stant to the near?

To Deronda this event of finding Mirah was as heart-stirring as
anything that befell Orestes or Rinaldo. He sat up half the night,
living again through the moments since he had first discerned Mirah on
the river-brink, with the fresh and fresh vividness which belongs to
emotive memory. When he took up a book to try and dull this urgency of
inward vision, the printed words were no more than a network through
which he saw and heard everything as clearly as before--saw not only
the actual events of two hours, but possibilities of what had been and
what might be which those events were enough to feed with the warm
blood of passionate hope and fear. Something in his own experience
caused Mirah's search after her mother to lay hold with peculiar force
on his imagination. The first prompting of sympathy was to aid her in
her search: if given persons were extant in London there were ways of
finding them, as subtle as scientific experiment, the right machinery
being set at work. But here the mixed feelings which belonged to
Deronda's kindred experience naturally transfused themselves into his
anxiety on behalf of Mirah.

The desire to know his own mother, or to know about her, was constantly
haunted with dread; and in imagining what might befall Mirah it quickly
occurred to him that finding the mother and brother from whom she had
been parted when she was a little one might turn out to be a calamity.
When she was in the boat she said that her mother and brother were
good; but the goodness might have been chiefly in her own ignorant
innocence and yearning memory, and the ten or twelve years since the
parting had been time enough for much worsening. Spite of his strong
tendency to side with the objects of prejudice, and in general with
those who got the worst of it, his interest had never been practically
drawn toward existing Jews, and the facts he knew about them, whether
they walked conspicuous in fine apparel or lurked in by-streets, were
chiefly of a sort most repugnant to him. Of learned and accomplished
Jews he took it for granted that they had dropped their religion, and
wished to be merged in the people of their native lands. Scorn flung at
a Jew as such would have roused all his sympathy in griefs of
inheritance; but the indiscriminate scorn of a race will often strike a
specimen who has well earned it on his own account, and might fairly be
gibbeted as a rascally son of Adam. It appears that the Car