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(§xat Crates 
 
 BY 
 
 <$reat ^tttjjon. 
 
 DICTIONARY 
 
 OF 
 
 %x)t% to Reflection, 
 
 QUOTATIONS OF MAXIMS, METAPHORS, COUNSELS, CAUTIONS, 
 APHORISMS, PROVERBS, &c. &c. 
 
 Sinters 0f all $g*s anfc Mjj f emblem, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO, 
 
 I8f9. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
 
 LTPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO. 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District oi 
 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 8TERE0TYPED BY L. JOHNSON & CO. 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 

 \xthtt to i\t %mxum dbitioit. 
 
 (rreflf^ truths bear to great men the relation at once of 
 cause and effect. A sublime truth, once uttered and made 
 a part of standard literature, becomes thereafter a per- 
 petual spur to noble deeds. The maxims of the wise form 
 part of a nation s intellectual coin, and, like other coin, 
 serve both as the measure and the prolific source of intel- 
 lectual wealth. Alexander the Great, it is said, con- 
 stantly slept with Homer under his pillow. The ideal 
 hero of the Iliad helped to make the real heroes of later 
 G-reece. Great ideas, in fact, usually precede and cause 
 illustrious achievements. Hence it is that the literature 
 of a people invariably contains within it that which has 
 made the people what it is. 
 
 The object of the compiler of the present work was to 
 collect into a narrow compass, and to arrange in a form 
 convenient for reference and consultation, a choice collec- 
 tion of the remarkable utterances of the great among all 
 nations, but chiefly of the great men among the Anglo- 
 Saxon race. The American Edition has been enlarged 
 and enriched by numerous extracts from the writings of 
 
 vii 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 our own distinguished men. Among those eminent Ame- 
 ricans whose choicest sayings have here been garnered, 
 may be mentioned the names of Washington, Adams, 
 Jefferson, Franklin, Hamilton, Ames, Wirt, Clay, 
 Calhoun, Webster, Story, Jonathan Edwards, Archi- 
 bald Alexander, Wayland, Channing, Irving, Cooper, 
 Bryant, Longfellow, Everett, Prescott, Bancroft, Emer- 
 son, and many others. 
 
 The work, as thus enlarged and enriched, forms a 
 mine of thought of inestimable value to every one. To 
 the young, particularly, it is of special value-, as fur- 
 nishing the means of storing the youthful mind with a 
 fund of high and ennobling thoughts, such as have 
 shaped the destinies of the great and good who have 
 preceded them. 
 
4 t£o imi&o s-vs&'ir/ a^E^rTf 8«63 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 atJUSe Of Softer. — Shakspeare. 
 THAT Man, that sits within a Monarch's heart, 
 
 And ripens in the sunshine of his favour, 
 Would he abuse the countenance of the King, 
 Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach, 
 In shadow of such Greatness ! 
 
 ^CCUSattOn. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I would, I could 
 Quit all offences with as clear excuse, 
 As well as, I am doubtless, I can pur£e 
 Myself of many I am charged withal : 
 Yet such extenuation let me beg, 
 As, in reproof of many tales devised, 
 By smiling Pick-thanks and base Newsmongers, 
 I may, for some things true, wherein my youth 
 Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, 
 Find pardon on my true submission. 
 
 Acquaintance. — Seneca. 
 
 TT is safer to affront some People than to oblige them ; for the 
 better a Man deserves, the worse they will speak of him. 
 
 acquaintance. —Cowley. 
 
 TF we engage into a large Acquaintance and various familiarities, 
 we set open our gates to the Invaders of most of our time : we 
 expose our Life to a quotidian Ague of frigid Impertinences, which 
 would make a wise Man tremble to think of. Now, as for being 
 known much by sight, and pointed at, I cannot comprehend the 
 Honour that lies in that : whatsoever it be, every Mountebank has 
 it more than the best Doctor. 
 
 l l 
 
2 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Acquaintance. — Lord Bacon. 
 "IT is good discretion not to make too much of any man at the 
 first; because one cannot hold out that proportion. 
 
 acquaintance, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T^THAT makes us like new Acquaintances is not so much any 
 weariness of our old ones, or the pleasure of change, as 
 disgust at not being sufficiently admired by those who know us 
 too well, and the hope of being more so by those who do not know 
 so much of us. 
 
 Acquirement. — Coiton. 
 
 'THAT which we acquire with the most difficulty we retain the 
 longest ; as those who have earned a fortune are usually more 
 careful than those who have inherited one. 
 
 Acting. — From the French. 
 THERE is no secret in the heart which our Actions do not 
 disclose. The most consummate hypocrite cannot at all times 
 conceal the workings of the Mind. 
 
 Acting. — Tillotson. 
 TT is hard to personate and act a part along ; for where Truth is 
 not at the bottom, Nature will always be endeavouring to return, 
 and will' peep out and betray herself one time or other. 
 
 Action. — Colton. 
 p)ELIBERATE jjith Caution, but act with Decision ; and yield 
 with Graciousness, or oppose with Firmness. 
 
 Actibitg. — Longfellow. 
 T IVES of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 
 Footprints on the sands of Time. 
 Let us then be up and doing; 
 
 With a heart for any fate, 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 Learn to labour and to wait. 
 
 Adaptation. — Lord Greville. 
 AS we should adapt the style of our writing to the Capacity of 
 the Person it is addressed to, so should we our manner of 
 acting ; for as Persons of inferior Understandings will misconceive, 
 and perhaps suspect some sophistry from an Elegance of Expres- 
 sion which they cannot comjrrehend, so Persons of inferior Sentiment 
 will probably mistake the intention, or even suspect a fraud from 
 a delicacy of acting which they want capacity to feel. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3 
 
 adaptation. — From the Latin. 
 TJE alone is wise who can accommodate himself to all the contin- 
 gencies of Life ; but the fool contends, and is struggling, like 
 a swimmer against the stream. 
 
 adaptation. — Shakspeare. 
 To the latter end of a Fray, and the beginning of a Feast, 
 Fits a dull Fighter, and a keen Guest. 
 
 &*aptattOn. — £*. Eoremond. 
 
 AS long as you are engaged in the World, you must comply with 
 
 its maxims; because nothing is more unprofitable, than the 
 
 Wisdom of those persons who set up for Reformers of the Age. 
 
 'Tis a part a man cannot act long, without offending his friends 
 
 and rendering himself ridiculous. 
 
 adaptation Gresset. 
 
 The Eagle of one House is the Fool in another. 
 
 atftreSS. — Colton. 
 
 A MAN who knows the World, will not only make the most of 
 
 every thing he does know, but of many things he does not 
 
 know, and will gain more credit by his adroit mode of hiding his 
 
 Ignorance, than the Pedant by his awkward attempt to exhibit his 
 
 Erudition. 
 
 atJOration Shakspeare. 
 
 Religious in mine error, I adore 
 
 The Sun, that looks upon his worshipper, 
 
 But knows of him no more. 
 
 atjbersfitg.— Horace. 
 A DVERSITY has the effect of eliciting Talents, which, in pros- 
 perous Circumstances, would have lain dormant. 
 
 atlbetSitp. — Shakspeare. 
 You were used 
 To say, Extremity was the trier of Spirits ; 
 That common chances common men could bear; 
 That, when the Sea was calm, all boats alike 
 Show'd mastership in floating : Fortune's blows, 
 When most struck home, being gentle wounded, crave 
 A noble cunning. 
 
 atlberSitj).— Byron. 
 
 Some, bow'd and bent, 
 Wax gray and ghastly, withering ere their time, 
 And perish with the reed on which they leant ; 
 Some seek Devotion, Toil, War, Good or Crime, 
 According as their Souls were form'd to sink or climb. 
 
4 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 atlberSttg — Ordbhe. 
 
 In this wild world the fondest and the best 
 
 Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress'd. 
 
 gtttoWJSttg, — Thomson. 
 
 Ye good distress'd ! 
 Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand 
 Beneath Life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, 
 And what your bounded view, which only saw 
 A little part, deem'd evil, is no more ; 
 The storms of wintry Time will quickly pass, 
 And one unbounded Spring encircle all. 
 
 atlbeCSttg. — Rogers. 
 The good are better made by ill : — 
 As odours crush' d are sweeter still ! 
 
 gUtoermtg. — Byron. 
 
 A THOUSAND years scarce serve to form a State ; 
 
 An hour may lay it in the dust; and when 
 Can Man its shatter'd splendour renovate, 
 Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate ? 
 
 EtluCCSttg. — Lord Grevilk. 
 
 A SK the Man of Adversity, how other men act towards him : 
 
 ask those others, how he acts towards them. Adversity is the 
 
 true touchstone of Merit in both; happy if it does not produce 
 
 the dishonesty of Meanness in one, and that of Insolence and Pride 
 
 in the other. 
 
 EtlbeCSttg. — Shakspeare. 
 Sweet are the uses of Adversity ; 
 Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 
 Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. 
 
 EtlbetS \X^ — Addison. 
 'THE Gods in bounty work up Storms about us, 
 
 That give Mankind occasion to exert 
 Their hidden Strength, and throw out into practice 
 Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal' d 
 In the smooth seasons and the calms of Life. 
 
 atjbctSttg. — Young. 
 
 Affliction is the good Man's shining scene : 
 
 Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; 
 
 As Night to Stars, Woe lustre gives to Man. 
 
 ^^itt.—Von Knebel. 
 TTE who can take Advice, is sometimes superior to him who can 
 
 give it. 
 
OR, THINGS NHW AND OLD. 
 
 w 
 
 Affafiilitg. — From the French. 
 Affability in a Prince is the magnet of Truth. 
 
 Affectation* — Cowper. 
 
 TN Man or Woman, but far most in Man, 
 And most of all in Man that ministers 
 And serves the Altar, in my Soul I loathe 
 All Affectation. 'Tis my perfect Scorn; 
 Object of my implacable disgust. 
 
 Affectation. — From the French. 
 "E are never rendered so ridiculous by Qualities which we pos- 
 sess, as by those which we aim at, or affect to have. 
 
 Affectation.— Savaie. 
 
 T WILL not call Vanity and Affectation twins, because, more 
 properly, Vanity is the Mother, and Affectation is the darling 
 Daughter; Vanity is the Sin, and Affectation is the Punishment; 
 the first may be called the Root of Self-love, the other the Fruit. 
 Vanity is never at its full growth, till it spreadeth into Affecta- 
 tion ; and then it is complete. 
 
 affeCtatlOtl.— St. Evremond. 
 AFFECTATION is a greater enemy to the Face than the small- 
 pox. 
 
 Affectation. — Goldsmith. 
 'THE unaffected of every Country nearly resemble each other, 
 and a page of our Confucius and your Tillotson have scarce any 
 material difference. Paltry Affectation, strained Allusions, and dis- 
 gusting Finery, are easily attained by those who choose to wear 
 them ; they are but too frequently the badges of Ignorance, or of 
 Stupidity, whenever it would endeavour to please. 
 
 affWttOn.— SJiakspeare. 
 UNREASONABLE Creatures feed their young: 
 
 And though Man's face be fearful to their eyes, 
 Yet, in Protection of their tender ones, 
 Who hath not seen them (even with those wings 
 Which sometimes they have used with fearful flight) 
 Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, 
 Offering their own lives in their young's defence? 
 
 affection.— Rogers. 
 
 Gknerous as brave, 
 Affection, Kindness, the sweet offices 
 Of Love and Duty, were to him as needful 
 As his daily bread. 
 
6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 flLftUtiOn.— Shakspeare. 
 
 I have given suck : and know 
 How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me. 
 
 Affection,— Anon. 
 TN the Intercourse of social Life, it is by little acts of watchful 
 Kindness, recurring daily and hourly, — and opportunities of 
 doing Kindnesses, if sought for, are for ever starting up, — it is by 
 Words, by Tones, by Gestures, by Looks, that Affection is won and 
 preserved. He who neglects these trifles, yet boasts that, when- 
 ever a great sacrifice is called for, he shall be ready to make it, 
 will rarely be loved. The likelihood is, he will not make it : and 
 if he does, it will be much rather for his own sake, than for his 
 Neighbour's. 
 
 &ff eCttOtt, — Shakspeare. 
 
 The poor Wren, 
 The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 
 Her young ones in her nest, against the Owl. 
 
 EffeCttOn. —Shakspeare. 
 
 A Grandam's name is little less in Love 
 Than is the doting title of a Mother. 
 They are as Children, but one step below. 
 
 £l00» — Shakspeare. 
 0, Sir, you are old ; 
 Nature in you stands on the very verge 
 Of her confine ; you should be ruled and led 
 By some discretion, that discerns your state 
 Better than you yourself. 
 
 £lQ£, — Shakspeare. 
 T'HE aim of all is but to nurse the Life 
 
 With Honour, Wealth and Ease, in waning Age: 
 And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, 
 That one for all, or all for one we gage : 
 As Life for Honour in fell Battles rage, 
 Honour for Wealth, and oft that Wealth doth cost 
 The death of all, and altogether lost. 
 So that in vent' ring all, we leave to be 
 The things we are for that which we expect : 
 And this ambitious foul Infirmity, 
 In having much, torments us with defect 
 Of that we have : so then we do neglect 
 The thing we have, and all for want of Wit, 
 Make something nothing by augmenting it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 7 
 
 &g** — Steele. 
 A X healthy old Fellow, that is not a Fool, is the happiest creature 
 living. It is at that Time of Life only Men enjoy their facul- 
 ties with pleasure and satisfaction. It is then we have nothing to 
 manage, as the phrase is; we speak the downright Truth, and 
 whether the rest of the World will give us the privilege or not, we 
 have so little to ask of them, that we can take it. 
 
 **8£* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Few People know how to be old. 
 
 a§e.— Byron. 
 
 VET Time, who changes all, had alter'd him 
 In Soul and Aspect as in Age : Years steal 
 Fire from the Mind as vigour from the Limb : 
 And Life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. 
 
 glge. — Sir W. Temple. 
 'THERE cannot live a more unhappy creature than an ill-natured 
 old Man who is neither capable of receiving pleasures nor sen- 
 sible of doing them to others. 
 
 .H(je. — Shakspeare. 
 
 These old Fellows have 
 Their Ingratitude in them hereditary : 
 Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows ; 
 'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind; 
 And Nature, as it grows again toward Earth, 
 Isfashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. 
 
 3tJC — Pope. 
 [" EARN to live well, or fairly make your will ; 
 
 You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your Fill, 
 Walk sober off, before a sprightlier Age 
 Come's titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage : 
 Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease 
 Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please. 
 
 2l(je. — Armstrong. 
 Though old, he still retain'd 
 His manly Sense, and energy of Mind. 
 Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe ; 
 He still remember'd that he once was young : 
 His easy presence check'd no decent joy. 
 Him even the dissolute admir'd ; for he 
 A graceful looseness when he pleas' d put on, 
 And laughing could instruct. 
 B 
 
8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 &ge. — Spenser. 
 '"THE careful cold hath nipt my rugged rind, 
 
 And in my Face deep furrows eld hath plight; 
 My Head besprent with hoary frost I find, 
 And by mine Eye the crow his claw doth wright ; 
 Delight is laid abed, and pleasure, past; 
 No Sun now shines, clouds have all over-cast. 
 
 £lge» — Young. 
 A GE should fly concourse, cover in retreat 
 Defects of Judgment, and the will subdue; 
 Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast Ocean it must sail so soon. 
 
 glge*— Swift. 
 
 YITHEN Men grow virtuous in their old Age, they are merely 
 making a sacrifice to God of the Devil's leavings. 
 
 /3.QP. — Madame de Stael. 
 It is difficult to grow old gracefully. 
 
 EgmafclnUSS. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Y\TE may say of Agreeableness, as distinct from Beauty, that it 
 consists in a Symmetry of which we know not the rules, and 
 a secret Conformity of the Features to each other, and to the air 
 and complexion of the Person. 
 
 &tmS* —Kant. 
 TITHAT are the Aims, which are at the same time Duties ? 
 They are, the perfecting of ourselves, the happiness of 
 others. 
 
 13dng alone. — Cowley. 
 
 r FHE first Minister of State has not so much business in public, 
 as a wise Man has in private : if the one have little leisure to 
 be alone, the other has less leisure to be in Company; the one 
 has but part of the affairs of one nation, the other all the works 
 of God and Nature under his consideration. 
 
 EminttOtt, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 IV/rODERATTON cannot have the credit of combating and sub- 
 duing Ambition — they are never found together. Moderation 
 is the Languor and Indolence of the Soul, as Ambition is its Ac- 
 tivity and Ardour. 
 
 EmfotttOtt. — Byron. 
 TTE who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find 
 
 The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; 
 He who surpasses or subdues Mankind, 
 Must look down on the hate of those below. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 
 
 .HmbtttOlt. — Shalcspeare. 
 
 I have ventur'd, 
 Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 
 This many summers in a Sea of Glory : 
 But far beyond my depth : my high-blown Pride 
 At length broke under me ; and now has left me, 
 "Weary, and old with service, to the mercy 
 Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
 
 amutttOn. — Byron. 
 T>UT quiet to quick bosoms is a Hell, 
 
 And there hath been thy bane ; there is a Fire 
 And motion of the Soul which will not dwell 
 In its own narrow Being, but aspire 
 Beyond the fitting medium of Desire; 
 And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore, 
 Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire 
 Of aught but rest ; a Fever at the core, 
 Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore. 
 This makes the Madmen who have made men mad 
 By their contagion; Conquerors and Kings, 
 Founders of Sects and Systems, to whom add 
 Sophists, Buds, Statesmen, all unquiet Things 
 Which stir too strongly the Soul's secret Springs, 
 And are themselves the Fools to those they fool ; 
 Envied, yet how uuenviable ! what stings 
 Are theirs ! One breast laid open were a School 
 Which would unteach Mankind the Lust to shine or rule. 
 
 HmttttOn. — Shakspeare. 
 T)REAMS, indeed, are Ambition; for the very substance of the 
 ambitious is merely the shadow of a Dream. And I hold 
 Ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's 
 shadow. 
 
 3 m u tt 1 : It . — La Bnu/ere. 
 A SLAVE has but one Master, the ambitious Man has as many 
 Masters as there are persons whose aid may contribute to the 
 advancement of his Fortune. 
 
 Slmugf mcnt0. — Burton. 
 I" ET the World have their May-games, Wakes, Whitsunales ; 
 their Dancings and Concerts ; their Puppet-shows, Hobby- 
 horses, Tabors, Bagpipes, Balls, Barley-breaks, and whatever 
 Bporta and recreations please them best, provided they be fol- 
 lowed with discretion. 
 
10 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Enatfjema. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 If she must teem, 
 Create her child of Spleen, that it may live, 
 And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her ! 
 Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of Youth ; 
 With cadent tears fret channels in her Cheeks ; 
 Turn all her Mother's pains, and benefits, 
 To laughter and contempt; that she may feel, 
 How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, 
 To have a thankless child ! 
 
 &rtati)ema. — ShaJcspeare. 
 r\ VILLAINS, Vipers, damn'd without redemption; 
 
 Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man ; 
 Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart; 
 Three Judasses, each one thrice worse than Judas I 
 
 glnatCimg. — Melandhon. 
 TT is shameful for Man to rest in ignorance of the structure of 
 his own Body, especially when the knowledge of it mainly con- 
 duces to his welfare, and directs his application of his own 
 Powers. 
 
 ancestry — Coiton. 
 
 TT is with Antiquity as with Ancestry, Nations are proud of the 
 one, and Individuals of the other ; but if they are nothing in 
 themselves, that which is their pride ought to be their humilia- 
 tion. 
 
 %Lmt8tt$. — Percival. 
 
 I am one, 
 Who finds within me a nobility, 
 That spurns the idle pratings of the great, 
 And their mean boast of what their fathers were, 
 While they themselves are fools effeminate, 
 The scorn of all who know the worth of mind 
 And virtue. 
 
 giltfCStq). — Dankl Webster. 
 'THERE may be, and there often is, indeed a regard for an- 
 cestry, which nourishes only a weak pride ; as there is also a 
 care for posterity, which only disguises an habitual avarice, or 
 hides the workings of a low and grovelling vanity. But there is 
 also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, which ele- 
 vates the character and improves the heart. 
 
 £ttt0Cr. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Must I give way and room to your rash Choler ? 
 Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares ? 
 
gLnQtt. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Fret, till your proud heart break ; 
 Go, show your Slaves how choleric you are, 
 And make your Bondsmen tremble. Must I budge? 
 Must I observe you ? Must I stand and crouch 
 Under your testy humour ? By the Gods, 
 You shall digest the venom of your Spleen, 
 Though it do split you : for, from this day forth, 
 I'll use you for my Mirth, yea, for my Laughter, 
 When you are waspish. 
 
 anger.— piutarc%. 
 
 r THE continuance and frequent fits of Anger produce an evil 
 habit in the Soul, called Wrathfulness, or a propensity to be 
 angry ; which ofttimes ends in Choler, Bitterness, and Morosity ; 
 when the Mind becomes ulcerated, peevish, and querulous, and 
 like a thin, weak plate of iron, receives impression, and is wounded 
 by the least occurrence. 
 
 Hnget.— Pope. 
 
 'THEN flash'd the living Lightning from her eyes, 
 And screams of horror rend th' affrighted skies. 
 Not louder shrieks to pitying Heaven are cast, 
 When husbands, or when lap-dogs, breathe their last; 
 Or when rich china vessels, fall'n from high, 
 In glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie ! 
 
 &ltget. — Spenser. 
 A ND him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath 
 
 Upon a Lion loth for to be led ; 
 And iu his hand a burning Brond he hath, 
 The which he brandisheth about his hed ; 
 His eies did hurle forth sparcles fiery red, 
 And stared sterne on all that him beheld ; 
 As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded ; 
 And on his dagger still his hand he held 
 Trembling through hasty Rage when Choler in him sweld. 
 
 ginger. — Savage. 
 When Anger rushes, uurestrain'd to action, 
 Like a hot steed, it stumbles in its way. 
 The Man of Thought strikes deepest, and strikes safely. 
 
 Hngcr.— Coiton. 
 
 r riIE Sun should not set upon our Anger, neither should he rise 
 upon our Confidence. We should forgive freely, but forget 
 rarely. I will not be revenged, and this I owe to my Enemy; 
 but 1 will remember, and this I owe to myself 
 
 b2 
 
12 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 anger, — Clarendon. 
 A NGRY and choleric Men are as ungrateful and unsociable as 
 Thunder and Lightning, being in themselves all Storm and 
 Tempests; but quiet and easy Natures are like fair Weather, 
 welcome to all, and acceptable to all Men; they gather together 
 what the other disperses, and reconcile all whom the other in- 
 censes : as they have the good will and the good wishes of all other 
 Men, so they have the full possession of themselves, have all their 
 own thoughts at peace, and enjoy quiet and ease in their own 
 fortunes, how strait soever it may be. 
 
 Unger. — Shakspeare. 
 T ET your Reason with your Choler question 
 
 What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills 
 Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like 
 A full hot horse ; who being allow'd his way, 
 Self-mettle tires him. 
 
 &Ttgcr<— Plutarch. 
 T AMENTATION is the only musician that always, like a screech- 
 owl, alights and sits on the roof of an angry Man. 
 
 &ttgtf* : -— Plutarch. 
 
 "TAD I a careful and pleasant companion, that should show me 
 my angry face in a glass, I should not at all take it ill; to 
 behold a Man's self so unnaturally disguised and disordered, will 
 conduce not a little to the Impeachment of Anger. 
 
 &ntagOnt!Sm. — Lord Greville. 
 COME Characters are like some bodies in Chemistry; very good 
 perhaps in themselves, yet fly off and refuse the least conjunc- 
 tion with each other. 
 
 Cj)e antt^Uarg. — Peter Pindar. 
 "DARE are the Buttons of a Roman's breeches, 
 
 In Antiquarian eyes surpassing riches : 
 Rare is each crack'd, black, rotten, earthen dish, 
 That held of ancient Rome the flesh and fish. 
 
 Entt^ttttg.— Chesterfield. 
 
 J DO by no means advise you to throw away your Time, in ran- 
 sacking, like a dull Antiquarian, the minute and unimportant 
 parts of remote and fabulous times. Let blockheads read, what 
 blockheads wrote. 
 
 EttttqjUttg. — Tacitus. 
 
 A LL those things which are now held to be of the greatest An- 
 tiquity, were, at one time, new; and what we to-day hold up 
 by Example, will rank hereafter as a Precedent. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 13 
 
 &ttttquttg* — Colton. 
 TT has been observed, that a Dwarf standing on the shoulders 
 of a Giant, will see farther than the Giant himself; and the 
 Moderns, standing as they do on the vantage-ground of former dis- 
 coveries, and uniting all the fruits of the experience of their fore- 
 fathers, with their own actual observation, may be admitted to 
 enjoy a more enlarged and comprehensive view of things than the 
 Ancients themselves; for that alone is true Antiquity, which em- 
 braces the Antiquity of the World, and not that which would refer 
 us back to a period when the World was young. But by whom is 
 this true Antiquity enjoyed? Not ty the Ancients who did live 
 in the infancy, but by the Moderns who do live in the maturity of 
 things. 
 
 ErtttqUttg.— Burke. 
 "lYTHEN ancient Opinions and Rules of Life are taken away, the 
 loss cannot possibly be estimated. From that moment we 
 have no compass to govern us; nor can we know distinctly to 
 what nort to steer. 
 
 EppcatanreS. — Shakspeare. 
 'THE World is still deceived with Ornament. 
 In Law, what Plea so tainted and corrupt, 
 But, being season'd with a gracious Voice, 
 Obscures the Show of Evil ? In Religion, 
 What damned Error, but some sober Brow 
 Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
 Hiding the grossness with fair Ornament? 
 There is no Vice so simple, but assumes 
 Some mark of Virtue on its outward parts. 
 How many Cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
 As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
 The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars; 
 Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk ? 
 And these assume but Valour's excrement, 
 To render them redoubted. Look on Beauty, 
 And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight; 
 Which therein works a miracle in Nature, 
 Making them lightest that wear most of it : 
 So are those crisped snaky golden locks, 
 Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 
 Upon supposed Fairness, often known 
 To be the dowry of a second head, 
 The skull that bred them, in the sepulchre. 
 Thus Ornament is but the guiled shore 
 To the most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf 
 
14 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Vailing an Indian beauty ; in a word, 
 
 The seeming Truth which cunning Times put on 
 
 To entrap the wisest. 
 
 Appearances, —ia Rochefoucauld. 
 TN all the professions every one affects a particular look and ex- 
 terior, in order to appear what he wishes to be thought ; so that 
 it may be said the World is made up of Appearances. 
 
 Appearances. — Churchill. 
 
 Appearances to save his only care ; 
 
 So things seem right, no matter what they are. 
 
 Appearances. — s/mkspeare. 
 
 'THERE is a fair Behaviour in thee, Captain ; 
 
 And though that Nature with a beauteous wall 
 Doth often close in pollution, yet of thee 
 I will believe, thou hast a Mind that suits 
 With this thy fair and outward Character. 
 
 SlppceCtattOn. — Lord GrevilU. 
 VOU may fail to shine, in the opinion of others, both in your 
 Conversation and Actions, from being superior, as well as in- 
 ferior, to them. 
 
 appccfteiston. — Burke. 
 "DETTER to be despistd for too anxious apprehensions, than 
 ruined by too confident a security. 
 
 argument.— Butler. 
 It is vain 
 ^1 see) to argue 'gainst the grain, 
 >r like the stars, incline men to 
 What they're averse themselves to do; 
 For when disputes are wearied out, 
 ; Tis inter'st still resolves the doubt. 
 
 artStOCraCg. —Eward Everett. 
 \\THAT subsists to-day by violence, continues to-morrow by 
 acquiescence, and is perpetuated by tradition ; till at last the 
 hoary abuse shakes the gray hairs of antiquity at us, and gives 
 itself out as the wisdom of ages. Thus the clearest dictates of 
 reason are made to yield to a long succession of follies. 
 
 And this is the foundation of the aristocratic system at the 
 present day. Its stronghold, with all those not immediately inte- 
 rested in it, is the reverence of antiquity. 
 
 art. — From the Latin. 
 It is the Height of Art to conceal Art. 
 
 s 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 15 
 
 <H.tt. — -Lavater. 
 HTHE enemy of Art is the enemy of Nature ; Art is nothing but 
 the highest sagacity and exertions of Human Nature ; and what 
 Nature will he honour who honours not the Human ? 
 
 Artifice. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THE ordinary employment of Artifice is the mark of a petty 
 Mind ; and it almost always happens that he who uses it to 
 cover himself in one place, uncovers himself in another. 
 
 ,R CntlCe. — Washington Irving. 
 'THERE is a certain artificial polish — a common-place vivacity 
 acquired by perpetually mingling in the beau Monde, which, in 
 the commerce of the World, supplies the place of natural suavity 
 and good humour, but is purchased at the expense of all original 
 and sterling traits of Character : by a kind of fashionable discipline, 
 the Eye is taught to brighten, the Lip to smile, and the whole 
 Countenance to emanate with the semblance of friendly Welcome, 
 while the Bosom is unwarmed by a single Spark of genuine 
 Kindness and good-will. 
 
 &8CCn'iiCnC)).—Lord Greville. 
 WHATEVER natural Right Men may have to Freedom and 
 Independency, it is mauifest that some Men have a natural 
 Ascendency over others. 
 
 .Asking. — Fuller. 
 TF thou canst not obtain a Kindness which thou desirest, put a 
 good face on it, show no Discontent nor Surliness : an hour 
 may come, when thy request may be granted. 
 
 .HSSOCtatCS. — From the Latin. 
 TF you always live with those who are lame, you will yourself 
 learn to limp. 
 
 .HSSOCt'atCS. — La Bnujere. 
 TF Men wish to be held in Esteem, they must associate with those 
 only who are estimable. 
 
 Associates. — Lavater. 
 TE who comes from the Kitchen smells of its smoke ; he who 
 adheres to a Sect has something of its Cant; the College-Air 
 pursues the Student, and dry Inhumanity him who herds with 
 literary Pedants. 
 
 aSSOCiateS. — Lord Chesterfield. 
 ("MIOOSE the company of your superiors, whenever you can 
 have it; that is the right and true Pride. 
 
 assuming. — jhMoy. 
 
 A SSUMED Qualities may catch the Affections of some, but one 
 must possess Qualities really good, to fix the heart. 
 
16 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 &8J50riate8. — Fuller. 
 ASSOCIATE with Men of good Judgment: for Judgment is 
 found in Conversation. And we make another Man's Judg- 
 ment ours, by frequenting his Company. 
 
 &00OCtate!3. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Thou art noble ; yet, I see, 
 Thy honourable Metal may be wrought 
 From that it is disposed. Therefore 'tis meet 
 That noble Minds keep ever with their Likes : 
 For who so firm, that cannot be seduced ? 
 
 ESttuttOmp. — Cicero. 
 THE contemplation of Celestial Things will make a Man both 
 speak and think more sublimely and magnificently when he 
 descends to human affairs. 
 
 attjetSttt. — Hare. 
 THERE is no being eloquent for Atheism. In that exhausted 
 receiver the Mind cannot use its wings, — the clearest proof 
 that it is out of its element. 
 
 &tf) etStm —Lord Herbert of Cherbury. 
 V/ITHOEVER considers the Study of Anatomy, I believe, will 
 never be an Atheist; the frame of Man's Body, and Cohe- 
 rence of his Parts, being so strange and paradoxical, that I hold 
 it to be the greatest Miracle of Nature. 
 
 gUjjetgm* — Washington Allston. 
 THE atheist may speculate, and go on speculating till he is 
 brought up by annihilation; he may then return to life, and 
 reason away the difference between good and evil ; he may even go 
 further, and imagine to himself the perpetration of the most atro- 
 cious acts ; and still he may eat his bread with relish, and sleep 
 soundly in his bed; for his sins, wanting as it were substance, 
 having no actual solidity to leave their traces in his memory, all 
 future retribution may seem to him a thing with which, in any event, 
 he can have no concern ; but let him once turn his theory to practice — 
 let him make crime palpable — in an instant he feels its hot impress 
 on his soul. 
 
 &Utf)0tttg- — Shakspeare. 
 ^HOUG-H Authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by 
 the nose with gold. 
 
 &Utf)0tttg- — Shakspeare. 
 Authority, though it err like others, 
 Hath yet a kind of Med'cine in itself, 
 That skins the vice o' the top. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 17 
 
 .HlitfjOrttg. — Shdkspeare. 
 
 Place ! Form ! 
 How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
 Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls 
 To thy false seeming ? 
 
 HlltfjOntg. — Shdkspeare. 
 Authority bears a credent bulk, 
 That no particular scandal one can touch, 
 But it confounds the breather. 
 
 HutfjOCS.— Johnson. 
 T>EOPLE may be taken in once, who imagine that an Author is 
 greater in private life than other Men. 
 
 EutljOTS. _ Longfellow. 
 T'HE motives and purposes of authors are not always so pure and 
 high, as, in the enthusiasm of youth, we sometimes imagine. 
 To many the trumpet of fame is nothing but a tin horn to call them 
 home, like laborers from the field, at dinner-time, and they think 
 themselves lucky to get the dinner. 
 
 authors. — Colton. 
 TT is a doubt whether Mankind are most indebted to those who, 
 like Bacon and Butler, dig the gold from the mine of Literature, 
 or to those who, like Paley, purify it, stamp it, fix its real value, 
 and give it currency and utility. For all the practical purposes 
 of Life, Truth might as well be in a prison as in the folio of a 
 Schoolman, and those who release her from her cobwebbed shelf, 
 and teach her to live with Men, have the merit of liberating, if not 
 of discovering her. 
 
 EuttjOUS. — Sir Egerton Brydges. 
 A UTHORS have not always the power or habit of throwing 
 their talents into conversation. There are some very just 
 and well-expressed observations on this point in Johnson's Life 
 of Dryden, who was said not at all to answer in this respect the 
 Character of his Genius. I have observed that vulgar readers 
 almost always lose their veneration for the writings of the Genius 
 with whom they have had personal intercourse. 
 
 &Utf)Ot0. — Colton. 
 'pHE Society of dead Authors has this advantage over that of the 
 living ) they never flatter us to our faces, nor slander us be- 
 hind our backs, nor intrude upon our privacy, nor quit their 
 shelves until we take them down. Besides, it is always easy to 
 shut a Book, but not quite so easy to get rid of a lettered Cox- 
 comb. 
 
18 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 &Utf)0t!5. — Byron. 
 "DUT every Fool describes in these bright days 
 
 His wondrous Journey to some foreign Court", 
 And spawns his Quarto, and demands your praise. 
 
 &UtijOrS. — Young. 
 COME write, confined by Physic; some, by Debt; 
 
 Some, for 'tis Sunday; some, because 'tis wet; 
 Another writes because his Father writ, 
 And proves himself a Bastard by his Wit. 
 
 &UtJjum — Byron. 
 TTE had written Praises of a Regicide ; 
 
 He had written Praises of all Kings whatever ; 
 He had written for Republics far and wide, 
 And then against them bitterer than ever. 
 
 EutfjOtS.— Butler. 
 TV/TUCH thou hast said, which I know when 
 And where thou stol'st from other Men ; 
 Whereby 'tis plain thy Light and Gifts 
 Are all but plagiary Shifts. 
 
 &tttjJ0rg. — Gowper. 
 
 And Novels (witness every Month's Review) 
 Belie their Name and offer nothing new. 
 
 %LUt$tlT8.— Johnson. 
 
 CUCCESS and Miscarriage have the same effects in all conditions. 
 The prosperous are feared, hated, and flattered ; and the unfor- 
 tunate avoided, pitied, and despised. No sooner is a Book pub- 
 lished, than the Writer may judge of the opinion of the World. 
 If his Acquaintance press round him in public Places, or salute him 
 from the other side of the Street ; if Invitations to dinner come 
 thick upon him, and those with whom he dines keep him to Supper ; 
 if the Ladies turn to him when his coat is plain, and the Footmen 
 serve him with attention and alacrity; he may be sure that his 
 Work has been praised by some Leader of literary Fashions. 
 
 EutfjOtS.— Byron. 
 /~)NE hates an Author that's all Author, Fellows 
 
 In Foolscap uniforms turn'd up with ink, 
 So very anxious, clever, fine, and jealous, 
 
 One don't know what to say to them, or think, 
 Unless to puff them with a pair of bellows : 
 
 Of Coxcombry's worst Coxcombs, e'en the Pink 
 Are preferable to these shreds of paper, 
 These unquench'd snuffings of the midnight taper. 
 
OR, THING S NEW AND OLD. 19 
 
 SUltfjOtt).— Spenser. 
 TXOW many great Ones may remember'd be, 
 
 Which in their days most famously did flourish, 
 Of whom no word we hear, nor Sign now see, 
 But as things wip'd out with a spur.ge do perish, 
 Because the living cared not to cherish 
 No gentle Wits, through pride or covetize, 
 Which might their Names for ever memorize ! 
 
 &Utf)0rg.— Cowper. 
 
 None but an Author knows an Author's cares, 
 Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears. 
 &Utumtt Spenser. 
 
 HTHEN came the Autumne, all in Yellow clad, 
 As though he joyed in his plenteous store, 
 
 Laden with Fruits that made him laugh, full glad 
 
 That he bad banisht Hunger, which to-fore 
 
 Had by the belly oft him pinched sore ; 
 
 Upon his Head a Wreath, that was enrold 
 
 With ears of Corne of every sort, he bore, 
 
 And in his Hand a Sickle he did holde, 
 
 To reape the ripened Fruit the which the Earth had yold. 
 
 &Uttimn. — Thomson. 
 TTLED is the blasted Verdure of the Fields; 
 
 And shrunk into their Beds, the flowery .Race 
 Their sunny robes resign. Even what remain'd 
 Of stronger Fruits falls from the naked Tree ; 
 And Woods, Fields, Gardens, Orchards, all around 
 The desolated prospect thrills the soul. 
 
 fSfowtitt.— Hughes. 
 
 IT may be remarked for the comfort of honest Poverty, that Ava- 
 rice reigns most in those who have but few good Qualities to 
 recommend them. This is a Weed that will grow in a barren Soil. 
 
 abattce. — Moore. 
 The Love of G-old, that meanest rage, 
 And latest folly of Man's sinking age, 
 Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, 
 While nobler passions wage their heated strife, 
 Comes skulking last, with Selfishness and Fear, 
 And dies, collecting lumber in the rear ! 
 
 Ebartce. — Pope. 
 
 TMCHES, like Insects, when conceal'd they lie, 
 Wait but for wings, and in their season fly. 
 Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, 
 C 
 
20 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Sees but a backward steward for the poor; 
 This year, a reservoir, to keep and spare ; 
 The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir, 
 In lavish Streams to quench a Country's thirst, 
 And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst. 
 
 &bartce, — Pope. 
 
 "\\TEALTH in the gross is death, but Life diffused; 
 
 As Poison heals, in just proportion used : 
 In Heaps, like Ambergris, a Stink it lies, 
 But well dispersed, is Incense to the Skies. 
 
 &uartCe. — Blair. 
 Q CURSED Lust of Gold : when for thy sake 
 
 The Fool throws up his interest in both worlds, 
 First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come. 
 
 &battCe. — Spenser. 
 A ND greedy Avarice by him did ride 
 
 Upon a Camell leaden all with Gold : 
 Two Iron Coffers hong on either side, 
 With precious Metall full as they might hold, 
 And in his Lap an Heap of Coine he told; 
 For of his wicked Pelf his God he made, 
 And unto Hell him selfe for Money sold ; 
 Accursed Usury was all his Trade, 
 
 And Right and Wrong ylike in equall Ballaunce waide. 
 His Life was nigh unto Death's Dore yplaste; 
 And thred-bare Cote and cobled Shoes he ware, 
 Ne scarse good Morsell all his Life did taste, 
 But both from Backe and Belly still did spare, 
 To fill his bags, and Richesse to compare : 
 Yet Childe nor Kinsman living had he none 
 To leave them to; but, thorough daily care 
 To get, and nightly feare to loose his owne, 
 He led a wretched life unto himself unknowne. 
 
 &battCe. — La Rocliefoucaidd. 
 A VARICE often produces opposite effects; there is an infinite 
 number of People who sacrifice all their property to doubtful 
 ind distant Expectations; others despise great future Advantages 
 to obtain present Interests of a trifling nature. 
 
 &battCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T^XTREME Avarice almost always mistakes itself; there is no 
 Passion which more often deprives itself of its Object, nor on 
 which the Present exercises so much Power to the prejudice of the 
 Future. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 21 
 
 Etta nee* — Coiton. 
 
 'THE Avarice of the Miser may be termed the grand Sepulchre 
 of all his other Passions, as they successively decay. But, un- 
 like other Tombs, it is enlarged by Repletion, and strengthened by 
 Age. 
 
 &tofctoartmess. — CkurcMU. 
 
 TATHAT'S a fine Person, or a beauteous Face, 
 
 Unless Deportment gives them decent Grace ? 
 Bless' d with all other requisites to please, 
 Some want the striking Elegance of Ease; 
 The curious e} T e their awkward movement tires; 
 They seem like Puppets led about by wires. 
 
 ^atJtnage. — Zimmerman. 
 TN the sallies of Badinage a polite fool shines; but in Gravity he 
 is as awkwaH ^s an elephant disporting. 
 
 iJilStf UlnrSS. — Fuller. 
 r^ONCEIT not so high a notion of any, as to be bashful and im- 
 potent in their presence. 
 
 i$asif)f UlllCSS. — Plutarch. 
 
 AS those that pull down private houses adjoining to the Temples 
 of the Gods, prop up such parts as are contiguous to them; 
 so, in undermining Bashfulness, due regard is to be had to adjacent 
 Modesty, Good-nature, and Humanity. 
 
 iiaSijfltlttCSS. — Mackenzie. 
 T'HERE are two distinct Sorts of what we call Bashfulness: 
 this, the awkwardness of a Booby, which a few steps into the 
 world will convert into the pertness of a Coxcomb : that a Con- 
 sciousness, which the most delicate Feelings produce, and the most 
 extensive Knowledge cannot always remove. 
 
 iSeaUtj). — Shakspeare. 
 
 For her own Person, 
 It beggar'd all Description; she did lie 
 In her pavilion, 
 
 O'erpicturing that Venus, where we see, 
 The Fancy out-work Nature. 
 
 ISeaUtj}.— Byron. 
 AN Eye's an Eye, and whether black or blue, 
 Is no great matter, so 'tis in request; 
 'Tis Nonsense to dispute about a Hue — 
 
 The kindest may be taken as a Test. 
 The fair Sex should be always fair; and no Man, 
 Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain Woman. 
 
22 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 $3eaUtl>. — Sir A. Hunt. 
 WHAT is Beauty? Not the Show 
 
 Of shapely Limbs and Features. No. 
 These are but flowers 
 That have their dated hours 
 To breathe their momentary Sweets, then go. 
 'Tis the stainless Soul within 
 That outshines the fairest Skin. 
 
 2SeaUtg- — Rogers. 
 
 But then her Face, 
 So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, 
 The overflowings of an innocent Heart. 
 
 Beaittg. — Byron. 
 T\THO bath not proved how feebly Words essay 
 
 To fix one spark of Beauty's heaveu.y ray? 
 Who dotb not feel, until his failing sight 
 Faints into dimness with its own delight, 
 His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess 
 The Might — the Majesty of Loveliness? 
 
 tttaut)). — Spenser. 
 T ONG- while I sought to what I might compare 
 
 Those powerful Eyes, which lighten my dark Spirit; 
 Yet found I nought on Earth, to which I dare 
 Resemble the Image of their goodly light. 
 Not to the Sun, for they do shine by Night; 
 Nor to the Moon, for they are changed never; 
 Nor to the Stars, for they have purer Sight; 
 Nor to the Fire, for they consume not ever; 
 Nor to the Lightning, for they still presever; 
 Nor to the Diamond, for they are more tender; 
 Nor unto Chrystal, for nought may them sever; 
 Nor unto Glass, such Baseness mought offend her; 
 Then to the Maker's Self they likest be; 
 Whose light doth lighten all that here we see 
 
 ISeaittP. — Byron. 
 CHE gazed upon a World she scarcely knew 
 
 As seeking not to know it; silent, lone, 
 As grows a Flower, thus quietly she grew, 
 
 And kept her Heart serene within its Zone. 
 There was Awe in the Homage which she drew; 
 
 Her Spirit seem'd as seated on a throne 
 Apart from the surrounding World, and strong 
 In its own strength — most strange in one so young! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 23 
 
 i3eautg. — Milton. 
 
 Beauty, like the fair Hesperian Tree 
 Laden with blooming Gold, had need the guard 
 Of Dragon- watch with unenchanted eye, 
 To save her Blossoms and defend her Fruit 
 From the rash hand of bold Incontinence. 
 
 13eaUt|). — Spenser. 
 pOR shee was full of amiable Grace, 
 
 And manly Terror mixed therewithal; 
 That as the one stirr'd up Affections base, 
 So th'other did Men's rash Desires apall, 
 And hold them backe, that would in error fall : 
 As he that hath espide a vermeill Rose, 
 To which sharpe Thornes, and Breeres the way forstall, 
 Dare not for Dread his hardy Hand expose, 
 But wishing it farr off his ydle Wish doth lose. 
 
 !3eaittg. — Shakspeare. 
 How like Eve's Apple doth thy Beauty grow, 
 If thy sweet Virtue answer not thy Show ! 
 
 iSeautj). — Shakspeare. 
 Could Beauty have better commerce than with Honesty? 
 
 BeailtS* — Spenser. 
 
 TTER Looks were like beams of the morning Sun, 
 Forth-looking through the window of the East, 
 When first the fleecie Cattle have begun 
 Upon their perled grass to make their feast. 
 
 ISeaUtg. — Rochester. 
 OH ! she is the Pride and Glory of the World : 
 Without her, all the rest is worthless dross : 
 Life, a base slavery; Empire but a mock; 
 And Love, the Soul of all, a bitter curse. 
 
 13eautj). — Byron. 
 TTER glossy Hair was cluster'd o'er a Brow 
 
 Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth; 
 Her Eyebrow's Shape was like the aerial Bows, 
 Her Cheek all purple with the beam of Youth, 
 Mounting at times to a transparent glow, 
 As if her Veins ran lightning. 
 
 beauty. — Lee. 
 
 Is she not brighter than a Summer's Morn, 
 
 When all the Heaven is streak'd with dappled Fires, 
 
 And fleck'd with Blushes like a rifled Maid? 
 
'24 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 33eaUt£. — ShaJcspeare. 
 All Orators are dumb, when Beauty pleadeth. 
 23eaUt£. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 The Roman Dame, 
 Within whose face Beauty and Virtue strived 
 Which of them both should underprop her Fame : 
 When Virtue bragg'd Beauty would blush for Shame; 
 When Beauty boasted Blushes, in despite 
 Virtue would stain that o'er with Silver White. 
 But Beauty, in that White intituled, 
 
 IFrom Venus' Doves doth challenge that fair field; 
 Then Virtue claims from Beauty Beauty's Bed, 
 Which Virtue gave the Golden Age to gild 
 Their Silver Cheeks, and call'd it then their shield; 
 Teaching them thus to use it in the fight, — 
 When Shame assail'd, the Bed should fence the White. 
 
 Ifoatltg, — Milton. 
 TJEAUTY is Nature's Coin, must not be hoarded, 
 
 But must be current, and the Good thereof 
 Consists in mutual and partaken Bliss, 
 ', Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself: 
 
 If you let slip Time, like a neglected rose, 
 It withers on the stalk with languish'd head. 
 
 2BeaUt£ Byron. 
 
 TTER Glance how wildly beautiful! how much 
 
 Hath Phoebus woo'd in vain to spoil her Cheek, 
 Which glows yet smoother from his amorous clutch ! . 
 Who round the North for paler dames would seek ? 
 How poor their forms appear ! how languid, wan, and weak T 
 
 iSeautg. — Spenser. 
 VE tradeful Merchants ! that with weary toil 
 
 Do seek most precious things t-o make your gain ; 
 And both the Indias of their treasure spoil, 
 What needeth you to seek so far in vain ? 
 For lo ! my Love doth in herself contain 
 All this World's Riches that may far be found; 
 If Saphyrs, lo ! her Eyes be Saphyrs plain; 
 If Rubies, lo ! her Lips be Rubies sound ; 
 If Pearls, her Teeth be Pearls, both pure and round , 
 If Ivory, her Forehead Ivory ween ; 
 If Gold, her locks are finest Gold on Ground; 
 If Silver, her fair Hands are Silver Sheen : 
 But that which fairest is, but few behold, 
 Her mind, adorn'd with Vertues manifold. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 25 
 
 33eaut|). _ Spenser. 
 
 'THE Fairness of her Face no tongue can tell, 
 
 For she the Daughters of all Women's Race, 
 And Angels eke, in Beautie doth excell, 
 Sparkled on her from God's owne glorious Face, 
 And more increast by her owne goodly Grace, 
 That it doth farre exceed all human Thought, 
 Ne can on Earth compared be to ought. 
 
 i3eaut£. — Shak'speare. 
 Beauty lives with Kindness. 
 
 IScaUtj). _ Crabbe. 
 T ! when the Buds expand the Leaves are green, 
 
 Then the first opening of the Flower is seen ; 
 Then come the honied breath and rosy smile, 
 That with their sweets the willing sense beguile ; 
 But as we look, and love, and taste, and praise, 
 And the Fruit grows, the charming Flower decays; 
 Till all is gather'd, and the wintry blast 
 Moans o'er the place of love and pleasure past. 
 
 So 'tis with Beauty, — such the opening grace 
 And dawn of glory in the youthful face; 
 Then are the charms unfolded to the sight, 
 Then all is loveliness and all delight; 
 The nuptial tie succeeds, the genial hour, 
 And, lo ! the falling off of Beauty's flower; 
 So through all Nature is the progress made, — 
 The Bud, the Bloom, the Fruit, — and then we fade. 
 
 $3eautt>. — Spenser. 
 "POR Beauty is the bait which with delight 
 Doth Man allure, for to enlarge his kind ; 
 Beauty, the burning lamp of Heaven's light, 
 Darting her beams into each feeble Mind, 
 Against whose power nor God nor Man can find 
 Defence, reward the daunger of the wound ; 
 But being hurt, seek to be medicin'd 
 Of her that first did stir that mortal stownd. 
 
 $3eaUt£.— Byron. 
 Heart on her Lips, and Soul within her Eyes. 
 Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. 
 
 13cautg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 That whiter skin of her'a than snow, 
 And smooth as monumental abibaster. 
 
2« ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 igeatttg. — Spenser. 
 T70R sure of all that in this mortal frame 
 
 Contained is, nought more Divine doth seem, 
 Or that resembleth more th' immortal flame 
 Of heavenly light, than Beauty's glorious beam. 
 What wonder then if with such rage extreme 
 Frail men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to see, 
 At sight thereof so much enravish'd be ? 
 
 ISeautg. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 OH! how refreshing seem'd the breathing wind 
 
 To her faint limbs ! and while her snowy hands 
 From her fair brow her golden hair unbind, 
 And of her zone unloose the silken bands, 
 More passing bright unveil'd her Beauty stands; 
 For faultless was her Form as Beauty's Queen, 
 And every winning grace that Love demands, 
 With wild attemper'd dignity was seen 
 Play o'er each lovely limb, and deck her angel mien. 
 
 2SeaUt£. — Byron. 
 
 QUCH was ! — such around her shone 
 
 The nameless Charms unmark'd by her alone; 
 The Light of Love, the Purity of Grace, 
 The Mind, the Music breathing from her Face, 
 The Heart whose softness harmonized the whole — 
 And, oh ! that Eye was in itself a Soul ! 
 
 ISeaUtg, — Shakspeare. 
 Fair Ladies, mask'd, are Roses in their Bud : 
 Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown, 
 Are Angels vailing Clouds, or Roses blown. 
 
 ^tmty. — Scott. 
 ^HERE was a soft and pensive Grace, 
 
 A cast of thought upon her Face, 
 That suited well the Forehead high, 
 The Eye-lash dark, and downcast Eye : 
 The mild Expression spoke a mind 
 In duty firm, composed, resign'd. 
 
 I&emty. — Spenser. 
 Every Spirit as it is most pure, 
 And hath in it the more of heavenly light, 
 So it the fairer Body doth procure 
 
 To habit in 
 
 For of the Soul the Body form doth take, 
 For Soul is form and doth the Body make- 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 IStdUt)). — Byron. 
 slHE was a Form of Life and Light, 
 That, seen, became a part of sight , 
 And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, 
 The Morning-star of Memory ! 
 
 ISeaUtp. — Shakspeare. 
 My Beauty, though but mean, 
 Needs not the painted nourish of your praise ; 
 Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 
 Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues. 
 
 tStatttg.— Moore. 
 
 T^HILE she, who sang so gently to the lute 
 Her dream of home, steals timidly away, 
 Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray, 
 But takes with her from Aziin's heart that sigh 
 We sometimes give to forms that pass us by 
 In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain, 
 Creatures of light we never see again! 
 
 ISeailtg.— Byron. 
 
 TMJT Virtue's self, with all her tightest laces, 
 Has not the natural stays of strict old age; 
 And Socrates, that model of all duty, 
 
 Own'd to a penchant, though discreet, for Beauty. 
 
 i3eautp. — Shakspeare. 
 CINCE brass nor stone, nor earth nor boundless sea, 
 
 But sad Mortality o'er-sways their power, 
 How with this rage shall Beauty hold a plea, 
 Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? 
 0, how shall Summer's honey breath hold out 
 Against the wreckful siege of battering days, 
 When rocks impregnable are not so stout, 
 Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays ? 
 fearful Meditation ! where, alack, 
 Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid? 
 Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back ? 
 Or who his spoil of Beauty can forbid? 
 
 13caUtj). — Shakspeare. 
 ,r FIS Beauty truly blent, whose red and white 
 
 Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : 
 Lady, you are the cruell'st She alive, 
 If you will lead these graces to the grave, 
 And leave the world no copy. 
 
28 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 13 c autj). — Milton. 
 
 He on his side 
 Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love 
 Hung over her enamour'd, and beheld 
 Beauty, which whether waking or asleep, 
 Shot forth peculiar graces. 
 
 UeaUtg, — Moore. 
 "PV'N then, her Presence had the power 
 
 To soothe, to warm, — nay, ev'n to bless — 
 If ever bliss could graft its flower 
 On stem so full of bitterness — 
 Ev'n then her glorious Smile to me 
 
 Brought warmth and radiance, if not balm, 
 Like Moonlight on a troubled sea, 
 
 Brightening the storm it cannot calm. 
 
 SBeautg-— Pope. 
 
 "VET graceful Ease, and Sweetness void of Pride, 
 
 Might hide her faults, if Belles had faults to hide 
 If to her share some female errors fall, 
 Look on her Face, and you'll forget 'em all. 
 
 SSeailtg. — Shakspeare. 
 I SAW sweet Beauty in her Face, 
 Such as the daughter of Agenor had, 
 That made great Jove to humble him to her hand, 
 When with his knees he kiss'd the Cretan strand. 
 
 . I saw her coral Lips to move, 
 And with her Breath she did perfume the air : 
 Sacred and sweet, was all I saw in her. 
 UeaUtg. — Ben Jonson. 
 (^JJVE me a Look, give me a Face, 
 That makes Simplicity a Grace ; 
 Bobes loosely flowing, Hair as free ! 
 Such sweet neglect more taketh me, 
 Than all the adulteries of art ; 
 That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 
 Iteutg.— Rome. 
 From every blush that kindles in thy Cheeks, 
 Ten thousand little Loves and Graces spring 
 To revel in the Boses. 
 
 25eaUtj). — Shahspeare. 
 ()H, She doth teach the torches to burn bright! 
 Her Beauty hangs upon the cheek of Night 
 Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear: 
 Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 29 
 
 ISeatttg. — Shakspeare, 
 Move these eyes ? 
 Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
 Seem they in motion ? Here are sever'd Lips, 
 Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar 
 Should sunder such sweet friends : Here in her Hairs 
 The painter plays the spider; and hath woven 
 A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, 
 Faster than gnats in cobwebs : but her Eyes, — 
 How could he see to do them ? having made one, 
 Methinks it should have power to steal both his, 
 And leave itself unfinish'd. 
 
 13eaUtg, — Joanna Baillie. 
 'TO make the cunning artless, tame the rude, 
 
 Subdue the haughty, shake th' undaunted soul ; 
 Yea, put a bridle in the lion's mouth, 
 And lead him forth as a domestic cur, 
 These are the triumphs of all-powerful Beauty ! 
 
 ISeailtp. — Shakspeare. 
 TTER Stature, as wand-like straight, 
 
 As silver-voiced ; her Eyes as Jewel-like, 
 And cased as richly; in pace another Juno ; 
 Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, 
 The more she gives them speech. 
 
 ISeautp. — Shakspeare. 
 JJEAUTY is but a vain and doubtful Good, 
 
 A shining Glass, that fadeth suddenly ; 
 A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud; 
 A brittle glass, that's broken presently ; 
 A doubtful Good, a Gloss, a Glass, a flower, 
 Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. 
 
 And as Good lost, is seld or never found, 
 As fading Gloss no rubbing will refresh, 
 As flowers dead, lie wither'd on the ground, 
 As broken Glass no Cement can redress, 
 So Beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost, 
 In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost. 
 
 ISeautj). — Joanna Baillie. 
 TITITH Goddess-like demeanor forth she went, 
 
 Not unattended, for on her as Queen 
 A pomp of winning Graces waited still, 
 And from about her shot darts of desire 
 Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ISeatttg.— Addison. 
 
 ,r TIS not a set of Features, or Complexion, 
 
 The tincture of a Skin, that I admire : 
 Beauty soon grows familiar to the Lover, 
 Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense. 
 
 ISeaUtg. — Thomson. 
 Her form was fresher than the morning Rose, 
 When the dew wets its leaves ; unstain'd and pure, 
 As is the Lily, or the mountain Snow. 
 
 ISeaUf g. — Shakspeare. 
 TTER lily Hand her rosy Cheek lies under, 
 
 Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss : 
 Without the bed her other fair Hand was, 
 On the green coverlet : whose perfect white 
 Show'd like an April daisy on the grass, 
 With pearly sweat, resembling dew of Night. 
 Her Eyes, like marigolds, had sheathed their light ; 
 And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay, 
 Till they might open to adorn the day. 
 
 ISeaUtg.— Thomson. 
 
 A native Grace 
 Sat fair-proportion'd on her polish'd Limbs, 
 VeiPd in a simple robe, their best attire, 
 Beyond the pomp of dress: for Loveliness 
 Needs not the foreign aid of Ornament, 
 But is when unadorn'd adorn' d the most. 
 
 33eaUtg* — Shakspeare. 
 
 She looks as clear 
 As morning Roses newly wash'd with Dew. 
 
 l^CaUtg. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 When I approach 
 Her Loveliness, so absolute she seems 
 And in herself complete, so well to know 
 Her own, that what she wills to do or say, 
 Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best; ' 
 All higher knowledge in her Presence falls 
 Degraded, Wisdom in discourse with her 
 Lose discount'nanc'd, and like Folly shows. 
 
 33caUtj>. — Young. 
 What tender force, what dignity divine, 
 What virtue consecrating every Feature ; 
 Around that Neck what dross are gold and pearl ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3 J 
 
 13eaUtg.— Blair. 
 TJEAUTY ! thou pretty plaything ! dear deceit ! 
 That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, 
 And gives it a new pulse unknown before. 
 The grave discredits thee : thy Charms expunged, 
 Thy Roses faded, and thy Lilies soil'd, 
 What hast thou more to boast of? Will thy lovers 
 Flock round thee now, to gaze and do thee homage ? 
 Methinks I see thee with thy Head laid low ; 
 Whilst surfeited upon thy damask Cheek, 
 The high-fed worm, in lazy volumes roll'd, 
 Riots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution ? 
 For this thy painful labours at thy glass, 
 T' improve those Charms, and keep them in repair, 
 For which the spoiler thanks thee not ? Foul feeder ! 
 Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well, 
 And leave as keen a relish on the sense. 
 
 !3eaUtg.— Jeffrey. 
 
 Beauty 
 That transitory Flower : e'en while it lasts 
 Palls on the roving sense, when held too near, 
 Or dwelling there too long : by fits it pleases ; 
 And smells at distance best : its sweets, familiar 
 By frequent converse, soon grow dull and cloy you. 
 
 ISeautp, — Moore. 
 f)H, what a pure and sacred thing 
 
 Is Beauty, curtain'd from the sight 
 Of the gross World, illumining 
 
 One only mansion with her light : 
 Unseen by Man's disturbing eye — 
 
 The Flower, that blooms beneath the Sea 
 Too deep for sun-beams, doth not lie 
 Hid in more chaste obscurity ! 
 
 33caUtj), — Lansdowne. 
 She seizes hearts, not waiting for consent, 
 Like sudden death, that snatches unprepared ; 
 Like fire from Heav'n, scarce seen so soon as felt. 
 
 iSeaittg. — Otway. 
 A NGELS were painted fair to look like you : 
 
 There's in you all that we believe of Heav'n — 
 Amazing Brightness, Purity, and Truth, 
 Eternal Joy, and everlasting Peace. 
 D 
 
82 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^tauty. — Roive. 
 The Bloom of op'ning Flowers, unsullied Beauty, 
 Softness, and sweetest Innocence she wears, 
 ALd looks like Nature in the World's first Spring. 
 
 IkaUtg* — Southern. 
 how I grudge the grave this heav'nly Form ! 
 Thy Beauties will inspire the arms of Death, 
 And warm the pale cold tyrant into life. 
 
 ISeailtj)- — Roioe. 
 Is she not more than painting can express, 
 Or youthful Poets fancy, when they love. 
 
 ISeaUtg. — Patterson. 
 fatal Beauty ! why art thou bestow'd 
 On hapless Woman still to make her wretched ! 
 Betray'd by thee, how many are undone ! 
 
 33eaUtg. — Lee. 
 A lavish planet reign'd when she was born, 
 And made her of such kindred mould to Heav'n, 
 She seems more Heav'n's than ours. 
 
 15caUtg. — Dry den. 
 QNE who would change the worship of all climates, 
 
 And make a new Religion where'er she comes, 
 Unite the differing faiths of all the World, 
 To idolize her Face. 
 
 ISeaUtg.— From the French. 
 Beauty, unaccompanied by Virtue, is as a Flower without Perfume. 
 
 Ueatltg. — St. Pierre. 
 T^VERY trait of Beauty may be referred to some virtue, as to In- 
 nocence, Candour, Generosity, Modesty, and Heroism. 
 
 13eaUtg. — From the Italian. 
 gOCRATES called Beauty a short-lived Tyranny; Plato, a Pri- 
 vilege of Nature; Theophrastus, a silent Cheat; Theocritus, a 
 delightful Prejudice; Carneades, a solitary Kingdom ; Domitian 
 said, that nothing was more grateful ; Aristotle affirmed that 
 Beauty was better than all the letters of recommendation in the 
 World; Homer, that 'twas a glorious gift of Nature; and Ovid, 
 alluding to him, calls it a favour bestowed by the Gods. 
 
 3SeaUtp, — Lord Greville. 
 THHE Criterion of true Beauty is, that it increases on examination , 
 of false, that it lessens. There is something, therefore, in true 
 Beauty that corresponds with right reason, and is not merely the 
 creature of Fancy. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 33 
 
 iStaUty.—Dnjden. 
 \TARK her majestic Fabrick ; she's a Temple 
 
 Sacred by birth, and built by hands Divine : 
 Her Soul's the Deity that lodges there; 
 Nor is the Pile unworthy of the God. 
 
 ^fatltj). — Anonymous. 
 TJEAUTY is spread abroad through earth and sea and sky, and 
 dwells on the face and form, and in the heart of Man; and he 
 will shrink from the thought of its being a thing which he, or any 
 one else, could monopolize. He will deem that the highest and 
 most blessed privilege of his genius is, that it enables him to che- 
 rish the widest and fullest sympathy with the hearts and thoughts 
 of his brethren. 
 
 ISeaUtJ). — Dryden. 
 Her Eyes, her Lips, her Cheeks, her Shapes, her Features, 
 Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand; by Love 
 Himself in love. 
 
 ISeailtjf). — Lee. 
 
 she is all Perfections ! 
 All that the blooming Earth can send forth fair; 
 All that the gaudy Heavens could drop down glorious. 
 
 13eaUtP.— Otway. 
 Oh ! she has Beauty might ensnare 
 A Conqueror's soul, and make him leave his crown 
 At random, to be scuffled for by slaves. 
 
 13eaut2. — Colton. 
 T'Hx'VT is not the most perfect Beauty, which, in public, would 
 attract the greatest observation ; nor even that which the 
 Statuary would admit to be a faultless piece of clay, kneaded up 
 with blood. But that is true Beauty, which has not only a Sub- 
 stance, but a Spirit, — a Beauty that we must intimately know, 
 justly to appreciate, — a Beauty lighted up in conversation, where 
 the Mind shines as it were through its casket, where, in the lan- 
 guage of the Poet, " the eloquent blood spoke in her Cheeks, and 
 so distinctly wrought, that we might almost say her Body thought." 
 An order and a mode of Beauty which, the more we know, the more 
 we accuse ourselves for not having before discovered those thousand 
 Graces which bespeak that their owner has a Soul. This is that 
 Beauty which never cloys, possessing Charms as resistless as those 
 of the fascinating Egyptian, for which Antony wisely paid the bau 
 ble of a World, — a Beauty like the rising of his own Italian Suns, 
 always enchanting, never the same. 
 
34 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 33eaUt}J. — Clarendon. 
 TT was a very proper answer to him who asked, why any man 
 should be delighted with Beauty ? that it was a question that 
 none but a blind man could ask ; since any beautiful object doth 
 so much attract the sight of all men, that it is in no man's power 
 not to be pleased with it. 
 
 SSeailtg. — Steele. 
 TO give pain is the tyranny, to make happy the true empire, of 
 
 Beauty. 
 
 IBeaUtg. — Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 "REAUTY is the mark God sets on virtue. Every natural action is 
 graceful. Every heroic act is also decent, and causes the place 
 and the bystanders to shine. When a noble act is done — perchance 
 in a scene of great natural beauty; wheu Leonidas and his three 
 hundred martyrs consume one day in dying, and the sun and moon 
 come each and look at them once in the steep defile of Thermopylae 
 when Arnold Winkelried, in the high Alps, under the shadow of 
 the avalanche, gathers in his side a sheaf of Austrian spears to 
 break the line for his comrades; are not these heroes entitled to 
 add the beauty of the scene to the beauty of the deed? 
 
 SSeautg of Nature.— DwigU. 
 
 "THE beauty and splendour of the objects around us, it is ever to 
 be remarked, are not necessary to their existence, nor to what 
 we commonly intend their usefulness. It is therefore to be regarded 
 as a source of pleasure gratuitously superinduced upon the general 
 nature of the objects themselves, and in this light as a testimony 
 of the Divine Goodness peculiarly affecting. 
 
 becoming OUr OlMt jfttoter.— Anonymous. 
 "pVERYBODY is impatient for the time when he shall be his 
 own Master; and if coming of Age were to make one so, if 
 Years could indeed "bring the philosophic Mind/' it would rightly 
 be a day of rejoicing to a whole household and neighbourhood. 
 But too often he who is impatient to become his own Master, 
 when the outward checks are removed, merely becomes his own 
 Slave. 
 
 ^etjabtOUr.— La Bmyere. 
 A COLDNESS or an Incivility manifested towards us by a 
 Superior, makes us hate him ; but no sooner does he con- 
 descend to honour us with a Salute or a Smile, than we forget 
 th<" former Indignity, and become perfectly reconciled to him. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 35 
 
 ISnng Elone.— Byron. 
 
 To view alone 
 The fairest scenes of land and deep, 
 With None to listen and reply 
 To thoughts with which my heart beat high, 
 Were irksome. 
 
 Wqz tillage i3elte. — Cowper. 
 
 JJOW soft the Music of those Village Bells. 
 
 Falling at intervals upon the Ear 
 In Cadence sweet ! now dying all away, 
 Now pealing loud again and louder still, 
 Clear and sonorous as the gale comes on. 
 With easy force it opens all the cells 
 Where Mem'ry slept. 
 
 33enebolcnce. — Shakspeare. 
 
 'Tis pity, Bounty had not eyes behind; 
 
 That Man might ne'er be wretched for his Mind. 
 
 UenebulettCe. — Mackenzie. 
 'THERE is no use of money equal to that of Beneficence ; here 
 the enjoyment grows on reflection. 
 
 ISenebolence. — Coiton. 
 
 'THERE is nothing that requires so strict an Economy as our 
 Benevolence. We should husband our Means as the Agricul- 
 turist his manure, which if he spread over too large a superficies 
 produces no crop, if over too small a surface, exuberates in rank- 
 ness and in weeds. 
 
 Benebolcnce.— Kant. 
 
 TJENEFICENCE is a duty. He who frequently practises it, and 
 sees his benevolent intentions realized, at length comes really 
 to love him to whom he has done Good. When, therefore, it is 
 said, " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," it is not meant, 
 thou shalt love him first, and do him Good in consequence of that 
 Love, but, thou shalt do Good to thy neighbour; and this thy 
 Beneficence will engender in thee that Love to Mankind which is 
 the fulness and consummation of the Inclination to do Good. 
 
 13cnebolence. — Cicero. 
 
 "VTEN resemble the gods in nothing so much as in doing Good 
 to their fellow-creatures. 
 
 H3etteb0lence.— From the French. 
 THE Conqueror is regarded with awe, the wise Man commands 
 our esteem; but it is the benevolent Man who wins our af- 
 fections. 
 
 i)2 
 
36 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %$tntboUncz.—Howeis. 
 
 'THE disposition to give a cup of cold water to a disciple is a 
 far nobler property than the finest intellect. Satan has a fine 
 intellect, but not the image of God. 
 
 ISenebolenee. — Seneca. 
 
 There will ever be a place for Virtue. 
 ISenebolCttX*. — Shakspeare. 
 
 For his Bounty, 
 There was no Winter in't; an Autumn 'twas, 
 That grew the more by reaping. 
 
 23eu1tftfermettt. — Shakspeare. 
 'THERE was Speech in their Dumbness, Language in their very 
 Gesture ; they looked, as they had heard of a World ransomed, 
 or one destroyed : a notable passion of Wonder appeared in them ; 
 but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not 
 say, if the importance were Joy, or Sorrow; but in the extremity 
 of the one it must needs be. 
 
 Cf)e l&ifiU.— Wayland. 
 T'HAT the truths of the Bible have the power of awakening an 
 intense moral feeling in Man under every variety of character, 
 learned, or ignorant, civilized or savage; that they make bad men 
 good, and send a pulse of healthful feeling through all the domestic, 
 civil, and social relations; that they teach men to love right, to 
 hate wrong, and to seek each other's welfare, as the children of one 
 common Parent; that they control the baleful passions of the human 
 heart, and thus make men proficient in the science of self-govern- 
 ment; and, finally, that they teach him to aspire after a conformity 
 to a Being of infinite holiness, and fill him with hopes infinitely 
 more purifying, more exalted, more suited to his nature, than any 
 other which this world has ever known, are facts as incontrovertible 
 as the laws of philosophy, or the demonstrations of mathematics. 
 IStgOttg.— Drydm. 
 The good old Man, too eager in Dispute, 
 Flew high; and as his Christian Fury rose, 
 Damn'd all for Heretics who durst oppose. 
 HWpttg. — Feltham. 
 QHOW me the Man who would go to Heaven alone if he could, 
 and in that Man I will show you one who will never be ad« 
 mitted into Heaven. 
 
 iStflOttg*— Prior. 
 QOON their crude Notions with each other fought; 
 
 The adverse Sect denied what this had taught; 
 And he at length the ampliest triumph gain'd, 
 Who contradicted what the last maintained. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 37 
 
 13t0grapf)9. — Terence. 
 "VTY advice is, to consult the Lives of other Men, as he would a look- 
 ing-glass, and from thence fetch examples for his own imitation. 
 
 CJje Uobe Of lo\XiS%. — Thomson. 
 ,r TIS Love creates their Melody, and all 
 
 This waste of Music is the Voice of Love ; 
 That even to Birds, and Beasts, the tender arts 
 Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind 
 Try every winning way inventive Love 
 Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates 
 Pour forth their little souls. 
 
 Mtfy. — Charron. 
 r rHOSE who have nothing else to recommend them to the respect 
 of others, but only their Blood, cry it up at a great rate, and 
 have their mouths perpetually full of it. They swell and vapour, 
 and you are sure to hear of their families and relations every third 
 word. By this mark they commonly distinguish themselves; you 
 may depend upon it there is no good bottom, nothing of true worth 
 of their own when they insist so much, and set their credit upon 
 that of others. 
 
 Uirtf). — Lord Greville. 
 TyHEN real Nobleness accompanies that imaginary one of Birth, 
 the imaginary seems to mix with real, and becomes real too. 
 
 Cf)e 13tttf)to. — Young. 
 
 Alas ! this Day 
 First gave me Birth, and (which is strange to tell) 
 The Fates e'er since, as watching its return, 
 Have caught it as it flew, and mark'd it deep 
 With something great; extremes of good or ill. 
 
 ISUxfimzm.— Milton. 
 
 Thus with the year 
 Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Morn, 
 Or sight of vernal Bloom, or summer's Rose, 
 Or Flocks, or Herds, or human Face divine; 
 But Cloud instead, and ever-during Dark, 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of Men 
 Cut off, and for the Book of Knowledge fair 
 Presented with a universal Blank 
 Of Nature's Works, to me expung'd and ras'd, 
 And Wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
38 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^BUn^ntsz.— Milton. 
 
 r\ DARK, dark, dark, amid the blaze of Noon, 
 
 Irrevocably dark, total Eclipse 
 Without all hope of Day ! 
 
 first created Beam, and thou great Word, 
 Let there be Light, and Light was over all; 
 
 *Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree? 
 
 WlOfiti. — Shakspeare. 
 HiGH-stomach'.d are they both, and full of Ire, 
 In rage deaf as the Sea, hasty as Fire. 
 
 3Slimtne!S0. — Shakspeare. 
 1TE speaks home; you may relish him more in the Soldier, than 
 in the Scholar. 
 
 iSlUSfjhtg* — Spenser. 
 HPHE doubtful Mayd, seeing herself descryde, 
 
 Was all abasht, and her pure Yvory 
 Into a clear Carnation suddeine dyde; 
 As fayre Aurora rysing hastily 
 Doth by her Blushing tell that she did lye 
 All night in old Tithonus' frozen bed, 
 Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly. 
 
 !3lUSf)^0» — Scott. 
 With every change his Features play'd, 
 As Aspens show the Light and Shade. 
 
 Coasting.— Young. 
 We rise in Glory, as we sink in Pride ; 
 Where Boasting ends, there Dignity begins. 
 
 13ua!3tmg. — Shakspeare. 
 Conceit, more rich in Matter than in Words, 
 Brags of his Substance, not of Ornament: 
 They are but Beggars that can count their Worth. 
 
 13oaiStmg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I'll turn two mincing steps 
 Into a manly stride : and speak of Frays 
 Like a fine bragging Youth : and tell quaint Lies, 
 How honourable Ladies sought my Love, 
 Which I denying they fell sick and died : 
 
 1 could not do with all: — then I will repent, 
 And wish for all that, that I had not kill'd them : 
 And twenty of these puny Lies I'll tell, 
 
 That Men shall swear, I have discontinued school 
 Above a twelvemonth. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 39 
 
 ISoaStmg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Who knows himself a Braggart, 
 Let him fear this; for it will come to pass, 
 That every Braggart shall be found an Ass. 
 
 3300fe'iHakmg. — Edward H. Everett. 
 TT is remarkable that many of the best Books of all sorts have 
 been written by persons who, at the time of writing them, had 
 no intention of becoming authors. Indeed, with slight inclination 
 to systemize and exaggerate, one might be almost tempted to main- 
 tain the position — however paradoxical it may at the first blush 
 appear — that no good Book can be written in any other way; that 
 the only literature of any value is that which grows indirectly out 
 of the real action of society, intended directly to affect some other 
 purpose; and that when a man sits doggedly in his study and 
 says to himself "I mean to write a good Book" it is certain, from 
 the necessity of the case, that the result will be a bad one. 
 
 iftaQtte,— FuUer. 
 
 T'HOU mayst as well expect to grow stronger by always eating as 
 wiser by always reading. Too much overcharges Nature, and 
 turns more into disease than nourishment. 'Tis thought and diges- 
 tion which makes Books serviceable, and gives health and vigour to 
 the mind. 
 
 Uoofc0.— Fuller. 
 
 T'O divert at any time a troublesome fancy, run to thy Books : 
 they presently fix thee to them, and drive the other out of thy 
 thoughts. They always receive thee with the same kindness. 
 
 15 o fcS . — Tom Brown. 
 "PLAYS and Romances sell as well as Books of Devotion; but 
 with this difference ; more people read the former than buy 
 them ; and more buy the latter than read them. 
 
 iUOOftj*.— Anon. 
 
 T HAVE ever gained the- most profit, and the most pleasure also, 
 from the Books which have made me think the most; and, wheu 
 the difficulties have once been overcome, these are the Books 
 which have struck the deepest root, not only in my memory and 
 understanding, but likewise in my affections. 
 
 ^OOftJS.— Hare. 
 
 "HOOKS, as Dryden has aptly termed them, are spectacles to read 
 Nature. Eschylus and Aristotle, Shakspeare and Bacon, are 
 Priests who preach and expound the mysteries of Man and the 
 Universe. They teach us to understand and feel what we see, to 
 decipher and syllable the hieroglyphics of the senses. 
 
40 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 1300kS Joiner tana. 
 
 Books, like Friends, should be few and well chosen. 
 
 |8O0fcj5. — Milton. 
 
 AS good almost kill a Man as kill a good Book. Many a man 
 lives a burden to the Earth ; but a good Book is the precious 
 Life-blood of a Master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on pur- 
 pose, to a life beyond life. 
 
 BOOKS. — Clarendon. 
 fTE who loves not Books before he comes to thirty years of age, 
 will hardly love them enough afterward to understand them. 
 
 13OOK0. — Colton. 
 "\TANY Books require no thought from those who read them, and 
 for a very simple reason ; — they made no such demand upon 
 those who wrote them. Those Works, therefore, are the most valu- 
 able, that set our thinking faculties in the fullest operation. For 
 as the solar light calls forth all the latent powers and dormant 
 principles of vegetation contained in the kernel, but which, without 
 such a stimulus, would neither have struck root downward, nor 
 borne fruit upward, so it is with the light that is intellectual; it 
 calls forth and awakens into energy those latent principles of 
 thought in the minds of others, which, without this stimulus, reflec- 
 tion would not have matured, nor examination improved, nor action 
 embodied. 
 
 BOOKS. — Shenstone. 
 *Y\7TIEN self-interest inclines a man to print, he should consider 
 that the purchaser expects a penny-worth for his penny, and 
 has reason to asperse his honesty if he finds himself deceived; also, 
 that it is possible to publish a Book of no value, which is too fre- 
 quently the product of such mercenary people. 
 
 BOOKS. — Channing. 
 CtOVf be thanked for Books. They are the voices of the distant 
 and the dead, and make us heirs of the spiritual life of past 
 ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to all, who will 
 faithfully use them, the society, the spiritual presence of the best 
 and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am. No matter 
 though the prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure 
 dwelling. If the sacred writers will enter and take up their abode 
 under my roof, if Milton will cross my threshold to sing to me of 
 Paradise, and Shakspeare to open to me the worlds of imagination 
 and the workings of the human heart, and Franklin to enrich me 
 with his practical wisdom, I shall not pine for want of intellectual 
 companionship, and I may become a cultivated man though ex- 
 cluded from what is called the best society in the place where I live. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 41 
 
 BfJCfe — Lord Grecille. 
 HTHE man who only relates what he has heard or read, or talks of 
 sensible men and sensible Books in general terms, or of cele- 
 brated passages in celebrated Authors, may talk about sense ; but 
 he alone, who speaks the sentiments that arise from the force of 
 his own mind employed upon the subjects before him, can talk 
 sense. 
 
 ISfJfjItS. — Longfellow. 
 A ["ANT readers judge of the power of a Book by the shock it gives 
 their feelings — as some savage tribes determine the power of 
 muskets by their recoil; that being considered best which fairly 
 prostrates the purchaser. 
 
 330CrclMTtg. — Shakspeare. 
 Neither a Borrower, nor a Lender be : 
 For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; 
 And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
 
 WtyZ 130ttle.— Johnson. 
 TN the Bottle discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice for courage, 
 and bashfulness for confidence. 
 
 Cf)e Braggart. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Here's a Stay, 
 That shakes the rotten carcase of old Death 
 Out of his rags ! Here's a large Mouth, indeed, 
 That spits forth Death, and Mountains, Hocks and Seas; 
 Talk as familiarly of roaring Lions, 
 As Maids of thirteen do of Puppy -Dogs ! 
 What Cannoneer begot this lusty Blood ? 
 He speaks plain Cannon, Fire, and Smoke, and Bounce ; 
 He gives the Bastinado with his Tongue; 
 Our ears are cudgel'd. 
 
 $3rtUtanCg. — Longfellow. 
 Yl r ITH many readers Brilliancy of style passes for affluence of 
 thought; they mistake buttercups in the grass for immensura- 
 ble gold mines under the ground. 
 
 ButOung.— Kett. 
 
 "VKVER build after you are five-and-forty ; have five years income 
 in hand before you lay a Brick, and always calculate the expense 
 at double the estimate. 
 
 13u0ine0S. — Saville. 
 A MAN who cannot mind his own Business, is not to be trusted 
 with the King's. 
 
42 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^UStneiSS* — Steele. 
 r F0 men addicted to delights, Business is an interruption ; to 
 such as are cold to delights, Business is an entertainment. 
 For which reason it was said to one who commended a dull man 
 for his Application, " No thanks to him; if he had no Business, 
 he would have nothing to do." 
 
 $3 US tit eSS. — Shakspeare. 
 To Business that we love, we rise betime, 
 And go to it with delight. 
 
 Justness* — Swift, 
 
 "VfEN of great parts are often unfortunate in the management 
 of public Business, because they are apt to go out of the 
 common road by the quickness of their imagination. 
 
 $3ugtng* — Franklin. 
 RUY what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy 
 necessaries. 
 
 (ftallmg. — Shakspeare. 
 Virtue's office never breaks men's troth. 
 
 (Mitt. — Moore. 
 . TTOW calm, how beautiful comes on 
 
 The stilly Hour, when Storms are gone ; 
 When warring Winds have died away, 
 And Clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
 Melt off, and leave the Land and Sea 
 Sleeping in bright Tranquillity, — 
 When the blue Waters rise and fall, 
 In sleepy Sunshine mantling all ; 
 And ev'n that Swell the Tempest leaves, 
 Is like the full and silent heaves 
 Of Lovers' Hearts, when newly blest, 
 Too newly to be quite at rest ! 
 
 (2* aim. — Moore. 
 "'TWAS one of those ambrosial eves 
 
 A day of storm so often leaves 
 At its calm setting — when the West 
 Opens her golden Bowers of Rest, 
 And a moist radiance from the skies 
 Shoots trembling down, as from the eyes 
 Of some meek penitent, whose last 
 Bright hours atone for dark ones past, 
 And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, 
 Shine, as they fall with light from Heaven ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 43 
 
 (Mumng. — Shakspeare. 
 DE thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape 
 Calumny. 
 
 (tfantlOUr. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I hold it cowardice, 
 To rest mistrustful where a noble Heart 
 Hath pawn'd an open Hand in sign of Love. 
 (Eant— Burns. 
 T EARN three-mile Pray'rs, an' half-mile Graces, 
 
 Wi' weel-spread Looves, an' lang wrv Faces; 
 Grunt up a solemn, lengthened Groan, 
 And damn a* parties but your own ; 
 I'll warrant then, ye're nae Deceiver, 
 A steady, sturdy, staunch Believer. 
 
 (Kaitt. — Sliakspearc. 
 'Tis too much proved, — that, with Devotion's Visage, 
 And pious Action, we do sugar o'er 
 The Devil himself. 
 
 <&a$tiQVl8nt$B.— ChesterfeM. 
 A VULGAR Man is captious and jealous ; eager and impetuous 
 about trifles. He suspects himself to be slighted, and thinks 
 every thing that is said meant at him. 
 
 (B*clt£. — Shakspeare. 
 QARE keeps his Watch in every old Man's eye, 
 And where Care lodges, Sleep will never lie ; 
 But where unbruised Youth with unstufF'd brain 
 Doth couch his limbs, there golden Sleep doth reign. 
 
 (KatC. — Spenser. 
 TJUDE was his garment, and to rags all rent, 
 
 Ne better had he, ne for better car'd ; 
 With blistred hands emongst the cinders brent, 
 And fingers filthie, with long nayles unpar'd, 
 Right fit to rend the food on which he far'd : 
 His name was Care ; a blacksmith by his trade, 
 That neither day nor night from working spar'd, 
 But to small purpose yron wedges made : 
 Those be unquiet thoughts that careful Minds invade 
 
 (KtW0. — Shakspeare. 
 Q POLISH'D Perturbation ! golden Care ! 
 
 That keep'st the ports of Slumber open wide 
 To many a watchful night ! — he sleeps with 't now, 
 Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, 
 As he, whose brow, with homely biggin bound, 
 Snores out the watch of Night. 
 E 
 
B u t 
 
 G ] 
 
 44 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 date* — Burns. 
 
 human bodies are sic fools, 
 For a' their colleges and schools, 
 That when nae real ills perplex them, 
 They mak enow themscls to vex them. 
 
 (toe* — Shakspeare. 
 Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, 
 For things that are not to be remedied. 
 
 Ittnglg (ftareS, — Shakspeare. 
 IVES not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade 
 To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, 
 Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy 
 To Kings, that fear their subjects' treachery ? 
 0, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. 
 
 The shepherd's homely curds, 
 His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, 
 His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, 
 All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, 
 Is far beyond a Prince's delicates, 
 His viands sparkling in a golden cup, 
 His body couched in a curious bed, 
 When Care, Mistrust, and Treason, wait on him. 
 
 (ftause of all (Causes. — shakspeare. 
 
 TTE that of greatest works is Finisher 
 
 Oft does them by the weakest minister : 
 So Holy Writ in babes hath judgment shown, 
 When judges have been babes. Great floods have flown 
 From simple sources ; and great seas have dried, 
 When miracles have by the greatest been denied. 
 Oft Expectation fails, and most oft there 
 Where most it promises; and oft it hits, 
 Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most sits. 
 It is not so with Him that all things knows, 
 As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows : 
 But most it is presumptuous in us, when 
 The help of Heaven we count the act of Men. 
 
 (£aU00 atttl IBfoCt. — Shakspeare. 
 "JV-TAD let us grant him then ; and now remains, 
 
 That we find out the Cause of this Effect; 
 Or, rather say, the Cause of this Defect ; 
 For this Effect, defective, comes by Cause. 
 
 (&a\lti(m.—PubUus Syrius. 
 It is a good thing to learn Caution by the misfortunes of others. 
 
OR, THING S NEW AXD OLD. 45 
 
 (SmtiOtt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Things, done well, 
 And with a Care, exempt themselves from fear : 
 Things, done without Example, in their issue 
 Are to be fear'd. 
 
 ©eiesttart streets — Cicero. 
 
 f PERCEIVE you contemplate the seat and habitation of men ; 
 which, if it appears as little to you as it really is, fix you eyes 
 perpetually upon heavenly Objects, and despise earthly. 
 
 (&tnmxe.—Pope. 
 
 TVTE ought in humanity no more to despise a man for the misfor- 
 tunes of the mind than for those of the body, when they arc 
 such as he cannot help. 
 
 (KenSUre. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "pEW persons have sufficient wisdom to prefer Censure which is 
 useful to them, to Praise which deceives them. 
 
 ©ensure. — Young. 
 TTORACE appears in good humour while he censures, and there- 
 fore his Censure has the more weight, as supposed to proceed 
 from Judgment, not from Passion. 
 
 (Ceremony. — Shakspeare. 
 Ceremony 
 "Was devised at first to set a gloss 
 On faint deeds, hollow welcomes, 
 But where there is true friendship, there needs none. 
 
 ©eremonj}.— Rare. 
 
 "pORMS and Regularity of Proceeding, if they are not justice, par- 
 take much of the nature of justice, which, in its highest sense, 
 is the spirit of distributive Order. 
 
 (Eextmnxu). — SeMen. 
 
 (CEREMONY keeps up things ; 'tis like a penny glass to a rich 
 spirit, or some excellent water; without it the water were spilt, 
 and the spirit lost. 
 
 ©erememp.— Steele. 
 
 A S Ceremony is the invention of wise men to keep fools at a dis- 
 tance, so Good-breeding is an expedient to make fools and wise- 
 men equals. 
 
 ©eremOUP. — Shakspeare. 
 f\ HARD condition, and twin-born with greatness, 
 
 Subject to breath of ev'ry fool, whose sense 
 No more can feel but his own wringing. 
 What infinite heart-ease must Kings neglect, 
 
16 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 That private Men enjoy? and what have Kings, 
 That Privates have not too, save Ceremony? 
 
 Save geu'ral Ceremony? 
 
 And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? 
 
 "What kind of God art thou? that suffer'st more 
 
 Of mortal griefs, than do thy worshippers. 
 
 What are thy rents? what are thy comings-in? 
 
 O Ceremony, show me but thy worth : 
 
 What is thy toll, Adoration? 
 
 Art thou aught else but Place, Degree and Form, 
 
 Creating awe and fear in other men? 
 
 "Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd, 
 
 Than they in fearing. 
 
 What drink'st thou oft, instead of Homage sweet, 
 
 But poison'd Flatt'ry? be sick, great Greatness, 
 
 And bid thy Ceremony give thee cure. 
 
 Think'st thou, the fiery fever will go out 
 
 With Titles blown from Adulation ? 
 
 Will it give place to flexure and low bending? 
 
 Can'st thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee, 
 
 Command the health of it? no, thou proud dream, 
 
 That pkiyst so subtly with a King's repose. 
 
 (£eXtmfm$. — Chesterfield. 
 A LL Ceremonies are in themselves very silly things: but yet a 
 man of the world should know them. They are the outworks 
 of manners and decency, which would be too often broken in upon, 
 if it were not for that defence, which keeps the enemy at a proper 
 distance. It is for that reason that I always treat fools and cox- 
 combs with great Ceremony; true Good-breeding not being a suffi- 
 cient barrier against them. 
 
 (EfjattCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 r rHE generality of men have, like plants, latent properties, which 
 Chance brings to light. 
 
 <£JjattCe. — Terence. 
 T-TOW often events, by Chance, and unexpectedly come to pass, 
 which you had not dared even to hope for ! 
 
 i&fjattge*— Johnson. 
 
 QUCH are the vicissitudes of the World, through all its parts, 
 that day and night, labour and rest, hurry and retirement, en- 
 dear each other: such are the Changes that keep the mind in 
 action: we desire, we pursue, we obtain, we are satiated; we de- 
 sire something else, and begin a new pursuit. 
 
OF, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 47 
 
 <fti)a00. — Shakspeaxe. 
 
 Let Order die, 
 And let this World no longer be a stage, 
 To feed contention in a lingering act; 
 But let one spirit of the first-born Cain 
 Reign in all bosoms, that each heart being set 
 On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, 
 And Darkness be the burier of the Dead ! 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 I-IlS real Habitude gave life and grace 
 To appertainings and to ornament, 
 Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case : 
 All aids themselves made fairer by their place; 
 Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim 
 Piec'd not his grace, but were all grae'd by him. 
 So on the tip of his subduing tongue 
 All kinds of arguments and question deep, 
 All replication prompt, and reason strong, 
 For his advantage still did wake and sleep : 
 To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, 
 He had the dialect and different skill, 
 Catching all passions in his craft of will; 
 That he did in the general bosom reign 
 Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted. 
 
 (EijcUaCter. — Sir William Temple. 
 r THE best rules to form a young Man are, to talk little, to hear 
 much, to reflect alone upon what has passed in company, to dis- 
 trust one's own opinions, and value others that deserve it. 
 
 <&f)axatttt.—Mer1cel 
 
 ORDINARY people regard a man of a certain force and inflexi- 
 bility of Character as they do a lion. They look at him with 
 a sort of wonder — perhaps they admire him; but they will on no 
 account house with him. The lap-dog, who wags his tail and licks 
 the hand, and cringes at the nod of every stranger, is a much more 
 acceptable companion to them. 
 
 Character. — Chesterfield. 
 TyHEN upon a trial a man calls witnesses to his Character, and 
 those witnesses only say, that they never heard, nor do not 
 know any thing ill of him, it intimates at best a neutral and in- 
 significant Character. 
 
 Character. — Lavater. 
 A CTIONS, looks, words, steps, form the alphabet by which you 
 may spell Characters. 
 
 e2 
 
4<3 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 w 
 
 ([tfjatatUX. — Fitzosbome. 
 ^ r EliE I to make trial of an j person's qualifications for an union 
 of so much delicacy, there is no part of his conduct I would 
 sooner single out, than to observe him in his resentments. And this 
 not upon the maxim frequently advanced, " that the best friends 
 make the bitterest enemies;" but on the contrary, because I am 
 persuaded that he who is capable of being a bitter enemy, can 
 never possess the necessary virtues that constitute a true friend. 
 
 (EfjaraCter. — Shakspeare. 
 He sits 'rnongst men, like a descended God : 
 He hath a kind of honour sets him off, 
 More than a mortal seeming. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 HPHERE are a sort of men, whose visages 
 
 Do cream and mantle like a standing pond ; 
 And do a wilful stillness entertain, 
 With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 
 Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; 
 As who should say, " I am Sir Oracle, 
 And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark !" 
 
 I do know of these, 
 That therefore only are reputed wise, 
 For saying nothing; who, I am very sure, 
 If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, 
 Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 
 
 (CJjataCtet. — Shakspeare. 
 Thou art full of love and honesty, 
 And weigh'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath, — 
 Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more : 
 For such things, in a false, disloyal knave, 
 Are tricks of custom; but, in a man that's just, 
 They are close denotements working from the heart, 
 That passion cannot rule. 
 
 <&f)ara.Ctet. — Shakspeare. 
 1 WILL no more trust him when he leers, than I will a ser- 
 pent when he hisses: he will spend his mouth, and promise, 
 like Brabler the hound : but when he performs, astronomers fore- 
 tell it: it is prodigious, there will come some change; the sun 
 borrows of the moon, when he keeps his word. 
 
 <£\) atactet*. — Bruyere. 
 T'HERE are peculiar ways in men, which discover what they are 
 through the most subtle feints and closest disguises 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 49 
 
 (Character. — Shakspeare. 
 "^"ATURE hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : 
 
 Some, that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
 And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper; 
 And other of such vinegar aspect, 
 That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, 
 Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 
 
 &i&XatUX. — Skakspeare. 
 
 0, he's as tedious 
 As is a tir'd horse, a railing wife ; 
 Worse than a smoky house : — I had rather live 
 With cheese and garlic, in a windmill, far, 
 Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me, 
 In any summer-house in Christendom. 
 
 (&t)aZatm.—Lavater. 
 VOU may depend upon it that he is a good man whose intimate 
 friends are all good. 
 
 <&§UXMtttX.— Skakspeare. 
 
 J>EPUTATIOX, reputation, reputation ! 0, I have lost my 
 reputation ! I have lost the immortal part of myself; and 
 what remains is bestial. 
 
 (&\)ZKMtX.—Shakspeare. 
 JJEPUT ATION ;— oft got without merit, and lost without de- 
 serving. 
 
 (Character. — Socrates. 
 THE way to gain a good Reputation is to endeavour to be what 
 you desire to appear. 
 
 Character, — Novaiis. 
 
 Character is a perfectly educated will. 
 
 <&f)ataCtet. —Shakspeare. 
 
 This is he 
 That kiss'd away his hand in courtesy; 
 This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, 
 That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice 
 In honourable terms; nay, he can sing 
 A mean most meanly ; and in ushering, 
 Mend him who can; the ladies call him, sweet; 
 The stairs as he treads on them kiss his feet. 
 
 (Character. — Shakspeare. 
 TE will steal himself into a man's favor, and, for a week, escape 
 a ^rrcat deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you 
 nave him ever after. 
 
50 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 character. — coiton. 
 
 'THE two most precious things this side the grave are our 
 Reputation and our Life. But it is to be lamented that the 
 most contemptible whisper may deprive us of the one, and the 
 weakest weapon of the other. A wise man, therefore, will be 
 more anxious to deserve a fair name than to possess it, and this 
 will teach him so to live, as not to be afraid to die. 
 
 (Character. — Shahspeare. 
 'THIS fellow's wise enough to play the fool ; 
 And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit : 
 He must observe their mood on whom he jests, 
 The quality of persons and the time ; 
 And, like the haggard, check at every feather 
 That comes before his eye. This is a practice, 
 As full of labour as a wise man's art; 
 For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit ; 
 But wise men, folly fallen, quite taint their wit. 
 
 Character.— Fuller. 
 
 rj-ET and preserve a good name, if it were but for the public 
 service : for one of a deserved Reputation hath oftentimes an 
 opportunity to do that good, which another cannot that wants it. 
 And he may practise it with more security and success. 
 
 (EjjataCter. — Shahspeare. 
 HTHOU wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair 
 less, in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a 
 man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou 
 hast hazel eyes ; what eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a 
 quarrel ? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat. 
 
 (Ejaracter. — Lavater. 
 
 A VOID connecting yourself with Characters whose good and bad 
 sides are unmixed, and have not fermented together ; they 
 resemble vials of vinegar and oil ; or palettes set with colours ; they 
 are either excellent at home and intolerable abroad, or insufferable 
 within doors and excellent in public : they are unfit for friendship 
 merely because their stamina, their ingredients of character are too 
 single, too much apart; let them be finely ground up with each 
 other, and they will be incomparable. 
 
 (Eijatacttu— Coiton. 
 
 T)UKE Chartres used to boast that no man could have less real 
 value for Character than himself, yet he would gladly give 
 twenty thousand pounds for a good one, because he could immedi- 
 ately make double that sum by means of it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 51 
 
 Character. — Addison. 
 T>EOPLE of gloomy, uncheerful imaginations, or of envious, 
 malignant tempers, whatever kind of life they are engaged in, 
 will discover their natural tincture of mind in all their thoughts, 
 words, and actions. As the finest wines have often the taste of the 
 soil, so even the most religious thoughts often draw something 
 that is particular from the constitution of the mind in which they 
 arise. When folly or superstition strikes in with this natural de- 
 pravity of temper, it is not in the power even of religion itself to 
 preserve the Character of the person who is possessed with it from 
 appearing highly absurd and ridiculous. 
 
 <£f)atacter. — Shakspeare. 
 HPHIS man hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions; 
 he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as a bear, slow as the ele- 
 phant : a man, into whom nature hath so crowded humours, that 
 his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion : 
 there is no man hath a virtue, that he hath not a glimpse of; nor 
 any man an attaint, but he carries some stain of it : he is me- 
 lancholy without cause, and merry against the hair : he hath the 
 joints of every thing; but every thing so out of joint, that he is a 
 gouty Briareus, many hands and no use ; or purblind Argus, all 
 eyes and no sight. 
 
 (£IjataCteC. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Spare in diet; 
 Free from gross passion, or of mirth, or anger ; 
 Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood; 
 Garnish'd and deck'd with modest compliment; 
 Not working with the eye, without the ear, 
 And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither. 
 
 (&f)axacttx.—A7}cm. 
 
 MANY persons carry about their Characters in their hands; not 
 a few under their feet. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 T>ETNG not propp'd by ancestry, (whose grace 
 Chalks successors their way J neither allied 
 To eminent assistants, but spider-like, 
 Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, 
 The force of his own merit makes his way ; 
 A gift that Heaven gives for him. 
 
 (Character. — JVom the French. 
 [AN'S Character is like his Shadow, which sometimes follows, 
 and sometimes precedes him, and which is occasionally longer, 
 occasionally shorter than he is. 
 
 am. 
 
52 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&l)UX attn. — Hare. 
 HTHERE is a glare about worldly success, which is very apt to 
 dazzle men's eyes. When we see a man rising in the world; 
 thriving in business; successful in his speculations; if he be a man 
 out of our own line, who does not come into competition with us, 
 so as to make us jealous of him, we are too apt to form a foolishly 
 high opinion of his merits. We are apt to say within ourselves, 
 "What a wonderful man this must be, to rise so rapidly?" for- 
 getting that dust and straw, and feathers, things with neither weight 
 nor value in them, rise the soonest and the easiest. In like manner, 
 it is not the truly great and good man, generally speaking, who 
 rises the most rapidly into wealth and notice. A man may be 
 sharp, active, quick, dexterous, cunning; he may be ever on the 
 watch for opportunities to push his fortunes; a man of this kind 
 can hardly fail of getting on in the world : yet with all this, he 
 may not have a grain of real Greatness about him. He may be all 
 I have described, and yet have no Greatness of Mind, no Greatness 
 of Soul. He may be utterly without Sympathy and fellow-feeling 
 for others; he may be utterly devoid of all true Wisdom; he may 
 be without Piety and without Charity; without Love, that is, either 
 for God or Man. 
 
 (ft jataCter. — Shakspeare. 
 r FHERE can be no kernel in this light nut; the Soul of this Man 
 is his Clothes. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He has been bred i' the wars 
 Since he could draw a sword, and is ill-school'd 
 In boulted language; meal and bran together 
 He throws without distinction. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 TTO be generous, guiltless, and of free disposition, is to take those 
 things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets. There is 
 no slander in an allowed Fool, though he do nothing but rail: nor 
 no railing in a known Discreet Man, though he do nothing but 
 reprove. 
 
 (ftjjaraCter. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He that trusts you 
 Where he should find you Lions, finds you Hares: 
 Where Foxes, Geese. You are no surer, no, 
 Than is the Coal of Fire upon the Ice, 
 Or Hailstone in the Sun. 
 
 <!lf)aniCtet. — Shakspeare. 
 Best Men are moulded out of Faults. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 53 
 
 (DJjaraCtet. — Bulwer LytUm. 
 ~Y"EVER get a Reputation for a small perfection, if you are trying 
 for fame in a loftier area. The world can only judge by gene- 
 rals, and it sees that those who pay considerable attention to mi- 
 nutiae, seldom have their Minds occupied with great things. There 
 are, it is true, exceptions; but to exceptions the world does not 
 attend. 
 
 Character. — Coiton. 
 
 THE most consistent men are not more unlike to others than they 
 are at times to themselves; therefore, it is ridiculous to see 
 Character-mongers drawing a full-length Likeness of some great 
 man, and perplexing themselves and their readers by making every 
 feature of his Conduct strictly Conform to those lines and linea- 
 ments which they have laid down ; they generally find or make for 
 him some Ruling Passion the rudder of his course; but with all 
 this pother about Ruling Passions, the fact is, that all men and 
 all women have but one apparent Good. Those, indeed, are the 
 strongest Minds, and are capable of the greatest actions, who possess 
 a telescopic power of intellectual vision, enabling them to ascertain 
 the real magnitude and importance of distant goods, and to despise 
 those which are indebted for all their grandeur solely to their 
 contiguity. 
 
 (Character. — Shakspeare, 
 
 THE purest treasure mortal times afford, 
 
 Is — spotless Reputation; that away, 
 Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. 
 A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest 
 Is — a bold Spirit in a loyal Breast. 
 
 (EfjaraCteC. — Franklin. 
 THE most trifling actions that affect a man's Credit are to be re- 
 garded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or 
 nine at night, heard by a Creditor, makes him easy six months 
 longer; but if he sees you at a Billiard table, or hears your voice 
 at a Tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money 
 the next day. 
 
 (Character. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 YV'IIATEVER Disgrace we have merited, it is almost always in 
 our power to re-establish our Reputation. 
 
 (Character. — Shakspeare. 
 T ET me have Men about me that are fat; 
 
 Sleek-headed Men, and such as sleep o' nights : 
 Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look ; 
 He thinks too much : such Men are dangerous. 
 
54- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&t}aXatitt.—-S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 TTOW wonderfully beautiful is the delineation of the Characters 
 of the three Patriarchs in Genesis! To be sure, if ever man 
 could, without impropriety, be called, or supposed to be, " the 
 friend of God," Abraham was that man. We are not surprised 
 that Abimelech and Ephron seem to reverence him so profoundly. 
 He was peaceful, because of his conscious relation to God. 
 
 Character. — Sliahspeare. 
 T OOK, as I blow this feather from my face, 
 
 And as the air blows it to me again, 
 Obeying with my wind when I do blow, 
 And yielding to another when it blows, 
 Commanded always by the greater gust; 
 Such is the Lightness of you Common Men. 
 
 (EfjaraCter. — Shakspeare. 
 In war was never Lion raged so fierce, 
 In peace was never gentle Lamb more mild. 
 
 OnjaraCter. _ Shakspeare. 
 r^J_OOD Name, in man, and woman, 
 
 Is the immediate jewel of their souls. 
 "Who steals my purse, steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 
 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands : 
 But he, that filches from me my Good Name, 
 Robs me of that, which not enriches him, 
 And makes me poor indeed. 
 
 Character. — Pope. 
 
 Q ELF-LOVE thus push'd to social, to divine, 
 
 Gives thee to make thy neighbour's blessing thine 
 Is this too little for the boundless heart ? 
 Extend it, let thy enemies have part. 
 Grasp the whole world of Reason, Life, and Sense, 
 In one close system of benevolence : 
 Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree, 
 And height of Bliss but height of Charity. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 A hungry lean-fac'd Villain, 
 A mere Anatomy, a Mountebank, 
 A thread-bare Juggler, and a Fortune-teller; 
 A needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking Wretch, 
 A living dead Man ; this pernicious Slave, 
 Forsooth, took on him as a Conjurer; 
 And gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, 
 And with no face, as 'twere, out-facing me. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 55 
 
 <£f)aractet. — Shakvpeare. 
 
 In the Reproof of Chance 
 Lies the true Proof of Men. The sea being smooth, 
 How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
 Upon her patient breast, making their way 
 With those of nobler bulk ? 
 But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 
 The gentle Thetis, and anon, behold 
 The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, 
 Bounding between the two moist elements, 
 Like Perseus' horse : Where's then the saucy boat, 
 Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now 
 Co-rivall'd greatness ? Either to harbour fled, 
 Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so 
 Doth Valour's Show, and Valour's Worth, divide, 
 In storms of Fortune : For, in her ray and brightness, 
 The herd hath more annoyance by the brize, 
 Than by the tiger; but when the splitting wind 
 Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, 
 And flies fled under shade, why, then the Thing of Courage, 
 As roused with rage, with rage doth sympathize, 
 And with an accent tuned in self-same key, 
 Returns to chiding Fortune. 
 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 I know him a notorious Liar, 
 Think him a great way Fool, solely a Coward ; 
 Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him, 
 That they take place, when Virtue's steely bones 
 Look bleak in the cold wind : withal, full oft we see 
 Cold Wisdom waiting on superfluous Folly. 
 
 (£f)ataCtet. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He reads much : 
 He is a great Observer, and he looks 
 Quite through the deeds of men : he loves no plays ; 
 He hears no music : 
 
 Seldom he smiles; and smiles in such a sort, 
 As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit 
 That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. 
 Character. — Shakspeare. 
 TTE'S truly valiant, that can wisely suffer 
 -*--*- The worst that man can breathe ; and make his wrongs 
 His outsides; to wear them like his raiment, carelessly ; 
 And ne'er prefer his Injuries to his Heart, 
 To bring it into danger. 
 
56 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 atijatitg.— Pope. 
 
 JN Faith and Hope the world will disagree, 
 But all mankind's concerned in Charity : 
 All must be false that thwart this one great end; 
 And all of God, that bless mankind, or mend. 
 
 (Sjatttg* — Spenser. 
 
 Good is no good but if it be spend : 
 God giveth good for none other end. 
 
 (Efjaritj). — Byron. 
 The drying up a single tear has more 
 Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. 
 
 (tfijarttg.— Pope. 
 
 TS there a variance ? enter but his door, 
 
 Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more. 
 Despairing quacks with curses left the place, 
 And vile attorneys, now a useless race. 
 
 (ftjarttg,— - Cotton. 
 
 T>OSTHUMOUS Charities are the very essence of Selfishness, 
 when bequeathed by those who, when alive, would part with 
 nothing. 
 
 (ftjatttg. — Seneca. 
 A PHYSICIAN is not angry at the intemperance of a mad patient, 
 nor does he take it ill to be railed at by a man in a fever. Just 
 so should a wise man treat all mankind, as a physician does his 
 patient, and look upon them only as -sick and extravagant. 
 
 <£i)arttp. — Shakspeare. 
 Gently to hear, kindly to judge. 
 
 $Jui)ltc <£f)arittes.— Coiton. 
 
 "pUBLIC Charities and benevolent Associations for the gratuitous 
 Relief of every species of Distress, are peculiar to Christianity ; 
 no other system of civil or religious policy has originated them ; 
 they form its highest praise and characteristic feature. 
 
 2Tf)e Charlatan. — Shakspeare. 
 TTE now, forsooth, takes on him to reform 
 
 Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees, 
 That lie too heavy on the Commonwealth : 
 Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep 
 Over his country's wrongs; and, by this Face, 
 This seeming Brow of Justice, did he win 
 
 The hearts of all that he did angle for. 
 
 =JJ 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD.. 57 
 
 (CfjclStttg. — Shakspearc. 
 The Heavens hold firm 
 The walls of thy dear Honour ; keep unshak'd 
 That Temple, thy fair Mind. 
 
 <&%a$tit$. — SaviUe. 
 
 A CLOSE Behaviour is the fittest to receive Virtue for its constant 
 guest, because there, and there only, it can be secure. Proper 
 Reserves are the outworks, and must never be deserted by those who 
 intend to keep the place ; they keep off the possibilities not only of 
 being taken, but of being attempted; and if a woman seeth danger, 
 though at never so remote a distance, she is for that time to shorten 
 her line of liberty. She, who will allow herself to go to the utmost 
 extent of every thing that is lawful, is so very near going further, 
 that those who lie at watch will begin to count upon her. 
 
 (£Ijeerf ulncss. — Pope. 
 
 "IXrHAT then remains, but well our power to use, 
 
 And keep Good Humour still, whate'er we lose ? 
 And trust me, dear Good Humour can prevail, 
 When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail; 
 Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll; 
 Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. 
 
 CCfjCClt UiHCSiS. — Collins. 
 THEN Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, 
 
 W 
 
 Her bow across her shoulders flung, 
 
 Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, 
 
 Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung. 
 
 (Cijeett UlneSS. — Montaigne. 
 The most manifest sign of Wisdom is continued Cheerfulness. 
 
 (CljeeCf UlneSS. — Lord Bolingbrohe. 
 T HAVE observed, that in comedies the best actor plays the droll 
 while some scrub rogue is made the fine gentleman or hero 
 Thus it is in the farce of Life, — wise men spend their time ir 
 Mirth, 'tis only fools who are serious. 
 
 Cheerfulness. —Steele. 
 
 QHEERFULXESS is always to be supported if a man is out of 
 pain, but Mirth to a prudent man should always be accidental. 
 It should naturally arise out of the occasion, and the occasion 
 seldom be laid fur it; for those tempers who want Mirth to be 
 pleased, are like the constitutions which flag without the use of 
 brandy. Therefore, I say, let your precept be, " be easy." That 
 mind is dissolute and ungoverned, which must be hurried out of 
 itself by loud laughter or sensual pleasure, or else be wholly in 
 active. 
 
58 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Cheerfulness. — Coiton. 
 
 rjHEERFULNESS ought to be the viaticum vitse of their life to 
 the old ; age without Cheerfulness, is a Lapland winter without 
 a sun ; and this spirit of Cheerfulness should be encouraged in our 
 youth, if we would wish to have the benefit of it in our old age; 
 time will make a generous wine more mellow; but it will turn 
 that which is early on the fret, to vinegar. 
 
 Cheerfulness. — Seneca. 
 
 npKUE Joy is a serene and sober motion: and they are miserably 
 out, that take Laughing for rejoicing : the seat of it is within, 
 and there is no Cheerfulness like the resolutions of a brave mind. 
 
 (Kljeetf UlneSS. —Horace. 
 r PHE Mind that is cheerful in its present state, will be averse to 
 all solicitude as to the future, and will meet the bitter occur- 
 rences of Life with a placid Smile. 
 
 <ftf)<*tf UlneSS. — Pliny. 
 A S in our lives so also in our studies, it is most becoming and 
 most wise, so to temper Gravity with Cheerfulness, that the 
 former may not imbue our minds with Melancholy, nor the latter 
 degenerate into Licentiousness. 
 
 (Efteetf UlneSS. — Massinger. 
 Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, 
 And 'tis that crowns a welcome. 
 
 (£fjeetfulneSS.— Spenser. 
 A ND her against sweet Cheerfulnesse was placed, 
 
 Whose eyes like twinkling stars in evening cleare, 
 "Were deckt with smyles, and all Sad Humors chased, 
 And darted forth Delights, the which her goodly grae'd. 
 
 (£{)ttltnQ. — Sliahspeare. 
 
 Those, that do teach young babes, 
 Do it with gentle means, and easy tasks ; 
 He might have Chid me so : for, in good faith, 
 I am a child to Chiding. 
 
 Cf)e djlttl. — Byron. 
 ~DUT thou wilt burst this transient sleep, 
 
 And thou wilt wake, my Babe, to weep ; 
 The tenant of a frail abode, 
 Thy tears must flow, as mine have flow'd : 
 Beguil'd by follies every day, 
 Sorrow must wash the faults away, 
 And thou rnay'st wake perchance to prove 
 The pang of unrequited love. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 59 
 
 <Ef)C ftjiftL — Byron. 
 
 C WEET be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea, 
 And from the mountains where I now respire, 
 Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee, 
 As, with a sigh, I deem thou might' st have been to me ! 
 
 Cj)e (£f)tft(. — Campbell 
 T ! at the couch where Infant Beauty sleeps, 
 
 Her silent watch the mournful Mother .keeps : 
 She, while the lovely Babe unconscious lies, 
 Smiles on her slumbering Child with pensive eyes, 
 And weaves a song of melancholy joy — 
 " Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy : 
 No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine; 
 No sigh that rends thy Father's heart and mine ; 
 Bright as his manly Sire the Son shall be 
 In form and soul ; but, ah ! more blessed than he ! 
 Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last, 
 Shall soothe this aching heart for all the past — 
 With many a smile my solitude repay, 
 And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away." 
 
 CfjC (CljtltJ. — Rogers. 
 THE hour arrives, the moment wish'd and fear'd ; 
 
 The Child is born, by many a pang endear'd. 
 And now the Mother's ear has caught his cry; 
 Oh grant the Cherub to her asking eye ! 
 He comes . . . she clasps him. To her bosom press'd, 
 He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest. 
 
 Z\)Z (&\)i[b. — Rogers. 
 Then, gathering round his bed, they climb to share 
 His kisses, and with gentle violence there, 
 Break in upon a dream not half so fair. 
 
 Cfje (Efjittr. — ifynm. 
 
 TO aid thy Mind's Developments, — to watch 
 
 Thy Dawn of little Joys, — to sit and see 
 Almost thy very Growth, — to view thee catch 
 
 Knowledge of objects, — wonders yet to thee ! 
 
 To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee, 
 And print on thy soft cheek a Parent's kiss; — 
 
 This, it should seem, was not reserved for me ! 
 Yet this was in my nature : — as it is, 
 I know not what is there, yet something like to this. 
 
60 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH 
 
 <£f)tttlf)00tJ. — Bishop Erie. 
 A CHILD is man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam, 
 before he tasted of Eve or the apple; and he is happy whose 
 small practice in the world can only write his character. His soul 
 is yet a white paper unscribbled with observations of the world, 
 wherewith, at length, it becomes a blurred note-book. He is purely 
 happy, because he knows no evil, nor hath made means by sin to 
 be acquainted with misery. He arrives not at the mischief of being 
 wise, nor endures evils to come, by foreseeing them. He kisses 
 and loves all, and, when the smart of the rod is past, smiles on his 
 beater. The elder he grows, he is a stair lower from God. He is 
 the Christian's example, and the old man's relapse; the one imi- 
 tates his pureness, and the other falls into his simplicity. Could 
 he put off his body with his little coat, he had got eternity without 
 a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for another. 
 
 (£f)tttfrm— Byron. 
 VET a fine Family is a fine thing 
 
 (Provided they don't come in after dinner;) 
 'Tis beautiful to see a Matron bring 
 
 Her Children up, (if nursing them don't thin her.) 
 
 (EfyiltiUn. — Byron. 
 
 He smiles, and sleeps ! — sleep on 
 And smile, thou little, young Inheritor 
 Of a world scarce less young: sleep on, and smile! 
 Thine are the hours and days when both are cheering 
 And innocent ! 
 
 (StyXUXtXl. — Thomson. 
 T OOK here and weep with tenderness and transport 
 
 What is all tasteless luxury to this? 
 To these best joys, which holy Love bestows? 
 Oh Nature, parent Nature, thou alone 
 Art the true judge of what can make us happy. 
 
 <&§iVbUn. — GrevUle. 
 T HARDLY know so melancholy a reflection, as that Parents are 
 necessarily the sole directors of the management of Children ; 
 whether they have, or have not, judgment, penetration, or taste, to 
 perform the task. 
 
 <£f) tlfcCCn. — Cicero. 
 Yy HAT gift has Providence bestowed on Man, that is so dear to 
 
 him as his Children ? 
 
OR, TEIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 6! 
 
 QfyiXHXm. — Byrvn. 
 
 T OOK! how he lauglis and stretches out his arms, 
 
 And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine, 
 To hail bis Father: while his little form 
 Flutters as wing'd with joy. Talk not of pain! 
 The childless cherubs well might envy thee 
 The pleasures of a Parent ! Bless him ! 
 As yet he hath no words to thank thee, but 
 His heart will, and thine own too. 
 
 (Cfjtttiart.— Oehlenschlager. 
 THE plays of natural lively Children are the infancy of art. 
 Children live in the world of imagination and feeling. They 
 invest the most insignificant object with any form they please, and 
 see in it whatever they wish to see. 
 
 (CJjtltlten. — Thomson. 
 "YfEANTDIE a smiling Offspring rises round, 
 
 And mingles both their graces. By degrees, 
 The Human Blossom blows; and every day, 
 Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm. 
 
 (CljOtCC Of Elfe. — Cicero. 
 
 THE number is small of those persons, who, either by extraor- 
 dinary pre-eminence of genius, or by superior erudition and 
 knowledge, or who, endowed with either of these, have enjoyed the 
 privilege of deliberately deciding what Mode of Life they would the 
 most wish to embrace. 
 
 2Tf)e (Efytilctit. — Fuller. 
 THOSE Passionate Persons who carry their heart in their mouth 
 are rather to be pitied than feared; their threatenings serving 
 qo other purpose than to forearm him that is threatened. 
 
 £i)ti$tianitv. — A?wn. 
 
 THERE is only one way in which Philosophy can truly become 
 popular, that which Socrates tried, and which centuries after 
 was perfected in the Gospel, — that which tells men of their Divine 
 Origin and Destiny, of their Heavenly Duties and Calling. This 
 comes home to men's hearts and bosoms, and, instead of puffing 
 them up, humbles them. But to be efficient, this should flow down 
 straight from a higher sphere. Even in its Socratic form, it was 
 supported by those higher principles, which we find set forth with 
 such power and beauty by Plato. In Christian Philosophy, on the 
 other hand, the ladder has come down from heaven, and the angels 
 are continually descending and ascending along it. 
 
62 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <Et)XiStianit)}.— Channing. 
 CJINCE its introduction, human nature has made great progress, 
 and society experienced great changes; and in this advanced 
 condition of the world, Christianity, instead of losing its applica- 
 tion and importance, is found to be more and more congenial and 
 adapted to man's nature and wants. Men have outgrown the other 
 institutions of that period when Christianity appeared, its philoso- 
 phy, its modes of warfare, its policy, its public and private economy; 
 but Christianity has never shrunk as intellect has opened, but has 
 always kept in advance of men's faculties, and unfolded nobler 
 views in proportion as they have ascended. The highest powers 
 and affections which our nature has developed, find more than ade- 
 quate objects in this religion. Christianity is indeed peculiarly 
 fitted to the more improved stages of society, to the more delicate 
 sensibilities of refined minds, and especially to that dissatisfaction 
 with the present state, which always grows with the growth of our 
 moral powers and affections. 
 
 <&f)Urd). — Burns. 
 TTERE some are thinkin' on their sins, 
 
 An' some upo' their claes; 
 Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins, 
 
 Anither sighs an' prays : 
 On this hand sits a chosen swatch, 
 
 Wi' screw' d-up, grace-proud faces; 
 On that, a set o' chaps, at watch, 
 Thrang winkin' on the lasses. 
 
 Cfje (£ttt?Ctt- — Cowper. 
 SUBURBAN villas, highway-side retreats, 
 
 That dread th' encroachment of our growing streets, 
 Tight boxes, neatly sash'd, and in a blaze 
 "With all a July sun's collected rays, 
 Delight the citizen, who gasping there 
 Breathes clouds of dust, and calls it country air. 
 
 2Tf)e (£iti}tn.— Churchill. 
 C\R at some Banker's desk, like many more, 
 
 Content to tell that two and two make four, 
 His name had stood in City annals fair, 
 And prudent dulness mark'd him for a Mayor. 
 
 (fttbtlttg. _ Chesterfield. 
 'THE insolent Civility of a proud man is, if pcssible, more shock- 
 ing than his Rudeness could be; because he shows you, by his 
 Manner, that he thinks it mere Condescension in him; a.nd that 
 his goodness alone bestows upon you what you have no pretence to 
 
 claim. 
 
OR, TIIIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 63 
 
 (Ttbtlttp. —TiUotson. 
 A GOOD "Word is an easy Obligation j but not to speak ill, re- 
 quires only our silence, which costs us nothing. 
 
 <£tbtlt?at(0n.— Burke. 
 T\ r F are but too apt to consider things in the state in which we 
 find them, without sufficiently adverting to the causes by 
 which they have been produced, and possibly may be upheld. 
 Nothing is more certain than that our Manners, our Civilization, 
 and all the good things which are connected with Civilization, 
 have, in this European world of ours, depended for ages upon two 
 principles; and were indeed the result of both combined; I mean 
 the spirit of a Gentleman and the spirit of Religion. The Nobility 
 and the Clergy, the one by profession, the other by patronage, kept 
 learning in existence even in the midst of arms and confusion, and 
 whilst governments were rather in their causes than formed. Learn- 
 ing paid back what it received to Nobility and Priesthood, and paid 
 it with usury, by enlarging their ideas and by furnishing their minds. 
 
 (£Mlv } atim\. — Anon. 
 
 TN the Bible the Body is said to be more than Raiment. But 
 many people still read the Bible Hebrew-wise, backward : and 
 thus the general conviction now is that Raiment is more than the 
 Body. There is so much to gaze and stare at in the Dress, one's 
 eyes are quite dazzled and weary, and can hardly pierce through to 
 that which is clothed upon. So too is it with the mind and heart, 
 scarcely less than with the body. 
 
 (fttbtlijattoll.— Bare. 
 
 The ultimate tendency of Civilization, is toward Barbarism. 
 
 ©ibtlt?atum.— Coiton. 
 
 A LL nations that have reached the highest point of Civilization, 
 may from that hour assume for their motto, viderl quam 
 esse. And whenever and wherever we see Ostentation substituted 
 for Happiness, Profession for Friendship, Formality for Religion, 
 Pedantry for Learning, BufFoonry for Wit, Artifice for Nature, and 
 Hypocrisy for every thing ; these are the signs of the times which 
 he that runs may read, and which will enable the Philosopher to 
 date the commencement of National Decay, from the consummation 
 of National Refinement. 
 
 (Etbtlt^attOtt.— Sore. 
 
 QHRTSTIANITY has carried Civilization along with it, whither- 
 soever it has gone : and, ns if to show that the latter does not 
 end on physical causes, some of the countries the most civilized 
 
 in the days of Augustus are now in a state of hopeless Barbarism. 
 
(U ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (£MU}atwn. — Coiton. 
 
 ^SEMI-CIVILIZED state of Society, equally removed from the 
 extremes of Barbarity and of Refinement, seems to be that par- 
 ticular meridian under which all the reciprocities and gratuities of 
 hospitality do most really flourish and abound. For it so happens 
 that the ease, the luxury, and the abundance of the highest state 
 of Civilization, are as productive of selfishness, as the difficulties, 
 the privations, and the sterilities of the lowest. 
 
 (Classical Studies. — story. 
 
 FT is no exaggeration to declare that he who proposes to abolish 
 classical studies proposes to render, in a great measure, inert 
 and unedifying the mass of English literature for three centuries; 
 to rob us of the glory of the past, and much of the instruction of 
 future ages; to blind us to excellences which few may hope to 
 equal and none to surpass; to annihilate associations which are 
 interwoven withour best sentiments, and give to distant times and 
 countries a presence and reality as if they were in fact his own. 
 
 (ftleaitlmegS. — Thomson. 
 Even from the Body's Purity, the Mind 
 Receives a secret sympathetic aid. 
 
 (Climate. — Sir W. Temple. 
 OUR Country must be confessed to be, what a great foreign 
 physician called it, the region of* spleen; which may arise a 
 good deal from the great uncertainty and many sudden changes of 
 our weather in all seasons of the year : and how much these affect 
 the heads and hearts, especially of the finest tempers, is hard to be 
 believed by men whose thoughts are not turned to such specula- 
 tions. 
 
 <E*lttttat0* — Justus Moser. 
 npHE institutions of a Country depend in great measure on the 
 Nature of its Soil and Situation. Many of the wants of man 
 are awakened or supplied by these circumstances. To these wants, 
 manners, laws, and religion must shape and accommodate themselves. 
 The division of Land, and the rights attached to it, alter with the 
 Soil; the laws, relating to its Produce, with its Fertility. The man- 
 ners of its inhabitants are in various ways modified by its Position. 
 The religion of a miner is not the same as the faith of a shepherd, 
 nor is the character of the ploughman so warlike as that of the 
 hunter. The observant legislator follows the direction of all these 
 various circumstances. The knowledge of the Natural Advantages 
 or Defects of a Country thus form an essential part of political 
 science and history. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 65 
 
 (£luu (goSStp..— Shakspeare. 
 HTHEY'LL sit by the fire, and presume to know 
 
 What's done i' the Capitol : who's like to rise, 
 "Who thrives, and who declines; side factions, and give out 
 Conjectural marriages; making parties strong, 
 And feebling such as stand not in their liking. 
 
 <E0 mm enfcatiOlt. — Fielding. 
 QOMMEND a Fool for his Wit, or a Knave for his Honesty, 
 and they will receive you into their bosom. 
 
 (Commerce. — Addison. 
 A WELL-REGULATED Commerce is not, like law, physic, 01 
 divinity, to be over-stocked with hands; but, on the contrary, 
 flourishes by multitudes, and gives employment to all its professors. 
 
 (Commerce.— Anon. 
 
 A STATESMAN may do much for Commerce, most by leaving 
 it alone. A river never flows so smoothly, as when it follows 
 its own course, without either aid or check. Let it make its own 
 bed : it will do so better than you can. 
 
 2H)e <£omct. — Thomson. 
 T ! from the dread immensity of space 
 
 Returning, with accelerated course, 
 The rushing Comet to the sun descends: 
 And as he sinks below the shading earth, 
 AVith awful train projected o'er the heavens, 
 The guilty nations tremble. 
 
 <ftompantonsf)tp.— GrevUk. 
 
 OUR Companions please us less from the charms we find in their 
 conversation, than from those they find in ours. 
 
 (ftomparttOnSfnp. — Lessing. 
 r pHE most agreeable of all Companions is a simple, frank man, 
 without any high pretensions to an oppressive greatness : one 
 who loves life, and understands the use of it; obliging, alike at 
 all hours; above all, of a golden temper, and steadfast as an anchor. 
 For such an one we gladly exchange the greatest genius, the 
 most brilliant wit, the profoundest thinker. 
 
 OTompanj). — Chesterfield. 
 j\"0 man can possibly improve in any Company, for which he has 
 not respect enough to be under some degree of restraint. 
 
 (ftOmpattg, — Lavater. 
 
 f J^HE freer you feel yourself in the presence of another, the more 
 free is he. 
 
W ILLUSTRATION'S OF TRUTH; 
 
 atompang. — Chesterfield. 
 THAKE, rather than give, the tone of the Company you are in 
 If you have parts, you will show them, more or less, upon 
 every subject; and if you have not, you had better talk sillily upon 
 a subject of other people's than your own choosing. 
 
 (ftmttpattg,— Bmft. 
 
 "^"ATURE has left every man a capacity of being agreeable, though 
 not of shining in Company; and there are a hundred men 
 sufficiently qualified for both who, by a very few faults, that they 
 might correct in half an hour, are not so much as tolerable. 
 
 (EompariSim. — Skakspeare. 
 \\n3EN the Moon shone, we did not see the Candle. 
 
 So doth the greater glory dim the less ; 
 A Substitute shines brightly as a King, 
 Until a King be by; and then his state 
 Empties itself, as doth an inland Brook 
 Into the Main of Waters. 
 
 (&omyaxmn.— Johnson. 
 
 HTHE Superiority of some men is merely local. They are great, 
 because their associates are little. 
 
 (ftompariSOnS. —Addison. 
 NOTWITHSTANDING- man's essential Perfection is but very 
 little, his comparative Perfection may be very considerable. 
 If he looks upon himself in an abstracted light, he has not much to 
 boast of; but if he considers himself with regard to others, he may 
 find occasion of glorying, if not in his own Virtues, at least in the 
 absence of another's Imperfections. This gives a different turn to 
 the reflections of the Wise man and the Fool. The first endeavours 
 to shine in himself, and the last to outshine others. The first is 
 humbled by the sense of his own infirmities, the last is lifted up by 
 the discovery of those which he observes in other men. The Wiss 
 Man considers what he wants, aud the Fool what he abounds in. 
 The Wise man is happy when he gains his own approbation, and 
 the Fool when he recommends himself to the applause of those 
 about hiui. 
 
 C£omplatnmg. — Skakspeare. 
 I WILL chide no breather in the world, but myself; against whom 
 I know most faults. 
 
 (Compliments. — Chesterfield. 
 (COMPLIMENTS of Congratulation are always kindly taken, and 
 cost one nothing but pen, ink, and paper. I consider them as 
 draughts upon Good Breeding, where the exchange is always 
 greatly in favour of the drawer. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 67 
 
 {Composition* — Cotton. 
 
 'THE great cause of that delight we receive from a fine Compo- 
 sition, whether it be in Prose or in Yerse, I conceive to be 
 this : the marvellous and magic power it confers upon the reader ; 
 enabling an inferior mind at one glance, and almost without an ef- 
 fort, to seize, to embrace, and to enjoy those remote Combinations 
 of Wit, melting Harmonies of Sound, and vigorous Condensations 
 of Sense, that cost a superior mind so much perseverance, labour, 
 and time. 
 
 (COttCCit. — Cotton. 
 "^"ONE are so seldom found alone, and are so soon tired of their 
 own company, as those Coxcombs who are on the best terms 
 with themselves. 
 
 (Conceit — Pope. 
 f^ONCEIT is to nature what paint is to beauty ; it is not only 
 needless, but impairs what it would improve. 
 
 (Conceit. — Sliakspeare. 
 Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. 
 
 (Conciliation Cicero. 
 
 TT is the part of a prudent man to conciliate the minds of others ; 
 and to turn them to his own advantage. 
 
 (ContJUCt. — Shakspcare. 
 
 GlVE every man thine ear, but few thy voice : 
 Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 
 
 {Contmct. — Shakspeare. 
 F)EFECT of Manners, want of Government, 
 
 Pride, Haughtiness, Opinion, and Disdain : 
 The least of which, 
 
 Loseth men's hearts j and leaves behind a stain 
 Upon the beauty of all parts besides, 
 Beguiling them of commendation. 
 
 {Conduct. — Greville. 
 JT is not enough that you form, nay, and follow, the most ex 
 cellent Rules for Conducting yourself in the world ; you must also 
 know when to deviate from them, and where lies the exception. 
 
 (ContJUCt. — Clarendon. 
 JF we do not weigh and consider to what end this life is given us, 
 and thereupon order and dispose it right, pretend what we will 
 to the arithmetic, we do not, we cannot, so much as number our 
 days in they narrowest and most limited signification. 
 
 G 
 
68 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Conflict — Shakspeare. 
 PTAVE more than thou showest, 
 Speak less than thou knowest, 
 Lend less than thou owest, 
 Learn more than thou trowest, 
 Set less than than thou throwest. 
 
 (KcmftUCt — Epidetus. 
 rjPON every fresh accident, turn your eyes inward and examine 
 how your are qualified to encounter it. If you see any very 
 beautiful person, you will find Continence to oppose against the 
 temptation. If labour and difficulty come in your way, you will 
 find a remedy in Hardiness and Resolution. If you lie under the 
 obloquy of an ill tongue, Patience and Meekness are the proper 
 fences against it. 
 
 (ftOttfMCt. — Shakspeare. 
 Things ill got had ever bad success. 
 
 (ftOTttmct — Seneca. 
 I" WILL govern my life, and my thoughts, as if the whole world 
 were to see the one, and to read the other j for what does it 
 signify, to make any thing a secret to my neighbour, when to God 
 (who is the searcher of our hearts) all our privacies are open ? 
 
 (ftmrtJUCt— Fuller. 
 
 A LL tbe while thou livest ill, thou hast the trouble, distraction, 
 inconveniences of life, but not the sweets and true use of it. 
 
 (ftOUfcltCt. —Epidetus. 
 A S in walking it is your great care not to run } T our foot upon a 
 nail, or to tread awry, and strain your leg; so let it be in all the 
 Affairs of Human Life, not to hurt your Mind, or offend your Judg- 
 ment. And this rule, if observed carefully in all your deportment, 
 will be a mighty security to you in your undertakings. 
 
 GtontJUCt. — Shakspeare. 
 (~)BEY thy parents, keep thy word justly; swear not; commit 
 not with man's sworn spouse; set not thy sweet heart on proud 
 array. . . . Keep thy foot out of brothels, thy pen from lenders' 
 books. 
 
 (ftontntCt. — Joanna Baillie. 
 [ WOULD, God knows, in a poor woodman's hut 
 
 Have spent my peaceful days, and shared my crust 
 With her who would have cheer'd me, rather far 
 Than on this throne ; but being what I am, 
 I'll be it nobly. 
 
R, THIXG S NE W AND OLD. 69 
 
 (Conduct —Joanna BailUe. 
 T TAKE of worthy men whate'er they give : 
 
 Their Heart I gladly take, if not their Hand ) 
 If that too is withheld, a courteous Word, 
 Or the Civility of placid Looks. 
 
 (EcnfcUCt. —Pope. 
 TirHEX we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring 
 something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow 
 old ; and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we 
 proposed. 
 
 (TorrtJUCt. — Coicper. 
 
 Disgust conceal'd 
 Is oft-times proof of Wisdom, when the fault 
 Is obstinate, and cure beyond our reach. 
 
 (TontJUCt. — Shakspcare. 
 Self-love is not so vile a sin 
 As self-neglecting. 
 
 (EontlUCt.— Byron. 
 
 To what gulphs 
 A single deviation from the track 
 Of Human Duties leads even those who claim 
 The homage of mankind as their born due, 
 And find it, till they forfeit it themselves ! 
 
 (ConTmrt. — Cowper. 
 
 TTE that negotiates between God and Man, 
 
 As God's Ambassador, the grand concerns 
 Of Judgment and of Mercy, should beware 
 Of lightness in his speech. ; Tis pitiful 
 To court a grin, when you should woo a soul; 
 To break a jest, when pity would inspire 
 Pathetic exhortation ; and address 
 The skittish fancy with facetious tales, 
 When sent with God's commission to the heart ! 
 
 (Coirtmrt. —Joanna Baillie. 
 nrO whom do lions cast their gentle looks? 
 
 Not to the beast that would usurp their den. 
 Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? 
 Not his that spoils her young before her face. 
 Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? 
 Not he that sets his foot upon her back. 
 The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on ; 
 And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood. 
 
70 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (ContJUCt. — Milton. 
 
 Only add 
 Deeds to thy Knowledge answerable, add Faith, 
 Add Virtue, Patience, Temperance, add Love, 
 By name to come call'd Charity, the soul 
 Of all the rest : then wilt thou not be loath 
 To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
 A Paradise within thee, happier far. 
 
 (COttOUCt. — Milton. 
 
 Son of Heav'n and Earth, 
 Attend : that tnou art happy, owe to God ; 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, 
 That is, to thy Obedience ; therein stand. 
 
 (Confession.— Pope. 
 
 A MAN should never be ashamed to own he has been in the 
 wrong, which is but saying in other words, that he is wiser 
 to-day than he was yesterday. 
 
 (Confidence. — Shakspeare. 
 Trust not him that hath once broken Faith. 
 
 (Confidence. — Cotton. 
 
 ""WHEN young, we trust ourselves too much, and we trust others 
 too little when old. Rashness is the error of Youth, timid 
 caution of Age. Manhood is the isthmus between the two ex- 
 tremes ; the ripe and fertile season of Action, when alone we can 
 hope to find the head to contrive, united with the hand to execute. 
 
