They Who Most Loudly Clamour For Liberty

To Paint Things As They Are Requires A Minute Attention, And Employs The Memory Rather Than The Fancy.

The Happiness Of London Is Not To Be Conceived But By Those Who Have Been In It.

One Of The Amusements Of Idleness Is Reading Without Fatigue Of Close Attention; And The World, Therefore, Swarms With Writers Whose Wish Is Not To Be Studied, But To Be Read.

These Are The Men Who, Without Virtue, Labour, Or Hazard, Are Growing Rich, As Their Country Is Impoverished; They Rejoice, When Obstinacy Or Ambition Adds Another Year To Slaughter And Devastation; And Laugh, From Their Desks, At Bravery And Science, While They Are Adding Figure To Figure, And Cipher To Cipher, Hoping For A New Contract From A New Armament, And Computing The Profits Of A Siege Or Tempest.

Let Us Be Quick To Repent Of Injuries While Repentance May Not Be A Barren Anguish.