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Not starr'd and spangled courts,
3224. STATES : easily destroyed. Where low-brow'd baseness wasts perfume to pride. No: men, high-minded men,
A THOUSAND years scarce serve to form a state; With powers as far above dull brutes endued
An hour may lay it in the dust.-Byron.
BELIEVE me, friends, loud tumults are not laid But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain,
With half the easiness that they are raised.
He ill aspires to rule
Cities of men or headstrong multitudes,
Subject himself to anarchy within.-Milton.
Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, The fiend, Dissension, like a vapour sinks;
In action faithful, and in honour clear!
Who broke no promise, served no private end, Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks.
Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend : Sir William Jones.
Ennobled by himself, by all approved,
Praised, wept, and honour'd by the muse he loved 3223. STATE. Duty to the
Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey Our country is a whole, my Publius,
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, Of which we all are parts : nor should a citizen
'Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand Regard his interests as distinct from hers : No hopes or fears should touch his patriot soul,
Between a splendid and a happy land.
Goldsmik But what affect her honour or her shame. E'en when in hostile fields he bleeds to save hier,
Whose genius was such 'Tis not his blood he loses, 'tis his country's;
We scarcely could praise him, or blame him too He only pays her back a debt he owes.
much ; To her he's bound for birth and education;
Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, Hei laws secure him from domestic feuds,
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. And from the foreign foe her arms protect him.
Goldsmith. She lends him honours, dignity, and rank,
3226. STATUES. His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays;
So stands the statue that enchants the world. And, like a tender and indulgent mother,
Thomsen. Loads him with comforts, and would make his state As bless'd as nature and the gods design'd it.
Thereon, amongst his travels, found
A broken statue on the ground; Such gifts, my son, have their alloy of pain,
And searching onward, as he went,
He traced a ruin'd monument.
Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown From the dear blessings of a social life,
The sculpture of the crumbling stone; And from the sacred laws which guard those bless
Yet ere he past, with much ado,
He guess'd, and spell’d out Sci-pi-o. ings,
• Enough,' he cried ; 'I'll drudge no more Renounce the civilized abodes of man,
In turning the dull Stoics o'er.'- Watts.
3227. STEP BY STEP. Or, if the shaggy hunters miss their prey,
HEAVEN is not reach'd at a single bound; From scatter'd acorns pick a scanty meal :
But we build the ladder by which we rise Far from the sweet civilities of life,
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies,
And we mount to its summit round by round.
I count this thing to be grandly true :
What were it now to toss upon the waves
The madden'd waves, and know no succour near;
The howling of the storm alone to hear, And the wild sea that to the tempest raves ;
To gaze amid the horrors of the night,
And only see the billows' gleaming light; And in the dread of death to think of her
Who, as she listens sleepless to the gale,
Puts up a silent prayer and waxes pale? O God! have mercy on the mariner Southey.
A thunder-storm !-the eloquence of heaven,
Lifting the soul from the common clod
By what we have master'd of good and gain ;
By the pride deposed and the passion slain ; And the vanquish'd ills that we hourly meet. We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust,
When the morning calls us to life and light,
But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night,
And we think that we mount the air on wings,
Beyond the recall of sensual things, While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. Wings for the angels, but feet for men!
We may borrow the wings to find the way
We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray ; But our feet must rise, or we fall again. Only in dreams is a ladder thrown
From the weary earth to the sapphire walls,
But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. Heaven is not reach'd at a single bound;
But we build the ladder by which we rise,
From the lowly earth to the vulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
7. G. Holland. 3228. STINGINESS.
A MERCHANT famed for stinginess
From the Persian of Saadi. 3229. STORMS. The Mariner that on smooth waves doth glide
Sings merrily, and steers his barque with ease, As if he had command of wind and tide,
And now become great Master of the seas; But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, And makes him long for a more quiet port, Which 'gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort.
Denham. O God ! have mercy in this dreadful hour
On the poor mariner! in comfort here,
3230. STORMS OF LIFE.
Swept fierce and wild o'er Galilee,
All calmly walking on the sea; And raging elements were still, Obedient to Thy sovereign will. So on life's restless, heaving wave,
When night and storm my sky o'ercast,
Hast changed my fear to joy at last.
