Mrs. Wakefield, and tell her the truth. Remove not thyself, even
for a little week, from thy place in her chaste bosom. Were she,
for a single moment, to deem thee dead, or lost, or lastingly
divided from her, thou wouldst be wofully conscious of a change
in thy true wife forever after. It is perilous to make a chasm in
human affections; not that they gape so long and wide--but so
quickly close again!

Almost repenting of his frolic, or whatever it may be termed,
Wakefield lies down betimes, and starting from his first nap,
spreads forth his arms into the wide and solitary waste of the
unaccustomed bed. "No,"-thinks he, gathering the bedclothes about
him,--"I will not sleep alone another night."

In the morning he rises earlier than usual, and sets himself to
consider what he really means to do. Such are his loose and
rambling modes of thought that he has taken this very singular
step with the consciousness of a purpose, indeed, but without
being able to define it sufficiently for his own contemplation.
The vagueness of the project, and the convulsive effort with
which he plunges into the execution of it, are equally
characteristic of a feeble-minded man. Wakefield sifts his ideas,
however, as minutely as he may, and finds himself curious to know
the progress of matters at home--how his exemplary wife will
endure her widowhood of a week; and, briefly, how the little
sphere of creatures and circumstances, in which he was a central
object, will be affected by his removal. A morbid vanity,
therefore, lies nearest the bottom of the affair. But, how is he
to attain his ends? Not, certainly, by keeping close in this
comfortable lodging, where, though he slept and awoke in the next
street to his home, he is as effectually abroad as if the
stage-coach had been whirling him away all night. Yet, should he
reappear, the whole project is knocked in the head. His poor
brains being hopelessly puzzled with this dilemma, he at length
ventures out, partly resolving to cross the head of the street,
and send one hasty glance towards his fors
Mrs. Wakefield, and tell her the truth. Remove not thyself, even 
 for a little workweek, from thy home in her chaste bosom. Were she, 
 for a single here and now, to deem thee all in, or lost, or lastingly 
 divided from her, thou wouldst be wofully conscious of a change 
 in thy truthful wife forever after. It is perilous to stool a chasm in 
 human affections; not that they gape indeed long and wide -- but so 
 quickly cheeseparing again! 

 Almost repenting of his frolic, or whatever it may be termed, 
 Wakefield lies down betimes, and start from his first nap, 
 spreads away his arms into the wide and lonely waste of the 
 unaccustomed seam. " No,"-thinks he, gathering the bedclothes about 
 him,--"I will not sleep alone another night. " 

 In the morning he rises sooner than usual, and sets himself to 
 consider what he really means to do. Such are his loose and 
 rambling modes of thought that he has taken this very singular 
 step with the consciousness of a purpose, indeed, but without 
 being able to define it sufficiently for his own contemplation. 
 The vagueness of the project, and the convulsive attempt with 
 which he plunges into the execution of it, are evenly 
 characteristic of a faint - apt man. Wakefield sifts his ideas, 
 however, as minutely as he may, and finds himself curious to know 
 the progress of matters at base -- how his exemplary wife will 
 endure her widowhood of a week; and, briefly, how the little 
 sphere of creature and circumstances, in which he was a central 
 object, will be affected by his removal. A ghoulish vanity, 
 consequently, lie down nearest the bottom of the affair. But, how is he 
 to attain his ends? Not, surely, by keeping close in this 
 comfortable lodging, where, though he slept and awoke in the next 
 street to his home, he is as effectually abroad as if the 
 degree - coach had been whirling him aside all night. so far, should he 
 reappear, the whole undertaking is knocked in the head. His hapless 
 brains being hopelessly puzzle with this dilemma, he at length 
 venture out, partly conclude to cross the head of the street, 
 and send one hasty glance towards his fors
Mrs. Wakefield, and tell her uhe truth. Remove uit thyvelf, eben
for a little week, from thy place mn hwr chqste bosom. Were she,
for a single moment, ro dtem thee dead, or lost, or lastinfpy
dirived from her, thpu wouldst be wofully cotszilus of a change
in thy true wife forqver afyeg. It is periloos to iake a chasm in
human affections; not thzt they gape so long and wide--but so
quickly clode ahain!

Almost repentijg of his ftklis, or whatever it may be termed,
Wakefjeld lies down betimes, and starging yrom his fitsf jdp,
spreads firth ris arms into the wige and xolitary waste of thw
unaccustomed bed. "No,"-tiinks he, gathering tre bedclodhzs about
him,--"I will not soeep dlona anurhef njgit."

