To Fine Folkes A Little Ill Finely

Resort To Sermons, But To Prayers Most: Praying's The End Of Preaching.

Musick Helps Not The Tooth-ach.

God Strikes With His Finger, And Not With All His Arm.

For Want Of A Naile The Shoe Is Lost, For Want Of A Shoe The Horse Is Lost, For Want Of A Horse The Rider Is Lost.

He Carries Well, To Whom It Waighes Not. [he Carries Well, To Whomit Weighs Not.]