Women are as conscious of this feeling as are men. There are times when women meet their counterpart. The nature they long for and seek after with unutterable longing, is before them. Finding it, they recognize their lord, under whose protection they take shelter, and to whose rule they submit, because of love which masters and controls them. The heart cries out for a person--not for things. Spirit desires spirit; soul yearns for soul. It is the genius of woman to be electrical in movement, intuitive in penetration, and spiritual in tendency. She excels not so easily in classification or recreation as in an instinctive seizure of causes, and a simple breathing out of what she receives, that has the singleness of life, rather than the selecting and energizing of art. More native is it to her to be the living model of the artist, than to set apart from herself any one form in objective reality. More native to inspire and receive the poem than to create it. In so far as soul is in her completely developed, all soul is the same; but in so far as it is modified in her as woman, it flows, it breathes, it sings, rather than deposits soil, or furnishes work; and that which is especially feminine, flushes in blossom the face of the earth, and pervades, like air and water, all this seeming solid globe, daily renewing and purifying its life. Such is the especial feminine element which man desires as a helper, and which is suited to him, and which compels him to exclaim, "O, my God, give it to me _for mine_!" It is said, "A woman will sometimes idealize a very inferior man, until her love for him exalts him into something better than he originally was, and her into little short of an angel; but a man almost invariably drops to the level of the woman he is in love with. He cannot raise her; but she can almost unlimitedly deteriorate him." This was true of Adam. Eve, sinning, brought him to her level. Why this should be, Heaven knows; but so it constantly is. We have but to look around us, with ordinary observation, in order to see that a man's destiny, more than even a woman's, depends far less upon the good or ill fortune of his wooing than upon the sort of woman with whom he falls in love. Before a man loves, he is under obligations to himself, to his future, and to the world, to ask himself, Is this woman suited to me? Will she help me to fulfil my mission? Does she supply my want? Can I recognize her as God's gift to me? If Yes, then he is right in loving; for "He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, And win or lose it all."