Prayer Is Not Eloquence But

A Crown! What Is It? It Is To Bear The Miseries Of A People! To Hear Their Murmurs, Feel Their Discontents, And Sink Beneath A Load Of Splendid Care!

Subduing And Subdued, The Petty Strife, Which Clouds The Colour Of Domestic Life; The Sober Comfort, All The Peace Which Springs From The Large Aggregate Of Little Things; On These Small Cares Of Daughter, Wife Or Friend, The Almost Sacred Joys Of Home Depend.

Oblivion Has Been Noticed As The Offspring Of Silence.

After All That Corrupt Poets, And More Corrupt Philosophers, Have Told Us Of The Blandishments Of Pleasure, And Of Its Tendency To Soften The Temper And Humanize The Affections, It Is Certain, That Nothing Hardens The Heart Like Excessive And Unbounded Luxury; And He Who Refuses The Fewest Gratifications To His Own Voluptuousness, Will Generally Be Found The Least Susceptible Of Tenderness For The Wants Of Others.

The Artful Injury, Whose Venomed Dart Scarce Wounds The Hearing, While It Stabs The Heart.