Avarice, Or The Desire Of Gain, Is

Your Corn Is Ripe Today, Mine Will Be So Tomorrow. 'tis Profitable For Us Both That I Should Labor With You Today, And That You Should Aid Me Tomorrow. I Have No Kindness For You, And Know You Have As Little For Me. I Will Not, Therefore, Take Any Pains Upon Your Account . . . Here Then I Leave You To Labor Alone; You Treat Me In The Same Manner. The Seasons Change, And Both Of Us Lose Our Harvests For Want Of Mutual Confidence And Security.

No One Can Doubt, That The Convention For The Distinction Of Property, And For The Stability Of Possession, Is Of All Circumstances The Most Necessary To The Establishment Of Human Society, And That After The Agreement For The Fixing And Observing Of This Rule, There Remains Little Or Nothing To Be Done Towards Settling A Perfect Harmony And Concord.

It Seems To Me, That The Only Objects Of The Abstract Sciences Or Of Demonstration Is Quantity And Number, And That All Attempts To Extend This More Perfect Species Of Knowledge Beyond These Bounds Are Mere Sophistry And Illusion.

A Hundred Cabinet-makers In London Can Work A Table Or A Chair Equally Well; But No One Poet Can Write Verses With Such Spirit And Elegance As Mr. Pope.

I May Venture To Affirm The Rest Of Mankind, That They Are Nothing But A Bundle Or Collection Of Different Perceptions, Which Succeed Each Other With An Inconceivable Rapidity, And Are In A Perpetual Flux And Movement.