And blood applied to greatness, is alone
Inherited, not purchased, nor our own :
Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth
Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.

Quarles.

240. AUTHOR. Fame of the

237. ATTAINMENT. Mockery of

There are hopes Promising well ; and love-touch'd dreams for some ; And passions, many a wild one ; and fair schemes For gold and pleasure-yet will only this Balk not the soul-Ambition only gives, Even of bitterness, a beaker full ! Friendship is but a slow-awaking dream, Troubled at best-Love is a lamp unseen, Burning to waste, or, if its light is found, Nursed for an idle hour, then idly brokenGain is a grovelling care, and Folly tires, And Quiet is a hunger never fedAnd from Love's very bosom, and from Gain, Or Folly, or a Friend, or from Repose, – From all but keen Ambition-will the soul Snatch the first moment of forgetfulness To wander like a restless child away. Oh, if there were not better hopes than these-Were there no palm beyond a feverish fameIf the proud wealth flung back upon the heart Must canker in its coffer-if the links Falsehood hath broken will unite no moreIf the deep-yearning love, that hath not found Its like in the cold world, must waste in tearsIf truth, and fervour, must return And die of their own fulness—if beyond The grave there is no heaven in whose wide air The spirit may find room, and in the love Of whose bright habitants the lavish heart May spend itself-what thrice-mock'd fools are we !

N. P. Willis.

He hath built up, glorious architect, a monument

more durable than brass ; His children's children shall talk of him in love, and

teach their sons his honour; His dignity hath set him among princes; the

universe is debtor to his worth ; His privilege is blessing for ever, his happiness

shineth now, For he standeth of that grand Election, each man

one among a thousand, Whose sound is gone out unto all the lands, and

their words to the end of the world. -- Tupper.

241. AUTHORS. Rules for

To write what may securely stand the test
Of being well read over thrice at least,
Compare each phrase, examine ev'ry line,
Weigh ev'ry word, and ev'ry thought refine.

Pope.
Make the proper use of each extreme,
And write with fury, but correct with phlegm.

Roscommon.

242. AUTHORS: their vanity.

238. ATTRACTION : reversed.

CHAINS of my heart, avaunt, I say ;

I will arise, and in the strength of love Pursue the bright track, ere it fade away,

My Saviour's pathway to His home above. Sure, when I reach the point where earth

Melts into nothing from the uncumbered sight, Heaven will o'ercome the attraction of my birth,

And I shall sink in yonder sea of light. — Keble.

Ir addeth immortality to dying facts, that are ready

to vanish away, Embalming as in amber the poor insects of an hour ; Shedding upon stocks and stones the tender light of

interest, And illuming dark places of the earth with radiance

of classic lustre. It hath power to make past things present, and

availeth for the present in the future, Delivering thoughts, and words, and deeds, from the

outer darkness of oblivion.—M. F. Tupper.

239. ATTRACTIONS. Earthly FAREWELL, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles; Farewell, ye honour'd rags, ye glorious bubbles: Fame's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay ; Honour, the darling but of one short day ; Beauty, the idol, but a damask'd skin ; State, but a golden prison to live in, And tortore free-born minds; embroider'd trains, Merely but pageants for proud-swelling veins ;

244. AUTHORITY. A little brief

Isabel.

OH! it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous

The year's in the wane ;

There is nothing adorning;
The night has no eve,

And the day has no morning;
Cold winter gives warning.

To use it like a giant.
Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet;
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder,-
Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven!
Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak,
Than the soft myrtle : but man, proud man !
Drest in a little brief authority,-
Most ignorant of what he's most assured,
His glassy essence, --like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep : who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal. --Shakespeare.

The rivers run chill ;

The red sun is sinking ;
And I am growing old,

And life is fast shrinking;
Here's enough for sad thinking !

Thomas Hood.

249. AVARICE: of the Aged.

245. AUTHORITY: how it is acquired.

Not from grey hairs authority doth flow,
Nor from bald heads, nor from a wrinkled brow ;
But our past life, when virtuously spent,
Must to our age those happy fruits present.

Denham.

Of age's avarice I cannot see
What colour, ground, or reason there should be ;
Is it not folly, when the way we ride
Is short, for a long voyage to provide ?
To avarice some title youth may own,
To reap in autumn, what a spring had sown;
And with the providence of bees or ants,
Prevent with summer's plenty winter's wants.
But age scarce sows, till death stands by to reap,
And to a stranger's hand transfers the heap :
Afraid to be so once, she's always poor,
And to avoid a mischief, makes it sure.
Such madness, as for fear of death to die,
As to be poor for fear of poverty.-Denham.

