SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 When you leave, please leave this book 
 
 Because it has been said 
 "Ever'thing comes t' him who waits 
 
 Except a loaned hook." 
 
 I 
 
Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library 
 Gift of Seymour B. Durst Old York Library 
 
I HAVE SOMEWHEEE SEEN IT OBSEEVED, THAT WE 
 SHOULD MAKE THE SAME USE OF A BoOK THAT 
 THE Bee DOES OF A FlOWEE ; SHE STEALS SWEETS 
 FEOM IT, BUT DOES NOT INJUEE IT. 
 
 C-OLTON. 
 
TRUTHS ILLUSTRATED 
 
 BT 
 
 CtEeat authors. 
 
 A DICTIONAEY 
 
 OF KBAKtT 
 
 Ji0ttr Cljoirsanb %xh to |tefleriion, 
 
 QUOTATIONS OP MAXIMS, METAPHOES, COUNSELS, 
 CAUTIONS, APHORISMS, PEOVERBS, &c., &c„ 
 
 IN PROSE AND VERSE. 
 
 COMPII-BD TROM 
 
 SHAKESPEAEE, 
 
 AND OTHER GEEAT WEITERS, PROM THE EARLIEST 
 AGES TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 Jourteentlj EUtttotr. 
 
 "A thing is nevex too often repeated which is never sufficiently 
 learned." — Sen«ca. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. L IP P I N C 0 T T & CO. 
 LONDON: LOCKWOOD AND CO. 
 
 MDCCCLXVIII. 
 
PN 
 
 lEnttrett at Stattotwrs' l^all. 
 
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 .1. & W. Eider, Printers, 14, Bartholomew Close. 
 
TO 
 
 THE EIGHT HONOITRABLB 
 
 GEOEGE WILLIAM EEEDEEIOK HOWAED, 
 
 €uxl of ^Kxlkk, 
 
 BTC. ETC. ETC. 
 
 THIS VOIjUME 
 
 IS, 
 
 WITH PEBMISSIOIT, INSCEIBEI), 
 
 AS A TEIBUTE OF RESPECT AND ADMIEATIOK FOR 
 HIS HIGH PUBLIC AND PKIVATB 
 CHAEACTEE, 
 
 BY 
 
^0 tje ^mtitx^ 
 
 Among the Attributes which distinguish Mankind, 
 none are of a higher order than veneration for the 
 True, and love of the Beautiful. The former regu- 
 lates and refines the moral feelings, and the latter 
 supplies a never failing source of rational enjoy- 
 ment ; — their influences, also, are so intimately com- 
 hined, that in appreciating Truth ^oe are taught to 
 discover Beauty, and in contemplating Beauty to 
 elicit Truth. 
 
 The aim of the Philosopher, the Moralist, and 
 the Poet, has heen to promote the exercise of these 
 attributes; and to their worhs, the exemplars of 
 their experience, wisdom, and genius, we naturally 
 turn from the bustle and cares of Life, for Solace, 
 Instruction, and Amusement. 
 
 But many have not the means, the leisure, or the 
 application required to profit by the advantages to 
 be derived from the perusal of BooTcs in their 
 original form, and it is to such, that the numerous 
 compilations, moral and poetical, which illustrate 
 and adorn owr modern Literature, a/re of the greatest 
 value. 
 
 If to a portion they afford but a transient grati- 
 
viii 
 
 TO THE BEADEB. 
 
 fication, snatched during the intervals of worldly 
 occupation, to others they present inducements, fre- 
 quently irresistible, to extend the scope of tJieir 
 intellectual faculties, and to exercise them to their 
 own honor and to the benefit of their fellow-men. 
 
 This consideration has actuated the Compiler in 
 sending his little Book into the world. Sow far 
 he has succeeded in his attempt to discern and 
 appreciate the True and the Beautiful the reader 
 will determine. The collection, doubtless, will be 
 found deficient of that copious illustration, and per- 
 spicuous arrangement, with which the taste and 
 Judgment of a practised literary hand would have 
 embellished it. 
 
 The Compiler, nevertheless, hopes for the reader's 
 indulgence, and he ventures to offer, in palliation of 
 his faults, both of omission and commission, the 
 following passage from a very acute and Judicious 
 writer : " There are few minds but might furnish 
 some instruction and entertainment out of their 
 scraps, their odds and ends of thought. They who 
 cannot weave an uniform web, may at leasv produce 
 a piece of patchworh, which may be useful, and not 
 without a cha'^'m of its own." 
 
 Loudon, 1868. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 OB, 
 
 THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 o- 
 
 ^CCIuatntanCE. — Cowley. 
 
 IP we engage into a large Acquaintance and various 
 familiarities, we set open our gates to the In-vaders of 
 most of our time : we expose our Life to a quotidian 
 Ague of frigid Impertinences, wliicli would make a wise 
 Man tremble to tliink of. Now, as for being known 
 much by sight, and pointed at, I cannot comprehend 
 the Honom' that Hes in that: whatsoever it be, every 
 Mountebank has it more than the best Doctor. 
 
 ^Cqttatntauct. — LorA Bacon. 
 
 IT is good discretion not to make too much of any man 
 at the fkst ; because one cannot hold out tlmt pro- 
 portion. 
 
 <^CqVLKilltmCB. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 WHAT makes us hke new Acquaintances is not so 
 much any weariness of our old ones, or the pleasure 
 of change, as disgust at not bemg sufficiently admired by 
 those who know us too weU, and the hope of being more 
 so by those who do not know so much of us. 
 
 ^cqtttmncut. — CoUon. 
 
 THAT which we acquire with the most difficvdty we 
 retain the longest; as those who have earned a 
 fortune are iisuaUy more careful of it than those who 
 have inherited one. 
 
 Acting. — From the French. 
 
 THERE is no secret in the heart wliich our Actions do 
 not disclose. The most consummate hypocrite can- 
 not at all times conceal the workings of the Mind. 
 
 B 
 
ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 ^Cttns. — Tillotson. 
 
 IT is hard to personate and act a part long ; for where 
 Truth is not at the bottom, Nature will always be 
 endeavouring to rettim, and wiU peep out and betray 
 herself one time or other. 
 
 ^£t{0n. — Colton. 
 
 DELIBEEATE with Caution, but act with Decision ; 
 and yield with Graciousness, or oppose with Eii-mness. 
 ^UajjtatiaiX. — GrevUle. 
 
 AS we should adapt the style of our writing to the 
 Capacity of the Person it is addressed to, so shovild 
 we our manner of acting! for as Persons of inferior 
 Understandings wiR misconceiye, and perhaps suspect 
 some sophistry from an Elegance of Expression whicli 
 they cannot comprehend, so Persons of inferior Sentiment 
 win probably mistake the intention, or even suspect a 
 fraud from a delicacy of acting which they want capacity 
 to feel. 
 
 ^tfatjptatuJlt. — From the Latin. 
 
 HE alone is wise who can accommodate himself to all 
 the contingencies of Life; but the fool contends, 
 and is struggling, Hke a swimmer, against the stream. 
 
 ^IJajjtattOlt. — St. Evremond. 
 
 AS long as you are engaged in the "World, you must 
 comply with its maxims; because notliing is more 
 tmprofitable, than the Wisdom of those persons who set 
 up for Eeformers of the Age. 'Tis a part a man cannot 
 act long, without offending his friends and rendering 
 himself ridiculous. 
 
 SlUaptatuJn. — Gressef. 
 The Eagle of one House is the Eool in another. 
 ^XSrtiS. — Colton. 
 
 A MAN who knows the World, wOl not only make the 
 most of eyerything he does know, but of many 
 thmgs he does not know, and wUl gain more credit by 
 his adroit mode of liiding his Ignorance, than the Pedant 
 by Ms awkward attempt to exhibit his Erudition. 
 
 ^bcr^ttg. — Crahle. 
 In this wild world the fondest and the best 
 Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress' d. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLt>. 3 
 
 ^ber^ltjj. — Sorace. 
 
 ADVEESITY has the effect of ehciting Talents, wlaich, 
 in prosperous Circiunstances, would have lain dor- 
 mant. 
 
 SUbcr^ttg, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Yoir 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 ahke 
 Show'd mastership in floating : Fortime's blows, 
 When most struck home, beiag gentle wounded, crave 
 A noble cunning. 
 
 ^icr^ltM. — Thomson. 
 
 Ye good distress'd ! 
 Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand 
 Beneath Life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, 
 And what yom' bounded view, which only saw 
 A httle part, deem'd evil, is no more ; 
 The storms of wintry Tune will quickly pass, 
 And one unbounded Spring encircle alL 
 
 ^IJOr^ttM. — Rogers. 
 
 The good are better made by iU : — 
 As odom's crush' d are sweeter still ! 
 
 ^ber^ity. — Greville. 
 
 ASK the man of Adversity how other men act towards 
 him : ask those other's, 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. 
 
 ^bec^ttg. — Shakes^peare. 
 
 Sweet are the uses of Adversity ; 
 Which, hke the toad, ugly and venomous. 
 Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. 
 
 ^ber^itg. — Addison. 
 
 THE Q-ods in bounty work up Storms about ns, 
 That give Mankind occasion to exert 
 Theif hidden Strength, and throw out into practice 
 Virtues that shun the day, and he conceal' d 
 In the smooth seasons and the calms of Life. 
 
ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 ^iia*?ttj). — Towig. 
 
 Apfiiction is the good Man's shining scene : 
 
 Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; 
 
 As Mght to Stars, Woe lustre giyes to Man. 
 
 ^ijtce. — Von Knebel. 
 
 HE -who can take Advice, is sometimes superior to him 
 who can give it. 
 
 ^fFectatUJU. — Cowper. 
 
 IN 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 Afiectation. 'Tis my perfect Scorn ; 
 Object of my implacable disgust. 
 
 ^ffectattnu. — From the French. 
 
 WE are never rendered so ridiculous by QuaHties 
 which we possess, as by those wMch we aim at, or 
 aifect to have. 
 
 ^fFCltattnn. — Saville. 
 
 I WILL not call Vanity and Affectation twins, because, 
 more properly, Vanity is the Mother, and Affectation 
 is the darhng Daughter ; Vanity is the Sin, and Affecta- 
 tion is the' Punishment ; the first may be called the Root 
 of Self-love, the other the Fruit. Vanity is never at its 
 fuU growth, tiU. it spreadeth into Affectation ; and then 
 it is complete. 
 
 ^fFectattOn. — St. Fvremond. 
 
 AFFECTATION is a greater enemy to the Face than 
 the smaU-pox. 
 
 Affectation. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THE unaffected of every Country nearly resemble each 
 other, and a page of oiu' Confucius and your Tillot- 
 son have scarce any material difference. Paltry Affecta- 
 tion, strained Allusions, and disgusting 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 endeavom' to please. 
 
 Affcrttnn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The poor Wren, 
 The most diminutive of buds, wiU. fight, 
 Her young ones in her nest, against the Owl. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 5 
 
 ^ffjcti0ll. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 chmb'd unto their nest, 
 Offering their o\vn lives in their young's defence? 
 
 Affectum. — jRogers. 
 
 GrENEEOTis as brave, 
 Affection, Kindness, the sweet offices 
 Of Love and Duty, were to him as needful 
 As liis daily bread. 
 
 ^{fcrttOn. — Anon. 
 
 IN the Intercom-se of social Life, it is by little acts of 
 watchful Kindness, recurring daily and hourly,— and 
 opportunities of doing Kmdnesses, if sought for, are for 
 ever starting up,— it is by Words, by Tones, by Gestures, 
 by Looks, that Affection is won and preserved. 
 
 ^ffgtttOn. — ShaTcespeare. 
 A G-eandam's name is httle less in Love 
 Than is the doting title of a Mother. 
 They are as Cliildren, but one step below. 
 
 ^gg. — Shakespeare. 
 O, SiE, you are old ; 
 Natiu-e in you stands on the very verge 
 Of her confine ; you should be rul'd and led 
 - By some discretion, that discerns yom- state 
 Better than you yourseK. 
 
 %^t. — Steele. 
 
 AN healthy old Eellow, that is not a Fool, is the 
 happiest creature living. It is at that Time of Life 
 only Men enjoy their faculties with pleasure and satis- 
 faction. It is then we have notliing to manage, as the 
 phrase is ; we speak the downright Truth, and whether 
 the rest of the World wiU give us the privilege or not, 
 we have so httle to ask of them, that we can take it. 
 
 %^t, — Rochefoucauld. 
 Eew People know how to be old. 
 
6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS ; 
 
 ^00. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE aim of all is but to nurse the Life 
 With Honour, Wealth, and Ease, in waning Age : 
 Aiid in this aim there is such thwarting strife, 
 That one for all, or all for one we gage : 
 As Life for Honour in feU 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 wliich we expect : 
 Ajid 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. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 YET Time, who changes all, had alter'd him 
 In Soul and Aspect as in Age : Years steal 
 Fhe from the Mind as vigour from the Limb : 
 And Life's enchanted cup but sparMes near the brim. 
 
 %%Z. — Slialcespeare. 
 
 These old Eellows 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, 
 Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. 
 
 ^fle. — Fope. 
 
 LEAEN to hve well, or fairly make your will ; 
 You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your Eill, 
 Walk sober ofi", before a sprighther Age 
 Comes titt'ring on, and shoves you from the stage : 
 Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease 
 Whom foUy pleases, and whose foUies please. 
 
 ^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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 <^%t. — Si/r W. Temple. 
 
 THERE cannot live a more unhappy creature than 
 an ill-natured old Man who is neither capable of 
 receiving pleasures, nor sensible of doing them to others. 
 
 — Armstrong. 
 
 Though old, he still retain'd 
 His manly Sense and energy of Mind. 
 Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe ; 
 He still remBmber'd that he once was young : 
 His easy presence clieck'd no decent joy. 
 Him even the dissolute admu-'d ; for he 
 A graceful looseness when he pleas' d put on, 
 And laughing could instruct. 
 
 — Toung. 
 
 AGE should fly concom-se, cover in retreat 
 Defects of Judgment, and the wiU subdue ; 
 Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast Ocean it must sail so soon. 
 
 ^%t. — Swift. 
 TTTHEN Men grow virtuous in then- old Age, they are 
 TV merely making a sacrifice to Grod of the Devil's 
 leavings. 
 
 ^5^. — SliaJcespeare, 
 
 THO' now this grained face of mine be hid 
 In sap-consuming Wintei-'s drizzKng snow, 
 And all the conduits of my Blood froze up ; 
 Yet hath niy night of hfe some memory ; 
 My wasting lamp some fading Grlimmer left, 
 My dull deaf ears a little use to hear. 
 
 %Zt. — Madame de Stael. 
 It is difficult to grow old gracefully. 
 ^SrtCaSfenc^^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE 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. 
 
 ^tm^. — Kant. 
 
 WHAT are the Aims, which are at the same time 
 _ Duties ? They are, the perfecting of ourselves, the 
 happiness of others. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^mSlttnn. — La ^RoclefoueauU. 
 
 MODERATION cannot have the credit of combatinff 
 and subduing Ambition— they are never found to- 
 gether. Moderation is the Languor and Indolence of the 
 boul, as Ambition is its Activity and Ai-dour. 
 
 ^m5ttt0n. — Shalces^peare. 
 
 I HAVE ventm-'d, 
 1/ike httle wanton boys that swun 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 sei-vice, to the mercy 
 Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
 
 ron. 
 
 TTE who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find 
 
 1± The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow : 
 
 -He who surpasses or subdues Mankind, 
 
 Must look down on the hate of those below.' 
 
 ^ntSltt'Oll. — Byron. 
 
 BUT quiet to quick bosoms is a Hell, 
 And there hath been thy bane ; there is a Fu-3 
 And motion of the Soiil 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 adventm-e, nor can tire 
 Of alight 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 then- contagion ; Conquerors and Kings, 
 Founders of Sects and Systems, to whom add 
 Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all imquiet Thino-s 
 Which stir too Strongly the Soul's secret Springs, 
 And are themselves the Fools to those they fool ; 
 Envied, yet how unenviable ! what stings 
 Are thehs ! One breast laid open were\ School 
 Wluch would unteach Mankind the Lust to shme or rule. 
 
 Bruyere. 
 
 A SLATE has but one Master, the Ambitious Man has 
 J-A. as many Masters as there are persons whose aid may 
 contribute to the advancement of his Fortune ' 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 ^mllittmt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 DEEAMS, indeed, are Ambition ; for tlie very substance 
 of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a Dream. 
 And I hold Ambition of so airy and hght a quality, that 
 it is but a shadow's shadow. 
 
 SlmStttun. — Pope. 
 
 BEING then these blessings to a strict account ; 
 Make fair deductions ; 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 stiU the tilings thy envy call, 
 Say, wouldst thou be the man to whom they fall ? 
 To sigh for ribbands, if thou art so silly, 
 Mark how they grace Lord Umbra, or Sir Eilly. 
 Is yellow dirt the iDassion of thy hfe ? 
 Look but on Gripus, or on Gripus' wife. 
 If parts allm-e tliee, thiak how Bacon sliin'd, 
 The wisest, brightest, meanest of Mankind. 
 
 ^mit^cmattS. — Burton. 
 
 LET the World have their May-games, Wakes, Whit- 
 sunnales ; their Dancings and Concerts ; their Pup]Det- 
 shows, Hobby-horses, Tabors, Bagpipes, BaUs, Barley- 
 breaks, and whatever sports and recreations please them 
 best, provided they be followed with disci-etion. 
 
 ^nat^Cma. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 If she must teem, 
 Create her cluld of Spleen, that it may Hve, 
 And be a thwart disnatur'd torment to her ! 
 Let it stamp wi-inkles in her brow of Youth ; 
 With cadent tears fret channels ia 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 ! 
 
 ^natijana. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 0 VILLAINS, Vipers, damn'd without redemption ; 
 Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man ; 
 Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heai-t; 
 Tlu'ee Judases, each one tlmce worse than Judas ! 
 
10 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^uatomg. — Melancthon. 
 
 IT is sliameM for Man to rest in ignorance of tlie 
 structure of Ms own Body, especially when the know- 
 ledge of it mainly conduces to his welfare, and directs his 
 apphcation of his own Powers. 
 
 ^nce^try. — Colton. 
 
 IT is with Antiquity as with Ancestry, Nations are 
 proud of the one, and Individuals of the other ; but if 
 tliey are nothing in themselves, that wliich is their pride 
 ought to be their humihation. 
 
 ^tttjtt. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 Eeet, till your proud heart break ; 
 Gro, 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 youi' testy humour ? By the Gods, 
 You shall digest the venom of your Spleen, 
 Though it do spht you : for, from this day forth, 
 I'll use you for my Mirth, yea, for my Laughter, 
 When you are waspish. 
 
 ^«50r. — Flutarch. 
 
 THE continuance and frequent fits of Anger produce 
 an evil habit ia the Soul, called Wrathfulness, or a 
 propensity to be angry ; wlaich ofttimes ends in Choler, 
 Bitterness, and Morosity ; when the Mind becomes ulcer- 
 ated, peevish, and querulous, and like a thin, weak plate 
 of iron, receives impression, and is wounded by the least 
 occurrence. 
 
 ^tlSer. — Spenser. 
 
 AND him beside rides fierce revenging Wrath 
 Upon a Lion loth for to be led ; 
 And in his hand a burning Brond he hath, 
 The wliich he brandisheth about liis hed ; 
 His eies did Inu-le forth sparcles fiery red, 
 And stared sterne on all that him beheld ; 
 As ashes pale of hew and seeming ded ; 
 And on his dagger stiU his hand he held, 
 Trembhng through hasty Eage when Choler in Iiim sweld. 
 
 %\X^2X, — ShaTcespeare. 
 Must I give way and room to yoru- rash Choler ? 
 Shall I be frighted, when a Madman stares ? 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. n 
 
 ^nger. — Savage. 
 When Anger rushes, imrestrain'd to action, 
 Like a hot steed, it stumbles in its way. 
 The Man of Thought strikes deepest, and strikes safely. 
 
 ^ItflCr. — Clarendon. 
 
 ANG-EY and choleric Men are as ungrateful and un- 
 sociable as Thunder and Lightning, being in them- 
 selves all Stonn and Tempests; but quiet and easy 
 Natures are hke fair Weather, welcome to aU, and ac- 
 ceptable to all Men ; they gather together what the other 
 disperse, and reconcile ah whom the other mcense : as 
 they have the good wiU and the good wishes of aU other 
 Men, so they have the full possession of themselves, have 
 aU then- own thoughts at peace, and enjoy quiet and ease 
 in their own fortunes, how strait soever it may be. 
 
 ^ngCT. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 LET your Eeason with your Choler question _ 
 What 'tis you go about. To chmb steep lulls 
 Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like 
 A full hot horse ; who being allow' d his way, 
 Self-mettle tires him. 
 
 ^txfler. — Coiton. 
 
 THE Sun should not set upon om- Anger, neither 
 should he rise upon our Confidence. We should 
 freely forgive, but forget rarely. I will not be revenged, 
 and 'this I owe to my enemy ; but I wiU remember, and 
 this I owe to myself. 
 
 •^InCJCr. — Flutarch. 
 
 LAMENTATION is the only musician that always, 
 hke a screech-owl, ahglits and sits on the roof of an 
 angry Man. 
 
 ^tigtr. — Plutarch. 
 
 HAD I a careful and pleasant companion, that should 
 show me my angry face ia a glass, I should not at 
 aU take it 01; to behold a Man's self so unnaturally 
 disguised and disordered, wiU conduce not a httle to the 
 Impeachment of Anger, 
 
 ^Utaci;0Utgm. — GrevUle. 
 
 SOME Characters are hke some bodies in Chemistry 5 
 very good perhaps in themselves, yet fly off and 
 refuse the least conjunction with each other. 
 
1 2 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TB UTII ; 
 
 ^ntasOUt^m. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Steange 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. 
 
 ^ntt^Uttg. — CoUon. 
 
 IT has heen ohserred that a Dwarf, standing on the 
 shoulders of a Griant, wiU see farther than the Griant 
 himself; and the Moderns, standing on the vantage-ground 
 of former discoveries, and uniting aU the fi-mts of the 
 experience of their forefathers, with their own actual 
 observation, may he admitted to enjoy a more enlarged 
 and comprehensive view of tilings 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 by the Ancients, who did hve in the infancy, but by 
 the Modems, who do hve in the matmity of things. 
 
 ^nttqtuty. — Chesterfield. 
 
 I I) 0 by no means advise you to throw away your Time, 
 in ransacking, hke a dull Antiquarian, the mimite and 
 unimportant parts of remote and fabulous times. Let 
 blockheads read, what blockheads wi-ote. 
 
 ^ntttlUttg. — BurJce. 
 
 WHEN ancient Opinions and Eules of Life are taken 
 away, the loss caimot possibly be estimated. From 
 that moment we have no compjass to govern us ; nor can 
 we know distinctly to what port to steer. 
 
 ^nticiUtty. — Tacitus. 
 
 ALL those things wliich are now held to be of the 
 greatest Antiquity, were, at one time, new; and 
 what we to-day hold up by Example, wiU rank hereafter 
 as a Precedent. 
 
 ^jPJJtarantt^. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 IN aU the Professions every one affects a particular look 
 and exterior, m order to appear what he wishes to be 
 thought ; so that it may be said the World is made up of 
 Appearances. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 13 
 
 ^J)pCarancc5. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE World is still deceived mth Ornament. 
 In Laiv, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 
 But, being seasoned 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, 
 Hiduig the grossness with fair Ornament ? 
 There is no Vice so simple, but assumes 
 Some mark of Vu'tue on its outward parts. 
 How many Cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
 As stau's of sand, wear yet iipon 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 cris]:)ed snaky golden locks, 
 WTiich 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 beau.teous scarf 
 Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word, 
 The seeming Truth wliich cunning Times piit on 
 To entrap the wisest. 
 
 ^jpjim'aitceg. — ClmrcUll. 
 Appeaeances to save his only care ; 
 So thhigs seem right, no matter what they are. 
 
 ^Jjpcaranct^. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THERE is a fair Behaviom* in thee, Captain ; 
 And though that Nature with a beauteous wall 
 Doth often close in pollution, yet of thee 
 I wiU believe, thou hast a Mind that suits 
 With this thy fair and outward Character. 
 
 Sjfjprettatt0n. — O-revUle. 
 
 YOU may fail to sliine, in the opinion of others, both 
 in your Conversation and Actions, from being supe* 
 rior, as well as inferior, to them. 
 

 
 14 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTJS; 
 
 BETTER to be despised for too anxious apprehensions, 
 than ruined by too confident a security. 
 
 ^rsumcnt. — Butler. 
 
 It is in Tain 
 (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain, 
 Or hke the stars, inchne men to 
 What they're averse themselves to do ; 
 Eor when disputes are wearied out, 
 'Tis iat'rest still resolves the doubt. 
 
 ^rt. — Lavater. 
 
 THE enemy of Art is the enemy of Nature; Art is 
 nothing but the highest sagacity and exertion of 
 Human Nature; and what Nature will he honour who 
 honours not the Human ? 
 
 ^rt. — From the Latin. 
 
 It is the height of Art to conceal Art. 
 
 ^rttftce. — 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 himseK 
 in another. 
 
 Artifice. — Washington Irving. 
 
 THERE is a certain artificial pohsh — a common-place 
 vivacity acquu-ed by perpetually minghng in the heau 
 Monde, which, in the commerce of the World, supphes 
 the place of a natural suavity and good humotu-, but is 
 pm-chased at the expense of all original and sterhng traits 
 of Character : by a kind of fashionable discipline, the Eye 
 is taught to brighten, the Lip to smile, and the whole 
 Coimtenance to emanate with the semblance of ii-iendly 
 Welcome, while the Bosom is unwarmed by a single 
 Spark of genuine Kindness and good wiU. 
 
 ^ittn^mt^. — Greville. 
 
 WHATEVER natm-al Right Men may have to Free- 
 dom and Independency, it is manifest that some 
 Men have a natural Ascendency over others. 
 
 ^^^actate^. — La Bruyere. 
 
 IE Men wish to be held in Esteem, they must associate 
 with those only who are estimable. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 1 5 
 
 ^iiatiKiti. — Lavater. 
 
 HE who comes from tlie Kitchen smells of its Smoke ; 
 he who adheres to a Sect has something of its Cant ; 
 the College Air pm'sues the Student ; and dry Inliumanity 
 liim who herds with hteraiy Pedants. 
 
 ^iiatisiti, — Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 CHOOSE the company of your Superiors, whenever 
 you can have it ; that is the right and true Pride. 
 
 ^iianntti, — Fuller. 
 
 ASSOCIATE with Men of good Judgment : for Judg- 
 ment is foimd in Conversation. And we make 
 another Man's Judgment ours, by frequenting his Com- 
 pany. 
 
 '^iiatmiti. — Shakes'peare. 
 Thou art noble ; yet, I see, 
 Thy honoiirable 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 ? 
 
 ^l^^Ullttug. — De Moy. 
 
 ASSUMED Quahties may catch the Affections of some, 
 but one must possess Quahties really good, to fix the 
 Heart. 
 
 W;Stt0Jt0ma. — Cicero. 
 
 THE contemplation of Celestial Things will make a 
 Man both speak and think more sublimely and mag- 
 nificently when he descends to himian alfahs. 
 
 ^tl)et^m. — Hare. 
 
 THERE is no bemg eloquent for Atheism. In that 
 exhausted receiver the Mind cannot use its wings, — 
 the clearest proof that it is out of its element. 
 
 %^tiim, — Lord Herbert of Clierlury. 
 
 WHOEVER considers the Study of Anatomy, I be- 
 lieve, will never be an Atheist ; the frame of Man's 
 Body, and Coherence of liis Parts, being so strange and 
 paradoxical, that I hold it to be the greatest Miracle of 
 Natm-e. 
 
 ^ttti^Orttj). — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 THOUG-H Authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft 
 led by the nose with gold. 
 
1 6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^ttt]^0rttg. — Sliakesjpeare. 
 
 AiTTHOElTT, though it err hke others, 
 Hath yet a kind of Medicine in itself, 
 That skins the vice o' the top. 
 
 ^Uti)0rttj). — Shalcespeare. 
 
 OPiace! OForm! 
 How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
 Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls 
 To thy false seeming ? 
 
 ^Ut]^0ritg. — STiahespeare. 
 
 Atjthoeity bears a credent bidk. 
 
 That no particular scandal one can touch, 
 
 But it confounds the breather. 
 
 ^UtijOr^. — Johnson. 
 
 PEOPLE may be taken m once, who imagine that an 
 Author is greater in private life than other Men. 
 
 ^Utl^Or^. — CoUon. 
 
 IT is a doubt whether Mankind are most indebted to 
 those who, hke Bacon and Butler, dig the gold from 
 the mine of Literature, or to those who, hke Paley, purify 
 it, stamp it, fix its real value, and give it currency and 
 utihty. Eor all the practical purposes of Life, Truth 
 might as well be in a prison as in the foho of a School- 
 man, and those who release her from her cobwebbed 
 shelf, and teach her to hve with Men, have the merit of 
 liberating, if not of discovering her. 
 
 ^ttt^OrS. — Sir Egerton Brydges. 
 
 AUTHOES have not always the power or habit of 
 throwing their talents into conversation. There are 
 some very just and weU-expressed observations on tliis 
 point in Johnson's Life of Dryden, who was said not at 
 ah to answer in tliis respect the Character of his Genius. 
 I have obseiwed that vulgar readers almost always lose 
 their veneration for the writings of the Grenius with 
 whom they have had personal intercourse. 
 
 ^ttti)0r^. — Cowper. 
 
 None but an Author knows an Author's cares. 
 Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 17 
 
 ^tlt^nr^. — Spenser. 
 
 HOW many great ones may remembered be, 
 Which in then* days most famously did flom*ish, 
 Of whom no Word we hear, nor Sign now see. 
 But as things wip'd out with a spunge do perish, 
 Because the hving cared not to cherish 
 No gentle Wits, tln-ough pride or covetize. 
 Which might their names for ever memorize ! 
 
 ^Utumu. — Spenser. 
 
 THEN came the Autumne, all in Yellow clad, 
 As though he joyed in his plenteous store. 
 Laden with Fruits that made liim laugh, full glad 
 That he had banisht Hunger, wliich to-fore 
 Had by the beUy oft him pinched sore ; 
 Upon his Head a Wreath, that was enrold 
 With Ears of Corne of every sort, he bore. 
 And in liis Hand a Sickle he did holde. 
 To reape the ripened Fruit the which the Earth had yold. 
 
 ^hKXitt. — Blair. 
 
 OCUESED Lust of Gold : when for thy sake 
 The Fool throws up Ms interest in both worlds, 
 First stary'd in this, then damn'd ia that to come. 
 
 ^iiartCE. — Spenser. 
 
 AND greedy Avarice by Mm did ride 
 Upon a CameU loaden all with Gold : 
 Two u-on colfei's hong on either side. 
 With precious Metall full as they might hold. 
 And in Ms lap an heap of Coine he told ; 
 For of Ms wicked pelf Ms G-od he made. 
 And unto HeU Mm selfe for Money sold ; 
 Accursed Usury was all Ms Trade, 
 And right and wi-ong yhke in equall baUaunce waide. 
 His Life was nigh unto Death's dore yplaste ; 
 And tMead-bare cote and cobled shoes he ware, 
 Ne scarce good morseU all his Life did taste, 
 But both from Backe and BeUy still did spare, 
 To fill Ms Bags, and Eichesse to compare ; 
 Yet Childe nor Kinsman hving had he none 
 To leave them to ; but, thorough daily care 
 To get, and nightly feare to loose Ms owne. 
 He led a wetched hfe unto himself unknowne. 
 
 0 
 
1 8 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TH VTJl; 
 
 ^iiartce. — Moore. 
 
 The Love of G-old, that meanest rage. 
 And latest folly of Man's sinking age, 
 Wliich, rarely yentiiring in the van of hfe, 
 Wliile nobler passions wage their heated strife, 
 Comes skulking last, with Selfishness and Fear, 
 And dies, collecting lumber in the rear. 
 
 ^6artce. — Fope. 
 
 RICHES, like Insects, when eonceal'd they He, 
 Wait but for wings, and in their season fly. 
 Who sees pale Manxmon pine amidst his store, 
 Sees but a backward steward for the poor ; 
 This year, a reserrou*, to keep and spare. 
 The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir. 
 In lavish Streams to quench a Country's tlm-st, 
 And men and dogs shall drink him till they bm-st. 
 
 ^bartce. — Hughes. 
 
 IT may be remarked, for the comfort of honest Poverty, 
 that Avarice reigns most in those who have but few 
 good Qualities to recommend them. This is a Weed that 
 will grow in a barren Soil. 
 
 ^bartCC. — La RocTiefoucauld. 
 
 AVAEICE often produces opposite eSects : there is an 
 infinite number of People who sacrifice aU their 
 propei'ty to doubtful and distant Expectations ; others 
 desjDise great futm-e Advantages to obtam present In- 
 terests of a trifling natm-e. 
 
 9[barice. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 EXTREME Avarice almost always mistakes itself ; 
 there is no Passion wliich more often deprives itself 
 of. its Object, nor on wliicli the Present exercises so much 
 Power to the prejudice of the Future. 
 
 ^bartce. — CoUon. 
 
 THE Avarice of the Miser may be termed the grand 
 Sepulclire of all his other Passions, as they successively 
 ^ decay. But, unlike other Tombs, it is enlarged by Se- 
 pletioUy and strengthened by Age. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 19 
 
 SJa^^MllC^^. — JPlutarch. 
 A S those that puU down private houses adjoining to 
 il. the Temples of the Q-ods, prop up such parts as are 
 contiguous to them ; so, in undermining Bashfuhiess, due 
 regard is to be had to adjacent Modesty, G-ood-Nature, 
 and Humanity. 
 
 3Ba^I)fuIt«^^. — Mackenzie. 
 
 THERE are two distinct Sorts of what we call Bash- 
 fulness ; this, the awkwardness of a Booby, which a 
 few steps into the world will convert into the pertness of 
 a Coxcomb ; that, a Consciousness, which the most deh- 
 cate Feelings produce, and the most extensive Knowledge 
 cannot always remove. 
 
 JScautj). — JByroii. 
 
 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 shoTild be always fair ; and no Man, 
 Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain Woman. 
 
 SSeautg. — Sir A. Sunt. 
 
 WHAT is Beauty ? Not the Show 
 Of shapely Limbs and Features. No. 
 These are but flowers 
 That have their dated hom-s 
 To breathe their momentary Sweets, then go. 
 'Tis the stainless Soul within 
 That outshines the fairest Skin. 
 
 JScatttg. — Sogers. 
 
 Bttt then her Face, 
 So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, 
 The overflowings of an innocent Heart. 
 
 ^Scautg. — JByron. 
 
 WHO hath not proved how feebly Words essay 
 To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray? 
 ^Vho doth not feel, imtiL his failing sight 
 Faints into dimness with its own dehght, 
 His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess 
 The Might — the Majesty of Lovehness ? 
 
20 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Jj^autM. — Shakespeare. 
 Foe her own Person, 
 It beggar'd all Description : she did lie 
 In her pavilion, 
 
 O'erpictm'ing that Venus, where we see 
 The !Fancy out-work Natm-e. 
 
 SBcautg. — Spenser. 
 
 LOiSTG- while I sought to what I might compare 
 Those powerful Eyes, which hghten my dark Spirit j 
 Yet found I nought on Earth, to which I dare 
 Resemble the Image of their goodly hght. 
 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 j 
 Then to the Maker's Self they hkest be ; 
 Whose hght doth hghten aU that here we see. 
 
 JScautg. — Shakespeare. 
 CoTJiD Beauty have better commerce than with Honesty? 
 
 SSeautg. — Spenser. 
 
 FOR shee was full of amiable Grace, 
 And manly Terror mixed therewithall ; 
 That as the one stirr'd up Affections base, 
 So th' other did Man's rash Desires apaU, 
 And hold them backe, that would in error faU : 
 As he that hath espide a vermeiU 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. 
 
 3Beautj1. — Spenser. 
 
 THE Fairness of her Face no tongue can tell. 
 For she the Daughters of aU Women's Race, 
 And Angels eke, in Beaiitie doth excell. 
 Sparkled on her fi-om God's owne glorious Face, 
 And more increast by her owne goodly Grace, 
 That it doth farre exceed ah human Thought, 
 Ne can on Earth compared be to ought. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 21 
 
 33cattty. — Byron. 
 
 SHE gazed upon a World she scarcely knew 
 As seeking not to know it ; silent, lone, 
 As grows a Mower, thus quietly she grew. 
 
 And kept her Heart serene within its Zone. 
 There was Awe in the Homage which she drew ; 
 
 Her Spu'it seem'd as seated on a tlu'one 
 Apart from the sm-rounding World, and strong 
 In its own strength — most strange in one so young ! 
 
 %tK\xtja. — Rochester. 
 
 OH ! she is the Pride and Glory of the World : 
 Without her, aU the rest is worthless dross : 
 Life, a base slavery ; Emphe but a mock ; 
 And Love, the Soul of all, a bitter curse. 
 
 38gatttjJ. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Ai-ii Orators are dumb when Beauty pleadetli, 
 
 JStautj). — Milton. 
 
 Beatity, 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. 
 
 SBcautj). — Spenser. 
 
 HER Looks, were like beams of the morning Sun, 
 Forth-looking tln-ough the window of the East, 
 When first the fleecie Cattle have begun 
 Upon their perled grass to make their feast. 
 
 aScautj). — Byron. 
 
 HEE. glossy Hair was cluster'd o'er a Brow 
 Bright with InteUigence, and fan- and smooth ; 
 Her Eyebrows' Shape was hke the aerial Bows, 
 Her Ciieek aU purple with the beam of Youth, 
 Mounting at times to a transparent glow, 
 As if her Veins ran hghtning. 
 
 3Scailtj). — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Faie Ladies, mask'd, are Eoses in their Bud: 
 Dismask'd, theh damask sweet commixtm-e shown, 
 Ai-e Angels veHing Clouds, or Eoses blown. 
 
22 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 330aittg. — Shalkespeare. 
 The Roman Dame, 
 Within whose face Beauty and Vii-tue strived 
 Which of them both should underjarop her Fame : 
 When Virtue hragg'd Beauty would blush for Shame j 
 When Beauty boasted Blushes, in despite 
 Virtue would stain that o'er with Silver White. 
 But Beauty, in that White intituled. 
 From Venus' Doves doth challenge that fair field ; 
 Then Virtue claims from Beauty Beauty's Eed, 
 Which Vu-tue gave the G-olden 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 Eed should fence the White. 
 
 SScautg. — Milton. 
 
 BEAUTY is Nature's Com, must not be hoarded, 
 But must be current, and the Good thereof 
 Consists in mutual and partaken Bhss, 
 Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself : 
 If you let shp Time, hke a neglected rose. 
 It withers on the stalk with languish' d head. 
 %tmi^. — Byron. 
 
 HER 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 theii- forms appear ! how languid, wan, and weak ! 
 33mitj). — Spenser. 
 
 YE tradeful Merchants ; that with weary toil 
 Do seek most precious things to 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 tliis World's Riches that may far be foimd ; 
 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, adorned with Vertues manifold. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 23 
 
 23eaxttjJ. — Shakespeare. 
 Beauty lives with Kindness. 
 
 23mttg. — Crdbhe. 
 
 LO ! when the Buds expand the Leaves are greeii, 
 Then the first opening of the Flower is seen ; 
 Then come the honied breath and rosy sndle, 
 That with their sweets the wUling sense beguile ; 
 But as we look, and love, and taste, and praise, 
 And the Fruit grows, the charming Flower decays ; 
 Tin aU is gather' d, and the wintry blast 
 Moans o'er the place of love and pleasure past. 
 
 So 'tis with Beauty,— such the openmg grace 
 And dawn of glory in the youthful face ; 
 Then are the charms unfolded to the sight, 
 Then all is lovehness and all dehght ; 
 The nuptial tie succeeds, the genial hour, 
 And, lo ! the falhng oflf of Beauty's flower ; 
 So through all Nature is the progress made,— 
 The Bud, the Bloom, the Fruit,— and then we fade. 
 
 33eatlttt. — Spenser. 
 
 FOE Beauty is the bait which with dehght 
 Doth Man allui-e, for to enlarge his kind ; 
 Beauty, the burning lamp of Heaven's hght, 
 Darting her beams into each feeble Mind, 
 Against whose power nor Grod nor Man can find 
 Defence, reward the danger of the wound ; 
 But beiag hurt, seek to be medicin'd 
 Of her that first did stir that mortal stownd. 
 
 335autM. — Byron. 
 Heaet on her Lips, and Soul witliin her Eyes, 
 Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. 
 
 iScautg. — Spenser. 
 
 FOR sure of aU that ia this mortal frame 
 Contained is, nought more Divine doth seem, 
 Or that resembleth more th' immortal flame 
 Of heavenly hght, than Beauty's glorious beam. 
 What wonder then it with such rage extreme 
 FraQ men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to see, 
 At sight thereof so much enravish'd be ? 
 
Z4 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR TITS; 
 
 ^S^fatltg. — Shakespeare. 
 That whiter skin of hers than snow, 
 And smooth as monumental alabaster. 
 
 SSeautg. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! how refreshing seemed the breatliing wind 
 To her faint limbs ! and wliile 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 attempered dignity was seen 
 Play o'er each lovely hmb, and deck her angel mien. 
 
 3Scautg. — Byron. 
 
 Aeound her shone 
 The nameless Charms unmark'd by her alone ; 
 The Light of Love, the Pui-ity 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 ! 
 
 %tmX^. — Scott. 
 
 THEEE was a soft and pensive Grace, 
 A cast of thought upon her Face, 
 That suited well the Forehead high, 
 The Eye-lash dark, and down-cast Eye ; 
 The mild Expression spoke a mind 
 In duty fii-m, compos' d, resign' d. 
 
 3Scatttg. — Spenser. 
 
 EvEEY Spirit as it is most pure. 
 And hath in it the more of heavenly Hght. 
 So it the fairer Body doth procure 
 To habit in 
 
 For of the Soul the Body fonn doth take, 
 ■ For Soul is foi-m, and doth the Body make. 
 
 %tmt^, — Shalcespeare. 
 JTIIS Beauty truly blent, whose red and wMte 
 
 _L Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : 
 Lady, you are the cruell'st She aUve, 
 If you will lead these graces to the grave, 
 And leave the world no copy. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 25 
 
 JSeaxttg. — Byron. 
 
 SHE was a Form of Life and Light, 
 That, seen, hecame a part of sight ; 
 And rose, where'er I turned mine eye, 
 The Moming-star of Memory ! 
 
 38€autg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 My Beauty, though but mean, 
 Needs not the pamted flom-ish of your praise ; 
 Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 
 JSTot utter' d by base sale of chapmen's tongues. 
 
 330auty. — Moore. 
 
 WHILE she, who sang so gently to the lute 
 Her dream of home, steals timidly away, 
 Shrinkmg as violets do in summer's ray. 
 But takes with her from Azim's heart that sigh 
 We sometimes give to forms that pass us by 
 In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain, 
 Creatures of hght we never see again ! 
 
 JSeautj). — Byron. 
 
 BUT 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. 
 
 23£autj). — Ben Jonson. 
 
 GIVE me a Look, give me a Face, 
 That makes Simphcity a Grrace ; 
 Eobes loosely flowing, Hair as free ! 
 Such sweet neglect more taketh me, 
 Thau all the adulteries of art ; 
 That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 
 
 3Scattty. — Moore. 
 
 EV'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 fiill of bitterness — 
 Ev'n then her glorious Smile to me 
 
 Brought warmth and radiance, if not baLr., 
 Like Moonlight on a troubled sea. 
 Brightening the storm it cannot calm. 
 
2 6 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TB UIH; 
 
 SScautj). — Milton. 
 
 He on his side 
 
 Leaning half rais'd, witli loots of cordial love 
 Hxmg over her enamoui-'d, and beheld 
 Beauty, which whether waking or asleep, 
 Shot forth pectdiar graces. 
 
 33£atttg. ~- Shakespeare. 
 
 SINCE brass nor stone, nor earth nor bomidless sea, 
 Biit sad Mortality o'er-sways their power, 
 How with this rage shall Beaxity hold a plea, 
 Wliose action is no stronger than a ilower ? 
 O, how shall Summer's honey breath hold ont 
 Against the wreckful siege of battering days, 
 When rocks impregnable are not so stout, 
 Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays ? 
 O, fearful Meditation ! where, alack. 
 Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest he hid ? 
 Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back ? 
 Or who Ms spoil of Beauty can forbid? 
 
 JScautj). — Fope. 
 
 YET 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 Eace, and you'll forget 'em aH. 
 
 330atltg. — SJialcespeare. 
 
 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 fi'iends : Here in her Ilaira 
 The painter plays the spider ; and hath woven 
 A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, 
 Easter 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 Ms, 
 And leave itself unflnish'd. 
 
 33£atttg. — ShaTcespea/re. 
 
 0, SHE doth teach the torches to bm-n bright ! 
 Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of Night 
 Like a rich jewel in an Etliiop's ear : 
 Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 27 
 
 SStatltg. — Shakespeare. 
 I SAW sweet Beauty in lier Face, 
 Sucli 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 ia her. 
 
 3S^autj). — Joanna JBaillie. 
 
 TO make the cunning artless, tame the rude, 
 Subdue the haughty, shake th' tmdaunted poul ; 
 Yea, put a bridle in the lion's mouth, 
 And lead bim forth as a domestic cur. 
 These are the triumphs of all-powerful Beauty ! 
 
 380autw. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HEE Stature, as wand-hke straight, 
 As silver-Toic'd ; her Eyes as jewel-hke, 
 And cas'd as richly ; in pace another Juno ; 
 Wlio starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, 
 The more she gives them speech. 
 
 Eeom every blush that kindles in thy Cheek 
 Ten thousand httle Loves and Graces spi-ing 
 To revel in the Roses. 
 
 . ^Caxtt^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HER Hly Hand her rosy Cheek hes under, 
 Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss. 
 Without the bed her other fair Hand was. 
 On the green coverlet : whose perfect wliite 
 Show'd hke an April daisy on the grass, 
 With pearly sweat, resembhng dew of Night. 
 Her Eyes, like marigolds, had sheath' d their hght ; 
 And, canopied in darkness, sweetly lay, 
 Till they might open to adorn the day. 
 
 SStautj). — Joanna JBaillie. 
 
 WITH Goddess-hke demeanour forth she went, 
 Not imattended, for on her as Queen 
 A pomp of winning Graces waited still. 
 And from about her shot darts of desire 
 Into aU eyes to wish her still in sight. 
 
28 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 33tautg. — Thomson. 
 
 Hek Form was fresher than the morning Eose, 
 When the dew wets its leaves ; unstaia'd and pnre, 
 As is the Lily, or the mountain Snow. 
 
 33cauty. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 BEAUTY is but a vain and doubtful Good, 
 A shining Grloss, that fadeth suddenly ; 
 A Flower that dies, when fii'st 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 foiind, 
 As faded Gloss no rubbing will refresh, 
 As Flowers dead, he wither' d on the ground, 
 As broken Glass no cement can redress. 
 So Beauty blemish'd once, for ever's lost, 
 Li spite of physic, painting, paia, and cost. 
 
 38^autg. — Thomson. 
 
 A NATIVE Grace 
 Sat fah-proportion'd on her pohsh'd Limbs, 
 Veil'd 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; 
 
 3Bfautg. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 When I approach 
 Her Lovehness, 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 ; 
 AU higher knowledge in her Presence falls 
 Degraded, Wisdom iu discom-se with her 
 Lose discomit'nanc'd, and hke FoUy shows. 
 
 ^tmi-Q. — JBlair. 
 
 BEAUTY ! thou pretty plaything ! dear deceit ! 
 That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, 
 And gives it a new pulse unknown before. 
 The gi'ave discredits thee : thy Charms expung'd. 
 Thy Roses faded, and thy LUies soil'd, 
 What hast thou more to boast of? Will thy lovers 
 Flock roimd thee now, to gaze and do thee homage ? 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Slethinks I see tliee witli thy Head laid low ; 
 Wliilst sui'feited upon thy damask Clieek, 
 The high-fed worm, in lazy Tolmnes roll'd, 
 Eiots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution ? 
 For tliis thy painful labours at thy glass, 
 T' improve those Charms, and keep them in repair, 
 For which the spoUer thanks thee not ? Foul feede 
 Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well, 
 And leave as keen a rehsh on the sense. 
 
 JStautjJ. — Shakespeare. 
 
 She looks as clear 
 As morning Roses newly washed with Dew. 
 
 33eauty. — Young. 
 What tender force, what dignity divine, 
 What virtue consecrating every Featvire ; 
 Around that Neck what di-oss are gold and pear] ! 
 
 3Beatttg. — Moore. 
 
 OH, what a pure and sacred thing 
 Is Beauty, ciu-tain'd from the sight 
 Of the gross World, illumining 
 
 One only mansion with her hght : 
 Unseen by Man's disturbing eye — 
 
 The Flower, that blooms beneath the Sea 
 "Too deep for sunbeams, doth not he 
 Hid in more chaste obscm-ity ! 
 
 •SStautg. — Lansdowne. 
 She seizes hearts, not waiting for consent, 
 Like sudden death, that snatches unprepar'd ; 
 Like fire from Heav'n, scarce seen so soon as felt. 
 
 33Eauttt. — Rowe. 
 The Bloom of op'ning Flowers, tmsuUied Beauty, 
 Softness, and sweetest Innocence she wears. 
 And looks like Nature in the World's first Spring. 
 33cautg. — Southern. 
 O HOW I grudge the grave this heav'nly Form ! 
 Thy Beauties will inspire the arms of Deatli, 
 And wai-m the pale cold tyrant into life. 
 330at!ta. — Howe. 
 Is she not more than painting can express, 
 Or youthful Poets fancy, when they love. 
 
1 LL U8TBA Tl ONS OF TR UTH; 
 
 SSeautj). — Lee. 
 
 A iiATlSH planet reign' d wlien she was bom, 
 And made her of such kmdred mould to HeaVn, 
 She seems more Heav'n's than oui-s. 
 
 3^tmt^, — Dry den. 
 
 ONE who would change the worship of all climates, 
 And mate a new Eehgion where'er she comes, 
 Unite the differing Faiths of all the World, 
 To idohze her Face. 
 
 JScautg. — Dry den. 
 Her Eyes, her Lips, her Cheeks, her Shapes, her Featm-es 
 Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand j by Lore 
 Himself in Iotc. 
 
 33caxttg, — St. Fierre. 
 
 EVEET trait of Beauty may be referred to some Tn-tue, 
 as to Innocence, Candour, Generosity, Modesty, and 
 Heroism. 
 
 3Bcawtg. — From the Italian. 
 
 SOCRATES called Beauty a short-hved Tyranny; 
 Plato, a Privilege of Nature ; Theophratus, a silent 
 Cheat ; Theocritus, a delightful Prejudice ; Carneades, a 
 sohtary Kingdom ; Domitian said, that nothing wa| more 
 grateful ; Ai-istotle aflu-med, that Beauty was better than 
 all the letters of recommendation in the World ; Homer, 
 that 'twas a glorious gift of Natm-e ; and Ovid, alluding 
 to him, calls it a favour bestowed by the Gods. 
 
 %tmiia. — Greville. 
 
 THE Criterion of true Beauty is, that it increases on 
 examination ; of false, that it lessens. There is some- 
 thing, therefore, in true Beauty that corresponds witli 
 right reason, and is not merely the creatm-e of Fancy. 
 
 33mtta. — Dryden. 
 
 MARK her majestic Fabric : she's a Temple 
 Sacred by birth, and built by hands Divine : 
 Her Soul's the Deity that lodges there ; 
 Nor is the Pile imworthy of the God. 
 
 3B0autg. — From the French. 
 
 BEAUTY, imaccompanied by Virtue, is as a Flo-vvei 
 without Perfume. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 31 
 
 3Smtta. — Anon. 
 
 BEAUTY is spread abroad tlu-ough eartli and sea and 
 sky, and d-s/ells on the face and form, and in the 
 heart of Man : and he will shi-ink from the thought of its 
 being a tiling which he, or any one else, could monopohze. 
 He win deem that the highest and most blessed privilege 
 of his genius is, that it enables him to cherish the widest 
 and fullest sympathy with the hearts and thoughts of Ins 
 brethren. 
 
 33jatttj). — Spenser. 
 
 NOUGHT 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 then- rigour to represse, 
 And mighty hands to forget their Manhnesse, 
 Drawne with the powre of an heart-robbing eye, 
 And wrapt in fetters of a golden Tresse, 
 That can with melting pleasaimce moUifye 
 Their hardened Hearts euur'd to bloud and cruelty. 
 
 3Seaut2). — Lee. 
 
 O SHE is all Perfections ! 
 All that the blooming Earth can send forth fair ; 
 AH that the gaudy Heavens could drop down glorious. 
 
 3Smtta. — Colton. 
 
 THAT is not the most perfect Beauty, which, in pubhc, 
 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, 
 wliich has not only a Substance, but a Spu-it, — a Beauty 
 that we must intimately know, justly to appreciate,— a 
 Beauty hghted up in conversation, where the Mind shines 
 as it were through its casket, where, in the language of 
 the Poet, " the eloqtient blood spoke in her Cheeks, and 
 so distinctly vsTOUght, that we might almost say her Body 
 thought." An order and a mode of Beauty which, the 
 more we know, the more we accuse om-selves for not 
 having before discovered those thousand Graces wliich 
 bespeak that their owner has a Soul. This is that Beauty 
 wliich never cloys, possessing Charms as resistless as those 
 of the fascuiating Egyptian, for which Antony wisely paid 
 the bauble of a World, — a Beauty hke the rising of his 
 own Itahan Suns, always enchanting, never the same. 
 
32 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH ; 
 
 33eatttw. — otway. 
 
 Oh ! she has Beauty might ensnare 
 A Conqueror's soul, and make liim leave his crown 
 At random, to be scuffled for by slaves. 
 
 SSmttjJ. — Clarendon. 
 
 IT was a very proper answer to him who asked, why any 
 man should be dehghted with Beauty ? that it was a 
 question that none but a blind man cotdd 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. 
 
 %tKVX\\ — Steele. 
 
 TO give pain is the tyi'anny, to make happy the true 
 empire, of Beauty. 
 
 3S«0OTtnfl mtr nton i^a^ter. — Anonymous. 
 
 EVERYBODY 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. 
 
 33cn0fircntC. — Ben Jonson. 
 
 THEEE is no bounty to be show'd to such 
 As have no real Goodness : Bounty is 
 A spice of Vu'tue : and what virtuous act 
 Can take effect on them that have no power 
 Of equal habitude to apprehend it ? 
 
 '^ZXnfimXtZ. — Cicero. 
 
 MEN" resemble the gods in notliing so much as in doing 
 Good to their feUow-creatui-es. 
 
 3Benrfi«nc0. — Kant. 
 
 BENEFICENCE is a duty. He who frequently prac- 
 tises it, and sees his benevolent intentions reahzed, at 
 length comes reaUy to love him to whom he has done 
 Good. When, therefore, it is said, " Thou shalt love thy 
 neighbom- as thyself," it is not meant, Thou shalt love him 
 first, and do him Good in consequence of that Love, but, 
 Tliou 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 33 
 
 %ms&mxtt. — Mackenzie. 
 is no use of money equal to that of Beneficence; 
 here the enjoyment grows on reflection. 
 
 Wift Widest 9Scn^. — Cotoper. 
 
 HOW 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. 
 
 3S0tDtllfarment. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 ui them ; but the wisest beholder, 
 that knew no more but seeing, could not say, if the 
 importance were J oy, or Sorrow ; but in the extremity of 
 the one it must needs be. 
 
 3BmctioIcntt. — Pope. . 
 
 SELF-LOVE thus push'd to social, to diviae, 
 Gives thee to make thy neighbotu-'s blessrag thine. 
 Is this too httle for the boimdless 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 degi'ee, 
 And height of Bhss but height of Charity. 
 
 3&tntbaltnct. — From the French. 
 
 THE Conqueror is regarded with awe, the wise Man 
 commands our esteem ; but it is the benevolent Man 
 who wins our afiections. 
 
 33etTE&0fenCC. — Eoioels. 
 
 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. 
 
 38encb0l0nC0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Fob his Bounty, 
 There was no Winter in't ; an Autumn 'twas, 
 That grew the more by reaping. 
 
 D 
 
34 ILL USTEA TIONS OF TB UTR; 
 
 JSeitC&dIcuCC. — Shakespeare. 
 'TiS pity, Bounty had not eyes behind ; 
 That Man might ne'er be wretched for his Mind. 
 
 330nc60leuce. — Colton. 
 
 THERE is nothing that requires so strict an Economy 
 as our Benevolence. We should husband our Means 
 as the Agriculturist his manure, which if he spread over 
 too large a superficies produces no crop, if over too small 
 a surface, exuberates in rankness and in weeds. 
 
 ^StCJOtrg. — Feltham. 
 
 SHOW me the Man who would go to Heaven alone if 
 he could, and in that Man I will show you one who 
 wUl never be admitted into Heaven. 
 
 3BtS0tta. — Bryden. 
 The good old Man, too eager in Dispute, 
 Flew high ; and as his Christian Fury rose, 
 Damn'd all for Heretics who durst oppose. 
 
 SOON their crude Notions with each other fought ; 
 The adverse Sect deny'd what this had taught j 
 And he at length the amplest triumph gain'd, 
 Who contradicted what the last maintain' d. 
 
 3StOSrap5B« — Terence. 
 
 MY advice is, to consult the Lives of other Men, as 
 he would a looking-glass, and from thence fetch 
 examples for his own imitation. 
 
 Wi)Z IL0bB 0f 38trUjS. — Thomson. 
 ?nniS Love creates their Melody, and all 
 
 X 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. 
 
 3Btrfl). — Greville. 
 TTIHEN real Nobleness accompanies that imaginary one 
 V V of Birth, the imaginary seems to mix with real, and 
 becomes real too. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 35' 
 
 3Birtf). — C liar r on. 
 
 THOSE 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 
 famihes and relations every thii'd 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 on so much, and set their 
 credit upon that of others. 
 
 33trrt). — Scott. 
 
 IN 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. 
 
 W^Z 33irtl^tfaa, — Toung. 
 
 AiiAS ! this Day 
 First gave me Bu'th, 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. 
 
 23Imlfnc^5. — Milton. 
 
 ODAEK, dark, dark, amid the blaze of Noon, 
 Irrevocably dark, total Eclipse 
 Without all hope of Day ! 
 O first created Beam, and thou great Word, 
 Let there be Light, and Light was over aU ; 
 Why am I thus bereav'd thy prime decree? 
 
 3BI{ntfJl«g^. — Milton. 
 
 Thus with the year 
 Seasons return, but not to me returns 
 Day, or the sweet approach of Ev'n or Mom, 
 Or sight of vernal Bloom, or sutamer's Rose, 
 Or Flocks, or Herds, or human Face divine ; 
 But Cloud instead, and ever-during Dark, 
 Siu-rounds me, from the cheerful ways of Men. 
 Cut off, and for the Book of Knowledge fair 
 
36 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 Presented with an universal Blank 
 
 Of Nature's Works to me expung'd and ras'd, 
 
 And Wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 %\\mi\U&i. — Shakes-peare. 
 
 HE speaks home; you may reUsh him more in the 
 Soldier, than in the Scholar. 
 
 3BItt^l^tnS. — Spenser. 
 
 THE doubtixd Mayd, seeing herselfe descryde, 
 Was all abasht, and her pure Yvory 
 Into a clear Carnation suddeine dyed ; 
 As fayre Aurora rysing hastily 
 Doth by her Blushing tell that she did lye 
 AH night in old Tithonus' frozen bed, 
 Whereof she seemes ashamed inwardly. 
 
 With every change his Features played, 
 As Aspens show the Light and Shade. 
 
 ^Boa^ttng. — Shakespeare. 
 Conceit, more rich in Matter than in Words, 
 Brags of his Substance, not of Ornament : 
 They are but Beggars that can count their Worth. 
 
 3B0a^tUTfl. — Young. 
 We rise in Glory, as we sink in Pride, 
 Where Boasting ends, there Dignity begins. 
 
 SBoa^ttltfl. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 feU sick and dy'd : 
 I could not do with all : — then I wiU repent, 
 And wish for all that, that I had not kiU'd them : 
 And twenty of these puny Lies I'U tell, 
 That Men shall swear, I have discontinued school 
 Above a twelvemonth. 
 
 3B0as"ttn3. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Who knows himself a Braggart, 
 Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass. 
 That every Braggart shall be found an Ass. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 37 
 
 3300]fe^. — Joineriana, 
 Books, like Friends, should be few and well chosen. 
 
 3300JlS. — Milton. 
 
 AS good almost km 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, em- 
 balmed and treasured up on purpose, to a life beyond life. 
 
 3BO0itS. — Fuller. 
 
 TO 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. 
 
 33001^^. — Anon. 
 
 I HAVE ever gained the most profit, and the most plea- 
 sure also, from the Books which have made me think 
 the most : and, when the difficulties have once been over- 
 come, these are the Books which have struck the deepest 
 root, not only in my memory and understanding, but 
 likewise in my afiections. 
 
 330OitS. — Sure. 
 
 BOOKS, as Dryden has aptly termed them, are spectacles 
 to read Nature, ^schylus and Aristotle, Shakespeare 
 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. 
 
 380011^. — Fuller. 
 
 THOU mayst as well expect to grow stronger by always 
 eating as wiser by always reading. Too much over- 
 charges Nature, and turns more into disease than nourish- 
 ment. 'Tis thought and digestion which makes Books 
 serviceable, and gives health and vigour to the miad. 
 
 3SO0S^. — Oreville. 
 
 THE man who only relates what he has heard or read, 
 or talks of sensible men and sensible Books in general 
 terms, or of celebrated passages in celebrated Authors, 
 may talk about sense; but he alone, who speaks the 
 sentiments that arise from the force of liis own mind era- 
 ployed upon the subjects before him, can talk sense. 
 
3 8 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 3S00lfe^. — Clarendon. 
 
 HE who loves not Books before lie come to thirty 
 years of age, will hardly love them enough afterwards 
 to understand them. 
 
 — Coiton. 
 
 MANY Books reqmre 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 valuable, that set our tliinking 
 faculties ia the fullest operation. Eor as the solar light 
 caUs forth all the latent powers and dormant priuciples 
 of vegetation contained in the kernel, but wluch, without 
 such a stimulus, would neither have struck root down- 
 wards, nor borne fruit upwards, so it is with the Light 
 that is inteUectual ; it calls forth and awakens into energy 
 those latent principles of thought in the minds of others, 
 wliich, without this stimulus, reflection would not have 
 matured, nor examination improved, nor action embodied. 
 
 3300]fcS. — Shenstone. 
 
 WHEN self-interest inchnes a man to print, he should 
 consider that the purchaser expects a penny-woi'th 
 for Ills penny, and has reason to asperse his honesty if he 
 finds himself deceived. 
 
 ^BorrOiohtfl. — Shakespeare. 
 Neither a Borrower, nor a Lender be ; 
 Eor Loan oft loses both itself and friend ; 
 And BoiTOwing duUs the edge of husbandry. 
 
 SCIje 3B0ttIe. — Johnson. 
 
 IN the Bottle, discontent seeks for comfort, cowardice 
 for courage, and baslifulness for confidence. 
 
 ^Sraflflart. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 Heee's a Stay, 
 That shakes the rotten carcase of old Death 
 Out of liis rags ! Here's a large Mouth, indeed, 
 That spits forth Death, and Mountains, Kocks, and Seas ; 
 Talks as famiharly of roaring Lions, 
 As Maids of thirteen do of Puppy-Dogs ! 
 What Cannoneer begot tliis lusty Blood ? 
 He speaks plain Cannon, Eire and Smoke, and Bounce ; 
 He gives the Bastinado with his Tongue ; 
 Our ears are cudgel' d. 
 
OR, TEINGS NEW AND OLD. 39 
 
 33utTlftns. — Kett. 
 
 NEVER 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. 
 3Su^to^^. — Saville. 
 
 A MAN, who cannot mind his own Business, is not tG 
 be trusted with the Kmg's. 
 
 — Steele. 
 
 TO men addicted to dehghts, Business is an interruption; 
 to such as are cold to dehghts, Business is an enter- 
 tainment. For which reason it was said to one who 
 commended a duU man for his Apphcation, "No thanks to 
 him ; if he had no Business, he would have nothmg to do." 
 %Vi^i\Xtii> — Shakespeare. 
 To Business that we love, we rise betime, 
 And go to it with dehght. 
 
 %n^imii. — Swift. 
 
 MEN of great parts are often unfortunate in the man- 
 agement of pubhe Business, because they are apt 
 to go out of the common road by the quickness of their 
 imagination. 
 
 Calm. — Moore. 
 
 HOW calm, how beautiful comes on 
 The stilly Horn-, when Storms are gone 5 
 Wlien wan-ing Winds have died away. 
 And Clouds, .beneath the glancing ray, 
 Melt off, and leave the Land and Sea 
 Sleeping in bright Ti-anqmhity, — 
 When the blue Waters rise and fall, 
 In sleepy Sunslhne manthng all ; 
 And ev'n that Swell the Tempest leaves, 
 Is hke the full and silent Heaves 
 Of Lovers' Hearts, when newly blest, 
 Too newly to be quite at rest ! 
 
 Calm. — Moore. 
 ?mWAS one of those ambrosial eves 
 X A day of Storm so often leaves 
 At its cahn setting— when the West 
 Opens her golden Bowers of Eest, 
 And a moist radiance from the skies 
 Shoots trembhng down, as from the eyes 
 
40 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS ; 
 
 Of some meek penitent, whose last 
 Bright hours atone for dark ones past, 
 And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, 
 Sliine, as they fall, with light from Heaven ! 
 
 Calltmnj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 BE thoii as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt 
 not escape Calumny, 
 
 Calunmg, — Shahespeare. 
 
 THE Shrug, the Hum, or Ha ; these petty brands, 
 That Calumny doth use ; — 
 
 Eor Calumny will sear 
 Vu'tue itself: — the Shrugs, these Hums, and Ha's, 
 Wlien you have said, she's goodly, come between, 
 Ere you can say, she's honest. 
 
 Canif0Ur» — ShaJcesjpeare. 
 
 I HOLD it cowardice 
 To rest mistrustful where a noble Heart 
 Hath pawn'd an open Hand in sign of Love. 
 
 Cant. — ShaTcespeare. 
 'Tis too much prov'd, — that, with Devotion's Visage, 
 And pious Action, we do sugar o'er 
 The Devil himself. 
 
 €Wj}iia\X^mii. — Chesterfield. 
 
 AYTJLGrAR Man is captious and jealous ; eager and 
 impetuous about trifles. He sxispects himself to be 
 i shghted, and thinks everytliing that is said meant at him. 
 
 j Car0, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 CAEE keeps his Watch in every old Man's eye, 
 And where Care lodges. Sleep will never lie ; 
 I But where unbruised Youth with luistuff'd brain 
 j Doth couch his limbs, there golden Sleep doth reign. 
 
 CaiT. — Burns. 
 
 BUT himian bodies are sic fools. 
 For a' then' colleges and schools, 
 That when nae real ills perplex them. 
 They make enow themsels'-to vex them. 
 
 Car^. — Shakespeare. 
 Caee is no cm-e, but rather corrosive, 
 For tilings that are not to be remedied. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 41 
 
 Cart. — Spenser. 
 
 EUDE was Hs garment, and to rags all rent, 
 Ne better had he, ne for better car'd ; 
 With blistered hands emongst the cinders brent, 
 And fingers filtliie, 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 pm-pose yron wedges made : 
 Those be imquiet thoughts that careful Minds invade. 
 
 SttnslM €nxti. — Shakespeare. 
 
 GIVES not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade 
 To shepherds, looking on then' sLUy sheep, 
 Than doth a rich embroidered canopy 
 To Kmgs, that fear their subjects' treachery ? 
 O, 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 dehcates. 
 His viands spai'kling in a golden cup. 
 His body couched in a curious bed, 
 When Care, Mistrust, and Treason, wait on him. 
 
 Cattle of an ^mSti. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 HE that of greatest works is Fuiisher 
 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 Despau' most sits. 
 It is not so with Him that all things knows. 
 As 'tis with us that square oui- guess by shows : 
 But most it is presumption in us, when 
 The help of Heaven we comt the act of Men. 
 
 CautuJtt. — Fublius Syrius. 
 
 IT is a good thing to learn Caution by the misfortunes 
 of others. 
 
41 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CautUin. — S7iaJces;peare. 
 Things, done well, 
 And witli a Care, exempt themselves from feai : 
 Things, done without Example, in their issue 
 Ai'e to be fear'd. 
 
 C^fe^tt'al <^^tti^. — Cicero. 
 
 IPEECEIYE you contemplate the seat and habitation 
 of men ; which, if it appears as httle to you as it really 
 is, fix your eyes perpetually upon heavenly Objects, and 
 despise earthly. 
 
 f&tniWXt. — Pope. 
 
 WE ought in humanity no more to despise a man for 
 the misfortunes of the mind than for those of the 
 body, when they are such as he cannot help. 
 
 (iLtnSUVZ. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 FEW persons have sufficient wisdom to prefer Censure 
 which is useftd to them, to Praise which deceives 
 them. 
 
 (SLmiWXt. — Young. 
 
 HORACE appears in good humoiir while he censures 
 and therefore his Censure has the more weight, as 
 supposed to proceed from Judgment, not from Passion. 
 
 Ccrwimn^. — Shakespeare. 
 Ceremony 
 Was but devis'd at fii-st to set a gloss 
 On faint deeds, hollow welcomes. 
 But where there is true friendsliip, there needs none. 
 
 Ccrmang. — Sare. 
 
 FOEMS and Eegularity of Proceeding, if they are not 
 justice, partake much of the natui-e of justice, which, 
 in its highest sense, is the spirit of distributive Order. 
 
 Cmm0na. — SeUen. 
 
 CEEEMONY keeps up tilings ; 'tis hke a penny glass 
 to a rich spirit, or some excellent water ; without it 
 the water were spilt, and the spu-it lost. 
 
 Cn-einanu. — Steele. 
 
 AS Cereniony is the invention of wise men to keep fools 
 at a distance, so Good-breeding is an expedient to 
 make fools and wise men equals. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 43 
 
 Ceremong. — Chesterfield. 
 
 ALL Ceremonies are in themselyes very silly tilings; 
 but yet a man of the world should know them. 
 They are the outworks of manners and decency, whicli 
 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 coxcombs 
 with great Ceremony ; true Good-breeding not being a 
 suiScient barrier against them. 
 
 Cercmnttg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OHAED condition, and twin-bom with greatness, 
 Subject to breath of ev'ry fool, whose sense 
 No more can feel but Ms own wringing. 
 What infinite heart-ease must Kings neglect, 
 That private Men enjoy ? and what have Kings, 
 That Privates have not too, save Ceremony ? 
 
 Save gen'ral Ceremony? 
 
 And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony ? 
 Wliat kind of Grod art thou ? that suffer' st more 
 Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers. 
 Wliat are thy rents ? what are thy comings-ui ? 
 O Ceremony, show me but thy worth ; 
 What is thy toU, O Adoration ? 
 Art, thou ought else but Place, Degree and Eorm, 
 Creating awe and fear in other men ? 
 Wherem 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 ? O 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 flexm-e and low bending ? 
 
 Canst thou, when thou command' st the beggar's knee. 
 
 Command the health of it ? no, thou proud dream, 
 
 That play'st so subtly with a King's repose. 
 
 CTjattCe. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE generahty of men have, like plants, latent pro- 
 perties, which Chance brings to hght. 
 
 Chance. — Terence. 
 
 HOW often events, by Chance, and unexpectedly coma 
 to pass, which you had not dared even to hope for ! 
 
44- ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TB UTS; 
 
 CI)auSC. — Johnson. 
 
 SUCH are the Vicissitudes of the World, through all 
 its parts, that day and night, labour and rest, hurry 
 and retirenient, endear each other : such are the Changes 
 that keep the mind in action : we desire, we pursue, we 
 obtain, we are satiated; we desire sometliing else, and 
 begin a new pxirsuit. 
 
 C^M^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 
 Eeign in all bosoms, that each heart being set 
 On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, 
 And Darkness be the burier of the Dead ! 
 
 C^aratter. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HIS real Habitude gave life and grace 
 To appertainings and to ornament, 
 Accomphsh'd in himself, not in his case : 
 AU aids themselves made fairer by their place. 
 Came for additions, yet their pui-pos'd trim 
 Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by liiui. 
 So on the tip of liis subduing tongue 
 AH 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 diiferent skill, 
 Catching all passions in his craft of wiU ; 
 That he did in the general bosom reign 
 Of yo\ing, of old ; and sexes both enchanted. 
 
 Cljarattcr. — Sir William Temple. 
 rpHE best rules to form a young man are, to talk httle, 
 _-L to hear much, to reflect alone upon what has passed 
 in company, to distrust one's own opinions, and value 
 others that deserve it. 
 
 Cl^aractn*. — Chesterfield. 
 
 WHEN upon a trial a Man calls witnesses to his 
 Character, and those witnesses only say, tliat they 
 never heard, nor do not know anything ill of liim, it inti- 
 mates at best a neutral and insignificant Character. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Character. — Merkel. 
 
 ORDINARY people regard a man of a certain force and 
 inflexibility of Oliaracter as they do a lion. They 
 look at liim with a sort of wonder — perhaps they admire 
 him ; but they wiU on no account house with him. The 
 lap-dog, who wags his tail and hcks the hand, and cringes 
 at the nod of every stranger, is a much more acceptable 
 companion to them. 
 
 ©]^aracter. — Melmoth. 
 
 WERE I to make trial of any person's quahfications 
 for an union of so much dehcacy, 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 
 fi-equently 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, 
 
 Cl^aractcr. — Shakespeare. 
 He sits 'mongst men, hke a descended Grod ; 
 He hath a kind of honour sets him off, 
 More than a mortal seeming. 
 
 Character. — Shakespeare. 
 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. 
 
 CJjaractCT. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 I WILL no more trust him when he leers, than I will a 
 serpent, when he hisses : he will spend his mouth, and 
 promise, hke Brabler the hound : but when he performs, 
 astronomers foretell it : it is prodigious, there wih come 
 some change; the sim borrows of the moon, when he 
 keeps his word. 
 
 Cijaractcr. — Bruyere. 
 
 THERE are peculiar ways in men, wliich discover what 
 they are, through the most subtle feinvs and closest 
 disguises. 
 
46 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTK; 
 
 Cljaractn:. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THERE are a sort of men, whose visages 
 Do cream and mantle lite 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, 
 Eor saying nothing ; who, I am very sm'e, 
 If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, 
 Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 
 
 Cibaratter. — Lavater. 
 
 ACTIONS, looks, words, steps, form the alphabet by 
 which you may spell Characters. 
 
 C^aratter. — SMleespeare. 
 
 NATURE hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : 
 Some, that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
 And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper j 
 And other of such vinegar aspect. 
 That they'U not show their teeth in way of smile, 
 Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 
 
 Character. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 O, he's as tedious 
 As is a tir'd horse, a raiting wife ; 
 Worse than a smoky house : — I had rather live 
 With cheese and garKc, in a windmiU, far, 
 Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me. 
 In any summer-house in Christendom. 
 
 Cl^aracter. — Lavater. 
 
 YOU may depend upon it that he is a good man whose 
 intimate friends are all good. 
 
 Character. — Shahespeare. 
 
 REPUTATION, repiitation, reputation! O, I have 
 lost my reputation ! I have lost the immortal part 
 of myself; and what remains is bestial. 
 
 Character. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 REPUTATION oft got without merit, and lost with- 
 out deserving. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 47 
 
 Character. — Socrates 
 
 THE way to gain a good Reputation is to endeavour to 
 be vrliat you desire to appear. 
 
 Cl^aracto. — Shakespeare. 
 
 This is lie 
 That Mss'd away his hand in courtesy ; 
 This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, _ 
 That, when he plays at tables, cliides 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. 
 
 Cljaractcr. — Coiton. 
 
 THE two most precious things on this side the grave 
 are our Eeputation 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, wiH be more anxious to deserve a fair 
 name than to possess it, and this wiU teach him so to live, 
 as not to be afraid to die. 
 
 Cl^aractcr. — Shakespeare. 
 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 quahty of persons and the time ; 
 And, like the haggard, check at every feather 
 That comes before his eye. This is a practice, 
 As fuU of labour as a wise man's art ; 
 For foUy, that he wisely shows, is fit ; 
 But wise men, folly fallen, quite taiut their wit. 
 
 Cl^aractfr. — Fuller. 
 
 GET and preserve a good name, if it were but for the 
 pubhc service : for one of a deserved Eeputation hath 
 oftentimes an opportunity to do that good, which another 
 cannot that wants it. And he may practise it with more 
 securiiy and success. 
 
 Character. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE vriU steal himself into a man's favoiir, and, for a 
 week, escape a great deal of discoveries ; but when 
 you find him out, you have him ever after. 
 
48 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Cijaracter. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THOTJ wilt quarrel with a man tliat hath a hair more, 
 or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Thou 
 wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, haying no other 
 reason but because thou hast hazel eyes ; what eye, but 
 such an eye, woxild spy out such a quarrel ? Thy head is 
 as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat. 
 
 Character. — 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 paletts 
 set with colom-s ; they are either excellent at home and 
 intolerable abroad, or insufferable witliin doors and ex- 
 cellent in pubhc ; 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 wUl be incomparable. 
 
 Ci^aracter. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Spare in diet ; 
 Free from gross passion, or of mhth, or anger ; 
 Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood ; 
 Garnish' d and deck'd with modest comphment ; 
 Not working with the eye, without the ear. 
 And, but in purged judgment, trusting neither, 
 
 Ci^aract^r. — Addison. 
 
 PEOPLE of gloomy, tmcheerful imaginations, or of 
 envious, mahgnant tempers, whatever kind of hfe 
 they are engaged in, will discover their natiu-al tinc- 
 ture of mind in all their thoughts, words, and actions. 
 As the finest wines have often the taste of the soU, so 
 even the most rehgious thoughts often di-aw sometliing 
 that is particvilar from the constitution of the mind in 
 which they arise. When foUy or superstition strikes in 
 with this natm-al depravity of temper, it is not in the 
 power even of rehgion itself to preserve the Character of 
 the person who is possessed with it from appearing higlily 
 absurd and ridiculous. ^ 
 
 d^aracter. — From the French. 
 
 A MAN'S Character is hke his Shadow, which some- 
 times follows, and sometimes precedes liim, and which 
 is occasionally longer, occasionally shorter than he is. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 49 
 
 Character. — Seneca. 
 
 SOME men, like Pictures, are fitter for a comer than a 
 fall Hght. 
 
 C!)aracter. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THIS man liath robbed many beasts of their xjarticular 
 additions ; he is as valiant as a lion, churlish as a 
 bear, slow as the elephant: a man, into whom nature 
 hath so crowded hiimours, that liis valour is crushed into 
 foUy, his foUy 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 
 melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair : he 
 hath the joints of every tiling ; but every thing so out of 
 joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no 
 use ; or purbhnd Argus, all eyes and no sight. 
 
 Ct)aracter. — Amn. 
 
 MANY persons carry about their Characters in their 
 hands ; not a few under their feet. 
 
 Cl)aractcr. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 BEING- not propp'd by ancestry (whose grace 
 Chalks successors their way), neither alhed 
 To eminent assistants, but, spider-hke, 
 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. 
 
 C^^atacter. — Shahespea/re. 
 
 THEEE can be no kernel iu this light nut ; the Soul of 
 this man is liis Clothes. 
 
 Cl^aracto. — Shakespeare. 
 
 He has been bred i' the wars 
 Since he coidd draw a sword, and is tU-school'd 
 In boulted language ; meal and bran together 
 He throws without distinction. 
 
 C-i^aracter. — Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 NEVER get a Reputation for a small perfection, if you 
 are trying for fame in a loftier area. The world can 
 only judge by generals, and it sees that those who pay 
 considerable attention to minutiae, seldom have their 
 Minds occupied with great things. There are, it is true, 
 exceptions j but to exceptions the world does not attend. 
 
50 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Character. — Sare. 
 
 THEEE is a glare about worldly success, wMcli is very 
 apt to dazzle men's eyes. "Wlien we see a man rising 
 in the world ; thriring in business ; successful in Ms 
 speculations ; if lie be a man out of our own line, who 
 does not come mto competition with vis, so as to make ixs 
 jealous of liim, we are too apt to foi-m a foohshly high 
 opinion of his merits. We are apt to say withia ourselves, 
 "What a wonderful man tliis must be, to rise so rapidly!" 
 forgetting that dust and straw, and feathers, things with 
 neither weight nor value in them, rise the soonest and the 
 easiest. In hke 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 kuid 
 can hardly fail of getting on in the world : yet with aU 
 this, he may not have a grain of real G-reatness about him. 
 He may be all I have described, and yet have no G-reatness 
 of Mind, no G-reatness of Soul. He may be utterly with- 
 out Sympathy and feUow feeling for others ; he may be 
 uttei-ly devoid of aU true Wisdom ; he may be without 
 Piety and without Charity ; without Love, that is, either 
 for God or Man. 
 
 (iCIiaracto. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 THE pm-est treasure mortal times afford, 
 Is — spotless Reputation ; that away, 
 Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. 
 CTjaratto:. — FranUin. 
 
 THE most triflhig actions that affect a man's Credit are 
 to be regarded. 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 BUhard table, or hears your voice at a Tavern, when you 
 should be at work, he sends for his money the next day.- 
 
 CI)atatto. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LOOK, as I blow tliis feather fi-om my face, 
 And as the air blows it to me again, 
 Obeying with my wmd when I do blow, 
 And yielding to another when it blows. 
 Commanded always by the greater gust ; 
 Such is the hghtuess of you Common Men. 
 
Olt, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 51 
 
 Cljaractcr. — CoUon. 
 
 DUKE Cliartres used to boast that no man could have 
 less real value for Character than himself, yet he 
 would gladly give twenty thousand poimds for a good 
 one, because he could immediately make double that sum 
 by means of it. 
 
 (!Di)aracta:. — GoUon. 
 
 THE most consistent men are not more unlike to others 
 than they are at times to themselves ; therefore, it is 
 I'idiculous to see Character-mongers drawing a fiill-length 
 Likeness of some great men, and jDcrplexing themselves 
 and their readers by making every feature of his Conduct 
 strictly Conform to those hnes and lineaments which they 
 have laid down ; they generally find or make for him some 
 Ruling Passion the rudder of his course ; btit with all this 
 pother about Euling Passions, the fact is, that all men 
 and aU women have but one apparent Good. Those, 
 mdeed, are the strongest Minds, and are capable of the 
 greatest actions, who possess a telescopic power of in- 
 tellectual vision, enabling them to ascertain the real mag- 
 nitude and importance of distant goods, and to despise 
 those which are indebted for all theu' grandeur solely to 
 their contiguity. 
 
 Character. — ShaTcespeare. 
 In war was never Lion raged more fierce. 
 In peace was never gentle Lamb more mild. 
 C^^aractcr. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 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 Smi. 
 
 Character. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 TO be generous, gmltless, and of free disposition, is to 
 take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem can- 
 non-bidlets. There is no slander in an allowed Fool, 
 though he do notliing but rail ; nor no railing in a known 
 Discreet Man, though he do nothing but reprove. 
 
 Ci)aracto. — La 'Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WHATEVER Disgrace we have merited, it is ahnost 
 always in our power to re-estabhsh our Reputation. 
 
52 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 Character. — Shakespeare. 
 Best Men oft are moiilded out of Faults. 
 
 Cl^aractar. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 HOW wonderfully beautiful is the delineation of the 
 Characters of the tliree Patriarchs in Grenesis ! To 
 be sure, if ever man could, without impropriety, be called, 
 or su]oposed to be, " the fi-iend of G-od," Abraham was 
 that man. We are not surprised that Abimelech and 
 Ephi'on seem to reverence him so profoundly. He was 
 peaceful, because of his conscious relation to Grod. 
 
 C^aract^r. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 GOOD Name, in man, and woman. 
 Is the immediate jewel of their souls. 
 Who steals my pm'se, steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing; 
 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands : 
 But he, that filches from me my Grood Name, 
 Robs me of that, wMch not enriches him, 
 And makes me poor indeed. 
 
 <SL\)KXKtttt. — Shakespeare. 
 He reads much : 
 He is a great Observer, and he looks 
 Quite tlu'ough the deeds of men : he loves no plays j 
 He hears no music : 
 
 Seldom he smiles ; and smiles in such a sort. 
 As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spu-it 
 That could be mov'd to smile at any thing. 
 
 Character. — Shakespeare. 
 
 A HUNQ-EY lean-fac'd Yihain, 
 A mere Anatomy, a Mountebank, 
 A thread-bare Juggler, and a Fortune-teUer ; 
 A needy, hoUow-ey'd, sharp-looking Wretch, 
 A living dead Man ; this pernicious Slave, 
 Foi'sooth, took on him as a Conjurer ; 
 And gazing in mine eyes, feehng my pulse, 
 And with no face, as 'twere, out-facing mc. 
 
 Cl^aracter. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LET me have Men about me that are fat ; 
 Sleek-headed Men, and such as sleep o' nights : 
 Yond' Cassius has a lean and himgry look ; 
 He tliinks too much : such Men are dangerous. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 53 
 
 CI)atacttr. — ShaJcespeare. 
 I KNOW liim a notorious Liar, 
 Think Mm a great way Eool, solely a Coward ; 
 Yet these iix'd evils sit so fit in him, 
 That they take place, when Virtue's steely bones 
 Look bleak in the cold wind : withal, fuU oft we see 
 Cold Wisdom waiting on superfluous Folly. 
 
 (SJf^KXiXv, — Spenser. 
 Good is no good but if it be spend : 
 Grod giveth good for none other end. 
 
 (!Ci)arit2. — Byron. 
 The drying up a single tear has more 
 Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. 
 
 Cljarttg. — Fope. 
 
 IN Faith and Hope, the world will disagree. 
 But all mankind's concern is Charity : 
 AH must be false that thwart this one great end ; 
 And all of G-od, that bless mankiad, or mend. 
 
 Cl^aritg. — Colton. 
 
 POSTHUMOUS Charities are the very essence of Self 
 ishness, when bequeathed by those who, when alive, 
 would part with nothing. 
 
 C^arttg. — Seneca. 
 
 A PHYSICIAN is not angry at the intemperance of a 
 mad patient, nor does he take it iU to be railed at by 
 a man in a fever. Just so should a wise man treat all 
 mankind, as a physician does liis patient, and look upon 
 them only as sick and extravagant. 
 
 Ci^arttj). — Shakespeare. 
 Gently to hear, kindly to judge. 
 
 SnijC (iDi^arlatan. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE now, forsooth, takes on him to reform 
 Some certain edicts, and some strait decrees. 
 That he 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 wia 
 The hearts of aU that he did angle for. 
 
54 ILLUSTBATIOm OF TBUTH; 
 
 C^Jt^tttg. — ShaJcespeare. 
 The Heavens hold firm 
 The walls of thy dear Honour ; keep unshak'd 
 That Temple, thy fair Mmd. 
 
 Cl^a^tltg. — ShaJcespeare, 
 YoTJ seem to me as Dian m her orb ; 
 As chaste as is the btid ere it be blown. 
 
 Ci^a^tltj). — Saville. 
 
 A CLOSE Behavioiir is the fittest to reeeiye Virtue for 
 its constant guest, because there, and there only, it 
 can be sectu'e. Proper Reserves are the outworks, and 
 must never be deserted by those who intend to keep the 
 place; they keep oif the possibihties 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 hberty. She, who wiU 
 aUow herself to go to the utmost extent of every tiling 
 that is lawful, is so very near gomg further, that those 
 who He at watch will begin to count upon her. 
 
 (£Ji)tsxl\i\ntii. — Fope. 
 
 WHAT then remains, but well our power to use, 
 And keep Good Humour stiU, whate'er we lose ? 
 And trust me, dear, Grood Humour can prevail, 
 Wlien 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. 
 
 (!L\^ZUi\X\\\tii, — Montaigne. 
 
 THE most manifest sign of Wisdom is continued Cheer- 
 fulness. 
 
 €l)ttvMntSS. — Steele. 
 
 CHEEEEULNESS 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 for it ; for 
 those tempers who want Mirth to be pleased, are hke 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 inactive. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 55 
 
 Cl)m-Ml«^^. — Collins. 
 
 WHEN Cheerfulness, a nympli of healthiest hue, 
 Her bow across her shoulders flung, 
 Her buskins gemm'd with moruLng dew. 
 
 Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung. 
 <SJ^tttl^x\x^tii. — Colton. 
 
 CHEEEFULNESS ought to be the viaticum vitce of 
 their hfe to the old ; age without Cheerfulness, is a 
 Lapland winter without a sun ; and tliia spirit of Cheer- 
 fulness should be encoui-aged m our youth, if we would 
 wish to have the benefit of it in our old age ; time will 
 make a generous wiue more mellow ; but it will turn that 
 wliich is early ou the fret, to viaegar. 
 
 €^etYlulntii. — Seneca. 
 
 TRUE 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. 
 
 €f)texhx\mS^» — Horace. 
 
 THE Mind that is cheerful ia its present state, will be 
 averse to all solicitude as to the future, and wiU meet 
 the bitter occmTences of Life with a placid Smile. 
 
 €titexMntSS. — Flint/. 
 
 AS in our hves, so also in our studies, it is most be- 
 coming and most wise, so to temper Grravity witli 
 Cheerfulness, that the former may not imbue our Minds 
 with Melancholy, nor the latter degenerate into Licen- 
 tiousness. 
 
 Cl^m*fttlU0^^. — Massinger. 
 CHEERFUii looks make every dish a feast, 
 And 'tis that crowns a welcome. 
 
 (IS^tZXiVLlntii. — Spenser. 
 A ND her against sweet Cheerfulnesse was placed, 
 -□L Whose eyes hke twinkling stars in evening cleare, 
 Were deckt with smyles, and all sad Humours chased, 
 And darted forth Delights, the which her goodly grac'd. 
 
 Ci^tiftUfl. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
56 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 C^tDj. — Byron. 
 
 BUT thou wilt burst this transient sleep, 
 And thou wilt wake, my Babe, to weep ; 
 The tenant of a frail abode, 
 Thy tears miist flow, as mine have flow'd : 
 Beguil'd by follies every day, 
 Sorrow must wash the faults away, 
 And thou may'st wake perchance to prove 
 The pang of um-equited love. 
 
 Clje C^tKf. — Camplell. 
 
 LO ! at the couch whei'e Infant Beauty sleeps, 
 Her silent watch the mournfud Mother keeps : 
 She, while the lovely Babe imconscious Hes, 
 Smiles on her slumbering Child with pensive eyes, 
 And weaves a song of melancholy joy — 
 " Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy : 
 No Hngering 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 fihal love at last. 
 Shall soothe this acliing heart for all the past — 
 With many a smile my sohtude repay, 
 And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away." 
 
 K^t C^tTJj. — Rogers. 
 
 THE hour arrives, the moment wish'd and fear'd ; 
 The Child is bom, by many a pang endear' d. 
 And now the IVLother'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 bahn of life, and drops to rest. 
 
 (SDIltKf. — Byron. 
 
 TO aid thy Mind's development, — to watch 
 Thy da-\vn of Httle Joys, — to sit and see 
 Almost tiiy very Growth, — to view thee catch 
 Knowledge of objects, — wonders yet to thee j 
 To hold thee hghtly on a gentle knee. 
 And print on thy soft cheek a Parent's kiss ;— 
 This, it should seem, was not resei-ved for me ! 
 Yet tliis was in my nature : — as it is, 
 I know not what is there, yet something hke to tliis 
 
Oit, THINGS NEW AND OLB. 57 
 
 (!DIJtl^r. — Byron. 
 
 SWEET be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea, 
 And from the momitains 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 ! 
 
 LOOK ! how he laughs and stretches out his arms, 
 And opens wide lus blue eyes upon thine, 
 To hail his Father : wliile liis little form 
 Flutters as wing'd with joy. Talk not of pain ! 
 The cliildless 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. 
 
 C^)^^fl^0a^f. — Mshop Harle. 
 
 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 blun-ed note-book. He is purely happy, be- 
 cause 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 ex- 
 ample, and the old man's relapse ; the one imitates his 
 pureness, and the other falls into his simphcity. Could he 
 put off his body with his httle coat, he had got eternity vsTith- 
 out a biu-den, and exchanged but one heaven for another. 
 
 (!ri)iBJ1^0Otf. — Byron. 
 He smiles, and sleeps ! — sleep on 
 And smile, thou httle, young Inheritor 
 Of a world scarce less young ; sleep on, and smile ! 
 Thine are the hours and days when both are cheering 
 And innocent ! 
 
 (!i:5iMj00if. — Scott. 
 
 THE Tear, down Cliildhood's cheek that flows, 
 Is hke the dew-drop on the Rose ; 
 Wlien next the Summer breeze comes by, 
 And waves the bush, the Flower is diy. 
 
S8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CtltPlrtn. — Thomson. 
 
 LOOK here and weep with tenderness and transport ! 
 What is all tasteless luxury to this ? 
 To these best joys, which holy Lore bestows ? 
 Oh Nature, parent Nature, thou alone 
 Art the true judge of what can make us happy. 
 
 Cljtltfren. — Greville. 
 
 I HARDLY know so melancholy a reflection, as that 
 Parents are necessarily the sole dh-ectors of the man- 
 agement of Children; whether they have, or have not, 
 judgment, penetration, or taste, to perform the task. 
 
 ((D^inirClT. — Cicero. 
 
 WHAT gift has Providence bestowed on Man, that is 
 so dear to him as his Children ? 
 
 Cl)tnjrcn. — Oelilensclildger. 
 
 THE plays of natm-al hvely Children are the infancy of 
 art. Children hve in the world of imagination and 
 feehng. They invest the most insignificant object with 
 any form they please, and see in it whatever they wish 
 to see. 
 
 OjtHfrcn. — Thomson, 
 
 MEANTIME a smiling Ofl'spring rises round. 
 And mingles both their graces. By degrees. 
 The H\man Blossom blows ; and every day, 
 Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm. 
 
 (SJ^aitt flf HtfC. — Cicero. 
 
 THE. number is small of those persons, who, either by 
 extraordinary pre-eminence of genius, or by superior 
 erudition and knowledge, or who, endowed with either of 
 these, have enjoyed the privilege of dehberately deciding 
 what Mode of Life they would the most wish to embrace. 
 
 Wiyt Ct)Olcrtc. — Fuller. 
 
 THOSE Passionate Persons who carry their heart in 
 then* mouth are rather to be pitied than feared ; their 
 threatenings serving no other pm'pose than to foreai'm 
 him that is thi-eatened. 
 
 Cl^rt^ttanttj). — Anon. 
 
 THEEE 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 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 59 
 
 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 pnfEng them 
 lip, humbles them. But to be efficient, this should ilow 
 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 ascendiag along it. 
 
 Christianity. — CoUon. 
 
 PUBLIC Charities and benevolent Associations for the 
 gratuitous Relief of eveiy species of Distress, are 
 pectdiar to Christianity; no other system of civil or re- 
 ligious pohcy has originated them ; they form its highest 
 praise and characteristic feature. 
 
 Ctfillttg. — Tillotson. 
 
 AGrOOD "Word is an easy Obligation ; but not to 
 speak lU, requires only our silence, wliich costs us 
 nothing. 
 
 Clfetlltj). — Chesterfield. 
 
 THE iasolent Civihty of a proud man is, if possible, 
 more shocking than his Rudeness could be; because 
 lie shows you, by his Manner, that he tliiuks it mere 
 Condescension in him ; and that his goodness alone be- 
 stows upon you what you have no pretence to claim. 
 
 Ct6lltjatt0n. — BurJce. 
 
 WE are but too apt to consider tilings in the state in 
 which we find them, without sufficiently adverting 
 to the causes by wliich they have been produced, and 
 ! possibly may be upheld. Nothing is more certaia than 
 that our Manners, om- CivHization, and all the good 
 things which are connected v.ith CivUization, have, in 
 I this Eiu-opean world of om-s, depended for ages upon 
 two principles ; and were indeed the result of both com- 
 bmed ; I mean the spirit of a Grentleman and the spirit 
 of Rehgion. The ISTobUity 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. Learnmg paid back what it received to Nobility 
 and Priesthood, and paid it with usury, by enlarging their 
 ideas and by furnishing their minds. 
 
6o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CtfatltjattOn. — Hare. 
 
 THE ultimate tendency of CiTilization, is toward Bar- 
 barism. 
 
 Ctbll{|at{0lt. — Colton. 
 
 ALL nations that hare reached the liighest point of 
 Civilization, may from that hour assume for their 
 motto, videri quam esse. And whenever and wherever 
 we see Ostentation substituted for Happiness, Profession 
 for Fi-iendship, Formahty for Eehgion, Pedantry for 
 Learning, Buffoonery for Wit, Artifice for Natm-e, 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 Eefinement. 
 
 Ct6{It|atUJn. — Sare. 
 
 nHRISTIANITY has carried Civilization along with 
 VJ it, whithersoever it has gone : and, as if to show that 
 the latter does not depend on physical causes, some of 
 the countries the most civihzed in the days of Augustus 
 are now in a state of hopeless Barbarism. 
 
 dLMlilKtian, — Colton. 
 
 A SEMI-CIVILIZED state of Society, equaUy removed 
 fr'om the extremes of Barbarity and of Eefinement, 
 seems to be that particular meridian under which aU the 
 reciprocities and gratuities of hospitality do most readily 
 flom-ish and aboimd. For it so happens that the ease, 
 the luxiiry, and the abundance of the Jdghest state of 
 Civihzation, are as productive of selfishness, as the dif- 
 ficulties, the privations, and the sterihties of the lowest. 
 
 €ltmi\ilXtSi. — Thomson. 
 Etew from the Body's Pmity, the Mind 
 Eeceives a secret sympatlietic aid. 
 
 dLlitmtZ. — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 OUE Countiy must be confessed to be, what a great 
 foreign Physician called it, the region of spleen; 
 which may arise a good deal fi-om 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 
 beheved by men whose thoughts are not turned to such 
 speculations. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 61 
 
 CItmatC. — Justus Moser. 
 
 THE 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 supphed by these cu*- 
 ciunstances. To these wants, manners, laws, and rehgion 
 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 
 manners of its inhabitants are in various ways modified 
 by its Position. The rehgion of a Miner is not the same 
 as the faith of a Shepherd, nor is the character of the 
 ploughman so warhke as that of the hunter. The ob- 
 servant legislator follows the direction of all these various 
 cu'cumstances. The knowledge of the Natm-al Advantages 
 or Defects of a Country thus form an essential part of 
 pohtical science and history. 
 
 CflmmCnUatt0:i. — Fielding. 
 
 COMMEND a Fool for his Wit, or a Knave for his 
 Honesty, and they wUl receive you mto then' bosom. 
 (!D0nnncrce. — Waller. 
 
 AS Egypt does not on the Clouds rely, 
 But to the Nile owes more than to the sky ; 
 So what our Earth and what our Heaven denies, 
 Om' ever-constant fi-iend, the Sea, supphes. 
 The taste of hot Arabia's spice we know, 
 Free from the scorching Sun that makes it grow ; 
 Without the Worm in Persia's Silks we shine ; 
 And, without planting, drink of every vine. 
 To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs : 
 Gold, though the heaviest metal, hither swims. 
 Ours is the harvest where the Indians mow ; 
 We plough the deep, and reap what others sow. 
 (iLmximtttt. — Addison. 
 
 AWELL-EEG-ULATED Commerce is not, hke law, 
 physic, or divinity, to be over-stocked with hands ; 
 but, on the contraiy, flourishes by multitudes, and give.-! 
 employment to all its professors. 
 
 C0mina:ce. — 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 cout'se, without either aid or 
 check. Let it make its own bed : it wlQ do so better 
 than you can. 
 
62 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <!Lamtt — Thomson. 
 
 LO ! from the dread immensity of space 
 Eetnming, with accelerated coui-se, 
 The rushing Comet to the smi descends : 
 And as he sinks below the shading earth, 
 With awful train projected o'er the heavens, 
 The giiilty nations tremble. 
 
 C0nTjpanian^i)tji. — Oreviiie. 
 
 OUR Companions please us less from the charms we 
 find in thefr conversation, than fr-om those they find 
 in ours. 
 
 Cflmj)ant0tts'i)tjp, — Lesdng. 
 
 THE most agreeable of aU Companions is a simple, frank 
 man, without any high pretensions to an oppressive 
 greatness ; one who loves hfe, and understands the use of 
 it ; obhgiag, ahke at aU hours ; above ah, of a golden 
 temper, and steadfast as an anchor. Eor such an one we 
 gladly exchange the greatest genius, the most briUiant wit, 
 the profoundest thinker. 
 
 CflntjpanjJ. — Chesterfield. 
 
 NO man can possibly improve in any Company for 
 which he has not respect enough to be imder some 
 degree of restraint. 
 
 tompang. — Lavater. 
 
 THE fi'eer you feel yourself in the presence of another, 
 the more free is he. 
 
 Contjans. — Chesterfield. 
 
 TAKE, rather than give, the tone of the Company you 
 are in. If you have parts, you wUl 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. 
 
 Cnmjiana. — Swift. 
 
 NATURE has left every man a capacity of being 
 agreeable, though not of shining in Company ; and 
 there ai-e a hundred men suificiently quahfied for both 
 who, by a very few faults, that they might correct in half 
 an hour, are not so much as tolerable. 
 
 (!Dflmj)art^0n. — Johnson. 
 
 THE Superiority of some men is merely local. Tliey 
 are great, because their associates are httle. 
 
OB, THINGS NJSW AND OLD. 63 
 
 ■ Comjpar{)Son. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN the Moon shone, we did not see the Candle. 
 So doth the greater glory dim the less j 
 A Substitute shines brightly as a King, 
 Until a King be by ; and then his state 
 Empties itself, as doth an inland Erook 
 Into the Main of Waters. 
 
 ConTJ)art^0n5. — Addison. 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING man's essential Perfection is 
 but veiy little, his comparative Perfection may be 
 very considerable. If he looks upon himself in an ab- 
 stracted hght, 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 vhtues, at least in 
 the absence of another's Imperfections. This gives a 
 dilferent turn to the reflections of the Wise Man and the 
 Eool. The first endeavoiirs to sliine in himself, and the 
 last to outshine others. The first is humbled by the 
 sense of liis own miu-mities, the last is lifted up by the 
 discoveiy of those which he observes in other men. The 
 Wise Man considers what he wants, and the Fool what 
 he abounds in. The Wise Man is happy when he gains 
 Ms ovra approbation, and the Eool when he recommends 
 himself to the applause of those about him. 
 
 Comjllmmit^* — Chesterfield. 
 
 COMPLIMENTS of Congratulation are always kmdly 
 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. 
 
 ConTJ(0^tttOlt. — Colton. 
 
 THE great cause of that dehght we receive from a fine 
 Composition, whether it be in Prose or in Verse, I 
 conceive to be this ; the marvellous and magic power it 
 confers upon the reader; enabling an inferior mind at 
 one glance, and almost vrithout an effort, to seize, to 
 embrace, and to enjoy those remote Combinations of 
 Wit, melting Harmonies of Sound, and vigorous Con- 
 densations of Sense, that cost a superior mind so much 
 perseverance, labour, and time. 
 
 (Sssnttit, — Shahespeare. 
 Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. 
 
64- ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTS ; 
 
 C0n«tt — Colton. 
 
 NONE are so seldom found alone, and are so soon tired 
 of tlieir own company, as those Coxcombs wlio are 
 on the best terms with themselves. 
 
 Conceit. — Pope. 
 
 CONCEIT is to nature what paint is to beauty ; it is 
 not only needless, but impairs what it would improve. 
 
 C0nttItatt0U. — Cicero. 
 
 IT is the part of a prudent man to conciliate the minds 
 of others, and to turn them to his own advantage. 
 
 COtltfUCt. — Shakespeare. 
 G-IVE every man thine ear, but few thy voice : 
 Take each man's censm-e, but resei-ve thy judgments 
 
 CnnlfUCt. — Oremlle. 
 
 IT is not enough that you can form, nay, and follow, the 
 most excellent Eules for Conducting yom-seU" in the 
 world ; you must also know when to deviate from them, 
 and where hes the exception. 
 
 COttlfUCt. — Clarendon. 
 
 IF we do not weigh and consider to what end tliis Hfe 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 ouj- days in the narrowest 
 and most limited signification. 
 
 Contftttt. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 HAVE more than thou showest, 
 Speak less than thou kuowest, 
 Lend less than thou owest. 
 Learn more than thou trowest, 
 Set less than thou throwest. 
 
 COuUtUt. — Epictetus. 
 
 UPON every fresh accident, tiu^n your eyes inward and 
 examine how you are quahfied to encoimter it. If 
 you see any very beautiful person, you wiU find Con- 
 tinence to oppose against the temptation. If labom- and 
 difficulty come in yotu- way, you wiH find a remedy in 
 Hardiness and Resolution. If you lie under the obloquy 
 of an Ul tongue, Patience and Meekness are the proper 
 fences against it. 
 
OB, IRINGS NEW AND OLD. 65 
 
 CoittlUCt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 DEFECT of Manners, want of G-overmnent, 
 Pride, Haughtiness, Opinion, and Disdain : 
 The least of wliich, 
 
 Loseth men's hearts ; and leaves behind a stain 
 Upon the beauty of aU parts besides, 
 Beguiling them of commendation. 
 
 ((Cflnlfttct. — Seneca. 
 
 I WILL govern my Hfe, and my thoughts, as if the 
 whole world were to see the one, and to read the 
 other ; for what does it signify, to make anytliing a secret 
 to my neighbour, when to G-od (who is the searcher of 
 our hearts) all our privacies are open ? 
 
 C0n^^UCt. — Fuller. 
 
 ALL the while thou Hvest ill, thou hast the trouble, 
 distraction, inconveniences of life, but not the sweets 
 and true use of it. 
 
 CaitifUtt. — JSpietetus. 
 
 AS in walking it is your great care not to run your 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 Muid, or offend your Judgment. And this rule, if 
 observed carefully in all your deportment, will be a 
 mighty security to you in yoiu" undertakings. 
 
 C0niJttCt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OBEY 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. 
 
 C0nlfUCt. — Milton. 
 
 Son of Heav'n and Earth, 
 Attend : that thou art happy, owe to Grod ; 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself, 
 That is, to thy Obedience ; therein stand, 
 
 ContfXtCt. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 I 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 Civihty of placid Looks. 
 
66 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 CfluUuct. — Fope. 
 
 WHEN we are young, we are slavislily employed in 
 prociu'ing something whereby we may live com- 
 fortably when we grow old; and when we are old, we 
 perceive it is too late to Hve as we proposed. 
 
 (!D0ttifUtt. — Cotoper. 
 
 Disgust conceal'd 
 Is oft-times proof of Wisdom, when the fault 
 Is obstinatej and cxire beyond our reach. 
 
 CanlfUCt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Selp-iove is not so vile a sin 
 As self-neglecting. 
 
 COtttTltCt. — Joanna JBaillie. 
 
 I WOULD, God knows, in a poor woodman's hut 
 Have spent my peaceful days, and shar'd my cn.ist 
 With her who would have cheer'd me, rather far 
 Than on this Tlu^one ; but being what I am, 
 I'll be it nobly. 
 
 ConUuct. — Byron. 
 
 To what gulphs 
 A single deviation from the track 
 Of Human Duties leads even those who claim 
 The homage of mankind as their bom due, 
 And find it, tiU they forfeit it themselves ! 
 
