A Little Library, Growing Every Year, Is

If One Should Give Me A Dish Of Sand, And Tell Me There Were Particles Of Iron In It, I Might Look For Them With My Eyes, And Search For Them With My Clumsy Fingers, And Be Unable To Detect Them; But Let Me Take A Magnet And Sweep Through It, And How Would It Draw To Itself The Almost Invisible Particles By The Mere Power Of Attraction. The Unthankful Heart, Like My Finger In The Sand, Discovers No Mercies; But Let The Thankful Heart Sweep Through The Day, And As The Magnet Finds The Iron, So It Will Find, In Every Hour, Some Heavenly Blessings.

The Methods By Which Men Have Met And Conquered Trouble, Or Been Slain By It, Are The Same In Every Age.

True Politeness Is The Spirit Of Benevolence Showing Itself In A Refined Way. It Is The Expression Of Good-will And Kindness. It Promotes Both Beauty In The Man Who Possesses It, And Happiness In Those Who Are About Him. It Is A Religious Duty, And Should Be A Part Of Religious Training.

The Great Men Of Earth Are The Shadow Men, Who, Having Lived And Died, Now Live Again And Forever Through Their Undying Thoughts. Thus Living, Though Their Footfalls Are Heard No More, Their Voices Are Louder Than The Thunder, And Unceasing As The Flow Of Tides Or Air.

As Flowers Carry Dewdrops, Trembling On The Edges Of The Petals, And Ready To Fall At The First Waft Of Wind Or Brush Of Bird, So The Heart Should Carry Its Beaded Words Of Thanksgiving; And At The First Breath Of Heavenly Flavor, Let Down The Shower, Perfumed With The Heart's Gratitude.