1. I remember having been sent, when I was a very little boy, with a message from my father to a particular friend of his, who resided in the suburbs of the town in which my parents then lived.
2. This gentleman occupied an old-fashioned house, the door of which was approached by a broad flight of stone steps of a semi-circular form. The brass knocker was an object of much interest to me, inthose days; for the whim of the maker had led him to give it the shape of an elephant's head, the trunk of the animal being the movable portion.
3. Away, then, I scampered, in great haste; and having reached the house, ran up the stone steps as usual; and, seizing the elephant's trunk, made the house reëcho to my knocking. No answer was returned.
4. At this my astonishment was considerable, as the servants, in the times I write of, were more alert and attentive than they are at present. However, I knocked a second time. Still no one came.
5. At this I was much more surprised. I looked at the house. It presented no appearance of a desertion. Some of the windows were open to admit the fresh air, for it was summer; others of them were closed. But all had the aspect of an inhabited dwelling.
6. I was greatly perplexed; and looked around, to see if any one was near who could advise me how to act. Immediately a venerable old gentleman, whom I had never seen before, came across the way, and, looking kindly in my face, advised me to knock again.
7. I did so without a moment's hesitation, and presently the door was opened,so that I had an opportunity of delivering my message. I afterward learned that the servants had been engaged in removing a heavy piece of furniture from one part of the house to the other; an operation which required their united strength, and prevented them from opening the door.
1. As I was tripping lightly homeward, I passed the kind old gentleman, about half way down the street. He took me gently by the arm; and, retaining his hold, began to address me thus, as we walked on together:
2. "The incident, my little friend, which has just occurred, may be of some use to you in after life, if it be suitably improved. Young people are usually very enthusiastic in all their undertakings, and in the same proportion are very easily discouraged.
3. "Learn, then, from what has taken place this morning, to persevere in the business which you have commenced, provided it be laudable in itself; and, ten to one, you will succeed. If you do not atfirst obtain what you aim at,knock again. A door may be opened when you least expect it.
4. "In entering on the practice of a profession, engaging in trade, or what is usually called settling in the world, young people often meet with great disappointments.
5. "Friends, whom they naturally expected to employ them, not unfrequently prefer others in the same line; and even professors of religion do not seem to consider it a duty to promote the temporal interest of their brethren in the Lord.
6. "Nevertheless, industry, sobriety, and patience, are usually accompanied by the Divine blessing. Should you therefore, my little friend, ever experience disappointments of this kind, think of the brass knocker;knock again; be sober, be diligent, and your labors will be blessed.
7. "In the pursuit of philosophy many difficulties are encountered. These the student must expect to meet; but he must not relinquish the investigation of truth, because it seems to elude his search. He may knock at the gate of science, and apparently without being heard. But let himknock again, and he will find an entrance."
1. "Do you ever pray to God? I hope and trust you do. God commands and encourages us to pray to him. But he does not always answer our prayers at the time, or in the way, we expect.
2. "What then? We know that he hears them. We know that he is a gracious God, a reconciled Father in Christ. Let usknock again. Let us ask in faith, and, if what we ask be pleasing in his sight, he will grant it in his own good time.
3. "You know who it was that said, 'Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find;knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him thatknocketh, it shall be opened.'
4. "Once more: our progress in the Divine life, even after we have wholly given ourselves to the Lord, does not always equal our wishes or expectations. We find much indwelling sin, much remaining corruption, to struggle with.
5. "But let us not despond. The grace of our Lord is sufficient for us, andhis strength is made perfect in our weakness. Let usknock again.
6. "Let us continue, with humble confidence, to do what we know to be pleasing in our Master's sight. Let us work out our own salvation, with fear and trembling; for it is God that worketh in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure."
7. We had now reached the gate of my father's garden; and the good old gentleman, taking me kindly by the hand, bid me try to remember what he had said. He then went his way, and I saw him no more.
8. I afterward endeavored to find out who he was; but I did not succeed. His advice, however, sunk deep into my mind, and has often been of singular value to me since.
9. My disposition is naturally sanguine, and my disappointments proportionably acute. But, upon calling to mind the old mansion, the brass knocker, and my venerable counselor, I have frequently been led toknock again, when I might otherwise have sat down in despondency.
