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146

THE RAMBLER.

N° 130.

Numb. 130. Saturday, June 15, 1751.

 Non sic prata novo vere decentia
Æstatis calidæ dispoliat vapor,
Sævit solstitio cum medius dies;——
Ut fulgor teneris qui radiat genis
Momento rapitur, nullaque non dies
Formosi spolium corporis abstulit.
Res est forma fugax. Quis sapiens bono
Confidat fragili?

⁠Seneca.


  Not faster in the summer's ray
  The spring's frail beauty fades away,
  Than anguish and decay consume
  The smiling virgin's rosy bloom.
  Some beauty's snatch'd each day, each hour;
  For beauty is a fleeting flow'r:
  Then how can wisdom e'er confide
  In beauty's momentary pride?

⁠Elphinston.

⁠To⁠the⁠RAMBLER

⁠SIR,

YOU have very lately observed that in the numerous subdivisions of the world, every class and order of mankind have joys and sorrows of their own; we all feel hourly pain and pleasure from events which pass unheeded before other eyes, but can scarcely communicate our perceptions to minds pre-occupied by different objects, any more than the delight of well-disposed colours or harmonious sounds can be imparted to such as want the senses of hearing or of sight.

I am so strongly convinced of the justness of this remark, and have on so many occasions discovered with how little attention pride looks upon calamity of which she thinks herself not in danger, and indolence listens to complaint when it is not echoed by her own remembrance, that though I

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