The Hopes Of Zeal Are

I Do Not Envy A Clergyman's Life As An Easy Life, Nor Do I Envy The Clergyman Who Makes It An Easy Life.

I Fancy Mankind May Come, In Time, To Write All Aphoristically, Except In Narrative; Grow Weary Of Preparation, And Connection, And Illustration, And All Those Arts By Which A Big Book Is Made.

Every Man Speaks And Writes With Intent To Be Understood; And It Can Seldom Happen But He That Understands Himself, Might Convey His Notions To Another, If, Content To Be Understood, He Did Not Seek To Be Admired; But When Once He Begins To Contrive How His Sentiments May Be Received, Not With Most Ease To His Reader, But With Most Advantage To Himself, He Then Transfers His Consideration From Words To Sounds, From Sentences To Periods, And, As He Grows More Elegant, Becomes Less Intelligible.

A Coxcomb Is Ugly All Over With The Effectation Of A Fine Gentleman.

Every Man Has A Lurking Wish To Appear Considerable In His Native Place.