Charity Is The Perfection And Ornament Of

There Is Not Any Present Moment That Is Unconnected With Some Future One. The Life Of Every Man Is A Continued Chain Of Incidents, Each Link Of Which Hangs Upon The Former. The Transition From Cause To Effect, From Event To Event, Is Often Carried On By Secret Steps, Which Our Foresight Cannot Divine, And Our Sagacity Is Unable To Trace. Evil May At Some Future Period Bring Forth Good; And Good May Bring Forth Evil, Both Equally Unexpected.

Ladies Are Always Of Great Use To The Party They Espouse, And Never Fail To Win Over Numbers To It. Lovers, According To Sir William Petty's Computation, Make At Least The Third Part Of Sensible Men Of The British Nation; And It Has Been An Uncontroverted Maxim In All Ages, That Though A Husband Is Sometimes A Stubborn Sort Of A Creature, A Lover Is Always At The Devotion Of His Mistress. By This Means, It Lies In The Power Of Every Fine Woman, To Secure At Least Half A Dozen Able-bodied Men To His Majesty's Service.

That Fine Part Of Our Construction, The Eye, Seems As Much The Receptacle And Seat Of Our Passions As The Mind Itself; And At Least It Is The Outward Portal To Introduce Them To The House Within, Or Rather The Common Thoroughfare To Let Our Affections Pass In And Out.

Marriage Enlarges The Scene Of Our Happiness And Miseries.

The Pride Of Woman, Natural To Her, Never Sleeps Until Modesty Is Gone.