by the ,canadian ,institute for         
,historical ,microreproductions         
7www4canadiana4org77          ,,bohemian
 ,,society4  ,,by  ,,lydia ,,leavitt4   
,,brockville3  ,,times ,,printing ,,and 
,,publishing ,,company4     ,,bohemian  
,,society4               ,she was not   
fair1      ,nor beautiful1--those words 
express her not1      ,but1 ,o1 her     
looks had something excellent           
,that wants a name4   ,in a country     
house near the city of ,b---- lived a   
lady of cultivated mind and manners1 a  
noble woman nobly planned4 ,well read   
and familiar with such writers as       
,tyndall1 ,huxley1 ,spencer and other   
scientists1 and being rather            
cosmopolitan in tastes1 liked to gather 
about her1 people who had--as she termed
 it--ideas4 ,at times there was a       
strange medley of artists1 authors1     
religious enthusiasts1 spiritualists1   
philanthropists and even philosophers4  
,on the evening of which ,i write there 
was the usual peculiar gathering1 and   

each one is expressing his or her views 
freely and unrestrainedly4         99   
99       99       99       99  ,the     
visionary and dreamer said3 ,let me     
describe a modern ,utopia of which ,i   
have often dreamed and thought4  ,in a  
fertile valley1 surrounded on all sides 
by high mountains1 lived a community or 
body of people who had never been       
outside the valley4 ,to them the        
mountains proved an impassible barrier  
and they had no wish or desire to       
penetrate beyond4 ,for generations they 
had lived in this peaceful retreat happy
 and content4 ,the ground yielded       
sufficient for their wants and needs4   
,no one in this little world was richer 
than his neighbor and if one of the     
community fell ill each contributed     
something from their own supply for his 
or her support4 ,they knew nothing about
 the value of money1 for here it was    
useless4 ,no one dreamed of possessing  
more than his neighbor1 but each and all
 must share alike4 ,time dealt kindly   

with these simple people1 for they dealt
 kindly with time1 and life flowed on   
smoothly and pleasantly4 ,men and women 
of seventy years were hale and hearty1  
for it is not so much the number of     
years we live that leave their traces1  
as the events which transpire in those  
years2 each event1 each sorrow1 each    
disappointment making an era and each   
one leaving a trace4 ,for the           
inhabitants of the valley there were few
 disappointments and fewer sorrows4 ,if 
the angel of death entered and took one 
of their number1 each and all took the  
sorrow home for it was looked upon as a 
personal calamity when any one of the   
little community was taken from them4   
,the sun seemed to shine brighter1 the  
water to be clearer and more limpid1 the
 foliage more brilliant in this little  
world than elsewhere4 ,perhaps because  
the eyes of the people were undimmed by 
sorrow1 perhaps because their souls were
 unclouded by sin1 or perchance they    
were in complete harmony with nature and

 were able to see all her beauty1 each  
charm enhanced by something within      
themselves4  ,nowhere else did the earth
 yield such abundant harvest4 ,the wheat
 bent its yellow head from over weight4 
,the trees were laden with fruit and    
here again nature seemed to be in       
sympathy with her children4 ,no sordid  
motives1 no love of gain1 no thought of 
barter and sale entered their minds     
while sowing their fields or reaping    
their grain1 but every one labored that 
each and all might be benefitted4 ,the  
men were strong and self-reliant1 the   
women contented and happy1 the children 
rosy and healthy4  ,every ,sabbath      
morning the old church bell rang a sweet
 summons to meet together to worship    
,god4 ,one church was sufficient for    
all4 ,they knew nothing about heresies  
and schisms but assembled together to   
hear a simple story simply told4 ,the   
venerable clergyman1 with white hair and
 beard1 in the dimly lighted church     
resembled the pictures of the martyrs1  

his face telling the story of a simple1 
true1 pure life4 ,his sermons were      
eloquent from their very simplicity2 no 
need there of learned dissertations1 for
 the people would not have comprehended 
had he been able to give them1 and had  
they been able to understand1 their     
pastor was unable to teach4 ,it was a   
pleasant sight1 the old men1 young      
maidens1 happy matrons and rosy children
 assembled together in their quaint old 
fashioned dress1 simple in the extreme1 
listening to the teaching of their      
minister4  ,their amusement and         
pleasures were simple with no unnatural 
craving after excitement4 ,the ever     
changing sky and clouds2 the mists on   
the mountain top2 the purple hills and  
yellow waving grain2 the running brook2 
all these were sources of pleasure and  
amusement4 ,to a few1 the world out side
 the valley1 the numerous conjectures as
 to the people who inhabited it1 gave   
food for thought4  ,at eventide the sun 
is setting1 throwing a golden glow over 

the valley1 from a cottage near is heard
 the cradle song of some happy mother   
lulling her child to sleep2 in the      
distance can be heard the tinkling cow  
bell1 and on the purple hill side the   
sheep have lain down to rest4 ,the sun  
has gone down a little lower and the    
shadows of the mountains have lengthened
 until they stretch almost across the   
valley2 the sounds of life have almost  
ceased2 the child is asleep and the     
lullaby ended2 the tinkling of the bells
 is scarcely heard2 the birds have gone 
to their nests1 and up from the valley  
has risen a white mist that has hidden  
and completely covered the last sign of 
life4 ,surely a beautiful covering for  
such a valley1 a fitting mantle for so  
pure a people4         99       99      
99       99       99  ,the morning broke
 dull and cloudy over the last happy day
 of the peaceful valley4  ,a stranger   
from the outer world1 about which they  
had speculated so much1 appeared in     
their midst4 ,seeking a number of young 

men he soon engaged them in earnest     
conversation1 arousing their curiosity  
by telling them of the strange and      
wonderful things which transpired in the
 world beyond the mountains2 telling    
them of the wonderful discoveries of    
science2 the fame of many brilliant men 
and women1 telling them of the          
advantages of communication with the    
outer world1 of the uselessness and     
folly of spending their lives in so     
simple a manner1 ridiculing their       
simplicity1 telling them that the mere  
youths of his country could teach the   
venerable grandsires of the valley      
things of which they had never dreamed1 
telling of the advantages of extended   
thought and education4 ,after many days 
spent in persuasion1 he gained the      
consent of some to erect a large college
 which was immediately begun4 ,some of  
the older ones shook their heads and    
asked each other the question1 ,were we 
not happy8 ,what more can be required8  
,thus the first seeds of discord were   

sown where all had been harmony4        
,laborers came from afar to aid in the  
erection of the college1 and day by day 
the work progressed and children stood  
and gazed in open-eyed wonder at the    
place where they were to gain a world of
 information4 ,the work was finished2   
teachers came from foreign lands1       
masters of languages1 teachers of       
science1 and metaphysicians to puzzle   
the heads of the old and weary the brain
 of the young4 ,teachers of music with  
massive organs for the music rooms of   
the college arrived1 teachers of piano  
and harp1 all of which were a revelation
 to these simple people1 who could not  
conceive of any sweeter music than the  
song of the birds1 their mothers evening
 hymn or the soft sweet notes of the    
happy wife as she crooned her babe to   
sleep4 ,the children were sent to the   
college and and in a short time the     
strife began1 each one trying to excel  
the other4 ,no more time to study the   
effect of the misty mountain tops1 no   

more time to listen to the songs of the 
birds1 for here within these four walls 
were to be found and learned stranger   
things than they had ever thought of4   
,after a few years the youths who went  
to the old church could scarcely be     
recognized4 ,the same sweet welcome was 
given by the old church bell but how    
changed were the people who assembled   
together6 ,where all had been love and  
faith before1 there was now doubt and   
discord4 ,for had they not dabbled in   
science8 ,some of the more learned ones 
even whispered that the old clergyman   
should be replaced by a younger man1 one
 more advanced in culture and training4 
,true his head was bent and very grey1  
his hands shook and voice trembled and  
at times it was almost difficult to     
understand him1 his prayer was so weak  
and broken4 ,but at the bed-side of the 
sick he was always welcome1 the         
infirmities of age were forgotten there4
 ,for over half a century he had held   
himself in readiness to attend the      

bedside of all who might call upon him  
to speak cheering1 hopeful words to the 
dying4 ,but now our little community has
 become educated and they are able to   
criticise4 ,as we look around the church
 we are lost in wonder as to what has   
come to the people4 ,the older ones are 
sadder and a spirit of unrest seems to  
have seized upon the middle aged1 while 
the very children have lost something of
 their charm4  ,in a short time         
factories and manufactories are running2
 clouds of smoke ascend from the valley 
to the mountain top which had never been
 touched by anything less pure than the 
rain from the cloud or the mists from   
the valley below4 ,nature itself was    
making a silent protest against the     
invasion of her solitude4 ,the trees    
which had borne abundant fruit before   
were barren now4  ,the older people     
shook their heads and attributed the    
cause to the doubts and unbelief which  
had arisen in their lovely valley4 ,the 
more learned ones assigned the smoke    

from the factories to be the cause4     
,death was of more frequent occurrence  
to the inhabitants than formerly4 ,this 
dread visitor came at rare intervals and
 to the very aged before the advent of  
education and commerce4 ,but now the    
little children and youths were         
frequently stricken with strange        
diseases1 which baffled all skill4  ,and
 after a time enterprise steps in and a 
railroad is built1 and with it every    
vestige of the happy valley disappears4 
,the old church is torn down1 and a new 
one of grand proportions and elaborate  
workmanship is built on the old spot4   
,the venerable head of the clergyman has
 lain low for many a year1 and in his   
place stands an eloquent divine1 with   
all the modern ideas1 who1 in trying to 
prove the doctrines of his church to be 
the true faith1 leaves the doctrine of  
,christianity out--and that too has     
gone2 buried beneath the ruins of the   
old church and in the grave of the old  
clergyman4  ,now let a person pass      

through the valley and they will look in
 vain for a vestige of the once         
beautiful spot4 ,there is a-hurrying to 
and fro4 ,on the faces of the young can 
be seen lines of care and thought4 ,the 
innocent faces and sweet manner of the  
young girls have given place to a look  
of consciousness4 ,the pretty1 quaint   
dresses have gone and fashion has sway4 
,the quiet1 dreamy look and manner of   
the young men has given place to a      
worldly air4 ,the mists which arise from
 the valley are mixed with the foul     
smoke of the factories and engines1 and 
where all was peace and quietness2 chaos
 reigns supreme4         99       99    
99       99       99  ,an enthusiast is 
saying3  ,philanthropists in many ages  
and many lands have put forth great and 
noble efforts for the benefit of mankind
 and as we advance in knowledge and     
civilization the ways and means chosen  
have undergone many modifications4 ,it  
has dawned upon philanthropists that    
they must have some knowledge of the    

