To speak the ceremonial rites of marriage.
C. Taming of the Shrew. Act III. Sc. 2.

All day, like some sweet bird, content to sing

In its small cage, she moveth to and fro-
And ever and anon will upward spring
To her sweet lips, fresh from the fount
below,

The murmured melody of pleasant thought,
Unconscious uttered, gentle-toned and low.
Light household duties, ever more inwrought
With placid fancies of one trusting heart
That lives but in her smile, and turns
From life's cold seeming and the busy mart,
With tenderness, that heavenward

yearns

ever

To be refreshed where one pure altar burns, Shut out from hence the mockery of life; Thus liveth she content, the meek, fond, trusting wife.

d. ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH-The Wife.

The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages.

.e. SWIFT--Thoughts on Various Subjects.

As the husband is the wife is; thou art mated with a clown,

And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.

f. TENNYSON --Locksley Hall. St. 24. Marriages are made in Heaven.

g. TENNYSON-Aylmer's Field. Line 198.

Thrice happy is that humble pair,

MEDITATION.

The art of meditation may be exercised at all hours, and in all places; and men of genius, in their walks, at table, and amidst assemblies, turning the eye of the mind inwards, can form an artificial solitude; retired amidst a crowd, calm amidst distraction, and wise amidst folly.

Ic.

ISAAC DISRAELI-Literary Character of Men of Genius. Ch. XI. Thy thoughts to nobler meditations give, And study how to die, not how to live, 1. GEO. GRANVILLE (Lord Lansdowne)--Meditation on Death.

Happy the heart that keeps its twilight hour, And, in the depths, of heavenly peace reclined,

Loves to commune with thoughts of tender power,

Thoughts that ascend, like angels beautiful, A shining Jacob's-ladder of the mind! m. PAUL H. HAYNE-Sonnet IX.

This evening late, by them the chewing flocks

Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb
Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold,
I sat me down to watch upon a bank
With ivy canopied, and interwove
With flaunting honeysuckle, and began
Rapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy.
n. MILTON Comus. Line 540.
He is divinely bent to meditation;
And in no worldly suits would he be mov'd,
To draw him from his holy exercise.
0. Richard III. Act III. Sc. 7.
In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
p.
Midsummer Night's Dream.

Act II. Sc. 2.

We met 'twas in a crowd.

7. THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY-We Met.

The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
S. LONGFELLOW--Morituri Salutamus.
In life there are meetings which seem
Like a fate.

t.

OWEN MEREDITH-Lucile. Pt. II.
Canto III. St. 8.

Some day, some day of days, threading the

street

With idle, heedless pace,
Unlooking for such grace,
I shall behold your face!

Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet.

น. NORA PERRY-Some Day of Days.

Might easiliest harbour in?

J. Cymbeline. Act IV. Sc. 2.

Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee

Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep? Why dost thou bend thy eyes upon the earth; And start so often when thou sitt'st alone? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;

And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,

To thick-ey'd musing and curs'd melancholy? k. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act II. Sc. 3.

The greatest note of it is his melancholy. Much Ado About Nothing. Act III.

1.

Se. 2.

DAWSON-Address on Opening the Birmingham Free Library, Oct. 26th, 1866.

Remember Milo's end, Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.

WENTWORTH DILLON (Earl of Roscommon)-Essay on Translated Verse. Line 87.

It is the treasure-house of the mind, wherein the monuments thereof are kept and preserved.

8. FULLER-The Holy and Profane States. Memory.

Memory, like a purse, if it be over-full that it cannot shut, all will drop out of it; take heed of a gluttonous curiosity to feed on many things, lest the greediness of the appetite of thy memory spoil the digestion thereof.

t. FULLER-Rules for Improving the Memory.

As the dew to the blossom, the bud to the bee,

As the scent to the rose, are those memories to me.

q.

AMELIA B. WELBY-Pulpit Eloquence. The dust is old upon my "sandal-shoon," And still I am a pilgrim; I have roved From wild America to spicy Ind, And worshipp'd at innumerable shrines Of beauty; and the painter's art, to me, And sculpture, speak as with a living tongue, And of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, Sitting amid their ruins.

2". WILLIS - Florence Gray.

How bright and fair that afternoon returns When last we parted! Even now I feel Its dewy freshness in my soul.

S.

JOHN WILSON -The City of the Plague. The vapours linger round the Heights, They melt, and soon must vanish; One hour is theirs, nor more is mineSad thought, which I would banish, But that I know, where'er I go, Thy genuine image, Yarrow! Will dwell with me-to heighten joy, And cheer my mind in sorrow. WORDSWORTH-Yarrow Visited.

t.

Yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. MILTON-Paradise Lost. Bk. X. Line 77. Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept Essential love.

y.

POLLOK-The Course of Time. Bk. III. All-Percading Wisdom