He Mouths A Sentence As Curs Mouth

It Can't Be Nature, For It Is Not Sense.

With Various Readings Stored His Empty Skull, Learn'd Without Sense, And Venerably Dull.

The Laws I Love; The Lawyers I Suspect.

The Scots Are Poor, Cries Surly English Pride; True Is The Charge, Nor By Themselves Denied. Are They Not Then In Strictest Reason Clear, Who Wisely Come To Mend Their Fortunes Here?

The More Haste, Ever The Worst Speed.