Linnæus, setting out for Lapland, surveys his "comb" and "spare shirt," "leathern breeches" and "gauze cap to keep off gnats," with as much complacency as Bonaparte a park of artillery for the Russian campaign. The quiet bravery of the man is admirable.

We seem to think that the earth must go through the ordeal of sheep-pasturage before it is habitable by man.

Our science, so called, is always more barren and mixed with error than our sympathies.

Time & Co. are, after all, the only quite honest and trustworthy publishers that we know.

In dreams we see ourselves naked and acting out our real characters, even more clearly than we see others awake.

In the long run, we only hit what we aim at.

Instead of the scream of a fish hawk scaring the fishes, is heard the whistle of the steam-engine, arousing a country to its progress.