The fastidious taste will find offence in the occasional vulgarisms, or what we now call slang, which not a few of our writers seem to have affected.

Language is the armory of the human mind, and at once contains the trophies of its past and the weapons of its future conquests.

He holds him with his glittering eye, And listens like a three years' child.

Men of genius are rarely much annoyed by the company of vulgar people, because they have a power of looking at such persons as objects of amusement of another race altogether.

And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise.

I feel as if God had, by giving the Sabbath, given fifty-two springs in every year.

Chance is but the pseudonym of God for those particular cases, which he does not choose to acknowledge openly with his own sign manual.