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What is the end of fame? 'tis but to fill

The selfish as a promise of advancement, at least to A certain portion of uncertain paper:

a man's own kin, Some liken it to climbing up a hill,

And common minds as a flattering fact, that men Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour:

have been told of their existence. -Tupper. For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their midnight For fame the wretch beneath the gallows lies, taper,'

Disowning every crime for which he dies, To have, when the original is dust,

Of life profuse, tenacious of a name,
A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

Fearless of death, and yet afraid of shame.
Byron.

Nature has wove into the human mind

This anxious care of names we leave behind, 'Tis as a snow-ball which derives assistance

To extend our narrow views beyond the tomb, From every flake, and yet rolls on the same,

And give an earnest of a life to come ; Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow ;

For, if when dead, we are but dust or clay,
But after all 'tis nothing but cold snow.

Why think of what posterity shall say?
Byron.

Her praise or censure cannot us concern,
Gaze

Nor ever penetrate the silent urn.
Upon the shade of those distinguish'd men,

Soame Jennyns. Who were or are the puppet-shows of praiseThe praise of persecution. Gaze again

1203. FAME: must be merited. On the most favour'd; and amidst the blaze

The fame that a man wins himself is best; Of sunset haloes o'er the laurel-brow'd,

That he may call his own : honours put on him
What can ye recognize? a gilded cloud.

Make him no more a man than his clothes do,
Byron.

Which are as soon ta'en off; for in the warmth
Fame ! Fame! thou canst not be the stay

The heat comes from the body, not the weeds;
Unto the drooping reed,

So man's true fame must strike from his own deeds. The cool fresh fountain in the day

Middleton.
Of the soul's feverish need:

1204. FAME: must be waited for.
Where must the lone one turn or flee?
Not unto thee, oh! not to thee !

Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid,
Mrs Hemans. A soldier should be modest as a maid :

Fame is a bubble the reserved enjoy; 1201. FAME: leads men to crime.

Who strive to grasp it, as they touch destroy;

'Tis the world's debt to deeds of high degree; GLORY grows guilty of detested crimes,

But if you pay yourself, the world is free.
When for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,
We bend to that the working of the heart.

Young
Shakespeare.

1205. FAME: of the wicked. Yet this mad chase of fame, by few pursued,

He left the name, at which the world grew pale, Has drawn destruction on the multitude.

To point a moral, or adorn a tale.- Johnson.

Dryden. 1202, FAME. Lust of

1206. FAME: partial. In all men, from the monarch to the menial, lurketh

Ah me! full sorely is my heart forlorn, lust of fame;

To think how modest worth neglected lies, The savage and the sage alike regard their labours

While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn proudly:

Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise, Yea, in death, the glazing eye is illumined by the

Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise. hope of reputation,

Shenstone. And the stricken warrior is glad, that his wounds Will fortune, fame, my present ills relieve? are salved with glory.

And what is fame, that flutt'ring noisy sound, The thoughtful loveth fame as an earnest of better But the cold lie of universal vogue ? immortality,

Thousands of men fall in the field of honour, The industrious and deserving as a symbol of just Whose glorious deeds die in inglorious silence, appreciation,

| Whilst vaunting cowards, favour'd by blind fortune

Reap all the fruit of their successful toils,
And build their fame upon their noble ruins.

H. Smith. 1207. FAME. Posthumous

TRUE fame's a plant that seems to need
A body buried-for its seed;
And ere the churlish sucklings thrive,
The parent-stock must cease to live.
The good, the great, the wise, the just,
Are little valued till they're dust,
Nor till they mutter 'Earth to earth,
Can men perceive another's worth.-Colton.

1210. FAME: robs men of rest.
A NOBLE emulation heats your breast,
And your own fame now robs you of your rest:
Good actions still must be maintain'd with good,
As bodies nourish'd with resembling food.

Dryden. 1211. FAME: seldom won.

In stress of weather, most ; some sink outright;
O'er them, and o'er their names, the billows close;
To-morrow knows not they were ever born.
Others a short memorial leave behind,
Like a flag floating, when the bark's ingulph'd;
It floats a moment and is seen no more:
One Cæsar lives ; a thousand are forgot.— Young.

1212. FAME. Spur of
FAME is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of noble minds)
To scorn delights, and live laborious days;
But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind fury with th' abhorred shears,
And slits the thin-spun life.-Milton.

I courted fame but as a spur to brave
And honest deeds; and who despises fame
Will soon renounce the virtues that deserve it.

Mallet. 1213. FAME: strangely won.

1208. FAME. Power of

OH! who shall lightly say that fame
Is nothing but an empty name?
Whilst in that sound there is a charm
The nerve to brace, the heart to warm,
As, thinking of the mighty dead,
The young from slothful couch will start,
And vow, with lifted hands outspread,
Like them to act a noble part ?
Oh! who shall lightly say that fame
Is nothing but an empty name?
When but for those our mighty dead,
All ages past a blank would be,
Sunk in oblivion's murky bed-
A desert bare, a shipless sea ?
They are the distant objects seen-
The lofty marks of what hath been.

