DCLXXXIII.

Authors are judg'd by strange capricious rules,
The great ones are thought mad, the small ones fools,
Yet sure the best are most severely fated,

For fools are only laugh'd at-wits are hated.
Blockheads with reason men of sense abhor;
But fool 'gainst fool is barb'rous civil war.
Why on all authors then should critics fall?
Since some have writ, and shown no wit at all.

DCLXXXIV.

Pope..

Self-love is better than any gilding, to make that seem gorgeous wherein ourselves be parties.

DCLXXXV.

Sir P. Sidney.

If it be impossible to think without materials, there must necessarily be minds that do not always think; and whence shall we furnish materials for the meditation of the glutton between his meals, of the sportsman in a rainy month, of the annuitant between the days of quarterly payment, of the politician when the mails are detained by contrary winds.-Johnson.

DCLXXXVI.

Idleness is the badge of gentry, the bane of body and mind, the nurse of naughtiness, the step-mother of discipline, the chief author of all mischief, one of the seven deadly sins, the cushion upon which the devil chiefly reposes, and a great cause not only of melancholy, but of many other diseases: for the mind is naturally active; and if it be not occupied about some honest business, it rushes into mischief, or sinks into melancholy.-Burton.

DCLXXXVII.

The medium between a fop and a sloven is what a man of sense would endeavour to keep; yet I remember Mr. Osborn advises his son to appear in his habit rather above than below his fortune; and tells him that he will find a handsome suit of clothes always procures some additional respect. I have indeed myself observed that my

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banker ever bows lowest to me when I wear my fullbottomed wig; and writes me Mr.' or 'Esq.' according as he sees me dressed.—Budgell.

DCLXXXVIII.

When gods had fram'd the sweets of woman's face,
And lockt men's looks within her golden hair,
That Phoebus blush'd to see her matchless grace,
And heavenly gods on earth did make repair,
To 'quip fair Venus' overweening pride,
Love's happy thoughts to jealousy were tied.
Then grew a wrinkle on fair Venus' brow,

The amber sweet of love is turn'd to gall;
Gloomy was heaven; bright Phoebus did avow

He would be coy, and would not love at all; Swearing no greater mischief could be wrought, Than love united to a jealous thought.

DCLXXXIX.

Greene.

Why was this heart of mine formed with so much sensibility? or why was not my fortune adapted to its impulse? Tenderness, without a capacity of relieving, only makes the man who feels it more wretched than the object which sues for assistance.-Goldsmith.

DCXC.

He whose first emotion, on the view of an excellent production, is to undervalue it, will never have one of his own to show.-Aikin.

DCXCI.

What a shame it is for a man of quality to be ignorant of Solon in our Athens, and of Lycurgus in our Sparta! Besides, law will help him to keep his own, and bestead his neighbours. Say not that there be enough which make this their set practice: for so there are also many masters of defence by their profession. And shall men therefore learn no ill at their weapons?-Fuller.

DCXCII.

Presumptuous man! the reason would'st thou find, Why form'd so weak so little and so blind!

First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess
Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less!
Ask of thy mother earth why oaks are made
Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade!
Or ask of yonder argent fields above
Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove.

DCXCIII.

Pope

Ridicule, perhaps, is a better expedient against love, than sober advice, and I am of opinion, that Hudibras and Don Quixote may be as effectual to cure the extravagancies of this passion, as any one of the old philosophers.-Addison.

DCXCIV.

He that hath a trade, hath an estate, and he that hath a calling, hath an office of profit and honour: but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes.-Franklin.

DCXCV.

To love.

It is to be all made of sighs and tears;
It is to be all made of faith and service;
It is to be all made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and all made of wishes,
All adoration, duty, and observance;

All humbleness, patience, and impatience;
All purity, all trial, all observance.

DCXCVI.

Shakspeare.

The periwig is a kind of index of the mind; the fullbottom formally all combed before, denotes the lawyer and the politician; the smart tie-wig with the black riband shows a man of fierceness of temper; and he that burthens himself with a superfluity of white hair, which flows down the back, and mantles in waving curls over the shoulders, is generally observed to be less curious in the furniture of the inward recesses of the skull,

and lays himself open to the application of that censure which Milton applies to the fair sex,

of outward form

Elaborate, of inward, less exact.

DCXCVII.

Gay.

It is not only paying wages and giving commands, that constitutes a master of a family; but prudence, equal behaviour, with a readiness to protect and cherish them, is what entitles a man to that character in their very hearts and sentiments.-Steele.

DCXCVIII.

Many have made witty invectives against usury. They say, that it is pity the devil should have God's part, which is the tithe: that the usurer is the greatest sabbath-breaker, because his plough goeth every Sunday; that the usurer is the drone that Virgil speaks of:

"Ignavum fucos pecus à præsepibus arcent;"

that the usurer breaketh the first law that was made for mankind after the fall, which was "in sudore vultus tui comedes panem tuum;" not "in sudore vultus alieni," that usurers should have orange tawny bonnets, because they do judaise; that is against nature for money to beget money, and the like.-Lord Bacon.

DCXCIX.

Foure things are grievously empty: a head without brains, a wit without judgment, a heart without honesty, and a purse without money.-Bishop Earle.

DCC.

If Love hath lent you twenty thousand tongues
And every tongue more moving than your own,
Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs,
Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown:
For know, my heart stands armed in my ear,
And will not let a false sound enter there.

Shakspeare-Venus and Adonis.

DCCI.

I always considered those combinations which are sometimes formed in the playhouse, as acts of fraud or of cruelty: he that applauds him who does not deserve praise, is endeavouring to deceive the public: he that hisses in malice or sport, is an oppressor and a robber. -Johnson.

DCCII.

Above our neighbours our conceptions are;
But faultless writing is th' effect of care.
Our lines reform'd, and not compos'd in haste,
Polish'd like marble, would like marble last.
But as the present, so the last age writ,
In both we find like negligence and wit.
Were we but less indulgent to our faults,
And patience had to cultivate our thoughts,
Our muse would flourish, and a nobler age
Would honour this than did the Grecian stage.
Thus says our author, not content to see
That others write as carelessly as he;

Tho' he pretends not to make things complete,
Yet, to please you, he'd have the poets sweat.
Waller.-Prologue to the Maid's Tragedy.

DCCIII.

In the towns and countries I have seen, I never saw a city or village yet, where miseries were not in proportion to the number of its public houses. In Rotterdam, you may go through eight or ten streets without finding a public house. In Antwerp, almost every second house seems an alehouse. In the one city, all wears the appearance of happiness and warm affluence; in the other, the young fellows walk about the streets in shabby finery, their fathers sit at the door darning or knitting stockings, while their ports are filled with dunghills.-Goldsmith.

DECIV.

Precepts are the rules by which we ought to square our lives. When they are contracted into sentences, they strike the affections; whereas admonition is only blowing of the coal.-Seneca.