They Defend Their Errors As If They

The Unbought Grace Of Life, The Cheap Defence Of Nations, The Nurse Of Manly Sentiment And Heroic Enterprise Isgone! It Isgone, That Sensibility Of Principle, That Chastity Of Honour, Which Felt A Stain Like A Wound, Which Ennobled Whatever It Touched, And Under Which Vice Itself Lost Half Its Evil, By Losing All Its Grossness.

Nobility Is A Graceful Ornament To The Civil Order. It Is The Corinthian Capital Of Polished Society.

It Is, Generally, In The Season Of Prosperity That Men Discover Their Real Temper, Principles, And Designs.

We Must Soften Into A Credulity Below The Milkiness Of Infancy To Think All Men Virtuous. We Must Be Tainted With A Malignity Truly Diabolical, To Believe All The World To Be Equally Wicked And Corrupt.

For There Is In Mankind An Unfortunate Propensity To Make Themselves, Their Views And Their Works, The Measure Of Excellence In Every Thing Whatsoever