A Gen'rous Heart Repairs A

All Nature Mourns, The Skies Relent In Showers; Hushed Are The Birds, And Closed The Drooping Flowers.

And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

The Life Of A Wit Is A Warfare Upon Earth.

I Believe It Is No Wrong Observation, That Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Fond Of Nature, As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature. On The Contrary, People Of The Common Level Of Understanding Are Principally Delighted With The Little Niceties And Fantastical Operations Of Art, And Constantly Think That Finest Which Is Least Natural.

There Is No Study That Is Not Capable Of Delighting Us After A Little Application To It.