He tried the luxury of doing good.

This, books can do-nor this alone; they give New views to life, and teach us how to live; They soothe the grieved, the stubborn they chastise; Fools they admonish, and confirm the wise. Their aid they yield to all: they never shun The man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone; Unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud, They fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd; Nor tell to various people various things, But show to subjects, what they show to kings.

Anger makes us strong, Blind and impatient, And it leads us wrong; The strength is quickly lost; We feel the error long.

Habit with him was all the test of truth; It must be right: I've done it from my youth.

'T was good advice, and meant, my son, Be good.

Hence, in these times, untouch'd the pages lie, And slumber out their immortality.

To show the world what long experience gains, requires not courage, though it calls for pains; but at life's outset to inform mankind is a bold effort of a valiant mind.