If it is surely the means to the highest end we know, can any work be humble or disgusting? Will it not rather be elevating as a ladder, the means by which we are translated?

Ancient history has an air of antiquity. It should be more modern. It is written as if the specator should be thinking of the backside of the picture on the wall, or as if the author expected that the dead would be his readers, and wished to detail to them their own experience.

It has been so written, for the most part, that the times it describes are with remarkable propriety called dark ages. They are dark, as one has observed, because we are so in the dark about them.

Nothing can be more useful to a man than a determination not to be hurried.

The press is, almost without exception, corrupt.

The schools begin with what they call the elements, and where do they end?

Governments show thus how successfully men can be imposed on, even impose on themselves, for their own advantage.