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intellect and exceptional character so often mate themselves with weak or narrow-minded women?
That a diffident man, with a taste for playing on the flute, should be captured by a virago, is not so remarkable,--that is his natural weakness; but it is also true that the worthiest man often chooses indifferently.
This thing they call matrimony is in fact like diving for pearls: you bring up the oyster, but what it contains does not appear until afterward.
A friend of Sumner, who imagined his wife had a beautiful nature because she was fond of wild-flowers, discovered too late that she cared more for botany than for her husband.
Chevalier Howe met with better fortune.
He waited long and to good purpose.
It was fitting that such a man should marry a poetess; and he found her, not in her rose-garden or some romantic sylvan retreat, but in the city of New York. Miss Julia Ward was the daughter, as she once styled herself, of the Bank of Commerce, but her mind was not bent on money or a fashionable life.
She was graceful, witty and charming in the drawing-room; but there was also a serious vein in her nature which could only be satisfied by earnest thought and study.
She went from one book to another through the whole range of critical scholarship, disdaining everything that was not of the best quality.
She soon knew so much that the young men became
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