Their work becomes the better for their love,
And still their love the sweeter for their work.
The following sketches of exalted sisterhood are gleanings only, and are offered as examples not heroic, but for the most part capable of emulation. Probably many other instances, kindred in character, will occur to those who may read these pages. We remember from the remote past the tragic story of Antigone, a maiden of heroic devotion, not only as daughter but sister. How, following her father in his sightless-age, she ministered to him until the end. And when, after the battle in which she had the anguish of seeing her brothers fighting against each other to the death, each falling by the hand which should have been the first to protect, the sister's heart yearned over the one left unburied. The victorious army had removed for decent burial those who had fallen on their side, but a tyrant king had forbidden, on pain of death, the burial of Polynices. But Antigone had a love which overcame all fear. Memories of mutual affection in days of innocence thronged her thought, and steeled her heart to defiance of the cruel law. Undeterred by the thought of how uncertain it was whether she could find her brother on the vast field, or that she would probably be discovered, and herself fall a victim to the passions of war; drawn by her mighty love, she dared alone the unknown and midnight horrors of the place of carnage, in the hope of hiding the loved body from the beasts of prey. After much search she came upon the dear object of her daring, and made in the ground a little space to serve her end. We should have liked to read that love so devoted met with its proper recompense. But, alas! Antigone was discovered and ordered to be confined in a subterranean cavern; when, no longer desiring to live, she died by her own hand.
An affecting incident of more recent days is recorded of Mdlle. Gattey, the sister of a book-seller who had been arrested during the French Revolution. The devoted sister determined to share the fate of her brother, whatever it might be. She was present on the occasion of his trial, apparently an indifferent spectator. When she heard the sentence of death pronounced against him, eager to become his companion to the scaffold, she shouted aloud: "Vive le Roi!" She was, of course, immediately taken, and, though not allowed to die with her brother, as her loving heart longed, she willingly shared his fate on the following day.
We need not, however, look into the past, nor so much at the fields of history as that of our own memories. Even the examples selected for our study have not been, for the most part, in the world's sense heroines, but rather sweet household women, doing the work which God placed nearest to them. They are not, therefore, any the less noble examplars; rather more. The common nature of humanity is not of heroic mould, nor are everyday needs such as demand its display. The restoration and salvation, the continual well-being and upraising of humanity depend not upon the extraordinary so much as upon the continuous exercise of those qualities which are our common heritage. In the army of helpers the best results are not attained by great endeavours so much as by the humble ministries which wait for the willing hands and kind hearts.
It may be that reading these pages the shadow of a cloud may flit over the thoughtful face of some sister, who, with a glowing feeling of affection, thinks with regret on what may appear to be a narrow sphere. If so, let it be remembered that lives are no less noble for being less known. Happily in many walks of life—lowlier in the fact that their events are unrecorded—beat hearts as warm, and in more limited spheres live deeds as noble and shine influences as pure and strong as those which, through the brighter light of exalted position or conspicuous circumstance, have added to the world's best wealth.
"SIDNEY'S SISTER."
"They had been taught religion—thence
Their gentler spirits suck'd sweet innocence:
Each morn and even they were taught to pray