Oh Madam, When You Put Bread And

Flattery Would Be Worse Than Vain; There Is No Consolation In Flattery.

I Thank My Maker, That In The Midst Of Judgment He Has Remembered Mercy. I Humbly Entreat My Redeemer To Give Me Strength To Lead Henceforth A Purer Life Than I Have Done Hitherto.

Misery Generates Hate.

Enjoy The Blessings Heaven Bestows, Assist His Friends, Forgive His Foes; Trust God, And Keep His Statutes Still, Upright And Firm, Through Good And Ill; Thankful For All That God Has Given, Fixing His Firmest Hopes On Heaven; Knowing That Earthly Joys Decay, But Hoping Through The Darkest Day.

You Never Felt Jealousy, Did You, Miss Eyre? Of Course Not: I Need Not Ask You; Because You Never Felt Love. You Have Both Sentiments Yet To Experience: Your Soul Sleeps; The Shock Is Yet To Be Given Which Shall Waken It.