The human heart may best be read in the fireside chair.

And as to external events, Grief and Joy keep a continual vicissitude around it and within it.

Now we see the glad face and glowing form of Joy, sitting merrily in the old chair, and throwing a warm fire-light radiance over all the household.

Now, while we thought not of it, the dark clad mourner, Grief, has stolen into the place of Joy, but not to retain it long.

The imagination can hardly grasp so wide a subject, as is embraced in the experience of a family chair." "It makes my breath flutter,--my heart thrill,--to think of it," said Laurence.