tablished at the Seminary.

"December 24, 1824. Here I am at last; and what a naughty girl I was,
when I was at aunt Schuyler's, that I did not write you every thing!
But to tell the truth, I was topsy-turvy, and so I am now. But in
despite of calls from the young ladies, and of a hundred new faces,
and new names which are constantly ringing in my ears, I have set
myself down, and will not rise until I have written an account of
every thing to my dear mother. I am contented; yet, notwithstanding, I
have once or twice turned a wistful glance towards my dear-loved home.
Amidst all the parade of wealth, in the splendid apartments of
luxury, I can assure you, my dearest mother, that I had rather be
with you, in our own lowly home, than in the midst of all this
ceremony." "O mamma, I like Mrs. W. 'And so this is my little girl,'
said she, and took me affectionately by the hand. O, I want to see you
so much! But I must not think of it now; I must learn as fast as I
can, and think only of my studies. Dear, dear little Margaret! Kiss
her and the little boys for me. How is dear father getting on in this
rattling world?"

The transplanting a flower of so delicate a constitution from the
clear air of Lake Champlain to the close atmosphere of a city
boarding-school, was followed by consequences which might have been
expected. Almost from her arrival, Lucretia's letters speak of
ill-health and unhappiness, aggravated by the fear that her progress
in studies, thus frequently interrupted, would disappoint the
expectations of her kind benefactor, for whom she seems to have
cherished the most affectionate and grateful feelings. Neither do the
excitements of a large public seminary seem well adapted to one of so
sensitive a nature. In the course of time, the public examination
approached, and for the two months preceding it, she was kept in a
state of constant agitation and dread, which is thus spoken of in a
half-serious, half-jesting letter to her mother: "We are all engaged,
heart and hand, preparing for this awful examination. O, how I dread
it! But there is no retreat. I must stand firm to my post, or
experience the anger, vengeance, and punishments, which will, in case
of delinquency or flight, be exercised with the most unforgiving
acrimony. We are in such cases excommunicated, henceforth and
forever, under the awful ban of holy Seminary; and the evil eye of
false report is upon us. O mamma, I do, though, jesting apart, dread
t