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WAR.

A CRYING EVIL.

K. Henry V. Therefore take heed how you impawn our

person,

How you awake the sleeping sword of war;

We charge you in the name of God, take heed;

For never two such kingdoms did contend,

Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops
Are every one a woe, a sore complaint,

'Gainst him, whose wrongs give edge unto the swords
That make such waste in brief mortality.*

King Henry V. Act i. Scene 2.

WARLIKE SERVICES ESTIMATED.

Belarius.

The toil of the war,

A pain that only seems to seek out danger

I' the name of fame and honour: which dies i' the search:

And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph,

As record of fair act; nay, many times,

Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse

Must courtsey at the censure.

Cymbeline. Act iii. Scene 3.

A CONVICTION of the immorality of war, is fast spreading through all enlightened communities; and sensible peo

*The reader's mind will here naturally recur to the passage of Scripture," Offences must needs come, but woe to him from whom the offence cometh,"

ple begin to wonder how it was they ever came to think murder dignified by its being made wholesale. In England, I believe, an abhorrence of war is more widely felt through all classes than is generally imagined, and Dr. Channing's pamphlet cannot fail to produce a powerful effect on the other side of the Atlantic. Indeed, so much has the public mind of our nation in this respect changed for the better of late years, that I do believe the people would sternly set their face against war on any ground but the most solemn and patriotic principle.

WIT.

PLAYING UPON WORDS.

Clown. A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward! Twelfth Night. Act iii. Scene 1.

PUNNING A LOW DEGREE OF WIT.

Lorenzo. How every fool can play upon a word! I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence; and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots. Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Scene 5.

Polonius.

BREVITY THE SOUL OF WIT.

Brevity is the soul of wit;

And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes.

Hamlet. Act ii. Scene 2.

"How every fool can play upon a word!" says Shakspere: and was himself, of all men, most guilty of the folly! But, as I have elsewhere remarked, he sometimes fell into the temptation to which all dramatic authors are liable, of catering to the vulgar taste, though at the same time it might offend his own good judgment. Whole scenes will occur to the mind of any of his readers, consisting from beginning to end of little more than puns and quibbling on the meaning of words; yet Shakspere was a wit of the highest order. The truth is, when our Author descends from the dignity of his own intellect, he generally still contrives to show you, that it is either necessary for the keeping of his characters, or to please the taste of the day.

WOMAN.

HER WILL.

Ford. What they think in their hearts they may effect, They will break their hearts but they will effect.

Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Scene 2.

HER WIT.

Rosalind. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.

As you like it. Act iv. Scene 1.

HER RULI NG PASSION.

Old Lady. You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet

Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty!

King Henry VIII. Act ii. Scene 3.

HER QUALITIES.

York. "Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud;

"Tis virtue that doth make them most admired;

* "Make" for "Close," a provincialism still existing.

'Tis government * that makes them seem divine;

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Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible.

3rd part King Henry VI. Act i. Scene 4.

HER TEARS.

Sebastian. Fare ye well at once; my bosom is full of kindness; and I am yet so near the manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine eyes will tell tales of me.

Exeter.

Twelfth Night. Act ii. Scene 1.

Over Suffolk's neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips;
And so, espous'd to death, with blood he seal'd
A testament of noble ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forc'd

These waters from me, which I would have stopp'd;
But I had not so much of man in me,
But all my mother came into my eyes,
And gave me up to tears.

King Henry V. Act iv. Scene 6.

*Propriety of demeanour and amiable temper.

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