Misery And Shame Are Nearly Allied.

I Inherited A Vile Melancholy From My Father, Which Has Made Me Mad All My Life, At Least Not Sober.

I Will Venture To Say There Is More Learning And Science Within The Circumference Of Ten Miles From Where We Now Sit [in London], Than In All The Rest Of The Kingdom.

No Writer Can Be Fully Convicted Of Imitation Except There Is A Concurrence Of More Resemblance Than Can Be Imagined To Have Happened By Chance; As Where The Same Ideas Are Conjoined Without Any Natural Series Or Necessary Coherence, Or Where Not Only The Thought But The Words Are Copied.

But It Is Evident, That These Bursts Of Universal Distress Are More Dreaded Than Felt; Thousands And Ten Thousands Flourish In Youth, And Wither In Age, Without The Knowledge Of Any Other Than Domestic Evils, And Share The Same Pleasures And Vexa­tions, Whether Their Kings Are Mild Or Cruel, Whether The Armies Of Their Country Pursue Their Enemies Or Retreat Before Them.

This Man [chesterfield], I Thought, Had Been A Lord Among Wits; But I Find He Is Only A Wit Among Lords.