Soon As The Evening Shades Prevail, The

Whilst I Yet Live, Let Me Not Live In Vain.

It Must Be So,-plato, Thou Reasonest Well! Else Whence This Pleasing Hope, This Fond Desire, This Longing After Immortality? Or Whence This Secret Dread And Inward Horror Of Falling Into Naught? Why Shrinks The Soul Back On Herself, And Startles At Destruction? 't Is The Divinity That Stirs Within Us; 't Is Heaven Itself That Points Out An Hereafter, And Intimates Eternity To Man. Eternity! Thou Pleasing, Dreadful Thought!

The Fashionable World Is Grown Free And Easie; Our Manners Sit More Loose Upon Us: Nothing Is So Modish As An Agreeable Negligence. In A Word, Good Breeding Shows It Self Most, Where To An Ordinary Eye It Appears The Least.

The Unassuming Youth Seeking Instruction With Humility Gains Good Fortune.

The Lives Of Great Men Cannot Be Writ With Any Tolerable Degree Of Elegance Or Exactness Within A Short Time After Their Decease.