Whilst one philosopher tells us that men are constantly the dupes of their own senses, another will swear that the senses never deceive. Both are right. Philosophy truly affirms that the senses will deceive so long as men are c...
How do I hate the tide of vulgar thought! Profane, unjust, with childish folly fraught; It breaks and bends the rays of truth divine, And by its own conceptions measures mine. Famed Epicurus' master[1] tried...
How I have always hated the opinions of the mob! To me, a mob seems profane, unjust, and rash, putting false construction on all things, and judging every matter by a mob-made standard. ...
Once upon a time there were two dogs, one named Lurcher and the other C'sar. They were brothers; handsome, well-built, and plucky, and descended from dogs who were famous in their day. These two brothers, falling into the hands...
IF these gay tales give pleasure to the FAIR, The honour's great conferred, I'm well aware; Yet, why suppose the sex my pages shun? Enough, if they condemn where follies run;...
How danger would the gods enrich, If we the vows remember'd which It drives us to! But, danger past, Kind Providence is paid the last. No earthly debt is treated so....
One day, as Jupiter seated on high looked down upon the world, he was incensed at the faults committed by mankind. "Let us," he said, "have some other occupants in the regions of the universe in place of these present inhabitan...
Everything to do with love is mystery. Cupid's arrows, his quiver, his torch, his boyhood: it is more than a day's work to exhaust this science. I make no pretence here of explaining everything. My object is merely to relate to...
A CERTAIN pious rector (John his name), But little preached, except when vintage came; And then no preparation he required On this he triumphed and was much admired. Another point he handled very well,...
Among the beasts a feud arose. The lion, as the story goes, Once on a time laid down His sceptre and his crown; And in his stead the beasts elected, As often as it suited them,...
From home and city spires, one day, The swallow Progne flew away, And sought the bosky dell Where sang poor Philomel.[2] 'My sister,' Progne said, 'how do you do?...
Old Boreas and the sun, one day Espied a traveller on his way, Whose dress did happily provide Against whatever might betide. The time was autumn, when, indeed,...
Three sorts there are, as Malherbe[2] says, Which one can never overpraise - The gods, the ladies, and the king; And I, for one, endorse the thing. The heart, praise tickles and entices;...
TO charms and philters, secret spells and prayers, How many round attribute all their cares! In these howe'er I never can believe, And laugh at follies that so much deceive....
Once there was a country bumpkin Who observed a great big pumpkin To a slender stem attached; While upon an oak tree nourished, Little acorns grew and flourished. "Bah!" said he. "That's badly matched."...
God's works are good. This truth to prove Around the world I need not move; I do it by the nearest pumpkin. 'This fruit so large, on vine so small,' Surveying once, exclaim'd a bumpkin -...
The sorest ill that Heaven hath Sent on this lower world in wrath, - The plague (to call it by its name,) One single day of which Would Pluto's ferryman enrich, -...
One of those dread evils which spread terror far and wide, and which Heaven, in its anger, ordains for the punishment of wickedness upon earth - a plague in fact; and so dire a one as to make rich in one day that grim ferryman ...
There is an ape in Paris to whom a wife was once given; and he, imitating many another husband, beat the poor creature to such an extent that she sighed all the breath out of her body and died. ...