148.  HOR. 2 Ep. ii. 212.

  ‘Better one thorn pluck’d out, than all remain.’

149.  CAECIL. apud TULL.

  ’Who has it in her power to make men mad,
  Or wise, or sick, or well:  and who can choose
  The object of her appetite at pleasure.’

150.  JUV.  Sat. iii. 152.

  ’What is the scorn of every wealthy fool,
  And wit in rags is turn’d to ridicule.’

(Dryden).

151.  TULL. de Fin.

  ’Where pleasure prevails, all the greatest virtues will lose their
  power.’

152.  HOM.  Il. 6, v. 146.

  ‘Like leaves on trees the race of man is found.’

(Pope).

153.  TULL. de Senect.

’Life, as well as all other things, hath its bounds assigned by nature; and its conclusion, like the last act of a play, is old age, the fatigue of which we ought to shun, especially when our appetites are fully satisfied.’

154.  JUV.  Sat. ii. 83.

  ‘No man e’er reach’d the heights of vice at first.’

(Tate).

155.  HOR.  Ars Poet. v. 451.

  ’These things which now seem frivolous and slight,
  Will prove of serious consequence.’

(Roscommon).

156.  HOR. 2 Od. viii. 5.

  ’—­But thou,
  When once thou hast broke some tender vow,
  All perjured, dost more charming grow!’

157.  HOR. 2 Ep. ii. 187. Imitated.

’—­That directing power, Who forms the genius in the natal hour:  That God of nature, who, within us still, Inclines our action, not constrains our will.’

(Pope).

158.  MARTIAL, xiii. 2.

  ‘We know these things to be mere trifles.’

159.  VIRG.  AEn. ii. 604.

  ’The cloud, which, intercepting the clear light,
  Hangs o’er thy eyes, and blunts thy mortal sight,
  I will remove—­’

160.  HOR. 1 Sat. iv. 43.

  ’On him confer the Poet’s sacred name,
  Whose lofty voice declares the heavenly flame.’

161.  VIRG.  Georg. ii. 527.

  ’Himself, in rustic pomp, on holydays,
  To rural powers a just oblation pays;
  And on the green his careless limbs displays: 
  The hearth is in the midst:  the herdsmen, round
  The cheerful fire, provoke his health in goblets crown’d. 
  He calls on Bacchus, and propounds the prize,
  The groom his fellow-groom at buts defies,
  And bends his bow, and levels with his eyes: 
  Or, stript for wrestling, smears his limbs with oil,
  And watches with a trip his foe to foil. 
  Such was the life the frugal Sabines led;
  So Remus and his brother king were bred,
  From whom th’ austere Etrurian virtue rose;
  And this rude life our homely fathers chose;
  Old Rome from such a race derived her birth,
  The seat of empire, and the conquer’d earth.’

(Dryden).