A Soldier's Time Is Passed In Distress

The Finest Landscape In The World Is Improved By A Good Inn In The Foreground.

Life Consists Not Of A Series Of Illustrious Actions Or Elegant Enjoyments. The Greater Part Of Our Time Passes In Compliance With Necessities, In The Performance Of Daily Duties, In The Removal Of Small Inconveniences, In The Procurement Of Petty Pleasures; And We Are Well Or Ill At Ease, As The Main Stream Of Life Glides On Smoothly, Or Is Ruffled By Small Obstacles And Frequent Interruption.

None Of The Projects Or Designs Which Exercise The Mind Of Man Are Equally Subject To Obstructions And Disappointments With The Pursuit Of Fame.

We Are Easily Shocked By Crimes Which Appear At Once In Their Full Magnitude, But The Gradual Growth Of Our Own Wickedness, Endeared By Interest, And Palliated By All The Artifices Of Self-deceit, Gives Us Time To Form Distinctions In Our Own Favor

Stand Firm For Your Country, And Become A Man Honour'd And Lov'd: It Were A Noble Life, To Be Found Dead, Embracing Her.