 (Confidence. — Lavater. 
 TRUST him little who praises all, him less who censures all, and 
 him least who is indifferent about all. 
 
 (&f}Tt8titrtCt.— Addison. 
 
 A MAN'S first care should be to avoid the reproaches of his own 
 Heart; his next, to escape the censures of the World. If the 
 last interferes with the former, it ought to be entirely neglected ; 
 but otherwise there cannot be a greater satisfaction to an honest 
 mind, than to see those approbations which it gives itself seconded 
 by the applauses of the public. 
 
 (Conscience. — Coiton. 
 
 TATE should have all our communications with men, as in the 
 presence of God ; and with God, as in the presence of men. 
 
 (Conscience. — Coiton. 
 
 T^HE Breast of a good man is a little heaven commencing on earth; 
 
 where the Deity sits enthroned with unrivalled influence, every 
 
 subjugated passion, " like the wind and storm, fulfilling his word/'' 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 71 
 
 Conscience. — .ra^. 
 
 HTHE most reckless Sinner against his own Conscience has always 
 in the background the consolation, that he will go on in this 
 course only this time, or only so long, but that at such a time he 
 will amend. We may be assured that we do not stand clear with 
 our own Consciences, so long as we determine, or project, or even 
 hold it possible, at some future time to alter our course of action. 
 
 Conscience. — South. 
 
 A PALSY may as well shake an oak, or a fever dry up a fountain, 
 as either of them shake, dry up, or impair the delight of Con- 
 science. For it lies within, it centres in the heart, it grows into 
 the very substance of the soul, so that it accompanies a man to his 
 grave ; he never outlives it, and that for this cause only, because 
 he cannot outlive himself. 
 
 Conscience. —Horace. 
 
 ~^OT even for an hour can you bear to be alone, nor can you 
 advantageously apply your leisure time, but you endeavour, a 
 fugitive and wanderer, to escape from yourself, now vainly seeking 
 to banish Remorse by wine, and now b} T sleep; but the gloomy 
 companion presses on you, and pursues you as you fly. 
 
 Conscience. — Shdkspeare. 
 Unnatural deeds 
 Do breed unnatural troubles : Infected minds 
 To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. 
 
 Conscience. — South. 
 
 ]V"0 man ever offended his own Conscience, but first or last it was 
 ^ revenged upon him for it. 
 
 Conscience. — Shdkspeare. 
 QONSCIENCE, it makes a man a coward; a man cannot steal, but 
 it accuseth him ; a man cannot swear, but it checks him ; a man 
 cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him. 
 
 Conscience.— Fuller. 
 
 TF thou wouldst be informed what God has written concerning thee 
 in Heaven, look into thine own Bosom, and see what graces he 
 hath there wrought in thee. 
 
 Conscience. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 (^JAN any thing be more dreadful than the Thought, that an in- 
 nocent child has inherited from you a disease, or a weakness, 
 the penalty in yourself of sin, or want of caution ? 
 
 Conscience. — Fuller. 
 
 A GUILTY Conscience is like a whirlpool, drawing in all to itself 
 which would otherwise pass by. 
 g2 
 
72 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Conscience* — Shakspeare. 
 \\THO would bear the whips and scorns of Time, 
 
 The Oppressor's wrong, the Proud Man's contumely, 
 The pangs of despised Love, the Law's delay, 
 The insolence of Office, and the spurns 
 That patient Merit of the unworthy takes, 
 When he himself might his quietus make 
 With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, 
 To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; 
 But that the dread of something after death, — 
 The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns, — puzzles the will; 
 And makes us rather bear those ills we have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of? 
 Thus Conscience doth make cowards of us all ; 
 And thus the native hue of Resolution 
 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of Thought; 
 And enterprises of great pith and moment, 
 With this regard, their currents turn awry, 
 And lose the name of Action. 
 
 Conscience, — Mason. 
 
 'Tis ever thus 
 With noble minds, if chance they slide to folly ; 
 Remorse stings deeper, and relentless Conscience, 
 Pours more of gall into the bitter cup 
 Of their severe Repentance. 
 
 Conscience. — Shakspeare. 
 'TRY what Repentance can. What can it not? 
 
 Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ? 
 O wretched state ! bosom, black as death ! 
 limed soul, that, struggling to be free, 
 Art more engaged ! 
 
 Conscience. — Coiton. 
 
 TO be satisfied with the Acquittal of the World, though accom- 
 panied with the secret Condemnation of Conscience, this is the 
 mark of a little mind ; but it requires a soul of no common stamp 
 to be satisfied with its own Acquittal, and to despise the Condemna- 
 tion of the World. 
 
 <£tmmtVltt. — Shakspeare. 
 T^THAT stronger breast-plate than a Heart untainted? 
 
 Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just; 
 And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, 
 Whose Conscience with Injustice is corrupted. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 73 
 
 <&Q1l8timtt.— Dryden. 
 
 Here, here it lies : a lump of lead by day ; 
 And in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, 
 The hag that rides my dreams. 
 
 (Conscience. — Steele. 
 r FHE "World will never be in any manner of order or tranquillity, 
 until men are firmly convinced, that Conscience, Honour, and 
 Credit are all in one interest ; and that without the concurrence 
 of the former, the latter are but impositions upon ourselves and 
 others. 
 
 (Conscience.— Milton. 
 
 TTE that has light within his own clear Breast, 
 May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : 
 But he that hides a dark Soul, and foul Thoughts, 
 Benighted walks under the mid-day sun : 
 Himself is his own dungeon. 
 
 (Conscience. — Young. 
 rjONSCIENCE, what art thou? thou tremendous power! 
 
 Who dost inhabit us without our leave; 
 And art within ourselves, another self, 
 A master-self, that loves to domineer, 
 And treat the monarch frankly as the slave : 
 How dost thou light a torch to distant deeds ? 
 Make the past, present, and the future frown ? 
 How, ever and anon, awake the soul, 
 As with a peal of thunder, to strange horrors, 
 In this long restless dream, which idiots hug, 
 Nay, wise men flatter with the name of life. 
 
 (Conscience. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very Soul ; 
 And there I see such black and grained spots, 
 As will not leave their tinct. 
 
 (Conscience. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Better be with the dead, 
 "Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, 
 Than on the Torture of the Mind to lie 
 In restless ecstasy. 
 
 (Conscience. — Cmbbe. 
 
 QH ! Conscience ! Conscience ! Man's most faithful friend, 
 
 Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend : 
 But if he will thy friendly checks forego, 
 Thou art, oh ! wo for me, his deadliest foe ! 
 
74 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (KonSCtntCC. — Byron. 
 
 Horror and doubt distract 
 His troubled Thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 The Hell within him ; for within him Hell 
 He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell 
 One step no more than from himself can fly 
 By change of place. 
 
 (EfmXtitntZ. — Byron. 
 Y^T still there whispers the Small Voice within, 
 
 Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din 
 Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, 
 Man's Conscience is the oracle of God ! 
 
 (&$mtizmt. — Byron. 
 HPHE Mind, that broods o'er guilty woes, 
 
 Is like the scorpion girt by fire, 
 In circle narrowing as it glows, 
 The flames around their captive close, 
 Till inly search'd by thousand throes, 
 
 And maddening in her ire, 
 One and sole relief she knows : 
 The sting she nourish'd for her foes, 
 Whose venom never yet was vain, 
 Gives but one pang, and cures all pain, 
 And darts into her desperate brain. 
 So do the dark in Soul expire, 
 Or live like scorpion girt by fire ; 
 So writhes the Mind Remorse hath riven, 
 Unfit for earth, undoom'd for Heaven, 
 Darkness above, despair beneath, 
 Around it flame, within it death ! 
 
 <£cn0CtenCC. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I feel within me 
 A peace above all earthly dignities, 
 A still and quiet Conscience. 
 
 (£0n!5CtenCC. — Shakspeare. 
 My Conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
 And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
 And every tale condemns me for a Villain. 
 
 (Conscience. — Byron. 
 
 There is no future pang 
 Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd 
 He deals on his own soul. 
 
OR, %HINGS NEW AND OLD. 75 
 
 (CcmSCtCIUSttCSS. — Bruyere. 
 T'O feel tbe want of reason is next to having it; an idiot is not 
 capable of this sensation. The best thing next to wit is a Con- 
 sciousness that it is not in us; without wit, a man might then 
 know how to behave himself, so as not to appear to be a fool or a 
 coxcomb. 
 
 (ConScqitCnCCS. — Cotton. 
 
 A S the dimensions of the tree are not always regulated by the 
 size of the seed, so the Consequences of things are not always 
 proportionate to the apparent magnitude of those events that have 
 produced them. Thus, the American Revolution, from which little 
 was expected, produced much; but the French Revolution, from 
 which much was expected, produced little. 
 
 (Consolation. — Rousseau. 
 (CONSOLATION indiscreetly pressed upon us, when we are suffer- 
 ing under affliction, only serves to increase our pain, and to 
 render our grief more poignant. 
 
 (Conspttaq). — Shakspeare. 
 Conspiracy ! 
 Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, 
 When evils are most free ? 0, then, by day, 
 Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 
 To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, Conspiracy; 
 Hide it in smiles and affability. 
 
 (Contemplation.— Burnet. 
 
 HTHERE is no lasting pleasure but Contemplation; all others 
 grow flat and insipid upon frequent use; and when a man hath 
 run through a set of vanities, in the declension of his age, he 
 knows not what to do with himself, if he cannot think : he saunters 
 about from one dull business to another, to wear out time; and 
 hath no reason to value Life but because he is afraid of Death. 
 
 (Contempt. — 8hakspeare. 
 
 MAJESTY might never yet endure 
 The moody frontier of a servant brow. 
 
 (Contempt.— Byron. 
 
 Pardon is for men, 
 And not for reptiles — we have none for Steno, 
 And no resentment; things like him must sting, 
 And higher beings suffer: 'tis the charter 
 Of life. The man who dies by the adder's fang 
 May have the crawler crush'd, but feels no anger: 
 'Twas the worm's nature; and some men are worms 
 In soul more than the living things of tombs. 
 
76 ILLUSTRATIOXS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Contempt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 "What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, 
 For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, 
 When he might spurn him with his foot away? 
 
 (Contempt. — Chesterfield. 
 TT is very often more necessary to conceal Contempt than Resent- 
 ment, the former being never forgiven, but the latter sometimes 
 forgot. 
 
 (Contempt. — Massing*-. 
 
 The Prince that pardons 
 The first affront offer'd to Majesty, 
 Invites a second, rendering that power, 
 Subjects should tremble at, contemptible. 
 Ingratitude is a monster, 
 To be strangled in the birth. 
 
 (Content. — Spenser. 
 TT is the Mynd that maketh good or ill, 
 
 That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore ; 
 For some, that hath abundance at his will, 
 Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store ; 
 And other, that hath little, asks no more, 
 But in that little is both rich and wise ; 
 For Wisdome is most riches ; Fooles therefore 
 They are which Fortune's doe by vowes devize, 
 Sith each unto himself his life may fortunize. 
 
 (Content. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Best State, contentless 
 Hath a distracted and most wretched being, 
 Worse than the worse, Content. 
 
 (Content. — Shakspeare. 
 He that commends me to mine own Content, 
 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 
 
 (Content. — Shakspeare. 
 
 "AfY Crown is in my Heart, not on my Head; 
 
 Xot deck'd with diamonds and Indian stones, 
 2s or to be seen : my Crown is called Content; 
 A Crown it is that seldom Kings enjoy. 
 
 Content. —Shakspeare. 
 Poor, and Content, is rich and rich enough; 
 But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, 
 To him that ever fears he shall be poor. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 77 
 
 (Content. — Mrs. Sigourney. 
 THINK'ST thou the man whose mansions hold 
 The worldling's pomp and miser's gold, 
 Obtains a richer prize 
 Than he who, in his cot at rest, 
 Finds heavenly peace a willing guest, 
 And bears the promise in his breast 
 Of treasure in the skies? 
 
 (Contentment. — Tucker. 
 HTHE Point of Aim for our Vigilance to hold in view, is to dwell 
 upon the brightest parts in every prospect, to call off the 
 Thoughts when running upon disagreeable Objects, and strive to 
 be pleased with the present circumstances surrounding us. 
 
 (Contentment.— Cotton. 
 
 T'HERE can be no doubt that the seat of perfect Contentment is 
 in the Head ; for every individual is thoroughly satisfied with 
 his own proportion of Brains. Socrates was so well aware of this, 
 that he would not start as a Teacher of Truth, but. as an Inquirer 
 after it. As a teacher, he would have had many disputers, but no 
 disciples : he therefore adopted the humbler mode of investigation, 
 and instilled his knowledge into others, under the mask of seeking 
 information from them. 
 
 Contentment.— Crevitte. 
 
 "\VITHOUT Content, we shall find it almost as difficult to please 
 others as ourselves. 
 
 (Conttgut'tl?. — GremUe. 
 "IV TEN and Statues that are admired in an elevated Situation, have 
 a very different effect upon us when we approach them : the 
 first appear less than we imagined them, the last bigger. 
 
 (ContttJUttj). — Cotton. 
 CPEAKINGr generally, no man appears great to his Contempo- 
 raries, for the same reason that no man is great to his Servants 
 — both know too much of him. 
 
 Self (Control. — Cato. 
 
 T THIXK the first Virtue is to restrain the Tongue : he approaches 
 nearest to the Gods, who knows how to be silent, even though 
 he is in the right. 
 
 Self (Control — Shalcspeare. 
 Better conquest never can'st thou make, 
 Than arm thy constant and thy nobler Parts 
 Against giddy, loose Suggestions. 
 
TV 
 
 78 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (ftOtttrobergg. — Butler. 
 
 TTE could raise Scruples dark and nice, 
 
 And after solve 'em in a trice; 
 As if Divinity bad catch'd 
 The itch on purpose to be scratch'd. 
 
 (ftontrobctsj;. — coiton. 
 
 ^E are more inclined to hate one another for Points on which 
 we differ, than to love one another for Points on which we 
 agree. The reason perhaps is this; when we find others that agree 
 with us, we seldom trouble ourselves to confirm that Agreement; 
 but when we chance on those that differ with us, we are zealous 
 both to convince, and to convert them. Our Pride is hurt bv the 
 Failure, and disappointed Pride engenders Hatred. 
 
 (C01ltrcbcrS|). — Dryden. 
 T TELL thee, Mufti, if the world were wise, 
 
 They would not wag one finger in thy quarrels : 
 Your Heav'n you promise, but our Earth you covet, 
 The Phaetons of mankind, who fire that world 
 Which you were sent by preaching but to warm. 
 
 lUltgtiniJS ©MrtrobetSg. — Dryden. 
 
 TS not the Care of Souls a load sufficient? 
 
 Are not your holy stipends paid for this ? 
 Were you not bred apart from worldly noise, 
 To study Souls, their Cures and their Diseases ? 
 The province of the Soul is large enough 
 To fill up every cranny of your time, 
 And leave you much to answer, if one wretch 
 Be damn'd by your neglect. 
 
 (ftOttbetJBatUm, — Addison. 
 r^XE would think that the larger the Company is in which we are 
 engaged, the greater variety of Thoughts and Subjects would 
 be started into discourse ; but instead of this, we find that Conver- 
 sation is never so much straitened and confined as in numerous 
 assemblies. 
 
 (ftottbetsattwi. — Coiton. 
 
 VyHEN we are in the Company of sensible men, we ought to be 
 doubly cautious of talking too much, lest we lose two good 
 things, their good opinion, and our own improvement; for what we 
 have to say we know, but what they have to say we know not. 
 
 (Tcnbcrsattcm. — Adi&on. 
 
 TN private Conversation between intimate Friends, the wisest men 
 very often talk like the weakest ; for indeed the talking with a 
 Friend is nothing else but thinking; aloud. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 79 
 
 (ftonbersatum. — La Brut/ere. 
 7 THERE is speaking well, speaking easily, speaking justly, and 
 speaking seasonably : It is offending against the last, to speak 
 of entertainments before the indigent ; of sound limbs and health 
 before the infirm ) of houses and lands before one who has not so 
 much as a dwelling ; in a word, to speak of your prosperity before 
 the miserable ; this Conversation is cruel, and the comparison 
 which naturally arises in them betwixt their condition and yours 
 is excruciating. 
 
 (ftfJttuerSattOtt. — La Brwjere. 
 A MONGST such as out of Cunning hear all and talk little, be 
 sure to talk less ; or if you must talk, say little. 
 
 (ftonbersattcm. — Burke. 
 
 r FHE Perfection of Conversation is not to play a regular sonata, 
 but, like the iEolian harp, to await the Inspiration of the pass- 
 ing breeze. 
 
 (£m\btx$ation. — Johnson. 
 
 pTE only will please long, who by tempering the acidity of Satire 
 with the sugar of Civility, and allaying the heat of Wit with 
 the frigidity of Humble Chat, can make the true Punch of Conver- 
 sation ; and as that punch can be drunk in the greatest quantity 
 which has the largest proportion of water, so that Companion will 
 be oftenest welcome, whose Talk flows out with unoffensive copi- 
 ousness, and unenvied insipidity. 
 
 (Conbcrsatton. — Steele. 
 
 TT is a Secret known but to few, yet of no small use in the con- 
 duct of Life, that when you fall into a man's Conversation, the 
 first thing you should consider is, whether he has a greater inclina- 
 tion to hear you, or that you should hear him. 
 
 (Ctmbersatum. — Sir William Temple. 
 TN Conversation, Humour is more than Wit, Easiness more than 
 Knowledge j few desire to learn, or to think they need it ; all 
 desire to be pleased, or, if not, to be easy. 
 
 (Tonbersation. — coUen. 
 
 gOME men are very entertaiuing for a first Interview, but after 
 that they are exhausted, and run out; on a second Meeting we 
 shall find them very flat and monotonous : like hand-organs, we 
 have heard all their tunes. 
 
 (£onber0at(OTT. — Lamter. 
 TTE who sedulously attends, pointedly asks, calmly speaks, coolly 
 answers, and ceases when he has no more to say, is in posses- 
 sion of some of the best requisites of Man. 
 
 II 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 S 
 
 JH 
 
 ttonberaatum. — CoUon. 
 
 OME Praters are so full of their own Gabble, and so fond of 
 their own Discord, that they would not suspend their eternal 
 Monotonies, to hear the Wit of Sheridan, or the Point of Swift; 
 one might as well attempt to stop the saw of a task-working stone- 
 cutter, by the melodies of an iEoHan harp. Others again there are, 
 who hide that Ignorance in silent Gravity that these expose by silly 
 Talk ; but they are so coldly correct, and .so methodically dull, that 
 any attempt to raise the slumbering sparks of Genius by means of 
 such instruments, would be to stir up a languishing fire with a 
 ] ker of ice. There is a third class, forming a great majority, 
 being a heavy compound of the two former, and possessing many 
 of the properties peculiar to each; thus they have just Ignorauce 
 enough to talk amongst Fools, and just Sense enough to be silent 
 amongst Wits. But they have no Vivacity in themselves, nor 
 relish for it in another: to attempt to keep up the ball of Conver- 
 sation with such partners would be to play a game of Fives against 
 a bed of feathers. 
 
 (Tonbr rsation. — Addison. 
 
 AT part of life which we ordinarily understand by the word 
 Conversation, is an indulgence to the sociable part of our make ; 
 and should incline us to bring our proporti n y:>f good-will or good- 
 liiunour among the Friends we meet with, and not to trouble them 
 with relations which must of necessity oblige them to a real or 
 d affliction. Cares, distresses, diseases, uneasinesses, and dis- 
 likes of our own. are by no means to be obtruded upon our Fric 
 If we would consider how little of this vicissitude of motion and 
 rest, which we call life, is spent with satisfaction, we should be more 
 tender of our friends, than to bring them little sorrows which do 
 not belong to tlum. There is no real life but cheerful life; there- 
 fore valetudinarians should be sworn, before they enter into Com- 
 pany, not to say a word of themselves until the meeting breaks up. 
 
 iToiUlfl'SatlOn.— From the French. 
 CI PEAK little and well if you wish to be considered as possessing 
 merit. 
 
 (fonluu'sattcm.— FuUer. 
 
 ^VEYE1\ contend with one that is foolish, proud, positive, testy; 
 "" or with a superior, or a clown, in matter of Argument. 
 
 ©onbetsatton. _ Steele. 
 
 r>EAUTY is never so lovely as when adorned with the Smile, 
 and Conversation never sits easier upon us than when we now 
 and then discharge ourselves in a symphony of Laughter, which 
 \i.:.y not improperly be called the Chorus of Conversation. 
 
 JJ 
 
(r 
 
 OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 81 
 
 (Tonbcrsatum. — Swift. 
 
 "\"OTHIXG is more generally exploded than the folly of talking 
 "*" too much ; yet I rarely remember to have seen five people to- 
 gether, where some one among them has not been predominant in 
 that kind, to the great constraint and disgust of all the rest. But 
 among such as deal in Multitudes of Words, none are comparable tc 
 the sober deliberate Talker, who proceeds with much thought and 
 caution, makes his preface, branches out into several digressions, 
 finds a hint that puts him in mind of another Story, which he pro- 
 mises to tell you when this is done; comes back regularly to his 
 subject, cannot readily call to mind some person's name, holding 
 his head, complains of his memory: the whole Company all this 
 while is in suspense; at length, he "says it is no matter, and sc 
 goes on. And, to crown the business, it perhaps proves at last a 
 Story the Company has heard fifty times before. 
 
 (TonuCrSattCm. — Sir William Temple. 
 r FHE first ingredient in Conversation is Truth, the next Good 
 Sense, the third Good Humour, and the fourth Wit. 
 
 (TonbctSattCtt. — La Rocli»foucauld. 
 HP HE extreme pleasure we take in talking of ourselves should 
 make us fear that we give very little to those who listen to us. 
 
 (fonbersattcm.— Sir iff. 
 
 ONE of the best Rules in Conversation is, never to say a thing 
 which an}- of the Company can reasonably wish we had rather 
 left unsaid : nor can there any thing be well more contrary to the 
 ends for which people meet together, than to part unsatisfied with 
 each other or themselves. 
 
 (ft U b C rs a 1 1 tt . — VoUa ire. 
 HTHE secret of tiring is to say every thing that can be said on the 
 subject. 
 
 (Conbcrsatton. — La RociirfoucauU. 
 
 ONE thing which makes us (ind so few people who appear rea- 
 sonable and agreeable in Conversation is, that there is scarcely 
 any one who does not think more of what he is about to say than of 
 answering precisely what is said to him. The cleverest and most 
 complaisant people content themselves with merely showing an at- 
 tentive Countenance, while we can see in their eyes and mind a 
 wandering from what is said to them, and an impatience to return 
 to what they wish to say; instead of reflecting that it is a bad 
 method of pleasing or persuading others, to be so studious of pleas- 
 ing oneself; and that listening well and answering well is one of 
 the (ireatest Perfections that can be attained in Conversation. 
 
82 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (tfonbctsation. — Ooiton. 
 
 1XTHEN" I meet with any that write obscurely, or converse 
 confusedly, I am apt to suspect two things ; first, that such 
 persons do not understand themselves; and, secondly, that they are 
 not worthy of being understood by others. 
 
 (JTonbcrston. — Coiton. 
 
 'THE most zealous Converters are always the most rancorous, 
 when they fail of producing Conviction ; but when they succeed, 
 they love their new Disciples far better than those whose establish- 
 ment in the Faith neither excited their zeal to the combat, nor re- 
 warded their prowess with victory. 
 
 (ftonbcrgton.— Goethe. 
 
 A S to the value of Conversions, God alone can judge. God alone 
 
 can know how wide are the steps which the soul has to take 
 
 before it can approach to a Community with him, to the dwelling 
 
 of the Perfect, or to the Intercourse and Friendship of higher 
 
 natures. 
 
 (ftOltbtbtaittp. — Armstrong. 
 "\\THAT dext'rous thousands just within the goal 
 Of wild Debauch direct their nightly course ! 
 Perhaps no sickly qualms bedim their days, 
 No morning admonitions shock the head. 
 But ah ! what woes remain ? life rolls apace, 
 And that incurable disease, old age, 
 In youthful bodies more severely felt, 
 More sternly active, shakes their blasted prime. 
 
 (ftOttblbtalttg. — Charles Johnson. 
 
 when we swallow down 
 Intoxicating Wine, we drink Damnation ; 
 Naked we stand the sport of mocking fiends, 
 Who grin to see our noble nature vanquish' d, 
 Subdued to beasts. 
 
 Cfje (KoqUCtte. —Joanna Baillie. 
 She who only finds her Self-esteem 
 In others' Admiration, begs an alms ; 
 Depends on others for her daily food, 
 And is the very servant of her slaves ; 
 Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour, 
 O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert, 
 Which not ennobles, but degrades her state. 
 
 (Kotruptctf CalCttt. — ShaJcspeare. 
 THE gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare Speaker, 
 To nature none more bound ; his Training such, 
 
OR, THING S NEW AND OLD. 83 
 
 That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, 
 
 And never seek for aid out of himself. 
 
 Yet see, 
 
 When these so noble benefits shall prove 
 
 Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, 
 
 They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly 
 
 Than ever they were fair. 
 
 (fcomtptimt. —Burke. 
 'THE age unquestionably produces, (whether in a greater or less 
 number than in former times, I know not,) daring Profligates 
 and insidious Hypocrites. What then ? Am I not to avail myself 
 of whatever good is to be found in the world, because of the mix- 
 ture of evil that will always be in it? The smallnesa of the quan- 
 tity in currency only heightens the value. 
 
 (Corruption. — Shakspeare. 
 (") THAT estates, degrees and offices 
 
 Were not derived corruptly ! and that clear Honour 
 Were purchased by the Merit of the wearer ! 
 How many then should cover, that stand bare! 
 How many be commanded, that command ! 
 How much low peasantry would then be gleau'd 
 From the true seed of honour ! And how much Honour 
 Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times, 
 To be new garnish' d ! 
 
 (Corruption.— Coiton. 
 
 A TEX, by associating in large masses, as in camps, and in cities, 
 improve their Talents, but impair their Virtues, an 1 strengthen 
 their Minds, but weaken their Morals; thus a retrocession in the 
 one, is too often the price they pay for a refinement in the other. 
 
 (Corruption. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHEY that have power to hurt and will do none, 
 
 That do not do the thing they most do show, 
 Who, moving others, are themselves of stone, 
 
 Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow; 
 They rightly do inherit Heav'n's graces, 
 
 And husband Nature's riches from expense ; 
 They are the lords and owners of their faces, 
 
 Others but stewards of their excellence. 
 The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, 
 
 Though to itself it only live and die; 
 But if that flower with base Infection meet, 
 
 The basest weed outbraves his dignity; 
 For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; 
 Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. 
 h2 
 
84 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 OTomipticm. — Shakspeare. 
 
 TF that the Heavens do not their visible spirits 
 Send quickly down to tame these vile Offences, 
 ' Twill come, 
 
 Humanity must perforce prey on itself, 
 Like monsters of the deep. 
 
 OtoUttSeL — Fuller. 
 Good Counsels observed are chains to grace. 
 
 (EOUmtL — Seneca. 
 /CONSULT your Friend on all things, especially on those which 
 respect yourself. His Counsel may then be useful, where your 
 own self-love might impair your Judgment. 
 
 (EOUnCtL— Shdkspeare. 
 T ET our Alliance be combined, 
 
 Our best Friends made, and our best Means stretch'd out; 
 And let us presently go sit in Council, 
 How covert matters may be best disclosed, 
 And open perils surest answer'd. 
 
 (ftOUtttrg*— MaUeck. 
 
 They love their land because it is their own, 
 And scorn to give aught other reason why. 
 
 3H)e (ftountrp.— miton. 
 
 J^ WILDERNESS of sweets; for Nature here 
 
 Wanton' d as in her prime, and play'd at will 
 Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
 Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. 
 
 (ftCimttg Htfe. — Milton. 
 
 Wisdom's self 
 Oft seeks so sweet retired Solitude; 
 Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, 
 That in the various bustle of Resort 
 Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. 
 
 (ftOUtttrj) Utfe. — Cowper. 
 TTOW various his employments, whom the world 
 
 Calls idle, and who justly in return 
 Esteems that busy world an idler too ! 
 Friends, books, a Garden, and perhaps his pen, 
 Delightful industry enjoyed at home, 
 And Nature in her cultivated trim, 
 Dress' d to his taste, inviting him abroad. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 85 
 
 (ftOUtttrj) Utfe. — Thomson. 
 
 Now from the town 
 Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
 Oft let me wander o'er the dewy Fields, 
 Where freshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops 
 From the bent Bush, as through the verdant Maze 
 Of Sweet-brier Hedges I pursue my walk. 
 
 (Eountq) ?Ltfe. — Cowper. 
 
 ''TIS pleasant through the loop-holes of Retreat,. 
 
 To peep at such a world. 
 To see the stir of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd. 
 To hear the roar she sends through all her gates, 
 At a safe distance, where the dying sound 
 Falls a soft murmur oil th' uninjur'd car. 
 
 <£0lUtttg Hit.— Cowper. 
 T'HEY love the Country, and none else, who seek 
 
 For their own sake its Silence and its Shade: 
 Delights which who would leave that has a heart 
 Susceptible of pity, or a mind 
 Cultured and capable of sober thought. 
 
 (ftmmttj) Etfe. — Coteper. 
 CtOD made the Country, and man made the Town. 
 What wonder, then, that health and virtue, gifts 
 That can alone make sweet the bitter draught 
 That life holds out to all, should most abound 
 And least be threatened in the Fields and Groves. 
 
 (Eoimttj) Hlft.— Cowper. 
 (~)H for a Lodge in some vast Wilderness, 
 
 Some boundless Contiguity of Shade, 
 Where rumour of oppression and deceit, 
 Of unsuccessful and successful war 
 Might never reach me more ! My car is paiu'd, 
 My soul is sick with every day's report 
 Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fiU'd. 
 
 (County ?itfC. — Cowper. 
 r THE spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns; 
 The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, 
 And sullen sadness that o'ershade, distort, 
 And mar the face of beauty, when no cause 
 For such immeasurable wo appears, 
 These Flora banishes, and gives the fair 
 Sweet smiles and bloom less transient than her own. 
 
86 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (tfOUltfCg 1L\U. — Thomson. 
 HTIIRICE happy he ! who on the sunless side 
 
 Of a romantic Mountain, Forest ccown'd, 
 Beueath the whole collected Shade reclines ; 
 Or in the gelid Caverns, Wood-bine wrought, 
 And fresh bedew'd with ever-spouting Streams, 
 Sits coolly calm ; while all the world without, 
 Unsatisfy'd, and sick, tosses at noon. 
 Emblem instructive of the virtuous man, 
 Who keeps his temper' d mind serene, and pure, 
 And every passion aptly harmoniz'd, 
 Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd. 
 
 (ftomttl'g ILUz. — Peter Pindar. 
 'THERE Health, so wild and gay, with bosom bare, 
 
 And rosy cheek, keen eye, and flowing hair, 
 Trips with a smile the breezy Scene along, 
 And pours the spirit of Content in song. 
 
 (ftOUttttg 3LtfC — Thomson. 
 TTERE too dwells simple Truth; plain Innocence; 
 
 Unsullied Beauty ; sound unbroken Youth, 
 Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd ; 
 Health ever blooming; unambitious Toil: 
 Calm Contemplation, and poetic Ease. 
 
 (KOUnttg TLttz. — Thomson. 
 (")H knew he but his happiness, of men 
 
 The happiest he ! who far from public rage, 
 Deep in the Vale, with a choice few retired, 
 . Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life. 
 
 <£nUUtrj) UtfC. — Thomson. 
 T3ERHAPS thy loved Lucinda shares thy Walk, 
 With soul to thine attuned. Then Nature all 
 Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; 
 And all the tumult of a guilty world, 
 Toss'd by ungenerous passions, sinks away. 
 
 (Courage. — Shakspeare. 
 T DO not think a Braver Gentleman, 
 
 More active valiant, or more valiant-young, 
 More daring, or more bold, is now alive, 
 To grace this latter age with noble deeds. 
 
 (ftMirage. — Byron. 
 
 A real Spirit 
 Should neither court neglect, nor dread to bear it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 8? 
 
 ©OUtage. — Ben Jonson. 
 
 A VALIANT Man 
 
 Ought not to undergo or tempt a danger, 
 But worthily, and by selected ways, 
 He undertakes by reason, not by chance. 
 His Valour is the salt t' his other virtues, 
 They're all unseason'd without it. 
 
 ©Outage. — Joanna Baillie. 
 'THE Brave Man is not he who feels no fear, 
 
 For that were stupid and irrational ; 
 But he, whose noble Soul its Fear subdues, 
 And bravely dares the Danger nature shrinks from. 
 As for your youth, whom blood and blows delight, 
 Away with them ! there is not in their crew 
 One valiant Spirit. 
 
 ©OUCage. — Shahspeare. 
 
 Come all to ruin ; 
 Let thy mother rather feel thy Pride, than fear 
 Thy dangerous Stoutness; fori mock at death, 
 With a big Heart as thou. Do as thou list. 
 Thy Valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me; 
 But owe thy Pride thyself. 
 
 ©outage. — Cotton. 
 
 PHYSICAL Courage, which despises all dangor, will make a man 
 brave in one way; and Moral Courage, which despises all 
 opinion, will make a man brave in another. The former would 
 seem most necessary for the camp, the latter for council ; but to 
 constitute a great man, both are necessary. 
 
 ©OUtage. — Shaftesbury. 
 'TRUE Courage is cool and calm. The bravest of men have the 
 least of a brutal bullying insolence; and in the very time of 
 danger are found the most serene and free. Rage, we know, can 
 make a coward forget himself and fight. But what is done in fury 
 or anger can never be placed to the account of Courage. 
 
 ©OUtage. — JDryden. 
 AN intrepid Courage is at best but a holiday-kind of virtue, to 
 be seldom exercised, and never but in cases of necessity : af- 
 fability, mildness, tenderness, and a word which I would fain bring 
 back to its original signification of virtue, I mean good-nature, are 
 of daily use; they are the bread of mankind, and staff of life. 
 
 ©OUtage*— GreuilU. 
 
 ATOST men have more Courage than even they themselves think 
 they have. 
 
88 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH. 
 
 (£0Utafie. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He bore him in the thickest troop, 
 As doth a Lion in a herd of Neat : 
 Or as a Bear, encompass'd round with Dogs ; 
 Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, 
 The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. 
 
 (^Outage. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He stopp'd the fliers ; 
 And, by his rare example, made the coward 
 Turn Terror into Sport ; as waves before 
 A vessel under sail, so men obey'd, 
 And fell below his stem. 
 
 CfjC (EtiUtU — LaBruyere. 
 'THE Court does not render a man contented, but it prevents his 
 being so elsewhere. 
 
 Clje (£$\lXt— Burke. 
 
 TT is of great importance (provided the thing is not over done) to 
 contrive such an establishment as must, almost whether a Prince 
 will or not, bring into daily and hourly oflices about his person, a 
 great number of his first Nobility; and it is rather an useful pre- 
 judice that gives them pride in such a servitude. Though they are 
 not much the better for a Court, a Court will be much the better 
 for them. 
 
 <#0Urt 3JcalOUS;!)- — Shakspeare. 
 
 No simple man that sees 
 This jarring Discord of Nobility, 
 This should'ring of each other in the Court, 
 This factious bandying of their Favourites, 
 But that it doth presage some ill event. 
 'Tis much, when sceptres are in children's hands; 
 But more, when envy breeds unkind division ; 
 There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. 
 
 <£0Utteg£. — Shakspeare. 
 
 °> . 
 
 Dissembling Courtesy ! how fine this tyrant 
 
 Can tickle where she wounds ! 
 
 Cf)e OTourtter Dryden. 
 
 See how he sets his Countenance for Deceit, 
 And promises a Lie before he speaks. 
 
 (ftmtCtSijtp. — Shakspeare. 
 Win her with Gifts, if she respect not Words; 
 Dumb Jewels often, in their silent kind, 
 More quick than Words, do move a Woman's Mind. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 89 
 
 <£mirt!5f)tp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 'THOU Hast by moon-light at her window sung, 
 With feigning voice, verses of feigning Love ; 
 And stol'n the impression of her fantasy 
 With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gauds, conceits, 
 Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweet-meats j messengers 
 Of strong prevail ment in unharden'd youth. 
 
 (£0Utt!5f) tp. — Shakspeare. 
 gAY, that she rail; Why, then I'll tell her plain, 
 
 She sings as sweetly as a nightingale : 
 Say, that she frown : I'll say, she looks as clear 
 As morning roses newly wash'd with dew : 
 Say, she be mute, and will not speak a word ; 
 Then I'll commend her volubility, 
 And say — she uttereth piercing eloquence. 
 If she do frown 'tis not in hate of you, 
 But rather to beget more love in you : 
 If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone ; 
 For why, the fools are mad if left alone. 
 Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; 
 For, (jet you [/one, she doth not mean, away. 
 
 (Courtsijip.— Blair. 
 
 r\H, then the longest summer's day 
 
 Seem'd too, too much in haste : still the full Heart 
 Had not imparted half: 'twas Happiness 
 Too exquisite to last. Of joys departed, 
 Not to return, how painful the remembrance ! 
 
 (Tourtsijtp. — Hiii. 
 
 With Women worth the being won, 
 The softest Lover ever best succeeds. 
 
 &0tttt8jifl. — Thomson. 
 
 f^OME then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose Hearts 
 
 Have felt the raptures of refining Love ; 
 And thou, Amanda, come, pride of my soug ! 
 Forni'd by the Graces, Loveliness itself 1 
 Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, 
 Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul, 
 Where with the light of thoughtful reason mix'd, 
 Shines lively fancy and the feeling heart : 
 Oh come ! and while the rosy-footed May 
 Steals blushing on, together let us tread 
 The morning dews and gather in their prime 
 Fresh-blooming flowers, to grace thy braided hair, 
 And thy lov'd bosom that improves their sweets. 
 
90 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <£0UrtSf)tp. — Sliakspeare. 
 ft AY, that upon the altar of her Beauty 
 
 You sacrifice your Tears, your Sighs, your Heart : 
 Write, till your ink be dry j and with your tears 
 Moist it again; and frame some feeling line, 
 That may discover such integrity. 
 
 (CoUttSfjip. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Women are angels wooing: 
 Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing: 
 That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not this, — 
 Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is. 
 
 (Courts!) tp. — Shakspeare. 
 TIT'HY should you think that I should woo in scorn? 
 
 Scorn and derision never come in tears? 
 Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, 
 In their nativity all truth appears. 
 
 <£abetOUStte00* — South. 
 
 'THE Covetous Person lives as if the world were made altogether 
 for him, and not he for the world; to take in every thing, and 
 part with nothing. 
 
 (Cobctousncss. — baton. 
 
 A FTER Hypocrites, the greatest dupes the Devil has are those 
 who exhaust an anxious existence in the Disappointments and 
 Vexations of Business, and live miserably and meanly only to die 
 magnificently and rich. For, like the Hypocrites, the only disin- 
 terested action these men can accuse themselves of is, that of serv- 
 ing the Devil, without receiving his wages: he that stands every 
 day of his life behind a counter, until he drops from it into the 
 grave, may negotiate many very profitable bargains; but he has 
 made a single bad one, so bad indeed, that it counterbalances all 
 the rest ; for the empty foolery of dying rich, he has paid down his 
 health, his happiness, and his integrity. 
 
 (CobetOUSneSS. — Burton. 
 f^OVETOUS men are fools, miserable wretches, buzzards, mad- 
 men, who live by themselves, in perpetual slavery, fear, suspi- 
 cion, sorrow, discontent, with more of gall than honey in their 
 enjoyments; who are rather possessed by their Money than Pos- 
 sessors of it; mancipati pecunits, bound 'prentices to their property; 
 and, servi divitiarum, mean slaves and drudges to their Substance. 
 
 (Cobetousncss.— F. Osbom. 
 
 QOYETOUSNESS, like a candle ill made, smothers the splendour 
 of a happy fortune in its own grease. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 91 
 
 (SobetOUSnCSS* — Shakspeare. 
 Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. 
 
 1 st Fisherman : 
 Why as men do a-land: the great ones eat up the little ones. I 
 can compare our rich Misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale; 'a 
 plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him and at last 
 devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on the 
 land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallowed the whole 
 parish, church, steeple, bells, and al^. 
 
 (ftobetOUStteSS. — Shakspeare. 
 When workmen strive to do better than well, 
 They do confound their skill in Covetousness. 
 
 (ftutoaru'tCe. — Shakspeare. 
 You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, 
 Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. 
 
 W§t CtaCOtttu. — Shakspeare. 
 lDUT, I remember, when the fight was done, 
 
 When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, 
 Breathless, and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
 Came there a certain Lord, neat, trimly dress'd : 
 Fresh as a Bridegroom, and his chin, new reap'd, 
 Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home. 
 He was perfumed like a Milliner; 
 And 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held 
 A pouncet box, which ever and anon 
 He gave his nose : and still he smiled and talk'd ; 
 And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, 
 He call'd them — untaught knaves, unmannerly, 
 To bring a slovenly unhandsome corpse 
 Betwixt the wind and his Nobility. 
 
 (£reeK — Coiton. 
 
 TTE that will believe only what he can fully comprehend, must 
 have a very long head, or a very short Creed. 
 
 <£rceu\ — Colton. 
 1 N Politics, as in Religion, it so happens that we have less charity 
 for those who believe the half of our Creed, than for those that 
 deny the whole of it, since if Servetus had been a Mohammedan, 
 he would not have been burnt by Calvin. 
 
 (Ert&Ulttg, — Colton. 
 THE Testimony of those who doubt the least, is, not unusually, 
 that very Testimony that ought most to be doubted. 
 
92 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (£retfUlttj)- — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 The only disadvantage of an honest heart is Credulity. 
 
 (tftetmlttj). — Coiton. 
 
 TT is a curious paradox, that precisely in proportion to our own 
 intellectual weakness, will be our Credulity as to those mys- 
 terious powers assumed by others; and in those regions of dark- 
 ness and ignorance where man cannot effect even those things that 
 are within the power of man, there we shall ever find that a blind 
 belief in feats that are far beyond those powers, has taken the 
 deepest root in the minds of the deceived, and produced the richest 
 harvest to the knavery of the deceiver. An impostor that would 
 starve in Edinburgh, might luxuriate in his Gynseceum at Con- 
 stantinople. But the more we know as to those things that can 
 be done, the more skeptical do we become as to all things that 
 cannot. 
 
 <£ufrUlttg* — From the French. 
 r pHE common people are to be caught by the ears as one catches 
 a pot by the handle. 
 
 (f£rittt0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 ~pOR the credit of Virtue it must be admitted that the greatest 
 evils which befall mankind are caused by their Crimes. 
 
 (KrittCtSTTL — Washington Irving. 
 HTHERE is a certain meddlesome spirit, which, in the garb of 
 learned research, goes prying about the traces of history, casting 
 down its monuments, and marring and mutilating its fairest trophies. 
 Care should be taken to vindicate great names from such pernicious 
 erudition. 
 
 <&rittC&— Aiken. 
 
 TTE whose first emotion, on the view of an excellent production, is 
 to undervalue it, will never have one of his own to show. 
 
 (KntiCS* — Washington Irving. 
 (CRITICS are a kind of Freebooters in the republic of Letters — 
 who, like deer, goats, and divers other graminivorous animals, 
 gain subsistence by gorging upon buds and leaves of the young 
 shrubs of the forest, thereby robbing them of their verdure, and 
 retarding their progress to maturity. 
 
 (£rittCJ3. — Longfellow. 
 (CRITICS are sentinels in the grand army of letters, stationed at 
 the corners of newspapers and reviews, to challenge every new 
 author. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 93 
 
 Oftotott.— HaUeck* 
 
 "pMPIRES to-day are upside down, 
 
 The castle kneels before the town, 
 The monarch fears a pri liter's frown, 
 
 A brickbat's range ; 
 Give me, in preference to a crown, 
 Five shillings change. 
 
 <&\mmn$.— Brut/ere. 
 
 QUNNING is none of the best nor worst qualities : it floats be- 
 tween Virtue and Vice : there is scarce any exigence where it 
 may not, and perhaps ought not to be supplied by Prudence. 
 
 (Eunntnfl. —Lord GreviUe. 
 "THE common Contrivances of Cunning put me in mind of the 
 preservative instinct I have sometimes observed in Beasts, 
 which lay a plot that is extremely artful and well concealed in 
 many parts, but at the same time left so open in some one that it 
 is perfectly easy for superior intelligence to see and understand 
 the whole complication of the contrivance. 
 
 Running. — Piato. 
 
 JTNOWLEDGE without Justice ought to be called Cunning 
 rather than Wisdom. 
 
 (Sunning. —La Bruyere. 
 QUNNTNG leads to Knavery ; it is but a step from one to the 
 other, and that very slippery; Lying only makes the differ- 
 ence : add that to Cunning, and it is Knavery. 
 
 (Sunning.— Coiton. 
 
 TAKING things not as they ought to be, but as they are, I fear 
 it must be allowed that Machiavelli will always have more 
 disciples than Jesus. Out of the millions who have studied and 
 even admired the precepts of the Nazarite, how few are there that 
 have reduced them to practice. But there are numbers numberless 
 who throughout the whole of their lives have been practising the 
 principles of the Italian, without having even heard of his name; 
 who cordially believe with him that the tongue was given us to 
 discover the thoughts of others, and to conceal our own. 
 
 Cunning.— Goldsmith. 
 THE bounds of a man's knowledge are easily concealed, if he has 
 but prudence. 
 
 (Sunning. — La Rochefoucauld, 
 'JHE most sure method of subjecting yourself to be deceived, is 
 to consider yourself more Cunning than others. 
 
94 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dunning. — Lord Greville. 
 Y\HE should do by our Cunning as we do by our Courage, — always 
 have it ready to defend ourselves, never to offend others. 
 
 dunning. — Lord Bacon. 
 TVTIS take Cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom, and certainly 
 there is a great difference between a Cunning Man and a wise 
 man, not only in point of honesty but in point of ability. 
 
 dunning. — Coiton. 
 
 TTURRY and Cunning are the two apprentices of Dispatch and 
 of Skill ; but neither of them ever learn their masters' trade. 
 
 dunning. — Addison. 
 r^UNNINGr has only private selfish aims, and sticks at nothing 
 which may make them succeed. Discretion has large and ex- 
 tended views, and, like a well-formed eye, commands a whole 
 horizon ; Cunning is a kind of short-sightedness, that discovers the 
 minutest objects which are near at hand, but is not able to discern 
 things at a distance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives 
 a greater authority to the person who possesses it. Discretion is 
 the perfection of Reason, and a guide to us in all the duties of life : 
 Cunning is a kind of Instinct, that only looks out after our imme- 
 diate interest and welfare. Discretion is only found in men of 
 strong sense and good understandings : Cunning is often to be met 
 with in brutes themselves, and in persons who are but the fewest 
 removes from them. In short, Cunning is only the mimic of Dis- 
 cretion, and may pass upon weak men, in the same manner as 
 Vivacity is often mistaken for Wit, and Gravity for Wisdom. 
 
 dunning. — steme. 
 
 r rHE paths of Virtue are plain and straight, so that the blind, 
 persons of the meanest capacity, shall not err. Dishonesty re- 
 quires skill to conduct it, and as great art to conceal — what 'tis 
 every one's interest to detect. And I think I need not remind you 
 how often it happens in attempts of this kind — where worldly men, 
 in haste to be rich, have overrun the only means to it, — and for 
 want of laying their contrivances with proper Cunning, or manag- 
 ing them with proper Secrecy and Advantage, have lost for ever 
 what they might have certainly secured with Honesty and Plain- 
 dealing. 
 
 dUt0C£. — Shdkspeare. 
 T^EED not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, 
 
 Nor with thy sweets comfort his rav'nous sense : 
 But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, 
 And heavy gaited toads, lie in their way. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 95 
 
 (fttustoim— max. 
 
 Custom forms us all; 
 Our thoughts, our morals, our most fiVd belief, 
 Are consequences of our place of birth. 
 
 (EujStom. — Rabelais. 
 C^AN there be any greater dotage in the world, than for one tc 
 guide and direct his Courses by the sound of a bell, and not by 
 his own judgment and discretion. 
 
 ©UStOm. — Cowper. 
 To follow foolish Precedents, and wink 
 "With both our eyes, is easier than to think. 
 
 (ftUStom. — Colton. 
 V^THEN all moves equally (says Pascal) nothing seems to move, 
 as in a vessel under sail; and when all run by common con- 
 sent into vice, none appear to do so. He that stops first, views as 
 from a fixed point the horrible extravagance that transports the 
 rest. 
 
 <£u0tCm\ — Shakspeare. 
 New Customs, 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 Nay let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. 
 
 Btatf). — Steele. 
 A LL that nature has prescribed must be good ; and as Death is 
 natural to us, it is absurdity to fear it. Fear loses its purpose 
 when we are sure it cannot preserve us, and we should draw reso- 
 lution to meet it, from the impossibility to escape it. 
 
 SeatJK — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Neither the sun nor Death can be looked at steadily. 
 
 2Beatf).- -Coium. 
 
 'THE hand that unnerved Belshazzar derived its most horrifying 
 influence from the want of a hod//; and Death itself is not 
 formidable in what we do know of it, but in what we do not. 
 
 BeatJ- — Martial. 
 VOU should not fear, nor yet should you wish for your Last 
 X Day. 
 
 Beat?), — Pascal. 
 "T)EATH itself is less painful when it comes upon us unawares, 
 than the bare contemplation of it, even when danger is far 
 uistant. 
 
 i2 
 
96 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Bcafy. — S/iakspeare. 
 The tongues of dying Men 
 Enforce attention like deep harmony; 
 Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, 
 For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain. 
 He, that no more must say, is listened more 
 Than they, whom youth and ease have taught to glose; 
 More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before : 
 The setting sun, and music at the close, 
 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; 
 Writ in remembrance, more than things long past. 
 
 Beat!)* — Shakspeare. 
 
 Death is a fearful thing, 
 And shamed life a hateful. 
 To die, and go we know not where ; 
 To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; 
 This sensible warm motion to become 
 A kneaded Clod; and the delighted Spirit 
 To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 
 In thrilling regions of thick-ribb'd ice; 
 To be impiison'd in the viewless winds, 
 And blown with restless violence round about 
 The pendant world, or to be worse than worst 
 Of those, that lawless and uncertain thoughts 
 Imagine howling! — 'tis too horrible! 
 The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment, 
 Can lay on Nature, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of Death. 
 
 10 eat {)♦ — Shakspeare. 
 Nothing can we call our own, but Death ; 
 And that small model of the barren earth, 
 Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. 
 
 l^Catf)* — Metastasio. 
 I T is by no means a fact, that Death is the worst of all evils ; 
 when it comes, it is an alleviation to mortals who are worn out 
 with sufferings. 
 
 Heat f). — Shakspeare, 
 nnO what base uses we may return ! Why may not imagination 
 trace the noble dust of Alexander, till it find it stopping a bung- 
 hole ? As thus, Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander 
 rcturneth to dust; the dust is earth : of earth we make loam : And 
 why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a 
 beer barrel 1 
 
OR, THIXGS XEYf AND OLD. 97 
 
 ~F)EATH is the Liberator of him whom freedom cannot release, 
 the Physician of him whom medicine cannot cure, and the Com- 
 forter of him whom time cannot console. 
 
 I3e<Jtf). — Shakspeare. 
 For within the hollow crown, 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king, 
 Keeps Death his court ; and there the Antick sits 
 Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp; 
 Allowing him a breath, a little scene 
 To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks ; 
 Infusing him with self and vain conceit, 
 As if this flesh, which walls about our life, 
 Were brass impregnable : and, humour'd thus, 
 Comes at the last, and with a little pin 
 Bores through his castle-walls, and farewell King ! 
 
 £3 catf). — Shakspeare. 
 OH my love, my wife ! 
 
 Death, that hath suckt the honey of thy breath, 
 Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : 
 Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's eusign yet 
 Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, 
 And Death's pale flag is not advanced there. 
 Why art thou yet so fair ? shall I believe, 
 That unsubstantial Death is amorous, 
 And that the lean abhorr'd Monster keeps 
 Thee here in dark, to be his paramour ? 
 
 Qcatf). — Shakspeare. 
 Death lies on her, like an uutimely frost 
 Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field. 
 
 Ocatf). — Shakspeare. 
 OH, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel ; 
 
 The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; 
 And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, 
 In undetermined differences of kings. 
 
 Scatj). — Shakspeare. 
 ~J^"OW boast thee, Death, in thy possession lies 
 
 A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows close ; 
 
 And golden Phoebus never be beheld 
 Of eyes again so royal ! 
 
 Deatf). — Shakspeare. 
 Mount, mount, my Soul ! thy seat is up on high ; 
 Whilst my gross Flesh sinks downward here to die. 
 
 7 
 
98 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 mtafy. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Full of repentance, 
 Continual meditations, tears and sorrows, 
 He gave his honours to the world again, 
 His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in peace. 
 
 iBeatf), — Shdkspeare. 
 TTAVE I not hideous Death within rny view ? 
 
 ' Retaining but a quantity of life, 
 Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax 
 Resolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire ? 
 What in the world should make me now deceive, 
 Since I must lose the use of all deceit ? 
 Why should I then be false, since it is true, 
 That I must die here, and live hence by truth ? 
 
 Seatf). — Shdkspeare. 
 Nothing in his life 
 Became him like the leaving it. He died, 
 As one that had been studied in his Death, 
 To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd, 
 As 'twere a careless trifle. 
 
 IBeatf). — Slidkspeare. 
 TT is too late j the life of all his blood 
 
 Is touch' d corruptibly; and his pure brain, 
 (Which some suppose, the soul's frail dwelling-house,) 
 Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, 
 Foretell the ending of Mortality. 
 
 Heatf). — Shdkspeare. 
 
 Oh, amiable lovely Death ! 
 Thou odoriferous stench ! sound rottenness ! 
 Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, 
 Thou hate and terror to prosperity, 
 And I will kiss thy detestable bones j 
 And ring these fingers with thy household worms ; 
 And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, 
 And be a carrion Monster like thyself : 
 Come, grin on me ; and I will think thou smil'st, 
 And buss thee as thy wife ! Mercy's love, 
 Oh come to me ! 
 
 J3eati). — Shdkspeare. 
 If thou and nature can so gently part, 
 The stroke of Death is as a lover's pinch, 
 Which hurts, and is desir'd. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 9S 
 
 Scat!). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Death, 
 
 Being an ugly Monster, 
 
 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, 
 Sweet words : or hath more ministers than we 
 That draw his knives i' the war. 
 
 Scat!). — Shakspeare. 
 
 To die, — to sleep, — 
 No more ; — and, by a sleep, to say we end 
 The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks 
 That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wish'd. 
 
 Dcatij. — Shakspeare. 
 T)0 not, for ever, with thy veiled lids 
 
 Seek for thy noble father in the dust : 
 Thou know'st, 'tis common; all, that live, must die, 
 Passing through Nature to Eternity. 
 
 Dcatf). — Shakspeare. 
 "pOR who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
 
 The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, 
 The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, 
 The insoleuce of office, and the spurns 
 That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 
 When he himself might his quietus make 
 With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, 
 To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; 
 But that the dread of something after Death, — 
 The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns, puzzles the will; 
 And makes us rather bear those ills we have, 
 Than fly to others that we know not of? 
 
 Scatf)* — Shakspeare. 
 I AM a tainted wether of the flock, 
 Meetest for Death : the weakest kind of fruit 
 Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. 
 
 Deatf). — Shakspeare. 
 MIGHTY Caesar! dost thou lie so low? 
 
 Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
 Shrunk to this little measure ? 
 But yesterday the word of Cresar might 
 Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
 And none so poor to do him reverence. 
 
100 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 IBt&tl). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Lay her i' the earth ; — 
 And from her fair and unpolluted flesh 
 May violets spring ! I tell thee, churlish priest, 
 A ministering angel shall my sister be, 
 When thou liest howling. 
 
 Sfcatf)* — Young. 
 
 X1THEN down thy vale unlock'd by midnight thought 
 
 That loves to wander in thy sunless realms, 
 Death ! I stretch my view ; what visions rise ! 
 What triumphs ! toils imperial ! arts divine ! 
 In wither' d laurels glide before my sight ! 
 What lengths of far-famed ages, billow'd high 
 With human agitation, roll along 
 In unsubstantial images of air ! 
 The melancholy ghosts of dead renown, 
 Whispering faint echoes of the world's applause 
 With penitential aspect, as they pass, 
 All point at earth, and hiss al human pride, 
 The wisdom of the wise, and prancings of the great. 
 
 2&Z&t f). — Shakspeare. 
 'THE sense of Death is most in apprehension ; 
 
 And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, 
 In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 
 As when a giant dies. 
 
 Heat?). — Shakspeare. 
 Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, 
 Here grow no damned grudges ; here are no storms, 
 No noise, but Silence and Eternal Sleep. 
 
 IBMtl). — Shakspeare. 
 HOWARDS die many times before their Deaths; 
 
 The valiant never taste of Death but once. 
 Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 
 It seems to me most strange that men should fear; 
 Seeing that Death, a necessary end, 
 Will come, when it will come. 
 
 •BtZX%—BMr. 
 
 great Man-eater ! 
 Whose every day is Carnival, not sated yet ! 
 Unheard of Epicure ! without a fellow ! 
 The veriest gluttons do not always cram; 
 Some intervals of abstinence are sought 
 To edge the appetite; thou scekest none. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 101 
 
 23eati)* — Shakspeare. 
 That life is better Life, past fearing Death, 
 Than that which lives to fear. 
 
 Deatj)* — Southey. 
 T)EATH ! to the happy thou art terrible, 
 
 But how the wretched love to think of thee ! 
 thou true comforter, the friend of all 
 Who have no friend beside. 
 
 Beatf). — Young. 
 "PARLY, bright, transient, 
 Chaste as morning dew, 
 She sparkled, was exhaled, 
 And went to Heaven. 
 
 1" FEEL Death rising higher still and higher 
 
 Within my bosom ) every breath I fetch 
 Shuts up my life within a shorter compass : 
 And, like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less 
 And less each pulse, till it be lost in air. 
 
 29eatj.— Byron. 
 
 Death, so called, is a thing that makes men weep, 
 And yet a third of life is pass'd in sleep. 
 
 SJeattf).— Blair. 
 
 TTOW shocking must thy summons be, Death ! 
 
 To him that is at ease in his possessions; 
 Who, counting on long years of pleasure here, 
 Is quite unfurnish'd for that world to come ! 
 In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
 Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, 
 Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, 
 But shrieks in vain ! 
 
 Beat!). — Young. 
 Death is the crown of life : 
 Were Death denied, poor men would live in vain ; 
 Were Death denied, to live would not be life ; 
 Were Death denied, even fools would wish to die. 
 
 Beatf). — Byron. 
 £JAN this be Death ? there's bloom upon her cheek ; 
 
 But now I see it is no living hue, 
 But a strange hectic — like the unnatural red 
 Which Autumn plants upon the perish'd leaf. 
 It is the same ! Oh, God ! that I should dread 
 To look upon the same. 
 
102 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Dtat\). — Youn<j. 
 "WH Y start at Death ? Where is he ? Death arrived, 
 
 Is past; not come, or gone, he's never here. 
 Ere hope, sensation fails ; black-boding man 
 Receives, not suffers, Death's tremendous blow. 
 The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave; 
 The deep damp vault, the darkness, and the worm ; 
 These are the bugbears of a winter's eve, 
 The terrors of the living, not the dead. 
 Imagination's fool, and error's wretch, 
 Man maizes a Death which Nature never made ; 
 Then on the point of his own fancy falls ; 
 And feels a thousand Deaths in fearing one. 
 
 Deatft*— Young. 
 
 "I^ACH friend by Fate snatch'd from us, is a plume 
 
 Pluckt from the wing of human vanity, 
 Which makes us stoop from our aerial heights, 
 And, dampt with omen of our own disease, 
 On drooping pinions of ambition lower'd, 
 Just skim earth's surface, ere we break it up, 
 O'er putrid earth to scratch a little dust, 
 And save the world a nuisance. 
 
 ©eatf). — Mrs. Tighe. 
 C\ THOU most terrible, most dreaded Power, 
 In whatsoever form thou meetest the eye ! 
 
 Whether thou biddest thy sudden arrow fly 
 In the dread silence of the midnight hour; 
 Or whether, hovering o'er the lingering wretch, 
 
 Thy sad cold javelin hangs suspended long, 
 
 While round the couch the weeping Kindred throng. 
 With Hope and Fear alternately on stretch ; 
 Oh say, for me what horrors are prepared ? 
 
 Am I now doom'd to meet thy fatal arm ? 
 
 Or wilt thou first from life steal every charm, 
 And bear away each good my soul would guard ? 
 
 That thus, deprived of all it loved, my heart 
 
 From life itself contentedly may part. 
 
 BtZti). — Campbell 
 ^OON may this fluttering spark of vital flame 
 
 Forsake its languid melancholy frame ! 
 Soon may these eyes their trembling lustre close, 
 Welcome the dreamless night of long Repose ! 
 Soon may this wo worn spirit seek the bourn 
 Where, lull'd to slumber, Grief forgets to mourn ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 103 
 
 jDcatf).— Byron. 
 A SLEEP without dreams, after a rough day 
 Of toil, is what we covet most; and yet 
 How clay shrinks back from more quiescent clay. 
 
 IBeatj,— Byron. 
 
 "T\rHOM the gods love die young" was said of yore, 
 
 And many Deaths do they escape by this : 
 The Death of Friends, and that which slays even more, 
 
 The Death of Friendship, Love, Youth, all that is, 
 Except mere breath ; and since the silent Shore 
 Awaits at last even those whom longest miss 
 The old Archer's shafts, perhaps the early Grave 
 Which men weep over may be meant to save. 
 
 Oeatf) Johnson. 
 
 TN Life's last Scene what prodigies surprise, 
 Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise ? 
 From Marlb'rough'seyes the streams of dotage flow, 
 And Swift expires a driv'ler and a show. 
 
 Beatf)*— Dry den. 
 Oh ! that I less could fear to lose this being ! 
 Which, like a snow-ball in my coward hand, 
 The more 'tis grasp'd, the faster melts away. 
 
 Deatf).— Webster. 
 
 (~\XE may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate; but he 
 must die as a man. The bed of death brings every human 
 being to his pure individuality; to the intense contemplation of 
 that deepest and most solemn of all relations, the relation between 
 the creature and his Creator. Here it is that fame and renown 
 cannot assist us ; that all external things must fail to aid us; that 
 even friends, affection, and human love and devotedness, cannot 
 succour us. 
 
 Dcatij tntf)C OtOUttttg,— Paulding. 
 nTHERE is to my mind and to my early recollections, something ex- 
 quisitely touching in the tolling of a church-bell amid the silence 
 of the country. It communicates for miles around the message of 
 mortality. The ploughman stops his horse to listen to the solemn 
 tidings; the housewife remits her domestic occupations, and sits 
 with the needle idle in her fingers, to ponder who it is that is going 
 to the long home; and even the little, thoughtless children, play- 
 ing and laughing their way from school, are arrested for a moment 
 in their evening gambols by these sounds of melancholy import, aiid 
 cover their heads when they go to rest. 
 
 K 
 
104 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Dcatf) Of QVWXlte.— Fisher Ames. 
 TT is not by destroying tyrants that we are to extinguish tyranny; 
 nature is not thus to be exhausted of her power to produce 
 them. The soil of a republic sprouts with the rankest fertility; it 
 has been sown with dragon's teeth. To lessen the hopes of usurp- 
 ing demagogues, we must enlighten, animate, and combine the 
 spirit of freemen ; we must fortify and guard the constitutional 
 ramparts about liberty. When its friends become indolent or dis- 
 heartened, it is no longer of any importance how long-lived are its 
 enemies: they will prove immortal. 
 
 Mtatf).— Bryant. 
 CO live, that, when thy summons comes to join 
 
 The innumerable caravan, that moves 
 To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
 Scourged to his dungeon ; but sustain'd and sooth'd 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
 Like one that draws the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 Befot Franklin. 
 
 /CREDITORS have better memories than Debtors ; and Creditors 
 are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times. 
 
 Btlt — Sir M. Hale. 
 "DUN not into Debt, either for wares sold, or money borrowed; 
 be content to want things that are not of absolute necessity, 
 rather than to run up the score. 
 
 HBeut, — Chesterfield. 
 A MAN who owes a little can clear it off in a very little time, 
 and, if he is a prudent man, he will : whereas a man, who, by 
 long negligence, owes a great deal, despairs of ever being able to 
 pay, and therefore never looks into his accounts at all. 
 
 MM.— Franklin. 
 T'HINK — think what you do when you run in debt; you give to 
 another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, 
 you will be ashamed to see your creditor ; you will be in fear when 
 you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, 
 and by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, 
 downright lying ; for the second vice is lying, the first is running in 
 debt, as Poor Richard says ; and again, to the same purpose, Lying 
 rides upon Debt's back; whereas a freeboru Englishman ought not 
 to be ashamed nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But 
 poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is hard 
 for an empty bag to stand upright. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 105 
 
 IBtM Franklin. 
 
 Tt r HAT would you think of that prince, or of that government, 
 who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a gen- 
 tleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude ? 
 Would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as 
 you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your 
 privileges, and such a government tyrannical ? And yet you arc 
 about to put yourself under such tyranny, when you run in debt for 
 such dress ! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to de- 
 prive you of your liberty, by confining you in jail till you shall be 
 able to pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may, per- 
 haps, think little of payment, but as Poor Richard says, Creditors 
 have better memories than debtors; creditors are a superstitious sect, 
 great observers of set days and times. The day comes round before 
 you are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared to 
 satisfy it; or, if you bear your debt in mind, the term, which at 
 first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. 
 Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his 
 shoulders. Those have a short Lent who owe money to be paid at 
 Easter. 
 
 BefctS. — Fuller. 
 T OSE not thy own for want of asking for it; 'twill get thee no 
 thanks. 
 
 DCCBH. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Look to her, Moor ; have a quick eye to see : 
 She has deceived her Father, and may thee. 
 
 Defence Skakspeare. 
 
 TN causes of Defence, 'tis best to weigh 
 
 The enemy more mighty than he seems; 
 So the proportions of Defence are fill'd ; 
 Which of a weak and niggardly projection 
 Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting 
 A little cloth. 
 
 DeftCenCC. — Shenstone. 
 T)EFERENCE is the most complicate, the most indirect, and the 
 most elegant of all Compliments. 
 
 Deference. — Shenstone. 
 "PREFERENCE often shrinks and withers as much upon the ap- 
 proach of Intimacy, as the sensitive plant does upon the touch 
 of one's finger. 
 
 Cf)e Sett}). — Milton. 
 
 And thou, Spirit, that dost prefer, 
 
 Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 
 Instruct me, for thou know'st. 
 
10(3 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3If)C Dettp. — Prior. 
 Repine not, nor reply : 
 View not what Heaven ordains with Reason's eye, 
 Too bright the object is; the distance is too high. 
 The man, who would resolve the work of Fate, 
 May limit number, and make crooked straight: 
 Stop thy inquiry then, and curb thy sense, 
 Nor let dust argue with Omnipotence. 
 
 Cf)e Btity.— Prior. 
 "PROM Nature's constant or eccentric laws, 
 
 The thoughtful soul this general inference draws, 
 That an Effect must presuppose a Cause : 
 And, while she does her upward flight sustain, 
 Touching each link of the continued chain, 
 At length she is obliged and forced to see 
 A First, a Source, a Life, a Deity ; 
 What has for ever been, and must for ever be. 
 
 Cf)e ©Cttj). — Thomson. 
 A ND yet was every faltering tongue of man, 
 
 Almighty Father ! silent in thy praise ! 
 Thy works themselves would raise a general voice, 
 Even in the depth of solitary woods 
 By human foot untrod, proclaim thy power, 
 And to the quire celestial Thee resound, 
 The eternal Cause, Support, and End of all ! 
 
 2Tf)e BettJ). — Thomson. 
 TTAIL, Source of Being ! Universal Soul 
 
 Of Heaven and Earth! Essential Presence, hail! 
 To Thee I bend the knee; to Thee my thoughts 
 Continual climb; who, with a Master hand, 
 Hast the great whole into perfection touch'd. 
 
 Cf)e BettJ?. — Thomson. 
 "VITITH what an awful world-revolving power 
 
 Were first the unwieldy planets launch'd along 
 The illimitable void ! Thus to remain, 
 Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
 That oft has swept the toiling race of men 
 And all their labour'd monuments away, 
 Firm, unremitting, matchless in their course; 
 To the kind-temper'd change of Night and Day, 
 And of the Seasons ever stealing round, 
 Minutely faithful: Such the all-perfect Hand! 
 That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. m 
 
 2Tf)e Settg. — Cowper. 
 TN the vast, and the minute, we see 
 
 The unambiguous footsteps of the God, 
 Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing, 
 And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds. 
 
 53claj). — Shakspeare. 
 f\ THAT comfort comes too late; 
 
 ; Tis like a pardon after execution : 
 That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me; 
 But now I am past all comfort here, but prayers. 
 
 HBtiitatS. — GreviUe. 
 
 Y\TEAK men often, from the very principle of their weakness, 
 derive a certain Susceptibility, Delicacy, and Taste, which 
 render them, in those particulars, much superior to men of stronger 
 and more consistent minds, who laugh at them. 
 
 BeltCacp, — Novalis. 
 CIIAME is a feeling of profanation. Friendship, Love, and Piety 
 ought to be handled with a sort of mysterious secrecy; they 
 ought to be spoken of only in the rare moments of perfect confi- 
 dence — to be mutually understood in silence. Many things are 
 too delicate to be thought; many more, to be spoken. 
 
 Cf)e TBtlUQt. — Byron. 
 TTIE Heavens and Earth are mingling — God ! God ! 
 
 What have we done ? yet spare ! 
 Hark ! even the forest beasts howl forth their pray'r ! 
 The dragon crawls from out his den, 
 To herd in terror innocent with men; 
 And the birds scream their agony through air. 
 
 DclUStOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 YITHEN our vices quit us, we natter ourselves with the belief that 
 it is we who quit them. 
 
 Delusion. — Ootam. 
 
 Y\ r E strive as hard to hide our hearts from ourselves as from 
 others, and always with more success; for in deciding upon 
 our own case, we are both judge, jury, and executioner; and where 
 Sophistry cannot overcome the first, or Flattery the second, Self- 
 love is always ready to defeat the sentence by bribing the third; a 
 bribe that in this case is never refused, because she always comes 
 up to the price. 
 
 DclUSlOtt. — &> Philip Sidney. 
 TT many times falls out, that we deem ourselves much deceived in 
 others, because we first deceived ourselves. 
 
 k2 
 
108 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Delusion. — Shakspeare. 
 0, who can hold a fire in his hand, 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
 By bare Imagination of a feast? 
 Or wallow naked in December snow, 
 By thinking on fantastic Summer's heat ? 
 no ! the apprehension of the good 
 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : 
 Fell Sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, 
 Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. 
 
 DetotOn- — Shakspeare. 
 'THIS is the excellent Foppery of the World ! that, when we are 
 sick in fortune, (often the surfeit of our own behaviour,) we 
 make guilty of our disasters, the sun, the moon, and the stars : as 
 if we were villains by necessity ; fools, by heavenly compulsion ; 
 knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance ; drunk- 
 ards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary 
 influence ; and all that we are evil in by a divine thrusting on. 
 
 B elUStOTt. — Shakspeare. 
 T)ANGrEROUS Conceits are, in their natures, poisons, 
 
 Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste; 
 But with a little act upon the blood, 
 Burn like the mines of sulphur. 
 
 B elUStOn. — Shakspeare. 
 thoughts of men accurst ! 
 Past, and to come, seem best; things present, worst. 
 
 DelUSion. — Fronde. 
 TTOW oft that Virtue, which some Women boast, 
 
 And pride themselves in, is but an Empty Name, 
 No real good : in thought alone possessed. 
 Safe in the want of charms, the homely Dame, 
 Secure from the seducing arts of man, 
 Deceives herself, and thinks she's passing chaste ; 
 Wonders how others e'er could fall, yet when 
 She talks most loud about the noisy nothing, 
 Look on ber Face, and there you read her Virtue. 
 
 DelUSion. — Shakspeare. 
 
 For love of Grace, 
 Lay not that flattering unction to your soul; 
 It will but skin and film the ulcerous place; 
 Whiles rank Corruption, mining all within, 
 Infects unseen. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 109 
 
 Cf)e IBemagoflue.— Sir A. Hunt. 
 
 T DO despise these Demagogues, that fret 
 The angry Multitude : they are but as 
 The froth upon the mountain-wave — the bird 
 That shrieks upon the sullen tempest's wing. 
 
 BemOCraCg. — Fisher Ames. 
 TNTELLECTUAL superiority is so far from conciliating confi- 
 dence, that it is the very spirit of a democracy, as in France, to 
 proscribe the aristocracy of talents. To be the favourite of an igno- 
 rant multitude, a man must descend to their level ; he must desire 
 what they desire, and detest all they do not approve : he must yield 
 to their prejudices, and substitute them for principles. Instead of 
 enlightening their errors, he must adopt them; he must furnish the 
 sophistry that will propagate and defend them. 
 
 American Democracy.— Jefferson. 
 
 TTQUAL and exact justice to all men, of whatever state or persua- 
 sion, religious or political ; peace, commerce, and honest friend- 
 ship with all nations, entangling alliances with none ; the support 
 of the state governments in all their rights, as the most competent 
 administrations for our domestic concerns, and the surest bulwarks 
 against anti-republican tendencies ; the preservation of the general 
 government in its whole constitutional vigour, as the sheet-anchor 
 of our peace at home, and safety abroad ; a jealous care of the right 
 of election by the people ; a mild and safe corrective of abuses, 
 which are lopped by the sword of revolution where peaceable reme- 
 dies are unprovided ; absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the 
 majority, the vital principle of republics, from which there is no 
 appeal but to force, the vital principle and immediate parent of des- 
 potism ; a well disciplined militia, our best reliance in peace, and 
 for the first moments of war, till regulars may relieve them ; the 
 supremacy of the civil over the military authority ; economy in the 
 public expense, that labour may be lightly burdened ; the honest 
 payment of our debts, and sacred preservation of the public faith; 
 encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce, as its handmaid ; 
 the diffusion of information, and arraignment of all abuses at the 
 bar of the public reason ; freedom of religion ; freedom of the press; 
 and freedom of person, under the protection of the habeas corpus ; 
 and trial by juries impartially selected. 
 
 iDepUtg. — Shakspeare. 
 J^ SUBSTITUTE shines brightly as a King, 
 
 Until a King be by; and then his state 
 Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 
 Into the main of waters. 
 
110 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 BeStre. — Shakspeare. 
 All impediments in Fancy's course 
 Are motives of more Fancy. 
 
 BeSOlatUm. — Byron. 
 
 My mother Earth ! 
 And thou, fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, 
 Why are ye beautiful ? I cannot love ye. 
 And thou, the bright eye of the Universe, 
 That openest over all, and unto all 
 Art a delight — thou shin'st not on my heart. 
 
 BeSOlattOn. — Maturin. 
 THHE fountain of my heart dried up within me; 
 
 With naught that loved me, and with naught to love, 
 I stood upon the desert earth alone. 
 And in that deep and utter Agony, 
 Though then than ever most unfit to die, 
 I fell upon my knees, and pray'd for Death. 
 
 BttlOlatUm. — Thomson. 
 jJNHAPPY he ! who from the first of joys 
 
 Society, cut off, is left alone 
 Amid this world of Death. Day after day, 
 Sad on the jutting eminence he sits, 
 And views the main that ever toils below; 
 Still fondly forming in the farthest verge, 
 Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 
 Ships, dira-discover'd, dropping from the clouds; 
 At evening, to the setting sun he turns 
 A mournful eye, and down his dying heart 
 Sinks helpless. 
 
 Bespatr.— miton. 
 
 All Hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace; what worse? 
 For where no Hope is left, is left no Fear. 
 
 SeSpatr. — Joanna BaiU'x. 
 T>E it what it may, or bliss, or torment, 
 
 Annihilation, dark and endless rest, 
 Or some dread thing, man's wildest range of thought 
 Hath never yet conceived, that change I'll dare 
 Which makes me any thing but what I am. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. Ill 
 
 SeSpatC— Thomson. 
 Tis late before 
 The brave Despair. 
 
 Despair. — miton. 
 
 "V/TE miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite Despair ? 
 Which way T fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ? 
 And in the lowest deep a lower deep 
 Still threat ning to devour me opens wide, 
 To which the Hell I sutler seems a Heaven. 
 
 Despair. — Shakspeare. 
 I am one, 
 Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world 
 Have so incensed, that I am reckless what 
 I do to spite the world. 
 
 And I another, 
 So weary with disasters, tugg'd with Fortune, 
 That I would set my life on any chance, 
 To mend it or be rid on't. 
 
 So cowards fight, when they can fly no farther; 
 So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons ; 
 So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, 
 Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. 
 
 Bespatr.— BeatUe. 
 ~T)READFUL is their doom, whom doubt has driven 
 
 To censure Fate, and pious Hope forego : 
 Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven, 
 Perfection, Beauty, Life, they never know, 
 But frown on all that pass, a Monument of Wo. 
 
 Bt$$m.— Collier. 
 J^ESPAIR makes a despicable figure, and descends from a mean 
 original. 'Tis the offspring of Fear, of Laziness, and Impa- 
 tience; it argues a defect of spirit and resolution, and oftentimes 
 of honesty too. I would not despair, unless I saw misfortune 
 recorded in the Book of Fate, and signed and sealed by necessity. 
 
 MtBVm.— Greoitte. 
 J)ESPAIR gives the shocking ease to the Mind, that a mortifi 
 cation gives to the Body. 
 
 Cf)e DesptSetr — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 It is only those who are despicable who fear being despised 
 
112 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Spiritual l&tBpotwm.—MUton. 
 
 THHEX shall they seek to avail themselves of names, 
 
 Places, and titles, and with these to join 
 Secular pow'r, though feigning still to act 
 By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 
 The Spirit of God, promised alike and given 
 To all believers ; and from that pretence, 
 Spiritual Laws by Carnal Power shall force 
 On every conscience; laws which none shall find 
 Left them enroll'd, or what the spirit within 
 Shall on the heart engrave. 
 
 Spiritual Despotism*— MOUm. 
 
 TV^OLVES shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
 
 Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven 
 To their own vile advantages shall turn 
 Of lucre and ambition, and the Truth 
 With superstitions and traditions taint. 
 
 Df.Stinp. — Robert Hall. 
 'THE wheels of Nature are not made to roll backward : every 
 thing presses on toward Eternity : from the birth of Time an 
 impetuous current has set in, which bears all the sons of men 
 towards that interminable ocean. Meanwhile Heaven is attracting 
 to itself whatever is congenial to its nature, is enriching itself by 
 the spoils of Earth, and collecting within its capacious bosom 
 whatever is pure, permanent, and divine. 
 
 Destiny). — Cotton, 
 r)UR minds are as different as our faces; we are all travelling to 
 one Destination — Happiness ; but few are going by the same 
 road. 
 
 SeSttttg. — Cumberland. 
 T DO not mean to expose my ideas to ingenious ridicule by main- 
 taining that every thing happens to every man for the best; 
 but I will contend, that he who makes the best use of it, fulfils 
 the part of a wise and good man. 
 
 Ditt. — Franklin. 
 
 TN general, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eat about 
 twice as much as nature requires. 
 
 DtCt. — Sir W. Temple. 
 A LL courageous animal? are carnivorous, and greater courage is 
 to be expected in a people, such as the English, whose Fool is 
 strong and hearty, than in the half-starved commonalty of other 
 countries. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 118 
 
 Mitt. — Burton. 
 1700D improperly taken, not only produces original diseases, but 
 affords those that are already engendered both matter and sus- 
 tenance; so that, let the father of disease be what it may, In- 
 temperance is certainly its mother. 
 
 Bitt — Pliny. 
 QIMPLE Diet is best; — for many Dishes bring many diseases; 
 and rich Sauces are worse than even heaping several Meats upon 
 each other. 
 
 Mitt — Horace. 
 'THE chief pleasure (in Eating) does not consist in costly Season- 
 ing, or exquisite Flavour, but in yourself. Do you seek for 
 Sauce by sweating. 
 
 Z&itt. — Shakspeare. 
 THE veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then 
 
 We pout upon the morning, are unapt 
 To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff d 
 These pipes, and these conveyances of our blood, 
 With Wine and Feeding, we have suppler souls 
 Than in our priest-like fasts. 
 
 diligence. — Franklin. 
 \yHAT though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich re- 
 lation left you a legacy. Diligence is the mother of good 
 luck, and God gives all things to industry. Then plough deep 
 while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep. 
 Work while it is called to-day, for you know not how much you 
 may be hindered to-morrow. One to-day is worth two to-morrows, 
 as Poor Richard says; and further, never leave that till to-morrow 
 which you can do to-day. 
 
 SKnUlg*— Johnson. 
 
 "QEFORE Dinner, men meet with great inequality of understand- 
 ing; and those who are conscious of their inferiority have the 
 modesty not to talk : when they have drunk Wine, every man feels 
 himself happy, and loses that modesty, and grows impudent and 
 vociferous; but he is not improved; he is only not sensible of his 
 defects. 
 
 discernment. — Greviiie. 
 
 T)ISCERNMENT is a power of the understanding in which few 
 excel. Is not that owing to its connection with Impartiality 
 and Truth? for are not Prejudice and Partiality blind? 
 
 Bmivlint. — Seneca. 
 
 \TO evil propensity of the human heart is so powerful that it may 
 not be subdued by Discipline. 
 
114 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Bimpline.—Anon. 
 
 J)ISCIPLINE, like the bridle in the hand of a good rider, should 
 exercise its influence without appearing to do so; should be 
 ever active, both as a support and as a restraint, yet seem to lie 
 easily in hand. It must always be ready to check or to pull up, 
 as occasion may require; and only when the horse is a runaway, 
 should the action of the curb be perceptible. 
 
 Bimvlint. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Now, as fond fathers, 
 Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch, 
 Only to stick it in their children's sight, 
 For terror, not to use; in time the rod 
 Becomes more mock'd than fear'd : so our decrees, 
 Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead; 
 And Liberty plucks Justice by the nose ; 
 The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart 
 Goes all Decorum. 
 
 StSCtplme. — Shakspeare. 
 Had doting Priam check'd his son's desire, 
 Troy had been bright with fame, and not with fire. 
 
 BiztmUnt.— Bishop Hail 
 
 'THE Malecontent is neither well, full nor fasting; and though he 
 abound with complaints, yet nothing dislikes him but the present; 
 for what he condemns while it was, once passed, he magnifies and 
 strives to recall it out of the jaws of time. What he hath he seeth 
 not, his eyes are so taken up with what he wants; and what he sees 
 he careth not for, because he cares so much for that which is not. 
 
 33t0COC"b. — Peter Pindar. 
 T^ISCORD, a sleepless hag, who never dies, 
 
 With snipe-like nose, aud ferret-glowiug eyes; 
 Lean, sallow cheeks, long chin, with beard supplied, 
 Poor vi crackling joints, and wither'd parchment hide, 
 As if old drums, worn out with martial din, 
 Had clubb'd their yellow heads to form her skin. 
 
 StgCOCtl. — Shakspeare. 
 TPHIS late Dissension, grown betwixt the peers, 
 
 Burns under feign'd ashes of forged love, 
 And will at last break out into a flame, 
 As fester'd members rot but by degrees, 
 Till bones, and flesh, and sinews, fall away, 
 So will this base and envious Discord breed. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 115 
 
 BtSCOttiance. — Shakspeare. 
 How sour sweet Music is, 
 When Time is broke, and no Proportion kept! 
 So is it in the Music of Men's Lives. 
 
 Siscoberg.— Coiton. 
 
 TT has been asked, which are the greatest minds, and to which 
 do we owe the greatest reverence ? To those who by the 
 powerful deductions of their Reason, and the well-grounded sugges- 
 tions of Analogy, have made profound discoveries in the sciences, 
 as it were d priori ; or to those, who, by the patient road of 
 Experiment, and the subsequent improvement of instruments, have 
 brought these discoveries to perfection, as it were d posteriori? 
 Who have rendered that certain which before was only conjectural, 
 practical which was problematical, safe which was dangerous, and 
 subservient which was unmanageable ? It would seem that the 
 first class demand our admiration, and the second our gratitude. 
 Seneca predicted another hemisphere, but Columbus presented us 
 with it. 
 
 ©tscobertes.— Coiton. 
 
 TT is a mortifying truth, and ought to teach the wisest of us 
 humility, that many of the most valuable Discoveries have been 
 the result of chance, rather than of contemplation, and of accident 
 rather than of design. 
 
 Discretion. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 TEST not openly at those that are simple, but remember how 
 much thou art bound to God, who hath made thee wiser. 
 Defame not any woman publicly, though thou know her to be evil; 
 for those that are faulty cannot endure to be taxed, but will seek 
 to be avenged of thee; and those that are not guilty, cannot endure 
 unjust reproach. As there is nothing more shameful and dishonest 
 than to do wrong, so truth itself cutteth his throat that carrieth 
 her publicly in every place. Remember the divine saying, he that 
 keepeth his mouth, keepeth his life. 
 
 Mztutinn. — Hume. 
 
 r rHE greatest parts without Discretion may be fatal to theii 
 owner; as Polyphemus, deprived of his eye, was only the 
 more exposed on account of his enormous strength and stature. 
 
 discretion. — Zimmerman. 
 QPEN your mouth and purse cautiously ; and your stock of 
 wealth and reputation shall, at least in repute, be great. 
 
 L 
 
116 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ZBmxttion. — Coiton. 
 
 TF a cause be good, the most violent attack of its enemies will not 
 injure it so much as an injudicious defence of it by its friends. 
 Theodoret and others, who gravely defend the monkish miracles, 
 and the luminous cross of Constantine, by their zeal without 
 knowledge, and devotion without Discretion, have hurt the cause 
 of Christianity more by such friendship than the apostate Julian 
 by his hostility, notwithstanding all the wit and vigour with which 
 it was conducted. 
 
 IBtSCrettOn. —Addison. 
 'THERE are many more shining qualities in the mind of man, but 
 there is none so useful as Discretion ; it is this indeed which 
 gives a value to all the rest, which sets them at work in their 
 proper times and places, and turns them to the advantage of the 
 person who is possessed of them. Without it, Learning is Pedantry 
 and Wit Impertinence ; Virtue itself looks like Weakness ; the 
 best parts only qualify a man to be more sprightly in errors, and 
 active to his own prejudice. 
 
 iBiSCUSStOn.— Bishop Watson. 
 T^THOSOEVER is afraid of submitting any Question, civil or 
 religious, to the test of free Discussion, is more in love with 
 his own opinion than with Truth. 
 
 Mi$W8t8. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Diseases, desperate grown, 
 By desperate appliances are relieved, 
 Or not at all. 
 
 Btsinterestetmess. — Anon. 
 
 TV/TEN of the world hold that it is impossible to do a Disinterested 
 Action, except from an Interested Motive; for the sake of 
 admiration, if for no grosser, more tangible gain. Doubtless they 
 are also convinced, that, when the sun is showering light from the 
 sky, he is only standing there to be stared at. 
 
 33 imputation. — Socrates. 
 TF thou continuest to take delight in idle Argumentation, thou 
 mayst be qualified to combat with the Sophists, but wilt never 
 know how to live with men. 
 
 dFamilg UBiSSenSion. — From the Latin. 
 T^ROM what stranger can you expect attachment, if you are at 
 variance with your own Relations ? 
 
 ©iSSintUlation. —La Bruyere. 
 TYTSSIMULATION, even the most innocent in its nature, is 
 ever productive of embarrassment ; whether the design is evil 
 or not, artifice is always dangerous and almost inevitablj' dis- 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 117 
 
 graceful. The best and the most safe policy is, never to have re- 
 course to Deception, to avail yourself of Quirks, or to practise low- 
 Cunning, and to prove yourself in every circumstance of your life 
 equally upright and sincere. This system is naturally that which 
 noble minds will adopt, and the dictates of an enlightened and su- 
 perior understanding would be sufficient to insure its adoption. 
 
 BUESStmulatiOtt. —Lord Bacon. 
 J)ISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy or wisdom j for 
 it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know when to tell 
 truth, and to do it : therefore it is the weaker sort of politicians 
 that are the greatest Dissemblers. 
 
 DOCtlttg. — Manlius. 
 A Docile Disposition will, with application, surmount every diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 Dogmatism.— Hume. 
 
 \\THERE men are the most sure and arrogant, they are com- 
 monly the most mistaken, and have there given reins to 
 passion, without that proper deliberation and suspense, which can 
 alone secure them from the grossest absurdities. 
 
 BxamZ.—Coicper. 
 
 Ten thousand Casks, 
 For ever dribbling out their base contents, 
 Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, 
 Bleed gold for Ministers to sport away. 
 Drink and be mad then. ; Tis your Country bids. 
 Gloriously drunk, obey th' important call, 
 Her cause demands th' assistance of your Throats : 
 Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more. 
 
 Dreaming. —Novoli*. 
 
 We are near waking, when we dream that we dream. 
 
 Dreams. — ShaJcspeare. 
 TF I may trust the flattering truth of Sleep, 
 
 My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: 
 My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne, 
 And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit 
 Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. 
 I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead, 
 (Strange Dream ! that gives a dead man leave to think,) 
 And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, 
 That I revived, and was an emperor. 
 Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possest, 
 When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ? 
 
118 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Duamz.— Coiton. 
 
 METAPHYSICIANS have been learning their lesson for tho 
 last four thousand years, and it is high time that they should 
 now begin to teach us something. Can any of the tribe inform us 
 why all the operations of the mind are carried on with undiminished 
 strength and activity in Dreams, except the Judgment, which alone 
 is suspended, and dormant. This faculty of the mind is in a state 
 of total inefficiency during Dreams. Let any man carefully examine 
 his own experience on this subject, and he will find that the most 
 glaring incongruities of time, the most palpable contradictions of 
 place, and the grossest absurdities of circumstance, are most glibly 
 swallowed down by the Dreamer, without the slightest dissent or 
 demurrage of the Judgment. The moment we are wide awake the 
 Judgment reassumes her functions, and shocks us with surprise at 
 a credulity that even in sleep could reconcile such a tissue of 
 inconsistencies. 
 
 23 Watttg. — Shakspeare. 
 T'HY spirit within thee hath been so at war, 
 
 And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy Sleep 
 That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow, 
 Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; 
 And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, 
 Such as we see when men restrain their breath 
 On some great sudden haste. 
 
 BreamS,— Dryden. 
 T)REAMS are but interludes which Fancy makes. 
 
 When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes : 
 Compounds a medly of disjointed things, 
 A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings : 
 Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad 
 Both are the reasonable soul run mad : 
 And many monstrous forms in Sleep we see, 
 That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be. 
 Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind, 
 Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind. 
 
 3&KZ%$* — Shakspeare. 
 \\rHAT, is the Jay more precious than the Lark 
 
 Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
 Or is the Adder better than the Eel, 
 Because his painted skin contents the eye? 
 Oh no, good Kate ; neither art thou the worse 
 For this poor Furniture, and mean Array. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. IIP 
 
 Dreams — Shakspeare. 
 TYREAMS are the children of an idle brain, 
 
 Begot of nothing but vain Fantasy ; 
 Which is as thin of substance as the air; 
 And more inconstant than the wind. 
 
 DreSS. — Sir Jonah Barrington. 
 T)RESS has a moral effect upon the conduct of mankind. Let any 
 gentleman find himself with dirty Boots, old Surtout, soiled 
 Neckcloth, and a general negligence of Dress, he will, in all proba- 
 bility, find a corresponding disposition by negligence of address. 
 
 DtCSS. — Cotpper. 
 \\TE sacrifice to Dress, till household joys 
 
 And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, 
 And keeps our larder lean. Puts out our fires, 
 And introduces Hunger, Frost, and Wo, 
 Where Peace and Hospitality might reign. 
 
 2Bte$0. — Goldsmith. 
 
 PROCESSIONS, Cavalcades, and all that fund of gay Frippery, 
 
 furnished out by tailors, barbers, and tire-women, mechanically 
 
 influence the mind into veneration : an emperor in his night-cap 
 
 would not meet with half the respect of an emperor with a crown. 
 
 Drototthtg. — Shakspeare. 
 C\ LORD ! methought what pain it was to drown ! 
 
 What dreadful noise of Water in my ears ! 
 What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! 
 Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks, 
 A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon. 
 
 Unftgetjg.— Longfellow. 
 
 '"THE every-day cares and duties, which men call drudgery, are 
 the weights and counterpoises of the clock of time, giving its pen- 
 dulum a true vibration, and its hands a regular motion; and when 
 they cease to hang upon the wheels, the pendulum no longer 
 swings, the hands no longer move, the clock stands still. 
 
 Drunkenness. — ShensUme. 
 
 pEOPLE say, "Do not regard what he says, now he is in liquor." 
 Perhaps it is the only time he ought to be regarded : Aperit, 
 prsecordia liber. 
 
 Drunkenness. — Coiton. 
 
 J)RUNKENNESS is the vice of a good Constitution, or of a bad 
 Memory ; of a Constitution so treacherously good, that it never 
 bends until it breaks ; or of a Memory that recollects the pleasures 
 of getting drunk, or forgets the pains of getting sober. 
 
 l2 
 
120 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 DtUttkcniUSg. — Shakspcare. 
 Q THOU invisible spirit of Wine, if thou hast no name to be 
 known by, let us call thee — Devil ! * * * 0, that men 
 should put an enemy to their mouths, to steal away their brains! 
 that we should, with joy, revel, pleasure, and applause, transform 
 ourselves into beasts ! 
 
 Drunkenness. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 TT were better for a man to be subject to any vice, than to Drunk- 
 enness : for all other vanities and sins are recovered, but a 
 Drunkard willnever shake off the delight of Beastliness; for the 
 longer it possesseth a man, the more he will delight in it, and the 
 elder he groweth the more he shall be subject to it; for it dulleth 
 the spirits, and destroyeth the body as ivy doth the old tree; or as 
 the worm that engendereth in the kernel of the nut. 
 
 Drunkenness. — Shakspeare. 
 T^THATS a Drunken Man like? Like a drown'd man, a fool, 
 and a madman : one draught above heat makes him a fool ; 
 the second mads him ; and a third drowns him. 
 
 Dull i^len. — Bishop Earle. 
 (^j-REAT brains (like brightest glass) crack straight, while those 
 
 Of stone or wood hold out, and fear no blows; 
 And we their ancient hoary heads can see 
 Whose Wit was never their Mortality. 
 
 Dull iften. — Saville. 
 A DULL Man is so near a dead man, that he is hardly to be 
 ranked in the list of the living ; and as he is not to be buried 
 whilst he is half alive, so he is as little to be employed whilst he is 
 half dead. 
 
 Duping. — Bulwer Lytton. 
 HTHE surest way of making a Dupe is to let your Victim suppose 
 that you are his. 
 
 Dupltettg. — Shakspeare. 
 C\ WHAT may man within him hide, 
 Though angel on the outward side ! 
 How many Likeness, made in crimes, 
 Making practice on the times, 
 Draw with idle spiders' strings 
 Most pond'rous and substantial things! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 121 
 
 SOftal DllttCS. — Kant. 
 TK)TH Love of Mankind, and Respect for their Rights, are Du- 
 ties ; the former, however, are only a conditional, the latter an 
 unconditional, purely imperative Duty, which he must be perfectly 
 certain not to have transgressed, who would give himself up to the 
 secret emotions arising from Beneficence. 
 
 Dutg.— Anon. 
 F)UTY is above all consequences, and often, at a crisis of diffi- 
 culty, commands us to throw them overboard. Flat Justitfu, 
 pereat mundus. It commands us to look neither to the right, nor 
 to the left, but straight onward. Hence every signal act of Duty 
 is altogether an act of Faith. It is performed in the assurance that 
 God will take care of the consequences, and will so order the course 
 of the world, that, whatever the immediate results may be, His 
 word shall not return to Him empty. 
 
 i3aclg MtStrtg. — Thomson. 
 
 Is there aught in Sleep can charm the wise 
 To ne in dead oblivion, losing half 
 The fleeting moments of too short a life; 
 Total extinction of the enlighten'd soul! 
 Or else to feverish vanity alive, 
 Wilder'd, and tossing thro' distemper'd Dreams? 
 Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
 Longer than nature craves; when ev'ry muse 
 And every blooming pleasure wait without, 
 To bless the wildly devious Morning walk? 
 
 l^arlp Ittstitg.— Coiton. 
 
 OLD men, it would seem, were to be found among those who had 
 travelled, and those who had never been out of their own parish. 
 Excess could produce her veterans, no less than Temperance, since 
 some had kept off the grim tyrant by libations of wine, as success- 
 fully as others by potations of water; and some by copious appli- 
 cations of brandy and of gin seem to have kept off their summons 
 to the Land of Spirits. In short it appeared that many who agreed 
 in scarcely any thing else, agreed in having attained longevity. 
 But there were only two questions, in which they all agreed, and 
 these two questions, when put, were always answered in the affirma- 
 tive by the oldest of those Greenwich and Chelsea pensioners to 
 whom they were proposed. The questions were these : Were you 
 descended from parents of good stamina? and have you been in the 
 habit of Early Rising? Early Rising, therefore, not only gives to 
 us more life in the same number of our years, but adds likewise to 
 their number; and not only enables us to enjoy more of existence 
 in the same measure of time, but increases also the measure. 
 
122 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 IHatlg Ifctgrng. — cwfow. 
 
 XTO man can promise himself even fifty years of life, but any 
 man may, if he please, live in the proportion of fifty years in 
 forty; — let him rise early, that he may have the day before him, 
 and let him make the most of the day, by determining to expend 
 it on two sorts of acquaintance only, — those by whom something 
 may be got, and those from whom somethiug may be learnt. 
 
 IBaWeStneSS. — Anon. 
 HPHE reason why Delivery is of such force, is that, unless a man 
 appears by his outward Look and Gesture to be himself animated 
 by the truths he is uttering, he will not animate his hearers. It is 
 the live coal that kindles others, not the dead. Nay, the same 
 principle applies to all oratory; and what made Demosthenes the 
 greatest of orators, was that he appeared the most entirely possest 
 by the feelings he wished to inspire. The main use of his vrtoxpuus 
 was, that it enabled him to remove the natural hinderances which 
 checked and clogged the stream of those feelings, and to pour them 
 forth with a free and mighty torrent that swept his audience along. 
 The effect produced by Charles Fox, who by the exaggeration of 
 party-spirit was often compared to Demosthenes, seems to have 
 arisen wholly from this earnestness, which made up for the want 
 of almost every grace, both of manner and style. 
 
 ISartfttJUalte. — Shakspeare. 
 TYTSEASED Nature oftentimes breaks forth 
 
 In strange eruptions; and the teeming Earth 
 Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vext, 
 By the imprisoning of unruly wind 
 Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, 
 Shakes the old beldam Earth, and topples down 
 Steeples, and moss-grown towers. 
 
 ISadfjg. — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis but a base ignoble Mind, 
 That mounts no higher than a Bird can soar. 
 
 ISasg Cemper — Grcviiu. 
 
 TT is an unhappy, and yet I fear a true reflection, that they who 
 have uncommon Easiness and Softness of Temper, have seldom 
 very noble and nice sensations of soul. 
 
 iSCOnnrng. _ Hawkesworth. 
 "PCONOMY is the parent of Integrity, of Liberty, and of Ease; 
 and the beauteous sister of Temperance, of Cheerfulness, and 
 Health : and Profuseness is a cruel and crafty demon, that gradually 
 involves her followers in dependence and debts; that is, fetters 
 them with "irons that enter into their souls." 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 122 
 
 lEtmcatton. — Coiton. 
 
 TT is adverse to talent, to be consorted and trained up with in- 
 ferior minds, or inferior companions, however high they may rank.. 
 The foal of the racer neither finds out his speed, nor calls out hit; 
 powers, if pastured out with the common herd, that are destined foi 
 the collar and the yoke. 
 
 13trUCatl0tt Horace. 
 
 [JNLESS your cask is perfectly clean, whatever you pour into it 
 turns sour. 
 
 IStmcattOTX. — GrevOie. 
 THHE more perfect the nature, the more weak, the more wrong, 
 the more absurd, may be the something in a character : to 
 explain the paradox, if a mind is delicate and susceptible, false im- 
 pressions in Education will have a bad effect in proportion to that 
 susceptibility, and consequently may produce an evil which a stupid 
 and insensible nature might have avoided. 
 
 ISfiUCatUm. — Shakspeare. 
 Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow rooted ; 
 Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden, 
 And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. 
 
 IHtlUCattOtt. — Webster. 
 T7"N0WLEDGE does not comprise all which is contained in the 
 large term of education. The feelings are to be disciplined, the 
 passions are to be restrained; true and worthy motives are to be 
 inspired; a profound religious feeling is to be instilled, and pure 
 morality inculcated under all circumstances. All this is comprised 
 in education. 
 
 popular IStJUCatiOtt. — Washington. 
 X>ROMOTE, as an object of primary importance, institutions for 
 the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the struc- 
 ture of a government gives force to public opinion, it should be 
 enlightened. 
 
 ISgOttSHt. — Lavaier. 
 'THE more any one speaks of himself, the less he likes to hear 
 another talked of. 
 
 IHgOttSttt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TTE who thinks he can find in himself the means of doing without 
 others is much mistaken ; but he who thinks that others can- 
 not do without him is still more mistaken. 
 
 ISlOQUeitCe. — Drijden. 
 Your Words are like the notes of dying swans, 
 Too sweet to last ! 
 
124 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Eloquence.— Byron. 
 gINCERE be was — at least you could not doubt it, 
 
 In listening merely to his Voice's Tone. 
 The Devil hath not in all his quiver's choice, 
 An arrow for the heart like a Sweet Voice. 
 
 ISlo pence.— miton. 
 
 His Tongue 
 Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 Maturest counsels 
 
 IBlopenCC. — Havard. 
 Q ELOQUENCE ! thou violated fair, 
 
 How art thou woo'd, and won to either bed 
 Of Right or Wrong ! Oh ! when Injustice folds thee, 
 Dost thou not curse thy charms for pleasing him, 
 And blush at conquest ? 
 
 ISlo pence.— Rowe. 
 
 Oh ! I know 
 Thou hast a tongue to charm the wildest tempers ; 
 Herds would forget to graze, and savage beasts 
 Stand still, and lose their fierceness, but to hear thee, 
 As if they had reflection : and by reason, 
 Forsook a less enjoyment for a greater. 
 
 IHlO QUettCe. — Dryden. 
 When he spoke, what tender Words he used ! 
 So softly, that like flakes of feather'd snow, 
 They melted as they fell. 
 
 IS lo pence. — Coiton. 
 
 EXTEMPORANEOUS and oral harangues will always have this 
 advantage over those that are read from a manuscript ; every 
 burst of Eloquence or spark of genius they may contain, however 
 studied they may have been beforehand, will appear to the audi- 
 ence to be the effect of the sudden inspiration of talent. Whereas 
 similar efforts, when written, although they may not cost the writer 
 half the time in his closet, will never be appreciated as any thing 
 more than the slow efforts of long study and laborious application ; 
 olehunt oleum, esli non oleant! and this circumstance it is that gives 
 such peculiar success to a pointed reply, since the hearers are cer- 
 tain that in this case all study is out of the question, that the Elo- 
 quence arises ex re nata, and that the brilliancy has been elicited 
 from the collision of another mind, as rapidly as the spark from 
 the steel. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 125 
 
 IHlOQUeitCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THERE is as much Eloquence in the Tone of Voice, in the eyes, 
 and in the air of a Speaker, as in his choice of Words. 
 
 IHlcquettCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'TRUE eloquence consists in saying all that is necessary, and 
 nothing but what is necessary. 
 
 ISloqUCnce.— Hare. 
 "lyTANY are ambitious of saying grand things, that is, of being 
 grandiloquent. Eloquence is speaking out ... a quality few 
 esteem, and fewer aim at. 
 
 ISloquence* — steme. 
 
 /^j-REAT is the power of Eloquence ; but never is it so great as 
 when it pleads along with nature, and the culprit is a child 
 strayed from his duty, and returned to it again with tears. 
 
 iSlOQUence,— Webster. 
 TRUE eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot 
 be brought from far. Labour and learning may toil for it, but 
 they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in 
 every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, 
 in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense ex- 
 pression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it — they 
 cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of 
 a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic tires 
 with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the 
 schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, 
 shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their 
 wives, their children, and their country hang on the decision of the 
 hour. Then, words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all 
 elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels re- 
 buked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then, 
 patriotism is eloquent; then, self-devotion is eloquent. The clear 
 conception outrunning the deduction of logic, the high purpose, the 
 firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming 
 from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man 
 onward, right onward to his object — this, this is eloquence ; or 
 rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence — it is 
 action, noble, sublime, godlike action. 
 
 ?£mtnettCe. —Addison. 
 TT is a folly for an Eminent Man to think of escaping censure, and 
 a weakness to be affected with it. All the illustrious persons of 
 Antiquity, and indeed of every age in the world, have passed 
 through this fiery persecution. 
 
126 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iSmplOgment. — Young. 
 TIFE'S cares are comforts; such by Heaven design'd ; 
 He that has none, must make them, or be wretched. 
 Cares are Employments; and without Employ 
 The soul is on a rack ; the rack of rest, 
 To souls most adverse ; Action all their joy. 
 
 ISmplOgment. — Burton. 
 EMPLOYMENT, which Galen calls " nature's physician," is so 
 essential to human happiness, that Indolence is justly con- 
 sidered as the mother of Misery. 
 
 .ISmplOgtttent. — La Bruyere. 
 T AZINESS begat wearisomeness, and this put men in quest of 
 diversions, play and company, on which however it is a 
 constant attendant; he who works hard, has enough to do with 
 himself otherwise. 
 
 IHnetgg. — Shakspeare. 
 r)UR remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 
 
 Which we ascribe to Heaven : the fated sky 
 Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull 
 Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. 
 
 IBltecp. —Rowe. 
 'THE wise and active conquer difficulties, 
 
 By daring to attempt them : sloth and folly 
 Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard, 
 And make the impossibility they fear. 
 
 _ yZnglUXitS.— Shakspeare. 
 Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull? 
 On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, 
 Killing their fruit with frowns ? 
 
 lEnjOgmeitt. — St. Evremond. 
 TMPERFECT Enjoyment is attended with regret; a surfeit of 
 pleasure with disgust. There is a certain nick of time, a 
 certain medium to be observed, with which few people are ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 IHnjOgtttent. —Horace. 
 PJUSY yourself not in looking forward to the events of to- 
 morrow; but whatever may be those of the days Providence 
 may yet assign you, neglect not to turn them to advantage. 
 
 iSnti)U0taiSm. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 J7NLIST the interests of stern Morality and religious Enthusiasm 
 in the cause of Political Liberty, as in the time of the old 
 Puritans, and it will be irresistible. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 127 
 
 15ntf)U!5taSm.— Kant. 
 "pNTHUSIASM is always connected with the Senses, whatever 
 be the object that excites it. The true strength of Virtue is 
 serenity of mind, combined with a deliberate and steadfast Deter- 
 mination to execute her laws. That is the healthful condition of 
 the Moral Life ; on the other hand, Enthusiasm, even when excited 
 by representations of goodness, is a brilliant but feverish glow, 
 which leaves only exhaustion and languor behind. 
 
 lEntfjustasm. — Coiton. 
 
 'THE Romans laid down their liberties at the feet of Nero, who 
 would not even lend them to Caesar; and we have lately seen 
 the whole French Nation rush as one man from the very extremes 
 of Loyalty, to behead the mildest Monarch that ever ruled them, 
 and conclude a sanguinary career of plunder, by pardoning and 
 rewarding a Tyrant, to whom their blood was but water, and their 
 groans but wind; thus they sacrificed one that died a martyr to 
 his clemency, and they rewarded another, who lived to boast of 
 his murders. 
 
 lEntf)Umasm\ — Fitzosborne. 
 T LOOK upon Enthusiasm, in all other points but that of Religion, 
 to be a very necessary turn of mind; as indeed it is a vein 
 which nature seems to have marked with more or less strength, in 
 the tempers of most men. No matter what the object is, whether 
 Business, Pleasures, or the Fine Arts; whoever pursues them to 
 any purpose, must do so con amore. 
 
 ZEnfywiafim.—Shakspearc. 
 
 I have seen 
 The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind 
 To hear him speak : The matrons flung their gloves, 
 Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs, 
 Upon him as he pass'd : the nobles bended, 
 As to Jove's statue; and the commons made 
 A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts ; 
 I never saw the like. 
 
 lEttttttt.— Byr<m. 
 
 "POR Ennui is a growth of English-root, 
 
 Though nameless in our language : — we retort 
 The fact for words, and let the French translate 
 That awful Yawn which Sleep cannot abate. 
 
 ISnbg. — Ovid. 
 
 J^N VY feeds upon the living ; after death it ceases ; then every 
 man's well-earned Honours defend him against Calumny. 
 
 M 
 
12S ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3Hltbj)» — Spenser. 
 A ND if she hapt of any good to heare, 
 
 That had to any happily betid, 
 Then would she inly fret, and grieve, and teare 
 Her flesh for felnesse, which she inward hid : 
 But if she heard of ill that any did, 
 Or harme that any had, then would she make 
 Great cheare, like one unto a banquet bid; 
 And in another's losse great pleasure take, 
 As she had got thereby, and gayned a great stake. 
 
 IHnb p.— Pope. 
 
 'THERE is some good in Public Envy, whereas in Private there 
 is none; for Public Envy is as an ostracism that eclipseth men 
 when they grow too great; and therefore it is a bridle also to great 
 ones to keep within bounds. 
 
 ISnbg. — Shenstone. 
 "THERE is nothing more universally commended than a fine day; 
 the reason is, that people can commend it without Envy. 
 
 15nbg. — Spenser. 
 TTER hands were foule and durtie, never washt 
 In all her life, with long nayles over raught, 
 Like puttock's clawes, with th' one of which she scratcht 
 
 Her cursed head, although it itched naught; 
 
 The other held a snake with venime fraught, 
 On which she fed and gnawed hungrily, 
 
 As if that long she had not eaten aught; 
 That round about her jawes one might descry 
 The bloudie gore and poyson dropping loathsomely. 
 
 ISnbj). — Lord Clarendon. 
 TF Envy, like Anger, did not burn itself in its own fire, and con- 
 sume and destroy those persons it possesses, before it can destroy 
 those it wishes worst to, it would set the whole world on fire, and 
 leave the most excellent persons the most miserable. 
 
 15nbj). — Colton. 
 T'HE benevolent have the advantage of the Envious, even in this 
 present life; for the Envious is tormented not only by all the 
 ill that befalls himself, but by all the good that happens to another; 
 whereas the benevolent man is the better prepared to bear his own 
 calamities unruffled, from the complacency and serenity he has 
 secured, from contemplating the prosperity of all around him. 
 
 lEnbg. — Colton. 
 THE Hate which we all bear with the most- Christian Patience, is 
 the Hate of those who Envy us. 
 
 J\ 
 
rr ~ =" 
 
 OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 129 
 
 l£nbg. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 O.ENIUS may co-exist with Wildness, Idleness, Folly, even with 
 Crime; but not long, believe me, with Selfishness and the in- 
 dulgence of an Envious Disposition. Envy is xdxL6to$ xal Sixouoraros 
 £foj, as I once saw it expressed somewhere in a page of Stobaeus: 
 it dwarfs and withers its worshippers. 
 
 iEtlbg, — La Rocliefoucauld. 
 eing born with great 
 
 iSnbj). — Clarendon. 
 
 T'HE truest mark of being born with great qualities is being born 
 without Envy. 
 
 "PNVY is a Weed that grows in all soils and climates, and is no 
 less luxuriant in the Country than in the Court; is not confined 
 to any rank of men or extent of fortune, but rages in the breasts 
 of all degrees. Alexander was not prouder than Diogenes; and it 
 may be, if we would endeavour to surprise it in its most gaudy 
 dress and attire, and in the exercise of its full empire and tyranny, 
 we should find it in Schoolmasters and Scholars, or iu some Country 
 Lady, or the Knight her Husband; all which ranks of people more 
 despise their neighbours, than all the degrees of honour in which 
 courts abound : and it rages as much in a sordid affected dress, as 
 in all the silks and embroideries which the excess of the age and 
 the folly of youth delight to be adorned with. Since then, it keeps 
 all sorts of Company, and wriggles itself into the liking of the most 
 contrary natures and dispositions, and yet carries so much poison 
 and venom with it, that it alienates the affections from Heaven, 
 and raises rebellion against God himself, it is worth our utmost 
 care to watch it in all its disguises and approaches, that we may 
 discover it in its first entrance, and dislodge it before it procures a 
 shelter or retiring place to lodge and conceal itself. 
 
 IHttbg.— Colton. 
 T?NVY ought, in strict truth, to have no place whatever allowed 
 it in the heart of man; for the goods of this present world are 
 so vile and low, that they are beneath it; and those of the future 
 world are so vast and exalted, that they are above it. 
 
 ISnbg.— CoUon. 
 
 r rO diminish Envy, let us consider not what others possess, but 
 what they enjoy: mere Riches may be the gift of lucky acci- 
 dent or blind chance, but Happiness must be the result of prudent 
 preference and rational design; the highest Happiness then can 
 have no other foundation than the deepest Wisdom j and the 
 happiest fool is only as happy as he knows how to be. 
 
 9 
 
130 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 T7MULATION looks out for merits, that she may exalt herself by 
 a victory; Envy spies out blemishes, that she may lower another 
 by a defeat. 
 
 IBttbg, — Spenser. 
 
 AND next to him malicious Envy rode 
 
 Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw 
 Between his cankred teeth a venemous tode, 
 That all the poison ran about his jaw; 
 But inwardly he chawed his owne maw 
 At neighbour's welth that made him ever sad; 
 
 For death it was when any good he saw ; 
 And wept, that cause of weeping none he had; 
 And when he heard of harme he wexed wondrous glad. 
 
 3H(JUalttg. — Langstaff. 
 [EQUALITY is one of the most consummate scoundrels that 
 ever crept from the brain of a political juggler — a fellow who 
 thrusts his hand into the pocket of honest Industry or enterprising 
 Talent, and squanders their hard-earned profits on profligate Idle- 
 ness or indolent Stupidity. 
 
 ISQUalttp* — SkaJcspeare. 
 HPAKE but Degree away, untune that string, 
 
 And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 
 In mere oppugnancy : The bounded waters 
 Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 
 And make a sop of all this solid globe : 
 Strength should be lord of Imbecility, 
 And the rude son should strike his father dead : 
 Force should be Right. 
 
 15palttg. — SkaJcspeare. 
 A RE we not Brothers ? 
 
 So man and man should be ; 
 But clay and clay differs in dignity, 
 Whose dust is both alike. 
 
 IBQUalttJ). — SkaJcspeare. 
 T'HE King is but a Man, as I am : the violet smells to him as 
 it doth to me ; the element shews to him as it doth to me ; all 
 his senses have but human conditions : his ceremonies laid by, in 
 his nakedness he appears but a Man ; and though his affections are 
 higher mounted than curs, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with 
 the like win<r. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 131 
 
 " 
 
 iScjUalttl). — From the Latin. 
 TF all men were on an Equality, the consequence would be that all 
 must perish ; for who would till the ground ? who would sow 
 it? who would plant? who would press wine ? 
 
 ISqualttJ). — Johnson. 
 CO far is it from being true that men are naturally equal, that no 
 two people can be half an hour together but one shall acquire 
 an evident Superiority over the other. 
 
 ISqiUbOCattOtt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 But yet, — 
 I do not like but yet, it does allay 
 The good precedence; fye upon but yet : 
 But yet is as a gaoler to bring forth 
 Some monstrous malefactor. 
 
 IHttOT. — Shakspeare. 
 Q HATEFUL Error, Melancholy's child ! 
 
 Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 
 The things that are not ? Error, soon conceived, 
 Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, 
 But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee. 
 
 Ifc&XZtm. — From the French. 
 Many people are Esteemed merely because they are not known. 
 
 IBtemttS. — Addison, 
 
 JjYTERNITY, thou pleasing dreadful Thought! 
 
 Thro' what variety of untried beings, 
 Thro' what new scenes and changes must we pass? 
 The wide, the unbounded Prospect lies before me ; 
 But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. 
 
 ISteWttg.— Dowe. 
 J]TERNITY, thou awful Gulph of Time, 
 
 This wide creation on thy surface floats. 
 Of life — of death — what is, or what shall be, 
 I nothing know. The world is all a dream, 
 The consciousness of something that exists, 
 Yet is not what it seems. Then what am I? 
 Death must unfold the mystery ! 
 
 IStetttttg. — Cotton. 
 jTE that will often put Eternity and the World before him, and 
 who will dare to look steadfastly at both of them, will find 
 that the more often he contemplates them, the former will grow 
 greater and the latter less. 
 
 m2 
 
132 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 lEteOtttS.— Cotton. 
 
 A LAS ! what is Man? whether he be deprived of that light which 
 is from on high, or whether he discard it ; a frail and trem- 
 bling creature, standing on Time, that bleak and narrow isthmus 
 between two Eternities, he sees nothing but impenetrable Darkness 
 on the one hand, and Doubt, Distrust, and Conjecture still more 
 perplexing on the other. Most gladly would he take an observa- 
 tion, as to whence he has come, or whither he is going. Alas, he 
 has not the means; his telescope is too dim, his compass too waver- 
 ing, his plummet too short. Nor is that little spot, his present 
 state, one whit more intelligible, since it may prove a quicksand 
 that may sink in a moment from his feet; it can afford him no 
 certain reckoning, as to that immeasurable ocean that he may have 
 traversed, or that still more formidable one that he must. 
 
 IStentttJ), — Burnet 
 T^THAT is this Life but a circulation of little mean actions ? We 
 lie down and rise again, dress and undress, feed and wax 
 hungry, work or play, and are weary, and then we lie down again, 
 and the circle returns. We spend the day in trifles, and when the 
 night comes we throw ourselves into the bed of folly, among dreams, 
 and broken thoughts, and wild imaginations. Our reason lies 
 asleep by us, and we are for the time as arrant brutes as those that 
 sleep in the stalls, or in the field. Are not the capacities of man 
 higher than these? And ought not his ambition and expectations 
 to be greater? Let us be adventurers for another world. It is at 
 least a fair and noble chance; and there is nothing in this worth 
 our thoughts or our passions. If we should be disappointed, we 
 are still no worse than the rest of our fellow-mortals'; and if we 
 succeed in our expectations, we are eternally happy. 
 
 ISttqiiette, — Shakspedre. 
 
 Unbidden Guests 
 Are often welcomest when they are gone. 
 
 lEbaj&m. — Lavater. 
 
 "INVASIONS are the common shelter of the hard-hearted, the false, 
 and impotent, when called upon to assist; the real great alone 
 plan instantaneous help, even when their looks or words presage 
 difficulties. 
 
 l^benmg. — Byron. 
 TT is the Hour when from the boughs 
 
 The Nightingale's high note is heard; 
 It is the Hour when lover's vows 
 Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; 
 And gentle winds, and waters near, 
 Make music to the lonely ear. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 16? 
 
 ATS- 
 
 libenmg.— Byron. 
 MABIA! blessed be the Hour! 
 The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft 
 Have felt that moment in its fullest power 
 
 Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, 
 While swung the deep bell in the distant tower, 
 
 Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, 
 And not a breath crept through the rosy air, 
 And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer. 
 Soft Hour! which wakes the wish and melts the heart 
 
 Of those who sail the seas, on the first day 
 When they from their sweet friends are toru apart; 
 
 Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way 
 As the far bell of Vesper makes him start, 
 
 Seeming to weep the dying day's decay; 
 Is this a fancy which our reason scorns? 
 Ah ! surely nothing dies but something mourns! 
 
 l£uentng. — Montgomery. 
 T LOVE thee, Twilight! for thy gleams impart 
 Their dear, their dying influence to my heart, 
 When o'er the harp of thought thy passing wind 
 Awakens all the music of the mind, 
 And joy and sorrow, as the spirit burns, 
 And hope and memory sweep the chords by turns. 
 
 ISbenmg Rt\DS. — Chesteijieid. 
 
 The Dews of the Evening most carefully shun; 
 Those tears of the sky for the loss of the sun. 
 
 ISbil. — Cotton. 
 T ADMIT the existence of Evil to its full extent, and I also admit 
 my own Ignorance, which is not the least part of the Evil I 
 deplore. I also find in the midst of all this Evil, a tolerably fair 
 proportion of Good. I can discover that I did not make myself, 
 and also that the Being that did make me, has shown a degree 
 of power and of wisdom far beyond my powers of comprehension. 
 I can also see so much Good proceeding from his system even here, 
 that I am inclined to love him; but I can see so much Evil, that I 
 am inclined also to fear him. I find myself a compound being, 
 made up of Body and Mind, and the union is so intimate, that the 
 one appears to perish at the dissolution of the other. In attempt- 
 ing to reconcile this last Evil, Death, and the many more that lead 
 to it, with the wisdom, power, and goodness that I see displayed on 
 many other occasions, I find that I have strong aspirings after a 
 state that may survive this apparent dissolution, and I find that I 
 have this feeling in common with all the rest of my species; I find 
 
(34 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 also, on looking within, that I have a mind capable of much higher 
 delight than matter or earth can afford. On looking still more 
 closely into myself, I find every reason to believe that this is the 
 first state of existence I ever enjoyed; I can recollect no other, 
 I am conscious of no other. Here then I stand as upon a point 
 acknowledged, that this world is the first stage of existence to that 
 compound animal Man, and that it is to him at least the first link 
 in that order of things in which Mind is united to Matter. 
 
 ISbtl, — Horace. 
 
 Better one thorn pluck'd out than all remain. 
 
 IHbtl Chalmers. 
 
 ~DY the very constitution of our nature, Moral Evil is its own 
 curse. 
 
 lEbtL— South. 
 TTE who will fight the Devil at his own weapon, must not wonder 
 if he finds him an overmatch. 
 
 lEbtl.— Anon. 
 AS there is a law of continuity, whereby in ascending we can 
 only mount step by step, so is there a law of continuity, 
 whereby they who descend must sink, and that too with an ever 
 increasing velocity. No propagation or multiplication is more rapid 
 than that of Evil, unless it be checked j no growth more certain. He 
 who is in for a Penny, to take another expression belonging to the 
 same family, if he does not resolutely fly, will find he is in for a Pound. 
 
 IsfctL — Horace. 
 
 Fire, for a short time neglected, acquires irresistible force. 
 
 ISblL — Menander. 
 A LL animals are more happy than Man. Look, for instance, on 
 yonder ass : all allow him to be miserable : his Evils, however, 
 are not brought on by himself and his own fault; he feels only 
 those which Nature has inflicted. We, on the contrary, besides 
 our necessary Ills, draw upon ourselves a multitude of others. We 
 are melancholy if any person happen to sneeze ; we are angry if 
 any speak reproachfully of us; one man is affrighted with an un- 
 lucky dream, another at the hooting of an owl. Our Contentions, 
 our Anxieties, our Opinions, our Ambition, our Laws, are all Evils, 
 which we ourselves have superadded to Nature. 
 
 iSbtl. — Shdkspeare. 
 Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word 
 
 ISbtL — Colton. 
 THERE is this of good in real Evils, — they deliver us, while they 
 last, from the petty despotism of all that were imaginary. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 135 
 
 Wbih — CoUon. 
 
 "PYILS in the journey of life are like the hills which alarm 
 travellers upon their road ; they both appear great at a dis- 
 tance, but when we approach them we find that they are far less 
 insurmountable than we had conceived. 
 
 3SutL — La Rochefoucauld. 
 THERE are no circumstances, however unfortunate, that clever 
 people do not extract some advantage from. 
 
 ISxampU. — Proctor. 
 
 I know not how it is ; 
 But a foreboding presses on my heart, 
 At times, until I sicken. — I have heard, 
 And from men learned, that before the touch 
 (The common, coarser touch) of Good, or 111, — 
 That oftentimes a subtler sense informs 
 Some spirits of the approach of "things to be." 
 
 IZxamylt. — Cicero. 
 
 T>E a Pattern to others, and then all will go well ; for as a whole 
 city is infected by the licentious passions and vices of great 
 men, so it is likewise reformed by their moderation. 
 
 ISxample. — Juvenal 
 "PXAMPLES of vicious courses, practised in a domestic circle, 
 corrupt more readily and more deeply, when we behold them 
 in persons in authority. 
 
 ISiample. — Goldsmith. 
 "PEOPLE seldom improve, when they have no other Model but 
 themselves to copy after. 
 
 ISxecllmg. — Coiton. 
 
 TF you want Enemies, excel others; if you want Friends, let others 
 excel you. 
 
 ISlCeUtltg. — La Bruyere. 
 TTE who excels in his art so as to carry it to the utmost height 
 of perfection of which it is capable, may be said in some 
 measure to go beyond it; his transcendent productions admit of no 
 appellations. 
 
 IZXttm. — Horace. 
 TTIE Body oppressed by Excesses, bears down the Mind, and de- 
 presses to the earth any portion of the divine Spirit we had 
 been endowed with. 
 
136 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 l^ITCSSi. — Tacitus. 
 yiTELLIUS possessed all that Pliability and Liberality, which, 
 when not restrained within due Bounds, must ever turn to the 
 ruin of their possessor. 
 
 IHlCeSS. — Shdkspeare. 
 TTEOLENT fires soon burn out themselves. 
 
 Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; 
 He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes ; 
 With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder; 
 Light Vanity, insatiate Cormorant, 
 Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. 
 
 ISlCCSS.— Knox. 
 HPHE misfortune is, that when man has found honey, he enters 
 upon the feast with an appetite so voracious, that he usuallv 
 destroys his own delight by Excess and Satiety. 
 
 IHlCeSS. — Shakspeare. 
 "pVERY Inordinate Cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a 
 devil. 
 
 ?irCCSS. _ Colton. 
 T'HE Excesses of our youth are drafts upon our old age, payable 
 with interest, about thirty years after date. 
 
 IHlTttntUnt. — Goldsmith. 
 T>UT me, not destined such delights to share, 
 
 My prime of life in wandering spent and care : 
 Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue 
 Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view; 
 That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, 
 Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies; 
 My fortune leads to traverse realms alone, 
 And find no spot of all the world my own. 
 
 iBnttal yiXtiUmtnt. — Montaigne. 
 HPHE beasts show us plainly how much our diseases are owing 
 to the Perturbations of our Minds. We are told that the in- 
 habitants of Brazil die merely of old age, owing to the serenity and 
 tranquillity of the air in which they live; but I ascribe it rather to 
 the Serenity and Tranquillity of their Souls, which are free from all 
 Passion, Thought, or laborious and unpleasant Employment. As 
 great enmities spring from great friendships, and mortal distempers 
 from vigorous health, so do the most surprising and the wildest 
 phrensies from the high and lively Agitations of our Souls. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 137 
 
 ISmCKfe. — Coivper. 
 HPHE Sedentary stretch their lazy length 
 
 When custom bids, but no refreshment find, — 
 For none they need : the languid eye, the cheek 
 Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, shrunk, 
 And wither' d muscle, and the vapid soul, 
 Reproach their owner with that Love of Rest 
 To which he forfeits e'en the Rest he loves. 
 
 ISipeCtattCm. — Shakspcare. 
 
 How slow, 
 This old moon wanes : she lingers my desires, 
 Like to a step-dame, or a dowager, 
 Long withering out a young man's revenue. 
 
 ISxpeCtattOn. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 OH ! how Impatience gains upon the soul 
 
 When the long-promised hour of joy draws near! 
 How slow the tardy moments seem to roll ! 
 
 What spectres rise of inconsistent fear ! 
 
 To the fond doubting heart its hopes appear 
 Too brightly fair, too sweet to realize : 
 
 All seem but day-dreams of delight too dear ! 
 Strange hopes and fears in painful contest rise, 
 While the scarce-trusted bliss seems but to cheat the eyes. 
 
 ySxytCtatiQn.—Shakspeare. 
 Oft Expectation fails, and most oft there 
 Where most it promises : and oft it hits 
 Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most sits. 
 
 ^Expectations. —Martial. 
 VOU give me nothing during your life, but you promise to pro- 
 vide for me at your death. If you are not a fool, you know 
 what I wish for. 
 
 lExpeCtattun. — Shakspeare. 
 So tedious is this day, 
 As is the night before some festival 
 To an impatient child, that hath new robes, 
 And may not wear them. 
 
 ISxpettge. —Franklin. 
 VyrilAT maintains one vice would bring up two children. You 
 may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch now 
 and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little 
 entertainment now and then, can be no great matter; but remem- 
 ber, Many a little makes a mickle. Beware of little expenses. A 
 
138 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 small leak will sink a great ship, as Poor llicbard says; and again, 
 Who dainties love, shall beggars prove; and moreover, Fools make 
 feasts, and wise men eat them. 
 
 ISiperietTCe. — Sir P. Sidney. 
 All is but L : p-wisdom which wants Experience. 
 
 IBxpettence. — Shakspeare. 
 TTE cannot be a perfect man, 
 
 Not being tried, and tutor'd in the world : 
 Experience is by Industry achieved, 
 And perfected by the swift course of Time. 
 
 iBxperieitCe. — Shakspeare. 
 Our own precedent passions do instruct us 
 What levity's in youth. 
 
 ISxperiettCe* — Terence. 
 "^"0 man was ever endowed with a judgment so correct and judi- 
 cious, in regulating his life, but that Circumstances, Time, and 
 Experience, would teach him something new, and apprize him that 
 of those things with which he thought himself the best acquainted, 
 he knew uothing; and that those ideas, which in theory appeared 
 the most advantageous, were found, when brought into practice, to 
 be altogether inapplicable. 
 
 ISiperiettCe Coleridge. 
 
 TO most men Experience is like the stern-lights of a ship, which 
 illumine only the track it has passed. 
 
 ^Experience. — Shakspeare. 
 
 To wilful men, 
 The injuries that they themselves procure, 
 Must be their schoolmasters. 
 
 ^Experience. — Green. 
 Experience join'd with Common Sense, 
 To mortals is a Providence. 
 
 ^Experience. — Byron. 
 ^DVERSITY is the first path to Truth. 
 
 He who hath proved war, storm, or woman's rage, 
 Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, 
 Hath won the Experience which is deem'd so weighty. 
 
 iEXteWaliS. — Johnson. 
 TN civilized society, External Advantages make us more respected. 
 A man with a good coat upon his back meets with a better re- 
 ception than he who has a bad one. You may analyze this and 
 say, what is there in it? But that will avail you nothing, for it 
 is a part of a general system. Pound St. Paul's church into atoms, 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 139 
 
 and consider any single atom ; it is, to be sure, good for nothing : 
 but put all these atoms together, and you have St. Paul's church. So 
 it is with human felicity, which is made up of many ingredients, 
 each of which may be shown to be very insignificant. 
 
 ISxttabagance. — Pope. 
 
 ~POR what has Virro painted, built, and planted? 
 
 Only to show how many tastes he wanted. 
 What brought Sir Visto's ill-got wealth to waste ? 
 Some demon whisper'd, Visto has a taste ! 
 
 ISxtrabagance.— Young. 
 
 The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, 
 Provides a home from which to run away. 
 
 CfjeiEge. — Addison. 
 A BEAUTIFUL Eye makes Silence eloquent, a kind Eye makes 
 Contradiction an assent, an enraged Eye makes Beauty de- 
 formed. This little Member gives life to every other part about 
 us ; and I believe the story of Argus implies no more, than that 
 the Eye is in every part ; that is to say, every other part would be 
 mutilated were not its force represented more by the Eye than even 
 by itself. 
 
 Cije ^t.— Moore. 
 'THOSE Eyes, whose light seem'd rather given 
 
 To be adored than to adore — 
 Such Eyes, as may have look'd from Heaven, 
 But ne'er were raised to it before ! 
 
 jFattl).— Anon. 
 J7NTIBENESS, illimitableness is indispensable to Faith. What 
 we believe, we must believe wholly and without reserve ; where- 
 fore the only perfect and satisfying object of Faith is God. A Faith 
 that sets bounds to itself, that will believe so much and no more, 
 that will trust thus far and no farther, is none. 
 
 JjPattf) Anon. 
 
 T'HE power of Faith will often shine forth the most, where the 
 character is naturally weak. There is less to intercept and in- 
 terfere with its workings. 
 
 jFatti). — Addison. 
 r FHE natural homage which such a creature as Man bears to an 
 infinitely wise and good God, is a firm Reliance on him for the 
 blessings and conveniences of life, and an habitual Trust in him for 
 deliverance out of all such dangers and difficulties as may befall us. 
 The man who always lives in this disposition of mind, when he 
 reflects upon his own weakness and imperfection, comforts himself 
 
 N 
 
140 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 with the contemplation of those Divine attributes which are em- 
 ployed for his safety and welfare. He finds his want of foresight 
 made up by the omniscience of him who is his support. He is now 
 sensible of his own want of strength when he knows that his Helper 
 is Almighty. In short, the person who has a firm Trust on the 
 Supreme Being, is powerful in his power, wise by his wisdom, 
 happy by his happiness. 
 
 ILOSS Of jFaify. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Pray can I not, 
 Though inclination be as sharp as will; 
 My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; 
 And, like a man to double business bound, 
 I stand in pause where I shall first begin, 
 And both neglect. 
 
 dFattf) anti ttMnxks. — Coiton. 
 
 \\TE should act with as much energy, as those who expect every 
 thing from themselves; and we should pray with as much 
 earnestness as those who expect every thing from God. 
 
 jFrtentis df ailing oft. — s/mkspeare. 
 
 'THEY answer, in a joint and corporate voice, 
 
 That now they are at Fall, want treasure, cannot 
 Do what they would; are sorry — you are honourable, — 
 But yet they could have wish'd — they know not — but 
 Something hath been amiss' d — a noble nature 
 May catch a wrench — would all were well — 'tis pity — 
 And so, intending other serious matters, 
 After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions, 
 With certain half-caps, and cold-moving nods, 
 They froze me into silence. 
 
 .jFatefwofc,— Cotton. 
 
 FALSEHOOD is never so successful as when she baits her hook 
 with Truth, and that no opinions so fatally mislead us, as those 
 that are not wholly wrong, as no watches so effectually deceive the 
 wearer, as those that are sometimes right. 
 
 jFalSe icCCUritj). — S/iakspeare. 
 
 We hear this fearful tempest sing, 
 Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm; 
 We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, 
 And yet we strike not, but securely perish. 
 
 jfamt. — Mallet 
 I courted Fame but as a spur to brave 
 And honest deeds; and who despises Fame, 
 Will soon renounce the virtues that deserve it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 141 
 
 $ amc. — Cotton. 
 
 f\Y present Fame think little and of future less; the Praises that 
 we receive after we are buried, like the posies that are strewed 
 over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are no- 
 thing to the dead ; the dead are gone, either to a place where they 
 hear them not, or where, if they do, they will despise them. 
 
 jFame. — Sterne. 
 'THE way to Fame is like the way to Heaven — through much 
 Tribulation. 
 
 jFawe. — Shakspeare. 
 Glory grows guilty of detested crimes; 
 "When, for Fame's sake, for Praise, an outward part, 
 We bend to that the working of the heart. 
 
 Jfame. — Shakspeare. 
 TF a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he 
 shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings, and the 
 widow weeps. 
 
 jfamt, — Shakspeare. 
 Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; 
 For now he lives in Fame, though not in life. 
 
 ,-fFcime. — Shakspeare. 
 The Evil, that men do, lives after them; 
 The Good is oft interred with their bones. 
 
 ,-ffamc. — Byron, 
 
 fanes, thy temple, to the surface bow, 
 Commingling slowly with heroic earth, 
 Broke by the share of every rustic plough : 
 So perish Monuments of mortal Birth, 
 To perish all in turn, save well-recorded Worth. 
 
 JFamt.— Byron. 
 
 HAT of them is left, to tell 
 Where they lie, and how they fell? 
 Not a stone on their turf, nor a bone in their graves; 
 But they live in the Verse that immortally saves. 
 
 jpatlte.— Moore. 
 
 T^7"HO, that surveys this span of earth we press, 
 This speck of life in time's great wilderness, 
 This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, 
 The past, the future, two eternities! — 
 Would sully the bright spot or leave it bare, 
 When he might build him a proud Temple there, 
 A Name, that long shall hallow all its space, 
 And be each purer soul's high rcstiug-place ! 
 
 »JHY 
 
 w 
 
142 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 df ante. — Shdkipeare. 
 Men's Evil Manners live in brass : their Virtues 
 We write in water. 
 
 jf&mz. — Shenstojie. 
 AH me ! full sorely is my heart forlorn 
 
 To think how modest Worth neglected lies, 
 While partial Fame doth with her blasts adorn 
 Such deeds alone, as Pride and Pomp disguise, 
 Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise. 
 
 Jatne, — Byron. 
 "TIS as a snowball which derives assistance 
 
 From every flake, and yet rolls on the same, 
 Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow ; 
 But after all 'tis nothing but cold snow. 
 