 CoulfUtt. — Shakespeare, 
 
 Love aU, trust a few, 
 Do wrong to none ; be able for thine Enemy 
 Eather in power, than use : and keep thy Eriend 
 Under thy own life's key ; be check' d for Silence, 
 But never taxed for Speech. 
 
 C0nUttCt. — Milton. 
 
 Only add 
 
 Deeds to thy Knowledge answerable, add Eaith. 
 Add Vu'tue, Patience, Temperance, add Love, 
 Dy name to come call'd Charity, the soul 
 Of all the rest : then wHt thou not be loath 
 To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
 A Paradise witliin thee, happier far. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 67 
 
 (!LmUii\m\, — Fope. 
 
 A MAN should never be asliamed 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. 
 
 C0nfitf£ntE. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Teust not him that hath once broken Faith. 
 C0Ufitf«ltce. — CoUon. 
 
 WHEN young, we trust ourselves too much, and we 
 trust others too little when old. Eashness is the 
 error of Youth, timid caution of Age. Manhood is the 
 isthmus between the two extremes ; the ripe and fertile 
 season of Action, when alone we can hope to find the 
 head to contrive, united with the hand to execute. 
 
 CnnfiTfeuC?. — Lavater. 
 
 TEUST him httle who praises all, him less who censures 
 aU, and him least who is indifferent about all. 
 
 COJT^CtClTCe. — Addison. 
 
 A MAN'S first care should be to avoid the reproaches 
 of his own Heart ; • liis next, to escape the censures 
 of the World. If the last interferes with the former, it 
 ought to be entirely neglected ; but otherwise there can- 
 not be a greater satisfaction to an honest mind, than to 
 see those approbations which it gives itself seconded by 
 the applauses of the pubhc. 
 
 (ILmitimtt. — Colton. 
 
 WE should have all our communications with men, as 
 in the presence of God 5 and with God, as in the 
 presence of men. 
 
 Con^ctcncc. — Colton. 
 
 THE Breast of a good man is a httle heaven commencing 
 on earth ; where the Deity sits enthroned with un- 
 rivalled influence, every subjugated passion, "hke the 
 wind and storm, fudfiUiag Ms word." 
 
 liLOWititXltt, — Fuller. 
 
 BE fearful only of thyself; and stand in awe of none 
 more than of tlune own Conscience. There is a Cato 
 in every man ; a severe Censor of his manners. And he 
 that reverences tliis Judge, wiU seldom do anything he 
 need repent of. 
 
68 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (SLanititntt. — FicMe. 
 
 THE most reckless Sinner against his own Conscience 
 has always in the background the consolation, that 
 he will go on in this coiu-se 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 Con- 
 sciences, so long as we determine, or project, or even hold 
 it possible, at some future time to alter our course of 
 action. 
 
 (SLmitizntt, — South. 
 
 A PALSY may as well shake an oak, or a fever diy up 
 a fountain, as either of them shake, dry up, or impair 
 the delight of Conscience. 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 Ins grave ; he never outlives 
 it, and that for this cause only because he cannot outhve 
 himself. 
 
 dLanStimct, — Horace. 
 
 NOT 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 
 yom'self, now vainly seeking to banish Remorse by wme, 
 and now by sleep ; but the gloomy companion presses on 
 you, and pui'sues you as you fly. 
 
 Cmi^IUrttte. — Slakesfeare. 
 
 Unistattjeal deeds 
 Do breed unnatural troubles : Infected minds 
 To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. 
 
 Con^ctotc^. — South. 
 
 NO man ever offended his own Conscience, but first or 
 last it was revenged upon him for it. 
 
 Con^CtaxcC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 CONSCIENCE, it makes a man a coward ; a man can- 
 not steal, but it accuseth him ; a man cannot swear, 
 but it checks liim ; a man cannot he with his neighbour's 
 wife, but it detects him. 
 
 Cnn^ctence. — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou woiddst be informed what Grod has wi-itten 
 concerning thee in Heaven, look into thine own Bosom, 
 and see what graces he hath there wrought in thee. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 69 
 
 Cnn^CtCnce. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHO would bear the wliips and scorns of Time, 
 The Oppressor's wrong, the Proud Man's contiunclT, 
 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 liimself might his quietus make 
 With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, 
 To grunt and sweat under a weary hfe ; 
 But that the dread of sometliing 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 j 
 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 tliis regard, their ciirrents turn awry, 
 And lose the name of Action. 
 
 ULaxiiiitim, — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 CAN anything be more dreadful, than the Thought that 
 an mnocent child has inherited fi-om you a disease, 
 or a weakness, the penalty in yourself of sia, or want of 
 caution. 
 
 <^Xi.\\il\tX{.tZ, — Mason. 
 
 'Tis ever thus 
 With noble minds, if chance they shde to folly ; 
 Remorse stings deeper, and relentless Conscience, 
 Pom's more of gall into the bitter cup 
 Of then* severe Repentance. 
 
 (iLmitizmt. — CoUon. 
 
 TO be satisfied with the Acquittal of the World, though 
 accompanied with the secret Condemnation of Con- 
 science, tliis is the mark of a httle mind ; but it requu-es 
 a soul of no common stamp to be satisfied with its oton 
 Acquittal, and to despise the Condemnation of the World. 
 
 dLmxitimtt, — Dryden. 
 Here, here it hes ; a lump of lead by day ; 
 And in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, 
 The hag that rides my dreams. 
 
70 ILLTISTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 dLanitimtt. — Steele. 
 
 THE World will never be in any manner of order or 
 tranquillity, until men are firmly couTinced, that 
 Conscience, Honotu-, and Credit are all in one iaterest; 
 and that without the concurrence of the former, the latter 
 are but impositions upon ourselves and others. 
 
 dLmitizmt, — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT 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. 
 dLonitizntt. — Milton. 
 
 HE 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. 
 
 C0n^CtatC0. — Fuller. 
 
 AGrUILTY Conscience is hke a whirlpool drawing in 
 all to itself, which would otherwise pass by. 
 
 <!L0nititX\iZ. — Toung. 
 
 CONSCIENCE,what art thou? thou tremendous l^ower! 
 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 hglit 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. 
 
 COll^CtBltCC. — Shakespeare. 
 Thou turns' t mine eyes into my very Soul ; 
 And there I see such black and grained spots. 
 As will not leave their tinct. 
 
 <^La\\it\mtt. — Shakespeare. 
 Better be with the dead. 
 Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace. 
 Than on the Torture of the Mind to lie 
 lu restless ecstacy. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 71 
 
 (iLmUimtZ. — Byron. 
 
 HoEEOE and doubt distract 
 His troubled Thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 The Hell within him ; for -withdn him HeU 
 He brings, and romid about him, nor from Hell 
 One step no more than from liimself can fly 
 By change of place. 
 
 dLanitiZlXtZ. — Crabhe. 
 
 OH! Conscience! Conscience! Man's most faithful friend, 
 Him canst thou comfort, ease, reUeve, defend : 
 But if he wiU thy friendly checks forego, 
 Thou art, oh ! woe for me, his deadHest foe ! 
 
 (SLan^timtZ, — Byron. 
 
 YET still there whispers the Small Voice within, 
 Heard through Grain's silence, and o'er Glory's din ; 
 Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, 
 Man'? Conscience is the oracle of G-od ! 
 
 <!LtinitiZXXtt, — Shahespeare. 
 
 I PEEL within me 
 A peace above all earthly dignities, 
 A still and quiet Conscience. 
 
 Con^CtClTCJ. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 M"? Conscience hath a thousand several tongues. 
 And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
 And every tale condemns me for a Villain. 
 
 ^anititxm. — Byron. 
 
 There is no future pang 
 Can deal that justice on the self-condemned 
 He deals on his own soul. 
 
 Conscience. — Byron. 
 
 THE Mind, that broods o'er guilty woes, 
 Is hke the scorpion girt by fire, 
 In circle narrowing as it glows, 
 The flames around their captive close^ 
 TOl inly search' d by thousand throes. 
 
 And maddening in her ire, 
 One and sole relief she knows : 
 The sting she nourished for her foes. 
 Whose venom never yet was vain, 
 
 J 
 
72 ILLUSTRATIONS OF IRUTII: 
 
 Gives but one pang, and cures all pain, 
 And darts into her desperate brain. 
 So do the dark in Soul expu'e, 
 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 ! 
 
 ■ €mit\a\X^X\tii. — La Bruylre. 
 
 TO feel the want of reason is next to having it ; an idiot 
 is not capable of this sensation. The best thing next 
 to wit is a Consciousness 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. 
 
 <!Lm.it^s^m.tti, — Colton. 
 
 AS 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 httle was expected, 
 produced much ; but the French Revolution, jfrom which 
 much was expected, produced Httle. 
 
 (Con^nlatton. — Housseau. 
 
 CONSOLATION indiscreetly pressed upon us, when we 
 are sufiering under afihction, only serves to increase 
 our pain, and to render our grief more poignant. 
 
 CfllT^jptracJ). — Shakespeare. 
 O Conspieacy! 
 Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by niglit, 
 When evils are most free ? O, then, by day, 
 Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 
 To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none, Conspu-acy; 
 Hide it in smiles and afiability. 
 
 CnntnnjpIatuJit. — Burnet. 
 
 THERE is no lasting pleasure but Contemplation ; all 
 others grow flat and insipid upon frequent use ; and 
 when a man hath ran thi-ough a set of vanities, in the 
 declension of his age, he knows not what to do with him- 
 self, if he cannot think : he samiters 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 73 
 
 C0lltClttJJt. — SliaJcespeare. 
 What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, 
 For one to tkrust his hand between his teeth, 
 When he might spurn him with his foot away ? 
 (!rontnitj[)t. — Byron. 
 
 Paedon is for men, 
 And not for reptiles — ^we have none for Steno, 
 And no resentment ; tilings hke 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 crushed, but feels no anger ; 
 'Twas the worm's nature ; and some men are worms 
 In soul more than the living things of tombs. 
 COUtcntJJt. — Chesterfield. 
 
 IT is very often more necessary to conceal Contempt 
 than Eesentmeut, the former being never forgiven, but 
 the latter sometimes forgot. 
 
 Cautemjlt. — Massinger. 
 
 The Prince that pardons 
 The first afiront offer'd to Majesty, 
 Invites a second, rendering that power. 
 Subjects should tremble at, contemptible. 
 Ingratitude is a monster, 
 To be strangled in the bhth. 
 
 ISjQWXZXXi. ■ — Spenser. 
 
 IT is the Mynd that maketh good or iU, 
 That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poorc ; 
 For some, that hath abundance at his will, 
 Hath not enough, but wants m greatest store ; 
 And other, that hath httle, asks no more. 
 But in that httle 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. 
 COtttJltt. — Shahespeare. 
 
 Best State, contentless. 
 Hath a distracted and most wretched beiag, 
 Worse than the worst. Content. 
 
 COltteut. — Shakespeare. 
 He that commends me to mine own Content, 
 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 
 
74 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTR; 
 
 Cfllttolt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 MY Crown is in my Heart, not on my Head ; 
 Not deck'd -with diamonds, and Indian stou^-s, 
 Nor to be seen : my Crown is called Content ; 
 A Crown it is that seldom Kings enjoy. 
 
 Content. — ShaJcespeare. 
 POOE, and Content, is rich and rich enough ; 
 But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, 
 To him that ever fears he shall be poor. 
 C0ntentnmTt. — Tucker. 
 
 THE Point of Aim for our Vigilance to hold in view, is 
 to dwell upon the brightest parts in every prospect, 
 to call oflP the thoughts when running upon disagreeable 
 Objects, and strive to be pleased with the present circum- 
 stances sun'oimding us. 
 
 (ILanXtntwmxt — Coiton. 
 
 THERE can be no doubt that the seat of perfect Con- 
 tentment 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 disptiters, but no 
 disciples; he therefore adopted the Mimbler mode of 
 investigation, and instilled his knowledge into others, 
 under the mask of seeking information from them. 
 C0ntentmrat. — Oreville. 
 
 WITHOUT Content, we shall find it ahnost as difilcixlt 
 to please others as ourselves. 
 
 CnntiStlttll. — Oreville. 
 
 MEIsT and Statues that are admired in an elevated 
 Situation, have a very different elfect upon us when 
 we approach them : the first appears less than we imagined 
 them, the last bigger. 
 
 C0nttfllUtS. — CoUon. 
 
 SPEAKING- generally, no man appears great to his 
 Contemporaries, for the same reason that no man is 
 gi-eat to liis Servants — both know too much of him. 
 
 §>eli=€antxal. — Cato. 
 
 I THINK the first Virtue is to restrain the Tongtie : he 
 approaches nearest to the Grods, who knows how to be 
 silent, even though he is in the right. 
 
OB, TKINaS NEW AND OLD. 75 
 
 ^Clf-Cautrol. — Shakespeare. 
 Better conquest never can'st thou make, 
 Than arm thy constant and thy nobler Parts 
 Against giddy loose Suggestions. 
 
 C0ntr0&er^a. — Butler. 
 
 HE could raise Scruples dark and nice, 
 And after solve 'em in a trice ; 
 As if Divinity had catch' d 
 The itch on pm-pose to be scratch' d. 
 
 ((i:flntr06er^l). — Golton. 
 
 WE are more inclined to hate one another for Points 
 on wliich vre differ, than to love one another for 
 Points on wliich 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 con- 
 vince and to convert them. Our Pride is hm-t by the 
 Eailure, and disappointed Pride engenders Hatred. 
 
 C0u6er^attfln. — Addison. 
 
 ONE 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 Conversation is never so much 
 straitened and confined as in numerous assembhes. 
 
 C0it60r^att0n. — CoUon. 
 
 WHEN 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. 
 
 ((Don6cr^att0U. — Addison. 
 
 IN private Conversation between intimate Friends, the 
 wisest men very often talk like the weakest ; for indeed 
 the talking with a Eriend is nothing else but thinking aloud. 
 
 Conb^rjSattott. — Steele. 
 
 IT is a Secret known but to few, yet of no smaU use in 
 the Conduct of Life, that when you faU iato a man's 
 Conversation, the first thing you thould consider is, 
 whether he has a greater incliuation to hear you, or that 
 you should hear him. 
 
76 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (^Lan'atXiKiian. — La Bmyhre. 
 
 THEEE 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 natm-ally arises in them betwixt their condition 
 and yours is excruciatmg. 
 
 C0ntJ0r^att0tt. — La Bruylre. 
 
 AMONGST such as out of Cunning hear all and talk 
 Httle, be siu-e to talk less ; or if you must talk, say 
 little. 
 
 C0n6n'^atton. — BurTce. 
 
 THE Perfection of Conversation is not to play a regular 
 sonata, but, hke the JEoHan harp, to await the Inspi- 
 ration of the passing breeze. 
 
 Cnnbgr^atlfllT. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 IJf Conversation, Humour is more than Wit, Easiness 
 more than Knowledge ; few desire to learn, or to think 
 they need it ; aU desire to be pleased, or, if not, to be easy. 
 
 C0niia:^att0n. — Colton. 
 
 SOME Praters are so fiiU of their own Gabble, and so 
 fond of their own Discord, that they would not sus- 
 pend then- eternal Monotonies, to hear the Wit of Sheridan, 
 or the Point of Swift ; one might as weE 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 
 duU, that any attempt to raise the slxmibering sparks of 
 Genius by means of such instruments, would be to stir 
 up a languislung fire with a poker 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 
 pecuhar to each ; thus they have just Ignorance enough to 
 talk amongst Pools, and just Sense enough to be silent 
 amongst Wits. But they have no Vivacity in themselves, 
 nor rehsh for it in another : to attempt to keep up the 
 baU of Conversation with svich partners would be to play 
 a game of fives agamst a bed of feathers. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. . 77 
 
 t&avCiitXiKiian. — Johnson. 
 
 HE only wiU please long, who by tempering the acidity 
 of Satire with the Sugar of Civility, and allaying the 
 heat of Wit with the fi-igidity of Humble Chat, can make 
 the true Pimch of Conversation ; and as that punch can 
 be drunk in the gi-eatest quantity which has the largest 
 proportion of water, so that Companion will be oftenest 
 welcome, whose Talk flows out with inoffensive copious- 
 ness, and unenvied insipidity. 
 
 Cnn&ergattfln. — Colton. 
 
 QlOME men are very entertaining for a first Interview, 
 but after that they are exhausted, and rtm out ; on a 
 second Meetmg we shall find them very flat and mono- 
 tonous : Uke hand organs, we have heard all their tunes. 
 CflUfacr^attOn. — Addison. 
 
 THAT 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 pur 
 proportion of goodwill or good humour among the Friends 
 we meet with, and not to trouble them with relations 
 wliich must of necessity obhge them to a real or feigned 
 afiliction. Cares, disti-esses, diseases, uneasinesses, and 
 dishkes of our own, are by no means to be obtruded upon 
 om- Friends. If we would consider how little of tliis 
 vicissitude of motion and rest, wldch we call hfe, is spent 
 with satisfaction, we should be more tender of oui- fiiends, 
 than to bring them httle sorrows which do not belong to 
 them. There is no real hfe but cheerful hfe ; therefore 
 valetudiaai-ians should be sworn, before they enter into 
 Company, not to say a word of themselves until the 
 meeting breaks up. 
 
 COUbCr^atiau. — From the French. 
 
 SPEAK httle and well if you wish to be considered as 
 possessing merit. 
 
 C0tt6er^attau. — Fuller. 
 
 NEYEE contend with one that is foohsh, proud, 
 positive, testy; or with a superior, or a clown m 
 matter of Argument. 
 
 CouSjcr^atlOn. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 THE first ingredient m Conversation is Truth, the next 
 Good Sense, the tliird Grood Humour, and the fom-th 
 Wit. 
 
78 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 (^mxhttiKtian, — Lavater. 
 
 HE who sedulously attends, pointedly asts, calmly 
 speaks, cooUy answers, and ceases when lie has no 
 more to say, is in possession of some of the best requisites 
 of Man. 
 
 €ani\tt^Ktian. — Swift. 
 
 NOTHING- is more generally exploded than the foUy of 
 talking too much; yet I rarely remember to have 
 seen five people together, where some one among them has 
 not been predominant in that kind, to the great constraint 
 and disgust of aU the rest. But among such as deal in 
 Multitude of Words, none are comparable to 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 promises to teU 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 aU this while is in 
 suspense ; at length, he says it is no matter, and so goes 
 on. And, to crown the business, it perhaps proves at 
 last a Story the Company has heard fifty times before. 
 
 Cflnber^atUfn. — Zimmerman. 
 
 IN the saUies of Badinage a poHte fool shines ; but in 
 Gravity he is as awkward as an elephant disporting. 
 
 €anhn^Etian, — Steele. 
 
 BEAUTY is never so lovely as when adorned with the 
 Smile, and Conversation never sits easier upon us 
 than when we now and then discharge om-selves in a 
 symphony of Laughter, which may not improperly be 
 called, the Chorus of Conversation. 
 
 C0n&jr^att0n. — Voltaire. 
 
 THE secret of tiring is to say everything that can be 
 said on the subject. 
 
 Cou6er^att0n. — Swift. 
 
 ONE of the best Eules in Conversation is, never to say 
 a thing which any of the Company can reasonably 
 wish we had rather left unsaid : nor can there any tlnng 
 be well more conti'ary to the ends for wliich people meet 
 together, than to part unsatisfied with each other or 
 themselves. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 79 
 
 C0n6a:^attOn. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE extreme pleasure we take in talking of oiu-selves 
 should make us fear that we give very httle to those 
 who hsten to us. 
 
 C0n6crSatt0n. — La EochefoucauU, 
 /^NE thing which makes us find so few people who 
 
 \J appear reasonable and agreeable in Conversation is, 
 that there is scarcely any one who does not thuik 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 atten- 
 tive 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 pleasing oneself; and that listening 
 well and answering well is one of the greatest Perfections 
 that can be attained in Conversation. 
 
 WHEN I meet vdth any that write obscurely, or con- 
 verse confiisedly, I am apt to suspect two things ; 
 first, that such persons do not understand themselves ; 
 and, secondly, that they are not worthy of being under- 
 stood by others. 
 
 C0n&t&taIttg. — Armstrong. 
 
 WHAT dext'rous thousands just witliin the goal 
 Of Wild Debauch direct their nightly com'se ! 
 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 then- blasted prime. 
 
 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 Estabhshment in the faith 
 neither excited then* zeal to the combat, nor rewarded 
 their prowess with victoiy. 
 
 (!D0u6a:^atujn. — CoUon. 
 
 C0n60r^t0tt. — Golton. 
 
8 o ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTS ; 
 
 C0ntin-^t0n. — Goethe. 
 
 As to the value of Conversions, G-od alone can judge. 
 G-od alone can know how wide are the steps which 
 the soul has to take before it can approach to a Com- 
 munity with him, to the dwelling of the Perfect, or to the 
 Intercourse and Friendship of higher natm-es. 
 
 W^Z C0quctte. — 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 j 
 Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour, 
 O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert, 
 Which not ennobles, but degrades her state. 
 
 C0mtjltelf Calent. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THE gentleman is leani'd, and a most rare Speaker, 
 To natm-e none more boimd ; his Training such, 
 That he may famish and instruct great teachers, 
 And never seek for aid out of liimself. 
 Yet see. 
 
 When these so noble benefits shall prove 
 Not well disposed, the miad growing once corrupt, 
 They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly 
 Than ever they were fair. 
 
 Cflmtjpt{0n. — BmJce. 
 
 THE age unquestionably produces, (whether in a gi-eater 
 or less number than in former times, I know not,) 
 darmg Profligates and insidious Hypocrites. Wliat then? 
 Am I not to avail myself of whatever good is to be found 
 in the world, because of the mixture of evil that will 
 always be in it ? The smallness of the quantity in cur- 
 rency only heightens the value. 
 
 C0mt5tl0n. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 This man so complete, 
 Who was em-oll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, 
 Almost -with Hst'ning ravish' d, coiild 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 81 
 
 Camtptinn. — Shahespeare. 
 
 OTHAT estates, degrees and ofHees 
 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 mucla low peasantry would then be glean'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 ! 
 
 C0n'ujjt{0n. — Colton. 
 
 MEN, by associat'ing in large masses, as in camps, and 
 in cities, improve theit* Talents, but impair their 
 Virtues, and strengthen their Mmds, but weaken their 
 Morals ; thus a retrocession in the one, is too often the 
 price they pay for a refinement in the other. 
 
 CorrUJptinn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEY that have power to hurt and will do none, 
 That do not do the thing they most do show, 
 Wlio, moving others, are themselves of stone. 
 Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow ; 
 They rightly do inherit Heav'n's graces, 
 Ajid husband Natm'e's riches from expense ; 
 They are the lords and owners of then* 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 liis dignity ; 
 For sweetest tilings turn som-est by their deeds ; 
 Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. 
 
 ComijtiOn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF that the Heavens do not their visible spirits 
 Send qiiickly do-wn to tame these vile Offences, 
 'Twin come. 
 
 Humanity miist perforce prey on itself, 
 Like monsters of the deep. 
 
 Counsel. — I'v.ller. 
 GooB Counsels observed are chains to grace. 
 
I 
 
 82 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 dLaxXWitl. — Seneca. 
 
 CONSULT your Friend ou all things, especially on 
 those wliick respect yourself. His Counsel may then 
 be useful, where yoxir own self-love might impair your 
 Judgment. 
 
 Council. — Shakespeare, 
 
 LET ofir Alliance be combined, 
 Om* best Triends made, and our best means stretch'd 
 Otlt ; 
 
 And let us presently go sit in Council, 
 How covert matters may be best disclosed, 
 And open perils surest answer'd. 
 
 Wc^t Cnujttry. — Milton. 
 
 A WILDEENESS of sweets ; for Nature here 
 Xl. Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at wUl 
 Her virgin fancies, poming forth more sweet, 
 Wild above rule or art, enormous bhss. 
 
 Country 3ltfC. — Cowper. 
 
 HOW various his employments, whom the world 
 Calls idle, and who justly in return 
 Esteems that busy world an idler too ! 
 Eriends, books, a G-ardeu, and perhaps his pen, 
 Dehghtful industiy enjoyed at home, 
 And Natm'e in her cultivated trim, 
 Di-essed to liis taste, inviting liim abroad. 
 
 Coittttll) iLtfe. — Cowper. 
 
 OH for a Lodge in some vast WHdemess, 
 Some boundless contigidty of Shade, 
 Wliere ramotir of oppression and deceit, 
 Of unsuccessful and successful war 
 Might never reach me more ! My ear is pain'd, 
 My soul is sick with every day's report 
 Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fiU'd. 
 
 Country Etfe. — Cozoper. 
 
 THE spleen is seldom felt where Elora reigns ; 
 The low'ring eye, the petulance, the fi'own, 
 And sullen sadness that o'ershade, distort, 
 And mar the face of beauty, when no cause 
 For such immeasurable woe appears, 
 These Flora banishes, and gives tlio' fair 
 Sweet smiles and bloom less transient than her own. 
 
 \ 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 83 
 
 Catmtrj) %\it. — Thomson. 
 
 THRICE liappy he ! M'ho on the sunless side 
 Of a romantic Mountain, Forest crown' d, 
 Beneath the whole collected Shade reclines ; 
 Or in the gehd caverns, Wood-bine wroiight, 
 And fresh bedew' d with ever spouting Streams, 
 Sits cooUy cahn ; while ah the world -vyithout, 
 TJnsatisfy'd, and sick, tosses at noon. 
 Emblem instructive of the vhtuous man, 
 Who keeps his temper' d mind serene, and pure, 
 And every passion aptly harmonized, 
 Amid a jarring world with vice enflamed. 
 
 C0ttntrj) iiife. — Cowper. 
 
 GOD 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 hte holds out to all, should most aboimd 
 And least be tin-eaten' d m the Fields and Groves. 
 
 Caimtry 3ltfe. — Thomson. 
 
 HERE too dwells simple Truth ; plain Innocence ; 
 Unsulhed Beauty ; sound unbroken Youth, 
 Patient of labour, with a httle pleas' d ; 
 Health ever blooming ; unambitious Toil ; 
 Cahn Contemplation, and poetic Ease. 
 
 COUntril Eife. — Cowper. 
 
 THEY love the Country, and none else, who seek 
 For their own sake its Silence and its Shade : 
 Delights wMch who would leave that has a heart 
 Susceptible of pity, or a mind 
 Cultured and capable of sober thought. 
 
 Crrxtlttri) — Feier Pindar. 
 
 THERE Health, so wild and gay, with bosom bare, 
 And rosy cheek, keen eye, and flowing hah. 
 Trips with a smile the breezy Scene along, 
 And pours the spfrit of Content in song. 
 
 C0tmtrt) Htfe. — Thomson. 
 
 OH knew he but his happiness, of men 
 The happiest he ! who far from pubhc rage, 
 Deep in the Vale, with a choice few retir'd, 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of the Rural Life. 
 
84- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 C0imtra %ilt. — Milton. 
 
 Wisdom's self 
 Oft seeks so sweet i-etired Solitude ; 
 Wliere with her best nurse, Contemplation, 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets groTV her -wings, 
 That ia the various bustle of Eesort 
 Were all too rufSed, and sometimes impair' d. 
 
 CmtntrjJ 3Ltfe. — Thomson. 
 
 Now from the town 
 Buried in smoke, and sleep, and noisome damps, 
 Oft let me wander o'er the dewy Fields, 
 Where fi-eshness breathes, and dash the trembling drops 
 From the Bent Bush, as tlirough the verdant Maze 
 Of Sweet-brier Hedges I pursue my walk, 
 
 Cottntrg Eife. — Cotvper. 
 
 ?rnlS pleasant through the loop-holes of Eetreat, 
 
 JL 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 tlirough all her gates, 
 At a safe distance, where the dying sound 
 FaUs a soft murmur on th' tminjured ear. 
 
 Cnuntrg ICife. — Thomson. 
 
 PEEHAPS thy lov'd Lucmda shares thy Walk, 
 With soul to thine attun'd. Then Nature all 
 Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; 
 And all the tumult of a guilty world, 
 Toss'd by migenerous passions, sinks away. 
 
 Courage. — Ben Jonson. 
 
 A VALiAiJT 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 vu'tues, 
 They're all unseason'd without it. 
 
 Courage. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Come all to ruin ; 
 Let thy mother rather feel thy Pride, than fear 
 Thy dangerous Stoutness ; for I mock at death, 
 With a big Heart as thou. Do as thou hst. 
 Thy Vahantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me; 
 But owe thy Pride thyself. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 85 
 
 COUtilflC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I 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. 
 
 Courage. — 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 yotir youth, whom blood and blows dehght, 
 Away with them ! there is not in. their crew 
 One vahant Spirit. 
 
 CouraCfC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 He stopp'd the fliers ; 
 And, by his rare example, made the coward 
 Trnm Terror iato Sport ; as waves before 
 A vessel under saU, so men obey'd, 
 And fell below his stem. 
 
 Cnitracie. — CoUon. 
 
 PHYSICAL Courage, wliich despises all danger, wiU. 
 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 j but to constitute a great 
 man, both are necessary. 
 
 COltrage. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 TRUE Courage is cool and calm. The bravest of men 
 have the least of a brutal bullyiag insolence ; and ia 
 the very time of danger are found the most serene and 
 free. Eage, 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. 
 
 C0UraS0. — Dryden. 
 
 AN intrepid Courage is at best but a hoHday-kind of 
 virtue, to be seldom exercised, and never but in cases 
 of necessity : affabihty, mildness, tenderness, and a word 
 wliich 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. 
 
86 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 Courage. — Byron. 
 
 A EEAl Spirit 
 Should neither court neglect, nor dread to bear it. 
 
 CnUtagP. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 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 crj, 
 The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. 
 
 COttrage. — Oremlle. 
 
 MOST men hare more Courage than eren they them- 
 selves think they have. 
 
 Court ScalflU^y. — Shakespeare. 
 
 No simple man that sees 
 This jarring Discord of Nobihty, 
 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 cliildren's hands ; 
 But more, when envy breeds tmkind division ; 
 There comes the ruin, there begins confusion. 
 
 C0m*t^5tjP« — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 SAY, that she rail ; Wliy, then I'U teU her plain, 
 She sings as sweetly as a nightingale : 
 Say, that she frown : lU 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'U commend her volubihty. 
 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, get you gone, she doth not mean, away. 
 
 (!D0Urt^]^t{). — Blair. 
 
 OH, then the longest summer's day 
 Seem'd too, too much ia haste : still the full Heart 
 Had not imparted half; 'twas Happiness 
 Too exquisite to last. 
 
OR, THINGS NEfV AND OLD. 87 
 
 COUrtS"l^tj|J, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Win her witli Gifts if slie respect not Words 5 
 
 Dumb Jewels often, in their silent kind, 
 
 More qiiick than Words, do move a Woman's Mind, 
 
 C0ttrt^ljtj). — Sliakespeare. 
 
 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 ; messengers 
 Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth. 
 
 Cmtrtsljtjp. — Thomson. 
 
 COME then, ye virgins and ye youths, whose Hearts 
 Have felt the raptm'es of refining Love ; 
 And thou, Amanda, come, pi'ide of my song ! 
 Porm'd by the Graces, Loveliness itself! 
 Come with those downcast eyes, sedate and sweet, 
 Those looks demure, that deeply pierce the soul. 
 Where with the hght of thoughtful reason mix'd. 
 Shines hvely fancy and the feelmg heart : 
 Oh come ! and wliile 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 then- sweets. 
 
 COWrt^^tP* — Shahespeare. 
 
 SAY, that upon 'the altar of her Beauty 
 You sacrifice yom" Tears, yoiir Sighs, your Heart : 
 Write, till yom* ink be dry ; and with yom- tears 
 Moist it again ; and frame some feelmg line, 
 That may. discover such integrity. 
 
 C0Urt5"T)t|). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Women are angels wooing ; 
 Tilings won are done, joy's soul hes in the doing : 
 That she belov'd knows nought, that knows not tliis, — 
 Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is. 
 
 COtirt^Ijt'p. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHY should you tliink that I shoiild 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. 
 
88 ILLU8TBATI0NS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (&a\itXa\X^\Xtii. — South. 
 
 THE Covetous Person lives as if the world vs^ere made 
 altogether for him, and not he for the world ; to take 
 in everything, and part with nothing. 
 
 Cabetnu^ntiS^. — Coiton. 
 
 AFTER Hypocrites, the greatest dupes the Devil has 
 are those who exhaust an anxious existence in the 
 Disappointments and Vexations of Busijjess, and hve 
 miserably and meanly, only to die magnificently and rich. 
 For, hke the Hypocrites, the only disinterested action 
 these men can accuse themselves of is, that of serving the 
 Devil, without receiving his wages : he that stands every 
 day of his life hehuid a coimter, until he drops from it 
 into the grave, may negotiate many very profitable bar- 
 gains ; 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 Ihs health, liis happiness, 
 and his integrity. 
 
 €abttmiSntS^, — BuHon. 
 
 COYETOUS men are fools, miserable wretches, buz- 
 zards, madmen, who hve by themselves, in perpetual 
 slavery, fear, suspicion, sorrow, discontent, with more of 
 gall than honey in their enjoyments ; who are rather 
 possessed by their Money than Possessors of it ; manoipati 
 pecuniis, bound 'prentices to their property ; and, seni 
 divitiarum, mean slaves and drudges to theh Substance. 
 
 ULa'atiauixnii. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Mastee, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. 
 
 1*^ FisJierman : 
 Why as men do a-land : the great ones eat up the httle 
 ones. I can compare our rich Misers to nothing so fitly 
 as to a whale ; 'a plays and timibles, driving the poor % 
 before him and at last devours tiiem all at a mouthful. 
 Such whales have I heard on the land, who never leave 
 gaping, tiU. they've swallowed the whole parish, church, 
 steeple, bells, and all. 
 
 €aiittm^miS. — F. Osbom. 
 
 pOVETOUSNESS, like a candle ill made, smothers the 
 vJ splendour of a happy fortune in its own grease. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 8q 
 
 etnij^tOU^ne^^. — Slialcespeare. 
 
 When workmen strive to do better than well, 
 They do confound then* skill in Covetousness. 
 
 CO^0ar^ftC^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 YoTT are the hare of whom the proverb goes, 
 Whose valour plucks dead Hons by the beard. 
 
 W)t Cn>*C0m5. — Slal-espeare. 
 
 BUT, I remember, when the fight was done. 
 When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, 
 Breathless, and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
 Came tnere a certain Lord, neat, trimly dress' d : 
 Fresh as a Bridegroom, and his chin, new reap'd, 
 Show'd hke a stubble land at harvest home. 
 
 He was pei-fumed Kke a MiUiner : 
 
 And 'twixt his finger and his thumb, he held 
 
 A pouncet box, wliich ever and anon 
 
 He gave his nose : and still he smil'd and talk'd ; 
 
 And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by. 
 
 He call'd them — untaught knaves, unmannerly. 
 
 To bring a slovenly tmliandsome corpse 
 
 Betwixt the wind and his nobihty. 
 
 <!LxtttS> — CoUon. 
 
 IN Pohtics, as in Rehgion, it so happens that we have 
 less charity for those who beheve the half of otir Creed, 
 than for those who deny the whole of it, since if Servetus 
 had been a Mohammedan, he would not have been burnt 
 by Calvin. 
 
 Cre^fuXtty. — Coiton. 
 
 IT is a cm-ious paradox, that precisely in proportion to 
 oxa own intellectual weakness, will be our Credulity 
 to those mysterious powers assumed by others ; and in 
 those regions of darkness and ignorance where man cannot 
 efliect even those things that are within the power of man, 
 there we shall ever find that a blind behef 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 
 stai've in Edinburgh, might luxuriate in his Grynseceum 
 at Constantinoxsle. But the more we know as to those 
 things that can be done, the more sceptical do we become 
 as to all things that cannot. 
 
90 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ©rctftilitn. — Colton. 
 
 THE Testimony of those who doubt the least is not, 
 unusuaRy, tliat very Testimony that oiight most to 
 be doubted. 
 
 (Crctftllttjl. — Sir Fhilip Sidney. 
 The only disadyantage of an honest heart is Credulity. 
 Crclfttlttg. — From the French. 
 
 THE common people are to be caught by the ears as 
 one catches a pot by the handle. , 
 
 Crting. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 FOR the credit of Virtue it must be admitted that the 
 greatest evils which befall mankind are caused by 
 their Grimes. 
 
 i^Lxxiiti. — AiUn. 
 
 HE whose first emotion, on the view of an excellent 
 production, is to undervalue it, will never have one 
 of his own to show. 
 
 Critic^. — W. Irving. 
 
 CEITICS are a kind of Ereebooters in the repubhc 
 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 
 robbiag them of their verdiu-e, and retarding their pro- 
 gress to maturity. 
 
 Cttniltnci. — Greville. 
 
 THE common Contrivances of Cunning put me in mind 
 of the preservative instinct I have sometimes observed 
 in Beasts, wliich lay a plot that is extremely artful and 
 weU. 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 comphcation 
 of the contrivance. 
 
 Cttniimt]:. — Plato. 
 
 NOWLEDG-E without Justice ought to be called 
 . Cunning rather than Wisdom. 
 
 CtUtntng. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE most sure method of subjecting yourself to be 
 deceived, is to consider yom'self more Cunmng than 
 others. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 91 
 
 CttnntUfl. — La JBruyere. 
 
 CUNNING- is none of the best nor worst qualities : it 
 floats between Virtue and Yice : there is scarce any 
 exigence where it may not and perhaps ought not to be 
 supphed by Prudence. 
 
 Cltunhtfl. — La Bruyere. 
 
 CUNNING- leads to Knavery; it is but a step from 
 one to the other, and that very slippery ; Lying only 
 makes the difference; add to that Cunnmg, and it is 
 Knavery. 
 
 CttUUtltCj:. — Goldsmitli. 
 
 THE boimds of a man's knowledge are easily concealed, 
 if he has but prudence. 
 
 (JDtmittUfl. — Lord Bacon. 
 
 WE take Cunning for a sinister or crooked wisdom, 
 and certainly there is a great difference between a 
 Cunnmg Man and a wise man, not only in point of 
 honesty but in point of abihty. 
 
 CTttnnins. — Colton. 
 
 HURET and Cunning are the two apprentices of Dis- 
 patch and of Skill ; but neither of them ever leai-n 
 their masters' trade. 
 
 Cxtmttnu. — Addison. 
 
 CUNNING- has only private selfish aims, and sticks at 
 nothing which may make them succeed. Discretion 
 has large and extended views, and, like a well-formed eye, 
 commands a whole horizon ; Cunning is a kind of short- 
 sightedness, that discovers the minutest objects wliich are 
 near at hand, but is not able to discern things at a dis- 
 tance. Discretion, the more it is discovered, gives a 
 greater authority to the person who possesses it. Dis- 
 cretion is the perfection of Eeason, and a guide to us in 
 ah the duties of life : Cunning is a kind of Instinct, that 
 only looks out after our immediate interest and welfare. 
 Discretion is only found in men of strong sense and good 
 understandings : Cunning is often to be met vrith in 
 brutes themselves, and in persons who are but the fewest 
 removes from them. In short. Cunning is only the 
 mimic of Discretion, and may pass upon weak men, in 
 the same manner as Yivacity is often mistaken for Wit, 
 and Gravity for Wisdom. 
 
1 
 
 9a ILLUSTRATIONS 01 TBUTH ; 
 
 CtmntUfl. — Oreville. 
 
 WE slionld do by our Cunning as we do by our 
 Courage, — always have it ready to defend ourselves, 
 never to offend others. 
 
 Cunntng. — Colton. 
 
 TAKING- things not as they oiight to be, but as they 
 are, I fear it must be allowed that MachiaveUi will 
 always have more disciples than Jesus. Out of the 
 milhons 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 hves have been practising 
 the principles of the Itahan, without having even heard of 
 his name ; who cordially beheve with him that the tongue 
 was given us to discover the thoiights of others, and to 
 conceal our own. 
 
 Cumtmfl. — Sterne. 
 
 THE paths of Vu-tue are plain and straight, so that the 
 bUnd, persons of the meanest capacity, shall not err. — 
 Dishonesty requires 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 Cimning, or man- 
 aging them with proper Secrecy and Advantage, have lost 
 for ever what they might have certainly secured with 
 Honesty and Plain- dealing. 
 
 Custom. — mil. 
 
 Custom forms us all ; 
 Our thoughts, our morals, our most fix'd behef, 
 Are consequences of our place of birth. 
 
 Ctt^t0m. — Coivper. 
 To follow foohsh precedents, and wink 
 With both our eyes, is easier than to think. 
 
 Cu^tnm. — Colton. 
 
 WHEI^ aU moves equally (says Pascal), nothing seems 
 to move, as in a vessel under sail ; and when ah run 
 by common consent into vice, none appear to do so. He 
 that stops first, views as from a fixed point the horrible 
 extravagance that transports the rest. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 93 
 
 Custom. — Rabelais. 
 
 CAN there be any greater dotage in the world, than for 
 one to guide and direct his Cotu'ses by the sound of a 
 bell, and not by his own judgment and discretion. 
 
 CttStnni. — Shakespeare. 
 
 New Customs, 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 Nay, let them be xmmanly, yet are foUow'd. 
 
 ©awfler. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OMISSION to do what is necessary 
 Seals a commission to a blank of Danger ; 
 And Danger, Kke an ague, subtly taints 
 Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 
 
 JSCitti). — Steele. 
 
 ALL that Nature has prescribed must be good ; and as 
 Death is natm-al to us, it is absurdity to fear it. 
 Pear loses its pvirpose when we are sure it cannot preserve 
 us, and we should draw resolution to meet it, from the 
 impossibility to escape it. 
 
 iBgat^. — Colton. 
 
 THE hand that unnerved Belshazzar derived its most 
 horrifying influence from the want of a body ; and 
 Death itself is not formidable in what we do know of it, 
 but in what we do not. 
 
 JBcati). — Shakespeare. 
 ■ The tongues of dying Men 
 Enforce attention hke deep harmony : 
 Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, 
 For they breathe truth, that breathe their words ia pain. 
 He, that no more must say, is hsten'd more 
 Than they, who in youth and ease have taught to glose ; 
 More are men's ends mark'd, than their hves before : 
 The setting sun, and music at the close, 
 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last ; 
 ! "Writ m remembrance, more than things long past. 
 
 IBcatlj. — Fascal. 
 
 DEATH itself is less painful when it eo-mos upon us 
 unawares, than the bare contemplation of it, even 
 ! when danger is far distant. 
 
94 ILLUSTBATtONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SDcatI). — La MocTiefoucauld. 
 Neither tlie sun nor Death can be looked at steadily. 
 
 JBeati^. — Martial. 
 
 YOU should not fear, nor yet should you wish for your 
 Last Day. 
 
 IScat^, — SliaTces-peare. 
 
 Death is a fearful tiling 
 To die, and go we know not where ; 
 To He in cold obstruction, and to rot ; 
 Tliis sensible warm motion to become 
 A kneaded Clod ; and the dehghted Spirit 
 To bathe in fiery iioods, or to reside 
 In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice : 
 To be imprison' 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 incertain thoughts - 
 Imagine howhng ! — 'tis too horrible ! 
 The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, peniuy, and imprisonment 
 Can lay on Natiu-e, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of Death. 
 
 SBcafi). — Shakespeare. 
 IfoTHiNG can we call our own, but Death ; 
 And that small model of the barren earth, 
 Wliich serves as paste and cover to oiu* bones. 
 
 I3cat5. — Metastasio. 
 
 IT is by no n;ieans a fact, that Death is the worst of all 
 evils ; when it comes, it is an alleviation to mortals 
 who are worn out with sulTerings. 
 
 ^^£a^^). — couon. 
 
 DEATH is the Liberator of liim whom freedom cannot 
 release, the Physician of him whom medicine cannot 
 cui'e, and the Comforter of him whom time cannot console. 
 
 JB^atl^. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 0, "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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 95 
 
 J9Ciltl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 TO what base iises we may return! Wliy may not 
 imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till it 
 find it stopping a bung-hole ? As thus, Alexander died, 
 Alexander was bui-ied, Alexander retumeth 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 ? 
 
 JB^atT). — Shakespeare. 
 
 EoR within the hollow crown, 
 Tliat rounds the mortal temples of a king, 
 Keeps Death his court ; and there the Antick sits 
 . Scoiiing 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 Tain conceit. 
 As if this flesh, which waUs about our life, 
 "Were brass impregnable : and humour'd thus, 
 Comes at the last, and with a httle pin 
 Bores thi-ough his castle-walls, and farewell King! 
 
 HB^atT). — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 ensign yet 
 Is crimson in thy hps, and in thy cheeks, 
 And Death's pale flag is not advanced there. 
 Wliy art thou yet so fair ? shall I beheve, 
 That unsubstantial Death is amorous. 
 And that the lean abhorred Monster keeps 
 Thee here in dark, to be his paramour ? 
 
 MtK&). — Shakespeare. 
 "IVTOW boast thee, Death, in thy possession lies 
 
 iN A lass tmparallel'd. Downy windows close ; 
 
 And golden Phosbus never be beheld 
 Of eyes again so royal ! 
 
 JB^atl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Full of repentance, 
 Continual meditations, tears and sorrows, 
 He gave his honoui-s to the world again, 
 His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in peace. 
 
96 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBTJTII, 
 
 JBCatl^. — Shakespeare. 
 Death lies on her, like an untimely frost 
 Upon the sweetest flow'r of all the field. 
 
 JB^atl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 HAYE I not liideons Death within my view? 
 Eetaioing bnt a quantity of hfe, 
 Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax 
 Eesolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire ? 
 What in the world should make me now deceiye, 
 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 hve hence by truth ? 
 
 JBcatl^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Nothing- in his life 
 Became him Hke 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. 
 
 JBcatI). — Shakespeare. 
 
 IT is too late ; the hfe of all liis blood 
 Is touch' d corruptibly : and his pure brain, 
 (Which, some suppose, the soul's fraO. dwelhng-house,) 
 Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, 
 Toretell the ending of Mortahty. 
 
 J9catl). — Shakespeare. 
 Mount, motmt, my Soul ! thy seat is up on high ; 
 Wliilst my gross Flesh sinks downward here to die. 
 
 JBcatl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Death, 
 
 Being an ugly Monster, 
 
 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, 
 Sweet words : or hath more ministers than we 
 Tliat di-aw his knives i' the war. 
 
 JBcatl^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 To die, — to sleep, — 
 TSo more ; — and, by a sleep, to say we end 
 The heart-ach, and the thousand natm'al shocka 
 That flesh is hen* to, — 'tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wish'd. 
 
OM, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 97 
 
 JBcatl^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 DO not, for ever, with thy veiled lids 
 Seek for thy noble father in the dust : 
 Thou know'st, 'tis common ; all, that hve, must die, 
 ' Passing through Natui-e to Eternity. 
 
 JB^at]^. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 O, AMIABLE lovely Death ! 
 Thou odoriferous stench ! sound rottenness ! 
 Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, 
 Thou hate and terror to prosperity, 
 Ajid I vrill kiss thy detestable bones ; 
 And ring these iingers with thy household worms ; 
 And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, 
 And be a carrion Monster Hke thyself : 
 Come, grin on me ; and I will think thou smil'st, 
 And buss thee as thy wife ! Mercy's love, 
 O come to me ! 
 
 ©Jat^. — Shakespeare, 
 Ip thou and Nature can so gently part, 
 The stroke of Death is as a lover's piach, 
 Which hurts, and is desir'd. 
 
 JBcatl^. — ShaTcespea/re. 
 I AM a tainted wether of the flock, 
 Meetest for Death ; the weakest kind of fruit 
 Drops earhest to the ground, and so let me. 
 
 - iScati^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 OMiaHTY Ceesar ! dost thou He so low ? 
 Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
 I Shi'imk to this httle measure ? 
 i But yesterday the word of Caesar might 
 
 Have stood against the world : now hes he there, 
 And none so poor to do him reverence. 
 
 JBCat]^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Lay her i' the earth ; — 
 And from her fair and unpolluted flesh 
 May violets sprmg ! 
 i JBcatf). — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Herb lurks no treason, here no envy swells, 
 Here grow no damned grudges ; here, are no storms, 
 No noise, but Silence and Eternal Sleep. 
 
 I H 
 
 L - ■ . 
 
98 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTR; 
 
 ©eat^. — Toung. 
 
 WHEN down tliy vale tmlock'd by midniglit thought 
 That lores to wander in tliy sunless realms, 
 O Death ! I stretch my view ; what visions rise ! 
 What tiitimphs ! toils imperial ! arts divine ! 
 In wither' d latu-els ghde before my sight ! 
 What lengths of far-famed ages, billow' d liigh 
 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 at human pride, 
 Tlie wisdom of the wise, and prancings of great. 
 
 iBeat^. — ShaTcespea') A. 
 
 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. 
 
 JBjjatl^. — STiaTcespeare. 
 
 COWARDS die many times before then- 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. 
 
 iBcatl^. — SliaJcespeare. 
 That life is better Life, past fearing Death, 
 Than that which hves to fear. 
 
 iBeatI). — Soutliey. 
 
 DEATH ! to the happy thou art terrible. 
 But how the wretched love to think of thee. 
 O thou true comforter, the friend of aU 
 Who have no friend beside. 
 
 HBuati^. — Dry den. 
 
 I FEEL Death rising higher stiU and higher 
 Within my bosom ; every breath I fetch 
 Shuts up my life within a shorter compass : 
 And, hke the vanishing soimd of belLs, grows less 
 And less each pulse, tiU it be lost in aii-. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 ©tatl). — Blair. 
 
 O GREAT Man-eater! 
 Whose every day is Carnival, not sated yet ! 
 Unheard- of epiciu-e ! without a fellow ! 
 The veriest gluttons do not always cram ; 
 Some intervals of abstinence are soiight 
 To edge the appetite ; thou seekest none. 
 Beat!). — Young. 
 
 EARLY, bright, transient, 
 Chaste as morning dew, 
 She sparkled, was exhaled. 
 And went to Heaven. 
 
 MtKt\). — Byron. 
 
 Death, so call'd, is a thing that makes men weep, 
 And yet a thu-d of life is pass'd in sleep. 
 
 J30atlj. — Blair. 
 
 HOW shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! 
 To hitn that is at ease in his possessions ; 
 "Wlio, coimting on long years of pleasure here. 
 Is quite unfornish'd for that world to come ! 
 In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
 Haves round the walls of her clay tenement, 
 Huns to each avenue, and shrieks for help, 
 But shrieks in vain ! 
 
 ig^ati^. — Young. 
 
 WHY start at Death ? Where is he ? Death arriv 
 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 slu-oud, 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 hving, not the dead. 
 Imaguiation's fool, and en-or's wi-etch, 
 Man makes a Death, wliich Natm'e never made ; 
 Then on the point of his own fancy falls ; 
 And feels a thousand Deaths in fearing one. 
 
 JB^atl^. — Bgron. 
 A SLEEP without dreams, after a rough day 
 Of toil, is what we covet most ; and yet 
 How clay shrinks back from more qmescent clay. 
 
loo ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 J9?at5. — Toung. 
 Death is the crown of life : 
 "Were Death deny'd, poor men would live in vaia ; 
 Were Death deny'd, to hye would not be Hfe ; 
 Were Death deny'd, ev'n fools woiild wish to dia 
 
 ^m^. — Young. 
 
 EACH friend by Fate snatch' d from us, is a plume 
 Pluckt fi'om the wing of human vanity, 
 Wliich 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 httle dust, 
 And save the world a nuisance. 
 
 iBcatl^. — Byron. . 
 
 GAW this be Death ? there's bloom upon her cheek ; 
 Eut now I see it is no hying hue, 
 But a strange hectic — like the unnatui-al red 
 Which Autumn plants upon the perish' d leaf. 
 It is the same ! Oh, God ! that I should dread 
 To look upon the same. 
 
 J9rat5» — Camplell. 
 
 SOON may this fluttering spark of vital flame 
 Forsake its langmd melancholy frame ! 
 Soon may these eyes their trembling lustre close, 
 Welcome the dreamless night of long Repose ! 
 Soon may this woe-worn spirit seek the bom-ne 
 Where, lull'd to shunber, Grrief forgets to mourn ! 
 
 HBcati^. — Byron. 
 
 WHOM the G-ods 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 Ai-cher's shafts, perhaps the early arave 
 Which men weep over may be meant to save. 
 
 ^ZK^. — Dryden. 
 Oh ! that I less could fear to lose this being! 
 Which, hke a snow-ball in my coward hand. 
 The more 'tis grasp' d, the faster melts away. 
 
 i 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. loi 
 
 ©eati^. — Mrs. TigTie. 
 
 OTHOU most terrible, most dreaded Power 
 In whatsoeyer form thou meetest the eye ! 
 Whether thou biddest thy sudden ari'ow fly 
 In the di'ead silence of the midnight hour ; 
 Or whether, hovering o'er the Hngering wretch, 
 Thy sad cold javehn hangs suspended long, 
 Wliile round the couch the weeping Kindi-ed throng 
 With Hope and Eear alternately on stretch ; 
 Oh say, for me what horrors are prepared ? 
 Am I now doomed to meet thy fatal arm ? 
 Or wilt thou &st from life steal every chann 
 And bear away each good my soul would guard ? 
 That thus, depi'ived of aU it loved, my heart 
 From life itself contentedly may part. 
 
 JBcljt. — FranTclin. 
 
 CREDITOES have better memories than Debtors ; and 
 Creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of 
 set days and times. 
 
 JBcBt. — Sir M. Sale. 
 
 RUN 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 scox-e. 
 
 JBcilt. — Chesterfield. 
 
 A MAN who owes a httle can clear it olF in a very little 
 time, and, if he is a prudent man, will ; whereas a 
 man, who, by long neghgence, owes a great deal, despahs 
 of ever being able to pay, and therefore never looks into 
 his accounts at all. 
 
 lijjlt^. — Fuller. 
 
 LOSE not thine own for want of asking for it ; 'twill get 
 thee no thanks. 
 
 ^tttit, — Joanna Baillie, 
 
 THINK'ST thou there are no Serpents in the world 
 But those who shde aioug 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, tUl its healtlifol frame 
 Is chang'd to secret, fest'ring, sore Disease, 
 So deadly is the Wound. 
 
1 02 ILL US TEA TIONS OF TR UTS; 
 
 ^tlzntZ, — Shakespeare. 
 
 IN" causes of Defence, 'tis best to weigh 
 The enemy more mighty than he seems ; 
 So the proportions of Defence are fiU'cl ; 
 Which of a weak and niggardly projection 
 Doth, hke a miser, spoil his coat with scanting 
 A httle cloth. 
 
 ^titcmn, — Slienstone. 
 
 DEFERENCE is the most complicate, the most in. 
 du'ect, and the most elegant of all Compliments. 
 
 ^tftVtim. — Slienstone. 
 
 DEFERENCE often shrinks and withers as much upon 
 the approach of Intimacy, as the sensitive plant does 
 upon the touch of one's finger. 
 
 SnijC JBeitj). — Milton. 
 And thou, O Sphit, that dost prefer, 
 Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for thou know'st. 
 
 iBcitg. — Frior. 
 
 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 inqiiu-y tlien, and cm-b thy sense, 
 Nor let dust argue with Omnipotence. 
 Wift Bcttl). — Frior. 
 
 FROM Nature's constant or eccentric laws, 
 The thoughtful soul this general inference draws, 
 That an Effect mxist pre-suppose a Cause : 
 And, while she does her upward flight sustain, 
 Touching each link of the continued chain, 
 At length she is obhg'd and forc'd to see 
 A First, a Source, a Life, a Deity ; 
 What has for ever been, and must for ever be. 
 
 Ci^C JBcttg. — Cotcper. 
 
 IN the vast, and the minute, we see 
 The unambiguous footsteps of the Grod, 
 Who gives its lustre to an insect's wing. 
 And wheels his throne upon the rolling worlds. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 103 
 
 Wiyt IBCttj). — Thomson. 
 
 AND yet was every falt'ring 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 ! 
 
 W\yt i@0ttg. — Thomson. 
 
 HAIL, Som-ce of Beuig ! 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. 
 
 JBcitg. — Thomson. 
 
 WITH what an awful world-revolving power 
 Were first the unwieldy planets laxmch'd along 
 The iLhmitable void ! Thus to remain. 
 Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
 That oft has swept the toiling race of men, 
 And aU then- 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 steahng round, 
 Mmutely faithful : Such the all-perfect Hand! 
 That pois'd, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
 
 JBcIltaCJ). — Novalis. 
 
 SHAME is a feehng of profanation. Friendship, Love, 
 and Piety ought to be handled mth a sort of mysteri- 
 ous secrecy ; they ought to be spoken of only in the rare 
 moments of perfect confidence— to be mutually under- 
 stood in silence. Many things are too dehcate to be 
 thought ; many more, to be spoken. 
 
 JBcttcarg. — Greville. 
 
 WEAK men often, fi-om the very principle of their 
 weakness, derive a certain Susceptibihty, Dehcacy, 
 and Taste, which render them, in those particulars, much 
 superior to men of stronger and more consistent minds, 
 who laiigh at them. 
 
1 04 ILL USTBA TLONS OF TR UTR; 
 
 0 
 
 JBriaj). — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 ^ THAT comfort comes too late ; 
 _ 'Tis like a pardon after execution ; 
 That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me; 
 But now I am past all comfort here, but prayers. 
 
 W\)t JBrtviUt. — Byron. 
 
 THE Heavens and Earth are mingling — Grod! oh Grod! 
 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 imiocent with men ; 
 And the birds scream their agony through air. 
 
 ©Cltt^t'on. — La LLocliefoucauU. 
 
 WHEN our vices quit us, we flatter ourselves with the 
 belief that it is we who quit them. 
 
 JBcItt^t'fln. — Colton. 
 
 WE 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 caimot overcome the 
 first, or Elattery the second. Self-love is always ready to 
 defeat the sentence by bribing a third ; a bribe that in 
 tills case is never refased, because she always comes up to 
 the price. 
 
 JS^IU^lOn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O, WHO can hold a fire ia his hand, 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
 Or cloy the himgry edge of appetite, 
 By bare Imagination of a feast ? 
 Or waUow naked in December snow, 
 By thinking on fantastic Summer's heat ? 
 O, no ! the apprehension of the good 
 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : 
 EeU Sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, 
 Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. 
 
 eare. 
 
 DANGrEEOUS Conceits are, in their natm-es, poisons, 
 Which, at the fii-st, are scarce found to distaste; 
 But with a httle act upon the blood, 
 Bum hke the mines of sidphur. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 105 
 
 JS^IU^UJU. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
 IT many times falls out, that -we deem ourselves much 
 deceiyed in others, because we first deceived ourselves. 
 
 i3rtllS"t0n. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THIS is the excellent Foppery of the World! that, 
 when we are sick in fortune (often the sm-feit of our 
 own behaviom-), we make guilty of our disasters, the stin, 
 the moon, and the stars : as if we were villains by neces- 
 sity; fools, by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, tliieves, and 
 treachers, by spherical predominance; di-unkards, Hars, 
 and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influ- 
 ence J and all that we are evil in by a divine thrusting on. 
 JBcIu^tOU, — Shakespeare. 
 
 O THOUGHTS of men accurst ; 
 Past, and to come, seem best ; tilings present, worst. 
 JBrfU^UJU. — Froude. 
 
 HOW oft that Yntue, which some Women boast, 
 And pride themselves in, is but an Empty Name, 
 No real good : in thought alone possess' d. 
 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 her Face, and there you read her Yirtue. 
 
 JBclUj^UJU. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Foe love of Grrace, 
 Lay not that flattering imction to your soul ; 
 It win but skin and fihn the ulcerous place ; 
 Whiles rank Corruption, mining all within, 
 Infects unseen. 
 
 JBanagostte. — Sir A. Eunt. 
 
 I 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. 
 
 J9£^Olatt0U. — Camphell. 
 
 I ALONE am left on earth ! 
 To whom nor Eelative nor Blood remains. 
 No ! — ^not a kindred drop that runs in human veins. 
 
io6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 MzinlKiiaiX, — Byron. 
 TT7HAT is the worst of woes that wait on Age? 
 
 » T Wliat stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow ? 
 To view each lov'd one blotted from Life's page, 
 And be alone on Earth, as I am now. ' 
 Mzialliiian, — Byron. 
 
 My mother Earth! 
 And thou, fresh breakmg 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 aU 
 Ai-t a dehght — thou shui'st not on my heart. 
 
 MtialKtim, — Maturin. 
 
 THE fountaui of my heart dried up within me,— 
 With nought that loved me, and with nought 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 feU upon my knees, and prayed for Death. 
 
 BWnlattOlt. — Thomson. 
 
 UNHAPPY he! who from the first of joys, 
 Society, exit 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, dim- discovered, dropping fi-om the clouds ; 
 At evening, to the setting sun he turns 
 A. moiu-nful eye, and down his dying heart 
 Sinks helpless. 
 
 iBti^nix. — Thomson. 
 
 'Tis late before 
 The brave Despair. 
 
 JBc^jiatr. — Milton. 
 
 ME miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 Infinite wi-ath, and infinite Despair? 
 Which way I fly is Hell ; myself am Hell ? 
 And in the lowest deep a lower deep 
 StUl tlu-eat'ning to devour me opens wide, 
 To which the Hell I sufier seems a- Heaven. 
 
I' 
 
 OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. loi 
 
 JBCS'j^atr. — Milion. 
 
 Ail Hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace ; what worse ? 
 For where no Hope is left, is left no Fear. 
 
 JBe^Jiair. — Shakespeare. 
 Spirits of peace, where are ye ? Are ye all gone ? 
 And leave me here ia Wretchedness beliind ye ? 
 
 JBlJ^Jjair, — Shalcespeare. 
 I AM one. 
 
 Whom the vUe blows and bviffets of the world 
 Have sy mcens'd, that I am reckless what 
 I do to spite the world. 
 
 And I another. 
 So weary with disasters, tugg'd with Fortime, 
 That I wotdd set my hfe on any chance. 
 To mend it or be rid on't. 
 So cowards fight, when they can fly no fLU-ther ; 
 So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talops ; 
 So desperate tliieves, all hopeless of then' lives, 
 Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. 
 
 Bc^pair. — Beattie. 
 
 DEEADFTJL is then* doom, whom doubt has driven 
 To censure Fate, and pious Hope forego : 
 Like yonder blasted boughs by hghtning riven, 
 Perfection, Beauty, Life, they never know. 
 But frown on all that pass, a Monument of Woe. 
 
 IBC^Jjatr. — Collier. 
 
 DESPAIE. makes a despicable figure, and descends from 
 a mean original. 'Tis the oifspring of Fear, of Lazi- 
 ness, and Impatience; it argues a defect of spirit and 
 resolution, and oftentimes of honesty too. I woidd not 
 despau', unless I saw my misfortune recorded ia the Book 
 of Fate, and signed and sealed by necessity. 
 
 ^ti^KiX, — Shalcespeare. 
 
 TET what Kepentance can. Wliat can it not ? 
 Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ? 
 O wretched state ! O bosom, black as death ! 
 O limed soul, that, strugghng to be free, 
 Art more engaged ! 
 
1 08 ILL TJSTBA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 Bti^m, — Greville. 
 
 DESPAIE, gives the shocking ease to the Miad, that a 
 mortification gives to the Body. 
 
 Cljg I3g^j]ti?cir. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 It is only those who are despicable who fear being despised, 
 ^jptrttttal ®ejSjp0tt;Sm. — Milton. 
 
 THEIS" 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 spu'itual, to themselves appropriating 
 The Sphit of God, promis'd ahke and given 
 To_ all behevers ; and from that pretence, " 
 Spiritual Laws by Carnal pow'r shall force 
 On every conscience ; laws which none shall find 
 Left them enroll' d, or what the spirit witliin 
 Shall on the heart engrave. 
 
 ^jjirttual I90^j)0tt5"m. — MiUon. 
 
 WOLVES shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
 Who all the sacred mysteries of Heaven 
 To then' own vile advantages shall turn 
 Of lucre and ambition, and the Truth 
 With superstitions and traditions taint. 
 
 iBCJSittna. — Rolert Sail. 
 
 THE wheels of Natui-e are not made to roll backward: 
 every thing presses on towards Eternity: from the 
 bu-th of Tune 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 con- 
 gemal to its natm-e, is em-iching itself by the spoils of 
 Earth, and collecting within its capacious bosom what- 
 ever is pure, permanent, and divine. 
 
 Mt^ihlQ. — Colton. 
 
 OUR minds are as different as our faces ; we are all 
 travellmg to one Destination— Happmess ; but few 
 are going by the same road. 
 
 MtiiilVQ. — Cumherland. 
 T DO not mean to expose my ideas to ingenious ridicule 
 -L by mamtaimng that everything happens to every man 
 tor the best ; but I will contend, that he, who makes the 
 best use of it, ftilfils the part of a wise and good man. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 109 
 
 JBC^tmu. — Shakespeare. 
 All -unavoided is the doom of Destiny, — 
 When avoided Grrace makes Destiny. 
 
 SBxtt. — Franklin. 
 
 IN general, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, 
 eat about twice as much as nature requires. 
 
 J3tet. — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 ALL courageous animals are carnivorous, and greater 
 corn-age is to be expected in a people, such as the 
 English, whose food is strong and hearty, than in the 
 half-starved, commonalty of other countries. 
 
 JBict. — Burton. 
 
 FOOD improperly taken, not only produces original 
 diseases, but aiFords those that are already engendered 
 both matter and sustenance ; so that, let the father of 
 disease be what it may, Intemperance is certainly its 
 mother. 
 
 53l0t. — Fliny. 
 
 SIMPLE Diet is best; — ^for many Dishes bring many 
 diseases ; and rich Sauces are worse than even heaping 
 several Meats upon each other. 
 
 |9tCt. — Horace. 
 
 THE chief pleasure (in Eating) does not consist in costly 
 Seasoniag, or exquisite Flavour, but in yom'self. Do 
 you seek for Saucfe by sweating ? 
 
 JBmulfl. — Johnson. 
 
 BEFORE Dinner, men meet with great inequahty of 
 understanding ; and those who are conscious of their 
 inferiority have the modesty not to talk ; when they have | 
 di'imk Wiae, 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. 
 
 JBtJinttg. — Byron. 
 Weil had he learn' d to cm-b the crowd, 
 By arts that veil, 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 mirth, but lacks not Courtesy. 
 
no ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 BtCfllttM. — Byron. 
 Thet crouch' d to him, for he had Skill 
 To warp and wield the vulgar wHl. 
 Bt^m-liment. — Greville. 
 
 DTSCEENMENT is a power of the understanding in 
 which few excel. Is not that owing to its connection 
 with Impartiahty and Truth ? for are not Preiudice and 
 Partiahty bhnd? 
 
 JBl^Ct^jltue. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Had doting Priam check' d his son's desire, 
 Troy had been bright with fame, and not with fire. 
 i9tjSct|lIt«C. — Seneca. 
 
 NO evil propensity of the human heart is so powerful 
 that it may not be subdued by Discipline. 
 Miti^lint, — Anon. 
 
 DISCIPLINE, 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 apd as 
 a restramt, yet seem to lie easily in hand. It must always 
 be ready to check or to puU up, as occasion may require ; 
 and only when the horse is a runaway, should the action 
 of the curb be perceptible. 
 
 Mi&tX^lim. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Now, as fond fathers. 
 Having bound up the threat' ning twigs of bu-ch, 
 Only to stick it in their children's sight, 
 Eor terror, not to use ; in time the rod 
 Becomes more mock'd than fear'd : so our decrees. 
 Dead to infliction, to themselves ai-e dead ; 
 And Liberty plucks Justice by the nose ; 
 The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwaxt 
 Goes all Decormn. 
 
 Bt^COnteiTt. — Mshop Sail. 
 
 THE Malcontent is neither well, fuU nor fasting : and 
 though he abound with complaints, yet nothing dis- 
 hkes hun but the present : for what he condemns while it 
 was, once passed, he magnifies and strives to recall it out 
 ot 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 cai-es so much for that which 
 IS not. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Ill 
 
 JBt^rOVif. — Feter Findar. 
 
 DISCOKD, a sleepless hag, wlio never dies, 
 With siiipe-hke nose, and ferret- glowing eyes, 
 Lean, sallow cheeks, long chin, with .beard supphed, 
 Poor crackling jomts, and wither'd parchment hide, 
 As if old drvuns, worn out -n-ith martial din, 
 Had clubb'd their yellow heads to form her skin. 
 JBlSCfltlJ. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THIS late Dissension, grown betwixt the peers, 
 Burns under feigned 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. 
 J9{^C0fifanCC. — Shakespeare. 
 Hov7 som* sweet Music is. 
 When Time is broke, and no Proportion kept ! 
 So is it in the Music of Men's Lives. 
 JBi^cflbcrjj. — Colton. 
 
 IT 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 suggestions of Analogy, have made pro- 
 found discoveries in the sciences, as it were a priori : or 
 to those, who, by the patient road of Experiment, and the 
 subsequent improvement of instruments, have brotight 
 these discoveries to j)erfection, as it were a posteriori ? 
 Who have rendered that certain wliich before was only 
 conjectui'al, practical which was problematical, safe which 
 was dangerous, and subservient which was tmmanageable. 
 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. 
 J3t^C0tiCrt0^. — Colton. 
 
 IT is a mortifying trvith, and ought to teach the wisest 
 of us humUity, that many of the most valuable Dis- 
 coveries have been the result of chance, rather than of 
 contemplation, and of accident, rather than of design. 
 
 IBl^nrctt'OU. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 JEST not openly at those that are simple, but remember 
 how much thou art bound to Grod, who hath made 
 thee wiser. Defame not any woman pubhcly, though 
 
112 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 thou know her to he evil ; for those that are faulty cannot 
 endure to he taxed, hut will seek to be avenged of thee • 
 and those that are not guilty, cannot endure unjust 
 reproach. As there is nothing more shameful and dis- 
 honest than to do wrong, so truth itself cutteth his throat 
 that carrieth her pubhcly in every place. Eemember the 
 divine saying, he that keepeth his mouth, heepeth his life. 
 
 Miivctixan, — Bume. 
 
 THE greatest parts without Discretion may he fatal to 
 theu- owner; as Polyphemus, deprived of his eye, 
 was only the more exposed on account of his enormous 
 strength and stature. 
 
 MScvtUan, — Colfon. 
 
 IE a cause he good, the most violent attack of its enemies 
 wiU not injvire 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 Juhan by his 
 hostihty, notwithstanding all the wit and vigour with 
 which it waa conducted. 
 
 JSfetrtttan. — Zimmerman. 
 
 OPEN your mouth and purse caiitiously; and your 
 stock of wealth and reputation shall, at least in 
 repute, he great. 
 
 Mittttimx. — Addison. 
 
 THERE are many more shining quahties in the mmd 
 of man, but there is none so useful as Discretion ; it 
 is this mdeed which gives a value to all the rest, wliich 
 sets them at work ia their proper times and places, and 
 turns them to the advantage of the person who is pos- 
 sessed of them. Without it, Learning is Pedantry and 
 Wit Impertmence; Vfrtue itself looks hke Weakness; 
 the best parts only qualiiy a man to be more sprightly in 
 errors, and active to his own prejudice. 
 
 Biim^^iaiX. — Bishop Watson. 
 
 WHOSOEYER is afraid of submittmg any Question, 
 civil or rehgious, to the test of free Discussion, is 
 more m love vrith his own opinion than with Truth. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 113 
 
 JBt'^CSSf^. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 Diseases, desperate grown, 
 Ey desperate appliance are relieyed, 
 Or not at all. 
 
 MiiinXzxtit&tilXtiS. — Anon. 
 
 MEN of the woi'ld hold that it is impossible to do a 1 
 Disinterested Action, except from an Interested 
 Motive ; for the sake of admiration, if for no grosser, 
 more tangible gam. Doubtless they are also convinced, 
 that, when the sun is showering light from the sky, he is 
 only standing there to be stared at. 
 
 jat^^Cmiltltfl. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Dissembling Courtesy ! how fine this tyi'ant 
 Can tickle where she wounds ! 
 
 l@t^jputatt0Jt. — Socrates. 
 
 IP thou continuest to take delight in idle Argumentation, 
 thou mayst be qualified to combat with the Sophists, 
 but wilt never know how to hve with men. 
 
 dTninilw ^ii^tniimx. — From the Latin. 
 
 FROM what stranger can you expect attachment, if 
 you are at variance with your ovrai relations ? 
 
 J3{^^tmttlat{0U. — La JBruyere. 
 
 DTSSTMTJLATION, even the most umocent in its 
 nature, is ever productive of embarrassment ; whether 
 the design is evil or not, artifice is always dangerous and 
 almost inevitably disgraceful. The best and the most 
 safe policy is, never to have recom'se to Deception, to 
 avail yom-self of Quirks, or to practise low Cimning, and 
 to prove yourself in every circumstance of your life equally 
 upright and sincere. This system is naturally that which 
 noble miads will adopt, and the dictates of an enlightened 
 and superior understanding would be sufficient to insure 
 its adoption. 
 
 JBfe^tmttlatlOn. — Lord Bacon. 
 
 DISSIMULATION is but a faint kind of policy or 
 wisdom ; for it asketh a strong vdt and a strong 
 heart to know when to teU truth, and to do it : therefore 
 it is the weaker sort of politicians that are the greatest 
 Dissemblers. 
 
1 14 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTII ; 
 
 |!30CtUty. — Manlius. 
 
 A DOCILE Disposition will, with application, sm-moiint 
 every difficulty. 
 
 JB05matts"m. — Sume. 
 
 WHERE men are the most sure and arrogant, tliey 
 are commonly the most mistaken, and hare there 
 given reins to passion, without that proper deliberation 
 and suspense, which can alone secure them from the 
 I grossest absm-dities. 
 
 i JBrtaminfl. — Byron. 
 
 I Steange state of being ! (for 'tis still to be) 
 
 j Senseless to feel, and with seal'd Eyes to see. 
 
 1 JSmmiltCj:. — Novalis. 
 
 We are near waking, when we dream that we dream. 
 
 ?3rcam^. — Colton. 
 
 METAPHYSICIANS have been learning their lesson 
 for the last fom- thousand years, and it is high time 
 that they sliotdd now begin to teach us sometliing. Can 
 any of the tribe infoim us why all the operations of the 
 mind are carried on with undiminished strength and 
 activity in Dreams, except the Judgment, which alone is 
 I suspended, and dormant ? This faculty of the mind is in 
 a state of total ineffici'^ncy diu-ing Dreams. Let any man 
 cai'efully examine his own experience on this subject, and 
 he win find that the most glaring incongi'uities of time, 
 the most palpable contradictions of place, and the grossest 
 absurdities of chcumstance, are most ghbly 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 creduhty that even in sleep could 
 reconcile such a tissue of inconsistencies. 
 
 JBrCiim^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THY spirit within thee hath been so at war, 
 And tlnis hath so bestirr'd thee in thy Sleep, 
 That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow. 
 Like bubbles in a late- disturbed stream : 
 I And in thy face strange motions have appear' 
 
 I Such as we see when men restrain their breath 
 
 <^rt some great sudden haste. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 JBrCam^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF I may trust the flattering truth of Sleep, 
 My Dreams presage some joyful news at hand : 
 My bosom's lord sits hghtly on liis throne, 
 And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spu-it 
 Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. 
 I dreamt, my lady came and fomid me dead, 
 (Strange Dream ! that gives a dead man leave to think) 
 And breath' d such hfe with kisses in my hps, 
 That I reviv'd, and was an emperor. 
 Ah me ! how sweet is life itself possest, 
 When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ? 
 
 JBrcam^. — Slalcespeare. 
 
 DEEAMS 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. 
 
 en, 
 
 DEEAMS are but interludes which Fancy makes. 
 Wlien monarch Reason sleeps, this munic wakes ; 
 Compounds a medley 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 ia Sleep we see, 
 That neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be. 
 Sometimes forgotten things, long cast behind, 
 Eush forward in the braia, and come to mind. 
 
 Mttii. — Sir Jonah Barringion. 
 
 DEESS has a moral eifect upon the conduct of mankind. 
 Let any gentleman find liimself with dirty boots, old 
 Siu-tout, soiled Neckcloth, and a general negligence of 
 Dress, he wUl, in all probabihty, find a corresponding 
 disposition by neghgence of address. 
 
 IBre^^. — Cowper. 
 
 WE sacrifice to Dress, till household joys 
 And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar di-y, 
 And keeps our larder lean. Puts out oiu' fii-es, 
 And introduces Hunger, Frost, and Woe, 
 Wliere Peace and Hospitahty might reign. 
 
1 1 6 ILLUS TBA TlOm OF TR UTH ; 
 
 J9VC^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT, is the Jay more precious than the Lark, 
 Because his feathers are more beautiful? 
 Or is tlie Adder better than the Eel, 
 Because his painted skin conteiits the eye ? 
 O, no, good Kate : neither art thoti the worse 
 For this poor Furniture, and mean Array. 
 
 ^XZii, — Anon. 
 
 IN the Bible the Body is said to be more than Eaiment. 
 But many people still read the Bible Hebrew-wise, 
 backward : and thus the general conviction now is that 
 Raunent 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. 
 
 ^Xtii. — Goldsmith. 
 
 PROCESSIONS, Cavalcades, and all that fimd 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. 
 
 IBrOtontng. — Shakespeare . 
 
 OLOED ! methought what pain it was to ch-own ! 
 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 gnawed upon. 
 
 JBrtmStnnc^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OTHOU mvisible spu-it of Wine, if thou hast no name 
 to be known by, let us call thee — Devil! * * * 
 O, that men should put an enemy in their moviths, to 
 steal away then' brains ! that we shoidd, with joy, revel, 
 pleasure, and applause, transform oui'selves into beasts ! 
 
 J9rUU]femte^;S. -— Charles Johnson. 
 
 O WHEN we swallow down 
 Intoxicating Wine, we drink Damnation ; 
 Naked we stand the sport of mocking fiends. 
 Who grin to see our noble natiire vanquish' d, 
 Subdued to beasts. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 117 
 
 SBrimltCllllCjS^. — Shemtone. 
 
 PEOPLE say, " Do not regard what he says, now he is 
 m hquor." Perhaps it is the only time he ought to 
 be regarded : Aperit preecordia liber. 
 
 Bv\nxkmm^^. — Sir Walter JRaleigh. 
 
 IT were better for a man to be subject to any vice, than 
 to Drunkenness : for all other vanities and sins are 
 recovered, but a Drunkard will never shake off the delight ■ 
 of Beastliness ; for the longer it possesseth a man, the 
 more he will dehght in it, and the elder he groweth the 
 more he shall be subject to it 5 for it dxilleth the sphits, 
 and destroyeth the body as ivy doth the old tree ; or as 
 the worm that engendereth in the kernel of the nut. 
 
 JSrimSemic^^. — Cowper. 
 
 Ten thousand Casks, 
 For ever di'ibbling 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 Co\intry bids, 
 Gloriously drunk obey th' important call, 
 Her cause demands th' assistance of yom* Tln-oats, 
 Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more. 
 
 JBrttllltCimCS^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT'S 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. 
 
 JBrunScmtc^^. — Colton. 
 
 DRUNKENNESS is the vice of a good Constitution, or 
 of a bad Memory ! of a Constitution so ti-eacherously 
 good, that it never bends until it breaks ; or of a Memory 
 that recollects the pleasures of getting di-unk, but forgets 
 the pains of getting sober. 
 
 JBttll ^t\\, — Bishop Earle. 
 
 GREAT brains (hke bi-ightest glass) crack straight, 
 while those 
 Of stone or wood hold out, and fear no blows ; 
 And we then' ancient hoary heads can see 
 Whose Wit was never their Mortality. 
 
. iBtlH Mm. — SaviUe. 
 { DULL Man is so near a dead man, that he is haidlv 
 . to be ranked m the hst of the hving ; and as he is 
 not to be bui'ied whilst he is half alive, so he is as httle to 
 be employed wliilst he is half dead. 
 
 iBllJltntj:. — Btilwer Lytion. 
 
 THE- surest way of making a Dupe is to let your Victim 
 suppose that you are his. 
 
 iStJjpItCttg. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 OWHAT may man within hun hide, 
 Though angel on the outward side ! 
 — Kant. 
 
 ■pOTH Love of Mankind, and Eespect for theh- Eights, 
 XJ are Duties ; 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 
 woixlcl give himself up to the secret emotions arismg from 
 -oeneiicence. 
 
 JBtttj). — Anon. 
 
 "D^TI-i^ ^^'^^^ consequences, and often, at a crisis 
 ot difliculty, commands us to throw them overboard. 
 ±iatJushha, per eat 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 
 i^aith. It js performed in the assurance that God will 
 take care of the consequences, and will so order the course 
 ot the world, that, whatever tlie immediate results may be, 
 His word shall not return to Him empty. 
 
 ^KXlVi Mt^tncj. — CoHon. 
 
 OLD men, it would seem, were to be found amongst 
 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 hbations of wine, as successfuUy as 
 others by potations of water ; and some by copious ap- 
 phcations of brandy and of gm seem to have kept off their 
 sunmions to the Land of Spmts. In short, it appeared 
 that many who agreed in scarcely any thing else, agreed 
 m having attained longevity. But there were only two 
 questions, in wliich they all agreed, and these two ques- 
 tions, when put, were always answered in the afHrmative 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 119 
 
 by the oldest of those Grreenwich and Chelsea pensioners 
 to whom they were proposed. The questions were these : 
 Were you descended from parents of good stamnia ? and 
 have you been in the habit of Early Rising ? Early 
 Eising, therefore, not only gives us more hfe in the same 
 number of om* years, but adds hkewise to their number ; 
 and not only enables us to enjoy more of existence in the 
 same measure of time, hut increases also the measure. 
 
 Cfarly Et^tug. — Thomson. 
 Is there aught in Sleep can chaiin the wise ? 
 To lie in dead obhvion, losing half 
 The fleeting moments of too short a life ; 
 Total extinction of the enhgliten'd soul ! 
 Or else to feverish vanity alive, 
 Wilder' d, and tossing thro' distemper'd Dreams ? 
 Who would in such a gloomy state remam 
 Longer than nature craves ; when ev'ry muse 
 And every bloommg pleasm-e wait without, 
 To bless the wildly devious Morning Walk ? 
 
 e^arly a^t^tng. — Colton. 
 
 NO 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 liim rise early, that he may have 
 the day before him, and let hun make the most of the day, 
 by determining to expend it on two sorts of acquaintance 
 only, — those by whom sometliing may be got, and those 
 from whom something may be learnt. 
 
 (i5iiruCS"tuC^^. — Anon. 
 
 THE reason why Delivery is of stich 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 Hve 
 coal that kindles others, not the dead. Nay, the same 
 principle apphes to all oratory ; and what made Demos- 
 thenes the greatest af all orators, was that he appeared 
 the most entu-ely possest by the feehngs he wished to 
 inspire. The ma;in use of his inroicpiaig was, that it 
 enabled him to remove the natural hindi-ances 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 eS"ect produced by Charles 
 Fox, who by the exaggerations of party-spu-it was often 
 
I20 ILLUSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 compared to Demosthenes, seems to have arisen -wholij 
 from tliis Earnestness, which made np for the want of 
 almost every grace, both of manner and style. 
 
 are. 
 
 DISEASED 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. 
 
 C5a^g Ccmpcr. — GrevUle. 
 
 IT is an unhappy, and yet I fear a true reflection, that 
 they who have imcommon Easiness and Softness of 
 Temper, have seldom very noble and nice sensations of 
 soul. 
 
 dSmnamyi. — SmoJcesworth. 
 
 ECONOMY 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." 
 
 ^IflfUtatuJU. — Colton. 
 
 IT is averse to talent, to be consorted and trained up 
 with inferior minds, or inferior companions, hon-ever 
 high they may rank. The foal of the racer neither finds 
 out his speed, nor calls out Ins powers, if pastured out 
 with the common herd, that are destined for the collar 
 and the yoke. 
 
 CPlfUCattOn. — Sorace. 
 
 UNLESS your cask is perfectly clean, whatever you 
 pom- into it turns sour. 
 
 CJlTttrattPlt. — Greville. 
 
 THE more perfect the nature, the more weak, the more 
 vo-ong, the more absurd, may be the something in a 
 character : to explain the paradox, if a mind is dehcate 
 and susceptiljle, false impressions in Education will have 
 a bad effect in proportion to that susceptibility, and 
 consequently, may produce an evil which a stupid and 
 msensible nature might have avoided. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 121 
 
 CFlfUCatlOn. — Shakespeare. 
 'No'W 'tis tlie sx^ring, and weeds are shallow rooted ; 
 Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden, 
 An d choke the herbs for want of husbandry. 
 
 Cf^nttS'm. — Lavater. 
 
 THE more any one speaks of himself, the less he hkes 
 to hear another talked of. 
 
 CPUfltlSin. — La JlocJiefoucauld. 
 
 HE who thmks he can find in himself the means of 
 doing without others is much mistaken ; but he who 
 thinks that others cannot do without him is still more 
 mistaken. 
 
 CfgDtt^m. — La Bruyere. 
 
 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. 
 
 ejlocittente. — Milton. 
 
 His Tongue 
 Dro]it manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to pei-plex and dash 
 Maturest counsels. 
 
 Cflotiuence. — Bryden. 
 YoTJE Words are hke the notes of dyuig swans, 
 Too sweet to last ! 
 
 (!Fl0qttatC0. — Colton. 
 
 EXTEMPORA^JEOUS and oral harangues wiU always 
 have tliis 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 
 before hand, will appear to the audience to be the effect of 
 the sudden inspu-ation of talent. Whereas similar efforts, 
 when written, although they might 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, etsi non oleant ! and 
 this circumstance it is that gives such peculiar success to 
 a pointed reply, since the hearers are certain that in this 
 case all study is out of the question, that the Eloquence 
 arises ex re nata, and that the brilliancy has been ehcited 
 fi-om the coUision of another mind, as rapidly as the spark 
 from the steel. 
 
l^^ ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ®\aq\m\tt. — Havard. 
 r\ ELOQUENCE! thou violated fail-, 
 \J How art thou woo'd, and won to either bed 
 Of Right or Wrong ! O when Injustice folds thee, 
 Dost thou not curse thy charms for pleasing him, 
 And blush at conquest ? 
 
 en. 
 
 When he spoke, what tender Words he us'd! 
 So softly, that hke flakes of feather'd snow, 
 They melted as they feU. 
 
 (!5l0tlt«:itce. — La Eoclefoucauld. 
 
 THEEE is as much Eloquence in the Tone of Yoice, in 
 the eyes, and in the an- of a Speaker, as in his choice 
 of Words. 
 
 (!5l0C);XtCnCC. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 TRUE Eloquence consists in saying all that is necessary, 
 and nothing but what is necessaiy. 
 
 CFl0qtt«n«. — Hao-e. 
 
 MANY are ambitious of saying grand things, that is, of 
 being grandiloquent. Eloquence is speaking out . . . 
 a quality few esteem, and fewer aim at. 
 
 (i5l0qt»-ltce. — Sterne. 
 
 GREAT 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. 
 
 CPmtlwnte. — Addison. 
 
 IT is a foUy for an Eminent Man to think of escaping 
 censm-e, 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. 
 
 Young. 
 
 IIFE'S cares are comforts ; such by Heav'n designed; 
 J He that has none, must make them, or be wrerched. 
 Cares are Employments ; and without Employ 
 The soul is on a rack ; the rack of rest, 
 To souls most adverse ; Action aU theu- joy. 
 CJmiJtoumcnt. — Burton. 
 
 EMPLOYMENT, which Galen calls "nature's phy 
 sician," is so essential to human happiness, that In- 
 dolence is justly considered as the mother of Misery. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 123 
 
 CfmjjIOJjm^tlt. — La Bruyere. 
 
 LAZINESS begat wearisomeness, and this put men in 
 quest of diversions, play and company, on wliich 
 however it is a constant attendant ; he who works hard, 
 has enough to do with himself otherwise. 
 
 Colter sy* — Shalcespeare. 
 
 OUR remedies oft in ourselves do he, 
 Wliicli we ascribe to Heaven : the fated sky 
 Gives us free scope ; only doth backward pull 
 Our slow designs, when we oui'selves are dull. 
 
 <S\Xtt^. — Rowe. 
 
 THE wise and active conquer difficulties. 
 By daring to attempt them : sloth and folly 
 Sliiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard, 
 And make the impossibihty they fear. 
 
 e];nj0J)m0ltt. — St. Evremond. 
 
 IMPEREECT Enjoyment is attended wdth regret; a 
 sm-feit of pleasm*e with disgust. There is a certain 
 nick of time, a certain medium to be observed, with 
 which few people are acquainted. 
 
 (!rnj01iment. — Horace. 
 
 BUSY 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 tm-n them 
 to advantage. 
 
 (Qnilyxxii^iW. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 1^ NLIST the interests of stern Morahty and rehgious 
 J Enthusiasm in the cause of Pohtical Liberty, as ia 
 tiie tune of the old Puritans, and it will be irresistible. 
 
 (!5itti)tt^ta^m. — Colton. 
 
 THE Romans laid down their liberties at the feet of 
 Nero, who would not even lend them to Csesar ; and 
 we have lately seen the whole Erench Nation rush as one 
 man from the veiy extremes of Loyalty, to behead the 
 mildest Monarch that ever ruled them, and conclude a 
 sanguinary career of plunder, by pardonmg 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 
 hved to boast of his miu-ders. 
 
1 24 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTH ; 
 
 ©ntiju^tasm. — Kant. 
 
 ENTHUSIASM is always connected with the Senses, 
 whatever be the object that excites it. The true 
 strength of Yii'tue is serenity of mind, combined with a 
 dehberate and stedfast Determination to execute her 
 laws. That is the healthfid condition of the Moral Life ; 
 on the other hand, Enthusiasm, even when excited by 
 representations of goodness, is a briUiant but feyerish 
 glow, which leaves only exhaustion and languor behind. 
 
 tlBntIjtt^taS"in. — Melmoth. 
 
 I LOOK upon Enthusiasm, in aU other points but that 
 of Eeligion, to be a very necessary turn of mind ; as 
 mdeed 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 amove. 
 
 eSutljtt^ta^m. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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 statxie ; and the commons made 
 A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts ; 
 I never saw the hke. 
 
 (Snnttt. — Byron. 
 
 FOE Ennui is a growth of Enghsh root, 
 Though nameless in our language : — we retort 
 The fact for words, and let the French translate 
 That awful Yawn which Sleep cannot abate. 
 
 CFnbll. — Spenser. 
 
 AND 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 cheaxe, hke one unto a banquet bid ; 
 And in another's losse great pleasure take, 
 As she had got thereby, and gayned a great stake. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 125 
 
 (JlttJM. — Ovid. 
 
 ENYT feeds upon tlie liying; after death it ceases; 
 then every man's well-earned Honours defend him 
 against Calumny. 
 
 (!5nt)g. — Fope. 
 
 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. 
 
 CJnby. — SJienstone. 
 
 THERE is nothing more miiversally commended than 
 a fine day ; the reason is, that people can commend 
 it without Envy. 
 
 eFn6}). — Spenser. 
 
 HER hands were foule and durtie, never washt 
 In all her hfe, with long nayles over raught. 
 Like puttock's clawes, with th' one of wliich 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 ; 
 Tliat round about her jaws one might descry 
 The bloudie gore and poyson di-oppmg loathsomely. 
 
 C^nbj). — Lord Clarendon. 
 
 IP Envy, hke Anger, did not bum itself in its own fire, 
 and consume 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. 
 
 — CoUon. 
 
 THE benevolent have the advantage of the Envious, 
 even in this present hfe ; for the Envious is tormented 
 not only by aU the iU that befalls liimself, but by all the 
 good that happens to another : whereas the benevolent 
 man is the better prepared to bear his own calamities 
 anruffled from the complacency and serenity he has 
 secured, from contemplating the prosperity of all around 
 him. 
 
 (Unbg. — Colton. 
 
 THE Hate which we all bear with the most Christian 
 Patience, is the Hate of those who Envy us. 
 
1^6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 eilby. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 GENIUS may co-exist with Wildness, Idleness, Folly, 
 eren with Crime; biit not long, beheve me, with 
 Selfishness, and the Indulgence of an Envious Disposition. 
 Envy is kcikiutos kui SiKuwrarog S'fof, as I once saw it 
 expressed somewhere in a page of Stobasus : it dwarfs and 
 withers its worshippers. 
 
 (!5nbj). — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE truest mark of being bom with great quahties is 
 being born without Envy. 
 
 CFlTfijl. — Clarendon. 
 
 ENVY is a AVeed that grows in all soils and chmates, 
 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 aU degrees. Alexander 
 was not prouder than Diogenes ; and it may be, if we 
 . wo^old endeavour to sm-prise it in its most gaudy chess 
 and attu-e, and in the exercise of its full empire and 
 tyranny, we shoidd find it in Schoolmasters and Scholars, 
 or in some Countiy Lady, or the Knight her Husband ; 
 aU which ranks of people more despise their neighbours, 
 than aU the degrees of honour in which courts abound '; 
 and it rages as much in a sordid afiected dress, as in all 
 the silks and embroideries which the excess of the age and 
 the folly of youth dehght to be adorned with. Since, 
 then, it keeps all sorts of company, and wriggles itseli 
 into the liking of the most contrary natures and dis- 
 positions, 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 aU 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, 
 
 ©ni)M. — CoUon. 
 
 TO diminish Envy, let us consider not what others 
 possess, but what they enjoy ; mere Riches may be 
 the gift of lucky accident or bhnd chance, but Happiness 
 must be the result of prudent preference and rational 
 design; the highest Happmess then can have no other 
 foundation than the deepest Wisdom ; and the happiest 
 fool is only as happy as he knows how to be. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. izy 
 
 (Snhv, — CoUon. 
 
 ENVY 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. 
 
 CJltllJI. — CoUon. 
 
 EMULATION looks out for merits that she may exalt 
 herself by a victory ; Envy spies out blemishes, that 
 she may lower another by a defeat. 
 
 e5lt&l). — Spenser. 
 
 AND next to him malicious Envy rode 
 Upon a ravenous wolfe, and still did chaw 
 Between Ids cankred teeth a venemous tode, 
 That all the poison ran about his jaw ; 
 But inwardly he chawed liis 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 wondi-ous glad. 
 
 Cqualt'ty. — Langstajf. 
 
 EQUALITY is one of the most consummate scoundrels 
 that ever crept from the brain of a political juggler — 
 a fellow who tlu-usts his hand into the pocket of honest 
 Industry or enterprising Talent, and squanders their hard- 
 earned profits on profligate Idleness or indolent Stupidity. 
 
 ©QUalttlJ. — SJtaTcespeare. 
 rjlAKE but Degree away, untune that string, 
 JL And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 
 In mere oppugnancy : The bounded waters 
 Should lift then' bosoms higher than the shores, 
 And make a sop of aU this solid globe : 
 Strength should be lord of Imbecility, 
 And the rude son should strike Ms father dead : 
 Force should be Right. 
 
 (Uljltalltjl. — From the Laiin. 
 
 IF all men w"ere 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 woiild press 
 wine? 
 
128 
 
 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR TJTIL; 
 
 fijijualttj). — ShaJces]peare. 
 
 THE King is but a Man, as I am ; the violet smells to 
 him as it doth to me ; the element shows to him as it 
 doth to me ; all his senses have but human conditions ; 
 his ceremonies laid by, in Ms nakedness he appears but a 
 Man ; and though his affections are higher mounted than 
 ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the hke wing. 
 
 (tPqualitj). — Johnson. 
 
 SO far is it from being true that men are natiu-ally equal, 
 that no two people can be half an hour together but 
 one shall acquire an evident Superiority over the other. 
 
 ((Ptlttalltjl. — Shakespeare. 
 
 ARE we not Brothers ? 
 So man and man should be : 
 But clay and clay differs in dignity, 
 Whose dust is both alike. 
 
 C5q[ttt&Otatt0U, — Shakespeare. 
 
 But yet, — 
 I do not hke but yet, it does allay 
 The good precedence ; fye upon but yet : 
 But yet is as a gaoler to bring forth 
 Some monstrous malefactor. 
 
 (I5n'0r. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0 HATEFUL EiTor, Melancholy's child! 
 Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 
 Tlie things that are not ? O Error, soon conceiv'd. 
 Thou never com'st mito a happy birth, 
 But kiU'st the mother that engender'd thee. 
 
 (ISiittm. — From the French. 
 
 MANY people are esteemed merely because they are 
 not known- 
 
 (Sitxixii^. — Dowe. 
 
 ETERNITY, thou awful Gulph of Time, 
 This wide creation on thy sxirface floats. 
 Of life — of death — what is, or what shall be, 
 I notliing know. The world is all a dream. 
 The consciousness of something that exists. 
 Yet is not what it seems. Then what am I P 
 Death must unfold the mystery 1 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. j%q 
 
 eJttrnttj}. — Addison. 
 
 I7\TERNITY, thou pleasing di-eadful Thought! 
 li Thro' what vai-iety of mitiy'd hemgs, 
 Tliro' what new scenes and changes must we pass ? 
 The wide, the unbounded Prospect Ues before me ; 
 But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. 
 
 (!5tcrnttj). — Colton. 
 
 ALAS ! what is Man ? whether he be deprived of that 
 light which is from on high, or whether he discard it ; 
 a frail and trembhng 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 stiU more perplexing on 
 the other. Most gladly would he take an observation, 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 wavering, his plummet too short. Nor is that little 
 spot, his present state, one wliit more mtelligible, 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 i 
 immeasurable ocean that he may have traversed, or that 
 stUl more formidable one that he must. 
 
 ^tnnxX^, — Colton. 
 
 nE that wiU 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. 
 
 e^ternttg. — Burnet. 
 
 WHAT is this Life but a circulation of httle mean 
 actions? We he down and rise again, dress and 
 undress, feed and wax hungry, work or play, and are 
 weary, and then we he down again, and the circle returns. 
 We spend the day in trifles, and when the night comes we 
 throw ourselves into the bed of foUy, amongst dreams, and 
 broken thoughts, and vdld unaginations. Our reason lies 
 i 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 
 I adventurers for another world. It is at least a fair and 
 I noble chance; and there is notliing in this worth our 
 
MO ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH : 
 
 tliOTights or otir 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. 
 
 <££hnixaVL. — Lavater. 
 
 EVASIONS are the common shelter of the hard-heartecl, 
 the false, and impotent, when called upon to assist ; 
 the .real great alone plan instantaneous help, even when 
 theu' looks or words presage difficulties. 
 
 ©irntUtg. — Byron. 
 
 AVE-MAEIA ! blessed be the Hour ! 
 The time, the cHme, the spot, where I so oft 
 Have felt that moment in its foUest power 
 Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, 
 Wliile 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 vnth prayer. 
 
 Soft Hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart 
 Of those who sail the seas, on the first day 
 
 Wlien they from their sweet friends are torn 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 ? 
 
 All ! surely nothitig dies but something mourns ! 
 
 (SlJCnmil. — Byron. 
 
 IT is the Hour when from the boughs 
 The Mghtingale's high note is heard ; 
 It is the Hour when lovers' vows 
 Seem sweet in every whisper' d word ; 
 And gentle winds, and waters near, 
 Make music to the lonely ear. 
 
 e^bpltintl. — Montgomery. 
 
 I LOVE thee, Twihght ! for thy gleams impart 
 Their dear, their dying influence to my heart, 
 "Wlien o'er the harp of thought thy passing wind 
 Awakens all the music of the mind. 
 And joy and sorrow, as the spirit bums, 
 And hope and memoiy sweep the chords by turns. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND Oil}. 131 
 
 C5t)0lltng JSctDS". — Chesterfield. 
 The Dews of the Evening most carefully shnn ; 
 Those tears of the sky for the loss of the sun. 
 
 — Colton. 
 
 I ADMIT the existence of Evil to its full extent, and I 
 also admit my own Ignorance, wliich is not the least 
 part of the evil I deplore. I also find, in the jnidst of 
 aU 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 shovra a degree of j)ower 
 and of wisdom far beyond my powers of comprehension. 
 I can also see so much Good proceeding from liis system 
 even here, that I am inclined to love Mm ; 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 attempting 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 asphmgs after a state that may survive this apparent 
 dissolution, and I find that I have tliis feeling in common 
 with aU the rest of my species ; I find also, on looking 
 within, that I have a mind capable of much higher dehghts 
 tlian matter or earth can afi'ord. 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 Mm at least the first link hi that order of thmgs 
 iu wMch Mind is united to Matter, 
 
 CJ&tl. — Horace. 
 
 Better one thorn pluck' d out than aU remain. 
 
 ^btl. — Chalmers. 
 
 BY the very constitution of our natixre. Moral Evil is 
 its own curse. 
 
 eijil. — South. 
 
 HE who vriH fighi the Devil at Ms own weapon, must 
 not wonder if he finds him an ovei-match. 
 
132 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRTJTK; 
 
 CF&lI. — Anon. 
 
 AS there is a law of contiauity, whereby in ascending 
 we can only motmt 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 multiphcation is more rapid than that of Evil, imless 
 it be checked ; no growth more certain. He who is ia 
 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. 
 
 (156 fl, — Menander. 
 
 ALL animals are more happy than Man. Look, for 
 instance, on yonder ass : all allow him to be miser- 
 able : liis EvUs, 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 Ihs, 
 di-aw upon ourselves a multitude of others. 
 
 dFbtl. — Shalcespeare. 
 Ill deeds are doubled with an evU word. 
 
 eaa. — couon. 
 
 THERE is this of good in Eeal Evils, — they dehver us 
 while they last from the petty despotism of all that 
 were imaginaiy. 
 
 dFfiifl. — CoUon, 
 
 EVILS in the journey of Hfe are Kke the hiQs which 
 alarm travellers upon their road ; they both appear 
 great at a distance, but when we approach them we find 
 that they are far less insmTnountable than we had con- 
 ceived. 
 
 (!56tl. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THEEE are no circimistances, however unfortimate, that 
 clever people do not extract some advantage from. 
 
 antictjpateir. — Milton, 
 
 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 ? 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 133 
 
 (I5);ttmjpl0. — Cicero. 
 
 BE a Pattern to others, and then all will go well ; for 
 as a whole city is infected by the hoentious passions 
 and vices of great men, so it is hkewise reformed by their 
 moderation. 
 
 ([5)famjJlC. — Juvenal. 
 
 EXAMPLES of vicious courses, practised in a domestic 
 circle, corrupt more readily and more deeply, when 
 we behold them in persons in authority. 
 
 fipjcamjple. — Goldsmith. 
 
 PEOPLE seldom improve, when they have no other 
 Model but themselves to copy after. 
 
 (Uji-cenins. — Coiton. 
 
 IP you want Enemies, excel others : if you want Friends, 
 let others excel you. 
 
 CJjfCClIlllCj;. — La Bruyhre. 
 
 HE who excels in liis art so as to carry it to the utmost 
 heiglit of perfection of which it is capable, may be 
 said in some measm'e to go beyond it : liis transcendent 
 productions admit of no appellations. 
 
 *Q^ttii, — Sorace. 
 
 THE Body oppressed by Excesses bears down the 
 Mmd, and depresses to the earth any portion of the 
 diviae Spirit we had been endowed with. 
 
 (Syttii, — Tacitus. 
 
 VITELLIUS possessed all that Phability and Liberality, 
 which, when not restrained vdthin due Bounds, must 
 ever tm-n to the ruin of their possessor. 
 
 (Sytt^i. — ShaJcesjpeare. 
 
 VIOLENT fires soon bum out themselves. 
 SmaU show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short; 
 He tires betimes, that spm-s too fast betimes ; 
 With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder ; 
 Light Vanity, insatiate Cormorant, 
 Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. 
 
 ^ttii. — Coiton. 
 
 THE Excesses of our youth are draughts upon our old 
 age, payable with interest, about thirty years after 
 date 
 
134- 
 
 ILLUSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 — Knox. 
 
 THE misfortune is, that when man has found honey, he 
 enters upon the feast witli an appetite so Yoracious, 
 that he usually destroys his own delight by Excess and 
 Satiety. 
 
 (Bytt^^. — Shakesipeare. 
 
 EA^'ERY Inordinate Cup is unblessed, and the ingredient 
 is a devil. 
 
 CPjTCltcmCnt. — Montaigne. 
 
 THE beasts show us plainly how much onr diseases are 
 owing to the Perturbations of our Minds. We are 
 told that the mhabitants of Brazil die merely of old age, 
 owing to the serenity and tranquillity of the air in which 
 they hve; 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 fi-om gi-eat friendships, and mortal 
 distempers from vigorous health, so do the most siu-prising 
 and the wildest phrensies from the high and lively Agita- 
 tions of our Souls. 
 
 (^pWri^C. — Coivper. 
 
 THE Sedentary stretch their lazy length 
 When custom bids, but no refreslmient find,^ — 
 Eor none they need : the languid eye, the cheek 
 Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, shrunk, 
 And wither' d muscle, and the vapid sovil, 
 Reproach their owaier with that Love of Rest 
 To which he forfeits e'en the Rest he loves. 
 415>"J)CCtattfllt. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! how Impatience gains upon the soul 
 When the long-promis'd hour of joy di'aws 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 fafr, too sweet to reahse : 
 AH seem but day-dreams of dehght too dear ! 
 Strange hopes and fears in painful contest rise, 
 Wliile the scarce-trusted bhss seems but to cheat the eyes. 
 
 eFjrjpCCtstt'an. — Shakespeare. 
 Oft Expectation fads, and most oft there 
 Where most it promises : and oft it liits 
 Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most sits. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 13S 
 
 C?)l'jprctattan. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 CFVJJCCtilttOn^. — Martial. 
 TT'OU give me notliing during yom- hfe, but you promise 
 X to provide for me at yom- death. If you are not a 
 fool, you know what I wish for. 
 
 CF):jp^ctat{0n. — ShaTcespeare. 
 So tedious is tliis day, 
 As is the night before some festival 
 To an impatient cliild, that hath new robes. 
 And may not wear them. < 
 ^);p0rtCnCE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE cannot be a perfect man, 
 Not being try'd, and tutor' d in the world ; 
 Experience is by Industry achiev'd. 
 And perfected by the swift com'se of Time. 
 
 (S:):^txitX\tt. — Shakespeare. 
 OvB, own precedent passions do instruct ua 
 "What levity's in youth. 
 
 CFjfJCriencC. — Terence. \ 
 
 NO man was ever endowed with a judgment so correct ■ 
 
 and judicious, in regulating his life, but that Circum- j 
 
 stances, Time, and Experience, would teach liim sometliing j 
 
 new, and apprise him that of those things with wliich he i 
 
 thought himself the best acquainted, he knew nothing ; j 
 
 and that those ideas, which in theory appeared the most i 
 
 advantageous, were found, when brought into practice, to | 
 
 bs altogether inapplicable. I 
 
 (Q):J^tximtt. — Coleridge. \ 
 
 TO most men Experience is like the stem lights of a ! 
 
 ship, which illumine only the track it has passed. | 
 
 (l5)-pCTt0WC0. — Byron. \ 
 
 ADVEESITY is the first path to Truth. ! 
 
 He who hath prov'd war, storm, or woman's rage, \ 
 
 Whether his winters be eighteen or eighty, _ j 
 
 Hath won the Experience which is deemed so weighty, , 
 
136 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 efjrjj^rtf ItCtr. — Sir p. Sidnei/. 
 All is but lip-wisdom which wants Experience. 
 (^JfflCrtPltCe. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 To wilM men, 
 The injuries, that they themselves procm-e, 
 Must be their school-masters. 
 
 (i^pmtntt. — Chesterfield. 
 
