'Tis I that call, remember Milo's end, Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.

The press, the pulpit, and the stage, Conspire to censure and expose our age.

Men still had faults, and men will have them still; He that hath none, and lives as angels do, Must be an angel. - Wentworth Dillon, Earl of Roscomon,

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

Pride (of all others the most dang'rous fault) Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought.

The multitude is always in the wrong.