 JPame. — Young. 
 f\F boasting more than of a bomb afraid, 
 A soldier should be modest as a maid : 
 Fame is a bubble the reserved enjoy; 
 Who strive to grasp it, as they touch, destroy ; 
 'Tis the w jrld's debt to deeds of high degree; 
 But if \ a pay yourself, the world is free. 
 
 J^ame. — Young. 
 Fa vie is a public mistress, none enjoys, 
 Hat, more or less, his rival's peace destroys. 
 
 dFame. — Pope. 
 
 TyHAT'S Fame ? a fancied life in others' breath, 
 
 A thing beyond us, even before our death. 
 Just what you hear, you have ; and what's unknown, 
 The same, my lord, if Tully's, or your own. 
 All that we feel of it begins and ends 
 In the small circle of our foes or friends; 
 To all beside as much an empty shade 
 An Eugene living, as a Caesar dead. 
 
 jf am. — Milton. 
 "UAME is the spur that the clear sp'rit doth raise 
 
 (That last infirmity of noble mind) 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 
 Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorr'd shears, 
 And slits the thin-spun life. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 143 
 
 Uttcrati? jFamr. — Voiiaire. 
 
 HPHE path to Literary Fame is more difficult than that which 
 leads to Fortune. If you are so unfortunate as not to soar 
 above mediocrity, remorse is your portion; if you succeed in your 
 object, a host of enemies spring up around you : thus you find 
 yourself on the brink of an abyss between Contempt and Hatred. 
 
 ££XorttJlj) jfame. — JoJni Qui, icy Adams. 
 T7AME, that common crier, whose existence is only known by the 
 assemblage of multitudes; that pander of wealth and greatness, 
 so eager to haunt the palaces of fortune, and so fastidious to the 
 houseless dignity of virtue ; that parasite of pride, ever scornful to 
 meekness, and ever obsequious to insolent power; that heedless 
 trumpeter, whose ears are deaf to modest merit, and whose eyes are 
 blind to bloodless, distant excellence. 
 
 dFaitCg. — Shakspeare. 
 All impediments in Fancy's course 
 Are motives of more Fancy. 
 
 .jFacetoell atttJ WLtltOmt. — Shakspeare. 
 TIME is like a fashionable host, 
 
 That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand ; 
 And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly, 
 Grasps in the comer ; Welcome ever smiles, 
 And Farewell goes out sighing. 
 
 jFollotorrS Of Jfasijton. — Ji/i«?a' Anglic. 
 An empty, thoughtless tribe. 
 
 jFaSffjUm.— GreviOe. 
 
 YVE laugh heartily to see a whole flock of sheep jump because 
 one did so : might not one imagine that superior beings do 
 the same by us, and for exactly the same reason. 
 
 dfasfjtOTt. — Byron. 
 TN the Great World — which being interpreted 
 
 Meaneth the West end of a city, 
 And about twice two thousand people bred 
 
 By no means to be very wise or witty, 
 But to sit up while others lie in bed, 
 
 And look down on the Universe with pity. 
 
 JfaBf)i(in.— Byron. 
 The Company is " mixed," (the phrase I quote is 
 As much as saying, they're below your notice.) 
 
 jFagjUm. — ChurchiU. 
 
 Fashion, a word which knaves and fools may use 
 Their knavery and folly to excuse. 
 
144 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 
 jFaSljtOlt. — Shdkspeare. 
 Where doth the World thrust forth a Vanity, 
 (So it be knew, there's no respect how vile,) 
 That is not quickly buzz'd into the ears ? 
 
 jFate. — Horace. 
 T^TITH equal foot, rich friend, impartial Fate, 
 Knocks at the cottage and the palace gate : 
 Life's span forbids thee to extend thy cares, 
 And stretch thy hopes, beyond thy destined years: 
 Night soon will seize, and you must quickly go 
 To storied ghosts, and Pluto's house below. 
 
 ^Faults. — Shdkspeare. 
 TF little Faults, proceeding on Distemper, 
 
 Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye, 
 When Capital Crimes, chew'd, swallow'd, and digested, 
 Appear before us? 
 
 dFabmir* — LaBruyere. 
 
 "PAVOUR exalts a man above his equals, but his dismissal from 
 that Favour places him below them. 
 
 dfabOUtS. — Publius Syrus. 
 TT is conferring a kindness, to deny at once a Favour which you 
 intend to refuse. 
 
 dFate Of JfBStoWtiXt&. — Shakspeare. 
 /^J-EEAT Princes' Favourites their fair leaves spread, 
 
 But as the marigold, at the sun's eye; 
 And in themselves their pride lies buried, 
 
 For at a frown tney in their glory die. 
 The painful warrior famoused for fight, 
 After a thousand victories once foil'd, 
 Is from the Book of Honour razed quite, 
 And all the rest forgot for which he toil'd. 
 
 df eai. — Shaftesbury. 
 'THE passion of Fear (as a modern philosopher informs me) de- 
 termines the spirits to the muscles of the knees, which are 
 instantly ready to perform their motion, by taking up the legs with 
 incomparable celerity, in order to remove the body out of harm's 
 way. 
 
 Jfear. — Montaigne. 
 'THE thing in the world I am most afraid of is Fear; and with 
 good reason, that Passion alone, in the trouble of it, exceeding 
 all other accidents. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 145 
 
 jFcai". — Shakspeare. 
 I find the people strangely fantasied ; 
 Possess' d with Rumours, full of idle Dreams; 
 Not knowing what they fear, but full of Fear. 
 
 $Z8X. — Shalcspeare. 
 
 But that I am forbid 
 To tell the secrets of my prison-house, 
 I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word 
 Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; 
 Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; 
 Thy knotted and combined locks to part, 
 And each particular hair to stand on end, 
 Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. 
 
 jft ar. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHIS man's brow, like to a title-leaf, 
 
 Foretells the nature of a tragic volume : 
 So looks the strond, whereon the imperious flood 
 Hath left a witness'd usurpation. 
 Thou trerablest; and the Whiteness in thy Cheek 
 Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. 
 Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, 
 So dull, so dead in look, so wo-begone, 
 Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, 
 And would have told him, half his Troy was burn'd. 
 
 iGf)Clj3tlj} jftZX. — Shakspeare. 
 
 What man dare, I dare : 
 Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 
 The arm'd Rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger, 
 Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 
 Shall never tremble : or, be alive again, 
 And dare me to the desert with thy sword; 
 If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me 
 The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow ! 
 Unreal Mockery, hence ! 
 
 Hnmanlg dFear. — miton. 
 
 Be not over exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils: 
 For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, 
 What need a man forestall his date of grief, 
 And run to meet what he would most avoid? 
 
 jFcaSttng. — Peter Pindar. 
 The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find, 
 Lies through their Mouths, or I mistake mankind 
 
146 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dFeaSttng. — Clarendon. 
 TT is not the quantity of the Meat, but the cheerfulness of the 
 guests, which makes the Feast; at the Feast of the Centaurs, 
 they ate with one hand, and had their drawn swords in the other; 
 where there is no peace, there can be no Feast. 
 
 pasting. — Peter Pindar. 
 yEN'SON'S a Caesar in the fiercest fray; 
 
 Turtle ! an Alexander in its way : 
 And then, in quarrels of a slighter nature, 
 Mutton's a most successful mediator ! 
 So much superior is the stomach's smart 
 To all the vaunted horrors of the heart. 
 E'en Love, who often triumphs in his grief, 
 Hath ceased to feed on sighs, to pant on beef. 
 
 dFeaStmg. — Peter Pindar. 
 T OWN that nothing like Good Cheer succeeds — 
 
 A man's a God whose hogshead freely bleeds : 
 Champagne can consecrate the damned'st evil ; 
 A hungry Parasite adores a Devil. 
 
 JfzmtiXi^— Byron. 
 "PUT 'twas a public Feast, and public day — 
 
 Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and Dishes cold, 
 Great plenty, much formality, small Cheer, 
 And everybody out of their own sphere. 
 
 $ZM\iXl%. — Byron. 
 
 Op all appeals, — although 
 
 I grant the power of pathos, and of gold, 
 
 Of beauty, flattery, threats, a shilling, — no 
 
 Method's more sure at moments to take hold 
 Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow 
 
 More tender, as we every day behold, 
 Than that all-softening, overpow'ring knell, 
 The tocsin of the soul — the Dinner Bell. 
 
 dfeeitltfi.— BicJUer. 
 
 'THE last, best fruit which comes to late perfection, even in the 
 kindliest soul, is, Tenderness toward the hard, Forbearance to- 
 ward the unforbearing, Warmth of Heart toward the cold, Philan- 
 thropy toward the misanthropic. 
 
 jFeeltttg. — Sterne. 
 A WORD — a Look, which at one time would make no impression 
 — at another time wounds the Heart; and like a shaft flying 
 with the wind, pierces deep, which, with its own n?tural force, 
 would scarce have reached the object aimed at. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 147 
 
 dFeeltng. — Ooiton. 
 
 TT is far more easy not to feel, than always to feel rightly, and not 
 to act, than always to act well. For he that is determined to 
 admire only that which is beautiful, imposes a much harder task 
 upon himself, than ho that being determined not to see that which 
 is the contrary, effects it by simply shutting his eyes. 
 
 deling. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Hero ! what a Hero had'st thou been, 
 If half thy outward graces had been placed 
 About thy thoughts, and counsels of thy Heart. 
 
 dueling. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T^THEN the Heart is still agitated by the remains of a Passion, 
 we are more ready to receive a new one than when we are 
 entirely cured. 
 
 jfulinQ. — Bi/ron. 
 J WISH'D but for a single Tear, 
 
 As something welcome, new, and dear ; 
 
 1 wish/d it then, I wish it still, 
 Despair is stronger than my will. 
 
 dueling. — Byron. 
 
 In a gushing stream 
 The Tears rush'd forth from her unclouded Brain 
 Like mountain mists, at length dissolved in rain. 
 
 dFeelmg. _ Shakspeare. 
 \TTHY does my Blood thus muster to my Heart, 
 
 Making both that unable for itself, 
 And dispossessing all my other parts 
 Of necessary fitness ? 
 
 So play the foolish throngs with one that swoons ; 
 Come all to help hi in, and so stop the air 
 By which he should revive. 
 
 jfc eltng. — Shakspeare. 
 How sometimes Nature will betray its Folly, 
 Its Tenderness, and make itself a pistime 
 To harder bosoms ! 
 
 dFeelmg anfc TtiizMm.—Ziegier. 
 
 r rHE Heart of Man is older than his He?d. The ftrsf-born is 
 sensitive, but blind — his younger brother has a cold, but all- 
 comprehensive glance. The blind must consent to be led by tho 
 clear-sighted, if he would avoid falling. 
 
 ££tant of jFtclinq.— Juvenal 
 
 Who can all sense of others' ills escape, 
 Is but a brute, at best, in human shape. 
 
148 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jfecltng anti Keason.— Anon. 
 
 QOME people carry their Hearts in their Heads ; very many carry 
 their Heads in their Hearts. The difficulty is to keep them 
 apart, and yet both actively working together. 
 
 jFtCfeleneSlS. — Shakspeare. 
 YITOULD I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, 
 changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, 
 shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles ; for every passion 
 something, and for no passion truly any thing, as boys and women 
 are for the most part cattle of this colour; would now like him, 
 now loath him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep 
 for him, then spit at him. 
 
 .jFffcJClttjt). — Shakspeare. 
 He that can endure 
 To follow with Allegiance a fallen lord, 
 Does conquer him that did his master conquer, 
 And earns a place i' the story. 
 
 dFtMttp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I'll yet follow 
 The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason 
 Sits in the wind against me. 
 
 jFttielttg. — Shakspeare. 
 But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; 
 And Manhood is called Foolery, when it stands 
 Against a falling fabric. 
 
 jf f&elttg. — Shakspeare. 
 TTIS Words are bonds, his Oaths are Oracles; 
 
 His Love sincere, his Thoughts immaculate, 
 His Tears, pure messengers sent from his Heart; 
 His Heart as far from Fraud as heaven from earth. 
 
 dFtMtt£. — Shakspeare. 
 'JHOUGH all the world should crack their Duty 
 
 And throw it from their soul ; though perils did 
 Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and 
 Appear in forms more horrid ; yet my duty, 
 As doth a rock against the chiding flood, 
 Should the approach of the wild river break, 
 And stand unshaken yours 
 
 jFiMttJ}- — Shakspeare. 
 I aim constant as the Northern Star, 
 Of whose true-fix'd, and resting Quality, 
 There is no fellow in the firmament. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 149 
 
 ^FtMttg. — Shakspeare. 
 T DURST, my lord, to wager she is honest, 
 
 Lay down my soul at stake : if you think other, 
 Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom. 
 If any wretch hath put this in your head, 
 Let Heaven requite it with the serpent's curse ! 
 For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true, 
 There's no man happy : the purest of their wives 
 Is foul as slander. 
 
 jFltldttj). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Heaven ! were Man 
 
 But constant, he were perfect : that one Error 
 Fills him with faults. 
 
 dFttielttJ). —Shakspeare. 
 TTE which hath no stomach to this fight, 
 
 Let him depart, his passport shall be made, 
 And crowns for convoy put into his purse : 
 We would not die in that man's company, 
 That fears his fellowship to die with us. 
 
 1 speak not this, as doubting any here : 
 For, did I but suspect a fearful man, 
 
 He should have leave to go away betimes ; 
 Lest, in our need, he might infect another, 
 And make hi in of like spirit to himself. 
 If any such be here, as God forbid ! 
 Let him depart, before we need his help. 
 
 dFfijelttj). — Shakspeare. 
 TF to preserve this vessel for my lord, 
 
 From any other foul unlawful touch, 
 Be — not to be a strumpet, I am none. 
 False to his bed ! What is it to be false ? 
 To lie in watch there, and to think on him ? 
 To weep 'twixt clock and clock ? if sleep charge nature, 
 To break it with a fearful dream of him, 
 And cry myself awake ? that's false to his bed, 
 Is it? 
 
 Unkindness may do much ; 
 And his unkindness may defeat my life, 
 But never taint my love. 
 
 ^Ftutlttg.— Moore. 
 fX)ME rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer ! 
 
 Tho' the herd hath fled from thee, thy home is still here ; 
 Here still is the smile that no cloud can o'ercast, 
 And the Heart and the Hand all thy own to the Last ! 
 
150 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jFtMttg. — Shakspeare. 
 Chain nie with roaring bears ; 
 Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, 
 O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, 
 With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless skulls; 
 Or bid me go into a new-made grave, 
 And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ; 
 Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble ; 
 And I will do it without Fear or Doubt, 
 To live an unstain'd Wife of my sweet Love. 
 
 dFtMttg. — Byron. 
 
 HPHOUGH human, thou didst not deceive me, 
 
 Though woman, thou didst not forsake, 
 Though loved, thou foreborest to grieve me, 
 
 Though slander'd, thou never couldst shake, — 
 Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me, 
 
 Though parted, it was not to fly, 
 Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me, 
 Nor, mute, that the World might belie. 
 
 jFtnerg. — Shakspeare. 
 All that glisters is not Gold, 
 Gilded Tombs do Worms infold. 
 
 dFtriSt ^mpreiSS tOltS. — Horace. 
 What season'd first the Vessel, keeps the Taste. 
 
 jFlattetg. — Anon. 
 When Flatterers meet, the Devil goes to Dinner. 
 
 ^f lattcrg. — Greville. 
 YY'E d° not always like people the better, for paying us all the 
 Court which we ourselves think our due. 
 
 dHatterp.— Coiton. 
 
 pLATTERY is often a traffic of mutual Meanness, where, 
 although both parties intend Deception, neither are deceived. 
 dFiatterj). — Jean Paul. 
 Men find it more easy to Flatter than to Praise. 
 dFlattCtg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 He loves to hear, 
 That Unicorns may be betray'd with trees, 
 And Bears with glasses, Elephants with holes, 
 Lions with toils, and Men with Flatterers : 
 But, when I tell him, he hates Flatterers, 
 He says, he does ; being then most Flatter'd. 
 dFlatterj). — Shakspeare. 
 He that loves to be Flattered is worthy o' the Flatterer. 
 
OR, THING S NEW AND OLD. 151 
 
 dFlatterj). _ Shakspeare. 
 
 Be not fond, 
 To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood, 
 That will be thaw'd from the true quality 
 With that which melteth Fools : I mean, Sweet Words, 
 Low-crook'd Curt'sies, and base Spaniel Fawning. 
 
 jFlattetg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 You play the Spaniel, 
 And think with wagging of your Tongue to win me. 
 
 df lattetj). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Why these looks of Care ? 
 Thy Flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; 
 Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot 
 That ever Timon was. Shame not these words, 
 By putting on the cunning of a Carper. 
 Be thou a Flatterer now, and seek to thrive 
 By that which has undone thee : hinge thy Knee, 
 And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, 
 Blow off thy cap ; praise his most vicious strain, 
 And call it excellent. 
 
 dFlatteCg. — Shakspeare. 
 A H ! when the means are gone, that buy this Praise, 
 
 The Breath is gone whereof this Praise is made : 
 Feast-one, fast-lost ; one cloud of winter showers, 
 These flies are couch'd. 
 
 jFlattetJ). — Shakspeare. 
 Why, what a deal of candied Courtesy, 
 This fawning Greyhound then did proffer me ! 
 The Devil take such Cozeners ! — God forgive me ! 
 
 dFlattetg. — Shakspeare. 
 No visor does become black Villany 
 So well as soft and tender Flattery. 
 
 dFlatterp, — otway. 
 
 "YTO Flatt'ry, boy ! an honest man can't live by't : 
 
 It is a little sneaking art, which knaves 
 Use to cajole and soften fools withal. 
 If thou hast Flatt'ry in thy nature, out with't; 
 Or send it to a court, for there 'twill thrive. 
 
 dFlattetp. — Hannah More. 
 Hold! 
 No Adulation : 'tis the death of Virtue ! 
 Who flatters is of all mankind the lowest, 
 Save he who courts the Flattery. 
 
 
152 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dFlatterg. — Shakspeare. 
 My beauty, though but mean, 
 Needs not the painted flourish of your Praise. 
 Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 
 Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues. 
 
 irttnglp jflSitUX$. — Shakspeare. 
 THEY do abuse the King that flatter him: 
 For Flattery is the bellows blows up sin; 
 The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, 
 To which that breath gives heat and stronger glowing; 
 Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, 
 Fits Kings, as they are Men, for they may err. 
 
 Ci)e dfOOl. — Goethe. 
 QF all thieves Fools are the worst : they rob you of time and 
 temper. 
 
 &{)e dFOOL — La Bruyere. 
 A Fool cannot look, nor stand, nor walk like a man of sense. 
 
 ^Tjie jffOOL — Anon. 
 JJE must be a thorough Fool who can learn nothing from his 
 own Folly. 
 
 jpOllitft. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 There are Follies as catching as contagious disorders. 
 
 dFolljD. — Hare. 
 None but a Fool is always right. 
 
 JftS \\)).— Horace. 
 When free from Folly, we to Wisdom rise. 
 
 jfnlln. _ Colton. 
 A FOOL is often as dangerous to deal with as a Knave, and 
 always more incorrigible. 
 
 .^Follj). — Shakspeare. 
 ^"ONE are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, 
 As Wit turn'd Fool : Folly, in Wisdom hatch'd, 
 Hath Wisdom's warrant, and the help of school ; 
 And Wit's own grace, to grace a learned Fool. 
 The blood of youth burns not with such excess, 
 As Gravity's revolt to wantonness. 
 Folly in Fools bears not so strong a note, 
 As Foolery in the wise, when Wit doth dote; 
 Since all the power thereof it doth apply, 
 To prove, by Wit, worth in Simplicity. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 153 
 
 dfaPP^g.— Johnson. 
 
 I70PPERY is never cured; it is the bad stamina of the mind, 
 which, like those of the body, are never rectified; once a 
 Coxcomb, and always a Coxcomb. 
 
 ^Forbearance. —Epictetus. 
 
 T^VERY thing hath two handles : the one soft and manageable, 
 the other such as will not endure to be touched. If then your 
 brother do you an injury, do not take it by the hot and hard handle, 
 by representing to yourself all the aggravating circumstances of 
 the fact; but look rather on the soft side, and extenuate it as 
 much as is possible, by considering the nearness of the relation, 
 and the long friendship and familiarity between you — obligations 
 to kindness which a single provocation ought not to dissolve. And 
 thus you will take the accident by its manageable handle. 
 
 ^Forbearance. — shakspeare. 
 
 Use every man after his desert, and who shall 'scape whipping? 
 
 ^Foreign influence. — Washington. 
 
 A GAINST the insidious wiles of foreign influence, the jealousy 
 of a free people ought to be constantly awake; since history 
 and experience prove, that foreign influence is one of the most 
 baneful foes of republican government. 
 
 tfattmQf)L—CoUon. 
 
 A CCUSTOM yourself to submit on all and every occasion, and 
 on the most minute, no less than on the most important cir- 
 cumstances of life, to a small Present Evil, to obtain a greater 
 Distant Good. This will give decision, tone, and energy to the 
 Mind, which, thus disciplined, will often reap victory from defeat, 
 and honour from repulse. 
 
 jForeSt'gfjt. — Shakspeare. 
 To fear the worst, oft cures the worst. 
 
 dForgtbenejSSS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Kneel not to me : 
 The power that I have on you, is to spare you ; 
 The malice towards you, to forgive you : live, 
 And deal with others better. 
 
 dForgtbcneSS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Fury 
 
 THOUGH with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, 
 Yet, with my nobler Reason, against my — 
 
 Do I take part : the rarer action is 
 In Virtue than in Vengeance 
 
J54 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jFQtm$. — Hare. 
 
 f~\¥ what use are Forms, seeing that at times they are empty ? 
 Of the same use as barrels, which at times are empty too. 
 
 dFortttUto. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Bid that welcome 
 Which comes to punish us, aud we punish it, 
 Seeming to bear it lightly. 
 
 .jFortltlrtie. — Shakspeare. 
 T/tTISE men ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
 
 But cheerty seek how to redress their harms. 
 What though the mast be now blown overboard, 
 The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, 
 And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ? 
 Yet lives our Pilot still : Is it meet, that he 
 Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, 
 With tearful eyes add water to the sea, 
 And give more strength to that which hath too much; 
 Whiles, in his moan, the ship splits on a rock, 
 Which industry and courage might have saved ? 
 
 dFortttUtre. — Shakspeare. 
 The Mind I sway by, and the Heart I bear, 
 Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with Fear. 
 
 $KX\\iVfot. — Byron. 
 
 T£XISTENCE may be borne, and the deep root 
 Of life and Sufferance make its firm abode 
 
 In bare and desolated bosoms : mute . 
 
 The camel labours with the heaviest load, 
 And the wolf dies in silence, — not bestow'd 
 
 In vain should such example be; if they, 
 Things of ignoble or of savage mood, 
 
 Endure and shrink not, we of nobler clay 
 
 May temper it to bear, — it is but for a day. 
 
 jFortttUtie. — Shakspeare. 
 Though Fortune's malice overthrow my state, 
 My Mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. 
 
 jFortttUtre. — Channing. 
 HPHE greatest man is he who chooses the right with invincib.e 
 Resolution ; who resists the sorest temptations from within and 
 without; who bears the heaviest burdens cheerfully ; who is the 
 calmest in storms, and whose reliance on Truth, on Virtue, on God, 
 is the most unfaltering. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 155 
 
 jFortitlrtie. —Byron. 
 TTAVE I not had my brain sear'd, ray heart riven, 
 
 Hopes sapp'd, name blighted, life's life lied away ? 
 And only not to Desperation driven, 
 Because not altogether of such clay, 
 As rots into the souls of those whom I survey. 
 
 ^Fortunate f&tn. — Cicero. 
 
 'FHE man who is always Fortunate cannot easily have a great 
 reverence for Virtue. 
 
 ^Fortune. — Shdkspeare. 
 TyiLL Fortune never come with both hands full, 
 
 But write her fair words still in foulest letters? 
 She either gives a stomach, and no food, — 
 Such are the poor in health • or else a feast, 
 And takes away the stomach, — such the rich, 
 That have abundance, and enjoy it not. 
 
 ^Fortune. — Thomson. 
 Oft, what seems 
 A trifle, a mere nothing, by itself, 
 In some nice situations, turns the scale 
 Of Fate, and rules the most important actions. 
 
 ^Fortune. — Shakspeare. 
 Of Nature's Gifts thou may'st with lilies boast, 
 And with the half-blown rose : but Fortune, Oh ! 
 She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee. 
 
 dFOCtUTte. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Fortune is merry, 
 And in this mood will give us any thing. 
 
 ^Fortune. — Shakspeare. 
 When Fortune means to men most good, 
 She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye. 
 
 ^Fortune.— Coiton. 
 
 'THERE are some men who are Fortune's Favourites, and who, 
 like cats, light for ever upon their legs. 
 
 jFOttimr. —From the French. 
 C* OOD Fortune and Bad are equally necessary to Man, to fit him 
 to meet the contingencies of this life. 
 
 jfOttVMC. — Goldsmith. 
 Vy'HAT real Good does an addition to a fortune already sufficient, 
 procure ? Not any. Could the great man, by having his 
 Fortune increased, increase also his appetites, then precedence 
 oiight be attended with real amusement. 
 
 o2 
 
156 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dfOttVLnt.— GrevUle. 
 QURELY no man can reflect, without wonder, upon the Vicissi- 
 tudes of Human Life arising from causes in the highest degree 
 accidental and trifling. If you trace the necessary concatenation of 
 Human Events, a very little way back, you may perhaps discover 
 that a person's very going in or out of a door has been the means 
 of colouring with misery or happiness the remaining current of his life 
 
 jFortime. — Montaigne. 
 "pORTUNE does us neither good nor hurt; she only presents us 
 the matter and the seed, which our soul, more powerful than 
 she, turns and applies as she best pleases, being the sole cause and 
 sovereign mistress of her own happy or unhappy condition. All 
 external accessions receive taste and colour from the internal con- 
 stitution, ns clothes warm us not with their heat, but our own, 
 which they are adapted to cover and keep in. 
 jFOttUtte* — Rousseau. 
 We do not know what is really Good or Bad Fortune. 
 JCirtUne, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 (^j-OOD or Bad Fortune generally pursue those who have the 
 greatest share of either. The prosperous man seems as a mag- 
 net to attract Prosperity. 
 
 dfOTtUUt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TPHE Good or the Bad Fortune of Men depend not less upon their 
 own dispositions than upon Fortune. 
 
 fortune. — Tacitus. 
 r FHERE are many Men who appear to be struggling against Ad- 
 versity, and yet are happy; but yet more, who, although 
 abounding in Wealth, are miserable. 
 
 jFOttUTte. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T\TE should manage our Fortune as we do our health — enjoy it 
 when good, be patient when it is bad, and never apply violent 
 remedies except in an extreme necessity. 
 
 JfOttUKtt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 HPHE moderation of Fortunate People comes from the calm which 
 Good Fortune gives to their tempers. 
 
 Jf OllUne. — Shenstone. 
 THE worst inconvenience of a Small Fortune is that it will noi 
 admit of inadvertency. 
 
 ^lagtltg tottf) jFftttUVLZ. — Shakspeare. 
 
 TTAPPINESS courts thee in her best array ; 
 But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, 
 Thou pout'st upon thy Fortune and thy Love. 
 Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 157 
 
 ^Fortune. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 It requires greater virtues to support Good than Bad Fortune. 
 
 JfFtatltJ?. — Shakspeare. 
 Where's that palace, whereinto foul things 
 Sometimes intrude not ? who has a Breast so pure, 
 But some uncleanly apprehensions 
 Keep leets, and law-days, and in session sit 
 With meditations lawful? 
 
 ^reetiom.— RaM. 
 
 HTO have Freedom, is only to have that which is absolutely neces- 
 sary to enable us to be what we ought to be, and to possess 
 what we ought to possess. 
 
 .^FtCetfOttt. — Channing. 
 'THE only freedom worth possessing is that which gives enlarge- 
 ment to a people's energy, intellect, and virtues. The savage 
 makes his boast of freedom. But what is its worth ? Free as he 
 is, be continues for ages in the same ignorance, leads the same com- 
 fortless life, sees the same untamed wilderness spread around him. 
 He is, indeed, free from what he calls the yoke of civil institutions. 
 But other and worse chains bind him. The very privation of civil 
 government is in effect a chain; for, by withholding protection 
 from property, it virtually shackles th.e arm of industry, and forbids 
 exertion for the melioration of his lot. Progress, the growth of 
 power, is the end and boon of liberty ; and, without this, a people 
 may have the name, but want the substance and spirit of freedom 
 
 Ci)e ttUlg $KtZ. — Horace. 
 T\/'HO then is Free ? — The Wise, who well maintains 
 
 An empire o'er himself; whom neither Chains, 
 Nor Want, nor Death, with slavish Fear inspire; 
 Who boldly answers to his warm desire ; 
 Who can Ambition's vainest gifts despise ; 
 Firm in himself, who on himself relies; 
 Polish'd and round, who runs his proper course, 
 And breaks misfortune with superior force. 
 
 dFrietrtJ!5t)tp.— Joanna Baillie. 
 Friendship is no plant of hasty growth. 
 Though planted in esteem's deep-fix'd soil, 
 The gradual culture of kind Intercourse 
 Must bring it to perfection. 
 
 dFrientJSi)tp. — Burton. 
 'THE Attachments of mere Mirth are but the shadows of that true 
 Friendship, of which the sincere Affections of the Heart are 
 the substance. 
 
158 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dFncnfcSijtp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Thou art e'en as just a Man, 
 As e'er my conversation coped withal. 
 Nay, do not think I flatter : 
 For what advancement may I hope from thee, 
 That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits, 
 To feed and clothe thee? Should the poor be flatter'd? 
 No, let the candied tongue lick absurd Pomp, 
 And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, 
 Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? 
 Since my dear Soul was mistress of her choice, 
 And could of men distinguish, her election 
 Hath seal'd thee for herself. For thou hast been 
 As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing: 
 A Man, that Fortune's buffets and rewards 
 Hast ta'en with equal thanks. And blest are those, 
 Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, 
 That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger 
 To sound what stop she please. Give me that Man 
 That is not Passion's slave, and I will wear him 
 In my Heart's core: ay, in my Heart of Hearts, 
 As I do thee. 
 
 dFnentJSf)tp. — Shakspeare. 
 f\ WORLD, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast sworn, 
 
 Whose double Bosoms seem to wear one Heart, 
 Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise, 
 Are still together, who twin, as 'twere in Love 
 Unseparable, shall within this hour, 
 On a dissension of a doit, break out 
 To bitterest Enmity. 
 
 dFrientlSfnp. — Lavaier. 
 'THE qualities of your Friends will be those of your Enemies: 
 cold Friends, cold Enemies; half Friends, half Enemies; fervid 
 Enemies, warm Friends. 
 
 dFrtentJsfjtp. _ ntzosbome. 
 
 'THOUGH judgment must collect the materials of the goodly 
 structure of Friendship, it is Affection that gives the cement; 
 and Passion as well as Reason should concur in forming a firm and 
 lasting coalition. Hence, perhaps, it is, that not only the most 
 powerful, but the most lasting Friendships are usually the produce 
 of the early season of our lives, when we are most susceptible of 
 the warm and affectionate impressions. The connections into which 
 we enter in any after period, decrease in strength as our passions 
 abate in heat 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 159 
 
 jFrientlSfjip. — Shakspeare. 
 The Amity that Wisdom knits not, Folly may easily untie. 
 
 dFrterttJSi)tp. — Cicero. 
 pilTENDSHIP is the only thing in the world concerning the use- 
 fulness of which all mankind are agreed. 
 
 .jFrietttlSfjtp, — Horace. 
 Wise were the Kings who never chose a Friend 
 Till with full cups they had unmask'd his Soul, 
 And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts. 
 
 dFrinttlStjtP- — Shakspeare. 
 (~)H, lest the World should task you to recite 
 What merit lived in me, that you should love 
 
 After my death, — dear love, forget me quite, 
 For you in me can nothing worthy prove; 
 
 Unless you would devise some virtuous lie, 
 To do more for me than mine own desert, 
 
 And hang more praise upon deceased I, 
 Than niggard truth would willingly impart; 
 
 Oh, lest your true love may seem false in this, 
 That you for love speak well of me untrue, 
 
 My name be buried where my body is, 
 And live no more to shame nor me nor you. 
 
 For I am shamed by that which I bring forth, 
 
 And so should you, to love things nothing worth. 
 
 jFttnrtJSfjtp.— Greville. 
 T'O say, with La Rochefoucauld, that "in the adversity of our best 
 Friends there is something that does not displease us;" and to 
 say, that in the prosperity of our best Friends there is something 
 that does not please us, seems to be the same thing; yet I believe 
 the first is false, and the latter true. 
 
 .dFrinrtjgfjtp.— Coiton. 
 
 'THOSE who have resources within themselves, who can dare to 
 live alone, want Friends the least, but, at the same time, best 
 know how to prize them the most. But no company is far prefer- 
 able to bad, because we are more apt to catch the vices of others 
 than their virtues, as disease is far more contagious than health. 
 dFrientJSfjtp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Friends condemn'd 
 Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, 
 Loather a hundred times to part than die. 
 3ftltXltl8\)lV. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Now do I play the touch, 
 To try if thou be current gold, indeed. 
 
160 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 Jfxientstyiy. — Saiiust. 
 
 'TO be influenced by a passion for the same pursuits, and to have 
 similar dislikes, is the rational groundwork of lasting Friend- 
 ship. 
 
 dFrtCtttlSJnp. — Socrates. 
 /^j.ET not your Friends by bare compliments, but by giving them 
 sensible tokens of your love. It is well worth while to learn 
 how to win the heart of a man the right way. Force is of no use 
 to make or preserve a Friend, who is an animal that is never caught 
 nor tamed but by kindness and pleasure. Excite them by your 
 civilities, and show them that you desire nothing more than their 
 satisfaction ; oblige with all your soul that Friend who has made 
 you a present of his own. 
 
 dFrietttJSf)tp. — ShaJcspeare. 
 TS all the Counsel that we two have shared, 
 
 The Sisters' Vows, the hours that we have spent, 
 When we have chid the hasty -footed time 
 For parting us, — Oh, and is all forgot ? 
 All school-days' Friendship, Childhood Innocence ? 
 We, Herrnia, like two artificial gods, 
 Have with our neelds created both one flower, 
 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; 
 As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, 
 Had been incorporate. So we grew together, 
 Like a double cherry, seeming parted ; 
 But yet a union in partition, 
 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : 
 So, with two seeming bodies, but one Heart; 
 Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, 
 Due but to one, and crown'd with one crest. 
 And will you rend our ancient Love asunder ? 
 
 ;jFrientl!3f)iP- — Southern. 
 pKIENDSHIP is power and riches all to me; 
 
 Friendship's another element of life : 
 Water and fire not of more general use, 
 To the support and comfort of the world, 
 Than Friendship to the being of my joy : 
 I would do every thing to serve a Friend. 
 
 jFrtClttllSijtp. — Shakspeare. 
 T COUNT myself in nothing else so happy, 
 
 As in a soul rememb'ring my good Friends • 
 And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, 
 It shall be still thy true love's recompense. 
 
OR. THING S NEW AND OLD. 161 
 
 dFrinttortjtp. — Coiton. 
 
 A N act, by which we make one Friend and one Enemy, is a losing 
 game; because Revenge is a much stronger principle than 
 Gratitude. 
 
 dFrtcntJSfjtp. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 THOU mayst be sure that he that will in private tell thee of thy 
 faults, is thy Friend, for he adventures thy dislike, and doth 
 hazard thy hatred ; for there are few men that can endure it, every 
 man for the most part delighting in self-praise, which is one of the 
 most universal follies that bewitcheth Mankind. 
 
 dFrientlSfjtp. — Young. 
 (CELESTIAL Happiness ! Whene'er she stoops 
 
 To visit earth, one shrine the Goddess finds, 
 And one alone, to make her sweet amends 
 For absent heaven, — the bosom of a Friend, 
 Where Heart meets Heart, 
 Each other's pillow to repose divine. 
 
 dFrientlSJjtp. _ Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 THERE is nothing more becoming any wise man, than to make 
 choice of Friends, for by them thou shalt be judged what thou 
 art : let them therefore be wise and virtuous, and none of those 
 that follow thee for gain ; but make election rather of thy betters, 
 than thy inferiors, shunning always such as are needy; fur if thou 
 givest twenty gifts, and refuse to do the like but once, all that thou 
 hast done will be lost, and such men will become thy mortal 
 enemies. 
 
 .jFuentJ0f)tp. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 THE lightsome countenance of a Friend giveth such an inward 
 decking to the house where it lodgeth, as proudest palaces have 
 cause to envy the gilding. 
 
 dFnentJ0f)tp. — Shakspeare. 
 "PY Heaven, I cannot flatter : I defy 
 
 The tongues of soothers ; but a braver place 
 In my Heart's Love hath no man than yourself; 
 Nay, task me to my word ; approve me. 
 
 jFriCtttl£if)iP. — Fuller. 
 I ET Friendship creep gently to a height ; if it rush to it, it may 
 soon run itself out of breath. 
 
 dFrient!j3f)tp. —Johnson. 
 TF a man does not make new Acquaintance as he advances through 
 life, he will soon find himself left alone. A man should keep 
 his Friendship in constant repair. 
 
 11 
 
102 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dFrientUSijtJL — Goldsmith. 
 THERE are few subjects which have been more written upon, 
 and less understood, than that of friendship. To follow the 
 dictates of some, this virtue, instead of being the assuager of pain, 
 becomes the source of every inconvenience. Such speculatists, by 
 expecting too much from Friendship, dissolve the connection, and 
 by drawing the bands too closely, at length break them. 
 
 jfrientJSfjtp. — Sir William Temple. 
 SOMETHING like home that is not home, like alone that is not 
 alone, is to be wished, and only found in a Friend, or in his 
 house. 
 
 dFr tentllSf) ip . — Shakspeare. 
 
 In Companions 
 That do converse and waste the time together, 
 Whose Souls do bear an equal Yoke of Love, 
 There must be needs a like proportion 
 Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit. 
 
 J^rtent(Sl)tp. — Chesterfield. 
 DEAL Friendship is a slow grower; and never thrives, unless 
 engrafted upon a stock of known and reciprocal Merit. 
 
 dfFrientJSjtp. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Rare as is true Love, true Friendship is still rarer. 
 
 ,-jFr tentJSi) tp. — Hawkesworth. 
 "PEW men are calculated for that close connection which we dis- 
 tinguish by the appellation of Friendship : the Acquaintance 
 is in a post of progression \ and after having passed through a 
 course of proper experience, and given sufficient evidence of his 
 merit, takes a new title. 
 
 jftitrit*$l)i$. — Shakspeare. 
 Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
 Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 
 Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 
 The Friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
 Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel ; 
 But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
 Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. 
 
 dFrienfcStjt'p. — Chesterfield. 
 'THOSE who in the common course of the world will call them 
 selves your Friends ; or whom, according to the common notions 
 of Friendship, you may probably think such, will never tell you of 
 your faults, still less of your weaknesses. But on the contrary, more 
 desirous to make you their Friend than to prove themselves yours, 
 tbey will flatter both, and, in truth, not be sorry for either. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD 163 
 
 jFrimtlSf)tp. — Catherine Phillips. 
 "PSSEXTIAL honour must be in a friend, 
 
 Not such as every breath fans to and fro ; 
 But born within, is its own judge and end, 
 
 And dares not sin, though sure that none should know. 
 Where Friendship's spoke, Honesty's understood ; 
 For none can be a Friend that is not good. 
 
 iFrteitflSfjtp. — Shalcspeare. 
 ~]VJ"0 longer mourn for me when I am dead 
 
 Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell 
 Give warning to the world that I am fled 
 
 From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : 
 Nay, if you read this line, remember not 
 
 The Hand that writ it ; for I love you so, 
 That I in your sweet Thoughts would be forgot, 
 
 If thinking on me then should make you wo. 
 Oh if (I say) you look upon this verse, 
 
 When I perhaps compounded am with clay. 
 Do not so much as my poor name rehearse ; 
 
 But let your Love even with my life decay : 
 Lest the wise world should look into your moan, 
 And mock you with me after I am gone. 
 
 ,iFricnu\Sf)tp. — La Fontaine. 
 ^OTHINGr more dangerous than a Friend without discretion ; 
 even a prudent Enemy is preferable. 
 
 dFnnt UlSi) tp. — From the Latin. 
 C\F no worldly good can the enjoyment be perfect, unless it is 
 shared by a Friend. 
 
 ^ttentfsfjtp. — Haziitt. 
 
 The youth of Friendship is better than its old age. 
 
 dFttCntlSijtp. — Fuller. 
 "YTAKE not thy Friends too cheap to thee, nor thyself to thy 
 Friend. 
 
 lFuettt!Si)tp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Brutus hath rived my heart: 
 A Friend should bear his Friend's infirmities, 
 But Brutus makes mine greater than they are 
 
 dFnentJSinp.— Havard. 
 
 I have too deeply read Mankind 
 To be amused with Friendship; 'tis a name 
 Invented merely to betray credulity : 
 'Tis intercourse of Interest — not of Souls. 
 P 
 
164 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ,iFcicntJSi)tp. — Clarendon. 
 "FRIENDSHIP is compounded of all those soft ingredients which 
 can insinuate themselves and slide insensibly into the nature 
 and temper of men of the most different constitutions, as well as 
 of those strong and active spirits which can make their way into 
 perverse and obstinate dispositions ) and because Discretion is 
 always predominant in it, it works and prevails least upon Fools, 
 Wicked men are often reformed by it, weak men seldom. 
 
 jftmXbSfyiV.— Fuller. 
 PURCHASE not Friends by gifts ; when thou ceasest to give, 
 such will cease to love. 
 
 dPrietttfS f)tp. — Savage. 
 YOU'LL find the Friendship of the World a show ! 
 Mere outward show ! 'Tis like the harlot's tears, 
 The statesman's promise, or false patriot's zeal, 
 Full of fair seeming, but delusion all. 
 
 df ncntfSijtp. — Addison. 
 The Friendships of the World are oft 
 Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure. 
 
 jFrinrtfSfjtp.— Trap. 
 Friendship must be accompanied with Virtue, 
 And always lodged in great and gen'rous Minds. 
 
 jFrieirtJgf)tp. — Blair. 
 FRIENDSHIP ! mysterious cement of the Soul ! 
 
 Sweet'ner of Life and solder of Society ! 
 I owe thee much. Thou hast deserved of me 
 Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. 
 Oft have I proved the labours of thy Love, 
 And the warm efforts of the gentle Heart 
 Anxious to please. 
 
 Jf rienilSfn'p, — Spenser. 
 'W'E, certes can that Friendship long endure, 
 
 However gay and goodly be the style, 
 That doth ill cause or evill end enure, 
 For Vertue is the band that bindeth Harts most sure 
 
 dPricntlSijtp.— Lee. 
 In their nonage, a sympathy 
 Unusual join'd their Loves: 
 They pair'd like Turtles; still together drank, 
 Together eat, nor quarrell'd for the choice. 
 Like twining Streams both from one Fountain fell, 
 And as they ran still mingled smiles and tears. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 1G5 
 
 dFttettfcSJjtp. —Addison. 
 Great Souls by instinct to each other turn, 
 Demand Alliance, and in Friendship burn. 
 
 jfxm\1}8\)i$. — Dr!/den. 
 
 I CAN forgive 
 A Foe, but not a Mistress, and a Friend : 
 Treason is there in its most horrid shape, 
 Where trust is greatest ! and the Soul resign'd 
 Is stabb'd by her own guards. 
 
 jFrtentlSf)tp. — Fuller. 
 ATAKE not a Bosom Friend of a melancholy soul : he'll be sure 
 to aggravate thy adversity, and lessen thy prosperity. He 
 goes always heavy loaded; and thou must bear half. He's never 
 in a good humour; and may easily get into a bad one, and fall out 
 with thee. 
 
 jFrugalt'tp. — Burke. 
 "PRUGALITY is founded on the principle, that all riches have 
 limits. 
 
 jFtUgalttJf*— Johnson. 
 
 "pRUGALITY may be termed the Daughter of Prudence, the 
 Sister of Temperance, and the Parent of Liberty. He that is 
 extravagant will quickly become Poor, and Poverty will enforce 
 dependence, and invite corruption. 
 
 jFrugalttp.— Cicero. 
 The World has not yet learned the Riches of Frugality. 
 
 Cf)e future. — Seneca. 
 'THE state of that Man's Mind who feels too intense an interest 
 as to Future Events, must be most deplorable. 
 
 ^Future Stat*. —Addison. 
 "V^THY will any man be so impertinently officious as to tell me 
 all prospect of a Future State is only fancy and delusion ? 
 Is there any merit in being the messenger of ill news? If it is a 
 dream, let me enjoy it, since it makes me both the happier and 
 better man. 
 
 ^Future State. — Cicero. 
 'THERE is, I know not how, in the minds of men, a certain 
 presage, as it were, of a Future Existence, and this takes the 
 deepest root, and is most discoverable, in the greatest geniuses and 
 most exalted souls. 
 
166 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ,-fFuture State. — Coiton. 
 
 TEAVEN may have happiness as utterly unknown to us, as the 
 gift of perfect vision would be to a man born blind. If we 
 consider the inlets of pleasure from five senses only, we may be 
 sure that the same Being who created us, could have given us five 
 hundred, if he had pleased. Mutual love, pure and exalted, founded 
 on charms both mental and corporeal, as it constitutes the highest 
 happiness on earth, may, for any thing we know to the contrary, 
 also form the lowest happiness of Heaven. And it would appear 
 consonant with the administration of Providence in other matters, 
 that there should be such a link between Earth and Heaven ; for, 
 in all cases, a Chasm seems to he purposely avoided "prudente Deo." 
 Thus, the Material World has its links, by which it is made to shake 
 hands, as it were, with the Vegetable, — the vegetable with the 
 Animal, — the animal with the Intellectual, — and the intellectual 
 with what we may be allowed to hope of the Angelic. 
 
 a ^Future State. — Dryden. 
 Sure there is none but fears a Future State; 
 And when the most obdurate swear they do not, 
 Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues. 
 
 a dFuture State.— Dryden. 
 T)IVINES but peep on undiscover'd worlds, 
 
 And draw the distant landscape as they please; 
 But who has e'er return' d from those bright regions, 
 To tell their manners, and relate their laws. 
 
 dFutttritg. — Shakspeare. 
 f\ Heaven ! that one might read the Book of Fate, 
 
 And see the revolution of the times 
 Make mountains level, and the continent, 
 Weary of solid firmness, melt itself 
 Into the sea. 
 
 Oh, if this were seen, 
 The happiest youth, — viewing his progress through, 
 What perils past, what crosses to ensue, — 
 Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 
 
 jFuttmtg.— Pope. 
 
 CEE dying vegetables life sustain, 
 
 See life dissolving, vegetate again : 
 All forms tbat perish other forms supply, 
 (By turns we catch the vital breath and die,) 
 Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne, 
 They rise, they break, and to that sea return. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 167 
 
 Nothing is foreign; parts relate to whole; 
 One all-extending, all-preserving soul 
 Connects each being, greatest with the least; 
 Made beast in aid of man, and man of beast; 
 All served, all serving: nothing stands alone; 
 The chain holds on, and where it ends unknown. 
 
 ©ambling. — Lavakr. 
 
 IT is possible that a wise and good man may be prevailed on to 
 game; but it is impossible that a professed Gamester should be 
 a wise and good man. 
 
 ©ambling. — Tom Brown. 
 Gaming finds man a cully, and leaves him a knave. 
 
 ©ambling. — Steele. 
 
 THERE is nothing that wears out a fine face like the vigils of 
 the Card-table, and those cutting passions which naturally 
 attend them. Hollow eyes, haggard looks, and pale complexions 
 are the natural indications of a female Gamester. Her morning 
 sleeps are not able to repay her midnight watchings. 
 
 ©ambling. — La Bruyere. 
 
 AN assembly of the states, a court of justice, shows nothing so 
 
 serious and grave as a Table of Gamesters playing very high ; 
 
 a melancholy solicitude clouds their looks; envy and rancour agitate 
 
 their minds while the meeting lasts, without regard to friendship, 
 
 alliances, birth, or distinctions. 
 
 Game* anto Sport*.— FuUer. 
 
 TAKE heed to avoid all those Games and Sports that are apt to 
 take up much of thy time, or engage thy affections. He that 
 spends all his life in Sports, is like one who wears nothing but 
 fringes, and eats nothing but sauces. 
 
 STfje (Garden in Cotott/— cbwper. 
 
 ~pVN in the stifling bosom of the Town, 
 
 A Garden in which nothing thrives has charms 
 That soothe the rich possessor; much consoled 
 That here and there some sprigs of mournful mint, 
 Of nightshade or valerian, grace the wall 
 He cultivates. 
 
 &f)e <B?ag. — Cmoper. 
 "\VHOM call we gay ? That honour has been long 
 
 The boast of mere pretenders to the name. 
 The innocent are gay — the Lark is gay, 
 That dries his feathers saturate with Dew 
 Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams 
 Of Day-spring overshot his humble nest. 
 
168 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 4&tnttQ8itgl. — Grevffle. 
 
 QNE great reason why men practise Generosity so littlo in tlie 
 world is, their finding so little there : Generosity is catching • 
 and if so many men escape it, it is in a great degree from the same 
 reason that countrymen escape the Small-pox, — because they meet 
 with no one to give it them. 
 
 ^zmxmii^ — Lucan. 
 
 [JNLIKE the ribald, whose licentious jest 
 
 Pollutes his banquet, and insults his guest; 
 From wealth and grandeur easy to descend, 
 Thou joy'st to lose the Master in the Friend : 
 We round thy Board the cheerful menials see, 
 Gay with the smile of bland Equality • 
 No social care the gracious lord disdains; 
 Love prompts to Love, and Reverence Reverence gains. 
 
 (£etterO0tt;p. — Skakspeare. 
 Oh ! the World is but a word ; 
 Were it all yours, to give it in a breath, 
 How quickly were it gone ! 
 
 (fcetterOSttg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Poor honest lord, brought low by his own Heart ; 
 
 Undone by Goodness ! Strange, unusual Blood, 
 
 When Man's worst sin is, he does too much Good ! 
 
 <S*etttU&— Plautus. 
 
 How oft we see the greatest Genius buried in obscurity. 
 
 <&entUS.— Anon. 
 1 T is a lesson which Genius and Wisdom of every kind must learn, 
 that its kingdom is not of this world. It must learn to know 
 this, and to be content that this should be so, to be content with 
 the thought of a Kingdom in a higher, less transitory region. Then 
 perad venture may the saying be fulfilled with regard to it, that he 
 who is ready to lose his life shall save it. The Wisdom which aims 
 at something nobler and more lasting than the Kingdom of this 
 World, may now and then find that the Kingdom of this World 
 will also fall into its lap. 
 
 (&miM. — Anon. 
 ~pEW Minds are sun-like, sources of light in themselves and to 
 others. Many more are Moons, that shine with a derivative 
 and reflected light. Among the tests to distinguish them is this : 
 the former are always full, the latter only now and then, when their 
 Suns are shining full upon them. 
 
 (£etttUS. — Seneca. 
 There is no great Genius free from some tincture of Madness. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 109 
 
 Genius. — Swift. 
 
 \\THEN a true Genius appears in the world, you may know him 
 by this sign, that the Dunces are all in confederacy against 
 him. 
 
 <&entUS. — Sir J. Reynolds. 
 ^[.ENIUS is supposed to be a power of producing excellences whicli 
 are out of the reach of the rules of Art : a power which no pre- 
 cepts can teach, and which no industry can acquire. 
 
 (&eni\\8. — Aristotle. 
 "THERE is no distinguished Genius altogether exempt from some 
 infusion of Madness. 
 
 (SentUS. — Cicero. 
 TO be endowed with Strength by Nature, to be actuated by the 
 powers of the Mind, and to have a certain Spirit almost Divine 
 infused into you. 
 
 <&entU!3. — Anon. 
 SECONDARY men, men of talents, may be mixed up, like an 
 apothecary's prescription, of so many grains of one quality, and 
 so many of another. But Genius is one, individual, indivisible : 
 like a star, it dwells alone. That which is essential in a Man of 
 Genius, his central spirit, shows itself once, and passes away never 
 to return : and in few men is this more conspicuous than in Milton, 
 in whom there is nothing Homeric, and hardly any thing Virgilian 
 In sooth, one might as accurately describe the elephant, as being 
 made up of the force of the lion and the strength of the tiger. 
 
 (Senilis. — Coiton. 
 
 THE greatest Genius is never so great, as when it is chastised 
 and subdued by the highest Reason. 
 
 (fetniM. — Horace. 
 He alone can claim this name, who writes 
 With Fancy high, and bold and daring Flights. 
 
 Senilis. — Horace. 
 VOUR friend is passionate ; perhaps unfit 
 For the brisk petulance of modern wit : 
 His hair ill cut, his robe that awkward flows, 
 Or his large shoes, to raillery expose 
 
 The man 
 
 But underneath this rough, uncouth disguise 
 A Genius of extensive Knowledge lies. 
 
 ©enillS.— S. T. Coleridge. 
 TALENT, lying in the Understanding, is often inherited ; Genius, 
 being the action of Reason and Imagination, rare!}' or never 
 
l7U ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ©fttUUg. — Cicero. 
 
 All Great Men are in some degree Inspired. 
 
 (SnttUS. — Colton. 
 T^HE drafts which true Genius draws upon posterity, although 
 they may not always be honoured so soon as they are due, are 
 sure to be paid with compound interest in the end. Milton's ex- 
 pressions on his right to this remuneration, constitute some of the 
 finest efforts of his mind. 
 
 <SentU0. — Lavater. 
 HTHE proportion of Genius to the vulgar is like one to a million ; 
 but Genius without Tyranny, without Pretension, that judges 
 the weak with Equity, the superior with Humanity, and equals 
 with Justice, is like one to ten millions. 
 
 <&entUS. _ Crabbe. 
 Q .ENIUS ! thou Gift of Heaven ! thou Light divine ! 
 
 Amid what dangers art thou doom'd to shine ! 
 Oft will the body's weakness check thy force, 
 Oft damp thy Vigour, and impede thy course ; 
 And trembling nerves compel thee to restrain 
 Thy noble efforts, to contend with pain ; 
 Or Want (sad guest !) will in thy presence come, 
 And breathe around her melancholy gloom ) 
 To life's low cares will thy proud thought confine, 
 And make her sufferings, her impatience, thine. 
 
 (SJentUS. — Longfellow. 
 1VTEN of genius are often dull and inert in society ; as the blazing 
 meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone. 
 
 Cf)e Gentleman. — Shaftesbury. 
 THHE taste of Beauty, and the relish of what is decent, just and 
 amiable, perfects the character of the Gentleman and the Philo- 
 sopher. And the study of such a taste or relish will, as we suppose, 
 be ever the great employment and concern of him who covets as 
 well to be wise and good, as agreeable and polite. 
 
 Cfje Gentleman.— Hare. 
 
 A CHRISTIAN is God Almighty's Gentleman : a Gentleman in 
 the vulgar, superficial way of understanding the word, is the 
 Devil's Christian. But to throw aside these polished and too cur- 
 rent counterfeits for something valuable and sterling, the Real Gen- 
 tleman should be gentle in every thing, at least in every thing that 
 depends on himself, — in carriage, temper, constructions, aims, de- 
 sires. He ought therefore to be mild, calm, quiet, even, temperate, — 
 not hasty in judgment, not exorbitant in ambition, not overbearing, 
 not proud, not rapacious, not oppressive; for these things are con 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 171 
 
 trary to Gentleness. Many such Gentlemen are to be found, I trust; 
 and many more would be were the true meaning of the name borne 
 in mind and duly inculcated. 
 
 Cf)e Gentleman. — Steele. 
 
 TT is no very uncommon thing in the World to meet with Men of 
 Probity ; there are likewise a great many Men of Honour to be 
 found. Men of Courage, Men of Sense, and Men of Letters, are 
 frequent ; but a True Gentleman is what one seldom sees. He is 
 properly a compound of the various good qualities that embellish 
 mankind. As the great poet animates all the different parts of 
 learning by the force of his genius, and irradiates all the compass 
 of his knowledge by the lustre and brightness of his imagination; 
 so all the great and solid perfections of life appear in the Finished 
 Gentleman, with a beautiful gloss and varnish; every thing he says 
 or does is accompanied with a manner, or rather a charm, that 
 draws the admiration and good-will of every beholder. 
 
 CJ)e Gentleman. — Coiton. 
 
 TTE that can enjoy the intimacy of the Great, and on no occasion 
 disgust them by familiarity, or disgrace himself by servility, 
 proves that he is as perfect a Gentleman by Nature, as his compa- 
 nions are by Rank. 
 
 GtftS. — Shakspeare. 
 AND, with them, words of so sweet breath composed 
 As made the things more rich : their perfume lost, 
 Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
 Rich Gifts wax poor, when Givers prove unkind. 
 
 GtftS. — Fuller. 
 /^j-lVE freely to him that deserveth well, and asketh nothing : and 
 that is a way of giving to thyself. 
 
 GtftS. — Seneca. 
 There is no grace in a Benefit that sticks to the fingers. 
 
 GiftS. — Lavater. 
 A GIFT — its kind, its value and appearance ; the silence or the 
 pomp that attends it; the style in which it reaches you, may 
 decide the dignity or vulgarity of the Giver. 
 
 (QiftZ. — Ovid. 
 "PRESENTS which our love for the Donor has rendered precious 
 are ever the most acceptable. 
 
 GtftS. — Cato. 
 HTENDER not twice to any man the Favours you may have it in 
 your power to confer, and be not too loquacious, while ycu 
 wish to be esteemed for your kindness. 
 
172 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 vSIon?. — B- 
 
 T'HERE shall they rot — ambition's honour'd fools. 
 
 Yes. Honour decks the turf that wraps their clay . 
 Vain sophistry ! in these behold the tools, 
 
 The brokeu tools, that tyrants cast away 
 By myriads, when they dare to pave their way 
 
 With human hearts — to what ? — a dream alone. 
 
 OlOn?. — Byron. 
 "Y^EDALS, Ranks, Ribbands, Lace, Embroidery, Scarlet, 
 
 Are things immortal to a mortal man, 
 As purple to the Babylonian harlot : 
 An Uniform to boys is like a fan 
 To women ; there is scarce a crimson varlet 
 
 But deems himself the first in Glory's van. 
 But Glory's Glory ; and if you would find 
 "What that is — ask the pig who sees the wind ! 
 
 t&lOCg.— Dryden. 
 The brave abroad fight for the wise at home : 
 You are but camp chameleons, fed with air ; 
 Thin Fame is all the bravest hero's share. 
 
 ffirtotg. — Byron. 
 
 ^HE Groan, the Roll in Dust, the all-white Eye 
 
 Turn'd back within its socket,: — these reward 
 Your rank and file by thousands, while the rest 
 May win perhaps a Ribbon at the breast. 
 
 GlOCg.— Cowper. 
 
 T ET eternal infamy pursue 
 
 The wretch to naught but his Ambition true, 
 Who for the sake of filling with one blast 
 The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste. 
 
 Glorg.— Byron. 
 TV"HAT boots the oft-repeated tale of strife, 
 
 The feast of vultures, and the waste of life ? 
 The varying fortune of each separate field, 
 The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield ? 
 The smoking ruin and the crumbled wall ? 
 In this the struggle was the same with all. 
 
 Glorp. — Young. 
 (~)XE to destroy is murder by the law, 
 
 And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe : 
 To murder thousands takes a specious name, 
 War's Glorious art, and gives immortal Fame. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 173 
 
 <£lorg (sacking a iEitg.) — Byron. 
 
 A LL that the mind would shrink from of excesses ; 
 
 All that the body perpetrates of bad ; 
 All that we read, hear, dream of man's distresses; 
 All that the Devil would do if run stark mad ; 
 All that defies the worst which pen expresses ; 
 
 All by which Hell is peopled, or as sad 
 As Hell — mere mortals who their power abuse, — 
 Was here (as heretofore and since) let loose. 
 
 (&lCitg. — Porteus. 
 
 Whole kingdoms fell 
 To sate the Lust of Power : more horrid still, 
 The foulest stain and scandal of our nature 
 Became its boast. One murder made a villain ; 
 Millions a Hero. 
 Numbers sanctified the crime. 
 
 (kiOtg. — Byron. 
 J^NOUGH of battle's minions ! let them play 
 
 Their game of lives, and barter breath for Fame ; 
 Fame that will scarce reanimate their clay, 
 
 Though thousands fall to deck some single name. 
 In ^ootb 'twere sad to thwart their noble aim, 
 Who strike, blest hirelings ! for their country's good, 
 And die, that living might have proved her shame. 
 
 (Sluq). — Cicero. 
 nTRUE Glory takes root, and even spreads : all false pretences, 
 like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last 
 long. 
 
 (Glorg.— Wayland. 
 'THE aged crone, or the smooth-tongued beadle, as now he hurries 
 you through aisles and chapel, utters, with measured cadence and 
 unmeaning tone, for the thousandth time, the name and lineage of 
 the once honoured dead ; and then gladly dismisses you, to repeat 
 again his well-conned lesson to another group of idle passers-by. 
 Such, in its most august form, is all the immortality that matter 
 
 can confer It is by what we ourselves have done, and not by 
 
 what others have done for us, that we shall be remembered by after 
 ages. It is by thought that has aroused my intellect from its 
 slumbers, which has " given lustre to virtue, and dignity to truth," 
 or by those examples which have inflamed my soul with the love of 
 goodness, and not by means of sculptured marble, that I hold com- 
 munion with Shakspeare and Milton, with Johnson and Burke, with 
 Howard and Wilberforce. 
 
174 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)e ©lUttOn. — Shahspeare. 
 Fat Paunches have lean Pates ; and dainty Bits 
 Make rich the ribs, but bank'rout quite the Wits. 
 
 Cf)e <&lumn.— Joanna Baillie. 
 Some men are born to feast, and not to fight ; 
 Whose sluggish Minds, e'en in fair Honour's field, 
 Still on their Dinner turn. 
 
 €f)e Glutton. — Milton. 
 
 Swinish Gluttony 
 Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous Feast, 
 But with besotted, base ingratitude 
 Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. 
 
 2Tf)e (felUttim.— Juvenal. 
 Such, whose sole bliss is eating, who can give 
 But that one brutal reason why they live. 
 
 Cf)e <&luttOtt. — South. 
 TTE that prolongs his Meals, and sacrifices his time, as well as 
 his other conveniences, to his Luxury, how quickly does he 
 outset his pleasure ! And then, how is all the following time be- 
 stowed upon Ceremony and Surfeit ! until at length, after a long 
 fatigue of eating, and drinking, and babbling, he concludes the 
 great work of dining genteelly, and so makes a shift to rise from 
 table, that he may lie down upon his bed; where, after he has slept 
 himself into some use of himself, by much ado he staggers to his 
 table again, and there acts over the same brutish scene : so that he 
 passes his whole life in a dozed condition, between sleeping and 
 waking, with a kind of drowsiness and confusion upon his senses, 
 which what pleasure it can be, is hard to conceive. All that is of 
 it, dwells upon the tip of his tongue, and within the compass of his 
 palate. A worthy prize for a man to purchase with the loss of his 
 time, his reason, and himself. 
 
 (E^Oti. —Horace. 
 "\\THO guides below, and rules above, 
 
 The great Disposer, and the mighty King; 
 Than He none greater, next Him none, 
 That can be, is, or was : 
 Supreme He singly fills the Throne. 
 
 (ErCltr. — Boeihius. 
 Z^-IVE me, Father, to thy throne access, 
 
 Unshaken seat of endless happiness ! 
 Give me, unvail'd, the Source of Good to see ! 
 Give me Thy light, and fix mine eyes on Thee ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 175 
 
 (ErOtf. — Jacobi. 
 TITHAT is there in Man so worthy of honour and reverence as 
 this, — that he is capable of contemplating something higher 
 than his own reason, more sublime than the whole universe; that 
 Spirit which alone is self-subsistent, from which all truth proceeds, 
 without which is no truth ? 
 
 ingratitude tO (Soft. — Seneca. 
 "VTTE can be thankful to a friend for a few acres, or a little 
 money ; and yet for the freedom and command of the whole 
 earth, and for the great benefits of our Being, our Life, Health, 
 and Reason, we look upon ourselves as under no obligation. 
 
 ©oVg beneficence. — Burke. 
 
 'THOSE things that are not practicable, are not desirable. There 
 is nothing in the world really beneficial, that does not lie 
 within the reach of an informed understanding and a w* 11-directed 
 pursuit. There is nothing that God has judged good for us, that 
 He has not given us the means to accomplish, both in the natural 
 and the moral world. 
 
 ittOCfcinfl <5lrtl.— Casaubon. 
 TT is a common frenzy of the ignorant multitude, to be always 
 engaging Heaven on their side ; and indeed it is a successful 
 stratagem of any general to gain authority among his soldiers, if 
 he can persuade them he is the man by Fate appointed for such or 
 such an action, though most impracticable. 
 
 (GOVS \tititt1SUW. — Shahspeare. 
 VOU snatch some hence for little faults ; that's love, 
 
 To have them fall no more : you some permit 
 To second ills with ills, each elder worse ; 
 And make them dread it to the doer's thrift. 
 
 £ttiVLQ <&0u\ — SchleiermacTier. 
 T ET the majestic serenity with which you estimate the great 
 and the small, prove that you refer every thing to the Immu- 
 table, — that you perceive the Godhead alike in every thing; let the 
 bright cheerfulness with which you encounter every proof of our 
 transitory nature, reveal to all men that you live above time and 
 above the world ; let your easy and graceful self-denial prove how 
 many of the bonds of egotism you have already broken ; and let 
 the ever quick and open spirit from which neither what is rarest 
 nor most ordinary escapes, show with what unwearied ardour ycu 
 seek for every trace of the Godhead, with what eagerness you 
 watch for its slightest manifestation. If your whole life, and every 
 movement of your outward and inward being, is thus guided by 
 religion, perhaps the hearts of many will be touched by this mute 
 
176 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 language, and will open to the reception of that spirit which dwells 
 within you. 
 
 00 ft. — Shakspeare. 
 Foul-cankertng rust the hidden Treasure frets; 
 But Gold, that's put to use, more Gold begets. 
 
 00ft. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, what a world of vile ill-favour' d faults 
 Looks handsome in Three Hundred Pounds a year. 
 
 00ft. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Why this 
 Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; 
 Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads : 
 This Yellow Slave 
 
 Will knit and break religions ) bless the accursed ; 
 Make the hoar leprosy adored; place thieves, 
 And give them title, knee, and approbation, 
 With senators on the bench. 
 
 This is it, 
 That makes the wappen'd widow wed again : 
 She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores 
 Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices 
 To the April day again. 
 For this, the foolish over-careful fathers 
 Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care, 
 Their bones with industry. 
 
 (ElCft. — Shakspeare. 
 'THERE is thy Gold ; worse Poison to men's souls, 
 
 Doing more murders in this loathsome world, 
 Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell : 
 I sell thee Poison, thou hast sold me none. 
 
 <&0 ft. — Shakspeare. 
 C\ THOU sweet King-killer, and dear Divorce 
 
 'Twixt natural son and sire ! thou bright Defiler 
 Of Hymen's purest bed ! thou valiant Mars ! 
 Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate Wooer, 
 Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow 
 That lies on Dian's lap ! thou visible God, 
 That solder'st close impossibilities, 
 
 And makest them kiss ! that speak'st with every tongue, 
 To every purpose ! thou Touch of Hearts ! 
 Think, thy slave Man lebels; and by thy virtue 
 Set them into confounding odds, that beasts 
 May have the world in empire ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. ITT 
 
 (HottJ. — Shdkspeare. 
 How quickly nature 
 Falls to revolt, when Gold becomes her object ! 
 
 (Soft. — Addison. 
 A MAN who is furnished with arguments from the Mint, will 
 convince his antagonist much sooner than one who draws them 
 from Reason and Philosophy. Gold is a wonderful clearer of the 
 understanding; it dissipates every doubt and scruple in an instant ; 
 accommodates itself to the meanest capacities ; silences the loud 
 and clamorous, and brings over the most obstinate and inflexible. 
 Philip of Macedon was a man of most invincible reason this way. 
 He refuted by it all the wisdom of Athens, confounded their states- 
 men, struck their orators dumb, and at length argued them out of 
 all their liberties. 
 
 i^OltJ. — Sliakspeare. 
 ^J-IVE him Gold enough, and marry him to a puppet, or an aglet- 
 baby ; or an old trot with ne'er a tooth in her head, though 
 she have as many diseases as two and fifty horses j why, nothing 
 comes amiss, so money comes withal. 
 
 <80ttJ.— Dekker. 
 TTE that upon his back Rich Garments wears, 
 
 Is wise, though on his head grow Midas' ears : 
 Gold is the strength, the sinews of the world ; 
 The health, the soul, the beauty most divine ; 
 A mask of Gold hides all deformities ; 
 Gold is Heaven's Physic, Life's Restorative. 
 
 0Olu\ — Massinger. 
 Here's music 
 In this Bag shall wake her, though she had drunk opium, 
 
 Or eaten mandrakes. 
 
 ***** 
 
 The Picklock 
 That never fails. 
 
 <^0rtJ. — Johnson. 
 The lust of Gold succeeds the lust of conquests ; 
 The lust of Gold, unfeeling and remorseless, 
 The last corruption of degenerate Man. 
 
 <&0ltl. — Shakspeare. 
 'JTIAT Broker, that still breaks the pate of Faith ; 
 
 That daily Break-vow ; he that wins of all, 
 Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids — 
 Who having no external thing to lose 
 But the word Maid, — cheats the poor maid of that. 
 
178 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (KOHL — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis Gold 
 Which buys admittance, (oft it doth,) yea, makes 
 Diana's rangers, false themselves, yield up 
 Their deer to th' stand o' th' stealer : and 'tis Gold 
 "Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thief; 
 Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true man : what 
 Can it not do, and undo ? 
 
 <£ottf» — Horace. 
 gTRONGER than Thunder's winged force, 
 All-powerful Gold can spread its course, 
 Through watchful guards its passage make 
 And loves through solid walls to break : 
 From Gold the overwhelming woes 
 That crush'd the Grecian augur rose : 
 Philip- with Gold through Cities broke, 
 And rival Monarchs felt his yoke. 
 
 ©Oft.— Anon. 
 J^PICHARMUS, indeed, calls the Winds, the Water, the Earth, 
 the Sun, the Fire, and the Stars, Gods. But I am of opinion, 
 that Gold and Silver are our only powerful and propitious Deities. 
 For when once you have introduced these into your house, wish for 
 what you will, you shall quickly obtain it ; an Estate, a Habita- 
 tion, Servants, Plate, Friends, Judges, Witnesses. 
 
 <£0ltf.— Colton 
 'THERE are two Metals, one of which is omnipotent in the Cabi- 
 net, and the other in the Camp, — Gold and Iron. He that 
 knows how to apply them both, may indeed attain the highest sta- 
 tion, but he must know something more to' keep it. 
 
 <&00tJ from JftM.— Goldsmith. 
 T?EAR guides more to their duty than Gratitude ; for one Man 
 who is virtuous from the Love of Virtue, from the obligation 
 which he thinks he lies under to the Giver of all, there are ten thou- 
 sand who are good only from their Apprehensions of Punishment. 
 
 HBrjtng <&00tJ. — Seneca. 
 T-TE that does Good to another man, does also Good to himself; 
 not only in the consequence, but in the very act of doing it; 
 for the Conscience of well-doing is an ample reward. 
 
 BO trig <£00t(. — Shaftesbury. 
 "^"EVER did any soul do Good, but it came readier to do the same 
 again, with more enjoyment. Never was Love, or Gratitude, 
 or Bounty practised but with increasing Joy, which made the prac- 
 tiser still more in love with the fair act. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 170 
 
 BOtltg tSGOtl. — Cicero. 
 TX nothing do men approach so nearly to the Gods, as in giving 
 health to men. 
 
 DOtTtg ©OOtr. — La Bruyere. 
 
 TTE is Good that does Good to others. If he suffers for the Good 
 he does, he is better still ; and if he suffers from them to whom 
 he did Good, he is arrived to that height of Goodness, that nothing 
 but an increase of his sufferings can add to it : if it proves his death, 
 his Virtue is at its summit; it is Heroism complete. 
 
 SootJ an* EUdFottune. — Anon. 
 
 \\TE often live under a Cloud ; and it is well for us that we should 
 do so. Uninterrupted Sunshine would parch our hearts : we 
 want Shade and Rain to cool and refresh them. Only it behooves 
 us to take care, that, whatever Cloud may be spread over us, it 
 should be a Cloud of Witnesses. And every Cloud may be such, 
 if we can only look through to the Sunshine that broods behind it. 
 
 <&0fjtJ Ji)UmOUr.— Greville. 
 £J.OOD Humour will sometimes conquer 111 Humour, but 111 Hu- 
 mour will conquer it oftener; and for this plain reason, Good 
 Humour must operate on Generosity; 111 Humour on Meanness. 
 
 i^XtCCme (£00tJ Nature. — Terence. 
 ^yH AT shall we call it ? Folly, or Good Nature ? 
 
 So soft, so simple, and so kind a creature ! 
 Where Charity so blindly plays its part, 
 It only shows the weakness of her heart. 
 
 (SOOtmeSS. — Anon. 
 THRUE Goodness is like the glowworm in this, that it shines most 
 when no eyes, except those of Heaven, are upon it. 
 
 (GOOtmeSS. — Bishop Hall. 
 A GOOD Man is kinder to his Enemy than Bad Men are to their 
 Friends. 
 
 <&00ti aittJ yZkiX. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 ClOME Bad People would be less dangerous if they had not some 
 Goodness. 
 
 <£00}l aittl ISbtl La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 "^"0 man deserves to be praised for his Goodness unless he ha.s 
 strength of character to be wicked. 
 
 (£00ti atttJ 32utL — Shakspeare. 
 TN Nature, there's no blemish, but the Mind ; 
 
 None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind ; 
 Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous evil 
 Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the Devil. 
 Q2 
 
180 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 0COtJ anil ISSsiL—Lord Bacon. 
 HTHE Rabbins note a principle of nature, that putrefaction is 
 more dangerous before maturity than after, and another noteth 
 a position in moral philosophy, that men abandoned to Vice do not 
 so much corrupt manners as those that are half Good and half 
 Evil. 
 
 (Booli atttr lEhi\.—Anon. 
 
 'THE difference between those whom the World esteems as Good, 
 and those whom it condemns as Bad, is in many cases little else 
 than that the former have been better sheltered from temptation. 
 
 (BOOti aitll W&\L—Anon. 
 r^PEN Evil at all events does this Good : it keeps Good on the 
 alert. When there is no likelihood of an enemy's approach- 
 ing, the garrison slumber on their post. 
 
 (gfJOll antl WbiL — Shakspeare. 
 "\7"IRTUE, as it never will be moved, 
 
 Though Lewdness court it in a shape of Heaven ; 
 So Lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, 
 Will sate itself in a celestial bed, 
 And prey on garbage. 
 
 <500lf antl W&iL — Shakspeare. 
 There is some Soul of Goodness in things Evil, 
 Would men observingly distil it out. 
 
 (Bool* anil ISbtl. — Cotton. 
 XTATURAL Good is so intimately connected with Moral Good, 
 and Natural Evil with Moral Evil, that I am as certain as if I 
 heard a voice from Heaven proclaim it, that God is on the side of 
 Virtue. He has learnt much, and has not lived in vain, who has 
 practically discovered that most strict and necessary connection, 
 that does, and will ever exist, between Vice and Misery, and Virtue 
 and Happiness. 
 
 (grjOlf anil ISbiL — S. T. Coleridge. 
 A S there is much Beast and some Devil in Man, so is there some 
 Angel and some God in him. The Beast and the Devil may 
 be conquered, but in this life never destroyed. 
 
 <§fJ0ll antJ lEbtl.— Hare. 
 TT is a proof of our natural bias to Evil, that gain is slower and 
 harder than loss, in all things Good : but in all things bad, 
 getting is quicker and easier than getting rid of. 
 
 (BOOtJ anil ISbtL — S. T. Coleridge. 
 'THE history of all the World tells us, that Immoral Means will 
 ever intercept Good Ends. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 181 
 
 <£ootr antf l£h\L — Anon. 
 
 TTE who has observed how throughout History, while Man is con- 
 tinually misusing Good, and turning it into Evil, the overruling 
 sway of God's Providence Out of Evil is ever bringing forth Good, 
 will never be cast down, or led to despond, or to slacken his efforts, 
 however untoward the immediate aspect of things may appear. 
 For he will know that, whenever he is labouring in the cause of 
 Heaven, the powers of Heaven are working with him ; that, though 
 the Good he is aiming at may not be attainable in the very form 
 he has in view, the ultimate result will assuredly be Good ; that, 
 were man diligent in fulfilling his part, this result would be im- 
 mediate ; and that no one who is thus diligent shall lose his 
 precious reward, of seeing that every Good Deed is a part of the 
 life of the world. 
 
 (Dootl arib ISbtL — S. T. Coleridge. 
 Good and Bad Men are each less so than they seem. 
 
 CSnnfc atttl IB^iL— Sterne. 
 V\TE are born to Trouble ; and we may depend upon it whilst we 
 live in this world we shall have it, though with intermissions: 
 that is, in whatever state we are, we shall find a mixture of Good 
 and Evil; and therefore the true way to Contentment is to know 
 how to receive these certain vicissitudes of life, — the returns of 
 Good and Evil, so as neither to be exalted by the one, or over- 
 thrown by the other, but to bear ourselves toward every thing 
 which happens with such ease and indifference of mind, as tc 
 hazard as little as may be. 
 
 d3ootj an* iSbtL— Milton. 
 
 fZ[-OOD and Evil, we know, in the field of this world grow up to- 
 gether almost inseparably : and the Knowledge of Good is so in- 
 volved and interwoven with the Knowledge of Evil, and in so many 
 cunning resemblances hardly to be discerned, that those confused 
 seeds which were imposed upon Psyche as an incessant labour to 
 cull out and sort asunder, were not more intermixed. It was 
 from out the rind of one Apple tasted, that the Knowledge of 
 Good and Evil, as two Twins cleaving together, leaped forth into 
 the world. 
 
 (SoOfc tot W&iL — Shdkspeare. 
 'THE strawberry grows underneath the nettle, 
 
 And wholesome berries thrive, and ripen best, 
 Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality : 
 And so the Prince obscured his contemplation 
 Under the vail of wildness; which, no doubt, 
 Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, 
 T . T nseen, yet crescive in his faculty. 
 
182 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&OCrtf for WbXL—Tillotson. 
 A MORE glorious victory cannot be gained over another man 
 than this, that when the Injury began on his part, the Kind- 
 ness should begin on ours. 
 
 <B*00tetotll. — Seneca. 
 r rHE Good-will of the benefactor is the fountain of all Benefits; 
 nay, it is the Benefit itself; or, at least, the stamp that makes 
 it valuable and current. 
 
 Cf)e ©OJSStp, — Zimmerman. 
 ]^EWS-HUNTERS have great Leisure, with little Thought; 
 much petty Ambition to be thought intelligent, without any 
 other pretension than being able to communicate what they have 
 just learnt. 
 
 (ffiobentmg*— sddm. 
 
 They that govern most make least noise. 
 
 <£obemmg. — Steele. 
 
 TF the Commission of the Peace finds out the true Gentleman, he 
 faithfully dischargeth it. I say finds him out; for a public 
 office is a Guest, which receives the best usage from them who 
 never invited it. 
 
 <&obentment.— Livy. 
 
 T\^HEN Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the best mode 
 of governing a conquered City, he replied only by beating 
 down with his Staff all the tallest Poppies in his Garden. 
 
 (KOuenttttent. — Shakspeare. 
 'THIS might have been prevented, and made whole, 
 
 With very easy Arguments of Love : 
 Which now the Manage of two kingdoms must 
 With fearful bloody Issue arbitrate. 
 
 <£obernment — Hare. 
 
 J^ STATESMAN, we are told, should follow Public Opinion. 
 Doubtless ... as a Coachman follows his horses; having firm 
 hold on the Reins, and guiding them. 
 
 Ckcbenrment. — Cowper. 
 
 COME seek Diversion in the tented field, 
 
 And make the sorrows of mankind their Sport. 
 But War's a Game, which, were their subjects wise, 
 Kings should not play at. Nations would do well 
 T' extort their truncheons from the puny hands 
 Of Heroes, whose infirm and baby minds 
 Are gratified with mischief, and who spoil 
 Because men suffer it, their toy the World. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 183 
 
 (J&obentment. — Coiton. 
 
 OUR Constitution is the proudest political Monument of the com- 
 bined and progressive wisdom of Man; throughout the whole 
 civilized World its preservation ought to be prayed for, as a choice 
 and peerless Model, uniting all the beauties of proportion with all 
 the solidity of strength. But nothing human is perfect, and expe- 
 rience has shown that this proud Monument of human Wisdom 
 wants that which its earlier designers had conceived that it pos- 
 sessed; a self-preserving power. Those, therefore, are its truest 
 friends who are most vigilant and unremitting in their efforts to 
 keep it from Corruption, and to guard it from Decay ; whose vene- 
 ration, as it regards what it has been, and whose affection, as it relates 
 to what it may be, is exceeded only by their fears for its safety, 
 when they reflect what it is. 
 
 ©Obemmettt. — Montaigne. 
 THERE is little less trouble in forming a private Family than a 
 whole Kingdom : wherever the mind is perplexed, it is an entire 
 disorder, and domestic Employments are not less troublesome for 
 being less important. 
 
 <£0bernment. — Shakspeare. 
 With common men 
 There needs too oft the Show of War to keep 
 The Substance of sweet Peace; and for a King, 
 ; Tis sometimes better to be fear' \ than loved. 
 
 • Sobewmettt. — Slidkspeare. 
 r THE Providence, that's in a watchful State, 
 
 Knows almost every grain of Pluto's Gold ; 
 Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive Deep; 
 Keeps place with thought; and almost, like the Gods, 
 Does even our thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles: 
 There is a Mystery (with which relation 
 Durst never meddle) in the Soul of State; 
 Which hath an operation more divine, 
 Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to. 
 
 <£obewment — Anon. 
 
 HTIIE true Reformer is he who creates new Institutions, and gives 
 them life and energy, and trusts to them for throwing off such 
 evil humours as may be lying in the Body Politic. The true 
 Reformer is the seminal Reformer, not the radical. And this is 
 the way the Sower, who went forth to sow His seed, did really 
 reform the World, without making any open assault to uproot what 
 Was already existing. 
 
184 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&Obernmmt. — Seneca. 
 He who too much fears Hatred, is unfit to reign. 
 
 <^0b eminent. — Shakspeare. 
 ^HE still and mental Parts, 
 
 That do contrive how many hands shall strike, 
 When Fitness call them on, and know by measure 
 Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight ; 
 Why, this hath not a finger's dignity ; 
 They call this bed-work Mapp'ry, closet War; 
 So that the Ram, that batters down the wall, 
 For the great swing and rudeness of his poise, 
 They place before his Hand that made the Engine : 
 Or those that with the Fineness of their Souls 
 By reason guide his Execution. 
 
 ©obcrnment. — Pope. 
 
 A KING may be a tool, a thing of straw ; but if he serves 
 to frighten our enemies, and secure our property, it is well 
 enough: a Scarecrow is a thing of straw, but it protects the Corn. 
 
 (kobcrnment,— Anon. 
 
 TT is a dangerous thing to try new Experiments in a Govern- 
 ment : Men do not foresee the ill consequences that must happen, 
 when they go about to alter the essential parts of it upon which 
 the whole Frame depends : for all Governments are artificial things, 
 and every part of them bar a dependence one upon another. 
 
 <£obcm tetlt — Shakspeare. 
 
 If we cannot defend our own door from the Dog, 
 Let us be worried ; and our nation lose 
 The name of Hardiness and Policy. 
 
 (kcbenunent — Coiton. 
 
 TN all Governments, there must of necessity be both the Law and 
 the Sword : Laws without Arms would give us not Liberty, but 
 Licentiousness; and Arms without Laws, would produce not Sub- 
 jection, but Slavery. 
 
 <£nbetnment, _ Montesquieu. 
 f^HANCE, or as it is here termed, Fortune, does not govern the 
 world. The truth of this position might be referred to the 
 Romans, who enjoyed a continued course of Prosperity while their 
 Government was conducted on a certain plan, and an uninterrupted 
 series of Reverses when they adopted a different one. There 
 always exist certain general causes, either moral or physical, which 
 act upon the affairs of every Monarchy, raise it to grandeur, 
 support it in its prosperity, or precipitate it to its decadence or 
 dissolution. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 185 
 
 (frobenrmcnt.— Coiton. 
 
 TT is an easj r work to govern wise men, but to govern Fools or 
 madmen, a continual Slavery. It is from the blind zeal and 
 stupidity cleaving to Superstition, it is from the ignorance, rashness, 
 and rage attending Faction, that so many mad and so sanguinary 
 Evils have destroyed men, dissolved the best Governments, and 
 thinned the greatest Nations. As a people well instructed will 
 certainly esteem the blessings they enjoy, and study public Peace 
 for their own sake, there is a great merit in instructing the people 
 and cultivating their understandings. They are certainly less 
 credulous in proportion as they are more knowing, and conse- 
 quently less liable to be the dupes of Demagogues and the property 
 of Ambition. They are not then to be surprised with false cries, 
 nor animated by imaginary danger. And wherever the under- 
 standing is well principled and informed, the passions will be 
 tame, and the heart well disposed. They, therefore, who com- 
 municate true Knowledge to their species, are true Friends to the 
 World, Benefactors to Society, and deserve all encouragement from 
 those who preside over Society, with the applause and good wishes 
 of all good and honest men. 
 
 (SrObernment. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 THE display of Clemency by Princes is, not unfrequcntly, a 
 political Manoeuvre to gain the affections of the People. 
 
 (KrjbentmCttt. — Skakspeare. 
 TT is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe : 
 
 For Peace itself should not so dull a Kingdom, 
 (Though war, nor no known quarrel, were in question,) 
 But that Defences, musters, preparations, 
 Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected, 
 As were a War in expectation. 
 
 <&Obentment. — Cornelius Nepos. 
 THE Power is detested, and miserable is the life, of him wh'. 
 wishes rather to be feared than to be loved. 
 
 (Sobemmcnt .— Skakspeare. 
 TT is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, 
 
 To curb the Will of the Nobility : 
 Suffer it, and live with such as cannot rule, 
 Nor ever will be ruled. 
 
 ©Obernment — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 4 MAN must first govern himself, ere he be fit to govern a 
 Family ; and his Family, ere he be fit to bear the Government 
 in the Commonwealth. 
 
186 ILLUSTRATIONS. OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Sobernment.— Hare. 
 
 TN times of public Dissatisfaction add readily, to gratify men's 
 wishes. So the change be made without trepidation, there is 
 no contingent danger in the changing. But it is difficult to 
 diminish safely, except in times of perfect quiet. The first is 
 giving; the last is giving up. 
 
 (Gobemment. — Shakspeare. 
 I^JOW call we our high court of Parliament; 
 
 And let us choose such limbs of noble Counsel, 
 That the great body of our State may go 
 In equal rank with the best-govern' d Nation. 
 
 (kobeWtnent. — Rousseau. 
 THE science of Government is merely a science of combinations, 
 of applications, and of exceptions, according to time, place, and 
 circumstances. 
 
 (Gobemmettt — Shakspeare, 
 Thus we debase 
 The nature of our Seats, and make the rabble 
 Call our Cares, fears j which will in time break ope 
 The locks o' the Senate, and bring in the Crows 
 To peck the Eagles. 
 
 (fccbernment.— Burke. 
 
 "DEFINED Policy ever has been the parent of Confusion; and 
 ever will be so, as long as the world endures. Plain Good 
 Intention, which is as easily discovered at the first view, as Fraud 
 is surely detected at last, is of no mean force in the Government 
 of Mankind. Genuine simplicity of heart is a healing and 
 cementing Principle. 
 
 (^Obemmcnt. — Cicero. 
 TT is necessary for a Senator to be thoroughly acquainted with 
 the Constitution ; and this is a knowledge of the most extensive 
 nature ; a matter of science, of diligence, of reflection, without which 
 no Senator can possibly be fit for his office. 
 
 <&obernment. — Tacitus. 
 
 THE repose of Nations cannot be secure without Arms, Armies 
 cannot be maintained without Pay, nor can the Pay be produced 
 except by Taxes. 
 
 <&Obemmettt. — Lord Bacon. 
 THE surest way to prevent Seditions (if the times do bear it) is 
 to take away the matter of them ; for if there be Fuel prepared, 
 it is hard to tell whence the Spark shall come that shall set it on 
 fire. 
 
■ OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 187 
 
 Sobentment.— De My. 
 
 CI OOD is never more effectually performed than when it is pro- 
 duced by slow degrees. 
 
 <&0bcrnmmt. — Tom Brovm. 
 THOUGH a soldier, in time of peace, is like a Chimney in Sum- 
 mer, yet what wise man would pluck down his Chimney be- 
 cause his almanac tells him 'tis the middle of June. 
 
 <&obernment- — Antigonus. 
 
 TTE who forms the mind of a Prince, and implants in him good 
 Principles, may see the precepts he had inculcated extend 
 through a large portion of his Subjects. 
 
 (Srobernment. — Goldsmith. 
 
 J>OLITICS resemble Religion : attempting to divest either of 
 Ceremony is the most certain method of bringing either into 
 contempt. The weak must have their inducements to admiration 
 as well as the wise; and it is the business of a sensible Govern- 
 ment to impress all ranks with a sense of subordination, whether 
 this be effected by a diamond or a virtuous edict, a sumptuary 
 law or a glass necklace. 
 
 ©Obentment- — Seneca. 
 "DOWER exercised with Violence has seldom been of long dura- 
 tion, but Temper and Moderation generally produce perma- 
 nence in all things. 
 
 ©Obewment. — Rousseau. 
 
 A CONTRACT made with its subjects by any Government, is so 
 
 far dissolved by the exercise of Despotism, that the Despot 
 
 is only able to enforce it while he continues the strongest ; but 
 
 as soon as it is practicable to expel him, he has no good grounds 
 
 on which to found a protest against the proceeding. 
 
 (Sobetnmg dFabcuritcs. — Fuller. 
 
 \yHEN a Favourite grows insolent, it is wisdom to raise another 
 into favour, who may give check to the other's Presumption. 
 
 IStttfitg (kraceS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 King-becoming Graces 
 Are Justice, Verity, Temperance, Stableness, 
 Bounty, Perseverance, Mercy, Lowliness, 
 Devotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude. 
 
 (Sratttutie. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Y\THAT causes such a miscalculation in the amount of Gratitude 
 which men expect for the favours they have done, is, that the 
 Pride of the giver and that of the receiver can never agree as tc 
 the value of the Benefit. 
 
 R 
 
188 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SratttUtie. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A LMOST every one takes a Pleasure in requiting trifling Obli- 
 gations ; many people are grateful for moderate ones ; but 
 there is scarcely any one who does not show Ingratitude for great 
 ones. 
 
 (^ratttUtie. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 YATHILE we retain the power of rendering Service, and confer- 
 ring Favours, we seldom experience Ingratitude. 
 
 <£ratttUfce.— Charron. 
 JJE who receives a Good Turn, should never forget it : he who 
 does one, should never remember it. 
 
 <&ratttuiie* — Pope. 
 
 YATHEREVER I find a great deal of Gratitude in a poor man, 
 I take it for granted there would be as much Generosity if 
 he were a rich man. 
 
 d^XatitVLtit. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 HPHERE is a certain lively Gratitude which not only acquits us 
 of the Obligations we have received, but, by paying what we 
 owe them, makes our Friends indebted to us. 
 
 t&XatitUtlt.— Shakspeare. 
 
 I have five hundred crowns, 
 The thrifty hire I saved under your Father, 
 Which I did store, to be my foster nurse, 
 When service should in my old limbs lie lame, 
 And unregarded age in corners thrown. 
 Take that : and He that doth the ravens feed, 
 Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 
 Be comfort to my age ! 
 
 ©tatttufce, — Shakspeare. 
 The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, 
 That it had its head bit off by its young. 
 
 (fctatttUO-e, — Shakspeare. 
 T CAN no other answer make, but, Thanks, 
 
 And Thanks, and ever Thanks : Often Good Turns 
 Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay : 
 But, were my worth, as is my conscience, firm, 
 You should find better dealing. 
 
 (SxratttUtie, — Congreve. 
 call not to my mind what you have done! 
 It sets a Debt of that account before me, 
 Which shows me poor and bankrupt even in hopes ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. ISO 
 
 ©ratttUtie. — Queen Christina. 
 TT is a species of agreeable servitude, to be under an Obligation 
 to those we esteem. 
 
 TTERE are the Prude severe, and gay Coquette, 
 
 The sober Widow, and the young green Virgin, 
 Cropp'd like a rose before 'tis fully blown, 
 Or half its worth disclosed. Strange medley here! 
 Here garrulous Old Age winds up his tale; ' 
 And Jovial Youth, of lightsome, vacant heart, 
 Whose every day was made of melody, 
 Hears not the voice of mirth : the shrill-tongued Shrew, 
 Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding. 
 Here are the Wise, the Generous, and the Brave ; 
 The Just, the Good, the Worthless, the Profane, 
 The downright Clown, and perfectly Well-bred; 
 The Fool, the Churl, the Scoundrel, and the Mean. 
 
 Cfje <£rabc — Blair. 
 
 JJERE all the mighty Troublers of the Earth, 
 
 Who swam to sovereign rule through seas of blood ; 
 The oppressive, sturdy, man-destroying Villains, 
 Who ravaged kingdoms, and laid empires waste, 
 And in a cruel wantonness of power 
 Thinn'd states of half their people, and gave up 
 To want the rest; now, like a storm that's spent, 
 Lie hush'd, and meanly sneak behind thy Covert. 
 Vain thought ! to hide them from the general scorn 
 That haunts and dogs them like an injured ghost 
 Implacable. 
 
 ©rabttj). — La Rochefoucauld. 
 ^j-RAVITY is a mystery of the Body, invented to conceal the 
 defects of the Mind. 
 
 <£rabttj). — Saville. 
 'THERE is a false Gravity that is a very ill symptom; and it 
 may be said, that as rivers, which run very slowly, have always 
 the most Mud at the bottom; so a solid Stiffness in the constant 
 course of a man's life, is a sigu of a thick bed of Mud at the bottom 
 of his Brain. 
 
 ©tabttg.— Pliny. 
 A S in a man's life, so in his studies, I think it is the most beauti- 
 ful and humane thing in the world, so to mingle Gravity with 
 Pleasure, that the one may not sink into Melancholy, nor the other 
 rise up into Wantonness. 
 
100 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ©ftabttg, — Young. 
 
 "^y HAT'S the bent brow, or neck in Thought reclined? 
 
 The body's Wisdom to conceal the mind. 
 A man of sense can Artifice disdain; 
 As men of wealth may venture to go plain; 
 And be this Truth eternal ne'er forgot, — 
 Solemnity's a cover for a sot. 
 
 ©rabttj?. — Lord Shaftesbury. 
 Q.RAVITY is of the very essence of Imposture; it does not only 
 make us mistake other things, but is apt perpetually almost to 
 mistake itself. 
 
 <&rabttg. — Lavater. 
 Too much Gravity argues a shallow mind. 
 
 ©rabttg. — Sterne. 
 Y^RICK sometimes in his wild way of talking would say, that 
 Gravity was an arrant Scoundrel, and, he would add, of the 
 most dangerous kind too, because a sly one: and that he verily 
 believed more honest well-meaning people were bubbled out of their 
 goods and money by it in one twelvemonth than b} r pocket-picking 
 and shop-lifting in seven. In the naked temper which a merry 
 heart discovered, he would say, there was no danger but to itself; 
 whereas the very essence of Gravity was Design, and consequently 
 Deceit; it was a taught trick to gain Credit of the world for more 
 sense and knowledge than a man was worth, and that, with all its 
 pretensions, it was no better, but often worse, than what a French 
 wit had long ago defined it, viz. "a mysterious carriage of the Body 
 to cover the defects of the Mind;" which definition of Gravity 
 Yorick, with great imprudence, would say deserved to be wrote in 
 betters of gold. 
 
 G&xmt ffltn. — Cotton. 
 
 ^JJJtEAT Men often obtain their ends by means beyond the Grasp 
 of vulgar intellect, and even by Methods diametrically opposite 
 to those which the multitude would pursue. But, to effect this, 
 bespeaks as profound a knowledge of Mind, as that philosopher 
 evinced of Matter, who first produced ice by the agency of heat. 
 
 G&xtaU jftten. — Cotton. 
 
 T THINK it is Warburton who draws a very just distinction 
 between a man of true Greatness and a Mediocrist. "If," says 
 he, " you want to recommend yourself to the former, take care that 
 lie quits your Society with a good opinion of you; if your object 
 is to please the latter, take care that he leaves you with a good 
 opinion of himself." 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 191 
 
 ©freat £&tn.—Anon. 
 
 "\TOUNTAINS never shake hands. Their roots may touch : they 
 may keep together some way up: but at length they part 
 company, and rise into individual, insulated peaks. So is it with 
 Great Men. As mountains mostly run in chains and clusters, 
 crossing the plain at wider or narrower interval?, in like manner 
 are there epochs in History when Great Men appear in clusters 
 also. At first too they grow up together, seeming to be animated 
 by the same Spirit, to have the same desires and antipathies, the 
 same purposes and ends. But after a while the Genius of each 
 begins to know itself, and to follow its own bent; they separate 
 and diverge more and more : and those who, when young, were 
 working in consort, stand alone in their old age. But if mountains 
 do not shake hands, neither do they kick each other. Their human 
 counterparts unfortunately are more pugnacious. Although they 
 break out of the throng, and strive to soar in solitary Eminence, 
 they cannot bear that their neighbours should do the same, but 
 complain that they impede the View, and often try to overthrow 
 them, especially if they are higher. 
 
 <£reat ifteit.— La Rochefoucauld. 
 be a Great Man one must know how to profit by the whole of 
 one's Fortune. 
 
 (kteat fflzn. — Coiton. 
 
 TN life, we shall find many men that are great, and some men 
 that are good, but very few Men that are both great and good. 
 
 (&teat iHen. — Coiton. 
 
 r FHE reason why Great men Meet with so little pity or attach- 
 ment in Adversity, would seem to be this. The Friends of a 
 Great Man were made by his Fortunes, his Enemies by himself, 
 and Revenge is a much more punctual paymaster than Gratitude. 
 
 <£teat i£len. — Coiton. 
 
 SUBTRACT from a Great Man all that he owes to Opportunity, 
 and all that he owes to Chance, all that he has gained by the 
 wisdom of his friends, and by the folly of his enemies, and our 
 L'robdinag will often become a Lilliputian. I think it is Voltaire 
 who observes, that it was very fortunate for Cromwell that he ap- 
 peared upon the stage at the precise moment when the people were 
 tired of Kings ; and as unfortunate for his son Richard, that he had 
 to make good his pretensions at a moment when the people were 
 equally tired of Protectors. 
 
 (£teat fflm.— Fisher Ames. 
 THE most substantial glory of a country is in its virtuous great 
 men : its prosperity will depend on its docility to learn from 
 
 p. 2 
 
192 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 their example. That nation is fated to ignominy and servitude, for 
 which .such men have lived in vain. Power may be seized by a 
 nation that is yet barbarous ; and wealth may be enjoyed by one 
 that it finds or renders sordid : the one is the gift and sport of acci- 
 dent, and the other is the sport of power. Both are mutable, and 
 have passed away without leaving behind them any other memorial 
 than ruins that offend taste, and traditions that baffle conjecture. 
 But the glory of Greece is imperishable, or will last as long as 
 learning itself, which is its monument : it strikes an everlasting 
 root, and leaves perennial blossoms on its grave. 
 
 (kreatttcss of QWlasfyiwttm. — Sparks. 
 
 TF the title of great man ought to be reserved for him who cannot 
 be charged with an indiscretion or a vice, who spent his life in 
 establishing the independence, the glory, and durable prosperity of 
 his country ; who succeeded in all that he undertook, and whose 
 successes were never won at the expense of honour, justice, in- 
 tegrity, or by the sacrifice of a single principle — this title will not 
 be denied to Washington. 
 
 iSreatneSS. — Seneca. 
 A GREAT, a Good, and a Right Mind is a kind of Divinity 
 lodged in flesh, and may be the blessing of a slave as well as 
 of a prince : it came from Heaven, and to Heaven it must return ; 
 and it is a kind of heavenly felicity, which a pure and virtuous 
 Mind enjoys, in some degree, even upon earth. 
 
 CXteatnegg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 HTHE mightier man, the mightier is the thing 
 
 That makes him honor' d, or begets him Hate : 
 For greatest Scandal waits on greatest state. 
 The Moon being clouded presently is miss'd, 
 But little Stars may hide them when they list. 
 
 The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, 
 And unperceived fly with the filth away ; 
 
 But if the like the snow-white swan desire, 
 The stain upon his silver down will stay. 
 Poor grooms are sightless night, Kings glorious day. 
 Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly, 
 But Eagles gazed upon with every eye. 
 
 <&reattte0S. — La Btuyere. 
 j^J-REATNESS and Discernment are two different things, and a 
 love of Virtue and of Virtuous Men is a third thing 
 
 ^reatnegg* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TTOWEVER brilliant an Action may be, it ought not to pass for 
 great when it is not the result of a great design. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 193 
 
 GreatneSS. — Shakspeare. 
 They that stand high, have many blasts to shake them; 
 And, if they fall, they dash themselves to piece. 
 
 Greatness. — Coiton. 
 
 'THE truly Great consider first, how they may gain the approba- 
 tion of God ; and secondly, that of their own Conscience ; 
 having done this, they would then willingly conciliate the good 
 Opinion of their fellow-men. 
 
 Greatness. — Coiton. 
 
 HPHE Wealthy and the Noble, when they expend large sums in 
 decorating their houses with the rare and costly efforts of Ge- 
 nius, with busts from the chisel of a Canova, and with cartoons 
 from the pencil of a Raphael, are to be commended, if they do not 
 stand still here, but go on to bestow some pains and cost, that the 
 Master himself be not inferior to the Mansion, and that the Owner 
 be not the only thing that is little, amidst every thing else that is 
 great. 
 
 <SfreatneiS!S. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 (^j-REAT Souls are not those which have less Passion and more 
 Virtue than common souls, but only those which have greater 
 Designs. 
 
 Greatness.— Coiton. 
 
 A GREAT Mind may change its objects, but it cannot relinquish 
 them; it must have something to pursue; Variety is its re- 
 laxation, and Amusement its repose. 
 
 GreatneSS. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 r THE Hero passes through the multitude, as a man that neither 
 disdains a People, nor yet is any thing tickled with their Vanity. 
 
 GreatneSS. — Shakspeare. 
 C\ PLACE and Greatness, millions of false eyes 
 
 Are stuck upon thee ! volumes of report 
 Run with these false and most contrarious quests 
 Upon thy doings ! thousand ; scapes of wit 
 Make thee the father of their idle dream, 
 And rack thee in their fancies. 
 
 Greatness. — Prow the Latin. 
 THAT which is great or splendid is not always laudable, but what 
 ever is laudable must be great. 
 
 (Steatites. — Shakspeare. 
 /^J-REAT men may jest with Saints : 'tis wit in them; 
 
 But, in the less, foul profanation. 
 That in the Captain's but a choleric word, 
 Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. 
 
194 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (feXZaiXltm From the Latin. 
 
 Never less alone than when alone. 
 
 (£teatne00. — Shakspeare. 
 These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; 
 And all the Courses of my life do show 
 I am not in the roll of common men. 
 
 ^reatneSS. — La Bruyere. 
 A GREAT Mind is above doing an unjust act, above giving wav 
 to Grief, above descending to Buffoonery ; and it would be in- 
 vulnerable, if Compassion did not prey upon its sensibility. 
 ^reatlteiSS. — Shakspeare. 
 T^HY, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, 
 
 Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 
 Walk under his huge legs, and peep about 
 To find ourselves dishonourable Graves. 
 
 <&XeatM88. — Anon. 
 The greatest Truths are the simplest : so are the greatest Men. 
 <&reatneg£u — Shakspeare. 
 T HAVE touch'd the highest point of all my Greatness; 
 
 And from that fall Meridian of my glory, 
 I haste now to my setting : I shall fall 
 Like a bright exhalation in the Evening, 
 And no man see me more. 
 
 <&reatltei30* — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 'THE Great, in affliction, bear a countenance more Princely than 
 they are wont ; for it is the temper of the highest Hearts, like 
 the Palm-tree, to strive most upward when it is most burdened. 
 
 <&Xtatrtt$8. — Shakspeare. 
 Though Fortune's malice overthrow my State, 
 My Mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. 
 
 Greatness. — Cicero. 
 
 There never was a Great Man, unless through Divine Inspiration. 
 
 <£teattte£0. — Shakspeare. 
 
 His Greatness was no guard 
 To bar Heaven's shaft, but Sin had his reward. 
 
 <£teattte0#. — Hail. 
 
 pARTHLY Greatness is a nice thing, and requires so much 
 chariness in the managing, as the Contentment of it cannot 
 requite. 
 
 <&teatne#0. — Young. 
 IF we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things 
 that they possess, there would not be much Envy in the world. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 195 
 
 <&XeatM8B. — Skakspeare. 
 
 Rightly to bo great, 
 Is, not to stir without great Argument j 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 
 When Honour's at the stake. 
 
 <&teatttCS£. -— Skakspeare. 
 Place ! Form ! 
 How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
 Wrench awe from Fools, and tie the wiser souls 
 To thy false seeming. 
 
 ^reatneSS. — Laoater. 
 TTE only is Great who has the Habits of Greatness ; who, after 
 performing what none in ten thousand could accomplish, passes 
 on like Samson, and " tells neither father nor mother of it." 
 
 <&reatTU0£L — Skakspeare. 
 
 Oh, be sick, great Greatness 
 And bid thy Ceremony give thee cure ! 
 Think'st thou, the fiery fever will go out 
 With titles blown from Adulation ? 
 Will it give place to flexure and low bending ? 
 Can'st thou, when thou command'st the Beggar's knee, 
 Command the Health of it ? 
 
 (Bfreatltegg. — Skakspeare. 
 f}H, hard condition ! and twin-born with Greatness, 
 
 Subjected to the breath of every fool, 
 Whose Sense no more can feel but his own wringing ! 
 What infinite heart's ease must Kings neglect 
 That private men enjoy ! and what have Kings 
 That privates have not too, save Ceremony ? 
 
 (fctCatttegS. — Skakspeare. 
 Oh, it is excellent 
 To have a Giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 
 To use it like a Giant. 
 
 iExteatnClSS. — Home. 
 The truly Generous is the truly wise; 
 And he who loves not others, lives unblest. 
 
 (KSrteatneSg. — Thomson. 
 The generous pride of Virtue 
 Disdains to weigh too nicely the returns 
 Her Bounty meets with. Like the liberal Gods, 
 From her own gracious nature she bestows, 
 Nor stoops to ask reward 
 
196 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&XtatnC88. — Seneca. 
 THERE is as much Greatness of Mind in the owning of a good 
 turn as in the doing of it ; and we must no more force a Re- 
 quital out of season, than be wanting in it. 
 
 d^Xtditmm. — Byron. 
 
 Unequal fortune 
 Made him my debtor for some courtesies, 
 Which bind the good more firmly. 
 
 <&reatne0J3. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 THERE is a kind of Elevation which does not depend on fortuue. 
 It is a certain air which distinguishes us, and seems to destine 
 us for great things; it is a Price which we imperceptibly set on 
 ourselves. By this quality we usurp the Deference of other men ; 
 and it puts us, in general, more above them than Birth, Dignity, 
 or even Merit itself. 
 
 <&reattte00 Skakspeare. 
 
 TJE great in act, as you have been in thought; 
 Be stirring as the time ; be Fire with fire ; 
 Threaten the Threat'ner, and outface the brow 
 Of bragging Horror: so shall inferior eyes, 
 That borrow their behaviours from the great, 
 Grow great by your Example, and put on 
 The dauntless spirit of Resolution. 
 
 Q&Xt&tnt88.— Addison. 
 True Fortitude is seen in great exploits 
 That Justice warrants, and that Wisdom guides : 
 All else is tow'ring Phrensy and Distraction. 
 
 <£teatneSJ3. — Thomson. 
 T>UT to the generous still improving Mind, 
 
 That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy, 
 Diffusing kind Beneficence around, 
 Boastless, as now descends the silent dew; 
 To him the long review of order'd life 
 Is inward rapture, only to be felt. 
 
 ^reatneSS. — Shakspearc. 
 
 I love the People, 
 But do not like to stage me to their eyes : 
 Though it do well, I do not relish well 
 Their loud Applause, and aves vehement : 
 Nor do I think the man of safe Discretion, 
 That does affect it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 197 
 
 ©reatneSS. — Shakspeare. 
 Some are born Great, some achieve Greatness, 
 And some have Greatness thrust upon them. 
 
 ©reatlteSS. — Shakspeare. 
 Let me not live, 
 After my Flame lacks oil, to be the snuff 
 Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses 
 All but new things disdain; whose Judgments are 
 Mere fathers of their Garments; whose constancies 
 Expire before their Fashions. 
 
 <£reatnC00. — Shakspeare. 
 'TIS certain, Greatness, once fallen out with Fortune, 
 Must fall out with men too: what the declined is, 
 He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, 
 As feel in his own fall ; for men, like Butterflies, 
 Show not their mealy wings but to the Summer. 
 
 <&reatJU0j3. — Young. 
 'Tis great, 'tis manly, to disdain disguise ; 
 It shows our Spirit, or it proves our strength. 
 
 <£ teattteSS. — Shakspeare. 
 I have ventured, 
 Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 
 This many summers in a sea of Glory ; 
 But far beyond my depth : my high-blown Pride 
 At length broke under me ; and now has left me, 
 Weary, and old with service, to the mercy 
 Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
 Vain Pomp, and Glory of this world, I hate ye : 
 I feel my heart new open'd. 
 I know myself now ; and I feel within me 
 A Peace above all earthly dignities, 
 A still and quiet Conscience. 
 
 Greatness. — Pope. 
 
 TN parts superior what advantage lies ? 
 
 Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise ? 
 'Tis but to know how little can be known; 
 To see all others' faults, and feel our own : 
 Condemn'd in Business or in arts to drudge, 
 Without a second, or without a Judge : 
 Truths would you teach, or save a sinking Land ? 
 All fear, none aid you, and few understand. 
 Painful Pre-eminence ! yourself to view 
 Above life'v weakness, and its comforts too. 
 
198 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&Xtatnz$S. — Roive. 
 Great Minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing Good, 
 Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours 
 Are barren in return. 
 
 <&reatne0!3. — Young. 
 High Stations tumult, but not bliss, create : 
 None think the Great unhappy, but the Great. 
 
 <&XW\Wm. — Pope. 
 TURING then these Blessings to a strict account ; 
 
 Make fair deductions j see to what they 'mount 
 How much of other each is sure to cost; 
 How much for other oft is wholly lost; 
 How inconsistent greater goods with these ; 
 How sometimes Life is risk'd, and always Ease; 
 Think, and if still the things thy envy call, 
 Say, would'st thou be the man to whom they fall? 
 To sigh for ribbons, if thou art silly, 
 Mark how they grace Lord Umbra, or Sir Billy. 
 Is yellow dirt the passion of thy life ? 
 Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife. 
 If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shined, 
 The wisest, brightest, meanest of Mankind. 
 
 <£teatneS!S. — Byron. 
 
 From my youth upward 
 My Spirit walk'd not with the Souls of men, 
 Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes ; 
 The thirst of their Ambition was not mine, 
 The aim of their Existence was not mine ; 
 My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, 
 Made me a Stranger. 
 
 Q&XZ&tWm. — Thomson. 
 
 'Tis hardship, toil; 
 'Tis sleepless nights, and never-resting days ; 
 'Tis pain, 'tis danger, 'tis affronted Death ; 
 'Tis equal fate for all, and changing Fortune ; 
 That rear the mind to Glory, that inspire 
 The noblest Virtues, and the gentlest Manners. 
 
 (& t£atTte££L — Joanna Baillie. 
 ~tTE died that Death which best becomes a man, 
 
 Who is with keenest sense of conscious ill 
 And deep Remorse assail'd, a wounded Spirit. 
 A death that kills the Noble and the Brave, 
 And only them. He had no other wound. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 199 
 
 l&reatnCSS. — Thomson. 
 
 Real Glory 
 Springs from the silent conquest of ourselves ; 
 And without that the Conqueror is naught 
 But the first slave. 
 
 (fexitf ♦ — Shakspeare. 
 'THE violence of either Grief or Joy 
 
 Their own enactures with themselves destroy : 
 Where Joy most revels, Grief doth most lament; 
 Grief joys, Joy grieves, on slender accident. 
 
 <£rief . — Greville. 
 "YyHAT an argument in favour of social connections is the obser- 
 vation that by communicating our Grief we have less, and by 
 communicating our Pleasure we have more. 
 
 (Kfttcf . — Shakspeare. 
 Give me no help in Lamentation, 
 I am not barren to bring forth laments : 
 All springs reduce their currents to mine Eyes, 
 That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, 
 May send forth plenteous Tears to drown the world ! 
 
 (&Utt— Dryden. 
 TV/TINE is a Grief of fury, not Despair ! 
 
 And if a manly drop or two fall down, 
 It scalds along my cheeks, like the green wood, 
 That sputtering in the flames, works outward into Tears. 
 
 (&XitL — Shakspeare. 
 
 Grief softens the Mind, 
 And makes it fearful and degenerate. 
 
 (G*n£ i . — Metastasio. 
 JF the internal Griefs of every man could be read, written on his 
 forehead, how many who now excite Envy, would appear to be 
 objects of Pity ? 
 
 <£rtef . — Sliakspeare. 
 
 Weep I cannot, 
 But my heart bleeds. 
 
 Q&XXti . — Shakspeare. 
 r)H how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow ! 
 Her eyes seen in the Tears, tears in her eye; 
 Both crystals, where they view'd each other's Sorrow J 
 
 Sorrow, that friendly Sighs sought still to dry; 
 But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, 
 Sighs dry her cheeks, Tears make them wet again. 
 
200 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 
 (Exrief. — Joanna Baillie. 
 I'll do whate'er thou wilt, I will be silent; 
 But oh ! a reined Tongue, and bursting Heart, 
 Are hard at once to bear. 
 
 (krtef . — Shakspeare. 
 (~)H, what a noble Combat hast thou fought, 
 Between compulsion and a brave respect ! 
 Let me wipe off this honourable Dew, 
 That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. 
 My Heart hath melted at a lady's tears, 
 Being an ordinary inundation : 
 But this effusion of such manly drops, 
 This shower, blown up by Tempest of the Soul, 
 Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed, 
 Than had I seen the vaulty top of Heaven 
 Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. 
 Lift up thy brow, 
 
 And with a great heart heave away this storm. 
 Commend these waters to those baby-eyes, 
 That never saw the giant World enraged ; 
 Nor met with Fortune, other than at feasts, 
 Full-warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. 
 
 <£riet — Thomson. 
 Sweet Source of every virtue, 
 
 Sacred Sorrow ! he who knows not thee, 
 Knows not the best emotions of the Heart, 
 Those tender Tears that humanize the Soul, 
 
 The Sigh that charms, the Pang that gives delight. 
 
 (JBrttff . — Joanna Baillie. 
 T FELT a sudden tightness grasp my throat 
 As it would strangle me : such as I felt, 
 
 1 knew it well, some twenty years ago, 
 
 When my good father shed his Blessing on me : 
 I hate to weep, and so I came away. 
 
 ffittef* — Shakspeare. 
 She shook 
 The holy water from her heavenly eyes, 
 And clamour moisten'd : then away she started 
 To deal with Grief alone. 
 
 <&ttef.— Shakspeare. 
 Oh ! Grief hath changed me, since you saw me last 
 And careful hours with Time's deformed hand 
 Have written strange defeatures in my Face. 
 
 ■J 
 
W H] 
 
 OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 201 
 
 (CU'tef. — Shalcspeare. 
 Why tell you me of moderation ; 
 The Grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, 
 And violenteth in a sense as strong 
 As that which causeth it: How can I moderate it? 
 If I could temporize with my Affection, 
 Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 
 The like allayment could I give my Grief; 
 My Love admits no qualifying dross : 
 No more my Grief, in such a precious loss. 
 
 (&ttef . — Shalcspeare. 
 EN the Sun sets, the air doth drizzle Dew. 
 What, still in tears ? 
 Evermore showering? In one little body 
 Thou counterfeit'st a Bark, a Sea, a Wind : 
 For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea, 
 Do ebb and flow with Tears; the Bark thy body is, 
 Sailing in this salt Flood ; the Winds, thy Sighs; 
 Who, — raging with thy Tears, and they with them, — 
 Without a sudden Calm, will overset 
 Thy tempest-toss'd body. 
 
 Grtef.— Byron. 
 "VET disappointed joys are Woes as deep 
 As any man's clay mixture undergoes. 
 Our least of Sorrows are such as we weep ; 
 'Tis the vile daily drop on drop that wears 
 The Soul out (like the stone) with petty Cares. 
 
 ©ftief. — Byr&n. 
 
 TTPON her face there was the tint of Grief, 
 The settled Shadow of nn inward Strife, 
 And an unquiet drooping of the Eye, 
 As if its lid were charged with unshed tears. 
 
 D 
 
 (£* ncf. — Shalcspeare. 
 I" AM not prone to Weeping, as our sex 
 
 Commonly are; the want of which vain dew, 
 Perchance, shall dry your Pities; but I have 
 That honourable Grief lodged here, which burns 
 Worse than Tears drown. 
 
 iDttCf. — Young. 
 Who fails to grieve, when just occasion calls, 
 Or grieves too much, deserves not to be blest : 
 Inhuman, or effeminate, his Heart. 
 
!02 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (S5rtt'0f. — Spenser. 
 T ONG thus he chew'd the cud of inward Griefe, 
 
 And did consume his Gall with Anguish sore; 
 Still when he mused on his late mischiefe, 
 Then still the smart thereof increased more, 
 And seem'd more grievous than it was before. 
 
 &Utt — Spenser. 
 THUS is my Summer worn away and wasted, 
 Thus is my Harvest hasten'd all to rathe ; 
 The ear that budded fair is burnt and blasted ; 
 
 And all my hoped gain is turn'd to scathe. 
 Of all the seed that in my youth was sown, 
 Was none but Brakes and Brambles to be mown. 
 
 (Exttef ♦ — Shakspeare. 
 f^J-RIEF fills the room up of my absent Child ; 
 
 Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; 
 Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
 Remembers me of all his gracious parts; 
 Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form : 
 Then have I reason to be fond of Grief. 
 
 <&riei — Spenser. 
 
 'TO'HICH when she heard, as in despightfull wise 
 She wilfully her sorrow did augment, 
 
 And offer' d hope of comfort did despise : 
 Her golden lockes most cruelly she rent, 
 And scratcht her face with ghastly Dreriment; 
 
 Ne would she speake, ne see, ne yet be seene, 
 But hid her Visage, and her Head downe bent, 
 
 Either for grievous Shame, or for great Teene, 
 
 As if her Heart with Sorrow had transfixed beene. 
 
 ffitttet— Byron. 
 
 THROUGH many a clime 'tis mine to go, 
 
 With many a retrospection curst, 
 And all my Solace is to know, 
 
 Whate'er betides, I've known the worst. 
 What is that worst ? Nay, do not ask, 
 
 In pity from the search forbear : 
 Smile on — nor venture to unmask 
 
 Man's heart, and view the Hell that's there. 
 
 (flxXitf . — Shakspeare. 
 Every one can master a Grief, but he that has it. 
 
 ©fttef* — Shakspeare. 
 
 Honest plain words best pierce the ear of Grief. 
 
On, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 203 
 
 <&CtCf. — Spenser. 
 T^THAT equall torment to the G-riefe of Mind, 
 And pyning Anguish hid in gentle hart, 
 That inly feeds itself e with thoughts unkind, 
 And nourisheth her owne consuming Smart ? 
 What medicine can any leach's art 
 
 Yeeld such a sore, that doth her Grievance hide, 
 And will to none her Maladie impart ? 
 
 ©ftttf.— Spenser. 
 
 "YT/'HICH whenas Seudamour did heare, his heart 
 
 Was thril'd with inward Griefe, as when in chace 
 The Parthian strikes a stag with shivering dart, 
 The beast astonisht stands in middest of his Smart. 
 
 (kriet — Shakspeare. 
 I PRAY thee, cease thy counsel, 
 Which falls into mine ears as profitless 
 As water in a sieve : give not me counsel ; 
 Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, 
 But such a one, whose wrongs do suit with mine. 
 Bring me a Father, that so loved his Child, 
 Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine, 
 And bid him speak of Patience j 
 Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, 
 And let it answer every strain for strain ; 
 As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, 
 In every lineament, branch, shape, and form : 
 If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard ; 
 Cry — Sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should groan; 
 Patch Grief with proverbs ; make Misfortune drunk 
 With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, 
 And I of him will gather Patience. 
 But there is no such man. 
 
 Q&Xitf . — Shakspeare. 
 
 Ah, my tender Babes ! 
 My unblown flowers, new-appearing sweets ! 
 If yet your gentle Souls fly in the air — 
 Hover about me with your airy wings, 
 And hear your mother's Lamentation. 
 
 ^LAS 
 
 ©fttef.— Drydm. 
 
 ! I have not words to tell my Grief; 
 To vent my Sorrow would be some relief; 
 Light Sufferings give us leisure to complain j 
 We groan, we cannot speak, in greater Pain. 
 
!04 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Bxitt—Shakspeare. 
 TPHE shadow of my Sorrow? Ha! let's see : — 
 
 'Tis very true, my Grief lies all within ; 
 And these external manners of Lament 
 Are merely shadows to the unseen Grief, 
 That swells with silence in the tortured Soul; 
 There lies the Substance. 
 
 <&ttei — Moore. 
 HPHE world had just begun to steal, 
 
 Each hope, that led me lightly on; 
 I felt not as I used to feel, 
 
 And life grew dark, and Love was gone ! 
 No eye to mingle Sorrow's tear, 
 
 No lip to mingle Pleasure's breath, 
 No tongue to call me kind and dear — 
 'Twas gloomy, and I wish'd for Death ! 
 
 G&Xitf . — ShaJcspeare. 
 £)H that this too too solid Flesh would melt, 
 
 Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew ! 
 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
 His Canon 'gainst Self-slaughter ! God ! God! 
 How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable 
 Seem to me all the uses of this world ! 
 Fie on't ! fie ! 'tis an unweeded Garden, 
 That grows to Seed ; things rank, and gross in nature, 
 Possess it merely. 
 
 <£wf ♦ — Campbell. 
 
 I alone am left on earth ! 
 To whom nor Relative nor Blood remains ; 
 No ! — not a kindred drop that runs in human veins. 
 
 (&Xitf Shakspeare. 
 
 The robb'd that smiles, steals something from the thief; 
 He robs himself, that spends a bootless Grief. 
 
 <85J ttef . — Byron, 
 T^THAT is the worst of woes that wait on Age ? 
 
 What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow ? 
 To view each loved one blotted from life's page, 
 And be alone on Earth, as I am now. 
 
 <&Wt— Moore. 
 A LAS ! the Breast that inly bleeds 
 
 Hath nought to dread from outward blow : 
 Who falls from all he knows of Bliss 
 Cares little into what abyss. 
 
s° 
 
 OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 20; 
 
 ©rtef.— Skakspeare. 
 To mourn a Mischief that is past and gone, 
 Is the next way to draw new Mischief on. 
 
 ©fntf. — Skakspeare. 
 
 "PACH substance of a Grief hath twenty shadows, 
 
 Which show like Grief itself, but are not so : 
 For Sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding Tears, 
 Divides one thing entire, to many objects. 
 
 <&rief . — Spenser. 
 all the world, and all in it I hate, 
 Because it changeth ever to and fro, 
 And never standeth in one certain state, 
 
 But still unsteadfas^ round about doth go 
 Like a mill-wheel, in midst of Misery, 
 
 Driven with streams of wretchedness and woe, 
 That dying lives, and living still does die. 
 
 <£rief . — Skakspeare. 
 Some Grief shows much of Love ; 
 But much of Grief shows still some want of Wit. 
 
 <&Wf. — Byron. 
 'THE wither'd frame, the ruin'd mind, 
 
 The wrack by passion left behind, 
 A shrivell'd scroll, a scatter' d leaf, 
 Sear'd by the autumn-blast of Grief ! 
 
 t&Xitf . — Dryden. 
 He withers at his Heart, and looks as wan 
 As the pale spectre of a murder'd man. 
 
 <&rief. — Skakspeare. 
 TTAD he the motive and the cue for Passion, 
 
 That I have, he would drown the stage with Tears 
 And cleave the general ear with horrid speech ; 
 Make mad the Guilty, and appal the Free, 
 Confound the ignorant; and amaze, indeed, 
 The very faculties of eyes and ears. 
 
 <&rief. — Skakspeare. 
 He raised a Sigh so piteous and profound, 
 As it did seem to shatter all his bulk, 
 And end his being. 
 
 <&rtet — Skakspeare. 
 What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; 
 Give Sorrow words : the Grief, that does not speak, 
 Whispers the o'er-fraught Heart, and bids it break. 
 
206 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (&rtef , — Spenser. 
 1V"EXT him went Griefe and Fury, matcht yfere ; 
 
 Griefe all in sable sorrowfully clad, 
 Downe hanging his dull head with heavy chere, 
 
 Yet inly being more than seeming sad ; 
 
 A paire of pincers in his hand he had, 
 "With which he pinched many people to the Hart, 
 
 That from thenceforth a wretched life they ladd 
 In wilfull languor and consuming smart, 
 Dying each day with inward wounds of Dolour's dart. 
 
 (Ex UCf . — Shakspeare. 
 "VTOST subject is the fattest soil to weeds ; 
 And he, the noble Image of my youth, 
 Is overspread with them : therefore my Grief 
 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death. 
 
 (fixttrf . — Joanna Baillie. 
 Like a pent-up flood, swoln to the height, 
 He pour'd his Griefs into my breast with Tears, 
 Such as the manliest men in their cross'd lives 
 Are sometimes forced to shed. 
 
 <&titf . — Shakspeare. 
 My Grief lies all within, 
 And these external manners of laments 
 Are merely shadows to the unseen Grief, 
 That swells with silence in the tortured Sou 
 
 <&tkf. — Spenser. 
 T^ITH that adowne, out of her christall eyne, 
 Few trickling Teares she softly forth let fall, 
 That like two orient perles did purely shyne 
 Upon her snowy Cheeke ; and therewithall 
 She sighed soft, that none so bestiall 
 Nor salvage hart, but ruth of her sad plight 
 Would make to melt, or pitteously appall. 
 
 (GxHCf . — Shakspeare. 
 (~)H, break, my Heart ! — poor bankrupt, break at once ! 
 
 To prison, eyes ! ne'er look on liberty ! 
 Vile earth, to earth resign ; end motion here ; 
 And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy Bier. 
 
 d^rtef . — Shakspeare. 
 No, I'll not weep : — 
 I have full cause of weeping; but this Heart 
 Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 
 Ere I'll weep : — Fool, I shall go mad ! 
 
OR, TEIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 207 
 
 Xriff, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T'HERE are divers sorts of hypocrisy in Grief. In one, under 
 pretext of lamenting the loss of a person who is dear to us, we 
 lament ourselves, we lament the diminution of our Advantages, of 
 our Pleasures, of our Consideration. We regret the good opinion 
 that was entertained of us. Thus the Dead get the credit of tears 
 which are only shed for the Living. I call this a species of hy- 
 pocrisy, because in this sort of Grief we deceive ourselves. There 
 is yet another species of Tears which have very petty sources, which 
 flow easily, and as easily are dried : we weep to acquire the reputa- 
 tion of a tender Heart; we weep to be pitied \ we weep to be wept 
 over: in fine, we weep to avoid the shame of not weeping. 
 
 CrTtef. — Martial. 
 
 She grieves sincerely who grieves when alone. 
 
 tfcrief.— ■ Shakspcare. 
 Like the Lily, 
 That once was mistress of the field, and flourished, 
 I'll hang my Head, and perish. 
 
 i&XlCi.— Pliny. 
 TTOWEVER, I by no means wish to become less susceptible of 
 Tenderness. I know these kind of misfortunes would be esti- 
 mated by other persons only as common losses, and from such Sen- 
 sations they would conceive themselves great and wise men. I 
 shall not determine cither their Greatness or their "Wisdom ; but I 
 am certain they have no Humanity. It is the part of a man to be 
 affected with Grief, to feel Sorrow, at the same time that he is to 
 resist it, and to admit of Comfort. 
 
 i£ fief. — Shakspcare. 
 
 Ah, cut my lace asunder ! 
 That my pent Heart may have some scope to beat, 
 Or else I swoon with this dead-killing news. 
 
 (£ Xiti . — Shakspcare. 
 Spirits of Peace, where are ye ? Are ye all gone? 
 And leave me here in Wretchedness behind ye ? 
 
 ifyutf. — Shakspeare. 
 TIT HEN remedies are past, the Griefs are ended, 
 
 By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. 
 To mourn a Mischief that is past and gone, 
 Is the next way to draw new Mischief on. 
 What cannot be preserved when Fortune takes, 
 Patience her injury a mockery makes. 
 The robb'd. that smile?, steals something from the Thief; 
 He robs himself, that spends a bootless Grief. 
 
208 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <&Xitf. — Byron. 
 
 Hide thy Tears — 
 I do not bid thee not to shed them — 'twere 
 Easier to stop Euphrates at its source 
 Than one tear of a true and tender Heart — 
 But let me not behold them ; they unman me. 
 
 <£ttef . — Shakspeare. 
 ''TIS double Death to drown in ken of shore: 
 
 He ten times pines, that pines beholding food : 
 To see the salve, doth make the Wound ache more ; 
 Great Grief grieves most at that would do it good : 
 Deep Woes roll forward like a gentle flood, 
 Who, being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'erflows; 
 Grief dallied with, nor law nor limits knows. 
 
 ffiWf.— Shakspeare. 
 
 Men 
 Can counsel, and speak comfort to that Grief, 
 Which they themselves not feel ; but tasting it, 
 Their counsel turns to Passion, which before 
 Would give preceptial medicine to Rage, 
 Fetter strong Madness in a silken thread, 
 Charm Ache with air, and Agony with words : 
 No, no: 'tis all men's office to speak Patience 
 To those that wriug under the load of Sorrow ; 
 But no man's virtue, nor Sufficiency, 
 To be so moral, when he shall endure 
 The like himself. 
 
 ©robellers. — Petsius. 
 
 Souls, in whom no heavenly Fire is found, 
 Fat Minds, and ever grovelling on the ground ! 
 
 (£rumt)lmg. — Graves. 
 "PVERY one must see daily instances of people who complain from 
 a mere Habit of Complaining. 
 
 <£rumi)lmg. — Greviiu. 
 
 HTHERE is an unfortunate disposition in a man to attend much 
 more to the Faults of his companions which offend him, than 
 to their Perfections which please him. 
 
 ©rtttlt. — Milton. 
 
 Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat 
 Sighing through all her works gave signs of Wo. 
 
 Jgafett*— Cotton. 
 
 TT is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn his Errors as his 
 Knowledge. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 209 
 
 J9af)tt — Seneca. 
 TO things which you bear with Impatience you should accustom 
 yourself, and, by Habit, you will bear them well. 
 
 Jl}al) it.— Tucker. 
 THERE are Habits contracted by bad example, or bad manage- 
 ment, before we have Judgment to discern their approaches, or 
 because the eye of Reason is laid asleep, or has not compass of view 
 sufficient to look around on every quarter. 
 
 J£}at) it.— Shakspeare. 
 T^EEP a Gamester from the dice, and a good Student from his 
 book, and it is wonderful. 
 
 IQabit, — Horace. 
 A NEW Cask will long preserve the Tincture of the liquor with 
 which it is first impregnated. 
 
 J^abtt Shakspeare. 
 
 'THAT monster, Custom, who all sense doth eat 
 
 Of Habit's devil, is angel yet in this; 
 That to the use of Actions fair and good 
 He likewise gives a frock, or livery, 
 That aptly is put on ; Refrain to-night : 
 And that shall lend a kind of easiness 
 To the next Abstinence : the next more easy : 
 For Use almost can change the stamp of nature, 
 And either curb the Devil, or throw him out 
 With wondrous potency. 
 
 3Bappmej88. — From the French. 
 THE Happiness of the human race in this world does not consist 
 in our being devoid of Passions, but in our learning to command 
 them. 
 
 J^appmeSS. — Addison. 
 TRUE Happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp 
 and noise; it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of 
 one's self: and in the next, from the Friendship and Conversation 
 of a few select Companions : false Happiness loves to be in a crowd, 
 and to draw the eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive 
 any Satisfaction from the applauses which she gives herself, but 
 from the admiration which she raises in others. 
 
 Jgapptne&S. — Shakspeare. 
 THEY are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve 
 with nothing : It is no mean Happiness, therefore, to be 
 seated in the mean : Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but 
 Competency lives longer 
 
•210 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 JtJapphteSS. — Goldsmith. 
 TT'VERY mind seems capable of entertaining a certain quantity 
 of Happiness, which no institutions can increase, no circum- 
 stances alter, and entirely independent on Fortune. Let any man 
 compare his present Fortune with the past, and he will probably 
 find himself, upon the whole, neither better nor worse than for- 
 merly. 
 
 ffltiippiMm* — Stede. 
 
 TNDOLENCE of body and mind, when we aim at no more, is 
 very frequently enjoyed ; but the very inquiry after Happiness 
 has something restless in it, which a man who lives in a series of 
 temperate meals, friendly conversations, and easy slumbers, gives 
 himself no trouble about it. While men of Refinement are talking 
 of Tranquillity, he possesses it. 
 
 Jgappme**. — Thomson. 
 
 "PVEN not all these, in one rich lot combined, 
 
 Can make the happy man, without the mind; 
 Where Judgment sits clear-sighted, and surveys 
 The Chain of Reason with unerring gaze ; 
 W 7 here Fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes, 
 His fairer scenes, and bolder figures rise ; 
 Where social Love exerts her soft command, 
 And plays the Passions with a tender hand, 
 Whence every Virtue flows, in rival strife, 
 And all the moral Harmony of life. 
 
 J^appmeSS. — Shakspeare. 
 The bitter past, more welcome is the Sweet. 
 
 Jgapp in ess,— Pope. 
 
 CARDER is heaven's first law; and this confest, 
 Some are, and must be, greater than the rest, 
 More rich, more wise; but who infers from hence 
 That such are happier, shocks all common sense. 
 Heaven to mankind impartial we confess, 
 If all are equal in their Happiness : 
 But mutual wants this Happiness increase 
 All Nature's difference keeps all Nature's peace. 
 Condition, circumstance, is not the thing; 
 Bliss is the same in subject or in King, 
 In who obtain defence, or who defend, 
 In him who is, or him who finds a friend : 
 Heaven breathes through every member of the whole. 
 One common blessing, as one common Soul. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 211 
 
 ffiapptttCSS.— La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT is a kind of Happiness to know to what extent we may be 
 unhappy. 
 
 JgappmCSS.— Mrs. Tiglic. 
 
 OH happy you ! who, blest with present Bliss, 
 See not with fatal prescience future tears, 
 
 Nor the dear moment of Enjoyment miss 
 Through gloomy Discontent, or sullen Fears 
 Foreboding many a storm for coming years ; 
 
 Change is the lot of all. Ourselves with scorn 
 Perhaps shall view what now so fair appears ; 
 
 And wonder whence the fancied Charm was born, 
 
 Which now with vain Despair from our fond grasp is torn ! 
 
 Jftapp meSS. — Shakspeare. 
 TTIS overthrow heap'd Happiness upon him ; 
 
 For then, and not till then, he felt himself, 
 And found the Blessedness of being little : 
 And, to add greater Honours to his age 
 Than man could give him, he died, fearing God. 
 
 &aMint$B. — Greoitte. 
 
 TTABDLY a man, whatever his circumstances and situation, but 
 if you get his Confidence, will tell you that he is not happy. 
 It is however certain all men are not unhappy in the same degree, 
 though by these accounts we might almost be tempted to think so. 
 Is not this to be accounted for, by supposing that all men measure 
 the Happiness they possess by the Happiness they desire, or think 
 they deserve. 
 
 Ji)appmCSS. — Horace. 
 "\yHAT you demand is here, or at Ulubrae." You traverse the 
 world in search of Happiness, which is within the reach of 
 every man ; a contented Mind confers it on all. 
 
 ?i)appme£S. — Shakspeare. 
 TyHAT ! we have many goodly days to see : 
 
 The liquid drops of Tears that you have shed, 
 Shall come again, transform'd to orient Pearl; 
 Advantaging their loan, with interest 
 Often-times-double gain of Happiness. 
 
 ?t)appmC00. — Colton. 
 TTAPPINESS is that single and glorious thing, which is the 
 very Light and Sun of the whole animated universe, and 
 where she is not, it were better that nothing should be. Without 
 hei, Wisdom is but a shadow, and Virtue a name; she is their 
 sovereign mistress. 
 
212 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Jgappme**.— Pope. 
 
 HH, Happiness ! our being's end and aim ; 
 
 Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content, — whate'er thy name : 
 That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh, 
 For which we bear to live, or dare to die, 
 Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, 
 O'erlook'd, seen double, by the Fool and Wise : 
 Plant of celestial seed ! if dropp'd below, 
 Say in what mortal Soil thou deign' st to grow? 
 
 ?6apphtC!S!3. — Mrs. TigJie. 
 
 ~U"AIN schemer, think not to prolong thy Joy ! 
 But cherish while it lasts the heavenly boon ! 
 
 Expand thy sails ! thy little bark shall fly 
 
 With the full tide of Pleasure ! though it soon 
 May feel the influence of the changeful Moon, 
 
 It yet is thine ! then let not doubts obscure 
 With cloudy vapours vail thy brilliant Noon, 
 
 Nor let Suspicion's tainted breath impure 
 
 Poison the favouring gale which speeds thy course secure ! 
 
 Jgappme00* — Coiton. 
 
 TN the constitution both of our mind and of our body, every thing 
 must go on right, and harmonize well together to make us 
 happy : but should one thing go wrong, that is quite enough to 
 make us miserable ; and, although the Joys of this world are vain 
 and short, yet its Sorrows are real and lasting; for I will show 
 you a ton of perfect Pain with greater ease than one ounce of 
 perfect Pleasure ; and he knows little of himself, or of the world, 
 who does not think it sufficient Happiness to be free from Sorrow; 
 therefore, give a wise man Health, and he will give himself every 
 other thing. 
 
 JgappmeiSS, — Cowper. 
 T^HE heart is hard in nature, and unfit 
 For human fellowship, as being void 
 Of Sympathy, and therefore dead alike 
 To Love and Friendship both, that is not pleased 
 With sight of animals enjoying life, 
 Nor feels their Happiness augment his own. 
 
 i^appmcss, — Coiton. 
 
 TTAPPINESS is much more equally divided than some of us 
 imagine. One man shall possess most of the Materials, but 
 little of the Thing; another may possess much of the Thing, but 
 very few of the Materials. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 213 
 
 J^apptnCSS. — Shakspeare. 
 T EARN that I eat, get that I wear; owe no man Hate, envy no 
 man's Happiness ; glad of other men's good ; content with my 
 harm. 
 
 Jgapp mess. — Pope. 
 
 [^NOW, all the good that individuals find, 
 
 Or God and Nature meant to mere mankind, 
 Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, 
 Lie in three words, Health, Peace, and Competence 
 But Health consists with temperance alone ; 
 And Peace, Virtue ! Peace is all thy own. 
 The good or bad the gifts of Fortune gain ; 
 But these less taste them, as they worse obtain. 
 
 J^appmrSS. — Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 'THERE is no man but may make his Paradise, 
 
 And it is nothing but his Love and Dotage 
 Upon the World's foul joys, that keeps him out on't; 
 For he that lives retired in mind and spirit, 
 Is still in Paradise. 
 
 #)apphuss.— Burns. 
 
 'THINK ye, that sic as you and I, 
 
 Wha drudge and drive thro' wet and dry, 
 
 Wi' never-ceasing toil ; 
 Think ye, are we less blest than they, 
 Wha scarcely tent us in their way, 
 
 As hardly worth their while ? 
 
 ?i)apptnCSS. — Dry den. 
 They live too long, who Happiness out-live : 
 For life and death are things indifferent ; 
 Each to be chose, as either brings Content. 
 
 JftappmeSS. — Shakspeare. 
 OH, how bitter a thing it is to look into Happiness through an- 
 other man's eyes ! 
 
 Ji^apptlteSS. — Shakspeare. 
 CILENCE is the perfected herald of Joy : I were but little Happy, 
 if I could say how much. 
 
 ^appmeSS. — Burns. 
 TTS no' in Books, its no' in lear, 
 
 To make us truly blest : 
 If Happiness has not her seat 
 
 And centre in the Breast, 
 We may be wise, or rich or great, 
 
 But never can be blest. 
 
214 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ?l]apptne0!5, —Joanna Baillie. 
 'THE Bliss e'en of a moment, still is Bliss. 
 
 Thou wouldst not of her dew-drops spoil the thorn 
 Because her Glory will not last till noon ; 
 Nor still the lightsome gambols of the Colt, 
 Whose neck to-morrow's joke will gall. 
 
 Jftapptntm — Young. 
 "TO'HAT makes Man wretched ? Happiness denied ? 
 
 No : His Happiness disdain'd. 
 She comes too meanly drest to win our smile ; 
 And calls herself Content, a homely name ! 
 Our flame is Transport, and Conteut our scorn. 
 Ambition turns, and shuts the door against her, 
 And weds a Toil, a Tempest, in her stead. 
 
 ?l}appm*m — Greville. 
 T KNOW not whether the truest and best state of Nature be not 
 a state of more Prejudice and Ignorance than we are aware of. 
 
 JgapptrteSS. —JDuchesse de Praslin. 
 ( )UR Happiness in this world depends on the affections we are 
 enabled to inspire. 
 
 ?^appmeiS0. — Prudentius. 
 "\\TE thro' this maze of Life one Lord obey, 
 
 Whose Light and Grace unerring lead the way. 
 By Hope and Faith secure of future bliss, 
 Gladly the joys of present Life we miss; 
 For baffled mortals still attempt in vain, 
 Present and future Bliss at once to gain. 
 
 JftappmeSS. — Shenstone. 
 TT is one species of Despair to have no room to hope for any addi- 
 tion to one's Happiness. His following wish must then be to 
 wish he had some fresh object for his wishes; a strong Argument 
 that our minds and bodies were both meant to be for ever active. 
 
 JgappmeSg. — Sterne. 
 A LAS ! if the principles of Contentment are not within us, — the 
 height of Station and worldly Grandeur will as soon add a cubit 
 to a man's stature as to his Happiness. 
 
 Jgapp mem —Johnson. 
 'THE fountain of Content must spring up in the Mind ; and he, 
 who has so little knowledge of human nature, as to seek Hap- 
 piness by changing any thing but his own Dispositions, will waste 
 his life in fruitless efforts, and multiply the Griefs which he pur- 
 poses to remove. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 215 
 
 JgapphUSS.— Landor. 
 /"J-OODNESS does not more certainly make men happy, than Hap- 
 piness makes them good. We must distinguish between Feli- 
 city and Prosperity, for Prosperity leads often to Ambition, and 
 Ambition to Disappointment; the course is then over, the wheel 
 turns round but once, while the reaction of Goodness and Happi- 
 ness is perpetual. 
 
 Jgappmess.— Paiey. 
 
 Happiness consists in the constitution of the Habits. 
 
 &Wppintf&.—Anon. 
 
 TF Happiness were an attainment of the Mind, to be acquired £S 
 a science or an art is learnt from the master, the teacher might 
 justly be considered as the Vicegerent of God, and no place could 
 contain the numbers that would flock to his School ; but in this, 
 the Almighty has delegated his power to every person only respect- 
 ing himself. 
 
 JfrappmeSg. — Seneca. 
 T'HE great Blessings of mankind are within us, and within our 
 reach, but we shut our Eyes, and, like people in the dark, we 
 fall foul upon the very thing we search for, without finding it. 
 
 JtyapptrteSJEf. —Addison. 
 /CONTENTMENT produces, in some measure, all those effects 
 which the Alchemist usually ascribes to what he calls the Phi- 
 losopher's Stone ; and if it does not bring Riches, it does the same 
 thing by banishing the desire of them. 
 
 JftappmcSS. — Mackenzie. 
 T HAVE observed one ingredient somewhat necessary in a man's 
 composition toward Happiness, which people of feeling would 
 do well to acquire — a certain respect for the follies of mankind : for 
 there are so many Fools whom the world entitles to regard, whom 
 accident has placed in heights of which they are unworthy, that he 
 who cannot restrain his Contempt or Indignation at the sight, will 
 be too often quarrelling with the disposal of things to relish that 
 share which is allotted to himself. 
 
 feappme**.— Burton. 
 
 A S the Ivy twines around the Oak, so does Misery and Misfortune 
 encompass the Happiness of man. Felicity, pure and unalloyed 
 Felicity, is not a plant of earthly growth; her gardens are the 
 Skies. 
 
 JftappmeSS. — Longfellow. 
 TTIE rays of Happiness, like those of light, are colourless when 
 unbroken. 
 
 t2 
 
216 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %fy&ppint8n. — Seneca. 
 
 pjE must be Miserable who does not consider himself Happy, 
 although he could command the Universe ; no man can bo 
 Happy who does not think himself so, for it signifies not how 
 exalted soever your Station may be, if it appears to you bad. 
 
 JgappmeSS. — Budgell. 
 A S nothing is more natural than for every one to desire to be 
 happy, it is not to be wondered at that the wisest men in all 
 ages have spent so much time to discover what Happiness is, and 
 wherein it chiefly consists. An eminent writer, named Varro, 
 reckons up no less than two hundred and eighty-eight different 
 Opinions upon this subject ; and another, called Lucian, after 
 having given us a long catalogue of the notions of several philoso- 
 phers, endeavours to show the Absurdity of all of them, without 
 establishing any thing of his own. 
 
 JftatfmeSS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Yet famine, 
 Ere clean it o'erthrow Nature, makes it valiant. 
 Plenty, and peace, breeds Cowards ; Hardness ever 
 Of Hardness is mother. 
 
 J^at&ttegS. — Shakspeare. 
 T HAVE almost forgot the taste of Fears : 
 
 The time has been, my senses would have cool'd 
 To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair 
 Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir 
 As life were in't : I have supp'd full of Horrors; 
 Direness, familiar to my slaughterous Thoughts, 
 Cannot once start me. 
 
 W§Z J^adOt— Shakspeare. 
 
 'Tis the Strumpet's plague, 
 To beguile many, and be beguiled by one. 
 
 Jgatteu"* — Plutarch. 
 TF you hate your Enemies, you will contract such a vicious habit 
 of mind, as by degrees will break out upon those who are your 
 Friends, or those who are indifferent to you. 
 
 Jftattru'. — La Brut/ere. 
 T^HE passion of Hatred is so durable, and so inveterate, that the 
 surest prognostic of Death in a sick man is a wish for Reconci- 
 liation. 
 
 Jftatretr. — Tacitus. 
 TT is the nature of the human disposition to Hate him whom you 
 have injured. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 217 
 
 ^atECu'. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 When our Hatred is too keen, it places us beneath those we hate. 
 
 J^atrefo. — La Brmjere. 
 TO be deprived of the person we love, is a Happiness in com- 
 parison of living with one we hate. 
 
 #)atteK— Byron. 
 T\TARP'D by the world in Disappointment's school, 
 
 In words too wise, in conduct there a fool; 
 Too firm to yield, and far too proud to stoop, 
 Doom'd by his very virtues for a dupe, 
 He cursed those Virtues as the cause of ill, 
 And not the traitors who betray'd him still ; 
 Nor deem'd that gifts bestow' d on better men, 
 Had left him joy, and means to give again. 
 Fear'd, shunn'd, belied, ere Youth had lost her force, 
 He hated man too much to feel Remorse, 
 And thought the voice of Wrath a sacred call, 
 To pay the Injuries of some on all. 
 
 JftcaltJ). — Sir W. Temple. 
 HTHE only way for a rich man to be healthy is, by Exercise and 
 Abstinence, to live as if he was poor. 
 
 Jftealtf). — ShaJcspeare. 
 JNFIRMITY doth still neglect all office 
 
 Whereto our Health is bound ; we are not ourselves 
 When Nature, being oppress' d, commands the mind 
 To suffer with the body. 
 
 ffit&ltfy.— Johnson. 
 TTEALTH is certainly more valuable than Money, because it is by 
 
 Health that Money is procured; but thousands and millions 
 are of small avail to alleviate the protracted tortures of the Gout, 
 to repair the broken organs of sense, or resuscitate the powers of 
 Digestion. Poverty is, indeed, an evil from which we naturally 
 fly ; but let us not run from one enemy to another, nor take shelter 
 iu the arms of Sickness. 
 
 $}ealtf). — Sterne. 
 Q BLESSED Health ! thou art above all Gold and Treasure j 
 
 'tis thou who enlargest the Soul, and openest all its powers 
 to receive instruction, and to relish Virtue. — He that has thee has 
 little more to wish for ! and he that is so wretched as to want thee, 
 wants every thing with thee. 
 
 jgealtf)*— Churchill. 
 
 The surest road to Health, say what they will, 
 Is never to suppose we shall be ill. 
 
218 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Itycaltfy. — Litcan. 
 
 Thou chiefest Good ! 
 Bestow'd by Heaven, but seldom understood. 
 
 Jgealtf). — Sir W. Temple. 
 □HEALTH is the soul that animates all enjoyments of life, which 
 fade, and are tasteless, if not dead, without it : a man starves 
 at the best and the greatest Tables, makes faces at the noblest and 
 most delicate Wines, is old and impotent in Seraglios of the most 
 sparkling beauties, poor and wretched in the midst of the greatest 
 treasures and fortunes; with common diseases Strength grows de- 
 crepit, Youth loses all vigour, and Beauty all charms; Music 
 grows harsh, and Conversation disagreeable ; Palaces are prisons, 
 or of equal confinement ; Riches are useless, Honour and Attend- 
 ance are cumbersome, and crowns themselves are a burden : but 
 if Diseases are painful and violent, they equal all conditions of 
 life, make no difference between a Prince and a Beggar ; and a fit 
 of the stone or the colic puts a King to the rack, and makes him 
 as miserable as he can do the meanest, the worst, and most criminal 
 of his subjects. 
 
 Jgealtj)-— Martial. 
 For Life is not to live, but to be Well. 
 
 Jgealtfj. — Clcmdian. 
 
 XT AIL, greatest Good Dardanian fields bestow, 
 
 At whose command Paeonian waters flow ; 
 Unpurchased Health ! that dost thy aid impart 
 Both to the Patient and the Doctor's art ! 
 
 J^ealtf) — Colton. 
 THERE is this difference between those two temporal blessings, 
 Health and Money : Money is the most envied, but the least 
 enjoyed; Health is the most enjoyed, but the least envied: and 
 this superiority of the latter is still more obvious when we reflect, 
 that the poorest man would not part with Health for Money, but 
 that the richest would gladly part with all their Money for Health. 
 
 jgealtf).— Colton. 
 
 A NGUISH of Mind has driven thousands to suicide; Anguish of 
 
 Body, none. This proves that the Health of the Mind is of 
 
 far more consequence to our Happiness than the Health of the 
 
 Body, although both are deserving of much more attention than 
 
 either of them receives. 
 
 ^ealtf)- — Sterne. 
 PEOPLE who are always taking care of their Health are like 
 misers, who are hoarding up a treasure which they have never 
 spirit enough to enjoy. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 219 
 
 J^Ctlltf). — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "PRESERVING the Health by too strict a regimen is a wearisome 
 Malady. 
 
 J^ealtf), — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 Great Temp' ranee, open air, 
 Easy labour, little Care. 
 
 Cf)e yfyZWtt — Shakspeare. 
 All offences come from the Heart. 
 
 Q&xeat QltaXtX.—Bi/ron. 
 
 Look on me ! there is an order 
 Of mortals on the earth, who do become 
 Old in their youth, and die ere middle age, 
 Without the violence of warlike Death ; 
 Some perishing of Pleasure — some of Study — 
 Some worn with Toil — some of mere weariness- 
 Some of Disease — and some of Insanity — 
 And some of wither' d, or of broken Hearts; 
 For this last is a malady which slays 
 More than are number'd in the lists of Fate, 
 Taking all shapes, and bearing many names. 
 
 tytabtU. — Lavater. 
 THE Generous who is always Just, and the Just who is always 
 Generous, may, unannounced, approach the throne of Heaven. 
 
 SKabntlj) Hobe. — Edwards. 
 "pVERY saint in Heaven is as a flower in the garden of God, and 
 holy love is the fragrance and sweet odour that they all send 
 forth, and with which they fill the bowers of that paradise above. 
 Every soul there is as a note in some concert of delightful music, 
 that sweetly harmonizes with every other note, and all together 
 blend in the most rapturous strains in praising God and the Lamb 
 for ever. 
 
 Cf)e #}Cabcn0.— Young. 
 QNE Sun by day, by night ten thousand shine ; 
 
 And light us deep into the Deity ; 
 How boundless in Magnificence and Might ! 
 Oh what a confluence of ethereal Fires, 
 From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of Heaven, 
 Streams to a point, and centers in my sight ! 
 Nor tarries there ; I feel it at my Heart ; 
 My Heart, at once, it humbles and exalts; 
 Lays it in dust, and calls it to the Skies. 
 
w 
 
 220 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cfje ^eabens, — Byron. 
 
 VE Stars ! which are the poetry of Heaven, 
 
 If in your bright leaves we would read the Fate 
 Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, 
 That in our Aspirations to be great, 
 Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, 
 And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are 
 
 A Beauty and a Mystery, and create 
 In us such love and reverence from afar, 
 That Fortune, Fame, Power, Life, have named themselves a star. 
 
 Cfje J^eabens.— Pope. 
 
 Nature, and Nature's laws, lay hid in night; 
 God said, let Newton be ; and all was Light. 
 
 C f)e J^eabettS, — Young. 
 HAT involution ! what extent ! what swarms 
 Of worlds, that laugh at Earth ! immensely great ! 
 Immensely distant from each other's spheres; 
 What then the wond'rous Space through which they roll ? 
 At once it quite engulfs all human thought; 
 'Tis comprehension's absolute Defeat. 
 
 C f)e ?$eabett!5. — Young. 
 HPHIS Prospect vast, what is it ? — weigh'd aright, 
 
 'Tis Nature's system of Divinity, 
 And every student of the Night inspires. 
 'Tis elder Scripture, writ by God's own hand : 
 Scripture authentic ! uncorrupt by man. 
 
 WtyZ ^eabemi, — Byron. 
 
 Oh, thou beautiful 
 And unimaginable Ether ! and 
 Ye multiplying masses of increased 
 And still-increasing Lights ! what are ye ? what 
 Is this blue wilderness of interminable 
 Air, where ye roll along, as I have seen 
 The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden ? 
 Is your course measured for ye ? Or do ye 
 Sweep on in your unbounded Revelry 
 Through an aerial universe of endless 
 Expansion, at which my soul aches to think, 
 Intoxicated with Eternity ? 
 God ! Gods ! or whatsoe'er ye are ! 
 How beautiful ye are ! how beautiful 
 Your works, or accident, or whatsoe'er 
 They may be ! Let me die, as atoms die, 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 221 
 
 (If that they die,) or know ye in your Might 
 And Knowledge ! My thoughts are not in this hour 
 Unworthy what I see, though my dust is; 
 Spirit ! let me expire, or see them nearer. 
 
 Cf)e JgerO.— Byron. 
 A LL these he wielded to command assent : 
 
 But where he wish'd to win, so well unbent, 
 That kindness cancell'd Fear in those who heard, 
 And others' gifts show'd mean beside his word, 
 When echoed to the Heart as from his own, 
 His deep yet tender melody of tone : 
 But such was foreign to his wonted mood, 
 He cared not what he soften'd, but subdued ; 
 The evil passions of his youth had made 
 Him value less who loved — than what obey'd. 
 
 2Tf)e Q}CX0.— Churchill 
 THINGS of the noblest kind his Genius drew, 
 
 And look'd through Nature at a single view : 
 A loose he gave to his unbounded Soul, 
 And taught new lands to rise, new seas to roll ; 
 Call'd into being scenes unknown before, 
 And, passing Nature's bounds, was something more. 
 
 Cf)e Q}tZ0.— Byron. 
 Well had he learn'd to curb the crowd, 
 By arts that vail, and oft preserve the proud; 
 His was the lofty Port, the distant Mien, 
 That seems to shun the sight — and awes if seen : 
 The solemn Aspect, and the high-born Eye, 
 That checks low tnirth, but lacks not Courtesy. 
 
 €f)e Jftero. — Scott. 
 
 "PROUD was his Tone, but calm ; his Eye 
 
 Had that compelling Dignity, 
 His Mien that bearing haught and high, 
 Which common spirits fear. 
 
 Cf)e JftcrO.— Byron. 
 ;r riS thus the spirit of a single mind 
 
 Makes that of multitudes take one direction, 
 As roll the waters to the breathing wind, 
 
 Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection ; 
 Or as a little dog will lead the blind, 
 
 Or a bell-wether form the flock's connection, 
 By tinkling sounds, when they go forth to victual;— 
 Such is the sway of your Great Men o'er little. 
 
222 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)e Jl^ttU — Byron. 
 They crouch'd to him, for he had Skill 
 To warp and wield the vulgar will. 
 
 Cje fyttO. — Byron. 
 THAT Man of loneliness and mystery, 
 
 Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh; 
 Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, 
 And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue ; 
 Still sways their Souls with that commanding art 
 That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. 
 What is that Spell, that thus his lawless train 
 Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain ? 
 What should it be that thus their faith can bind ? 
 The power of Thought — the magic of the Mind ! 
 Link'd with success, assumed and kept with skill, 
 That moulds another's weakness to its will; 
 Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown, 
 Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own. 
 Such hath it been — shall be — beneath the sun 
 The many still must labour for the one ! 
 'Tis Nature's doom — but let the wretch who toils 
 Accuse not, hate not him who wears the spoils ; 
 Oh ! if he knew the Weight of splendid chains, 
 How light the Balance of his humbler pains ! 
 
 JL^tOtSm"* — Shakspeare. 
 1" HAVE, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, 
 
 Labouring for destiny, make cruel way 
 Through ranks of G-reekish youth : and I have seen thee, 
 As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, 
 Despising many forfeits and subduements, 
 When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air, 
 Nor letting it decline on the declined ; 
 That I have said to some my standers-by, 
 Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life ! 
 And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath, 
 When that a ring of Grreeks have hemm'd thee in, 
 Like an Olympian wrestling. 
 
 Jgerotsm,— Coiton. 
 
 "y\TE cannot think too highly of our Nature, nor too humbly of 
 ourselves. When we see the Martyr to Virtue ; subject as he 
 is to the infirmities of a man, yet suffering the tortures of a demon, 
 and bearing them with the magnanimity of a God, do we not be- 
 hold a Heroism that angels may indeed surpass, but which they 
 cannot imitate, and must admire. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 223 
 
 PetSOttal 2£>tSt0rp* — La Bruyere. 
 
 A N old Courtier, with veracity, good sense, and a faithful me- 
 mory, is an inestimable treasure : he is full of transactions and 
 maxims ; in him one may find the History of the Age, enriched 
 with a great many curious circumstances, which we never meet 
 with in books. 
 
 &0e Of ffitStOrg. — Tacitus. 
 THIS I hold to be the chief office of History, to rescue virtuous 
 actions from the oblivion to which a want of Records would 
 consign them, and that men should feel a dread of being considered 
 infamous in the opinions of Posterity, from their depraved expres- 
 sions and base actions. 
 
 JftollOtoneSS. — ShaJcspeare. 
 THERE are no tricks in plain and simple Faith : 
 
 But hollow men, like Horses hot at hand, 
 Make gallant show and promise of their mettle : 
 But when they should endure the bloody spur, 
 They fall their crests, and, like deceitful Jades, 
 Sink in the Trial. 
 
 Jft0l|> &&lat, — ShaJcspeare. 
 THEN if you fight against God's enemy, 
 
 God will in justice ward you as his soldiers. 
 If you do swear to put a Tyrant down, 
 You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain. 
 If you do fight against your Country's foes, 
 Your Country's Fat shall pay your pains the Hire. 
 If you do fight in safeguard of your Wives, 
 Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors. 
 If you do free your Children from the sword, 
 Your children's children quit it in your Age. 
 
 tyome.— Burns. 
 AT length his lonely Cot appears in view, 
 
 Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; 
 Th' expectant wee things, todlin, stacher through 
 To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise and glee. 
 His wee-bit ingle blinkin bonnilie, 
 
 His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty Wine's smile, 
 The lisping infant prattling on his knee, 
 
 Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile, 
 And makes him quite forget his labour and his toil. 
 
 $$OVM. — Shenstone. 
 
 THE proper means of increasing the love we bear our Native 
 Country, is to reside some time in a foreign one. 
 
 U 
 
224 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Jgome.— Byron. 
 
 pTE enter'd in his house — his Home no more, 
 
 For without Hearts there is no Home ; — and felt 
 The solitude of passing his own door 
 Without a Welcome. 
 
 JgOm*, — Moore. 
 
 C\ Nature ! though blessed and bright are thy rajs, 
 O'er the brow of Creation enchantingly thrown, 
 Yet faint are they all to the lustre, that plays 
 
 In a smile from the Heart that is dearly our own ! 
 
 JtJOme.— Goldsmith. 
 TN all my wanderings round this world of care, 
 
 In all my Griefs — and God has given my share — 
 I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, 
 Amidst these humble Bowers to lay me down ; 
 To husband out life's taper at the close, 
 And keep the flame from wasting, by repose : 
 I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, 
 Amidst the swains to show my book-learn'd skill, 
 Around my fire an evening group to draw, 
 And tell of all I felt, and all I saw ; 
 And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, 
 Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, 
 I still had hopes, my long vexations past, 
 Here to return — and die at Home at last. 
 
 p^Clttte. — Hannah More. 
 HPHE angry word suppress'd, the taunting thought; 
 
 Subduing and subdued, the petty strife, 
 Which clouds the colour of domestic Life ; 
 The sober comfort, all the peace which springs 
 From the large aggregate of little things ) 
 On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, 
 The almost sacred joys of Home depend. 
 
 Jl^Ome.— Mrs. Opie. 
 TTENCE far from me, ye senseless joys, 
 
 That fade before ye reach the Heart, — 
 The crowded dome's distracted noise, 
 
 Where all is pomp and useless art ! 
 Give me my Home, to quiet dear, 
 
 Where hours untold and peaceful move; 
 So fate ordain I sometimes there 
 May hear the Voice of him I love. 
 
 J 
 
n 
 
 OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 225 
 
 gO«te . — Thomson. 
 
 'THE touch of kindred too and love he feels; 
 The modest eye, whose beams on his alone 
 Ecstatic shine : the little strong embrace 
 Of prattling children, twined around his neck, 
 And emulous to please him, calling forth 
 The fond paternal soul. Nor purpose gay, 
 Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns; 
 For Happiness and true Philosophy 
 Are of the social, still, and smiling kind. 
 This is the Life which those who fret in guilt, 
 And guilty cities, never know ; the life, 
 Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt, 
 When angels dwelt, and God himself, with man ! 
 
 JgOtne. — Young. 
 The first sure symptom of a mind in Health, 
 Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at Home. 
 
 J^OmC — Southey. 
 
 "pAREWELL my Home, my Home no longer now, 
 Witness of many a calm and happy day; 
 
 And thou, fair eminence, upon whose brow 
 Dwells the last sunshine of the evening ray. 
 
 Farewell ! Mine eyes no longer shall pursue 
 The westering sun beyond the utmost height, 
 When slowly he forsakes the fields of light. 
 
 No more the freshness of the falling dew, 
 
 Cool and delightful here shall bathe my head, 
 As from this western window dear, I lean 
 Listening the while I watch the placid scene, — 
 
 The martins twittering underneath the shed. 
 
 Farewell my Home, where many a day has past 
 
 In joys whose loved Remembrance long shall last. 
 
 ^OUeStn. _ SAakspeare. 
 THHERE is no terror in your threats; 
 
 For I am arm'd so strong in Honesty, 
 That they pa^s by me as the idle wind, 
 Which I respect not. 
 
 itt>OlteSt|). — Howe. 
 The brave do never shun the Light; 
 Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers; 
 Freely without Disguise they love or hate : 
 Still are they found in the fair face of day, 
 And Heaven and Men are Judges of their actions. 
 
 15 
 
226 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 J&mejstg. — coiton. 
 
 "V'OTHING more completely baffles one who is full of trick and 
 Duplicity himself, than straightforward and simple Integrity 
 in another. A knave would rather quarrel with a brother-knave, 
 than with a Fool, but he would rather avoid a quarrel with one 
 Honest Man, than with both. He can combat a Fool by manage- 
 ment and address, and he can conquer a Knave by temptations. 
 But the Honest Man is neither to be bamboozled nor bribed. 
 
 J^OtteStg. — Cowley. 
 'THE best kind of Glory is that which is reflected from Honesty, 
 such as was the glory of Cato and Aristides; but it was harmful 
 to them both, and is seldom beneficial to any man while he lives. 
 
 J^OtteStg. — Socrates. 
 'THE shortest and surest way to live with Honour in the world, 
 is to be in reality what we would appear to be ; and if we ob- 
 serve, we shall find, that all human Virtues increase and strengthen 
 themselves by the practice and Experience of them. 
 
 ffiOtteStg. — Shakspeare. 
 T^HILE others fish with craft for great opinion, 
 
 I with great Truth catch mere Simplicity ; 
 Whilst some with Cunning gild their copper crowns, 
 With Truth and Plainness I do wear mine bare. 
 Fear not my Truth ; the moral of my Wit 
 Is — plain, and true, — there's all the reach of it. 
 
 J^OneStg, — Cicero. 
 XTTHAT is becoming is Honest, and whatever is Honest must 
 always be becoming. 
 
 J^OneStg. — SJiakspeare. 
 T>ECAUSE I cannot flatter, and speak fair, 
 
 Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog, 
 Duck with French nods and apish Courtesy, 
 I must be held a rancorous enemy. 
 Cannot a plain man live, and think no Harm, 
 But thus his simple Truth must be abused 
 By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? 
 
 J^OtteStg* — Shakspeare. 
 An Honest Man is able to speak for himself, when a Knave is not. 
 
 ?^0nCStJ>. — Montaigne. 
 A LL other Knowledge is hurtful to him who has not Honesty 
 and good-nature. 
 
 JjgOneStg. — Shakspeare. 
 nPO be Honest, as this World goes, is to be one man picked cut 
 of ten thousand. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 227 
 
 pjSOtteStfg. — Lamier. 
 TTE who freely praises what he means to purchase, and he who 
 enumerates the Faults of what he means to sell, may set up a 
 partnership with Honesty. 
 
 JftOtteStp. — Shakspeare. 
 TTIS nature is too noble for the World : 
 
 He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, 
 Or Jove for his power to thunder. His Heart's his mouth : 
 What his Breast forges, that his tongue must vent; 
 And being angry, does forget that ever 
 He heard the name of Death. 
 
 iftonCStJ). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Never any thing can be amiss, 
 When Simpleness and Duty tender it. 
 
 J^CmeStp. — Colton. 
 TT is much easier to ruin a man of principle, than a man of none, 
 for he may be ruined through his Scruples. Knavery is supple, 
 and can bend, but Honesty is firm and upright, and yields not. 
 
 ?i)0neStg. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 A RIGHT mind and generous affection hath more Beauty and 
 
 charms than all other symmetries in the world besides; and a 
 
 grain of Honesty and native Worth is of more value than all the 
 
 adventitious ornaments, estates, or preferments; for the sake of 
 
 which some of the better sort so oft turn Knaves. 
 
 J6<mWt2|. — Shenstone. 
 TT should seem that Indolence itself would incline a person to be 
 Honest, as it requires infinitely greater pains and contrivance to 
 be a Knave. 
 
 $O1tt0tg FranHin. 
 
 T ET Honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to 
 have a penny, when all thy expenses are enumerated and paid : 
 then shalt thou reach the point of Happiness, and independence 
 shall be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown; then shall 
 thy Soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch because he 
 hath riches, nor pocket an Abuse because the hand which offers it 
 wears a ring set with Diamonds. 
 
 J^OnOUr. — Dry den. 
 
 Woman's Honour, 
 Is nice as Ermine, will not bear a soil. 
 
 J^OnOUX— Shakspeare. 
 Mine Honour is my Life; both grow in one ; 
 Take Honour from me, and my Life is done, 
 o 2 
 
228 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 honour. — Byron. 
 
 Where is Honour, 
 Innate and precept-strengthen'd, 'tis the rock 
 Of Faith connubial : where it is not — where 
 Light thoughts are lurking, or the vanities 
 Of worldly pleasure rankle in the heart, 
 Or sensual throbs convulse it, well I know 
 ; Twere hopeless for Humanity to dream 
 Of Honesty in such infected blood, 
 Although 'twere wed to him it covets most. 
 
 JgOnOUX — Shakspeare. 
 ~RY Jove I am not covetous of Gold, 
 
 Nor care I, who doth feed upon my cost; 
 It yearns me not if men my garments wear; 
 Such outward things dwell not in my desires: 
 But, if it be a sin to covet Honour, 
 I am the most offending soul alive. 
 
 Concur.— Coiton. 
 
 TTONOUR is unstable, and seldom the same; for she feeds upon 
 Opinion, and is as fickle as her food. She builds a lofty struc- 
 ture on the sandy foundation of the esteem of those who are of all 
 beings the most subject to change. But Virtue is uniform and 
 fixed, because she looks for approbation only from Him who is the 
 Banie yesterday, to-day, and for ever. 
 
 JgOltOUt:.— Shakspeare. 
 If well-respected Honour bid me on, 
 I hold as little counsel with weak fear, 
 As you. 
 
 J^MtOUt- — Shakspeare. 
 
 The mere word's a slave, 
 Debauch'd on every Tomb; on every grave, 
 A lying Trophy ; and as oft is dumb, 
 Where dust, and damn'd oblivion, is the Tomb 
 Of honour'd bones indeed. 
 
 JgCttrjUr, — Phcedrus. 
 'THE Athenians erected a large statue to iEsop, and placed him, 
 though a Slave, on a lasting pedestal; to show that the way 
 to Honour lies open indifferently to all. 
 
 ^OnOUr. — Shakspeare. 
 
 What I did, I did in Honour, 
 Led by th' impartial conduct of my soul ; 
 And never shall you see, that I will beg 
 A ragged and forestall' d remission. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 229 
 
 Ji)OnOttrS.— La Bruyere. 
 'THERE is what is called the highway to Posts and Honours, 
 and there is a cross and by-way, which is much the shortest. 
 
 J$npe._ YonKnebel. 
 TRUE Hope is based on energy of character. A strong mind 
 always hopes, and has always cause to hope, because it knows 
 the Mutability of human affairs, and how slight a circumstance may 
 change the whole course of events. Such a spirit too rests upon 
 itself; it is not confined to partial views, or to one particular ob- 
 ject. And if at last all should be lost, it has saved itself- — its own 
 integrity and worth. Hope awakens Courage, while Despondency 
 is the last of all evils ; it is the abandonment of good, — the giving 
 up of the battle of life with dead nothingness. He who can im- 
 plant Courage in the human soul is the best physician. 
 
 J^Ope. — From the French. 
 Hope is the Dream of a waking man. 
 
 J^Ope. — Cowley. 
 JJOPE ! Fortune's cheating lottery ! 
 
 Where for one prize a hundred blanks there be; 
 Fond archer, Hope ! who takest thy aim so far, 
 That still or short or wide thine Arrows are ! 
 
 Ji)0pe. — Spenser. 
 Hope in rancke, a handsome mayd, 
 
 Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold ; 
 In silken samite she was light arayd, 
 
 And her fayre locks were woven up in Gold. 
 
 She always smyld, and in her hand did hold 
 An holy-water sprinckle, dipt in deowe, 
 
 With which she sprinkled Favours manifold 
 On whom she list, and did great liking sheowe, 
 Great liking unto many, but true love to feowe. 
 
 ?!}0pe. — Leighton. 
 A LIVING Hope, living in Death itself. The world dares say 
 no more for its device than dum spiro spero, (whilst I breathe 
 I hope;) but the children of God can add, by virtue of this living 
 Hope, dum expiro spero, (whilst I expire I hope.) 
 
 J^OPC. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 7N the treatment of nervous cases, he is the best Physician who 
 is the most ingenious inspirer of Hope. 
 
 ?^0pe, — Hume. 
 J^ PROPENSITY to Hope and Joy is real riches ; one to Fear 
 and Sorrow, real poverty. 
 
230 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Ji)0pe.— Collins. 
 T)UT thou, Hope, with eyes so fair, 
 What was thy delighted measure ? 
 Still it whisper'd promised pleasure, 
 
 And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! 
 Still would her touch the strain prolong, 
 
 And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, 
 She call'd on Echo still through all her song; 
 
 And where her sweetest theme she chose, 
 A soft responsive voice was heard at every close, 
 
 And Hope enchanted smiled, aud waved her golden hair. 
 
 $Jfjpe. — Prior. 
 HPHUS, through what path soe'er of life we rove, 
 
 Rage companies our hate, and Grief our love. 
 Vex'd with the present moment's heavy gloom, 
 Why seek we brightness from the years to come ? 
 Disturb'd and broken like a sick man's sleep, 
 Our troubled thoughts to distant prospects leap, 
 Desirous still what flies us to o'ertake, 
 For Hope is but the dream of those that wake. 
 
 JltOpe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Hope is a lover's Staff; walk hence with that, 
 And manage it against despairing Thoughts. 
 
 itt?0pe. — Campbell. 
 ^USPICIOUS Hope ! in thy sweet garden grow 
 Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every wo : 
 Won by their sweets, in Nature's languid hour, 
 The way-worn Pilgrim seeks thy summer bower; 
 There, as the wild bee murmurs on the wing, 
 What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring ! 
 What viewless forms th' iEolian organ play, 
 And sweep the furrow'd lines of anxious Thought away ! 
 
 Ji)fjpe. — Shakspeare. 
 The Miserable hath no other Medicine, 
 But only Hope. 
 
 J^OP Z.— Byron. 
 \^/ r HITE as a white sail on a dusky sea, 
 
 When half the Horizon's clouded and half free, 
 Fluttering between the dun wave and the sky, 
 Is Hope's last gleam in man's extremity. 
 
 J^fjpe. — ShaTcspeare. 
 True Hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings, 
 Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 231 
 
 ftftyt. — Skakspeare. 
 
 The ample proposition; that Hope makes 
 In all designs begun on earth below, 
 Fails in the promised largeness. 
 
 Jgope. — Pope. 
 TTOPE humbly then; with trembling pinions soar, 
 Wait the great teacher, Death, and G-od adore : 
 What future bliss, He gives not thee to know, 
 But gives that Hope to be thy blessing now. 
 Hope springs eternal in the human breast: 
 Man never Is, but always To be blest ; 
 The soul, uneasy, and confined from Home, 
 Rests and expatiates in a life to come. 
 
 Jgope. — Proctor. 
 
 What's i' the air? — 
 Some subtle spirit runs through all my veins. 
 Hope seems to ride this morning on the Wind, 
 And Joy outshines the sun. 
 
 ^Ope.— Young. 
 TTOPE, of all passions, most befriends us here; 
 
 Passions of prouder name befriend us less. 
 Joy has her tears; and transport has her Death : 
 Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong, 
 Man's heart at once inspirits, and serenes ; 
 Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys; 
 'Tis all our present state can safely bear, 
 Health to the frame, and vigour to the mind ! 
 A joy attemper'd ! a chasti.-ed delight ! 
 Like the fair summer evening, mild and sweet ! 
 'Tis man's full cup : his Paradise below ! 
 
 Ji^Ope. — ShaJcspeare. 
 TTE hath persecuted Time with Hope ; and finds no other advan- 
 tage in the process but only the losing of Hope by Time. 
 
 JE)OP0. — Shahspeare. 
 Even through the hollow eyes of Death, 
 I spy life peering ; but I dare not say 
 How near the tidings of our Comfort is. 
 
 Jftrjpe. — Cowley. 
 Hope ! of all ills that men endure, 
 The only cheap and universal cure ! 
 Thou captive's Freedom, and thou sick man's Health ! 
 Thou lover's Victory, and thou beggar's Wealth ! 
 
232 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 tyOVt. — Coirtei/. 
 Brother of Fear, more gayly clad ! 
 The merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad : 
 Sire of Kepentance ! child of fond Desire ! 
 That blow'st the chymics' and the lovers' fire. 
 Leading them still insensibly on 
 By the strange witchcraft of "anon V 
 By thee the one does changing Nature, through 
 
 Her endlest labyrinths, pursue ; 
 And th' other chases Woman, while she goes 
 More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows. 
 
 i^Ope. — Moore. 
 TTER precious pearl, in Sorrow's cup, 
 
 Unmelted at the bottom lay, 
 To shine again, when, all drunk up, 
 The bitterness should pass away. 
 
 JgOSpttalttg. — Goldsmith. 
 T5LEST be that Spot, where cheerful Guests retire 
 To pause from Toil, and trim their evening fire j 
 Blest that Abode, where want and pain repair, 
 And every Stranger finds a ready chair : 
 Blest be those Feasts with simple plenty crown'd, 
 Where all the ruddy family around 
 Laugh at the jest or prank^ that never fail, 
 Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale, 
 Or press the bashful Stranger to his food, 
 And learn the luxury of doing Good. 
 
 fgUtnatt jjiaturc — . Shakspeare. 
 ITATH not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimension, 
 senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same Food, hurt with 
 the same Weapons, subject to the same Diseases, healed by the 
 same means, warmed and cooled by the same Winter and Summer, 
 as a Christian is? if you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle 
 us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? 
 
 Jguman ifiaturc— Anon. 
 
 TT is only when blinded by Self-love, that we can think proudly 
 of our Nature. Take away that blind; and in our judgments 
 of others we are quicksighted enough to see there is very little in 
 that Nature to rely on. 
 
 J&Utnan i&atUtC. — From the Latin. 
 To escape Hatred is to gain a Triumph. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 233 
 
 Jiniman ^erfecttutlttp. — Anon. 
 
 ^HE strange inconsistency is, that, the very persons who have 
 indulged in the most splendid visions about the Perfectibility 
 of Mankind, have mostly rejected the only principle of Perfectibility 
 which has ever found place in man, the only principle by which man's 
 natural corruptibility has ever been checked, the only principle by 
 which nations or individuals have ever been regenerated. The 
 natural Life of Nations, as well as of individuals, has its fixed course 
 and term. It springs forth, grows up, reaches its maturity, decays, 
 perishes. Only through Christianity has a nation ever risen again : 
 and it is solely on the operation of Christianity that we can ground 
 any thing like a reasonable hope of the Perfectibility of Mankind; 
 a hope that what has often been wrought in individuals, may also 
 in the fulness of time be wrought by the same power in the Race. 
 
 Jguman |letftctflbtltti>.— Awm. 
 
 TT may be regarded as one of those instances of irony so frequent 
 in History, that the moment chosen by Man to assert his Per- 
 fectibility should have been the very moment when all the powers 
 of Evil were about to be let loose, and to run riot over the Earth. 
 Happiness was the idol ; and lo ! the idol burst ; and the spectral 
 form of Misery rose out of it, and stretched out its gaunt hand 
 over the heads of the Nations; and millions of hearts shrank and 
 were frozen by its touch. Liberty was the watchword, Liberty 
 and Equality : and an iron despotism strode from north to south, 
 and from east to west; and all men cowered at its approach, and 
 crouched beneath its feet, and were trampled on, and found the 
 Equality they coveted in universal Prostration. Peace was the 
 promise; and the fulfilment was more than twenty years of fierce, 
 desolating War. 
 
 Jijuman progress. — Coiton. 
 
 A NALOGY, although it is not infallible, is yet that telescope of 
 the mind by which it is marvellously assisted in the discovery 
 of both physical and moral Truth. Analogy has much in store 
 fur Men ; but Babes require milk, and there may be intellectual 
 food which the present state of society is not fit to partake of; to 
 lay such before it, would be as absurd as to give a quadrant to 
 an Indian, or a loom to a Hottentot. 
 
 Jftumamtg. — From the French. 
 JpEW men are raised in our estimation by being too closely ex- 
 amined. 
 
 Jtyumanttg. — Steele. 
 A WEALTHY Doctor who can help a poor man, and will not 
 without a fee, has less sense of Humanity than a poor Ruffian, 
 who kills a rich man to supply his necessities. 
 
'234 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Jftumtlttj?. — St. Augustin. 
 r rHE sufficiency of my Merit is to know that my Merit is not 
 sufficient. 
 
 Ji^Umtlttg. —Fuller. 
 Search others for their Virtues, and thyself for thy Vices. 
 
 Jfrintttlttg. — Moore. 
 Humility, that low, sweet root 
 From which all heavenly Virtues shoot. 
 
 JgUtmlttl?. — Shakspeare. 
 JJE that commends me to my own Content, 
 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 
 I to the world am like a drop of water, 
 That in the Ocean seeks another drop ; 
 Who failing there to find his fellow forth, 
 Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself. 
 
 Jgttmtittg. — Selden. 
 JJUMILITY is a virtue all preach, none practise, and yet every 
 body is content to hear. The Master thinks it good doctrine 
 for his Servant, the Laity for the Clergy, and the Clergy for the 
 Laity. 
 
 JgUttUlttj). — Shakspeare. 
 Often to our comfort, shall we find 
 The sharded Beetle in a safer hold 
 Than is the full-wing'd Eagle. 
 
 J^UmOUr. — Anon. 
 I ET your Humour always be G-ood Humour, in both senses. 
 If it comes of a Bad Humour, it is pretty sure not to belie its 
 Parentage. 
 
 J^UtltOUC. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 There are more faults in the Humour than in the Mind. 
 
 J^UttlOU?* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THE Humours of the body have a stated and regular course, 
 which impels and imperceptibly guides our Will. They co- 
 operate with each other, and exercise successively a secret Empire 
 within us ; so that they have a considerable part in all our Actions 
 without our being able to know it. 
 
 <^00t> JgumOUr. — Sterne. 
 I LIVE in a constant endeavour to fence against the infirmities 
 of ill-health, and other evils of Life, by Mirth. I am persuaded 
 that every time a man smiles — but much more so when he laughs 
 — it adds something to this Fragment of life. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 235 
 
 J^UtttOUt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT may be said of men's Humours as of many buildings, that 
 they have divers Aspects, — some agreeable, others disagreeable. 
 
 (gOOt! JglWIOUt. — Steele. 
 T'HE portable quality of Good Humour seasons all the parts and 
 occurrences we meet with, in such a manner that there are no 
 moments lost : but they all pass with so much Satisfaction, that 
 the heaviest of loads, (when it is a load,) that of Time, is never 
 felt by us. 
 
 <&00fc tyUXtWUT.— Johnson. 
 f^AYETY is to G-ood Humour as animal perfumes to vegetable 
 fragrance. The one overpowers weak spirits, the other recre- 
 ates and revives them. Gayety seldom fails to give some pain ; 
 Good Humour boasts no faculties which every one does not believe 
 in his own Power, and pleases principally by not offending. 
 
 ^linger. — Byron. 
 That famish'd people must be slowly nurst, 
 And fed by Spoonfuls, else they always burst. 
 
 tyunQtt. — Pershis. 
 T'HE Belly is a master of arts and a bestower of Genius. Neces- 
 sity often draws forth Talent which had before lain dormant, 
 and unknown even to its possessor. 
 
 Jfturrp. — Cotton. 
 
 MO two things differ more than Hurry and Despatch. Hurry is 
 the mark of a weak mind, Despatch of a strong one. A weak 
 man in office, like a squirrel in a cage, is labouring eternally, but 
 to no purpose, and in constant motion without getting on a jot; 
 like a Turnstile, he is iu everybody's way, but stops nobody; he 
 talks a great deal, but says very little ; looks into every thing, but 
 sees into nothing ; and has a hundred Irons in the fire, but very 
 few of them are hot, and with those few that are he only burns his 
 Fingers. 
 
 Cl)e ffippocSontinaC — Seneca. 
 save, ye Gods omnipotent and kind, 
 From such abhorr'd Chimeras save the mind ! 
 
 QlVWCWV.— Fuller. 
 Trust not in him that seems a Saint. 
 
 ?^5P0CCtJ3p. — ShaJcspeare. 
 PTAST thou that holy feeling in thy Soul, 
 
 To counsel me to make my peace with God, 
 And art thou yet to thy own Soul so bljnd, 
 That thou wilt war with God ? 
 V 
 
236 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 S^pOCrtSp. — Young. 
 The world's all Title-page : there's no Contents ; 
 The world's all Face; the man who shows his Heart 
 Is whooted for his nudities, and scorn'd. 
 
 i^PpOCrisp. — Lavater. 
 "pVERY thing may be mimicked by Hypocrisy, but Humility and 
 Love united. The more rare the more radiant when they meet. 
 
 JftgpOCriSg. — Shakspeare. 
 AH ! cunning enemy, that, to catch a Saint, 
 
 With Saints dost bait thy hook ! Most dangerous 
 Is that Temptation, that doth goad us on 
 To sin in loving Virtue. 
 
 JggpOCrtSp. — Cotton. 
 TF the Devil ever laughs, it must be at Hypocrites : they are the 
 greatest dupes he has ; they serve him better than any others, 
 and receive no wages; nay, what is still more extraordinary, they 
 submit to greater Mortifications to go to Hell, than the sincerest 
 Christian to go to Heaven. 
 
 fepOCriSg. — Milton. 
 JYPOCRISY, the only evil that walks 
 Invisible, except to Glod alone, 
 By his permissive will, through Heaven and Earth, 
 And oft though Wisdom wakes, Suspicion sleeps 
 At Wisdom's gate, and to Simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while Goodness thinks no ill 
 Where no ill seems. 
 
 JftgpOCrtSJ). — Cotton. 
 'THERE is only one circumstance in which the upright man will 
 imitate the Hypocrite : I mean in his attempts to conciliate 
 the good opinion of his fellow-men. But here the similarity must 
 cease, for their respective motives are wider than the poles asunder; 
 the former will attempt this to increase his power of doing good, 
 the latter to augment his means of doing harm. 
 
 JggpOCriSg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 To beguile the Time, 
 Look like the Time ; bear welcome in your eyes, 
 Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower; 
 But be the Serpent under it. 
 
 J^gpOCriSg.— Addison. 
 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, 
 Or carry Smiles and Sunshine in my face, 
 When Discontent sits heavy at my heart. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 237 
 
 J^gpOCnSg. — Spenser. 
 THERETO when needed, she could weep and pray, 
 And when her listed she could fawne and flatter; 
 Now smyling smoothly, like to Sommer's day, 
 Now glooming sadly, so to cloke her matter : 
 Yet were her Words but wynd, and all her Tears but water. 
 
 JglJpOCriSp. — Peier Pindar. 
 HTO wear long faces, just as if our Maker, 
 
 The God of Goodness, was an undertaker, 
 "Well pleased to wrap the Soul's unlucky mien 
 In sorrow's dismal crape or bombasin. 
 
 J^PPOCrigp. — Shakspeare. 
 THE Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
 
 An evil soul, producing holy witness, 
 Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ; 
 A goodly Apple rotten at the Heart : 
 Oh, what a goodly outside Falsehood hath ! 
 
 JftPPOCrisp. —Joanna Baillie. 
 THINK'ST thou there are no Serpents in the world 
 
 But those who slide along the grassy sod, 
 And sting the luckless foot that presses them ? 
 There are who in the path of social life 
 Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun, 
 And sting the Soul — Ay, till its healthful frame 
 Is changed to secret, festering, sore Disease, 
 So deadly is the Wound. 
 
 JfiPPOCrtSJ). — Shakspeare. 
 "DUT then I sigh, and, with a piece of Scripture, 
 Tell them — that God bids us do good for evil : 
 And thus I clothe my naked villany 
 With old odd ends, stolen forth of Holy Writ ; 
 And seem a Saint, when most I play the Devil. 
 Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile : 
 And cry, Content, to that which grieves my heart; 
 And wet my cheeks with artificial Tears, 
 And frame my Face to all occasions. 
 
 J^gpOCriS}). — Shakspeare. 
 T)E not you spoke with, but by mighty suit : 
 
 And look you get a Prayer-Book in your hand, 
 And stand between two churchmen, good my Lord; 
 For on that ground I'll make a holy descant : 
 And be not easily won to our Bequests ; 
 Play the maid's part, — still answer Nay, and take it. 
 
238 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 i^PPOCttSp. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Q NATURE ! what hadst thou to do in Hell, 
 
 When thou did'st bower the spirit of a Fiend 
 In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ? — 
 Was ever Book, containing such vile matter, 
 So fairly bound ? Oh, that Deceit should dwell 
 In such a gorgeous palace ! 
 serpent heart ! hid with a flowering face ! 
 Did ever Dragon keep so fair a cave? 
 Beautiful tyrant ! Fiend angelical ! 
 Dove-feather' d raven ! Wolvish-ravening lamb ! 
 Despised substance of divinest show ! 
 Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st ! 
 
 H£>P0Crt!5g. — Milton. 
 UNDER fair pretence of friendly ends, 
 ' And well-placed words of glossy Courtesy, 
 Baited with reason not unplausible, 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 And hug him into Snares. 
 
 J^|)pOCrt!Sg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 He was a Man 
 Of an unbounded Stomach, ever ranking 
 Himself with Princes ; one that, by Suggestion, 
 Tied all the Kingdom : Simony was fair Play ; 
 His own Opinion was his Law : F the Presence, 
 He would say Untruths ; and be ever double, 
 Both in his Words and Meaning. He was never, 
 But where he meant to ruin, pitiful ; 
 His Promises were, as he then was, mighty; 
 But his Performance, as he is now, nothing. 
 
 JtoPOCnSjf). — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 To the common people, 
 How did he seem to dive into their hearts 
 With humble and familiar Courtesy; 
 What reverence he did throw away on slaves; 
 Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of Smiles, 
 And patient under-bearing of his fortune, 
 As 'twere to banish their Affects with him. 
 Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench ; 
 A brace of dray-men bid, God speed him well ! 
 And had the tribute of his supple Knee ; 
 W r ith, — Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 239 
 
 S^gpOCriSJ}. — Shakspeare. 
 THOUGH I do hate him as I do Hell pains, 
 
 Yet, for necessity of present lift, 
 I must show out a flag and sign of Love, 
 Which is indeed but Sign. 
 
 (Due Stoea.— Swift. 
 
 f^OMMON speakers have only one set of Ideas, and one set of 
 words to clothe them in ; and these are always ready at the 
 Mouth : so people come faster out of a Church when it is almost 
 empty, than when a crowd is at the Door. 
 
 (Dne Biea. — Swift. 
 
 THERE is a Brain that will endure but one scumming : let the 
 owner gather it with Discretion, and manage his little stock 
 with Husbandry ; but of all things let him beware of bringing it 
 under the lash of his betters. 
 
 (But Etiea, — Shakspeare. 
 TTE doth nothing but talk of his Horse ; and he makes it a great 
 appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him 
 himself. 
 
 £tl If nC8$. — Cowper. 
 Absence of Occupation is not rest, 
 A mind quite vacant is a mind distress'd. 
 
 Stolen***. — Spenser. 
 
 "PROM worldly Cares himself he did esloyne, 
 
 And greatly shunned manly exercise ; 
 From everie worke he chalenged essoyne, 
 
 For Contemplation sake : yet otherwise, 
 
 His life he led in lawlesse riotise, 
 By which he grew to grievous malady ; 
 
 For in his lustesse limbs through evil guise, 
 A shaking fever raign'd continually : 
 Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 
 
 EtllenCSS. — Young. 
 T EISURE is pain; takes off our chariot wheels; 
 
 How heavily we drag the load of Life ! 
 Blest Leisure is our curse ; like that of Cain, 
 It makes us wander ; wander earth around 
 To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan'd 
 The World beneath, we groan beneath an Hour. 
 
 $t! Itttem— From the Latin. 
 J£VIL thoughts intrude in an unemployed Mind, as naturally aa 
 Worms are generated in a stagnant pool. 
 v2 
 
240 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ifcknCSS.— Burton. 
 JDLENESS is the badge of Gentry, the bane of body and mind, 
 the nurse of Naughtiness, the step-mother of Discipline, the 
 chief author of all Mischief, one of the seven deadly sins, the 
 cushioD upon which the Devil chiefly reposes, and a great cause 
 not only of Melancholy, but of many other diseases : for the mind 
 is naturally active ; and if it be not occupied about some honest 
 business, it rushes into Mischief, or sinks into Melancholy. 
 
 ItllenCSS.— Franklin. 
 TT would be thought a hard government that should tax its people 
 one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service; but 
 Idleness taxes many of us much more; sloth, by bringing on 
 diseases, absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster 
 than labour wears; while the used key is always bright. Dost 
 thou love life, then do not squander time, for that is the stuff" life 
 is made of. How much more than is necessary do we spend in 
 sleep, forgetting that the sleeping fox catches no poultry, and 
 there will be sleeping enough in the grave ! 
 
 Ignorance. — Coiton. 
 
 TT is with Nations as with individuals, those who know the least 
 of others think the highest of themselves ; for the whole family 
 of Pride and Ignorance are incestuous, and mutually beget each 
 other. 
 
 Egnotance. — Seneca. 
 COME men, like Pictures, are fitter for a Corner than a full 
 light. r 
 
 $UnC0£i. — Shakspeare. 
 May be he is not well : 
 Infirmity doth still neglect all office, 
 Whereto our Health is bound ; we're not ourselves, 
 When Nature, being oppress' d, commands the Mind 
 To suffer with the Body. 
 
 IllneS0. — Colton. 
 COME persons will tell you, with an air of the miraculous, that 
 they recovered although they were given over; whereas they 
 might with more Reason have said, they recovered because they 
 were given over. 
 
 IllUStOn. — Shakspeare. 
 Some there be, that Shadows kiss ; 
 Such have but a shadow's bliss. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 241 
 
 £i)e image Of I)tS jFZttyX. — Shdkspeare. 
 
 Behold, my Lords, 
 Although the print be little, the whole matter 
 And Copy of the Father : Eye, Nose, Lip, 
 The trick of his Frown, his Forehead ; nay, the valley, 
 The pretty dimples of his Chin, and Cheek ; his Smiles ! 
 The very mould and frame of Hand, Nail, Finger. 
 
 imagination, — Burton. 
 
 A CONTENTED citizen of Milan, who had never passed beyond 
 its walls during the course of sixty years, being ordered by the 
 Governor not to stir beyond its gates, became immediately mise- 
 rable, and felt so powerful an inclination to do that which he had 
 so long contentedly neglected, that, on his application for a release 
 from this restraint beiDg refused, he became quite melancholy, and 
 at last died of Grief. The pains of imprisonment also, like those 
 of servitude, are more in conception than in reality. We are all 
 prisoners. What is Life, but the prison of the Soul ? 
 
 imagination, — Shakspeare. 
 
 'THE lunatic, the lover, and the poet, 
 
 Are of Imagination all compact : 
 One sees more devils than vast Hell can hold ; 
 The madman. While the lover, all as frantic, 
 Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. 
 The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
 Doth glance from Heaven to Earth, from Earth to Heaven; 
 And as Imagination bodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
 Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing 
 A local habitation and a name. 
 Such tricks hath strong Imagination, 
 That if he would but apprehend some joy, 
 It comprehends some bringer of that joy ; 
 Or in the night imagining some fear, 
 How easy is a Bush supposed a Bear ? 
 
 imagination. — Skdkspeare. 
 
 "T)ANGEROUS Conceits are, in their natures, poisons, 
 
 Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste ; 
 But, with a little act upon the Blood, 
 Burn like the mines of sulphur. 
 
 imagination. — Rogers. 
 
 F)0 what he will, he cannot realize 
 
 Half he conceives — the glorious Vision flies. 
 Go where he may, he cannot hope to find 
 The Truth, the Beauty pictured in his mind. 
 
242 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Imitation.— Coiton. 
 
 Imitation is the sincerest of Flattery. 
 
 Imitation. — Coiton. 
 
 THE secret of some men's Attractions might be safely told to all 
 the world, for under any other management but that of the 
 possessor, they would cease to attract. Those who attempted to 
 imitate them, would find that they had got the Fiddle, but not the 
 Fiddle-stick. 
 
 ImttattOtt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 TT is certain that either wise bearing, or ignorant carriage, is 
 caught, as men take Diseases, one of another : therefore, let 
 men take heed of their Company. 
 
 Imitation. — Lavater. 
 TTE who is always in want of something cannot be very rich. 
 'Tis a poor wit who lives by borrowing the Words, decisions, 
 mien, inventions, and Actions of others. 
 
 Imitation. — Greviiu. 
 
 T HARDLY know so true a mark of a little Mind, as the servile 
 Imitation of others. 
 
 Immortality. — Young, 
 Still seems it strange that thou shouldst live for ever ? 
 Is it less strange that thou shouldst live at all ? 
 This is a Miracle; and that no more. 
 
 ImmortalitP. — Young. 
 
 Can it be ? 
 
 Matter immortal ? and shall Spirit die ? 
 Above the nobler, shall less noble rise ? 
 Shall Man alone, for whom all else revives, 
 No Resurrection know ? shall Man alone, 
 Imperial Man ! be sown in barren ground, 
 Less privileged than grain, on which he feeds ? 
 
 Impertinence. — Lavater. 
 "DECEIVE no satisfaction for premeditated Impertinence; forget 
 it, forgive it, but keep him inexorably at a distance who 
 offered it. 
 
 Pegging Impostors. — Ben Jonson. 
 
 'THERE is no bounty to be show'd to such 
 
 As have no real Goodness : Bounty is 
 A spice of Virtue : and what virtuous act 
 Can take effect on them that have no power 
 Of equal habitude to apprehend it ? 
 
OR, TI1IXGS XEW AND OLD. 243 
 
 Improvement. — Coiton. 
 
 "\TTHERE we cannot invent, we may at least improve ; we may 
 give somewhat of Novelty to that which was old, Condensa- 
 tion to that which was diffuse, Perspicuity to that which was obscure, 
 and Currency to that which was recondite. 
 
 Impulse — Hare. 
 CINCE the generality of persons act from Impulse much more 
 than from Principle, men are neither so good nor so bad as we 
 are apt to think them. 
 
 Impulses. — Cooler. 
 A TRUE history of human events would show that a far larger 
 proportion of our acts are the results of sudden Impulses and 
 accident, than of that reason of which we so much boast. 
 
 InCOTiStStenrj). — Anon. 
 A MONG the numberless Contradictions in our nature, hardly any 
 is more glaring than this, between our sensitiveness to the 
 slightest Disgrace which we fancy cast upon us from without, and 
 our callousness to the Filth within ourselves. In truth, they who 
 are the most sensitive to the one are often the most callous to the 
 other. 
 
 Independence. — Smoiktt. 
 
 T'HY spirit, Independence, let me share ! 
 
 Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye, 
 Thy steps I follow with my bosom bare, 
 Nor heed the storm that howls along the sky. 
 Deep in the frozen regions of the north, 
 A goddess violated brought thee forth, 
 Immortal Liberty, whose look sublime, 
 Hath bleach'd the Tyrant's cheek in every varying clime. 
 
 Independence. — Erinzelmai*. 
 
 T>E and continue poor, young man, while others around you 
 grow rich by fraud and disloyalty ; be without place or Power, 
 while others beg their way upward; bear the pain of disappointed 
 Hopes, while others gain the accomplishment of theirs by flattery; 
 forego the gracious pressure of the hand for which others cringe 
 and crawl. Wrap yourself in your own Virtue, and seek a Friend 
 and your daily bread. If you have in such a course grown gray 
 with unblenched Honour, bless God, and die. 
 
 Independence.— Anon. 
 
 'THE King is the least independent man in his dominions, — the 
 Beggar the most so. 
 
244 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 independence. — Cowper. 
 
 T PRAISE you much, ye meek and patient pair 
 
 For ye are worthy j choosing rather for 
 A dry but independent Crust, hard-earn' d 
 And eaten with a sigh, than to endure 
 The rugged frowns and insolent rebuffs 
 Of Knaves in office. 
 
 3mfitan Character. — Cooper. 
 
 "pEW men exhibit greater diversity, or, if we may so express it, 
 greater antithesis of character, than the native warrior of North 
 America. In war, he is daring, boastful, cunning, ruthless, self- 
 denying, and self-devoted ; in peace, just, generous, hospitable, 
 revengeful, superstitious, modest, and commonly chaste. These 
 are qualities, it is true, which do not distinguish all alike; but 
 they are so far the predominating traits of these remarkable people 
 as to be characteristic. 
 
 EntecrettOn. — La Bruyere. 
 HPHE generality of men expend the early part of their lives in 
 contributing to render the latter part miserable. 
 
 Cf)e MltSCrcet. — Addison. 
 A N Indiscreet Man is more hurtful than an ill-natured one ; for 
 as the latter will only attack his Enemies, and those he wishes 
 ill to; the other injures indifferently both Friends and Foes. 
 
 3mfotbrtJUaltt£. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 TN the very lowest link in the vast and mysterious chain of Being, 
 there is an effort, although scarcely apparent, at Individualiza- 
 tion ; but it is almost lost in the mere Nature. A little higher up, 
 the Individual is apparent and separate, but subordinate to any 
 thing in Man. At length, the animal rises to be on a par with the 
 lowest power of the human nature. There are some of our natural 
 desires which only remain in our most perfect state on Earth as 
 means of the higher powers acting. 
 
 $ntJUJ3tl*£* — Franklin. 
 'THE way to "Wealth is as plain as the way to Market. It 
 depends chiefly on two words, Industry and Frugality : that is, 
 waste neither Time nor Money, but make the best use of both. 
 Without Industry and Frugality nothing will do, and with them 
 every thing. 
 
 $ntetr;i). — Franklin. 
 CLOTH makes all things difficult, but Industry all easy ; and he 
 that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his 
 business at night : while Laziness travels so slowly, that Poverty 
 soon overtakes him. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 245 
 
 $ntiustrg» — Cotton. 
 
 TTE that from small beginnings has deservedly raised himself to 
 the highest Stations, may not always find that full satisfaction 
 in the possession of his object, that he anticipated in the pursuit of 
 it. But although the individual may be disappointed, the Com- 
 munity are benefited, first by his exertions, and secondly, by his 
 example ; for, it has been well observed, that the Public are served 
 not by what the Lord Mayor feels who rides in his coach, but by 
 what the Apprentice Boy feels who looks at him. 
 
 \X&V&\XQ. — Franklin. 
 TNDUSTRY need not wish, and he that lives upon hopes will die 
 fasting. There are no gains without pains; then help, hands, 
 for I have no lands; or, if I have, they are smartly taxed. He that 
 hath a trade hath an estate, and he that hath a calling, hath an 
 office of profit and honour; but then the trade must be worked 
 at. and the calling followed, or neither the estate nor the office 
 will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious, we shall 
 never starve; for, at the working-man's house hunger looks in, but 
 dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff or the constable enter, for 
 Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them. 
 
 Intbxittv. — Prior. 
 
 T DRANK ; I liked it not, 'twas rage, 'twas noise, 
 
 An airy scene of transitory joys. 
 In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl 
 Would banish Sorrow, and enlarge the Soul. 
 To the late revel, and protracted feast, 
 Wild Dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest. 
 
 $neXpertettCC. — Shakspeare. 
 THE untainted Virtue of your years 
 
 Hath not yet dived into the World's deceit : 
 Nor more can you distinguish of a man 
 Than of his outward show, which, G-od he knows, 
 Seldom or never jumpeth with the Heart. 
 
 inexperience*— Anon. 
 
 THOUSANDS of the brave, the gifted and the beautiful, have 
 waked from dreams of juvenile Idolatry, amid the cold realities 
 of every-day life, and loathed the long remnant of a scarce bud- 
 ding existence, for the rash vows of its opening dawn. The world 
 is peopled with such mourners, and if in time the cloak of Indif- 
 ference, or the mantle of Resignation, or the pall of Despair, 
 shroud it from the world's unfeeling gaze, the broken heart is not 
 the less surely there. 
 
246 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 EnfcrttOtt. — ShaJcspeare. 
 How oft the sight of Means to do ill Deeds, 
 Makes Deeds ill done ! 
 
 EnftMttp. — ShaJcspeare. 
 She's gone ; I am abused ; and my relief 
 Must be — to loathe her. 
 
 Eltftfcelttl). — Shdkspeare. 
 Such an act, 
 That blurs the grace and blush of Modesty : 
 Calls Virtue, Hypocrite : takes off the rose 
 From the fair forehead of an innocent love, 
 And sets a blister there : makes marriage vows 
 As false as dicers' oaths ; Oh, such a deed, 
 As from the body of Contraction plucks 
 The very soul ; and sweet Religion, makes 
 A rhapsody of words. 
 
 InffiitUt$.— Moore. 
 
 OH ! colder than the Wind that freezes 
 Founts that but now in sunshine play'd, 
 
 Is that congealing Pang which seizes 
 The trusting bosom when betray'd. 
 
 JrtfiMttg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Oh, she is fallen 
 Into a pit of Ink ! that the wide Sea 
 Hath drops too few to wash her clean again ; 
 And Salt too little, which may season give 
 To her foul tainted flesh ! 
 
 EttfiMttg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 thou Weed, 
 Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet, 
 That the sense aches at thee, — Would, thou had'st ne'er 
 been born ! 
 
 InfiMttj). — ShaJcspeare. 
 HTHIS was your Husband. — Look you now, what follows 
 
 Here is your Husband; like a mildew'd ear, 
 Blasting his wholesome Brother. Have you eyes ? 
 Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, 
 And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? 
 You cannot call it, Love : for, at your age, 
 The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, 
 And waits upon the Judgment; And what judgment 
 Would step from this, to this ? 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 247 
 
 Enfr&Clttp. — Shakspeare. 
 I should make very forges of my cheeks, 
 That would to cinders burn up Modesty, 
 Did I but speak thy Deeds. 
 
 i&ofcie intimity.— Young. 
 
 COME, when they die, die all : their mould'ring clay 
 
 Is but an Emblem of their Memories; 
 The space quite closes up thro' which they pass'd : 
 That I have lived, I leave a mark behind, 
 Shall pluck the shining age from vulgar time, 
 And give it whole to late Posterity. 
 
 JttgratttUtie. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Then burst his mighty Heart : 
 And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 
 Even at the base of Pompey's statue, 
 Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. 
 
 IttgratttUtJe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 She hath tied 
 Sharp-tooth'd Unkindness, like a vulture. 
 
 ingtatttUtie. — Shakspeare. 
 TNGKATITUDE is monstrous ; and for the Multitude to be in- 
 grateful, were to make a Monster of the Multitude. 
 
 ingratitude. — Shakspeare. 
 'TIME hath a wallet at his back 
 
 Wherein he puts alms for Oblivion, 
 A great-sized monster of Ingratitudes ; - 
 Those scraps are good deeds past ; which are devour' d 
 As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
 As done. 
 
 ingratitude. — Shakspeare. 
 J>LOW, blow, thou Winter Wind, 
 Thou art not so unkind 
 As man's Ingratitude; 
 Thy tooth is not so keen, 
 Because thou art not seen, 
 Although thy breath be rude. 
 
 ingratitude. — Anon. 
 
 T'HOUGrH Ingratitude is too frequent in the most of those who 
 are obliged, yet Encouragement will work on generous minds ; 
 and if the experiment be lost on thousands, yet it never fails on 
 all; and one virtuous man in a whole nation is worth the buying, 
 as one Diamond is worth the search in a heap of rubbish. 
 
 W 
 
248 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iltgratttUtie. — Shahspeare. 
 T HATE Ingratitude more in a man, 
 
 Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, 
 Or any taint of Vice, whose strong corruption 
 Inhabits our frail Blood. 
 
 ingratitude.— ButUr. 
 
 r rHAT he alone is ungrateful, who makes returns of Obligations, 
 because he does it merely to free himself from owing so much 
 as Thanks. 
 
 ingratitude. — From the Italian. 
 THE animal with long ears, after having drunk, gives a kick to 
 the bucket. 
 
 ingratttutre. — Ausonius. 
 
 "^OTHING more detestable does the Earth produce than an Un- 
 grateful Man. 
 
 ingratitude. —La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\TE seldom find people ungrateful as long as we are in a condition 
 to render them Services. 
 
 ingratitude. — Shahspeare. 
 
 'Tis a common proof, 
 That lowliness is young Ambition's ladder, 
 Whereto the climber upward turns his face ; 
 But when he once attains the upmost round, 
 He then unto the Ladder turns his back, 
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
 By which he did ascend. 
 
 ingratitude. — Shahspeare. 
 Ingratitude ! thou marble-hearted Fiend, 
 More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child, 
 Than the Sea Monster. 
 
 ingratitude.— From the Latin. 
 TF you say he is Ungrateful, you can impute to him no more de- 
 testable act. 
 
 ingratitude. —PuWus Syrius. 
 
 QNE Ungrateful Man does an Injury to all who stand in need of 
 aid. 
 
 injuries.— Diogenes. 
 No man is hurt but by himself. 
 
 injuries. — Fuller. 
 Slight small Injuries, and they'll become none at all. 
 
 JJ 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 249 
 
 Injuries — Za Rochefoucauld. 
 
 A TEN are not only prone to lose the Remembrance of Benefits 
 and of Injuries; they even hate those who have obliged them, 
 and cease to hate those who have grievously injured them. The 
 constant study to recompense Good and avenge Evil appears to 
 them a slavery, to which they feel it difficult to submit. 
 
 Self 'Enjur P. —Johnson. 
 A MAN should be careful never to tell tales of himself to his own 
 Disadvantage : people may be amused, and laugh at the time, 
 but they will be remembered, and brought up against him upon 
 some subsequent occasion. 
 
 irctf'lttjurp. — Shakspeare. 
 What Things are we ! 
 Merely our own Traitors. And as in the common course of all 
 treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to 
 their abhorred ends; so he, that contrives against his own Nobility, 
 in his proper Stream o'erflows himself. 
 
 Irmor mce. — From (he French. 
 Innocence and Mysteriousness never dwell long together. 
 
 imifittntt.— Novate. 
 
 TNNOCENCE and Ignorance are sisters. But there are noble 
 and vulgar sisters. Vulgar Innocence and Ignorance are mortal, 
 they have pretty faces, but wholly without expression, and of a 
 transient Beauty ; the noble sisters are immortal, their lofty forms 
 are unchangeable, and their countenances are still radiant with the 
 light of Paradise. They dwell in Heaven, and visit only the noblest 
 and most severely tried of Mankind. 
 
 Ennomt re. — Horace. 
 True, conscious Honour, is to feel no sin ; 
 He's arm'd without that's innocent within : 
 Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass. 
 
 innocence. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Thou shalt not see me blush, 
 Nor change my Countenance for this arrest; 
 A Heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 
 The purest spring is not so free from mud, 
 As I am clear from Treason. 
 
 Innocence.— Mnton. 
 
 CO dear to Heaven is saintly Chastity, 
 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 A thousand liveried angels lacquey her, 
 Driving far off each thing of Sin and Gruilt. 
 
25U ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 innocence. — Shakspeare. 
 For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on Evil; 
 Birds never limed no secret Bushes fear. 
 
 teanttp. — Shakspeare. 
 T'HERE is a willow grows ascaunt the brook, 
 
 That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; 
 Therewith fantastic Garlands did she make 
 Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, 
 That liberal Shepherds give a grosser name, 
 But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them : 
 There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds 
 Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; 
 When down her weedy trophies, and herself, 
 Fell in the weeping Brook. Her clothes spread wide; 
 And, Mermaid-like, a while they bore her up : 
 Which time, she chanted snatches of old tunes; 
 As one incapable of her own Distress, 
 Or like a creature native and indued 
 Unto that element: but long it could not be, 
 Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, 
 Pulled the poor Wretch from her melodious lay 
 To muddy Death. 
 
 $nsanttj>, — Shakspeare.^ 
 Oh, what a noble Mind is here o'erthrown ! 
 The Courtier's, Soldier's, Scholar's, eye, tongue, sword 1 
 Th' expectaucy and rose of the fair State, 
 The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, 
 Th' observed of all observers, quite, quite down ! 
 I am of ladies most deject and wretched, 
 That suck'd the honey of his music vows : 
 Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, 
 Like sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh; 
 That unmatch'd form, and feature of blown youth, 
 Blasted with ecstasy. 
 
 Insanity — Shakspeare. 
 He was met even now 
 As mad as the vex'd Sea: singing aloud ! 
 Crown'd with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds, 
 With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, 
 Darnel, and all the idle weeds, that grow 
 In our sustaining Corn. 
 
07?, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 251 
 
 SelMnSpcCttOn. — Skakspeare. 
 'THY Glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, 
 
 Thy Dial how thy precious minutes waste; 
 The vacant Leaves thy mind's imprint will bear, 
 
 And of this Book this learning niay'st thou taste. 
 The wrinkles which thy Glass will truly show, 
 
 Of mouthed graves will give thee memory ; 
 Thou by thy Dial's shady stealth may'st know 
 
 Time's thievish progress to Eternity. 
 Look, what thy memory cannot contain, 
 
 Commit to these waste Blanks, and thou shalt find 
 Those children nursed, deliver'd from thy brain, 
 
 To take a new acquaintance of thy mind. 
 These offices, so oft as thou wilt look, 
 Shall profit thee, and much enrich thy Book. 
 
 $n0pttatt'OtL — SJiakspeare. 
 OUR poesy is as a Gum, which oozes 
 
 From whence 'tis nourish'd : The fire i' the flint 
 Shows not till it be struck ; our gentle Flame 
 Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies 
 Each bound it chafes. 
 
 JfrtSpttattOn. — Greville. 
 A LIVELY and agreeable man has not only the merit of Live- 
 liness and Agreeableness himself, but that also of awakening 
 them in others. 
 
 IltSUltS. — CoJton. 
 TNJURIES accompanied with Insults are never forgiven : all 
 men, on these occasions, are good haters, and lay out their Re- 
 venge at compound interest. 
 
 intellect. — La Bruyere. 
 TT is a proof of Mediocrity of Intellect to be addicted to relating 
 stories. 
 
 Intellect. — Coiton. 
 
 TIMES of general Calamity and Confusion have ever been pro- 
 ductive of the greatest Minds. The purest ore is produced 
 from the hottest Furnace, and the brightest thunderbolt is elicited 
 from the darkest Storm. 
 
 3fcalOU0£. — Byron. 
 ITER maids were old, and if she took a new one, 
 You might be sure she was a perfect fright : 
 She did this during even her Husband's life — 
 I recommend as much to every Wife. 
 w2 
 
252 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SJcalOUSg. —Hannah More. 
 
 Jealousy, 
 Tliou ugliest Fiend of Hell ! thy deadly venom 
 Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue 
 Of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, 
 And drinks my Spirit up ! 
 
 gf ealOUSp. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, beware of Jealousy; 
 It is the green-eyed Monster, which doth mock 
 The meat it feeds on. 
 
 gfcalOUgg. — Shakspeare. 
 T'HESE are the forgeries of Jealousy : 
 
 And never, since the middle summer's spring, 
 Met we on hill, in dales, forest, or mead, 
 By paved fountain, or by rushy brook, 
 Or on the beached margent of the Sea, 
 To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, 
 But with thy Brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport. 
 
 gealOUSg, — Mrs. Tighe. 
 'THAT anxious torture may I never feel, 
 
 Which doubtful, watches o'er a wandering heart. 
 Oh ! who that bitter Torment can reveal, 
 
 Or tell the pining anguish of that Smart ! 
 
 In those affections may I ne'er have part, 
 Which easily transferr'd can learn to rove : 
 
 No, dearest Cupid ! when I feel thy dart, 
 For thy sweet Psyche's sake may no false Love, 
 The tenderness I prize lightly from me remove ! 
 
 %j ealOUSg. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, how hast thou with Jealousy infected 
 The Sweetness of affiance ! 
 
 3JealOU0g. — Thomson. 
 
 But through the heart 
 Should Jealousy its venom once diffuse, 
 'Tis then delightful Misery no more, 
 But Agony unniix'd, incessant gall, 
 Corroding every thought, and blasting all 
 Love's Paradise. Ye fairy prospects then, 
 Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, 
 Farewell ! ye gleamings of departed peace, 
 Shine out your last ! the yellow tinging Plague 
 Internal vision taints, and in a night 
 Of vivid gloom Imagination wraps. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 253 
 
 glealOUSJ). — Shakspeare. 
 
 I never gave him cause. 
 But jealous souls will not be answer'd so; 
 They are not ever jealous for the Cause, 
 But jealous, for they are jealous : 'tis a Monster, 
 Begot upon itself, born on itself. 
 
 0ealOUS J). — Spenser. 
 
 ~^E ever is he wont on ought to feed 
 
 But todes and frogs (his pasture poysonous) 
 Which in his cold Complexion doe breed 
 
 A filthy blood, or humor rancorous, 
 
 Matter of Doubt and dread suspitious, 
 That doth with cureless care consume the Hart, 
 
 Corrupts the stomacke with gall vitious, 
 Cross-cuts the liver with eternall Smart, 
 And doth transfixe the soule with Death's eternall dart. 
 
 ScaiCUS}?. — Shakspeare. 
 Trifles, light as air, 
 Are, to the Jealous, Confirmations strong 
 As proofs of Holy Writ. 
 
 3kalOUSp. — Tacitus. 
 TTE who is next heir to supreme Power, is always suspected and 
 hated by him who actually wields it. 
 
 gJealOU0g. — Spenser. 
 
 VET is there one more cursed than they all, 
 
 That Canker-worm, that Monster, Jealousie, 
 Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, 
 
 Turning all Love's delight to misery, 
 
 Through fear of losing his felicity. 
 Ah, Gods ! that ever ye that Monster placed 
 In gentle love, that all his joys defaced ! 
 
 ^eaiOUgn. — Sir Thomas Overbury. 
 A jealous Man sleeps dog sleep. 
 
 ;?|eal0U!5P. — Spenser. 
 "POWLE Jealousie ! that turnest love divine 
 
 To joyless dread, and mak'st the loving Hart 
 With hatefull thoughts to languish and to pine, 
 And feed itselfe with selfe-consuming Smart : 
 Of all the Passions in the mind thou vilest art. 
 Cije Sestet.— Horace. 
 Yonder he drives — avoid that furious beast : 
 If he may have his Jest, he never cares 
 At whose expense ; nor Friend nor patron spares. 
 
254 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %ft8tiVLQ.— Fuller. 
 HTAKE heed of Jesting : many have been ruined by it. It's hard 
 to Jest, and not sometimes jeer too; which oftentimes sinks 
 deeper than was intended, or expected. 
 
 gating. — Sheridan. 
 
 'TO smile at the Jest which plants a Thorn in another's breast, 
 is to become a principal in the Mischief. 
 
 ^Ofttng. — La Brut/ere. 
 JtfEVER risk a Joke, even the least offensive in its nature and 
 the most common, with a person who is not well bred, and 
 possessed of sense to comprehend it. 
 
 3f0g, — Shakspeare. 
 Joy had the like conception in our eyes, 
 And, at that instant, like a Babe sprung up. 
 
 3Sf Cg. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHE night of Sorrow now is turn'd to day : 
 
 Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth, 
 Like the fair Sun, when in his fresh array 
 He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth: 
 And as the bright Sun glorifies the sky, 
 So is her face illumined with her Eye. 
 
 ^fOJ). — SJiakspeare. 
 You have bereft me of all words, 
 Only my Blood speaks to you in my veins ; 
 And there is such confusion in my powers, 
 As, after some oration fairly spoke 
 By a beloved Prince, there doth appear 
 Among the buzzing pleased Multitude ; 
 Where every something, being blent together, 
 Turns to a wild of nothing, save of Joy 
 Exprest, and not exprest. 
 
 §0 g. —Dry den. 
 My heart's so full of Joy, 
 That I shall do some wild extravagance 
 Of Love in public ; and the foolish world, 
 Which knows not Tenderness, will think me mad. 
 
 ^fOJ). — SJiakspeare. 
 (^J.IVE me a gash, put me to present Pain ; 
 
 Lest this great sea of Joys rushing upon me, 
 O'erbear the shores of my Mortality, 
 And drown me with their Sweetness 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 255 
 
 ^Op. — Shahspeare. 
 I HAVE felt so many quirks of Joy, and Grief, 
 That the first face of neither, on the start. 
 Can woman me unto 't. 
 
 3f0g. — Young. _ 
 "MATURE, in zeal for human amity, 
 
 Denies, or damps, an undivided Joy. 
 Joy is an import ; Joy is an exchange ; 
 Joy flies monopolists : it calls for two ; 
 Rich Fruit ! Heaven planted ! never pluek'd by one. 
 
 3Tf)e $Vti%Z.— Peter Pindar. 
 "VyHEN Judges a campaigning go, 
 
 And on their benches look so big, 
 What gives them consequence, I trow, 
 Is nothing but a Bushel Wig. 
 
 gjutigmg (Dtijers. — Greviiie. 
 
 TJE that sees ever so accurately, ever so finely into the motives 
 of other people's Acting, may possibly be entirely ignorant as 
 to his own : it is by the mental as the corporeal Eye, the object 
 may be placed too near the Sight to be seen truly, as well as so 
 far off; nay, too near to be seen at all. 
 
 glOigmcnt. — Shahspeare. 
 
 What we oft do best 
 By sick Interpreters, once weak ones, is 
 Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, 
 Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 
 For our best Act. 
 
 glrtigmetTt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TyE are mistaken in supposing that Intellect and Judgment are 
 two different things. Judgment is merely the Greatness of 
 the Light of the Mind j this Light penetrates into the recesses of 
 things; it observes there every thing remarkable, and perceives 
 what appears to be imperceptible. Thus it must be allowed that 
 it is the Greatness of the Light of the Mind which produces all 
 the effects attributed to Judgment. 
 
 jjjtotopient.— Svoift, 
 
 TNVENTION is the talent of youth, and Judgment of age : so 
 that our Judgment grows harder to please, when we have fewer 
 things to offer it : this goes through the whole commerce of Life. 
 When we are old, our friends find it difficult to please us, and are 
 less concerned whether we be pleased or not. 
 
256 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 gjfugtmmtt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Men's Judgments are 
 A parcel of their Fortunes ; and things outward 
 Do draw the inward Quality after them, 
 To suffer all alike. 
 
 $ UtJgmettt. — Steele. 
 'THE most necessary talent in a man of Conversation, which is 
 what we ordinarily intend by a Gentleman, is a good Judgment. 
 He that has this in perfection is master of his Companion, without 
 letting him see it ; and has the same advantage over men of any 
 other qualifications whatsoever, as one that can see would have 
 over a blind man of ten times his strength. 
 
 gfurtSprutJence. — Webster. 
 JUSTICE is the great interest of man on earth. It is the ligament 
 which holds civilized beings and civilized nations together. 
 Wherever her temple stands, and so long as it is duly honoured, 
 there is a foundation for social security, general happiness, and the 
 improvement and progress of our race. And whoever labours on 
 this edifice with usefulness and distinction, whoever clears its founda- 
 tions, strengthens its pillars, adorns its entablatures, or contributes 
 to raise its august dome still higher in the skies, connects himself, 
 in name, and fame, and character, with that which is and must be 
 as durable as the frame of human society. 
 
 gtettCe. — Cotton. 
 I~F strict Justice be not the rudder of all our other Virtues, the 
 faster we sail, the farther we shall find ourselves from " that 
 Haven where we would be." 
 
 ^USttCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 JUSTICE is in general only a lively apprehension of being de- 
 prived of what belongs to us ; hence arise our great considera- 
 tion and respect for all the interests of our Neighbour, and our 
 scrupulous care to avoid doing him an injury. This fear retains 
 men within the limits of those advantages which Birth or Fortune 
 has given them ; and, without it, they would be making continual 
 Inroads upon others. 
 
 gUgttCe* — Cotton. 
 /^JARNEADES, whom Cicero so much dreaded, maintained that 
 there was no such thing as Justice! and he supported his 
 theory by such Sophisms as these : that the condition of men is 
 such that if they have a mind to be just, they must act impru- 
 dently ; and that if they have a mind to act prudently, they must 
 be unjust; and that, it follows, there can be no such thing as 
 Justice, because a Virtue inseparable from a Folly cannot be just 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 257 
 
 Lactautius is correct when he affirms that the heathens could not 
 answer this Sophism, and that Cicero dared not undertake it. The 
 error was this, the restricting of the value of Justice to temporal 
 things : for to those who disbelieve a future state, or even have 
 doubts about it, "Honesty is not always the best policy;" and it 
 is reserved for Christians, who take into their consideration the 
 whole existence of man, to argue clearly and consequentially on 
 the sterling value of Justice. It is well known that Hume him- 
 self was never so much puzzled as when peremptorily asked, by a 
 lady at Bath, to declare, upon his Honour as a Gentleman, whether 
 he would choose his own confidential domestics from such as held 
 his own principles, or from those who conscientiously believed the 
 eternal truths of Revelation. He frankly decided in favour of the 
 latter ! 
 
 gfUSttCe. — Shakspeare. 
 Poise the cause in Justice' equal scales, 
 Whose Beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. 
 
 gusttce arils Becencg. — Cicero. 
 
 JUSTICE consists in doing no injury to men; Decency, in giv- 
 ing them no offence. 
 
 WUrilmtMS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 You are liberal in offers : 
 You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks, 
 You teach me how a Beggar should be answer'd. 
 
 l&trttmeSS. — Joanna Baillie. 
 A willing Heart adds feather to the heel, 
 And makes the clown a winged Mercury. 
 
 Cj)e iAt1l0. — Shakspeare. 
 There is such divinity doth hedge a King, 
 That Treason can but peep to what it would, 
 Acts little of his will. 
 
 Cf)e UitlQ. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Majesty ! 
 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit 
 Like a rich Armour worn in heat of day, 
 That scalds with Safety. 
 
 lAitotoletise of ti)e &2£orttJ. — Coiton. 
 
 j-TE that knows a little of the World, will admire it enough to 
 fall down and worship it : but he that knows it most, will 
 most despise it. 
 
 Superficial I£notoletJge. — Fuller. 
 
 He that sips of many Arts, drinks of none. 
 
258 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Spiritual IftNOtoletjge* — Bishop Sprat. 
 ,r J^IS- the property of all true Knowledge, especially spiritual, to 
 enlarge the Soul by filling it j to enlarge it without swelling 
 it; to make it more capable, and more earnest to know, the more 
 it knows. 
 
 Selfsltnotoletoge. — Coiton. 
 
 ]yjAN, if he compare himself with all that he can see, is at the 
 Zenith of Power ; but if he compare himself with all that he 
 can conceive, he is at the Nadir of Weakness. 
 
 Subtle IftttOtoletJge. —Joanna Baillie. 
 Deep subtle wits, 
 In truth, are master-spirits in the world. 
 The brave man's Courage, and the student's Lore, 
 Are but as tools his secret ends to work, 
 Who hath the Skill to use them. 
 
 l&notoletrge* — Coiton. 
 
 'JHAT is indeed a twofold Knowledge, which profits alike by the 
 Folly of the foolish, and the Wisdom of the wise. It is both a 
 shield and a sword ; it borrows its Security from the darkness, and 
 its confidence from the light. 
 
 l&ttotolefcge. — Cowper. 
 
 J^NOWLEDGE and Wisdom, far from 'being one, 
 
 Have ofttimes no connexion. Knowledge dwells 
 In heads replete with Thoughts of other men, 
 Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. 
 
 l&notoletige, — Lavater. 
 T'HREE days of uninterrupted Company in a vehicle will make 
 you better acquainted with another, than one hour's Conversa- 
 tion with him every day for three years. 
 
 iSttOtoU&jje*— Byron. 
 
 Knowledge is not Happiness, and Science 
 But an exchange of Ignorance for that 
 Which is another kind of Ignorance. 
 
 l&notoletjge. — Coiton. 
 
 TpHE profoundly wise do not declaim against superficial Know- 
 ledge in others, so much as the profoundly ignorant ; on the 
 contrary, they would rather assist it with their Advice than over- 
 whelm it with their Contempt ; for they know that there was a 
 period when even a Bacon or a Newton were superficial, and that 
 he who has a little Knowledge is far more likely to get more than 
 ne that has none. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 259 
 
 Itttotoletige. —Milton. 
 
 Not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life, 
 Is the prime Wisdom ; what is more, is fume, 
 Or Emptiness, or fond Impertinence, 
 And renders us in things that most concern 
 Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 
 
 3£notoIefcge. — Shakspeare. 
 "VT EN'S faults do seldom to themselves appear, 
 
 Their own Transgressions partially they smother: 
 Oh ! how are they wrapt in with infamies, 
 That from their own Misdeeds askance their eyes ! 
 
 l&notolrtrge. — Coiton. 
 
 'TO despise our species, is the price we must too often pay for our 
 
 
 Knowledge of it. 
 
 ftttutolefcge. — Prior. 
 T>EMEMBER that the cursed desire to know, 
 Offspring of Adam ! was thy source of Wo. 
 Why wilt thou then renew the vain pursuit, 
 And rashly catch at the forbidden Fruit; 
 With empty labour and eluded strife 
 Seeking, by Knowledge, to attain to life ; 
 For ever from that fatal tree debarr'd, 
 Which naming Swords and angry cherubs guard? 
 
 IKttOtoletige. — Spenser. 
 Base minded they that want Intelligence ; 
 For God himself for Wisdom most is praised, 
 And men to God thereby are nighest raised. 
 
 l£notoietige. — Moore. 
 r THE wish to know — that endless Thirst, 
 Which even by quenching is awaked, 
 And which becomes or blest or curst, 
 
 As is the Fount whereat 'tis slaked — 
 Still urged me onward, with Desire 
 Insatiate, to explore, inquire. 
 
 l&notoletjge. — Coiton. 
 
 "P"VEN human Knowledge is permitted to approximate in some 
 degree, and on certain occasions, to that of the Deity, its pure 
 and primary source ; and this assimilation is never more con- 
 spicuous than when it converts evil into the means of producing 
 its opposite good. 
 
 X 
 
260 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ItttOtoletige* — Butler. 
 He knew what's what, and that's as high 
 As metaphysic Wit can fly. 
 
 IfcttOlbiffcge, — Shakspeare. 
 
 Ignorance is the curse of God, 
 Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to Heaven. 
 
 Iftttutolefcge, — Milton. 
 
 Knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
 Her temp'rance over appetite, to know 
 In measure what the mind may well contain; 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 Wisdom to Folly. 
 
 HafiOUt* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 PJODILY Labour alleviates the pains of the Mind; and hence 
 arises the Happiness of the poor. 
 
 HallOUt,— Cowper. 
 PJOME hither, ye that press your beds of down, 
 
 And sleep not : see him sweating o'er his bread 
 Before he eats it. — 'Tis the primal curse, 
 But soften'd into Mercy ; made the pledge 
 Of cheerful Days, and Nights without a groan. 
 
 3Lat)0Ur.— Anon. 
 TVHE pernicious, debilitating tendencies of bodily Pleasure need 
 to be counteracted by the invigorating exercises of bodily La- 
 bour; whereas bodily Labour without bodily Pleasure converts the 
 body into a mere machine, and brutifies the Soul. 
 
 Hanguage,— p. g. Niebuhr. 
 
 HTHE writer, or even the student, of History, ought, if possible, 
 to know all nations in their own Tongue. Languages have one 
 inscrutable origin — as have all national peculiarities — and he has 
 but an imperfect knowledge of a people who does not know their 
 Language. 
 
 Hanguage, — w. b. ciuiow. 
 
 'THE study of Languages has given a character to modern minds, 
 by the habits of discrimination and analysis which it requires, 
 and has partly contributed to the present advancement of Science 
 and reasoning. To represent it as nothing but a criticism of 
 words, or an exercise of memory, is utterly erroneous. It demands 
 no trifling Perspicacity and Judgment ; admits the operations even 
 of Fancy, picturing things of which words are but the symbols ; 
 and tends to promote quickness and depth of Apprehension. A 
 good Linguist is always a man of considerable acuteness, and often 
 of pre-eminent taste. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 261 
 
 Eanguage. — Coleridge. 
 Sublimity is Hebrew by birth. 
 
 Uanguage.— Avon. 
 
 "pSCHEW fine Words, as you would rouge : love simple ones, as 
 you would native Roses on your cbeeks. Act as you might be 
 disposed to do on your estate : employ such Words as have the 
 largest families, keep clear of Foundlings, and of those of which 
 nobody can tell whence they come, unless he happens to be a 
 scholar. 
 
 Cf)e Uatfc. — Thomson. 
 
 Up springs the Lark, 
 Shrill voiced and loud, the messenger of Morn ; 
 Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings, 
 Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts 
 Calls up the tuneful Nations. 
 
 Cf)e Uarfe. — Southey. 
 
 Loud sung the Lark, the awaken'd maid 
 Beheld him twinkling in the morning light, 
 And wish'd for Wings and Liberty like his. 
 
 Haugijter. — Greviiie. 
 
 A/FAN is the only creature endowed with the power of Laughter; 
 is he not also the only one that deserves to be laughed at ? 
 
 ?Laugf)tet. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 QUR comedians think there is no Delight without Laughter, which 
 is very wrong ; for though Laughter may come with Delight, 
 yet cometh it not of Delight, as though Delight should be the 
 cause of Laughter; but well may one thing breed two together. 
 
 ?lato anft 13J)ptc. — Coiton. 
 
 PETTIFOGGERS in Law, and Empirics in Medicine, whether 
 their patents lose or save their property, or their lives, take 
 care to be, in either case, equally remunerated ; they profit by both 
 horns of the Dilemma, and press defeat no less than success into 
 their service. They hold, from time immemorial, the fee simple 
 of a vast estate, subject to no alienation, diminution, revolution, 
 nor tax ; the Folly and Ignorance of Mankind. 
 
 ?lato atttJ ^ijpgtc. — Fuller. 
 QOMMONLY, Physicians, like beer, are best when they are old ; 
 and Lawyers, like bread, when they are young and new. 
 
 Uato of Oebelopment. — Coiton. 
 
 'THE light of other minds is as necessary to the play and the 
 
 Development of Genius, as the light of other bodies is to the 
 
 play and radiation of the Diamond. A Diamond, incarcerated in 
 
262 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 its subterraneous prison, rough and unpolished, differs not from a 
 common stone ; and a Newton or a Shakspeare, deprived of kindred 
 minds, and born amongst savages — Savages had died. 
 
 Uato ^Learning. — win. 
 
 'THERE is a great deal of Law Learning that is dry, dark, cold, 
 revolting — but it is an old feudal castle, in perfect preservation, 
 which the legal architect, who aspires to the first honours of his pro- 
 fession, will delight to explore, and learn all the uses to which its 
 various parts used to be put : and he will the better understand, 
 enjoy and relish the progressive improvements of the science in 
 modern times. 
 
 Hato,— Cotton. 
 'THE science of Legislation is like that of Medicine in one respect: 
 that it is far more easy to point out what will do harm, than 
 what will do good. 
 
 IL&ta). — Shakspeare. 
 "V\TE must not make a scarecrow of the Law, 
 
 Setting it up to fear the Birds of Prey, 
 And let it keep one shape, till Custom make it 
 Their perch, and not their terror. 
 
 Ueammg. — Chesterjield. 
 A MAN of the best parts and greatest Learning, if he does not 
 know the world by his own experience and observation, will 
 be very absurd, and consequently very unwelcome in Company. 
 He may say very good things; but they will be probably so ill- 
 timed, misplaced, or improperly addressed, that he had much better 
 hold his tongue. 
 
 ILWXninQ. — Steele. 
 
 TTE that wants Good Sense is unhappy in having Learning, for 
 he has thereby only more ways of exposing himself; and he 
 that has Sense, knows that Learning is not Knowledge, but rather 
 the art of using it. 
 
 Ueantmg. — Sir William Temple. 
 "V\THO can tell whether Learning may not even weaken Inven- 
 tion, in a man that has great advantages from nature and 
 birth ; whether the weight and number of so many men's thoughts 
 and notions may not suppress his own, or hinder the motion and 
 agitation of them, from which all Invention arises; as heaping on 
 wood, or too many sticks, or too close together, suppresses, and 
 sometimes quite extinguishes a little Spark, that would otherwise 
 have grown up to a noble Flame. 
 
 iLeanung. — Bishop Taylor. 
 To be proud of Learning, is the greatest Ignorance. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 2(>3 
 
 H earning.— Young. 
 
 Your Learning, like the lunar beam, affords 
 Light, but not heat ; it leaves you undevout, 
 Frozen at heart, while Speculation shines. 
 
 learning.— Milton. 
 
 THE end of Learning is to know God, and out of that knowledge 
 to love him, and to imitate him, as we may the nearest, by 
 possessing our souls of true Virtue. 
 
 ^Learning. —Bishop Earie. 
 
 A PRETENDER to Learning is one that would make all others 
 more fools than himself, for though he know nothing, he would 
 not have the world know so much. He conceits nothing in Learn- 
 ing but the opinion, which he seeks to purchase without it, though 
 he might with less labour cure his ignorance than hide it. His 
 business and retirement is his Study, and he protests no delight 
 to it comparable. He is a great Nomenclator of Authors, which 
 he has read in general in the catalogue, and in particular in the 
 Title, and goes seldom so far as the Dedication. He never talks 
 of any thing but Learning, and learns all from talking. Three en- 
 counters with the same men pump him. He has taken pains to be 
 an Ass, though not to be a Scholar, and is at length discovered and 
 laughed at. 
 
 U earning.— Seiden. 
 
 "^"0 man is the wiser for his Learning : it may administer matter 
 to work in, or objects to work upon ; but Wit and Wisdom are 
 born with a man. 
 
 Ueamtng. — Young. 
 'T/'ORACIOUS Learning, often over-fed, 
 
 Digests not into Sense her motley meal. 
 This Bookcase, with dark booty almost burst, 
 This forager on others' Wisdom, leaves 
 Her native farm, her reason, quite untill'd. 
 
 ILearntng.— Powell. 
 
 1TE who has no Inclination to learn more, will be very apt to 
 think that he knows enough. 
 
 UetSUre. — Franklin. 
 "PMPLOY thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure; and 
 since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour. 
 Leisure is time for doing something useful ; this leisure the diligent 
 man will obtain, but the lazy man never; for a life of leisure and 
 a life of laziness are two things. 
 
 x2 
 
264 ILLUSTRATION'S OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILmVLXt.— Johnson. 
 VOU cannot give an instance of any man who is permitted to lay 
 out his own Time, contriving not to have tedious Hours. 
 
 ftenttg, — Goethe. 
 TT is only necessary to grow old to become more indulgent. I 
 see no Fault committed that I have not committed myself. 
 
 Hettttg. — Shakspeare. 
 \\THEN Lenity and Cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler 
 gamester is the soonest winner. 
 
 Hebttg. — Seneca. 
 TEVITY of Behaviour is the bane of all that is good and vir- 
 tuous. 
 
 W§Z yLiWC. — Shakspeare. 
 Past all shame, so past all Truth. 
 
 Hlfoetaittg, — La Bruyere. 
 T IBERALITY consists less in giving profusely, than in giving 
 judiciously. 
 
 Hftertfi.— Addison. 
 Q LIBERTY, thou goddess, heavenly bright, 
 
 Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight ! 
 Eternal Pleasures in thy presence reign, 
 And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train ; 
 Eased of her load Subjection grows more light, 
 And poverty looks cheerful in thy sight; 
 Thou mak'st the gloomy face of Nature gay, 
 Givest Beauty to the sun, and Pleasure to the day. 
 
 ILtuertg. — Drijden. 
 The love of Liberty with life is given, 
 And life itself th' inferior gift of Heaven. 
 
 Ettetg.— Byron. 
 So let them ease their Hearts with prate 
 Of equal rights, which man ne'er knew. 
 
 Utfiertg.— Byron. 
 J^TERNAL Spirit of the chainless mind ! 
 Brightest in dungeons, Liberty ! thou art, 
 For there thy habitation is the Heart — 
 The Heart which love of thee alone can bind : 
 And when thy sons to fetters are consign'd — 
 To fetters and the damp vault's dayless gloom, 
 Their country conquers with their Martyrdom, 
 And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 265 
 
 Utfcertp,— Byron. 
 'HPIS vain — my tongue cannot impart 
 My almost drunkenness of Heart, 
 When first this liberated eye 
 Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun, and Sky, 
 As if my spirit pierced them through 
 And all their inmost wonders knew ! 
 One word alone can paint to thee 
 That more than feeling — I was Free ! 
 E'en for thy presence ceased to pine : 
 The World — nay — Heaven itself was mine ! 
 
 Utfiertg.— Byron. 
 "\TOTION was in their days, Rest in their slumbers, 
 
 And Cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil ; 
 Nor yet too many nor too few their numbers ; 
 
 Corruption could not make their hearts her soil ; 
 The lust which stings, the Splendour which encumbers ; 
 
 With the free foresters divide no spoil; 
 Serene not sullen, were the Solitudes 
 Of this unsighing people of the woods. 
 
 Utfcertp.— Byron. 
 The Wish — which ages have not yet subdued 
 In Man — to have no master save his mood. 
 
 ILtfc. — Addison. 
 AS it is the chief concern of wise men to retrench the evils of 
 Life by the reasonings of Philosophy, it is the employment of 
 fools to multiply them by the Sentiments of Superstition. 
 
 11 ift. — La Bruyere. 
 'THERE is a time, which precedes Reason, when, like other ani- 
 mals, we live by instinct alone ; of which the Memory retains no 
 vestiges. There is a second term, when Reason discovers itself, 
 when it is formed, and might act, if it were not hoodwinked, as it 
 were, and manacled by vices of the Constitutiom, and a chain of 
 Passions, which succeed one another, till the third and last age : 
 Reason then being in its full force, naturally should assert its dig- 
 nity, and control the appetites; but it is impaired and benumbed 
 by years, sickness, and pains, and shattered by the disorder of the 
 declining Machine; yet these years, with their several imperfec- 
 tions, constitute the Life of Man. 
 
 l,tfe.-- chtom. 
 
 TF you would be known, and not know, vegetate in a Village; if 
 you would know, and not be known, live in a City. 
 
266 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILtfp, — Shakspeare. 
 A LL the world's a Stage, 
 
 And all the men and women merely Players ; 
 They have their Exits and their Entrances, 
 And one man in his time plays many parts : 
 His acts being seven ages. At first the Infant, 
 Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms : 
 And then the whining School-boy, with his satchel, 
 And shining morning face, creeping like snail 
 Unwillingly to school. And then the lover ) 
 Sighing like Furnace, with a woful ballad 
 Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then a Soldier; 
 Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, 
 Jealous in Honour, sudden and quick in quarrel ; 
 Seeking the bubble Reputation 
 
 Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the Justice 
 In fair round belly, with good capon lined, 
 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
 Full of wise saws and modern instances, 
 And so he plays his Part. The sixth age shifts 
 Into the lean and slipper'd Pantaloon, 
 With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side : 
 His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide 
 For his shrunk Shank ) and his big manly voice, 
 Turning again toward childish treble, pipes, 
 And whistles in his sound. Last Scene of all, 
 That ends this strange eventful History, 
 Is second Childishness, and mere oblivion, 
 Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing. 
 
 Etfe. — Smth. 
 QELDOM shall we see in Cities, Courts, and rich families where 
 men live plentifully, and eat and drink freely, that perfect 
 Health, that athletic soundness and vigour of Constitution, which 
 is commonly seen in the country, in poor houses and cottages, 
 where Nature is their cook, and Necessity their caterer, and where 
 they have no other doctor but the Sun and fresh air, and that such 
 a one as never sends them to the Apothecary. 
 
 Htfe. —Byron. 
 'THERE still are many Rainbows in your sky, 
 
 But mine have vanish'd. All, when Life is new, 
 Commence with feelings warm, and prospects high ; 
 
 But Time strips our Illusions of their hue, 
 And one by one in turn, some grand mistake, 
 Casts off its bright skin yearly like the Snake. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 267 
 
 Utfe. _ Pope. 
 'THE vanity of Human Life is like a Kiver, constantly passing 
 away, and yet constantly coming on. 
 
 Htf0. — Shakspeare. 
 REASON thus with Life : A breath thou art, 
 
 (Servile to all the skiey influences,) 
 That dost this Habitation, where thou keep'st, 
 Hourly afflict : merely, thou art Death's fool ; 
 For him thou labour' st by thy flight to shun, 
 And yet run'st toward him still : Thou art not noble ; 
 For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 
 Are nursed by Baseness : Thou art by no means valiant; 
 For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 
 Of a poor worm : Thy best of rest is sleep, 
 And that thou oft provokest. 
 
 Thou art not thyself; 
 For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains 
 That issue out of Dust : Happy thou art not : 
 For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get; 
 And what thou hast, forget'st: Thou art not certain; 
 For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, 
 After the Moon : If thou art rich, thou art poor; 
 For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, 
 Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a Journey, 
 And Death unloads thee : Friends hast thou none ; 
 For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, 
 The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 
 Do curse the Gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 
 For ending thee no sooner : Thou hast nor youth nor age ; 
 But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, 
 Dreaming on both : for all thy blessed Youth 
 Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms 
 Of palsied eld ; and when thou art old, and rich, 
 Thou hast neither Heart, affection, limb, nor beauty, 
 To make thy riches pleasant. Yet in this life 
 Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet Death we fear. 
 
 3Ltf0* — SJiakspeare. 
 THIS is the state of Man ; to-day he puts forth 
 
 The tender leaves of Hope, to-morrow blossoms, 
 And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him : 
 The third day, comes a Frost, a killing Frost ; 
 And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
 His Greatness is a ripening, — nips his Fruit, 
 And then he falls. 
 
268 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Etfe. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 TJESTOW thy Youth so that thou mayst have comfort to re- 
 member it, when it hath forsaken thee, and not sigh and grieve 
 at the account thereof. Whilst thou art young thou wilt think it 
 will never have an end : but behold, the longest day hath his 
 evening, and that thou shalt enjoy it but once, that it never turns 
 again ; use it therefore as the Spring-time, which soon departeth, 
 and wherein thou oughtest to plant and sow all provisions for a 
 long and happy Life. 
 
 !L if t.— Prior. 
 A FLOWER that does with opening morn arise, 
 And, flourishing the day, at evening dies ; 
 A winged Eastern Blast, just skimming o'er 
 The ocean's brow, and sinking on the shore; 
 A Fire, whose flames through crackling stubble fly, 
 A Meteor shooting from the summer sky ; 
 A Bowl adown the bending Mountain roll'd; 
 A Bubble breaking, and a Fable told ; 
 A Noontide Shadow, and a Midnight Dream; 
 Are emblems which, with semblance apt, proclaim 
 Our Earthly Course. 
 
 Utfe. — La Bruyere. 
 A MAN is thirty years old before he has any settled thoughts of 
 his Fortune : it is not completed before fifty j he falls a build- 
 ing in his old age, and dies by that time his House is in a condition 
 to be painted and glazed. 
 
 iltfe, — Addison. 
 'THE ready way to the right enjoyment of Life is, by a prospect 
 toward another, to have but a very mean opinion of it. 
 
 Htfe.— Byron. 
 T\Z"HEN we have made our love, and gamed our gaming, 
 Dress'd, voted, shone, and, may be, something more; 
 With dandies dined ; heard senators declaiming ; 
 Seen beauties brought to market by the score • 
 Sad rakes to sadder husbands chastely taming ; 
 
 There's little left but to be bored or bore. 
 Witness those "ci devant jeunes hommes," who stem 
 The stream, nor leave the world that leaveth them. 
 
 iLtfe, — Scott. 
 A ND there the fisherman his sail unfurl'd, 
 
 The goat-herd drove his kids to steep Ben-Ghoil, 
 Before the hut the dame her spindle turn'd, 
 
 Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil ; 
 For, wake where'er he may, man wakes to Care and toil. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 269 
 
 UtfC— Moore. 
 ~pOR Time will come with all its blights, 
 
 The ruin'd Hope — the friend unkind — 
 The love, that leaves, where'er it lights, 
 
 A chill'd or burning Heart behind ! 
 
 Htfe. — La Bruyere. 
 TF you suppress the exorbitant love of Pleasure and Money, idle 
 Curiosity, iniquitous pursuits and wanton Mirth, what a still- 
 ness would there be in the greatest Cities ! the necessaries of life do 
 not occasion, at most, a third part of the Hurry. 
 
 Htfe.— Byron. 
 A MBITION was my idol, which was broken 
 
 Before the shrines of Sorrow and of Pleasure; 
 And the two last have left me many a token 
 
 O'er which reflection may be made at leisure. 
 
 ILtf 0. — La Bruyere. 
 TF this Life is unhappy, it is a burden to us which it is difficult 
 to bear ; if it is in every respect happy, it is dreadful to be de- 
 prived of it ; so that in either case the result is the same, for we 
 must exist in Anxiety and Apprehension. 
 
 Htfe. — Prior. 
 Who breathes, must suffer ; and who thinks, must mourn, 
 And he alone is bless'd, who ne'er was born. 
 
 ILlU. — Byron. 
 J^ETWEEN two worlds Life hovers like a star, 
 
 'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. 
 How little do we know that which we are ! 
 
 How less what we may be ! The eternal surge 
 Of Time and Tide rolls on, and bears afar 
 
 Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, 
 Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the Graves 
 Of Empires heave but like some passing, waves. 
 
 ILtfe. — Steele. 
 'THERE is nothing which must end, to be valued for its con- 
 tinuance. If hours, days, months, and years pass away, it is 
 no matter what hour, what day, what month, or what year we die. 
 The applause of a good Actor is due to him at whatever scene of 
 the play he makes his exit. It is thus in the Life of a man of 
 sense ; a short life is sufficient to manifest himself a man of Ho- 
 nour and Virtue ; when he ceases to be such, he has lived too 
 long; and while he is such, it is of no consequence to him how 
 long he shall be so, provided he is so to his life's end. 
 
270 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %iU.— Cowleij. 
 THERE is no fooling with Life, when it is once turned beyond 
 forty ; the seeking of a Fortune then is but a desperate after- 
 game : it is a hundred to one if a man fling two sixes, and recover 
 all : especially if his hand be no luckier than mine. 
 
 Utfe*— Beattie. 
 AH! who can tell how hard it is to climb 
 
 The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar; 
 Ah ! who can tell how many a Soul sublime 
 Has felt the influence of malignant star, 
 And waged with Fortune an eternal War; 
 Check'd by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, 
 
 And Poverty's unconquerable bar, 
 In Life's low vale remote has pined alone, 
 Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown ! 
 
 It tf0, — Shakspeare. 
 So we'll live, 
 And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh 
 At gilded butterflies; and hear poor rogues 
 Talk of Court-news, and we'll talk with them too ; 
 Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; 
 And take upon us the mystery of things, 
 As if we were God's spies : And we'll wear out, 
 In a wall'd prison, packs and sets of great ones, 
 That ebb and flow by th' Moon. 
 
 IliU. — Steele. 
 TT is not perhaps much thought of, but it is certainly a very im- 
 portant lesson, to learn how to enjoy ordinary Life, and to be 
 able to relish your being without the transport of some Passion, or 
 gratification of some Appetite. For want of this capacity, the 
 world is filled with whetters, tipplers, cutters, sippers, and all the 
 numerous train of those who, for want of thinking, are forced to be 
 ever exercising their feeling or tasting. 
 
 ILife. — Cotton. 
 
 T IFE is the jailer of the soul in this filthy prison, and its only 
 deliverer is Death : what we call Life is a journey to Death, 
 and what we call Death is a passport to Life. True wisdom thanks 
 Death for what he takes, and still more for what he brings. Let 
 us then, like sentinels, be ready because we are uncertain, and calm 
 because we are prepared. There is nothing formidable about Death 
 but the consequences of it, and these we ourselves can regulate and 
 control. The shortest Life is long enough if it lead to a better, and 
 the longest Life is too short if it do not. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 271 
 
 Htfe. — Byron. 
 
 A LAS ! such is our Nature ! all but aim 
 
 At the same end bj pathways not the same ; 
 Our means, our Birth, our nation, and our name, 
 Our fortune, temper, even our outward frame, 
 Are far more potent o'er our yielding clay 
 Than aught we know beyond our little day. 
 
 Utf e. _ Sir W. Temple. 
 TITHEN all is done, Human Life is, at the greatest and best, but 
 like a froward child, that must be played with, and humoured 
 a little to keep it quiet, till it falls asleep, and then the Care is 
 over. 
 
 %\it.— Byron. 
 T OVE'S the first net which spreads its deadly mesh ; 
 
 Ambition, Avarice, Vengeance, Glory, glue 
 The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days, 
 Where still we flutter on for peace or Praise. 
 
 ILtfe, — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 VOUTH will never live to Age, without they keep themselves 
 in breath with exercise, and in heart with joy fulness. Too 
 much thinking doth consume the spirits : and oft it falls out, that 
 while one thinks too much of doing, he leaves to do the effect of 
 his thinking. 
 
 ILHt. — Sir W. Temple. 
 \1TE bring into the world with us a poor, needy, uncertain Life, 
 short at the longest, and unquiet at the best : all the imagi- 
 nations of the witty and the wise have been perpetually busied to 
 find out the ways how to revive it with Pleasures, or relieve it 
 with Diversions ; how to compose it with Ease, and settle it with 
 Safety. To some of these ends have been employed the institu- 
 tions of Lawgivers, the reasonings of Philosophers, the inventions 
 of Poets, the pains of labouring, and the extravagances of volup- 
 tuous men. All the world is perpetually at work about nothing 
 else, but only that our poor mortal Lives should pass the easier and 
 happier for that little time we possess them, or else end the better 
 when we lose them. 
 
 ILiiZ.—Dryden. 
 CINCE every man who lives is born to die, 
 
 And none can boast sincere Felicity, 
 With equal mind what happens let us bear, 
 Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our care. 
 Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend ; 
 The World's an inn, and Death the journey's end 
 
 Y 
 
272 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 2Ltfe. — Young. 
 The present moment, like a wife, we shun, 
 And ne'er enjoy, because it is our own. 
 
 IliU.— Campbell 
 QOUNT o'er the Joys thine hours have seen, 
 
 Count o'er thy days from Anguish free, 
 And know, whatever thou hast been, 
 'Tis something better not to be. 
 
 ILlU. — Prior. 
 TyB Happiness pursue ; we fly from pain ; 
 
 Yet the pursuit, and yet the flight is vain : 
 And, while poor Nature labours to be blest, 
 By day with Pleasure, and by night with rest, 
 Some stronger power eludes our sickly will, 
 Dashing our rising Hopes with certain ill ; 
 And makes us, with reflective trouble, see 
 That all destined, which we fancy free. 
 
 lltfe, — Dry den. 
 T>UT ah ! how insincere are all our Joys ! 
 
 Which, sent from Heaven, like lightning make no stay; 
 Their palling taste the Journey's length destroys, 
 Or Grief sent post o'ertakes them on the way. 
 
 iLiU. — Pope. 
 Is that a Birth-day ? 'tis, alas ; too clear, 
 ; Tis but the fun'ral of the former year. 
 
 ILtft* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 r rHERE happen sometimes accidents in Life from which it re- 
 quires a degree of madness to extricate ourselves well. 
 
 fttftf. — Spenser. 
 T5TJT what on earth can long abide in state ? 
 
 Or who can him assure of happy day ? 
 Sith morning fair may bring foul evening late, 
 And least mishap the most bless alter may ? 
 For thousand perils lie in close await 
 About us daily, to work our decay, 
 That none, except a god, or God him guide, 
 May them avoid, or Remedy provide. 
 
 Htfe Steele. 
 
 ITIE date of human Life is too short to recompense the cares 
 which attend the most private condition : therefore it is that 
 our Souls are made, as it were, too big for it ; and extend them- 
 selves in the prospect of a longer Existence. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 273 
 
 Etfe.— Colton. 
 
 COCIETY is a sphere that demands all our Energies, and de- 
 serves all that it demands. He therefore that retires to cells 
 and to caverns, to Stripes and to Famine, to court a more arduous 
 conflict, and to win a richer Crown, is doubly deceived ; the conflict 
 is less, the reward is nothing. He may indeed win a race, if he 
 can be admitted to have done so who had no Competitors, because 
 he chose to run alone ; but he will be entitled to no Prize, because 
 he ran out of the course. 
 
 W H / 
 
 Htf0. — Spenser. 
 [EN I beheld this fickle, trustless state 
 Of vain world's glory, flitting to and fro, 
 And mortal men toss'd by troublous Fate, 
 In restless seas of Wretchedness and Woo, 
 I wish I might this weary Life forego, 
 And shortly turn unto my happy rest, 
 
 Where my free Spirit might not any more 
 Be vex'd with sights that do her peace molest. 
 
 ILtfe. — Young. 
 Like some fair hum'rists, Life is most enjoy'd, 
 When courted least; most worth, when disesteem'd. 
 
 TLiU. — Pope. 
 T OYE, Hope, and Joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train; 
 
 Hate, Fear, and Grief, the family of Pain ; 
 These, mixt with Art, and to due bounds confined, 
 Make and maintain the balance of the Mind ; 
 The lights and shades, whose well-accorded strife 
 Gives all the strength and colour of our Life. 
 
 ILtfe Byron. 
 
 LOVE ! Glory ! what are ye ? who fly 
 
 Around us ever, rarely to alight : 
 There's not a Meteor in the polar Sky 
 
 Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight. 
 Chill, and chain'd to cold earth, we lift on high 
 
 Our eyes in search of either lovely light; 
 A thousand and a thousand colours they 
 Assume, then. leave us on our freezing way 
 
 iltfe. — Shakspeare. 
 The time of Life is short; 
 To spend that shortness basely, were too long, 
 If Life did ride upon a dial's point, 
 Stili ending at the arrival of an hour. 
 
 18 
 
274 1 L I r s TR A TIO N S OF TR D T II ; 
 
 %L\U. — Shakspeare. 
 "\TOUK worm is your only Emperor for diet; we fat all creatures 
 else, to fat us; and we fat ourselves for Maggots ; your fat 
 King, and your lean Beggar, is but variable service ; two dishes, 
 but to one table ; that's the end. A man may fish with the worm 
 that hath eat of a King : aud eat of the fish that hath fed of that 
 Worm. 
 
 UtfC — Byron. 
 "VyE wither from our youth, we gasp away — 
 
 Sick — sick ; tmfound the boon — unslaked the thirst, 
 Though to the last, in verge of our decay, 
 
 Some Phantom lures, such as we thought at first — 
 But all too late. — so we are doubly curst. 
 Love, Fame, Ambition, Avarice — 'tis the same, 
 Each idle — aud all ill — and none the worst — 
 For all are meteors with a different name, 
 And Death the sable smoke where vanishes the Flame. 
 
 IliU. — Bi/ron. 
 \yELL — well, the world must turn upon its axis, 
 And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, 
 And live and die, make love and pay our taxes, 
 
 And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails; 
 The King commands us, and the Doctor quacks us, 
 
 The Priest instructs, and so our life exhales; 
 A little Breath, Love, Wine, Ambition, Fame, 
 Fighting, Devotion, Dust, — perhaps a Name. 
 
 iltfe.— Prior. 
 Thus we act ; and thus we are, 
 Or toss'd by Hope, or sunk by Care. 
 With endless pain this man pursues 
 What, if he gained, he could not use : 
 And t'other fondly hopes to see 
 What never was, nor e'er shall be. 
 We err by use, go wrong by rules, 
 In gesture grave, in action fools: 
 We join Hypocrisy to Pride, 
 Doubling the faults we strive to hide. 
 
 lUft. — MOton. 
 
 J>ETTER end here unborn. Why is Life given 
 
 To be thus wrested from us? rather why 
 Obtruded on us thus ? who if we knew 
 What wo receive, would either not accept 
 Life offer'd, or soon beg to lay it down, 
 Glad to be so dismiss'd in Peace. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD 271 
 
 ILiU. — Spenser. 
 A ND ye, fond men ! on Fortune's wheel that ride, 
 
 Or in aught under Heaven repose assurance, 
 Be it Riches, Beauty, or Honour's pride, 
 
 Be sure that they shall have no long endurance, 
 But ere ye be aware will flit away; 
 
 For naught of them is yours, but only th' usance 
 Of a small time, which none ascertain may. 
 
 ILtfe. — Shakspeare. 
 'THAT time of year thou may'st in me behold, 
 
 When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
 Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, 
 
 Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 
 In me thou seest the twilight of such day 
 
 As after sunset fadeth in the west; 
 Which by and by black Night doth take away, 
 
 Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. 
 In me thou seest the glowing of such fire, 
 
 That on the ashes of his Youth doth lie ; 
 As the death-bed whereon it must expire, 
 
 Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. 
 
 llife. — Touiifj. 
 T\THY all this toil for triumphs of an hour? 
 
 What tho' we wade in Wealth, or soar in Fame '( 
 Earth's highest station ends in " Here he lies :" 
 And "Dust to dust" concludes her noblest song. 
 
 ILtfe. — Milton. 
 Nor love thy Life, nor hate ; but whilst thou livest 
 Live well ; how long, how short, permit to Heaven. 
 
 Utfe.— Young. 
 There's not a day, but, to the Man of Thought, 
 Betrays some secret, that throws new reproach 
 On Life, and makes him sick of seeing more. 
 
 ILtfc. — Young. 
 JpRE man has measured half his weary Stage, 
 
 His luxuries have left him no reserve, 
 No maiden relishes, no unbroach'd delights; 
 On cold-served repetitions he subsists, 
 And in the tasteless present chews the past; 
 Disgusted chews, and scarce can swallow down. 
 Like lavish ancestors, his earlier years 
 Have disinherited his future Hours, 
 Which starve on orts, and glean their former field. 
 
 v2 
 
276 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILtfC. — Dry den. 
 "Y^HEN I consider Life, 'tis all a cheat; 
 
 Yet, fool'd with Hope men favour the deceit* 
 Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay ; 
 To-morrow's falser than the former day; 
 Lies worse, and, while it says, we shall be blest, 
 With some new Joys, cuts off what we possest. 
 Strange cozenage ! None would live past years again, 
 Yet all hope Pleasure in what yet remain ; 
 And, from the dregs of life, think to receive, 
 What the first sprightly running could not give. 
 I'm tired with waiting for this chemic Gold, 
 Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. 
 
 Htft. — Byron. 
 
 /^j-RIEF should be the instructor of the wise ; 
 
 Sorrow is Knowledge : they who know the most 
 Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal Truth, 
 The Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life. 
 
 Htfe» — Burns. 
 f} LIFE ! how pleasant is thy morning, 
 
 Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning ! 
 Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning, 
 
 We frisk away, 
 uike school-boys, at th' expected warning, 
 
 To joy and play. 
 We wander there, we wander here, 
 We eye the Rose upon the brier, 
 Unmindful that the Thorn is near, 
 
 Among the leaves; 
 And though the puny wound appear, 
 
 Short while it grieves. 
 
 ILtf£. — Shakspeare. 
 There's nothing in this World can make me joy : 
 Life is as tedious as a twice-told Tale 
 Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. 
 
 Htfe. — Young. 
 T IFE'S little stage is a small eminence, 
 
 Inch-high the grave above : that home of man, 
 Where dwells the multitude : we gaze around ; 
 We read their Monuments; we sigh; and while 
 We sigh, we sink ; and are what we deplored; 
 Lamenting ^r lamented, all our lot ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Irtfe. — Thomson. 
 
 "pVEN so luxurious men, unheeding, pass 
 An idle Summer-life in Fortune's shine, 
 A season's glitter ! Thus they flutter on 
 From toy to toy, from Vanity to Vice; 
 Till, blown away by Death, Oblivion comes 
 Behind, and strikes them from the Book of Life. 
 
 ILtfe. — Young. 
 TTOW must a spirit, late escaped from Earth, 
 
 The truth of things new-blazing in his eye, 
 Look back, astonish'd, on the ways of Men, 
 Whose Lives' whole drift is to forget their graves ! 
 
 ILtf^. — Spenser. 
 (")H, vain world's 'glory, and unsteadfast state, 
 
 Of all that lives on face of sinful Earth ! 
 Which from their first until their utmost date 
 Taste no one hour of Happiness or Mirth, 
 But like as at the ingate of their birth, 
 They crying creep out of their mother's womb, 
 So wailing back go to their woeful Tomb. 
 
 ILlU. — Bt/ron. 
 \\TE are fools of Time and Terror : days 
 
 Steal on us and steal from us ; yet we live, 
 Loathing our Life, aud dreading still to die. 
 In all the days of this detested yoke — 
 This vital weight upon the struggling Heart, 
 Which sinks with sorrow, or beats quick with pain, 
 Or joy that ends in Agony or faintness — 
 In all the days of past and future, for 
 In Life there is no present, we can number 
 How few, how less than few — wherein the soul 
 Forbears to pant for Death, and yet draws back 
 As from a stream in winter, though the chill 
 Be but a moment's. 
 
 ILtff, — Spenser. 
 
 OH, why doe wretched men so much desire 
 To draw their Dayes unto the utmost date, 
 
 And doe not rather wish them soone expire, 
 Knowing the Miserie of their estate, 
 And thousand perills which them still awate, 
 
 Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne, 
 
 That every houre they knocke at Deathe's gate ? 
 
 And he that happie seemes and leaste in payne, 
 
 Yet is as nigh his End as he that most doth playne 
 
278 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Htfe. — Shakspeare. 
 'J'O-MORROW, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
 
 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
 To the last syllable of recorded Time : 
 And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
 The way to dusty Death. Out, out, brief candle ! 
 Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, 
 That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
 And then is heard no more : it is a Tale 
 Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
 Signifying nothing. 
 
 ILtftf, — Spenser. 
 A FTER long storms and tempests overblowne, 
 The Suune at length his joyous face doth cleare 
 
 50 when as Fortune all her spight hath showne, 
 Some blissful hours at last must needes appeare ; 
 Else should afflicted wights ofttimes despeire. 
 
 ILtftf. — Shakspeare. 
 Love all, trust a few, 
 Do wrong to none ; be able for thine Enemy 
 Rather in power, than use ; and keep thy Friend 
 Under thy own life's key ; be check'd for Silence, 
 But never tax'd for Speech. 
 
 Etfe. — Young. 
 
 T'HE world's infectious; few bring back at eve 
 
 Immaculate, the Manners of the morn. 
 Something we thought, is blotted ; we resolved, 
 Is shaken ; we renounced, returns again. 
 
 Utfe. — Thomson. 
 T'HE human race are sons of Sorrow born ; 
 
 And each must have his portion. Vulgar minds 
 Refuse, or crouch beneath their load ; the Brave 
 Bear theirs without repining. 
 
 ?itfe, — Spenser. 
 
 51 ITCH is the weaknesse of all mortall Hope ; 
 
 So fickle is the state of earthly things ; 
 
 That ere they come unto their aymed scope, 
 They fall too short of our fraile reckonings, 
 And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings, 
 
 Instead of Comfort which we should embrace : 
 This is the state of Keasars and of Kings ! 
 
 Let none, therefore, that is in meaner place, 
 
 Too greatly grieve at his unlucky case ! 
 
OK, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 279 
 
 iLtfe.— Cowper. 
 A SK what is Human Life — the Sage replies, 
 With disappointment low'ring in his eyes, 
 A painful Passage o'er a restless flood, 
 A vain Pursuit of fugitive false good, 
 A sense of fancied Bliss and heartfelt care, 
 Closing at last in Darkness and despair. 
 
 ILlfe. — Keats. 
 "POUR seasons fill the measure of the year : 
 
 There are four seasons in the Mind of man * 
 He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear 
 
 Takes in all beauty with an easy span : 
 He has his Summer, when luxuriously 
 
 Spring's honey'd cud of youthful thought he lovep 
 To ruminate, and by such dreaming high 
 
 Is nearest unto Heaven : quiet coves 
 His soul hath in its Autumn, when his wings 
 
 He furleth close j contented so to look 
 On mists in Idleness — to let fair things 
 
 Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. 
 He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, 
 Or else he would forego his mortal nature. 
 
 Cfje ItUtB'S HifZ. — Shakspeare. ' 
 'THE single and peculiar Life is bound, 
 
 With all the strength and armour of the Min'i, 
 To keep itself from 'noyance ; but much more 
 That Spirit, upon whose weal depend and rest 
 The lives of many. The cease of Majesty 
 Dies not alone ; but, like a gulf, doth draw 
 What's near it, with it : it is a massy wheel, 
 Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, 
 To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things 
 Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, 
 Each small annexment, petty consequence, 
 Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone 
 Did the King sigh, but with a general Groan 
 
 £tgf)t. — Milton. 
 
 TTAIL holy Light, offspring of Heaven first born, 
 
 Or of the eternal co-eternal beam, 
 May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, 
 And never but in unapproached light, 
 Dwelt from Eternity, dwell then in thee, 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 
280 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 IUjjf)k — Milton. 
 
 Before the Sun, 
 Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice 
 Of God, as with a mantle didst invest 
 The rising world of Waters dark and deep 
 Won from the void and formless Infinite. 
 
 (EeleSttal Etgf)t.— Shakspeare. 
 Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell : 
 Though all things foul would wear the brows of Grace, 
 Yet Grace must still look so. 
 
 listening. — Coiton. 
 
 "Y^ERL we as eloquent as Angels, yet should we please some 
 Men, some Women, and some Children much more by listen- 
 ing than by talking. 
 
 Utteratitte.— Anon. 
 
 T ITERARY Dissipation is no less destructive of sympathy with 
 the living world, than sensual Dissipation. Mere Intellect is 
 as hard-hearted and as heart-hardening as mere Sense ; and the 
 union of the two, when uncontrolled by the Conscience, and with- 
 out the softening, purifying influences of the moral affections, is 
 all that is requisite to produce the diabolical ideal of our Nature. 
 Noi iA there any repugnance in either to coalesce with the other : 
 witness lago, Tiberius, Borgia. 
 
 Utter ature. — Prescott. 
 
 r rHE triumphs of the warrior are bounded by the narrow theatre 
 of his own age ; but those of a Scott or a Shakspeare will be re- 
 newed with greater and greater lustre in ages yet unborn, when 
 the victorious chieftain shall be forgotten, or shall live only in the 
 song of the minstrel and the page of the chronicler. 
 
 Utbmrj.— Addison. 
 T^HE man who will live above his present circumstances, is in great 
 danger of living in a little time much beneath them. 
 
 UtbhtguielL — Fuller. 
 TTE lives long that lives well; and Time misspent, is not lived, 
 but lost. Besides, God is better than his promise if he takes 
 from him a long lease, and gives him a Freehold of a better value. 
 
 Utbtng IttelL — Seneca. 
 
 TT is the bounty of Nature that we live, but of Philosophy that 
 we live well; which is, in truth, a greater benefit than Life 
 itself. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 281 
 
 HOtrtHm. — Johnson. 
 
 TTERE Malice, Rapine, Accident, conspire, 
 
 And now a Rabble rages, and now a Fire ; 
 Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay, 
 And here the fell Attorney prowls for prey ; 
 Here falling houses thunder on your head, 
 And here a female Atheist talks you dead. 
 
 UotVtJOn.— Byron. 
 A MIGHTY Mass of Brick, and smoke, and shipping, 
 
 Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye 
 Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping 
 
 In sight, then lost amidst the forestry 
 Of masts ; a wilderness of Steeples peeping 
 On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy, 
 A huge dun Cupola, like a foolscap crown 
 On a fool's head — and there is London Town ! 
 
 3LontJ01t.— Johnson. 
 T ONDON ! the needy Villain's gen'ral home, 
 The common sewer of Paris and of Rome; 
 With eager Thirst, by folly or by fate, 
 Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted State. 
 
 IrMtgebttg.— Cotton. 
 
 T\T ERE the Life of man prolonged, he would become such a pro- 
 ficient in villany, that it would be necessary again to drown or 
 to burn the World. Earth would become a Hell : for future re- 
 wards, when put off to a great distance, would cease to encourage, 
 and future punishments to alarm. 
 
 ILoofemg uptoarto. — Coiton. 
 
 " OUR thoughts/' says an eloquent divine, " like the waters of 
 the sea, when exhaled toward Heaven, will lose all their 
 bitterness and saltness, and sweeten into an amiable Humanity, 
 until they descend in gentle showers of love and kindness upon our 
 fellow-men. " 
 
 UfjquaCttD. — Fuller. 
 I" EARN to hold thy Tongue. Five Words cost Zacharias forty 
 Weeks' Silence. 
 
 EOOniaCttp.— Fuller. 
 THOU may'st esteem a Man of many Words and many Lies much 
 alike. 
 
 ?i.0be. — Shakspeare. 
 She is so conjunctive to my life and Soul, 
 That, as the Star moves not but in his Sphere, 
 I could not but by her. 
 
2*2 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 llobe SJidkspeare. 
 
 OR, that persuasion could but thus convince me. 
 
 That my Integrity and Truth to you 
 Might be affronted with the match and weight 
 Of such a winnow'd purity in Love : 
 How were I then up-lifted ! but alas, 
 I am as true as Truth's simplicity, 
 And simpler than the infancy of Truth. 
 
 Uobe. — Slidkspeare. 
 This bud of Love, by summer's ripening breath, 
 May prove a beauteous Flower, when next we meet. 
 
 Uobe. _ Campbell. 
 TN joyous Youth, what soul hath never known 
 
 Thought, feeling, taste, harmonious to its own? 
 Who hath not paused while Beauty's pensive eye 
 Ask'd from his Heart the homage of a sigh ? 
 Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, 
 The power of Grace, the magic of a Name ? 
 
 ftobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Q BRAWLING Love ! loving Hate! 
 
 anything, of nothing first create ! 
 O heavy lightness ! serious Vanity ! 
 Mis-shapen Chaos of well-seeming forms ! 
 Feather of Lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick Health ! 
 Still-waking Sleep, that is not what it is ! 
 
 Uobe. — Moore. 
 T OVE was to his impassion'd soul 
 Not, as with others, a mere part 
 Of its existence, but the whole — 
 The very Life Breath of his Heart ! 
 
 Uobe. — Byron. 
 
