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6 Worth Womans While The smallest effort is not lost; Each wavelet on the ocean tossed Aids in the ebb tide or the flow; Each raindrop makes some floweret blow, Each struggle lessens human woe. —Mackay. Mother’s Training is What We Need. It’s funny the way things work round—how the attainment of an end proves but the loss of some thing we had not foreseen, or entails effort equally strenuous in an entirely different direction. This thing of woman’s vaunted advance never fails to remind us of the old problem of the man in the well who, if he climb so many feet in a given time, and slip back so many more feet, how long will it take him to make his way out? We have just been reading the loud expression of a ranting Eng lish woman politician, at least one who advocates woman’s voting, and that sort of thing, and if she is not a politician, has the sound of one; and as it happened, almost in the next moment our eye fell on the account of Bishop Ripon’s plan for the in struction of persons contemplating entering on the married state. The woman politician boasts that women compete in very nearly every industry with men, but fails to make mention of any avenues neg lected in consequence; and the good bishop, with out a word of reproach or reminder so far as we have learned, sets bravely to work to build up the fences left recklessly down in the onward movement of feminine advance. Sometimes we have a dazed sort of feeling that things must have been wrong from the beginning; the whole system inaugurated by the Creator, or Nature, or whatever individual opinion may saddle with it, must have been all a fault, and woman is just now evoluting her own way bravely and glo riously out of a condition of unfairness and injus tice pitiable, indeed, to contemplate. Think of the thousands of years of women kept down and put upon by masculine domination, and now the splen did liberty and equality into which this twentieth century suddenly sees the sex emerged! And all by woman’s own effort, too. It is to laugh. Or weep—little, plain, old-fash ioned women, with just woman’s ways and woman’s short strength, feel more like shedding tears fox those who must go out into the long, hard day of man’s strenuous endeavor—man, whose frame was made strong and enduring, fitted to the burden; even his mental shape adapted by nature to handle with ease the subjects and conditions that loom large and formidable to the mind of more delicate and sensitive mold. If ever was any question of the inherent difference in the mentality of the two, the most casual observation of the infantile bent must convince, the inclination of the boy being from the time of first taking notice, to tools, and inquiry and investigation, and that of his sister to doll babies and home-making things—following but in stinct, the man is the builder of the house and woman the keeper. And to the woman God gave the children, these who grow up to look to building and keeping for themselves. Yet, how is this?—Mr. Upton Sin clair wanting to put the little ones into a sort of human incubator, and Bishop Ripon proposing in a regular training school to do what mothers have not done, teach young women the duties of home makers, housekeepers, or wives and mothers! If the women, following this English woman’s lead, are to “compete in every industry with men,” then, it is plain there is nothing left the men but to shoulder the problems so ruthlessly rejected, and pitch up as best they may the troubles brought about by feminine desertion. But think of it— a man scheming for a provision for the care and bringing up of children whose mothers, for-the press of social or other duties, have no time to devote to them! Planning a sort of communistic asylum |o which they may be consigned, there to be reared The Golden Age for August 16, 1906. By FLORENCE TUCKER by trained nurses and kindergarten teachers and physicians. And a man, seeing the need of neglect ed girls and young women, trying to make up to them in a school what their mothers have denied them—the teaching and training it was meant they should have in their natural guardian. At first thought it is amusing to conjure up in imagination a class of love-blinded young persons seated with would-be earnestness before a teacher, trying to learn in a few lessons the things which will make for success in the long partnership they are about to entei' upon. But the other and more serious side is the one the Bishop of Ripon sees. He takes a large view of life and its realities, this good bishop. Becoming engaged is to him a matter of real significance, the beginning, indeed, of mar ried life’s responsibility; and he sees the pathos in the utter unpreparedness of the young peoffle whose parents have neglected to teach them from childhood up the things that can be learned only so—“here a little and there a little,” all the way from infancy to the very threshold of the new home for which the daughter, or the son, leaves the family roof-tree. So it is proposed to found a school where “the women will be taught sewing, cooking, hygiene, house-cleaning and the bringing up of children,” and the men, “household econom ics,” with other things. And Englishmen are wide ly in favor of it, believing it will result in large good to the English nation. There is no question, it is a look in the right di rection. But what a rebuke to