A Tavern Chair Is The Throne Of

Some Read For Style, And Some For Argument: One Has Little Care About The Sentiment, He Observes Only How It Is Expressed; Another Regards Not The Conclusion, But Is Diligent To Mark How It Is Inferred; They Read For Other Purposes Than The Attainment Of Practical Knowledge; And Are No More Likely To Grow Wise By An Examination Of A Treatise Of Moral Prudence, Than An Architect To Inflame His Devotion By Considering Attentively The Proportions Of A Temple.

No Man Is Defeated Without Some Resentment Which Will Be Continued With Obstinacy While He Believes Himself In The Right, And Asserted With Bitterness, If Even To His Own Conscience He Is Detected In The Wrong.

A Scotchman Must Be A Very Sturdy Moralist Who Does Not Love Scotland Better Than Truth.

Labor, If It Were Not Necessary For Existence, Would Be Indispensable For The Happiness Of Man.

I Am A Hardened And Shameless Tea Drinker, Who Has, For Twenty Years, Diluted His Meals With Only The Infusion Of This Fascinating Plant; Whose Kettle Has Scarcely Time To Cool; Who With Tea Amuses The Evening, With Tea Solaces The Midnight, And, With Tea, Welcomes The Morning.