 Instead of poppies, Willows 
 Waved o'er his couch ; he meditated, fond 
 Of those sweet bitter thoughts which banish sleep, 
 And make the Worldling sneer, the Youngling weep. 
 
 Uobe. — Spenser. 
 So Love does raine 
 In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous Warre : 
 
 He maketh warre : he maketh Peace againe, 
 And yett his Peace is but continuall Jarre : 
 Oh miserable men that to him subject arre ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 283 
 
 HO be, — Mrs. Tighe. 
 /~\H ! never may Suspicion's gloomy sky 
 
 Chill the sweet glow of fondly trusting Love ! 
 Nor ever may he feel the scowling eye 
 
 Of dark Distrust his Confidence reprove ! 
 
 In pleasing error may I rather rove, 
 With blind reliance on the hand so dear, 
 
 Than let cold Prudence from my eyes remove 
 Those sweet delusions, where no doubt nor fear, 
 Nor foul Disloyalty, nor cruel Change appear. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 She loved me for the Dangers I had pass'd ; 
 And I loved her, that she did pity them. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 A lover's pinch, 
 Which hurts, and is desired. 
 
 Uobe. — Byron. 
 Oh ! I envy those 
 Whose Hearts on Hearts as faithful can repose, 
 Who never feel the void — the wandering thought 
 That sighs o'er visions — such as mine hath wrought. 
 
 Hobe. — Sliakspeare. 
 If ever thou shalt love, 
 In the sweet pangs of it remember me : 
 For, such as I am, all true Lovers are ; 
 Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, 
 Save, in the constant Image of the creature 
 That is beloved. 
 
 ItObe. — Shakspeare. 
 I tell thee, I am mad 
 In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st, she is fair; 
 Pour'st in the open ulcer of my Heart 
 Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice ; 
 Handiest in thy discourse — that ! her hand ! 
 (In whose comparison, all whites are Ink 
 Writing their own reproach) to whose soft seizure 
 The Cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of Sense 
 Hard as the palm of Ploughman. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 If he be not one that truly loves you, 
 That errs in Ignorance, and not in cunning, 
 I have no judgment in an Honest face. 
 Z 
 
284 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Eobe. — Mrs. Tight. 
 (~)H \ "who the exquisite delight can tell, 
 
 The joy which mutual Confidence imparts? 
 Or who can paint the charm unspeakable 
 
 Which links in tender bands two faithful Hearts ? 
 
 In vain assail'd by Fortune's envious darts, 
 Their mitigated woes are sweetly shared, 
 
 And doubled Joy reluctantly departs: 
 Let but the sympathizing heart be spared, 
 What Sorrow seems not light, what Peril is not dared? 
 
 ILtlbc, — Shdkspeare. 
 T>OLDNESS comes to me now, and brings me Heart: 
 
 Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and day, 
 For many weary months. 
 Why was my Cressid then so hard to win ? 
 Hard to seem won : but I was won, my lord, 
 With the first glance that ever — pardon me — ■ 
 If I confess much, you will play the Tyrant : 
 I love you now; but not till now, so much 
 But I might master it — in faith, I lie — 
 My thoughts were, like unbridled children, grown 
 Too headstrong for their Mother; see, we fools ! 
 Why have I blabb'd ? who shall be true to us, 
 When we are so unsecret to ourselves ? 
 But though I loved you well, I woo'd you not ; 
 And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a Man : 
 Or that We women had men's privilege, 
 Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue ; 
 For in this rapture I shall surely speak 
 The thing I shall repent ; see, see, your silence 
 (Cunning in dumbness) from my Weakness draws 
 My very Soul of Counsel. 
 
 Hofce*— Dry&en. 
 
 The power of Love, 
 In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heaven above, 
 Rules, unresisted, with an awful nod; 
 By daily miracles declared a god : 
 He blinds the Wise, gives eyesight to the blind ; 
 And moulds and stamps anew the Lover's mind. 
 
 Efjbe. — Sir Samuel E. Brydges. 
 f\ Love ! requited Love, how fine thy thrills, 
 
 That shake the trembling flame with ecstasy; 
 Even every vein celestial pleasure fills, 
 And inexpressive Bliss is in each sigh. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 28; 
 
 ilobp. — Shakspeare. 
 To be 
 In love, where Scorn is bought with Groans; coy Looks, 
 With heart-sore Sighs ; one fading moment's Mirth ; 
 With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights : 
 If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain; 
 If lost, why then a grievous labour won; 
 However, but a. Folly bought with Wit, 
 Or else a Wit by Folly vanquished. 
 
 HO be. — Shahspeare. 
 
 Why, what would you ? 
 Make me a Willow cabin at your gate, 
 And call upon my Soul within the house; 
 Write loyal cantos of contemned Love, 
 And sing them loud even in the dead of night; 
 Holla your name to the reverberate Hills, 
 And make the babbling gossip of the air 
 Cry out, Olivia ! Oh, you should not rest 
 Between the elements of Air and Earth, 
 But you should pity me. 
 
 HOue. — Shahspeare. 
 "RUT Love, first learned in a lady's Eyes, 
 Lives not alone immured in the Brain; 
 But with the motion of all elements, 
 Courses as swift as Thought in every power ; 
 And gives to every power a double power, 
 Above their functions and their offices. 
 It adds a precious seeing to the Eye : 
 A Lover's Eyes will gaze an Eagle blind ! 
 A Lover's Ear will hear the lowest sound, 
 When the suspicious head of thrift is stopt. 
 Love's Feeling is more soft and sensible, 
 Than are the tender horns of cockled snails. 
 Love's Tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in Taste ; 
 For Savour, is not Love a Hercules? 
 Still climbing trees in the Hesperides. 
 Subtle as Sphinx ; as sweet and musical 
 As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair : 
 And when Love speaks the voice of all the Gods, 
 Mark, Heaven drowsie with the harmony ! 
 Never durst Poet touch a pen to write, 
 Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs; 
 Oh, then his lines would ravish savage ears, 
 And plant in Tyrants mild humility. 
 
•286 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Hebe. — Shakspeare. 
 Alas, that Love, whose view is muffled still, 
 Should, without eyes, see pathways to his Will ! 
 
 E0be.-- Sir A. Hunt. 
 
 "VyHAT is Love? 'tis not the kiss 
 Of a harlot lip — the Bliss 
 
 That doth perish 
 
 Even while we cherish 
 The fleeting Charm : and what so fleet as this ? 
 
 He is bless'd in Love alone, 
 
 Who loves for years, and loves but one. 
 
 3Lobe* — Shakspeare. 
 How wayward is this foolish Love, 
 That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, 
 And presently, all humbled, kiss the Rod ? 
 
 Uobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Our separation so abides, and flies, 
 That thou, residiug here, go'st yet with me, 
 And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. 
 
 ?l0bC- — Campbell. 
 C\ LOVE ! in such a wilderness as this, 
 
 Where Transport and Security entwine, 
 Here is the empire of thy perfect Bliss, 
 
 And here thou art a God indeed divine; 
 
 Here shall no forms abridge, no hours confine 
 The views, the walks, that boundless Joy inspire ! 
 
 Roll on, ye days of raptured influence, shine ! 
 Nor blind with Ecstasy's celestial fire, 
 Siall Love behold the spark of earth-born Time expire 
 
 ?Lobe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Oh, for a Falconer's voice, 
 To lure this tassel-gentle back again ! 
 Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; 
 Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, 
 And make her airy Tongue more hoarse than mine 
 With repetition of my Romeo's name. 
 
 ILfjbe. — Shakspeare. 
 TVrHAT ! keep a Week away? seven Days and Nights? 
 Eightscore Eight Hours ? and Lovers' absent Hours, 
 More tedious than the dial, eightscore times ? 
 Oh weary Reckoning ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 287 
 
 ^LAS 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 So holy and so perfect is my Love, 
 And I in such a poverty of Grace, 
 That I shall think it a most plenteous crop 
 To glean the broken ears after the man 
 That the main Harvest reaps : loose now and then 
 A scatter' d Smile, and that I'll live upon. 
 
 3L0be. — Byron. 
 ! the Love of Women ! it is known 
 To be a lovely and a fearful thing ; 
 For all of theirs upon that Die is thrown : 
 
 And if 'tis lost, Life has no more to bring 
 To them but mockeries of the past alone. 
 
 ?iOu0, — Shakspeare. 
 F DID not take my leave of him, but had 
 
 Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him, 
 How I would think on him, at certain Hours, 
 Such Thoughts, and such; 
 
 Or have charged him 
 At the sixth hour of Morn, at Noon, at Midnight, 
 To encounter me with Orisons, for then 
 I am in Heaven for him; or ere I could 
 Give him that parting Kiss, which I had set 
 Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father, 
 And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north, 
 Shakes all our Buds from growing. 
 
 HobC— Shakspeare. 
 
 While injury of chance 
 Puts back Leave-taking, justles roughly by 
 All time of pause, rudely beguiles our Lips 
 Of all rejoyndure, forcibly prevents 
 Our lock'd Embraces, strangles our dear Vows, 
 Even in the birth of our own labouring Breath. 
 We two, that with so many thousand Sighs 
 Each other bought, must poorly sell ourselves 
 With the rude Brevity and Discharge of one. 
 Injurious Time now, with a robber's haste, 
 Crams his rich thiev'ry up, he knows not how. 
 As many Farewells as be stars in Heaven, 
 With distinct breath and consign'd Kisses to them, 
 He fumbles up all in one loose Adieu; 
 And scants us with a single famish'd Kiss, 
 Distasted with the salt of broken Tears. 
 
288 IL L US TR A TIO XS F TR UTTT; 
 
 ?lobe. — Spenser. 
 For Lovers' Eyes mere sharply sighted be 
 Thau other men's, and in dear Love's delight 
 See more than any other Eyes can see. 
 
 ILobe.— Moore. 
 
 f)H ! who, that has ever had Rapture complete, 
 
 Would ask how we feel it, or why it is sweet; 
 How rays are confused, or how particles fly, 
 Through the medium refined of a Glance or a Sigh ! 
 Is there one, who but once would not rather have known it? 
 Than written, with Harvey, whole Volumes upon it ? 
 
 ?iobe. — Shakspeare. 
 A loss of her, 
 That, like a Jewel, has hung twenty years, 
 About his neck, yet never lost her Lustre. 
 
 ltd be. — Shakspeare. 
 VOU are a Lover; borrow Cupid's wings, 
 
 And soar with them above a common bound. . . . 
 I am too sore empierced with his Shaft, 
 To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, 
 I cannot bound a pitch above dull Wo : 
 Under Love's heavy burden do I sink. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Love goes toward Love, as school-boys from their books; 
 But Love from Love, toward school with heavy looks. 
 
 2Lobe. — Spenser. 
 No lesse was she in secret Hart affected, 
 But that she masked it with Modestie 
 For feare she should of Lightnesse be detected. 
 
 Uobe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I would have thee gone ; 
 And yet no farther than a wanton's Bird, 
 That lets it hop a little from her hand, 
 Like a poor Prisoner in his twisted gyves, 
 And with a silk thread plucks it back again, 
 So loving-jealous of his Liberty. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 I will wind thee in my arms; 
 So doth the Woodbine, the sweet Honey-suckle, 
 Gently entwist the Maple ; Ivy so 
 Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 289 
 
 ilobe, — Shakspeare. 
 
 Lovers and Madmen have such seething brains, 
 Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 
 More than cool Reason ever comprehends. 
 
 Uobe, — Spenser. 
 QHEE greatly gan enamoured to wex, 
 
 And with vain thoughts her falsed fancy vex : 
 Her fickle Hart conceived hasty Fyre, 
 
 Like sparkes of Fire that fall in sclender flex, 
 That shortly brent into extreme Desyre, 
 And ransackt all her veines with Passion entyre. 
 
 ILobe,— Moore. 
 
 GHE loves — but knows not whom she loves, 
 
 Nor what his race, nor whence he came ; — 
 Like one who meets, in Indian groves, 
 
 Some beauteous Bird without a name, 
 Brought by the last ambrosial Breeze, 
 From isles in th' undiscover'd seas, 
 To show his Plumage for a day 
 To wondering eyes, and wing away ! 
 
 Uobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Now by the jealous queen of Heaven, that Kiss 
 I carried from thee, dear; my true Lip 
 Hath virgin' d it e'er since. 
 
 Hobc. — Spenser. 
 CAD, solemne, sowre, and full of Fancies fraile 
 She woxe, yet wist she nether how nor why; 
 She wist not (silly mayd) what she did aile, 
 Yet wist she was not well at ease perdy, 
 Yet thought it was not Love but some Melancholy. 
 
 ILobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Oh, what damn'd Minutes tells he o'er, 
 Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves! 
 
 iUbe. — Byron. 
 TT was such pleasure to behold him, such 
 
 Enlargement of Existence to partake 
 Nature with him, to thrill beneath his touch, 
 
 To watch him slumbering, and to see him wake : 
 To live with him for ever were so much ; 
 
 But then the thought of parting made her quake ; 
 He was her own, her Ocean-treasure, cast 
 Like a rich Wreck — her First love, and her Last. 
 
 19 
 
290 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Eobe. — Mrs. Tiglie. 
 ~[JNHAPPY Psyche ! soon the latent wound 
 
 The fading Roses of her Cheek confess, 
 Her Eyes' bright Beams, in swimming sorrows drown'd, 
 
 Sparkle no more with Life and Happiness, 
 
 Her parent's fond Heart to bless; 
 She shuns adoring crowds, and seeks to hide 
 
 The pining sorrows which her Soul oppress, 
 Till to her mother's tears no more denied, 
 The secret Grief she owns, for which she lingering sigh'd. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 All thy vexations 
 Were but my trials of thy Love, and thou 
 Hast strangely stood the Test. 
 
 HO be. — Spenser. 
 THE rolling Wheel, that runneth often round, 
 The hardest Steel in tract of Time doth tear ; 
 And drizzling Drops, that often do redound, 
 
 Firmest Flint doth in continuance wear : 
 
 Yet cannot I, with many a dropping tear, 
 And long entreaty, soften her hard Heart, 
 
 That she will once vouchsafe my plaint to hear, 
 Or look with pity on my painful Smart : 
 But when I plead, she bids me play my part; 
 
 And when I weep, she says Tears are but water ; 
 And when I sigh, she says I know the art; 
 
 And when I wail, she turns herself to Laughter: 
 So do I weep and wail, and plead in vain, 
 Whiles she as Steel and Flint doth still remain. 
 
 Udbe. — Shakspeare. 
 TAKE, oh, take those Lips away, 
 That so sweetly were forsworn; 
 And those Eyes, the break of day, 
 
 Lights that do mislead the Morn ; 
 But my Kisses bring again, 
 Seals of Love, but seal'd in vain. 
 
 IlO be. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Mine Eyes 
 Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; 
 Mine Ears, that heard her flattery; nor my Heart, 
 That thought her like her Seeming : it had been vicious. 
 To have mistrusted her. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 291 
 
 ?Lobe* — Shakspeare. 
 How all the other passions fleet to air, 
 As doubtful Thoughts, and rash-embraced Despair, 
 And shudd'ring Fear, and green-eyed Jealousie. 
 
 Love, be moderate, allay thy ecstacie ; 
 In measure rein thy joy, scant this excess; 
 
 1 feel too much thy blessing, make it less, 
 For fear I surfeit. 
 
 Itobe. — Byron. 
 TTOW beautiful she look'd ! her conscious Heart 
 Grlow'd in her Cheek, and yet she felt no wrong. 
 
 Love, how perfect is thy mystic Art, 
 Strengthening the Weak, and trampling on the Strong ! 
 
 How self-deceitful is the sagest part 
 
 Of mortals whom thy Lure hath led along ! 
 
 ?iobf . — Shakspeare. 
 'THAT which I show, Heaven knows, is merely Love 
 
 Duty and zeal to your unmatch'd mind, 
 Care of your food and living : and, believe it, 
 For any benefit that points to me, 
 Either in Hope, or present, I'd exchange 
 For this one wish, that you had Power and Wealth, 
 To requite me, by making rich yourself. 
 
 2L0be. — Byron. 
 THE World was not for them, nor the World's art 
 
 For beings passionate as Sappho's song; 
 Love was born with them, in them, so intense, 
 It was their very Spirit — not a sense. 
 
 ILobe. — Moore. 
 HPHE world ! — ah, Fanny ! Love must shun 
 
 The path where many rove ; 
 One Bosom to recline upon, 
 One Heart to be his only-one, 
 
 Are quite enough for Love ! 
 
 Urjbe* — Shakspeare. 
 
 1 GROW to you, and our Parting is a tortured body. 
 
 Ufjbe. — La Bruyere. 
 T OVE seizes on us suddenly, without giving warning, and our 
 Disposition or our Weakness favours the Surprise; one Look, 
 one Glance from the fair, fixes and determines us. Friendship, 
 on the contrary, is a long time in forming; it is of slow growth, 
 through many trials and months of Familiarity. 
 
292 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 HO be. — SJiakspeare. 
 Should we be taking Leave 
 As long a term as yet we have to live, 
 The Loathness to depart would grow. 
 
 Il0 be. — SJiakspeare. 
 "V\/"HAT shall I do to win my Lord again ? 
 
 Good friend, go to him ; for, by this light of Heaven, 
 I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel : 
 If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his Love, 
 Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed; 
 Or that mine Eyes, mine Ears, or any sense, 
 Delighted them in any other form ; 
 Or that I do not yet, and ever did, 
 And ever will, — though he do shake me off 
 To beggarly Divorcement, — love him dearly, 
 Comfort forswear me ; Unkindness may do much ; 
 And his Unkindness may defeat my Life, 
 But never taint my Love. 
 
 HO be. — Byron. 
 HTHEY should have lived together deep in Woods, 
 
 Unseen as sings the Nightingale ; they were 
 Unfit to mix in these thick Solitudes 
 
 Call'd social, where all vice and hatred are ; 
 
 How lonely every freeborn creature broods ! 
 
 The sweetest Song-birds nestle in a pair; 
 
 The Eagle soars alone : the Gull and Crow 
 
 Flock o'er their Carrion, just as mortals do. 
 
 HO be. — SJiakspeare. 
 FRIENDSHIP is constant in all other things, 
 
 Save in the office and affairs of Love : 
 Therefore, all hearts in Love use their own Tongues ; 
 Let every Eye negotiate for itself, 
 And trust no agent : for Beauty is a witch, 
 Against whose charms Faith melteth into Blood. 
 
 Hobe. — SJiakspeare. 
 
 Love is not Love, 
 When it is mingled with Respects, that stand 
 Aloof from the entire point. 
 
 Hobe.— Byron. 
 /~)H beautiful ! and rare as beautiful ! 
 
 But theirs was Love in which the mind delights 
 To lose itself, when the old world grows dull, 
 And we are sick of its hack Sounds and Sights. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 293 
 
 3Lt)be. — Shahspeare. 
 A MURd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon, 
 Thans Love that would seem hid ; Love's night is Noon. 
 
 Hebe* — S/iakspeare. 
 Sweet Love, changing his property, 
 Turn to the sourest and most deadly Hate. 
 
 HO be. — Moore. 
 ;r TWAS his own Voice. She could not err, 
 
 Throughout the breathiug world's extent 
 There was but one such Voice for her, 
 
 So kind, so soft, so eloquent; 
 Oh ! sooner shall the Rose of May 
 
 Mistake her own sweet Nightingale, 
 And to some meaner minstrel's lay 
 
 Open her bosom's glowing vail, 
 Than Love shall ever doubt a tone, 
 
 A breath of the beloved One ! 
 
 Hobe. — Shahspeare. 
 Nature is fine in Love ; and, where 'tis fine, 
 It sends some precious instance of itself 
 After the thing it loves. 
 
 ?i0be. — Shahspeare. 
 THERE lives within the very flame of Love 
 
 A kind of Wick, or Snuff, that will abate it; 
 And nothing is at a like goodness still : 
 For goodness, growing to a Pleurisy, 
 Dies in his own too-much. 
 
 2Lobe.— Byron. 
 A H, happy sbe ! to 'scape from him whose Kiss 
 
 Had been pollution unto aught so chaste ; 
 Who soon had left her charms for vulgar Bliss, 
 And spoil'd her goodly Lands to gild his waste, 
 Nor calm domestic Peace had ever deign'd to taste. 
 
 ILobe. — Shahspeare. 
 Where Love is great, the littlest doubts are fear ; 
 Where little Fears grow great, great Love grows there 
 
 llObe. — Shahspeare. 
 Looks kill Love, and Love by looks reviveth : 
 A Smile recures the wounding of a Frown, 
 But blessed bankrupt, that by Love so thriveth 
 
294 ILLUSTRATION'S OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe. — Byron. 
 
 The river 
 Damrn'd from its Fountain — the Child from the Knee 
 
 And Breast maternal wean'd at once for ever, 
 Would wither less than these two torn apart ! 
 Alas ! there is no instinct like the Heart ! 
 
 Hob*.— -Byron. 
 
 A ND he was mourn'd by one whose quiet Grief 
 Less loud, outlasts a people's for their chief. 
 Vain was all question ask'd her of the past, 
 And vain e'en menace — silent to the last; 
 She told nor whence nor why she left behind 
 Her all for one who seem'd but little kind. 
 Why did she love him ? Curious fool ! — be still — 
 Is human Love the growth of human will ? 
 To her he might be Gentleness; the stern 
 Have deeper thoughts than your dull eyes discern, 
 And when they love, your smilers guess not how 
 Beats the strong Heart, though less the Lips avow. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 She never told her Love, 
 But let Concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
 Feed on her damask Cheek; she pined in thought; 
 And, with a green and yellow Melancholy 
 She sat (like patience on a monument) 
 Smiling at Grief. 
 
 Hobe. — Byron. 
 T>UT there was something wanting on the whole — ■ 
 I don't know what, and therefore cannot tell — 
 Which, pretty women — the sweet souls ! — call Soul : 
 
 Certes is was not Body ; he was well 
 Proportion'd as a poplar or a pole — 
 
 A handsome man, that human miracle ; 
 And in each circumstance of Love or War 
 Had still preserved his Perpendicular. 
 
 ilObe, — Shakspeare. 
 
 If I prove her haggard, 
 Tho' that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, 
 I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind 
 To prey at Fortune. 
 
 I had rather be a Toad, 
 And live upon the vapour of a dungeon, 
 Than keep a Corner in the thing I love, 
 For others' use. 
 
 

 
 
 
 OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 295 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 SHE, that hath a Heart of that fine frame, 
 To pay this debt of Love but to a Brother, 
 How will she love, when tbe rich golden shaft 
 Hath kill'd the flock of all Affections else 
 That live in her? when Liver, Brain, and Heart, 
 These sov'reign Thrones, are all supplied and filled, 
 Her sweet perfections, with one self-same King ! 
 
 ?iObe. — Shakspeare. 
 TTER passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure 
 Love : we cannot call her winds and waters, sighs and tears; 
 they are greater storms and tempests than almanacs can report: 
 this cannot be Cunning in her; if it be, she makes a Shower of 
 Rain as well as Jove. 
 
 Uflbe. — Byron. 
 With thee all toils are sweet, each clime hath charms ; 
 Earth — Sea alike — our World within our arms ! 
 
 lUlbe* —-Byron. 
 
 Love ! no habitant of earth thou art — 
 
 An unseen Seraph, we believe in thee; 
 
 A faith whose martyrs are the broken Heart : 
 
 But never yet hath seen, nor e'er shall see, 
 
 The naked eye, thy form, as it should be ; 
 
 The mind hath made thee, as it peopled Heaven, 
 
 Even with its own desiring phantasy, 
 And to a thought such shape and image given, 
 As haunts the unquench'd Soul — parched — wearied — 
 wrung — and riven. 
 
 1L b e. — Shakspeare. 
 When Love begins to sicken and decay, 
 It useth an enforced Ceremony. 
 
 Uobe. — Shakspeare. 
 HEN the Blood burns, how prodigal the soul 
 Lends the Tongue vows. These blazes, Daughter, 
 Giving mnre light than heat, extinct in both, 
 Even in their promise as it is a making, 
 You must not take for Fire. 
 Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence, 
 Set your Intreatments at a higher rate, 
 Than a command to parley. 
 
 Uobc. — Shakspeare. 
 T>ASE men, being m Love, have then a Nobility in t^cir natures 
 more than is native to them. 
 
 2A 
 
 W 
 
U96 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 As in the sweetest Bud 
 The eating Canker dwells, so eating Love 
 Inhabits in the finest wits of all. 
 
 As the most forward Bud 
 Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow / 
 Even so by Love the young and tender Wit 
 Is turn'd to Folly ; blasting in the bud, 
 Losing his verdure even in the prime, 
 And all the fair effects of future Hopes. 
 
 HO be, — Milton. 
 "pORSAKE me not thus, witness Heaven 
 
 What Love sincere, and Reverence in my heart 
 I bear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
 Unhappily deceived ! Thy suppliant, 
 I beg and clasp thy Knees ; bereave me not, 
 Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 
 Thy counsel in this uttermost Distress, 
 My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 
 Whither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 
 
 Hob?. — ShaJcspeare. 
 *\TY Love is strengthen'd, though more weak in seeming : 
 
 I love not less, though less the Show appear : 
 That Love is merchandised, whose rich esteeming 
 
 The owner's Tongue doth publish everywhere. 
 Our Love was new, and then but in the spring, 
 
 When I was wont to greet it with my Lays ; 
 As Philomel in Summer's front doth sing, 
 
 And stops his pipe in growth of riper days; 
 Not that the Summer is less pleasant now 
 
 Than when her mournful Hymns did hush the night, 
 But that wild Music burdens every bough, 
 
 And sweets grown common lose their dear delight. 
 
 HO be, — Scott. 
 T^HE Rose is fairest when His budding new, 
 
 And Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; 
 The Rose is sweetest wash'd with morning Dew, 
 And Love is loveliest when embalm'd in Tears. 
 
 HO be, — Byron. 
 T OVE'S a capricious power : I've known it hold 
 Out through a Fever caused by its own heat; 
 But be much puzzled by a Cough and Cold, 
 And find a Quinsy -very hard to treat. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 29' 
 
 Hobe« — Spenser. 
 T>UT who can tell what cause had that fair Maid 
 
 To use him so, that loved her so well ? 
 Or who with blame can justly her upbraid, 
 
 For loving not — for who can Love compel ? 
 And sooth to say, it is fool-hardy thing 
 Rashly to witen creatures so divine ! 
 For demigods they be, and first did spring 
 
 From Heaven, though graft in Frailness Feminine. 
 
 UOue*— Byron. 
 Man's love is of man's life a thing, a Part : 
 'Tis Woman's whole Existence. 
 
 ILobc. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Heaven witness, 
 I've been to you a true and humble Wife, 
 At all times to your Will conformable : 
 Ever in fear to kindle your Dislike, 
 Yea, subject to your count'nance; glad or sorry, 
 As I saw it inclined : when was the hour, 
 I ever contradicted your Desire ? 
 Or made it not mine too ? which of your Friends 
 Have I not strove to love, although I knew 
 He were mine Enemy ? what friend of mine, 
 That had to him derived your Anger, did I 
 Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice 
 He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind, 
 That I have been your Wife, in this obedience, 
 Upward of twenty years; and have been blest 
 With many Children by you. If in the course 
 And process of this time you can report, 
 And prove it too, against mine Honour aught, 
 My bond of Wedlock, or my Love and Duty 
 Against your sacred person, in God's name, 
 Turu me away ; and let the foul'st contempt 
 Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
 To th' sharpest kind of Justice. 
 
 Uobe. — Shdkspeare. 
 T OVE is full of unbefitting strains ; 
 
 All wanton as a Child, skipping, and vain ; 
 Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the Eye, 
 Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, 
 Varying in subjects as the Eye doth roll 
 To every varied object in his Glance. 
 
298 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe. — Shdkspeare. 
 XT AVE I lived thus long (let me speak myself, 
 
 Since Virtue finds no friends) a Wife, a true one? 
 A woman (I dare say, without Vain Glory;) 
 Never yet branded with suspicion ? 
 Have I, with all my full Affections, 
 Loved him next Heaven, obey'd him ? 
 Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him ; 
 Almost forgot my Prayers to content him * 
 And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well. 
 Bring me a constant Woman to her husband, 
 One, that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his Pleasure : 
 And to that woman, when she has done most, 
 Yet will I add an Honour ; a great Patience. 
 
 Hobe. — Mrs. Tiglie. 
 
 \^THEN Pleasure sparkles in the cup of youth, 
 And the gay hours on downy wing advance, 
 
 Oh ! then 'tis sweet to hear the lip of Truth 
 
 Breathe the soft vows of Love, sweet to entrance 
 The raptured soul by intermingling glance 
 
 Of mutual Bliss ; sweet amid roseate bowers, 
 Led by the hand of Love, to weave the dance, 
 
 Or unmolested crop Life's fairy flowers, 
 
 Or bask in Joy's bright sun through calm unclouded hours 
 
 Utlbe, — SJiaJcspeare. 
 Love is blind, and Lovers cannot see 
 The pretty follies that themselves commit. 
 
 Eobe* — Bryden. 
 
 Love never fails to master what he finds, 
 But works a different way in different minds : 
 The Fool enlightens, and the Wise he blinds. 
 
 HO be* — ShaJcspeare. 
 (~)H, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily : 
 
 If thou remember'st not the slightest Folly 
 That ever Love did make thee run into, 
 Thou hast not loved : 
 Or if thou hast not sat, as I do now, 
 Wearying thy hearer in thy Mistress' praise, 
 Thou hast not loved : 
 Or if thou hast not broke from company, 
 Abruptly, as my Passion now makes me, 
 Thou hast not loved. 
 
0R, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 299 
 
 Hob*, — MUion. 
 
 With thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die ; 
 How can I live without thee, how forego 
 Thy sweet converse and Love so dearly join'd ; 
 To live again in these wild woods forlorn ? 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 
 Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
 Would never from my Heart : no, no, I feel 
 The link of nature draw me : flesh of flesh, 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, Bliss or Woe. 
 
 iLobe. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 AND thou, sweet sprite, whose power doth far extend, 
 
 Smile on the mean historian of thy fame ! 
 My heart in each distress and fear befriend, 
 Nor ever let it feel a fiercer Flame 
 Than Innocence may cherish free from blame, 
 And Hope may nurse, and Sympathy may own : 
 
 For, as thy rights I never would disclaim, 
 But true Allegiance ofler'd to thy throne, 
 So may I love but one, by one beloved alone. 
 
 ILobe, — Byron. 
 TF changing cheek, and scorching Vein, 
 
 Lips taught to writhe, but not complain, 
 If bursting Heart, and madd'ning brain, 
 And daring deed, and vengeful Steel, 
 And all that I have felt, and feel, 
 Betoken Love — that love was mine. 
 
 Ufjbe* — Shakspeare. 
 HTHEN let me go, and hinder not my course : 
 
 I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, 
 And make a Pastime of each weary step, 
 Till the last step has brought me to my Love 
 And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil, 
 A blessed Soul doth in Elysium. 
 
 Hrjbe. — Shakspeare. 
 What Passion hangs these weights upon my Tongue ? 
 I cannot speak to her ; yet she urged Conference. 
 
 llobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Her virtues, graced with external Gifts, 
 Do breed Love's settled passions in my heart. 
 2 a2 
 
300 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Hebe* — Bynm. 
 'THUS Passion's fire and Woman's art 
 
 Can turn and tame the Sterner Heart; 
 From these its form and tone are ta'en, 
 And what they make it, must remain, 
 But break — before it bend again. 
 
 Eobe. — Byron. 
 J DEEM'D that time, I deem'd that Pride, 
 Had quench'd at length my boyish Flame 
 Nor knew, till seated by thy side, 
 My Heart in all, save Hope, the same. 
 
 Itobe* — Shakspeare. 
 \\TE, that are true Lovers, run into strange capers ; but as all 
 is mortal in Nature, so is all Nature in love mortal in Folly. 
 
 ilobe. — Byron. 
 Earth holds no other like to thee, 
 Or if it doth, in vain for me. 
 
 ILobe. — Smth. 
 " T OVE covers a multitude of sins." When a Scar cannot be taken 
 away, the next kind office is to hide it. — Love is never so 
 blind as when it is to spy Faults. 
 
 HO be, — Shakspeare. 
 They love least, that let men know their Love. 
 
 3Lobe* — Shakspeare. 
 T LOVE your son : 
 
 My friends were poor, but honest ; so's my Love. 
 Be not offended ; for it hurts not him, 
 That he is loved of me : I follow him not 
 By any token of presumptuous suit : 
 Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him ; 
 Yet never know how that Desert should be. 
 I know I love in vain, strive against Hope. 
 Yet, in this captious and intenible sieve, 
 I still pour in the waters of my Love, 
 And lack not to lose still. 
 
 Hub?. — Milton. 
 
 Confirm'd then I resolve, 
 Adam shall share with me in Bliss or Wo : 
 So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
 I could endure, without him live no Life. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 301 
 
 That you may be beloved, be amiable. 
 
 Hob?* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TNFIDELITIES ought to extinguish Love, and we should not 
 be jealous, even when we have reason to be so ; it is only per- 
 sons who avoid causing Jealousy who are worth being jealous of. 
 
 11 be. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 GIVE Pity 
 To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose 
 But lend and give, where she is sure to lose ; 
 That seeks not to find that her Search implies, 
 But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she ties. 
 
 Uobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 He says, he loves my Daughter; 
 I think so too ; for never gazed the Moon 
 Upon the water, as he'll stand and read 
 As 'twere my daughter's Eyes : and, to be plain, 
 I think, there is not half a Kiss to choose 
 Who loves another best. 
 
 fifjbe, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T7N VY is destroyed by true Friendship, and Coquetry by true 
 Love. 
 
 ?iobc. — ShaJcspeare. 
 CWEET, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid 
 
 Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold, 
 And, like a Dewdrop from the Lion's mane, 
 Be shook to air. 
 
 Uobe. — Addison. 
 r PHE intelligence of Affection is carried on by the Eye only, 
 good-breeding has made the Tongue falsify the heart, and act 
 a part of continued restraint, while nature has preserved the Eyes 
 to herself, that she may not be disguised or misrepresented. 
 
 HO be, — ShaJcspeare. 
 T OVE is a smoke raised with the fume of Sighs: 
 Being purged, a Fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; 
 Being vext, a Sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; 
 What is it else ? a Madness most discreet, 
 A choking Gall, and a preserving Sweet. 
 
 Hebe.— OreviUe. 
 AS Love will often make a Wise man act like a Fool, so will 
 Interest often make a Fool act like a Wise man. 
 
302 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILabt. — Bulwer. 
 'THERE is so little to redeem the dry mass of Follies and Errors 
 from which the materials of this Life are composed, that any 
 thing to love or to reverence becomes, as it were, the Sabbath for 
 the mind. 
 
 Unbe. — Tucker. 
 T~ OVE, peculiarly so called, must always centre in a single ob- 
 ject, because that thorough coincidence of interests and par- 
 ticipation of pleasures necessary to render it perfect, cannot obtain 
 between more than two persons. Friendship may take in a little 
 larger compass, but can extend only to a few chosen objects; the 
 friendships recorded in history have always run in pairs, as between 
 Theseus and Pirithous, Orestes and Pylades, Scipio and Lelius, 
 Cicero and Atticus. 
 
 ILcbe. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, 'tis the curse in Love, and still approved, 
 When Women cannot love where they're beloved 
 
 Hob?. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Too light winning 
 Makes the Prize light. 
 
 HO be. — Byron. 
 !E cold in Clime are cold in Blood, 
 And love as scarce deserves the name; 
 But mine is like the Lava flood 
 
 That burns in Etna's breast of Flame. 
 
 ?i.0be. — Terence. 
 TF indeed you can keep to your Resolution, you will act a noble 
 and a manly part : but if, when you have set about it, your 
 Courage fails you, and you make a voluntary Submission, acknow- 
 ledging the violence of your Passion, and your inability to hold 
 out any longer, all is over with you; you are undone, and may go 
 hang yourself; she will insult over you, when she finds you her 
 Slave. 
 
 Hub?. — Greville. 
 HPHE poets judged like Philosophers, when they feigned Love to 
 be Blind; how often do we see in a Woman what our judg- 
 ment and taste approve, and yet feel nothing toward her; how 
 often what they both condemn, and yet feel a great deal ! 
 
 ?1 b C. — Sh akspeare. 
 She stripp'd it from her arm ; I see her yet ; 
 Her pretty Action did outsell her gift, 
 And yet enrich' d it too. 
 
 'jh: 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 303 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 T/'IND is my Love to-day, to-morrow kind, 
 
 Still constant in a wondrous Excellence ; 
 Fair, Kind, and True, have often lived alone, 
 Which three, till now, never kept seat in one. 
 
 1L b $ . — Shakspea re. 
 Men's vows are women's Traitors ! 
 
 3Ldbe. — Shakspeare. 
 There's beggary in the Love that can be reckon'd. 
 
 Uobe. — Greville. 
 C^x\SUAL disagreements have been considered as springs that 
 give new force to Love ; and I believe they are so ; yet as a 
 spring too frequently or too forcibly used, remains at the place to 
 which it is drawn back instead of flying forward; so Lovers will 
 find, that disagreements, if they are too frequent, will at length 
 lose their Elasticity and impel to Love no more. 
 
 HfJ be. — Shakspeare. 
 
 I will be gone : 
 My being here it is, that keeps thee hence : 
 Shall I stay here? No, no, although 
 The air of Paradise did fan the house, 
 And Angels oflBced all. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Lovers break not hours, 
 Unless it be to come before their time; 
 So much they spur their Expedition. 
 
 ilObe. — Terence. 
 TT is possible that a man can be so changed by Love, that one 
 could not recognise him to be the same person. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Admired Miranda! 
 Indeed, the top of Admiration ; worth 
 What's dearest to the world ! full many a Lady 
 I've eyed with best regard, and many a time 
 Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage 
 Brought my too diligent Ear; for several virtues 
 Have I liked sev'ral Women, never any 
 With so full soul, but some defect in her 
 Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, 
 And put it to the foil. But you, you, 
 So perfect, and so peerless, are created 
 Of every Creature's best. 
 
304 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 yLobt. — Colton. 
 T'HE plainest man that can convince a Woman that he is reaky 
 in Love with her, has done more to make her in Love with 
 him than the handsomest man, if he can produce no such convic- 
 tion. For the Love of Woman is a shoot, not a seed, and flourishes 
 most vigorously only when ingrafted on that Love which is rooted 
 in the breast of another. 
 
 ilobe. — Shakspeare. 
 To be wise, and Love, 
 Exceeds Man's might. 
 
 Hobe*— Hume. 
 
 T\^HEN a person is once heartily in Love, the little faults and 
 caprices of his Mistress, the jealousies and quarrels to which 
 that Commerce is so subject, however unpleasant they be, and 
 rather connected with Anger and Hatred, are yet to be found, in 
 many instances, to give additional force to the prevailing Passion. 
 
 Hob?. — Middleton. 
 The treasures of the deep are not so precious 
 As are the conceal'd Comforts of a man 
 Lock'd up in Woman's Love. 
 
 ILobtf. — SJiakspeare. 
 Wish chastely, and love dearly. 
 
 HO be. — Laberius. 
 r FO be in Love, and at the same time to act wisely, is scarcely 
 within the Power of a god. 
 
 3Lobe. — Shakspeare. 
 T)TDST thou but know the inly touch of Love, 
 
 Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow, 
 As seek to quench the fire of Love with words. 
 I do not seek to quench your Love's hot fire, 
 But qualify the Fire's extreme rage, 
 Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. 
 The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns ; 
 The current that with gentle murmur glides, 
 Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; 
 But, when his fair course is not hinder'd, 
 He makes sweet Music with the enamell'd stones, 
 Giving a gentle Kiss to every sedge 
 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; 
 And so by many winding nooks he strays, 
 With willing sport, to the wild Ocean. 
 
0R, m THINGS NEW AND OLD. 305 
 
 Hobe. — Erasmus. 
 TOVE, that has nothing but Beauty to keep it in good health, is 
 short-lived. 
 
 Hobe.— Burton. 
 "V"0 Cord or Cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as Love 
 can do with only a single Thread. 
 
 llO be. — Shakspeare. 
 The expedition of my violent Love 
 Out-ran the pauser Reason. 
 
 Uobe. — La Fontaine. 
 C\ LOVE, when thou gettest Dominion over us, we may bid good- 
 by to Prudence. 
 
 Uobe. — Milton. 
 Smiles from reason flow, to Brutes denied, 
 And are of Love the food. 
 
 ILO be. — Shakspeare. 
 Bashful sincerity, and comely Love. 
 
 Hebe. — Goldsmith. 
 T OVE, when founded in the Heart, will show itself in a thousand 
 unpremeditated sallies of Fondness; but every cool deliberate 
 exhibition of the Passions only argues little understanding or great 
 Insincerity. 
 
 Hobe. — Fuller. 
 A FFECTIONS, like the Conscience, are rather to be led than 
 drawn ; and 'tis to be feared, they that marry where they do not 
 love, will love where they do not marry. 
 
 llobe. — Shakspeare. 
 C\ SPIRIT of Love, how quick and fresh art thou ! 
 
 That, notwithstanding thy capacity, 
 Receiveth as the Sea, naught enters there, 
 Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 
 But falls into abatement and low price, 
 Even in a minute ! so full of Shapes is Fancy 
 That it alone is high-fantastical. 
 
 Hobe. — Dry den. 
 1 ET Grace and Goodness be the principal loadstone of thy Affec- 
 tions. For Love which hath ends, will have an end ; whereas 
 that which is founded on true Virtue, will always continue. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 Let me but bear your Love, I'll bear your Cares 
 20 
 
306 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Wjfot.—SamUe. 
 
 JT is as false to play with Fire as to dally with Gallantry. Love 
 is a passion that hath friends in the garrison, and for that reason 
 must by a Woman be kept, at such a distance, that she may not 
 be within the danger of doing the most usual thing in the world, 
 which is conspiring against herself: else the humble Gallant, 
 who is only admitted as a trophy, very often becometh the con- 
 queror; he putteth on the style of Victory, and from an admirer 
 groweth into a Master, for so he may be called from the moment 
 he is in possession. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 T)OUBT thou, the stars are Fire ; 
 
 Doubt, that the Sun doth move : 
 Doubt Truth to be a Liar ; 
 
 But never doubt, I love. 
 
 \\ 
 
 HO UC. — Valerius Maximus. 
 THERE there exists the most ardent and true Love, it is often 
 better to be united in Death than separated in Life. 
 
 3L0 be* — Mrs. Cowley. 
 'THE woman that has not touched the Heart of a man, before he 
 leads her to the Altar, has scarcely a chance to charm it, when 
 Possession and Security turn their powerful arms against her. 
 
 HO be. — Colton. 
 QORPOREAL charms may indeed gain admirers, but there must 
 be mental ones to retain them ) and Horace had a delicate 
 feeling of this, when he refused to restrict the Pleasures of the 
 Lover merely to his eyes, but added also those of the Ear. 
 Qui sedens identidem, te 
 Spectat et audit I 
 
 %ffot. — Plautus. 
 ~V\THERE Love has once obtained influence, any Seasoning, I 
 believe, will please. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 My Love is thaw'd ; 
 Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a Fire, 
 Bears no impression of the thing it was. 
 
 Hobe. — Slienstone. 
 T OVE can be founded upon Nature only, or the appearance of it, 
 for this reason \ however a peruke may tend to soften the 
 human features, it can very seldom make amends for the mixture 
 of Artifice which it discovers. 
 
 .-J 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 307 
 
 3Ldbe» — Shakspeare. 
 Dost thou love Pictures ? we will fetch thee strait 
 Adonis, painted by a running brook ; 
 And Citherea all in sedges hid ; 
 Which seem to move, and wanton with her Breath, 
 Ev'n as the waving Sedges play with wind. 
 
 it be, - - Lavater. 
 T OVE sees what no eye sees ; Love hears what no ear hears ; 
 and what never rose in the heart of man Love prepares for its 
 object. 
 
 ?i.0be. — Shakspeare. 
 She bids you, 
 All on the wanton Rushes lay you down, 
 And rest your gentle Head upon her lap, 
 And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, 
 And on your eyelids crown the (rod of sleep, 
 Charming your Blood with pleasing heaviness; 
 Making such difference betwixt wake and sleep, 
 As is the difference betwixt day and night, 
 The hour before the heavenly-harness' d team 
 Begins his Golden progress in the east. 
 
 Uube. — La Brinjere. 
 T1TE never love heartily but once, and that is the first time we 
 love. Succeeding inclinations are less involuntary. 
 
 !4rbe*— Cotton. 
 
 TT is a dangerous experiment to call in Gratitude as an ally to 
 Love. Love is a debt, which inclination always pays, obliga- 
 tion never; and the moment it becomes luke-warm and evanescent, 
 reminiscences on the score of Gratitude serve only to smother the 
 flame. 
 
 itobc, — Shakspeare. 
 
 It were all one 
 That I should love a bright particular Star, 
 And think to wed it; he is so above me : 
 In his bright Radiance and collateral light 
 Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. 
 Th' ambition in my Love thus plagues itself; 
 The hind, that would be mated by the Lion, 
 Must die for Love. 
 
 II be, — Colton. 
 T OVE is an alliance of Friendship and of Lust; if the former 
 predominate, it is a Passion exalted and refined, but if the 
 latter, gross and sensual. 
 
 2B 
 
308 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 llfibe.— Addison. 
 T>IDICULE, perhaps, is a better expedient against Love, than 
 sober advice; and I am of opinion, that Hudibras and Don 
 Quixote may be as effectual to cure the extravagancies of this 
 Passion, as any one of the old philosophers. 
 
 Hob**— Shakspeare. 
 
 TF music be the food of Love, play on ; 
 Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, 
 
 The appetite may sicken, and so die. 
 
 That strain again ; it had a dying fall : 
 Oh, it came o'er my Ear like the sweet south 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and giving Odour. 
 
 ILobc. — Shakspeare. 
 Tell this youth what 'tis to Love. — 
 It is to be all made of Sighs and Tears ; • 
 It is to be all made of Faith and Service : — 
 It is to be all made of Fantasy, 
 All made of Passion, and all made of wishes; 
 All Adoration, Duty, and Observance, 
 All Humbleness, all Patience, and Impatience, 
 All Purity, all Trial, all Observance. 
 
 ILobe. — Addison. 
 'THE pleasantest part of a man's life is generally that which 
 passes in Courtship, provided his Passion be sincere, and the 
 party beloved kind with Discretion. Love, Desire, Hope, all the 
 pleasing motions of the Soul, rise in the pursuit. 
 
 2Lobc. — Hawhesivorth. 
 A S Love without Esteem is volatile and capricious ; Esteem 
 without Love is languid and cold. 
 
 Edbe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Love is like a Child, 
 That longs for every thing that he can come by. 
 
 Itobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Leave you your power to draw, 
 And I shall have no Power to follow you. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 TF ever (as that ever may be near) 
 
 You meet in some fresh cheek the power of Fancy, 
 Then shall you know the Wounds invisible 
 That Love's keen Arrows make. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 309 
 
 Hobe. _ Sir Philip Sidney. 
 'TRUE Love can no more be diminished by showers of evil than 
 Flowers are marred by timely Rains. 
 
 HO be, — Euripides. 
 That Love alone, which Virtue's laws control, 
 Deserves reception in the human Soul. 
 
 Hdbe. — Terence. 
 
 A LL these inconveniences are incidents to Love : Reproaches, 
 
 Jealousies, Quarrels, Reconcilements, War, and then Peace. 
 
 HO be. — Colton. 
 T OVE may exist without Jealousy, although this is rare; but 
 Jealousy may exist without Love, and this is common. 
 
 Hobe.— Shakspeare. 
 
 you leaden messengers, 
 That ride upon the violent speed of Fire, 
 Fly with false aim : move the still-piercing air, 
 That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord ! 
 
 Hobe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\ r E always dread the sight of the person we Love when we 
 have been coquetting elsewhere. 
 
 IlO be. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Time, Force, and Death, 
 Do to this body what extremes you can : 
 But the strong base and building of my Love 
 Is as the very centre of the Earth, 
 Drawing all things to it. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 T LEAVE myself, my friends, and all for Love. 
 
 Thou, thou hast metamorphosed me; 
 Made me neglect my Studies, lose my time, 
 War with good Counsel, set the world at naught ; 
 Made wit with musing weak ; Heart sick with thought. 
 
 H b e ♦ — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A MAN of sense may Love like a Madman, but never like a 
 
 Fool. 
 
 Hobe. — Shakspeare. 
 How silver-sweet sound Lovers' tongues by night, 
 Like softest music to attending ears ! 
 
310 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ?i0be. — Shakspeare. 
 X HAVE done penance for contemning Love; 
 
 Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me 
 With bitter fasts, with penitential groans; 
 With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs. 
 For, in revenge of my contempt of Love, 
 Love hath chased Sleep from my enthralled Eyes, 
 And made them watchers of mine own Heart's Sorrow. 
 gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty lord; 
 And hath so humbled me, as I confess, 
 There is no wo to his correction ; 
 Nor to his service, no such Joy on earth. 
 Now no discourse, except it be of Love ; 
 Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep 
 Upon the very naked name of Love. 
 
 3Lobe. — La Relne de Navarre. 
 TT is said that Jealousy is Love, but I deny it; for though 
 Jealousy be produced by Love, as Ashes are by Fire, yet Jea- 
 lousy extinguishes Love as Ashes smother the Flame. 
 
 ILobe* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 In Jealousy there is more self-love than Love. 
 
 Uobe. — Sterne. 
 TT is sweet to feel by what fine-spun threads our Affections are 
 drawn together. 
 
 ILobc. — Shakspeare. 
 The gifts, she looks from me, are pack'd and lock'd 
 Up in my Heart; which I have given already, 
 But not deliver'd. 
 
 Uobe. — Shakspeare. 
 We cannot fight for Love, as men may do ; 
 We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. 
 
 3Lobe* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A LL the Passions make us commit faults, but Love makes us 
 commit the most ridiculous ones. 
 
 Itdbe. — Goethe. 
 Hate makes us vehement partisans, but Love still more so. 
 
 3!cbe. — Shakspeare. 
 Love 
 Will creep in Service where it cannot go. 
 
 Hob?. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 We forgive so long as we love. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 311 
 
 iLobc. — ShaJcspeare. 
 HARD-BELIEVING Love ! how strange it seems 
 
 Not to believe, and jet too credulous ! 
 Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes. 
 Despair and Hope make thee Ridiculous ! 
 The one doth natter thee, in thoughts unlikely, 
 With likely Thoughts, the other kills thee quickly. 
 
 Uobe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TPIE pleasure of Love is in loving. We are happier in the 
 Passion we feel than in that we excite. 
 
 Uobe. — Slidkspeare. 
 
 If the measure of thy Joy 
 Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more 
 To blazon it, then sweeten with thy Breath 
 This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue 
 Unfold the imagined Happiness, that both 
 Receive in either by this dear encounter. 
 
 lL0ue. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Oh my soul's joy ! 
 If after every Tempest come such calms, 
 May the wind blow till they have waken'd Death ! 
 And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, 
 Olympus-high ; and duck again as low 
 As Hell's from Heaven ! If it were now to die, 
 'Twere now to be most happy ) for, I fear, 
 My soul hath her content so absolute, 
 That not another Comfort like to this 
 Succeeds in unknown fate. 
 
 Ho be — ffadm. 
 
 TT makes us proud when our love of a mistress is returned ; it 
 ought to make us prouder still when we can love her for herself 
 alone, without the aid of any such selfish reflection. This is the 
 Religion of Love. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 TF thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully : 
 
 Or if you think I am too quickly won, 
 Fll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay, 
 So thou wilt woo : but, else, not for the World. 
 
 ?Lobc. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 JT is difficult to define Love. All that we can say of it is, that 
 in the Soul it is a passion for reigning ; in Minds it is a sym- 
 pathy; and in the Body it is nothing but a "latent ana delicate 
 Desire to possess the loved object. 
 
 2e2 
 
'612 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Itobc La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 T OVE, like Fire, cannot subsist without continual movement; 
 as soon as it ceases to hope and fear, it ceases to exist. 
 
 Ucbe.— Eazlitt. 
 It is better to desire than to enjoy, to love than to be loved. 
 
 Hobe. — SJiakspeare. 
 HPHE course of true Love never did run smooth ; 
 
 But, either, it was different in Blood — 
 Or else misgraffed, in respect of Years — 
 Or else it stood upon the choice of Friends — 
 Or if there were a sympathy in choice, 
 War, Death, or Sickness did lay siege to it ; 
 Making it momentary as a sound, 
 Swift as a Shadow, short as any Dream, 
 Brief as the lightning in the collied night, 
 That (in a spleen) unfolds both Heav'n and Earth ; 
 And ere a man hath power to say, Behold ! 
 The jaws of Darkness do devour it up; 
 So quick bright things come to confusion. 
 
 Hob?. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THERE is no Disguise which can long conceal Love where it 
 does, or feign where it does not, exist. 
 
 itfto*— JeanTM, 
 
 T^RIENDSHIP requires Actions : Love requires not so much 
 proofs, as Expressions of Love. Love demands little else than 
 the power to feel and to requite Love. 
 
 Eobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Love is not Love, 
 Which alters when it alteration finds ; 
 
 Or bends, with the remover to remove : 
 Oh no ! it is an ever-fixed mark, 
 
 That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; 
 It is the Star to every wandering bark, 
 
 Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 
 Love's not Time's fool, though rosy Lips and Cheeks 
 
 Within his bending sickle's compass come : 
 Love alters not with his brief Hours and Weeks, 
 
 But bears it out even to the edge of Doom. 
 
 2Lcbc. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT is with true Love as with Apparitions. Every one talks of it, 
 but few have ever seen it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 313 
 
 ?Lobe. — Anon. 
 A LL tatlers delight in getting hold of any thing akin to a Love 
 Story ; not merely from a fondness for scandal, but because 
 the most powerful and pleasurable of human Feelings is in some 
 measure awakened and excited thereby. 
 
 ILobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Bind up those tresses ; Oh, what Love I note 
 Tn the fair multitude of those her hairs ; 
 Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall'n, 
 Even to that drop ten thousand wiery Friends 
 Do glew themselves in sociable Grief; 
 Like true, inseparable, faithful Loves, 
 Sticking together in Calamity. 
 
 Hobe. — ShaJcspeare. 
 F SWEAR to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ; 
 
 By his best Arrow with the golden head, 
 By the simplicity of Venus' doves, 
 By that, which knitteth Souls, and prospers Loves; 
 And by that fire which burn'd the Carthage Queen, 
 When the false Trojan under sail was seen; 
 By all the Vows that ever men have broke, 
 In number more than ever Women spoke ; 
 In that same place thou hast appointed me, 
 To-morrow truly will I meet with thee. 
 
 HO be. — ShaJcspeare. 
 QH, how this spring of Love resembleth 
 The uncertain glory of an April day ; 
 Which now shows all the beauty of the Sun, 
 And by and by a Cloud takes all away. 
 
 3Lobc. — La RocJiefoucauld. 
 1VTEN are almost equally difficult to satisfy, when they have very 
 much Love, and when they have scarcely any left. 
 
 HO be. — Byron. 
 In her first passion woman loves her Lover, 
 In all the others what she loves, is Love. 
 
 Hobe. — SJiakspeare. 
 Farewell; one Eye yet looks on thee, 
 
 But with my heart the other Eye doth see. 
 
 Ah, poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, 
 The error of our Eye directs our mind. 
 What error leads, must err ; Oh then conclude, 
 Minds sway'd by Eyes are full of turpitude. 
 
314 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Eobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Love's heralds should be thoughts, 
 "Which ten times faster glide than the Sun's beams, 
 Driving back Shadows over Wring hills : 
 Therefore do nimble-pinion'd Doves draw Love, 
 And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. 
 
 ILobe. — Ovid. 
 T ET him who does not choose to be considered a lazy Fellow 
 fall in Love. 
 
 3i.0be* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "V^TOMEN often fancy themselves in Love even when they are 
 not. The occupation of an Intrigue, the emotion of mind 
 which Gallantry produces, the natural leaning to the pleasure of 
 being loved, and the pain of refusing, persuade them that they 
 feel the passion of Love, when in reality they feel nothing but 
 Coquetry. 
 
 HO b$. — Shakspeare. 
 Love like a Shadow flies, when substance Love pursues; 
 Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues. 
 
 Hota—- Shakspeare, 
 
 HTHINGS base and vile, holding no quantity, 
 
 Love can transpose to form and Dignity. 
 Love looks not with the Eyes, but with the mind ; 
 And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind ; 
 Nor hath Love's mind of any Judgment taste ; 
 "Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy Haste : 
 And therefore is Love said to be a child, 
 Because in choice he is so oft beguiled. 
 As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, 
 So the boy Love is perjured everywhere. 
 
 ILobtf. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT is impossible to love a second time what we have once really 
 ceased to love. 
 
 HO be. — Colton. 
 "pMENDSHIP often ends in Love; but Love, in Friendship — 
 never. 
 
 ?Lob£. — Shakspeare. 
 TELL me, where is Fancy bred, 
 
 Or in the Heart, or in the Head ? 
 How begot, how nourished ? 
 It is engender' d in the eyes, 
 With gazing fed ; and Fancy dies 
 In the Cradle where it lies. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 315 
 
 11 be, — Shalcspeare. 
 They do not love, that do not show their Love. 
 
 ft be, — Cotton. 
 A GE and Love associate not : if they are ever allied, the firmer the 
 Friendship, the more fatal is its termination ; and an old man, 
 like a Spider, can never make Love, without beating his own death- 
 watch. 
 
 ILobe, — Cotton. 
 T OVE is an alchymist that can transmute Poison into food — and 
 a Spaniel, that prefers even Punishment from one hand, to 
 caresses from another. But it is in Love, as in War, we are often 
 more indebted for our success to the weakness of the defence, than 
 to the energy of the attack ; for mere Idleness has ruined more 
 women than Passion, Vanity more than Idleness, and Credulity 
 more than either. 
 
 ?idbe. — Stialcspcare. 
 f\ MOST potential Love ! vow, bond, nor space, 
 In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, 
 For thou art all, and all things else are thine. 
 
 When thou impressest, what are Precepts worth 
 Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame, 
 How coldly those impediments stand forth 
 Of Wealth, of filial Fear, Law, Kindred, Fame ? 
 Love's arms are Peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst 
 
 shame ; 
 And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, 
 The Aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. 
 
 Eube*— Byron. 
 r)UIlS too the Glance none saw beside ; 
 
 The Smile none else might understand ; 
 The whisper' d Thought of hearts allied, 
 The pressure of the thrilling hand. 
 
 Uobe. — Moore. 
 'THE time I've lost in wooing, 
 In watchiDg and pursuing 
 
 The Light, that lies 
 
 In woman's Eyes, 
 Has been my Heart's undoing. 
 Tho' Wisdom oft has sought me, 
 I scorn'd the Love she brought me, 
 
 My only books 
 
 Were woman's looks, 
 And Folly's all they've taught me. 
 
316 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Uobe* — Moore. 
 T COULD have loved you — oh so well -, — 
 The dream, that wishing boyhood knows, 
 Is but a bright, beguiling Spell, 
 
 Which only lives, while Passion glows : 
 But, when this early flush declines, 
 
 When the Heart's vivid morning fleets, 
 You know not then how close it twines 
 
 Round the first kindred soul it meets ! 
 Yes, yes, I could have loved, as one 
 
 Who, while his youth's enchantments fall, 
 Finds something dear to rest upon, 
 Which pays him for the Loss of all ! 
 HClbe. — Shakspeare. 
 Love's counsellors should fill the bores of hearing, 
 To the smothering of the Sense. 
 
 HO be. — Shakspeare. 
 Violent delights have violent ends, 
 And in their Triumph die ; like fire and powder, 
 Which, as they kiss, consume : the sweetest Honey 
 Is loathsome in his own Deliciousness, 
 And in the taste confounds the appetite : 
 Therefore, love moderately ; long Love doth so, 
 Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 
 
 3Lobe. — Byron. 
 THEN there were Sighs the deeper for suppression, 
 
 And stolen Glances, sweeter for the theft, 
 And burning Blushes, though for no transgression, 
 Trembling, when met, and restlessness when left. 
 
 ILcbtf. — Moore. 
 A LAS — how light a cause may move 
 
 Dissension between Hearts that love ! 
 Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 
 And sorrow but more closely tied; 
 That stood the Storm, when waves were rough, 
 Yet in a sunny hour fall off, 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea, 
 When Heaven was all tranquillity. 
 
 ILobe* — Prior. 
 Love, well thou know'st no partnership allows : 
 Cupid averse rejects divided Vows. 
 
 Hcb£. — Byron. 
 To me she gave her Heart, that all 
 Which Tyranny can ne'er enthrall. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 317 
 
 Uobe. — Byron. 
 
 XTOR was all Love shut from him, though his days 
 Of passion had consumed themselves to dust. 
 
 It is in vain that we would coldly gaze 
 
 On such that smile upon us; the Heart must 
 Leap kindly back to kindness, though disgust 
 
 Hath wean'd it from all worldlings : thus he felt ; 
 For there was soft Remembrance, and sweet trust, 
 
 In one fond Breast, to which his own would melt, 
 
 And in its tenderer hour on that his Bosom dwelt. 
 
 Hob**— Byron. 
 
 "ftf ONE are all evil — quickening round his heart, 
 
 One softer feeling would not yet depart ; 
 Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled 
 By Passions worthy of a fool or child; 
 Yet 'gainst that passion vainly still he strove. 
 And even in him it asks the name of Love ! 
 Yes, it was Love — unchangeable — unchanged, 
 Felt but for one from whom he never ranged ; 
 Though fairest captives daily met his eye, 
 He shunn'd, not sought, but coldly pass'd them by ; 
 Though many a Beauty droop'd in prison'd bower, 
 None ever sooth'd his most unguarded hour. 
 Yes — it was Love — if thoughts of tenderness, 
 Tried in temptation strengthened by distress, 
 Unmoved by Absence, firm in every clime, 
 And yet — Oh more than all ! untired by time ; 
 Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile, 
 Could render sullen were she near to smile ; 
 Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent 
 On her one murmur of his discontent ; 
 Which still would meet with joy, with calmness part, 
 Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart ; 
 Which naught removed, nor menaced to remove — • 
 If there be Love in mortals — this was Love ! 
 
 Ho be, — Higgons. 
 T OVE is that passion which refines the Soul ; 
 
 First made men Heroes, and those heroes Gods; 
 Its genial fires inform the sluggish mass ; 
 The rugged soften, and the tim'rous warm ; 
 Gives wit to Fools, and manners to the Clown : 
 The rest of life is an ignoble calm ; 
 The soul unmoved by Love's inspiring breath, 
 Like lazy waters stagnates and corrupts. 
 
318 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 yLtiKZ. — Dryden. 
 T FIND she loves him much because she hides it. 
 
 Love teaches cunning even to Innocence ; 
 And where he gets possession, his first work 
 Is to dig deep within a Heart, and there 
 Lie hid, and like a Miser in the dark, 
 To feast alone. 
 
 %^t.—Dryden. 
 'THERE is no satiety of Love in thee ; 
 
 Enjoy'd, thou still art new : Perpetual spring 
 Is in thy arms ; the ripen'd Fruit but falls, 
 And blossoms rise to fill its empty place, 
 And I grow rich by giving. 
 
 Hobe. — Otway. 
 T HAD so fix'd my Heart upon her, 
 
 That wheresoe'er I framed a scheme of life 
 For time to come, she was my only joy, 
 With which I used to sweeten future cares : 
 I fancied Pleasures, none but one who loves 
 And doats as I did, can imagine like them. 
 
 Uobe, —Dryden. 
 T OVE gives Esteem, and then he gives Desert; 
 
 He either finds equality, or makes it : 
 Like Death, he knows no difference in degrees, 
 But planes and levels all. 
 
 Hobe. — Addison. 
 T OVE is not to be reason' d down, or lost 
 
 In high Ambition, or a thirst of Greatness : 
 'Tis second life, it grows into the soul. 
 Warms every vein, and beats in every pulse : 
 I feel it here : my Resolution melts. 
 
 flobe. — Addison. 
 When Love's well-timed, 'tis not a fault to love : 
 The Strong, the Brave) the Virtuous, and the Wise, 
 Sink in the soft captivity together. 
 
 Eobe» —Milton. 
 TN loving thou dost well, in passion not, 
 
 Wherein true Love consists not ; Love refines 
 The thoughts, and Heart enlarges, hath its seat 
 In Reason, and is judicious, is the scale 
 By which to Heavenly love thou may'st ascend, 
 Not sunk in carnal Pleasure, for which cause 
 Among the beasts no mate for thee was found. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 319 
 
 IrObe.— Byron. 
 
 All the stars of Heaven, 
 The deep blue noon of night, lit by an orb 
 Which looks a spirit, or a spirit's world — 
 The hues of Twilight — the sun's gorgeous coming — 
 His setting indescribable, which fills 
 My eyes with pleasant tears as I behold 
 Him sink, and feel my heart float softly with him 
 Along the western paradise of clouds — 
 The forest shade — the green bough — the bird's voice, 
 The vesper bird's, which seems to sing of love, 
 And mingles with the song of Cherubim, 
 As the day closes over Eden's walls ; — 
 All these are nothing, to my eyes and Heart 
 
 Like 's face : I turn from Earth to Heaven 
 
 To gaze on it. 
 
 ?L0be.— Young. 
 r\H the soft commerce ! Oh the tender ties, 
 Close-twisted with the fibres of the heart ! 
 Which, broken, break them \ and drain ofi" the Soul 
 Of human Joy; and make it pain to live — 
 And is it then to live ? when such Friends part, 
 'Tis the survivor dies. 
 
 IlO be.— Mrs. Tight. 
 
 (~)H, who art thou who darest of Love complain? 
 He is a gentle Spirit and injures none ! 
 
 His foes are ours ; from them the bitter Pain, 
 
 The keen deep Anguish, the heart-rending Groan, 
 Which in his milder reign are never known. 
 
 His Fears are softer than the April showers, 
 White-handed Innocence supports his throne ; 
 
 His Sighs are sweet as breath of earliest Flowers, 
 
 Affection guides his steps, and Peace protects his bowers. 
 
 Hobe. — Spenser. 
 "YyONDER it is to see in diverse mindes 
 
 How diversely Love doth his pageaunts play, 
 And shewes his Powre in variable kindes : 
 The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway 
 Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, 
 It stirreth up to sensuall Desire 
 And in lewd slouth to waste his carelesse day ; 
 But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fire, 
 That to all high Desert and Honour doth aspire 
 2C 
 
320 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Uobe. — Lord Lyttelton. 
 None without Hope e'er loved tbe brightest fair; 
 But Love can hope where Reason would despair. 
 
 Hob*,— Byron. 
 
 "VES, Love indeed is light from Heaven, 
 
 A spark of that immortal fire 
 With Angels shared, by Alia given, 
 
 To lift from Earth our low desire. 
 Devotion wafts the mind above, 
 
 But Heaven itself descends in Love ; 
 A feeling from the Godhead caught, 
 
 To wean from self each sordid thought \ 
 A ray of Him who form'd the whole ; 
 
 A glory circling round the Soul ! 
 
 Uobe. — Spenser. 
 
 "VT AUGHT under heaven so strongly doth allure 
 The sence of man and all his minde possesse, 
 
 As Beautie's lovely baite, that doth procure 
 Great Warriours oft their rigour to represse, 
 And mighty hands to forget their Manlinesse, 
 
 Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye, 
 And wrapt in fetters of a golden Tresse, 
 
 That can with melting pleasaunce mollifye 
 
 Their harden'd Hearts enured to bloud and cruelty. 
 
 ft be, — Young. 
 Art thou not dearer to my eyes than light ? 
 Dost thou not circulate thro' all my veins, 
 Mingle with Life, and form my very Soul ? 
 
 Uobe.— Byron. 
 C\ LOVE ! what is it in this world of ours 
 
 Which makes it fatal to be loved ? Ah, why 
 With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, 
 And made thy best interpreter a sigh ? 
 
 ILobe* — Spenser. 
 
 (TJ.REAT enimy to it, and to all the rest 
 That in the Gardin of Adonis springs, 
 
 Is wicked Time, who with his scyth addrest, 
 
 Does mow the flowring herbes and goodly things, 
 And all their glory to the ground downe flings, 
 
 Where they do wither, and are fowly mard : 
 He flyes about, and with his flaggy wings 
 
 Beates downe both Leaves and Buds without regard 
 
 Ne ever pitty may relent his Malice hard. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 321 
 
 ?L0be. — Young. 
 "\X r HO never Loved ne'er suffered ; he feels nothing, 
 
 Who nothing feels but for himself alone ; 
 And when we feel for others, Reason reels 
 O'erloaded, from her path, and Man runs mad. 
 
 Uobe. — Spenser. 
 'TRUE he it said, whatever man it sayd, 
 
 That Love with Gall and Hony doth abound ; 
 But if the one be with the other wayd, 
 For every dram of Hony therein found 
 A pound of Gall doth over it redound. 
 
 HO be. — Spenser. 
 
 r THE joyes of Love, if they should ever last 
 Without affliction or Disquietnesse, 
 
 That worldly chances do among them cast, 
 Would be on Earth too great a blessednesse 
 Liker to Heaven than mortal wretchednesse ; 
 
 Therefore the winged God, to let men weet 
 That here on Earth is no sure happinesse, 
 
 A thousand sowres hath tempted with one sweet, 
 
 To make it seem more deare and dainty, as is meet. 
 
 Uube.— Butter. 
 "POR what can earth produce, but Love 
 
 To represent the joys above ? 
 Or who but lovers can converse, 
 Like Angels, by the eye discourse ? 
 Address and compliment by vision j 
 Make Love and court by Intuition. 
 
 Uobe. — Prior. 
 f\ MIGHTY Love ! from thy unbounded power 
 
 How shall the human bosom rest secure ? 
 How shall our thought avoid the various snare ? 
 Or wisdom to our caution'd Soul declare 
 The different shapes thou pleasest to employ, 
 When bent to hurt, and certain to destroy ? 
 
 Uobe. — Young. 
 
 Not all the pride of Beauty ; 
 Those eyes, that tell us what the Sun is made of; 
 Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with Life ; 
 Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt : 
 All these possest are naught, but as they are 
 The proof, the substance of an inward passion, 
 And the rich plunder of a taken Heart. 
 21 
 
3*22 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe, — Young. 
 TF Love were endless, Men were Gods; 'tis that 
 
 Does counterbalance travail, danger, pain, — 
 'Tis Heaven's expedient to make mortals bear 
 The light, and cheat them of the peaceful Grave. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 'THE more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns; 
 The current, that with gentle murmur glides, 
 Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; 
 But, when his fair course is not hinder'd, 
 He makes sweet Music with the enamell'd stones, 
 Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
 He overtaketh in his Pilgrimage. 
 
 It0b$4 — Shakspeare. 
 OH how this spring of Love resembleth 
 
 The uncertain Glory of an April day ; 
 Which now shows all the beauty of the Sun, 
 And by and by a Cloud takes all away ! 
 
 Hob?* — Moore. 
 (")H magic of Love ! unembellish'd by you, 
 
 Has the garden a blush or the herbage a hue ? 
 Or blooms there a prospect in Nature or Art, 
 Like the vista that shines through the eye to the Heart ? 
 
 3Lobe* — Scott. 
 
 TN peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; 
 In War, he mounts the warrior's steed; 
 In halls, in gay attire is seen ; 
 In hamlets, dances on the green. 
 Love rules the Court, the Camp, the Grove, 
 And Men below, and Saints above; 
 For Love is Heaven, and Heaven is Love. 
 
 Uobe, — Scott. 
 
 'TRUE Love's the gift which God hath given 
 
 To man alone beneath the Heaven ! 
 It is not Fantasy's hot fire, 
 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; 
 It liveth not in fierce Desire, 
 
 With dead Desire it doth not die ; 
 It is the secret Sympathy, 
 The Silver link, the Silken tie, 
 Which Heart to Heart, and Mind to Mind, 
 In Body and in Soul can bind. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 323 
 
 ILobe. — Burns. 
 
 OH happy Love ! where Love like this is found ! 
 Oh heartfelt raptures ! Bliss beyond compare ! 
 
 I've paced much this weary mortal round, 
 And sage Experience bids me this declare — 
 "If Heaven a draught of heavenly Pleasure spare, 
 
 One cordial in this melancholy vale, 
 
 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, 
 
 In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, 
 
 Beneath the milk-white Thorn that scents the evening gale." 
 
 Eobe.— Prior. 
 /")H impotent estate of human life! 
 
 Where Hope and Fear maintain eternal strife ; 
 Where fleeting Joy does lasting Doubt inspire ; 
 And most we question what we most desire ! 
 Among thy various gifts, great Heaven, bestow 
 Our cup of Love unmix'd ; forbear to throw 
 Bitter ingredients in ; nor pall the draught 
 With nauseous grief: for our ill-judging thought 
 Hardly enjoys the pleasurable taste; 
 Or deem'd it not sincere; or fears it cannot last. 
 
 Uobe. — Byron. 
 T OVE bears within its breast the very germ 
 
 Of change ; and how should this be otherwise ? 
 That violent things more quickly fiud a term 
 
 Is shown through Nature's whole analogies : 
 And how should the most fierce of all be firm ? 
 
 Would you have endless Lightning in the skies? 
 Methinks Love's very title says enough : 
 How should " the tender passion" e'er be tough f 
 
 HO be* — Spenser. 
 "POR Love is a celestial Harmony 
 
 Of likely hearts composed of stars' consent, 
 Which join together in sweet Sympathy, 
 
 To worke each other's joy and true consent, 
 Which they have harbour'd since their first descent 
 Out of their heavenly bowres, where they did see 
 And know each other here beloved to he. 
 
 itobc. — Joanna Baillie. 
 Fain would I speak the thoughts I bear to thee, 
 But they do choke and flutter in my throat, 
 And make me like a Child. 
 2c2 
 
324 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Hobf; — BuOer. 
 
 T OVE is a fire, that burns and sparkles 
 
 In men as nat' rally as in charcoals, 
 Which sooty Chemists stop in holes 
 When out of wood they extract coals : 
 So Lovers should their passion choke, 
 That though they burn, they may not smoke. 
 
 Hobe. — Spenser. 
 T OVE is life's End; an end but never ending; 
 All joys, all sweets, all happiness, awarding ; 
 Love is life's Wealth (ne'er spent, but ever spending) 
 More rich by giving, taking by discarding, 
 Love's Life's Reward, rewarded in rewarding : 
 Then from thy wretched heart fond Care remove : 
 Ah! shouldst thou live but once Love's sweets to prove, 
 Thou wilt not love to live, unless thou live to love. 
 
 iLobe. — Thomson. 
 Those fond sensations, those enchanting dreams, 
 Which cheat a toiling World from day to day, 
 And form the whole of Happiness they know. 
 
 ILobe, — Thomson. 
 But sure, my friend, 
 There is a time for Love ; or life were vile, 
 A tedious circle of unjoyous days 
 With senseless hurry fill'd, distasteful, wretched, 
 Till Love comes smiling in, and brings his sweets, 
 His healing sweets, soft cares, transporting joys, 
 That make the poor account of Life complete, 
 And justify the Gods. 
 
 HO be. — Joanna Baillie. 
 r)FT in the watchful post, or weary march, 
 
 Oft in the nightly silence of my tent, 
 My fixed mind shall gaze upon it still; 
 But it will pass before my Fancy's eye, 
 Like some delightful vision of the Soul, 
 To soothe, not trouble it. 
 
 Hobe. — Milton. 
 
 But now lead on ; 
 In me is no delay ; with thee to go 
 Is to stay here ; with thee here to stay, 
 Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me 
 Art all things under Heaven, all places thou. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 325 
 
 HO be. — Thomson. 
 T\THY should we kill the best of passions, Love ? 
 
 It aids the Hero, bids Ambition rise 
 To nobler heights, inspires Immortal deeds, 
 Even softens brutes, and adds a Grace to Virtue. 
 
 3L()be. — Shakspeare. 
 T>UT Love, first learned in a lady's eyes, 
 
 Lives not alone immured in the Brain : 
 But with the motion of all elements, 
 Courses as swift as Thought in every power ; 
 And gives to every power a double power, 
 Above their functions and their offices. 
 
 irQbe,.— Swift. 
 
 T OVE why do we one Passion call, 
 
 When 'tis a compound of them all ? 
 Where hot and cold, where sharp and sweet, 
 In all their equipages meet ; 
 Where Pleasures mix'd with Pains appear, 
 Sorrow with Joy, and Hope with Fear. 
 
 Eobe.— Byron. 
 The war of elements no fears impart 
 To Love, whose deadliest bane is Human art : 
 There lie the only Rocks our course can check. 
 
 Hobe.— Prior. 
 LANTASTIC Tyrant of the amorous heart, 
 
 How hard thy Yoke ! how cruel is thy dart I 
 Those 'scape thy Anger who refuse thy sway, 
 And those are punished most who most obey. 
 
 Hobe. — Spenser. 
 C1UCH is the powre of that sweet Passion, 
 
 That it all sordid baseness doth expel, 
 And the refined mind doth newly fashion 
 Unto a fairer form, which now doth dwell 
 In his high Thought, that would itself excel, 
 Which he beholding still with constant Sight, 
 Admires the Mirrour of so heavenly light. 
 
 Uobe. — Moore. 
 T\^HY, the World are all thinking about it, 
 
 And as for myself, I can swear, 
 If I fancied that Heaven were without it, 
 I'd scarce feel a wish to go there. 
 
326 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 IrObe* — Shakspeare. 
 
 The blood of youth burns not with such excess, 
 As Gravity's revolt to Wantonness. 
 
 ILobe* — Fri&r. 
 
 COFT Love, spontaneous tree, its parted root 
 
 Must from two Hearts with equal vigour shoot : 
 Whilst each delighted and delighting gives 
 The pleasing ecstasy which each receives \ 
 Cherish' d with Hope, and fed with Joy it grows ; 
 Its cheerful buds their opening bloom disclose, 
 And round the happy soil diffusive odour flows. 
 If angry Fate that mutual care denies, 
 The fading plant bewails its due supplies ; 
 Wild with Despair, or sick with Grief, it dies. 
 
 UOue* — Mrs. Tighe. 
 OH ! most adored ! Oh ! most regretted Love ! 
 
 Oh ! joys that never must again be mine, 
 And thou, lost hope, farewell — vainly I rove, 
 
 For never shall I reach that land divine. 
 
 Nor ever shall thy Beams celestial shine 
 Again upon my sad unheeded way ! 
 
 Oh ! let me here with Life my woes resign, 
 Or in this glomy den for ever stay, 
 And shun the scornful World, nor see detested day. 
 
 ILobe* — Scott. 
 TT was but with that dawning Morn 
 
 That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn 
 To drown his Love in war's wild roar, 
 Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; 
 But he who stems a Stream with Sand, 
 And fetters Flame with flaxen band, 
 Has yet a harder task to prove — 
 By firm Resolve to conquer Love ! 
 
 Uobe, — Bijron. 
 
 Love will find its way 
 Through paths where Wolves would fear to prey, 
 And if it dares enough, 'twere hard 
 If passion met not some reward. 
 
 ltd be. — Shakspeare. 
 Methinks, I feel this Youth's perfections, 
 With an invisible and subtle stealth, 
 To creep in at mine Eyes. Well, let it be. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 327 
 
 HO be Spenser. 
 
 THE gnawing Envy, the heart-fretting Fear, 
 
 The vain surmises, the distrustful shows, 
 The false reports that flying tales do bear, 
 
 The Doubts, the dangers, the delays, the Woes, 
 The feigned Friends, the unassured foes, 
 With thousands more than any tongue can tell, 
 Do make a Lover s life a wretch's Hell. 
 
 Uobe. — Aaron Hill. 
 THERE are, in Love, the extremes of touch'd Desire; 
 
 The noblest brightness ! or the coarsest Fire ! 
 In vulgar bosoms vulgar wishes move ; 
 Nature guides choice, and as men think they love. 
 In the loose Passion men profane the name, 
 Mistake the purpose, and pollute the Flame : 
 In nobler bosoms Friendship's form it takes, 
 And sex alone the lovely difference makes. 
 
 Hob?.— Peter Pindar. 
 T7CONOMY in Love is peace to nature, 
 
 Much like Economy in worldly matter : 
 We should be prudent, never live too fast; 
 Profusion will not, cannot always last. 
 
 ILobe. — Shakspeare. 
 Even in so short a space, my woman's heart 
 Grossly grew captive to his Honey Words, 
 And proved the subject of mine own soul's Curse 
 
 Uobe. _ Goldsmith. 
 A ND Love is still an emptier sound, 
 
 The modern fair one's jest : 
 On Earth unseen, or only found 
 To warm the Turtle's nest. 
 
 ?iobe. — Shakspeare. 
 T NEVER sued to Friend nor enemy; 
 
 My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word ; 
 But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, 
 My proud Heart sues, and prompts my Tongue to speak 
 
 Uobe. — Cowley. 
 J^ MIGHTY Pain to Love it is, 
 
 And 'tis a Pain that Pain to miss; 
 But of all Pains, the greatest Pain 
 It is to Love, and Love in vain. 
 
528 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iLobe, — Thomson. • 
 "INHERE lives the man (if such a man there be) 
 
 In idle Wilderness, or Desert drear, 
 To Beauty's sacred power an enemy ? 
 
 Let foul fiends harrow him; I'll drop no tear. 
 I deem that carl by Beauty's power unmoved 
 Hated of Heaven, of none but Hell approved; 
 Oh may he never Love, Oh never be beloved ! 
 
 Uobe. — Dryden. 
 Fool, not to know, that Love endures no tie, 
 And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury. 
 
 Uobe. — Johnson. 
 nPIRED with vain Joys, and false alarms, 
 
 With mental and corporeal Strife, 
 Snatch me, my Stella, to thy arms, 
 And screen me from the ills of Life. 
 
 Uobe, — Shenstone. 
 A H ! Love every Hope can inspire ; 
 
 It banishes Wisdom the while : 
 And the lip of the nymph we admire 
 Seems for ever adorn'd with a Smile. 
 
 Uobe. — Spenser. 
 Ne may Love be compeld to maistery; 
 Fo soone as maistery comes, sweet Love anone 
 Taketh his nimble Winges, and soone away is gone. 
 
 H(lb0. — Shakspeare. 
 Love is full of unbefitting strains ; 
 All wanton as a Child, skipping, and vain ; 
 Form'd by the eye, and therefore like the Eye, 
 Full of strange shapes, of Habits, and of forms. 
 
 ItObtf, — Johnson. 
 T ET us now, in whisper'd Joy 
 
 Evening's silent hours employ : 
 Silence best, and conscious Shades, 
 Please the Hearts that Love invades ; 
 Other pleasures give them pain, 
 Lovers all but Love disdain. 
 
 Itobe. — Moore. 
 T OVE will never bear enslaving; 
 
 Summer garments suit him best ; 
 Bliss itself is not worth having, 
 If we're by Compulsion blest. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 329 
 
 Uobe* — Pope. 
 OH happy state ! when Souls each other draw, 
 
 When Love is liberty, and Nature law : 
 All then is full, possessing and possess' d, 
 No craving void left aching in the breast : 
 Even thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, 
 And each warm wish springs mutual from the Heart. 
 
 ILobe. — Spenser. 
 TTUMBLED with feare and awfull reverence, 
 
 Before the footstoole of his Majestie 
 Throwe thyselfe downe, with trembling innocence, 
 Ne dare looke up with corruptible eye 
 On the dread face of that great Deity, 
 For feare, lest if he chance to look on thee, 
 Thou turne to nought, and quite confounded be. 
 
 UOue. — Dry den. 
 Love ! thou sternly dost thy power maintain, 
 And wilt not bear a Rival in thy reign, 
 Tyrants and thee all fellowship disdain. 
 
 Uobe.— Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 "Y^THEN vex'd by cares and harass'd by distress, 
 
 The storms of Fortune chill thy soul with dread, 
 
 Let Love, consoling Love ! still sweetly bless, 
 And his assuasive balm benignly shed : 
 His downy plumage o'er thy pillow spread, 
 
 Shall lull thy weeping Sorrows to repose ; 
 To Love the tender heart hath ever fled, 
 
 As on its mother's breast the infant throws 
 
 Its sobbing face, and there in Sleep forgets its woes 
 
 Unbe. _ SoutJiey. 
 T OVE'S holy flame for ever burneth ; 
 
 From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth : 
 Too oft on earth a troubled guest, 
 At times deceived, at times opprest, 
 It here is tried and purified, 
 Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest : 
 It sow :th here with toil and care, 
 But the harvest-time of Love is there. 
 
 ILobe* — Moore. 
 'THAT happy minglement of Hearts, 
 
 Where, changed as chemic compounds are, 
 Each with its own Existence parts, 
 To find a new one, happier far ! 
 
330 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 OH, you for whom I write ! whose hearts can melt 
 
 At the soft thrilling Voice whose power you prove, 
 You know what charm unutterably felt 
 
 Attends the unexpected voice of Love ; 
 
 Above the Lyre, the lute's soft notes above, 
 With sweet enchantment to the soul it steals, 
 
 And bears it to Elysium's happy grove ) 
 You best can tell the rapture Psyche feels 
 When Love's Ambrosial Lip the vows of Hymen seals. 
 
 Uube. — Scott. 
 , Oh why should man's success remove 
 The very charms that wake his Love ! 
 
 ILobe* — Moore. 
 HTO see thee every day that came, 
 
 And find thee every day the same ; 
 In Pleasure's smile or Sorrow's tear 
 The same benign, consoling Dear ! 
 To meet thee early, leave thee late, 
 Has been so long my bliss, my fate, 
 That Life, without this cheering ray, 
 Which came, like Sunshine, every day, 
 And all my pain, my sorrow chased, 
 Is now a lone and loveless waste. 
 
 3L0be. — Shakspeare. 
 TJIS soul is so enfetter'd to her Love, 
 
 That she may make, unmake, do what she list, 
 Even as her appetite shall play the God 
 With his weak function. 
 
 Hflbe. — Byron. 
 
 TTE who hath loved not, here would learn to Love, 
 And make his Heart a spirit; he who knows 
 
 That tender mystery, will love the more, 
 
 For this is Love's recess, where vain men's woes 
 
 And the world's waste, hath driven him far from those, 
 
 For 'tis his nature to advance or die ; 
 
 He stands not still, but or decays, or grows 
 
 Into a boundless blessing, which may vie 
 
 With the Immortal lights, in its Eternity ! 
 
 Hube. — Lamb. 
 Man, while he Loves, is never quite depraved, 
 And Woman's triumph is a Lover saved. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 331 
 
 Hob**— Moore. 
 
 OH what, while I could hear and see 
 
 Such words and looks, was Pleaven to me ? 
 Though gross the air on Earth I drew, 
 'Twas blessed, while she breathed it too; 
 Though dark the flowers, though dim the sky, 
 Love lent them'Light, while she was nigh. 
 
 ILobe. — Bums. 
 TT warms me, it charms me, 
 
 To mention but her Name : 
 It heats me, it beets me, 
 And sets me a' on flame ! 
 
 Eobe.— Mrs. TigTie. 
 
 (~)H ! have you never known the silent charm 
 That undisturb'd Retirement yields the soul, 
 
 Where no intruder might your peace alarm, 
 And Tenderness have wept without control, 
 While melting Fondness o'er the bosom stole ? 
 
 Did Fancy never, in some lonely grove, 
 
 Abridge the hours which must in absence roll ? 
 
 Those pensive Pleasures did you never prove, 
 
 Oh, you have never Loved ! you know not what is Love i 
 
 Uobc,— Addison. 
 Why dost thou frown upon me ? 
 My Blood runs cold, my Heart forgets to heave, 
 And Life itself goes out at thy displeasure ! 
 
 ?Uue. — Moore. 
 ' 'TWAS but for a moment — and yet in that time 
 She crowded th' impressions of many an hour : 
 Her eye had a glow, like the Sun of her clime, 
 Which waked every feeling at once into Flower ! 
 
 IL0ue> — Milton. 
 CO cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was chcer'd, 
 
 But silently a gentle Tear let fall 
 From either eve, and wiped them with her hair • 
 Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
 Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
 Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet Remorse 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended. 
 
 H^t.—Dryden. 
 Love is a child that talks in broken Language, 
 Yet then he speaks most plain. 
 2D 
 
332 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ILobe*— MUon. 
 
 T OVE, like odorous Zephyr's grateful breath, 
 
 Repays the Flower that sweetness which it borrow'd ; 
 Uninjuring, uninjured, Lovers move 
 In their own sphere of happiness confest, 
 By mutual Truth avoiding mutual blame. 
 
 Hob**— Pope. 
 
 CHOULD at my feet the world's great master fall, 
 
 Himself, his throne, his World, I'd scorn them all : 
 Not Caesar's Empress would I deign to prove ; 
 No, make me Mistress to the man I love. 
 
 BtSappohmtJ H^St.— Washington Irving. 
 'THE Love of a delicate female is always shy and silent. Even 
 when fortunate, she scarcely breathes it to herself; but when 
 otherwise, she buries it in the recesses of her bosom, and there lets 
 it cower and brood among the ruins of her peace. She is like some 
 tender tree, the pride and beauty of the grove ; graceful in its form, 
 bright in its foliage, but with the worm preying at its heart. We 
 find it suddenly withering when it should be most fresh and luxu- 
 riant. We see it drooping its branches to the earth and shedding 
 leaf by leaf; until, wasted and perished away, it falls even in the 
 stillness of the forest; and as we muse over the beautiful ruin, we 
 strive in vain to recollect the blast or thunderbolt that could have 
 smitten it with decay. 
 
 ILOUC Of ?®lmte.— Claudian. 
 
 'THE very leaves live but to Love, and throughout the lofty 
 grove the happy trees have their amours : the Palm nodding to 
 the Palm, ratifies their leagues; the Poplar sighs for the Poplar's 
 embrace; and the Platanus hisses its love to the Platanus; the 
 Alder to the Alder. 
 
 ILflbe Of tfie QfiSlflttiS.— Clarendon. 
 
 'THEY take very unprofitable pains who endeavour to persuade 
 men that they are obliged wholly to despise this World and all 
 that is in it, even whilst they themselves live here : God hath not 
 taken all that pains in forming and framing and furnishing and 
 adorning this World, that they who were made by him to live in 
 it should despise it ; it will be well enough if they do not love it so 
 immoderately, to prefer it before him who made it. 
 
 IBitolg HOUe. — Shakspeare. 
 I, an old Turtle, 
 Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there 
 My Mate, that's never to be found again, 
 Lament till I am lost. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 333 
 
 Uobe Of (Eounttj)- — Shakspeare. 
 THIS royal Throne of Kings, this scepter'd Isle, 
 
 This Earth of Majesty, this seat of Mars, 
 This other Eden, demi-paradise; 
 This Fortress, built by Nature for herself, 
 Against infection, and the hand of war; 
 This Happy breed of men, this little world ; 
 This precious Stone set in the Silver Sea, 
 Which serves it in the office of a wall, 
 Or as a moat defensive to a house, 
 Against the envy of less happier lands ; 
 This blessed plot, this Earth, this Realm, this England, 
 Dear for her Reputation through the world. 
 
 Jcel^UOuC, — Shakspeare. 
 ftlN of Self-love possesseth all mine eye, 
 
 And all my Soul, and all my every part ; 
 And for this sin there is no remedy, 
 It is so grounded inward in my Heart. 
 Methinks no face so gracious is as mine, 
 No shape so true, no Truth of such account ; 
 And for myself mine own worth do define, 
 As I all other in all worths surmount. 
 But when my glass shows me myself indeed, 
 Beated and chopp'd with tann'd Antiquity, 
 Mine own Self-love quite contrary I read, 
 Self so Self-loving were Iniquity. 
 
 ftHEoman'S Uobe, — Washington Irving. 
 lyTAN is the creature of interest and ambition. His nature leads 
 him forth into the struggle and bustle of the world. Love is 
 but the establishment of his early life, or a song piped in the 
 intervals of the acts. He seeks for fame, for fortune, for space in 
 the world's thought, and dominion over his fellow-men. Bat a 
 woman's whole life is a history of the affections. The heart is her 
 world : it is there her ambition strives for empire; it is there her 
 avarice seeks for hidden treasures. She sends forth her sympathies 
 on adventure; she embarks her whole soul iu the traffic of af- 
 fection ; and if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless — for it is a bank- 
 ruptcy of the heart. 
 
 ILOgaltj?. — Coicper. 
 \\TE too are friends to Loyalty. We love 
 
 The King who loves the Law ; respects his bounds, 
 And reigns content within them. Him we serve 
 
334 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Freely and with delight, who leaves us free. 
 But recollecting still that he is Man, 
 We trust him not too far. 
 
 ?lltSt — Milton. 
 (JAPRICIOUS, wanton, bold, and brutal Lust, 
 
 Is meanly selfish ; when resisted, cruel; 
 And, like the blast of Pestilential Winds, 
 Taints the sweet bloom of Nature's fairest forms. 
 
 llUSt* — Spenser. 
 A S pale and wan as ashes was his looke, 
 
 His body leane and meagre as a Rake, 
 And skin all wither' d like a dryed rooke ; 
 Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake, 
 That seem'd to tremble evermore and quake. 
 
 EU0t. — Milton. 
 
 But when Lust, 
 By unchaste looks, loose Gestures, and foul talk, 
 But most by lewd and lavish acts of Sin, 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts, 
 The Soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 The divine Property of her first being. 
 
 Hl!£t* — ShaJcspeare. 
 'THE expense of spirit in a waste of Shame 
 
 Is Lust in action ; and till action, Lust 
 Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, 
 
 Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; 
 Enjoy'd no sooner, but despised straight; 
 
 Past Reason hunted; and, no sooner had, 
 Past Reason hated, as a swallowed bait, 
 
 On purpose laid to make the taker mad : 
 Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; 
 
 Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme ; 
 A bliss in proof, — and proved, a very wo ; 
 
 Before, a Joy proposed ; behind, a dream : 
 All this the world well knows ; yet none knows well 
 To shun the Heaven that leads men to this Hell. 
 
 ILUSt* — ShaJcspeare. 
 The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Grace, 
 For there it revels, and when that decays, 
 The guilty Rebel for remission prays. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 335 
 
 Ulliurg- — ShaJespeare. 
 
 Weariness 
 Can snore upon the Flint, when restive Sloth 
 Finds the Down pillow hard. 
 
 ImXUtg*— Johnson. 
 
 CUCH is the Diligence with which, in countries completely 
 civilized, one part of mankind labour for another, that wants 
 are supplied faster than they can be formed, and the Idle and 
 luxurious find Life stagnate for want of some desire to keep it in 
 motion. This species of Distress furnishes a new set of occupa- 
 tions; and multitudes are busied from day to day in finding the 
 Rich and the Fortunate something to do. 
 
 ILjMnCJ. — Montaigne. 
 A FTER a tongue has once got the knack of Lying, 'tis not to be 
 imagined how impossible almost it is to reclaim it. Whence 
 it comes to pass that we see some men, who are otherwise very 
 honest, so subject to this vice. 
 
 Up lit (J.— Addison. 
 
 Falsehood and Fraud grow up in every soil, 
 The product of all climes. 
 
 UjMttg. — From the Latin. 
 'THE first step toward useful Knowledge, is to be able to detect 
 Falsehood. 
 
 ?iptng. — Montaigne. 
 T YING is a hateful and accursed Vice. We are not men, nor 
 have other tie upon one another, but our word. If we did but 
 discover the Horror and consequences of it, we should pursue it 
 with Fire and Sword, and more justly than other Crimes. 
 
 P&d3mtm.— Byron. 
 CHE look'd on many a face with vacant Eye, 
 
 On many a token without knowing what; 
 She saw them watch her without asking why, 
 
 And reck'd not who around her pillow sate; 
 Not speechless though she spoke not ; not a sigh 
 
 Relieved her thoughts ; dull silence and quick chat 
 Were tried in vain by those who served ; she gave 
 No sign, save breath, of having left the Grave. 
 
 jBatmcSS.— Moore. 
 
 This wretched brain gave way, 
 And I became a Wreck, at random driven 
 Without one glimpse of Reason or of Heaven. 
 
 2d2 
 
336 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iftatmCSS. — Byron. 
 
 Every sense 
 Had been o'erstrung by pangs intense, 
 And each frail fibre of her brain 
 (As bow-strings, when relax'd by rain, 
 The erring Arrow launch aside) 
 Sent forth her Thoughts all wild and wide. 
 
 Wi)Z £Ba^mt.— Danvin. 
 The obedient Steel with living instinct moves, 
 And veers for ever to the Pole it loves. 
 
 &t)C iHagnet — Byron. 
 That trembling vassal of the Pole, 
 The feeling Compass, Navigation's soul. 
 
 ffian. — Cotton. 
 AJAN is that compound Being, created to fill that wide hiatus, 
 that must otherwise have remained unoccupied, between the 
 Natural world and the Spiritual; and he sympathizes with the 
 one in his death, and will be associated with the other by his re- 
 surrection. Without another state, it would be utterly impossible 
 for him to explain the difficulties of this : possessing Earth, but 
 destined for Heaven, he forms the link between two orders of 
 Being, and partakes much of the grossness of the one, and some- 
 what of the refinement of the other. Reason, like the magnetic 
 influence imparted to iron, gives to matter properties and powers 
 which it possessed not before, but without extending its bulk, 
 augmenting its weight, or altering its Organization ; like that to 
 which I have compared it, it is visible only by its effects, and per- 
 ceptible only by its operations. Reason, superadded to Man, gives 
 him peculiar and characteristic views, Responsibilities, and desti- 
 nations, exalting him above all existences that are visible, but 
 which perish, and associating him with those that are invisible, 
 but which remain. Reason is that Homeric and golden chain 
 descending from the throne of God even unto Man, uniting Heaven 
 with Earth, and Earth with Heaven. For all is connected, and 
 without a chasm ; from an Angel to an atom, all is proportion, 
 harmony and strength. 
 
 j^tan, — Cotton. 
 IV/TAN, though individually confined to a narrow spot of this 
 Globe, and limited, in his existence, to a few courses of the 
 Sun, has nevertheless an Imagination which no despotism can 
 control, and which, unceasingly, seeks for the Author of his 
 destiny, through the immensity of space, and the ever-rolling 
 current of Ages. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 337 
 
 {Ban.— Pascal 
 "XYTHAT a chimera is Man ! what a confused Chaos ! what a 
 subject of contradiction ! a professed judge of all things, and 
 yet a feeble worm of the Earth ! the great depositary and guai dian 
 of Truth, and yet a mere huddle of uncertainty ! the glory and the 
 scandal of the Universe. 
 
 iBan.— Byron. 
 Admire, exult, — despise, — laugh, weep, — for here 
 There is such matter for all feeling ; — Man ! 
 Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. 
 
 /Han. — Tucker. 
 'THERE are limits to the progress of Man's Animal Frame : it is 
 stationary, it declines, and is dissolved ; but to this progress 
 of Intelligence, in ascending the scale of Knowledge and of Wis- 
 dom, there are not any physical limits short of the Universe itself, 
 which the happy mind aspires to know, and to the order of which 
 he would conform his will. The animals are qualified, by their 
 organization and their instincts, for the particular Element and the 
 circumstances in which they are placed, and they are not fit for any 
 other ; but Man, by his intelligent powers, is qualified for any 
 scene of which the circumstances may be observed and in which 
 the proprieties of conduct may be understood. 
 
 /Hail. — Shdkxpeare. 
 Dare do all that may become a man : 
 Who dares do more is none, is none. 
 
 /Hatt. — Shcikspeare. 
 
 TIS nature is too noble for the World : 
 
 He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, 
 Or Jove for his power to thunder. His Heart's his mouth : 
 What his breast forges, that his Tongue must vent. 
 
 /Hatt. — Peter Pindar. 
 THE mind of Man is vastly like a hive ; 
 His thoughts so busy ever — all alive ! 
 But here the simile will go no further; 
 For Bees are making Honey, one and all ; 
 Man's thoughts are busy in producing Gall, 
 Committing, as it were, Self-murther. 
 
 j&an. — Crahbe. 
 In that rock are shapes of shells, and forms 
 Of creatures in old Worlds, of nameless worms, 
 Whose generations lived and died ere Man, 
 A worm of other class, to crawl began. 
 
 22 
 
338 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 {Ban. — Prior. 
 "RUT do these worlds display their beams, or guide 
 Their orbs, to serve thy use, to please thy pride ? 
 Thyself but dust, thy stature but a span, 
 A moment thy duration, foolish Man ! 
 As well may the minutest emmet say, 
 That Caucasus was raised to pave his way ; 
 The snail, that Lebanon's extended wood 
 Was destined only for his walk and food ; 
 The vilest Cockle, gaping on the coast 
 That rounds the ample seas, as well may boast, 
 The craggy rock projects above the sky, 
 That he in safety at its foot may lie ; 
 And the whole Ocean's confluent waters swell, 
 Only to quench his thirst, or move and blanch his shell. 
 
 £Bm. — Young. 
 TTOW poor, how rich, how abject, how august, 
 
 How complicate, how wonderful, is Man ! 
 How passing wonder He, who made him such ! 
 Who centred in our make such strange extremes! 
 From different natures marvellously mixt, 
 Connexion exquisite of distant Worlds ! 
 Distinguish'd link in Being's endless chain ! 
 Midway from nothing to the Deity ! 
 A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorped ! 
 Though sullied and dishonour' d, still divine ! 
 Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! 
 An heir of Glory ! a frail child of dust ! 
 Helpless Immortal ! Insect infinite ! 
 A Worm ! a God ! 
 
 iftatt. — Prior. 
 f"JEASE, Man of woman born, to hope relief 
 From daily Trouble and continued Grief; 
 Thy hope of Joy deliver to the wind, 
 Suppress thy passions, and prepare thy mind ; 
 Free and familiar with Misfortune grow, 
 Be used to Sorrow, and inured to Woe; 
 By weakening toil and hoary age o'ercome, 
 See thy decrease, and hasten to thy Tomb. 
 
 M^n. — Pope. 
 ^OT always actions show the Man : we find 
 
 Who does a kindness, is not therefore kind ; 
 Perhaps Prosperity becalm'd his breast, 
 Perhaps the wind just shifted from the east : 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 339 
 
 Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat, 
 
 Pride guides his steps, and bids him shun the great : 
 
 Who combats bravely is not therefore brave, 
 
 He dreads a Death-bed like the meanest slave : 
 
 Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise, 
 
 His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies. 
 
 iHtftt. — Bacon. 
 T)EADING maketh a full Man; Conference a ready Man ; and 
 Writing an exact Man. 
 
 ffian. — Prior. 
 r^ONDEMN'D to sacrifice his childish years 
 
 To babbling Ignorance, and to empty fears ; 
 To pass the riper period of his age, 
 Acting his part upon a crowded stage ; 
 To lasting toils exposed and endless Cares, 
 To open dangers, and to secret snares ; 
 To malice, which the vengeful Foe intends, 
 And the more dangerous Love of seeming Friends. 
 
 f&an. — Pojye. 
 J>EHOLD the child, by Nature's kindly law 
 Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw ; 
 Some livelier plaything gives his Youth delight, 
 A little louder, but as empty quite ; 
 Scarfs, Garters, Gold amuse his riper stage ; 
 And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age ; 
 Pleased with this Bauble still, as that before ; 
 Till tired he sleeps, and Life's poor play is o'er. 
 
 itfan, — Pope. 
 
 CEE him from Nature rising slow to art ! 
 To copy instinct then was reason's part : 
 Thus then to man the voice of Nature spake — 
 Go, from the creatures thy instructions take : 
 Learn from the Birds what food the thickets yield; 
 Learn from the Beasts the physics of the field; 
 Thy arts of building from the Bee receive ; 
 Learn of the Mole to plough, the Worm to weave : 
 Learn of the little Nautilus to sail, 
 Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving Gale. 
 
 iHtltt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 However we do praise ourselves, 
 Our Fancies are more giddy and infirm, 
 More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, 
 Than Women's are. 
 
340 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ittatt.— Young. 
 "pATHER of Mercies ! why from silent earth 
 
 Did'st thou awake, and curse me into birth? 
 Tear me from quiet, ravish me from night, 
 And make a thankless present of thy Light ? 
 Push into being a reverse of thee, 
 And animate a Clod with Misery ? 
 
 irEtatt. — Spenser. 
 GO greatest and most glorious thing on ground 
 
 May often need the helpe of weaker hand ; 
 So feeble is Man's state, and Life unsound, 
 That in assurance it may never stand, 
 Till it dissolved be from earthly Band. 
 
 iHan. — Steele. 
 
 A MAN that is Temperate, Generous, Valiant, Chaste, Faithful, 
 
 and Honest, may, at the same time, have Wit, Humour, 
 
 Mirth, Good-breeding, and Gallantry. While he exerts these 
 
 latter qualities, twenty occasions might be invented to show he is 
 
 master of the other noble Virtues. 
 
 £Ban.— Parnell. 
 
 T ET business vex him, Avarice blind, 
 
 Let doubt and Knowledge rack his mind, 
 Let Errour act, Opinion speak, 
 And Want afflict, and Sickness break, 
 And Anger burn, Dejection chill, 
 And Joy distract, and Sorrow kill, 
 Till arm'd by Care, and taught to mow, 
 Time draws the long destructive blow. 
 
 iHattfjOOU'. — ShaJcspeare. 
 TTE is but the counterfeit of a Man, who hath not the life of a 
 11 Man. 
 
 itfanljOOtt. — Scott. 
 He turn'd away — his Heart throbb'd high, 
 The tear was bursting from his eye. 
 
 JttattJjOOo'. — Scott. 
 With haughty Laugh his head he turn'd, 
 And dash'd away the Tear he scorn' d. 
 
 JHanfjOOfi. — ShaJcspeare. 
 I'll never 
 Be such a gostling to obey instinct ; but stand, 
 As if a Man we're Author of himself, 
 And knew no other kin. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 341 
 
 j&,mntXB.— Addison. 
 
 COMPLAISANCE renders a Superior amiable, an Equal agree- 
 able, and an Inferior acceptable. It smooths distinction, 
 sweetens conversation, and makes every one in the company 
 pleased with himself. It produces Good Nature and mutual bene- 
 volence, encourages the timorous, soothes the turbulent, humanizes 
 the fierce, and distinguishes a society of civilized persons from a 
 confusion of savages. 
 
 fi& tilt n r r.S . — La Brvyere. 
 A Man's worth is estimated in this world according to his Conduct. 
 
 iHait Iters Steele. 
 
 T TAKE it for a rule, that the natural, and not the acquired man, 
 is the companion. Learning, wit, gallantry, and Good-breeding 
 are all but subordinate qualities in society, and are of no value, but 
 as they are subservient to Benevolence, and tend to a certain man- 
 ner of being or appearing equal to the rest of the Company. 
 
 iHatttterS. — Addison. 
 THE true art of being agreeable is to appear well pleased with all 
 the Company, and rather to seem well entertained with them, 
 than to bring entertainment to them. A man thus disposed, per- 
 haps, may have -not much Learning, nor any Witj but if he has 
 Common Sense and something friendly in his behaviour, it concili- 
 ates men's minds more than the brightest parts without this dispo- 
 sition : it is true indeed that we should not dissemble and flatter in 
 company ; but a man may be very agreeable, strictly consistent with 
 Truth and Sincerity, by a prudent silence where he cannot concur, 
 and a pleasing assent where he can. Now and then you meet with 
 a person so exactly formed to please, that he will gain upon every 
 one that hears or beholds him ; this disposition is not merely the 
 gift of Nature, but frequently the effect of much Knowledge of the 
 world, and a command over the Passions. 
 
 fHantterS. — Shakspeare. 
 THOSE that are Good Manners at the Court are as ridiculous in 
 the Country, as the Behaviour of the Country is most mockable 
 at the Court. 
 
 iHanners. — Swift. 
 
 TFa man makes me keep my Distance, the comfort is, he keeps 
 his at the same time. 
 
 fHannerS. — Chesterfield. 
 Q.OOD-BREEDING is the result of much Good Sense, some 
 Good Nature, and a little Self-denial for the sake of others, and 
 with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them. 
 
342 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 £&mntX8. — Greville. 
 Y^U will, I believe, in general ingratiate yourself with others, 
 still less by paying them too much Court than too little. 
 
 £&mntZ8. — Chesterfield. 
 J^ MAN'S own Good-breeding is the best security against other 
 people's Ill-manners. 
 
 fflmttm — Addison. 
 
 QNE may now know a man that never conversed in the world, by 
 his excess of Good-breeding. A polite country Esquire shall 
 make you as many bows in half an hour, as would serve a Courtier 
 for a week. There is infinitely more to do about place and prece- 
 dancy in a meeting of Justices' wives, than in an assembly of 
 Duchesses. 
 
 JHanttCrS.— Cumberland. 
 r JpHE happy gift of being agreeable seems to consist not in one, 
 but in an assemblage of Talents tending to communicate delight ; 
 and how many are there, who, by easy Manners, sweetness of Tem- 
 per, and a variety of other undefinable qualities, possess the power 
 of pleasing without any visible effort, without the aids of Wit, Wis- 
 dom, or Learning, nay, as it should seem, in their defiance; and 
 this without appearing even to know that they possess it. 
 
 m fflannm. —Addison. 
 ^HERE is no society or conversation to be kept up in the world 
 without Good-nature, or something which must bear its appear- 
 ance, and supply its place. For this reason mankind have been 
 forced to invent a kind of artificial humanity, which is what we 
 express by the word Good-breeding. 
 
 fflamm$.—Addiso?i. 
 
 Q-OOD-BREEDING shows itself most, where to an ordinary Eye 
 it appears the least. 
 
 iftaniters.— Fuller. 
 
 TN conversation use some, but not too much Ceremony : it teaches 
 others to be courteous too. Demeanours are commonly paid 
 back in their own Coin. 
 
 Jtfanners. — South. 
 
 I" HAVE known men, grossly injured in their affairs, depart 
 pleased, at least silent, only because they were injured in good 
 Language, ruined in Caresses, and kissed while they were struck 
 under the fifth Rib. 
 
 i$attnet0, — Chesterfield. 
 A N able man shows his spirit by gentle Words and resolute 
 Actions : he is neither hot nor timid. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 343 
 
 /Banners.— Fuller. 
 
 T ET thy Carriage be friendly, but not foolishly free : An unwary 
 Openness causeth Contempt, but a little Reservedness, Respect; 
 and handsome Courtesy, Kindness. 
 
 /Banners.— Swift 
 
 (^ OOD Manners is the art of making those people easy with whom 
 we converse. Whoever makes the fewest persons uneasy, is 
 the best bred in the Company. 
 
 iBanners.— Hume. 
 
 A MONG well-bred people, a mutual Deference is affected ; Con- 
 tempt of others disguised ; Authority concealed ; attention given 
 to each in his turn; and an easy stream of conversation maintained, 
 without vehemence, without interruption, without eagerness for 
 Victory, and without any airs of superiority. 
 
 /Banners. — Goldsmith. 
 (CEREMONIES are different in every country ; but true Polite- 
 ness is everywhere the same. Ceremonies, which take up so 
 much of our attention, are only artificial helps which Ignorance 
 assumes in order to imitate Politeness, which is the result of Good 
 Sense and Good Nature. A person possessed of those qualities, 
 though he had never seen a Court, is truly agreeable ; and if with- 
 out them, would continue a Clown, though he had been all his life 
 a gentleman usher. 
 
 /•Banners. — Chesterfield. 
 QOOD-BREEDING carries along with it a Dignity that is re- 
 spected by the most petulant. Ill-breeding invites and au 
 thorizes the Familiarity of the most timid. 
 
 /Banners. — steme. 
 
 TJAIL ! ye small sweet Courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make 
 the road of it, like Grace and Beauty which beget inclinations 
 to love at first sight; 'tis ye who open the door and let the 
 stranger in. 
 
 /Banners. — Zimmerman. 
 T)0 not think that your Learning and Genius, your Wit or 
 Sprightliness, are welcome everywhere. I was once told £hat 
 my Company was disagreeable because I appeared so uncommonly 
 happy. 
 
 /Banners. — Swift. 
 
 pRIDE, Ill-nature, and want of Sense, are the three great sources 
 of Ill-manners; without some one of these defects, no man will 
 behave himself ill for want of Experience, or what, in the language 
 of fools, is called knowing the World. 
 
 2E 
 
344 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 £6lanmx8.-*Pope. 
 
 A LL Manners take a tincture from our own, 
 
 Or come discolour'd thro' our Passions shown ; 
 Or Fancy's beam enlarges, multiplies, 
 Contracts, invests, and gives ten thousand dyes. 
 
 pdimnm. — Swift. 
 
 QNE principal point of Good-breeding is to suit our behaviour to 
 the three several degrees of men j our Superiors, our Equals, 
 and those below us. 
 
 fflanVLtXS. — Sliakspeare. 
 The sauce to meat is Ceremony 
 (Meeting were bare without it.) 
 
 fH aimers — Shakspeare. 
 He could not 
 Carry his Honours even ; whether pride, 
 (Which out of daily fortune ever taints 
 The happy man ;) whether defect of Judgment 
 (To fail in the disposing of those chances, 
 Whereof he was the Lord ;) or whether Nature, 
 (Not to be other than one thing; not moving 
 From th' cask to th/ cushion ; but commanding Peace 
 Even with the same austerity and garb 
 As he controlled the War.) 
 
 iHanners.— Steele. 
 
 T\TE see a world of pr \>s taken, and the best years of Life spent 
 in collecting a se* *,f Thoughts in a college for the conduct 
 of Life, and, after all, the man so qualified shall hesitate in his 
 speech to a good suit of clothes, and want common sense before 
 an agreeable Woman. Hence it is, that Wisdom, Valour, Justice, 
 and Learning cannot keep a man in countenance that is possessed 
 with these excellences, if he wants that inferior art of life and 
 behaviour called Good-Breeding. 
 
 Manners. — La Bruyere. 
 A LTHOUGH a man may possess Virtue, Talent, and Good 
 Conduct, he may nevertheless be disagreeable. There is a 
 certain fashion in Manners, which is too often neglected as of no 
 consequence, but which frequently becomes the basis on which 
 the World will form a favourable or an unfavourable opinion of 
 you ; and a little attention to render them engaging and polished, 
 will prevent others from entertaining prepossessions respecting 
 you, which in their consequences ma}^ operate greatly to your dis- 
 advantage. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 345 
 
 iHattttCrS. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Grace is to the Body what Good Sense is to the Mind. 
 
 f& annUS. — Fuller. 
 A S the Sword of the best tempered metall is most flexible ; so 
 the truly generous are most pliant and courteous in their Be- 
 haviour to their inferiors. 
 
 iHannetS. —Bishop Middleton. 
 Virtue itself offends, when coupled with forbidding Manners. 
 
 /Banners.— Coiton. 
 
 A LWAYS suspect a man who affects great Softness of Manner, 
 an unruffled Evenness of Temper, and an Enunciation studied, 
 slow, and deliberate. These things are all unnatural, and bespeak 
 a degree of mental discipline into which he that has no purpose of 
 Craft or Design to answer, cannot submit to drill himself. The 
 most successful Knaves are usually of this description, as smooth 
 as Razors clipped in oil, and as sharp. They affect the innocence of 
 the Dove, which they have not, in order to hide the cunning of the 
 Serpent, which they have. 
 
 /BannCCS. — Chester, -field. 
 "PREPARE yourselves for the World, as the athletse used to do 
 for their exercises; oil your Mind and your Manners, to give 
 them the necessary suppleness and flexibility j Strength alone will 
 not do. 
 
 /Banners.— La Rochefoucauld. 
 HTHERE are some persons on whom their Faults sit well, and 
 others who are made ungraceful by their Good Qualities. 
 
 /HamterS. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "^"OTHING so much prevents our being natural as the desire of 
 appearing so. 
 
 /Banners. — Greviiu. 
 
 fJNBECOMING forwardness oftener proceeds from Ignorance 
 than Impudence. 
 
 /Banners. — Skakspeare. 
 A GE cannot wither her, nor Custom stale 
 
 Her infinite variety : Other Women cloy 
 The appetites they feed ; but she makes hungry, 
 Where most she satisfies. 
 
 /Barriacje. — Skakspeare. 
 
 The instances that second Marriage move 
 Are base respects of Thrift, but none of Love. 
 
 Lir 
 
846 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iHam'age. — Thomson. 
 TTTITERE Friendship full exerts her softest power, 
 
 Perfect Esteem enliven'd by Desire 
 Ineffable, and Sympathy of Soul ; 
 Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will, 
 With boundless confidence: for naught but Love 
 Can answer Love, and render bliss secure. 
 
 £&aTtiaQt.— Fuller. 
 Take the Daughter of a good Mother. 
 
 JEtatriage,— Muton. 
 
 TTERE Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
 "Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 
 Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, 
 Casual fruition ; nor in Court Amours, 
 Mix'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
 Or serenade, which the starved Lover sings 
 To his proud Fair, best quitted with disdain. 
 
 damage.— Johnson. 
 
 TVTARRIAGE is the strictest tie of perpetual Friendship, and 
 there can be no Friendship without Confidence, and no Confi- 
 dence without Integrity; and he must expect to be wretched, who 
 pays to Beauty, Riches, or Politeness that regard which only Virtue 
 and Piety can claim. 
 
 fflaXtiaqt. — Lord Rochester. 
 "fyrOTHERS who force their Daughters into interested Marriage, 
 are worse than the Ammonites who sacrificed their children to 
 Moloch — the latter undergoing a speedy death, the former suffering 
 years of Torture, but too frequently leading to the same result 
 
 ifclarriage* — Cowper. 
 
 'THOU art the nurse of Virtue. In thine arms 
 
 She smiles, appearing as in truth she is, 
 Heaven-born and destined to the skies again. 
 Thou art not known where Pleasure is adored, 
 That reeling goddess with the zoneless waist 
 And wand'ring eye, still leaning on the arm 
 Of novelty, her fickle, frail support ; 
 For thou art meek and constant, hating change, 
 And finding in the calm of Truth-tied Love 
 Joy that her stormy Raptures never yield. 
 
 iHatriajje. — WUliam Penn. 
 TV"EVER marry but for Love, but see that thou lovest what ia 
 lovely 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 347 
 
 Haarriage. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 "REMEMBER, that if thou marry for Beauty, thou bindest thy- 
 self all thy Life for that which perchance will neither last nor 
 please thee one year ; and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of 
 no price at all ; for the Desire dicth when it is attained, and the 
 Affection perisheth when it is satisfied. 
 
 itfarriage.— Byron. 
 
 ~pEW — none — find what they love or could have loved, 
 
 Though accident, blind contact, and the strong 
 Necessity of loving, have removed 
 
 Antipathies — but to recur, ere long, 
 
 Envenom'd with irrevocable wrong. 
 
 jBarriage. — Shakspeare. 
 
 'Tis not to make me jealous 
 To say — my Wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, 
 Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well; 
 Where Virtue is, these are more virtuous : 
 Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw 
 The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; 
 For she had Eyes, and chose me : No, 
 I'll see, before I doubt; when I doubt, prove ; 
 And, on the proof, there is no more but this, — 
 Away at once with Love, or Jealousy. 
 
 fHarctagc — Cowpcr. 
 
 OH friendly to the best pursuits of man, 
 
 Friendly to Thought, to Virtue, and to Peace, 
 Domestic Life in rural leisure pass'd ! 
 Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets. 
 
 iBarriage. — Sir Thomas Overbimj. 
 AS good and wise ; so she be fit for me, 
 
 That is, to will, and not to will the same ; 
 My wife is my adopted self, and she 
 
 As me, to what I love, must frame. 
 And when by Marriage both in one concur, 
 Woman converts to Man, not Man to her. 
 
 itfarrtage.— Butler. 
 
 ~pOR Wedlock without Love, some say, 
 
 Is but a lock without a Key ; 
 It is a kind of rape to marry 
 One that neglects, or cares not for ye ; 
 For what does make it ravishment, 
 But beins; against the Mind's consent? 
 2e2 
 
348 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 fflUXXWUt. — Addison. 
 
 AN Idol may be undeificd by many accidental causes. Marriage* 
 in particular is a kind of counter-apotheosis, or a Deification 
 inverted. When a man becomes familiar with his Gi-oddess, she 
 quickly sinks into a Woman. 
 
 JHarrtage. — Coiton. 
 
 IV/TATRIMONY is an engagement which must last the life of 
 one of the parties, and there is. no retracting, vestigia nulla 
 retrorsum ; therefore, to avoid all the horror of a Repentance that 
 comes too late, men should thoroughly know the real causes that 
 induce them to take so important a step, before they venture upon 
 it : do they stand in need of a Wife, an Heiress, or a Nurse ; is it 
 their Passions, their Wants, or their Infirmities, that solicit them 
 to wed ? Are they candidates for that happy state, propter opus, 
 opes or opem f according to the epigram. These are questions 
 much more proper to be proposed before men go to the altar, than 
 after it ; they are points which, well ascertained, would prevent 
 many Disappointments, often deplorable, often ridiculous, always 
 remediless. 
 
 iftlarriage.— Justus Moser. 
 T TRY to make myself and all around me agreeable. It will not 
 do to leave a Man to himself till he comes to you, to take no 
 pains to attract him, or to appear before him with a long face. It 
 is not so difficult as you think, dear child, to behave to a Husband 
 so that he shall remain for ever in some measure a Husband. I 
 am an old Woman, but you can still do what you like; a word 
 from you at the right time will not fail of its effect ; what need 
 have you to play the suffering Virtue ? The tear of a loving Girl, 
 says an old Book, is like a Dewdrop on the Rose ; but that on the 
 cheek of a Wife is a drop of Poison to her Husband. Try to 
 appear cheerful and contented, and your husband will be so ; and 
 when you have made him happy you will become so, not in appear- 
 ance, but reality. The skill required is not so great. Nothing 
 natters a man so much as the happiness of his Wife : he is always 
 proud of himself as the source of it. As soon as you are cheerful, 
 you will be lively and alert, and every moment will afford you an 
 opportunity of letting fall an agreeable word. Your Education, 
 which gives you an immense advantage, will greatly assist you; 
 and your sensibility will become the noblest gift that Nature has 
 bestowed on you, when it shows itself in affectionate assiduity, and 
 stamps on every action a soft, kind, and tender Character, instead 
 of wasting itself in secret repinings. 
 
 iHarrtagc. — odd. 
 
 If you wish to marry suitably, marry your Equal. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 349 
 
 iBarCtage. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Let still the woman take 
 An elder than herself; so wears she to him, 
 So sways she level in her Husband's heart. 
 
 iHatrtage. — Skakspeare. 
 
 As for my Wife, 
 I would you had her Spirit in such another : 
 The third c' the world is yours : which with a snaffle 
 You may pace easy, but not such a Wife. 
 
 Jftarriage. —Fuller. 
 
 I N Marriage, he best bowls at the mark of his own Contentment, 
 who, besides the aim of his own eye, is directed by his Father, 
 who is to give him the ground. 
 
 iHarriage, — Coiton. 
 
 "\TARRIAGE is a feast where the Grace is sometimes better 
 than the Dinner. 
 
 fftatriage* — Rogers. 
 
 Across the threshold led, 
 And every Tear kiss'd off as soon as shed, 
 His house she enters, there to be a Light 
 Shining within when all without is night; 
 A guardian-Angel o'er his life presiding, 
 Doubling his Pleasure, and his Cares dividing ! 
 
 ittatriage.— Fuller. 
 
 TARRES concealed are half reconciled ; which if generally 
 known, 'tis a double task, to stop the breach at home and men's 
 mouths abroad. To this end, a good Husband never publicly 
 reproves his Wife. An open reproof puts her to do penance 
 before all that are present; after which, many study rather Revenge 
 than Reformation. 
 
 jftlatriage. — Thomson. 
 
 What is the World to them, 
 Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all ? 
 Who in each other clasp whatever fair 
 High Fancy forms, and lavish Hearts can wish ; 
 Or on the mind, or mind-illumined face ; 
 Truth, Goodness, Honour, Harmony, and Love, 
 The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. 
 
 /Carriage.— Milton. 
 
 Let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blamed enough elsewhere, but strive 
 Tn offices of Love, how we may lighten 
 Each other's burden, in our share of Wo<?. 
 
350 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 itf cmtage. — Jean Paul. 
 "J)OX'T put on your left stocking to-morrow morning; I must 
 first mend a hole in it." "The author of this history hereby 
 asserts that he has often gone nearly out of his Mind in con- 
 sequence of such like feminine Interludes. It is in truth to be 
 wished that the said author, in case he enter into the estate of 
 Matrimony, may find a woman to whom he can read the most 
 essential principles and dictata of Metaphysics and Astronomy, 
 and who will not, in his most towering flights, cast up his Stock- 
 ings at him. He will however be satisfied if one fall to his lot who 
 has humbler merits, but who is capable of soaring with him to a 
 certain height : — one on whose opened eyes and heart the flowery 
 Earth and beaming Heavens strike not in infinitesimals, but in 
 large and towering masses; for whom the great whole is something 
 more than a Nursery or a Ball-room ; one who, with a feeling at 
 once tender and discriminating, and with a Heart at once pious 
 and large, for ever improves the Man whom she has wedded. 
 This it is, and no more, to which the Author of this history limits 
 his wishes/' 
 
 JHamage,— Steele. 
 
 'THE good Husband keeps his Wife in the wholesome ignorance 
 of unnecessary Secrets. They will not be starved with the 
 ignorance, who perchance may surfeit with the knowledge of 
 weighty Counsels, too heavy for the weaker sex to bear. He 
 knows little who will tell his Wife all he knows. 
 
 Jftaruage. — Lord Lyttelton. 
 "pVEN in the happiest choice, where fav'ring Heaven 
 
 Has equal Love and easy Fortune given, — 
 Think not, the Husband gain'd, that all is done ; 
 The prize of Happiness must still be won : 
 And, oft, the careless find it to their cost, 
 The Lover in the Husband may be lost ; 
 The Graces might, alone, his heart allure ; 
 They and the Virtues, meeting, must secure. 
 
 iHarttage. — Shakspeare. 
 T AM ashamed, that Women are so simple 
 
 To offer War where they should kueel for Peace; 
 Or seek for Rule, Supremacy, and Sway, 
 When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. 
 
 fHatriage.— From the Italian. 
 'THE admiral of Castile said, that he who marries a Wife and he 
 who goes to War must necessarily submit to every thing that 
 may happen. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 351 
 
 ftlarriatJC— Anon. 
 "DE sure you like the Parents of the Girl you are about to wed ; 
 it is almost as essential to your future Happiness as to truly 
 love the object of your wishes. 
 
 fHarctage.— Coiton. 
 
 'THAT alliance may be said to have a double tie, where the 
 Minds are united as well as the Body, and the union will have 
 all its strength, when both the links are in perfection together 
 
 iHacriage. — Ben Jonson. 
 He that would have fine Guests, let him have a fine Wife. 
 
 iHatriage. —Prior. 
 
 AND now your matrimonial Cupid, 
 
 Lash'd on by Time, grows tired and stupid. 
 For story and experience tell us 
 That Man grows old, and woman jealous. 
 Both would their little ends secure : 
 He sighs for Freedom, she for Power : 
 His wishes tend abroad to roam, 
 And her's to domineer at home. 
 
 fflattia$t.—FuUtr. 
 
 'THE good Wife commandeth her Husband, in any equal matter, 
 by constantly obeying him. It was always observed, that what 
 the English gained of the French in battle by valour, the French 
 regained of the English in cunning by treaties. So if the Husband 
 should chance by his power in his passion to prejudice his Wife's 
 right, she wisely knoweth, by compounding and complying, to 
 recover and rectify it again. 
 
 f&attiaqt.— Steele. 
 TT is common to hear both sexes repine at their change, relate 
 the Happiness of their earlier years, blame the Folly and Rash- 
 ness of their own choice, and warn those whom they see coming 
 into the world against the same precipitance and infatuation. But 
 it is to be remembered that the days which they so much wish 
 to call back, are the days not only of Celibacy but of Youth, the 
 days of novelty and improvement, of ardour and of Hope, of healA 
 and vigour of body, of Gayety and Lightness of Heart. It is not 
 easy to surround lifr with any circumstances in which Youth will 
 not be delightful; and I am afraid that whether married or un- 
 married, we shall find the vestura of terrestrial Existence more 
 heavy and cumbrous the longer it is worn. 
 
35*2 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iHaUtage, — Spenser. 
 ~pROM that day forth, in Peace and joyous Bliss 
 
 They lived together long without debate ; 
 Ne private Jarre, ne spite of Enemies, 
 
 Could shake the safe assurance of their state. 
 
 ferriage. — Terence. 
 TT does not appear essential that, in forming Matrimonial Al- 
 liances, there should be on each side a parity of Wealth ; but 
 that, in Disposition and Manners, they should be alike. Chastity 
 and Modesty form the best dowry a parent can bestow. 
 
 i^larriage.— Moore. 
 gOMETHING, light as air— a look, 
 
 A word unkind or wrongly taken — 
 Oh ! Love, that tempests never shook, 
 
 A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. 
 And ruder words will soon rush in 
 To spread the breach that words begin ; 
 And Eyes forget the gentle ray 
 They wore in Courtship's smiling day; 
 And Voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round all they said ; 
 Till fast declining, one by one, 
 The sweetnesses of Love are gone, 
 And Hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
 Like broken clouds, — or like the stream, 
 That smiling left the Mountain's brow, 
 
 As though its waters ne'er could sever, 
 Yet, ere it reach the plain below, 
 
 Breaks into Floods, that part for ever. 
 
 JKatttage.— Johnson. 
 
 A/TARRIAGE is the best state for Man in general; and every 
 Man is a worse Man in proportion as he is unfit for the Mar- 
 ried State. 
 
 iftatUage*— Beattie. 
 ^"0 Jealousy their dawn of Love o'ercast, 
 
 Nor blasted were their wedded days with Strife ; 
 Each season look'd delightful as it past, 
 * To the fond Husband and the faithful Wife. 
 
 Beyond the lowly vale of shepherd life 
 They never roam'd ! secure beneath the storm 
 
 Which in Ambition's lofty land is rife, 
 Where Peace and Love are canker'd by the worm 
 Of Pride, each bud of Joy industrious to deform. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 353 
 
 iBarriatJC— Skalcspeare. 
 A Father 
 
 Is, at the nuptial of his Son, a guest 
 That best becomes the table. 
 
 itfarriafie. — Plutarch. 
 \\ EN that marry Women very much superior to themselves, are 
 not so truly Husbands to their Wives, as they are unawares 
 made Slaves to their Portions. 
 
 ittacrtage. — Martial. 
 
 pERPETUAL Harmony their bed attend, 
 
 And Venus still the well-match'd pair befriend ! 
 May she, when Time has sunk him into years, 
 Love her old man, and cherish his white hairs; 
 Nor he perceive her Charms thro* age decay, 
 But think each happy sun his Bridal day ! 
 
 iftaruage.— miton. 
 
 TT is a less breach of Wedlock to part, with wise and quiet con- 
 sent, betimes, than still to foil and profane that Mystery of Joy 
 and Union with a polluting sadness and perpetual distemper. 
 
 marriage. — Shahtpeare. 
 r riIY Husband is thy Lord, thy life, thy keeper, 
 
 Thy head, thy Sovereign : one that cares for thee, 
 And for thy maintenance : commits his body 
 To painful labour, both by sea and land ; 
 To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, 
 While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, 
 And craves no other Tribute at thy hands, 
 But Love, fair Looks, and true Obedience ; 
 Too little Payment for so great a Debt. 
 
 1 ft axtia$c — Swift. 
 
 'THE reason who so few Marriages are happy, is because young 
 Ladies spend their time in making Nets, not in making Cages. 
 
 HJarrtajje. — Skalcspeare. 
 TTAPPY in this, she is not yet so old, 
 
 But she may learn ; and happier than this, 
 She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 
 Happiest of all, is, that her gentle Spirit 
 Commits itself to yours, to be directed. 
 
 ftf atuage. — Simonides. 
 Of earthly goods the best, is a good Wife ; 
 A bad, the bitterest Curse of human life. 
 
154 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 itt atria ge. — Skakspeare. 
 God the best maker of all Marriages. 
 
 JHarriage.— Seiden. 
 
 lyTABIlIAGrE is a desperate thing : the Frogs in iEsop were 
 extremely wise ; they had a great mind to some Water, but 
 they would not leap into the Well, because they could not get out 
 again. 
 
 J&arrittge.— MassUhn. 
 
 "pVERY effort is made in forming Matrimonial Alliances to recon- 
 cile matters relating to Fortune, but very little is paid to the 
 Congeniality of Dispositions, or to the Accordance of Hearts. 
 
 jrftarriage. — MUton. 
 
 TTAIL Wedded Love, mysterious law, true source 
 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise of all things common else. 
 By thee adult'rous Lust was driven from men 
 Among the bestial herds to range \ by thee 
 Founded in Reason, loyal, just and pure, 
 Relations dear, and all the Charities 
 Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known. 
 
 IfflauiaQt. — Skakspeare. 
 IV/rARRIAGrE is a matter of more worth 
 Than to be dealt in by attorneyship. 
 For what is Wedlock forced, but a Hell, 
 An age of discord and continual Strife ? 
 Whereas the contrary bringeth forth Bliss, 
 And is a pattern of Celestial Peace. 
 
 JHarriage. — Osborne. 
 I PITY from my heart the unhappy Man who has a bad Wife. 
 She is Shackles on his feet, a Palsy to his hands, a Burden on 
 his shoulder, Smoke to his eyes, Vinegar to his teeth, a Thorn to 
 his side, a Dagger to his heart. 
 
 Utariaae. — Skakspeare. 
 
 Within a month; 
 Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous Tears 
 Had left the flushing of her galled Eyes, 
 She married : — most wicked speed. 
 
 J$ atria ge. — Vanbrugh. 
 
 TF Idleness be the root of all Evil, then Matrimony's good for 
 something, for it sets many a poor Woman to work. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 355 
 
 /Carriage. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Hasty Marriage seldom proveth well. 
 
 i^latn'atjr Shakspearc. 
 
 Should all despair, 
 That have revolted Wives, the tenth of Mankind 
 Would hang themselves. 
 
 |#arrtafie Futur. 
 
 'PHE good Wife is nnne of our dainty dames, who love to appear 
 in a variety of suits every day new ; as if a good gown, like a 
 stratagem in War, were to be used but once. But our good Wife 
 sets up a sail according to the keel of her husband's estate ; and if 
 of high Parentage, she doth not so remember what she was by 
 birth, that she forgets what she is by match. 
 
 iHatriage. — Shakspeare. 
 Reason, my son 
 
 Should choose himself a Wife; but as good reason, 
 The Father (all whose joy is nothing else 
 But fair Posterity) should hold some counsel 
 In such a business. 
 
 iHarriage. — Shakspeare. 
 She is mine own; 
 And I as rich in having such a Jewel, 
 As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, 
 The water Nectar, and the rocks pure Gold. 
 I will be master of what is mine own : 
 She is my Goods, my chattels ; she is my house, 
 My Household-stuff, my field, my barn, 
 My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing; 
 And here she stands, touch her whoever dare; 
 I'll bring mine Action on the proudest he 
 That stops my way in Padua. 
 
 itf atTtafle. — Shakspeare. 
 CUCH duty as the Subject owes the Prince, 
 
 Even such a Woman oweth to her Husband : 
 And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, 
 And, not obedient to his honest will, 
 What is she but a foul contending Rebel, 
 And graceless Traitor to her loving lord ? 
 
 itfatriage. — Fuller. 
 
 THIRST get an absolute Conquest over thyself, and then thou wilt 
 easily govern thy Wife. 
 
 2E 
 
356 ILLUSTRATIOXS OF TRUTH; 
 
 fH a triage. — Shakspeare. 
 
 A light Wife doth make a heavy Husband. 
 
 H&amage.— Pamea. 
 
 VET here and there we grant a gentle Bride, 
 Whose temper betters by the father's side; 
 Unlike the rest that double human care, 
 Fond to relieve, or resolute to share : 
 Happy the Man whom thus his stars advance ! 
 The Curse is general, but the Blessing chance. 
 
 iB atCta C$e. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 r rHE best time for Marriage, will be toward thirty, for as the 
 younger times are unfit, either to choose or to govern a Wife 
 and family, so, if thou stay long, thou shalt hardly see the educa- 
 tion of thy children, who, being left to strangers, are in effect lost: 
 and better were it to be unborn than ill-bred : for thereby thy 
 Posterity shall either perish, or remain a shame to thy Name. 
 
 IHarriagC. — Shakspeare. 
 ^U/TTHIN the bond of Marriage, tell me, Brutus 
 
 Is it excepted, I should know no secrets 
 That appertain to you ? Am I yourself 
 But, as it were, on sort, or limitation ; 
 To keep with you at Meals, comfort your bed, 
 And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs 
 Of your good Pleasure ? If it be no more, 
 Portia is Brutus' Harlot, not his Wife. 
 
 ftlart.gttoom. — Coiton. 
 
 TTE that dies a Martyr, proves that he was not a Knave, but by 
 no means that he was not a Fool. 
 
 fHattgrtiom. — Coiton. 
 
 'TWO things are necessary to a modern Martyr, — some to pity, 
 and some to persecute ; some to regret, and some to roast him. 
 
