m out.
_Paradise Regained, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

Speak no more:
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.
_Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind:
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
_K. Richard II., Act v. Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.

Leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her.
_Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5_. SHAKESPEARE.

Consideration, like an angel, came
And whipped the offending Adam out of him.
_K. Henry V., Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

True, conscious Honor is to feel no sin,
He's armed without that's innocent within;
Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of Brass.
_First Book of Horace, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

I know myself now; and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities;
A still and quiet conscience.
_K. Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

A quiet conscience makes one so serene!
Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded
That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
_Don Juan, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my Great Task-Master's eye.
_On being arrived at his Three-and-Twentieth Year_. MILTON.

And sure the eternal Master found
His single talent well employed.
_Verses on Robert Levet_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

CONSOLATION.

With silence only as their benediction,
God's angels come
Where in the shadow of a great affliction,
The soul sits dumb!
_To my Friend on the Death of his Sister_.
J.G. WHITTIER.

And, as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler,
Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
_Evangeline_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Sprinkled along the waste of years
Full many a soft green isle appears:
Pause where we may upon the desert road,
Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode.
_The Christian Year. The First Sunday in Advent_.
J. KEBLE.

O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls, whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again.
_Endymion_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Love is indestructible:
Its holy flame forever burneth:
From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth;

* * * * *

It soweth here with toil and care,
But the ha