The Opinion Of The Great Body Of

Nothing Is So Galling To A People Not Broken In From Birth As A Paternal, Or, In Other Words, A Meddling Government, A Government Which Tells Them What To Read, And Say, And Eat, And Drink And Wear.

In The Modern Languages There Was Not, Six Hundred Years Ago, A Single Volume Which Is Now Read. The Library Of Our Profound Scholar Must Have Consisted Entirely Of Latin Books.

Those Who Have Read History With Discrimination Know The Fallacy Of Those Panegyrics And Invectives Which Represent Individuals As Effecting Great Moral And Intellectual Revolutions, Subverting Established Systems, And Imprinting A New Character On Their Age. The Difference Between One Man And Another Is By No Means So Great As The Superstitious Crowd Suppose.

A Few More Days, And This Essay Will Follow The Defensio Populi To The Dust And Silence Of The Upper Shelf... For A Month Or Two It Will Occupy A Few Minutes Of Chat In Every Drawing-room, And A Few Columns In Every Magazine; And It Will Then Be Withdrawn, To Make Room For The Forthcoming Novelties.

The Spartan, Smiting And Spurning The Wretched Helot, Moves Our Disgust. But The Same Spartan, Calmly Dressing His Hair, And Uttering His Concise Jests, On What The Well Knows To Be His Last Day, In The Pass Of Thermopylae, Is Not To Be Contemplated Without Admiration.