 TOUNG- 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 tiling than Experience ; which they eaU Coldness, 
 They are but half mistaken ; for thougli Spirit without 
 Experience is dangerous, Experience without Spirit is 
 languid and ineffective. 
 
 ^tmXKlS. — Johnson. 
 
 IN civilized society, External Advantages make us more 
 respected. A man with a good coat upon his back 
 meets with a better reception than he who has a bad one. 
 You may analyse tliis 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, and con- 
 sider any single atom ; it is, to be sure, good for nothing ; 
 I but put aU these atoms together, and you have St. Paul's 
 I church. So it is with human fehcity, which is made up 
 ! of many ingredients, each of wliichVay be shown to be 
 very insignificant. . 
 
 €F)rtra6acianre. — Pope. 
 
 FOR what has Virro painted, built, and planted ? 
 Only to show how many tastes he wanted. 
 What brought Su- Visto's ill-got wealth to waste? 
 Some demon wliisper'd, Visto ! have a taste. 
 
 Tounff. 
 
 The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, 
 Provides a home from which to run away. 
 
 CTjC &}}e. — Moore. 
 
 THOSE Eyes, whose light seem'd rather given, 
 To be ador'd than to adore — 
 Such Eyes, as may have look'd from Heaven, 
 But ne'er were raised to it before ! 
 
 0 
 
OB THINGS NEW AND OLD. 137 
 
 Ct)f — Addison. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL Eye makes Silence eloquent, a kind 
 Eye makes Contradiction an assent, an enraged Eye 
 makes" Beauty deformed. Tliis little member gives life to 
 every other part about us ; and I believe the story of 
 Argus imphes 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. • 
 Jfatt^, — Anon. 
 
 ENTIRENESS, ilUmitableness is indispensable to Eaith. 
 Wiat we believe, we must believe wholly and without 
 resei-ve ; wherefore 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 further, is none. 
 
 ^jfaitTj. — Anon. 
 
 THE power of Faith will often shine forth the most, 
 where the character is naturally weak. There is less 
 to intercept and interfere with its workings. 
 
 ^aitl). — Addison. 
 
 THE natural homage which such a creature as Man 
 bears to an infinitely wise and good God, is a firm 
 Eehance on him for the blessings and conveniences of life, 
 and an habitual Trust in him for deliverance out of aU 
 such dangers and difficulties as may befaU. us. The man 
 who always lives in this disposition of mind, when he 
 reflects upon liis ovra weakness and imperfection, comforts 
 liimself with the contemplation of those Divine attributes 
 which are employed for his safety and welfare. He finds 
 his want of foresight made up by the omniscience of Him 
 who is his support. He is not 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 
 Bemg, is powerful in liis power, wise by his wisdom, 
 happy by his happiness. 
 
 dTaifi) mss Wiaxk^. — CoUon. 
 
 WE should act with as much energy, as those who 
 expect every tiling from themselves ; and we should 
 pray with as much earnestness, as those who expect every 
 thmg from God. 
 
138 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^XXtnH^ dralltntl 0(F. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEY answer, in a joint and coi'porate Toice, 
 That now tliey are at Fall, want treasure, cannot 
 
 Do what they would ; and sorry — ^you are honoui-able, 
 
 But yet they could have wish'd — they kno-ft^ not — but 
 
 Something hath been amiss — a noble nature 
 
 May catch a wi-ench — woidd 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. 
 
 jFaI^tIj00U. — Colton. 
 
 FALSEHOOD is never so successful as when she baits 
 her hook with Truth, and that no opmions 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. 
 
 dfat^C ^ecurttjj. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 We hear this fearful tempest sing, 
 Yet seek no shelter to avoid the stonn ; 
 We see the wind sit sore upon our sads, 
 And yet we strike not, but securely perish. 
 
 ^Smt. — Colton. 
 
 OF present Fame think httle and of future less ; the 
 Praises that we receive after we are bm-ied, like the 
 posies that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying 
 to the living, but they are notloing to the dead ; the dead 
 are gone, either to a place where they hear them not, Oi 
 where, if they do, they will despise them. 
 
 ^KtiXt. — Sterne. 
 
 THE way to Fame is hke the way to Heaven — through 
 much Tribulation. 
 
 JfaittC. — ShaJcespeare, 
 G-LOET grows guilty of detested crimes ; 
 When, for Fame's sake, for Praise, an outward pai-t, 
 We bend to that the working of the heart. 
 
 ^SXIXZ. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 JF a man do not erect in tliis age his own tomb ere he 
 dies, he shall live no longer iu monument than the bell 
 rings, and the widow weeps. 
 
OB. THIN a 8 NEW AND OLD. 13s 
 
 ^KXXit. — Shakespeare. 
 Death mates no conquest of this conqueror ; 
 For now he lives in Fame, though not in hfe. 
 
 ^E\\\t> — Shakespeare. 
 The EtlI, that men do, hves after them ; 
 The Good is oft interred with their bones. 
 
 JTainC. — Byron. 
 
 THY fanes, thy temple, to the surface bow, 
 Comminghng slowly with heroic earth, 
 Broke by the share of every rustic plough : 
 So perish monuments of mortal Birth, 
 To perish all ia turn, save well-recorded Worth. 
 ^antC. — Byron. 
 
 WHAT of them is left, to teU 
 Where they lie, and how they fell ? 
 Not a stone on then- turf, nor a bone in their graves 1 
 But they hve in the Yerse that immortally saves. 
 ;fante. — Moore. 
 
 WHO, that sm'veys this span of earth we press 
 This speck of hfe in time's great wUderness, 
 This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas. 
 The past, the futm-e, two eternities ! 
 Would srdly the bright spot, or leave it bare, 
 When he might biuld him a proud Temple there, 
 A Name, that long shall hallow all its space, 
 And be each purer soul's high resting-place ! 
 
 jfantC. — Shakespeare. 
 Men's Evil Manners live in brass : their Yirtues 
 We write in water. 
 
 ^KVnt. — Byron. 
 ? rpiS as a snowball which derives assistance 
 
 X From every flake, and yet rolls on the same^ 
 Even tiU an iceberg it may chance to grow ; 
 But after aU 'tis notlaing but cold snow. 
 
 ^Kmt. — Young. 
 
 OF boasting more than of a bomb afraid, 
 A soldier should be modest as a maid : 
 Fame is a bubble the reserv'd enjoy : 
 Who strive to grasp it, as they touch, destroy | 
 'Tis the world's debt to deeds of high degree j 
 Bni-, if vou pay yom-self, the woi'ld is free. 
 
1 4-0 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB TJTR ; 
 
 jfamC. — Young. 
 
 Pame is a public mistress, none enjoys, 
 But, more or less, his riral's peace destroys. 
 
 WHAT'S Fame? a fancy'd life in others' breath, 
 A thing beyond us, ev'n 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 and friends ; 
 To all beside as much an empty shade 
 An Eugene living, as a Csesar dead. 
 
 JFamc. — Milton. 
 
 FAME is the spm- that the clear sp'rit doth raise 
 (That last mfu-mity of noble mind) 
 To scorn dehghts, and live laborious days ; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 And think to burst out mto sudden blaze, 
 Comes the bhnd Fury with th' abhorr'd sheai's, 
 And shts the tliin-spun hfe. 
 
 jfamt. — Young. 
 
 SOME, 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 liv'd, I leave a mark behiad, 
 Shall pluck the shining age from vulgar trtae, 
 And give it whole to late Posterity. 
 
 • Etterarg jFame. — Voltaire. 
 
 THE 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 yom* portion ; 
 if you succeed in your object, a host of enemies spring up 
 around you : thus you find yourself on the bruik of an 
 abyss between Contempt and Hatred. 
 
 JTaitCU. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TELL me, where is Fancy bred. 
 Or in the Heart, or in the Head ? 
 How begot, how nom-ished ? 
 It is engender' d in the eyes, 
 With gazing fed ; and Fancy diea 
 In the Craclle where it hes. 
 
OB, TEINGS NEW AND OLD. 14.1 
 
 jfa^]^t0n. — Oreville. 
 
 WE latigli 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 ? 
 
 JTa^TfjlOri' — Shakespeare. 
 Wheee doth the World tln-ust forth a Vanity, 
 (Lo, be it new, there's no respect how vile,) 
 That is not quickly buzz'd into the ears ? 
 Jfas"Ijt0U. — Churchill. 
 Fashion, a word which knaves and fools may use, 
 Thch knavery and folly to excuse. 
 
 ^Z.it. — - Horace. 
 
 WITH 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. 
 
 JfabOttr. — La Bruyere. 
 
 FAYOUR exalts a man above his equals, but liis dis- 
 missal from that Favour places him below them. 
 
 jfa60Ur^. — Fuhlius Syrius. 
 
 IT is conferring a kindness, to deny at once a FaTOtir 
 which you intended to refuse. 
 
 Jfear. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 THE passion of Fear (as a modem philosopher informs 
 me) determines the spirits to the muscles of the knees, 
 wliich 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. 
 
 jTcaf. — 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. 
 
 ^tKt* — Shakespeare. 
 I ITND the people strangely fantasied ; 
 Possess'd with Eumours, full of idle Dreams ; 
 Not knowing what they fear, but fiill of Fear. 
 
142 ILL U8TBA TIONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 ^tSV* — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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 ; jfreeze thy young blood ; 
 Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from theh spheres j 
 Thy knotted and combined locks to part, 
 And each particular hau* to stand on end, 
 Like quills vipon the fretful porcupine. 
 
 Jftar. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THIS man's brow, hke to a title-leaf. 
 Foretells the natm-e of a tragic volimie : 
 So looks the strong, whereon the imperious flood 
 Hath left a witness' d usvirpation. 
 Thou tremblest ; 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 ia look, so woe-begone. 
 Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, 
 And would haye told him half his Troy was bum'd. 
 
 <S]E)0^tlM jr^ar. — Shakespeare. 
 
 What man dare, I dare ; 
 Approach thou hke the rugged Russian bear, 
 The arm'd Ehinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger, 
 Take any shape but that, and my fii-m nerves 
 Shall never tremble : or, be ahve again. 
 And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 
 If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me 
 The baby of a gu'l. Hence, horrible shadow I 
 Um'eal Mockery, hence ! 
 
 dfea^ttltfl. — Clarendon. 
 
 IT is not the quantity of the Meat, but the cheerfulness 
 of the guests, which makes the Feast ; at the I'east of 
 'ehe Centam-s, they ate with one hand, and had their drawn 
 swords in the other ; where there is no peace, there can 
 be no Feast. 
 
 xfca^tmfl. — Byron. 
 
 BUT 'twas a pubhc Feast, and pubhc day, 
 Quite full, right dull, guests hot, and Dishes cold, 
 Great plenty, much formality, small Cheer, 
 And everybody out of their own sphere. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 143 
 
 Jfgas"ttnS. — Peter Pindar. 
 The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find, 
 Lies thi'ough their mouths, or I mistake mankind. 
 
 ^mitiXiVi. — Byron. 
 
 Of all appeals, — although 
 I grant the power of pathos, and of gold, 
 
 Of beauty, flattery, thi-eats, a shUling, — no 
 Methods more sure at moments to take hold, 
 
 Of the best feelnigs of mankind, which grow 
 More tender, as we every day behold, 
 
 Than that aU-softening, overpow'ring kneU, 
 
 The tocsin of the soul — the Dinner BeU. 
 
 ^ttlxw^. — RicMer. 
 
 THE last, best fi-uit which comes to late perfection, even 
 in the kindliest soul, is. Tenderness toward the hard. 
 Forbearance toward the unforbearing. Warmth of Heart 
 toward the cold. Philanthropy toward the misantliropic. 
 
 ^jrccltng. — Coiton. 
 
 IT is far more easy not to feel, than always to feel rightly, 
 and not to act, than always to act weU. For he that 
 is determined to admu-e only that which is beautiful, im- 
 poses a much harder task upon liimself than he that, being 
 determined not to see that which is the contrary, effects it 
 by simply shutting his eyes. 
 
 ^zt\in%. — Scott. 
 With haughty Laugh his head he tum'd. 
 And dash'd away the Tear he scorn' d. 
 
 ^tt\ix\%. — Scott. 
 He tum'd away— his Heart throbb'd high, 
 The tear was bm-sting from his eye. 
 
 jfjcltltfl. — Shakespeare. 
 O Heeo ! what a Hero had'st thou been, 
 If half thy outward graces had been placed 
 About thy thoughts, and counsels of thy Heart. 
 
 Jf^Clmfl. — Byron. 
 
 I WISH' D but for a single Tear, 
 As something welcome, new, and dear ; 
 I wish'd it then, I wish it stiU, 
 Despair is stronger than my will. 
 
144- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE ; 
 
 ^frcltncs:. — Steme. 
 
 A WORD — a Look, which at one time would make no 
 impression— at another time wounds the Heart ; and 
 hke a shaft flying witli the wind, pierces deep, which, with 
 its own natiu'al force, would scarce have reached the 
 ohject aimed at. 
 
 ^CCltrtg. — La Rochefoucauld,. 
 
 WHEN 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 cm-ed. 
 
 JFMmfl. — Byron. 
 
 In a gushing stream 
 The Tears rush'd forth from her unclouded Brain 
 Like moimtain mists, at length dissolv'd in rain. 
 
 Jff cling. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHY 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 thi'ongs with one that swoons ; 
 Come all to help him, and so stop the air 
 By which he should reyive. 
 
 JFCCltUCJ. — ShaJcespeare. 
 How sometimes Natm-e will betray its FoUy, 
 Its Tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
 To harder bosoms ! 
 
 ^tt\m% ajtif Mea^on. — Ziegler. 
 
 THE Heart of Man is older than his Head. The first- 
 born is sensitive, but bhnd — ^his younger brother has 
 a cold, but all-comprehensive glance. The blind must 
 consent to be led by the clear-sighted if he would avoid 
 falling. 
 
 dfctltng anlr l^tKian, — Anon. 
 
 SOME people carry their Hearts in their Heads ; very 
 many carry their Heads in their Hearts. The diffi- 
 ciilty is to keep them apart, and yet both actively working 
 together. 
 
 OTant 0f JTMutOf. — Juvenal. 
 Who can aU Sense of others' ills escape, 
 Is but a brute, at best, in human shape. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 145 
 
 ;Jftll€lttj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 THOUG-H all the world should crack their Duty 
 And throw it from then- 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 rirer break, 
 And stand unshaken yours. 
 
 JftTJtlttg. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 I DURST, my lord, to wager she is honest, 
 Lay down my soul at stake : if you think other, 
 Eemove your thought ; it doth abuse your bosom. 
 If any wretch hath put this in joxcc 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. 
 
 ^ttfelttj). — Shalcespeare. 
 
 HE which hath no stomach to this fight. 
 Let liim depart, liis 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. 
 I speak not tliis, 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 iirfect another, 
 And make him of like spuit to himself. 
 If any such be here, as God forbid ! 
 Let him. depart, before we need his help. 
 
 jfttfelltg. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 IF to preserve this vessel for my lord, 
 From any other fo\il unlawful touch, 
 Be— not to be a strumpet, I am none. 
 False to Ms bed ! What is it to be false ? 
 To he in watch there, and to think on Imn ? 
 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 Hs bed, 
 
 Is it ? ^ , 
 
 TJnkmdness may do much ; 
 
 And his unkindness may defeat my Ufe, 
 
 But never taiat my Love. 
 
h6 illustrations of TBUTR; 
 
 dTltfCltty. — SJiaTcesjpeare. 
 He that can endiu'e 
 To follow witli Allegiance a fallen lord, 
 Does conquer him that did liis master conquer, 
 And earns a place i' the story. 
 
 dTtircIttj). — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 I'll jet follow 
 The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason 
 Sits in the wind against me. 
 
 ^xSStlii^. — Shaleespeare. 
 But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic ; 
 And manhood is call'd Foolery, when it stands 
 Against a falling fabric. 
 
 dfitf^Ittg. — Shaleespeare. 
 
 I AM constant as the Northern Star, 
 Of whose true-fix' d, and resting QuaUty, 
 There is no fellow in the fh-mament. 
 
 ^tifClttj). — ShaJcespeare. 
 O Heaven ! were Man 
 
 But constant, he were perfect : that one Error 
 1111s him with faults. 
 
 Jfttfplttj), — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 I HAVE five hundred crowns, 
 The thrifty hire I sav'd under yoiir Father, 
 Which I did store, to be my foster nm-se, 
 \VTien service shoiild in my old limbs lie lame. 
 And unregarded age in comers thi-own. 
 Take that : and He that doth the ravens feed. 
 Yea, providently caters for the spai-row, 
 Be comfort to thy age ! 
 
 ;iritftltty. — Byron. 
 
 THOTJG-H human, thou didst not deceive me, 
 Though woman, thou didst not forsake. 
 Though lov'd, thou forborest 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 behe. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 147 
 
 JfltJ^litj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Chain me with roaring bears ; 
 •^r shut me nightly in a charnel-house, 
 O'er-coTer'd quite with dead men's ratthng bones, 
 With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless skulls ; 
 Or bid me go into a new-made grave, 
 Ard liide me with a dead man in iiis shroud ; 
 Tilings that, to hear them told, have made me tremble ; 
 y\!id I will do it without Fear or Doubt, 
 Tj hve an unstain'd Wife of my sweet Love. 
 
 dfiMitj). — Moore. 
 
 COME, rest ia this bosom, my owm stricken deer! 
 Tho' the herd hath fled from thee, thy home is stiU here ; 
 Here is still the smile that no cloud can o'ercast. 
 And the heart and the hand aR thy own to the Last ! 
 
 ^iwtX^, — Shakespeare. 
 All that glisters is not Grold, 
 Gilded Tombs do Worms infold. 
 
 ^ixit EmprCS^tOU^. — Sorace. 
 What season' d first the Vessel, keeps the Taste. 
 
 dTlattcrji. — Anon. 
 When Flatterers meet, the Devil goes to Dinner. 
 
 ^nXiSX-Q. — Greville. 
 
 WE do not always like people the better, for paying us 
 all the Court which we ourselves think our due. 
 
 dflattog. — Colton. 
 
 FLATTERY is often a traffic of Mutual Meanness, 
 where, although both parties intend Deception, neither 
 are deceived. 
 
 dflatterg. — Jean Paul. 
 Men find it more easy to Flatter than to Praise. 
 
 jflattcrg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 Flattered. 
 
148 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 JfTatt^l'S* — ShaJcespeare, 
 
 Be not fond, 
 To think that Cssar bears such rebel blood, 
 That will be thaw'd from the true quality 
 With that which melteth Eoola ; I mean, Sweet Words, 
 Low-crooked Cm't'sies, and base Spaniel Fawning. 
 
 Jflatterj). — Shakespeare. 
 Totr play the Spaniel, 
 And think with wagging of your Tongue to win me 
 
 JTatt0rg. — ShaTeespeare. 
 
 Why these looks of Care ? 
 Thy Flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, he soft ; 
 Hug their diseas'd perfumes, and have forgot 
 That ever Timon was. Shame not these words. 
 By putting on the cunning of a Cai-per. 
 Be thou a Flatterer now, and seek to thrive 
 By that which has undone thee : hinge thy Knee, 
 And let his veiy breath, whom thou'lt observe. 
 Blow off thy cap ; praise his most vicious strain, 
 And call it excellent. 
 
 dTIattarj). — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 AH ! when the means are gone, that buy tliis Praise, 
 The Breath is gone whereof this Praise is made : 
 Feast-won, fast-lost ; one cloud of whiter showers. 
 These flies ai-e couch' d. 
 
 Jflattcry. — Shalcespeare. 
 Why, what a deal of candied Courtesy, 
 Tills fawning Greyhotmd then did proffer me ! 
 The DevH take such Cozeners ! — God forgive me ! 
 
 JTIattWM. — ShaJcespeare. 
 No visor does become black Yillany 
 So well as soft and tender Flattery. 
 
 JFIattcrg. — ShaJcespeare. 
 He that loves to be Flattered is worthy o' the Flatterer. 
 
 iflattou. — Hannah More. 
 
 Hoid! 
 
 No Adulation : 'tis the Death of Virtue ! 
 Wlio flatters is of aU mankmd the lowest, 
 Save he who courts the Flatteiy. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 149 
 
 Jflattni). — Otway. 
 
 NO Platt'ry, boy ! an honest man can't live by't : 
 It is a little sneaking art, which knayes 
 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. 
 
 |r\t»sltl ;{flattn:w. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEY do abuse the Kmg that flatter lum : 
 For Flattery is the beUows blows up sia ; 
 The thing the wliich is flatter' d, but a sijark, 
 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. 
 
 %\)Z jr0fll. — GoetU. 
 
 OF all thieves Fools are the worst: they rob you of 
 time and temper. 
 
 Snijg dTcfll. — -^a Bruyhre. 
 
 A FOOL cannot look, nor stand, nor walk like a man 
 of sense. 
 
 %\)t dFOfll. — Anon. 
 
 HE must be a thorough Fool who can leam notliing 
 from his own FoUy. 
 
 ^aXixti, — La Uoeliefoueauld. 
 There are FoUies as catcliing as contagious disorders. 
 
 Jfflllg, — Colton. 
 A FOOL is often as dangerous to deal with as a Knave, 
 xJL and always more incorrigible. 
 
 ^Ollg. — • SJialcespeare. 
 
 NONE are so surely caught, when tliey are catch' d. 
 As Wit turn'd Fool : FoUy, 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 Gri-avity's revolt to wantonness. 
 Folly m 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 iu Simphcity. 
 
I50 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRVTS; 
 
 dFoHy. — Sare. 
 NoKE Lvit a Fool is always right. 
 dTfljPiJCrg. — Jolmson. 
 
 FOPPEEY 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. ' 
 
 jrnrS^arsiTcc. — Ejpictetus. 
 
 EYEEY 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 injm-y, do not 
 take it by the hot and hard handle, by representing to 
 yourself all the aggravating circumstances of the fact ;%ut } 
 look rather on the soft side, and extenuate it as much as 
 is possible, by considering the nearness of the relation, and 
 the long friendsliip and famhiarity between you — obliga- 
 tions to kindness which a single provocation ought not 
 to dissolve. And thus you will take the accident by its i 
 manageable handle. ! 
 
 ^axiitmmtt. — ShaJce.ipeare. \ 
 
 USE eveiy man after his desert, and who shall 'scape i 
 whipping ? 
 
 dTflriiearance. — Fuller. 
 
 Ip thou wouldst be borne with, bear vdth others. 
 ffaxziivfyt. — Colton. 
 
 ACCUSTOM yourself to sixbmit on all and every oc- 
 casion, and on the most minute, no less than on the 
 most important circumstances of hfe, to a small Present 
 Evil, to obtain a greater Distant Good. Tliis will give ' 
 decision, tone, and energy to the Mind, which, thus ' 
 chsciplined, whl often reap victory from defeat, and honour 
 fi-om repulse. 
 
 J'0lTS"igl)t. — SJiakes-peare. 
 To fear the worst, oft cures the worst. 
 
 xfOrSlbeitC^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THOXTG-H with theu* high wrongs I am struck to the 
 quick, 
 
 Yet, with my nobler Eeason, against my Fury, 
 Do I take part : the rarer action is 
 In Vu'tue than in Yengeance. 
 
OR, THINGS Ni:W AND OLD. 151 
 
 JfOrStbene^^. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Kneel not to me : 
 The power that I have on you, is to spare you ; 
 The mahce towards you, to forgive you : hve, 
 And deal with others better. 
 
 jr0rm^. — Sare. 
 
 OF what use are Forms, seeuig that at times they are 
 empty ? 
 
 Of the same use as barrels, which at times are empty too. 
 
 JlirttttttfC. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Bid that welcome 
 Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, 
 Seeming to bear it hghtly. 
 
 ;^0rtttuife. — Shalcespeare, 
 
 WISE men ne'er sit and wail their loss. 
 But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. 
 "What though the mast be now blown over-board. 
 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 hehn, 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 coxirage might have saved ? 
 
 ^fiXtiiVLtit, — Shalcespeare. 
 i The Mind I sway by, and the Heart I bear, 
 j ShaR never sagg with Doubt, nor shake with Fear. 
 
 JfOrtltttXfC, — Thomson. 
 
 THE himian race are sons of Sorrow bom ; 
 And each must have his portion. Vulgar minds 
 Refuse, or crouch beneath their load ; the Brave 
 i Bear theirs without repining. 
 
 I jf0rt^t^t^fC. — Byron. 
 
 HAYE I not had my brain sear'd, my heart riven, 
 Hopes sapp'd, name blighted, hfe's life hed away ? 
 j And only not to Desperation driven, 
 I Because not altogether of such clay, 
 i As rots into the soul of those wliom I survey. 
 
1 5* ILL USTEA TIONS OF TR UTH; 
 
 ^OXtiiuSit. — Byron. 
 
 EXISTENCE may be bome, and the deep root 
 Of Life and Suiferance 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 vaia 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. 
 
 ^artttttlfg. — Shakespeare. 
 Though Fortune's mahce overthrow my state, 
 My Mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. 
 
 JTartlttllJe. — Channing. 
 
 THE greatest man is he who chooses the right with 
 invincible Eesolution : who resists the sorest tempta* 
 tions fi'om within and without ; who bears the heaviest 
 bm-dens cheerfully; who is the calmest in stoi-ms, and i 
 whose rehance on Truth, on Virtue, on Grod, is the most 
 unfaltering. 
 
 JtortttttlfC. — Addison. 
 
 Teue Fortitude is seen in great exploits 
 
 That Justice warrants, and' that Wisdom guides : 
 
 All else is tow'ring Phrensy and Distraction. 
 
 dTflrtitttUe. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 TIME hath not yet so dried this Blood of mine, 
 Nor Age so eat up my invention, 
 Nor Fortune made such havoc of my Means, 
 Nor my bad life reft me so much of Friends, 
 But they shall find awak'd, in such a kind, 
 Both strength of limb, and Pohcy of Mind, 
 Abihty in Means, and choice of Friends 
 To quit me of them thoroughly. 
 
 ^axtwnz. — Shalcespeare. 
 Op Nature's Gifts thou may'st with lihes boast, 
 And with the half- blown rose : but Fortune, 0 1 
 She is con-upted, chang'd, and won fi'om thee. 
 
 ^axiUXit, — CoUon. 
 
 THERE are some men who are Fortmie's Favourites, 
 and who, hke cats, hght for ever upon theh legs. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLB. 153 
 
 JfjOrtunC. — Thomson. 
 
 Oft, wliat seems 
 A trifle, a mere nothing, by itself. 
 In some nice situations, turns the scale 
 Of Fate, and rules the most important actions. 
 
 ;jffltttUt0. — ShaTcespeai-e. 
 
 FOETTJXE is meiiy, 
 And ia this mood wiU give us anything. 
 
 ^fiXiwWZ, — From the French. 
 
 GOOD Fortune and Bad are equally necessary to Man, 
 to fit him to meet the contingencies of this life. 
 JfOVtimC. — Goldsmith. 
 
 WHAT real good does an addition to a fortune already 
 sufficient, procm-e? Not any. Coidd the great 
 man, by having liis Fortune increased, increase also his 
 appetites, then precedence might be attended with real 
 amusement. 
 
 ;Jf0rtutt0. — Greville. 
 
 SUEELY no man can reflect, without wonder, upon the 
 Vicissitudes of Human Life, arisuig fi-om causes in the 
 highest degree accidental and triflmg. If you trace the 
 necessary concatenation of Human Events, a very little 
 way back, you mav perhaps discover that a person's very 
 going in or out of "a door has been the means of colourmg 
 with misery or happiness the remaining current of his life. 
 
 jTortttlUJ. — Montaigne. 
 
 FORTUNE does us neither good nor hurt ; she only 
 presents us the matter and the seed, wliich om- soul, 
 more powerful than she, turns and apphes as she best 
 pleases, being the sole cause and sovereign mistress of her 
 own happy or unhappy condition. All external accessions 
 receive taste and coloirr from the internal constitution,^ as 
 clothes warm us not with their heat, but our own, which 
 they are adapted to cover and keep in. 
 
 iffavtxnxc. — Rousseau. 
 We do not know what is really Oood or Bad Fortune. 
 
 jfOl'ttni0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 GOOD or Bad Fortune generally pi^i-sues those who 
 have the greatest share of either. The prosperous 
 ' man seems as a magnet to attract Prosperity. 
 
1 54 ILL US TEA TIONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 ^QxXwnt. — La MocJiefoucauld. 
 
 THE G-ood or the Bad Fortune of men depends not less 
 upon their own dispositions than upon Fortune. 
 
 fortune. — Tacitus. 
 
 THERE are many Men who appear to be struggling 
 against Adversity, and yet are happy ; but yet more" 
 who, although abounding in Wealth, are miserable. 
 
 Wartime. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE should manage oiu' 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. 
 
 dTorttUlC. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 THE moderation of Fortimate People comes from the 
 cahn wliich Good Fortxme gives to their tempers. 
 
 JFOrtttnt. — Shenstone. 
 
 THE worst inconvenience of a Small Fortiine is that it 
 will not admit of inadvertency. 
 
 ^axi^XXl^, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 IT requires greater vh-tues to support Good than Bad 
 Fortune. 
 
 ^layilta; iutt?) JpartrntC. — Slmlcespeare. 
 
 HAPPINESS courts thee in her best array ; 
 But, hke a misbehav'd and sullen wench. 
 Thou pout'st upon thy Fortune and thy Love. 
 Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. 
 
 ^XKXXkxXtii. — RucMngJiam. 
 Make my breast 
 Transparent as pure Crystal, that the world, 
 J ealous of me, may see the foulest thought 
 My Heart does hold. 
 
 trttiM fxzt. — Horace. 
 
 WHO then is Free ? — The Wise, who weU 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 ; 
 PoHsh'd and round, who runs his proper course, 
 And breaks Misfortune with superior force. * 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 155 
 
 J^rC£^r0m. — Hahel. 
 
 To have Freedom, is only to have that wMcla is abso- j 
 lutely necessary to enable us to be what we ought to 
 be, and to possess what we ought to possess. 
 
 JfrtCJtlJ^i)tJ). — Joanna Baillie. 
 Friendship is no plant of hasty growth. 
 Though planted in Esteem's deep fixed soil, 
 The gradual cultm-e of kind Intercourse 
 Must bring it to perfection. j 
 
 ^CtCltU^ijtJl. — 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. 
 
 3FrtCITtf^T;tJI. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Thoti art e'en as just a Man, 
 As e'er my conversation cop'd 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' u ? 
 No, let the candied tongue hck absurd Pomp, 
 And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, 
 Where tlu-ift 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 her self. For thou hast been 
 As one, in suffering all, that stifTers nothing : 
 A Man, that Fortune's buffets and rewards 
 Hast ta'en with equal thanks. And blest are those, 1 
 Wliose blood and judgment are so well commingled, | 
 That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger 
 To soimd what stop she please. Grive 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. 
 
 jfrtCntf^IjtiJ. — Lavater. 
 
 THE qiiahties of your Friends wUl be those of your 
 Enemies : cold Friends, cold Enemies ; half Friends, 
 half Enemies ; fervid Enemies, warm Friends. 
 
 JTrt'CUtlS'IjlJ). — ShaJcespeare. 
 The Amity that Wisdom knits not, FoUy may easily untie. 
 
15(5 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ;jfriClTtfsI)tjp, — Melmoth. 
 
 THOTIGrll judgment must collect the materials of the 
 goodly structui-e of Friendsliip, it is Affection that 
 gives the cement ; and Passion as well as Reason should 
 concxir in formiag a firm and lasting coalition. Hence, 
 perhaps, it is, that not only the most powerfid, but the 
 most lasting Friendsliips are usually the produce of the 
 early season of oiu- hves, when we are most susceptible of 
 tiie warm and affectionate impressions. The connections 
 into which we enter at any after period, decrease in 
 strength as our passions abate in heat. 
 
 ^jfrt'^ntfsljtjp. — Cicero. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP is the only tiling in the world concern- 
 ing the usefulness of which all mankind are agreed. 
 
 dfrmtlj^IjijJ. — Horace. 
 
 Wise were the Kings who never chose a Friend 
 TUl with fidl cups they had unmask' d his Soid, 
 And seen the bottom of his deepest thoughts. 
 
 xJTrt^utfS^yJ. — GrevUU. 
 
 To say, with La Rochefoucauld, that " in the adversity 
 of our best Friends, there is sometlung 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 beheve the first is false, 
 and the latter true. 
 
 ^Jfrteltlf^l^ljl. — Colton. 
 
 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 preferable to bad, because we are more 
 apt to catch the vices of others than theh' vu'tues, as dis- 
 ease is far more contagious than health. 
 
 Jl•t^n^f^]^t^). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Feiends condemn'd 
 Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, 
 Leather a himdrecl times to part than die. 
 
 dTrtcnU^Ijtjp. — Sallust. 
 
 TO be influenced by a passion for the same pursuits, 
 and to have similar dishkes, is the rational ground- 
 work of lasting Friendship. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. i s7 
 
 Jfrteltlr^IjtJJ. — Socrates. 
 
 GET not your Friends by bare compliments, but by 
 giving them sensible tokens of your love. It is well 
 worth wlule 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 pleasm-e. Excite them by your 
 civilities, and show them that you desire nothing more 
 than their satisfaction; obhge with all your soul that 
 Friend who has made you a present of his own. 
 
 JfrtCntfjSl^tjp. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 IS all the Counsel that we two have shared, 
 The Sisters' Yows, the hoiu-s that we have spent, 
 When we have chid the hasty-footed time 
 For parting us, — O, and is all forgot ? 
 AU school-days' Friendship, Childhood Innocence ? 
 We, Hermia, hke two artificial gods, 
 Have with om* neelds created both one flower, 
 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; 
 As if om- 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, hke coats m hei-aldry, 
 Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. 
 And win you rend our ancient Love asunder ? 
 
 jFrtCntfsljlp. — Southern. 
 
 FEIENDSHIP is power and riches ah to mi ; 
 Friendship's another element of hfe : 
 Water and fii-e not of more general use. 
 To the support and comfort of the world, 
 Than Friendship to the being of my joy : 
 I would do everything to serve a IViend. 
 
 jfrtClttr^IjlJJ. — CoUon. 
 
 AN act, by which we make one Friend and one Enemy, 
 is a losiiig game ; because Revenge is a much stronger 
 principle than Grratitude. 
 
I5S ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 dFrt«ntf^i)t]p. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 THOTJ maysfc be sure that he who will m private tell 
 thee of thy faults, is thy Friend, for he adventittes 
 thy dishke, and doth hazard thy hatred ; for there are 
 few men that can endui-e it, every man for the most part 
 delighting in self-praise, which is one of the most miivCTsal 
 fckllies that bewitcheth mankind. 
 
 ^X:mxiSi\)i$. — Young. 
 
 CELESTIAL Happiness ! Wliene' er she stoops 
 To visit earth, one slu-ine 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. 
 
 dfrt'ntMjtJ). — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 THEEE 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 
 vu1;uous, and none of those that follow thee for gain • but 
 make election rather of thy betters, than thy inferior^ 
 shunnmg always such as are needy ; for if thou givest 
 twenty gifts, and refuse to do the Hke but once, all that 
 ttiou hast done will be lost, and such men will become I 
 thy mortal enemies. 
 
 JrtenlfS^^I. — Sir PJiilip Sidney. \ 
 rpHE lightsome countenance of a Friend giveth such an i 
 -L mward decking to the house where it lodgeth, as 
 proudest palaces have cause to envy the gildiag. 
 
 dTrtClttf^^tlJ. — Shakesp eare. 
 
 BY Heav'n, I cannot flatter : I defy 
 The tongues of soothera ; but a braver place i 
 In my Heart's Love hath no man than yom-self j i 
 Nay, task me to my word ; approve me. ! 
 
 J^l•tel^^^s■^)t^l. — Fuller. I 
 
 LET Friendship creep gently to a height ; if it inish to ! 
 it, it may soon run itself out of breatli. | 
 
 ^XmxSSilyi^, — Johnson. ! 
 a man does not make new Aequaintance as he ad- 
 
 vances thi-ough life, he wiQ soon find hhnself left alone. I 
 
 A man should keep his Friendsliip in constant repair. I 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 159 
 
 jTrtCnifS^tJI. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 BuuTUS hath riv'd. my heart : 
 A Fi-iend should bear his Eriend's infirmities, 
 But Bratus makes mine greater than they ai-e. 
 
 dTrtClltf^l^tjp. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THEEE 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 
 mconvenience. Such speculatists, by expectmg too much 
 from Priendslaip, dissolve the connection, and by drawing 
 tlie bands too closely, at length break them. 
 
 JTrfcutfsIjtJI. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 SOMETHIJN'a hke home that is not home, hke alone 
 that is not alone, is to be wished, and only foimd in i 
 Friend, or in his house. 
 
 ^rt£nif^l)tj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 In Companions 
 That do converse and waste the time together, 
 Wliose Souls do bear an equal Yoke of Love, 
 There must be needs a like proportion 
 Of hneaments, of manners, and of spuit. 
 
 dfrt'mlf^ljtj). — Chesterfield. 
 
 REAL Friendship is a slow grower ; and never thrives, 
 unless engrafted upon a stock of known and reciprocal 
 Merit. 
 
 jrrtotlfS"l^t]p. — Sawlcesworth. 
 
 FEW men are calculated for that close connection 
 which we distinguish by the appellation of Friend- 
 ship : the Acquaintance is in a post of progression ; and 
 after having passed through a course of proper experience, 
 ! and given sufficient evidence of hia mei-it, takes a new 
 title. 
 
 JTl'tenlfS'^tJI. — Catherine Phillips. 
 
 ESSENTIAL honour must be in a Friend, 
 I Not such as every breath fans to and fro ; 
 
 j 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. 
 
I 'J 0 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TR UTH; 
 
 drritnU^I;{}). — Shakespeare. 
 GiTE tliy thoughts no tongue, 
 Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 
 Be thou famihar, 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, unfledg'd comrade. 
 
 ^Xim^^lyx^, ~- Chesterfield. 
 
 THOSE who in the common course of the world will 
 call themselves youi- Eriends ; or whom, accordino- to 
 the common notions of Eriendship, you may probabh 
 think such, will never tell you of your faults, stUl less of 
 yom- weaknesses. But on the contrary, more desirous to 
 make you their Eriend than to prove themselves yours, 
 they will flatter both, and, in truth, not be sony for eitlierl 
 
 jTrtatif^Ijtjp. — La Fontaine. 
 
 NOTHING- is more dangerous than a Eriend without 
 discretion ; even a prudent Enemy is preferable. 
 
 J'riClllf^i)^?' — F'l'om the Latin. 
 
 OE no worldly good can the enjoyment be perfect, 
 unless it is shared by a Eriend. 
 
 ^XiZVdSi^X^, — Hazlitt. 
 
 The youth of Eriendship is better than its old age. 
 
 d^rten^f^^Jtjp. — Fuller. 
 
 MAKE not thy Eiiends too cheap to thee, nor thyself 
 to thy Eriend. 
 
 dTrtCtttf^l^ijI. — Clarendon. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP is compounded of aU those soft in- 
 gredients wloich can insinuate ' themselves and slide 
 insensibly uito the nature and temper of men of the most 
 different _ constitutions, as well as of those sti-ong 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 refoi-med by it, weak men seldom. 
 
 dfrtcntfsljtjp. — Fuller. 
 
 PUECHASE not Ei-iends by gifts ; when thou ceascst 
 to give, such wiU cease to love. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. i6i 
 
 dfrtJlttf^ljtJJ. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Eaee as is true Love, true Friendship is still rarer. 
 
 ;^rtcnlf^5tj?' — 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 aU. 
 
 dfrtcntf^ljtjl. — Addison. 
 The Friendslups of the World are oft 
 Confed'racies ia vice, or leagues of pleasure. 
 
 jfrtenir^^tP' — Slair. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP ! mysterious cement of the Soul ! 
 Sweet'ner of Life, and solder of Society ! 
 T owe thee much. Thou hast deserv'd of me 
 Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. 
 Oft have I prov'd the labours of thy Love, 
 And the warm efforts of the gentle Heart 
 Anxious to please. 
 
 JFrtenlf^IjtJ). — Spenser. 
 
 NE, certes can that Friendship long endure. 
 However gay and goodly be the style. 
 That doth ill cause or eviU. end enure, 
 For Vertue is the band that bindeth Harts most sm-o. 
 
 Jfrienlf^^tJ?' — Addison. 
 G-EEAT Souls by instinct to each other turn. 
 Demand AUianee, and ia Friendship burn. 
 
 dfrtWVtf^l^tJI. — Bryden. 
 
 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. 
 
 Jfrtentf^t)tp. — Fuller. 
 
 MAKE not a Bosom Friend of a melancholy soul: 
 he'U 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. 
 
 M 
 
1 62 ILL USTRA TI0N8 OF TR UTH ; 
 
 dTrUflalttt). — Burke. 
 
 FRUG-ALITY is foiinded on the principle, that all 
 I riches have limits. 
 
 I dFrtt^altty. — Johnson. 
 
 FRTiaALITY may be tei-med the Daiighter of Prudence 
 the Sister of Temperance, and the Parent of Libertv! 
 i He that is extravagant will quickly become Poor, and 
 j Poverty will enforce dependence, and invite corruption, 
 j dTni^alitg. — Cicero. 
 
 The World has not yet learned the Riches of Frugality, 
 dFuture ^tate. — Addison. 
 
 WHY 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 bein^ the 
 messenger of iU news ? If it is a dream, let me enjoy it 
 smce it makes me both the happier and better man. ' 
 
 dFutttl-g Jjtate. — 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, 
 m the greatest geniuses and most exalted souls. 
 
 ^xxtnxt ^tate. — Coiton. 
 
 HEAYEN may have happiness as utterly unknown to 
 , us, as the gift of perfect vision would be to a man 
 
 I born bhnd. If we consider the inlets of pleasure from 
 five senses only, we may be sure that the same Being who 
 j created us, could have given us five hundred if he had 
 pleased. Mutual love, pure and exalted, founded on 
 chai-ms both mental and corporeal, as it constitutes the 
 highest happiness on earth, may, for any thing we know 
 I 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 hnk between Earth and Heaven ; for, in all cases, a 
 Chasm seems to be purposely avoided "prudente I)eo" 
 ; Thus, the Material World has its hnks, bv which it is 
 made to shake hands, as it were, with the' Vegetable,— 
 the Vegetable with the Animal,— the Annual with the 
 Intellectual, — and the Intellectual with what we may be 
 allowed to hope of the AngeUc. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 163 
 
 a jTllturC ^tatC. — Dryden. 
 
 Sttee there is none but fears a Future State ; 
 And when the most obdurate swear they do not, 
 Their ti-embhng hearts behe their boastiag tongues. 
 
 % §\\X\\XZ ^tate. — Dryden. 
 
 DIVINES 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 teU theu- manners, and relate theu- laws ? 
 
 W^Z JTuttire. — Seneca. 
 
 THE state of that Man's Mind who feels too intense an 
 interest as to Euture Events, must be most deplorable. 
 
 JutltrttjJ. — Pope. 
 
 SEE dying vegetables life sustain ; 
 See hfe dissolving, vegetate again : 
 AH forms that perish other forms supply, 
 (By tmTis we catch the vital breath and die,) 
 Like bubbles on the sea of matter borne. 
 They rise, they break, and to that sea return. 
 NotMng is foreign ; parts relate to whole j 
 One all-extending, aU-preserving soul 
 Connects each being, greatest with the least ; 
 Made beast in aid of man, and man of beast ; 
 All serv'd, all sei-ving : nothing stands alone; 
 The chaiu holds on, and where it ends unknown. 
 
 JFlttttrttg. — Shakespeare. • 
 
 OH Heaven ! that one might read the Book of Eate, 
 And see the revolution of the times 
 Make moimtains level, and the contiuent. 
 Weary of sohd firmness, melt itself 
 Into the sea. 
 
 O, if this were seen, 
 The happiest youth, — ^viewing Ms progress through, 
 What perils past, what crosses to ensue, — 
 Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 
 
 <Sam6It«5. — Lavater. 
 
 P' 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. 
 
1 64 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^mxTilixXQ. — Tom Brown. 
 GrAMiNG- finds a man a cully, and leaves him a tnare. 
 ^amSItng, — Steele. 
 
 THERE is nothing that wears out a fine face like the I 
 _ vigils of the Card-table, and those cutting passions I 
 which natm-ally 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. 
 
 (Samillmfl. — La Bruylre. I 
 
 AN assembly of the states, a coui-t of justice, shows | 
 notliing so serious and gi-ave as a Table of Gamesters i 
 playing very liigh : a melancholy soUcitude clouds their 
 looks ; envy and rancour agitate their minds wliile the 
 meeting lasts, without regard to fiiendsliip, alliances, bu-th, 
 or distinctions. 
 
 (Samt^ anlf ^pnrt^. — miUr. 
 
 TAKE heed to avoid all those Games and Sports that 
 are apt to take up much of thy time, or eno-aue thy 
 afiections. He that spends all his hfe in Sport^, is like 
 one who wears nothmg but frmges, and eats nothinff but 
 sauces. 
 
 C^e <Sag. — Cowper. 
 
 WHOM caU 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, wliile yet the beams 
 Of Day-spring overshot his humble nest. 
 
 (SaterO^ttg. — OremlU. 
 
 ONE great reason why men practise Generosity so little I 
 _ m_ the world is, then- finding so Httle there : Gene- ' 
 rosity is catching : and if so many men escape it, it is in a 
 great degree from the same reason that couutiymen escape 
 the Small-pox,— because they meet with no one to give it 
 them. 
 
 are. \ 
 PooB honest lord, brought low by his own Heart j 
 Undone by Goodness ! Strange, unusual Blood, 
 When Man's worst sin is, he does too much good ! 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 165 
 
 (SmtU^. — Anon. 
 
 IT is a lesson which Grenivis 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 he so, to be content with the thought of a Kmg- 
 dom in a higher, less transitory region. Then peradven- 
 ture may the saying be fulfilled with regard to it, that he 
 who is ready to' lose his life shaU save it. Tlie Wisdom 
 wliich aims at something nobler and more lasting than 
 tlie Kingdom of this World, may now and then find that 
 the Kingdom of this World will also fall uito its lap. 
 
 (Scnttl^. — Anon. 
 
 FEW 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 sliimng 
 fuU upon them. 
 
 (Scutum. — Swift. 
 
 WHEN" a true Grenius appears in the world, you may 
 know him by tliis sign, that the Dunces are aU in 
 confederacy against him. 
 
 <&eniu^. — Sir J. Reynolds. 
 
 GENIUS is supposed to be a power of producing | 
 excellencies which are out of the reach of the rules of 
 Art ; a power which no precepts can teach, and which no 
 industry can acqiure. 
 
 (Sgnttt^. — Seneca. 
 
 THEEE is no great Grenius free from some tincture of 
 Madness. 
 
 (SCltiuS. — Aristotle. 
 
 THEEE is no distinguished Genius altogether exempt 
 from some infusion of Madness. 
 
 (faCltlU^. — Cicero. 
 
 TO be endowed with Strength by Nature, to be actuated 
 by the powers of the Mhid, and to have a certain 
 Sphit almost Divine infused iato you. 
 
 (§enut^. — Colton. 
 
 THE greatest Genius is never so great, as when it is 
 chastised and subdued by the highest Eeason. 
 
1 66 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 (Smut^. — Anon. 
 
 SECONDARY men, men of talents, may be mixed up, 
 like an apothecary's prescription, of so many grains 
 of one quahty, and so many of another. But Genius is 
 one, individual, indivisible : like a star, it dvrells alone. 
 That which is essential in a Man of Grenius, his central 
 spuit, shows itself once, and passes away never to retizm : 
 and in few men is this more conspicuous than in MUton, 
 in whom there is nothing Homeric, and hardly anything 
 VirgUian. In sooth, one might as accurately describe the 
 elephant, as being made up of the force of the Hon and the 
 strength of the tiger. 
 
 (SattU^. — Horace. 
 
 He alone can claim this name, who writes 
 With Fancy high, and bold and daring Flights. 
 
 (§entU^. — Horace. 
 
 YOUR friend is passionate ; perhaps imfit 
 For the brisk petulance of modern wit : 
 His hair iQ cut, his robe that awkward flows, 
 Or his large shoes, to raiUery expose 
 The man 
 
 But underneath tliis rough uncouth disguise 
 A Grenius of extensive Knowledge Hes. 
 
 ©enttl^. — 8. T. Coleridge. 
 
 TALENT, lying in the Understanding, is often inhe- 
 rited ; Grenius, being the action of Reason and Imagi- 
 nation, rarely or never. 
 
 %mi\\i, — Colton. 
 
 THE drafts which true Grenius draws upon posterity, 
 although they may not always be honom-ed so soon 
 as they are due, are sure to be paid with compound 
 interest in the end. Milton's expressions on his right to 
 this remimeration, constitute some of the finest efforts of 
 his mind. 
 
 %mi\\i, — Lavater. 
 
 THE proportion of Genius to the vulgar is Kke one to a 
 million ; but Genius without Tyranny, without Pre- 
 tension, that jxidges the weak with Equity, the Superior 
 with Humanity, and equals with Justice, is Uke one to ten 
 •millions. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 167 
 
 (Qtwixii. — Crabbe. 
 
 GENIUS ! thou Gift of Heav'n ! thou Light divine ! 
 Amid what dangers art tliou doom'd to shine ! 
 Oft will the body's weakness check thy force, 
 Oft damp thy Vigoiu', and impede tliy course ; 
 And trembling nerves compel thee to restrain 
 Thy noble efforts, to contend with pain ; 
 Oi" 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. 
 
 ^tnut^. — Cicero. 
 All G-reat Men are in some degree Inspired. 
 
 (Sciitleiuait. — Coiton, 
 
 HE that can enjoy the intimacy of the Grreat, and on 
 no occasion disgust them by familiarity, or disgrace 
 himself by servdity, proves that he is as perfect a Gentle- 
 man by Nature, as his companions are by Eank. 
 
 W)t (©mtleinan. — Kare. 
 
 A CHRISTIAN is God Almighty's Gentleman ! a Gen- 
 tleman, in the vulgar, superficial way of understand- 
 ing the word, is the Devd's Cliristian. But to throw aside 
 these pohshed and too current counterfeits for something 
 valuable and sterhng, the Eeal Gentleman should be gentle 
 in everything, at least in everything that depends on him- 
 self, — iu carriage, temper, constructions, aims, desu-es. 
 He ought therefore to be mild, calm, quiet, even, tem- 
 perate, — ^not hasty in judgment, not exorbitant in am- 
 bition, not overbearmg, not proud, not rapacious, not 
 oppressive ; for these things are contrary 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. 
 
 ET)0 (Scntlratan. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 THE taste of Beauty, and the rehsh of what is decent, 
 just and amiable, perfects the character of the Gen- 
 tleman and the Pliilosopher. 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 pohte. 
 
1 6 8 ILL USTRA TI0N8 OF TR UTE; 
 
 %\)t (gentleman. — Steele. 
 
 IT is no very uncoinmon thing in the World to meet 
 with Men of Probity ; there are hkewise a great many 
 Men of Hononr to be found. Men of Courage, Men of 
 Sense, and Men of Letters, are frequent ; but a True Gen- 
 tleman is what one seldom sees. He is properly a com- 
 pound of the various good quahties that embellish Man- 
 kind. As the great poet animates all the diiferent parts 
 of learning by the force of hia genius, and n-radiates all 
 the compass of liis knowledge by the lustre and brightness 
 of his imagination ; so all the great and sohd perfections 
 of life appear in the Finished Grentleman, with a beautiful 
 gloss and varnish ; everything he says or does is accomps- 
 nied with a manner, or rather a charm, that draws the 
 admiration and goodwill of every beholder. 
 
 (©tft^, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 AND, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd 
 As made the tilings more rich : their perfume lost. 
 Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
 Eich Gifts wax poor, when Givers prove unkind. 
 
 (§tft^. — Fuller. 
 
 GIVE freely to him that deserveth well, and asleth 
 nothing ; and that is a way of giving to thyself. 
 
 (§lft^« — Seneca. 
 Theee is no grace in a Benefit that sticks to the fingers. 
 
 (Biiii. — 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. 
 
 ©ift^. — Ovid. 
 
 PRESENTS which our love for the Donor has rendered 
 precious are ever the most acceptable. 
 
 (§lft^. — Cato. 
 
 TENDEE not twice to any man the Favours you may 
 have it in yom* power to confer, and be not too 
 loquacious, while you wish to be esteemed for your kind- 
 ness. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 169 
 
 (Slory. — Byron. 
 
 THEEE 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 broken tools, that tyrants cast away 
 By myiiads, when they dare to pare then- way 
 With human hearts — to what ?— a Dream alone. 
 
 (Slorg. — Byron. 
 
 MEDALS, Eanks, Eibbonds, Lace, Embroidery, Scarlet, 
 Are things immortal to a mortal man, 
 As purple to the Babylonian harlot : 
 
 An Uniform to boys is hke a fan 
 To women ; there is scarce a crimson varlet 
 
 But deems liimself the fii-st in Glory's van. 
 But Glory's Glory : and if you would find 
 What that is — ask the pig who sees the wind ! 
 
 <§l0l*JJ. — Dryden. 
 
 The brave abroad fight for the wise at home : 
 You are but camp cameleons, fed with air ; 
 Thin Fame is all the bravest hero's share. 
 
 (§l0r}). — Byron. 
 
 THE Groan, the RoU 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 Eibbon at the breast. 
 
 <§lorg. — Cowper. 
 
 LET eternal infamy pursue 
 The wretch, to nought but his Ambition true, 
 Wlio, for the sake of filhng with one blast 
 The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste. 
 
 (StorjJ (gatSinS a Cttjj). — Byron. 
 
 ALL that the miad would slmnk from of excesses ; 
 All that the body perpetrates of bad ; 
 All that we read, hear, dream of man's distresses ; 
 
 All that the Devil woidd do if run stark mad j 
 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 smce) let loose. 
 
1 70 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB UTII; 
 
 (Slorg. — Byron. 
 
 WHAT boots the oft-repeated tale of strife, 
 The feast of vultures, and the -n-aste of life 
 The varying fortune of each separate field, 
 The fierce that vanqxiish, and the faint that yield ? 
 The smoking ruin and the crumbled wall ? 
 In this the struggle was the same with aU. 
 
 <Sl0rg. — Byron. 
 
 ONE to destroy is murder by the law. 
 And gibbets keep the hfted hand in awe : 
 To murder thoiisands takes a specious name, 
 War's Glorious art, and gives immortal Pame. 
 ®l0rg, — Porteus. 
 
 Whole kingdoms fell 
 To sate the Lust of Power : more horrid stiU, 
 The foulest stain and scandal of our nature 
 Became its boast. One murder made a villain ; 
 MUKons a Hero. 
 Numbers sanctified the crime. 
 
 <SIarg. — Byron. 
 
 ENOUaH of Battle's minions ! let them play 
 Their game of lives, and barter breath for Pame 5 
 Fame that will scarce reanimate their clay, 
 Though thousands fall to deck some single name. 
 In sooth 'twere sad to thwart their noble aim. 
 Who strike, blest hirehngs ! for their country's good, 
 And die, that Hving might have prov'd her shame. 
 
 <Sl0ry. — Cicero. 
 
 TETJE Glory takes root, and even spreads: all false 
 pretences, hke flowers, fall to the ground; nor can 
 any counterfeit last long. 
 
 Wiit (glutton. — Joanna Baillie. 
 Some men are born to feast, and not to fight ; 
 Whose sluggish Minds, e'en in fair Honour's field, 
 Still on theu" Dinner turn. 
 
 W)t (Sluttan. — Milton. 
 
 Swinish Gluttony 
 Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst liis gorgeous Feast, 
 But vsdth besotted, base ingratitude 
 Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 171 
 
 W)t (SIttttflU. — Juvenal. 
 
 Strcn, wliose sole bliss is eating, wlio can gire 
 But that one brutal reason why they live. 
 
 (§Itttt0n. — South. 
 
 HE that prolongs his Meals, and sacrifices his time, aa 
 well as his other conveniences, to his Luxury, how 
 quickly does he outset his pleasure ! And then, how is 
 all the following time bestowed upon Ceremony and Sur- 
 feit ! until at length, after a long fatigue of eating, and 
 di'uiking, 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 liimself into some use of himself, by much ado he 
 staggers to liis table agam, 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. AH that is of it, 
 dwells upon the tip of liis tongue, and within the compass 
 of his palate. A worthy prize for a man to pvirchase with 
 the loss of his time, his reason, and himself. 
 
 (Solf. — Horace. 
 
 WHO gmdes 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 fiUs the Throne. 
 
 (Soif. — Jacoli. 
 
 WHAT is there in Man so worthy of honour and 
 reverence as this, — that he is capable of contem- 
 plating something liigher than Ms own reason, more 
 subhme than the whole universe : that Spirit winch alone 
 is self-subsistent, from wliich all truth proceeds, without 
 which is no truth ? 
 
 (Solf. — Boethius. 
 
 GIVE me, O Father, to thy throne access, 
 Unshaken seat of endless happiness ! 
 Grive me, unveil' d, the Source of Grood to see! 
 Give me Thy hght, and fix mine eyes on Thee ! 
 
172 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 in^ratt'ttttf^ to (Sotr. — Seneca. 
 
 WE can be thankful to a friend for a few acres or a ! 
 little money : and yet for the freedom and cominand i 
 of the whole earth, and for the great benefits of our Being 
 our Life, Health, and Eeason, we look upon oui'selves as 
 imder no obhgation. 
 
 (Soif'^ l&tXit&mut. — JSurlce. 
 
 THOSE things that are not practicable, are not desu-able. 
 There is nothing in the world really beneficial, that 
 does not lie within the reach of an informed understanding 
 and a well-directed pursuit. There is nothing that God 
 has judged good for us, that He has not given us the 
 means to accomphsh, both in the natural and the moial [ 
 world. j 
 j^OCfemg (SaU. — Casauhon. j 
 
 IT is a common frenzy of the ignorant multitude, to be 
 always engaging Heaven on their side ; and indeed it I 
 is a successful stratagem of any general to gain authority j 
 among liis soldiers, if he can persuade them he is the man ! 
 by Fate appointed for such or such an action, though '\ 
 most impracticable. 
 
 eare. 
 
 YOTJ snatch some hence for httle faults ; that's love, 
 To have them fall no more : you some permit 
 To second ills with iEs, each elder worse ; 
 And make them dread it to the doer's tlrrift. 
 
 ^Ztin^ <Sfllf. — Schleiermacher. 
 
 LET the majestic serenity with which you estimate the 
 great and the small, prove that you refer everything 
 to the Immutable, — that you perceive the Godhead ahke 
 in everything ; let the bright cheerfalness with wliich you 
 encounter every proof of our transitory natm-e, reveal to 
 all men that you hve above time and above the world; 
 let yoiu' easy and graceful self-denial prove how many of 
 the bonds of egotism you have already broken ; and let 
 tlie ever quick and open spirit from which neither what is 
 rarest nor most ordinary escapes, show with what un- 
 wearied ardour you seek for every trace of the Godliead, 
 with what eagerness you watch for its shghtest manifesta- 
 tion. If your whole life, and every movement of yoiu* 
 outward and inward being, is thus guided by religion,, 
 perhaps the hearts of many wiU be touched by this mute 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 173 
 
 language, and will open to the receiDtion of that spirit 
 which dwells within you. 
 
 (Snltr. — Shakespeare. 
 
 FOTII.-CANKEEING- rust the hidden Treasure frets ; 
 
 But Gold, that's put to use, more Gold begets. 
 
 (Soltr. — Shahespeare. 
 O, WHAT a world of vile ill-faTour'd faults 
 Looks handsome in Three Hundred Pounds a Year. 
 
 ©OlU. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Why this 
 
 WiU lug your Priests and Servants from your sides ; 
 Pluck stout Men's pillows from below thefr heads : 
 This Yellow Slave 
 
 Will knit and break Eehgions ; bless the accurs'd ; 
 Make the hoar Leprosy ador'd ; 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 agaiu. 
 Por tliis, the foolish over-careful fathers 
 Have broke theh sleep with thoughts, then- brains with care, 
 , Their bones vnth industry. 
 
 ! (SoIU. — Shakespeare. 
 
 How quickly nature 
 Palls to revolt, when Gold becomes her object ! 
 
 (§0Kf. — Addison. 
 
 A MAN who is furnished with arguments from the 
 Mint, will conviuce 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 m an instant ; accom- 
 modates itself to the meanest capacities ; silences the loud 
 and clamorous, and brings over the most obstiaate and I 
 inflexible. Phihp of Macedon was a man of most invin- j 
 cible reason this way. He refrited by it all the wisdom of 
 Athens, confounded their statesmen, struck thefr orators 
 dumb, and at length argued them out of all then- hberties. 
 
r 74 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTE; 
 
 <©Ollf. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THERE is thy Gold ; worse Poison to men's souls, 
 Doing more mm-ders in this loathsome world, 
 Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell ; 
 I sell thee Poison, thou hast sold me none. 
 
 (Soltf, — Shakespeare. 
 
 OTHOU sweet King-killer, and dear Divorce 
 'Twixt natural son and sire ! thou bright defiler 
 Of Hymen's pui-est bed ! thou vahant Mars ! 
 Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and dehcate Wooer, 
 Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow 
 That lies on Dian's lap ! thou visible Grod, 
 That solder' st close impossibihties, 
 And mak'st them kiss ! that speak'st with every tongue, 
 To every purpose ! O thou touch of Hearts ! 
 Think, thy slave Man rebels ; and by thy virtue 
 Set them into confounding odds, that beasts 
 May have the world in empu-e ! 
 
 ©anj, -— ShaJcespeare, 
 
 GIVE liim 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 : why, nothing comes amiss, so Money comes 
 withaL 
 
 (§flnr. — Dehlcer. 
 
 HE that upon his back Eich Garments wears, 
 Is wise, though on his head grows Mida' ears : 
 Gold is the strength, the sinews of the world ; 
 The health, the soul, the beauty most divine j 
 A mask of Gold hides aU deformities ; 
 Gold is Heav'n's Physic, Life's Restorative. 
 
 iSflPj. — Johnson. 
 The lust of Gold succeeds the lust of conquests ; 
 The lust of Gold, unfeeling and remorseless, 
 The last corruption of degenerate Man. 
 
 (Soltf. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THAT Broker, that stOl breaks the pate of Faith; 
 That daily Break- vow ; he that wins of aU, 
 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 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 175 
 
 (Salif. — Massinger. 
 
 Here's musick 
 In this Bag shall wake her, though she had drunk opium, ! 
 Or eaten mandi-akes. 
 
 ******* 
 
 The Picklock 
 
 That never fails, 
 
 (§0ltr, — Shalcesjpeare. 
 
 'Tis gold 
 
 Which buys admittance (oft it doth), yea, makes 
 Diana's rangers, false themselres, yield up 
 Their deer to tli' stand o' th' stealer : and 'tis Gold 
 Wliich makes the true man kiU'd, and saves the thief; ' 
 Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true man : what 
 Can it not do, and undo ? 
 
 (§Ollf, — Horace. 
 
 STRONGER than Thunder's winged force, 
 All-powerful Gold can spread its com-se, 1 
 Through watchful guards its passage make, 
 And loves through soHd walls to break : 
 From Gold the overwhelming woes 
 That crush' d the Grecian augur rose : 
 Phihp with Gold through Cities broke, 
 And rival Monarclis felt his yoke. 
 
 (goHl. — Anon. 
 
 EPICHARMUS, mdeed, caHs the Wmds, the Water, 
 the Earth, the Sun, the Eire, and the Stars, Gods. 
 But I am of opinion, that Gold and Silver are our only 
 powerful and propitious Deities. Eor when once you have 
 hitroduced these into yom' house, wish for what you will, 
 you shah quickly obtain it; an Estate, an Habitation, 
 Servants, Plate, Friends, Judges, Witnesses. 
 
 (Saltr. — Coiton. 
 
 THERE are two Metals, one of which is omnipotent in 
 the Cabinet, and the other in the Camp,— Gold and 
 Iron. He that knows* how to apply them both, may 
 indeed attain the highest station, but he must know some- 
 thing more to keep it. 
 
 JB0tnfl (gonU. — Cicero. 
 
 IN nothing do men approach so nearly to the Gods, aa 
 in giving health to men. 
 
I 
 
 i-^G ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <S00tf fl-0m ^tWC. — Goldsmith. 
 
 FEAE. guides more to their duty tlian Q-ratitude ; for 
 one Man who is virtuous from the Love of Virtue, 
 from the obligation which he thinks he hes vuider to the 
 Griver of all, there are ten thousand who are good only 
 from their Apprehensions of Pimishment. 
 
 JBOtng (§00U. — Seneca. • 
 
 HE that does Grood to another man, does also Good to i 
 himself; not only in the consequence, but in the very i 
 act of doing it ; forthe Conscience ofwell-doingis an ample I 
 rewaj^d. j 
 J90tnC!; (§00tr. — La Bruyere. 1 
 
 HE 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 i 
 that height of Goodness, that nothing but an increase of i 
 his sufferiag can add to it : if it proves his death, his Virtue ' 
 is at its simimit ; it is Heroism complete. 
 
 l@0tns (g00U. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 NE VEE did any sovl do Good, but it became readier to 
 do the same again, with more enjoyment. Never was ! 
 Love, or Gratitude, or Bounty practised but with iucreas- \ 
 ing Joy, which made the praotiser still more in love with 
 the fair act. 
 
 (g0Oif antf JEH ^axbxm. — Anon. 
 
 WE often live under a Cloud ; and it is well for us that 
 we should do so. Uninterrupted Sunsliine would 
 parch our hearts : we want Shade and Rain to cool and 
 refresh them. Only it behoves 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. 
 
 (S00if |§um0ttr. — Greville. 
 
 GOOD Humour will sometimes conquer lU Humour, 
 but 111 Humour wiU conquer it oftener ; and for this 
 plain reason. Good Humour must operate on Generosity ; 
 III Humour on Meanness. 
 
 @00lfne^^. — Bishop Hall. 
 
 A GOOD Man is kinder to his Enemy than Bad Men 
 are to their Eriends. I 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 177 
 
 (!£]:{xnW (Sontf ^atltrc. — Terence. 
 
 WHAT shall we call it? Folly, or Good Nature? 
 rio soft, so simple, and so kind a creature 1 
 Where Charity so bliiidly plays its part, 
 It only shows the weakness of her heart. 
 (SOOtfnCS"^. — Anon. 
 nTRTJE Goodness is like the glowworm in this, that it 
 X shines most when no eyes, except those of Heaven, 
 are upon it. 
 
 (gaotf KVCtS CEbtl. — Shakespeare. 
 "Where's that palace, wliereinto 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 ? 
 
 (ScfDiJ anlf (!5t)tl. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 SOME Bad People would be less dangerous if they had 
 not some Goodness. 
 
 @00if anU C^tltl. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 NO man deserves to be praised for liis Goodness unless 
 he has strength of character to be wicked. 
 
 (©00IJ anlf e^iatl. — Lord Bacon. 
 
 THE Eabbins note a principle of nature, that putrefac- 
 tion is more dangerous before maturity than after, 
 and another noteth a position in moral philosophy, that 
 nien abandoned to Vice do not so much corrupt manners 
 as those that are half Good and half Evil. 
 
 (S00lf antf dPbtl. — 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. 
 
 (gO0tf anlf (!5&tl. — Anon. 
 
 OPEN EvU at all events does this Good : it keeps Good 
 on the alert. Where there is no likelihood of an 
 e:i3my s approaching, the garrison slumber on their post. 
 @00lj aulf €5btl. — Shakespeare. 
 There is some Soul of Goodness in things EvU, 
 Would men obsei-viagly disti? it out. 
 
178 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE ; 
 
 «©00ir aitif CEiiil. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IN" ISTature 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'er flourish' d by the Devil. 
 
 @0otr anU €5btL — Colton. 
 
 NATUEAL Good is so intimately connected with Moral 
 Good, and Natural EtH 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 
 wiU ever exist, between Vice and Misery, and Virtue and 
 Happiness. 
 
 (§0Olf m\iS CB&tL — S. T. Coleridge, 
 
 AS 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. 
 
 <§0OlJ aillf (IFbll. — Anon. 
 
 HE who has observed how throughout History, wlifle 
 Man is continually misusing Good, and turning it 
 into Evn, 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 wiU know that, whenever he is labom-ing 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 veiy fonn he has in view, the ultimate 
 result will assuredly be Good ; that were man dihgent in 
 fulfilling his part, this result would be immediate ; and 
 that no one who is thus diligent shall lose his precious 
 reward, of seeing that eveiy Good Deed is a part of the 
 life of the world. 
 
 (SOOtf anlf (!?t)il. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 Good and Bad Men are each less so than they seem, 
 
 (§0ntf anlf CP&ll. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 THE histoiy of all the World tells us, that Immoral 
 Means will ever intercept Good Ends. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 179 
 
 @0O^f au^f — Sterne. 
 
 WE are born to Trouble ; and we may depend upon it 
 whilst we live in tbis world we shall have it, though 
 with intermissions : that is, in whatever state we are, we 
 shall find a mixture oi 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 overtlu'own by 
 the other, but to bear ourselves towards everything which 
 happens with such ease and indifference of mind, as to 
 hazard as httle as may be. 
 
 @O0if a«tf (!5btl. — Sare. 
 
 IT 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. 
 
 <g0ntf anU CB&tl. — Milton. 
 
 GOOD and Evil, we know, in the field of this world 
 grow up together ahnost inseparably : and the Know- 
 ledge of Good is so involved and interwoven vdth the 
 Knowledge of Evil, and in so many cunning resemblances 
 hardly to be discerned, that those confased seeds which 
 were imposed upon Psyche as an incessant labour to cull 
 out and sort asimder, were not more intermixed. It was 
 from out the rind of one Ap]Dle tasted, that the Knowledge 
 of Good and EvU, as two Twins cleaving together, leaped 
 forth into the world. 
 
 (SOOtf antf (U&tl. — ShaTcespea/re. 
 
 THE strawberry grows underneath the nettle. 
 And wholesome berries thrive, and ripen best, 
 Neighbour' d by fruit of baser qaahty. 
 
 <S00lJ f0r (!BtJ{L — Tillotson. 
 
 A MORE glorious victory cannot be gained over another 
 man than this, that when the Injm-y began on his 
 part, the Kindness should begin on om-s. 
 
 W)t (S0^^tj), — Zimmerman. 
 
 NEWS-HUNTERS havo great Leisure, with little 
 Thought ; much petty Ambition to be thought in- 
 telligent, vsdthout any other pretension than being able to 
 communicate what they have just learnt. 
 
i8o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTR; 
 
 (@0Otf£oin. — Seneca. 
 
 THE Grooclwill of the benefactor is tbe fountain of all 
 Benefits ; nay, it is the Benefit itself ; or, at least^ 
 the stamp that makes it valuable and current. 
 
 (Sobrnttltfl. — Selden. 
 
 They that govern most make least noise. 
 
 (SflbcrnUlJI. — Steele. 
 
 IE 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, wliich receives the 
 best usage from them who never invited it. 
 
 ITyHEN Tarquin the Proud was asked what was the 
 \ V best mode of governing a conquered City, he replied 
 only by beating down with his Stalf all the tallest Poppies 
 in his Garden. 
 
 (3a0&trnment. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 <§Ob^rnm0Ut. — Sara. 
 
 A STATESMAN, we are told, should foUow Public 
 XL Opinion. Doubtless ... as a coachman foUows his 
 horses ; liaving firm hold on the Eeins, and guiding them. 
 
 ^Bbcrnm^ltt (JBOmj^ttc). — Montaigne. 
 rPHEEB is httle less trouble in forming a private 
 _-L Family than a whole Kingdom ; wherever the mind 
 is perplexed, it is an entire disorder, and domestic Em- 
 ployments are not less troublesome for being less important. 
 
 ©a&arnmnit. — Cowper. 
 
 SOME seek Diversion in the tented field, 
 And make the sorrows of mankind their Sport. 
 But War's a Game, wliich, were their subjects wise, 
 Kings should not play at. Nations would do well 
 T' extort their truncheons fi-om the pimy hands 
 Of Heroes, whose infii-m and baby minds 
 Are gratified with miscliief, and who spoil, 
 Because men suffer it, their toy the World. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 181 
 
 0 
 
 ®fl&t:rnmcnt. — Colton. 
 
 TJR Constitution is tlie proudest political Monument 
 of the combined 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 experience 
 has shown that this proud Monument of human Wisdom 
 wants that which its earlier designers had conceived that 
 it possessed; a self-preserving power. Those therefore 
 are its truest friends who are most vigilant and unremitting 
 m their eiforts to keep it from Corruption, and to guard 
 it from Decay ; whose veneration, 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 upon wliat it is. 
 
 ©Ob^rumcnt. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 With common men 
 There needs too oft the Show of War to keep 
 The Substance of sweet Peace : and for a King, 
 'Tis sometunes better to be fear'd than loved. 
 
 (SobCrnmcnt. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THE Providence, that's in a watchful State, 
 KnoAvs almost every gram of Pluto's Gold; 
 Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive Deep ; 
 Keeps place with thought ; and almost like the Gods, 
 Does ev'n our thoughts unveil in their dimib cradles ; 
 There is a Mystery (with which relation 
 Durst never meddle) in the Soul of State ; 
 Wliich hath an operation more divine. 
 Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to. 
 
 CSflbcnxmcitt. — Pope. 
 
 A KING may be a Tool, a thing of straw ; but if he 
 serves to frighten our enemies, and secure our pro- 
 perty, it is well enough : a Scarecrow is a tiling of straw, 
 but it protects the Corn. 
 
 (gobratm^ut. — Colton. 
 
 IIS" aU Governments, there must of necessity be both the 
 Law and the Sword : Laws without Arms woold give 
 us not Liberty, but Licentiousness ; and Arms without 
 Laws would produce not Subjection, but Slavery, 
 
1 82 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE ; 
 
 ^a'atXVmZnU — Anon. 
 
 THE true Eeformer is he who creates new Institutions 
 and gives them hfe and energy, and trusts to them 
 for throwing off such evil humom-s as may be lying in the 
 Body Politic. The true Reformer is the seminal Eeformer 
 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 
 aheady existing. 
 
 (Bahtvnmmt. — Seneca. 
 He who too much fears Hatred, is unfit to reign. 
 <g0&crnment. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE stin and mental Parts, 
 That do contrive how many hands shall strike, 
 When Eitness caU them on, and know by measure 
 Of their observant toil, the enemies' weight ; 
 "Why, this hath not a finger's dignity : 
 They call tliis bed-work Mapp'ry, closet War j 
 So that the Eam, that batters down the wall, 
 Eor the great swing and rudeness of his poise. 
 They place before his Hand that made the Engine : 
 Or those that with the Eineness of their Souls 
 Ey reason guide Ms Execution. 
 
 i&ahtvnmmt. — Anon. 
 
 IT is a dangerous thing to try new Experiments in a 
 Q-overnment : Men do not foresee the iU consequences 
 that must happen, when they go about to alter the 
 essential parts of it upon which the whole Erame depends : 
 for aU Governments are artificial things, and every part 
 of them has a dependence one upon another, 
 
 ffitlbcrnmntt. — Cornelius Nepos. 
 
 THE Power is detested, and miserable is the life, of 
 him who wishes rather to be feared than to be loved. 
 
 ©06nrnmtnt, — Shakespeare. 
 
 IT is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe : 
 Eor Peace itself should not so dull a Zingdom, 
 (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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. i»3 
 
 ©Obnrnmait. — Shakespeare. 
 If we cannot defend o\jr own door from the Dog ; 
 Let us be worried ; and our nation lose 
 The name of Hardiness and Pohcy. 
 
 <Kobcrnm«nt. — Colton. 
 
 JT is an easy work to govern wise men, but to govern 
 Fools or madmen, a continual Slavery. It is from the 
 bhnd 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 G-overmnents, and thinned the 
 greatest Nations. As a people well instructed will cer- 
 tainly esteem the blessings they enjoy, and study public 
 Peace for their own sake, there is a great merit in in- 
 structing the people, and cultivating their understandings. 
 They are certainly less credulous in proportion as they 
 are more knowing, and consequently 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 un- 
 derstanding is well principled and informed, the passions 
 will be tame, and the heart well disposed. They, therefore, 
 who communicate true Knowledge to their species, are 
 true Friends to the World, Benefactors to Society, and 
 deserve aU encouragement from those who preside over 
 Society, vrith the applause and good wishes of aU good 
 and honest men. 
 
 ^Dbcrnmtnt. — Montesquieu. 
 
 CHANCE, or as it is here termed. Fortune, does not 
 govern the world. The truth of this position might 
 be refeiTed to the Romans, who enjoyed a continued 
 course of Prosperity while then- Government was_ con- 
 ducted on a certain plan, and an \minterrupted series of 
 Eeverses when they adopted a different one. There 
 always exist certain general causes, either moral or phy- 
 sical, 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. 
 
 fficObcrnmeitt. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 THE display of Clemency by Princes is, not unfrequently, 
 a pohtical Manoeuvre to gain the affections of the 
 People. 
 
184 
 
 ILL U8TBA TI0N8 OF TB UTR ; 
 
 ffiabarnmwit. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IT is a purposed thing, and grows by plot 
 To curb the WiU of the Nobility : 
 Suffer it, and hve with such as cannot rule, 
 Nor erer wiU be ruled. 
 
 ffinbmim^nt. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 A 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, 
 
 ffiCficritmEltt. — Hare. 
 
 IN times of pubhc Dissatisfaction add readily, to gratify 
 men's wishes.. So the change be made without"trepi- 
 dation, _ there is no contingent danger in the chaiiiriiiff. 
 But it is diiEcult to diminish safely, except in tunes of 
 perfect quiet. The first is giving ; the last is givmg up. 
 
 ffiabn-rantnt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 NOW call we our high court of Parhament : 
 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. 
 
 Gntiarnmeitt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Thfs we debase 
 The nature of oxvc Seats, and mate the rabble 
 CaU om- Cares, fears : wliich wiU in time bveak ops 
 The locks o' the Senate, and bring in the Crows 
 To peck the Eagles. 
 
 i&ahexvmmt. — Bm-ice. 
 
 REFINED Pohcy ever has been the parent of Con- 
 fusion ; and ever will be so, as long as the world 
 endures. Plam Good Intention, which is as easily dis- 
 covered at the first view, as Fraud is surely detected at 
 last, is of no mean force in the Government of Mankind. 
 Genmne simpKcity of heart is an heahng and cementing 
 Principle. 
 
 C&06^l-nmjnt. — Byron. 
 
 A THOUSAND years scarce serve to foi-m a State ; 
 An kour may lay it in the dust : and when 
 Can Man its shatter'd splendour renovate, 
 Eecal its vu-tues back, and vanquish Time and Fate? 
 
OB, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 185 
 
 @Oi)CrnmcUt. — Rousseau. 
 
 THE science of Groveming is merely a science of com- 
 binations, of applications, and of exceptions, according 
 to time, place, and cii'cumstances. 
 
 (gflfacritmcnt. — Cicero. 
 
 IT is necessary for a Senator to be tliorougbly acquainted 
 •with the Constitution : and this is a knowledge of the 
 most extensive natui'c ; a matter of science, of dihgence, 
 of reflection, without which no Senator can possibly be fit 
 for liis ofiice. 
 
 <S0t)CrnmCUt. — Tacitus. 
 
 THE repose of Nations cannot be secitre without 7\a'ms, 
 Armies cannot be maintained without Pay, nor can 
 the Pay be produced except by Taxes. 
 
 ©nbcritmciit. — Be Moy. 
 
 GOOD is never more effectually perfoi-med than when 
 it is produced by slow degrees. 
 
 (So&crnment. — Tom Brown. 
 
 THOUGH a soldier, in time of peace, is hke a Cliimney 
 in Summer, yet what wise man would pluck down his 
 Chimney because his ahnanack tells him 'tis the middle of 
 June? 
 
 <S06crnment. — AnUgonus. 
 
 HE who forms the mind of a Prince, and implants in 
 him good Principles, may see the Precepts he had 
 inculcated extend thi-ough a large portion of his Subjects. 
 
 (SobrnTment. — Goldsmith. 
 
 POLITICS resemble Eeligion : 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 Government to impress all ranks 
 with a sense of svibordination, whether this be effected by 
 a diamond or a vutuous edict, a siimptuary law or a glass 
 necklace. 
 
 (So6nntm«lt. — 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 Euei prepared, it is hard to tell whence the Spark 
 shall come that shall set it on fire. 
 
1 86 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <Ba'OZtX\mn\i. — Seneca. 
 
 POWER exercised with Yiolence has seldom been of 
 long duration, but Temper and Moderation generally 
 produce permanence in all things. 
 
 (gnbCrnmCXXt. — Rousseau. 
 
 A CONTRACT made -with its subjects by any G-ovem- 
 ment, is so far dissolved by the exercise of Despotism, 
 that the Despot is only able to enforce it while he con- 
 tinues 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. 
 
 60t)ernm3 ^vCamtiiti. — Fuller. 
 
 WHEN a EaYOurile grows insolent it is wisdom to 
 raise another into favour, who may give check to the 
 other's Presumption. 
 
 ittnflla iSXKtti. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 KiNa-becoming Grraces 
 Are Justice, Verity, Temperance, Stableness, 
 Bounty, Perseverance, Mercy, Lowliness, 
 Devotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude. 
 
 ffirratttuil0. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 "TT7HAT causes such a miscalculation in the amount of 
 Vf Grratitude 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 to the value of the Benefit. 
 
 CSratttulf?. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 ALMOST every one takes a Pleasure in requiting trifling 
 Obhgations ; many people are grateful for moderate 
 ones : but there is scarcely any one who does not show 
 Ingratitude for great ones. 
 
 CKtatttutf^. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 WHILE we retain the power of rendering Service, and 
 conferring Favours, we seldom experience Ingrati- 
 tude. 
 
 ©ratttutfC. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THERE is a certain hvely 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 187 
 
 ffiratlttttfC. — Charron. 
 
 HE who receives a Good Turn should never forget it : 
 he who does one, should never remember it. 
 
 ffiratituUe. — JPope. 
 
 WHEEEVER 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. 
 
 CSratttutfC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TCAN no other answer make, but, Thanks, 
 And Thanks, and ever Thanks : Often Good Turns 
 Are shuiSed off with such imcurrent pay ; 
 But, were my worth, as in my conscience, firm, 
 You should find better dealing. 
 
 ffiratttuife. — Queen Christina. 
 
 IT is a species of agreeable servitude, to be under an 
 Obhgation to those we esteem. 
 
 CSratltuifC. — Congreve. 
 
 0 CAiL not to my mind what you have done ! 
 
 It sets a Debt of that account before me. 
 
 Which shows me poor and bankrupt ev'n in hopes ! 
 
 C^^C ©rabe. — JSLair. 
 
 HERE are the Prude severe, and gay Coquette, _ 
 The sober Widow, and the young green Virgin, 
 Cropp'd hke 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 slu-ill-tongued Slu-ew, 
 Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her cliiding. 
 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 Pool, the Churl, the Scoundrel, and the Mean. 
 
 Elje ffirabc. — Blair. 
 
 HERE, all the mighty Troublers of the Earth, 
 Who swam to sov'reign rule through seas of blood ; 
 The oppressive, stm-dy, man- destroying Villains, 
 Who ravag'd kingdoms, and laid empires waste, 
 
1 88 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 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 fi'om the general scom 
 
 That haunts and dogs them like an injur' d ghost 
 
 Implacable. 
 
 ffira&tty. — La RochefoucanU. 
 
 GEAYITY is a mystery of the Body, invented to coucea] 
 the defects of the Mind. 
 
 fflrfabltM. — Saville. 
 
 THE EE is a false Gravity that is a very ill symptom ; 
 and it may be said, that as rivers, which rim very 
 slowly, have always the most Mud at the bottom : so a 
 sohd Stiffness in the constant course of a man's hfe, is a 
 sign of a thick bed of Mud at the bottom of his BraLi. 
 
 ffiratJttl). — Younff. 
 
 WHAT'S the bent brow, or neck m Thoiight recHn'd? 
 The body's "Wisdom to conceal the mind. 
 A man of sense can Artifice disdain ; 
 As men of wealth may venture to go plain j 
 And be this Truth eternal ne'er forgot, — 
 Solemnity's a cover for a sot. 
 
 ffil'abttn. — Sterne. 
 
 TOEICK sometimes in his wild way of talking would 
 say, that Gravity was an arrant Scotmdrel, 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 by 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, vdth aU. 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;" wliich definition 
 of Gravity Yorick, with great imprudence, would say 
 deserved to be wrote; in letters of gold. 
 
OB, THINGS NJEJW AND OLD. 189 
 
 ffirabttjj. — Flint/. 
 
 AS in a man's life, so in liis studies, I tliink it is tlie 
 most beautiful 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, 
 
 ffira&ltg. — Lord Shaftesbury. 
 
 GRAVITY is of the very essence of Impostm^e ; it does 
 not only make us mistake other things, but is apt 
 perpetually almost to mistake itself. 
 
 (Srabltin — Lavater. 
 Too much Grravity argues a shallow mind. 
 
 ^XtKt jHm. — Anon. 
 1t|rOUNTAINS never shake hands. Their roots may 
 iVJ 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 moimtains 
 mostly run in chains and clusters, crossing the plain at 
 wider or narrower intervals, 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 desu-es 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 con- 
 sort, 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 sohtaiy Eminence, they cannot bear that their neigh- 
 boui's should do the same, but complain that they impede 
 the View, and often try to overthrow them, especially if 
 they are higher. 
 
 (great JHen. — Colton. 
 
 I THINK it is Warburton who draws a very just dis- 
 tinction between a man of true Greatness and a 
 Mediocrist. "If," says he, "you want to recommend 
 youi'self to the former, take care that he quits your 
 Society with a good opinion of you ; if your object is to 
 please the latter, take caxe that he leaves you with a good 
 opinion of himself." 
 
190 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 (Sr?at JHflt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 TO be a Great Man one must know bow to profit by 
 tbe whole of one's Fortune. 
 
 ffircat i^en. — Coiton. 
 
 GREAT*Men often obtain their ends by means beyond 
 tbe Grasp of vulgar intellect, and even by Methods 
 diametrically opposite to those wliich the multitude would 
 pvrrsue. But, to effect this, bespeaks as profound a know- 
 ledge of Mind, as that philosopher eyniced of Matter, who 
 first produced ice by the agency of heat. 
 
 <&XtKi Mtn. — CoUon. 
 
 IN Hfe, we shall find many men that are great, and some 
 men that are good, but very few Men that are both 
 great and good. 
 
 ^XtvA Mtn. — CoUon. 
 
 THE reason why G-reat Men meet with so little pity or 
 attachment in Adversity, would seem to be this. The 
 Friends of a Great Man were made by his Fortunes, his 
 Enemies by himself, and Eevenge is a much more punctual 
 paymaster than Gratitude. 
 
 <Sr0at M-tn. — CoUon. 
 
 SUBTRACT fi-om a Great Man all that he owes to 
 Opportunity, and all that he owes to Chance, aU that 
 he has gained by the wisdom of his friends, and by the 
 folly of his enemies, and our Brobdignag will often become 
 a Lillipiitian. I think it is Voltaire who observes, that it 
 was very fortunate for Cromwell, that he appeared upon 
 the stage at the precise moment when the people were 
 tired of Kings ; and as unfortunate for his son Eichard, 
 that he had to make good his pretensions at a moment 
 when the people were equally tired of Protectors. 
 
 ^XtKimii. — Seneca. 
 
 AGEEAT, a Good, and a Eight 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 fi'om Heaven, and 
 to Heaven it must return ; and it is a kind of heavenly 
 fehcity, which a pure and virtuous Mind enjoys, in some 
 degree, even upon earth. 
 
 ffircattlE^S. — From the Latin. 
 Never less alone than when alone. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 191 
 
 eSreatUt^^. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 THE mightier man, the mightier is the thing 
 That makes him honotir'd, or begets him Hate : 
 For greatest Scandal waits on greatest state. 
 The Moon being clouded presently is miss'd, 
 But httle Stars may hide them when they hst. 
 The crow may clothe his coal-black wings in mii-e, 
 And unperceived fly with the filth away ; 
 But if the hke the snow-white swan desire, 
 The stain upon his silver down will stay. 
 Poor grooms are sightless night, Kings glorious day. 
 Gnats are unnoted wlieresoe'er they fly, 
 But eagles gazed upon with every eye. 
 
 <&XtKX\Xt^i, — Shakespeare. 
 They that stand liigh, have many Blasts to shake them ; 
 And if they fall they dash themselves to pieces. 
 
 ^ttKinti^. — La Bruyere. 
 
 GEEATNESS and Discernment are two diflerent things, 
 and a love of Virtue and of Yirtuous Men is a thh-d 
 tiling. 
 
 <!5iXtKh\tii. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 HOWEVER brilliant an Action may be, it ought not 
 to pass for great when it is not the result of a great 
 Design. 
 
 ^xtzimii. — CoUon. 
 
 THE Wealthy and the Noble, when they expend large 
 sums in decorating their houses with the rare and 
 costly efi'orts of Genius, with busts from the chisel of a 
 Canova, and with cartoons from the penci^ 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 
 tiling else that is great. 
 
 ®rcattl0^^. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 GREAT Souls are not those wliich have less Passion 
 and more Virtue than common souls, but those only 
 wliich have greater Designs. 
 
 CKr^atltC^^. — From the Latin. 
 
 THAT which is great and splendid is not always laudable, 
 but whatever is laudable must be great. 
 
192 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ffireatitc^^. — Colton. 
 
 THE traly Great consider first, how they may gain tli8 
 approbation of Grod ; and secondly, that of their own 
 Conscience ; having done this, they vrould then willingly 
 conciliate the good Opinion of their feUow-men. 
 
 (&Xtn,tl\tii, — Colton. 
 
 A GREAT Mind may change its objects, but it cannot 
 relinquish them ; it must have something to pm-sue ; 
 Variety is its relaxation, and Amusement its repose. 
 
 <&XtKimi^. — Sir PJiilip Sidney. 
 
 THE Hero passes through the multitude as a man tliat 
 neither disdains a People, nor yet is any tiling tickled 
 with their Yanity. 
 
 6freahW^^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 0 PLACE and Greatness, mUhons of false eyes 
 Are stuck upon thee ! volumes of report 
 Eun 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. 
 
 eare. 
 
 GREAT 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. 
 
 (&XmiViti^. — Shakespeare. 
 These signs have mark'd me extraordinarv j 
 And aU. the Com'ses of my Life do show 
 I am not in the roll of common men. 
 
 ffirtatttC^S^. — La Bruyere. 
 
 A GREAT Mind is above doing an unjust act, above 
 giving way to Grief, above descending to Buffoonery; 
 and it would be invulnerable, if Compassion did not prey 
 upon its sensibihty. 
 
 (&XZKtvltii. — STiaTcesp eare. 
 
 WHY, 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. 
 
OE, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 193 
 
 (SWittnC^^. — Anon. 
 
 THE greatest Truths are tlie simplest : so are the greatest 
 Men. 
 
 <&Xt^imi^, — Shakespeare. 
 
 I HAVE touch' d the highest point of all my Greatness ; 
 And fi'om that full Meridian of ray glory, 
 I haste now to my setting : I shall fall 
 Like a bright exhalation in the Evening, 
 And no man see me more. 
 
 ©rcatnC^^. — Sir FUUp Sidney. 
 
 THE Grreat, in affliction, bear a coimtenance more 
 Princely than they are wont : for it is the temper of 
 the highest Hearts, hke the Palm-tree, to strive most 
 upwards when it is most bixrdened. 
 
 (&XtKi\Xti^, — Cicero. 
 
 THERE never was a Great Man, unless through Divine 
 Inspu-ation. 
 
 (&ttvA\\t^i. — Ball. 
 
 EARTHLY Greatness is a nice tiling, and requires so 
 much chariness in the managing, as the Contentment 
 of it cannot requite. 
 
 aSfXZKtm^^, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Rightly to be great, 
 Is, not to stir without great Argument ; 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw. 
 When Honour's at the stake, 
 ©rtatnc^^. — Young. 
 
 IF we did but know how httle some enjoy of the great 
 things that they possess, there woiild not be much 
 Envy in the world. 
 
 (&XtKtat^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O Place ! O Eorm ! 
 How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
 Wrench awe fi'om Eools, and tie the wiser souls 
 To thy false seeming. 
 
 aSatKiWt^i. — Lavater. 
 
 HE 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." 
 
X94 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE ; 
 
 (QxtKtXXt^^. — Shakespeare. 
 O, BE sick, great Greatness, 
 And bid thy Ceremony give thee cure ! 
 Think' st thou, the fieiy feyer -will go out 
 With titles blown from Adulation ? 
 Will it give place to flexure and low bending ? 
 Cans't thou, when thou command' st the Beggar's knee 
 Command the Health of it ? ' 
 
 (&XtKinti&, — ShaTcespeare. j 
 
 OHAED condition ! and twin-bom with Greatness 
 
 Subjected to the breath of ev'ry fool. ^' I 
 
 Wliose Sense no more can feel but his own wfinginfr i | ■ 
 Wliat infinite heart's ease must Zings neglect, ° 
 
 That private men enjoy ! and what have Zings ' 
 
 That privates have not too, save Ceremony ? | 
 
 (&XtKi\Xtii, — ShaTcespeare. \ 
 I O, IT is excellent 
 
 To have a Giant's strength ; but it is tyi-annous 
 To use it hke a Giant. 
 
 fBxtKtntii. — Home. 
 
 The truly Generous is the truly wise ; | 
 And he who loves not others, lives unblest. 
 
 (&ttKtX\Zii. — Thomson. 
 
 The Generous pride of Virtue 
 Disdains to weigh too nicely the returns 
 Her bounty meets with. Like the liberal G ods, 
 From her own gracious nature she bestows, 
 Nor stoops to ask reward. j 
 
 ^XtKtnti^. — La ItochefoucauU. | 
 
 THEEE is a kind of Elevation which does not depend ! 
 on fortune. It is a certain air which distinguishes | 
 us, and seems to destine us for great things ; it is a Price i 
 wliich we imperceptibly set on ourselves. By tliis quality 
 we usurp the Deference of other men ; and it puts us, in 
 general, more above them than Birth, Dignity, or even 
 Merit itself. ^ ^ 
 
 ffimtlte^^. — 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 Eequital out of season, than be wanting in it. i 
 
OB, IJEINGS NEW AND OLD. 195 
 
 ©rcatnc^^. — Byron. 
 
 Uneqtjax fortune 
 Made Mm my debtor for soine courtesies, 
 Which bind the good more firmly. 
 
 (BxZKXxuii, — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 BE great in act, as you hare been in thought ; 
 Be stirring as the time ; be Fire with fire 5 
 Threaten the Tlrreat'ner, and outface the brow 
 Of bragging Horror : so shall inferior eyes, 
 Tliat borrow their behaviours from the great, 
 Grow great by your Example, and put on 
 The dauntless spu-it of Eesolution. 
 
 (BxtKilXt^i, — Thomson. 
 
 BUT to the generous stiU improving Mind, 
 That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy, 
 Diffusing kiad Beneficence around, 
 Boastless, as now descends the silent dew ; 
 To liim the long review of order' d life 
 Is inward rapture, only to be felt. 
 
 ©rcatlTC^^. — STiaJcespeare. 
 
 I LOTE the People, 
 But do not like to stage me to their eyes : 
 Though it do well, I do not rehsh well 
 Then- loud Applause, and aves vehement : 
 Nor do I think the man of safe Discretion, 
 That does afi'ect it. 
 
 ©rcatltf^S, — SJiahespewre. 
 Some are bom Great, some achieve greatness. 
 And some have Grreatness thrust upon them. 
 
 (&XZKXmSi. — Fope. 
 
 I IT 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 vdthout a Judge : 
 Truths would you teach, or save a sinking Land ? 
 AU feai", none aid you, and few understand. 
 Painful Pre-eminence ! yourself to view 
 Above hfe's weakness, and its comforts too. 
 
196 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTJI; 
 
 (BxtKtnt^i, — Shalcespeare. 
 Let me not live, 
 After my Mame lacks oil, to be the snuff < 
 Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses ; 
 All but new things disdain ; whose Judgments are | 
 Mere fathers of theu- garments ; whose constancies ' 
 Expire before their Fashions. 
 
 (BxtViXW^^. — Shakespeare. \ 
 
 ? rpiS certain, Grreatness, once fallen out with Fortune, j 
 
 JL Must fall out with men too : what the dechn'd is, ' 
 He shall as soon read in the eyes of others. 
 
 As feel in liis own fall ; for men, like Butterflies, ^ 
 
 Show not their mealy wings but to the Summer. | 
 
 (&XtKi\n^^, — Young. 
 'Tis great, 'tis manly, to disdain disguise ; 
 It shows our Spirit, or it proves om- Strength. 
 
 ffirCatriC^S. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I HATE Tentui'ed, 
 Like httle 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. 
 Yain 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 eartMy dignities, 
 A still and quiet Conscience. 
 
 ®reatnes"^. — Rowe. 
 
 Geeat Minds, hke Heaven, are pleased in doing Good, 
 
 Though the imgrateful subjects of their favours 
 
 Are barren in return. i 
 
 <&XtaXmii, — Thomson. 
 
 'Tis hardship, toil ; 
 'Tis sleepless nights, and never-resting days ; 
 'Tis pain, 'tis danger, 'tis affronted Death ; i 
 'Tis equal fate for aU, and changing Fortune, 
 That rear the mind to Glory, that inspire 
 The noblest Virtues, and the gentlest Manners. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 197 
 
 ^XtSiXitii. — Young. 
 HiaH Stations tumult, but not bliss, create ; 
 None think the Great unhappy, but the Great. 
 
 (SreatUf^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HIS natm-e 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 Ids Tongue must vent. 
 
 ©r^atltt^^. — Byron. 
 
 From my youth upwards 
 My Spirit walk'd not with the Souls of men. 
 Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes ; 
 The tliirst 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. 
 
 ®r0atnC^^. — Thomson. 
 
 Real Gloiy 
 Springs from the sUent conquest of ourselves ; 
 And without that the Conqueror is nought 
 But the first Slave. 
 
 ©rJatU£^^. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 HE died that Death which best becomes a man. 
 Who is with keenest sense of conscious iU 
 And deep Eemorse assail' d, a wounded Spirit. 
 A death that kills the Noble and the Brave, 
 And only them. He hath no other wound. 
 
 (Btiti. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THE violence of either Grief or Joy 
 Their own enactures with themselves destroy : 
 Wliere Joy most revels. Grief doth most lament ; 
 Grief joys, Joy grieves, on slender accident. 
 
 ffirt^f. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 G-EiEF softens the Mind, 
 And mates it fearful and degenerate. 
 
 &Xitt, — Metastasio. 
 
 IF the internal Griefs of every man could be read, written 
 on his forehead, how many who now excite Envy, would 
 appear to be the objects of Pity? 
 
1 9 8 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TB UTH; 
 
 \ ©rtef. — Qreville. 
 
 WHAT an argumeiit in favour of social connection is 
 the observation that by commtinicating our Grrief 
 we liave less, and by communicating our Pleasure we hare 
 I more. 
 
 ©rtef. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 govem'd by the watery moon. 
 May send forth plenteous Tears to drown the world ! 
 
 ©rtcf. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Weep I cannot, 
 
 I But my Heart bleeds. 
 
 1 (&Xiti, — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 I'lL do whate'er thou wilt, I will be silent ; 
 
 But O ! a reined Tongue, and bursting Heart, 
 ! Are hard at once to bear. 
 
 ©rtef. — SJidkesfeare, 
 
 OH, what a noble Combat hast thou fought, 
 Between compulsion and a brave respect! 
 Let me wipe oif tliis honom-able Dew, 
 I That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. 
 
 \ My Heart hath melted at a lady's tears. 
 
 Being an ordinary inundation : 
 I But this effusion of such manly drops, 
 
 I This show'r, blown up by Tempest of the Soul, 
 
 I Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'ci, 
 
 [ Than had I seen the vanity top of Heaven 
 
 rigur'd 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 enr'ag'd ; 
 Nor met with Fortune, other than at feasts, 
 Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. 
 
 ©ri^f. — Shakespeare. 
 Oh ! Grief hath ehang'd me, since you saw me last ; 
 And careful hours with Time's deformed hand 
 Have m-itten strange defeatiu-es in my Face. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 199 
 
 CSrtCf. — JDri/den. 
 
 MINE is a Q-rief of fm-y, 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 mto Tears. 
 
 CStlCf. — Thomson. 
 Sweet Source of every virtue, 
 1 0 Sacred Sorrow ! he who knows not thee. 
 Knows not the best emotions of the Heart, 
 Those tender Tears that humanise the Soul, 
 The Sigh that charms, the Pang that gives delight. 
 
 ®rtjf. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 I FELT a sudden tightness grasp my throat 
 As it would strangle me ; such as I felt, 
 I knew it well, some twenty years ago. 
 When my good Father shed his Blessing on me : 
 j I hate to weep, and so I came away, 
 j <&)X\Zi. — STiaTcespeare. 
 
 OHOW her eyes and tears did lend and borrow ! 
 Her eyes seen in the Tears, tears m her eye ; 
 1 Both crystals, where they view'd each other's Sorrow ; 
 I Sorrow, that friendly Sighs sought stUl to dry ; 
 j But hke a stormy day, now wind now rain, 
 ' Sighs di-y her cheeks, Tears make them wet again. 
 
 ! ©I'icf. — SliaTiespeare. 
 
 ; She shook 
 
 ' Tlie lioly water from her heavenly eyes, 
 I And clamour moistened : then away she started 
 
 To deal with Grrief alone. 
 ' (&X\ti, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 WHEN the Sun sets, the air doth drizzle Dew. 
 What, stia m tears ? 
 Evermore showering ? In one httle body 
 - Thou counterfeit' st a Bark, a Sea, a Wind : 
 ' For 8tni thine eves, 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 Calin, will overset 
 I Thy tempest- toss' d body. 
 
200 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 (Sritf. — ShaTcespeare. 
 Why tell you me of moderation ? 
 The Grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, 
 And yiolenteth in a sense as strong 
 As that which causeth it : How can I moderate it ? 
 If I could temporise with my Affection, 
 Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 
 The like allayment could I give my Grief; 
 My Love admits no quahfying dross : 
 No more my Grief, in such a precious loss. 
 
 ©rtcf. — Byron. 
 
 YET disappointed joys are "Woes as deep 
 As any man's clay mixture undergoes. 
 Our least of Soitows are sucli as we weep ; 
 'Tis the vile daily di'op on drop that wears 
 The Soul out (hke the stone) with petty Cares. 
 
 (§rtrf. — Byron. 
 
 UPON her face there was the tint of Grief, 
 The settled Shadow of an inward Strife, 
 And an unqxxiet drooping of the Eye, 
 As if its lid were charged with imshed tears. 
 
 ®rtrf. — ShaJcespeare. 
 I AM not prone to Weeping, as our sex 
 Commonly are ; the want of which vain dew, 
 Perchance, shall dry ovcc Pities ; but I have 
 That houom^able Grief lodged here, wliich bums 
 Worse than Tears drown. 
 
 ®rt0f. — Spenser. 
 
 LONG 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 seemed more grievous than it was before. 
 
 ffirtcf. — Spenser, 
 
 THUS is my Summer worn away and wasted, 
 Thus is my Harvest hasten' d aU to rathe ; 
 The ear that budded fair is burnt and blasted, 
 And all my hoped gain is tum'd to scathe. 
 Of all the seed that in my youth was sown. 
 Was none but Brakes and Brambles to be mown. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 201 
 
 <&Xizl. — Young. 
 Who fails to gi-ieve, when just occasion calls, 
 Or gi'ieves too much, deserves not to be blest ; 
 Inhuman, or effeminate, his Heart. 
 
 ®l"tgf, — Shakespeare. 
 
 GRIEF fiUs the room up of my absent Child ; 
 Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; 
 Puts on Ms pretty looks, repeats liis words, 
 Eemembers me of all his gracious Parts ; 
 Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form : 
 Then have I reason to be fond of Grief. 
 
 (Btitt. — Spenser. 
 
 WHICH when she heard, as in despightfull wise 
 She wilfully her Sorrow did augment. 
 And offered 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 Hart with Sorrow had transfixed beene. 
 
 drrtef. — SJialcespeare. 
 
 EVEEY one can master a Grrief, but he that has it. 
 
 <Bxiti, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Honest plain words best pierce the ear of Grief. 
 
 (Sl'tef , — Spenser. 
 
 WHICH whenas Scudamour 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. 
 
 ®ri£f. — Byron. 
 
 THROUGH many a chme '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 HeU that's there. 
 
: ..77-1 
 
 202 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 (ScXitf. — Spenser. 
 
 WHAT equall torment to tlie Q-riefe of Mind, 
 And pyning Anguisli liid in gentle hart, 
 That inly feeds itselfe with thoughts unkind, 
 And nourisheth her owne consuming Smart ? 
 What medicine can any leaches art 
 Teeld such a sore, that doth her G-rievance hide. 
 And win to none her Maladie impart ? 
 
 ffirirf. — Shakespeare. 
 I PEAT thee, cease thy counsel. 
 Which falls into mine ears as profitless 
 As water in a sieve : give not me cotmsel ; 
 I Nor let no comforter dehght mine ear, 
 j But such a one, whose wrongs do suit with mine. 
 1 1 Bring me a Father, that so lored his Child, 
 j I Whose joy of her is OTcrwhelm'd like mine, 
 I ! And bid him speak of Patience ; 
 j ! Measure his woe the length and breadth of min:^, 
 i • And let it answer every strain for strain ; 
 j ' 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 G-rief 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, 
 
 (Svtcf. — Shakespeare. 
 Ah, my tender Babes ! 
 I My imblovra flowers, new appearing sweets ! 
 
 i If yet your gentle Souls fly in the air — 
 
 ! Hover about me with your airy wings, 
 
 And hear your mother's Lamentation. 
 
 (SflCf. — Spenser. 
 
 WITH that adowne, out of her christall eyne, 
 Few trickKng Teares she softly forth let fall, 
 That like two orient perles did purely sliyne 
 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. 
 
 ). 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLB. 203 
 
 ©ritf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE shadow of my Sorrow ? Ha! let's see: — 
 'Tis yery true, my Grrief lies all within ; 
 And these external manners of Lament 
 Are merely shadows to the unseen Grrief, 
 That swells with silence in the tortur'd Soul ; 
 There lies the Substance. 
 
 <&xitl, — Dryden. 
 
 ALAS ! I haye not words to tell my Gl-rief ; 
 To Tent my Sorrow would be some rehef ; 
 Light Sufferings give tis leisure to complain ; 
 We groan, but cannot speak, in greater Pain. 
 
 ffirt^f. — Moore. 
 
 THE world had just begun to steal 
 Each hope, that led me Hghtly on; 
 I felt not as I us'd to feel, 
 
 And life grew dark, and Lore was gone ! 
 No eye to mingle Sorrow's tear. 
 
 No hp to mingle Pleasure's breath, 
 No tongue to call me kind and dear— 
 'Twas gloomy, and I wish'd for Death! 
 
 ©rtcf, — Shalcespeare. 
 
 OTHAT this too, too sohd Flesh would melt, 
 Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew ! 
 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
 His Canon 'gainst Self-slaughter! O Grod! O God! 
 How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable 
 Seem to me all the uses of this world ! 
 Eie on'tl O fie! 'tis an unweeded Grarden, 
 That grows to Seed ; things rank, and gross in nature. 
 Possess it merely. 
 
 (Srtef. — Moore. 
 
