Lord Ormont and His Aminta — Volume 1Meredith, George
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Lord Ormont and His Aminta — Volume 1
Meredith, George
English fiction -- 19th century
He boasted it to a sister sharing the pride exultant in the cry of the
hawk, scornful of ambitions poultry, a passed finger-post to the plucked,
and really regretful that no woman had been created fit for him. When
she was not aiding with her brother, women, however contemptible for
their weakness, appeared to her as better than barn-door fowl, or vermin
in their multitudes gnawing to get at the cheese-trap. She could be
humane, even sisterly, with women whose conduct or prattle did not
outrage plain sense, just as the stickler for the privileges of her class
was large-heartedly charitable to the classes flowing in oily orderliness
round about below it--if they did so flow. Unable to read woman's
character, except upon the broadest lines as it were the spider's main
threads of its web, she read men minutely, from the fact that they were
neither mysteries nor terrors to her; but creatures of importunate
appetites, humorous objects; very manageable, if we leave the road to
their muscles, dress their wounds, smoothe their creases, plume their
vanity; and she had an unerring eye for the man to be used when a blow
was needed, methods for setting him in action likewise. She knew how
much stronger than ordinary men the woman who can put them in motion.
They can be set to serve as pieces of cannon, under compliments on their
superior powers, which were not all undervalued by her on their own
merits, for she worshipped strength. But the said, with a certain amount
of truth, that the women unaware of the advantage Society gave them (as
to mastering men) were fools.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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