Morning Rick,
Thanks for the story and while sitting on the porch and having my morning sustenance and gazing out to the fog on the river, the following by Irving came to me.
I have often had occasion to remark the fortitude with which
women sustain the most overwhelming reverses of fortune. Those disasters which break down the spirit of man, and prostrate him in the dust, seem to call forth all the energies of the softer sex, and give such intrepidity and elevation to their character, that at times it approaches to sublimity. Nothing can be more touching, than to behold a soft tender female, who had been all weakness and independence, and alive to every trivial roughness, while treading the prosperous paths of life, suddenly rising in mental force to be the comforter and supporter of her husband under misfortune, and abiding, with unshrinking firmness, the bitter blast of adversity.
As the vine, which as long twined its graceful foliage about the oak, and been lifted by it unto sunshine, will, when the hardy plant is rifted by the thunderbolt, cling round it with its caressing tendrils, and bind up its shattered boughs; so is it beautifully ordered by Providence, that woman, who is the mere dependent and ornament of man in his happier hours, should be his stay and solace when smitten with sudden calamity; winding herself into the rugged recesses of his nature, tenderly supporting the drooping head, and binding up the broken heart.
The Prize is yours Sir,
Voltaire |
