Your Real Influence Is Measured By Your

Evil Is Retributive: Every Trespass Slips Fetters On The Will, Holds The Soul In Durance Till Contrition And Repentance Restore It To Liberty.

Fullness Is Always Quiet; Agitation Will Answer For Empty Vessels Only.

The Fable Runs That The Gods Mix Our Pains And Pleasure In One Cup, And Thus Mingle For Us The Adulterate Immortality Which We Alone Are Permitted Here To Enjoy. Voluptuous Raptures, Could We Prolong These At Pleasure, Would Dissipate And Dissolve Us. A Sip Is The Most That Mortals Are Permitted From Any Goblet Of Delight.

The Books That Charmed Us In Youth Recall The Delight Ever Afterwards; We Are Hardly Persuaded There Are Any Like Them, Any Deserving Our Equal Affections.

A True Teacher Defends His Students Against His Own Personal Influences.