Religion, If In Heavenly Truths Attired, Needs

Lights Of The World, And Stars Of Human Race.

A Moral, Sensible, And Well-bred Manwill Not Affront Me, And No Other Can.

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.

Where Thou Art Gone, Adieus And Farewells Are A Sound Unknown.

Absence Of Occupation Is Not Rest.