Nothing Is So Improving To The Temper

Were A Man, Whom I Know To Be Honest And Opulent, And With Whom I Live In Intimate Friendship, To Come Into My House, Where I Am Surrounded With My Servants, I Rest Assured, That He Is Not To Stab Me Before He Leaves It, In Order To Rob Me Of My Silver Standish; And I No More Suspect This Event, Than The Falling Of The House Itself Which Is New, And Solidly Built And Founded.--but He May Have Been Seized With A Sudden And Unknown Frenzy.--so May A Sudden Earthquake Arise, And Shake And Tumble My House About My Ears.

What A Peculiar Privilege Has This Little Agitation Of The Brain Which We Call 'thought'.

Avarice, Or The Desire Of Gain, Is A Universal Passion Which Operates At All Times, At All Places, And Upon All Persons.

How Can We Satisfy Ourselves Without Going On In Infinitum? And, After All, What Satisfaction Is There In That Infinite Progression? Let Us Remember The Story Of The Indian Philosopher And His Elephant. It Was Never More Applicable Than To The Present Subject. If The Material World Rests Upon A Similar Ideal World, This Ideal World Must Rest Upon Some Other; And So On, Without End. It Were Better, Therefore, Never To Look Beyond The Present Material World.

The End Of All Moral Speculations Is To Teach Us Our Duty; And, By Proper Representations Of The Deformity Of Vice And Beauty Of Virtue, Beget Correspondent Habits, And Engage Us To Avoid The One, And Embrace The Other.