6. For none more likes to hear himself converse.

8. Tho' modest, on his unembarrass'd brow Nature has written gentleman.

Byron.

9. Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit, For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned. Sole monarch of the universal earth.

10.

Shakespeare.

Some secret venom preys upon his heart;
A stubborn and unconquerable flame

Creeps in his veins, and drinks the streams of
life.

Rowe.

11.

Courteous and cautious, shrewd and sly.

Scott.

12.

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity.

Shakespeare.

13. With groundless fears he thus his soul deceives, What phrenzy dictates —jealousy believes.

14. All smiles, and bows, and courtesy was he.

15. Love is to his impassioned soul,
Not as with others, a mere part
Of his existence, but the whole,
The very life breath of his life.

J. T. Watson.

Moore.

16. Created half to rise, or half to fall,
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all,
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled,
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.

Pope.

17. Brief, brave, and glorious is his young career. Byron's Childe Harold.

18. His soul like bark with rudder lost,
On passion's changeful tide was tossed,
Nor vice, nor virtue had the power,
Beyond the impression of an hour.

Scott's Rokeby.

19.

20.

21.

While he lives

He'll know no bliss but that which virtue gives,
And when he dies, he'll leave a lofty name,
A light, a landmark on the cliffs of fame.

All made of fantasy,

All made of passion, and of wishes,

All adoration, duty and observance,

Moore.

All humbleness, all patience and impatience.

Shakespeare.

Describe him who can,

An abridgement of all that was pleasant in

man.

22. His limbs are cast in manly mould,
For hardy sports or contests bold;
His ready speech flows fair and free
In phrase of gentlest courtesy,

Goldsmith.

Yet seems that tone and gesture bland,
Less used to sue than to command.

Scott.

23. He is composed and framed of treachery.

Shakespeare.

24. A witty, wild, inconstant, free gallant.

Rowe.

So rich, so gay, so poignant in his wit,
Time vanishes before him as he speaks.

26. Not oft to smile descendeth he

And when he does 'tis sad to see

That he but mocks at misery.

Joanna Baillie.

Byron.

27. Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he.

Goldsmith.

28. The friend of man, the friend of truth,
The friend of age, the guide of youth.
Few hearts like his with virtue warmed,
Few heads with knowledge so informed.

Burns.

29. For his was not that blind capricious sage,
A word can kindle and a word assuage,
But the deep working of a soul unmixed
With aught of pity where its wrath had fix'd.
Byron.

30. His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire,
Show'd spirit proud, and prompt to ire;
Yet lines of thought upon his cheek
Did deep design, and counsel speak. Scott.

1.

QUESTION IX.

Where shall you reside?

A cold, heartless city

With its forms, and dull routine,

Its artificial manners, and arbitrary rules,
Its cheerless pleasures.

J. N. Barker.

2. A simple small cottage, a nest like a dove, The one only dwelling, on earth that you'll

love.

Wordsworth.

3. A neat little cottage in front of a grove.

4. Where laden carts with thundering wagons

meet,

Wheels clash with wheels, and bar the narrow

street.

Gay.