religion of humanity before the change  
can be very marked1 in the lives of     
those they would assist4 ,the religion  
of humanity is the noblest1 the grandest
 of all religions4 ,it is the one which 
our ,saviour taught while on earth2 the 
one which he taught his disciples to    
follow2 one which requires no trained   
intellect or cultivated mind1 but simply
 an understanding of the human heart1   
the human mind1 and human passions4 ,in 
it there are no creeds to learn1 no     
dogmas to understand1 but the simple    
lesson of ,do unto others as you would  
they should do unto you1 which is the   
foundation of genuine religion4         
,phariseeism is the curse of modern     
times1 ,stand aside for ,i am holier    
than thou1 is the spirit too often shown
 among--so called--,christians4 ,the    
teaching of our ,saviour2 his life and  
good words mean little with many        
persons4 ,the story of ,mary ,magdalen  
is simply a story1 and conveys nothing  
to their minds4 ,a supplication from    

such a one as she would meet with no    
return4 ,the drawing of the skirts aside
 for fear of contamination1 the cold    
looks and averted gaze1 prove that at   
least1 one noble lesson has been        
disregarded4  ,in the ,german town of   
,andernach there is a huge wooden image 
of the ,saviour on the cross4 ,and this 
is the legend which all the simple      
peasants believe4  ,one stormy night a  
poor1 sinful creature was wandering     
about the streets with her babe in her  
arms1 and she was hungry and cold1      
homeless and friendless1 and no one in  
,andernach would take her in4 ,and when 
she came to the crucifix1 she sat down  
on a stone at the foot of the cross and 
began to pray1 and prayed till she fell 
asleep with her poor little babe on her 
bosom4 ,but she did not sleep long1 for 
a bright light shone full in her face1  
and when she opened her eyes she saw a  
pale man standing before her4 ,he was   
almost naked1 and there was blood upon  
his hands and body2 and great tears     

stood in his beautiful eyes and his face
 was like the face of the ,saviour on   
the cross4 ,not a word did he speak1 but
 he looked at the woman compassionately1
 and gave her a loaf of bread1 and took 
the babe in his arms and kissed it4  ,no
 need to talk of spiritual things to    
people who are suffering from hunger and
 cold4 ,if the moral nature of the poor 
is to be reformed1 their surroundings   
must be improved4 ,the mind becomes that
 which it contemplates4 ,it would be    
impossible for any one surrounded by    
crime and poverty to understand or be   
made to comprehend the loving kindness  
of a ,god who placed them in such a     
condition and amidst such surroundings4 
,no one1 unless they were fanatics1     
would think of distributing religious   
tracts to the poor half starved ignorant
 portion of a large city4 ,the human    
portion of their natures must be        
benefitted before any great results in  
moral improvements can be attained4     
,commence at the beginning4 ,teach them 

the laws of hygiene3 teach them their   
duty1 not from any reward which they may
 expect in the next world1 but for the  
sake of right and the happiness it will 
afford them in this world4  ,i am often 
struck with the idea that the religion  
which is taught from our pulpits        
frequently helps to nourish all that is 
most selfish in our natures4 ,we are    
taught that for every kind act we       
perform1 we may expect a reward         
hereafter4 ,in worldly matters we would 
have a poor opinion of a friend--or one 
calling herself such--who for every     
small act of kindness shown us1 was     
constantly thinking of the benefit she  
was to derive from it4 ,why will the    
reasoning not apply to spiritual        
matters8 ,such teaching develops all    
that is lowest in human nature4 ,and    
again we are told that by doing certain 
things which are sinful in the sight of 
,god1 we may expect punishment          
hereafter2 consequently many people are 
deterred from wrong doing1 simply from  

fear2 not because of any inner          
consciousness of wrong doing1 but for   
fear of the consequences of their sin4  
,would it not be well to teach and train
 the human mind to the belief that any  
act committed which is injurious to     
ourselves or our fellow creatures is    
wrong1 because the act in itself is     
wrong and not because we are to be      
punished in the future4  ,imagine a     
prisoner1 a dangerous character1 who    
conducts himself properly while under   
the eye of the keeper and in sight of   
the lash1 compelled by fear to conform  
to rules1 does the work appointed him1  
not from a consciousness of doing right1
 not because the doing right is a       
pleasure1 but through fear of the       
consequences if he disobeys4 ,he serves 
his time1 is discharged1 but what kind  
of a citizen does he become8 ,if fear   
only restrains him from wrong-doing what
 object will he have in doing right8    
,leave out the doctrine of reward and   
punishment1 teach and train the mind to 

something higher and holier than mere   
personal gratification4 ,the religion of
 humanity is a grand1 a noble belief4   
,to remember that each and every one has
 some claim to consideration1 that the  
way to restrain from wrong-doing is     
through the human heart4 ,a warm hand   
clasp and a sympathetic tear will do    
more to strengthen ones belief in heaven
 than all the tracts which were ever    
written4 ,can we believe in the goodness
 and loving kindness of ,god1 when we   
see nothing but coldness and selfishness
 in our fellow creatures4 ,ah believe   
me1 the chords of the human heart are   
very tender and if touched by a         
sympathetic hand will produce sweet     
sounds but if touched by the unfriendly 
hand of coldness and indifference1 the  
sounds will be harsh and discordant4    
,there is no one so low1 so ignorant1 so
 fallen1 but has claims upon our        
sympathies4 ,the ,turks collect every   
scrap of paper that comes in their way1 
because the name of ,god may be written 

upon it4 ,deal tenderly with every      
fellow creature1 for all are made in the
 image of ,god4 ,a few kind words have  
saved many lives from shipwreck4        
,phariseeism says to itself after       
hearing of the sin of some poor mortal  
,i am holier than that person4 ,i have  
never sinned in that way1 forgetful of  
the fact that they have never been      
tempted in the same way4 ,the religion  
of humanity says here is a poor mortal  
who has been sorely tried and tempted1  
we will show him his error and help him 
to do right4 ,phariseeism sends to the  
boy who has been arrested for stealing a
 loaf of bread1 a tract with ,thou shall
 not steal in large letters4 ,the       
religion of humanity says1 the boy was  
hungry and we will feed him4            
,phariseeism says to the poor shivering 
outcast1 the ,lord chastiseth those whom
 he loveth4 ,the religion of humanity   
takes her in and clothes1 feeds and     
warms her4 ,to the poor woman who is    
struggling for daily bread1 each day    

sadder than the last1 ,phariseeism says1
 bear thy burdens meekly4 ,the religion 
of humanity says1 we will do something  
to lighten her sorrow4  ,phariseeism    
sees nothing to condemn in itself1      
forgetful that the sins they are        
committing may be greater in the sight  
of ,god than the sins which they are    
condemning in others4  ,i have often    
thought if a magician would wave his    
magic wand over a pool of water so that1
 not only the features but the mind1 the
 motives1 the passions were reflected1  
what consternation it would produce in  
the minds of the ,pharisee4  ,o be      
charitable even as ,christ was to the   
sins of humanity1 be sympathetic even as
 ,he was to the sufferings of mankind2  
be kind even as ,he was to the poor2 be 
merciful even as ,he was to erring      
women1 speak comforting words even as   
,he did to the weak hearted2 speak      
cheerful words even as ,he did to the   
weary and sad4       ,who ne'er his     
bread in sorrow ate        ,who ne'er   

the mournful midnight hours             
,weeping upon his bed has sate          
,he knows you not1 ye ,heavenly ,powers4
         99       99       99       99  
99         99       99       99       99
       99  ,again the voice of the      
dreamer is heard4 ,let us1 from a slight
 elevation1 watch the busy life of a    
large city4 ,at early morning can be    
heard the rattling of the carts and the 
merry whistle of the drivers--the       
red-faced market woman is arranging     
fruit temptingly in front of her stall2 
the shopman in a small street is        
lowering shutters from his windows2 the 
little old wizened woman has seated     
herself on the curb stone with a small  
supply of apples and candy2 the one     
armed beggar has taken his accustomed   
place2 the shop girls are hurrying to   
their places behind the counters1 the   
brawny workman with muscles of iron1    
strides along to his days labor1 and all
 the work-a-day world is alert4 ,a      
little later on the business portion of 

the city is abroad1 the banker is being 
driven to his counting house1 the       
wealthy shop keeper hurries to his place
 of business1 and farther on the little 
flower girl with fresh violets1 still   
wet with dew1 can be seen with her      
basket1 offering to the passers by the  
sweet contents4 ,now the great city is  
thoroughly awake4 ,the miser and the    
beggar jostle each other on the crowded 
pavement1 the little children are taken 
out for their morning airing by the     
white-capped nurse1 a black robed nun   
glides along on some errand of mercy1   
with a face like a medival saint1       
jostling her as he passes can be seen   
the excited face of the gambler who has 
staked his all and lost1 and again      
another flower-girl bearing her bright  
burden1 now seen and again lost sight   
of1 looks like a bright humming bird as 
she flits along1 moving hither and      
thither in this strange medley of human 
beings4 ,a group has gathered around    
some ,italian street musicians2 little  

ragged urchins are dancing in time to a 
merry waltz1 and now the tune changes   
from gay to grave4 ,watch the expression
 of the dark-eyed harpist while he      
plays1 surely his thoughts have flown to
 his sunny ,italy1 so sad1 so dreamy is 
his look4 ,even this picturesque looking
 street musician may have a romance and 
may be dreaming at this moment of some  
sweet voiced ,italian maiden4  ,later in
 the day all the fashionable world is   
astir4 ,elegant carriages with gaily    
dressed occupants are dashing along4    
,there is a carriage with the paint     
scarcely yet dry and seated within is a 
red-faced vulgar looking woman1 the     
carriage1 the horses1 the woman1 all    
painfully--new4 ,at the same time       
hurrying along in shabby dress and mean 
attire is a fragile delicate woman whose
 garb shows evidences of much mending   
and patient darning1 but the shabby     
dress cannot hide the fact that here is 
a lady1 as with easy grace she moves    
down the street4  ,the afternoon is     

somewhat advanced and the occasional    
glimpses which we get of the flower girl
 show that her basket has been          
replenished but she does not move quite 
so quickly as in the morning4 ,her limbs
 are getting weary1 and there is a      
pathetic little note in her voice now as
 she offers her flowers for sale4  ,but 
see6 on the bridge is the figure of a   
woman4 ,no need to hear her history1 the
 face tells its own story of sin and    
misery4 ,she is looking down at the     
river which flows sluggishly on2 down   
perhaps at her own reflection in the    
water1 down perhaps deeper still into   
her own soul4 ,the face is hardened and 
set and there is scarcely a trace of    
womanly likeness left4 ,a life of sin   
and shame has almost obliterated all    
that is good in her nature1 almost ,i   
say1 for no one1 no matter how low or   
degraded1 can be wholly bad4 ,but here  
it is difficult to discern one soft     
look1 as she leans wearily over the     
railing of the bridge--a silent1 sad1   

