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dawning of immortal life in that childish soul! Farewell, beloved child! the bright eternal doors have closed after thee; we shall see thy sweet face no more. Oh! woe for them who watched thy entrance into heaven, when they shall wake and find only the cold grey sky of daily life, and thou gone for ever! Mrs. Stowe.

DEATH-BED-of the Just.

The death-bed of the just is yet undrawn
By mortal hand,-it merits a divine.
Angels should paint it,-angels ever there,-
There on a post of honour and of joy.
A death-bed's a detector of the heart;-
Here tired Dissimulation drops her mask:
Virtue alone has majesty in death. Young.

DEATH-BED-Repentance on a.

"Fool! fool! fool!" were the last words of one on his dying bed, who, it is to be feared, had procrastinated his repentance too long and too fearfully; while the humble Christian, sensible of a thousand failings and imperfections, still looks with the eye of faith on his Redeemer; and his soul, like the flight of an eagle towards the heavens, soars to the regions of everlasting happiness. Jesse.

Whatever stress some may lay upon it, a death-bed repentance is but a weak and slender plank to trust our all upon. Sterne.

DEATH-BED-Secrets of the.

It is a fearful thing to wait and watch for the approach of death; to know that hope is gone, and recovery impossible; and to sit and count the dreary hours through long, long nights, such nights as only watchers by the bed of sickness know. It chills the blood to hear the dearest secrets of the heart-the pentup, hidden secrets of many years-poured forth by the unconscious, helpless being before you; and to think how little the reserve and cunning of a whole life will avail when fever and delirium tear off the mask at last. Strange tales have been told in the wanderings of dying men; tales so full of guilt and crime, that those who stood by the sick person's couch have fled in horror and affright, lest they should be scared to madness by what they heard and saw; and many a wretch has died alone, raving of deeds the very name of which has driven the boldest man away. Dickens.

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DEBT-Keeping out of.

"Out of debt, out of danger," is, like many other proverbs, full of wisdom; but the word danger does not sufficiently express all that the warning demands.


To one that is not callous, a state of debt and embarrassment is a state of positive misery; the sufferer is as one haunted by an evil spirit, and his heart can know neither rest nor peace till it is cast out. But as example is at all times more instructive than precept, a living writer shall describe his own feelings when beset with creditors, and may he prove a beacon to the thoughtless ones who are likely to fall into the same gulf.

Quiet was never my destiny. The first involvement multiplies itself at every move. It destroys the freedom of the intellect and the heart, and drives one into a state of mistiness, which seeks extrication by the very means which augment it. It encourages self-delusions for the sake of momentary peace; and, like inebriety, buys oblivion at the expense of quickly-succeeding pain and sickness. The creditor, who thinks himself sure of his debt at last, delights in giving credit, because he has his debtor at his mercy, makes his own usurious terms with him, and gorges on his blood. He who lives on credit does not dare examine bills; and the creditor charges according to the degree of his own wide conscience. Thus there is a difference of at least cent. per cent. in every article the debtor consumes; and two thousand pounds a-year with him, will not go so far as one in the hands of him who pays ready money, and looks to his accounts.

Pecuniary embarrassment weakens and chains the mind; and, perhaps, the worst effect of all is in the indignities to which it subjects its victim. There is no rule of life, therefore, more urgent than to avoid it; nor has a careless man the slightest suspicion of what may be the effect of overlooking a comparatively slight error. Bridges

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DEBT-Miseries of.

Debt haunts the mind: a conversation about justice troubles it; the sight of a creditor fills it with confusion; even the sanctuary is not a place of refuge. The borrower is servant to the lender. A life at another man's table is not to be accounted for a life. It is mean to flatter the rich; it is humiliating to be the object of pity. To be the slave of unattainable desires is to be despicable and wretched. Independence, so essential to the virtues and pleasures of a man, can only be maintained by setting bounds to our desires, and owing no man anything. A habit of boundless expense undermines and destroys the virtues even in a mind where they seem to dwell. It becomes difficult, and at last impossible, to pay punetually. When a man of sensibility thinks of the low rate at which his word must henceforth pass, he is little in his own eyes; but


DEBTOR-and Creditor.

The greatest of all distinctions in civil life is that of debtor and creditor; and there needs no great progress in logic to know which, in that case, is the advantageous side. He who can say to another, "Pray, master," or "Pray, my lord, give me my own," can as justly tell ham, "It is a fantastical distinction you take pon you, to pretend to pass upon the world for my master or lord, when, at the same time that I wear your livery, you owe me wages; or, while I wait at your door, you are ashamed to see me until you have paid my bill." Steele.

dificulties prompt him to study deceiving as an art, and at last he lies to his creditors without a blush. How desolate and how woful does his mind appear, now that the fence of truth is broken down! Friendship is next dissolved He felt it once; he now insinuates himself by means of professions and senti!ments which were once sincere. He seizes the moment of unsuspecting affection to ensnare the friends of his youth, borrowing money which he never will pay, and binding them for debts which they must hereafter answer. At

this rate he sells the virtuous pleasures of loving and being beloved. He swallows up the provision of aged parents, and the portion of Esters and brethren. The loss of truth is

followed by the loss of humanity. His calls Ah, that Deceit should steal such gentle shapes,

DECEIT-a Serpent.

are still importunate. He proceeds to fraud,
and walks on precipices. Ingenuity, which in
a better cause might have illustrated his name,
is exerted to evade the law, to deceive the
world, to cover poverty with the appearance of
wealth, to sow unobserved the seeds of fraud.

