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116 ; "the first fierce agony of grief gone by, it soothes us to dwell upon the memory of the departed. It sanctifies and purifies the heart, to know that it has one sad and sacred spot, unvisited by commoner cares and meaner sorrows. We repose in the deep sense of our own faithfulness, and learn gradually to pass in thought to the other side of the tomb, and parting is forgotten in the diviner hope of a meeting where there is no farewell!"

"And that it is which makes my own thoughts so unendurable. Good God! to think in what vain sacrifice I have offered up the best hopes, the fervent and young affections of my heart! Ask yourself; would the tears shed over the grave be half as bitter as those which you have shed over the unworthy? The loss of mistress or lover is little, compared with that of love!"

This was a subject on which Francesca liked not to converse,—nor, in truth, did Guido, unless carried away for a moment into the expression of angry disappointment. It is a solace to confide our hopes, our feelings, and our thoughts; but none to impart our mortifications,—their shame is heightened, not subdued, by sympathy.

It was a few days after this conversation, that Richard Arden entered the room where his young