10. I hope that many of my readers will derive similar benefit from the perusal of this little history; for the sole end of its publication will be answered, if the young persons under whose eyes it may come be induced, at every season of doubt and perplexity, in the exercise of simple confidence in God, toknock again.
To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven
"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven."
1. "My dear Anna," said Mrs. Elmore, as she bade her little girl farewell, "I shall be absent ten days; and as you have already had so many lessons from me respecting the manner of distributing your hours of amusement and study, I will only say to you, now, 'Make good use of your time.'"
2. Anna's eyes filled with tears as the carriage drove off, and she felt very lonely when she returned to the parlor without her mother. She thought over her mother's parting words, until she felt quite proud of the confidence reposed in her, and resolved not to abuse it by neglect.
3. She accordingly took her books and sat down to her studies, as attentively as if her mother had been waiting to hear her recitation.
4. Anna was an affectionate, intelligent child. She would have made any sacrifices to please her mother, and she really loved her studies; but her one great fault was a disposition to loiter away time.
5. This her mother well knew; and after trying admonition, until she almost feared she was increasing the evil by allowing Anna to depend too much upon her guidance, she determined to test the effect of leaving her to her own responsibility.
6. For an hour after her mother's departure, Anna sat in close attention to her studies. All at once, she started up. "I am so hungry," said she, "I must go to Betty for some luncheon;—but stop—I will finish my exercise first."
7. She wrote a line or two; then throwing down her pen, petulantly exclaimed, "There! I have made two mistakes, because I was in such a hurry;—I will not finish it till I come back."
8. So away ran the little girl to her old nurse, and the next half-hour was spent in satisfying her hunger. As she was returning, with laggard step, she happened to spy, from the window, a beautiful butterfly fluttering about the rose-bushes in the garden; and, quite forgetting her unfinished exercise, away she flew in chase of the butterfly.
9. But, agile as were her movements, the insect was too nimble for her; and after an hour's race beneath the burning sun, she returned, flushed and overheated, without having succeeded in its capture.
10. Again she applied herself to her books; but study was not so easy now as it would have been a little earlier. Anna was too tired to apply her mind to her lessons; and after loitering a while over her desk, she threw herself on the sofa, and fell into a sound sleep, from which she was only awakened by a summons to dinner.
11. After dinner, Betty proposed taking her out to walk; and though conscious that she had not performed half her duties, she had not resolution enough to refuse to go. Tying on her bonnet, she took a littlebasket on her arm, and set out with Betty to gather wild-flowers.
12. When they reached the woods, Betty sought out a mossy seat under an old tree, and, taking her work from her pocket, began to sew as industriously as if she had been at home.
13. "O Betty!" exclaimed Anna, "how can you sit and sew, when there are so many pleasant sights and sounds around you?"
14. "I can hear the pleasant sounds, my child, without looking round to see where they come from," replied Betty; "and as for the pretty sights, though I can enjoy them as much as any one, I cannot neglect my work for them.
15. "I promised your mother to have these shirts finished when she came home, and I mean to do so."—"Dear me!" said the little girl, "I wish I had brought my book, and I might have studied my lesson here."
16. "No, no, Anna," said the old woman; "little girls can't study in the woods, with the birds singing and the grasshoppers chirping around them. Better attend to your books in-doors."
17. Betty continued her sewing; and towards sunset, when they arose to return, she had stitched a collar and a pair ofwristbands, while Anna had filled her basket with flowers.
18. As they approached the village, Betty called at a poor cottage, to inquire after a sick child, and Anna was shocked at the poverty and wretchedness of the inmates. The little children were only half clothed, their faces were covered with dirt, and their rough locks seemed to bid defiance to the comb.
19. Pitying the condition of the poor little girls, Anna determined to provide them with some better clothing; and she returned home full of benevolent projects.
20. The next morning, as soon as she rose, she began to look over her wardrobe; and selecting three frocks which she had outgrown, she carried them to Betty, to alter for Mrs. Wilson's children.
21. "I shall do no such thing," said Betty; "Mrs. Wilson's children are not suffering for clothes; the weather is warm, and they are as well clad as they will be the day after they are dressed up in your finery.
22. "Mrs. Wilson is an untidy, slovenly woman; and though your mother charged me to look after her sick baby, she did not tell me to furnish new clothes for the other dirty little brats!"
