I toiled after it, sir, as some men toil after virtue.

There was a little man, and he had a little soul; And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!

Go where glory waits thee! But while fame elates thee, Oh, still remember me!

Not childhood alone, but the young man till thirty, never feels practically that he is mortal.

He who hath not a dram of folly in his mixture hath pounds of much worse matter in his composition.

Oh for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might!

Think what you would have been now, if instead of being fed with tales and old wives' fables in childhood, you had been crammed with geography and natural history!