In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch Is offering too little and asking too much. The French are with equal advantage content, So we clap on Dutch bottoms just twenty per cent.

There is nothing I know of so sublime as a fact.

A steady patriot of the world alone, The friend of every country but his own.

In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch Is offering too little and asking too much. The French are with equal advantage content, So we clap on Dutch bottoms just twenty per cent.

When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?

Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going? Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order; Bleak blows the blast-your hat has got a hole in it. So have your breeches.

I can prove anything by statistics except the truth.