The cruelest foe is a masked benefactor. The wars which make history so dreary have served the cause of truth and virtue.

The paid wealth which hundreds in the community acquire in trade, or by the incessant expansions of our population and arts, enchants the eyes of all the rest; the luck of one is the hope of thousands, and the bribe acts like the neighborhood of a gold mine to impoverish the farm, the school, the church, the house, and the very body and feature of man.

The cruelest foe is a masked benefactor. The wars which make history so dreary have served the cause of truth and virtue.

Genial manners are good, and power of accommodation to any circumstance, but the high prize of life, the crowning fortune of a man is to be born with a bias to some pursuit, which finds him in employment and happiness, -- whether it be to make baskets, or broadswords, or canals, or statutes, or songs. I doubt not this was the meaning of Socrates, when he pronounced artists the only truly wise, as being actually, not apparently so.

We judge others by their actions but we judge ourselves by our intensions.

But a compassion for that which is not and cannot be useful and lovely, is degrading and futile.

There is no God dare wrong a worm.