Here is the
vice,--for want of a high motive there can be no truly good action.
We have seen a woman, otherwise noble and magnanimous in a high
degree, so insane on this point as to weep bitterly because she found
a little dust on her picture-frames, and torment her guests all
dinner-time with excuses for the way in which the dinner was cooked.
We have known others to join with their servants to backbite the best
and noblest friends for trifling derelictions against the accustomed
order of the house. The broom swept out the memory of much sweet
counsel and loving-kindness, and spots on the table-cloth were more
regarded than those they made on their own loyalty and honor in the
most intimate relations.
"The worst of furies is a woman scorned," and the sex, so lively,
mobile, impassioned, when passion is aroused at all, are in danger of
frightful error, under great temptation. The angel can give place to a
more subtle and treacherous demon, though one, generally, of less
tantalizing influence, than in the breast of man. In great crises,
Woman needs the highest reason to restrain her; but her besetting sin
is that of littleness. Just because nature and society unite to call
on her for such fineness and finish, she can be so petty, so fretful,
so vain, envious and base! O, women, see your danger! See how much you
need a great object in all your little actions.
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