[i]n The Gloomy Month Of

Who Ever Hears Of Fat Men Heading A Riot, Or Herding Together In Turbulent Mobs? No - No, Your Lean, Hungry Men Who Are Continually Worrying Society, And Setting The Whole Community By The Ears.

To Look Upon Its Grass Grown Yard, Where The Sunbeams Seem To Sleep So Quietly, One Would Think That There At Least The Dead Might Rest In Peace.

Luxury Spreads Its Ample Board Before Their Eyes; But They Are Excluded From The Banquet. Plenty Revels Over The Fields; But Theyare Starving In The Midst Of Its Abundance: The Whole Wilderness Has Blossomed Into A Garden; But They Feel As Reptiles That Infest It.

Man Passes Away; His Name Perishes From Record And Recollection; His History Is As A Tale That Is Told, And His Very Monument Becomes A Ruin.

Good Temper, Like A Sunny Day, Sheds A Ray Of Brightness Over Everything; It Is The Sweetener Of Toil And The Soother Of Disquietude!