We Must Succumb To The

He Who, In An Enlightened And Literary Society, Aspires To Be A Great Poet, Must First Become A Little Child.

Our Judgment Ripens; Our Imagination Decays. We Cannot At Once Enjoy The Flowers Of The Spring Of Life And The Fruits Of Its Autumn.

Men Are Never So Likely To Settle A Question Rightly As When They Discuss It Freely.

It Is Certain That Satirical Poems Were Common At Rome From A Very Early Period. The Rustics, Who Lived At A Distance From The Seat Of Government, And Took Little Part In The Strife Of Factions, Gave Vent To Their Petty Local Animosities In Coarse Fescennine Verse.

The Effective Strength Of Sects Is Not To Be Ascertained Merely By Counting Heads.