Love of Fame continued.]

Where nature's end of language is declined,
And men talk only to conceal the mind.1

Satire ii. Line 207.

Be wise with speed;

A fool at forty is a fool indeed.

Satire ii. Line 282.

Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small sands the mountain, moments make the

year,

And trifles life.

Satire vi. Line 208.

One to destroy is murder by the law;
And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe ;
To murder thousands takes a specious name,
War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame.
Satire vii. Line 55.

How commentators each dark passage shun,
And hold their farthing candle to the sun.2
Satire vii. Line 97.

1 Speech was given to the ordinary sort of men, whereby to communicate their mind; but to wise men, whereby to conceal it. Robert South, Sermon, April 30th, 1676.

Speech was made to open man to man, and not to hide him; to promote commerce, and not betray it.. Lloyd's State Worthies (1665). Ed. Whitworth, Vol. 1. p. 503.

The true use of speech is not so much to express our wants as to conceal them. - Goldsmith, The Bee, No. iii. Oct. 20, 1759.

Ils n'emploient les paroles que pour déguiser leurs pensées. — Voltaire, Dialogue, xiv., Le Chapon et la Poularde, 1763.

See Proverbial Expressions.

Their feet through faithless leather met the dirt, And oftener changed their principles than shirt. Epistle to Mr. Pope. Line 277.

Accept a miracle, instead of wit,

See two dull lines with Stanhope's pencil writ.

Lines Written with the Diamond Pencil of Lord

Chesterfield.

Time elaborately thrown away.

The Last Day. Book i.

There buds the promise of celestial worth.

Ibid. Book iii.

In records that defy the tooth of time.

The Statesman's Creed.

Great let me call him, for he conquered me. The Revenge. Act i. Sc. I.

Souls made of fire, and children of the sun, With whom revenge is virtue.

Ibid. Act. v. Sc. 2.

The blood will follow where the knife is driven, The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear.

Ibid. Act v. Sc. 2.

BARTON BOOTH. 1681-1733.

True as the needle to the pole,

Or as the dial to the sun.2

Song.

1 From Mitford's Life of Young. See also Spence's

Anecdotes, p. 378.

2 Compare Butler, Hudibras, Pt. iii. C. 2, L. 175.

ALEXANDER POPE.

1688-1744.

ESSAY ON MAN.

Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things
To low ambition, and the pride of kings.
Let us (since life can little more supply
Than just to look about us, and to die)
Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man;
A mighty maze! but not without a plan.
Epistle i. Line 1.

Together let us beat this ample field,
Try what the open, what the covert yield.

Epistle i. Line 9.

Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies,
And catch the manners living as they rise;
Laugh where we must, be candid where we can,
But vindicate the ways of God to man.1

Epistle i. Line 13.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate. Epistle i. Line 77.

Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood. Epistle i. Line 83.

Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,

A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,

Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,

And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

Epistle i. Line 87.

1 See Milton, Paradise Lost, Book i. Line 26.

[Essay on Man continued.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never is, but always to be blest.
The soul, uneasy, and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo, the poor Indian! whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;
His soul, proud Science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk or milky way.

Epistle i. Line 95.

But thinks, admitted to that equal sky,
His faithful dog shall bear him company.

Epistle i. Line 111.

In pride, in reasoning pride, our error lies; All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies. Pride still is aiming at the blessed abodes, Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Epistle i. Line 123.

Die of a rose in aromatic pain.

Epistle i. Line 200.

The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.1
Epistle i. Line 217.

1 Much like a subtle spider which doth sit,
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide;
If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,
She feels it instantly on every side.

Sir John Davies (1570-1626), The Immortality of the Soul.
Our souls sit close and silently within,

And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Dryden, Mariage à la Mode, Act ii. Sc. L

Essay on Man continued.]

Remembrance and reflection how allied!

What thin partitions sense from thought divide!1 Epistle i. Line 225.

All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body Nature is, and God the soul. Epistle i. Line 267.

Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees.
Epistle i. Line 271.

As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,
As the rapt seraph that adores and burns:
To Him no high, no low, no great, no small;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all!
Epistle i. Line 277.

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;

All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood;

All partial evil, universal good;

And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right."

Epistle i. Line 289.

1 Compare Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel, Part i. Line 163.

"Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiæ fuit." Seneca, De Tranquillitate Animi, xvii. 10, quotes this from Aristotle, who gives as one of his Problemata (xxx. 1), Διὰ τί πάντες ὅσοι περιττοὶ γεγόνασιν ἄνδρες ἢ κατὰ φιλοσοφίαν ἢ πολιτικὴν ἢ ποίησιν ἢ τέχνας φαίνονται μελαγχολικοὶ ὄντες.

2 Whatever is, is in its causes just.

Dryden, Edipus, Act iii. Sc. 1.