A Wonder Lasts But Nine Days, And

I Describe Not Men, But Manners; Not An Individual, But A Species.

Now In Reality, The World Has Paid Too Great A Compliment To Critics, And Has Imagined Them To Be Men Of Much Greater Profundity Than They Really Are.

An Author Ought To Consider Himself, Not As A Gentleman Who Gives A Private Or Eleemosynary Treat, But Rather As One Who Keeps A Public Ordinary, At Which All Persons Are Welcome For Their Money.

Let No Man Be Sorry He Has Done Good, Because Others Concerned With Him Have Done Evil! If A Man Has Acted Right, He Has Done Well, Though Along; If Wrong, The Sanction Of All Mankind Will Not Justify Him.

Good Writers Will, Indeed, Do Well To Imitate The Ingenious Traveller. . .who Always Proportions His Stay In Any Place.