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womans work-
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Sitting down to write something to
thousands of persons throughout this broad
land of ours, without an idea as to what
will be written, or written about, presents
rather an unpleasant prospect for the
thousands of readers, doesn’t it? And
you are one of them; just think of that—
though I dislike to ask your attention to
any but cheerful subjects.
But don’t worry about it; you are only
one of a large company, and you can get
through if the others can. It will soon
be over, and then we will scarcely know
the difference. My lagging thoughts may
revive somewhat; your injured innocence
will likely survive the disappointment,
and we will all have an opportunity for
another trial in the near future. One cir
cumstance is decidedly in your favor;
you are all unmindful of this scarcity of
material, and will know nothing thereof
until the facts are repeated to you in type.
By that time, perhaps, I will have become
reconciled to the situation, and we will all
have but little at which to complain.
I beg you to be very careful how you
censure or criticise me, or anyone. It is
such an easy thing to do, and then it can
not be undone. Did you ever think of the
fact that we generally find what we are
looking for in our fellow beings ? If we
love them and endeavor to see something
admirable in them, how quickly do we
observe a noble trait shining forth I
And then another glitters beside it,
and another above it, and they
become so numerous that our vision is
confused in counting them—just as the
twinkling stars of night bewilder us by
their countlessness.
It is such a happy privilege to find so
rare a subject for our gaze? My dear
woman—or man, if some may be honoring
my page with their attention—there are
thousands of such subjects, and many of
them are near to you, their presence all
unknown. The gems of character are
there, and they are undiscovered only be
cause you have thrown no proper rays of
light thereon. In the one case your heart
has placed a reflector just back of your
vision, which is warranted to expose lova
ble qualities, and this reflector may be
designated as Love. Ah, how strong is
its power 1 Brilliant and penetrating as
the sunlight of heaven, it casts a glory
about every subject. If there be faults,
they are so small as to be hidden in the
shadows of the magnificent endowments
which stand but before them. “ Love is
blind,” beqs'i’se the reflector used by Love
does not develop the darker shades of the
picture. *
But you do not always use this glorious
process of photography. It is only for rare
occasions, on which you have determined
to employ the most approved process.
The vast majority of the persons whom
you are photographing on the dial of your
mind, you have already decided to be un
interesting, and unworthy of favorable
treatment. Their sittings are only on dark
and rainy days, as it were, and you take no
care to arrange the light. Even if it
should prove an excellent picture, the re
flector of Indifference or Jealousy or
Hate would soon cast disparaging rays
upon it, and Criticism would promptly
point out so nanny defects as to ruin the
whole.
I have said that you do these things. I
hope this is a mistake. Most persons fol
low this course in estimating the merits of
those about them, but I hope you are an
exception. I beg you to be, for it is so
much better for you individually, and for
all the world, that you cultivate charita
ble views. Use the reflector of Love
whenever, you throw a search-light on a
fellow being; as a rule, a pleasing sight
will meet your gaze, and some new pleas
ure will lighten yotfr heart.
Did yomever notice how easy it is to
form the habit of ridiculing, or making
harsh comments on all that another may
do ? The girl may start it by feeling that
she must laugh .contemptuously at every
thing that is not up to the standard
which some false idea may have fixed in her
mind. By the time she is a “ young lady ”
she, perhaps, has an idea that nothing
which is done outside her “ select circle ” is
in proper form, and of course she must
point out every deviation from her views,
as something supremely detestable. The
habit grows upon her until, as a mature
woman, her tongue is used against almost
everyone, and her example is a dangerous
one for all young minds that may come
within the bounds of her influence.
It is very hard at times to refrain from
speaking when we cannot speak well of a
fellow creature, but surely it is a part of
the Golden Rule, and we can bring many
blessings to ourselves and others by follow
ing this rule.
