That, chang'd thro' all and yet in all the same, Great in the Earth as in th' Ætherial frame, Warms in the Sun, refreshes in the Breeze, Glows in the Stars, and blossoms in the Trees... Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part... Submit - in this, or any other Sphere, Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear. All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee; All Chance, Direction which thou canst not see; All Discord, Harmony not understood... All partial Evil, universal Good.

Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.

There is nothing wanting to make all rational and disinterested people in the world of one religion, but that they should talk together every day.

Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.

If a man's character is to be abused there's nobody like a relative to do the business.

There is no study that is not capable of delighting us after a little application to it.

Men would be angels, angels would be gods.