We Do Not Suffer By Accident.

In A Letter From Bath To Her Sister, Cassandra, One Senses Her Frustration At Her Sheltered Existence, Tuesday, 12 May 1801. Another Stupid Party . . . With Six People To Look On, And Talk Nonsense To Each Other.

I Am Excessively Fond Of A Cottage; There Is Always So Much Comfort, So Much Elegance About Them. And I Protest, If I Had Any Money To Spare, I Should Buy A Little Land And Build One Myself, Within A Short Distance Of London, Where I Might Drive Myself Down At Any Time, And Collect A Few Friends About Me And Be Happy. I Advise Everybody Who Is Going To Build, To Build A Cottage.

We Can All Begin Freely—a Slight Preference Is Natural Enough; But There Are Very Few Of Us Who Have Heart Enough To Be Really In Love Without Encouragement.

Whatever Bears Affinity To Cunning Is Despicable.

Nobody, Who Has Not Been In The Interior Of A Family, Can Say What The Difficulties Of Any Individual Of That Family May Be.