Chapter 9

           Iwaitedandwaited,andthedays,astheyelapsed,tooksomethingfrommyconsternation.Averyfewofthem,infact,passing,inconstantsightofmypupils,withoutafreshincident,sufficedtogivetogrievousfanciesandeventoodiousmemoriesakindofbrushofthesponge.IhavespokenofthesurrendertotheirextraordinarychildishgraceasathingIcouldactivelycultivate,anditmaybeimaginedifIneglectednowtoaddressmyselftothissourceforwhateveritwouldyield.StrangerthanIcanexpress,certainly,wastheefforttostruggleagainstmynewlights;itwoulddoubtlesshavebeen,however,agreatertensionstillhaditnotbeensofrequentlysuccessful.IusedtowonderhowmylittlechargescouldhelpguessingthatIthoughtstrangethingsaboutthem;andthecircumstancesthatthesethingsonlymadethemmoreinterestingwasnotbyitselfadirectaidtokeepingtheminthedark.Itrembledlesttheyshouldseethattheyweresoimmenselymoreinteresting.Puttingthingsattheworst,atallevents,asinmeditationIsooftendid,anycloudingoftheirinnocencecouldonlybe—blamelessandforedoomedastheywere—areasonthemorefortakingrisks.Thereweremomentswhen,byanirresistibleimpulse,Ifoundmyselfcatchingthemupandpressingthemtomyheart.