 ALAS ! the breast that inly bleeds 
 Hath nought to dread from outward blow : 
 Who falls from all he knows of Bhss, 
 Cares httle into what abyss. 
 
 (Bxizi. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 EACH substance of a Grrief hath twenty shadow?, 
 Wliich show hke Grief itself, but are not so : 
 For Sorrow's eye, glaz'd with blinding Tears, 
 Divides one thmg entire, to many objects. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 CSvicJ. — Shakespeare. 
 Some G-rief shows much, of Love ; 
 But much of Grief shows still some want of Wit. 
 
 (Sxiti. — Byron. 
 
 THE wither' d frame, the ruia'd mind, 
 The wreck by Passion left behind, 
 A shrivell'd scroll, a scatter' d leaf, 
 Sear'd by the autumn blast of Grief! 
 
 ©rtCf. — Dryden. 
 He withers at his Heart, and looks as wan 
 As the pale spectre of a murder' d man. 
 
 CSrtff. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HAD 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 G-uilty, and appal the Pree, 
 Confound the ignorant ; and amaze, indeed, 
 The very faculties of eyes and ears. 
 
 ffil'ltf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 He rais'd a Sigh so piteous and profound, 
 As it did seem to shatter all liis bulk, 
 And end his being. 
 
 ©rteJ. — Spenser. 
 
 NEXT him went Griefe and Fury, matcht yfere; 
 G-riefe all in sable sorrowfully clad, 
 Downe hanging his dtill 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 hfe they ladd 
 In wiLfull languor and consuming smart, 
 Dying each day with inward wounds of Dolom-'s dart. 
 
 ffirtCf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MOST subject is the fattest soil to weeds ; 
 And he, the noble Image of my youth. 
 Is over-spread with them : therefore my Grief 
 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death. 
 
 (Bxitl. — Martial. 
 She grieves sincerely who grieves when alone. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 205 
 
 ([sritf. — Joanna Baillie. 
 Like a pent-up flood, swoln to tlie lieiglit, 
 He pour'd his G-riefs into my breast with Tears, 
 Such as the manhest men in then* cross' d hves 
 Are sometimes forced to shed. 
 
 (BiXiti. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Mt Grief Hes all within, 
 And these external manners of laments 
 Are merely shadows to the unseen G-rief, 
 That swells with siLence in the tortur'd Soul. 
 
 aSXXti. — Shalcespeare. 
 What, man! ne'er puU yotu- hat upon your brows ; 
 Give Sorrow words : the Grief, that does not speak, 
 Whispers the o'er-fraught Heart, and bids it break. 
 ®rtcf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0 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 Eomeo, press one heavy Bier. 
 
 fficftcf. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THEEE 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 oui-selves, 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 
 I for the Livmg. I call this a species of hypocrisy, because 
 1 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 reputation 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. 
 
 CSrtef. — Shalcespeare. 
 Like the LHy, 
 That once was mistress of the field, and flourished, 
 rH hang my Head, and perish. 
 
 <&Xi£t. — Shalcespeare. 
 Ah, cut my lace asunder ! 
 I That my pent Heart may have some scope to beat, 
 I j Or else I swoon with this dead-killuig news. 
 
zo6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 (&xitt. — ShaJcespeare, 
 No, I'R not weep : — 
 I have full cause of weeping ; but tlus Heart 
 Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, 
 Ere rU weep : — 0 Fool, I shall go mad ! 
 
 aSiXXZt — Fliny. 
 
 HOWEVER, I by no means wish to become less sus- 
 ceptible of Tenderness. I know these kiad of mis- 
 fortunes would be estimated by other persons only as 
 common losses, and from such Sensations they would 
 conceiye themselves great and wise men. I shall not 
 detei-mine either their Grreatness or their Wisdom ; but I 
 am certaia they have no Humanity. It is the part of a 
 man to be affected with Grrief, to feel Sorrow, at the same 
 time that he is to resist it, and to admit of Comfort. 
 
 <&Xitl. — 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. 
 
 <&Xizt. — Shakespeare. 
 ?rpiS double Death to drowTi in ken of shore: 
 
 X He ten times pines, that pines beholding food : 
 To see the salve, doth make the wound ache more ; 
 Great G-rief grieves most at that would do it good : 
 Deep Woes roll forward hke a gentle flood, 
 Who, bemg stopp'd, the bounding bank o'erflows; 
 Grrief dallied with, nor law nor hmits knows. 
 
 ©I'tcf, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Men 
 
 Can counsel, and speak comfort to that Grrief, 
 Which they themselves not feel ; but tasting it, 
 Their coiinsel tm-ns to Passion, wliich before 
 Would give preceptial mediciae 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 wi-ing under the load of Sorrow : 
 But no man's virtue, nor Sufficiency, 
 To be so moral, when he shall endm-e 
 The like himself. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 207 
 
 <&xiti. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN remedies are past, the G-riefs 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, I 
 What cannot be preserved when Fortune takes, | 
 Patience her injury a mockery makes. 
 The robb'd, that smiles, steals something from the Tliief ; 
 He robs himself, that spends a bootless Grief. 
 
 ®r0btncr^. — Fersius. 
 O Souls, in whom no heavenly Fire is found, j 
 Fat Minds, and ever grov'hng on the ground ! 1 
 
 ©runtSlmCj;. — Graves. 
 
 EVERT one must see daily instances of people who 
 complaia from a mere Habit of Complaining. 
 
 ©rumiiilinji. — GrevUle. 
 
 THEEE is an unfortunate disposition in a man to 
 attend much more to the Faults of his companions 
 which olFend him, than to their Perfections which pleaae 
 him. 
 
 ffitttlt. — Milton. 
 Eaeth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat 
 Sigliing through all her works gave signs of Woe. 
 
 f^aiatt. — CoUon. 
 
 IT is almost as difficult to make a man unlearn his 
 Errors as his Knowledge. 
 
 ^alitt. — Shahespeare. 
 
 KEEP a Gramester fe-om the dice, and a good student | 
 from his book, and it is wonderful. 
 
 ^aStt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THAT monster. Custom, who all sense doth eat 
 Of Habit's devil, is angel yet in this ; j 
 That to the use of Actions fair and good 
 He hkewise gives a fi'ock, or hvery. 
 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 cm-b the DevU, or throw him out 
 With wondrous potency. 
 
2o8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTR; 
 
 ilaiilt. — Seneca, \ 
 
 TO things whicli you bear with Impatience you should 
 accustom yourself, and, by Habit, you wiU bear 
 them well. 
 
 ?|aiitt. — Tucier. 
 
 THEE.E are Habits contracted by bad example, or bad 
 management, before we have J udgment 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 i 
 quarter. 
 
 ^afitt. — Horace. 
 
 ANEW Cask wiU long preserre the Tincture of the j 
 hquor with which it is first impregnated. 
 
 ^K^^XXXtii. — From the French. 
 
 THE Happiness of the human race in this world does 
 not consist in oui* being devoid of Passions, but in ! 
 our learning to command them. 1 
 
 f^ajjpmc^^. — Addison. 
 
 TRUE Happiaess is of a retired natiire, 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 j ; 
 false Happiness loves to be in a crowd, and to draw the 1 
 eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive any ' 
 Satisfaction from the applauses wliich she gives herself 
 but from the admiration wliich she raises in others. 
 
 l^a^pjpmC^^. — Goldsmith. \ 
 
 EVERT mind seems capable of entertaining a certam j 
 quantity of Happiness, which no institutions can in- 
 crease, no circumstances alter, and entirely independent 
 on Fortune. Let any man compare his present Fortune 
 with the past, and he will probably find hunself, upon the 
 whole, neither better nor worse than formerly. 
 
 llajJJItne^^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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 wliite hairs, but Competency hves longer. 
 
 "^Wj^Tj^xmii, — ShaJcespeare. 
 The bitter past, more welcome is the Sweet. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 209 
 
 ?l^aj[3j[3{U£:S"^. — Steele. 
 
 INDOLENCE 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 hves in a series of temperate meals, friendly conver- 
 sations, and easy slumbers, gives himseK no trouble about. 
 WliUe men of Refinement are talking of Tranquillity, he 
 possesses it. 
 
 ^apjJUtJJ^jS. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 IT is a kind of Happiness to know to what extent we 
 may be unhappy. 
 
 l^appmC^jS. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH happy you! who blest with present Bliss, 
 See not with fatal prescience futm'e Tears, 
 I Nor the dear moment of Enjoyment miss 
 i Through gloomy Discontent, or sullen Eears 
 ! Foreboding many a storm for coming years ; 
 ; Change is the lot of all. Om'selves with scorn 
 I Perliaps shall view what now so fair appears ; 
 
 And wonder whence the fancied Charm was boni, 
 ; Which now with vain Despair from our fond grasp is torn! 
 
 j l^ajipmC^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HIS 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. 
 
 ^^itjjptne^^. — Fope. 
 
 ORDER is Heav'n'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. 
 Heav'n to mankind impartial we confess, 
 If all are equal in their Happiness : 
 ! But mutual wants this Happiness increase ; 
 
 All Nature's difi'erence keeps all Natvu-e's peace. 
 
 Condition, circumstance, is not the thing ; 
 
 Bhss 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 : 
 
 Heav'n breathes through every member of the whola, 
 
 One common Blessiag, as one common Soul. 
 
 i 
 
 ti 
 
2IO ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 l^apjpmc^^. — Thomson. 
 
 EVN not all tliese, in one rich lot combin'd, 
 Can make tlie happy man, without the mind 5 
 Where Judgment sits clear-sighted, and sui-veys 
 The chain of Reason with unerring gaze ; 
 Where Eancy hves, and to the brightening eyes, 
 His fairer scenes, and bolder figures rise ; 
 Where social Love exerts her soft command, 
 I And Plays the Passions with a tender hand, 
 I Whence every Yirtue flows, in rival strife, 
 i And all the moral Harmony of life. 
 
 I ^ga^JJltne^^. — GrevUle. 
 
 HAEDLY a man, whatever his circumstances and situ- 
 ation, 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 : 
 I we might almost be tempted to think so. Is not this to i 
 be accounted for, by supposing that all men measure the 
 Happiness they possess, by the Happiaess they desire, or 
 think they desei've. 
 
 l^a^ipmeiS^. — Korace. 
 " demand is here, or at Ulubrse." You 
 
 i I Y V traverse the world in search of Happiness, wliich | 
 i ! is within the reach of every man ; a contented Mind confers \ 
 I it on all. 
 
 ! f^ajjptnp^^. — ShaJcespeare. t 
 
 WHAT ! we have many goodly days to see : 
 The liquid drops of Tears that you have shod, 
 Shall come agam, transform' d to orient Pearl; 
 Advantaging their loan, with. interest 
 Often-times-double gain of Happiness. 
 
 ! ?^ajiptU£g^. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 Y Alls' schemer, think not to prolong thy J oy ! 
 But cherish while it lasts the heavenly boon I 
 I Expand thy sails ! thy little bark shall fly 
 ! With the full tide of Pleasm-e! though it soon 
 i May feel the influence of the changeful Moon, 
 ' It yet is thine ! then let not doubts obscure j 
 1 With cloudy vapours veil thy briUiant Noon, ; 
 I { Nor let Suspicion's tainted breath impm'e \ 
 ' I Poison the favouring gale which speeds thy course secure! : 
 ij _J 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 211 
 
 ^ajpjpmC^S. — CoUon. 
 
 HAPPINESS 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 her, Wisdom is but a shadow, and 
 ' Virtue a name ; she is their sovereign mistress. 
 
 I^ajijpute^^. — Fope. 
 
 OH, Happiness ! our being's end and aim ; 
 Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content, — whate'er thy name : 
 That something stiU which prompts th' eternal sigh, 
 For which we bear to Kve, or dare to die. 
 Which stin 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 ? 
 
 f^a^JJtne^^. — Colton. 
 
 IN the constitution both of our mind and of our body, 
 every thing must go on right, and harmonise 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 ovmce of perfect 
 Pleasure ; and he knows little of himself, or of the world, 
 who does not think it siiiScient Happiness to be fi'ee fi'om 
 Sorrow ; therefore, give a wise man Health, and he will 
 give himself every other thing. 
 
 ?§ajpjimeg^. — Cowper. 
 
 THE heart is hard in nature, and. unfit 
 For human fellowship, as being void 
 Of Sympathy, and therefore dead ahke 
 To Love and Friendship both, that is not pleas'd 
 ! With sight of animals enjoying life, 
 
 I Nor feels their Happiness augment his own. 
 
 j l^ajjptnC^^. — 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 ; 
 I For he that lives reth'ed in mind and spu-it, 
 i Is stUl in Paradise. 
 
la ILLU8TBATI0NS OF TRUTII; 
 
 ^ijajapine^^. — CoUon. 
 
 HAPPINESS is mucli more equally divided than some 
 of lis 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. 
 
 ^ajjjpto^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IEAEN 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. 
 
 ENOW, all the good that individuals find. 
 Or Grod 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, oh, Vhtue ! Peace is all thy own. 
 The good or bad the gifts of Fortune gain ; 
 But these less taste them, as they worse obtain. 
 
 l^a^JJUTC^^. — Burns. 
 
 THINK ye, that sic as you and I, 
 Wha drudge and drive thro' wet and diy, 
 Wi' never-ceasing toil ; 
 Think ye, are we less blest than they 
 Wlia scarcely tent us in their way. 
 As hardly worth their while ? 
 
 fljrqpjimC^^. — Bryden. 
 They hve too long, who Happiness out-live : 
 For life and death are things indiiferent ; 
 Each to be chose, as either brings Content. 
 I^ajptng^^. — Shakespeare. 
 "\, HOW bitter a thing it is to look into Happiness 
 
 l^a^pttte^S. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 SILENCE is the perfectest herald of Joy : I were but 
 httle Happy, if I could say how much. 
 ^n^pmtSi. — Greville. 
 
 I KNOW not whether the tmest and best state of 
 Nature be not a state of more Prejudice and Ignorance 
 than we are aware of. 
 
 l^ajpjputP^^S. — -Pope- 
 
 through another man's eyes ! 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 213 
 
 l^ajJ^tlTCS^. — Colton. 
 
 THERE is this difference between Happiness and Wis- 
 dom : he that thinks himself tlie happiest man, really 
 is so ; but he that thinks himself the wisest, is generally 
 the greatest Eool. 
 
 "^W^^intii. — Burns. 
 
 IT'S no' in Books, it's no' in lear, 
 To make ns 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. 
 
 l^apjJtue^^. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 THE Bliss e'en of a moment, stni is Bhss. 
 Thou wouldst not of her dew-di-ops spod the thorn 
 Because her Grlory wiU. not last tdl noon ; 
 Nor stdl the lightsome gambols of the Colt, 
 Whose neck to-morrow's yoke will gall. 
 
 ^^a^JIUTC^^. — Young. 
 
 WHAT makes Man wretched? Happiness deny'd? 
 No : 'tis Happiness disdain' d. 
 She comes too meanly drest to win our smUe ; 
 And calls herself Contend, a homely name ! 
 Our flame is Transport, and Content our scorn. 
 Ambition turns, and shuts the door against her, 
 And weds a Toil, a Tempest, in her stead. 
 
 I^iljljpint^^. — Ducliesse de Fraslin. 
 
 OUR Happiness in this world depends on the affections 
 we are enabled to inspire. 
 
 l^ajpjpiUCS"^. — Prudentius. 
 
 WE thro' this maze of Life one Lord obey, 
 Whose Light and Grace imerring 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. 
 
 ^ayjjimcs"^. — Steme. 
 
 A LAS ! if the principles of Contentment are not within 
 us,— the height of Station and worldly Grandeui- will 
 as soon add a cubit to a man's statiire as to his Happiness. 
 
214 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 l^ajp J) titers". — Shenstone. 
 
 IT is one species of Despair to have no room to hope for 
 any addition to one's Happiness. His following wish 
 must then be to wish he had some fi'esh object for Ms 
 wishes ; a strong Argument that otu" minds and bodies 
 were both meant to be for ever active. 
 
 l^aqpjJtltC^^. — Johnson. 
 
 THE fountain of Content must spring up in the Mind ; 
 and he, who has so little knowledge of human nature, 
 as to seek Happiness by changing any thing but his own 
 Dispositions, will waste his life in fruitless eiforts, and 
 multiply the Griefs which he purposes to remove. 
 
 fEjajJfJUXe^^. — Landor. 
 
 GOODNESS does not more certainly make men happy 
 than Happiness makes them good. We must distin- 
 guish between Eelicity and Prosperity, for Prosperity leads 
 often to Ambition, and Ambition to Disappointment ; the 
 course is then over, the wheel turns round but once, wMe 
 the reaction of Goodness and Happiness is perpetual. 
 
 f^ajJptlW^^. — Paley. 
 Happimss consists in the constitution of the Habits. 
 
 |^aj)J)tne^^. — Anon. 
 
 IF Happiness were an attainment of the Mind, to be 
 acquired as a science or an art is learnt from the master, 
 the teacher might justly be considered as the Vice-gerent 
 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 respecting him- 
 self. 
 
 I^afipmc^^. — Seneca. 
 
 THE great Blessings of mankind are vnthin' us, and 
 within our reach, but we shut our Eyes, and. Hire 
 people in the dark, we fall foul upon the very thing we 
 search for, without finding it. 
 
 ^K^^imii. — Addison. 
 
 CONTENTMENT produces, in some measure, all those 
 effects which the Alchymist usually ascribes to what 
 he calls the Pliilosopher's Stone ; and if it does not bring 
 Eiches, it does the same thing by banishing the desire of 
 them. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 215 
 
 '^K^^intii. — Pope. 1 
 
 BORN to no Pride, inheriting no strife, I 
 
 Nor marrying discord in a noble Wife, | 
 
 Stranger to civil and religious rage, 1 
 
 The good man walk'd innoxious through his Age ; \ 
 
 No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, 1 
 
 Nor dar'd 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, i 
 
 Healthy by Temp'rance and by Exercise ; j 
 
 His hfe, though long, to sickness pass'd unknown, ; 
 His Death was instant, and without a groan. 
 O grant me thus to live, and thus to die ! 
 
 Who sprung from Kings shall know less joy thai^, I. | i 
 
 "^K^^iwt^i, — Mackenzie. \ j 
 
 I HAVE observed one ingredient somewhat necessary in | i 
 
 a man's composition towards Happiness, which people j | 
 
 of feeling would do well to acquhe — a certain respect for '■ 
 the folhes of mankind : for there are so many Fools whom 
 
 the world entitles to regard, whom accident has placed in : 
 
 heights of which they are miworthy, that he who cannot i 
 
 restrain his Contempt or Indignation at the sight, wUl be I 
 too often quai'relling with the disposal of tilings to rehsh 
 that share which is allotted to himself. 
 
 ^^ajjJJItnt^^. — Burton. i 
 
 AS tLi Ivy twines aroimd the Oak, so does Misery and j 
 
 Misfortune encompass the Happiness of man. Felicity, \ 
 pm-e and unalloyed Felicity, is not a plant of earthly 
 
 growth ; her gardens are the Skies. i 
 
 ||ajP]ptlte^^. — Budgell. I 
 
 AS nothing is more natural than for every one to desire i , 
 
 to be happy, it is not to be wondered at that the ] 
 
 wisest men in all ages have spent so much time to dis- ji 
 
 cover what Happiness is, and wherein it chiefly consists, j | 
 
 An eminent writer, named Van-o, reckons up no less than I ' 
 
 two hundred and eighty-eight different Opinions upon , 
 
 tins subject; and another, called Lucian, after having 1 
 
 given us a long catalogue of the notions of several phUo- i i 
 
 sophers, endeavours to show the Absurdity of aU of them, j 
 
 without estabhshiug any thing of his own. j ; 
 
z 1 6 ILL IT STB A HONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 ^japjinC^^. — Seneca. 
 
 HE must be Miserable who does not consider himself 
 Happy, although he could command the Universe; 
 no man can be Happy who does not think liimself so, for 
 it signifies not how exalted soever your Station may be, if 
 it appears to you bad. 
 
 I^arifne^^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Yet famine 
 
 Ere clean it o'erthrow ]Sratu.re, makes it vahant. 
 Plenty, and peace, breeds Cowards ; Hardness ever 
 Of Hardness \i mother. 
 
 l^artnCS^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I 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 
 Woidd at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir 
 As hfe were in't : I have supp'd full of Horrors : 
 Direness, famihar to m.y slaught'rous Thoughts, 
 Cannot once start me. 
 
 Clje l^arlCt. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 'Tis the Strumpet's plague, 
 To beguile many, and be beguU'd by one. 
 
 ?^atrelJ. — Ln Rochefoucauld. 
 "TT7HEN owY Hatred is too keen, it places us beneatli 
 V Y those we hate. 
 
 ^atrCiJ. — La Bruyere. 
 
 TO be deprived of the person we love, is a Happiness in 
 comparison of living with one we hate. 
 
 I^atrclf. — La Bruyere. 
 rriHE passion of Hatred is so durable, and so inveterate, 
 i that the surest prognostic of Death in a sick man u u 
 wish for Eieconciliation. 
 
 l^atreU. — Plutarch. 
 
 IF 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 m 
 indiU'erent to you, 
 
 ■]i^atreU. — from the Latin. 
 To escape Hatred is to gain a Triumph. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 217 
 
 I 
 
 l^atrctf. — Tacitus. 
 T is the nature of the liuman disposition to Hate him 
 whom you liave injured. 
 
 ?iicaW> — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 THE only way for a rich man to be healthy, is by 
 Exercise and Abstinence, to hve as if he was poor. 
 I^Calfl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 INFIEMITY doth still neglect all office 
 Whereto our Health is bound ; we are not ourselves 
 When Nature, being oppress' d, commands the mind 
 To suifer with the body. 
 
 ^Caltl). — 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 hm-ts him, is the best physic to preserve 
 Health. 
 
 !J§CaItIj. — Addison. 
 
 PHYSIC, for the most part, is nothing else but the 
 substitute of Exercise and Temperance. 
 
 I^Caltlj. — Johnson. 
 
 HEALTH is certainly more valuable than Money, be- 
 cause it is by Health that Money is procured ; but 
 thousands and milhons are of smaU. avail to aUeviate 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 in the arms of Sickness. 
 
 I^CaXtl). — Sterne. 
 
 0 BLESSED Health! thou art above all Gold and 
 Treasiu-e; 'tis thou who enlargest the Soul,— and 
 openest all its powers to receive instruction, and to relish 
 Yirtue.— He that has thee has httle more to wish for ! 
 and he that is so wretched as to want thee, wants every 
 thing with thee. 
 
 §§CaIt1). — Claudian. 
 
 HAIL, greatest Good Dardanian fields bestow. 
 At whose command Pffionian waters flow ; 
 Unpurchas'd Health ! that dost thy aid impart 
 Both to the Patient and the Doctor's art ! 
 
2l8 
 
 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 PJealtlj. — Churchill. 
 The surest road to Health, say what they -will, 
 Is never to suppose we shall be ill. 
 
 ^Caltl^. — Lucan. 
 
 Thotj chiefest Good! 
 Bestow'd by Heaven, but seldom understood. 
 
 ^tnXttf. — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 HEALTH is the soul that animates all enjoyments of 
 lite, 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 sparklintf 
 beauties, poor and vsretched in the midst of the greatest 
 treasures and fortunes ; with common diseases Strength 
 grows decrepit. Youth loses all vigour, and Beauty all 
 charms ; Music grows harsh, and Conversation disagree- 
 able ; Palaces are prisons, or of equal confinement ; Kiches 
 are useless. Honour and attendance 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. 
 
 I^talti^. — South. 
 
 SELDOM shall we see in Cities, Courts, and rich 
 families where men hve plentifully, and eat and di-ink 
 freely, that perfect Health, that atliletic soundness and 
 vigour of Constitution, which is commonly seen in tlie 
 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 Apothecaiy. 
 
 ?|0altlj. — 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 
 stni 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 theh Money for Health. 
 
on, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 219 
 
 l^^altl^. — Martial. 
 Foe Life is not to lire, but to be Well. 
 
 I^Calt^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 rT^lHE Humoxu-s of the body have a stated and regrJar 
 JL com-se, which impels and imperceiatibly guides our 
 Will. They co-operate with each other, and exercise 
 successirely a secret Empire within us ; so that they have 
 a considerable part in all our Actions without our being 
 able to know it. 
 
 I^taltl^. — CoUon. 
 
 ANG-UISH of Mind has driven thousands to suicide ; 
 Anguish of Body, none. Tliis 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. 
 I^Calfi). — Sterne. 
 
 PEOPLE who are always taking care of their Health 
 are hke misers, who are hoarding up a treasure which 
 they have never spirit enough to enjoy. 
 
 I^ealt^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 PRESERVING the Health by too strict a regimen is a 
 wearisome malady. 
 
 flraltl^. — Sir FUUp Sidney. 
 G-EEAT Temp'rance, open air, 
 Easy labour, httle Care. 
 (Srcat l^^art^. — Byron. 
 
 Look on me ! there is an order 
 Of mortals on the earth, who do become 
 Old in then- youth, and die ere middle age, 
 Without the violence of warHke Death ; 
 Some perishing of Pleasure — some of Study — 
 Some worn with Toil — some of mere weariness — 
 Some of Disease — and some Insanity — 
 And some of wither' d, or of broken Hearts ; 
 For this last is a malady which slays 
 More than are nimiber'd in the hsts of Fate, 
 Taking aU shapes, and bearing many names. 
 l^ea&eiT. — Lavater. 
 
 THE Generous who is always Just, and the Just who is 
 always Generous, may, unannounced, approach the 
 tlurone of Heaven. 
 
_ -l 
 
 220 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 ii^Catien. — Young. 
 
 ONE Sun by day, by night ten thousand sloine, 
 And light us deep into the Deity ; 
 How boundless in Magnificence and Might ! 
 O what a confluence of ethereal Fires, 
 From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of Heareri, 
 Streams to a point, and centres 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. 
 
 K^e ^^eabcn^. — Byron. 
 
 YE Stars ! which are the poetry of Heaven, 
 If in your bright leaves we would read the fare 
 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 rev'rence from afar, 
 That Fortune, Fame, Pow'r, Life, have nam'd themselves 
 a star. 
 
 Igtabeit^. — Hyron. 
 
 Oh, thou beautiful 
 And unimaginable Ether ! and 
 Ye multiplying masses of increas'd 
 And stih- 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 measLir'd for ye ? Or do ye 
 Sweep on ia your unbounded Eevehy 
 Tlirough an aerial universe of endless 
 Expansion, at which my soul aches to think, 
 Intoxicated with Eternity ? 
 Oh God ! Oil Grods ! 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, 
 (If that they die) or know ye in your Might 
 And Knowledge ! My thoughts are not in this houi 
 Unworthy what I see, though my dust is ; 
 Spirit ! let me expire, or see them nearer. 
 
OB, THINGS NMW AND OLD. 221 
 
 Wi)t ^tn.'iitlXi. — Young. 
 
 WHAT involution ! wliat extent ! what swarnas 
 Of worlds, that laugh at Earth ! immensely great ! 
 Immensely distant from each other's spheres ; 
 What, then, the wondrous Space through wliich they roll ? 
 At once it quite engulphs aU human thought ; 
 'Tis comprehension's absolute Defeat. 
 
 K\)t Hca&m^. — Young. 
 
 THIS Prospect vast, what is it ?— weigh'd aright, 
 'Tis Nature's system of Divinity, 
 And every student'of the Night inspires. 
 'Tis elder Scripture, vreit by Grod's own hand : 
 Scriptiire authentic ! uncorrupt by man. 
 
 THAT Man of loneliuess and mystery, 
 Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh ; 
 Wliose name appals the fiercest of his crew, 
 And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue ; 
 StiU sways their Souls with that commanding art 
 That dazzles, leads, yet cliiUs the vulgar heart. 
 Wliat is that SpeU, that thus his lawless train 
 Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain ? 
 What should it be that thus then- faith can bind ? 
 The power of Thought— the magic of the Mind ! 
 Link'd with success, assum'd and kept with skill, 
 That moulds another's weakness to its wiU ; 
 Wields with their hands, bu.t, 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 ! 
 
 Cijt l^trO. — Joanna Baillie. 
 Ev'n to the duUest Peasant standing by, 
 WIio fasten' d still on lum a wondering Eye, 
 He seem'd the master spirit of the Land. 
 ^ttaiim. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I HAVE, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft, 
 Labom-ing for destiny, make cruel way 
 
 ^l)t ^eva, — Sgron. 
 
122 
 
 ILLUSTRATION S OF TRUTH; 
 
 Through ranks of Greekish youth : and I have seen thee, 
 
 As hot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, 
 
 Despismg many forfeits and subduements, 
 
 When thou hast hung thy advanced sword i' the air, 
 
 Nor letting it dechne on the dechned ; 
 
 That I have said to some my standers-by, 
 
 Lo, Jupiter is yonder, deahng hfe ! 
 
 And I have seen thee pause, and take thy breath. 
 
 When that a ring of Grreeks have hemm'd thee in, 
 
 Like an Olympian wresthng. 
 
 '^txaiim, — Colton. 
 
 WE cannot think too highly of our ISTature, nor too 
 
 humbly of ourselves. When vre see the Martyr to ■ 
 
 Virtue, subject as he is to the infirmities of a man, yet |j 
 
 suffering the tortures of a demon, and bearing them witli i \ 
 
 the magnanimity of a G-od, do we not behold an Heroism ' 
 
 that angels may indeed surpass, but which they camiot \\ 
 
 imitate, and must admire. j 
 
 I^OlIfliline^^. — Shalcespeare, 
 
 THE HE are no tricks in plain and simple Eaith : j \ 
 But hollow men, hke Horses hot at hand, 
 Make gallant show and promise of their mettle : 
 But when they shotild endure the bloody spur, 
 They fall their crests, and, like deceitful Jades, 
 Sink in the Trial. 
 
 I^nlg OTar. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEN if you fight against Grod's enemy, 
 Grod 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 Pat shall pay your pains the Hire. 
 If you do fight in safeguard of your Wives, 
 Yo\ir wives shall welcome home the conquerors. 
 If you do free your Children from the sword, 
 Your children's childi-en quit it in your Age. 
 
 "^axat. — Byron. 
 
 HE enter' d in liis house — his Home no more, 
 Eor without Hearts, there is no Home ; — and felt ' 
 The soHtude of passing his own door 
 Without a Welcome. jj 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 113 
 
 I^DmC. — Goldsmith, 
 
 IN all my wand' rings round this world of care, 
 In all my Griefs — and God has giv'n my share — ■ 
 I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, 
 Amidst these humble Bow'rs to lay me down; 
 To husband out hfe'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-learned skill, 
 Around my fire an ev'ning 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. 
 
 , I^Omt. — Burns. 
 
 AT length his lonely Cot appears in view, 
 Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; 
 Th' expectant wee things, todhn, stacher tlirough 
 To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise and glee. 
 His wee-bit ingle bhnkin bonihe. 
 
 His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty Wifie'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. 
 
 ^avat, — Hannah More. 
 
 THE angry word suppress' d, the taunting thought* 
 Subduing and subdu'd, the petty strife. 
 Which clouds the colour of domestic Life ; 
 The sober comfort, all the peace wlaich springs 
 From the large aggregate of little things ; 
 On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, 
 The almost sacred joys of Home depend. 
 
 |§0me. — Mrs. Opie. 
 
 HENCE 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 imtold and peaceful move ; 
 So fate ordain I sometimes there 
 May hear the Yoice of liim I love. 
 
224 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 I^OmC. — Shenstone. 
 
 THE proper means of increasing the lore we bear our 
 Native Country, is to reside some time in a foreign I 
 
 one. 
 
 |^0m^. — Thomson. 
 
 THE tonch of kindred too and love he feels ; . 
 The modest eye, whose beams on his alone 
 Ecstatic shine : the httle strong embrace 
 Of pratthng children, twin'd around Ms neck, 
 And emulous to please liim, 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 smihng kind. 
 This is the Life which those who fi-et in guilt, 
 And guilty cities, never know ; the hfe, 
 Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt, ' 
 When angels dwelt, and Grod himself, with man ! 
 
 UrtntE. — Young. 
 
 The first sure symptom of a mind in Health, 
 Is rest of heart, and pleastire felt at Home. 
 
 I^Ome. — Southey. 
 
 FAREWELL 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 simshine of the evening ray. 
 Farewell ! Mine eyes no longer shall pursue 
 
 The westering sun beyond the utmost heiglit, j 
 
 When slowly he forsakes the fields of light. | 
 
 No more the freshness of the faUing dew, \ 
 
 Cool and dehghtful, here shall bathe my head, ' 
 
 As from this western window dear I lean, j 
 
 Listening the while I watch the placid scene, — ' 
 
 The martins twittering underneath the shed. ! 
 
 Farewell my Home, where many a day has past i 
 
 In joys whose loved Eemembrance long shall last» j 
 
 ^Ollt^tg. — Shalcespeare. j 
 
 THEEE is no terror in your threats ; 
 
 For I am arm'd so strong in Honesty, I 
 
 That they pass by me as the idle wind, [ 
 
 Which I respect not. j 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 225 
 
 The brave do never shun the Light ; 
 
 Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; 
 
 Freely without Disguise tliey love or hate : 
 j StUl are they fo-und in the fau* face of day, 
 I And Heav'n and Men are Judges of their actions. 
 
 i l^nite^tM. — Socrates. 
 
 THE shortest and surest way to hve with Honour in 
 the world, is to be in reality what we would appear 
 to be ; and if we observe, we shall find, that all human 
 virtues increase and strengthen themselves, by the prac- 
 tice and Experience of them. 
 
 ! |§0nC^tg. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 WHILE others fish with craft for great opinion, 
 I with great Truth catch mere Simphcity ; 
 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. 
 
 '^Ont^iia, — Cicero. 
 
 HAT is becoming is Honest, and what ever is 
 Honest must always be becoming. 
 
 "^kaxxtit^. — Colton. 
 
 NOTHING- more completely bafiles 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 quan-el with one Honest Man, than 
 with both. He can combat a Fool by management and 
 address, and he can conquer a Xnave by temptations. 
 But the Honest Man is neither to be bamboozled nor 
 i bribed. 
 
 |§ai«^ty. — 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 whilst he hves. 
 
 |§0ne^tg. — Shakespeare. 
 A N Honest Man is able to speak for himself, when a 
 i .11. Knave is not. 
 
I 225 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE ; 
 
 ?^0n^^ty. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BECAUSE I cannot flatter, and speak fail-, 
 Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cof 
 Duck with French nods and apish Courtesy, ° 
 I must be held a rancorous enemy. 
 Cannot a plain man live, and think no Harm, 
 ]3ut thus his simple Truth must be abused 
 By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? 
 
 ^mUitQ. — Montaigne. 
 
 ALL other Knowledge is hurtful to him who has not 
 Honesty and good-nature. 
 
 ^OltJ^tll. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 TO be Honest, as this World goes, is to be one man 
 picked out of ten thousand. 
 
 I^Une^tj). — Lavater. 
 
 HE who freely praises what he means to purchase, and 
 he who emmierates the Faults of what he means to 
 sell, may set up a partnership with Honesty. 
 
 ^muitQ. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 HIS 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. 
 
 '^QVlt^tQ. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Never anything can be amiss, 
 When Simpleness and Duty tender it. 
 
 HjaiT^^tg. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 AEIG-HT mind and generous affection hath more 
 Beauty and charms than aU 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 tm'n Knaves. 
 
 ^ant^i^. — Shenstone. 
 
 IT should seem that Indolence itself would incline a 
 person to be Honest, as it requires infinitely greater 
 panis and contrivance to be a Knave. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 227 
 
 ^01W5"ta. — Colton. 
 
 r' 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 fii-m and 
 Upright, and yields not. 
 
 ^antit^, — FranUin. 
 
 LET 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 sUken wretch because he hath 
 riches, nor pocket an Abuse because the hand wliich 
 offers it wears a ring set with Diamonds. 
 
 ^0n0t»r. — Dryden. 
 
 Woman's Honour 
 Is nice as Ermine, will not bear a soil. 
 
 |j§0n0ttr. — Shakespeare. 
 Mine Honom- is my Life ; both grow in one ; 
 Take Honour from me, and my Life is done. 
 
 ?§Olt0Ur. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BY Jove I am not covetous of Gold, 
 Nor care I who doth feed \ipon 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 ahve. 
 
 ^OltOttr. — Colton. 
 
 HONOUE is unstable, and seldom the same; for she 
 feeds upon Opinion, and is as fickle as her food. 
 She buUds a lofty structm-e 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 Hitn who is the same 
 yesterday — to day — and for ever. 
 
 ^0nOttr. — Shakespeare. 
 If well-respected Honour bid me on, 
 I hold as little counsel with weak fear, 
 As you. 
 
228 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 ^anOUV. — ShaJsespeare. 
 
 The mere word's a slave, 
 Del)aTacli'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. 
 
 |^0n0ttr. — FTiadrus. 
 
 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 hes open indifferently to 
 all. 
 
 l^flltOttl*. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 ?|J0jpe. — Von Knelel. 
 
 TEUE Hope is based on energy of character. A sti'ong 
 mind always hopes, and has always cause to hope, 
 because it knows the Mutabihty of human affau-s, and 
 how slight a circumstance may change the whole coiirso 
 of events. Such a spirit, too, rests upon itself; it is not 
 confined to partial views, or to one particidar object. 
 And if at last aU shotild 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 givmg up of the battle of life with dead 
 nothingness. He who can implant Courage in the human 
 soul is the best physician, 
 
 |^0je. — From the French. 
 Hope is the Dream of a waking man. 
 
 ^a^t. — Cowley. 
 
 HOPE ! Fortune's cheating lotteiy ! 
 Where for one prize a hundred blanks there be} 
 Fond archer, Hope! who tak'st thy aim so far, 
 That still or short or wide thine Arrows are ! 
 
 ||OJ)0. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 IN the treatment of nervous cases, he is the best 
 Physician who is the most ingenious inspirer of Hope. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 229 
 
 |^0p0. — Spenser. 
 Hope is rancke, a handsome mayd, 
 Of chearefull looke and lovely to behold ; 
 In silken samite she was hght arayd, 
 And her fayre locks were woven up in G-old. 
 She always smyld, and in her hand did hold 
 An holy- water spriackle, dipt in deowe, 
 With which she sprinkled Favours manifold 
 On whom she list, and did great hking sheowe, 
 Great hkiag unto many, but true love to feowe. 
 
 |§0JIC. — Leigldon. 
 
 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 vu-tue of this living hope, dum expiro spero 
 (whilst I expire I hope). 
 
 |^0}]C. — Collins. 
 
 BUT thou, 0 Hope, with eyes so fair, 
 What was thy delighted measia-e ? 
 StiU it whisper' d promised pleasure. 
 
 And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! 
 StUl would her touch the strain prolong, 
 
 And fe-om the rocks, the woods, the vale, 
 She call'd on Echo stiH thi-ough all her song ; 
 
 And where her sweetest theme she chose, 
 A soft responsive voice was heard at every close, 
 And Hope enchanted smiL'd, andwav'dher golden hair. 
 
 ^a^t. — Frior. 
 
 THUS, through what path soe'er of life we rove, 
 Eage 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 stUl what flies us to o'ertake. 
 For Hope is but the dream of those that wake. 
 
 I^OpC. — Shakespeare. 
 The ample proposition that Hope makes 
 In all designs begun on earth below, 
 Fails in the promis'd largeness. 
 
23° ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^0J)0. — Hume. 
 
 APEOPENSITT to Hope and Joy is real riches; ou 
 to Eear and Sorrow, real poverty. 
 
 |^0jp^, — Shakespeare, 
 Hope is a lover's Staff; walk hence with that, 
 And manage it agaiast despairing Thoughts. 
 
 ?§0J)t. — Cam-plell. 
 
 ATJSPICIOTJS Hope ! in thy sweet garden grow 
 Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe : 
 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' iEohan organ play, 
 And sweep the furrow' d lines of anxious Thought away! 
 |^0J)C. — Fo'pe. 
 
 HOPE humbly then ; with trembhng pinions soar, 
 Wait the great teacher, Death, and God adore: 
 What_ future bhss, 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 confin'd from Home, 
 Eests and expatiates in a life to come. 
 
 ^0J)0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The miserable hath no other Medicine, 
 But only Hope. 
 
 ||0J3g. — Byron. 
 
 WHITE 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. 
 
 |^0J^, — Shakespeare. 
 Trite Hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wing;;, 
 Kings it makes Grods, and meaner creatures Xings. 
 
 ?§OJ)e. — Froctor. 
 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 231 
 
 ^0^e. — Young. 
 
 HOPE, of all passions, most befriends us here ; 
 Passions of prouder name befriend us less. 
 Joy has her tears ; and transport has her Deatli : 
 Hope, like a cordial, innocent tho' strong, 
 JMan's heart at once inspirits, and serenes ; 
 Ivor 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 chastis'd dehght ! 
 Like the fau* summer ev'ning, mUd and sweet ! 
 'Tis man's full cup : his Paradise below ! 
 
 ^OJ!0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE hath persecuted Time with Hope; and finds no 
 other advantage in the process but only the losmg of 
 Hope by Time. 
 
 ?|0jpe. — Cowley. 
 
 Brother of Fear, more gayly clad ! 
 The merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad : 
 Sire of Repentance ! child of fond Desire ! 
 That blow'st the chymics', and the lovers' fii'e, 
 Leading them still insensibly on 
 By the strange witchcraft of " anon ! " 
 By thee the one does changing ISTatm-e, through 
 
 Her endless labyrinths, pursue ; 
 And th' other chases Woman, while she goes 
 More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows. 
 
 ^OJ)0. — Shakespeare., 
 Eten through the hollow eyes of Death, 
 I sp3' life peering ; but I dare not say 
 How near the tidings of our Comfort is. 
 
 '^a^t, — Cowley. 
 Hope ! of all ills that men endure, 
 Tlie only cheap and universal cm-e ! 
 Thou captive's Freedom, and thou sick man's Health! 
 Thou lover's Victory, and thou beggar's Wealth! 
 
 f?aip0. — Moore. 
 
 HER. precious pearl, in Sorrow's cup, 
 L^mnelted at the bottom lay, 
 To shme again, when, all di-unk up, 
 The bitterness should pass away. 
 
%%7. ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 |fj0^jlttaltta. — Goldsmith. 
 
 BLEST be that Spot, where cheerful Guests retire 
 To pause from Toil, and trim their evening fire ; 
 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 jests or pranks, 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 G-ood. 
 
 I^umau Perf0cti6tltta. — Amn. 
 
 THE strange iaconsistency is, that the very persons who 
 have indulged in the most splendid visions about the 
 Perfectibihty of Mankind, have mostly rejected the only 
 principle of Perfectibility which has ever foimd place in 
 man, the only principle by which man's natural corrupti- 
 bility has ever been checked, the only principle by which 
 nations and 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 tlirough Christianity 
 has a nation ever risen again : and it is solely on the ope- 
 ration of Christianity that we can ground anything like a 
 reasonable hope of the Perfectibihty of Mankind ; a hope 
 that what has often been wrought by individuals, may 
 also in the fulness of time be wrought by the same power 
 in the Race. 
 
 fijumaii p^rtecttliilttg. — Anon. 
 
 IT may be regarded as one of those instances of irony so 
 frequent in History, that the moment chosen by Man 
 to assert Ins Perfectibihty shordd 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 Equahty : 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 foimd the Equahty they 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 233 
 
 coveted in universal Prostration. Peace was fhe promise; 
 and the fulfilment was more tlian twenty years of fierce, 
 desolating War. 
 
 ?[juman progrc^^. — Colton. 
 
 ANALOG-Y, although it is not infallihle, 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 for Men ; but Babes require 
 mdk, and there may be intellectual food wliich 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 an Hottentot. 
 
 I^umaittty. — From the French. 
 
 FEW men are raised in our estimation by being too 
 closely examined. 
 
 I^ttmatllty. — Steele. 
 
 A WEALTHY Doctor who can help a poor man, and 
 wiU not without a fee, has less sense of Humanity 
 than a poor Euifian, who kiUs a rich man to supply his 
 necessities. 
 
 |iJtHtttttt|1. — St. Augustine. 
 
 THE suificiency of my Merit is to know that my Merit 
 is not suflicient. 
 
 |Ejltmtlity. — Fuller. 
 
 SEARCH others for their Virtues, and thyself for thy 
 Vices, 
 
 ff^ttmtltty. — Moore. 
 HtJMiLiTT, that low, sweet root 
 Prom wliich ah. heavenly Vh'tues shoot. 
 
 fjttmtlltji. — Selden. 
 
 HUMILITY is a virtue aU 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. 
 
 ^J^tmitlttg. — Shakespeare. 
 Ofteist, to our comfort, shah, we find 
 The sharded Beetle in a safer hold 
 Than is the full-whig' d Eagle. 
 
2 34 ILL USTRA HONS OF TB UTIT ; 
 
 ^umtltt^. — Shal-espeare. 
 
 HE that commends me to my own Content, 
 Commends me to the thing I cannot get. 
 I to the world am hke a drop of water, 
 That in the Ocean seeks another di-op ; 
 Who faihng there to find his fehow fovtb, 
 Unseen, inquisitive, confomids himseU'. 
 
 %ltm0Ur. — Anon. 
 
 LET your Himiour always be Grood Humour, in both 
 senses. If it comes of a Ead Humom-, it is pretty 
 sure not to behe its Parentage. 
 
 ^tmtflttr. — Rochefoucauld. 
 Theee are more faults in the Humour than in the Mind. 
 
 ^tttnOUr. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 IT may be said of men's Humours as of many bmldiiigs, 
 that they have divers Aspects, — some agreeable, others 
 disagreeable. 
 
 (SaoH ^xmawx. — Steele. 
 
 THE portable quality of Good Ilumoiu' seasons all the 
 parts and occurrences we meet with, in such a man- 
 ner that there are no moments lost : but they aU pass 
 with so much Satisfaction, that the heaviest of loads, 
 (when it is a load,) that of Time, is never felt by us, 
 
 (SffDtf ^ttmOttr. — Johnson. 
 
 GAIETY is to Good Humour as animal perfumes to 
 vegetable fragrance. The one overpowers weak sphits, 
 the other recreates and revives them. Gaiety seldom fails 
 to give some pain ; Good Humom* boasts no faculties, 
 which every one does not beheve in his own Power, and 
 pleases principally by not offending. 
 
 I^imtjo:. — Byron. 
 Famish'd people must be slowly nm-st, 
 And fed by Spoon&ls, else they always bvu-st 
 
 ^XXW^tt. — Fersius. 
 
 THE BeUy is a master of arts and aBestower of Genius. 
 Necessity often draws forth Talent which had before 
 lain dormant, and unknown even to its possessor. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 235 
 
 ?^itrry. — CoUon. 
 
 NO two tilings differ more than Hurry and Dispatch. 
 Hurry is the mark of a weak mind, Dispatcli of a 
 strong one. A weak man in ofSce, hke a squirrel in a 
 cage, is labom-ing eternally, but to no pui-pose, and in con- 
 stant motion without getting on a jot ; like a Turnstile, he 
 is in every body's way, but stops nobody ; he talks a great 
 deal, but says very httle ; looks into every thing, but sees 
 into nothing ; and has a hundred Irons m the fire, but 
 very few of them are hot, and with those few that are he 
 only bums his fingers. 
 
 ^UpOCri^g. — Fuller. 
 Tetist not him that seems a saint. 
 
 f^MJlOCri^g. — Shakes-peare. 
 
 HAST thou that holy feehng in thy soul, 
 To counsel me to make my peace with God, 
 And art thou yet to thy own Soul so blind. 
 That thou wilt war with Grod ? 
 
 igwpDClH^g. — Yomg. 
 
 The world's aU Title-page ; there's no Contents ; 
 The world's all face ; the man who shows Ms Heart 
 Is whooted for his nudities, and scorn' d. 
 
 ?§aflOCrt^Jl. — Lavater. 
 
 EVEEY thing may be mimicked by Hypocrisy, but 
 Humihty and Love united. The more rare the more 
 radiant when they meet. 
 
 |]§gjp0n"tSJl. — Shakesflare. 
 
 OCUNNHSTGr enemy, that, to catch a Saint, 
 With Saints dost bait thy hook ! Most dangerous 
 Is that Temptation, that doth goad us on 
 To sin ia loving Yirtue, 
 
 l^gJJOCrtSJ). — Milton. 
 
 HYPOCEISY, the only evil that walks 
 Invisible, except to Grod alone. 
 By his permissive will through Heav'n and Earth. 
 And oft though wisdom wakes, Suspicion sleeps 
 At Wisdom's gate, and to Simphcity 
 Eesigns her charge, while Goodness tliinks no iU 
 Wliere no ill seems. 
 
5 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 |^gj)0Crt^2' — CoUon. 
 
 IF 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. 
 
 pJjipoan^JJ. — Colton. 
 
 THERE is only one circiunstance in which the upright 
 man vsdll imitate the Hypocrite ; I mean in his 
 attempts to conciliate the good opinion of his fehow men. j 
 But here the similarity must cease, for their respective i 
 motives are wider than the Poles asunder : the former will | 
 attempt this to increase Ms power of doing good, the latter i 
 to augment his means of doing harm. 
 
 |^gp0Cri^l). — Shalcespeare, 
 
 To beguUe the Time, 
 Loot like the time ; bear welcome in your eyes, i 
 Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower; 
 But be the Serpent tmder ito . 
 
 ^HJ)0Cri^y. — Spenser. 
 
 THERETO when needed, she could weep and pray, 
 And when her hsted she could fawne and flatter ; 
 Now smyhng smoothly, hke to Sommer's day, 
 Now glooming sadly, so to cloke her matter : 
 Yet were her Words but wynd, and aU her Tears but water, 
 
 |^5p0Cri^B. — Addison. 
 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, 
 Or carry Smiles and Sunshine in my face, | 
 When Discontent sits heavy at my heart. j 
 
 Pj)p0Crt^l). — Shakespeare. \ 
 
 BUT then I sigh, and, with a piece of Scripture, 
 Teh them— that God bids us do good for evil; 
 And thus I clothe my naked vUlany 
 With old odd ends, stol'n forth of Holy Writ ; 
 And seem a Saint, when most I play the Devil. 
 Why, I can snule, and murder while I smile : ■ ! 
 And cry. Content, to that which grieves my heart ; | 
 And wet my cheeks with ai-tificial Tears, 
 And fram.e my Face to all occasions. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 237 
 
 l^yjIOan^J). — Shahespeare. 
 
 THE Devil can cite Scriptm-e for his purpose. 
 An evil sotil, producing holy witness, 
 Is like a villain vdth. a smiling cheek ; 
 A goodly Apple rotten at the Heart : 
 O, what a goodly outside Falsehood hath ! 
 
 ?l?M]p0a:t^a. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0 NATURE ! what hadst thou to do in Hell 
 When thou didst bower the spirit of a Fiend 
 In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh? — 
 "Was ever Book, containing such vile matter, 
 So fairly bound ? O, that Deceit should dwell 
 In such a gorgeous palace ! 
 O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face ! 
 Did ever Dragon keep so fan- a cave ? 
 Beautiful tyrant ! Fiend angelical ! 
 Dove-feather' d raven ! Wolfish-ravening lamb ! 
 Despised substance of divinest show ! 
 Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st! 
 
 |[Jll]p0Crt^U. — SJialcespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 ^^■Q^aixii^. — Milton. 
 
 I, UNDER fair pretence of friendly ends. 
 And well-plac'd words of glossy Court'sy, 
 Baited with reason not unplausible, 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man. 
 And hug him into Snares. 
 
 ^gjJOCl't^g. — Shakespeare. 
 
 He was a Man 
 Of an unbounded Stomach, ever ranking 
 Himself with Princes ; one that, by Suggestion, 
 'Tied aU the Kingdom : Simony was fair Play ; 
 His own Opinion was his Law : I' 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 j 
 But his Performance, as he is now, nothing. 
 
2 38 ILLUSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^ypOCrtJjg, — Shakespeare. 
 
 BE not you spoke with, but by mighty suit : 
 And look you get a Prayer-Book in your liand, 
 And stand between two churchmen, good my Lord ; 
 For on that ground I'R make a holy descant : 
 And be not easily won to our Requests ; 
 Play the maid's part — stdl answer Nay, and take it. 
 
 l^yjpOCrt^JI. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 To the common people. 
 How did he seem to dive into their heai'ts 
 With himible and familiar Courtesy ; 
 What reverence he did throw away on slaves ; 
 Wooitig poor craftsmen with the craft of Smiles, 
 And patient under-bearing of his fortune, 
 As 'twere to banish their Aifects with him. 
 Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench : 
 A brace of draymen bid, God speed him well ! 
 And had the tribute of his supple Knee ; 
 With — Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends. 
 
 (Bm BStK. — Swift. 
 
 COMMON 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 Gliurcli 
 when it is almost empty, than when a crowd is at the 
 Door. 
 
 (Bm 3BJ£3. — Swift. 
 
 THERE is a Brain that wiU endure but one scumming : 
 let the owner gather it with Discretion, and mana,!;3 
 his little stock with Husbandry ; but of all things let him | 
 beware of briaging it imder the lash of his betters. 
 
 <Bnt ^"iStK, — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE 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. 
 
 itfIei«)SjS. — Cowper. 
 
 Absence of Occupation is not rest, 
 
 A mind qmte vacant is a mind distress' d. 
 
 iitflmzSS, — From the Latin. 
 
 EVIL thoughts intrude in an imemployed Mind, as 
 naturally as Worms are generated in a stagnant pool. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 239 
 
 $lJl0nc^S. — Spenser. 
 
 FEOM worldly Cares himself he did esloyne, 
 And greatly shunned manly exercise ; 
 From everie worke he ohalenged essoyne, 
 For Contemplation sake : yet otherwise, 
 His life he led in lawlesse riotise, 
 By which he grew to grievous malady ; 
 For in his lustesse Hmbs through evil guise, 
 A shaking fever raign'd continually : 
 Such one was Idlenesse, first of this company. 
 
 iUfeneglS, — Young. \ 
 
 LEISURE is pain ; takes off our chariot wheels ; j 
 How heavily we di-ag the load of Life ! ' 
 Blest Leism-e is our cm'se ; like that of Cain, ■ 
 It makes us wander ; wander earth around ! 
 To fly that tyi'ant Thought. As Atlas groan'd ' 
 The World beneath, we groan beneath an Hour. 
 
 3iirlcn5^^. — Burton. \ 
 
 IDLENESS is the badge of Gentry, the bane of body 
 and mind, the nurse of Naughtiness, the step-mother 
 of Disciphne, the chief author of all Mischief, one of the 
 seven deadly sms, the cushion upon which the Devil 
 eliiefly 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. 
 3Eijn0rance. — Colton. 
 
 IT is with Nations as with individuals, those who know 
 the least of others think the highest of themselves : for i 
 the whole family of Piide and Ignorance are incestuous, 
 and mutually beget each other. 
 
 3Ellll0ij)!). — Shakespeare. 
 May be he is not well : 
 Infirmity doth still neglect all office. 
 Whereto our Health is bound ; we're not ourselves, 
 Wlien Nature, being oppress' d, commands the Mind 
 To suffer with the Body. 
 
 Wm^i. — Colton. 
 
 SOME persons wiU tell you, with an an* of the miracu- 
 lous, that they recovered although they were given 
 over ; whereas they might with more Eeason have said, 
 they recovered because they were given over. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 JElIU^tOn. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Some there be, that Shadows kiss ; 
 Such have but a shadow's bhss. 
 
 EmaSC of T)fe dTatljCr. — SMJcespeare. 
 
 Behoid, my Lords, 
 Although the print be httle, 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 Smil'es! 
 The very mould and frame of Hand, Nail, Finger. 
 
 imaginattmt. — ShaJcespeare, 
 
 THE lunatic, the lover, and the poet, 
 Are of Imagination all compact : 
 One sees more devils than vast HeU can hold ; 
 The Madman. While tjie lover, all as frantic, 
 Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. 
 Tlie poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
 Doth glance from Heaven to Earth, from Earth to Heav'ii; 
 And as Imagination bodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
 Tm-ns them to shape, and gives to airy notliing 
 A local habitation and a name. 
 Such tricks hath strong Imagiaation, 
 That if he would but apprehend some joy, 
 It comprehends some brmger of that joy ; 
 Or in the night imagining some fear, 
 How easy is a Bush suppos'd a Bear? 
 
 Emagtuattntt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 DANGrEROlJS Conceits are, in then- natures, poisons, 
 Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste, 
 But, with a little act upon the Blood, 
 Burn like the mines of sulphm*. 
 
 imafltnatinn. — Rogers. 
 
 Do what he will, he cannot reahse 
 Half he conceives— the glorious Vision flies, 
 Gro where he may, he cannot hope to find 
 The Truth, the Beauty pictured in liis mind. 
 
 EniaSttxatlOJt. — Burton. 
 
 A CONTENTED citizen of MHan, who had neveT 
 passed beyond its walls during the course of sixty 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 241 
 
 years, being ordered by the Q-overnor not to stir beyond 
 its gates, became immediately miserable, and felt so 
 powerful an inchnation to do that which he had so long 
 contentedly neglected, that, on his application for a release 
 from tliis restraint being refused, he became quite melan- 
 choly, and at last died of Grief. The pains of imprison- 
 ment 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 ? 
 
 imttatton. — CoUon. 
 Imitation is the sincerest of Flattery. 
 Smttation. — Colton. 
 
 THE secret of some men's Attractions might be safely 
 told to all the world, for under any other manage- 
 ment 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. | 
 
 3Emttatt0n. — Shakespeare. j 
 
 IT is certain that either wise bearing, or ignorant car- j 
 riage, is caught, as men take Diseases, one of another : 
 therefore, let men take heed of their Company. 
 
 imttatton. — Lavater. 
 
 HE 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. 
 
 JEmttattOIt. — Greville. 
 
 IHAEDLT know so true a mark of a little Mind, as 
 the servile Imitation of others. 
 
 StnmOrtalttB. — Young. 
 
 Stiil 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. 
 
 3Emm0rtaItta. — Young. 
 
 Can it be? 
 Matter immortal ? and shall Spirit die ? 
 Above the nobler, shall less noble rise ? 
 Shah. Man alone, for whom all else revives, 
 No resurrection know ? shall Man alone, 
 Imperial Man ! be sown in barren groimd, 
 Less privileged than grain, on wliich he feeds ? 
 
ILLTJSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 Emjp^rtmentt. — Lavater. 
 
 EECEIVE no satisfaction foi' premeditated Imperti- 
 nence ; forget it, forgive it, but keep him inexorably 
 at a distance who oifered it. 
 
 Smjprflfiemettt. — Colton. 
 
 WHEEE we cannot invent, we may at least improve : 
 we may give somewhat of Novelty to that which 
 was old. Condensation to that wldch was diffuse, Per- 
 spicuity to that which was obscure, and Cm-rency to that 
 wliich was recondite. 
 
 imjpuI^K. — Sare. 
 
 SINCE the^enerahty of persons act from Impulse, mxich 
 more than from Principle, men are neither so good nor 
 so bad as we are apt to think them. 
 
 3Ent0U^i^tenc3i. — Anon. 
 
 AMONG- the numberless Contradictions in our nature, 
 hardly any is more glaring than this, between our 
 sensitiveness to the shghtest Disgrace which we fancy cast 
 upon us from without, and our callousness to the Filth 
 within ourselves. In truth they who are the most sensitiye j 
 to the one, are often the most callous to the other. 
 
 3Elt5j0J301tif«nce. — Smollett. 
 
 THY spirit, Independence, let me share ! 
 Lord of the lion heart and eagle eye, 
 Thy steps I foUow 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 stibhme 
 Hath bleach' d the Tyrant's cheek in every vailing clime. 
 
 $n^^^J)^ll^f^^te. — Seimelmain. 
 
 BE and continue poor, young man, while others aroiuid 
 you grow rich by fraud and disloyalty ; be without 
 place or Power, wliile others beg then" way upward ; bear 
 the pain of disappointed Hopes, while others gain the 
 accomphshment of theirs by flattery ; forego the gracious 
 pressure of the hand for which others cringe and crawl. 
 Wrap yourselves in yom- own Virtue, and seek a Friend 
 and yom- daily bread. If you have in such a course grown 
 grey with unblenched Honour, bless God, and die. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 243 
 
 Sn^fcpnt^f^^a;. — Cowper. 
 
 IPEAISE you much, ye meek and patient pair, 
 For ye are worthy ; 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 Enaves ia ofEce. 
 
 EnUCjpBlttfgnr^. — Anon. 
 
 THE King is the least independent man in his dominions, 
 — the Beggar the most so. 
 
 Sntft^crcttOn. — La Bruyire. 
 
 THE generality of men expend the early part of their 
 hves ia contributing to render the latter part miserable. 
 
 ilttft^CrctlOU. — Addison. 
 
 AN Indiscreet Man is more hurtful than an ill-natured 
 one ; for as the latter will only attack his Enemies, 
 and those he wishes Ul to, the other injiires indifferently 
 both Friends and Foes. 
 
 Sniltbllfualtta. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 IN the very lowest link in the vast and mysterious chain 
 of Being, there is an effort, although scarcely apparent, 
 at Individuahsation ; but it is almost lost in the mere 
 Natiu-e. A httle higher up, the Individual is apparent 
 and separate, but subordinate to anything 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 desu'es which only remain in our most perfect 
 state on Earth as means of the higher powers acting. 
 
 Illiftl^trg. — Franklin. 
 
 THE way to Wealth is as plain as the way to Market. 
 It depends chiefly on two words, Industry and Fru- 
 gahty : that is, waste neither Time nor Money, but make 
 the best use of both. Without Industry and Frugality 
 nothing wiU do, and with them every thing. 
 
 SnifU^trg. — FranUin. 
 
 SLOTH makes all things difficult, but Industry aU 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. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 iltiltt^trjJ. — Colton. 
 
 HE that from small beginnings has deservedly raised | 
 himself to the highest Stations, may not always find 
 that faU satisfaction in the possession of his object, that j 
 he anticipated in the pursuit of it. But although the 
 individual may be disappointed, the community are bene- 
 fited, first, by his exertions, and, secondly, by his example; 
 for, it has been well observed, that the pubhc are served 
 not by what the Lord Mayor feels who rides in liis coach, 
 but by what the Apprentice Boy feels who looks at Mm. 
 
 ^nzbxltty;. — Prior. 
 
 IDEANK ; I hk'd 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. 
 
 ^ncy^txittXCt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE untainted Virtue of your years 
 Hath not yet div'd into the World's deceit : 
 Nor more can you distinguish of a man 
 Than of his outward show, which, God he knows, 
 Seldom or never jumpeth with the Heart. 
 
 ^lXZ}:^ttXtnCt. — Anon. 
 
 THOUSANDS of the brave, the gifted, and the beauti- 
 ful, have waked from dreams of juvenile Idolatry, 
 amid the cold realities of every day hfe, and loathed the 
 long remnant of a scarce buddmg existence, for the rash 
 vows of its opening dawn. The world is peopled with 
 such mourners, and if ia time the cloak of Indifierence, or 
 the mantle of Eesignation, or the pall of Despair, shroud 
 it from the world's unfeehng gaze, the broken heart is not 
 the less surely there. 
 
 InferttOtl. — Shalcesfeare. 
 How oft the sight of Means to do ill Deeds, 
 Makes Deeds ill done ! 
 
 JEttfOJCltt^. — Shakespeare. 
 I SHOULD make very forges of my cheeks, 
 That would to ciaders bum up Modesty, 
 Did I but speak thy Deeds. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 2+5 
 
 EnfiiftUtg. — SJialcesjpeare. 
 She's gone ; I am abus'd ; and my relief 
 Must be — to loathe her. 
 
 Eufitfclitg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Sttch an act, 
 That bliirs the grace and blush of Modesty : 
 Calls Vii-tue Hypocrite : takes off the rose 
 SVom the fan- forehead of an innocent love, 
 And sets a bhster there : makes mai-riage vows 
 As false as dicer's oaths ; O, such a deed, 
 As from the body of Contraction plucks 
 The very soul ; and sweet Eehgion, makes 
 A rhapsody of words. 
 
 iuJttfEltt}). — Moore. 
 
 OH ! colder than the Wind that freezes 
 Founts that but now in sunshine play'd, 
 Is that congealmg Pang which seizes 
 The trusting Bosom when betray' d. 
 
 JEnfitf^lttg. — Shalcespeare. 
 O THOTJ Weed, 
 Who art so lovely fair, and smeU'st so sweet. 
 That the sense aches at thee, — Would, thou had'st ne'er 
 been born ! 
 
 injjratltulfC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Then burst his mighty Heart : 
 And, in his mantle muffling up his face. 
 Even at the base of Pompey's statue. 
 Which aU the while ran blood, great Caesar feU. 
 
 3Enfl:ratttutrc. — Shakespeare. 
 
 She hath tied 
 Sharp-tooth' d Unkiadness, like a vulture, here. 
 
 EtlgratttuifC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 INGRATITUDE is monstrous ; and for the multitude 
 to be ingratcful, were to make a Monster of the Multi- 
 tude. 
 
 intjratttutfC. — Butler. 
 
 THAT he alone is ungrateful, who makes returns of 
 Obhgations, because he does it merely to free himself 
 from owing so much as Thanks. 
 
246 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTH: 
 
 3E^grat^tu^fe. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 I HATE Ingratitude more in a man, 
 Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, 
 Or any taint of Vice, whose strong corruption 
 Inhabits our frail Blood. 
 
 B' 
 
 intJfatltutfC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 )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. 
 
 iugratttttU^. — Anon. 
 
 THOUGH Ingratitude is too frequent in the most of 
 those who are obhged, yet Encom-agement wUi work 
 on generous minds; and if the experiment be lest 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. 
 
 JEttflratttllife. — From the Italian. 
 
 THE animal with long ears, after having drimk, gives a 
 kick to the bucket. 
 
 3Enijratttu5je. — Ausonius. 
 
 NOTHING- more detestable does the Earth produce 
 than an Ungrateful Man. 
 
 Engratthtlrg. — La RocTiefoucauU. 
 
 WE seldom find people ungrateful as long as we are in 
 a condition to render them Services. 
 
 3Ensratttu5e. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 'Tis a common proof, 
 That Lowliness is young Ambition's ladder, 
 Whereto the climber upward turns his face ; 
 But when he once attains the utmost round. 
 He then unto the Ladder turns his back, 
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
 By which he did ascend. 
 
 ingratttuirc. — From the Latin, 
 
 IE you say he is Ungrateful, you can impute to him no 
 more detestable act. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 247 
 
 Sltgratttutf^. — Shakespeare. 
 Ingeatitude ! thou marble-hearted Fiend, 
 More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child, 
 Than the Sea Monster ! 
 
 JEugratitxiUC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TIME hath a wallet at his back _ 
 Wherein he puts ahns for Obhyion, 
 A great-sized monster of Ingratitudes ; 
 Those scraps are good deeds past; which are deTOur'd 
 As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
 As done. 
 
 JEngratltutrc. — jPuhlius Syrius. 
 
 ONE Ungrateful Man does an Injmy to all who stand 
 in need of aid. 
 
 Entjratltutfe. — Shakespeare. 
 The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long. 
 That it had its head bit off by its young. 
 
 SltJUX'tE^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 MEN are not only prone to lose the Eemembrance 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 recom- 
 pense Good and avenge Evil appears to them a slavery, 
 to which they feel it difficult to submit. 
 
 ^\\\\XXiti. — Fuller. 
 Slisht small Injuries, and they'll become none at all. 
 £;£lf=5n^ttrg. — Johnson. 
 
 A MAN should be careful never to teU tales of himself 
 to his own disadvantage ; people maybe amused, and 
 laugh at the time, but they will be remembered, and 
 brought up against him upon some subsequent occasion. 
 ^elf==En}Urp. — Shakespeare. 
 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 con- 
 trives against his own Nobihty, in his proper Stream 
 o'ertlows himself. 
 
 JmtntenCJ. — From the French. 
 Innocence and Mysteriousness never dwell long together. 
 
248 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTS; 
 
 3Enn0cgn«. — JSlovalis. 
 
 INNOCENCE and Ignorance are sisters. But there 
 are noble and vulgar sisters. Vulgar Innocence and 
 Ignorance are mortal, they have pretty faces, but wliolly 
 •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 dvi^ell in Heaven, and visit only the 
 noblest and most severely tried of Mankind. 
 
 JEmtnceitCB. — Horace. 
 
 Tetie, conscious Honour, is to feel no sin ; 
 He's arm'd without that's innocent within : 
 Be this thy screen, and this thy waU. of brass. 
 
 JltruJCintCC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 Emt0CCntt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TJnstain'd thoughts do seldom, dream on Evil ; 
 Birds never hmed no secret Bushes fear, 
 
 imTomice, — Milton. 
 
 SO dear to Heaven is saintly Chastity, 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 A thousand Hv'ry'd angels lacquey her, 
 Driving far oif each thing of Sin and GuUt. 
 
 Sn^aitttg. — Shakespeare. 
 Oh, what a noble Mind is here o'ertln-own! 
 The Courtier's, Soldier's, Scholar's, eye, tongue, sword 
 Th' expectancy and rose of the fan' State, 
 The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, 
 Th' observ'd of aU observers, quite, quite down! 
 I am of ladies most deject and wretched, 
 That suck'd the honey of Ihs 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 ecstacy. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 249 
 
 Ell^aitity. — Shakespeare. 
 niHEUE is a willow grows ascaunt the brook, 
 _L That shows his hoar leases in the glassy stream ; 
 Therewith fantastic G-arlands 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 of weeds 
 Clambering to hang, an envious shver broke ; 
 When down her weedy trophies, and herself, 
 Fell in the weeping Brook. Her clothes spread wide ; 
 And, Mermaid-like, awhile 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, 
 Pull'd the poor Wretch from her melodious lay 
 To muddy Death. 
 
 SEllS'axiltl). — Shakespeare. 
 
 He was met even now 
 As mad as the vex'd Sea : singing aloud ! 
 Drown' d with rank fumiter, and furrow weeds. 
 With harlocks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, 
 Darnel, and all the idle weeds, that grow 
 Id our sustaining Com. 
 
 ^Clf=3En^J3CCti0n. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THY G-lass 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 may'st thou taste. 
 The wi-inkles which thy Glass will truly show, 
 Of mouthed graves will give thee memory ; 
 Thou by thy Dial's shady stealth may'st know 
 Tune's thievish progress to Eternity. 
 Look, what thy memory cannot contain, 
 Commit to these waste Blanks, and thou shalt find 
 Those clnldren nui-s'd, dehver'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. 
 
ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Sn^jptl'atlOn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OUE 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, fhes 
 Each bound it chafes. 
 
 itt^jptrattUn. — Oreville. 
 
 A LIVELY and agreeable man has not only the merit 
 of Liveliness and Agreeableness himself, but that also 
 of awakening them in others. 
 
 Eu^XlIt^. — Colton. 
 
 INJUEIES accompanied with Insults are never forgiven: 
 all men, on these oocasions, are good haters, and lay 
 out their Eevenge at compound interest. 
 
 SnteHect. — La Bruyere. 
 
 IT is a proof of Mediocrity of Intellect to be addicted to 
 relating stories. 
 
 EnteHgct. — Colton. 
 
 TIMES of general Calamity and Confasion have ever 
 been productive of the greatest Minds. The purest 
 ore is produced from the hottest Furnace, and the brightest 
 thimderbolt is ehcited from the darkest Storm. 
 
 %tdXmi^. — Byron. 
 
 HER 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. 
 
 HJcalOtl^g. — Slialcespeare. 
 O BBWAEE of Jealousy ; 
 It is the green-eyed Monster, which doth mock 
 The meat it feeds on. 
 
 gJtalCttSg. — STiakes-peare. 
 
 THESE are the forgeries of Jealousy : 
 And never, smce the middle summer's spring, 
 Met we on hOl, in dales, forest, or mead, 
 By paved foxintain, or by rushy brook, 
 Or on the beached ni argent of the Sea, 
 To dance our ringlets to the whisthng wind, 
 Eut with thy Brawls thou hast distm-bed our sport. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. zsi 
 
 3S£al0US"j). — Rannah More. 
 
 O Jealottst, 
 
 Thou ugliest Fiend of Hell ! tliy deadly venom 
 Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue 
 Of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, 
 And drinks my Spirit up ! 
 
 gcalOttSJ). — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 THAT anxious Torture may I never feel, 
 Wliich, 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 easUy transferr'd can leam to rove : 
 No, dearest Cupid ! when I feel thy dart. 
 For thy sweet Psyche's sake may no false Love 
 The tenderness I prize hghtly from me remove ! 
 
 S5i;al0US"g. — Shalcespeare. 
 O, HOW hast thou with Jealousy infected 
 The Sweetness of af&ance ! 
 
 ^galOU^a. — Thomson. 
 
 Btit through the heart 
 &;hould Jealousy its venom once difluse, 
 'Tis then dehghtful Misery no more, 
 But agony tmmix'd, incessant gall, 
 Corroding every thought, and blasting all 
 Love's Paradise. Ye fahy prospects then, 
 Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, 
 Farewell ! ye gleamings of departed peace. 
 Shine out your last ! the yeUow tinging Plague 
 Internal vision taints, and in a night 
 Of hvid gloom Imagination wraps. 
 
 SJcalflU^g. — Spenser. 
 
 NE ever is he wont on ought to feed 
 But todes and frogs (liis pasture poysonous), 
 Which in his cold Complexion doe breed ^ 
 A filthy blood, or humour rancorous. 
 Matter of Doubt and dread suspitious, 
 That doth with cui-eless care consume the Hart, 
 Corrupts the stomacke with gah vitious, 
 Cross-cuts the hver with eternall Smart, 
 And doth transfixe the soule with Death's eternall dart. 
 
2 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 S)0alnil^g. — La Seine de Navarre. 
 
 IT is said tliat Jealousy is Lore, but I deny it; for 
 though Jealousy be prooiu-ed by Love, as Ashes are by 
 Fire, yet Jealousy extinguishes Love as Ashes smother the 
 Mame. 
 
 g^^alOtt^J). — La BocTiefoucauld. 
 lis Jealousy there is more self-love than Love. 
 
 SJtalOlt^g. — Shakespeare. 
 O, WHAT damned Minutes tells he o'er, 
 Who dotes, yet doubts ; suspects, yet strongly loves ! 
 
 gijalOtt^g. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Teiples, Hght as air, 
 Are, to the Jealous, Confirmations strong 
 As proofs of Holy Writ. 
 
 gJealDU^g. — Spenser. 
 
 YET is there one more cursed than they aU, 
 That Canker-worm, that Monster, Jealousie, 
 Which eats the heart and feeds upon the gall, 
 Turning all Love's dehght to misery, 
 Through fear of losing his fehcity. 
 Ah, Gods ! that ever ye that Monster placed 
 In gentle love, that all his joys defaced! 
 
 gjcalOtt^g. — Sir Thomas Overlury. 
 A JEAiOTJS Man sleeps dog sleep. 
 
 S50al0U^2. — Spenser. 
 
 FOWLE Jealousie ! that tumest love divine 
 To joyless dread, and mak'st the loving Hart 
 With hateful thoughts to languish and to pine, 
 And feed itselfe with selfe- consuming Smart : 
 Of all the Passions in the mind thou vilest art. 
 
 ^ZitU. — Sorace. 
 ToNDEE he drives — avoid that furious beast : 
 If he may have his Jest, he never cares 
 At whose expense ; nor Friend nor patron spares. 
 
 getting. — Fuller. 
 
 TAKE 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 253 
 
 S^C^ttng. — Sheridan. 
 
 TO smile at the Jest which plants a thorn in another s 
 breast, is to become a principal in the Mischief. 
 
 gJn&Ulfl, — La Bruykre. 
 
 NEYER rist a Joke, even the least offensive in its nature 
 and the most common, vrith a person who i& not well 
 bred, and possessed with sense to comprehend it. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 Jot had the like conception in our eyes, 
 And, at that instant, hke a Babe sprung up. 
 
 3J0g, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THE night of Sorrow now is tum'd to day ; 
 Her two blue windows faintly she up-hear^th, 
 Like the fair Sun, when in his fresh array 
 He cheers the mom, and all the world reheveth : 
 And as the bright Sun glorifies the sky, 
 So is her face illumin'd with her Eye. 
 
 g^OjI. — Shakespeare. 
 Ton have bereft me of all words, 
 Only my Blood speaks to you in my veins ; 
 And there is such confusion in my pow'rs, 
 As, after some oration fahly 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. 
 
 SiOg* — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 GIYB me a gash, put me to present Pain ; 
 Lest this great sea of Joys rushing upon me, 
 O'erbear the shores of my Moi-tahty, 
 And drown me vsith their Sweetness. 
 
 — Tounff. 
 
 NATTJEE, in zeal for human amity, 
 Denies, or damps, an undivided Joy. 
 Joy is an import ; Joy is an exchange ; 
 Joy flies monopohsts : it calls for two ; 
 Eich Fruit ! Heav'n planted ! never pluck't by one. 
 
2 5+ ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTR; 
 
 S5ttlfC[lU3 S&)Zti, — Oreville. 
 
 HE 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 
 coi-poreal Eye, the object may be placed too near the Sight 
 to be seen truly, as -well as so far oif j nay, too near to be 
 seen at all. 
 
 giUtfflment. — Shakesfeare. 
 
 Men's Judgments are 
 A parcel of their Fortunes ; and things outward 
 Do draw the inward Quahty after them, 
 To suifer all ahke. 
 
 giUifsmnxt. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 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 quahty, is cried up 
 For our best Act. 
 
 gJltlfgnTent. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE are mistaken in stipposing that Intellect and Judg- 
 ment are two different things. Judgment is merely 
 the Grreatness of the Light of the Mind : this Light pene- 
 trates into the recesses of things ; it observes there eveiy 
 thing remarkable, and perceives what appears to be im- 
 l)erceptible. Thus it must be allowed that it is the 
 Grreatness of the Light of the Mind which produces all 
 the effects attributed to Judgment. 
 
 SiiittfSin«nt. — Swift. 
 
 INVENTION is the talent of youth, and Judgment of 
 age : so that our Judgment grows harder to please, 
 when we have fewer things to ofier it : this goes through 
 the whole commerce of Life. When we are old, our 
 ft'iends find it difBcult to please us, and are less concerned 
 whether we be pleased or not. 
 
 SJuUgmcnt. — 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 qualiflca- 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 255 
 
 tions whatsoeTer, as one that can see woiild liaTO over 
 a blind man of ten times his strength. 
 
 S^lt^tlft. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Poise the cause in Justice' equal scales, 
 
 Whose Beam stands sm-e, whose rightful cause prevails. 
 
 Siustice. — Colton. 
 
 CIRNEADES, whom Cicero so much dreaded, main- 
 tained 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 imprudently ; 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 Vu-tue inseparable from a Tolly cannot be just. 
 Lactantius is correct when he aftlrms 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 pohcy ; " and it is 
 resei-ved for Christians, who take into then- consideration 
 the whole existence of man, to argue clearly and con- 
 sequentially on the sterling value of Justice. It is well 
 known that Hume himself 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 liis own principles, or from those who conscif^n- 
 tiously beheve the eternal Truths of Eevelation. He 
 frankly decided in favour of the latter ! 
 
 SJtt^ttce. — Colton. 
 
 IF 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." 
 %\l^titt. — Cicero. 
 
 JUSTICE consists in doing no injury to men ; Decency, 
 in giving them no offence. 
 
 SJu^ttce. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 JUSTICE is in general only a lively apprehension of 
 being deprived of what belongs to us : hence arise 
 our great consideration and respect for all the interests of 
 
256 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 oiir Neighbour, and our scrupvilous care to avoid doing | 
 Mm an injm-y. This fear retains men within the hmits ! 
 of those advantages which Bhth or Fortune has given ' 
 them ; and witliout it, tliey would be making continual 
 Inroads upon others. 
 
 %i\\iSl\ti^> — Joanna Baillie. 
 A wiiiiiNG- Heart adds feather to the heel. 
 And makes the clown a winged Mercury. 
 
 Cl^e l^tns. — Shalcespeare. 
 Theee is such divinity doth hedge a King, 
 That Treason can but peep to what it would, 
 Acts httle of his will. 
 
 Itmglj) Care. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 OPOLISH'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. O Majesty ! 
 When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit 
 Like a rich Armour, worn in heat of day, 
 That scalds with safety. 
 
 StnOtofelfge. — Fuller. 
 He that sips of many Arts, drinks of none. 
 
 I^JlOtolcifS^. — Bishop Sprat. 
 jrrilS the property of all true Knowledge, especially 
 JL spiritual, to enlarge the Soul by fiUing it ; to enlarge 
 it without sweUing it ; to make it more capable, and more 
 earnest to know, the more it knows. 
 
 I^nfltoleif^e. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Deep subtlp 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 SkiU to use them. 
 
 l^nfliDletfgE. — Lavater. 
 
 THREE days of ijninterrupted Company in a veliicle 
 will make you better acquainted with another, than 
 one hour's Conversation with him every day for three years. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 257 
 
 llU0^nI^^f3E. — Colton. 
 
 MAN, if lie 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 Nadu' of 
 Weakness. 
 
 3S«0fct)felfCIJ. — Colton. 
 
 THAT is indeed a twofold Knowledge, which profits 
 alike by the FoUy of the foolish, and the Wisdom of 
 the wise. It is both a shield and a sword ; it borrows 
 its Secmify from the darkness, and its Confidence from 
 the Ught. 
 
 |^uab3l«5j|JC. — Cowper. 
 TTNOWLEDG-E and Wisdom, far from being one. 
 
 In heads replete with Thoughts of other men, 
 Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. 
 
 I Unotofelfflc. — Colton. 
 
 THE profoundly wise do not declaim against superficial 
 Knowledge in others, so much as the profoundly 
 ignorant ; on the contrary, they would rather assist it 
 with their Advice than overwhelm 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 httle 
 Knowledge is far more likely to get more than he that has 
 none. 
 
 itlWftDleirge. — Milton. 
 
 Not to know at large of things remote 
 Erom use, obscm-e and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us Hes 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, unprepar'd, and stiU to seek. 
 
 %\\a.'isiitiS^t. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MEN'S faults do seldom to themselves appear. 
 Their own Transgressions partially they smother : 
 0 ! how are they wrapt in with infamies, 
 That from their own Misdeeds askance their eyes ! 
 
 Knowledge dwells 
 
 f^lUftDtetffl^. — Colton. 
 
 TO despise our species, is the price we must too often 
 pay for our Knowledge of it. 
 
 4 
 
7. 5 8 ILL USTEA TIONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 HjtOtofetfflC. — Byron. 
 
 Knowiedge is not Happiness, and Science 
 But an excliange of Ignorance for that 
 Which is another kind of Ignorance. 
 
 %naia\t'ii%t. — Butler. 
 He knew what's what, and that's as high 
 As metaphysic Wit can fly. 
 
 l^ttCllMldJge. — Moore. 
 
 THE wish to know — that endless Thirst, 
 Which ey'n by qtienching is awak'd, 
 And which becomes or blest or curst, 
 
 As is the Fount whereat 'tis slak'd — 
 Still lu-g'd me onward, with Desire 
 Insatiate, to explore, inquire. 
 
 ISnOtDlelffle. — Colton. 
 
 EVEN human Knowledge is permitted to approximate 
 in some degree, and on certain occasions, to that of 
 the Deity, its pm-e and primary source ; and this as- 
 similation is never more conspicuous than when it converts 
 evil into the means of producing its opposite good. 
 
 5anOiBfelfS«. — Spenser. 
 Base minded they that want Intelligence ; 
 For Grod himself for Wisdom most is prais'd, 
 And men to God thereby are nighest rais'd. 
 
 itnflJDigtrfle. — Milton. 
 
 Knowiedge is as food, and needs no less 
 Her temp'rance, over appetite to know 
 In measm-e what the mind may well contain. ; 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 Wisdom to Folly. 
 
 JLaliOttt. — La EocJiefoucauld. 
 
 BODILY Labour alleviates the pains of the Mind ; and 
 hence arises the Happiness of the poor. 
 
 3lall0Ur. — Cowper. 
 
 COME 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, 
 JBxit soften'd into Mercy ; made the pledge 
 Of cheerful Days, and isTights without a groaju 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 259 
 
 3Laii0ur. — Anon. 
 
 THE pernicious, debilitating tendencies of bodily Plea- 
 sui-e need to be counteracted by the invigorating 
 exercises of bodily Labour; whereas bodily Lab o\ir without 
 bodQy Pleasure converts the body into a mere machiae, 
 and brutifies the Soul. 
 
 Haitciuacie. — Niebuhr. 
 
 THE vtriter, or even the student, of History, ought, if 
 possible, to know aU nations in their own Tongue. 
 Languages have one inscrutable origin — as have aU national 
 peculiarities, — and he has but an imperfect knowledge of 
 a people who does not know their Language. 
 
 Hausuaflc. — CMow. 
 
 THE study of Languages has given a character to 
 modern mmds, 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 nothmg 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 tilings of which words are but the 
 symbols ; and tends to promote qmckness and depth of 
 Apprehension. A good Linguist is always a man of con- 
 siderable aeuteness, and often of pre-eminent taste. 
 
 ILaitgttaflt. — Anon. 
 
 ESCHEW fine Words, as you would rouge : love simple 
 ones, as you would native Eoses on yom- cheeks. 
 Act as you might be disposed to do on your estate: 
 employ such Words as have the largest famUies, keep 
 clear of Foundhngs, and of those of wliich nobody can 
 tell whence they come, vmless he happens to be a scholar. 
 %ms^ta:* — GrevUle. 
 
 MAN is the only creature endowed with the power of 
 Laughter ; is he not also the only one that deserves 
 to be laughed at ? 
 
 %m^\£X. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
 OUE comedians tliink there is no Dehght without 
 Laughter, which is very wrong ; for though Laughter 
 may come with Dehght, yet cometh it not of Dehght, as 
 though Dehght should be the cause of Laughter ; but 
 weU may one thing breed two together. 
 
26o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Uanguafle. — Coleridge. 
 SuBiiMiTT is Hebrew by bii'th. 
 
 !La6) of |!9e&^l0j]nTent. — Colton. 
 
 THE light of other minds is as necessary to the play 
 and the Development of Grenius, as the light of other 
 bodies is to the play and radiation of the Diamond. A 
 Diamond, incarcerated in its subterraneous prison, rough 
 and unpohshed, differs not fi-om a common stone ; and a 
 Newton or a Shakespeare, deprived of kindred miads, and 
 iDorn amongst savages — Savages had died. 
 
 JCcarUtUfl. — Chesterfield. i 
 
 AMAIf of the best parts and greatest Learning, if he 1 
 does not know the world by his own experience and • 
 observation, wiU be very absurd, and consequently very 
 unwelcome ia Company. He may say very good things ; I 
 but they wiU be probably so ill-titned, misplaced, or i 
 improperly addressed, that he had much better hold his 
 tongue. 
 
 JLearntng. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 WHO can tell whether Learning may not even weaken 
 Invention, in a man that has great advantages irom 
 nature and birth ; whether the weight and number of so ', 
 many men's thoughts and notions may not suppress his i 
 own, or hinder the motion and agitation of them, horn ! 
 which all Invention arises ; as heaping on wood, or too } 
 many sticks, or too close together, suppresses, and some- i 
 times quite extinguishes a little Spark, that would other* | 
 wise have grown up to a noble Plame. ■ 
 
 itearntns. — Tomg. [ 
 ToTTE Learning, hke the lunar beam, affords 
 Light but not heat ; it leaves you undevout, 
 Trozen at heart, while Speculation shines. 
 
 Hcarnms. — Milton. 
 
 mllE end of Learning is to know God, and out of tha* 
 JL knowledge to love liim, and to imitate him, as we may 
 the nearest, by possessing our souls of true Vhtue. 
 
 Hearntng. — Selden. 
 
 NO 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 261 
 
 H 
 
 %tnx\\m%. — Steele. 
 E 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. 
 
 Eearntng. — Bishop Taylor. 
 To be proud of Learning is the greatest Ignorance. 
 %tiiXiXt. — Johnson. 
 
 YOU cannot give an instance of any man, who is per- 
 mitted to lay out his own Tune, contriving not to 
 have tedious Hours. 
 
 Hewttg. — QoetTie. 
 
 IT is only necessary to grow old to become more in- 
 dulgent. I see no Fault committed that I have not 
 committed myself. 
 
 UntttjJ. — Shakespeare. 
 HEN Lenity and Cruelty play for a kingdom, the 
 gentler gamester is the soonest winner. 
 JL^&tty. — Seneca. 
 
 LEVITY of Behaviour is the bane of aU that is good 
 and virtuous. 
 
 3Ltar. — Shakespeare. 
 Past all shame, so past all Truth. 
 
 W()t 3L{ar. — Murphy. 
 
 None but Cowards he. 
 HtScralttt). — La Bruyere. 
 
 LIBERALITY consists less in givuig profusely, than in 
 giving judiciously. 
 
 iCticfta. — Dryden. 
 The love of Liberty with hfe is given. 
 And life itself th' inferior gift of Heaven. 
 
 HaortlJ. — Byron. 
 So let them ease their Hearts with prate 
 Of equal rights, wliich man ne'er knew. 
 
 ElScrtt). — Byron. 
 Tee Wish— wliich ages have not yet subdued 
 In Man — to have no master save liis mood. 
 
262 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Hffi^rtj). — Addison. 
 
 OH, Liberty, thou goddess, heavenly bright. 
 Profuse of bhss, and pregnant with dehght ! 
 Eternal Pleasures in thy presence reign, 
 And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train ; 
 Eas'd of her load Subjection grows morehght, 
 And poverty looks cheerful in thy sight ; 
 Thou mak'st the gloomy face of Nature gay, 
 Griv'st Beauty to the sun, and Pleasure to the day. 
 Utiicrtj). — Byron. 
 
 ETERNAL Spirit of the chainless mind ! 
 Brightest in dungeons, Liberty ! thou art, 
 Eor 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 eveiy wind. 
 
 Etliertg. — Byron. 
 5rplS vain — my tongue cannot impart 
 -L My almost drunkenness of Heart, 
 When first this hberated eye 
 Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun, and Sky, 
 As if my spirit pierc'd them tlirough, 
 And all their inmost wonders knew ! 
 One word alone can paiat to thee 
 That more than feeling — I was Eree ! 
 E'en for thy presence ceas'd to pine : 
 The World — nay — Heaven itself was mine. 
 JCtSertg. — Byron. 
 
 MOTION was in their days. Rest in their slumbers. 
 And Cheerfulness the handmaid of their toil ; 
 Nor yet too many nor too few theu' numbers ; 
 
 Corruption could not make their hearts her soU ; 
 The lust which stings, the Splendour which encumbers, 
 
 With the fi-ee foresters divide no spoil j 
 Serene, not suUen, were the SoHtudes 
 Of this unsighing people of the woods. 
 
 JCtfc. — Colton. 
 
 IF you would be known, and not know, vegetate in a 
 Village ; if you would know, and not be known, live 
 ! in a City. 
 
 i l 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 263 
 
 %iit. — La Bruyere. 
 
 THERE is a time whicli precedes Eeason, when, like 
 other animals, we hve by instinct alone ; of Avhich 
 the Memory retams no vestiges. There is a second term, 
 when Eeason discovers itself, when it is formed, and 
 might act, if it were not hoodwinked, as it were, and 
 manacled by vices of the Constitution, and a- cham of 
 Passions, which succeed one another, tUl the tliird and 
 last age: Eeason then being in its fuU force, naturally 
 should assert its Dignity, and control the appetites ; but 
 it is impau-ed and benumbed by years, sickness, and 
 pains, and shattered by the disorder of the declmmg 
 Machine; yet these years, with their several miperfec- 
 tions, constitute the Life of Man. 
 
 %\f,t> — Shakespeare, 
 
 ALL the world's a Stage, 
 And all the men and women merely Players ; 
 They have their Exits and their Entrances, 
 And one man in Ins time plays many parts : 
 His acts being seven ages. At first the Infant, 
 Mewhng and puking in the nurse's arms : 
 And then the whining School-boy, with liis satchel, 
 And shining morning face, creeping like snaU 
 UnwiUingly to school. And then the Lover ; 
 Sigliing hke Eumace, with a woful ballad 
 Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a Soldier ; 
 Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard. 
 Jealous in Honour, sudden and quick in quarrel ; 
 Seeking the bubble Eeputation 
 
 Even m the cannon's mouth. And then the Justice, 
 
 In fan- round belly, with good capon hn'd, 
 
 "With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
 
 EuU of wise saws and modern instances, 
 
 And so he plays his Part. The sixth age shifts 
 
 Into the lean and shpper'd Pantaloon, 
 
 With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side : 
 
 His youtliful hose well sav'd, a world too wide 
 
 For his shrunk Shank ; and his big manly voice, 
 
 Turning again towards childish treble, pipes, 
 
 And whistles in his sound. Last Scene of aU, 
 
 That ends this strange eventful History, 
 
 Is second Childishness, and mere obhvion, 
 
 Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 
 
264. ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 %,iit. — 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 miiltiply them by the senti- 
 ments of Superstition. 
 
 iLtfe. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 REASON thus with Life : A breath thou art, 
 (Servile to all the skiey infltiences,) 
 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 towards him still : Thoti art not noble; 
 For all the accommodations that thou bear'st 
 Are nurs'd by Baseness : Thou art by no means vahantj 
 For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 
 Of a poor worm : Thy best of rest is sleep, 
 And that thou oft provok'st. 
 
 Thou art not thyself ; 
 For thou exist' st on many a thousand grains 
 That issue out of Dust : Happy thou art not ; 
 For what tliou hast not, still thou striv'st to get ; 
 And what thou hast, forget' st : Thou art not certain; 
 For thy complexion sliifts to strange effects. 
 After the Moon : If thou art rich, thou art poor ; 
 For, hke an ass, whose back with ingots bows, 
 Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a Journey, 
 And Death unloads tliee : Friends hast thou none ; 
 For thme own bowels, which do call thee sire, 
 The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 
 Do curse the Gout, serpigo, and the rliemn, 
 For ending thee no sooner: Tlaou hast nor youth nor agej 
 But, as it were, an after- dinner's sleep. 
 Dreaming on both : for aU 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, hmb, nor beauty, 
 To make thy riches pleasant. Yet in this life 
 Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet Death we fear. 
 
 Ittfc. — Addison. 
 
 THE ready way to the right enjoyment of Hfe is, by a 
 prospect towards another, to have but a veiy mean 
 opinion of it. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 265 
 
 ILtfe. — Pope. 
 
 THE vanity of Human Life is like a Elver, constantly 
 passing away, and yet constantly coming on. 
 
 JCtfe, — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 thu-d 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. 
 
 JLtfe. — Prior. 
 
 A FLOWER that does with opening mom arise, 
 And, flourislihig 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 smmner sky ; 
 A Bowl ad own the bending Mountain roU'd ; 
 A Bubble breakmg, and a Fable told ; 
 A Noon-tide Shadow, and a Midnight Dream ; _ 
 Are emblems which, with semblance apt, proclaim 
 Our Earthly Course. 
 
 JCtfe. — La Bruyhre. 
 
 A MAN is tlurty years old before he has any settled 
 thoughts of his Fortune ; it is not completed before 
 fifty ; he falls a building in his old age, and dies by that 
 time his House is ia a condition to be painted and glazed. 
 
 %iiz, — Byron. 
 
 THERE stUl are many rainbows ia your sky. 
 But mine have vanish' d. All, when Life is new, 
 Commence with feehngs warm, and prospects high ; 
 But Tune strips our Illusions of their hue. 
 And one by one in turn, some grand mistake, 
 Casts ofi" its bright skin yearly hke the Snake. 
 
 %iit. — Moore. 
 
 FOR Time will come with all its Wights, 
 The ruia'd Hope— the friend unkind — 
 The love, that leaves, where'er it hghts, 
 A chiU'd or bm-ning Heart behind! 
 
a66 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 3Liit> — Goldsmith. 
 
 BUT me, not destin'd sucli delights to share, 
 My prime of hfe in wandering spent and care : 
 Impell'd, with steps unceasing, to pursue 
 Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view ; 
 That, hke the chcle bounding earth and skies, 
 Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; 
 My forttme leads to traverse realms alone, 
 And find no spot of all the world my own. 
 
 ILtfC. — La Bruyere. 
 
 IF you suppress the exorbitant love of Pleasure and 
 Money, idle Curiosity, iniquitous pursuits and wanton 
 Mnth, what a stillness would there be ia the greatest 
 Cities ! the necessaries of life do not occasion, at most, a 
 third part of the Hiu'ry. 
 
 lLtf0. — Byron. 
 
 AMBITION 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. 
 
 JLlfe. — La Bruyere. 
 
 IP 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 deprived of it : so that in either case the 
 result is the same, for we must exist in Anxiety and 
 Apprehension. 
 
 ILtfo. — Cowley. 
 
 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. 
 
 5£tf0. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 WILL Fortime never come with both hands fuU, 
 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 ricii. 
 That have abundance, and enioy it not. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 267 
 
 %iit, — Steele. 
 
 THERE is nothing wliich must end, to be valtied for its 
 continuance. 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 Honour and Vu'tue; 
 when he ceases to be such, he has hved 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 hfe's end. 
 
 ILlfe, — Beattie. 
 
 AH ! who can tell how hard it is to chmb 
 The steep where Fame's proud temple sliines afar ; 
 Ah ! who can tell how many a Soul subhme 
 Has felt the influence of mahgnant star, 
 And waged with Fortune an eternal War ; 
 Check'd by the scolf of Pride, by Envy's frown, 
 And Poverty's unconquerable bar, 
 In Life's low vale remote has pm'd alone, 
 Then dropt into the grave, tmpitied and unknown ! 
 
 ILtfc. — Shalcespeare. 
 So we'H hve. 
 And pray, and sing, and teU 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 Mysteiy 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 the Moon. 
 
 %iit. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 WHEN all is done, Human Life is, at the greatest and 
 best, but like a froward child, that must be played 
 with, and humom-ed a httle to keep it quiet, till it falls 
 asleep, and then the Care is over. 
 
 IL{f0. — Byron. 
 
 LOVE'S the first net which spreads its deadly mesh ; 
 Ambition, Avarice, Vengeance, Grlory, glue 
 The ghttering lime- twigs of om* latter days, 
 Where still we flutter on for pence or Praise. 
 
268 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTR ; 
 
 Jtife. — Byron. 
 
 BETWEEN two -worlds Life hovers lite a star, 
 'Twixt nigM and morn, npon the horizon's, verge. 
 How Httle do we know that which we are ! 
 
 How less what we may be ! The eternal surge 
 Of Time and Tide rolls on, and hears afar 
 
 Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, 
 Lash'd from the foam of ages ; while the Graves 
 Of Emphes heave but hke some passing waves. 
 
 %iit, — Steele. 
 
 IT is not perhaps much thought of, but it is certainly a 
 very important lesson, to learn how to enjoy ordinary 
 Life, and to he able to relish your being without the trans- 
 port of some Passion, or gratification of some Appetite. 
 For want of this capacity, the world is fiUed with whetters, 
 tipplers, cutters, sippers, and aU the numerous train of 
 tliose who, for want of thinking, are forced to be ever 
 exercising their feehng or tasting. 
 
 %\it. — Colton. 
 
 LIFE is the jailor of the sotiI in this filthy prison, and 
 its only dehverer is Death ; what we call Life is a 
 journey to Death, and what we call Death is a passport to 
 Life. Ti'ue wisdom thanks Death for what he takes, and 
 stiU more for what he brings. Let us then, hke sentinels, 
 be ready because we are uncertain, and cahn because -we 
 are prepared. There is nothing formidable about Death 
 but the consequences of it, and these we ourselves can 
 regidate 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. 
 
 ILtfC. — Byron. 
 
 ALAS ! such is our Nature ! aU but aim 
 At the same end by pathways not the same ; 
 Om" means, otir Birth, our nation, and om- name, 
 Our fortune, temper, even our outward frame, 
 Are far more potent o'er our yielding clay 
 Than aught we know beyond our httle day. 
 
 5Ltfe. — Sir W. Temple. 
 TTTE bring into the world with us a poor, needy, un- 
 VV certain Life, short at the longest, and unquiet at the 
 best : aU the imaginations of the witty and the wise have 
 been perpetuaUy busied to find out the ways how to revive 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 269 
 
 it witli Pleasures, or relieve it with Diversions ; how to 
 compose it with Ease, and settle it with Safety. To some 
 of these ends have heen employed the institutions of Law- 
 givers, the reasonings of Pliilosophers, the inventions cf 
 Poets, the pains of lahoui'ing, and the extravagances of 
 voluptuous men. All the world is perjjetually at work 
 about nothing else, hut 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. 
 
 %\it, — Sir FMUp Sidney. 
 
 YOUTH will never hve to Age, without they keep 
 themselves in breath with exercise, and in heart with 
 joyfuhiess. 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. 
 
 — Dryden. 
 
 SINCE every man who hves is born to die, 
 And none can boast sincere Eehcity, 
 With equal mind what happens let us bear. 
 Nor joy nor grieve too much for tilings beyond our care. 
 Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend ; 
 The World's an inn, and Death the journey's end- 
 
 3ilfe. — Prior. 
 
 WE Happiness pursue : we fly from pain ; 
 Yet the pursuit, and yet the flight is vain : 
 And, wlule poor Natm-e labours to be blest, 
 By day with Pleasure, and by night with rest. 
 Some stronger power eludes our sickly wiU, 
 Dashing our rising Hopes with certain ill ; 
 And makes us, with reflective trouble, see 
 That aU is destin'd, which we fancy free. 
 
 5Ltfe. — Dryden. 
 
 BUT ah ! how insincere are aU our joys ! 
 Which, sent fi'om Heaven, hke hghtning make no 
 stay ; 
 
 Their palling taste the Journey's length destroys. 
 Or Grief sent post o'ertakes them on the way. 
 
 %ilt. — Young. 
 
 Like some fair hum'rists. Life is most enjoy' d. 
 When courted least ; most worth, when disesteem'd. 
 
270 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 fi-tfc. — Spenser. 
 
 BUT wliat on earth can long abide in state ? 
 Or who can him assm-e of happy day ? 
 Sith morning fair may bring foul evening late, 
 And least mishap the most bhss alter may ? 
 For thousand perils he 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. 
 
 %iit, — CoUon. 
 
 SOCIETY is a sphere that demands aU our Energies, 
 and deserves all that it demands. He therefore that 
 retires to cells and to caverns, to Stripes and to Eamine 
 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. 
 
 iCtfC. — Spenser. 
 
 WHEN I beheld this fickle trustless state 
 Of vain world's glory, flitting to and fro, 
 And mortal men tossed by troublous Fate, 
 In restless seas of Wretchedness and Woe, 
 I vrish I might this weary Life forego, 
 And shortly turn unto my happy rest, 
 Where my free Spirit might not any more 
 Be vext with sights that do her peace molest. 
 
 iltfe. — Steele. 
 
 THE date of human Life is too short to recompense the 
 cares which attend the most private condition : there- 
 fore it is, that our Souls are made, as it were, too big for 
 it; and extend themselves in the prospect of a longer 
 Existence. 
 
 — Fope. 
 
 LOVE, Hope, and Joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train ; 
 Hate, Fear, and Grrief, the family of Pain ; 
 These, mixt with Ai-t, and to due bounds confin'd, 
 Make and maintain the balance of the Mind ; 
 The hghts and shades, whose weU-accorded strife 
 Gives all the strength and coloiir of our Life. 
 
on, THINGS NEW AND OLD. zji 
 
 Htfe. — Byron. 
 
 OLOVE ! O Glory ! what are ye? who fly 
 Around us ever, rarely to ahght : 
 There's not a Meteor in the polar Sky 
 
 Of such transcendent and more fleeting flight. 
 Chill, and chain' d to cold earth, we hft on high 
 
 Our eyes in search of either lovely light ; 
 A thousand and a thousand coloiu-s they 
 Assume, then leave us on our freezing way. 
 
 Ittfc. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 YOUR worm is your only Emperor for diet ; we fat all 
 creatm'cs else, to fat us ; and we fat ourselves for 
 Maggots : your fat King, and your lean Beggar, is but 
 variable sei-vice ; two dishes but to one table ; that's the 
 end. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a 
 King ; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that Worm. 
 
 Htfe. — Byron. 
 
 WE wither from our youth, we gasp away — 
 Sick — sick ; unfound the boon — unslak'd the thirst, 
 Though to the last, in verge of our decay. 
 Some Phantom lures, such as we thought at fii-st — 
 But all too late, — so we are doubly curst. 
 Love, Fame, Ambition, Avarice — 'tis the same, 
 Each idle — and all ill — and none the worst — 
 For aU are meteors with a dilFerent name, 
 And Death the sable smoke where vanishes the Flame. 
 
 %iiZ. — Byron. 
 
 WELL — ^well, the world must turn upon its axis, 
 And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, 
 And hve 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 om' life exhales : 
 A Httle Breath, Love, Wine, Ambition, Fame, 
 Fighting, Devotion, Dust, — perhaps a Name. 
 
 ILtfe. — S7iaTces]pea/re. 
 
 The time of Life is short : 
 To spend that shortness basely, were too long, 
 If Life did ride upon a dial's point, 
 StUl ending at the anival of an hour. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTR; 
 
 Ittfg. — Frior. 
 
 Thus we act ; atid thus we ai*e, 
 Oi' toss'd by Hope, or sunk by Care, 
 With endless pain tliis man pursues 
 What if he gain'd, he could not use : 
 And t'other fondly hopes to see 
 Wliat 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 fatdts we strive to liide. 
 
 ILtfe. — Spenser. 
 
 AND ye, fond men ! on Fortune's wheel that ride. 
 Or in ought under Heaven repose assm-ance. 
 Ee it Riches, Beauty, or Honour's pride, 
 Be s\ire that they shall have no long endurance, 
 But ere ye be aware wUl flit away ; 
 Por nought of them is yours, but only tli' usance 
 Of a small time, which none ascertain may. 
 
 Htfe. — SJialcesjpeare. 
 
 THAT time of year thou may'st in me behold. 
 When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang, 
 Upon those boughs wliich shake against the cold. 
 Bare ruin'd chou's, where late the sweet bu'ds 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 Yoiitli doth he ; 
 As the death-bed whei-eon it must expire, 
 Consimi'd with that which it was nourish' d by. 
 
 ILtfC. — Young. 
 
 WHY all this toil for triumphs of an hour ? 
 What tlio' 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. 
 
 Htfe. — Milton. 
 Nor love thy Hfe, nor hate ; but whilst thou liv'st 
 Live well ; how long, how short, permit to Heaven. 
 
y 
 
 OB, I RING 8 NEW AND OLD. 273 
 
 ittfe. — Young. 
 
 EEE man has measur'd half liis -weary Stage, 
 His luxm'ies have left liim no reserve, 
 No maiden relishes, no unbroacht dehghts ; 
 On cold-serv'd 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, 
 Wliich starve on orts, and glean their former field. 
 
 iCtfe. — Dryden. 
 
 WHEN I consider Life, 'tis all a cheat ; 
 Yet, fool'd with Hope men favour the deceit ; 
 Trust on, and think to-morrow wiU repay ; 
 To-moiTOw's falser than the former day ; 
 Lies worse, and, wliile it says, we shaU be blest 
 With some new Joys, cuts oif what we possest. 
 Strange cozenage! None M-ould live jjast years agiiiu, 
 Yet all hope Pleasm*e in what yet remain ; 
 And, from the dregs of life, tliink 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. 
 
 HtfC. — Byron. 
 
 GRIEF 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. 
 