And dark mistrust disturbs anew;
My days of peace, alas, how few !
Care not how hard the storm may beat,
And faith and patience keep their seat;
And laid the surging waves to rest,
From passions that disturb my breast.
Jesus, I yield me to Thy will,
Ray Palmer. 3231. STRENGTH. Growth of
VIGOUR from toil, from trouble patience grows.
The weakly blossom, warm in summer bower, Some tints of transient beauty may disclose;
But ah! it withers in the chilling hour.
Mark yonder oaks! Superior to the power Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise,
And from the stormy promontory tower They toss their giant arms amid the skies, While each assailing blast increase of strength sup
3232. STRENGTH. Promise of
WHEN adverse winds and waves arise,
In vain on study time away we throw,
Quoted in Latin by Sir E. Coke. Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven.
Sir Im. Jones. I know what study is ; it is to toil Hard through the hours of the sad midnight watch At tasks which seem a systematic curse, And course of bootless penance. -Bailey.
All mankind are students. How to live
Bailey. * Much study is a weariness.' The sage
Who gave his mind to seek and search until He knew all Wisdom-found that on the page
Knowledge and grief were vow'd companions still ! And so the students of a later day
Sit down among the records of old time
To hold high commune with the thoughts sublime of minds long gone :so they too pass away,
And leave us what? their course, to toil-reflectTo feel the thorn pierce through our gather'd flowers
Still 'midst the leaves the earth-worm to detect : And this is Knowledge.- Mrs Eames.
One trial more must yet be past,
Mrs Sigourney. 3233. STUDY. STUDY is like the heaven's glorious sun,
That will not be deep search'd with saucy looks;
Shakespeare. Alas ! when all our lamps are burn'd,
Our bodies wasted, and our spirits spent, When we have all the learned volumes turn'd
Which yield men's wits both help and ornament, What can we know, or what can we discern?
My midnight lamp is weary as my soul,
Urs Breunirs 3234. STYLE.
The fool hath planted in his memory
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
True expression, like th' unchanging sun, Defy the matter. --Shakespeare.
Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon :
It gilds all objects, but it alters none. — Pope. Express thyself in plain, not doubtful words, That ground for quarrels or disputes affords.
Pride often guides the author's pen;
Denham. Books as affected are as men ; 'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence ;
But he who studies nature's laws The sound must seem an echo to the sense :
From certain truth his maxims draws; Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows,
And those, without our schools, suffice, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows;
To make men moral, good, and wise.—Gay. But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
As veils transparent cover, but not hide, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar;
Such metaphors appear when right applied ; When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw,
ow, When through the phrase we plainly see the sense, The line too labours, and the words move slow :
Truth with such obvious meanings will dispense. Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Granville, Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the
Hyperboles, so daring and so bold, main.-Pope.
Disdaining bounds, are yet by rules controli'd ; Expression is the dress of thought, and still Above the clouds, but yet within our sight, Appears more decent, as more suitable;
They mount with truth, and make a towering flight. A vile conceit in pompous words express'd
Granville, Is like a clown in regal purple dress'd. — Pope. Our lines reform’d, and not composed in haste,
Polish'd like marble, would like marble last. Some to conceit alone their tastes confine,
Waller. And curious thoughts struck out at every line
| Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express Pleased with a work where nothing's just or fit, One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit. — Pope.
With painful care, but seeming easiness ;
For truth shines brightest through the plainest dress. Others for language all their care express,
Roscommon. And value books, as women men, for dress :
3235. SUBMISSION. A psalm of Their praise is still, ‘The style is excellent;' The sense they humbly take upon content.-Pope. I HOPED that with the brave and strong
My portion'd task might lie; First follow Nature, and your judgment frame
To toil amid the busy throng By her just standard, which is still the same;
With purpose pure and high ; Unerring Nature, still Divinely bright,
But God has fix'd another part, One clear, unchanged, and universal light,
And He has fix'd it well ; Life, force, and beauty must to all impart,
I said so with my breaking heart At once the source, and end, and test of art.
