Men Were Put Into The World To

Sir Walter Elliot, Of Kellynch-hall, In Somersetshire, Was A Man Who, For His Own Amusement, Never Took Up Any Book But The Barontage; There He Found Occupation For An Idle Hour, And Consolation In A Distressed One; . . .

A Submissive Spirit Might Be Patient, A Strong Understanding Would Supply Resolution, But Here Was Something More; Here Was That Elasticity Of Mind, That Disposition To Be Comforted, That Power Of Turning Readily From Evil To Good, And Of Finding Employment Which Carried Her Out Of Herself, Which Was From Nature Alone. It Was The Choicest Gift Of Heaven; And Anne Viewed Her Friend As One Of Those Instances In Which, By A Merciful Appointment, It Seems Designed To Counterbalance Almost Every Other Want.

I Declare After All There Is No Enjoyment Like Reading!

A Lucky Guess Is Never Merely Luck. There Is Always Some Talent In It.

How Hard It Is In Some Cases To Be Believed!' 'and How Impossible In Others!