"THERE is a book of record in your mind, Edwin," said an old man to his young friend, "a book of record, in which every act of your life is noted down.

Each morning a blank page is turned, on which the day's history is written in lines that cannot be effaced.

This book of record is your memory; and, according to what it bears, will your future life be happy or miserable.

An act done, is done forever; for, the time in which it is done, in passing, passes to return no more.

The history is written and sealed up.