The Truly Sublime Is Always Easy, And

We Must Not Always Judge Of The Generality Of The Opinion By The Noise Of The Acclamation.

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.

Contempt Is Not A Thing To Be Despised.

Men Have No Right To What Is Not Reasonable, And To What Is Not For Their Benefit.

Abstract Liberty, Like Other Mere Abstractions, Is Not To Be Found.