Go far too far you cannot, still the farther The more experience finds you: And go sparing;

One meal a week will serve you, and one suit, Through all your travels; for you'll find it certain,

The poorer and the baser you appear,
The more you look through still.
p.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER-The
Woman's Prize. Act IV.

Sc. 5. L. 199. I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.

As You Like It. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 135.

u.

You play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me.

k.

Henry VIII. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 126.

Is there a tongue like Delia's o'er her cup, That runs for ages without winding up? 1. YOUNG-Love of Fame. Satire I.

L. 281.

FULLER-The Holy and Profane States.
Of Travelling. Maxim IV.
One who journeying

Along a way he knows not, having crossed
A place of drear extent, before him sees
A river rushing swiftly toward the deep,
And all its tossing current white with foam,
And stops and turns, and measures back his
way.

a.

THOS. DUNN ENGLISH-Arnold at Stillwater. With evil omens from the harbour sails

The ill-fated ship that worthless Arnold bears;

God of the southern winds, call up thy gales, And whistle in rude fury round his ears. b.

PHILIP FRENEAU-Arnold's Departure. Rebellion must be managed with many swords; treason to his prince's person may be with one knife.

C. FULLER-The Holy and Profane States. The Traitor. Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason?

Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason. d. SIR JOHN HARRINGTON-Epigrams. Bk. IV. Ep. V. The man who pauses on the paths of treason, Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake:
The private wound is deepest.

Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.
Henry IV. Pt. II. Act IV. Sc. 2.
L. 122.
Tellest thou me of "ifs"? Thou art a traitor :
Off with his head!

But with his last attempt he wiped it out: Destroy'd his country, and his name remains To the ensuing age abhorr'd.

Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor Stands in worse case of woe.

t. Cymbeline. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 87.

To say the truth, so Judas kiss'd his master, And cried all hail!" whereas he meant all harm.

и.

Henry VI. Pt. III. Act V. Sc. 7.
L. 33.

Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause,
That admiration did not hoop at them.
Henry V. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 105.

บ.

Treason is but trusted like the fox

Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd and locked

up,

Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. W. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 2.

L. 9.

snows.

g. ALEX. SMITH-A Life-Drama. Sc. 2.

The laurell, meed of mightie conquerours

And poets sage; the firre that weepeth still; The willow, worne of forlorne paramours; The eugh, obedient to the bender's will; The birch, for shafts; the sallow for the mill;

The mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound;

The warlike beech; the ash for nothing ill; The fruitfull olive; and the platane round; The carver holme; the maple seldom inward sound.

h.

SPENSER-Faerie Queene. Bk. I. Canto I. St. 8. The woods appear With crimson blotches deeply dashed and crossed,

Sign of the fatal pestilence of Frost. i.

BAYARD TAYLOR-Mon-Da-Min. St. 38. Now rings the woodland loud and long, The distance takes a lovelier hue, And drowned in yonder living blue The lark becomes a sightless song.

j. TENNYSON-In Memoriam. Pt. CXV.

THOMSON-Seasons. Autumn. L. 950. Some to the holly hedge Nestling repair; and to the thicket some; Some to the rude protection of the thorn. THOMSON-Seasons. Spring. L. 634. Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery Thickets hail!

0.

Ye lofty Pines! ye venerable Oaks!
Ye Ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep!
Delicious is your shelter to the soul.

p. THOMSON-Seasons. Summer. L. 469. Sure thou did'st flourish once! and many springs,

Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers,

Passed o'er thy head; many light hearts and wings,

Which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers.

And still a new succession sings and flies; Fresh groves grow up, and their green branches shoot

Towards the old and still-enduring skies;
While the low violet thrives at their root.
q.
VAUGHAN-The Timber.

A brotherhood of venerable Trees.

T. WORDSWORTH-Sonnet composed at Castle -.