A Mother Is The Truest Friend We

There Is A Majestic Grandeur In Tranquillity.

Oh The Grave!--the Grave!--it Buries Every Error--covers Every Defect--extinguishes Every Resentment! From Its Peaceful Bosom Spring None But Fond Regrets And Tender Recollections. Who Can Look Down Upon The Grave Even Of An Enemy, And Not Feel A Compunctious Throb, That He Should Ever Have Warred With The Poor Handful Of Earth That Lies Mouldering Before Him!

Good Temper, Like A Sunny Day, Sheds A Ray Of Brightness Over Everything; It Is The Sweetener Of Toil And The Soother Of Disquietude!

Little Minds Are Tamed And Subdued By Misfortune; But Great Minds Rise Above Them.

There Is A Remembrance Of The Dead To Which We Turn Even From The Charms Of The Living.