I begin where most people end, with a full conviction of the emptiness of all sorts of ambition, and the unsatisfactory nature of all human pleasures.

Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.

Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.

Wit and judgment often are at strife.

Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.

By flatterers besieged And so obliging that he ne'er obliged.

Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear; 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.