What woman knows not her own road to victory?--_The Talisman._

She had been beautiful, and was stately and majestic in her

appearance. Endowed by nature with strong powers and violent

passions, experience had taught her to employ the one, and to

conceal, if not to moderate, the other. She was a severe and strict

observer of the external forms, at least, of devotion; her

hospitality was splendid, even to ostentation; her address and

manners were grave, dignified, and severely regulated by the rules

of etiquette.... And yet, with all these qualities to excite

respect, she was seldom mentioned in the terms of love or

affection. Interest,--the interest of her family, if not her

own--seemed too obviously the motive of her actions: and when this

is the case, the sharp-judging and malignant public are not easily

imposed upon by outward show.--_The Bride of Lammermoor._

Reasoning--like a woman, to whom external appearance is scarcely in

any circumstance a matter of unimportance, and like a beauty who

has confidence in her own charms.--_Kenilworth._

Her affection and sympathy dictated at once the kindest course.

Without attempting to control the torrent of grief in its full

current, she gently sat her down beside the mourner.... She waited

a more composed moment to offer her little stock of consolation in

deep silence and stillness.--_The Betrothed._

Her kindness and her worth to spy

You need but gaze on Ellen's eye;

Not Katrine in her mirror blue,

Gives back the shaggy banks more true,

Than every free-born glance confess'd

The guileless movements of her breast;

Whether joy danced in her dark eye,

Or woe or pity claim'd a sigh,

Or filial love was glowing there,

Or meek devotion pour'd a prayer.

Or hate of injury call'd forth

The indignant spirit of the North.

One only passion unreveal'd,

With maiden pride, the maid conceal'd,

Yet no less purely felt the flame--

O need I tell that passion's name?

_The Lady of the Lake, Canto 1._

She is fairer in feature than becometh a man of my order to speak

of; and she has withal a breathing of her father's lofty spirit.

The look and the word of such a lady will give a man double

strength in the hour of need.--_The Betrothed._

Her smile, her speech, with winning sway,

Wiled the old harper's mood away.

With such a look as hermits throw

When angels stoop to soothe their woe,

He gazed, till fond regret and pride

Thrill'd to a tear.

_The Lady of the Lake, Canto 2._

All her soul is in her eye,

Yet doubts she still to tender free

The wonted words of courtesy.

* * * * *

Go to her now--be bold of cheer,

While her soul floats 'twixt hope and fear:

It is the very change of tide,

When best the female heart is tried--

Pride, prejudice ...

Are in the current swept to sea.

_Rokeby, Canto 2._

She was highly accomplished; yet she had not learned to substitute

the gloss of politeness for the reality of feeling.--_Waverley._

A deep-thinking and impassioned woman, ready to make exertions

alike, and sacrifices, with all that vain devotion to a favorite

object of affection, which is often so basely rewarded.--_The

Fortunes of Nigel._

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