Besides, Rose Bradwardine, beautiful and amiable as we have described her, had not precisely the sort of beauty or merit which captivates a romantic imagination in early youth. She was too frank, too confiding, too kind; amiable qualities, undoubtedly, but destructive of the marvellous, with which a youth of imagination delights to dress the empress of his affections.

Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Dream of battled fields no more. Days of danger, nights of waking.

It is wonderful what strength of purpose and boldness and energy of will are roused by the assurance that we are doing our duty.

Art thou a friend to Roderick?

He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.

Welcome as the flowers in May.

Wounds sustained for the sake of conscience carry their own balsam with the blow.