With the magnificence of eternity before us, let time, with all its fluctuations, dwindle into its own littleness.

Every man is a missionary, now and forever, for good or for evil, whether he intends or designs it or not. He may be a blot radiating his dark influence outward to the very circumference of society, or he may be a blessing spreading benediction over the length and breadth of the world. But a blank he cannot be: there are no moral blanks; there are no neutral characters.

The heart is not so constituted, and the only way to dispossess it of an old affection is by the expulsive power of a new one

Thousands of men breathe, move, and live; pass off the stage of life and are heard of no more. Why? They did not a particle of good in the world; and none were blest by them, none could point to them as the instrument of their redemption; not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke, could be recalled, and so they perished--their light went out in darkness, and they were not remembered more than the insects of yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O man immortal? Live for something.

The character wherewith we sink into the grave at death, is the very character wherewith we shall re-appear on the day of resurrection.

Enthusiasm is a virtue rarely to be met with in seasons of calm and unruffled prosperity.

By the very constitution of our nature moral evil is its own curse.