rightful owners, whose conduct would, I doubt not, reflect a lustre on the power whose representatives they are. Let those whose petty ambition soars above the appellation of an English merchant, remember, that virtue alone ennobles the soul; and those who think wealth the sum mum bonum of life, recollect, that

"Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow."

I shall conclude this paper with the following history. Mercator was the only son of a reputable retail tradesman in a corporate town in the. north of England. At his father's death, he succeeded to his business, and being honest in his dealings, and attentive to customers, he was generally respected by his townsmen. With his first wife he enjoyed several years of domestic happiness, until she was separated from him by death, leaving him a widower with three children, in the prime of life. For some time, this loss was severely felt by him; but meeting with a lady of considerable fortune, he was dazzled with her wealth, paid his addresses to her, and was married. The acquisition of riches proved the cause of his subsequent misfortunes. At the repeated importunities of his wife, he gave up his shop, embarked his property in shipping, of which he was totally ignorant, and commenced

gentleman. In a short time after, he was elected to the magistracy of the town,-and intoxicated with pride at the addition of Esquire to his name, he forgot all his former acquaintance. But, whilst big with self-importance he disgusted all who knew him, intelligence was brought of the total loss of his most valuable ship. The news was too much for his already half-turned head to bear; he grew dejected at the reverse of fortune, and was one morning found hanging dead in his chamber, an example of the ill effects of petty ambition in the middling stations of life.

C.

NUMBER 9.

There be, perhaps, who barren hearts avow,
Cold as the rocks on Torneo's hoary brow;
There be, whose loveless wisdom never fail'd,
In self-adoring pride securely mail'd:-

But triumph not, ye peace-enamoured few:
Fire, Nature, Genius, never dwelt with you!
For you no fancy consecrates the scene,

Where Rapture utter'd vows, and wept between!

And say without our hopes, without our fears,
Without the home that plighted love endears,
Without the smile from partial Beauty won,
O! what were man?-a World without a Sun!

CAMPBELL'S PLEASURES OF HOPE.

THE VISION OF BACHELORS.

Ir is generally my custom, after the business of the day is concluded, to spend an hour or two in the perusal of some work, which, by forcibly engaging my attention, and affording matter for contemplation, may operate as an anodyne, in allaying the cares and agitations resulting from a close intercourse with the scenes of active life. Last evening, I happened to take up a volume of Plutarch, and opened upon that part wherein the regulations instituted at Sparta by the celebrated Lycurgus, are detailed. I was particu

larly struck with the laws respecting celibacy, by which bachelors, after passing a certain age, were rendered liable to a prosecution for remaining unmarried; and, at the command of the magistrate, were compelled, in the depth of winter, to go naked round the streets of Sparta, singing a song in which themselves were held up to ridicule. Other measures of a similar nature were also adopted, calculated to render the nuptial state honourable, and throw the utmost odium upon those who appeared to condemn it, unless strong reasons could be alleged in justification of their conduct.

Revolving in my mind the regulations of Lycurgus, I was insensibly led to reflect upon the contrast which they formed with the opinions and practice of my countrymen; and to this circumstance it is undoubtedly owing, that after retiring to rest, I had a most singular dream, connected in some degree with the subject which had occupied my waking meditations.

Methought I was placed in a large amphitheatre, amidst a numerous concourse of spectators. On a seat elevated above the rest, sat a venerable old man, whose grey hairs, piercing looks, and dignified deportment, drew every eye upon him. In one part of the amphitheatre stood a crowd of persons, some of whom were of the number of my

friends, and all of them past the meridian of life. An investigation of their conduct appeared about to commence; and as I was convinced that several of those with whom I was acquainted were of an irreproachable moral character, I felt a degree of surprise at their situation that nearly overpowered me. On applying for information to a person who seemed from his actions to be an officer of the court, he told me in a few words, that the venerable personage above described, was the famous Lycurgus; and that the crowd, in whose fate I had expressed so lively a concern, were of that description styled old bachelors, whom he was about to try for an offence so opposite to the spirit of those institutions which he had formerly established at Sparta.

Whilst I was musing upon the singular nature of this tribunal, my meditations were interrupted by the annunciation of the name of one of my acquaintance, who, after the charge had been read against him pro forma, was interrogated as to what he could urge in his own defencc. He began by acknowledging the justice of the accusation, but pleaded in extenuation, that the cares and vexations of a married life were such serious drawbacks upon human happiness, that he had hitherto, on this account, abstained from forming a matrimonial connexion; that in these days of