What changes would come, if it should
be observed throughout civilization for a
day. And I wonder why it is so hard fotj
mankind to follow it. Why should it >W<
so difficult for us to refrain from unkind
words? Why should we feel inclined to
retaliate when others seek to wound us by
cruel blows—or cruel words which may be
worse than blows ? They come ohly from
natures that are weak or base—from
natures that deserve pity rather than
abuse. Blows or cruel words in return
can only excite to a greater extent the
ignominious instincts of the offender,
while a kind word or a considerate silence
may beget" a feeling of shame and re
pentance.
I would ask that you be slow to answer
or to act if you feel thS! another has
wronged you. To-morrow will be alPtoo
soon to seek revenge, but all the coming
days cannot recall the spiteful step we
take to-day. .1 have never understood the
meaning of the words: “Answer a fool
according to his folly,” but I am impressed
with the idea that it is often best not to
answer him at all. The undisturbed echo
of his own words is sometimes so clear
that even he will recognize their empti
ness, or lament their bitterness.
Above all things, be careful that you
inflict no wounds on other hearts. It
takes but little to wound a heart, for
hearts, are always tender. If you have
accused hastily, if you have spoken
roughly, if you have written unkindly,
lose no time in saying you were wrong,
WOMAN'S WORK.
and asking full forgiveness. It is just the
reverse of unmanly or unwomanly to ac
knowledge error and express regret. To do
this requires a brave heart and a noble na
ture; to speed the arrow of base innuendo or
poisonous sarcasm, requires nothing but
the hand of Jealousy to draw the bow of
Revenge. Can we imagine a stronger
evidence of weakness than this, in any
character?
Weigh well the meaning of words, and
know that unwise utterances are apt to
rebound with fearful effect. They perhaps
give us the only instance of gathered force,
when force is spent in one direction. If you
have cause to think a friend has wronged
you, seek him and state the grievance. If
he is a/riendhe will either convince you of
a wrong impression, or acknowledge the
fault and plead regret. r ln either case
prove yourself worthy of such a friend,
and know that he has become a better one
because of this better understanding.
And should he prove indeed no friend,
pray"for him, that he may be; then show
him by your daily life how ,priceless is
your friendship. *
t *
Guard well- your tongue at all times;
when you use a pen remember how easily
it may become the devil’s instrument.
What power it has;-, what weakness it
oft displays I ' What links it may add to
Friendship’s endless chain; alas I how
quickly it may break the chain forever I
What joy and merriment it conveys from
heart to heart; how inexpressibly sad are
many of its tidings! What a strong,
sweet stream may flow from its tiny point;
yet how suddenly may this stream be
changed to rankest poison !
Do you use thjs mighty weapon to
guard the sacred ties of life and make this
life more worth living: or have you been
misled* to think that each stroke must
wound some fellow traveler, to win you
fame (?) through bloody conquest?
And I would here remind each one that
it is not alone through public prints that
writers wield an influence. The sweetest
messages of love, the purest words of kind
advice, the strongest promises of lifelong
confidence, the ten derest lines of sympathy
in sadness, are penned direct from friend
to friend. For your own sake let no bit
terness creep in the lines, whether it be
social correspondence or for the world to
see.
And did you ever think how boldly you
aSre’writing your life-history in your let
ters? There may be little in them of
your daily life, and you may think that
they tell little of your thoughts or pur
poses, but I imagine there is rarely a cor
respondence between two friends, that each
does not unconsciously draw a picture of
self. Yea, the picture draws itself and is,
because of this, more real than studied ef
fort could produce. The portrait lines
may be so fine that only a trained eye can
detect them; or the character painting
may be “ between the lines,” but none the
less faithful to its subject. How vain are
the attempts at disguising I How much
more conspicuously do facts ofttimes stand
forth from a background of opposite as
sertions I In sorrow I own that woman
is so prone to these supposed deceptions.
Sincerely I hope that you are innocent of
this ; let conscience answer!
If I shall at any time point out a fault,
for your sake and for mine be not offended,
I hope I may never so far forget myself,
or dishonor my calling, as to do it except
from motives of sincerity and love. There
is great difference between fault-finding
and friendly observations and suggestions.
