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FRANCESCA CARRARA.
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walls, with no wider circle of usefulness than our own tenantry, and our hopes bounded by our daily horizon."

His path now led into the deeper recesses of the wood—silent and solitary depths of shade, known but by few. His passing parted the near branches, and startled the deer from their slumber amid the wild flowers. He could see the timid creatures darting away, the moonlight glittering on their horns, till they vanished amid the darker shade which rested on the far-off and hidden dells.

His course now lay along a little brook, which rippled on its way, singing like a child out of the gladness of its own heart; and he listened, for his ear was caught by the sweet low music which the pebbles made amid those tiny waves. Suddenly there came the faint echo of some unusual sound,—it grew more distinct as he drew nearer, and at last he could distinguish the union of many voices chanting a grave and solemn air, whose melody came strange and sweet on the midnight wind. He could soon hear the words—they were those of the twenty-third Psalm; and the beautiful expression of entire confidence in the Almighty eye that was to watch over their safety, and in the Almighty hand that was to guide, came like a