Its history cannot be told without intertwining it with the lives of distinguished men and the great events that have befallen the country." "True, Laurence,'" replied Grandfather, smiling; "we must write a book with some such title as this: MEMOIRS OF MY OWN TIMES, BY GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR." "That would be beautiful!" exclaimed Laurence, clapping his hands.
"But, after all," continued Grandfather, "any other old chair, if it possessed memory and a hand to write its recollections, could record stranger stories than any that I have told you.

From generation to generation, a chair sits familiarly in the midst of human interests, and is witness to the most secret and confidential intercourse that mortal man can hold with his fellow.

The human heart may best be read in the fireside chair.

And as to external events, Grief and Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and within it.

Now we see the glad face and glowing form of Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, and throwing a warm firelight radiance over all the household.