Chapter 37 of 43 · 64 words · ~1 min read

XVI.

"With much to excite, there's little to exalt; Nothing that speaks to all men and all times; A sort of varnish over every fault; A kind of commonplace, even in their crimes; Factitious passions, wit without much salt, A want of that true nature which sublimes Whate'er it shows with truth; a smooth monotony Of character, in those at least who have got any.