Whilst Shame Keeps Its Watch, Virtue Is

You Can Never Plan The Future By The Past.

Thank God, Men That Art Greatly Guilty Are Never Wise.

One Source Of The Sublime Is Infinity.

Because Half A Dozen Grasshoppers Under A Fern Make The Field Ring With Their Importunate Chink, Whilst Thousands Of Great Cattle, Reposed Beneath The Shadow Of The British Oak, Chew The Cud And Are Silent, Pray, To Not Imagine That Those Who Make The Noise Are The Only Inhabitants Of The Field; That, Of Course, They Are Many In Number; Or That, After All, They Are Other Than The Little, Shriveled, Meagre, Hopping, Though Loud And Troublesome Insects Of The Hour.

All Persons Possessing Any Portion Of Power Ought To Be Strongly And Awfully Impressed With An Idea That They Act In Trust, And That They Are To Account For Their Conduct In That Trust To The One Great Master, Author, And Founder Of Society.