Where Evil May Be Done, It Is

Prayer Is Not Eloquence But Earnestness.

We Are Too Ready To Imagine That We Are Religious, Because We Know Something Of Religion. We Appropriate To Ourselves The Pious Sentiments We Read, And We Talk As If The Thoughts Of Other Men's Heads Were Really The Feelings Of Our Own Hearts. But Piety Has Not Its Seat In The Memory, But In The Affections, For Which However The Memory Is An Excellent Purveyor, Though A Bad Substitute.

The Ingenuity Of Self-deception Is Inexhaustible.

Yes, Thou Art Ever Present, Power Divine; Not Circumscribed By Time, Nor Fixed By Space, Confined To Altars, Nor To Temples Bound. In Wealth, In Want, In Freedom, Or In Chains, In Dungeons Or On Thrones, The Faithful Find Thee.

Luxury And Dissipation, Soft And Gentle As Their Approaches Are, And Silently As They Throw Their Silken Chains About The Heart, Enslave It More Than The Most Active And Turbulent Vices