Even the weakest disputant is made so conceited by what he calls religion, as to think himself wiser than the wisest who thinks differently from him.

Many love music but for music's sake, Many because her touches can awake Thoughts that repose within the breast half-dead, And rise to follow where she loves to lead. What various feelings come from days gone by! What tears from far-off sources dim the eye! Few, when light fingers with sweet voices play, And melodies swell, pause, and melt away, Mind how at every touch, at every tone, A spark of life hath glistened and hath gone.

The habit of pleasing by flattery makes a language soft; the fear of offending by truth makes it circuitous and conventional.

Tyrants never perish from tyranny, but always from folly,-when their fantasies have built up a palace for which the earth has no foundation.

A little praise is good for a shy temper; it teaches it to rely on the kindness of others.

Democracy is always the work of kings. Ashes, which in themselves are sterile, fertilize the land they are cast upon.

If in argument we can make a man angry with us, we have drawn him from his vantage ground and overcome him.