te our own, not to enslave
them. We want the thoughts of others that we may think; and without
correct modes of thinking, all efforts at education and culture are
failures.

But it may be argued, the masses are denied the privilege of
association with the cultivated. This is not true. They may deprive
themselves, but they are not denied. This is peculiarly an age of
printing. The best of literature may now find its way into the most
humble homes. There is not a roof in the land under which the prophets
and apostles of God will not enter with the glad message containing the
promise of the life that is and that which is to come; not one under
which the poets will not come to sing to us of that far-off land; not
one too holy for the habitation of the great minds of earth which
inspire us

"With thoughts that breathe,
And words that burn."

With these for our companions, we may have the best society that this
world affords, and, by such association, fit ourselves for the
companionship of the cultivated.

Is it argued that the poor have not time for self-culture? This is one
of the greatest mistakes of life. It is not _time_ that we want; it is
_inclination_. Generally, those who have most time profit by it least.
An earnest purpose will either find time or make time. Nor is it
necessary that much time should be taken. The spare moments, the mere
fragments of time, often worse than wasted, will, if carefully
improved, make both mind and heart a store-house of the most precious
treasure. It is said that Spurgeon read the whole of Macaulay's History
of England between the courses at dinner. I would not advise that these
golden opportunities for social culture be devoted to reading; but the
circumstance shows how much may be accomplished by gathering up the
crumbs which fall from the table of time. When Martin Luther was asked
how, amid all his other labors, he found time to translate the Holy
Scriptures, he replied, "One verse a day." A small amount of daily
reading, of the right kind, will furnish food for thought; and it is
thought, after all, that enriches the soul.

A proper improvement of the most slender opportunities for self-culture
creates new capacities for enjoyment, and saves the leisure moments
from being dull and wearisome. More than this; it saves them from being
devoted to ruinous indulgence. The soul-culture for which these
fragments of time provide, lifts humanity above mere brutal enjoyments,