Here Lies Our Good Edmund,

Men Hate More Steadily Than They Love.

In The Condition Of Men, It Frequently Happens That Grief And Anxiety Lie Hid Under The Golden Robes Of Prosperity; And The Gloom Of Calamity Is Cheered By Secret Radiations Of Hope And Comfort; As In The Works Of Nature, The Bog Is Sometimes Covered With Flowers, And The Mine Concealed In The Barren Crags.

Philosophy Has Often Attempted To Repress Insolence By Asserting That All Conditions Are Leveled By Death; A Position Which, However It May Defect The Happy, Will Seldom Afford Much Comfort To The Wretched.

Ignorance, Madam, Pure Ignorance.

Whatever Is Formed For Long Duration Arrives Slowly To Its Maturity.