Where men of judgment creep and feel their way, The positive pronounce without dismay.

Folly ends where genuine hope begins.

Reasoning at every step he treads, Man yet mistakes his way, Whilst meaner things, whom instinct leads, Are rarely known to stray.

To impute our recovery to medicine, and to carry our view no further, is to rob God of His honor, and is saying in effect that He has parted with the keys of life and death, and, by giving to a drug the power to heal us, has placed our lives out of His own reach.

Grief is itself a medicine.

Lights of the world, and stars of human race.

O, popular applause! what heart of man is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms?