Write to me often, and always remember the good God, and your old mother, "PHROSINE MILLOT." Good son, and worthy mother! how such examples bring us back to a love for the human race! In a fit of fanciful misanthropy, we may envy the fate of the savage, and prefer that of the bird to such as he; but impartial observation soon does justice to such paradoxes.

We find, on examination, that in the mixed good and evil of human nature, the good so far abounds that we are not in the habit of noticing it, while the evil strikes us precisely on account of its being the exception.

If nothing is perfect, nothing is so bad as to be without its compensation or its remedy.

What spiritual riches are there in the midst of the evils of society! how much does the moral world redeem the material! That which will ever distinguish man from the rest of creation, is his power of deliberate affection and of enduring self-sacrifice.

The mother who took care of her brood in the corner of my window devoted to them the necessary time for accomplishing the laws which insure the preservation of her kind; but she obeyed an instinct, and not a rational choice.