For warfare all unfit;

He whispered to the royal dunce,

And gained a settlement at once;
His weapon was,—his wit.

3. One summer, by some fatal spell,
(Phoebus was peevish for some scoff,)
The plague upon that city fell,

And swept the beasts by thousands off.
The lion, as became his part,

Loved his own people from his heart,
And taking counsel sage,
His peerage summoned to advise
And offer up a sacrifice,

To soothe Apollo's rage.

4. Quoth lion: "We are sinners all,
And even it must be confessed,
If among sheep I chance to fall,-
I, I am guilty as the rest.
To me the sight of lamb is curst,
It kindles in my throat a thirst,—
I struggle to refrain,-

Poor innocent! his blood so sweet!
His flesh so delicate to eat!

I find resistance vain.

5. "Now to be candid, I must own

The sheep are weak and I am strong,
But when we find ourselves alone,
The sheep have never done me wrong.
And, since I purpose to reveal
All my offences, nor conceal

One trespass from your view;

My appetite is made so keen,
That with the sheep the time has been
I took the shepherd too.

6. "Then let us all our sins confess,
And whosoe'er the blackest guilt,
To ease my people's deep distress,
Let his atoning blood be spilt.
My own confession now you hear,
Should none of deeper dye appear,
Your sentence freely give;

And if on me should fall the lot,
Make me the victim on the spot,
And let my people live."

7. The council with applauses rung,
To hear the Codrus of the wood;
Though still some doubt suspended hung,
If he would make his promise good,-
Quoth Reynard,-" Since the world was made,
Was ever love like this displayed?

Let us like subjects true

Swear, as before your feet we fall,
Sooner than you should die for all,
We all will die for you.

8. "But please your majesty, I deem,
Submissive to your royal grace,

You hold in far too high esteem
That paltry, poltroon, sheepish race;
For oft, reflecting in the shade,
I ask myself why sheep were made
By all-creating power?

And howsoe'er I tax my mind,
This the sole reason I can find,

For lions to devour.

9. "And as for eating now and then,

As well the shepherd as the sheep,—
How can that braggart breed of men

Expect with you the peace to keep?

'Tis time their blustering boast to stem,
That all the world was made for them,
And prove creation's plan;
Teach them by evidence profuse
That man was made for lion's use,
Not lions made for man."

10. And now the noble peers begin,

And, cheered with such examples bright,
Disclosing each his secret sin,

Some midnight murder brought to light;
Reynard was counsel for them all,
No crime the assembly could appal,
But he could botch with paint:
Hark! as his honeyed accents roll,
Each tiger is a gentle soul:

Each blood-hound is a saint.

11. When each had told his tale in turn,

The long-eared beast of burden came,
And meekly said: "My bowels yearn
To make confession of my shame;
But I remember on a time

I passed, not thinking of a crime,
A haystack on my way :

His lure some tempting demon spread,
I stretched across the fence my head,
And cropped, a lock of hay."

12. "Oh, monster! villain!" Reynard cried,"No longer seek the victim, sire; Nor why your subjects thus have died,

To expiate Apollo's ire."

The council with one voice decreed;

All joined to execrate the deed,—

"What, steal another's grass!"

The blackest crime their lives could show,
Was washed as white as virgin snow;
The victim was,-THE Ass!

COLORING THINGS TOO HIGHLY.

1. "If there be any one mannerism," says Ephraim Holding, "that is universal among mankind, it is that of coloring too highly things we describe. We cannot be content with a simple relation of truth-we must exaggerate—we must overdraw-we must have 'a little too much red in the brush.' Who ever heard of a dark night that was not 'pitch dark?” -of a stout man that was not 'strong as a horse ?'—or of a miry road that was not 'up to the knees?' I would walk 'fifty miles on foot' to see the man who never caricatures the subject on which he speaks; but where is such a one to be found?

2. "From 'rosy morn to dewy eve,' in our common conversation, we are constantly outraging the truth. If somewhat wakeful in the night, we have 'scarcely had a wink of sleep;' if our sleeves get a little damp in a shower, we are 'as wet as if dragged through a brook;' if a breeze blow up while we are in the 'chops of the Channel,' the waves are sure to 'run mountains high;' and if a man grow rich, we all say that he rolls in money.' No later than yesterday, a friend of mine, who would shrink from a wilful misrepresentation, told me hastily, as he passed, that the newspaper had 'nothing in it but advertisements,' and that he had just sent off, by the Shrewsbury coach, a codfish as 'big as a jackass!'

3. "Every newspaper has its 'Bargains,' its 'Great Savings,' and its Immense Sacrifices.' 'Fish all alive' is not too strong a term for the unbearably tainted, scaly fry offered for sale. The Irish cloth of the mercer is 'fine as cambric;'the stale meat of the butcher 'sweet as a nut'-and the cheese-monger's hard, tough, lean cheese, 'as fat as butter.'

METAPHYSICS-A LUMINOUS CONVERSATION.

1. "PRAY, Doctor," said Uncle Tim, "tell me something about metaphysics; I have often heard of that science, but never for my life could find out what it was.”

66

Metaphysics," said the Doctor, "is the science of abstrac

tions."

"I'm no wiser for that explanation," said Uncle Tim.

"It treats," said the Doctor, "of matters most profound and sublime, a little difficult perhaps for a common intellect, or an unschooled capacity to fathom, but not the less important on that account to all living beings."

2. "What does it teach ?" asked the schoolmaster.

"It is not applied so much to the operation of teaching," answered the Doctor, "as to that of inquiring; and the chief inquiry is, whether things are, or whether they are not."

"I don't understand the question," said Uncle Tim, taking the pipe out of his mouth.

"For example, whether this earth on which we tread,” said the Doctor, giving a heavy stamp on the floor, and setting his foot slap on the cat's tail," whether this earth does really exist, or whether it does not exist."

3. "That is a point of considerable consequence to settle," said my grandfather.

"Especially," added the schoolmaster, "to the holders of real estate."

"Now the earth," continued the Doctor, "may exist—” "Who the dogs ever doubted that ?" asked Uncle Tim. "A great many men," said the Doctor, "and some very learned ones."

4. Uncle Tim stared a moment, and then began to fill up his pipe, whistling the tune of High Betty Martin, while the Doctor went on :

"The earth, I say, may exist, although Bishop Berkeley has proved beyond all possible gainsaying or denial, that it