"Pardon me, ye dear spirits of benevolence, whose benign smiles and chearful-giving hand have strewed sweet flowers on many a thorny path through which my way-ward fate forced me to pass; think not, that, in condemning the unfeeling texture of the human heart, I forget the spring from whence flow an the comforts I enjoy: oh no! I look up to you as to bright constellations, gathering new splendours from the surrounding darkness; but ah! whilst I adore the benignant rays that cheared and illumined my heart, I mourn that their influence cannot extend to all the sons and daughters of affliction."
— Rowson, Susanna (1762-1828)
(II.xxix, pp. 90-1; pp. 112-3 in Penguin edition)
Text from U.Va. edition. Reading in Charlotte Temple and Lucy Temple, ed. Ann Douglas (New York: Penguin, 1991).