The Youthful Freshness Of A Blameless Heart.

I Was Always Fond Of Visiting New Scenes, And Observing Strange Characters And Manners. Even When A Mere Child I Began My Travels, And Made Many Tours Of Discovery Into Foreign Parts And Unknown Regions Of My Native City, To The Frequent Alarm Of My Parents, And The Emolument Of The Town-crier.

A Kind Heart Is A Fountain Of Gladness, Making Everything In Its Vicinity Freshen Into Smiles.

The Oil And Wine Of Merry Meeting.

There Is A Sacredness In Tears. They Are Not The Mark Of Weakness, But Of Power.

In Civilized Life, Where The Happiness, And Indeed Almost The Existence, Of Man Depends So Much Upon The Opinion Of His Fellow Men, He Is Constantly Acting A Studied Part.