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Are mortised and adjoined; which when it falls,
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone
Did the king, sigh, but with a general groan.
Shakspeare.

CCLXXXV.

Friendship is compounded of all those soft ingredients which can insinuate themselves and slide insensibly into the nature and temper of men of the most different constitutions, as well as of those strong and active spirits which can make their way into perverse and obstinate dispositions; and because discretion is always predominant in it, it works and prevails least upon fools. Wicked men are often reformed by it, weak men seldom.-Clarendon.

CCLXXXVII.

Drive me, O drive me from that traitor, man!
So I might 'scape that monster, let me dwell
In lion's haunts, or in some tyger's den,
Place me on some steep, craggy, ruin'd rock,
That bellies out, just dropping in the ocean:
Bury me in the hollow of its womb:

Where, starving on, my cold and flinty bed,
I may from far, with giddy apprehension,
See infinite fathoms down the rumbling deep;
Yet not e'en there, in that vast whirl of death,
Can there be found so terrible a ruin

As man! false man! smiling destructive man!

CCLXXXVII.

Nat. Lee

A man would be apt to think, in this laughing town, that it were impossible a thing so exploded as speaking hard words should be practised by any one that had ever seen good company; but, as, if there was a standard in our minds as well as bodies, you see very many just where they were twenty years ago, and more they cannot, will not arrive at.-Tatler..

CCLXXXIX.

He that cannot refrain from much speaking, is like a city without walls, and less pains in the world a man cannot take, than to hold his tongue: therefore if thou observest this rule in all assemblies, thou shalt seldom err: restrain thy choler, hearken much, and speak little; for the tongue is the instrument of the greatest good and greatest evil that is done in the world.-Sir W. Raleigh-to his son.

CCXC.

Beware of flattery 'tis a flowry weed
Which oft offends the very idol vice,
Whose shrine it would perfume.

CCXCI.

Fenton.

Sincerity is an openess of heart; 'tis found in a very few people, and that which we see commonly is not it, but a subtle dissimulation, to gain the confidence of others.-Charron.

CCXCII.

The city lies,

And like a mist beneath a hill doth rise,

Whose state and wealth, the bus'ness and the crowd,
Seems at this distance but a darker cloud,

And is, to him who rightly things esteems,
No other in effect than what it seems;

Where, with like haste, through several ways they run,
Some to undo, and some to be undone;

While luxury and wealth, like war and peace,
Are each the others ruin and increase;
As rivers lost in seas, some secret vein
Thence reconveys, there to be lost again.

Cooper's Hill-Denham.

CCXCIII.

There is no art or science that is too difficult for industry to attain to; it is the gift of tongues, and makes a man understood and valued in all countries, and by all nations; it is the philosopher's stone, that turns all me

tals, and even stones, into gold, and suffers no want to break into its dwellings; it is the north-west passage, that brings the merchan't ships as soon to him as he can desire: in a word it conquers all enemies, and makes fortune itself pay contribution.-Clarendon.

CCXCIV.

A French woman is a perfect architect in dress; she never, with Gothic ignorance, mixes the orders; she never tricks out a squabby Doric shape with Corinthian finery, or to speak without metaphor, she conforms to general fashion, only when it happens not to be repug; nant to private beauty.-Goldsmith.

CCXCV.

Give me that man

That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's sore, ay my heart of heart.

CCXCVI.

Shakspeare.

The figures which the ancient mythologists and poets put upon love, in their writings, are very instructive. Love is a beauteous blind child, adorned with a quiver and a bow, which he plays with, and shoots around him without design or direction; to intimate to us, that the person beloved has no intention to give us the aneties we meet with, but that the beauties of a worthy of ject are like the charms of a lovely infant; they cannot but attract your concern and fondness, though the child so regarded is as insensible of the value you put upon it, as it is that it deserves your benevolence.-Tatler.

CCXCVII.

Tho' fools spurn Hymen's gentle powers,
We, who improve his golden hours,
By sweet experience know

That marriage, rightly understood,
Gives to the tender and the good,

A paradise below.

Cotton,

CCXCVIII.

The invention of printing has not, perhaps, multiplied books, but only the copies of them; and if we believe there were six hundred thousand in the library of Ptolemy, we shall hardly pretend to equal it by any of ours; not, perhaps, by all put together; I mean so many originals, that have lived any time, and thereby given testimony of their having been thought worth preserving: for the scribblers are infinite, that, like mushrooms or flies, are born and die in a small circle of time; whereas, books, like proverbs, receive their chief value from the stamp and esteem of ages through which they have passed. Sir W. Temple.

CCXCIX.

It is a common error, and the greater and more mischievous for being so common, to believe that repentance best becomes and most concerns dying men. Indeed, what is necessary every hour of our life is ne cessary in the hour of death too, and as long as he lives he will have need of repentance, and therefore it is necessary in the hour of death too; but he who hath constantly exercised himself in it in his health and vigour, will do it with less pain in his sickness and weakness; and he who hath practised it all his life, will do it with more ease and less perplexity in the hour of his death: as he who hath diligently cast up every page of a large account, will better be able to state the whole sum upon a little warning in the last leaf, than he can do who must look over every one of them.-Clarendon.

CCC.

The greatest part of poets have apparelled their poetical inventions in that numerous kind of writings, which is called verse. Indeed, but apparelled verse, being but an ornament, and no cause to poetry, since there have been many most excellent poets that never versified, and now swarm many versifiers that need never answer to the name of poets-Sir P. Sidney's Defence of Poesy.

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CCCI.

The gain of lying is nothing else but not to be trusted of any, nor to be believed when we say the truth.-Sir W. Raleigh.

CCCII.

Beasts should do

Homage to man, but man shall wait on you:
You are of comelier sight, of daintier touch,
A tender flesh, and colour bright, and such
As Parians see in marble; skin more fair,
More glorious head, and far more glorious hair;
Eyes full of grace and quickness; purer roses
Blush in your cheeks, a milder white composes
Your stately fronts; your breath, more sweet than his,
Breathes spice, and nectar drops at every kiss.

*

-Perfect creatures, if distraction rise

Against your sex, dispute but with your eyes,
Your hair, your lip, your brow, there will be sent
So subtle and so strong an argument,

Will teach the stoic his affections too,
And call the cynic from his tub to woo.

The Praise of Women-Randolph.

CCCIII.

Though invention be the mother of poetry, yet this child is, like all others, born naked, anci must be nourished with care, clothed with exactness and elegance, educated with industry, instructed with art, improved by application, corrected with severity, and accomplished with labour and with time, before it arrive at any great perfection or growth, it is certain that no composition requires so many several ingredients, or of more different sorts, than this: not that to excel in any qualities, there are necessary so many gifts of nature, and so many improvements of learning and of art: for there must be a universal genius, of great compass, as well as great elevation; there must be a sprightly imagination or fancy, fertile in a thousand productions, ranging over infinite ground, piercing into every corner,

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