My Heart Leaps At The Trumpet's Voice.

Of All The Diversions Of Life, There Is None So Proper To Fill Up Its Empty Spaces As The Reading Of Useful And Entertaining Authors.

My Heart Leaps At The Trumpet's Voice.

Our Disputants Put Me In Mind Of The Cuttlefish That, When He Is Unable To Extricate Himself, Blackens The Water About Him Till He Becomes Invisible.

Men Of Warm Imaginations And Towering Thoughts Are Apt To Overlook The Goods Of Fortune Which Are Near Them, For Something That Glitters In The Sight At A Distance; To Neglect Solid And Substantial Happiness For What Is Showy And Superficial; And To Contemn That Good Which Lies Within Their Reach, For That Which They Are Not Capable Of Attaining. Hope Calculates Its Schemes For A Long And Durable Life; Presses Forward To Imaginary Points Of Bliss; Grasps At Impossibilities; And Consequently Very Often Ensnares Men Into Beggary, Ruin, And Dishonour.

Government Mitigates The Inequality Of Power, And Makes An Innocent Man, Though Of The Lowest Rank, A Match For The Mightiest Of His Fellow-subjects.