She sends forth her
sympathies on adventure, she embarks her whole soul in the traffic of
affection; and, if shipwrecked, her case is hopeless, for it is a
bankruptcy of the heart." "O, if the loving, closed heart of a good
woman," cries Jean Paul Richter, "Should open before man, how much
controlled tenderness, how many veiled sacrifices and dumb virtues,
would he see reposing therein!" "Honor to women!" sings his
brother-countryman,
SCHILLER;
"they twine and weave the roses of heaven into the life of men; it is
they that unite us in the fascinating bonds of love; and, concealed in
the modest veil of the graces, they cherish carefully the external fire
of delicate feeling with holy hands." "Win her and wear her, if you
can," says Shelley; "she is the most delightful of God's
creatures--Heaven's best gift--man's joy and pride in prosperity--man's
support and comforter in affliction." "Her passions are made of the
finest parts of pure love," says Shakspeare. "Her commands are caresses,
her menaces are tears," says Rousseau. "She was
LAST AT THE CROSS, EARLIEST AT THE GRAVE,"
says Barrett.
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