The First Pale Blossom Of The Unripened

It Is To Hope, Though Hope Were Lost.

The Awakenings Of Remorse, Virtuous Shame And Indignation, The Glow Of Moral Approbation If They Do Not Lead To Action, Grow Less And Less Vivid Every Time They Occur, Till At Length The Mind Grows Absolutely Callous.

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

Nobody Ought To Be Too Old To Improve: I Should Be Sorry If I Was; And I Flatter Myself I Have Already Improved Considerably By My Travels. First, I Can Swallow Gruel Soup, Egg Soup, And All Manner Of Soups, Without Making Faces Much. Secondly, I Can Pretty Well Live Without Tea.

Say Not 'good-night' But In Some Brighter Clime, Bid Me 'good-morning.'