He That Despairs Degrades The Deity, And

Arrogance Is A Weed Which Grows Upon A Dunghill; It Is From The Rankness Of The Soil That She Has Her Height And Spreadings: Witness, Clowns, Fools, And Fellows, Who From Nothing, Are Lifted Up Some Few Steps On Fortune's Ladder: Where, Seeing The Glorious Representment Of Honour Above Them, They Are So Eager To Embrace It, That They Strive To Leap Thither At Once, And By Over-reaching Themselves In The Way, They Fail Of The End, And Fall.

How Many Would Die Did Not Hope Sustain Them.

Virtue Were A Kind Of Misery If Fame Were All The Garland That Crowned Her.

Fear, If It Be Not Immoderate, Puts A Guard About Us That Does Watch And Defend Us; But Credulity Keeps Us Naked, And Lays Us Open To All The Sly Assaults Of Ill-intending Men: It Was A Virtue When Man Was In His Innocence; But Since His Fall, It Abuses Those That Own It.

Where There Is Plenty, Charity Is A Duty, Not A Courtesy