Rough Johnson, The Great Moralist.

Nothing So Fretful, So Despicable As A Scribbler, See What I Am, And What A Parcel Of Scoundrels I Have Brought About My Ears, And What Language I Have Been Obliged To Treat Them With To Deal With Them In Their Own Way; - All This Comes Of Authorship.

And The Commencement Of Atonement Is The Sense Of Its Necessity.

I Speak Not Of Men's Creeds—they Rest Between Man And His Maker.

On The Ear Drops The Light Drip Of The Suspended Oar.

But Quiet To Quick Bosoms Is A Hell.