A Taste For Books, Which Is Still

The Pathetic Almost Always Consists In The Detail Of Little Events.

The Patient And Active Virtues Of A Soldier Are Insensibly Nursed In The Habits And Discipline Of A Pastoral Life.

The Ascent To Greatness, However Steep And Dangerous, May Entertain An Active Spirit With The Consciousness And Exercise Of Its Own Power: But The Possession Of A Throne Could Never Yet Afford A Lasting Satisfaction To An Ambitious Mind.

I Have Somewhere Heard Or Read The Frank Confession Of A Benedictine Abbot: "my Vow Of Poverty Has Given Me A Hundred Thousand Crowns A Year; My Vow Of Obedience Has Raised Me To The Rank Of A Sovereign Prince." - I Forget The Consequences Of His Vow Of Chastity.

The Barbarians Of Germany Had Felt, And Still Dreaded, The Arms Of The Young Caesar; His Soldiers Were The Companions Of His Victory; The Grateful Provincials Enjoyed The Blessings Of His Reign; But The Favourites, Who Had Opposed His Elevation, Were Offended By His Virtues; And They Justly Considered The Friend Of The People As The Enemy Of The Court.