Whose Fault Is It If Poor Ireland

To Me It Seems That Liberty And Virtue Were Made For Each Other. If Any Man Wish To Enslave His Country, Nothing Is A Fitter Preparative Than Vice; And Nothing Leads To Vice So Surely As Irreligion.

A Man Needs No Arguments To Make Him Discern And Approve What Is Beautiful: It Strikes At First Sight, And Attracts Without A Reason. And As This Beauty Is Found In The Shape And Form Of Corporeal Things, So Also Is There Analogous To It A Beauty Of Another Kind, An Order, A Symmetry, And Comeliness In The Moral World. And As The Eye Perceiveth The One, So The Mind Doth By A Certain Interior Sense Perceive The Other, Which Sense, Talent, Or Faculty, Is Ever Quickest And Purest In The Noblest Minds.

The Table I Write On I Say Exists ... Meaning Thereby That If I Was In My Study I Might Perceive It, Or That Some Other Spirit Actually Does Perceive It.

The Real Essence, The Internal Qualities, And Constitution Of Even The Meanest Object, Is Hid From Our View; Something There Is Inevery Drop Of Water, Every Grain Of Sand, Which It Is Beyond The Power Of Human Understanding To Fathom Or Comprehend. But It Is Evidentthat We Are Influenced By False Principles To That Degree As To Mistrust Our Senses, And Think We Know Nothing Of Those Things Which We Perfectly Comprehend.

That Food Nourishes, Sleep Refreshes, And Fire Warms Us; That To Sow In The Seed-time Is The Way To Reap In The Harvest, And, In General, That To Obtain Such Or Such Ends, Such Or Such Means Are Conducive, All This We Know, Not By Discovering Any Necessary Connexion Between Our Ideas, But Only By The Observation Of The Settled Laws Of Nature, Without Which We Should Be All In Uncertainty And Confusion, And A Grown Man No More Know How To Manage Himself In The Affairs Of Life Than An Infant Just Born.