A teacher should be sparing of his smile.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds: And as the mind is pitch'd the ear is pleased With melting airs, or martial, brisk or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch'd within us, and the heart replies.

A teacher should be sparing of his smile.

O solitude, where are the charms That sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.

Remorse begets reform.

And diff'ring judgments serve but to declare that truth lies somewhere, if we knew but where.

Religion, richest favor of the skies.