There are those to whom a sense of religion has come in storm and tempest; there are those whom it has summoned amid scenes of revelry and idle vanity; there are those, too, who have heard its "still small voice" amid rural leisure and placid retirement. But perhaps the knowledge which causeth not to err is most frequently impressed upon the mind during the season of affliction.

Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.

Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening.

In prosperous times I have sometimes felt my fancy and powers of language flag, but adversity is to me at least a tonic and bracer.

Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion.

Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

Sensibility is nature's celestial spring.