The Prospect Of Penury In Age Is

Words Are But The Signs Of Ideas.

The Imaginations Excited By The View Of An Unknown And Untravelled Wilderness Are Not Such As Arise In The Artificial Solitude Of Parks And Gardens... The Phantoms Which Haunt A Desert Are Want, And Misery, And Danger; The Evils Of Dereliction Rush Upon The Thoughts; Man Is Made Unwillingly Acquainted With His Own Weakness, And Meditation Shows Him Only How Little He Can Sustain, And How Little He Can Perform.

The Gratification Which Affluence Of Wealth, Extent Of Power, And Eminence Of Reputation Confer, Must Be Always, By Their Own Nature, Confined To A Very Small Number; And The Life Of The Greater Part Of Mankind Must Be Lost In Empty Wishes And Painful Comparisons, Were Not The Balm Of Philosophy Shed Upon Us, And Our Discontent At The Appearances Of Unequal Distribution Soothed And Appeased.

Advertisements Are Now So Numerous That They Are Very Negligently Perused

It Is Natural For Every Man Uninstructed To Murmur At His Condition, Because, In The General Infelicity Of Life, He Feels His Own Miseries Without Knowing That They Are Common To All The Rest Of The Species; And, Therefore, Though He Will Not Be Less Sensible Of Pain By Being Told That Others Are Equally Tormented, He Will At Least Be Freed From The Temptation Of Seeking, By Perpetual Changes, That Ease Which Is No Where To Be Found, And Though His Diseases Still Continue, He Escapes The Hazard Of Exasperating It By Remedies.