It Is Not Quite True That There

The Progression Of Emancipation Of Any Class Usually, If Not Always, Takes Place Through The Efforts Of Individuals Of That Class.

Everything But Truth Becomes Loathed In A Sick-room ... Let The Nurse Avow That The Medicine Is Nauseous. Let The Physician Declare That The Treatment Will Be Painful. Let Sister, Or Brother, Or Friend, Tell Me That I Must Never Look To Be Well. When The Time Approaches That I Am To Die, Let Me Be Told That I Am To Die, And When.

It Is Hard To Tell Which Is Worse; The Wide Diffusion Of Things That Are Not True, Or The Suppression Of Things That Are True.

A Queen, Or A Prime Minister's Secretary May Be Shot At In London, As We Know; And Probably There Is No Person Eminent In Literature Or Otherwise Who Has Not Been The Object Of Some Infirm Brain Or Another. But In America The Evil Is Sadly Common.

If I Believed That The Choice Lay Between A Sacrifice Of The Completest Order Of Biography And That Of The Inviolability Of Private Epistolary Correspondence, I Could Not Hesitate For A Moment. I Would Keep The Old And Precious Privacy,-the Inestimable Right Of Every One Who Has A Friend And Can Write To Him, - I Would Keep Our Written Confidence From Being Made Biographical Material, As Anxiously As I Would Keep Our Spoken Conversation From Being Noted Down For The Good Of Society.