Depend Upon It That The Lovers Of

I Find Along With Many Virtues In My Countrymen There Is A Jealousy, A Soreness, And Readiness To Take Offence, As If They Were The Most Helpless And Impotent Of Mankind, And Yet A Violence... And A Boistrousness In Their Resentment, As If They Had Been Puffed Up With The Highest Prosperity And Power. They Will Not Only Be Served, But It Must Also Be In Their Own Way And On Their Own Principles And Even In Words And Language That They Liked... Which Renders It Very Difficult For A Plain Unguarded Man As I Am To Have Anything To Do With Them Or Their Affairs.

When Any Work Seems To Have Required Immense Force And Labor To Effect It, The Idea Is Grand.

Greater Mischief Happens Often From Folly, Meanness, And Vanity Than From The Greater Sins Of Avarice And Ambition.

Falsehood Is A Perennial Spring.

Power Gradually Extirpates From The Mind Every Humane And Gentle Virtue.