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2566. NEGLECT. Penalty of

What is the good man and the wise ?
Ofttimes a pearl which none doth prize ;

Or jewel rare, which men account
A common pebble, and despise.

Set forth upon the world's bazaar,
It mildly gleams, but no one buys,

Till it in anger Heaven withdraws From the world's undiscerning eyes :

And in its shell the pearl again, And in its mine the jewel, lies.-Oriental.

2569. NEW YEAR. Uncertainty of the Could I, from heaven inspired, as sure presage

To whom the rising year shall prove his last, As I can number in my punctual page

And item down the victims of the past;

How each would trembling wait the mournful sheet

On which the press might stamp him next to die ; And, reading here his sentence, how replete

With anxious meaning, heavenward turn his eye! Then doubtless many a trifler, on the brink

Of this world's hazardous and headlong shore, Forced to a pause, would feel it good to think,

Told that his setting sun must rise no more.

Ah, self-deceived ! could I prophetic say

Who next is fated, and who next to fall, The rest might then seem privileged to play; But, naming none, the Voice now speaks to all.


2567. NEGLECT. The sinner's The husbandman, who sluggishly forgot In spring to plough and sow, could censure none, Though winter clamour'd round his empty barns. But he who having thus neglected, did Refuse, when autumn came, and famine threaten'd, To reap the golden field that charity Bestow'd-nay, more obdurate, proud, and blind, And stupid still, refused, though much beseech'd, And long entreated, even with Mercy's tears, To eat what to his very lips was held, Cook'd temptingly–he certainly, at least, Deserved to die of hunger, unbemoan'd. So did the wicked spurn the grace of God, And so were punish'd with the second death.

2568. NEIGHBOUR. Definition of
Thy neighbour? It is he whom thou

Hast power to aid and bless ;
Whose aching heart and burning brow

Thy soothing hand may press.
Thy neighbour ? 'Tis the fainting poor,

Whose eye with want is dim;
Whom hunger sends from door to door ;-

Go thou and succour him.
Thy neighbour? 'Tis that wearied man

Whose years are at their brim,
Bent low with sickness, cares, and pain !-

Go thou and comfort him.
Thy neighbour? 'Tis the heart bereft

Of every earthly gem;
Widow and orphan, helpless left ;-

Go thou and shelter them.
Thy neighbour? Yonder toiling slave,

Fetter'd in thought and limb,
Whose hopes are all beyond the grave ! -

Go thou and ransom him.
Whene'er thou meet'st a human form

With any need or grief,
Remember 'tis thy brother worm ;

Oh! give thou quick relief.

O LOVING One! O bounteous One!

What have I not received from Thee, Throughout the seasons that have gone

Into the past eternity?
Lowly my name, and mine estate ;

Yet, Father, many a child of Thine,
Of purer heart and cleaner hands,

Walks in a humbler path than mine. And, looking backward through the year,

Along the way my feet have press'd, I see sweet places everywhere,

Sweet places where my soul had rest.

For though some human hopes of mine

Are dead and buried from my sight, Yet from their graves immortal flowers

Have sprung and blossom'd into light. Body, and heart, and soul have been

Fed by the most convenient food; My nights are peaceful all the while,

And all my mortal days are good. My sorrows have not been so light,

Thy chastening hand I could not trace ; Nor have my blessings been so great

That they have hid my Father's face.

2571. NIGHT. Charms of

LOOK how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims :
Such harmony is in immortal souls ;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

Now glow'd the firmament
With livid sapphires : Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in cloudy majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.-Milton.
But see where, in the clear, unclouded sky,
The crescent moon, with calm and sweet rebuke,
Doth charm away the spirit of complaint.
Her tender light falls on the snow-clad hills,
Like the pure thoughts that angels might bestow
Upon this world of beauty and of sin,
That mingle not with that wherein they rest;
So should immortal spirits dwell below.
There is a holy influence in the moon,
And in the countless hosts of silent stars,
The heart cannot resist : its passions sleep,
And all is still : save that which shall awake
When all the vast and fair creation sleeps.

Mrs Follen. 2572. NIGHT. Moral of

Behold the world Rests, and her tired inhabitants have paused From trouble and turmoil. The widow now Has ceased to weep, and her twin orphans lie Lock'd in each arm, partakers of her rest. The man of sorrow has forgot his woes; The outcast that his head is shelterless, His griefs unshared. The mother tends no more Her daughter's dying slumbers, but surprised With heaviness, and sunk upon her couch, Dreams of her bridals. Even the hectic, lullid On Death's lean arm to rest, in visions wrapp'd, Crowning with Hope's bland wreath his shuddering

nurse, Poor victim ! smiles. Silence and deep repose Reign o'er the nations ;, and the warning voice Of nature utters audibly within The general moral - tells us that repose, Death-like as this, but of far longer span, Is coming on us—that the weary crowds, Who now enjoy a temporary calm, Shall soon taste lasting quiet, wrapp'd around With grave-cloths; and their aching, restless heads Mouldering in holes and corners unobserved, Till the last trump shall break their sullen sleep.

