There is a magic in that little world, home; it is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never know beyond its hallowed limits.

Our knowledge, is our power, and God our strength.

Let us depart! the universal sun Confines not to one land his blessed beams; Nor is man rooted, like a tree, whose seed, the winds on some ungenial soil have cast there, where it cannot prosper.

By writing much, one learns to write well.

I have heard a good story of Charles Fox. When his house was on fire, he found all efforts to save it useless, and, being a good draughtsman, he went up to the next hill to make a drawing of the fire,--the best instance of philosophy I ever heard of.

Thou hast been called, O sleep, the friend of woe, But 'tis the happy that have called thee so.

It is with words as with sunbeams - the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.