There have been other women also--noble women, their
names like beacon-lights studding the dark waste of history. So
there have been noble men--saints, martyrs, heroes. The sex-line
divides us physically, not morally. Woman has been man's accomplice
in too many crimes to claim to be his judge. 'Male and female
created He them'--like and like, for good and evil."
By good fortune I found a loose match. I lighted a fresh cigar.
"Dick, I suppose, is the average man," said Robina.
"Most of us are," I said, "when we are at home. Carlyle was the
average man in the little front parlour in Cheyne Row, though, to
hear fools talk, you might think no married couple outside literary
circles had ever been known to exchange a cross look. So was Oliver
Cromwell in his own palace with the door shut. Mrs. Cromwell must
have thought him monstrous silly, placing sticky sweetmeats for his
guests to sit on--told him so, most likely. A cheery, kindly man,
notwithstanding, though given to moods. He and Mrs. Cromwell seem to
have rubbed along, on the whole, pretty well together. Old Sam
Johnson--great, God-fearing, lovable, cantankerous old brute! Life
with him, in a small house on a limited income, must have had its ups
and downs. Milton and Frederick the Great were, one hopes, a little
below the average. Did their best, no doubt; lacked understanding.
Not so easy as it looks, living up to the standard of the average
man.
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