He Who Finds He Has Wasted A

When Thou Hast Truly Thanked The Lord For Every Blessing Sent, But Little Time Will Then Remain For Murmur Or Lament.

The Constant Habit Of Perusing Devout Books Is So Indispensable, That It Has Been Termed The Oil Of The Lamp Of Prayer. Too Much Reading, However, And Too Little Meditation, May Produce The Effect Of A Lamp Inverted; Which Is Extinguished By The Very Excess Of That Ailment, Whose Property Is To Feed It.

To Those Who Know Thee Not, No Words Can Paint! And Those Who Know Thee, Know All Words Are Faint!

In Men This Blunder Still You Find; All Think Their Little Set Mankind.

The Wretch Who Digs The Mine For Bread, Or Ploughs, That Others May Be Fed, Feels Less Fatigued Than That Decreed To Him Who Cannot Think Or Read.