wn dungeon's twilight, and flinch before
the full glare of day? If neither of these is the case, they must
sometimes sympathize with that dreary dilemma of Bias which the adust
Aldrich quotes in grim irony--[Greek: _Ei men kalen, exeis koinen, ei d'
aischran, poinen_] (Whether of the two horns impaled the sage of
Priene?) Some, of course, are fully alive to the outward defects of
their partners; but few are so candid as the old Berkshire squire, who,
looking after his spouse as she left the room, said, pensively,
"Excellent creature, that! I've liked her better every day for twenty
years, but I've always thought she's the plainest-headed woman in
England!" Fewer still would wish to emulate the sturdy plain-speaking of
the "gudeman" in the Scottish ballad, who, when his witch-wife boasted
how she bloomed into beauty after drinking the "wild-flower wine,"
replied, undauntedly,

"Ye lee, ye lee, ye ill womyn,
Sae loud I hear ye lee;
The ill-faured'st wife i' the kingdom of Fife
Is comely compared wi' thee."

He could stand all the other marvels of the Sabbat, but _that_ was too
much for his credulity.

No doubt many of these Ugly Princesses are endowed with excellent
sterling qualities. The old Border legend says there never was a happier
match than that of "Muckle-mou'ed Meg," though her husband married her
reluctantly with a halter tightening round his neck. But such advantages
lie below the surface, and take some time in being appreciated. The
first process of captivation is what I don't understand--unless, indeed,
there are sparkles in the quartz, invisible to common eyes, that tell
the experienced gold-seeker of a rich vein near.

Well, we will allow the proposition with which we started; but do you
suppose its converse would hold equally good--that every woman could
_love_ once if she wished it? Nine out of ten of them would, I dare say,
answer boldly in the affirmative; but in a few rather sad and weary
faces you might read something more than a doubt about this; and lips,
not so red and full as they once were, on which the wintry smile comes
but rarely, could tell perhaps a different story. The precise mould that
will fit _some_ fancies is as hard to find as the slipper of Cendrillon;
and so, in default of the fairy _chaussure_, the small white foot goes
on its road unshod, and the stones and briers gall it cruelly.

With men it does not so much matter. They have always the counteracting
resources