Of violent birth, but poor validity;

But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be

What to ourselves in passion we propose,

Which now, like fruits unripe, stick on the tree,

The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. Sh. Ham. III. 2.

PURSUIT.

All things that are,

Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. Sh. M. of Ven. II. 6. What nature has denied fools will pursue,

As apes are ever walking upon two.

QUACKS.

I have heard they are the most lewd impostors,
Made of all terms and shreds; no less beliers
Of great men's favours than their own vile med'cines,
Which they will utter upon monstrous oaths;
Selling that drug for twopence ere they part,

Which they have valued at twelve crowns before.

Out, you impostors,

Young.

Ben Jonson, Volpone.

Quack-salving cheating mountebanks-your skill

Is to make sound men sick, and sick men kill.

Massinger and Decker, Virgin Martyr.

From powerful causes spring the empiric's gains,
Man's love of life, his weakness, and his pains;
These first induce him the vile trash to try,

Then lend his name that other men may buy. Crabbe, Borough.

Void of all honour, avaricious, rash,

The daring tribe compound their boasted trash-
Tincture of syrup, lotion, drop, or pill:
All tempt the sick to trust the lying bill;
There are among them those who cannot read,
And yet they'll buy a patent and succeed;
Will dare to promise dying sufferers aid,
For who, when dead, can threaten or upbraid ?
With cruel avarice still they recommend

More draughts, more syrups, to the journey's end. Ib. Boro'.

QUACKS-continued.

QUACKS-QUARRELS.

491

When quacks, as quacks may by good luck to be sure,
Blunder out, at haphazard, a desperate cure,
In the prints of the day, with due pomp and parade,
Case, patient, and doctor, are amply display'd.
All this is quite just, and no mortal can blame it;
But there's reason to think they might save more lives still,
Did they publish a list of the numbers they kill. Sam. Bishop.

QUAKERS.

Quakers, that like to lanthorns, bear

Their light within them, will not swear;

Their gospel is an accidence,

By which they construe conscience,

And hold no sin so deeply red

As that of breaking Priscian's head. Butler, Hud. 2, 11. 219.
Upright quakers please both man and God. Pope, Dunc.Iv.208.

QUARRELS-see Argument, Conscience, Disputes.
We strive as did the houndès for the bone:

They fought all day, and yet their part was none:
There came a kite, while that they were so wroth,
And bare away the bone betwixt them both.

In a false quarrel there is no true valour.
Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in,

Chaucer.

Sh. M. Ado, v. 1.

Bear 't that the oppos'd may beware of thee. Sh. Ham. 1. 3.

If I can fasten but one cup upon him,
With that which he hath drank to-night already,
He'll be as full of quarrel and offence,
As my young mistress's dog.

So all those false alarms of strife
Between the husband and the wife,
And little quarrels, often prove
To be but new recruits of love;
When those who're always kind or coy,
In time must either tire or cloy.

The've always been at daggers-drawing,
And one another clapper-clawing.

They who in quarrels interpose,
Must often wipe bloody nose.

a

Sh. Oth. 11. 3.

Butler, Hud. 3, 1. 293.

Butler, Hud. II. 2.

Gay, Fable 34.

The quarrel is a very pretty quarrel as it stands.

Sheridan, Rivals, IV. 3.

492

QUERULOUSNESS-QUOTATION, QUOTING.

QUERULOUSNESS.

Oh! we are querulous creatures! little less
Than all things can suffice to make us happy;
And little more than nothing is enough
To discontent us.

QUICKNESS.

With too much quickness ever to be taught;
With too much thinking to have common thought.

To John I owed great obligation,
But John, unhappily, thought fit
To publish it to all the nation,

Coleridge.

Pope, M. E. 11. 97.

Byron, Ch. H. III. 42.

Sure John and I are more than quit. Martial, v. 52. (Prior).

QUOTATION, QUOTING.

The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. Sh. M. of Ven. 1.3.

'Twas counted learning once and wit

To void but what some author writ;

And when men understood by rote

By as implicit sense to quote. Butler, Sat. upon Plagiaries.

