Date: 1709, 1714

"We polish one another, and rub off our Corners and rough Sides by a sort of amicable Collision. To restrain this, is inevitably to bring a Rust upon Mens Understandings."

— Cooper, Anthony Ashley, third earl of Shaftesbury (1671-1713)

Date: 1710, 1714

"Thus I contend with Fancy and Opinion; and search the Mint and Foundery of Imagination. For here the Appetites and Desires are fabricated. Hence they derive their Privilege and Currency. If I can stop the Mischief here, and prevent false Coinage; I am safe."

— Cooper, Anthony Ashley, third earl of Shaftesbury (1671-1713)

Date: 1745

"Yes, yes Inhuman! / Since thy Barbarian Heart is steel'd by Pride, / Shut up to Love and Pity, here behold me / Cast on the Ground, a vile and abject Wretch!"

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1750

"A mind in wisdom old, in lenience young, / From fervent truth where every virtue sprung; / Where all was real, modest, plain, sincere; / Worth above show, and goodness unsevere: / View'd round and round, as lucid diamonds throw / Still as you turn them a revolving glow, / So did his mind reflect...

— Thomson, James (1700-1748)

Date: 1754

"The mind of man does often what princes and states have done. It gives a currency to brass and copper coined in the several philosophical and theological mints, and raises the value of gold and silver above that of their true standard."

— St John, Henry, styled first Viscount Bolingbroke (1678-1751)

Date: w. prior to April 1770; 1785, 1837, 1875

"Did not thy iron conscience blush to write / This Tophet of the gentle arts polite?"

— Chatterton, Thomas (1752-1770)

Date: 1777

"Pale-eyed Affright, his heart of silver hue, / In vain essayed her bosom to acale."

— Chatterton, Thomas (1752-1770)

Date: 1789

"Deceiving gold was once my only toy, / With it my soul within the coffer lay"

— Chatterton, Thomas (1752-1770)

Date: 1793

"There, train'd amid slaughter and ruin to wade, / They toil in the heart-steeling, barbarous trade."

— Wilson, Alexander (1766-1813)

Date: 1803

"What though Astrea decks my soul in gold, / My mortal lumber trembles with the cold;"

— Chatterton, Thomas (1752-1770)