When A Man Marries A Widow His

The Violence Of War Admits No Distinction; The Lance, That Is Lifted At Guilt And Power, Will Sometimes Fall On Innocence And Gentleness.

An Infallible Characteristic Of Meanness Is Cruelty.

Yet Reason Frowns In War's Unequal Game, Where Wasted Nations Raise A Single Name; And Mortgag'd States Their Grandsire's Wreaths Regret, From Age To Age In Everlasting Debt; Wreaths Which At Last The Dear-bought Right Convey To Rust On Medals, Or On Stones Decay.

There Is Reason To Suspect, That The Distinctions Of Mankind Have More Show Than Value, When It Is Found That All Agree To Be Weary Alike Of Pleasures And Of Cares; That The Powerful And The Weak, The Celebrated And Obscure, Join In One Common Wish, And Implore From Nature's Hand The Nectar Of Oblivion.

Never, My Dear Sir, Do You Take It Into Your Head That I Do Not Love You; You May Settle Yourself In Full Confidence Both Of My Love And My Esteem; I Love You As A Kind Man, I Value You As A Worthy Man, And Hope In Time To Reverence You As A Man Of Exemplary Piety.