Hatred. · Tacitus.

is the nature of the human disposition to Hate him whom you have injured.

Health. Sir W. Temple.

TExercise and Abstinence, to live as if he was poor. only way for a rich man to be healthy, is by

When Nature, being oppress'd, commands the mind
To suffer with the body.

PHYSIC is of little use to a temperate person, for a

man's own observation on what he finds does him good, and what hurts him, is the best physic to preserve Health.

Health.

PHYSIC, for the most part, is nothing else but the

substitute of Exercise and Temperance.

[EALTH is certainly more valuable than Money, be

HEALT it is Health that Money is procured; but

thousands and millions are of small avail to alleviate the protracted tortures of the Gout, to repair the broken organs of sense, or resuscitate the powers of Digestion. Poverty is, indeed, an evil from which we naturally fly: but let us not run from one enemy to another, nor take shelter in the arms of Sickness.

BLESSED Health! thou art above all Gold and Treasure; 'tis thou who enlargest the Soul,-and openest all its powers to receive instruction, and to relish Virtue.-He that has thee has little more to wish for! and he that is so wretched as to want thee, wants every thing with thee.

HAIL

At whose command Pæonian waters flow ;
Unpurchas'd Health! that dost thy aid impart
Both to the Patient and the Doctor's art!

THE surest road to Health, say what they will,
Is never to suppose we shall be ill.

Bestow'd by Heaven, but seldom understood.

Health. Sir W. Temple.

EALTH is the soul that animates all enjoyments of

if not

it a man starves at the best and the greatest Tables, makes faces at the noblest and most delicate Wines, is old and impotent in Seraglios of the most sparkling beauties, poor and wretched in the midst of the greatest treasures and fortunes; with common diseases Strength grows decrepit, Youth loses all vigour, and Beauty all charms; Music grows harsh, and Conversation disagreeable; Palaces are prisons, or of equal confinement: Riches are useless, Honour and attendance are cumbersome, and crowns themselves are a burden: but if Diseases are painful and violent, they equal all conditions of life, make no difference between a Prince and a Beggar; and a fit of the stone or the colic puts a King to the rack, and makes him as miserable as he can do the meanest, the worst, and most criminal of his subjects.

Health.
men

ELDOM shall we see in Cities, Courts, and rich

freely, that perfect Health, that athletic soundness and vigour of Constitution, which is commonly seen in the country, in poor houses and cottages, where Nature is their cook, and Necessity their caterer, and where they have no other doctor but the Sun and fresh air, and that such a one as never sends them to the Apothecary.

THE

HERE is this difference between those two temporal blessings, Health and Money: Money is the most envied, but the least enjoyed; Health is the most enjoyed, but the least envied; and this superiority of the latter is still more obvious when we reflect, that the poorest man would not part with Health for Money, but that the richest would gladly part with all their Money for Health,

FOR Life is not to live, but to be Well.

Health.

La Rochefoucauld.

Humours of the body have a stated and regular THE course, which impels and imperceptibly guides our Will. They co-operate with each other, and exercise successively a secret Empire within us; so that they have a considerable part in all our Actions without our being able to know it.

Health. Colton.

Anguish of Body, none.

NGUISH of Mind has driven thousands to suicide; This proves that the Health of the Mind is of far more consequence to our Happiness than the Health of the Body, although both are deserving of much more attention than either of them receives.

Health. Sterne.

-

PEOPLE who are always taking care of their Health

are like misers, who are hoarding up a treasure which they have never spirit enough to enjoy.

PRESE

Health.

La Rochefoucauld.

RESERVING the Health by too strict a regimen is a wearisome malady.

LOOK on me! there is an order

Of mortals on the earth, who do become
Old in their youth, and die ere middle age,
Without the violence of warlike Death;
Some perishing of Pleasure-some of Study-
Some worn with Toil-some of mere weariness-
Some of Disease-and some Insanity-
And some of wither'd, or of broken Hearts;
For this last is a malady which slays

More than are number'd in the lists of Fate,
Taking all shapes, and bearing many names.

HE Generous who is always Just, and the Just who is

throne of Heaven.

NE Sun by day, by night ten thousand shine,
And light us deep into the Deity;

How boundless in Magnificence and Might!
O what a confluence of ethereal Fires,

From urns unnumber'd, down the steep of Heaven,
Streams to a point, and centres in my sight!
Nor tarries there; I feel it at my Heart;
My Heart, at once, it humbles and exalts;
Lays it in dust, and calls it to the Skies.

The Heavens. — Byron.

WE Stars! which are the poetry of Heaven,

Of men and empires,-'tis to be forgiven,
That in our Aspirations to be great,
Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state,
And claim a kindred with you; for ye are
A Beauty and a Mystery, and create
In us such love and rev'rence from afar,

fate

That Fortune, Fame, Pow'r, Life, have nam'd themselves a star.

And unimaginable Ether! and

Ye multiplying masses of increas'd

And still-increasing Lights! what are ye? what
Is this blue wilderness of interminable

Air, where ye roll along, as I have seen

The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden
Is your course measur'd for ye? Or do ye
Sweep on in your unbounded Revelry
Through an aërial universe of endless
Expansion, at which my soul aches to think,
Intoxicated with Eternity?

Oh God! Oh Gods! or whatsoe'er ye are!
How beautiful ye are! how beautiful
Your works, or accident, or whatsoe'er

They may be! Let me die, as atoms die,
(If that they die) or know ye in your Might

And Knowledge! My thoughts are not in this hour
Unworthy what I see, though my dust is;
Spirit! let me expire, or see them nearer.

HAT involution! what extent! what swarms

W of worlds, that laugh at Earth! immensely great!

Immensely distant from each other's spheres;
What, then, the wondrous Space through which they roll?
At once it quite engulphs all human thought;
'Tis comprehension's absolute Defeat.

The Heavens. Young.

HIS Prospect vast, what is it?-weigh'd aright,
Tis Nature's system of Divinity,

And every student of the Night inspires.

"Tis elder Scripture, writ by God's own hand:
Scripture authentic! uncorrupt by man.

THAT

Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh;
Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew,

And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue;
Still sways their Souls with that commanding art
That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart.
What is that Spell, that thus his lawless train
Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain ?
What should it be that thus their faith can bind?
The power of Thought-the magic of the Mind!
Link'd with success, assum'd and kept with skill,
That moulds another's weakness to its will;
Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown,
Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own.
Such hath it been-shall be-beneath the sun
The many still must labour for the one!

'Tis Nature's doom-but let the wretch who toils
Accuse not, hate not him who wears the spoils;
Oh! if he knew the Weight of splendid chains,
How light the Balance of his humbler pains!

The Hero. ·Joanna Baillie.
Ev'N to the dullest Peasant standing by,
Who fasten'd still on him a wondering Eye,
He seem'd the master spirit of the Land.
Heroism. — Shakespeare.

HAVE, thou gallant Trojan, seen thee oft,
Labouring for destiny, make cruel way