We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmosphere about which we still know nothing at all.

No one is willing to believe that adults too, like children, wander about this earth in a daze and, like children, do not know where they come from or where they are going, act as rarely as they do according to genuine motives, and are as thoroughly governed as they are by biscuits and cake and the rod.

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels All women in the magic of her locks; And when she winds them round a young man's neck, She will not ever set him free again.

Hatred is active, and envy passive dislike; there is but one step from envy to hate.

Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men.

So then the year is repeating its old story again. We are come once more, thank God! to its most charming chapter. The violets and the Mayflowers are as its inscriptions or vignettes. It always makes a pleasant impression on us, when we open again at these pages of the book of life.

Do not, I beg you, look for anything behind phenomena. They are themselves their own lesson.