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    eaning.▓ One day, some six or seve●n weeks after Granville’s appearance at Ashford▓, Clara had just comfortably seated he

    on was a▓t
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    rself at ●her desk, after seeing Laura en▓sconced in her little pony c▓haise, when she was startled by hearing Sir ▓Dudley’

    her side onc
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    s voice, in accents of unusual se●riousness, close beside her. “Wi●ll you tell me, Miss Stanley, how you can● possibly co

    e more—it w

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ntrive to unite ▓so perfectly the literary with ▓the domestic characters I have watched, bu▓t cannot find you fail in either—how is t▓his” “Simply, Sir Dudley, because●, in my opinion, it is impossible to div▓ide them.Perfect in them, indeed, I am not▓; but though I know it is possible for woman ●to be domestic without being literary—as we a▓re all not equally endowed by Pro▓vidence—to my feelings, it i●s not possible to be

more than usually g●ifted without being domestic▓.The appeal to the heart mus▓t come from the heart; and the quick sensibili●ty of the imaginative woman must▓ make her feel for others, and● act for them, more particularly for the loved▓ of home.To write, we must thi●nk, and if we think of duty, we, of all others,● must not fail in its performance, or● our own words are bitter with reproach.It is ▓from want of thought most failings



spring●, alike in duty as in feeling.From this ▓want the literary and imaginative wo●man must be free.” Granville’s eyes ●never moved from the fair, expressive f▓ace of the gentle woman who thus spoke, ti●ll she ceased, and then he paced the● room in silence; til

Day after day did Clar▓a Stanley and Sir Du



l, seating himself besi●de her, he besought her to list▓en to him, and pity and forgive▓ him, and prove that she forgave him; and▓, ere she could reply, he poured fo●rth the tale of his earlier love—h▓ow truly he loved her, even when his idle p●rejudices against lit

r secret was st▓ill her own, and grateful t

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erary women caused him to ●fly from her influence, and enter into ●a hurried engagement with one, beautiful indeed▓, but, from having no resources within ▓herself, the mere votaress of▓ pleasure and outward excitemen▓t.How bitterly he had repented through seven▓ wear

s only that of an obliged ▓and appreciating


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or ever, unless she wo●uld give it in herself! Clara’s ▓face was turned from him as he spoke, b▓ut, ere he concluded, the quick, brig▓ht tears were falling in her lap; and when s●he tried to meet his glance and speak, he●r lip so quivered that no words came.It was a●n effort ere she could tell her tale; ▓but it was told at length, though Granville’s● ardent gratitude was for the m●oment checked by her serious r●ejoinder. “It is no shame now●, dear Granville, to confess how deepl●y and constantly I have returned your affec●tion; but listen to me

ere you proceed fur▓ther.I do not doubt what you say, that your● prejudices are all removed; but are you▓ certain, quite certain, that a woman who ha▓s resources of mind as well as of hear●t can make you happy, as you▓ believe At one-and-twenty yo▓u could have moulded me to what you plea▓sed.I doubt whether I should hav●e written another line, had you not a▓pproved of my doing it.At one-and-thirty this▓ cannot be.My character—my habi●ts are formed.I cannot draw back from my liter▓ary path, for I feel it accomplishe▓s good.Can I indeed make your● happin

ess as I am Dearest Granville, do not ●let feeling alone decide.” “Feeling! sen▓se! reason! Clara—my own Clara—all sp▓eak and have spoken long.Make my ch▓ild but like yourself, and w●ith two such blessings I dare not picture what● life would be—too, too much joy.” ▓ And joy it was.Joy as it▓ seemed.Granville has felt t▓hat for once imagination fell short of re▓ality, for his path is indeed one of sun▓shine; and as Lady Granville, the authores●s, continues her path of liter●ary and domestic usefulness, p●roving to the full how very possible it

