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diff --git a/40504-8.txt b/40504-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7ec5cfe..0000000 --- a/40504-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7837 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ginger-Snaps, by Fanny Fern - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Ginger-Snaps - -Author: Fanny Fern - -Release Date: August 14, 2012 [EBook #40504] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GINGER-SNAPS *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Matthew Wheaton and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - GINGER-SNAPS. - - BY - FANNY FERN, - AUTHOR OF - "FERN LEAVES,"--"FOLLY AS IT FLIES," &c. - - - NEW YORK: - _Carleton, Publisher, Madison Square._ - - LONDON: S. LOW, SON & CO. - - MDCCCLXX. - - - Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by - GEORGE W. CARLETON, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court - of the United States for the Southern District of New York. - - - Stereotyped at the - WOMEN'S PRINTING HOUSE, - Corner Avenue A and Eighth Street, - New York. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - Dinner-Parties - The Bride's New House - The Happy Lot of a Sexton - Literary Aspirants - What shall we do for the Little Children on Sunday? - My House in the Country - Why Wear Mourning? - "Delightful Men" - Choosing Presents - A Bid for an Editorship - A Sermon to Plymouth Pulpit - Female Clerks - Blue Monday - The Fly in the Ointment - Woman's Millennium - English Notions about Women - Rag-tag and Bob-tail Fashions - Some Hints to Editors - Help for the Helpful - Women on the Platform - Poverty and Independence - The History of the Late War - Two Kinds of Women - Sunday Morning - Justice for Clergymen - The Old Maid of the Period - The Nurse of the Period - A Look Backward - Varieties of Human Nature - "A Good Mistress always makes a Good Servant" - The Mother-Touch - Some Gossip about Myself - Hospitality - Woman and Her Watch - "My Doctor" - A Woman at a Lecture - Can't be Suited - Autograph-Hunters - The Etiquette of Hotel Piazzas - Old Stockbridge in Massachusetts - Sunday in the Village - Sick in the Village - Men and their Clothes - Notes from Plymouth Rock - No Beaux Anywhere - Daniel Webster's Home - A Trip to Richmond - The Coming Landlord - Out on the End of Cape Ann - Country Diet - From my Seat on the Rocks - Wishings and Longings - A Transition State - What Mary thought of John - Travel-Spoiled Americans - Life's Illusions - Jack Simpkins - Biding the Lord's Time - One Sort of Fool - The First Baby - - - - -PREFACE. - - -When I was a little girl, I used to play "make ginger-snaps;" and I -always tossed in all the ginger in the spice-box, be it more or less; -so if you find these rather biting, attribute it to the force of early -habits. Beside, they are not intended for a "square meal;" only to -nibble at, in the steamboat, or railroad-car, or under the trees in -the country; or when your dear, but tardy John, is keeping you -waiting, with your gloves buttoned, and your bonnet-strings tied; or, -best of all, when you are sitting in your rocking-chair, nursing that -dear little baby. I do not think the milk of human kindness is wanting -in these Ginger-Snaps, and I trust they are--_kneaded_. - - FANNY FERN. - - - - -GINGER-SNAPS. - - - - -_DINNER-PARTIES._ - - -To fasten as many drags as possible to the social machinery of to-day, -seems to be the first idea of hospitality, which, there is every -reason to fear, will gradually be smothered in the process. - -Perhaps the lady who gives the dinner-party would really prefer a -plain dinner with her friend Mrs. Jones, than all the elaborate -dinners she is in the habit of giving and attending; but her husband -likes wines and French cookery, and would consider anything else a -poor compliment to a guest; and so there's an end. - -And now, what are these fine dinners? Just this: a pleasant gleam of -silver and china; a lovely disposition of fruit and flowers; a great -deal of dress, or undress, on the part of the ladies; much -swallow-tail, and an exquisite bit of cravat and kid-glove, on the -part of the gentlemen. Brains--as the gods please; but always a -procession of dishes, marched on and marshalled off, for the requisite -number of tedious hours, during which you eat you know not what, -because you must be ready with your answer for your elbow neighbor, or -your _vis-a-vis_; during which, you taste much wine and nibble much -confectionery, and finish up with coffee; and under the combined -influence of all this you sink supinely into a soft chair or sofa, and -the "feed" is over. - -Everybody there feels just as you do. Everybody would like to creep -into some quiet corner, and be let alone, till the process of -digestion has had a chance. - -Instead--they throw a too transparent enthusiasm into the inquiry, -"How's your mother?" If the gods are kind, and there has been an -inroad of measles or fever, the narrator may possibly give you ten -minutes' reprieve from pumping up from beneath that dinner another -query about "the baby." But if he--or she, too--is laboring, like -yourself, with duck and quail, and paté and oyster, and wine and fruit -and bon-bons, then may a good Providence put it into the distracted -brain of the hostess to set some maiden a-foul of the piano! - -Oh, but that is blessed! no matter what she plays, how hard she -thumps, or how loud she screeches. Blessed--to lean back, and fold -your kid gloves over your belt, and never move them till you applaud -the performance, of which you know, nor care, any more than who struck -Billy Patterson. - -This over, you see a gentlemen coming towards you. You know by his -looks, he too is suffering the pangs of repletion. Good heavens! how -full of deceit is his smile, as he fastens on you, thinking _you_ -will talk! Mistaken man! you smile too, and both together agree that -"the weather has been fine of late." This done, you look helplessly, -with the untold pain of dumb animals, in each other's faces, and then -glance furtively about to see if that piano-young-woman really means -to leave your anguish unassuaged. She does. Hum!--you make an errand -across the room to pick up a suppositious glove you dropped--and get -rid of the parasite. - -At last!--relief--there is your husband. _How_ glad he is to see you! -It's really worth going to the dinner-party to witness that man's -affection for you at that moment. Now he can yawn behind his glove. -Now he takes a seat _so_ near, that no man or woman can interrupt his -lazy heaven. He even smiles at you from very gladness of heart, and in -thick utterance tells you, in order to keep you from going from his -side, that "he don't see but you look as well as any woman in the -room." You only needed that unwonted display of gallantry from the -hypocritical wretch, to rise immediately and leave him to his fate, -though you should, in doing it, rush madly on your own. - -And this is "a dinner-party." For this men and women empty their -purses, and fill their decanters and wardrobes, and merge their brains -in their stomachs, and--are in the fashion! - -Better is a leg of mutton and caper-sauce, and much lively talk, -whensoever and wheresoever a friend, with or without an invitation, -cares enough about you and yours with impromptu friendship to "drop -in." Best clothes, best dishes, best wine, best parlors!--what are -they, with rare exceptions, but extinguishers of wit and wisdom and -digestion and geniality. Who will inaugurate us a little common-sense? - -Queen Victoria--how glad I am she had such a good, loving husband, to -compensate her for the misery of being a queen--tried her best to -abolish the custom, prevalent in England at dinner, of the gentlemen -remaining to guzzle wine after the ladies left. I am aware that guzzle -is an unladylike word; but, as no other fits in there, I shall use it. -Well--she succeeded only in shortening the guzzling period--not in -abolishing it; so those consistent men remained, to drink toasts to -"lovely women," whose backs they were so delighted to see retreating -through the door. - -What of it? Why, simply this, that Queen Victoria did what she could -to civilize her own regal circle; and that she set a good precedent -for American women of to-day to follow. I fail to see why, when a -hostess has carefully watched the dishes and glasses come and go, at -her husband's dinner-party, to the obstruction of all rational -conversation, save by agonized spasms,--I fail to see why, when the -gentlemen guests have eaten to satiety, and conversation might be -supposed to be at last possible, why, at that precise, enjoyable -period, the lady of the house should be obliged to accompany the empty -plates to regions unknown and uncared for. This seems to me a -question well worthy of consideration in this year of our Lord, 1868. -It strikes me, rather an inglorious abdication for a woman of -intelligence, who may be supposed to understand and take an interest -in other things than the advance and retreat of salad, and ragouts, -oysters, and chicken. I call it a relic of barbarism, of which men of -intelligence should be ashamed. Then what advantage has the woman who -cultivates her mental powers, over the veriest fool? It is an insult -to her. But you say, all women are not thoughtful or intelligent. Very -true: and why should they be--save that they owe it to their own -self-respect--when gentlemen thus offer premiums for insipidity?--why -should they inform themselves upon any subjects but those of dressing -well and feeding well? - -It is a satisfaction to know that there are gentlemen, who endorse the -other side of the question. There was lately a dinner given in New -York to a literary gentleman of distinction. One of the gentlemen -invited to attend it, said to his wife: "It is a shame that ladies -should not attend this dinner. _You_ ought to be there, and many other -ladies who are authors." Acting upon this impulse, he suggested to the -committee that ladies should be invited. The answer was: First--"It -would be so awkward for the ladies. Secondly--there were very few -literary ladies compared to the number of literary gentlemen." Now as -to the question of "awkwardness," the boot, I think, was on the other -foot; and if the ladies were awkward,--which was not a complimentary -supposition,--why should the gentlemen be to blame for it? And if -there were "few lady authoresses," why not ask the wives of the -_editors_ who were to be present? - -No--this was not the reason. - -What was it? _Tobacco_--yes, sir, tobacco! I don't add wine--but I -might. In short, these men would be obliged to conduct themselves as -gentlemen were ladies present; and they wanted a margin left for the -reverse. They preferred a bar-room atmosphere to the refining presence -of "lovely woman," about whom they wished to hiccup at a safe -distance. - -Perhaps, in justice, I should add, that it was suggested that they -might perhaps see the animals feed from the "musicians' balcony," or -listen to the speeches "through the crack of a door," with the -servants, or in some such surreptitious and becoming and complimentary -manner, which a woman of spirit and intelligence would, of course, be -very likely to do. - -To conclude, I trust those gentlemen who are in the habit of bemoaning -"the frivolity of our women, and their sad addictedness to long -milliner's bills," will reckon up the cost of cigars and wine at these -dinners, from which ladies are excluded; and while they are on the -anxious seat, on the economy question, ask themselves whether, putting -other reasons out of the question, the presence of ladies, on these -occasions, would not contribute greatly to _reduce their dinner -expenses_? - -I lately read an article in a London paper, in which "the -woman-question" was treated in the following enlightened manner: The -writer avowed his dislike to the cultivation of woman's intellect; -since men had enough intellect, in their intercourse with each other; -and wanted only with woman that charming, childish prattle and -playfulness, which was so refreshing to the male creature, when he -needed relief and amusement! - -The author of these advanced ideas didn't state whether he considered -these _childish_, _prattling_ women fit to be mothers and heads of -families; probably that was too puerile a question to consider in the -same breath with the amusement they might afford men by the total -absence of intelligence. - - * * * * * - -It is a wonder that Christians of different denominations do not see, -that while they are spending the precious hours contending for the -non-essentials, which are but as the fringe to the "wedding-garment," -that souls are slipping past them into eternity, uncared-for and -unprepared. One is often painfully struck with this thought, in -reading, or hearing, the acrid disputes of mistaken, but well-meaning, -zealots. - - - - -_THE BRIDE'S NEW HOUSE._ - - -Spick and span, thorough and fresh, from attic to cellar. Pretty -carpets and pictures, and glass, and silver, and china, and -upholstery, and a pretty bride for the mistress! Receptions over, she -looks about her. Hark! what's that? A mutiny down stairs! She didn't -foresee so speedy a grapple with Intelligence offices, even if any at -all. She remembers, 'tis true, that the coachman came one day to -announce to mamma that "the cook was stiff drunk," and the dinner -consequently in a state of indefinite postponement; and she remembers -that a new cook soon took her place; and she has a misty recollection -of a chamber-maid who left suddenly because she was requested not to -use the cologne, and then fill up the bottle with water; and she knows -another chamber-maid arrived before night, who had so tender a -conscience that she couldn't say the ladies were "out," when they were -in the bath, or in bed, and yet would appropriate handkerchiefs and -ribbons and gloves without even winking. Still, she never thought of -being bothered in this way, when _she_ was married. It was all to be a -rosy dream of love and quiet and comfort, and immunity from vulgar -frets. "Well, she goes down into her kitchen, and inquires into the -mutiny, and finds that the chamber-maid has called the cook a 'nasty -thing;' and both are standing in the middle of the kitchen-floor like -two cats on top of a fence, neither of which will give way for the -other, snarling, spitting, and growling, and making the fur fly at -intervals. She tries to pacify them, but they out-scream each other, -till her head cracks, defending themselves. She goes up to George, -with both hands over her ears, and asks him 'if it isn't dreadful?'" -He says, with an executive wave of his conjugal hand, "Send them both -off, and go to an Intelligence-office, my dear, and get others." _He_ -thinks "going to an Intelligence-office," and breathing the -concentration of "marasmus" in a little den ten feet square, for an -hour, is to be the end of it. He don't take into account the -"character" that is to be hunted up at the last place Sally lived in, -up in Twenty-thousandth street, the mistress of which will keep his -little wife waiting an hour to dress, before she comes down; while -Sally is meantime airing her heels in the Intelligence-office, whither -the new bride is to return and report, affirmatively or the reverse. -If affirmatively, George supposes again that there's an end of it. Not -a bit. Now, Biddy is to be instructed an hour or two every day, where -to find spoons, forks, knives, towels, napkins, brooms, dusters, and -where and how to use them, and at the end of a week's education, she -will never once set a table without harrowing mistakes, even if, at -the end of that time, her opinion of some other servant in the house -does not necessitate her "finding another place;" or because, though -ignorant of all she professed thoroughly to understand when she came, -she objects to being "followed 'round". - -'Tis true the little bride might dodge the Intelligence(?) offices and -"advertise," thus holding a servant's levee for several days in her -parlors and hunting "characters" at immense distances afterwards; or, -she might take a list of advertisements, and scour the city in -disagreeable localities, up pairs of stairs innumerable, to find the -advertisers "just engaged," if she prefer that. Either way, _the -grapple_ is to be met, in the person of cook, chambermaid, or -waitress, or all three, every few weeks; and all this, though the -little bride may ask no questions of the speedy disappearance of the -household stores, or how many people unknown to her are fed at all -hours out of them. Although she may prefer not to see that her damask -table-napkins are used for dish-towels, or that the mattresses are -never turned over when the beds are made, or that the broom never -invades the corners of any apartment, but merely takes a _swish_ -through the centre. She may also be silent when she is told that a -closet has been cleaned and put in order, although to her certain -knowledge it has never been touched; for is not the virtuous and -indignant rejoinder always ready, "D'ye think I'd _lie_, mum?" - -Now, what comfort is her pretty silver, half cleaned, and bruised and -scratched in the process? What consolation her pretty dishes, with -the handles knocked off? What pleasure her china nicked at the edges? -Which way soever she turns, waste, ignorance, and obstinacy stare her -in the face. And is her life to be all this? Yes, except an interval -now and then, when she lies with a little one on her arm, with a -doctor and a nurse between her and the "grapple;" and the vision, as -she gets better, of hunting up a nurse-maid, who, horror of horrors! -will be "always under her nose." - -I do not say there are not exceptions to this gloomy picture, but they -are rare. Sometimes a godsend of an aunt, or housekeeper, stands -between the mistress of the house and all this "how not to do it." But -till Intelligence-offices have something besides the raw material to -offer on the one hand, or on the other, servants who insist upon -performing your work "as Mrs. Jones did," and who resent as an insult -the mildest intimation that you prefer your own way, and object -totally to your going over your house in every part once a day, to see -if things are right--while this state of things continues, the -mistress, be she young or old, must needs take refuge from this -grapple in hotel life, or spend her existence watching the arrival of -emigrant ships. - -No man has any call to speak or write on this subject, since they know -nothing about it. One of them recently explained the present -wastefulness of servants to be caused "by the extravagant way of -living indulged in by their mistresses." Waiving the truth or -falsehood of the charge, I rise to inquire, whether the dishonesty -and fast-living of clerks, be not attributable to the fashionable -vices and lavish expenditures of their business employers. Having -aired this little question, I proceed to say, that the dissatisfaction -with regard to servants is undoubtedly every day greatly on the -increase. In most instances, their utter disqualifications for the -high wages they demand, are patent to every observing housekeeper. If -the lady of the house wishes her work properly and systematically -done, she must, in addition to paying such wages, do half the work -herself; or, which amounts to the same thing, oversee these -incompetent servants; who, at the end of even two months' teaching, -either cannot, or will not, learn to do it faithfully. They who slight -their work the most, are of course most unwilling to have the -supervision. Indeed these very servants will often say, "that having -done chamber-work, or cooking, for such a number of years in New York, -they don't need _any_ lady to instruct them how!" So that the mistress -has to choose between a constant and irritating war of words, or a -mismanaged household. To preserve one's patience or serenity, under -such household friction, or to get time for anything else, is a very -difficult task indeed. Now every _right-minded_ mistress of a -household desires, not only to have it well ordered, but to feel an -interest in the welfare of those women who serve her: she would be -glad, if they have a sorrow, to lighten it; if they are sick, to nurse -them kindly; and in every way to help them to feel, that she does not -look upon them as "beasts of burden," but as human beings. - -I affirm that the present generation of servants neither care for nor -understand this. All they want is, to be "let severely alone." Not to -be "followed up," as they phrase it. If you hear the area-bell ringing -punctually every day when your meals are served, they expect the fact, -quite ignored by you, that some big nephew, or cousin, or lover, or -uncle, with a robust appetite, comes at those times for his bowl of -tea, or coffee, or a bit of meat, with some warm vegetables. They -will, if found out, lie about it, with an unblushing effrontery which -is perfectly astounding; or, if well up to New York area ways, will, -with arms akimbo, inquire, "Well, what's a cup of tay, or a sup of -coffee, or a bit of mate, now and thin, to rich folks?" and that -although this may and does happen every day, and two or three times a -day. As to cultivating any good understanding, or feeling, with such -unscrupulous servants, it is simply impossible. There is no foundation -in them for any such superstructure. Not long since, one such servant -was requested at a time of sickness in the family, "to step about the -house softly in the morning, as the patient had a sleepless night." -She stared defiantly at the person making this gentle request, and -inquired in a loud voice, "_if this wasn't a free country?_" Not long -after this she smashed a very pretty butter-dish; and when told that -it just cost five dollars, she loftily inquired, "_Well, what's five -dollars?_" - -Now what progress can even an intelligent, well-meaning, -kind-intentioned mistress make with such a savage element as this? - -One replies, "Oh, don't keep them, of course; get others." Very -well--you wear out a pair of boots "_getting_ others." To your horror, -you discover that the new cook is subject "to attacks" which confine -her to her bed, with--a gin bottle! till she feels like convalescing. -The last lady she lived with, in the "recommendation" with which she -got her own neck out of the noose, put yours into it by omitting to -mention this little fact; so that again you must start on your travels -"_Intelligence_"-ward. - -During these changes of programme, a house gets pretty well -demoralized; every servant who comes, expects to find nothing to do in -the way of putting it to rights; and often when her lazy dream in this -respect is realized, she will be very far, when _she_ leaves, from -putting her successor's mind, or bones either, at rest on this point. - -All this is sufficiently rasping and vexatious. One lady remarked to -me, "Oh! as for me, I neither know nor see, anything that they do. I -have to choose between this or a lunatic asylum. I can't fight all the -time; and if you change, there's only a new _kind_ of misery." - -"Your husband must have a long purse, my dear," I remarked. She -shrugged her shoulders, and asked me "where I bought my new bonnet?" - -Now, this state of things is deplorable enough. I can very well -understand, and sympathize with, the disgust many right-minded women -arrive at, after a panorama of such Sallys and Betseys have passed -through their pretty houses, intent only on high wages, waste, and -plunder. To fight it, only sours one's temper, and wastes one's life. -There's no right feeling about them; they have neither conscience nor -industry. "I have done my best," said a lady to me, "to teach and -civilize and humanize them, but I tell you there's nothing to work -upon; so, after giving my orders in the morning, I will neither hear -nor see anything more about it." - -Well, another lady will keep on her feet all day, trying to bring -things to a focus; trying the impossible task of putting brains where -there is nothing but a great void; trying to encourage--trying to -lighten burdens by shouldering half herself, or getting substitutes to -help; and thus by superhuman efforts she gets her husband's little -culinary comforts all attended to at the right time, and every -disagreeable thing put under lock and key before his return; but she -sits down opposite him at the table with no appetite, with not an idea -in her aching head; the well-ordered repast only representing -back-aches and vexation of spirit. - -Now this is rather a steep price to pay for housekeeping, and that is -why the cunning little lady above referred to dodged it, and saved -incipient wrinkles. - -In conclusion, I beg leave to suggest to ladies that they must stop -"recommending" dishonest or incapable servants, merely because "they -don't want a quarrel with them." In the next place, if it be true -that the keepers of intelligence-offices, for a stipulated sum, will -furnish "a character" for any kind of girl able to furnish the money, -is it not time something were done about this? - -Finally, in the name of all the New York ladies, _I_ know, or have -heard speak, in private, on the subject, let China, or Africa, or -Professor Blot with his travelling cook-shop, and all the laundry -establishments, come speedily to the rescue, and find us a way of -escape. If you ask, by way of postscript, if there are _no_ exceptions -to the kind of servants I have described above, I answer by asking -you, how often you find a four-leaved clover, or a black holly-hock, -or a green rose? - - * * * * * - -Let the poor wretch, smarting under the lash of the critic, remember -that indigestion has lent point and bitterness to many a sentence -which would else have been kindly. He can add to this, that critics -are subject, like others, to envy, ambition, and little -uncharitablenesses, which grow out of them. Also, that "mutual -admiration" societies are _not_ extinct. Also, that some critics look -through political, some through religious, and some through -atheistical spectacles; and if this don't assuage his anguish, let him -remember that a thousand years hence both the critic and himself will -have passed into happy oblivion. - - - - -_THE HAPPY LOT OF A SEXTON._ - - -Not a bad thing to be the sexton of a church. In the first place, he -gets a conspicuous start in life, by advertising on the outer wall of -the church, his perfect willingness to bury all the parish in which he -carries on his cheerful business,--a business which can never be dull -with him, because somebody is always dying, and somebody else is -always being born for the same end. Then Sunday comes regularly once a -week, so that his "shop" never closes, and consequently always wants -his broom of reform. Then the sexton has his little alleviations, when -he has had enough of the sermon: he can make an errand out in the -vestibule, after imaginary bad children, who might disturb the -minister, or to see that the outer door don't creak or bang -un-Sabbatically. When he gets tired of that, he can sit comfortably -down on his stool near the door, which he can tilt back on its hind -legs, out of view of all critical worshippers (except _me_), and then, -and there, he can draw out that omnipresent and national jack-knife, -which is his ever-present solace in every time of need. First--he can -clean his nails, and pare them, varying the performance by biting off -their refractory edges. Then he can commence scratching off any -little spots on his trousers or coat with the point of the same. When -this little exercise is concluded, and the sermon is _not_, he can -draw from another pocket a case-comb, and put those fine touches to -his hair which the early church-bell had interfered with. It is -tiresome on him then for a few minutes, unless some impertinent -sunbeam gilds the minister's sacerdotal nose, and gives him an excuse -for going up in the gallery to lower a curtain, in that dexterous -manner which only a professional can compass. By this time -"seventeenthly" having been concluded by the minister, the sexton -hurries to the church-door, doubling up with a dexterous twist any -aisle-chairs which have done duty _pro tem_. and tucking them in their -appropriate corner, and then takes his position in the porch, the most -important personage present save the minister himself. To the -questions, "Is it the clergymen of this church who has just preached?" -addressed him by some stranger, and "Is there to be an afternoon or an -evening service?" and "Can you tell me where is the clergyman's -residence?" and "Will you hand this note to the clergyman?" etc., -etc., he returns a prompt and proud answer. And, even when Miss -Belinda Jones steps to his elbow, and requests that he will pay a -little more attention to ventilating the church between the services, -and in fact during the week, in order that she may escape the -infliction of her usual Sunday headache; and when she expatiates -touchingly on the blessing and healthfulness and cheapness of fresh -air, and his Christian duty to apportion a sufficient quantity to -each individual to sustain life, and that meek and quiet spirit that -is enjoined; even then, he bows respectfully, nor mentions that, were -ventilation thus insured by open windows, and the life of the audience -prolonged, it might make him a little more trouble in dusting the -cushions, which he could by no means permit. The polite sexton does -not mention this, nor that he "hates fidgetty females" but he bows -politely and affirmatively, locks up the bad air in the church all the -same, and goes home to his roast-beef and his babies. - - * * * * * - -Upon his box the hackman sits and reads the newspaper, while his -blanketed horses wait for the coming customer. In the cars the -mechanic holds it, hastily running over its columns at this his only -time for reading. Even in the ferry-boat the clerk and school-girl -bend their heads, absorbed and well pleased. At places of amusement, -before the curtain rises, the audience beguile the time by conning its -pages; and even early comers to church improve the minutes by perusing -the Sunday-school papers before the services begin. With these facts -before us, who shall estimate the influence, for good or evil, of the -newspaper? Who shall question the dignity of an editor's position, or -measure his responsibilities? - - - - -_LITERARY ASPIRANTS._ - - -It is the most astonishing thing that persons who have not sufficient -education to spell correctly, to punctuate properly, to place capital -letters in the right places, should, when other means of support fail, -send MSS. for publication. Now before me lies just such a MS., -accompanying which is a letter requesting me to read it, give the -writer my opinion of it, and hand the same to some publisher. - -Now, here is my opinion. In the first place, every editor is crowded -with offered MSS. from all sources. Secondly, many of the writers -would not mind not receiving pay for the same, could they only see -that MS. in print in a certain journal that they have selected. In -fact, many times they would rather _pay for having it inserted_ than -to have it declined. This much for the glut in the market. - -Then, after this, an editor makes his own selections. It may be he has -already a sufficient corps of contributors, and does not care for, and -will not entertain, any fresh applications. But suppose this is not -the case. Suppose he looks over, or employs a person to look over, -these various MSS. What chance, I ask you, among the myriads, has a -MS., every other word of which is misspelt, and which is wrongly -punctuated, and without paragraphs or capitals, and illegibly written -beside, and, _crowning bother of all_, written on _both_ sides of the -page, over those which are just the reverse; which are no trouble to -read, which require no revision, and which contain _ideas_ as well as -words? - -Very well: after all that, an editor has to decide, among even these -_properly prepared_ MSS., which is best suited to _his_ individual -paper, about which he has, and very properly, his own notions and -ideas. Now an article may be well written, and yet not be the thing he -wishes for his paper, although it might be the very thing desired for -another. Well--he of course rejects it, as he has an undoubted right -to do. He could not carry on his paper or magazine successfully on any -other principle. You would not ask a grocer to buy a piece of calico -because you wanted money for that calico. He would immediately say, -"It is not in my line of business; I can make no use of it. I am sorry -you are in want of money; but business is business. I will make you a -_present_ of three or four dollars, as the case may be; but your -calico is of no use to me." - -Now you could see the force of _that_: why can't you be made to -understand that it is just so, only a _great deal more so_, with an -editor? - -Perhaps you say to me, "Ah, you forget the time when _you_ began." I -beg your pardon, but I do not. Many a weary tramp I had; much pride I -put in my pocket, and few pennies, even with the advantage of a good -education, and a properly prepared MS., and the initiation "of reading -proof"--for my father, who was an editor, when I was not more than -twelve years old--before I succeeded. - -It is _because_ I know; it is because I have been behind the scenes, -that I tell you plainly the preliminary steps to be taken before you -"send MSS. for publication," to any one. - -Then, don't you see, it is not agreeable to write thus to a person who -quite puts these preliminary steps out of sight, either through -ignorance or conceit: My Dear Sir, or my Dear Madam, this wont do! you -have neither education nor ideas. This appears to them unfeeling; but -it is not. It is doing such persons a much greater kindness than you -could do them by luring them on with the idea of reward, thus wasting -their time, which might be used _successfully_ in other directions, -only to end in mortification and disappointment. - -History and Biography show--perhaps you say to me--that many great men -and great writers are deficient in spelling and chirography. Yes, that -is true; but have you not admitted that they were "_great_ writers"? -An editor may be content to keep on sifting, if he is sure of finding -_wheat_; but when the result is _only_ chaff, life is too short for -it; and his necessity to live, equally with your own, too pressing. - -One specimen is as good as a thousand. My last was from a young -person, who tells me that she is tired of sewing for a living, and -wants to write; also, that she wants to write for a certain editor. -Also, that this editor would do much better, were he to take the large -sums he pays to his favorite contributors, who do _not_ need it, and -"assist struggling genius." Also, that "she wishes me to remember that -_I_ once struggled myself." Also, that she wishes me to inform her how -I went to work to get a publisher. - -Now, to begin with, this young woman misspelt every other word in her -letter, besides entirely ignoring capitals and punctuation. This of -course settled in the outset the question of her present literary -possibilities. Editors do not expect to find these things for their -correspondents; at least I know one who don't; and when he "pays large -sums of money to his favorite contributors" for supplying this very -lack, with ideas included, I presume he knows what he is about, and I -think he has the same right to prefer good spelling in his paper that -the writer of this letter has to prefer literary work to sewing. - -Now as to "how I got a publisher." _I didn't get him. He got me._ And -when this young woman produces anything a publisher wants, or thinks -he wants, she will probably have a call from one too. - -Next, I don't forget "that I once struggled myself." It adds zest to -my life every hour to remember it. I love the little cosey house I -live in, as I never else could do, because I earned the money to buy -it myself; and I thank God that, if I lost it to-day, and coupons and -banks also gave out, that I am hale and strong enough, and have the -will and the courage, even at this late day, to begin anew. So much -for that. But I do _not_ believe it to be kindness to advise this -uneducated young woman to throw up her present means of support, how -disagreeable soever it may be, for one, that in her present illiterate -state is utterly hopeless. - -Scores of such letters I get, so that I have sometimes thought I would -have a printed circular, embodying the above obvious difficulties in -the way of "literary aspirants," and mail it on receipt of their -epistles. To-day I concluded that I would, once for all, air my views -on the subject. After this, every letter from a "literary aspirant" -_which is misspelled_ goes into my waste-paper basket. - -Having said all this, I may, in justice to myself, own up to the fact, -that time and again I have given up my own most imperative writing to -correct, and _try_ to make presentable, MSS. for which I was requested -to "_find a publisher_," and which I knew had not the ghost of a -chance, and all because _I did not_, as this young woman advises me, -"forget that I once struggled myself." I never received one word of -thanks for it, but instead dissatisfaction that "_somehow_" I had not -insured success. I remember, in one instance, having spent nearly a -month over a book in MS., laying aside a book of my own, then in -process of preparation; often sitting up late at night, because I -could not else get time enough to devote to it; the writer of this -MS. repaying me only with abuse and defamation, as I afterwards -learned. - -So my conscience is quite clear on the subject of remembering, and in -the best way too, my own early struggles. I have tried, in this -article to express myself so as not to be misunderstood. Still I have -no doubt that some "literary aspirant," feeling himself or herself -aggrieved, will haste to set me down an unfeeling wretch. I can stand -it. - - * * * * * - -The man with good, firm health is rich. - -So is the man with a clear conscience. - -So is the parent of vigorous, happy children. - -So is the editor of a _good_ paper, with a big subscription list. - -So is the clergyman whose coat the little children of his parish -pluck, as he passes them on their play. - -So is that wife who has the whole heart of a good husband. - -So is the maiden whose horizon is not bounded by the "coming man," but -who has a purpose in life, whether she ever meet him or not. - -So is the young man who, laying his hand on his heart, can say, "I -have treated every woman I ever saw as I should wish my sister treated -by other men." - -So is the little child who goes to sleep with a kiss on its lips, and -for whose waking a blessing waits. - - - - -_WHAT SHALL WE DO FOR THE LITTLE CHILDREN ON SUNDAY?_ - - -"Take them to church, of course," says one. Now, I don't think it is -"of course," when I look about, and see little things of four and six -years old, and sometimes younger, fidgetting and squirming in their -out-door wrappings, in a hot, crowded, badly ventilated church, to -whom the services are a dead language, and who prevent those around -them from worship, through pity for their evident uncomfortableness. I -don't think it is "of course" when I see this. To be sure, there are -mothers whose pockets contain alleviations for this juvenile -restlessness, in the shape of sugar-plums, or picture-books; but all -the time they are being applied, the mother's eye must be on the child -instead of the clergymen, lest sticky fingers intrude upon silk or -velvet, or a too hasty rattling of leaves in reading the book drown -the sound of the preacher's voice. "They should be taught to behave," -gravely asserts some person, who, perhaps, has forgotten his own -childhood, or has never been a parent. That is true: we only differ as -to the question whether church is the place to pursue that education. -"Well, suppose you keep a child of that age at home?" asks another. -"Of course he ought not to play with his toys as on other days, and -he can't read all day, and no one can read or talk all day to him, and -what are you going to do then?" In the first place, I, for one, should -never "take away its toys" before I could enable it to pass Sunday -pleasantly without them; and, of course, I should not allow them -directly to interfere with other persons' enjoyment of quiet on -Sunday. It is a very difficult problem to solve, I know; but I am -sure, to make Sunday a tedium and disgust, is not the way; we have all -known too many sad instances of the terrible rebound of adult years -from this un-wisdom. We have all known instances where "going to -meeting" was _not_ prematurely forced upon the restless little limbs -of children, who have, when a little older, asked to accompany the -family to worship, and been pleased to go. Nor would I deprive a child -of its accustomed walk in the fresh air on that day; on the contrary, -I should be most anxious that it should as usual enjoy the out-door -brightness. I would also always have for that day some little pleasure -which belonged especially to it. It may be some plain little cakes or -nuts of which it was fond. I would always have on hand some stories to -read, or to tell it, on that day. If possible, I would have flowers on -Sunday placed at the child's plate; I would strive that Sunday should -be the _cheerfullest_ day of all the week to it--not a bugbear. I -believe all this might be done, without disturbing any Christian's -church-membership, or perilling any child's salvation. In the country -it is much easier to make Sunday pleasant for children than in the -city. You have only to let them stray into the garden or field, and be -happy in the best way a little unformed mind can he. Or, if the -weather interferes with this, the barn and the animals are a -never-failing source of pleasure to it. - -There are those who might think it "wicked" to do this. The -wickedness, to me, consists in making Sunday, which should be a -delight, such a tedium, that, in after years, whenever the word -strikes upon the ear, or the day returns, the first impulse is to shun -and evade it. Oh, let Sunday be what the memory of "mother's room" is -to us all--radiant with perfume of flowers and sunshine. The bright -spot to look back upon, when old age sits in the chimney-corner, with -the sweet psalm from voices hushed by death, or far removed, still -sounding in the ears; with the memory of happy faces over the Sunday -meal; the glad "Good-morning" and the soft "Good-night." - -Surely the God who opens the flowers on Sunday, and lets the birds -sing, did not mean that we should close our eyes to the one or our -ears to the other, or that we should throw a pall over the little -children. - - - - -_MY HOUSE IN THE COUNTRY._ - - -When I live in the country, the front door of my house shall be made -for use, and not for show; and the blinds and windows shall be thrown -wide open from sunrise until sunset; and I will issue invitations to -the bees and birds and butterflies to come in and out at their own -convenience, without fear of molestation from me, or of danger to my -furniture or belongings. If a few mosquitoes follow suit, I will -accept them as a necessary evil, and not to be compared, in the way of -annoyance, with that air of sepulchral gloom which, like a wet blanket -of mist, surrounds the exterior of most country dwellings, where the -men, women, and children skulk round like burglars to the _back_ of -the house to effect an entrance, and the closed door and blinds are -suggestive of a corpse awaiting burial. And yet I think I understand -how this bad custom came about. It was from many babies and much -darning and baking, and the dread of impending fly-specks on the gilt -frame encircling General Washington and the large looking-glass. But, -dear friends, put a mahogany frame round the General, and banish the -looking-glass, which will, in a few years, if you neglect all that -makes home cheerful, reflect only the imprint of life's cares, -instead of its pleasures and contents. "_They_ are so very few," you -say. Well, then the more necessity for letting in the sunshine. As I -walk about, I notice the careworn, pallid faces of the wives and -mothers about many of these country homes, and the careless untidiness -of dress which, in a woman, means that she has given the whole thing -up, either from overwork or lack of sympathy from the one person for -whom the shining hair was once neatly combed, and the strip of white -collar carefully pinned, although it might be late in the day before -time was found to do these things. When I see these women at -nightfall, in this neglectful dress, sitting alone upon the back -door-step, while the husband and father has strolled off to some -neighbor's, and lies flat on his stomach on the grass, with half a -dozen other husbands and fathers, browsing like so many cattle, -without a thought of those weary women, I fall to thinking how much -life would be worth to me reduced to this utilitarian standard of cow -and cabbage. Then I wonder if those women were to throw open the -blinds and doors and windows of the front of the house, and smooth -their hair a bit, and let one of the children pick some grasses and -wild flowers for the mantel, and then tell their respective Johns and -Toms to bring into the house the men they like to talk to at that -hour, so that all could be jolly together, whether it wouldn't change -things for the better. If that plan didn't work, do you know what I -would do? I would shoulder my baby, and trot down the road to the -nearest neighbor's, and let the old coffin of a house take care of -itself. I _wouldn't_ rust, anyhow. - -Now, it may be that these women wouldn't know how miserable they were, -if I didn't tell them of it. So much the worse, then. I only know that -if life were _all work_ to me, it should go hard but I would try to -catch a sunbeam now and then, if it were only that the children might -not be demoralized by growing up to look at me in the light of a -dray-horse; if it were only that my boys need not expect _their_ wives -to close their eyes and ears to the beauty and harmony which God had -scattered so lavishly about them. Because there are rocks, shall there -be no roses? Because there is dust, shall there be no dew? - -Do you do well, my sisters, to make your houses so gloomy that your -husbands would rather roost outside upon the stone fences, than stay -in them? Don't _have_ a "best carpet;" don't _have_ a "best sofa." Let -in the sun, and the birds, and the children, though it involve bare -floors and wooden chairs, and the total banishment of General -Washington and that best looking-glass. _Eat_ in your "best parlor," -and laugh in it; don't save it up to be laid out in! Try it now, and -see if life isn't a different thing to you all. As to your "work," a -great deal of it is unnecessary. John and the children would be much -better without pies, cakes, and doughnuts. Make it your religion to -give them wholesome bread and meat, and then stop and take a little -breath. Nobody will thank you for turning yourself into a machine. -When you drop in your tracks, they will just shovel the earth over -you, and get Jerusha Ann Somebody to step into your shoes. They wont -cry a bit. You never stopped to say a word to them except "_get out of -my way_." To be sure, you were working hard for them all the while, -but that wont be remembered. So you just take a little comfort -yourself as you go along, and look after "No 1." Laugh more and darn -less; they will like you twice as well. If there is more work than you -can consistently do, _don't do it_. Sometimes there is a little -blossom of a daughter in a family who makes everything bright with her -finger-tips; if there is none in yours, do _you_ be that blossom. -Don't, even for John, let your children remember home as a -charnel-house, and you as its female sexton. - - - - -_WHY WEAR MOURNING?_ - - -I wish that a few sensible, intelligent, _wealthy_ people would cease -draping and festooning themselves like engine-houses, when a death -occurs in the family. I use word "_wealthy_" advisedly; because it is -only that class who can really effect a reformation, for the reason -that _they_ will not be supposed unable "to pay a proper respect," as -the phrase runs, to the deceased. Proper respect! Do yards of crape -and bombazine never express the opposite emotion? Is real -heart-breaking grief to be gauged by the width of a hem, or the length -or thickness of a veil? Have not many a widow and orphan woke up, the -morning after a funeral, to find the little left by the deceased, -expended in funereal carriages, for people who would not lift a -helping finger if it would keep them out of the almshouse? We all know -that, or if we don't, we may wake up to the fact, some future day, -when the sunshine of prosperity is clouded over. That point disposed -of, it must also be remembered that a black dress now is hardly -"mourning;" since that color is so fashionable for street and home, -and even festive wear, that it is hard to distinguish the lady who -affects "all black," because "it is so stylish," from a bereaved -person. Another objection to "mourning" is, that it is the most -expensive dress that can be worn, because most easily spoiled by rain, -or dampness, or dust; and as "proper respect for the deceased" -requires such voluminous folds of it, and so often renewed to be -presentable, or else many changes of mourning to keep the "best suit" -up to the proper grief requirement, that the tax on a limited purse -may be easily calculated. - -Said a lady to me one day, "This heavy crape-vail, over my face and -down to my knees, keeps out the air, and gives me a constant -sick-headache."--"Why, then, wear it?" asked I.