The First Time I Read An Excellent

Men May Be Very Learned, And Yet Very Miserable; It Is Easy To Be A Deep Geometrician, Or A Sublime Astronomer, But Very Difficult To Be A Good Man. I Esteem, Therefore, The Traveller Who Instructs The Heart, But Despise Him Who Only Indulges The Imagination. A Man Who Leaves Home To Mend Himself And Others, Is A Philosopher; But He Who Goes From Country To Country, Guided By The Blind Impulse Of Curiosity, Is Only A Vagabond.

Both Wit And Understanding Are Trifles Without Integrity; It Is That Which Gives Value To Every Character. The Ignorant Peasant, Without Fault, Is Greater Than The Philosopher With Many; For What Is Genius Or Courage Without A Heart?

Quality And Title Have Such Allurements That Hundreds Are Ready To Give Up All Their Own Importance, To Cringe, To Flatter, To Look Little, And To Pall Every Pleasure In Constraint, Merely To Be Among The Great, Though Without The Least Hopes Of Improving Their Understanding Or Sharing Their Generosity. They Might Be Happier Among Their Equals.

By Every Remove I Only Drag A Greater Length Of Chain.

It Is Not Easy To Recover An Art When Once Lost.