How Quick The Old Woe Follows A

I Desire That Death Find Me Ready And Writing, Or If It Please Christ, Praying And Intears.

How Difficult It Is To Save The Bark Of Reputation From The Rocks Of Ignorance.

I Have Friends Whose Society Is Delightful To Me; They Are Persons Of All Countries And Of All Ages; Distinguished In War, In Council, And In Letters; Easy To Live With, Always At My Command.

It May Be Only Glory That We Seek Here, But I Persuade Myself That, As Long As We Remain Here, That Is Right. Another Glory Awaits Us In Heaven And He Who Reaches There Will Not Wish Even To Think Of Earthly Fame.

Each Famous Author Of Antiquity Whom I Recover Places A New Offence And Another Cause Of Dishonor To The Charge Of Earlier Generations, Who, Not Satisfied With Their Own Disgraceful Barrenness, Permitted The Fruit Of Other Minds, And The Writings That Their Ancestors Had Produced By Toil And Application, To Perish Through Insufferable Neglect. Although They Had Nothing Of Their Own To Hand Down To Those Who Were To Come After, They Robbed Posterity Of Its Ancestral Heritage.