CHARACTER WRITINGS OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

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Strana 100 - Who God doth late and early pray, More of his grace than gifts to lend, And entertains the harmless day, With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And having nothing, yet hath all.
Strana 99 - HOW happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill...
Strana 157 - A Child is a man in a small letter, yet the best copy of Adam before he tasted of Eve or the apple; and he is happy whose small practice in the world can only write his character. He is nature's fresh picture newly drawn in oil, which time, and much handling, dims and defaces.
Strana 292 - Twas such a shifter that, if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down ; For he...
Strana 70 - ... to do well. She bestows her year's wages at next fair, and in choosing her garments counts no bravery in the world like decency.
Strana 313 - All human things are subject to decay, And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey. This Flecknoe ' found, who, like Augustus, young Was called to empire and had governed long, In prose and verse was owned without dispute Through all the realms of Nonsense absolute.
Strana 88 - ... penknives. When he builds ^no poor tenant's cottage hinders his prospect : they are indeed his almshouses, though there be painted on them no such superscription. He never sits up late but when he hunts the badger, the vowed foe of his lambs...
Strana 158 - We laugh at his foolish sports, but his game is our earnest ; and his drums, rattles, and hobby-horses but the emblems and mocking of men's business.
Strana 158 - He is the Christian's example, and the old man's relapse; the one imitates his pureness, and the other falls into his simplicity. Could he put off his body with his little coat, he had got eternity without a burden, and exchanged but one heaven for another.
Strana 374 - ... Self-Martyrdom than part with the least Scruple of his Freehold; for it is impossible to dye his dark Ignorance into a lighter Colour. He is resolved to understand no Man's Reason but his own, because he finds no Man can understand his but himself. His Wits are like a Sack, which, the French Proverb says, is tied faster before it is full, than when it is ; and his Opinions are like Plants that grow upon Rocks, that stick fast though they have no Rooting. His Understanding is hardened like Phar\ao\h's...

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