Life tastes much the same,whether we quaff it from a golden goblet, or drink it out of a stone mug.【The hours come laden with the same mixture of joy and sorrow,no matter where we wait for them.A wai- -stcoat of broadcloth or of fustian is alike to an aching heart】,and we laugh no merrier on velvet cushions than we did on wooden chairs,Often have I sighed on those low-ceilinged rooms,yet disappointments have come neither less nor lighter since I quitted them. 【Life works upon a compensating balance,and the happiness we gain in one direction we lose in another,As our means increase,so do our desires;and we ever stand midway between the two. 】