23. "Well, Betty, if you don't chooseto do it, I'll try it myself."—"Pretty work you'll make of it, to be sure! you will just cut the frocks to pieces, and then they will fit nobody."
24. "Well, I am determined to fix them for those poor little ragged children," said Anna; "and if you will not help me, I will get Kitty the chambermaid to do it."
1. Anna found a very good assistant in the warm-hearted, thoughtless Irish girl. Kitty cut out the frocks, and Anna sat herself down to make them.
2. She found it rather tedious work, and, if she had not been afraid of Betty's ridicule, she would have been tempted to throw her task aside; but as Kitty promised to help her, as soon as her household duties were completed, Anna determined to persevere.
3. When night came, she had finished one frock, and begun another; so she went to bed quite happy, forgetting that, in her benevolent zeal, she had neglected her studies and her music, as well as her mother's plants and her own Canary-bird.
4. The next day, she again went to work at the frocks, and, with Kitty's assistance, they were completed before tea-time. Never was a child happier than Anna, when she saw the three little frocks spread out upon the bed.
5. A degree of self-satisfaction was mingled with her benevolence, and she began to think how pleased her mother would be to learn how hard she had worked in the cause of charity. She ran off for Betty to take her down to Mrs. Wilson's cottage; but she found Betty in no humor to gratify her.
6. "I'll have nothing to do with it!" said the old woman. "Kitty helped you to spoil your pretty frocks, and she may help you dress the dirty children;—they will look fine, to be sure, in your French calico dresses!"
7. Anna was too happy to mind Betty's scolding; so away she flew to find Kitty, and they set off together for Mrs. Wilson's cottage. When they arrived there, they found the children by the edge of the pond making dirt pies, while their faces and hands bore testimony to their industry.
8. Kitty stripped and washed them, though nothing but the bribe of a new frock could have induced them to submit to so unusual an operation. Anna almost dancedwith pleasure, when she beheld their clean faces, well-combed locks, and new dresses.
Dirt pies
9. Her mother had now been three days gone, and Anna felt that she had not quite fulfilled her trust. But she satisfied herself with the thought that two days had been devoted to a charitable purpose, and she was sure her mother would think that she had made good use of that portion of her time.
10. The fourth day, she determined to make amends for past neglect, by studying double lessons. She went to her room and locked the door, resolving to perform all her duties on that day, at least.
11. She had scarcely commenced herstudies, however, when she recollected that she had not watered her mother's plants since she had been gone. She threw down her books, and running into the garden, sought her little watering-pot; but it was not to be found.
12. She was sure she had put it either in the summer-house, or the tool-house, or under the piazza, or somewhere. After spending half an hour in search of it, she remembered that she had left it under the great elm-tree, in the field.
13. By this time, the sun was shining with full vigor upon the delicate plants; and, forgetting her mother's caution to water them only in the shade, she overwhelmed the parched leaves with a deluge of water, and went off quite content.
14. She then thought of her bird; and on examining his cage, found that he could reach neither the seed nor the water. So she replenished his cups, decorated his cage with fresh chickweed, treated him to a lump of sugar, and played with him until she had loitered away the best part of the morning.
15. Immediately after dinner, a little friend came to see her, and the rest of the day was consumed in dressing dolls, or arranging her baby-house.
1. On the fifth day, she summoned courage enough to persevere, and actually performed every task with attention.
2. In the afternoon, Betty took her out to walk, and Anna coaxed her into a visit to Mrs. Wilson's cottage. What was her indignation, as she approached the house, to see the children again playing on the margin of the duck-pond!
3. As soon as they saw her, they ran to hide themselves, but not until she had observed that their new frocks were as dirty, and almost as ragged, as the old ones. Betty did not fail to make Anna fully sensible of her own superior wisdom.
4. "I told you so, child," said she; "I told you it was all nonsense to try to dress up those dirty creatures; much good you have done, to be sure!" Anna almost cried with vexation, as she thought of all the time and labor she had wasted upon her benevolent task, and she walked home with a heavy heart.
5. The next morning, she had scarcely risen from the breakfast-table, when Kitty came to show her a beautiful little ship,which, her brother, who was a sailor, had made for her, as a token of remembrance.
Ship
6. Anna was delighted with it; nothing could be more beautiful than its graceful form, its delicate rigging and snowy sails. She begged to have it set on her table, that she might see it while she was studying, and the good-natured Kitty left it with her.
