No Sound Ought To Be Heard In

Kings Will Be Tyrants From Policy, When Subjects Are Rebels From Principle.

Turn Over A New Leaf.

It Is For The Most Part In Our Skill In Manners, And In The Observations Of Time And Place And Of Decency In General, That What Is Called Taste By Way Of Distinction Consists; And Which Is In Reality No Other Than A More Refined Judgment.

I Dread Our Own Power, And Our Own Ambition; I Dread Our Being Too Much Dreaded... We May Say That We Shall Not Abuse This Astonishing, And Hitherto Unheard-of-power. But Every Other Nation Will Think We Shall Abuse It. It Is Impossible But That, Sooner Or Later, This State Of Things Must Produce A Combination Against Us Which May End In Our Ruin.

Because Half A Dozen Grasshoppers Under A Fern Make The Field Ring With Their Importunate Chink, Whilst Thousands Of Great Cattle, Reposed Beneath The Shadow Of The British Oak, Chew The Cud And Are Silent, Pray, To Not Imagine That Those Who Make The Noise Are The Only Inhabitants Of The Field; That, Of Course, They Are Many In Number; Or That, After All, They Are Other Than The Little, Shriveled, Meagre, Hopping, Though Loud And Troublesome Insects Of The Hour.