--"Because it wouldn't -be _decent_ to omit it," she replied. This remark, of course, requires -no comment. - -Then, again, the little children--death must be made as horrible as -possible to _them_ too, at the biding of custom! They must be swathed -in sackcloth although only two or three years of sunshine have put the -golden gleam in their hair. Is it not enough that papa or mamma, or -sister or brother, may never answer again when their bird-like voices -call them! Is it Christian or even humane, so to surround them with -gloom that "death" shall be a never-ceasing nightmare? I never see a -little creature so habited, that I do not long to hang a garland of -roses about its neck, and point to the blue heavens as an emblem of -that serene rest which has come to the sleeper. - -But you may ask, "Would you give _no_ sign, _no_ token that the -footprints of the Destroyer are over your threshold?" Yes, the same -that is used by military men when their chief has departed--a crape -upon the arm. This simple token--no more; since, as I say, multiplied -bombazine and crape do _not_ always express either grief or respect; -since they often represent the contrary, and mostly an expense which -can ill be borne by the survivors even when grief is sincere; and -since this already recognized military badge of bereavement answers -all the purpose--why not? - -The white ribbon tied upon the door-handle, with rosebuds attached, -when the baby's lids are forever closed--oh! that is beautiful. There -are, and must be, breaking hearts inside that door; but I know by -experience that the moment will surely come, after nature shall have -had its saving flow of tears, when, in the sense of perfect peace, and -safety for the little song-bird, now far above the clouds of earth, -they will forget themselves and remember only that. - -Then away with all these heathenish insignia; they certainly stand no -more for grief or respect than a flashing diamond on the neck or -finger, denotes wealth or social position, or even respectability. -Above all, away with this bugaboo nightmare of little children, who -will have enough, God knows, to contend with, as they grow older, -without prematurely draping with the blackness of darkness, the -entrance to a portal through which they are certainly destined to -pass, and which the light of faith in their maturer years may gild, as -the shining gate to the Celestial City. - - - - -"_DELIGHTFUL MEN._" - - -Isn't he a delightful man? This question was addressed to me by a lady -in company concerning a gentleman who had rendered himself during the -evening, peculiarly agreeable. Before I answer that question, I said, -I would like to see him at home. I would like to know if, when he jars -his wife's feelings, he says, "Beg pardon" as willingly and promptly -as when he stepped upon yonder lady's dress. I would like to know if, -when he comes home at night, he has some pleasant little things to -say, such as he has scattered about so lavishly since he entered this -room this evening; and whether if the badly cooked dish, which he -gallantly declared to the hostess at the table, "could not have been -improved," would have found a similar verdict on his own table, and to -his own wife. _That is the test._ I am sorry to say that some of the -most agreeable society-men, who could, by no possibility, be guilty of -a rudeness abroad, could never be suspected in their own homes of ever -doing anything else. The man who will invariably meet other ladies -with "How very well you are looking!" will often never, from one day -to another, take notice of his own wife's appearance, or, if so, only -to find fault. How bright that home would be to his wife with one -half the courtesy and toleration he invariably shows to strangers. -"Allow me to differ"--he blandly remarks to an opponent with whom he -argues in company. "Pshaw! what do _you_ know about it?" he says at -his own fireside and to his wife. Children are "angels" when they -belong to his neighbors; his own are sent out of the room whenever he -enters it, or receive so little recognition that they are glad to -leave. "Permit me," says the gallant male _vis-a-vis_ in the omnibus -or car, as he takes your fare; while _his_ wife often hands up her own -fare, even with her husband by her side. No wonder she is not "looking -well" when she sees politeness is for every place but for -home-consumption. - -"Oh, how men miss it in disregarding these little matters," said a -sad-eyed wife to me one day. And she said truly; for these little -kindnesses are like a breath of fresh air from an open window in a -stifled room; we lift our drooping heads and breathe again! "Little!" -did I say! _Can_ that be little which makes or mars the happiness of a -human being? A man says a rough, rude word, or neglects the golden -opportunity to say a kind one, and goes his selfish way and thinks it -of no account. Then he marvels when he comes back,--in sublime -forgetfulness of the past,--that the familiar eye does not brighten at -his coming, or the familiar tongue voice a welcome. Then, on inquiry, -if he is told of the rough word, he says: "O-o-h! _that's_ it--is it? -Now it isn't possible that you gave _that_ a second thought? Why, _I_ -forgot all about it!" as if this last were really a palliation and a -merit. - -It would be ludicrous, this masculine obtuseness, were it not for the -tragic consequences--were it not for the loving hearts that are -chilled--the homes that are darkened--the lives that are blighted--and -the dew and promise of the morning that are so needlessly turned into -sombre night. - -"Little things!" There _are_ no little things. "Little things," so -called, are the hinges of the universe. They are happiness, or misery; -they are poverty, or riches; they are prosperity or adversity; they -are life, or death. Not a human being of us all, can afford to despise -"the day of _small_ things." - -Yes, husbands, _be cheerful at home_. I daresay, sir, _your_ Bible may -belong to an expurgated edition; but this sentiment is in mine. I have -unfortunately loaned it to a neighbor, so that I cannot at this minute -point to the exact chapter, but that's neither here nor there. - -In every "Guide for Wives" I find "cheerfulness" the first article set -down in the creed; with no margin left for crying babies, or sleepless -nights, or incompetent "help," or any of the small miseries which men -wave off with their hands as "not worth minding, my dear!" So when the -time comes for John's return from the shop or office, they begin the -cheerful dodge, just as they are bid, by the _single_ men and women, -who usually write these "Guides for Wives." They hurry to wash the -children's faces, or to have them washed, and stagger round, though -they may not have had a breath of fresh air for a week, to make things -"cheerful" for John. John's beef and vegetables and dessert are all -right. He accepts them, and eats them. Then he lies down on the sofa -to digest them, which he does silently--cow-fashion. The children, one -by one, are sent to bed. Now, does it occur to John that he might try -_his_ hand at a little "cheerfulness"? Not a bit. He asks his wife, -coolly, if there's anything in the evening paper. - -She is so tired of the house and its cares, which have cobwebbed her -all over till she is half smothered, soul and body, that this question -seems the cruelest one that could be put, in her nervous condition. -She _ought_ to answer as he does, when she asks him what is in the -_morning_ paper, the while she is feeding Tommy--_his_ Tommy as well -as hers: "Read it, my dear; it is full of interest!" - -Instead, she takes up the evening paper wearily; and though the -tell-tale, exhausted tones of her voice as she reads, are sufficiently -suggestive of her inability for reading aloud, yet he graciously -listens well pleased, and goes to sleep just as she gets down to the -advertisements, which is a good place! - -Now that woman _ought_ just then, quietly to put on her bonnet and -shawl, and run into one of the neighbors', and stay till _she_ has got -a little "cheerfulness;" but the "Guide to Wives" insists that, -instead, she sit down and look at her John, so that no unlucky noise -may disturb his slumber; and half the wives do it too, and that's the -way they make, and perpetuate, these very Johns. - -The way men nurse up _their_ frail bodies is curious to witness, in -contrast with the little care they take of their wives. Now it never -occurs to most wives that being "tired," is an excuse for not doing -anything that, half dead, they are drummed up to do. Now there's just -where I blame them. If they wait for their Johns to _see_ it, or to -_say_ it, they may wait till the millennium. There's no need of a -fight about it either. _He_ wants to lie there and be read to. -Well--let him lie there; but don't you read to him, or talk to him -either, when you feel that way. If he is so stupid or indifferent, as -not to see that you can't begin another day of worry like that, -without a reprieve of some kind, bid him a pleasant good-evening, and -go to some pleasant neighbor's, as he would do, if he felt like it, -for the same reason--as he _did_ do the evening before, without -consulting your preference or tiredness. - -Now this may sound vixenish, but it is simply _justice_; and it is -time women learned that, as mothers of families, it is just as much -their duty to consult their physical needs, as it is for the fathers -of families to consult theirs, and more too, since the nervous -organization of women is more delicate, and the pettiness of their -household cares more exhaustive and wearing, than a man's can possibly -be; and this I will insist on, spite of Todd and Bushnell, and every -clerical pussy-cat who ever mewed "Let us have peace!" Peace, reverend -sirs, is of no sex. _We_ like it too; but too dear a price may be -paid even for "peace." - -Now I know there are instances, for I have seen them, in which the -husband is the only cheerful element in the house--when his step, his -countenance, like the sunrise, irradiates and warms every nook and -corner. But ah! how rare is this! I know too that cheerfulness is -greatly a thing of temperament; but I also know, that it is just as -much a man's duty to cultivate it by reading to his wife, and -conversing with his wife, as it is hers to amuse and cheer him when -the day's cares are over. And in this regard I must say that men, as a -general thing, are disgustingly selfish. Absorbing, but never giving -out--accepting, but seldom returning. It is for women to assert their -right to fresh air, to relaxation, to relief from care, whenever the -physical system breaks down, just as men always do; for the -Johns seldom wake up to it till a coffin is ordered--and -pocket-handkerchiefs are too late! - -And, speaking of that, nothing is more comical to me, in my -journeyings to and fro in the earth, than the blundering way in which -most men legislate their domestic affairs. Mr. Jones, for instance, is -attracted to a delicate, timid, nervous little lady, and moves heaven -and earth, and upsets several families who have a special objection to -her becoming Mrs. Jones, in order to bring about this desirable -result. After an immense besieging outlay, he gets her. We will leave -a margin for the honeymoon. Then commences life in earnest. The -little wife stands aghast to find that her husband's whole aim, is to -transform her into the direct opposite to that which he formerly -admired. In short, that to retain his love and respect, she must make -herself, by some process or other only known to herself, entirely -over. For instance, she is so constituted that the sight of blood has -always given her a deadly faintness, and she never was able to assist, -in any emergency or accident, where physicial pain was involved. Now -this is not an affectation with her--she _really can not_ do it. Now -Mr. Jones, with masculine acumen, immediately sets in motion a series -of little tyrannies, to force what a lifetime could never bring about, -no more than it could change his wife's hair from jet to flaxen color. -Does their child break a leg, or arm, he insists, although other aid -is at hand, that she shall not only be present, but assist in the -dressing and binding up of the same, by way of eradicating and -overcoming what he calls a "folly." To this end he uses sarcasm, -ridicule, threats, every thing which he thinks the "head of the -family" is justified in using, to force this child-woman's nature, -which once had such fragile attractions for him, into an up-hill -course, in which it is impossible for it ever to go, with all the -tyranny he can bring to bear upon it; and thus he keeps on -trying,--year after year,--with an amount of persistence which should -entitle him to a lunatic's cell, and which is gradually preparing his -wife for one, through mortification and wounded affection. - -Again--a man is attracted to a woman of marked individuality of -character. He admires her decision and self-poise, her energy and -self-reliance, and stamps them, with one hand on his heart, with the -conjugal seal. Directly upon possession, that which seemed to him so -admirable conflicts with his opinions, wounds his self-love, and even -though gradually and properly expressed, seems to breathe defiance. -Now _this_ woman he, too, strives to _make over_. He disputes her -positions and opinions with acidity, because they differ from his own, -and therefore must be wrong. Perhaps he looks at her, and at them, -more through the eyes of impertinent outsiders who have nothing to do -with it, than through his own spectacles. Many a man will perpetrate a -great injustice in his own household, rather than bear the slightest -meddling imputation that he is not its master. So, year after year, -this fruitless effort goes on, to transform a full-grown tree to a -little sapling, capable of being bent in any and every direction, -according to the moulder's capricious whim or fancy, with not the -ghost of a result, so far as success is concerned. - -I might cite many other instances to illustrate the absurd manner in -which men persist in marring their own happiness; committing those -flagrant injustices of which women either die, and make no sign, or -break into what is called "_unwomanly_" rebellion, when their sense of -justice is outraged, by the _love_ which has proved weaker than -_pride_. - -It is pitiful to think how frequent are these life-mistakes, and more -pitiful still to think, that women themselves are responsible in a -great measure for them. Let parents see to it, especially let -_mothers_ see to it, that the little boy is to yield equally with his -sisters in their games and plays. Let the maxim, "Give it to your -_sister_," issue as often from your lips as "Give it to your -_brother_." Let the father say as often to his son, "Prepare to become -the excellent husband of some good woman," as the mother to her -daughter, "Prepare to be the worthy wife of some good man." In other -words, begin at the fireside. Remember that you are training that -little boy to make or mar the happiness of some woman, according as -you teach him self-government--justice--and the contrary. This is an -idea which even abused wives seldom think of. It might be well for -them, and some now happy girl, who may lose through that boy, heart -and hope in the future, did they do so. - - - - -_CHOOSING PRESENTS._ - - -"Which would you prefer," asked a friend of me,--"a pretty useless -present, or an ugly useful one?" I had to stop and think before -replying. I knew it was a trap sprung for my halting; so, woman-like, -I dodged my weak side by saying, "There is no necessity, as I see, for -either extreme." - -One of our first biographers has remarked of me, that if he brings -home an _ugly-looking_ book, and lays it upon the table, I very soon -transfer it to a less conspicuous locality. This may or may not be -true; meantime I am not going to blink the fact that I adore pretty -things. Butter tastes better to me from a dainty little dish. So do -vegetables. Nor, to compass this, does one need the purse of -Fortunatus. Pretty shapes in vases, pitchers, plates, and the like, -have commended themselves to me, though not of silver. In fact, since -the burglars relieved me of my silver while in the country last -summer, I resolutely set my face against any further invitations to -them in that shape. This is to certify that henceforth only plated -ware, but very _pretty_ plated ware, shall cross my threshold. - -But, not to digress, what a "mess" people generally make of holiday -presents! Some houses contain only silver soup-ladles, others a -superabundance of butter-knives. Some babies, again, have silver cups -enough so furnish all their descendants, be they more or less. The -most harrowing present I know of is a "picture annual," all over gilt, -with wide margins inside, and with common-sense at a discount. It is a -type of a pretty mouth from whence issues only folly. Worsted cats and -dogs come next, in the shape of mats, chair-covers, etc. Now a dozen -of handkerchiefs or gloves, may be both pretty and sensible as a -present. So is a flower-stand, without which, in my opinion, no parlor -is furnished, how plentifully soever satin and gilt may abound. I am -frivolous enough to like rings, brooches, ear-rings, and bracelets, of -lovely, but above all, _odd_ forms and designs, if worn at the proper -time and place. But, dear! dear! I shouldn't make a good Quaker, for a -bit of scarlet somewhere in my room, is quite necessary to my peace of -mind. I look at that elaborate little bird-house for sparrows, -fronting the Quaker meeting-house, and I think I see a symptom of the -coming millennium for Quakers. I frankly own to exchanging a white -syrup-pitcher the other day, in favor of a white one with a scarlet -handle. I like these little touches of color to a degree, that, if -Heaven depended on their absence, might possibly peril my chances of -Paradise. - -Now I am not apologizing for this--not a bit! I am only sorry -for those of you who trudge along whether from choice or -necessity--through life's dusty highway, without stopping to notice, -or to cull, the flowers hidden in its hedge-rows, and place them as -you go, in your hair, or in your bosom. - -Pretty things are humanizing. I wish every work-room could have its -flowers and its pictures. _My_ God don't turn His back on either. Even -in the dull old yard of a tenement house, He sends up through the -chinks tiny blades of grass and dandelion, and chickweed blossoms. And -does not the pure white snow come sifting down over the garbage-heaps -and ash-barrels before the door of poverty which man, less merciful, -would doom to have all the year round before their disgusted vision? - -Meantime, let us hope that "the minister's" holiday present may be a -pair of boxing-gloves instead of a hymn-book, of which latter he has a -surfeit. As to his wife--for goodness' sake, send her the same thing -you would, were she the wife of a layman. And if you order her a cake, -don't surmount it with a cross, of which ministers' wives have already -too many in their parishioners. Give an editor a new subscriber and -you can't miss it. Send a lawyer no bones to pick, unless--well -covered with meat! And don't make a _pup_ of your husband by giving -him a velvet dressing-gown. And as to you, sir, don't pick out for -_your_ wife just what your friend Jenkins does for _his_; because, -though men are all alike, and cigars are always acceptable to them, -yet a man can never be certain whether his wife, on the receipt of a -present from her husband, will box his ears, or fall to kissing him; -and since Variety is the god of most men, I suppose this is all right. - -It must be owned, that of all perplexing things on earth, the greatest -is the perplexity of choosing a present. After you have considered, -first your purse; then the multifarious demands upon it; then the age, -desires, and taste of the recipient--comes the weary tramp in hot, -crowded stores for the desired article; comes the known incivility of -_most_ women bent on shopping errands, to their fellow-women; of -addressing the clerk, upon whom you, as first-comer, have a prior -claim, or even drawing from your and his fingers the very article you -have under distracted consideration. Of course I don't mean _you_, my -dear; didn't I say _most_ women? You will always find that I leave a -door of escape open, before I insinuate that my sex are not all -seraphs. Well--you make your purchase, and perspire in your furs, -while "cash" performs his gymnastics through feminine feet and hoops, -to get it _parcelled_ and return your change. But, alas! this is only -one present, and it has taken an entire morning to get it, and when -you get home Aunt Jemima whispers confidentially "that she overheard -John say that _he_ had bought that very article for the same person -for whom yours was intended;" and, what is worse, you can't transfer -it, because there is no other member of the family for whom it would -be suitable. You wonder if it wouldn't do to enclose so many dollars -to each member of the family, and let them make their own selection. -Sentiment would have to "go under," of course; but don't it when a -recipient wonders "how much you paid for your gift"? Time was, when a -present was acceptable, or on the contrary, according to the love -which prompted it, and not according to the value of the gift. Now, -young ladies expect diamonds, and pearls, and rubies, and quite turn -up their pretty noses at a book, or a work-box, or a writing-desk. -What with "golden weddings" and "silver weddings," and other bids for -gold and silver in various shapes, what with the bugbear word "mean" -in such connection, bankruptcy, or an inglorious exit, is the only -alternative to many. I have been some time coming to my moral, which -is this: that the "present" system is, to use a slang expression, "run -into the ground." I except the present a husband gives his wife, for -whom nothing of course is too good, or too tasteful, or too costly; -and who can, while receiving it, ask him to give her a hundred dollars -or so, to go out and _buy him one_! Also, in all heartiness, and -without joking, I except the little children, whose lovely dream of -Santa Claus vanishes with the flossy, golden-tipped curls of babyhood. -Pile up for them the dolls, and tops, and whistles, and wagons, and -kaleidoscopes, and velocipedes, that they may always when old age -seats them in the chimney-corner have this bright spot to look back -upon, over the graves of buried hopes and hearts, which could not else -bear thinking of. - - - - -_A BID FOR AN EDITORSHIP._ - - -I think I should like to be an editor, if somebody would do all the -disagreeable, hard work for me, and leave me only the fancy touches. I -don't know how profound my political articles would be, but they would -be _mine_. I think my book reviews would be pleasant reading, at least -to everybody but some of the authors. I should have a high railing -round my editorial desk, and "through the lattice" microscopically and -leisurely regard the row of expectant men waiting outside for a -hearing. I should not need a spittoon in my office. Nobody should -contribute to my paper who smoked, or chewed, or snuffed tobacco; that -would diminish my contributors' list about right. I should discard -Webster and Walker, and inaugurate a dictionary of my own. I should -allow anybody who felt inclined to send me samples of big strawberries -and peaches, and bunches of flowers; and I should get a fine library, -free gratis, out of the books sent me to review. As to grinding the -axes of the givers in return, why that, of course, should always be -left to the option of the editor. Before I commenced an editor's life, -I should secure money enough in some way to be able to snap my -fingers in the face of that grim ogre, "Stop my Paper!" I tell you I -_wouldn't_ stop it. It is a free country. I'd keep on sending it to -him. I'd always have something in every number about him, so that he -couldn't do without having it, how much soever he might want to. - -Then you should see my desk. It should be dusted once a year, to show -editors what a desk _might_ be. My editorial chair shouldn't pivot; -there should be no shadow of turning about that. Gibraltar should be a -circumstance to it. The windows of my editorial den should be scraped -with a sharp knife occasionally, to take off sufficient dirt to enable -me to write legibly. I should keep my best bonnet in a bandbox under -my desk, for any sudden dress emergency, as do editors their -go-to-meetin' hat. Like them, too, I should have a small looking-glass -for--visitors! also a bottle of--"medicine" for--visitors! I don't -think I should need a safe, as the principles upon which my paper -would be conducted would render it unnecessary. My object would be to -amuse _myself_, and say just what came uppermost, not by any means to -please or edify my species. Now, I have examined all the papers that -cross my threshold, and I am very sure that I have hit on quite an -original idea. - -If it stormed badly on publication day, I wouldn't send the poor -devils in my employ out with my paper, just because my subscribers -fancied they wanted it. Let 'em wait. The first fair day they'd have -it, of course. In the meantime, the printer's devil, and the -compositors, and the rest of 'em, could play chequers till the sky -cleared up. - -If anybody sued me for libel, I'd--I'd whine out, "Aint you -ashamed to annoy a female? Why don't you strike one of your -own size?" I should insist on being treated with the deference -due to a woman, though in all respects I should demand the -untrammeled-seven-leagued-boots-freedom of a man. My object would be -to hit everybody smack between the eyes, when I felt like it; and when -I saw brutal retribution coming, to throw my silk apron over my head -and whimper. - -I have not yet decided upon the title of my paper. Children are not -generally baptized until after they are born. Nor do I know who will -stand sponsor. All that is in the misty future. As to the price, I -should nail up a cash-box at the foot of the stairs, and people could -drop in whatever they liked. I should, by that means, not only show my -unshaken confidence in human nature, but also learn in what estimation -the general public held my services. There's nothing so dear to my -heart as spontaneity. - - - - -_A SERMON TO PLYMOUTH PULPIT._ - - -O Mr. Beecher! that you should recommend "candy," or "sugar plums," it -is all the same, for the youngsters. That _you_ should be quoted -through the length and breadth of the land as having done so, to the -delight of these youngsters, and the candy-merchants, and the -dentists, and the doctors generally! To be _candid_, I am ashamed of -you. - -Do you suppose that you are the only grandparent in the land? The only -loving, the only proud grandparent? I am a grandparent. I can love as -hard as you can. I can show just as bewildering a grandchild as you -can. It is just as hard for me to say No to that grandchild as it is -for you to say No to yours; but--excuse me--_I_ can do it. She is five -years old, but never touches candy. When she was three, a lady in an -omnibus gave her a red and white peppermint stick, and she turned to -me and asked "if it were not a pretty _toy_?" She knows now that candy -is to eat; but when it is given her, whether in my presence or not, -she says, "I am not allowed to eat candy." Meantime, she loves -beefsteak, she loves potatoes, she drinks milk and eats bread, with a -relish that candy-fed children never know. Either you are very right, -or I am very wrong. You see I am touchy on this subject, having worn -out several pens and distributed much ink in the crusade against it; -and here _you_, in the _Ledger_, right under my very nose, with one -frisk of your magic pen, cover me with indelible ignominy! - -"Mr. _Beecher_ says children should have candy;" and, what is more, he -thinks they should be _bought_ to be good by it! Oh, fie! - -Well, now, I reply: Mr. Beecher is a _man_. If his grandchild has the -stomach-ache, it is the _women_ of the family who will soothe it, and -bear its cries and its wakeful nights. If the little teeth prematurely -decay and ache, it is _the women_ who will accompany it to the -dentist's for the heart-rending wrench of cold iron. Mr. Beecher, in -short, decided this candy question from a _man's_ standpoint. He took -the popular side of the question with the children, who will always -shout hosanna to him for the same. But, my dear sir, the mothers who, -going home after shopping through Broadway, stop each day for the -poisonous parcel of sweets for Johnny and Susy, need restraint, not -encouragement, from you. They "can't imagine what ails Susy or Johnny, -to be so fretful" after eating it. Of course they never for a moment -suppose it to be candy. Didn't _they_ eat candy? And are they buried -yet? _I_ ask another question: What is the state of their teeth and -digestion to-day? What their powers of endurance as mothers? What, in -short, do they annually contribute to enable the fat family doctor to -ride in his carriage and live in Fifth Avenue? _That's_ what _I_ want -to know. - -O Mr. Beecher! well as I like you, I don't know what to say to you; -and what makes the case more aggravating, I know I shall keep on -liking you, whatever you say. That's the worst of it, and you know it. -And I am going to send this right off to the _Ledger_ office without a -second reading, lest I should qualify it, or trim it up, or make it -more respectful because you are "a minister." - -No, sir; I won't do it; I'll take example by a rampant female at a -public meeting the other night, who was scolding her husband for not -getting her a better seat. The distressed man laid his hand on her -arm, saying, "Hush! here's Fanny Fern; she will hear you." With -distended nostrils, that admirable woman replied, "I don't care for -six hundred Fanny Ferns!" - -My dear sir, your hand is too well accustomed to drawing a moral, for -me to presume to do it for you in this case! Adieu. - - - - -_FEMALE CLERKS._ - - -I have heard the objection made, by women, to female clerks in stores, -that they are less civil and attentive to their own sex than are male -clerks. I can only answer for myself, that I have never found any -reason to complain of them in this regard. In fact, I often wonder at -their patience and civility under very trying circumstances. I suppose -gallantry supplies the place of patience in male clerks. With so many -fresh, pretty, dimpled young faces to look at, a young man need not be -so very churlish, though he be not christened Job. - -Female clerks, it always seemed to me, must necessarily give out first -_in their feet_. That incessant standing, from morning to night, must -be more trying to them than to men. Many women, I know, can _walk_ -miles more easily than they could stand for half an hour. - -After making a purchase at a store quite late in the afternoon, I said -to the young girl who waited upon me,-- - -"How very tired you must get of us women, day after day!" - -"There is a great difference in them," she civilly replied. - -"But don't your feet ache sadly?" I asked. "That always seemed to me -the most trying part of it." - -She smiled as she pulled from under the seat, behind the counter, a -stool. - -"I thought that mitigation of weariness was against all regulations in -stores," I replied. - -"Not in _this_," was her answer. "Mr. ---- has always allowed his -female clerks to sit down when they were tired." - -Now, I was so pleased at this that I should like to give that -employer's name in full on this page. Here was a man who was wise -enough, and, above all, humane enough, to look on _their_ side of the -question. In doing so, of course, he did not overlook his own. In -doing so, he may also have known that there is a point when even a -woman's india-rubber patience, may be stretched too far. He may have -known that, when soul and body gave out, and a customer came in at -that trying moment, and the "last ounce" having been "laid on the -camel's back," the article inquired for _they_ "_did not keep_!" I say -he _might_ have been keen enough to have known this. _I_ prefer to -believe, that being a good, kind-hearted man, he tried to make service -for these young girls as light as he would wish it made for his own -young daughters, were they in that position. It is very certain that, -which way soever we look at it, it is an example which other employers -would do well to follow. - -It wont do the male clerks any harm to stand still; but I would be -very glad to have inaugurated this humane consideration for the young -women. I heard one of them tell a friend, the other day, that she had -to go directly to bed each evening on her return home, because her -feet and back ached so intolerably. - -Another suggestion: When employers have any occasion to reprove these -young women, if they would not mortify them by doing it in the -presence and in the hearing of customers, it would not only be more -pleasant for the latter, but would be more likely to have its proper -effect on the offender. I have sometimes heard such brutal things said -by employers to a blushing young girl, whose eyes filled with tears at -her helplessness to avert it, or to reply to it, that I never could -enter the store again, for fear of a repetition of the distressing -scene, although, so far as I personally was concerned, I had nothing -to complain of. - -The moral of all this is, that men in the family, and in the store -too, must look upon women in a different light from that to which they -are accustomed; before, to use a detestable phrase, but one which will -appeal most strongly to the majority, they "can get the most work out -of them." Physicians understand this. Every man is not a physician, -but he ought at least to know that backaches and headaches, and -heartaches too, are not confined to his own sex. - - - - -_BLUE MONDAY._ - - -"Blue Monday." By this name clergymen designate the day. Preaching as -they do, two sermons on the Sabbath, sometimes three--not to mention -Sunday-school exhortations, and possible funerals and marriages; of -course, I take no account of what may have happened, on Sunday, in -_their own_ families, no more than does the outside world. "The -minister" must, like a conductor of a railroad train, be "up to -time,"--hence "Blue Monday." Flesh and blood is flesh and blood, -although covered by a surplice or a cassock, and will get _tired_, -even in a good cause. Therefore the worn-out clergyman takes Monday -for a day of rest, for truly the Sabbath is none. He wanders about and -tries to give his brains a holiday--I say _tries_, because he often -misses it by wandering into the book-stores, or going to see a -publisher, instead of taking a drive, or a ramble in the fields, or -wooing nature, who never fails to lay a healing hand on her children. - -But Blue Monday does not belong exclusively to clergymen--oh, mother -of many children! as you can testify. True, you call it by another -name--"Washing-day,"--but it is all one, as far as exhaustion is its -characteristic. May the gods grant that on that day, when your -assistant in nursery-labor must often make up the deficiencies -involved in the terrible "family-wash," that no "plumber" or -"gas-fitter" send in his bill, to "rile" the good man of the house, to -exclaim against the "expenses of housekeeping," and send you into your -Babel of a nursery, with moist eyes and a heavy heart? It is poor -comfort, after you have cried it out, to try to pacify yourself by -saying, Well, he didn't _mean_ to say I'm sorry I ever was married, -yet it hurts me all the same; men are so thoughtless about such -things, and they go out after hurling such a poisoned arrow, and -forget, even if they ever knew it, that they have left it there to -rankle all day; and are quite astonished, and, perhaps, disgusted when -they come back that the good lady is not in excellent spirits, as they -are, and wonder what _she_, with a comfortable home, and nothing but -house matters to attend to, can find to worry her. Now, Mrs. Jones, -and Mrs. Jenkins, and Mrs. Smith, I'll lay a wager with each of you, -that your husbands have done that very thing, more times than you can -count, and on "Blue Monday" too. - -Ah! these "chance words," and the _thick_-skinned utterers of them. -Ah! the pity that the needle is no hindrance to the bitter thoughts -they bring; but that over the little torn apron or frock, the tears of -discouragement fall; the bitterest of all--that _he_ hasn't the least -idea "he has said anything," but is, very likely, inviting some fellow -that very minute to "take a drink" with him, or to smoke a dozen -cigars more or less, spite the "expense." My dears, wipe your eyes. If -you look for consistency in the male creature, you'll need a -microscope to find it. _Your_ expenses hurt him dreadfully; when I say -yours, I mean not only your _personal_ expenses, but the _house_ -expenses; for don't you see, had he staid a bachelor, he wouldn't have -had a plumber's bill to pay--and that's all your fault, because you -said "yes," when he got on his knees to implore you that he _might_ -have the felicity of paying your mutual plumber's bill. - -But _that_ was _then_, and _this_ is _now_! - -But isn't it perfectly delicious when those men come home, after -making some such blundering speech, the innocent way, after hanging up -their hats, that they'll walk into your presence, rubbing their hands, -and fetch up standing in the middle of the room with, "Why! _what's_ -the matter?" as they catch sight of their wives' lugubrious faces. I -tell you, Mr. Smith, and Mr. Jones, and Mr. Jenkins, whatsoever else -you do, _don't_ hold your _wives_ responsible for that which they are -no more to blame for than yourselves. Or if you will insist upon going -over their hearts with a cart-wheel, in this manner, have the -manliness when you come home, not to pooh-pooh the resentful tears you -have caused. - -The fact is, you are but blunderers as far as women are concerned. You -are elephants trying with your huge paws to pat humming-birds. Nine -out of every ten you demolish. Only physicians understand a woman; and -they don't always act up to the light they have. - -I would like to write a book on some kinds of legal murder; that is if -really _good_ people had not such moonshine notions about "delicacy." -This class are really the drags on the wheel of reform. I don't say -that sometimes it is not necessary, and even right, to drive -rough-shod right over them, if they will persist in walking in such a -narrow path; but one does it after all with regret, because they so -sincerely believe themselves to be in the "path of duty," as they call -it. Dear me! if there ever was a perverted phrase, this is one! It -makes me sick to hear it. - -What do I mean by "legal murders"? Well, if a woman is knocked on the -head with a flat-iron by her husband and killed, or if arsenic is -mixed with her food, or if a bullet is sent through her brain, the law -takes cognizance of it. But what of the cruel words that just as -surely kill, by constant repetition? What of the neglect? What of the -diseased children of a pure, healthy mother? What of the ten or -twelve, even healthy children, "who come," one after another, into the -weary arms of a really good woman, who yet never knows the meaning of -the word _rest_ till the coffin-lid shuts her in from all earthly care -and pain? Is the self-sacrifice and self-abnegation all to be on one -side? Is the "weaker" always to be the stronger in this regard? I -could write flaming words about "the inscrutable Providence which has -seen fit to remove our dear sister in her youth from the bosom of her -young family," as the funeral prayer phrases it. - -Providence did nothing of the sort. Poor Providence! It is astonishing -how busy people are making up bundles to lay on _His_ shoulders! I -imagine Providence meant that women, as well as men, should have a -right to their own lives. That they, equally with men, should rest -when they can go no further on the road without dying. That while the -father sits down to smoke the tobacco which "Providence" always seems -to furnish him with, although his family may not have bread to eat, -his wife should not stagger to her feet, and try to shoulder again her -family cares and expenses. - -Sometimes--nay, often--in view of all this, I rejoice in regarding the -serene Mrs. Calla-Lily. _She_ goes on just like a man. When she is -tired she lies down, and stays there till she is rested, and lets the -domestic world wag. If she don't feel like talking, she reads. If the -children are noisy, she sweetly and cunningly gets out of the way, on -that convenient male pretext, "putting a letter in the post-office." -She don't "smoke," but she has her little comforts all the same, and -at the right time, although the heavens should fall, and little -Tommy's shoes give out. She looks as sleek and smooth and fair as if -she were _really_ a lily; and everybody says, "What a delightful -person she is! and how bright and charming at all times!" - -Now this spectacle soothes me, after seeing the long procession of -bent, hollow-eyed, broken-spirited women who are _legally_ murdered. - -I exclaim, Good! and think of the old rhyme: - - "Look out for thyself, - And take care of thyself, - For nobody cares for thee." - -Of course this is very "unamiable" in me, but amiability is not the -only or the best quality in the world. I have seen people without a -particle of it, as the phrase is often understood, who were the -world's real saviours; and I have seen those human oysters, "amiable" -people, till sea-sickness was not a circumstance to the condition of -my mental and moral stomach. - -What a millennial world this would be, if every one were placed in the -niche for which he or she were best fitted. Now I know a capital -architect who was spoiled, when he became a minister. A dreadful mess -he makes of it working on the spiritual temple, as pastor of a country -church; whose worshippers each insist upon shaping every brick and -lath to their minds before he puts them together; and then they doubt -if his cement will do. Poor man!--I know of a merchant, helplessly -fastened to the yardstick, who should be an editor. I know of a -lawyer, who has _peace_ written all over him, and yet whose life is -one interminable fight. I know scores of bright, intelligent women, -alive to their finger-tips to everything progressive, good and noble, -whose lives, hedged in by custom and conservatism, remind me of that -suggestive picture in all our Broadway artist-windows, of the woman -with dripping hair and raiment, clinging to the fragment of rock -overhead, while the dark waters are surging round her feet. I know -little sensitive plants of children, who are no more understood by -those who are daily in their angel presence, than the Saviour was by -his crucifiers. Children who, mentally, morally, and physically, are -being tortured in their several Gethsemanes to the death; and I know -sweet and beautiful homes, where plenty, and intelligence, and -Christianity dwell, where no little child's laugh has ever been heard, -and no baby smile shall ever fill it with blessed sunshine. I know -coarse-natured men and women who curse the earth with their presence, -whose thoughts and lives are wholly base and ignoble, and yet who fill -high places; and I know heaven's own children--patient, toiling, -hopeful--sowing seeds which coarse, hurrying feet trample in the earth -as they go, little heeding the harvest which shall come after their -careless footsteps. - -_Life's discipline!_ That is all we can say of it. - -How any one with eyes to see all this, can doubt Immortality, and yet -bear their life from one day to another, I cannot tell. How persons -can say, in view of all these cross-purposes, I am satisfied with -_this_ life, and--had I my way--would never leave it, is indeed, a -mystery. It must be that the soul were left out of them. - -But this doleful talk wont do--will it? I should not dispel -illusions--should I? Now, that last is a question I can't settle: -whether it were better, if you see a friend crossing a lovely meadow, -rejoicing in the butterflies, and flowers, and lovely odors, to warn -him that there is a ditch between him and the road, into which he will -presently fall; or to let him enjoy himself while he can, and plump -into it, without anticipatory fears? What do you think? Anyhow, it is -no harm to _wish_ you all a happy summer. - - * * * * * - -Would it not be well for those who report the "dress" of ladies at a -public dinner to instruct themselves in advance as to _color_? One can -always tell whether a man or a woman is the reporter, by the blunders -of the former in mistaking blue for green, lilac for rose, and black -for pink. The world moves on, to be sure, in either case; but since -reporting must be done on such infinitesimal matters, it were better -it were well done. A lady who studiously avoids flashy apparel does -not care to read in the morning paper that "she appeared in a yellow -gown trimmed with pink." Perhaps the avoidance of the "flowing bowl" -by male reporters would conduce to greater correctness of millinery -statement. - - - - -_THE FLY IN THE OINTMENT._ - - -I do not know who writes the editorials on the "Woman Question" in its -various aspects, in our more prominent New York papers. I read them -from day to day, with real disappointment at their immaturity, their -flippancy, their total lack of manliness, and respect for, or -appreciation of, true womanhood. I say this in no spirit of -bitterness, but of real sorrow, that men stepping into the responsible -position they hold on those papers, have not better considered the -subjects of which they treat. That the writers are not known outside -the office, seems to me a very unmanly reason for their -misrepresentations. Every morning I ask, over my coffee, Have these -men mothers, sisters, wives, who so persistently misrepresent the -doings of self-respecting, self-supporting, intelligent women? Does -_Congress_ make no mistakes, that women should be expected, in their -pioneering, to have arrived at absolute perfection? Is there no heat, -in debate, on _its_ floor; no uncourteousness of language? Did not one -member, a short time since, call out there to have another member -"spanked"? Does the speaker's mallet never call to order, men selected -by their constituents, because supposed most intelligently to -represent the various local and other interests of the country? Does -the cut of a man's hair or coat injuriously or approbatively affect -his speech upon the floors? Does anybody care what color it is, or how -worn? I ask myself these questions when I read reports of -"strong-minded women's meetings," as they are sneeringly termed, which -consist mainly on the absence of a "long train" to their dresses, or -the presence of it; on the straightness of their hair, or the frizzing -of it; on the lack of ornamentation, or the redundance of it. This -mocking, Mephistopheles-dodging of the real questions at issue, behind -flimsy screens, seems to me not only most unworthy of these writers, -but most unworthy of, and prejudicial to, the prominent journals in -which they appear. - -If they think that women make such grave mistakes,--mistakes -prejudicial to the great interests they seek publicly to promote, the -great wrongs they seek to right,--would it not be kinder and more -manly, courteously to point them out, if so be that they themselves -know "a more excellent way"? Among all these women, are there _none_ -who are intelligent, intellectual, earnest, _and modest withal_? Have -the editors of these very papers in which these attacks appear, never -gladly employed just such, to lend grace, wit, and spirit to their own -columns, that they have only sneers and taunts for the cause they -espouse, and never a brave, kind, sympathetic recognition of their -philanthropic efforts? Is the cause so utterly Quixotic, espoused by -such women, who make their own homes bright with good cheer, -neatness, taste, and wholesome food, that they cannot gallantly extend -a manly hand after it and help them _over_ those bright thresholds, -and out into a world full of pain and misery, to lift the burden from -their less favored sisters? - -If they have the misfortune not to know such women among "the -strong-minded," would it not be well to seek them out, and better -inform themselves on the subjects upon which they daily write? - -The pioneer women who have bravely gone forward, and still keep -"marching on," undaunted in the face of this unmanly and ungenerous -dealing, have, doubtless, counted the cost, and will not be hindered -by it. I do not fear that; but I _do_ regret that any editor of a -prominent paper in New York should belittle it and himself, by -allowing any of his employés to keep up this boyish pop-gun firing -into the air. - -The other night, I attended a lecture, the proceeds of which were to -be devoted to a charitable institution for women. - -Now here was a man willing to do this for the particular women's -charity to be benefited by it, but he couldn't do it without stepping -out of his way to sneer at female suffrage and kindred movements which -are advocated and engineered by pure, intelligent, cultivated, earnest -women, or fixing his seal of approbation on this particular branch of -philanthropy, as the only remedy for all the ills that come of an -empty purse and a grieved heart. - -And just here is the fly in all these philanthropic ointments. Mix -your medicines in _my_ shop, or they will turn out poisons. That is -the spirit. Now I don't believe that one society, or one man or woman, -is the pivot on which this universe turns; and wishing well, as I do -every progressive, humanitarian movement, I deplore that its leaders -will not keep this fact in mind. I don't say that I wish _women_ would -keep it in mind, for I am a diligent reader of newspapers, and I see -men every day ignoring this broad foundation of civilization. I see -them making mouths at each other over a political bone or religious -fence; or I hear naughty names called, because one man grabbed a bit -of news for his paper, and scampered off with it to the dear public, -before his editorial neighbor got scent of it. Oh, women don't do all -the gossip and slander and back-biting in the world. They don't make -all the silly or stupid speeches either. Nor do they "rush into -print," any oftener than certain unquiet male spirits, "thirsting for -notoriety," as the phrase goes, who think they know when a colt is a -horse, and _vice versa_, better than any other man, because they -studied Greek at Oxford. Humbug is not always a female, but when -humbug _is_ a female, she generally hails from the top round of the -ladder! I am happy to say that, though I may be putting a stone into -the hands of mine adversary by the admission! - -Human nature might be improved, even in the year 1869. How glad the -pop-gun clergyman of a small parish is, when some clerical big-gun is -supposed to make a false move on the sacerdotal chequer-board! How he -rushes publicly to "deplore" that his "dear brother in Christ should -lay himself open to the world's censure in this manner"! His "dear -brother's" popularity and big salary were not the animus of _that_ -criticism--oh, no! Now I'm not one of those who believe that "a -minister" is certainly a saint, above his fellows; or that -Christianity is benefited by refusing to admit the shortcomings of -church-members. I once heard Rev. Dr. Hall preach a sermon on this -subject, every word of which was pure gold and ought to be printed in -pamphlet form and placed in the pews of all our churches. - -"Mix your medicines in my shop, or they will be poisons"! How sick I -am of it! There is so much elbow room in the world, why fight only for -one corner? But men, set us "weak women" such a terrible example, -fighting and squabbling about straws, and whining when they are -defeated. Now, if instead of wasting their time this way, or idling it -away as fashionable loungers,--I speak after the manner of the New -York--to women,--if instead of belonging to useless up-town clubs, -where with the heads of their canes in their mouths, they sit in the -day-time, measuring passing female ankles, or drinking and talking -male scandal, or betting;--if instead they would--each butter-fly son -of them--take some good, interesting book, and finding some tenement -house, sit down of an evening and amuse some laboring man, who would -else flee from the discomforts of such a place to the nearest -grog-shop, how noble would this male butterfly of Fifth Avenue then -appear! In fact, this particular form of benevolence commends itself -to me as the only one that could rescue him from the butterfly -existence of up-town clubs. - -A thought strikes me! As the "New York ----" remarks, when advising -women to teach sewing to poor girls, "but perhaps these female -butterflies of Fifth Avenue don't know themselves how to sew." Alas! -should these male butterflies of the Fifth Avenue club-houses not know -how to read, when they get to the tenement house of their poor -brother! - -Now, to conclude, I see nothing antagonistic to a sewing-machine in a -woman's vote, but the Editor of the New York ---- is always throwing a -blanket over a woman's head, for fear she will see a ballot-box. You -may make soup, my dear, graciously says he, for poor women; or flannel -shirts for very little paupers, if you'll promise not to burn your -fingers in politics. That never'll do, my dear! It is _not_ coarse for -you to scramble at a matinee for seats, and elbow and jostle, and push -men's hats awry--oh, no! that's legitimate--but to subject yourself to -this kind of thing at the ballot-box, would be to forfeit man's love, -and soil both your skirts and reputation. - - - - -_WOMAN'S MILLENNIUM._ - - -Hurrah for Massachusetts! Read this: - - "Chief Justice Bigelow, of Massachusetts, made short work with - a divorce case which came before him at Springfield a day or - two ago. It was an application of a wife for a divorce from her - husband, on the ground of extreme cruelty. It coming up in - testimony that the woman had been beaten and otherwise ill-used - by her husband, the Judge at once decided the case in her - favor, taking occasion to remark that in case of any violence - by a husband to the wife, he should not hear all the points - before deciding in favor of the latter. The woman might forgive - cruelty toward herself, but the court would not." - -Now _that's_ what I call a righteous decision. Let all the wives with -bruised shoulders, and arms, and backs, and eyes, (bruised _hearts_ -are too common to talk about!) emigrate forthwith to this enlightened -State. Here's a man who is _just_ to a woman. Think of the rarity of -the thing! Compliments, and flattery, and gifts we can all have, till -we get to be old women, and some of us afterwards; but _justice_, -Messieurs! ah! that's quite another thing. Female eyes have grown dim -looking for _that_, all through the ages. Men start up from their -tobacco-torpor nowadays and ask, angrily, what means this present -restlessness of American women? This wide and deep-spread discontent, -which heaves to and fro, developing itself in a thousand different -forms? _My_ grandmother was contented enough. _My_ aunt never looked -beyond her own family. Are you quite sure of the first, and does the -latter deserve praise or blame for the pin-measure view of the world -to which she, the God-appointed instructor and guide of future men and -women, chooses to limit herself? Has she a _right_ to launch them on -the turbulent ocean of life, with only one poor miserable broken oar -to paddle their way? Such women are not praiseworthy; no more than -they who, busying themselves in public affairs, leave their children -to "come up" as chance or accident dictates. Are you quite sure, too, -that because only lately this "wail of discontent" has reached your -ear, that it has not been stifled under thousands of tombstones? Ah, -well I remember when too young to know what life _meant for a woman_, -hearing one who I have since learned had suffered and forgiven much, -murmur to herself as she wearily laid her head upon her pillow, "God -be thanked for sleep and forgetfulness!" and yet not one who saw her -smiling face, or heard her cheerful voice, or was charmed with her -intelligent conversation, ever dreamed that she was not "a contented -wife," as the phrase runs. - -And just in this connection I would quote a remark which, for its -truth, should be inscribed on the _pipe_ (for there he would oftenest -meet it) of every man in the land. - -"Only so far as a man is happily _married to himself_ is he fit for -married life, and family life in general. Unless he has 'cleared -himself up,' as the Germans say, he can at best but enter into -ambiguous relations to another. When a man is discordant in himself, -he makes all that he comes in contact with discordant." - -Now, candidly I ask you, oughtn't that remark to be in the Holy -Scriptures? Perhaps you ask if the same is not true of women? I am not -such an idiot as to deny that, either; but what I marvel at is -this--that it should be such a perfectly natural and eminently -righteous thing for a _man_ to halloo to high heaven that _his_ mate -is not to his mind, after he has compassed heaven and earth to get -her, and such a crime for a woman to be "discontented and restless -under similar circumstances". - -Nevertheless, I think woman's millennium is to come out -of all this unquiet and chaos. Here's a remark made at a -royal-literary-fund-dinner in England,--as true as I live, in -_England_, and in London at that,--and by Charles Kingsley at -that,--in response to a toast: - -"As for imaginative literature," he said, "if the world continued to -go on as it was proceeding, _ladies_ must be called upon to fulfil -this duty. Where would they find among men such poets as Mrs. -Rossetti, Mrs. Jean Ingelow, or Miss A. Procter? Or who could write -such works of prose fiction as the authors of 'John Halifax' or -'Romola'? In former times _men_ only dealt with literature, but the -more delicate the weapon became, the more delicate were the hands -which wielded it. If he could give any advice to young men how they -might escape the trials and troubles that might beset their path in -the literary profession--how escape Whitecross Street prison and the -workhouse--it would be by marrying a literary lady, and setting -himself down to the humble and chivalrous duty of reviewing his wife's -books." - -The picture of that sublime bit of majesty, a _British husband_, -performing such a feat, is so impossible to contemplate, that I must -stop, that my readers and myself may take breath. - -I am inclined to believe that there are a great many kinds of women, -both in England and America. This idea seems to be lost sight of, by -the writers of both nations, who have lately undertaken to describe -the feminine element, under such titles as "the Girl of the Period," -or "The Woman of the Time;" presenting to our view monstrosities, -which no doubt exist, but which are no more to be taken specimens of -the whole, than is the Bearded Woman, or the Mammoth Fat Girl. - -New York, for instance, is not wholly given over to the feminine -devil. Angels walk our streets, discernible to eyes that _wish_ to -see. Noble, thoughtful, earnest women; sick of shams and pretence; -striving each so far as in her lies, to abate both, and to diminish -the amount of physical and moral suffering. Then, I never go into the -country for a few weeks' summer holiday, that I do not find -large-hearted, large-brained women, stowed away among the green -hills, in little cottages, which are glorified inside and outside by -their presence; women who, amid the press of house and garden work, -find time for mental culture; whose little book-shelves hold well-read -copies of our best authors. Women--sound physically, mentally, -morally; women, whom the _Man of the Period_, who most surely exists, -has never found. Now and then, some man, fit to be her mate, in his -rambles in the sweet summer time, is struck as I am by these gems -hidden amid the green hills, and appropriates them for his own. But -for the most part, the more sensible a man is, the bigger the fool he -marries. This is especially true of biographers! What a wrong, then, -to the great army of sensible, earnest women in either country to pick -out a butterfly as the national type. Because a few men in New York -and London and Paris wear corsets, and dye their whiskers and hair, -and pad out their hollow cheeks and shrunken calves, it does not -follow that Victor Hugo, and John Bright, and the great army of brave -men who won our late victory, are all popinjays. For every female fool -I will find you a male mate. So when the inventory of the former is -taken, the roll-call of the latter might as well be voiced. Are women -so "fond of gossip"? Pray, what is the staple of after-dinner -conversation when the wine comes on and the women go off? Do women -"lavish money on personal adornment"? How many men are there who would -be willing to tell on what, and on whom, their money was worse than -lavished? Do women "leave their nursery altogether to hirelings"? How -many corresponding men are there, whose own children under their own -roofs, are almost entire strangers to their club-frequenting fathers? -And yet what good, noble men are to be seen for the looking? Faithful -to their trusts, faithful to themselves, unmoved by the waves of folly -and sin that dash around them, as is the rock of Gibraltar. - -I claim that justice be done by these writers on both sides of the -water, to both sexes. Fools, like the poor, we shall have always with -us; but, thank God, the "just" man and the "just" woman "still live" -to redeem the race. Men worthy to be fathers, and large-brained women, -who do not even in this degenerate day, disdain to look well after -their own households. - - * * * * * - -It is but seldom that a child needs the rod, especially if taken from -the time it is able to understand language, and firmly yet kindly -treated, and given to know that No and Yes _mean_ No and Yes, without -any shadow of turning. It is a question, too, whether those who have -unfortunately _come up_, instead of being judiciously _brought up_, -are ever made better by harshness, under the name of discipline. - - - - -_ENGLISH NOTIONS ABOUT WOMEN._ - - -Our neighbors over the water, judging from an article in one of their -leading papers, seem to be greatly exercised at present on "The Woman -Question." The old model Englishwoman who sneezed exactly at the same -hour her great grandmother did, and sat down, and rose up, and went -out, and came in whenever her husband bade her,--and made no -objection, at the same time, to any irregularity either in his hours -or habits,--it seems, has disappeared. Instead, we have that -horror,--the English female-physician; the English female would-be -voter; in short, the English female who asserts her right to -individuality, in action and opinion, equally with her husband. - -John Bull sets down his mug of beer, and says that the thing is -monstrous. He says that he no longer can lounge off by himself, as in -bachelor days, although he is a married--and, therefore, a more -important--member of society. He says that he is not allowed, as -formerly, to spend every evening with his bachelor cronies,--Tom, -Dick, and Harry. He says that his wife positively expects him to act -as if he were married. He says that, when he tells her decidedly that -he wont do this, that she pays no more attention to this refusal than -as if he hadn't made it; but quietly returns to the same point of -disputation the next day, and every day, and every month, and all -through the year, with a terrible and feline pertinacity. He says that -it is like the slow dropping of water on some sensitive part of the -frame; he says he don't like it, and don't know what to do about it. -He says, besides, that marriage is not at all favorable to largeness -of mind, or breadth of view, which is very obvious, in his own case, -in the remarks above quoted! He says that all she says and does "has -the stamp of Lilliput;" and that should she even have the right of -suffrage, she would barter away her vote for a new gown. He says -justice is a quality unknown to woman; which is very true, and I want -him to understand that is just what she is contending for. He says, to -make a long matter short, that when he married he expected to live -just exactly the same life that he did before, and that he finds he -can't; and, moreover, he says, with a sweeping wave of his John Bull -hand, that no husband was ever made more large-hearted, or tolerant, -or in any way benefited by marriage. - -Now if a man will marry, with such absurd ideas of what marriage ought -to be, and if he will marry a _fool_, I advise him not to go whining -round the world about it: he deserves the consequences. But let him -not insist that _all_ women are fools, because he got on his knees to -obtain one. I will always maintain that there are twenty bad husbands -to one bad wife; and that, that one would seldom continue bad if her -husband were just and kind to her. As to marriage "narrowing a man's -mind," that which never had any breadth cannot be narrowed. And -history abundantly shows how wise in counsel, how judicious in -influence, how helpful in sympathy and co-operation have been many -such wives. - -Now it is often said that a wife, to a literary man, is only a -hindrance. Provided she is not a fool, it would pay him, in my -opinion, to give her a regular salary, if he could not obtain it -otherwise, to give him the _feminine side_ of every great question of -the day, as it comes up--which by the way, she does unconsciously, and -which has anything but a "narrowing" effect either on his mind or his -writings, whether he acknowledges it or not. - -It is no small thing to be able to toss her a book and say, "I want to -know what is in that book, but I haven't time to read it; run it over, -will you, and tell me what you think of it?"--or to get from her the -condensation of newspapers, magazines, and pamphlets, in the same way; -or translations; or to have her assistance in answering letters, -without prompting, when pressed for time; to ask her where such and -such a passage may be found in certain authors, which have escaped -_his_ memory. Is contact with such a woman narrowing? - -It is horrible for a man of sense to be yoked to a fool, and _vice -versa_. No one denies it. But the whole kernel of the woman matter is -just this: Men no longer are what they were. There _are_ no _young_ -men now. Before they have ceased to be young men, the majority of -them, by a total disregard of Nature's laws, have unfitted themselves -for contact with, and companionship and appreciation of, pure, _good_ -women. It is as if a baby should be fed from birth with highly-spiced -condiments; and then, at maturity, be expected to have a relish for -pure, wholesome food. The fault is _not_ in women, but in the men, who -bring to the healthful, simple, sweet pleasures of matrimony, diseased -minds and dilapidated bodies. - -It is perfectly amazing the quantity of insulting advice volunteered -in this day to women. Now here is an extract, I am happy to say, in -this instance, from an English journal; the land, _par excellence_, of -wife-beating, and kindred abominations in "high" and "low" life, in -which the wife is advised if she would "wind her husband around her -finger,"--though why that amusement is particularly desirable I fail -to see,--if she would do this, "she must carefully study the -cookery-book; so that his meals need not be monotonous." How many of -his children she must attend to, during this interesting perusal, and -while perfecting the results of such study, our writer does not state; -nor does he throw any light upon the question--whether, when this -delicate animal is gorged like the anaconda, he will, as does the -anaconda, go immediately into a state of stupor, and be comparatively -harmless until other re-enforcements are needed. - -Also he tells the wife that "opposition and contradiction always make -him furious; then he stamps and roars and becomes dangerous: she must -by all means avoid that." It is so strange, this Solomon says, "that -when a wife _knows_ that a certain line of conduct is sure to produce -this effect, she will do it, though victory is easy provided"--well, -in short, provided she allows him to stamp and roar and become -dangerous, like his son Tommy, when he can't have another stick of -candy, and whom he himself would severely punish, for imitating his -gentlemanly papa. - -Are there no lines of conduct a husband persistently pursues towards -his wife, though he "knows they are sure to wound and give offence?" -And would he think "stamping and roaring and being dangerous" any -excuse for a dislike of it? Is the man who sends his dear little child -for that which will intoxicate him, or takes that child to bar-rooms -and drinking-places to obtain it, never to be remonstrated with by the -mother, lest he should be "angry"? Is the man who allows his relatives -constantly to interfere with and slander his wife, who never write him -letters without containing sly insinuations, intended--howsoever they -may fail--to disturb conjugal and family harmony; who institute a -court of inquiry into family expenses, probable journeys, &c., -location of residence, and insist upon all these things being settled -according to _their_ means and standard, is this husband never to be -told that such interference is insufferable, "because he will be -angry"? - -Is there a husband living who would permit a wife's father or brother -to insist on managing his business affairs in such a clandestine, -down-cellar, surreptitious manner through the wife? If he preferred -going to spend the summer at one place rather than another, how would -he like that matter settled by a conclave of his wife's relatives, and -determined by _their_ probable locality? I do not say that the latter, -too, has not happened. In either case, it is a monstrous impertinence, -and to be resented. I might multiply other instances of abuse to -women, but these will suffice. - -_Let men, above all, ask themselves with regard to women--to -wives--this question--and answer it in a manly, honest manner, whether -it is condemnatory of their own "line of conduct" or the contrary: -Should I be willing to endure what I expect my wife to bear, were I a -woman and a wife?_ If not--is it just, or right, or manly, then, for -me to expect it of her? - -It is needless to say that this is the last question asked; and this -is the root of all the evil. This making by men a broad easy road of -license for themselves, while women are clogged, fettered, penned in, -worried, harassed and unjustly treated, till even they--"become -dangerous." And though the author above quoted seems to entertain no -such possibility, our lunatic asylums and tomb-stones, if they stated -the actual causes of insanity and death, might convince the most -skeptical. - - * * * * * - -There is a kind of sentimental preaching to which an audience is -sometimes treated, which is very repulsive to the hearty, sincere -worshipper. Preaching which is full of poetical quotations; preaching -where some of the words are clipped of their syllables, and others -_chewed_, so to speak, indefinitely. Egotistical, drawling preaching, -under which people go to sleep, or smile derisively, according to -their humor; but from which none come away with the good seed which -will spring up and bear fruit a hundred-fold. Essay preaching--walking -gingerly round duty, and flattering self-love; milk-and-water -preaching--colorless, flavorless, and thin. - - - - -_RAG-TAG AND BOB-TAIL FASHIONS._ - - -When I say that the street-dress of the majority of _respectable_ -women of New York today is disgusting, I but feebly express my -emotions. I say the _respectable_ women, and yet, save to those who -know them to be such, their appearance leaves a wide margin for doubt. -The clown at a circus wears not a more stunning or parti-colored -costume; in fact, his has the advantage of being sufficiently -"taut,"--to use a nautical phrase,--not to interfere with locomotion; -while theirs--what with disgusting humps upon their backs, and big -rosettes upon their sides and shoulders, and loops, and folds, and -buttons, and tassels, and clasps, and bows upon their skirts, and -striped satin petticoats, all too short to hide often clumsy -ankles,--and more colors and shades of colors heaped upon one poor -little fashion-ridden body than ever were gathered in one rainbow--and -all this worn without regard to temperature, or time, or place--I say -this presents a spectacle which is too disheartening even to be -comical. - -One cannot smile at the young girls who are, one day--Heaven help -them!--to be wives and mothers. _Wives and mothers!_ I say to myself, -as I see the throat and neck with only the protection of a gold -locket between itself and the cold autumnal winds. Wives and mothers! -I say, as I see them ruining their feet and throwing their ankles out -of shape, in the vain endeavor to walk on heels like corks, fastened -far into the middle of the soles of their boots; and those boots so -high upon the calf of the leg, and so tightly buttoned across it, that -circulation is stopped, and violent headaches follow. Wives and -mothers! I say, as I see the heating and burdensome panier tackled on -the most delicate portion of a woman's frame, to make still surer -confirmed invalidism. What fathers, husbands, brothers, lovers can be -thinking about, to be willing that the women they respect and love, -should appear in public, looking like women whom they despise, is a -marvel to me. Why they do not _say_ this to them, and _shame_ them -into a decent appearance--if their glasses cannot effect it--I do not -know. Oh, the relief it is to meet a _lady_, instead of a ballet-girl! -Oh, the relief it is to see a healthy, firm-stepping, rosy, -broad-chested, bright-eyed woman, clad simply and free from bunches -and tags! I turn to look at such an one with true respect, that she -has the good sense and courage and _good taste_ to appear on the -street in a dress befitting the street; leaving to those poor wretched -women whose business it is to advertise their persons, a free field -without competition. If I seem to speak harshly, it is because I feel -earnestly on this subject. I _had_ hoped that the women of 1868 would -have been worthy of the day in which they live. I had hoped that -_all_ their time would not have been spent in keeping up with the -chameleon changes of fashions too ugly, too absurd for toleration. It -is because I want them to _be_ something, to _do_ something higher and -nobler than a peacock might aim at, that I turn heart-sick away from -these infinitesimal fripperies that narrow the soul and purse, and -leave nothing in their wake but emptiness. Nor is it necessary, in -avoiding all this, that a woman should look "strong-minded," as the -bugbear-phrase goes. It is not necessary she should dress like her -grandmother, in order to look like a decent woman. It is not necessary -she should forswear ornamentation, because it were better and more -respectable to have it confined to festal and home occasions and less -to the public promenade. She is not driven to the alternative of -muffling herself like an omnibus driver in January, or catching -consumption with her throat protected only by a gold locket! - -Oh, how I wish that a bevy of young, handsome girls, of good social -position, would inaugurate a plain lady-like costume for street and -_church_ wear. I say young and handsome, because if an old woman does -this, the little chits toss their heads and say, "Oh! she has had -_her_ day, and don't care now--and we want ours." - -Now that's perfectly natural, and right too, that you should have your -youth; that you should, as girls say, "make the most of yourselves;" -but in doing so don't you think it would be well not to _lessen_ or -cheapen yourselves? and I submit, with all deference to your -dress-makers and mammas, that every one of you who appear in public in -the manner I have described, are doing this very thing--are defiling -womanhood, and are bringing it into derision and contempt, whether you -believe it or not. - - * * * * * - -Blessed be sleep! We are all young then; we are all happy. _Then_ our -dead are living. Then, the flowers bloom, though the snow may at that -moment be beating against our windows. Then, the ships that have been -wrecked are gaily sailing on the seas. Then houses are built and -furnished, and, above all, bills are paid. Then, editors have full -subscription lists and clergymen big salaries, and scribblers plenty -of ideas. Then, ladies have "something to wear," although they may not -have it on. Then, Sammy has his coveted velocipede, and Susy her big -doll, and Frank his boat, and Fanny a lover, and Grandpa has no -rheumatism, and Grandma has _not_ lost her spectacles. Blessed be -sleep! - - - - -_SOME HINTS TO EDITORS._ - - -What a pity when editors review a woman's book, that they so often -fall into the error of reviewing the _woman_ instead. For instance, -"she is young and attractive, and will probably before long find her -legitimate sphere in matrimony; or she is an old maid--what can she -know of life except through a distorted medium? Let her wait, if so -she be able, till some man is deluded into inviting her to change her -name. That appears to be her present need. Or she has the affectation -of writing over a _nom de plume_--and must, perforce, be a fool. Or -she _did_ write a preface to her book; or she _omitted_ writing a -preface to her book, as one might expect of a woman. Or we hear she is -a widow; and notoriety is probably her object in writing." - -I introduced this article by saying what a pity that editors in -reviewing a woman's book should so often only review the woman. -Perhaps I should have said, what a pity all editors are not -_gentlemen_. It is very easy to determine this question, if one keeps -the general run of editorial articles. Not that it does not sometimes -happen that, in the editor's necessary absence, some substitute may -get him into "hot water;" or, as a foreigner who once tried to use -this expression, called it "_dirty water_,"--but taking the general -tone of editorial articles, from one day or one week to another, the -want of courtesy and self-respect, or the lack of it, are patent to -the intelligent reader. - -It is a pity that an editor should not be a gentleman, _for his own -sake_, and because no position can be more honorable than his, if he -choose to make it so, nor more influential for good or evil. Think of -the multitude he addresses--the thinking men and women who pass his -columns under critical review. Surely, this is a career not to be -lightly esteemed, not to be slurred over bunglingly. Surely, this -messenger crossing the sacred threshold of home, might well step -carefully, reverentially, discreetly, and discuss fairly, justly, -all topics especially connected with home duties and home -responsibilities. Surely, his advertising list, if he have one, should -be a _clean_ one, such as any frank-browed, hitherto innocent young -boy, might read. Surely, the maiden, whose horizon is not bounded by a -strip of ribbon or silk, or even the marriage altar; should have the -great questions of the day, relating to the future of her sex, not -brushed aside with a contemptuous sniff, or treated with flippant -ridicule, because this is the shortest and easiest way of disposing of -that which requires thought and fair deliberation. - -It seems so strange to me, who hold in such exalted estimation an -editor's calling, that one should ever be found willing to belittle -it; it is also a great comfort to know that there are those who hold -this their position, for honor and interest second to none, and in -this light conscientiously conduct their paper, so far as their -strength and means allow. - -This would be a very stupid world, I grant, if individuality were not -allowed in the editorial chair as well as elsewhere; but leaving a -wide margin for this, is there not still room in many newspapers for -more justice, manliness, courtesy, and, above all, respectful mention -of woman, even though the exigencies of her life may compel her to -address the public. - -There is a practice of certain penny-a-liners which cannot be too -severely reprehended. We do not refer to their personal descriptions -of public persons, male and female, which are often wholly false--they -having mistaken some one else for the individual they wished to -describe; and if certain of the identity, generally "doing" the -description in the worst possible taste. All this is bad enough; but -we refer now to cases where a forgery or a murder is committed. Not -contented with working up these cases in all their harrowing and often -disgusting details, your barren penny-a-liner, catching at the least -straw of an idea to secure another penny for another line, states that -the criminal in question is son of the Hon. Samuel So-and-so, nephew -of Mr. So-and-so, a gentlemen well known in the fashionable world, and -brother of the beautiful Miss Smith who was so much admired in society -last winter. Now, to say that a man who would recklessly carry -distress to innocent persons, already sufficiently crushed by their -calamity, should be horse-whipped, is a mild way of putting it. No -dictionary could do such cold-blooded atrocity justice. Of course such -items help sell a paper; but, alas, how low must be that editor's -standard of journalism who permits his employés to pander to so -corrupt and ghoul-like a taste! I think, could he sometimes look in -upon the sorrowing family circle, which he has assisted to drag into -this kennel publicity, or if he could suffer in his own family that -which he so remorselessly deals out to another, he might realize the -deadly nature of these poisoned arrows which he aims at his neighbor's -heart. - -Again, because the victims so assailed have not the prefix of "Hon." -to their names, and have no "fashionable and beautiful sister," or -"prominent and wealthy uncle," shall we therefore excuse this cowardly -attack upon their poor hearths and homes? Let any one run over certain -police reports of the day, if he would see how misery and misfortune -are treated as a jest, by these small, brainless wits hard up for a -subject. One's blood boils, that the human being exists who could -regard such things from the standpoint of a circus clown. In fact, a -circus clown is respectable in comparison, since his jests are -legitimate and harmless. - -These gentry never did me any personal harm. - -True, black hair has often been awarded me, instead of light, by these -scribblers, "who were on very intimate terms with me," and I have -measured six feet in height, instead of four and a half; and I have -"a stylish carriage and footmen," which I fervently wish the -international copyright law would drive up to my door, bating the -usual vulgar livery; also, half the things which they have asserted I -"waste my earnings upon" would be agreeable to possess, and of course -I grieve to take them down a single peg on all these statements; but -lying did not die with the serpent in Eden, for his slimy trail is all -through newspaperdom, save and except the ---- now don't you wish you -knew? - -No humane or decent person, can read the police reports in some of the -papers in New York, without feeling unutterable loathing and contempt -for the writers. Is it not enough that these poor wretches, in their -downward course, have lost almost the faintest impress of immortality, -that one who at least bears the semblance of manhood, can stand over -them and manufacture coarse jibes by the yard, to be perused by young -people at the family hearth-stone? It is a disgrace to our -civilization, and to the paper in whose columns they appear. - -How would these writers like it, if the sister who once shared their -cradle--having, in some mad moment, thrown away all in life that is -pure and sweet to women--should she be brought up among that wretched -crowd for sentence, how would he like it, to have her spoken of in -this manner?-- - -"Miss Josephine Jones, a frail sister, with a bruised nose that once -had been prettier, and a bonnet that did _not_ originate in Paris, was -charged with getting drunk, and tearing the hair from Miss Alice -Carr's red head. The hair was produced in court, but for some -inexplicable reason the clerk of the court seemed disinclined to touch -it. Miss Josephine was found guilty, and gathering up the remnant of a -greasy silk gown in her fair hand, she walked gracefully forth, to be -provided with lodgings and grub, free of expense, on Blackwell's -Island, where so many of her sex rusticate for the pleasant winter -months." - -Or, suppose he had a young brother, who had recklessly thrown off home -influences, and, before reaching maturity, was brought into court as a -common drunkard, how would he relish, having him spoken of in this -manner?-- - -"An infant of twenty-one, named Harry Dexter, with blear eyes, and -torn hat slouched over his swollen mug, was next called up. His boots -and the blacking-brush seemed not to have had a very intimate -acquaintance of late, and the laundress had evidently, for some cause -or other, neglected his linen. His youthful hands also would have been -improved by a dexterous use of soap and water. Young Harry had no -occasion to inquire the way to his future boarding house, having often -ridden down on previous occasions in that accommodating omnibus called -the Black Maria, to take a sail at the city's expense to Pauper's -Island." - -We might multiply instances of this heartless and disgusting way of -speaking of the faults and vices of our fellow-creatures, but this -specimen will suffice to show the spirit in which they are penned. -Nor is it any excuse, that many of the friends of these wretched -beings can neither read or write, nor by any possibility ever be -wounded by these so-called _jocular_ allusions. I insist that the -effect on the young people of our community is demoralizing. God knows -that in the crowded city, with its whirling life, we have hard work -enough to avoid jostling aside the urgent claims of the erring and -unfortunate around us, without such help as this from the devil. It is -bad enough "to pass by on the other side" when Christian charity -challenges pity and help; but what must that man be made of, who would -stand over a crushed fellow-being, and, for a few dollars, make merry -with his misery? Surely, it seems to me, that the editors of the -papers where these disgraceful items appear, cannot be aware how -disgusting they have become, to those who would else gladly welcome -their daily issues in the family. - - * * * * * - -Burlesquing a drunkard! Why not burlesque a funeral? with the coffin -and the mourners, with their sobs and tears and grieving hearts? Do -those who get up such a painful exhibition ever think that there may -be amid their audience some persons who have had, day after day, their -lives saddened and imbittered by the dreadful reality? Is it a -legitimate theme for mirth or ridicule? We think not. - - - - -_HELP FOR THE HELPFUL._ - - -I have never, in any temperance discussion, written or spoken, heard -or seen any mention of this class of inebriates; and yet the drunkards -on tea are just as surely sapping the foundations of life, as the -devourers of whiskey or gin. That women only, or mostly, are the -victims, does not lessen the importance of my statement. I say mostly, -for I have in my recollection at least two literary men of note, who -primed themselves on strong green tea, without sugar or milk, for any -literary effort, when overtasked nature flagged. One of them became in -consequence subject to distressing fits, and has since deceased. - -But it is the women who practise this form of inebriation of whom I -would now speak. The working-girls, the sempstresses, the tenders in -shops, who, being able to pay but slender price for board, get -badly-cooked, poor food, and, in consequence, often three times a day, -call for the fatal "cup of tea," which, for the moment, "sets them -up," as they call it, and enables them to shoulder again the load they -have dropped, till another fit of exhaustion overtakes them, worse -than the preceding, to be followed by a repetition of the same -_pro-tem._ remedy. Then follow indigestion, headaches, sleepless -nights, and the usual long train of miseries, which any physician who -has ever been called upon to prescribe for these overworked, underfed -unfortunates, will immediately endorse. Tea to the working-girl, taken -in this way, is like the "corner-grocery-drink" to the working-man, -and just as deadly in its results as if it sent her reeling through -the streets, as rum does him; although she neither sees, knows, nor -would admit it, any more than he would. Sometimes, when you speak to -them about it, they reply, "But I must have something to keep me up; I -have no appetite for food; I am so tired all the time, and tea makes -me feel so good." - -The old plea of the drunkard the world over. Look at these weary -women, with dark circles about their eyes, nervous almost to insanity, -ready to "cry" at the slightest notice, the blue veins on their -temples looking as if they were painted _outside_ the skin. Look at -their long, thin, _sick_-looking fingers, and their slow, weary steps, -from which all the spring and elasticity of youth has long since -departed. See them swallowing "pills" by the dozen, and trying every -quack medicine afloat, instead of resisting the enemy which has done -all or two-thirds the mischief. - -Of course, the world over, _bad food_ is the sworn ally of drunkenness -in every shape, and these poor girls have much to contend against in -that shape. - -Then, again, I think few women can long preserve their self-respect -amid dirty surroundings. One often sees with a pained pleasure--if -this expression is not paradoxical--their faint attempts to make light -out of darkness, and beauty out of deformity, in the solitary plant, -struggling for life, and its one slant ray of sunshine, outside some -tenement-house window. Or, if you enter, a rude print upon the soiled -wall, of some saint, or child, or some scene in nature; upon which -latter the weary eyes often turn with a vain longing at realization. -These sights, to the humanitarian, who is trying to solve life's great -problem for the benefit of those on whom it bears so heavily, are -suggestive. It is clear, at least, that woman, from choice, would not -be amid dirt or noisome odors. What _man_ would become, without her -refining influence, and the touch of her reformatory fingers, and her -unpolluted sense of smell, of which tobacco has deprived him, it is -not my purpose now to consider, although I have very firmly rooted -ideas on this subject. But there is a class of women among those whom -adverse circumstances have thrown into such places, upon whom it bears -the more hardly, because they have been accustomed all their life to -the reverse of this. - -Hundreds so situated, sunk out of sight of former acquaintances by -cruel want, bear it bravely, heroically, while struggling hopefully -and one-handed, against discouraging odds, for better days. Some, -alas! go _down_, soul-sick, body-weary, under the unequal contest, as -we who live in this great, swarming city know. Benevolent ladies in -New York are awake to this; and the question arising, What can we do -for such? has been answered, by energetic and Christian ladies, by the -establishment of boarding-houses, in respectable and pleasant -neighborhoods; with board at prices but little higher than those which -they were obliged to pay in the disagreeable localities above -mentioned. Indeed, in some urgent and genuine cases, upon application, -the applicant has been received upon merely nominal board, in -recognition of the Bible fact that "bricks cannot be made without -straw." In one such institution, I lately spent a most profitable and -delightful morning. It is located on Washington square--one of the -most delightful as well as central spots in New York City--by ladies -of wealth and position in society, and, better still, ladies of -intelligence and piety,--executive ladies, who do something beside -_talk_, and know how, and when, and where to act for this great and -humane object. - -With such a good and solid foundation, they have moved on, as their -strength and means have permitted. I passed from one to another of the -pleasant rooms of the young ladies, who occupied apartments here, and -who were, at that hour in the forenoon, scattered far and wide over -the city; some as teachers in schools and in families, some as pupils -in the School of Design, or the ward schools, while many were occupied -as dress-makers, sempstresses, copyists, &c. I looked around me at the -clean white little beds, at the books, at the prints upon the walls, -at the climbing ivy and flowering plants, upon which the sun was -shining as if in blessing, at the innumerable little tokens of -personality, which are so suggestive to the stranger on entering an -unoccupied apartment; those _little_ things which say to you as you -read the title of a genuine and well-thumbed book, "Ah! here lives one -who _thinks_;" or you see by the thousand little refined touches, and -orderly and wise arrangement of clothing and furniture, the neat -thrift of woman expressed, and you feel thankful that they will not -come home, when the day's toil is over, to unholy sounds, and unclean -sights, and bad air, and loathsome food. You thank God that such women -can keep up heart for their exhaustive and unaccustomed toil, by the -_certainty_ of a safe and respectable shelter over their heads, when -night draws its curtain over the temptations and the wickedness of -this great city. You are thankful that their self-respect is not only -preserved in this most important way, but by intercourse and contact -with the ladies of worth and refinement who have the institution in -charge and at heart. - -If this is not a noble institution, what is? I do not call it a -charity. It were wrong so to designate it. From out that threshold -pass noble, _self-supporting_ girls, putting to shame the useless -lives of the idle, paniered ladies who remorselessly wear out the -souls of husbands, fathers, and brothers, in the vain struggle for -fashionable supremacy. No: this Institution is a _help_, not a -_charity_. Its object is to help those who wish to help themselves. - -Upon one of the walls of a little room there I saw a representation of -the "Grecian Bend." I looked on this picture, and on that, and my eyes -were moist with gratitude for one, and with womanly shame for the -other. - - * * * * * - -Do you ever think how much work a little child does in a day? How, -from sunrise to sunset, the dear little feet patter round--to us--so -aimlessly. Climbing up here, kneeling down there, running to another -place, but never still. Twisting and turning, rolling and reaching and -doubling, as if testing every bone and muscle for their future uses. -It is very curious to watch it. One who does so may well understand -the deep breathing of the rosy little sleeper, as, with one arm tossed -over its curly head, it prepares for the next day's gymnastics. A busy -creature is a little child. - - - - -_WOMEN ON THE PLATFORM._ - - - "Miss Marianna Thompson, now a student at the Theological - school, received, during her summer vacation two invitations to - settle with good societies, each of which offered her twelve - hundred dollars per year. Pretty good for a school-girl, I - think." - - Yes, that is very good; and we trust Miss Thompson will accept - one of these (or a better) and do great good to her hearers. - And, should some excellent young man ask her to "settle" with - him as wife, _at no salary at all_, we advise her to heed that - "call" as well.--_N. Y. Tribune._ - -Well, now, Mr. _Tribune_, I don't. I have seen too many women, quite -as capable as Miss Thompson of being self-supporting individuals, -exhausting the last remnant of their strength in the family, and -carefully saving every penny for a husband, who never doled out -twenty-five cents, without asking the purpose for which it was needed, -and reiterating the stale advice to spend it judiciously. I have seen -such women, too proud to complain or remonstrate, turn away with a -crimson cheek, and a moist eye, to dicker, and haggle, and contrive -for this end, when the husband who gave this advice, had effectually -blotted out the word self-denial from his own dictionary. - -No, Mr. _Tribune_, I differ from you entirely. I advise no woman to -refuse twelve hundred independent dollars a year for good, honest -labor, to become such a serf as this. - -And while we are on this subject, I would like to air the disgust with -which I am nauseated, at the idea of any decent, intelligent, -self-respecting, capable wife, ever being obliged _to ask_ for that -which she so laboriously earns, and which is just as much hers by -right, as the money that her husband receives from his customers is -_his_, instead of his next-door--dry-goods--neighbor's. - -No man should thus humiliate a woman; no woman should permit herself -to be thus humiliated. I am not now speaking of those foolish women, -to whom a ribbon, or a necklace, is dearer than their husband's -strength, life, or mercantile honor. I put such women entirely out of -the question; only remarking, that if a man marries a fool in the hope -of her being pliant, and easily ruled by him, he will find too late -that he is mistaken. But that's his affair. Men always have, and -always will keep on admiring their own perspicacity in reading female -character, when not one in ten knows any more what his wife is -spiritually made of, than what sheep furnished the coat for his own -back. - -Sary Gamp advised her comrade--nurse--to put the mutual bottle on the -shelf, and "_look the other way_!" - -That's just what I would advise the husbands of intelligent wives to -do with regard to the money which they "allow" them, and which one -would imagine was rightly theirs, by virtue of risking their lives -every Friday to become the mother of twins; by virtue of, when lying -faint and weak beside them, giving out orders for the comfort and -well-being of the family down-stairs before they are able to get -about; by virtue of _never_ being able for one moment, day or night, -sick or well, to drop, or to shake, off the responsibility which a -_good_ wife and mother must always feel, whether present or absent -from her family. - -Oh! treat such a woman generously. Make up your mind what in justice -she should receive in the money way, and don't above all things, wait -for her to _ask_ you for it, and never, never be mean enough to charge -a woman of this kind "to spend it carefully." - -I daresay you have done it, and _you_, and _you_; I daresay you are -real good fellows too, and _mean_ to do what is right. And I know you -"love" your wives--_i.e._, as _men_ love--thus--wounding a sensitive -spirit, without the least notion you are doing it; thus--charging the -tear that follows to a coming toothache or stomach-ache! Great -blundering creatures! I sometimes don't know whether to box your ears -or hug you. Because the very next minute you will say, or do, some -such perfectly lovely thing, that, woman fashion, I exclaim, -"Well--well;" but I wont tell you what I do say, because you'll hop -right off the stool of repentance, and go to your normal occupation of -crowing and bragging. - -But, seriously, I do wish you would consider a little this same money -question, and when the time comes for payment, don't, as I tell you, -open your pocket-book, heave a deep sigh, as you spread a bill on your -knee, and give it a despairing glance of love, as you dump it in your -wife's outstretched hand. No, sir! follow Sary Gamp's advice: "Put it -on the shelf, and look the other way, and don't trouble yourself to -tell her to '_make it go as far as she can_,'" because she will -naturally do that, and there's where you are a fool again. I should -think you'd know by this time, that it will go so far _you_ wont see -it again your natural lifetime. And why shouldn't it? Does she require -to know whether you pay fifteen cents apiece for your cigars; whether -you couldn't buy a cheaper kind, and how many a day you smoke? Come -now, be honest--would _you_ like that? - -As I have always declined all requests to lecture, or to speak in -public, I may be allowed to make a few remarks on the treatment of -those who do. - -Can anybody tell me why reporters, in making mention of lady speakers, -always consider it to be necessary to report, fully and _firstly_, the -dresses worn by them? When John Jones or Senator Rouser frees his mind -in public, we are left in painful ignorance of the color and fit of -his pants, coat, necktie and vest--and worse still, the shape of his -boots. This seems to me a great omission. How can we possibly judge of -his oratorical powers, of the strength or weakness of his logic, or -of his fitness in any way to mount the platform, when these important -points are left unsolved to our feeble feminine imaginations? For one, -I respectfully request reporters to ease my mind on these subjects--to -tell me decidedly whether a dress, or a frock-coat, or a bob-tailed -jacket was worn by these masculine orators; whether their pants had a -stripe down the side, and whether the dress lapels of their coats were -faced with silk, or disappointed the anxious and inquiring eye of the -public by presenting only a broadcloth surface. I have looked in vain -for any satisfaction on these points. - -I propose that the present staff of male reporters should be -remodelled, and that some enterprising journal should send to Paris -for the man-milliner Worth, in order that this necessary branch of -reportorial business be more minutely and correctly attended to. - -Speaking of reporters, I was present the other night at a -female-suffrage meeting, where many distinguished men made eloquent -speeches in favor thereof. At the reporters' table sat two young lady -reporters side by side with the brethren of the same craft. Truly, -remarked I to my companion, it is very well to plead for women's -rights, but more delicious to me is the sight of those two girls -_taking them_! But, rejoined my cautious male friend, you see, Fanny, -a woman couldn't go to report a rat-fight, or a prize-fight, or a -dog-fight. _But_, replied I, just let the women go "marching on" as -they have begun, and there will soon _be_ no rat-fights, dog-fights, -or prize-fights to report. It will appear from this, that I believe in -the woman _that is to be_. I do--although she has as yet had to -struggle with both hands tied, and then had her ears boxed for not -doing more execution. Cut the string, gentlemen, and see what you -shall see! "Pooh! you are afraid" to knock that chip off our shoulder. - -How strange it all seems to me, the more I ponder it, that men can't, -or don't, or wont see that woman's enlightenment is man's millennium. -"My wife don't understand so and so, and it's no use talking to -her."--"My wife will have just so many dresses, and don't care for -anything else."--"My wife wont look after my children, but leaves them -to nurses, she is so fond of pleasure." So it would seem that these -Adams and the "wife thou gavest to be with me," even now find their -respective and flowery Edens full of thorns, even _without_ that -serpent, female suffrage, whose slimy trail is so deprecated. - -Put _this_ in the crown of your hats, gentlemen! _A fool of either sex -is the hardest animal to drive that ever required a bit. Better one -who jumps a fence now and then, than your sulky, stupid donkey, whose -rhinoceros back feels neither pat or goad._ - - - - -_POVERTY AND INDEPENDENCE._ - - -"I don't like those sewing-girls," remarked a friend to me. "Why don't -they go into some respectable family as chamber-maids, or nurses, or -cooks? If they are too proud to to do this, I have no pity for them." -Now there is just where the speaker and myself differ. _I_ pity them, -_because_ they are too proud to do this. Besides, I do not think it is -altogether because the name or position of "servant" is so obnoxious -to them. It is the confinement of their position. It is the duration -of their hours of labor--extending into the evening, and often till -late in the evening, week after week, to which they object; whereas -the working-girl in most other departments of service is released at -nightfall, and is her own mistress till another day of toil begins. -Now, answer me: Were you, and you, similarly placed, would you not -desire, even in the face of the drawbacks attending it, your -_evenings_ to yourself? I think so. It is true, from "these evenings -to themselves," have dated the perdition of many of this class. Still, -_young_ eyes will never see with old spectacles. Young blood will -never course so sluggishly that all work, and no respite, will be -accepted without nature's strong protest. "_One_ evening out in a -week," that is the general holiday for a house servant: would not -_your_ youth have rebelled, madam, at this? even though your remainder -evenings were passed in the bright parlor, with loving eyes resting -upon you, instead of the underground kitchen, rebelliously watching -the bell-wire? You must look at this subject with their eyes, instead -of your own; through their privations, instead of through your -privileges, if you would be just. - -Said a merry matron, apologetically, to me, who had passed life's -meridian, "I never had any youth, and I am taking it now." That is -just it! _The heart demands its youth, and, some time or other, it -must and will have it._ God grant that to these poor girls, it may -come harmlessly,--innocently! But I, for one, can never wonder or -condemn, though I often deplore, that, driven at bay, like hunted -animals, and many of them with limited knowledge and intelligence, -they should snatch at the passing sunbeam, lest another should never -gild their lonesome path. - -We need a wider charity for these girls; for all those on whom life -bears so hardly. We who are well-fed, well-clothed, well-educated, how -illy do we, with all these helps to virtue and goodness, perform our -part. Let us remember this in our hasty judgment of them, in our -disgust that they do not choose for themselves more wisely. Let us not -in church, or elsewhere, ask to be forgiven _our_ shortcomings, with -all these helps, when, if one less enlightened stumbles and falls by -the way, we "do not pity them,"--nay, more, because they have done so, -we refuse to help them again to their feet. - -I have alluded, in a former article, to the cheap and comfortable -boarding-houses, as a refuge to the working-girl from the horrors of -their tenement-house home. I was descanting upon their advantages not -long since to one who has herself been through many of the most -distressing phases of the sewing-girl's life. She heard me silently, -and to my surprise, without enthusiasm, when I spoke of the wholesome -food, pure air, refreshing baths, free reading-room, and laundry. -"What?" asked I--"do you not consider this a blessed asylum for these -girls?" - -With an emphasis which I cannot convey on paper, she said, as her eye -kindled, "Give me rather my poor room, even in the tenement-house, -where, if I had a grief, I could cry it out, with no eye but that of -my Maker to witness it. I could never be happy to go to my bed at -night in company with a dozen others, in ever so clean or spacious an -apartment, where there was no privacy. I had rather work ever so hard, -and _earn_ all I had, than to feel that I was in any measure a -recipient of charity,--that I _was in an Institution_, and labelled as -an inmate when I passed in and out." - -Now there are those who, reading this, will only express disgust. I -confess, although it surprised me, that I have a strong sympathy with -the self-respect which prompted this frank avowal; and, excellent as -is the embryo Institution above alluded to, I yet hope that as its -means increase each inmate may have an apartment to herself, be it -ever so small, that the poor heart which "knoweth its own bitterness" -may not be "intermeddled with" by any stranger. - - * * * * * - -Never apply the word "tomboy" to a girl who is taking healthy and -innocent exercise. Are there not mincing misses enough about us, who -pervert girlhood by adult nonsense, till the whole head is sick, and -the whole heart is faint? Better, a thousandfold, be "tomboys" than -such _things_ as these. "Tomboys" have lungs and chests and rosy -cheeks, and grow up to be healthy mothers of healthy children. -_Doctors_ may not like them, but common-sense and husbands do; though, -truth to say, these terms are not always synonymous. - - - - -_THE HISTORY OF OUR LATE WAR._ - - -Many able works have already appeared on this subject, and many more -will doubtless follow. But _my_ History of the War is yet to be -written; not indeed _by_ me, but _for_ me. A history which shall -record, not the deeds of our Commanders and Generals, noble and great -as they were, because these will scarcely fail of historical record -and prominence; but _my_ history shall preserve for the descendants of -those who fought for our flag, the noble deeds of our _privates_, who -shared the danger but missed the glory. Scattered far and wide in our -remote villages--hidden away amid our mountains--struggling for daily -bread in our swarming cities, are these unrecognized heroes. -Travelling through our land, one meets them everywhere; but only as -accident, or chance, leads to conversation with them, does the plain -man by your side become transfigured in your eyes, till you feel like -uncovering your head in his presence, as when one stands upon holy -ground. Not only because they were brave upon the battle-field, but -for their sublime self-abnegation under circumstances when the best of -us might be forgiven our selfishness; in the tortures of the ambulance -and hospital--quivering through the laggard hours, that might or -might not bring peace and rest and health. Oh! what a book might be -written upon the noble unselfishness _there_ displayed; not only -towards those who fought _for_ our flag, but _against_ it. The coveted -drop of water, handed by one dying man to another, whose sufferings -seemed the greater. The simple request to the physician to pass _his_ -wounds by, till those of another, whose existence was unknown to him a -moment before, should have been alleviated. Who shall embalm us these? - -Last summer, when I was away in the country, I was accustomed to row -every evening at sunset on a lovely lake near by. The boatman who went -with me was a sunburnt, pleasant-faced young man, whose stroke at the -oar it was poetry to see. He made no conversation unless addressed, -save occasionally to little Bright-Eyes, who sometimes accompanied me. -One evening, as the sun set gloriously and the moon rose, and the -aurora borealis was sending up flashes of rose and silver, I said, -"Oh, this is too beautiful to leave. I _must_ cross the lake again." I -made some remark about the brilliance of the North Star, when he -remarked simply, "That star was a good friend to me in the war." "Were -you in the war?" asked I; "and all these evenings you have rowed a -loyal woman like me about this lake, and I knew nothing of it!" Then, -at my request, came the story of Andersonville, and its horrors, told -simply, and without a revengeful word; then the thrilling attempt at -escape, through a country absolutely unknown, and swarming with -danger, during which the North Star, of which I had just spoken, was -his only guide. Then came a dark night, when the friendly star, alas! -disappeared. But a watch, which he had saved his money to obtain, had -a compass on the back of it. Still of what use was that without a -light? Our boatman was a Yankee. He caught a glowworm and pinched it. -It flashed light sufficient for him to see that he was heading for one -of our camps, where, after many hours of travel, he at last found -safety, sinking down insensible from fatigue and hunger, as soon as he -reached it. So ravenously did he eat, when food was brought, that a -raging fever followed; and when he was carried, a mere skeleton, to -his home on the borders of the lovely lake where we were rowing, whose -peaceful flow had mocked him in dreams in that seething, noisome -prison pen, he did not even recognize it. For months his mother -watched his sick-bed, till reason and partial health returned--till by -degrees he became what he then was. - -When he had finished, I said, "Give me your hand--_both of 'em_--and -God bless you!"