A Good Thing Can't Be Cruel.

He Was Wise Enough To Know That Nothing Ever Happened On This Globe, For Good, At Which Some People Did Not Have Their Fill Of Laughter In The Outset

Surely There Had Been No Figure Leaning On The Back Of His Chair; No Face Looking Over It. It Is Certain That No Gliding Footstep Touched The Floor, As He Lifted Up His Head, With A Start, And Spoke. And Yet There Was No Mirror In The Room On Whose Surface His Own Form Could Have Cast Its Shadow For A Moment; And, Something Had Passed Darkly And Gone!

The Rich, Sweet Smell Of The Hayricks Rose To His Chamber Window; The Hundred Perfumes Of The Little Flower-garden Beneath Scented The Air Around; The Deep-green Meadows Shone In The Morning Dew That Glistened On Every Leaf As It Trembled In The Gentle Air: And The Birds Sang As If Every Sparkling Drop Were A Fountain Of Inspiration To Them.

"a Child!" Said Edith, Looking At Her. "when Was I A Child? What Childhood Did You Ever Leave To Me? I Was A Woman - Artful, Designing, Mercenary, Laying Snares For Men - Before I Knew Myself, Or You, Or Even Understood The Base And Wretched Aim Of Every New Display I Learnt. You Gave Birth To A Woman. Look Upon Her. She Is In Her Pride Tonight."

The Cloud Of Caring For Nothing, Which Overshadowed Him With Such A Fatal Darkness, Was Very Rarely Pierced By The Light Within Him.