There Is Nothing, In Itself, Valuable Or

Of The World And Drudgery Of Business , Seeks A Pretense Of Reason To Give Itself A Full And Uncontrolled Indulgence.

While Newton Seemed To Draw Off The Veil From Some Of The Mysteries Of Nature, He Showed At The Same Time The Imperfections Of The Mechanical Philosophy; And Thereby Restored Her Ultimate Secrets To That Obscurity, In Which They Ever Did And Ever Will Remain.

What We Call A Mind Is Nothing But A Heap Or Collection Of Different Perceptions, United Together By Certain Relations And Supposed, Though Falsely, To Be Endowed With A Perfect Simplicity And Identity.

Every Disastrous Accident Alarms Us, And Sets Us On Enquiries Concerning The Principles Whence It Arose: Apprehensions Spring Up With Regard To Futurity: And The Mind, Sunk Into Diffidence, Terror, And Melancholy, Has Recourse To Every Method Of Appeasing Those Secret Intelligent Powers, On Whom Our Fortune Is Supposed Entirely To Depend.

Morals And Criticism Are Not So Properly Objects Of The Understanding As Of Taste And Sentiment.