sin-stained creature4 ,soon there is a  
sound of wheels and gay laughter and a  
carriage rolls by1 and there can be no  
mistaking the nature and errand of the  
occupants4 ,a young girl1 with sweet1   
pure face1 all in white1 with white     
flowers in her hair and carrying a      
bouquet of white flowers in her hand1 is
 being driven towards the church4       
,passing the solitary woman on the      
bridge she picks a beautiful flower from
 the bouquet she is carrying and tosses 
it at her feet1 for she wishes to-day to
 make all whom she sees as happy as     
herself4 ,a little of the hard look     
leaves the woman's face as she stoops to
 pick the flower4 ,mechanically she     
follows the carriage1 with stealthy     
steps and bated breath she enters the   
church1 choosing a dark corner where she
 will not be observed1 she sits         
listening to the clergyman as he        
proceeds with the marriage rites and not
 until all is over and the lovely bride 
is passing down the aisle on the arm of 

her husband1 does she dare to raise her 
eyes1 and as she does so they meet the  
pure frank gaze of the lovely girl who  
smiles in her face as she recognizes the
 woman to whom she threw the flower4    
,the woman sits in her dark corner4 ,of 
what can she be thinking8 ,her head is  
bowed and on her face is a look of      
agony4 ,what a hell has arisen in her   
breast6 ,her thoughts have wandered to  
her country home which she has not seen 
for years4--,to the time when she was as
 pure as the young girl1 who just       
pronounced her marriage vows2 to the    
mother's blessing as she saw her young  
daughter depart for the great city2 to  
the early days when she first arrived   
and worked honestly for her bread2 to   
the pride she felt over the first money 
she sent home to her old mother4 ,her   
thoughts wandered back to the time when 
men and women turned to look at her     
fresh rosy face on the street1 wondering
 at her beauty which partook so largely 
of the wild rose and mountain daisy4    

,could this be the same woman1 with the 
hardened face and form covered with     
rags8 ,it seemed so long ago4 ,then came
 the thoughts of striving with          
temptation1 then the promises made and  
broken1 of ruin and shame1 then of the  
long illness1 of dreadful poverty1 and  
at last she sees herself as she is1 a   
ruined1 homeless1 sin-stained creature4 
,oh the misery1 the agony6 ,what hell   
can be greater than this6 ,while she is 
still sitting there the bell begins to  
toll1 and soon there is a procession    
moving slowly up the aisle and four     
young boys are carrying a little coffin4
 ,it too is covered with white flowers1 
placed there by loving hands4 ,in the   
coffin is a little waxen form almost    
covered with the same beautiful flowers4
  ,the clergyman who had read the       
marriage ceremony1 is now repeating the 
last sad rites for the dead4 ,again they
 take up their burden and move slowly   
down the aisle4 ,as the coffin passes   
the woman1 one of the white flowers     

drops almost at her feet4 ,she stoops   
reverently and picks it up2 almost      
hesitatingly as if afraid her touch will
 soil its purity1 and placing it        
tenderly by the side of the bridal      
flower she walks slowly from the church4
 ,watch her move along hurriedly1 till  
she comes to a narrow alley and stops in
 front of a wretched tenement house4    
,entering quickly she passes up the     
rickety stairs and goes into a room     
where there is a little child upon a    
wretched bed4 ,sickness and poverty have
 almost finished their work4 ,the child 
is sleeping and the woman steals softly 
to the bed side and places the white    
flowers on its breast ,even as she does 
so the little creature smiles in its    
sleep4 ,perhaps the happy smiling face  
of the lovely bride has visited it in   
its slumber1 or the spirit of the dead  
babe has come with the flowers1 to take 
the hand of the sick child and lead it  
across the river4         99       99   
99       99       99         99       99

       99       99       99  ,i hear the
 voice of the ,pessimist4  ,pessimism is
 increasing daily4 ,any person who takes
 time to think on the subject can not   
fail to see that human misery is        
increasing4 ,with all the boasted       
advantages of civilization1 it has      
failed to bring happiness into the lives
 of the people4 ,the more enlightened   
people become1 the more they will       
recognize the fact that knowledge does  
not bring happiness4 ,scientific        
discoveries do not tend to lighten the  
load of human misery4 ,since            
,man's disobedience1 and the fruit      
,of that forbidden tree whose mortal    
taste      ,brought death into the      
world--and all our woe4  sin has gone on
 increasing1 consequently there has been
 more unhappiness4 ,people are asking   
themselves daily1 is life worth living1 
and most persons answer in the negative4
 ,are there any who grasp the prize for 
which they have struggled8 ,if there are
 a few who succeed in reaching to the   

height to which they aspire1 they find  
happiness is just as much beyond their  
reach as when they first started in     
their career4 ,in the middle ages the   
magicians who created monsters were     
haunted by them forever after4 ,we are  
all haunted by dreams and shadows4 ,the 
dreams of happiness and the shadows of  
disappointments4 ,looking back upon our 
past and taking a retrospective glance  
at years gone by we find our lives have 
been made up not of great events--but of
 a succession of disappointments4 ,each 
one is haunted by a phantom or ideal    
which they are vainly striving to reach 
but seldom attain4 ,the garden of hope  
seems to bear well2 we put forth our    
hands to reach the fruit and we find we 
have only the ashes of ,dead ,hopes4    
,as ,shelly says3       ,first our      
pleasures1 die--and then      ,our      
hopes1 and then our fears--and when     
,these are dead1 the debt is due        
,dust claims dust--and we die too4  ,it 
is bitter mockery to say that the man   

who struggles for daily bread is happy4 
,he may do his work uncomplainingly1 but
 he cannot be happy4 ,he gets to be but 
little better that a machine and does   
his work mechanically1 perhaps never    
looking into his own heart1 to ask the  
question1 ,is this a happy life8 ,some  
writer has said that there are two      
classes of people1 those who are driven 
to death and those who are bored to     
death4 ,there can be no sympathy between
 the rich and poor4 ,there is an        
impassible gulf that can never be       
crossed4 ,the man who has never known   
the want of money cannot know the       
sorrows and struggles of the poor4 ,each
 must go his own way1 the poor man to   
his pallet of straw2 the rich man to his
 bed of down4  ,in the world of dreams  
all are equal4 ,it is an unreal world1  
true1 but to many it is the happiest4   
,in it there are no distinctions4 ,the  
woman who is old and wrinkled and gray1 
who has known nothing but hard work and 
sorrow in this world1 in the land of    

dreams finds pleasure she has never     
known4 ,in spirit1 she is in pleasant   
places1 carried back perhaps to scenes  
she loved in childhood1 to the old home2
 sees pleasant faces of the almost      
forgotten dead1 is carried above and    
beyond the world of reality into the dim
 shadowy land of dreams4 ,then comes the
 waking1 and with the waking the regret 
of what might have been4  ,in this land 
of dreams the rich may travel with the  
poor1 may revisit the same old scenes1  
see the same faces of the dead1 leave   
all that is earth earthy1 and the spirit
 or soul wander abroad1 over land and   
seas and in dreams kneel again at a     
mother's knee repeating the prayer she  
taught and which has long since been    
forgotten1 to awake with regret to the  
cares which riches bring4  ,there is one
 more journey which the rich and the    
poor take together and that is down and 
through the ,valley of the ,shadow of   
,death4  ,it is a curious study to watch
 the faces one meets in a large city or 

town4 ,every face has a history1 every  
life a story1 if we but take the trouble
 to read4 ,the face is but an index of  
the heart1 and even in the heart of the 
happiest the muffled drums are beating4 
,as ,longfellow so beautifully expresses
 it in ,hyperion and then mark6 how amid
 the chorus of a hundred voices and a   
hundred instruments--of flutes and      
drums1 and trumpets--this unreal shout  
and whirlwind of the vexed air1 you can 
so clearly distinguish the melancholy   
vibration of a single string touched by 
the finger--a mournful sobbing sound4   
,ah this is indeed human life6 where in 
the rushing noisy crowd1 and sounds of  
gladness1 and a thousand mingling       
emotions1 distinctly audible to the ear 
of thought1 are the pulsations of some  
melancholy string of the heart1 touched 
by an invisible hand4  ,an ,optimist1 a 
pleasant1 sweet faced woman1 with a     
voice like the chime of silver bells1 is
 saying3  ,it is only to morbid and     
diseased minds that existence looks     

colorless4 ,people who live too much    
within themselves1 whose imagination    
becomes disordered see only the dark    
side of life4 ,it was not intended that 
life should be all sunshine and no      
shadow4           ,for life is one1 and 
in its warp and woof1      ,there runs a
 thread of gold that glitters fair1     
,and sometimes in the pattern shows most
 sweet      ,where there are sombre     
colors4  ,dark clouds must appear in the
 life of each1 and one of the great     
lessons of life is to learn to bear     
disappointments philosophically1 not sit
 down with folded hands and watch the   
clouds approaching until our vision     
becomes obscured4 ,there is sunshine in 
the lives of each and every one if they 
will but see it1 and banish vain regrets
 and useless repinings4 ,inertia causes 
a vast deal of trouble4       ,lose this
 day loitering1 t'will be the same story
      ,to morrow1 and the rest more     
dilatory      ,the indecision brings its
 own delays4      ,are you in earnest8  

