Anticipated Rents, And Bills Unpaid, Force Many

When From Soft Love Proceeds The Deep Distress, Ah! Why Forbid The Willing Tears To Flow?

The Bud May Have A Bitter Taste, But Sweet Will Be The Flower.

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.

A Self-made Man? Yes, And One Who Worships His Creator.

Give What Thou Canst, Without Thee We Are Poor; And With Thee Rich, Take What Thou Wilt Away.