There Are Innumerable Questions To Which The

The Certainty That Life Cannot Be Long, And The Probability That It Will Be Much Shorter Than Nature Allows, Ought To Awaken Every Man To The Active Prosecution Of Whatever He Is Desirous To Perform. It Is True, That No Diligence Can Ascertain Success; Death May Intercept The Swiftest Career; But He Who Is Cut Off In The Execution Of An Honest Undertaking Has At Least The Honour Of Falling In His Rank, And Has Fought The Battle, Though He Missed The Victory.

I Know Not Why Any One But A School Boy In His Declamation Would Whine Over The Commonwealth Of Rome, Which Grew Great Only By The Misery Of The Rest Of Mankind. The Romans, Like Others, As Soon As They Were Rich, Grew Corrupt; And In Their Corruption Sold The Lives And Freedoms Of Themselves And Of One Another.

Avarice Is Generally The Last Passion Of Those Lives Of Which The First Part Has Been Squandered In Pleasure, And The Second Devoted To Ambition. He That Sinks Under The Fatigue Of Getting Wealth, Lulls His Age With The Milder Business Of Saving It

A Generous And Elevated Mind Is Distinguished By Nothing More Certainly Than An Eminent Degree Of Curiosity.

The Botanist Looks Upon The Astronomer As A Being Unworthy Of His Regard; And He That Is Glowing Great And Happy By Electrifying A Bottle Wonders How The World Can Be Engaged By Trifling Prattle About War And Peace.