The Soul Of Man Is Infinite In

Hang Sorrow, Care'll Kill A Cat.

Reader Look, Not On His Picture But His Book.

Nothing Is More Short-lived Than Pride.

Poor Worms, They Hiss At Me, Whilst I At Home Can Be Contented To Applaud Myself, . . . With Joy To See How Plump My Bags Are And My Barns.

I Am Beholden To Calumny, That She Hath So Endeavored To Belie Me.-it Shall Make Me Set A Surer Guard On Myself, And Keep A Better Watch Upon My Actions.