A Woman, Especially, If She

There Were Several Battles Between The Yorkists And The Lancastrians, In Which The Former (as They Ought) Usually Won.

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.

You Think Me Foolish To Call Instruction A Torment, But If You Had Been As Much Used As Myself To Hear Poor Little Children First Learning Their Letters And Then Learning To Spell, If You Had Ever Seen How Stupid They Can Be For A Whole Morning Together, And How Tired My Poor Mother Is At The End Of It, As I Am In The Habit Of Seeing Almost Every Day Of My Life At Home, You Would Allow That To Torment And To Instruct Might Sometimes Be Used As Synonymous Words.

Every Moment Had Its Pleasure And Its Hope.

...when Pain Is Over, The Remembrance Of It Often Becomes A Pleasure.