--and--then I _mentioned_ his jailers! Not a word of -bitterness passed his lips--only this: "I used to gasp in the foul air -at Andersonville, and think of this quiet, smooth lake, and our little -house with the trees near it, and long so to see them again, and row -my little boat here. But," he added, quietly, "_they_ thought they -were as right as we, and they _did_ fight well!" - -I swallowed a big lump in my throat--as our boat neared the shore, and -he handed me out--and said, penitently, "Well, if _you_ can forgive -them, I am sure I ought to; but it will be the hardest work I ever -did."--"Well, it is strange," said he: "I have often noticed it, since -my return, that you who stayed at home feel more bitter about it, than -we who came so near dying there of foul air and starvation." - - * * * * * - -A rich man, just stepping into the grave, burdened with more money -than he has known all his life what to do with, is extolled to the -skies for his legacies and bequests here and there--at home and -abroad. Now, why all this laudation? Is not the poor servant girl, who -can scarce keep herself comfortably clothed, and yet every Sunday puts -her pittance religiously into the contribution box, more deserving of -praise? And yet who ever takes this other than as a matter of course, -save Him who seeth even the widow's mite? - - - - -_TWO KINDS OF WOMEN._ - - -Mrs. Jones--do you know her? She looks well to the ways of her -household. She knows how every ounce of butter, and every spoonful of -tea and coffee are disposed of. She is posted as to the sugar, and -milk and potatoes, and calculates to a moment how long-lived must be a -joint of meat, or what is the weight of a loaf of bread. She -understands what should be the perpetuity of kindling wood, and knows -when it is diverted from its original purpose as an _auxiliary_, by a -dilatory cook, and used as a principal, to hurry up a late breakfast. -You can't cheat Mrs. Jones. Every pot, pan, basin, knife, fork, spoon, -in her establishment, serves its legitimate purpose, and no other; and -never loses its edge or polish, or disappears "unbeknownst" into the -ash-barrel. She scorns to buy preserves or pickles, how well soever -made, and though she may encounter no pecuniary loss in doing so; she -thinks it an excellent use of her time, although they are "well off," -to prepare them with her own deft hands. She is at home when her -husband leaves, and she is at home when her husband comes back. She -does much of the sewing and fitting of family garments, and all the -mending; and she often calls upon the minister to baptize a new baby. -She is cheerful and content in her snuggery of a house, and every -saucepan in it is surrounded with a halo. "Woman's Rights" simply sets -her giggling, when mentioned. Her own family tub sets firm on its -bottom--isn't that enough? Year after year passes. The freshness has -left her face, and the features have sharpened, as she whirls round -and round in this little maelstrom, with no desire to catch breath for -one single moment. Occasionally she goes outside of her own door, but -feels better inside, and hurries home as if she had committed a crime, -in letting up her martinet superintendence for one moment. - -As to books and newspapers, she never looks at either. "She says she -has no time." I don't know whether she ever thinks that her children -will some day grow up, and may ask questions which it were a pity -their mother should be too ignorant to answer. I don't know whether -she ever thinks her husband may weary at evening, of the history of -the family potato. Since it is cooked invariably to his liking, it may -be that is all he requires. But after he has eaten his dinner, and is -satisfied--such is man--that I wouldn't like to dismiss Mrs. Jones to -the nursery and put a bright woman in her place, unless "ma" lived -round the corner. - -Now Mrs. Smith lives opposite Mrs. Jones. The devil might fly away -with _her_ saucepans, and she wouldn't care. Why does she hire -servants, if she herself is to superintend saucepans? Is Mr. Smith -always home to dinner, that _she_ need be? Has a woman no rights? Is -it for her to be absorbed by the miserable family potato, when many -women have no potato at all? Her answer is on the public platform. -Smith indeed turns pale to think of it; but who or what is Smith? He's -only a man,--a tyrannical, overbearing man, possibly of the worst -type, who believes in "whipping females." Her "mission" is to reform -such men--peaceably, if she can; belligerently, if she must; but it -has got to "come off" somehow. Meantime the nurse rubs her children's -noses _up_ instead of down; fills their eyes with soap-suds, and then -boxes their ears for "whining about it;" eats _their_ lunch and tosses -them _hers_. She tells the youngest child of the "black man who -swallows little children whole" when she wants it to be still in bed, -so that she may converse with her "cousin" in the area; and then -wonders "what _can_ ail the little dear," when its progressive mother -returns from her public speech-making, to find it in a stiff fit. As -to Mr. Smith, he hates women's rights--he wants something to eat. - -Now here are two female extremists. I don't see the necessity of -either; but after saying this, I frankly declare that, had I to -choose, Mrs. Jones has my preference. _Her_ children have a home at -least. They have good wholesome food, and clothes suitable to the -weather. If they are sick, they have watchful care. And no mother, -unless she first secure all this to their helplessness, has any right, -in my opinion, on the public platform. This much Mrs. Jones hath -done. Possibly Jones, her husband, takes it, like sunshine, as a -matter of course, and needing no special thanks. Men are more stupid, -and ignorant, than ugly, on this and kindred points. _They_ don't -dream, unless in very exceptionable cases, how a wife longs sometimes -to have a husband testify his pleasure at her invariable good cheer in -some other way than by gobbling it up, till he is as torpid as an -anaconda, until next feeding time. _He_ never feels the need of such -recognition; and so, if his attention is called to it by a -half-smothered, weary sigh from some little wife who can't do without -it, why, he thinks it "babyish." _Such a man ought to marry a -man_--that's my verdict. Where's the sense of plucking a flower to put -your foot on it? Better take a stone post for better, or worse, and -have done with it. You can't dam--n up a woman's feelings as you would -a village stream. You can't choose her for her tender, womanly ways, -and then expect when you get her home that she will "heads up" with an -unwinking stare at you for further orders the rest of her life. If -that's the wife you wanted, why not take one of those figures outside -the store-doors in Broadway, with a dress pinned on, which, when -twirled round, stand stock still till they get another twirl? _They_ -are _headless_, to be sure, but they are _so_ docile! - - - - -_SUNDAY MORNING._ - - -How many pleasant breakfast-tables it looks down upon! No need to -hurry away to office, or store, or counting-room. Fathers come -leisurely down in dressing-gown and slippers, and sip their coffee -without danger of choking. They have time to look round and see how -tall the children are growing, and that nothing in this world is so -beautiful as a rosy baby fresh from slumber. Mother, too, has the old -girlish smile, that comes not often on a week-day, or if it does, -father has not time to notice it, and that, perhaps, after all, is the -reason it comes so seldom. It is pleasant, after eggs and coffee, to -sit comfortably down, the centre of a ring of happy faces, and hear -the church-bells chime. Time enough yet to go, for this is the first -bell. - -Church-bells are not, to my ear, an "impertinence." One is a free -agent. I am free to go, which I like to do; you are free to stay, if -you prefer; though I may think you make a mistake. I don't say that I -should go every Sunday to hear a man who was always binding doctrines -together like bundles of dry sticks, and thrusting them at his yawning -hearers. I want to hear a sermon that any poor soul who straggles -into church, from any by-lane or alley, can understand, and carry home -with him to his cellar or garret; not a sermon that comes on chariot -wheels, but afoot, and with a warm, life-like grasp for every honest, -aye, and _dis_honest, hand in the assembly, defaulter or Magdalen; for -who bade you slam heaven's gate in their faces? - -I want a _human_ sermon. I don't care what Melchisedek, or Zerubbabel, -or Kerenhappuk did, ages ago; I want to know what _I_ am to do, and I -want somebody besides a theological bookworm to tell me; somebody who -is sometimes tempted and tried, and is not too dignified to own it; -somebody like me, who is always sinning and repenting; somebody who is -glad and sorry, and cries and laughs, and eats and drinks, and _wants_ -to fight when they are trodden on, and _don't_! That's the minister -for me. I don't want a spiritual abstraction, with stony eyes and -petrified fingers, and no blood to battle with. What credit is it to -_him_ to be proper? How can he understand _me_? Were there only such -ministers in the pulpit, I wouldn't go to church either, because my -impatient feet would only beat a tattoo on the pew floor till service -was over: but, thank God! there are! and while they preach I shall go -to hear them, and come home better and happier for having done it. - -So I pray you don't abolish _my_ Sunday, whatever you may do with -yours. Don't take away my blessed Sunday breakfast, when we all have -time to love one another. Don't take away the Sabbath bells, which I -so love to hear. Don't take away my human minister, whose God is no -tyrant, and is better pleased to see us go smiling home from church, -than bowing our heads like a bulrush, and groaning back to our -dinners, till all you anti-Sabbatarians are mad to abolish -Sunday,--and no wonder. - -Our Catholic brethren have set us, at least one good example; their -churches are not silent as the tomb on week-days. Their worshippers do -not do up all their religion on Sunday. It may be only for a few -moments they step in through that open church-door, on a week-day, to -kneel and lay down burdens too heavy else to be borne. I like the -custom. I should rather say, I like the reminder, and the opportunity -thus afforded them; and I heartily wish that all our Protestant -churches could be thus opened. If rich Christians object to the -promiscuous use of their velvet cushions and gilded prayer-books, at -least let the aisles and altar be free for those who need God on the -week-days; for the poor, the tried, the tempted; for those who shrink, -in their shabby habiliments, from the Sunday exhibition of fine -toilettes and superfine Christianity. Were I a minister, and obliged -to preach to paniers and diamonds and satins, on Sunday, I think I -should _have_ to ease my heart in some such way as this, to make my -pastoral life endurable, else my office would seem to me the most -hollow of all mockeries. "The rich and the poor meet together, and -the Lord is the Maker of them all," should be inscribed outside my -church door, had I one. I could not preach to those paniers and their -owners. My tongue would be paralyzed at those kneeling distortions of -womanhood, bearing such a resemblance to organ-grinders' monkeys. I am -not sure that I should not grow hysterical over it, and laugh and cry -in the same breath, instead of preaching. I can never tell what vent -my disgust would take; but I am sure it must have some escape-valve. -You may say that such worshippers (Heaven save the mark!) _need_ -preaching to. I tell you that women, so given over to "the devil and -all his works," are past praying for; "having eyes, they see not; -having ears, they hear not." They are ossified, impervious; they are -Dead-Sea apples, full of ashes. There! now I feel better. - -Having alluded to our Roman Catholic friends, allow me to ask leave of -them to have the cross surmount all our _Protestant_ churches, unless -they have taken out a patent for the same. It is lovely to me, this -symbol, as I pass along our streets. It rests my heart to look at it, -amid the turmoil, and din, and hurry, and anxious faces, and sorrowful -faces, and, worse than all, empty faces, that I meet. I say to myself, -there is truth _there_; there is hope and comfort there, and this -tangle of life is _not_ the end. When I am a Protestant minister, the -dear cross shall be on my church, and nobody shall stay away from it -because they are ragged or poor, or because the cushions are too nice. -Oh, I like Catholicism for _that_. They are nearer heaven than -Protestants on this point. - -I am very glad for the Protestant noonday prayer-meetings, wheresoever -held. One may have a great spiritual need on other days than Sunday. -One may happen in here--if such things ever _happen_, which I -doubt--and _there_ learn that need, and the way to satisfy it. The -devil is cunningly and wisely busy _every day_ and every night in the -week. Why should good Christians think to circumvent this skilful -diplomatist in one?--on _Sunday_ only? The devil makes _easy_ all the -paths leading to perdition. Christians make hard and difficult the -road to heaven, with their fine churches, and fine worshippers, and -empty preaching once a week. And all around us pitiful hands are -outstretched, and hungry hearts are waiting for the loving Christian -word of help, temporal and spiritual; and men and women go down into -the maelstrom of despair, folly, and sin; and we open our churches and -let _well-dressed_ Christians in to pray for them on Sunday. Sunday! -the word has no meaning. Call it Monday or Tuesday, or Fourth of July, -or anything you will, but not "Sunday." _That_ once meant something. - -Let me give you a postscript to a sermon I once heard. "Middle age is -inevitable routine, but keep your _souls_ above it," I heard a -clergyman remark the other night. He "knew that it was difficult," he -said, "not to merge one's self at that crisis in the shop, in the -store, in the office; difficult _not_ to become a mere drudge and a -machine; but still, avoiding it was the only hope for this life." Oh, -how my heart echoed these words--not for men, but for my own sex, of -whose routine life the clergyman said nothing. I wanted to get up and -say to him, "My dear sir, your address is eloquent, and true, -scholarly, and sound, so far as it goes. It _is_ the only hope for -this life that these men of business should not become mere tools." -But I wanted to ask him if men, with their freedom of action--men who, -out in the world, inevitably come into collision with _stirring_, not -_stagnant_ life--find this difficult, what of their wives? With twenty -nerves where men have one to be jarred and agonized, with the pin and -needle fret, of every minute, which they may never hope to escape or -get away from; tied hand and foot, day and night, week after week, -with the ten thousand cords, invisible often to the dull eye of -husband and father, who accepts at evening the neat and pleasant -result, without a thought of how it was accomplished--without a -thought of the weariness of that inexorable grind of detail necessary -to it--without a thought that a change of scene is either necessary or -desirable for the wife and mother who is surely under its benumbing -influence, merging _her_ "soul" till she is a mere machine. - -I wanted to hear this clergyman say something about that. I wanted to -know of him whether these women were doing God and their husbands -service, by so sinking the spiritual part of them that one could -hardly tell that it had existence. I wanted to ask him whether, if -their husbands, through indifference or selfishness, or both, gave no -thought to this matter, if he--set in a high place to teach the -people--had no word of advice to such men, that they look as well to -the spiritual deterioration of the _mothers_ of their children as to -their own--the fathers. Nay, I insist that for the mother it is of -_more_ consequence, as having infinitely more to do with the forming -years of these children. And what time, pray, have many of these -"routine" mothers for "thought," properly so called? What time for -reading even the daily papers, to keep up intelligently with the great -issues of the day, of which it is a shame and disgrace for any -American wife and mother to be ignorant? How can they in this way be -fit companions for their children's future? How can they answer their -questions, on this subject and on that, while their vision is for ever -bounded by the horizon of the physical wants of the household? You may -preach "woman's duty" to me till you are hoarse; and I will preach to -you the lust and the selfishness, which is ever repeating the dilemma -of "the old woman in the shoe," till she has not an interval to think -whether she or her brood _have_ souls. "Routine life" of _men_! Men -can and do get out of it--"business takes them away from home on -journeys." "Business" takes him out pleasant evenings; on rainy ones, -he never has "business;" then he goes early to bed, to prepare for a -long evening of "business" when the sky clears. - -His wife--well, "she don't seem to need it; or if she does, she don't -say so;" and I might add, in the language of Dickens's nurse, Sary -Gamp, "it is little she needs, and that little she don't get," at -least from him. - -Routine men! Oh, bah! "Routine men" have a result to show for their -"routine." They have clerks--not from Intelligence-offices either--who -have to do as they bid them. They also lock up shop at dark. They also -walk or ride home in the fresh air, and talk with their male friends -while doing it. They also are not dependent on the whim or caprice of -any man to take them out for a breath of fresh air at night, after an -exhaustive day of indoor stifling detail. And so, though the sermon to -which I listened was excellent _from a man to men_, I made up my mind -to add this little Appendix to women, from a woman, on the -routine-woman's side of the question. You may talk of the selfishness -of women till your head is white; there never lived that selfish woman -so execrably selfish as a selfish man can be. I don't say _you_ are -so, sir: though at this distance, I venture to inquire whether, were -you in your wife's place, you wouldn't occasionally like to climb up -on the edge of the peck-measure in which she daily revolves, and look -about outside, even if it should tip over on the whole brood of young -ones in the process? - - - - -_JUSTICE FOR CLERGYMEN._ - - -Can anybody tell why clergymen should not receive fees for attending -funerals? They receive fees, and generous ones often, for performing -the marriage-ceremony, which is very unnecessary in comparison; a -wedding being a joyful, happy, inspiriting occasion, with its bright -faces, sweet flowers, and happy congratulations of friends; the -exceptions to which are so few as not to need enumerating; and it must -needs rest a man instead of wearying him, cobwebbed all over with -theological tangles as he is, to witness all this; for no matter what -vicissitudes fate and the future have in store for the two he has made -one, at least for _that_ hour they are supremely blessed, and he has -made them so. But a _funeral_! with all its present unnecessary and -dreadful accumulation of horrors; with its closed blinds, its piling -up of sable garments, its pale dead face, which needs no such -auxiliaries of gloom. Imagine a clergyman, already worn out, mentally -and physically, entering such a room, filled with mourning friends, to -whom even the Saviour's own sweet words would seem cold, who must each -for himself tread the wine-press _alone_, till such time as they can -find _Him_. Imagine this minister trying, by prayer and exhortation, -to lift that heavy load of sorrow which all who have grieved know, -that time and faith alone can lighten. Then he goes and looks into the -face of the dead--oh! how many dead faces has he looked at, through -the eyes of others, in the same way!--then he offers a friendly hand -to the widow, or the orphan, as the case may be, and then with this -immense draft on his sympathies, with those heart-rending sobs still -sounding in his ears, perhaps within that very hour, he is called to a -repetition of the sad scene. I am very sure that any clergymen of -experience and sensibility will say, that I have not overstated this -wear and tear of feeling in the delicate endeavor to say just the -right thing, to the differing faiths of the craving, sorrowing hearts -present. - -Now why, I ask, should clergymen, in addition to their other -exhaustive duties, be expected to go through this most exhaustive -service of all, without remuneration? More especially, when one -considers the often danger of contagious atmospheric influences, at -such times and places, upon his tired frame. - -I have often pondered, without yet being able to find a shadow of a -reason for this unjust demand upon clerical strength. If you say it is -the custom, I only say it is time that, with other bad customs, it -were reformed; and more--since clergymen themselves have their lips -delicately closed on this especial subject, while on others they might -be considered at liberty to speak. That's why _I_ have spoken for -them. - -I like ministers. I was brought up with them. My father's house was a -minister's tavern, lacking the sign swinging before the door. I was a -wild slip in those days; that's why they always "wanted a little -conversation with Sarah." It was philanthropic, but thrown away. I had -been told so often that I was "a child of wrath," that I had it at my -fingers' ends--I might have said, at my toes' ends, for it was they -who helped me out the nearest door after meals, lest I should hear the -stale announcement again. I persisted I "loved God," when I was asked. -Why shouldn't I? for no bugaboo of anybody's raising could have made -me believe I was born by him to be tormented. The flowers, the clouds, -the ocean, the sun, moon, and stars--what priceless gifts were they! -No "doctrine" or "creed" could rob me of them; and didn't _he_ make -them, and give me a soul to enjoy them? It was of no use telling me I -was a "child of wrath" under circumstances like these! One soft sweet -breath from my flower-garden knocked that idea "all to smithereens." - -Now I didn't hate those ministers for trying to darken what should -have been, and what _was_, in spite of them, youth's festival hour. I -knew they _thought_ they were right, and I believe them to be truly -good, though mistaken, men. They didn't know that, child as I was, if -_I_ ever went to Heaven, it would be taking hold of my Heavenly -Father's hand, not cowering before him through fear of "hell." So -they fired over my curls, when they got me in a corner, and talked to -me that way. They didn't make me hate "meetin'" either; though I was -driven there to hear so many "seventeenth-lies" at the point of the -bayonet; and when skewered up on the seat between rows of big folks, I -felt as if little ants were creeping out from under my finger-nails, -so fidgety did I get for the blessed outdoors. - -But I have not outgrown "meetin'" yet, and I count no Sunday a Sunday -when I don't go there some part of the day. Oh, had they only known -_how_ to talk to me, instead of driving me within myself, and making -me put my worst religious foot foremost. But clergymen have found a -better way since, thank God! Still I often smile at the bits of the -old leaven in the ministerial make up. How they will wonder at it all, -when eternity's light shines down on their life-path, and shows them -these mistakes. For I make no apology here for boldly asserting that a -minister can, and does, and always will, make an occasional mistake; -although I was once pounced down upon by an evangelical critic, who -talked to me about "wounding the Lord in the house of his friends," -when I said so. It is just such stuff as that, that drives everybody -_from_ the "Lord." Better face the music, and own up, that even -ministers are _human_. For my part, were I a minister, and fenced in, -and badgered about, and cross-questioned and interfered with, and -expected to be a sound, rounded, well-disposed human being, morally, -mentally, and physically, all the same as if a coroner's inquest -wasn't squatting on my free-agency every hour in the day, I'll warrant -you I should make a great many more mistakes than they do. Old Adam in -me, would soon see that they didn't want material for a verdict to -suit their narrowness. - -And now I hope I have shown you that I am a friend to ministers. So -that without getting a boxed ear, I must tell you here, what a laugh I -got out of a lot of them yesterday. You see, I was in an omnibus -alone, save one lady, when a meeting of some sort in one of our -churches "bust up,"--excuse the expression--"bust up." Five ministers -emerging from the church porch, hailed the omnibus and got in, and -decorously seated themselves. Now, some ministers look jolly, and as -if they were alive. These were thin, cavernous, and had the ten -commandments written all over them. They had heard of New York -Delilahs evidently, for they wouldn't see the _fare_ of the lady or -myself between our gloved fingers waiting for the driver--not a bit of -it! Catch them at it! They looked straight past us both, safely out -the window at an innocent brick wall. Oh, heavens! how I laughed! It -carried me back to the days I was a curly-headed little sinner, -rebelling at being called "a child of wrath." I wanted to say, -"Brethren, I too am a Christian"--and I will persist that I am; so -don't be afraid of my innocent female pennies, nor "cross" yourselves -because your foot accidentally touched the hem of my robe when you got -in; for though I believe in ministers, I _don't_ like to have the -devil laugh in his sleeve at their queer, poky, solemn ways, and say -to himself, "Aha! so would I have it." - -May clergymen sneeze? Well--not exactly that; but a question quite as -foolish, I saw gravely propounded and treated, the other day, in a -religious paper. The debate was upon this highly important point: -"Whether it was right for ministers to play croquet." Now I really -_had_ hoped that the day had gone by when the only amusement allowed -to ministers was counting the scores of little heads that surrounded -their table. I did hope that they might wash their faces on a towel, -though it had not a funereal urn embroidered in the corners. And that -they need not of necessity plant a cypress, or weeping willow, at -their front door, to designate their raven-like calling; or banish -every plant from their garden save the funereal rue and rosemary. It -seems I was mistaken; more's the pity. Now if there is anything the -devil likes, it is fine-spun, wire-drawn distinctions, on unimportant -questions like these. If there is anything he likes, it is this -ascetic rendering of religious things, to disgust the young, and throw -a pall over that which _should_ attract them by a wise recognition of -their human needs. When we place a young plant down cellar and shut -out light and sunshine, though it may put out shoots, we all know that -they are white, sickly, and destined early to perish; just so with -this misnamed "godliness" which the well-meaning but over-zealous -religionist would thrust upon us and persuade us was doing -God-service. I tell you it is _not_. I tell you that a minister, above -all others, needs innocent and proper recreation, like croquet. Every -summer, in my travels to and fro, I meet "ministers" enjoying their -brief respite of a summer-vacation; most of them bearing unmistakable -evidence in their pale faces and narrow chests, of their great -necessity for it. I have watched them, sympathetically, as they sat on -the piazzas of the hotels and boarding-houses where we were thrown -together. I have seen them commit this unpardonable sin of "playing -croquet" on a nice green lawn, while the fresh mountain air tinged -their pale cheeks, and their eyes grew brighter, and their tones grew -cheerful, and I blessed God for the sight. I said to myself, _that's_ -the way to foil the devil, when the young people found, day after day, -that even a "_minister_" could be cheerful himself and promote -cheerfulness; and that religion, after all, was not death to innocent -happiness. I have been with ministers to the ten-pin alley, in company -with their wives, children, and friends; I have climbed mountains with -them, when I had a better frolic than I ever had with any of the -laymen; and after a three-hours climb, and we all sat upon the top and -enjoyed the view of the surrounding country, and, seated upon the -grass, ate our luncheon, I never perceived that religion suffered by -it. I _have_ often, on the contrary, heard young people of the party -say, "Well, this is the first time I ever _really_ liked a minister. I -thought they were all stiff and solemn, and--to use a juvenile but -expressive epithet--'poky'"! Nor when the following Sunday, sweet as -Sunday always dawns on the hills and valleys, dawned on us, in some -such lovely spot, and these same clergymen were requested to preach, -sometimes in the parlor of the hotel, sometimes, which was better, in -a grove near the house, did _I_ for one perceive anything incongruous -in his doing so, though the audience was the very same merry party of -the day before. And when they have joined in the sweet hymn under the -trees, where he stood with uncovered head, as in God's best temple, I -confess to much more devotion than I am apt to feel, when surrounded -and hedged in, and, allow me to say, sometimes _stifled_ with all the -clerical city paraphernalia, whose husk often seems to me so to shut -in and compress the kernel, that one almost doubts if it has -existence. - -Ministers play croquet? I wish every minister had a violin and a brisk -saddle-horse. Away with this bogus sanctity. Take a lesson from our -Roman Catholic friends in the virtue of cheerfulness. Drive not _from_ -you, but draw soothingly, caressingly to you the lambs of the flock. -Terror never yet made a true Christian. Frigidity never yet glorified -God. The world is not a charnel-house. Else the blue sky would have -been as black as some of these ascetics fain would make it. No! It is -full of perfume and song and color, and you can never shut the eyes -of young people to it with your distorted views of life. Oh, be wiser, -lest the sad rebound of the atheist come, and they find only at the -end of a life misspent, that in their zeal to prove your detested -"religion" a sham, they had overlooked the fact that the counterfeit -presupposes the _true coin_. - - * * * * * - -How seldom, in judging of those who excite our anger or contempt, do -we judge them, as the Almighty does, by the extenuating circumstances -of birth and education, and the lack of spiritual light! "Nobody ever -told me;" "I did not know it was wrong;" "Nobody cared whether I was -good or bad." What pitiful words are these! The Saviour recognized -these facts when he said, "Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no -more." - - - - -_THE OLD MAID OF THE PERIOD._ - - -She don't shuffle round in "skimpt" raiment, and awkward shoes, and -cotton gloves, with horn side-combs fastening six hairs to her -temples; nor has she a sharp nose, and angular jaw, and hollow cheeks, -and only two front teeth. She don't read "Law's Serious Call," or keep -a cat, or a snuff-box, or go to bed at dark, save on vestry-meeting -nights, nor scowl at little children, or gather catnip, or apply a -broomstick to astonished dogs. - -Not a bit of it. The modern "old maid" is round and jolly, and has her -full complement of hair and teeth, and two dimples in her cheek, and -has a laugh as musical as a bobolink's song. She wears pretty, nicely -fitting dresses too, and cunning little ornaments around her plump -throat, and becoming bits of color in her hair, and at her breast, in -the shape of little knots and bows; and her waist is shapely, and her -hands have sparkling rings, and no knuckles; and her foot is cunning, -and is prisoned in a bewildering boot; and she goes to concerts and -parties and suppers and lectures and matinees, and she don't go alone -either; and she lives in a nice house, earned by herself, and gives -jolly little teas in it. She don't care whether she is married or not, -nor need she. She can afford to wait, as men often do, till they have -"seen life," and when their bones are full of aches, and their blood -tamed down to water, and they have done going out, and want somebody -to swear at and to nurse them--then marry! - -Ah! the modern old maid has her eye-teeth cut. She takes care of -herself, instead of her sister's nine children, through mumps, and -measles, and croup, and chicken-pox, and lung fever and leprosy, and -what not. - -_She_ don't work that way for no wages and bare toleration, day and -night. No, sir! If she has no money, she teaches, or she lectures, or -she writes books or poems, or she is a book-keeper, or she sets types, -or she does anything but hang on to the skirts of somebody's else -husband, and she feels well and independent in consequence, and holds -up her head with the best, and asks no favors, and "_Woman's Rights_" -has done it! - -That awful bugbear, "Woman's Rights"! which small-souled men, and, I -am sorry to say, narrow _women_ too, burlesque and ridicule, and wont -believe in, till the Juggernaut of Progress knocks them down and rides -over them, because they will neither climb up on it, nor get out of -the way. - -The fact is, the _Modern_ Old Maid is as good as the Modern Young -Maid, and a great deal better, to those who have outgrown bread and -butter. She has sense as well as freshness, and conversation and -repartee as well as dimples and curves. - -She carries a dainty parasol, and a natty little umbrella, and wears -killing bonnets, and has live poets and sages and philosophers in her -train, and knows how to use her eyes, and don't care if she never sees -a cat, and couldn't tell a snuff-box from a patent reaper, and has a -bank-book and dividends: yes, sir! and her name is Phoebe or Alice; -and Woman's Rights has done it. - - * * * * * - -A newspaper lately announced that the fashion of blue coats and brass -buttons for gentlemen had received its death-blow. Now, listen, ye men -who are constantly preaching to us women, about our "slavery to -fashion." It was done by Prince Arthur, who _didn't_ wear it at a -recent great public ball. Deadly stab! We hope the gentlemen who did -appear in that costume will not commit suicide. But if we might give -them a little bit of advice, it would be, that they should keep on -wearing blue coats and brass buttons, just _because_ "the Prince" -didn't. Show yourself superior to fashion, gentlemen, as you so often -advise ladies to do. Try the boot on _that_ foot. Don't throw aside a -good coat for the puerile reason that it is out of fashion! Oh, no! - - - - -_THE NURSE OF THE PERIOD._ - - -All honor to Mr. Bergh for his remedial measures to prevent cruelty to -animals. Cats, they say, have nine lives; so, with this in their -favor, will the gentleman above mentioned let them wriggle a while, -and devote that portion of his time to an animal which has only one -life. I refer to the New York child--the _rich_ New York child. If he -will take a walk through any of our city parks with his eyes open, he -cannot fail to see suffering enough among this class to enlist his -warmest sympathies. I often stroll through the parks to hear the birds -sing, and to see the children. One day last week I saw a bright little -boy of four years amusing himself by picking up little twigs that had -fallen from the trees, while his nurse was engaged in interminable -gossip with one of her class. Turning her head suddenly, she perceived -him engaged in this harmless and natural amusement. Snatching them -from his hand, she took each little twig separately and struck him -with each across his happy little face; then, throwing them away out -of his reach, left him standing there, sobbing, with nothing to do, -while she continued her chapter of gossip. Walking on a little -farther, I saw a little girl who had strayed across the path to look -at a "dolly" which another child was drawing in a little wagon. It was -a wonderful "dolly;" with flaxen curls, and pink boots, and a muslin -dress; and its eyes were closed in slumber, after the fashion of the -doll of the period, while in a recumbent position. Oh! the sweet -little face, as it peered into the tiny wagon, and the precocious -_mother_ look of adoration at the "dolly"! Instantly came darting -after her the Gorgon nurse, and with a smart slap upon her head and a -shake of her little shoulders, till her bright hair flew quite over -the frightened little face, she tore her violently away, and seating -herself upon a bench, where she had been talking with a coarse-looking -man, set the sobbing child so hard upon her knee that I could -distinctly hear it catch its breath. I mention here only these two -instances of brutal treatment, which I could multiply by dozens. Why -do not mothers take pains to follow their nurses occasionally, to see -if all is right with their children when out of doors? And why could -not Mr. Bergh order some _backs_ placed to the torturing benches in -our parks where the little children sit? The Central Park benches are -a good model in this regard, as many a weary pedestrian can testify. -And while he is up there looking at them with a view to this, if he -will just pass under the damp bridges, and rout out those self-same -nurses, who sit there talking with their beaux, instead of taking -their little charges out into the sunshine, and among the flowers, as -they were told to do, _this_ also would be a humanitarian act. - -In fact, _the rich child of the period_ is at present an object for -_his_ especial consideration. Deserted apparently by its natural -protector, the mother, except so far as its dress is concerned, it is -peculiarly helpless and friendless, at least when out of doors. I -speak advisedly; for not a day passes that my blood does not boil at -the cruelty it endures; at the innocent little instincts, for the -gratification of which it is immediately slapped, as if they were -crimes; just as if we should stone a bird for warbling, or a bee for -humming, or a leaf for fluttering in the sweet south wind. - -Oh! the harsh Juggernaut wheel which crushes out all this sweetness -into the dust! - -And what of the _temper_ permanently spoiled and soured by such -roughness and injustice? What of the aching little head, which is -slapped and shaken? What of the tired little feet, while the nurse and -her comrades occupy the seat, and the little ones, forbidden to play, -lean wearily against the nurse's knee, and cry for "mamma"? Surely, -where is mamma? Good Mr. Bergh, do _you_ be the rich children's -"mamma," and let the cat with her "nine lives" look out for herself! - - - - -_A LOOK BACKWARD._ - - -Oh! to be a child again. My only treasures, bits of shell and stone -and glass. To love nothing but maple sugar. To fear nothing but a big -dog. To go to sleep without dreading the morrow. To wake up with a -shout. Not to have seen a dead face. Not to dread a living one. To be -able to _believe_. Does life give us anything, in after years, as -compensation for the lack of all this; I asked, as I watched the busy -little feet about me, never weary of chasing some butterfly of the -minute. But then when this thought overshadowed me it was a blue day. -Things had somehow got "contrary." My shoe might have pinched, or my -belt have been too tight; or I had been up too long without my coffee; -or I had forgotten the touch of my first baby's velvet cheek, or my -mother's praise of my first pie, or my exultation when I cut and -fitted down a carpet all myself, sewing on the thick seams till my -fingers were swollen and sore, because help was not to be had. I -remember, when it was finished, how intensely I admired myself and -that carpet. Then I have strutted round very proudly in dresses of my -own fitting, that "were fits." And once I roasted a piece of beef, and -seasoned it with saleratus, instead of salt; think of the triumph of -that moment! But that was owing to a too-fascinating novel under my -cooking-apron, in a day when novels were forbidden fruit. And once, at -the romantic age of twelve years, I gave a little blue-eyed boy one of -my long, yellow curls, and he threw it in the gutter, and said "he -hated girl's hair," but then another boy was standing by at the time, -and the world's jeer was too much for him; but I may mention in this -connection, that the next handful of "three-cornered nuts" he offered -me, when we were alone, followed that curl into the gutter! - -I have also dim recollections of "seating" a pair of trousers, to see -if I had any undeveloped talent in that line; but I have a lurking -suspicion that I must have interfered with their original shape, for -though my efforts received due commendation, I am confident those -breeches were never worn afterward. But I think my failure came of my -always running away, in my girlhood, whenever the family tailoress -came to reside with us for a period, to make innumerable vests, -jackets, etc., for my little brothers. In revenge she prophesied that, -when I was married, I should have always boys, and be very glad of her -presence. When she learned years after, that I had three _girls_, she -remarked, in a limp and crestfallen state, that "it beat all I should -have my own way _in such a matter as that_!" - -Oh, yes, I suppose there is something to be got out of the world -besides dolls and sugar-candy; but whether it is worth while to go -through all we do to secure it, remains yet the unsolved problem. - -Grown people, doubtless, have their crucifixions. Women, I know, "die -daily." But I am certain, from observation and reflection, that some -children, and very small ones too, suffer quite as much as it is -possible for adults to do. I shall never forget a punishment measured -out to me, when a fat little chub at school. I had committed the -heinous offence of "whispering to one of the boys." I don't recollect -what it was about. I only remember that Georgie smiled kindly at me on -that first terrible day when I took my seat on a narrow bench, without -any back, to "keep very still;" which was then, and is now, the most -fiendish torment that can be devised for me. - -Directly my name was called to "stand up in the middle of the floor." -_His_ name, "Georgie," was also called. With very red faces, out of -which all the smile had gone, we confronted each other. Miss Birch -then turned us back to back, and with a string of twine tied our -elbows together, saying to me as she did so, "Since you like boys, you -shall have enough of 'em." Now Georgie, true to the instincts of his -sex, no sooner felt himself "bound" to the little creature, whom he -the moment before adored, than he began to pull at the cruel string, -till it cut into my fat bare arm, with torturing sharpness; his jacket -sleeve protecting him from the pain he inflicted on me. There we -stood, "the boys" _laughing_ at Georgie. What little man could stand -being "hen-pecked," even at that tender age? For me, I would not have -shed a tear, had he cut my arm in two. I let him pull and tweak, and -bore it with Spartan endurance till our penance was over, and school -was "let out." - -"Did you care?" asked the girls of me, going home. "No," answered I, -huskily, with my chin in the air, twitching nervously at my white -pinafore. I said nothing about it when I got home, but went up garret -to cry it out. That Georgie should have hurt me _on purpose_, when I -was in disgrace! That he should not have walked home with me from -school, as before; or that he--a _boy_--should be "afraid," though a -thousand of "the boys" looked on, to speak to a girl--to speak to -_me_! _His_ reign was over from that moment, spite of his curly black -hair and glittering white teeth. I staid up garret till I had it all -out among the rafters, and then washed my face and went down to my -dinner. - -The next morning I took my satchel and went to school. When I got as -far as the corner of the street, Georgie was there waiting for me. I -didn't see him. I looked straight at the lamp-post. He said softly, -"Sarah!" I didn't hear. I planted my little boots firmly on the -sidewalk and trotted on. He had _not_ been my friend in my trouble. -Failing in _that_, he had failed in everything. This was my first -life-battle. I have had others since, with greater capacity for -suffering; but I thought then, nothing could be worse than little -Georgie's defection. - -One day I was walking, with my two little girls beside me, and met -"Georgie," to whom I had never spoken since our childish falling out. -He was a physician then, in good practice, and as handsome as a man, -as he had been as a child. - -We each laughed, and passed on. For one, I was glad that I was not -"tied" to him, save only for those few moments. - -I may add, however, by way of postscript, that if Miss Birch imagined -that she then and there cured me of "whispering to the boys," it was a -fallacy. - - * * * * * - -Have you a habit of "putting off till a better time"--through an -indolence inexplicable even to yourself--little matters that may seem -trifling, but which you should really consider as tests of character? -To such we say, _fight_ this inclination with a persistent strength -which will take no denial, if you ever wish to be or to accomplish -anything in this world; for rest assured, it is the little fox at the -foot of the vine, which will nibble away till every bud and blossom of -the future shall be covered with mildew and blight. - - - - -_VARIETIES OF HUMAN NATURE._ - - -Show me an "easy person," and I will show you a selfish one. -Good-natured he may be; why not? since the disastrous consequences of -his "easiness" are generally shouldered by other people. He always -"guesses it is all right," though he knows it is all wrong. None so -blind as they who don't wish to see. To right an abuse, is to tread on -somebody's corns, and then that Somebody might turn and tread on his. -For instance, some boys in the street are pelting a poor, drunken -woman. "Well--boys _will_ do such things." He takes a journey with his -family and stops at a hotel in the dog-days, and the hotel clerk -assigns him a room which is right over a fiery kitchen. He "guesses" -there was no other to give; if so, why didn't the clerk say so? That -might possibly do if the clerk didn't _always_ give him the room over -the hotel kitchen. He gets up from his seat in the car to step out -upon the platform; a very _odorous_ individual takes his seat, much to -the disgust of his family. When asked to eject him, he replies, that -he is not sure that the law in such cases is in his own favor; so he -takes another seat, and leaves to them the new and uncongenial -neighbor. The grocer sends him bad butter, instead of the good for -which he bargained; but he thinks it was the grocer's boy who did it, -and that _he_ didn't do it _purposely_, and that he wont do it again. -The milkman overcharges in his bill: well, very likely grass was -scarce, or there was some good reason for it; beside, he can give his -family a dollar or two less, the next time money is wanted,--and it is -always wanted,--and that will make it all square; thus proving the -adage, "that nobody can be generous without doing an injustice to -somebody." Mr. Easy orders a coat; and when it comes home the sleeves -are too short; but he don't like to send it back. He guesses the -cutter understood the order to be just so; besides it is paid for and -settled. Mr. Easy always pays for things before they come home;--he -thinks it looks like distrust of your fellow-creatures if you -don't;--and so he has perpetual short sleeves in his coats, and -perpetually his trousers come home too long in the leg; and his wife -has to keep on fibbing, and tell him they are just right, and it is -the latest fashion; for fear he will ask her, as she goes by the -tailor's store, just to step in and mention it, because _she_ is so -good at such things, you know, and don't mind speaking up; which -accomplishment, desirable as it is, he prefers her to exercise -_outside_ the house; _in_-doors it must be kept in pickle. - -The cook sends up the meat underdone. Mr. Easy remarks, -apologetically, that it was a larger piece than usual; as if just -there, the cook's judgment, if she had any, was not expected to come -in, by putting it on to roast a little earlier, else what is the use -of a cook? - -Now, _Mr._ Easy's wife believes in eternal justice--obedience or the -guillotine. _She_ thinks that the person who, through indolence, -offers a premium for carelessness or incompetency, commits a crime -against society. She believes that he has no right to shirk a -disagreeable duty because it is disagreeable; or because he is lazy, -or because it is pleasant to be popular, and to appear amiable to the -outside world. She believes that executive people are the hinges upon -which alone the world turns--creaking awfully sometimes, it is true, -but, thank God! _turning!