The Highest Eulogy Which Can Be Pronounced

The Best Portraits Are Perhaps Those In Which There Is A Slight Mixture Of Caricature; And We Are Not Certain That The Best Histories Are Not Those In Which A Little Of The Exaggeration Of Fictitious Narrative Is Judiciously Employed. Something Is Lost In Accuracy; But Much Is Gained In Effect. The Fainter Lines Are Neglected; But The Great Characteristic Features Are Imprinted On The Mind Forever.

Cut Off My Head, And Singular I Am, Cut Off My Tail, And Plural I Appear; Although My Middle's Left, There's Nothing There! What Is My Head Cut Off? A Sounding Sea; What Is My Tail Cut Off? A Rushing River; And In Their Mingling Depths I Fearless Play, Parent Of Sweetest Sounds, Yet Mute Forever.

History, Is Made Up Of The Bad Actions Of Extraordinary Men And Woman. All The Most Noted Destroyers And Deceivers Of Our Species, All The Founders Of Arbitrary Governments And False Religions Have Been Extraordinary People; And Nine Tenths Of The Calamities That Have Befallen The Human Race Had No Other Origin Than The Union Of High Intelligence With Low Desires.

But The Time Will Come When New England Will Be As Thickly Peopled As Old England. Wages Will Be As Low, And Will Fluctuate As Much With You As With Us. You Will Have Your Manchesters And Birminghams; And, In Those Manchesters And Birminghams, Hundreds Of Thousands Of Artisans Will Assuredly Be Sometimes Out Of Work. Then Your Institutions Will Be Fairly Brought To The Test.

We Hardly Know An Instance Of The Strength And Weakness Of Human Nature So Striking And So Grotesque As The Character Of This Haughty, Vigilant, Resolute, Sagacious Blue-stocking, Half Mithridates And Half Trissotin, Bearing Up Against A World In Arms, With An Ounce Of Poison In One Pocket And A Quire Of Bad Verses In The Other.