You Do Not Play Then

Merit, God Knows, Is Very Little Rewarded.

So Near Are The Boundaries Of Panegyric And Invective, That A Worn-out Sinner Is Sometimes Found To Make The Best Declaimer Against Sin. The Same High-seasoned Descriptions Which In His Unregenerate State Served To Inflame His Appetites, In His New Province Of A Moralist Will Serve Him (a Little Turned) To Expose The Enormity Of Those Appetites In Other Men.

The Red-letter Days, Now Become, To All Intents And Purposes, Dead-letter Days.

He Might Have Proved A Useful Adjunct, If Not An Ornament To Society.

Man, While He Loves, Is Never Quite Depraved.