Nothing Is So Useless As

At Present, The Novels Which We Owe To English Ladies Form No Small Part Of The Literary Glory Of Our Country. No Class Of Works Is More Honorably Distinguished For Fine Observation, By Grace, By Delicate Wit, By Pure Moral Feeling.

The Object Of Oratory Alone In Not Truth, But Persuasion.

Thus, Then, Stands The Case. It Is Good, That Authors Should Be Remunerated; And The Least Exceptionable Way Of Remunerating Them Is By A Monopoly. Yet Monopoly Is An Evil. For The Sake Of The Good We Must Submit To The Evil; But The Evil Ought Not To Last A Day Longer Than Is Necessary For The Purpose Of Securing The Good.

In The Infancy Of Civilization, When Our Island Was As Savage As New Guinea, When Letters And Arts Were Still Unknown To Athens, When Scarcely A Thatched Roofed Hut Stood On What Was Later The Site Of Rome, This Contemned People Had Their Fenced Cities And Cedar Palaces, Their Splendid Temple, Their Fleets Of Merchant Ships, Their Schools Of Sacred Learning, Their Great Statesmen And Soldiers, Their Natural Philosophers, Their Historians And Their Poets.

It Has Often Been Found That Profuse Expenditures, Heavy Taxation, Absurd Commercial Restrictions, Corrupt Tribunals, Disastrous Wars, Seditions, Persecutions, Conflagrations, Inundation, Have Not Been Able To Destroy Capital So Fast As The Exertions Of Private Citizens Have Been Able To Create It.