,seize this very minute6      ,what you 
can do or think you can1 begin it6      
,only engage1 and then the mind grows   
heated4      ,begin it1 and the work    
will be completed4  ,fortunately the day
 of fine ladyism has passed and there   
are noble women who are not afraid nor  
ashamed to take upon themselves the     
duties and responsibilities of life1    
women who do their work well and        
faithfully1 duties that perhaps in      
themselves are not noble1 but by the    
manner in which they are done the work  
in itself is elevated4 ,the common      
laborer who does his work well and to   
the best of his ability is more to be   
commended than the ,president who puts  
but half his energy in his duties4      
,what can be more pitiful than the      
apathy and utter uselessness of the     
would-be fine lady who is ennuied to the
 last degree2 one perhaps with good     
ability who is conscious of the fact    
that she is capable of something better1
 would like to turn her attention to    

something useful1 but is restrained from
 doing so by the fear of what society   
will say4 ,any society which is worth   
knowing will extend the right hand of   
fellowship to the self-reliant noble    
woman1 much more readily than to the    
useless nonentity4 ,life to be pleasant 
must have an aim1 an object1 and every  
one has been given some talent to make  
use of and for such he or she must      
answer at the last great day4  ,life can
 not but be pleasant to those who make  
nature a study4 ,there is a vast book   
open before us and every one who chooses
 can open a page4 ,the study will never 
grow monotonous1 for nature is          
constantly changing and with lavish hand
 showers upon her children from her     
great store house innumerable blessings1
 to those who see books in running      
brooks1 sermons in stones and good in   
everything4  ,from the fern by the way  
side to the study of psychology--the    
most fascinating of all studies--there  
is something in which all can interest  

themselves1 but more especially for     
women1 for to me this seems woman's     
kingdom4 ,with much quicker perceptive  
faculties than men1 they are better able
 to see the finer more delicate portion 
of nature's handiwork and mysteries4    
,unfortunately in small towns if a woman
 tries to investigate spiritualism1 she 
is immediately called a spiritualist4   
,if she takes an interest in mesmerism  
and psychology1 she is called visionary4
 ,if she takes an interest in the       
religious discussion of the day1 she is 
called an atheist4 ,if she takes an     
interest in pathology she is called     
strong minded1 and who does not abhor   
the so-called strong minded woman4 ,a   
woman may be essentially womanly and    
take an interest in all these things4   
,brain was given to woman for reason and
 investigation1 and ,i rather choose to 
endure the wounds of those darts which  
envy casteth at novelty1 than to go on  
safely and sleepily in the easy ways of 
ancient mistakings4 ,life cannot but be 

pleasant to those who are fond of books1
 our silent companions4 ,they speak a   
language all their own and we can find  
companionship for every mood1 grave1    
gay1 dreamy1 discursive1 philosophical  
and scientific4  ,if you are a busy     
worker in a large city and wish a breath
 of country air1 a breeze from the      
meadow1 a ramble along a country road1  
read ,whittier's ,among the ,hills4     
,pleasant it was when woods were green  
,and winds were soft and low1      ,to  
lie amid some sylvan scene      ,where  
shadows dark--and sunlight sheen1       
,alternate come and go4  ,if you are    
weary with brain work and seek repose1  
read ,longfellow4       ,and the cares  
that infest the day1      ,shall fold   
their tents like the ,arabs1      ,and  
as silently steal away4  ,if in an      
heroic mood read ,milton4       ,for    
with thee      ,certain my resolution is
 to die1      ,how can ,i live without  
thee8 how forgo      ,thy sweet         
converse1 and love so dearly joined4    

,if fortune has smiled upon you and     
flattery falls sweet on your ear1 and   
you are in danger of forgetting the     
final end of all ambition read ,grays   
,elegy4       ,can storied urn1 or      
animated bust      ,back to its mansion 
call the fleeting breath8      ,can     
honor's voice provoke the silent dust   
,or flattery sooth the dull cold ear of 
death8  ,if you wish to be transported  
to the mystic cloud-land of fancy1 read 
,hawthorne4  ,sleeping or waking1 we    
hear not the airy footsteps of the      
strange things that almost happen4 ,he  
knew not that a phantom of wealth had   
thrown a golden hue upon its waters4    
,nor that one of death had threatened to
 crimson them with his blood1 all in the
 brief hour since he lay down to sleep4 
,to a dreamy and poetic mind what can be
 more exquisite than these few lines3   
,the next morning ,hieronymus put the   
scroll into his bosom1 and went his way 
in search of the ,fountain of ,oblivion4
 ,a few days brought him to the skirts  

of the ,black forest4 ,he entered1 not  
without a feeling of dread1 that land of
 shadows1 and passed onward under       
melancholy pines and cedars1 whose      
branches grew abroad and mingled        
together1 and1 as they swayed up and    
down1 filled the air with solemn        
twilight and a sound of sorrow4 ,as he  
advanced into the forest the waving moss
 hung1 like curtains1 from the branches 
overhead1 and more shut out the light of
 heaven2 and he knew the ,fountain of   
,oblivion was not far off4 ,even then   
the sound of falling waters was mingling
 with the roar of the pines above him2  
and ere long he came to a river1 moving 
in solemn majesty through the forest1   
and falling with a dull1 leaden sound   
into a motionless stagnant lake1 above  
which the branches of the forest met and
 mingled1 forming perpetual night4 ,this
 was the ,fountain of ,oblivion4 ,upon  
its brink the ,student paused1 and gazed
 into the dark waters with a steadfast  
look4 ,they were limpid waters dark with

 shadows only4 ,and as he gazed1 he     
beheld1 far down in their silent depths1
 dim and ill-defined outlines1 wavering 
to and fro1 like the folds of a white   
garment in the twilight4 ,then more     
distinct and permanent shapes           
arose1--shapes familiar to his mind1 yet
 forgotten and remembered again1 as the 
fragments of a dream2 till at length1   
far1 far below him he beheld the great  
,city of the ,past1 with silent marble  
streets1 and moss-grown walls1 and      
spires uprising with a wave-like1       
flickering motion4 ,and1 amid the crowd 
that thronged those streets he beheld   
faces once familiar and dear to him2 and
 heard sorrowful1 sweet voices singing1 
,o' forget us not6 forget us not6' and  
then the distant1 mournful sound of     
funeral bells1 that were tolling below1 
in the ,city of the ,past4         99   
99       99       99       99         99
       99       99       99       99    
,an artist is speaking3  ,a person may  
be a true artist1 who has never made a  

stroke with a brush4 ,any one who can   
blend colors harmoniously or produce    
effective contrasts in dress1 or even in
 so trivial a thing as fancy work1 is an
 artist4 ,again1 one may paint for years
 without the slightest knowledge of1 or 
taste for true art4 ,in painting a      
portrait1 something more is required    
than the mere likeness1 something       
besides pink and white prettiness4      
,perhaps in two or three centuries an   
artist is born1 one who in painting a   
portrait produces almost a living1      
breathing creature2 and is able by his  
magic touch1 to paint in the thoughts   
which flit through the brain2 the       
feelings which move the heart1 and is   
able to read almost the very soul4      
,many years ago a poor struggling       
painter in an ,italian studio1 conceived
 the idea of painting a picture of the  
,madonna4 ,he shut his doors to visitors
 in order to give full play to his      
imagination4 ,days and nights were spent
 in dreaming and working1 until he lost 

consciousness of the outer world and    
only lived for his work1 for this       
picture1 he was sure would make him     
famous4 ,days rolled into weeks and     
weeks into months1 and still the        
realization of his dream seemed as far  
off as when he first began4 ,the figure 
was standing with hands clasped and head
 bent in humble submission to the       
,divine will2 the graceful1 easy repose 
of the limbs1 every curve and line was  
perfect4 ,but the face6 ,it seemed at   
times as if he had accomplished the     
great task1 yet the expression always   
eluded his most earnest efforts1 the    
heavenly expression of the ,divine      
mother was wanting4 ,at last1 after many
 failures and vain efforts1 it occurred 
to him to open his doors to visitors and
 perchance he could catch the longed-for
 expression from the faces of the women 
who might visit him4 ,as soon as it was 
announced that the artist had opened his
 doors1 people came from neighboring    
towns and cities1 attracted as much by  

the desire to see the strange person    
whom they thought a monomaniac1 as by   
the wish to see the picture4 ,women of  
rank and fashion arrived daily1 and it  
was a curious study to watch the intent 
gaze which he fixed upon them1 hoping1  
praying1 in each one to find the desired
 expression4 ,occasionally he would     
request some beautiful woman to remain  
standing in a certain attitude1 when he 
fancied he had caught the look for which
 he was striving1 but it always proved  
unsatisfactory1 for often the stately   
robes covered an aching heart which told
 its story very plainly on the canvass4 
,again a lovely girl would be asked to  
pose1 but here alas was disappointment1 
for oftentimes the face expressed       
prettiness1 but nothing more4 ,then     
again the canvass reflected the image of
 some worldly-wise woman with           
selfishness stamped upon it4 ,again the 
look of envy stared him in the face1 or 
pride mocked at him while he struggled  
vainly on4 ,as the last resort a young  

mother and her child were requested to  
favor him with a sitting4 ,here he      
thought ,i shall surely succeed4 ,he    
worked steadily on and success seemed at
 last before him4 ,the last stroke of   
the brush had been made and stepping    
back to view the work1 his heart sank   
within him1 for here he had succeeded in
 catching the look of lovely maternity1 
with the expression of the earthly      
mother imprinted thereon1 but the       
combination of human love and ,divine   
motherhood was wanting4  ,just at       
nightfall1 sick at heart1 weary and     
discouraged1 he wandered out into the   
streets1 going on and on until he found 
himself in the portion of the city      
inhabited by the very poor2 passing an  
old church1 he was attracted toward it1 
scarcely knowing how or why4 ,on        
entering the door1 he saw a woman       
dressed in rags1 kneeling before the    
altar4 ,the man gazed in wonder and awe1
 for here amidst poverty and distress1  
he had found the expression vainly      

sought after1 for weeks and months4 ,in 
the face before him1 there was no envy1 
hatred or selfishness1 no vain glory or 
hypocracy1 but the resigned look of one 
who suffered but bowed1 meekly to the   
chastizement4 ,at eventide1 and alone1  
she had brought her sufferings to the   
foot of the ,cross4         99       99 
99       99       99         99       99
       99       99       99  ,i hear the
 voice of the ,cynic4  ,friendship is a 
myth4 ,in prosperity and sunshine you   
find yourself surrounded by flatterers  
and so called friends1 but let the waves
 of adversity beat about and threaten to
 engulf you--then stretch forth your    
hands for the friends you have known and
 you will find yourself stranded        
and--alone4 ,there may be a few timid1  
shrinking creatures who feel they would 
like to give the right hand of          
fellowship1 but popular opinion and     
example prove too much for their weak   
natures and it is but charity to let    
them go4  ,there are times when we are  

even inclined to smile at our own       
misery1 but it is the smile which brings
 wrinkles instead of dimples4         99
       99       99       99       99    
99       99       99       99       99  
,the ,philosopher is saying3  ,time in  
its resistless onward sweep has taught  
us many things2 has disabused our minds 
of many false ideas and erroneous views1
 has opened a new world to the thinking 
mind--a world of thought4 ,when ,god    
created man he gave to him the divine   
instinct of reason1 by which all        
persons1 high and low1 rich and poor1   
can solve for herself and himself the   
great problem of life4 ,very young      
children can only see objects that come 
within easy range of their vision2 they 
are in the world of instinct1 but after 
a time their vision becomes enlarged1   
they are able to see a greater distance1
 and in the larger space2 more to arrest
 the eye--then comes consciousness4     
,after consciousness--reason4 ,the minds
 of many adults are still in their      

