Love of Nature.—­It has been observed and there is a world of homely, ay, of legislative knowledge in the observation, that wherever you see a flower in a cottage-garden, or a bird at the window, you may feel sure that the cottagers are better and wiser than their neighbours.

Humour.—­Where but in farces is the phraseology of the humorist always the same?

Conversation Tactics.—­A quick, short, abrupt turn, that retrenching all superfluities of pronoun and conjunction, and marching at once upon the meaning of the sentence, had in it a military and Spartan significance, which betrayed how difficult it often is for a man to forget that he had been a corporal.

Music of Water.—­You saw hard by the rivulet darkening and stealing away, till your sight, though not your ear, lost it among the woodland.

A fine Fellow—­He had strong principles as well as warm feelings, and a fine and resolute sense of honour utterly impervious to attack.  It was impossible to be in his company an hour, and not see that he was a man to be respected.  It was equally impossible to live with him a week, and not see that he was a man to be beloved.

Marriage.—­The greatest happiness which the world is capable of bestowing—­the society and love of one in whom we could wish for no change, and beyond whom we have no desire.

Fatality.—­What evil cannot corrupt, Fate seldom spares.

Widowhood.—­If the blow did not crush, at least it changed him.

Comfort of Children.—­As his nephew and his motherless daughters grew up, they gave an object to his seclusion, and a relief to his reflections.  He found a pure and unfailing delight in watching the growth of their young minds, and guiding their differing dispositions; and, as time at length enabled them to return his affection, and appreciate his cares, he became once more sensible that he had a home.

Intellectual Beauty.—­Her eyes of a deep blue, wore a thoughtful and serene expression, and her forehead, higher and broader than it usually is in women, gave promise of a certain nobleness of intellect, and added dignity, but a feminine dignity, to the more tender characteristics of her beauty.

A Village Beauty.—­The sunlight of a happy and innocent heart sparkled on her face, and gave a beam it gladdened you to behold, to her quick hazel eye, and a smile that broke out from a thousand dimples.

An unformed mind.—­Cheerful to outward seeming, but restless, fond of change, and subject to the melancholy and pining mood common to young and ardent minds.

Dependence.—­What in the world makes a man of just pride appear so unamiable as the sense of dependence.

Two modes of sitting in a chair.—­The one short, dry, fragile, and betraying a love of ease in his unbuttoned vest, and a certain lolling, see-sawing method of balancing his body upon his chair; the other, erect and solemn, and as steady on his seat as if he were nailed to it.