THE EVIL OF IDLENESS.
“But I don’t think it matters much what a girl does so long as she is active, and doesn’t allow herself to stagnate. There’s nothing, to my mind, so pathetic as a girl who thinks she can’t do anything, and is of no use to the world. Why, it’s no wonder there are so many suicides every day!”
She is consulted by her agents in regard to all her affairs. “I have no time for society,” she said, “and indeed I do not care for it at all. It is very well for those who like it,” she added, for she is a tolerant critic.
Her life at Tarrytown is an ideal one. She runs down to the city at frequent intervals, to attend to business affairs, for she manages all her own property; but she lives at Lyndhurst. She entertains but few visitors, and in turn visits but seldom.
I will not attempt to specify the numerous projects of charity that have been given life and vigor by Miss Gould. I know her gifts in recent years have passed the million-dollar mark.
Would you have an idea of her personality?
If so, think of a good young woman in your own town, who loves her parents and her home; who is devoted to the church; who thinks of the poor on Thanksgiving Day and Christmas; whose face is bright and manner unaffected; whose dress is elegant in its simplicity; who takes an interest in all things, from politics to religion; whom children love and day-laborers greet by fervently lifting the hat; and who, if she were graduated from a home seminary or college, would receive a bouquet from every boy in town. If you can think of such a young woman, and nearly every community has one, (and ninety-nine times out of a hundred she is poor,) you have a fair idea of the impression made on a plain man from a country town in Indiana by Miss Gould.
Helen Miller Gould is just at the threshold of her beautiful career. What a promise is there in her life and work for the coming century!
She has given much of her fortune for the Hall of Fame on the campus of the New York University, overlooking the Harlem River. It contains tablets for the names of fifty distinguished Americans, and proud will be the descendants of those whose names are inscribed thereon.
The human heart is the tablet upon which Miss Gould has inscribed her name and her “Hall of Fame” is as broad and high as the Republic itself.
XLIII
A Self-made Merchant Solves the Problem of Practical Philanthropy
LATE one afternoon, I stopped to converse with a policeman in Central Park. Another policeman came up. Nathan Strauss was mentioned. “Well, I tell you,” said the first policeman, stamping his foot, “there is a man!
“Charities! He’s the only man in New York City who gives real charities. Why, when others want to give, they go to him, and have him do it for them. He knows what’s what. I tell you, he’s the most respected man in New York City;” and the other said, “That’s right.”
Go on the east side, and ask about Nathan Strauss, and you will hear what is as pleasant as it is rare,—the poor giving a rich man unstinted praise. But do not speak to Mr. Strauss about his work as charity; he dislikes to have it called by that name.