 Cije £&a$UZ. — Steele. 
 TT is not only paying wages, and giving commands, that consti- 
 tutes a Master of a Family; but Prudence, equal behaviour, 
 with a readiness to protect and cherish them, is what entitle a man 
 to that character in their very Hearts and Sentiments. 
 
 fHastcts antf jcetb a nt$. — Fuller. 
 
 TF thou art a Master, be sometimes Blind; if a Servant, some- 
 times Deaf. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 357 
 
 /Hatter vs. iHanner. — win. 
 
 TX composing, think much more of your Matter than your Manner. 
 To be sure, spirit, grace, and dignity of manner are of great im- 
 portance both to the speaker and writer; but of infinitely more 
 importance is the weight and worth of matter. The fashion of the 
 times is much changed since Thomson wrote his Seasons, and 
 Hervey his Meditations. It will no longer do to fill the ear only 
 with pleasant sounds, or the fancy with fine images. The mind, 
 the understanding, must be filled with solid thought. The age of 
 ornament is over, that of utility has succeeded. The "pugnaa 
 quam pompse aptius" is the order of the day, and men fight now 
 with clenched fist, not with open hand — with logic, and not with 
 rhetoric. 
 
 iHcatts an* GfrraceptioiuL— Cotton. 
 
 COME men possess Means that are great, but fritter them away in 
 the execution of Conceptions that are little; and there are 
 others who can form great Conceptions, but who attempt to carry 
 them into Execution with little Means. These two descriptions of 
 men might succeed if united, but as they are usually kept asunder 
 by Jealousy, both fail. It is a rare thing to find a combination of 
 great Means and of great Conceptions in one Mind. 
 
 fOLtbitittitj). — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "JVTINDS of moderate Calibre ordinarily condemn every thing 
 which is beyond their range. 
 
 /tfctUOCritP. — La Bmycre. 
 X\R meet with few utterly dull and stupid Souls: the Sublime 
 and Transcendent are still fewer; the generality of Mankind 
 stand between these two extremes : the interval is filled with mul- 
 titudes of ordinary Geniuses, but all very useful, and the ornaments 
 and supports of the Commonwealth. 
 
 ftleTHOCCitl?.— CoUon. 
 TITERE are circumstances of peculiar Difficulty and Danger, 
 where a Mediocrity of Talent is the most fatal quantum that a 
 man can possibly possess. Had Charles the First, and Louis the 
 Sixteenth, been more Wise or more Weak, more Firm or more 
 Yielding, in either case they had both of them saved their heads. 
 
 fHelandjOlg. — Shakspeare. 
 Melancholy ! 
 Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ? find 
 The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish Carrack 
 Mi Mit eas'liest harbour in? 
 
 o 
 
358 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iHdancfjOlj). — Shakspeare. 
 
 T HAVE of late (but wherefore I know not,) lost all my Mirth, 
 foregone all custom of Exercises : and, indeed, it goes soheavilv 
 with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the Earth, seems to 
 me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the Air, look 
 you, this brave o'erhanging Firmament, this majestical Koof fretted 
 with golden Fire, why it appears no other thing to me, than a foul 
 and pestilent congregation of Vapours. 
 
 iHemorj).— Byron. 
 T>UT ever and anon of griefs subdued, 
 
 There comes a token like a Scorpion's sting, 
 Scarce seen but with fresh bitterness imbued ; 
 
 And slight withal may be the things which bring 
 
 Back on the Heart the weight which it would fling 
 Aside for ever : it may be a sound — 
 
 A tone of music — summer's eve — or spring, 
 A flower — the wind — the Ocean — which shall wound, 
 Striking the electric chain wherewith we're darkly bound ; 
 
 And how and why we know not, nor can trace 
 Home to its cloud this Lightning of the Mind, 
 
 But feel the shock renew'd, nor can efface 
 The blight and blackening which it leaves behind, 
 Which out of things familiar, undesign'd, 
 
 When least we deem of such, calls up to view 
 The Spectres whom no exorcism can bind, 
 
 The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, 
 
 The mourn'd, the loved, the lost — too many ! yet how few ! 
 
 iftletttOrp. — Goldsmith. 
 THOU, like the World, th' opprest oppressing, 
 
 Thy smiles increase the wretch's Woe ! 
 And he who wants each other blessing, 
 
 In thee must ever find a Foe. 
 
 iHnnoq?. — Goldsmith. 
 Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, 
 Swells at my Breast, and turns the Past to pain. 
 
 j3ftcmorg. — Byron. 
 "RUT in that instant, o'er his Soul 
 
 Winters of Memory seem'd to roll, 
 And gather in that drop of time 
 A life of Pain, an age of Crime : 
 O'er him who loves, or hates, or fears, 
 Such moment pours the Grief of years. 
 
OR, TIIIXGS NEW AND OLD. 359 
 
 itf cntal 3r\Q\iisl). — fi!/ro7i. 
 
 l^OR Pleasures past I do not grieve, 
 
 Nor Perils gathering near ; 
 My greatest G-rief is that I leave 
 
 No thing that claims a Tear. 
 
 iBeittal EngiUSf).— Shakspeare. 
 
 Alas, how is't with you ? 
 That you do bend your eye on Vacancy, 
 And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ? 
 Forth at your eyes your Spirits wildly peep; 
 And, as sleeping Soldiers in the alarm, 
 Your bedded hair, like Life in excrements, 
 Starts up, and stands on end. 
 
 itfnttal HnfllUS j. — Shakspeare. 
 
 His flaw'd Heart, 
 (Alack, too weak the conflict to support !) 
 'Twixt two extremes of passion, Joy and Grief, 
 Burst smilingly. 
 
 /Hetttal HttgUtSfj. — Shakspeare. 
 "VyHEN I would pray and think, I think and pray 
 
 To several subjects : Heaven in my mouth, 
 As if I did but only chew His name; 
 And in my Heart, the strong and swelling evil 
 Of my Conception. 
 
 ffitnta I .HttgUtSf) . — Byron. 
 T FLY, like a Bird of the air, 
 
 In search of a home and a rest ; 
 A balm for the sickness of Care : 
 A Bliss for a bosom unblest. 
 
 SB r n t a I H n g u t sf) . — Milton. 
 
 TJETIRING- from the popular noise, I seek 
 
 This unfrequented place to find some ease, 
 Ease to the body some, none to the mind 
 From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 
 Of Hornets arrn'd, no sooner found alone, 
 But rush upon me thronging, and present 
 Time past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 
 ffltntSLl EltgUtg j. — Shakspeare. 
 
 What is in thy Mind, 
 That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks that sigh 
 From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus, 
 Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd 
 Beyond self-explication. 
 
 2f2 
 
360 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 T^ 
 
 iHctttal &ttgUt0fj,— Shdkspeare. 
 LL me, what is't that takes from thee 
 Thy stomach, Pleasure, and thy golden Sleep; 
 Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the Earth ; 
 And start so often, when thou sitt'st alone ? 
 Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; 
 And given my treasures, and my rights of thee, 
 To thick-eyed Musing, and cursed Melancholy ? 
 In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, 
 And heard thee murmur tales of iron Wars, 
 And all the currents of a heady Fight. 
 Thy Spirit within thee hath been so at war, 
 And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, 
 That beads of Sweat have stood upon thy brow, 
 Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream : 
 And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, 
 Such as we see, when men restrain their Breath 
 On some great sudden haste. Oh what Portents are these ? 
 
 Rental ^ngtusf), — Milton. 
 
 Oh might I here 
 In solitude live Savage, in some glade 
 Obscured, where highest woods impenetrable 
 To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad 
 And brown as evening : cover me ye Pines, 
 Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more. 
 
 i$nttai HttgUtSf). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Grieved I, I had but one ? 
 
 Chid I for That at frugal Nature's frame? 
 I've one too much by thee. Why had I one? 
 Why ever wast thou lovely in my eyes ? 
 Why had I not, with charitable hand, 
 Took up a Beggar's issue at my gates? 
 Who smeer'd thus, and mired with infamy, 
 I might have said, no part of it is mine; 
 This Shame derives itself from unknown loins: 
 But mine, and mine I loved, and mine I praised, 
 And mine that I was proud on, mine so much, 
 That I myself was to myself not mine, 
 Valuing of her; why, she, — Oh, she is fall'n 
 Into a pit of Ink, that the wide Sea 
 Hath drops too few to wash her clean again ; 
 And Salt too little which may season give 
 To her foul tainted Flesh ! 
 
/?, TIIIXG S NE W A XD OLD. 361 
 
 iHflttal HngiUSfj. — Skakspeare. 
 
 JJETWEEN the acting of a dreadful thing, 
 
 And the first motion, all the interim is 
 Like a Phautasma, or a hideous dream : 
 The Genius, and the mortal instruments, 
 Are then in council ; and the state of a man, 
 Like to a little Kingdom, suffers then 
 The nature of an insurrection. 
 
 fHctttal ftltgUfe!. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 31 Y Mind is troubled like a Fountain stirr'd; 
 And I myself see not the bottom of it. 
 
 Jttttltai .EttfrUtslj. — Byron. 
 
 To be thus — 
 Gray-hair' d with anguish, like these blasted pines, 
 Wrecks of a single Winter, barkless, branchless, 
 A blighted trunk upon a cursed root, 
 Which but supplies a feeling to decay — 
 And to be thus, eternally but thus, 
 Having been otherwise ! Xow furrow'd o'er 
 With wrinkles, plough'd by moments, not by Years; 
 And hours — all tortured into ages — hours 
 Which I outlive ! Ye toppling crngs of Ice ! 
 Ye Avalanches, whom a breath draws down 
 In mountainous overwhelming, come and crush me! 
 I hear ye momently above, beneath, 
 Crash with a frequent Conflict ; but ye pass, 
 And only fall on things that still would live. 
 
 iHwtai KngiltSij.— Joanna BaUlie. 
 /~\II that I were upon some desert coast! 
 
 Where howling Tempests and the Lashing Tide 
 Would stun me into deep and senseless Quiet ! 
 Come Madness ! come unto me, senseless Death ! 
 I cannot suffer this ! Here, rocky wall, 
 Scatter these Brains, or dull them ! 
 
 iHctttfll Hnguisfj. — ShaJcspeare. 
 T r ET could I bear that too ; well, very well : 
 
 But there, where I have garner' d up my Heart; 
 Where either I must live, or bear no Life; 
 The fountain from the which my current runs, 
 Or else dries up; to be discarded thence ! 
 Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads 
 To knot and gender in ! turn thy Complexion there ! 
 Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd Cherubin; 
 Ay, there, look grim as Hell ! 
 
H>2 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ffltXltUl HligutSi). — Skakspeare. 
 
 Had it pleased Heaven 
 To try me with Affliction ; had he rain'd 
 All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare Head; 
 Steep'd me in Poverty to the very lips ; 
 Given to Captivity me and my utmost hopes ; 
 I should have found in some part of my Soul 
 A drop of Patience : but (alas !) to make me 
 A fixed figure, for the type of Scorn 
 To point his low, unmoving finger at, — 
 Oh! Oh! 
 
 iBeittal &ngUfeJ, — Skakspeare. 
 
 Pr'ythee, lead me in : 
 There take an inventory of all I have, 
 To the last penny; 'tis the King's ; my robe, 
 And my integrity to Heaven, is all 
 I dare now call my own. Cromwell, Cromwell, 
 Had I but served my God with half the zeal 
 I served my King, he would not in mine age 
 Have left me naked to mine Enemies. 
 
 i^Clttal £Uigiltgl).— Skakspeare. 
 "\\rE'LL no more meet, no more see one another : 
 
 But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my Daughter, 
 Or, rather, a Disease that's in my flesh, 
 Which I must needs call mine ; thou art a boil, 
 A plague-sore, or imboss'd Carbuncle, 
 In my corrupted Blood : But I'll not chide thee. 
 
 iBCHtal &ttgttt0f). — Byron. 
 T OOK on me in my Sleep, 
 
 Or watch my watchings — Come and sit by me ! 
 My Solitude is Solitude no more, 
 But peopled with the Furies : — I have gnash'd 
 My teeth in darkness till returning morn, 
 Then cursed myself till sunset; — I have pray'd 
 For Madness as a blessing — 'tis denied me. 
 
 jBcntal iclntJUtSf). — Skakspeare. 
 
 ("WNST thou not minister to a Mind diseased; 
 
 Pluck from the Memory a rooted Sorrow ; 
 Haze out the written troubles of the Brain ; 
 And, with some sweet oblivious Antidote, 
 Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, 
 Which weighs upon the Heart? 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 8(53 
 
 iBwtal RnQUi$l). — ShaIcspeare. 
 Some strange commotion 
 Is in his Brain : he bites his Lip, and starts : 
 Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, 
 Then lays his finger on his Temple; straight, 
 Springs out into fast gait ; then, stops again, 
 Strikes his Breast hard ) and anon, he casts 
 His eye against the Moon; in most strange postures 
 "We have seen him set himself. 
 
 iBental HnrriU'gf). — Shakspeare. 
 f\ VANITY of Sickness ! fierce extremes, 
 
 In their continuance, will not feel themselves. 
 Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, 
 Leaves them insensible ; and his Siege is now 
 Against the Mind, the which he pricks and wounds 
 With many Legions of strange fantasies , 
 Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, 
 Confound themselves. 
 
 S<™ E 
 
 iHcrCJ). — Spenser. 
 clarkes doe doubt in their devicefull art 
 Whether this Heavenly thing whereof I treat, 
 To weeten Mercie, be of Justice part, 
 
 Or drawne forth from her by divine entreate; 
 This well I wote, that sure she is as great, 
 And meriteth to have as high a place, 
 
 Sith in the Almightie's everlasting seat, 
 She first was bred, and born of heavenly race, 
 From thence pour'd down on men by influence of Grace 
 
 J8eWg.— Moore. 
 
 C\¥ God she sung, and of the mild 
 
 Attendant Mercy, that beside 
 His awful throne for ever smiled, 
 
 Ready, with her white hand, to guide 
 His bolts of vengeance to their prey — 
 That she might quench them on their way ! 
 
 itf CtCJ). — Shakspeare. 
 
 How would you be, 
 If He, which is the top of Judgment, should 
 But judge you as you are ? Oh, thiuk on that, 
 And Mercy then will breathe within your lips, 
 Like man new made. 
 
364 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 j&tercg; — Shakspeare. 
 'THE quality of Mercy is not strain'd : 
 
 It droppeth, as the gentle rain from Heaven 
 Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; 
 It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 
 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 
 The throned Monarch better than his Crown : 
 His Sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
 The attribute to awe and majesty, 
 Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 
 But Mercy is above this scepter' d sway, 
 It is an attribute to God himself; 
 And earthly power doth then show likest God's, 
 When Mercy seasons Justice. 
 
 Consider this, — 
 That, in the course of Justice, none of us 
 Should see Salvation : we do pray for Mercy ; 
 And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
 The deeds of Mercy. 
 
 iHerCJ), — Shakspeare. 
 Wilt thou draw near the nature of the Gods ? 
 Draw near them then in being merciful : 
 Sweet Mercy is Nobility's true badge. 
 
 irUltrit. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Elevation is to Merit what Dress is to a handsome person. 
 
 i$lC Ctf . — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THERE is Merit without Elevation, but there is no Elevation 
 without some Merit. 
 
 if¥lcrit» — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THE mark of extraordinary Merit is to see those most envious 
 of it constrained to praise. 
 
 iBcrit. — La Bruyere. 
 1" AM told so many ill things of a man, and I see so few in him, 
 that I begin to suspect he has a real but troublesome Merit, as 
 being likely to eclipse that of others. 
 
 ffiitxit. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 'THE art of being able to make a good use of moderate abilities 
 wins Esteem, and often confers more Reputation than real 
 Merit. 
 
 irHfrit. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Nature creates Merit, and Fortune brings it into play. 
 
OR, THIXGS XEW AXD OLD. 365 
 
 iBerit — Queen Christina. 
 Merit is bom with Men; happy those with whom it dies. 
 
 £Birib.— Goldsmith. 
 THHE Little Mind who loves itself, will write and think with the 
 vulgar ; but the Great Mind will be bravely eccentric, and 
 scorn the beaten road, from universal Benevolence. 
 
 Hfcmfc.— swift, 
 
 A wise Man is never less alone, than when he is alone. 
 
 £Bh\ti. — GaUus. 
 X\E> in vain summon the Mind to intense application, when the 
 Body is in a languid state. 
 
 iHmtl. — Cotton. 
 TF the most skilful Musician in the world were placed before an 
 unstrung or broken instrument, he could not produce the Har- 
 mony which he was accustomed to do when that instrument was 
 perfect, nay, on the contrary, the sounds would be discordant; and 
 yet it would be manifestly most illogical to conclude, from such 
 an effect, that the powers of the Musician were impaired, since 
 they merely appeared to be so from the imperfection of the instru- 
 ment. Now what the Instrument is to the Musician, the Brain 
 may be to the Mind, for aught we know to the contrary; and to 
 pursue the figure, as the musician has an existence distinct from that 
 of the instrument, so the Mind may have an existence distinct from 
 that of the Brain ; for in truth we have no proof whatever of 
 Mind being a property dependent upon any arrangement of Matter. 
 We perceive, indeed, the properties of Matter wonderfully modi- 
 fied in the various things of the Universe, which strike our senses 
 with the force of their Sublimity or Beauty ; but in all these we re- 
 cognise certain radical and common properties, that bear no con- 
 ceivable relation to those mysterious capacities of Thought and of 
 Feeling, referable to that something which, to designate and dis- 
 tinguish from Matter, we term Miud. In this way, I conceive, 
 the Common Sense of Mankind has made the distinction which 
 everywhere obtains between Mind and Matter; for it is natural 
 to conclude, that the essence of Mind may be distinct from the 
 essence of Matter, as the operations of the one are so distinct from 
 the properties of the other. But when we say that Mind is 
 immaterial, we only mean that it has not the properties of Matter; 
 for the consciousness which informs us of the operations, does not 
 reveal the abstract nature of Mind, neither do the properties reveal 
 the essence of Matter. 
 
366 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iffimS.— Fuller. 
 
 "-JAIID, rugged, and dull natures of youth acquit themselves 
 afterward the Jewels of the Countrey, and therefore their 
 dulnesse at first is to be borne with, if they be diligent. That 
 schoolmaster deserves to be beaten himself who beats Nature in a 
 boy for a fault. And I question whether all the whipping in the 
 world can make their parts, which are naturally sluggish, rise one 
 minute before the houre Nature hath appointed. 
 
 fflitib. — Nbvalis. 
 A CERTAIN degree of Solitude seems necessary to the full 
 growth and spread of the highest Mind ; and therefore must a 
 very extensive Intercourse with Men stifle many a holy germ, and 
 scare away the gods, who shun the restless tumult of noisy Com- 
 panies and the discussion of petty Interests. 
 
 Jftflft. — CeUon. 
 
 \\TE may also doubt about the existence of Matter as learnedly 
 and as long as we please, as some have done before us, and 
 yet we shall not establish the existence of Matter by any such 
 dubitatious ; but the moment we begin to doubt about the exist- 
 ence of Mind, the very act of doubting proves it. 
 
 j&ht}!. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 JNTREPIDITY is an extraordinary strength of Mind, which 
 raises it above the troubles, the disorders, and the emotions, 
 which the sight of great perils is calculated to excite ; it is by this 
 strength that Heroes maintain themselves in a tranquil state of 
 Mind, and preserve the free use of their Reason under the most 
 surprising and terrible circumstances. 
 
 £&int}. — Terence. 
 ~^"0 man was ever so completely skilled in the conduct of Life, as 
 nit to receive new information from Age and Experience; in- 
 somuch that we find ourselves really ignorant of what we thought 
 we understood, and see cause to reject what we fancied our truest 
 Interest. 
 
 fQiixCbr—AtuM. 
 
 'THE blessing of an active Mind, when it is in a good condition, is, 
 that it not only employs itself, but is almost sure to be the 
 means of giving wholesome Employment to others. 
 
 /B hill. — La Bruyere. 
 THE Mind, like all other things, will become impaired; the 
 Sciences are its food; they nourish, but at the same they con« 
 suiue it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. mi 
 
 ffiitfil.—Babo. 
 
 A S it is in himself alone that Man can find true and enduring 
 Happiness, so in himself alone can he find true and efficient 
 Consolation in Misfortune. 
 
 £&in&. — Seneca. 
 A S the Soil, however rich it may be, cannot be productive without 
 "" Culture, so the Mind without Cultivation can never produce 
 good Fruit. 
 
 ffliinii. — Lord Cheater field. 
 "PRIVOLOUS Curiosity about trifles, and laborious attention to 
 little objects, which neither require nor deserve a moment's 
 thought, lower a Man, who from thence is thought (and not un- 
 justly) incapable of greater Matters. Cardinal de Retz very sa- 
 gaciously marked out Cardinal Chigi for a little mind, from the 
 moment he told him that he had wrote three years with the same 
 Pen, and that it was an excellent good one still. 
 
 JHtnti. _ Seneca. 
 'TO see a man fearless in Dangers, uutaiuted with Lusts, happy 
 in Adversity, composed in a tumult, and laughing at all those 
 things which are generally either coveted or feared, all men must 
 acknowledge that this can be nothing else but a beam of Divinity 
 that influences a mortal body. 
 
 .fH info. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\TE find means to cure Folly, but none to reclaim a distorted 
 TT Mind. 
 
 /£ttnu\ — rope. 
 f BELIEVE it is no wrong observation, that persons of Genius, 
 and those who are most capable of Art, are always most fond 
 of Nature : as such are chiefly sensible, that all Art consists in the 
 imitation and study of Nature. On the contrary, people of the 
 common level of understanding are principally delighted with the 
 little niceties and fantastical operations of Art, and constantly think 
 that finest which is least natural. 
 
 JHmu\ — Fuller. 
 TF thou desirest Ease, in the first place take care of the Ease of 
 thy Mind ; for that will make all other sufferings easy : But 
 nothing can support a Man whose Miud is wounded. 
 
 i^flttttJ. — Shakspeare. 
 "POR Nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
 
 In Thews and Bulk ; but as this Temple waxes, 
 The inward service of the Mind and Soul 
 Grows wide withal. 
 
 2G 
 
368 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 j$lilVu\ — ShaJcspeare. 
 'Tis the Mind that makes the Body rich ; 
 And as the Sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 
 So Honour poereth in the meanest habit. 
 What, is the Jay more precious than the Lark, 
 Because his Feathers are more beautiful ? 
 Or is the Adder better than the Eel, 
 Because his painted skin contents the eye ? 
 
 Minti. — Goldsmith. 
 A MIND too vigorous and active serves only to consume the 
 Body to which it is joined, as the richest Jewels are soonest 
 found to wear their Settings. 
 
 Mints. — Colton. 
 TTE that has no resources of Mind, is more to be pitied than he 
 who is in want of necessaries for the Body; and to be obliged 
 to beg our daily Happiness from others, bespeaks a more lament- 
 able Poverty than that of him who begs his daily bread. 
 
 J&mK — Goldsmith. 
 "pOB, just Experience tells, in ev'ry soil, 
 
 That those who think must govern those that toil ; 
 And all that Freedom's highest aims can reach 
 Is but to lay proportion'd loads on each. 
 
 Mint!.— Young. 
 Our outward act, indeed, admits restraint, 
 'Tis not in things o'er Thought to domineer; 
 Guard well thy Thoughts : our Thoughts are heard in Heaven 
 
 jTOnfc. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 This man so complete, 
 Who was enrolFd 'mongst wonders, and when we, 
 Almost with list'ning ravish'd, could not find 
 His hour of speech, a minute ; he, my Lady, 
 Hath into monstrous Habits put the Graces 
 That once were his ; and is become as black, 
 As if besmear'd in Hell. 
 
 MiritS. — Brown. 
 THERE is a Rabble amongst the Gentry, as well as the Common- 
 alty, a sort of plebeian heads, whose fancy moves with the same 
 wheel as these men — in the same level with mechanics ; though their 
 Fortunes do somewhat gild their infirmities, and their Purses com- 
 pound for their Follies. 
 
 Cfte Mints. — Young. 
 A Soul without Reflection, like a Pile 
 Without Inhabitant, to ruin runs. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 869 
 
 Cf)e fflUnti.—Anon. 
 A WEAK Mind sinks under Prosperity, as well as under Ad- 
 versity. A strong and deep Mind has two highest tides, — 
 when the Moon is at the full, and when there is no Moon. 
 
 Miritl SlnCUlttbatetr. — ShaJcspeare. 
 'Tis an unweeded Garden, 
 That grows to Seed ; things rank, and gross in nature, 
 Possess it merely. 
 
 ffllXtf). — Peter Pindar. 
 Care to our Coffin adds a nail, no doubt ; 
 And ev'ry Grin so merry draws one out. 
 
 ifttserteg. — Coiton. 
 
 CjMALL Miseries, like small Debts, hit us in so many places, and 
 meet us at so many turns and corners, that what they want in 
 weight, they make up in number, and render it less hazardous to 
 stand the fire of one Cannon Ball, than a Volley composed of such 
 a shower of Bullets. 
 
 fflimkZ. — Greville. 
 TT is often better to have a great deal of Harm to happen to one 
 than a little : a great deal may rouse you to remove what a little 
 will only accustom you to endure. 
 
 ffliZZtitX. — S/iakspeare. 
 A/TEN'S natures wrangle with inferior things, 
 
 Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so; 
 For let our Finger ache, and it indues 
 Our other healthful members ev'n to that sense 
 Of Pain. 
 
 Mmim.—Phdarch. 
 
 AS small letters hurt the Sight, so do small matters him that is 
 too much intent upon them : they vex and stir up Anger, 
 which begets an evil habit in him in reference to greater Affairs. 
 
 i^lt'Serj). — ShaJcspeare. 
 Famine is in thy cheeks, 
 Need and Oppression starveth in thy eyes, 
 Upon thy back hangs ragged Misery, 
 The world is not thy Friend, nor the world's law. 
 
 JJfltStfOrtUttCS. — Joanna Baillic. 
 Those who bear Misfortunes over meekly 
 Do but persuade mankind that they and Want 
 Are all too fitly match'd to be disjoin'd, 
 And so to it they leave them. 
 
 24 
 
370 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ffliSfOXtVLXlt.— Addison. 
 A Soul exasperated in ills, falls out 
 With every thing, its Friend, itself. 
 
 iBtSfOCtUne. — Shakspeare. 
 r THO' now this grained face of mine be hid 
 In sap-consuming Winter's drizzled snow, 
 And all the conduits of my Blood froze up ; 
 Yet hath my night of life some memory ; 
 My wasting lamp some fading Glimmer left, 
 My dull, deaf ears a little use to hear. 
 
 iftltgftlttune. — Shakspeare. 
 'TIME hath not yet so dried this Blood of mine, 
 
 Nor Age so eat up my invention, 
 Nor Fortune made such havock of my Means, 
 Nor my bad life reft me so much of Friends 
 But they shall find awaked, in such a kind, 
 Both strength of limb, and policy of Mind, 
 Ability in Means, and choice of Friends 
 To quit me of them thoroughly. 
 
 MitifOXtUM. — Shakspeare. 
 A LL things, that we ordained Festival, 
 
 Turn from their office to black Funeral : 
 Our instruments to melancholy bells ; 
 Our Wedding cheer to a sad burial feast ; 
 Our solemn Hymns to sullen Dirges change ; 
 Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, 
 And all things change them to the contrary. 
 
 ffliZiOXtUnt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\TE have all of us sufficient Fortitude to bear the Misfortunes of 
 others. 
 
 ffliXfOKtUm. — SJiakspeare. 
 T^HOU were better in thy Grave than to answer with thy unco- 
 vered body this extremity of the Skies. — Is man no more than 
 this ? Consider him well : Thou owest the Worm no silk, the 
 Beast no hide, the Sheep no wool, the Cat no perfume : unaccom- 
 modated Man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as 
 thou art. 
 
 ffliZfOXtUXlt. — Shakspeare. 
 Sick in the World's regard, wretched and low. 
 
 ffllSf M\im.— Mallet. 
 Who hath not known 111- fortune, never knew 
 Himself, or his own Virtue. 
 
OR, TETNGS NEW AND OLD. 371 
 
 iHlSfortUTte. — Shakspeare. 
 
 My May of life 
 Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf: 
 And that which should accompany old Age, 
 As Honour, Love, Obedience, troops of Friends, 
 I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, 
 Curses, not loud, but deep, Mouth-honour, breath, 
 Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. 
 
 J® t0ft)ttutte. — Shdkspeare. 
 "VT Y blood, my want of strength, my sick heart, shows 
 
 That I must yield my body to the Earth, 
 And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. 
 Thus yields the Cedar to the axe's edge, 
 Whose arms gave shelter to the princely Eagle, 
 Under whose shade the ramping Lion slept ; 
 Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree 
 And kept low shrubs from Winter's powerful wind. 
 
 iEltSftirtUne. — Shdkspeare. 
 A most poor man, made tame by Fortune's blows ; 
 Who, by the art of known and feeling Sorrows, 
 Am pregnant to good Pity. 
 
 JEtSfortUTte. — Shakspeare. 
 Myself, 
 
 Who had the world as my Confectionary, 
 
 The mouths, the tongues, the eyes, and hearts of men 
 
 At duty, more than I could frame employment ; 
 
 That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves 
 
 Do on the Oak, have with one Winter's brush 
 
 Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare 
 
 For every Storm that blows. 
 
 iHtSfCrttme* — Shakspeare. 
 This world to me is like a lasting Storm, 
 Whirring me from my Friends. 
 
 JHt£tfOrtUttC. — Shakspeare. 
 Good stars, that were my former guides, 
 Have empty left their Orbs, and shot their fires 
 Into the abysm of Hell. 
 
 iHiSftrtime. — Shakspeare. 
 \y HAT, are my doors opposed against my passage ? 
 
 Have I been ever free, and must my house 
 Be my retentive Enemy, my Gaol ? 
 The place, which I have feasted, does it now, 
 Like all Mankind, show me an iron Heart? 
 2g2 
 
372 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iBt'SfortUtte.— ghakspeare. 
 "JIS certain, Greatness, once fallen out with Fortune, 
 Must fall out with men too : What the declined is, 
 He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, 
 As feel in his own fall : for men, like Butterflies, 
 Show not their mealy wings, but to the summer; 
 And not a man, for being simply Man, 
 Hath any Honour j but honour for those Honours 
 That are without him, as Place, Riches, Favour, 
 Prizes of accident as oft as Merit : 
 Which when they fall, as being slippery standers, 
 The Love that lean'd on them as slippery too, 
 Do one pluck down another, and together 
 Die in the fall. 
 
 MittfQXtUVLZ. — Shakspeare. 
 
 To some kind of men, 
 Their graces serve them but as enemies. — 
 Oh, what a World is this, when what is comely 
 Envenoms him that bears it ! 
 
 jTOgfOrtUlte. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, sick to Death : 
 My legs, like loaden branches, bow to the earth, 
 Willing to leave their Burden. 
 
 iHtSftirtime. — From the French. 
 MISFORTUNES are, in Morals, what bitters are in medicine : 
 each is at first disagreeable ) but as the bitters act as corro- 
 borants to the stomach, so Adversity chastens and ameliorates the 
 disposition. 
 
 iHtSfortUne. — From the French. 
 TT is much better to endeavour to forget one's Misfortunes, than 
 to speak often of them. 
 
 J$tSUSe. _ Shakspeare. 
 
 Oh, who shall believe 
 But you misuse the Reverence of your place ; 
 Employ the countenance and Grace of Heaven, 
 As a false favourite doth his Prince's name, 
 In deeds dishonourable ? 
 
 Cf)e i£tO&.— Thomson. 
 
 Inconstant, blind, 
 Deserting Friends at need, and duped by Foes ; 
 Loud and seditious, when a Chief inspired 
 Their headlong fury, but, of him deprived, 
 Already Slaves that lick'd the scourging hand. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 373 
 
 Cje ffltib. — Bryden. 
 
 The Scum 
 That rises upmost, when the Nation boils. 
 
 Cf)e fflot.— Joanna Baillie. 
 "TIS ever thus : Indulgence spoils the base ; 
 
 Raising up Pride, and lawless Turbulence, 
 Like noxious vapours from the fulsome Marsh 
 When Morning shines upon it. 
 
 Cf)e MM.— Mackenzie. 
 
 ly/TANKIND in the gross is a Gaping Monster, that loves to be 
 deceived, and has seldom been disappointed. 
 
 Cf)e JHofc.— Otway. 
 These wide-mouth'd brutes, that bellow thus for Freedom ; 
 Oh ! how they run before the hand of Pow'r, 
 Flying for shelter into every Brake ! 
 
 itfotierattcm. — Shahspeare. 
 HPHEY are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve 
 with nothing. It is no mean Happiness, therefore, to be seated 
 in the mean : Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but Com- 
 petency lives longer. 
 
 i$ Operation. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TV/T ODERATION is a fear of falling into envy, and into the Con- 
 tempt which those deserve who become intoxicated with their 
 Good Fortune ; it is a vain ostentation of the strength of our 
 mind ; in short, the Moderation of men in their highest elevation 
 is a desire of appearing greater than their Fortune. 
 
 iHotierattOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "TV/TODERATION is like Temperance : we should wish to eat 
 more, but are afraid of injuring our health. 
 
 iHotJCSt)). — Steele. 
 A MODEST person seldom fails to gain the Goodwill of those he 
 converses with, because nobody envies a aislu who does not ap- 
 pear to be pleased with himself. 
 
 iHotJCSt}}. — Young 
 That modest Grace subdued my soul ; 
 That chastity of look, which seems to hang 
 A veil of purest light o'er all her Beauties. 
 
 iHotieStg Shakspeare. 
 
 T ASK, that I might waken Reverence, 
 
 And bid the cheek be ready with a blush, 
 Modest as Morning when she coldly eyes 
 The youthful Phoebus. 
 
374 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 _ KHctoeStg."— ShaJcspeare. 
 T'HE chariest maid is prodigal enough, 
 
 If she unmask her beauty to the Moon : 
 Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes : 
 The canker galls the infants of the Spring, 
 Too oft before their buttons be disclosed ; 
 And in the morn and liquid dew of Youth, 
 Contagious blastments are most imminent. 
 Be wary then : best Safety lies in Fear. 
 
 i$lCrtie0tj). — La Bruyere. 
 jyjODESTY is to Merit as Shades to Figures in a Picture ; giving 
 it Strength and Beauty. 
 
 iTOotreiStg* — Addison. 
 A JUST and reasonable Modesty does not only recommend Elo- 
 quence, but sets off every great talent which a man can be 
 possessed of: it heightens all the Virtues which it accompanies; 
 like the Shades in Paintings, it raises and rounds every Figure, and 
 makes the colours more beautiful, though not so glaring as they 
 would be without. 
 
 MtitMit!). —Hughes. 
 
 ^/[ERE Bashfulness without Merit is awkward : and Merit without 
 Modesty is insolent. But Modest Merit has a double claim to 
 acceptance. 
 
 J&OtoStg. — Baxter. 
 
 YOU little know what you have done, when you have first broke 
 the bounds of Modesty ; you have set open the door of your 
 fancy to the Devil, so that he can, almost at his pleasure ever after, 
 represent the same sinful pleasure to you anew : he hath now 
 access to your fancy to stir up lustful Thoughts and Desires, so 
 that when you should think of your calling, or of your G-od, or of 
 your soul, your thoughts will be worse than swinish, upon the filth 
 that is not fit to be named. If the Devil here get in a foot, he will 
 not easily be got out. 
 
 M0tlt$. — Franklin. 
 T>EMEMBER that Money is of a prolific, generating nature. 
 Money can beget Money, and its offspring can beget more, and 
 so on. Five shillings turned is six : turned again it is seven and 
 threepence ; and so on till it becomes a Hundred Pounds. The 
 more there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so that the 
 profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding Sow, de- 
 stroys all her Offspring to the thousandth generation. He that 
 murders a Crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even 
 Scores of Pounds. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 375 
 
 J&Otteg, — Cotton. 
 
 r r0 cure us of our immoderate Love of Gain, we should seriously 
 consider how many goods there are that Money will not pur- 
 chase, and these the best ; and how many Evils there are that 
 Money will not remedy, and these the worst. 
 
 iBoneg aittl 2ume.— Johnson. 
 1VTONEY and Time are the heaviest burdens of Life, and the un- 
 happiest of all mortals are those who have more of either thaD 
 they know how to use. 
 
 Jftoneg. — Bouhours. 
 Money is a good Servant, but a dangerous Master. 
 
 Wf}t i^OOTt. — Byron. 
 'THE Devil's in the Moon for mischief; they 
 
 Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon 
 Their nomenclature : there is not a day, 
 The longest, not the twenty-first of June, 
 Sees half the business in a wicked way 
 On which three single hours of Moonshine smile — 
 And then she looks so modest all the while. 
 
 ittoralttl). — Longfellow. 
 ~\/| ORALITY without Religion is only a kind of dead-reckoning — 
 an endeavour to find our place on a cloudy sea by measuring 
 the distance we have to run, but without any observation of the 
 heavenly bodies. 
 
 ffl orals. — Coiton. 
 
 THERE are two principles of established acceptance in Morals ; 
 first, that Self-interest is the main spring of all our actions, and, 
 secondly, that Utility is the test of their value. Now there are 
 some cases where these maxims are not tenable, because they are 
 not true ; for some of the noblest energies of Gratitude, of Affection, 
 of Courage, and of Benevolence, are not resolvable into the first. 
 If it be said indeed that these estimable qualities may after all be 
 traced to Self-interest, because all the duties that flow from them 
 are a source of the highest Gratification to those that perform 
 them; this I presume savours rather too much of an identical pro- 
 position, and is only a round-about mode of informing us that 
 virtuous men will act virtuously. Take care of Number One, says 
 the worldling, and the Christian says so too ; for he has taken the 
 best care of Number One, who takes care that Number One shall 
 go to Heaven : that blessed place is full of those same selfish beings 
 who by having constantly done good to others, have as constantly 
 gratified themselves. I humbly conceive, therefore, that it is much 
 
370 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 nearer the Truth to say that all men have an Interest in being 
 good, than that all men are good from Interest. As to the standard 
 of Utility, this is a mode of examining human actions that looks 
 too much to the event; for there are occasions where a man may 
 effect the greatest General Good by the smallest Individual Sacri- 
 fice, and there are others where he may make the greatest Indi- 
 vidual Sacrifice, and yet produce but little General Good. If 
 indeed the Moral Philosopher is determined to do all his work with 
 the smallest possible quantity of tools, and would wish to cope with 
 the Natural Philosopher, who has explained such wonders from 
 the two simple causes of Impulse and of Gravity, in this case he 
 must look out for maxims as universal as those occasions to which 
 he would apply them. Perhaps he might begin by affirming with 
 me that — Men are the same; and this will naturally lead him to 
 another conclusion, that if men are the same, they can have but 
 one common principle of action, the Attainment of apparent Good ; 
 those two simple truisms contain the whole of my Philosophy, and 
 as they have not been worn out in the performance of one under- 
 taking, I trust they will not fail me in the execution of another. 
 
 JItorntng. — Shaksjpeare. 
 TTOW bloodily the Sun begins to peer 
 
 Above yon busky hill ! the day looks pale 
 At his distemperature. 
 
 The southern Wind 
 Doth play the Trumpet to his purposes ; 
 And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves 
 Foretells a Tempest, and a blustering day. 
 
 J&CMtmfl. — Milton. 
 l^OW the bright Morning-star, Day's harbinger, 
 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose. 
 
 JHormng.— Beattie. 
 
 T>UT who the melodies of Morn can tell ? 
 
 The wild Brook babbling down the mountain's side; 
 The lowing Herd; the sheepfold's simple Bell; 
 
 The Pipe of early Shepherd dim descried 
 
 In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide 
 The clamorous Horn along the cliffs above ; 
 
 The hollow murmur of the Ocean tide ; 
 The hum of Bees, the linnet's lay of Love, 
 And the full Choir that wakes the universal Grove 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 377 
 
 itfornttttj.— Byron. 
 "DUT mighty Nature bounds as from her birth : 
 
 The sun is in the Heavens, and life on Earth; 
 Flowers in the Valley, splendour in the Beam, 
 Health on the Gale, and freshness in the Stream. 
 
 jHowtng.— Scott. 
 
 Y\/~HAT various scenes, and, oh! what scenes of Wo, 
 Are witness'd by that red and struggling beam ! 
 The fever' d Patient, from his pallet low, 
 
 Through crowded hospitals beholds it stream; 
 The ruin'd Maiden trembles at its gleam, 
 
 The Debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail, 
 The Love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 
 
 The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
 Trims her sick Infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. 
 
 i^lOWtng. — Byron. 
 THHE Morn is up again, the dewy Morn, 
 
 With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, 
 Laughing the clouds away with playful Scorn, 
 And living as if Earth contain'd no tomb, — 
 And glowing into Day. 
 
 itfOWtng. — Dryden. 
 'THE Morning Lark, the messenger of Day, 
 
 Saluted in her song the Morning gray, 
 And soon the Sun arose with beams so bright 
 That all th' horizon laugh'd to see the joyous sight; 
 He with his tepid rays the Rose renews, 
 And licks the drooping leaves, and dries the Dews. 
 
 itfOWtng.— ' Webster. 
 THHE Morning itself, few people, inhabitants of cities, know any 
 thing about. Among all our good people, not one in a thousand 
 sees the sun rise once in a year. They know nothing of the morn- 
 ing. Their idea of it is that it is that part of the day which comes 
 along after a cup of coffee and a beef-steak or a piece of toast. 
 With them, morning is not a new issuing of light, a new bursting 
 forth of the sun, a new waking-up of all that has life from a sort 
 of temporary death, to behold again the works of God, the heaven? 
 and the earth : it is only a part of the domestic day, belonging to 
 reading newspapers, answering notes, sending the children to school, 
 and giving orders for dinner. The first streak of light, the earliest 
 purpling of the east, which the lark springs up to greet, and the 
 deeper and deeper colouring into orange and red, till at length the 
 " glorious sun is seen, regent of the day" — this they never enjoy, 
 
378 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 for they never see it. I never thought that Adam had much the 
 advantage of us from having seen the world while it was new. The 
 manifestations of the power of Grod, like his mercies, are " new 
 every morning" and fresh every moment. We see as fine risings 
 of the sun as ever Adam saw ; and its risings are as much a miracle 
 now as they were in his day — and, I think, a good deal more, because 
 it is now a part of the miracle, that for thousands and thousands of 
 years he has come to his appointed time, without the variation of 
 a millionth part of a second. Adam could not tell how this might 
 be. I know the morning — I am acquainted with it, and I love it. 
 I love it fresh and sweet as it is — a daily new creation, breaking 
 forth and calling all that have life and breath and being to new 
 adoration, new enjoyments, and new gratitude. 
 
 Mtotmng.— ma<m. 
 
 Awake 
 
 My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
 Heaven's last Gift, my ever new delight, 
 Awake; the Morning shines, and the fresh field 
 Calls us ; we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
 Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove, 
 What drops the Myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
 How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee 
 Sits on the bloom. 
 
 iHorOSetteSS. — Bacon. 
 "VTEN" possessing minds which are morose, solemn, and inflexible, 
 enjoy, in general, a greater share of Dignity than of Happiness. 
 
 i$0ttb££>. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\T^ should often have reason to be ashamed of our most brilliant 
 Actions, if the world could see the Motives from which they 
 spring. 
 
 Cfje JHountam gltr — Byron. 
 
 Oh ! there is sweetness in the Mountain Air, 
 
 And Life, that bloated Ease can never hope to share. 
 
 JHurtiet. — Shakspeare. 
 Beyond the infinite and boundless reach 
 Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of Death, 
 Art thou damn'd. 
 
 J&unnurmg. — Coiton. 
 
 \/[ URMUR at nothing ; if our ills are reparable, it is ungrateful j 
 if remediless, it is vain. 
 
 iBu0tC. — Collins. 
 Music, sphere-descended maid, 
 Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 370 
 
 /HU01C. — Slmkspeare. 
 T)0 but note a wild and wanton herd, 
 
 Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, 
 Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 
 Which is the hot condition of their Blood ; 
 If they but hear perchance a Trumpet sound, 
 Or any air of Music touch their ears, 
 You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 
 Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze, 
 By the sweet power of Music : Therefore, the poet 
 Did feign, that Orpheus drew Trees, stones, and floods ; 
 Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 
 But Music for the time doth change his nature. 
 The man that hath no Music in himself, 
 Nor is not moved with Concord of sweet Sounds, 
 Is fit for Treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 
 The motions of his Spirit are dull as night, 
 And his affections dark as Erebus : 
 Let no such man be trusted. 
 
 j$tU0tC. — Greville. 
 A GOOD ear for music, and a taste for Music are two very differ- 
 ent things which are often confounded : and so is comprehend 
 ing and enjoying every object of Sense and Sentiment. 
 
 i£lUStC. — Shakspeare. 
 T^rHEN griping Grief the Heart doth wound, 
 
 And doleful dumps the Mind oppress, 
 Then Music, with her silver sound, 
 
 With speedy help doth lend redress. 
 
 fflUSiC — Moore. 
 
 JV/TUSIC ! — oh ! how faint, how weak, 
 
 Language fades before thy spell ! 
 Why should Feeling ever speak, 
 
 When thou can'st breathe her Soul so well ? 
 Friendship's balmy words may feign, 
 
 Love's are ev'n more false than they ; 
 Oh ! 'tis only Music's strain 
 
 Can sweetly soothe, aad not betray ! 
 
 iHugitC. — Montgomery. 
 Through every pulse the Music stole, 
 And held sublime communion with the Soul; 
 Wrung from the coyest Breast the imprison'd sigh, 
 And kindled rapture in the coldest Eye. 
 
 2 11 
 
880 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 fflUBiC — Pope. 
 
 "RY Music, minds an equal temper know, 
 Nor swell too high, nor sink too low : 
 If in the Breast tumultuous joys arise, 
 Music her soft assuasive voice applies ; 
 
 Or, when the Soul is press' d with cares, 
 
 Exalts her in enliv'ning airs. 
 Warriors she fires with animated sounds, 
 Pours balm into the bleeding Lover's wounds : 
 
 Melancholy lifts her head, 
 
 Morpheus rouses from his bed, 
 
 ►Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, 
 
 List'ning Envy drops her snakes; 
 Intestine War no more our passions wage, 
 And giddy Factions hear away their rage. 
 
 $&U8it. — Seattle. 
 
 TS there a Heart that Music cannot melt 1 
 Alas ! how is that rugged heart forlorn ; 
 Es there, who ne'er those mystic transports felt 
 
 Of Solitude and Melancholy born ! 
 
 He needs Dot woo the Muse; he is her scorn. 
 The sophist's rope of cobweb he shall twine ; 
 
 Mope o'er the schoolman's peevish page ; or mourn, 
 And delve for life in Mammon's dirty mine; 
 Sneak with the scoundrel Fox, or grunt with glutton Swine. 
 
 JHuStC — Moore. 
 T?OR mine is the Lay that lightly floats, 
 
 And mine are the murmuring dying notes, 
 That fall as soft as Snow on the sea, 
 And melt in the Heart as instantly ! 
 And the passionate strain that, deeply going, 
 
 Refines the Bosom it trembles through, 
 
 As the musk-wind, over the water blowing, 
 
 Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too ! 
 
 $ftuStC. — Shalcspeare. 
 PREPOSTEROUS ass ! that never read so far 
 To know the cause why Music was ordain'd I 
 Was it not to refresh the mind of man, 
 After his studies, or his usual Pain ? 
 
 j$tU0tC. — Shahspeare. 
 This Music crept by me upon the waters ; 
 Allaying both their Fury, and my Passion, 
 With its sweet Air. 
 
OR, THING S NEW AND OLD. 381 
 
 Jlfl£0ttf& — Chesterfield. 
 A PROPER Secrecy is the only mystery of able Men ; Mystery is 
 the only Secrecy of weak and cunning ones. 
 
 JHpsterp, — Coiton. 
 
 Mystery magnifies Danger, as a fog the Sun. 
 
 JHgStetJ). — Tom Brown. 
 /CONSIDER that the trade of a vintner is a perfect Mystery, (for 
 that is the term the law bestows on it;) now, as all Mysteries 
 in the world are wholly supported by hard and unintelligible terms, 
 so you must take care to christen your Wines by some hard names, 
 the farther fetched so much the better; and this policy will serve 
 to recommend the most execrable stuff in all your collar. A plau- 
 sible name to an indifferent Wine is what a gaudy title is to a Fop, 
 or fine clothes to a Woman : it helps to conceal the defects it has, 
 and bespeaks the world in its favour. Men naturally love to be 
 cheated, and provided the imposition is not too barefaced, will meet 
 you half-way with all their Hearts. 
 
 $Jutoet Of £LamtB. — Zimmerman. 
 "YyiTH the vulgar, and the learned, Names have great weight ; 
 the wise use a writ of inquiry into their legitimacy when they 
 are advanced as authorities. 
 
 Carroll) fflirib.— Addison. 
 
 A MAN who has been brought up among Books, and is able to 
 
 talk of nothing else, is a very indifferent companion, and what 
 
 we call a Pedant. But we should enlarge the title, and give it to 
 
 every one that does not know how to think out of his Profession 
 
 and particular way of Life. 
 
 iJlattoto £&iritl. — La Bnu/ere. 
 gHORT-SIGHTED people,— I mean such who have but narrow 
 Conceptions, never extended beyond their own little sphere, — 
 cannot comprehend that universality of Talents which is sometimes 
 observable in one person. They allow no solidity in whatever is 
 agreeable : or when they see in any one the graces of the Body, 
 activity, suppleness, and dexterity, they conclude he wants the en- 
 dowments of the Mind, Judgment, Prudence, and Perspicacity 
 Let History say what it will, they will not believe that Socrates 
 ever danced. 
 
 dFall Of glatitiM. — Bacon. 
 I"N the Youth of a state, Arms do flourish : in the Middle Age of 
 a state, Learning; and then both of them together for a time; 
 iD the Declining Age of a state, Mechanical Arts and Merchandise 
 
382 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jFall Of Jettons. — Byron. 
 THERE is the moral of all human tales; 
 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, 
 First Freedom, and then Glory — when that fails, 
 Wealth, Vice, Corruption — Barbarism at last. 
 And History, with all her volumes vast, 
 Hath but one page. 
 
 jjlattonal (Character. — ciay. 
 
 A NATION'S Character is the sum of its splendid deeds; they 
 
 constitute one common patrimony, the nation's inheritance. 
 
 They awe foreign powers, they arouse and animate our own people 
 
 i&atUte.— Young. 
 
 T OOK Nature through, 'tis revolution all ; 
 
 All change ; no Death. Day follows Night ; and Night 
 The dying Day : Stars rise, and set, and rise ; 
 Earth takes th' example. See, the Summer gay, 
 With her green chaplet, and ambrosial flowers, 
 Droops into pallid Autumn : Winter gray, 
 Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, 
 Blows Autumn, and his golden fruits, away : 
 Then melts into the Spring : soft Spring, with breath 
 Favonian, from warm chambers of the south, 
 Recalls the first. All, to re-flourish, fades ; 
 As in a wheel, all sinks, to reascend. 
 Emblems of Man, who passes, not expires. 
 
 Jiattire. — Shakspeare. 
 TTATH not old custom made this life more sweet 
 
 Than that of painted Pomp ? Are not these woods 
 More free from peril than the envious Court ? 
 Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
 The Season's difference ; as, the icy fang, 
 And churlish chiding of the Winter's wind ; 
 Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
 Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — 
 This is no flattery ; these are Counsellors 
 That feelingly persuade me what I am. 
 And this our Life, exempt from public haunt, 
 Finds tongues in Trees, books in the running Brooks, 
 Sermons in Stones, and good in every thing. 
 
 jEatUte. — Milton. 
 In contemplation of created things 
 By steps we may ascend to God. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 383 
 
 Jiaturc — Skakspeare. 
 
 All love the womb that their first beings bred. 
 
 Mature. — Young. 
 Who lives to Nature, rarely can be poor ; 
 Who lives to Fancy, never can be rich. 
 
 Mature. — Thomson. 
 
 Who can paint 
 Like Nature ? Can Imagination boast, 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every Bud that blows ? 
 
 JiatUte.— Byron. 
 
 XTOT vainly did the early Persian make 
 His Altar the high places and the peak 
 
 Of earth — o'er gazing mountains, and thus take 
 A fit and unwall'd Temple, there to seek 
 The Spirit, in whose honour shrines are weak, 
 
 Uprear'd of Human Hands. Come, and compare 
 Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth, or Greek, 
 
 With Nature's realms of worship, Earth and Air, 
 
 Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer ! 
 
 fiatUte. — Thomson. 
 "W"ATURE ! Great Parent! whose unceasing hand 
 
 Rolls round the seasons of the changeful year, 
 How mighty, how majestic, are thy works ! 
 With what a pleasing Dread they swell the soul ! 
 That sees astonish'd ! and astonish'd sings ! 
 
 Mature. — Byron. 
 
 T IVE not the Stars and Mountains ? Are the waves 
 
 Without a Spirit ? Are the dropping caves 
 Without a feeling in their silent Tears ? 
 No, No ; — they woo and clasp us to their spheres, 
 Dissolve this clog and clod of clay before 
 Its hour, and merge our Soul in the great shore. 
 
 ill a t U X t . — Sha kspeare . 
 THE Earth, that's Nature's mother, is her tomb; 
 What is her burying Grave, that is her womb : 
 And from her womb, children of divers kind, 
 We sucking on her natural Bosom find ; 
 Many for many virtues excellent, 
 None but for some, and yet all different. 
 
 2n2 
 
384 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3!ahlU. — Bt/ron. 
 'J'HERE'S Music in the sighing of a reed; 
 
 There's Music in the gushing of a rill; 
 There's Music in all things, if men had ears ; 
 Their Earth is but an echo of the spheres. 
 
 iJiatUte. — Byron. 
 
 T^HERE rose the Mountains, there to him were friends ; 
 Where roll'd the Ocean, thereon was his home ; 
 
 Where a blue sky, and glowing clime extends, 
 He had the Passion and the power to roam : 
 The Desert, Forest, Cavern, Breaker's foam, 
 
 Were unto him companionship ; they spake 
 A mutual language, clearer than the tone 
 
 Of his land's Tongue, which he would oft forsake 
 
 For Nature's pages glass'd by sunbeams on the lake. 
 
 iHature.— Beattie. 
 
 f\ NATURE, how in every charm supremo ! 
 
 Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! 
 Oh for the voice and fire of Seraphim, 
 
 To sing thy Glories with devotion due ! 
 
 Blest be the day I 'scaped the wrangling cew, 
 From Pyrrho's maze, and Epicurus' sty ; 
 
 And held high converse with the godlike frw, 
 Who to th' enraptured Heart, and ear, and eye, 
 Teach Beauty, Virtue, Truth, and Love, and Melody 
 
 JlatUre, — Dryden. 
 T>Y viewing Nature, Nature's handmaid, Art, 
 
 Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow : 
 Thus Fishes first to Shipping did impart, 
 Their tail the Rudder, and their head the Prow. 
 
 CEE, through this Air, this Ocean, and this Earth, 
 
 All matter quick, and bursting into birth. 
 Above, how high progressive life may go ! 
 Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! 
 Vast chain of Being ! which from G-od began, 
 Nature's ethereal, human, angel, man; 
 Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect — what no eye can see, 
 No glass can reach, from infinite to Thee, 
 From Thee to nothing. 
 
 £latUtC.— Juvenal. 
 Nature never says that which Wisdom will contradict. 
 
OR, TfflXGS NEW AXD OLD. 385 
 
 l&ature. — c&wper. 
 
 Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd 
 Please daily, and whose novelty survives 
 Long Knowledge and the scrutiny of Years. 
 
 Jfiattire, — Shdkspeare. 
 OH, mickle is the powerful grace that lies 
 
 In Herbs, Plants, Stones, and their true qualities : 
 For naught so vile, that on the earth doth live, 
 But to the Earth some special good doth give ; 
 Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, 
 Eevolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse ; 
 Virtue itself turns Vice, being misapplied; 
 And Vice sometime's by action dignified. 
 
 Iliatttre. — Anon. 
 
 A NY tiling may become Nature to Man : the rare thing is to find 
 a Nature that is truly natural. 
 
 i^atlire. — Anon. 
 Jtf ATURE is mighty. Art is mighty. Artifice is weak. For 
 Nature is the work of a mightier power than Man. Art is the 
 work of Man under the guidance and inspiration of a mightier 
 power. Artifice is the work of mere Man in the imbecility of his 
 mimic understanding. 
 
 jUattlte. — Longfellow. 
 "ptfATURE alone is permanent. Fantastic idols may be worshipped 
 for awhile ; but at length they are overturned by the continual 
 and silent progress of Truth, as the grim statues of Copan have 
 been pushed from their pcde^als by the growth of forest-trees, 
 whose seeds were sown by the wind in the ruined walls. 
 
 (SOOti ilature.— Dryden. 
 /^j-OOD Sense and Good Nature are never separated, though the 
 ignorant world has thought otherwise. Good Nature, by 
 which I mean Beneficence and Candour, is the product of Eight 
 Reason 
 
 Cfje i^egattbe. — Grevau. 
 
 'INHERE is in some men a dispassionate Neutrality of Mind, 
 which, though it generally passes for Good Temper, can neither 
 gratify nor warm us : it must indeed be granted that these men can 
 only negatively offend; but then it should also be remembered that 
 they cannot positively please. 
 
 3T|)e Jiegattfce. — Lavater. 
 TTE that has no Friend and no Enemy is one of the vulgar; and 
 without Talents, Powers, or Energy. 
 
386 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CijC Jiegattbe* — Shenstone. 
 TITHAT numbers live to the age of fifty or sixty years ! yet, if 
 estimated by their Merit, are not worth the price of a Chick 
 the moment it is hatched. 
 
 Cf)e $Lt\toWa$W.— Bishop HorTie. 
 'THE follies, vices, and consequent miseries of multitudes, dis- 
 played in a Newspaper, are so many admonitions and warnings, 
 so many Beacons, continually burning, to turn others from the 
 Rocks on which they have been shipwrecked. 
 
 iRetoSpaper JftarbelS. — Fisher Ames. 
 TT seems really as if our Newspapers were busy to spread super- 
 stition. Omens, and dreams, and prodigies are recorded, as if 
 they were worth minding. The increasing fashion for printing 
 wonderful tales of crimes and accidents is worse than ridiculous, as 
 it corrupts both the public taste and morals. It multiplies fables, 
 prodigious monsters, and crimes, and thus makes shocking things 
 familiar; while it withdraws all popular attention from familiar 
 truth, because it is not shocking. Surely, extraordinary events 
 have not the best title to our studious attention. To study nature 
 or man, we ought to know things that are in the ordinary course, 
 not the unaccountable things that happen out of it. 
 
 i&tgfjt. — Shakspeare. 
 TTOW sweet the Moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 
 
 Here will we sit, and let the sounds of Music 
 Creep in our ears ; soft Stillness, and the Night 
 Become the touches of sweet Harmony. 
 Look, how the floor of Heav'n 
 Is thick inlaid with patines jf bright gold ; 
 There's not the smallest Orb, which thou behold' st, 
 But in his motion like an Angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed Cherubins ; 
 Such harmony is in immortal sounds ! 
 But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it. 
 
 iEtgf)t. — Spenser. 
 TJNDER thy mantle black ther hidden lye 
 
 Light-shonning Thefte, and traiterous Intent, 
 Abhorr'd Bloodshed, and vile Felony, 
 
 Shameful Deceipt and Daunger imminent, 
 Fowle Horror, and eke Hellish Dreriment. 
 
 iHtgfjt. — Byron. 
 
 The Night 
 Shows Stars and Women in a better light. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 387 
 
 jatgf)t Byron. 
 
 ,r riS Midnight: on the Mountain's brown 
 
 The cold, round Moon shines deeply down : 
 Blue roll the waters, blue the sky 
 Spreads like an Ocean hung on high, 
 Bespangled with those isles of ight, 
 So wildly, spiritually bright; 
 Who ever gazed upon them shining, 
 And turn'd to Earth without repining, 
 Nor wish'd for Wings to flee away, 
 And mix with their eternal ray. 
 
 JItgi)t. — Young. 
 'THE Sun went down in clouds, and seem'd to mourn 
 
 The sad necessity of his return ; 
 The hollow wind, and melancholy rain, 
 Or did, or was imagined, to complain : 
 The tapers cast an inauspicious light ; 
 Stars there were none, and doubly dark the Night. 
 
 i2,tgt)t. — Spenser. 
 "foTOW gan the golden Phoebus for to steepe 
 
 His fierie face in billowes of the west, 
 And his faint Steedes watred in Ocean deepe. 
 Whiles from their journall labours they did rest. 
 
 JLtjjfjt. — Spenser. 
 
 TITHERE griesly Night, with visage deadly sad, 
 That Phoebus' chearefull face dust never vew, 
 
 And in a foul e blacke pitchy Mantle clad, 
 
 She findes forth coming from her darksome mew, 
 Where she all day did hide her hated hew ; 
 
 Before the dore her yron Charet stood 
 Already harnessed for a journey new; 
 
 And coleblacke steeds yborne of Hellish brood, 
 
 That on their rusty bits did champ as they were wood. 
 
 £f)e PA^X, — Milton. 
 TTTHY sleep'st thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time, 
 
 The cool, the silent, save where Silence yields 
 To the Night-warbling Bird, that now awake, 
 Tunes sweetest his love-labour'd song ; now reigns 
 Full-nrb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing light 
 Shadowy sets-off the face of things; in vain, 
 If none regard. 
 
388 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cfjei^iflilk— Byron. 
 
 In her starry shade 
 Of dim and solitary Loveliness, 
 I learn the language of another World. 
 
 &f)e i&tg|)t —Byron. 
 
 All is gentle : naught 
 Stirs rudely ; but congenial with the Night, 
 Whatever walks is gliding like a Spirit. 
 
 CJ)eilit3i)t. — Byron. 
 TTOW sweet and soothing is this hour of Calm ! 
 
 I thank thee, Night ! for thou hast chased away 
 These horrid bodements which, amidst the throng. 
 I could not dissipate : and with the Blessing 
 Of thy benign and quiet influence 
 Now will I to my couch, although to rest 
 Is almost wronging such a Night as this. 
 
 $Hi$L—Southeij. 
 How beautiful is Night ! 
 A dewy freshness fills the silent air, 
 No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, 
 
 Breaks the serene of Heaven : 
 In full orb'd Glory yonder Moon divine 
 
 Rolls through the dark blue depths. 
 Beneath her steady ray 
 The desert circle spreads 
 Like the round Ocean, girdled with the sky. 
 
 Jitgf)t. — Young. 
 £)ARKNESS has divinity for me j 
 
 It strikes thought inward ; it drives back the Soul 
 To settle on herself, our point supreme ! 
 There lies our Theatre : there sits our judge. 
 Darkness the curtain drops o'er Life's dull scene; 
 'Tis the kind hand of Providence stretch' d out 
 'Twixt Man and Yanity : 'tis Reason's reign, 
 And Virtue's too ; these tutelary shades 
 Are Man's asylum from the tainted throng. 
 Night is the good man's friend, and guardian too; 
 It no less rescues Virtue, than inspires. 
 
 iEt0!)t. — Shakspeare. 
 T)ARK Night, that from the Eye his function takes, 
 
 The Ear more quick of Apprehension makes ; 
 Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, 
 It pays the hearing double recompense. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 889 
 
 Cfje Jitirijt. — Young. 
 "^"IGHT, sable Goddess ! from her ebon throne, 
 
 In rayless Majesty, now stretches forth 
 Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'ring world. 
 Silence, how dead ! and Darkness, how profound ! 
 Nor eye, nor list'ning ear, an object finds ; 
 Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse 
 Of Life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; 
 An awful pause ! prophetic of her end. 
 
 Cf)C iRtgt)t — Young. 
 T'HIS sacred Shade, and Solitude, what is it ? 
 
 'Tis the felt presence of the Deity. 
 Few are the faults we flatter when alone. 
 Vice sinks in her allurements, is ungilt, 
 And looks, like other objects, black by Night. 
 By Night an Atheist half-believes a God. 
 
 Cfje i&tgf) t. — Young. 
 TTOW is Night's sable mantle labour'd o'er, 
 
 How richly wrought with attributes divine ! 
 What Wisdom shines ! what Love ! This Midnight pomp, 
 This gorgeous Arch, with golden worlds inlaid ! 
 Built with divine Ambition. 
 
 Cije isugfjtmgale, — shakspeare. 
 
 'THE Nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
 
 When every Goose is cackling, would be thought 
 No better a Musician than the wren. 
 How many things by season season'd are 
 To their right praise and true Perfection ! 
 
 Cf)e Jitgfjtmgale.— Milton. 
 
 Q NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
 Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still ; 
 
 Thou with fresh hope the Lover's heart doth fill, 
 While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. 
 Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day, 
 
 First heard before the shallow Cuckoo's bill, 
 
 Portend success in Love ; Oh, if Jove's will 
 Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay, 
 
 Now timely sing, ere the rude Bird of hate 
 Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh ; 
 
 As thou from year to year hast sung too late 
 For my relief, yet had'st no reason why : 
 
 Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate, 
 Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 
 
390 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cfje Jitfljthijjale.— -MMm. 
 
 Sweet Bird that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most Melancholy ! 
 
 Cf)e iBLigf) tin gale, — Southern. 
 Thus perch'd all Night alone in shady groves, 
 Tunes her soft voice to sad complaints of Love, 
 Making her life one great harmonious wo. 
 
 i&OtnlttJ). — Spenser. 
 ^AIN-GrLORIOUS Man, when fluttering wind does blow 
 In his light winges, is lifted up to skye ; 
 The scorne of Knighthood and trew Chevalrye, 
 To thinke, without desert of gentle deed, 
 And noble worth, to be advanced hye, 
 Such Praise is shame; but Honour, Vertue's meed, 
 Doth bear the fayrest flowre in honourable seed. 
 
 jEolulttn.— Joanna Baillie. 
 Even to the dullest Peasant standing by, 
 Who fasten'd still on him a wondering Eye, 
 He seem'd the master spirit of the Land. 
 
 i&Obeltg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 New Customs, 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. 
 
 <£atf)£u — Shakspeare. 
 The gods are deaf to hot and peevish Vows ; 
 They are polluted Offerings, more abhorr'd 
 Than spotted livers in the Sacrifice. 
 
 (©atf)0» — Shakspeare. 
 
 Do not give Dalliance 
 Too much the rein ; the strongest Oaths are straw 
 To the fire i' the Blood ; be more abstemious, 
 Or else ! 
 
 <©atf)#. — Butler. 
 r^ATHS were not purposed, more than Law, 
 
 To keep the good and just in awe, 
 But to confine the bad and sinful, 
 Like moral Cattle, in a pinfold. 
 
 (©foetlteitce. — Shakspeare. 
 Let them obey that know how to rule. 
 
 (©fct&tettCC. — Goldsmith. 
 17ILTAL Obedience is the first and greatest requisite of a State ; 
 by this we become good subjects to our Emperors, capable of 
 
OR, THIXG S NEW AND OLD. 391 
 
 behaving with just subordination to our superiors, and grateful 
 dependants on Heaven; by this we become fonder of Marriage, in 
 order to be capable of exacting Obedience from others in our turn : 
 by this we become good Magistrates ; for early Submission is the 
 truest lesson to those who would learn to rule. By this the whole 
 State may be said to resemble one Family. 
 
 (BMiqatimi. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\TE are always much better pleased to see those whom we have 
 obliged, than those who have obliged us. 
 
 (DuSerbattcm. — Lavater. 
 TTE alone is an acute Observer, who can observe minutely with 
 out being observed. 
 
 Ohserbatton.— wm. 
 
 T>ERHAPS there is no property in which men are more strikingly 
 distinguished from each other, than in the various degrees in 
 which they possess this faculty of Observation. The great herd of 
 mankind, the " fruges consumere nati," pass their lives in listless in- 
 attention and indifference as to what is going on around them, being 
 perfectly content to satisfy the mere cravirjgs of nature, while those 
 who are destined to distinction have a lynx-eyed vigilauce that 
 nothing can escape. You see nothing of the Paul Pry in them ; 
 yet they know all that is passing, and keep a perfect reckoning, not 
 only of every interesting passage, but of all the characters of the 
 age who have any concern in them. 
 
 Uulgat (Dustmacj). — Swift. 
 
 There are lew, very few, that will own themselves in a Mistake. 
 
 Small (Offences. — Grevffle. 
 
 A VERY Small Offence may be a just cause for great Resent- 
 ment; it is often much less the particular instance which is 
 obnoxious to us, than the proof it carries with it of the general 
 tenor and disposition of the Mind from whence it sprung. 
 
 (©CCUpattOn. — Sir PMip Sidney. 
 "PVERY base Occupation makes one sharp in its practice, and 
 dull in every other. 
 
 (DSlCC. — Shakspeare. 
 'THOU hast seen a Farmer's dog bark at a beggar ? 
 
 And the Creature run from the Cur ? 
 There thou might'st behold the great image of Authority : a Dog'g 
 obeyed in Office. 
 
 (Df&Ce. — Shakspeare. 
 Could great men thunder 
 As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, 
 
 21 
 
S92 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 For every pelting, petty Officer 
 
 Would use his Heaven for thunder : nothing but thunder.— 
 
 Merciful Heaven ! 
 
 Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 
 
 Split'sl. the unwedgeable and gnarled Oak, 
 
 Than the soft Myrtle !— Oh ! but Man, proud Man, 
 
 Brest in a little brief Authority — 
 
 Most ignorant of what he's most assured, 
 
 His glassy essence, — like an angry Ape, 
 
 Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, 
 
 As make the Angels weep. 
 
 (©mtSStOn. — Shakspeare. 
 Q MISSION to do what is necessary 
 
 Seals a commission to a blank of Danger ; 
 And Danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
 Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 
 
 (©prnton.— Swift, 
 
 HPHAT was excellently observed, say I, when I read a passage in 
 an Author, where his Opinion agrees with mine. 
 
 Opttttmt. — Colton. 
 TT will be possible to have one set of Opinions for the high, and 
 "*■ another for the low, only when they cease to see by the same 
 Sun, to respire by the same Air, and to feel by the same Senso- 
 rium. For Opinions, like showers, are generated in high places, 
 but they invariably descend into low ones, and ultimately flow 
 down to the People, as the rains unto the Sea. 
 
 (Bpinitm. — Cicero. 
 ^"0 liberal man would impute a charge of Unsteadiness to another 
 for having changed his opinion. 
 
 (©pportumtj). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Take the instant way ; 
 For Honour travels in a strait so narrow, 
 Where one but goes abreast : keep then the path : 
 For Emulation hath a thousand sons, 
 That one by one pursue : If you give way, 
 Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, 
 Like to an enter'd Tide, they all rush by, 
 And leave you hindmost; — 
 Or, like a gallant Horse fallen in first rank, 
 Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 
 O'er-run and trampled on. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 393 
 
 Opportunity. — Shakspeare. 
 
 TTNRULY blasts wait on the tender spring ; 
 
 Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers ; 
 The Adder hisses where the sweet birds sing ; 
 
 What Virtue breeds, Iniquity devours : 
 
 We have no good that we can say is ours : 
 But ill annexed Opportunity 
 Or kills his life, or else his quality. 
 
 O Opportunity ! thy G-uilt is great : 
 'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's Treason ; 
 
 Thou set'st the Wolf where he the Lamb may get; 
 Whoever plots the Sin, thou 'point'st the Season ; 
 'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason; 
 And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him, 
 Sits Sin, to seize the Souls that wander by him. 
 Thou mak'st the Vestal violate her oath : 
 
 Thou blow'st the fire when Temperance is thaw'd ; 
 Thou smother'st Honesty, thou murder'st Troth ; 
 
 Thou foul abettor ! thou notorious bawd ! 
 
 Thou plantest Scandal and displacest laud : 
 Thou ravisher, thou Traitor, thou false thief, 
 Thy Honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief! 
 
 Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, 
 Thy private feasting to a public fast ; 
 
 Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name ; 
 Thy sugar' d tongue to bitter Wormwood taste : 
 Thy violent Vanities can never last. 
 How comes it then, vile Opportunity, 
 Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee ? 
 
 When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend, 
 And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd ? 
 
 When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end ? 
 Or free that soul which Wretchedness hath chain'd ? 
 Give Physic to the sick, Ease to the pain'd ? 
 The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee ; 
 But they ne'er meet with Opportunity. 
 The Patient dies while the Physician sleeps; 
 
 The Orphan pines while the Oppressor feeds; 
 Justice is feasting while the Widow weeps; 
 
 Advice is sporting while Infection breeds ; 
 
 Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds; 
 Wrath, Envy, Treason, Rape, and Murder's rages, 
 Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages. 
 
 When Truth and Virtue have to do with Thee, 
 A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid; 
 
394 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 They buy thy help : but Sin ne'er gives a fee, 
 He gratis comes j and thou art well appay'd, 
 As well to hear as grant what he hath said. 
 Guilty thou art of Murder and of Theft; 
 
 Guilty of Perjury and Subornation ; 
 Guilty of Treason, Forgery, and Shift ; 
 
 Guilty of Incest, that abomination : 
 
 An accessary by thine inclination 
 To all sins past, and all that are to come, 
 From the Creation to the General Doom. 
 
 ©PPOttimttg- — ShaJcspeare. 
 'J'HERE is a Tide hf the affairs of men, 
 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to Fortune; 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their Life 
 Is bound in shallows, and in miseries : 
 And we must take the Current when it serves, 
 Or lose our ventures. 
 
 (©PPOrtimttg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 He had not dined : 
 The veins unfill'd, our Blood is cold, and then 
 We pout upon the morning, are unapt 
 To give or to forgive : but when we have stuff' d 
 These Pipes and these conveyances of our Blood 
 With wine and feeding, we have suppler Souls. 
 
 ©PPOttUttttg. — ShaJcspeare. 
 A little Fire is quickly trodden out ; 
 Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench. 
 
 (©PPOrtimttJ), — Pliny. 
 JJO man possesses a genius so commanding that he can attain 
 Eminence, unless a subject suited to his talents should present 
 itself, and an Opportunity occur for their development. 
 
 (DpportUttttg, — Greville. 
 'THERE sometimes wants only a stroke of Fortune to discover 
 numberless latent good or bad qualities, which would otherwise 
 have been eternally concealed j as words written with a certain 
 liquor appear only when applied to the Fire. 
 
 ©pportUttttP. — From the Latin. 
 OPPORTUNITY has Hair in front, behind she is bald ; if you 
 seize her by the forelock, you may hold her, but, if suffered to 
 escape, not Jupiter himself can catch her again. 
 
 (DppreSStCin. — ShaJcspeare. 
 The smallest Worm will turn, being trodden on ; 
 And Doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood. 
 
1?, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 39; 
 
 ©ppteSSCOn. — Shakspeare. 
 
 You must not think, 
 That we are made of stuff so flat and dull, 
 That we can let our Beard be shook with Danger, 
 And think it Pastime. 
 
 (DppceSStOn. — Tacitus. 
 A DESIRE to resist Oppression is implanted in the nature of 
 A Man. 
 
 Cfje (Drator. — Pnor. 
 
 AND 'tis remarkable, that they 
 
 Talk most that have the least to say. 
 Your dainty Speakers have the curse, 
 To plead their causes down to worse : 
 As Dames, who native Beauty want, 
 Still uglier look the more they paint. 
 
 Cf)e <&XatOt. — Spenser. 
 THEREFORE the vulgar did about him flocke, 
 
 And cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine, 
 (Like foolish Flies about an Hony-crocke,) 
 In hope by him great benefite to gaine, 
 And uncontrolled Freedome to obtaine. 
 
 (DrtfCt antJ <&bt*tiimct. — S/tak.ycare. 
 "WHILE that the armed Hand doth fight abroad, 
 
 The advised Head defends itself at home : 
 For Government, though high, and low, and lower, 
 Put into parts, doth keep in one consent ; 
 Congruing in a full and natural close, 
 
 Like Music 
 
 Therefore doth Heaven divide 
 The state of Man in divers functions, 
 Setting endeavour in continual motion; 
 To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, 
 Obedience : for so work the Honey-bees ; 
 Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach 
 The act of order to a peopled Kingdom. 
 They have a King, and Officers of sorts : 
 Where some, like Magistrates, correct at home ; 
 Others, like Merchants, venture trade abroad; 
 Others, like Soldiers, armed in their stings, 
 Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds • 
 Which pillage they with meiry march bring home 
 To the tent-royal of their Emperor : 
 Who, bu>ied in his Majesty, surveys 
 2i2 
 
396 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 The singing Masons, building roofs of gold j 
 The civil Citizens kneading up the honey ; 
 The poor mechanic porters crowding in 
 Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate ; 
 The sad-eyed Justice, with his surly hum, 
 Delivering o'er to executors pale, 
 The lazy yawning Drone. I this infer, — 
 That many things, having full reference 
 To one consent, may work contrariously : 
 As many Arrows, loosed several ways, 
 Fly to one mark ; 
 
 As many several ways meet in one Town ; 
 As many fresh streams run in one self Sea* 
 As many lines close in the Dial's centre ; 
 So may a thousand actions, once afoot, 
 End in one purpose, and be all well borne 
 Without defeat. 
 
 (©rigtnalttg. — Coiton. 
 
 1VTEN of strong minds, and who think for themselves, should not 
 be discouraged on finding occasionally that some of their best 
 Ideas have been anticipated by former writers j they will neither 
 anathematize others with a pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerint, 
 nor despair themselves. They will rather go on in Science, like 
 John Hunter in Physics, discovering things before discovered, until, 
 like him, they are rewarded with a terra, hitherto incognita in the 
 Sciences, an Empire indisputably their own, both by right of con- 
 quest and of Discovery. 
 
 (©rtgtttalttg. — Anon. 
 
 They who have Light in themselves, will not revolve as Satellites. 
 
 Ornament. — Shakspeare. 
 TOEING- season'd with a gracious voice, 
 
 Obscures the show of evil. In Religion, 
 What damned error, but some sober brow 
 Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
 Hiding the grossness with fair Ornament? 
 
 ^axatim. — 3futon. 
 
 "^JNDER a tuft of shade that on the green 
 
 Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh Fountain side 
 They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
 Of their sweet gard'ning labour than sufficed 
 To recommend cool Zephyr, and made Ease 
 More easy, wholesome Thirst and Appetite 
 More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell. 
 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 397 
 
 parliaments. — Franklin. 
 
 Tin?/ assemble Parliaments and Councils, to have the benefit of 
 tneir collected Wisdom ; but we necessarily have, at the same 
 *ime, the inconveniences of their collected passions, prejudices, and 
 private interests. By the help of these, artful men overpower their 
 Wisdom, and dupe its possessors. 
 
 patting. — Shalspeare. 
 What ! gone without a word? 
 Ay, so true Love should do : it cannot speak ; 
 For Truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it. 
 
 IPartg SptCtt. — Washington. 
 'THERE is an opinion that Parties in free countries are useful 
 checks upon the administration of the government, and serve to 
 keep alive the spirit of liberty. This, within certain limits, is 
 probably true ; and, in governments of a monarchical cast, pa- 
 triotism may look with indulgence, if not with favour, upon the 
 spirit of party. But in those of the popular character, in govern- 
 ments purely elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From 
 their natural tendency, it is certain there will always be enough of 
 that spirit for every salutary purpose. And there being constant 
 danger of excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, 
 to mitigate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands 
 a uniform vigilance to prevent it bursting into a flame, lest, instead 
 of warming, it should consume. 
 
 &f)e ^aSStOnS. — Spenser. 
 T^THAT Warre so cruel, or what siege so sore 
 As that which strong affections doe apply 
 Against the forte of Reason evermore, 
 
 To bring the Soul into captivity ? 
 
 Their force is fiercer through infirmity 
 Of the fraile Flesh, relenting to their rage, 
 
 And exercise most bitter tyranny 
 Upon the partes, brought into their bondage : 
 No wretchedness is like to sinful villenage. 
 
 Ef)e ^aSStOltg. — Byron. 
 A LAS ! our young Affections run to waste, 
 
 Or water but the desert; whence arise 
 But weeds of dark Luxuriance, Tares of haste, 
 Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes, 
 Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies, 
 And trees whose gums are poison; such the plants 
 Which spring beneath her steps as Passion flies 
 O'er the World's wilderness, and vainly pants 
 For some celestial fruit, forbidden to our wants. 
 
398 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)e tyamonz.—LMo. 
 
 Exalted souls, 
 Have Passions in proportion violent, 
 Resistless, and tormenting : they're a tax 
 Imposed by Nature on pre-eminence, 
 And Fortitude, and Wisdom must support them. 
 
 WtyZ tyamonZ. — Moore. 
 
 A LAS ! too well, too well they know, 
 
 The pain, the penitence, the Wo, 
 That Passion brings down on the best, 
 The wisest and the loveliest. 
 
 Cf)e ^asstoras. — Crabu. 
 
 (}H how the Passions, insolent and strong, 
 
 Bear our weak minds their rapid course along; 
 Make us the madness of their will obey; 
 Then die, and leave us to our griefs a Prey ! 
 
 Wi)Z 13a0!StOraL — Byron. 
 CHE stopt, and raised her head to speak, but paused 
 
 And then moved on again with rapid pace; 
 Then slacken'd it, which is the march most caused 
 
 By deep Emotion : you may sometimes trace 
 A feeling in each footstep, as disclosed 
 
 By Sallust in his Catiline, who, chased 
 By all the demons of all Passions, show'd 
 Their work even by the way in which he trode. 
 
 Cfje ^amonz. — Burke. 
 
 T N doing good, we are generally cold, and languid, and sluggish ; 
 and of all things afraid of being too much in the right. But 
 the works of Malice and Injustice are quite in another style. They 
 are finished with a bold masterly hand ; touched as they are with 
 the Spirit of- those vehement Passions that call forth all our Ener- 
 gies, whenever we oppress and persecute. 
 
 Cije ItoStOttS. — Scott. 
 TTIS soul, like bark with rudder lost, 
 
 On Passion's changeful tide was tost ; 
 Nor Vice nor Virtue had the power 
 Beyond the impression of the hour; 
 And oh, when Passion rules, how rare 
 The hours that fall to Virtue's share. 
 
 W§z ^amanz.— Fuller. 
 
 TTOLD not Conference, debate, or Reasoning with any Lust; tis 
 but a preparatory for thy Admission of it. The way is at the 
 very first flatly to deny it. 
 
/?, T II IN G S XE W A XI) L D. 399 
 
 Cf)e $JaSStOnS. — Shaftesbury. 
 A MAX is by nothing so much himself, as by his Temperand the 
 character of his Passions and Affections. If he loses what is 
 manly and worthy in these, he is as much lost to himself, as when 
 he loses his Memory and Understanding. 
 
 Ct)e $as80tOW5. — Cumberland. 
 TPHE Passions may be humoured till they become our master, as 
 a Horse may be pampered till he gets the better of his rider ; 
 but early discipline will prevent Mutiny, and keep the helm in the 
 hands of Reason. 
 
 Cfje passions. — miotson. 
 
 TC~0 man's body is as strong as his appetites, but Heaven has cor- 
 rected the boundlessness of his voluptuous desires by stinting 
 his strength and contracting his capacities. 
 
 Cf)e ^aSSUmS. — Byron. 
 'THE Nightingale that sings with the deep thorn, 
 
 Which Fable places in her breast of wail, 
 Is lighter far of Heart and voice than those 
 Whose headlong Passions form their proper Woes. 
 
 Cije ^88810110. — Claudian. 
 TyHAT profits us, that we from Heaven derive 
 
 A Soul immortal, and with looks erect 
 Survey the stars, if, like the brutal kind, 
 We follow where our Passions lead the way ? 
 
 Qll)Z ^aSStOTlS.— La Rochefoucauld. 
 r rHE Passions are the only orators that always persuade : they are, 
 as it were, a natural Art, the rules of which are infallible ; and 
 the simplest man, with Passion, is more persuasive than the most 
 eloquent without it. 
 
 2Tf)e $JaiS0tOtt0. — From the French. 
 T'HE Passions act as Winds to propel our vessel, our Reason is 
 the Pilot that steers her; without the Winds she would not 
 move, without the Pilot she would be lost. 
 
 Cfje passions. — Sprat. 
 
 T>ASSION is the great mover and spring of the Soul ; when men's 
 Passions are strongest, they may have great and noble Effects; 
 but they are then also apt to fall into the greatest miscarriages. 
 
 Cf)e ¥a&«Ottg.— Lavater. 
 
 TJE submits to be seen through a microscope, who suffers himself 
 to be caught in a fit of Passion. 
 
400 IL L US TR A TI NS F TR UTII; 
 
 T&aWiim. — Johnson. 
 
 'THE round of a passionate man's life is in contracting debts in 
 his Passion, which his Virtue obliges him to pay. He spends 
 his time in Outrage and acknowledgment, injury and Reparation. 
 
 passions, — Coiton. 
 
 DRINCES rule the People ; and their own Passions rule Princes ; 
 but Providence can overrule the whole, and draw the instru- 
 ments of his inscrutable purpose from the Vices, no less than from 
 the Virtues of Kings. 
 
 ^aS8tOtt0. — Longfellow. 
 OUR passions never wholly die ; but in the last cantos of life's 
 romantic epos, they rise up again and do battle, like some of 
 Ariosto's heroes, who have already been quietly interred, and ought 
 to be turned to dust. 
 
 Cf)0 <£0utl ^agtOr,— Byron. 
 "PATHER ! thy days have pass'd in peace, 
 
 'Mid counted beads, and countless Prayer; 
 To bid the sins of others cease, 
 Thyself without a crime or care, 
 Save transient ills that all must bear, 
 Has been thy lot, from Youth to Age. 
 
 patience.— Fuller. 
 
 JF the Wicked flourish, and thou suffer, be not discouraged. They 
 are fatted for Destruction : thou are dieted for Health. 
 
 ^attettce. — Shakspeare. 
 How poor are they that have not Patience ! 
 What wound did ever heal, but by degrees ? 
 
 patience. — Shakspeare. 
 Patience — 
 Of whose soft grace, I have her sovereign aid, 
 And rest myself content. 
 
 patience* — Shakspeare. 
 
 I DO note, 
 That Grief and Patience, rooted in him both, 
 Mingle their spurs together. 
 
 Grow, Patience ! 
 And let the stinking elder, Grief, untwine 
 His perishing root, with the increasing Vine ! 
 
 patriotism. — Shakspeare. 
 [TAD I a dozen sons, — each in my love alike, — I had rather haa 
 eleven die nobly for their county, than one voluptuously sur- 
 feit out of Action. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 401 
 
 patriotism. — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 What constitutes a State ? 
 Not high-raised Battlerneat or labour'd mound, 
 
 Thick wall or moated Grate ; 
 Not cities proud with spires and turrets crown' d ; 
 
 Not bays and broad-arm'd ports, 
 Where, laughing at the storm, rich Navies ride ; 
 
 Not starr'd and spangled courts, 
 Where low-brow'd baseness wafts perfume to Pride. 
 
 No : — men, high-minded ivien, 
 With Powers as far above dull brutes endued, 
 
 In forest, brake, or den, 
 As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; 
 
 Men, who their Duties know, 
 But know their Rights, and knowing, dare maintain, 
 
 Prevent the long-aim'd blow, 
 And crush the Tyrant, while they rend the chain : 
 
 These constitute a State. 
 
 patriotism.— Pope. 
 
 gTATESMAN, yet friend to Truth ! of soul sincere, 
 
 In action faithful, and in Honour clear ! 
 Who broke no promise, served no private end, 
 Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend; 
 Ennobled by himself, by all approved, 
 Praised, wept, and honour'd by the Muse he loved. 
 
 ^eace. — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis death to me, to be at Enmity; 
 I hate it, and desire all good men's Love. 
 
 ^Jeace. —Petrarch. 
 T7IVE great enemies to Peace inhabit with us, viz. Avarice, Am- 
 bition, Envy, Anger, and Pride, and that if those enemies wero 
 to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual Peace. 
 
 ^jJeace, — ShaJcspeare. 
 I do not know that Englishman alive, 
 With whom my Soul is any jot at odds, 
 More than the infant that is born to-night. 
 
 feasant Utfe.— Goldsmith. 
 nTHEIR level life is but a mould'ring fire, 
 
 Unquench'd by Want, unfanu'd by strong Desire : 
 Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer 
 On some high festival of once a year, 
 In wild Excess the vulgar breast takes fire, 
 Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. 
 
402 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 feasant ?itfe. — Fletcher. 
 TTTS bed of wool yields safe and quiet sleeps, 
 
 While by his side his faithful spouse hath place ; 
 His little Son into his bosom creeps, 
 
 The lively picture of his father's face : 
 Never his humble house nor state torment him ; 
 Less he could like, if less his God had sent him ! 
 And when he dies, green turfs, with grassy tomb, content 
 him. 
 
 ^enettattOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 V\nS like to divine others, but we do not like to be divined our- 
 selves. 
 
 penetration. — Grwffle. 
 
 PENETRATION seems a kind of inspiration ; it gives me an 
 idea of Prophecy. 
 
 ^ettetCattOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 pENETRATION has an air of divination, which natters our Va- 
 nity more than all the other qualities of the Mind. 
 
 penetration. —La Rochefoucauld. 
 HPHE greatest fault in Penetration is not the not reaching the 
 mark, but overshooting it. 
 
 JioiSg persons.— Pope. 
 TT is with narrow-souled people as with narrow-necked Bottles, 
 the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring 
 it out. 
 
 ItettretJ persons. —Goldsmith. 
 TT has been said that he who retires to solitude is either a Beast 
 or an Angel. The censure is too severe, and the praise un 
 merited. The discontented being who retires from society is gene- 
 rally some good-natured man, who has begun his Life without 
 Experience, and knew not how to gain it in his intercourse with 
 mankind. 
 
 ^erfeetton. — Voltaire. 
 
 PERFECTION is attained by slow degrees ; she requires the hand 
 of Time. 
 
 ^erfeettOn. — Shakspeare. 
 In speech, in gait, 
 In diet, in affections of delight, 
 In Military rules, humours of blood, 
 He was the Mark and glass, copy and Book, 
 That fashion'd others. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 403 
 
 perfection. — Chesterfield. 
 A IM at Perfection in every thing, though in most things it is un- 
 attainable. However, they who aim at it, and persevere, will 
 come much nearer to it than those whose Laziness and Despondency 
 make them give it up as unattainable. 
 
 perfection. — Shakspeare. 
 TO gild refined Gold, to paint the Lily, 
 
 To throw a perfume on the Violet, 
 To smooth the Ice, or add another hue 
 Unto the Rainbow, or with taper-light 
 To seek the beauteous eye of Heaven to garnish, 
 Is wasteful, and ridiculous. 
 
 ^lerseberance. — Lucretius. 
 
 A falling Drop at last will cave a Stone. 
 
 ^erseberance. — From the Latin. 
 
 TTE will never enjoy the sweets of the spring, nor will he obtain 
 the Honeycombs of Mount Hybla, if he dreads his face being 
 stuno;, or is annoyed by Briers. The Rose is guarded by its Thorn, 
 the Honey is defended by the Bee. 
 
 Verbetgttg GreoiUe. 
 
 QOME men put ine in mind of Half-bred Horses, which often 
 grow worse in proportion as you feed and exercise them for 
 Improvement. 
 
 13erbeCSttJ). —From the Latin. 
 We have all a propensity to grasp at Forbidden Fruit. 
 
 ^3i)tlantl)C0P5. — Cumberland. 
 TT is an old saying, that Charity begins at home ; but this is no 
 reason it should not go abroad : a man should live with the 
 world as a Citizen of the World j he may have a preference for the 
 particular quarter or square, or even alley in which he lives, but 
 he should have a generous feeling for the welfare of the whole. 
 
 ^JfjtlOSOpjjetS. — Shakspeare. 
 HPHERE was never yet Philosopher 
 
 That could endure the Toothache patiently, 
 However they have writ the style of Gods, 
 And made a push at chance and sufferance. 
 
 ^JfjtlOSOpfjJ). — ShaJcspeare. 
 Adversity's sweet milk — Philosophy. 
 
 13f)tU)g0pf)g. — Voltaire. 
 r PHE discovery of what is true, and the practice of that which ih 
 good, are the two most important objects of Philosophy. 
 
 2K 
 
404 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 r PHE Philosopher will draw his estimate of Human Nature, by 
 varying as much as possible his own situation, to multiply the 
 points of view under which he observes her. Uncircumscribed by 
 lines of latitude or of longitude, he will examine her "buttoned up 
 and laced in the forms and ceremonies of Civilization, and at her 
 ease, and unrestrained in the light and feathered Costume of the 
 Savage." He will also associate with the highest, without servility, 
 and with the lowest, without vulgarity. 
 
 ^f)tl0S0pf)g, — Epktetus. 
 TT is the peculiar quality and character of an undisciplined man, 
 and a Man of the World, to expect no advantage, and to appre- 
 hend no mischief from himself, but all from objects without him. 
 Whereas the Philosopher, quite contrary, looks only inward, and 
 apprehends no good or evil can happen to him, but from himself 
 alone. 
 
 3P{)tlClSOpf)2* — Seneca. 
 "PHILOSOPHY is the art and law of Life, and it teaches us what 
 to do in all cases, and, like good Marksmen, to hit the white at 
 any distance. 
 
 3Pf)tlO0Opf)l).— Cowley. 
 'TO be a Husbandman, is but a retreat from the city ; to be a 
 Philosopher, from the world, as it is Man's; into the world, as 
 it is God's. 
 
 ^jUlOSOpfjp. — Seneca. 
 "PHILOSOPHY does not regard pedigree : she did not receive 
 Plato as a noble, but she made him so. 
 
 3P{)tlCl80pf)J). — Selden. 
 T^HEN men comfort themselves with Philosophy, 'tis not because 
 they have got two or three sentences, but because they have 
 digested those sentences, and made them their own : so upon the 
 matter, Philosophy is nothing but Discretion. 
 
 $f)tlO0Opfjg* — Shaftesbury. 
 T'O philosophize in a just signification, is but to carry Good Breed- 
 ing a step higher. For the accomplishment of breeding is, to 
 learn what is decent in company, or beautiful in arts; and the sum 
 of Philosophy is, to learn what is just in society, and beautiful in 
 Nature and the order of the world. 
 
 ^JjtlOSOplvj). _ Tillotson. 
 T3HIL0S0PHY hath given us several plausible rules for attain- 
 ing Peace and Tranquillity of Mind, but they fall very much 
 short of bringing men to it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 405 
 
 ^fjtlOSOpfjJ), — La Rochefoucauld. 
 PHILOSOPHY triumphs easily over past, and over future Evils, 
 but present Evils triumph over Philosophy. 
 
 |Jf)tl(l0OpJB*— Thomson. 
 
 Philosophy consists not 
 In airy schemes, or idle speculations ; 
 The rule and conduct of all social life 
 Is her great Province. Not in lonely cells 
 Obscure she lurks, but holds her heavenly light 
 To Senates and to Kings, to guide their councils, 
 And teach them to reform and bless mankind. 
 
 ^f)tl0S0pf);P-— Pope. 
 TN lazy Apathy let Stoics boast 
 
 Their Virtue fiVd ; 'tis fix'd as in a frost ; 
 Contracted all, retiring to the breast ; 
 But strength of mind is exercise, not rest : 
 The rising Tempest puts in act the soul; 
 Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole 
 
 ^f)tlO0O|)5t).— Moore. 
 OUCH was the rigid Zeno's plan 
 To form his philosophic man ; 
 Such were the modes he taught mankind 
 To weed the Garden of the mind : 
 They tore away some Weeds, 'tis true, 
 But all the Flowers were ravish'd too. 
 
 ^f)tl0S0pfj|). — ShaJcspeare. 
 A man, whose blood 
 Is very Snow-broth j one who never feels 
 The wanton stings and motions of the sense ; 
 But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge 
 With profits of the mind, Study and Fast. 
 
 ^MjtlOSOpf)]). — Moore. 
 'J'HEN far be all the Wisdom hence, 
 
 And all the lore, whose tame control 
 Would wither joy with chill delays ! 
 Alas ! the fertile fount of sense, 
 
 At which the young, the panting Soul 
 Drinks Life and Love, too soon decays ! 
 
 ^fjtlOSOpf)^. — Goldsmith. 
 HTHIS same Philosophy is a good Horse in a stable, but an arrant 
 Jade on a joun; 
 
406 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 $3 f)tl0S0pj)g- — Shaftesbury. 
 ''TIS not wit merely, but a temper, which must form the well- 
 bred man. In the same manner 'tis not a Head merely, but a 
 Heart and Resolution, which complete the real Philosopher. 
 
 %$ fjgmogmimg. — Shdkspeare. 
 The devil damn thee black, thou Cream-faced Loon ! 
 Where got'st thou that Groose Look ? 
 OTptngttnmg. —Addison. 
 \\THEN" I see a man with a sour, rivell'd face, I cannot forbear 
 pitying his Wife : and when I meet with an open, ingenuous 
 countenance, think on the happiness of his Friends, his Family, 
 and Relations. 
 
 IPSgmognomjp.— virgii. 
 
 Trust not too much to an enchanting face. 
 
 33f)gStC — Bacon. 
 "PHYSIC is of little use to a temperate person, for a man's own 
 observation on what he finds does him good, and what hurts 
 him, is the best physic to preserve Health. 
 
 ^j)ggtC — Addison. 
 "DHYSIC, for the mo^t part, is nothing else but the substitute of 
 Exercise or Temperance. 
 
 pictures. — Horace. 
 A Picture is a Poem without words. 
 
 ISbeq) one in f)ts $lace. — Greviiie. 
 
 'THE neglecting to put yourself above those that ought to be Infe- 
 rior to you, will often be as disgustful to those very people, as 
 the not putting yourself under those who ought to be Superior to 
 you, will be disgustful to them. 
 
 plagiarism. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 Plagiarists are always suspicious of being stolen from. 
 
 $i*afotng.— - Percioal. 
 
 THERE is too much reason to apprehend, that the custom of 
 pleading for any Client, without discrimination of right or 
 wrong, must lessen the regard due to those important distinctions, 
 and deaden the Moral Sensibility of the Heart. 
 
 pleasure. — Shakspeare. 
 Flowers are like the Pleasures of the world. 
 
 ^leaSUte. — Seneca. 
 T ET not the enjoyment of Pleasures now within your grasp, be 
 carried to such Excess, as to incapacitate you from future re- 
 petition. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW A} D OLD. 407 
 
 pleasure — Moore. 
 PLEASURE'S the only noble end 
 
 To which all Human powers should tend; 
 And Virtue gives her heavenly lore, 
 But to make Pleasure please us more ! 
 Wisdom and she were both design'd 
 To make the senses more refined, 
 That man might revel free from cloying, 
 Then most a sage, when most enjoying! 
 
 ^leaSUte, — Byron. 
 Though sages may pour out their Wisdom's treasure, 
 There is no sterner Moralist than Pleasure. 
 
 pleasure. — Moore. 
 Sages ! think on joy like this, 
 And where's your boast of Apathy. 
 
 pleasure. — Shakspeare. 
 Why, all Delights are vain ; but that most vain, 
 Which, with Pain purchased, doth inherit Pain. 
 
 pleasure, — Spenser. 
 TTIS sports were fair, his Joyance innocent, 
 
 Sweet without soure, and Honey without gall; 
 And he himself seem'd made for Merriment, 
 Merrily masking both in Bower and Hall. 
 
 pleasure. —Fuller. 
 Choose such Pleasures as recreate much, and cost little. 
 
 _ T$Ua$VlXt.— Shakspeare. 
 Who riseth from a feast, 
 With that keen Appetite that he sits down ? 
 Where is the Horse that doth untread again 
 His tedious measures with the unbated fire 
 That he did pace them first ? All things that are, 
 Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. 
 How like a younker, or a Prodigal, 
 The scarf'd bark puts from her native bay, 
 Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet Wind ! 
 How like the Prodigal doth she return, 
 With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, 
 Lean, rent, and beggar'd. 
 
 WUamxe. — Pope. 
 
 Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood, 
 Our greatest Evil, or our greatest Good. 
 2k2 
 
408 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^ieaSUte. — Shakspeare, 
 TF all the year were playing Holidays, 
 
 To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 
 But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come, 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare Accidents. 
 
 pleasure.— Coiton. 
 
 T^HE seeds of Repentance are sown in youth by Pleasure, but 
 the Harvest is reaped in age by Pain. 
 
 pleasure. — Coiton. 
 
 Pain may be said to follow Pleasure as its shadow. 
 
 WeaSXlte. — Chesterfield. 
 T>LEASURE is a necessary Reciprocal : no one feels, who does 
 not at the same time give it. To be pleased, one must please. 
 What pleases you in others, will in general please them in you. 
 
 pleasure. — Goldsmith. 
 
 XTONE has more frequent conversations with disagreeable self 
 than the man of Pleasure ; his Enthusiasms are but few and 
 transient; his Appetites, like angry creditors, continually making 
 fruitless demands for what he is unable to pay; and the greater 
 his former Pleasures, the more strong his regret, the more im- 
 patient his expectations. 
 
 pleasure. — Coiton. 
 
 IV/rENTAL Pleasures never cloy ) unlike those of the body, they 
 are increased by Repetition, approved of by Reflection, and 
 strengthened by Enjoyment. 
 
 Ipfjetrg, — S. T. Coleridge. 
 T>OETRY has been to me its own exceeding great reward : it 
 has given me the habit of wishing to discover the Good and 
 Beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me. 
 
 ^Oettl). —Anon, 
 QO entirely do great Poets soar beyond the reach, and almost 
 beyond the ken of their own Age, that we have only lately 
 begun to have a right understanding of Shakspeare, or of the 
 masters of the Greek drama, — to discern the principles which 
 actuated them, the purposes they had in view, the laws they ac- 
 knowledged, and the ideas they wished to impersonate. 
 
 ^rjetCg. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHE truest Poetry is the most feigning ; and Lovers are given to 
 Poetry ; and what they swear in Poetry, may be said, as lovers 
 they do feign. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 409 
 
 ^loettg* — Goldsmith. 
 
 A ND thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, 
 Still first to fly where sensual joys invade ! 
 Unfit, in these degenerate times of Shame, 
 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame, 
 Dear charming Nymph, neglected and decried, 
 My shame in crowds, my solitary Pride ; 
 Thou source of all my bliss, and all my woe, 
 That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so ; 
 Thou Guide, by which the nobler arts excel, 
 Thou nurse of every Virtue. 
 
 T$QttZ$.—Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 r pO charm the languid hours of solitude 
 He oft invites her to the Muse's lore, 
 
 For none have vainly e'er the Muse pursued, 
 And those whom she delights, regret no more 
 The social, joyous hours, while rapt they soar 
 
 To worlds unknown, and live in Fancy's dream : 
 Muse divine ! thee only I implore, 
 
 Shed on my Soul thy sweet inspiring beams, 
 
 And Pleasure's gayest scene insipid Folly seems 
 
 ^OCtH).— Jean Paul. 
 'THERE are so many tender and holy Emotions flying about in 
 our inward world, which, like angels, can never assume the 
 body of an outward act ; so many rich and lovely Flowers spring 
 up which bear no seed, that it is a happiness Poetry was invented, 
 which receives into its limbus all these incorporeal Spirits, and the 
 Perfume of all these Flowers. 
 
 ^Jrjetrg. — Sir William Temple. 
 HPHE mind of man is like the Sea, which is neither agreeable to 
 the beholder nor the voyager, in a calm or in a storm ; but is 
 so to both, when a little agitated by gentle gales; and so the Mind, 
 when moved by soft and easy Passions and Affections. I know 
 very well, that many, who pretend to be wise by the forms of being 
 grave, are apt to despise both Poetry and Music, as toys and trifles 
 too light for the use or entertainment of serious men : but whoever 
 find themselves wholly insensible to these charms, would, I think, 
 do well to keep their own Council, for fear of reproaching their own 
 temper, and bringing the goodness of their natures, if not of their 
 Understandings, into question : it may be thought at least an ill sign, 
 if not an ill constitution ; since some of the Fathers went so far as 
 to esteem the love of music a sign of predestination ; as a thing 
 divine, and reserved for the felicities of Heaven itself. 
 
ilO ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 30ttt$.—Pope. 
 CAGES and chiefs long since had birth, 
 
 Ere Csesar was, or Newton named ; 
 These raised new empires o'er the earth ; 
 
 And those, new Heavens and systems framed : 
 Vain was the chiefs', the sages' pride ! 
 They had no Poet, and they died. 
 In vain they schemed, in vain they bled ! 
 They had no Poet, and are dead. 
 
 Cf)e $0et— Spenser. 
 TTEAPS of huge words uphoorded hideousiy, 
 
 With horrid sound, though having little sense, 
 They think to be chief praise of Poetry, 
 
 And thereby wanting due intelligence, 
 Have marr'd the face of goodly Poesie, 
 And made a Monster of their fautasie. 
 
 Cf)e $0et. — Catullus. 
 gUFFENUS has no more wit than a mere Clown when he attempts 
 to write verses ; and yet he is never happier than when he is 
 scribbling, so much does he admire himself and his Compositions ; 
 and, indeed, this is the foible of every one of us ; for there is no 
 man living who is not a Sufifenus in one thing or other. 
 
 QLtytytot — Swift. 
 
 THEN, rising with Aurora's light, 
 
 The Muse invoked, sit down to write ; 
 Blot out, correct, insert, refine, 
 Enlarge, diminish, interline ; 
 Be mindful, when Invention fails, 
 To scratch you head, and bite your nails. 
 
 Cf)e ^Ott — Sir W. Temple. 
 1V"0NE ever was a great Poet that applied himself much to any 
 thing else. 
 
 ^OliCjD. — Greville. 
 
 T HAVE heard some of the first judges of Whist say, that it was! 
 
 not those who played best by the true laws of the game that 
 
 would win most, but those who played best to the false play of 
 
 others ; and I am sure it is true of the great Game of the World 
 
 ^PultCJL — Shakspeare. 
 Such is the infection of the time, 
 That, for the Health and Physic of our Right 
 We cannot deal but with the very hand 
 Of stern Injustice and confused Wrong. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 411 
 
 politeness. — Greviiu. 
 
 A S Charity covers a multitude of sins before God, so does Polite- 
 ness before men. 
 
 politeness. — Coitm. 
 
 'THAT Politeness which we put on, in order to keep the assuming 
 and the presumptuous at a prober distance, will generally suc- 
 ceed. But it sometimes happens, that these obtrusive characters 
 are on such excellent terms with themselves, that they put down 
 this very Politeness to the score of their own great Merits and high 
 pretensions, meeting the coldness of our Reserve with a ridiculous 
 condescension of Familiarity, in order to set us at ease with our- 
 selves. 
 
 IPoliteneSS. — Shaftesbury. 
 A LL Politeness is owing to Liberty. We polish one another, 
 and rub off our corners and rough sides by a sort of amicable 
 collision. To restrain this is inevitably to bring a rust upon men's 
 Understandings. 
 
 PoliteneSS. — Cumberland. 
 "DOLTTENESS is nothing more than an elegant and concealed 
 species of Flattery, tending to put the person to whom it is 
 addressed in Good-humour and Respect with himself: but if there 
 is a parade and display affected in the exertion of it, if a man seems 
 to say — Look how condescending and gracious I am ! — whilst he 
 has only the common offices of civility to perform, such Politeness 
 seems founded in mistake, and this mistake I have observed fre- 
 quently to occur in French manners. 
 
 %30liteneSS. — Monro. 
 'T'O the acquisition of the rare quality of Politeness, so much of 
 the enlightened Understanding is necessary that I cannot but 
 consider every Book in every science, which tends to make us wiser, 
 and of course better men, as a treatise on a more enlarged system 
 of Politeness, not excluding the Experiments of Archimedes, or the 
 Elements of Euclid. 
 
 STfje populace.— Shakspeare. 
 r FHERE have been many Great Men that have flattered the Peo- 
 ple, who never loved them ; and there be many that they have 
 loved, they know not wherefore : so that, if they love they know 
 not why, they hate upon no better ground. 
 
 Cl)e ^Opulaee. — Shakspeare. 
 YOU common cry of Curs ! whose breath I hate 
 As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize 
 As the dead Carcasses of unburied men 
 Tha f do corrupt the Air. 
 
412 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cije populace. — Cowper. 
 
 COME shout him, and some hang upon his car 
 
 To gaze in 's eyes and bless him. Maidens wave 
 Their 'kerchiefs, and old Women weep for joy. 
 While others not so satisfied unhorse 
 The gilded Equipage, and turning loose 
 His Steeds, usurp a place they well deserve. 
 
 Cf)e populace. — Coiton. 
 
 f rHE Mob is a monster with the hands of Briareus, but the head 
 of Polyphemus — strong to execute, but blind to perceive. 
 
 Cj)e ^WUlatt. — Shakspeare. 
 T?OR the mutable, rank-scented Many, let them 
 
 Regard me as I do not flatter, and 
 Therein behold themselves : I say again 
 In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our Senate 
 The cockle of Rebellion, insolence, sedition, 
 Which we ourselves have ploughed for, sow'd and scatter'd, 
 By mingling them with us, the honour' d number; 
 Who lack not Virtue, no, nor power, but that 
 Which they have given to Beggars. 
 
 &f)e populace.— Milton. 
 
 What is the People but a Herd confused, 
 A miscellaneous Rabble, who extol 
 
 Things vulgar, and well weigh'd, scarce worth the praise ? 
 They praise, and they admire they know not what, 
 And know not whom, but as one leads the other; 
 And what delight to be by such extoll'd, 
 To live upon their Tongues, and be their talk, 
 Of whom to be dispraised were no small Praise ? 
 
 Ct)e populace. — Shakspeare. 
 I will not choose what many men desire, 
 Because I will not jump with common spirits, 
 And rank me with the barbarous Multitude. 
 
 Cf)e populace, — Shakspeare. 
 
 Our slippery People, 
 Whose love is never link'd to the Deserver, 
 Till his deserts are passed. 
 
 W§z ^cpulace, — Coitm. 
 
 TT is an easy and a vulgar thing to please the Mob, and not a 
 very arduous task to astonish them ; but essentially to benefit 
 and to improve them, is a work fraught with Difficulty, and 
 teeming with Danger. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 413 
 
 Cfje populate.— Shakspeare, 
 
 The fool Multitude, that choose by show, 
 Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; 
 Which pries not to th' interior, but, like the Martlet, 
 Builds in the Weather on the outward wall, 
 Even in the force and road of Casualty. 
 
 Cf)e populace. — Cowper. 
 
 C\ POPULAR Applause ! what heart of man 
 
 Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms ? 
 The wisest and the best feel urgent need 
 Of all their Caution in thy gentlest gales ; 
 But swell'd into a gust — who then, alas ! 
 With all his Canvas set, and inexpert 
 And therefore heedless, can withstand thy Power? 
 
 Cf)e populace.— Bryden. 
 'THE Rabble gather round the Man of News, 
 
 And listen with their mouths wide open; some 
 Tell, some hear, some judge of News, some make it, 
 And he that lies most loud, is most believed. 
 
 Cje populace. — Cicero. 
 They condemn what they do not understand. 
 
 Cf)e populace. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHEY'LL sit by th' fire, and presume to know 
 
 What's done i' the Capitol : who's like to rise, 
 Who thrives, and who declines : side Factions, and give out 
 Conjectural Marriages; making parties strong, 
 And feebling such as stand not in their liking, 
 Below their cobbled shoes. 
 
 Cf)e populate. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Your affections are 
 A sick man's appetite, who desires most that 
 Which would increase his Evil. He that depends 
 Upon your favours, swims with fins of Lead, 
 And hews down Oaks with Rushes. Hang ye ! Trust ye ? 
 With every minute you do change a mind; 
 And call him noble, that was now your hate — 
 Him vile, that was your Garland. 
 
 W§Z populate. — Shakspeare. 
 You have many Enemies, that know not 
 Why they are so, but, like to village Curs, 
 Bark when their fellows do. 
 
414 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cije populace. — Shakspeare. 
 
 What would you have, you Curs, 
 That like nor Peace, nor War ? the one affrights you, 
 The other makes you proud. He that trusts you, 
 Where he should find you Lions, finds you Hares ; 
 Where Foxes, G-eese : you are no surer, no, 
 Than is the coal of fire upon the Ice, 
 Or hailstone in the Sun. 
 
 Cf)e populace* — Shakspeare. 
 T 00 K, as I blow this Feather from my face, 
 
 And as the air blows it to me again, 
 Obeying with my Wind when I do blow, 
 And yielding to another when it blows, 
 Commanded always by the greater Gust ; 
 Such is the likeness of you Common Men. 
 
 ^OpUlarttg. — Shakspeare. 
 A N habitation giddy and unsure 
 
 Hath he that buildeth on the Vulgar Heart. 
 Oh thou fond Many ! with what loud applause 
 Did'st thou beat Heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, 
 Before he was what thou would' st have him be ! 
 And now, being trimm'd up in thine own desires, 
 Thou, beastly Feeder, art so full of him, 
 That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. 
 
 ^OpuiaUtg. — Spenser. 
 AND after all the Raskall Many ran, 
 
 Heap'd. together in rude Rablement, 
 To see the face of that victorious man, 
 . Whom all admired as from Heaven sent, 
 And gazed upon with gaping Wonderment. 
 
 3|opularitg. — Scott. 
 r FHEIR'S was the glee of martial breast, 
 
 And laughter their' s at little jest; 
 And oft Lord Marmion deign'd to aid, 
 And mingle in the mirth they made : 
 For though, with men of High degree, 
 The proudest of the Proud was he, 
 Yet, train' d in camps, he knew the art 
 To win the Soldier's hardy Heart. 
 
 ^OS0ej30tOtt. — Young. 
 "POSSESSION, why, more tasteless than pursuit ? 
 
 Why is a wish far dearer than a Crown ? 
 That wish accomplish'd, why, the grave of Bliss? 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 415 
 
 Because, in the great future buried deep, 
 Beyond our plans of Empire and Renown, 
 Lies all that man with ardour should pursue ; 
 And He who made him, bent him to the right. 
 
 $O00eSStOtt. — Shakspeare. 
 It so falls out, 
 That what we have we prize not to the worth, 
 Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost, 
 Why, then we rack the Value ; then we find 
 The Virtue, that Possession would not show us 
 Whiles it was ours. 
 
 3|OJ3teritg. — CoUon. 
 V\TITH respect to the authority of great names, it should be re- 
 membered, that he alone deserves to have any weight or in- 
 fluence with Posterity, who has shown himself superior to the par- 
 ticular and predominant Error of his own times. 
 
 ^pObertg. — St. Eoremond. 
 AV^HEN it is not despicable to be poor, we want fewer things to 
 live in Poverty with satisfaction, than to live magnificently 
 xith Riches 
 
 ^Obertg.— Drydm. 
 
 TITANT is a bitter and a hateful good, 
 
 Because its Virtues are not understood; 
 Yet many things, impossible to thought, 
 Have been by need to full perfection brought. 
 The daring of the Soul proceeds from thence, 
 Sharpness of Wit, and active Diligence ; 
 Prudence at once, and Fortitude it gives; 
 And, if in patience taken, mends our lives. 
 
 Itobtttg,— Juvenal. 
 
 Rarely they rise by Virtue's aid, who lie 
 Plunged in the depth of helpless Poverty. 
 
 ^Obcrtg. — Turkish Spy. 
 pOVERTY eclipses the brightest Virtues, and is the very Sepul- 
 chre of brave designs, depriving a man of the means to accom- 
 plish what Nature has fitted him for, and stifling the noblest thoughts 
 in their embryo. Many illustrious Souls may be said to have been 
 dead among the living, or buried alive in the obscurity of their 
 condition, whose perfections have rendered them the darlings of 
 Providence, and companions of angels. 
 
 2L 
 
416 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^pObertg atttf HtCf)eS, — SJmkspeare. 
 
 Twinn'd brothers of one womb, — 
 Whose procreation, residence, and birth, 
 Scarce is dividant, — touch them with several Fortunes; 
 The greater scorns the lesser : Not Nature, 
 To whom all lay siege, can bear great fortune, 
 But by contempt of Nature. 
 Raise me this Beggar, and denude that Lord; 
 The Senator shall bear contempt hereditary; 
 The Beggar native honour. 
 It is the pasture lards the browser's sides, 
 The want that makes him lean. 
 
 ^obertg ants 2Mtssfccm\— Dekker. 
 
 A wise man poor, 
 Is like a Sacred Book that's never read ; 
 To himself he lives, and to all else seems dead. 
 
 $otoer.— Coiton. 
 
 T>OWER will intoxicate the best hearts, as Wine the strongest 
 heads. No man is wise enough, nor good enough to be trusted 
 with unlimited Power; for, whatever qualifications he may have 
 evinced to entitle him to the possession of so dangerous a privilege, 
 yet, when possessed, others can no longer answer for him, because 
 he can no longer answer for himself. 
 
 ^Otoet. — Coiton. 
 T ORD BACON has compared those who move in higher spheres 
 to those heavenly bodies in the Firmament, which have much 
 admiration, but little rest. And it is not necessary to invest a wise 
 man with Power, to convince him that it is a garment bedizened 
 with gold, which dazzles the beholder by its Splendour, but op- 
 presses the wearer by its Weight. 
 
 dormant ^otoer, — Swift. 
 
 A LTHOUGrH men are accused for not knowing their own Weak- 
 ness, yet perhaps as few know their own Strength. It is in 
 men as in soils, where sometimes there is a vein of Gold, which the 
 owner knows not of. 
 
 ^Potoer ant* %ibztty. — Saviiie. 
 
 "DOWER and Liberty are like Heat and Moisture; where they 
 are well mixt, every thing prospers; where they are single, 
 they are destructive. 
 
 ^atSe. — Fuller. 
 THOU may'st be more prodigal of Praise when thou writest a 
 letter than when thou speakest in presence. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 417 
 
 ftafee Young. 
 
 'THE love of Praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, 
 
 Reigns, more or less, and glows in every Heart : 
 The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure. 
 The modest shun it but to make it sure. 
 
 ^ratSe,— Spenser. 
 (^)R who would ever care to do brave deed, 
 
 Or strive in Virtue others to excel, 
 If none should yield him his deserved meed, 
 
 Due Praise, that is the spur of doing well ? 
 For if Good were not praised more than ill, 
 None would chuse Goodness of his own free will. 
 
 ^Catge. — Steele. 
 
 A LLOW no man to be so free with you as to praise you to your 
 
 Face. Your Vanity by this means will want its food. At 
 
 the same time your passion for esteem will be more fully gratified; 
 
 men will praise you in their actions : where you now receive one 
 
 Compliment, you will then receive twenty Civilities. 
 
 tytaiSt. — Fuller. 
 T>RAISE not people to their faces, to the end that they may pay 
 thee in the same Coin. This is so thin a Cobweb, that it may 
 with little difficulty be seen through ; 'tis rarely strong enough to 
 catch flies of any considerable magnitude. 
 
 tywiXt.—From the Latin. 
 TT is the greatest possible Praise to be praised by a man who is 
 himself deserving of Praise. 
 
 $) C a t g Z . — Shakspeare. 
 THE worthiness of Praise distains his worth, 
 
 If that the praised himself bring the Praise forth : 
 But what the repining enemy commends, 
 That breath Fame follows; that Praise, sole pure, transcends. 
 
 praise.— Greviiu. 
 
 r rHOSE men who are commended by everybody, must be very 
 extraordinary men ; or, which is more probable, very inconsider- 
 able men. 
 
 ^tapeC— H. More. 
 T^OUNTAIN' of Mercy ! whose pervading eye 
 Can look within and read what passes there, 
 Accept my thoughts for thanks : I have no words. 
 My soul, o'erfraught with Gratitude, rejects 
 The aid of Language — Lord ! behold my Heart. 
 
418 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^rapCC — Fuller. 
 T EAVE not off praying to God : for either praying will make 
 thee leave off sinning ; or continuing in Sin will make thee 
 desist from praying. 
 
 l3^3J)0t. — Archibald Alexander. 
 TT is as natural and reasonable for a dependent creature to apply 
 to its Creator for what it needs, as for a child thus to solicit the 
 aid of a parent who is believed to have the disposition and ability to 
 bestow what it needs. 
 
 Stager. — Thomson. 
 RATHER of Light and Life ! thou Good Supreme ! 
 
 Oh teach me what is good ! teach me thyself ! 
 Save me from Folly, Vanity, and Vice, 
 From every low pursuit ! and feed my Soul 
 With Knowledge, conscious Peace, and Virtue pure; 
 Sacred, substantial, never-fading Bliss ! 
 
 Stager Shakspeare. 
 
 "POR holy offices I have a time ; a time 
 
 To think upon the part of business, which 
 I bear i' the State ; and Nature does require 
 Her times of preservation, which perforce, 
 I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, 
 Must give my tendance to. 
 
 Ipraget* — Shakspeare. 
 T END me a Heart replete with thankfulness ! 
 
 For thou hast given me in this beauteous face, 
 A world of earthly blessings to my Soul, 
 If sympathy of Love unite our thoughts. 
 
 Stager. — Shakspeare. 
 Q ENGLAND ! — model to thy inward greatness, 
 
 Like little body with a mighty Heart, — 
 What might'st thou do, that Honour would thee do 
 Were all thy children kind and natural ! 
 
 IJJrmpt. — Shakspeare. 
 "T)0 not, as some ungracious Pastors do, 
 
 Show me the steep and thorny way to Heaven ; 
 Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, 
 Himself the primrose path of Dalliance treads, 
 And recks not his own read. 
 
 ^tecept.— Anon. 
 QNE of the saddest things about Human Nature is, that a man 
 may guide others in the path of Life, without walking in it 
 himself; that he may he a Pilot, aud yet a castaway. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 419 
 
 TgHttt$t. — CoUan, 
 
 TT was observed of the Jesuits, that they constantly inculcated a 
 thorough contempt of worldly things in their Doctrines, but 
 eagerly grasped at thein in their Lives. They were " wise in their 
 generation/' for they cried down Worldly things, because they 
 wanted to obtain them, and cried up Spiritual things, because they 
 wanted to dispose of them. 
 
 precept aria ISxample.— Johnson. 
 
 "WDTHINGr is more unjust, however common, than to charge 
 with Hypocrisy him that expresses zeal for those Virtues 
 which he neglects to practise ; since he may be sincerely convinced 
 of the advantages of conquering his Passions, without having yet 
 obtained the Victory ; as a man may be confident of the advantages 
 of a voyage or a journey, without having Courage or Industry to 
 undertake it, and may honestly recommend to others those at- 
 tempts which he neglects himself. 
 
 precept anti ISiampie.— Shakspeare. 
 
 TF to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, Chapels 
 had been Churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. 
 It is a good Divine that follows his own instructions; I can easier 
 teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty 
 to follow mine own teaching. 
 
 Cf)e precipice. — Shakspeare. 
 r FHE very place puts toys of Desperation, 
 Without more motive, into every brain, 
 That looks so many fathoms to the Sea, 
 And hears it roar beneath. 
 
 \ymivitaiK1).— Shakspeare. 
 TTEAT not a Furnace for your foe so hot, 
 
 That it do singe yourself. We may out-run 
 By violent swiftness, that which we run at ; 
 And lose by over-running: know you not, 
 The Fire that mounts the Liquor 'till't run o'er, 
 Seeming t' augment it, wastes it ? 
 
 WujUllice.— Grevillc. 
 COME Prejudices are to the mind what the Atmosphere is to the 
 body; we cannot feel without the one, nor breathe without the 
 other. 
 
 ^tejllulCe.— Greville. 
 "REMOVING Prejudices, is, alas ! too often removing the 
 boundary of a delightful near prospect, in order to let in a 
 shocking extensive one. 
 
 2l2 
 
4110 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^tCJUtltCe. — Tucker. 
 'THERE are habits of Misapprehension and misjudging, common 
 among all degrees of men ; Fretfulness, industrious to seek or 
 even feign and chew upon matter that may nourish it; Captious- 
 ness, ingenious in perverting the meaning of words; Partiality, 
 warping every thing to its own purpose ; Censoriousness, unable 
 to discern a bright part in characters ; Self-conceit, averse to 
 discern the real motives of acting; Melancholy, augurating always 
 for the worst ; besides many more, some of which I am afraid 
 every man may find lurking in his own breast, if he will but look 
 narrowly enough. 
 
 ^rejUfctCe. — Terence. 
 TUMAN nature is so constituted, that all see, and judge better, 
 in the Affairs of other men, than in their own. 
 
 ^IrejUtUCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T\/"E seldom find persons whom we acknowledge to be possessed 
 of Good Sense, except those who agree with us in opinion. 
 
 $tefttfctCe.— -GremOe. 
 
 r rO divest one's self of some Prejudices, would be like taking off 
 the skin to feel the better. 
 
 Cf)e present.— Horace. 
 A BRIDGE your Hopes in proportion to the shortness of the 
 span of Human Life; for while we converse, the hours, as if 
 envious of our Pleasure, fly away : enjoy therefore the present 
 time, and trust not too much to what to-morrow may produce. 
 
 Cije ^regent —Horace. 
 TN the midst of Hopes and Cares, of Apprehensions and of Dis- 
 quietude, regard every day that dawns upon you as if it was to 
 be your last; and superadded hours, to the enjoyment of which 
 you had not looked forward, will prove an acceptable boon. 
 
 W$z present— Fuller. 
 
 r FRY to be happy in this very present Moment ; and put not off 
 being so to a Time to come : as though that Time should be 
 of another make from this, which is already come, and is ours. 
 
 3It)c present. — Coiton. 
 
 "YTEN spend their lives in Anticipations, in determining to be 
 vastly happy at some period or other, when they have time. 
 But the present time has one advantage over every other — it is our 
 own. Past opportunities are gone, future are not come. We may 
 lay in a stock of Pleasures, as we would lay in a stock of Wine ; 
 but if we defer the tasting of them too long, we shall find that both 
 are soured by age. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 421 
 
 Clje present.— Armstrong. 
 T\7"HAT avails it that indulgent Heaven 
 
 From mortal Eyes has wrapt the woes to come, 
 If we, ingenious to torment ourselves, 
 Grow pale at hideous Fictions of our own ? 
 Enjoy the Present; nor with needless cares 
 Of what may spring from blind Misfortune's womb, 
 Appal the surest hour that life bestows. 
 Serene, and master of yourself, prepare 
 For what may come ; and leave the rest to Heaven. 
 
 Wi)z present anti \%t Internal. — Coiton. 
 
 TF indeed that marvellous microcosm, Man, with all the costly cargo 
 of his faculties and powers, were indeed a rich Argosy, fitted 
 out and freighted only for Shipwreck and Destruction, who amongst 
 us that tolerate the Present only from the Hope of the Future, who 
 that have any aspirings of a high and intellectual Nature about 
 them, could be brought to submit to the disgusting Mortifications 
 of the voyage ? As to the common and the sensual herd, who 
 would be glad, perhaps, under any terms, to sweat and groan be- 
 neath the load of Life, they would find that the creed of the Mate- 
 rialist would only give a fuller swing to the suicidal energies of a 
 Selfism as unprincipled as unrelenting; a Selfism that would not 
 only make that giftless Gift of Life a boon the most difficult to pre- 
 serve, but would at the same time render it wholly unworthy of the 
 task and the trouble of its preservation. Knowledge herself, that 
 fairest daughter of Heaven, would be immediately transformed into 
 a changeling of Hell; the brightest Reason would be the blackest 
 Curse, and Weakness more salutary than Strength ; for the Villany 
 of man would increase with the Depravity of his will, and the de- 
 pravity of his 'will with every augmentation of his Power. The 
 force of Intellect imparted to that which was corrupt, would be like 
 the destructive energies communicated by an Earthquake to that 
 which is inert; where even things inanimate, as rocks and moun- 
 tains, seem endowed with a momentary impulse of motion and Life, 
 only to overwhelm, to destroy, and to be destroyed. 
 
 jBatvtng presents. — Fuller. 
 
 \"\THEN thou makest Presents, let them be of such things as will 
 last long; to the end they may be in some sort immortal, and 
 may frequently refresh the Memory of the Receiver. 
 
 Cfje WxtteriHtt.—Shakspeare. 
 
 This is some fellow, 
 Who, having been praised for Bluntness, doth affect 
 A saucy Roughness; and constrains the garb, 
 
422 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Quite from his Nature : He cannot flatter, he ! — 
 
 An honest nrind and plain, — he must speak Truth : 
 
 An they will take it, so; if not, he's plain. 
 
 These kind of Knaves I know, which in this plainness 
 
 Harbour more craft and more corrupter ends, 
 
 Than twenty silly ducking Observants, 
 
 That stretch their duties nicely. 
 
 pretension. — Lavater. 
 TTE who gives himself airs of Importance, exhibits the credentials 
 of Impotence. 
 
 WXZtZV&iQn.— Johnson. 
 
 TT is the care of a very great part of Mankind to conceal their in- 
 digence from the rest. They support themselves by temporary 
 Expedients, and every day is lost in contriving for to-morrow. 
 
 ^tetenStOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 The desire of appearing Clever often prevents our becoming so. 
 
 pretension. — Cicero. 
 
 'TRUE Glory strikes root, and even extends itself; all false Pre- 
 tensions fall as do Flowers, nor can any thing feigned be lasting 
 
 pretension. —Plutarch. 
 TT is no Disgrace not to be able to do every thing ; but to under- 
 take, or pretend to do, what you are not made for, is not only 
 Shameful, but extremely Troublesome and Vexatious. 
 
 pretension.— Lavater. 
 T^THERE there is much Pretension, much has been borrowed : 
 Nature never pretends. 
 
 ^titLt.—Anon, 
 
 'TO no kind of begging are people so averse, as to begging Par- 
 don ; that is, when there is any serious ground for doing so. 
 When there is none, this phrase is as soon taken in vain, as other 
 momentous words are upon light Occasions. 
 
 ^ritje. — Shakspeare. 
 TTE that is proud, eats up himself: Pride is his own Glass, his 
 own Trumpet, his own Chronicle ; and whatever praises itself 
 but in the deed, devours the deed in the Praise. 
 
 ^ritie. — Clarendon. 
 Y\TITHOUT the sovereign influence of God's extraordinary and 
 immediate Grace, men do very rarely put off all the trappings 
 nf their Pride, till they who are about them put on their winding- 
 sheet. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 423 
 
 $tfte* — QotUm. 
 
 T3RIDE is a paradoxical Proteus, eternally diverse yet ever the 
 same ; for Plato adopted a most magnificent mode of displaying 
 bis Contempt for Magnificence, while Neglect would have restored 
 Diogenes to common sense and clean linen, since he would have 
 had no Tub, from the moment he had no Spectators. "Thus I 
 trample/' said Diogenes, " on the pride of Plato." "But," rejoined 
 Plato, " with greater pride, Diogenes." 
 
 Wxitlt. — Grevffle. 
 
 A PROUD man never shows his Pride so much as when he is 
 civil. 
 
 ^Jritie. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Pride hath no other Glass 
 To show itself, but Pride ; for supple knees 
 Feed Arrogance, and are the Proud Man's fees. 
 
 Vxilit. — Skenstone. 
 AT EN are sometimes accused of Pride merely because their ac- 
 cusers would be proud themselves if they were iu their places. 
 
 }3tttie. — Cotton. 
 ■THERE is this paradox in Pride, — it makes some men ridiculous, 
 but prevents others from becoming so. 
 
 V^C — Selden. 
 T>RIDE may be allowed to this or that degree, else a man cannot 
 keep up his Dignity. In Gluttony there must be eating, in 
 Drunkeuness there must be drinking; 'tis not the eating, nor 'tis 
 not the drinking that must be blamed, but the Excess. So in 
 Pride. 
 
 Wtitlt. — Greville. 
 
 T>RIDE is a Virtue — let not the moralist be scandalized — Pride 
 is also a Vice. Pride, like Ambition, is sometimes virtuous 
 and sometimes vicious, according to the character in which it is 
 found, and the object to which it is directed. As a Principle, it is 
 the Parent of almost every Virtue, and every Vice, — every thing 
 that pleases and displeases in mankind ; and as the effects are so 
 very different, nothing is more easy than to discover, even to our- 
 selves, whether the Pride that produces them is virtuous or vicious : 
 the first object of virtuous Pride is Rectitude, and the next Inde- 
 pendence. 
 
 VUHC — Cotton. 
 Pride requires very costly food— its keeper's Happiness. 
 
1-24 ILL US TRA TIONS OF TR UTII; 
 
 XHlbt.— Colton. 
 T'O quell the Pride, even of the greatest, we should reflect how 
 much we owe to others, and how little to ourselves. Philip 
 having made himself master of Potidoea, received three Messengers 
 in one day : the first brought him an account of a great Victory, 
 gained over the Illyrians, by his General Parmenio ; the second 
 told him, that he was proclaimed Victor at the Olympic games ; 
 and the third informed him of the birth of Alexander. But there 
 was nothing in all these events that ought to have fed the Vanity, 
 or that would have justified the Pride, of Philip, since, as an ele- 
 gant writer remarks, " for the first he was indebted to his General; 
 for the second, to his Horse ; and his Wife is shrewdly suspected 
 of having helped him to the third." 
 
 $H*ttlC. — Shakspeare. 
 T WILL from henceforth rather be myself, 
 
 Mighty, and to be fear'd, than my condition*, 
 Which hath been smooth as Oil, soft as young Down, 
 And therefore lost that title of Respect, 
 Which the proud Soul ne'er pays, but to the Proud. 
 
 ^rocrastmatton.— Young. 
 
 Be wise to-day • 'tis Madness to defer ; 
 Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; 
 Thus on, till Wisdom is push'd out of Life. 
 
 ^roctastmatton. — miotson. 
 
 HTO be always intending to live a new Life, but never to find time 
 to set about it : this is as if a man should put off" Eating, and 
 Drinking, and Sleeping, from one day and night to another, till he 
 is starved and destroyed. 
 
 ^Jnicrastmatum. — Persms. 
 
 Corn. Unhappy he, who does his work adjourn, 
 And to To-morrow would the Search delay : 
 His lazy morrow will be like to-day. 
 
 Pers. But is one day of Ease too much to borrow? 
 
 Corn. Yes, sure; for Yesterday was once To-morrow. 
 That Yesterday is gone, and nothing gain'd; 
 And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain'd : 
 For thou hast more To-morrows yet to ask, 
 And wilt be ever to begin thy Task ; 
 Who, like the hindmost Chariot Wheels, art curst, 
 Still to be near, but ne'er to reach, the first. 
 
 ^procrastination. —Hesiod. 
 
 It will not always be Summer. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 425 
 
 ^kOCraS'tmattcm. — Skakspeare. 
 
 That we would do, 
 We should do when we would ; for this would changes, 
 And hath abatements and Delays as many, 
 As there are Tongues, are hands, are accidents; 
 And then this should is like a spendthrift Sigh, 
 That hurts by easing. 
 
 13fOCCaStmattOn Horace. 
 
 YV"HATEVER things injure your Eye, you are anxious to re- 
 move : but things which affect your Mind you defer 
 
 ^rOtltgteS* —Shdkspeare. 
 When Beggars die, there are no Comets seen. 
 
 ^rofligacg.— Coiton. 
 
 TTE that has never suffered extreme Adversity, knows not the 
 full extent of his own Depravation; and he that has never en- 
 joyed the summit of Prosperity, is equally ignorant how far the 
 Iniquity of others can go. For our Adversity will excite tempta- 
 tions in ourselves, our Prosperity in others. Sir Robert Walpole 
 observed, it was fortunate that few men could be Prime Ministers, 
 because it was fortunate that few men could know the abandoned 
 Profligacy of the Human Mind. 
 
 prognostication. — Skakspeare. 
 T\THEN Clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks ; 
 
 When great leaves fall, then Winter is at hand ; 
 When the Sun sets, who doth not look for Night ■ 
 Untimely Storms make men expect a Dearth. 
 
 ^Progress. — Coiton. 
 
 'THE wisest Man may be wiser to-day than he was yesterday, and 
 to-morrow than he is to-day. Total freedom from Change 
 would imply total freedom from Error; but this is the Prerogative 
 of Omniscience alone. 
 
 progress. — Coiton. 
 
 AYTHO for the most part are they, that would have all Mankind 
 look backward instead of forward, and regulate their Conduct 
 by things that have been done? those who are the most ignorant 
 as to all things that are doing. Lord Bacon said, time is the 
 greatest of Innovators ; he might also have said the greatest of Im- 
 provers ; and I like Madame de Stael's observation on this subject, 
 quite as well as Lord Bacon's: it is this, "that Past which is so 
 presumptuously brought forward as a precedent for the Present, 
 was itself founded on an alteration of some Past that went before it " 
 
ILL : S - UTB; 
 
 |ta>ftt£& _ 
 
 - B no the moral and intell rid. One 
 
 is J _ ss, the other the : ss 
 
 that Pro g ress. Id be 
 
 nothii _ Has! nd durable on and the wl 
 
 If the latter had 
 • en if it obtaii 
 
 Hi ' st _ - Ft! 
 always those iu which principles are the 
 
 balanced. In :ilightened man ought to adopt 
 
 both principles into his i with one 
 
 hand develop what he can, v in and uphold what 
 
 h: . ; .'■ 
 
 \}\::.\ :■':■:. - 
 IJX the lisposition sfnpei adorn, mouldin_ 
 
 the g us incorporation of the Human Race, the 
 
 whole, at one tim e middle-*g _ : but, 
 
 in a lition of unchangea s on through the 
 
 ] tenour of pc itaon, and Progres- 
 
 \VE Might - to encourage Innovati 
 
 cases of doubtful Improve ■ I system mus: 
 
 hare two advantage - liahed and it is un- 
 
 ^3;: — Fuller. 
 
