No Shoots, Says Friday, No

She Is Always Married Too Soon, Who Gets A Bad Husband, And She Is Never Married Too Late, Who Gets A Good One.

Reason, It Is True, Is Dictator In The Society Of Mankind; From Her There Ought To Lie No Appeal; But Here We Want A Pope In Our Philosophy, To Be The Infallible Judge Of What Is Or Is Not Reason.

Wit, Like The Belly, If It Be Not Fed, Will Starve The Members, And Distract The Head.

Today We Love What Tomorrow We Hate, Today We Seek What Tomorrow We Shun, Today We Desire What Tomorrow We Fear, Nay, Even Tremble At The Apprehensions Of.

Friends Are Good,--good, If Well Chosen.