Mark well the boy; in him you see the man Of future years: their instincts, tastes, the same. Time but developes that which was in him Even from his cradle; it but gives more art To hide the evil, counterfeit the good, And cheat the world by seeming what he’s not. HERMITS. People are seldom tired of the world until the world is tired of them. BLIGHTED HOPES. Like a bird with wearied pinions flying over the sea, and painfully sensible of the approach of exhaustion while yet in the midst of his career, is he who, tired of life ere half its course is past, gazes with dismay upon the gloomy waste he has still to traverse. HAPPINESS. Such is our pride and weakness, that we consider happiness as our right, and misfortune as an injustice. A wise man, on the contrary, will consider a happy condition as a prize drawn in a lottery, which he had no right to expect, but which his good fortune secured for him. PECULIARITIES OF MINDS. As some insects are said to derive their colour from the leaf upon which they feed, so do the minds of men assume their hue from the studies which they select for it. THE HEART. The heart, like the cement of the ancient Romans, acquires hardness by time. CONSOLATION. The truest consolation for the ills of life, is the recollection of its brevity. EXPERIENCE. Experience is a torch lighted in the ashes of our illusions. DIFFICULTIES. Difficulties vanquish the weak, but are vanquished by the strong. CHARACTERS. We never injure our own characters so much, as when we attack those of others. LOVE. When one link in the chain of love is broken, its strength and security are gone. DEATH. When we have outlived our youth, we have little to regret in the death of our old age; it is but the release of a superannuated friend, who has outlived every other. DEATH-BED. We value time but on the bed of death, When its brief sands are running to an end; O! how we then remember with dismay Our wasted hours, which, like reproachful ghosts Of murder’d friends, rise up and pass before us! How quickly flee the moments,—precious then As moments ne’er were dear to us before, Each counted with an agonising pang As they recede, and with them—ebbing life, Leaving the shrinking soul in terror dire, To meet, as best it may, the conqueror Death. CONTACT WITH SUPERIOR MINDS.