Virtue Is Too Often Merely

The Irish Are A Fair People: They Never Speak Well Of One Another.

In Writing, As In Life, Faults Are Endured Without Disgust When They Are Associated With Transcendent Merit, And May Be Sometimes Recommended To Weak Judgments By The Lustre Which They Obtain From Their Union With Excellence; But It Is The Business Of Those Who Presume To Superintend The Taste Or Morals Of Mankind To Separate Delusive Combinations, And Distinguish That Which May Be Praised From That Which Can Only Be Excused.

Though The Wisdom Or Virtue Of One Can Very Rarely Make Many Happy, The Folly Or Vice Of One Man Often Make Many Miserable.

Exert Your Talents, And Distinguish Yourself, And Don't Think Of Retiring From The World, Until The World Will Be Sorry That You Retire.

The Power, Indeed, Of Every Individual Is Small, And The Consequence Of His Endeavours Imperceptible, In A General Prospect Of The World. Providence Has Given No Man Ability To Do Much, That Something Might Be Left For Every Man To Do. The Business Of Life Is Carried On By A General Co-operation; In Which The Part Of Any Single Man Can Be No More Distinguished, Than The Effect Of A Particular Drop When The Meadows Are Floated By A Summer Shower: Yet Every Drop Increases The Inundation, And Every Hand Adds To The Happiness Or Misery Of Mankind.