o a world
which is as unknown to her as heaven is to us, and in regard to which
her longings are apt to be infinitely stronger than are ours for
heaven. Her education has been much better than that of the man. She
can read, whereas he can only spell words from a book. She can write a
letter after her fashion, whereas he can barely spell words out on a
paper. Her tongue is more glib, and her intellect sharper. But her
ignorance as to the reality of things is much more gross than his. By
such contact as he has with men in markets, in the streets of the
towns he frequents, and even in the fields, he learns something
unconsciously of the relative condition of his countrymen,--and, as to
that which he does not learn, his imagination is obtuse. But the woman
builds castles in the air, and wonders, and longs. To the young farmer
the squire's daughter is a superior being very much out of his way. To
the farmer's daughter the young squire is an Apollo, whom to look at
is a pleasure,--by whom to be looked at is a delight. The danger for the
most part is soon over. The girl marries after her kind, and then
husband and children put the matter at rest for ever.

A mind more absolutely uninstructed than that of Ruby Ruggles as to
the world beyond Suffolk and Norfolk it would be impossible to find.
But her thoughts were as wide as they were vague, and as active as
they were erroneous. Why should she with all her prettiness, and all
her cleverness,--with all her fortune to boot,--marry that dustiest of all
men, John Crumb, before she had seen something of the beauties of the
things of which she had read in the books which came in her way? John
Crumb was not bad-looking. He was a sturdy, honest fellow, too,--slow of
speech but sure of his points when he had got them within his grip,--
fond of his beer but not often drunk, and the very soul of industry at
his work. But though she had known him all her life she had never
known him otherwise than dusty. The meal had so gotten within his
hair, and skin, and raiment, that it never came out altogether even on
Sundays. His normal complexion was a healthy pallor, through which
indeed some records of hidden ruddiness would make themselves visible,
but which was so judiciously assimilated to his hat and coat and
waistcoat, that he was more like a stout ghost than a healthy young
man. Nevertheless it was said of him that he could thrash any man in
Bungay, and carry two hundredweight of flour upon