I Know With Certainty, That [an Honest

The Unhappy Of All Men Is He Who Believes Himself To Be So.

Art May Make A Suite Of Clothes, But Nature Must Produce A Man.

A Man Posing For A Painting.

All Ills Spring From Some Vice, Either In Ourselves Or Others; And Even Many Of Our Diseases Proceed From The Same Origin. Remove The Vices; And The Ills Follow. You Must Only Take Care To Remove All The Vices. If You Remove Part, You May Render The Matter Worse. By Banishing Vicious Luxury, Without Curing Sloth And An Indifference To Others, You Only Diminish Industry In The State, And Add Nothing To Men's Charity Or Their Generosity.

For As To The Dispersing Of Books, That Circumstance Does Perhaps As Much Harm As Good: Since Nonsense Flies With Greater Celerity, And Makes Greater Impression Than Reason; Though Indeed No Particular Species Of Nonsense Is So Durable. But The Several Forms Of Nonsense Never Cease Succeeding One Another; And Men Are Always Under The Dominion Of Some One Or Other, Though Nothing Was Ever Equal In Absurdity And Wickedness To Our Present Patriotism.