An Epigram Is But A Feeble Thing

Events Of All Sorts Creep Or Fly Exactly As God Pleases.

The Man To Solitude Accustom'd Long, Perceives In Everything That Lives A Tongue; Not Animals Alone, But Shrubs And Trees Have Speech For Him, And Understood With Ease, After Long Drought When Rains Abundant Fall, He Hears The Herbs And Flowers Rejoicing All.

If A Great Man Struggling With Misfortunes Is A Noble Object, A Little Man That Despises Them Is No Contemptible One.

Would I Describe A Preacher, I Would Express Him Simple, Grave, Sincere; In Doctrine Uncorrupt; In Language Plain, And Plain In Manner; Decent, Solemn, Chaste, And Natural In Gesture; Much Impress'd Himself, As Conscious Of His Awful Charge, And Anxious Mainly That The Flock He Feeds May Feel It Too; Affectionate In Look, And Tender In Address, As Well Becomes A Messenger Of Grace To Guilty Men.

Religion, Richest Favor Of The Skies.