 '^xit. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THEIE level hfe is but a mould'ring fire, 
 Unquench'd by Want, unfann'd by strong Desire ; 
 Unfit for raptm'es, 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 expii'e. 
 
 %itt. — Fuller. 
 
 HE hves long that Hves well ; and Time misspent, is not 
 Uved, but lost. Besides, God is better than his pro- 1 
 mise if he takes from him a long lease ; and gives him a 
 Freehold of a better value. 
 
 T 
 
274 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 JLlfe. — Burns. 
 
 O Life ! how pleasant is thy morning, 
 Young Fancy's rays the hOls adorning! 
 Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning, 
 
 We frisk away, 
 Like school-boys, at th' expected warning, 
 
 To joy and play. 
 "We wander there, we wander here, 
 We eye the Rose upon the brier, 
 Umnradful that the Thorn is near, 
 
 Among the leaves. 
 
 %ift, — Seneca. 
 
 IT is the bounty of JSTature that we hve, but of Philosophy 
 that we hve well ; which is, in truth, a greater benefit 
 than Life itself. 
 
 Htfe. — Young. 
 
 LIFE'S httle 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 deplor'd ; 
 Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot ! 
 
 ICtfC. — Thomson. 
 
 EYEN so luxurious men, unheeding, pass 
 An idle Summer-hfe in Fortune's shine, 
 A season's ghtter ! Thus they flutter on 
 From toy to toy, from Yanity to Yice ; 
 Tni, blown away by Death, Obhvion comes 
 Behind, and strikes them from the Book of Life. 
 
 ICtfe. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TO-MOREOW, 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 hghted 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 notliing. 
 
 1 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 275 
 
 %itt. — Young. 
 
 HOW must a spirit, lata escap'd from Earth, 
 The truth of tilings new-blazing in his eye, 
 Look back, astonish' d, on the ways of Men, 
 Whose Lives' whole drift is to forget their graves ! 
 
 %iiz, — Spenser. 
 
 OVAIN world's glory, and unstedfast state, 
 Of aU that hves on face of sinful Earth ! 
 Which from their first until their utmost date 
 Taste no one hour of Happiness or Mirth, 
 But hke as at the ingate of their birth. 
 They crying creep out of their mother's womb, 
 So waiHng back go to their woeful Tomb. 
 
 %itt. — Byron. 
 
 WE are fools of Time and Terror : days 
 Steal on us and steal from us ; yet we Hve, 
 Loathing oiir Life, and dreading still to die. 
 In all the days of this detested yoke — 
 This vital weight upon the strugghng 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. 
 
 ILlfC. — Byron. 
 
 Some, bow'd, and bent. 
 Wax grey and ghastly, withering ere then- tunc. 
 And perish with the reed on which they leant : 
 Some seek Devotion, Toil, War, Good, or Crime, 
 According as their Soids were form'd to sink or climb. 
 
 %itt, — Spenser. 
 
 AFTER long storms and tempests overblowne. 
 The Sunne at length his joyous face doth cleare ; 
 So when as Fortune all lier spight hath showne. 
 Some blissful hom-s at last must needes appeare ; 
 Else should afflicted wights ofttimes despeh>e. 
 
Z76 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTR; 
 
 %itt. — Young. 
 
 THE world's infectious ; few bring back at eve 
 Immaculate, the Manners of the morn. 
 Something we thought, is blotted ; we resolv'd, 
 Is shaken ; we renounc'd, returns again. 
 
 ILtfe. — Spenser. 
 
 OWHY doe wretched men so much desu-e 
 To draw their Dayes unto the utmost date, 
 And doe not rather wish them soone expu-e, 
 Knowing the Miserie of their estate, 
 And thousand perils which them stiU awate, 
 Tossmg them like a boate amid the mayne, 
 That every houre they knocke at Deathe's gate? 
 And he that happie seems and least in payne, 
 Yet is as nigh his End as he that most doth playne. 
 
 ILtfe. — Spenser. 
 
 SUCH is the weaknesse of all mortall Hope j 
 So fickle is the state of earthly tilings ; 
 That ere they come unto their aymed scope. 
 They fall too short of our frail reckonings, 
 And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings. 
 Instead of Comfort wliich 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 ! 
 
 Ittfe. — Keats, 
 
 FOUR seasons fiU 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 
 
 Sprmg's honey' d cud of youthful thought he loves 
 To ruminate, and by such dreaming high 
 
 Is nearest unto Heaven : quiet coves 
 His sold hath in its Autumn, when his wings 
 
 He furleth close ; contented so to look 
 On mists in Idleness — to let fau' things 
 
 Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. 
 Jffe has Ins Winter too of pale misfeatiire, 
 Or else he would forego his mortal nature. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 277 
 
 Htltfl'^ iCife. — Sha&espeare. 
 
 THE single and peculiar Life is bound, 
 With aU the strength and armour of the Mind, 
 To keep itself from 'noyance ; but much more 
 Tliat Spirit, upon whose weal depend and rest 
 The hves of many. The cease of Majesty 
 Dies not alone ; but, hke 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 tilings 
 Are mortised and adjom'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 Grroan. 
 
 ILtfll^t. — Milton. 
 
 Befoeb the Sun, 
 Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice 
 Of Grod, as with a mantle didst invest 
 The rising world of Waters dark and deep, 
 Won from the void and formless Infinite. 
 
 ILtgflt. — Milton, 
 
 HAIL, holy Light, ofispring of Heav'n first born, 
 Or of the eternal co-eternal beam. 
 May I express thee iinblam'd? since God is hght, 
 And never but in unapproached hght 
 Dwelt from Eternity, dwell then in thee. 
 Bright efiluence of bright essence increate. 
 
 %iiinm\%, — Coiton. 
 
 WERE we as eloquent as Angels, yet should we please 
 some Men, some Women, and some Cliildren much 
 more by hstening than by talking. 
 
 %ittXKX\\Xt, — Anon. 
 
 LITEEAE.Y Dissipation is no less destructive of sym- 
 pathy with the hving world, than sensual Dissipation. 
 Mere intellect is as hard-hearted and as heart-hardening 
 as mere Sense ; and the union of the two, when uncon- 
 troUed by the Conscience, and without the softening, 
 pm-ifymg influenees of the moral affections, is all that is 
 requisite to produce the diabohcal ideal of om- Natxire. 
 Nor is there any repugnance in either to coalesce with the 
 other : witness lago, Tiberius, Borgia. 
 
2 78 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 I BLl&tttg. — Addison. 
 
 THE man wlio will live above his present circtimstances 
 is in great danger of living in a little time mucli 
 ' beneath them. 
 
 5l0nlf0n. — JBt/ron. 
 
 AMIGrHTY Mass of Brick, and smoke, and sliipping, 
 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 tip-toe through their sea-coal canopy, 
 I ' A huge dun Cupola, Hke a foolscap crown 
 i On a fool's head — and there is London Town! 
 
 %aixtSan. — Johnson. 
 
 LONDON ! the needy Villain's gen'ral home, 
 The common sewer of Pai'is and of Eome ; 
 With eager Thirst, by folly or by fate, 
 j Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted State. 
 
 I JCoitgetittg. — Colton. 
 
 WEEE the Life of man prolonged, he would become 
 such a proficient in villany, that it woxdd be neces- 
 ' sary again to drown or to burn the World. Earth would 
 become a HeE: for future rewards, when put off to a [ 
 great distance, would cease to encom-age, and future j 
 punishments to alarm. 
 
 3l00lttn2 ttjp&jartf. — Colton. 
 
 " thoughts," says an eloquent divine, " like the 
 
 \J waters of the sea, when exhaled towards Heaven, 
 will lose all their bitterness and saltness, and sweeten 
 j into an amiable Hiunanity, vmtil they descend in gentle 
 showers of love and kindness upon our fellow men." 
 
 I E0qttactti). — Fuller. 
 
 LEAEN to hold thy Tongue. Five Words cost Zacha- 
 rias forty Weeks' Silence. 
 
 |£0t>£. — SJiaTcespewre. 
 
 She is so conjunctive to my life and Soul, 
 That, as the Star moves not but in his Sphere, j 
 j I coiild not but by her. | 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 279 
 
 JLoftC. — Shakespeare. 
 This bud of Love, by summer's ripening breath, 
 May prove a beauteous Flower, when next we meet. 
 
 JtOfat. — Sliakespea/re. 
 
 OE, 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-hfted ! but alas, 
 I am as true as Truth's simpHcity, 
 And simpler than the infancy of Truth. 
 
 liobC. — Campbell. 
 
 IN joyous Youth, what soilL hath never known 
 Thought, feehng, taste, harmonious to its own? 
 Who hath not paused while Beauty's pensive eye 
 Ask'd fi-om his Heart the homage of a sigh ? 
 Who hath not own'd, with raptm-e-smitten frame, 
 The power of Grace, the magic of a Name ? 
 
 3CobP. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OBEAWLINaLove! Gloving Hate! 
 O anything, of notliiug first create ! 
 O heavy Hghtness ! serious Vanity ! 
 Mis-shapen Chaos of well-seeming forms ! 
 Feather of Lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick Health ! 
 StLH- waking Sleep, that is not what it is ! 
 
 ICoiJE. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! never may Suspicion's gloomy sky 
 Chill the sweet glow of fondly trusting Love! 
 Nor ever may he feel the scowhng eye 
 Of dark Distrust his Confidence reprove! 
 In pleasing error may I rather rove, 
 With bhnd reliance on the hand so dear. 
 Than let cold Prudence from my eyes remove 
 Those sweet delusions, where no dou.bt nor fear, 
 Nor foul Disloyalty, nor cruel Change appear. 
 
 ILO&C. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
28o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 ILobC. — Shakespeare. 
 She loved me for the Dangers I had pass'd ; 
 And I loved her, that she did pity them. 
 
 ILOb^. — STiahespeare. 
 
 A iover's pinch, 
 Which hurts, and is desir'd. 
 
 3tO&0. — Shahesjpeare. 
 
 Ip ever thou shalt love, 
 In the sweet pangs of it remember me : 
 For, such as I am, ah true Lovers are ; 
 Unstaid and skittish in all motions else, 
 Save, in the constant Image of tlie creature 
 That is beloved. 
 
 itOftC. — ShaTcespeare. 
 I TELL thee, I am mad 
 In Cressid's love. Thou answer' st, she is fair; 
 Pour'st m the open ulcer of my Heart 
 Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice ; 
 Handiest in thy discourse — O that ! her hand ! 
 (In whose compai'ison all wliites are Ink, 
 Writing their own reproach) to whose soft seizure 
 The Cygnet's down is harsh, and spnit of Sense 
 Hard as the palm of Ploughman, 
 
 Ea6e. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! who the exquisite dehght can teU, 
 The joy wliich 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 J oy reluctantly departs : 
 Let but the sympathizing heart be spared. 
 What Sorrow seems not light, what Peril is not dar'd ? 
 
 iCflbC. — Dryden. 
 The power of Love, 
 In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heaven above, 
 Eules, um'esisted, 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. aSi 
 
 IL0t)0. — Byron. 
 
 Oh ! I envy those 
 Whose Hearts on Hearts as faithful can repose, 
 Who never feel the void— the vrand'ring thought 
 That sighs o'er visions — such as mine hath wrought. 
 
 3£0bt. — ShaJcespeare, 
 
 BOLDNESS comes to me now, and brings me Heart : 
 Prince TroUus, I have loved thee night and day, 
 For many weary months. 
 
 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 — m faith, I he — 
 My thoughts were, like unbridled cMdren, grown 
 Too headstrong for their Mother ; see, we fools ! 
 Why have I blabb'd? who shall be true to us, 
 When we are so misecret to ourselves ? 
 But though I loved you well, I woo'd you not ; 
 And yet, good faith, I wisht myself a Man : 
 Or that we Women had men's privilege 
 Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue ; 
 For in this raptm-e I shall surely speak 
 The thing I shall repent ; see, see, your silence 
 (Cunning in dumbness) from my Weakness draws 
 My very So\al of Counsel. 
 
 Itfljje. — Shakespeare. 
 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 FoUy bought with Wit, 
 
 Or else a Wit by Folly vanquished. 
 
 Eab0. — Byron. 
 
 ALAS ! the Love of Women ! it is known 
 To be a lovely and a fearfid thing : 
 For ah of theirs upon that Die is thrown. 
 And if 'tis lost, hfe has no more to bring 
 To them but mockeries of the past alone. 
 
' I 
 
 282 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 %a^t, — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 Wht, what would you ? 
 Make me a Willow cabin at your gate, 
 And call upon my Soul within the house ; 
 Write loyal cantons of contemned Love, 
 And sing them loud even in the dead of night ; 
 Holla your name to the reverberate HiUs, 
 And make the babbling gossip of the air 
 Cry out, Ohvia ! 0, you should not rest 
 Between the elements of Air and Earth, 
 But you should pity me. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 BUT 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 bUnd ! 
 A Lover's Ear will hear the lowest sound, 
 When the suspicious head of thrift is stopt. 
 Love's Eeeling is more soft and sensible, 
 Than are the tender horns of cockled snails. 
 For Savour, is not Love a Hercules ? 
 Still climbing trees in the Hesperides. 
 Subtle as Sphinx ; as sweet and musical 
 As bright ApoUo's lute, strung with his hair : 
 And when Love speaks the voice of all the G-ods, 
 Mark, Heaven drowsie with the harmony ! 
 Never durst Poet touch a pen to write, 
 Until his ink were temper' d with Love's sighs ; 
 O, then his lines would ravish savage ears, 
 And plant in Tyrants mild humihty. 
 
 %a\it. — Sir A. Sunt. 
 
 WHAT is Love ? 'tis not the kiss 
 Of a harlot hp — the BHss 
 That doth perish 
 Even wMe we cherish 
 Tlie fleeting Charm : and what so fleet as this ? 
 He is blessed in Love alone, 
 Wlio loves for years, and loves but one. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 283 
 
 3l0i)£. — Sir Samuel E. Brydges. 
 
 OH Love, requited Love, how fine thy thi-ills, 
 That shake the trembling flame with ecstasy; 
 Ev'n eveiy vein celestial pleasure fills, 
 And mexpressive Bliss is in each sigh. 
 
 — Campbell. 
 
 OLOVE ! in such a wilderness as this. 
 Where Transport and Security entwine, 
 Here is the empire of thy perfect Bhss, 
 And here thou art a God indeed divine ; 
 Here shall no forms abridge, no hours confine 
 The views, the walks, that boundless Joy inspire ! 
 Eoll on, ye days of raptur'd influence, shine! 
 Nor bhnd with Ecstacy's celestial fire. 
 Shall Love behold the spark of earth-bom Time expire. 
 
 ILO&C. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 O, TOE 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 auy Tongue more hoarse than mine 
 With repetition of my Eomeo's name. 
 
 |L0&£. — Shakespea/re. 
 
 I DID not take my leave of him, but had 
 Most pretty thuigs to say : ere I could teU liiui 
 How I would think on liim, at certain Horn's, 
 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 liim ; 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. 
 
 31o60. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I will wind thee in my arms ; 
 So doth the Woodbine, the sweet Honey-siickle, 
 Gently entwist the Maple : Ivy so 
 Em'ings the barky fingers of the Elm. 
 
284 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 Ii0fa0. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 How wayward is tliis foolish Love, 
 That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, 
 And presently, aU humbled, kiss the Eod ? 
 
 ILotlf, — Shakes'peare. 
 
 ■ Otte separation so abides, and flies. 
 
 That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, 
 And Ij hence fleeting, here remain with thee. 
 
 3i06£. — Shakespeare. 
 
 While injmy of chance 
 Puts back Leave-taking, justles rouglily by 
 All time of pause, rudely beguiles om* Lips 
 Of all rejoyndure, forcibly prevents 
 Oxxr lock'd embraces, strangles our dear Vows, 
 Ev'n in the bu'th of om- 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 liis rich thiev'ry up, he knows not how. 
 As many Farewels 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. 
 
 ^OJjB. — SpeTiser, 
 
 Fob Lovers' Eyes more sharply sighted be 
 Than other men's, and iu dear Love's dehght 
 See more than any other Eyes can see. 
 
 iL0&e. — Moore. 
 
 OH ! who that has ever had Bapture complete. 
 Would ask how we feel it, or why it is sweet ; 
 How rays are confus'd, or how particles fly, 
 Tlii'ough the medium refin'd of a Grlance or a Sigh! 
 Is there one, who but once wovild not rather have known it, 
 Than written, with Harvey, whole Volumes upon it ? 
 
 ICotig. — Shakespeare. 
 
 A LOSS of her 
 That, hke a Jewel, has hung twenty years 
 About liis neck, yet never lost her Lustre. 
 
OB, THINGS NJEW AND OLD. 285 
 
 iCobC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 YOU are a Lovei- ; 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 boimd a pitch above dull Woe : 
 Under Love's heavy burden do I sink. 
 
 3t0b0. — Shakespeare. 
 Love goes toward Love, as school-boys from their book'3 ; 
 But Love from Love, toward school with heavy looks. 
 
 %aht. — Spenser. 
 No lesse was she in secret Hart affected, 
 But that she masked it with Modestie 
 For feare she should of Lightnesse be detected. 
 
 JCo&t. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I "WOULD have thee gone ; 
 And yet no farther than a wanton's Bird, 
 That lets it hop a httle 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. 
 
 %abC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LovEES and Madmen have such seething brains. 
 Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 
 More than cool Eeason ever comprehends. 
 
 3I0&C. — Moore. 
 
 SHE 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' un discover' d seas, 
 To show his Plumage for a day 
 ^ To wondering eyes, and wing away ! 
 
 ito6C. — Spenser. 
 
 SAD, solemne, sovrre, and full of Fancies fraUe 
 She woxe, yet wist she nether how nor why ; 
 She vnst not (sdly Mayd) what she did aile. 
 Yet wist she was not well at ease perdy, 
 Yet thought it was not Love but some Melancholy. 
 
286 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3LO&0. — Spenser. 
 
 SHEE greatly gan enamoiored to wex, 
 And with vain thoughts her falsed fancy vex : 
 Her fickle Hart conceived hasty Fyre, 
 Like sparkes of Fyre that fall in sclender flex, 
 That shortly hrent into extreme Desyre, 
 And ransackt aU her veines with Passion entyre. 
 
 ILC&E. — Shakespeare. 
 Now by the jealous queen of Heaven, that Kiss 
 I carried from thee, dear ; my true Lip 
 Hath virgin' d it e'er since. 
 
 %aht. — JByron. 
 
 IT was such pleasure to behold liim, such 
 Enlargement of Existence to partake 
 Nature with him, to thrill beneath his touch, 
 To watch him slumbering, and to see him wake : 
 To hve with him for ever were so much ; 
 But then the thoiight of parting made her quake : 
 He was her own, her Ocean- treasure, cast 
 Like a rich Wreck — her First love, and her Last. 
 
 — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 UNHAPPY Psyche ! soon the latent wound 
 The fading Roses of her Cheek confess. 
 Her Eyes' bright Beams, in swimming sorrows drowned, 
 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 ovnas, for which she hngering sighed. 
 
 ILotlt. — Shakespeare. 
 All thy vexations 
 Were but my trials of thy Love, and thou 
 Hast strangely stood the Test. 
 
 JCO&C. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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. 287 
 
 ILD&C. — 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 waU, she turns herself to Laughter : 
 So do I weep and wail and plead in vain, 
 Whiles she as Steel and FHnt doth still remain. 
 
 ILo&C. — Shakespeare. 
 How all the other passions fleet to air. 
 As doubtful Thoughts, and rash-embrac'd Despair, 
 And shudd'ring Fear, and green-ey'd Jealousie. 
 
 0 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 sm-feit. 
 
 ILo&e. — Byron. 
 
 HOW beautiful she looked ! her conscious Heart 
 G-low'd in her Cheek, and yet she felt no wrong. 
 0 Love ! how perfect is thy mystic Art, 
 Strengthening the Weak, and trampling on the Strong, 
 How self-deeeitful is the sagest part 
 Of mortals whom thy Lui-e hath led along. 
 
 %a'syt, — 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. 
 
 JC0l3C. — Moore. 
 
 THE world ! — ah, Fanny ! Love must shun 
 The path where many rove ; 
 One Bosom to recHne upon, 
 One Heart to be his only-one. 
 Are qmte enough for Love ! 
 
288 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH ; 
 
 liO&E. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THAT wliich I sliow, Heaven knows, is merely Love, 
 Duty and zeal to your xinmatclied 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. 
 
 %a^t, — La Bruylre. 
 
 LOVE seizes on us suddenly, without giviag warning, 
 and our Disposition or our Weakness favours the 
 Surprise ; one Look, one Glance from the fan-, fixes and 
 determines us. Friendship, on the contrary, is a long 
 time in forming, it is of slow growth, thi-ough many trials 
 and months of Famiharity. 
 
 Hobs. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Shotod we be taking Leave 
 As long a term as yet we have to live. 
 The Loathness to depart would grow. 
 
 ICfl&C. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 WHAT shall I do to wui my Lord again ? 
 G-ood friend, go to him ; for, by this light of Heaven, 
 I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel : 
 If e'er my vrill 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 foi-m ; 
 Or that I do not yet, and ever did, 
 And ever will, — though he do shake me oS" 
 To beggarly Divorcement,— love him dearly. 
 Comfort forswear me ; Unkmdness may do much ; 
 And his Unkindness may defeat my Life, 
 But never taint my Love. 
 
 %QSit. — Shakes'pea/re. 
 
 FEIEjSTDSHIP is constant in all other things. 
 Save in the oifice and affau's of Love : 
 Therefore, aU 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. 
 
OR, TsmaS NEW AND OLD. iig 
 
 3L0b£. — JBi/ron. 
 
 THEY should have lived together deep iii Woods, 
 Unseen as sings the Nightingale; they wei-e 
 Unfit to mix in these tliick Sohtudes 
 
 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 theu" Carrion, just as mortals do. 
 
 IL0&£. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Love is not Love, 
 When it is mingled with Respects, that stand 
 Aloof from the entire point. 
 
 Ha&e. — JByron. 
 
 OH beautiful ! and rare as beautiful ! 
 But theirs was Love in wliich the mind dehghts 
 To lose itself, when the old world grows dull. 
 
 And we are sick of its hack Sounds and Sights. 
 
 ICobe. — Shakespeare. 
 A mued'eotts guilt shows not itself more soon, 
 Thau Love that would seem hid; Love's night is Noon. 
 
 ILabf . — Shakespeare. 
 Sweet Love, changing his property, 
 Turns to the sourest and most deadly Hate. 
 
 iCobC. — Moore. 
 jrriWAS his own Voice. She could not err, 
 
 JL Throughout the breathing world's extent 
 There was but one such Voice for her. 
 
 So kind, so soft, so eloquent ; 
 Oh ! sooner shall the Bose of May 
 
 Mistake her own sweet Nightingale, 
 And to some meaner minstrel's lay 
 
 Open her bosom's glowing veil. 
 Than Love shall ever doubt a tone, 
 
 A breath of the beloved One! 
 
 3L0bt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Natuee is fine in Love ; and, where 'tis fine, 
 It sends some precious instance of itself 
 After the thing it loves. 
 
290 ILLUSTBATIONS OF IBUTR; 
 
 3£,D&E. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THERE lives witliin the very flame of Love 
 A kind of AVick, or Snuif, that will abate it ; 
 And nothing is at a like goodness still : 
 For goodness, growing to a Pleurisy, 
 Dies in liis own too-much. 
 
 ?to60. — Shalcespeare. 
 Wheee Love is great, the httlest doubts are fear : 
 Where little Eears grow great, great Love grows tliere 
 
 ?[.O60. — Byron. 
 
 The river 
 
 Damm'd from its Eountaia — the Cluld from the Knee 
 
 And Breast maternal wean'd at once for ever. 
 Would wither less than these two torn apart ! 
 Alas ! there is no instiact hke the Heart ! 
 
 5Lo6t. — Byron. 
 
 AND 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 vaua 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 wUl ? 
 To her he might be Gentleness ; the stern 
 Have deeper thoughts than your dull eyes discern. 
 And when they love, yom- smilers guess not how 
 Beats the strong Heart, though less the Lips avow. 
 
 ILobC. — Shakespeare. 
 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 (Hke l?atience on a monument) 
 Smiling at Grief. 
 
 %n'ot. — Scott. 
 
 rf^HE Bose is fairest when 'tis budding new, 
 .L AndHope is brightest when it dawns from fears; 
 Tiie Hose is sweetest washed with morning Dew, 
 And Love is loveliest when embalmed in Tears. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 ILDb?, — Shalcespeare. 
 Looks kill Love, and Love by looks revivetli : 
 A Smile recnres the woimding of a Frown, 
 But blessed bankrupt, that by Love so thriveth. 
 
 Holts. — Shakespeare. 
 If I prove her haggard, 
 Tlio' 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 hve upon the vapour of a dungeon. 
 Than keep a Corner in the thing I love, 
 For others' use. 
 
 ^01)0, — Shakespeare. 
 
 HER passions are made of nothing but the finest part 
 of pure Love : we cannot caU her winds and waters, 
 sighs and tears ; they are greater storms and tempests 
 than almanacks can report : this cannot be Cunning in 
 her ; if it be, she makes a Shower of Rain as well as Jove. 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 "With thee aU toils are sweet, each clime hath charms ; 
 Earth — Sea alike — our World within our arms ! 
 
 I 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 OH Love! no habitant of earth thou art — 
 An unseen Seraph, we beheve in thee, 
 A faith whose martyrs are the broken Heart, 
 But never yet hath seen, nor e'er shaU 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 haimts the unquenched Soul — parched — wearied— 
 wrung — and riven. 
 
 HofiC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 When Love begins to sicken and decay, 
 
 It useth an enforced Ceremony. j 
 
 Jtobe. — Shakespeare. \ 
 
 BASE men, being in Love, have then a Nobihty in ! 
 their natures more than is native to them. 
 
 - I 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3iobC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN the Blood burns, how prodigal the soul 
 Lends the Tongue vows. These blazes, Daughter, 
 G-ivmg more hght than heat, extinct in both, I 
 Ev'n in their promise as it is a making, 
 You must not take for Eire. 
 Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence, 
 Set your intreatments at a higher rate, 
 Than a command to parley. 
 
 BtnbC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 As ia the sweetest Bud 
 The eating Canker dwells, so eating Love 
 Inhabits in the finest wits of aU. 
 
 As the most forward Bud 
 Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow, 
 Even so by Love the young and tender Wit 
 Is tirm'd to Eolly ; blasting in the bud. 
 Losing his verdxire even in the prime, 
 And aU the fair efi"ects of future Hopes. 
 
 Il06e. — Milton. 
 
 FOESAKE me not thus, witness Heaven 
 Wliat Love sincere, and Eeverence in my heart 
 I Lear thee, and unweeting have offended, 
 Unhappily deceiv'd! Thy supphant 
 I beg, and clasp thy Knees ; bereave me not, 
 Whereon I hve, thy gentle looks, thy aid. 
 Thy counsel in this uttermost Distress, 
 My only strength and stay : forlorn of thee, 
 Wliither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 
 
 3L0bE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MY 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 pubhsh every where. 
 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 moximful Hymns did hush the niglit, 
 But that wild music burdens every bough, 
 And sweets grown common lose their dear dehglat. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 293 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 LOVE'S a capricious power : I've known it liold 
 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. 
 
 BtObC. — Spenser. 
 
 BUT 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 tiling 
 Rashly to witen creatm-es so divine ! 
 For demigods they be, and first did spring 
 
 From Heaven, though graft in Frailness Feminine. 
 
 3£ol)C. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Heaven witness, 
 I've been to you a true and humble Wife, 
 At all times to your Will confonnable : 
 Ever in fear to kindle your Dishke, 
 Yea, subject to your count'nance ; glad or soi-ry, 
 As I saw it inclin'd : when was the horn- 
 I ever contradicted your Desu-e, 
 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 hun deriv'd your Anger, did I 
 Continue m my hking ? nay, gave notice 
 He was fi-om thence dischai'g'd. Su-, 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 covirse 
 And process of this time you can report, 
 And prove it too, against my Honour aught. 
 My bond of Wedlock, or my love and Duty 
 Against your sacred person ; in God's name, 
 Tm-n me away ; and let the foul'st contempt 
 Shut door upon me, and so give me up 
 To th' sharpest kind of Justice. 
 
 ILO&C. — Dryden. 
 Love never fails to master wiiat he finds, 
 But works a different way in different minds, 
 The Fool enlightens, and the Wise he bhnds. 
 
I 
 
 294 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 11060. — Byron. 
 Man's love is of Man's life a tiling, a Part, 
 'Tis Woman's whole Existence. 
 
 JtofiC. — Shakes'peare. 
 
 LOVE is full of unbefitting strains ; 
 All wanton as a CMd, skipping, and vain ; 
 Fonn'd by the eye, and, therefore, hke the Eye, 
 Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, 
 Varying in subjects as the Eye doth roU 
 To every varied object in his Glance. 
 
 3tO&0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HAVE I liv'd 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 AflPections, 
 Lov'd him next Heav'n, 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 di-eam'd a joy beyond his Pleasure: 
 And to that woman, when she has done most, 
 Yet will I add an Honour ; a great Patience. 
 
 E0be. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 WHEN Pleasure sparkles in the cup of youth, 
 And the gay houi-s on downy wing advance, 
 Oh ! then 'tis sweet to hear the hp of Truth 
 Breathe the soft vows of Love, sweet to entrance 
 The raptur'd soul by interminghng glance 
 Of mutual Bhss ; sweet amid roseate bowers, 
 Led by the hand of Love, to weave the dance, 
 Or immolested crop Life's fairy flowers. 
 Or bask in Joy's bright sun through calm unclouded 
 hours. 
 
 ICofiC. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 Love is bhnd, and Lovers cannot see 
 The pretty folhes that themselves commit. 
 
 ^Obe. — Shakespeare. 
 Her virtues, graced with external Gifts, 
 Do breed Love's settled passions in my heart. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 295 
 
 iLoftC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0, THOU didst tlien ne'er love so heartily : 
 If thou remember' st not the slightest Folly 
 That ever Love did mate 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. > 
 %abt. — Milton. 
 
 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 Uve 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 ft^cl 
 The link of nature draw me : flesh of flesli. 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and fi-om thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, Bliss or Woe. 
 
 ILoIjb. — Byron. 
 
 IF changmg cheek, and scorching Vein, 
 Lips taught to writhe, but not compiiun ; 
 If biu'sting Heart, and madd'ning bram, 
 And daring deed, and vengeful Steel, 
 And all that T have felt and feel. 
 Betoken Love — that love was muie. 
 
 HDbC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I LOVE yom- 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 liim not 
 By token of presumptuous suit : 
 Nor would I have him, till I do desei-ve him ; 
 Yet never know how that Desert should be. 
 I know I love in vain, strive against Hope j 
 Yet, in this captious and intenibb sieve, 
 I still pour in the waters of my Love, 
 And lack not to lose stiU. 
 
296 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 EoiJt. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 A thou sweet sprite, whose power doth far extend, 
 ./V. Smile on the mean liistorian of thy fame ! 
 My heart in each distress and fear hefriend, 
 Nor ever let it feel a fiercer Mame 
 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 oiFer'd to thy tln'one, 
 So may I lore but one, by one beloved alone. 
 
 JLOb0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEN 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. 
 Tin the last step have brought me to my Love ; 
 And there I'U rest, as, after mucli turmoil, 
 A blessed Soul doth in Elysium. 
 
 3L0&£. — Byron. 
 
 THUS Passion's fire and Woman's art 
 Can turn and tame the Sterner Heart, 
 Erom these its form and tone are ta'en, 
 And what they make it, must remain, 
 Or break — before it bend again. 
 
 |[,0t)0. — Byron. 
 DEEM'D that time, I deem'd that Pride, 
 Had quench' d at length my boyish Flame; 
 JSTor knew, till seated by thy side. 
 My heart in all, save Hope, the same. 
 
 — Shalcespeare. 
 
 WE, that are true Lovers, run into strange capers ; 
 but as all is mortal in Natvu'e, so is all Nature in 
 love mortal in folly. 
 
 ILn&C. — Byron. 
 
 Eaeth holds no other hke to thee, 
 Or if it doth, in vain for me. 
 
 3t06e. — Milton. 
 
 Confiem'd then I resolve, 
 Adam shall share with me in Bhss or Woe : 
 So dear I love him, that with liim all deaths 
 I coiild endure, withoiit him live no Life. 
 
 I 
 
OB, TEINGS NEW AND OLD. 297 
 
 ?Lo6e. — South. 
 " T OVE covers a multitude of sins." When a Scar 
 I J cannot be taken away, the next kmd office is to hide 
 I it. — Love is never so bhnd as when it is to spy Faults. 
 
 ILaiie. — Ovid. 
 That you may be beloved, be amiable. 
 
 3i0b0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 INFIDELITIES ought to extinguish Love, and we 
 should not be jealous, even when we have reason to be 
 so ; it is only persons who avoid causing J ealoiisy who 
 are worth bemg jealous of. 
 
 3Lo&?. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O aivE 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, hves sweetly where she dies. 
 
 I %abt* — Shakespeare. 
 
 ^ He says, he loves my Datighter ; 
 
 I think so too ; for never gaz'd the Moon 
 Upon the water, as he'll stand and read 
 As 'twere my daughter's Eyes : and, to be plain, 
 
 j I think, there is not half a Kiss to choose 
 
 ' Who loves another best. 
 
 JLflilt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 ENVY is destroyed by true FriendsMp, and Coquetry 
 by true Love. 
 
 ILobE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 SWEET, rouse yourself ; and the weak wanton Cupid 
 Shall from yoiir neck unloose his amorous fold, 
 \ And, like a Dewdrop from the Lion's mane, 
 Be shook to air. 
 
 3iO&C. — Oreville. 
 
 CASUAL 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 
 1 flying forwards ; so Lovers wiU find, that disagreements, 
 if they are too frequent, will at length lose their Elasticity 
 and impel to Love no more. 
 
298 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 lltl&e. — Addison. 
 
 THE 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. 
 
 3Lo6£. — Oreville. 
 
 AS Love win often make a Wise man act like a Eool, so 
 wiU. Interest often make a Fool act Hke a Wise man. 
 
 2Lo6^. — SJialcespeare. 
 
 LOVE is a smoke rais'd with the fume of Sighs, 
 Being purg'd, a Eire sparkhng ra lovers' eyes ; 
 Being vext, a Sea nourish'd with lovers' tears ; 
 What is it else ? a Madness most discreet, 
 A choking G-all, and a preserving Sweet. 
 
 — Bulwer. 
 
 THEEE 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. 
 
 ILO&e. — Tucker. 
 
 LOVE, pecuharly so called, must always centre in ;i 
 single object, because that thorough coincidence of | 
 interest and participation of pleasures necessary to render I 
 it perfect, cannot obtain between more than two persons. 
 Friendship may take in a httle larger compass, but can 
 extend only to a few chosen objects ; the friendsliips 
 recorded in Mstory have always run in pau-s, as between ! 
 Theseus and Pu-ithous, Orestes and Pylades, Scipio and | 
 Lehus, Cicero and Atticus. 
 
 If^ObE. — Shalcespeare. 
 O, 'tis the curse in Love, and still approved, 
 When Women cannot love where they're beloved. 
 itOilC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Too Ught winning 
 Makes the Prize light. 
 
 ILO&e. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LovEES break not hours, 
 TJnless it be to come before then' time ; 
 So much they spur their Expedition. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 JlO&e. — Byron. 
 
 THE cold in Clime are cold in Blood, 
 And Love as scarce deseiTes the name ; 
 But mine is like the Lava flood 
 That burns in Etna's breast of Elame. 
 
 JCflbC. — Qreville. 
 
 THE poets judged hke Philosophers, when they feigned 
 Love to be Bhnd : how often do we see in a Woman 
 what our judgment and taste approve, and yet feel nothing 
 towards her ; how often what they both condemn, and yet 
 feel a great deal ! 
 
 HotlC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 KIND is my Love to-day, to-morrow kind, 
 StiU constant in a wondrous Excellence : 
 Fair, Kind, and True, have often hv'd alone, 
 Wliich three, tiU. now, never kept seat in one. 
 
 3t06e. — Terence. 
 
 IT is possible that a man can be so changed by Love 
 that one could not recognise lihn to be the same person. 
 
 2,060. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Admie'd Miranda ! 
 Indeed, the top of Admiration ; worth 
 What's dearest to the world ! full many a Lady 
 I've ey'd with best regard, and many a time 
 Til' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage 
 Brought my too dihgent Ear ; for several vu-tues 
 Have I lik'd sev'ral Women, never any 
 With so fudl soul, but some defect in her 
 Did qviarrel vtdth the noblest grace she ow'd, 
 And put it to the foil. But you, O you, 
 So perfect, and so peerless, are created 
 Of every Creature's best. 
 
 — Colton. 
 
 THE plainest man that can convince a Woman that ho 
 is really in Love with her, has done more to make her 
 in Love with him than the handsomest man, if he can 
 produce no such conviction. 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. 
 
300 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ICobj. — Kume. 
 
 WHEN a person is once heartily in Love, the Utile 
 faults and caprices of his Mistress, the jealousies 
 and quarrels to which that Commerce is so subject, how- 
 ever unpleasant they be, and rather connected with Anwer 
 and Hatred, are yet to be found, in many instances, to 
 give additional force to the prevailing Passion. 
 
 Itnfie. — Middleton. 
 
 The treasures of the deep are not so precioxis 
 As are the conceal' d Comforts of a man 
 Lock'd up in Woman's Love. 
 
 JCO&S. — Shakespeare. 
 Wish chastely, and love dearly. 
 
 ito60. — ShaJcesfeare. 
 
 DIDST thou but know the inly touch of Love, 
 Thou would' st as soon go kindle fire with snow, 
 As seek to qixencli 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 bui-n above the bounds of reason. 
 The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns ; 
 The cun-ent that vrith gentle miu'mur glides, 
 Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; 
 But, when his fair com-se is not hindered, 
 He makes sweet Music with the enamel'd stones, 
 Griving a gentle Kiss to every sedge 
 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; 
 And so by many winding nooks he sti-ays, 
 With willing sport, to the wild Ocean. 
 
 3to60. — Urasmus. 
 
 LOVE, that has nothing but Beauty to keep it in good 
 health, is short-lived. 
 
 3l06e. — Burton. 
 
 NO Cord or Cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, 
 as Love can do with only a single Tln-ead, 
 
 3£rtbe. — Goldsmith. 
 
 LOYE, when founded in the Heart, wUl show itself in 
 a thousand unpremeditated sallies of Fondness ; but 
 eveiy cool deliberate exliibition of the Passions only argues 
 little understanduig or great Insincerity. 
 
OR, TRINGS NEW AND OLD. 301 
 
 ILO&e. — Milton. 
 
 Smiles from reason flow, to Brutes denied, I 
 And are of Love the food. ; 
 
 3Lnbe. — Fuller. 
 
 AFFECTIONS, like the Conscience, are rather to be 
 led than drawn; and 'tis to be feared, they that 
 many where they do not lore, will love where they do not 
 marry. 
 
 3Lob0. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 OSPIEIT of Love, how quick and fresh art thou ! 
 That notwithstanding thy capacity, 
 Eeceiveth as the Sea ; nought 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. 
 
 3LobC. — Bryden. j 
 
 LET Grace and Goodness be the principal loadstone of j 
 
 thy Alfections. For Love wliich hath ends, will have j 
 
 an end ; whereas that which is founded on true Virtue, ; 
 
 will always continue. j 
 
 ILobt. — Shakespeare. \ 
 Let me but bear yom- Love, I'll bear yom- Cares. 
 
 3L0bE. — Saville. 
 
 IT is as false to play with Fu-e 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 dis- 
 tance, that she may not be witHn the danger of doing the 
 most usual tiling in the world, wliich is consphing against 
 herself: else the humble Gallant, who is only admitted as 
 a trophy, very often beconietli the conqueror ; he putteth i 
 on the style of Victory, and from an admu-er groweth into | 
 a Master, for so he may be called from the moment he is 
 in possession. 
 
 ILnbE. — 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 chann it, when Possession and Security tmii their 
 powerful arms against her. 
 
302 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 It06£. — Valerius Maximtis. 
 
 WHEEE there exists the most ardent and true Love 
 it is often better to be united in Death than sepa- 
 rated in Life. 
 
 Il06e. — CoUon. 
 
 COEPOEEAL chamis may indeed gain admirers, but 
 there must be mental ones to retain them; and 
 Horace had a dehcate 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 
 Sjpectat et audit ! 
 
 %a^Z. — Plautus. 
 
 WHEEE Love has once obtained influence, any Sea- 
 ■ soning, I believe, will please. 
 
 3Lo&J. — SJienstone. 
 
 LOVE can be founded upon Nature only, or the appear- 
 ance of it, for this reason ; however a peruke may 
 tend to soften the human featm-es, it can very seldom make 
 amends for the mixture of Artifice wliich it discovers. 
 
 %tAt. — Lavater. 
 
 LOVE 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. 
 
 SLn&P, — Shalcespeare. 
 
 She bids you 
 All on the wanton Eushes lay you down, 
 And rest your gentle Head upon her lap, 
 And she will sing the song that pleaseth you, 
 And on your eyehds crown the God of sleep. 
 Cha rm i n g your Blood with pleasing heaviness ; 
 Making such difF'rence betwixt wake and sleep. 
 As is the diif'rence betwixt day and night. 
 The horn' before the heav'nly-harness'd team 
 Begins his Golden progress iu the east. 
 
 — La Bruyere. 
 
 WE never love heartily but once, and that is the first 
 time we love. Succeeding inclinations are less invo- 
 luntary. 
 
OB. THINGS NEW AND OLD. loi 
 
 Eflbe. — Colton. 
 
 IT is a dangerous experiment to call in Gratitude as 
 an ally to Love. Love is a debt, wliich inclination 
 always pays, obligation never ; and the moment it becomes 
 lukewarm and evanescent, reminiscences on the score of 
 Gratitude serve only to smother the flame. 
 
 3iObB. — Shahespeare. 
 
 It were all one 
 That I should love a bright partic'lar 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. 
 
 EofiE. — Colton. 
 
 LOVE is an alliance of Friendship and of Ltist ; if the 
 former predominate, it is a Passion exalted and 
 refined, but if the latter, gross and sensual. 
 
 3Lob0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF 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 : 
 O, it came o'er my Ear hke the sweet soutii, 
 That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
 Stealing and givmg Odour. 
 
 I£ot)0. — Shakespeare . 
 
 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 ; 
 
 AH Adoration, Duty, and Obsei-vance, 
 
 All Himibleness, all Patience and Impatience, 
 
 AH Pm-ity, all Trial, all Observance. 
 
 ILObC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Leave you your power to draw, 
 And I shall have no Power to follow you. 
 
3 04 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB UTH; 
 
 2,0&e. — Addison. 
 
 RIDICULE, 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. 
 
 %ahZ. — Addison. 
 
 THE pleasantest part of a man's life is generally that j 
 which passes in Coui'tship, 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. 
 
 iLfl&£. — Smohesworth. 
 
 AS Love without Esteem is volatile and capricious; j 
 Esteem without Love is languid and cold. j 
 
 ILobE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF ever (as that ever may be near) 
 You meet in some fi-esh cheek the power of Fancy, 
 Then shall you know the Woimds invisible 
 That Love's keen Arrows make. j 
 
 Hob^. — Sir FMlip Sidney. \ 
 
 TEUE Love can no more be diminished by showers of 
 evil than Flowers are marred by timely Eains. 
 
 JLObE. — Euripides. J 
 
 That Love alone, which Virtue's laws controul, j 
 Deserves reception in the human Soul. ] 
 
 %a'at, — Colton. I 
 
 I 
 
 LOVE may exist without Jealousy, although this is 
 rare ; but J ealousy may exist witlioiit Love, and tins 
 is common. 
 
 JLo&C — Shakespeare. 
 
 O TOtr 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 ! 
 
 ItObC. — La 'Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE always dread the sight of the person we Love 
 when we have been coquetting elsewhere. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 305 
 
 iLobC. — Shakespeare. 
 TiiTE, Force, aud Death, 
 Do to tlii8 body what extremes you cau : 
 But the strong base and building of my LoTe 
 Is as the very centre of the Earth, 
 Drawing all tilings to it. 
 
 ILobP. — Shakespeare. 
 
 ILEAYE myself, my friends, and all for Love. 
 Thou, thou hast metamorphos'd me ; 
 Made me neglect my Studies, lose my time, 
 War with good Counsel, set the world at nought ; 
 Made wit with musing weak ; Heai't-sick with thought. 
 
 3Ln6£. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 A Man of sense may Love like a Madman, but never 
 hke a Fool. 
 
 3lflbC. — Shakespeare. 
 How silver-sweet sound Lovers' tongues by night. 
 Like softest music to attending ears ! 
 
 ILObC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I 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 chas'd Sleep from my enthralled Eyes, 
 And made them watchers of mine own Heiu't's Sorrow. 
 O gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty Lord ; 
 And hath so humbled me, as I confess. 
 There is no woe to his correction ; 
 Nor to his service, no such Joy on earth. 
 Now no discotu'se, except it be of Love ; 
 Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep 
 Upon the very naked name of Love. 
 
 iLnbC. — Sterne. 
 
 IT is sweet to feel by what fine-spun threads om' Affec- 
 tions are drawn together. 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 The gifts, she looks fi-om me, are pack'd and lock'd 
 Up in my Heart ; wliicli I have given already. 
 But not dehver'd. 
 
3o6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 ItobE. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 ALL the Passions make us commit faults, but Love 
 makes us commit the most ridiculous ones. 
 
 Eo6e. — Goethe. 
 
 HATE makes us vehement partisans, but Love still 
 more so. 
 
 ilobc. — Shakespeare. 
 Love 
 
 Will creep in Service where it cannot go. 
 
 ItnbS. — La Eochefoucaiild. 
 We forgive so long as we love. 
 ILO&C. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OHAED-BELIEVING Love ! how strange it seems 
 Not to beheve, and yet too credulous ! 
 Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes, 
 Despair and Hope make thee ridiculous ! 
 The one doth flatter thee, in thoughts unhkely, 
 With hkely Thoughts, the other kills thee quickly. 
 
 %aht. — La Hochefoucauld. 
 
 THE pleasure of Love is in lovuig. We are happier m 
 the Passion we feel than in that we excite. 
 
 |Co6e. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 
 Beceive in either by this dear encounter, 
 
 3L06C. — Shakespeare. 
 O MT soul's joy ! 
 If after every Tempest come such calms, 
 May the winds blow till they have waken' d Death! 
 And let the laboiuing 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 hke to this 
 Succeeds in imknown fate. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 307 
 
 IL0bC. — Sazlitt. 
 
 IT 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. 
 
 itobC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully : 
 Or if you think I am too quickly won, 
 I'U frown and be pei-verse, and say thee nay, 
 So thou wilt woo ; but, else, not for the World. 
 
 Hobs. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 IT 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 sympathy ; and in the Body it is nothing 
 but a latent and deUcate Desire to possess the loved object. 
 
 |L0t)0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 LOVE, like Fire, cannot subsist withou.t continual 
 movement ; as soon as it ceases to hope and fear, it 
 ceases to exist. 
 
 ILOt)^ . — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THE course of true Love never did run smooth : 
 But, either, it was difierent 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 momentaiy as a Sound, 
 Swift as a Shadow, short as any Dream, 
 Brief as the hghtning in the collied night, 
 That (in a spleen) unfolds both Heaven and Eartli : 
 And ere a man hath power to say, Behold ! 
 The jaws of Darkness do devour it up ; 
 So quick bright things come to confusion. 
 
 — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THEEB is no Disguise which can long conceal Love 
 where it does, or feign where it does not, exist. 
 
 JCobC. — Jean Paul. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 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. 
 
o8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3io6C. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LoTE is not Lore, 
 Whicli alters when it alteration finds ; 
 Or bends, with, the remover to remove : 
 O 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 bendiag sickle's compass come : 
 Love alters not with his brief Hours and Weeks, 
 But bears it out even to the edge of Doom. 
 
 ICoiJC. — La HocTiefoueauld. 
 
 IT is with true Love as with Apparitions. Every one 
 talks of it, but few have ever seen it. 
 
 3£06e. — ShaTcespeare. 
 Bind up those tresses ; O, what Love I note 
 In the fair multitude of those her hairs ; 
 Where bxit by chance a silver drop hath fall'n. 
 E'en to that drop ten thousand wiery Friends 
 Do glew themselves in sociable Grief; 
 Like true, inseparable, faithful Loves, 
 Sticking together in Calamity. 
 
 ILDfte, — SJiaTcespeare. 
 
 I SWEAR to thee by Cupid's strongest bow ; 
 By his best Arrow with the golden head, 
 By the simphcity of Venus' doves. 
 By that, which knitteth Souls, and prospers Loves ; 
 And by that fire which bum'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. 
 
 |[,a&£. — La MocTiefoucauld. 
 
 WOMEN often fancy themselves in Love even when 
 they are not. The occupation of an Intrigue, the 
 .^motion of mind which GraUantry produces, the natui-al 
 leanmg to the pleasure of being loved, and the pain of 
 refusing, persuade them that they feel the passion of Love, 
 when in reaUty they feel notliing but Coquetry. 
 
OB, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 309 
 
 3Lob0. — Anon. 
 
 ALL tattlers delight in getting hold of anything 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. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 0, HOW this spring of LoTe resembleth 
 The uncertain glory of an April day; 
 Which now shews all the beauty of the Sun, 
 And by and by a Cloud takes all away. 
 
 3L0&?. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Faeeweh ; one Eye yet looks on thee, 
 
 But with my heart the other Eye doth see. 
 
 Ah, poor our sex ! tliis fault in us I find. 
 The error of our Eye directs om* mind. 
 What error leads, must err ; O then conclude, 
 Minds away'd by Eyes are full of tm-pitude. 
 
 |Lo6^. — SJiaTcespeare. 
 
 Love's heralds should be thoughts, 
 Which ten times faster ghde than the Sun's beams 
 Driving back shadows over low'ring hills : 
 Therefore do nimble-pinion' d Doves draw Love, 
 Aud therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. 
 %0^Z. — Ovid. 
 
 LET him who does not choose to be considered a lazy 
 Fellow fall in Love. 
 
 ILOiJC. — Shakespeare. 
 Love hke a Shadow flies, when substance Love pursues ; 
 Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues. 
 
 ILo6f. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 THINGS 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 wing'd Cupid painted bhnd ; 
 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 beguil'd. 
 As waggish boys in game themselves forswear, 
 So the boy Love is perjured every where. 
 
310 ILL USTBATIONS OF TR UTH. 
 
 ILObC. — La JRochefoueauld. 
 
 MEN are almost equally difficult to satisfy, when they 
 have very much Love, and when they have scarcely 
 any left. 
 
 %{ihZ, — La JRochefoueauld. 
 
 IT is impossible to love a second time what we have once 
 really ceased to love. 
 
 %0bt4 — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 They do not love, that do not show their Love. 
 
 %abt. — CoUon. 
 
 LOVE 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 Credulitj 
 more than either. 
 
 JLObC. — ShaTcesfeare. 
 
 OMOST potential Love ! vow, bond, nor space. 
 In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, 
 For thou art all, and aU things else are tliine. 
 Wlien thou impressest, what are Precepts worth 
 Of stale example ? When thou wHt inflame, 
 How coldly those impediments stand forth 
 Of Wealth, of filial Fear, Law, Eindred, Fame! 
 ! Love's arms are Peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gaiiis< 
 I shame ; 
 
 I And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, 
 ' The Aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. 
 
 HobC. — Moore. 
 
 THE time I've lost in wooing. 
 In watching and pursuing 
 The Light that hes 
 ' In woman's Eyes, 
 
 ; Has been my Heart's undoing. 
 
 Tho' Wisdom oft hath sought me, 
 I scorn' d the lore she brought me. 
 My only books 
 Were woman's looks. 
 And Folly's aU they've taught ma. 
 
OB. THINGS NEW AND OLD. 31 » 
 
 — CoUon. 
 
 FEIENDSHIP often ends in Love ; but Love, in 
 Fi'iendship — never. 
 
 lL06e. — Byron. 
 
 OURS too the Glance none saw beside ; 
 The Smile none else might understand ; 
 The wlaisper'd Thought of hearts alhed, 
 The pressure of the tlirilhng hand. 
 
 HObe. — Moore. 
 
 I COULD have lov'd you— oh so well ; — 
 The dream, that wishing boyhood knows, 
 Is but a bright, beguihng Spell, 
 
 Wliich 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 kindi'ed soul it meets ! 
 Yes, yes, I could have lov'd, as one 
 
 Who, while his youth's enchantments fall, 
 Finds something dear to rest upon, 
 Which pays liim for the Loss of all ! 
 
 ICollf . — Shakespeare. 
 Love's counsellors should fill the pores of hearing, 
 To the smothering of the Sense. 
 
 JCobt. — Shakespeare. 
 Violent dehghts have violent ends, 
 And in then* Triumph die ; hke fire and powder, 
 Which, as they kiss, consmne : the sweetest Honey, 
 Is loathsome in its own Deliciousness, 
 And in the taste confounds the appetite : 
 Therefore, love moderately ; long Love doth so, 
 Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 
 
 JtObe. — 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-. 
 
 ILO&e. — Prior. 
 LoTE, well thou know'st no partnership allovv's : 
 Cupid averse rejects divided Vows. 
 
312 ILLU8TBATI0N8 OF TRUTE ; 
 
 %a^Z. — Byron. 
 
 NOE 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 hack to kindness, though disgust 
 Hath wean'd it from aU worldlings ; thus he felt ; 
 For there was soft Kememhrance, and sweet trust 
 In one fond Breast, to which his own woiild melt 
 And ia its tenderer hoiu- on that liis Eosom dwelt. 
 
 ILObg. — Byron. 
 
 NONE are aU evil— quickening roimd his heart. 
 One softer feehng would not yet depart ; 
 Oft could he sneer at others as begml'd 
 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 — u,nchangeahle— unchanged, 
 • Felt but for one from whom he never ranged ! 
 Though fairest captives daily met his eye, 
 He shunned, not sovight, hut coldly passed them by ; 
 Though many a Beauty drooped in prisoned bower, ' 
 None ever sooth' d his most unguarded hom\ 
 Yes— it was Love— if thoughts of tenderness, 
 Tried in temptation, strengthened by distress. 
 Unmoved by Absence, fii-m in every clime, 
 And yet — Oh more than aU ! luitired by time ; 
 Which nor defeated hope, nor baf3.ed 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 ; 
 Wliich still would meet with joy, with calmness part, 
 Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart ; 
 Which nought removed, nor menaced to remove — 
 If there be Love in mortals— this was Love ! 
 
 3Cn60. — Dryden. 
 
 I 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 Hke a Miser m the dark, 
 ■To feast alone. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 313 
 
 3LOi)0. — Moore. 
 
 ALAS — how light a cause may move 
 Dissension between Heai'ts 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 olF, 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea, 
 When Heaven was aU. tranquilhty. 
 
 ILObt. — Higgons. 
 
 LOYE is that passion which refines the Soul ; 
 First made men Heroes, and those heroes Grods ; 
 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 hfe is an ignoble calm ; 
 The soTil vmmov'd by Love's inspmng breath. 
 Like lazy waters stagnates and corrupts. 
 
 3Ltlb0. — Dryden. 
 
 THEEB is no satiety of Love in thee ; 
 Enjoy'd, thou still ai-t new : Perpetual spring 
 Is in thy arms ; the ripen' d Fruit but falls, 
 And blossoms rise to fiU its empty place. 
 And I grow rich by giving. 
 
 3L0&C. — Otway. 
 
 I HAD so fixed my Heart upon her. 
 That wheresoe'er I fram'd a scheme of life 
 For time to come, she was my only joy, 
 With which I used to sweeten future cares : 
 I fancy' d Pleasm'es, none but one who loves 
 And doats as I did, can imagine like them. 
 
 3L0ilS. — Bryden. 
 
 LOVE gives Esteem, and then he gives Desert : 
 He either finds equahty, or makes it : 
 Like Death, he knows no chiference in degrees, 
 But planes and levels aR. 
 
 5LO&0. — Addison. 
 Wheit 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. 
 
314 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 HobC. — Addison. 
 
 LOYE is not to be reason' d down, or lost 
 In high Ambition, or a tliii-st of Greatness : 
 'Tis second hfe, it grows into the soul, 
 WaiTBS ev'ry vein, and beats in ev'ry pulse : 
 I feel it here : my Resolution melts. 
 
 %a'Qt, — Milton. 
 
 IN loTuig thou dost well, in passion not, 
 Wherein true Love consists not : Love refines 
 The thoughts, and Heart enlarges, hath its seat 
 In Eeason, and is judicious, is the scale 
 By which to Heav'nly love thou may'st ascend, 
 Not sunk in carnal Pleasvire, for which cause 
 Among the beasts no mate for thee was found. 
 
 IC0f)S. — Byron. 
 
 All the stars of Heaven, 
 The deep blue noon of night, Ht by an orb 
 Which looks a spirit, or a spirit's world — 
 The hues of Twihght — the stm's gorgeous coming — 
 His setting indescribable, which fiUs 
 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 bu'd'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 fi*om Earth to Heaven 
 
 To gaze on it. 
 
 Hobf . — Young. 
 
 OTHE soft commerce ! O the tender ties, 
 Close-twisted with the fibres of the heart ! 
 Which, broken, break them ; and drain off the Soul 
 Of human Joy ; and make it pain to hve — 
 And is it then to hve .P when such Friends part, 
 'Tis the survivor dies. 
 
 ILa&0. — Ycmg. 
 
 Aet thou not dearer to my eyes than light ? 
 Dost thou not circulate thro' all my veins. 
 Mingle with life, and form my very Soul ? 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 31S 
 
 ILOlje. — Mrs. TigTie. 
 
 OH, who art thou who darest of LoTe 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 liis 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. 
 
 iLO&0. — Spenser. 
 
 TTTONDEE. it is to see in diverse mindes 
 VV How diversely Love doth his pageaunl-: play, 
 And shewes his Powre in variable kindes : 
 The baser wit, whose ydle thoughts alway 
 Are wont to cleave unto the lowly clay, 
 It stuTcth up to sensuaU Desire 
 And in lewd slouth to waste his cai-elesse day ; 
 But in brave sprite it kindles goodly fii'e. 
 That to all high Desert and Honour doth aspire. 
 
 iCobe. — Byron. ^ 
 
 YES, Love indeed is light fi-om Heaven, 
 A spark of that immortal fire 
 With Angels shar'd, by Alia given. 
 
 To lift from Earth our low desire. 
 Devotion wafts the mind above. 
 
 But Heaven itself descends ia Love ; 
 A feeling from the Godhead caught, 
 
 To wean from self each sordid thought { 
 A ray of Him who fonned the whole ; 
 A glory circhng round the Soul ! 
 
 — Spenser. 
 
 GREAT enintj to it, and to aU 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 aU 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 Mahce hard. 
 
3 1 6 ILL U8TBATI0NS OF TB UTE: 
 
 iiObC. — Byron. 
 
 OH, LoTe ! 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 ? 
 
 3i,06C. — 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 Gran doth over it redound. 
 
 — Spenser. 
 
 THE joyes of Love, if they should ever last 
 Without affliction or Disqxiietnesse, 
 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 daiaty, as is meet. 
 
 %ahZ, — Butler. 
 
 FOE. 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 ; 
 Mate Love and court by Intuition. 
 
 %abZ, — Frior. 
 
 0 MIGHTY Love ! from thy unbounded power 
 How shall the human bosom rest secure ? 
 How shall owe 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 ? 
 
 3Laht. — Young, 
 
 IF Love were endless. Men were Gods ; 'tis that 
 Does cotmterbalance travaH, danger, pain,— 
 'Tis Heaven's expedient to make mortals bear 
 The hght, and cheat them of the peaceful Grave. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 317 
 
 — Young. 
 
 Not all the pride of Beauty ; 
 Those eyes, that teU us what the Sim is made of : 
 Those hps, whose touch is to be bought with Life ; 
 Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt : 
 AU these possest are nought, but as they are 
 The proof, the substance of an inward passion, 
 And the rich plunder of a taken Heart. 
 
 3l0be. — Moore. 
 
 OH magic of Love ! unembeUish'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 ? 
 
 EO&e. — Scott. 
 
 IN 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 Grrove, 
 And Men below, and Saints above ; 
 For Love is Heaven, and Heaven is Love. 
 
 |L0bC. — Young. 
 
 WHO never Lov'd ne'er suffer'd ; he feels nothing. 
 Who nothing feels but for himself alone ; 
 And when we feel for others, Keason reels, 
 O'erloaded, from her path, and Man runs mad. 
 
 — Scott. 
 
 TETTE Love's the gift which Cod hath given 
 To man alone beneath the Heaven ! 
 It is not Fantasy's hot fire, 
 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; 
 It hveth not in fierce Desu'e, 
 
 With dead Desu'e 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. 
 
 iltlbe. — Thomson. 
 Those fond sensations, those enchanting Dreams, 
 Which cheat a toiling World from day to day. 
 And form the whole of Happiness they know. 
 
3i8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRVTM; 
 
 IL0f)0. — Bums. 
 
 0 HAPPY Love ! -where Love like this is found ! 
 Oh heartfelt raptures ! Bliss beyond compare ; 
 I've paced much this veeary 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 Thom that scents the evenine 
 gale." 
 
 Eobe. — Prior. 
 
 0 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 desu'e ! 
 Among thy various gifts, great Heaven, bestow 
 Our cup of Love munix'd ; forbear to throw 
 Bitter ingredients in : nor pall the draught 
 With nauseous grief : for our iU-judging thoiight 
 Hardly enjoys the pleasurable taste ; 
 Or deem'd it not sincere ; or fears it cannot last. 
 
 Hotie. — Spenser. 
 
 FOR Love is a celestial Harmony 
 Of hkely hearts compos' d 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 belov'd to be. 
 
 £,060. — Joanna Baillie, 
 
 Fain would I speak the thoughts I bear to thee ; 
 But they do choke and flutter in my throat. 
 And make me hke a Child. 
 
 2Lo&0. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 OFT in the watchful post, or weary march, 
 Oft in the nightly silence of my tent, 
 My fixed mind shall gaze upon it stUl ; 
 But it wiU pass before my Fancy's eye 
 Like some delightful vision of the Soul, 
 To soothe, not trouble it. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 319 
 
 ILo6e. — Spenser. 
 
 LOVE 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 discai-ding, 
 Love's Life's Eeward, rewarded in rewarding : 
 Then fi-om thy wretched heart fond Care remove : 
 Ah ! shouldst thou hve but once Love's sweets to prove, 
 Thou wilt not love to hve, unless thou live to love. 
 iLtlbt. — 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 makes the poor account of Life complete. 
 And justify the G-ods. 
 
 5L0be. — Milton. 
 
 Bttt 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 Heav'n, aU places thou. 
 
 — Thomson, 
 
 WHY should we kill the best of passions, Love ? 
 It aids the Hero, bids Ambition rise 
 To nobler heights, inspires Immortal deeds, 
 Ev'n softens brutes, and adds a Grace to Virtue. 
 
 HobC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BUT Love, first learned in a lady's eyes, 
 Lives not alone immui-ed in the Brain : 
 But with the motion of aU elements. 
 Courses, as swift as Thought, in every power j 
 And gives to every power a double power, 
 Above their functions and their offices. 
 
 JLO60. — Trior. 
 
 FANTASTIC Tyrant of the amorous heart. 
 How hard thy Yoke! how cruel is thy dait 
 Those 'scape thy Anger who refuse thy sway. 
 And those are pxmished most who most obey. 
 
320 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SLobg. — Swift. 
 
 LOVE why do we one Passion call, 
 When 'tis a compound of them all? 
 Where hot and cold, where shai'p and sweet, 
 In all their equipages meet ; 
 Where Pleasures mix'd with Pains appear, 
 Sorrow with Joy, and Hope with Eear. 
 
 ICobK. — Byron. 
 
 The war of elements no fears impart 
 
 To Love, whose deadhest bane is Human art : 
 
 There lie the only E-oeks our coui'se can check. 
 
 iLobt. — Spenser. 
 
 SUCH is the powre of that sweet Passion, 
 That it all sordid baseness doth expel. 
 And the refined mind doth newly fashion 
 Unto a faher form, which now doth dweU 
 In his high Thought, and would itself excel, 
 Which he beholding still with constant Sight, 
 Admires the Mirrour of so heavenly hght. 
 
 %aht, — Prior. 
 
 SOFT Love, spontaneous tree, its parted root 
 Must from two Hearts with equal vigoiu' shoot " 
 Whilst each dehghted and dehghting gives 
 The pleasing ecstacy which each receives ; 
 Cherish' d with Hope, and fed with Joy it grows ; 
 Its cheerful hiids 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 supphes ; 
 Wild with Despah', or sick with Grief, it dies. 
 
 %abZ. — Mrs. TigTie. 
 
 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 imheeded way ! 
 Oh ! let me here with Life my woes resign, 
 Or ia this gloomy den for ever stay. 
 And shun the scornful World, nor see detested day. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. ^^l 
 
 Eobe. — Scott. 
 He who stems a Stream with Sand, 
 And fettei's Elame with flaxen band, 
 Has yet a harder task to prove — 
 By firm Eesolre to conquer Love ! 
 
 ILObf . — Spenser. 
 
 THE gnawing Envy, the heart-fretting Fear, 
 The vain sunnises, the distrustful sliows. 
 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. 
 
 !l0be. — mil. 
 
 THEEE are, in Love, the extremes of toucli'd Desire ; 
 The noblest brightness ! or the coarsest Eire ! 
 In vulgar bosoms vidgar wishes move ; 
 Natm-e guides choice, and as men think they love. 
 In the loose Passion men profane the name, 
 Mistake the pui-pose, and pollute the Elame : 
 In nobler bosoms Eriendship's form it takes, 
 And sex alone the lovely difference makes. 
 
 HobC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 INEYEE su'd to Eriend nor enemy ; 
 My tongue could never learn sweet soothing word ; 
 But now thy beauty is propos'd my fee, 
 My proud Heart sues, and prompts my Tongue to speak, 
 
 3£,0&C. — Coidey. 
 
 A MIGHTY Pain to Love it is. 
 And 'tis a Pain that Pain to miss ; 
 But of ah Panis the greatest Pain 
 It is to Love, and Love in vain. 
 
 JLO&£. — Thomson. 
 117HEEE lives the man (if such a man there be) 
 
 VV In idle Wilderness, or Desert drear, 
 To Beauty's sacred power an enemy? 
 Let foul fiends harrow him ; I'll drop no tcnr. 
 I deem that carl by Beauty's power unmov'd 
 Hated of Heaven, of none'bat Hell approv'd ; 
 
 O may he never Love, O never be bdov'd! 
 
ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3£oiJ0. — Spenser. 
 Ne may Love be compeld to maistery ; 
 Fo scone as maistery comes, sweet Lore anone 
 Taketh his nimble Winges, and soone away is gone. 
 
 JLfliie. — Moore. 
 
 IOVE will nevei- bear enslaving ; 
 J Summer garments suit him best ; 
 Bliss itself is not worth having, 
 If we're by Compulsion blest. 
 
 VuO^t. — Spenser. 
 
 HUMBLED with feare and awfull reverence, 
 Before the footstoole of his Majestic 
 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. 
 
 Efl&e. — Bryden. 
 O LoTE ! thou sternly dost thy power maintain. 
 And wilt not bear a Rival in thy reign. 
 Tyrants and thee all fellowship disdain. 
 
 %a^t, — Mrs. TigJie. 
 
 WHEN 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. 
 
 3l0lje. — Southey. 
 
 LOVE'S holy flame for ever burneth ; 
 From Heaven it came, to Heaven returad'h : 
 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 soweth here with toil and care. 
 But the harvest-time of Love is there. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3*3 
 
 3L0IJC. — Fope. 
 
 OH happy state ! when Souls each other draw, 
 Wlien Love is liberty, and Nature law : 
 All then is full, possessing and possess' d, 
 No craving void left acliing in the breast : 
 Ev'n Thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part, 
 And each warm wish springs mutual from the Heart. 
 
 JlDbe. — Moore. 
 
 OH Natm-e ! though blessed and bright are thy rays, 
 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 ! 
 
 ILD&C. — 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 ; 
 A-bove the Lyre, the lute's soft notes above, 
 With sweet enchantment to the soul it steals, 
 A.nd bears it to Elysium's happy grove ; 
 you best can teU the rapture Psyche feels 
 When Love's ambrosial Lip the vows of Hymen seals, 
 
 — Shakespeare. 
 
 HIS sovd 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. 
 
 Hobs. — Byron. 
 
 HE who hath loved not, here would learn Love, 
 And make his Heart a spirit ; he who knows 
 That tender mystery, wiU love the more. 
 For this is Love's recess, where vain men's woes, 
 And the world's waste, hath driven him fer 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 hghts, in its Eternity ! 
 
 ILobe. — Lamb. 
 Man, while he Loves, is never quite deprav'd, 
 And Woman's triumph is a Lover sav'd. 
 
324 ILLUSTBATIOm OF TRUTH; 
 
 %Q'az. — Moore. 
 
 TO see thee every day tliat came, 
 And find thee every day the same. 
 In Pleastxre'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 Sunsliine, every day. 
 And aU my pain, my sorrow chas'd, 
 Is now a lone and loveless waste. 
 
 3£fli)£. — Moore. 
 
 LOVE 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 ! 
 
 ILo6£. — Spenser. 
 
 So Love does raine 
 In stoutest minds, and maketh monstrous WaiTe r 
 He maketh warx-e : he maketh Peace againe, 
 And yett his Peace is but continuall Jarre : 
 O miserable men that to him subject arre ! 
 
 Hofit. — Moore. 
 
 OH what, wliile I could hear and see 
 Such words and looks, was Heaven to me ? 
 Though gross the aii- on Earth I drew, 
 'Twas blessed, while she breath' d it too ; 
 Though dark the flowers, though dim the sty, 
 Love lent them Light, wliile she was nigh. 
 
 |t06s. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 pm-e Grold. 
 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3^5 
 
 %tihZ. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! hai?e you never known tlie silent charm 
 That tindisturb'd Retu'ement yields the soul, 
 Wliere no intruder might yoiir peace alarm, 
 And Tenderness have wept without controul, 
 Wliile melting Fondness o'er the bosom stole P 
 Did Fancy never, in some lonely grove, 
 Abridge the hours wliich must in absence roll P 
 Those pensive Pleasm-es did you never prove, 
 Oh, you have never Loved ! yoii know not what is Love ! 
 
 Jtoljg. — Addison. 
 
 Why dost thou frown upon me ? 
 My Blood runs cold, my Heart forgets to heave. 
 And Life itself goes out at thy displeasure ! 
 
 ILO&e. — Moore. 
 jrpWAS bxit for a moment- — and yet in that time 
 
 JL She crowded th' impressions of many an horn' : 
 Her eye had a glow, hke the Sun of her clime. 
 
 Which wak'd every feeling at once into Flower ! 
 
 ILn&E. — Milton. 
 
 SO cheer'd he his fair spouse, and she was cheerM, 
 But silently a gentle Tear let fall 
 From either eye, and wip'd them with her hair ; 
 Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
 Each m their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
 Kiss'd, as the gracious signs of sweet Eemorse 
 And pious awe, that fear' d to have offended. 
 
 HO&e. — Milton. 
 
 LOVE, Hke od'rous Zephyr's grateful breath, 
 Eepays the Fiow'r that sweetness which it borrow' d : 
 Urdnjm'ing, uninjtu-'d, Lovers move 
 In their own sphere of happiness confest. 
 By mutual Truth avoiding mutual blame. 
 
 ILoiJ^. — Dryden. 
 Love is a child that talks in broken Language, 
 Yet then he speaks most plain. 
 
 E0t>« 0f tIjC ?lH0rI&. — Clarendon. 
 
 THEY take very unprofitable pains who endeavour to 
 persuade men that they are obhged wholly to despise 
 this World and all that is m it, even whilst they them- 
 
326 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 selves live here : God hath not taken all that pains in 
 forming and framing and famishing and adorning this 
 World, that they who vrere made by Him to Uve in it 
 sliould despise it ; it wiU be weU enough if they do not 
 love it so immoderately, to prefer it before Him who made it. 
 %a^t of Countrj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 THIS royal Throne of Kings, tHs 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 ; 
 Tliis precious Stone set in the Silver Sea, 
 Which serves it in the ofBce of a wall, 
 Or as a moat defensive to a house, 
 Against the envy of less happier lands ; 
 This blessed plot, tliis Earth, this Eealm, this England, 
 Dear for her Reputation tlu-ough the world. 
 
 ^Clf'HatlE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 SIN of Self-love possesseth aU mine eye. 
 And all my Soixl, and all my every part ; 
 And for this sin there is no remedy, 
 It was 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 aU other in all worths surmoimt. 
 But when my glass shows me myself indeed. 
 Seated and chopp'd with tann'd Antiquity, 
 Mine own Self-love quite contrary I read, 
 Self so Self-loving were Iniquity. 
 
 HOjjaltg. — Cowper. 
 
 WE too are Mends to Loyalty. We love 
 The King who loves the Law ; respects his bounds, 
 And reigns content within them. Him we serve 
 Freely and with delight, who leaves us free. 
 But recollecting stiU that he is Man, 
 We trust him not too far. 
 
 Hu^t. — Shakespeare. 
 The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Q-race, 
 For there it revels, and when that decays, 
 The guilty Rebel for remission prays. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3 
 
 Eu^t. — Milton. 
 
 CAPEICIOUS, 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. 
 
 ?Lu;St. — Spenser. 
 
 AS pale and wan as ashes was his looke, 
 His body leane and meagre as a Eake, 
 And skin all withered like a dried rooke ; 
 Thereto as cold and drery as a Snake, 
 That seem'd to tremble evermore and quake. 
 
 %\Xii, — Milton. 
 
 But when Lust 
 By imchaste looks, loose Grestm-es, and foul tallc, 
 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 fu'st being. 
 
 ILtt^t. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE expense of spirit in a waste of Shame 
 Is Lust in action ; and tiU action, Lust 
 Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame, 
 Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust ; 
 Enjoy'd no sooner, but despised straight; 
 Past Reason hmited ; and, no sooner had, 
 Past Reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, 
 On purpose laid to make the taker mad : 
 Mad in pursuit, and in possession so ; 
 Had, having, and in request to have, extreme ; 
 A bhss in proof, — and proved, a vei-y woe ; 
 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. 
 
 iLu^t. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 VIRTUE, as it never will be moved, 
 Though Lewdness com-t it in a shape of Ueav'n 
 So Lust, tliough to a radiant angel Hnk'd, 
 Will sate itself in a celestial bed. 
 And Drey on garbage. 
 
328 ILLUSTBATIOm OF TBUTE; 
 
 |LttS"t. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 Within a montli, 
 Ere yet tlie salt of most unrighteous Tears 
 Had left the flushing of her galled Eyes, 
 She married : — O most wicked speed. 
 
 I iLu^t. — Slialcespeare. 
 
 THIS was your Hushand— Look you now, what follows i 
 Here is your Husband ; like a mildew' d ear. 
 Blasting his wholesome Brother. Hare 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 tMs, to this ? 
 
 iLttyitrjJ. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Weaeinesss 
 
 Can snore' upon the Elint, when restive Sloth • 
 Einds the Down piUow hard. 
 
 ILttyurj). — Johnson. 
 
 SUCH is the Dihgence with which, in countries com- 
 pletely civihsed, one part of mankind labour for 
 another, that wants are supphed 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 occupations; aiid 
 multitudes are busied from day to day in finding the Eicli 
 and the Eortunate something to do. 
 
 %^ix\%. — Montaigne. 
 
 AETEE 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 wp see some 
 men, who are otherwise very honest, so subject to tliis 
 vice. 
 
 BLgtrtg. — Montaigne. 
 
 LYING- is a hateful and accursed Vice. We are not 
 men, nor have other tie txpon one another, but 
 our word. If we did but discover the Horror and con- 
 sequences of it, we should pursue it with Eu-e and Sword, 
 and more justly than other Crimes. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 329 
 
 JCyiUtJ. — Addison. 
 Faisehood and Fraud grow up in every soil, 
 The pi'oduct of all climes. 
 
 JLuiu^. — From the Latin. 
 rpHE first step towards useful Knowledge, is to be able 
 J. to detect Falsehood. 
 
 ;;^aUtl£S*^. — Byron. 
 
 SHE 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 ; 
 ISot speechless though she spoke not ; not a sigh 
 
 Relieved her thoughts ; duU silence and quick chat 
 Were tried in vain by those Avho served ; she gave 
 No sign, save breath, of having left the Grave. 
 
 JUlalfnCS"^. — Moore. 
 
 This wretched brain gave way, 
 And I became a Wreck, at random driven. 
 Without one ghmpse of Reason or of Heaven. 
 
 ^^XXtii. — Byron. 
 
 Evert sense 
 Had been o'erstrung by pangs intense, 
 And each frail fibre of her brain 
 (As bow-strings when relax' d by rain 
 The eri'ing Arrow launch aside) 
 Sent forth her Thoughts all wild and wide. 
 
 K^t ^n^lltt. — Darwin. 
 The obedient Steel with hving instinct moves, 
 And veers for ever to the Pole it loves. 
 
 i^afluet. — Byron. 
 
 That ti'embling vassal of the Pole, 
 The feehng Compass, Navigation's soul, 
 
 li^alclfiction. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 FEED not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth. 
 Nor with thy sweets comfort his rav'nous sense : 
 But let thy spid'ers, that suck up thy venom. 
 And heavy gaited toads, lie in his way. 
 
3 3 o ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB UTH; 
 
 ^m. — Colton. 
 
 MKS is that compound Being, created to fill that wide \ 
 liiatus, that must otherwise have remained unoccii- I 
 pied, between the Natural world and the Spiritual ; and 
 he sjanpatliises with the one in his death, and wiU be 
 associated with the other by his resmTection. Without 
 another state, it would be utterly impossible for Him to 
 explain the difficiilties 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 somewhat of the refinement of the other. Eeason, 
 like the magnetic influence imparted to iron, gives to matter 
 properties and powers which it possessed not before, but 
 without extending its bidk, augmenting its weight, or j 
 altering its Organisation ; hke that to which I have com- 
 pared it, it is visible only by its effects, and perceptible j 
 only by its operations. Reason, siiperadded to Man, gives 
 him pecuhar and characteristic views, Responsibilities, 
 and destmations, 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 tlu-cne 1 
 of Grod even unto Man, uniting Heaven with Earth, and I 
 Earth with Heaven. For all is connected, and without a 
 chasm; from an Angel to an atom, all is proportion. 
 Harmony, and strength. 
 
 i8IatT. — Fascal. 
 
 WHAT a chimera is Man! what a confused Chaos! 
 what a subject of contradiction !— a professed judge 
 of all tilings, and yet a feeble worm of the Earth! the 
 great depository and guardian of Truth, and yet a mere 
 huddle of imcertainty ! the glory and the scandal of the 
 Universe! 
 
 ;PlaU. — Prior. 
 
 CEASE, Man of woman born, to hope relief 
 From daily Trouble and continued G-rief ; 
 Thy hope of Joy deliver to the wind, 
 Suppress thy passions, and prepare thy mind ; 
 Free and familiar with Misfortune grow, 
 Be us'd to Sorrow and imu-'d to Woe ; 
 By weakening toil and hoary age o'ercome, 
 See thy decrease, and hasten to thy Tomb. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3 3 1 
 
 ^KW. — CoUon. 
 
 MAN, though individually confined to a naii'ow spot 
 of this Globe, and Kmited, in liis 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. 
 
 Ptau. — Byron. 
 
 Admiee, exult, — despise, — laugh, weep, — for here 
 There is mixch matter for all feehng ; — -Man ! 
 Thou Pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. 
 
 ^KW, — Tucker. 
 
 THERE are Hmits 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 Wisdom, there are not any physical 
 limits short of the Universe itself, wliich the happy mind 
 aspu'es to know, and to the order of which he would con- 
 form liis will. The animals are qualified, by their organi- 
 sation and their instincts, for the particular Element and 
 the circumstance in which they are placed, and they are 
 not fit for any other ; but Man, by his intelhgent powers, 
 is quahfied for any scene of which the cu'cumstances may 
 be observed, and in which the proprieties of conduct may 
 i be understood. 
 
 i^ait. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Daee do all that may become a Man : 
 Who dares do more, is none. 
 
 fBLm, — JPeter Pindar. 
 
 THE mind of Man is vastly hke a hive ; 
 His thoughts are busy ever — all alive ; 
 But here the simile wiQ go no fai'ther ; 
 For Bees are making Honey, one and all ; 
 Man's thoughts are busy in producing Gall, 
 Committing, as it were, Self-murther. 
 
 i^an. — Lavater. 
 
 THE 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 an-anged. 
 
332 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 jSftaU, — Frior. 
 
 BUT do these worlds display their beams, or guide 
 Their orbs, to serve thy use, to please thy pride ? 
 Thyself but dust, thy statui'e but a span, 
 A moment thy duration, foolish Man ! 
 As well may the minutest emmet say. 
 That Caucasus was rais'd to pave his way; 
 The snail, that Lebanon's extended wood 
 Was destin'd 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, 
 
 JHair. — Young. 
 
 HOW poor, how' rich, how abject, how august, 
 How complicate, how wonderful, is Man ! 
 How passing wonder He, who made him such ! 
 Who centred in om- make such strange extremes ! 
 From diff'rent natures marvellously mixt, 
 Connexion exquisite of distant Worlds ! 
 Distinguisht hnk in Being's endless chain! 
 Midway from nothing to the Deity ! 
 A beam ethereal, sully' d, and absorpt! 
 Though sully' d and dishonour' d, still divine! 
 Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! 
 An heir of Glory 1 a frail child of dust ! 
 Helpless Immortal ! Insect infinite ! 
 A Worm ! a God ! 
 
 ^KXl, — Bacon. 
 
 READING maketh a full Man; Conference a ready 
 Man ; and Writmg an exact Man. 
 
 j^au. — Prior. 
 
 CONDEMN' D to sacrifice his childish years 
 To babbhng Ignorance, and to empty fears ; 
 To pass the riper period of his age 
 Acting his part upon a crowded stage ; 
 To lasting toils expos' d and endless Cares, 
 To open dangers, and to secret snares ; 
 To mahce, which the vengeful Eoe intends. 
 And the more dangerous Love of seeming Friends. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 333 
 
 j^an. — Pope. 
 
 NOT always actions sliow tlie Man ; we find 
 Who does a kindness, is not therefore kind : 
 Perhaps Prosperity becahn'd his breast, 
 Perhaps the wind jiist shifted from the east : 
 Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat, 
 Pride guides his steps, and bids hun shun the grea : ; 
 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, hes. • 
 
 iMait. — Spenser. 
 
 VAIN glorious Man, when fluttering wind docs 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 advaunced hye. 
 Such Praise is shame ; but Honour', Vertue's meed, 
 Doth bear the fayrest flowere in honourable seed. 
 
 iHan.— Pope. 
 
 BEHOLD the child, by Natm-e's kindly law 
 Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw ; 
 Some hvelier plaything gives liis Youth delight, 
 A httle louder, but as empty quite ; 
 Scarfs, Garters, Gold amuse his riper stage ; 
 And beads and pray'r-books are the toys of age ; 
 Pleas' d with this Bauble stiU, as that before ; 
 Till tir'd he sleeps, and Life's poor play is o'er. 
 
 i^att. — Spenser. 
 
 SO greatest and most glorious thing on gromid 
 May often need the helpe of weaker hand ; 
 So feeble is Man's state, and Life unsound, 
 That in assm-ance it may never stand, 
 TiU it dissolved be from earthly Band. 
 
 iiJilan. — Steele. 
 
 A MAN that is Temperate, Generous, Valiant, Chaste, 
 Faithful, and Honest, may, at the same tune, have 
 Wit, Humour, Mirth, Good Breeding, and Gallantry, 
 rt'^hile he exerts these latter quahties, twenty occasions 
 nugiit be invented to show he is master of the other noble 
 Virtues. 
 
334- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^SXU — Pope. 
 
 SEE liim from Naturs rising slow to Art ! 
 To copy instinct tlii;n was reason's part : 
 Thus then to man the voice of Natm-e spake — 
 Go, from the creatures thy instructions take : 
 Learn from the Bfrds 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 ; 
 Leam of the little Nautilus to sail, 
 Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving Glale. 
 
 iJ^att. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HowETEE we do praise om-selves, 
 Om* Fancies are more Giddy and infirm, 
 More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, 
 Than Women's are. 
 
 iPlait. — Farnell. 
 
 LET business vex him, Avarice blind, 
 Let Doubt and Knowledge rack his mnul, 
 Let Errour act. Opinion speak, 
 And Want afilict, and Sickness break, 
 And Anger bm-n. Dejection chill. 
 And Joy distract, and Sorrow kill, 
 Till arm'd by Care, and taught to mow, 
 Time draws the long destructive blow. 
 
 ;^aitl)Oair. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE is but the counterfeit of a Man, who hath not tha 
 life of a Man. 
 
 i^KV^Oati, — Shakespeare. 
 
 I'lL never 
 
 Be such a gostling to obey instinct ; but stand, 
 As if a Man were Author of himself, 
 And knew no other kin. 
 
 :^ann«r^. — Steele. 
 
 I TAKE it for a rule, that the natural, and not the 
 acquired man, is the companion. Learning, wit, gal- | 
 lantry, 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 manner of being or | 
 appearing eqiial to the rest of the Comjiany. 
 
OE, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 H^aitltCrS. — Addison. 
 
 COMPLAISANCE renders a Superior amiable, an Equal 
 agreeable, and an Inferior acceptable. It smooths 
 distinction, sweetens conversation, and makes eveiy one 
 in the company pleased with himself. It produces Q-ood 
 Natiu-e and mutual benevolence, encoui-ages the timorous, 
 soothes the turbulent, humanises the fierce, and dis- 
 tinguishes a society of civiHzed persons from a confusion 
 of savages. 
 
 iilamter^. — La Bruyere. 
 
 A MAN'S Worth is estimated in this world according 
 to his conduct. 
 
 ^mxxtt^, — Addison. 
 
 THE true art of being agi*eeable, is to appear well 
 pleased with aU the Company, and rather to seem 
 well entertained with them, than to bring entertainment 
 to them. A man thus disposed, perhaps, may have not 
 much Learning, nor any Wit ; but if he has Common 
 Sense and something fiiendly in his behaviour, it con- 
 ciliates men's minds moi-e than the brightest parts with- 
 out this disposition : 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 Sincei-ity, 
 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; tliis 
 disposition is not merely the gift of Nature, but frequently 
 the effect of much Knowledge of the world, and a com- 
 mand over the Passions. 
 
 M^tam<i. — Shahespeare. 
 
 THOSE that are Grood Manners at the Coui-t are as 
 ridiculous in the Country, as the Behaviour of the 
 Country is most mockable at the Court. 
 
 H^antttf^. — Swift. 
 
 IP a man makes me keep my Distance, the comfort is, 
 he keeps his at the same time. 
 
 i^annerjS. — Greville. 
 
 You will, I beheve, in general, ingratiate yourself with 
 others, still less by paying tliem too much Court 
 than too little. 
 
336 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 j^smtcr^. — Chesterfield. 
 
 GOOD-BEEEDING is the result of much Good Sense, 
 some Good Nature, and a httle Self-denial for the 
 sake of others, and with a view to obtain the same in- 
 dulgence from them. 
 
 ;:^ann0l'^. — Cliesterfleld. 
 
 A MAN'S own Good-breeding is the best seciuity against 
 other people's lU-manners. 
 
 iKaimer^. — Addison. 
 
 ONE 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 woiild serve a Coui-tier for a week. There is in- 
 finitely more to do about place and precedency in a meeting 
 of Justices' wives, than in an assembly of Duchesses. 
 
 ■^KXlWtX^^ — Ciiniberl and. 
 
 THE 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, wlio, by 
 easy Manners, sweetness of Temper, and a vai-iety of 
 other undefinable qualities, possess the power of pleasing 
 I without any visible effort, without the aids of Wit, 
 "Wisdom, or Learning, nay, as it should seem, in their 
 defiance ; and this without appearing even to know that 
 they possess it. 
 
 iHamtf rS. — Addison. 
 
 THERE is no society or conversation to be kept up in 
 the world without Good-nature, or something which 
 must bear its appearance, and supply its place. For this 
 reason mankind have been forced to invent a kind of arti- 
 ficial humanity, which is what we express by the word 
 Good-breeding. 
 
 iEanuorS. — Addison. 
 
 GOOD-BREEDING shows itself most, where to an 
 ordhiary Eye it appears the least. 
 
 iHauiter^. — South. 
 
 I HA YE known men, grossly injured in their affaii-s, 
 depart pleased, at least silent, only because they were 
 injured in good Language, ruined in Caresses, and kissea 
 while they were struck imder the fifth Eib. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 M^rnmi. — Fuller. 
 
 IN Conversation use some, but not too much Ceremony : 
 it teaches others to be com-teous too. Demeanours are 
 commonly paid back in their own Coin. 
 
 iKamtCrg. — Fuller. 
 
 LET thy Carriage be friendly, but not foolishly free : 
 An miwary Openness causeth Contempt, but a Httle 
 Eeservedness, Eespect; and handsome Courtesy, Kindness. 
 
 Mrinxmi. — Sivift. 
 
 GOOD 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. 
 
 MKVimt^. — Churchill. 
 
 WHAT'S a fine Person or a beauteous Face, 
 ^ Unless Deportment gives them decent Grace ? 
 Bless'd mth all other requisites to please, 
 Some want the striking Elegance of Ease ; 
 The curious eye their awkward movement tires j 
 They seem hke Puppets led about by wires. 
 
 i^amtn:^. — Hume. 
 
 AMONG- well-bred people, a mutual Deference is 
 affected: Contempt of others disguised; Authority 
 concealed ; attention given to each in liis turn ; and an 
 easy stream of conversation maintained, without vehe- 
 mence, without mterraption, without eagerness for Victory, 
 and without any au-s of superiority. 
 
 MviVimxi. — Goldsmith. 
 
 CEEEMONIES are different in every country; but 
 true pohteness is eveiy where the same. Ceremonies, 
 which take up so much of om- attention, are only artificial 
 helps which Ignorance assumes in order to imitate Pohte- 
 ness, which is the result of Good Sense and Good Natm-e. 
 A person possessed of those quahties, though he had never 
 seen a Com-t, is truly agreeable ; and if without them, 
 would continue a Clown, though he had been all his hfe a 
 gentleman usher. 
 
 Mmnmi. — Chesterfield. 
 
 GOOD-BEEEDING carries along with it a Dignity, 
 that IS respected by the most petulant. Ill-breeding 
 mvites and authorises the FamiHarity of the most tunid. 
 
338 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 Mmmxi, — Chesterfield. 
 
 AN able man shows liis spirit by gentle Words and 
 resolute Actions : he is neither hot nor timid. 
 
 j^atmcrS. — Sterne. 
 
 HAIL ! ye small sweet Com-tesies of life, for smooth do 
 ye make the road of it, like Grace and Beauty wliich 
 beget inchnations to love at first sight ; 'tis ye who open 
 the door and let the stranger in. 
 
 ■^WXlXtti. — Zimmerman. 
 
 DO not think that your Learning and Grenius, your Wit 
 or Sprightliness, are welcome eveiy where. I was 
 once told that my Company was disagreeable because I 
 appeared so uncommonly happy. 
 
 ;Pamter^. — Swift. 
 
 PEIDE, Ill-nature, and want of Sense, are the three 
 great sources of Ill-manners : without some one of 
 these defects, no man wiU behave himself ill for want of 
 Experience, or what, in the language of fools, is called 
 knowing the World. 
 
 ^mmtxi, — Pope. 
 
 ALL manners take a tincture fi'om our own, 
 Or come discolom-'d thro' om- Passions shown; 
 Or Fancy's beam enlarges, mi-iltiphes, 
 Contracts, invests, and gives ten thousand dyes. 
 
 MmXWCi. — Fuller. 
 
 CONCEIT not so Ingh a notion of any, as to be bashftd 
 and impotent in their presence. 
 
 :Paratn:S. — Swift. 
 
 ONE principal point of good-breeding is to suit our 
 behaviour to the thi-ee several degrees of men ; our 
 Sviperiors, our Equals, and those below us. 
 
 ;^anntr^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The sauce to meat is Ceremony 
 (Meetmg were bare without it). 
 
 Iplanncr^. — La Sochefoucanld. 
 Geace is to the Body what Good Sense is to the Mind. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 i^VLXXXWCi, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 He coiild 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 tiling ; not moving 
 From th' cask to th' cushion : but commanding Peace 
 Even with the same austerity and garb 
 As he controlled the War). 
 
 JHamterS. — Steele. 
 
 WE see a world of pains taken, and the best years of 
 Life spent, m collecting a set of Thoughts in a col- 
 lege for the conduct of Life, and, after all, the man so 
 quahfled 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 pos- 
 sessed with these excellences, if he wants that inferior art 
 of life and behaviovtr called Good Breeding, 
 
 M^Vineti\ — Fuller. 
 
 AS the Sword of the best tempered metall is most 
 flexible ; so the truly generous are most phant and 
 com-teous ia their Behaviour to their inferiors. 
 
 ilPlannerS. — La Bruyere. 
 
 ALTHOUQ-H a man may possess Virtue, Talent, and 
 Good Conduct, he may nevertheless be disagreeable. 
 There is a certaiu fasliion in Manners, which is too often 
 neglected as of no consequence, but which frequently 
 becomes the basis on which the World wiU form a favour- 
 able or an unfavourable opiaion of you ; and ahttle atten- 
 tion to render them engaging and pohshed, wiU prevent 
 others from entertaining prepossessions respecting you, 
 which in their consequences may operate greatly to yom- 
 disadvantage. 
 
 M^nxWC^. — Chesterfield. 
 
 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 
 flexibihty : Strength alone will not do it. 
 
340 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTE ; 
 
 ^mxitXi. — Bishop Middleton. 
 
 VIRTUE itself offends, when coupled with forbidding 
 Manners. 
 
 i^mxini. — CoUon. 
 
 ALWAYS suspect a man who affects great Softness of 
 Manner, an unruffled Evenness of Temper, and an 
 Enunciation studied, slow, and dehberate. These things 
 are aU unnatural, and bespeak a degree of mental disci- 
 pline into which he that has no purpose of Craft or Design 
 to answer cannot submit to drill himself. The most suc- 
 cessful Knaves are usually of this description, as smootli 
 as Eazors dipped 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. 
 
 l^attnCT^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THEE.E are some persons on whom their Faults sit 
 well, and others who are made ungraceful by their 
 Good Quahties. 
 
 SSlKnUtXi. — La ItocTiefoucauld. 
 
 NOTHING- so much prevents our being natm-al as the 
 desire of appearing so. 
 
 ^mmti, — Greville. 
 
 UNBECOMING forwardness oftener proceeds from 
 Ignorance than Impudence. 
 
 iWanner^. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 AGE cannot wither her, nor Custom stale 
 Her infinite variety. 
 
 ;Plarrta3«. — Milton. 
 
 HERE Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 His constant lamp, and waves Ids purple wings. 
 Reigns here and revels ; not m the bought smile 
 Of Harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd, 
 Casual fruition ; nor in Court Amours, 
 Mii'd dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
 Or serenade, which the starv'd Lover sings 
 To his proud Fair, best quitted with disdain. 
 
 jWarrtagC. — Johnson. 
 
 MARRIAGE is the strictest tie of perpetual Friend- 
 sliip, and there can be no Friendship without Con- 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 34.1 
 
 fidence, and no Confidence without Integrity; and he 
 must expect to be -wretched, who pays to Beauty, Riches, 
 or Pohteness that regard which only Virtue and Piety can 
 claim. 
 
 J^arrtajje. — Thomson. 
 
 WHEEE Friendsliip full exerts her softest power, 
 Perfect Esteem enhven'd by Desire 
 luefiable, and Sympathy of Soul ; 
 Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will. 
 With boundless confidence : for nought but Love 
 Can answer Love, and render bhss secvire. 
 
 iWarrtafle. — Fuller. 
 Take the Daughter of a good Mother. 
 
 H^atrtage. — Lord Rochester. 
 
 MOTHERS who force their Daughters iato interested 
 Marriages, are worse than the Ammonites who sacri- 
 ficed their cliildren to Moloch — the latter undergoing a 
 speedy death, the former suffering years of Torture, but 
 too fi-equently leading to the same result. 
 
 i^arrtage. — Cowper. 
 
 THOU art the nurse of Virtue. In tliine arms 
 She snules, appearing as in truth she is, 
 Heav'n-bom 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 cahn of Truth-tied Love 
 Joy that her stormy Raptures never yield. 
 
 iilarrtage. — Shakespeare. 
 '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 wiU I draw 
 The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt ; 
 For she had Eyes, and chose me : No, 
 rU 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. 
 
34^ ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 ■j^nxXXK^t. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 REMEMBEE, that if thou marry for Beauty only, i| 
 
 thou bindest thyself all thy Life for that which per- !| 
 
 chance will neither last nor please thee one year; amd f 
 
 when thou hast it, it will he to thee of no price at all : for , 
 
 the Desire dieth when it is attained, and the Affection ' 
 
 perisheth when it is satisfied. j 
 
 J^arriafle. — Cowper. 
 
 OH friendly to the best piirsuits of man, I 
 
 Friendly to Thought, to Vu-tue, and to Peace, [ 
 
 Domestic Life in rural leisure pass'd ! i 
 
 Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets. [ 
 
 j^arrtaflC. — Sir Thomas Overlury. 
 
 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. 
 
 ■S^nXXin^t, — Addison. 
 
 AN Idol may be undeified by many accidental causes. 
 Marriage in particvdar is a kind of counter-apotheosis, 
 or a Deification inverted. — ^When a man becomes familial- 
 with his Goddess, she quickly sinks into a Woman. 
 f^WCtiK%t. — Butler. 
 
 FOE 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 ra-vishment. 
 But being against the Mind's consent ? 
 
 j^arrtacje. — Colton. 
 
 MATEIMONY is an engagement which must last the 
 hfe of one of the parties, and there is no retracting, 
 vestigia nulla retrorsum ; therefore, to avoid all the 
 horror of a Eepentance 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 jj 
 stand in need of a Wife, an Heiress, or a Niu-se ; is it 
 their Passions, their Wants, or theu- Infirmities, that , 
 sohcit them to wed ? Are they candidates for that happy 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 343 
 
 state, propter opus, opes, or opem? 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 wliich, well ascertained, would prevent many 
 Disappointments, often deplorable, often ridiculous, always 
 remediless. 
 
 ;lKarrtase. — Shakespeare. 
 Let still the woman take 
 ^Aji *lder than herself ; so wears she to liim, 
 "~^o sways she level in her Husband's heart. 
 
 ■ i35ai'rtaflC. — William Fenn. 
 
 NEVEE many but for Love, but see that thou lovest 
 what is lovely. 
 
 JMarrtaSC. — Justus Moser. 
 
 I 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 difBcidt 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 hke ; a word 
 from you at the right time vrill 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 hke 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 yoiu* husband wiU be so ; and when you have made 
 him happv you will become so, not in appearance but 
 reality. The skill required is not so great. Nothing 
 flatters a man so much as the happiness of liis 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 faU an 
 agreeable word. Your Education, which gives you an 
 immense advantage, ynR greatly assist you: and your 
 sensibiUty wiU become the noblest gift that Nature has 
 bestowed on you, when it shows itself in affectionate assi- 
 duity, and stamps on every action a soft, kiad, and tender 
 Character, mstead of wasting itself in secret repmings. 
 
 j^arrtafle. — Ovid. 
 Is you wish to marry suitably, marry your Equal. 
 
344- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TEUTE; 
 
 iMarrtage. — Shakespeare. 
 As for my Wife, 
 I would you had her Spirit in such another : 
 The third o' the world is yom-s : which with a snaffle 
 You may pace easy, but not such a Wife. 
 
 MsxviKQe. — Fuller. 
 
 I'N Marriage, he best bowls at the mark of his own Con- 
 tentment, who, besides the aim of his o^vn eye, is 
 directed by his Father, who is to give him the ground.' 
 
 i^arrt'afle. — Colton. 
 
 MAEEIAQE is a feast where the Grace is sometimes 
 better than the Dinner. 
 
 iKarrtagf . — Rogers. 
 
 Across the threshold led, 
 And every Tear kiss'd oif as soon as shed, 
 His house she enters, there to be a Light 
 Sinning within, when aU without is night ; 
 A guardian-Angel o'er his hfe presiding. 
 Doubling his Pleasure, and his Cares dividing ! 
 
 ii^arrtage. — Fuller. 
 
 JAEEES concealed are half reconciled ; which if gene- 
 rally known, 'tis a doiible task, to stop the breach at 
 home and men's mouths abroad. To this end, a good 
 Husband never pubUcly reproves his Wife. An open 
 reproof puts her to do penance before aU that are present; 
 after which, many study rather Eevenge than Eeforma- 
 tion. 
 
 jMarrtage. — Thomson. 
 
 What is the World to them, 
 Its pomp, its pleasm-e, and its nonsense aU ? 
 Who in each other clasp whatever fan* 
 High Fancy foi-ms, and lavish Hearts can wish, 
 Or on the mind, or mind-Ulumin'd face ; 
 Tru,th, Goodness, Honour, Harmony, and Love, 
 The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. 
 
 ii^arrtase. — Milton. 
 
 Let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blam'd enough elsewhere, but strive 
 In offices of Love, how we may hghten 
 Each other's biu^den, m om- share of Woe. 
 
OR, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 345 
 
 d^arrtagc. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 HAVE 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 obsei-vations : 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 ia Conversation, without thy instruc- 
 tion ; for Love needs no teaching, nor precept. 
 
 jaSarrtase. — Jean Paul. 
 
 " "TvON'T put on your left stocking to-morrow morning ; 
 
 U I must first mend a hole in it." " The author of 
 this history hereby asserts that he has often gone nearly 
 out of lus Mind in consequence of such like feminine In- 
 terludes. 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 Stockings at 
 him. He will, however, be satisfied if one faU 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 BaU-room ; one who, with a feehng at once 
 tender and discrimmating, 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 Umits his wishes." 
 
 M^VXmse. — Steele. 
 
 THE good Husband keeps liis Wife in the wholesome 
 ignorance of unnecessary Secrets. They will not be 
 starved with the ignorance, who perchance may sm-feit 
 with the knowledge of weighty Counsels, too heavy for 
 the weaker sex to bear. He knows httle who will teU hia 
 Wife all he knows. 
 
 jWarttajje. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I AM asham'd, that Women are so simple 
 To ofier War where they should kneel for Peace ; 
 Or seek for Eule, Supremacy, and Sway, 
 When they are boimd to serve, love, and obey. 
 
34-6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ■^KXtiKQt. — Lord Lyttelton. 
 
 EVN in the happiest choice, where fav'ring Heaven 
 Has equal Love and easy Fortune giv'n, — 
 Tliink not, the Husband gain'd, that all is done j 
 The prize of Happiness must still be won : ! 
 And, oft, the careless find it to their cost, j 
 The Lover in the Husband may be lost ; j 
 The Graces might, alone, his heart allure ; \ 
 They and the Virtues, meeting, must secure. I 
 
 ;lWan*taflC. — From the Italian. 1 
 
 THE admiral of Castile said, that he who marries a | 
 
 Wife and he who goes to War must necessarily sub- i 
 mit to every thing that may happen. 
 
 ;Plarrtage. — Johnson. I 
 
 MAEEIAGB is the best state for Man in general ; and j 
 every Man is a worse Man in proportion as he is 
 
 unfit for the Married State. ' 
 
 ii^arrtacje. — Fuller. 
 
 THE good Wife commaadeth her Husband, in any j 
 equal matter, by constantly obeying him. It was , 
 always observed, that what the Enghsh gained of the 
 French in battle by valour, the French regained of the 
 Enghsh in Cmming by treaties. So if the Husband 
 should chance by his power in his passion to prejudice 
 his Wife's right, she wisely knoweth, by compoimding 
 and complying, to recover and rectify it again. ^ 
 
 i^arrtase. — Steele. 
 
 IT is common to hear both sexes repine at then- change, i 
 relate the Happmess of their earlier years, blame the ; 
 FoUy and Eashness 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 Cehbacy but of Youth, the days of 
 novelty and improvement, of ardovir and of Hope, of 
 health and vigour of body, of G-aiety and Lightness of 
 Heart. It is not easy to surround life with any circvim- 
 stances in which Youth wiU not be delightfd ; and I am 
 afraid that whether married or xmmarried, we shall find 
 the vestiu-e of terrestrial Existence more heavy and cum- 
 brous the longer it is worn. j 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 347 
 
 iWarrtaflc. — Colton. 
 
 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. 
 
 ;:P[atrta50. — Terence. 
 
 IT does not appear essential that, in forming Matrimo- 
 nial Alliances, there should be on each side a parity 
 of Wealth ; but that in Disposition and Manners they 
 should be ahke. Chastity and Modesty form the best 
 dowry a parent can bestow. 
 
 ^nXtiK%t. — JBeattie. 
 
 NO Jealousy their dawn of Love o'er cast. 
 Nor blasted were their wedded days with Strife ; 
 Each season look'd dehghtful as it past, 
 To the fond Husband and the faithful Wife. 
 Beyond the lowly vale of shepherd hfe 
 They never roam'd ! seciire beneath the storm 
 Wluch in Ambition's lofty land is rife, 
 Wlaere Peace and Love are canker' d by the worm 
 Of Pride, each bud of Joy industrious to deform. 
 
 Piarrtagc. — Moore. 
 
 A SOMETHING-, light as ah-— a look, 
 A word unkind or wrongly taken — 
 Oh ! Love, that tempests never shook, 
 
 A breath, a touch hke 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 Com-tslup's smiling dayj 
 And Voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round ah. they said ; 
 Till fast dechning, 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 thoxigh its waters ne'er coiild sever, 
 Yet, ere it reach the plain below. 
 
 Breaks into Floods, that part for ever. 
 
348 ILL USTBJ TIONS OF TR UTE ; 
 
 ilPtarriagg. — Spenser. 
 
 FROM that day forth, in Peace and joyous Bliss 
 They Uv'd together long without debate ; 
 Ne private Jarre, ne spite of Enemies, 
 Could shake the safe assurance of their state. 
 
 i^arrtafle. — Shakespeare. 
 
 A Father 
 Is, at the nuptial of his Son, a guest- 
 That best becomes the table. 
 
 iWarrtase. — Flutarch. 
 
 MEN that marry "Women very much superior to them- 
 selves, are not so tridy Husbands to their Wives, as 
 they are unawares made Slaves to their Portions. 
 
 ifflarrtagC. — Martial. 
 
 PEEPETUAL Harmony theu- bed attend, 
 And Venus still the weU-match'd pair befrienr'! 1 
 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 ! 
 
 i^arrtafle. — Milton. 
 
 IT is a less breach of Wedlock to part, with wise and 
 quiet consent, betimes, than still to foil and profane 
 that Mystery of Joy and Union with a polluting sadness 
 and perpetual distemper. 
 
 jWarrtagC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THY 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 stonns, the day in cold, 
 Wliile thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, 
 And craves no other Tribute at thy hands, 
 But Love, fair Looks, and true Obedience ; 
 Too httle Payment for so great a Debt. 
 
 jWarrtage. — Seiden. 
 
 MAEEIAG-E is a desperate tiling : the Frogs in Mso^p 
 were extremely wise ; they had a great mind to some 
 Water, but they would not leap into the Well, because 
 they covdd not get out again. 
 
OB, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 349 
 
 n^arrtajje. — Smft. 
 
