I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.

Some are bewildered in the maze of schools, And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools.

Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, and fills up all the mighty void of sense.

And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.

A brain of feathers, and a heart of lead.

Die of a rose in aromatic pain.

The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.