. . . Men Seldom Risk Their

I Never Pretend To Be So Superior A Being As To Be Above Having And Indulging A Hobby Horse [her Journal Writing], And While I Keep Mine Within Due Bounds And Limits, Nobody, I Flatter Myself, Would Wish To Deprive Me Of The Poor Animal: To Be Sure, He Is Not Formed For Labour, And Is Rather Lame And Weak, But Then The Dear Creature Is Faithful, Constant, And Loving, And Though He Sometimes Prances, Would Not Kick Anyone Into The Mire, Or Hurt A Single Soul For The World--and I Would Not Part With Him For One Who Could Win The Greatest Prize That Ever Was Won At Any Races.

Childhood Is Never Troubled With Foresight.

How Truly Does This Journal Contain My Real And Undisguised Thoughts--i Always Write It According To The Humour I Am In, And If Astranger Was To Think It Worth Reading, How Capricious--insolent & Whimsical I Must Appear!--one Moment Flighty And Half Mad,--the Next Sad And Melancholy. No Matter! Its Truth And Simplicity Are Its Sole Recommendations.

I Am Too Inexperienced And Ignorant To Conduct Myself With Propriety In This Town, Where Every Thing Is New To Me, And Many Things Are Unaccountable And Perplexing.

The Spring Is Generally Fertile In New Acquaintances.