 THE reason why so few Marriages are happy, is because 
 young Ladies spend their time in making Nets, not in 
 making Cages. 
 
 i^KXViK%t, — Shakespeare. 
 
 HAPPY in this, she is not yet so old. 
 But she may learn ; and happier than this, 
 She is not bred so duU but she can learn ; 
 Happiest of all, is, that her gentle Spirit 
 Commits itself to yours, to be directed. 
 
 iKarrtage. — 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. 
 
 iKatrtagE. — Simonides. 
 Of eartlily goods, the best is a good Wife ; 
 A bad, the bitterest Curse of human life. 
 
 iMarrtage. — Massiiion. 
 
 EVERY effox't is made in forming Matrimonial Alliances 
 to reconcile matters relating to Fortune, but very little 
 is paid to the Congeniality of Dispositions, or to the 
 Accordance of Hearts. 
 
 li^arrtafle. — Milton. 
 
 HAIL Wedded Love, mysterious law, true source 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise of aU things common else. 
 By thee adult'rous Lust was di-iven fi-om men 
 Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee 
 Founded in Reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 Relations dear, and aU the Charities 
 Of Father, Son, and Brother first were known. 
 
 i^arrtafle. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MARRIAG-E is a matter of more worth 
 Than to be dealt in by attorneyship. 
 For what is Wedlock forced, but a HeU, 
 An age of Discord and continual Strife ? 
 Whereas the contrary bringeth forth Bhss, 
 And is a pattern of Celestial Peace. 
 
3 50 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTR ; 
 
 ;P[arrtafle. — Shakespeare. 
 QcOD the best maker of all Marriages. 
 
 iJlarrta^e. — Vanlrugh. 
 
 IF Idleness be the root of all Evil, then Matrimony's 
 good for something, for it sets many a poor Woman to 
 work. 
 
 :Parrtafle. — Shakespeare. 
 Hasty Marriage seldom proveth well. 
 
 :Ptan:taja;e. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Eeasokt, my son, 
 Should choose himself a Wife ; but as good reason, 
 The Father (aU whose joy is nothing else 
 But fair Posterity) should hold some counsel 
 In such a business. 
 
 H^arrtaflE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 SUCH 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 Eebel ? 
 And graceless Traitor to her loving lord ? 
 
 M^txiK^t, — Fuller. 
 
 FIEST get an absolute Conquest over thyself, and then 
 thou wilt easily govern thy Wife. 
 
 iParrtaflg. — Pamell. 
 
 YET here and there we grant a gentle Bride, 
 Whose temper betters by the father's side ; 
 Unhke the rest that double human care, 
 Fond to reheve, or resolute to share : 
 Happy the Man whom thus his staa-s advance ! 
 The Curse is general, but the Blessing chance. 
 
 iWarrtage. — Sir Walter Ealeigh. 
 
 THE best time for Marriage wiU be towards thirty, for || 
 as the younger times are unfit, either to choose or to I 
 govern a Wife and family, so, if thou stay long, thou shalt 
 hardly see the education of thy children, who, being left 
 to strangers, are in efiect lost ; and better were it to be 
 imborn than ill-bred: for thei-eby thy Posterity shall 
 either perish, or remain a shame to thy Name. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 351 
 
 iPlarriaflE. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WITHIN the bond of Marriage, tell me, Brutus, 
 Is it excepted I should know no secrets 
 That appertain to you ? Am I yotu'self 
 But, as it were, on sort, or limitation ; 
 To keep with you at Meals, comfort your bed, 
 And talk to you sometimes ? DweU. I but in the suburbs 
 Of your good Pleasure ? If it be no more, 
 Portia is Brutus' Harlot, not his Wife. 
 
 ;;3ffartBrif0m. — CoUon. 
 
 HE that dies a Martyr, proves that he was not a Knar^j 
 but by no means that he was not a Fool. 
 
 jSftartgrirom. — Colton. 
 
 TWO things are necessary to a modem Martyr, — some 
 to pity, and some to persecute, some to regret, and 
 some to roast him. 
 
 C5e iWaiSter. — Steele. 
 
 IT is not only paying wages, and giving commands, that 
 constitutes 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. 
 
 ^VLiitti anU J^er&ant^. — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou art a Master, be sometimes Bhnd ; if a Servant, 
 sometimes Deaf. 
 
 Mmxi anif C0iTrc{itujniS.— Colton. 
 
 SOME 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 Concep- 
 tions, but who attempt to carry them into Execution with 
 Httle Means. These two descriptions of men might suc- 
 ceed if united, but as they are usually kept asunder by 
 Jealousy, both fad. It is a rare thing to find a combina- 
 tion of great Means and of great Concep|^ns ia one 
 Mind. 
 
 jK^tftflCrttg. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 MINDS of moderate Cahbre ordinarily condemn every 
 thing which is beyond their range. 
 
352 ILLUSIRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 S&t^iattit^. — La Bniyere. 
 
 WE meet with few utterly dull and stupid Souls : the 
 Sublime and Transcendent are still fewer ; the gene- 
 rahty of Mankind stand between these two extremes : the 
 interval is filled with multitudes of ordinary Geniuses, but 
 all very useful, and the ornaments and supports of the 
 Commonwealth. 
 
 J^eJjtacrttg. — Colton. 
 
 THEEE are cucumstances 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. 
 
 i^ClaitcI)0ll). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh Melancholy ! 
 Who ever yet could sound thy bottom ? find 
 The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish Carrack 
 Might eas'hest harbour in ? 
 
 iM^IaitC^Olg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I HAVE of late (but wherefore, I know not) lost all my 
 Mirth, forgone all custom of Exercises : and, indeed, 
 it goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly 
 fi'ame, the Earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this 
 most excellent canopy, the Au% look you, this brave o'er- 
 hanging Firmament, this majestical Eoof fretted with 
 golden Fire, why, it appears no other tiling to me, hiin a 
 foul and pestilent congregation of Vapom's. 
 
 iKemnrg. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THOU, Uke 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. 
 
 iMmortt. — JByron. 
 
 BUT 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 feai-s, 
 Such moment pours the Grrief of years. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 353 
 
 fHcmnrg. — Byron. 
 
 BUT 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 wMcli bring 
 Back on the Heart the weight which it would iling 
 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, 
 litriking the electric chain where^vith we are darkly bound ; 
 And how and why we know not, nor can trace 
 Home to its cloud this Lightning of the Mind, 
 l^ut feel the shock renew' d, nor can efface 
 The blight and blackening wliich it leaves behind, 
 Which out of things familiar, imdesign'd, 
 "When least we deem of such, calls up to view 
 Tlie Spectres whom no exorcism can bind. 
 The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, 
 The mom-n'd, the loved, the lost— too many ! yet how tow ! 
 
 ilSlcmOrg. — Goldsmith. 
 Eemembeance wakes with all her busy train, _ 
 Swells at my Breast, and tm-ns the Past to pain. 
 
 ijHcittal ^nsttt^lj. — Byron. 
 
 FOE. Pleasures past I do not grieve, 
 Nor Perils gathering near ; 
 My greatest Grrief is that I leave 
 No thing that claims a Tear. 
 
 liSnttal ^ttgUl^I). — Shakespeare. 
 Alas, how is't with you ? 
 That you do bend your eye on Vacancy, 
 And with the incorporal an- do hold discourse? 
 Torth at your eyes your Spirits wildly peep ; 
 And, as the sleeping Soldiers in the alarm, 
 Your bedded hair, like Life in excrements. 
 Starts up, and stands on end. 
 
 ilHcntal ^nsUtSl^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN I would pray and think, I think and pray 
 To several subjects : Heaven in my moutli. 
 As if I did but only chew His name : 
 And in my Heart, the strong and swelhng evil 
 Of my ConceiJtion. 
 
 A A 
 
354 ILLTISTBATIONS OF TRUTE ; 
 
 ilHcntal ^ngtttjSIj. — Byron. 
 
 I FLY, like a bird of the air, 
 In search of a home and a rest ; 
 A bahn for the sickness of Care : 
 A Bliss for a bosom imblest. 
 
 fKcntal — Shakespeare. 
 
 TELL me, what is't that takes from thee 
 Thy stomach, Pleasm-e, and thy golden Slee]i ; 
 Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the Earth ; 
 And start so often, when thovi 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 mm-mur tales of iron Wars, 
 And all the cmTents of a heady Eight. 
 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 distm-bed stream : 
 And in thy face strange motions have appear' d, 
 Such as we see, when men restrain their Breath 
 On some great sudden haste. O what Portents are these? 
 
 fHnttal ^ItflUt^Ij. — Milton. 
 
 O MiOHT I here 
 In solitude live Savage, in some glade 
 Obscur'd, where highest woods impenetrable 
 To star or sun-light, spread their umbrage broad 
 And brovra as evening : cover me ye Pines, 
 Ye Cedars, with innumerable boughs 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more. 
 
 i^Cntal ^nCJUtS"!). — Shalcespeare. 
 
 What is in thy Mind, 
 That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks that aigli 
 Ej-om the inward of thee ? One, but painted thus, 
 ^^''ould be interpreted a thing perplex'd 
 Beyond self-exphcation. 
 
 iKcntal '^ncjltt^I). — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Mr Muid is troubled like a Eountain stin-'d j 
 And I myself see not the bottom of it. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 355 
 
 i^lClltal ^tlflUt^I). — Shakespeare. 
 
 His flaw'd Heart, 
 (Alack, too weak the conflict to support !) 
 'Twixt two extremes of passion, Joy and Grief, 
 Burst smilingly. 
 
 Rental ^nsutSf). — iiilton. 
 
 RETIRING- from the popular noise, I seek 
 This tmfrequented place to find some ease, 
 Ease to the body some, none to the Mind 
 From restless thoughts, that hke a deadly swarm 
 Of Hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone, 
 But rush upon me thronging, and present 
 Time past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 
 ;;P«ltal ^Wfltll^l^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Geiet'd I, I had but one ; 
 Chid T 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 ? 
 Wlio smeered thus, and mir'd with infamy, 
 I might have said, no part of it is mine ; 
 This Shame derives itself from unknown loins : 
 But mine, and mine I lov'd, and mine I prais'd. 
 And mine that I was proud on, m in e so much. 
 That I myself was to myself not mine. 
 Valuing of her ; why, she, — O, she is fall'n 
 Into a pit of Ink, that the wide Sea 
 Hath drops too few to wash her clean again j 
 And Salt too httle which may season give 
 To her foul tamted Flesh ! 
 
 i^toxtal ^nflUt^i). — Shakespeare. 
 
 YET could I bear that too ; well, very well : 
 But there, where I have garner'd up my Heart ; 
 Where either I must hve, or bear no Life ; 
 The fountain from the which my cmTent 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 yomig and rose-lipp'd Cherubia ; 
 Ay, there, look grim as Hell ! 
 
356 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 ■^mtKl Unguis"!). — Shakespeare. 
 
 BETWEEN the acting of a dreadful thing, 
 And the first motion, all the interim is 
 Like a Phantasma, or a hideous di'eam : 
 The Genius, and the mortal instruments, 
 Are then in council ; and the state of a man, 
 Like to a httle Kingdom, suffers then 
 The nature of an insurrection. 
 
 MtnXa ^nflUtS'T), — Byron. 
 
 To be thus — 
 Grey -hair' d with anguish, hke these blasted phies, 
 Wrecks of a single Winter, barkless, branchless, 
 A blighted tnmk upon a ciu'sed root. 
 Which but supplies a feeling to decay — 
 And to be thus, eternally but thus, 
 Having been otherwise! Now furrow' d o'er 
 With wrmkles, plough' d by moments, not by Years j 
 And hours — all tortm''d into ages — hours 
 Which I outUve ! Ye toppling crags of Ice ! 
 Ye Avalanches, whom a breath draws down 
 In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me! 
 I hear ye momently above, beneath. 
 Crash with a fi-equent Conflict ; but ye pass, 
 And only faU on tilings that still would live. 
 
 I^nttal ^ItCJttt^Tj. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 OTHAT I were upon some desert coast ! 
 Where howhng 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 ! 
 
 ;^«ttal ^IlflUl^]^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Had it pleas'd Heav'n 
 To try me with Affliction ; had he ram'd 
 All kinds of sores, and shames, on my bare Head j 
 Steep' d me in Poverty to the very hps ; 
 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 vmmoving finger at, — 
 O! O! 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 3 57 
 
 j3rl«ittal ^ItStlt^i). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Pk'tthee, lead me iii : 
 There take an inventory of all I have, 
 To the last penny ; 'tis the King's : my robe, 
 And my integrity to Heaven, is aU 
 I dare now call my own. 0 Cromwell, Cromwell, 
 Had I but serv'dmy God with half the zeal 
 I serv'd my King, he would not in mine age 
 Have left me naked to mine Enemies. 
 
 iiHcntal 'SnfftUSlj. — Byron. 
 
 LOOK on me in my Sleep, 
 Or ■watch my watcliings — Come and sit by me ! 
 My SoUtude is Solitude no more. 
 But peopled with the Furies ; I have gnash' d 
 My teeth in darkness till returning mom. 
 Then cursed myself till sunset ; — have pray'd 
 For Madriess as a blessing — 'tis denied me. 
 jMtlttal Sltgut^lj. — Shakespeare. 
 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 liis Breast hard ; and anon, he casts 
 His eye against the Moon ; in most strange postures 
 We have seen him set himself. 
 
 i^ental ^n%\ni\). — Shakespeare. 
 
 0 VANITY ot 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 lie pricks and wounds 
 With many Legions of strange fantasies ; 
 Which, in their tlu'ong and press to that last hold, 
 Confound themselves, 
 
 iilental flngitt^]^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 CANST thou not minister to a Mind diseased ; 
 Pluck from the Memory a rooted Sorrow ; 
 Raze out the written troubles of the Brain ; 
 And, with some sweet oblivious Antidote, 
 Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stulT, 
 Wliich weighs upon the Heart ? 
 
358 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR TITE; 
 
 JMcrcJJ. — Spenser. 
 
 SOME clarkes doe doubt in their devicefull art 
 Whether this Heavenly thing whereof I treat, 
 To weeten Mercie, be of Justice part, 
 O]' di-awne forth fi-om 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 vras bred, and bom of heavenly race, 
 From thence pour'd down on men by influence of Grace. 1 
 ^tXtja, — Moore. 
 
 OF God she sung, and of the mild 
 Attendant Mercy, that beside 
 His awful throne for ever smil'd, 
 
 Eeady, with her white hand, to guide 
 His bolts of Vengeance to their prey — 
 That she might quench them on their way ! 
 
 iPtCrCg. — Shakespeare. ' 
 
 THE quality of Mercy is not strain' d : 
 It droppeth, as the gentle rain from Heaven I 
 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 ; 
 Biit Mercy is above this scepter'd sway, 
 It is an attribute to God himself; 
 And eartlily power doth then show hkest God's, 
 When Mercy seasons Justice. 
 
 Consider this, — 
 That, in the com-se 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. 
 
 j^Crcg. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 How would you be, 
 If He, which is the top of Judgment, should 
 But judge you as you are ? Oh, tliink on that, 
 And Mercy then will breathe within your hps, 
 Like man new made. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 359 
 
 ■^tXt^, — Shakespeare. 
 Wilt thou draw near the nature of the Gods ? 
 Draw near them then in being merciful : 
 Sweet Mercy is Nobility's true badge. 
 
 j$tn.'tt. — La RocJiefoucauld. 
 
 ELEVATION is to Merit what Dress is to a handsome 
 person. 
 
 j^Crtt. — La Bocliefoucauld. 
 
 THERE is Merit without Elevation, but there is no 
 Elevation without some Merit. 
 
 ■^txiX. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE mark of extraordinary Merit is to see those most 
 envious of it constrained to praise. 
 
 ■^txit. — La Bruyere. 
 
 I AM told so many iR 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 echpse that of others. 
 
 ■^ttit, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE art of being able to make a good use of moderate 
 abihties wins Esteem, and often confers more Reputa- 
 tion than real Merit. 
 
 :l^n:tt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Natxtee creates Merit, and Eortime brings it into play. 
 
 J^nrit. — Queen Christina. 
 Meeit is bom with Men ; happy those with whom it dies. 
 
 iKtnU. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THE Little Mmd who loves itself, vdll wi-ite and think 
 with the vulgar ; but the Great Mind wiU be bravely 
 eccentric, and scorn the beaten road, from universal 
 Benevolence. 
 
 ^mH. — Fuller. 
 
 HAED, rugged, and dull natures of youth acqmt them- 
 selves afterwards the Jewells of the Countrey, and 
 therefore their dulnesse at first is to be borne with, if 
 tliey be dihgent. That schoolmaster desei-ves to be 
 beaten liimself who beats Nature in a boy for a fault. 
 And I question whether all the whipping in the world 
 c;m make their parts, which are natui'ally sluggish, rise 
 one minute before the houre Nature hath appointed. 
 
S r>o ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTH; 
 
 H^tnU. — Qallus. 
 
 WE in vain summon the Mind to intense application, 
 ■vviien the Body is in a languid state. ' 
 
 ;;^tnfi. — Colton. 
 
 IF the most skUful Musician in the world were placed 
 before an unstrung or broken instrument, he could 
 not produce the Harmony which he was accustomed to 
 do when that instrimieut was perfect ; nay, on the con- 
 trary, the sounds would be discordant : and yet it would 
 be manifestly most illogical to conclude, fi-om such an 
 effect, that the powers of the Musician were impaired 
 I since they merely appeared to be so from the imperfection 
 ' of the instrument. Now what the instrument is to the 
 ! Musician, the Brain may be to the Muad, for aught we 
 know to the contrary ; and to piu-sue the figure, °as the 
 Musician has an existence distinct from that of tlie in- 
 strument, 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 anv 
 arrangement of Matter. We perceive, indeed, the pro- 
 perties of Matter wonderfully modified in the various 
 thmgs of the Universe, which strike om- senses with the 
 force of their Subhmity or Beauty ; but ia all these we 
 recognise certain radical and common properties, that 
 bear no conceivable relation to those mysterious capacities 
 of Thought and of Feehng, referable to that some.aing 
 which, to designate and distinguish from Matter, we tenn 
 Mmd. In this way, I conceive, the Common Sense of 
 Mankind has made the distinction which every where 
 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 i 
 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 tl'.e 
 essence of Matter. I 
 iHtnU. — Anon. 
 
 THE blessing of an active Mind, Avhen it is in good | 
 condition, is, tliat it not only employs itself, but is 
 almost sure to be the means of giving wholesome Employ- 
 ment to others. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 35 1 
 
 JHtllU. — Novalis. 
 
 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 
 sliuu the restless tumult of noisy Companies and the 
 discussion of petty Interests. 
 
 i^mtf. — Colton. 
 
 WE may also douht ahout the existence of Matter, as 
 learnedly and as long as we please, as some have 
 done before us, and yet we shall not estabhsh the existence 
 of Matter by any such dubitations ; but the moment we 
 begin to doubt about the existence of Mind, the very act 
 of doubting proves it. 
 
 ;;^{ttlJ. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 INTREPIDITY is an extraordinary strength of Mnid, 
 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 theu' Reason under the most sm-prisiug and 
 terrible circumstances. 
 
 iWt'nir. — Terence. 
 
 NO man was ever so completely skilled in the conduct 
 of Life, as not to receive new information from Age 
 and Experience ; insomuch that we find ourselves really 
 ignorant of what we thought we understood, and see cause 
 to reject what we fancied our truest Interest. 
 
 H^mif. — La JBruyere. 
 
 THE Mind, hke all other things, will become impaired ; 
 the Sciences are its food; they nourish, but at the 
 same time they consume it. 
 
 i^tlltf. — Balo. 
 
 AS 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. 
 
 %\it iifttlttf. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 'Tis but a base ignoble Mind, 
 
 That mounts no higher than a Bird can soar. 
 
362 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTE; 
 
 Iffilmtr. — Swift. 
 
 A "WISE Man is never less alone than when he is alone. 
 
 fHtnif. — Seneca. 
 
 AS the SoU, however rich it may be, cannot be pro- 
 ductive without Culture, so the Mind without Culti- 
 vation can never produce good Fruit. 
 
 ilHtlltf. — Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 FRIVOLOUS Cui'iosity about trifles, and laborious 
 attention to httle objects wliich neither requu-e nor 
 deserve a moment's thought, lower a Man, who from 
 thence is thought (and not imjustly) incapable of greater 
 Matters. Cardinal de Retz very sagaciously marked out 
 Cardinal Chigi for a httle 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. 
 
 HKmlf. — Seneca. ! 
 
 TO see a man fearless in Dangers, untainted with Lusts, | 
 happy in Adversity, composed in a tumult, and laugh- 
 ing at all those things which are generally either coveted 
 
 or feared, aU men mxist acknowledge that this can be I 
 
 nothing else but a beam of Divinity that influences a , 
 
 mortal body. I 
 
 IBltnif. — La Rochefoucauld. . 
 
 WE find means to cure Folly, but none to i-eclaim a \ 
 distorted Mind. 
 
 fHtnU. — Pope. 
 
 I BELIEVE it is no wrong observation, that persons of 
 Grenius, 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 under- 
 standing are principally delighted with the little niceties 
 and fantastical operations of Art, and constantly think 
 that finest wliich is least natm-al. 
 
 IHtntf. — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou desirest Ease, in the first place take care of the 
 Ease of thy Mind ; for that will make aU other suffer- 
 ings easy : But notliing can support a Man whose Mind is 
 wounded. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 363 
 
 ;^UTlf. — ShaJcespeare. 
 'Tis the Mind that mates the Body rich ; 
 And as the Sun breaks thi-ough the darkest clouds, 
 So Honour peereth 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 ? 
 
 MiyOS^ — Goldsmith. 
 
 A MIND too vigorous and active serves only to consume 
 the Body to wliich it is jomed, as the richest Jewels 
 are soonest found to wear then* settings. 
 
 H^lUlf. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 FOE Nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
 In Thews and Bulk ; but as this Temple waxes, 
 The inward service of the Mind and Soul 
 Q-rows wide withal. 
 
 j^tntf. — Byron. 
 ?rpiS thus the spirit of a single Mind 
 
 i. Makes that of multitudes take one direction, 
 As roU the waters to the breathing wind. 
 
 Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection ; 
 Or as a httle 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 way of your G-reat Men o'er httle. 
 
 MivdS. — Colton. 
 
 HE that has no resom-ces of Mmd, is more to be pitied 
 than he who is in want of necessaries for the Body ; 
 and to be obhged to beg our daily Happmess from others, 
 bespeaks a more lamentable poverty than that of him who 
 begs his daily bread. 
 
 MivOS. — Anon. 
 
 A WEAK Mmd smks under Prosperity, as well as 
 under Adversity. A strong and deep Mind has two 
 highest tides,— when the Moon is at the full, and when 
 there is no Moon. 
 
 CIjC Min^. — Young. 
 A Sotri without Eeflection, hke a Pile 
 Without Inhabitant, to ruin rims. 
 
364 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 iI5(mlT. — Goldsmith. 
 
 FOR 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. 
 
 ilHtnlf. — Tounff. 
 
 Otte outward act, indeed, admits resti-aint, 
 'Tis not in things o'er Thought to domineer ; 
 Gruard well thy Thoughts : our Thoughts are heard in 
 Heaven. 
 
 Mints, — Cicero. 
 
 WHATEVEE that be which thinks, which under- \ 
 stands, which wills, which acts, it is sometliing 
 celestial and Divine ; and, upon ■ that accoiuat, must 
 necessarily be eternal. 
 
 ilSltntf. — Brown. 
 
 THERE is a Rabble amongst the Gentry, as well as 
 the Commonalty, 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 theu' Follies. 
 
 Mints SHncuItttJateif. — Shakespeare. 
 
 'Tis an unweeded Garden, 
 That grows to Seed ; things rank, and gross in nature. 
 Possess it merely. 
 
 fHt^antl^r0pB. — Bi/ron. 
 
 WARPED by the world to 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 curs'd those Virtues as the cause of ill. 
 And not the traitors who betray'd him stiU ; 
 Nor deem'd that gifts bestow'd 011 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 365 
 
 ■Si^iitXiti. — Colton. 
 
 SMALL Miseries, like small Debts, hit vis in so many 
 places, and meet us at so many tm-ns 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. 
 
 ■^i<itxiti. — Greville. 
 
 IT is often better to have a great deal of Harm happen 
 to one than a httle : a great deal may rouse you to 
 I remove, what a httle wiU only accustom you to endure. 
 
 ■S&,iitX\ti. — Sliakespeare. 
 
 MEN'S natures wrangle with inferior things, 
 Though great ones are their object. 'Tis even so ; 
 For let our Finger ache, and it indues 
 Our otlier healthful membei's ev'n to that sense 
 Of Pain. 
 
 i^i^txiti, — 'Plutarch. 
 
 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. 
 
 iHt^^rU. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Famine is in thy cheeks. 
 Need and Oppression starveth in thy eyes, 
 I Upon thy back hangs ragged Misery, 
 1 The world is not thy Friend, nor the world's law. 
 
 j^{sf0rtUUE. — Addison. 
 
 A Soui; exasperated in ills, falls out 
 With every thing, its Friend, itself. 
 
 ^iiiaxixnxti. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Thosk who bear Misfortunes over meekly 
 Do but persuade mankind that they and Want 
 Ai-e all too fitly match' d to be disjoin' d, 
 And so to it they leave them. 
 
 ;Plt^fortunt. — La Eochefoueauld. 
 
 WE have all of us sufhcient Fortitude to bear the Mis- 
 fortunes of others. 
 
 i^t'^forttmC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Sick in the World's regard, wretched and low. 
 
66 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB TJTIl ; 
 
 ^^i^faxtxint, — Shakespeare. 
 
 THOU wert better in thy Grave than to answer vrith 
 thy uncovered body this extremity of the Skies.— Is 
 Man no more than this ? Consider him well : Thou owest 
 the Worm no silk, the Beast no liide, the Sheep no wool, 
 ti'.e Cat no perfume : unaccommodated Man is no more 
 but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art. 
 
 ^^t^fnrtim^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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, , 
 AVliich the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. | 
 
 iJEt^f0rtmte. — Shakespeare. 
 A MOST poor man, made tame by Fortune's blows ; 
 Who, by the art of known and feeling Sorrows, 
 Am pregnant to good Pity. 
 
 4iE{^f0fttme. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Myselp, 
 
 Who had the world as my Confectionaiy, 
 
 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. 
 
 iPHl^£0rtime. — Shakespeare. 
 
 This world to me is hke a lasting Storm, 
 
 Whirring me from my Friends. 
 
 fHt^fartuiie. — MaUet. 
 
 Who hath Bot known Ill-fortune, never knew 
 Himself, or his own Virtue. 
 
 ilEl^ fortune. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT, are my doors opposed against my passage? 
 Have I been ever free, and must my house 
 Be my retentive Enemy, my G-aol ? 
 The place, which I have feasted, does it now, 
 Like all Mankind, show me an fron Heart ? 
 
OB, THIl TGS NEW AND OLD. 367 
 
 f&,iiiQ L'tunC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 To some kind of men, 
 Their graces se rve tliem but as enemies. — 
 O, wliat a Wo 'Id is this, when what is comely 
 EnTenoms him that bears it ! 
 
 JBtt^fO :i\\X\t. — Shakespeare. 
 jrpiS certain Grea ness, once fallen out with Fortune, 
 
 X Must fall out \ cith men too : What the declined is. 
 He shall as soon rea i in the eyes of others. 
 As feel in his own fa U : for men, hke Butterflies, 
 Show not then- meal; wings, but to the summer ; 
 And not a man, for t eing sunply Man, 
 Hath any Honour ; 1 'ut honour for those Honours 
 That are without hui ., as Place, Eiches, Favour, 
 Prizes of accident as Dft as Merit : 
 Which when they fal I, as being shppery standers, 
 The Love that lean'd on them as slippery too, 
 Do one pluck down i mother, and together 
 Die in the fall. 
 
 l^t^fO' I'tune. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O, SICK to Death : 
 My legs, hke lo£ den branches, bow to the earth, 
 Wilhng to leave their Burden. 
 
 ;JH{^£01 'X\int. — From the French. 
 
 MISFORTUNES are, in Moi'als, what bitters are in 
 medicine : each is at fii-st disagreeable ; but as the 
 bitters act as corrol orants to the stomach, so Adversity 
 chastens and amehoi ates the disposition. 
 
 ■SSiiiiax\ xnxt^. — From the French. 
 
 IT is much better to endeavour to forget one's Misfor- 
 tunes, than to spJkak often of them. 
 
 Aw^Z. — Shakespeare. 
 j O, WHO shall beheve, 
 But you misuse fee Eeverence of yom- place ; 
 Employ the couw tenance and Grace of Heaven, 
 As a false favouri'te doth his Prince's name, 
 In deeds dishond)urable ? 
 
 alSoB. — Dry den. 
 j The Scum 
 
 That rises uprBOst, when the Nation boila. 
 
368 ILLUSTRATIONS O 
 
 TRUTH; 
 
 ^otSiXKiion. — Ska] 
 
 THEY are as sick that siu-feit vj 
 that starve with nothing. It jr 
 therefore, to be seated in the mel 
 sooner by white hairs, but Competj 
 
 ;i^DtfWatujn. — La 
 
 MODEEATION is hke Tempeij 
 to eat more, but are afraid of j 
 
 j^ntre^ta. — steel 
 
 \ MODEST person seldom fail/ 
 xJL of those he converses with, bl 
 man who does not appear to be pll 
 
 ;P0tfCS"tM. — Fol 
 
 That modest Grl 
 That chastity of look which seen! 
 A yeU of pm-est light o'er all hei^ 
 
 ^Dtf^^tj). — Shal 
 
 I ASK, that I might wakd 
 And bid the cheek be rej 
 Modest as Morning when s| 
 The youthful Phoebus. 
 
 MatstStQ. — Sh^ 
 
 THE chariest maid is prol 
 If she unveil her beaut^J 
 Virtue itself scapes not call 
 The canker galls the infanti 
 Too oft before then- buttons 
 And in the morn and liquicj 
 Contagious blastments are 
 Be wary then : best Safety ] 
 
 iJflDUCStt). — Sh\ 
 
 A 
 
 Of spirit so still and quiet, tl 
 Blush'd at herself. 
 
 MERE Bashfulness without 
 Merit without Modesty insol 
 has a double claim to acceptance.] 
 
 respeare. 
 
 I'ith too much, as they 
 Is no mean Happiness, 
 m : Superfluity comes 
 sncy lives longer. 
 
 loeTiefoucauld. 
 lance : we should wisli 
 ijm'ing our health. 
 
 Me. 
 
 to gain the Goodwill 
 [ecause nobody envies a 
 jased with Imnself. 
 
 ice subdu'd my soul, 
 is to hang 
 Beauties. 
 
 Vkespeare. 
 
 pn Reverence, 
 idy with a blush, 
 tlie coldly eyes 
 
 tiTcespeare. 
 
 [digal enough, 
 
 to the Moon : 
 lunnious strokes; 
 1 of the Sprmg, 
 , be disclosed ; 
 I dew of Yoiitli, 
 Qost hnminent. 
 Ihes ui Fear. 
 
 talcespeare. 
 liAlDEN never bold ; 
 |hat her motion 
 
 ^aglies. 
 
 Iviorit is awkward: and 
 lent. But Modest Merit 
 
OR, TKTi VGS NJBW AND OLD. 369 
 
 MODESTY is tc 
 Pictm-e; giving 
 
 A 
 
 mend Eloquenci 
 a man can be posse 
 ^vhich it accompanii 
 
 Max \tii^. — LaJB 
 
 Merit as Shades to Figures ui a 
 it Strength and Beauty. 
 
 i^oJlfe^tl). — Addison. 
 JUST^nd reasf mable Modesty does not only recom- 
 ^ ■', hut sets off every great talent wMch 
 
 ssed of : it heightens all the Vhtues 
 hke the Shades in Paintings, it 
 
 raises and rounds elvery Figure, and makes the colours 
 
 more beautiful, thou 
 without. 
 
 Mat 
 
 almost at his pleasui'e 
 pleasm-e to you anew 
 to stir up lustful Tho 
 should tliink of your 
 soul, yoiu" thoughts v\ 
 filth that is not fit to 
 a foot, he will not eas 
 
 igh not so glaring as they would be 
 
 CjSty. — Baxter. 
 
 YOU little know -n hat you have done, when you have 
 first broke the 1 jounds of Modesty; you' have set 
 open the door of you^- fancy to the Devil, so that he can, 
 ever after, represent the same sinful 
 he hath now access to yom- fancy 
 lights and Desires, so that when you 
 calling, or of your God, or of your 
 ill be worse than swmish, upon the 
 be named. If the Devil here get in 
 ily be got out. 
 
 iill flttH. — Franklin. 
 "REMEMBER thati Money is of a prolific, generating 
 can beget Money, and its offspring 
 0 on. Five sliiRings turned is six : 
 sn and threepence ; and so on tUl it 
 Pounds. The more there is of it, 
 every turning, so that the profits 
 cer. He that kills a breeding Sow, 
 ring to the thousandth generation. 
 
 11 nature. Money 
 can beget more, and 
 tm-ned again it is sev 
 becomes a Hmidred 
 the more it produces 
 rise quicker and quid 
 destroys aU her Ofi'sp 
 
 He that mm-ders a Ci own, destroys all that it might have 
 produced, even Scores 1 " " 
 
 TO cm'e us of oiir u 
 seriously consider 
 Money wiU not 
 many Evils there' are 
 these the worst. 
 
 Ma 
 
 Money is a good 
 
 of Pounds. 
 
 ITCy. — CoUon. 
 
 amoderate Love of Grain, we should 
 how many goods there are that 
 pm'cljiase, and these the best; and how 
 that Money will not remedy, and 
 
 llCy. — Bouliours. 
 ervant, but a dangerous Master. 
 
 B B 
 
370 ILLUSTBATIONS OB TBUTH; 
 
 on. 
 
 MoneVi Etme. — Johns 
 
 MONEY and Time are the heaviest burdens of Life, 
 and the unhappiest of all mortalU are those who have 
 more of either than they know how tfo use. 
 MovkIS. — Colto 
 
 THEEB are two principles of esta 
 Morals ; first, that Self-interest i 
 aU our actions, and, secondly, that 
 
 their value. Now there are som , 
 
 maxims are not tenable, because th ey are not true; for 
 some of the noblest energies of G-rati tude, of Affection, of 
 Courage, and of Benevolence, are n )t resolvable into the 
 first. If it be said indeed that the! je estimable qualities 
 mav after all be traced to Self-inte .rest, because all the 
 
 )Hshed acceptance in 
 the main-spring of 
 tility is the test of 
 cases where these 
 
 duties that flow from them are a 
 Gratification to those that perform t 
 savours rather too much of an ident 
 is only a round-about mode of inforr 
 men will act virtuously. Take care 
 the worldling, and the Cliristian say 
 taken the best care of Number One, ' 
 Number One shall go to Heaven : 
 fuU of those same selfish bemgs who 
 done good to others, have as const 
 selves. I humbly conceive, theref( 
 nearer the Trxith to say that all me 
 being good, than that all men are go ' 
 to the standard of Utihty, this is 
 human actions that looks too muc 
 there are occasions where a man ma 
 General Good by the smallest Indi 
 there are others where he may ma? 
 dividual Sacrifice, and yet produc 
 Good. If indeed the Moral Philoso 
 do aU Ills work with the smallest 
 tools, and would wish to cope wit 
 sopher, who has explained such wi 
 simple causes of Impulse and of Grs. 
 must look out for maxims as univers' 
 to which he would apply them. Pe, 
 by afiirming with me that— men ar, 
 wiU naturally lead him to another cr 
 are the same, they can have but one 
 
 lOurce of the liighest 
 hem ; this I presime 
 ical proposition, and 
 ning us that virtuous 
 of Number One, says 
 s so too ; for he has 
 who takes care that 
 that blessed place is 
 by having constantly 
 mtly gratified them- 
 ire, that it is much 
 [n have an Interest in 
 •d from Interest. As 
 mode of examining 
 to the event; for 
 J effect the greatest 
 [vidual Sacrifice, and 
 ke the greatest In- 
 but httle General 
 jher is determined to 
 possible quantity of 
 L the Natural Pliilo- 
 inders from the two 
 ivity, in this case he 
 [al as those occasions 
 •haps he might begin 
 . the same, and this 
 [)nclusion, that if men 
 jcommon principle of 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 371 
 
 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 
 undertaking, I trust they will not fail me in the execution 
 of another. 
 
 ;^0rntnB;. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HOW bloodily the Sun begins to peer 
 Above yon busky hill ! the day looks pale 
 At his distemperature. 
 
 The southern Wind 
 Doth play the Trmnpet to liis purposes ; 
 And, by his hollow whisthng in the leaves, 
 Foretells a Tempest, and a blustering day. 
 
 ;P(:0rntnfl. — Milton. 
 
 NOW 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. 
 
 ^QXnm%. — Byron. 
 
 BUT mighty Nature bounds as from her birth. 
 The sun is in the Heavens, and life on Earth ; 
 Flowers in the Valley, splendom" in the Beam, 
 Health on the Gale, and freslmess in the Stream. 
 
 ;^Orntns. — JBeattie. 
 
 BUT 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 hoUow mm'mxir of the Ocean tide ; 
 The Hum of Bees, the linnet's lay of Love, 
 And the full Choir that wakes the \miversal Grove. 
 
 ;:9fl0rnmS. — 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 tli' horizon laugh'd to see the joyous sight ; 
 He with his tepid rays the Eose renews. 
 And licks the drooping leaves, and dries the Dews. 
 
374 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 ^axnmt^. — Scott. 
 
 WHAT Tarious scenes, and, O ! what scenes of Woe, 
 Are witness' d by that red and strugghng beam! 
 The fever'd Patient, from his pallet low, 
 
 Thi'ough crowded hospitals beholds it stream ; 
 The rained Maiden trembles at its gleam. 
 
 The Debtor wakes to thought of gyre and jail. 
 The Love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 
 
 The wakeful mother, by the ghmmering pale, 
 Trims her sick Infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. 
 
 j^Onttng. — Byron. 
 
 THE Mom is up again, the dewy Morn, 
 With breath all incense, and with cheeks all bloom, j 
 Laughing the clouds away with playful Scorn, 
 And hving as if Earth contain' d no tomb, — 
 And glowing into Day. 
 
 j^0nttns. — Milton. 
 
 AWAEE 
 
 My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, 
 Heav'n's last best G-ift, my ever new delight, 
 Awake ; the Morning shines, and the fi'esh 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 bahny reed. 
 How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee 
 Sits on the bloom. 
 
 ;:P0r0^«tC^^. — Bacon. 
 
 MEN possessing minds wliich are morose, solemn, and 
 inflexible, enjoy, in general, a greater share of Dignity 
 than of Happiness. 
 
 jKflttb^^. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE should often have reason to be ashamed of our 
 most briUiant Actions, if the world could see the 
 Motives from which they spring. 
 
 Cl^C iWOUntam ^ir. — Byron. 
 
 Oh ! there is sweetness in the Mountain Air, 
 
 And Life, that bloated Ease can never hope to share. 
 
 PtuItttuU^. — Colton. 
 
 THE Mob is a monster with the hands of Biiarcus, but 
 the head of Polyphemus, strong to execute, but blind 
 to perceive. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 373 
 
 %l)t iEuItttutft. — Cowper. 
 
 SOME shout liim, and some hang upon his car 
 To gaze in 's eyes and bless him. Maidens wave 
 Theii- 'kerchiefs, and old Women weep for joy ; 
 While others not so satisfied unhorse 
 The gilded Equipage, and turning loose 
 His Steeds, usui'p a place they well deserve. 
 %\^Z jEuItltlllfC. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 YOTJE affections are 
 A sick man's appetite, who desu'es most that 
 Wliich would increase his Evil. He that depends 
 Upon your favours, swims with fins of Lead, 
 And hews down Oaks with Eushes. Hang ye ! Txust ye? 
 With every minute you do change a mind ; 
 And call him noble, that was now your hate, 
 Him vile, that was your G-arland. 
 
 '^\)t i^ttltttllXfC. — Cowper. 
 
 OH, 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 aU his Canvas set, and inexpert 
 And therefore heedless, can withstand thy Power ? 
 
 W^t ilHtlltitutfC. — Dryden. 
 
 THE Babble gather round the Man of News, 
 And hsten with their mouths wide open ; some 
 TeU, some hear, some judge of News, some make it, 
 And he that hes most loud, is most believed. 
 EIjC ;Pf[ttItttuift. — Colton. 
 
 IT is an easy and a vulgar thing to please the Mob, and 
 not a very arduous task to astonish them ; but essen- 
 tially to benefit and to improve them, is a work fraught 
 with Difficulty, and teeming with Danger. 
 
 W^Z i^ttltttuUc. — STiakespeare. 
 
 LOOK, as I blow this Eeather from my face, 
 And as the air blows it to me agahi, 
 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. 
 
374 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 C5« ;^ttlttt«3je. — Shakespeare. 
 I "WILI, not choose what many men desire, 
 Because I will not jump with common spu-its, 
 And rank me with the barbarous Multitude. 
 
 %\t iPtuItttuirc. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OtTE shppery Peo^jle, 
 Whose lore is never link'd to the Deserver, 
 Till his deserts are passed. 
 
 iWultttutf«. — Colfon. 
 
 THE Mob, Hke 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. 
 
 €^0 ;^UItttutf0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 Sxm. 
 
 iKttltttutfe. — Milton. 
 
 What is the People but a Herd confus'd, 
 A miscellaneous Kabble, who extol 
 
 I Tlmigs vulgar, and, well weigh' d, scarce worth the praise ? 
 
 I They praise, and they admire they know not what. 
 And know not whom, but as one leads the other ; 
 And what dehght to be by such extoll'd, 
 To hve upon their Tongues, and be their talk. 
 Of whom to be disprais'd were no smaU Praise? 
 
 ! Ci)e j^ultttulf^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 ToTJ have many Enemies, that know not 
 Why they are so, but, hke the village Curs, 
 Bark when their fellows do. 
 
 Elje ;;9flultttttir£. — Mackenzie. 
 
 MANKIND in the gross is a Gaping Monster, that ' 
 loves to be deceived, and has seldom been disap- | 
 pointed. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 375 
 
 n^XtltttttUf . — Thomson. 
 
 Inconstant, blind, 
 Deserting Friends at need, and dup'd by Foes ; 
 Loud and seditious, when a Chief inspir'd 
 Their headlong fury, but, of hun depriv'd. 
 Already Slaves that lick'd the scourging hand. 
 
 W^t iKuItttlt^fC. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 ?rTIIS ever thus : Indulgence spoils the base: 
 
 JL Raising up Pride, and lawless Turbulence, 
 Like noxious vapours from the fulsome Marsh 
 When Morning shines upon it. 
 
 i^flurlJCr. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Beyond the infinite and boundless reach 
 Of Mercy, if thou didst tliis deed of Death, 
 Art thou damn'd. 
 
 i^urmurintf. — Colton. 
 
 MURMTJE, at nothing : if our iUs are reparable, it is 
 ungrateful ; if remediless, it is vain. 
 
 jKus'lf. — Shakes-peare. 
 
 DO but note a wild and wanton herd. 
 Or race of youthful and unliandled colts, 
 Fetclung mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 
 Wliich is the hot condition of their Blood ; 
 If they but hear perchance a Trumpet sound, 
 Or any air of Music touch then' ears, 
 You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 
 Then' savage eyes turned to a modest gaze, 
 By the sweet power of Music : Therefore, the poet 
 Did feign, that Orpheus drew Trees, stones, and floods ; 
 Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, 
 But Music for the time doth change his nature. 
 Tlie man that hath no Music in himself, 
 Nor is not moved with Concord of sweet Sounds, 
 Is fit for Treasons, stratagems, and s]ioils ; 
 The motions of Ills Spu-it are dull as night, 
 And his affections dark as Erebus : 
 Let no such man be trusted. 
 
 iHu^tr. — Collins. 
 Mtrsic, sphere-descended maid, 
 Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid ! 
 
376 ILLU8TBATI0N8 OF TBUTE; 
 
 i^tt^tC. — Oreville. 
 
 A GOOD ear for Music, and a taste for Music are two 
 very difierent tilings which, are often confounded: 
 and so is comprehending and enjoying every object of 
 Sense and Sentiment. 
 
 i^U^tC. — SJiaTcespeare. 
 
 WHEN griping Q-rief the Heart doth wound, 
 And doleful Dumps the Mind oppress. 
 Then Music, with her silver sound, 
 
 With speedy help doth lend redress. 
 
 ;;^Xt^tC. — Montgomery. 
 
 Theotjgh every pulse the Music stole, 
 And held sublime communion with the Soul, 
 Wrung from the coyest Breast the imprison' d sigh. 
 And kiadled raptm-e in the coldest Eye. 
 
 ii^U^tC. — Pope. 
 
 BY 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 apphes ; 
 Or, when the Soul is press'd with cares, 
 Exalts her in enliv'ning au's. 
 Warriors she fii-es with animated soimds, 
 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. 
 
 i^U^U. — Beattie. 
 
 IS there a Heart that Music cannot melt ? 
 Alas ! how is that rugged heart forlorn ? 
 Is there, who ne'er those mystic transports felt 
 Of Sohtude and Melancholy born ! 
 He needs not 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 hfe in Mammon's du'ty mine ; 
 Sneak with the scoundi-el Fox, or grunt with glutton Swine. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 ^Wiit. — Moore. 
 
 MUSIC ! — oh ! liow faint, how weak, 
 Language fades before thy spell ! 
 Why should Feehng 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, and not betray ! 
 
 j^flu^tC. — Moore. 
 
 FOR 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--nind, over the waters blowing, 
 Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too ! 
 
 ;;^lt^tC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 PREPOSTEROUS ass ! that never read so far 
 To know the cause why Music was ordained ! 
 Was it not to refresh the mmd of man, 
 After his studies, or his usual Pain ? 
 
 ■^Xl^it. — Shakespeare. 
 This Music crept by me upon the waters ; 
 Allaying both their Fury, and my Passion, 
 With its sweet Air. 
 
 iKs^ta'JJ. — Chesterfield. 
 
 A Proper Secrecy is the only Mystery of able Men ; 
 Mystery is the only Secrecy of weak and cunning 
 ones. 
 
 M^^tU-Q. — Colton. 
 MrSTEET magnifies Danger, as a fog the Sun. 
 
 iWts^tojI. ~ 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 aU Mysteries in the world are wholly supported 
 by hard and unintelligible terms, so you must take care 
 to chi'isten your Wines by some hard names, the farther 
 
3/8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 fetched so much the better ; and this pohcy will serve to 
 recommend the most execrable stuff in all your cellar. A 
 plausible name to an indifferent Wine is what a gaudy 
 title is to a ITop, or fine clothes to a Woman : it helps to 
 conceal the defects it has, and bespeaks the world in its 
 faTom-. Men naturally lore to be cheated, and provided 
 the imposition is not too bare-faced, wiU meet you halt 
 way with all their hearts. 
 
 ^arrafit) iKtnlf. — 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. 
 
 iJarrflJu j^tn^f. — La Bnyere. 
 
 HHOET-SiaHTED people,— I mean such who have 
 O but narrow Conceptions, never extended beyond their 
 own httle sphere, — cannot comprehend that universality 
 of Talents which is sometimes observable in one person. 
 They allow no soKdity in whatever is agreeable : or when 
 they see in any one the graces of the Body, activity, sup- 
 pleness and dexterity, they conclude he wants the endow- 
 ments of the Mind, Judgment, Prudence, and Perspicacity. 
 Let History say what it will, they will not beUeve that 
 Socrates ever danced. 
 
 dTaH of i^attnn^. — Bacon. 
 
 IN 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 : in the Dechning Age of a state, 
 Mechanical Arts and Merchandise. 
 
 JTall rrf ^atton^. — Byron. 
 
 THERE is the moral of all human tales ; 
 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, 
 First Pi-eedom, and then Grlory — when that fails, 
 Wealth, Vice, Corruption — Barbarism at last. 
 And History, with all her volumes vast. 
 Hath but one page. 
 
 fivXwxt, — Milton. 
 In contemplation of created things 
 By steps we may ascend to God. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 379 
 
 Mature. — Tomg. 
 
 LOOK Natui-e through, 'tis revolution all ; 
 AH change; no Death. Day follows Night ; and Night 
 The dying Day ; Stars rise, and set, and rise ; 
 Earth takes tli' example. See, the Summer gay, 
 With her green chaplet, and ambrosial flowers, 
 Droops into pallid Autumn : Winter grey, 
 Horrid with frost, and tm-bulent 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, 
 Eecalls the first. All, to reflourish, fades ; 
 As in a wheel, all sinks, to reascend. 
 Emblems of Man, who passes, not expires. 
 
 ij^atur^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HATH not old custom made this hfe more sweet 
 Than that of painted Pomp ? Are not these woods 
 More free fi-om peril than the envious Com-t ? 
 Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
 The Season's diiference ; as, the icy fang. 
 And churlish chiding of the Winter's wind ; 
 Wiich, when it bites and blows upon my body, 
 Even till I shrink with cold, I smUe, and say, — 
 This is no flattery ; these are Counsellors 
 That feelingly persuade me what I am. 
 And tins our Life, exempt from public haunt, 
 Fiiids tongues in trees, books in the running Brooks, 
 Sermons in Stones, and good in every thing. 
 
 ^atur«. — Thomson. 
 
 Who can paint 
 Like Nature ? Can Imagination boast, 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? 
 Or can it mix them with that matcliless skill. 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every bud that blows ? 
 
 Ilaturc. — Thomson. 
 
 NATURE ! G-reat Parent ! whose unceasing hand 
 RoHs round the seasons of the changeful yeai", 
 How mighty, how majestic are thy works ! 
 With what a pleasing Dread they sweU the soul ! 
 That sees astonish' d! and astonish' d sings ! 
 
38o ILLUSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 iSaturC. — Young. 
 
 Who lives to Nature, rarely can be poor ; 
 Who lives to Fancy never can be rich. 
 
 i^atttr^. — Byron. 
 
 NOT 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 Spu'it, in whose honour shrines are weak, 
 TJprear'd of Human Hands. Come, and compare 
 Columns and idol-dweUings, Goth or G-reek, 
 With JSTatm'e's realms of worsliip. Earth and Air, 
 Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer ! 
 i^atttre. — Byron. 
 
 LIVE not the Stars and Mountains ? Are the waves 
 Without a Spirit ? Are the drooping 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 hoiu-, and merge oui- Soul in the great shore. 
 
 ^kXxxXZ. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 natm-al Bosom find ; 
 Many for many virtues excellent. 
 None but for some, and yet all different. 
 
 ^attir0. — Byron. 
 
 WHERE rose the Mountains, there to him were friends; 
 Where roU'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 imto liim 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 svmbeams on the lake. 
 
 Mature. — Cowper. 
 
 Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd 
 Please daily, and whose novelty survives 
 Long Knowledge and the scrutiny of Years. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 381 
 
 jiaturc. — Byron. 
 
 THEEE'S Music in the sighing of a reed ; 
 There's Music m. the gushing of a rill ; 
 There's Music in all things, if men had ear? ; 
 Their Earth is but an echo of the spheres, 
 
 ^atxtr^. — Beattie. 
 
 0 NATURE, how in every charm supreme ! 
 Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! 
 0 for the voice and fire of Seraphim, 
 To sing thy Grlories with devotion diie ! 
 Blest be the day I 'scaped the wranghng crew, 
 Erom Pyrrho's maze, and Epicurus' sty ; 
 And held high converse with the godlike few, 
 Who to th' enraptur'd Heart, and ear, and eye, 
 Teach Beauty, Yirtue, Truth, and Love, and Melody. 
 
 jjSature. — Pope. 
 
 SEE, tlrrough this Air, this Ocean, and this Eai'th, 
 All matter quick, and bm-sting into birth. 
 Above, how high ! progressive life may go ! 
 Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! 
 Tast chain of Being ! wliich from Grod began, 
 Natm-e's ethereal, human, angel, man. 
 Beast, Bhd, Eish, Insect, what no eye can see, 
 No glass can reach, from infinite to Thee, 
 Ei'oni Thee to notliing. 
 
 ^attire. — Shakespea/re. 
 
 0, MICKLE is the powerful grace, that hes 
 In Herbs, Plants, Stones, and theh true qualities : 
 Eor nought so vile, that on the earth doth Hve, 
 But to the Earth some special good doth give ; 
 Nor aught so good, but, strain' d from that fair use, 
 Eevolts from true bhth, stmnbling on abuse ; 
 Virtue itself turns Vice, being misapphed ; 
 And Vice sometimes by action's dignified. 
 Mature. — Anon. 
 
 ANYTHING- may become Natm-e to Man: the rare 
 tiling is to find a Nature that is truly natural. 
 
 ^atttfC autf ^rt. — Bryden. 
 
 BY viewing Natm-e, Nature's handmaid, Art, 
 Makes mighty tilings from small beginnings grow ; 
 Thus Eishes fii'st to Shipping did impart. 
 Their tail the Eudder, and their head the Prow. 
 
382 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^KixiXt anlf flrt. — Anon. 
 
 NATTJEE is miglaty. Art is mighty. Artifice is weak. 
 Eor 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. Ai'tifice is the work 
 of mere Man ia the imbecihty of his mimic understanding. 
 
 (SnnU Mature. — Dryden. 
 
 GOOD Sense and Grood 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 Eeason. ' 
 
 il03att6«. — Oreville. 
 
 THEEE is in some men a dispassionate NeutraHty 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. 
 
 W^Z iJegattb^. — Slenstone. 
 ^HAT 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. 
 
 3^5^ ^eflattfaC. — Lavater. 
 rE that has no Eriend and no Enemy is one of the 
 vidgar ; and without Talents, Powers, or Energy. 
 
 iJeJn^jpajJCr. — Bishop Some. 
 
 THE foDies, vices, and consequent miseries of multi- 
 tudes, displayed in a Newspaper, are so many ad- 
 monitions and warnings, so many Beacons, continually 
 biirning, to tm-n others from the Eocirs fm. which the}' 
 have been shipwrecked. 
 
 W)t ^tfll^t — Byron. ^ 
 
 Ail is gentle : .nought 
 Stirs rudely ; but congenial with the Night, 
 Whatever walks is gliding Uke a Spiiit. 
 
 €f)e ^istft, — Byron. 
 
 In her starry shade 
 Of dim and soKtary LoveUness, 
 I learn the language of another World. 
 
 w 
 
 w 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 383 
 
 H 
 
 ^j^igljt. — Shakespeare. 
 OW sweet the MoonligM sleeps upon this bank ! 
 Here will we sit, and let tlie sounds of Music 
 Creep in om- ears ; soft Stillness, and the Night 
 Become the touches of sweet Harmony. 
 Look, how the floor of Heaven 
 Is thick inlay' d with patterns of bright gold ; 
 There's not the smaUest Orb, which thou behold st, 
 But m his motion hke an Angel sings, 
 Stm quiring to the young-ey'd Cherubuns ; 
 Such Harmony is in immortal sounds ! 
 But whilst this muddy vestm-e of decay 
 Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it. 
 
 ^i^X. — Byron. 
 5 mis Midnight : on the Mountains brown 
 
 JL The cold, round Moon shines deeply down; 
 Blue roU the waters, blue the sky 
 Spreads like an Ocean hung on high, 
 Bespangled with those isles of hght, 
 So wildly, sphituaUy bright ; _ _ 
 Who ever gazed upon them shining, 
 And turned to Earth without repining, 
 Nor wish'd for Wings to flee away. 
 And mix with their eternal ray. 
 
 |JlflT)t. — Young. 
 
 THE Sun went down in clouds, and seem'd to mom-n 
 The sad necessity of his retm-n ; 
 The hollow wind, and melancholy ram, 
 Or did, or was imagin'd, to complain : 
 The tapers cast an inauspicious hght ; 
 Stars there were none, and doubly dark the Night. 
 
 ^Jtflijt. — Spenser. 
 
 WHERE griesly Night, with visage deadly sad, 
 That Phoebus' chearefuU face dust never vew, 
 And in a foule blacke pitchy Mantle clad, 
 She Andes forth commmg fi-om her darksome mew, 
 Where she aU day did hide her hated hew ; 
 Before the dore her yron Charet stood 
 Ah-eady harnessed for a jom-ney new ; 
 And coleblacke steeds ybome of HeUish brood, 
 That on their rusty bits did champ as they were wood. 
 
38+ ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTS; 
 
 ^t^Tjt. — Spenser. 
 
 UNDER thy mantle black ther hidden lye 
 Light-shonning Thefte, and traiterous Intent, 
 Abhorred Bloodshed, and yile Pelony, 
 Shameful Deceipt and Daunger imminent, 
 Eowle Horror, and eke Hellish Dreriment. 
 
 ^tgljt. — Spenser. 
 
 NOW gan the golden Phoebus for to steeps 
 His fierie face in billowes of the west, 
 And his faint Steedes watred in Ocean deepe, 
 Whiles from their joui-nall labours they did rest. 
 W^Z i^lflljt. — Milton. 
 Why 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 
 EuU-orb'd the Moon, and with more pleasing Hght 
 Shadowy sets-olf the face of things ; in vain, 
 If none regard. 
 
 CTje iSt'tjIjt. — Byron. 
 
 HOW sweet and soothing is this hour of Cahn ! 
 I thank thee, Night ! for thou hast chased away 
 These horrid bodements wliich, amidst the tln-ong, 
 I could not dissipate : and with the Blessing 
 Of thy benign and quiet influence 
 Now wiU I to my couch, although to rest 
 Is almost wronging such a Night as this. 
 
 W^t — Toung. 
 
 NIG-HT, sable Groddess ! from her ebon throne, 
 In rayless Majesty, now stretches forth 
 Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumb'riug world. 
 Silence, how dead ! and Darkness, how profound ! 
 Nor eye, nor hst'ning ear, an object finds ; 
 Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the gen'ral pulse 
 Of Life stood stiU, and Nature made a pause j 
 An awful pause ! prophetic of her end. 
 
 ^ttjl)t» — STiakespeare. 
 
 DAEK Night, that from the Eye his function takes, 
 The ear more qixick of Apprehension makes ; 
 Wherein it doth impafr the seeing sense. 
 It pays the hearing double recompense. 
 
on, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 385 
 
 ^i^i. — SoutJiey. 
 
 Ho"w 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 Griory yonder Moon chvine 
 
 EoUs tlu'ough the dark blue depths; 
 
 Beneath her steady ray 
 
 The desert circle spreads, 
 Like the round Ocean, ghdled with the sky. 
 
 iSltjl^t. — Young. 
 
 DAEKNESS has divmity for me ; 
 It strikes thought inward ; it drives back the Soul 
 To settle on herseh', 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 stretclit out 
 "Twixt Man and Vanity : 'tis Reason's reign, 
 And Virtue's too ; these tutelary shades 
 Are Man's asylum from the tainted tlu-ong. 
 Night is the good man's friend, and guardian too j 
 It no less rescues Virtue, than uaspires. 
 
 Wi^Z — Young. 
 
 THIS sacred Shade, and Sohtude, 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, hke other objects, black by Night. 
 By Night an Atheist half-believes a G-od. 
 
 EIjC ^\^X, — Young. 
 
 HOW 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 inlay' d ! 
 Built with divine Ambition. 
 
 CIjE jItflljttnualB. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THE Nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
 When every Goose is cackhng, 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 ! 
 
 c c 
 
386 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH ; 
 
 I 
 
 W^t j^tgl^tmflale. — Milton. 
 
 Sweet Bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, 
 Most musical, most Melancholy ! 
 
 K'^t i^tClijtingalC. — Southern. 
 Thus perch'd all Night alone in shady grores, 
 Tunes her soft voice to sad complaints of Love, 
 Making her life one great harmonious woe. 
 
 W^t jj^tgljttnflafe. — Milton. 
 
 ONiaHTINaALE, that on yon bloomy spray 
 Warblest at eve, when aU the woods are stiU ; 
 Thou with fresh hope the Lover's heart doth fdl, 
 Wlule the jolly hours lead on propitious May. 
 Thy hquid notes that close the eye of Day, 
 
 First heard before the shallow Cuckoo's bill, 
 Portend success in Love ; 0, if Jove's wiU 
 Have Unk'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 caU thee his mate, 
 Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 
 
 ^Oijtltg. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 New Customs, 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow' d. 
 
 ^9at]^^. — Shakespeare. 
 The gods are deaf to hot and peevish Vows ; 
 They are polluted OiFerings, more abh'>''r'd 
 Than spotted Hvers in the Sacrifice. || 
 
 Ofijift^ltce. — Goldsmith. 
 
 FILIAL Obedience is the first and greatest requisite of | j 
 a State; by this we become good subjects to our |i 
 Emperors, capable of behaving with just subordination to 
 our superiors, and grateful dependents on Heaven; by 
 this we become fonder of Marriage, in order to be capable 
 of exacting Obedience from otliers in oiu- tm-n : 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 387 
 
 (Sljctftcnce. — Shahespeare. 
 Let them obey that know not how to rule. 
 
 (91)It2att0n. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 WE are always much better pleased to see those whom 
 we have obhged, than those who have obliged us. 
 
 «9JiS'0Vl)att0n. — Lavater. 
 
 HE alone is an acute Observer who can observe 
 minutely without being observed. 
 
 SFuIgar cai>^tmacy. — Sivift. 
 
 THERE are few, very few, that will own themselves in 
 a Mistake. 
 
 ^mall <^fitntti. — OreviUe. 
 
 AVERY Small Offence may be a just cause for great 
 Resentment: it is often much less the particular 
 instance which is obnoxious to us, than the proof it 
 carries with it of the general tenour and disposition of 
 the Mind from whence it sprung. 
 
 (^CrupatfOn. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
 EVERY base Occupation makes one sharp in its prac- 
 tice, and duU in every other. 
 
 @£5ce. — Shakespeare. 
 
 CoTTLD great men thxmder 
 As Jove himself does, Jove woiild ne'er be quiet, 
 For ever pelting, petty Officer, 
 
 Would use his Heaven for thunder : nothing but thunder. — 
 Merciful Heaven ! 
 
 Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 
 
 Spht'st the unwedgeable and gnai-led Oak, 
 
 Than the soft Myrtle!— 0 ! but Man, proud Man, 
 
 Drest in a Httle brief Authority — 
 
 Most ignorant of what he's most assured, 
 
 His glassy essence, — ^hke an angry Ape, 
 
 Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, 
 
 As make the Angels weep. 
 
 <9jitnt0n. — Swift. 
 
 THAT was excellently observed, say I, when I read a 
 passage in an Author, where his Opinion agrees with 
 mnie. 
 
388 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^9jptni0n. — Colton. 
 
 IT will be possible to have one set of Opinions for tlie 
 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 Sensoriiun. For Opinions, hke showers, 
 are generated in high places, but they invariably descend 
 into low ones, and ultimately flow down to the People as 
 the rains unto tlie Sea, 
 
 CajpmuJIt. — Cicero. 
 
 NO liberal man wotdd unpute a charge of Unsteadiness 
 to another for having changed his opinion. 
 
 Ojpjportuntty. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 Take the instant way ; 
 Tor Honour travels in a strait so narrow, 
 Wliere 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 gaUant Horse fallen in first rank, 
 Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 
 O'er-run and trampled on. 
 
 Ojjjportuntty. — Shahespeare. 
 
 UNRULY 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 Opportmiity 
 Or kills his hfe, or else his quahty. 
 O, Opportunity ! thy Guilt is great : 
 'Tis thou that execut'st the traitor's Treason ; 
 Thou set'st the Wolf where he the Lamb may get ; 
 Wlioever plots the Sin, thou 'point'st the Season ; 
 'Tis thou that spm-n'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 ; 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 389 
 
 Thou foul abettor ! thou notorious bawd ! 
 
 Thou plantest Scandal and displacest laud : 
 
 Thou ravisher, thou Traitor, thou false thief, 
 
 Thy Honey tui-ns to gall, thy joy to grief! 
 
 Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, 
 
 Tliy private feasting to a pubHc fast ; 
 
 Tliy smootliing titles to a ragged name ; 
 
 Thy sugar' d tongue to bitter Woi-mwood taste : 
 
 Thy violent Vanities can never last. 
 
 How comes it then, vile Opportunity, 
 
 Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee ? 
 
 When veUt thou be the humble suppHant's friend, 
 
 And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd? 
 
 When wdt thou sort an horn- great strifes to end ? 
 
 Or free that soul which Wretchedness hath cliain'd ? 
 
 Give Physic to the sick, Ease to the pain'd ? 
 
 The poor, lame, bhnd, 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 j 
 
 Advice is sporting while Infection breeds ; 
 
 Thou grant' st no time for charitable deeds ; 
 
 Wrath, Envy, Treason, Eape, and Miirder's rages, 
 
 Thy heinous hom-s wait on them as their pagt's. 
 
 When Truth and Vh-tue have to do with Thee, 
 
 A thousand crosses keep them fr-om thy aid ; 
 
 They buy thy help : but Sin ne'er gives a fee, 
 
 He gratis comes ; and thou art well appay'd, 
 
 As well to hear as grant what he had said. 
 
 Guilty thou art of Murder and of Theft ; 
 
 Guilty of Perjm-y and Subornation ; 
 
 Guilty of Treason, Forgery, and Shift ; 
 
 Guilty of Incest, that abomination : 
 
 An accessary by thiae inchnation 
 
 To all sins past, and aU that are to come, 
 
 From the Creation to the General Doom. 
 
 «9jpjp0rtunttS. — Greville. 
 
 THERE sometimes wants only a stroke of Fortmie to 
 discover numberless latent good or bad quahties, 
 which would otherwise have been eternally concealed : as 
 words written with a certain hquor appear only when 
 applied to the Fire. 
 
390 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 <9j)J)0rtum'ta. — Shakespeare. 
 rpHEEE is a Tide in the affairs of men, 
 X Which, taken at the flood, leads on to Fortmie • 
 Omitted, all the voyage of then- Life ' 
 Is boimd in shallows, and in miseries : 
 And we must take the Cui-rent when it sei-ves, 
 Or lose oiu- ventures. 
 
 C0jpjJ0l-tunitg. — SJiaTcespeare. 
 
 He had not din'd : 
 Ihe 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 stufi'd 
 These Pipes and these conveyances of our Blood 
 With Wine and feeding, we have suppler Sotds. 
 
 e^JIJJOrtttnttM. — ShaTcespeare. 
 A iiTTXE FiEE is quickly trodden out ; 
 Which, being suffer' d, rivers cannot quench, 
 
 <Sp})0rttm{tg. — Fliny. 
 
 NO man possesses a genius so commandmg that he can 
 attain Eminence, unless a subject suited to Jiis 
 talents should present itself, and an opportunity occm- 
 for their development. 
 
 C^jpjlOrtunity. — From the Latin. 
 
 APPOETUNITY has Hair in front, behind she is 
 \J bald ; if you seize her by the forelock, you may hold 
 her, but, if suffered to escape, not Jupiter hunself can 
 catch her again. 
 
 &]?^UMia\\. — Tacitus. 
 
 ADESIEE to resist Oppression is implanted in the 
 natm-e of Man. 
 
 K\)Z Orator. — Fi •tor. 
 
 AND 'tis remarkable, that they 
 Talk most that have the least to say. 
 Yom* dainty Speakers have the curse. 
 To plead their causes down to worse : 
 As Dames, who native Beauty want. 
 Still \\g\iex look the more they paint. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 39 » 
 
 Orator. — Spenser. 
 
 THEEEFOEE the viilgar did about liim flocke, 
 Aud cluster thicke unto his leasings vaine, 
 (Like fooUsh FUes about an Honey-orocke,) 
 In hope by him great benefite to gaine, 
 Aud uncontrolled Freedome to obtaine. 
 
 E^C Orator. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BEING- season'd with a gracious voice, _ 
 Obscures the show of evil. In Rehgion, 
 Wliat damned en-or, but some sober brow 
 Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
 Hiding the grossness with fau' Ornament ? 
 
 Ovtfcr autr 0^n:^ft^^«. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 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 ftdl 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 liome ; 
 Others, like Merchants, venture trade abroad ; 
 Others, hke Soldiers, armed in their stings, 
 Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; 
 Which pillage they with merry march bring home 
 To the tent-royal of their Emperor : 
 Who, busied in his Majjesty, surveys 
 The singing Masons, building roofs of gold ; 
 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 tilings, having full reference 
 
39^ ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH: 
 
 To one consent, may M'ork contrariously : 
 As many Ai-rows, loosed several ways, 
 riy 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 aU well borne 
 AYithout defeat. 
 
 Orifltualtty. — CoUon. 
 
 MEN of strong minds, and who think for themselves, 
 sliould not be discom-aged on finding occasionallv 
 that some of their best Ideas have been anticipated bv 
 former writers ; they will neither anathematize others with 
 a pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerint, nor despair them- 
 selves. They will rather go on in Science, hke John 
 Hunter in Physics, discovering thmgs before discovered, 
 until, like liim, they are rewarded with a terra hitherto 
 incognita in the Sciences, an Empire indisputably their 
 own, both by right of Conquest and of Discovery. 
 OrtSUtalttj). — Anon. 
 
 THEY who have Light ia themselves will not revolve as 
 SateUites. 
 
 Paraift'^c. — Milton. 
 
 UNDEE a tuft of shade that on the green 
 Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh Eountuin side 
 They sat them down ; and after no more toil 
 Of their sweet gard'ning labour than suffic'd 
 To recommend cool Zephyr, and made Ease 
 More easy, wholesome Thirst and Appetite 
 More grateful, to then- supper fruits they fell, 
 Parltamcut^. — Franklin. 
 
 WE assemble Parliaments and Councils, to have the 
 benefit of their collected Wisdom ; but we neces- 
 sarily have, at the same time, the inconveniences of their 
 collected passions, prejudices, and private interests. By 
 the help of these, artful men overpower then- Wisdom, 
 and dupe its possessors. 
 
 Pa^^UfU^. — Fuller. 
 
 HOLD not Conference, Debate, or Ecasoning with any 
 Lust : 'tis bvit a preparatory for thy Admission of it. 
 The way is at the very first flatly to deny it. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 393 
 
 Pas"^tmt^. — Liilo. 
 
 Exalted soula 
 Have Passions in proportion violent, 
 Resistless, and tormentriig : they're a tax 
 Impos'd by Nature on pre-eminence, 
 And Fortitude and Wisdom must support them. 
 
 ^JC 3i^&i^mii, — Sjpenser. 
 
 WHAT Warre so cruel, or what siege so sore 
 As that which strong alFections doe apply 
 Against the forte of Eeason evennore, 
 To bring the Soid into captivity ? 
 Their force is fiercer through infirmity 
 Of the fi-ade Flesh, relenting to then rage, 
 And exercise most bitter tyranny 
 Upon the partes, brought into their bondage : 
 No wretchedness is hke to sinful vUlenage. 
 
 '^t ^Kiivawi. — Moore. 
 
 ALAS ! too well, too well they know 
 The pain, the penitence, the Woe, 
 That Passion brings down on the best, 
 The wisest, and the lovehest. 
 
 %\yt Pits'S'lOlt^. — CraUe. 
 
 OHOW the Passions, insolent and strong. 
 Bear om- weak minds their rapid com-se along ; 
 Make ns the madness of their will obey ; 
 Then die, and leave us to om- griefs a Prey ! 
 
 %\)t Pa^^tmi^. — Cumberland. 
 
 THE Passions may be humoOTcd till they become our 
 master, as a Horse may be pampered tdl he gets the 
 better of his rider; but early disciphne will prevent 
 Mutiny, and keep the helm in the hands of Eeason. 
 
 Clje ^.Sa^iStan^. — Byron. 
 
 SHE stopt, and raised her hand 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 m each footstep, as disclosed 
 
 By SaUust in his Catdine, who, chased 
 By aU the demons of aU Passions, show'd 
 Their work even by the way in- which he trode. 
 
394 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTJE; 
 
 STl^E 3^K^i\ax\i. — Byron. 
 
 ALAS ! oux- young Affections run to waste, 
 Or water Ijut 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 giuns are poison ; such the plant 
 Which spring beneath her steps as Passion flies 
 O'er the World's wilderness, and vainly pants 
 For some celestial fi-uit, forbidden to our wants. 
 
 5Dl)e Pa^^lDlt^. — Burke. 
 
 IN 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 Energies, 
 whenever we oppress and persecute. 
 
 %\)t 3^K^iva\\i, — Scott. 
 
 HIS 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 horn- ; 
 And 0, when Passion rules, how rai-e 
 The hours that fall to Virtue's share! 
 
 Cf)e ^Ki^iani, — Shaftesbury. 
 
 A MAN is by nothing so much himself, as by liis 
 Temper and the chai-acter of his Passions and Affec- 
 tions. 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. 
 
 Pa^^tOU^. — Tillotson. 
 
 NO man's body is as strong as his appetites, but Heaven 
 has corrected the boundlessness of his voluptuous 
 desires by stinting his strength and contracting liis 
 capacities. 
 
 |9aS^t0U^. — 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 395 
 
 Kiit Pa^StOn^. — Claudian. 
 THAT 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 ? 
 
 W^t l^KiiiaXii. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 THE Passions are the only orators that always per- 
 suade : they are, as it were, a natural Art, the rules 
 of wliich are infallible : and the simplest man, with Pas- 
 sion, is more persuasive than the most eloquent without it. 
 
 Clje ^Kiiian^. — From the French. 
 rpHE Passions act as Winds to propel our vessel, our 
 1 Eeason is the Pilot that steers her; without the 
 Winds she would not move, without the Pilot she would 
 be lost. 
 
 Wi)t Pa^^t'nn^. — Sprat. 
 
 PASSION 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. 
 
 |9a^^iOU. — Lavater. 
 
 HE submits to be seen through a microscope, who 
 suffers himself to be caught in a fit of Passion. 
 
 ISa^^tOU. — Johnson. 
 
 THE roimd of a passionate man's life is in contra ctuig 
 debts in his Passion, which his Virtue obhges him to 
 pay. He spends his time in Outrage and acknowledge- 
 ment, injm-y and Eeparation. 
 
 |9a^S'tOUiS. — CoUon. 
 
 PEINCES rule the People; and their own Passions 
 rule Princes ; but Providence can overrule the whole, 
 and draw the instruments of liis mscrutable purpose from 
 the Vices, no less than from the Virtues of Kings. 
 
 ^Battencr. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Patiekce — 
 Of whose soft grace, I have her sovereign aid. 
 And rest myself content. 
 
1 
 
 396 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 5,9stl£ntt. — Fuller. 
 
 IF the Wicked Hom-ish, and thou suffer, be not dis- 
 coiu-aged. They, are fatted for Destruction: thou art j 
 dieted for Health. 
 
 ^9att0nC0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 How poor are they that have not Patience ! 
 What wound did ever heal, but by degrees ? 
 
 PattClTtC. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 I DO note, 
 
 That Grrief and Patience, rooted in him botli, 
 Mmgle tlieir spurs together. 
 
 Grrow, Patience ! 
 And let the stinking elder. Grief, iintwine 
 His perishing root, with the increasing Vine ! 
 
 PatrtOtt^m. — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 What constitutes a State ? 
 Not high-raised Battlements 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 stai-r'd and spangled com-ts. 
 Where low-brow' d baseness wafts perfume to Pride. 
 
 No : — MEif, high-minded men, 
 With Powers as far above dull brutes endued, 
 
 In forest, brake, or den, 
 As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles inide ; 
 
 Men, who their Duties know. 
 But know then- Rights, and knowing, dare maintain. 
 
 Prevent the long-aim' d blow, 
 And crush the Tyrant, while they rend the chain : 
 
 These constitute a State. 
 
 5^8atrt0ttiSm. — Pope. 
 
 STATESMAN, yet fi-iend to Truth! of soul sincere. 
 In action faithful, and in Honour clear ! 
 Wlio broke no promise, sei-ved no private end, 
 Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend ; 
 Ennobled by himself, by all approved, 
 Praised, wept, and honom-'d by the Muse he loved. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLt). %^1 
 
 H 
 
 |9atrtOtt^m. — Shakespeare. 
 AD 1 a dozen sons, — each in my love alike,— I had 
 
 rather had eleven die nobly for theu' country, than 
 
 one voluptuously surfeit out of Action. 
 
 Peace. — ShaJcespeare. 
 'TiS death to me, to be at Enmity ; 
 I hate it, and desire aU good men's Love. " 
 
 |9caC0. — Fetrarcli. 
 
 FIVE great enemies to Peace iahabit with us, viz., 
 Avarice, Ambition, Envy, Anger, and Pride, and if 
 those enemies were to be banished, we should infalhbly 
 enjoy perpetual Peace. 
 
 Peace. — Shakespeare. 
 I DO not know that Enghshman ahve 
 With whom my Soul is any jot at odds, 
 More than the infant that is bom to-night. 
 
 Pcas"ant 3Ltfe. — Fletcher. 
 
 HIS 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 hvely pictvu-e of his father's face : 
 Never liis humble house nor state tonnent him ; 
 Less he could like, if less his God had sent him ! 
 And when he dies, green tm-fs, with grassy tomb, content 
 him. 
 
 PeitetrattOlt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE hke to divine others, but we do not hke to be 
 divined ourselves. 
 
 PcitCtratuJlT. — Greville. 
 
 PENETRATION seems a kind of inspiration ; it gives 
 me an idea of Prophecy. 
 
 PeuetratlflU. — La Fochefoucauld. 
 
 PENETRATION has an air of divination, wliich flat- 
 ters otu- Vanity more than all the other quahties of 
 the Mind. 
 
 PcilCtrattOlt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE greatest fault in Penetration is not the not reach- 
 ing the mark, but overshooting it. 
 
3 9 8 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 IT is with narrow-souled people as with narrow-necked 
 Bottles ; the less they hare in them, the more Noise 
 they make in pouring it out. 
 
 mctireif Pa-^0nS. — Goldsmith. 
 
 IT has been said that he who retires to soKtude is either 
 a Beast or an Angel. The censure is too severe, and 
 the praise unmerited. The discontented being who retires 
 from society is generally some good-natxired man, who has 
 begun liis Life without Experience, and knew not how to 
 gain it in his intercourse with mankind. 
 
 Pcrfecttnu. — Voltaire. 
 
 PEREECTION is attained by slow degrees; she re- 
 quires the hand of Time. 
 
 ^9a:fectl0U. — Chesterfield. 
 
 AIM at Perfection in every thing, though in most 
 things it is unattainable. 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. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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. 
 
 3^ZXtttiian. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TO gild refined Gold, to paint the Lily, 
 To tlu-ow a perfume on the Violet, 
 To smooth the Ice, or add another hue 
 TJnto the Kainbow, or with taper-hght 
 To seek the beauteous eye of Heaven to garnish, 
 Is wasteful and ridiculous. 
 
 J^ttit^UKXXtt. — From the Latin. 
 
 HE wiU never enjoy the sweets of the spring, nor will 
 he obtain the Honeycombs of Mount Hybla, if he 
 dreads his face being stiing, or is annoyed by Briers. The 
 Rose is guarded by its Thorn, the Honey is defended by 
 the Bee. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 399 
 
 |3crs"C&CrantC. — Lucretius. 
 A FAILING- Drop at last will cave a Stone. 
 
 l^erbcrStty. — Oremiu. 
 
 SOME men put me in mind of Half-bred Horses, wliicli 
 often grow worse in proportion as you feed and exei"- 
 cise them for Improvement. 
 
 ^Bcrbcr^tty. — From the Latin. 
 We have all a propensity to grasp at Forbidden Fruit. 
 
 ^5t1aii:t5r0}3a. — Cumberland. 
 
 IT 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 : he may 
 have a preference for the particular quarter or square, or 
 even alley in which he hves, but he should have a generous 
 feehng for the welfare of the whole. 
 
 ^95nfl^tft)?)Cr^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEEE 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. 
 
 THE Philosopher will draw his estimate of Human 
 Nature, by vaiying as much as possible liis own 
 situation, to multiply the points of view under which he 
 observes her. TJncircumscribed by lines of latitude or of 
 longitude, he will examine her " buttoned up and laced in 
 the forms and ceremonies of Civilisation, and at her ease 
 and unrestrained in the hght and feathered Costume of 
 tlie Savage." He will also associate vrith the highest, 
 without servility, and with the lowest, without viilgarity. 
 
 t9]^llasOpT)g. — Spictetvs. 
 
 IT is the peculiar quahty and character of an undisci- 
 plined man, and a Man of the World, to expect no 
 advantage, and to apprehend no miscliief from himself, 
 but all from objects without liim. Whereas the Philoso- 
 pher, quite contrary, looks only inward, and apprehcTids 
 no good or evil can happen to him, but from himself 
 alone. 
 
400 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 |i]^{l0S"Oi3l^U' — Shakespeare. 
 Adteesity's sweet milk — Pliilosopliy. 
 
 Plj{l0^aj)!jy. — Voltaire. 
 
 rriHE discovery of what is true, and the practice of that 
 X which is good, are the two most important objects of 
 Philosophy. 
 
 ^91jtl0^fljlj3). — 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. 
 
 PI)tl0^0})I)J). — 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. 
 
 |81jtl0^0jplj». — Seneca. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY does not regai'd pedigree : she did not 
 receive Plato as a noble, "but she made him so. 
 
 P5tto^OJ3l)ll. — Selden. 
 
 WHEN 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 
 notMng but Discretion. 
 
 PIjtl0^0jl'^2. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 TO philosophise in a just signification, is but to carry 
 Grood Breeding a step higher. For the accomphsli- 
 ment of breeding is, to learn what is decent in company, 
 or beautiful ia arts ; and the sum of Philosophy is, to 
 leam what is just in society, and beautiful in Nature and 
 the order of the world. 
 
 Pf)n0g0j3l^y. — Tillotson. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY hath given us several plaiislble rules for 
 attaining Peace and Tranquillity of Mind, but they fall 
 vei"y much short of bringing men to it. 
 
 P^tl0^0J)!)g. — La MocTiefoucauld. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY triiunphs easily over past, and over 
 futm-e Evils, but present Evils triumph over Philo- 
 sophy. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 461 
 
 pi^tl0gOj>Tj8. — Thomson. 
 Philosophy consists not 
 In airy schemes, or idle speculations : 
 The rule and conduct d all social life 
 Is her great Province. Not in lonely cells 
 Obscure she liu-ks, but holds her heav'nly light 
 To Senates and to Kings, to guide their councils, 
 And teach them to reform and bless mankind. 
 
 P]^tl0g0j)5y. — Fope. 
 
 IN lazy Apathy let Stoics boast 
 Their Virtue fixed ; 'tis fixed as in a fi-ost ; 
 Contracted all, rething to the braast ; 
 But strength of mind is exercise, not rest : 
 The rising Tempest puts in act the soul ; 
 Parts it may ravage, but preserves the whole. 
 
 |35tl0^0J)]^y. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THIS same Philosophy is a good Horse in a stable, but 
 an arrant Jade on a journey. 
 
 PI){l0^0J|]^JJ. — Shafteslury. 
 
 'rpiS not wit merely, but a temper, which mvist form 
 JL the well-bred man. In the same manner 'tis not a 
 Head merely, but a Heart and Resolution, which complete 
 the real Philosopher. 
 
 (El^t CntC |3Ijtl0S0J)Ijer. — St. John. 
 
 HE bestowed the name on those only, who have anived, 
 by meditation, at the knowledge of eternal truth : 
 who, smitten by the beauty of virtue, not only love and 
 admire it, but pursue it with all their soul and with all 
 their strength ; who nom-ish it, who exercise it, who put 
 their whole trust in it, and who m proportion to the 
 loftiness and perfection of their theoretical wisdom, are 
 versed likewise in practice and experience, and in all the 
 arts wliich lead to private virtue and pubUc fehcity. 
 
 |9]^ys"tOgn0my. — Addison. 
 
 WHEN 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. 
 
 Pl)l)^t0Cjn0mU. — Virgil. 
 Tritst not too much to an enchantmg face. 
 
 T) M 
 
4oa ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH: 
 
 Pictured. — Horace. 
 A PiCTTTEE is a Poem mtlaout words. 
 
 Plafltart^m. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 Plagiarists are always suspicious of being stolen from. 
 
 ^Ica^Ure. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Elowees are like the Pleasures of the world. 
 
 H^ltKiXLXt. — Seneca. 
 
 LET not the enjoyment of Pleasures now within your 
 grasp, be carried to such Excess as to incapacitate 
 you from future repetition. 
 
 |3ka^lt«. — Moore. 
 
 PLEASUEE'S the only noble end 
 To which all Human pow'rs should tend : 
 And Virtue gives her heav'nly lore, 
 Exit to make Pleasure please us more ! 
 Wisdom and she were both design' d, 
 To make the senses more refin'd, 
 That man might revel free from cloying, 
 Then most a sage, when most enjoying ! 
 
 ^lea^urc. — Byron. 
 Thottgh sages may pour out their Wisdom's treasure, 
 There is no sterner MoraUst than Pleasure. 
 
 pleasure. — Shakespeare. 
 Wht, all Delights are vain ; but that most vain, 
 Which with Paul purchas'd, doth uiherit Paia. 
 
 pleasure. — Spenser. 
 
 HIS 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. 
 
 Pfea^ltre. — Fuller. 
 Choose such Pleasures as recreate much, and cost Uttle, 
 
 pleasure. — Slialcespeare. 
 
 IE aU the year were playing Hohdays, 
 To sport woTild be as tedious as to work ; 
 But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come. 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare Accidents. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 403 
 
 ^.Blea^ltrC. — Shakespeare, 
 Who risetli from a feast, 
 With that keen Appetite that he sits down ? 
 Where is the Horse that doth imtread 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 yoxmker, or a Prodigal, 
 The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 
 Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet Wind ! 
 How hke the Prodigal doth she return. 
 With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, 
 Lean, rent, and beggar' d. 
 
 |9lca^u«. — Pope. 
 Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood. 
 Our greatest Evil, or our greatest Good. 
 
 Jj^ltKSnrt. — Colton. 
 
 THE seeds of Repentance are sown in youth by Plea- 
 sure but the Harvest is reaped in age by Pain. 
 
 ^IcaiSure. — Colton. 
 Pain may be said to follow Pleasure as its shadow. 
 
 |3lca^tt«. — Chesterfield. 
 
 PLEASURE 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. 
 
 NONE has more frequent conversations with disagree- 
 able self than the man of Pleasure ; his Enthusiasms 
 are but few and transient; his Appetites, hke angry 
 creditors, continually making fruitless demands for what 
 he is unable to pay ; and the greater his former Pleasures, 
 the more strong his regret, tlie more impatient his ex- 
 pectations. 
 
 Plcasxtrc. — Colton. 
 
 MENTAL Pleasm-es never cloy; unlike those of the 
 body, they are increased by Repetition, approved of 
 by Reflection, and strengthened by Enjoyment. 
 
4-04- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 poetry. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 POETET has been to me its own exceeding great re- 
 ward : it has given me the habit of wishing to dis- 
 cover the Good and Beautiful in all that meets and 
 suri'ounds me. 
 
 PO^trg. — Anon. 
 
 SO 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 
 Shakespeare, or of the masters of the Greek drama, — to 
 discern the principles which actuated them, the purposes 
 they had in view, the laws they acknowledged, and the 
 ideas they wished to impersonate. 
 
 Poetrg. — Goldsmith. 
 
 AND thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, 
 StiU first to fly where sensual joys invade ! 
 Unfit, in these degen'rate times of Shame, 
 To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame, 
 Dear charming Nymph, neglected and decry' d, 
 My shame in crowds, my sohtary Pi'ide ; 
 Thou source of all my bhss, and all my woe, 
 That found' st me poor at first, and keep'st me so ; 
 Thou Guide, by which the nobler arts excel, 
 Tliou nm'se of ev'ry Virtue. 
 
 pnctrg. — Pope. 
 
 SAGES and chiefs long since had birth. 
 Ere Caesar was, or Newton nam'd ; 
 These rais'd new empires o'er the earth, — 
 And those, new Heav'ns and systems framed ; 
 Vain was the chiefs', the sages' pride ! 
 They had no Poet, and they died. 
 In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled ! 
 They had no Poet, and are dead. 
 
 Pnctrg. — Jean Paul. 
 are so many tender and holy Emotions flying 
 about in our inward world, which, hke 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 aU these incorporeal Spirits, and the Perfume 
 of all these Flowers. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 405 
 
 ^30CtrB. — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 TO charm the langviid hours of sohtude 
 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 hom-s, while wrapt they soar 
 To Worlds unknown, and hve in Fancy's dream : 
 Oh, Muse divine ! thee only I implore, 
 Shed on my Soul thy sweet inspiring beams, 
 And Pleasm-e's gayest scene insipid FoUy seems ! 
 
 |30Ctl*J1. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 THE mind of man is hke 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 httle agitated 
 by gentle gales ; and so the Mind, when moved by soft 
 and easy Passions and Aifections. 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 hght for the use or entertainment of serious 
 men : but whoever find themselves wholly insensible to 
 these charms, would, I tliink, do well to keep their own 
 Council, for fear of reproaching their own temper, and 
 bringing the goodness of their natm-es, if not of their 
 Understandmgs 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 feKcities of Heaven itself. 
 
 |9flCtrj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE 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. 
 
 K\)Z poet. — Spenser. 
 
 HEAPS of htige words uphoorded hideously, 
 With horrid sound, though having httle sense. 
 They think to be chief praise of Poetry, 
 And thereby wanting due inteUigence, 
 Have marr'd the face of goodly Poesie, 
 And made a Monster of their fantasie. 
 
 K^t P0Ct. — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 NONE ever was a great Poet that apphed himself 
 much to anything else. 
 
4o6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 |9oltCg. — Shakespeare. 
 Such is the infection of the time, 
 That, for the Health and Physic of our Eight, 
 We cannot deal but with the very hand 
 Of stem Injustice and confused Wrong 
 
 pOlttaxt^^. — Greville. 
 
 AS Charity covers a multitude of sins before God, so 
 does Pohteness before men, 
 
 j li^nMtmti^. — CoUon. 
 
 THAT Pohteness which we put on, in order to keep 
 the assuming and the presumptuous at a proper \ 
 ' distance, will generally succeed. But it sometimes hap- ! 
 
 pens, that these obstrusive characters are on such excellent 
 ! terms with themselves, that they put down this verv 
 \ Politeness to the score of their own great Merits and liigli 
 pretensions, meeting the coldness of our Eesei-ve with a 
 ridiculous condescension of Famiharity, in order to set us 
 at ease with ourselves. 
 
 PoIttClttsS. ~ Sliaflesbwy. 
 
 ALL Pohteness is owing to Liberty. We pohsh one 
 another, and rub oiF our corners and rough sides by a 
 j sort of amicable coUision. To restrain this is inevitably 
 j to bring a rust upon men's imderstandings. 
 
 '^tHiXmHi, — Cumberland,. 
 
 POLITENESS is nothing more than an elegant and 
 concealed species of Elattery, tendnig to put the 
 person to_ whom it is addressed in G-ood-humour and I 
 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 civihty to perfoi-m, sucli 
 Pohteness seems founded in mistake, and this mistake I 
 have observed frequently to occui- in French manners. 
 
 %\^Z ^0J)ltIar0. — SJiakes'pe are, 
 
 THEEE have been many Great Men that have flattered 
 the People, 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 407 
 
 POpularttjI. — Shakes-peare. 
 
 AN habitation giddv and unsure 
 Hath he that buildeth on the Vulgar Heart. 
 O thou fond Many ! with what loud applause 
 Did'st thou beat Heav'n 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 liim, 
 That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. 
 
 190pitIarttM. — Spenser. 
 
 AND after all the raskall Many ran, 
 Heaped together in rude Rablement, 
 To see the face of that victorious man, 
 "Whom all admhed as from Heaven sent. 
 And gaz'd upon with gaping Wonderment. 
 
 ^0pitIar{ti}. — Scott. 
 
 THEIR' S was the glee of martial breast, 
 And laughter theu-'s at httle jest ; 
 And oft Lord Marmion deigt.'d to aid, 
 And mingle in the mhth they made : 
 For though, with men of High degree. 
 The proudest of the Proud was he. 
 Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art 
 To win the Soldier's hardy Heart. 
 
 ^0^^E^^t0tt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 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 Vhtue, that Possession would not show us 
 Whiles it was ours. 
 
 ■^aiSt^Sian, — Young. 
 
 POSSESSION, why, more tasteless than pursuit ? 
 Why is a wish far dearer than a Crown ? 
 That wish accomphsh'd, why, the grave of BHss? 
 Because, m the great future bm-y'd deep, 
 Beyond om- plans of Empire, and Renown, 
 Lies all that man with ardour should piu-sue ; 
 And He who made him, bent him to the right. 
 
+o8 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 Pn^terttg. — CoUon. 
 
 WITH respect to the authority of great names, it 
 should he rememembered, that he alone deserves to 
 have any weight or influence with Posterity, who has 
 shown himself superior to the particular and predominant 
 Eri'or of liis own times. 
 
 |306ertg. — St. Hvremond. 
 
 WHEN it is not despicable to be poor, we want fewer 
 things to hve in Poverty with satisfaction, than to 
 live magnificently with Kiches. 
 
 Pobertg. — Bryden. 
 
 WANT is a bitter and a hateful good, 
 Because its Vu-tues are not understood ; 
 Yet many things, impossible to thought. 
 Have been by Need to full perfection brought. 
 Tlie daring of the Soul proceeds fi-om thence. 
 Sharpness of Wit, and active Diligence ; 
 Prudence at once, and Fortitude it gives ; 
 And, if in patience taken, mends our lives. 
 
 P0jjertg. — Turkish Spy. 
 
 POVERTY echpses the brightest Virtues, and is the 
 very Sepulchre of brave designs, deprivuig a man of 
 the means to accomphsh what Nature has fitted him for, 
 and stiflmg the noblest thoughts in their embryo. Many 
 illustrious Soids may be said to have been dead among 
 the hving, or buried ahve ia the obscurity of their con- 
 dition, whose perfections have rendered them the darhngs 
 of Providence, and companions of angels. 
 
 ^O&ertg antr Mtci)«jS. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Twinn'd brothers of one womb, — 
 Whose procreation, residence, and birth. 
 Scarce is dividant, — touch them with several Eortimes ; 
 The greater scorns the lesser ; Not Nature, 
 To whom all lay siege, can bear great fortime, 
 Biit 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 409 
 
 ^30&Crtl3 antf WHi'HQXtt. — DekTcer. 
 
 A WISE mail poor, 
 Is like a Sacred Book that's never read, 
 To himself he lives, and to aU else seems dead. 
 
 ^Ofioer. — Colton. 
 
 POWEE will intoxicate the best hearts, as Wine the 
 strongest heads. No man is wise enough, nor good 
 enough to be trusted with unlunited Power ; for, whatever 
 qualifications he may have evinced to entitle liim to the 
 possession of so dangerous a privilege, yet, when possessed, 
 others can no longer answer for Mm, because he can no 
 longer answer for himself. 
 
 P0&)gr. — Colton. 
 
 LORD BACON has compared those who move in higher 
 spheres, to those heavenly bodies in the Firmament, 
 which have much admiration, but httle rest. And it is 
 not necessary to invest a wise man with Power, to con- 
 vince him that it is a garment bedizened with gold, which 
 dazzles the beholder by its Splendom*, but oppresses the 
 wearer by its Weight. 
 
 JSormant ^otDer. — Swift. 
 
 ALTHOTJG-H men are accused for not knowing their 
 own Weakness, 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. 
 
 pntoer anlf iliijcrta. — Samlle. 
 
 POWER and Liberty are like Heat and Moisture; where 
 they are well mixt, every thing prospers ; where they 
 are single, they are destructive. 
 
 |3rat^C. — Young. 
 
 THE love of Praise, howe'er conceal' d by art. 
 Reigns, more or less, and glows in ev'ry Heart : 
 The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure, 
 The modest shun it but to make it sure, 
 
 |3rat^0. — T'uller. 
 
 PRAISE not people to then- faces, to the end that they 
 may pay thee in the same Coin. This is so tliin a 
 Cobweb, that it may with httle difficulty be seen through ; 
 'tis rarely strong enough to catch flies of any considerable 
 magnitude. 
 
4-1 o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Prat^C. — Spenser. 
 
 OB 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 G-ood were not praised more than ill, 
 None would chuse Goodness of his own free will. 
 
 |3ra{^e. — Steele. 
 
 ALLOW no man to be so free with you as to praise 
 you to your Face. Your Yanity by this means will 
 want its food. At the same time your passion for Esteem 
 will be more fuUy gratified ; men will praise you ra their 
 actions : where you now receive one CompHment, you will 
 then receive twenty Civilities. 
 
 3^XK\it, — Fuller. 
 
 THOU may'st be more prodigal of Praise when thou 
 writest a letter than when thou speakest in presence. 
 
 prat^E. — From the Latin. 
 
 IT is the greatest possible praise to be praised by a man 
 who is himself deserving of Praise. 
 
 |9ratS"£. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE worthiness of Praise distains his worth. 
 If that the praised himself bring the Praise forth : 
 Put what the repining enemy commends, 
 That breath Eame follows ; that Praise ; sole pure, tran- 
 scends. 
 
 pratiSe. — Greville. 
 rpHOSE men who are commended by everybody, must 
 JL be very extraordinary men ; or, which is more pro- 
 bable, very inconsiderable men. 
 
 Prag^r. — Fuller. 
 
 LEAVE not off praying to G-od: for either praying 
 will make thee leave off sinning; or continuing i:i 
 Sin will make thee desist from praying. 
 
 Prager. — s. More. 
 
 FOUNTAIN 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4-11 
 
 Prayer. — Thomson. 
 
 FATHER of Liglit and Life ! thou Good Supreme ! 
 0 teach me what is good ! teach me thyself ! 
 Save me from Folly, Yanity, and Vice, 
 From every low pursuit ! and feed my Soul 
 With Knowledge, conscious Peace, and Virtue pure ; 
 Sacred, substantial, neTer-fading Bhss ! 
 
 |9l'aj|Cl*. — Shakespeare. ' 
 
 ITIOE. holy offices I have a time : a time 
 . To thiut upon the part of business, which 
 I bear i' the State ; and Nature does require 
 Her times of preservation, wliich, perforce, | 
 I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, ' 
 Must give my tendance to. 
 
 PrajJCr. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LEND me a Heart replete with thankftdness ! 
 For thou hast given me in this beauteous face, 
 A world of earthly blessings to my Soul, 
 If sympathy of Love miite our thoughts. | 
 
 ^Sreac^tr. — Cowper. \ 
 
 HE that negotiates between God and Man, 
 As God's Ambassador, the grand concerns 
 Of Judgment and of Mercy, should beware 
 Of hghtness in his speech. 'Tis pitiful 
 To court a grhi, when you should woo a soul : 
 To break a jest, when pity would insphe 
 Pathetic exhortation ; and address 
 The skittish fancy with facetious tales. 
 When sent with God's commission to the heart ! 
 
 Pr^ceflt. — Anon. 
 
 ONE of the saddest things about Human Nature is, 
 that a man may guide others in the path of Life, 
 without walkmg m it himself; that he may be a Pilot, 
 and yet a castaway. 
 Prccejpt antr (S}:mi^lt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IP 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 nune own 
 teaching. 
 
4ia ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTS ; 
 
 IBrWCJlt VLXXH (SFjranTjpIe. — Johnson. 
 
 IT is not difEcult to conceive, that, for many reasons, a 
 man writes much better than he hves. Por without 
 entering into refined Speculations, it may be shown much 
 easier to design than to perform. , A man proposes his 
 schemes of Life in a state of abstraction and disengage- 
 ment, exempt from the enticements of Hope, the sohcita- 
 tions of Affection, the importunities of Appetite, or the 
 depressions of Fear, and is in the same state with him 
 that teaches upon land the art of NaTigation, to whom the 
 sea is always smooth, and the wind always prosperous. 
 
 Pretext au^f (^yamjlle. — Johnson. 
 
 NOTHING- 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 jovu-ney, without having Courage or Industry to under- 
 take it, and may honestly recommend to others, those 
 attempts which he neglects himself. 
 
 ^9r«c{jJtC0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE veiy place puts toys of Desperation, 
 Without more motive, into every brain. 
 That looks so many fathoms to the Sea, 
 And hears it roar beneath. 
 
 Precupttancg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HEAT not a Eumace for your foe so hot, 
 That it do singe yom-self. We may out-run 
 By violent swiftness, that which we run at ; 
 And lose by over-running : know you not, 
 Tlie Fu-e that mounts the Liquor 'tUl't run o'er, 
 Seeming t' augment it, wastes it ? 
 
 |9rejtttftte. — Oreville. 
 
 SOME Prejudices are to the mind, what the Atmosphere 
 is to the body : we cannot feel without the one, nor 
 breathe without the other. 
 
 PrcjttUlCC. — Greville. 
 
 REMOVING- Prejudices is, alas! too often removing 
 the boundary of a dehghtful near prospect, in oraer 
 to let in a shocking extensive one. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. +n 
 
 Pr^juiftrt;. — Tucker. 
 
 THEEE 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 nomish it ; Captiousness, ingenious in perverting 
 the meaning of words ; Partiahty, wai-ping everything 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. 
 
 ^.3W)Utftce. — Terence. 
 
 HUMAN Natm-e is so constituted, that all see, and 
 judge better, in the Atfairs of other men, than in 
 theu' own. 
 
 Prjjulfice. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WE seldom find persons whom we acknowledge to be 
 possessed of dood Sense, except those who agree 
 with us in opinion. 
 
 PrcjltUtCC. — Greville. 
 
 TO divest one's self of some Prejudices, would be hke 
 taking off the skin to feel the better, 
 
 S^je ^re^Cnt. — Sorace. 
 
 ABRTDGrE 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. 
 
 3^XtimX. — Sorace. 
 
 IN the midst of Hopes and Cares, of Apprehensions and 
 of Disquietude, 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 forwai-d, will 
 prove an acceptable boon. 
 
 Wc^Z Present. — Fuller. 
 
 TRY to be happy in this very present Moment; and 
 put not off bemg so to a Time to come : as though 
 that Time should be of another make from this, which is 
 ah-eady come, and is ours. 
 
414- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 W\)t J^xt^mt — CoUon. 
 "]\/|"EN spend their Hves in Anticipations, in detenniniii<r 
 JJX 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 ; hut if we 
 defer the tastmg of them too long, we shall find that both 
 are soured by age. 
 
 W)t 3^XtitvA. — Armstrong. 
 
 WHAT avails it that indulgent Heaven 
 From mortal Eyes has wrapt the woes to come, 
 If we, ingenious to torment ourselves, 
 Grow pale at hideous Kctions of our own ? 
 Enjoy the Present ; nor with needless cares 
 Of what may spring from bhnd Misfortune's womb. 
 Appal the surest horn- that life bestows. 
 Serene, and master of yourself, prepare 
 For what may come ; and leave the rest to Heaven. 
 
 mit^xtimt antr t^c mtxml. — Colton. 
 
 TE mdeed that marvellous microcosm, Man, with all 
 J. the costly cargo of his faculties and powers, were 
 mdeed a rich Argosy, fitted out and fi-eighted only for 
 tehipwreck and Destruction, who amongst us that tolerate 
 the Present onlv Jfrom the Hope of the Future, who that 
 have any aspma^s of a high and inteUectual Nature about 
 them, could be brought to submit to the disgustin<f 
 Mortifications of the voyage ? As to the common and the 
 sensual herd, who would be glad perhaps, under any 
 terms, to sweat and groan beneath the load of Life, they 
 would find that the creed of the Materiahst would onlv ' 
 give a fuller swing to the suicidal energies of a Selfism as 
 unprmcipled as unrelenting ; a Selfism that would not 
 only make that giftless Gift of Life a boon the most 
 difficult to preserve, but would at the same time render it 
 whoUy unworthy of the task and the trouble of its pre- 
 servation. Knowledge herself, that fairest daughter of 
 Heaven, would be immediately transformed into a change- 
 ling of HeU ; the brightest Eeason 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 depravity of his will, with everv 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. +15 
 
 aiigmentation of his Power. The force of Intellect im- 
 parted to that which was corrupt, would be like the 
 destructive energies communicated by an Earthquake to 
 that wliich is inert ; where even things inanimate, as rocks 
 and mountains, seem endowed vdth a momentary impulse 
 of motion and of life, only to overwhelm, to destroy, and 
 to be destroyed. 
 
 IBw^ntttmeitt. — 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 lU, — 
 That oftentimes a subtler sense informs 
 Some spu-its of the approach of " tilings to be." 
 
 dWalims IBre^Eitt^. — Fuller. 
 
 WHEN 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 
 Memoiy of the Eeceiver. 
 
 Cl^E Prctentfcr. — Shakespeare. 
 
 This is some fellow. 
 Who, having been praised for Bluntness, doth affect 
 A saucy Eoughness ; and constrains the garb. 
 Quite from his Natm-e : He cannot flatter, he ! — 
 An honest mind and plain,— he must speak truth : 
 An they wiU take it, so ; if not, he's plain. 
 These kind of Knaves I know, wliich in this plainness 
 Harboui' more craft and more corrupter ends, 
 Than twenty silly ducking Observants, 
 That stretch their duties nicely. 
 
 ^rctcn^inn. — JoTimon. 
 
 IT is the care of a very great part of Mankind to conceal 
 their indigence from the rest. They support themselves 
 by temporary expedients, and every day is lost in con- 
 triving for to-morrow. 
 
 ^Brcten^ton. — Cicero. 
 
 TRUE Q-lory strikes root, and even extends itself ; all 
 false Pretensions fall as do Flowers, nor can any 
 iliing feigned be lasting. 
 
4.1 6 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TR TJTH ; 
 
 "^XZXtXi&vaw. — Lavater. 
 
 HE, who gives himself au-s of Importance, exhibits the 
 credentials of Impotence. 
 
 ^Uttmian, — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 THE desire of appearing Clever often prevents our be- 
 coming so. 
 
 Pret«TS"t0n. — Plutarch. 
 
 IT is no Disgrace not to be able to do every thing ; but 
 to undertake, or pretend to do, what you are not made 
 for, is not only Shameful, but extremely Troublesome and 
 Vexatious. 
 
 J^XtttXXiian. — Lavater. 
 
 WHEEE there is much Pretension, much has been 
 borrowed : Katm-e never pretends. 
 
 |9rtire. — Anon. 
 
 To no kind of begging are people so averse, as to 
 Pegging Pardon ; that is, when there is anv 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. 
 
 |9rQjp. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 HE, that is proud, eats up himself; Pride is liis oyra. 
 G-lass, his own Triimpet, his own Chi-onicle ; and ! 
 whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours the deed i 
 in the Praise. 
 
 ^nlJe. — Clarendon. 
 
 WITHOUT the sovereign influence of Q-od's extra- 
 ordinary and immediate Grace, men do very rarely { 
 put off all the trappings of their Pride, till they who are i 
 about them put on then- winding-sheet. j 
 
 ?,9rtifg. — Golton. 
 
 PRIDE is a paradoxical Proteus, eternally diverse yet 
 ever the same ; for Plato adopted a most magnificent 
 mode of displaying his Contempt for Magnificence, while 
 Neglect would have restored Diogenes to common sense 
 and clean hnen, 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, greater pride^ O Diogenes." 
 
OB, THINGS N JEW AND OLD. 417 
 
 ^rflJC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Peide hath no other Glass 
 To show itself, but Pride ; for supple knees 
 Feed Ai-rdgance, and are the Proud Man's fees. 
 
 PrQjC. — Shenstone. 
 
 MEN are sometimes accused of Pride merely because 
 tlieir accusers would be proud themselves if they 
 were in their places. 
 
