Not Peace At Any Price!

Malice Blunts The Point Of Wit.

Duty, Though Set About By Thorns, May Still Be Made A Staff Supporting Even While It Tortures. Cast It Away, And, Like The Prophet's Wand, It Changes To A Snake.

A Creature Undefiled By The Taint Of The World, Unvexed By Its Injustice, Unwearied By Its Hollow Pleasures; A Being Fresh From The Source Of Light, With Something Of Its Universal Lustre In It. If Childhood Be This, How Holy The Duty To See That In Its Onward Growth It Shall Be No Other!

O This Itch Of The Ear, That Breaks Out At The Tongue! Were Not Curiosity So Over-busy, Detraction Would Soon Be Starved To Death.

The Sharp Employ The Sharp.