Even Imperfection Itself May Have Its Ideal

Often One's Dear Friend Talks Something Which One Scruples To Call Rigmarole.

The Peace Of Nature And Of The Innocent Creatures Of God Seems To Be Secure And Deep, Only So Long As The Presence Of Man And His Restless And Unquiet Spirit Are Not There To Trouble Its Sanctity.

Many A Man Has Risen To Eminence Under The Powerful Reaction Of His Mind In Fierce Counter-agency To The Scorn Of The Unworthy, Daily Evoked By His Personal Defects, Who With A Handsome Person Would Have Sunk Into The Luxury Of A Careless Life Under The Tranquillizing Smiles Of Continual Admiration.

Solitude, Though It May Be Silent As Light, Is Like Light, The Mightiest Of Agencies; For Solitude Is Essential To Man. All Men Come Into This World Alone And Leave It Alone.

Far Better, And More Cheerfully, I Could Dispense With Some Part Of The Downright Necessaries Of Life, Than With Certain Circumstances Of Elegance And Propriety In The Daily Habits Of Using Them.