Elegance Is Inferior To Virtue.

Our Feelings Probably Are Not Less Strong At Fifty Than They Were Ten Or Fifteen Years Before; But They Have Changed Their Objects, And Dwell On Far Different Prospects. At Five-and-thirty A Man Thinks Of What His Own Existence Is; When The Maturity Of Age Has Grown Into Its Autumn, He Is Wrapt Up In That Of Others. The Loss Of Wife Or Child Then Becomes More Deplorable, As Being Impossible To Repair; For No Fresh Connection Can Give Us Back The Companion Of Our Earlier Years, Nor A "new-sprung Race" Compensate For That, Whose Career We Hoped To See Run.

The Sentiment Of Immediate Loss In Some Sort Decayed, While That Of Utter, Irremediable Loneliness Grew On Me With Time.

I Leave A Sad And Bitter World; And If You Remember Me, And Think Of Me As Of One Unjustly Condemned, I Am Resigned To The Fate Awaiting Me.

After Days And Nights Of Incredible Labor And Fatigue, I Succeeded In Discovering The Cause Of Generation And Life. Nay, More, I Became Myself Capable Of Bestowing Animation Upon Lifeless Matter.

Standing Armies Can Never Consist Of Resolute Robust Men; They May Be Well-disciplined Machines, But They Will Seldom Contain Men Under The Influence Of Strong Passions, Or With Very Vigorous Faculties.