robbed of the integrity in which it was created, and will not have purity enough to carry men to heaven, or to choose the way thither.-Clarendon.

CCLIX.

Children play

With fiery flames, and covet what is bright;
But feeling the effects, abbor the light.

Birth of Merlin-by Rowley and Shakspeare.

CCLX.

A prisoner is an impatient patient, lingring vnder the rough hands of a cruell phisitian: his creditor hauing cast his water, knowes his disease, and hath power to cure him, but takes more pleasure to kill him. He is like Tantalus, who hath freedome running by his doore, yet cannot enjoy the least benefit thereof His greatest griefe is that his credit was so good and now no better. His land is drawne within the compasse of a sheepe's skin, and his owne hand the fortification that barres him of entrance: hee is fortunes tossing-bal, an obiect that would make mirth melancholy: to his friends an abiect, and a subiect of nine dayes' wonder in euery barber's shop, and a mouthfull of pitty (that he had no better fortune) to midwiues and talkatiue gossips; and all the content that this transitory life can giue him seems but to flout him, in respect the restraint of liberty barres the true vse. To his familiars hee is like a plague, whom they dare scarce come nigh for feare of infec tion; he is a monument ruined by those which raysed him, he spends the day with a hei mihi! ve miserum! and the night with a nullis est medicabilis herbis.—Essayes and Characters, 1638.

CCLXI.

When sorrows come, they come not single spies;
But in battalions!

CCLXII.

Shakspeare.

There cannot live a more unhappy creature than an ill-natured old man, who is neither capable of receiving pleasures, nor sensible of doing them to others. -Sir IV. Temple.

CCLXIII.

On what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears Man's life is all a mist, and in the dark

Our fortunes meet us.

If fate be not, then what can we foresee?
And how can we avoid it if it be?

If by free-will in our own paths we move,
How are we bounded by decrees above?
Whether we drive, or whether we are driven,
If ill, 'tis ours; if good, the act of heav'n.

CCLXIV.

Dryden.

Those colours which seem most appropriated to beauty, are the milder of every sort; light greens, soft blues, weak whites, pink reds, and violets. If the colours be strong and vivid, they are always diversified, and the object is never of one strong colour; there are almost always such a number of them (as in variegated flowers,) that the strength and glare of each is considerably abated. In a fine complexion, there is not only some variety in the colouring, but the colours; neither the red nor the white are strong and glaring: besides, they are mixed in such a manner, and with such gradations, that it is impossible to fix the bounds. On the same principle it is, that the dubious colour in the necks and tails of peacocks, and about the heads of drakes, is so very agreeable. In reality, the beauty both of shape and colouring are as nearly related, as we can well suppose it possible for things of such different natures to be.-Burke.

CCLXV.

Sincerity's my chief delight,

The darling pleasure of my mind;
O that I could to her invite,

All the whole race of human kind;
Take her, mortals, she's worth more,
Than all your glory, all your fame,
Than all your glitt'ring boasted store,
Than all the things that you can name

She'll with her bring a joy divine,

All that's good, and and all that's fine.
Lady Chudleigh.

CCLXVI.

Misers have been described as madmen, who in the midst of abundance banish every pleasure, and make, from imaginary wants, real necessities. But few, very few, correspond to this exaggerated picture; and perhaps, there is not one in whom all these circumstances are found united. Instead of this, we find the sober and the industrious branded by the vain and the idle, with this odious appellation. Men who, by frugality and labour, raise themselves above their equals, and contribute their share of industry to the common stock.Whatever the vain or the ignorant may say, well were it for society had we more of this character amongst us. In general, these close men are found at last the true benefactors of society. With an avaricious man we seldom lose in our dealings, but too frequently in our commerce with prodigality.-Goldsmith."

CCLXVII.

What is a man,

If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed a beast, no more.
Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before, and after, gave us not

That capability and godlike reason,

To fust in us unused.

CCLXVIII.

Shakspeare.

It is not the quantity of the meat, but the cheerfulness of the guests, which makes the feast; it was only at the feast of the Centaurs, where they ate with one hand, and had their drawn swords in the other; where there is no peace, there can be no feast.-Clarendon.

CCLXIX.

The Fan shall flutter in all female hands,
And various fashions learn from various lands.

For this shall elephants their ivory shed,
And polish'd sticks the waving engines spread:
His clouded mail the tortoise shall resign,
And round the rivet pearly circles shine.
On this shall Indians all their art employ,
And with bright colours stain the gaudy toy,
Their pains shall here in wildest fancies flow;
Their dress, their customs, their religion show.
So shall the British fair their minds improve,
And on the fan to distant climates rove.
Here China's ladies shall their pride display,
And silver figures gild their loose array;
This boasts her little feet, and winking eyes,
That times the fife, or tinkling cymbal plies.
Here cross-legg'd nobles in rich state shall dine,
There in bright mail distorted heroes shine.
The peeping fan in modern times shall rise,
Through which unseen the female ogle flies;
This shall in temples the shy maid conceal,
And shelter love beneath devotion's veil.
Gay France shall make the fan her artists' care
And with the costly trinket arm the fair;
As learned orators, that touch the heart,
With various action raise their soothing art;
Both head and hand affect the list'ning throng,
And humour each expression of the tongue;
So shall each passion by the fan be seen,
From noisy anger to the sullen spleen.
CCLXX.

Gay

Thou mayst be sure that he that will in private tell thee of thy faults, is thy friend, for he adventures thy dislike, and doth hazard thy hatred; for there are few men that can endure it, every man for the most part delighting in self-praise, which is one of the most universal follies that bewitcheth mankind.—Sir W. Raleigh.

CCLXXI.

Such as thy words are, such will thy affections be esteemed; and such will thy deeds as thy affections, and such thy life as thy deeds.—Socrates.

CCLXXII.

I desire a man to bring his wit, rather than his will, to investigation: for fore-deemings and foresettled opinions do bring into bondage the reason of them that have the best wit; whereas, it belongeth not to the will to over-rate the wit, but to the wit to guide the will.— Sir P. Sidney.

CCLXXIII.

Oh, the bewitching tongues of faithless men!
"Tis thus the false hyena makes her moan,
To draw the pitying traveller to her den.
Your sex are so, such false dissemblers all;

With sighs and plaints y' entice poor women's hearts,
And all that pity you are made your prey.

CCLXXIV.

Otway.

In every garden, four things are necessary to be provided for-flowers, fruit, shade, and water; and who ever lays out a garden without all these, must not pretend it in any perfection: it ought to lie to the best parts of the house, or to those of the master's commonest use. so as to be but like one of the rooms out of which you step into another. The part of your garden next your house (besides the walks that go round it,) should be a parterre for flowers, or grass-plots, bordered with flowers; or if, according to the newest mode, it be cast all into grass-plots and gravel walks, the dryness of these should be relieved with fountains, and the plainness of those with statues; otherwise, if large, they have an ill effect upon the eye. However, the part next the house should be open, and no other fruit but upon the walls. If this take up one half of the garden, the other should be fruit-trees, unless some grove for shade lie in the middle: if it take up a third part only, then the next third may be dwarf-trees, and the last standard-fruit; or else, the second part fruit-trees, and the third all sorts of winter-greens, which provide for all seasons of the year. I will not enter upon any account of flowers having only pleased myself with seeing or smelling them, and not troubled myself with the care, which is more