Scarcely Any Degree Of Judgment

A Transition From An Author's Book To His Conversation Is Too Often Like An Entrance Into A Large City, After A Distant Prospect. Remotely, We See Nothing But Spires Of Temples And Turrets Of Palaces, And Imagine It The Residence Of Splendour, Grandeur, And Magnificence; But When We Have Passed The Gates, We Find It Perplexed With Narrow Passages, Disgraced With Despicable Cottages, Embarrassed With Obstructions, And Clouded With Smoke.

Try And Forget Our Cares And Sickness, And Contribute, As We Can To The Happiness Of Each Other.

No Man, However Enslaved To His Appetites, Or Hurried By His Passions, Can, While He Preserves His Intellects Unimpaired, Please Himself With Promoting The Corruption Of Others. He Whose Merit Has Enlarged His Influence Would Surely Wish To Exert It For The Benefit Of Mankind. Yet Such Will Be The Effect Of His Reputation, While He Suffers Himself To Indulge In Any Favourite Fault, That They Who Have No Hope To Reach His Excellence Will Catch At His Failings, And His Virtues Will Be Cited To Justify The Copiers Of His Vices.

The Gloomy And The Resentful Are Always Found Among Those Who Have Nothing To Do Or Who Do Nothing.

The Most Fatal Disease Of Friendship Is Gradual Decay.