If Our Zeal Were True And Genuine

Plutarch Says Very Finely That A Man Should Not Allow Himself To Hate Even His Enemies.

Waning Moons Their Settled Periods Keep, To Swell The Billows And Ferment The Deep.

Wine Displays Every Little Spot Of The Soul In Its Utmost Deformity.

To Look Upon The Soul As Going On From Strength To Strength, To Consider That She Is To Shine Forever With New Accessions Of Glory, And Brighten To All Eternity; That She Will Be Still Adding Virtue To Virtue, And Knowledge To Knowledge,--carries In It Something Wonderfully Agreeable To That Ambition Which Is Natural To The Mind Of Man.

It Is Wonderful To See Persons Of Sense Passing Away A Dozen Hours Together In Shuffling And Dividing A Pack Of Cards.