THE MAYFLOWER.

“Cuteness.”

He possessed a great share of that characteristic national trait so happily denominated “cuteness,” which signifies an ability to do everything without trying, to know everything without learning, and to make more use of one’s ignorance than other people do of their knowledge.


Making people like us.

It sometimes goes a great way towards making people like us to take it for granted that they do already.


A common mode of reasoning.

She therefore repeated over exactly what she said before, only in a much louder tone of voice, and with much more vehement forms of asseveration,—a mode of reasoning which, if not entirely logical, has at least the sanction of very respectable authorities among the enlightened and learned.


Danger in apparent safety.

There is no point in the history of reform, either in communities or individuals, so dangerous as that where danger seems entirely past. As long as a man thinks his health failing, he watches, he diets, and will undergo the most heroic self-denial; but let him once set himself down as cured, and how readily does he fall back to one soft, indulgent habit after another, all tending to ruin everything that he has before done!


Self-deception.

How strange that a man may appear doomed, given up, and lost, to the eye of every looker-on, before he begins to suspect himself!


Convenient duties.

What would people do if the convenient shelter of duty did not afford them a retreat in cases where they are disposed to change their minds?


Too much heart.

A man can sometimes become an old bachelor because he has too much heart, as well as too little.


Privileged truth-tellers.

These privileged truth-tellers are quite a necessary of life to young ladies in the full tide of society, and we really think it would be worth while for every dozen of them to unite to keep a person of this kind on a salary for the benefit of the whole.


Two kinds of frankness.

There is one kind of frankness which is the result of perfect unsuspiciousness, and which requires a measure of ignorance of the world and of life; this kind appeals to our generosity and tenderness. There is another which is the frankness of a strong but pure mind, acquainted with life, clear in its discrimination and upright in its intention, yet above disguise or concealment; this kind excites respect. The first seems to proceed simply from impulse, the second from impulse and reflection united; the first proceeds, in a measure, from ignorance, the second from knowledge; the first is born from an undoubting confidence in others, the second from a virtuous and well-grounded reliance on one’s self.