When She Lives At His Palace, The

If The Human Heart Sometimes Finds Moments Of Pause As It Ascends The Slopes Of Affection, It Rarely Halts On The Way Down.

On The Moral Plane, True Friends Enjoy The Same Protection As The Sense Of Smell Confers Upon Dogs. They Scent The Sorrow Of Their Friends, They Divine Its Causes, And They Clasp It To Their Minds And Hearts.

The Secret Of Great Fortunes Without Apparent Cause Is A Crime Forgotten, Forgotten Because It Was Properly Done.

There Are Houses In Certain Provincial Towns Whose Aspect Inspires Melancholy, Akin To That Called Forth By Sombre Cloisters, Dreary Moorlands, Or The Desolation Of Ruins. Within These Houses There Is, Perhaps, The Silence Of The Cloister, The Barrenness Of Moors, The Skeleton Of Ruins; Life And Movement Are So Stagnant There That A Stranger Might Think Them Uninhabited, Were It Not That He Encounters Suddenly The Pale, Cold Glance Of A Motionless Person, Whose Half-monastic Face Peers Beyond The Window-casing At The Sound Of An Unaccustomed Step.

Poverty Is A Divine Stepmother Who Does For Youths What Their Own Mothers Were Unable To Do. It Introduces Them To Frugality, To The World And To Life.