His Bark Is Worse Than

An Examin'd Enterprize Goes On Boldly.

Thou That Hast Given So Much To Me Give Me One Thing More, A Grateful Heart: Not Thankful When It Pleaseth Me, As If Thy Blessings Had Spare Days, But Such A Heart Whose Pulse May Be Thy Praise.

'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.'

What Your Glasse Telles You, Will Not Be Told By Councell.

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