But Her's Was The Misery Of Innocence,

How Mutable Are Our Feelings, And How Strange Is That Clinging Love We Have Of Life Even In The Excess Of Misery!

The Instructor Can Scarcely Give Sensibility Where It Is Essentially Wanting, Nor Talent To The Unpercipient Block. But He Can Cultivate And Direct The Affections Of The Pupil, Who Puts Forth, As A Parasite, Tendrils By Which To Cling, Not Knowing To What - To A Supporter Or A Destroyer.

I Required Kindness And Sympathy, But I Did Not Believe Myself Utterly Unworthy Of It.

I Cherished Hope, It Is True, But It Vanished When My Person Reflected . . .

From My Infancy I Was Imbued With High Hopes And A Lofty Ambition.