Swift continued.]

Bread is the staff of life.

Tale of a Tub.

The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages.

Thoughts on Various Subjects. Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent.

Ibid.

A nice man is a man of nasty ideas. Ibid. Not die here in a rage like a poisoned rat in a hole. Letter to Bolingbroke, March 21, 1729.

I shall be like that tree, I shall die at the top. Scott's Life of Swift.

ALAIN RENÉ LE SAGE.

1668-1747.

I wish you all sorts of prosperity with a little Gil Blas. Book vii. Ch. 4.

more taste.

1 When the poem of "Cadenus and Vanessa," was the general topic of conversation some one said, "Surely that Vanessa must be an extraordinary woman, that could inspire the Dean to write so finely upon her." Mrs. Johnson smiled and answered, that "she thought that point not quite so clear, for it was well known the Dean could write finely upon a broomstick."— Johnson's Life of Swift.

COLLEY CIBBER. 1671-1757.

So mourned the dame of Ephesus her love; And thus the soldier, armed with resolution, Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer. Richard III. Altered. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Now by St. Paul the work goes bravely on.

Act iii. Sc. I.

The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome
Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it.
Act iii. Sc. I.

I've lately had two spiders

Crawling upon my startled hopes.

Now tho' thy friendly hand has brushed 'em from

me,

Yet still they crawl offensive to my eyes ;

I would have some kind friend to tread upon 'em. Act iv. Sc. 3.

Off with his head! so much for Buckingham! Act iv. Sc. 3.

And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay
Gives it a sweet and wholesome odour.

Act v. Sc. 3.

With clink of hammers1 closing rivets up.
Act v. Sc. 3.

1 With busy hammers. - Shakespeare, Henry V., Act iv. Chorus.

Centlivre.

Steele.

Cibber continued.]

No, never be it said.

Perish that thought!
That Fate itself could awe the soul of Richard.
Hence, babbling dreams; you threaten here in
vain ;

Conscience, avaunt, Richard 's himself again!
Hark! the shrill trumpet sounds, to horse, away,
My soul's in arms, and eager for the fray.
Act v. Sc. 3.

A weak invention of the enemy.1

249

SUSANNAH CENTLIVRE. 1667-1723.

The real Simon Pure.

Act v. Sc. 3.

A Bold Stroke for a Wife. Act v. Sc. 1.

II

SIR RICHARD STEELE. 1671-1729.

(Lady Elizabeth Hastings.) Though her mien carries much more invitation than command, to behold her is an immediate check to loose behavior; to love her was a liberal education.2 The Tatler. No. 49.

*

1 A thing devised by the enemy. — Shakespeare, Richard III, Act v. Sc. 3.

2 Leigh Hunt incorrectly ascribes this expression to Congreve.

JOSEPH ADDISON. 1672 1719.

САТО.

The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers,
And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
The great, the important day, big with the fate
Of Cato, and of Rome.

Act i. Sc. I.

Thy steady temper, Portius, Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar, In the calm lights of mild philosophy.

Act i. Sc. I. 'T is not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve it. Act i. Sc. 2. Blesses his stars and thinks it luxury.

Act i. Sc. 4. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul; I think the Romans call it stoicism.

Act i. Sc. 4.

Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
The pale, unripened beauties of the north.
Acti. Sc. 4.
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
The virtuous Marcia towers above her sex.
Act i. Sc. 4.
My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
Act ii. Sc. I.

Cato continued.]

A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

The woman that deliberates is lost.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, The post of honour is a private station.

Act iv. Sc. 4.

――

It must be so
- Plato, thou reasonest well!
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;
"T is heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.

Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!

Act v. Sc. I.

I'm of conjectures,
weary
this must end 'em.
Thus am I doubly armed: my death and life,
My bane and antidote, are both before me :
This in a moment brings me to an end;
But this informs me I shall never die.
The soul, secured in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds.

Act v. Sc. I.