Fears Of The Brave And Follies Of

In The Condition Of Men, It Frequently Happens That Grief And Anxiety Lie Hid Under The Golden Robes Of Prosperity; And The Gloom Of Calamity Is Cheered By Secret Radiations Of Hope And Comfort; As In The Works Of Nature, The Bog Is Sometimes Covered With Flowers, And The Mine Concealed In The Barren Crags.

A Soldier's Time Is Passed In Distress And Danger, Or In Idleness And Corruption.

In All Political Regulations, Good Cannot Be Complete, It Can Only Be Predominant.

When A Poet Mentions The Spring, We Know That The Zephyrs Are About To Whisper, That The Groves Are To Recover Their Verdure, The Linnets To Warble Forth Their Notes Of Love, And The Flocks And Herds To Frisk Over Vales Painted With Flowers: Yet, Who Is There So Insensible Of The Beauties Of Nature, So Little Delighted With The Renovation Of The World, As Not To Feel His Heart Bound At The Mention Of The Spring?

Surely A Long Life Must Be Somewhat Tedious, Since We Are Forced To Call In So Many Trifling Things To Help Rid Us Of Our Time, Which Will Never Return.