"Cui lecta potenter erit res,
Nec facundia deseret hunc, nec lucidus ordo."-HORACE.
THOU of commanding presence, with a tongue
Of fire, around whose lips in infancy
Cluster'd in honied swarms the Attic bee,
Shun the debate: rise not to speak among
Thy co-mates: spurn the incense of the
Spin not from slender base fine sophistry,
Like to the worm, that fastening on the tree,
In empty air its fragile thread hath flung.
Let Knowledge' sure foundations deep be laid:
Order and Thought on all thy studies tend:
Take virgin Truth for thine Egerian maid :
Not as a trenchant faulchion, but a shield,
Aristotelian weapons learn to wield :*
Conviction, not persuasion, be thine end.
*So Faulconbridge says:
"Which tho' I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn."
"First cast out the beam out of thine own eye."-St. Matt. vii. 5.
"Est proprium stultitiæ aliorum vitia cernere; oblivisci suorum."CICERO.
YOUNG patriot! who in after times shall make
Laws for the people, in the Senate rise,
Not like the forum-lawyer, Belial-wise,
To twist the worse the better form to take;
Nor for a momentary triumph's sake
Seek by sarcastic jest the short surprise ;
Nor think thine adversary always lies;
Nor harp for ever on thy foe's mistake.
But thine own Party's failings oft-times weigh,
(If Government through Party must be wrought;)
Learn the just value of each claptrap name;
Urge not the mob to constant change, nor stay
Thy needful yielding till the gift be nought;—
So shalt thou earn the real Statesman's name.
Is that poor man who hangs on princes' favours."-Henry VIII.
"Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate,
Noctes atque dies niti præstante labore,
Ad summas emergere opes, rerumque potiri.
O miseras hominum mentes! O pectora cæca!
Qualibus in tenebris vitæ quantisque periclis
Digitur hoc ævi quodcunque 'st."-Lucretius, 1. i.
"Wherefore I prayed, and understanding was given me: I called upon God, and the spirit of wisdom came to me. I preferred her before sceptres and thrones, and esteemed riches nothing in comparison of her.' -Book of Wisdom, vii. 7, 8.
"I charge thee, fling away ambitionBy that sin fell the angels."-Henry VIII.
GREAT God! that men should stoop, cringe, toil, and
Lie, flatter, sell their honour and their soul,
For a vain title, or a ribbon-roll,
A garter, or a star, or coronet,
And gnaw their hearts in anger or regret,
Because their peer or younger brother stole,
By the same arts, before them to the goal;
As if Life had no nobler aim ; and yet
The Learning of the Past unmaster'd lies:
Coy Nature courts their cunning to unseal
Her charms, her magic, and her mysteries
In ocean, earth, and midnight's starry skies;
And the Poor's wants shout for the common-weal
With a voice louder than a thunder-peal.
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed
A pillar of state; deep on his front engraven,
Deliberation sat and public care."-Paradise Lost.
"Mordear opprobriis falsis mutemque colores?
Falsus honor juvat et mendax infamia terret
Quem nisi mendosum et medicandum?"-HORACE.
"No might nor greatness in mortality
Can censure 'scape; back-wounding calumny
The whitest virtue strikes.
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?"
UNLESS thine be that calm high fortitude
Which can long suffer slander with disdain,
Leaving to Time the Avenger to maintain
Thy motives, purity, and love of good :
Unless thou be of that unplastic mood
Which bends not to the Expedient to gain
The triumph of to-day; unless thy fane
Be Right unless thou lov'st the multitude
Even with a father's love; their fickle breath
Not courting; and not fearing to withstand
Their fury, though thou know'st their hate is death:
Unless Peace be the watchword on thy lip,
Justice the sword and sceptre in thy hand,
Tempt not the dangerous craft of statesmanship.
"Hic murus aheneus esto,
Nil conscire sibi, nullâ pallescere culpâ."-HORACE.
"Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore."-HORACE.
HE who would stand from out the rank and file
Of
men, let him well steel him 'gainst man's scorn
And calumny; take cross and crown of thorn.
As some bold promontory's lonely pile,
Stretching out oceanward for many a mile,
Stands by the fretful waves, spat on and torn,
Is he who in his fellows' van hath borne
The banner of Opinion, without guile.
Hold on, brave heart! Though on the mountainpeak
Thy cell of banishment and solitude,
Earth's storms are under foot, calm Heav'n o'erhead:
Pilgrims unborn thine honour'd grave shall seek:
All hearts, all time, bear record of thy good:
Christ lives; and Socrates was never dead.
|