H. Kirke White. 2573. NIGHT. Temple of

And how I bless night's consecrating shades,
Which to a temple turn a universe ;

Fill us with great ideas full of heaven,
And antidote the pestilential earth!
In every storm that either frowns or falls,
What an asylum has the soul in prayer !
And what a fane is this, in which to pray!
And what a GoD must dwell in such a fane!
Oh, what a genius must inform the skies !

Young 2574. NIGHT. Uses of the

Night is the time for rest;

How sweet, when labours close,
To gather round an aching heart

The curtain of repose,
Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head
Upon our own delightful bed.
Night is the time to weep,

To wet with unseen tears
Those graves of memory, where sleep

The joys of other years,
Hopes that were angels in their birth,
But perish'd young, like things of earth.
Night is the time to muse;

Then from the eye the soul
Takes flight, and with expanding views,

Beyond the starry pole,
Descries, athwart the abyss of night,
The dawn of uncreated light.

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Hence man's best riches must be gain'd—not given; O PLODDING life! crowded so full

His noblest name deserved, and not derived.

Mrs Hale.
Of earthly toil and care !
The body's daily need receives

2577. NOBILITY. True
The first and last concern, and leaves

'Tis not the wealth that makes a king,
No room for Jesus there.

Nor the purple colouring,
O busy brain ! by night and day

Nor a brow that's bound with gold,
Working, with patience rare,

Nor gate on mighty hinges roll’d.
Problems of worldly loss or gain,

The king is he, who, void of fear,
Thinking till thought becomes a pain-

Looks abroad with bosom clear;
No room for Jesus there.

Who can tread ambition down,
O throbbing heart! so quick to feel

Nor be sway'd by smile or frown :
In others' woes a share,

Nor for all the treasure cares
Yet human loves each power enthrall,

That mine conceals, or harvest wears,
And sordid treasures fill it all-

Or that golden sands deliver,
No room for Jesus there.

Bosom'd in a glassy river.

What shall move his placid might?
O sinful soul! thus to debase

Not the headlong thunder-light,
The being God doth spare !

Nor all the shapes of slaughter's trade,
Blood-bought thou art! no more thine own; With onward lance, or fiery blade.
Heart, brain, life, all are His alone-

Safe, with wisdom for his crown,
Make room for Jesus there,

He looks on all things calmly down;

He welcomes Fate, when Fate is near,
Lest soon the bitter day shall come

Nor taints his dying breath with fear.
When vain will be thy prayer
To find in Jesus' heart a place :

No-to fear not earthly thing,
For ever closed the door of grace,

That is all that makes the king;
Thou'lt gain no entrance there.

And all of us, whoe'er we be,

May carve us out that royalty. 2576. NOBILITY : not an accident of birth.

Seneca, tr. by Leigh Hunt. WHOE'ER amidst the sons

2578. NOVELS. Nature of Of reason, valour, liberty, and virtue, Displays distinguish'd merit, is a noble

A Novel was a book Of nature's own creating. Such have risen,

Three-volumed, and once read, and oft cramm'd full Sprung from the dust; or where had been our Of poisonous error, blackening every page ; honours ?- Thomson.

And oftener still of trifling, second-hand
Look round

Remark, and old, diseased, putrid thought;
Among the titled great ones of the world;

And miserable incident, at war Do they not spring from some proud monarch's With nature, with itself and truth at war: flatterer,

Yet charming still the greedy reader on, Some favourite mistress, or ambitious minister, Till, done, he tried to recollect his thoughts, The ruin of his country, while their blood

And nothing found but dreaming emptiness. Rolls down through many a fool, through many a These, like ephemera, sprung in a day, villain,

From lean and shallow-soiled brains of sand, To its now proud possessors ?- Frances.

And in a day expired ; yet while they lived,

Tremendous ofttimes was the popular roar ;
There's no power

And cries of Live for ever! struck the skies.
In ancestry to make the foolish wise,

Pollok The ignorant learn'd, the cowardly and base

2579. NOVELS. Vicious Deserving our respect as hrave and good. All men feel this : nor dares the despot say

YE writers of what none with safety reads, His fiat can endow with truth the soul,

Footing it in the dance that fancy leads ; Or, like a pension, on the heart bestow

Ye novelists, who mar what ye would mend, The virtues current in the realms above.

Snivelling and drivelling folly without end,


Whose corresponding misses fill the ream
With sentimental frippery and dream,
Caught in a delicate soft silken net
By some lewd earl or rakehell baronet ;
Ye pimps who, under virtue's fair pretence,
Steal to the closet of young Innocence,
And teach her, unexperienced yet and green,
To scribble as you scribble at fifteen ;
Who, kindling a combustion of desire,
With some cold moral think to quench the fire,
Though all your engineering proves in vain,
The dribble stream ne'er puts it out again :
Oh that a verse had power, and could command
Far, far away, these flesh-flies of the land,
Who fasten without mercy on the fair,
And suck, and leave a craving maggot there!

Cowper. 2580. NOVELTY.

New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous,
Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd.

Shakespeare. All with one consent, praise new-born gauds, Though they are made and moulded of things past.

