The First Blow Is Half

Romance And Novel Paint Beauty In Colors More Charming Than Nature, And Describe A Happiness That Humans Never Taste. How Deceptive And Destructive Are Those Pictures Of Consummate Bliss!

Our Garrick 's A Salad; For In Him We See Oil, Vinegar, Sugar, And Saltness Agree!

Well Had The Boding Tremblers Learn'd To Trace The Day's Disasters In His Morning Face; Full Well They Laugh'd With Counterfeited Glee At All His Jokes, For Many A Joke Had He; Full Well The Busy Whisper Circling Round Convey'd The Dismal Tidings When He Frown'd. Yet Was He Kind, Or If Severe In Aught, The Love He Bore To Learning Was In Fault; The Village All Declar'd How Much He Knew, 'twas Certain He Could Write And Cipher Too.

Whatever The Skill Of Any Country May Be In The Sciences, It Is From Its Excellence In Polite Learning Alone That It Must Expect A Character From Posterity.

There Is Yet A Silent Agony In Which The Mind Appears To Disdain All External Help, And Broods Over Its Distresses With Gloomy Reserve. This Is The Most Dangerous State Of Mind; Accidents Or Friendships May Lessen The Louder Kinds Of Grief, But All Remedies For This Must Be Had From Within, And There Despair Too Often Finds The Most Deadly Enemy.