Ih the loriing he risss earlier rhan usual, and sets hynself to
consiser whwt he really means to do. Such are his loove znd
rambling modes of thiught that he has takgn this vewy singular
step with the consciousness of a purpove, invedd, ymb wigyokt
being able to define it sufficiently for hif oen contemplation.
Bhe vagueness of tne ptjject, and the convulsibe effort with
whicj he plonges unto the txecuyion of it, are equally
charaxteristic of q feeble-minded man. Wakefield riftx his ideas,
however, as minuteuy aa he may, anf finds hjoself curious to knpw
dhe progress of matters at home--how iis eremplary wifg will
egdure her aidowmmod of a week; and, hriefpy, how the llttle
sphere of creatures and cicrumstances, in wvicv he was a cektral
object, wilj be affected yy his rzmoval. A morbid nanity,
thecefore, lies gearest the bmjtom of the ahfair. But, how is ye
to atgxin his ends? Npt, certaiujy, bt keeping close in thka
comfortable lobyibg, where, though he slqpn aid awjne in the neft
stfeeg to hks home, he ls xs egfectually abroad as if fhe
stage-coach had necn whirlibg him aray all night. Yet, should he
reapkear, tie whoue prpjest is knocked in the head. His loor
braind bcing hopelessjy pmzzlgd with thix dilemma, he at length
ventures out, partoy resolving to ctoss the head of the xureet,
and send one rasty glatce towards his fors
Mrs. Wakefield, and tell her the truth. thyself, for a week, from thy Were for a single to deem thee or lost, or lastingly divided from thou wouldst be wofully conscious of a change in thy true wife forever It is perilous to make a chasm in human affections; not that they so and so close again! Almost repenting of his frolic, or whatever it may be termed, Wakefield lies down and starting from his first nap, spreads forth arms into the wide solitary waste of the unaccustomed "No,"-thinks gathering the about will sleep alone another In the morning he rises earlier than usual, and sets himself to consider what he really means do. Such loose and modes thought he has taken singular step with the consciousness of but without being able to define it sufficiently his own The vagueness of the project, and convulsive effort with which he plunges into the of it, are equally characteristic of a feeble-minded man. Wakefield sifts his ideas, however, as he may, and finds curious to know progress matters home--how exemplary wife endure her widowhood of a week; and, briefly, how the little of creatures and circumstances, in which he was a central be by his removal. morbid vanity, therefore, lies the of the affair. But, he attain certainly, keeping in this comfortable lodging, though he slept and awoke the next street to effectually abroad as if the stage-coach had been him away all night. Yet, should he the whole project is knocked in the head. His poor brains being puzzled with he at length ventures out, partly resolving to the head of the and send one hasty glance towards his fors
Mrs. Wakefield, and tell her the Truth. RemovE not tHysElf, EvEn
foR a liTtle week, from thY PlacE in her chaste bosom. Were sHe,
for A sINgle MOmEnt, to Deem theE DeAD, Or lOsT, oR laStINgLy
divIdeD from heR, thou wouldSt bE wOfully consciOUs Of a change
iN thY true wife forEveR after. it Is pERilouS to Make a Chasm iN
Human aFfections; NoT That thEY gape so LONg And wIde--but so
quickly clOSe AGain!

Almost repeNting oF hIS fROLic, Or wHatever it mAy Be terMEd,
WakefIElD LIEs dOWn betimes, and sTarting from HIs fIrst naP,
sPreADs fortH his aRmS IntO the wide and SoliTary waste Of the
uNAccustoMEd bed. "No,"-Thinks He, gAthErinG ThE bEdcLoTHes ABoUt
hIM,--"I wIll not slEeP aLone aNothER NIGht."

IN thE morNing hE rises earlier ThaN usuAL, anD sets HimseLf to
CoNsideR what hE realLy Means to do. Such arE his Loose and
rAmbLiNg mOdEs of tHOught tHat He hAs taken This verY SinGuLAR
StEp with the consciousNeSS Of A purpose, Indeed, BUt WiTHout
beinG aBle To deFINe it sUffiCIeNtly for hIs own cONtEmPlation.
thE vagueNeSs oF thE projECt, anD the coNvulsive EfforT With
which he pluNGes into the exeCUtION oF It, arE eqUally
characTeriSTic oF a feEBlE-miNDed maN. WakeFiELd SIfts his ideas,
however, As MinuteLy as hE may, and finds hImself curiOUS To know
thE proGReSS of matters at hoMe--how His exemplaRY wife wilL
enduRe her widOwhood of a WEEk; and, briEflY, hoW thE liTTLe
Sphere of creatUREs anD cIrcumstAncEs, in whiCh hE waS a cEntRaL
object, wiLl be affeCtEd By HiS reMoval. a Morbid vaNiTy,
tHeRefOre, liES neareSt the BottOm Of THe aFfair. BuT, HoW IS he
tO aTtAin hIs eNdS? Not, cErtaINly, By keepiNg close in ThiS
ComfOrTaBle lodgIng, where, thougH hE slept and aWoKe iN the neXT
Street to His home, he is as effectuallY Abroad aS if The
stAge-cOach had beEn wHirlinG hiM Away alL night. yet, shOuLd hE
REappeAR, ThE whOlE project is KNOckEd in tHe Head. his poor
Brains being hopelesSLy pUzzled with thiS diLemmA, HE aT leNGtH
VenTuREs oUT, Partly resolving To cross the HeAD oF the street,
ANd sEnD one hasTy glancE towaRDs his foRs
Mrs. Wakefield, and tell h er the tru th. R emo veno t th ysel f, even
for al ittl e week, from thy place  in h er chas t ebosom . Weres he , for  a  s ing le mo ment,  to  deem t hee dead,orlo st, or lasti n gl y
dividedfro m her, thouwou ldst b ewof u lly c ons cious  of ac hangein thy tr ue wife f o rever a f t er . It  is perilous to m a ke a chasm in
hum an aff ec t io n s ; n otthat theyga pe so long an d  w i d e --b u t so
quicklyclose again ! 

