None But A Woman Can Teach The

My Style Of Writing Is Very Diffrent From Yours.

He Then Departed, To Make Himself Still More Interesting, In The Midst Of A Heavy Rain.

Where Any One Body Of Educated Men, Of Whatever Denomination, Are Condemned Indiscriminately, There Must Be A Deficiency Of Information, Or...of Something Else.

It Was Absolutely Necessary To Interrupt Him Now.

Her Pleasure In The Walk Must Arise From The Exercise And The Day, From The View Of The Last Smiles Of The Year Upon The Tawny Leaves And Withered Hedges, And From Repeating To Herself Some Few Of The Thousand Poetical Descriptions Extant Of Autumn-that Season Of Peculiar And Inexhaustible Influence On The Mind Of Taste And Tenderness-that Season Which Has Drawn From Every Poet Worthy Of Being Read Some Attempt At Description, Or Some Lines Of Feeling.