He had no reverence for Puritan New England
To its moral beauty, its fine severity, he was wholly blind.
As a boy he thriftily sold his Pilgrim's progress
He became, in the new fashion of that day, a Deist.
Like a true child of the eighteenth century, his attitude toward the seventeenth was that of amused or contemptuous superiority.
has somewhere a charming phrase about his own love for the back seat of the stage-coach, the seat which, in the old coaching days, gave one a view of the receding landscape.
, like Burke
before him, loved historical associations, historical sentiment, the backward look over the long road which humanity has traveled.
faced the other way. He would have endorsed his friend Jefferson
's scornful sentence, “The dead have no rights.”
He joined himself wholly to that eighteenth century in which his own lot was cast, and, alike in his qualities and in his defects, he became one of its most perfect representatives.
To catch the full spirit of that age, turn for an instant to the London
of 1724--the year of Franklin
Thirty-six years have elapsed since the glorious Revolution of 1688; the Whig
principles, then triumphant, have been tacitly