 HOU oughtest to be . nic. to S - ::>n, in keepiu. 
 
 and therefore thou shouldst be equally eautioas n 
 making th 
 
 T-T : 5: slow in making a Promise is the most faithful in 
 
 the i :::rmance of 
 
 Paraqitttitiit.— wirt. 
 
 SEIZE ed euri:? mj subject, to solve 
 
 :ur dout: pass, the desire n&aj :urn, 
 
 and you may remain in ignorance. 
 
 }3 : 1 1 — Skakspeare, 
 
 I 'HKKH is a His :a all mens 1: 
 
 F _ _ - > : : - - 1 
 
 vhich observed, a man may prop* 
 h a near aim, of the main Chance of th _- 
 Afl yet not come I ich in th 
 
 weak beginnings, lie intreasured. 
 
 THC 
 
 1 : 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 42/ 
 
 VrOSpentg. — Shakspeare. 
 Prosperity is the very bond of Love ; 
 Whose fresh complexion and whose Heart together 
 Affliction alters. 
 
 ^IrOSperitg. — Zimmerman. 
 'PAKE care to be an economist in Prosperity : there is no fear of 
 your being one in Adversity. 
 
 13t:obttJtnCe. — Shakspeare. 
 THAT high All-seer which I dallied with, 
 
 Hath turn'd my feigned Prayer on my head, 
 And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. 
 Thus doth He force the Swords of wicked men 
 To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms. 
 
 ^robttience.— Hannah More. 
 VES, Thou art ever present, Power Supreme ! 
 
 Not circumscribed by Time, nor fixt to Space, 
 Confined to altars, nor to temples bound. 
 In Wealth, in Want, in Freedom or in Chains, 
 In Dungeons or on Thrones, the faithful find thee ! 
 
 ^COuttienCe. — Thomson. 
 THIS is thy work, Almighty Providence ! 
 
 Whose Power, beyond the stretch of human thought, 
 Revolves the orbs of Empire; bids them sink 
 Deep in the dead'ning Night of thy displeasure, 
 Or rise majestic o'er a wondering world. 
 
 ^Jl'ObttJCnCe. — Shakspeare. 
 OUR Indiscretion sometimes serves us well ; 
 
 When our deep plots do pall : and that should teach us, 
 There's a Divinity that shapes our ends, 
 Rough-hew them how we will. 
 
 liJtObl&enCe. — Racine. 
 PJE who ruleth the raging of the Sea, knows also how to check 
 the designs of the Ungodly. — I submit myself with reverence 
 to his Holy Will. Abner, I fear my God, and I fear none but 
 him. 
 
 ^robtutnce. — Cowper. 
 
 rj.0, mark the matchless working of the Power 
 
 That shuts within the seed the future Flower; 
 Bids these in elegance of form excel, 
 In colour these, and those delight the smell ; 
 Sends Nature forth, the Daughter of the skie3, 
 To dance on Earth, and charm all human Eyes 
 2M 
 
428 ILLU STRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^CObttience. — Spenser. 
 AND is there care in Heaven ? and is there love 
 
 In heavenly Spirits to the creatures base, 
 That may compassion of their evills move ? 
 
 There is ; else much more wretched were the case 
 
 Of men than beasts. But oh ! th' exceeding Grace 
 Of highest God that loves his creatures so, 
 
 And all his works with Mercy doth embrace, 
 That blessed angels he sends to and fro 
 To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe ! 
 
 How oft do they their silver bowres leave 
 To come to succour us that succour want ? 
 
 How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
 The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuivant, 
 Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant ? 
 
 They for us fight, they watch and dewly ward, 
 And their bright Squadrons round about us plant; 
 
 And all for Love, and nothing for reward : 
 
 Oh why should heavenly God to men have such regard ! 
 
 ^rutJettCe, — Shakspeare. 
 'W'HO buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week? 
 
 Or sells Eternity to get a toy ? 
 For one sweet grape, who will the Vine destroy? 
 Or what fond beggar, but to touch the Crown, 
 Would with the Sceptre straight be strucken down ? 
 
 HJritljettc*. — coitm. 
 
 ly/TEN are born with two Eyes, but with one Tongue, in order 
 that they should see twice as much as they say. 
 
 ^ntftence.— Coiton. 
 
 T'HOSE characters, who, like Ventidius, spring from the very 
 dregs of society, and going through every gradation of Life, 
 continue, like him, to rise with every change, and who never quit 
 a single step in the ladder, except it be to gain a higher one, these 
 men are superior to Fortune, and know how to enjoy her Caresses 
 without being the slaves of her Caprice. 
 
 ^PtUtienCe. — Shakspeare. 
 ; TiS better using France, than trusting. 
 Let us be back'd with God, and with the Seas, 
 Which he hath given for Fence impregnable, 
 And with their helps alone defend ourselves : 
 In them, and in ourselves, our Safety lies. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 429 
 
 ^rutinim— Juvenal. 
 
 ^JO other Protection is wanting, provided you are under the 
 guidance of Prudence. 
 
 ^untsfjmcnt. — Wilkes. 
 
 The very worst use to which you can put a Man is to hang him. 
 
 ^pUmStjttUttt — From the Latin. 
 'THE slightest corporal Punishment falls more heavily than the 
 most weighty pecuniary Penalty. 
 
 WutitmiZm. — Bancroft. 
 
 C 1 RIVALRY delighted in outward show, favoured pleasure, multi- 
 plied amusement, and degraded the human race by an exclusive 
 respect for the privileged classes ; Puritanism bridled the passions, 
 commended the virtues of self-denial, and rescued the name of man 
 from dishonour. The former valued courtesy ; the latter justice. 
 The former adorned society by graceful refinements ; the latter 
 founded national grandeur on universal education. The institutions 
 of chivalry were subverted by the gradually increasing weight, and 
 knowledge, and opulence of the industrious classes. The Puritans, 
 rallying upon those classes, planted in their hearts the undying 
 principles of democratic liberty. 
 
 ^Jttr tt J). — Shakspeare. 
 
 Her smoothness, 
 Her very Silence, and her Patience, 
 Speak to the people, and they pity her. 
 
 ^Urit}). — Buckingham. 
 Make my breast 
 Transparent as pure Crystal, that the world, 
 Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought, 
 My Heart does hold. 
 
 $ttritg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 A maiden never bold ; 
 Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion 
 Blush'd at herself. 
 
 $Uttt|). — Shakspeare. 
 There's nothing ill can dwell in such a Temple 
 If the 111 spirit have so fair a house, 
 G-ood things will strive to dwell with't. 
 
 SPutttg. — Hare. 
 
 Purity is the feminine, Truth the masculine, of Honour 
 
*30 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^pUritp. — Hare. 
 12Y the ancients, Courage was regarded as practically the main 
 part of Virtue : by us, though I hope we are not less brave, 
 Purity is so regarded now. The former is evidently the animal 
 excellence, a thing not to be left out when we are balancing the 
 one against the other. Still the following considerations weigh 
 more with me. Courage, when not an instinct, is the creation of 
 society, depending for occasions of Action (which is essential to it) 
 on outward circumstances, and deriving much both of its character 
 and its motives from popular Opinion and Esteem. But Purity is 
 inward, secret, self-sufficing, harmless, and, to crown all, thoroughly 
 and intimately personal. It is indeed a Nature, rather than a 
 Virtue ; and, like other natures, when most perfect, is least con- 
 scious of itself and its perfection. In a word, Courage, however 
 kindled, is fanned by the breath of man : Purity lives and derives 
 its life solely from the Spirit of God. 
 
 ^urSUttS. — Terence. 
 T TAKE it to be a principal rule of Life, not to be too much 
 addicted to any one thing 
 
 (^tiarreiS. — Tacitus. 
 'THE Hatred of those who are the most nearly connected, is the 
 most inveterate. 
 
 (^UarrelS. — Shakspeare. 
 Accursed and unquiet wrangling days ! 
 How many of you have mine Eyes beheld. 
 
 Cartels. — coiton. 
 
 fF you cannot avoid a quarrel with a Blackguard, let your Lawyer 
 manage it, rather thau yourself. No man sweeps his own chim- 
 ney, but employs a chimney-sweeper, who has no objection to dirty 
 work, because it is his trade. 
 
 (QuarrelS. — Shakspeare. 
 Contention, like a Horse, 
 Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, 
 And bears down all before him. 
 
 (QuarreiS. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Beware 
 Of entrance to a Quarrel : but, being in, 
 Bear it that the Opposer may beware of thee. 
 
 l&attlt. — Juvenal. 
 "PVERY Error of the mind is the more conspicuous, and culpable, 
 in proportion to the Rank of the person who commits it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 431 
 
 Itattfe. — Goldsmith. 
 
 QUALITY and Title have such allurements, that hundreds are 
 ready to give up all their own importance, to cringe, to flatter, 
 to look little, and to pall every pleasure in constraint, merely to 
 be among the Great, though without the least hopes of improving 
 their Understanding or sharing their Generosity : they might be 
 happy among their equals, but those are despised for company 
 where they are despised in turn. 
 
 l&anfcs an* Begrees. — s/mkspeare. 
 
 TyHEN that the General is not like the hive, 
 
 To whom the foragers shall all repair, 
 "What Honey is expected ? Degree being vizarded 
 Th' unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. 
 The Heavens themselves, the Planets, and this Centre 
 Observe Degree, Priority, and Place, 
 Insisture, Course, Proportion, Season, Form, 
 Office and Custom, in all line of Order : 
 And therefore is the glorious planet Sol 
 In noble eminence enthroned and sphered 
 Amidst the rest, whose med'cinable eye 
 Corrects the ill aspects of Plauets evil, 
 And posts like the commandment of a King, 
 Sans check, to good and bad. But when the Planets 
 In evil mixture to Disorder wander, 
 What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny ? 
 What raging of the Sea ? shaking of Earth ? 
 Commotion in the Winds ? frights, changes, horrors, 
 Divert and crack, rend, and deracinate 
 The unity and married calm of States 
 Quite from their fixure ? Oh, when Degree is shaken, 
 (Which is the ladder to all high designs) 
 The enterprise is sick. How could communities, 
 Degrees in schools, and Brotherhoods in cities, 
 Peaceful commerce from dividabl» shores, 
 The primogeniture, and due of birth, 
 Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, 
 (But by Degree) stand in authentic place? 
 Take but Degree away, untune that string, 
 And hark what Discord follows ; each thing meets 
 In mere oppugnancy. The bounded waters 
 Would lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 
 And make a sop of all this solid Globe : 
 Streugth would be lord of Imbecility, 
 And the rude son would strike his father dead : 
 
 2m2 
 
432 I I L USTRATIONS OF TR U T II; 
 
 Force would be Right j or rather, Right and Wrong 
 
 (Between whose endless jar Justice resides) 
 
 "Would lose their names, and so would Justice too. 
 
 Then every thing includes itself in power, 
 
 Power into Will, Will into Appetite; 
 
 And Appetite, an universal Wolf, 
 
 So doubly seconded with Will and Power, 
 
 Must make perforce an universal prey, 
 
 And, last, eat up himself. — 
 
 This chaos, when Degree is suffocate, 
 
 Follows the choking. 
 
 And this neglection of Degree it is, 
 
 That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose 
 
 It hath to climb. The General's disdain'd 
 
 By him one step below; he, by the next; 
 
 That next, by him beneath ; so every step, 
 
 Exampled by the first pace, that is sick 
 
 Of his superior, grows to an envious fever 
 
 Of pale and bloodless Emulation. 
 
 HattCmaitt£. — Greville. 
 TV/TAN is said to be a Rational Creature ; but should it not rather 
 be said, that Man is a Creature capable of being Rational, as 
 we say a Parrot is a Creature capable of Speech ? 
 
 <L\aSi)1t£0S. — Shakspeare. 
 HTHAT'S a valiant Flea, that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of 
 a Lion. 
 
 3ft easing.— PUny. 
 
 He picked something out of every thing he read. 
 
 3&tabinQ. — Johnson. 
 T\rHAT we read with inclination makes a stronger impression. 
 If we read without inclination, half the mind is employed in 
 fixing the Attention, so there is but half to be employed on what 
 we read. If a man begins to read, in the middle of a Book, and 
 feels an inclination to go on, let him not quit it to go to the begin- 
 ning. He may perhaps not feel again the inclination. 
 
 I&eafcmg.— Bacon. 
 "DEAD not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for 
 granted, nor to find Talk and Discourse, but to weigh and 
 consider. 
 
 lUaSOn. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 "REASON cannot show itself more reasonable, than to leave rea- 
 soning on things above Reason. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 433 
 
 <KeaSOtt. — Burke. 
 TyE are afraid to put men to live and trade each on his own 
 private stock of Reason • because we suspect that this stock 
 in each man is small, and that the individuals would do better to 
 avail themselves of the general Bank and Capital of Nations and of 
 Ages. 
 
 Reason. — Sir W. Drummond. 
 TTE that will not Reason is a Bigot, he that cannot Reason is a 
 Fool, and he that dares not Reason is a Slave. 
 
 l&eaiSOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 TTE is not a reasonable Man who by chance stumbles upon Reason, 
 but he who derives it from Kuowledge, from Discernment, and 
 
 from Taste. 
 
 Reason. —Anon. 
 
 {~)NE can never repeat too often, that Reason, as it exists in man, 
 is only our intellectual eye, and that, like the eye, to see, it 
 
 needs Light, — to see clearly and far, it needs the Light of Heaven 
 
 &efteUt01t. — Shalcspeare. 
 Tl^HAT rein can hold licentious Wickedness, 
 
 When down the hill he holds his fierce career? 
 We may as bootless spend our vain command, 
 Upon th' enraged Soldiers in their spoil, 
 Or send precepts to th' Leviathan. 
 
 <Ket Ufcmg. — Shakspeare. 
 T\rHAT though the mast be now blown overboard, 
 
 The cable broke, the holding Anchor lost, 
 And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ? 
 Yet lives our Pilot still : Is't meet, that he 
 Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, 
 With tearful eyes add water to the Sea, 
 And give more strength to that which hath too much, 
 Whiles, in his moan, the Ship splits on the rock, 
 Which Industry and Courage might have saved ? 
 Ah, what a shame ! ah, what a fault were this ! 
 
 Ifteuiiking. — Fuller. 
 
 TN all Reprehensions, observe to express rather thy Love than 
 thy Anger ; and strive rather to convince than exasperate : but 
 if the Matter do require any special Indignation, let it appear to 
 be the zeal of a displeased Friend, rather than the passion of a 
 provoked Enemy. 
 
434 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %lttU&titm.—SaviUe. 
 ~T)IVERSIONS are the most properly applied, to ease and relieve 
 those who are oppressed, by being too much employed. Those 
 that are idle have no need of them, and yet they, above all others, 
 give themselves up to them. To unbend our Thoughts, when they 
 are too much stretched by our Cares, is not more natural than it 
 is necessary ; but to turn our whole Life into a holyday, is not 
 only ridiculous, but destroyeth Pleasure instead of promoting it. 
 
 Refinement. — Greviiie. 
 
 'TRUE Delicacy, as true Generosity, is more wounded by an of- 
 fence from itself, if I may be allowed the expression, than to 
 itself. 
 
 Refinement. — La Bruyere. 
 HPHE most delicate, the most sensible of all Pleasures, consists in 
 promoting the Pleasures of others. 
 
 Refinement. — Greviiie. 
 
 r FHERE seems to be something satisfactory resulting from every 
 defect in Human Nature ! and it is in that satisfaction, me- 
 thinks, that all the endearing refinements of Society consist; there 
 are a thousand little and undefinable Delicacies in our conversation, 
 our looks, and even Gestures, arising from these defects, which 
 mutually require to be understood and returned ; nay, there are 
 little indulgences due to these Defects, which the well-disposed and 
 well-conceiving Mind feels a want to bestow as well as to receive, 
 and will be uneasy and dissatisfied till an opportunity offers to do 
 it ; and hence that first of Concerts, the play and harmony of ac- 
 cording Minds ! 
 
 Refinement. — Hume. 
 
 TF refined sense, and exalted sense, be not so useful as Common 
 Sense, their rarity, their novelty, and the nobleness of their 
 objects, make some compensation, and render them the admiration 
 of Mankind. 
 
 Reform* — Lavater. 
 TTE who reforms himself, has done more toward reforming the 
 Public, than a crowd of noisy, impotent Patriots. 
 
 Reforms. — Coiton. 
 
 /^HARLES FOX said that Restorations were the most bloody 
 of all Revolutions; and, he might have added, that Reforma- 
 tions are the best mode of preventing the necessity of either. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 435 
 
 ^.egtet. — Shakspeare. 
 V\7TTAT ! old Acquaintance ! could not all this flesh 
 
 Keep in a little life ? Poor Jack, farewell ! 
 I could have better spared a better man. 
 
 Ifteltgt'on, — Burke. 
 
 \YTE know, and what is better, we feel inwardly, that Religion is 
 the basis of civil Society, and the source of all good and of 
 all comfort. In England we are so convinced of this, that there is 
 no rust of Superstition with which the accumulated absurdity of 
 the human mind might have crusted it over in the course of ages, 
 that ninety-nine in a hundred of the People of England would not 
 prefer to Impiety. 
 
 HeligtOtt. — Hare. 
 "^ORDSWORTH has told us the law of his own mind, the 
 fulfilment of which has enabled him to reveal a new world of 
 poetry : " Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoop than when 
 we soar." That it is so likewise in Religion, wc are assured by 
 those most comfortable words, " Except ye become as little chil- 
 dren, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 1ft el t gum. — Coiton. 
 
 ■ ^HARLES the Fourth, after his abdication, amused himself in his 
 retirement at St. Juste, by attempting to make a number of 
 watches go exactly together. Being constantly foiled in this at- 
 tempt, he exclaimed, "What a fool have I been to neglect ray own 
 concerns, and to waste ray whole Life in a vain attempt to make all 
 men think alike on matters of Religion, when I cannot even make 
 a few Watches keep time together." 
 
 l&eltgtOTt. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 TTNLESS Christianity be viewed and felt in a high and compre- 
 hensive way, how large a portion of our intellectual and moral 
 Nature does it leave without Object and Action ! 
 
 Heltgtcm.— South. 
 
 'TRUTH, like a stately dame, will uot be seen, nor show herself 
 at the first visit, nor match with the Understanding upon an 
 ordinary Courtship or address. Long and tedious attendances must 
 be given, and the hardest fatigues endured and digested : nor did 
 ever the most pregnant Wit in the world bring forth any thing 
 great, lasting, and considerable, without some Pain and Travail, 
 some pangs and Throes before the delivery. Now all this that I 
 have said is to show the force of diligence in the investigation of 
 Truth, and particularly of the noblest of all Truths, which is that 
 of Religion. 
 
436 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 $veltgtOtt.— Fuller. 
 T>LACE not thy amendment only in increasing thy Devotion, but 
 in bettering thy Life. This is the damning Hypocrisy of this 
 age; that it slights all good Morality, and spends its zeal in mat- 
 ters of Ceremony, and a form of Godliness without the Power of it. 
 
 Religion. — Coiton. 
 
 "DELIGION, like its votaries, while it exists on Earth, must have 
 a body as well as a soul. A Religion purely spiritual might 
 suit a being as pure, but Men are compound animals; and the body 
 too often lords it over the Mind. 
 
 IfteltgtOn. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 VOU may depend upon it, Religion is, in its essence, the most 
 gentlemanly thing in the World. It will alone gentilize, if 
 unmixed with cant; and I know nothing else that will, alone. Cer- 
 tainly not the Army, which is thought to be the grand embellisher 
 of Manners. 
 
 S&tllQifm. — Lavater. 
 HHHE more Honesty a man has, the less he affects the air of a 
 Saint. 
 
 3&elt0tCllt.— Hare. 
 "\TANY people make their own God ; and he is much what the 
 French may mean, when they talk of Le bon Dieu, — very in- 
 dulgent, rather weak, near at hand when we want any thing, bat 
 far away out of sight when we have a mind to do wrong. Such a 
 God is as much an Idol as if he were an Image of stone. 
 
 ifteltgton. — Coiton. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY is a bully that talks very loud, when the danger 
 is at a distance ; but the moment she is hard pressed by the 
 Enemy, she is not to be found at her post, but leaves the brunt of 
 the Battle to be borne by her humbler but steadier comrade, Re- 
 ligion. 
 
 IfteltgtOn. — Anon. 
 P ELIGION is the whole Bible : Sects pick out a part of it. But 
 what whole ? The Living whole, to be sure — not the Dead 
 whole : the Spirit ! not the letter. 
 
 IfteltgtCtt. — Selden. 
 'THEY that cry down Moral Honesty, cry down that which is a 
 great part of my Religion — my Duty toward God, and my Duty 
 toward Man. What care I to see a man run after a sermon, if he 
 cozens and cheats as soon as he comes home. On the other side, 
 Morality must not be without Religion ; for if so, it may change, 
 as I see convenience. Religion must govern it. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AND OLD. 437 
 
 iSUltgtOn.— S. T. Coleridge. 
 TF a man is not rising upward to be an Angel, depend upon it, he. 
 is sinking downward to be a Devil. He cannot stop at the 
 Beast. The most savage of men are not Beasts j they are worse, 
 a great deal worse. 
 
 1£eltQt0n.— South. 
 TTE that is a Good Man, is three-quarters of his way toward the 
 being a G-ood Christian, wheresoever he lives, or whatsoever 
 he is called. 
 
 ^eltgtOTt. — & T. Coleridge. 
 TF you bring up your children in a way which puts them out of 
 sympathy with the Religious feelings of the Nation in which 
 they live, the chances are, that they will ultimately turn out Ruffians 
 or Fanatics, and one as likely as the other. 
 
 l£eltCJtMt.— Pascal. 
 T ET it not be imagined that the Life of a good Christian must 
 necessarily be a Life of Melancholy and Gloominess ; for he 
 only resigns some Pleasures, to enjoy others infinitely greater. 
 
 WitUgiQn. — Melmoth. 
 
 1" CANNOT but take notice of the wonderful love of God to man- 
 kind, who, in order to encourage obedience to his Laws, has 
 annexed a present, as well as future reward to a Good Life ; and 
 has so interwoven our Duty and Happiness together, that while we 
 are discharging our obligations to the one, we are, at the same time, 
 making the best provision for the other. 
 
 Religion.— Anon. 
 1" IKE every other Power, Religion too, in widening her empire, 
 may impair her sway. It has been seen too often, both in 
 Philosophy and elsewhere, that, when people have fancied that the 
 world was becoming Christian, Christianity was in fact becoming 
 worldly. 
 
 ifteltgtOlt.— Anon. 
 T\THEN a man is told that the whole of Religion and Morality 
 is summed up in the two Commandments, to love God, and to 
 love our neighbour, he is ready to cry, like Charoba in Gebir, at 
 the first sight of the Sea, " Is this the mighty Ocean ? Is this all ?" 
 Yes ! all : but how small a part of it do your eyes survey ! only 
 trust yourself to it ; launch out upon it ; sail abroad over it : you 
 will find it has no end : it will carry you round the World. 
 
 Helfgtmt* — Fuller. 
 
 ATEASURE not Men by Sundays, without regarding wh^t they 
 do all the Week after. 
 
W J 
 
 438 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 lUltgtOTt. — Colton. 
 A LL who have been great and good without Christianity, would 
 have been much greater and better with it. If there be, anions 
 the Sons of men, a single exception to this maxim, the divine 
 Socrates may be allowed to put in the strongest claim. It was his 
 high Ambition to deserve, by Deeds, not by creeds, an unrevealed 
 Heaven, and by works, not by faith, to enter an unpromised land. 
 
 l^dtgtOn, — Anon. 
 TyHO are the most godlike of men ? The question might be a 
 puzzling one, unless our language answered it for us : the 
 
 0-odliest. 
 
 SfteltfltOtt.— Colton. 
 'THAT country where the Clergy have the most influence, and use 
 it with the most Moderation, is England. 
 
 lUltgtOtt.— Pope. 
 For Virtue's self may too much zeal be had; 
 The worst of madmen is a Saint run mad. 
 
 lUitgton. — Colton. 
 
 "HEN the Methodists first decide on the doctrine they approve, 
 and then choose such Pastors as they know beforehand will 
 preach no other, they act as wisely as a Patient, who should send 
 for a Physician, and then prescribe to him what Medicines he ought 
 to advise. 
 
 l&eltgtcm. _ Colton. 
 
 THERE can be no Christianity where there is no Charity, but 
 the censorious cultivate the forms of Religion, that they may 
 more freely indulge in the only pleasure of their lives — that of 
 calumniating those who to their other feelings add not the Sin of 
 Hypocrisy. 
 
 Religion, — Colton. 
 
 "PHILOSOPHY is a goddess, whose head indeed is in Heaven, 
 but whose feet are upon Earth ; she attempts more than she 
 accomplishes, and promises more than she performs ; she can teach 
 us to hear of the calamities of others with Magnanimity; but it is 
 Religion only that can teach us to bear our own with Resignation. 
 
 Religion. —Addison. 
 JTYPOCRISY itself does great Honour, or rather Justice, to Re- 
 ligion, and tacitly acknowledges it to be an ornament to 
 human nature. The Hypocrite would not be at so much pains to 
 put on the appearance of Virtue, if he did not know it was the 
 most proper and effectual means to gain the Love and Esteem of 
 aiankind. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 433 
 
 lUltgioit* — Cotton. 
 
 "JV/TEN will wrangle for Religion; write for it; fight for it; die for 
 it; any thing but — live for it. 
 
 Ifteltgtcm. — Pope. 
 
 'THERE is nothing wanting to make all rational and disinterested 
 people in the world of one Religion, but that they should talk 
 together every day. 
 
 lUttgUm.— Cotton. 
 
 A S all who frequent any place of Public Worship, however they 
 
 may differ from the doctrines there delivered, are expected to 
 
 comport themselves with Seriousness and Gravity, so in religious 
 
 Controversies, Ridicule ought never to be resorted to on either side. 
 
 KtliQWU. — Moore. 
 'THOUGH thus, my Friend, so long employ'd, 
 
 And so much midnight Oil destroy'd, 
 I must confess, my Searches past, 
 I only learn'd to doubt at last. 
 
 lUltgtOtt.— Sprat 
 
 'THE Head truly enlightened will presently have a wonderful in- 
 fluence in purifying the Heart ; and the Heart really affected 
 with Goodness, will much conduce to the directing of the Head. 
 
 Religion.— CoU&n. 
 
 TT has been said that men carry on a kind of coasting trade with Re- 
 ligion. In the voyage of life, they profess to be in search of 
 Heaven, but take care not to venture so far in their approximations 
 to it, as entirely to lose sight of the Earth ; and should their frail 
 vessel be in danger of Shipwreck, they will gladly throw their 
 darling Vices overboard, as other. Mariners their treasures, only to 
 fish them up again when the Storm is over. 
 
 KcltgtfJTL — Baxter. 
 TT is one thing to take God and Heaven for your portion, as be- 
 lievers do, and another thing to be desirous of it, as a reserve 
 when you can keep the World no longer. It is one thing to submit 
 to Heaven, as a lesser evil than Hell : and another thing to desire it 
 as a greater good than Earth. It is one thing to lay up treasures 
 and hopes in Heaven, and seek it first ; and another thing to be 
 contented with it in our necessity, and to seek the world before it, 
 and give God that the flesh can spare. Thus difFereth the Religion 
 of serious Christians, and of carnal, worldly Hypocrites. 
 
 i^eltgton. — Pope. 
 
 AN Atheist is but a mad, ridiculous derider of Piety ; but a Hy- 
 pocrite makes a sober jest of God and Religion ; he find? it 
 easier to be upon his knee than to rise to a good action. 
 
 2N 
 
440 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Religion.— Baxter. 
 JF it were only the exercise of the body, the moving of the Lips, 
 the bending of the Knee, men would as commonly step to 
 Heaven as they go to visit a friend : but to separate our thoughts 
 and affections from the world, to draw forth all our Graces, and 
 increase each in its proper object, and to hold them to it till the 
 Work prospers in our hands, — this, this is the difficulty. 
 
 Religion. — Shakspeare. 
 J^OVE thyself last; cherish those Hearts that hate thee; 
 
 Corruption wins not more than Honesty. 
 Still in thy right hand carry gentle Peace, 
 To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. 
 Let all the ends thou aim'st at be 
 Thy God's, and Truth's; then, when thou fall'st, 
 Thou fall'st a blessed Martyr. 
 
 Heltsum.— South. 
 
 THE Pleasure of the Religious Man is an easy and portable Plea- 
 sure, such an one as he carries about in his Bosom, without 
 alarming either the Eye or the Envy of the world. — A man put- 
 ting all his Pleasures into this one, is like a traveller's putting all 
 his goods into one Jewel ; the value is the same, and the conve- 
 nience greater. 
 
 IfteltStOn.— Anon. 
 'THE Religious are often charged with judging uncharitably of 
 others; and perhaps the charge may at times be deserved. 
 With our narrow, partial views, it is very difficult to feel the evil 
 of an Error strongly, and yet to think kindly of him in whom we 
 see it. 
 
 Ifteltgion.— Coiton. 
 
 THERE are three modes of bearing the Ills of Life ; by Indiffer- 
 ence, which is the most common ; by Philosophy, which is the 
 most ostentatious; and by Religion, which is the most effectual. 
 
 HeltgtOtt. — Shaftesbury. 
 TF we are told a man is religious, we still ask, what are his Mo- 
 rals? But if we hear at first that he has honest Morals, and is 
 a man of natural Justice and Good Temper, we seldom think of 
 the other question, whether he be religious and devout ? 
 
 KdtgtOlt.— Hare. 
 THE Imagination and the Feelings have each their Truths, aa 
 well as the Reason. The absorption of the three, so as to 
 concentrate them in the same point, is one of the universalities re- 
 quisite in a true Religion. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AND OLD. 44] 
 
 £UltCJtOn Young. 
 
 Know, 
 
 Without Star, or Angel, for their Guide, 
 Who worship God, shall find him. Humble Love, 
 And not proud Reason, keeps the door of Heaven ; 
 Love finds admission, where proud Science fails. 
 
 Religion,— Dry den. 
 RUT whither went his Soul, let such relate 
 Who search the secrets of a future state : 
 Divines can say but what themselves believe ; 
 Strong proofs they have, but not demonstrative : 
 For, were all plain, then all sides must agree, 
 And Faith itself be lost in certainty. 
 To live uprightly then is sure the best : 
 To save ourselves, and not to damn the rest. 
 
 l&eltgton. — Coiton. 
 
 TN all places, and in all times, those Religionists who havo 
 believed too much, have been more inclined to Violence and 
 Persecution, than those who have believed too little. 
 
 l&eltgt(m. — Shakspeare. 
 It is an Heretic that makes the Fire, 
 Not he which burns in't. 
 
 Hrlt'gtOn. — From the Latin. 
 A man devoid of Religion, is like a Horse without a bridle. 
 
 Religion. — Shakspeare. 
 It is Religion that doth make vows kept. 
 
 lieltgtOlt. — Byron. 
 My altars are the Mountains and the Ocean, 
 Earth, Air, Stars, — all that springs from the great Whole, 
 Who hath produced, and will receive the Soul. 
 
 Ifteltgtcm.— Pope. 
 
 Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, 
 But looks through Nature up to Nature's God. 
 
 &tlWOr\. — Cowper. 
 [ VENERATE the man, whose Heart is warn, 
 
 Whose hands are pure ; whose doctrine and whose Life 
 Coincident, exhibit lucid proof 
 That he is honest in the Sacred Cause. 
 
442 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 personal l^rltgton Webster. 
 
 J)OLITICAL emiDence and professional fame fade away and die 
 with all things earthly. Nothing of character is really perma- 
 nent but virtue and personal worth. These remain. Whatever 
 of excellence is wrought into the soul itself belongs to both worlds. 
 Eeal goodness does not attach itself merely to this life j it points 
 to another world, Political or professional reputation cannot last 
 forever; but a conscience void of offence before God and man is an 
 inheritance for eternity. Religion, therefore, is a necessary and 
 indispensable element in any great human character. There is no 
 living without it. Religion is the tie that connects man with his 
 Creator, and holds him to his throne. If that tie be all sundered, 
 all broken, he floats away, a worthless atom in the universe; its 
 proper attractions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole 
 future nothing but darkness, desolation, and death. A man with 
 no sense of religious duty is he whom the Scriptures describe, in 
 such terse but terrific language, as living "without God in the 
 world." Such a man is out of his proper being, out of the circle 
 of all his duties, out of the circle of all his happiness, and away, far, 
 far away, from the purposes of his creation. 
 
 Religion antf JHoralt'tp. — Washington. 
 
 CXF all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prospority, 
 Religion and Morality are indispensable supports. In vain 
 would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labour 
 to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest 
 props of the duties of men and citizens. And let us with caution 
 indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without 
 religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined 
 education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience 
 both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in ex- 
 clusion of religious principle. 
 
 l&eaSOtt in l&eltgtOtt* — Archibald Alexander. 
 r rHAT it is the right and the duty of all men to exercise their 
 Reason in inquiries concerning Religion, is a truth so manifest, 
 that it may be presumed there are none who will be disposed to 
 call it in question. Without reason, there can be no religion; for 
 in every step we take in examining the evidences of revelation, in 
 interpreting its meaning, or in assenting to its doctrines, the exercise 
 of this faculty is indispensable. When the evidences of Christianity 
 are exhibited, an appeal is made to the reason of men for its truth ; 
 but all evidence and all argument would be perfectly futile, if 
 reason were not permitted to judge of their force. This noble 
 faculty was certainly given to man to be a guide in religion as welJ 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 441 
 
 as in other things. He possesses no other means by which he can 
 form a judgment on any subject or assent to any truth ; and it 
 would be no more absurd to talk of seeing without eyes, than of 
 knowing any thing without reason. 
 
 1&emem& ranee. — Skdkspeare. 
 
 Remember thee? 
 Yea, from the table of my Memory 
 I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, 
 All saws of Books, all forms, all pressures past, 
 That Youth and Observation copied there ; 
 And thy commandment all alone shall live 
 Within the Book and volume of my Brain, 
 Unmix' d with baser matter. 
 
 Hememferanee. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Dispute it like a Man. 
 I shall do so : 
 
 But I must also feel it as a Man. 
 I cannot but remember such things were, 
 That were most precious to me. 
 
 Iftemorse. _ Scott. 
 
 TTIGrH minds, of native Pride and force, 
 Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse ! 
 Fear for their scourge mean Villains have ; 
 Thou art the torturer of the Brave. 
 
 WLWpmtmte.— Shakspeare. 
 They say, best Men are moulded out of faults : 
 And, for the most, become much more the better 
 For being a little bad. 
 
 ISepentanee.— Coiton. 
 
 COME well-meaning Christians tremble for their Salvation, be- 
 cause they have never gone through that valley of Tears and 
 of Sorrow, which they have been taught to consider as an ordeal 
 that must be passed through, before they can arrive at Regenera- 
 tion ; to satisfy such minds, it may be observed, that the slightest 
 sorrow for Sin is sufficient, if it produce Amendment, and that the 
 greatest is insufficient, if it do not. 
 
 Hepentanee. — South. 
 
 "DEPENTANCE hath a purifying power, and every Tear is of a 
 cleansing Virtue; but these penitential clouds must be still 
 kept dropping; one shower will not suffice; for Repentance is not 
 one single action, but a course. 
 
 2x2 
 
444 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Repentance.— Rowe. 
 
 TXABITUAL Evils change not on a sudden, 
 
 But many days must pass, and many Sorrows : 
 Conscious Remorse and Anguish must be felt, 
 To curb Desire, to break the stubborn Will, 
 And work a second nature in the Soul, 
 Ere Virtue can resume the place she lost. 
 
 Repentance. — Shdkspeare. 
 T>EPLY not to me with a Fool-born jest; 
 
 Presume not, that I am the thing I was : 
 For Heaven doth know, so shall the world perceive, 
 That I have turn'd away my former self; 
 So will I those that kept me Company. 
 
 Repentance. — Hare. 
 
 \\TE look to our last sickness for Repentance, unmindful that it 
 is during a Recovery men repent, not during a Sickness. 
 For Sickness, by the time we feel it to be such, has its own Trials, 
 its own selfishness : and to bear the one, and overcome the other, 
 is at such a season occupation more than enough for any who 
 have not been trained to it by previous Discipline and practice. 
 
 Repentance. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 OUR Repentance is not so much Regret for the Evil we have done 
 as Fear of its Consequences to us. 
 
 Repentance. — Shakspeare. 
 Q WRETCHED state ! Bosom, black as Death 
 
 limed Soul ; that struggling to be free, 
 Art more engaged ! Help, Angels, make assay ! 
 Bow, stubborn knees ! and, Heart, with strings of steel, 
 Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe. 
 
 ReprOClf. — Sliakspeare. 
 T'HOU hast cast away thyself, being like thyself: 
 
 A Madman so long, now a Fool : What, think'st 
 That the bleak air, thy boisterous Chamberlain, 
 Will put thy shirt on warm ? Will these inoss'd trees, 
 That have outlived the Eagle, page thy heels, 
 And skip, when thou point' st out? Will the cold brook, 
 Candied with Tee, caudle thy morning taste, 
 To cure thy o'ernight's surfeit? call the creatures, — 
 Whose naked natures live in all the spite 
 Of wreakful Heaven ; whose bare unhoused trunks, 
 To Ihe conflicting elements exposed, 
 Answer mere Nature, — bid them flatter thee. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 445 
 
 RepillStOn. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 Strange is it, that our Bloods, 
 Of Colour, Weight, and Heat, pour'd all together, 
 Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off 
 In differences so mighty. 
 
 Reputation.— Seweii. 
 
 Q REPUTATION ! dearer far than Life, 
 
 Thou precious balsam, lovely, sweet of smell, 
 Whose cordial drops once spilt by some rash hand, 
 Not all the owner's care, nor the repenting Toil 
 Of the rude spiller, ever can collect 
 To its first Purity and native Sweetness. 
 
 Resentment. — Lutian. 
 
 Even the Ant has bile. 
 
 Resolution. — Shakspeare. 
 
 DE stirring as the time ; be Fire with Fire ; 
 
 Threaten the Threat'ner, and out-face the brow 
 Of bragging Horror : so shall iuferior eyes, 
 That borrow their behaviours from the Great, 
 Grow great by your example, and put on 
 The dauntless spirit of Resolution. 
 
 Resolution. — Shakspeare. 
 Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose 
 That you resolved to effect. 
 
 Respect — GrevUle. 
 Respect is better procured by exacting than soliciting it. 
 
 icel^ReSpeet. — ShaJcspeare. 
 
 To thine ownself be true ; 
 And it must follow, as the Night the Day; 
 Thou can'st not then be false to any man. 
 
 Sbtlbl&ttyetL — Fuller. 
 "QE fearful only of thyself; and stand in awe of none more than 
 of thine own Conscience. There is a Cato in every man ; a 
 severe Censor of his Manners. And he that reverences this Judge, 
 will seldom do any thing he need repent of. 
 
 Responsibility. — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis ever common, 
 That men are merriest when they are from Home. 
 
 ReStleSSneSS. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 ;r TIS plain there is not in Nature a point of stability to be found: 
 every thing either ascends or declines : when Wars are ended 
 abroad, Sedition begins at home; and when men are freed from 
 fighting for Necessity, they quarrel through Ambition. 
 
446 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 UmiltS. — Colton. 
 'TO judge by the event, is an error all abuse, and all commit ; for, 
 in every instance, Courage, if crowned with success, is Heroism ; 
 if clouded by Defeat, Temerity. When Nelson fought his battle 
 in the Sound, it was the Result alone that decided whether he was 
 to kiss a hand at a Court, or a rod at a Court-Martial. 
 
 Retirement. — Goldsmith. 
 CWEET was the sound, when oft at Evening's close, 
 
 Up yonder hill the Village Murmur rose : 
 There, as I pass'd with careless steps and sloWj 
 The mingling notes came soften'd from below ; 
 The Swain responsive as the Milkmaid sung, 
 The sober Herd that low'd to meet their young; 
 The noisy Geese that gabbled o'er the pool, 
 The playful Children just let loose from School; 
 The Watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whisp'ring wind, 
 And the loud Laugh that spoke the vacant mind; 
 These all in sweet Confusion sought the Shade, 
 And fill'd each pause the Nightingale had made. 
 
 Retirement.— miton. 
 
 A ND may at last my weary Age 
 
 Find out the peaceful Hermitage, 
 The hairy gown and mossy cell, 
 Where I may sit and rightly spell 
 Of every star that Heaven doth shew, 
 And every herb that sips the dew; 
 Till old Experience do attain 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 Retirement. — Spenser. 
 
 r THE Fields did laugh, the Floures did freshly spring, 
 
 The Trees did bud, and early blossomes bore, 
 And all the quire of Birds did sweetly sing, 
 And told that gardin's pleasures in their Caroling. 
 
 Retirement. — Spenser. 
 
 T'O them that list, the World's gay showes I leave, 
 
 And to great ones such follies doe forgive, 
 Which oft through Pride doe their owne perill weave, 
 
 And through Ambition downe themselves doe drive 
 
 To sad decay, that might contented live : 
 Me no such cares nor cumbrous thoughts offend, 
 
 Ne once my Mind's unmoved Quiet grieve, 
 But all the night in silver Sleepe I spend, 
 And all the day, to what I list I doe attend. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4-i' 
 
 Retirement. — Cowper. 
 
 'THE fall of Waters and the song of birds, 
 And hills that echo to the distant herds, 
 Are luxuries excelling all the glare 
 The World can boast, and her chief Favourites share. 
 
 l&ettrement. — Thomson. 
 "N"0 noise, no care, no Vanity, no strife : 
 
 Men, woods, and fields, all breathe untroubled Life : 
 Then keep each Passion down, however dear; 
 Trust me, the tender are the most severe. 
 Guard, while 'tis thiDC, thy philosophic Ease, 
 And ask no Joy but that of virtuous Peace; 
 That bids defiance to the storms of Fate, 
 High Bliss is only for a higher state. 
 
 Retirement. — Smollett. 
 
 "^"ATURE I'll court in her sequester'd haunts, 
 
 By Mountain, Meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell; 
 Where the poised Lark his evening ditty chaunts, 
 And Health, and Peace, and Contemplation dwell. 
 
 Kcttrcment.— Pope. 
 
 "RORN to no Pride, inheriting no strife, 
 Nor marrying discord in a noble Wife, 
 Stranger to civil and religious rage, 
 The good man walk'd innoxious through his Age; 
 No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, 
 Nor dared an Oath, nor hazarded a Lie. 
 Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art, 
 No language but the language of the Heart. 
 By Nature honest, by Experience wise, 
 Healthy by Temp'rance aid by Exercise; 
 His life, though long, to sickness pass'd unknown, 
 His Death was instant, and without a groan. 
 Oh grant me thus to live, and thus to die ! 
 Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy than I. 
 
 Retirement. — Thomson. 
 
 T\THAT, what is Virtue but Repose of Mind, 
 
 A pure ethereal Calm, that knows no storm; 
 
 Above the reach of wild Ambition's wind, 
 Above the Passions that this world deform, 
 And torture Man, a proud malignant worm ; 
 
 But here, instead, soft gales of Passion play, 
 And gently stir the Heart, thereby to form 
 
 A quicker sense of joy ; as breezes stray 
 
 Across th' cnliven'd Skies, and make them still more gay, 
 
448 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Retirement. — Smthey. 
 
 "DUT peace was on the Cottage, and the fold 
 
 From court intrigue, from bickering faction far; 
 Beneath the chestnut tree Love's tale was told; 
 
 And to the tinkling of the light guitar, 
 Sweet stoop'd the western Sun, sweet rose the evening Star. 
 
 Retirement — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 TTOW much they err, who to their interest blind, 
 
 Slight the calm Peace which from Retirement flows ! 
 And while they think their fleeting joys to bind, 
 Banish the tranquil bliss which Heaven for Man design'd ! 
 
 Retirement. — Hammond. 
 
 \\THAT joy to hear the Tempest howl in vain, 
 And clasp a fearful mistress to my breast ! 
 Or lull'd to slumber by the beating Rain, 
 Secure and bappy, sink at last to rest ! 
 
 Retirement. —Johnson. 
 C^OULDST thou resign the park and play, content, 
 
 For the fair banks of Severn or of Trent ; 
 There might'st thou find some elegant retreat, 
 Some hireling Senator's deserted seat j 
 And stretch thy prospects o'er the smiling land, 
 For less than rent the dungeons of the Strand ; 
 There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flow'rs, 
 Direct thy Rivulets, and twine thy bow'rs; 
 And, while thy beds a cheap repast afford, 
 Despise the dainties of a venal Lord : 
 There every bush with Nature's music rings, 
 There every breeze bears Health upon its wings ; 
 On all thy hours Security shall smile, 
 And bless thy evening walk and morning toil. 
 
 Retirement. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 C\ PSYCHE, happy in thine Ignorance ! 
 
 Couldst thou but shun this Heart-tormenting bane ' 
 Be but content, nor daringly advance 
 
 To meet the bitter hour of threatened pain ; 
 
 Pure spotless Dove ! seek thy safe nest again ; 
 Let true Affection shun the public eye, 
 
 And quit the busy circle of the vain, 
 For there the treacherous snares concealed lie ; 
 Oh, timely warn'd, escape ! to safe Retirement fly ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 449 
 
 Retirement.— BeatUe. 
 
 (~)H, how canst thou renounce the boundless store 
 Of charms which Xature to her votary yields ! 
 The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, 
 The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; 
 All that the genial ray of Morning gilds, 
 And all that echoes to the song of Even, 
 
 All that the Mountain's sheltering bosom shields, 
 And all tbe dread magnificence of Heaven, 
 Oh, how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven ! 
 
 Retirement. — Cowper. 
 
 r THE Statesman, Lawyer, Merchant, Man of Trade 
 
 Pants for the refuge of some rural Shade, 
 Where all his long anxieties forgot 
 Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot, 
 Or recollected only to gild o'er 
 And add a smile to what was sweet before, 
 He may possess the Joys he thinks he sees, 
 Lay his old age upon the lap of Ease, 
 Improve the remnant of his wasted span, 
 And having lived a Trifler, die a Man. 
 
 Retirement.— Byron. 
 
 r PO fly from, need not be to hate, Mankind ; 
 All are not fit with them to stir and toil, 
 Nor is it Discontent to keep the Mind 
 Deep in its fountain, lest it overboil 
 In the hot throng where we become the spoil 
 Of our Infection, till too late and long 
 
 We may deplore and struggle with the coil, 
 In wretched interchange of wrong for wrong, 
 Midst a contentious World, striving where none are strong 
 
 Retirement. — Thomson. 
 'THE best of men have ever loved Repose : 
 
 They hate to mingle in the filthy fray, 
 Where the Soul sours, and gradual Rancour grows 
 
 Imbitter'd more from peevish day to day. 
 
 Even those whom Fame has lent her fairest ray, 
 The most renown'd of worthy wights of yore, 
 
 From a base World at last have stolen away. 
 So Scipio, to the soft Cumaean shore 
 Retiring, tasted Joy he never knew before. 
 
 29 
 
450 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Retirement — Shakspeare. 
 [JOW Use doth breed a Habit in a man ! 
 This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 
 I better brook than flourishing peopled Towns. 
 
 Retrospection. — Joanna Baillie. 
 From the sad years of Life 
 We sometimes do short Hours, yea, Minutes strike, 
 Keen, blissful, bright, never to be forgotten ) 
 Which, thro' the dreary gloom of Time o'erpast, 
 Shine like fair sunny spots on a wild waste. 
 
 Retrospection. — Skakspeare. 
 A LAS, 'tis true, I have gone here and there, 
 
 And made myself a motley to the view, 
 Gored my own Thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, 
 
 Made old offences of Affections new. 
 Most true it is, that I have look'd on Truth 
 
 Askance and strangely ; but, by all above, 
 These blenches gave my Heart another youth, 
 
 And worse essays proved thee my best of Love. 
 Now, all is done, save what shall have no end : 
 
 Mine appetite I never more will grind 
 On newer proof, to try an older Friend, 
 
 A God in love, to whom I am confined. 
 Then give me welcome, next my Heaven the best, 
 E'en to thy pure and most most loving breast. 
 
 Retrospection. —Horace. 
 tTE possesses dominion over himself, and is happy, who can every 
 day say, " I have lived." To-morrow the Heavenly Father 
 may either involve the World in dark clouds, or cheer it with clear 
 Sunshine ; he will not, however, render ineffectual the things which 
 have already taken place. 
 
 Retrospection. — Steele. 
 
 A MAN advanced in years, that thinks fit to look back upon his 
 former Life, and call that only Life which was passed with Sa- 
 tisfaction and Enjoyment, excluding all parts which were not plea- 
 sant to him, will find himself very young, if not in his Infancy. 
 
 Retrospection. —Martial 
 OF no day can the Retrospect cause pain to a good man, nor has 
 one passed away which he is unwilling to remember : the 
 period of his Life seems prolonged by his good acts ; and we may 
 be said to live twice, when we can reflect with Pleasure on tho 
 lays that are gone. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 451 
 
 Retrospection, — Southey. 
 
 T CAN remember, with unsteady feet 
 
 Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasure 
 In Flowers, and Toys, and Sweetmeats, things which long 
 Have lost their power to please; which, when I see them, 
 Raise only now a melancholy wish, 
 I were the little Trifler once again 
 Who could be pleased so lightly. 
 
 Iftebenge. — Bacon. 
 
 He that studieth Revenge keepeth his own wounds green. 
 
 iftebolutton. — Coiton. 
 
 T'HE Mob, like the Ocean, is very seldom agitated without some 
 cause superior and exterior to itself; but (to continue the 
 simile) both are capable of doing the greatest Mischief, after the 
 cause which first set them in motion has ceased to act. 
 
 IftebolUttOmgtg. — Sir T. More. 
 T\rHO quarrel more than Beggars? Who does more earnestly 
 long for a change than he that is uneasy in his present cir- 
 cumstances ? And who run to create Confusions with so despe- 
 rate a Boldness, as those who, having nothing else to lose, hope to 
 gain by them ? 
 
 HitfjeSL— Lord Bacon. 
 
 TJE not penny-wise; Riches have Wings, and sometimes they fly 
 away of themselves, sometimes they must be set flying to bring 
 in more. 
 
 HtdjeS — Sterne. 
 
 j"F thou art rich, then show the Greatness of thy Fortune ; or 
 what is better, the Greatness of thy Soul, in the meekness of 
 thy Conversation ; condescend to men of low estate, support the 
 distressed, and patronize the neglected. Be great, 
 
 l£U$e!5. — Martial. 
 
 y^HAT ! Old and rich, and childless too, 
 
 And yet believe your Friends are true ? 
 Truth might perhaps to those belong, 
 To those who loved you poor and young : 
 But, trust me, for the new you have, 
 They'll love you dearly — in your Grave. 
 
 Mtcf)e0. — Montaigne. 
 
 "PLENTY and Indigence depend upon the opinion every one has 
 of them ; and Riches, no more than Glory or Health, have no 
 more Beauty or Pleasure, than their possessor is pleased to lend 
 them. 
 
 2 
 
452 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 IfttCJeS — Young. 
 "\rUCH Learning shows how little mortals know; 
 
 Much Wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy : 
 At best, it babies us with endless toys, 
 And keeps us children till we drop to dust. 
 As monkeys at a Mirror stand amazed, 
 They fail to find what they so plainly see; 
 Thus men, in shining Riches, see the face 
 Of Happiness, nor know it is a shade; 
 But gaze, and touch, and peep, and peep again, 
 And wish, and wonder it is absent still. 
 
 !ttCf)e0.— Sir T. Brown. 
 He hath Riches sufficient, who hath enough to be charitable. 
 
 3&MtUU.— Anon. 
 T?VERY age has its besetting sins; every condition its attendant 
 evils ; every state of Society its Diseases, that it is especially 
 liable to be attacked by. One of the pests which dog civilization, 
 the more so the further it advances, is the Fear of Ridicule ; and 
 seldom has the Contagion been so obnoxious as in England at this 
 day. Is there anybody living, among the upper classes at least,- 
 who has not often been laughed out of what he ought to have done, 
 and laughed into what he ought not to have done ? Who has not 
 sinned ? who has not been a runagate from Duty ? who has not 
 stifled his best feelings ? who has not mortified his noblest desires? 
 solely to escape being laughed at? and not once merely; but time 
 after time : until that which has so often been checked, becomes 
 stunted, and no longer dares lift up its Head. And then, after 
 having been laughed down ourselves, we too join the Pack who 
 go about laughing down others. 
 
 ISaClg %ii&in%. — Doddridge. 
 HPHE difference between rising at five and seven o'clock in the 
 Morning, for the space of forty years, supposing a man to go 
 to bed at the same hour at Night, is nearly equivalent to the 
 addition of ten years to a man's Life. 
 
 ?£xtxtmt Kiqtmx.— Burke. 
 
 AN extreme Rigour is sure to arm every thing against it, and at 
 length to relax into a supine Neglect. 
 
 i&Ummit. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Rumour is a pipe 
 Blown by Surmises, Jealousies, Conjectures ; 
 And of so easy and so plain a stop, 
 That the blunt Monster with uncounted heads, 
 The still discordant wavering Multitude, 
 Can play upou it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 453 
 
 IftUtttOUr. — Shahspeare. 
 
 Loud Rumour speaks : 
 I, from the Orient to the drooping West 
 Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
 The acts commenced on this ball of Earth : 
 Upon my tongues continual Slanders ride ; 
 The which in every language I pronounce, 
 Stuffing the ears of Men with false reports. 
 
 Sacrifice. _ From the Greek. 
 ITE that offers in sacrifice, Pamphilus, a multitude of Bulls 
 and of Goats, of golden Vestments, or purple Garments, or 
 figures of Ivory, or precious Gems, aud imagines by this to con- 
 ciliate the favour of God, is grossly mistaken, and has no solid 
 understanding; for he that would sacrifice with success, ought to 
 be chaste and charitable, no Corrupter of Virgins, no Adulterer, 
 no Robber or Murderer for the sake of lucre. Covet not, Pam- 
 philus, even the thread of another man's needle; for God, who is 
 near thee, perpetually beholds thy actions. 
 
 Rational ^afegiiai'tiS. — Alexander Hamilton. 
 QAFETY 'from external danger is the most powerful director of 
 national conduct. Even the ardent love of liberty will, after a 
 time, give way to its dictates. The violent destruction of life and 
 property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm attendant 
 on a state of continual danger, will compel nations the most at- 
 tached to liberty to resort for repose and security to institutions 
 which have a tendency to destroy their civil and political rights. 
 To be more safe, they at length become willing to run the risk of 
 being less free. 
 
 Sftttetg. — Shahspeare. 
 A Surfeit of the sweetest things 
 The deepest loathing to the Stomach brings. 
 
 Sattetg. — Byron. 
 
 Passion raves herself to rest, or flies; 
 
 And Vice, that digs her own voluptuous tomb, 
 Had buried long his Hopes, no more to rise : 
 
 Pleasure's pail'd Victim ! Life-abhorring gloom. 
 
 Sattetg. — Shahspeare. 
 A S Surfeit is the Father of much Fast, 
 
 So every scope by the immoderate use 
 Turns to Restraint : Our natures do pursue 
 (Like rats that ravin down their proper bane) 
 A thirsty Evil; and when we drink, we die. 
 
154 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Sattetp. — Shakspeare. 
 
 The cloy'd Will, 
 (That satiate yet unsatisfied Desire, 
 That tub both fill'd and running,) ravening first 
 The Lamb, longs after for the Garbage. 
 
 Sattetg. — Steele. 
 PLEASURE, when it is a Man's chief purpose, disappoints 
 itself; and the constant application to it palls the faculty of 
 enjoying it, though it leaves the sense of our inability for that we 
 wish, with a disrelish of every thing else. Thus the intermediate 
 seasons of the Man of Pleasure are more heavy than one would 
 impose upon the vilest Criminal. 
 
 £>atixe.—Pope. 
 
 CATHIE'S my weapon, but I'm too discreet 
 
 To run a-muck, and tilt at all I meet ; 
 I only wear it in a land of Hectors, 
 Thieves, Supercargoes, Sharpers, and Directors. 
 
 Satire. — Pope. 
 
 r^URST be the verse, how well soe'er it flow, 
 
 That tends to make one worthy man my foe, 
 Give Virtue Scandal, Innocence a Fear, 
 Or from the soft-eyed Virgin steal a tear. 
 
 SatUtfJag &\gfyt— Burns. 
 NOVEMBER chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh», 
 
 The short'ning Winter-day draws near a close; 
 The miry beasts retreating frae the Pleugh ; 
 
 The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : 
 
 The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, 
 This night his weekly moil is at an end, 
 
 Collects his Spades, his Mattocks, and his Hoes, 
 Hoping the morn at ease and rest to spend, 
 And weary, o'er the Moor, his course does hameward bend. 
 
 Sagmg antj HBomg.— Johnson. 
 
 TT is not difficult to conceive, that, for many reasons, a man writes 
 much better than he lives. For, without entering into refined 
 Speculations, it may be shown much easier to design than to per- 
 form. A man proposes his schemes of Life in a state of abstraction 
 and disengagement, exempt from the enticements of Hope, the soli- 
 citations of Affection, the importunities of Appetite, or the depres- 
 sions of Fear, and is in the same state with him that teaches upon 
 land the art of Navigation, to whom the sea is always smooth, and 
 the wind always prosperous. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 455 
 
 JC&ktttg. — From the Latin. 
 VO Gain is so certain as that which proceeds from the economical 
 use of what you have 
 
 Scepticism. — Coiton. 
 
 A S the Man of Pleasure, by a vain attempt to be more happy 
 than any man can be, is often more miserable than most men 
 are, so the Sceptic, in a vain attempt to be wise beyond what is 
 permitted to man, plunges into a Darkness more deplorable, and a 
 Blindness more incurable than that of the common herd, whom he 
 despises, and would fain instruct. 
 
 Scepticism. — Greville. 
 Human Knowledge is the parent of Doubt 
 
 Scholastic. — Cou&n. 
 
 TO sentence a man of true Genius to the drudgery of a School, is 
 to put a Race Horse in a mill. 
 
 &tf)00l. — Shenstone. 
 T^THOE'ER excels in that we prize, 
 
 Appears a Hero in our eyes : 
 Each Girl, when pleased with what is taught, 
 Will have the teacher in her thought. 
 When Miss delights in her spinnet, 
 A Fiddler may a fortune get ; 
 A Blockhead, with melodious voice, 
 In boarding-schools may have his choice ; 
 And oft the Dancing Master's art 
 Climbs from the toe to touch the heart. 
 
 Science. — Anon. 
 J> ACON'S prophecies of the advance of Science have been fulfilled 
 far beyond what even he could have anticipated. For Know- 
 ledge partakes of Infinity : it widens with our capacities : the higher 
 we mount in it, the vaster and more magnificent are the prospects 
 it stretches out before us. Nor are we in these days, as men are 
 ever apt to imagine of their own times, approaching to the end of 
 them : nor shall we be nearer the end a thousand years hence than 
 we are now. The family of Science has multiplied : new Sciences, 
 hitherto unnamed, unthought of, have arisen. The seed which 
 Bacon sowed sprang up, and grew to be a mighty tree ; and the 
 Thoughts of thousands of men came and lodged in its branches : 
 and those branches spread " so broad and long, that in the ground 
 the bended twigs took root, and Daughters grew about the Mother 
 Tree, a pillared shade high overarched . . . and echoing walks be- 
 tween/' . . . walks where Poetry may wander, and wreathe hei 
 
 O 2 
 
156 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 blossoms around the massy stems, and where Religion may hymn 
 the praises of that Wisdom, of which Science erects the Hundred- 
 aisled Temple. 
 
 £Tf)e Scriptures.— Boyle. 
 
 A MATCHLESS Temple, where I delight to be, to contemplate 
 the Beauty, the Symmetry, and the Magnificence of the Struc- 
 ture, and to increase my awe, and excite my devotion to the Deity 
 there preached and adored. 
 
 Cf)e 3km. — Byron. 
 
 T'HOU glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form 
 Glasses itself in Tempests : in all time, 
 
 Calm or convulsed — in Breeze, or Gale, or Storm, 
 Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 
 Dark-heaving ; — boundless, endless, and sublime — 
 
 The image of Eternity — the Throne 
 
 Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime 
 
 The monsters of the deep are made ; each Zone 
 
 Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, Dread, Fathomless, Alone. 
 
 2Tf)e Sea.— Byron. 
 (^)H, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious Slave ! 
 
 Whose Soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; 
 Not thou, vain Lord of wantonness and ease ! 
 Whom Slumber soothes not — Pleasures cannot please — 
 Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, 
 And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide, 
 The exulting sense — the pulse's madd'ning play, 
 That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way ? 
 
 2Hje Sea. — Sir A. Hunt 
 T LOVED to stand on some high beetling Rock, 
 
 Or dusky brow of savage Promontory, 
 Watching the Waves with all their white crests dancing 
 Come, like thick-plumed Squadrons, to the shore, 
 Gallantly bounding. 
 
 Cf)e Sea. — Byron. 
 
 T>OLL on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll i 
 
 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; ^ 
 
 Man marks the Earth with ruin — his control 
 Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain 
 The Wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 
 
 A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
 When, for a moment like a drop of rain, 
 
 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
 
 Without a Grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 457 
 
 3Tf)e &Z&. — Byton. 
 
 How happy they, 
 Who, from the toil and tumult of their Lives, 
 Steal to look down where naught but Ocean strives ! 
 
 irecrecg. — Coiton. 
 
 CECRECY has been well termed the Soul of all great designs. 
 Perhaps more has been effected by concealing our own inten- 
 tions, than by discovering those of our Enemy. But great men 
 succeed in both. 
 
 %ttXtl£.— Johnson. 
 
 nrO tell your own Secrets is generally Folly, but that Folly is 
 without Guilt; to communicate those with which we are in- 
 trusted is always Treachery, and Treachery for the most part com- 
 bined with Folly. 
 
 iceCt*CC;r> Mdssinger. 
 
 T HAVE play'd the Fool, the gross Fool, to believe 
 
 The bosom of a Friend would hold a Secret 
 Mine own could not contain. 
 
 =*fCreCg. _ Chesterfield. 
 TF a Fool knows a Secret, he tells it because he is a Fool ; if a 
 Knave knows one, he tells it whenever it is his interest to tell 
 it. But Women and Young Men are very apt to tell what Secrets 
 they know, from the vanity of having been trusted. 
 
 £ecrec#. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 JTOW can we expect another to keep our Secret if we cannot 
 keep it ourselves ? 
 
 Security. — Cotton. 
 TT is fortunate for the interests of Society, that the great mass of 
 mankind are neither Kings nor Prime Ministers, and that men 
 are so impotent that they can seldom bring Evil upon others with- 
 out more or less of danger to themselves. Thus then it is that 
 Public Strength, Security, and Confidence grow out of Private 
 Weakness, Danger, and Fear. 
 
 ^eCUritl). — Hume. 
 gECURITY diminishes the Passions: the Mind, when left to 
 itself, immediately languishes; and, in order to preserve its 
 Ardour, must be every moment supported by a new flow of Passion. 
 For the same reason Despair, though contrary to Security, has a 
 like influence. 
 
 SetJUCttCltt. — Goldsmith. 
 
 Ah, turn thine eyes 
 Where the poor houseless shivering Female lies : 
 
458 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 She, once perhaps, in Village plenty blest, 
 
 Has wept at tales of Innocence distrest; 
 
 Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, 
 
 Sweet as the Primrose peeps beneath the thorn : 
 
 Now lost to all; her friends, her Virtue fled, 
 
 Near her Betrayer's door she lays her head, 
 
 And, pinch'd with cold, and shrinking from the show'r, 
 
 With heavy Heart deplores that luckless hour, 
 
 When idly first, ambitious of the Town, 
 
 She left her Wheel and robes of country brown. 
 
 SetJUCttUtU— Moore. 
 Heaven ! I would rather for ever forsweai 
 The elysium that dwells in a beautiful breast, 
 Than alarm for a moment the Peace that is there, 
 Or banish the Dove from so hallow' d a nest. 
 
 B Y „ 
 
 S^tlUCttOn. _ Skakspeare. 
 'THEN weigh what loss your Honour may sustain, 
 
 If with too credent ear you list his songs ; 
 Or lose your Heart; or your chaste Treasure open 
 To his unmaster'd importunity. 
 Fear it, fear it, my dear sister; 
 And keep you in the rear of your Affection, 
 Out of the shot and danger of Desire. 
 
 i£etfUCttOn* — Bums. 
 TS there, in human form, that bears a Heart- 
 
 A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and Truth ! 
 That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, 
 
 Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth ? 
 
 Curse on his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth ! 
 Are Honour, Virtue, Conscience, all exiled ? 
 
 Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, 
 Points to the Parents fondling o'er their Child, 
 Tben paints the ruin'd Maid, and their distraction wild ? 
 
 SrtMCttOTU — Byron. 
 
 C1HALL Beauty, blighted in an hour, 
 Find joy within her broken bower ? 
 No : gayer insects fluttering by 
 Ne'er droop the wing on those that die, 
 And lovelier things have Mercy shown 
 To every failing but their own, 
 And every woe a Tear may claim, 
 Except an erring Sister's Shame. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 459 
 
 SefcUCttOn. — Shalcspeare. 
 Ay, so you serve us, 
 Till we serve you : but when you have our Roses, 
 You barely leave our Thorns to prick ourselves, 
 And mock us with our barenness. 
 
 Setouctton.— coiton. 
 
 \TTHEN Women send the Seduced to Coventry, but countenance 
 and even court the Seducer, ought we not to wonder if Se- 
 ductions were scarce ? 
 
 jSelf^OttCett. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 HPHERE are few people who are more often in the wrong than 
 those who cannot endure to be so. 
 
 g}tlfz<£antt(il. — Anon. 
 r)NE of the most important, but one of the most difficult things 
 for a powerful mind is, to be its own master. Minerva should 
 always be at hand, to restrain Achilles from blindly following his 
 Impulses and Appetites, even those which are moral and intellec- 
 tual, as well as those which are animal and sensual. A Pond may 
 lie quiet in a plain ; but a Lake wants Mountains to compass and 
 hold it in. 
 
 SelfsOTontCOl.— Goethe. 
 "V^HAT is the best Government? That which teaches us to 
 govern ourselves. 
 
 Sel^(*!ontrOl. — Massinger. 
 He that would govern others, first should be 
 The Master of himself. 
 
 &t\U(&tlXi\Xf3l.— English Proverb. 
 [TE is a Fool who cannot be angry : but he is a wise man who 
 will not. 
 
 £clf'OTontrOl. — Seneca. 
 [ WILL have a care of being a Slave to myself, for it is a perpe- 
 tual, a shameful, and the heaviest of all servitudes ; and thia ' 
 may be done by moderate Desires. 
 
 £elf=OTontrol. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 JHE Constancy of Sages is nothing but the art of locking up 
 their Agitation in their hearts. 
 
 ~t\U ^Deception. — Gremlle. 
 No Man was ever so much deceived by another as by himself. 
 
160 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 i£elf:=3£iamtnatt0n. — Pythagoras. 
 T ET not Sleep fall upon thy Eyes till thou hast thrice reviewed 
 the transactions of the past day. Where have I turned aside 
 from Rectitude? What have T been doing? What have I left 
 undone, which I ought to have done ? Begin thus from the first 
 act, and proceed ; and, in conclusion, at the 111 which thou hast 
 done, be troubled, and rejoice for the Good. 
 
 &tlizlntm$t. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 OUR Virtues disappear when put in competition with our In- 
 terests, as Rivers lose themselves in the Ocean. 
 
 &M$tynt$8. — Sterne. 
 'THERE are some tempers — how shall I describe them — formed 
 either of such impenetrable matter, or wrought up by habitual 
 Selfishness to such an utter insensibility of what becomes of the 
 Fortunes of their fellow-creatures, as if they were not partakers of 
 the same Nature or had no lot or Connection at all with the 
 species. 
 
 g)M8\)nt88. — Young. 
 The Selfish Heart deserves the pain it feels. 
 More gen'rous Sorrow, while it sinks, exalts; 
 And conscious Virtue mitigates the pang. 
 
 Selfishness, — Coiton. 
 
 THHERE are too many who reverse both the Principles and the 
 practice of the Apostle ; they become all things to all Men, not 
 to serve others, but themselves ; and they try all things only to 
 hold fast that which is bad. 
 
 £elf=3£ttotoletfge. — Coiton. 
 
 TTE that knows himself, knows others; and he that is ignorant of 
 himself, could not write a very profound lecture on other 
 men's heads. 
 
 SelfsKttOtDlebge* — Anon. 
 
 THE first step to Self-knowledge is Self-distrust. Nor can we at- 
 
 
 tain to any kind of Knowledge, except by a like process. 
 
 i£el£=lLrjuc. — Coiton. 
 
 T FEAR it must be admitted that our Self-love is too apt to draw 
 some consolation, even from so bitter a source as the Calamities 
 of others; and I am the more inclined to think so, when I consider 
 the converse of this proposition, and reflect on what takes place 
 within us, with respect to our Pleasures. The sting of our Pains 
 is diminished by the assurance that they are common to all; but 
 from feelings equally egotistical, it unfortunately happens that the 
 zest and relish of our Pleasures is heightened by the contrary 
 
R, THIX G S NE W A XD L D. 4(31 
 
 consideration, namely, that they are confined to ourselves. This 
 conviction it is that tickles the palate of the Epicure, that inflames 
 the ardour of the Lover, that lends Ambition her ladder, and ex- 
 tracts the thorns from a Crown. 
 
 Self^Uobe. — Coiton. 
 
 vlELF-LOVE, in a well regulated breast, is as the Steward of the 
 household, superintending the Expenditure, and seeing that 
 Benevolence herself should be prudential, in order to be permanent, 
 by providing that the reservoir which feeds should also be fed. 
 
 £elM3ratSe. — Shakspeare. 
 There's not one Wise Man among twenty will praise himself. 
 
 £elf-^rttie. — Coiton. 
 
 CELF-PRIDE is the common friend of our Humanity, and like 
 the bell of our Church, is resorted to on all occasions ; it mi- 
 nisters alike to our Festivals, or our Fasts; our Merriment, or our 
 Mourning; our Weal, or our Woe. 
 
 Self^HeSpeCt. — Shakspeare. 
 Consideration like an angel came, 
 And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him ; 
 Leaving his body as a Paradise, 
 To envelop and contain celestial spirits. 
 
 &\U~Cau\W$.—Anon. 
 TT is a strange way of showing our humble reverence and Love 
 for the Creator, to be perpetually condemning aud reviling every 
 thing that he has created. Were you to tell a Poet that his 
 poems are detestable, would he thauk you for the compliment? 
 The Evil on which it behooves us to fix our eyes, is that within 
 ourselves, of our own begetting ; the Good without. The half-re- 
 ligious are apt just to reverse this. 
 
 ^Clf^Uf&CtenCg. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A MAN who shows himself too well satisfied with himself, is sel 
 dom pleased with others, and they, in return, are little dia 
 posed to like him. 
 
 £elU&on\unt. — Coiton. 
 
 r rHEREare many moral Actaeons, who are as miserably devoured 
 by objects of their own choosing, as was the fabulous one, by 
 his own Hounds. 
 
 Self^^^OCSfjtp.— Coiton. 
 "\1TERE we to say that we admire the tricks and gambols of a 
 Monkey, but think nothing of that Power that created those 
 limbs and muscles by which these are performed — even a Coxoomb 
 
462 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 would stare at such an asseveration j and yet he is in the daily com- 
 mission of a much grosser contradiction, since he neglects his 
 Maker, but worships himself. 
 
 SntStutlttp. — Moore. 
 (~)H ! Life is a waste of wearisome hours, 
 
 Which seldom the rose of Enjoyment adorns ; 
 And the Heart that is soonest awake to the flowers, 
 Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns. 
 
 Sntmtrilttg. — Coiton. 
 
 SENSIBILITY would be a good portress, if she had but one hand; 
 with her right she opens the door to Pleasure, but with her 
 left to Pain. 
 
 i&enmfltlttp.— Rogers. 
 'THE soul of Music slumbers in the shell, 
 
 Till waked and kindled by the Master's spell; 
 And feeling Hearts — touch them but lightly — pour 
 A thousand melodies unheard before ! 
 
 SenSUalttg. — Shakspeare. 
 What is a Man, 
 If his chief good, and market of his time, 
 Be but to sleep, and feed ? a beast, no more. 
 Sure, He, that made us with such large discourse, 
 Looking before, and after, gave us not 
 That capability and godlike Reason 
 To rust in us unused. 
 
 iBenmtalttg. — Seneca. 
 TF Sensuality were Happiness, beasts were happier than men; 
 but human Felicity is lodged in the Soul, not in the Flesh. 
 
 g>ett0Uaittg. —Shakspeare. 
 
 Ingrateful Man, with liquorish draughts, 
 And morsels unctuous, greases his pure Mind, 
 That from it all consideration slips. 
 
 Smsualttg. —Plato. 
 
 'THOSE wretches who never have experienced the sweets of 
 Wisdom and Virtue, but spend all their time in revels and 
 Debauches, sink downward day after day, and make their whole 
 life one continued series of errors. They never have the courage 
 to lift the eye upward toward Truth, they never felt any the least 
 inclination to it. They taste no real or substantial Pleasure ; but, 
 resembling so many Brutes, with eyes always fixed on the Earth, 
 and intent upon their loaden tables, they pamper themselves up in 
 Luxury and Excess. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 463 
 
 Setbattt*. — Fuller. 
 
 TF thou hast a loitering Servant, send him of thy Errand just 
 before his Dinner. 
 
 Serbants. _ Fuller. 
 
 ;f TIS better that thou be rather something sparing, than very 
 liberal, to even a good Servant j for as he grows full, he in- 
 clines either to be idle, or to leave thee : and if he should at any 
 time murmur, thou mayst govern him by a seasonable Reward. 
 
 Serbants.— Fuller. 
 
 TF thou employest plain Men, and canst find such as are commonly 
 honest, they will work faithfully, and report fairly. Cunning 
 Men will, for their own Credit, adventure without Command ; and 
 from thy business derive Credit to themselves. 
 
 -CrbantS. — Fuller. 
 ~DE not too familiar with thy Servants; at first it may beget 
 Love, but in the end 'twill breed Contempt. 
 
 icetbante. — Fuller. 
 
 /^OMMAND thy Servant advisably with few plain Words, fully, 
 freely, and positively, with a grave Countenance, and settled 
 Carriage : These will procure Obedience, gain Respect, and main- 
 tain Authority. 
 
 SetbantS. — Slienstone. 
 'THE trouble occasioned by want of a Servant, is so much less 
 than the plague of a bad one, as it is less painful to clean a 
 pair of shoes than undergo an excess of Anger. 
 
 Cf)e &tXt*.— Cotton. 
 ~^"0 improvement that takes place in either of the Sexes can 
 possibly be confined to itself; each is an universal Mirror to 
 each ; and the respective Refinement of the one will always be in 
 reciprocal proportion to the polish of the other. 
 
 icfjafospcate. — Anon. 
 "PVERY Age has its own peculiar forms of moral and intellectual 
 Life ; and Goethe has fully proved that an abundant store of 
 materials for the creative powers of the Imagination were to be 
 found, by those who had Eyes to discern them, in what might have 
 been deemed an utterly prosaic Age. The difficulty to which I am 
 referring, is that which he himself has so happily expressed, when 
 in speaking of some comparisons that had been instituted between 
 himself and Shakspeare, he said, " Shakspeare always hits the 
 right nail on the Head at once ; but I have to stop and think 
 which is the right nail, before I hit/' 
 
 2P 
 
464 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ictjafcSpeate. — Dryden. 
 CHAKSPEARE was the man who, of all modem and perhaps 
 ancient Poets, had the largest and most comprehensive Soul. 
 All the images of Nature were still present to him, and he drew 
 them not laboriously, but luckily; when he describes any thing, 
 you more than see it, you feel it too. Those who accuse him to 
 have wanted Learning, give him the greater commendation ; he 
 was naturally learned ; he needed not the spectacles of books to 
 read Nature ; he looked inward, and found her there. 
 
 &$dk%W$iXt.—Anon. 
 
 "M"0 poet comes near Shakspeare in the number of bosom lines, — 
 of lines that we may cherish in our bosoms, and that seem 
 almost as if they had grown there, — of lines that, like Bosom 
 Friends, are ever at hand to comfort, counsel, and gladden us 
 under all the vicissitudes of Life, — of lines that, according to 
 Bacon's expression, " come home to our business and Bosoms/' 
 
 &$ak8$taxe. — Anon. 
 
 C\¥ the wonderful excellence of his Plays, we have no reason for 
 believing that Shakspeare was at all aware ; though Sterling 
 does not go beyond the mark, when he says, that, "if in the wreck 
 of Britain, and all she has produced, one creation of her spirit 
 could be saved by an interposing Genius, to be the endowment of 
 a new World," it would be the volume that contains them. Yet 
 Shakspeare himself did not take the trouble of publishing that 
 volume; and even the single Plays printed during his life seem to 
 have been intended for playgoers, rather than to gain Fame for 
 their Author. 
 
 SljafclSpeate.— Anon. 
 *^JO Heart would have been strong enough to hold the wo of Lear 
 and Othello, except that which had the unquenchable elasticity 
 of Falstaff and the " Midsummer Night's Dream." He too is an 
 example that the perception of the ridiculous does not necessarily 
 imply bitterness and scorn, Along with his intense Humour, and 
 his equally intense piercing insight into the darkest, most fearful 
 depths of Human Nature, there is still a spirit of universal Kind- 
 ness, as well as universal Justice, pervading his works : and Ben 
 Jonson has left us a precious memorial of him, where he calls him 
 " My gentle Shakspeare." This one epithet sheds a beautiful light 
 on his character : its truth is attested by his Wisdom : which could 
 never have been so perfect, unless it had been harmonized by the 
 gentleness of the Dove. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 465 
 
 £f)afcspeare. — Anon. 
 
 CHAKSPEARE'S genius could adapt itself with such nicety to 
 all the varieties of ever- varying Man, that in his "Titus An- 
 dronicus" he has portrayed the very dress of mind which the people 
 of the declining Empire must have worn. I can conceive that the 
 degenerate Romans would clothe their thoughts in just such words. 
 The sayings of the free-garmented folks in " Julius Caesar" could 
 not have come from the close-buttoned generation in "Othello. " 
 Though human Passions are the same in all ages, there are modifi- 
 cations of them dependent on the circumstances of time and place, 
 which Shakspeare has always caught and expressed. He has thus 
 given such a national tinge and epochal propriety to his Characters, 
 that, even when one sees Jaques in a bag-wig and sword, one may 
 exclaim, on being told that he is a French nobleman, "This man 
 must have lived at the time when the Italian taste was prevalent 
 in France/' How differently does he moralize from King Henry 
 or Hamlet ! although their Morality, like all morality, comes to 
 pretty nearly the same conclusion. 
 
 iotafcspearc— Anon. 
 
 'THE whole race of the giants would never pile an Ossa on this 
 Olympus ; their missiles would roll back on their heads from 
 the feet of the Gods that dwell there. Even Goethe and Schiller, 
 when they meddled with Shakspeare, and would fain have mended 
 him, have only proved, what Voltaire, and Dryden himself, had 
 proved before, that "Within his circle none can walk but he." 
 Nor, when Shakspeare's genius passed away from the earth, did any 
 one akin to him reign in his stead. Indeed, according to that law 
 of alternation, which is so conspicuous in the whole history of 
 Literature, it mostly happens that a period of extraordinary Fer- 
 tility is followed by a period of Dearth. After the seven plenteous 
 years come seven barren years, which devour the produce of the 
 plenteous ones, yet continue as barren and ill-favoured as ever. 
 
 portrait Of f)hnsetf. — Shakspeare. 
 THOUGH from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
 
 Was fashion'd to much Honour. From his cradle, 
 He was a Scholar, and a ripe, and good one; 
 Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: 
 Lofty, aud sour, to them that loved him not; 
 But to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer. 
 
 &t)amt. — Plaiitus. 
 I consider that man to be undone who is insensible to Shame. 
 
 SbitkXltBB. — FubUus Syrus. 
 THE sick man acts a foolish part, who makes his Physician his 
 Heir. 
 
466 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 £0tCkne£S£. — Burton. 
 QICKNESS, the mother of Modesty, puts us in mind of our Mor- 
 tality, and while we drive on heedlessly in the full career of 
 worldly pomp and Jollity, kindly pulls us by the ear, and brings 
 us to a proper sense of our Duty. 
 
 Silence. — Shakspeare. 
 
 The Silence often of pure iDnocence 
 Persuades, when speaking fails. 
 
 Silence. —La Rochefoucauld. 
 C1ILENCE is the safest course for any man to adopt who distrusts 
 himself. 
 
 Silence. — Shakspeare. 
 0, my Antonio, I do know of these, 
 That therefore only are reputed wise, 
 For saying nothing. 
 
 Silence. — Coiton. 
 
 A MAN'S Profundity may keep him from opening on a first in- 
 terview, and his Caution on a second ; but I should suspect his 
 Emptiness, if he carried on his Reserve to a third. 
 
 gilCMC.—Bouhours. 
 Silence is a Virtue in those who are deficient in understanding. 
 
 Silence. — Burke. 
 TE the prudence of Reserve and Decorum dictates Silence in some 
 circumstances, in others prudence of a higher order may justify 
 us in speaking our Thoughts. 
 
 Silence. — & T. Coleridge. 
 Silence does not always mark Wisdom. 
 
 Stmpttcitg*-- Shakspeare. 
 
 Whose Nature is so far from doing harms, 
 That he suspects none. 
 
 Simplicity. —Addison. 
 \yHEN a man is made up wholly of the Dove, without the least 
 grain of the Serpent in his composition, he becomes ridicu- 
 lous in many circumstances of Life, and very often discredits his 
 best actions. 
 
 Simplicity- — Steele. 
 Simplicity, of all things, is the hardest to be copied. 
 
 Simplicity. — Shakspeare. 
 He is of a free and open nature, 
 That thinks men honest, that but seem to be so , 
 And will as tenderly be led by th' Nose, 
 As Asses are. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 467 
 
 irtTL — Barrow. 
 CIN is never at a stay ; if we do not retreat from it, we shall ad- 
 vance in it ; and the farther on we go, the more we have to 
 come back. 
 
 <Sut» — Shakspeare. 
 All unavoided is the doom of Destiny, — 
 When avoided Grace makes destiny. 
 
 Sttt. — Baxter. 
 [TSE Sin as it will use you; spare it not, for it will not spare 
 you ; it is your Murderer, and the Murderer of the World ; 
 use it, therefore, as a Murderer should be used. Kill it before it 
 kills you; and though it kill your bodies, it shall not be able to 
 kill your souk ; and though it bring you to the grave as it did 
 your Head, it shall not be able to keep you there. If the thoughts 
 of Death and the Grave and Rottenness be not pleasant to you, 
 hearken to every temptation to Sin, as you would hearken to a 
 temptation to Self-murder, and as you would do if the Devil brought 
 you a knife, and tempted you to cut your throat with it : so do 
 when he oifereth you the bait of Sin. You love not Death; love 
 not the cause of Death. 
 
 5ttt. — Seneca. 
 TVHAT is more miserable than to see an old man only just enter- 
 ing on the practice of Virtue. 
 
 £tn. — South. 
 
 QIN is the fruitful Parent of distempers, and ill lives occasion good 
 Physicians. 
 
 2>ttt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Sin will pluck on Sin. 
 
 &in. — Tillotson. 
 fiJHAME is a great restraint upon sinners at first; but that soon 
 falls off: and when men have once lost their Innocence, their 
 Modesty is not like to be long troublesome to them. For Impu- 
 dence comes on with Vice, and grows up with it. Lesser vices do 
 not banish all Shame and Modesty; but great and abominable 
 Crimes harden men's foreheads, and make them shameless. When 
 men have the Heart to do a very bad thing, they seldom want the 
 face to bear it out. 
 
 Smcetttg. — Tillotson. 
 
 CIXCERITY is like travelling in a plain, beaten road, which com- 
 monly brings a man sooner to his journey's end than by-ways, 
 in which men often lose themselves. 
 
 2p2 
 
468 ILLUSTRATION'S OF TRUTH; 
 
 Sincerity — Shakspeare. 
 ^TIS Words are bonds, his Oaths are oracles ; 
 His Love sincere, his Thoughts immaculate ; 
 His Tears, pure messengers sent from his Heart ; 
 His Heart as far from fraud, as Heaven from Earth. 
 
 Smceritj). — Tiihtson. 
 
 TF the show of any thing be good for any thing, I am sure Sincerity 
 is better; for why does any man dissemble, or seem to be that 
 which he is not, but because he thinks it good to have such a Qua- 
 lity as he pretends to. 
 
 ShtCerttp, _ £ a Rochefoucauld. 
 "Weak persons cannot be sincere. 
 
 Sincerity _£ a Rochefoucauld. 
 ClINCERITY is an opening of the Heart. We find it in very 
 few people ; and that which we generally see is nothing but a 
 subtle Dissimulation to attract the Confidence of others. 
 
 jSMttBularttj) — coiton. 
 
 T ET those who would affect Singularity with success, first deter- 
 mine to be very virtuous, and they will be sure to be very sin- 
 gular. 
 
 Slander. — Spenser. 
 A ND therein wore a thousand Tongs empight 
 Of sundry kindes and sundry quality ; 
 Some were of Dogs, that barked day and night, 
 And some of Cats, that wrawling still did cry, 
 And some of Beares, that groynd continually, 
 And some of Tygres, that did seem to gren, 
 
 And snar at all that ever passed by; 
 But most of them were tongues of Mortall Men, 
 Which spake reproachfully, not caring where nor when. 
 
 ioi&ntlCt, — Shakspeare. 
 Slander; 
 Whose edge is sharper than the Sword; whose Tongue 
 Out-venoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath 
 Bides on the posting winds, and doth belie 
 All corners of the World : Kings, Queens, and States, 
 Maids, Matrons, nay, the secrets of the Grave 
 This viperous Slander enters. 
 
 Slander. —Hare. 
 T\TIIEN will talkers refrain from Evil-speaking ? When listeners 
 refrain from Evil-hearins;. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 469 
 
 glZriim.— Byron. 
 'THE circle smiled, then whisper'd, and then sneer'd ; 
 
 The Misses bridled, and the Matrons frown'd ; 
 Some hoped things might not turn out as they fear'd ; 
 Some would not deem such Women could be found ; 
 Some ne'er believed one half of what they heard ; 
 
 Some look'd perplex'd, and others look'd profound ; 
 And several pitied with sincere regret 
 Poor Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. 
 
 iclatrtJet* — Spenser. 
 TTER Face was ugly, and her Mouth distort 
 
 Foming with poyson round about her gils, 
 In which her cursed Tongue full sharpe and short 
 
 Appear'd like asp'is Sting, that closely kils 
 
 Or cruelly does wound whomso she wils. 
 A Distaffe in her other hand she had, 
 
 Upon the which she little spinnes, but spils; 
 And faynes to weave false Tales and leasing bad, 
 To throw amongst the Good which others had disprad. 
 
 irlattticr. — Shakspeare. 
 T'HE Shrug, the Hum, or Ha; these petty brands, 
 That Calumny doth use : — 
 For Calumny will sear 
 Virtue itself: — these Shrugs, these Hums, and Ha's, 
 When you have said, she's goodly, come between, 
 Ere you can say, she's honest. 
 
 i&lantlCr. — Byron. 
 CKILL'D by a touch to deepen Scandal's tints, 
 
 With all the kind mendacity of hints, 
 While mingling Truth with Falsehood, sneers with smiles, 
 A thread of Candour with a web of wiles ; 
 A plain blunt show of briefly-spoken seeming, 
 To hide her bloodless Heart's soul-harden'd scheming; 
 A lip of lies, a face form'd to conceal ; 
 And, without feeling, mock at all who feel: 
 With a vile mask the Gorgon would disown, 
 A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone. 
 
 Slander. — Anon. 
 
 Slander meets no regard from noble minds ; 
 Only the base believe, what the base only utter. 
 Slander* _ Byron. 
 
 That abominable Tittle-Tattle, 
 
 The cud eschew'd by human cattle. 
 
470 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ftl8ifttf«— Smft. 
 
 ~\TOR do they trust their Tongues alone, 
 
 But speak a language of their own ; 
 Can read a Nod, a Shrug, a Look, 
 Far better than a printed Book ; 
 Convey a Libel in a Frown, 
 And wink a Reputation down; 
 Or, by the tossing of the fan, 
 Describe the Lady and the Man. 
 
 gUrititX.—Shakspeare. 
 The jewel, best enamell'd, 
 Will lose his Beauty; and though Gold 'bides still, 
 That others touch, yet often touching will 
 Wear Gold ; and so no man that hath a name, 
 But Falsehood and Corruption doth it shame. 
 
 Scantier . — Spenser. 
 A FOUL and loathy Creature sure in sight, 
 And in conditions to be loath'd no lesse, 
 For she was stuft with Rancour and Despight 
 Up to the Throat, that oft with bitternesse 
 It forth would breake and gush in great excesse, 
 Pouring out streames of Poyson and of Gall 
 
 'Gainst all that Truth or Vertue doe professe, 
 Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall, 
 And wickedly backbite : her name men Sclaunder call. 
 
 Siamfrer. — Spenser. 
 CLAUNDEROUS reproches, and fowle Infamies, 
 
 Leasings, backbytinges, and vain-glorious crakes, 
 Bad counsels, prayses, and false Flatteries ; 
 All those against that fort did bend their batteries. 
 
 Slander. _ Scott. 
 
 r\K ! many a shaft, at random sent, 
 
 Finds mark the archer little meant ; 
 And many a Word, at random spoken, 
 May soothe or wound a Heart that's broken. 
 
 Scantier. — Shakspeare. 
 We must not stint 
 Our necessary actions, in the fear 
 To cope malicious Censurers ; which ever, 
 As ravenous Fishes, do a vessel follow, 
 That is new trimm'd ; but benefit no farther 
 Than vainly longing. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 471 
 
 planter. — Oowper. 
 
 The Man that dares traduce because he can 
 With safety to himself, is not a Man. 
 
 Stfatttar.— Byr&n. 
 
 HTHE World, as usual, wickedly inclined 
 
 To see a Kingdom or a House o'erturn'd, 
 Whisper'd he had a mistress; some said two, 
 But for domestic quarrels one will do. 
 
 Slanutr. — Spenser. 
 MO wound, which warlike hand of Enemy 
 
 Inflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth light, 
 As doth the poysnous sting which Infamy 
 
 Infixeth in the name of noble wight : 
 
 For by no Art nor any Leeches might 
 It ever can recured be again ; 
 
 Ne all the skill which that immortal spright 
 Of Podalyrius did in it retaine, 
 Can remedy such Hurts ; such Hurts are Hellish Pain. 
 
 i&lanutr;. — Thomson. 
 
 The whisper'd tale, 
 That, like the fabling Nile, no fountain knows. 
 Fair-faced Deceit, whose wily conscious eye 
 Ne'er looks direct. The Tongue that licks the dust, 
 But, when it safely dares, as prompt to sting. 
 
 Scantier ShaJcspcare. 
 
 ~V"0 might nor greatness in Mortality 
 
 Can Censure 'scape ; back-wounding Calumny 
 The whitest Virtue strikes : What King so strong, 
 Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ? 
 
 Sleep. — Steele. 
 TN thee, Oppressors soothe their angry brow ; 
 
 In thee, th' oppress'd forget tyrannic pow'r; 
 In thee, 
 
 The wretch condemn'd is equal to his Judge ; 
 And the sad Lover to his cruel fair; 
 Nay, all the shining Glories men pursue, 
 When thou art wanted, are but empty noise. 
 
 Sleep. — Sir T.Brown. 
 CLEEP is Death's younger brother, and so like him, that I never 
 dare trust him without my Prayers. 
 
472 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 &lCC$. — Shakspeare. 
 
 gentle Sleep, 
 Nature's soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee, 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, 
 And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
 Why rather, Sleep, ly'st thou in smoky cribs, 
 Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 
 And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber; 
 Than in the perfumed chambers of the Great, 
 Under the canopies of costly State, 
 And lull'd with sounds of sweetest Melody ? 
 Oh thou dull God, why ly'st thou with the vile 
 In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch 
 A watch-case, or a common 'larura-bell ? 
 Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, 
 Seal up the Ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains, 
 In cradle of the rude imperious Surge ; 
 And in the visitation of the winds, 
 Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
 Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them 
 With deaf'ning clamours in the slipp'ry shrouds, 
 That, with the hurley, Death itself awakes ? 
 Canst thou, partial Sleep, give thy repose 
 To the wet Sea-boy in an hour so rude ? 
 And, in the calmest and the stillest Night, 
 With all appliances and means to boot, 
 Deny it to a King ? 
 
 Sleep, — Shakspeare. 
 
 'Tis her breathing that 
 Perfumes the chamber thus : The flame o' the taper 
 Bows toward her ; and would under-peep her lids, 
 To see the enclosed Lights, now canopied 
 Under these Windows : White and azure, laced 
 With blue of Heaven's own tinct. 
 
 Sleep, — Shakspeare. 
 Q POLISH'D Perturbation ! golden Care ! 
 
 That keep'st the ports of Slumber open wide 
 To many a watchful night ! — sleep with it now ! 
 Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, 
 As he, whose brow, with homely biggin bound, 
 Snores out the watch of Night. Majesty ! 
 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit 
 Like a rich Armour, worn in heat of day, 
 That scalds with safety. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 473 
 
 Sleep ♦ — Shakspeare. 
 gLEEP, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of Care, 
 
 The Death of each clay's Life, sore Labour's bath, 
 Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, 
 Chief nourisher in Life's feast ! 
 
 Sleep. — Shakspeare. 
 "JIS not the Balm, the Sceptre and the Ball, 
 The Sword, the Mace, the Crown imperial, 
 The enter-tissued robe of gold and pearl, 
 The farsed title running 'fore the King, 
 The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp 
 That beats upon the high shore of this world ; 
 No, not all these thrice-gorgeous Ceremonies, 
 Not all these, laid in bed raajestical, 
 Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave ; 
 Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, 
 Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread ; 
 Never sees horrid Night, the child of Hell ; 
 But, like a lacquey, from the rise to set, 
 Sweats in the eye of Phoebus ; and all night 
 Sleeps in Elysium ; next day, after dawn, 
 Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse ; 
 And follows so the ever-running year 
 With profitable labour to his grave : 
 And (but for Ceremony) such a wretch, 
 Winding up Days with toil, and Nights with Sleep, 
 Had the forehand and vantage of a King. 
 
 S^ep.— Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 QH ! thou best comforter of that sad Heart 
 
 Whom Fortune's spite assails ) come, gentle Sleep, 
 
 The weary mourner soothe ! For well the art 
 Thou knowest in soft forgetfulness to steep 
 The Eyes which Sorrow taught to watch and weep; 
 
 Let blissful visions now her spirits cheer, 
 Or lull her cares to Peace in Slumbers deep, 
 
 Till, from fatigue refresh' d and anxious Fear, 
 
 Hope, like the Morning-star, once more shall reappear. 
 
 Sleep* — Shakspeare. 
 "PNJOY the honey-heavy dew of Slumber : 
 
 Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies, 
 Which busy Care draws in the brains of men ; 
 Therefore thou sleep' st so sound. 
 
474 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 g>Utp.— Young. 
 
 "YTAN'S rich Restorative ; his balmy bath, 
 
 That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play 
 The various movements of this nice machine, 
 Which asks such frequent periods of repair. 
 When tired with vain rotations of the Day, 
 Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn ; 
 Fresh we spin on, till Sickness clogs our wheels, 
 Or Death quite breaks the spring, and motion ends. 
 
 Sleep.— Byron. 
 
 Strange state of being ! (for 'tis still to be) 
 Senseless to feel, and with seal'd Eyes to see. 
 
 Sleep,— Byron. 
 
 A ND she bent o'er him, and he lay beneath, 
 
 Hush'd as the babe upon its mother's breast, 
 Droop'd as the Willow when no winds can breathe, 
 
 Lull'd like the deep of Ocean when at rest, 
 Fair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath, 
 Soft as the callow Cygnet in its rest. 
 
 £Ut$. — ShaJcspeare. 
 I wish mine Eyes 
 Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts : I find, 
 
 They are inclined to do so 
 
 Do not omit the heavy offer of it ; 
 
 It seldom visits Sorrow ; when it doth, 
 
 It is a Comforter. 
 
 Sleep, — Beaumont. 
 TTOW happy is that balm to wretches, Sleep ! 
 
 No cares perplex them for their future state, 
 And fear of Death thus dies in senseless Sleep ; 
 Unruly Love is this way lull'd to rest ; 
 And injured Honour, when redress is lost, 
 Is no way salved but this. 
 
 Sleep. — ShaJcspeare. 
 Sleep, thou ape of Death, lie dull upon her ! 
 And be her sense but as a Monument, 
 Thus in a chapel lying ! 
 
 Sl££P* — Byron. 
 'THE crowd are gone, the Revellers at rest ; 
 
 The courteous host, and all-approving guest, 
 Again to that accustom'd couch must creep, 
 Where Joy subsides, and Sorrow sighs to sleep, 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 475 
 
 And man o'erlabour'd with his being's strife, 
 
 Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of Life : 
 
 There lie Love's feverish hope, and Cunning's guile ; 
 
 Hate's working brain, and lull'd Ambition's wile : 
 
 O'er each vain eve oblivion's pinions wave, 
 
 And quench'd existence crouches in a grave. 
 
 What better name may Slumber's bed become ? 
 
 Night's Sepulchre, the universal Home, 
 
 Where Weakness, Strength, Vice, Virtue, sunk supine, 
 
 Alike in naked helplessness recline ; 
 
 Glad for awhile to heave unconscious breath, 
 
 Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of death, 
 
 And shun, though day but dawn on ills increased, 
 
 That Sleep, the loveliest, since it dreams the least. 
 
 Sleep. — Shakspeare. 
 Downy Sleep, Death's counterfeit. 
 
 SoCtetg. — Thomson. 
 TTAIL, social Life ! into thy pleasing bounds 
 
 Again I come to pay the common stock, 
 My share of service, and, in glad return, 
 To taste thy Comforts, thy protected Joys. 
 
 gomtg.— Byron. 
 
 gOCIETY itself, which should create 
 
 Kindness, destroys what little we had got : 
 To feel for none is the true social art 
 Of the world's stoics — men without a Heart. 
 
 g>mtt$ Pope. 
 
 TTEAVEN forming each on other to depend, 
 
 A Master, or a Servant, or a Friend, 
 Bid * each on other for assistance call, 
 Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all. 
 Wants, Frailties, Passions, closer still ally 
 The common interest, or endear the tie. 
 To these we owe true Friendship, Love sincere, 
 Each home-felt joy that Life inherits here. 
 
 £(JCtCtg. — Milton. 
 Among unequals what Society 
 Can sort, what Harmony or true delight. 
 
 £0CtCtp. — Cowper. 
 A TAN in Society is like a Flow'r, 
 
 Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone 
 His faculties expanded in full bloom 
 Shine out, there only reach their proper use. 
 
 2Q 
 
476 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Somtg. — Pope. 
 A/TAN, like the generous Vine, supported lives : 
 
 The strength he gains is from th' embrace he gives. 
 On their own axis as the planets run, 
 Yet make at once their circle round the Sun; 
 So two consistent motions act the soul ; 
 And one regards itself, and one the whole. 
 Thus God and Nature link'd the general frame, 
 And bade Self-love and Social be the same. 
 
 £0Ctet£- — Moore. 
 THOUGH few the days, the happy evenings few, 
 
 So warm with Heart, so rich with mind they flew, 
 That my full Soul forgot its wish to roam, 
 And rested there, as in a dream at Home ! 
 
 &0mtg.— Byron. 
 
 Society is now one polish'd Horde, 
 
 Form'd of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored. 
 
 SuCtCtj). — Charron. 
 Q.REAT towns are but a larger sort of prison to the Soul, like 
 cages to birds, or pounds to beasts. 
 
 Softness. — Shakspeare. 
 He hath a person, and a smooth dispose, 
 To be suspected; framed to make Women false. 
 
 SulttUfre.— Pope. 
 "DEAR, me, some God ! oh, quickly bear me hence 
 
 To wholesome Solitude, the nurse of Sense ; 
 Where Contemplation prunes her ruffled wings, 
 And the free soul looks down to pity Kings ! 
 
 SolttUtie.— Beattie. 
 A ND oft the craggy Cliff he loved to climb, 
 
 When all in mist the World below was lost. 
 What dreadful Pleasure ! there to stand sublime, 
 Like shipwreck'd mariner on desert coast, 
 And view th' enormous waste of Vapour, tost 
 In billows, lengthening to th' horizon round, 
 
 Now scoop'd in gulfs, with mountains now emboss'd ! 
 And hear the voice of mirth and song rebound, 
 Flocks, Herds, and Waterfalls, along the hoar profound ! 
 g>Olttttfcf.— Bd&rmne. 
 SOLITUDE is one of the highest enjoyments of which our Na- 
 ture is susceptible. Solitude is also, when too long continued, 
 capable of being made the most severe, indescribable, unendurable 
 source of Anguish. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 477 
 
 JCClttUtJC — Byron. 
 nrO sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, 
 To slowly trace the Forest's shady scene, 
 Where things that own not Man's dominion dwell, 
 
 And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ; 
 
 To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, 
 With the wild flock that never needs a fold; 
 
 Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean : 
 This is not Solitude; 'tis but to hold 
 Converse with Nature's charms, and see her stores unroll'd. 
 
 But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of Men, 
 To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, 
 
 And roam along, the World's tired denizen, 
 With none to bless us, none whom we can bless ; 
 Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! 
 
 None that, with kindred Consciousness endued, 
 If we were not, would seem to smile the less 
 
 Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued; 
 
 This is to be alone ; this, this is Solitude ! 
 
 <£olttUtJC — Byron. 
 TF Solitude succeed to Grief, 
 
 Release from pain is slight relief, 
 The vacant bosom's wilderness 
 Might thank the pang that made it less. 
 We loathe what none are left to share — 
 Even Bliss — 'twere Wo alone to bear. 
 The Heart once left thus desolate, 
 Must fly at last, for ease — to hate. 
 
 iCClttUfce. — Rochester. 
 T)EAR solitary groves, where Peace does dwell ! 
 Sweet harbours of pure Love and Innocence ! 
 How willingly could I for ever stay 
 Beueath the shade of your embracing greens, 
 List'ning to the Harmony of warbling birds, 
 Tuned with the gentle murmur of the streams ; 
 Upon whose bank, in various livery, 
 The fragrant offspring of the early year, 
 Their heads, like graceful swans, bent proudly down, 
 See their own beauties in the crystal Flood. 
 
 SolttUne. — Byron. 
 J" LIVE not in myself, but I become 
 
 Portion of that around me ; and to me, 
 High Mountain* are a feeling, but the hum 
 Of human cities Torture. 
 
478 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SolttUfce. — Young. 
 The World's a school 
 Of wrong, and what proficients swarm around ! 
 We must imitate, or disapprove; 
 Must list as their accomplices, or foes. 
 That stains our Innocence; this wounds our Peace. 
 From nature's birth, hence, Wisdom has been smit 
 With sweet Recess, and languish'd for the Shade. 
 
 &OittlrtlC.— Milton. 
 'THERE in close covert by some brook, 
 
 Where no profaner eye may look, 
 Hide me from Day's garish eye, 
 While the bee with honied thigh, 
 That at her flowery work doth sing, 
 And the Waters murmuring, 
 With such consort as they keep, 
 Entice the dewy -feather' d Sleep. 
 
 icdlttUtie. — Byron. 
 
 r rHERE is a Pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 There is a Rapture on the lonely shore, 
 
 There is Society, where none intrudes, 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar : 
 I love not Man the less, but Nature more, 
 
 From these our interviews, in which I steal 
 From all I may be, or have been before, 
 
 To mingle with the Universe, and feel 
 
 What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. 
 
 icOlttUtie. — Byron. 
 A RE not the Mountains, Waves, and Skies, a part 
 Of me and of my Soul, as I of them ? 
 Is not the love of these deep in my heart 
 With a pure Passion ? should I not contemn 
 All objects, if compared with these ! and stem 
 A tide of sufferings, rather than forego 
 
 Such feelings for the hard and worldly phlegm 
 Of those whose eyes are only turn'd below, 
 Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare not 
 glow ? 
 
 icOlttUtie. — Byron. 
 T)ERHAPS there's nothing — I'll not say appals, 
 
 But saddens more by Night as well as day, 
 Than an enormous Room without a soul 
 To break the lifeless Splendour of the whole. 
 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 479 
 
 SolttUto* — Spenser. 
 'THE joyous Birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade, 
 
 Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet j 
 Th' angelicall soft trembling voyees made 
 
 To th' instruments divine Respondence meet; 
 
 The silver sounding instruments did meet 
 With the base murmure of the Waters fall ; 
 
 The Waters fall with difference discreet, 
 Now soft, now loud, unto the Wind did call ; 
 The gentle warbling Wind low answered to all. 
 
 Solttlttie.— Young. 
 
 SACRED Solitude! divine Retreat ! 
 
 Choice of the prudent ! envy of the great ! 
 By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, 
 We court fair Wisdom, that celestial maid : 
 The genuine offspring of her loved embrace, 
 (Strangers on earth !) are Innocence and Peace. 
 
 SolttUtie. — Cowper. 
 How sweet, how passing sweet, is Solitude ! 
 But grant me still a friend in my retreat, 
 Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet. 
 
 JCOlttlrtie. — Milton. 
 Solitude is sometimes best society, 
 And short Retirement urges sweet return. 
 
 i&OlitUtie. — Young. 
 Oh ! lost to Virtue, lost to manly Thought, 
 Lost to the noble sallies of the Soul ! 
 Who think it Solitude to be alone. 
 
 JCOlttUto. — Rogers. 
 No, 'tis not here that Solitude is known. 
 Through the wide World he only is alone 
 Who lives not for another. 
 
 j&OlttUtie.— Byron. 
 (~)H ! that the Desert were my dwelling-place, 
 
 With one fair spirit for my minister, 
 That I might all forget the Human Race, 
 And, hating no one, love but only her ! 
 Ye Elements ! — in whose ennobling stir 
 
 1 feel myself exalted — Can ye not 
 
 Accord me such a being ? Do I err 
 In deeming such inhabit many a spot? 
 Though with thorn to converse can rarely be our lot 
 
 2q2 
 
480 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 
 JCOlttlltie.— Campbell. 
 ENTHUSIAST of the Woods ! when years apace 
 
 Had bound thy lovely waist with woman's zone, 
 The sunrise Path at morn I see thee trace, 
 To hills with high Magnolia overgrown, 
 And joy to breathe the Groves, romantic and alone 
 
 Sfltttlto). — Shakspeare. 
 The Heart hath treble wrong, 
 When it is barr'd the aidance of the Tongue. 
 
 An oven that is stopped, or River staid, 
 Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage : 
 So of concealed Sorrow may be said. 
 
 Sotroto. —Johnson. 
 QORROW is a kind of rust of the Soul, which every new idea 
 contributes in its passage to scour away. It is the putrefac- 
 tion of stagnant Life, and is remedied by Exercise and Motion 
 
 icOtrofcO. — Shakspeare. 
 Short time seems long, in Sorrow's sharp sustaining, 
 Though Wo be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps, 
 And they who watch, see Time how slow it creeps. 
 
 SortOb). — Shakspeare. 
 Sorrow, like a heavy-hanging Bell, 
 Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes : 
 Then little strength rings out the doleful knell. 
 
 SottOto. — Shakspeare. 
 Give Sorrow words : the Grief, that does not speak, 
 Whispers the o'erfraught Heart, and bids it break. 
 
 SOtroto. — Shakspeare. 
 Impatience waiteth on true Sorrow. 
 
 JcCrruto. — Shakspeare. 
 OH, if thou teach me to believe this Sorrow, 
 
 Teach thou this Sorrow how to make me die ; 
 And let belief and Life encounter so, 
 As doth the fury of two desperate Men, 
 Which, in the very meeting, fall and die. 
 
 £c8lT0u3. — Shakspeare. 
 We are fellows still, 
 Serving alike in Sorrow. Lcak'd is our Bark, 
 And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, 
 Hearing the surges threat : we must all part 
 into the Sea of Air. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 481 
 
 icOClOh). — Shakspeare. 
 "RUT lie, nis own affections' Counsellor, 
 
 Is to himself, I will not say, how true ; 
 But to himself so secret and so close, 
 So far from sounding and Discovery; 
 As is the bud bit with an envious worm, 
 Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, 
 Or dedicate his Beauty to the Sun. 
 
 Sorrcto* _ Shakspeare. 
 AND now and then an ample Tear trill'd down 
 
 Her delicate cheek : it seem'd, she was a Queen 
 Over her passion, which, most rebel-like, 
 Sought to be King o'er her. 
 Patience and Sorrow strove 
 
 Which should express her goodliest. You have seen 
 Sunshine and rain at once : — her Smiles and Tears 
 Were like a wetter May. Those happiest smiles, 
 That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know 
 What guests were in her Eyes ; which parted thence, 
 As pearls from diamonds dropt. — In brief, 
 Sorrow would be a Rarity most beloved, 
 If all could so become it. 
 
 SottOto. — Shakspeare. 
 
 T ! here the hopeless merchant of this loss, 
 
 With head declined, and Voice dam in 'd up with wo 
 With sad set eyes and wretched arms across, 
 
 From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow 
 
 The Grief away, that stops his answer so ; 
 But wretched as he is, he strives in vain ; 
 What he breathes out, his Breath drinks up again. 
 
 As through an arch the violent roaring tide 
 Out-runs the eye, that doth behold his haste; 
 
 Yet in the eddy boundeth in his Pride 
 Back to the strait, that forced him on so fast, 
 In rage sent out, recall'd in rage being past : 
 Even so his sighs, his Sorrows, make a saw, 
 To push Grief on, and back the same Grief draw. 
 
 SortOto. — Thomson. 
 
 So many great 
 Illustrious spirits have conversed with Wo, 
 Have in her school been taught, as are enough 
 To consecrate Distress, and make Ambition 
 Even wish the frown beyond the smile of Fortune. 
 
182 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^0 CCO lU, — Shakspeare. 
 I never saw a vessel of like Sorrow, 
 So fill'd, and so becoming. 
 
 JcOCrOUJ. — Shakspeare. 
 
 When my Heart, 
 As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, 
 Lest Hector or my father should perceive me ; 
 I have (as when the Sun doth light a storm) 
 Buried this Sigh in wrinkle of a Smile : 
 But Sorrow, that is couch'd in seeming Gladness, 
 Is like that Mirth Fate turns to sudden Sadness. 
 
 2H)e SbOUl. — Shakspeare. 
 Look, who comes here ! a Grave unto a Soul ; 
 Holding the eternal Spirit against her will, 
 In the vile prison of afflicted breath. 
 
 ^§Z icOUl. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 He who will not give 
 Some portion of his Ease, his Blood, his Wealth, 
 For other's Good, is a poor frozen churl. 
 
 Ef)0 SOttl. — Shakspeare. 
 "POOR Soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
 
 Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, 
 Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, 
 
 Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? 
 Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
 
 Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? 
 Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
 
 Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy Body's end ? 
 Then, Soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, 
 And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; 
 Buy terms Divine in selling hours of dross; 
 Within be fed, without be rich no more : 
 So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men : 
 And, Death once dead, there's no more dying then. 
 
 SHjC Sbml. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 T?iri*t£R we have an immortal Soul, or we have not. If we 
 have not, we are Beasts ; the first and wisest of beasts, it may 
 be ; but still true Beasts. We shall only differ in degree, and not 
 in kind ; just as the elephant differs from the slug. But by the 
 concession of the materialists of all the schools, or almost all, we 
 are not of the same kind as Beasts ; and this also we say from our 
 own Consciousness. Therefore, methinks, it must be the possession 
 of a Soul within us that makes the difference. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 483 
 
 Cf)e SOUl. — Cicero. 
 
 TF I am mistaken in mj opinion that the Human Soul is im- 
 mortal, I willingly err; nor would I have this pleasant Error 
 extorted from me : and if, as some minute Philosophers suppose,, 
 Death should deprive me of my being, I need not fear the raillery 
 of those pretended Philosophers when they are no more. 
 
 Cf)e icOUL — Jean Paul. 
 'THERE are Souls which fall from Heaven like flowers ; but ere 
 the pure and fresh buds cau open, they are trodden in the 
 dust of the Earth, and lie soiled and crushed under the foul tread 
 of some brutal Hoof. 
 
 Cf)e 5)0ttL— Addison. 
 
 'THE Soul, secure in her existence, smiles 
 
 At the drawn dagger, and defies its point : 
 The Stars shall fade away, the Sun himself 
 Grow dim with age ; and Nature sink in years : 
 But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
 Unhurt amid the War of Elements, 
 The Wreck of matter, and the crash of Worlds. 
 
 £Tf)C jcOUL— Armstrong. 
 'THERE is, they say, (and I believe there is,) 
 
 A spark within us of th' Immortal Fire, 
 That animates and moulds the grosser frame ; 
 And when the Body sinks, escapes to Heaven, 
 Its native seat, and mixes with the Gods. 
 
 3Tf)e SOUL — Montgomery. 
 'THE Soul, of origin divine, 
 
 God's glorious Image, freed from clay, 
 In Heaven's eternal sphere shall shine 
 
 A Star of Day ! 
 The Sun is but a spark of Fire, 
 A transient meteor in the sky ; 
 The Soul, immortal as its Sire, 
 
 Shall never die. 
 
 Cfje JcuUl. —Hannah More. 
 'THE Soul on earth is an immortal guest, 
 Compell'd to starve at an unreal feast : 
 A spark, which upward tends by Nature's force : 
 A stream diverted from its Parent source ; 
 A drop dissever'd from the boundless Sea ; 
 A moment, parted from Eternity; 
 A Pilgrim panting for the rest to come; 
 An Exile, anxious for his native Home. 
 
484 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)C £0UL— Rahel. 
 'J'HE Affections and the Will know nothing of a future; the 
 Mind — the Judgement — calls it up and gives it the force ana 
 Life of the present. The Mind alone is free, self-acting, and 
 directed toward the unknown ; the Heart is bound to what is 
 before it. 
 
 2H)e &0Ul. — Sterne. 
 J>EST unto our souls! — 'tis all we want — the end of all our 
 wishes and pursuits : give us a prospect of this, we take the 
 wings of the Morning and fly to the uttermost parts of the Earth 
 to have it in possession : till after many miserable experiments, we 
 have been seeking everywhere for it, but where there is a prospect 
 of finding it ; and that is within ourselves, in a meek and lowly 
 disposition of heart. 
 
 Cf)e *0UL — Greville. 
 f HARDLY know a sight that raises one's Indignation more, 
 than that of an enlarged Soul joined to a contracted Fortune; 
 unless it be that so much more common one, of a contracted Soul 
 joined to an enlarged Fortune. 
 
 ^ptttt.— Byron. 
 JJEAUTIFUL Spirit ! with thy hair of light, 
 And dazzling eyes of Glory, in whose form 
 The charms of Earth's least mortal daughters grow 
 To an unearthly stature, in an essence 
 Of purer Elements ; while the hues of Youth, — 
 Carnation'd like a sleeping infant's cheek, 
 Rock'd by the beating of her mother's Heart, 
 Or the rose-tints, which summer's twilight leaves 
 Upon the lofty glacier's virgin snow, 
 The blush of Earth, embracing with her Heaven, — 
 Tinge thy celestial aspect, and make tame 
 The beauties of the Sunbow which bends o'er thee. 
 
 Ivtgfjt ^Ptrtt. —Jonathan Edwards. 
 
 A MAN of a Right Spirit is not a man of narrow and private 
 
 views, but is greatly interested and concerned for the good of 
 
 the community to which he belongs, and particularly of the city or 
 
 village in which he resides, and for the true welfare of the society 
 
 of which he is a member. 
 
 SHje Spleen. — Pope. 
 
 Hail, wayward Queen ! 
 Who rule the sex to fifty from fifteen; 
 Parent of vapours, and of female wit, 
 Who give th' hysteric, or poetic Fit, 
 On various Tempers act by various ways, 
 
OR, TIIIXGS XEW AND OLD. 48i 
 
 Make some take Physic, others scribble plays ; 
 Who cause the proud their visits to delay, 
 And send the Godly in a pet to pray. 
 
 Cf)e g>$Uttl.— Byron. 
 
 ONE has false Curls, another too much paint, 
 
 A third — where did she buy that frightful Turban ? 
 A fourth's so pale, she fears she's going to faint, 
 
 A fifth's looks vulgar, dowdyish and suburban, 
 A sixth's white Silk has got a yellow taint : 
 
 A seventh's thin Muslin surely will be her bane, 
 And lo ! an eighth appears — " I'll see no more !" 
 For fear, like Banquo's kings, they reach a score. 
 
 C J)e Spring. — Thomson. 
 
 In these green days, 
 Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head ; 
 Life flows afresh ; and young-eyed Health exalts 
 The whole creation round. Coutentment walks 
 The sunny glade, and feels an inward bliss 
 Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of Kings 
 To purchase. 
 
 &te Spring. — Thomson. 
 Wide flush the fields ; the softening Air is balm ; 
 Echo the mountains round; the Forest smiles; 
 And every Sense, and every Heart is Joy. 
 
 &je Spring.— miton. 
 
 TTAIL bounteous May, that dost inspire 
 
 Mirth, Youth, and warm Desire : 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy Blessing. 
 
 &!)£ Opting. — Thomson. 
 "PROM the moist meadow to the wither'd hill, 
 Led by the breeze, the vivid verdure runs, 
 And swells, and deepens; to the cherish'd eye 
 The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves 
 Put forth their buds, unfolding by degrees, 
 Till the whole leafy Forest stands display'd, 
 In full luxuriance to the sighing gales. 
 
 Cfje Statesman. — MUtan, 
 
 With grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
 A Pillar of State ; deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public Care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face shone 
 Majestic. 
 
4*6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)C ftaitteStorm. _ Thomson. 
 
 A LONG the woods, along the moorish fens, 
 
 Sighs the sad Genius of the coming Storm ; 
 And up among the loose disjointed cliffs 
 And fractured mountains wild, the brawling brook 
 And cave, presageful, send a hollow m£>an, 
 Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear. 
 
 Cf)e ILanbz&tQxm. — Thomso?i. 
 
 A boding silence reigns, 
 Dread through the dun expanse j save the dull sound 
 That from the Mountain, previous to the Storm, 
 Rolls o'er the muttering earth, disturbs the flood, 
 And shakes the forest leaf without a breath. 
 Prone, to the lowest vale, aerial tribes 
 Descend : the tempest-loving raven scarce 
 Dares wing the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze 
 The Cattle stand, and on the scowling heavens 
 Cast a deploring eye ; by Man forsook, 
 Who to the crowded Cottage hies him fast, 
 Or seeks the shelter of the downward Cave. 
 
 3T{)e Smoto^tOnit. _ Thomson. 
 TN vain for him the officious Wife prepares 
 
 The fire fair blazing, and the vestment warm ; 
 In vain his little children, peeping out, 
 Into the mingling storm, demand their Sire, 
 With tears of artless Innocence. Alas ! 
 Nor Wife, nor Children, more shall he behold, 
 Nor friends, nor sacred home. On every nerve 
 The deadly Winter seizes; shuts up Sense, 
 And, o'er his inmost Vitals creeping cold, 
 Lays him along the Snows, a stiffen'd corse, 
 Stretch'd out, and bleaching in the northern Blast. 
 
 Storytelling. — Swift. 
 
 gTORY-TELLING is subject to two unavoidable Defects ; frequent 
 repetition and being soon exhausted ; so that whoever values 
 this gift in himself, has need of a good Memory, and ought frequently 
 to shift his Company. 
 
 bribing. — Coiton. 
 
 PTE that strives for the mastery, must join a well disciplined body 
 to a well regulated mind; for with mind and body, as with 
 Man and Wife, it often happens that the stronger vessel is ruled by 
 the w T eaker, although in moral, as in domestic Economy, matters are 
 best conducted where neither party is unreasonable, and where both 
 are agreed. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD 487 
 
 Shrift. — From the Latin. 
 We hate the Hawk because he always lives in arms. 
 
 StUtJg. — Shakspeare. 
 C1TUDY is like the Heaven's glorious sun, 
 
 That will not be deep search'd with saucy looks : 
 Small have continual plodders ever won, 
 Save base Authority from others' books. 
 
 StUtlg. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Continue your resolve 
 To suck the sweets of sweet Philosophy. 
 Only, while we do admire 
 This Virtue, and this moral discipline, 
 Let's be no stoics, nor no stocks, I pray, 
 Or so devote to Aristotle's checks, 
 As Ovid be an outcast quite abjured : 
 Talk logic with acquaintance that you have, 
 And practise rhetoric in your common talk ; 
 Music and Poesy use to quicken you; 
 The mathematics, and the metaphysics, 
 Fall to them, as you find your stomach serves you : 
 No. profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en ; — 
 In brief, Study what you most affect. 
 
 StUtij). — Shakspeare. 
 TJNIVERSAL plodding prisons up 
 
 The nimble spirits in the arteries; 
 As motion, and long-during action, tires 
 The sinewy Vigour of the Traveller. 
 
 CJtUty).— St. Evremond. 
 QTUDY has something cloudy and melancholy in it, which spoils 
 that natural Cheerfulness, and deprives a man of that readiness 
 of wit, and freedom of fancy, which are required toward a polite 
 Conversation. Meditation has still worse effects in civil society ; 
 wherefore let me advise you to take care, that you lose not by it 
 with your Friends what you think to gain with yourself. 
 
 StUtjp.— Seneca. 
 FF you devote your time to Study, you will avoid all the irksome- 
 ness of this Life, nor will you long for the approach of Night, 
 being tired of the Day ; nor will you be a burden to yourself, nor 
 your Society insupportable to others. 
 
 Stgle.— Feltham. 
 J^ SENTENCE well couched, takes both the Sense and the Un- 
 derstanding. 
 
 2R 
 
438 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Stpie. — Swift. 
 "PROPER words in proper places make the true definition of a 
 X Style. 
 
 Stgle. — From the Latin. 
 TTIS Style shows the man. Whether in speaking or writing, a 
 gentleman is always known by his style. 
 
 political Suuserbtencg.— CaUwun. 
 
 "UIRACY, robbery, and violence of every description may, as his- 
 tory proves, be followed by virtue, patriotism, and national 
 greatness ; but where is the example to be found of a degenerate, 
 corrupt, and subservient people, who have ever recovered their 
 virtue and patriotism ? Their doom has ever been the lowest state 
 of wretchedness and misery : scorned, trodden down, and obliterated 
 for ever from the list of nations. May heaven graut that such may 
 never be our doom ! 
 
 i&UCCe00. — Higgons. 
 TTAD I miscarried, I had been a Villain ; 
 
 For men judge actions always by events : 
 But when we manage by a just foresight, 
 Success is Prudence, and Possession Right. 
 
 SUCCCS0. — Thomson. 
 TT is Success that colours all in life : 
 
 Success makes Fools admired, makes Villains honest : 
 All the proud Virtue of this vaunting world 
 Fawns on Success, and Power, howe'er acquired. 
 
 SUCCeSS. — Cotton. 
 TTE that has never known Adversity, is but half acquainted with 
 others, or with himself. Constant success shows us but one 
 side of the world. For, as it surrounds us with Friends, who will 
 tell us only our merits, so it silences those Enemies from whom 
 alone we can learn our defects. 
 
 SUCCeSS. — Shakspeare. 
 'THE great man down, you mark, his favourite flies; 
 
 The poor advanced makes Friends of enemies. 
 And hitherto doth Love on fortune tend : 
 For who not needs, shall never lack a Friend ; 
 And who in want a hollow Friend doth try, 
 Directly seasons him his Enemy. 
 
 SutCfoe.-r Lucretius. 
 
 OH ! deaf to Nature, and to Heaven's command ! 
 
 Against thyself to lift the murdering hand ! 
 damn'd Despair ! — to shun the living light, 
 And plunge thy guilty Soul in endless Night ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 489 
 
 guitibe. — Blair. 
 r^UR time is fix'd j and all our days are number'd ; 
 
 How long, how short, we know not : this we know, 
 Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, 
 Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission. 
 Like sentries that must keep their destined stand, 
 And wait th' appointed hour, till they're relieved 
 Those only are the Brave who keep their ground, 
 And keep it to the last. To run away 
 Is but a Coward's trick : to run away 
 From this World's ills, that at the very worst 
 Will soon blow o'er, thinking to mend ourselves 
 By boldly vent'ring on a World unknown, 
 And plunging headlong in the dark ! 'tis mad : 
 No Frenzy half so desperate as this. 
 
 SutCtUe, — Shakspeare. 
 
 Against Self-Slaughter 
 There is a prohibition so divine, 
 That cravens my weak hand. 
 
 ffltUtal SutCttie. — Chesterfield. 
 T LOOK upon indolence as a sort of Suicide ; for the Man is effi- 
 ciently destroyed, though the appetite of the Brute may survive. 
 
 Summer. — Moore. 
 'HTWAS noon; and every Orange-bud 
 
 Hung languid o'er the crystal flood, 
 Faint as the lids of maiden eyes 
 Beneath a Lover's burning sighs ! 
 
 Cf)* SUTl. — Moore. 
 
 A ND see the Sun himself ! on wings 
 
 Of Glory up the East he springs. 
 Angel of Light ! who from the time 
 Those Heavens began their march sublime, 
 Hath first of all the starry choir 
 Trod in his Maker's steps of Fire ! 
 
 Cf)e Suit. — Cowley. 
 'THOU tide of Glory, which no rest doth know, 
 
 But ever ebb and ever flow ! 
 Thou golden shower of a true Jove ! 
 Who doth in thee descend, and Heaven to Earth make love i 
 
 Cf)e Sun. — Byron. 
 Would that yon orb, whose matin glow 
 Thy listless Eyes so much admire, 
 Did lend thee something of his Fire ! 
 
490 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cf)e ShKXl. — Byron. 
 
 Thou material God ! 
 And representative of the Unknown — 
 Who chose thee for his shadow ! Thou chief star ! 
 Centre of many stars ! which makest our Earth 
 Endurable, and temperest the hues 
 And Hearts of all who walk within thy rays ! 
 Sire of the seasons ! Monarch of the climes, 
 And those who dwell in them ! for near or far, 
 Our inborn Spirits have a tint of thee, 
 Even as our outward aspects ; — thou dost rise, 
 And shine and set in Glory. Fare thee well ! 
 I ne'er shall see thee more. As my first glance 
 Of Love and Wonder was for thee, then take 
 My latest look. 
 
 Cf)e i&tttt- — Southey. 
 J MARVEL not, Sun ! that unto thee 
 In adoration Man should bow the knee, 
 And pour the prayer of mingled Awe and Love; 
 For like a God thou art, and on thy way 
 Of Glory sheddcst with benignant ray, 
 
 Beauty, and Life, and Joyance from above. 
 
 2H)e Sun. — Cowley. 
 
 A LL the World's bravery that delights our eyes, 
 Is but thy several liveries ; 
 Thou the rich dye on them bestow'st, 
 Thy nimble Pencil paints this landscape as thou go'st 
 
 Superiority _ Helvetius. 
 'TO be loved we should merit but little Esteem ; all Superiority 
 attracts awe and aversion. 
 
 Superstition.— Coiton. 
 
 HPHE less we know as to things that can be done, the less skep- 
 tical are we as to things that cannot. Hence it is that Sailors 
 and Gamblers, though not over remarkable for their devotion, are 
 even proverbial for their Superstition ; the solution of this phe- 
 nomenon is, that both these descriptions of men have so much to 
 do with things beyond all possibility of being reduced either to 
 rule, or to reason, — the Winds and the Waves, — and the decisions 
 of the Dice-Box. 
 
 IStinQ Sutetg. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 TF any desire thee to be his Surety, give him a part of what thou 
 hast to spare; if he press thee farther, he is not thy Friend at 
 all, for Friendship rather chooseth harm to itself, than offereth it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 491 
 
 If thou be bound for a stranger, thou art a fool; if for a merchant, 
 thou puttest thy estate to learn to swim; if for a churchman, he 
 hath no inheritance ; if for a Lawyer, he will find an evasion 
 by a syllable or word to abuse thee; if for a poor man, thou must 
 pay it thyself; if for a rich man, he needs not: therefore from 
 Suretyship, as from a manslayer or enchanter, bless thyself; for 
 the best profit and return will be this — that if thou force him for 
 whom thou art bound, to pay it himself, he will become thy Enemy ; 
 if thou use to pay it thyself, thou wilt become a Beggar 
 
 Suspicion. — Spenser. 
 TTE lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce, 
 
 Shewing his Nature in his countenaunce ; 
 His rolling Eies did never rest in place, 
 
 But walkte each where for feare of hid mischaunce, 
 Holding a lattis still before his Face, 
 Through which he still did peep as forward he did pace. 
 
 Stoearing. —Hierocies. 
 
 "PROM a common custom of Swearing, men easily slide into 
 Perjury; therefore if thou wouldst not be perjured, do not use 
 to swear. 
 
 WtyZ SBCOpfjant — SkaJcspeare. 
 ~Y"OU are meek and humble-mouth'd; 
 
 You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, 
 With Meekness and Humility : but your Heart 
 Is cramm'd with Arrogancy, Spleen, and Pride. 
 You have, by fortune, 
 
 Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are mounted, 
 Where powers are your retainers : and your words, 
 Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please 
 Yourself pronounce their office. 
 
 SptpatJS. —-Byron. 
 T1THAT gem hath dropp'd and sparkles o'er his chain ? 
 
 The Tear most sacred, shed for others' pain, 
 That starts at once — bright — pure — from Pity's mine, 
 Already polish'd by the Hand Divine. 
 
 i&guipatfjg. —Darwin. 
 ]V"0 radiant pearl, which crested Fortune wears, 
 
 No gem, that twinkling hangs from Beauty's ears; 
 Not the bright stars, which Night's blue arch adorn; 
 Nor rising Sun, that gilds the vernal Morn; 
 Shine with such lustre as the Tear that flows 
 Down Virtue's manly cheek for others' Woes. 
 2r2 
 
492 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Sgropatf)!). — Thomson. 
 
 The generous Heart 
 Should scorn a Pleasure which gives others Pain. 
 
 SbmWtyV'—Dryden. 
 
 "^ATURE has cast me in so soft a mould, 
 
 That but to hear a story feign' d for Pleasure, 
 Of some sad Lover's death, moistens my Eyes, 
 And robs me of my Manhood. 
 
 Sgmpatfjg- _ Virgil. 
 P^"OT being untutored in Suffering, I learn to pity those in Af- 
 fliction 
 
 SlOTatflg.— Steele. 
 
 'THERE is a kind of Sympathy in Souls, that fits them for each 
 other ; and we may be assured when we see two persons 
 engaged in the warmths of a mutual Affection, that there are 
 certain qualities in both their minds which bear a resemblance to 
 one another. A generous and constant passion in an agreeable 
 Lover, where there is not too great a disparity in other circum- 
 stances, is the greatest Blessing that can befall the person beloved, 
 and if overlooked in one, may perhaps never be found in another. 
 
 Sgtttpattlg. — Sterne. 
 TN benevolent natures the impulse to Pity is so sudden, that like 
 instruments of Music which obey the touch — the objects which 
 are fitted to excite such impressions work so instantaneous an 
 effect, that you would think the Will was scarce concerned, and 
 that the Mind was altogether passive in the Sympathy which her 
 own goodness has excited. 
 
 SgWpatfjg, — Shakspeare. 
 ONE touch of Nature makes the whole world kin — 
 
 That all, with one consent, praise new-born gawds, 
 Though they are made and moulded of things past; 
 And give to Dust, that is a little gilt, 
 More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. 
 
 Jkptpatjg. — Jean Paul 
 'THERE are Eyes which need only to look up, to touch every 
 chord of a breast choked by the stifling atmosphere of stiff and 
 stagnant Society, and to call forth tones which might become the 
 accompanying music of a Life. This gentle transfusion of Mind 
 into Mind is the secret of Sympathy. It is never understood, but 
 ever felt ; and where it is allowed to exert its power, it fills and 
 extends intellectual Life far beyond the measure of ordinary con- 
 ception. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 495 
 
 iE-PmpatJ)!)- — Horace. 
 r rHE Human Countenance smiles on those who smile, and weeps 
 with those who weep. 
 
 Cfje icgrtn, — Thomson. 
 "YTTHEN on his heart the torrent-softness pours, 
 
 Then Wisdom prostrate lies, and fading fame 
 Dissolves in air away; while the fond soul, 
 Wrapt in gay visions of unreal Bliss, 
 Still paints the illusive form ; the kindling grace; 
 The enticing Smile ; the modest-seeming eye, 
 Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying Heaven, 
 Lurk searchless-cunning, Cruelty, and Death, 
 And still, false warbling in his cheated ear, 
 Her syren voice, enchanting, draws him on 
 To guileful shores, and meads of fatal Joy. 
 
 CaCt. — Anon. 
 A LITTLE Management may often evade Resistance, which a 
 vast force might vainly strive to overcome. 
 
 CaCt. — Colton. 
 "MEVER join with your Friend when he abuses his Horse or his 
 Wife, unless the one is about to be sold, and the other to be 
 buried. 
 
 CaCt. _ Colton. 
 /TJ.RAXT graciously what you cannot refuse safely, and conciliate 
 those you cannot conquer. 
 
 Calent. — Colton. 
 
 "\ TEN may have the gifts both of Talent and of Wit, but unless 
 they have also Prudence and Judgment to dictate the when, 
 the where, and the how those gifts are to be exerted, the possessors 
 of them will be doomed to conquer only where nothing is to be 
 gained, but to be defeated where every thing is to be lost ; they 
 will be outdone by men of less brilliant, but more convertible 
 Qualifications, and whose strength, in one point, is not counter- 
 balanced by any disproportion in another. 
 
 Zd If M. — Colton. 
 J)ISAPPOIXTED men, who think that they have Talents, and 
 who hint that their Talents have not been properly rewarded, 
 usually finish their career by writing their own History; but in 
 detailing their Misfortunes, they only let us into the secret of their 
 Mistakes; and, in accusing their patrons of Blindness, make it 
 appear that they ought rather to have accused them of Sagacity, 
 since it would seem that they saw too much, rather than too little ; 
 namely, that second-rate performances were too often made the 
 foundation for first-rate pretensions. 
 
494 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 &U53tOCraCg Of Caleitt. — Thomson. 
 
 Whoe'er amidst the sons 
 Of Reason, Valour, Liberty, and Virtue, 
 Displays distinguish'd Merit, is a Noble 
 Of Nature's own creating. Such have risen, 
 Sprung from the dust ; or where had been our honours ? 
 
 Uatettt Calettt — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT seems that Nature has concealed at the bottom of our minds 
 Talents and Abilities of which we are not aware. The Passions 
 alone have the privilege of bringing them to light, and of giving 
 us sometimes views more certain and more perfect than Art could 
 possibly produce. 
 
 2Talfcm0. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 CPEAKING much is a sign of Vanity j for he that is lavish in 
 Words, is a Niggard in Deed. 
 
 Calfemg. — Cowper. 
 
 "Y\TORDS learn'd by rote, a Parrot may rehearse, 
 
 But talking is not always to converse ; 
 Not more distinct from Harmony divine, 
 The constant creaking of a Country Sign. 
 
 Catftmg* — Young. 
 A DEARTH of words a woman need not fear ; 
 
 But 'tis a task indeed to learn — to hear. 
 In that the skill of Conversation lies ) 
 That shows or makes you both polite and wise. 
 
 Calfttng,— Byron. 
 "RUT light and airy, stood on the alert, 
 
 And shone in the best part of Dialogue. 
 By humouring always what they might assert, 
 
 And listening to the topics most in vogue ; 
 Now grave, now gay, but never dull or pert ; 
 
 And smiling but in secret — cunning rogue ! 
 He ne'er presumed to make an Error clearer, — 
 In short, there never was a better Hearer. 
 
 Caifctttg, — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 XTE that cannot refrain from much speaking, is like a City without 
 Walls, and less pains in the world a man cannot take, than to 
 hold his tongue : therefore if thou observest this rule in all assem- 
 blies, thou shalt seldom err: restrain thy Choler, hearken much, 
 and speak little ; for the Tongue is the instrument of the greatest 
 Good and greatest Evil that is done in the world. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 495 
 
 Calking. —Socrates. 
 QUCH as thy Words are, such will thy Affections be esteemed ; 
 and such will thy Deeds as thy Affections, and such thy Life 
 as thy Deeds. 
 
 Calking. — Young. 
 "VALINE may indeed excite the meekest Dame ; 
 
 But keen Xantippe, scorning borrow'd flame, 
 Can vent her thunders, and her lightnings play, 
 O'er cooling Gruel, and composing Tea. 
 
 Calktng. — Roscommon. 
 What you keep by you, you may change and mend; 
 But Words once spoken can never be recall'd. 
 