infancy1 only seeing in a small circle  
the things by which they are surrounded 
and in close proximity4 ,others are in a
 state of consciousness and nothing     
more4 ,they live1 they breath1 they have
 their being1 but the great mysteries   
which surround them1 the wonderful      
problems of life1 are as nothing to     
them4 ,then again there is the mind that
 has reached the height of reason1 and  
to that mind what a vast world has      
opened before it4 ,the wonderful works  
of an all-wise ,creator1 the mysteries  
of nature that are so perplexing1 are   
all open for the investigation of the   
reasoning thinking mind4  ,the venomous 
insect beneath our feet1 and the noblest
 and best of our domestic animals2 the  
terrible forces of the earth1 the       
tornado and volcano2 the gently         
murmuring spring and the boisterous     
ocean2 the forest monarch and the pale  
forget-me-not within its shade1 are all 
witnesses of a creative power4  ,from   
the animalcul up to ,gods noblest work1 

man1 there is the evidence of an        
all-ruling power and intelligence4      
,interwoven and interlined through all  
nature's great mysteries there is the   
mark of an invisible hand and all-seeing
 power1 which rules and guides the      
universe4       ,that very law which    
moulds a tear        ,and bids it       
trickle from its source1      ,that law 
preserves the earth a sphere        ,and
 guides the planets in their course4    
,it is by reason and investigation that 
we are permitted to partially understand
 the strange mysteries of a wonderful   
world4 ,each one must reason for himself
 or what better are they intellectually1
 than the child who only sees and cannot
 understand8 ,had it not been for       
investigation and reason1 we would still
 have believed the earth to be flat1 and
 in the rising and setting of the sun4  
,there is a law governing all things4   
,there is a connecting link between     
earth1 air and sea1 between flowers1    
beasts and birds1 between mankind and   

all animals1 and inanimate things1 a    
mysterious joining of mind to matter4   
,it is an intangible something1 perhaps 
an electrical current1 but certain it is
 that the line is there and unbroken1   
and between every human creature whom   
,god has made1 there is the same        
unbroken chain1 which can be followed up
 link by link1 step by step1 until we   
find ourselves on the boundaries of the 
next world and perhaps beyond2 who can  
tell8 ,the chain may be unbroken even   
then4  ,what matters it if ,i do not    
believe8--perhaps because ,i do no not  
understand your creeds1 your dogmas4    
,what matters it if ,i do not interpret 
the working of ,gods ways in the same   
manner which you do8  ,there is the same
 principle guiding us all1 and we bow   
the head reverently to the one ,god who 
is the same yesterday1 to day and       
forever4  ,nations1 like individuals1   
pass through the usual form of youth1   
manhood1 old age1 and decay4 ,religion1 
like nations and individuals1 passes    

through the regular gradation1 first of 
infancy1 when religious ideas and       
thoughts are crude in the extreme2 the  
age of ,puritanism1 when innocent women 
and children are burned at the stake for
 witchcraft1 when with gloomy faces and 
in unsightly dress the poor fanatics    
sacrificed every pleasure on the altar  
of duty2 the time when ,sunday was a day
 of horror to children from its gloom1 a
 day when every innocent amusement was  
forbidden4 ,after religion's infancy    
comes youth4 ,at that stage1 the absurd 
dress and gloomy faces were not         
considered essential adjuncts to        
religion1 but free discussion was not   
allowed upon religious subjects4        
,everything must be taken for granted1  
without any investigation on the part of
 the people4 ,after youth comes manhood1
 the time when reason has full sway1    
when superstition and credulities form  
no part of religious teaching and       
thought4 ,people are able to think1 to  
reason for themselves4 ,after the age of

 manhood1 comes old age and that is the 
stage of agnosticism4 ,questions are    
being asked1 and ideas propounded which 
must not be overlooked nor treated with 
contempt4 ,all questions asked in a fair
 spirit1 must be answered in a fair     
manner4 ,it is not sufficient to say1 it
 is so1 but good and tangible reasons   
must be given to prove the truth of an  
assertion4 ,we are now in the stage of  
old age4 ,agnosticism and ,infidelity   
are wide spread4 ,after old age comes   
decay and the decline of the absolutely 
orthodox4 ,from time immemorial1 every  
religion has passed through the same    
gradation1 of infancy1 youth1 old age   
and decay finally comes philosophy4     
99       99       99       99       99  
99       99       99       99       99  
,a ,swedenborgian is speaking3  ,down by
 the sounding sea1 in a lonely cottage1 
lives a woman1 so wrinkled1 old and bent
 that even death seems to have forgotten
 her existence4 ,it would be difficult  
to imagine that once she was a beauty1  

but true it is that many years ago no   
fresher1 fairer maiden could be found   
than this same strange old woman4 ,sixty
 years ago she had a sailor lover1 who  
loved her truly and well4 ,on his return
 after every cruise it was a sight to   
soften the heart of even the hardest1 to
 witness the joyful meeting1 the lovers 
kiss1 in which there was no shame1 the  
tears of joy in which there was no      
weakness2 the heartfelt pleasure of two 
honest hearts4 ,but the partings were   
soon to be over1 for after the next     
voyage the young lovers were to be      
wedded4 ,the simple wedding dress was   
made and all was ready4 ,with gay       
snatches of song1 and merry feet the    
young girl flitted about the house1     
impatiently waiting the day which was to
 bring her lover4 ,there was only one   
more day of waiting and to-morrow1      
to-morrow he comes1 she sang4 ,early in 
the evening dark clouds formed in the   
sky1 the wind began to moan1 the waves  
beat high upon the shore1 the murmuring 

winds changed to howling blasts1 the    
waves rolled mountains high1 the spirits
 of the sea and air seemed to have      
arisen in their fury1 doors rattled1    
houses shook on their foundations--and  
to-morrow came1 but no lover4 ,the      
wedding clothes were laid away1 and the 
day which was to have seen the young    
girl made a happy wife1 found her a     
heart-broken stricken woman2 and now she
 must take up her burden1 and from month
 to month and year to year1 carry this  
leaden weight called a heart4  ,the     
years rolled by taking with them her    
girlish beauty1 and leaving in its place
 the wrinkles of time and sorrow4 ,as   
time passed the idea took possession of 
her that her lover would still come     
back4 ,true the vessel in which he      
sailed had been wrecked1 but still there
 lingered the one faint hope1 and every 
night she lit the lamp and placed it in 
the window as she had done in her youth1
 as the beacon light for the absent     
love4 ,as time passed she followed her  

father to the grave and in a short time 
stood by the bed of her dying mother4   
,and now she was alone in her loneliness
 and desolation4 ,every year when the   
day came which was to have been her     
wedding day1 the white dress1 which had 
grown yellow with age1 was taken out1   
folded and flowers scattered over it as 
carefully as we would sprinkle flowers  
over a child's grave1 for in the box in 
which the garment lay1 were buried all  
her hopes4 ,does it not seem strange    
that one can live on year after year1   
with no hope1 no joy2 waken in the      
morning with the thought that here is   
another day to be passed over1 another  
night with the sad dreams and gloomy    
awaking4  ,at the approach of a storm1  
when the clouds began to gather1 the    
solitary woman could be seen standing on
 the shore gazing long and earnestly    
over the dark waters4 ,but at last it   
was with difficulty that she dragged    
herself to the beach and her hands      
trembled so that she could scarcely     

light the lamp for the window1 but she  
said to herself he will surely come1 for
 if faith1 hope and long suffering1 if  
patient waiting1 prayers and longing    
have power to affect disembodied        
spirits1 my faith will surely be        
rewarded4  ,and now another year has    
passed and again the anniversary of the 
sad day has dawned4 ,with trembling1    
withered hands1 she once more unfolds   
the wedding dress4 ,she must make one   
more visit to the shore1 for she feels  
it will be for the last time1 as with   
slow uncertain steps she drags herself  
along4 ,and now as night approaches she 
is too ill to light the lamp4           
,neighbors miss the accustomed light1   
find the lonely woman too ill to rise1  
and they know that in a few hours all   
will be over4 ,they lit the lamp to     
humor the whim of a dying woman4 ,the   
winds began to moan fitfully2 the waves 
could be heard dashing on the shore1    
while the lightning flashed and         
illuminated the room in which the woman 

lay4 ,there is something weird in the   
whole scene--the lighted lamp for the   
lover1 dead over half a century1 the    
dying woman1 the moaning wind1 and the  
sound of the waters4 ,and now she is    
muttering in her dreams1 and talking to 
her lover1 she has forgotten all the    
years that have passed1 and is bidding  
him a joyous welcome and while the storm
 is at its height1 a smile of tenderness
 has passed over the face of the old    
creature1 making her look almost young1 
when the door opens2 a figure in a wet  
winding sheet1 with hair in which was   
mingled sea weed1 glides to the         
bed-side1 a whispered utterance from the
 dying woman1 he has come1 the figure   
moves again to the door4 ,an invisible  
power has extinguished the light1 and   
the flame of the lamp and the woman's   
soul1 have gone out together1 while from
 the bedside to the door there is the   
trail of wet garments4  ,again ,i hear  
the voice of the ,cynic4  ,this is an   
age of shoddyism1 and it is difficult at

 times to distinguish the real from the 
sham4 ,the woman who is covered with    
jewelry1 looking like a travelling      
doorplate1 is the kind from whom we     
expect the bow to vary1 in coldness or  
cordiality1 according to the clothes we 
wear1 or the entertainments we are able 
to give4 ,with such people money means  
everything1 brains and breeding being   
secondary considerations4 ,and it is    
very amusing on meeting ,madam ,shoddy  
to note the look with which she scans   
one from head to foot1 balancing in her 
mind the cost of each article of        
apparel1 her mind wholly given up to    
dollars and cents1 and woe unto the     
person1 who does not come up to the     
proper standard1 of pounds1 shillings   
and pence4  ,in talking with such a one 
you will find their conversation        
frequently interlarded with the use of  
the words ladies and gentlemen4 ,but    
madam shoddy does really very little    
actual harm1 all these things being a   
harmless sort of imbecility4  ,but at   

the hands of ,madam ,snob1 one will not 
fare as well1 for having nothing noble  
in her own nature she is constantly     
picking flaws in the character of       
others4 ,madam ,snob will entertain you 
with a long account of her family       
connections4 ,poor soul she is          
constantly resurrecting the remains of  
dead and gone ancestors2 her life is    
spent in the charnel house1 being very  
careful however1 to let the remains of a
 certain few rest in peace1 while she   
rattles the dry bones of her favored    
ones in our face1 until we are tempted  
to cry peace4 ,at last our curiosity is 
aroused1 and we make inquiries as to    
these noble ancestors1 and find the     
overwhelming fact--that they had been   
born6 and that they had died6 very noble
 of them to have been born1 and very    
heroic1 to have died4 ,if the successors
 would follow their illustrious example 
in the last act1 the world would still  
exist4 ,but you say this is harmless and
 only another form of idiocy4 ,true if  

it stopped there1 no harm would be done4
 ,but did any one ever know ,madam ,snob
 to stop there8 ,after having visited   
her family vault1 you are requested to  
enter the abode of your neighbor's dead1
 and then your turn will come next and  
you are asked by madam to unearth your  
dead4 ,now to people who know little and
 care less about their great1 great1    
great grandfather1 all this is very     
amusing4 ,if the ,bible be true1 and who
 can doubt it8 there was an ark built in
 which ,god's chosen were placed for    
safety4 ,now any one is safe in saying  
my ancestry dates from the ark but ,i   
think it would be rather difficult for a
 person to trace their ancestry from the
 time the chosen few stepped from the   
ark to dry land1 down to the present    
time4 ,but every one has some           
imagination1 and in order to gratify    
,madam ,snob's curiosity1 just make use 
of it4 ,tell her some were hanged1 some 
were drowned1 some were in prison for   
debt1 one fought in the ,war of the     

