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“ But to make peace within ;—that peace to make, “ What sums I lavish! and what gains forsake! “ Cheer up, my heart !-let's cast off every doubt, “ Pray without dread, and place our money out."

Such the religion of a mind that steers Its way to bliss, between its hopes and fears ; Whose passions in due bounds each other keep, And thus subdued, they murmur till they sleep ; Whose virtues all their certain limits know, Like well-dried herbs that neither fade nor grow; Who for success and safety ever tries, And with both worlds alternately cor plies.

Such are the guardians of this bless'd estate, Whate'er without, they ’re fraised within the gate; That they are men, and have their faults, is true, But here their worth alone appears in view: The Muse indeed, who reads the very breast, Has something of the secrets there express'd, But yet in charity ;-and when she sees Such means for joy or comfort, health or ease, And knows how much united minds effect, She almost dreads their failings to detect; But truth commands :-in man's erroneous kind, Virtues and frailties mingle in the mind; Happy!—when fears to public spirit move, And even vices to the work of love.

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Bene paupertas
Humili tecto contenta latet.


Omnes quibu' res sunt minu' secundæ, magi' sunt, nescio quo modo,
Suspiciosi; ad contumeliam omnia accipiunt magis;
Propter suam impotentiam se semper credunt negligi.

Terent. in Adelph. Act 4. Scene 3.

Show not to the poor thy pride,

Let their home a cottage be;
Nor the feeble body hide

In a palace fit for thee;

Let him not about him see
Lofty ceilings, ample halls,

Or a gate his boundary be,
Where nor friend or kinsman calls.

Let him not one walk behold,

That only one which he must tread,
Nor a chamber large and cold,
Where the aged and sick are led;

Better far his humble shed,
Humble sheds of neighbours by,

And the old and tatter'd bed,
Where he sleeps and hopes to die.

To quit of torpid sluggishness the cave,
And from the pow'rful arms of sloth be free,
"Tis rising from the dead-Alas! it cannot be.

Thomson's Castle of Indolence.

The Method of treating the Borough Paupers-Many main

tained at their own Dwellings-Some Characters of the Poor, The School-mistress, when aged—The IdiotThe poor

Sailor-The declined Tradesman and his Companion—This contrasted with the Maintenance of the Poor in a common Mansion erected by the Hundred The Objections to this Method: not Want, nor Cruelty, but the necessary Evils of this ModeWhat they areInstances of the Evil-A Return to the Borough PoorThe Dwellings of these—The Lanes and By-ways-No Attention here paid to Convenience—The Pools in the Path-ways-Amusements of Sea-port Children - The Town-Flora-Herbs on Walls and vacant Spaces—A female Inhabitant of an Alley-A large Building let to several


Inhabitants, Their Manners and Habits.




Yes! we've our Borough-vices, and I know
How far they spread, how rapidly they grow;
Yet think not virtue quits the busy place,
Nor charity, the virtues' crown and grace.

“ Our poor, how feed we?”—To the most we give
A weekly dole, and at their homes they live;
Others together dwell,—but when they come
To the low roof, they see a kind of home,
A social people whom they've ever known,
With their own thoughts and manners like their own.

At her old house, her dress, her air the same, I see mine ancient letter-loving dame:

Learning, my child,” said she, “ shall fame command; Learning is better worth than house or land“ For houses perish, lands are gone and spent ; “ In learning then excel, for that 's most excellent.”




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