Temptations and evil purposes are the chief blights.

When the fiery passion hath passed the soul is like a city swept by a conflagration.

Each night we go before the judgment seat.
Reason hears the case; memory gives evidence; conscience convicts, each faculty goes to the left; self-respect pushes us out of paradise into the desert; and the angels of our better nature guard the gates with flaming swords.
A journey among men is like a journey through some land after the cyclone has made the village a heap and the harvest fields a waste.

An outlook upon the generations reminds us of a highway along which the retreating army has passed, leaving abandoned guns and silent cannon with men dead and dying.

Travelers from tropical Mexico describe ruined cities and lovely villages away from which civilized men journey, leaving temples and terraced gardens to moss and ivy.