POPULARITY, POPULACE.

465

POPULARITY, POPULACE-continued.

Ev'ry wretch pining and pale before,
Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks;
A largess universal, like the sun,

His lib'ral eye doth give to every one,

Thawing cold fear.

Sh. Hen. v. Chorus

O, he sits high in all the people's hearts :
And that, which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchymy,
Will change to virtue, and to worthiness.

Your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

Sh. Jul. C. 1. 3,

Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?

With every minute you do change a mind;

And call him noble, that was now your hate,

Him vile, that was your garland.

Sh. Coriol. 1. 1.

You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate

As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men

That rises upmost, when the nation boils. Dryden, Don. Seb.

Bare-headed, popularly low he bow'd,

And paid the salutations of the crowd. Ib. Pal. & Ar. 111.1965.

I have no taste

Of popular applause: the noisy praise

Of giddy crowds, as changeable as winds,
Still vehement, and still without a cause;
Servants to chance, and blowing in the tide
Of swoln success; but, veering with the ebb,

It leaves the channel dry.

Dryden, Spanish Friar.

Almighty crowd! thou shortenest all dispute,
Power is thy essence, wit thy attribute!
Nor faith nor reason make thee at a stay,

Thou leapest o'er all eternal truths in thy Pindaric way.

Dryden, Medal, 91.

466

POPULARITY, POPULACE-PORTRAITS.

POPULARITY, POPULACE-continued.

His joy concealed, he sets himself to show,

On each side bowing popularly low:

His looks, his gestures, and his words he frames,
And with familiar ease repeats their names,

Thus formed by nature, furnished out with arts,

He glides unfelt into their secret hearts.

Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel, 1. 688.

Addison, Cato.

Curse on his virtues! they've undone his country.

Such popular humanity is treason!

He who can listen pleas'd to such applause,

Buys at a dearer rate than I dare purchase,

And pays for idle air with sense and virtue. Mallett, Mustapha.

O breath of public praise,

Short-liv'd and vain! oft gain'd without desert,
As often lost, unmerited: composed

But of extremes.

Havard, Regulus,

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 all his canvas set, and inexpert
And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power?

Cowper, Task, II. 481.

Some shout him, and some hang upon his car

To gaze in 's eyes and bless him. Maidens wave
Their 'kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy;
While others not so satisfied, unhorse

The gilded equipage, and turning loose

His steeds, usurp a place they well deserve. Ib. Task, v1. 698.

PORTRAITS-see Beauty.

But her eyes

How could he see to do them? having made one,

Methinks, it should have power to steal both his,

And leave itself unfurnish'd.

What find I here P

Sh. M. of Ven. III. 2.

Sh. M. of V. III. 2.

Fair Portia's counterfeit? What demi-god

Hath come so near creation P

Good heaven! that sots and knaves should be so vain,

To wish their vile resemblance may remain!

And stand recorded, at their own request,

To future days a libel or a jest!

Dryden.

POSSESSION.

POSSESSION--POVERTY.

467

What we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it; but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours.

Women are angels, wooing:

Sh. M. Ado. Iv. 1.

Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing. Sh. Troil. 1. 2.
The sweets we wish for, turn to loathed sours,
Even in the moment that we call them ours. Sh.R. of Luc. 124.

Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter;

In sleep, a king; but waking, no such matter.

Those possessions short-lived are,

Into the which we come by war.

POSSIBILITY.

Sh. Son. 87.

Herrick, Hesp. 128.

All may do, what has by man been done. Young, N. T. vI. 606.

POVERTY-see Apparel, Charity, Compassion, Death.

His raw-bone cheeks through penury ary and pine

Were shrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine.

Spenser, Fairy Queen, 1, Ix. 35.

Well whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And say, there is no sin, but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say, there is no vice but beggary.
My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die! famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression stareth in thine eyes,
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,

Sh. K. John, II. 2.

Sh. Rom. v. 1.

The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. Sh. Rom. v.1.

A hungry lean-faced villain,

A mere anatomy, a mountebank,

A thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller;

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,

A living dead man.

Sh. Com. Er. v. 1.

Herrick, Aph. 129.

Want is a bitter and a hateful good,

Because its virtues are not understood;

Yet many things, impossible to thought,

Have been by need to full perfection brought.

Dryden, Wife of Bath, 473.

POVERTY-continued.

If we from wealth to poverty descend,

Want gives to know the flatterer from the friend.

Dryden, Wife of Bath, 485.

Want whets the wit, 'tis true; but wit not blest
With fortune's aid makes beggars at the best:
Wit is not fed, but sharpen'd with applause;

For wealth is solid food, but wit is hungry sauce.

Dryden, Love Triumphant.

O, blissful poverty!

Nature, too partial, to thy lot assigns
Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace-

Her real goods and only mocks the great

With empty pageantries.

Think, too, in what a woeful plight

The wretch must be, whose pocket's light;

Are not his hours by want depress'd?
Penurious cares corrode his breast;

Without respect, or love, or friends,

His solitary day descends.

Fenton, Marianne.

Gay.

This mournful truth is everywhere confessed,
Slow rises worth by poverty depressed. Johnson, London, 176.

But poverty, with most who whimper forth
Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe,

Th' effect of laziness, or sottish waste. Cowper, Task, IV. 429.

Where penury is felt the thought is chain'd,
And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few. Ib. Task, Iv. 397.

Where mice with music charm, and vermin crawl,

And snails with silver traces deck the wall.

Most wretched men

Are cradled into poverty by wrong.

Peter Pindar.

They learn in suffering what they teach in song.

Shelley, Julian and Madallo.

Few save the poor feel for the poor;

The rich know not how hard

It is to be of needful rest

And needful food debarr'd:

They know not of the scanty meal,

With small pale faces round;
No fire upon the cold damp hearth

When snow is on the ground.

L. E. Landon.

POVERTY-continued.

Aye! idleness! the rich folks never fail
To find some reason why the poor deserve
Their miseries!

Poor once and poor for ever, Nat, I fear;

None but the rich get place and pension here.

POWER-see Mercy.

Southey.

Martial, v. 81. (Halhed).

Sovereign power is too depressed or high, When kings are forced to sell, or crowds to buy.

Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel, 1. 896.

What can power give more than food and drink,
To live at ease, and not be bound to think? Dryden, Medal,235.
Calm and serene he drives the furious blast,

And, pleas'd th' Almighty's orders to perform,

Rides on the whirlwind and directs the storm.

Power, like a desolating pestilence

Addison, Campaign, 291.

Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,

Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame

A mechanized automaton.

The good old rule

Sufficeth them, the simple plan,

Shelley, Queen Mab, 111.212.

That they should take who have the power,

And they should keep who can. Wordsworth, Rob Roy's Grave.

Power! 'tis the favourite attribute of gods,

Who look with smiles on men that can aspire

To copy them.

PRAISE-see Flattery.

Who would ever care to do brave deed,

Or strive in virtue others to excel,

B. Martyn, Timoleon.

If none would yield him his deserved meed,

Due praise, that is the spur of doing well?

For if good were not praised more than ill,

None would choose goodness of his own free will.

Spenser, Tears of the Muses.

Praising what is lost,

Makes the remembrance dear.

Who will believe my verse in time to come

If it were fill'd with your most high deserts.

Sh. All's W. v. 3.

Sh. Son. 17.

To things of sale a seller's praise belong. Sh. Love's L. IV. 3.

The worthiness of praise distains his worth,

If that the praised himself bring the praise forth. Sh. Troil.1.3.