The World Is Like A

In My Time, The Follies Of The Town Crept Slowly Among Us, But Now They Travel Faster Than A Stagecoach.

Conscience Is A Coward, And Those Faults It Has Not Strength Enough To Prevent It Seldom Has Justice Enough To Accuse.

Of Praise A Mere Glutton, He Swallow'd What Came, And The Puff A Dunce, He Mistook It For Fame; Till His Relish Grown Callous, Almost To Displease, Who Pepper'd The Highest Was Surest To Please.

When A Person Has No Need To Borrow They Find Multitudes Willing To Lend.

Processions, Cavalcades, And All That Fund Of Gay Frippery, Furnished Out By Tailors, Barbers, And Tire-women, Mechanically Influence The Mind Into Veneration; An Emperor In His Nightcap Would Not Meet With Half The Respect Of An Emperor With A Crown.