Each with a gigantic stride,
Trampling on all the flourishing works of peace
To make his greatness greater, and inscribe
His name in blood.

Rogers's Italy.

HOME.

My country, sir, is not a single spot
Of such a mould, or fixed to such a clime;
No, 'tis the social circle of my friends,
The lov'd community in which I'm link'd,
And in whose welfare all my wishes centre.

Miller's Mahomet.

The land was beautiful

Fair rose the spires, and gay the buildings were,
And rich the plains, like dreams of blessed isles;
But, when I heard my country's music breathe,
I sigh'd to be among her wilds agian!

Maturin's Fredolfo.

Let me live amongst high thoughts, and smiles

As beautiful as love; with grasping hands,

And a heart that flutters with diviner life

Whene'er my step is heard.

Proctor's Mirandola, a. 1, s. 2.

The first sure symptom of a mind in health,
Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home.

Young's Night Thoughts, n. 8.

Home is the resort

Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where
Supporting, and supported, polish'd friends,
And dear relations mingle into bliss.

Thomson's Seasons-Autumn.

The touch of kindred too and love he feels;
The modest eye, whose beams on his alone
Extatic shine: the little strong embrace
Of prattling children, twin'd around his neck,
And emulous to please him, calling forth
The fond paternal soul. Nor purpose gay,
Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly scorns;
For happiness and true philosophy

Are of the social, still, and smiling kind.
This is the life which those who fret in guilt,
And guilty cities, never know; the life,
Led by primeval ages, uncorrupt,

When angels dwelt, and God himself, with man!
Thomson's Seasons-Autumn.

His warm but simple home, where he enjoys
With her who shares his pleasures and hi sheart,
Cowper's Task, b. 3.

Sweet converse.

HONESTY.

Heav'n that made me honest, made me more

Than ever king did, when he made a lord.

Rowe's Jane Shore, a. 2, s. 1.

Wants little of the villain.

The man who pauses on his honesty

Martyn's Timoleon.

Honesty,

A name scarce echo to a sound-Honesty!
Attend the stately chambers of the great-
It dwells not there, nor in the trading world:
Speaks it in councils? No; the sophist knows
To laugh it thence.

Havard's Scanderbeg.

Take heed what you say, sir, An hundred honest men! why if there were So many i' th' city, 'twere enough to forfeit

Their charter.

H

Shirley's Gamester.

HONOR.

Love's common unto all the mass of creatures,
As life and breath; honor to man alone:
Honor being then above life, dishonor must
Be worse than death; for fate can strike but one;
Reproach doth reach whole families.

Cartwright's Siege.

Is nice as ermine, will not bear a soil.

Woman's honor

Dryden's Don Sebastian.

Honor's a sacred tie, the law of kings,
The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,

That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets her,
And imitates her actions where she is not:

It is not to be sported with.

Addison's Cato.

Honour's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienced men

To real mischief, while they hunt a shadow.

Ibid.

Better to die ten thousand deaths

Than wound

my

honor.

Ibid.

Honor, my
lord, is much too proud to catch
At every slender twig of nice distinctions.
These for th' unfeeling vulgar may do well:
But those, whose souls are by the nicer rule
Of virtuous delicacy nobly sway'd,

Stand at another bar than that of laws.

Thomson's Tancred and Sigismunda, a. 5, s. 7.

What is honor? A silly vain opinion,
That hangs but on the rabble's idle breath,

For them we court it, yet by them 'tis scorn'd.

Martyn's Timoleon.

How vain are all hereditary honors,
Those poor possessions from another's deeds,
Unless our own just virtues form our title,
And give a sanction to our fond assumptions.

Shirley's Parricide.

The honors of a name 'tis just to guard:
They are a trust but lent us, which we take,
And should, in reverence to the donor's fame,

With care transmit them down to other hands. Ibid.

I've scann'd the actions of his daily life

With all th' industrious malice of a foe;

And nothing meets mine eye but deeds of honor.

Hannah More's Daniel, pt. 1.

HOPE.

Hope is the fawning traitor of the mind,

Which, while it cozens with a coloured friendship,
Robs us of our last virtue, resolution.

Lee's Constantine.

A beam of comfort, like the moon thro' clouds,
Gilds the black horror, and directs my way.
Dryden's Love Triumphant.

Multiplying wishes is a curse,

Dryden's Secret Love.

That keeps the mind perpetually awake.

'Tis the cruel artifice of fate,

Thus to refine and vary on our woes,

To raise us from despair, and gives us hopes,

Only to plunge us in the gulph again,

And make us doubly wretched. Trap's Abramule.

To-day, in snow array'd, stern winter rules
The enravag'd plain-anon the teeming earth

HONOR.

Love's common unto all the mass of creatures,
As life and breath; honor to man alone :
Honor being then above life, dishonor must
Be worse than death; for fate can strike but one;
Reproach doth reach whole families.

Cartwright's Siege.

Woman's honor

Is nice as ermine, will not bear a soil.

Dryden's Don Sebastian.

Honor's a sacred tie, the law of kings,

The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,

That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets her, And imitates her actions where she is not :

It is not to be sported with.

Addison's Cato.

Honour's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienced men
To real mischief, while they hunt a shadow.

Ibid.

Better to die ten thousand deaths
Than wound my honor.

Ibid.

Honor, my lord, is much too proud to catch
At every slender twig of nice distinctions.
These for th' unfeeling vulgar may do well:
But those, whose souls are by the nicer rule
Of virtuous delicacy nobly sway'd,

Stand at another bar than that of laws.

Thomson's Tancred and Sigismunda, a. 5, s. 7.

What is honor? A silly vain opinion,
That hangs but on the rabble's idle breath,

For them we court it, yet by them 'tis scorn'd.

Martyn's Timoleon.