to be found upon the Statute Book. Its power is placed in the best and most unexceptionable hands; and the temperate and judicious application of that power, is desired by a great majority of the individuals of all classes in this country. Let us then hope, that the Law will no longer remain a dead letter; but that the tragic and comic Muses, will soon appear in their genuine and natural characters;-the enemies of vice, the correctors of folly, and the allies of virtue.

IN

To the Editor of the Director.
Sir,

In your last number, you obliged me by the insertion of two specimens of QUARLES's style, taken from the first part of his Meditations;' I shall now claim the further indulgence of your inserting two specimens taken from the second part, in which, as I before observ

ed, the previous reflections are of a gloomy and desponding nature-but the Soliloquy reproves, and the Prayer admi

nisters consolation.

THE WIDOW'S DISTRESS.

"So vain, so momentary are the pleasures of this world; so transitory is the happiness of mankind, that, what with the expectation that goes before it, and the cares that go with it, and the griefs that follow it-we are not more unhappy in the wanting it, than miserable in the enjoying it the greatest of all worldly joys, are but bubbles full of air, that break with the fulness of their own vanity, and but, at best, like Jonah's gourd, which please us while they last, and vex us in the loss. Past and future happiness are the miseries of the time present, and present happiness is but the passage to approaching misery; which being transitory, and meeting with a transitory possessor, perish in the very using. What was mine yesterday, in the blessedness of a

full fruition, to-day hath nothing left of it but a sad remembrance, it was mine! the more I call to mind the joys 1 had, the more sensible I am of the misery I have. My sun is set, my glory is darkened, and not one star appears in the firmament of my little world: he, from whose loins I came, is taken from me: he, to whose bosom I returned, is taken from me: my blessings in the one, my comforts in the other, are taken from me: and what is left to me, but a poor third part of myself, to bewail the loss of the other two. I, that was owned by the tender name of a child, am now known by the off-cast title of an orphan; I, that was respected by the honourable title of a wife, am now rejected by the despisable name of a widow: I, that flourished like a fruitful vine upon the house top, am now neglected and trodden underfoot: he, that like a strong wall supported my tender branches, is fallen, and left my clusters to the spoil of ravenous swine: the spring-tides of my plenty are spent, and I am gravelled on the low ebbs of

all wants the sonnets of my mirth are turned to elegies of mourning: my glory is put out, and my honour grovels on the dust: I call to my friends, and they neglect me: I spread forth my hands, and there is none to help me: my beauty is departed from me, and all my joys are swallowed up.

"BUT stay, my soul, plunge not too far; shall not He take, that gave? Cannot He that took, restore? The Lord is thy portion, who saith,

I will be an husband to the widow, and a father to the fatherless. Psal. lxviii. 5. Exod. xxii. 22, 23, 24. Ye shall not afflict any widow, or fatherless child.

If thou afflict them in any wise, and they cry at all unto me, I will surely hear their cry.

And my wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall be widows, and your children fatherless.

Mal. iii. v.

I will be a swift witness against those that oppress the widow and the fatherless. James i. 27.

Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widow in their affliction.

Her Soliloquy.

How hath the sunshine of truth discovered what appeared not by the candlelight of nature! How many atoms in thy soul hath this light descried, which, in thy natural twilight, were not visible ! Excessive sadness for so great a loss, can want no arguments from flesh and blood; which arguments can want no weight, if weighed in the partial balance of nature. A husband is thyself, divided: thy children thyself, multiplied; for whom, (when snatched away) God allows some grains to thy affection: but when they exceed the allowance, they will not pass in Heaven's account, but must be coined again. Couldst thou so often offend thy God, without a tear? and cannot he, my