In Order That All Men Might Be

In A Man's Letters You Know, Madam, His Soul Lies Naked, His Letters Are Only The Mirrour Of His Breast.

Every Man Has A Right To Utter What He Thinks Truth, And Every Other Man Has A Right To Knock Him Down For It. Martyrdom Is The Test.

Some Desire Is Necessary To Keep Life In Motion.

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 Number Of Such As Live Without The Ardour Of Inquiry Is Very Small, Though Many Content Themselves With Cheap Amusements, And Waste Their Lives In Researches Of No Importance.