The stars, that in their courses roll, Have much instruction given; But Thy good Word informs my soul How I may climb to Heaven.

A dogmatical spirit inclines a man to be censorious of his neighbors. Every one of his opinions appears to him written, as it were, with sunbeams, and he grows angry that his neighbors do not see it in the same light. He is tempted to disdain his correspondents as men of low and dark understandings because they do not believe what he does.

It is not to be expected that we should love God supremely if we have not known him to be more desirable than all other things.

Every one of his opinions appears to himself to be written with sunbeams.

Fancy and humour, early and constantly indulged in, may expect an old age overrun with follies.

Roses grow on thorns and honey wears a sting.

When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.