You speak of beginning the education of your son. The moment he was able to form an idea his education was already begun. . . .

if an author would have us feel a strong degree of compassion, his characters must not be too perfect.

We may think all religions beneficial, and believe of one alone that it is true.

Say not 'Good-night' but in some brighter clime, bid me 'Good-morning.'

Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?

Of her scorn the maid repented, And the shepherd - of his love.

And when midst fallen London, they survey The stone where Alexander's ashes lay, Shall own with humbled pride the lesson must By Time's slow finger written in the dust.