Joanna Baillie.
1209. FAME. Qualities of
What's fame?-a fancied life in others' breath,
A thing beyond us, e'en before our death.
Just what you hear, you have, and what's unknown
The same (my lord) if Tully's, or your own.
All that we feel of it begins and ends
In the small circle of our foes or friends;
To all beside as much an empty shade
A Eugene living as a Cæsar dead;
Alike or when or where they shone or shine,
Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine.
A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod;
An honest man's the noblest work of God.
Fame but from death a villain's name can save,
As justice tears his body from the grave ;
When what to oblivion better were resign'd
Is hung on high, to poison half mankind,
All fame is foreign, but of true desert ;
Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart :
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs
Oí stupid starers and of loud huzzas.
And more true joy Marcellus exiled feels
Than Casar with a senate at his heels.-- Pope.

The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it.

Cibber 1214. FAMILY: a Book.

The family is like a book,

The children are the leaves, The parents are the cover that

Protective beauty gives.

At first the pages of the book

Are blank, and smooth, and fair ; But time soon writeth memories,

And painteth pictures there.

Love is the little golden clasp

That bindeth up the trust; Oh break it not, lest all the leaves

Shall scatter and be lost.

1215. FAMILY: inseparable.

'Tis but one family—the sound is balm,

A seraph-whisper to the wounded heart, It lulls the storm of sorrow to a calm,

And draws the venom from the avenger's dart.

121;. FAMILY Ties of the

T hat is the

A certain Some liken

Whose si For this me

And bar

taper, To have,

name,

Tin tsal faaly ilir irrisersone

Tubes lottad tasuta luate is to deras the age of woe I tak se 1180* * to uit the sa m e,

Il si hiyo'ct a Wer fire. Ihsil t se poate ls memory dead?

las tambhal, fumes, anali), and has love grown

If there is happiness belor,

In such a bome she's shrined: The human heart can never know

Enjoyment more refined, Than where the sacred band is twined

Of filial and parental ties That tender union, all combined

Of Nature's holiest sympathies !

'Tis a
Fron
Ever
But

Hias ii) Ball and memento fed,

Aulais the living only with us stall ?
No! la suhaits the luat we mour remain

Ottopus in our love and ever freah dilight;
Anlain. husets itth in hei fally train,

Tuli talian jais jis the mourner's sight. er! mtu a thousand was, tar or near,

The wall boy bornes bog om bathin buoushit, Tu tau tela I s Ic! they haunt us here,

I the w rongasins al cut sweetest thought. Ia in jalates, the girllen wires

l's*: Cici ticsuklal to their names betare, Waitakie same thing tri tum exures,

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*Tis friendship in its loveliest dress! 'Tis love's most perfect tenderness! All other friendships may decay, All other loves may fade away: Our faults or follies may disgust The friend in whom we fondly trest; Or selfish views may intervene, From us his changeful heart to wean: Or we ourselves may change, and find Faults to which once our love was blind: Or ling’ring pain, or pining care Ai length may weary friendship's ear; And love may gaze with alter'd eye, When beauty's young attractions fly: Bat in that amon, firm and mild, Tha: binds a parent to his child. Suci jarring chords can deve soundSi pamtu, doubs can ever wound

hot benitt: mc jatuna muy decas, An. Sein heart DS ERUT;

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ise whom they serve ; with social feelings kind The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ;
h to the other, and with knees inclined How he, who lone in Patmos banished,
riarchal worship, heart and tongue.

Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, o the Saviour's words! Where two or three And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by et in My name, there in the midst am I.'

Heaven's command. - ve, and welcome to thy family

Then, kneeling down, to heaven's eternal King, e gracious Guest ; and by His blessing try,

The saint, the father, and the husband prays : much domestic bliss and amity

Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' ang on domestic worship’s hallowing tie!

That thus they all shall meet in future days; Mant.

There ever bask in uncreated rays, 19. FAMILY WORSHIP. Duty of

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear,

Together hymning their Creator's praise, Whom God hath made the heads of families, In such society, yet still more dear; He hath made priests to offer sacrifice.

While circling Time moves round in an eternal - - Daily let part of Holy Writ be read,

sphere. Let, as the body, so the soul have bread;

Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride, - For look, how many souls in thy house be,

In all the pomp of method and of art, With just as many souls God trusteth thee.

When men display to congregations wide,

Devotion's every grace, except the heart ! 1220. FAMILY WORSHIP. Picture of

The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert,

The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ; Le cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,

But, haply, in some cottage far apart, They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; he sire tums o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,

May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul ;

And in His Book of Lise the inmates poor enroll. The big ha’-Bible, ance his father's pride ;

Burns. lis bonnet reverently is laid aside,

1221. FANATICISM. Definition of
His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare :
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, | What is fanatic frenzy, scorn'd so much,
He wales a portion with judicious care ;

And dreaded more than a contagious touch?
And 'Let us worship God!' he says with solemn air. | I grant it dangerous, and approve your fear,

That fire is catching if you draw too near ; They chant their artless notes in simple guise ;

But sage observers oft mistake the flame, They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim :

And give true piety that odious name. Perhaps ‘Dundee's' wild-warbling measures rise,

To tremble (as the creature of an hour Or plaintive ‘Martyrs,' worthy of the name;

Ought at the view of an Almighty power) Or noble • Elgin' beats the heavenward flame,

Before whose presence, at whose awful throne, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays :

All tremble in all worlds, except our own, Compared with these, Italian trills are tame ;

To supplicate His mercy, love His ways, The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise ;

And prize them above pleasure, wealth, or praise, Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise.

