Our heroes of the former days deserved and gained their never-fading bays.

Immodest words admit of no defence, For want of decency is want of sense.

Let us not write at a loose rambling rate, in hope the world will wink at all our faults.

Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express With painful care, but seeming easiness; For truth shines brightest thro' the plainest dress.

Sound judgment is the ground of writing well.

Words are like leaves; some wither every year, and every year a younger race succeed.

Truth and fiction are so aptly mixed that all seems uniform and of a piece.