I love an author the more for having been himself a lover of books.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.

I have an affection for a great city. I feel safe in the neighborhood of man, and enjoy the sweet security of the streets.

There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary.

This will be a great day in our history; the date of a New Revolution - quite as much needed as the old one. Even now as I write they are leading old John Brown to execution in Virginia for attempting to rescue slaves! This is sowing the wind to reap the whirlwind which will come soon!

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.

The atmosphere breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers seem full of welcomes.