Like Cato, give his little senate laws, and sit attentive to his own applause.

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.

'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.

Good God! how often are we to die before we go quite off this stage? In every friend we lose a part of ourselves, and the best part.

How do we know that we have a right to kill creatures that we are so little above, as dogs, for our curiosity or even for some use to us?

Chiefs who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise through time, and narrative with age, In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice - A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice.

Some old men, continually praise the time of their youth. In fact, you would almost think that there were no fools in their days, but unluckily they themselves are left as an example.