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Tales And Novels, Vol. 8 by Maria Edgeworth
Book, page 471 / 485


_better_ oracle, to be consulted--your reason? Whilst the "doubtful beam
still nods from side to side," you may with a steady hand weigh your own
motives, and determine what things will be essential to your happiness, and
what _price_ you will pay for them; for

  "Each pleasure has its _price_; and they who pay
   Too much of pain, but squander life away."

Do me the justice to believe that I do not quote these lines of Dryden
as being the finest poetry he ever wrote; for poets, you know, as Waller
wittily observed, never succeed so well in truth as in fiction.

Since we cannot in life expect to realize all our wishes, we must
distinguish those which claim the rank of wants. We must separate the
fanciful from the real, or at least make the one subservient to the other.

It is of the utmost importance to you, more particularly, to take every
precaution before you decide for life, because disappointment and restraint
afterwards would be insupportable to your temper.

You have often declared to me, my dear friend, that your love of poetry,
and of all the refinements of literary and romantic pursuits, is so
intimately "interwoven in your mind, that nothing could separate them,
without destroying the whole fabric."

Your tastes, you say, are fixed; if they are so, you must be doubly careful
to ensure their gratification. If you cannot make _them_ subservient to
external circumstances, you should certainly, if it be in your power,
choose a situation in which circumstances will be subservient to them. If
you are convinced that you could not adopt the tastes of another, it will
be absolutely necessary for your happiness to live with one whose tastes
are similar to your own.

The belief in that sympathy of souls, which the poets suppose declares
itself between two people at first sight, is perhaps as absurd as the late
fashionable belief in animal magnetism: but there is a sympathy which, if
it be not the foundation, may be called the cement of affection. Two people
could not, I should think, retain any lasting affection for each other,
without a mutual sympathy in taste and in their diurnal occupations and
domestic pleasures. This, you will allow, my dear Julia, even in a fuller

 
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