It Is A Part Of Christianity To

The Soul On Earth Is An Immortal Guest, Compelled To Starve At An Unreal Feast: A Spark, Which Upward Tends By Nature's Force: A Stream Diverted From Its Parent Source; A Drop Dissever'd From The Boundless Sea; A Moment, Parted From Eternity; A Pilgrim Panting For The Rest To Come; An Exile, Anxious For His Native Home.

When Thou Hast Truly Thanked The Lord For Every Blessing Sent, But Little Time Will Then Remain For Murmur Or Lament.

No Man Ever Repented Of Being A Christian On His Death Bed.

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.

A Small Unkindness Is A Great Offence.