 PrttfC. — Selden. 
 
 PEIDE may be allowed to this or that degree, else a 
 man cannot keep up his Dignity. In Gluttony there 
 must be eating, in Drunkenness there must be drinkmg ; 
 'tis not the eating, nor 'tis not the drinking that must be 
 blamed, but the Excess. So in Pride. 
 
 Prte. — Greville. 
 
 PEIDE is a Vu'tue— let not the morahst be scandahsed 
 — Prida is also a Vice. Pride, hke Ambition, is 
 sometimes vhtuous and sometimes vicious, according to 
 the character m which it is found, and the object to whicih 
 it is directed. As a Principle, it is the Parent of almost 
 every Virtue, and every Vice,— every thmg that pleases 
 and displeases in mankind ; and as the effects are so very 
 different, nothing is more easy than to discover, even to 
 ourselves, whether the Pride that produces them is vir- 
 tuous or vicious: the first object of virtuous Pride is 
 Eectitude, and the next Independence. 
 
 ^ritfe. — Colton. 
 
 TO quell the Pride, even of the greatest, we should 
 reflect how much we owe to others, and how httle to 
 ourselves. PhUip havuig made himself master of Potidoea, I 
 received three Messengers in one day : the fii-st brought 
 him an accomit of a great Victory, gained over the Illy- 
 rians, by his general Parmenio ; the second told Mm, that 
 lie was proclaimed Victor at the Olympic games ; and the 
 third informed him of the bhth 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 PhUip, 
 since, as an elegant writer remarks, " for the first lie was 
 indebted to his General ; for the second, to his Horse ; 
 and his Wife is slu-ewdly suspected of having helped him 
 to the thu-d." 
 
4-1 8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBTJTK; 
 
 Prttrg. — Greville. 
 
 A PROUD man never shows liis Pride so much as 
 when he is civil. 
 
 pritre. — Colton. 
 
 THERE is this paradox in Pride, — it makes some men 
 ridiculous, but prevents others from becoming so. 
 
 |Prttf0. — Shahespeare. 
 
 I WILL ft'om 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. 
 
 Prncra^ttnatton. — Young. 
 
 ' De wise to-day ; 'tis Madness to defer ; 
 
 Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; 
 Thus on, till Wisdom is push'd out of Life. 
 
 |9rflcra^tmat{0n. — TUiotson. 
 
 TO 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, fi-om one day 
 and night to another, till he is starved and destroyed. 
 
 |9r0cra^ttnatt0n. — Fersius. 
 
 Corn. Unhappy he, who does his work adjoi^rn, 
 
 And to To-morrow wovdd the Search delay : 
 
 His lazy moiTOW will be hke to-day. 
 
 Fem. But is one day of Ease too much to borrow ? 
 ; Corn. Yes, sure ; for Yesterday was once To-mon'ow, 
 j That Yesterday is gone, and nothmg gain'd ; 
 
 And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain'd ; 
 I For thou hast more To-morrows yet to ask, 
 
 And wilt be ever to begin thy Task ; 
 I Who, hke the hindmost Chariot Wheels, are cui'st, 
 
 Still to be near, but ne'er to reach, the first. 
 
 |9r0Cra^tUTattfln. — Shahespeare. 
 
 ; 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 Imrts by casing. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 419 
 
 |9rorra0*ttnation. — Horace. 
 
 WHATEVER things iajure your Eye, you are anxious 
 to remove : but things which affect your Miud you 
 
 defer. 
 
 ^Brofltgary. — Colton. 
 
 HE that has never suffered extreme Adversity, knows 
 not the full extent of his own Depravation ; and he 
 that has never enjoyed the summit of Prosperity, is 
 equally ignorant how far the Iniquity of others can go. 
 For our Adversity will excite temptations in ourselves, 
 our Prosperity in others. Sir Eobert Walpole observed, 
 it was fortunate that few men could b-s Prime Ministers, 
 because it was fortunate that few men could know the 
 abandoned profligacy of the Human Mind. 
 
 Pr05rC^S. — Oenz. 
 
 Two principles govern the moral and intellectual 
 World. One is perpetual Progress, the other the 
 necessary Hmitations to that Progress. If the former alone 
 prevailed, there would be nothing steadfast and durable 
 on Earth, and the whole of social Life would be the sport 
 of Winds and Waves. If the latter had exclusive sway, 
 or even if it obtained a mischievous preponderancy, every- 
 thing would petrify or rot. The best ages of the World 
 are always those m which these two principles are the 
 most equally balanced. In such ages every enhghtened 
 man ought to adopt both principles into his whole Mind 
 and Conduct, and with one hand develop what he can, 
 with the other restrain and uphold what he ought. 
 
 3^ta^tii. — Colton. 
 
 THE wisest Man may be wiser to-day than he was 
 yesterday, and to-morrow than he is to-day. Total 
 fi'eedom from Change would imply total freedom from 
 Error ; but this is the Prerogative of Omniscience alone. 
 
 ^rosr«^;S. — Colton. 
 
 WHO for the most part are they, that would have all 
 Mankind look backwards instead of forwards, 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 Inno- 
 vators, he might also have said the greatest of Improvers ; 
 and I like Madame de Stael's observation on this subject, 
 
 i 
 
420 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 quite as well as Lord Bacon's : it is this, " that Past wliich 
 is so presumptuously brought forward as a precedent for 
 the Present, was itseK founded on an alteration of some 
 Past that went before it.'" 
 
 Iprotjte^^. — Burhe. 
 
 BY the disposition of a stupendous Wisdom, moulding 
 together the great mysterious incorporation of the 
 Htmian Race, the whole, at one time, is never old, or 
 middled-aged, or young ; but, in a condition of unchange- 
 i able Constancy, mores on through the varied tenour of 
 j perpetual Decay, Pall, Eenovation, and Progression. 
 
 I Ipragrc^,^. — Coiton. 
 
 WE ought not to be over anxious to encourage Inno- 
 vation, in cases of doubtful Improvement, for an old 
 system must ever have two advantages over a new one j 
 it is estabhshed, and it is understood. 
 
 ^romt^e^. — Fuller. 
 
 THOU oughtest to be nice, even to Superstition, in 
 keeping thy Promises ; and therefore thou shouldst 
 be equally cautious in making them. 
 
 Pv0nTt^£jS. — Bousseau. 
 
 HE who is most slow in making a Promise is the most 
 faithful in the Performance of it 
 
 |9r0J)l^CCU. — Shahespeare. 
 
 THEEE is a History in aU men's hves, 
 Eigtiring the Nature of the times deceas'd ; 
 The which observ'd, a man may prophesy. 
 With a near aim, of the main Chance of things 
 As yet not come to Life, which in their seeds. 
 And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. 
 
 THE allurements of Fancy prove the first source of 
 wantonness, of \inlucky and mischievous tricks in the 
 earhest years, and in the riper often produce more tro able- 
 some effects ; for a flow of Prosperity with continual 
 indidgence of the desires, commonly makes men capricious, 
 selfish, narrow-minded, intractable, contemptuous, and 
 overbeai'ing, until some galhng Disappointment or mis- 
 fortune has taught them, that there are other objects 
 necessary to be thought of, besides that of pleasing them- 
 selves. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4-^1 
 
 ^9r0^p£fltl). — Shakespeare. 
 Peospeeity is the very bond of Love ; 
 Whose fresh complexion aad wliose Heart together 
 Affliction alters. 
 
 |9r0^jpErttg. — Zimmerman. 
 
 TAKE care to be an economist in Prosperity : there i.s 
 no fear of your being one in Adversity. 
 
 Pro^jierita. — Colton. 
 
 THOSE characters, who, like Ventidius, spring from the 
 very dregs of society, and, going through every grada- 
 tion of 'Life, continue, like him, to rise with every change, 
 and who never quit a single step in the ladder, except it 
 he to gaha a higher one, these men are superior to Fortune, 
 and know how to enjoy her Caresses without being the 
 slaves of her Caprice. 
 
 PrO6tTJCnC0. — Sannah More. 
 
 YES, Thou art ever present, Power Supreme ! 
 Not circumscrib'd by Time, nor fixt to Space, 
 Confln'd to altars, nor to temples bound. 
 In Wealth, in Want, in Freedom, or in Chains, 
 In Dungeons or on Thrones, the faithful find thee ! 
 
 Pr0btlfgnce. — Thomson. 
 
 THIS is thy work, Ahnighty Providence ! 
 Whose Power, beyond the stretch of human thought, 
 Eevolves the orbs of Empire ; bids them sink 
 Deep m the dead'ning Night of thy displeasure, 
 Or rise majestic o'er a wondering world. 
 
 PrO^Jt^^e^CE. — Shakespeare, 
 
 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, 
 Eough-hew them how we wiU. 
 
 Pr0&tiICnC0. — Cowper. 
 
 Go, mark the matchless working of the Power 
 That shuts within the seed the future Flower 5 
 Bids these in elegance of form excel. 
 In colour these, and those delight the smell 5 
 Sends Nature forth, the Daughter of the skies, 
 To dance on Earth, and charm all human Eyes. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3^xah^Sntt. — Macine. 
 
 HE who ruleth the raging of the Sea, knows also how 
 to cheek the designs of the Ungodly. — I submit 
 myself with reverence to Ms Holy Will. O Abiier, I fear 
 my God, and I fear none but him. 
 
 Probtlren«. Spenser. 
 
 AND is there care in Heaven ? and is there love 
 In heavenly Spirits to the creatui-es base, 
 That may compassion of their evills move ? 
 There is ; else much more wretched were the case 
 Of men than beasts. But O ! th' exceeding Grace 
 Of highest God that loves liis creatures so, 
 And aU his works with Mercy doth embrace. 
 That blessed angels he sends to and fro 
 To serve to wicked men, to serve his wicked foe ! 
 How oft do they theu- silver bowres leave 
 To come to succom* us that succour want ? 
 How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
 The flitting skyes, like flying Pursuivant, 
 Against fowle feendes to ayd us mihtant ? 
 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 : 
 O why should heavenly God to men have such regard ! 
 
 ^rulfC««. — ShaJcesfeare. 
 HO buys a minute's mirth, to wail a week ? 
 Or sells Eternity to get a toy ? 
 Eor 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 ? 
 
 ^9rxttfencf. — Colton. 
 
 MEN are bom with two Eyes, but with one Tongue, 
 in order that they should see twice as much as they 
 
 say. 
 
 |9rulf0nCC. — STiakespeare. 
 
 '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 oui'selves, our Safety lies. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4^3 
 
 ISuritj). — Eare. 
 
 By the ancients Courage was regarded as practically the 
 main part of Vu-tue : by us, though I hope we are i 
 not less brave, Purity is so regarded now. The former j 
 is evidently the animal excellence, a thing not to be left ■ 
 out when we are balancuig the one against the other. j 
 Still the following considerations weigh more with me. | 
 Courage, when not an instinct, is the creation of society, ! 
 dependmg for occasions of Action (wMcli is essential to j 
 it) on outward circumstances, and deriving much both 
 of its character and its motives from popular Opinion i 
 and Esteem. But Purity is iiiward, secret, self-svifficnig, 
 harmless, and, to crowii 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 : Pm-ity 
 lives and derives its life solely from the Spirit of Q-od. 
 
 ^Urttg. — Shakespeare. 
 There's nothing ill can dwell in such a Temple. 
 If the III spu'it have so fan- a house. 
 Good tilings will strive to dwell with't. 
 
 PUEITY is the feminine, Truth the masculine, of Honour. 
 
 ^ttr^Ult^. — Terence. 
 
 I TAKE it to be a principal rule of Life, not to be too 
 much addicted to any one thing. 
 
 CExtarrel^. — Tacitus. 
 
 THE Hatred of those who are the most nearly con- 
 nected, is the most inveterate. 
 
 Cauaml^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Bewaee 
 
 Of entrance to a Quarrel : but, being in, 
 Bear it that the Opposer may beware of thee. 
 
 a^ait?t. — Juvenal. 
 
 EYERY Error of the mind is the more conspicuous, 
 and culpable, in proportion to the Eank of the 
 I parson who commits it. 
 
42+ ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 aaauft^ mxSS SB^Sm^. — Greville. 
 
 THE neglecting to put yourself above those that ought 
 to be Inferior 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. 
 
 S^aitftS auir ^t^tti. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHEN that the G-eneral is not hke the hive. 
 To whom the foragers shall all repair, 
 What Honey is expected ? Degree being vizarded, 
 Th' unworthiest shows as fau-ly in the mask. 
 The Heavens themselves, the Planets, and this Centre, 
 Observe Degree, Priority, and Place, 
 Insisture, Course, Proportion, Season, Eorm, 
 Office and Custom, in all line of Order : 
 And therefore is the glorious planet Sol 
 In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd 
 Amidst the rest, whose med'cinable eye 
 Corrects the ill aspects of Planets evil, 
 And posts hke 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 dividable shores. 
 The primogenitui'e 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 king meets 
 In mere oppugnancy. The bounded waters 
 WoTild lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 
 And make a sop of aU this sohd Globe : 
 Strength would be lord of Imbecihty, 
 And the rude son would strike his father dead : 
 Force would be right ; or rather. Eight and Wrong 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 42 5 
 
 (Between whose endless jar Justice resides) 
 
 Would lose their names, and so would Justice too. 
 
 Then every thing includes itself in Power, 
 
 Power into WiU, 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 sulFocate, 
 
 Follows the choking. 
 
 And this neglection of Degree it is, 
 
 That by a pace goes backward, with a purpose 
 
 It hath to chmb. The General's disdain' d 
 
 By him one step below j 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. 
 
 aaattonalttg. — QrevUle. 
 
 MAN is said to be a Eational Creature ; but should it 
 not rather be said, that Man is a Creature capable 
 of being Eational, as we say a Parrot is a CreatiU'e capable 
 of Speech ? 
 
 '^Ki^)\\tii. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THAT'S a valiant Flea, that dare eat his breakfast on 
 the lip of a Lion. 
 
 a^ealfUtg. — Johnson. 
 
 WHAT we read with inchnation makes a stronger 
 impression. If we read without inclination, half 
 the mmd 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 
 inchnation to go on, let him not quit it to go to the 
 beginning. He may perhaps not feel again the inclination. 
 
 3^^a^f^nS. — Bacon. 
 
 READ not to contradict and confute, nor to beheve and 
 take for granted, nor to find Talk and Discourse, but 
 to weigh and consider. 
 
 Mca^an. — Sir JPUUp Sidney. 
 
 REASON cannot show itself more reasonable, than to 
 leave reasoning on tilings above Season. 
 
426 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 '^tnim, — Burhe. 
 
 WE are afraid to put men to lire and trade each on his 
 own private stock of Keason ; because we suspect 
 that this stock in each man is small, and that the indivi- 
 duals would do better to avail themselves of the general 
 Bank and Capital of Nations and of Ages. 
 
 3S.^a^0n. — La RocTiefoucauld. 
 
 HE is not a reasonable Man who by chance stumbles 
 upon Eeason, but he who derives it from Knowledge, 
 from Discernment, and from Taste. 
 
 ^tKim. — Anon. 
 
 ONE can never repeat too often, that Eeason, as it 
 exists in man, is only our intellectual eye, and that, 
 hke the eye, to see, it needs Light, — to see clearly and 
 far, it needs the Light of Heaven. 
 
 ^^cBcHuin. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT rein can hold Kcentious Wickedness, 
 When down the hiU he holds his fierce career ? 
 We may as bootless spend our vaia command 
 Upon th' enraged Soldiers in their spoil. 
 Or send precepts to th' Leviathan. 
 
 3&etiU]&tnS. — Shakespeare. 
 
 WHAT though the mast be now blown over-boaj-d, 
 The cable broke, the holding Anchor lost. 
 And half our sailors swaUow'd in the flood ? 
 Yet lives our Pilot stUl : Is't meet, that he 
 Shoxild 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 mueli, 
 Whiles, in his moan, the Ship sphts on the rock, 
 Which Industry and Courage might have sav'd? 
 Ah, what a shame ! ah, what a fault were this ! 
 
 S^eftultuijj. — Fuller. 
 
 IN all Eeprehensions, observe to express rather thy Love 
 than thy Anger ; and strive rather to convince than 
 exasperate : but if the Matter do reqmre any special 
 Indignation, let it appear to be the zeal of a displeased 
 Eriend, rather than the passion of a provoked Enemy. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 427 
 
 ^\it '^tibxit. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 A Mak, whose blood 
 Is very Snow-broth ; one who never feels 
 The wanton stings and motions of the sense; 
 But doth rebate and blunt liis natural edge 
 With profits of the mind, Study and Fast. 
 
 ^ttttatian. — Savuu. 
 
 DIVEESIONS are the most properly applied, to case 
 and relieve those who are oppressed, by being too 
 mucli employed. Those that are idle have no need of 
 them, and yet they, above all others, give themselves up 
 to them. To unbend oru- Thoughts, when they are too 
 much stretched by our Cai-es, is not more natural than it 
 is necessary ; but to tiirn our whole Life into a hohday, 
 is not only ridiculous, but destroyeth Pleasure instead of 
 promoting it. 
 
 SRcfincmeut. — Greville. 
 
 TEUE Delicacy, as true Generosity, is more wounded 
 by an offence from itself, if I may be allowed the 
 expression, than to itself. 
 
 Mc&lttment. — La Bruyere. 
 
 THE most delicate, the most sensible of all Pleasures, 
 consists in promoting the pleasures of others. 
 
 3^£filtCment. — Greville. 
 
 THERE seems to be something satisfactory resulting 
 from every defect in Human Nature ! and it is in that 
 satisfaction, methinks, that all the endearing refinements i 
 of Society consist ; there are a thousand little and un- i 
 definable Delicacies in our conversation, our looks, and \ 
 even Grestures arising from these Defects, which mutually j 
 require to be understood and returned; nay, there are I 
 httle 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 
 tiU an opportunity offers to do it ; and hence that first of 
 Concerts, the play and harmony of according Mmds ! 
 
 3a«5tl«meut. — Hume. 
 
 IE refined sense, and exalted sense, be not so useful as 
 Common Sense, their rarity, their novelty, and the 
 nobleness of then* objects, make some compensation, and 
 render them the admiration of Mankind. 
 
4-28 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 3R0tlECtt0n. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 0 ENGLAND ! — model to tlay inward greatness, 
 Like little body with a mighty Heart,— 
 What might' st thou do, that Honour would thee do, 
 Were aU thy children kind and natural ! 
 
 3Rcf0rm. — Lavafer. 
 
 HE who reforms himself, has done more towards re- 
 forming the Pubhc, than a crowd of noisy, impotent 
 Patriots. 
 
 ^efavmi. — Coiton. 
 
 CHARLES EOX said that Restorations were the most 
 bloody of all Revolutions ; and he might have added, 
 that Reformations are the best mode of preventing the 
 necessity of either. ' 
 '^t%XtX, — Shakes]) eare. 
 
 WHAT ! old Acquaintance ! could not aU. this flesh t 
 Keep in a little life ? Poor J ack, farewell ! i 
 I could have better spar'd a better man. | 
 
 3R0ltflUlU. — Burhe. ' 
 
 WE know, and what is better, we feel inwardly, that 
 Religion is the basis of civil Society, and the source 
 of all good and of aU 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 
 nmety-nine in a hundi-ed of the people of England would \ 
 not prefer to Impiety. 
 
 IReliciifln. — Save. 
 
 WORDSWORTH has told us the law of his own 
 mind, the folfilment 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, we are assured by those most com- 
 fortable words, " Except ye become as little cliildi-en, ye 
 shall not enter the Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 JSitli^im. — 8. T. Coleridge. 
 
 UNLESS Christianity be viewed and felt in a high and 
 comprehensive way, how large a portion of om- intel- 
 lectual and moral Natm-e does it leave without Object and 
 Action ! 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. r-g 
 
 SKeltfltrnt. — Colton. 
 
 CHAELES the Fourth, after his abdication, amused 
 himself, in his retu-ement at St. Juste, by attempting 
 to make a number of watches go exactly together. Being 
 constantly foiled in this attempt, he exclaimed, " What a 
 fool have I been to neglect my own concerns, and to waste 
 my whole Life in a vain attempt to make all men think 
 alike on matters of Eehgion, when I cannot even make a 
 few "Watches keep time together." 
 
 a^£ltst0tt. — Fuller. 
 
 PLACE not thy amendment only in increasing thy 
 Devotion, but in bettering thy Life. This is the 
 damning Hypocrisy of this age ; that it shghts all good 
 Morahty, and spends its Zeal in matters of Ceremony, 
 and a form of Grodhr.ess without the Power of it. 
 
 3Srtt5UJit. — South. 
 
 TEUTH, hke a stately dame, will not be seen, nor show 
 herself at the first visit, nor match with the "Under- 
 standing upon an ordinary Com-tship or Address. Long 
 and tedious attendances must be given, and the hardest 
 fetigues endured and digested: nor did ever the most 
 pregnant Wit in the world bring forth anything great, 
 lasting, and considerable, without some Pain and Travail, 
 some Pangs and Throes before the dehvery. Now all this 
 that I have said is to show the force of diligence in the 
 1 investigation of Truth, and particularly of the noblest of 
 ' all Truths, which is that of Eehgion. 
 
 3S^0ltfltmt. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 YOU may depend upon it, Eehgion is, in its essence, 
 the most gentlemanly tiling in the World. It will 
 alone gentilize, if unmixed with cant ; and I know 
 nothing else that wiU, alone. Certainly not the Ai-my, 
 wliich is thought to be the grand embellisher of Manners. 
 
 3^Itfl{0n. — Sare. 
 
 MANY people make their own God ; and he is much 
 what the French may mean, when they talk of La 
 Ion Bieu, — veiy indulgent, rather weak, near at hand 
 when we want any tiling, but far away out of sight when 
 we have a mind to do vn-ong. Such a God is as much an 
 Idol as if he were an image of stone. 
 
+30 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTR; 
 
 Bcltstnn. — Colton. 
 
 RELTG-ION, 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. 
 
 aarftfllOn. — Lavater. 
 
 THE more Honesty a man has, the less he affects the 
 air of a Saint. 
 
 aa^Iifltrfn. — Colton. 
 
 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 Religion. 
 
 ^t\i%iQn. — Anon. 
 
 RELIGrlON is the whole Bible : Sects pick out a part 
 of it. But what whole? The Living whole, to be 
 sm'e — not the Dead whole : the Spieit ! not the letter. 
 
 J^tM^im. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 IE a man is not rising upwards to be an Angel, depend 
 upon it, he is sinking downwards to be a DevU. He 
 cannot stop at the Beast. The most savage of men are 
 not Beasts ; they are worse, a great deal worse. 
 
 Mritflton. — South. 
 
 HE that is a Good Man, is tlu-ee-quarters of his way 
 towards the being a Good Christian, wheresoever he 
 Kves, or whatsoever he is called. 
 
 '^t\x%xan. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 IE 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 RufSans or Fanatics, and one as likely 
 as the other. 
 
 McUgtOn. — Pascal. 
 
 LET it not be imagined that the Life of a good Christian 
 must necessarily be a Life of Melancholy and Gloomi- 
 ness ; for he only resigns some Pleasures, to enjoy others 
 infinitely greater. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW ANJD OLD. 4-31 
 
 aaeltflion. — SeUen. 
 
 THEY that cry down Moral Honesty, cry down that 
 which is a great part of my Eehgion — my Duty 
 towards Grod, and my Duty towards Man. Wliat 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, Morahty 
 must not be without Eehgion ; for if so, it may change, 
 as I see convenience. Eehgion must govern it. 
 
 %t\i%xm\, — Melmoth. 
 
 I CANNOT but take notice of the wondei-ful love of 
 God to mankind, who, in order to encom-age obedience 
 to his Laws, has annexed a present, as well as future 
 reward to a Grood Life ; and has so interwoven our Duty 
 and Happiness together, that while we are discharging our 
 obhgations to the one, we are, at the same time, making 
 the best provision for the other. 
 
 3aclta[(0n. — Anon. 
 
 LIKE every other power, Eeligion too, in widening her 
 empire, may impair her sway. It has been seen too 
 often, both in Pliilosophy and elsewhere, that when people 
 have fancied that the world was becoming Christian, 
 Chi'istianity was ia fact becoming worldly. 
 
 SeieItSt0n. — Anon. 
 
 WHEN a man is told that the whole of Eeligion and 
 Morahty is summed up in the two Commandments, 
 to love God, and to love our neighbour, he is ready to cry, 
 like Charoba in Gebh', at the fii-st sight of the Sea, " Is 
 this the mighty Ocean ? is this all ? " Yes ! aU : but how 
 small a part of it do your eyes survey ! only trust yourself 
 to it ; laimch out upon it ; sail abroad over it : you will 
 find it has no end : it wiU carry you round the World. 
 
 aacItCJtOn. — Fuller. 
 
 MEASUEE not Men by Sundays, without regarding 
 what they do aU the Week after. 
 
 SaeltgtOtl. — Colton. 
 rilHEEE can be no Cln-istianity where there is no Charity, 
 JL but the censorious cultivate the forms of Eehgion, that 
 they may more freely indulge in the only pleasure of their 
 lives, that of calumniating those who to their other failings 
 *dd not the Sin of Hypocrisy. 
 
432 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH ; 
 
 SKeltflUfn. — CoUon. 
 
 ALL wlio have been great and good without Christianity, 
 would have been much greater and better with it. If 
 there be, amongst the Sons of men, a single exception to 
 this maxim, the divine Socrates may be allowed to put in 
 the sti'ongest 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 uwpromised land. 
 
 3^£l{flt0tt. — Anon. 
 
 WHO are the most godhke of men? The question 
 might be a puzzling one, imless our language an- 
 swered it for us : the Q-odhest. 
 
 a^eltflUJU. — CoUon. 
 
 THAT country where the Clergy have the most influence, 
 and use it with the most Moderation, is England. 
 
 3a«Itfltan. — Fope. 
 
 Foe Virtvie's self may too much zeal be had : 
 The worst of madmen is a Saint run mad. 
 
 MrtlStOn. — CoUon. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY is a goddess, whose head indeed is in 
 Heaven, but whose feet are upon Earth ; she attempts 
 more than she accomphshes, and promises more than she 
 performs ; she can teach us to hear of the calamities of 
 others with Magnanimity; but it is Rehgion only that can 
 teach us to bear our own with Resignation. 
 
 McItfiiOn. — CoUon. 
 
 MEN will wrangle for Eehgion ; write for it ; fight for 
 it ; die for it ; any thing but — live for it. 
 
 McllCJlOn. — Addison. 
 
 HYPOCRISY itself does great Honour, or rather 
 Justice, to Religion, and tacitly acknowledges it to be 
 an ornament to human nature. The Hypocrite woidd 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 mankind. 
 
 3^t\i%iaXi, — Fope. 
 
 THERE is no tiling wanting to make all rational and 
 disinterested people in the world of one Rehgion, but 
 that they should talk together every day. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 ileltfluin. — Colton. 
 
 AS all who frequent any place of Public Worship, how- 
 ever they may differ from the doctrines there dehvered, 
 are expected to comport themselves with Seriousness and 
 Gravity, so in rehgious Controversies, Eidicule ought 
 never to be resorted to on either side. 
 
 Meltflt'on. — Sprat. 
 
 THE Head truly enhghtened will presently have a 
 wonderful influence in pm-ifying the Heart ; and the 
 Heart really affected with Goodness, will much conduce 
 to the directing of the Head. 
 
 M£'lta:t0n. — Colton, 
 
 IT has been said, that men carry on a kind of coasting 
 trade with Eehgion. In the voyage of life, they pro- 
 i'ess to be in search of Heaven, but take care not to 
 veutm-e so far in their approximations to it, as entirely 
 to lose sight of the Earth ; and should thefr frail vessel 
 be in danger of Shipwreck, they -will gladly tlirow theh 
 darling Vices overboard, as other Mariners their treasm-es, 
 only to fish them up again when the Storm is over. 
 
 aSellfltan. — Baxter. 
 
 IT is one thing to take God and Heaven for your 
 portion, as behevers 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 HeU ; and another thhig 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 m our necessity, 
 and to seek the world before it, and give God that the 
 flesh can spare. Thus differeth the Eehgion of serious 
 Christians, and of carnal worldly Hypocrites. 
 
 M^ItSt0n. — Dryden. 
 
 BUT whither went his Soid, let such relate 
 Wlio search the secrets of a future state : 
 Divines can say but what themselves beheve ; 
 Strong proofs they have, but not demonstrative : 
 For, were all plain, then ah sides must agree, 
 And Eaith itself be lost in certainty. 
 To live uprightly then is sm-e the best. 
 To save ourselves, and not to damn the rest. 
 
434 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^t\i%ian. — Pojpe. 
 
 AN Atheist is but a mad ridiculous derider of Piety ; 
 but a Hypocrite mates a sober jest of Grod and 
 Keligion ; he finds it easier to be upon his knees than to 
 rise to a good action. 
 
 aari{flt0n. — Baxter. 
 
 IF 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 di'aw forth all our graces, and increase each in 
 its proper object, and to hold them to it tiU the Work 
 prospers in our hands, — this, this is the difficulty. 
 
 S^Cllglfln, — Shakespeare. 
 
 LOVE 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 faU'st, 
 Thou faU'st a blessed Martyr. 
 
 3S«It5tOn. — South. 
 
 THE Pleasure of the EeHgious Man is an easy and 
 portable Pleasure, such an one as he carries about in 
 his Bosom, without alarming either the Eye or the Envy 
 of the World. — A man putting all his Pleasures into this 
 one, is like a traveller's putting all his goods into one 
 J ewel 5 the Talue is the same, and the convenience greater. 
 
 aa«ItStOn. — Anon. 
 
 THE Religious are often charged with judging un- 
 charitably 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. 
 
 McItSt0U. — Young. 
 
 Know, 
 
 Without Star, or Angel, for their Guide, 
 Who worship God, shall find him,, Humble Love, 
 And not proud E-eason, keeps the door of Heaven ; 
 Love finds admission, whore proud Science fails. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 435 
 
 3^t\x%vavi. — CoUon. 
 
 THEEB are tkree modes of bearing the Ills of Life : 
 by Indifference, wliieh is the most common ; by 
 Pliilosophy, which is the most ostentatious ; and by 
 Eehgion, which is the most effectual. 
 
 Ilritflt0n. — Sare. 
 
 THE Imagination and the Feehngs have each their 
 Truths, as well as the Eeason. The absorption of 
 the three, so as to concentrate them in the same point, is 
 one of the universahties requisite in a true Eehgion. 
 
 aacItStOU. — CoUon. 
 
 IN all places, and in all times, those Eehgionists who 
 have believed too much, have been more inclined to 
 Violence and Persecution, than those who have beUeved 
 too httle. 
 
 3^Clt5t0n. — From the Latin. 
 A MAN devoid of Eeligion, is hke a Horse without a bridle. 
 
 Mcltfltnu. — Coivper. 
 
 IVENEEATE the man whose Heart is warm, 
 Wliose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose Life 
 Coincident, exhibit lucid proof 
 That he is honest in the Sacred Catise. 
 
 EcItfltOUS COIttrflftcr^g. — Bryden. 
 
 I 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 fii'e that world 
 Wliich you were sent by preaching but to warm. 
 
 McKfltOU^ C0tttrO&er^g. — Bryden. 
 
 IS not the Care of Souls a load sufficient ? 
 Are not yovir holy stipends paid for this ? 
 Were you not bred apart from worldly noise, 
 To study Sotils, their Cures and their Diseases ? 
 The province of the Soul is large enough 
 To fill up every cranny of yom- time. 
 And leave you much to answer, if one '.'vetch 
 Be damn'd by yom' neglect. 
 
4-3 6 ILL TTBTBA TlONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 %tmzm'hxmxtZ, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Eemembeb 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 Obseryation copied there : 
 And thy commandment all alone shall hve 
 Within the Book and volume of my Brain, 
 Unmix'd with baser matter. 
 
 McmmlirancC. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 Dispute it hke 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. 
 
 '^zmaxit, — Scott. 
 
 HIGrH minds, of native Pride and force, 
 Most deeply feel thy pangs, Eemorse ! 
 Tear for their scourge mean Villains have : 
 Thou art. the torturer of the Brave. 
 
 3^t$mtmtt. — South. 
 
 REPENTANCE hath a purifying power, and every 
 Tear is of a cleansing Yirtue ; but these penitential 
 clouds must be still kept dropping ; one shower will not 
 sufEice ; for Repentance is not one single action, but a 
 course. 
 
 ^t^tntmct, — Hare. 
 
 WE look to our last sickness for Repentance, unmind- 
 ful 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. 
 
 M^entance. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0 "WRETCHED state ! O Bosom, black as Death! 
 O limed Soul ; that struggling to be free. 
 Art more engag'd ! Help, Angels, make assay ! 
 Bow, stubborn knees ! and. Heart, with strings of steel. 
 Be soft as sinews of the new-bom babe. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4.37 
 
 3SepClttanCE, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Thet say, best Men are moulded out of faults : 
 And, for the most, become much moi'e the better 
 For being a little bad. 
 
 HABITUAL Evils change not on a sudden, 
 But many days must pass, and many Sor 
 Conscious Remorse and Anguish must be felt, 
 To cm-b Desire, to break the stubborn Will, 
 And work a second nature in the Soul, 
 Ere Virtue can resxmie the place she lost. 
 
 REPLY not to me with a Eool-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. 
 
 3^0jpcntauC0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 )TJR Repentance is not so much Regret for the Evil 
 we have done as Fear of its Consequences to us. 
 
 THOU hast cast away thyself, being like thyself ; 
 A Madman so long, now a Fool : What, think' st 
 Chat the bleak an-, thy boisterous Chamberlain, 
 Win put thy shirt on warm ? Will these moss'd trees. 
 That have outhved the Eagle, page thy heels. 
 And skip, when thovi point' st out? Will the bold brook, 
 Candied with Ice, caudle thy morning taste. 
 To cure thy o'emight's surfeit? call the creatures,— 
 Whose naked natm-es hve in all the spite 
 Of wreakful Heaven ; whose bare unhoused trunks, 
 To the conflicting elements exposed, 
 iinswer mere Nature, — bid them flatter thee. 
 
 0 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 Parity and native Sweetness. 
 
 S^t^mtmitt, — Howe. 
 
 2K0Jp0ntancC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 3llejpr00f. — Shakespeare. 
 
 E^jputattnn, — Seiveii. 
 
4-38 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 aae^tflliattOn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MY 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 rampiiig Lion slept ; 
 Whose top branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree. 
 And kept low shrubs from Winter's powerful wind. 
 
 M^^{StanC0, — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 You must not tliink, 
 That we are made of Stuff so flat and dull. 
 That we can let oui* Beard be shook with Danger, 
 And think it Pastime. 
 
 aa£:S0lutUJn. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 BE stirring as the time ; be Eu-e with Eire ; 
 Threaten tke Threat'ner, and outface the brow 
 Of bragging Horror : so shall inferior eyes, 
 Tha,, borrow then- behaviours from the Grreat, 
 Grow great by your example, and put on 
 The dauntless spirit of Resolution. 
 
 M^^jpect. — Ch-eville. 
 Respect is better procured by exacting than soliciting it. 
 
 ^t{t='^t^^ttX, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 To thine ownself be true ; 
 And it must follow, as the Night the Day, 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
 
 M£^jp0n^tSitItt2. — Shakespeare. 
 'Tis ever common. 
 That men are men-iest when they are from Home. 
 
 '^ZitUiintii, — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 ? rpiS plain there is not in Nature a point of stabihty to 
 JL be found ; every thing either ascends or dechnes : 
 when Wars are ended abroad, Sedition begins at home ; 
 and when men are freed from fighting for Necessity, they 
 quarrel through Ambition. 
 
 %tiyx\H, — Cotton. 
 
 To judge by the event, is an error all abuse, and all 
 commit ; for, in every instance. Courage, if crowned 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4-39 
 
 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 Coui't, or a rod at a Court-Martial. 
 
 a^ttrcntent. — Goldsmith. 
 
 SWEET was the sound, when oft, at Evening's close, 
 Up yonder hiU the Village Murmm- rose ; 
 There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, 
 The mingling notes came soften' d from below ; 
 The Swain responsive as the Milk-maid 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 wmd. 
 And the loud Laugh that spoke the vacant mind : 
 These ah in sweet Confusion sought the Shade, 
 And fiU'd each pause the Nightingale had made. 
 
 M«ttremcut. — Milton. 
 
 AND may at last my weary Age 
 Find out the peaceful Hermitage, 
 The hahy gown and mossy cell, 
 Where I may sit and rightly speU 
 Of every star that Heaven doth shew. 
 And every herb that sips the dew ; 
 Till old Experience do attain 
 To sometlhng like prophetic strain. 
 
 McttomClTt. -— Spenser. 
 
 THE Fields did laugh, and Floures did fresWy spring, 
 The Trees did bud, and early blossomes bore, 
 And all the quhe of Bhds did sweetly sing, 
 And told that gar din's pleasm-es m then- Carohng. 
 
 ifltttomcnt. — Spenser. 
 
 TO them that Hst, the World's gay showes I leave, 
 And to great ones such folhes doe forgive. 
 Which oft through Pride doe their own periU 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 ah the night m silver Sleepe I spend, 
 And all the day, to what I hst I doe attend. 
 
440 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 %ttixtvaznt. — Cowper. 
 
 THE fall of Waters and the song of birds, 
 And hills that echo to the distant herds, 
 Are luxuries exceUiug all the glare 
 The World can boast, and her chief jPavourites share. 
 
 "^tiixtmtXXi. — Thomson. 
 
 NO 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. 
 Gruard, while 'tis thine, thy plulosophic Ease, 
 And ask no J oy but that of Vu-tuous Peace ; 
 That bids defiance to the storms of Eate, 
 High Bhss is only for a higher state. 
 
 aa^ttrmgltt. — Smollett. 
 
 NATUEE I'll court in her sequester'd haunts. 
 By Moimtain, Meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell ; 
 Where the pois'd Lark liis evenmg ditty chaunts, 
 And Health, and Peace, and Contemplation dwell. 
 
 3&ttixtmmt — Souther/. 
 
 BUT peace was on the Cottage, and the fold 
 Erom court intrigue, fi-om bickering faction far ; 
 Beneath the chestnut tree Love's tale was told ; 
 
 And to the tinkhng of the light guitar, 
 Sweet stoop' d the western Sun, sweet rose the evenint. 
 Star. ^ 
 dSittivmxmt — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 HOW much they err, who, to their interest bluxd, 
 Shght the calm Peace which fi-om Eetirement flows ! 
 And while they think their fleeting joys to bind, 
 Banish the tranquO. bhss which Heaven for Man design'd ! 
 M^ttrment. — Thomson. 
 
 WHAT, what is Virtue but Eepose of Mmd, 
 A pm-e 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 mahgnant 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' enhven'd Skies, and make them still more gay. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 441 
 
 JlrttrimTCnt. — Johnson. 
 
 COULD' ST tlioxi resign tlie park and play, content, 
 For tlie fail- banks of Severn or of Trent ; 
 There might' st thou find some elegant retreat, 
 Some hireling Senator's deserted seat ; 
 And stretch thy prospects o'er the smihng land, 
 For less than rent the dungeons of tlie Strand ; 
 There prune thy walks, support thy drooping flow'rs, 
 Dii'ect thy Rivulets, and twine thy bow'rs ; 
 And, while thy beds a cheap repast alford, 
 Despise the dainties of a venal Lord : 
 There ev'ry bush with Nature's music rings, 
 There ev'ry breeze bears Health upon its wings ; 
 On all thy hotirs Security shall smile. 
 And bless thy evening walk and morning toil. 
 
 McttomgUt. — Cowper. 
 
 THE Statesman, Lawyer, Merchant, Man of Trade, 
 Pants for the refuge of some rural Shade, 
 Where all his long anxieties forgot 
 Amid the chai-ms 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 tliinks he sees. 
 Lay his old age upon the lap of Ease, 
 Improve the remnant of liis wasted span, 
 And having liv'd a Trifler, die a Man. 
 
 ^tixXtWXtWt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HOW Use doth breed a Habit in a man ! 
 This shadowy desert, imfrequented woods, 
 I better brook than flourisliing peopled Towns. 
 
 M^ttrmtnt. — Thomson. 
 
 THE best of men have ever loved Eepose : 
 They hate to mingle in the filthy fray. 
 Where the Soul sours, and gradual Eancour grows, 
 Imbitter'd more from peevish day to day. 
 Ev'n 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 Cumsean shore 
 Eetiiing, tasted Joy he never knew before. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^ttixtmtnt — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH, Psyche, liappy in thine Ignorance ! 
 Couldst thou but shun this Heart-tormenting banej 
 Be but content, nor daringly advance 
 To meet tlie bitter horn' of tlu'eatened 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! 
 
 Metirmcnt. — Beattie. 
 
 0, HOW canst thou renounce the boundless store 
 Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! 
 The warbhng woodland, the resounding shore, 
 The pomp of gi'oves, and garnitm-e of fields ; 
 All that the genial ray of Morning gilds, 
 And ah that echoes to the song of Even, 
 All that the Mountain's sheltering bosom shields, 
 And all the dread magnificence of Heaven, 
 O, how canst thou I'enounce and hope to be forgiven ! 
 
 M0trt5iutl0n. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THAT high AU-seer which I daUied with. 
 Hath tm'n'd my feigned Pi'ayer 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. 
 
 Metrn^jpecttfllt. — Southey. 
 
 I CAN remember, with unsteady feet 
 Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasm-e 
 In Flowers, and Toys, and Sweetmeats, things which long 
 Have lost their power to please ; wliich, when I see them, 
 Raise only now a melancholy wish, 
 I were the httle Trifler once agam 
 Who could be pleas' d so hghtly. 
 
 %tttai^ttiia\X, — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Feom the sad years of Life 
 We sometimes do short Hours, yea. Minutes strike. 
 Keen, bhssful, bright, never to be forgotten ; 
 Wliich, thro' the dreary gloom of Tune o'erpast, 
 Shine like fair sunny spots on a wUd waste. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. +4? 
 
 3at;tr0^pjcttmt. — Sorace. 
 
 HE possesses dominion over himself, and is happy, who 
 can every day say, "I have hved." To-morrow the 
 Heavenly Father may either involve the "World in dark 
 clouds, or cheer it with clear Sunshine ; he will not, how- 
 ever, render ineffectual things which have already taken 
 place. 
 
 BctrO^JJ^Ctlfln. — Steele. 
 
 A MAN advanced in years, that thinks fit to look back 
 upon his former Life, and caU that only Life which 
 was passed with Satisfaction and Enjoyment, exchidmg 
 all parts which were not pleasant to him, wiU find himself 
 very young, if not in his Infancy. 
 
 3Rgtr0^JI£Ctt0n. — Martial. 
 
 OF no day can the Eetrospect cause pam to a good 
 man, nor has one passed away which he is tmwilling 
 to remember : the period of his Life seems prolonged by 
 his good acts ; and we may be said to hve twice, when 
 we can reflect with Pleasm-e on the days that are gone. 
 
 3ac6cnfle. — Bacon. 
 
 He that studieth Revenge keepeth his own wounds gresn. 
 
 ^0ia\yxXiamiti. — Sir T. More. 
 
 WHO quarrel more than Beggars ? Who does more 
 earnestly long for a change than he that is uneasy 
 iu liis present circimistances ? And who run to create 
 Confusions with so desperate a Boldness, as those who, 
 having nothing to lose, hope to gain by them ? 
 
 ISiittftS. — Sterne. 
 
 IF thou art rich, then show the Grreatness of thy Fortune, 
 or what is better, the Greatness of thy Soul, in tlie 
 meekness of thy Conversation ; condescend to men of low 
 estate, support the distressed, and patronise the neglected. 
 Be great. 
 
 3^tcl^£^. — Montaigne. 
 
 PLENTY and Indigence depend upon the opinion every 
 one has of them ; and Riches, no more than Glory ov 
 Health, have no more Beauty or Pleasure, than their pos- 
 sessor is pleased to lend them. 
 
444- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 S^t't^e^. — Lord Bacon. 
 
 BE not penny- wise ; Eiches have Wings, and sometimeg 
 they fly away of themselves, sometimes they must bs 
 set flying to bring in more. 
 
 J^i^ti. — Young. 
 
 MUCH Learning shows how httle mortals know ; 
 Miich "Wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy : 
 At best, it babies us with endless toys. 
 And keeps us children tUl we drop to dust. 
 As monkeys at a mirror stand amaz'd, 
 They fail to find what they so plainly see ; 
 Thus men, in sliining 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. 
 
 HSi.i^ti. — Sir T. Brown. 
 
 HE hath Eiches sufiicient, who hath enough to be 
 charitable. 
 
 MttftCUfe. — Anon. 
 
 EVEEY age has its besetting sins ; every Condition its 
 attendant evils ; every state of Society its Diseases, 
 tliat it is especially liable to be attacked by. One of the 
 pests which dog Civilization, the more so the further it 
 advances, is the Eear of Eidicule ; and seldom has the 
 Contagion been so obnoxious as in England at this day. 
 Is there anybody hving, 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 run- 
 agate from Duty ? who has not stifled his best feehngs ? 
 who has not mortified his noblest desu'es ? solely to escape 
 being laughed at ? and not once merely ; but tune 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 otu'selves, we too join the 
 Pack who go about laughing down others. 
 
 e^arl^) aat^t'Uti;. — Doddridge, 
 
 THE 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 445 
 
 ^txtmt 3£ltfl0Ur. — BwJce. 
 
 AN extreme Rigovu is sure to arm every tiling against 
 it, and at length to relax into a supine Neglect. 
 
 3aum0Ur. — Shakespeare. 
 
 E/UMOTTE 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 upon it. 
 
 aattmOUr. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Loud Eumoui' speaks : 
 I, from the Orient to the droopmg West, 
 Makuig the wind my post-horse, still unfold 
 The acts commenced on this ball of Earth : 
 Upon my tongues continual Slanders ride ; 
 The wliich in every language I pronounce. 
 Stuffing the ears of Men with false reports. 
 
 ^act'tficg. — From the Greek. 
 
 HE that offers in sacrifice, O Pamphilus, a multitude of 
 Bulls and of Q-oats, of Golden Vestments, or purple 
 Grarments, or figm-es of Ivoiy, or precious Gems, and 
 imagines by this to concLhate 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 Vu-gins, no Adulterer, no 
 Robber or Murderer for the sake of lucre. Covet not, 0 
 Pamphilus, even the tlrread of another man's needle ; foi 
 God, who is near thee, perpetually beholds thy actions, 
 
 ^atUJtg. — 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 paU'd Victim ! Life-abhorring gloom. 
 
 ^attetj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 AS Siu-feit is the Father of much East, 
 So every scope by the immoderate use 
 Turns to Restraint : Owv natures do pursue 
 (Like rats that ravia dowai their proper bane) 
 A thirsty Evil ; and when we drink, we die. 
 
446 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^attctg. — Shakespeare. 
 A SxJEFEiT of the sweetest things 
 The deepest loathmg to the Stomach brings. 
 
 ^KtittjO. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The cloy'd WiU, 
 (That satiate yet unsatisfied Desire, 
 That tub both fiU'd and runmng,) ravening first 
 The Lanab, longs after for the Garbage. 
 
 ^attetg. — Steele. 
 
 PLEASURE, when it is a Man's chief pm-pose, disap- 
 points itself; and the constant apphcation to it palls 
 the faculty of enjoying it, thoiigh it leaves the sense of 
 our inability for that we wish, with a disrehsh of every 
 thing else. Thus the intermediate seasons of the Man of 
 Pleasure are more heavy than one would impose upon the 
 vilest Criminal. 
 
 ^atto. — Fope. 
 
 CURST 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-ey'd Virgin steal a tear. 
 
 ^atttrtfag ^i^t. — Bit/rns. 
 
 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 mom at ease and rest to spend. 
 And weary, o'er the Moor, his course does hameward bend. 
 
 ^atlUtCJ. — From the Latin. 
 
 NO Gain is so certaia as that which proceeds from thf 
 economical use of what you have. 
 
 ^cautfal. — Byron. 
 
 THE World, as usual, wickedly inclin'd 
 To see a Kingdom or a House o'erturn'd, 
 Wliisper'd he had a mistress ; some said two. 
 But for domestic quarrels one will do. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 447 
 
 fijcanifal. — Swift. 
 
 NOR 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 Beputation down ; 
 Or, by the tossing of the fan. 
 Describe the Lady and the Man. 
 
 ^«J)ttCt^m. — Colton. 
 
 AS 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 incm'able 
 than that of the common herd, whom he despises, and 
 would fain instruct, 
 
 ^CCpttci^m. — Oreville. 
 
 Httmait Knowledge is the parent of Doubt. 
 
 §)tm\tt. — Anon. 
 
 BACOTfS prophecies of the advance of Science have 
 been fulfilled far beyond what even he could have 
 anticipated. For Knowledge partakes of Infinity: it 
 widens with om' 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 ovm times, approach- 
 ing 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, liitherto 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 ia the ground the bended twigs took root, and 
 Daughters grew about the Mother Ti-ee, a pillared shade 
 liigh overarched .... and echoing walks between" . . . . 
 walks where Poetry may wander, and wreathe her blossoms 
 around the massy stems, and where Religion may hym.n 
 the praises of that "Wisdom, of which Science erects the 
 Hundi-ed-aisled Temple. 
 
44-8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 C^lJ ^trtjltuw^. — Boyle. 
 
 A MATCHLESS Temple, where I delight to be, to 
 contemplate the Beauty, the Symmetry, and the 
 Magnificence of the Structure, and to increase my awe, 
 and excite my devotion to the Deity there preached and 
 adored. 
 
 W)t ^ta. — Byron. 
 
 THOU glorious muTor, where the Almighty's form 
 Glasses itself in Tempests : in all time, 
 Calm or convuls'd — in Breeze, or G-ale, or Storm, 
 Icing the pole, or ia the torrid chme 
 Dark-heaYing ;— boundless, endless, and sublime — ■ 
 The image of Eternity — the Thi'oue 
 Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime 
 The monsters of the deep are made ; each Zone 
 Obeys thee ; thou goest forth. Dread, Eathomless, Aloncr 
 
 %\yz §)ZK. — Byron. 
 
 OH, who can teU ? 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— Pleastire 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 ? 
 
 ^ift ^tK. — Sir A. Sunt. 
 
 ILOYED to stand on some high beethng Eock, 
 Or dusky brow of savage Promontory, 
 Watcliing the Waves with all their white crests dancing 
 Come, hke thick-plum' d Squadrons, to the shore 
 Gallantly bounding. 
 
 W^Z ^ZK, — Byron. 
 
 ROLL on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll ! 
 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
 Man Marks the Earth with ruin — ^his control 
 Stops with the shore; — iipon 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, hke a drop of rain. 
 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
 Without a Grave, imknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unkno<wi» 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 449 
 
 ^Ca. — Byron. 
 
 How happy they, 
 Who, from the toil and tumiilt of theu' Lives, 
 Steal to look down where nought but Ocean strives ! 
 
 ^ttXtt^. — Colton. 
 
 SECEECY has been well termed the Soul of all great 
 designs. Perhaps more has been eifected by conceal- 
 ing our own intentions, than by discovering those of our 
 Enemy. But great men succeed in both. 
 
 ^ttXtt^. — Johnson. 
 
 TO teU our own Secrets is generally Folly, but that 
 Folly is without Guilt; to communicate those witli 
 wliichwe are intrusted is always Treachery, and Treachery 
 for the most part combined with Folly. 
 
 ^ttCttyi, — Chesterfield. 
 
 IF 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 
 mterest to tell it. But Women and Young Men are very 
 apt to tell what Secrets they kiiow, from the vanity of 
 having been trusted. 
 
 ^eCl'CCg. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 OW can we expect another to keep our Secret if we 
 . caimot keep it ourselves ? 
 
 ^wurttg. — Colton. 
 
 IT is fortunate for the interests of Society, that the great 
 mass of mankind are neither Kings nor PrimeMinisters, 
 and that men are so impotent that they can seldom bring , 
 Evil upon others without more or less of danger to them- 
 selves. Thus then it is that Public Strength, Security, 
 and Confidence grow out of Private Weakness, Danger, 
 and Fear. 
 
 Security. — Jiume. 
 
 SECUEITY 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, 
 %ough contrary to Security, has a like influence. 
 
 a a 
 
450 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH ; 
 
 ^Z^Uttxan. — Goldsmith. 
 Ah, tui'n thine eyes 
 Where the poor houseless shiv'ring Female lies : 
 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 Vu-tue fled, 
 Near her Betrayer's door she lays her head. 
 And, pinch'd with cold, and shrmking from the show'r 
 With heavy Heart deplores that luckless hour, ' 
 Wlien idly first, ambitious of the Town, 
 She left her Wheel and robes of country brown. 
 
 ^^^fU(:^tmt. — Moore. 
 
 BY Heaven ! I would rather for ever forswear 
 The elysium that dwells in a beautiful breast, 
 Than alarm for a moment the Peace that is there. 
 Or banish the Dove fi-om so hallow'd a nest. 
 
 ^^tfUCttOn. — Burns. 
 
 IS 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 liis perjur'd arts ! dissemblmg smooth ! 
 Are Honour, Virtue, Conscience, all exil'd ? 
 I Is there no pity, no relenting ruth. 
 
 Points to the Parents fondling o'er their Child, 
 ; Then paints the ruin'd Maid, and their disti-action wild ? 
 
 on. 
 
 SHALL Beauty, bhghted in an horn-. 
 Find joy withia her broken bower ? 
 No : gayer msects fluttermg by 
 Ne'er droop the whig on those that die, 
 And loveher tilings have Mercy shown 
 To every failing but their own, 
 And every woe a Tear may claim, 
 Except an erring Sister's Shame. 
 
 ^t\i'(!Lmxmt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THERE are few people who are more often in (I:c 
 wrong than those who cannot endure to be so. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4.51 
 
 I 
 
 eare. 
 
 CANNOT teU, what you and other men 
 Tliink of this Life ; but, for my single self, 
 I had as lief not be, as live to be 
 In aM-e of such a thing as I myself. 
 ^Clf--C0ntr0l. — Anon. 
 
 ONE of the most important, but one of the most 
 difficult things for a powerful mmd is, to be its own 
 master. Minerva should always be at hand, to restrain 
 Achilles fi-om blmdly following liis Impulses and Appetites, 
 even tliose which are moral and intellectual, as well as 
 those wliich are animal and sensual. A Pond may lie 
 quiet in a plain ; but a Lake wants Moimtains to compass 
 and hold it in. 
 
 ^t\i'<lLanUa\, — aoethe. 
 
 WHAT is the best Government ? That which teaches 
 us to govern ourselves. 
 
 §>z\l=€a\xixa\. — Massinger. 
 He that would govern others, first should be 
 The Master of himself. 
 
 ^t\i'€antxa\. — Anon. 
 
 HE is a Fool who cannot be angry : but he is a Wise 
 Man who wiU not. 
 
 ^t\i--<!LmXxa\, — Seneca. 
 
 I WILL have a care of being a Slave to myself, for it is 
 a perpetual, a shameful, and the heaviest of aU ser- 
 vitudes ; and this may be done by moderate Desires. 
 ^e\l'€a\xXVQl. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 THE Constancy of Sages is nothing but the art of 
 locking up then* Agitation in their hearts. 
 hzlt-Mm^tim, — Q-remlle. 
 
 NO Man was ever so much deceived by another as by 
 himself 
 
 Jjfrl^JBefcnce. — Joanna Baillie, 
 ^0 whom do Hons cast their gentle looks ? 
 . Not to the beast that would usurp then- den. 
 Whose hand is that the forest bear doth hck ? 
 Not liis 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 tlieir brood. 
 
4-52 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTR; 
 
 ^t\l'(S):KX\\mKiia\\. — Pythagoras. 
 
 LET not Sleep fall upou thy Eyes till thou hast thrice 
 reviewed the transactions of the past day. Wliere 
 have I turned aside from Kectitude ? What have I been 
 doing ? What have I left undone, which I ought to have 
 done ? Begin thus from the fu'st act, and proceed ; and, 
 in conclusion, at the 111 which thou hast done, be troubled, 
 and rejoice for the Grood. 
 
 ^£lJ-3EnterCjSt. — La Bochefoucauld. 
 
 OTJE. Vu'tues disappear when put in competition with 
 ovir Interests, as Rivers lose themselves in the Ocean. 
 
 ^tW^'iimii. — Sterne. 
 
 THERE are some tampers — 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 Connexion at all with the species. 
 
 ^t\M^mii. — Toung. 
 
 The Selfish Heart deserves the pain it feels. 
 More gen'rous Sorrow, while it sinks, exalts ; 
 And conscious Virtue mitigates the pang. 
 
 ^zW^'^m^i. — Colton. 
 
 THERE are too many who reverse both the Principles 
 and the practice of the Apostle; they become all 
 tilings to all Men, not to serve others, but themselves; 
 and they try all things, only to hold fast that which is bad. 
 
 ^tiii^nt^^. — Joanna Baillie, 
 
 He who will not give 
 Some portion of his Ease, his Blood, his Wealth, 
 For others' Grood, is a poor frozen churl. 
 
 ^t\i'%m\!i\z'Si^Z. — Colton. 
 
 HE that knows lumself, knows others ; and he that is 
 ignorant of himself, could not write a very profound 
 lectui'e on other men's heads. 
 
 ^0lf'-Sln0&JletfSC. — Anon. 
 
 11HE first step to Self-knowledge is Self-distrust. Nor 
 . can we attain to any kind of Knowledge, except by a 
 liKQ process. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 453 
 
 ^t\i'%\\a^\tti%Z, — Shakespeare. 
 
 I WILL cliide no breather in the world, but myself; 
 against whom I know most faults. 
 
 ^CIf--3L0&t. — Colton. 
 
 I 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 witliin us, 
 with respect to om* Pleasm-es. The sting of om- Pains is 
 diminished, by the assm-ance that they are common to 
 all ; but from feelings equally egotistical, it iinfortunately 
 happens that the zest and rehsh of our Pleasm-es is 
 heightened by the conti-ary 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 extracts 
 the thorns from a Crown. 
 
 ^zlU%aht. — Colton. 
 
 SELF-LOVE, in a well regulated breast, is as the. 
 Steward of the household, superintending the Ex- 
 penditure, and seeing that Benevolence herself shoidd be 
 prudential, in order to be permanent, by providing that 
 the reservoir which feeds should also be fed. 
 
 ^Zlf'%a^t. — Shakespeare. 
 
 She cannot love, 
 Nor take no shape nor project of AfFectioDj 
 She is so self-endear' d. 
 
 ^elf'J^xniSt, — Shakespeare. 
 
 THEEE'S not one Wise Man among twenty wiU praise 
 himself. 
 
 ^elHMtSZ. — Colton. 
 
 SELF-PRIDE is the common friend of our Humanity, 
 and, hke the bell of our Church, is resorted to on all 
 occasions; it mmisters alike to om- Festivals, or our Fasts; 
 our Merrunent, or om' Mom-ning ; our Weal, or our Woe. 
 
 §)tlf=^mts^mS' — Anon. 
 
 IT is a strange way of showing our humble reverence 
 and Love for the Creator, to be perpetually condemn- 
 ing and reviling everything that He has created. Were 
 
4-54 ILL VSTRA TIONS OF TR UTS ; 
 
 jow to tell a Poet that his poems are detestable, would 
 he thank you for the compliment ? The Evil on which 
 it behoves us to fix om- eyes, is that within ourselves, of 
 our own begetting ; the Good without. The half rehgious 
 are apt just to reverse this. 
 
 ^t\t=^\xmmi\l^, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 AMAJT who shows himself too well satisfied with 
 himself, is seldom pleased with others, and they, in 
 return, are httle disposed to like liim. 
 
 ^0lf--C0rment. — .CoUon. 
 
 THEEE are many moral Actseons, who are as miserably 
 devom-ed by objects of their own choosing, as was the 
 fabulous one, by his own Hounds. 
 
 ^zlhrniaxi^i^. — CoUon. 
 
 WEEE we to say that we admired the tricks and gam- 
 bols of a Monkey, but think nothing of that Power 
 that created those hmbs and muscles by which these are 
 performed— even a Coxcomb would stare at such an 
 asseveration ; and yet he is in the daily commission of a 
 much grosser contradiction, since he neglects his Maker, 
 but worships himself. 
 
 JJOT^ailttg. — Moore. 
 
 OH ! 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 fu-st to be touched by the thorns. 
 
 ^tni&iXiitQ. — Colton. 
 
 SENSIBILITY would be a good portress, if she liad 
 but one hand ; with her right she opens the door to 
 Pleasure, but with her left to Pain. 
 
 ^tlUMlii^, — Rogers. 
 
 THE soul of Music slmnbers ia the shell, 
 Till waked and kindled by the Master's spell ; 
 And feeling hearts— touch them but lightly— pour 
 A thousand melodies unheard before ! 
 
 ^miUKlii^, — Seneca. 
 
 IF Sensuahty were Happiness, beasts were happier than 
 men ; but human EeHcity is lodged in the Soul, not in 
 the Flesh. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 455 
 
 ^miWKlii^. — Shakespeare. 
 What is a Man, 
 If his chief good, and market of his time, 
 Be but to sleep, and feed ? a beast, no moi'e. 
 Sure, He, that made us with such large discourse, 
 Looking before, and after, gave us not 
 That capabihty and godlike Keason 
 To rust in us \mused. 
 
 ^jn^ttalttg. — Shahespeare. 
 Ingratefui Man, with liquorish draughts, 
 And morsels unctuous, greases his pure Mind, 
 That from it all consideration slips. 
 
 ^fn^ualtt^. — Flato. 
 
 THOSE wretches who never have experienced the sweets 
 of Wisdom and Vu'tue, but spend all their time in 
 revels and Debauches, sink downwards day after day, and 
 make then* whole life one continued series of errors. They 
 never have the courage to hft the eye upwards towards 
 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 them- 
 selves up in Luxury and Excess. 
 
 ^nrbant^. — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou hast a loitering Servant, send him of thy Errand 
 just before his Dinner. 
 
 ^tX^mii. — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou employest plain Men, and canst find such as are 
 commonly honest, they will work faithfully, and report 
 fauiy. Cunning Men will, for their own Credit, adventure 
 without Command ; and from thy busiaess derive Credit 
 to themselves. 
 
 ^Cr&ailt^. — Fuller. 
 
 BE not too famihar with thy Servants ; at first it may 
 beget Love, but in the end 'twiU. breed Contempt. 
 
 ^tX^mxti. — Fuller. 
 
 COMMAND thy Servant advisably with a few plain 
 Words, fully, freely, and positively, with a grave 
 I Countenance, and settled Carriage : These wiH procure 
 I Obedience, gain Respect, and maintain Authority. 
 
456 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^Crbant^. — Fuller. 
 
 5rTlIS better that tliou be rather something sparing, 
 X than very hberal, to even a good Servant ; for as he 
 gi'ows full, he inchnes either to be idle or to leave thee : 
 and if he should at any time murmur, thou mayst govern 
 him by a seasonable Reward. 
 
 J)«r6ant)S. — Shenstone. 
 
 THE trouble occasioned by vrant 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. 
 
 Kl)t ^tj:BS> — CoUon. 
 
 NO improvement that takes place in either of the Sexes 
 can possibly be confined to itself; each is an imiversal 
 Mirror to each; and the respective Refinement of the 
 one, v^ill alv^ays be in reciprocal proportion to the polish 
 of the other. 
 
 ^liKkt^^tKVt. — Anon. 
 
 EVERY Age has its own peculiar forms of moral and 
 intellectual Life; and Groethe has fully proved that 
 an abundant store of materials for the creative jjowers 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 re- 
 ferring, is that which he liimself has so happily expressed, 
 wlien, in speaking of some comparisons that had been 
 instituted between himself and Shakespeare, he said, 
 " Shakespeare always hits the right nail on the Head at 
 once ; but I have to stop and think which is the right 
 naU, before I hit." 
 
 ^\fKht&$CKVZ. — Anon. 
 
 OF the wonderful excellence of his Plays, we have no 
 reason for believing that Shakespeare 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 coidd be 
 saved by an interposing Genius, , to be the endowment of 
 a new World," it would be the voh^me that contains 
 them. Yet Shakespeare liimself did not take the trouble 
 of pubhshing 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 4-57 
 
 ^IjaiiCS'pcarc. — JDryden. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE was the man who, of all modem and 
 jDerhaps ancient Poets, had the largest and most 
 comprehensive Soul. All the images of Nature were still 
 present to Mm, 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 
 natm-aUy learned ; he needed not the spectacles of books 
 to read Natm-e ; he looked mwards, and found her there. 
 ^l^aScs"j3tarE. — Anon. 
 
 NO poet comes near Shakespeare in the number of 
 bosom luies, — of lines that we may cherish in our 
 bosoms, and that seem almost as if they had grown 
 there,— of hues that, like Bosom Friends, are ever at 
 hand to comfort, counsel, and gladden us imder all the 
 vicissitudes of Life,— of lines that, accordmg to paeon's 
 expression, " come home to our business and Bosoms." 
 
 ^]^aItCS"j|3£arr. — Anon. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S genius could adapt itself with such 
 nicety to all the varieties of ever-varying Man, that in 
 his "Titus Andi'onicus" 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 " Juhus Ceesar" 
 could not have come from the close-buttoned generation 
 in " Othello." Though human Passions are the same in 
 all ages, there are modifications of them dependent on the 
 circumstances of time and jilace, wliich Shakespeare 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 
 morahze from King Henry or Hamlet', although their 
 Morahty, hke all morahty, comes to pretty nearly the 
 same conclusion. 
 
 ^l^alte^jjcare, — Anon. 
 
 NO Heart would have been strong enough to hold the 
 woe of Lear and Othello, except that which had the 
 
458 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBTITR; 
 
 unquenchable elasticity of EalstaiF and the " Midsummer 
 Night's Dream." He too is an example that the percep- 
 tion of the ridiculous does not necessarily imply bitterness 
 and scorn. Along with his intense Humoiu', and his 
 equally intense piercing insight into the darkest, most 
 fearful depths of Human Nature, there is still a spirit of 
 universal Kindness, as well as universal Justice, pervading 
 his works : and Ben Jonson has left us a precious memo- 
 rial of him, where he calls him " My gentle Shakespeare." 
 This one epithet sheds a beautiful hght 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. 
 
 ^"^^ti^tSXt. — Anon. 
 
 THE whole race of the giants would never pile an Ossa 
 on this Olympus ; their missiles would roll back on 
 their l^eads fi.'om the feet of the Grods that dwell there. 
 Even Goethe and Schiller, when they meddled with 
 Shakespeare, 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 Shakespeare's genius past away from the earth, 
 did any one akin to liim reign in his stead. Indeed, 
 according to that law of alternation, which is so conspi- 
 cuous in the whole history of Literature, it mostly happens 
 that a period of extraordinary Fertility is followed by a 
 period of Dearth. After the seven plenteous years come 
 seven barren years, which devour the produce of the plen- 
 teous ones, yet continue as barren and ill-favoured as ever. 
 
 Portrait of l^tmjSelf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THOUG-H from an humble stock, undoubtedly 
 Was fashion' d to much Honour. Erom his cradle, 
 He was a Scholar, and a ripe, and good one ; 
 Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : 
 Lofty, and sour, to them that loved him not ; 
 But to those men that sought him, sweet as Summer. 
 
 ^I)ant0, — Flautus. 
 
 I CONSIDER that man to be undone who is insensible 
 to Shame. 
 
 W^Z ^"i^Xt^, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 SHE speaks Poniards, and every word stabs : if her 
 breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 459 
 
 no living near her, she would infect to the North Star. 
 She would have made Hercules hare turned spit ; yea, 
 and have cleft his Club, to make the Fire too. 
 
 K\)t ^l^rctD. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THE 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 
 Seemelii theh conference ; their conceits have wings, 
 Fleeter than Arrows, Bullets, Wind, Thought, swifter 
 things. 
 
 ^tCltn^^^. — Fuhlius Syrus. 
 
 THE sick man acts a foolish part, who makes his Phy- 
 sician his Hen-. 
 
 ^\t%\Xt^i. — Burton. 
 
 SICKNESS, the mother of Modesty, puts us in mmd of 
 our Mortality, and while we drive on heedlessly in the 
 full career of worldly pomp and JoUity, kindly pulls us by 
 the ear and brings us to a proper sense of oui' Duty. 
 
 ^lleitrt. — Slialcespeare. 
 
 The Silence often of pure Innocence 
 Persuades, when speaking fails. 
 
 ^tl0nC0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 SILENCE is the safest course for any man to adopt 
 who distrusts liimself. 
 
 ^tlclTCB. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O, MY Antonio, I do know of these, 
 That therefore only are reputed wise. 
 For saying nothing. 
 
 ^tlenCC. — Colton. 
 
 A MAN'S Profundity may keep liim from opening on a 
 first interview, and his Caution on a second ; but I 
 should suspect his Emptiness, if he carried on his Reserve 
 to a tliu'd. 
 
 ^tleilCC. — Burke. 
 
 IF the pi'udence of Reserve and Decorum dictates Silence | 
 in some circumstances, in others prudence of a higher i 
 order may justify us in speaking om- Thoughts. 1 
 
46o ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^ttettCf . — BouTiours. 
 
 SILENCE is a Virtue in those who are deficient in 
 understanding, 
 
 ^Xitntt. — 8. T. Coleridge. 
 
 Silence does not always mark Wisdom, 
 
 ^tmpllCttj), — ShaTcespewre. 
 Whose Nature is so far from dorag Iianns, 
 That he suspects none. 
 
 ^imjpItCttg. — Addison, 
 
 WHEN a man is made up wholly of the Doye, without 
 the least gram of the Serpent in Ms composition, he 
 becomes ridiculous in many chcumstances of Life, and very 
 often discredits his best actions. 
 
 ^ttttjllicttg. — Steele. 
 
 Simplicity, of all things, is the hardest to be copie L 
 
 ^unjpltcttg. — Shakes^peare. 
 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. 
 
 ^ixx. — Barrow. 
 
 SIN is never at a stay ; if we do not retreat from it, wc 
 shall advance in it ; and the further on we go, the 
 more we have to come back, 
 
 ^tU. — Baxter. 
 
 USE Sin as it vrill use you ; spare it not, for it wiU not 
 spare you ; it is yom- Murderer, and the Mm-derer of 
 the World; use it, therefore, as a Murderer should be 
 used, KiU it before it kUls you ; and though it kUL your 
 bodies, it shall not be able to kill your souls ; and though 
 it bring you to the grave, as it did yovir Head, it shall not 
 be able to keep you there. If the thoughts of Deatli, and 
 the Gx'ave, 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 had brought you a knife, and tempted you to cut 
 your thx'oat with it : so do when he offereth you the bait 
 of Sin, You love not Death ; love not the cause of 
 Death, 
 
OB, THINGS NE W AND OLD. 46 1 
 
 W 
 
 S 
 
 ^in. — Seneca. 
 HAT is more miserable than to see an old man onlj^ 
 just entering on the practice of Virtue ? 
 ^tU. — South. 
 UN is the fruitful Parent of distempers, and ill lives 
 I occasion good Physicians. 
 
 ^in. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Sin wlU pluck on Sin. 
 ^ttt. — Tillotson. 
 
 SHAME is a great restraint tipon sinners at first ; but 
 that soon falls off: and when men have once lost then- 
 Innocence, then- Modesty is not hke to be long troublesome 
 to them. For Impudence comes on with Vice, and grows 
 up with it. Lesser vices do not banish aU Shame and 
 Modesty ; but great and abommable Crimes harden men's 
 foreheads, and make them shameless. When men have 
 the Heart to do a very bad thmg, they seldom want the 
 face to bear it out. 
 
 ^mcn'tt}). — Tillotson. 
 
 SINCEEITY is like travelling in a plain beaten road, 
 which commonly brings a man sooner to his J ourney's 
 end than by-ways, in which men often lose themselves, 
 ^mmrttj). — Shakespeare. 
 
 HIS Words are bonds, his Oaths are oracles ; 
 His Love smcere, his Thoughts immaculate ; 
 His Tears, pure messer. ^ers sent from his Heart ; 
 His Heart as far from fraud as Heaven from Earth. 
 JjUtCCrity. — Tillotson. 
 
 IE the show of any tiling be good for any thing, I am 
 sure Sincerity is better ; for why does any man dis- 
 semble, or seem to be that wliieh he is not, but because 
 he thinks it good to have such a Quahty as he pretends 
 to. 
 
 ^mccritt). — Rochefoucauld. 
 Weak persons cannot be sincere. 
 
 ^UTCCrttiJ, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 SINCERITY is an opening of the Heart. We find it 
 in very few people ; and that which we generally see 
 is nothing but a subtle Dissimtdation to attract the Con- 
 fidence of others. 
 
4-62 ILL USTBA TI0N8 OF TR UTH ; 
 
 ^tnsularttu. — Colton. 
 
 LET those who would affect Singularity with success, 
 first determine to be very virtuous, and they will be 
 sure to be very singular. 
 
 ^Ian^r£r. — Spenser. 
 
 AND therein were 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 Deares, that groynd continually, 
 And some of Tygres, that did seem to gren, 
 And suar at all that ever passed by : 
 But most of them were tongues of MortaU Men, 
 Which spake reprochfully, not caring where nor when. 
 
 ^lantftr. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 Slander j 
 
 AYhose edge is sharper than the Sword ; whose Tongue 
 
 Out- venoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath 
 
 Eides on the posting winds, and doth behe 
 
 AU corners of the World : Kmgs, Queens, and States, 
 
 Maids, Matrons, nay, the secrets of the Grave 
 
 This viperous Slander enters, 
 
 ^Ian^f^r. — Byron. 
 
 THE circle smil'd, 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 wotdd not deem such Women could be found ; 
 Some ne'er behev'd one half of what they heard : 
 
 Some look'd perplex' d, and others I'ook'd profound ; 
 And several pitied with sincere regret 
 Poor Lord Augustus Eitz-Plantagenet. 
 
 ^laitifer. — Spenser. 
 
 HEE Face was ugly, and her Mouth distort 
 Foming with poyson romid about her gils, 
 In which her cursed Tongue full sharpe and short 
 Appear'd hke Asp'is Sting, that closely kils 
 Or cruelly does wound whomso she wUs. 
 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 wliich others had disprad. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 463 
 
 ^UviiStt, — Hare. 
 
 WHEN will talkers refrain from Evil-speakiiig ? Wheii 
 listeners refrain fi-om Evil-hearing. 
 
 SKILL' D by a toucli to deepen Scandal's tints, 
 With all the kind mendacity of hints, 
 While mingHng Truth with Falsehood, sneers with smiles, 
 A thread of Candour with a web of wiles ; 
 A plain blimt show of briefly-spoken seeming. 
 To hide her bloodless Heart's soul-harden'd scheming ; 
 A hp of hes, a face formed 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. 
 
 ^laIt^f0r. — Anon. 
 SiANDEE meets no regard from noble minds ; 
 Only the base beheve, what the base only utter, 
 
 ^lanifW. — Shakespeare. 
 The jewel, best enamelled. 
 Will lose his Beauty ; and though Gold 'bides still, 
 That others touch, yet often touching will 
 Weai- Gold ; and so no man that hath a name, 
 But Falsehood and Corruption doth it shame. 
 
 ^lantfor. — Spenser. 
 
 AFOUL and loathy Creature sure in sight. 
 And ill conditions to be loath' d no lesse. 
 For she was stuft with Eancour and Despight 
 Up to the Throat, that oft with bitternesse 
 It forth would breake and gush in great excesse, 
 Pom-ing out streames of Poyson and of GaU 
 'Gainst all that Truth or Vertue doe professe. 
 Whom she with leasings lewdly did miscall, 
 And wickedly backbite : her name men Sclamider call. 
 
 ^lantfcr. — %?-o». 
 
 That abominable Tittle-Tattle, 
 The cud eschewed by human cattle. 
 
 ^lanlfer. — Cowper. 
 
 The Man that dares traduce because he can 
 With safety to liimself, is not a Man. 
 
4-64 ILL USIBA TIONS OF TB UTH ; 
 
 ^XKXXtStX. — Spenser. 
 
 SLAUNDEEOUS reproches, and fowle Infamies, 
 Leasinges, backbjtinges, and vain-glorious crakes, 
 Bad counsels, prayses, and false Flatteries ; 
 All those against that fort did bend their batteries. 
 
 ^lanif^r. — Shakespeare. 
 
 We must not stint 
 Our necessary actions, in the fear 
 To cope malicious Censta-ers ; which ever, 
 As ravenous Fishes, do a vessel follow. 
 That is new trimm'd. 
 
 ^lanifcr. — Spenser. 
 
 NO wou.nd, 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 ; 
 'S& aU the skill which that immortal spright 
 Of Podalyrius did in it retaine. 
 
 Can remedy such Hurts ; such Hurts are HeUish Pain 
 
 ^lawlfgr. — Thomson. 
 
 The whisper' d talc, 
 That, like the fabling Nile, no fountain know f. 
 Pau'-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, 
 
 ^lantfcr. — Shakespeare. 
 
 NO might nor greatness in Mortahty 
 Can Censvire 'scape ; back- wounding Calmnuy 
 The whitest Vu-tue strikes : What King so strong. 
 Can tie the gaU up in the slanderous tongue ? 
 
 ^toj). — Steele. 
 
 IN thee. Oppressors soothe their angiy 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 Grlories men piu-sue, 
 When thou art wanted, are but empty noise. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 465 
 
 ^top. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 O GENTLE Sleep, 
 Nature's soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee. 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyehds 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 perfum'd chambers of the Great, 
 Under the canopies of costly State, 
 And lull'd with soimds of sweetest Melody ? 
 O thou dull Q-od, why ly'st thou with the vile 
 In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch 
 A watch-case, or a common larum-beU ? 
 Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast. 
 Seal up the Ship-boy's eyes, and rock Ms brains. 
 In cradle of the rude imperious Surge ; 
 And in the visitation of the winds. 
 Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
 Curhng their monstrous heads, and hanging them 
 With deaf ning clamours in the slipp'ry shrouds. 
 That, with the hurley. Death itself awakes ? 
 Canst thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repose 
 To the wet Sea-boy in an hour so rude ? 
 And, in the calmest and the stillest Night, 
 With aU apphances and means to boot, 
 Deny it to a King ? 
 
 — Sir T. Brown. 
 
 SLEEP is Death's younger brother, and so lite him, 
 that I never dare trust him without my Prayers. 
 
 ^ICCjj. — ShaJcespecvre. 
 
 'Tis her breathing that 
 Perfumes the chamber thus : The flame o' the taper 
 Bows toward her ; and would under-peep her hds, 
 To see the enclosed Lights, now canopied 
 Under these Windows : White and azure, laced 
 With blue of Heaven's own tinct. 
 
 ^\tt^. — Young. 
 
 MAN'S rich Eestorative; his balmy batb, 
 That supples, lubricates, and keeps in play 
 Tfip vanon? movemenTS 0^ tins nice ma«niii?, 
 C n 
 
466 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Which asts such frequent periods of repair. 
 When tir'd 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. 
 
 ^top, — Shakespeare. 
 5 nniS not the Balm, the Sceptre and the Ball, 
 
 JL The Sword, the Mace, the Crown imperial, 
 The inter-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 majestical, 
 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 hon-id Night, the child of Hell : 
 But, like a lacquey, from the risq.vto set, 
 Sweats in the eye of Phoebus ; aiid 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. 
 
 ^tZ^, — SJiaJcespeare. 
 
 SLEEP, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of Care, 
 The Death of each day's Life, sore Labour's bath. 
 Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, 
 Chief nourisher in Life's feast! 
 
 ^\tZ^, — Mrs. Tighe. 
 
 OH ! thou best comforter of that sad Heart 
 Wliom Eortune's spite assails ; come, gentle Sleep, 
 The weary mourner soothe ! Eor weU the art 
 ihou knowest in soft forgetfalness to steep 
 The Eyes which Sorrow taught to watch and weep ; 
 Let bhssful visions now her sphits cheer, 
 Or lull her cares to Peace in Slumbers deep, 
 Till, from fatigue refi-esh'd and anxious Eear, 
 Hope, like the Morning- star, once more shall re-appear. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 467 
 
 ^tojp. — Byron. 
 
 AND 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. 
 Pair as the crowning rose of the whole wreath, 
 Soft aa the callow Cygnet in its nest. 
 
 §^tti^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I WISH mine Eyes 
 Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts : I find, 
 
 They are incHned to do so 
 
 Do not omit the heavy offer of it : 
 
 It seldom visits Sorrow ; when it doth, 
 
 It is a Comforter. 
 
 ^ICCp. — Byron. 
 
 THE crowd are gone, the Revellers at rest ; 
 The courteous host, and aU-approving guest, 
 Again to that accustomed couch must creep. 
 Where Joy subsides, and Sorrow sighs to sleep. 
 And man o'erlaboured with his being's strife. 
 Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of Life : 
 There Me Love's feverish hope, and Cunning's guile ; 
 Hate's working brain, and lull'd Ambition's wile. 
 O'er each vain eye obhvion's pinions wave. 
 And quench'd existence crouches in a grave. 
 Wliat better name may Slumber's bed become ? 
 Night's Sepulchre, the imiversal Home, 
 Wliere Weakness, Strength, Yice, Virtue, sunk supine, 
 Alike in naked helplessness recline : 
 G-lad for awhile to heave unconscious breath. 
 Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of death. 
 And shim, though day but dawn on ills increas'd. 
 That Sleep, the lovehest, since it dreams the least. 
 ^Ic^jj, — Beatmont. 
 
 HOW happy is that bakn tp wretches, Sleep ! 
 No cares perplex them for their future stato. 
 And fear of Death thus dies in senseless Sleep ; 
 Unruly Love is this way lull'd to rest ; 
 And injur' d Honour, when redress is lost, 
 Is no way salv'd but tliis. 
 
 ^\tt^. — ShaJcespea^e. 
 DowxT Sleep, Death's counterfeit. 
 
4.6 8 ILL U8TBA TIONS OF TB TITS; 
 
 ^Itt^, — Shalcespeare. 
 
 EISTJOY the honey-heaTy dew of Slumber : 
 Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies, 
 Which busy Care draws in the brains of men ; 
 Tkerefore thou sleep' st so sound. 
 
 ^atittO. — Thomson. 
 
 HAIL, 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. 
 
 ^flCtCtg. — St/ron. 
 
 SOCIETY itself, which should create 
 Kindness, destroys what httle we had got : 
 To feel for none is the true social art 
 Of the world's stoics— men without a Heart. 
 
 §>atitt^. — Pope. 
 
 HEAVEN forming each on other to depend, 
 A Master, or a Servant, or a Eriend, 
 Bids each on other for assistance call. 
 Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all. 
 Wants, Erailties, Passions, closer stiU ally 
 The common interest, or endear the tie. 
 To these we owe true Eriendship, Love sincere, 
 Each home-felt joy that Life inherits here. 
 
 §>atittyi. — Milton. 
 Amok& unequals what Society 
 Can sort, what Harmony or true delight. 
 
 ^actetg. — Fope. 
 
 MAN, like the generous Vine, supported hves : 
 The strength he gains is from th' embrace he gives. 
 On their own axis as the planets run. 
 Yet make at once their cu'cle round the Sun ; 
 So two consistent motions act the soul ; 
 And one regards itself, and one the whole. 
 Thus God and Natmre link'd the general frame, 
 And bade Self-love and Social be the same. 
 
 ^nctetg. — Byron. 
 Society is now one polish'd Horde, 
 Eoi-m'd of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bor'd. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 469 
 
 ^OClCtg. — Cowper. 
 
 MAN in Society is like a Flow'r, 
 Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there alone 
 His faculties expanded in full bloom 
 Sliine out, there only reach their proper use. 
 
 ^atizXv, — 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 ! 
 
 ^OCtetg. — Charron. 
 
 GREAT towns are but a larger sort of prison to the 
 Soul, like cages to birds, or pounds to beasts. 
 
 ^OftncS^. — Shakesjpeare. 
 
 He hath a person, and a smooth dispose, 
 
 To be suspected ; fram'd to make Women false. 
 
 J)0lttuifB. — Cowley. 
 
 THE 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 leism-e to be in 
 Company; the one has but part of the affairs of one 
 nation, the other all the' works of God and Nature imder 
 his consideration. 
 
 ^0lttttirc. — Byron. 
 To view alone 
 The fairest scenes of land and deep, 
 With none to Hsten and reply 
 To thoughts with which my heart beat high, 
 Were irksome. 
 
 ^altttltfe, — Beattie. 
 
 AND oft the craggy Chff he loved to climb. 
 When all in mist the World below was lost. 
 Wliat dreadful Pleasm-e ! 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 ! 
 
470 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH ; 
 
 ^aliiVitit, — Fope. 
 
 BEAR me, some God ! oh, qiiickly bear me hence 
 To wholesome Solitude : the imrse of Sense ; 
 Where Contemplation priones her ruffled wings, 
 And the free soul looks down to pity Kings ! 
 
 ^OlltuUe. — Byron. 
 
 TO sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and feU, 
 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 chmb 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 SoHtude ; '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, \o feel, and to possess. 
 And roam along, the World's tir'd 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, woiild seem to smile the less 
 Of all that flatter' d, foUow'd, sought, and sued ; 
 This is to be alone ; this, this is Sohtude ! 
 
 ^rilttutfC. — Byron. 
 
 IP Solitude succeed to Grief, 
 Release from pain is sHght 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 Woe alone to bear, 
 The Heart once left thus desolate. 
 Must fly at last for ease — to hate. 
 
 ^nlttuiJe. — 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 om' Innocence ; this wounds our Peace. 
 From nature's birth, hence. Wisdom has been smit 
 With sweet Recess, and languish' d for the Shade. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND. OLD. 4-71 
 
 ^OlttttlJe. — Beloraine. 
 
 SOLITUDE is one of the highest enjoyments of which 
 our Nature is susceptible. SoHtude is also, when too 
 long continued, capable of being made the most severe, 
 indescribable, unendiirable source of Anguish. 
 
 ^0lttllif£. — Rochester. 
 
 DEAR sohtary groves, where Peace does dwell ! 
 Sweet harbours of pm-e Love and Innocence ! 
 How willingly could I for ever stay 
 Beneath the shade of your embracing greens, 
 List'ning to the Hai-mony of warbhng bhds, 
 Tun'd with the gentle mm-mur of the streams ; 
 L^pon whose bank, in various livery, 
 Tlie fragrant offspring of the early year. 
 Their heads, hke graceful swans, bent proudly down, 
 See their own beauties in the crystal Flood. 
 
 ^DlltulfC. — Milton. 
 
 THEEE 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 floweiy work doth sing, 
 And the Waters murmuring, 
 With such consort as they keep, 
 Entice the dewy -feather' d Sleep. 
 
 ^0lttttUc. — Byron. 
 
 THERE 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 
 Wliat I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. 
 
 ^0litttife. — Byron. 
 
 I LIVE not in myself, but I become 
 Portion of that around me ; and to me, 
 High Motmtains are a feehng, but the hum 
 Of human cities Torture. 
 
472 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTR ; 
 
 ^nlttutr^. — Byron. 
 
 ARE 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 pm-e Passion ? should I not contemn 
 All objects, if compared with these? and stem 
 A tide of sixlferings, rather than forego 
 Such feehngs for the hard and worldly phlegm 
 Of those whose eyes are only tum'd below. 
 Gazing upon the ground, with thoughts which dare 
 glow? 
 
 §)a\itviiSt, — Spenser. 
 
 THE joyous Birdes, shrouded in chearefuU shade, 
 Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet; 
 Th' angehcaU soft trembhng voyces made 
 To th' instruments divine Eespondence 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. 
 
 ^alitxi^t. — Younff. 
 
 0 SACRED Sohtude! divine Retreat! 
 Choice of the prudent ! envy of the great ! 
 By thy pure stream, or in thy waving shade, 
 We court fan- Wisdom, that celestial maid : 
 The genuine offsprmg of her lov'd embrace, 
 (Strangers on earth !) are Innocence and Peace. 
 
 ^0lttutrc. — Cowper. 
 How sweet, how passing sweet is Solitude ! 
 But grant me still a friend in my retreat. 
 Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet. 
 
 ^alttulf£. — Byron. 
 
 PERHAPS 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 hfeless Splendour of the whole. 
 
 ^0lttulfg. — Milton. 
 Solitude is sometimes best society, 
 And short Retirement urges sweet return. 
 
OB, THINGS NJEW AND OLD. 473 
 
 ^Olttulfe. — Toung. 
 O ! IXDST to Virtue ! lost to manly Thought, 
 Lost to the noble sallies of the Soul ! 
 . Who think it SoHtude to be alone. 
 
 ^Dlttulfe. — Camplell, 
 
 ENTHUSIAST of the Woods ! when years apace 
 Had bound thy lovely waist with woman's zone, 
 The sunrise Path at mom I see thee trace. 
 To hills with high Magnoha overgrown, 
 And joy to breathe the Groves, romantic and alone. 
 
 ^OlttuUc. — Rogers, 
 
 No, 'tis not here that SoUtude is known. 
 Through the wide World he only is alone 
 Wlio hves not for another. 
 
 ^Olttuif0. — Byron. 
 
 OH ! 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 
 I feel myself exalted. — Can ye not 
 Accord me such a being ? Do I err 
 In deeming such inhabit many a spot ? 
 Though with them to converse can rarely be om- lot. 
 
 ^OrrOilD. — • Skakespeare. 
 
 The Heart hath treble wrong, 
 Wlien it is barr'd the aidance of the Tongue. 
 An oven that is stopp'd, or River staid. 
 Burnetii more hotly, swelleth with more rage : 
 So of concealed Sorrow may be said. 
 
 ^OrrflfitJ. — Johnson. 
 
 SORROW is a kind of rust of the Soul, which every 
 new idea contributes in its passage to scorn' awaj\ 
 It is the putrefaction of stagnant Life, and is remedied by 
 Exercise and Motion. 
 
 ^Orr0&3. — Shakespeare. 
 Shoet time seems long, in Sorrow's sharp sustaining, 
 Though Woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps. 
 And they who watch, see Time how slow it creeps. 
 
47+ ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBTJTR; 
 
 ^OrrfltD. — Shakespeare, 
 Give Sorrow words : tlie Grief, that does not speak, 
 Whispers the o'erfraught Heart, and bids it break. 
 
 ^axxsiia. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0, IF thou teach me to beHeve this Sorrow, 
 Teach thou this Sorrow how to make me die j 
 And let Behef and Life encoimter so, 
 As doth the fury of two desperate Men, 
 Wliich, in the very meeting, MI and die. 
 
 ^atvaiO. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BUT he, his own affections' Ooimsellor, 
 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. 
 
 ^OrrOtD. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I NEVEE saw a vessel of like Sorrow, 
 So fiU'd, and so becoming. 
 
 ^OrroiD. — Shakespeare. 
 
 AND now and then an ample Tear triU'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 liave seen 
 Sunshine and raia at once : — her Smiles and Tears 
 Were Hke 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 Earity most belov'd, 
 If aU could so become it. 
 
 ^OrrOtD, — Shakespeare. 
 
 We are fellows still, 
 Serving ahke in Sorrow. Leak'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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 475 
 
 ^0rr0fcO. — Shakespeare. 
 SOEEOW, like a heavy-hanging Bell, 
 Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes : 
 Then little strength rings out the doleful knell. 
 
 ^Orr0tD. — Shakespeare. 
 
 ALL things, that we ordained Festival, 
 Turn from their office to black Funeral : 
 Our instruments to melancholy beUs ; 
 Our Wedding cheer to a sad burial feast ; 
 Our solemn Hymns to sullen Dirges change ) 
 Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, 
 And aU things change them to the contrary. 
 
 ^0rrO&). — Shakespeare. 
 
 LO ! here the hopeless merchant of this loss, 
 With head declin'd, and Voice damm'd up with woe, 
 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 
 Outruns the eye, that doth behold Ws haste 9 
 Yet in the eddy boundeth in his Pride 
 Back to the strait, that forced liim on so fast. 
 In rage sent out, recall' d in rage being past : 
 Even so his sighs, Ms Sorrows, make a saw, 
 To push Grief on, and back the same Grief draw. 
 
 ^OtratD. — Shakespeare. 
 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 hght a storm) 
 Buried tlais Sigh in wrinkle of a Smile : 
 But Sorrow, that is couch' d in seeming Gladnesp, 
 Is hke that Mirth Fate turns to sudden Sadness. 
 
 ^OrrflbJ. — Thomson. 
 
 So many great 
 Illustrious spirits have convers'd with Woe, 
 Have in her school been taught, as are enough 
 To consecrate Distress, and make Ambition 
 Ev'n wish the frown beyond the smile of Fortune. 
 
476 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^OrrOiD. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Look, who comes here ! a Grave vmto a Soul ; 
 Holding the eternal Spirit against her will, 
 In the Tile prison of afSicted breath. 
 
 Wc^t ^0Ul. — SThokesipeare. 
 
 POOR Sovd, 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, Soid, hve 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 than. 
 
 Wl^t ^aul. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 EITHER we have an immortal Soul, or we have not. 
 If we have not, we are Beasts ; the fii-st and wisest 
 of Beasts, it may be ; but still true Beasts. We shall 
 only differ in degree, and not m kind ; just as the elephant 
 differs from the slug. But by the concession of all the 
 materiahsts of aU 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. 
 
 ^a\x\. — Cicero. 
 
 IF I am mistaken in my opinion that the Human Sod 
 is immortal, I willingly err ; nor would I have tliis 
 pleasant Error extorted from me : and if, as some minute 
 Philosophers suppose. Death should deprive me of my 
 beiiig, I need not fear the raillery of those pretended 
 Pliilosophers when they are no more. 
 
 W)t ^ml, — Jean Paul. 
 
 THERE are Souls which fall from Heaven hke flowers ; 
 but ere the pure and fi-esh buds can open, they are 
 trodden in the dust of the Earth, and lie soiled and 
 crushed under the foul tread of some brutal Hoof. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. +77 
 
 t!S\^t ^OUl. — Addison. 
 
 THE Soul, seciire in lier existence, smiles 
 At the drawn dagger, and defies its point : 
 The Stars shall fade away, the Sun himself 
 Grrow dim with age ; and Nature sink in years : 
 But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
 Unh\irt amidst the War of Elements, 
 The Wreck of matter, and the crash of Worlds. 
 
 %\)e ^0ttl. — Armstrong. 
 
 THEEE is, they say, (and I beheve there is,) 
 A Spark within us of th' Immortal Eire, 
 That animates and moulds the grosser frame ; 
 And when the Body sinks, escapes to Heaven, 
 Its native seat, and mixes with the Q-ods. 
 
 ^0uI. — Montgomery. 
 
 THE Soul, of origin divine, 
 Q-od'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. 
 
 ^OUl. — 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. 
 
 ^0UI. — Sterne. 
 
 REST unto our Souls ! — tis aU we want — the end of all 
 our wishes and pursuits : give us a prospect of this, 
 we take the wings of the Morning and ily to the utter- 
 most parts of the Earth to have it in possession: till 
 after many miserable experiments, we have been seeking 
 every where for it, but where there is a prospect of finding 
 it ; and that is within ourselves, in a meek and lowly dis- 
 position of heart. 
 
478 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Wt^t ^OUl. — HaTiel. 
 
 THE AfFections and tlie Will know nothing of a future ; 
 the Mind — the Judgment — calls it up and gives it 
 the force and 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. 
 
 W^t Jj0Ul. — Greville. 
 
 IHAEDLY know a sight that raises one's Indignation 
 more, than that of an enlarged Soul joined to a con- 
 tracted Fortime ; imless it be that so much more common 
 one, of a contracted Soul joined to an enlarged Fortune. 
 
 W^t ^0Ul. — 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 roU ; 
 Call'd into being scenes unknown before. 
 And, passing Nature's bounds, was something more. 
 
 ^jptrtt. — Byron. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL 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, — 
 Camation'd like a sleeping infant's cheek, 
 Eock'd by the beating of her mother's Hearty 
 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. 
 
 W^t ^^Ittn. — 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, 
 Make some take Physic, others scribble plays ; 
 Who cause the proud their visits to delay, " 
 And send the Godly in a pet to pray. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 479 
 
 tE^t ^plcat. — 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 look's vulgar, dowdyish and suburban, 
 A sixth's white Silk has got a yellow taint : 
 
 A seventh's thin Mushn 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. 
 
 51^0 Spring. — Thomson. 
 
 In these green days, 
 Reviving Sickness lifts her languid head ; 
 Life flows afresh ; and young-ey'd Health exalts 
 The whole creation round. Contentment walks 
 The simny glade, and feels an inward bliss 
 Spring o'er his mind, beyond the power of Kings 
 To purchase. 
 
 ^prmfl. — Thomson. 
 Wide flush the fields ; the softening Air is balm ; 
 Echo the mountains rovmd : the Forest smiles ; 
 And every Sense, and every Heart is J oy. 
 
 Opting. — Milton. 
 
 HAIL bounteous May, that dost inspire 
 Mirth, Youth, and warm Desire : 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy Blessing. 
 
 tS^e ^prtnfl. — Thomson. 
 
 FROM 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. 
 
 W^t ^tate^man. — Milton. 
 
 With grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd 
 A PUlar of State ; deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public Care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face shone 
 Majestic. 
 
48o ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBLTH; 
 
 W^t Hanir-'^torut. — Thomson. 
 
 ALONG the woods, along the moorish fens, 
 Sighs the sad Grenius of the coming Storm ; 
 And np among the loose disjointed clifFs 
 And fractur'd mountains wild, the brawHng brook 
 And cave, presageful, send a hollow moan, 
 Resoimding long in listening Fancy's ear. 
 
 W^t %,mii'^Xaxm. — Thomson. 
 
 A BODING silence reigns. 
 Dread through the dun expanse ; save the dull sound 
 That from the Mountain, previous to the Storm, 
 Eolls o'er the mutteiing 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 vsdng the dubious dusk. In rueful gaze 
 The Cattle stand, and on the scowHng heavens 
 Cast a deploring eye ; by Man forsook, 
 Who to the crowded Cottage hies him fast^ 
 Or seeks the shelter of the downward Cave. 
 
 W^it ^tUrtM''^t0rm. — Thomson. 
 
 TN vain for him the officious Wife prepares 
 The fire fair blazing, and the vestment warm ; 
 In vain Ms little children, peeping out 
 Into the mingling stomi, demand their Sire, 
 With tears of artless Innocence. A In s ! 
 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 Yitals creeping cold, 
 Lays him along the Snows, a stiffen' d corse, 
 Stretch' d out, and bleaching in the northern Blast. 
 
 ^tax^'tt\\in%, — Swift. 
 
 OTOEY-TELLINQ- is subject to two unavoidable De- 
 fects ; 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. 
 
 ^lUlZ, — Jlrom the Latin. 
 We hate the Hawk because he always lives in arms. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 481 
 
 ^trtfimg. — CoUon. 
 
 HE that strives for the masteryj must join a well' dis- 
 ciplined 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 weaker^ althoitgh 
 in moral, as in domestic Economy, matters are best con- 
 ducted where neither parties are unreasonable, and whei'^ 
 both are agreed. 
 
 ^tlllfu. — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 STUDY is like the Heaven's glorious stm, 
 That will not be deep search' d with saucy looks ; 
 Small have continual plodders ever won, ■ 
 Save base Authority from other's books. 
 
 ^tuifg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Continue your resolve 
 To suck the sweets of sweet Philosophy. 
 Only, while we do admire 
 This Virtue, and tliis 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 abjm'ed : 
 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, 
 FaU to them, as you find yom' stomach serves you : 
 No profit grows, where is no pleasure ta'en ; — 
 In brief, Study what you most affect. 
 
 ^tttifg. — ShaTcespeave. 
 
 UNIVEESAL plodding prisons up 
 The rumble spirits in the arteries ; 
 As motion, and long-during action, tires 
 The sinewy Vigour of the Traveller. 
 
 ^tttUy. — St. 'Ememond. 
 
 STUDY 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 reqtured towards a polite Conversation. Medi- 
 tation has still worse effects .in civil society ; wherefore let 
 me advise you to take care, that you lose not by it with 
 yom- Eriends what you think to gain with yourself. 
 
 I I 
 
482 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^tulfg. — Seneca. 
 
 IF you devote your time to Study, you will avoid aU the 
 ii'ksomeness of tliis Life, nor will you long for the 
 approach of Night, being tii-ed of the Day ; nor will you 
 be a burden to yourself, nor your Society insupportable 
 to others. 
 
 ^tgl0. — FeltJiam, 
 
 ASENTEJN'OE well couched, takes both the Sense and 
 the Understanding. 
 
 ^tgte. — Swift. 
 
 PEOPEE words in proper places make the true defini- 
 tion of a Style. 
 
 ^t^t, — From the Latin. 
 
 HIS Style shows the man. Whether in speaking or 
 writing, a gentleman is always known by his style. 
 
 ^Xitttii. — Higgons. 
 
 HAD I miscarried, I had been a Villain ; 
 Eor men judge actions always by events : 
 But when we manage by a just foresight. 
 Success is Prudence, and Possession Eight. 
 
 ^UCC£^S, — Thomson. 
 
 IT is Success that colours aU in hfe : 
 Success makes Fools admir'd, makes Villains honest : 
 All the proud Virtue of tliis vaunting world 
 Fawns on Success and Power, howe'er acquir'd. 
 
 ^UC«^^. — Colton. 
 
 HE 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 cm- 
 merits, so it silences those Enemies from whom alone we 
 can learn our defects. 
 
 ^WttZ^^, — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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 n^ver lack a Friend ; 
 And who in want a hollow Friend doth try, 
 Directly seasons him his Enemy. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 483 
 
 SlticQjC. — iMcretius. 
 
 0! DEAF to Nature, and to Heaven's command! 
 Against thyself to lift the murdering hand ! 
 0 damn'd Despau-! — to shun the Hving light. 
 And plunge thy guilty Soul in endless Night ! 
 
 5tltCtlf0. — Blair, 
 
 OTJE time is fix'd ; and all our days are nmnber'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 destin'd stand, 
 And wait th' appointed hour, till they're reheved. 
 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 
 WOl 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 haK so desperate as this. 
 
 SutClif^. — ShaJcespeare, 
 
 Against Self- Slaughter 
 There is a prohibition so divine, 
 That cravens my weak hand. 
 
 MtntKl StttCtlrc. — Chesterfield. 
 
 I LOOK upon indolence as a sort of Suicide ; for the 
 Man is efficiently destroyed, though the appetite of the 
 Brute may survive. 
 
 Summer. — Moore. 
 jrilWAS noon ; and eveiy Orange-bud 
 JL Hung langmd o'er the ciystal flood, 
 Faint as the lids of maiden eyes 
 Beneath a Lover's burning sighs ! 
 
 W^t 5tm. — Moore. 
 
 AND see the Sun himself ! on wings 
 Of Grlory 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 ! 
 
484- ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ^un, — Byron. 
 Thotj material Grod ! 
 And representative of the Unknown — 
 Who chose thee for his shadow ! Thou chief star I 
 Centre of many stars ! which mak'st 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 Sphit have a tint of thee. 
 Even as our outward aspects ; — thou dost rise, 
 And shine and set in Grlory. Fare thee well ! 
 I ne'er shall see thee more. As my fii'st glance 
 Of Love and Wonder was for thee, then take 
 My latest look. 
 
 K^t ^un. — Coioley. 
 
 THOU tide of Glory, which no rest doth know, 
 But ever ebb and ever flow ! 
 Thou golden shower of a true Jove ! 
 Wlio doth m thee descend, and Heaven to Earth make 
 love. 
 
 Wc^Z ^Un. — Southeif. 
 
 I MARVEL not, O Sun! that xmio thee 
 In adoration Man should bow the knee, 
 And poiu' the prayer of mingled Awe and Love ; 
 Eor like a Grod thou art, and on thy way 
 Of Glory sheddest with benignant ray. 
 
 Beauty, and Life, and Joyance from above. 
 
 ^Un. — Cowley. 
 
 ALL the World's bravery that dehghts our eyes, 
 Is but thy several Hveries ; 
 Thou the rich dye on them bestow' st, 
 Thy nimble Pencil paints tliis landscape as thou go'st. 
 
 ^XtJ)Kr^tttt0U. — CoUon. 
 
 THE less we know as to things that can be done, the 
 less sceptical are we as to things that cannot. Hence 
 it is that Sailors and Gamblers, though not over remark- 
 able for then' devotion, are even proverbial for their Super- 
 stition; the solution of this phenomenon is, that both 
 these descriptions of men have so much to do witli things 
 beyond aU possibihty of being reduced either to rule, or to 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 485 
 
 reason, — the Winds and the Waves, — and the decisions of 
 the Dice Box. 
 
 33ctn3 &)\\Xtiv,, — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 IF 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. If thou be bound for a stranger, 
 thou art a fool ; if for a merchant, thou puttest thy estate 
 to learn to swun ; if for a churchman, he hath no inherit- 
 ance ; if for a lawyer, he will iind 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 
 Suretysliip, as from a manslayer or enchanter, bless thy- 
 self; for the best profit and return will be this — that if 
 thou force him for whom thou art bomid, to pay it him- 
 self, he wiU become thy Enemy ; if thou use to pay it 
 thyself, thou wilt become a Beggar. 
 
 J)U)S«})ttJjflttg. — Scott. 
 
 0! MANY a shaft, at random sent, 
 Finds mark the archer httle meant ; 
 And many a Word, at random spoken, 
 May soothe or wound a Heart that's broken. 
 
 ^UgjItCUJn. — Spenser. 
 
 HE lowrd on her with daungerous eye-glaunce, 
 Shewing his Nature in his countenaunce ; 
 His roUing Eies did never rest in place, 
 But walkte each were for feare of hid mischaunce, 
 Holding a lattis still before his Face, 
 Through wliich he still did peep as forward he did pace. 
 
 ^incartng. — Hierocles. 
 
 FEOM a common custom of Swearing, men easily slide 
 into Perjury ; therefore if thou wouldst not be per- 
 jured, do not use to swear. 
 
 E5C ^aC0J>5ant. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Ton are meek and humble-mouth' d ; 
 You sign yom" place and calling, in full seeming. 
 With Meekness and Humility : but yom- Heart 
 Is cramm'd with Arrogancy, Spleen, and Pride. 
 You have, by fortune. 
 
 Gone slightly o'er low steps ; and now are mounted, 
 
4-8 6 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTR ; 
 
 Where powers are your retainers : and your words, 
 Domestics to you, serve your will, as't please 
 Yourself pronounce their office. 
 
 ^gmpatl^g. — Byron. 
 
 WHAT 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, 
 Abeady polish' d by the Hand Divine. 
 
 ^gmjiatl^g. — Darwin. 
 
 NO 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. 
 
 ^gmjjati^g. — Thomson. 
 
 The generous Heart 
 Should scorn a Pleasure which gives others Pain, 
 
 ^gmjiati^a. — Dryden. 
 
 NATUEE 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. 
 
 ^Smjpatfjy. — Virgil. 
 
 NOT being untutored in Sufiering, I learn to pity those 
 in Affliction. 
 
 ^gntjpatl^a, — Steele. 
 
 THEEE is a kind of Sympathy in Soixls, 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 quahties in both their minds which 
 bear a resemblance to one another. A generous and con- 
 stant passion in an agreeable Lover, where there is not too 
 great a disparity in other circumstances, is the greatest 
 Blessing that can befall the person beloved, and \S. over- 
 looked in one, may perhaps never be found in another. 
 
 ^gntjiatl^a. — Horace. 
 
 THE Human Countenance smiles on those who smile, 
 and weeps with those who weep. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 487 
 
 ^ymjjati^g. — Steme. 
 
