He Who Attempts To Do All Will

I Am Not So Lost In Lexicography As To Forget That Words Are The Daughters Of Earth, And That Things Are The Sons Of Heaven.

The Man Who Is Asked By An Author What He Thinks Of His Work Is Put To The Torture And Is Not Obliged To Speak The Truth.

Religion Informs Us That Misery And Sin Were Produced Together. The Depravation Of Human Will Was Followed By A Disorder Of The Harmony Of Nature; And By That Providence Which Often Places Antidotes In The Neighborhood Of Poisons, Vice Was Checked By Misery, Lest It Should Swell To Universal And Unlimited Dominion.

To Strive With Difficulties, And To Conquer Them, Is The Highest Human Felicity; The Next Is, To Strive, And Deserve To Conquer: But He Whose Life Has Passed Without A Contest, And Who Can Boast Neither Success Nor Merit, Can Survey Himself Only As A Useless Filler Of Existence; Ad If He Is Content With His Own Character, Must Owe His Satisfaction To Insensibility.

The Real Satisfaction Which Praise Can Afford, Is When What Is Repeated Aloud Agrees With The Whispers Of Conscience, By Showing Us That We Have Not Endeavored To Deserve Well In Vain.