she would hardly be sorry for
less prosperous, less sensible people: the modern feeling of, "the pity of
it, Iago, the pity of it!" has never gone home to her; she is not like
Ruskin's "gentleman" who has tears always in his eyes, in spite of the
smile on his lips; she is not "quick to perceive the want" in the many
lives, which are empty or crippled, though, perhaps, seemingly prosperous:
things turn out well with her, and she deserves it, so the sight of her
would bring home a sense of undeservingness to the less fortunate; she
cannot speak so as to be "understanded of" them; she is not one of those
who have learnt that "_avoir beaucoup souffert c'est comme ceux qui savent
beaucoup de langues, avoir appris a tout comprendre, et a se fairs
comprendre de tous_." But the virtues Solomon describes need not result in
this type, which is antagonistic to us; extremes meet, and it is the
exaggeration of a very lovable type--the woman who gives you the feeling
of rest and protection and strong motherliness, who is as the shadow of a
great rock in a weary land. "The meekness and gentleness of Christ" is
translated by Matthew Arnold as the "sweet reasonableness," and this
makes a very lovable woman. Sweet unreasonableness makes a more _taking_
one, but not a _keeping_ one. Butterfly women have more fascinating ways,
but Spring-time comes to an end--the day will come for all women when
others will come to them to be ministered to, to be rested and soothed and
raised. It is sad to watch many who have the faded pretty ways which once
was all that was required of them, and who, in middle life, cannot
understand why their belongings find them so inadequate! Long ago, Swift
warned girls against making nets instead of cages, but they have not all
learnt wisdom yet. And the main point is, not how you can get, or give,
most amusement, but how you can give most comfort; and no one goes to a
weak person for that. There are few things certain in life, but one of
these few is, that others will come to each one of us, in doubt, in
sorrow, in pain, in ignorance, and that, through negligence and ignorance
of ours, they may go away uncomforted, unhelped, untaught, and this,
though each one of us has it in her power to become, through God's grace,
one of those Queens of Consolation of whom Dante spoke.

I think the Virtuous Woman ought to be on her guard against hardness: it
is her temptation, naturally, as it was that of the Elder Brother,--but
l