Shakespeare. If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work ; But, when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

Shakespeare. Of all the passions that possess mankind, The love of novelty rules most the mind; In search of this, from realm to realm we roam ; Our fleets come fraught with every folly home.

Still sighs the world for something new,

For something new
Imploring me, imploring you,

Some Will-o'-wisp to help pursue.
Ah, hapless world, what will it do!
Imploring me, imploring you,

For something New!-Hoyt.

What use of oaths, of promise, or of test,
Where men regard no God but interest?

2582. OATHS. Frequent
Oaths terminate, as Paul observes, all strife-
Some men have surely then a peaceful life.
Whatever subject occupy discourse,
The feats of Vestris, or the naval force,
Asseveration blustering in your face
Makes contradiction such a hopeless case ;
In every tale they tell, or false or true,
Well known, or such as no man ever knew,
They fix attention, heedless of your pain,
With oaths like rivets forced into the brain;
And even when sober truth prevails throughout,
They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt.
A Persian, humble servant of the sun,
Who, though devout, yet bigotry had none,
Hearing a lawyer, grave in his address,
With adjurations every word impress,
Supposed the man a bishop, or at least,
God's name so much upon his lips, a priest ;
Bow'd at the close with all his graceful airs,
And begg'd an interest in his frequent prayers.

Cowper. 2583. OBEDIENCE. Perfect

I WORSHIP Thee, sweet Will of God!

And all thy ways adore,
And every day I live, I seem

To love Thee more and more.
When obstacles and trials seem

Like prison walls to be,
I do the little I can do,

And leave the rest to Thee.

I know not what it is to doubt;

My heart is ever gay, I run no risk, for come what will,

Thou always hast Thy way!

I have no cares, O blessed Will,

For all my cares are Thine ;
I live in triumph, Lord, for Thou

Hast made Thy triumphs mine. - Faber.

2581. OATHS.

2584. OBLIVION. Emblem of

Oaths were not purposed more than law
To keep the good and just in awe,
But to confine the bad and sinful,
Like moral cattle, in a pinfold.-Butler.

An oath is a recognizance to heaven,
Binding us over in the courts above,
To plead to the indictment of our crimes,
That those who 'scape this world should suffer there.


ALONE I walk'd the ocean strand;
A pearly shell was in my hand :
I stoop'd and wrote upon the sand

My name, the year, the day.
As onward from the spot I pass'd,
One lingering look behind I cast :
A wave came rolling high and fast,

And wash'd my lines away.


And so, methought, 'twill shortly be With every mark on earth from me : A wave of dark oblivion's sea

Will sweep across the place Where I have trod the sandy shore Of Time, and been to be no more, Of me, my day, the name I bore,

To leave nor track nor trace.

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,

When for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell’d, uncoffin'd, and unknown.


And yet, with Him who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in His hands,
I know a lasting record stands,

Inscribed against my name,
Of all this mortal part has wrought,
Of all this thinking soul has thought,
And from these fleeting moments caught

For glory or for shame.-Hannah F. Gould.

2585. OBSERVATION. Points of

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form

Glasses itself in tempests : in all time,
Calm or convulsed--in breeze, or gale, or storm,

Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime

Dark-heaving-boundless, endless, and sublimeThe image of eternity—the throne

Of the invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made : each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless,

alone. —Byron.
Type of the Infinite! I look away
Over thy billows, and I cannot stay
My thought upon a resting-place, or make
A shore beyond my vision, where they break;
But on my spirit stretches, till it's pain
To think ; then rests, and then puts forth again.

Ocean, thou dreadful and tumultuous home
Of dangers, at eternal war with man!
Death's capital where most he domineers,
With all his chosen terrors frowning round,
Wide opening and loud roaring still for more,
Too faithful mirror! how dost thou reflect
The melancholy face of human life.

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ALL's not offence that indiscretion finds,
And dotage terms so.—Shakespeare.

Time to me this truth has taught

('Tis a treasure worth revealing), More offend by want of thought Than by any want of feeling.

Charles Swain.

Your blunderer is as sturdy as a rock,
The creature is so sure to kick and bite,
A muleteer's the man to set him right.
First appetite enlists him truth's sworn foe,
Then obstinate self-will confirms him so.
Tell him he wanders; that his error leads
To fatal ill ; that though the path he treads
Be flowery, and he see no cause of fear,
Death and the pains of hell attend him there;
In vain, the slave of arrogance and pride,
He has no hearing on the prudent side.
His still refuted quirks he still repeats;
New-raised objections with new quibbles meets ;
Till sinking in the quicksand he defends,
He dies disputing, and the contest ends.

2587. OCEAN.
OTHERS may use the ocean as their road,
Only the English make it their abode ;
Whose ready sails with every wind can fly,
And make a cov'nant with th' inconstant sky.

Waller. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean,-roll!

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain : Man marks the earth with ruin,-his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain

2589. OFFERING. A complete

Saviour, is there anything

I have fail'd to bring ?
Lies my offering at Thy feet

Lord, bethink Thee, I am poor;

Slender is my store;
Yea, my best is nothing worth

Even on earth-
Even to men : oh! then, how small

To the Lord of all,
Who, creating worlds anew,

As the dew

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