Trade's Proud Empire Hastes To Swift Decay.

Pity And Friendship Are Two Passions Incompatible With Each Other.

Philosophy Can Add To Our Happiness In No Other Manner But By Diminishing Our Misery; It Should Not Pretend To Increase Our Present Stock, But Make Us Economists Of What We Are Possessed Of. Happy Were We All Born Philosophers; All Born With A Talent Of Thus Dissipating Our Own Cares By Spreading Them Upon All Mankind.

Pity, Though It May Often Relieve, Is But, At Best, A Short-lived Passion, And Seldom Affords Distress More Than Transitory Assistance; With Some It Scarce Lasts From The First Impulse Till The Hand Can Be Put Into The Pocket.

Men May Be Very Learned, And Yet Very Miserable; It Is Easy To Be A Deep Geometrician, Or A Sublime Astronomer, But Very Difficult To Be A Good Man. I Esteem, Therefore, The Traveller Who Instructs The Heart, But Despise Him Who Only Indulges The Imagination. A Man Who Leaves Home To Mend Himself And Others, Is A Philosopher; But He Who Goes From Country To Country, Guided By The Blind Impulse Of Curiosity, Is Only A Vagabond.

A Volcano May Be Considered As A Cannon Of Immense Size.