_ not _rusting_. She believes in using the -dictionary, and plenty of it, when people need waking up to their -duty; and, this accomplished, she believes in laying it on the shelf -till again called for. A wrong _un_-righted pains _Mrs._ Easy; rouses -her fiery indignation. _Mr._ Easy is never quite sure it _is_ wrong; -and, till he is, it is not necessary, in his opinion, to clear the -deck for action. - -Now, I have no doubt that both styles of persons have their mission in -the world, else they wouldn't be here: I have known wasps and snails -each to have their admirers. Some day I'll write a book of fables for -you, to which Ćsop's shall be no circumstance. - -I wonder is a man justified, to his own conscience or his Maker, in -allowing himself to be so absorbed by "business," beyond what is -necessary to the comfortable support of his family, that he is as much -a stranger to his own wife and children as if he were only a boarder -in the family,--bodily present indeed at two or three meals a day, but -totally ignorant of the ponderosity of the domestic machinery, or at -what cost of health, or mental and moral deterioration, to his wife, -this unrelieved strain is being carried out from day to day. - -Perhaps you will answer, Who is to decide what _is_ "a necessary and -comfortable support for a family"? I can only ask, if there is not a -great wrong unredressed, when a man knows nothing of the different -mental or moral characteristics of the children he has launched into a -world of temptation and trial, and is also quite content to remain -ignorant. I think all intelligent, thinking persons will agree on this -point. Also when a man, professional or other, seldom or never -addresses a word to his wife about anything but the family expenses, -or his favorite mode of cooking any pet article of food. Sure I am -that any wife who is not a hopeless idiot, will chafe under such -treatment, until, at last, her fate being too much for her, mental and -moral deterioration fairly set in, and she hopelessly revolves in her -narrow bounds without even a desire that the children, once so dear to -her, should ever peep over and beyond them. The friends whom she -_might_ and ought to have retained for herself and them, she has -gradually, one by one, lost sight of; her husband being never at home -to care whether they came or stayed away--his interests, and his -friends, being quite separate and apart. Meantime his house shines, -his meals are well prepared, and his "buttons" are in place. - -This picture is not overdrawn. I can produce you its counterparts any -hour in the twenty-four. By and by, the oldest boy outgrows pinafores -and jackets, and steps round in long-tails. No father has been at -hand, to point out the quicksands he should have avoided, or to -encourage him by his sympathy or love to do right. But the devil in -all his Protean shapes _has_ been at his elbow, delighted at that -father's indifference. Presently some wild oat sown, brings to that -home, as yet _publicly_ undisgraced, its full-grown harvest of shame. -_Now_ come storms of reproach, under which the loving mother weeps and -cowers, as if _she_, God help her! were guilty. Alas! and alas! were -such young wayward feet _ever_ turned right by such injudiciousness -and injustice? Does not that boy _know_ that it is the disgrace alone -that father feels, and not the shipwreck of his child's soul? Does -that father say, even to himself, "Oh, Absalom! my son! my son!" Not -at all: he feels only a blind rage, a vexatious thwarting and -hindering of his own affairs, which _his son_ has brought about. - -"_His_ son?" - -It is about the first time he ever regarded him in that relationship. - -There is another kind of father and husband, quite the antipodes of -this. _He_ devotes himself entirely to the domestic side of the -question. He has no "business" to occupy him, nor does he desire to -have. He loves his wife devotedly, and the more children he has the -better he is pleased. Their mother and themselves are enveloped in a -warm atmosphere of love. Never was a harsh, pettish, or fretful word -heard from his amiable lips. He plays with the children all day; he -fixes kites and balls without stint for them; he tends the baby; and -when a crisis comes, and the maid-of-all-work disappears, discouraged -at the eleventh baby, he washes the dishes, if need be, as serenely as -if he were born to it. Meantime these really bright children, loving -and loved, grow apace. The mother is growing old. Love is a good -thing, but there is a far-off questioning look in her gentle eyes, -vainly searching those children's future. _Her_ hands are now -helplessly tied, and she sees no _outward_ tendency toward business in -his. She "loves him"--how can she help it?--_thus far_; but the years -move on so quickly, and her children grow so tall! She remembers sadly -the advantages of education _she_ had, as she looks into the fair -faces of her girls. Ah! how long will she continue to "love" their -father? And how will those children, in after years, gauge that "love" -which placed such obstacles between them and their best advancement? -At what point in their young lives will they, chafing, let go the -irresolute hand, that could only lead them up and down that narrow -garden-path, when the broad highway of development lay in sight, and -untrodden? - -I am fully persuaded that if _even I_ had created human beings, I -couldn't have improved upon the original programme. I used to think -that I should like to sweep the whole pussy-cat tribe of my -fellow-creatures out of existence, with one wave of my wand. I am -convinced now, that as a means of grace, they had better remain. Their -sublime indifference as to the period in which the most momentous -questions are to be settled, is instructive to hurricane natures. The -fatalistic way in which they subside into their own comfortable -chimney-corner, while all the moral elements are in a wild tornado -outside, is calming to the spirit. The placidity with which they can -eat, and sleep, and drink, and be merry, side by side with the corpses -of dead hopes and abortive projects, over which humanity stands -weeping and wringing her hands, is as good as a dose of opium. We look -at them, and, wiping the cold perspiration from our brow, we ask, Is -it possible, then, that we have been lashing ourselves into all this -fury, when there is _really_ to be no shipwreck? _Are_ we really on -the high road to lunacy without knowing it, and in the near proximity -to such sublime self-poise and calmness? We slink into our corner to -reflect; and get that much breathing-time and wind to go at the demon -again. So you see they are of use, as I told you. - -Then there are your critical people, like John Randolph, who actually -stopped his dying, to correct the pronunciation of a friend who was -waiting to close his eyes. So they will stop you in the midst of a -ravishing bit of poetry, or the narration of a story, to dissect the -sentiment of it by some glaring Drummond light, that they keep -remorselessly on hand for such purposes, while you, poor wretch, -dropped suddenly from your sublime height, lose both your place and -your temper. - -Now you can't say this isn't educational. - -Then there is your human chameleon, who takes its color from the last -leaf it feeds on. You quote one of its yesterday-expressed opinions, -with full assurance of faith, as exactly coinciding with your own. Up -comes a third party, and demands how you can so misrepresent the -chameleon's views, because that very day it expressed a totally -different opinion to this third party. You ask the chameleon for an -explanation; when it coolly informs you that consistency is the vice -of little minds; and that to unsay to-day what you said yesterday, is -a proof of progress. You retire with a muttered wish that the -chameleon would furnish you with a pair of seven-league boots, with -which to overtake his "progress." - -Then there is that social wasp, "I told you so;" who, vulture-like, -hovers over the fallen, ready to insert his cruel beak at any sore -place one has made, tripping. The guillotine is nothing to the bits of -quivering flesh _he_ tears out. - -Then there is your routine person, who sneezes precisely at six, and -sits down precisely at seven, and rises precisely at eight, and looks -out of the window precisely at nine, and keeps this up month after -month, and year after year, without the shadow of turning, and in the -teeth of imperative exigencies, and with a stony stoicism, and -pettiness of purpose, which is exasperating enough to bring on a fit -of apoplexy in the beholder. - -Nobody can say that this is not equal to any authorized penance in the -church, to the sufferer, whose blood has not turned to milk and water. -In fact, I have often wondered why our Roman Catholic friends, who -have so many excellencies, need trouble themselves to suggest or -appoint anything of the kind, when life is so full of crosses and -discipline in the raw. When it is so teeming with cross-purposes, that -every person you meet seems obstinately bent either upon forming a -partnership which, like oil and water, will forever be opposed to -mingling, or throwing pebble after pebble into some ocean, expecting -that the little circle it makes, will reach to the farthest shore of -worldly fame or ambition. In fact, when I have visited lunatic -asylums, it has really seemed to me that mad as their inmates -undoubtedly are, there is little need to dissever them from their -comrades on the outside. - -You will perceive from this that I consider life a discipline. _I do._ -No response was ever heartier. When one bubble after another bursts, -this, you see, is a comforting reflection to settle down upon. There -was once a man who read the lists of deaths every day, hoping to see -that of some woman, the whole sisterhood of whom he hated. When he -came to one, he always exclaimed, "Thank God, there's another of 'em -gone!" My moral is obvious. - -Commend me to the person who can say No with a will, when it is -needed; who is not deterred from it for fear of being called -"disagreeable," or "being thought to be always in hot water." Any -water but lukewarm water for me! One of my favorite passages in the -Good Book is this: "I would that thou wert either cold or hot; but -because thou art neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my -mouth." The joke comes in here: that your timid conservative is always -the first to raise the signal of distress on any emergency for the -speedy arrival of "that disagreeable person who is always in hot -water." He likes him marvellously as such crises of his existence? -Now, beyond dispute, everybody likes to travel on a smooth-beaten road -without jolting, if possible; but in order for this, somebody must -make a great turn-over generally, in clearing away the stones that -obstruct it. Now, I consider it a cowardly piece of business for -either man or woman, to travel miles around that road, rather than -take hold and do their fair share of the disagreeable work, either -from indolence, or from fear that they might offend one who might -possibly prefer that the road should remain in its normal condition. -Oh, how glad they are when somebody else has taken this troublesome -pioneership off their shoulders! How they rub their lazy hands, and -smirk, and say, "You see _you_ do these things _so_ well! I never was -constituted for it"! Which translated, means, that they prefer -sacrificing a principle to sacrificing their ease or popularity; as if -anybody liked to keep all the time fighting--as if other people didn't -love ease too! - - - - -"_A GOOD MISTRESS ALWAYS MAKES A GOOD SERVANT._" - - -Now I beg leave to place a very sizable interrogation-point just here; -at any rate, until I receive an intelligible definition of "a good -mistress." A servant's definition of one, in these days, is, "A lady -who never comes down-stairs, poking her nose into things;" one who -never is so "mean" as to calculate the time that elapses since the -last batch of tea, coffee, sugar, or flour was bought, and the -possibility, when these stores run short of their proper limit, that -they have not been applied wholly to the use of the family. "A good -mistress," to their idea, is one who is totally oblivious as to the -time the gas is turned off at night, in the lower part of the house, -or whether, indeed, it is turned off at all, or how many superfluous -burners are constantly swelling up the gas-bill, where one would -answer the purpose. "A good mistress," in servants' parlance, is one -who scorns to look after any amount of chicken, or turkey, or beef, -which may not be all eaten the first time it is set upon the table, -and who will cheerfully purchase steaks for breakfast instead. "A good -mistress," with many of them, is one who, beside paying good wages, -gives them half-worn clothes enough to enable them to spend their -money in other directions, and who yet is willing that these clothes -should be worn only when they go out visiting, while they are -constantly untidy at work. - -"A good mistress," with the master of the house, is one who is just -the reverse of all this. She is one who is constantly fighting waste -and unnecessary outlay, and stupidity, and ignorance, and obstinacy, -and impertinence, and unthrift. She is one who, with a constant -panorama of Bridgets, and Betseys, and Marys, and Sallys, through her -lower domains, at the expense of her own strength, and patience, and -temper, and brain, and with no prospect of an end to the same until -intelligence-offices contain more intelligence, is yet perfectly -seraphic at the idea of being at the head of a training-school for -servants, the remainder of her natural life; and smiles constantly at -the same time under reminders of the necessity of greater economy in -the household department. This is the husband's idea of "a good -mistress." - -Now I maintain that, with the present _average_ material, ever so good -a mistress, with the best intelligence and intentions, cannot "make a -good servant." _Passable_ they may be; but not "_good_." - -The truth is--_brain_ is wanted to make a good servant; and at present -there is only muscle. Hence our gas is half turned off. Hence our -water is wholly turned _on_, till a flood comes. Hence bits of stick -and string and dirt are thrown into pipes--for the benefit of the -plumber, and the depletion of our pockets. Hence the devil is to pay -generally, till the distracted good lady of the house considers it the -last drop in the bucket, when "her Sam" or John is unreasonable enough -to expect her, with such brainless material, to present him with -workmanlike results. - -In America, the word "servant" is hateful to them; they much prefer -the word "domestic" to express the same idea. Every servant in -America, with few exceptions, dresses to suit herself; and a very bad -thing she generally makes of it. Some few families insist on the -muslin cap for their "nurses," and the regulation black dress and -white apron. But this dress is obnoxious to the majority of servants; -nor do I, for one, blame them for it. A most excellent colored woman, -in a family of my acquaintance, whose Northern mistress had purchased -her freedom before the war, and who was beloved by every member of the -family, refused to wear the colored turban-handkerchief at request of -her mistress, who had a taste for the picturesque in costume, saying, -with much spirit, "I cannot do it, madam,--not even for you;--it is -hateful to me; it is the badge of the servitude I suffered so much -under." Of course, she was excused. - -Now I can understand why so few servants, in this country, white or -black, are willing to wear anything that bears the interpretation of -"a livery." At the same time, there is hardly a housekeeper or -mistress in the land who is not annoyed by the big hoop, and the long -dress, which knocks over articles, and catches in doors, and trips up -the unlucky wearer in doing her housework, or waiting on table. - -Of course, if she understood managing her crinoline as she moved -about, as does her "mistress," these things might not happen; but she -does not; and it is the biggest and stiffest that she can find that -she generally prefers and wears. This is unfortunate for another -reason; because it often exposes dilapidated and soiled underclothing, -and a very questionable state of shoe and stocking. That her mistress, -though cleanly, often dresses in questionable taste, both as regards -the adaptability of her dress to the state of her husband's purse, and -the artistic selection of colors, does not make these glaring mistakes -of her servants less palpable, or less injurious to the servant's -morality; for where the passion for show, joined to narrow means, -effaces that of decency and cleanliness, the downward road to ruin, -for a woman in any station, is already entered upon. It needs only a -very slight impetus to determine the final result. - -Alas! the showy bonnet and gay dress, which must be had by cook or -chamber-maid, although they have not a decent change of underclothing, -or a whole pair of stockings, a warm shawl, or a pair of -India-rubbers, or the least hint of flannel for cold weather! Now, -they "have a right," as they say, so to expend their wages, if they -choose. They have a right also to languish on a hospital bed, among -strangers, when sickness and poverty overtake them. _But is it wise?_ - -In England, the dress of servants has not hitherto, as I understand -it, been a matter of choice to them. I know of an English lady who, -not long since, forbade her nurse to wear a dress, which the latter -had purchased, because it was like that which one of her own children -wore. Servants, in England, have leaped over this form of restriction, -it would seem. Among the "reforms" now proposed, there is one -respecting domestic servants, whose extravagance in dress, whose -depravity of morals, and unreliability of conduct is, they say, -becoming "unendurable." A clergyman's wife has started a reform -movement, and calls upon the ladies of England to help her carry it -out. She proposes "that no servant, under pain of dismissal, shall -wear flowers, feathers, brooches, buckles, or clasps, ear-rings, -lockets, neck-ribbons, velvets, kid gloves, parasols, sashes, jackets, -or trimming of any kind, on dresses, and, above all, no _crinoline_. -No pads to be worn, or frizettes, or chignons, or hair ribbons. The -dress is to be gored, and made just to touch the ground, and the hair -to be drawn closely to the head, under a round, white cap, without -trimming of any kind. The same system of dress is recommended for -Sunday-school girls, school-mistresses, church-singers, and _the lower -orders generally_." I think "the Sunday-school girls, church-singers, -school-mistresses, _and lower orders," in America, generally_, would -have to undergo a most wonderful _peeling_, according to this -programme! I think an American "servant" would scarcely be content to -be deprived of her "parasol," of a hot Sunday, when she went to -church. - -No, no, ladies; that's not the way to do it; not even in England, -where flunkeys abound. The "lower orders" are waking up there, thank -God! and I hope, to their best interests. True, it is mournful to see -all a servant's wages on her head, in the shape of a gay dress-bonnet. -I hate it; but I hate it for her own sake, because she needs so many -comfortable things that the sum so expended would buy. And I hate, -just as much, to see her mistress in a velvet cloak, which represents -all her husband's earnings for one month, while there is a shabby -carpet on her front entry or chamber, and "nicked" cups and saucers on -her table. In fact, I think, that while the _parlor_ sets so bad an -example, the _kitchen_ will never be swept with a clean broom. - - - - -_THE MOTHER-TOUCH._ - - -How soon the house shows its absence! How little the lack of her -executive watchfulness is realized till, like her plants that droop -for want of water, everything about the house has somehow a wilted -look! For was it not "mother" who moved about, instinctively placing a -bright-colored vase just where the light would most effectually fall -on it, and raised a curtain, or drew it aside, from the same artistic -impulse?--who opened a window here or closed it there, just at the -right moment, to make the temperature of the house agreeable?--who, -passing into one room, straightened a cloth that was ever so little -awry upon the table, or put out of the way some carelessly placed -footstool, over which some stranger foot might have stumbled; or put -sofas and chairs in such neighborly and comfortable proximity, that it -was really quite wonderful how they could help carrying on a -conversation with each other? - -Was it not "mother," who, seating herself at the table, saw on the -instant if the proper geographical positions of the dishes were -respected? And did she not, how weary soever with her frittering life -of detail, see to it that the unities were harmoniously preserved, in -spite of Erin's unteachable proclivities to the contrary, and all with -a glance of her eye, or a whispered word, or a touch of her magic -finger-tips? - -And the children! The button is never missing at the throat of the -little garment, where insidious croup essays to creep in. The tiny -mittens are nicely mended, and no shoulder-strap is so tight as to -impede motion or cut the tender skin, till the justly irritated child -gets a boxed ear at school, which should by right have been -administered to the person who planned and put on its abominable -clothes--ruffled, mayhap, and embroidered, but ill-fitting, and -rasping as the hair-cloth shirt of the devotee. And who but "mother" -remembers whether "that poor child ate any breakfast this morning," or -needs the intervening and comforting bit of bread and butter, for lack -of which, again, its ears are unjustly boxed at school? And does she -not plan her "shopping" and "calling," so that when the little ones -come back from school or play, the house may not seem empty, who else -soever may be there, because "_mother_" is out? No little nose in -_her_ house is flattened on the window-pane, hour after hour, watching -for the presence, which alone fills the house with sunshine--settles -all grievances, or else kisses them away; and always for the tired -little feet substitutes soft slippers in lieu of the heavy boots. And -who, at night, bathes the heated forehead and flushed face, and cools -off the little hands before they are folded to say, "Now I lay me," -and leaves a kiss on lips that falter with sleep at the last unsaid -syllable, for it may be that in this world it will never be finished. -"Mother" thinks of that. - -And now, "_mother_" is "gone"! Oh, how much is in that little word? -There is a "body" down-stairs, but that soon will go too. For the -grown people it leaves behind, there may be solace, but, alas for the -little child, who cannot comprehend why, when mother is "down-stairs," -she can at the same time be "gone"!--who knows not how, from that -narrow grave, she can "get up" to the far heaven, where they say she -had flown. Alas for the little child who now is overloaded with -clothing when it is warm, and has on far too little when it is needed; -who goes hungry when food is imperative, and is overfed when digestion -clamors for a respite; who breathes all night an already exhausted -atmosphere, and sits perhaps in a deadly draught next morning! The -little child who touches "mother's" work-box, and "mother's" desk, and -"mother's" dresses, but never can find _her!_ who goes to sleep with a -sigh in place of a smile, and wakes up to a lonely house though filled -with voices! In all the wide world there is never so empty a spot as -that little heart. - -And what a void is left when it is the little one who goes! "Say -something to comfort you for the loss of your little one." This is -what you asked of me. Nothing I could say _now_, my friend, would -comfort you, because you are stunned, and must have time to lift your -head and look about you. _Then_ you will see myriads of little graves -beside your own darling's, and myriads of mothers who have passed -through the same Gethsemane, where you are now weeping tears of blood. -Each of those mothers has cried out like yourself, "What sorrow was -ever equal to my sorrow?" What is that to me? you ask. Listen. Many of -these mothers are now thanking God, every day of their lives, that -their little ones are safe from the fearful earthly storms that have -since come with desolating sweep over their hearthstones. Humbly they -say, "Ah! I little knew, though my Maker did, when he folded my baby -safely to His protecting breast, what was in the future." Well, some -day _you_ too will cease to weep--growing unselfish--and reaching -forth further each day your supplicating hands towards that heavenly -home where there shall be "no more death." Having your treasure there, -there will be your heart also. Said a sweet young mother to me, "Once -I used to cry always, at twilight, that I must some day die. Now that -my baby is gone, death has no terrors for me, for there I shall be -happy with her again--and _forever_." - -Let those who can, rob her of this her beautiful faith. When the sun -shines only on the graves wept over by _others_, they can stand erect -and say, "This world is good enough for me. I don't want any better." -But see, if with the first falling clod on some dear, cold, still -breast, "_My_ God!" will not come as involuntarily to their lips as -"Mother!" to the little child's, when pain overtakes it away from her -protecting side. - -The shining lock, the little shoe--my friend, it is long years since I -shed a tear over mine--I can take them out of their wrappings in my -hand, and smile to think that I am so far on my journey that I shall -soon see my little one face to face. _Whether she or I will be the -child_ when we meet again, God only knows; or, what heavenly mysteries -I shall learn, kneeling at my baby's feet, I cannot tell; but this I -know, by the kisses I have given many a little face since she died, -for _her_ dear sake, that a mother's love was meant to reach far -beyond the grave. - - * * * * * - -The bits of conversation one hears in the street, are often very -suggestive. Said a gentleman the other day: "It appears to me, that -the women of to-day are excellent in every department, but that of -_wives_." It occurred to us, that if this were true, what a comment it -was on the stupidity and bad management of the general husband. If in -every other relation of life, woman does excellently well, why should -she not do well in _this_? - - - - -_SOME GOSSIP ABOUT MYSELF._ - - -First--my unfortunate NOSE! I think life would be a different thing to -me had I no nose. When you consider that there are twenty disagreeable -odors to one sweet one, you will be at no loss to understand my -meaning; and yet, after all, when we come to definitions, your -_pleasant_ smell might be a very noisome one to me. Your tobacco, sir, -for instance; or your "patchoule," madam, or your musk. Then turnips, -or cabbage, in process of cooking, may not cause _you_ to throw -up--the window! Beefsteak smoke, or mutton-chop smoke, or -buckwheat-cake smoke, may render _you_ quite happy in prospect, while -I only sigh for that far-off millennium when cooking shall be -inodorous. Stay! I meant to except coffee. Hail coffee--_rain_ coffee, -if you will. Ah! I would keep a perpetual pot of coffee steaming on my -kitchen range. Tea smells nice and tastes well, I suppose, to its -lovers, for whom I have little respect. In truth, when I reflect how -my nose curtails my daily bill of fare, I am lost in wonder, and my -butcher no doubt also marvels at its monotony. The whole family of -_Frys_, for instance, except a gentleman I once knew of that name, -are odious to my olfactories. - -In the millennium I speak of, no cook will allow a bone to be singed -on the fire, or milk to boil over upon the stove; for let her know -that up three, four, yea, five pair of stairs, I shall immediately be -apprised of the same by this my watchful member. Let her not dream -that her cousin, or uncle, or male "follower" of any degree, can -smoke, or even light his pipe, in the kitchen, without giving me an -impulse toward the bell-wire. Let no grocer boy or ice-man fondly hope -to retain the celestial spark, while he briefly deposits his wares in -my kitchen; and if Terence O'Flaherty thinks he can shovel coal into -my cellar and smoke at the same time, although I may be knee-deep in -an "article" at the top of the house, Terence has reckoned without his -host-ess. - -I know you are sorry for me. I am sorry for myself, because it is -obvious that forty times a day I must suffer nasal crucifixion. I get -a comfortable seat in church, or concert-room, or lecture-hall. In -comes Apollo, and sits down at my elbow, in that close, unventilated -place, and finishes the process of strangulation, with dead tobacco -smoke in his clothes and hair. I am quite willing some other lady -should admire him. - -But there is a bright side to this nose question. I defy you, who -don't mind tobacco, or the odor of a cooking cabbage, which is much -the same thing, to revel in a rose, or violet, or lily, or a sprig of -heliotrope, or mignonette, as I shall. I defy you to go into a wood -after a rain, and detect, as I shall, every delicate and individual -odor; from the scores of little unseen flowers hiding away under roots -of trees, and in patches of moss, and in crevices of old gray rocks. -_There_--I have the better of you, for that too brief heaven. - -Alas! I am very unfortunate. There are my _ears_, too. The squeaking -of a door, the drumming of idle fingers on a table, or tapping of idle -feet on the floor, the scraping of a knife on a bad pencil-point, the -clipping of one's finger-nails with scissors, the continuous biting of -an apple in my presence, the humming of the same idle tune, the sharp -winding of a clock or watch--I fear you will cease to respect me when -I say that I have meditated murder in "the first degree" for the -perpetrators thereof. - -If it is any palliation of my crime that I am cold from head to foot -when I hear sweet music; or that the trill of a little bird sends a -tear to my eyes and a prayer to my lips, I confess also to this -weakness. I am quite willing, too, you should ask, as does Mr. Smith, -fifty times a week, "Fanny do you think there ever _was_ a woman born -into the world exactly like _you_?" whatever condemnation that -question may imply for me or--the rest of my sex. - -It is said that a certain great statesman, owed much of his popularity -to the fact, that he never forgot the _name_ of a person out of the -thousands who had been presented to him, and would always in shaking -hands say, "I recollect you perfectly; I saw you in such a year, at -such a place, on such an occasion." Of course, his constitutent, from -the village of Frogtown, was immensely flattered, and went home -satisfied that there must be something remarkable about him, which he -had never before found out, that he had made so indelible an -impression on so great a man, with such a press of public care and -business; and didn't this statesman get _his_ constitutent's votes and -good words after that? - -Now it is very certain _I_ never should do for a statesman, -notwithstanding my very palpable qualifications apart from this. -I--who persisted for months in calling Mr. Smith Mr. De Peyster -although little pieces of flesh were nipped out of my arms by dismayed -friends, and my toes were trodden on, till there was great danger I -should be crippled for life. - -But my last hope was shivered the other day, upon reading, in a public -print, that not only was a person unfit for society, who could not -remember the _names_ of those to whom he had been presented, but that -if he had failed to pronounce that name in the manner the happy owner -of it preferred, it was a mark of low-breeding. - -Well, if it has come to that, the question is what is to become of me? -I have done my best, when I am pulled and twitched, to bow and smile -in the direction indicated; but it is a miserable failure. I know it. -I _always_ look the wrong way; I frown at my best friends, and smile -idiotically--to order--on Shem, Ham, and Japheth. I hand a ten-dollar -bill to pay for twenty-five cents' worth of hair-pins, and go out -forgetting my change. I go into the next store, and make a purchase of -a stranger, and depart without alluding in any way to the -remuneration: and when he follows me to the door and meekly inquires -my name and address, I ask him with the dignity becoming a wife and -matron and a grandmother, what business that is of _his_? Last week it -rained, and I left my domicile with an umbrella in _each_ hand. -Yesterday I went out with only one India-rubber shoe on, and feeling -cold in the neglected foot, remarked to my companion that I thought -one of my India-rubbers must have a hole in it to let in the water so -badly. It is very trying to listen, at such a crisis, to the indignant -and oft-repeated query, "_Are_ you going mad?" but I have to endure -it, and, what is worse, I have the sorrowful consciousness of -deserving it. - -What troubles me most is, whether I am to pay six cents for car-fare -and ten cents for omnibus, or six cents for car and five for omnibus. -Also, what that gentleman thought of me who was polite enough to hand -up my fare, when, upon presenting me the change, I told him that I had -no occasion for charity. I think the driver was to blame there, in -allowing ten minutes to elapse before making change, during which I -sunk into my customary stupor. - -It is useless to enumerate the gloves I have worn in public places, -where the curious spectacle has been presented by the glare of -gas-light, of one _black_ hand and one _green_ one; and, more -marvellous still, when this aberration has been intensified by both -green and black for the _same_ hand. - -I have requested my "keepers," when my madness reaches indisputable -lunacy, to pad the walls of my room, and turn the key on me there, -instead of transferring me to a Lunatic Asylum; where my superior and -unapproachable idiocy would so excite the envy of the other inmates, -that my life might be the forfeit. In the meantime, any of my friends -who are shedding salt tears that I have not noticed them, or if any -who are _not_ friends are bristling with indignation because I _have_, -are requested, one and all, to pity my unhappy condition and pass me -by. - -The solution of all this is, that I have a new book in press. That the -_proofs_ of the same are sent to snarl me up late in the evening, just -before I go to sleep. That beside this, I am writing--well, you'll see -what, by and by. That I have had sickness in the house for six weeks. -That I am house-keeper. That I have scores of letters to read and -answer; and that I have a little duck of a grandchild, who every hour -or two wants me "to tell her a story that is _new_ and _true_." Am I -excused? - -Shall I relate my first theft? Well, I had bought a new muff; that is -nothing surprising in a city where women trim their dresses with -diamonds. But there is a story to that muff. With a wholesome horror -of _female_ shoplifters, I had attached to it a silk cord, which I -could pass over my neck; thus placing beyond their reach the -temptation to appropriate it, should I lay it down temporarily on some -counter, while shopping. Thus armed, I went forth. - -Well, as I say, thus armed, I went out to buy some little matters -needed in my household. After paying for them, I took a muff from the -counter before me, placed my hands in it, and pursued my journey. I -had not proceeded more than a block, before a bare-headed clerk came -rushing after me, jostling the crowd on either side, and placing his -hands as I thought very familiarly on my muff, took it from me, -remarking as he did so, "By your leave, madam," and disappeared with -it, instanter. I looked about me for a policeman, when just then my -hand became entangled in the string around my neck. Good heavens! I -had then taken some other lady's muff from the counter! I had walked -out with _two_ muffs. One about my neck, one in my hands. I did not -pursue my search for that policeman. I was also seized with such a -violent fit of laughter at the ludicrousness and novelty of my -position, that I was quite incapable of locomotion. - -Just then I met a lady friend, to whom I told the story, as well as my -frequent bursts of merriment permitted. She looked as solemn as a -hearse; she said sepulchrally, "How _can_ you laugh? I should have -died with mortification." And the more solemn she looked the more I -laughed, and I haven't done laughing yet, although it was three days -ago. I am at present looking for the finale--viz., my picture in the -Rogue's Gallery as an accomplished female shoplifter. I may have -stolen other things, but, upon my word, this is the first time I ever -stole a muff. It was so comical, that if a station-house had been my -portion I know I should have laughed all the same; besides, I always -wanted to see a station-house. I might possibly have preferred riding -there _in a carriage_, if the policeman in attendance had no -objection, or if the walking was bad, or it stormed! - -Finally, my brethren, a correspondent inquires how I look? Am I tall? -have I dark, or light complexion? and what color are my eyes? - -I should be very happy to answer these questions, did I know myself. I -proceed to explain why I cannot tell whether "I be I." - -First--one evening I was seated at the opera, waiting patiently for -the performances to begin. In two orchestra chairs, directly in front -of me, sat a lady and gentleman, both utter strangers to me. Said the -_gentleman_ to his companion, "Do you see the lady who has just -entered yonder box?" pointing, as he did so, to the gallery; -"well, that is FANNY FERN."--"You know her, then?" asked the -lady.--"Intimately," replied this strange gentleman--"_intimately_. -Observe how expensively she is dressed. See those diamonds, and that -lace! Well, I assure you, that every cent she has ever earned by her -writings goes straightway upon her back." Naturally desiring to know -how I did look, I used my opera-glass. The lady was tall, handsome, -graceful, and beautifully dressed. The gentleman who accompanied me -began to grow red in the face, at the statement of my "intimate" -acquaintance, and insisted on a word with him; but the fun was too -good to be spoiled, and the game too insignificant to hunt; so, in -hope of farther revelations, I laughingly observed my "double" during -the evening, who looked as I have just described, for your benefit. - -Again--in a list of pictures announced to be sold lately, was one -labelled "Fanny Fern." Having lost curiosity concerning that lady -myself, I did not go on a tour of inspection; but a gentleman friend -of mine who did, came back in high glee at the manner in which the -purchaser thereof, if any should be found, would be swindled--as "I -was _not_ I" in that case either. - -Some time ago "Fanny Fern" was peddled round California, or at least, -so I was informed by letter. In this instance they had given her, by -way of variety, black eyes and hair, and a brunette complexion. I -think she was also taken smiling. A friend, moreover, informed me that -he had seen me, with an angelic expression, seated upon a rosy cloud, -with wings at my back. This last fact touched me. Wings are what I -sigh for. It was too cruel a mockery. - -You will see from the above, how impossible it is, for such a -chameleon female, to describe herself, even to one "who likes my -writings." If it will throw any light on the subject, however, I will -inform you that a man who got into my parlor under cover of -"New-Year's calls," after breathlessly inspecting me, remarked, "Well, -now, I _am_ agreeably disappointed! I thought from the way you -_writ_, that you were a great six-footer of a woman, with snapping -black eyes and a big waist, and I _am_ pleased to find you looking so -soft and so femi_nine_!" - -I would have preferred, had I been consulted, that he should have -omitted the word "soft;" but after the experiences narrated above, -this was a trifle. - - * * * * * - -A gentleman requested me not long since "to rebuke those men who did -not rise, when ladies entered a car, and give them a seat." Now this -would come with a bad grace from me, for the reason that I never enter -a full car without having this politeness extended to me. But mind -this, ladies, I never yet forgot to thank the man, as prettily as my -knowledge of such things serves me, for such a gracious act, and -perhaps that is the explanation. At any rate, I have been so disgusted -with the reverse, that I more often wondered that men _do_ get up, -than that they _don't_. I think ladies, too, should not _exact_ such -courtesy by look, or word, or manner, as I have often seen them do. I -find American men most courteous, most obliging to our sex. Now and -then one meets a bear. To such, a woman must of course give a wide -berth, unless she has a muzzle in the shape of a "protector" handy. - - - - -_HOSPITALITY._ - - -If each person were asked to define this word, the answers would be -amusing. Emerson says "that we should not turn away wholly from the -routine of our daily life to make our guests welcome." He says "that -every one worthy to sit at our table knows that life has its necessary -duties; and that we should not burden our friends with the thought -that our business is suffering derangement and loss by their coming." - -This is common-sense; but if we measure the majority of people by it, -then few "_are_ worthy to sit at one's table." It may be because -insincerity is so much the order of the day, that each so distrusts -the other that a person cannot say frankly to a friend, without giving -offence, I would be glad to stay longer with you, or have you stay -longer, but I really cannot now. A lady said to me, not long since, "I -never dare say truthfully that I am 'engaged' when a caller comes, no -matter how impossible circumstances make it for me to go down. If I -do, it always offends. Therefore I am obliged to send word that I am -out; then the caller leaves without any wound to his self-love." Now -this ought not to be. A straightforward honesty is much better. But -there are so many inconsiderate people, who, provided they gain their -point to see you, care little at what sacrifice on your part of time, -or at what postponement of imperative duties. _They_ have time enough. -So much that they are even puzzled what to do with it; how can it be -that _you_ have none, or so little, at the service of friends? They -cannot comprehend that one's duty, or one's labor, may tread so -closely on the heels of the other, that your remaining vitality needs -the most careful nursing and division to keep your steps from _final_ -faltering. What is to be done with such rhinoceros-hided people as -these? You feel no unkindness toward them; but, like the beggar that -accosts you on the last of many curb-stones, you have simply parted -with all your pennies. Your pocket is empty. - -I recollect once a lady in the same house with me, to whom I -apologized as civilly as I knew how for being obliged to leave her to -write a promised article. She bowed coolly, and, on my leaving the -room, said to a friend of mine, "I suppose she did that to get rid of -me, don't you?" - -It is much easier to get along with men, because _they_ can understand -that life has its unpostponable duties, without any lifting of -eyebrows or incredulous shrugging of shoulders, or a cool salute the -next time you two meet. The intercourse of one man with another in -this regard has always elicited my admiration. They take up a -newspaper or a book, and read in each other's presence, with a tacit -understanding of its perfect propriety. If one has to leave, he often -says no more than "I'm off," or "Good-by, old fellow." Sometimes it is -only a touch of the hat, or a hand laid on the other's shoulder in -passing; and no black eyes follow, no locks of hair fly, nor do any -hard words or looks result in the future. - -If ladies smoked,--which the gods forbid!--do you suppose one lady -would allow another to stop her in the street and light a cigar from -her lips, when she _never was introduced_? When she didn't even know -who her dress-maker was, or where she bought her bonnets? Good -heavens! - -Did you ever notice, if anything unexpected occurs in the mutual path -of men through the same street, how naturally and frankly they accost -each other, though perfect strangers, and converse about it, and go -their several ways, to their tombstones, after it. Not so sweet woman! -Catch _her_ speaking to "that nasty thing"! How does _she_ know who or -what she is? - -Children are so delicious about these matters. I saw two little girls -the other day trying to crack a nut upon the sidewalk, by pressing in -turn their tiny little shoes upon it. Despairing of success, they said -to a gentleman passing, "Man, man, crack this nut for us, will you?" -His handsome face was luminous with fun, as he pressed his polished -boot down upon it, to the delight of the youngsters and myself. Now -these little girls wouldn't have thought of asking a lady to do that, -or if they had, do you think she would have stopped to do it? - - - - -_WOMAN AND HER WATCH._ - - -This unnatural partnership is well understood, both by watchmakers and -husbands. Who among the latter has not had occasion to mourn, seventy -times seven, that he was ever such an idiot as to present his wife -with a watch? Of what use was it, when fastening it to her belt, in -its pristine glitter and correctness, that he remarked, with uplifted -finger, "Here, my dear, be sure and remember to wind this up regularly -every night when you take it off." Of what use was it that she -bristled up, and retorted, "As if I shouldn't remember that, John, you -goose!" - -Didn't John himself, after she crept into bed, that very night, ask -her had she done it; and didn't she guiltily reply, dodging the -question, "Don't bother me, John, just as I am getting sleepy!" And -didn't it run down? And didn't he face her up, the next day, with the -face of that watch behind time, at the same moment showing her -reproachfully the immaculate time-piece in his vest-pocket, which -never erred, or varied from the path of strict duty, no more than one -of his relatives! And wasn't she glad, when a pickpocket in a -street-car, shortly after, relieved her husband of this finger-post to -her transgressions! Besides, suppose her watch were a little before -or behind time, or suppose it stopped altogether, for the matter of -that; wasn't it _her_ watch, I'd like to know; and didn't his -jurisdiction over it stop when it became such? And didn't she, at -last, get so mad at his asking her every night, when they got into -bed, if it was wound up, that she let it alone from sheer perversity, -and never pretended to prevaricate on the subject, but "riz" right up -in bed, when he asked her the question, and answered boldly, "No, it -isn't!" - -And how impertinent it was of the watchmaker, when, after frequent -aberrations from duty, she carried secretly this little trinket to get -it repaired, to ask what she had been doing to it; or to laugh, with -_his_ necessary knowledge of watches and women, when she replied, "I -only dropped it on the hearth." But watchmakers are often -husbands--and when you've seen one husband, you've seen the whole -tribe--always asking you what you've done, and then scolding you for -doing it; thus offering you a premium for lying the next time they -propose such a meddling question. - -Do they tell "what they have been doing"? I rather think there'd be -pulling of hair if they did. Then what right have they to catechize -us? - -Now I ask any candid person if a lady's watch don't _look_ just as -prettily in her belt, whether it "goes" or not? And can't she always -ask her husband what time it is? And isn't he a brute and a bear, if -he growls at telling her, even supposing he has given her a watch to -obviate that necessity? I'm sure nothing could be plainer; and I hope -nobody will say, after this, that a woman can't reason. Besides, what -right has a lazy animal like man to expect anything perpetually to -"go"? Don't _he_ lay off, on every convenient chance? Isn't he always -prefacing and winding up everything with "Be quiet"? Of course he is. -Every wife from Maine to Florida knows that. I tell you they expect -too much from women and their watches, and it's high "time" they knew -it, and got used to having both run like fury one minute, and stand -still the next. - - * * * * * - -Will people who attend lectures and concerts cease drumming with their -fingers on the back of seats, or with canes or feet on the floor, till -the services begin? One cannot help remarking, in such vicinity, how -few persons are really well-bred. Dress certainly is no indication of -it, judged by this rule. If a tattoo must be performed, why not go out -in the lobby or vestibule, and have the war-dance out? This thing has -come to be such an intolerable nuisance, that the paradoxical -regulation, "No _gentlemen_ are allowed to smoke in the ladies' -cabin," may as well be imitated by--"No _gentleman_, in a concert or -lecture-room, is allowed to drum on the back of a lady's chair before, -or after, or during the entertainment." - - - - -"_MY DOCTOR._" - - -You have one, of course; and of course he never opens his mouth -without dropping pearls. (I hope the printer will not print this last -word _pills_.) _Your_ doctor believes in flannel next the skin, all -the year round. Mrs. Jones' doctor, who "knows much more than your -doctor," thinks that a person of discretion may occasionally, in the -dog-days, lay flannel on the shelf and no coffin be imminent. _Your_ -doctor says that young children's necks and shoulders should always be -covered, even in warm weather. Mrs. Smith's doctor, who, she says, -"stands at the head of his profession" says that is all nonsense, and -that children should go through a toughening process, which will -render changes of temperature harmless. _Your_ doctor advises you -never to cross the street, or go down-stairs, unless accompanied by -quinine. Mrs. Smith's doctor tells her if she wants poison she had -better get ratsbane, and then she will know what she is swallowing. - -Now each of you believe that "_my_ doctor" is infallible; that is a -great comfort to you, and very satisfactory to them, especially -pocket-wise. "My doctor" hasn't dealt with women so long, and failed -to see their blind side. He knows what "brutes" husbands are, and how -like flints they will oppose the sea-shore, merely because their wives -want to go there. What is the use of "my doctor," unless he comforts -you under this affliction, and declares that to be the only place -where you can regain your lost appetite? No wonder you like him; no -wonder life is a blank to you when his carriage is not before your -door. There is healing in the very sight of his beard and moustache; -and how much handsomer they are than the "brute's." Ah! had you met -"my doctor" years ago, you say; not stopping to reflect, that in that -case he would have been attending women who paid fees, and left you, -his wife, to some medical friend for pills and consolation. It is -better as it is, you see. Well, it _is_ comforting "that he -understands you better than anybody else, and seems to know just what -you want." And then he shows such an absorbing interest in your -symptoms, that you almost feel cured by his sympathy alone, before you -swallow a single powder; and, since my ears are out of your reach, I -will remark, that well you may, when, half the time, nothing in the -world ails you but the want of some absorbing occupation or interest. -Colored water and bread pills are safe prescriptions for that -complaint; meantime it wont hurt the "brute" to pay for the wear and -tear of the doctor's carriage in coming and going. If "my doctor" -laughs in his sleeve, occasionally, when he thinks what funny -creatures women are, you are none the wiser or the angrier for it. He -don't dislike, after all, their little cuddlesome, trusting, confiding -ways; possibly not so much as his wife does, whose acquaintance you -had better not make. As I before remarked, his medical friends can -take care of her; it is no business of yours, her disgusting ails and -aches. - -But what a thing it is when "my doctor" was also "_ma's doctor_"! If -he don't know all the ins and outs, then "may the divel fly away -wid--him!" - -The moral of all this is, that "my doctor's" life is not without its -consolations, and the most astonishing part of it is, that husbands -are so blear-eyed to this subject. It wont harm them to hint that in -sympathy and courteousness they had better not present too sharp a -contrast to "my doctor." - - - - -_A WOMAN AT A LECTURE._ - - -If you want to see a woman act more like a goose than she need, watch -her when she enters a place of public performance, where the seats are -at the mercy of first-comers. Notice her profound survey of the -situation, as she stands, preceding her John, who is supposed to know -nothing about such things, poised on one foot, while she measures -distances, drafts, and acoustics with the eye of a connoisseur. Now -she decides! At last she swoops down on _the_ seat in all the house -which she prefers. John follows, with the shawl and family umbrella. -He faintly suggests the possible obstruction of a pillar between the -seat she has chosen and the speaker, but he follows. Directly she is -seated, and the shawl and umbrella located without inconvenience to -themselves, or infringement of the comfort of their neighbors, when -she coolly remarks, "John, 'tis true, that pillar _is_ right between -me and the speaker." John's ears redden; but he is in public, so he -don't say, "Didn't I tell you so?" but rises with shawl and umbrella, -the former catching by the fringe on every seat as he passes, and the -latter slipping to the floor while he tries to disentangle the shawl. -Meantime my lady is on her triumphal march for that "best seat." - -Now she alights! It wont do. There's a tall man in front of her; she -is always fated to sit behind a tall man. She tries another; there's -the phantom pillar again. Yet another; that's the end seat, and every -horrid man that comes along will be treading on her dress and knocking -her bonnet over her eyes all the evening. Meantime John gets redder in -the face; he can't even ease himself with a customary growl. Ah! now -she has got the seat at last, and stands beckoning to John to follow. -Her friend Miss Frizzle is beside her, and she is happy. There is only -one seat, to be sure, but "John can find one somewhere else, or -perhaps he would like to take a walk outside and call for her when -lecture is over--only he must be sure to be back in time." So down she -sits, while John wanders off for a possible stray seat. Now she draws -off the glove that hides her one diamond ring, and settles the -bracelet on the wrist of that hand. Then she tumbles up her front -hair, lest it might have got smooth coming. Then she picks out the -bows of the natty little ribbon under her dimpled chin. It was that -chin that victimized John! Then she draws from her pocket her scented -pocket-handkerchief and gives it a little incense-waft into the air, -magnetizing a young man in front, who turns round to find the owner of -that delicious gale from Araby the blest. Then she takes out her -opera-glass and peeps about, not so much that her sight is defective, -but that her diamond-ring and gold bracelets gleam prettily in the -operation. John, meantime, has found a seat in a draft, and is -sitting with bent brows and a turned-up coat-collar--which last is -sufficient to make a ruffian of a man without any woman's help--in the -back part of the house. Confidences, millinery, mantua-makery, and -matinée-y are meanwhile exchanged between his wife and dear Miss -Frizzle, who is an acknowledged man-killer, and keeps a private -grave-yard of her own for deceased lovers. - -Now the lecturer rises. "Pooh! he's an ugly man. Well, they need't -look at him; and perhaps he'll be funny--who knows?" He isn't funny. -He is talking about Plato and Epictetus; who the goodness are they? -But there's an end to all things, and so there is to the lecture. Now, -John is wanted, and, to tell the truth, for the first time thought of! -Ah, there he is! but how sulky, and how ugly he looks with his -coat-collar turned up! He might have some regard to appearances when -he goes with _her_. People will think she has such a horrid taste in -husbands. - -"Why don't you talk?" says the little woman, when they get outside. -"It was too bad you couldn't sit by me, John; I missed you so! but, -you see, there was but one seat."