Wesley,
when he was in trouble, asked himself "whether he should fight against
it by thinking, or by not thinking of it," and a wise man told him "to
be still and go on." A certain blind instinct seems to carry me
forward. What is it? an indication of a purpose I do not comprehend? an
order given by the Commander-in-Chief which is to be obeyed although the
strategy is not understood?
November 3rd.--Palmer, my maid, who has been with me ever since I began
to keep house, was very good-looking at one-and-twenty. When she had
been engaged to be married about a twelvemonth, she burned her face and
the burn left a bad scar. Her lover found excuses for breaking off the
engagement. He must have been a scoundrel, and I should like to have
had him whipped with wire. She was very fond of him. She had an offer
of marriage ten years afterwards, but she refused. I believe she feared
lest the scar, seen every day, would make her husband loathe her. Her
case is worse than mine, for she never knew such delights as mine.
She has subsisted on mere friendliness and civility.
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