.

Contenan the little pride of giving pain,
Nor tlink that conquest justifies disdain.
Short is che period of insulting pow'r:
Offended Cupid finds his vengeful hour ;
Soon will resume the empire which he gave,
And soon the tyrant shall become the slave,

Blest is the maid, and worthy to be blest,
Whose soul, entire hy him she loves possess’d,
Feels ev'ry vanity in foudness, lost,
And asks no pow'r, but that of pleasing most:
Hers is the bliss, in just return, to prove

The honest warmth of undissembled love;
For her, inconstant man might cease to range,
And gratitude forbid, desire to change.

But, lest harsh care. the lovers peace destray,
And roughly blight the tender buds of joy,
Let Reason Teach what Passion fain would hide,
That Hymeni's bands by Prudence should be tied,
Venus in vain the wedded pair would crown,
If angry fortune on their union frown :
Soon will the flatt'ring dream of bliss be o'er,
And cloy'd imagination cheat no more.
Then, waking to the sense of lasting pain,
With mutual tears the nuptial couch they stain;
And that fond love, which should afford relief,
Does but increase the anguish of their grief :
While both could easier their own sorrows bear,
Than the sad knowledge of each other's care.

Yet may you rather feel that virtuous pain,
Than sell your violated charms for gain;
Than wed the wretch, whom you despise or hate,
For the vain glare of useless wealth or state.

E'en in the happiest choice, where fav’ring Heap'o Has equal love and easy fortune giv'n, Think not, the husband gain'd, that all is done : The prize of happiness must still be won : And oft, the careless find it to their cost, The lover in the husband may be lost. The Graces might alone his heart allure; They and the Virtues meeting rust secure.

Let e’en your prudence wear the pleasing dress Of care for him, and anxious tenderness. From kind concern about his weal or wo, Let each domestic duty seem to flow. The household sceptre if he bids you bear, Make it your pride his servant to appear: Endearing thus the common acts of life, The mistress still shall charm him in the wife; And wrinkled age shall unobserv'd come on, Before his eye perceives one beauty gone; E'en o'er your cold, your ever sacred urn, His constant flame shall unextinguish'd burn.

Thus I, Belinda, would your charms improve,
And form your heart to all the arts of love.
The task were harder, to secure my own
Against the pow'r of those already known:
For well you twist the secret chains, that bind
With gentle force the captivated mind,
Skill'd ev'ry soft attraction to employ,
Each flatt’ring hope, and each alluring joy;
I own your genius, and from receive
The rules of pleasing, which to you I give.

LORD LYTTLETON.

you

GOVERNMENT OF THE TEMPER. PEEVISHNESS, though not so violent and fatal in it's immediate effects, is still more unamiable than passion, and, if possible, more destructive of happiness, inasmuch as it operates more continually. Though the fretful man injures us less, he disgusts us more than the passionate one, because he betrays a low and little mind, intent on trifles, and engrossed by a paltry sel-love; which knows not how to bear the very apprehcnsion of any inconvenience, It is self-love, then, which we , must combat, when we find ourselves assaulted by this infirmity ; and, by voluntarily enduring inco::weniences, we shall habituate ourselves to bear them with ease and good humour, when occasioned by others. Perhaps this is the best kind of religious mortification, as the chief end of denying ourselves any innocent indulgences must be to acquire a habit of command over our passions and inclinations, particularly such as are likely to lead us into evil. And though the aged and infirm are most liable to this evil (and they alone are to be pitied for it); yet we sometimes see the young, the healthy, and those who enjoy most outward blessings, inexcusably guilty of it.

D

The smallest disappointment in pleasure, or difficulty in the most trifling employment, will put wilful young people out of temper; and their very amusements frequently become sources of vexation and peevishness. How often have I seen a girl, preparing for a ball, or for some other public appearance, unable to satisfy her own vanity, fret every ornament she put on, quarrel with her maid, with her clothes, her hair; and, growing still more unlovely as she grew more cross, be ready to fight with her looking-glass for not making her as handsome as she wished to be! She did not consider, that the traces of this ill humour on her countenance would be a greater disadvantage to her appearance, than any defect in her dress, or even than the plainest features, enlivened by joy and good humour. There is a degree of resignation necessary even to the enjoyment of pleasure; we 'must be ready and willing to give up some part of what 'we could wish for, before we can enjoy that which is indulged to us. I have no doubt, that she, who frets all the while she is dressing for an assembly, will suffer still "greater uneasiness when she is there. The same craving, restless vanity will there endure a thousand mortifications, which, in the midst of seeming pleasure, will secretly cor'rode her heart; while the meek and humble generally find more gratification than they expected, and return home pleased and enlivened from every scene of amusement, though they could have staid away from it with perfect ease and contentment.

MRS. CHAPONE.

INSUFFICIENCY OF BEAUTY.
SAY why are beauties prais’d and honour'd most,
The wise man's passion, and the vain man's toast?
Why deck'd with all that land and sea afford,
Why angels call'd, and angel like ador'd?

Why round our coaches crowd the white-glov'd

beaux ? Why bows the sidebox from it's inmost rows ? How vain are all these glories, all our pains, Unless good sense preserve what beauty gains : That men may say, when we the front box grace, Behold the first in virtue as in face! Oh! if to dance all night and dress all day, Charm'd the smallpox, or chas’d old age away, Who would not scorn what housewife's cares produce, Or who would learn one earthly thing of use? To patch, nay ogle, might become a saint; Nor could it sure be such a sin to paint. But since, alas! frail beauty must decay; Curld or uncurl'd, since locks will turn to gray; Since painted, or not painted, all shall fade, And she who scorns a man must die a maid ; What then remains but well our pow'r to use, And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose ? And trust me, dear! good humour can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail : Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul."

Pope,

VIRTUOUS LOVE.
DELIGHTFUL task! to rear the tender thought,
To teach the young idea how to shoot,
To
pour

the fresh instruction o'er the mind,
To breathe th' enlivening spirit, and to fix
The gen'rous purpose in the glowing breast.
O speak the joy ! ye, whom the sudden tear
Surprises often, while you look around
And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss,