Idleness Among Children, As Among

My Retirement Was Now Become Solitude; The Former Is, I Believe, The Best State For The Mind Of Man, The Latter Almost The Worst. In Complete Solitude, The Eye Wants Objects, The Heart Wants Attachments, The Understanding Wants Reciprocation. The Character Loses Its Tenderness When It Has Nothing To Strengthen It, Its Sweetness When It Has Nothing To Soothe It.

My Plan Of Instruction Is Extremely Simple And Limited. They Learn, On Week-days, Such Coarse Works As May Fit Them For Servants. I Allow Of No Writing For The Poor. My Object Is Not To Make Fanatics, But To Train Up The Lower Classes In Habits Of Industry And Piety.

That Silence Is One Of The Great Arts Of Conversation Is Allowed By Cicero Himself, Who Says, There Is Not Only An Art, But Even An Eloquence In It

To Hint At A Fault Does More Mischief Than Speaking Out; For Whatever Is Left For The Imagination To Finish Will Not Fail To Be Overdone.

A Faint Endeavor Ends In A Sure Defeat.