Thou Rising Sun! Thou Blue Rejoicing Sky!

You May Depend Upon It, Religion Is, In Its Essence, The Most Gentlemanly Thing In The World. It Will Alone Gentilize, If Unmixed With Cant; And I Know Nothing Else That Will, Alone. Certainly Not The Army, Which Is Thought To Be The Grand Embellisher Of Manners.

The Book Of Job Is Pure Arab Poetry Of The Highest And Most Antique Cast.

The Jews Would Not Willingly Tread Upon The Smallest Piece Of Paper In Their Way, But Took It Up; For Possibly, They Say, The Name Of God May Be On It. Though There Was A Little Superstition In This, Yet Truly There Is Nothing But Good Religion In It, If We Apply It To Men. Trample Not On Any; There May Be Some Work Of Grace There, That Thou Knowest Not Of. The Name Of God May Be Written Upon That Soul Thou Treadest On; It May Be A Soul That Christ Thought So Much Of, As To Give His Precious Blood For It; Therefore Despise It Not.

Above All Things I Entreat You To Preserve Your Faith In Christ. It Is My Wealth In Poverty, My Joy In Sorrow, My Peace Amid Tumult. For All The Evil I Have Committed, My Gracious Pardon; And For Every Effort, My Exceeding Great Reward. I Have Found It To Be So. I Can Smile With Pity At The Infidel Whose Vanity Makes Him Dream That I Should Barter Such A Blessing For The Few Subtleties From The School Of The Cold-blooded Sophists.

It Cannot But Be Injurious To The Human Mind Never To Be Called Into Effort: The Habit Of Receiving Pleasure Without Any Exertion Of Thought, By The Mere Excitement Of Curiosity, And Sensibility, May Be Justly Ranked Among The Worst Effects Of Habitual Novel-reading.