womankind! If mothers are not to teach their daughters the things required of them to become good wives and moth ers in their turn, then what are mothers for? And what duty do children owe to parents? It really appears, kind and well-managing men would make it very easy for the mothers—unless, indeed, they are to take their place in men’s fields. Alas, and alackaday! When women get too clever, too learned, too independent and self-as sertive, are wo not in danger of running amuck? While we are doing men’s work, they are having to leave their’s to undertake what they were never meant to do and can never do. and so all things are awry, and we are a reproach unto ourselves. We may be wrong about it, but with the light given us up to the present time, we have not been able to see that woman’s work (which Heaven gives into her hand as surely as man’s into his) is not only, in its way, of as high an order as man’s, but that it is sufficient for her—sufficient for her best talents, and the filling to the full of all the sphere she may imagine herself capable of. When she leaves her appointed place it is for fields not green er with opportunity or with promise, and whatever her conquests the joy must be tempered by the re membrance of those better things sacrificed for— what? At best but an imitation, or a re-produc tion; and a glory which is not a glory but a re proach. Children sent to a communistic home, and daugh ters to a training school for engaged people! Oh, we don’t need such things! Instead of asylums and schools let us just have more mothers, mothers such as we have known, themselves dowered with the gracious gifts of love and devotion, and of conscience, which things make homes such as noth ing else in earthly existence is comparable to, and to which come the men and women who are to the world what the savor is to the salt; mothers who would not leave to any other the rearing of their children, nor bring up daughters who must go to a school to learn what should have been their life long training. The children must be taken care of and the young girls instructed, and if it can’t be done in the natural order of Heaven, then, we say, all honor to Mr. Sinclair and to Bishop Ripon, and the furthest degree of success—though for our part, we would prefer just the old-fashioned way of mothers. Joy is the pf wine,—-George Eliot, The Beauty of Consideration. A short time ago, there was advertised in the daily papers of this city, a picnic, the announce ment reading to “Atlanta’s little children whose parents have no money to spare.” It was the an nual picnic of the Salvation Army to the poor chil dren, but how delicately it was put—“those whose parents have no money to spare”! When we read it we laid down the paper and thought—- It is one thing merely to give to the indigent and unfortunate, and another to accompany the giving with consideration and kindness. Alas, some—well intentioned people—do not understand this, and how blessed are those who do! Our heart was lov ing toward those good Salvation Army men and women when we read their delicate words, and pic tured the genuine good time they would give their three hundred little guests—a day’s happy outing for just unselfish love’s sake. And with no re straints to mar the pleasure, not even the thought of hospitality that muss be returned. Only the car ride, the freedom of the woods, the nice lunch, and—joy of the childish heart!—ice cream, whole buckets of it. It was such a generous sort of a picnic—it made us think of what a big-hearted man we, all of us, know for his broad charities, says about giving: “Don’t,” he says, “give the things that people have, or ought to have, every day, just common ne cessities. If you want to give to the poor, let it be something out of the ordinary, something like a gift, that will carry with it a sense of pleasure as well as need relieved. And whether or not it is the sanest philosophy there is kindness, a consid eration, about it, most graceful not alone to the recipient, but to all who know of it. Thank God for the goodness that is in the world, and all the sweet, generous kindness! Don’t Worry So. Oh, heart of mine, we shouldn’t i Worry so! What we’ve missed of calm we couldn’t Have, you know! What we’ve met of stormy pain, And of sorrow’s driving rain, We can better meet again, If it blow. For, we know, not every morrow, Can be sad; So, forgetting all the sorrow We nave had, Let us fold away our tears, And put by our foolish tears, And through all the coming years, Just be glad. —James Whitcomb Riley. The Health of Body Dependent on Habit of Thought. Certain habits of the body cannot be otherwise than gradually removed. So it is with certain hab its of thought, such as the habit of hurry, the habit or worry, the habit of laying undue stress on things not the most needful for the hour, the of trouble-borrowing and many others which perme ate and influence every act of life. Their com bined effect is exhaustion, and exhaustion is the real moi her of most of the ills flesh is heir to Therefore, keep your mind as much as you can on the thought of strength, vigor, health, activity. —Brentice Mulford. Gen. James Grant Wilson, of New York, has a large, old-fashioned seal ring, containing hairs from the head of Washington, Hamilton, Lincoln, Grant, Napoleon and Wellington. “To think well, eat well, and breathe well, i$ to live well, anc[ thus bq well.B