The Comforters Head Never Akes.

Judge Not The Preacher; For He Is Thy Judge: If Thou Mislike Him, Thou Conceiv'st Him Not. God Calleth Preaching Folly. Do Not Grudge To Pick Out Treasures From An Earthen Pot. The Worst Speak Something Good. If All Want Sense, God Takes A Text, And Preaches Patience.

The Way Is An Ill Neighbour.

Hee That Falles Into The Durt, The Longer He Stayes There, The Fowler He Is.

'it's This Accursed Science,' I Cried. 'it's The Very Devil. The Mediaeval Priests And Persecutors Were Right, And The Moderns Are All Wrong. You Tamper With It-and It Offers You Gifts. And Directly You Take Them It Knocks You To Pieces In Some Unexpected Way.'

There Is A Remedy For Every Thing, Could Men Find It.