It is not better that what men desire should befall them; for it is disease that causes health; sweet, bitter; evil, good; hunger, satisfaction; fatigue, rest.

It is hard to fight with passion; for what it desires to happen, it buys with life.

One man to me is ten thousand, if he be the best. For what is their mind or sense? They follow [strolling] minstrels, and make the mob their schoolmaster, not knowing that the evil are many, the good few. For the best choose one thing in preference to all, eternal glory among mortals; but the many glut themselves like cattle. In Priene was born Bias, the son of Teutames, whose intelligence was superior to that of all others.

It were fitting that the Ephesians should hang themselves on reaching manhood, and leave the city to the boys; for that they cast out Hermodorus, the worthiest man among them, saying: "Let there be no one worthiest man among us; if there be, let him be elsewhere and with others."

Dogs bark at every one they do not know. A foolish man is wont to be scared at every [new] idea.

Justice will overtake the framers and abettors of lies.

With man, character is destiny.

There remaineth for men after death that which they neither hope for nor believe. Then they desire to rise and become guardians of the quick and the dead.

Polluted [murderers] are cleansed with blood, as if one, having stepped into mud, should wipe himself with mud.

GEORGE HERBERT.

HERBERT, GEORGE, an English clergyman and poet; born at Montgomery, Wales, April 3, 1593; died at Bemerton, Wiltshire, in February, 1632. He was educated at Westminster and afterward at Trinity College, Cambridge, of which he was elected Fellow in 1615, and Public Orator in 1619. He was ordained deacon about 1622, but for some years hesitated about being ordained. Upon his ordination in 1626 he was made Prebendary of Leighton Ecclesia. In 1630 Charles I. presented him with the living of Bemerton, near Salisbury, which he held until his death two years afterward. Herbert was known as "the holy George Herbert." Among Herbert's works (none of which were published during his lifetime) are "The Priest to the Temple," in prose, "Outlandish Proverbs, Sentences," etc., collected and translated from a variety of sources; "The Church Militant," in verse; and "The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations." This last, by far the most important of Herbert's works, met with universal favor, not less than twenty thousand copies having been sold within a few years of its publication; and it still holds its place in public estimation.

THE COLLAR.

(From "The Temple.")

I STRUCK the board and cried, "No more!
I will abroad.

What, shall I ever sigh and pine?

My lines and life are free; free as the road,
Loose as the wind, as large as store.

Shall I be still in suit?

Have I no harvest but a thorn

To let me blood, and not restore
What I have lost with cordial fruit?

Sure, there was wine

Before my sighs did dry it: there was corn
Before my tears did drown it.

Is the year only lost to me?
Have I no bays to crown it?

No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?
All wasted?

Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,
And thou hast hands.

Recover all thy sigh-blown age

On double pleasures; leave thy cold dispute
Of what is fit and not; forsake thy cage,
Thy rope of sands,

Which petty thoughts have made, and make to thee
Good cable, to enforce and draw,
And be thy law,

While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.
Awake, take heed:

I will abroad.

Call in thy death's-head there: tie up thy fears.
He that forbears

To suit and serve his need,

Deserves his load."

But as I raved, and grew more fierce and wild
At every word,

Methought I heard one calling, "Child!"
And I replied, "My Lord!"

LOVE.

LOVE bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of lust and sin.

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
"If I lacked anything."

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here." Love said, "You shall be he."

"I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear, I cannot look on Thee."

Love took my hand, and smiling, did reply, "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marred them:

Go where it doth deserve."

"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"

"My dear, then I will serve."

"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my

So I did sit and eat.

meat."

THE ELIXIR.

TEACH me, my God and King,
In all things thee to see,
And what I do in anything,
To do it as for thee.

Not rudely, as a beast,

To run into an action;

But still to make thee prepossest,

And give it his perfection.

A man that looks on glass,

On it may stay his eye;

Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass,

And then the heaven espy.

All may of thee partake:

Nothing can be so mean,

Which with his tincture (for thy sake)
Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine:

Who sweeps a room as for thy laws
Makes that and th' action fine.

This is the famous stone

That turneth all to gold:

For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for less be told.

THE PILGRIMAGE.

I TRAVELLED on, seeing the hill where lay
My expectation.

A long it was and weary way.

The gloomy cave of Desperation

I left on the one, and on the other side
The rock of Pride.

And so I came to Fancy's meadow, strowed
With many a flower;

Fain would I here have made abode,

But I was quickened by my hour.

So to Care's copse I came, and there got through With much ado.

That led me to the wild of Passion, which
Some call the wold;

A wasted place, but sometimes rich.
Here I was robbed of all my gold,
Save one good angel,' which a friend had tied
Close to my side.

At length I got unto the gladsome hill
Where lay my hope,

Where lay my heart; and climbing still,
When I had gained the brow and top
A lake of brackish waters on the ground
Was all I found.

With that, abashed and struck with many a sting
Of swarming fears,

I fell, and cried, "Alas, my King!

Can both the way and end be tears?"
Yet taking heart, I rose, and then perceived
I was deceived.

My hill was farther; so I flung away,
Yet heard a cry

Just as I went, "None goes that

And lives."

way

"If that be all," said I,

"After so foul a journey, death is fair,

And but a chair."

THE PULLEY.

WHEN God at first made man,

Having a glass of blessings standing by,

"Let us," said he, "pour on him all we can: Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,

Contract into a span."

So Strength first made a way;

Then Beauty flowed, then Wisdom, Honor, Pleasure:
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that alone of all his treasure
Rest in the bottom lay.

"For if I should," said he,

"Bestow this jewel also on my creature,
He would adore my gifts instead of me,
And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:
So both should losers be.

1 A gold angel was a piece of money of the value of ten shillings, bearing the

figure of an angel.