He That Runs May Read.

When Nations Are To Perish In Their Sins, 'tis In The Church The Leprosy Begins.

I Would Not Enter On My List Of Friends (though Graced With Polished Manners And Fine Sense, Yet Wanting Sensibility) The Man Who Needlessly Sets Foot Upon A Worm.

Unless A Love Of Virtue Light The Flame, Satire Is, More Than Those He Brands, To Blame; He Hides Behind A Magisterial Air He Own Offences, And Strips Others' Bare.

O, Popular Applause! What Heart Of Man Is Proof Against Thy Sweet, Seducing Charms?

But Truths On Which Depends Our Main Concern, That 'tis Our Shame And Misery Not To Learn, Shine By The Side Of Every Path We Tread With Such A Lustre He That Runs May Read.