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many centuries back, came our philosophical Poet to trumpet forth the truth that “ Knowledge is the wing wherewith we fly to heaven.” Meanwhile millions of human beings have been born and died, who have hugged their own modicum of knowledge to their hearts as the greatest treasure the Deity blessed them with: yet now, even now, in the most civilized country on the face of the globe, “the envy of surrounding nations,” is this divine blessing cruelly monopolized by the few, and the masses of our brethren kept in a state of deplorable ignorance ; whilst some godly men are squabbling about whether certain formulæ or catechisms should not be forced upon the embryo aspirants after knowledge !

Shame! shame! Terrible indeed is the responsibility resting somewhere-and prompt should be the endeavours of all well wishers to their race to shift it off their own shoulders !

At this time of day, it would be superfluous to waste words on the inestimable happiness of knowledge. Man is immortal-knowledge is infinite, and therefore man's only satisfying enjoyment, (goodness of course excepted) for nothing finite can satisfy him, Goodness, then, being the one other grand enjoyment of his life, (and this involving love to his brethren) why does not he share his knowledge with his fellow-man? Let the friends of education be up and stirring: their reward will arrive sooner or later.

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Ferdinand. There be some sports are painful; but their

labour
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be
As heavy to me as 'tis odious; but
The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures.

Tempest. Act iii. Scene 1.

Julia. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps ;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection.

Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act ii. Scene 7.

Macbeth. The labour we delight in physics pain.

Macbeth, Act ii. Scene 3,

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Proteus. And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips, The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, Yet, spaniel-like,* the more she spurns my love, The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.

Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act iv. Scene 2.

ITS PUNCTUALITY

Eglamour. , Lovers break not hours,
Unless it be to come before their time;
Lo much they spur their expedition.

Ibid. Act v. Scene 1.

* The same comparison occurs in Midsummer Night's Dream.

CANNOT BE CONCEALED.

Olivia. A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid : love's night is noon.

Twelfth Night. Act iii Scene 1.

ITS CHARACTERISTICS.

Helena. Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ;
And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind :
Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste;
And therefore is love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.

Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i Scene l.

Lysander. Ah me! for ought that ever I could read, Could ever hear, by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth: But either it was different in blood, Or else misgraffed in respect of years, Or else it stood upon the choice of friends ; Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream ; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heav'n and earth, And ere a man hath power to say · Behold !' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.

Ibid.

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ITS POWERS.

Biron. But love, first learned in a lady's eyes,
Lives not alone immured in the brain;
But, with the motion of all elements,
Courses as swift as thought in every power ;
And gives to every power a double power,
Above their functions and their offices
It adds a precious seeing to the eye ;
A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind :
A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound,
When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd ;
Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible,
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails :
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste:
For valour, is not love a Hercules,
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides ?
Subtle as Sphinx ; as sweet and musical,
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ;
And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write,
Until his ink were temper'd with love's sighs ;
Oh, then his lines would ravish savage ears,
And plant in tyrants mild humility.
From women's eyes this doctrine s derive;
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academies,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.

Love's Labour's lost. Act iv. Scene 3.

LOVE BLIND.

Jessica. But love is blind ; and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit.

Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Scene 6,

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