We Frequently Fall Into Error And Folly,

The Authors That In Any Nation Last From Age To Age Are Very Few, Because There Are Very Few That Have Any Other Claim To Notice Than That They Catch Hold On Present Curiosity, And Gratify Some Accidental Desire, Or Produce Some Temporary Conveniency.

Dictionaries Are Like Watches, The Worst Is Better Than None And The Best Cannot Be Expected To Go Quite True.

Religion Informs Us That Misery And Sin Were Produced Together. The Depravation Of Human Will Was Followed By A Disorder Of The Harmony Of Nature; And By That Providence Which Often Places Antidotes In The Neighborhood Of Poisons, Vice Was Checked By Misery, Lest It Should Swell To Universal And Unlimited Dominion.

Of All Kinds Of Credulity, The Most Obstinate Is That Of Party-spirit; Of Men, Who, Being Numbered, They Know Not Why, In Any Party, Resign The Use Of Their Own Eyes And Ears, And Resolve To Believe Nothing That Does Not Favor Those Whom They Profess To Follow.

He That Outlives A Wife Whom He Has Long Loved, Sees Himself Disjoined From The Only Mind That Has The Same Hopes, And Fears, And Interest; From The Only Companion With Whom He Has Shared Much Good And Evil; And With Whom He Could Set His Mind At Liberty, To Retrace The Past Or Anticipate The Future. The Continuity Of Being Is Lacerated; The Settled Course Of Sentiment And Action Is Stopped; And Life Stands Suspended And Motionless.