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The most lasting families have only their seasons, more or less of a certain constitutional strength. They have their spring and summer sunshine glare, their wane, decline, and death: they flourish and shine perhaps for ages; at last they sicken: their light grows pale, and, at a crisis when the off-sets are withered and the old stock is blasted, the whole tribe disappears. There are limits ordained to every thing under the sun. Man will not abide in honour. Of all human vanities, family pride is one of the weakest. Reader, go thy way; secure thy name in the book of life, where the page fades not, nor the title alters nor expires—leave the rest to Heralds and the Parish Register,

BORLASE.