 QLalkiUQ. — Lavater. 
 TTE who seldom speaks, and with one calm well-timed word can 
 strike dumb the Loquacious, is a Genius or a Hero. 
 
 Calking. — Shaftesbunj. 
 'THEY who are great Talkers in company, have never been any 
 Talkers by themselves, nor used to private discussions of our 
 home Regimen. 
 
 Calfetng. — Sir Roger V Estrange. 
 'THERE are braying Men in the World as well as braying Asses ; 
 for, what's loud and senseless Talking and Swearing, any other 
 than Braying. 
 
 Calking. — From the French. 
 A WISE Man reflects before he speaks ; a Fool speaks, and then 
 reflects on what he has uttered. 
 
 Calking. — Seiden. 
 
 T^TORDS must be fitted to a Man's mouth : 'twas well said of 
 the fellow that was to make a speech for my Lord Mayor, 
 when he desired to take Measure of his Lordship's Mouth. 
 
 Caifcmg.— Plutarch. 
 
 TF you light upon an impertinent Talker, that sticks to you like 
 
 a Bur, to the disappointment of your important occasions, deal 
 
 freely with him, break off the Discourse, and pursue your Business. 
 
 Calking. — Montesquieu. 
 '"THOSE who have few affairs to attend to, are great Speakers. 
 The less Men think, the more they talk. 
 
 Calking. — Terence. 
 TE who indulges in Liberty of Speech, will hear things in return 
 which he will not like. 
 
406 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 QLalkinQ. — Coiton. 
 
 TT has been well observed, that the Tongue discovers the state of 
 the mind, no less than that of the body ; but, in either case, 
 before the Philosopher or the Physician can judge, the patient 
 must open his mouth. Some men envelop themselves in such an 
 impenetrable cloak of Silence, that the Tongue will afford us no 
 symptoms of the temperament of the mind. Such Taciturnity, 
 indeed, is wise if they are fools, but foolish if they are wise ; and 
 the only method to form a Judgment of these mutes, is narrowly 
 to observe when, where, and how they smile. 
 
 Calfemg, — Plutarch. 
 TF any man think it -a small matter, or of mean concernment, to 
 bridle his Tongue, he is much mistaken ; for it is a point to be 
 silent, when occasion requires ; and better than to speak, though 
 never so well. 
 
 Calfemg. — Socrates. 
 'THE Tongue of a fool is the key of his Counsel, which, in a Wise 
 Man, Wisdom hath in keeping. 
 
 CaSte, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Men more easily renounce their Interests than their Tastes. 
 
 QimtZ.— Burke. 
 TT is for the most part in our skill in Manners, and in the obser- 
 vances of time and place and of Decency in general, that what 
 is called Taste by way of distinction consists ; and which is in 
 reality no other than a more refined Judgment. * * * The cause 
 of a wrong Taste is a defect of Judgment. 
 
 Ca0te. — La Bruyere. 
 'TALENT, Taste, Wit, G-ood Sense, are very different things, 
 but by no means incompatible. Between Good Sense and 
 Good Taste there exists the same difference as between Cause and 
 Effect, and between Wit and Talent there is the same proportion 
 as between a whole and its part. 
 
 Cagte. — Greville. 
 1VTAY not Taste be compared to that exquisite sense of the Bee. 
 which instantly discovers and extracts the Quintessence of 
 every Flower, and disregards all the rest of it ? 
 
 CaSte. — Shenstone. 
 FT seems with Wit and Good-nature, "Utrum horum mavis ac- 
 cipe." Taste and Good-nature are universally connected. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 497 
 
 QiaXatWn. — Shakspeare. 
 T\TE must not rend our Subjects from our laws, 
 
 And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each ! 
 A trembling Contribution ! — why, we take 
 From every tree, lop, bark, and part o' the timber; 
 And though we leave it with a Root, thus hack'd, 
 The Air will drink the Sap. 
 
 IBiUtt CaXattOn. — Shakspeare. 
 
 These exactions 
 Most pestilent to th' Hearing j and, to bear 'era, 
 The back is sacrifice to th' load : This makes bold mouths : 
 Tongues spit their Duties out, and cold Hearts freeze 
 Allegiance in them ; All their. curses now 
 Live where their Prayers did ; and it's come to pass, 
 That tractable Obedience is a slave 
 To each incensed will. 
 
 Direct CaxattOlT. — Shakspeare. 
 TT doth appear : for, upon these Taxations, 
 
 The clothiers all, not able to maintain 
 The many to them 'longing, have put off 
 The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, 
 Unfit for other Life, compell'd by hunger, 
 And lack of other means, in desperate manner 
 Daring the event to the Teeth, are all in uproar, 
 And Danger serves among them. 
 
 Cempet. — Shakspeare. 
 'THAT which combined us was most great, and let not 
 
 A leaner Action rend us. What's amiss, 
 May it be gently heard : When we debate 
 Our trivial difference loud, we do commit 
 Murder in healing Wounds : Then, 
 Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, 
 Nor curstness grow to the matter. 
 
 Cetltpei;. — Shakspeare. 
 TITHY should a Man, whose Blood is warm within, 
 
 Sit like his Grandsire cut in Alabaster ? 
 Sleep, when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice 
 By being peevish ? 
 
 Cempetance Burton. 
 
 'J'EMPERANCE is a bridle of gold : he who uses it rightly, is 
 more like a God than a Man j the English, who are the most 
 subject, of all other people, to Melancholy, are, in general, excel- 
 lent feeders. 
 
 32 
 
498 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cempcranc c. — Hesiod. 
 
 JTOOLS ! not to know how far a humble lot 
 
 Exceeds abundance by Injustice got; 
 How Health and Temperance bless the rustic swain, 
 While Luxury destroys her pamper' d train. 
 
 Cempecancc. — ciaudian. 
 
 J^JEN live best on moderate means: Nature has dispensed to 
 all men wherewithal to be happy, if Mankind did but under- 
 stand how to use her gifts. 
 
 {[Temperance. — Fuller. 
 
 l^T ODE RATION is the silken string running through the pearl- 
 chain of all Virtues. 
 
 temperance. — Socrates. 
 r rHERE is no difference between Knowledge and Temperance; 
 for he who knows what is good and embraces it, who knows 
 what is bad and avoids it, is learned and temperate. But they 
 who know very well what ought to be done, and yet do quite 
 otherwise, are ignorant and stupid. 
 
 Cempetance.— Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 T7XCEPT thou desire to hasten thine end, take this for a general 
 rule, that thou never add any artificial Heat to thy body by 
 Wine or Spice, until thou find that time hath decayed thy natural 
 heat; and the sooner thou beginnest to help Nature, the sooner 
 she will forsake thee, and leave thee to trust altogether to Art. 
 
 Cfje CempcSt.— Campbell. 
 TTE comes ! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky 
 
 With murmuring Wrath, and thunders from on high ! 
 Heaven's fiery Horse, beneath his warrior form, 
 Paws the light clouds, and gallops on the Storm ! 
 Wide waves his flickering Sword ; his bright arms glow 
 Like Summer Suns, and light the World below ! 
 Earth, and her trembling isles in Ocean's bed, 
 Are shook ; and Nature rocks beneath his tread ! 
 
 2Tf)e CempeSt. — Byron. 
 
 'THE sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Night, 
 And Storm, and Darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
 
 Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
 Of a dark eye in Woman ! Far along, 
 From peak to peak, the rattling crags among 
 
 Leaps the live Thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
 But every mountain now hath found a tongue, 
 
 And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, 
 
 Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 499 
 
 And this is in the night : — Most glorious Night ! 
 
 Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be 
 A sharer in thy fierce and far Delight, — 
 
 A portion of the Tempest and of thee ! 
 
 How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, 
 And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 
 
 And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee 
 Of Jthe loud Hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, 
 As if they did rejoice o'er a young Earthquake's birth. 
 
 Cf)e CempeSt.— Byron. 
 TTARK, hark ! deep sounds, and deeper still, 
 Are howling from the Mountain's bosom : 
 There's not a breath of Wind upon the Hill, 
 
 Yet quivers every Leaf, and drops each Blossom : 
 Earth groans as if beneath a heavy Load. 
 
 Ci)e CempeSt. — Spenser. 
 gUDDEINE they see from midst of all the maine 
 
 The surging waters like a Mountaine rise, 
 And the great Sea, puft up with proud Disdaine, 
 To swell above the measure of his guise, 
 As threatning to devoure all that his Powre despise. 
 
 &f)e CempcSt.— Joanna Baillie. 
 'THE Night grows wondrous dark : deep-swelling gusts 
 
 And sultry stillness take the rule by turn, 
 Whilst o'er our heads the black and heavy Clouds 
 Roll slowly on. This surely bodes a Storm. 
 
 Wqz Cempest. — Milton. 
 
 I heard the wrack 
 As Earth and Sky would mingle ; but myself 
 Was distant; and these flaws, though Mortals fear them 
 As dang'rous to the pillar'd frame of Heaven, 
 Or to the Earth's dark basis underneath, 
 Are to the main as inconsiderable, 
 And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze 
 To Man. 
 
 CempeSt at £ea.— Thomson. 
 THEN issues forth the Storm with sudden burst, 
 
 And hurls the whole precipitated air 
 Down, in a torrent. On the passive main 
 Descends the Ethereal force, and with strong gust 
 Turns from its bottom the discolour'd deep. 
 Thro' the black Night that sits immense around, 
 Lash'd into foam, the fierce contending brine, 
 Seems o'er a thousand raging Waves to burn. 
 
 2S 
 
500 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^Temptation. — Spenser. 
 
 TYUT all in vaine : no Fort can be so strong, 
 Ne fleshly Brest can armed be so sownd, 
 
 But will at last be wonne with battrie long, 
 Or unawares at disadvantage fownd : 
 Nothing is sure that growes on earthly grownd : 
 
 And who most trustes in Arme of fleshly might, 
 And boastes in Beautie's chaine not to be bownd, 
 
 Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight, 
 
 And yeeldes his captive neck to Victour's most despight. 
 
 Cemptattcm. — Shakspeare. 
 
 / 'Tis one thing to be tempted, 
 Another thing to fall.^ 
 
 CemptattOn. — Thomson. 
 
 Ah then, ye Fair ! 
 Be greatly cautious of your sliding Hearts : 
 Dare not the infectious Sigh ; the pleading look, 
 Downcast, and low, in meek submission drest, 
 But full of Guile. Let not the serpent Tongue, 
 Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, 
 Gain on your purposed will. Nor in the bower, 
 Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, 
 While Evening draws her crimson curtains round, 
 Trust your soft minutes with betraying Man. 
 
 Cemptatton.— Pope. 
 
 HTHE devil was piqued such Saintship to behold, 
 
 And long'd to tempt him, like good Job of old ; 
 But Satan now is wiser than of yore, 
 And tempts by making rich, not making poor. 
 
 ^Temptation. —Johnson. 
 HTO resist Temptation once is not a sufficient proof of Honesty. 
 If a servant, indeed, were to resist the continued temptation of 
 Silver lying in a window, as some people let it lie, when he is sure 
 his master does not know how much there is of it, he would give 
 a strong proof of Honesty. But this is a proof to which you have 
 no right to put a man. You know, humanly speaking, there is a 
 certain degree of Temptation which will overcome any Virtue. Now, 
 in so far as you approach Temptation to a man, you do him an in- 
 and, if he is overcome, you share his Guilt. 
 
 ^Temptation. — Shakspeare. 
 Devils soonest tempt, resembling Spirits of Light. 
 
 ^Temptation. — From the Latin. 
 Opportunity makes the Thief. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 50i 
 
 CemptattOlT. — Shdkspeare. 
 V IE in the lap of Sin, and not mean harm ? 
 
 It is hypocrisy against the Devil : 
 They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, 
 The devil their Virtue tempts, and they tempt Heaven. 
 
 Cf)0Orp. — Shalspeare. 
 Thoughts are but Dreams till their effects be tried. 
 
 Cijmgs of tf)e SKaorlfc. — Coiton. 
 
 TT would be most lamentable if the good things of this World 
 were rendered either more valuable or more lasting ; for, despi- 
 cable as they already are, too many are found eager to purchase 
 them, even at the price of their Souls ! 
 
 ^Tfjinfterg;. — Dugald Stewart. 
 'THERE are very few original Thinkers in the world, or ever have 
 been ; the greatest part of those who are called Philosophers, 
 have adopted the opinions of some who went before them 
 
 Cfnnfttng. — Ocero. 
 
 TITHATEVER that be, which thinks, which understands, which 
 wills, which acts, it is something celestial and Divine; and, 
 upon that account, must necessarily be eternal. 
 
 QlilinbinQ. — Lavater. 
 'THINKERS are scarce as Gold : but he, whose thoughts embrace 
 all his subject, pursues it uninterrupted and fearless of conse- 
 quences, is a Diamond of enormous size. 
 
 CJKlritmg. — Cotton. 
 
 'THOSE who have finished by making all others think with them, 
 have usually been those who began by daring to think with 
 themselves. 
 
 Cf) tnftmg.— Johnson. 
 "V/TANKIND have a great aversion to intellectual Labour; but 
 even supposing Knowledge to be easily attainable, more people 
 would be content to be ignorant than would take even a little 
 trouble to acquire it. 
 
 Cfjttgt.— Byron. 
 
 Till taught by pain, 
 Men really know not what good Water's worth. 
 If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, 
 
 Or with a famish'd boat's-crew had your berth, 
 Or in the Desert heard the camel's bell, 
 You'd wish yourself where Truth is — in a well. 
 
502 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CJjOUgf)t0 atttl £^Cltft0. — Hare. 
 TT is much easier to think right without doing right, than to do 
 right without thinking right. Just Thoughts may, and wofully 
 often do fail of producing just Deeds; but just Deeds are sure to 
 beget just Thoughts. For when the Heart is pure and straight, 
 there is hardly any thing which can mislead the Understanding in 
 matters of immediate personal concernment. But the clearest Un- 
 derstanding can do little in purifying an impure Heart, the strongest 
 little in straightening a crooked one. You cannot reason or talk 
 an Augean stable into cleanliness. A single day's work would 
 make more progress in such a task than a Century's words. 
 
 f&XVUt. — Shakspeare. 
 Merry Larks are ploughman's Clocks. 
 
 ^Ttnte. — Shakspeare. 
 Time, whose million'd accidents 
 Creep in 'twixt Vows, and change decrees of Kings, 
 Tan sacred Beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents, 
 
 Divert strong minds to the course of altering things. 
 
 <JTtltte» — Shakspeare. 
 Time. I, — that please some, try all; both Joy and Terror, 
 Of Good and Bad ; that make, and unfold, Error. 
 
 ^LiXttt* — Joanna Baillie. 
 Still on it creeps, 
 Each little moment at another's heels, 
 Till Hours, Days, Years, and Ages are made up 
 Of such small parts as these, and men look back, 
 Worn and bewilder'd, wond'ring how it is. 
 Thou trav'llest like a Ship in the wide ocean, 
 Which hath no bounding shore to mark its progress. 
 
 Ctttte, — Clarendon. 
 TT is no wonder that when we are prodigal of nothing else, when 
 we are over-thrifty of many things which we may well spare, 
 we are very prodigal of our Time, which is the only precious Jewel 
 of which we cannot be too thrifty, because we look upon it as 
 nothing worth, and that makes us not care how we spend it. The 
 Labouring Man and the Artificer knows what every hour of his 
 time is worth, what it will yield him, and parts not with it, but 
 for the full value : they are only noblemen and gentlemen, who 
 should know best how to use it, that think it only fit to be cast 
 away; and their not knowing how to set a true value upon this, is 
 the true cause of the wrong estimate they make of all other things. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 503 
 
 Zimt.—Bj/ron. 
 'THERE is a Temple in ruin stands, 
 
 Fashion'd by long-forgotten hands ; 
 Two or three Columns, and many a stone, 
 Marble and Granite, with grass o'ergrown ! 
 Out upon Time ! it will leave no more 
 Of the things to come than the things before ! 
 Out upon Time ! who for ever will leave 
 But enough of the Past for the Future to grieve 
 O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must be : 
 What we have seen, our sons shall see ; 
 Remnants of things that have pass'd away, 
 Fragments of Stone, rear'd by Creatures of Clay ! 
 
 Cime.— Byron. 
 AND there they stand, as stands a lofty Mind, 
 
 Worn, but unstooping to the baser Crowd, 
 All tenantless, save to the crannying Wind, 
 Or holding dark communion with the Cloud. 
 
 $Ttme. — Shakspeare. 
 
 The End crowns all ; 
 And that old common arbitrator, Time, 
 Will one day end it. 
 
 Ctme. — Colton. 
 HTIME is the most subtle yet the most insatiable of Depredators, 
 and by appearing to take nothing, is permitted to take all ; 
 nor can it be satisfied, until it has stolen the World from us, and 
 us from the World. It constantly flies, yet overcomes all things 
 by flight ; and although it is the present ally, it will be the future 
 conqueror of Death. Time, the cradle of Hope, but the grave of 
 Ambition, is the stern corrector of Fools, but the salutary coun- 
 sellor of the Wise, bringing all they dread to the one, and all they 
 desire to the other ; but like Cassandra, it warns us with a voice 
 that even the sagest discredit too long, and the silliest believe too 
 late. Wisdom walks before it, Opportunity with it, and Repentance 
 behind it ; he that has made it his friend, will have little to fear 
 from his Enemies, but he that has made it his enemy, will have 
 little to hope from his Friends. 
 
 3T tltt e . — Sh a k spear e. 
 We see which way the stream of Time doth run, 
 And are enforced from our most quiet sphere 
 By the rough torrent of Occasion. 
 2s2 
 
504 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cttne. — Cowper. 
 Time as he passes us, has a Dove's wing, 
 Unsoil'd and swift, and of a silken sound. 
 
 Ctttte. _ Young. 
 'THE bell strikes one. We take no note of Time, 
 
 But from its loss. To give it then a tongue, 
 Is wise in man. As if an Angel spoke, 
 I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, 
 It is the knell of my departed hours : 
 Where are they ? With the Years beyond the Flood 
 It is the signal that demands dispatch : 
 How much is to be done ! 
 
 Ctttie* — Cicero. 
 'TIME destroys the speculations of Man, but it confirms the judg 
 ment of Nature. 
 
 Cittie, — Shakspeare. 
 Time is the old Justice, that examines all offenders. 
 
 Ctme.— Lavater. 
 The great rule of moral conduct is, next to God, to respect Time 
 
 Ctttte. — Shakspeare. 
 What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks 
 The formless ruin of Oblivion. 
 
 Ctltte. — Shakspeare. 
 HTIME travels in divers paces with divers persons : I'll tell you 
 who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time 
 gallops withal, and who he stands still withal. He trots hard with 
 a young maid, between the contract of her Marriage and the day 
 it is solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, Time's pace is 
 so hard, that it seems the length of seven years. — He ambles with 
 a Priest that lacks Latin, and a Rich Man that hath not the Gout; 
 for the one sleeps easily, because he cannot study ; and the other 
 lives merrily, because he feels no pain : the one lacking the burden 
 of lean and wasteful learning; the other knowing no burden of 
 heavy tedious penury : These time ambles withal. — He gallops with 
 a Thief to the gallows : for though he go as softly as foot can fall, 
 he thinks himself too soon there. — He stays still with Lawyers in 
 the vacation ; for they sleep between term and term, and then they 
 perceive not how Time moves. 
 
 Qlixnt. — Young. 
 VOUTH is not rich in Time, it may be poor ; 
 Part with it as with Money, sparing; pay 
 No moment, but in purchase of its worth; 
 And what it's worth, ask Death-beds ; they can tell. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 505 
 
 Chile. — Shahspeare. 
 
 It is ten o'clock : 
 Thus may we see, how the world wags : 
 'Tis but an hour ago, since it was Nine ; 
 And after an hour more, 'twill be Eleven; 
 And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 
 And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, 
 And thereby hangs a Tale. 
 
 Ctme. — Steele. 
 TT is notorious to Philosophers, that Joy and Grief can hasten 
 and delay Time. Locke is of opinion, that a man in great 
 Misery may so far lose his measure, as to think a Minute an Hour; 
 or in Joy make an Hour a Minute. 
 
 Ctme.— Byron. 
 "WHERE is the World," cries Young, at eighty? "Where 
 
 The World in which a man was born I" Alas ! 
 Where is the World of eight years past ? 'Twas there — 
 
 I look for it — 'tis gone, a Globe of glass ! 
 Crack'd, shiver'd, vanish'd, scarcely gazed on ere 
 
 A silent change dissolves the glittering mass. 
 Statesmen, Chiefs, Orators, Queens, Patriots, Kings, 
 And Dandies, all are gone on the wind's wings. 
 
 Chile. — Seneca. 
 T'HE velocity with which Time flies is infinite, as is most apparent 
 to those who look back. 
 
 &imt.— Blair. 
 
 Time hurries on 
 With a resistless, unremitting Stream* 
 Yet treads more soft than e'er did midnight Thief, 
 That slides his hand under the Miser's pillow, 
 And carries off his Prize. 
 
 Chile. — Byron. 
 
 There is given 
 Unto the things of Earth, which time hath bent, 
 A spirit's feeling, and where he hath leant 
 His hand, but broke his Scythe, there is a power 
 And magic. 
 
 Chile. — Shahspeare. 
 J^IKE as the waves make toward the pebbled shore, 
 
 So do our Minutes hasten to their end ; 
 Each changing place with that which goes before : 
 In sequent Toil all forward do contend. 
 
.06 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Tis 
 
 CtmC — Dyer. 
 
 now the Raven's bleak abode ; 
 'Tis now the apartment of the Toad ; 
 And there the Fox securely feeds ; 
 And there the poisonous Adder breeds, 
 Conceal' d in ruins, moss, and weeds ; 
 While, ever and anon, there falls 
 Huge heaps of hoary moulder'd walls. 
 Yet Time has seen, which lifts the low, 
 And level lays the lofty brow, 
 Has seen the broken Pile complete, 
 Big with the Vanity of State ; 
 But transient is the smile of Fate ! 
 A little rule, a little sway, 
 A Sun-beam in a winter's day, 
 Is all the proud and mighty have 
 Between the Cradle and the Grave. 
 
 ^Limt. — Horace. 
 It flows, and it will flow uninterruptedly through every Age. 
 
 Cf)e fflirOttg f4me. — Zimmerman. 
 'THE Quarter of an Hour before Dinner is the worst suitors can 
 choose. 
 
 Ctttte. — ShaJcspeare. 
 J^[IS-SHAPEN Time, copesmate of ugly Night, 
 
 Swift subtle post, carrier of grisly Care ; 
 Eater of Youth, false slave to false delight, 
 
 Base watch of Woes, Sin's pack-horse, Virtue's snare ; 
 
 Thou nursest all, and murderest all, that are. 
 Time's glory is to calm contending Kings; 
 
 To unmask Falsehood, and bring Truth to light; 
 To stamp the seal of Time on aged things ; 
 
 To wake the Morn, and centinel the Night; 
 
 To wrong the Wronger, till he render Right ; 
 To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, 
 And smear with dust their glittering golden Towers : 
 
 To fill with worm-holes stately monuments ; 
 To feed Oblivion with decay of things ; 
 
 To blot old Books, and alter their contents ; 
 To pluck the quills from ancient raven's wings ; 
 To dry the old Oak's sap, and cherish springs ; 
 To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel, 
 And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel : 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 507 
 
 To show the beldame daughters of her daughter; 
 
 To make the child a man, the man a child ; 
 To slay the Tiger, that doth live by slaughter ; 
 
 To tame the Unicorn, and Lion wild ; 
 
 To mock the subtle, in themselves beguiled; 
 To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops, 
 And waste huge Stones with little Water-drops. 
 
 Why work'st thou Mischief in thy "pilgrimage, 
 Unless thou could' st return to make amends? 
 
 One poor retiring minute in an age, 
 Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends ; 
 Lending him Wit, that to bad debtors lends. 
 
 Ctme. — Mason. 
 As every thread of Gold is valuable, so is every minute of Time. 
 
 Cttlte. — Shakspeare. 
 Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, and Years, 
 Pass'd over to the end they were created, 
 Would bring white hairs unto a quiet Grave. 
 
 QLiWXt. — Franklin. 
 TF Time be of all things the most precious, wasting Time must be 
 the greatest prodigality, since lost Time is never found again ; 
 and what we call Time enough always proves little enough. Let 
 us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; so by diligence 
 shall we do more with less perplexity. Sloth makes all things diffi- 
 cult, but Industry all easy; and he that riseth late must trot all 
 day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night ; while Laziness 
 travels so slowly, that Poverty soon overtakes him. Drive thy busi- 
 ness, let not that drive thee ; and early to bed, and early to rise, 
 makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. 
 
 {EnmttJttp, — Shakspeare. 
 CtO, prick thy Face, and over-red thy Fear, 
 ^ Thou lily-liver'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch ? 
 Death of thy Soul ! Those linen cheeks of thine 
 Are counsellors to Fear. 
 
 &f)e 2Ttteo icptrit— Joanna Baillie. 
 "pULL many a Storm on this gray head has beat; 
 
 And now, on my high station do I stand, 
 Like the tired Watchman in his air-rock' d tower, 
 Who looketh for the hour of his Release. 
 I'm sick of worldly broils, and fain would rest 
 With those who war no more 
 
508 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 
 Cities. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 PJIGH Titles debase, instead of elevating, those who know not 
 how to support them. 
 
 Cofcacco,— Tom. 
 
 A LL experienced people will tell you that the habit of using 
 Tobacco in any shape will soon render you emsfciated and 
 consumptive, your Nerves shattered, your spirits low and moody, 
 your Throat dry and demanding stimulating drinks. 
 
 l&eltgtous Coletattcm. — story. 
 
 'THERE is not a truth to be gathered from history more certain, 
 or more momentous, than this : that civil liberty cannot long be 
 separated from religious liberty without danger, and ultimately with- 
 out destruction to both. Wherever religious liberty exists, it will, 
 tirst or last, bring in and establish political liberty. Wherever it is 
 suppressed, the church establishment will, first or last, become the 
 engine of despotism, and overthrow, unless it be itself overthrown, 
 every vestige of political right. How it is possible to imagine that 
 a religion breathing the spirit of mercy and benevolence, teaching 
 the forgiveness of injuries, the exercise of charity, and the return 
 of good for evil ) how it is possible, I say, for such a religion to be 
 so perverted as to breathe the spirit of slaughter and persecution, 
 of discord and vengeance, for differences of opinion, is a most unac- 
 countable and extraordinary moral phenomenon. Still more ex- 
 traordinary, that it should be the doctrine, not of base and wicked 
 men merely, seeking to cover up their own misdeeds, but of good 
 men, seeking the way of salvation with uprightness of heart and 
 purpose. It affords a melancholy proof of the infirmity of human 
 judgment, and teaches a lesson of humility from which spiritual 
 pride may learn meekness, and spiritual zeal a moderating wisdom 
 
 Cc^morroto. — Cotton. 
 
 To-morrow, didst thou say ? 
 Methought I heard Horatio say, To-Morrow ! 
 Go to ; — I will not hear of it — To-morrow ! 
 'Tis a sharper who stakes his penury 
 Against thy plenty — who takes thy ready cash, 
 And pays thee nought but Wishes, Hopes, and Promises, 
 The currency of idiots. Injurious bankrupt, 
 That gulls the easy creditor ! To-morrow ! 
 It is a period nowhere to be found 
 In all the hoary registers of Time, 
 Unless perchance in the fool's calendar. 
 Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 509 
 
 With those that own it. No, my Horatio, 
 'Tis Fancy's child, and Folly is its father : 
 Wrought on such stuff as dreams are; and baseless 
 As the fantastic visions of the Evening. 
 
 Co^mO rm to.— Young. 
 TN human Hearts what bolder thought can rise, 
 
 Than man's presumption on To-morrow's dawn ? 
 Where is To-morrow ? In another world. 
 For numbers this is certain : the reverse 
 Is sure to none; and yet on this "perhaps," 
 This "peradventure," infamous for lies, 
 As on a rock of Adamant, we build 
 Our mountain Hopes ; spin out eternal schemes, 
 As we the Fatal Sisters could out-spin, 
 And, big with Life's futurities, expire. 
 
 Co^mOCroto. — Johnson. 
 Can that hoary Wisdom 
 Borne down with years, still doat upon To-morrow ? 
 That fatal Mistress of the young, the lazy, 
 The coward, and the fool, condernn'd to lose 
 An useless Life in wishing for To-morrow, 
 To gaze with longing eyes upon To-morrow, 
 Till interposing Death destroys the prospect ! 
 Strange ! that this general fraud from day to day 
 Should fill the world with wretches undetected. 
 The Soldier lab'ring thro' a winter's march, 
 Still sees To-morrow dress'd in robes of triumph; 
 Still to the Lover's long-expecting arms, 
 To-morrow brings the visionary bride ; 
 But thou, too old to bear another cheat, 
 Learn, that the Present Hour alone is Man's. 
 
 Self^Corment. — From the Latin. 
 \TOTHINGr more is wanting to render a man miserable, than that 
 he should fancy he is so. 
 
 Cranqutllttg. — Jean Paul. 
 HEN the Heart of man is serene and tranquil, he wants to 
 enjoy nothing but himself; every movement — even corporeal 
 movement — shakes the brimming Nectar cup too rudely. 
 
 labelling. — Lord Lyttelton. 
 "VTE other cares in other climes engage, 
 
 Cares that become my birth, and suit my age; 
 In various Knowledge to improve my youth, 
 And conquer Prejudice, worst foe to Truth; 
 
 W> 
 
510 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 By foreign arts, domestic faults to mend. 
 Enlarge my notions and my views extend ; 
 The useful science of the World to know, - 
 Which books can never teach, or pedants show. 
 
 Ctegpa&SL — Gieero. 
 
 T7VERY man should submit to his own Grievances, rather than 
 trespass on the conveniences or comforts of his Neighbour. 
 
 & CrouWcfi g&ixit.— Joanna Baillie. 
 C\ NIGrHT, when good men rest, and infants sleep ! 
 
 Thou art to me no season of Repose, 
 But a fear'd time of waking more intense, 
 Of Life more keen, of Misery more palpable. 
 
 CrUSttltg tO OtjetS. — Sir. W. Temple. 
 A MAN that only translates, shall never be a Poet; nor a Painter 
 that only copies; nor a Swimmer that swims always with 
 bladders : so people that trust wholly to others' Charity, and with- 
 out Industry of their own, will always be poor. 
 
 QlXUfy.— Greville. 
 r rHE mind's eye is perhaps no better fitted for the full radiance 
 of Truth, than is the body's for that of the Sun. 
 
 KtUtfj.— CoIton. 
 HPHE interests of Society often render it expedient not to utter 
 the whole Truth, the interests of Science never ; for in this field 
 we have much more to fear from the deficiency of Truth, than from 
 its abundance. 
 
 CtUtj). — Terence. 
 Obsequiousness begets friends ; Truth, hatred. 
 
 Crtttj).— Paley. 
 F HAVE seldom known any one who deserted Truth in trifles, 
 that could be trusted in matters of Importance. 
 
 dllt f) . — Johnson. 
 
 A CCUSTOM your children to a strict attention to Truth, even 
 
 in the most minute particulars. If a thing happened at one 
 
 window, and they, when relating it, say that it happened at another, 
 
 do not let it pass, but instantly check them : you do not know 
 
 where deviations from Truth will end. 
 
 CtUtj)- — Shaftesbury. 
 r FHE most natural beauty in the world is Honesty and moral 
 Truth. For all Beauty is Truth. True Features make the 
 beauty of a Face; and true proportions the beauty of Architecture : 
 us true Measures that of Harmony and Music. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 511 
 
 CtUt j. — From the Latin. 
 There is no doctrine so false as not to contain in it some Truth 
 
 ffttttf).— Phcedrus. 
 
 HPO believe is dangerous, to be unbelieving is equally so ; the 
 Truth therefore should be diligently sought after, lest that a 
 foolish opinion should lead you to pronounce an unsound judg- 
 ment 
 
 Cttltf) Goldsmith. 
 
 T LEARN several great Truths : as that it is impossible to see 
 into the ways of Futurity ; that Punishment always attends the 
 villain ; that Love is the fond soother of the human breast. 
 
 CtUtf). — Bacon. 
 (CERTAINLY it is Heaven upon Earth to have a man's mind 
 move in Charity, rest in Providence, and turn upon the poles 
 of Truth. 
 
 STttttlj.— Shakspeare. 
 'TRUTH'S a Dog that must to kennel j he must be whipp'd out, 
 when Lady, the brach, may stand by the fire and stink. 
 
 Crutf). — Locke. 
 'TRUTH, whether in or out of fashion, is the measure of Know- 
 ledge, and the business of the Understanding; whatsoever is 
 besides that, however authorized by consent, is nothing but Igno- 
 rance, or something worse. 
 
 ITnttJ*— Mackenzie. 
 
 TT is curious to observe how the nature of Truth may be changed 
 by the garb it wears; softened to the admonition of Friendship, 
 or soured into the severity of Reproof; yet this severity may be 
 useful to some tempers; it somewhat resembles a File, disagreeable 
 in its operations, but hard Metal may be the brighter for it. 
 
 HLxutf}. — South. 
 'THE Reason of things lies in a narrow compass, if the Mind could 
 at any time be so happy as to light upon it. Most of the writ- 
 ings and discourses in the world are but illustration and Rhetoric, 
 which signifies as much as nothing to a mind in pursuit after the 
 philosophical Truth of things. 
 
 CrUti). — Casaubon. 
 'JHE study of Truth is perpetually joined with the love of Virtue ; 
 for there's no Virtue which derives not its original from Truth ■ 
 as, on the contrary, there is no Vice which has not its beginning 
 from a Lie. Truth is the foundation of all knowledge, and the 
 cement of all society. 
 
 2T 
 
512 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 QLtufy. — CoUon. 
 'THE adorer of Truth is above all present things. Firm in the 
 midst of Temptation, and frank in the midst of Treachery, he 
 will be attacked by those who have prejudices, simply because he is 
 without them, decried as a bad bargain by all who want to purchase, 
 because he alone is not to be bought, and abused by all parties, be- 
 cause he is the advocate of none ; like the Dolphin, which is always 
 painted more crooked than a ram's horn, although every Naturalist 
 knows that it is the straightest Fish that swims. 
 
 WtVify.—MiUon. 
 
 'TRUTH is as impossible to be soiled by any outward touch, as the 
 Sunbeam ; though this ill hap wait on her nativity, that she 
 never comes into the world, but like a bastard, to the ignominy of 
 him that brought her forth ; till time, the midwife rather than the 
 mother of Truth, have washed and salted the infant, declared her 
 legitimate, and churched the father of his young Minerva, from the 
 needless causes of his purgation. 
 
 CtUt f). — ShaJcspeare. 
 r~)H, how much more doth Beauty beauteous seem, 
 By that sweet ornament which Truth doth give ! 
 The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye, 
 
 As the perfumed tincture of the Roses - ; 
 Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly, 
 
 When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; 
 But, for their Virtue only is their show, 
 
 They live unwoo'd, and uninspected fade; 
 Die to themselves ; sweet Roses do not so ; 
 
 Of their sweet Deaths are sweetest odours made. 
 
 CtUtj).— Cowper. 
 All Truth is precious, if not all divine, 
 And what dilates the pow'rs must needs refine. 
 
 CtUti). — Cotton. 
 'THE affairs of this world are kept together by what little Truth 
 and Integrity still remains amongst us ; and yet I much ques- 
 tion whether the absolute dominion of Truth would be compatible 
 with the existence of any society now existing upon the face of the 
 Earth. Pure Truth, like pure Gold, has been found unfit for cir- 
 culation, because men have discovered that it is far more convenient 
 to adulterate the Truth, than to refine themselves. They will not 
 advance their Minds to the Standard, therefore they lower ihe 
 Standard to their Minds. 
 
I?. T EIN G S NE W AND OLD. 5 13 
 
 STrUtf)*— -Ammian. 
 
 TRUTH is violated by Falsehood, and it may be equally outrages 
 by Silence. 
 
 Criltf). — Murphy. 
 None but Cowards lie. 
 
 CtUtf).— Shakspeare. 
 If circumstances lead me, I will find 
 Where Truth is hid, though it were hid indeed 
 Within the Centre. 
 
 CtUtt). — Seneca. 
 The expression of Truth is Simplicity. 
 
 STrUtf). — Cowper. 
 
 Much learned dust 
 Involves the combatants, each claiming Truth, 
 And Truth disclaiming both. And thus they spend 
 The little wick of Life's poor shallow lamp, 
 In playing tricks with Nature, giving laws 
 To distant worlds, and trifling in their own. 
 
 3TtUti). — Shakspeare. 
 Truth needs no colour, with his colour fix'd ; 
 Beauty no pencil, Beauty's Truth to lay ; 
 But best is best, if never intermix'd. 
 
 CtUtj). — Colton. 
 'TRUTH is the object of Reason, and this is one; Beauty is the 
 object of Taste, and this is multiform. 
 
 CtUtt). — Tacitus. 
 TRUTH is established by investigation and delay; Falsehood 
 prospers by precipitancy. 
 
 ^TtUtf). — Ammian. 
 Truth is simple, requiring neither Study nor Art. 
 
 Ctlltfj. — Colton. 
 
 TRUTH can hardly be expected to adapt herself to the crooked 
 policy and wily sinuosities of worldly affairs ; for Truth, like 
 light, travels only in straight lines. 
 
 Crutf). — From the Latin. 
 TRUTH, by whomsoever spoken, comes from Grod. It is, iD 
 short, a divine essence. 
 
 &nitf). — Fro m the French. 
 THE adherence to Truth does not produce so much good in the 
 world, as the appearances of it do mischief. 
 
514 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Crutf).— Milton. 
 TRUTH came once into the world with her Divine Master, and 
 was a perfect shape most glorious to look on : but when he 
 ascended, and his Apostles after him were laid asleep, then straight 
 arose a wicked race of deceivers, who, as that story goes of the 
 Egyptian Typhon with his conspirators, how they dealt with the 
 good Osiris, took the virgin Truth, hewed her lovely form into a 
 thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. From that 
 time ever since, the sad friends of Truth, such as durst appear, imi- 
 tating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body of 
 Osiris, went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as they 
 could find them. We have not yet found them all, nor ever shall 
 do, till her Master's second coming; he shall bring together every 
 joint and member, and shall mould them into an immortal feature 
 of Loveliness and Perfection. 
 
 Cuttf).— Cotton. 
 IF a man be sincerely wedded to Truth, he must make up his 
 mind to find her a portionless Virgin, and he must take her for 
 herself alone. The contract too, must be to love, cherish, and obey 
 her, not only until Death, but beyond it; for this is an union 
 that must survive not only Death, but Time, the conqueror of 
 Death. 
 
 CtUtt)* — From the Latin. 
 Truth fears nothing but Concealment. 
 
 CtUtf). — Steele. 
 
 THOUGH men may impose upon themselves what they please, 
 by their corrupt imaginations, Truth will ever keep its station ; 
 and as glory is nothing else but the shadow of Virtue, it will 
 certainly disappear at the departure of Virtue. 
 
 ^TrUtlj.— Anon. 
 IS there less of Sincerity in Nature during her gambols in spring, 
 than during the stiffness and harshness of her wintry gloom ? 
 Does not the bird's blithe caroling come from the Heart, quite as 
 much as the quadruped's monotonous cry ? And is it then alto- 
 gether impossible to take up one's abode with Truth, and to let 
 all sweet homely feelings grow about it and cluster around it, and 
 to smile upon it as on a kind father or mother, and to sport with it 
 and hold light and merry talk with it as with a loved brother or 
 sister, and to fondle it, and play with it as with a child ? No other- 
 wise did Socrates and Plato commune with Truth ; no otherwise 
 Cervantes and Shakspeare. This playfulness of truth is beauti- 
 fully represented by Landor, in the Conversation between Marcus 
 Cicero and his brother, in an allegory which has the voice and the 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 515 
 
 spirit of Plato. On the other hand, the outcries of those who ex- 
 claim against every sound more lively than a bray or a bleat, as 
 derogatory to Truth, are often prompted, not so much by their deep 
 feeling of the dignity of the Truth in question, as of the dignity of 
 the person by whom that Truth is maintained. It is our Vanity, 
 our Self-Conceit, that makes us so sore and irritable. To a grave 
 argument we may reply gravely, and fancy that we have the best 
 of it : but he who is too dull or too angry to smile, cannot answer 
 a smile, except by fretting and fuming. 
 
 &VUfy. — OoUon. 
 
 r FHE greatest friend of Truth is Time; her greatest enemy is 
 Prejudice; and her constant companion is Humility. 
 
 EtUtfj. — Colton. 
 THE temple of Truth is built indeed of stones of Crystal, but, in- 
 asmuch as men have been concerned in rearing it, it has been 
 consolidated by a cement composed of baser materials. It is deeply 
 to be lamented that Truth herself will attract little attention, and 
 less Esteem, until it be amalgamated with some particular party, 
 persuasion, or sect; unmixed and unadulterated, it too often proves 
 as unfit for currency, as pure Gold for circulation. Sir Walter Ra- 
 leigh has observed, that he who follows Truth too closely, must take 
 care that she does not strike out his teeth. 
 
 CtUtf). — South. 
 HPRUTH is a great stronghold, barred and fortified by God and 
 Nature; and Diligence is properly the Understanding's laying 
 siege to it ; so that, as in a kind of warfare, it must be perpetually 
 upon the watch, observing all the avenues and passes to it, and ac- 
 cordingly makes its approaches. Sometimes it thinks it gains a 
 point; and presently again it finds itself baffled and beaten off: yet 
 still it renews the onset, attacks the difficulty afresh, plants this 
 reasoning, and that argument, this consequence, and that distinc- 
 tion, like so many intellectual batteries, till at length, it forces a 
 way and passage into the obstinate enclosed Truth, that so long 
 withstood and defied all its assaults. 
 
 TtUtt). — Sir T.Broicn. 
 TgVERY man is not a proper champion for Truth, nor fit to take 
 up the gauntlet in the cause of Verity: many, from the igno- 
 rance of these maxims and an inconsiderate zeal unto Truth, have 
 too rashly charged the troops of Error, and remain as trophies unto 
 the Enemies of Truth : a man may be in as just possession of 
 Truth, as of a city, and yet be forced to surrender; 'tis therefore 
 far better to enjoy her with Peace, than to hazard her on a battle. 
 
 2t2 
 
516 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CtUtf). — Sir W. Temple. 
 T'RUTH will be uppermost, one time or other, like Cork, though 
 kept down in the water. 
 
 Crtltj). — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 JpTE that finds Truth, without loving her, is like a bat; which, 
 though it have eyes to discern that there is a Sun, yet hath so 
 evil eyes, that it cannot delight in the Sun. 
 
 CtUtf).— Cato. 
 jsjOME men are more beholden to their bitterest Enemies, than to 
 Friends who appear to be sweetness itself. The former fre- 
 quently tell the Truth, but the latter never. 
 
 Cttttf). — Stede. 
 
 TTUMAN nature is not so much depraved as to hinder us from re- 
 specting Goodness in others, though we ourselves want it. 
 This is the reason why we are so much charmed with the pretty 
 prattle of children, and even the expressions of Pleasure or uneasi- 
 ness in some of the brute creation. They are without Artifice or 
 Malice ; and we love Truth too well to resist the charms of Sin- 
 cerity. 
 
 Cttttj).— Cotton. 
 
 ~^"0 bad man ever wished that his Breast was made of glass, or 
 that others could read his thoughts. But the misery is, that 
 the Duplicities, the Temptations, and the Infirmities that surround 
 us, have rendered the Truth, and nothing but the Truth, as hazard- 
 ous and contraband a commodity as a Man can possibly deal in. 
 
 Cttltf)* — Drydm. 
 
 \\TE find but few historians of all ages, who have been diligent 
 enough in their search for truth ; it is their common method 
 to take on trust what they distribute to the public; by which means 
 a Falsehood once received from a famed writer becomes traditional 
 to Posterity. 
 
 CrUlj. — Bare. 
 
 TT is a mistake to suppose the Poet does not know Truth by sight 
 quite as well as the Philosopher. He must; for he is ever see- 
 ing her in the mirrors of Nature. The difference between them is, 
 that the Poet is satisfied with worshipping her reflected image, 
 while the Philosopher traces her out -and follows her to her remote 
 abode between Cause and Consequence, and there impregnates her. 
 The one loves and makes love to Truth ; the other esteems and 
 weda her. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 517 
 
 Sel^CgCannj). — Shakspeare. 
 T CANNOT tell, what you and other men 
 
 Think of this life ; but, for my single self, 
 I had as lief not be, as live to be 
 In awe of such a thing as I myself. 
 
 Cpranng.— Milton. 
 
 So spake the Fiend, and with Necessity, 
 The Tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
 
 Cpranitg. — Skahspeare. 
 
 AT some time, when his' soaring Insolence 
 
 Shall reach the people, (which time shall not want, 
 If he be put upon't; and that's as easy, 
 As to set Dogs on shejp,) will be the Fire 
 To kindle their dry stubble ; and their Blaze 
 Shall darken him for ever. 
 
 Cptaimjj.— Claudian. 
 He who strikes Terror into others, is himself in continual fear. 
 
 2Tf)e £h\r\atUXal — S/mkspcare. 
 THAT Nature which contemns its origin, 
 
 Cannot be border'd certain in itself; 
 She, that herself will sliver and disbranch 
 From her material sap, perforce must wither, 
 And come to deadly use. 
 
 Cije £JnSeen. — From the Latin. 
 Every thing unknown to us, we suppose to be magnificent. 
 
 £tnfjappmc0S. — Milton. 
 
 JQID I request thee, Maker, from my clay 
 To mould me man ? Did I solicit thee 
 From darkness to promote me, or here place 
 In this delicious Garden ? As my will 
 Concurr'd not to my being, it were but right 
 And equal to reduce me to my Dust, 
 Desirous to resign and render back 
 All I received, unable to perform 
 Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 
 The Good I sought not. 
 
 QLntQnmamntnz. — siiakspeare. 
 
 He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, 
 Let him not kn^w it, and he's not robb'd at all. 
 
618 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; . 
 
 2att0teatritte£0. — Shakspeare. 
 
 perilous mouths, 
 That bear in them one and the selfsame tongue, 
 Either of Condemnation or Approof ! 
 Bidding the Law make curt'sy to their will; 
 Hooking both right and wrong to th' Appetite, 
 To follow as it draws ! 
 
 W$Z Wlmxn. — Fuller. 
 Cj-0 not to a covetous old Man with any Request too soon in 
 the Morning, before he hath taken in that day's Prey : for 
 his Covetousness is up before him, and he before thee, and he is 
 in 111 humour : but stay till the Afternoon, till he be satiated upon 
 some Borrower. 
 
 Cf)e ^SUrpet. — Shakspeare. 
 J^ SCEPTRE, snatch'd with an unruly Hand, 
 
 Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd ; 
 And he that stands upon a slippery place, 
 Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. 
 
 'fcJatUtg.— Anon. 
 T>RIDE and Vanity are for ever spoken of side by side; and 
 many suppose that they are merely different shades of the 
 same feeling. Yet, so far are they from being akin, they can 
 hardly find room in the same breast. A Proud Man will not stoop 
 to be vain ; a Vain Man is so busy in bowing and wriggling to catch 
 fair words from others, that he can never lift up his head into 
 Pride. 
 
 Vanity. — Coiton. 
 
 1" ADIES of Fashion starve their Happiness to feed their Vanity, 
 and their Love to feed their Pride. 
 
 Vanity.— Pope. 
 
 T7VERY man has just as much Vanity as he wants Understand- 
 ing. 
 
 Vanity* — Coiton. 
 
 TF you cannot inspire a woman with Love of you, fill her above 
 the brim with Love of herself; — all that runs over will be 
 yours. 
 
 Vanity. — Greviiu. 
 
 ^ANITY is the Poison of agreeableness ; yet as Poison, when 
 artfully and properly applied, has a salutary effect in medicine, 
 so has Vanity in the commerce and society of the World. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 519 
 
 Vanity.— Anon. 
 'THERE are persons who would lie prostrate on the ground, if 
 their Vanity or their Pride did not hold them up. 
 
 Vanity. — La Bochefoucauld. 
 T7VERY person complains of the badness of his Memory, but 
 none of their defective Judgment. 
 
 Vanity. — Anon. 
 T>RIDE in former ages may have been held in too good repute ; 
 Vanity is so now. Pride, which is the fault of greatness and 
 strength, is sneered at and abhorred : to Vanity, the froth and 
 consummation of weakness, every indulgence is shown. For Pride 
 stands aloof by itself; and that we are too mob-like to bear: 
 Vanity is unable to stand, except by leaning on others, and is care- 
 ful therefore of giving offence ; nay, is ready to fawn on those by 
 whom it hopes to be fed. 
 
 Vanity. — La Brw/ere. 
 AN Egotist will always speak of himself, either in Praise or in 
 Censure : but a modest man ever shuns making himself the 
 subject of his Conversation. 
 
 Vanity. — Swift. 
 
 GOME men make a Vanity of telling their faults; they are the 
 strangest men in the World ; they cannot dissemble ; they own 
 it is a folly ; they have los^ abundance of advantages by it ; but if 
 you would give them the World, they cannot help it; there is 
 something in their nature which abhors Insincerity and Constraint; 
 with many other insufferable topics of the same alcitude. 
 
 Vanity. — Anon. 
 HTIIEY who do speak ill of themselves, do so mostly as the surest 
 way of proving how modest and candid they are. 
 
 Vanity. — Sterne. 
 yANITY bids all her Sons be brave, and all her Daughters 
 chaste and courteous. But why do we need her instructions 'i 
 Ask the comedian who is taught a part which he does not feel. 
 
 Vtn^tantt. —Bonaparte. 
 Vengeance has no Foresight. 
 
 ITeruOSttp. — Shakspeare. 
 JE draweth out the thread of his Verbosity finer than the staple 
 of his argument. I abhor such fanatical fantasms, such inso- 
 ciable and point-device companions, such Rackers of Orthography 
 
520 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ViCt, — Byron. 
 ^HINK'ST thou there is no tyranny but that 
 
 Of Blood and Chains ? The despotism of Vice — 
 The weakness and the wickedness of Luxury — 
 The negligence — the apathy — the evils 
 Of sensual Sloth — produce ten thousand tyrants, 
 Whose delegated cruelty surpasses 
 The worst acts of one energetic master, 
 However harsh and hard in his own bearing. 
 
 Vitt. — Colton. 
 "T-TE that has energy enough in his constitution to root out a Vice, 
 should go a little farther, and try to plant in a Virtue in its 
 place, otherwise he will have his labour to renew ; a strong soil that 
 has produced Weeds, may be made to produce Wheat, with far less 
 difficulty than it would cost to make it produce Nothing. 
 
 Vitt* — Pope. 
 TTECE is a monster of so frightful mien, 
 As to be hated needs but to be seen ; 
 Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 
 
 Vitt* — Shakspeare. 
 Vice repeated, is like the wand'ring Wind, 
 Blows Dust in others' eyes. 
 
 V tee.— Byron. 
 T^ICE cannot fix, and Virtue cannot change. 
 
 The once fall'n woman must for ever fall ; 
 For Vice must have variety, while Virtue 
 Stands like the Sun, and all which rolls around 
 Drinks Life, and Light, and Glory from her aspect. 
 
 Vitt* — La Rochefoucauld. 
 \\TE do not despise all those who have Vices, but we despise all 
 those who have not a single Virtue. 
 
 Vitt* — Colton. 
 \TICE stings us, even in our pleasures, but Virtue consoles us, 
 even in our pains. 
 
 Vitt* — Juvenal. 
 No man ever arrived suddenly at the summit of Vice. 
 
 Vitt* — Colton. 
 r rHE horrible catastrophes that sometimes happen to the Vicious 
 are as salutary to others by their warning, as the most brilliant 
 rewards of the Virtuous are by their example. 
 
OR, THING S NEW AND OLD. 521 
 
 Vitt. — Sir P. Sidney. 
 TN actions of Life, who seeth not the filthiness of Evil, wanteth a 
 great foil to perceive the beauty of Virtue. 
 
 VUe. — Colton. 
 'THE Good make a better bargain, and the Bad a worse, than is 
 usually supposed ; for the rewards of the one, and the punish- 
 ments of the other, not unfrequently begin on this side of the 
 grave ; for Vice has more martyrs than Virtue ; and it often hap- 
 pens that men suffer more to be lost than to be saved. 
 
 ViCt. — Shakspeare. 
 T)UT when we in our Viciousness grow hard, 
 
 (Oh misery on't) the wise Gods seal our eyes ; 
 In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us 
 Adore our errors ; laugh at us while we strut 
 To our Confusion. 
 
 ViCt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 IT may be said that the Vices await us in the Journey of Life 
 like hosts with whom we must successively lodge; and I doubt 
 whether experience would make us avoid them if we were to travel 
 the same road a second time. 
 
 V\Ct. — Burke. 
 VIRTUE will catch as well as Vice by contact; and the public 
 stock of honest, manly principle will daily accumulate. We 
 are not too nicely to scrutinize motives as long as action is irre- 
 proachable. It is enough (and for a worthy man perhaps too 
 much) to deal out its Infamy to convicted Guilt and declared Apos- 
 tasy. 
 
 ViCt. - Colton. 
 Y\rHEN Mandeville maintained that Private Vices were Public 
 Benefits, he did not calculate the widely destructive influence 
 of bad example. To affirm that a vicious man is only his own 
 Enemy, is about as wise as to affirm that a virtuous man is only his 
 own Friend. 
 
 ViCt. — Shenstone. 
 YTIRTUE seems to be nothing more than a motion consonant to 
 the system of things ; were a Planet to fly from its orbit, it 
 would represent a Vicious Man. 
 
 ViCt. — Colton. 
 'J'HE Martyrs to Vice far exceed the Martyrs to Virtue, both in 
 endurance and in number. So blinded are we by our passions, 
 that we suffer more to be damned than to be saved. 
 
522 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Vitt, — Colton. 
 TN all civilized communities, there must of necessity exist a small 
 portion of Society, who are in a great measure independent of 
 public opinion. How then is this seeming advantage balanced in 
 the great account? These privileged individuals, surrounded by 
 Parasites, Sycophants, and Deceivers, too often become the willing 
 victims of Self-Delusion, Flattery, or Design. Such persons com- 
 mence by being their own masters, and finish by being their own 
 slaves, the automata of Passion, the Heliogaboli of Excess, and the 
 Martyrs of Disease. Undelighted amidst all delight, and joyless 
 amidst all enjoyment, yet sateless in the very lap of satiety, they 
 eventually receive the full measure of the punishment of their 
 Polly, their Profligacy, or their Vice ; nay, they often suffer more 
 than other men, not because they are as amenable as their inferiors, 
 but because they go greater lengths. Experience speaks to such in 
 vain, and they sink deeper in the Abyss, in precise proportion to 
 the height from which they have plunged. 
 
 Vitt. — Tucker. 
 'THE allurements of Fancy prove the first source of wantonness, 
 of unlucky and mischievous tricks in the earliest years, and in 
 the riper often produce more troublesome effects ; for a flow of 
 Prosperity with continual indulgence of the desires, commonly 
 makes men capricious, selfish, narrow-minded, intractable, contemp- 
 tuous, and overbearing, until some galling Disappointment or mis- 
 fortune has taught them, that there are other objects necessary to 
 be thought of, besides that of pleasing themselves. 
 
 Vitt, — Colton. 
 A SOCIETY composed of none but the Wicked, could not exist ; 
 it contains within itself the seeds of its own Destruction, and, 
 without a flood, would be swept away from the Earth by the deluge 
 of its own Iniquity. The moral cement of all society is Virtue ; it 
 unites and preserves, while Vice separates and destroys. The good 
 may well be termed the Salt of the Earth. For where there is no 
 integrity, there can be no confidence j and where there is no confi- 
 dence, there can be no unanimity. 
 
 "fcJtCC. — Shakspeare. 
 One sin another doth provoke. 
 
 VUt, — Pope. 
 But when to Mischief mortals bend their will, 
 How soon they find fit instruments of 111 ! 
 
 VUt, — Anon. 
 "VTANY a man's Vices have at first been nothing worse than 
 Good Qualities run wild. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 523 
 
 Vice. — Colton. 
 THREAT examples to Virtue, or to Vice, are not so productive of 
 imitation as might at first sight be supposed. The fact is, there 
 are hundreds that want Energy, for one that wants Ambition, and 
 Sloth has prevented as many Vices in some minds, as Virtues in 
 others. Idleness is the grand Pacific Ocean of life, and in that 
 stagnant Abyss, the most salutary things produce no good, the most 
 noxious no evil. Vice indeed, abstractedly considered, may be, 
 and often is, engendered in Idleness, but the moment it becomes 
 efficiently Vice, it must quit its cradle and cease to be idle. 
 
 VtCe. — Byron. 
 Not all that Heralds rake from coffiu'd clay, 
 Nor florid Prose, nor honied lies of Rhyme, 
 Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a Crime. 
 
 Vice. — Seneca. 
 "VITHY is there no man who confesses his Vices ? It is because 
 he has not yet laid them aside. It is a waking man only who 
 can tell his dreams. 
 
 "fcJtgt lattCe. —From the Latin. 
 The Master's eye makes the Horse fat. 
 
 Uillany. — Colton. 
 
 ^yiLLANY that is vigilant, will be an overmatch for Virtue, if 
 she slumber on her post ; and hence it is that a bad cause has 
 often triumphed over a good one,- for the Partisans of the former, 
 knowing that their cause will do nothing for them, have done every 
 thing for their Cause ; whereas, the friends of the latter are too 
 apt to expect every thing from their Cause, and to do nothing for 
 themselves. 
 
 UtrtUe. — Shakspeare. 
 A Heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 
 
 Virtue. — Cowper. 
 The only amaranthine flow'r on earth 
 Is Virtue j the only lasting treasure, Truth. 
 
 Virtue Armstrong. 
 
 ^TIRTUE, (for mere good-nature is a fool,) 
 
 Is sense and spirit with Humanity : 
 'Tis sometimes angry, and its frown confounds; 
 'Tis even vindictive, but in Vengeance just. 
 Knaves fain would laugh at it ; some great ones dare ; 
 But at his Heart the most undaunted son 
 Of Fortune dreads its name and awful charms. 
 2U 
 
624 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 FtrtUe. — Shakspeare. 
 TTOW far that little Candle throws his beams ! 
 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 
 Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our Virtues 
 Did not go forth of us, ; twere all alike 
 As if we had them not. 
 
 UittVLt. — Thomson, 
 J>ELIEVE the muse, the wintry blast of Death 
 
 Kills not the buds of Virtue ; no, they spread, 
 Beneath the heavenly beams of brighter Suns, 
 Thro' endless ages, into higher powers. 
 
 Vittnt. — Young. 
 His hand the Good Man fastens on the skies, 
 And bids Earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 
 
 UtttUe. — Dryden. 
 
 A settled Virtue, 
 Makes itself a Judge ; and satisfied within, 
 Smiles at that common enemy, the World. 
 
 Virtue. -Pope. 
 
 VITHAT nothing earthly gives, or can destroy, 
 
 The Soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy, 
 Is Virtue's prize : a better would you fix? 
 Then give Humility a coach and six, 
 Justice a conqueror's sword, or Truth a gown, 
 Or public Spirit its great cure, a crown. 
 Weak, foolish man ! will Heaven reward us there 
 With the same trash mad mortals wish for here ? 
 The boy and man an individual makes, 
 Yet sigh'st thou now for apples and for cakes ? 
 Go, like the Indian, in another life 
 Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife; 
 As well as dream such trifles are assign'd 
 As toys and empires, for a godlike mind ; 
 Rewards, that either would to Virtue bring 
 No Joy, or be destructive of the thing. 
 
 Virtue.— Pope. 
 
 T>UT sometimes Virtue starves, while Vice is fed ? 
 
 What then ? Is the reward of Virtue bread ; 
 That, Vice may merit — 'tis the price of toil ; * 
 The knave deserves it, when he tills the soil ; 
 The knave deserves it, when he tempts the main, 
 Where folly fights for Kings, or dives for gain. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AND OLD. 525 
 
 The good man may be weak, be indolent, 
 
 Nor is his claim to plenty, but content. 
 
 But grant him Riches, your demand is o'er ? 
 
 No — shall the good want Health, the good want Power ? 
 
 Add Health and Power, and every earthly thing, 
 
 Why bounded power ? why private ? why no King ? 
 
 Nay, why external for internal given ? 
 
 Why is not man a God, and earth a Heaven? 
 
 Who asK and reason thus, will scarce conceive 
 
 God gives enough, while he has more to give; 
 
 Immense the power, immense were the demand ; 
 
 Say, at what part of Nature will they stand ? 
 
 UiTtVLt. — TJwmson. 
 Virtue ! Virtue ! as thy joys excel, 
 So are thy woes transcendent ; the gross world 
 Knows not the Bliss or Misery of either. 
 
 FtttUe. — Young. 
 "yiRTLil, not rolling suns, the mind matures; 
 
 That Life is long, which answers Life's great end. 
 The time that bears no fruit, deserves no name ; 
 The Man of Wisdom is the man of Years. 
 
 UtrtUe. — Young. 
 A GOOD man, and an Angel ! these between ; 
 
 How thin the barrier! What divides their fate? 
 Perhaps a moment, or perhaps a year ; 
 Or, if an age, it is a moment still; 
 A moment, or Eternity's forgot. 
 
 VittUt. — Young. 
 'THE man who consecrates his hours 
 
 By vig'rous effort, and an honest aim, 
 At once he draws the sting of Life and Death ; 
 He walks with Nature; and her paths are Peace. 
 
 VittUt. — Miller. 
 
 Thou know'st but little, 
 If thou dost think true Virtue is confined 
 To climes or systems; no, it flows spontaneous, 
 Like Life's warm stream, throughout the whole Creation, 
 And beats the pulse of every healthful heart. 
 
 UiXiXLt. — Horace. 
 I ET the Wise Man be considered as a fool, the Just Man as un- 
 just, if his rigorous adherence even to Virtue herself carries 
 him beyond the proper bounds. 
 
f>26 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 V ICtUe. — Young. 
 Who does the best his circumstance allows, 
 Does well, acts nobly; Angels could no more. 
 
 Virtue. — Moore. 
 f PHE plain, good man, whose actions teach 
 
 More Virtue than a sect can preach, 
 Pursues his course, unsagely blest, 
 His tutor whisp'ring in his breast : 
 Nor could he act a purer part, 
 Though he had Tully all by heart; 
 And when he drops the tear on Wo, 
 He little knows, or cares to know, 
 That Epictetus blamed that tear, 
 By Heaven approved, to Virtue dear. 
 
 T^trtUe, — Shakspeare. 
 I held it ever, 
 Virtue and Knowledge were endowments greater 
 Than Nobleness and Riches : careless heirs 
 May the two latter darken and expend ; 
 But Immortality attends the former, 
 Making a man a Grod. 
 
 ~&ittUZ. — Cardinal Richelieu. 
 A VIRTUOUS and well-disposed person, like a good Metal, the 
 more he is fired, the more he is fined; the more he is opposed, 
 the more he is approved : Wrongs may well try him, and touch 
 him, but cannot imprint in him any false stamp. 
 
 HJittWZ. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "T/^ANITY, Shame, and above all, Temperament, are often the 
 causes of Courage in men, and of Virtue in women. 
 
 UiXtVLt. — Seneca. 
 VIRTUE, like Fire, turns all things into itself : our Actions and 
 our Friendships are tinctured with it, and whatever it touches 
 becomes amiable. 
 
 VtrtUC. — Shakspeare. 
 ~pROM lowest place when virtuous things proceed, 
 
 The place is dignified by the doer's deed : 
 Where great additions swell, and Virtue none, 
 It is a dropsied honour : Good alone 
 Is good, without a name ; Vileness is so : 
 The property by what it is should go, 
 Not by the Title. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 527 
 
 Y trtUC. — Shalspeare. 
 "\riRTUE, that transgresses, is but patched with Sin \ and Sin, 
 that amends, is but patched with Virtue. 
 
 VilXWt. — Grevffle. 
 
 /^)NE great reason why Virtue is so little practised, is its being so 
 ill understood. 
 
 Virtue. — Shakspeare. 
 Oh, let not Virtue seek 
 Remuneration for the thing it was ! 
 For Beauty, Wit, 
 
 High Birth, Vigour of Bone, Desert in Service, 
 Love, Friendship, Charity, are subjects all 
 To envious and calumniating Time. 
 
 ViKtVLt. — Shakspeare. 
 A LL places that the eye of Heaven visits, 
 Are to a wise man ports and happy havens : 
 Teach thy necessity to reason thus : 
 There is no Virtue like Necessity. 
 
 "fc7tttU0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 TT is with certain Good Qualities as with the Senses ; those who 
 are entirely deprived of them can neither appreciate nor com- 
 prehend them 
 
 UtttUe. — Grecille. 
 The best judges of Pleasure are the best judges of Virtue. 
 
 UilXUZ. — Colton. 
 T'HERE are two things which speak as with a voice from heaven, 
 that He that fills that eternal throne must be on the side of 
 Virtue, and that which He befriends must finally prosper and pre- 
 vail. The first is, that the Bad are never completely happy and 
 at ease, although possessed of every thing that this World can 
 bestow ; and that the Good are never completely miserable, al- 
 though deprived of every thing that this World can take away. 
 We are so framed and constituted, that the most vicious cannot 
 but pay a secret though unwilling homage to Virtue, inasmuch 
 as the worst men cannot bring themselves thoroughly to esteem a 
 bad man, although he may be their dearest Friend, nor can they 
 thoroughly despise a good man, although he may be their bitter- 
 est Enemy. From this inward esteem for Virtue, which the 
 noblest cherish, and which the basest cannot expel, it follows 
 that Virtue is the only bond of union on which we can thoroughly 
 depend. 
 
 2 u 2 
 
fc>8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 lyittUt. — Sir P. Sidney. 
 r V0 be ambitious of true Honour, of the true Glory and Perfec- 
 tion of our natures, is the very principle and incentive of 
 Virtue j but to be ambitious of titles, of place, of ceremonial 
 respects and civil pageantry, is as vain and little as the things are 
 which we court. 
 
 Virtue. — St. Evremond. 
 V r IRTUE I love, without austerity ; Pleasure without effeminacy; 
 and Life without fearing its end. 
 
 UittUt. — Cotton. 
 'THERE is but one pursuit in Life which it is in the power of all 
 to follow, and of all to attain. It is subject to no Disappoint- 
 ments, since he that perseveres makes every Difficulty an advance- 
 ment, and every contest a Victory : and this is the pursuit of Virtue. 
 
 l^trtUe. — SJtakspeare. 
 TN nature there's no blemish, but the Mind; 
 
 None can be call'd deform'd, but the unkind : 
 Virtue is Beauty ; but the Beauteous-evil 
 Are empty trunks, o'erflourish'd by the Devil. 
 
 UtrtUe. — Seneca. 
 "VTO man is born wise; but Wisdom and Virtue require a tutor; 
 though we can easily learn to be vicious without a master. 
 
 "fc7tttUe. — Shakspeare. 
 Sundry blessings hang about his Throne, 
 That speak him full of Grace. 
 
 17 tttUe. — Massinger. 
 T>RINCES can never more make known their Wisdom 
 
 Than when they cherish Goodness where they find it; 
 They being Men, not Gods, 
 They can give wealth and titles, but no Virtue ; 
 That is without their power. 
 
 "UittVLZ. — Shakspeare. 
 When once our Grace we have forgot, 
 Nothing goes right. 
 
 Virtue. — South. 
 
 V\TERE there but one Virtuous Man in the world, he would hold 
 up his head with Confidence and Honour; he would shame 
 the world, and not the world him. 
 
 ViXtm. — Socrates. 
 A HORSE is not known by his furniture, but qualities; so men 
 are to be esteemed for Virtue, not Wealth. 
 
OR, THIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 529 
 
 "fcJtttUC. — Cicero. 
 "\"0 man should be so much taken up in the search of Truth, as 
 thereby to neglect the more necessary duties of active life; for 
 after all is done, it is action only that gives a true Value and com- 
 mendation to Virtue. 
 
 *fc7tttue. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A truly virtuous man is he who prides himself upon nothing. 
 
 "fcJtttllC. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 T>ERFECT Virtue is to do unwitnessed what we should be capa- 
 ble of doing before all the world. 
 
 Cf)e Volatile. — Shenstone. 
 "PXTREME volatile and sprightly tempers seem inconsistent 
 with any great Enjoyment. There is too much time wasted 
 in the mere transition from one object to another. No room for 
 those deep impressions, which are made alone by the duration of 
 an Idea, and are quite requisite to any strong sensation, either of 
 pleasure or of pain. The Bee to collect honey, )v the Spider to 
 gather poison, must abide some time upon the weed or flower. 
 They whose fluids are mere Sal Volatile, seem rather cheerful than 
 happy men. The temper above described is oftener the lot of 
 Wits, than of persons of great Abilities. 
 
 UotoS. — Fuller. 
 AT AKE no Vows to perform this or that : it shows no great 
 Strength, and makes thee ride behind thyself. 
 
 WHHmt*. — Johnson. 
 TITHERE Necessity ends, Curiosity begins; and no sooner are 
 we supplied with every thing that Nature can demand, than 
 we sit down to contrive artificial appetites. 
 
 TOiants.— Coiton. 
 
 \YTE are ruined, not by what we really want, but by what we 
 think we do; therefore never go abroad in search of your 
 wants ; if they be real wants, they will come home in search of you ; 
 foi he that buys what he does not want, will soon want what he 
 cannot buy. 
 
 (LHantS.— Anon. 
 [TOW few are our real Wants ! and how easy is it to satisfy 
 them ! Our imaginary ones are boundless and insatiable. 
 
 92ftattt£.— -Socrates. 
 
 The fewer our wants, the nearer we resemble fhe G-octe. 
 
 34 
 
m ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 QMaX. — St. Evremond. 
 TN "War, people judge, for the most part, by the Success, what- 
 ever is the opinion of the wiser sort. Let a man show all the 
 good conduct that is possible, if the Event does not answer, ill 
 fortune passes for a fault, and is justified but by a very few persons. 
 
 W&at.— Addison. 
 \ THOUSAND glorious Actions, that might claim 
 
 Triumphant laurels, and immortal Fame, 
 Confused in crowds of glorious actions lie, 
 And troops of Heroes undistinguish'd die. 
 
 (H^UeE. — Joanna Baillie. 
 War is honourable 
 In those who do their native rights maintain ; 
 In those whose Swords an iron barrier are 
 Between the lawless spoiler and the weak : 
 But is in those who draw th' offensive blade 
 For added power or gain, sordid and despicable 
 As meanest office of the worldly Churl. 
 
 W&LWC.— Shakspeare. 
 
 The Arms are fair, 
 When the intent of bearing them is just. 
 
 &2Ear. _ Thomson. 
 THJT what most show'd the Vanity of Life, 
 
 Was to behold the nations all on fire, 
 In cruel broils engaged and deadly strife ; 
 
 Most Christian Kings inflamed by black desire 1 
 
 With honourable ruffians in their hire, 
 Cause War to rage, and Blood around to pour ; 
 
 Of this sad work when each begins to tire, 
 They set them down just where they were before, 
 Till for new scenes of Wo Peace shall their force restore 
 
 Wlat. — Shakspeare. 
 Take heed, 
 How you awake our sleeping Sword of War; 
 We charge you in the name of God, take heed. 
 For never two such Kingdoms did contend 
 Without much fall of blood ; whose guiltless drops 
 Are every one a Wo, a sore complaint, 
 'Gainst him, whose wrong gives edge unto the swords, 
 That makes such waste in brief Mortality. 
 
 2i2Har, — ShaJcspeare. 
 A VICTORY is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full 
 numbers. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 531 
 
 £iLlai\ — Southern. 
 T)OST thou not know the fate of Soldiers? 
 
 They're but Ambition's tools, to cut a way 
 To her unlawful ends : and when they're worn, 
 Hack'd, hewn with constant Service, thrown aside, 
 To rust in Peace, and rot in Hospitals. 
 
 &2Rar. — Burke. 
 ATrAR suspends the rules of moral obligation, and what is long 
 suspended is in danger of being totally abrogated. Civil 
 Wars strike deepest of all into the manners of the people. They 
 vitiate their Politics ; they corrupt their Morals ; they pervert even 
 the natural taste and relish of Equity and Justice. By teaching us 
 to consider our fellow-creatures in au hostile light, the whole body 
 of our nation becomes gradually less dear to us. The very names 
 of Affection and Kindred, which were the bond of Charity whilst 
 we agreed, become new incentives to hatred and rage, when the 
 communion of our country is dissolved. 
 
 (L&l a t. — Sliakspeare. 
 
 Will you again unknit 
 This churlish knot of all-abhorred War, 
 And move in that obedient Orb again, 
 Where you did give a fair and natural light; 
 And be no more au exhaled meteor, 
 A Prodigy of Fear, and a portent 
 Of broached mischief, to the unborn times? 
 
 Ci)e priest WSSLaXXiOX. — Shakspeare. 
 
 It better show'd with you, 
 When that your flock, assembled by the Bell. 
 Encircled you, to hear with reverence 
 Your exposition on the Holy Text ; 
 Than now to see you here an iron man, 
 Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum, 
 Turning the Word to Sword, and Life to Death. 
 OiaStC — Franklin. 
 \yHAT maintains one Vice, would bring up two children. Re- 
 member, many a little makes a mickle j and farther, beware 
 of little expenses; a small Leak will sink a great Ship. 
 
 <LZAcaW). — Colton. 
 f T is far more easy to acquire a Fortune like a knave, than to ex- 
 pend it like a Gentleman. 
 
 lUUcaltij. — PropertiriH. 
 A LL men now contend for Gold, true Piety being banished from 
 the world. Wealth is now become the sole ground of claim to 
 respect or consideration among men. 
 
532 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <L<tiealti)* — La Bruyere. 
 A S Riches and Favour forsake a man, we discover him to be a 
 fool, but nobody could find it out in his Prosperity 
 
 WLtalfy.— Hare. 
 ^"OTHING- hides a blemish so completely as Cloth of Gold. 
 This is the first lesson that heirs and heiresses commonly learn. 
 Would that equal pains were taken to convince them, that the 
 having inherited a good Cover for blemishes does not entail any 
 absolute necessity of providing Blemishes for it to cover. 
 
 &2Uea!tf)- — Coiton. 
 
 f^J-ROSS and vulgar minds will always pay a higher respect to 
 Wealth than to Talent; for Wealth, although it be a far less 
 efficient source of power than Talent, happens to be far more in- 
 telligible. 
 
 Wlealtt). — Horace. 
 SOVEREIGN Money procures a Wife with a large fortune, gets 
 a man Credit, creates Friends, stands in the place of Pedigree, 
 and even of Beauty. 
 
 QSEtealtl.'— La Brut/ere. 
 T ET us not envy some men their accumulated Riches; their bur- 
 den would be too heavy for us ; we could not sacrifice, as they 
 do, Health, Quiet, Honour, and Conscience, to obtain them : it is 
 to pay so dear for them, that the bargain is a loss. 
 
 W&it&ltf). — Cotton, 
 
 TT is only when the Rich are sick, that they fully feel the impo- 
 tence of Wealth. 
 
 MJealtj). — La Bruyere. 
 
 THERE is nothing keeps longer than a middling Fortune, and 
 nothing melts away sooner than a great one. Poverty treads 
 
 upon the heels of great and unexpected Riches. 
 
 $211*alfS.— Cotton. 
 TN proportion as nations get more corrupt, more Disgrace will 
 attach to Poverty, and more Respect to Wealth. 
 
 S^ealti;— -Coiton. 
 
 'THE greatest and the most amiable privilege which the Rich en- 
 joy over the Poor, is that which they exercise the least — the 
 privilege of making them happy. 
 
 WLtaltl).— Butler. 
 TV/TEN venture necks to gain a Fortune : 
 
 The Soldier does it every day 
 (Eight to the week) for sixpence pay : 
 Your Pettifoggers damn their souls, 
 To share with knaves in cheating fools. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 533 
 
 9&Ualtj). — Shakspeare. 
 THHE aged man that coffers up his Gold, 
 
 Is plagued with cramps, and gouts, and painful fits ; 
 And scarce hath eyes his Treasure to behold, 
 
 But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, 
 
 And useless barns the Harvest of his wits; 
 Having no other pleasure of his gain, 
 But Torment that it cannot cure his pain. 
 
 So then he hath it, when he cannot use it, 
 And leaves it to be master'd by his young; 
 
 Who in their pride do presently abuse it; 
 Their Father was too weak, and they too strong, 
 To hold their cursed-bless'd Fortune long. 
 
 ft&tealti). — From the Latin. 
 'THE acquisition of Wealth is a work of great Labour : its pos. 
 session, a source of continual Fear ; its loss, of excessive Grief 
 
 &2Healti) Johnson. 
 
 T>UT, scarce observed, the knowing and the bold 
 
 Fall in the gen'ral massacre of Gold ; 
 Wide wasting pest ! that rages unconfined, 
 And crowds with crimes the records of mankind : 
 For Gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws, 
 For Gold the hireling judge distorts the laws; 
 Wealth heap'd ou Wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, 
 The dangers gather as the treasures rise. 
 
 £<JUealtt). —Johnson. 
 THE needy Traveller, serene and gay, 
 
 Walks the wide heath, and sings his toil away. 
 Does Envy seize thee ? crush th' upbraiding Joy, 
 Increase his riches, and his peace destroy. 
 
 &2Healtf). — Crabbe. 
 T\TEALTH is substantial good the Fates allot : 
 
 We know we have it, or we have it not. 
 But all those graces, which men highly rate, 
 Their minds themselves imagine and create. 
 
 Mlealtf). — Johnson. 
 TyHOSOEVER shall look needfully upon those who are eminent 
 for their Riches, will not think their condition such as that he 
 should hazard his quiet, and much less his Virtue, to obtain it: for 
 all that great Wealth generally gives above a moderate fortune, is 
 more room for the freaks of Caprice, and more privilege for Igno- 
 rance and Vice, a quicker succession of Flatteries, and a larger cir- 
 cle of Voluptuousness. 
 
534 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Miealtf). — Spenser. 
 A LL otherwise (said he) I riches read, 
 
 Arid deeme them roote of all Disquietnesse : 
 First got with guile, and then preserved with dread; 
 And after spent with Pride and lavishnesse, 
 Leaving behind them Grief and heavinesse. 
 Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize ; 
 
 Strife and Debate, Bloodshed and Bitternesse, 
 Outrageous wrong, and hellish covetize 
 That noble hart in great Dishonour doth despize. 
 
 Mlealtf).— Young. 
 (~^AN wealth give Happiness ? look round, and see 
 
 What gay distress ! what splendid misery ! 
 Whatever Fortune lavishly can pour, 
 The mind annihilates, and calls for more. 
 
 raealtj- — Sir William Temple. 
 J EISURE and Solitude are the best effect of Riches, because 
 mother of Thought. Both are avoided by most rich men, who 
 seek Company and Business, which are signs of being weary of 
 themselves. 
 
 raiealtt). — Gay. 
 MOW gaudy Pride corrupts the lavish age, 
 
 And the streets flame with glaring equipage ; 
 The tricking Gamester insolently rides, 
 With loves and graces on his chariot sides ; 
 In saucy state the griping Broker sits, 
 And laughs at Honesty and trudging wits. 
 
 OTlealtf).— Johnson. 
 'TO purchase Heaven has gold the power ? 
 
 Can Gold remove the mortal hour ? 
 In life can Love be bought with gold ? 
 Are Friendship's pleasures to be sold ? 
 No — all that's worth a wish — a thought, 
 Fair Virtue gives unbribed, unbought. 
 Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, 
 Let nobler views engage thy mind. 
 
 Miealtf). — Shakspeare. 
 
 If thou art rich, thou art poor; 
 For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, 
 Thou bear'st thy heavy Riches but a journey, 
 And Death unloads thee. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 535 
 
 OEealtf).— Burton. 
 "YVTORLDLY Wealth is tbe Devil's Bait ; and those whose minds 
 feed upon Riches, recede, in general, from real Happiness, in 
 proportion as their stores increase j as the Moon when she is fullest 
 is furthest from the Sun. 
 
 ft&lealtf). — Horace. 
 \yHEN I caution you against becoming a Miser, I do not there- 
 fore advise you to become a Prodigal or a Spendthrift. 
 
 2Meepmg. — Byron. 
 CHE was a good deal shock'd ; not shock'd at Tears, 
 
 For Women shed and use them at their liking; 
 But there is something when Man's eye appears 
 Wet, still more disagreeable and striking. 
 
 MJealtf). — SAakspeare. 
 T)ESPAIR to gain doth traffic oft for gaining : 
 
 And when great Treasure is the meed proposed, 
 Though Death be adjunct, there's no Death supposed. 
 Those that much covet are of gain so fond, 
 
 That what they have not (that which they possess) 
 They scatter and unloose it from their bond, 
 
 And so by hoping more they have but less ; 
 
 Or gaining more the profit of Excess 
 Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, 
 That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain. 
 
 The aim of all is but to nurse the Life 
 With Honour, Wealth, and Ease, in waning Age . 
 
 And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, 
 That one for all, or all for one, we gage : 
 As Life for Honour in fell battle's rage, 
 Honour for Wealth, and oft that Wealth doth cost 
 The Death of all, and altogether lost. 
 
 So that in venturing all, we leave to be 
 The things we are for that which we expect : 
 
 And this ambitious foul infirmity, 
 In having much, torments us with defect 
 Of that we have : so then we do neglect 
 The things we have, and all for want of Wit, 
 Make something nothing by augmenting it. 
 
 Ct)e WSJtiUomZ. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Sir, you are very welcome to our house : 
 It must appear in other ways than words, 
 Therefore I scant this breathing Courtesy. 
 2V 
 
16 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 C 
 
 S8Jf)S aittJ 13ccaUSe.— Lavater. 
 
 ALL him wise whose Actions, Words, and Steps are all a clear 
 because to a clear why. 
 
 Cf)e <£&lttluto.— Pope. 
 THUS day by day, and month by month we past; 
 
 It pleased the Lord to take my spouse at last. 
 I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust, 
 And beat my breasts, as wretched Widows must ; 
 Before, my face my Handkerchief I spread, 
 To hide the flood of Tears I did — not shed. 
 
 &f\Z MittiOuVS ttoO itftteS.— Webster. 
 
 Y\rHAT more tender, more solemnly affecting, more profoundly 
 pathetic, than this charity, this offering to God, of a farthing ! 
 We know nothing of her name, her family, or her tribe. We only 
 know that she was a poor Woman, and a Widow, of whom there is 
 nothing left upon record but this sublimely simple story, that when 
 the rich men came to cast their proud offerings into the treasury, 
 this poor Woman came also, and cast in her two Mites, which made a 
 farthing ! And that example, thus made the subject of divine com- 
 mendation, has been read, and told, and has gone abroad everywhere, 
 and sunk deep into a hundred million of hearts, since the com- 
 mencement of the Christian era, and has done more good than could 
 oe accomplished by a thousand marble palaces, because it was cha- 
 rity mingled with true benevolence, given in the fear, the love, the 
 service, and the honour of God; because it was charity, that had its 
 origin in religious feeling ; because it was a gift to the honour of 
 God! 
 
 €f)e <tmiU.— Milton. 
 
 For nothing lovelier can be found 
 In Woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her Husband to promote. 
 
 W§Z 2Mtfe. — Shakspeare. 
 
 My noble Father, 
 I do perceive here a divided duty ; 
 To you I am bound for Life and Education ; 
 My Life and Education both do learn me 
 How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty, 
 I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my Husband; 
 And so much duty as my mother show'd 
 To you, preferring you before her Father, 
 So much I challenge, that I may profess 
 Due to my Lord. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 537 
 
 2Ti)e <L<Htfe. — G. H Drummond. 
 ,r FIS not in Hymen's gay propitious hour, 
 
 With summer beams and genial breezes blest, 
 That Man a Consort's worth approveth best: 
 'Tis when the skies with gloomy Tempests lour, 
 When Cares and Sorrows all their torrents pour, 
 She clasps him closer to her hallow'd Breast, 
 Pillows his Head, and lays his Heart to rest ; 
 Drying her cheek from sympathetic shower. 
 
 QL\)Z <Lh\ift. — Pope. 
 CHE who ne'er answers till a Husband cools, 
 
 Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules; 
 Charms by accepting, by submitting sways, 
 Yet has her Humour most, when she obeys. 
 
 QLfyt ZMift- — Shakspeare. 
 
 Thou art alone, 
 If thy rare qualities, sweet Gentleness, 
 Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,- - 
 Obeying in commanding, — and thy parts, 
 Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, 
 The Queen of earthly Queens. 
 
 Ct)e MAifC — Milton. 
 
 What thou bid'st 
 Unargued I obey ; so God ordains ; 
 God is thy law ; thou mine : to know no more 
 Is Woman's happiest knowledge, and her Praise. 
 
 Ci)e ft&ltfe.— Hammond. 
 TOEAUTY and worth in her alike contend, 
 
 To charm the fancy, and to fix the mind ; 
 In her, my Wife, my Mistress, and my Friend, 
 I taste the joys of Sense and Reason join'd. 
 
 Cf)e <FMiti. — Milton. 
 Sole partner, and sole part, of all these Joys, 
 Dearer thyself than all. 
 
 Ef)e &£ltfe.— Prior. 
 QO, if for any sins of ours, 
 
 Or our forefathers' higher powers, 
 Severe, though just, afflict our Life 
 With that prime ill, a talking Wife; 
 Till Death shall bring the kind relief, 
 We must be patient, or be deaf. 
 
533 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Cije WiiU Byron. 
 
 Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's Wife, 
 He would have written Sonnets all his life ? 
 
 Cj)e ZMHt.— Milton. 
 Thy Likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
 Thy wish exactly to thy Heart's desire. 
 
 Cf)e WRiti.— Irving. 
 T HAVE often had occasion to remark the fortitude with which 
 Women sustain the most overwhelming reverses of fortune 
 Those disasters which break down the spirit of a man and prostrate 
 him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer 
 sex, and give such intrepidity and elevation to their character, that 
 at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be more touch- 
 ing than to behold a soft and tender female, who had been all weak- 
 ness and dependence, and alive to every trivial roughness while 
 treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in mental 
 force to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under mis- 
 fortune, and abiding with unshrinking firmness the bitterest blast 
 of adversity. 
 
 Cf)e WML — Skakspeare. 
 
 "yALUE dwells not in particular will ; 
 
 It holds its estimate and Dignity 
 As well wherein 'tis precious of itself, 
 As in the prizer : 'tis mad Idolatry, 
 To make the service greater than the God ; 
 And the Will dotes, that is inclinable 
 To what infectiously itself affects, 
 Without some Image of th' affected merit. 
 I take to-day a wife, and my election 
 Is led on in the conduct of my Will ; 
 My Will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, 
 Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores 
 Of Will and Judgment : how may I avoid 
 (Although my Will distaste which is elected) 
 The wife I chose ? there can be no evasion 
 To blench from this, and to stand firm by honour. 
 We turn not back the silks upon the Merchant, 
 When we have spoil'd them ; nor the remainder viands 
 We do not throw in unrespective place, 
 Because we now are full. 
 
 2H)e OMUL — Seneca. 
 
 AJO action will be considered as blameless, unless the Will was 
 so, for by the Will the Act was dictated. 
 
 / 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 539 
 
 <HfK ZMUL — Shakspeare. 
 He wants Wit, that wants resolved Will. 
 
 Cf)£ <LWMl. — Shakspeare. 
 
 OUR bodies are our gardens ; to the which our Wills are Gar- 
 deners; so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set 
 hyssop, and weed up thyme ; supply it with one gender of herbs, 
 or distract it with many ; either to have it sterile with Idleness, or 
 manured with Industry ; why, the power and corrigible authority 
 of this lies in our Wills. If the balance of our lives had not o~je 
 scale of Reason to poise another of Sensuality, the Blood and base- 
 ness of our Natures would conduct us to most preposterous conclu- 
 sions. 
 
 Ci)e OMUL — Fuller. 
 "PRESCRIBE no positive laws to thy Will : for thou mayest be 
 forced to-morrow to drink the same Water thou despisest to- 
 day. 
 
 Cf)* ftHtll. — Colton. 
 T'O commit the execution of a purpose to one who disapproves 
 of the plan of it, is to employ but one-third of the man; his 
 Heart and his Head are against you, you have commanded only 
 his Hands. 
 
 £f)£ 32StiL — Shakspeme. 
 
 The Will of man is by his Reason sway'd. 
 
 CJ)e SSlttL— Dryden. 
 
 T ET Fortune empty her whole quiver on me. 
 
 I have a Soul, that like an ample shield, 
 Can take in all, and verge enough for more ; 
 Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's : 
 Souls know no Conquerors. 
 
 ,-fFree ZWiill. — Milton. 
 
 (yOD made thee perfect, not immutable ; 
 
 And good he made thee, but to persevere 
 He left it in thy pow'r; ordained thy will 
 By nature free, not over-ruled by Fate 
 Inextricable, or strict Necessity. 
 
 jfm 82Ettl. —MUton. 
 
 Ingrate, he had of me 
 All he could have; I made him just and right, 
 Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
 Such I created all th' ethereal Powers 
 And Spirits, both them who stood and them who fail'd; 
 Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
 2 v2 
 
540 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jftn WML — Milton. 
 QUR voluntary service He requires, 
 
 Not our necessitated ; such with Him 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
 Can Hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 By Destiny, nor can no other choose ? 
 
 ifttafthtg a W^ML — Osborne. 
 \\THAT you leave at your Death, let it be without controversy, 
 else the Lawyers will be your heirs. 
 
 OTltnttfallS. —Horace. 
 You do not value it greatly, because it came by Accident. 
 
 &Ht'ntJ0 aittJ W8L8hz%. — SIiakspeare. 
 
 This Battle fares like to the Morning's war. 
 When dying Clouds contend with growing Light; 
 What time the Shepherd, blowing of his nails, 
 Can neither call it perfect Day nor Night. 
 Now sways it this way, like a mighty Sea 
 Forced by the tide to combat with the Wind : 
 Now sways it that way, like the self-same Sea 
 Forced to retire by fury of the Wind. 
 Sometime, the Flood prevails; and then, the Wind; 
 Now, one the better ; then, another best; 
 Both tugging to be Victors, breast to breast, 
 Yet neither conqueror, nor conquer' d ; 
 So is the equal poise of this fell War. 
 
 ^Mim. — Milton. 
 
 One sip of this 
 Will bathe the drooping Spirits in delight 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 
 
 fflJtne* — Shakspeare. 
 Good Wine is a good familiar Creature, if it be well used. 
 
 WRinttt. — Spenser. 
 T ASTLY came Winter, cloathed all in frize, 
 
 Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill ; 
 Whilst on his hoary Beard his breath did freeze, 
 
 And the dull drops that from his purple bill 
 
 As from a limbeck did adown distill ; 
 In his right hand a tipped Staffe he held, 
 
 With which his feeble steps he stayed still, 
 For he was faint with Cold and weak with eld, 
 That scarce his loosed limbes he able was to weld. 
 
OR, TIIIXGS NEW AXD OLD. 541 
 
 SHwfoOttt.— Shakspeare. 
 
 To Wisdom he's a Fool that will not yield. 
 
 3l2EfetoMtt.— Colton. 
 
 'THERE is this difference between Happiness and Wisdom : he 
 that thinks himself the happiest man, really is so; but he that 
 thinks himself the wisest, is generally the greatest Fool. 
 
 gKE&tott! Hare. 
 
 'THE intellect of the wise is like glass : it admits the Light of 
 Heaven, and reflects it. 
 
 £Ot£rtJ0m\— Anon. 
 "WISDOM is Alchemy. Else it could not be Wisdom. This is 
 its unfailing characteristic, that it " finds good in every thing/' 
 that it renders all things more precious. In this respect also does 
 it renew the spirit of Childhood within us : while Foolishness 
 hardens our hearts, and narrows our thoughts, it makes us feel a 
 childlike curiosity and a childlike interest about all things. When 
 our view is confined to ourselves, nothing is of value, except what 
 ministers in one way or other to our own personal Gratification : but 
 in proportion as it widens, our sympathies increase and multiply : 
 and w T hen we have learnt to look on all things as God's works, then, 
 as His works, they are all endeared to us. Hence nothing can be 
 further from true Wisdom, than the mask of it assumed by Men of 
 the World, who affect a cold indifference about whatever does not 
 belong to their own immediate circle of Interests or Pleasures. 
 
 ££ltStlOm\ — La Rochefovcaidd. 
 It is more easy to be Wise for others than for ourselves. 
 
 g^tStlOm. — From the French. 
 'THE strongest symptom of Wisdom in man, is his being sensible 
 of his own Follies. 
 
 fcHtSu-Crn. — Terence. 
 Y^ISDOM consists, not in seeing what is directly before us, but 
 in discerning those things which may come to pass. 
 
 TOfrSu'Om. — Pliny. 
 No man is at all times wise. 
 
 ££ttS*!0m. — Gnjmestone. 
 T^ISDOM is the olive that springeth from the Heart, bloometh 
 on the Tongue, and beareth fruit in the Actions. 
 
 ZMiZtWm. — From the Latin. 
 TTE is by no means to be considered wise, who is not wise toward 
 himself. 
 
542 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3i2ftKto<mt;— Cotton. 
 
 npHE Wise Man has his follies, no less than the Fool; but it has 
 been said, that herein lies the difference, — the follies of the 
 Fool are known to the World, but are hidden from himself; the 
 follies of the Wise are known to himself, but hidden from the 
 World. A harmless hilarity and a buoyant cheerfulness are not 
 unfrequent concomitants of Genius; and we are never more de- 
 ceived, than when we mistake Gravity for Greatness, Solemnity for 
 Science, and Pomposity for Erudition. 
 
 (HWLW^m.—Boileau. 
 The Wisest Man is generally he who thinks himself the least so. 
 
 fflMuftOttt.— Fuller. 
 
 If thou wouldst be borne with, bear with others. 
 
 fcSltgtJOm. — Tillotson. 
 'TRUE Wisdom is a thing very extraordinary. Happy are they 
 that have it : and next to them, not those many that think they 
 have it, but those few that are sensible of their own defects and 
 imperfections, and know that they have it not. 
 
 (OTtSfoOm. — Chesterfield. 
 "VOTING- men are as apt to think themselves wise enough, as 
 drunken men are to think themselves sober enough. They 
 look upon Spirit to be a much better thing than Experience; 
 which they call Coldness. They are but half mistaken ; for though 
 Spirit without Experience is dangerous, Experience without Spirit 
 is languid and ineffective. 
 
 SSEuftOttU— Gibson. 
 
 TT is usually seen, that the wiser men are about the things of this 
 world, the less wise they are about the things of the next. 
 
 &2Htt — From, the French. 
 \\riT resembles a Coquette; those who the most eagerly run 
 after it are the least favoured. 
 
 515Ett. — Johnson. 
 \\7TT will never make a man rich, but there are places where 
 Riches will always make a Wit. 
 
 W&rit — Osborn. 
 
 T ET your Wit rather serve you for a buckler to defend yourself, 
 by a handsome reply, than the Sword to wound others, though 
 with never so facetious a Reproach, remembering that a Word 
 cuts deeper than a sharper weapon, and the Wound it makes is 
 longer curing 
 
OR, THIXG S NEW AXD OLD. 543 
 
 ZZAit— South. 
 A S the repute of Wisdom, so that of Wit also, is very casual. 
 Sometimes a lucky saying or a pertinent reply has procured 
 an esteem of Wit to persons otherwise very shallow ; so that, if 
 such a one should have the ill hap to strike a man dead with a 
 smart saying, it ought in all Reason and Conscience to be judged 
 but a chance-medley. Nay, even when there is a real stock of Wit, 
 yet the wittiest sayings and sentences will be found in a great 
 measure the issues of chance, and nothing else but so many lucky 
 hits of a roving Fancy. For consult the acutest Poets and 
 Speakers ; and they will confess that their quickest and most 
 admired conceptions were such as darted into their minds like 
 sudden flashes of Lightning, they knew not how nor whence; and 
 not by any certain consequence or dependence of one thought 
 upon another. 
 
 ZZXU. — La Bruyere. 
 Wit is the god of moments, but Genius is the god of ages. 
 
 if Z lit. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 A man does not please long when he has only one species of Wit. 
 
 (TiLltt. — Zimmerman. 
 VTANY species of Wit are quite mechanical : these are the 
 favourites of witlings, whose Fame in words scarce outlives 
 the remembrance of their funeral Ceremonies. 
 
 £2 ttt. — Lavater. 
 HPHE proverbial wisdom of the Populace at gates, on roads, and 
 in markets, instructs the attentive ear of him who studies Man. 
 more fully than a thousand rules ostentatiously arranged. 
 
 fflJEtt. — Sir Thomas Ocerbury. 
 \VIT is brush-wood, Judgment timber : the one gives the 
 greatest Flame, the other yields the durablest Heat; and both 
 meeting make the best Fire. 
 
 ££lit. — From the Latin. 
 YVTITICISMS never are agreeable, which are injurious to 
 others. 
 
 ZZXit,—Anon. 
 YirHAT a dull, plodding, tramping, clanking would the ordinary 
 intercourse of Society be, without Wit to enliven and 
 brighten it ! When two men meet, they seem to be kept at bay 
 through the estranging effects of Absence, until some sportive sally 
 opens their hearts to each other. Nor does any thing spread cheer- 
 fulness so rapidly over a whole party, or an assembly of people 
 
544 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 however large. Reason expands the soul of the philosopher j Ima- 
 gination glorifies the poet, and breathes a breath of Spring through 
 the young and genial : but, if we take into account the numberless 
 glances and gleams whereby Wit lightens our every-day life, I 
 hardly know what power ministers so bountifully to the innocent 
 pleasures of Mankind. 
 
 (OTomatt. — Shakspeare. 
 The venom clamours of a jealous Woman 
 Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. 
 
 ^Moman.—Anon. 
 
 "VyHEN a Maiden is too forward, her admirer deems it time to 
 draw back. 
 
 Moman. — Shakspeare. 
 Proper Deformity seems not in the Fiend 
 So horrid, as in Woman. 
 
 QMtimm. — Fuller. 
 TF thou wouldest please the Ladies, thou must endeavour to make 
 them pleased with themselves. 
 
 TOJOtttan. — Shakspeare. 
 How easy is it for the proper-false 
 In Women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 
 
 S&tOman. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 XT AVE ever more care that thou be beloved of thy Wife, rather 
 than thyself besotted on her: and thou shalt judge of her 
 Love by these two observations : First, if thou perceive she have 
 a care of thy Estate, and exercise herself therein : the other, if she 
 study to please thee, and be sweet unto thee in Conversation, with- 
 out thy instruction ; for Love needs no teaching, nor precept. 
 
 TOinmaiT. _ Juvenal. 
 
 Few disputes exist which have not had their origin from Woman.' 
 
 &2Hnman. _ Coiton. 
 
 T\TOMEN do not like a Man the worse for having many favour- 
 ites, if he deserts them all for her; she fancies that she her- 
 self has the power of fixing the wanderer; that other Women con- 
 quer like the Parthians, but that she herself, like the Romans, 
 can not only make conquests, but retain them. 
 
 2Momatt. — From the French. 
 TyTTHOUT Woman the two extremities of this Life would be 
 destitute of succour, and the middle would be devoid of 
 Pleasure. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 545 
 
 92&0matt. — Skakspeare. 
 
 Women are as Roses ; whose fair flower, 
 Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour. 
 
 <L£tmnan. — Skakspeare. 
 Men have marble, Women waxen, minds, 
 
 And therefore are they form'd as marble will ; 
 The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds 
 
 Is form'd in them by Force, by Fraud, or Skill; 
 
 Then call them not the authors of their ill, 
 No more than Wax shall be accounted evil, 
 Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a Devil. 
 
 Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain, 
 Lays open all the little worms that creep; 
 
 In Men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain 
 Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep : 
 Through crystal walls each little mote will peep : 
 Though Men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, 
 Poor Women's faces are their own faults' books. 
 
 No men inveigh against the wither' d flower, 
 But chide rough Winter that the flower hath kill'd ! 
 
 Not that devour'd, but that which doth devour, 
 Is worthy blame. Oh, let it not be held 
 Poor Women's faults, that they are so fulfill'd 
 With men's abuses : those proud lords, to blame, 
 Make weak-made Women tenants to their Shame. 
 
 WXomm.— Skakspeare. 
 A WOMAN moved, is like a Fountain troubled, 
 Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of Beauty; 
 And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty 
 Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. 
 
 Moman. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "VITOMEN never have a complete severity of Demeanour except 
 toward those whom they dislike. 
 
 &3i0matt. — Cotton. 
 PLEASURE is to Women what the Sun is to the Flower; if 
 moderately enjoyed, it beautifies, it refreshes, and it improves; 
 if immoderately, it withers, etiolates, and destroys. 
 
 OTlomatt. — Skakspeare. 
 'THE hand that hath made you fair, hath made you good : the 
 Goodness, that is cheap in Beauty, makes Beauty brief in good- 
 ness; but Grace, being the Soul of your complexion, should keep 
 the body of it ever fair. 
 
riG ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 TOomatt. — Coiton. 
 
 "YTOST Females will forgive a Liberty, rather than a Slight; and 
 if any Woman were to hang a man for stealing her picture, 
 although it were set in gold, it would be a new case in Law ; but 
 if he carried off the Setting, and left the Portrait, I would not 
 answer for his safety. 
 
 <Jl2aomait. — Shakspeare. 
 T AM ashamed, that Women are so simple 
 
 To offer War where they should kneel for Peace ; 
 Or seek for Rule, Supremacy, and Sway, 
 When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. 
 Why are our bodies soft, and weak and smooth, 
 Unapt to toil and trouble in the World ; 
 But that our soft conditions and our Hearts, 
 Should well agree with our external parts? 
 
 fcSJoman. — Coiton. 
 
 r FHE Women are satisfied with less than the Men ; and yet, not- 
 withstanding this, they are less easily satisfied. In the first 
 place — Preference and Precedence are indispensable articles with 
 them, if we would have our favours graciously received; they look 
 moreover to the mode, the mauner, and the address, rather than to 
 the value of the obligation, and estimate it more by the time, the 
 cost, and the trouble we may have expended upon it, than by its 
 intrinsic worth. Attention is ever current coin with the Ladies, 
 and they weigh the Heart much more scrupulously than the Hand. 
 
 $2HomaTt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 XyOMEN can less easily surmount their Coquetry than their 
 Passions. 
 
 OTomaU, — Steele. 
 TF we were to form an image of dignity in a Man, we should give 
 him Wisdom and Valour, as being essential to the character of 
 manhood. In the like Manner, if you describe a right Woman in 
 a laudable sense, she should have gentle Softness, tender Fear, and 
 all those parts of life which distinguish her from the other sex ; 
 with some subordination to it, but such an Inferiority that makes 
 her still more lovely. 
 
 Momatt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 THERE can be no regulation in the Minds nor in the Hearts of 
 Women, unless their temperament is in unison with it. 
 
 Wfomm.:-* Addison. 
 
 A VIRTUOUS mind in a fair body is indeed a fine Picture in a 
 good light, and therefore it is no wonder that it makes the 
 beautiful Sex all over charms. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 547 
 
 O^Omatt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 JF two Gods should play some heavenly match, 
 
 And on the wager lay two earthly Women, 
 And Portia one, there must be something else 
 Pawn'd with the other j for the poor rude world 
 Hath not her fellow. 
 
 SHoman, — Coiton. 
 
 'yyOMEN that are the least bashful are not unfrequently the most 
 modest; and we are never more deceived, than when we would 
 infer any laxity of Principle, from that freedom of Demeanour 
 which often arises from a total ignorance of Vice. 
 
 ftSJOtnail. — Shakspeare. 
 Where is any Author in the world, 
 Teaches such beauty as a Woman's eye ? 
 
 ftSJoman. — SJiakspeare. 
 She is peevish, sullen, froward, 
 Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; 
 Neither regarding that she is my child, 
 Nor fearing me as if I were her Father. 
 
 Q&tOtttaiU— Addison. 
 
 Widows are the great game of Fortune-Hun ters. 
 
 %&*0man. — Herder. 
 J^AST among the characteristics of Woman, is that sweet motherly 
 Love with which Nature has gifted her; it is almost independent 
 of cold Reason, and wholly removed from all selfish hope of reward. 
 Not because it is lovely, does the Mother love her Child, but 
 because it is a living part of herself, — the Child of her Heart, a 
 fraction of her own nature. Therefore do her entrails yearn over 
 his wailings; her Heart beats quicker at his joy ; her blood flows 
 more softly through her veins, when the Breast at which he drinks 
 knits him to her. In every uncorrupted nation of the earth, this 
 feeling is the same; climate, which changes every thing else, changes 
 not that. — It is only the most corrupting forms of society which 
 have power gradually to make luxurious Vice sweeter than the 
 tender cares and soils of Maternal Love. 
 
 OJOtlUm. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Constant you are; 
 But yet a Woman ; and for secrecy, 
 No lady closer ; for I well believe, 
 Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; 
 And so far will I trust thee. 
 2 W 
 
54b ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Wiom an. — Sir Roger V Estrange. 
 TTE that contemns a Shrew to the degree of not descending to 
 word it with her, does worse than beat her. 
 
 SHomatl* — Addison. 
 
 "^"OTHING makes a Woman more esteemed by the opposite sex 
 than Chastity ; whether it be that we always prize those most 
 who are hardest to come at, or, that nothing besides Chastity, with 
 its collateral attendants, Truth, Fidelity, and Constancy, gives the 
 man a property in the person he loves, and consequently endears 
 her to him above all thiugs. 
 
 MJnman. _ Spemer. 
 'TRUST not the Treason of those smiling looks, 
 Until ye have their guileful trains well trode, 
 For they are like unto golden hooks, 
 That from the foolish Fish their bates do hide. 
 
 QWlOmaVl. — Greville. 
 TT is perhaps true, that Women generally come into life with 
 higher ideas of Delicacy than Men; but I believe it true also, 
 that they generally retire from Life with lower. 
 
 £2ii01ttatt. — Shakspeare. 
 Her Voice was ever soft, 
 Gentle and low; an excellent thing in Woman. 
 
 ftStOmatt. — Greville. 
 T HAVE often thought that the nature of Women was inferior to 
 that of Men in general, but superior in particular. 
 
 2i®lomatU— Shakspeare. 
 
 I never yet saw Man, 
 How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, 
 But she would spell him backward : if fair-faced, 
 She'd swear, the Gentleman should be her sister; 
 If black, why, Nature, drawing of an antic, 
 Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; 
 If low, an aglet very vilely cut ; 
 If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds ; 
 If silent, why, a block moved with none. 
 So turns she every Man the wrong side out, 
 And never gives to Truth and Virtue that 
 Which Simpleness and Merit purchaseth. 
 
 3t2£tOm&tt, — Tom Brown. 
 A WOMAN may learn one useful doctrine from the game oi 
 Backgammon, which is, not to take up her Man till she's surf 
 of binding him. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 549 
 
 <&2Homatt. — Shakspeare. 
 "VTISTRESS, know yourself; down on yourjmees, 
 
 And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's Love; 
 For I must tell you friendly in your ear, 
 Sell when you can ; you are not for all markets. 
 
 &£loman. — Rousseau. 
 HTHE World is the book of Women. Whatever knowledge they 
 may possess is more commonly acquired by observation thau 
 by Heading. 
 
 £230man. — Shakspeare. 
 "VfAKE the doors upon a Woman's wit, and it will out at the 
 Casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the Key-hole ; stop 
 that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the Chimney. 
 
 £23oman. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Sha'll not be hit 
 With Cupid's arrow ; she hath Dian's wit : 
 And, in strong proof of Chastity well arm'd, 
 From Love's weak childish bow, she lives unharm'd. 
 She will not stay the siege of loving terms, 
 Nor bide th' Encounter of assailing eyes, 
 Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing Gold. 
 
 £<Ltuman. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 "YKTHAT causes the majority of Women to be so little touched 
 by Friendship is, that it is insipid when they have once tasted 
 of Love. 
 
 ££10man. — Shakspeare. 
 CHE is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a Disposition, she 
 holds it a Vice in her Goodness not to do more than she is re- 
 quested. 
 
 In any honest suit, she's framed as fruitful 
 As the free Elements. 
 
 %&aman.*-GreviUe. 
 
 ATODESTY in Woman, say some shrewd Philosophers, is not 
 natural: it is artificial and acquired; but what then, and tc 
 what end, is that natural Taste, that delicate Sensation, that 
 Approbation of it, in Man ? 
 
 ££loman. — Shakspeare. 
 ^HE hath all courtly parts more exquisite, 
 
 Than lady, ladies, Woman ; from every one 
 The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, 
 Outsells them all. 
 
650 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 OUomatt.— S. T. Coleridge. 
 A WOMAN'S Head is usually over ears in her Heart. Man 
 seems to have been designed for the superior being of the two; 
 but as things are, I think Women are generally better Creatures 
 than Men. They have, taken universally, weaker appetites and 
 weaker intellects, but they have much stronger Affections. A man 
 with a bad Heart has been sometimes saved by a strong Head; but 
 a corrupt Woman is lost for ever. 
 
 &&toman. — Shakspeare. 
 All of her, that is out of door most rich, 
 If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, 
 She is alone the Arabian bird. 
 
 ftOoman,— Cotton. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL Woman, if poor, should use double circumspec- 
 tion; for her Beauty will tempt others, her Poverty herself. 
 
 QMomm. — Shakspeare. 
 She's a lady 
 So tender of Rebukes, that words are strokes, 
 And strokes Death to her. 
 
 WRdXtim. — Shakspeare. 
 
 All that life can rate 
 Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate : 
 Youth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, Virtue, all 
 That Happiness and prime can happy call. 
 
 &2E0tnatt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 QOQUETTES make a merit of being jealous of their Lovers, to 
 conceal their being envious of other Women. 
 
 fflJomatt. — Shakspeare. 
 T?OR she is wise, if I can judge of her ; 
 
 And fair she is, if that mine Eyes be true; 
 And true she is, as she hath proved herself; 
 And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true, 
 Shall she be placed in my constant Soul. 
 
 <H2!luman. — Shakspeare. 
 Fear and Niceness, 
 The handmaids of all Women, or more truly, 
 Woman its pretty Self. 
 
 2Muman\ — Shakspeare. 
 If Ladies be but young and fair, 
 They have the Gift to know it. 
 
 <£2i0inatt. — From the Italian. 
 A beautiful Woman by her smiles draws tears from our purse. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 551 
 
 S5Ioman. — Shakspeare. 
 Kindness in Women, not their beauteous looks, 
 Shall win my Love. 
 
 W&Wam.-- Steele. 
 
 IJE that can keep handsomely within rules, and support the Car- 
 riage of a Companion to his Mistress, is much more likely to 
 prevail, than he who lets her see the whole relish of his Life de- 
 pends upon her. If possible, therefore, divert your Mistress rather 
 than sigh for her. 
 
 SHoman. — Shakspeare. 
 Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, 
 More than quick words, do move a Woman's mind. 
 
 (SSJoman. — Simonides. 
 A MAN cannot possess any thing that is better than a good Wo- 
 man, nor any thing that is worse than a bad one. 
 
 W&Oman. — Lavater. 
 She neglects her Heart who studies her Glass. 
 
 S&loman. — Epktetus. 
 
 \\THEN girls are grownup they begin to be courted and caressed; 
 then they think, that the recommending themselves to the 
 affections of the Men is the only business they have to attend to, 
 and so presently fall to tricking, and dressing, and practising all 
 the little engaging Arts peculiar to their Sex. In these they place 
 all their hopes, as they do all their Happiness in the success of 
 them. But it is fit they should be given to understand, that there 
 are other attractives much more powerful than these ; that the re- 
 spect we pay them is not due to their Beauty, so much as to their 
 Modesty and Innocence, and unaffected Virtue. And that these 
 are the true, the irresistible charms, such as will make the surest 
 and most lasting Conquests. 
 
 312Ioman. — Shakspeare. 
 TIG off a tune at the Tongue's end, canary to it with your feet, 
 humour it with turning up your Eyelids; sigh a note, and sing 
 a note ; sometime through the Throat, as if you swallowed Love 
 with singing Love ; sometime through the Nose, as if you snuffed 
 up Love by smelling Love ; — and keep not too long in one tune, 
 but a snip and away : These are complements, these are Humours ; 
 these betray nice wenches. 
 
 &2aoman\ — St. Pierre. 
 
 'THE Christian religion alone contemplates the conjugal union in 
 
 the order of Nature; it is the only religion which presents 
 
 Woman to Man as a companion ; every other abandons her to him 
 
 as a slave. To religion alone do European women owe the liberty 
 
 2 \v2 
 
552 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 they enjoy : and from the liberty of Women that of nations has 
 flowed, accompanied with the proscription of many inhuman usages 
 diffused over all the other parts of the world, such as Slavery, Se- 
 raglios, and Eunuchs. 
 
 W&Qman. — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis Beauty, that doth oft make Women proud; 
 'Tis Virtue, that doth make them most admired ; 
 'Tis Modesty, that makes them seem divine. 
 
 OTJoman.— Piautus. 
 
 A WOMAN'S true dowry, in my opinion, is Virtue, Modesty, 
 and Desires restrained; not that which is usually so called. 
 
 (SHOIttatt* — Goldsmith. 
 HPHE modest Virgin, the prudent Wife, or the careful Matron, 
 are much more serviceable in life, than petticoated Philosophers, 
 blustering Heroines, or virago Queens. She who makes her hus- 
 band and her children happy, who reclaims the one from Vice, 
 and trains up the other to Virtue, is a much greater character than 
 ladies described in romance, whose whole occupation is to murder 
 Mankind with shafts from their quiver or their eyes. 
 
 (EHrjtnatt. — Shakspeare. 
 A Woman impudent and mannish grown 
 Is not more loath'd than an effeminate Man. 
 
 <&2&Ciman. — Greville. 
 \\TE are often governed by people not only weaker than ourselves, 
 but even by those whom we think so. 
 
 MO matt. — Sliakspeare. 
 
 Disloyal? No; 
 She's punish'd for her Truth ; and undergoes, 
 More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults 
 As would take in some Virtue. 
 
 raomatt.— Butler. 
 VOU wound like Parthians, while you fly, 
 
 And kill with a retreating Eye ; 
 Retire the more, the more we press, 
 To draw us into Ambushes. 
 
 MJoman. — Shakspeare. 
 1 HAVE those hopes of her good, that her Education promises : 
 her dispositions she inherits, which make fair gifts fairer; for 
 •vhere an unclean mind carries virtuous Qualities, there commend- 
 ations go with pity, they are Virtues and Traitors too ; in her, they 
 are the better for their simpleness; she derives her Honesty, and 
 achieves her Goodness 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 553 
 
 OUOtttan. — La Bruyere. 
 TyOMEN, ever in extremes, are always either better or worse 
 than Men. 
 
 <52fiCimatt. — Shakspeare. 
 TTHOU wilt never get thee a Husband, if thou be so shrewd with 
 
 thy Tongue. 
 
 &2Eoman. — Pope. 
 
 A ND yet, believe me, good as well as ill, 
 Woman's at best a Contradiction still. 
 Heaven when it strives to polish all it can 
 Its last best work, but forms a softer man ; 
 Picks from each Sex, to make the favourite blest, 
 Your love of Pleasure, our desire of Rest. 
 Blends, in exception to all general rules, 
 Your taste of Follies, with our scorn of Fools; 
 Reserve with Frankness, Art with Truth allied, 
 Courage with Softness, Modesty with Pride ; 
 Fix'd Principles, with Fancy ever new ; 
 Shakes all together, and produces — You. 
 
 OTioman. — Lyttelton. 
 One only care your gentle breasts should move, — 
 Th' important bus'ness of your life is Love. 
 
 E2l0man. — Shakspeare. 
 Who might be your Mother, 
 That you insult, exult, and all at once, 
 Over the wretched? What though you have more Beauty, 
 (As, by my faith, I see no more in you 
 Than without Candle may go dark to bed,) 
 Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ? 
 
 <S2l0tnan Shakspeare. 
 
 ft HE speaks Poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were 
 as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her. 
 She would infect to the North Star. She would have made Her- 
 cules have turned spit; yea, and have cleft his Club, to make the 
 Fire too. 
 
 (S&lOman. — Shakspeare. 
 r rHE tongues of mocking Wenches are as keen 
 
 As is the razor's edge invisible, 
 Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen ; 
 Above the Sense of Sense : so sensible 
 Seemeth their conference ; their conceits have wing9, 
 Fleeter than Arrows, Bullets, Wind, Thought, swiffer things. 
 
554 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ffl&man. — Moore. 
 "VET was there light around her brow, 
 
 A Holiness in those dark eyes, 
 Which show'd — though wand'ring earthward now — 
 
 Her spirit's home was in the skies. 
 Yes — for a Spirit, pure as hers, 
 Is always pure, even while it errs j 
 As Sunshine, broken in the rill, 
 Though turn'd astray, is Sunshine still ! 
 
 M&Oman.— Byron. 
 GUCH was this Daughter of the southern seas, 
 
 Herself a billow in her energies, 
 To bear the bark of others' Happiness, 
 Nor feel a Sorrow till their Joy grew less. 
 
 WRomm. — Moore. 
 RAPTURED he quits each dozing Sage, 
 
 Woman ! for thy lovelier page ! 
 Sweet book ! unlike the books of Art, 
 Whose errors are thy fairest part ; 
 In whom, the dear Errata column 
 Is the best page in all the Volume. 
 
 SHOtttan. — ShaJcspeare. 
 You seem to me as Dian in her orb ; 
 As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown. 
 
 SHoman. — Lord Lyttelton. 
 GEEK to be good, but aim not to be great; 
 
 A Woman's noblest station is Retreat ; 
 Her fairest Virtues fly from public sight ; 
 Domestic worth, — that shuns too strong a Light. 
 
 W&Omm. — Moore. 
 Q WOMAN ! whose form and whose Soul 
 
 Are the spell and the Light of each path we pursue 
 Whether sunn'd in the Tropics, or chill'd at the Pole, 
 
 If Woman be there, there is happiness too. 
 
 WlQmm. — Scott. 
 TN peasant life he might have known 
 
 As fair a face, as sweet a tone ; 
 But Village Notes could ne'er supply 
 That rich and varied melody ; 
 And ne'er in cottage maid was seen 
 The easy Dignity of Mien, 
 Claiming respect, yet waving state, 
 That marks the Daughters of the Great. 
 
R, T II IX G S NE W A XL OLD. 555 
 
 tSSHomatt. — Shakspeare. 
 She did make defect, perfection, 
 And, breathless, Power breathe forth. — 
 Age cannot wither her, nor Custom stale 
 Her infinite variety. 
 
 MiOman, — Campbell. 
 AND say, without our Hopes, without our Fears, 
 
 Without the Home that plighted Love endears, 
 Without the Smile from partial Beauty won, 
 Oh ! what were Man ! — a World without a Sun. 
 
 W& Oman.— Byron. 
 Soft as the memory of buried Love ! 
 Pure, as the Prayer which Childhood wafts above ; 
 Was she. 
 
 OTiomatt. — Shakspeare. 
 'Tis a good hearing, when Children are toward ; 
 But a harsh hearing, when Women are froward. 
 
 Mloman.— Lamb. 
 
 'THE Fair not always view with favouring eyes 
 
 The very virtuous or extremely wise, 
 But, odd it seems, will sometimes rather take 
 Want with the Spendthrift, riot with the rake. 
 
 TOOtttan.— Byron. 
 TTER eye's dark charm 'twere vain to tell, 
 
 But gaze on that of the Gazelle, 
 It will assist thy fancy well, 
 As large, as languishingly dark, 
 But Soul beam'd forth in every spark 
 That darted from beneath the lid, 
 Bright as the jewel of Giamschid. 
 Yea, Soul, and should our Prophet say 
 That form was naught but breathing clay, 
 By Alia ! I would answer nay. 
 
 QWLOman. — Shakspeare. 
 r)H, what a Hell of witchcraft lies 
 
 In the small orb of one particular Tear ! 
 But with the Inundation of the eyes 
 W T hat rocky Heart to water will not wear ? 
 What breast so cold that is not warmed here ? 
 Oh, cleft effect ! cold Modesty, hot Wrath, 
 Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath ! 
 
556 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %M Oman — Campbell. 
 The world was sad ! — the garden was a wild ! 
 The Man, the Hermit, sigh'd — till Woman smiled. 
 
 MiOman. — Shakspeare. 
 She will outstrip all Praise, 
 And make it halt behind her. 
 
 <!Moman.— Moore. 
 
 ~^"EW Eves in all her daughters came, 
 As strong to charm, as weak to err, 
 As sure of Man through praise aud blame, 
 Whate'er they brought him, Pride or Shame, 
 Their still unreasoning Worshipper — 
 And, wheresoe'er they smiled, the same 
 Enchantress of Soul and Frame, 
 Into whose hands, from first to last, 
 This World with all its destinies, 
 Devotedly by Heaven seems cast, 
 To save or damn it, as they please ! 
 
 MJOtnaiL — Byron. 
 l^AIR as the first that fell of Womankind, 
 
 When on that dread yet lovely Serpent smiling; 
 Whose Image then was stamp'd upon her mind — 
 But once beguiled — and ever more beguiling. 
 
 Mioman. — Scott. 
 
 C\ WOMAN ! in our hours of ease, 
 
 Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
 And variable as the shade 
 By the light quivering Aspen made ; 
 When pain and anguish wring the brow 
 A ministering Angel thou ! 
 
 <E2E0tnatt. — Shakspeare. 
 
 She cannot love, 
 Nor take no shape nor project of Affection, 
 She is so self-endear' d. 
 
 $Md man, — Shakspeare. 
 T^IE, fie, unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; 
 
 And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, 
 To wound thy Lord, thy King, thy Governor : 
 It blots thy Beauty, as frosts bite the meads ; 
 Confounds thy Fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; 
 And in no sense is meet or amiable. 
 
OR, THINGS XEW AXD OLD. 55: 
 
 Wlamm.— Joanna BailUe. 
 Zounds, Lady ! do not give such heavy blows ; 
 I'm not your Husband, as belike you guess. 
 
 QRHOman. — Byron. 
 
 The very first 
 Of human Life must spring from Woman's breast ; 
 Your first small words are taught you from her lips, 
 Your first Tears quench'd by her, and your last Sighs 
 Too often breathed out in a Woman's hearing, 
 When men have shrunk from the ignoble care 
 Of watching the last Hour of him who led them. 
 
 H&OntaiU — Chapman. 
 
 XTE that holds religious and sacred thoughts 
 Of a Woman ; he that bears so reverend 
 A respect to her, that he will not touch 
 Her, but with a kiss'd hand and timorous 
 Heart ; he that adores her like his Goddess, 
 Let him be sure she'll shun him like her Slave. 
 
 ftSUrma*. — Shakspeare. 
 "l^ROM Women's eyes this doctrine I derive : 
 
 They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; 
 They are the Books, the Arts, the Academics, 
 That show, contain, and nourish all the World ; 
 Else, none at all in aught proves excellent. 
 
 Wtoman. — Byron. 
 What they ask in aught that touches on 
 The Heart, is dearer to their feeliugs or 
 Their fancy, than the whole external world. 
 
 £<Lloman\ — Shakspeare. 
 Whose warp'd Looks proclaim 
 What store her Heart is made of. 
 
 2 JLloman. — Shakspeare. 
 TADY, you have a merry heart. * * * Yea, I thank it, pooi 
 Fool, it keeps on the windy side of Care. 
 
 iL&loman. — Shakspeare. 
 'THOU shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me, 
 
 For I am sick, and capable of Fears ; 
 Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of Fears; 
 A Widow, husbandless, subject to Fears ; 
 A Woman, naturally born to Fears ; 
 And though thou now confess, thou did'st but jest, 
 With my vex'd Spirits I cannot take a truce, 
 But they will quake and tremble all this day. 
 
558 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <L£toman.— miton. 
 
 For Contemplation he and Valour forrn'd, 
 For Softness she and sweet attractive Grace ; 
 He for God only, she for God in him. 
 
 OTiomait* — Thomson. 
 HPO train the Foliage o'er the snowy lawn ; 
 
 To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page ; 
 To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, 
 And heighten Nature's dainties ; in their race 
 To rear their graces into second Life ; 
 To give Society its highest taste ; 
 Well-order'd Home Man's best delight to make; 
 And by submissive Wisdom, modest skill, 
 With every gentle care-eluding art, 
 To raise the Virtues, animate the Bliss, 
 And sweeten all the toils of Human Life : 
 This be the female Dignity and Praise. 
 
 W&Oman. — Shakspeare. 
 
 T ET them anatomize her; see what breeds about her Heart: Is 
 
 there any cause in Nature, that makes these hard Hearts? 
 
 &2£ontatt.— Byron. 
 OH ! too convincing — dangerously dear — 
 
 In Woman's eye the unanswerable Tear ! 
 That weapon of her weakness she can wield 
 To save, subdue — at once her spear and shield ; 
 Avoid it — Virtue ebbs and Wisdom errs, 
 Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers ! 
 What lost a World, and made a Hero fly ? 
 The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye. 
 Yet be the soft triumvir's fault forgiven, 
 By this — how many lose not Earth — but Heaven ! 
 Consign their souls to man's eternal Foe, 
 And seal their own to spare some Wanton's wo ! 
 
 fflloman. — Spenser. 
 VE gentle Ladies ! in whose soveraine Powre 
 
 Love hath the glory of his Kingdom left, 
 And th' Hearts of men, as your eternall dowre, 
 
 In yron chaines of Liberty bereft, 
 
 Delivered hath unto your hands by gift, 
 Be well aware how ye the same doe use, 
 
 That Pride doe not to Tyranny you lift, 
 Least if men you of cruelty accuse, 
 He from you take that chiefdome which ye doe abuse. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 559 
 
 ££toman. — Shakspeare. 
 T GRANT, I am a Woman ; but withal, 
 
 A Woman that Lord Brutus took to wife : 
 I grant, I am a Woman ; but withal, 
 A Woman well reputed ; Cato's daughter. 
 Think you, I am no stronger than my Sex, 
 Being so father'd and so husbanded ? 
 
 ZMb\m\\. — Lamb. 
 CTILL Woman draws new pow'r, new empire, still 
 
 From every blessing and from every ill. 
 Vice on her Bosom lulls remorseful Care, 
 And Virtue hopes congenial Virtue there. 
 Still she most hides the strength that most subdues, 
 To gain each end, its opposite pursues; 
 Lures by Neglect, advances by Delay, 
 And gains command by swearing to obey. 
 
 t&lomait.— Byron. 
 "RUT she was a soft landscape of mild earth, 
 
 Where all was Harmony, and Calm and Quiet, 
 Luxuriant, budding; cheerful without mirth, 
 
 Which if not Happiness, is much more nigh it 
 Than are your mighty passions and so forth, 
 
 Which some call "The Sublime;" I wish they'd try it: 
 I've seen your stormy Seas and stormy Women, 
 And pity Lovers rather more than Seamen. 
 
 ©Saomaiu— Pope. 
 
 TN Men, we various ruling Passions find ; 
 In Women, two almost divide the kind : 
 Those, only fix'd, they first or last obey, 
 The love of Pleasure, and the love of Sway. 
 
 B3Etratan.--%nw». 
 
 Maidens, like Moths, are caught by glare, 
 
 And Mammon wins his way where Seraphs might despair. 
 
 ZiUlOman.— Irving. 
 AS the vine which has long twined its graceful foliage about the 
 oak, and been lifted by it into sunshine, will, when the hardy 
 plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, cling round it with its caressing 
 tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs ; so it is beautifully or- 
 dered by Providence, that Woman, who is the mere dependant and 
 ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace 
 when smitten with sudden calamity; winding herself into the rug- 
 ged recesses of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, 
 and binding up the broken heart. 
 
 2 X 
 
560 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ZZXQXbZ. — Lavater. 
 T/"OLATILITY of Words is Carelessness in actions ; Words are 
 the wings of Actions. 
 
 <&00b Wlorftg.— Fichte. 
 ^OT alone to know, but to act according to thy Knowledge, is thj 
 destination ; proclaims the voice of my inmost Soul. Not for 
 indolent Contemplation and study of thyself, nor for brooding over 
 emotions of Piety — no, for Action was existence given thee ; thy 
 Actions, and thy Actions alone, determine thy worth. 
 
 Cf)e TOOtttl. — Johnson. 
 'THOUGH the world is crowded with scenes of Calamity, we look 
 upon the general mass of Wretchedness with very little regard, 
 and fix our eyes upon the state of particular persons, whom the 
 eminence of their qualities marks out from the Multitude ; as, in 
 reading an account of a battle, we seldom reflect on the vulgar 
 heaps of Slaughter; but follow the Hero with our whole attention, 
 through all the varieties of his Fortune, without a thought of the 
 Thousands that are falling round him. 
 
 Cf)e fflJurO!. —Shakspeare. 
 THAT, Sir, which serves and seeks for gain 
 
 And follows but for form, 
 
 Will pack, when it begins to rain, 
 
 And leave thee in the Storm. 
 
 W§Z ft^OtltU — Greville. 
 THE Great see the World at one end by Flattery, the Little at 
 the other end by Neglect ; the meanness which both discover is 
 the same ; but how different, alas ! are the mediums through 
 which it is seen ? 
 
 Cf)e OTcrnJ. — Fuller. 
 TAKE this as a most certain expedient to prevent many Afflic- 
 tions, and to be delivered from them : meddle as little with the 
 World, and the Honours, Places and Advantages of them, as thou 
 canst. And extricate thyself from them as much, and as quickly 
 as possible. 
 
 C|)e WRfttlt!.— Shakspeare. 
 You have too much respect upon the World : 
 They lose it, that do buy it with much care. 
 
 Cf)e IMOtYlJ.— Mackenzie. 
 r)ELUSIVE ideas are the motives of the greatest part of Man- 
 kind, and a heated Imagination the power by which their ac- 
 tions are incited : the World, in the eye of a Philosopher, may be 
 said to be a large Madhouse. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 561 
 
 fTf>* ZZUtltl. — B'jron. 
 T HAVE not loved the World, nor the World me; 
 
 I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd 
 To its Idolatries a patient knee, — 
 
 Nor coin'd ray cheeks to smiles, — nor cried aloud 
 
 In worship of an echo ; in the crowd 
 They could not deem me one of such ; I stood 
 
 Among them, but not of them ; in a shroud 
 Of Thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, 
 Had I not fill'd my mind, which thus itself subdued. 
 
 I have not loved the World, nor the World me, — 
 But let us part fair foes ; I do believe, 
 
 Though I have found them not, that there may be 
 Words which are things, — Hopes which will not deceive, 
 And Virtues which are merciful, nor weave 
 
 Snares for the failing : I would also deem 
 O'er others' Griefs that some sincerely grieve; 
 
 That two, or one, are almost what they seem, — 
 
 That Goodness is no name, and Happiness no dream. 
 
 Ct)e S2U0tiu\ —Buckingham. 
 'THE World is made up, for the most part, of fools or knaves, 
 both irreconcilable foes to Truth : the first being slaves to a 
 blind Credulity, which we may properly call Bigotry: the last are 
 too jealous of that power they have usurped over the Folly and Ig- 
 norance of the others, which the establishment of the empire of Rea- 
 son would destroy. For Truth, being made so plain and easy to 
 all men, would render the designs and arts of knaves of little use 
 in those opinions which set the World at odds, and by the feuds 
 they maintain, enrich those who, in a charitable, peaceful World, 
 must starve. 
 
 Cf)e OTJOtttJ. — Greville. 
 'THE World is an excellent Judge in general, but a very bad one 
 in particular. 
 
 €f)e TOOtHl. — Fuller. 
 T'HOU must content thyself to see the World so imperfect as it is. 
 Thou wilt never have any Quiet if thou vexest thyself, because 
 thou canst not bring Mankind to that exact Notion of things and 
 Rule of Life which thou hast formed in thy own Mind. 
 
 C f)e ftHorUK — Chesterfield. 
 
 T1THEN I reflect on what I have seen, what I have heard, and 
 
 what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all tha' 
 
 frivolous hurry and bustle of Pleasure in the world had any reality; 
 
 but I look upon all that is passed as one of those romantic dreams 
 
N° n 
 
 5G2 IL L U S TR AT10NS OF TR U Til; 
 
 which Opium commonly occasions, and I do by no means desire to 
 repeat the nauseous Dose. 
 
 ILtp MX ISf) tp . — Shahspeare. 
 My Words fly up, my Thoughts remain below : 
 Words, without Thoughts, never to Heaven go. 
 
 €f)0 <!M0X8t. — Shakspeare. 
 The Worst is not, 
 So long as we can say, This is the Worst. 
 
 &2Unmg tuber comes i\tgijt. — s. T. Coleridge. 
 
 'THE history of all the World tells us, that immoral Means will 
 ever intercept good Ends. 
 
 IffJUti).— Byron. 
 more — no more — oh ! never more on me 
 The freshness of the Heart can fall like dew, 
 Which out of all the lovely things we see 
 
 Extracts Emotions beautiful and new, 
 Hived in our bosoms like the bay o' the Bee : 
 
 Think'st thou the Honey with those objects grew? 
 Alas! 'twas not in them, but in thy power 
 To double even the sweetness of a Flower. 
 No more — no more — oh ! never more, my Heart, 
 
 Canst thou be my sole world, my Universe ! 
 Once all in all, but now a thing apart, 
 
 Thou canst not be my Blessing or my Curse : 
 The illusion's gone for ever, and thou art 
 
 Insensible, I trust, but none the worse. 
 
 YOUtf).— Anon. 
 T>LEST hour of Childhood ! then, and then alone, 
 
 Dance we the revels close round Pleasure's throne, 
 Quaff the bright nectar from her fountain-springs, 
 And laugh beneath the rainbow of her wings. 
 Oh ! time of Promise, Hope, and Innocence, 
 Of Trust, and Love, and happy Ignorance ! 
 Whose every dream is Heaven, in whose fair joy 
 Experience yet has thrown no black alloy ; 
 Whose Pain, when fiercest, lacks the venom'd pang 
 Which to maturer ill doth oft belong, 
 When, mute and cold, we weep departed bliss, 
 And Hope expires on broken Happiness. 
 
 ¥mttj.— Byron. 
 
 A LOVELY Being, scarcely form'd or moulded, 
 A Rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. 
 
OK, THINGS NEW AXD OLD. 563 
 
 YOlltf). — Hannah More. 
 Oh ! the joy 
 Of young Ideas painted on the mind, 
 [n the warm glowing colours Fancy spreads 
 On objects not yet known, when all is new, 
 And all is lovely. 
 
 YOUtf).— Byron. 
 Her Smiles and Tears had pass'd, as light winds pass 
 O'er lakes, to ruffle, not destroy, their Grlass. 
 
 YCUtf).— La Brut/ere. 
 "Y"OUNGr Persons, ou account of their Passion for various amuse- 
 ments, are less easily reconciled to Solitude than persons in 
 more advanced life. 
 
 YfjUti). — SirW. Jones. 
 r THE charms of Youth at once are seen and past; 
 And Nature says, " They are too sweet to last." 
 So blooms the Rose : and so the blushing Maid. 
 Be gay; too soon the flowers of Spring will fade. 
 
 Yo U tf) . — Sh akspeare. 
 TIE hath borne himself beyond the promise of his Age; doing, 
 in the figure of a Lamb, the feats of a Lion : he hath, indeed, 
 bettered Expectation. 
 
 YOUtf). —Byron. 
 'THE love of higher things and better days; 
 
 The unbounded Hope, and heavenly Ignorance 
 Of what is call'd the World, and the World's ways; 
 
 The moments when we gather from a glance 
 More joy than from all future Pride or Praise, 
 
 Which kindle Manhood, but can ne'er entrance 
 The Heart in an existence of its own, 
 Of which another's bosom is the Zone. 
 
 YOUti). — Scott. 
 'JHE Tear, down Childhood's cheek that flows, 
 
 Is like the dew-drop on the Rose ; 
 When next the Summer breeze comes by, 
 And waves the bush, the Flower is dry. 
 
 YOUtt).— Byron. 
 TN earlier Days, and calmer Hours, 
 
 When Heart with Heart delights to blend, 
 Where bloom my native valley's bowers, 
 I had — ah ! have I now ? — a Friend ! 
 2x2 
 
564 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ¥OUtf). — Moore. 
 T IGHT, winged Hopes, that come when bid, 
 
 And rainbow Joys that end in weeping, 
 And Passions, among pure thoughts hid, 
 Like serpents under Flow'rets sleeping. 
 
 ITOUtf).— Rogers. 
 OH who, when fading of itself away, 
 
 Would cloud the Sunshine of his little day ! 
 Now is the May of Life. Careering round, 
 Joy wings his feet, Joy lifts him from the ground. 
 
 ¥0Uti) atttl &ge. — Cicero. 
 A S I approve of a Youth, that has something of the Old Man in 
 him, so I am no less pleased with an Old Man, that has some- 
 thing of the Youth. 
 
 ¥0Utf) aritl &fle. — Shakspeare. 
 
 Youth no less becomes 
 The light and careless livery that it wears, 
 Than settled Age his sables, and his weeds, 
 Importing Health, and Graveness. 
 
 %\t <8nfc.