like a subtle spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide:
If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,
She feels it instantly on every side.
_Immortality of the Soul: Feeling_. SIR J. DAVIES.

INSTRUCTION.

'Tis education forms the common mind:
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined.
_Moral Essays, Epistle I_. A. POPE.

Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown proposed as things forgot.
_Essay on Criticism_. A. POPE.

Most wretched men
Are cradled into poetry by wrong;
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
_Julian and Maddalo_. P.B. SHELLEY.

INVENTION.

Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam! afar
Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car;
Or on wide waving wings expanded bear
The flying-chariot through the field of air.
_The Botanic Garden, Pt. 1. Ch. I_. [1781]. E. DARWIN.

Electric telegraphs, printing, gas,
Tobacco, balloons, and steam,
Are little events that have come to pass
Since the days of the old _regime_.
And, spite of Lempriere's dazzling page,
I'd give--though it might seem bold--
A hundred years of the Golden Age
For a year of the Age of Gold.
_The Two Ages_. H.S. LEIGH.

What cannot art and industry perform,
When science plans the progress of their toil!
_The Minstrel_. J. BEATTIE.

For out of the old fieldes, as men saithe,
Cometh al this new corne fro yere to yere,
And out of old bookes, in good faithe,
Cometh al this new science that men lere.
_The Assembly of Foules_. CHAUCER.

JEALOUSY.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on....
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Trifle, light as air,
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives:
What phrenzy dictates, jealousy believes.
_Diome_. J. GAY.

Nor jealousy
Was understood, the injured lover's hell.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. V_. MILTON.

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend
From jealousy!
_Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

O jealousy,
Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom