The Woman And The Soldier Who Do

A Comic Writer Should Of All Others Be The Least Excused For Deviating From Nature, Since It May Not Be Always So Easy For A Serious Poet To Meet With The Great And The Admirable; But Life Every Where Furnishes An Accurate Observer With The Ridiculous.

Want Compassion Is Not To Be Numbered Among The General Faults Of Mankind. The Black Ingredient Which Fouls Our Disposition Is Envy. Hence Our Eyes, It Is To Be Feared, Are Seldom Turned Up To Those Who Are Manifestly Greater, Better, Wiser, Or Happier Than Ourselves, Without Some Degree Of Malignity, We Commonly Look Downward On The Mean And Miserable With Sufficient Benevolence And Pity.

With The Latitude Of Unbounded Scurrility, It Is Easy Enough To Attain The Character Of A Wit, Especially When It Is Considered How Wonderfully Pleasant It Is To The Generality Of The Public To See The Folly Of Their Acquaintance Exposed By A Third Person.

As The Malicious Disposition Of Mankind Is Too Well Known, And The Cruel Pleasure Which They Take In Destroying The Reputation Of Others, The Use We Are To Make Of This Knowledge Is, To Afford No Handle For Reproach; For Bad As The World Is, It Seldom Falls On Anyone Who Hath Not Given Some Slight Cause For Censure.

A Tender-hearted And Compassionate Disposition, Which Inclines Men To Pity And Feel The Misfortunes Of Others, And Which Is, Even For Its Own Sake, Incapable Of Involving Any Man In Ruin And Misery, Is Of All Tempers Of Mind The Most Amiable; And Though It Seldom Receives Much Honor, Is Worthy Of The Highest.