Custom doth often reason overrule,
And only serves for reason to the fool.—Rochester.
A moon dial, with Napier's bones,
And sev'ral constellation stones.—Butler.
He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin,
That touch'd the ruff that touch'd Queen Bess's chin.
—Wolcot's Peter Pindar.
Stretching away on the one hand into the deep gloom of barbaric ignorance, and on the other hand into the full radiance of Christian intelligence, and, grounding itself strongly in the instinctive recognition by all men of the intimate relations between the seen and the unseen, the empire of SUPERSTITION possesses all ages of human history and all stages of human progress.—Nimno.
Matrons who toss the cup, and see
The grounds of fate in grounds of tea.—Churchill.
I have known the shooting of a star to spoil a night's rest; I have seen a man in love grow pale upon the plucking of a merry-thought. There is nothing so inconsiderable which may not appear dreadful to an imagination that is filled with omens and prognostics.—Addison.
Books with Unpronounceable Names.
In the seventeenth century there was a book published entitled: "Crononhotonthologos, the most tragical tragedy that ever was tragedized by any company of tragedians." The first two lines of this effusion read—
"Aldeborontiphoscophosnio!
Where left you Chrononhotonthologos?"