I Had Been Seasoned By Adversity, And

My Cup Of Sweets Is Not Unmingled: It Is Dashed With A Bitterness That I Cannot Hide From Myself, Disguise It As I Will.

In Love Affairs, There Is No Mediator Like A Merry, Simple-hearted Child - Ever Ready To Cement Divided Hearts, To Span The Unfriendly Gulf Of Custom, To Melt The Ice Of Cold Reserve, And Overthrow The Separating Walls Of Dread Formality And Pride.

Intimate Acquaintance Must Precede Real Friendship

This Paper Will Serve Instead Of A Confidential Friend Into Whose Ear I Might Pour Forth The Overflowings Of My Heart. It Will Not Sympathize With My Distresses, But Then, It Will Not Laugh At Them, And, If I Keep It Close, It Cannot Tell Again; So It Is, Perhaps, The Best Friend I Could Have For The Purpose.

I May Be Permitted, Like The Doctors, To Cure A Greater Evil By A Less, For I Shall Not Fall Seriously In Love With The Young Widow, I Think, Nor She With Me - That's Certain - But If I Find A Little Pleasure In Her Society I May Surely Be Allowed To Seek It; And If The Star Of Her Divinity Be Bright Enough To Dim The Lustre Of Eliza's, So Much The Better, But I Scarcely Can Think It