generous beliefs! As to love—does it dare to treasure its deepest feelings in the presence of what we call the world? As to friendship—how many would weigh your dearest interest for one instant against the very lightest of their own? And as to fame, of what avail is it in the grave?—and during life it will be denied, or dealt forth grudgingly. No, no! To be as indifferent as you can possibly contrive—to aim only at present amusement and passing popularity—is the best system for a steam-coach along the railroad of life. Let who will break the stones, and keep up the fire!"
With the aid of her cousins she once ventured on some German translations, to which she thus alludes:—
"I am hard at work on my 'Count Egmont.' The denouement will require entire alteration, and the Germans must have the patience of Job to stand such long speeches. The lover greatly diverts me. He politely informs the audience, that in his despair he threw himself into the water, but grew frightened, and swam back to the land. Next he gets poison, but he does not at all fancy taking it (should you?), so he retires, declaring he is quite sure he shall die of a broken heart."
The Misses Lance were now about to quit the house in Hans-place: with this reference to the event, we pass to other subjects:—
"Was there ever anything so unlucky as the house in Hans-place letting just when it did? It might have made up its mind before I left, or waited till I returned. How I shall miss the Misses Lance! The more I think over their constant kindness, the more deeply I feel I shall never meet again with such sincere, such disinterested friends. I regret the change, oh! so much! I had adapted myself
