Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.

We find few historians who have been diligent enough in their search for truth; it is their common method to take on trust what they help distribute to the public; by which means a falsehood once received from a famed writer becomes traditional to posterity.

But how can finite grasp Infinity?

One of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has produced.

Good sense and good nature are never separated; and good nature is the product of right reason.

And nobler is a limited command, Given by the love of all your native land, Than a successive title, long and dark, Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.

Raw in the fields the rude militia swarms, Mouth without hands; maintained at vast expense, In peace a charge, in war a weak defence.