The Law Is The Last Result Of

The Lust Of Gold Succeeds The Rage Of Conquest; The Lust Of Gold, Unfeeling And Remorseless! The Last Corruption Of Degenerate Man.

An Epithet Or Metaphor Drawn From Nature Ennobles Art; An Epithet Or Metaphor Drawn From Art Degrades Nature.

Many Causes May Vitiate A Writer's Judgement Of His Own Works. On That Which Has Cost Him Much Labour He Sets A High Value, Because He Is Unwilling To Think That He Has Been Diligent In Vain: What Has Been Produced Without Toilsome Efforts Is Considered With Delight As A Proof Of Vigorous Faculties And Fertile Invention; And The Last Work, Whatever It Be, Has Necessarily Most Of The Grace Of Novelty.

He That Writes May Be Considered As A Kind Of General Challenger, Whom Every One Has A Right To Attack; Since He Quits The Common Rank Of Life, Steps Forward Beyond The Lists, And Offers His Merit To The Public Judgement. To Commence Author Is To Claim Praise, And No Man Can Justly Aspire To Honour, But At The Hazard Of Disgrace.

It Is Justly Considered As The Greatest Excellency Of Art To Imitate Nature; But It Is Necessary To Distinguish Those Parts Of Nature Which Are Most Proper For Imitation: Greater Care Is Still Required In Representing Life, Which Is So Often Discoloured By Passion Or Deformed By Wickedness. If The World Be Promiscuously Described, I Cannot See Of What Use It Can Be To Read The Account; Or Why It May Not Be As Safe To Turn The Eye Immediately Upon Mankind, As Upon A Mirror Which Shows All That Presents Itself Without Discrimination.