7. But in vain the heedless child tried to study; her eyes and thoughts wandered perpetually to the pretty toy before her. "How I should like to see it sail!" said she to herself. The more she looked at it, the more anxious she became to see it in the water.
8. At length, taking it carefully up, she stole down stairs, and hurried across thegarden to a little brook in the adjacent field. Here she launched her tiny bark; but it had scarcely touched the water, when it turned over on its side. She then recollected that she had once heard her father speak of the manner of ballasting a ship; so she hastened to gather a quantity of small stones, with which she filled the little cabin.
9. Again she intrusted her ship to the crystal streamlet; but, alas! the weight of the stones carried it straight to the bottom. There it lay in the pebbly channel, with the clear waters rippling above it, and the little girl stood aghast upon the brink.
10. She bared her arm, and attempted to reach it, but without success. At length, while making a desperate effort to regain it, she lost her balance, and fell into the water.
11. Fortunately, the water was not deep, and she soon scrambled out again; but she was thoroughly wet, and, having been very warm before the accident, she was now chilled to the heart.
12. Grasping the little ship, the cause of all the mischief, she hurried home, and creeping softly into the kitchen, sought her friend Kitty, to screen her from Betty's anger. By this time she was shivering with a violent ague, and Kitty carried her immediately to Betty.
13. Poor Anna! she was now obliged tobe put to bed, and to take some of Betty's bitter herb tea, seasoned too with scolding, and all kinds of evil predictions. She felt very unhappy, and cried sadly; but repentance, in this case, came too late.
14. Her head began to ache dreadfully; her skin was parched with fever, and before the next morning she was very ill. She had taken a violent cold, which brought on an attack of scarlet fever; and when Mrs. Elmore returned, she found her little daughter stretched on a bed of sickness.
15. How did that fond mother tremble, as she watched by the bedside of her darling child, uncertain whether she would ever again lift up her head from her uneasy pillow!
16. Anna did not know her mother in the delirium of fever, and her melancholy cry of "Mother! mother! come back!—I will never be so bad again!" wrung Mrs. Elmore's heart.
17. For three weeks Anna lay between life and death; and when she was at length pronounced out of danger, she was as helpless as an infant.
18. One day, as she sat propped up by pillows, she told her mother all that had passed during her absence, and awaited her decision respecting the use she had made of her time.
19. "My dear child," said Mrs. Elinore, "I trust the past will afford a lesson you will never forget. So far from having made good use of your time, you have done harm in everything you have undertaken.
20. "Your attempts at study, instead of affording you any real instruction, have only given you habits of inattention, which you will find very difficult to overcome; for your eyes have wandered over the page, while your thoughts have been with the fool's, to the ends of the earth.
21. "Your irregular care of my plants, which you thought would serve instead of habitual attention, has been the means of destroying them as effectually as if you had allowed them to perish from total neglect.
22. "Your injudicious benevolence to the Wilsons served only to make the children envious of each other, without giving them habits of neatness, which are essential to the well-being of such a family; while it had a worse effect upon yourself, because it not only wasted your precious time, but excited in you a feeling of vanity, on account of what you considered a good action.
23. "If, instead of trusting so boldly to your good resolutions, you had enteredupon your duties with an humble mind, and resolved totryto do right,—if you had apportioned your time with some degree of regularity,—you might have performed all that was required of you, enjoyed all your amusements, and gratified every kindly feeling, without a single self-reproach.
24. "As it is, you feel sensible of having failed in everything,—of having exposed yourself to great peril, and subjected your mother to great anxiety, simply from your disposition to loiter, when you should labor.
25. "I trust that, in the solitude of your sick chamber, 'the still small voice' of your many wasted hours has made itself heard, and that hereafter you will not so utterly fail to make good use of your time."
1. All the lessons in this book which you have thus far read have been in prose. I intend to give you some lessons in verse, or, as it is sometimes, but improperly called, poetry.
2. There is a great deal of differencebetween verse and poetry; but as this book is intended for those who are not quite old enough to understand all these differences, I shall not attempt at present to point them out to you.
3. But I wish you first to understand the difference, which you can see with your eye, between prose and verse. The lines of verse often end in what are calledrhymes. Thus, if one line ends with the wordfound, the next line ends with a word which sounds very much like it, asground, round, bound, sound, hound, wound.
