There is a blessed necessity by which the interest of men is always driving them to the right; and, again, making all crime mean and ugly.

There is no eloquence without a man behind it.

Action is the process whereby what is not fully formed passes into expressive consciousness.

We know that madness belongs to love,--what power to paint a vile object in hues of heaven.

THE POET A moody child and wildly wise Pursued the game with joyful eyes, Which chose, like meteors, their way, And rived the dark with private ray: They overleapt the horizon's edge, Searched with Apollo's privilege; Through man, and woman, and sea, and star, Saw the dance of nature forward far; Through worlds, and races, and terms, and times, Saw musical order, and pairing rhymes. Olympian bards who sung Divine ideas below, Which always find us young, And always keep us so.

Who loses a day loses life.

How much we forgive to those who yield us the rare spectacle of heroic manners! We will pardon them the want of books, or arts, and even of gentler virtues. How tenaciously we remember them!