When first this trouble fell.
1 Pope. Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime ;
These weary hours will not be lost, 'Tis like the ladder in the patriarch's dream,
These days of misery, Its foot on earth, its height above the skies.
These nights of darkness, tempest-tost,Prior.
Can I but turn to Thee;
With secret labour to sustain Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolman's subtle art;
In patience every blow, No language but the language of the heart.
To gather fortitude from pain,
And holiness from woe.
If Thou shouldst bring me back to life,
More humble I should be,
More wise, more strengthen'd for the strife, Commas and points they set exactly right,
More apt to lean on Thee.
Should death be standing at the gate,
Thus should I keep my vow :
But, Lord! whatever be my fate, In the dry desert of a thousand lines.- Pope.
Oh let me serve Thee now.-Anne Bronté.
3236. SUBMISSION. Base
Then teach us still to smile, O Lord! though sharp
the stones may be, It grieves me to the soul Remembering that they bring us near to Thee, dear To see how man submits to man's control;
Lord, to Thee !
3240. SUBMISSION. Example of
Crabbe, 3237. SUBMISSION. Blessedness of
CHRIST had His sorrows-50 must thou,
If thou wilt tread the path He trod ALMIGHTY Power, I love Thee ! blissful name,
Oh then, like Him, submissive bow,
And own the sovereignty of God.
3241. SUBMISSION. tested. Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul. WHEN, blooming with the strength and pride of Thy hand of mercy is not short to save,
youth, Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf
Crown'd with Health's chaplet, mind and heart To mortal cries.- Watts.
With strong desire to serve my Lord, to sow 3238. SUBMISSION. Declaration of
Broadcast about my path rich seeds of truth,
And crush the evils which, with pois'nous tooth, SINCE 'tis Thy sentence I should part
| Lurk'd, ready for the spring and fatal blow, With the most precious treasure of my heart,
Beside the paths where men walk'd to and fro, I freely that and more resign,
I said, “I can be anything, in sooth, My heart itself, as its delight is Thine;
For Christ.' And now the dear Lord testeth me.
Shorn of my strength by dread disease, I find
I must be laid aside, while others bind
The sheaves and sow the seed, content to be But still will wish that I had still to give;
Nothing. Lord, I am in Thy hands. For Thee I hear Thy voice, Thou bid'st me quit Nothing or anything I'll be,-resign'd.-Burr. My paradise; I bless and do submit; I will not murmur at Thy word,
3242. SUCCESS: cannot be commanded. Nor beg Thy angel to sheathe up his sword.
'Tis not in mortals to command success;
But we'll do more, Sempronius, -we'll deserve it. 3239. SUBMISSION. Entire
Addison. God's ways are not as our ways, His thoughts are Success, the mark no mortal wit, not as ours;
Or surest hand, can always hit ; He wounds us sore with cruel thorns, where we For, whatsoe'er we perpetrate, have stoop'd for flowers;
We do but row, we're steer'd by fate. But oh ! 'tis from the oft-pierced heart those precious
Budler. drops distil,
3243. SUCCESS: not essential to happiness. That many a life, else all unblest, with healing balm shall fill :
What most of all to real happiness Then give, oh give the flower to those who pray it Doth tend, in this perplexing world of ours, so may be,
Is this—to think upon and recollect But I would choose to have the thorns, with Thee, What best we each have striven to perform, dear Lord, with Thee !
Not that in which we have succeeded best. Man judgeth man in ignorance, he seeth but in part ; Success is sweet, but sweeter still the thought Our trust is in our Maker, God, Who searcheth every That we have lived through disappointment's pang, heart;
And learn'd to feel that ill success is best ; And every wrong and every woe, when put beneath Still hoping on, with courage high, for bliss, our feet,
Far greater than this world can e'er bestow. As stepping-stones may help us on to His high | Yet hard the lesson, difficult the taskmercy-seat.
Then great the triumph-passing great the joy