If The Soul Be Happily Disposed, Every

People Seek Within A Short Span Of Life To Satisfy A Thousand Desires, Each Of Which Is Insatiable.

The Soul May Be Compared To A Field Of Battle, Where The Armies Are Ready Every Moment To Encounter. Not A Single Vice But Has A More Powerful Opponent, And Not One Virtue But May Be Overborne By A Combination Of Vices.

Blest That Abode, Where Want And Pain Repair, And Every Stranger Finds A Ready Chair.

I Have Visited Many Countries, And Have Been In Cities Without Number, Yet Never Did I Enter A Town Which Could Not Produce Ten Or Twelve Little Great Men; All Fancying Themselves Known To The Rest Of The World, And Complimenting Each Other Upon Their Extensive Reputation.

Take A Dollar From A Thousand And It Will Be A Thousand No More.