The Bashful Virgin's Sidelong Looks Of Love.

Hope, Like The Gleaming Taper's Light, Adorns And Cheers Our Way; And Still, As Darker Grows The Night, Emits A Brighter Ray.

Conscience Is A Coward, And Those Faults It Has Not Strength Enough To Prevent It Seldom Has Justice Enough To Accuse.

Whatever Be The Motives Which Induce Men To Write,--whether Avarice Or Fame,--the Country Becomes More Wise And Happy In Which They Most Serve For Instructors.

Error Is Always Talkative.

The Youth Who Follows His Appetites Too Soon Seizes The Cup, Before It Has Received Its Best Ingredients, And By Anticipating His Pleasures, Robs The Remaining Parts Of Life Of Their Share, So That His Eagerness Only Produces Manhood Of Imbecility And An Age Of Pain.