Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as others see us; It wad frae monie a blunder free us And foolish notion! BURNS. WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER? GENTLEMAN. 1. You kiss not where you wish to kill, You feign not love where most you hate, You break no sleep to win your will, You wait not at the mighty's gate. LORD VAUX. 2. E'en your failings lean to virtue's side. GOLDSMITH. 3. Polite, yet virtuous, you have brought away The manners, not the morals of the day. COWPER. 4. _Thou_ art slow to science; the chart and letter'd page Have in them no deep spell whereby thy spirit to engage; But rather thou wouldst sail thy boat, or sound thy bugle-horn, Or track the sportsman's triumph through the fields of waving corn, Than o'er the ponderous histories of other ages bend, Or dwell upon the sweetest page that ever poet penn'd. MRS. NORTON. 5. A spider you may best be liken'd to, Which creature is an adept, not alone In workmanship of nice geometry, But is beside a wary politician. TAYLOR. 6. I know thee brave,-- A counsellor subtle, and a leader proved,-- With wisdom fitting for a king's right hand; Firm in resolve, nor from thy purpose moved: Then what lack'st thou to render thee beloved? Thou'st wooed and won a gentle heart, and more,-- Hast trampled it to dust. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. 7. I would rather wed a man of dough, Such as some school-girl, when the pie is made, To amuse her childish fancy, kneads at hazard Out of the remnant paste. JOHN TOBIN. 8. Thou, with a lofty soul, whose course The thoughtless oft condemn, Art touch'd by many airs from heaven Which never breathe on them. Moved too by many impulses, Which they do never know, Who round their earth-bound circles plod The dusty paths below. ALBERT G. GREENE. 9. You look the whole world in the face, For you owe not any man. LONGFELLOW. 10. You loiter, lounge, are lank and lazy, Though nothing ails you, yet uneasy; Your days insipid, dull, and tasteless, Your nights unquiet, long, and restless; And e'en your sports at balls and races, Your galloping through public places, Have sic parade, and pomp, and art, The joy can scarcely reach the heart. BURNS--_Twa Dogs_. 11. Thou'st never bent at glory's shrine, To wealth thou'st never bow'd the knee, Beauty has heard no vows of thine, Thou lovest _ease_. R. H. WILDE. 12. A gentleman of all Temperance. _Measure for Measure._