4. These are calledrhymes. Here are a few such lines.
IMPROVEMENT OF TIME.
"Defer not till to-morrow to be wise;To-morrow's sun to thee may never rise."
BEST USE OF MONEY.
"When wealth to virtuous hands is given,It blesses like the dew of Heaven;Like Heaven, it hears the orphan's cries,And wipes the tears from widow's eyes."
5. Sometimes the rhymes occur in alternate lines; that is, two lines come together which are not rhymes, and are followed by two lines to make rhymes to both, as follows:
"Let the sweet work of prayer and praiseEmploy our youngest breath;Thus we're prepared for longer days,Or fit for early death."
6. There are some kinds of verses that do not rhyme. These are calledblankverse. Here is an example of blank verse:
"Mark well, my child, he said; this little streamShall teach thee charity. It is a sourceI never knew to fail: directed thusBe that soft stream, the fountain of thy heart.For, oh! my much-loved child, I trust thy heartHas those affections that shall bless thyself;And, flowing softly like this little rill,Cheer all that droop. The good man did not err."
7. Now, there are several things that I wish you to notice in these lines. In the first place, if you will count the syllables, you will find that there are exactly ten syllables in each line; and it is always the case, that in verse it is necessary that there should be a certain number of syllables of a certain kind.
8. What that number is, I cannot now explain to you; but you will be able to understand from a book called a grammar, which you will probably study at some future time, if you do not study it now. It is contained in that part of grammar called Prosody.
9. The next thing I wish you to notice is, that every line of verse always begins with a capital letter.
10. And thirdly you will notice, that the lines of verse are more regular in their sound than lines of prose. They have a kind of musical sound about them, which you very rarely hear, except in verse.
11. And fourthly you will notice, that some of the words are shortened by leaving out a letter, and putting in its place a mark called anapostrophe, which looks just like a comma, only it is placed higher up in the line, as in the following line:
"Thus we're prepared for longer days."
12. In this line, if the words were written out at full length, with all their letters in them, the line would stand as follows:
"Thus we are prepared for longer days."
13. But this would destroy what is called themeasureof the line, by putting too many syllables into it; and therefore the wordswe areare shortened, so as to be read as one syllable, and the line is to be read as follows:
"Thus weer prepared for longer days."
14. The next difference I shall point out to you between prose and verse, is that in verse the words are placed in a different order from what they would be in prose; as you will notice in the following lines:
"When all thy mercies, oh my God!My rising soul surveys,Transported with the view, I'm lostIn wonder, love and praise."
15. Now, if these lines were written in prose, the words would stand in the following order: "O my God! when my rising soul surveys all thy mercies, I'm transported with the view of them, and lost in wonder, love and praise."
16. And now that I have explained to you a few of the points in which verse differs from prose, I will only add, that when you read verse, you must not stop at the end of every line, unless there is a pause or mark there; and that you must avoid reading it as if you were singing it to a tune.
1. Thou, Lord, by strictest search hast knownMy rising up and lying down;My secret thoughts are known to thee,Known long before conceived by me.2. Surrounded by thy power I stand,On every side I find thy hand:O skill for human reach too high!Too dazzling bright for mortal eye!3. From thy all-seeing Spirit, Lord,What hiding-place does earth afford?O where can I thy influence shun,Or whither from thy presence run?4. If up to heaven I take my flight,'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light;If to the world unseen, my God,There also hast thou thine abode.5. If I the morning's wings could gain,And fly beyond the western main;E'en there, in earth's remotest land,I still should find thy guiding hand.6. Or, should I try to shun thy sightBeneath the sable wings of night;One glance from thee, one piercing ray,Would kindle darkness into day.7. The veil of night is no disguise,No screen from thy all-searching eyes;Through midnight shades thou find'st thy way,As in the blazing noon, of day.8. Thou know'st the texture of my heart,My reins, and every vital part:I'll praise thee, from whose hands I cameA work of such a wondrous frame.9. Let me acknowledge too, O God,That since this maze of life I trod,Thy thoughts of love to me surmountThe power of numbers to recount.10. Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart,If mischief lurk in any part;Correct me where I go astray,And guide me in thy perfect way.
