Improvement Is Nature.

A Friend Of Ours, Who Is An Admirer Of Isaac Walton, Was Struck, Just As We Were, With The Likeness Of The Old Angler's Face To A Fish.

Night's Deepest Gloom Is But A Calm; That Soothes The Weary Mind: The Labored Days Restoring Balm; The Comfort Of Mankind.

I Am Persuaded There Is No Such Thing After All As A Perfect Enjoyment Of Solitude; For The More Delicious The Solitude The More One Wants A Companion.

Those Who Have Lost An Infant Are Never, As It Were, Without An Infant Child. Their Other Children Grow Up To Manhood And Womanhood, And Suffer All The Changes Of Mortality; But This One Alone Is Rendered An Immortal Child; For Death Has Arrested It With His Kindly Harshness, And Blessed It Into An Eternal Image Of Youth And Innocence.

The Groundwork Of All Happiness Is Health.