Page:Love and its hidden history.djvu/119

 sufficient to herself, and play her part in the great drama of existence with credit, if not with comfort. The yearnings of her solitary spirit, the outgushings of her shrinking sensibility, the cravings of her alienated heart, are indulged only in the quiet holiness of her solitude. The world sees not, guesses not the conflict; and in the ignorance of others lies her strength. The secret of her weakness is hidden in the depths of her own bosom; and she moves on, amid the heat and the hurry of existence, and with a seal set upon her nature, to be broken only by fond and loving hands, or dissolved in the tears of recovered home affection.

Heaven knows how many simple letters from simple-minded women have been kissed, cherished, and wept over by men of lofty intellect. So it will always be to the end of time. It is a lesson worth learning, by those young creatures, who seek to allure by their accomplishments, or dazzle by their genius, that though he may admire, no man ever loves a woman for these things. He loves her for what is essentially distinct from, though incompatible with them, — her woman's nature and her woman's heart. This is why we so often see a man of high genius or intellectual power pass by the De Staels and Corinnes, to take into his bosom some wayside flower, who has nothing on earth to make her worthy of him, except that she is — what so few "female celebrities" are — a true woman.

The sweetest, the most clinging affection is often shaken by the slightest breath of unkindness, as the delicate rings and tendrils of the vine are agitated by the faintest air that blows in summer. An unkind word from one beloved often draws blood from many a heart, which would defy the battle-axe of hatred or the keenest edge of vindictive satire. Nay, the shade, the gloom of the face familiar and dear, awakens grief and pain.. These are the little thorns which, though men of rough form make their way through them without feeling much, extremely incommode persons of a more refined turn, in their journey through life, and make their travelling irksome and unpleasant.

The clearness and purity of one's mind is never better proved than in discovering its own faults at first view, as when a stream shows the dirt at the bottom, it shows also the transparency of the water; yet I believe all souls are intrinsically good!