The Poetry Of Speech.

Death, So Called, Is A Thing Which Makes Men Weep, And Yet A Third Of Life Is Passed In Sleep.

Switzerland Is A Curst, Selfish, Swinish Country Of Brutes, Placed In The Most Romantic Region Of The World.

Man Is In Part Divine, A Troubled Stream From A Pure Source.

Are We Aware Of Our Obligations To A Mob? It Is The Mob That Labor In Your Fields And Serve In Your Houses - That Man Your Navy, And Recruit Your Army - That Have Enabled You To Defy The World, And Can Also Defy You When Neglect And Calamity Have Driven Them To Despair. You May Call The People A Mob; But Do Not Forget That A Mob Too Often Speaks The Sentiments Of The People.

If We Must Have A Tyrant, Let Him At Least Be A Gentleman Who Has Been Bred To The Business, And Let Us Fall By The Axe And Not By The Butcher's Cleaver.