Oh! The Joy Of Young Ideas Painted

Since Trifles Make The Sum Of Human Things, And Half Our Misery From Our Foibles Springs.

If Faith Produce No Works, I See That Faith Is Not A Living Tree.

How Much It Is To Be Regretted, That The British Ladies Should Ever Sit Down Contented To Polish, When They Are Able To Reform; To Entertain, When They Might Instruct; And To Dazzle For An Hour, When They Are Candidates For Eternity!

Our Merciful Father Has No Pleasure In The Sufferings Of His Children; He Chastens Them In Love; He Never Inflicts A Stroke He Could Safely Spare; He Inflicts It To Purify As Well As To Punish, To Caution As Well As To Cure, To Improve As Well As To Chastise.

Parents Are Too Apt To Mistake Inclination For Genius.