But What Can A Man See Of

Addison Writes With The Ease Of A Gentleman. His Readers Fancy That A Wise And Accomplished Companion Is Talking To Them; So Thathe Insinuates His Sentiments And Taste Into Their Minds By An Imperceptible Influence. Johnson Writes Like A Teacher. He Dictates To His Readers As If From An Academical Chair. They Attend With Awe And Admiration; And His Precepts Are Impressed Upon Them By His Commanding Eloquence. Addison's Style, Like A Light Wine, Pleases Everybody From The First. Johnson's, Like A Liquor Of More Body, Seems Too Strong At First, But, By Degrees, Is Highly Relished.

Drinking Is In Reality An Occupation Which Employs A Considerable Portion Of The Time Of Many People; And To Conduct It In The Most Rational And Agreeable Manner Is One Of The Great Arts Of Living.

He Had No Settled Plan Of Life, Nor Looked Forward At All, But Merely Lived From Day To Day. Yet He Read A Great Deal In A Desultory Manner, Without Any Scheme Of Study, As Chance Threw Books In His Way, And Inclination Directed Him Through Them.

It Is Wonderful That Five Thousand Years Have Now Elapsed Since The Creation Of The World, And Still It Is Undecided Whether Or Not There Has Ever Been An Instance Of The Spirit Of Any Person Appearing After Death. All Argument Is Against It; But All Belief Is For It.

All Censure Of A Man's Self Is Oblique Praise.