Take from some that supreme confidence in themselves, that pride of exultation, and you crush the germ of their excellence.

Many vast designs must have perished in the conception, had not their authors breathed this vital air of self-delight, this creative spirit, so operative in great undertakings.

We have recently seen this principle in the literary character unfold itself in the life of the late Bishop of Landaff.

Whatever he did, he felt it was done as a master: whatever he wrote, it was, as he once declared, the best work on the subject yet written.

With this feeling he emulated Cicero in retirement or in action.