246. AUTHORITY. Intoxication of

250. AVARICE. Disappointed

AUTHORITY intoxicates,
And makes mere sots of magistrates ;
The fumes of it invade the brain,
And make men giddy, proud, and vain ;
By this the fool commands the wise,
The noble with the base complies,
The sot assumes the rule of wit,
And cowards make the base submit.

Samuel Butler.

"I GIVE and I devise' (old Euclio said, And sigh'd) 'my lands and tenements to Ned.' Your money, sir !

—My money, sir, what, all ? Why, if I must' (then wept), 'I give it Paul.' The manor, sir?- The manor ! hold,' he cried, ‘Not that I cannot part with that,' and died.

Pope. 251, AVARICE: its Folly.

247. AUTHORITY : its perils.

A MAN in authority is but as
A candle in the wind, sooner wasted
Or blown out than under a bushel.

Beaumont and Fletcher.

Go, miser! go: for lucre sell thy soul ;
Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole,
That men may say, when thou art dead and gone,
See what a vast estate he left his son !-Dryden.

248. AUTUMN. Lesson of

THE Autumn is old ;

The sere leaves are flying ; He hath gather'd up gold,

And now he is dying:
Old age, begin sighing !

Why lose we life in anxious cares
To lay in hoards for future years?
Can these, when tortured by disease,
Cheer our sick hearts, or purchase ease ?
Can these prolong one gasp of breath.
Or calm the troubled hour of death ?—Gay.

The vintage is ripe ;

The harvest is heaping ;
But some that have sow'd

Have no riches for reaping :-
Poor wretch, fall a-weeping!

Riches, like insects, when conceal'd they lie, Wait but for wings, and in their season fly; Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store Sees but a backward steward for the poor;

This year a reservoir, to keep and spare ;
The next a fountain, spouting through his heir,
In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst,
And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst.

Pope.

252. AVARICE : in the young.

Young men to imitate all ills are prone,
But are compell’d to avarice alone ;
For then in virtue's shape they follow vice.

Dryden.

Most wretched wight, whom nothing might suffice,

Whose greedy lust did lack in greatest store, Whose need had end, but no end covetise, Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him

poor, Who had enough, yet wished evermore.-Spenser, When I was blind, my son, I did miscall My sordid vice of avarice, true thrift. But now forget that lesson, I prithee do. That cos'ning vice, although it seems to keep Our wealth, debars us from possessing it, And makes us more than poor.-May. Who, lord of millions, trembles for his store, And fears to give a farthing to the poor ; Proclaims that penury will be his fate, And, scowling, looks on charity with hate.

Wolcott.

253. AVARICE : insatiable.

Canst thou tell me what is insatiable ?

The greedy eye of avarice!
Were all the universe a loaded table,

It never, never could fill this !-Oriental.

234 AVARICE : Man's last vice.

The lust of gold succeeds the lust of conquest :
The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless!
The last corruption of degenerate man.
When all sins are old in us,
And go upon crutches, covetousness
Does but then lie in her cradle. - Decker.

The love of gold, that meanest rage
And latest folly of man's sinking age,
Which rarely venturing in the van of life,
While nobler passions wage their heated strife,
Comes skulking last, with selfishness and fear,
And dies collecting lumber in the rear.-Moore.

The more we have, the meaner is our store ;
The unenjoying craving wretch is poor.-Creech.
He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands
His bonds of debt and mortgages of lands ;
Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes,
Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies.

Johnson.
256. AVARICE. Offerings of
Thou hop'st with sacrifice of oxen slain
To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain,
To give thee flocks and herds, with large increase ;
Fool! to expect them from a bullock's grease!
And think'st that when the fatten'd flames aspire,
Thou seest the accomplishment of thy desire !
Now, now my bearded harvest gilds the plain,
The scanty folds can scarce my sheep contain,
And showers of gold come pouring in amain !
Thus dreams the wretch, and vainly thus dreams on,
Till his lank purse declares his money gone.
O souls in whom no heavenly fire is found,
Fat minds, and ever grovelling on the ground !
We bring our manners to the blest abodes,
And think what pleases us must please the gods.

Persius, tr. by Dryden.

