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the wrong; which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser to day than he was yesterday.

Wherever 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.

Flowers of rhetoric in sermons or serious discourses, are like the blue and red flowers in corn, pleasing to those who come only for amusement, but prejudicial to him who would reap the profit.

It often happens that those are the best people, whose characters have been most injured by Randerers : as we usua ally find that to be the sweetest fruit, which the birds have been pecking at.

The eye of a critic is often like a microscope, made fo very fine and nice, that it discovers the atoms, grains, and minutest articles, without ever comprehending the whole, comparing the parts, or seeing all at once the harmony.

Men's zeal for religion is much of the same kind as that which they shew for a foot-ball: whenever it is contested for, every one is ready to venture their lives and limbs in the dispute ; but when that is once at an end, it is no more thought on, but sleeps in oblivion, buried in rubbish, which no one thinks it worth his pains to rake into, much less to remove.

Honour is but a fictious kind of honefty; a mean, bat a necessary substitute for it, in societies who have none: it is a fort of paper-credit,with which men are obliged to trade, who are deficient in the sterling cash of true morality and religion.

Persons of great delicacy should know the certainty of the following truth : there are abundance of cases which occasion suspense, in which whatever they determine they will repent of their determination, and this through a pro3

pensity

pensity of human nature to fancy happiness in those schemes which it does not pursue.

The chief advantage that ancient writers can boast over modern ones seems owing to fimplicity. Every noble truth and sentiment was expressed by the former in a natural man

in word and phrase simple, perfpicuous, and incapable of improvement. What then remained for later writers, but affectation, witticism, and conceit?

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WH

HAT a piece of work is man! how noble in rea.

fon! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel ! in apprehenfion how like a God !

IF to do, were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. He is a good divine that follows his own instructi. ons: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues we write in water.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.

The sense of death is most in apprehenfion; And the poor beetle that we tread upon,

In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great,
As when a giant dies.

How far the little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than in use: keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key: be check'd for silence,
But never talk'd for speech.

The cloud capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The folemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherits, shall diffolve ;
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a wreck behind! we are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, When our deep plots do fail; and that should teach us, There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.

The Poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven ; And as imagination bodies forth The form of things unknown, the Poet's pen Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing, A local habitation and a name.

Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do,

Not

Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'à,
But to fine issues : nor nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, the determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use.

What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ?
Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just :
And he but naked (tho'lock'd up in steel)
Whofe conscience with injustice is corrupted.

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OH, world, thy flippery furns! Friends now fall sworn,..

Whose. double bofoms seem to wear one heart,
Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise
Are still together; who twine (as 'twore) in love
Inseparable ; Mall within this hour,
On a diffenfion of a doit, break out
To bittereft enmity. So felleft foes,
Whose paflions and whose plots have broke their sleep,
To take the one the other, by some chance,
Some trick not worth an egg, fall grow dear friends,
And interjoin their iffues.

So it falls out,
That what we have we prize not to the worth,
Whiles we enjoy it; but being lack'd and loft,
Why then we wreak the value ; 'then we find

C

The

The virtue that possession would not shew us
Whilft it was ours.

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Cowards die many times before their 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 Mould fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come, when it will come.

There is some foul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out,
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers :
Which is both healthful, and good husbandry,
Besides, they are our outward consciences,
And preachers to us all; admonishing,
That we fhould dress us fairly for our end.

O MOMENTARY grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hope in th' air of men's fair looks,
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.

Who shall

go

about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none prefume
To wear an undeserved dignity.
O that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not derived corruptly, that clear honour
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!

How

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