 IN 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 j 
 Will was scarce concerned, and that the Mind was alto- | 
 gether passive ia the Sympathy which her own goodness ' 
 has excited. j 
 
 ^JJtttjpatl^a. — Shakespeare. 1 
 
 ONE touch of Nature makes the whole world kin — 
 That all, with one consent, praise new-bom gawds. 
 Though they are made and moulded of things past ; 
 And give to Dust, that is a httle gilt, 
 More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. 
 
 ;g5}JJnjpat|2. — Jean Paul. 
 
 THEEE are Eyes wliich need only to look up, to touch 
 every chord of a breast choked by the stifluig atmos- 
 phere of stiff and stagnant Society, and to call forth tones 
 wliich might become the accompanying music of a Life. 
 This gentle transfusion of Mind into Mind is the secret of 
 Sympathy. It is never imderstood, 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. 
 
 K'^t ^grc«. — Thomson. 
 
 WHEN on his heart the torrent-softness pours. 
 Then Wisdom prostrate hes, and fading fame 
 Dissolves in air away ; while the fond soul. 
 Wrapt in gay visions of unreal Bliss, 
 StUl paints the illusive form ; the kindhng grace ; 
 The enticing Smile ; the modest-seeming eye, 
 Beneath whose beauteous beams, belying Heaven, 
 Lurk searchless cunning. Cruelty, and Death, 
 And still, false warbhng in his cheated ear, 
 j Her syren voice, enchanting, di'aws him on 
 j To guileful shores, and meads of fatal Joy. 
 
 j Cact. — CoUon. 
 
 NEVEE join with your Friend when he abuses his 
 Horse or his Wife, unless the one is about to be sold, 
 I and the other to be buried. 
 
488 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 €^a(t. — Anon. 
 
 A LITTLE Management may often evade Eesistance, 
 wliich a vast force might vainly strive to overcome. 
 
 %KtX. — Colton. 
 
 GEANT graciously what you cannot refuse safely, and 
 conciUate those you cannot conquer. 
 
 Kmt. — Colton. 
 
 MEN 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 wiU be 
 outdone by men of less brilliant, hut more convertible 
 Q.uahfications, and whose strength, ia one point, is not 
 coimterbalanced by any disproportion in another. 
 
 Eafeixt. — Colton. 
 
 DISAPPOINTED 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 detaihng their Misfor- 
 tunes, they only let us into the secret of iheir Mistakes ; 
 and, in accusing their patrons of Blindness, make it 
 appear that they ovxght rather to have accused them of 
 Sagacity ; since it would seem that they saw too much, 
 rather than too little ; namely, that second-rate perform- 
 ances were too often made the foundation for first-rate 
 pretensions. 
 
 ^rt^tflcracg of Calent. — Thomson. 
 
 Who e'er amidst the sons 
 Of Reason, Valour, Liberty, and Virtiie, 
 Displays distinguish' cl Merit, is a Noble 
 Of Nature's own creatmg. Such have risen, 
 Sprung from the dust ; or where had been our honom-s ? 
 
 ^Latent ^Calcut. — I/a Bochefoucauld. 
 
 IT seems that Nature has concealed at the bottom of our 
 minds Talents and Abihties 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 489 
 
 Calittng. — Sir Walter Ealeigh. 
 
 SPEAKING much is a sign of Vanity j for he that is 
 lavish in Words, is a Niggard in Deed. 
 
 €;alftms. — Cowper. 
 
 WORDS learn' d by rote, a PaiTot may rehearse, 
 But talkmg is not always to converse ; 
 Not more distinct from Harmony divine, 
 The constant creaking of a Country Sign. 
 
 ^aTfetttS. — Toung. 
 
 A DEARTH of words a woman need not fear ; 
 But 'tis a task indeed to learn — to hear. 
 In that the skiU of Conversation Hes ; 
 That shows or makes you both pohte and wise. 
 
 Calfttng. — Socrates. 
 
 SUCH 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. 
 
 CalRtns. — Byron. 
 
 BUT hght and airy, stood on the alert, 
 And shone in the best part of Dialogue. 
 By humom-ing always what they might assert. 
 And hstening to the topics most in vogue ; 
 Now grave, now gay, but never dull or pert ; 
 And smihng but in secret — cunning rogue ! 
 He ne'er presvim'd to make an Error clearer, — 
 In short, there never was a better Hearer. 
 
 CalJtmS. — Sir Walter Baleigh. 
 
 HE that cannot refrain from much speaking, is Hke a 
 City vdthout Walls, and less pains in the world a man 
 cannot take, than to hold his tongue : therefore if thou 
 observeth tliis rule in aU assembhes, thou shalt seldom 
 err ; restrain thy Choler, hearken much, and speak httle ; 
 for the Tongue is the instrument of the greatest Good 
 and greatest Evil that is done in the world. 
 
 SDalifetns. — Young. 
 
 WINE may indeed excite the meekest Dame ; 
 But keen Xantippe, scorning borrow' d flame. 
 Can vent her thunders, and her hghtnings play. 
 O'er coohng Gruel, and composing Tea. 
 
490 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SnalfetUfl. — Roscommon. 
 
 What you keep by you, you may change and mend ; 
 But Words once spoken can never be recall' d. 
 
 Cal&UXfl. — Lamter. 
 
 HE who seldom speaks, and with one calm well-timed 
 word can strike dumb the Loquacious, is a G-enius 
 or a Hero. 
 
 KnMn^, — Shaftesbury. 
 
 THEY who are great Talkers in company, have never 
 been any Talkers by themselves, nor used to private 
 discussions of our home Eegimen. 
 
 CaBtnjff. — Si/r Roger V Estrange. 
 
 THEEE are braying Men in the W^orld as well as 
 braying Asses ; for, what's loud and senseless talking 
 and Swearing, any other than Braying. 
 
 ^aCfetng. — From the French. 
 
 A WISE Man reflects before he speaks ; a Fool speaks, 
 and then reflects on what he has uttered. 
 
 ^TalfttttS. — Selden. 
 
 WOEDS must be fitted to a Man's mouth : 'twas well 
 said of the feUow that was to make a speech for my 
 Lord Mayor, when he desired to take the Measure of his 
 Lordship's Mouth. 
 
 Eal&mfl. — Plutarch. 
 
 IE you light upon an impertinent Talker, that sticks to 
 you Hke a Bur, to the disappointment of your impor- 
 tant occasions, deal free with him, break off the Discourse, 
 and pursue your Business. 
 
 EalStng. — Colton. 
 
 IT 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 PMosopher or the Physician can 
 judge, the patient must open his mouth. Some men 
 envelope themselves in such an impenetrable cloak of 
 Silence, that the Tongue will afford us no symptoms of 
 the temperament of the mind. Such tacitm-nity, 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Sal&tng. — Montesquieu. 
 
 THOSE who have few affairs to attend to, are great 
 Speakers. The less men think, the more they talk. 
 
 CalSing. — Terence. 
 
 HE who indulges in Liberty of Speech, will hear things, 
 ia return, which he will not like. 
 
 STallfttlTfl. — Flutarch. 
 
 IP any man think it a small matter, or of mean concern- 
 ment, 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. 
 
 CalfitlTfl. — Socrates. 
 
 THE Tongue of a fool is the key of his Counsel, which, 
 ia a Wise Man, Wisdom hath in keeping. 
 
 %K^tt, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 Men more easily renounce then' interests than their Tastes. 
 Ca^te. — BurTce. 
 
 IT is for the most part in our skiU in Manners, and in 
 the observances of time and place and of Decency in 
 general, that what is called Taste by way of distinction 
 consists ; and wliich is in reahty no other than a more 
 refined judgment. * * * The cause of a wrong Taste is a 
 defect of Judgment. 
 
 Cas'te. — La Bruyere. 
 
 TALENT, Taste, Wit, Good Sense, are very different 
 tilings, but by no means incompatible. Between 
 Good Sense and Good Taste there exists the same difier- 
 ence as between Cause and Effect, and between Wit and 
 Talent there is the same proportion as between a whole 
 and its part. 
 
 Ea^te. — Greville. 
 
 MAY 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 ? 
 
 ^Kitt. — Shenstone. 
 
 IT seems with Wit and Good-nature, " Utrmn hormn 
 mavis accipe." Taste and Good-nature are universally 
 connected. 
 
492 USTRA TI0N8 OF TR TJTE ; 
 
 %tVCV^tX. — Shakespeare, 
 
 THAT which combined us was most great, and let not 
 A leaner Action rend us. Wliat's amiss, 
 May it be gently heard : Wlien we debate 
 Om- ti'ivial difference aloud, we do commit 
 Murder in healing Wounds : Then, 
 Touch you the sourest pomts with sweetest terms, 
 Nor curstness grow to the matter. 
 
 %ZViV^tX. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 WHY should a Man, whose Blood is warm within, 
 Sit like his Qrandsire cut in Alabaster ? 
 Sleep, when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice 
 By being peevish ? 
 
 KtvaTj^UKXltt. — Burton. 
 
 TEMPEEANCE is a bridle of gold ; he who uses it 
 rightly, is more like a G-od than a Man ; the English, 
 who are the most subject, of all other people, to Melan- 
 choly, are, in general, excellent feeders. 
 
 Canjierauce. — Hesiod. 
 
 FOOLS ! not to know how far a humble lot 
 Exceeds abundance by Injustice got ; 
 How Health and Temperance bless the rustic swain, 
 Willie Luxury destroys her pamper'd train. 
 
 Ktm^ZtKXXtt, — Claudian. 
 
 MEN live best on moderate means : Nature has dis- 
 pensed to all men wherewithal to be happy, if Man-, 
 kind did but understand how to use her gifts. 
 
 C^mp^rantE. — Socrates. 
 
 THEEE is no difference between Knowledge and Tem- 
 perance ; for he who knows what is good and embraces 
 it, who knows what is bad and avoids it, is learned and tem- 
 perate. But they who know very well what ought to be 
 done, and yet do quite otherwise, are ignorant and stupid. 
 
 'EtXW^ZXmtZ. — Sir Walter S.aleigh. 
 
 EXCEPT thou desire to hasten thine end, take this for 
 a general rule, that thou never add any artificial Heat 
 to thy body by Wme or Spice, until thou find that time 
 hath decayed thy natural heat; and the sooner thou 
 beginnest to help Natui-e, the sooner she will forsake 
 thee, and leave thee to trust altogether to Art. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 493 
 
 Ktm^ttmtZ. — Fuller. 
 
 MODERATION is the silken string running tlirougli 
 the pearl-chain of aU Virtues. 
 
 €fft ^tm^tSt, — Campiell. 
 
 HE comes ! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky 
 With murmui'ing W^rath, and thunders from on high! 
 Heaven's fiery Horse, heneath his warrior form, 
 Paws the hght 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 trembhng isles in Ocean's bed, 
 Are shook ; and Nature rocks beneath his tread ! 
 
 on. 
 
 HAEK, hark ! deep sounds, and deeper still, 
 Are howHng 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. 
 
 Cfje Ccmjlggt. — Spenser. 
 
 SUDDEINE they see from midst of all the maine 
 The sm-ging waters hke a Mountaine rise, 
 And the great Sea, puft up with proud Disdame, 
 To swell above the measure of his guise. 
 As threat'ning to devoure all that liis Powi-e despise. 
 
 ^Ift ^Sm^tit — JSt/ron. 
 
 THE sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh Night, 
 And Storm, and Darkness, ye are wondi-ous strong, 
 Yet lovely in your strength, as is the hght 
 Of a dark eye ia Woman ! Far along, 
 From peak to peak, the ratthng crags among 
 Leaps the hve Thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
 But evei*y mountain now hath found a tongue, 
 And Jura answei-s, through her misty shroud, 
 Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! 
 And this is m 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 Kt lake sliines, a phosphoric sea. 
 And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 
 
494- ILI^ TJSTBA TIONS OF TB UTE; 
 
 And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee 
 Of the loud Hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, 
 As if they did rejoice o'er a young Earthquake's birth. 
 
 ^\)t ^tvm^tii. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 THE Night grows wondrous dark : deep-swelling gusts 
 And sultry stillness take the rule by turn, 
 AVhilst o'er our heads the black and heavy Clouds 
 EoU slowly on. This surely bodes a Storm. 
 
 W^z Kzva^zit — Milton. 
 
 I HEAED the wrack 
 As Earth and Sky would mingle ; but myself 
 Was distant ; and these flaws, thoiigh Mortals fear tlieni 
 As dang'roiis to the piUar'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. 
 
 Ktm^tit at ^^a. -- Thomson. 
 
 THEN issues forth the Storm with sudden biu-st. 
 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 discolom-'d deep. 
 Thro' the black Night that sits immense around, 
 Lash'd into foam, the fierce contending briae, 
 Seems o'er a thousand raging Waves to bum. 
 
 %Zm^tKXiax\. — Spenser. 
 
 BUT all in vaine : no Eort can be so strong, 
 Ne fleshly Brest can anned 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 chain e not to be bownd, 
 Doth soonest fall in disaventrous fight, 
 And yeeldes his caytive neck to Victour's most despight. 
 
 5Cemptatt0n. — Fo;pe. 
 
 THE devil was piqu'd 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 495 
 
 ^Tcmptatton. — Shakespeare. 
 
 'Tis one thing to be tempted, 
 Another thing to fall. 
 
 EeWTjptattOn. — Thomson. 
 
 Ah then, ye Fair ! 
 Be greatly cautious of your shding Hearts : 
 Dare not the infectious Sigh ; the pleaduig look, 
 Down- cast, and low, in meek submission drest. 
 But full of Gruile. Let not the serpent Tongue, 
 Prompt to deceive, with adulation smooth, 
 Gain on your purpos'd wLU. Nor in the bower, 
 Where woodbines flaunt, and roses shed a couch, 
 Wliile Evening draws her crimson curtains round. 
 Trust your soft minutes with betraying Man. 
 
 nTjptattOlT. — Johnson. 
 
 TO 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 Ms master does not 
 know how much there is of it, he would give a strong proof 
 of Honesty. But tliis 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 injury ; and, if he is overcome, 
 you share liis GruUt. 
 
 ^Cnnptattnit. — Shakespeare. 
 Devils soonest tempt, resembling Spirits of Light. 
 
 3rcmj)tatt0n. — Shakespeare. 
 
 LIE in the lap of Sin, and not mean liarm ? 
 It is hypocrisy against the Devil : 
 They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, 
 The devil their Virtue tempts, and they tempt Heaven. 
 
 C0mj)tatt0n. — From the Latin. 
 
 Opportunity makes the Thief. 
 
 — T>ugaU Stewart. 
 
 THERE are very few original Thhikers 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. 
 
496 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 C^^Org. — Shakespeare. 
 THOiraHTS are hut Dreams till their effects be tried. 
 
 m^imi 0f t^fe mati^. — couon. 
 
 IT would be most lamentable if the good things of this 
 World were rendered either more valuable or more 
 lasting ; for, despicable as they already are, too many are 
 found eager to purchase them, even at the price of their 
 Souls! 
 
 Ei)mlm3. — Lavater. 
 
 THINKERS are scarce as Gold : but he, whose thoughts 
 embrace aU. his subject, pm'sues it uninterruptedly 
 and fearless of consequences, is a Diamond of enormous 
 size. 
 
 Cl^mStiifl. — Coltoii. 
 
 THOSE who have finished by making all others think 
 with them, have usually been those who began by 
 daring to think with themselves. 
 
 ^ijtnitftXfl. — Johnson. 
 
 MANKIND have a great aversion to intellectual Labom-; 
 but even supposing Knowledge to be easily attainable, 
 more people would be content to be ignorant than would 
 take even a httle troiible to acquire it. 
 
 Cljtr^t. — Byron. 
 
 TiLii 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. 
 
 Ci^DUflTjt^ antf OTorlt^. — ^are. 
 
 IT is much easier to think right without doing right, 
 than to do right without thinking right. Just Thoughts 
 may, and wofuhy 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 Under- 
 standing can do httle in purifying an impure heart, the 
 strongest little in straightening a crooked one. You 
 cannot reason or talk an Augean stable into cleanliness. 
 
OR, IHINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 A single clay's work would make more pi'ogress in sucli a 
 task than a Centiiry's words. 
 
 STtmt. — SJiaJcespeare. 
 Meeex Larks ai-e ploughmen's Clocks. 
 ?Cttn0. — Shakespeare. 
 Time, whose million' d accidents 
 Creep iu 'twixt Vows, and change decrees of Kings, 
 Tan sacred Beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents. 
 Divert strong minds to the com*se of altering things. 
 
 CTUUC. — Shakespeare. 
 Time. I, — that please some, tiy all ; both Joy, and Ten-or, 
 Of Good and Bad ; that make, and imfold, Error. 
 
 GTtnrp. — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Stih on it creeps, 
 Each little moment at another's heels. 
 Till Hom-s, Days, Years, and Ages are made up 
 Of such small parts as these, and men look back, 
 W orn and bewildered, wond'ring how it is. 
 Thou trar'llest hke a Ship in the wide ocean, 
 Which hath no bounduig shore to mark its progress. 
 
 STtmc. — Clarendon. 
 
 IT is no wonder tliat when we are prodigal of nothing | 
 else, when we are over- thrifty of many tliuigs which [ 
 we may well spare, we are very prodigal of om* Time, 
 wliich is the only precious Jewel of which we cannot bo 
 too thrifty, because we look upon it as notliing worth, 
 and that makes us not care how we spend it. Tlie 
 Labouring Man and the Artificer knows what every 
 hour of his time is worth, what it will yield liim, and 
 parts not with it, but for the full value : they are only 
 noblemen and gentlemen, who sho\ild 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 
 tilings. 
 
 ®tmc. — 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. 
 
 K K 
 
498 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTS; 
 
 %imZ, — Byron. 
 
 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 j 
 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 ! 
 
 SCtnrC. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The End crowns all ; 
 And that old common arbitrator, Time, 
 Will one day end it. 
 
 STtme. — Colton. 
 
 TIME is the most subtle yet the most insatiable ot 
 Depredators, and by appearing to take nothing, is 
 permitted to take all, nor can it be satisfied, imtil it has 
 stolen the World from us, and us from the World. It 
 constantly flies, yet overcomes aU things by flight, and 
 although it is the present ally, it wiU be the future con- 
 queror of Death. Time, the cradle of Hope, but the 
 grave of Ambition, is the stem corrector of Fools, but the 
 salutary counsellor of the Wise, bringing all they dread 
 to the one, and aU they desire to the other; but, hke 
 Cassandra, it warns us with a voice that even the sagest 
 discred it too long, and the silHest beheve too late. Wisdom 
 walks before it. Opportunity with it, and Eepentance 
 behind it ; he that has made it his Mend, will have httle 
 to fear from his Enemies, but he that has made it his 
 enemy, will have Httle to hope from his Friends. 
 
 ^tJttB, — STiaJcespeare. 
 
 We see which way the stream of Time doth run. 
 And are enforced from our most quiet sphere 
 By the rough torrent of Occasion, 
 
 ®tmc. — Cowper. 
 Time, as he passes us, has a Dove's wing, . 
 Unsoil'd and swift, and of a silken sound. 
 
 ^TtmC. — Cicero. 
 
 TIME destroys the speculations of Man, but it confirms 
 the judgment of Nature. 
 
OR, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 499 
 
 Ctmc. — 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 ! 
 
 STtinC. — Shakespea/re. 
 Time is the old Justice, that examines all offenders. 
 
 ^t'mC. — Lavater. 
 
 THE great rule of moral conduct is, next to God, to 
 respect Time. 
 
 STuttC. — Shakespeare. 
 What's past, and what's to come, is strew' d with husks, 
 The foi-mless ruin of Obhvion. 
 
 2Ct'nt0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TIME 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 sfill 
 withal. He trots hard with a young maid, between the 
 contract of her Marriage and the day it is solemnized ; ii' 
 the iaterim be but a se'nnight, Tune's pace is so hard, j 
 that it seems the length of seven years. — He ambles with | 
 a Priest that lacks Latin, and a Eich Man that hath not 
 the Q-out; for the one sleeps easily, because he cannot 
 study ; and the other hves merrily, because he feels no 
 pain : the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful 
 learning ; the other knowuig no burden of heavy tedious 
 peniiry : these Time ambles withal. — He gallops with a 
 Thief to the gaUows : 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. 
 
 ^TtmC. — Young. 
 
 YOUTH 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 Deatli-beds ; they can tell. 
 
566 iLLtlSTEATIOM bF TUXITK; 
 
 ^XXat. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 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 hoiu-, we ripe and ripe. 
 And then, from hour to hour, we rot. and rot, 
 And thereby hangs a Tale. 
 
 5Etme. — Steele. 
 
 IT is notorious to Philosophers, that Joy and G-rief 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 Hoiu' a 
 Minute. 
 
 '^imt. — Byron. 
 " "TTTHEEB is the World eries Young, at eighty ; 
 VV "Wliere 
 
 The World in which a man was bom ?" 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, Cliiefs, Orators, Queens, Patriots, Kings, 
 And Dandies, aU are gone on the vraid's wings. 
 
 %ivcit, — ShaTcespeare. 
 
 TIME is like a fashionable host. 
 That shghtly shakes his parting guest by the hand ; 
 And with his arms outstretch' d, as he would fly, 
 Grasps in the comer ; Welcome ever smiles, 
 And EareweU goes out sigMng. 
 
 ^xmt. — Seneca. 
 
 THE velocity with which Time fllies is infinite, as is 
 most apparent to those who look back. 
 
 CintE. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 LIKE as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, 
 So do our Minutes hasten to their end ; 
 Each changing place with that which goes before ; 
 In sequent Toil all forwards do contend. 
 
 ®tme. — Horace. 
 It flows, and it will flowuninterruptedly tlirough every Age, 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 501 
 
 f^ime. — Blair. 
 
 Time hurries on 
 With a resistless, unremitting Stream, 
 Yet treads more soft than e'er did midnight Thief, 
 That sHdes his hand under the Miser's pillow, 
 And carries off his Prize. 
 
 ^Ctme. — Dyer. 
 
 ?rplS now the Raven's bleak abode ; 
 
 JL 'Tis now the apartment of the Toad ; 
 And there the Fox secxirely feeds ; 
 And there the poisonous Adder breeds, 
 Conceal' d ui 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 httle rule, a Httle sway, 
 A Sunbeam in a winter's day, 
 Is all the proud and mighty have 
 Between the Cradle and the Grave. 
 
 Kiim, — Byron. 
 
 There is given 
 Unto the things of Earth, which Time hath bent, 
 A spirit's feeling, and whei'e he hath leant 
 His hand, but broke his Scythe, there is a power 
 And magic. 
 
 W)t Wixa\X% Kimt. — Zimmerman. 
 
 THE Quarter of an Hour before Dinner is the worst 
 suitors can choose. 
 
 lE-ivcit. — Mason. 
 
 AS every thread of Gold is valuable, so is every minute 
 of Tune. 
 
 W-ixttt. — ShaJcespeare, 
 
 MIS-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 ; 
 
502 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 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 Eight ; 
 
 To ruinate proud buildings with thy houi-s, 
 
 And smear with dust their ghttering 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 quiUs from ancient ravens' 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 : 
 
 To show the beldame daughters of her daughter ; 
 
 To make the child a man, the man a child : 
 
 To slay the Tiger, that doth hve by slaughter ; 
 
 To tame the Unicom, and Lion wild ; 
 
 To mock the subtle, in themselves beguil'd ; 
 
 To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops, 
 
 And waste huge Stones with little Water-drops. 
 
 Why worh'st thou Mischief in thy pilgrimage, 
 
 Unless thou could' st retu/rn to make amends ? 
 
 One poor retiring minute in an age. 
 
 Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends ; 
 
 Lending him Wit, that to bad debtors lend. 
 
 %imt, — ShaJcespeare, 
 Minutes, Hours, Days, Weeks, and Tears, 
 Pass'd over to the end they were created. 
 Would bring white hairs unto a qtiiet Grrave. 
 
 STtmtlfttp. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 GO, prick thy Face, and over-red thy Fear, 
 Thou lily Uver'd Boy, 
 
 Those linen cheeks of tliine 
 Are cotmsellors to Fear. 
 
 2E5e CEtoU Sjltrtt. — Joanna JBaillie, 
 
 FULL many a Storm on this grey head has beat j 
 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 Eelease. 
 I'm sick of worldly broils, and fain would rest 
 With those who war no more. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 503 
 
 BTttfe^. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 HIGH Titles debase, instead of elevating, those who 
 know not how to support them. 
 
 Eabsaa. — Todd. 
 
 ALL experienced people wiQ tell you that the habit of 
 using Tobacco in any shape will soon render you 
 emaciated and consumptive, your Nerves shattered, your 
 Spirits low and moody, your Throat dry and demanding 
 stimulating drinks. 
 
 C0»m0rrofcD. — CoUon. 
 
 To-MOEEOW, didst thou say ? 
 Methought I heard Horatio say. To-morrow ! 
 Q-o to — I wUl 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 c\u"rency of idiots. Injurious bankrupt, 
 That guUs the easy creditor ! To-morrow ! 
 It is a period no where to be found 
 In aU the hoary registers of Time, 
 Unless perchance in the fool's calendar. 
 "Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society 
 "With those that own it. No, my Horatio, 
 'Tis Fancy's child, and FoUy is its father : 
 Wrought on such stuff as dreams are ; and baseless 
 As the fantastic visions of the Evening. 
 
 ^O'tnawaia. — Johnson. 
 
 Cak 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, condemn' 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, 
 StiU sees To-morrow dress'd in robes of triumph ; 
 StUl to the Lover's long-expecting arms. 
 To-morrow brings the visionaiy bride ; 
 But thou, too old to bear another cheat, 
 Learn, that the Present Hour alone is Man's. 
 
5 04. ILL USTBA TIONS OF TB UTH; 
 
 EO'Matxa'iai. — Young. 
 
 IN 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 Kes, 
 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. 
 
 ^tlf'Zaxmmt — From the Latin. 
 
 NOTHING- more is wanting to render a man miserable, 
 than that he should fancy he is so. 
 
 ZxmqniUit^. — Jean Paul. 
 
 WHEN the Heart of man is serene and tranquil, he 
 wants to enjoy nothing but himself ; every move- 
 ment — even corporeal movement — shakes the brimming 
 Nectar cup too rudely, 
 
 ^Crabelltnja:. — Lord lyttleton. 
 
 Tl/TE other cares in other chmes engage, 
 jLtj. Cares that become my birth, and suit my age ; 
 in various Knowledge to improve my youth,' 
 And conquer Prejudice, worst foe to 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. 
 
 ZxtS^aSS, — Cicero. 
 
 EYEEY man should submit to his own Grievances, 
 rather than trespass on the conveniences or comforts 
 of his Neighbour. 
 
 ^ ^TrnttSfeU ^^ixit — Joanna Baillie. 
 
 ONIG-HT, when good men rest, and infants sleep ! 
 Thou art to me no season of Eepose, 
 But a fear'd time of waking more intense. 
 Of Life more keen, of Misery more palpable. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 CrujStutfl t0 a^tXi, — 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 without Industry of their own, 
 will always be poor. 
 
 tSCxutt), — Greville. 
 
 THE mind's eye is perhaps no better fitted for the full 
 radiance of Truth, than is the body's for that of the 
 Sun. 
 
 Crtltl). — CoUon. 
 rnHE interests of Society often render it expedient not 
 J- 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. 
 
 €;rutf). — Terence. 
 Obseqtjiotjsness begets fi-iends, Truth, hatred. 
 
 Crut^. — I'aley. 
 
 I HAVE seldom known any one who deserted Truth in 
 trifles, that could be trusted in matters of Importance. 
 
 Snrut^. — From the Latin. 
 
 THERE is no doctrine so false as not to contain in it 
 some Truth. 
 
 Cruti^. — Shaftesbury. 
 
 THE most natural beauty m the world is Honesty and 
 moral Truth, For aU Beauty is Truth. True Features 
 make the beauty of a Face ; and true Proportions the 
 beauty of Arcliitectiu-e : as true Measures that of Har- 
 mony and Music. 
 
 Crut]^. — Phcedrus. 
 
 TO believe is dangerous, to be unbeHeving is equally so ; 
 the Truth, therefore, should be dihgently sought after, 
 lest that a foolish opinion should lead you to pronovmce 
 an unsound judgment. 
 
 Exnft}. — Goldsmith. 
 
 ILEAEN several great Truths : as that it is impossible 
 to see into the ways of Futurity ; that Punishment 
 always attends the viUain ; that Love is the fond soother 
 of the liuman breast. 
 
So6 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUIR; 
 
 5Erut^. — Johnson. 
 
 ACCUSTOM 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 wiU end. 
 
 STrUtl^. — 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. 
 
 %X\X^. — Locke. 
 
 TRUTH, whether in or out of fashion, is the measure 
 of Knowledge, andthebusmess of the Understanding ; 
 whatsoever is besides that, however authorised by consent, 
 is nothing but Ignorance, or something worse. 
 
 CtUt3^. — MacTcenzie. 
 
 IT is curious to observe how the nature of Truth maybe 
 changed by the garb it wears ; softened to the admoni- 
 tion of Friendship, or soured into the severity of Reproof; 
 yet this severity may be useful to some tempers ; it some- 
 what resembles a File, disagreeable in its operation, but 
 hard Metal may be the brighter for it. 
 
 ^rutl). — South. 
 
 THE Reason of things lies in a narrow compass, if the 
 Mind could at any tune be so happy as to hght upon 
 it. Most of the writings and discourses in the world are 
 but illustration and Rhetoric, which signifies as much as 
 nothing to a mind ui pursuit after the philosophical Truth 
 of things. 
 
 ®rut]^. — Casaulon. 
 
 THE study of Truth is perpetually joined with the love 
 of Vh-tue ; for there's no Virtue which derives not its 
 original from Truth ; as, on the contrary, there is no Yice 
 which has not its beginning from a Lie. Truth is the 
 foundation of aU knowledge, and the cement of all society. 
 
 ^Trutj^. — Ammian. 
 
 TRUTH is violated by Falsehood, and it maybe equally 
 outraged by Silence. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 Wm^. — CoUon. 
 
 THE adorer of Truth is above all present tlungs. Fu-m 
 in the midst of Temptation, and frank in the midst of i 
 Treachery, he wiU be attacked by those who have preju- I 
 dices, simply because he is without them, decried as a bad 
 bargain by all who want to purchase, because he alone is I 
 not to be bought, and abused by all parties, because he is ! 
 the advocate of none ; like the Dolphin, wliich is always { 
 painted more crooked than a ram's horn, although every j 
 Naturahst knows that it is the straightest Fish that ! 
 swims. 
 
 CCrut^. — Milton. 
 
 TEUTH is as impossible to be soiled by any outward 
 touch, as the Sunbeam ; though this iU 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 ; 
 tni tune, the midwife rather than the mother of Truth, 
 have washed and salted the infant, declared her legitimate, 
 and cluu-ched the father of his young Minerva, from the 
 needless causes of his p\irgation. 
 
 STrilt]^. — Shakespeare. ! 
 
 OHOW much more doth Beauty beauteous seem 
 By that sweet ornament which Truth doth give ! 
 The Eose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 The canker blooms have fuU as deep a dye 
 As the perfumed tincture of the Eoses ; 
 Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly. 
 When summer's breath then- masked buds 'discloses ; 
 But, for their Virtue only is their show, , 
 They hve unwoo'd, and unrespected fade ; 
 Die to themselves : sweet Eoses do not so ; 
 Of their sweet Deaths are sweetest odours made. 
 
 ^rut^. — Covyper, 
 All Truth is precious, if not all divine, 
 And what dilates the pow'rs must needs refine. 
 
 ©rut^. — Tacitus. 
 
 TEUTH is estabhshed by investigation and delay; 
 Falsehood prospers by precipitancy. 
 
 CTruti^. — Ammian. 
 Teuth is simple, requiring neither Study nor Art. 
 
5o8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 WtXl^. — Colton. 
 
 THE affairs of this world are kept together by what 
 little Truth and Integrity stiU remains amongst us ; 
 and yet I much question 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, hke pure Gold, has been found unfit for circula- 
 tion, because men have discoTered that it is far more con- 
 venient to adulterate the Truth, than to refine themselves. 
 They will not advance their Minds to the Standard, there- 
 fore they lower the Standard to their Minds. 
 
 Si^rufi^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 If circumstances lead me, I will find 
 
 Where Truth is hid, though it were hid indeed 
 
 Within the Centre. 
 
 ^rutl^. — Seneca. 
 The expression of Truth is Simplicity. 
 
 ■SDruti). — Cotoper. 
 
 Much learned dust 
 Involves the combatants, each claiming Truth, 
 And Truth disclaiming both. And thus they spend 
 Tlie little wick of Life's poor shallow lamp, 
 In playing tricks with Nature, giving laws 
 To distant worlds, and trifling in their own. 
 
 Crutf). — Shakespeare. 
 
 Tetjth needs no colour, with his colom' fix'd ; 
 Beauty no pencil. Beauty's Truth to lay ; 
 But best is best, if never intermix' d. 
 
 Knit^. — Colton. 
 
 TRUTH is the object of Reason, and this is one ; Beauty 
 is the object of Taste, and this is multiform. 
 
 ^I^ruffj. — Colton. 
 
 TRUTH can hardly be expected to adapt herself to the 
 crooked policy and wily sinuosities of worldly affairs ; 
 for Truth, like hght, travels only in straight hnes. 
 
 ^ritt^. — From the Latin. 
 
 TRUTH, by whomsoever spoken, comes from Q-od. It 
 is, in short, a divine essence. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 509 
 
 CTrutl). — 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 Typlion 
 with his consphators, how they dealt with the good Osiris, 
 took the vu'giu Truth, hewed her lovely form uito a 
 thousand pieces, and scattered them to the foiu' winds. 
 Fi'om that time ever since, tlie sad friends of Tnith, such 
 as durst appear, imitating the careful search that Isis 
 made for the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down 
 gathering up hmb by limb stiU as they could fiud 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 
 featui'e of Loveliness and Perfection. 
 
 ^rut^. — Colton. 
 
 IF a man be sincerely wedded to Truth, he must make 
 up his mind to find her a portionless Vhgin, and he 
 must take her for herself alone. The contract, too, must 
 be to love, chei'isli, and obey her, not only imtil Death, 
 but beyond it ; for this is an union that must survive not 
 only Death, but Time, the conqueror of Death. 
 
 STrut^. — From the Latin. 
 Teuth fears nothing but Concealment. 
 
 CTrut^. — From the French. 
 
 THE adherence to Truth does not produce so much 
 good in the world, as the appearances of it do mischief. 
 
 2Crut5. — Steele. 
 
 THOtJG-H men may impose upon themselves what they 
 please, by their corrupt imaginations, Ti-uth wiU. ever 
 keep its station; and as glory is nothing else but the 
 shadow of Virtiie, it wUl certainily disappear at the depar- 
 ture of Vu'tue. 
 
 ^Trttti^. — Sir Philip Sidney. 
 
 HE that finds Truth, without loving her, is hke a bat ; 
 which, though it have eyes to discern that there is a 
 Sim, yet hath so evil eyes, that it cannot dehght in the 
 Sun. 
 
5IO ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBTJTH; 
 
 %XM^, — 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 bhthe carohng 
 come from the Heart, quite as much as the quadruped's 
 monotonous cry ? And it is then altogether impossible 
 to take up one's abode with Truth, and to let aU sweet 
 homely feehngs 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 otherwise did Socrates and Plato 
 commune with Truth ; no otherwise Cervantes and Shake- 
 speare. This playfulness of Truth is beautifully repre- 
 sented by Landor, in the Conversation between Marcus 
 Cicero and his brother, in an allegory which has the voice 
 and the spirit of Plato. On the other hand, the outcries 
 of those who exclaim against every soimd more hvely than 
 a bray or a bleat, as derogatory to Truth, are often 
 prompted, not so much by their deep feehng 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, 
 oiu" Self-Conceit, that makes us so sore and irritable. To 
 a grave argmnent we may reply gravely, and fancy that 
 we have the best of it : but he who is too duU or too 
 angry to smile, cannot answer a smile, except by fretting 
 and fuming. 
 
 CrutI). — Colton. 
 
 THE greatest friend of Truth is Time; her greatest 
 enemy is Prejudice ; and her constant companion is 
 Humility. 
 
 STrut^. — Colton. 
 
 THE temple of Truth is bmlt indeed of stones of 
 Crystal, but, inasmuch as men have been concerned 
 in rearing it, it has been consohdated by a cement com- 
 posed of baser materials. It is deeply to be lamented that 
 Truth herself wiU attract httle attention, and less Esteem, 
 until it be amalgamated with some particular party, per- 
 suasion, or sect ; unmixed and unadulterated, it too often 
 proves as unfit for cm-rency, as pure gold for circulation. 
 Sir Walter Ealeigh has observed, that he that follows 
 Truth too closely, must take care that she does not strike 
 out his teeth. 
 
OB, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 511 
 
 CTruti^. — South. 
 
 TRUTH 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 accordingly 
 makes its approaches. Sometimes it thinks it gains a 
 point; and presently again it finds itself baffled and 
 beaten ofi": yet stUl it renews the Onset, attacks the 
 difficulty afresh, plants this reasoning, and that argument, 
 this consequence, and that distinction, hke so many 
 intellectual batteries, tiU. at length it forces a way and 
 passage into the obstinate enclosed Truth, that so long 
 wthstood and defied all its assau.lts. 
 
 S^rutl). — Sir T. Brown. 
 
 EVERY man is not a proper champion for Truth, nor 
 fit to take up the gauntlet in the cause of Verity ; 
 many, from the ignorance of these maxims and an incon- 
 siderate zeal unto Truth, have too rashly charged the 
 troops of Error, and remain as trophies unto the Ene- 
 mies 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 
 lier on a battle. 
 
 ^Trut]^. — Cato. 
 
 SOME men are more beholden to their bitterest Ene- 
 mies, than to Friends who appear to be sweetness 
 itself. The former frequently tell the Truth, but the 
 latter never. 
 
 SCruti^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 What ! gone without a word ? 
 Ay, so true Love should do : it cannot speak ; 
 For Truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it. 
 
 WtVit^. — Steele. 
 
 HUMAN nature is not so much depraved as to hinder 
 us from respecting 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 uneasiness in some 
 part of the brute creation. They are without Artifice or 
 Malice ; and we love Truth too weU to resist the charms 
 of Sincerity. 
 
512 ILLUSTBATI0N8 OF TRUTH; 
 
 SCruti). — Sir W. Temple. 
 
 TEUTH will be uppermost, one time or other, like Cork, 
 though kept down in the water, 
 
 STnttl). — CoUon. 
 
 NO 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 Infii-mities that sui-roimd us, have rendei*ed the Truth, 
 and nothing but the Truth, as hazardous and contraband 
 a commodity as a Man can possibly deal in. 
 
 SrutI). — Dry den. 
 
 WE find but few historians of all ages, who have been 
 dihgent enough in their search for Truth : it is their 
 common method to take on trust what tliey distribute to 
 the pubhc ; by which means a Falsehood once received 
 from a famed writer becomes traditional to Posterity. 
 
 SCrtttlj. — Sara. 
 
 IT is a mistake to suppose the Poet does not know Truth 
 by sight qtiite as well as the Philosopher. He must ; 
 for he is ever seeing her in the mirrors of Nature. The 
 difference between them is, that the Poet is satisfied with 
 worshipping her reflected image, wlnle 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 weds her. 
 
 S^graixng. — Shakespem-e. 
 
 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 sheep,) will be the Tire 
 To kindle their di-y stubble ; and their Blaze 
 Shall darken liim for ever. 
 
 ^jraitng. Claudian. 
 
 HE who strikes terror into others, is himself in con- 
 tinual fear. 
 
 W^t Mxiittn. — From the Latin. 
 
 EVEEY thing unknown to us, we suppose to be mag- 
 nificent. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 513 
 
 etc SSimatural. — Shakespeare. 
 
 TPTAT Nature whicli 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. 
 
 "^BLntanitvanintii, — Shakespeare. 
 He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, 
 Let him not know it, and he's not robb'd at all. 
 
 2En^t0alftU0i^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O PEEiious mouth:-, 
 That bear in them one and the selfsame tongue. 
 Either of Condemnation or Approof ! 
 Bidding the Law make cm-t'sy to their will ; 
 Hooking both right and wrong to the Appetite, 
 To follow as it draws ! 
 
 W^t '^ixlttX. — Fuller. 
 
 GO not to a covetous old Man with any Request too 
 soon in the Morning, before he hath taken in that 
 day's Prey : for Iris 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. 
 
 Wi^t ?E^Urjia:. — Shakespeare. 
 
 A SCEPTRE, snatch'd with an unruly Hand, 
 Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd : 
 And he that stands upon a shppery place. 
 Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. 
 
 UalOttl*. — Shakespeare. 
 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, 
 Wliose weak untimber'd sides but even now 
 Co-rivall'd gi-eatness ? either to harbour fled. 
 Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so 
 Doth Valour's Show, and Valour's Worth, divide, 
 L 1 
 
5 14 ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR UTR; 
 
 In storms of Fortttne : For, in her ray and briglitness, 
 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 Coura"!!, 
 As roused with rage, with rage doth sympathize, ' 
 And with an accent tuned in self-same key, 
 Returns to chiding Fortune. 
 
 2Fal0Ur. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE'S truly raliant, that can wisely sufier 
 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. 
 
 ?FaTOUr. — La HochefoucauU. 
 
 PERFECT Valour is to do unwitnessed what we should 
 be capable of doing before all the world. 
 
 2Fantty. — Anon. 
 
 PRIDE and Yanity are for ever spoken of side by side ; 
 and many suppose that they are merely difierent 
 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 wiU not stoop to be vaia ; a Yain Man is 
 so busy in bowing and wriggling to catch fair words from 
 ! others, that he can never lift up his head into Pride. 
 
 ! SEanttj). — CoUon. 
 
 LADIES of Fashion starve their Happiness to feed 
 their Yanity, and their Love to feed their Pride. 
 
 S^anttg. — Pope. 
 
 EYERY man has just as much Yanity as he wants 
 Understanding. 
 
 S^auttg. — Colton. 
 
 IF you cannot inspire a woman with love of you, fill 
 her above the brim with Love of herself;— all that 
 runs over will be yoxu's. 
 
 SEauttj). — Qreville. 
 
 VANITY is the Poison of agreeableness ; yet as Poison, 
 when artfully and properly applied, laas a salutary 
 effect in medicine, so has Yanity in the commerce and 
 society in the World, 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 515 
 
 Wmityi. — Anon. 
 
 THERE are persons who would lie prostrate on the 
 ground, if their Vanity or their Pride did not hold 
 them up. 
 
 Wmityi. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 EVERY person complains of the badness of his Me- 
 mory, but none of their defective judgment. 
 SFanitjJ. — Anon. 
 
 PRIDE 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 
 Vauity, the froth and consummation of weakness, every 
 indulgence is shown. For Pride stands aloof by itself; 
 and that we are too mob-hke to bear : Vanity is unable to 
 stand, except by leaning on others, and is careful, there- 
 fore, of giving offence ; nay, is ready to fawn on those by 
 whom it hopes to be fed. 
 
 JFanttg. — Sunft. 
 
 SOME men make a Vanity of teUing their faults ; they 
 are the strangest men in the World; they cannot 
 dissemble ; they own it is a folly ; they have lost abun- 
 dance of advantages by it ; but if you woidd 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 altitude, 
 ©anttg. — Anon. 
 
 THEY who do speak ill of themselves, do so mostly as 
 the surest way of proving how modest and candid 
 they are. 
 
 SFanttg. — Sterne. 
 
 VANITY bids all her Sons be brave, and all her 
 Daughters chaste and courteous. But why do we 
 need her instructions ? Ask the comedian who is taught 
 a part which he does dot feel. 
 
 2Fe«Seaitce. — Bonaparte. 
 
 Ven&eancs has no Foresight. 
 
 JSFer60)Sttg. — Shakespeare. 
 
 HE draweth out the thread of his Verbosity finer than 
 the staple of his argtmient. I abhor such fanatical 
 fantasms, such insociable and point-device companions, ! 
 such Rackers of Orthography. ' | 
 
Si6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 "^itt, — Byron. 
 
 THINK' S thou there is no tyranny but that 
 Of Blood and Chains ? The despotism of Vice — 
 The weakness and the wickedness of Luxury — 
 The negUgence — 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. 
 
 Witt, — Colton. 
 
 HE that has energy enough in his constitution to root 
 out a Vice, should go a httle farther, and try to plant 
 in a Vii'tue in its place, otherwise he will have his labour 
 to I'enew ; 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. 
 
 Witt. — Pope. 
 
 VICE 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 fii'st endure, then pity, then embrace. 
 
 Witt> — Shakespeare. 
 Vice repeated, is like the wand'ring Wind, 
 Blows Dust in others' eyes. 
 
 Witt. — Byron. 
 
 VICE cannot fix, and Virtue cannot change. 
 The once faU'n woman must for ever fall ; 
 Eor Vice must have variety, while Virtue 
 Stands hke the Sun, and all which rolls around 
 Drinks Life, and Light, and Glory from her aspect. 
 
 Witt. — La Mochefoucauld. 
 
 WE do not despise all those who have Vices, but we 
 despise aU those who have not a single Vu'tue. 
 
 Witt. — Colton. 
 
 VICE stings us, even in our pleasures, but Virtue 
 consoles us, even in our^ pains. 
 
 Witt. — Sir P. Sidney. 
 
 IN actions of Life, who seeth not the filthincss of EtU, 
 wanteth a great foil to pei'ceive the beauty of Virtue. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 517 
 
 SFttt. — Juvenal. 
 No man ever arrived suddenly at the stunmit of Vice. 
 Wixt. — CoUon. 
 
 THE Q-ood mate a better bargain, and the Bad a worse, 
 than is usually supposed ; for the rewards of the one, 
 and the punishment of the other, not xmfrequently begin 
 on this side of the grave ; for Vice has more martyrs than 
 Virtue ; and it often happens that men suffer more to Ije 
 lost, than to be saved. 
 
 ?Ftr0. — Shakespeare. 
 
 BUT when we in our Viciousness grow hard, 
 (O 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. 
 
 W\.tt> — Colton. 
 
 THE horrible catastrophes that sometimes liappen to 
 the Vicious are as salutary to others by their warning, 
 as the most briUiant rewards of the Virtuous are by their 
 example. 
 
 ?FtCC. — La Mocliefoucauld. 
 
 IT may be said that the Vices await us in the Journey 
 of Life hke 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. 
 
 J^tce. — CoUon. 
 
 WHEN MandeviUe maintained that Private Vices were 
 Pubhc Benefits he did not calculate the widely 
 destructive influence of bad example. To afiirm that a 
 vicious man is only his own Enemy, is about as wise as to 
 affirm that a virtuous man is only liis own Friend. 
 
 '^itZ, — Shenstone. 
 
 VIETUE 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. 
 Wite, — CoUon. 
 
 THE Martyrs to Vice far exceed the Martyrs to Virtue, 
 both ia endiirance and in number. So bhnded are 
 we by our passions, that we sufi'er more to be damned 
 than to be saved. 
 
51 8 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Vitt. — Burke. 
 JTUE wm catch as well as Vice by contact ; and 
 r the pubhc stock of honest manly principle will daHy 
 accimiulate. We are not too nicely to scrutinize motives 
 as long as action is urreproachable. It is enough (and for 
 a worthy man perhaps too much) to deal out its Infamy 
 to convicted Guilt and declared Apostacy. 
 
 TSist, — CoUon. 
 TJN all civHized communities, there must of necessity 
 X exist a small portion of Society, who are in a great 
 measure independent of pubHc opinion. How then is this 
 seemmg advantage balanced in the great account ? These 
 privileged individuals, surrounded by Parasites, Syco- 
 1 Receivers, too often become the wilhng victims 
 of Self-Delusion, Mattery, or Design. Such persons com- 
 mence by bemg theh- own masters, and finish by being 
 therr own slaves, the automata of Passion, the Hehogaboli 
 of Excess, and the Martyrs of Disease. TJndehghted 
 amidst aU dehght, and joyless amidst all enjoyment, yet 
 sateless m the very lap of satiety, they eventually recive 
 Wie hill measure of the punishment of their EoUy, their 
 Profligacy, or their Vice; nay, they often suffer more than 
 other men, not because they are as amenable as theii- 
 interiors, but because they go greater lengths. Experience 
 speaks to such m vain, and they sink deeper in the Abyss 
 ^mgeT^ P^°P°^<^io^ to tlie height from which they have 
 
 ATSitZ. — CoUon. 
 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, 
 ihe moral cement of aU society is Virtue; it unites and 
 preserves, while Vice separates and destroys. The cood 
 may weU be termed the Salt of the Earth. For where 
 there is no mtegrity, there, can be no confidence; and 
 wliere there is no confidence, there can be no unammity. 
 TSitZ, — Byron. 
 K;ot aU that Heralds rake fi-om coffin'd clay, 
 Nor flond Prose, nor honied Hes of Ehyme, 
 Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a Crime. 
 'Sitt. — Shakesjpeare. 
 Cite sin another doth provoke. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 519 
 
 0tCC. — Pope. 
 But when to Miscliief mortals bend their will, 
 How soon they find fit instruments of III ! 
 
 "Bitt. — Anon. 
 
 MANY a man's Vices have at first been nothing worse 
 than Good Q.uahties run wild. 
 
 ©ttt. — Colton. 
 
 GREAT examples to Virtue, or to Vice, are not so 
 productive of imitation as might at first sight be 
 supposed. The fact is there are himdreds 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 hfe, and in 
 that vast 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. 
 
 ?Ftt«. — Seneca. 
 
 WHY 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 teU his dreams. 
 
 ^FtgilauCC. — From the Latin. 
 The Master's eye makes the Horse fat. 
 ^FtfltlaUtt. — Colton. 
 
 VILLANY 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 
 wUl do nothing for them, have done everything for their 
 Cause ; whereas, the friends of the latter ai-e too apt to 
 expect everything from their Cause, and to do nothing 
 for themselves. 
 
 SFirtuC. — Cotoper. 
 The only amaranthine flow'r on earth * 
 Is Virtue, th' only lasting treasure, Truth. 
 
 SFtrtue. — Toung. 
 His hand the Good Man fastens on the skies. 
 And bids Earth roU, nor feels her idle whirl. 
 
S20 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TRUTE; 
 
 SFtt'ttlC. — Shakesfeare. 
 A Heaet unspotted is not easily daunted. 
 SFlttttC. — Armstrong. 
 
 VIRTUE, (for mere good-nature is a fool,) 
 Is sense and spirit with Humanity : 
 'Tis sometimes angry, and its frown confotmds \ 
 '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 iFortune dreads its name and awful chamis. 
 
 SFtrttte. — Thomson. 
 
 BELIEVE 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. 
 
 5&trttie. — Bryden. 
 A SETTLED Virtue 
 Makes itself a Judge ; and, satisfied within, 
 Smiles at that common enemy, the World. 
 
 Wivtue. — Thomson. 
 
 O ViBTTTE ! Vu'tue ! as thy joys excel, 
 
 So are thy woes transcendent ; the gross world 
 
 Knows not the Bhss or Misery of either. 
 
 Wirtxxe, — Pope. 
 
 WHAT notliing earthly gives, or can destroy, 
 The Soul's calm simshine, and the heart-felt jo}', 
 Is Vu'tue's prize : a better would you fix ? 
 Then give Humihty a coach and six. 
 Justice a conqueror's sword, or Truth a gown, 
 Or pubhc Spirit its great cure, a crown. 
 Weak, foohsh 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 hfe 
 ' 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 ; 
 Eewards, that either would to Vii-tue bring 
 No Joy, or be destructive of the thing. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 521 
 
 fSixtxXZ. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 HOW 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. 
 
 SFtrttic. — Fope. 
 
 BUT sometimes Virtue starves, while Vice is fed ; 
 What then ? Is the reward of Virtue bread ? 
 That, Vice may merit — 'tis the price of ^il ; 
 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. 
 The good man may be weak, be indolent, 
 Nor is liis claim to plenty, but content. 
 But grant liim Riches, yom- demand is o'er ? 
 No — shall the good want Health, the good want Power ? 
 Add Health and Power, and ev'ry 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 scai-ce conceive 
 Q-od gives enough, while he has more to give ; 
 Immense the power, immense were the demand ; 
 Say, at what part of NatTire wiU they stand ? 
 
 ?Ftrttte. — Young. 
 
 VIRTUE, not rolhng 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. 
 
 l&ixiMt. — Young. 
 
 THE man who consecrates Ms horn's 
 By vig'rous effort, and an honest aim, 
 At once he draws the sting of Life and Death ; 
 He walks with Natm-e ; and her paths are Peace. 
 ??trtU0. — Miller. 
 Thou know'st but Httle 
 If thou dost think true Vh-tue is confin'd 
 To climes or systems ; no, it flows spontaneous, 
 Like Life's warm stream throughout the whole Creationj 
 And beats the pulse of ev'ry healthful heart. 
 
522 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 ?Etrtue. — Young. 
 
 AGrOOD 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. 
 
 SFtrtue. — Young. 
 Who does the best his circumstance allows, 
 Does well, acts nobly ; Angels could no more. 
 
 SFtrtttC. — Moore. 
 
 THE plahi 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 Woe, 
 He Httle knows, or cares to know, 
 That Epictetus blam'd that tear. 
 By Heav'n approred, to Virtue dear. 
 
 '^ixtUZ. — Shakespeare. 
 I HELD it ever, 
 Virtue and Knowledge were endowments greater 
 Than Nobleness and Eiches : careless heirs 
 May the two latter darken and expend ; 
 But Immortahty attends the former, 
 Making a man a G-od. 
 
 ^FtrtUC. — Cardinal Richelieu. 
 
 A VIRTUOUS and well-disposed person, hke 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. 
 
 ?FirtU0. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 VANITYj Shame, and above aU Temperament, are often 
 the causes of Courage in men, and of Virtue in 
 women. 
 
 TBixXxit. — Shakespeare. 
 
 VIETUE, that transgresses, is but patched with Sin ; 
 and Sin, that amends, is but patched with Virtue. 
 
OB, THINGS NJSW AND OLD. 523 
 
 SFirtuC. — Seneca. 
 
 VIRTUE, like Fire, turns all things into itself: our 
 Actions and our Friendships are tinctured with it, 
 and whatever it touches becomes amiable. 
 
 Wixbxt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 FROM 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 ; YUeness is so : 
 The property by what it is should go, 
 Not by the Title. 
 
 SFtrttte. — Ch-emlle. 
 
 ONE great reason why Virtue is so little practised, is 
 its being so ill imderstood. 
 
 ?Ftrtug. — Shakespeare. 
 
 O, 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 subject aU 
 To envious and calumniating Time. 
 
 Wixtxit. — Colton. 
 
 THERE are two things which speak as with a voice from 
 heaven, that he that fiJls that eternal throne must 
 be on the side of Virtue, and that which He befriends 
 must finally prosper and prevail. 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, although 
 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, inasmiich as the worst men cannot bring them- 
 selves 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 then* bitterest Enemy. 
 From this inwai-d Esteem for Virtue, which the noblest 
 cherish, and which the basest cannot expel, it follows that 
 Virtue is the only bond of imion on which we can 
 thoroughly depend. 
 
5*4 iXi USTRA TIONS OF TR UTH; 
 
 SFtrtlte. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 IT is with certain Good Qualities as with the Senses ; 
 those who are entirely deprived of them can neithei- 
 appreciate nor comprehend them. 
 
 ?Ftrtue. —Greville. 
 
 The best judges of Pleasui-e are the best judges of Virtue. 
 
 Wivtue. — Sir p. Sidnei/. 
 
 TO be ambitious of true Honour, of the true Glory and 
 Perfection of our nattires, is the very principle and 
 incentive of Virtue; but to be ambitious of titles, of 
 place, of ceremonial respects and civil pageantry, is as 
 vain and httle as the things are which we court. 
 
 Wixtut. — St. JEvremond. 
 
 VIRTUE I love, without atisterity; Pleasiu-e without 
 effeminacy ; and Life without fearing its end. 
 
 5Ftrtite. — Colton. 
 
 THERE is but one pursuit in Life wliich it is in the 
 power of all to follow, and of aU to attain. It is 
 subject to no Disappoiatments, siuce he that perseveres, 
 makes every Difficulty an advancement, and every contest 
 a Victory : and this is the pursuit of Vu'tue. 
 
 Wittnt. — STia/cespeare. 
 
 IN 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. 
 
 Wivtue, — Seneca. 
 
 NO man is born wise ; but Wisdom and Virtue require 
 a tutor ; though we can easily learn to be vicious 
 without a master. 
 
 Wittnz, — Shakespeare. 
 
 StTNDBY blessings hang about Ms Throne, 
 That speak him fuU of Grace. 
 
 Wivtue. — Massinger. 
 
 PRINCES can never more make known their Wisdom 
 Than when they cherish Goodness where they find it j 
 They being Men, not Gods, 
 They can give wealth and titles, but no Virtue ; 
 That is without their power. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 5^5 
 
 S^trtUC. — Shakespeare. 
 When once our Grace we have forgot, 
 Nothing goes right. 
 
 Wixint, — South. 
 
 WERE 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. 
 
 ?FtrtttE. — Socrates. 
 
 AHOESE is not known by his furniture, but qualities ; 
 so men ai'e to be esteemed for Vu'tue, not Wealth. 
 
 5Firtue. — Cicero. 
 
 NO man should be so much taken up in the search of 
 Truth, as thereby to neglect the more necessaiy duties 
 of active life ; for after all is done, it is action only that 
 gives a true Value and commendation to Virtue. 
 
 ?F{rttt0, — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 A TRULY virtuous man is he who prides himself upon 
 nothing. 
 
 K^t ?F0lattle. — Shenstone. 
 
 EXTREME volatile and sprightly tempers seem incon- 
 sistent 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 
 I are made alone by the diiration of an Idea, and are qiiite 
 ! requisite to any strong sensation, either of pleasure or of 
 pain. The Bee to collect honey, or 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. 
 
 ?F0&)^. — Fuller. 
 
 MAKE no Vows to forbear this or that : it shows no 
 great Strength, and makes thee ride behind thyself 
 
 W^KVAi. — Johnson. 
 
 WHERE Necessity ends. Curiosity begins ; and no 
 sooner are we'suppHed with every thing that Nature 
 can demand, than we sit down to contrive artificial 
 appetites. 
 
5^6 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 Wimti. — Colton. 
 
 WE are ruined, not by what we really want, but by 
 what we tMnk we do ; therefore never go abroad in 
 search of your wants ; if they be real wants, they will 
 come home in search of you ; for he that buys what he 
 does not want, will soon want what he cannot buy. 
 
 mtmM, — Anon. 
 
 HOW few are our real Wants ! and how easy it is to 
 satisfy them! Our imaginary ones are boundless 
 and insatiable. 
 
 Wimxti. — Socrates. 
 The fewer our Wants, the nearer we resemble the Q-ods. 
 OTar, — St. Uvremond. 
 
 IN War people judge, for the most part, by the Success, 
 whatever 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. 
 
 amar. — Addison. 
 
 A THOUSAND glorious Actions, that might claim 
 Triumphant laurels, and immortal Fame, 
 Confus'd in crowds of glorious actions lie, 
 And troops of Heroes undistinguish'd die. 
 
 ZKHar. — Joanna JBaillie. 
 
 Wae 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. 
 
 2K9iar. — Shakespeare. 
 
 The Arms are fair, 
 When the intent of bearing them is just. 
 
 aSIar, — Southern. 
 
 DOST 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, tin-own aside, 
 To rust in Peace, and rot in Hospitals. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 527 
 
 WLkv. — Thomson. 
 
 BUT what most show'd the Vanity of Life, 
 Was to behold the nations all on fire, 
 In cruel broils engag'd and deadly strife ; 
 Most christian Kings, inflam'd by black desire, 
 With honourable ruiBans 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 Woe Peace shall theu- force restore. 
 
 W&iav. — Shakespeare. 
 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 Woe, a sore complaint, 
 
 'G-ainst him, whose wrong gives edge unto the swords, 
 
 That makes such waste in brief MortaUty. 
 
 SSIar. — Shakespeare. 
 
 AVICTOEY is twice itself, when the achiever brings 
 home full numbers. 
 
 TMni; — Shakespeare. 
 
 Will you again unknit 
 This churhsh knot of all-abhorred War, 
 And move in that obedient Orb again. 
 Where you did give a fair and natural hght ; 
 And be no more an exhal'd meteor, 
 A Prodigy of Fear, and a portent 
 Of broached mischief, to the unborn times ? 
 
 2KIar. — Burke. 
 
 WAR suspends the rules of moral obligation, and what 
 is long suspended is m danger of being totally 
 abrogated. Civil Wars strike deepest of all into the 
 manners of the people. They vitiate their Pohtics ; they 
 corrupt theu- Morals ; they pervert even the natural taste 
 and reUsh of Equity and Justice. By teaching us to con- 
 sider om- fellow-creatures in an hostile hght, the whole 
 body of oiu- nation becomes gradually less dear to us. 
 The very names of Affection and Kindred, wliich were the 
 bond of Charity wliilst we agreed, become new incentives 
 
5a8 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TB TJTR ; 
 
 to hatred and rage, when the communion of our country 
 is dissolved. 
 
 SHa^te. — Franklin. 
 
 WHAT maintains one Vice, would bring up two 
 children. Remember, many a httle makes a meikle : 
 and farther, beware of httle expenses ; a small Leak will 
 sink a great Ship. 
 
 W^tsSSi^, — Colton. 
 
 IT is far more easy to acquire a Forttme like a knaye, 
 than to expend it like a Grentleman. 
 
 SSEealt^. — Fropertius. 
 
 ALL men now contend for Grold, true Piety being 
 banished from the world. Wealth is now become 
 the sole ground of claim to respect or consideration among 
 men. 
 
 WitnW), — La Bruyere. 
 
 AS Biches and Favour forsake a man, we discover him 
 to be a fool, but nobody could find it out in his 
 Prosperity. 
 
 WimV^, — Hare. 
 
 NOTHING- hides a blemish so completely as Cloth cif 
 Grold. 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. 
 
 mZKV^. — Colton. 
 
 GROSS and vulgar minds will always pay a higher 
 respect to Wealth than to Talent; for Wealth, al- 
 though it be a far less efficient source of power than 
 Talent, happens to be far more intelligible. 
 
 OTealtl^. — Fope. 
 
 WEALTH in the gross is Death, but Life difi'as'd ; 
 As Poison heals, in just proportion us'd : 
 In Heaps, like Ambergris, a Stink it hes. 
 But well dispers'd, is Incense to the Skies. 
 
 OTcalt^. — Sorace. 
 
 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 529 
 
 TOaltf). — La Bruykre. 
 
 IET us not envy some men theii- accumulated Eiclies ; 
 A their burden 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. 
 
 SJIMff). — CoUon. 
 
 IT is only when the Eich are sick that they fully feel 
 the impotence of Wealth. 
 
 WSitKW). — From the Latin. 
 
 THE acquisition of Wealth is a work of great Labour ; 
 its possession, a source of continual Eear ; its loss, of 
 excessive Grief. 
 
 TOalti^. — Colton. 
 
 IN proportion as nations get more con-upt, more Dis- 
 ^ grace will attach to Poverty, and more Eespect to 
 Wealth. 
 
 TOaltl). — Colton. 
 
 THE greatest and the most amiable privilege which tlie 
 Rich enjoy oyer the Poor, is that whicli they exercise 
 the least — the privilege of making them happy. 
 
 TOalt]^. — Butler. 
 
 MEN 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. 
 
 WSitKlt^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 
 THE aged man that coliei-s up his Gold, 
 Is plagued with cramps, and gouts, and painfitl fits : 
 And scarce hath eyes his Treastu-e to behold. 
 But like still-pining Tantalus he sits. 
 And useless bams the Harvest of his wits ; 
 Haying 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 yoimg, 
 Who in their pride do presently abuse it ; 
 Their Father was too weak, and they too strong, 
 To hold their cm-sed-blessed Fortune long. 
 
 M 31 
 
530 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 aSa^alff). — La Brttyhre. 
 
 THERE is nothing keeps longer than a middling For- 
 tune, and nothing melts away sooner than a great 
 one. Poverty treads upon the heels of great and un- 
 expected Riches. 
 
 SJScaIti). — Johnson. 
 
 BUT, scarce ohserv'd, the knowing and the bold 
 Fall in the gen'ral massacre of Gold ; 
 Wide wasting pest ! that rages unconfin'd 
 And crowds with crimes the records of Mankind : 
 For Q-old his sword the hireUng ruffian di-aws, 
 For Gold the hirehng judge distorts the laws ; 
 Wealth heap'd on Wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, 
 The dangers gather as the treasures rise. 
 
 WitKV^, — 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. 
 
 WLtKlfi^, — Cralhe. 
 
 WEALTH 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. 
 
 OTealfi^. — Spenser. 
 
 ALL otherwise (said he) I riches read. 
 And deeme them roote of all Disquietnesse : 
 First got with guile, and then preserv'd with dread; 
 And after spent with Pride and lavishnesse. 
 Leaving behind them Griefe and heavinesse. 
 Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize ; 
 Strife and Debate, Bloodshed and Bitternesse, 
 Outrageous wrong, and heUish covetize 
 That noble hart in great Dishonour doth despize. 
 
 OTcalff). — Qay. 
 
 NOW 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. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 531 
 
 Witm^, — Young. 
 
 CAN Wealth give Happiness ? look round, and see 
 What gay distress ! what splendid misery ! 
 Whatever Fortune lavishly can pom-, 
 The mind annihilates, and calls for more. 
 
 aSKcaltfj. — Sir William Temple. 
 
 LEISURE and SoHtude are the best effect of Riches, 
 because mother of Thought. Both ai*e avoided by 
 most rich men, who seek Company and Business, which 
 are signs of being weary of themselves. 
 
 OTealt^. — Johnson. 
 
 TO purchase Heaven has gold the power ? 
 Can Gold remove the mortal hour ? 
 In hfe can Love be bought with gold ? 
 Ai'e Friendsliip's pleasures to be sold ? 
 No — all that's worth a wish — a thought, 
 Fair Virtue gives unbrib'd, unbought. 
 Cease then on trash thy Hopes to bind. 
 Let nobler views engage thy mind. 
 
 WitKlWy. — Shakespeare. 
 
 If thou art rich, thou art poor ; 
 For, like an ass, whose back with uigots bows. 
 Thou bear'st thy heavy Riches but a joui-ney, 
 And Death unloads thee. 
 
 TOalti^. — Burton. 
 
 WORLDLY Wealth is the Devil's Bait ; and those 
 whose minds feed upon Riches, recede, in general, 
 from real Happiness, m proportion as theu- stores in- 
 crease ; as the Moon when she is fullest is furthest from 
 the Sun. 
 
 TOalti^. Horace. 
 
 WHEN I caution you against becoming a Miser, I do 
 not therefore advise you to become a Prodigal or a 
 Spendthi'ift. 
 
 fflJKcalti). — Johnson. 
 
 WHOSOEVER slaaU look heedfuUy upon those who 
 are eminent for their Riches, will not think theii- 
 condition such as that he should hazard Ms quiet, and 
 much less his Virtue, to obtain it: for all that great 
 Wealth generally gives above a moderate fortune, is more 
 
ilzusthations of thutm,- 
 
 room for the freaks of Caprice, and more privilege for 
 Ignorance and Vice, a quicker succession of Matteries, 
 and a larger circle of Voluptuousness. 
 
 ©Kcalt^. — Shakespeare. 
 
 DESPAIR 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 Lite 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 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 things we have, and aU for want of Wit, 
 Make somethmg nothing by augmentmg it . 
 
 Wielcamt. — Shakespeare. 
 SiE, you are very welcome to our house : 
 It must appear in other ways than words, 
 Therefore I scant this breathing Courtesy. 
 TW)^; auU %tcmSt. — Lavater. 
 
 CALL him wise whose Actions, Words, and Steps are 
 all a clear because to a clear why. 
 
 aSatifOJn. — 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 5 
 Before my face my Handkerchief I spread, 
 To hide the flood of Tears I did— wo?; shed. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 533 
 
 "miiit. — Milton. 
 
 PoE nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her Husband to promote. 
 
 Ef)^ miilt. — Fuller. 
 
 THE good Wife is none of our dainty dames, who love 
 to appear in a variety of suits every day new ; as if a 
 good gown, hke a stratagem in "War, were to be used but 
 once. But om- 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. 
 
 W)t Wiiit. — Shakespeare, 
 
 My noble Pather, 
 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 liitherto 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. 
 
 Wiiit. —G. S. Brummond. 
 'rjlIS not in Hymen's gay propitious hour, 
 X With summer beams and genial breezes blest. 
 That Man a Consort's worth approveth best : 
 'Tis when the skies vrith gloomy Tempests lour, 
 When Cares and Sorrows all their ton-ents pour, 
 She clasps him closer to her hallow'd Breast, 
 Pillows his Head, and lays his Heart to rest ; 
 Drying her cheek from sympathetic show'r. 
 
 W3iiU. — Fope. 
 
 SHE who ne'er answers tiU a Husband cools, 
 Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules ; 
 Charms by accepting, by submittiug sways, 
 Yet has her humour most, when she obeys. 
 
 Wiilt. — Milton. 
 
 Sole partner, and sole part, of all these Joys, 
 Dearer thyself than all. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 WHilt. — Shakespeare. 
 Thott art alone. 
 If tliy 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. 
 
 Klyt OTife. — 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. 
 
 Ki)t SlSHtfe. — Sammond. 
 
 BEAUTY 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 Eeason join'd. 
 
 WSHitt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 A liiGHO? Wife doth make a heavy Husband. 
 Wi)t Wiitt. — Byron. 
 Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's Wife, 
 He would have written Sonnets all his life ? 
 
 miiiZ. — Milton. 
 Thy Likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
 Thy wish exactly to thy Heart's desire. 
 
 W^iU. — Prior. 
 
 SO, if for any sins of ours, 
 Or our forefathers', higher powers, 
 Severe, though just, afflict our Life 
 With that prime ih, a talking Wife ; 
 Tin Death shaU bring the kind rehef, 
 We must be patient, or be deaf. 
 
 Wi^t 2!SItn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 He wanta Wit, that wants resolved WiU. 
 
 OTtll. — Fuller. 
 
 PEESCEIBE no positive laws to thy Will : for thou 
 mayst be forced to-morrow to drink the same Water 
 thou despisest to-day. 
 
OR, TSINGS NEW AND OLD. 535 
 
 212Sin. — Shakespeare. 
 
 VALUE dwells not in particular wUl ; 
 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 pdots 'twixt the dangerous shores 
 Of Win 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 th' remainder viands 
 We do not throw in unrespective place, 
 Because we now are full. 
 
 '^\)t WiiU. — Shakespeare. 
 
 OUR bodies are our gardens : to the wliich our Wills 1 
 are Gardeners : so that if we wUl plant nettles, or | 
 sow lettuce ; set hyssop, and weed up thyme ; supply it I 
 with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many ; either 
 to have it sterUe with Idleness, or manured with In- 
 dustry ; why, the power and corrigible authority of this 
 hes in our Wills. If the balance of our lives had not one 
 scale of Reason to poise another of Sensuahty, the Blood 
 and baseness of our Natures would conduct us to most 
 preposterous conclusions. 
 
 Eije mm. — coUon. 
 
 To 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. 
 
 €l)t WiU. — Hovalis. 
 Chaeactee is a perfectly educated Will. 
 
 Wl)t SlHill. — Shakespeare. 
 The Wni of man is by liis Reason sway'd. 
 
5 3 6 ILL USTEA TIONS OF TB VTR; 
 
 W(^t Wi\SX. — Seneca. 
 
 NO action ■will be considered as blameless, unless tha 
 Will was so, for by the "Will the Act was dictated. 
 
 W^t OTtH. — Dry den. 
 
 LET Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, 
 I have a Soul, that, hke an ample shield, 
 Can take in all, and vei-ge enough for more ; 
 Fate was not mine, nor am I Fate's : 
 Souls know no Conquerors. 
 
 SlSEtH. — Milton. 
 
 GOD made thee perfect, not immutable ; 
 And good he made thee, but to persevere 
 He left it in thy pow'r ; ordained thy will 
 By katuee eeee, not over-rul'd by Fate 
 Inextricable, or strict Necessity. 
 
 ^Xtt OTtll. — Milton. 
 
 Ikgeate, he had of me 
 All he could have ; I made him just and right, 
 SuiBeient 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. 
 
 dTm Seitll. — Milton. 
 
 OUE voluntary service He reqtiires, 
 Not oxrn necessitated ; such with Him 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
 Can Hearts, not free, be try'd whether they serve 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 By Destiny, and can no other choose ? 
 
 iWaStltfl a 'm.xSX. — Osborne. 
 
 WHAT you leave at your Death, let it be without con- 
 troversy, else the Lawyers will be your heirs. 
 
 ©IStntffall^. — Horace. 
 YoiT do not valvie it greatly, because it came by Accident. 
 
 SSKtne. — Milton. 
 
 One sip of this 
 Will bathe the droopiag Spirits in delight 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 
 
1 
 
 OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 537 
 
 WSLim. — Shakespeare. 
 
 GOOD Wine is a good familiar Creature if it be well 
 used. 
 
 tSJHtnter. — Spenser. 
 
 LASTLY came Winter, cloathed all in frize, 
 Ciiatteriag liis teeth for cold that did liim 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. 
 
 WiivAzx. — Thomson. 
 
 FLED is the blasted Verdure of the Fields ; 
 And, shrunk into their Beds, the floweiy Eace 
 Their simny 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. 
 
 aSIt^Om. — ShaTcespeare. 
 To Wisdom he's a Fool that will not yield. 
 
 CJIt'sTJOm. — Anon. 
 
 WISDOM is Alchemy. Else it could not be Wisdom. 
 This is its unfaihng characteristic, that it " finds good 
 in everytliing," that it renders all things more precious. 
 In this respect also does it renew the spirit of Cliild- 
 hood within us : wMle Foohshness hardens our hearts, 
 and narrows our thoughts, it makes us feel a childlike 
 curiosity and a childhke 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 Q-ratification : but in proportion as it widens, 
 our sympathies increase and multiply : and when 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 foi'ther from true Wisdom, than the mask of it assumed 
 by Men of the World, who afiect a cold indifierence about 
 whatever does not belong to their own immediate circle of 
 Interests or PleasiU'es. 
 
538 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 mii^'aam, — Sare. 
 
 THE intellect of the wise is like glass : it admits the 
 Light of Heaven, and reflects it, 
 
 SSIt^ifnm. — From the French. 
 
 THE strongest symptom of Wisdom in man, is his being 
 sensible of his own FoUies. 
 
 amt^tf0m. — Terence. 
 
 WISDOM consists, not in seeing what is directly before 
 us, but in discerning those things which may come 
 to pass. 
 
 WivSiSnxa. — Orymestone. 
 
 WISDOM is the oHtc that springeth from the Heart, 
 bloometh on the Tongue, and beareth fruit in the 
 Actions. 
 
 OTt^lf0m. — From the Latin. 
 
 HE is by no means to be considered wise, who is not 
 wise towards himself. 
 
 amt^ifOm. — CoUon. 
 
 THE Wise Man has his folhes, no less than the Pool ; 
 but it has been said, that herein hes the drfference, — 
 the folhes of the Fool are known to the World, but are 
 hidden from liimself ; the folhes of the Wise are known to 
 himself, but hidden from the World. A harmless hilarity, 
 and a buoyant cheerfulness are not unfi-equent concomi- 
 tants of Genius ; and we are nerer more deceiTcd, than 
 when we mistake Grravity for Greatness, Solemnity for 
 Science, and Pomposity for Erudition. 
 
 TOt^trom. — Boileau. 
 
 THE Wisest Man is generally he who thinks himself the 
 least so. 
 
 mii€isam, — Tillotson. 
 
 TRUE Wisdom is a tiling 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. 
 
 aHt^tr0m. — Gibson. 
 
 IT 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. 
 
r — — 
 
 OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 539 
 
 ®i!a;tS"if0m. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 It is more easy to be wise for others than for ourselves. 
 2!2at^tf0m. — Pliny. 
 No man is at all times wise. 
 
 WSLit. — From the French. 
 
 WIT resembles a Coquette; those who the most 
 eagerly run after it are the least favoured. 
 
 WiiX. — Johnson. 
 
 WIT wUl never make a man rich, but there are places 
 where Riches will always make a Wit. 
 
 mat. — Oshorn. 
 
 LET your Wit rather serve you for a buckler to defend 
 yoiu-self, 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. 
 
 mm, — South. 
 
 As the repute of Wisdom, so that of Wit also, is very 
 casual. Sometimes a lucky saying or a pertinent 
 reply has procm-ed 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 wiU 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 wUl confess that 
 their quickest and most admired conceptions were such as 
 darted into their minds hke sudden flashes of Lightning, 
 they knew not how nor whence ; and not by any certain 
 consequence or dependence of one thought upon another. 
 
 mat. — La Brufere. 
 
 WIT is the god of moments, but Genius is the god of 
 ages. 
 
 SKUtt. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 A MAN does not please long when he has only one 
 species of Wit. 
 
 Wixi. — From the Latin. 
 TT/'ITTICISMS never are agreeable, which are injm-ioua 
 V V to others. 
 
540 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUIH; 
 
 SSKtt. — Zimmerman. 
 
 MANY species of Wit are quite meclianical : these are 
 the favourites of witlings, whose Fame in words 
 scarce outhTes the remembrance of their funeral Ceremo- 
 nies. 
 
 SlSEtt. — Sir Thomas Overhury. 
 
 WIT is !brush-wood, Judgment timber : the one gives 
 the greatest Flame, the other yields the durablest 
 Heat ; and both meeting make the best Fire. 
 
 WLit, — Anon. 
 
 WHAT a d\ill, plodding, tramping, clanking would the 
 ordinary intercourse of Society be without Wit to 
 enhven 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 anything spread cheerfulness so 
 rapidly over a whole party, or an assembly of people, 
 however large. Eeason expands the soul of the philoso- 
 pher; Imagination 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 everyday hfe, I hardly know 
 what power ministers so boiintifiilly to the iimocent plea- 
 sures of mankind. 
 
 Wiamm. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Wb cannot fight for Love, as men may do ; 
 We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. 
 
 OT0man. — Anon. 
 
 WHEN a Maiden is too forward, her admirer deems it 
 time to draw back. 
 
 SlSIOmaiT. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Peopee Deformity seems not in the Fiend 
 So horrid, as in Woman. 
 
 Wiamm, — Fuller. 
 
 IF thou wouldest please the Ladies, thovi must endeavour 
 to make them pleased with themselves. 
 
 SJUflman. — Shakespeare. 
 
 How easy is it for the proper-false 
 
 In Women's waxen hearts to set their fonns ! 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 54-» 
 
 WHaxam. — Colton. 
 
 WOMEN do not Uke a Man the worse for haying 
 many favourites if he deserts them aU for her ; she 
 fancies that she herself has the power of fixing the wan- 
 derer ; that other Women conquer like the Parthians, hut 
 that she herself, like the Eomans, can not only make con- 
 quests, but retain them. 
 
 WLovixm. — From the French. 
 'yn'ITHOTJT "Woman the two extremities of this Life 
 T T would be destitute of succour, and the middle would 
 be devoid of Pleasure. 
 
 WitSmm. — Shakespeare. 
 Women are as Eoses ; whose fair flower, 
 Being once display'd, doth fall that very hour, 
 
 WLamm. — Shakespeare. 
 Men have marble, Women waxen, minds, 
 And therefore are they foi-m'd as marble will ; 
 The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kmds 
 Is form d m them by Force, by Fraud, or SkiE ; 
 Then call them not the authors of their ill. 
 No more than Wax shall be accounted evil, 
 Wlierem is stamp' d the semblance of a Devil. 
 Then- smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain. 
 Lays open aJl the Httle worms that creep ; 
 In Men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain 
 Cave-keeping evils that obscm-ely sleep : 
 Through crystal walls each httle mote will peep : 
 Though men can cover crunes with bold stern looks, 
 Poor Women's faces are then- own faults'-books. 
 No men mveigh against the wither'd flower. 
 But chide rough Whiter that the flower hath kill'd ! 
 Not that devour' d, but that wliich doth devom-. 
 Is worthy blame. O, 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 then- Shame. 
 
 WKamnn. — Shakespeare. 
 
 A WOMAN moved, is like a Fountain troubled, 
 Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of Beauty j 
 And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty 
 Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. 
 
542 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH; 
 
 SK^fOtnan. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WOMEN never have a complete severity of Demeanour 
 except towards those whom they dishke. 
 
 aSKoman. — Colton. 
 
 PLEASURE is to Women what the Sun is to the 
 Flower; if moderately enjoyed, it beautifies, it re- 
 freshes, and it improves; if immoderately, it withers, 
 etiolates, and destroys. 
 
 OToman. — Shahespeare. 
 
 THE hand, that hath made you fair, hath made you 
 good : the Goodness, that is cheap in Beauty, makes 
 Beauty brief in goodness ; but Grrace, being the Soul of 
 your complexion, should keep the body of it ever fair. 
 
 Wimxim. — Colton. 
 
 MOST Females vrill forgive a Liberty, rather than a 
 Shght ; 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. 
 
 a2E0maiT. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I AM ashamed, that Women are so simple 
 To offer War where they should kneel for Peace ; 
 Or seek for Eule, 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 ? 
 
 asioman. — Colton. 
 
 THE Women are satisfied with less than the Men ; and 
 yet, notwithstanding this, they are less easily satisfied. 
 In the first place — Preference and Precedence are indis- 
 pensable articles vnth them, if we would have our favours 
 graciously received ; they look moreover to the mode, the 
 manner, and the address, rather than to the value of the 
 obhgation, 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. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 54? 
 
 SJEoman. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WOMEN can less easily surmount their Coquetry than 
 their Passions. 
 
 Wiavam. — Steele. 
 
 IF we were to form an image of dignity in a Man, we 
 should give him Wisdom and Valom*, as being essential 
 to the character of manhood. In the hke manner, if you 
 describe a right Woman in a laudable sense, she should 
 have gentle Softness, tender Fear, and all those parts of 
 hfe which distinguish her from the other sex ; with some 
 subordination to it, but such an Inferiority that makes 
 her still more lovely. 
 
 SJInman. — La Eochefoucauld. 
 
 THERE can be no regulation in the Minds nor in the 
 Hearts of Women, unless their temperament is in 
 unison with it. 
 
 SHOman. — 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. 
 
 ®Jl0man. — Shakespeare. 
 
 IF two Q-ods 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 ; for the poor rude world 
 Hath not her fellow. 
 
 SKaomait. — CoUon. 
 
 WOMEN that are the least bashful are not unfre- 
 quently the most modest ; and we are never more 
 deceived, than when we would infer any laxity of Prin- 
 ciple, from that freedom of Demeanour which often arises 
 from a total ignorance of Vice, 
 
 SUHoman. — Shakespeare. 
 Where is any Author in the world 
 Teaches such beauty as a Woman's eye ? 
 
 WianxEn. — Otwat/. 
 
 ANQ-ELS were painted fair to look like you : 
 There's in you aU that we beheve of Heav'n — 
 Amazing Brightness, Purity, and Truth, 
 Eternal Joy, and everlasting Peace. 
 
544 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TBUTR; 
 
 Wiamm, — Herder. 
 
 LAST among the characteristics of Woman, is that 
 sweet motherly Love with which Nature has gifted 
 iier ; it is almost independent of cold Reason, and wholly 
 remoTed 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 tlirough her veuis, when the 
 Breast at which he drinks knits him to her. In every 
 uncorrupted nation of the earth, this feehng is the same ; 
 climate, which changes everything 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 toils of Maternal Love. 
 
 S12l0maiT. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Constant you are ; 
 But yet a Woman : and for secrecy. 
 No lady closer ; for I well believe. 
 Thou wUt not utter what thou dost not kuow ; 
 And so far wUl I trust thee, 
 
 2Iiia0man. — Addison. 
 
 NOTHING- 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 attend- 
 ants, Truth, Fidehty, and Constancy, gives the man a 
 property in the person he loves, and consequently endears 
 her to him above all things. 
 
 aSaoman. — Spenser. 
 
 TUTJST not the Treason of those smiling looks, 
 Until ye have their guilefal trains weU trode, 
 For they are like unto golden hooks, 
 That from the fooUsh Fish their bates do hide. 
 
 TOnman. — Qreville. 
 
 IT is perhaps true, that Women generally come into life 
 with higher ideas of Dehcacy than Men ; but I beheve 
 it is true also, that they generally retire from Life with 
 lower. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 54.5 
 
 21SH[0man. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Her Voice was ever soft, 
 Gentle and low ; an excellent thing in Woman. 
 
 aSa0man. — GrevUle. 
 
 I HAVE often thought that the nature of Women was 
 inferior to that of Men in general, but superior in 
 particular. 
 
 SKStiman. — Rousseau. 
 
 THE World is the book of Women. Wliatever know- 
 ledge they may possess is more commonly acquired 
 by Observation than by Beading. 
 
 S12S0man. — Shakespeare. 
 
 MAKE 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 ily with the smoke out at the 
 Chimney. 
 
 212H[0man. — SJiaTcespeare. 
 
 She'll not be hit 
 With Cupid's arrow ; she hath Dian's Tv-it : 
 And, in strong proof of Chastity well ai-m'd, 
 From Love's weak childish bow she lives unhann'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. 
 
 ?123[0ma«. — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 WHAT causes the majority of Women to be so little 
 touched by Fiiendship is, that it is insipid when 
 they have once tasted of Love. 
 
 212l0man. — Shakespeare. 
 
 SHE is of so free, so kiad, so apt, so blessed a Dis- 
 position, she holds it a Vice in her Goodness not to 
 do more than she is requested. 
 
 In any honest suit, she's fram'd as fruitful 
 As the free Elements. 
 
 Wamm» — OrevUle. 
 
 MODESTY ui Woman, say some shrewd Philosophers, 
 is not natural: it is artificial and acquired; but 
 what then, and to what end, is that natural Taste, that 
 dehcate Sensation, that Approbation of it, in Man ? 
 
5+6 ILL USTRA TIONS OF TR UTH ; 
 
 21Sl0man. — Shahespeare. 
 Ail of her, that is out of door most ricli, 
 If she be furnish' d with a mind so rare, 
 She is alone the Arabian bird. 
 
 Wiammx, — Colton. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL Woman, if poor, should use a double 
 circumspection ; for her Beauty will tempt others, 
 her Poverty herself. 
 
 212S0t«ait. — Shakespeare. 
 
 She's a lady 
 So tender of Rebutes, that words are strokes, 
 And strokes Death to her. 
 
 TOflman. — Shahespeare. 
 
 All that Life can rate 
 Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate : 
 Youth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, Yirtue, ail 
 That Happiness and prime can happy call. 
 
 SSInman. — La HochefoucauUl. 
 
 COQUETTES make a merit of being jealous of thcit 
 Lovers, to conceal their being envious of other Women. 
 
 ^iSIntnan. — Shakespeare, 
 
 FOR 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 prov'd herself; 
 And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true. 
 Shall she be placed in my constant Soul. 
 
 SKKOman. — Shakespea/re. 
 
 Eeae, and Niceness, 
 The handmaids of all Women, or more truly, 
 Woman its pretty Self. 
 
 SSHOman, — Shakespeare. 
 
 Kindness in Women, not their beauteous looks. 
 Shall win my Love. 
 
 SKInmaiT. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Dumb jewels often, in then- silent kind, 
 
 I\>wi'e than quick words, do move a Woman's mind. 
 
 SUHoman. — Lavater. 
 She neglects her Heart who studies her Glass. 
 
OB, TSINaS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 SUaomau. — Simonides. 
 
 A MAN cannot possess any thing that is better than a 
 good Woman, nor any tiling that is worse than a bad 
 
 one. 
 
 TOOman. — Shakespeare. 
 If Ladies be but young and fair, 
 They have the Gift to know it. 
 
 aSSoman. — M-om the Italian. 
 
 A BEAUTIFUL Woman by her smiles draws Teai-s 
 from our purse. 
 
 WKamm. — Epictetus. 
 
 WHEN gu'ls are grovm up they begin to be courted 
 and caressed ; then they tliink, that the recommend- 
 ing 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 httle engaging 
 Arts pecuhar to their Sex. In these they place ah. their 
 hopes, as they do all then* Happiness m the success of 
 them. But it is fit they should be given to understand, 
 that there are other attractives much more powerful tlian 
 these ; that the respect 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 
 u-resistible charms, such as wiU make the surest and most 
 lasting Conquests. 
 
 ©Homan. — Butler. 
 
 You wound like Parthians, while you fly, 
 And km with a retreating Eye ; 
 Retire the more, the more we press, 
 To draw us into Ambushes. 
 
 ©Koman. — Goldsmith. 
 
 THE modest Vhgin, the prudent Wife, or the careful 
 Matron, are much more serviceable in hfe, than pet- 
 tieoated Philosophers, blustering Heroines, or virago 
 Queens. Slie who makes her husband 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 mur- 
 der Mankind vdth shafts from their quiver or their eyes. 
 
54-8 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTS; 
 
 WiOram. — -S^^- Fierre. 
 
 THE Christian religion alone contemplates the conjugal 
 nnion in the order of Nature; it is the only rehgion 
 which presents Woman to Man as a companion; every 
 other abandons her to him as a slave. To rehgion alone 
 do European women owe the liberty they enjoy : and trom 
 the hberty of Women that of nations has flowed, accom- 
 panied with the proscription of many inhuman usages 
 diffused over all the other parts of the world, such as 
 Slavery, Seraghos, and Eunuchs. 
 
 SSIOtnan. — Shahespeare. 
 'Tis Beauty, that doth oft make Women proud ; 
 'Tis Virtue, that doth make them most admir d ; 
 'Tis Modesty, that makes them seem divine. 
 
 TOontan. — Shakespeare. 
 A Woman impudent and mannish grown 
 Is not more loath' d than an effeminate Man. 
 
 aSaoman. — Oreville. 
 
 WE are often governed by people not only weaker 
 than ourselves, but even by those whom we think so. 
 
 SKInmatt. — Shakespeare. 
 
 I HAVE those hopes of her good, that her Education 
 promises : her disposition she inherits, which make 
 fair gifts fairer ; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous 
 Qualities, there commendations go with pity, they are 
 Virtues and Traitors too ; in her, they are the better tor 
 their simpleness ; she derives her Honesty, and achieves 
 her Goodness. 
 
 SSaaman. — La ^rut/ere. 
 
 WOMEN, ever in extremes, are always either better or 
 worse than Men. 
 
 IKaman. — Flautus. 
 
 A WOMAN'S true dowry, in my opinion, is Virtue, 
 Modesty, and Desu-es restrained ; not that which is 
 usually so called. 
 
 SSaomatT. — Shahespeare. 
 
 THOtr wilt never get thee a Husband, if thou be so 
 shrewd with thy Tongue. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 549 
 
 aJIfliiTan. — Fope. 
 
 AND yet, believe me, good as well as ill, 
 Woman's at best a Contradiction stUl. 
 Heaven when it strives to polish all it can 
 Its last best work, but fomis a softer man ; 
 Picks Irom each Sex, to make the favourite blest, 
 Your love of Pleasui-e, oiu- desire of Eest. 
 Blends, in exception to all general rvdes, 
 Youi* taste of PoUies, 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 — YoF. 
 
 ffieS0man. — LyttUton. 
 One only care your gentle breasts should move, — 
 Th' important business of your life is Love. 
 
 aHoman. — Shakespeare. 
 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 ? 
 
 Wiammx, — Moore. 
 
 YET was there hght around her brow, 
 A Hohness 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, ev'n while it errs ; 
 As Sunshine, broken in the rill, 
 Though tm-ned astray, is Simshine stUI ! 
 
 Wiamm. — Camplell. 
 
 AND say, without our Hopes, without our Fears, 
 Without the Home that phghted Love endears. 
 Without the Smile fi-om partial Beauty won. 
 Oh ! what were Man ! — a World without a Sun. 
 
 2!2a0mait. — Byron. 
 Soft as the memory of bm-ied Love ! 
 Pure, as the Prayer which Childliood wafts above ; 
 Was she. 
 
550 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTH; 
 
 SSIOman. — Byron. 
 
 SUCH was tliis Daughter of the southern seas, 
 Herself a billow in her energies, 
 To bear the bark of others' happiness, 
 Nor feel a Sorrow till their J oy grew less. 
 
 WSlamm, — Moore. 
 
 RAPTUR'D he quits each dozing Stage, 
 Oh Woman ! for thy lovelier page I 
 Sweet book ! unhke the books of Art, 
 Whose errors are thy fairest part ; 
 In whom, the dear Errata column 
 Is the best page in all the Volume. 
 
 WSiammu — Lord Lyttleton. 
 
 SEEK to be good, but aim not to be great ; 
 A Woman's noblest station is Eetreat ; 
 Her fairest Virtues fly from pubhc sight ; 
 Domestic worth, — that shuns too strong a light. 
 
 2KE0man. — Moore. 
 
 OH 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. 
 
 WSiamm. — Shakespeare. 
 
 She did make defect, perfection, 
 And, breathless, Power bi-eathe forth. — 
 Age cannot wither her, nor Custom stale 
 Her infinite variety. 
 
 aSHfomatt. — ShaJcespeare. 
 'Tis a good hearing, when Children are toward : 
 But a harsh hearing, when Women are froward. 
 
 OTnman. — Lamh. 
 
 THE Fair not always view with favotiring eyes 
 The very virtuous or extremely wise. 
 But, odd it seems, will sometimes rather take 
 Want with the Spendthrift, riot with the Eake. 
 
 ^0mau. — Camfbell. 
 The world was sad ! — the garden was a wild ! 
 The Man, the Hermit, sighed — 'till Woman smil'd. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 
 
 WSLamm, — Byron. 
 
 HER eye's dai-k charm 'twere vain to tell, 
 But gaze on that of the G-azelle, 
 It will assist thy fancy well, 
 As large, as languishingly dart, 
 But Soul beam'd forth in every spark 
 That darted from beneath the hd, 
 Bright as the jewel of Q-iamscliid. 
 Yea, Soul, and should our Prophet say 
 That form was nought but breathing clay, 
 By Alia ! I would answer nay. 
 
 Wiamm, — Shakespeare. 
 She will outstrip all Praise, 
 And make it halt behind her. 
 
 212l0mau. — Moore. 
 
 NEW Eves in all her daughters came, 
 As strong to charm, as weak to err, 
 As sure of Man through praise and blame, 
 Whate'er they brought him, Pi-ide, or Shame, 
 Their stUl unreasoning "Worshipper — 
 And, wheresoe'er they smil'd, the same 
 Enchantress of Soul and Frame, 
 Into whose hands, from first to last, 
 This World, with aU its destinies, 
 Devotedly by Heaven seems cast. 
 To save or damn it, as they please ! 
 
 212a0ntan. — Shakespeare. 
 
 FEOM Women's eyes this doctrine I derive ! 
 They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; 
 They are the Books, the Arts, the Academies, , 
 That show, contain, and nourish all the World ; 
 Else, none at all in aught proves excellent. 
 
 ®ll0man. — Shakespeare. 
 
 0, WHAT a Hell of witchcraft Hes 
 In the small orb of one particular Tear ? 
 But with the inundation of the eyes 
 What rocky Heart to water wiU not wear ? 
 Wliat breast so cold that is not warmed here ? 
 O cleft effect ! cold Modesty, hot Wrath, 
 Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath ! 
 
552 ILLUSTBATIOm OF TRVTH; 
 
 OTantau. — Byron. 
 
 FAIR as the first that fell of Womantind, 
 When on that dread yet lovely Serpent smiling ; 
 Whose image then was stamp' d upon her mind — 
 But once beguil'd — and ever more beguHing. 
 
 OTomait. — Scott. 
 
 0, WOMAN ! in our hours of ease 
 Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
 And variable as the shade 
 By the hght quivering Aspen made ; 
 When pain and anguish wring the brow 
 A ministering Angel thou ! 
 
 212Eflntan. — Shakespeare. 
 
 FIE, 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. 
 
 Wammi. — 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 oiit in a Woman's heariag. 
 When men have shrunk from the ignoble care 
 Of watcliing the last Hour of him who led them. 
 
 OT0man. — Byron. 
 
 What they ask in aught that touches on 
 The Heart, is dearer to their feehngs or 
 Their fancy, than the whole external world. 
 
 SSl0man. — Chapman. 
 
 HE that holds rehgious 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 hke his Goddess, 
 Let him be sure she'll shun him like her Slave. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 553 
 
 SSSDman. — ShaJcespeare. 
 Whose warp'd Looks proclaim 
 What store her Heart is made of. 
 
 ?Rl0matt. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 THOU shalt be punish' d for thus frighting me, 
 Tor I am sick, and capable of Eears ; 
 Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore fall of Fears ; 
 A Widow, husbandless, subject to Tears ; 
 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. 
 
 ©Homan. — Milton. 
 Foe Contemijlation he and Valour foi-m'd. 
 For Softness she and sweet attractive Grace ; 
 He for God only, she for God in hun. 
 
 SSHmnan. — Thomson. 
 
 TO train the Fohage o'er the snowy lawn ; 
 To gmde the pencil, tm-n the tuneful page ; 
 To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, 
 And heighten Natm-e's dainties ; in theu- race 
 To rear their graces into second Life ; 
 To give Society its highest taste ; 
 WeU-ordered Home Man's best dehght to make ; 
 And by submissive Wisdom, modest skiU, 
 With every gentle care-eluding art. 
 To raise the Vu-tues, animate the Bhss, 
 And sweeten all the toils of Human Life :' 
 This be the female Dignity and Praise. 
 
 EJIoman. — £t/ron. 
 Maidens, like Moths, are caught by glare, 
 And Mammon wins his way where Seraphs mignt de«p nr. 
 
 SSHdman. — Shakespeare. 
 
 1 GRANT, I am a Woman ; but withal, 
 A Woman that Lord Brutus took to wife t 
 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 ? 
 
554 ILL TJSTRA TIONS OF TB UTS; 
 
 WS^amm. — Byron. 
 
 OH ! too convincing — dangerously dear — 
 In Woman's eye the unanswerable Tear ! 
 That vreapon of her vreakness she can wield 
 To save, subdue — at once her spear and shield j 
 Avoid it — Virtue ebbs and Wisdom en-s, 
 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 soxxls to man's eternal Foe, 
 And seal their own to spare some Wanton's woe ! 
 
 er. 
 
 TE gentle Ladies ! in whose soveraine Powre 
 Love hath the glory of his Kingdom left, 
 And th' Hearts of men, as your eternall dowro. 
 In yron ehaines 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. 
 
 WLamm. — Lamb. 
 
 STILL Woman draws new pow'r, new empire, stiU 
 From every blessing and from every iU. 
 Vice on her Bosom lulls remorseful Care, 
 And Vu-tue 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. 
 
 OT0man. — Byron. 
 
 BUT she was a soft landscape of mild earth, 
 Where all was Hai-mony, and Calm, and Quiet, 
 Luxuriant, budding ; cheerful withou.t mirth. 
 
 Which if not Happiness, is much more nigh it 
 Than are your mighty passions and so forth, 
 ^ Which some call " The Subhme j" I wish they'd try it : 
 I've seen your stormy Seas and stormy Women, 
 And pity Lovers rather more than Seamen. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 555 
 
 SIKoman. — Pope. 
 
 IN 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. 
 
 aSKDrif^. — Lavater. 
 
 VOLATILITY of Words is Carelessness in actions ; 
 Words are the wings of Actions. 
 
 (SODlf SJaorBjS. — FicMe. 
 
 NOT alone to know, hut to act according to thy Know- 
 ledge, is thy 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 Actions was Existence given thee ; thy Actions, and 
 thy Actions alone, detennine thy worth. 
 
 CIjC SSIOrW. — Johnson. 
 
 THOUGH the world is crowded with scenes of Cala- 
 mity, we look upon the general mass of Wretchedness 
 with very httle regard, and fix otir 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. 
 
 Wi^t aSKorKf. — Shakespeare. 
 
 THAT, Sir, wliich sei-ves and seeks for gain, 
 And follows but for fonn, 
 Will pack, when it begins to rain, 
 And leave thee in the Storm. 
 
 W^t WSiax^. — ShaJcespeare. 
 YoTT have too much respect upon the world : 
 They lose it, that do buy it with much care. 
 
 K^t Simocm. — Fuller. 
 
 TAKE this as a most certain expedient to prevent many 
 Afilictions ; and to be dehvered from them : Meddle 
 as httle 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. 
 
356 ILLUSTBATIONS OF TBUTM; 
 
 Wt^Z S2l0rltf. — Qreville. 
 
 THE Great see the World at one end by Mattery, tlie 
 Little at the other end by Neglect ; the meanness 
 which both discover is tlie same ; but how different, alas ! 
 are the mediums through which it is seen ! 
 
 K'^t WSiaxXtS. — MacTcenzie. 
 
 DELUSIVE ideas are the motives of the greatest part 
 of Mankind, and a heated Imagination the power by 
 which their actions are incited : the World, in the eye of 
 a Philosopher, may be said to be a large Madhouse. 
 
 aSaorRr. — Spenser. 
 
 SO aU the world, and aU in it, I hate, 
 Because it changeth ever to and fi'o, 
 And never standeth in one certain state, 
 But still unstedfast, round about doth go 
 Like a mill-wheel, in midst of Misery, 
 Driven with streams of wretchedness and woe, 
 That dying Hves, and hviag still does die. 
 
 Kl)t SMtfrBJ. — BucUngTiam. 
 
 THE World is made up, for the most part, of fools or 
 knaves, both irreconcilable foes to Trath: the first 
 being slaves to a bhnd Credulity, which we may properly 
 caU Bigotry : the last are too jealous of that power they 
 have usurped over the Folly and Ignorance of the others, 
 which the establishment of the empire of Eeason would 
 destroy. Eor 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 chari- 
 table peaceful World must starve. 
 
 CI)e fflmorlU. — Greville. 
 
 THE World is an excellent Judge in general, but a 
 very bad one in f articular. 
 
 Simarltf. — Fuller. 
 
 THOU must content thyself to see the World so imper- 
 fect 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 Eule of Life, which thoii 
 liast formed in thy own mind. 
 
OB, THINGS NEW AND OLD. SS7 
 
 etc aSaorW. — JByron. 
 
 I HAVE not loved the World, nor tlie "World n\e ; 
 I have not flatter' d its rank breath, nor bow'd 
 To its Idolatries a patient knee, — 
 Nor coin'd my cheeks to smiles, — nor cried aloud 
 In worship of an echo ; in the crovcd 
 They could not deem me one of such ; I stood 
 Among them, but not of them ; in a shroud 
 Of Thoughts wliich were not their Thoughts, and si ill 
 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 faihng : I would also deem 
 
 O'er others' G-riefs that some sincerely grieve ; 
 
 That two, or one, are almost what they seem, — 
 
 That Goodness is no name, and Happiness no dream. 
 
 Wi}t WiatXiS. — Bi/ron. 
 
 TO 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 
 i Of our Infection, till too late and long 
 ! We may deplore and struggle with the coH, 
 In wi-etclied interchange of wi-ong for wong, 
 'Midst a contentious World, striving where none are 
 strong. 
 
 OTtOrnr. — Chesterfield. 
 
 WHEN I reflect on what I liave seen, what I have 
 heard, and what I have done, I can hardly persuade 
 myself that all that 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 di-eams which Opium 
 commonly occasions, and I do by no means desire to 
 repeat the nauseous Dose. 
 
 ILtjP'SlSHlOr^lbtj?' — Shakespeare, 
 My Words fly \ip, my Thoughts remain below : 
 Words, without Thoughts, never to Heaven go. 
 
558 ILLUSTRATIONS OF TRUTH, 
 
 CfjC miaxit — Shakespeare. 
 The Worst is not, 
 So long as we can say, This is the Worst. 
 
 mxanQ nthtX corned Mtsljt. — S. T. Coleridge. 
 
 Wim history of all the World tells us, that ianmoral 
 -i Means will ever intercept good Ends. 
 
 gflUtl^. — Byron. 
 
 NO more— no more — oh ! never more on me 
 _ The freshness of the Heart can fall like devs-, 
 Which out of all th e 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 Elower. 
 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 Om-se : 
 The illusion's gone for ever, and thou art 
 Insensible, I trust, but none the worse. 
 
 ^0UtT). — Anon. 
 
 BLEST hour of Childliood ! then, and then alone, 
 Dance we the revels close round Pleasure's tlirone, 
 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 paii"' 
 Which to matm-er ill doth oft belong, 
 When, mute and cold, we weep departed bhss, 
 And Hope expires on broken Happiness. 
 
 ^0ttt]^. — Hannah More. 
 Oh ! the joy 
 Of young Ideas painted on the mind, 
 In the warm glowing colours Eancy spread^i 
 On Objects not yet known, when all is new. 
 And all is lovely. 
 
OR, THINGS NEW AND OLD. 559 
 
 ^aut^. — JB^ron. 
 A LOTEliT Being, scai'cely fonn'd or moiilded, 
 A Rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. 
 
 ^Ollt^. — Sir Walter Raleigh. 
 
 BESTOW thy Youth so that thou mayst have comfort 
 to remember 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 liis evening, and that thou 
 shalt enjoy it but once, that it never tm-ns again ; use it 
 therefore as the Spiing-tune, which soon departeth, and 
 wherein thou oughtest to plant and sow all provisions for 
 a long and happy Life. 
 
 ^Otlfi). — Byron. 
 
 R'E& Smiles and Tears had pass'd, as light winds pass 
 O'er lakes, to ruffle, not destroy, their Q-lass. 
 
 ^OUt^. — La Bruyhre. 
 
 YOUNG- Persons, on accoimt of their Passion for 
 various amiisenients, are less easily reconciled to 
 Sohtude than persons in more advanced hfe. 
 
 ^0ttt]^. — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 THE chai'ms of Youth at once are seen and past ; 
 And Natm-e says, " They are too sweet to last." 
 So blooms the Kose : and so the blushing Maid. 
 Be gay ; too soon the flowers of Spring will fade. 
 
 ^rittt]^. — Shakespeare. ■ 
 
 HE hath borne himself beyond the promise of his Age ; 
 doing, in the figure of a Lamb, the feats of a Lion ; 
 he hath, indeed, bettei'ed Expectation. 
 
 g0Ut5. — Byron. 
 
 THE love of higher things and better days ; 
 The unbounded Hope, and heavenly Ignorance 
 Of what is called the World, and the World's ways ; 
 
 The moments when we gather from a glance 
 More joy than from all futm-e 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. 
 
56o ILL USTBA TIONS OF TR TJTH . 
 
 gnuti^. — Byron. 
 
 IN earlier Days and calmer Hours, 
 When Heart with Heart dehghts to blend, 
 Where bloom my native valley's bowers, 
 I had — ah ! have I now ? — a Friend ! 
 
 ^autf). — Moore. 
 
 LIGHT, winged Hopes, that come when bid, 
 And rainbow Joys that end in weeping. 
 And Passions, among pm-e thoughts hid. 
 Like serpents under Flow'rets sleeping. 
 
 gfluti). — 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 hfts him from the ground. 
 
 ^0Ut]^ anlf %^t. — Shalcespeare. 
 
 Youth no less becomes 
 The light and careless livery that it wears, 
 Than settled Age his sables, and his weeds, 
 Importing Health and Graveness. 
 
 ^a\X^ antf ^%t. — Cicero. 
 
 AS 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 something of the Youth. 
 
 London : J. and W. Bideb, Printers, 14, Bartholomew Close. 
 
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