An Accomplished Mathematician, I.e. A Most Wretched

Slander Is A Complication, A Comprisal And Sum Of All Wickedness.

It Is A Fair Adornment Of A Man And A Great Convenience Both To Himself And To All Those With Whom He Converses And Deals, To Act Uprightly, Uniformly, And Consistently. The Practice Of Piety Frees A Man From Interior Distraction And From Irresolution In His Mind, From Duplicity Or Inconstancy In His Character, And From Confusion In His Proceedings, And Consequently Securing For Others Freedom From Deception And Disappointment In Their Transactions With Him.

Virtue Is Not A Mushroom, That Springeth Up Of Itself In One Night When We Are Asleep, Or Regard It Not; But A Delicate Plant, That Groweth Slowly And Tenderly, Needing Much Pains To Cultivate It, Much Care To Guard It, Much Time To Mature It, In Our Untoward Soil, In This World's Unkindly Weather.

Chance Never Writ A Legible Book; Chance Never Built A Fair House; Chance Never Drew A Neat Picture; It Never Did Any Of These Things, Nor Ever Will; Nor Can It Be Without Absurdity Supposed Able To Do Them; Which Yet Are Works Very Gross And Rude, Very Easy And Feasible, As It Were, In Comparison To The Production Of A Flower Or A Tree.

Shall We Keep Our Hands In Our Bosom, Or Stretch Ourselves On Our Beds Of Laziness, While All The World About Us Is Hard At Work, In Pursuing The Designs Of Its Creation?