From Moore’s Rural New-Yorker in Rochester, NY
May 7th, 1864
Two Kinds of Women
Perhaps the secret of Catherine’s fascination lay in those strange eyes of hers, which seemed to wake in all who came near her a trembling and a stir as of wings, a sudden yearning for forgotten good or for noble aims. Few professed to lover her, fewer still to admire her; but they came to her when they were perplexed for counsel, when they were sorrowful for comfort. Instead of making love to her, they loved her; instead of talking to her of the idle things of the world, they were silent, and thought of heaven. Such a woman made a man forget that she was woman and he man. He remembered only that souls answereth out the hidden things of the spirit. Such a woman was not likely to have many lovers. The wicked inspire passion more easily than the good. It is they who are the most hotly loved, the most madly suffered for. It is they who make men easy dupes to their deceit, and victims to the perjury. They accept hearts as they would bonbons; they trouble a man’s peace as idly as they would throw a stone into a pool; they stir up a devil within him, and show him the very depths of anguish. Happy for their victims if they, do not leave desolated homes, seething madness, and death in their track. Thrice happy is he who, escaping from the net of such a one, even through great bitterness and suffering, shall shake himself from the bonds like Samson, and recover his strength. It is useless to rage against such a woman. They never understand what they have done, what they are doing, nor what they will yet live to do. Becky Sharp is the type of them all, and she thought herself clever to the end.
If I Had My Own Blue Box: 
Leave a comment