A Book May Be Very Amusing With

An Englishman Fears Contempt More Than Death.

When Lovely Woman Stoops To Folly, And Finds Too Late That Men Betray, What Charm Can Soothe Her Melancholy, What Art Can Wash Her Guilt Away?

If The Soul Be Happily Disposed, Every Thing Becomes Capable Of Affording Entertainment, And Distress Will Almost Want A Name.

Paltry Affectation, Strained Allusions, And Disgusting Finery Are Easily Attained By Those Who Choose To Wear Them; They Are But Too Frequently The Badges Of Ignorance Or Of Stupidity, Whenever It Would Endeavor To Please.

Whichever Way We Look The Prospect Is Disagreeable. Behind, We Have Left Pleasures We Shall Never Enjoy, And Therefore Regret; And Before, We See Pleasures Which We Languish To Possess, And Are Consequently Uneasy Till We Possess Them.