 cold they are to each other!«
    His theory and his wishes about devoting his future to teaching had made an
impression on Mrs. Yeobright. Indeed, how could it be otherwise when he was a
part of her - when their discourses were as if carried on between the right and
the left hands of the same body? He had despaired of reaching her by argument;
and it was almost as a discovery to him that he could reach her by a magnetism
which was as superior to words as words are to yells.
    Strangely enough he began to feel now that it would not be so hard to
persuade her who was his best friend that comparative poverty was essentially
the higher course for him, as to reconcile to his feelings the act of persuading
her. From every provident point of view his mother was so undoubtedly right,
that he was not without a sickness of heart in finding he could shake her.
    She had a singular insight into life, considering that she had never mixed
with it. There are instances of persons who, without clear ideas of the things
they criticize, have yet had clear ideas of the relations of those things.
Blacklock, a poet blind from his birth, could describe visual objects with
accuracy; Professor Sanderson, who was also blind, gave excellent lectures on
colour, and taught others the theory of ideas which they had and he had not. In
the social sphere these gifted ones are mostly women; they can watch a world
which they never saw, and estimate forces of which they have only heard. We call
it intuition.
    What was the great world to Mrs. Yeobright? A multitude whose tendencies
could be perceived, though not its essences. Communities were seen by her as
from a distance; she saw them as we see the throngs which cover the canvases of
Sallaert, Van Alsloot, and others of that school - vast masses of beings,
jostling, zigzagging, and processioning in definite directions, but whose
features are indistinguishable by the very comprehensiveness of the view.
    One could see that, as far as it had gone, her life was very complete on its
reflective side. The philosophy of her nature, and its limitation by
circumstances, was almost written in her movements. They had a majestic
foundation, though they were far from being majestic; and they had a groundwork
of assurance, but they were not assured. As her once elastic walk had become
deadened by time, so had her natural pride of life been hindered in its blooming
by her necessities.
    The next slight touch in the shaping of Clym's destiny occurred a few days
after.
