First.—Of the bee. If the bee could talk, he would always be boasting of his business, and would do nothing.

Moral.—Learn then from the bee, the lesson of silent perseverance.

(I think this is the lesson to be learnt.)

Second.—The wasp's sting is in its tail. So is a tale-bearer's.

Moral.—Avoid wasps and tale-bearers.

(This would come among the quips. Still I think it would be a fair Sunday quip, for even a serious circle.) Third.—Stand by Niagara Falls, and abuse them. The falls will go on the same as ever. Throw mud at them. None will stick. The power of pure water will wash it away.

Moral.—A spotless character is protected by its own integrity, and though men will try to defame it, yet it triumphs in the end.

(Don't care about this moral. Get something better out of it before to-morrow. It will do for “material.”)

Fourth.—We are born for the sake of one another.

Moral.—Find out for whom you were born, and stick to him, or her.

(Rather a frisky moral this. More for Mondays than Sundays, perhaps. Marcus Aurelius was a great man. One begins to appreciate the greatness of a maxim-maker or aphorist, when you try to do something in that line yourself.)

Fifth.—You yourself are often like those who offend you.

Moral.—When you detect the resemblance to yourself in others, treat them as you deserve to be treated. This may lead to difficulties.

(Something suggested here, by this last word.) Sixth.—Difficulties were made to be surmounted.

Moral.—Go up Mount Ararat and down the other side.

Seventhly.—The sum of social Christianity: Love your neighbour, and hate your relations.

(This will do for Sunday. Irony for Sunday. Fun for Friday À propos of irony. Who ought to have been the best writer of irony? Steele.)

Eighthly.—In a woman's youth, coquetry is natural. It is the expression of amiable indecision. At thirty, it is a science.

(Somehow I think, I've slid away from Sunday literature.)

Ninthly.—A pretty woman well “made up” is an angel ... with false wings.

(The mention of an angel, is something nearer to Sunday.)

Tenthly.—'Tis curious that when the Jews finish, the Christians begin. Their Sabbath is the last day of the week, our Sunday is the first.

(This is more like what I wanted. Only in the last three instances, there has been no moral.)

À propos of a moral. Eleventhly.—A moral in a fable is like the hook in the bait.

Moral.—Take the bait ... and leave the hook.

Twelfthly.—“The Devil,” said Voltaire, “is at the bottom of Christianity. Without the Devil Christianity would not be.”

Ah, but the Devil little thought this when he tempted Eve.

There is no particular moral to this. It does not require one.

Thirteenthly.—The bad man who attends to the convenances of religious observance, only puts polish on muddy boots.

Moral.—Clean your boots.

(Might add also, “take care of the puddles.” Popgood and Groolly will make a fortune of such a Sunday book as I am getting together. Only it will take some time to compile two hundred pages of maxims and morals.)

Fourteenthly.—Stars and pretty women at a ball don't show to advantage by daylight.

Moral.—Go to bed early.

Fifteenthly.—(A pendant). The Moon is pale from being up all night. Moral.—Same as preceding.

Sixteenthly.—Marrying for Love is like digging for gold. It is to be hoped the speculation will succeed.

Moral.—Love in haste: marry at leisure.

(Altogether, I fancy, I'm wandering from Sunday Meditations. I don't think these are the jottings of Marcus Aurelius.)

Seventeenthly.—Here is something specially for Sunday:—

If you can't pay creditors, love them. It may not be exactly fulfilling the law of your country, but the sentiment is sublime and thoroughly Christian.

(This is a moral in itself. Happy Thought.—Make a moral first and invent the fable. Good.)

Eighteenthly.—We are all so vain that we can't imagine eternal happiness too much for us. The reverse of the medal is unpalatable.

Moral.—Be 'umble.

Nineteenthly.—There are few men, if any, with whom it is possible to reason concerning either Love or Religion.

Moral.—Don't try.

Twentiethly.—Theological discussion generally comes in after dinner with the third bottle of wine.

Moral.—Get to the fourth as quickly as possible. Twenty-onethly.—Life is a perpetual Epitaph.

Moral.—Better than most epitaphs, because it's short. If you've got to write one remember this.

The last is so melancholy that I can only sit down and think. At present this will do for my Sunday Meditations.