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132 inidious attempt to haten her fall by apparent repect. Virtue and pleaure are not, in fact, o nearly allied in this life as ome eloquent writers have laboured to prove. Pleaure prepares the fading wreath, and mixes the intoxicating cup; but the fruit which virtue gives, is the recompencerecompense [sic] of toil: and, gradually een as it ripens, only affords calm atisfaction; nay, appearing to be the reult of the natural tendency of things, it is carcely oberved. Bread, the common food of life, eldom thought of as a bleing, upports the contitution and preerves health; till feats delight the heart of man, though dieae and even death lurk in the cup or dainty that elevates the pirits or tickles the palate. The lively heated imagination, in the ame tyle, draws the picture of love, as it draws every other picture, with thoe glowing colours, which the daring hand will teal from the rainbow that is directed by a mind, condemned in a world like this, to prove its noble origin by panting after unattainable perfection; ever puruing what it acknowledges to be a fleeting dream. An imagination of this vigorous cat can give exitence to inubtantial forms, and tability to the hadowy reveries which the mind naturally falls into when realities are found vapid. It can then depict love with celetial charms, and dote on the grand ideal object—it can imagine a degree of mutual affection that hall refine the oul, and not expire when it has erved as a 'cale to heavenly;' and, like devotion, make it aborb every meaner affection and deire. In each others arms, as in a temple, with its ummit lot in the clouds, the world is to be hut out, and every thought&ensp;