Death Aims With Fouler Spiteat Fairer Marks.

The Birds Of The Air Die To Sustain Thee; The Beasts Of The Field Die To Nourish Thee; The Fishes Of The Sea Die To Feed Thee. Our Stomachs Are Their Common Sepulchre. Good God! With How Many Deaths Are Our Poor Lives Patched Up! How Full Of Death Is The Life Of Momentary Man!

Luxury Is An Enticing Pleasure, A Bastard Mirth, Which Hath Honey In Her Mouth, Gall In Her Heart, And A Sting In Her Tail.

The World Is Deceitful; Her End Is Doubtful, Her Conclusion Is Horrible, Her Judge Terrible, And Her Judgment Is Intolerable.

How Is The Anxious Soul Of Man Befool'd In His Desire, That Thinks An Hectic Fever May Be Cool'd In Flames Of Fire?

There Be Three Sorts Of Government--monarchical, Aristocratical, Democratical; And They Are Apt To Fall Three Several Ways Into Ruin--the First, By Tyranny; The Second, By Ambition; The Last, By Tumults. A Commonwealth Grounded Upon Any One Of These Is Not Of Long Continuance; But, Wisely Mingled, Each Guards The Other And Makes That Government Exact.