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ARGUMENT - SOPHISTRY.
2. Enjoy thy gay wit and false rhetoric,
That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence;
3. Reproachful speech from either side.
4. Dogmatic jargon learnt by heart,
5. He'd undertake to prove, by force
6. A man convinc'd against his will, Is of the same opinion still.
7. Now with fine phrase, and foppery of tongue,
8. In subtle sophistry's laborious forge.
9. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass,
But true expression, like th' unchanging sun,
POPE'S Essay on Criticism.
10. Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me? POPE'S Moral Essays. 11. Like doctors thus, when much dispute has past, We find our tenets just the same at last.
POPE'S Moral Essays.
12. But as some muskets do contrive it,
TRUMBULL'S M'Fingal. 13. The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, The apostate of affection-he, who threw Enchantment over passion, and from woe Wrung overwhelming eloquence.
BYRON'S Childe Harold.
O'er erring deeds and thoughts a heav'nly hue.
15. His speech was a fine sample, on the whole,
BYRON'S Don Juan.
16. With temper calm and mild,
17. With neat and rounded phrase
He tricks the shapeless thought;
2. Shallow artifice begets suspicion,
And, like a cobweb veil, but thinly shades
Make my breast
Transparent as pure crystal, that the world,
Thou, like the adder venomous and deaf,
Needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
You talk to me in parables;
You may have known that I'm no wordy man:
ASSASSINATION - MURDER.
6. The brave do never shun the light;
Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers;
8. A man of sense can artifice disdain,
As men of wealth may venture to go plain;
7. "T is great, 't is manly to disdain disguise; It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength. YOUNG'S Night Thoughts.
ASSASSINATION - MURDER.
YOUNG'S Love of Fame.
1. Will all Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clear from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
Making this green one, red.
The great King of kings
3. The tyrannous and bloody act is done; The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of.
4. Though in the trade of war I have slain men,
5. See-his face is black and full of blood;
ASSOCIATES - COMPANY.
6. Blood, though it sleeps a time, yet never dies; The gods on murd'rers fix revengeful eyes.
7. Murder itself is past all expiation,
His hair uprear'd; his nostrils stretch'd with struggling;
Is there a crime
Beneath the roof of heaven, that stains the soul
9. Cease, triflers; would you have me feel remorse,
I think thou wilt forgive him, whom his God
Are often welcomest when they are gone.
Oh! thou dead
And everlasting witness! whose unsinking