And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice!
Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
And sting the luckless foot that presses them?
There are who in the path of social life,
Do bask their spotted skins in fortune's sun,
And sting the soul.
Joanna Baillie.

DEBTS-Neglect of.

A man who owes a little can clear it off in a rery little time, and, if he is a prudent man, will; whereas a man who, by long negligence, owes a great deal, despairs of ever being able to pay, and therefore never looks into his accounts at all. Chesterfield.


DEBTS-Payment of.

Paying of debts is, next to the grace of God, the best means in the world to deliver you from a thousand temptations to sin and vanity. Pay your debts, and you will not have wherewithal to buy a costly toy or a pernicious pleasure. Pay your debts, and you will not have what to lose to a gamester. In short, pay your debts, and you will of necessity abstain from many indulgences that war against the spirit, and bring you into captivity to sin, and cannot fail to end in your utter destruction, both of soul and body. Delany.

DECEIT-Entanglement of.
Oh! what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive.
Sir Walter Scott.

Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell.

DECEIT-Hypocrisy of.
What man so wise, what earthly wit so rare,

As to descry the crafty, cunning train

By which Deceit doth mask in visor fair,

And seem like Truth, whose shape she well can feign. Spenser.

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DECISION-Steadfastness in.

Sighs, groans, and tears proclaim his inward pains,

But the firm purpose of his heart remains.


DEFERENCE-Modesty of.


Deference often shrinks and withers much upon the approach of intimacy, as the sensitive plant does upon the touch of one's finger. Shenstone.


Men first make up their minds (and the smaller the mind the sooner made up), and DEGENERACY-Public.

seek for the reasons; and if they chance to stumble upon a good reason, of course they do not reject it. But though they are right, they are only right by chance. Whately.

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And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me as I halt by 'em.
Why I, in this weak, this piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away my hours,
Unless to see my shadow in the sun,
And descant on my own deformity:
Then since this earth affords no joy to me,
But to command, to check, and to o'erbear

As are of happier person than myself,—

Why, then, to me this restless world's but

'Till this misshapen trunk's aspiring head
Be circled in a glorious diadem-
But then 'tis fix'd on such a height: oh! I
Must stretch the utmost reaching of my soul.

These our times are not the same, Aruntiu,
These men are not the same; 'tis we are base,
Poor, and degenerate from th' exalted strain
Of our great fathers :-where is now the soul
Of godlike Cato? he that durst be good,
When Cæsar durst be evil; and had power,
Scorning to live his slave, to die his master!
Or where's the constant Brutus that, being

Against all charm of the benefits, did strike
So brave a blow into the monster's heart,
That sought unkindly to enslave his country?
Oh! they are fled the light! those mighty

Lie rack'd up with their ashes in their urns,
And not a spark of their eternal fire
Glows in a present bosom. All's but blaze,
Flashes and smoke, wherewith we labour so,
There's nothing Roman in us; nothing good,
Gallant, or great; 'tis true what Cordus says,
Brave Cassius was the last of all the race.


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DESERT-Aridity of the.

The weary Arabs roam from plain to plain,
Guiding the languid herd in quest of food;
And shift their little homes' uncertain scene
With frequent farewell: strangers, pilgrims all,

As were their fathers. No sweet fall of rain
May there be heard, nor sweeter liquid lapse
of rivers, o'er the pebbles gliding by
In murmurs: goaded by the rage of thirst,
Daily they journey to the distant clefts
Of craggy rocks, where gloomy palms o'erhang
Th' ancient walls, deep sunk by toil immense,
Toil of the patriarchs, with sublime intent
Themselves and their posterity to serve. Dyer

So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend, Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend, Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play, Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away;

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our aspiration after an object which we already secretly possess, It is thus than an intense anticipation transforms a real possibility into an imaginary reality. When such a tendency is decided in us, at each stage of our development a portion of our primitive desire accomplishes itself, under favourable circumstances, by direct means; and in unfavourable circumstances, by some more circuitous route, from which, however, we never fail to reach the Goethe. straight road again.

DESIRES-Insatiability of.

Every desire bears its death in its very gratification. Curiosity languishes under repeated stimulants, and novelties cease to excite surprise, until at length we cannot wonder even at a miracle. Washington Irving.

DESIRES-Shadows of.

The shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed. Dickens.


The passions and desires, like the two twists of a rope, mutually mix one with the other, and twine inextricably round the heart; producing good, if moderately indulged; but certain destruction, if suffered to become inordinate. Barton.


From low to high doth desolation climb, And sinks from high to low along the scale Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail. A musical but melancholy chime,

Which they can hear who meddle not with crime, Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care.


DESOLATION-of a House.
Such a house broke !
So noble a master fallen? all gone! and not
One friend to take his fortune by the arm,
And go along with him.
DESOLATION-of the Lone One.
Unhappy he! who from the first of joys-
Society-cut off, is left alone

Amid this world of death. Day after day,
Sad on the jutting eminence he sits,
And views the main that ever toils below;
Still fondly forming in the farthest verge,
Where the round ether mixes with the ware,
Ships, dim-discover'd, dropping from the clouds;
At evening, to the setting sun he turns
A mournful eye, and down his dying heart
Sinks helpless.

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