The copy of a copy, and lame draught
Unnaturally taken from a thought:
That counterfeiters all pantomimick tricks,
And turns the eyes like an old crucifix;
That counterchangers whatsoe'er it calls
B' another name, and makes it true or false;
Turns truth to falsehood, falsehood into truth,
By virtue of the Babylonian's tooth.

MCCXXXVII.

Butler.

Whereas other passions, even when they are in their ruff and acme, do in some sort yield and admit reason into the soul, which comes to help it from without; anger does not, as Melanthius speaks,

Displace the mind, and then act dismal things,

but absolutely turns it out of doors, and bolts the door against it; and, like those who burn their houses and themselves within them, it makes all things within full of confusion, smoke and noise; so that the soul can neither see nor hear any thing that might relieve it. Wherefore sooner will an empty ship in a storm at sea, admit of a governor from without, than a man, tossed with anger and rage, listen to the advice of another, unless he have his own reason first prepared to entertain it.-Plutarch.

MCCXXXVIII.

The fatalist stands a good chance of being contented 'with his lot, unless 'tis ordained to the contrary.-Zim

merman.

MCCXXXIX.

It is a wonderful thing that so many, and they not reckoned absurd, shall entertain those with whom they converse, by giving them the history of their pains and aches; and imagine such narrations their quota of the conversation. This is, of all other, the meanest help to discourse, and a man must not think at all, or think himself very insignificant, when he finds an account of his headach answered by another's asking what news in the last mail.-Steele.

MCCXL.

-Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lips? stopping the career Of laughter with a sigh? (a note infallible Of breaking honesty) horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes blind With pin and web, but theirs; theirs only, That would unseen be wicked? Is this nothing? Why then the world and all that's in't is nothing; The covering sky is nothing, and Bohemia nothing! Winter's Tale.-Shakspeare.

MCCXLI.

The enemy of art is the enemy of nature; art is nothing but the highest sagacity and exertion of human nature; and what nature will be honour who honours not the human.-Lavater.

MCCXLII.

If thou continuest to take delight in idle argumentation thou mayst be qualified to combat with the sophists, but wilt never know how to live with men.-Socrates.

MCCXLIII.

Sir M. Lacy. What a fine man

Hath your tailor made you!

Plenty. 'Tis quite contrary,

I have made my tailor, for my clothes are paid for
As soon as put on; a sin your man of title

Is seldom guilty of.

City Madam.-Massinger.

MCCXLIV.

One may know a man that never conversed in the world, by his excess of good-breeding. A polite country esquire shall make you as many bows in half an hour, as would serve a courtier for a week. There is infinitely more to do about place and precedency in a meeting of justices' wives, than in an assembly of duchesses.-Ad

MCCXLV.

255

Books, to judicious compilers, are useful-to particu ar arts and professions absolutely necessary to men of eal science they are tools: but more are tools to them. -Joineriana, 1772.

MCCXLVI.

Invention's humorous and nice,
And never at command applies;
Disdains t' obey the proudest wit,
Unless it chance to b' in the fit;
Makes all her suitors course and wait
Like a proud minister of state,
And, when she's serious, in some freak,
Extravagant, and vain, and weak,
Attend her silly lazy pleasure,
Until she chance to be at leisure,
When 't is more easy to steal wit,
To clip, and forge, and counterfeit,
Is both the bus'ness and delight,
Like hunting-sports, of those that write;
For thievery is but one sort,

The learned say, of hunting-sport.
Hence 't is that some, who set up first
As raw, and wretched, and unverst,
And opened with a stock as poor
As a healthy beggar with one sore;
That never writ in prose or verse,
But prick'd or cut it like a purse,
And at the best could but commit
The petty larceny of wit,

To whom to write was to purloin,
And printing but to stamp false coin:
Yet after long and sturdy endeavours
Of being painful wit receivers,
With gath'ring rags and scraps of wit,
As paper's made on which 't is writ,
forth authors, and acquir'd,
The right or wrong to be admir'd,
And, arm'd with confidence, incurr'd
The fool's good luck, to be preferr'd.

Have gone

For as a banker can dispose
Of greater sums he only owes,
Than he who honestly is known,
To deal in nothing but his own,
So whosoe'er can take up most,
May greatest fame and credit boast.

Butler-on Plagiaries.

MCCXLVII.

If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess, there would not be much envy in the world.-Young.

MCCXLVIII.

Virtue I love, without austerity; pleasure without effeminacy; and life without fearing its end.-St. Evremond.

MCCXLIX.

Five great enemies to peace inhabit with us, viz. avarice, ambition, envy, anger, and pride, and that if those enemies were to be banished, we should infallibly enjoy perpetual peace.-Petrarch.

MCCL.

A mechanic looks to his tools; a painter washes his pencils; a smith mends his hammer, anvil, or forge; and a husbandman sharpens his ploughshare; but scholars totally neglect those instruments, the brain and spirits, by means of which they daily range through the regions of science and the wilds of nature. Like careless and unskilful archers, they bend the bow until it breaks. In almost every other pursuit, diligence and industry are sure of being rewarded with success; but in the beloved pursuits of literature, the most unremitted industry, though it may sometimes exalt a student's fame, is never favourable to his fortune, and always destructive of his health. Every thing is sacrificed to the enjoyment of this delightful though laborious occupation. Saturn and Mercury, the patrons of learning, are both dry planets; and Origanus observes, that it is no wonder the Mercurialists are poor, since their patron Mercury was himself a

beggar. The destinies of old put poverty upon the celestial herald as a punishment; and ever since those Gemini, or twin-born brats, Poetry and Poverty, have been inseparable companions. Their tutelary deity is enabled to furnish them with the riches of knowledge, but not of money.-Burton.

MCCLI.

Quiet night, that brings

Rest to the labourer, is the outlaw's day,
In which he rises early to do wrong,

And when his work is ended dares not sleep.

MCCLII.

Massinger.

When self-interest inclines a man to print, he should consider that the purchaser expects a penny-worth for his penny, and has reason to asperse his honesty if he finds himself deceived: also, that is possible to publish a book of no value, which is too frequently the product of such mercenary people. When fame is the principal object of our devotion, it should be considered whether our character is like to gain in point of wit what it will probably lose in point of modesty: otherwise, we shall be censured of vanity more than famed for genius, and depress our character while we strive to raise it.-Shenstone.

MCCLIII.

Never did any soul do good, but it came readier to do the same again, with more enjoyment. Never was love or gratitude, or bounty practised but with increasing joy, which made the practiser still more in love with the fair act.—Shaftesbury.

MCCLIV.

He only is great who has the habits of greatness; who, after performing what none in ten thousand could accomplish, passes on like Sampson, and " tells neither father nor mother of it."-Lavater.

MCCLV.

The general affectation among men, of appearing greater than they are, makes the whole world run into