The First Pale Blossom Of The Unripened

Life! We've Been Long Together Through Pleasant And Through Cloudy Weather; Tis Hard To Part When Friends Are Dear,- Perhaps 'twill Cost A Sigh, A Tear. Then Steal Away, Give Little Warning. Choose Thine Own Time, Say Not "good-night," But In Some Brighter Clime, Bid Me "good-morning."

You Speak Of Beginning The Education Of Your Son. The Moment He Was Able To Form An Idea His Education Was Already Begun. . . .

It Would Be Difficult To Determine Whether The Age Is Growing Better Or Worse; For I Think Our Plays Are Growing Like Sermons, And Our Sermons Like Plays.

Children Have Almost An Intuitive Discernment Between The Maxims You Bring Forward For Their Use, And Those By Which You Direct Your Own Conduct.

We Should Contract Our Ideas Of Education, And Expect No More From It Than It Is Able To Perform.