--"Not just in that locality, I -suppose," muttered John. But the street-lamp just then shone on that -cunning little dimpled chin, and its owner said, coaxingly, "O-o-h, -now, John! don't be cross with its little wife!" and it's my private -opinion he wasn't. Would you have been, sir? - - - - -_CAN'T BE SUITED._ - - -Look at those long-faced Christians coming home from church, says -Find-Fault; "it is enough to make one sick--gloomy, morose-looking -beings. I wonder do they think there is any religion in that? The fact -is, religion is played out." Now, Find-Fault _wants_ religion to be -played out, so he looks at it always through that pair of spectacles. -If he sees a mistake in that direction, he never thinks, as in other -cases, of making reasonable allowance for it. He can understand how -really good men may have narrow views of business, or of politics, or -of any such secular matters; but if they blunder through narrowness of -view on the _religious_ question, he immediately sets them down as -hypocrites and pretenders. Now I believe that there is many a "Worthy -the Lamb" being sung heartily in heaven to-day, by those mistaken -Christians who thought it right to groan and sigh all the time they -were on earth. It is a pity, to be sure, especially in view of such -people as Find-Fault, that they had not occasionally given us a -cheerful chirp before they went, but "religion" still lives all the -same. - -Then Find-Fault is not very consistent, even on his own showing. - -"_There's_ a pretty minister for you," he says, as he comes out of the -Rev. Mr. Spring-morning's church; "there's a pretty minister for -you--making his congregation smile during the services! A clergyman -shouldn't let himself down that way. It is undignified." You tell him -that the clergyman in question believes in a cheerful religion, and -wishes to do away with the long-faced Christianity which brings -religion into disrepute with just such people as himself. Finding -himself in a corner, he only gives you his stereotyped answer, that -"religion is played out, anyhow." - -Find-Fault isn't a bad man: it only pleases him to be thought so. The -other day, in speaking of a man who made great efforts to overcome -intemperate habits, and failed, he said, "Poor fellow! somebody ought -to take hold and help him to help himself." But, mind you, he never -thinks of applying the same rule to a church-member for whom Satan, in -a moment of weakness, is too strong; no matter how sincere his -repentance, he only says, "_there's your religion again!_" - -Not long since, when a man of very bad character was requested by -church-members and clergymen to give up his disreputable way of -living, Find-Fault said, "Now just see those Christians taking the -bread out of that poor devil's mouth, and expecting him to sustain -nature on praying and singing." - -Afterward, when a purse was made up for just such a person, that he -might be able to defy want, and the better to struggle for honesty, -Find-Fault remarked, sneeringly, "Reform, indeed! what fellow like -that _wouldn't_ reform, even fifty times a year, if the bait of a -well-filled purse were put under his nose." - -Now what is the use of talking to a man who applies common sense to -every subject but that of religion?--who has no doubt that genuine -money is in circulation although he has a counterfeit dollar in his -pocket, but still persists in denying the existence of true religion -because he sometimes meets a hypocrite. Oh, pshaw! None so blind as -they who _wont_ see. None so hard to convince as they who are -predetermined _not_ to be convinced, come what will. - - * * * * * - -Would it not be well for the sextons of our churches, to take the -_creak_ out of their Sunday shoes, by wearing them once or twice on a -week-day? Some of the most important points in a clergyman's discourse -are often lost through the music of the sexton's shoes. A pair of soft -slippers, or easy boots, might be raised on subscription and presented -to this functionary. Also, if he would not go out in the vestibule to -smoke, during service, it would be a relief to many lovers of pure -air. Both these suggestions apply equally well to some of the -parishioners. - - - - -_AUTOGRAPH-HUNTERS._ - - -If there is an intolerable nuisance, it is your persistent -autograph-hunter--your man or woman who keeps a stereotyped formula of -compliment on hand, "their collection not complete without your -distinguished name," &c.; sending it all over the country, to eminent -and _notorious_ individuals alike, to swell their precious -"collection," as they call it. Now, in the outset, I wish to except -requests for this purpose from personal friends, to whom it is always -a pleasure to say Yes; but to those who torment you from mercenary -motives or from mere curiosity, as they would bottle up an odd insect -for their shelf, to amuse an idle hour, I confess to little sympathy. -Nay more, I am unprincipled enough, having long been a martyr, always -to pocket the stamp they send, and throw the request in the -waste-paper basket. I can conceive that invalids, or very young -school-boys or girls, might amuse themselves in this manner; but how a -sane adult, in the rush and hurry and turmoil of the maelstrom-life of -1868, can find a moment for such nonsense, or can expect _you_ to find -a moment for it, is beyond my comprehension. Now, a lock of hair has -some significance--at least, I hope that man thought so, who received -from me a curl clipped from a poodle-dog, which at this moment may be -labelled with my name. It will be all the same a hundred years hence, -as I remarked when I forwarded it to him. - -Your autograph-hunter has a funny way of acknowledging "the -intrusion," and then going on to pile up the agony by asking, beside -your own autograph, that you would "favor him with any from -distinguished individuals that you may happen to have in your -possession, for which he--or she--will be much obliged," etc.; and I -have no doubt they will when I send them! - -Now, I know this sounds unamiable; but there is a point when endurance -comes to an end, and that is where persistent impertinence begins. Why -don't they go to my friend Jack Smith? _He_ is eminent. He will write -autographs all day and all night for anybody who wants one, because he -considers it a compliment, which I don't, as autographs go; and -because Henry Clay never refused--and that would be the very reason I -should; and because Jack has the chronic weakness of always saying -Yes, when he should say No, and _vice versa_. I am afraid I shall have -to buy my postage-stamps after this onslaught, instead of having them -found by autograph-hunters, as I have had for some time; but I shall -get off cheaply at that, and save temper, time, and ink beside. The -mischief of expressing one's opinion on this and kindred subjects, in -print, is this: that the rhinoceros-fellows you mean to hit always -dodge it, in favor of some kind-hearted, sensitive soul whose feelings -you wouldn't wound for a bushel of autographs, though you should have -to sit up all night to write them. I didn't mean _you_ at all, my dear -sir or madam, because I know _you_ really like me, good-for-nothing as -I am; and, after all, it may be that I am only "riled" by that -"furniture-polish man," who looked so much like a clergyman that Betty -mistook him for one, and thought I really must go down if I were busy, -and whose nose I should like to have anointed with his miserable -"polish," for wasting one good hour of the morning, trying it on my -furniture. - - - - -_THE ETIQUETTE OF HOTEL PIAZZAS._ - - -I am not aware that any one has treated this momentous subject. This -being the case, permit me to inquire what are the rights of persons -occupying rooms on the ground-floors of hotels, or boarding-houses, -with windows opening upon the piazzas of the same. Or, in other words, -_have_ they any exclusive right to that part of the piazza directly -fronting their own windows? May they remonstrate if, while sitting at -their window reading or writing, a person draws a chair in front and -commences singing "Pop goes the Weasel," with variations; or whistles -"Yankee Doodle," for an hour; or _reads aloud_ to a companion some -blood-and-thunder novel? Or worse, when a gentleman(?) draws a chair -in front of the window, and with his heels on the pillar of the -piazza, and his head close to your window, lights an odious pipe, and -commences filling your room with its vileness, compelling your -immediate retreat, because he prefers the spot opposite to your window -to the smoker's end of the piazza: in such case, is it in order for -one to request his speedy exit? Is it piazza-etiquette for strangers, -who have ascertained "that that is _her_ room" to lean close to the -window-sill, the better to observe the habits of the animal inside? -May one, in such circumstances, in self-defence, close a blind, or -drop a curtain, without forfeiting the good opinion of inquiring -minds? - -Would it be proper, in those who engage piazza-rooms, first to inquire -of the landlord if he himself is a smoker, the better to calculate -one's chances of sympathy in case of tobacco intruders? - -There are alleviations, I am not unaware, to the occupants of -piazza-rooms. For instance, when one's blinds are closed upon the -unwary, it is interesting to hear a narrative of oneself from the -stranger within the gates. Many facts in your history, of which you -were before entirely ignorant, are thus brought to your notice, -without subscribing to any paper. It is also edifying to learn that -your friend, "Mrs. Jones, gives her husband fits;" that "Mr. Smith is -a horrible brute, in his own room, to his wife, although always ready -to pick up gracefully the handkerchief of any other lady, and return -it with the most complimentary little speeches." It is also amusing to -know that Mrs. Jenkins' hair is or is not her own; likewise, her -complexion. Edifying, also, are statistics about family expenses, and -the manner of expending holiday money so as to get the most fun out of -it. But when one young man reposes love-confidences in another, -beneath your lattice, _then_, my sisters, hold your breath and your -sides!--for then shall you know a depth of stupidity in measuring -feminine tactics which should richly entitle its owner to a free pass -into any Lunatic Asylum in the land. - -As this is a many-sided subject, let me inquire, were you, the -occupant of a piazza-room, ever awakened at the gray dawn, from lovely -slumber, by the dragging of chairs and stools across it, and the -scratching of mops and brooms? Or were you ever forced to lie in a -perspiration of agony, at twelve o'clock at night, while some -enterprising individual, in the parlor opposite your door, played with -one hand, the inspiring tune of "Lanigan's Ball," or rattled -discordantly through "I love but Thee"? - -Lest you should forget it, let me repeat the question with which I -started. Have occupants of piazza-rooms any exclusive rights in the -piece of piazza directly fronting their own windows? If Congress has -not adjourned, perhaps it will stop pulling noses to answer. - - - - -_OLD STOCKBRIDGE IN MASSACHUSETTS._ - - -Massachusetts forever! _and thrift, of course_. Doors that will shut. -Blinds that will fasten. Windows that do not dislocate your wrists to -open. Good bread and beef steak. Mountains with cool sloping sides, -and distracting shadows. A river that has coquetted with the meadows, -till one never knows where it will turn up, or disappear. Perfect -roads, even for our precious "Ledger-horses." Trees whose tops pierce -the clouds, with trunks as rugged and gnarled as the theology of the -oldest divine in the place. "Stockbridge!" The name might have been -prettier--the place _couldn't_ be. From my window I can watch the cool -spray of a fountain, as the wind tosses it about, or the sun makes a -rainbow out of it. Or I can look at a little toy of an Episcopal -Church, half hidden in vines, and trees, and roses, through whose open -windows floats faintly to my ear the sweet Sabbath chaunt, to which -the little birds give cheerful response. Bars of sunlight lie across -the wide grassy road, and every door is a picture, with the silver -hair of age serenely biding its time; or the golden locks of -childhood, shading sinless brows, spite of the "hell" which President -Edwards would insist was their inherited portion. In _this_ place, -too, of all other places, where heavenly peace is written in the air, -and so faint is the intimation of life's turmoil, that one might well -doubt whether this were _not_ heaven. I look at the house where this -good, but _I_ think mistaken, man thought and wrote these things, and -wonder that he could not see _my_ God instead of _his--the Avenger_. - -I walk under these cathedral trees, and like a dream comes to me the -memory of a bright summer day, when a romping school-girl in -Pittsfield, near by, I came to this very "Stockbridge," to a house a -few rods from my present abode, where a sister's welcome awaited me. -And to-day _her_ trees, _her_ vines, _her_ flowers, give out perfume, -and shade, and bloom, all the same as if she were gliding in and out -beneath them, instead of sleeping, deaf, dumb, and blind, forever to -all their beauty. - -_You_, too, must have known those whom you "could not _make_ dead!" -Joyous, beaming creatures, with steps of air, floating _over_--not -walking _on_--the earth; touching everything with brightness, like the -bright-winged birds, which send forth a trill that takes your soul -along with it, as they dart, like a gleam of sunshine, through the -air. _You_, too, have stood over their coffin; but you only remember -the sunny _living_ face. You have touched the cold hand; but you feel -only, through long years of separation, the warm life clasp. And so my -sister was still there, amid her flowers and trees; and when the -present kindly proprietor showed me about the house and grounds, it -was _she_ to whom I listened; it was _she_, not him, whom I followed, -through the well-remembered paths. - -And now tread softly, lest you invade the sanctity of yonder Indian -burying-ground, where rest the bones of countless chiefs, whose -descendants make annual pilgrimage to the spot, unmarked, save by the -wild flowers and waving grass. These Indians went by the name of "The -Stockbridge Indians;" and when any of their tribe settled afterward in -any other place, they always insisted on naming it "Stockbridge." -Jonathan Edwards, who was driven from his church in Northampton on a -point of doctrine, was the minister employed by the Government to -Christianize them; and, from all accounts, a hard job he found it. -"The poor Indian" must have passed into his "hunting-ground," for I -meet him nowhere in my twilight walks through his earthly haunts; nor -does the ghost of a single chief cause my hair to stand on end as I -pass, by moonlight, their lonely burying-ground. - -MORNING IN THE VILLAGE.--Softly, slowly, the white mist-veil is drawn -back from the cool, green mountains. Now a little bird, raising its -bright head from its nest, sends forth such a welcome to the fragrant -new-born day, that prayer of mine seems superfluous and tame beside -it. Follows another, like a well-trained voice in a choir, till at -last the swelling chorus is complete, and nature's matins have fairly -begun. - -How the dew sparkles and trembles on the nodding blades of grass! How -lazily the cows loiter on their shady path to the cool pastures! How -fair look the white daisies and red clover, fresh from their dewy -baths! How still hang the leaves on the trees, as if to enjoy the too -evanescent coolness! Now some little child's sweet voice is heard, -rivaling the birds. There she stands in the doorway, prettier with her -uncombed locks and bare little pink feet peeping from beneath her -loose, white night-dress, than any touch of art could make her. And -now her father, brown and strong, with hoe and rake in hand, goes -forth to his day's work, stopping as he goes to rest his toil-hardened -hand lightly on that little head as he passes it. And whether the hot -noonday sun or the swift lightning-stroke shall paralyze it, that soft -touch, through the slow-coming years, shall be her talisman. And now -the village is fairly astir. None are left in their beds--none are -idle, save the old or the sick. The smoke of the rushing cars curls -out from yonder willows that fringe the river's brink, then -disappears, as, with a parting screech and puff, the train rushes -forth on its errand of life or--death! Now groups gather round the -"store" and "post-office." Ladies who have travelled thither, _with -the city on their backs_, are sauntering under the trees, so occupied -with taking care of their dry-goods that they have neither eyes nor -ears for the beauty and harmony around them. What right have such -women to perpetuate themselves? How _dare_ they be mothers? I don't -know. - -NOON IN THE VILLAGE.--How white and hot lies the sun on the dusty -road! The slow, patient oxen are scarce discernible through the cloud -they raise with their huge feet. Their driver has pushed his coarse -straw hat aside, and is mopping his brown face zealously as he -mercifully gives them breath under the shadow of that grand oak-tree. -The voices of the children and the birds are hushed this garish noon. -Each have taken refuge in their nests, to doze the laggard hours away. -The fine city ladies are in loose dresses, deciding whether brown, or -green, or blue shall make us tear each other's eyes out with envy at -dinner. Their husbands lie under the trees in white raiment, insulting -high Heaven with pipes and segars. _Africa_ is flying around in the -dining-hall, regardless of the thermometer, counting spoons, knives, -and noses. Babies afflicted with last night's mosquito-bites howl at -their nurses with distorted faces, while their bigger brothers and -sisters screech for "a drink of _wutter_." Mammas ejaculate "Merciful -heavens!" and keep on surveying their back-hair with the aid of two -looking-glasses. Wonderful beings are women; but don't fear I shall -turn state's-evidence! Not till I can turn female Robinson Crusoe, -with my "man-Friday," to back me in case of onslaught from the -savages. - -EVENING IN THE VILLAGE.--Little Bobby stands on the piazza, dressed in -his _fifth_ white robe and sash, since the amorous sun kissed the -tears from nature's face, this blessed morning. Poor Bobby! His -temper isn't improved by it; and as to his nurse, were it not for her -"wages," she would like to fricassee Bobby. Poor wretch! but just wait -till Bobby and his mamma are safe in bed. Wont _she_ enjoy her freedom -in a pink neck-ribbon, flirting by moonlight with Tom--the -head-waiter? So would _you_. I don't blame her. You and I haven't the -monopoly of moonlight; although, 'tis true, they might phrase their -vows more grammatically; and if they _could_ make up their minds not -to kiss so loud under my window, I should sleep better of nights. As -the sun declines, how lovely lie the purple shadows on the grateful -coolness. Ladies are driving past, smiling, and prodigal of sweet -words to the husbands of--_their friends! Their_ husbands are -similarly occupied. "Fair exchange is no robbery," saith the proverb. -Smith used to like black hair, when he married his Belinda; but since -he saw Jones' wife with her blonde locks tied with a blue ribbon he is -a penitent man. Belinda don't care--Mrs. Jones' husband has "such a -way with him!" On they dash!--it's none of my business, as Mischief -remarks, when she has winked and blinked a reputation down. I don't -pretend to be more charitable than my betters. Now those of us who -believe that hoofs should not always be a substitute for human feet, -stroll forth for our evening walk. We are not afraid of dew or dust, -and we get miles away before we remember that we have to return. We -sit on the fences, and dangle our boots, and watch the mountain -shadows and the soft white mist creeping over the valleys, and we -listen to the whip-poor-will. Or we boldly walk up the avenue, under -the dense shade of the trees, to the lovely lawn in front of that big -house, and admire the gardener's skill as displayed in the vivid -patches of bloom nestled in the grass. Or we cross the meadow--to the -tell-tale willows, behind which the river hides, and listen to its -peaceful flow; and say for the thousandth time, that we _will_ own "a -place" in the country; but, nevertheless, it is ten to one, that next -summer will find us staring at the "place" of somebody else, and -allowing him the privilege of keeping it in order for us, and settling -the bills for the same. Alas! that the tools with which scribblers -work can be sharpened and kept from rusting only on that -grindstone--_the city_. - - - - -_SUNDAY IN THE VILLAGE._ - - -I am New England born. I want a hymn and a prayer on Sunday. Not that -I do not like both, on other days; but I am always homesick without -them on Sunday. I want them _in church_, too. I said I wanted a hymn -and a prayer. I want a sermon, too; but, alas! I am so often -disappointed _there_, and I so dread being disappointed, that I -generally take a seat near the door, where I can leave at the precise -point when I feel happy, and the sermon begins. - -This is naughty, I know, but as I have gone into the confessional, I -will make a clean "_shrive_" of it. I want _what_ I want so much, and -the lack of it spoils my Sunday. I want to know _how to live_; and the -Rev. ---- only tells me that I've "got to die." I want to know how to -manage with _to-day_; and the Rev. ---- only speculates about what may -or what may not be in eternity. I want to be soothed, and helped, and -propped, and comforted; and the Rev. ---- tries to scare me with an -"angry God," and a "sure damnation." I want earnestness in the pulpit; -and instead, I find the Rev. ---- drawling lazily, "And the LUD GED -said unto Adam." I want to know what the Rev. ---- is talking about; -instead--half of the time, I am convinced--he don't even know that -himself. - -Perhaps these reasons may be some excuse for my dodging the "sermon" -occasionally; if not, I plead guilty, and only ask you to acquit me of -intentional irreverence. It still remains that who else soever can do -without their Sunday, it is not I--Fanny. - -But that's not what I meant to speak about, only that you will insist -on the "prelude" in church. I _meant_ to tell you that the Sunday -before I left New York, I had a genuine Sunday--one of _my_ Sundays; -when, on entering the church of the Rev. Dr. Hall, I did not exchange -the sweet song of birds, the vivid green of the trees, or the blue of -the fair skies, for sulphureous terrors. Since I heard Dr. Payson, of -Portland, when he reached out pleading hands to win wayward feet into -the path of life, I have never been so entirely satisfied with the -delivery of the Master's message. Dr. Hall has the same dignity; the -same pleading earnestness; the same deep, rich voice; the same -appreciative way of reading the hymns; the same _heart_-tone in every -syllable. With him it is no performance. No person present could fail -to feel that he had come there that morning as a fond parent would go -forth, full of tender love, and yearning for the child who had strayed -from home. There was no narrowness, no bigotry, no uncharitable -denunciation; and, at the same time, no blinking of the truth--and the -_whole_ truth. It was the lovely spirit of the Crucified: "Father, -forgive them: they know not what they do." - -_I_ had a full meal; and if you could have gone away unsatisfied, I am -sorry for you. It must be that you never had a heart-wrench; that you -never reached out imploring hands in the darkness, only to grasp the -empty air. It must be that the earth never opened at your feet, and -swallowed up your dear ones. It must be that you never--with a sincere -desire to do right, by yourself, and by others--found yourself choking -with distressful tears, that each day's sun should go down with so -poor a record. Oh, you never could have felt thus, or you could not -have gone away from the sound of Dr. Hall's voice, and said, there was -nothing there for me. At least I think you would have admired, as I -did, his noble frankness in telling "church-members" that he did not -blame outsiders for doubting their Christianity, when they were so -swift to pronounce judgment on those who differed from them in -opinion. "This is bigotry," said he; "this is fanaticism--it is not -Christianity. Man's conscience was not given him for this--it was -given him to scrutinize his own shortcomings." This pleased me, in -contrast with the opinion held by many "Christians," that the faults -of such should never be spoken of, "for the possible harm to the -cause." - -Now, in conclusion, I would say to Dr. Hall's church, that to allow a -clergyman like him to preach in a place so badly ventilated as was -that church the morning I was present, is a crime. Let them show -their regard for him, while thronging there to hear him, by not -killing him by inches; he is too tall a man to die in that way. - - * * * * * - -WHAT DIFFERENCE CAN IT MAKE WHAT I DO OR SAY?--Now, there is not a man -or woman living, nor ever has been, to whom it "makes no difference." -If you have neither father, mother, brother, sister, child, husband, -or wife, in the wide world, still there is some neighbor, some -companion, whose eye, fixed upon you, is moved, perhaps unknown to -themselves, for good or for evil. You slip an arm through theirs, in -the crowded thoroughfare, or lay a friendly hand on their shoulder, -and, in a leisure moment, saunter along together. _Where?_ It was -_you_ who decided _where_. It is on you that the responsibility falls, -perhaps, of that friend's _first_ downward step. Never say, it "makes -no difference what I do." It makes a difference to _yourself_, even -were it true that it did to no one else. - -They who have passed many milestones on the journey of life, with -their faces toward the Celestial City, do not stop to ask those who -pass them on the road, of their creeds or nationalities. They see only -the brother, or sister, to whom the helping hand and sympathizing word -in time may be life or death for this world and the next. This is the -true Christ-spirit. - - - - -_SICK IN THE VILLAGE._ - - -I have been sick; safe under the coverlet for seven or eight days at -least. I mention what may be to you but a very ordinary experience, -because I am really quite humiliated: first, that such an unusual -thing should have occurred to me; and secondly, that it should have -been the undeserved penalty of great amiability on my part. It -happened lately that, on a certain public occasion, a seat was -politely assigned me near the orator of the hour, and, unfortunately, -also near an open window, through which came directly upon my throat a -blast of chill air. I felt it clutch me, but I said to myself, I wont -make a disturbance leaving. Hence the necessity of a doctor, and a -total cessation of speech, and a big bunch, the size of an egg, on a -throat which were better without it. The next time I am polite, you -may tell me of it! I am out now, to be sure, under the trees again, -but I can't walk with any spring or unction. I can't eat with any -appetite. I can't ride without being sensible of every inequality in -the road. I hate a bed so that I can scarce bring my mind to get into -one at night, and yet I am, as the expression goes, "_dead tired_" all -the time. I tell you all this, particularly now, however, because I -have received a stack of letters, during this period, which I must -take a little time to answer, and which correspondents might otherwise -suppose were never received, or had been slighted. But, oh! how -beautiful look the green fields to me, now, and how welcome the fresh -air! Still, don't come to Stockbridge _to be sick_. It is heaven for -well people, and kind friends who dwell here are heavenly in kind -deeds, at such and all other times. - -This is what ails Stockbridge. It is occupied, mainly, by rich people, -who come here only for their summer sojourn. Most of the houses here -are quite closed in winter; therefore, you see that they are all -consumers: _producers_ are the exceptions. If you have fruit or -squashes in your own garden, thank the sun and the Lord for the same. -If you don't own a garden, and don't want to tire out the generosity -of your friends; in short, if you are a sick pilgrim at a hotel, then -more's the pity. _Then_ you'll lie on your pillow and dream of big -peaches, and luscious pears, and plums, in your native hunting-ground, -the New York markets. You'll think of the stores in Broadway, where -huge bunches of grapes, in purple bloom, lie clustering. Maybe at the -butcher's, near your very door in New York, is the "sweet-bread," -which, if cooked at the right moment, and in the right way, might -tempt your flagging appetite. Heaven's blessings on the good -Samaritans who brought _me_ nice tit-bits; but one don't want to be a -pauper too long, lest the patience of benevolence might give out. - -While I lay sick, I must say a peach-tree seemed more desirable than -the grandest elm; and a pear-tree preferable to ever so magnificent a -maple or chestnut. Grape-vines, also, I thought finer than woodbine, -ivy, or clematis; in short--were my state of invalidism to continue, I -am confident I should become a confirmed utilitarian. - -If this bit of experience of mine is any comfort to the forced -sojourner in the hot city, let him hug it to heart. I have had sunsets -here like the glory of "the New Jerusalem." I've wandered under these -trees and been driven over these lovely roads, till my eyes were moist -with happiness I could not voice. I have heard such kindly tones, and -seen such loving faces, and been so hospitably entreated here, that it -would take more physic than was involved in those bed-ridden days of -pain and unrest to give me a grudge against lovely, mountain-girdled -Stockbridge. - - - - -_MEN AND THEIR CLOTHES._ - - -The female fashions of to-day are absurd enough; but if anything more -absurd than a man's "stove-pipe hat" was ever invented, I would like -to see it. Mark its victims, when they remove it from their -heads--which they seldom do, the gods know why, unless they are -getting into bed; see the red rim across their foreheads, produced by -its unwieldy weight, and unnecessary inches up in the air; see them -occasionally in the street, giving it a cock backwards, when nobody -but apple-women are looking, to observe how quickly a gentleman, by -that action, may be made into a rowdy; then see them apply their -handkerchiefs to their foreheads, to cool off the heat and the pain, -and then with a stoicism worthy of one of Fox's martyrs, replace it, -and bear the long agony till they get home. Then what garment that -ever woman wore, is more ridiculous than a man's shirt, whether -buttoning before or buttoning behind, or disfigured with puerile -"studs;" whether the stiff collar stands up like a picket on guard, or -lays over, with a necktie to tie it suffocatingly over the jugular -vein. - -Then mark that abomination--a swallow-tailed coat. Heavens! how ugly -the handsomest man may look in it! and woe for the plain men, when -they intensify their plainness with it! - -Then see the knock-kneed and the crooked-legged advertising their -deformity in tight pantaloons; and short, fat, barrel men wearing -little boys' cloth caps on their heads! Ah, for every female goose -that Fashion makes, I will find you a male mate, even to the wearing -of tight corsets! - -But, my friends, on one point there's a difference. "When a -fashionable lady engages a female servant, she stipulates that she -shall wear a cap on her head, and calico on her back, to mark the -difference between herself and that servant--without which, I suppose, -it would not often be recognizable." When her _husband_ gives a dinner, -the male waiters are dressed exactly like himself--in festal white -neckties, white gloves, and hideous swallow-tailed coats. - -How is this? It must be that the male creature is very secure of his -position, socially, mentally, morally, and physically, to permit such -presumption--nay, to demand it. Can any philosopher explain to me this -mystery? I was "struck 'midships" with the idea at a festal gathering -not long since; and turning to my male guide, philosopher, and friend, -asked what it meant. His irritating answer to this most proper and -natural question was, "Fanny, don't be silly." - -I reiterate my remark that men's dress is to the full as absurd in its -way as women's, and I am only reconciled to the idea that a man was -intended for a human being when I see an athlete of a gymnast, of -glorious chest and calves, and splendid muscular arms, skimming the -air as gracefully as a bird, and as poetically; then I know how -civilization has ruined him! I know, that man if he jumped, and ran, -and wrestled, and walked, instead of sitting stupidly in a chair in -the house, or creeping into an omnibus when out of it, and smoking and -going to sleep in the intervals, would not be obliged to creep into -these ugly tailor's padded fashions to hide his deficiencies, but -could wear what he chose, knowing that the beautiful outlines of his -form would glorify any decent vestment. - -I walked several blocks out of my way behind a man, the other day, who -positively "stepped off." What a chest he had! what a splendid poise -of the head! what a free, jubilant swing of the arm! I hope he will -come to New York again some day, for I'm sure he was a stranger to it, -for he neither stopped anywhere to take a drink, buy a cigar, nor did -he hail an omnibus! - -Magnificent giant! I wonder what was his name, and had he a mother. If -not--well, it was a pity he shouldn't have. - -I wonder what _are_ "good manners"? The question occurred to me the -other evening in a place of public amusement. I was one of a dozen or -so of ladies, wedged in a row of the usual narrow seats. At every -pause in the performance, three _gentlemen_ stepped over the laps of -the ladies in that seat, carrying off in their exit, or knocking upon -the floor, opera-glasses, fans, scarfs, handkerchiefs, and, almost, -the ladies themselves; returning each time wiping their lips, and -introducing with them a strong odious smell of tobacco. I respectfully -submit to any _real_ gentleman who reads this article, if that is -"good manners." - -Of course, I know it would be better if all seats at such places could -be so arranged that _gentlemen_ need not clean their boots on ladies' -laps in order to pass out. But also it would be well if gentlemen took -all the sustenance in the way of wine which they needed before -starting from home; and if they _could_ also bring their godlike -minds, to defer smoking till they could annoy only the one lady, whom -they have a legal right to annoy, it would add to the general comfort, -as well as their _public_ reputation for gallantry and politeness. Men -generally object to going out evenings, "because they are so tired." -Why, then, they never embrace the opportunity to sit still when they -get there, is an inconsistency which we must place unsolved, on the -shelf already so well labelled with them. I might suggest also, that -if they will persist in cleaning their boots on our laps, in order to -get out these narrow sets of seats, and if they will carry off in -their exit our gloves and fans and opera-glasses, and if they will -keep on repeating this little pastime all the evening, to say nothing -of occasionally crushing our feet out of all shape, I would venture to -suggest that they should mitigate the suffering by saying, -occasionally, "I beg pardon," or, "Pray excuse me," or by some such -little deference acknowledge the infinite bore of their presence. - -Failing in this, I propose that each _gentleman_, on his return, -should bring in his hand a peace-offering to the ladies in the seat, -of a glass of lemonade and a bit of cake. Why shouldn't _we_ be -thirsty too? Mr. Beecher says a woman has a right to--no, I believe he -_didn't_ say that, but he ought to have done so; and if he didn't, -"fair play is a jewel." - -Mr. Smith exclaims, on reading this, "Horrible woman!" because, though -a handsome man, he sees himself looking selfish and ugly in the glass -I hold up to him. Now, Mr. Smith wouldn't say that, if he should sit -down beside me and let me talk to him five minutes. Not he! You see I -have him at a great disadvantage, away off at the other end of the -city or over to Brooklyn. I could say the very same things to him I -have just said on paper, sitting here on my sofa beside me, and that -man would go on lying, as men will, to other men's wives' faces, and -be _so_ polite and smiling, that his own wife never would know him, if -she happened in; and he'd tell me that "what I said was all true, and -that men _were_ selfish animals," meaning Tom Jones and Sam Jenkins, -and every other man but just himself. Don't I know them? - - - - -_NOTES FROM PLYMOUTH ROCK._ - - -How I ever lived so many years in Boston without coming to see -Plymouth, is one of the sins of omission for which I am at this -present finding doing my best to atone. I trust all of you who are -equally guilty, will come as soon as may be to breathe the fine -Newport air of the place, and take time to visit its interesting -coast, its numerous ponds, its lovely drives through odorous woods, -and all the hallowed spots which ought to be dear to the heart of -every true American. Don't go to Paris or London till you have been to -Plymouth. It were well to "see Niagara" first; but it were better to -have gone with me to the "Record Office" this morning, and seen the -yellow manuscripts, covered thickly with the small German text-looking -handwriting of our Pilgrim Fathers; setting forth, for instance, "the -shares they severally held in a cow," in the simple, honest, -straightforward manner of the time--one signed by "Myles Standish," -who, it seems, having the primitive ambition to own an _entire_ cow, -kept buying up the shares of the rest as speedily as his means -allowed. I thought of Mr. Bonner's stables, and the thousands of -dollars his horses represented, and wondered how he dared to say his -catechism! Then I saw their veritable "Charter," kept in a dark -cupboard, with a silken curtain drawn across the precious signatures, -lest the unscrupulous sunlight, invading this "Holy of Holies," should -snatch them from posterity. And then and there was exploded for me the -theory that handwriting is indicative of character. Certainly those -effeminate, small, beautiful letters gave no sign or token of the -moral strength, the rugged persistence of purpose, of the Pilgrim -Fathers. Not one modern young lady in a hundred could write so minute -and beautiful a hand. They must have had good eyesight in those days, -when gas and furnaces were not. Sharp men they were; disguising the -very graves of the first little Mayflower band, lest the Indians -should take advantage of the reduction of their numbers. The very -house I am in bears the name of the first Indian who visited -them,--"Samoset." Whether the fair and tender-hearted Rose Standish -quailed before the savage owner of this most musical name, I have not -learned. I do not hesitate to say, that _I_ should have made for the -bushes on his first appearance. It is curious, in walking the streets -of Plymouth, to hear the little children calling to each other, in -their play, and using the old familiar Mayflower names of hundreds of -years ago. - -But Pilgrim ancestry does not insure saintliness in all its -descendants, as I found upon visiting the county prison. Within its -walls was pointed out to me a woman who had poisoned her husband, -when sick and helpless on her hands. For thirteen long weary years -she had never been outside those walls; and latterly had declined even -walking in the little paved yard allowed the prisoners. She was a -large, powerfully built woman, with a skin like the parchments I had -been looking at in the Record Office drawn tightly over her high -cheek-bones. She sat sewing at her grated window as we entered; and -when asked "if she were not warm," as the day was very hot, answered -petulantly, "No--I am most always cold; there can't be circulation -where there's no exercise." Outside was bloom and sunlight, and song -of birds, and merry voices, and blue skies, and pleasant hum of labor, -and the faint dirge of the sea. She merited her fate, but I turned -away from her sick at heart, and thought, were it my case, how -questionable were the mercy that abolished hanging for such -slow-dropping torture as this. - -In the same room with her were three hard-featured women, placed there -for violation of the liquor laws. Each in that room had a babe in her -arms, or at her knee--poor little innocent victims of maternal -misdoing. One baby was moaning with the teething process, so hard to -endure and survive, even with all the appliances of out-door air and -wholesome surroundings. Its little waxen face showed signs of severe -suffering, and for _three months_ more, if the little life were spun -out that long, it must remain there--its only amusement rocking the -rude box which was allowed for a cradle. The mother answered me -roughly enough when I inquired the age of her baby, but God knows I -forgive her any bitterness she might feel at the difference that -bright day in our respective lots; but could she have read my heart, -and seen how I longed to carry her little one out on the grass, and -among the flowers, and see it smile, she would have known me for its -friend. - -I never saw a prison more clean, and neat, and well-ordered; and yet I -could not help thinking there should be a nursery there, that the -little children of these erring mothers need not be punished with -them; but, in the graphic language of the Superintendent, "Its -original intention was _not_ a fancy boarding-house." - -I wish here to place on record that Plymouth can make good bread. I -had begun to fear, so long had I been fed on Cape Ann saleratus, that -I might lose the taste of wholesome yeast and flour, just as the -"marasmus" denizens of the Five Points learn to dislike pure air. A -brief heaven of good city bread in blessed old Boston quite set me up; -and its unexpected appearance in Plymouth was more than I dared to -hope. - -I presume to this I may attribute the number of hale-looking, cheerful -old people in Plymouth. I have no doubt it has had its effect also on -the religious liberality so prevalent here, as I find that nobody -_makes mouths_ at you for being a Unitarian, or an Episcopalian, or of -any other denomination that happens to suit your complaint. Rev. Mr. -Robinson, the minister of the church in Holland from which "the -Mayflower" Christians came, inculcated upon his flock this bit of pure -gospel, in his parting sermon to them, that, "there was a great deal -of truth coming out ahead that they had not even dreamed of as yet;" -and particularly warned them against that spiritual conceit which -should close their eyes to the perception of it. Now that's what I -call liberal Christianity. Ministers, deacons, and the religious world -generally will please take notice. - -Since I came here, Plymouth has distinguished itself by a storm of -rain and wind, the like of which I never saw before. I began to think -over my transgressions; but really there were so many of them, and the -house rocked so, and the trees swirled round at such a furious rate, -that I had no clear idea then, nor have I since, of their number or -enormity. And the very next morning the sun shone out so brightly on -uprooted trees and unroofed barns and tumble-down chimneys, and the -flowers that from their lowliness had escaped the avenger, that I took -heart of grace, and classed myself among the latter! - - - - -_NO BEAUX ANYWHERE._ - - -No beaux! Absolutely _no_ beaux! Well, young ladies, stop and -consider, if, after all, you yourselves have not pronounced the -sentence of banishment. - -We?--we "banish" them? Good gracious! Is it not for them we have -devised all this elaboration of adornment? We, indeed! Were we not, -for weeks, before we came to these odious mountains, where men are as -scarce as French hair-dressers, closeted with our dress-makers and -milliners to produce these bewitching "suits," long and short, for -morning and evening, out-door and indoor wear? Have we not cool -dresses and warm dresses; dresses for rain, dresses for sunshine, -dresses for neutral weather, with ribbons, gloves, sashes, parasols, -hats and fans to "match," to the minutest shade? For whom should we -take all that trouble but for the beaux? And how are we responsible -for their disgusting absence? - -Listen, my dears, for in that which you have just said lies your -offence. Can damsels thus arrayed walk in the woods, climb the -mountains (except in poetry)? Can they take even an ordinary, mild -walk, without mortal terror of perilling their millinery? Must they -not, therefore, "ride," morning, afternoon, and evening, everywhere, -to the delectation of stable-keepers, and the consequent pecuniary -depletion of the "beaux"? These beaux, whose fathers may be rich, but -whose sons have yet to fill their individual coffers; these beaux, who -have just so much to expend when they get away for a summer holiday, -and who do not desire to pour it _all_ into the pockets of the -stable-keepers; these beaux, who can get vastly more fun out of their -purses, and make them last longer, with a party of "the -fellows,"--this is the reason that, with rare exceptions, you have to -throw away these ravishing toilettes on your own sex, when you play -croquet, or sit on the piazza, dreaming of the "coming man." - -My dears, he _wont_ come! He knows too much. He has seen his sister's -milliner and mantua-maker bills, and heard the family discussions -thereon; and though he acknowledges your fascinations even through all -the absurd toggery you are doomed by fashion's slavery to have and to -wear, he has yet to make the fortune to enable him to foot his angel's -bills. So he runs away from you, discreetly; runs off fishing, or -gunning, with "the fellows," and, wiser than you, comes home brown, -hale, and hearty for the winter months, instead of perspiring at your -side in tight boots and yellow kids. - -Do you begin to understand? Now, my dears, if you have been ushered -into the world in a coach and six, till your feet and hands have -become paralyzed for want of use, that's your _misfortune_, not your -fault, because that necessitates a rich husband. And as there are very -few rich _young_ husbands, you will have to bid good-by to your -girlish ideal, and marry the bald-headed, gouty Mr. Smith, who was -born at the same time as your own father. This, my dears, you will -have to do, or face your nightmare, _single blessedness_. - -I have looked at you playing croquet, without a coat-tail among you; I -have seen you driving yourselves out in your pretty little phaetons; -and though you put a brave face on it, I know very well what is going -on under that gay little sash of yours; and I think it is a pity that -you should have been brought up to so many artificial wants, that your -_heart_ must go hungry in life's spring-time because of them. - -My dears, _I_ never lacked beaux at your age. But a walk in the woods, -or in the city either, involved no expense to _my_ beaux. I could -climb a fence, where there was no gate, or where there _was_ either; I -was not afraid of dew, or rain, because my dress was simple. My gifts -were not diamonds, but flowers, or books. _My_ mother would not have -allowed me to ride with gentlemen, had they asked me. When they came -to spend an evening, our tray of refreshments did not involve a -"French cook." So you see, my dears, though I had no silk dresses, I -had plenty of beaux, and a gay heart; and I enjoyed a sail with an old -sun-bonnet over my curls, or a moonlight ramble, with a merry party, -much better than you do "the German;" and half an hour was sufficient -warning for me "to dress" for any kind of a party--indoors or -out--because, unlike you, I was not bothered to choose from twenty -dresses which to wear; and I will give you leave to ask any of my -beaux, who are now grandfathers, if I was not able at that time to -settle _their_ accounts! And it is because I had such a good time that -I feel vexed that your youth and prettiness should so often go -a-begging--through no fault of yours; and you may show this to your -mothers and tell them I say so. - -In the country, too, matrons, we have full trunks and absent husbands. - -It was a quiet little village; just such a place as you, madam, with -your six children, sensibly clad in calico, would like to have enjoyed -the sweet summer days in. There was no "dress;" there were no "hops," -in hot halls, by gas-light; there were no masquerade balls. Everybody -was in bed by ten o'clock, save a few smokers, who profaned the sweet, -odorous quiet with their vile tobacco fumes. There was plenty of -driving through the bewitching roads, plenty of walking, _some_ -gossip,--_which I have ascertained has no sex_--some croquet-ing and -crochetting, but no _coquetting_, because there was a great vacuum -where beaux should be. Altogether, the city residents of Frog-ville -were a sensible set. - -But, alas! one unlucky day the shrieking cars landed at the door of -the principal boarding-house a woman. That was not an event of itself, -but this woman was accompanied by many trunks. Nobody knew whence she -came, but conjecture was rife as to the contents of the trunks. -Breakfast, next morning, solved the mystery. Mrs. Fire-Fly--for she -was a Mrs.