If we mistake not, vigor rather than feebleness will be seen in her remarks upon that vast and inexhaustible subject, which now engaged her most,--education. She had always thought herself incompetent to teach; and no burden or responsibility did she feel more painfully, than that of opening, furnishing, and guiding the minds of children. This can never seem a light or easy task, unless to the superficial in self-knowledge and conscientiousness. Where the religious principle and the moral aim are like hers, we can understand any confessions of humility or distrust, in view of such a work; and we do not doubt the entire sincerity of the fear she more than once expressed, that she had almost done _wrong_ in giving up the reluctance she at first felt to assume the office of a wife and mother, on account of her disqualification for so great a charge. And now that it had become an undivided charge, now that her children were left to her alone, and she had engaged to be their teacher and sole guardian, she felt that the duty, the solicitude, and the happiness of her life were centred there. "O my dear child!"--she exclaims, in addressing one of them, and referring to all,--"when I think of what you _may be_, my heart beats almost impatiently to stretch forward; for if life is ever again to have any zest to me, ever to seem like life, it must be through the successful struggles of my children. On them I now must rely for all I can enjoy of this world; their affection, their character, must be my sole dependence." In a letter to Emma, a little later, she speaks of her suffering from the real or imagined loss of power, particularly in reference to the young. "I sometimes think that some strange change has taken place in my 'physical'; for I cannot otherwise account for the torpor which hangs over my mind. All the little animation I ever had seems to have departed; and, although my mind is crowded with thoughts, they are a dead letter when I attempt to use them for purposes of conversation. I feel this to be a great evil in my intercourse with children. To be sure, their own inexhaustible spirits are mostly sufficient to their happiness; yet they need sympathy, not formally expressed, but existing in the atmosphere about them. I think I have felt the want all my life of a more cheerful home in early childhood, a fuller participation in the pleasures and 'follies' of youth. I want to have my children remember their home as the happiest spot, because the most sympathetic as well as the most loving."