,roses1 one was killed in a street      
brawl1 another hanged for treason4 ,tell
 her--well tell her anything that will  
satisfy her curiosity1 for there are    
times when an elastic conscience is     
excusable4 ,there is another ,madam     
,snob1 who not knowing in the slightest 
degree what constitutes a lady1 is      
ignorant of the fact that a lady is     
civil to everyone2 this madam is uncivil
 to her servants1 but does not hesitate 
to gossip with them1 is careless1 in    
speech and manner1 in the presence of   
inferiors1 in fact is guided wholly in  
matters of civility by the position in  
which the people are in1 whom she is    
with2 is constantly talking of society1 
and turning up her aristocratic nose at 
trades-people and in nine cases out of  
ten1 her father was a cobbler1 or kept a
 peanut stand1 neither of which would do
 her any harm1 if she only knew that    
silence is golden4 ,we say1 that is the 
lowest form of snob feminine and rarely 
met with4  ,there is another form of    

snobbery which is not so easily         
recognized1 and requires a good judge of
 human nature to detect4 ,this ,madam   
,snob is one who should be a lady1 for  
by education and good breeding she is   
entitled to the name4 ,now1 she really  
possess a good1 kind heart1 is kind to  
the poor1 tries to do her duty1 but away
 down1 under several layers of good     
intentions1 there is a little taint of  
snobbery1 and she really has not the    
moral courage to rid herself of it4     
,this ,mrs4 ,snob may have a large      
circle of friends1 but to each one she  
accords a different reception2 to all   
she is kind1 remember1 but you can judge
 of her opinion of different ones1 from 
the invitations which she issues4 ,first
 in her estimation1 come the fashionable
 people1 those she asks to her dinner   
parties2 then the people whose position 
in life is not very good1 she asks to   
luncheon2 then at last1 come those whom 
she really does not know how to place1  
and they are the ones she asks to meet  

her alone4  ,now this poor woman1 for   
whom ,i have a degree of pity1 not      
unmixed with contempt1 is in a constant 
struggle with herself1 in her desire to 
do what she thinks to be right1 and at  
the same time1 do everything that her   
neighbors do1 for she is bound hand and 
foot and dare not make an independent   
move4 ,but if ,mrs4 ,fitznoodle were to 
do certain things1 ,mrs4 ,fitzsnob would
 follow her example1 and the people who 
are asked to meet their hostess--alone1 
might find themselves seated around the 
mahogany with ,mr4 and ,mrs4 ,fitznoodle
 and daughters and a select circle of   
little ,noodles4  ,again1 ,mrs4         
,fitznoodle1 with several marriageable  
daughters1 is constantly on the lookout 
for unwary young men1 ignoring the fact 
of their want of brains1 lack of        
breeding1 and wholly regardless of the  
fact that they have no family           
connections1 but she spreads her net and
 perhaps succeeds in catching this      
eligible young man4 ,mrs4 ,fitzsnob     

immediately sees something in that young
 man to admire1 and seeks his           
acquaintance1 and much to his surprise1 
and to the surprise of everyone else1 he
 finds himself for the first time in    
what is termed good society4 ,now this  
,mrs4 ,fitzsnob is not a rara avis1 but 
is frequently met with4 ,yet how many   
ladies do we see8 ,we meet many calling 
themselves such1 who do not hesitate to 
talk scandal1 to injure their neighbors2
 to ridicule people1 to accept of       
hospitality and comment ill-naturedly   
upon it1 to talk slang4 ,all these      
things and more1 people do who call     
themselves1 ladies4 ,there are houses on
 which should be placed signs1 as on    
pest houses1 and whose occupants should 
be labelled dangerous1 for their tongues
 are more dangerous than the sting of   
the adder1 and they are in so-called    
society4 ,heaven save the mark6  ,woman1
 the most perfect of all ,god's work1   
why do you not scourge society of       
scandal mongers1 of snobs8 ,why do you  

not dare to do what you think and know  
to be right8 ,why will you allow        
yourselves to be ruled and guided by the
 opinion of others8 ,a woman's instinct 
is her safest guide2 if she follows it  
she will not err4  ,it is not women     
alone1 who are tainted with snobbishness
 and shoddyism1 but how frequently we   
see it in men1 generally those who have 
very little brain and often in those    
whom the world calls self-made-men4 ,now
 there is nothing in the world so       
aggressive as the same self-made-man4   
,the air with which he moves along1 as  
though upon him depended the revolution 
of the world on its axis1 and the safety
 and welfare of its inhabitants4 ,he    
never allows himself1 nor others1 to    
forget the fact that he is self-made4   
,the laborer1 who1 by dint of hard work 
and economy1 has succeeded in making a  
little money2 with what eagerness he    
tries to gain some petty office1 and in 
a few years his daughters will tell us  
that they belong to the old families4   

,how much old families have got to      
answer for6 ,it would sound refreshing  
in this age of snobbery1 to see some one
 who did not consider themselves as     
belonging to one of the old families4   
,the male snob has developed within the 
past year1 into the dude4 ,by a process 
of evolution1 which ,darwin undoubtedly 
could have traced1 we have him before us
 in all his beauty4 ,to commence1 first1
 he must have a little money1 with that 
he buys a tight fitting suit of clothes1
 a diamond ring1 a gold headed cane1 a  
very small hat1 carries his arms akimbo1
 and in all the perfection of           
loveliness1 he stands out1 a thing apart
 from the rest of humanity4 ,perhaps in 
two or three centuries1 the process of  
evolution taking place all the time1    
something may be put into the small     
cranium1 which will be called a brain1  
but it must evolute rapidly or the sun  
will have cooled1 and there will be     
another glacial period before that event
 takes place4  ,then we have before us  

the man with three hundred dollars a    
year income1 who apes the manner of the 
gentleman of leisure4  ,and now again we
 have what may be called an intellectual
 snob2 the man who has a fair share of  
brain1 but not sufficient to make a name
 for himself1 not enough to make himself
 distinguished in any way4 ,so where    
honest candor would expose him1 he apes 
the manner of clever men1 allowing      
himself to get decidedly out at elbows1 
to wear clothes which decidedly require 
brushing1 seats himself in a corner as  
though pondering some weighty matter1   
tries to look profound--when he probably
 looks simply1 stupid4 ,this is         
intellectual snobbishness4 ,how many    
people we meet who cover their ignorance
 by a look of profundity4  ,when will   
people learn that snobbery is the       
evidence of a small mind1 and that      
shoddyism is the proof of a vulgar one8 
,how long before people will be         
convinced of the fact1 that1 education1 
talent1 and good breeding1 are the most 

essential requisites for success4       
99       99       99       99       99  
99       99       99       99       99  
,the psychologist says4  ,in dreams1 and
 profound reveries we forget our        
surroundings1 we travel over land and   
seas1 through sunny lands1 and many     
persons tell us that it is simply the   
mind which creates1 the mind which      
travels4 ,not so2 it is the soul which  
journeys forth and is actually in those 
places1 having left the body while it   
wanders alone4  ,a person lying         
dangerously ill1 suffering acute pain1  
is given a narcotic and after a time1   
sleep is produced4 ,the pain-racked body
 lies there motionless as a lump of     
clay1 pain is forgotten but the soul    
takes a journey1 and for a time revels  
in joy1 flits through a shady grove1 or 
stops for a moment beside a running     
brook1 scales lofty heights or lingers  
in a lovely valley2 the effect of the   
narcotic wears off1 pain returns and the
 pleasant vision is ended4 ,now the mind

 could not have created these pleasant  
scenes1 for as everyone knows1 there is 
complete sympathy between the body and  
mind1 and a diseased1 pain-tossed body1 
would produce a diseased mind4 ,between 
sleep and death there is a wonderful    
similarity4 ,in sleep the soul wanders  
forth and returns to the body1 in death 
it journeys over the broad sea of       
eternity into the great unknown4 ,have  
you ever stood at the bedside of a dying
 child and seen the look of joy that    
passes over its face8 ,in many instances
 the child being too young to reason1   
too young to create for itself pleasant 
scenes4 ,then what could have produced  
the ecstatic joy8 ,i stood by the bed of
 a dying child1 a mere infant4 ,the     
little sufferer had lain unconscious    
during the day1 efforts were made to    
arouse it1 the mother was bending over  
the bed anxious for one look of         
recognition1 but the efforts were       
useless1 the stupor continued until     
suddenly1 to the surprise of the        

watchers1 the little creature raised its
 hand1 and pointed upward1 with a smile 
of perfect joy1 and at that moment the  
soul winged its flight4  ,materialists  
will say the child had been told of the 
beauties of another world1 and at the   
last moment memory and reason returned1 
and the beauties which had been         
depicted1 were suddenly recalled to     
mind4 ,but in this instance the child   
was too young to have been told pleasing
 stories2 and the mind could not have   
created for itself a vision4 ,then what 
was it8 ,at the moment of dissolution   
the soul had flitted through the gates  
of the eternal city4         99       99
       99       99       99         99  
99       99       99       99  ,a study 
in sombre tints3  ,in one of the large  
cities in the wretched portion where    
men1 women and children hive together1  
there lived--or existed--a little boy1  
so small1 so insignificant1 that the    
people with whom he came in contact     
would scarcely have considered him      