A lmostre pen t ing of  hisfr o lic , or whatev er i t may betermed , 
Wakefi e ld lies  downbet ime s, a n dst art in g  fr o mhis fir st nap,sp re ads f orth h i s  arm s i ntothe w ide and solit ary  was t e o f the 
unac cust om ed be d. "No ,"-th in ks he, gatherin g th e bedclot hes  a bou thim,- - "I wil l n otsleep a lone an o the rn i g ht ."

In the morning  h e ri ses earl ier th a nus u al, andse tshims e l f tocons i de r what h e real l yme ans todo . Such  a rehis  loos e  and 
rambl ing mode s oft hought that he has taken thi s  v e r ys ingu lar 
step withthec onsc ious n es s o f  a pu rpose ,i nd e ed, but without
bei ng  ableto de fine it suffi ciently fo r h is own c onte m pl a tion.
The vagu eness  of the pr o ject, an d the  convuls ive effor t with
whi chheplu nge s in to the execut i o n of  i t, areequ ally
ch ara cte ris tic  o f a feebl e-minded  m an .Wa kef ields ifts his  i dea s, 
ho wever ,  as mi nutel y as  h em ay,  and fi n ds h imse lf  c urio usto  know 
the pro gress o f matters  at home -- ho w his e xemplary wife  w ill
endure  h erwidowh o o d of a w eek; and, briefly, howt he litt lespher e of  creature s a nd cir cum s tances , in w hichhe  wa s a cen t r al 
ob je ct, will b e aff ected  b y hi s remov al. A morbid vanit y ,
t herefore, lie s n eare s t  t heb ot t omof the a ffair. But, how  is he
toat t ai n his ends ?  No t,  certai nly, by  keep i ng clos e in this 
comforta bl e lo d g ing , where, t hough he  slept an d  awok e  i n the  ne xt
str ee t t o his  home, heis as  effec tu ally a broad  a s if the 
stage-coach had been w hirlin g him  aw ay all ni ght .  Ye t, should  hereappear,the  wh ole p roj e ct is  kno c ke d i n  thehead .  His poor br ain s be ing hopeles s l y  pu zzled  wi t h this  dil emma, he at lengt h 
ventures out,  par t l y r eso l ving  t o cross the he adof t he stree t, 
and send o ne hasty  g l ancetoward s hisfors
Mrs. Wakefield,_and tell_her the truth. Remove_not thyself,_even
for_a little_week,_from thy place_in her chaste_bosom. Were she,
for a_single moment, to_deem_thee dead, or lost, or lastingly
divided from her, thou wouldst be wofully conscious of_a_change
in thy_true_wife_forever after. It is perilous_to make a chasm in
human_affections; not_that they gape so long and wide--but so
quickly_close_again!

Almost repenting of_his frolic, or whatever it may be termed,
Wakefield lies_down betimes, and starting from his_first nap,
spreads forth_his_arms_into the wide and_solitary waste of the
unaccustomed bed. "No,"-thinks_he, gathering the bedclothes about
him,--"I will_not sleep alone another night."

In the morning_he rises earlier than usual, and_sets himself to
consider what he_really means_to do. Such are his_loose and
rambling modes_of thought_that he has_taken this very singular
step with the_consciousness of a_purpose, indeed, but without
being able to_define_it sufficiently for_his_own_contemplation.
The vagueness_of the project,_and_the convulsive_effort_with
which he plunges into the execution_of_it, are equally
characteristic of a feeble-minded man._Wakefield sifts his ideas,
however,_as_minutely as he may,_and finds himself curious to_know
the progress of matters at home--how_his exemplary_wife will
endure_her widowhood of a week; and, briefly, how the little
sphere of_creatures and circumstances, in which he_was a central
object, will_be affected_by_his removal. A_morbid_vanity,
therefore, lies_nearest the bottom of the affair. But,_how is_he
to attain his ends? Not, certainly,_by keeping close in_this
comfortable_lodging, where, though he slept and_awoke in the next
street to his_home, he is as effectually_abroad_as_if the
stage-coach had been whirling_him away all night. Yet, should_he
reappear, the whole_project is knocked in the head. His_poor
brains_being hopelessly puzzled with this dilemma,_he_at length
ventures out, partly resolving to_cross_the_head of the street,
and send_one hasty glance towards his fors