--none the less dangerous for that--on the contrary!--swept -into the dining-hall in a train about six yards long. The train was -white and spotless; the floor was not. The lady carried her coffee to -her lips, with diamond girdled fingers, _steadily_, with an eye to her -delicate ribbons. Scipio, who handed her beefsteak over her shoulder, -had no time to consider such trifles. Little puddles of milk lay in -wait on the floor for that spotless train, dexteriously coiled, by its -owner, like an anaconda under the table. Pools of milk, tea-drippings, -and bits of omelette, dislodged from their moorings, by hot haste in -serving, were dotted, here and there, in the path she would soon be -called upon to mop on her exit. At _length_ she rose! Her train -followed at a respectful distance. The eyes of the dozen or two -sensible women, clad in sensible raiment, followed that train. Its -dainty owner, with a disdain of economy, born of many trunks, and -their ample contents, did not so much as lift it with one of her -jeweled fingers. On she swept, through the coffee-pools--through the -gravy-drippings--through the milk-puddles, out into the hall. - -The sensible women present looked after her spell-bound. Then they -gazed into each other's eyes, and murmured, "Paris!" Alas! the serpent -in fairest guise had entered the primitive Eden of Frog-ville. The -sensible matrons looked now, through different spectacles, at their -alpacas and calicoes. How mean in comparison! Their trimmings, how -"dowdy"! The fit of their bodices, how awkward! Dinner-time came, with -added newness and added splendors. Cobweb tissues, with frost-work -trimmings, and train longer by two yards than the breakfast train. And -such ribbons! And such jewelry! How tasteless was the beef that day; -how disgusting the mutton; how prosaic their gingham-clad, rosy -children; how tame and humdrum was life generally. And then, this -dainty lady had "a maid." _They_ had no "maids." They had never felt -the need of a "maid" till now. How had they ever combed their tresses? -How had they ever fastened their own dresses? Pshaw! their _dresses_! -How unworthy the name--mere wrappers. Gracious! how miserable were -these heretofore happy women. Never till now did they know how -miserable they were. The dainty lady's husband, 'tis true, was not -with her. She had to do without him; while they had theirs with them. -_Her_ husband was in the hot, smoky city, earning more money for more -"Paris" dresses--that is, he was earning money during the day; what he -did with his solitary evenings or nights, the dainty wife did not -inquire. She was satisfied; she was brimming with content, that she -alone, amid all these wives and mothers, had "Paris" dresses. - -"I really must have some clothes," said one of the hitherto sensible -matrons, "the next time I go into the country. I didn't know, till -Mrs. Fire-Fly came, how very shabby was my wardrobe." - -"I would rather," said a friend at her elbow, "that you, the healthy -mother of six healthy daughters, should have said: 'I didn't know, -till Mrs. Fire-Fly came, how sensible and befitting the country was my -wardrobe; and how proper and right it was that my husband should be -taking his rest in the country with me, instead of divorcing himself -at the risk of our mutual peace, to furnish me with nine trunks full -of Paris dresses.'" - - * * * * * - -"I have done nothing to-day but keep things straight in the house," -you say wearily at the close of it. Do you call that nothing? Nothing -that your children are healthy, and happy, and secured from evil -influence? Nothing that neatness, and thrift, and wholesome food -follow the touch of your finger-tips? Nothing that beauty in place of -ugliness meets the eye of the cheerful little ones, in the plants at -your window, in the picture on the wall? Nothing that _home_ to them -means _home_, and will always do so, to the end of life, what -vicissitudes soever that may involve? Oh, careworn mother! is all this -nothing? Is it nothing that over against your _sometime_-mistakes and -sometime-discouragement shall be written, "She hath done what she -could?" - - - - -_DANIEL WEBSTER'S HOME._ - - -It was not as a mere relic-hunter, that I crossed the threshold of -Daniel Webster's home in Marshfield. As a Bostonian, long years ago, I -had been spell-bound by those wondrous eyes, and that irresistible -eloquence which so seldom failed to magnetize. As to the mistaken -words which, had he lived till now, I firmly believe he would have -grievingly wished unsaid, and which have palsied many hands that would -have been raised over that roof in blessing, I have nothing to say -now. As far as the East is from the West, so far do I differ with him -on that point. But all these thoughts vanished, and the old Boston -magnetism moved me, as I stood in that beautiful library, which, more -than any other room of that lovely home, _his_ presence seemed to fill -and pervade. The beautiful sunlight streamed in upon the favorite -books he loved so well, upon the favorite chair and table, upon the -thousand and one tributes of love and admiration from across the sea, -and from nearer home, which are still carefully treasured. _There_ -only, after all these years, could I really "make him _dead_." My last -sight of him was on a public occasion in Boston, sitting in a -barouche, with that grand massive head uncovered, in recognition of -the applause about him. And I am not ashamed, at this distance, to say -that when he kissed the forehead of my little girl--now a woman -grown--as he took from her hand the flowers I sent him, that I looked -upon it as a sort of baptism. - -Now, all about his home in Marshfield, are family pictures of the -little children he tenderly loved. And what beautiful children they -are! or _were_, for many of their names are now recorded on marble -beside his own. And above the picture of him--as if such a head as -_his_ could ever be faithfully reproduced!--were his hat and stick. I -stood looking at them, and wondering if, when he used to sit there he -ever thought of _that_--if when resting in that peaceful spot, with -bloom and brightness about him, weary with the ceaseless strife, and -with the din of life, shut out, for a time at least, he ever longed to -lay them aside for ever--thus! - -In every house, the individuality of it is that which interests us -most. _These_ household gods all had their little story; all, too, -spoke of taste and refinement and culture, and love of the beautiful -in form, color, and arrangement. It almost seemed an impertinence to -move about from room to room, and gaze at them; and, I think, had it -not been that one of the family recognized and welcomed me as a -remembered Bostonian, I should have felt very much like an inexcusable -intruder there. - -All honor to Daniel Webster for having had painted, and hung up in a -conspicuous place in his house, _the portrait of his black cook_. It -is the most unique object in it; and the feeling which prompted this -public recognition of faithful service was most honorable to him. -Alas! had he always been as true to his better instincts! - -The simple majesty of Daniel Webster's tomb is very impressive. It is -fit that it should be _there_, at Marshfield, within sound of the -restless sea--restless as his spirit. For inscription--only the name -and date, and those memorable words of his on Immortality. There are -no mysteries to him _now_. - - * * * * * - -Some men--can anybody tell us why?--always gravitate _downward_ in -their male friendships. Their boon-companion is sure to be one -destitute of everything that would seem to constitute an equality. Now -what can be the reason of this? Is it because such persons need to -have their self-respect constantly bolstered up by the flattery of -parasites? Whatever the motive may be, the _result_ is certain -deterioration. Not, on the other hand, that it is not best to meet -with, and know all sorts of persons; but _invariably_ to choose -inferiority, for a bosom-friend, argues a flaw, and a serious one, -somewhere. - - - - -_A TRIP TO RICHMOND._ - - -Beautiful Baltimore! I kiss my hand to beautiful Baltimore! Passing -through it only on my way to Washington in days gone by, I had only -flying, and muddy, and back-street reminiscences of it. _Now_ it seems -to me the most elegant of cities. Dear to my New England eyes, above -all, are its polished windows, immaculate and spacious front-door -steps, cleanly gutters, and sidewalks free from defilement of ashes -and garbage. The sweet, wholesome air of the place, with no taint to -offend the most fastidious nose, contrasted pleasantly with our large -New York residences; many of whose occupants, having begun life in -tenement houses, still retain their fondness for tenement-house odors -and dirty sidewalks. I passed through street after street, without -seeing an ash-barrel or box, or anything repulsive to neatness; and -that, not only where the wealthy reside, but where were houses of very -moderate rents and dimensions, yet all shining and clean, and sweet, -as a child's face when newly washed, and framed in its best Sunday -bonnet. Beautiful Baltimore! I came well-nigh forgetting, as I -strolled along, that _you_ ever stood on one side the political fence, -and _I_ on the other; but we wont rake up old grievances, or new ones -either. Instead, I will say that your new "Druid Hill Park" is a gem, -and a big one; and if you don't make the most of it, it will not be -because nature has not fashioned its undulating surface, and grown -giant trees there ready to your hand with a grace and a profusion -which leave you little to do in the way of art. Now, our "Central -Park" was fashioned in the face and teeth of every disadvantage; and -yet see what a joy and beauty and delight it is to us all. So, shame -to you, Baltimore, if you don't far outstrip us! Sure I am, that the -occupants of those tasteful and magnificent private dwellings can need -no hint from me to contribute liberally toward it. - -Elegant stores, too, has Baltimore; and in them all the little last -new feminine dodges in the way of adornment, so that no Baltimore -husband need heed his wife's prayer to go to New York to see what is -the last new fashion in gloves, boots, silks, laces, bonnets, -or--hair. Baltimore wives may not thank me for this, but I am not -afraid; for I can truly say that their faces were so bright that sunny -day, as they nodded smilingly to one another, that I trembled for the -wide-spread fame of New York beauties. Little loves of children too, I -saw, with their sable nurses; oh! how I like the sable nurses. No -_French_ caps _shamming_ it over _Celtic_ faces; but instead, the -jolly African physiognomy, framed in its gay turban; and, best of -all--forgive me, fair Baltimore!--_receiving_ as well as _earning_ a -nurse's wages. - -I always feel as if a coroner's inquest would be held over me, when I -cross a steamboat gangway, even though there may be blue sky overhead, -and sunshine about me. - -Judge, then, of my consternation, as the Baltimore boat pushed off for -Norfolk, Va., and I discovered directly beneath my state-room window -about a dozen barrels of _kerosene_. In vain did the philosopher try -to bamboozle me into the belief that "it was lard." After fifteen -years conjugal acquaintance with my nose, it was a stupidity of which -only a man could be guilty. - -"Lard!" I exclaimed; "it is kerosene! and a military company on board -too." Now I _don't_ "love the military." I had one fearful experience -with them, on board the ill-fated Lady Elgin, when, in the midst of a -howling tempest, with thunder and lightning thrown in, their tipsy -howls made a perfect pandemonium. - -Military companies smoke too; and there is always fire where there is -smoke, says the old proverb; and sparks and kerosene are things better -divorced. So I didn't undress that night, and had plenty of time to -consider a question which for the first time I asked myself,--whether -a steamboat ought not, in a case like this, to forfeit its insurance. -That part of my education having been neglected at boarding-school, I -was unable to solve it; so I shudderingly recognized the fact, that -men on the upper deck were smoking pipes, and knocking ashes and -sparks from the railing with a verdant innocence and stupidity quite -astounding. - -But the "angel aloft," wafted away the sparks from the kerosene; and a -friendly rain coming on, my perturbed spirit had a great calm. So we -got to Norfolk whole and alive--no thanks to that steamboat or its -owners. It was lucky I had my excitement _going_ there, for a more -stagnant, sleepy place--outside of the Dead Sea--never announced -itself. Still, there were peach-trees in blossom, and tulip-trees, and -the pretty blue periwinkle peeped from the hedges and gardens, and the -grass was green, and--so was everything else there! One day sufficed -me, although it was pleasant to sit with open windows. Our coachman -dragged us up and down through the narrow, dilapidated looking -streets, over pavements that forced to our lips the letter O oftener -than any other in the alphabet, while "showing us the city." As the -streets were all alike, we cut short his little fun by requesting to -be set down at our hotel, while one bone remained undislocated. - -The grave-yard was, after all, the pleasantest spot through which we -drove in Norfolk. Whole graves there were covered with the blue -flowers of the running myrtle; they were even peeping up under the -little patches of snow. "Five dollars fine for picking a blossom." A -good rule; but I was always unruly, and that blue myrtle is my -favorite flower. Still I don't say I plucked one--of course not; how -could I, inside a carriage? - -Norfolk should be named "Sleepy Hollow." I can't conceive of keeping -awake there, unless by help of their corduroy pavements. It was tame, -after living in New York, where there is always "a dreadful _lass_ of -life," as the newsboys express it, or something that is pleasant -happening. - -Whoso essays to travel South, and having bade good-by to a certain -hotel in Philadelphia, which don't begin with A or B, and which, if -you have not, you _ought_ to--C, leaves hope and comfort behind; -having then left what, in my opinion, is the perfection of -hotel-keeping, in all its myriad departments. Farewell to clean rooms, -and _genuine_ coffee, and well-cooked meats, and prompt attendance; -and welcome drafts, and cooked poison, in every shape that the fiend -of the gridiron and frying-pan could devise. Having exhausted -Washington three or four different times from a luxurious standpoint, -it only remained on this flying transit through it, for Washington to -exhaust me, between the hours of eight in the evening and seven the -following morning. In one of the principal hotels of the place, I give -you, by way of curiosity, an inventory of the room into which we were -ushered. Imprimis--a bed, with sheets still warm with the print of the -last occupant; wash-bowls grimy with departed paws; dirty towels; and -a broken window pane, through which the snow was sifting; two immense -grease spots, each the size of a two-quart bowl, in the centre of the -dingy carpet; matches scattered round _ad libitum_; a horror of a -spitoon in the middle of the floor; dirty window-curtains, and closets -full of old papers; bureau drawers saturated with grease; bedstead -cracked across the foot-board, and so rickety, that it was suggestive -of a discordant music-box. Sofa dingy, and placed with singular -felicity immediately under the broken window; while the looking-glass -was fastened to the top of a bureau, so high, that one need mount a -stool to look in it, and located, as usual, in the darkest corner of -the apartment; a woollen cloth on the centre-table, approachable only -by a pair of tongs. Finally a chamber-maid was procured, and towels, -sheets, and a fire followed, while we were at tea. Afterward my -companion lay down to rest (?) on the music-box; while I, upon the -dingy sofa, front of the fire, listened, laughing, to the squeaks -produced on it, by his attempts to sleep. - -My reflections were various. I didn't wonder that Congressmen lodging -thus, should call naughty names, and tear each other's eyes out at the -Capitol. And what disgraceful, broken-down saloon surroundings are -about the Capitol building! I never look at its beautiful proportions -without incendiary desires to make a clean sweep of the old shanties -about it, and in their place introduce cleanliness and beauty. Who -knows the Christianizing effect it might have on men and measures? I -should like to see it tried. - -Well, I went "on to Richmond;" and my first reflection upon getting -into it was, Lord! what a place for two big armies to fight about! A -cold, piercing, rasping wind blew through the dismal streets from the -river--a wind that would have done credit to old Boston at its -fiercest. As to hotels, the deterioration begins at Baltimore, and -"after that the deluge." As the horror-struck man said, when the -tail-board of his cart came out going up hill, and distributed his -potatoes right and left, "No swearing could do justice to it!" Amid -remains of former splendor, dilapidation and stagnation reign. - -Two visits I shall never forget. The first was to Libby prison. I -looked through its grated, cobwebbed windows, not with _my_ eyes, but -with the hopeless eyes of hundreds whose last earthly glimpse of the -sunlight was through them. The walls having been whitewashed, we -discovered no marks or writings. Only upon the wooden floor, as the -dirt was cleared away for us, we saw a place chipped out, upon which -the prisoners had played checkers. Not far off was Belle Isle, where, -in just such a biting wind from the river, as excoriated our faces -that day, brave men, without shelter, froze and starved to death! - -Yes, I passed through Washington, and I didn't want office either. Had -I, I think my patience would soon have oozed out, in the stifling -atmosphere of that room in the White House, where clamorous lobbyists -sat with distended eyes, watching the chance of their possible -entrance to the President's presence--sat there, too, for weary hours, -a spectacle to gods and men; of human beings willing to sacrifice -self-respect and time, and what little money they had left in their -purses, for the gambler's chance. Anything, everything, but the open -and above-board, and sure and independent, and old-fashioned way of -getting a living! - -So I thought as the living stream poured in, and I went out, thankful -that I desired nothing in the gift of the President of the United -States of America. How any man living can wish to be President passes -my solving, I said, as I stepped out into the clear, fresh, bracing -air, and shook my shoulders, as if I had really dropped a burden of my -own under that much-coveted roof. I can very well conceive that a pure -patriot might wish the office, because he sincerely believed himself -able to serve his country in it, and _therefore_ accepted its crown of -thorns; but lacking this motive, that a man in the meridian of life, -or descending its down-hill path, and consequently with the full -knowledge of this life's emptiness, should stretch out _even one hand_ -to grasp such a distracting position, I can never understand. The good -dame "who went to sleep with six gallons of milk on her mind" every -night, was a fool to do it. A step-mother's life under the harrow were -paradise to it; only the life of a _country_ clergyman who writes -three sermons a week, and attends weddings at sixpence a piece, and -hoes his own potatoes, and feeds the pigs, and is on hand for church -and vestry meetings during the week, and keeps the run of all the -new-born babies and their middle names, and is always, in a highly -devotional frame of mind, is a parallel case. - -I should like to have taken all those lobbyists I saw in the White -House with me the afternoon of that day to "Arlington Heights," and -bade them look there at the thousands of head-stones, gleaming white -like the billows of the sea in the sunlight, far as the eye could -reach, labelled "unknown," "unknown," telling the simple tragic story -of our national struggle more effectually than any sculptured monument -could have done. I would like to have shown them this, to see if for -one moment it had power to paralyze those eager hands outstretched for -bubbles. - -"Unknown?" Not to him, in whose book every one of those names are -written in letters of light! Not to him, in whose army of the faithful -unto death, there are no "privates"! - -My eyes were blind with tears, as I signed my name in the visitor's -book at the desk of the Freedman's Bureau there, once General Lee's -residence. All _was_ "quiet on the Potomac," as its blue waters -glittered in the sunlight before us. Yet the very air was thick with -utterances. The place on which I stood is now indeed holy ground. And -far off rose the white dome of the Capitol, crowded with men, some of -them, thank God, not forgetting these white head-stones, in their -efforts to keep inviolate what these brave fellows died for; and some, -alas! willing to sell their glorious birthright for a "mess of -pottage." - -The sharp contrast of luxury and squalor, in Washington, even -exceeding New York,--the carriages and their liveries, and the -sumptuous dames inside; the pigs which run rooting round the streets; -the tumble-down, shambling, rickety carts, with their bob-tailed, -worn-out donkeys, so expressive of lazy unthrift,--must be regarded -with the eye of a New Englander, trained to thoroughness and -"faculty," to be properly appreciated. I avow myself, cursed or -blessed, as you will, with the New England "bringing up," to which -anything that "hangs by the eyelids" is simple crucifixion, whether it -be in a cart or a statute-book, unhinged door, or a two or a -four-legged dawdle. - -"Oh, you'd come into it, and be as lazy as anybody," said my -companion, "if you lived here a while." - -Shade of the Pilgrim Fathers!--Assembly's Catechism!--baked -beans--fish-balls--"riz" brown bread! Never! - -I didn't see Vinnie Ream's statue of Lincoln. It was boxed for Italy, -Congress having made the necessary appropriation. But I saw Vinnie. -She has dimples. Senators like dimples. And in case the statue is not -meritorious, why--I would like to ask, amid the crowd of lobbying -_men_, whose paws are in the national basket, after the loaves and -fishes--should not this little woman's cunning white hand have slily -drawn some out? - - - - -_THE COMING LANDLORD._ - - -It is a marvel to me that country landlords do not better arrange -their houses, with a view to keeping their guests later in the lovely -autumnal days. The absence of gas, and the omnipresence of -bad-smelling kerosene, are great drawbacks to enjoyment in the chilly -evenings which follow these golden days. Fires which get low at the -very moment they are most needed in the sitting-rooms, and a cold -dining-hall, filled with kitchen-smoke, are not incentives to a -prolonged stay; add to this, the utter impossibility of finding one's -way of an evening through a village guiltless of lights and shrouded -in trees, and it is no marvel that city people begin to think of cosey -evenings by their own firesides where are both warmth and light, -without which Paradise itself were a desert. - -I think landlords who have an eye to business should take what may -seem to them, perhaps, very _uninfluential_ motives, under serious -consideration. I am very sure that if their own houses were made -comfortable for the autumn, enough lovers of the season would remain -to reward them pecuniarily for any such foresight. Let the fashionists -go--there are plenty left to rejoice in the crisp air, the falling -bright-hued leaves, the glory of sunshine and shadow on the -mountain-tops, and the keen sense of _life at the full_ which comes of -wandering among them. - -I think _I_ should understand engineering an hotel! I know just where -the shoe pinches, at least, which is half the battle. In the first -place, I wouldn't smoke a pipe, and then I should not be tempted to -put those halcyon moments before the comfort and convenience of my -guests, how imperative soever the occasion. Then my temper would be -angelic, and I could understand how every lady in the house could -"have her room cleared up" at one and the same moment, though the -lady-guests numbered a full hundred! Then--I should see my way clear -to let every little child on the premises dig deep holes in the gravel -walk which leads to the front door, and fill them with water, for -infantile amusement, and to further the laudable ambition of the -nurses, in reading fourth-rate pamphlet novels. Then I should better -understand my duty in riding ten miles to get a watermelon for one -lady, eleven miles to get a quart of peaches for another, and six -miles for grapes for a third; and, at the same time, be on the piazza, -to be a walking Time-Table for strangers and others who wish -information at short notice on railroad subjects. Were I a non-smoker, -I should be consolable under the necessity of remaining out of my bed -till the latest midnight reveller had gone to his, and up in the -morning before daylight, to be sure that the eggs for the departing -Grumble family were cooked neither too hard nor too soft. Also, I -would have _one pane of glass_ in each _chamber_-window in the house a -looking-glass, immovably inserted, for the benefit of those ladies who -prefer some light while combing their hair. Those who dreaded the -light on that occasion might fall back upon the time-honored -looking-glass which landlords are sure to locate in the darkest corner -of the room. Then I could see my way clear to take files of all the -city papers for the children in the house to make kites of, or for -ladies to wrap parcels or curl their hair in. Also, I should provide -compact and portable lanterns, with an accompanying servant, for the -use of those ladies who fancy evening rambles through a dark village -street. - -You will see by this how inexhaustible is this subject, and how much -remains to be done, which only a _female_ mind could foresee, or -suggest. I generously give these hints to unenlightened landlords, -free of charge, and doubt not that my next summer's travels will -attest not only their practicability, but their execution; meantime we -are going home; to coffee, _real_ coffee, praised be Allah for that! -It is bad to leave the mountains, but chiccory is not palatable -either. - -It is hard to break up a pleasant summer party, at the close of the -season, for we never can take it up again where we leave off. For some -there will be weddings, for some there will be funerals--good-by, said -so gaily, will surely be final to some of us who utter it. We shall -take up the paper some day, and a well-known name will catch the eye -in that dark list of bereavement. We shall recall its owner on _that_ -morning of the party to the "mountain," or the "lake," and the bright -eye, and the flowing hair, and the voice of music--and then the world -will close round us, and all will go on as before, till our turn -comes, too, to be forgotten. - - * * * * * - -We never quite realize how dear any particular face is to us until we -meet it in a crowd of strangers' faces. It is only then that we begin -to know that we do not love it simply for its beauty; that there is -something more in it to us than pure outline and sweet color, or -whatever its particular charm may be. We have been hurrying on perhaps -up Broadway--a stream of unknown people on the left, and another on -the right. We have thought "how beautiful" of some, "how ugly" of -others. Suddenly we think, "It is ----." We do not compare, we do not -criticize. We may vaguely recognize the fact that it is the plainest -or the prettiest face we have met; but that has nothing to do with it. -There comes our friend, blotting out the strangers as though they were -not. Even if we pass and do not speak, our hearts meet and soften; and -we are happier throughout the whole long day, for having met a -friend's face in a crowd. - - - - -_OUT ON THE END OF CAPE ANN._ - - -Good-by, City! I'm off! Now that wretched ragman may jingle the six -great cow-bells attached to his miserable hand-cart, to his heart's -content. They have driven me to the verge of distraction with their -monotonous clang--clang--clang, ever since the weather was warm enough -to sit with open windows. How many times I have resolved to call the -attention of the policeman on our "beat" to this illegal disturbance -of the peace; particularly as he chooses _our_ street to meander up -and down in, merely because I am a scribbler, and it drives me -mad--why else does he do it? For Heaven knows, I never did, or would -bestow a "rag" upon him, though I never was to see _paper_ again. -Good-by to the unfeeling wretch; I bequeath him to the unfortunates I -leave behind; who like myself are too lazy to chase up a policeman for -his summary ejection. - -Good-by, I say again. I am going out to grass. I shall shortly find a -clover-field where I intend to bury my disgusted nose until October. -So anybody who chooses may leave their odorous dirt-barrels on the -sidewalk till sundown to regale neighborly olfactories. The postman -may pull my bell-wire till it breaks; he will get no response from -me. I don't care who didn't do what; or when it wasn't done. I'm for -_Katy-dids_! - -I've done with shopping, thank Heaven! If my clothes or shoes give -out, let 'em. I've done with grocer-boys, and ice-men, and bakers, and -brewers. I'm going back to milk and nature; and I'm going to be -weighed before I go, to see what will come of it. - -Perhaps I shall meet you there; and you--and you. If I should, for -Heaven's sake don't talk "shop" to me. Speak of "caows" and -"medder-land," and welcome--but don't mention books, not even my last -new one, "Folly as it Flies," which any of you who can, are welcome to -read--_I_ can't. And don't pump me as you always do, to know "what -sort of a man is Mr. Bonner?" I tell you, once for all, that he is the -_right_ sort, and you couldn't improve on that. - -And if you see me coming in to dinner, and think it worth while to -announce the fact, in a place where there is a dearth of news, just do -it quietly, so that I shan't feel like throwing a biscuit at your -head, and don't think, because I am a literary woman, that I live on -violets and dew--I don't. I wear awful thick shoes, and go out in the -mud, and like to get stuck there; and I am horrid old--fifty-six--and -ugly besides; and I shall speak when I feel like it, and when I don't, -I shan't, because it is too much to be on my good behavior all the -year round, and this is my vacation. - -Now we have settled all that, I hope, and there's nothing left but to -toss my traps into my trunk, and lock it. I don't care much whether -there is anything inside of it or not, for I'm desperate. These few -last hot days have finished me. I'm almost afraid to trust myself to -"write a character" for my departing chamber-maid, I feel so savage. -You can take her, though; the only crime she will have to "carry to -confession" is, that when she puts my room "to rights," she invariably -turns the table which has a drawer in it, the _drawer-side next the -wall_. To a person of my feeble intellect, this is distracting, -especially in the dark; and I have so many distractions, and am so -much in the dark, that really, Father Malooney, or some other nice -priest, ought to jog her elbow on this point. They who will may abuse -Roman Catholic priests--every _sensible housekeeper_ knows their -value. Long life to the like of 'em, _I_ say. - -Good-by! If I am smashed on the railroad, weep over my _pieces_. I -think you told me you had already done that--on less provocation. - -Geography never could find a lodgement in my head; but this I will -assert, without fear of being sent to "the foot of the class," that -granite, fish, and sand, are the principal products of Cape Ann. When -you go down Broadway and see those square stone blocks in process of -being pounded down for our mutual benefit, know that I am up here, a -self-constituted superintendent of the work. Said a Cape-Ann-der the -other day, "When you see six hundred ton of granite taken out of a -quarry every week for the whole summer, you'd _not_-erally think that -'twould leave a hole there, but it don't." I mention this remark to -you as a proof of the fertility of the soil. - -Needle and thread are not to be despised any more than the deft -fingers which ply them; but you should sit on a big stone at one of -the quarries, and watch four or five of these stalwart fellows, each -muscular hand grasping the hammer, coming down rhythmically, surely, -powerfully, at the same instant, hour after hour, on the same huge -granite block, till it is shaped for its purpose. It was a grand and -suggestive sight to me. The men who did it were heroes; shaping--who -can tell what?--monuments for history--public buildings--that will -stand long after you and I are forgotten. And the other side of these -exhaustless stone caverns rolled the broad ocean, waiting to float off -on its mighty bosom these huge masses of granite to any desired port. -And close by were woods, so filled with song, and perfume, and deep, -cool shadows, and soft hum of insect life, and ancient trees, -moss-coated, where the swell of the ocean and the sound of all this -labor came with muffled breath, as if fearful to bring jarring discord -to all that harmony. This granite, thought I, may stand for our -pilgrim fathers; these woods, with their song and perfume, for their -wives and daughters, who brought to this "rock-bound coast" the -softening influence of their sweet, holy presence. - -Away from all this, over the hill, down in the village, are the -stores, and, more important to me, the post-office. I don't know what -our pilgrim fathers did, but I know that to-day their descendants -close them when they go to tea or dinner, while expectant customers -patiently _roost_ on the neighboring fences till their places reopen. -But I am happy to state that the Cape-Ann-ders make up for this -placidity when they get hold not only of granite, but of horse-flesh. -It is their stereotyped rule to race up-hill, at break-neck speed. It -is therefore needless to state how they go _down-hill_ and how -perfectly immaterial to them it is whether the horse fetches up in a -stone-quarry or in the ocean. I ought to know, for I have danced often -enough into the wet grass and dust, and over stone walls, in order to -save my neck, to know. You see the Cape-Ann-ders, being born with oars -in their hands, have not studied horse-flesh like Mr. Bonner. The -ocean is their hunting-ground. One can't excel in all the virtues; but -such fish as they coax out of it, and such chowder as they make of it, -would go far to make one forget their equestrianism. I've seen about -every kind of fish on the table except whales, of which I had my first -astonished view yesterday. That _bulk can be frisky_ was the first -lesson they taught me. As to their spouting, a political meeting is -nothing to it! When they came up out of water to breathe, you might -have heard them in New York--that is, if the rag-man, with his six -infernal jangling cow-bells, hadn't been going through your street. - -There is nothing I have sighed for in those streets since I left them, -except some digestible bread. I suppose you know _that_ commodity is -seldom furnished _out_ of the city. If you don't, you may read it in -the faces of nearly every woman, and child too, after a certain age, -in the country. The _men_, by virtue of working in the open air, worry -through with it better. _Saleratus_, _soda_, _shortening_, _grease_, -and sugar! these are as infallibly married to pills, and castor-oil, -and rhubarb, and bitters, as are the sexes to each other. All over New -England, in these lovely leafy homes, with the blessing of sweet, -pure, untainted air, with literally _no_ excuse for sickness, vile -bread vitiates and neutralizes God's best gifts. - -The cupboards and closets of these naturally healthy homes are stuffed -full of "physic;" and the country doctor, who _ought_, in these lovely -villages, to be a pauper, thrives on the disastrous consumption of -FRIED _everything_, and clammy bread. Meantime my excellent country -friends put up pounds and quarts of "_jell_" every fall. Now, let them -know that half, or a quarter of the time spent in making these -indigestible sugary concoctions, if spent in learning to make good -bread, would obliterate all traces of dyspepsia both under their belts -and in their faces. If I seem to speak unkindly, I do not feel so; -only it seems to me such a useless waste of material, and what is -infinitely worse, such a criminal waste of health, that I cannot help -entering my earnest protest against it. - -I boldly assert that dyspepsia _in the country_ is a disgrace. The -birds' song is not heard by a dyspeptic. The flowers by the road-side -throw out no incense for him. There may be fish in _his_ ocean, but -there is no beauty there. How can there be with _that_ fiend plucking -at his suspenders? - -And oh, the country washerwoman! Can anybody tell why she, having -tried her fists only on red flannel, calico, and sheets, should -announce herself as a professional laundress, and up to the mysteries -of bluing, rinsing, clear-starching, and ironing? Trustingly you place -your linen in her hands, and she departs to some spot where sun, fresh -air, clover-blossoms, and plenty of water are all in her favor. In -process of time she returns your clothes. The next morning your -husband reproachfully requests you to examine _that_ shirt-bosom, with -its streaks of bluing, its little globules of starch, and its scorched -spots, presenting a zebra front rivalled only in a menagerie. Now, -perhaps shirt-bosoms are the only part of your husband's apparel in -which he takes any interest; your educatory efforts in behalf of his -gloves, boots, &c., having failed utterly; for that reason you weep, -that this single germ of neatness, thus untimely nipped in the bud, -should cause him to backslide into that normal slovenliness from which -woman alone delivers him. - -Well--he struggles into that shirt-bosom, and, with a man's inability -to face disagreeable things, goes off without consulting his -looking-glass; and you sit on the side of the bed, with your hair in -your eyes, contemplating a pair of "clean" stockings just taken from -your drawer. - -_That_ streak of dirt, carefully preserved, was got last week down on -the rocks, from contact with seaweed; and that in the meadows, where -you went for ferns and wild flowers; and that, when you slipped one -leg down a deep and treacherous dirt-hole, trying to get a big -blackberry. You can identify every one. You go to your closet for a -gingham dress. When you put it in the wash it was gray, now it is a -sickly green. You get a "clean" collar and cuffs--they are both -saffron color. You are rather particular about the mixing of tints, -and so have to give up the idea of a bow at your neck that will "go" -with this rainbow apparel, and fall back, instead, on a safe jet pin, -as emblematic also of your feelings. - -I don't mention in this connection a little habit the country -washerwoman has of returning Mrs. Smith's husband's flannel drawers, -instead of the conjugal pair which generally delight my eyes, well -mended and with buttons on the waistband, (hem!) while _Smith's_ are -in a state of non-repair, disgusting even to "a literary woman." I -don't speak of my cambric under-waist, irretrievably torn down the -back, or Smith's night-gown, about half the length of mine, which last -is probably at that moment quietly reposing beside _Mrs._ Smith; but I -pause to ask you to survey--yes, _survey_, for that is the proper -word--this great table-cloth of a pocket-handkerchief of Smith's -instead of my own dear little hem-stitched one, with a tiny fern-leaf -in the corner. As to Smith's socks, they make it their home in my -room, without any permit from the priest. I'm getting sick of Smith. - -Again, my sisters, can you tell me why the country washerwoman -invariably appears with her bundle of "clean" clothes just as you are -starting for a ride, or going down to breakfast? Can one enjoy lovely -scenery, or relish one's coffee and eggs, while this intermarriage of -strange stockings and nightgowns is going on in one's room, and the -fruitless hunt for ten cents to make "even change" is looming up in -the horizon? I am constrained to say that in what light soever I view -the country washerwoman, she is ----. Yes, ma'am! - -P.S.--A Cape Ann editor gave me a box on the ear the other day for -some remark I made on country washing. Now be it known that I am so -accustomed to a boxed ear in a good cause, that I have learned to -stiffen up to it, and I can endure it now without even winking. - -But to business. This Cape Ann editor inquires, "why, if I do not like -the Cape Ann washing, I do not get out the wash-tub, and wash my -clothes myself." I smile serenely, while I answer, that while Mr. -Bonner pays me enough for my articles to buy out this editor's -printing-office, I prefer to do precisely what _he_ would do, were he -in my place--turn my back on the wash-tub and face the inkstand. Is he -answered? I am sorry also to inform him that all womanhood seems to be -"marching on" to the same or similar results, and that by and by men -will have to choose their words in addressing "women folks;" not, I -hope, for fear of being "knocked down," but because woman, be she -married or single, being able to earn her own living independent of -marriage,--that often hardest and most non-paying and most thankless -road to it,--she will no longer have to face the alternative of -serfdom or starvation, but will marry, when she does marry, for love -and companionship, and for co-operation in all high and noble aims and -purposes, _not_ for bread and meat and clothes; and the men who sneer -at this picture are always sure to be men with souls narrow as a -railroad track, who never look or desire to look beyond the curve and -out into the wide world of progress. - -_Then_, if a woman's husband dies, she will not stay to hear his or -her relatives disputing over his dead body which shall contribute -_least_ to her support. No: she will rub the tears out of her eyes, -and taking her children by the hand, pocket the well-earned wages of a -book-keeper; or she will be an architect; or she will write books, or -open a store; or she may even rise to the dignity of editor of a "Cape -Ann" paper--who knows?--or through any one of the open doors through -which the light of woman's millennium is shining, she will pass -serenely to collect her dividends. No more hysterics, sirs! no more -fainting! no more trudging miles to match a ribbon! no more eating her -heart out, trying to bear rough usage! She wont _have_ rough usage! -She will be in a position to receive good treatment, from _motives of -policy_, from those natures which are incapable of better and higher. -She will, in short, stand on her own blessed independent feet, so far -as "getting a living" is concerned, as I do to-day, and able to make -mouths even at Cape Ann, which--blessed be its rocks and -"cunner"!--has not yet found the philosopher's stone, or made, even -out of its vile bread, a "dyspeptic" of me, as its editor asserts. - -Me "a dyspeptic"?--me! who could eat a block of its granite for -dinner, and ask for another for dessert?--me! who, at fifty-eight, can -tramp ten miles, every day, over its horrid rocky roads, and come back -red as a peony and fresh as a lark!--me a dyspeptic? I am sorry to -inform "Cape Ann" that I am as "live" as one of its whales, and none -of its harpoons will ever finish me. And that my mission, wheresoever -I sojourn in summer, is to preach down bad country washing, and bad -bread, and country dyspepsia; and Cape Ann might as well, first as -last, burn down its churches, for sal-eratus and sal-vation will never -wed; for the victims of the former will walk this bright earth, so -full of sparkle and sunshine and fragrance and bloom, with bowed -heads, contracted chests, and pallid faces, nursing the dyspeptic's -cherished vision of an "_angry God_"! That's where bad bread lands -them! - -As to "washing," bless you! there was a time when I did all my own -washing, and did it well too. That's the way I came to know how to -speak with authority on the starch and flat-iron question; and -besides, as I said before, if Mr. Bonner will insist on paying my -washing bills, whose business is it, save his and mine? He is quite -welcome. - - * * * * * - -There are people who get up in the morning for the express purpose of -making somebody uncomfortable before the day is out. They generally -pitch upon some sunny-faced, happy, singing human lark carolling high -above the ditches and marshes of life, soaring in the blue ether of -his happiness, nearer God and the angels than he himself knows -anything about, and, taking practised aim at some vulnerable point, -bring him plump down, with maimed wing, to flutter in the dust. Now -what is good enough for such a miscreant? The more you flutter the -better he likes it; every writhe of your agonized spirit is delicious -music to this vulture; there is one other person in the world as -uncomfortable as himself. What right had _you_ to be happy when _his_ -liver was out of order? It was clearly a piece of impertinent -presumption, and so there you lie moaning and turning, the sunshine -all gone, the chill mist of despondence gathering thick about you, and -your persecutor standing by, turning you over now and then with his -foot, to see if there is life enough left for a fresh attack. - - - - -_COUNTRY DIET._ - - -Foreign missions and missionaries. These have their place and their -work. What _I_ want to see is a Home Mission and Home Missionaries, -having for an object the extermination of the unhealthy and _immoral_ -bread of New England. When matters have got to that pass that a -perfectly sound, healthy person cannot decline eating this poison -without being supposed to have an imperfect digestion, the climax of -stupidity and ignorance is reached by its makers and defenders. "_The -heathen?_" Great Cesar! who _are_ heathen, if the makers of this bread -are not? I know of a factory where pie, whose principal ingredient is -"lard," is the staple article of food placed before the operatives. -And so imperfectly is it baked, that the lard is not really melted in -the process. This for _breakfast_! with muddy coffee and sour bread! -This for supper, with sour bread. This "pie" taken to the factory for -lunch or dinner also. Imagine a hundred or so of young women feeding -on such poison as that. Future wives, possibly, of hard-working -mechanics, expected to do the family washing, and bear and rear -children, on the results of such an atrocious diet. It were enough to -expect them even to bear themselves, robbed of the vitality and -spring of their youth by these fiendish providers. The man who sets -fire to a house at night, and smothers all the inmates, is a saviour -in comparison. _They_ die at once. _These_ linger weary years, -fighting disease, fighting gloomy thoughts, as truly needing -compassion and sympathy as any victim of delirium-tremens. Now take a -girl, fresh from the old country, her cheeks red with the rich, pure -blood manufactured from sweet-milk, potatoes, and oatmeal, and place -her in one of these factories on this fare. It needs no seer to tell -how long, even with such a stock of health as she brings, that she can -stand this exterminating process; how long before those sound white -teeth will begin to ache and blacken, and the bright clear eyes dim, -and the cheek wear yellow instead of red roses, and the flesh become -flabby, and the whole creature become demoralized. Now, I ask, Is -nobody guilty for all this waste and wreck? Is it any more trouble to -make sweet, wholesome bread, than to manufacture and multiply bad -pies? As a matter of policy, wouldn't these operatives work better on -a piece of beefsteak and a slice of sweet bread, than on pie and -pickles? As a matter of _morality_, ought not such caterers to be held -to strict account? Can _virtue_ even flourish where the whole head is -sick, and the whole heart faint; when morbidness takes the place of -hope, and faith is merged in despair? What wonder that of dyspepsia -should come the suicide's rope? - -And as to the usual country boarding-house or hotel fare, for which -the keepers of these places coolly pocket their fees, I propose some -deduction be made by them for the doctor's bills consequent the -ensuing winter; some reduction for the sour milk that the children -have drunk, because the cans in which it was kept were not properly -washed and aired, or the ice-house kept in good order; some reduction -for the state of the stomach caused by taking refuge from bad bread in -poor crackers; some reduction for generating such a disgust of meat, -from the sight of it in its various stages of raw, burnt, and -grease-soaked, that weeks or months even of wholesome food can -scarcely tempt one trial of the article; some reduction for aching -limbs produced by bunchy beds an entire "season;" some reduction for -boarders performing the part of "waiters," through the season, in the -total absence of bell-wires in the establishment; some reduction for -inhaling the noxious gases of refuse kitchen matter, carelessly thrown -around the house, or the nuisance of beating about the country in -search of a washerwoman. Before the bill is finally settled, and the -trunks packed, I would like to see these questions considered by the -country landlord. - -But you say, "It is all ignorance; _they don't know any better_." As -if that was not just where the agony came in! As if an "_ignorant_" -person had any right to take such a position, or any right to expect -anything like the same pay as a competent, intelligent one receives. - -Now I have made up my mind to "speak in meetin'". I don't care how -many country editors jump on the fence and say, "Silence!" I wont _be_ -silent. I intend to fight a crusade against this crying sin of New -England, so long as I can make a pen wag; and anybody whose rustic -feathers get ruffled in the process may take his own time to oil them -down. I persist that I have never yet "boarded" anywhere in the -country that I found wholesome bread there, or meat cooked other than -_fried_, unless it has been through line upon line and precept upon -precept of my own; and that in these awful experiences of mine, Cape -Ann bears off the palm. There! I am going to-morrow to the city to get -some decent bread--the only place where it is to be found--and get -some fish; for if you want fish, never go where they swim. Put that in -your note-book too. - -And now, in conclusion, I will add, that in a place where, through -sour bread and sour theology, the element of cheerfulness is -especially needed to keep the young folks from turning into premature -vinegar cruets, it is a very great pity that at a picnic their only -outlet for conviviality--dancing, by the youngsters--should be -considered a sin. "It would break up the whole thing--it would never -do!" was the reply to a philanthropic suggestion of the kind. Heavens! -I wonder they don't fetter the legs of their lambs and calves; and -insist upon all their birds singing, "Hark! from the tombs a dreadful -sound!" Do you know what young people so brought up will do?