The Heart's Hushed Secret In The Soft

No Thoroughly Occupied Man Was Ever Yet Very Miserable.

How Often, In This Cold And Bitter World, Is The Warm Heart Thrown Back Upon Itself! Cold, Careless, Are We Of Another's Grief; We Wrap Ourselves In Sullen Selfishness.

Memory Has Many Conveniences, And, Among Others, That Of Foreseeing Things As They Have Afterwards Happened.

Social Life Is Filled With Doubts And Vain Aspirings; Solitude, When The Imagination Is Dethroned, Is Turned To Weariness And Ennui.

The Old Proverb, Applied To Fire And Water, May With Equal Truth Be Applied To The Imagination - It Is A Good Servant, But A Bad Master.