always seemed to me to clearly
perceive, in a conflict of duties, which is the higher, and those are
the happiest and most ingenious who can do so. If goodness were a
perfectly simple matter, what would be more delightful than always to
be good? But that reason must put in its word where affairs of the
heart are concerned, that we must think of what is customary, and often
come to no positive decision, is sad, because it makes us doubt that on
which we should most rely, our own consciences, and---whichever path we
may choose--leaves in the soul a sting, a something to regret.

"We are firmly convinced that it is our duty to offend no one. It is
the law of the gospel, as well as of our deepest feelings, which deals
with all the sorrows of the world, and therefore makes every
individual, out of compassion for the others, labor to alleviate the
misery of the world. And now each individual again strives toward
perfection, to the full extent of his powers, and yet can rarely carry
his point without injuring others, as a tree in the midst of a forest
has only just as much light and air as the neighboring trees admit. And
therefore many a one withers and pines away, knowing it, foreseeing the
end, and obliged to be silent--

"Yes, obliged to be silent even if speech would injure no one, when a
mere prejudice decides it to be unseemly to grow beyond a certain
height and breadth, and that those who are exceptions, would be struck
by lightening; Oh! why must----"

Here several lines were erased. Then on a fresh page was a letter:

"_I never dreamed that I should ever give this volume to any one, least
of all that it would come to your notice, my honored teacher. But
father wishes that the instruction for which I owe such inexpressible
gratitude, should cease, that for some time I should turn my thoughts
from all that was the subject of your lessons. He begged me to destroy
these pages too. But I cannot yet resolve to do so, and requested him
to allow me to place the volume in your care. So what came from, you
returns to you again.--I beg you not to laugh at the earlier records,
if you happen to cast a glance at them. I must now dispense with that
which during the past few weeks has occupied all my thoughts and
feelings, and for which I can never thank you enough! How deeply this
grieves me I cannot tell you, and yet I feel that it would be the only
thanks I could offer, if I could make you fully understand how much I
shall