worthy of mention4 ,he was a wee        
specimen of humanity with flaxen hair   
and blue eyes1 and people who stopped to
 notice him at all1 saw something so    
strange1 so pathetic in the childish    
look1 that they involuntarily turned to 
look again4 ,he spent the days selling  
matches2 the nights he spent as he      
could1 in empty boxes1 on bundles of    
straw1 in miserable alleys1 anywhere1   
where night overtook him4 ,there was no 
one to make enquiries1 for he was alone1
 alone in the great city1 alone in the  
world4 ,one stormy night a woman found  
her way to one of the wretched tenement 
houses1 bearing in her arms a tiny      
burden4 ,one of the inhabitants1 more   
kindly than the rest1 took her in1 gave 
her the only bed they had1 a pallet of  
straw1 on which she lay for a few days1 
making no complaint1 giving little      
trouble4 ,the women saw at a glance that
 she was a different order of being from
 themselves1 that she belonged to       
another world than theirs4 ,but by what 

chance had she wandered there8          
,questions were asked but no answers    
returned4 ,she simply asked to be left  
alone4 ,in a short time she died1       
leaving behind the little bundle of     
humanity1 bequeathing to him nothing but
 her own sensitive nature1 the same blue
 eyes and flaxen hair1 and the name     
,ned1 nothing more4 ,they buried her in 
the potter's field1 and a life's tragedy
 was ended4 ,little ,ned lived among    
them1 getting more blows than kind      
words1 nearly always hungry1 but never  
complaining4 ,if they gave him food he  
ate it2 if he got none1 he never        
murmured4 ,the rough women1             
involuntarily1 lowered their voices when
 little ,ned was present1 for there was 
something they could never comprehend   
about the strange child4 ,they felt he  
was with them but not of them4 ,he was  
unlike the children in the street1 never
 seeking1 but shunning their society4   
,after a time he was old enough to go on
 the street and sell matches1 and it was

 a relief to the women when he was gone1
 for then there was no restraint1 and   
the little lonely waif was turned       
adrift4 ,little ,ned seemed never quite 
alone1 for he frequently talked alone1  
asked questions which seemed to have    
been answered--in fact lived in a world1
 peopled by his own childish fancy1 and 
passed unharmed through danger and sin1 
where one1 more conscious of evil1 would
 have fallen4 ,how unlike the world he  
was in1 was the one he pictured to      
himself4 ,at night he crawled into empty
 boxes1 scarcely knowing what it was to 
go to sleep without feeling hungry1 but 
the ,goddess of dreams wove golden      
threads through the brain of little     
,ned1 weaving her most brilliant colors1
 through the warp and woof of his       
childish dreams1 as if in compensation  
for the sombre colors and gloom of his  
waking moments1 and no child lying on   
his bed of down1 placed there by the    
careful hands of nurse1 and receiving   
the mother's good night kiss1 ever had  

sweeter1 purer dreams1 than the         
friendless1 homeless match-seller on his
 bed of straw4 ,mothers1 do you ever    
think when you see your children safe in
 their warm beds1 of the numberless     
little waifs in large cities1 whose     
resting places are pallets of straw1    
whose good night kisses are the cold    
breath of poverty8  ,there was very     
little variety in the life of little    
,ned4 ,waking in the morning1 he would  
start out with the matches1 selling them
 if he could1 if not1 hunger1 to which  
he was so accustomed1 was his companion4
 ,so from day to day it was the same    
story1 the only variation1 the only     
change was in his dreams and visions2   
hunger could not deprive him of that    
solace1 the cold could not freeze the   
warm fancies and imaginations4 ,one     
morning in early spring little ,ned     
awoke from his pleasant dreams and      
started on his route4 ,passing          
numberless people1 some stopped to look 
at him carefully1 for his face had such 

a strange look1 his eyes had such a     
dreamy expression1 and at times he      
smiled to himself as he moved along4    
,but people did not stop long1 for who  
in a large1 busy city has time to       
enquire into the life and means of      
living of a little match seller4 ,all   
day long1 he trudged his weary way1 and 
towards night-fall he found himself     
nearer the suburbs than he had ever been
 before4 ,he passes a house which is    
brilliantly lighted1 and strains of gay 
music reach his ear4 ,moving to the     
window1 which was open1 he gazes with   
open-eyed wonder at the scene within4   
,it is evidently a children's party for 
little fairy forms are flitting about in
 a merry dance1 and all is light1 warmth
 and happiness1 while outside with his  
face pressed close to the window stands 
little ,ned4 ,his flaxen hair is blown  
by the wind1 his blue eyes open to their
 widest extent as he looks at the gay   
scene1 of which he forms no part4       
,inside1 all is happiness1 outside is   

the gloom of night1 and the desolate    
figure of little ,ned4 ,he turns away   
with a sigh1 turns away from the        
happiness he has never known1 into the  
darkness with which he is so familiar4  
,he has grown very hungry1 having eaten 
nothing since noon4 ,seeing a woman     
before a handsome carriage1 he tells his
 story1 but it falls on stony ground1   
the woman has nothing to give1 and      
leaves him standing there1 while she    
dries away4 ,o1 the rarity of ,christian
 charity6 ,such are the women whose     
names very often head the list of       
subscriptions for ,christian missions1  
but who turn a deaf ear to the sorrows  
of people at their own door2 but if they
 give to the poor in secret no one will 
know it1 while if they head a list with 
a large sum1 they will be called good   
,christian women4  ,little ,ned starts  
again1 trudging bravely on1 foot-sore   
and hungry1 and now he is in a strange  
part of the city1 a place entirely new  
to him4 ,a large building attracts his  

attention1 and the sounds of voices     
reach his ear4 ,going to the door he    
sees a clergyman--a young man--talking  
earnestly to a group of rough looking   
men1 evidently working men4 ,the speaker
 does not stand aloof from them as      
though afraid to come in contact with   
them1 but is talking freely1 and has    
succeeded in getting their undivided    
attention1 has won their hearts by his  
sympathy with them1 has shown them that 
he is like themselves--subject to human 
errors and weakness1 and these rough men
 are listening attentively1 as they     
would never do to lengthy discourses    
about things of which they knew nothing4
 ,here was a ,christian--thank heaven   
there are such--who has not placed      
himself on a lofty pedestal1 while the  
hearers feel that he is far from them   
both in heart and sympathy1 but they    
feel that he is a man like themselves2  
he has touched the human part of their  
natures1 and the rest will be easy4     
,little ,ned listened1 for the minister 

was speaking of things with which the   
listeners were familiar2 of sin1 of     
sorrow1 of temptations1 speaking        
cheerful words of comfort1 leading them 
step by step to something higher and    
holier than they had ever dreamed of4   
,at last1 in language they could all    
understand1 he told them of another     
life1 another world where sin and sorrow
 could not enter4 ,the child listened1  
and as he left the building hunger and  
fatigue were forgotten4 ,only half      
comprehending what the clergyman had    
said1 only remembering in a confused way
 that he had spoken of a brighter world2
 one wholly unlike this one1 one in     
which there would be no more hunger and 
cold1 no more blows and harsh usage1 the
 little fellow started in search1       
resolved to find it4 ,surely it could   
not be very difficult to find1 and it   
must be some place outside this great   
city4 ,little ,ned started on his       
search1 going towards the open country1 
toward the place where the moon was     

rising1 never doubting1 never fearing1  
but that he would succeed4 ,day after   
day he wandered on1 eating berries which
 he found by the wayside1 and           
occasionally asking for something to    
eat4 ,he slept in the open air1 for he  
knew no fear2 his brain still weaving   
the golden threads2 still talking to    
invisible spirits2 his face looking so  
spiritual that one was not surprised    
that strange tongues spoke a strange    
language to the lonely boy4 ,he has     
wandered on until his feet are sore and 
a feeling of weariness steals over him2 
he looks around and finds that he is no 
nearer than when he started to the      
bright world which the clergyman had    
talked about4 ,so he resolves to turn1  
to go back to the place where he had    
seen the minister1 and ask him to show  
him the way4 ,back he turns on his long 
journey4 ,step by step1 slowly and      
wearily he trudges along1 his eyes have 
grown larger1 his skin more transparent1
 and each day finds him a little weaker1

 but he feels that he must go on4       
,strange voices are speaking to him more
 frequently than ever1 and his dreams   
are filled with visions of the new world
 of which he has heard1 and now he has  
almost reached his journeys end1 but it 
requires a great effort for him to move1
 he is so foot-sore and weary1 but the  
voices are urging him on and at last the
 building is in sight4 ,he drags himself
 wearily to the door4 ,it is night and  
the door is open--the place is deserted1
 but he throws himself down on the floor
 with a sigh of contentment4 ,the next  
morning they found him with his hands   
clasped and face upturned to the skies4 
,the blue eyes were opened wide1 the    
lips parted in a happy smile1 and poor  
little lonely ,ned had found the bright 
world4  ,the ,poet says3  ,so many abler
 tongues and pens than mine have chosen 
the ,st4 ,lawrence as a theme on which  
they have written love songs1 romances  
and legends1 that it would ill-become me
 to even attempt the subject4 ,a writer1

 many years ago1 while paddling up the  
river and among the ,islands1 expressed 
himself thus3 ,as the sun set below the 
islands the full moon rose in all her   
beauty4 ,the light evening breeze had   
subsided into a calm2 not a breath of   
air ruffled the glassy waters4          
,impressed with the solemnity of the    
scene1 ,i could not refrain from wishing
 that here1 at least1 ,nature might be  
permitted to reign unmolested1 but the  
solitary watch-fires of the recent      
settlers gave proof that though his     
tenure was yet but frail1 man6 rapacious
 and indefatigable man6 was fast        
establishing usurpation4 ,this was      
written many years ago4 ,what would be  
the astonishment of the writer1 if he   
could revisit the scene4 ,would he think
 it improvement or desecration8 ,on the 
islands cottages are built1 and well    
kept lawns1 sloping down to the water1  
are brightened by the bright dresses of 
women and children1 and in some places  
the modern game of lawn tennis is being 

played1 and everything shows that       
,nature has not been allowed to reign   
unmolested4 ,steamboats are plying from 
place to place2 pleasure seekers lift   
their voices to hear the sounds         
re-echoed from island to island1 from   
shore to shore1 until the faint         
reverberation is lost among the         
murmuring pines4 ,surely the crags and  
trees1 the pines and poplars1 are       
tempted to return the echo as a protest 
against this invasion4 ,if the          
sensibilities were quickened to the     
sounds of nature1 the words re-echoed   
would be leave us alone in our solitude4
  ,the ,st4 ,lawrence does not speak to 
our hearts of deep tragedies1 but       
breathes into the soul a spirit of love4
  ,when ,eve plucked death from the tree
 of life and brought tears of sorrow    
upon earth1 ,adam was driven out into   
the world to mourn with her1 and taste  
from the bitter spring that we drink    
to-day4  ,then angels on their wings1   
bore the silent ,eden to the eternal    

