Intelligence Is To Genius As The Whole

There Is No Excess In The World So Commendable As Excessive Gratitude.

There Is Speaking Well, Speaking Easily, Speaking Justly And Speaking Seasonably: It Is Offending Against The Last, To Speak Of Entertainments Before The Indigent; Of Sound Limbs And Health Before The Infirm; Of Houses And Lands Before One Who Has Not So Much As A Dwelling; In A Word, To Speak Of Your Prosperity Before The Miserable; This Conversation Is Cruel, And The Comparison Which Naturally Arises In Them Betwixt Their Condition And Yours Is Excruciating.

From Time To Time There Appear On The Face Of The Earth Men Of Rare And Consummate Excellence, Who Dazzle Us By Their Virtue, And Whose Outstanding Qualities Shed A Stupendous Light. Like Those Extraordinary Stars Of Whose Origins We Are Ignorant, And Of Whose Fate, Once They Have Vanished, We Know Even Less, Such Men Have Neither Forebears Nor Descendants: They Are The Whole Of Their Race.

A Man May Have Intelligence Enough To Excel In A Particular Thing And Lecture On It, And Yet Not Have Sense Enough To Know He Ought To Be Silent On Some Other Subject Of Which He Has But A Slight Knowledge; If Such An Illustrious Man Ventures Beyond The Bounds Of His Capacity, He Loses His Way And Talks Like A Fool.

What The People Call Eloquence Is The Facility Some Persons Have Of Speaking Alone And For A Long Time, Aided By Extravagant Gestures, A Loud Voice, And Powerful Lungs.