--that is, -if they don't commit suicide first. They'll just go to the city, and -break every one of the ten commandments smack through, the first day -they get there. Alas! when will "good people" learn that the devil is -never better pleased than when they try to make "religion" a gloomy -thing. - - * * * * * - -Said a little child to her mother, "Shall you live as long as I -do?"--"Perhaps not--but I cannot tell," was the reply; "I have lived a -long while, you know."--"Well," said the little one, skipping about -the room and singing, "I guess there'll be somebody to take care of -me." Oh, ye who are "careful and troubled,"--groping like the mole in -the earth, blind to the brightness overhead, look up! like this little -trusting child, look up! When you have made provision for to-day, as -intelligently as you know how, do not be anxiously forecasting the -morrow. - - - - -_FROM MY SEAT ON THE ROCKS._ - - -"Dog-fish, cat-fish, cod-fish, cunner." These are the animals that my -friends paddle round for long hours--happy whether they are rewarded -with the sight of five or fifty. Meantime I sit on the rocks, watching -the pretty picture they make as they go sailing into the sunset, and -am content. _My_ feet are _dry_; so are my skirts. We have only one -thing in common: when they shout, "I have a bite!" I respond, -Amen!--with this difference, that mine is from a mosquito instead of a -fish. The ocean is nice to look at: freaky--therefore I think it must -be a _she_; sometimes dark and lowering, sometimes brightly sparkling; -now smooth as deceit, anon lashing itself like a caged creature to get -out of bounds. Don't you believe I enjoy it more than those damp -people that are always vexing it with rod and line? As I said, they -look well as a part of the picture. Those deluded women, now, with -broad hats tied down with bright bits of ribbon--and didn't they -calculate the picturesqueness of the same when they bought yards of it -a thousand miles away? Certainly. And why do they ruin their best -boots treading on rocks covered with treacherous seaweed? And why is -that scarlet shawl disposed just where it will be effective? Answer me -that. Can it be that they are fishers of men instead of cod? Ah! -"worms" are not the only "bait" in that boat. I wonder do men know how -much more attractive they look in slouched hats and easy jackets? Kid -gloves, shiny hat, and tight boots are nothing to it. A man looks -manly then; and that, I take it, is the first requisite in a man. See -how they dress for _their_ work, my sisters. Sleeves up to the elbow, -not for the purpose of showing a round white arm either; trousers -turned up at the heel; while you--! Wont the laundress rub the skin -off her knuckles when she tries to get the fish-bait off _your_ -ruffled skirt, my dear? You can't be made to believe that those -gentlemen would like you just as well in a dress suitable for "worms." -But, all things being equal, I really think they would; or, if they -didn't, their opinion would be a matter of small consequence. - -I wish I could understand the difference between a brig, a sloop, a -dory, a schooner, and a yacht. I have had them explained so many times -at the seaside, but it has never yet lodged in my head a minute. I -think the reason is, that before my expounders get half through -telling, my eyes are so enchained by the gliding beauty of a boat's -motion, that I have no ears for technicalities. That's it--and I'm not -such a fool after all! I wish my belt were a little more to be -depended on, for I'd like to drift over to the Isle of Shoals, or to -Newburyport, or some of those places at which the sea-fog plays hide -and seek so temptingly from these rocks. Of course I "can go by land;" -but did _you_ never get possessed to do or to have what the Fates -denied? Well, I'm human too. You may catch those wriggling fish if you -fancy--I don't wonder they make such horrid mouths at you before they -die--if only I could drift dreamily away into that golden sunset? -"Gates of amethyst and pearl!" I'm glad my Bible has "Revelations" in -it. I don't know any poet who comes better to my assistance than -Revelations. Keren Happuch, and Obed, and Jael--and "them" I am apt to -skip; also who "begat Shem;" but the grand old "Psalms" and -Revelations, I tell you, Tennyson, or any other "Son," may in vain -crack their harp-strings trying to rival. Then imagine that watery -dilution of a "Tupper" after reading a chapter in "Proverbs"! Put this -in your note-book--that about all the good things you clap your hands -at were stolen from the Bible. Brush the dust from off yours now, and -see if it is not so; and have the grace to own up, when you do see it. - -My heart is torn trying to decide whether my allegiance finally be -given to the mountains or the ocean. I can see with my mind's eye -lovely Brattleboro' and its enchanting mountains, the mist rolling -slowly off their sides at sunrise, crowning their tops with many-hued -wreaths; or I can see one gorgeous cloud at sunset resting lightly on -their summit, and gradually fading away before the growing lustre of -the bright evening star. All these pictures are framed in my memory, -and never a tint has faded out through the busy years. But this later -love of mine--the ocean--whom I perforce must admire at a respectful -distance, sinuous, cold, treacherous, glittering, repelling, yet -fascinating me as does the serpent the bird, I know not how to resist. -Only last night this ocean drew a mist-veil softly over its face, and -by help of a huge black cloud above it, jaggedly notched in and out at -the upper edge, cunningly wooed me, in this mountain shape, to believe -that whatsoever form I liked, that form _it_ could assume to win me. -Surely such devotion should have its reward. - - - - -_WISHINGS AND LONGINGS._ - - -Did you never _wish_ you had it? Of course you have, a thousand times. -You never would be miserable any more if it could only be so. You are -sure of that. It may be a fine house, a fine store, a fine carriage. -No matter what; the desire for it has taken the spice and flavor out -of every blessing you possess. I used to play with a little girl once, -who told me in confidence, and in pantalettes, "that she should never -be happy till she had a real _true_ gold watch; and that she meant to -be married, as soon as ever she could, to a rich man who would give -her one." For myself, I had much rather at that time have had a bunch -of flowers, and I didn't suppose she really meant what she said, as -she stood there tying on her doll's bonnet. But she was in dead -earnest, though I _didn't_ know it. Sure enough, she got her rich -husband, and her gold watch; and was sick enough of both, as I have -since found out, before the honeymoon was well over. - -One day I heard a boy say to his younger brother, who was crying -lustily, "Now, Tom, I know you don't want anything, but what do you -_think_ you want?" That boy was a philosopher, and went to the root of -the matter. It is not what we really want, but what we _think_ we -want, that frets most of us. Perhaps you tell me that you suffer just -as much as if your longing were a reasonable or a sensible one. That's -true too; but if you only could snatch _to-day's_ legitimate -happiness, instead of wondering if you could not get a great deal -more, for that to-morrow which may never come to you, wouldn't it be -wiser? The other day I went off into the woods, with a dear little -girl, who is much more of a poetess than a philosopher. Not a patch of -soft green moss, not the tiniest bud of a wild flower, or flitting -butterfly, or bird, or tree-shadow on the smooth clear lake, escaped -her bright, glad eyes. The _first_ flower she found enraptured her, -and she climbed quite a steep rock with her mites of feet for the -second, and so on till her tiny hands were full. Just then she found -quite a bunch of bright pink blossoms; and I was so glad for her; when -suddenly she burst into such a grieved, piteous cry, "Oh dear! oh -dear! what _shall_ I do? _I can't hold them all._" - -If we'd only think of that! That "we can't hold them all." That in -order to grasp that which is the moment's wish, we must let something -else drop that we prize. Something that we can never retrace our -steps, in life's devious paths, to reclaim. It may be health, or -character, or life itself, for that which is so perishable, so -unsatisfying, so harmful, that we can never cease wondering how the -"glamour" of it could have so dazzled our mental and moral vision. The -little child I speak of, who clambered up the rock to secure that -_one_ flower, was happier in its possession than with the myriads -that she afterwards found lying at her very feet. She had _earned_ -that one! She had encountered a fierce briar-bush; she had got her -hands scratched in the conflict; she had tickled her little nose with -a defiant twig; she had tangled her curls; she had scraped her little -fat knee till it was red--and _got it_! All herself, too! I couldn't -elaborate a better moral, if I preached an hour. We don't value -happiness in heaps. It is the one little sweet blossom, that comes -unexpectedly in our way, that we love best after all. Isn't it so? - - * * * * * - -How cheap is advice! Advice is like a doctor's pills; how easily he -_gives_ them! how reluctantly he takes them when _his_ turn comes! -Meantime, it is well to keep one's eyes and ears open; but, after -that, to decide for one's self. He who cannot do this is a human -windmill, always beating the air--a weathercock, veering each minute -to a new point. His life is a succession of experiments, all of which -are predestined to be failures. He has no faith in himself, and people -accept him at his own valuation. - - - - -_A TRANSITION STATE._ - - -We seem to be in a transition state all round. Politics, religion, -woman's rights, men's wrongs, all seething in the caldron together; -and everybody's finger is being thrust into the boiling mess, and -pulled scalded out of it--some howling with the experiment, others -closing their pioneer teeth upon the pain, and bearing it for the good -of the cause. - -This seems to me to be the situation. For one, I am quite willing to -do humble duty by bringing fagots and kindling to keep the fire going, -no matter who "hollers." Anything is better than letting it go out; at -least so far as the woman question is one of the ingredients in the -caldron. The men having the top round of the ladder at present, may -sit there till we climb up and oust them, which wont be long; or -rather, bless their jackets, till we climb up and oblige them to make -room for us to sit down beside them, which, after all, is what we -really want. I, for one, make no secret of liking the brethren, but I -like them near--intellectually and socially. Not looking down at us -from a dizzy height, careless how we stumble by the road-side, or cut -our weary feet, or bruise our hearts, and stuffing their fingers in -their ears, and then making believe they don't hear our cries; but -helping us along generously after them, like good fellows, with a word -of cheer, and a full hearty belief in our good intentions and desire -to do _all_ our duty. Isn't that reasonable? To be sure it is; and the -only reason they don't always say so is, because, with their natural -impatience, they never can sit still long enough to hear us through, -when we talk common-sense. I believe the last question "up" was -woman's right to wait upon herself to concerts, lectures, theatres, -and the like, when she had no male escort. Now that is a subject that -has been pretty well ploughed over in my mind for years. I have known -so many bright, intelligent women obliged to stay at home when they -needed these relaxations from care and toil and bother, because custom -did not permit their attendance, unless they could lasso a coat and -hat to bear them company. It has seemed to me cruel in the extreme, -that this law should not be changed. As I understand it, in Paris a -respectable woman can do this, without discomfort or molestation, with -a _female_ attendant; and though it may be the deathblow to my -reputation to own that I never saw Paris, it is true, and I cannot -therefore judge how much more safe a woman would be in waiting upon -herself home in Paris, at the hour when public amusements are -generally over, than in New York. This, I presume, is the hitch in the -question. If so, women must wait till the majority of men are more -chivalric and spiritual, and that wont be to-day, nor to-morrow. Now, -a woman, by taking a big basket in her hand, and leaving her hoop at -home, and pinning an old shawl over her head, and tying a calico apron -round her waist, may walk unmolested. I know, because I have tried it -when I felt like having a "prowl" all alone, and a good "think," -without any puppy saying, at every step, "A pleasant evening, Miss." -But this costume isn't exactly festive for the concert or lecture -room. However, with other ingredients, this topic may be tossed into -the caldron above mentioned, and perhaps, after much boiling, may -deposit some substantial sediment of benefit to women. I see so many -men nowadays who ought to be women, that I am positively ashamed of -usurping the place of one. I am quite willing to abdicate, whenever -any one can be found to take a woman's place; but the joke begins -here, that the silliest man who ever lived has always known enough, -when he says his prayers, to thank God that he wasn't born a woman. So -you see how hopeless the case is. - - - - -_WHAT MARY THOUGHT OF JOHN._ - - -There's John, reading his newspapers. You might drive nails into his -temples, and he wouldn't know it. Look at him! Legs up. Head thrown -back. The inevitable and omnipresent pipe in his mouth; the very -picture of absorbed enjoyment. Three papers he has there. He will read -every one, criss-cross, cornerwise, upside down, and inside out, till -he has gleaned every particle of news. One good hour he has been at -it. Now if I say to him, "John, what is the news this morning?" that -man will reply, "Oh, none--nothing in particular; there they are; take -'em, if you would like." - -Now nobody in his senses believes that John has been employed one good -hour reading "nothing." He is only too lazy to tell what he has read; -that's the amount of it. Now I had much rather read those papers than -mend this coat of his. It is really too bad in John: he might have -given me something to think about, while I was doing it. An idea! -Suppose I try this lazy system on _him_! Now if there's anything men -like, when their wives come home with a budget of news, it is to have -them sit down and entertain them with it. Not about troubles of -servants and broken crockery, of course; but spicy little bits of -gossip; about their friend Jones' wife, and what the witty Mrs. ---- -said on such an occasion, and how the pretty and saucy Miss said if -_she_ were Smith's wife she would ----. How they like to hear all about -it! and how they like to question them as to how women think and feel -on such and such subjects, which information they can only obtain by -their wives turning state's-evidence! Of course they do; and when a -bright little woman has chattered to them an hour or more, and told -them more funny and amusing things than you could count, and they have -laughed and enjoyed it, what return do they make? Why they just -stretch their length on the sofa and go to sleep. Now I for one have -borne this state of things long enough! It is all owing to that vile -lethargic tobacco. Before long women will be expected to cut up their -food and feed them; they will be too lazy even to eat. Now I'll tell -you what I mean to do. I am going to stop giving out, and cut off -supplies, till I get something back. I'll just try the monosyllabic -system on John. He will say to-night, "Well, Mary, where have you been -to-day? and what have you seen?" And I'll answer, bending over my -work, "Oh, I went round a little, and I didn't see anything in -particular." Then John will take a scrutinizing look at me, and ask if -I have the headache; and I shall answer sweetly, "No, dear." Then John -will try again: "Well, Mary, did you go shopping?"--"I? no--oh, no, -dear. I didn't go shopping today." Another look at me, and another -period of reflection. "Have you heard any bad news, Mary?"--"No, -John, I hope not."--"Well--what the mischief makes you so silent? You -generally have so much to tell me, and you sometimes get off a very -bright thing, if you did but know it. _Something_ is the matter with -you; what is it?" and John will come round and peep into my face. "Oh! -pshaw--_I_ know; you are paying me off for not talking," he will say, -half-vexed, half-repentant. - -Then I shall get up on a chair, in the middle of the room, and preach -after this course: "Yes, John, that's just it. You haven't an idea how -stupid you've grown. I hate that lethargic tobacco! It is going to -revolutionize society; women are squirrel-like creatures and can't -stand it. No wonder all these spicy trials fill the papers. You -needn't laugh. It takes _two_ to make home bright. Don't you suppose -that a woman is as much perplexed and worried and sick of the -practical, at the end of the day, as a man can be? Do you suppose she -always feels like giving out the last remnant of her vitality to amuse -a statue? she wants a response; and she would have it, too, if a man's -soul and body were not so tobacco-steeped, that every sense and -feeling is merged in the one drowsy desire to let the world and -everything in it, including its wives, go to the dogs. _And they are -going, John!_ Now, lastly and finally, I tell you and all other Johns -who may read this, that it is the worst possible policy on your part, -as you would see if you ever read the papers with an eye to your own -firesides, which you don't. You can wonder how Smith's wife, or how -Jones' wife, could ever have done thus and so; but it never enters -your slow heads to ask, if the homes of these wives were silent and -cheerless, and if their husbands took all their attempts to enliven -them as matters of course, and gave no echo back; and that being the -case, whether the bright sunbeams outside, might not glitter too -temptingly for their weariness." And here I shall jump down from the -chair, and, looking at John, shall see--that he is _fast asleep_! - -Sometimes I sit and laugh, all by myself, over the newspapers and -magazines in which the "Woman Question" is aired according to the -differing views of editors and writers. For instance, one gentleman -thinks that the reason the men take a nap on the sofa evenings at -home, or else leave it to go to naughty places, is because there are -no Madame De Staels in our midst to make home attractive. He was -probably a bachelor, or he would understand that when a man who has -been perplexed and fretted all day, finally reaches home, the last -object he wishes to encounter is a wide-awake woman of the Madame De -Stael pattern, propounding her theories on politics, theology, and -literature. The veriest idiot who should entertain him by the hour -with tragic accounts of broken teacups, and saucepans, would be a -blessing compared to her; not that he would like that either; not that -he would know himself exactly what he _would_ like in such a case, -except that it should be something diametrically opposite to that, -which, years ago he got on his knees to solicit. - -Another writer asserts that women's brains are too highly cultivated -at the present day; and that they have lost their interest in the -increase of the census; and that their husbands, not sharing their -apathy, hence the disastrous result. I might suggest in answer that -this apathy may have its foundation in the idea so fast gaining -ground,--thanks to club-life, and that which answers to it in a less -fashionable strata of society,--that it is an indignity to expect -fathers of families to be at home, save occasionally to sleep, or eat, -or to change their apparel; and that, under such circumstances, women -naturally prefer to be the mother of four children, or none, than to -engineer seventeen or twenty through the perils of childhood and youth -without assistance, co-operation, or sympathy. - -Another writer thinks that women don't "smile" enough when their -husbands come into the house; and that many a man misses having his -shirt, or drawers, taken from the bureau and laid on a chair all ready -to jump into, at some particular day, or hour, as he was accustomed, -when he lived with some pattern sister or immaculate aunt at home. -This preys on his manly intellect, and makes life the curse it is to -him. - -Another asserts that many women have some female friend who is very -objectionable to the husband, in exerting a pugilistic effect on her -mind, and that he flees his house in consequence of this unholy -influence; not that this very husband wouldn't bristle all over at the -idea of his wife court-martialling a bachelor, or Benedict friend, for -the same reason; but then it makes a difference, you know, a man not -being a woman. - -Another writer asserts that nobody yet knows what woman is capable of -doing. I have only to reply that the same assertion cannot be made -with regard to men, as the dwellers in great cities, at least, know -that the majority of them are capable of doing anything, that the -devil and opportunity favor. - -It has been a practice for years to father every stupid joke that -travels the newspaper-round on "_Paddy_"--poor "Paddy." In the same -way, it seems to me that for every married man now, who proves untrue -to his better nature, _his wife_ is to be held responsible. It is the -old cowardly excuse that the first man alive set going, and which has -been travelling round this weary world ever since. "The woman thou -gavest to be with me"--_she_ did thus and so; and therefore all the -Adams from that time down, have whimpered, torn their hair, and rushed -forth to the long-coveted perdition, over the bridge of this cowardly -excuse. - - - - -_TRAVEL-SPOILED AMERICANS._ - - -This is one of my character tests,--to pronounce none of my -fellow-creatures _wise_ until they have gone through the crucible of -"going abroad." So many who started with a fair average of -common-sense have returned from their European tours minus this -article, that I need not apologize for my views on this subject. No -one can be more reverent in their admiration of all that the slow, -busy ages have heaped together in the Old World of the beautiful, and -scientific, and curious, and rare. But having looked at and enjoyed -them,--having breathed the enervating air of luxury the appointed -time,--I think I should gasp again for a strong, crisp breath of that -_New_ World, which is my grand birthright. You may scare up hideous -abuses of to-day, and point to convulsions of all sorts that are -seemingly upheaving us, root and branch. I care not. The greatest of -all crimes, in my eyes, is stagnation. We are _moving_, thank God! -There may be rough roads, and ruts, and stones, and rocks in the way, -and some of us may be crushed, and maimed, and jolted off, and -scarcely know our latitude and longitude for the fogs, and false -guides, and dark clouds, and fierce storms of debate. But still we -_move_! We are thinking of something beside a new way of fricasseeing -frogs, or "rectifying frontiers." We are neither children or slaves. -More! we have a _future_ before us--grander to those who will see it -than has any nation on the face of the earth. For one, I glory in it -all. And when I see an American, male or female, returning to their -native land, sighing for the nice little dishes one gets in Paris, -dilating on its superior costuming, prating forever of "The -Tuileries," and such like, and finding America "so in the rough," I -want to place my arms a-kimbo, my nose within an inch of his, and my -eyes focussed--anywhere--so that it will make him feel uncomfortable, -and address him thus: My beloved Idiot--Did you, while abroad, ever -compare the condition of the "common people," if I may be allowed to -allude in your presence to so vulgar and disgusting a theme--did you -ever compare the condition of the common people there with those of -the same class in your own country? Did you see, in Italy, or France, -or England, any such homes for the working-classes as are to be seen, -for instance, in New England? Those thrifty kitchens, where neatness -proclaims itself from the symmetrical wood-pile in the "shed" to the -last shining pewter-plate and spoon on the well-polished dresser? -Where even the old dog wipes his paws on the mat before stepping on -the snowy floor; where every child can read and write, and "do chores" -instead of begging its bread one half the day and lying in the sun the -rest. Where the women churn, and bake, and brew, and sew, and have -babies, and read books, aye, and _write_ them too. My beloved Idiot, -did you ever think of all _this_? Did you ever think, also, of the -difference it would make in your views of "life _abroad_," if instead -of going there with a pocket full of money to _spend_, you went there -to _earn_ it? - -Aha! wouldn't your chances be splendid in _that_ case? - -But, Heaven bless us! what is the use of showing a mole the sun? I -wish it here distinctly understood that I pause at this period of my -discourse, that every discontented American, so unworthy of his -glorious birthright, may get his passport, pack his trunk, and go back -to his peppered frogs, and toasted horse-steak, and diseased geese -livers, and liveried flunkeys, and be ingloriously content, while he -makes room here for his betters. - - - - -_LIFE'S ILLUSIONS._ - - -Did you ever stop short in the midst of the grind, and toil, and whirl -of life, at the thought. After all, what will this never ceasing fret -of body and soul amount to? Did you ever then begin to reckon upon -your fingers the unfulfilled promises of life within your knowledge, -as if you had but just heard of them? First, there is your -acquaintance, Mr. ----, who, since he came to years of maturity, has -had but this one object: to secure a pecuniary independence for -himself and his children. At fifty he has achieved it; and now he has -nothing to do but to enjoy himself. But _how_? That is the question -which racks his brain day and night. He has his library, to be sure; -that was part of the furnishing of his house; but, alas! he has no -taste for reading. He has fine pictures upon his walls; but he has no -eye for their beauty. He has daughters; but they are devoured with the -love of finery and fashion. He has sons; but they are emulating each -other in spending money, criminally and foolishly; and now he stands -aghast at the goal, to reach which he has sacrificed the better part -of himself and them; his sun is setting, and he has only the ashes of -the Dead Sea Apple of Victory between his fingers. - -Then there is Mrs. ----, who has staked all on her beautiful young -daughter. She was educated at home, for fear of the contamination of -associates; she was never from under the watchful eye of her parents, -lest her manners should receive a flaw. She was drilled to speak, -step, look, smile, eat, and drink, according to prescribed rules. She -must perfect herself in music, in the languages, in drawing. Her eyes, -hands, teeth, nails, must undergo a careful supervision each day, lest -any attraction should be prematurely shorn of its glory. At last she -dawns into beautiful womanhood. The evening is fixed for her -triumphant entrance into society. Dress-makers, hair-dressers, -jewellers, and florists are called into requisition. The important -toilette is finished; when suddenly the house is thrown into -consternation by her violent indisposition; and before morning the -young girl sleeps in her shroud. - -The anguished woman groans out, "Ye have taken away my idol, and what -have I left?" and she feels that life for her has nothing left but a -dreary waiting for its close. - -Then there are the great army of parents, whose heart-strings are -wrung with pity at the little eyes which may never see, the little -ears which may never hear, the little feet which may never skip or -run, and the mute tongues which may never syllable the sweet words, -"Father!" "Mother!" Then there are sons whose god is the wine-cup; -and living daughters whose own mothers had rather look upon their dead -faces. These heart-wrenchings and disappointments, are they not -legion? And yet, like children, whose toys, one after another, are -broken, or taken from them, we still reach out our hands for the -gilded bubble of hope, all the same as if it had never burst between -our fingers. When our dearly-loved children are taken from us, our -torn heart-strings hasten to twine about _their_ children; forgetting -the _little_ feet that have also trod "the dark valley." Surely, by -this love-yearning, which may never die in us, shall we find in -another world than this, its uninterrupted and perfect fruition. - - - - -_JACK SIMPKINS._ - - -It is a miserable thing to be born a philanthropist. Jack Simpkins can -tell you that. He thinks that one ought not to be merry, while the -world is so much out of joint. When his sister Betty tells him that -cheerfulness conduces to longevity, and that it is useless to make -one's self miserable about inevitables, Jack lifts his eyebrows and -accuses her of triviality and want of feeling. Not long since this -pair went into a place which shall be nameless, for some refreshment, -after an evening's public entertainment. While they were waiting to be -served, Jack's eye fell on the clerk at the desk, who, pen behind his -ear, was taking money and making change. "Betty," said Jack, "look at -that poor devil; week in and week out, there he stands, seeing other -people eat and counting money. Now, I'll be sworn he has never a -holiday, and not even Sunday. Do you suppose he has, Betty?"--"I am -sure I don't know," Betty replied, looking over a tempting bill of -fare, with the accompaniment of an extended forefinger; "he is a -_man_, isn't he? and that implies every kind of liberty. Were he a -woman, and restricted to the choice of one or two occupations, and -not half paid at that, I might possibly make myself unhappy about it; -as it is, let us have some oysters, and be jolly."--"But," persisted -Jack, "just think of his confined position, and--"--"But I don't -_want_ to think about it," said Betty; "this is a free country; and if -he don't like his place, can't he leave it? Come, Jack, eat your -oysters." To do Jack justice, he _did_ eat with a will; for such a -wide-spread benevolence as his is never supported on an empty stomach. - -The oysters eaten, Betty congratulated herself that Jack felt more -cheerful. Not a bit of it. While she stood, like a hen on one leg, -waiting for him to "settle" at the clerk's desk, he remarked to the -latter, in a melancholy, commiserating tone, "Your situation here must -be a very tiresome and confining one; don't you find it so?"--"Not at -all," replied the clerk, blandly; "quite the contrary."--"Do you ever -have a holiday; do you have Sundays?" asked Jack.--"Always when I -wish," replied the clerk; "but I don't care to be away much. I see the -best people in the city here, and I have a great deal of good -conversation." Betty smiled inwardly. It was not in human -nature--certainly not in female human nature--to refrain from crowing -a little over what she considered Jack's Quixotic philanthropy; and -when she laughed at his waste of pity, in this case, that infatuated -man replied, "Is it possible you can make merry over it, Betty? Why, -to _my_ mind, his not '_caring_ for holidays' was the most melancholy -feature of the whole thing; as showing how perfectly benumbed he must -be, by such heartless exaction on the part of his employer."--"But you -don't know anything about his employer," said Betty; "and it is -evident that he _could_ go out, any day he wished." Jack shrugged his -shoulders, and replied, "Ah, yes--I know what that '_could_' means, -when a man's nature is yielding; ah--yes," and he gave another deep -sigh. "Well," said Betty, getting a little irritated, "_I_ don't know -what _you_ may think, but if my fellow-creatures are perfectly -satisfied with their lot in life, I for one am not going to try to -make them miserable about it." Whereupon Jack preached her a long -lecture on the sin of selfishness, which quite stopped the process of -oyster digestion, and sent her to bed to enjoy the horrors of a -well-earned nightmare. - -Once, when Betty and Jack were travelling, they stopped at a fine -hotel. Everything was as perfect as skill and system could make it. -Jack paid the bill, and Betty launched out in praise of the -establishment. "Yes," said Jack, his face lengthening; "but I am -afraid that landlord feeds his guests much better than he can afford. -I don't think he charged as much as he ought in that bill of ours. I -really feel as if he had cheated himself." Now, Betty's experience in -this regard was entirely antagonistic to Jack's, so she replied, with -an ironical and not very amiable expression, "that if the gift of a -ten-dollar bill to the landlord would lighten her brother's -conscience, she would be willing to engage that the former would by -no means take offence at it." - -Betty says that selfishness is not _her_ besetting sin any more than -it is Jack's; and, if you doubt it, you can ask him to transfer his -glass of ale to you when he cannot get another, or you can read his -daily paper before he does in the morning, and see what will come of -it. She thinks it is not so much philanthropy in Jack, as that the -off-side of a question has such an unconquerable attraction for him; -in other words, that argument is his very breath; and, therefore, -without vexing her spirit any more because he never will agree with -her, she has instead made up her mind, that what side soever of a -question a person takes when conversing with Jack, it is morally -certain that no power in this world or the other will ever prevent -_him_ from going to the opposite. - - - - -"_BIDING THE LORD'S TIME._" - - -If there is one piece of advice more bandied about by irresolution, -imbecility, and moral cowardice than this, I should be glad to know -it. As _I_ take it, the Lord's time is the first chance you get. At -any rate, those who act on this principle have, as a general thing, -done the Lord more service than they who have folded their hands and -sat down upon the stool of conservatism to "bide His time," as they -call it. All the great reformers who have blessed mankind have had -pioneers, who looked upon "the Lord" as a helper, not a hindrance. The -stumbling-blocks which for centuries had impeded progress they -vigorously set about clearing away, without stopping to cross -themselves for doing that which indolent or timid bystanders excused -themselves from, as an irreverence. - -This stealing of heaven's livery to serve the devil in, is of all -thefts the most disgusting. This "fearing to offend a weaker brother" -is a plea which self-interest should know by this time is getting to -be transparent. If the weaker brother can't stand on his own -vacillating legs, the rest of the world can't afford to spend their -whole existence in propping him. Let him lie down till he can; or -till the Juggernaut wheels of progress roll sufficiently near to -_force_ him to spring to his feet. I don't believe in weak brothers. -They had better get out of the ranks and join the sisters. It may be -the choice between the frying-pan and the fire; for, after all, the -silliest woman who ever cried for a ribbon knows enough to dislike the -male creature who is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. But the most -trying time, when the platitude we are considering is thrust into the -face by moral parrots, is when they would not lift a finger to ease -the burden of a fellow-creature who is staggering and fainting before -their very eyes; or when some heart-wrench is being agonized through, -and your stoical consoler, who is himself impervious to every -suffering save that which is purely physical, iterates in your -sensitive ear, a string of such time-worn phrases, because he lacks -heart to say, Poor soul--no wonder you writhe; how I wish I could -comfort you! "_The Lord_"--and I say it not irreverently--is the first -compassionate human arm which is thrown round the quivering sufferer -when he needs it most. "_The Lord_" is the first outstretched human -hand which grasps the moral suicide as the last strand of hope is -parting. "_The Lord_" is the pitying human heart which draws to itself -the poor outcast, and without unrolling his transgressions to the face -of the broad day, stands firmly by his side, till he has won the -self-respect to stand alone. - -"Talk _out_!" exclaimed a little puzzled child to a foolish adult who -was speaking to it in a way which it could not possibly comprehend. -Talk _out_! say I, and call things by their right names. Now "_the -Lord_," to my way of thinking, don't murder little babies. If a -careless mother locks one up, with a cotton pinafore and a blazing -fire, and goes away, I should not say over its coffin that it died by -a visitation of Divine Providence. Nor when a drunken husband sends a -wooden chair, and a tea-kettle, and a small table through his wife's -skull, should I say that "the Lord" had seen fit in his inscrutable -will to remove Mrs. Smith from this sublunary sphere. Still--I may be -hypercritical--and after all, of course, I defer to your better -theological judgment--but I will say _this_ much, that _my_ "Lord" -don't do one half the things He is charged with, every day in the -year. - - - - -_ONE SORT OF FOOL._ - - -Now I like a fool--a genuine fool, who is obliviously unconscious of -the fact! Life is too dull at best; a fool has his mission, and -where's the harm of laughing, invulnerable as he is in his panoply of -self-conceit? The fool I am thinking of this moment, however, is of -the feminine gender--one who loomed upon my astounded vision in the -cabin of a ferry-boat, gorgeous as a shivered rainbow, or a bed of -variegated tulips, or a garden of staring sunflowers, which challenge -notice, flauntingly forbidding quiet passers-by to go abstractedly on -the winding way of their various duties and avocations. Thus -challenged, I of course surveyed my challenger. Heavens! what an array -of millinery and mantua-making was spread over that human lay-figure. -What a vapid, inane face that gay bonnet framed; what big feet those -cream-colored gaiters betrayed! What a sweep of flounce, and ruffle, -and ribbon and lace. What an all-over consciousness of "go-to-meetin'" -fixins, in every lineament and limb! What a _haven't I done it now?_ -in every defying glance? It was astounding. I was mentally knocked -over and stultified. And as if this were not enough, the woman -actually had the sacrilegious presumption to perpetuate herself in a -child which she led by the hand, a little four-year-older, bedizened -in orange and black, and green and blue, and pink and purple, -effectually stifling all the graces of childhood, if such a mother had -bequeathed any. A little tottling bunch of brilliant dry-goods, -happily putting an end to its existence, however, with double handfuls -of sugar-candy, which the mamma was supplying without stint or limit. -Disgusted steady-going business-men gazed and sighed like a pair of -bellows, as they inwardly said to themselves, in the language of that -eminent philosopher, Pop Weasel, "That's the way the money goes." -Young men tittered, and old matrons wondered how her kitchen closets -and cupboards, her pickle and preserve jars, looked at home. Meanwhile -the child, unobserved, strayed from the maternal side to take a survey -of the cabin, looking curiously round, much as you have seen an organ -grinder's monkey. "George Washington!" We all started patriotically at -the sound of this honored name, shouted from lungs that would not have -disgraced an omnibus-driver; only to collapse again, smothering with -laughter, as George Washington's mamma seized him by the belt, -splitting her pea-green glove in the operation, and deposited him -right end up with care upon the seat by her side, well pleased with -her maternal prowess, and putting only a favorable construction upon -the grinning faces around her. - -There's a great deal of human nature in ferryboats; but be advised by -me, and don't, if you can help it, get into one early, when the -inveterate expectorators are abroad, and before the ladies, "God bless -'em!" (as the men say when they shut them out after dinner), have done -us the favor to clean the cabin floors with their sweeping silks and -brocades. Don't get into one early in the morning, when fingers are -performing the office of combs, and quill toothpicks are rife. One is -apt to be dainty at the belt at sunrise. - - * * * * * - -I suppose you have met some smooth-faced, plausible wretches, bowing -and smirking you into the hottest purgatory. Now an honest -enemy I know how to meet; but your malicious, mealy-mouthed, -Watts'-Psalms-and-Hymns wretch, who takes your hand with his velvety -palm only to tell you that your pulse is wrong, and that your father -died at your age--I wonder if there _is_ salvation for such? - - - - -_THE FIRST BABY._ - - -Heaven help that poor little victim of experiments, the first baby in -a family. Upon whom every new and old nostrum is tried; who is -overloaded with fine clothes, and feeding; who is constantly kept in a -state of excitement by _cluck_ings, and _chuck_ings, and tossings, and -ticklings, till he frets from sheer nervousness; and then--is -blanketed, and physicked, and steamed, till he is as limp as a thread -paper. Who is kept in a gaspingly close apartment six weeks, at the -instigation of one grandmother, and driven out-doors, without regard -to wind or weather, the next six, at the recommendation of the other. -Who is so overburdened with toys, that he would prefer at any time a -chance stick or twig of his own picking from the carpet or sidewalk, -and who takes to fisticuffs from sheer weariness of being fondled. - -What a moral millennium to such is the advent of a second, third, and -fourth baby. When young master may sneeze, and the whole neighborhood -not be called to witness the phenomenon. When, if he fall, he may -sprawl there at least two whole minutes without a spoiling condolence, -and make the wholesome discovery that he can pick himself up whenever -he gets ready. When the playthings, over which he has been sole -monarch, are ruthlessly snatched by the new baby's fingers, and he is -taught, what he would never else have learned,--that this world was -not made for _one_. When, fifty times a day, he must wait his turn to -be served, instead of bringing all the household operations to a -standstill, till his real or imaginary wants are satisfied. When an -over busy mother at last clips the boy's long curls, which, pretty as -they were, should have been laid on the altar of common-sense long -ago. No longer do his little playmates call the tears to his eyes, by -shouting after him "_girl-boy_." _Now_ he is one of "the fellows." -There is no danger now of his being called into the parlor to be shown -off to mamma's visitors, and flattered into precocious impertinence, -for there is no knowing what rents are in elbows and knees, or how -many coats of dirt are on his face. But meanwhile, thank heaven, he is -not being spoiled, and the important process of self-education, i.e., -poking his nose into everything, that he may find out the whys and -wherefores, is going on. This blessed let-alone system, which, with -proper limitations, is so necessary to a child at an age when its -whole business should be to sleep, eat, and grow well, and which every -successive birth in the family helps him to enjoy unmolested. - -How surprising is the discovery to papa and mamma, and the whole troop -of adulators, that the second, third and fourth baby, says, "pa-pa," -"mamma," as well, and as early as that wonderful of a _first_! - -How levelling and disgusting the knowledge that everybody's baby in -the United States, without distinction of brown-stone-front houses, -has done just that! And what fond idiots they must have appeared to -lookers on, who had grown old rearing families. With what wonderment -mamma now handles the first baby's robes, where she very nearly -stitched in her life, in the anxiety to have all the absurd frills and -embroidery that a tyrannical precedent has enumerated in such cases. -_And now look at those of Johnny_--the last! Judging by his robes, he -might have been _anybody's_ baby! Well, well, his eyes are as bright, -and his limbs as dimpled, and his cheeks as rosy, as if his clothes -were _not_ sensible and plain. In short, what a thing is experience. -"Let us be careful, dear," says mamma, sagely, "to teach _our_ girls -to do better than _we_ have." As if every young couple must not go -through all these mistakes for themselves, and ten to one kill one -baby, before they learn how to take care of the rest. - -There never was a greater mistake made than when childhood is called -the happiest portion of life. I have seen a little child's breast -swell with an anguish as great as would ever agitate it though it -should live to four-score. Call it "a trifle" if you will, that a -playmate jeered before a laughing crowd of boy judges; no verdict of -after-life would be harder to bear; and when, sure of sympathy, he -tells the story to some one whom he fancies will sympathize, and that -man or woman or child listens with indifference, or pooh-poohs it -away--do you suppose that child will ever drink a bitterer drop? I -tell you _nay_, and if the rough grinding heel of the busy, insatiate -world, were not on us all the time, we should know and feel it. Nor is -the suffering _momentary_, as many suppose. How can it be, when some -such juvenile experience often colors a whole life? I say _children -suffer immensely more than is believed_. Take a child's first day at -school; thrust into a crowd of uproarious mischievous little savages, -shrinking, cowering, trembling away from their rude contact, with -heaving chest, and tear-laden eyes, choking down the misery made so -intolerable by suppression, do you tell me that is "a trifle"? Take -the child who sits intensely listening to some story related between -grown-up people, when suddenly his presence is recollected and the -peremptory summons "to bed," is promulgated without a thought of the -_wise clemency_ of a reprieved ten minutes. I well remember in my days -of pinafore and pantalettedom, an old maid who used to say "_that_ -child," in a tone that made all my curls stand on end. For years I -agitated my mind with the question whether old maids went to heaven; -because, strong as were my predilections for that blissful state, I -was in no wise content to share them with _her_. Nor, shall I soon -forget the _transition age_, when too tall for short dresses and too -short for tall ones; called "nothing but a child," when I was anxious -to do the stately young lady; and begged to recollect that "I was no -longer a child," when a fit of obstreperous romping overtook me with a -vigor I could not resist; called a goose for blushing if a man spoke -to me, and "did I think he could notice such a child as me?" and -begged to remember "my manners" when I bounced off next time without -noticing the young man. Driven to the verge of desperation by my -inability to define my place in the world, and disgusted enough with -this terrestrial ball to kick it as I would any other. A few more -inches to my stature, however, settled all that. _Then was my time!_ - -While I am on this subject, I would like to ask, why should not a -child's fancy in the way of food--I refer to their intense dislike of -certain things--be regarded, as much as the repugnance of an adult. I -consider it a great piece of cruelty to force a child to eat things -that are repulsive to it, because somebody once wrote a wise saw to -the effect, "that children should eat whatever is set before them." I -have often seen the poor little victims shudder and choke at sight of -a bit of fat meat, or a little scum of cream on boiled milk; toothsome -enough to those who like them, but in _their_ case a purgatorial -infliction. Whenever there is this decided antipathy, nature should be -respected, _even in the person of the smallest child_; and he who -would act otherwise is himself _smaller_ than the child over whom he -would so unjustifiably tyrannize. - -There are people who, having no children of their own, resolve to -adopt one. This is often well, and often ill, too. Ill--when the -self-constituted parent only wants a child as he would a pet dog, and -puts it through no higher course of training; when he feeds it from -his own plate with choice bits, till it becomes too dainty for the -chance wayside bone, and then, getting weary of the pastime, opens the -door and thrusts it out to forage again in gutters and ash-heaps and -street corners. Such things have been. Let none assume this sacred -relation _who are not prepared for its sacrifices as well as its -pleasures_--who have not counted in days of sickness, and hours of -childish waywardness, and possible hereditary moral weeds to be rooted -out; for these little stray waifs of humanity suffer much from these -causes, physically and morally. Let no one, we say, open wide his arms -and doors to it, unless God's patience be in his soul, God's -all-suffering, all-forgiving love, in his heart, to weave a chord from -that child's heart to his own, over which no vibration shall pass -unheeded, no more than if it were bone of his bone and flesh of his -flesh. - - * * * * * - -The phrase, "Vulgar Saints," occurs in a late work of great repute, in -which the author's aristocratic tendencies stick out through some of -the otherwise finest passages ever penned. "Vulgar Saints!" The term -itself is a contradiction: there never was, or will be, a vulgar -saint; true religion is sublimating, etherealizing. "Breeding" has -nothing to do with it; there are vulgar hypocrites, but never a vulgar -saint. We might carry you to old houses that never knew a carpet or -piano, and leading you up the rickety stairs, into a rough chamber, -show you the mother on her knees, pleading with an eloquence no -college could ever teach, for her absent sailor-boy; or show you the -wrinkled grandmother, who never saw a grammar, singing some old hymn -which brings the tears to your eyes, and all your long-forgotten -follies to daylight. _True_ religion banishes vulgarity. It is -calm-eyed, soft-voiced, all-pervading, like the warm sunshine. There -never was a "Vulgar Saint." We don't care what are his antecedents, or -where he lives, or what he eats, or what clothes he wears, or how -rough are his toil-worn hands, he has that in him which lifts him far -beyond turreted libraries, stained-glass windows, and softly carpeted -floors, and allies him with the angels; although through the broken -roof above his head, the stars may nightly look in upon his peaceful -slumbers. - - - THE END. - - - - -Transcriber's Note: - - -Archaic and inconsistent spelling and punctuation retained. - - - * * * * * - - NEW BOOKS - - BY - - FANNY FERN. - - - I.--FOLLY AS IT FLIES PRICE $1.50 - II.--GINGER-SNAPS $1.50 - - These volumes are all elegantly printed and bound in cloth: are - sold everywhere, and will be sent by mail free of postage, on - receipt of price, - - BY - - Carleton, Publisher, - New York. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ginger-Snaps, by Fanny Fern - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GINGER-SNAPS *** - -***** This file should be named 40504-8.txt or 40504-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/5/0/40504/ - -Produced by sp1nd, Matthew Wheaton and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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