How comes it to pass, if they be only moved by chance and
accident, that such regular mutations and read more

How comes it to pass, if they be only moved by chance and
accident, that such regular mutations and generations should be
begotten by a fortuitous concourse of atoms.

Thus we see, too, in the world that some persons assimilate only
what is ugly and evil from the read more

Thus we see, too, in the world that some persons assimilate only
what is ugly and evil from the same moral circumstances which
supply good and beautiful results--the fragrance of celestial
flowers--to the daily life of others.

Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you read more

Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe; whose strength
I will confirm with oath, which I doubt not
You'll give me leave to spare when you shall find
You need it not.

The long arm of coincidence.

The long arm of coincidence.

Men are the sport of circumstances, when
The circumstances seem the sport of men.

Men are the sport of circumstances, when
The circumstances seem the sport of men.

F.M. The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr.
------ and declines to interfere in circumstances over which read more

F.M. The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Mr.
------ and declines to interfere in circumstances over which he
has no control.

The circumstances of others seem good to us, while ours seem good
to others.
[Lat., Aliena nobis, nostra read more

The circumstances of others seem good to us, while ours seem good
to others.
[Lat., Aliena nobis, nostra plus aliis placent.]

Condition, circumstance, is not the thing;
Bliss is the same in subject or in king.

Condition, circumstance, is not the thing;
Bliss is the same in subject or in king.

And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like read more

And circumstance, that unspiritual god,
And miscreator, makes and helps along
Our coming evils, with a critch-like rod,
Whose touch turns hope to dust--the dust we all have trod.