uite as much a child as they are. I could not bring myself to lose the
darlings' sweet caresses. I could not live without the feeling that
at any moment I can fly to Armand's bedside and watch his slumbers or
snatch a kiss.

Yet home education is not without its drawbacks, to which I am fully
alive. Society, like nature, is a jealous power, and will have not her
rights encroached on, or her system set at naught. Thus, children who
are brought up at home are exposed too early to the fire of the world;
they see its passions and become at home with its subterfuges. The finer
distinctions, which regulate the conduct of matured men and women, elude
their perceptions, and they take feeling and passion for their guide
instead of subordinating those to the code of society; whilst the gay
trappings and tinsel which attract so much of the world's favor blind
them to the importance of the more sober virtues. A child of fifteen
with the assurance of a man of the world is a thing against all nature;
at twenty-five he will be prematurely old, and his precocious knowledge
only unfits him for the genuine study on which all solid ability must
rest. Life in society is one long comedy, and those who take part in it,
like other actors, reflect back impressions which never penetrate
below the surface. A mother, therefore, who wishes not to part from her
children, must resolutely determine that they shall not enter the gay
world; she must have courage to resist their inclinations, as well
as her own, and keep them in the background. Cornelia had to keep her
jewels under lock and key. Shall I do less for the children who are all
the world to me?

Now that I am thirty, the heat of the day is over, the hardest bit of
the road lies behind me. In a few years I shall be an old woman, and the
sense of duty done is an immense encouragement. It would almost seem as
though my trio can read my thoughts and shape themselves accordingly. A
mysterious bond of sympathy unites me to these children who have never
left my side. If they knew the blank in my life which they have to fill,
they could not be more lavish of the solace they bring.

Armand, who was dull and dreamy during his first three years at school,
and caused me some uneasiness, has made a sudden start. Doubtless
he realized, in a way most children never do, the aim of all this
preparatory work, which is to sharpen the intelligence, to get them into
habits of application and accustom them to t