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Gutta cavat lapidem non vi, sed sæpe cadendo. The drop hollows out the stone not by strength, but by constant falling. Quoted in the Menagiana, 1713. Probably first to use it was RICHARD, MONK OF S. VICTOR; Paris. (Died about 1172. Scotchman by birth.) In his Adnotationes mystica in Psalmos he says: "Quid lapide durius, quid aqua mollius? Verumtamen gutta cavat lapidem non vi sed sæpe cadendo." See MIGNE'S Patrologia Latina. Vol. CXCVI. P. 389. Said to be by CHORILUS OF SAMOS, by SIMPLICIUS-Ad Aristot. Physic. Auscult. VIII. 2. P. 429. (Brand's ed.) Same idea in LUCRETIUS I. 314; also in IV. 1282. Trans. of a proverb quoted by GALEN Vol. VIII. P. 27. Ed. by KÜHN, 1821,

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See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs,

And mounts exulting on triumphant wings: Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. POPE-Windsor Forest. L. 111.



They say that the lady from Philadelphia who is staying in town is very wise. Suppose I go ask her what is best to be done.

LUCRETIA P. HALE-Peterkin Papers. Ch. I.


Hail! Philadelphia, tho' Quaker thou be,
The birth-day of medical honors to thee

In this country belongs; 'twas thou caught the flame,

That crossing the ocean from Englishmen came
And kindled the fires of Wisdom and Knowledge,
Inspired the student, erected a college,
First held a commencement with suitable state,
In the year of our Lord, seventeen sixty-eight.
WM. TODD HELMUTH-The Story of a City

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Like two cathedral towers these stately pines
Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;
The arch beneath them is not built with stores,
Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,
And carved this graceful arabasque of vines;
No organ but the wind here sighs and inoans,
No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones,
No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.
Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,
Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!
Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,
In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,
Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,
And learn there may be worship without words.
LONGFELLOW-Sonnets. My Cathedral.

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And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear, For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms

without a peer.

BURNS O Luve Will Venture In.


The beauteous pink I would not slight.
Pride of the gardener's leisure.

GOETHE-The Floweret Wondrous Fair. St. 8.
JOHN S. DWIGHT's trans.

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