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I should have said that those who have great thoughts get too much worn in working them out. I used to feel about that, even when I was a little girl; and it always seemed to me that the use I should like to make of my life would be to help some one who did great works, so that his burthen might be lighter.

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Dorothea.- Sorrow comes in so many ways. Two years ago I had no notion of that-I mean of the un'expected way in which trouble comes, and ties our hands, and makes us silent when we long to speak. I used to despise women a little for not shaping their lives more, and doing better things. I was very

fond of doing as I liked, but I have almost given it up.

Ladislaw.— I have not given up doing as I like, but I can very seldom do it. The thing one most longs for may be surrounded with conditions that would be intolerable.

Ladislaw.-I shall hardly ever see you now.

Dorothea.- No, hardly ever. But I shall hear of you. I shall know what you are doing for my uncle.

Ladislaw.— I shall know hardly anything about you. No one will tell me anything.

Dorothea.—Oh, my life is very simple. I am always at Lowick.

Ladislaw.—That is a dreadful imprisonment.

Dorothea.—No, don't think that. I have no longings. I mean, for myself. Except that I should like not to have so much more than my share without doing anything for others. But I have a belief of my own, and it comforts me.

Ladislaw.–What is that?
Dorothea.—That by desiring what is perfectly good,

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even when we don't quite know what it is and cannot do what we would, we are part of the divine power against evil-widening the skirts of light and making the struggle with darkness narrower. Ladislaw.—That is a beautiful mysticism—it is a

Dorothea.- Please not to call it by any name. You will say it is Persian, or something else geographical. It is my life. I have found it out, and cannot part with it. I have always been finding out my religion since I was a little girl. I used to pray so muchnow I hardly ever pray. I try not to have desires merely for myself, because they may not be good for others, and I have too much already. I only told you, that you might know quite well how my days go at Lowick.

Ladislaw.God bless you for telling me!

Dorothea.-What is your religion? I mean—not what you know about religion, but the belief that helps you most ?

Ladislaw.To love what is good and beautiful when I see it. But I am a rebel : I don't feel bound, as you do, to submit to what I don't like.

Dorothea.—But if you like what is good, that comes to the same thing.

It's rather a strong check to one's self-complacency to find how much of one's right doing depends on not being in want of money. A man will not be tempted to say the Lord's Prayer backward to please the devil, if he doesn't want the devil's services.

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If a man goes a little too far along a new road, it is usually himself that he harms more than any one else To think of the part one little woman can play in the life of a man, so that to renounce her may be a very good imitation of heroism, and to win her may be a discipline !

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I don't translate my own convenience into other people's duties.

There's no knowing what a mixture will turn out beforehand. Some sorts of dirt serve to clarify.

Mr Farebrother.-Men of your profession don't generally smoke.

Nor of mine either, properly, I suppose. You will hear that pipe alleged against me by Bulstrode and Company. They don't know how pleased the devil would be if I gave it up.

Lydgate.I understand. You are of an excitable temper and want a sedative. I am heavier, and should get idle with it. I should rush into idleness, and stagnate there with all my might.

Mr Farebrother.And you mean to give it all to your work. I am some ten or twelve years older than you, and have come to a compromise. I feed a weakness or two lest they should get clamorous.

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Lydgate. Don't

you

think men overrate the necessity for humouring everybody's nonsense, till they get despised by the very fools they humour? The shortest way is to make your value felt, so that people must put up

with
you whether

you

flatter them or not. Mr Farebrother.—With all my heart. But then you must be sure of having the value, and you must keep yourself independent. Very few men can do that.

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Either you slip out of service altogether, and become good for nothing, or you wear the harness and draw a good deal where your yoke-fellows pull you.

(To Lydgate.) —Take care-experto crede-take care not to get hampered about money matters. I know, by a word you let fall one day, that you don't like my playing at cards so much for money. You are right enough there. But try and keep clear of wanting small sums that you haven't got. I am perhaps talking rather superfluously; but a man likes to assume superiority over himself, by holding up his bad example and sermonising on it.

Mary.—What a brown patch I by the side of you, Rosy! You are the most unbecoming companion.

Rosamond Vincy.-Oh no! No one thinks of your appearance, you are so sensible and useful, Mary. Beauty is of very little consequence in reality.

Mary.—You mean my beauty.
Rosamond.What have you been doing lately?

Mary.—I? Oh, minding the house-pouring out syrup — pretending to be amiable and contentedlearning to have a bad opinion of everybody.

Rosamond. It is a wretched life for you.

Mary.—No. I think my life is pleasanter than your Miss Morgan's.

Rosamond.Yes; but Miss Morgan is so uninteresting, and not young.

Mary. She is interesting to herself, I suppose ; and I am not at all sure that everything gets easier as one gets older.

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I suppose we never quite understand why another dislikes what we like.

To me it is one of the most odious things in a girl's life, that there must always be some supposition of . falling in love coming between her and any man who is kind to her, and to whom she is grateful.

Fred Vincy.—I don't see how a man is to be good for much unless he has some one woman to love him dearly.

Mary.- I think the goodness should come before he expects that.

Fred. You know better, Mary. Women don't love men for their goodness.

Mary.—Perhaps not. But if they love them, they never think them bad.

ence.

Fred Vincy.—I suppose a woman is never in love with any one she has always known—ever since she can remember; as a man often is. It is always some new fellow who strikes a girl. Mary.—Let me see. I must go back on my experi

There is Juliet-she seems an example of what you say. But then Ophelia had probably known Hamlet a long while; and Brenda Troil-she had known Mordaunt Merton ever since they were children; but then he seems to have been an estimable young man; and Minna was still more deeply in love with Cleveland, who was a stranger. Waverley was new to Flora MacIvor; but then she did not fall in love with him. And there are Olivia and Sophia Primrose, and Corinne—they may be said to have

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