very
much milder."

Thus, man's judgments are formed less from reason than from sensation;
and as sensation comes to him from the outward world, so he finds
himself more or less under its influence; by little and little he
imbibes a portion of his habits and feelings from it.

It is not, then, without cause that, when we wish to judge of a
stranger beforehand, we look for indications of his character in the
circumstances which surround him. The things among which we live are
necessarily made to take our image, and we unconsciously leave in them
a thousand impressions of our minds. As we can judge by an empty bed
of the height and attitude of him who has slept in it, so the abode of
every man discovers to a close observer the extent of his intelligence
and the feelings of his heart. Bernardin de St.-Pierre has related the
story of a young girl who refused a suitor because he would never have
flowers or domestic animals in his house. Perhaps the sentence was
severe, but not without reason. We may presume that a man insensible
to beauty and to humble affection must be ill prepared to feel the
enjoyments of a happy marriage.

14th, seven o'clock P.M.--This morning, as I was opening my journal to
write, I had a visit from our old cashier.

His sight is not so good as it was, his hand begins to shake, and the
work he was able to do formerly is now becoming somewhat laborious to
him. I had undertaken to write out some of his papers, and he came for
those I had finished.

We conversed a long time by the stove, while he was drinking a cup of
coffee which I made him take.

M. Rateau is a sensible man, who has observed much and speaks little; so
that he has always something to say.

While looking over the accounts I had prepared for him, his look fell
upon my journal, and I was obliged to acknowledge that in this way I
wrote a diary of my actions and thoughts every evening for private use.
From one thing to another, I began speaking to him of my dream the day
before, and my reflections about the influence of outward objects upon
our ordinary sentiments. He smiled.

"Ah! you, too, have my superstitions," he said, quietly. "I have always
believed, like you, that you may know the game by the lair: it is
only necessary to have tact and experience; but without them we commit
ourselves to many rash judgments. For my part. I have been guilty of
this more than once, but sometimes I have also drawn a right conclusion.
I recolle