1. While thee I seek, protecting Power,Be my vain wishes stilled;And may this consecrated hourWith better hopes be filled.2. Thy love the power of thought stowed,To thee my thoughts would soar:Thy mercy o'er my life has flowed,That mercy I adore.3. In each event of life, how clearThy ruling hand I see!Each blessing to my soul more dear,Because conferred by thee.4. In every joy that crowns my days,In every pain I bear,My heart shall find delight in praise,Or seek relief in prayer.5. When gladness wings my favored hour,Thy love my thoughts shall fill;Resigned, when storms of sorrow lower,My soul shall meet thy will.6. My lifted eye, without a tear,The gathering storm shall see;My steadfast heart shall know no fear—That heart will rest on thee.
1. A gardener, of peculiar taste,On a young hog his favor placed,Who fed not with the common herd,—His tray was to the hall preferred;He wallowed underneath the board,Or in his master's chamber snored,Who fondly stroked him every day,And taught him all the puppy's play.2. Where'er he went, the grunting friendNe'er failed his pleasure to attend.As on a time the loving pairWalked forth to tend the garden's care,The master thus addressed the swine:3. "My house, my garden, all is thine:On turnips feast whene'er you please,And riot in my beans and peas;If the potato's taste delights,Or the red carrot's sweet invites,Indulge thy morn and evening hours,But let due care regard my flowers;My tulips are my garden's pride—What vast expense these beds supplied!"4. The hog, by chance, one morning roamedWhere with new ale the vessels foamed;He munches now the steaming grains,Now with full swill the liquor drains;Intoxicating fumes arise,He reels, he rolls his winking eyes;Then, staggering, through the garden scours,And treads down painted ranks of flowers;With delving snout he turns the soil,And cools his palate with the spoil.5. The master came,—the ruin spied."Villain, suspend thy rage!" he cried:"Hast then, thou most ungrateful sot,My charge, my only charge, forgot?What, all my flowers?" No more he said;But gazed, and sighed, and hung his head.6. The hog, with stuttering speech, returns:—"Explain, sir, why your anger burns;See there, untouched, your tulips strown,For I devoured the roots alone!"7. At this the gardener's passion grows;From oaths and threats he fell to blows;The stubborn brute the blows sustains,Assaults his leg, and tears the veins.Ah! foolish swain, too late you findThat sties were for such friends designed!8. Homeward he limps with painful pace,Reflecting thus on past disgrace:Who cherishes a brutal mate,Shall mourn the folly soon or late.
1. A hare, who, in a civil way,Complied with everything, like Gay,Was known by all the bestial trainWho haunt the wood, or graze the plain.Her care was never to offend,And every creature was her friend.2. As forth she went, at early dawn,To taste the dew-besprinkled lawn,Behind she hears the hunter's cries,And from the deep-mouthed thunder flies.3. She starts, she stops, she pants for breath;She hears the near advance of death;She doubles to mislead the hound,And measures back her mazy round;Till, fainting in the public way,Half dead with fear, she gasping lay.4. What transport in her bosom grew,When first the horse appeared in view!"Let me," says she, "your back ascend,And owe my safety to a friend.You know my feet betray my flight,—To friendship every burden's light."5. The horse replied:—"Poor honest puss,It grieves my heart to see thee thus.Be comforted,—relief is near;For all your friends are in the rear."6. She next the stately bull implored;And thus replied the mighty lord:—"Since every beast alive can tellThat I sincerely wish you well,I may, without offense, pretendTo take the freedom of a friend.Love calls me hence; a favorite cowExpects me near yon barley-mow;And when a lady's in the case,You know all other things give place.To leave you thus might seem unkind;But see,—the goat is just behind."7. The goat remarked her pulse was high,Her languid head, her heavy eye,—"My back," says he, "may do you harm;The sheep's at hand, and wool is warm."8. The sheep was feeble, and complainedHis sides a load of wool sustained:Said he was slow, confessed his fears;For hounds eat sheep, as well as hares.9. She now the trotting calf addressed,To save from death a friend distressed."Shall I," says he, "of tender age,In this important care engage?Older and abler passed you by;How strong are those! how weak am I!10. "Should I presume to bear you hence,Those friends of mine may take offense.Excuse me, then,—you know my heart;But dearest friends, alas! must part.How shall we all lament! Adieu!For see,—the hounds are just in view."11. 'Tis thus in friendships; who dependOn many, rarely find a friend.