...once I Falsely Hoped To Meet The

You Will Rejoice To Hear That No Disaster Has Accompanied The Commencement Of An Enterprise Which You Have Regarded With Such Evil Forebodings.

Till Society Is Very Differently Constituted, Parents, I Fear, Will Still Insist On Being Obeyed Because They Will Be Obeyed, And Constantly Endeavor To Settle That Power On A Divine Right Which Will Not Bear The Investigation Of Reason.

Look Forward To Future Years, If Not With Eager Anticipation, Yet With A Calm Reliance Upon The Power Of Good, Wholly Remote From Despair.

Our Feelings Probably Are Not Less Strong At Fifty Than They Were Ten Or Fifteen Years Before; But They Have Changed Their Objects, And Dwell On Far Different Prospects. At Five-and-thirty A Man Thinks Of What His Own Existence Is; When The Maturity Of Age Has Grown Into Its Autumn, He Is Wrapt Up In That Of Others. The Loss Of Wife Or Child Then Becomes More Deplorable, As Being Impossible To Repair; For No Fresh Connection Can Give Us Back The Companion Of Our Earlier Years, Nor A "new-sprung Race" Compensate For That, Whose Career We Hoped To See Run.

In My Joy I Thrust My Hand Into The Live Embers, But Quickly Drew It Out With A Cry Of Pain. How Strange, I Thought That The Same Cause Should Produce Such Opposite Effects.