spheres on high1 and placed it in the   
heavens--but in passing through space1  
they dropped along the way1 to mark     
their course1 some flowers from the     
garden divine4 ,these flowers of        
changing hues1 falling into the great   
river1 became the ,thousand ,isles--the 
,paradise of the ,st4 ,lawrence4  ,it is
 a study to watch the different         
expressions and manners of the people   
whom we meet4 ,there is the woman who1  
on meeting makes one feel that they have
 passed through some difficult surgical 
operation1 her look is so hard and      
penetrating1 like the surgeon's knife4  
,then another with an expression so     
benevolent1 so charitable1 that one is  
inclined to turn again to catch one more
 glimpse of the kindly face4 ,a little  
farther on we see a young girl1 with a  
look so joyous and happy1 so entirely   
free from care1 that we are impelled to 
search for the rosy glasses through     
which she views life4 ,time1 the        
dispeller of all golden hued visions1   

has left her mind untouched1 and she    
retains the joyous dreams of youth4     
,there is another with a look of        
discontent1 amounting to almost misery4 
,the rose-colored glasses have been     
broken early1 and she is gazing through 
the murky1 cloudy atmosphere of         
discontent4 ,another young girl is      
passing1 and look closely6 her face is a
 study1 with its varying expression1    
reflecting every passing mood1 then gay1
 now sad4 ,the world either hardens or  
breaks the heart4 ,which process is her 
heart undergoing8 ,in a few years1      
meeting her again1 the face will be the 
page on which the story will be written 
in full1 either in sombre tints or      
golden gleams4  ,once more look at the  
daintily dressed woman coming down the  
street4 ,she was made for sunshine and  
happiness1 adversity would kill her4    
,there are women who give one the       
impression that they should have all the
 good gifts which the gods provide1     
should be carefully looked after1       

tenderly cared for1 they will share your
 joys1 but no need to tell them your    
sorrows1 for what can they know of      
sorrow8 they whose feet have always     
travelled in smooth places4 ,refinement 
of manner and delicacy of feeling are   
essential qualities for every lady2 but 
spare us the dainty woman4 ,in hospitals
 there are women1 educated and refined1 
who witness sights daily which cause    
them to sicken and shudder1 but they are
 none the less refined1 because they    
look upon the suffering of some poor    
mortal1 none the less ladies1 because   
they assist in alleviating the distress 
of their own kind4 ,but dainty1 they can
 not be1 thank heaven6 ,it is the dainty
 woman who1 if she sees a diseased1     
shabbily dressed mortal in trouble1     
passes quickly to the other side for    
fear of contamination1 if she sees a    
child in distress hesitates1 before     
offering help1 to see if it is cleanly1 
and then the hand she offers is so      
nerveless1 helpless and lifeless1 so    

weak and vacillating that perhaps it    
would have been just as well had she    
gone on her dainty way4  ,again there   
are people who shut themselves in an    
armour of selfishness1 impervious alike 
to gaunt poverty and hollow-eyed sorrow4
 ,from the crown of their heads to the  
soles of their feet is their world1 they
 can neither see nor hear beyond it4    
,the good qualities of their neighbors  
are seen through the large end of a     
telescope1 appearing very small and a   
long way off1 while their own are       
magnified until they at last look upon  
themselves as being the personification 
of all that is good and holy1 and it is 
very amusing to study such a one1 to    
watch her manner of addressing others4  
,from the lofty pedestal of her own     
conceit1 she allows some poor mortal to 
approach her shrine1 but her manner     
says1 so far shalt thou come and no     
farther4 ,of what is she afraid8 ,has   
she fear of contamination8 ,is her      
goodness and purity of such a perishable

 nature that she fears pollution8 ,do   
not fear4 ,if you possess innate        
goodness and womanly qualities you can  
pass through dangers unharmed1 you can  
walk in the midst of sin and it will not
 touch you1 you can take the hand of    
vice and it will leave no stain4 ,from  
the height of your own purity do not    
look with scorn upon some less fortunate
 mortal1 do not turn away in disgust1   
but examine closely1 and underlying the 
outer crust of wickedness and sin1 you  
will be astonished at the amount of good
 you can find1 even in the most         
depraved4 ,the human heart is a strange 
compound1 made up of love and hate1 of  
joy and sorrow1 hope and despair1 and   
who is able to read it8 ,who is able to 
understand the sorrows1 struggles and   
temptations of others1 and who is       
competent to take upon himself the task 
of judging8  ,every beat of the heart   
gives us a glimpse1 either of heaven    
inspired love1 or hell-born hate1 of the
 sun-lit river of joy1 or the gloom of  

sorrow1 the golden gleam of hope or the 
stagnant pool of despair4 ,is it not    
strange that in all the workings of     
nature there is complete harmony2 the   
whispering trees1 the murmuring winds1  
the lowing herds1 all speak a language  
of their own1 while man is the only     
animal which makes war with his kind8   
,the love of riches1 the desire of gain1
 the pride of ambition takes possession 
of his mind to the exclusion of all     
else4 ,in battle1 soldiers walk over the
 dead bodies of friends and foes alike1 
unmoved1 the only thought1 the only     
desire is to win2 the groans of the     
dying are drowned in the exultant shouts
 of the living as they find themselves  
victorious4 ,in the battle of life there
 are many who1 in their desire to win at
 all hazards1 walk over the bodies of   
fallen enemies1 and heed not the groans 
of even their friends4 ,in all this     
worry and strife1 all the weariness of  
body and brain1 how few stop to enquire 
of themselves the means they are taking 

to attain their aim4 ,some have taken a 
step higher by walking over the body of 
a brother who has fallen by the wayside1
 wearied and heart sore1 and if he      
succeeds in reaching the top-most rung  
of the ladder1 envious tongues and      
slanderous epithets will reach him      
there1 while if he falls he will carry  
with him the sneers and taunts of his   
fellow men4 ,in this vast universe there
 is room for all1 no need to jostle and 
crowd your neighbor4 ,if he succeeds1   
while you fail1 it will not better your 
condition to slander and vilify2 if he  
fails while you win you will never      
regret having offered the hand in good  
will and fellowship4 ,many a heart has  
been softened1 many a burden made       
lighter1 by a few kind1 cheerful words4 
,there are none so low1 none so         
degraded1 as to be beneath              
consideration4 ,to take the hand of the 
hardest criminal will not               
contaminate--vice is not contagious4    
99       99       99       99       99  

,joaquin ,miller says3       ,is it     
worth while that we jostle a brother1   
,bearing his load on the rough road of  
life8      ,is it worth while that we   
jeer at each other1        ,in blackness
 of heart that we war to the knife8     
,god pity us all in our pitiful strife4 
,god pity us all as we jostle each      
other1        ,god pardon us all for the
 triumph we feel1      ,when a fellow   
goes down 'neath his load on the        
heather1        ,pierced to the heart by
 words keener than steel        ,and    
mightier far for woe than for weal4     
,were it not well1 in his brief little  
journey1        ,on over the isthmus1   
down into the tide1      ,we give him a 
fish instead of a serpent1        ,ere  
folding the hands to be and abide       
,forever1 and aye1 in dust at his side8 
,look at the roses saluting each other2 
,look at the herds all in peace on the  
plain1      ,man1 and man only1 makes   
war on his brother        ,and laughs in
 his heart at his perils and pain1      

,shamed by the beasts that go down on   
the plain4       ,it is worth while that
 we battle to humble        ,some poor  
fellow down into the dust8      ,god    
pity us all6 ,time too soon will tumble 
,all of us together1 likes leaves in the
 gust1        ,humbled1 indeed1 down    
into the dust4  ,a woman was speaking   
who was dressed in soft white which     
clung to her slight form1 and gave one  
the idea of a statue2 a ,galatea without
 a soul4  ,fatalism had wound its slimy 
folds about her and she was unable to   
free herself from its chilling embrace4 
,there is an old ,german legend which   
runs thus1 ,vineta was an old fortified 
place by the sea and the capital of an  
ancient nation4 ,her dominion extended  
over the neighboring coasts and over the
 waves where she ruled supreme4         
,unparallelled in splendor and          
greatness1 countless treasures flowed in
 to her from other lands1 but pride     
presumption and the sins of her         
inhabitants brought down the            

chastisement of ,heaven upon her and she
 sank1 swallowed up by the waves4 ,the  
sailors still affirm that the fortress  
of ,vineta lies uninjured at the bottom 
of the sea4 ,they say that deep down in 
the water1 they catch a glimpse of      
towers and cupolas1 hear the bells ring1
 and at enchanted hours1 the whole fairy
 city rises out of the depths and shows 
itself to a favored few4 ,the old legend
 tells us that the one who has once     
looked on the lost ,vineta1 has once    
heard the sounds of her bells1 is       
pursued all his life by a longing which 
bears him no rest until the enchanted   
city rises before him once more--or     
draws him down below unto the depths4   
,the unfortunate person who has once    
gazed upon the ghastly ruins of         
,fatalism1 knows no peace1 but like the 
legend of ,vineta1 it will drag him down
 to misery and destruction4  ,the lady  
was saying3  ,we are but clay in the    
hands of the potter4 ,nothing we do can 
change the current of our lives4 ,the   

hand of ,fate is over all1 leading us   
on1 whether it be for good or for ill4  
,from the cradle to the grave1 from     
birth to death1 there is a power ruling 
our destinies4 ,in infancy our cradles  
are rocked by the invisible hand of     
fate1 in middle age we are driven by it1
 in old age we are led by the same hand4
 ,i see before me a vessel starting out 
under full sail4 ,the sky is clear2 the 
air soft and balmy1 and everything      
speaks of a favorable voyage1 but when  
in mid-ocean1 the sky grows dark1 the   
wind arises1 the waves roll higher and  
higher2 soon the vessel gets beyond     
control1 and the sailors find themselves
 drifting towards the breakers4 ,efforts
 are redoubled1 all that human energy   
can do is done1 but of no avail4 ,fate  
is beckoning them onward to their doom4 
,we see a boy starting out in life full 
of youthful hopes and buoyant in health1
 happiness and strength4 ,he sees in his
 mind's eye a thousand chances of       
success4 ,life is before him and there  

is one haven he must reach before his   
ambition is gratified4 ,about midway in 
his career he stops4 ,clouds gather and 
he finds he has been driven from his    
course by adverse winds and             
tides--struggle as he may his efforts   
are futile for fate has intervened4 ,the
 hand of destiny has led him1 perhaps to
 misery1 perchance to happiness1 but    
which-ever it proves to be1 he finds    
there is a hand1 shaping1 ruling1       
guiding1 and that is the hand of ,fate4