There is all the poetry in the world in a name. It is a poem which the mass of men hear and read. What is poetry in the common sense, but a hearing of such jingling names? I want nothing better than a good word. The name of a thing may easily be more than the thing itself to me.

Yet I experienced sometimes that the most sweet and tender, the most innocent and encouraging society may be found in any naturalobject, even for the poor misanthrope and most melancholy man. There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of nature and has his senses still.

Some are "industrious," and appear to love labor for its own sake, or perhaps because it keeps them out of worse mischief; to suchI have at present nothing to say. Those who would not know what to do with more leisure than they now enjoy, I might advise to work twice as hard as they do,--work till they pay for themselves, and get their free papers.

Speech is for the convenience of those who are hard of hearing; but there are many fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout.

Tradition is a more interrupted and feebler memory.

A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.

Though the hen should sit all day, she could lay only one egg, and, besides, would not have picked up materials for another.