fectly satisfied with what another may do for him, but we
may be grateful, for all; and gratitude is the soil on which joy
thrives.

*

(First Sunday in May.)--On Sunday afternoons, when I may not work, I
long to drive through the park in a caleche which is easy on its
springs; not to be always walking or obliged to be doing something. To
move through the world in the springtime, seated on soft cushions and
drawn by fleet horses, or, what is still better, to ride along the
turfy forest paths, while guiding and controlling a strong power--I can
never forget that.

*

At night, when I look up into the vast, starry vault, with its myriad
glittering orbs, I find it difficult to sit or to walk. I think of the
nights when, lying back in my carriage, I drove out into the wide world
and looked up at the stars. How free everything was then! I am still
much affected by trifles.

*

There are days when I cannot endure the forest, when I do not wish for
shade. I must then have the sun--nothing but light and sunshine. At
such times, I walk along the hot and shadeless meadow paths.

*

I now have a window-shelf filled with flower-pots. How different when
one has to wait for the flowers to come up, instead of receiving them
in full bloom from the gardener.

*

The evenings are my enemy--always heavy and dull. Morn is my friend,
for then everything is bright. How different it once was!

*

The mental state of those who are out in the world may be likened to
the physical condition of Baroness Constance. There is a constant
ringing in her ears, and she knows nothing of holy repose or perfect
silence. It is not until one ceases to know anything of the world, or
to care for it, that this mental ringing in the ears ceases, and holy
repose and calm are vouchsafed us. Every sound which then enters is as
a marvel.

*

The grandmother is quiet and alert, just as occasion may require. She
is not one of the ever busy and excited ones, and yet she is never
idle. With her great knowledge of human nature, she yet retains her
kindly feelings toward all. She has thought much and yet is _naive_.
She treats me with affectionate frankness, and says that she has, all
her life, wished to have a cl