Sermons in stones, and good in everything.’
“There are times when life grown burdensome hangs like a leaden weight upon our necks; we would get away from ourselves, and it is necessary to use all our power to crush the wish that we had never been born; then if we can go into the fields or woods, and, throwing ourselves upon the ground, rest our heads on the loving earth, how soon we find relief. The quiet breeze is like a friendly hand upon our brows; the voice of the brook, the song of birds, and hum of insects are like balm upon a wound; we are children in our mothers’ arms, and the grand old trees are our brothers and sisters. Whatever human friends may leave or disappoint us, we have always sweet sympathizers in the flowers, trees, brooks, rocks, grass, and everything which springs to life in the fields or woods, on the mountains or in the valleys.
“A sympathy with our fellow-beings is higher than that with nature, because more active and requiring forbearance. ‘Put yourself in his place’ has a world of meaning. We should strive that ours may be the finger which shall touch the secret spring in our neighbor’s heart, which shall unlock the good lying dormant there for want of help to bring it out. Strive to realize their griefs and temptations. If we could for one short hour put ourselves in the place of some one whom we now condemn with so much bitterness; if we could see how circumstances have wrapped their fatal web around him, how much the fatal tendency to do evil is the terrible legacy of his parents, how often would harsh judgment lie low in the dust, and loving mercy cover with her shielding mantle? If we could throw off this crust of ice, with which so many of us seem to have encased ourselves, how much more good we could do? Now, we stand apart; then, joined together, each helping the other, we would fulfill the purpose of our being.
“Sympathy with God! Is it blasphemous for weak mortals to think of such a thing? No! The loving Father alone is acquainted with us, and is therefore the only thorough sympathizer we have. ‘He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust.’ We commence to be in harmony with God just as soon as by cultivating sympathy for man, we become fellow-workers with Him.”
March 2, 1877.
GIRLS.
“Girls are queer creatures, but we cannot help liking them. Under all the silliness and vanity there is a vein of gold in everyone which is undoubtedly genuine,—it comes to the surface sometimes, but is often so deeply imbedded in nonsense that a superficial observer would not have the slightest suspicion of its existence. Part of this want of sense is natural, but a great deal of it is acquired in a negative way. The majority of girls have very little object in life, and cannot see the use of accumulating material which they never expect to use; to be sure they all intend to be married some time, but, judging from the specimens of male suitors, they see that which requires but very little effort and less sense. So, when papa and mamma, after a great deal of consultation, decide upon a good school their daughter goes there, but she could hardly tell you why. If she has no positive love for study, her chief end and aim, while in school, will be to shuffle off the lessons for the day with the utmost dispatch, and ‘there’s an end.’ When school days are over, she expects to have nothing more to do with the subjects there considered, excepting a little reading, writing, spelling, and arithmetic. She is to enter society, which to hundreds means spending the days with a little house-work, making a good many calls, and doing some shopping. The evenings are devoted to dancing or talking with vapid-brained young men, who never had an idea in their lives, and consider it an insult if a lady ventures one. Or worse than this, perhaps they must talk with young men whom they know have sense, but will not condescend to use it in their presence.
“After a while the girl is expected to marry one of these individuals. They do very well for a partner in a cotillion, but how about life? Let us see what she has to say about it, talking to a confidential friend: ‘Oh, yes, it is decided that Mr. B. and I are to be made one. I can’t say I love him devotedly, and really think him decidedly stupid sometimes; but I suppose it is all for the best, for you see I cannot do a single thing, and if papa should be taken away or lose his health, having nothing to depend upon but his salary now, what would become of us then? As it is, Mr. B. is rich, and I can give a nice, comfortable home to both mamma and papa at any time after we are married.’
“What silly and romantic ideas we had about marriage when we went to school? How soon they vanish in real life! Here we have to take the best we can get and be thankful for it. We believe the above to be a fair sample of hundreds of the marriages made at the present day. The man wants a housekeeper, the woman a home. Each gets what he or she bargained for, and so much more that it is not strange the daily papers are full of accounts of divorce suits. Let the girls, as well as the boys, be educated to do something whereby they can make an honorable living, and we believe a great deal of unhappiness will be prevented. It seems to us but justice to allow women to do ‘whatsoever their hands find to do with their might,’ whether it be dressmaking, cooking, washing and ironing, or practicing law and medicine. It also seems no more than right that she should have a voice in the affairs of the country under whose laws she lives and educates her children.
“The sterner sex need have no fears that when woman has the ballot she will usurp their privilege of smoking, swearing, wearing the hair short, fighting at the polls, and other such delicacies; neither will she monopolize the stump at election times, and harangue the people, calling everyone who disagrees with her names that decent people would blush to address to a dog. Some people pretend to fear that when women vote they will have no time for domestic affairs, and that the institution of home itself will be destroyed. Heart-rending pictures are drawn of pater familias, seated by the deserted hearth-stone, vainly endeavoring to quiet a weeping infant, while its mother has gone to the ‘pollsys, wollsys.’ As the old woman said: ‘We feel for that man, but we can’t find him’; neither can we find the mother who would intrust her infant to such doubtful care. From the fuss made about the time taken from domestic duties one would think it took a week to put a small slip of paper into a medium-sized box. Why, we have known of men who could put in half a dozen in less than half that time, and no one suspects women to be less clever than men.