Ah! Sir, A Boy's Being Flogged Is

Our Minds Should Not Be Empty Because If They Are Not Preoccupied By Good, Evil Will Break In Upon Them.

The Round Of A Passionate Man's Life Is In Contracting Debts In His Passion, Which His Virtue Obliges Him To Pay. He Spends His Time In Outrage And Acknowledgment, Injury And Reparation.

Some Read For Style, And Some For Argument: One Has Little Care About The Sentiment, He Observes Only How It Is Expressed; Another Regards Not The Conclusion, But Is Diligent To Mark How It Is Inferred; They Read For Other Purposes Than The Attainment Of Practical Knowledge; And Are No More Likely To Grow Wise By An Examination Of A Treatise Of Moral Prudence, Than An Architect To Inflame His Devotion By Considering Attentively The Proportions Of A Temple.

Nothing Detains The Reader's Attention More Powerfully Than Deep Involutions Of Distress, Or Sudden Vicissitudes Of Fortune; And These Might Be Abundantly Afforded By Memoirs Of The Sons Of Literature. They Are Entangled By Contracts Which They Know Not How To Fulfill, And Obliged To Write On Subjects Which They Do Not Understand. Every Publication Is A New Period Of Time, From Which Some Increase Or Declension Of Fame Is To Be Reckoned. The Gradations Of A Hero's Life Are From Battle To Battle, And Of An Author's From Book To Book.

Fear Naturally Quickens The Flight Of Guilt.