The Man That Walks Wit

Thank God! We Are In The Full Enjoyment Of All These Privileges. But Can We Be Taught To Prize Them Too Much? Or How Can We Prize Them Equal To Their Value, If We Do Not Know Their Intrinsic Worth, And That They Are Not A Gift Bestowed Upon Us By Other Men, But A Right That Belongs To Us By The Laws Of God And Nature?

If I Knew A Miser, Who Gave Up Every Kind Of Comfortable Living, All The Pleasure Of Doing Good To Others, All The Esteem Of His Fellow-citizens, And The Joys Of Benevolent Friendship, For The Sake Of Accumulating Wealth. Poor Man, Said I, You Pay Too Much For Your Whistle.

Whoever Feels Pain In Hearing A Good Character Of His Neighbor, Will Feel A Pleasure In The Reverse. And Those Who Despair To Rise In Distinction By Their Virtues, Are Happy If Others Can Be Depressed To A Level Of Themselves.

Death Is A Fisherman, The World We See His Fish-pond Is, And We The Fishes Be; His Net Some General Sickness; Howe'er He Is Not So Kind As Other Fishers Be; For If They Take One Of The Smaller Fry, They Throw Him In Again, He Shall Not Die: But Death Is Sure To Kill All He Can Get, And All Is Fish With Him That Comes To Net.

They That Can Give Up Essential Liberty To Purchase A Little Temporary Safety, Deserve Neither Liberty Nor Safety.