Detested Sport, That Owes Its Pleasures To

The Mind, Relaxing Into Needful Sport, Should Turn To Writers Of An Abler Sort, Whose Wit Well Managed, And Whose Classic Style, Give Truth A Lustre, And Make Wisdom Smile.

Manner Is All In All, Whate'er Is Writ,the Substitute For Genius, Sense, And Wit.

There Is No Flesh In Man's Obdurate Heart; He Does Not Feel For Man.

Just Knows, And Knows No More, Her Bible True,- A Truth The Brilliant Frenchman Never Knew.

Still Ending, And Beginning Still.