There is much of the former; be patient
and charitable towards those who have
no higher conception of life; the latter is
rare, and should not be mistreated.
Beside the pathway of life two flowers
grow for every traveller. The one was
planted by the God of Love. It may be
oalled the pure, white rose of Charity.
Its fragrance is delicate, and permeates
each act of those who choose its sweetness.
Its petals represent gentleness of speech,
sympathy of heart, purity of life and
sanctity of soul.
The other was planted by the demon
foe to happiness, and its poison may be
likened to that of the deadly upas tree.
Its colors attract but to lure away from
the more delicate flower beside it. Its
fragrance may be strong, but of a deceit
ful nature which will in time disgust, yet
not until the breath of misery has been in
haled by those who pluck it. Its petals
are synonyms of unkind words, of selfish
ness and jealousy, of sarcastic thrusts pr
angry outbursts, of all that makes home
unhappy and hearts estranged.
These are the flowers from which each
one must choose ; which will youtelect ?
♦ « 4*
For Woman’s Work.
HOW SHE LOST THREE YEARS.
- Mistakes in life are Often of momentous
consequence, and though they may be
sooner or later rectified, they will soine
times mar our lives for years. /We all
make errors that bring„regret, yet we are
generally brave enough to gather the
remnants of time and material and start
anew. Still if there are breakers ahead,
it is much wiser to avoid them than to lose
time and strength in finding how rough
and destructive they are.
One of the greatest miscalculations
made by young women who find it neces
sary to earn a living, is trying to do ther
kind of work for which they are entirely
unsuited. They soon discover that they
make little or no progress, and become
careless and uninterested; lack of interest
is death to any calling.
Here is* the experience of a young girl
who, rather than be idle, sought indepen
dence through her own labor. Her reso
lution “to labor truly to get her own
living” was commendable ; it was just and
right to others and to herself. But the
matter was not yet entirely settled, for
what could she do well enough to expect
pecuniary return ?
The ambition she had always cherished
was to be famous as an artist, and numer
ous paintings proved the possibility of
her desire. But selling the pictures was
out of the question in the small town in
which she lived. Teaching art was the
next and most practical suggestion; she
could do that—yes, she felt sure she could
do it well; but how could she go about the
village asking for pupils, perhaps to be
refused? Because of false and foolish
pride, she hesitated to do that for which
she possessed both love and capacity.
Lacking the force to go out and seek
what she wanted, this girl made the mis
take of her life in waiting for something
to turn up; something did drift to her in
the shape of the village school, secured by
an influential friend; and she accepted it,
thinking how fortunate she was.
Notwithstanding her foolish pride and
utter lack of courage, she possessed some
good traits. As a teacher she worked hard
and conscientiously ; the children loved
her, but she was not satisfied, for, after
three years of patient perseverance she felt
that she was no better teacher than she
was on the day she commenced. She
failed because she had no talent for the
work; there is quite as much art in teach
ing a little child and in making school
life profitable and attractive as there is in
blending on canvas the tints of the land
scape or the outlines of the human face.
Now. her only resource was painting,
and she turned gladly to it. During her
three years of misdirected effort her only
gain was a little common sense, and she
proceeded at once to make use of it. In a
short time she secured a large number of
drawing and painting pupils—both old
and young. At first her own little room,
furnished with a chair and an easel for
each pupil, was the best she could afford ;
but now, after a year of her heart’s chosen
work you may read her name on the door
plate of a large, well-furnished studio in
the flourishing village.
She knows now the mistake she made,
but is wise and does not look back. Into
her work she puts all her soul and energy,
and in return contentment and money
come to her.
Klatch.
Do that which is assigned you, and you
cannot hope too much or dare too much.
There is at this moment, for you, an utter
ance brave and grand as that of the colos
sal chisel of Phidias, or trowel of the
Egyptians, or the pen of Moses or Dante,
but different from all these.