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Sue Perdue at Mar 24, 2018 01:39 PM

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1
Chapter-First
It was one of those delicious days in spring which
make us feel existence to be a blessing. The warmth--the mildness-
the stillness of the air, softens--soothes & saddens the soul. The same
atmosphere which expands the blossom, expands the hart; the same
instinct which plumes the pinions of the bird & leads it to longer
& higher flights, develops thought, & carries it into futurity &
elevates it to the source of Being. The renovation of nature after
the topor of winter, is an assurance of immortality after the slumber
of the grave.--On such a day as this, there is so sweet an accordance
& harmony between our eternal sensations & internal sentiments that
our whole being is attuned to melody. Yes--to live, is to enjoy--
and at such moments we neither live, or enjoy alone.

The general influence which pervades one [?], pervades our
bosom, & while we feel,--we participate in the benevolence
of the one for the love which lifts us to him, unites us to our
fellow men. On such a day as this the heart is more than full,
& this superabundance of life we feel [deletion] overflows the boundaries
of the present moment & carrying our affections back to the years
that one past & to those that are to come, or seeks the surcharged
soul with a vague & delerious revery.

Leaning against an open casement, long had Julia
Clifton sat, lost, absorbed, in the depth of her own thoughts,
in the fullness of her own sensations. She inhaled the soft air,
she listened to the sweet sounds & gazed on the beauties of rising
nature, & she felt the influence of the awakened spirit
of vitality that breathed around her.

Julia was one of those, who endowed by nature with
those quick perceptions of the beautiful & sublime, desired in
the various forms & shows of nature, its charms, not observed
by common minds; & to this quickness of perceptions, was added a kind
of sensibility which made her susceptible, of a pleasure
nay, even of a rapture, of which few are able to conceive.

to her--& to enthusiasts like her, creation
reveals secrets, hidden from
vulgar souls--it has a language which they cannot

3

1
Chapter-First
It was one of those delicious days in spring which
make us feel existence to be a blessing. The warmth--the mildness-
the stillness of the air, softens--soothes & saddens the soul. The same
atmosphere which expands the blossom, expands the hart; the same
instinct which plumes the pinions of the bird & leads it to longer
& higher flights, develops thought, & carries it into futurity &
elevates it to the source of Being. The renovation of nature after
the topor of winter, is an assurance of immortality after the slumber
of the grave.--On such a day as this, there is so sweet an accordance
& harmony between our eternal sensations & internal sentiments that
our whole being is attuned to melody. Yes--to live, is to enjoy--
and at such moments we neither live, or enjoy alone.

The general influence which pervades one [?], pervades our
bosom, & while we feel,--we participate in the benevolence
of the one for the love which lifts us to him, unites us to our
fellow men. On such a day as this the heart is more than full,
& this superabundance of life we feel [deletion] overflows the boundaries
of the present moment & carrying our affections back to the years
that one past & to those that are to come, or seeks the surcharged
soul with a vague & delerious revery.

Leaning against an open casement, long had Julia
Clifton sat, lost, absorbed, in the depth of her own thoughts,
in the fullness of her own sensations. She inhaled the soft air,
she listened to the sweet sounds & gazed on the beauties of rising
nature, & she felt the influence of the awakened spirit
of vitality that breathed around her.

Julia was one of those, who endowed by nature with
those quick perceptions of the beautiful & sublime, desired in
the various forms & shows of nature, its charms, not observed
by common minds; & to this quickness of perceptions, was added a kind
of sensibility which made her susceptible, of a pleasure
nay, eve nof a rapture, of which few are able to conceive.

to her--& to enthusiasts like her, creation
reveals secrets, hidden from
vulgar souls--it has a language which they cannot