Why should those who pick and choose

The best of all the best compose,

And join it by Mosaic art,

In graceful order, part to part,

To make the whole in beauty suit,

Not merit as complete repute

As those who, with less art and pains,

Can do it with their native brains. Butler, Sat. on Plagiaries.

For all he did he had a reason,

For all he said a word in season ;

And ready ever was to quote

Authorities for what he wrote.

He ranged his troops and preached up patience,

Backed his opinions with quotations.

Index-learning turns no student pale,

Butler.

Prior.

Yet holds the eel of Science by the tail. Pope, Dunciad, 1. 280.

Some for renown on scraps of learning dote,

And think they grow immortal as they quote.
To patch-work learn'd quotations are allied,

But strive to make our poverty our pride.

Young, Love of Fame, 1, 89.

RABBLE--RAINBOW.

RABBLE-see Mob.

For as a fly that goes to bed,

Rests with his tail above his head,

493

So, in this mongrel state of ours,

The rabble are the supreme powers. Butler, Hud. 3, 11. 1609

The rabble all alive,

From tippling benches, cellars, stalls, and sties,

Swarm in the streets.

RAGE-see Anger, Passion.

Cowper, Task, vI. 694.

Rage is the shortest passion of our souls.

Like narrow brooks, that rise with sudden showers,

It swells in haste, and falls again as soon. Denham, Iphigenia.

RAIN.

Careful observers may foretell the hour

(By sure prognostics) when to dread a shower
While rain depends, the pensive cat gives o'er
Her frolics, and pursues her tail no more.
If you be wise, then go not far to dine;
You'll spend in coach-hire more than save in wine.
A coming shower your shooting corns presage;
Old aches will throb, your hollow tooth will rage.
The clouds consign their treasures to the fields,
And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool
Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow,

Broome.

In large effusion, o'er the freshen'd world. Thomson, Spr. 173.

From floating clouds of pearly hue

Fell in light drops the recent shower,

That hung like gems of morning dew

On every tree and every flower.

RAINBOW.

Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne'er

Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres, and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth!

Roscoe.

Sh. Temp. IV. 1.

The Lord of nature form'd the show'ry bow,
Turn'd its gay arch, and bade its colour glow;
Its radiant circle compasses the skies,
And sweetly the rich tinctures faint and rise;
It bids the horrors of the storm to cease,
Adorns the clouds, and makes the tempest peace.

Broome.

RAINBOW-continued.

Meantime, refracted from yon eastern cloud,
Bestriding earth, the grand ethereal bow
Shoots up immense; and every hue unfolds
In fair proportion, running from the red
To where the violet fades into the sky. Thomson, Spring, 202.
Born of the shower, and colour'd by the sun;
Which spans the heavens when April skies are bright. Ib.
'Tis sweet to listen as the night winds creep
From leaf to leaf: 'tis sweet to view on high
The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. Byron, D. J. 1.122.
Now overhead a rainbow, bursting through
The scattering clouds, shone, spanning the dark sea
Resting its bright base on the quivering blue;
And all within its arch appear'd to be
Clearer than that without, and its wide hue
Wax'd broad and waving, like a banner free.
It changed, of course; a heavenly cameleon,
The airy child of vapour and the sun,
Brought forth in purple, cradled in vermilion,
Baptized in molten gold, and swathed in dun,
Glittering like crescents o'er a Turk's pavilion,
And blending every colour into one.
What skilful limner e'er could choose

Byron. D. J. II. 91.

To dip his brush in dyes of heaven.

To paint the rainbow's various hues,
Unless to mortal it were given

Scott, Marmion, VI. 5.

Coleridge, Two Faults, 5.

That gracious thing made up of tears and light.

Triumphant arch, that fill'st the sky,

When storms prepare to part,

I ask not proud Philosophy

To tell me what thou art.

Still seem, as to my childhood's sight,

A midway station given

For happy spirits to alight,

Betwixt the earth and heaven! Campbell, Poem to the Rainbow.

My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old,

Or let me die.

The child is father of the man;

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety. Wordsworth, on CheZdhood.