The ear and the eye are the mind's receivers, but the tongue is only busy in expending the treasure received. If, therefore, the revenues of the mind be uttered as fast or faster than they are received, it must needs be bare, and can never lay up for purchase. But if the receivers take in still without utterance, the mind may soon grow a burden to itself, and unprofitable to others. I will not lay up too much and utter nothing, lest I be covetous; LOVE. Being vexed, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears. Shakspeare. Hail, holy love, thou word that sums all bliss, Gives and receives all bliss, fullest when most Thou givest! spring-head of all felicity, On earth mysterious, and mysterious still Hail, love! first love, thou word that sums all The sparkling cream of all time's blessedness; Pollok. It is to be all made of fantasy, Oh! must the cup that holds The sweetest vintage of the vine of life Taste bitter at the dregs? Is there no story, No legend, no love passage, which shall end Even as the bow that God hath bent in heaven, O'er the sad waste of mortal histories, Matthew Arnold. Love is not altogether a delirium, yet it has many points in common therewith. I call it rather a discerning of the infinite in the finite Carlyle. of the idea made real. A man seems never to know what anything means till he has lost it; and this, I suppose, is the reason why losses-vanishings away of things are among the teachings of this world of shadows. The substance, indeed, teacheth, Promising respite to the rain of tears. but the vacuity, whence it has disappeared, yet more. The full significancy of those words, property, ease, health,-the wealth of meaning that lies in the fond epithets, parent, child, friend, -we never know till they are taken away; till, in place of the bright, visible being, comes the awful and desolate shadow, where nothing is where we stretch our hands in vain, and strain our eyes upon dark and dismal vacuity. Still, in that vacuity, we do not lose the object that we loved; it only becomes more real to us. Thus do blessings not only brighten when they depart, but are fixed in enduring reality; and friendship itself receives its everlasting seal beneath the cold impress of death. Dewey. LOVE. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs, LOVE-Activity of. Love is ever busy with his shuttle, There's not a wild flower blossoming, With green blood dancing to a blush, But with love's tender feel doth flush. And there is not a heart on earth, That loves, but shall be loved again : Some other heart hath kindred birth, And aches with all the same sweet pain. The good God giveth love for all, The earnest heart to cheer and melt; As His own smiles of glory fall On hidden flowers, unseen, but felt! Then cheer thee, cheer thee, yearning oneKeep holy still that love of thine, Some spirit waiteth long and lone, For thee, its ministrant divine. LOVE-Ardour of. Massey. O love! when womanhood is in the flush, Are fair as light in heaven, or flowers in spring. LOVE-Attentions of. A warm affection within naturally inspires corresponding emotions without. These are a sort of setting of the jewel, which not only ornaments, but helps to preserve it. In all the refined passions, the delicacy of a sentiment insures our constancy even more than the strength of it. The nice observances-les petits soinswhich in such cases may be almost deemed petites morales, also increases the mutual pleasures and confidences of love and friendship. They are the "comets" which feed the "sun." Even virtue itself, all perfect as it is, requires to be inspirited by passion; for duties are but coldly performed, which are but philoMrs. Jameson. ophically fulfilled. LOVE-a Powerful Attraction. Thou demandest what is love? It is that powerful attraction towards all that we con ceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves. If we reason, we would be understood; if we imagine, we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within another's; if we feel, we would that another's nerves should vibrate to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once, and mix and melt into our own; that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips quivering and burning with the heart's best blood. This is love. This is the bond and the sanction which connects not only man with man, but with everything which exists. We are born into the world, and there is something within us which, from the instant that we live, more and more thirsts after its likeness. Shelley. LOVE-Concentrated. Dryden. Love! what a volume in a word! an ocean in a tear! a sigh ! We love a girl for very different things than understanding. We love her for her beauty, her youth, her mirth, her confidingness, her character, with its faults, caprices, and God knows A seventh heaven in a glance! a whirlwind in what other inexpressible charms; but we do not love her understanding. Her mind we esteem (if it is brilliant), and it may greatly elevate her in our opinion; nay more, it may enchain us when we already love. But her understand The lightning in a touch-a millennium in a moment! What concentrated joy, or woe, in bless'd or blighted love! Tupper. Which alters when it alteration finds, Of all passions in the world, love not only is the most tyrannical, and takes the deepest hold, but is also speediest in its transformation, and in its change of the scenery round us; nay, the scenery environing the heart. That love is the great sweetener of our existence-the active and stirring principle-the spring which sets everything in motion-the vivid awakener, exponent, and representation of all the finest, most delicate, and subtlest movements in our spiritual nature, who could deny? But it must differ in all minds; the tasteful can love but |