Eclectics.—Eclectics, in philosophy, are for the most part les demi-esprits, who are incapable of viewing facts in their wholeness; just as the eclectics in politics are they who want the honesty to be quite pure, and the courage to be quite rogues. Such persons make systems from inconsistent scraps, taken from discordant philosophy, with the same taste as the architects of the Middle Ages erected barbarous edifices with the beautiful fragments of antiquity.—Lady Morgan.
Conversation.—There is scarcely any source of enjoyment more immediately connected at once with the heart and with the mind, than that of listening to a sensible and amiable woman when she converses in a melodious and well-regulated voice, when her language and pronunciation are easy and correct, and when she knows how to adapt her conversation to the characters and habits of those around her.—Mrs. Ellis.
Dreams of Youth.—Clouds weave the summer into the season of autumn; and youth rises from dashed hopes into the stature of a man.
Well, it is even so, that the passionate dreams of youth break up and wither. Vanity becomes tempered with wholesome pride, and passion yields to the riper judgment of manhood; even as the August heats pass on and over into the genial glow of a September sun. There is a strong growth in the struggles against mortified pride; and then only does the youth get an ennobling consciousness of that manhood which is dawning in him, when he has fairly surmounted those puny vexations which a wounded vanity creates.
But God manages the seasons better than we; and in a day, or an hour perhaps, the cloud will pass, and the heavens glow again upon our ungrateful heads.—Ik Marvel.
Right Preparation for Marriage.—We are thoroughly acquainted with each other's character, tastes, and habits; and both of us believe there is a singular, even an extraordinary degree of mutual adaptation in all our views, feelings, and wishes. Perhaps I might have mentioned that my dear friend is about six years younger than myself. Two months hence I shall be thirty-seven years of age. Our acquaintance has now been as much as seven years, and our avowed engagement about five. I regret that the union has been unavoidably deferred to so advanced a period of life; but I never wish I had been married very young. I do feel grateful to Heaven for the combination of valuable gifts I hope for in my beloved. Her conscience, intellect, and tenderness are the chief. In her society and co-operation, I do indulge a sanguine hope of improving in every respect, by a more quiet and pleasing manner than I have done in a given space during all these past years of gloomy solitude.—John Foster.