He Who Wins A Thousand Common Hearts

Surely Happiness Is Reflective, Like The Light Of Heaven; And Every Countenance, Bright With Smiles, And Glowing With Innocent Enjoyment, Is A Mirror Transmitting To Others The Rays Of A Supreme And Ever-shining Benevolence.

The Paternal Hearth, The Rallying-place Of The Affections.

It Is Not Poverty So Much As Pretense That Harasses A Ruined Man.

There Are Moments Of Mingled Sorrow And Tenderness, Which Hallow The Caresses Of Affection.

It Was, As I Have Said, A Fine Autumnal Day; The Sky Was Clear And Serene, And Nature Wore That Rich And Golden Livery Which We Always Associate With The Idea Of Abundance. The Forests Had Put On Their Sober Brown And Yellow, While Some Trees Of The Tendered Kind Had Been Nipped By The Frosts Into Brilliant Dyes Of Orange, Purple, And Scarlet.