On Cold December Fragrant Chaplets Blow, And

How Vast A Memory Has Love!

I Believe It Is No Wrong Observation, That Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Fond Of Nature, As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature. On The Contrary, People Of The Common Level Of Understanding Are Principally Delighted With The Little Niceties And Fantastical Operations Of Art, And Constantly Think That Finest Which Is Least Natural.

Nay, Fly To Altars; There They'll Talk You Dead; For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.

The Pure And Noble, The Graceful And Dignified, Simplicity Of Language Is Nowhere In Such Perfection As In The Scriptures And Homer. The Whole Book Of Job, With Regard Both To Sublimity Of Thought And Morality, Exceeds, Beyond All Comparison, The Most Noble Parts Of Homer.

Some People Are Commended For A Giddy Kind Of Good-humor, Which Is As Much A Virtue As Drunkenness.