The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And softer flame, But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name! Reader, attend-whether thy soul In low pursuit; Know, prudent, cautious, self-control Is wisdom's root. TESTIMONY is like an arrow shot from a long bow; the force of it depends on the strength of the hand that draws it. Argument is like an arrow from a cross bow, which has equal force though shot by a child. BACON. НОРЕ, Though 'tis pale sorrow's only cordial, MASON. PHILOSOPHICAL happiness is to want little, and to enjoy much. Civil or vulgar happiness is to want much, and to enjoy little. THERE is a manifest marked distinction, which ill men, with ill designs, or weak men, incapable of any design, will constantly be confounding, that is, a marked distinction between Change and Reformation. The former alters the substance of the objects themselves, and gets rid of all their essential good, as well as of all the accidental evil annexed to them. Change is novelty; and whether it is to operate any one of the effects of reformation at all, or whether it may not contradict the very principle upon which reformation is desired, cannot be certainly known beforehand. Reform is, not a change in the substance, or in the primary modification of the object, but a direct application of a remedy to the grievance complained of. So far as that is removed, all is sure. It stops there; and if it fails, the substance which underwent the operation, at the very worst, is but where it was. To innovate is not to reform. BURKE. ON THE UNION OF ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. WHEN was there contract better sealed by fate, BEN JONSON. ETERNAL Hope! when yonder spheres sublime When, wrapp'd in fire, the realms of ether glow, CAMPBELL. To forget all benefits, and to conceal the remembrance of all injuries, are maxims by which political men lose their honour, but make their fortunes. BISHOP WATSON. Or Time! no, that's a period too confined Which o'er the barrier leaps of added years, Shall Virtue see her honours shine; Shall see them blazing round the sacred shrine Of bless'd Eternity. HANNAH MORE. BEHOLD this ruin-'tis a skull This narrow cell was life's retreat, This place was thought's mysterious seat; Beneath this mouldering canopy If with no lawless fire it gleam'd, But through the dew of kindness beam'd, When suns and stars have lost their light. Here in this silent cavern hung The ready, swift, and tuneful tongue. If falsehood's honey it disdain'd, And where it could not praise, was chain'd; If bold in virtue's cause it spoke, Yet gentle concord never broke; That tuneful tongue shall plead for thee When Death unveils Eternity. Say did these fingers delve the mine, Or with the envied ruby shine, But if the page of truth they sought, These hands the richer meed shall claim, Avails it whether bare or shod, SEE a fond mother, and her offspring round, F |