Though common sense, allow'd a casting voice, The priest-like father reads the sacred page--

And free from bias, must approve the choice, How Abram was the friend of God on high ;

Convicts a man fanatic in the extreme, Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage

And wild as madness in the world's esteem. With Amalek's ungracious progeny,

But that disease, when soberly defined, Or how the royal bard did groaning lie

Is the false fire of an o'erheated mind; Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire ;

| It views the truth with a distorted eye, Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ;

And either warps or lays it useless by ; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire;

'Tis narrow, selfish, arrogant, and draws Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.

Its sordid nourishment from man's applause;

And while at sin unrelinquish'd lies, Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,

Presumes itself chief favourite of the skies.-Cowper. How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, 1222. FANCY. Had not on earth whereon to lay His head :

In the soul How His first followers and servants sped ;

Are many lesser faculties, that serve

Reason as chief : among these fancy next
Her office holds; of all external things,
Which the five watchful senses represent,
She forms imaginations, airy shapes,
Which reason joining, or disjoining, frames
All what we affirm, or what deny, and call
Our knowledge or opinion.-Milton.
Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains,
Winning from reason's hand the reins.-Scott.

A close designer not to be believed,
Or, if excused that charge, at least deceived.

Cowper.
1226. FASHION. Compliance with
NOTHING exceeds in ridicule, no doubt,
A fool in fashion, but a fool that's out;
His passion for absurdity's so strong
He cannot bear a rival in the wrong.
Though wrong the mode, comply: more sense is

shown In wearing others' follies than our own.— Young.

1227. FASHION. Folly of

1223. FAREWELL. Dread of Nay, shrink not from the word 'farewell,' As if 'twere friendship's final knell;

Such fears may prove but vain : So changeful is life's fleeting day, Whene'er we sever hope may say,

"We part to meet again!'
Even the last parting earth can know
Brings not unutterable woe,

To souls that heavenward soar ;
For humble faith, with steadfast eye,
Points to a brighter world on high,
Where hearts that here at parting sigh,

May meet to part no more. - Barton.

1224. FAREWELL. Welcome and

TIME is like a fashionable host,
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand;
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the comer ; welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing. --Shakespeare.

The rout is Folly's circle, which she draws
With magic wand. So potent is the spell,
That none, decoy'd into that fatal ring,
Unless by Heaven's peculiar grace, escape.
There we grow early grey, but never wise ;
There form connections, but acquire no friend;
Solicit pleasure, hopeless of success ;
Waste youth in occupations only fit
For second childhood, and devote old age
To sports which only childhood could excuse.
There they are happiest who dissemble best
Their weariness; and they the most polite
Who squander time and treasure with a smile,
Though at their own destruction. She that asks
Her dear five hundred friends contemns them all,
And hates their coming. They (what can they less?)
Make just reprisals ; and with cringe and shrug,
And bow obsequious, hide their hate of her.
Wives beggar husbands, husbands starve their wives,
On Fortune's velvet altar offering up
Their last poor pittance-Fortune, most severe
Of goddesses yet known, and costlier far
Than all that held their routs in heathen's heaven.
So fare we in this prison-house, the world ;
And 'tis a fearful spectacle to see
So many maniacs dancing in their chains.
They gaze upon the links that hold them fast
With eyes of anguish, execrate their lot,
Then shake them in despair, and dance again.

Cowper. 1228. FASHION. Fool of

1225. FASHION. Ban of Fashion, leader of a chattering train, Whom man, for his own hurt, permits to reign, Who shifts and changes all things but his shape, And would degrade her votary to an ape, The fruitful parent of abuse and wrong, Holds a usurp'd dominion o'er his tongue ; There sits and prompts him with his own disgrace, Prescribes the theme, the tone, and the grimace, And, when accomplish'd in her wayward school, Calls gentlemen whom she has made a fool. 'Tis an unalterable, fix'd decree, That none could frame or ratify but she, That heaven and hell, and righteousness and sin, Snares in his path, and foes that lurk within, God and His attributes (a field of day Where 'tis an angel's happiness to stray), Fruits of His love and wonders of His might, Be never named in ears esteem'd polite. That he who dares, when she forbids, be grave, Shall stand proscribed, a madman or a knave,

With scrupulous care exact, he walk'd the rounds Of fashionable duty ; laugh'd when sad ; When merry, wept; deceiving, was deceived ; And flattering, flatter'd. Fashion was his god. Obsequiously he fell before its shrine, In slavish plight, and trembled to offend. If graveness suited, he was grave; if else, He travail'd sorely, and made brief repose, | To work the proper quantity of sin.

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