Trade's Proud Empire Hastes To Swift Decay.

Vain, Very Vain, My Weary Search To Find That Bliss Which Only Centers In The Mind.

Age, That Lessens The Enjoyment Of Life, Increases Our Desire Of Living

There Is Yet A Silent Agony In Which The Mind Appears To Disdain All External Help, And Broods Over Its Distresses With Gloomy Reserve. This Is The Most Dangerous State Of Mind; Accidents Or Friendships May Lessen The Louder Kinds Of Grief, But All Remedies For This Must Be Had From Within, And There Despair Too Often Finds The Most Deadly Enemy.

Our Pleasures Are Short, And Can Only Charm At Intervals; Love Is A Method Of Protraction Our Greatest Pleasure.

The Pictures Placed For Ornament And Use, The Twelve Good Rules, The Royal Game Of Goose.