255. AVARICE. Misery of AND greedy avarice by him did ride

l'pon a camell loaden all with gold ; Two iron coffers hang on either side,

With precious metall full as they might hold, And in his lap an heap of coin he told ;

For of his wicked pelf his god he made, And into hell himself for money sold ;

Accursed usury was all his trade,

And right and wrong ylike in equall balance waide, His life was nigh unto death's dore yplaste ;

And thread-bare cote and cobbled shoes he ware, He scarce good morsell all his life did taste,

Bat both from backe and belly still did spare, To fill his bags, and richesse to compare :

Yet child nor kinsman living had he none,
To leave them to; but thorough daily care

To get, and nightly feare to lose his own,
He led a wretched life unto himselfe unknown.

257. AVARICE. Peril of

Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil,

Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dim To all things else. Wealth is the conjurer's devil, Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him.

Gold thou mayst safely touch ; but if it stick

Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. What skills it if a bag of stones, or gold,

About thy neck do drown thee? raise thy head;

Win back the soul that His fair path forsook,

And mighty and eternal is the gain.

The answer lower still—'Thy will be done.'
And now, where we had often pictured her,
I saw her one of the beatified,
In Paradise ; our treasure was with God;
The gift in the great Giver's strong right hand;
And none who look'd on her could choose but say,
* Eva, sweet angel, God be bless'd for thee.'

E. H. Bickerstath.

266. BACKSLIDER'S RETURN. The

264. BABE. Departure of a
IT came upon us by degrees :

We saw its shadow ere it fell,
The knowledge that our God had sent

His messenger for Babie Bell.
We shudder'd with unlanguaged pain,

And all our hopes were changed to fears,

And all our thoughts ran into tears,
Like sunshine into rain.

We cried aloud in our belief,
"O smite us gently, gently, God!
Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,

And perfect grow through grief.'
Ah, how we loved her, God can tell ;

Her heart was folded deep in ours.
Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell !
At last he came, the messenger,

The messenger from unseen lands : And what did dainty Babie Bell ?

She only cross'd her little hands, She only look'd more meek and fair! We parted back her silken hair,

We wove the roses round her brow

White buds, the summer's drifted snowWrapt her from head to foot in flowers !

And thus went dainty Babie Bell Out of this world of ours.-T. B. Aldrich.

I COME, O Lord, to Thee ;
In sad and grievous thought I hear Thy call,
And I must come, or else from Thee I fall

Deeper in misery.

I have not kept Thy word, And yet Thou biddest me to taste Thy love ; Shaming my faithless heart, that e'er could rove

From Thee, O gracious Lord !

Shame wraps my heart around, Like morning gloom upon the mountains spread ; Indignant memory, avenger dread,

Deepens each restless wound.

Yet must I come to Thee !
Thou hast the words of life, and Thou alone ;
Thou sitt'st upon the Mediator's throne :

Where should a sinner flee?

Whom didst Thou turn away? From what distress was hid Thy pitying face? What cold rebuke e'er check'd the cry for grace? Can I unheeded pray?

Thomas IV. Webb. 267. BAD TEMPERS.

Of all bad things by which mankind are cursed, Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.

Cumberland.

268. BANISHMENT. An Epilogue.

265. BACKSLIDERS: how they are to be treated. LOOK thou with pity on a brother's fall,

And dwell not with stern anger on his fault; The grace of God alone holds thee, holds all ; Were that withdrawn, thou too would'st swerve

and halt. Lead back the wanderer to the Saviour's fold;

That were an action worthy of a saint ;
Bat not in malice let the crime be told,

Nor publish to the world the evil taint.
The Saviour suffers when His children slide ;

Then is His holy name by men blasphemed,
And He afresh is mock'd and crucified

Even by those His bitter death redeem'd. Rebuke the sin, but yet in love rebuke,

Feel as one member in another's pain ;

On a fair ship, borne swiftly o'er the deep,
A man was lying, wrapp'd in dreamless sleep;
When unawares upon a sunken rock
That vessel struck, and shatter'd with the shock.
But strange! the plank where lay the sleeper bore
Him, wrapt in deep sleep ever, to the shore.
Sweet tones first woke him from his sleep, when

round
His couch observant multitudes he found :
All hail'd him then, and did before him bow,
And with one voice exclaim'd-Our king art thou.'
With jubilant applause they bore him on,
And set him wondering on a royal throne.
Much he rejoiced, and he had well-nigh now
Forgotten whence he hither came, and how ;
Until at eve, of homage weary grown,
He craved a season to be left alone.
Alone in hall magnificent he sate,
And mused upon the wonder of his fate;
When lo! an aged counsellor, a seer,
Before unnoticed, to the king drew near :