Tyrants Seldom Want Pretexts.

By Hating Vices Too Much, They Come To Love Men Too Little.

Better To Be Despised For Too Anxious Apprehensions Than Ruined By Too Confident A Security.

The Traveller Has Reached The End Of The Journey!

Falsehood Is A Perennial Spring.

Vice Itself Lost Half Its Evil, By Losing All Its Grossness.