In Job and the Psalms we shall find more sublime ideas, more elevated language, than in any of the heathen versifiers of Greece or Rome.

But, children, you should never let Such angry passions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.

Nothing tends so much to enlarge the mind as traveling.

What bliss will fill the ransomed souls, when they in glory dwell, to see the sinner as he rolls, in quenchless flames of hell.

The passions are the gales of life; and it is religion only that can prevent them from rising into a tempest.

Dear Lord. I give myself away. I've nothing else to give.

Birds in their little nests agree; And 'tis a shameful sight When children of one family Fall out, and chide, and fight.