The sympathies of love, and friendship dear;
With all the social offsprings of the heart.

At thirty, man suspects himself a fool;
Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan;
At fifty, chides his infamous delay;
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
In all the magnanimity of thought!
Resolves, and re-resolves, then -

dies the same.

The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherits, shall dissolve;
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a rack behind.

RULE XIV. A parenthesis must always be pronounced differently from its relative sentence, and generally in a quicker and lower tone. It generally ends with the same inflection as that which next precedes it; as,

If envious people were to ask themselves, whether they would exchange their situation with the persons énvied, (I mean their minds, passions, notions, as well as their persons, fortunes, and dignities,) I believe the self-love common to human nature, would generally make them prefer their òwn condition.

Ye know how we exhorted, and comforted, and charged every one of you, (as a father does his children,) that you would walk worthy of God, who hath called you into his kingdom and glory.

PARENTHETIC SENTENCES.

Though good sense is not in the number, nor always, it must be owned, in the company of the sciences; yet it is (as the most sensible of poets has justly observed) fairly worth the seven.

Notwithstanding all the care of Cicero, history informs us that Marcus proved a mere blockhead; and that Nature (who, it seems, was even with the son for her prodigality to the father) rendered him incapable of improving by all the rules of eloquence, the precepts of philosophy, his own endeavors, and the most refined conversation in Athens.

That strong, hyperbolical manner which we have long been accustomed to call the Oriental manner of poetry, (because some of the earliest poetical productions came to us from the East,) is, in truth, no more Oriental than Occidental; it is characteristic of an age rather than of a country; and belongs, in some measure, to all nations at that period which first gives rise to music and to song.

As to my own abilities in speaking, (for I shall admit this charge, although experience hath convinced me that what is called the power of eloquence depends for the most part upon the hearers, and that the characters of public speakers are determined by the degree of favor which you vouchsafe to each;) if long practice, I say, hath given me any proficiency in speaking, you have ever found it devoted to my country.

When Socrates' fetters were knocked off, (as was usual to be done on the day that the condemned person was to be executed,) being seated in the midst of his disciples, and laying one of his legs over the other in a very unconcerned posture, he began to rub it where it had been galled by the iron; and whether it was to show the indifference with which he entertained the thoughts of his approaching death, or (after his usual manner) to take every occasion of philosophizing upon some useful subject, he observed the pleasure of that sensation which now arose in those very parts of his leg that just before had been so much pained by the fetters. Upon this he reflected on the nature of pleasure and pain in general, and how constantly they succeeded one another.

Let us (since life can little more supply
Than just to look about us and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man ;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan.

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;
Heaven did a recompense as largely send;
He gave to misery all he had - - a tear;

He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished)

I would not enter on my list of friends

(Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,
Yet wanting sensibility) the man

Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm,

Know, then, that after Lucifer from heaven
(So call him, brighter once amidst the host
Of angels than that star the stars among)
Fell with his flaming legions through the deep
Into his place, and the great Son returned
Victorious with his saints, the omnipotent
Eternal Father from his throne beheld

Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake.

Round he surveys, (and well might where he stood,
So high above the circling canopy

Of night's extended shade,) from eastern point
Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears

Andromeda, far off Atlantic seas

Beyond the horizon; then, from pole to pole.

They anon

With hundreds and with thousands trooping came
Attended: all access was thronged; the gates
And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall,
(Though like a covered field, where champions bold
Wont ride in armed, and at the Soldan's chair
Defied the best of Panim chivalry

To mortal combat, or career with lance,)

Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air
Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings.

RULE XV. The climax* should be read with a gradually increasing swell of the voice on each succeeding member, accompanied with a degree of animation corresponding to the force of the sentiment; as,

Since concord was lost, friendship was lost, fidelity was lost, liberty was lost, all was lost.

There is no enjoyment of property, without a government; no government, without a magistrate; no magistrate, without obedience; no obedience, where every one acts as he pleases.

* A climax is a kind of series which rises, as it were, from one circumstance to another, till it seems impossible to carry the thought to a greater elevation.

SENTENCES ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE CLIMAX.

Consult your whole nature. Consider yourselves, not only as sensitive, but as rational, beings; not only as rational, but social; not only as social, but immortal.

It is pleasant to be virtuous and good, because that is to excel many others: it is pleasant to grow better, because that is to excel ourselves it is pleasant to mortify and subdue our lusts, because that is victory: it is pleasant to command our appetites and passions, and to keep them in due order, within the bounds of reason and religion, because that is empire.

Tully has a very beautiful gradation of thoughts to show how amiable virtue is. We love a virtuous man, says he, who lives in the remotest parts of the earth, though we are altogether out of the reach of his virtue, and can receive from it no manner of benefit; nay, one who died several years ago, raises a secret fondness and benevolence for him in our minds, when we read his story; nay, what is still more, one who has been the enemy of our country, provided his wars were regulated by justice and humanity.

After we have practised good actions a while, they become easy; and when they are easy, we begin to take pleasure in them; and when they please us, we do them frequently; and by frequency of acts, a thing grows into a habit; and a confirmed habit is a second kind of nature; and so far as any thing is natural, so far it is necessary, and we can hardly do otherwise; nay, we do it many times when we do not think of it.

This decency, this grace, this propriety of manners to character, is so essential to princes in particular, that, whenever it is neglected, their virtues lose a great degree of lustre, and their defects acquire much aggravation. Nay, more; by neglecting this decency and this grace, and for want of a sufficient regard to appearances, even their virtues may betray them into failings, their failings into vices, and their vices into habits unworthy of princes and unworthy of men.

As trees and plants necessarily arise from seeds, so are you, Antony, the seed of this most calamitous war. You mourn, O Romans, that three of your armies have been slaughtered-they were slaughtered by Antony: you lament the loss of your most illustrious citizens they were torn from you by Antony: the authority of this order is deeply

wounded

it is wounded by Antony: in short, all the calamities we have ever since beheld (and what calamities have we not beheld?) have been entirely owing to Antony. As Helen was of Troy, so the bane, the misery, the destruction of this state is — Antony.

That's truly great. What think you 'twas set up
The Greek and Roman name in such a lustro,
But doing right in stern despite of nature,
Shutting their ears to all her little cries,

When great, august, and godlike justice called?
At Aulis, one poured out a daughter's life,
And gained more glory than by all his wars;
Another slew a sister in just rage;

A third, the theme of all succeeding times,
Gave to the cruel axe a darling son.
Nay, more, for justice some devote themselves,
As he at Carthage, an immortal name !
Yet there is one step left above them all,
Above their history, above their fable,

A bride a wife upon her nuptial day! Do that,
And tread upon the Greck and Roman glory,

"Tis listening fear and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye, the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud :
And following slower, in explosion fast,

The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes,
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts
And opens wider; shuts and opens, still
Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze:
Follows the loosened aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deepening, mingling; peal on peal
Crushed horrible, convulsing heaven and earth.

Had it pleased Heaven

To try me with affliction: had he rained