Come forward, some great marshal, and organize Equality in society, and your rod shall swallow up all the juggling old court goldsticks.

If this is not gospel-truth--if the world does not tend to this--if hereditary-great-man worship is not a humbug and an idolatry--let us have the Stuarts back again, and crop the Free Press's ears in the pillory.
If ever our cousins, the Smigsmags, asked me to meet Lord Longears, I would like to take an opportunity after dinner and say, in the most good-natured way in the world:--Sir, Fortune makes you a present of a number of thousand pounds every year.

The ineffable wisdom of our ancestors has placed you as a chief and hereditary legislator over me.
Our admirable Constitution (the pride of Britons and envy of surrounding nations) obliges me to receive you as my senator, superior, and guardian.

Your eldest son, Fitz-Heehaw, is sure of a place in Parliament; your younger sons, the De Brays, will kindly condescend to be post-captains and lieutenants-colonels, and to represent us in foreign courts or to take a good living when it falls convenient.
These prizes our admirable Constitution (the pride and envy of, &c.) pronounces to be your due: without count of your dulness, your vices, your selfishness; or your entire incapacity and folly.

Dull as you may be (and we have as good a right to assume that my lord is an ass, as the other proposition, that he is an enlightened patriot);--dull, I say, as you may be, no one will accuse you of such monstrous folly, as to suppose that you are indifferent to the good luck which you possess, or have any inclination to part with it.