Whatever Is Worth Doing At All Is

Of Those Who Really Love Their Sons, Few Know How To Do It. Some Spoil Them When They Are Young, And Then Quarrel With Them When They Are Grown Up, For Having Been Spoiled; Some Love Them Like Mothers, And Attend Only To The Bodily Health And Strength Of The Hopes Of Their Family, Solemnize His Birthday, And Rejoice, Like The Subjects Of The Great Mogul, At The Increase Of His Bulk: While Others, Minding, As They Think, Only Essentials, Take Pains And Pleasure To See In Their Heir, All Their Favourite Weaknesses And Imperfections.

The Heart Never Grows Better By Age; I Fear Rather Worse; Always Harder.

Women Of Fashion And Character--i Do Not Mean Absolutely Unblemished--are A Necessary Ingredient In The Composition Of Good Company; The Attention Which They Require, And Which Is Always Paid Them By Well-bred Men, Keeps Up Politeness, And Gives A Habit Of Good-breeding; Whereas Men, When They Live Together Without The Lenitive Of Women In Company, Are Apt To Grow Careless, Negligent, And Rough Among One Another.

In Nature The Most Violent Passions Are Silent; In Tragedy They Must Speak And Speak With Dignity Too.

Not To Perceive The Little Weaknesses And The Idle But Innocent Affectations Of The Company May Be Allowable As A Sort Of Polite Duty. The Company Will Be Pleased With You If You Do, And Most Probably Will Not Be Reformed By You If You Do Not.