In other
nations it has been the same down to our day. To the Woman who could
conquer a triumph was awarded. And not only those whose strength was
recommended to the heart by association with goodness and beauty, but
those who were bad, if they were steadfast and strong, had their
claims allowed. In any age a Semiramis, an Elizabeth of England, a
Catharine of Russia, makes her place good, whether in a large or small
circle. How has a little wit, a little genius, been celebrated in a
Woman! What an intellectual triumph was that of the lonely Aspasia,
and how heartily acknowledged! She, indeed, met a Pericles. But what
annalist, the rudest of men, the most plebeian of husbands, will spare
from his page one of the few anecdotes of Roman women--Sappho!
Eloisa! The names are of threadbare celebrity. Indeed, they were not
more suitably met in their own time than the Countess Colonel Plater
on her first joining the army. They had much to mourn, and their great
impulses did not find due scope. But with time enough, space enough,
their kindred appear on the scene. Across the ages, forms lean, trying
to touch the hem of their retreating robes. The youth here by my side
cannot be weary of the fragments from the life of Sappho.
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