The More Sparingly We Make Use Of

Let Every Book-worm, When In Any Fragrant, Scarce Old Tome, He Discovers A Sentence, A Story, An Illustration, That Does His Heart Good, Hasten To Give It The Widest Circulation That Newspapers And Magazines, Penny And Halfpenny, Can Afford.

How Inimitably Graceful Children Are In General-before They Learn To Dance.

And In Life's Noisiest Hour, There Whispers Still The Ceaseless Love Of Thee, The Heart's Self-solace And Soliloquy. You Mould My Hopes, You Fashion Me Within.

Truths ... Are Too Often Considered As So True, That They Lose All The Power Of Truth, And Lie Bed-ridden In The Dormitory Of The Soul, Side By Side With The Most Despised And Exploded Errors.

To All New Truths, Or Renovation Of Old Truths, It Must Be As In The Ark Between The Destroyed And The About-to-be Renovated World. The Raven Must Be Sent Out Before The Dove, And Ominous Controversy Must Precede Peace And The Olive Wreath.