is for w●oman to unite the two, and that our great po●et[3] is right when, in contradiction to Moore’▓s shallow theory of the unfitness of genius to d●omestic happiness, he answered—“It is not bec▓ause they possess genius that they make unhappy ▓homes, but because they do not posse●ss genius enough.A higher order of mind wo▓uld enable them to see and f▓eel all the beauty of domestic ties.” ▓3.Wordsworth. Helon. A FRAGMENT F▓ROM JEWISH HISTORY. “Joy! joy! Spring hath ▓come! Bounding o’er the earth, Laughing in ▓the insect’s hum, In the f●l

ow’ret’s birth. Ere his spirit springs abo▓ve, Summer’s wreath to twine, Oh, what joy ●for me, my love! Then thou wilt ▓be mine! “Joy! joy! though awhile, ▓Dearest, we must part, Warm●ly will thy sunny smile Rest upon my hear▓t. Spring the earth is greeting, love●, With a crown of flowers; For the h▓our of meeting, love, Sweet▓er hopes are ours.” So sung, in▓ a rich, mellow, though somew●hat subdued voice, a young man,● as he stood beneath the window of a grim ol▓d mansion.The sun had but just risen, and ●sky and earth seemed still ba

thed in▓ his soft rosy glow.Flowers● of delicate form and many a b●rilliant tint were gemming the greensward, which● looked fresh and bright as ▓emerald.Fringed with hoary rocks and▓ thick dark woods, lay the d▓eep blue waters of the lovely ●Rhine, seeming as if the spirits of the earl▓y morning had flung on them a ▓rich robe of golden sheen.Even the bl●ack forest in the far distance, and ●the old, apparently half-rui●nous mansion itself, all but● laughed in the glowing light; h▓ailing, as they did, the new● birth of nature, as well as that of the day.

▓Spring had, within the last f●ew days, leaped from the arms of▓ winter; and flowers and birds, and ea●rth and sky, welcomed his birth, as wi▓th a very jubilee of gladness. ▓The deep seclusion of the scene, ho●wever, was remarkable: castles and ▓towns, convents and monasteries, ge●nerally studded the banks of the▓ Rhine, even as early as the cl▓ose of the eleventh century, the period of● our narrative; but here there ▓was not a habitation of any kind visib▓le, save this one old house and its▓ out-door offices. It was a He▓brew school or college,

the origin of which▓ was so far removed into the p●ast as to be involved in mystery.F●rom its extreme seclusion it● had remained undisturbed, when elsewher●e every trace of Israels locality had been wash●ed out in blood.Century after ce●ntury beheld it occupied by a succ▓ession of venerable teachers, learned ▓in all the mysteries of their law, an▓d faithful to its every ordinance; by ●some few Hebrew families who, from being pupils▓, loved its peaceful seclusion to●o well to exchange it for the dangers of to●wns; and by some youths, brought there by anx?/p>

駃ous parents, or there own will▓, to learn such lessons as w●ould bid them live to glorify their fait▓h, or die to seal its truth with bloo▓d. The young minstrel, whose song we have ▓given, had been one of these pupils since t●he age of ten, and was about returning▓ to Worms, his native city, to see hi●s widowed mother, from whom ▓he had been parted fourteen ▓years, obtain her blessing on his c▓hoice (the daughter of one of his teachers), ●and then return for his betrothed, either to d▓well in this safe retreat or elsewh●ere, as circumstances might b

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ves upon the heart, was fully ▓displayed.It was purely spiritually noble●; expressive of every emotion which▓ can elevate and rejoice, and utterly devoid of● that abject

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mien and fearfu▓l glance, the brand which persecution laid on● the Israelites of towns. A swe▓et face appeared for a minute at the window as▓ the song ceased; a smile


sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.


whos▓e sunny warmth the poet had, not too ▓glowingly described, a fond wave of t

he hand●, and then

the window was ten

antle▓ss again, and the young man turned aw▓ay, still

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