Error Is Ever Talkative.

It Is Not Easy To Recover An Art When Once Lost.

Here Let Me Sit In Sorrow For Mankind.

As Some Tall Cliff That Lifts Its Awful Form, Swells From The Vale, And Midway Leaves The Storm,- Though Round Its Breast The Rolling Clouds Are Spread, Eternal Sunshine Settles On Its Head.

The Hours We Pass With Happy Prospects In View Are More Pleasing Than Those Crowded With Fruition.

I Have Visited Many Countries, And Have Been In Cities Without Number, Yet Never Did I Enter A Town Which Could Not Produce Ten Or Twelve Little Great Men; All Fancying Themselves Known To The Rest Of The World, And Complimenting Each Other Upon Their Extensive Reputation.