All That Philosophy Can Teach Is To

Remote, Unfriended, Melancholy, Slow, Or By The Lazy Scheld Or Wandering Po.

The World Is Like A Vast Sea: Mankind Like A Vessel Sailing On Its Tempestuous Bosom. ... [t]he Sciences Serve Us For Oars.

Alas! The Joys That Fortune Brings Are Trifling, And Decay, And Those Who Prize The Trifling Things, More Trifling Still Than They.

Man Little Knows What Calamities Are Beyond His Patience To Bear Till He Tries Them; As In Ascending The Heights Of Ambition, Which Look Bright From Below, Every Step We Rise Shows Us Some New And Gloomy Prospect Of Hidden Disappointment; So In Our Descent From The Summits Of Pleasure, Though The Vale Of Misery Below May Appear, At First, Dark And Gloomy, Yet The Busy Mind, Still Attentive To Its Own Amusement, Finds, As We Descend, Something To Flatter And To Please. Still As We Approach, The Darkest Objects Appear To Brighten, And The Mortal Eye Becomes Adapted To Its Gloomy Situation.

Eternal Blessings Crown My Earliest Friend, And Round His Dwelling Guardian Saints Attend.