The Latest Gospel In This World Is,

Nature, After All, Is Still The Grand Agent In Making Poets.

Silence Is As Deep As Eternity, Speech A Shallow As Time.

The Vulgarity Of Inanimate Things Requires Time To Get Accustomed To; But Living, Breathing, Bustling, Plotting, Planning, Human Vulgarity Is A Species Of Moral Ipecacuanha, Enough To Destroy Any Comfort.

Men Are To Be Guided Only By Their Self-interests. Good Government Is A Good Balancing Of These; And, Except A Keen Eye And Appetite For Self-interest, Requires No Virtue In Any Quarter. To Both Parties It Is Emphatically A Machine: To The Discontented, A Taxing-machine; To The Contented, A Machine For Securing Property. Its Duties And Its Faults Are Not Those Of A Father, But Of An Active Parish-constable.

Speak Not At All, In Any Wise, Till You Have Somewhat To Speak; Care Not For The Reward Of Your Speaking, But Simply And With Undivided Mind For The Truth Of Your Speaking.