The parable of the prodigal son, the most beautiful fiction that ever was invented; our Saviour's speech to His disciples, with which He closed His earthly ministrations, full of the sublimest dignity and tenderest affection, surpass everything that I ever read; and like the spirit by which they were dictated, fly directly to the heart.

All truth is precious, if not all divine; and what dilates the powers must needs refine.

Habits are soon assumed; but when we strive to strip them off, 'tis being flayed alive.

Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unseen, a kiss; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss.

A life all turbulence and noise may seem To him that leads it wise and to be praised, But wisdom is a pearl with most success Sought in still waters.

To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think.

Accomplishments have taken virtue's place, and wisdom falls before exterior grace.