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put that which was most material in the postscript.

And he wrote in the king Ahasuerus' name, and sealed it with the king's ring, and sent letters by posts on horseback, and riders on mules, camels, and young dromedaries: . . . . So the posts that rode upon mules and camels went out, being hastened and pressed on by the king's commandment. And the decrees was given at Shushan the palace.

Now my days are swifter than a post: they flee away, they see no good.

The postman always rings twice.

He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, Cold and yet cheerful; messenger of grief Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some.

Belshazzar had a letter,-- He never had but one; Belshazzar's correspondence Concluded and begun In that immortal copy The conscience of us all Can read without its glasses On revelation's wall.

The welcome news is in the letter found; The carrier's not commission'd to expound; It speaks itself, and what it does contain, In all things needful to be known is plain.

Carrier of news and knowledge, Instrument of trade and industry, Promoter of mutual acquaintance, Of peace and good-will Among men and nations.

Messenger of sympathy and love, Servant of parted friends, Consoler of the lonely, Bond of the scattered family, Enlarger of the common life.

Every day brings a ship, Every ship brings a word; Well for those who have no fear, Looking seaward well assured That the word the vessel brings Is the word they wish to hear.

Thy letter sent to prove me, Inflicts no sense of wrong; No longer wilt thou love me,-- Thy letter, though is long.

Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear, Unite division, and draw distance near; Their magic force each silent wish conveys, And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways: Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean, For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.

An exquisite invention this, Worthy of Love's most honeyed kiss,-- This art of writing billet-doux-- In buds, and odors, and bright hues! In saying all one feels and thinks In clever daffodils and pinks; In puns of tulips; and in phrases, Charming for their truth, of daisies.

A strange volume of real life in the daily packet of the postman. Eternal love and instant payment!

A piece of simple goodness--a letter gushing from the heart; a beautiful unstudied vindication of the worth and untiring sweetness of human nature--a record of the invulnerability of man, armed with high purpose, sanctified by truth.

Kind messages, that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!

Good-bye--my paper's out so nearly, I've only room for, Yours sincerely.

I have only made this letter rather long because I have not had time to make it shorter.

Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose, That well-known name awakens all my woes.