The Girl Wanted Part 7

I would rather be right than president!"

At first thought those words seem to be the declaration of an unusually upright and conscientious person. But let us study them a little more deeply and closely.

The desire to do right and to deserve the approbation of all good people is very strong in every human breast. Not until a man has lost his moral sense of values would he trade his integrity and self-respect for any other gift the world could offer. This being true, who among us would care to be president if in order to occupy that exalted position he must be obviously in the wrong?

Thus we see that after all is said and done, the one great prize for which we all aspire is the love and good will of our friends and of the world. For no matter how much of wealth and fame may come to us, without the love and respect of our fellow beings we must ever remain poor and friendless.

He is the richest who deserves the most friends. Wealth is a matter of the heart and not of the pocket. A thousand slaves piling up wealth for their master cannot make him rich. It is not that which others do for us that makes us possessors of great wealth, but that which we do for others. All true riches are self made. Only when the hand and the heart are put into one's work does it yield a lasting worth. In the final true a.n.a.lysis the picture forever belongs to the painter who paints it; the poem to the poet who writes it; the loaf of bread to the toiler who earns it. Wealth may acquire these things but it cannot own them.

Therefore the true value of character is something that each must achieve for himself. It cannot be bought; it cannot be bequeathed to us; it must be earned by each individual who would possess it. Hence it is that these great riches may be acquired by all who desire to possess them.

Where are they to be found? Right here.

When may we obtain them? Right now.

Do you care to learn the only way in which you can come into possession of them? "Whoever you are--wise or foolish, rich or poor,"

says Rebecca Harding Davis, "G.o.d sent you into His world, as He sent every other human being, to help the men and women in it, to make them happier and better. If you do not do that, no matter what your powers may be, you are mere lumber, a worthless bit of world's furniture. A Stradivarius, if it hangs dusty and dumb upon the wall, is not of as much real value as a kitchen poker which is used."

So we learn that it is the fine practical spirit, content and willing to do the humble things which are possible of achievement that is doing most to lift the world to a higher and better plane. "Have you never met humble men and women," asks Gannett, "who read little, who knew little, yet who had a certain fascination as of fineness lurking about them? Know them, and you are likely to find them persons who have put so much thought and honesty and conscientious trying into their common work--it may be sweeping rooms, or planing boards, or painting walls--have put their ideals so long, so constantly, so lovingly into that common work of theirs, that finally these qualities have come to permeate not their work only, but so much of their being, that they are fine-fibred within, even if on the outside the rough bark clings."

If we are wisely introspective, we must reach the conclusion that humble though we may be, we are after all, a component part of the great expression of being, and that we are well worth while. Then if we are worth while, it follows that all we do is worth while, for each of us is, in the end, the sum of all the things he has done. Once we have this idea that everything stands for something more than the mere thing itself--that it is correlated in its influences with all the other things that we and all others are doing, we shall invest all our tasks, little and big, with more of purpose and importance. Emerson says:

"There is no end to the sufficiency of character. It can afford to wait; it can do without what it calls success; it cannot but succeed.

To a well-principled man existence is victory. He defends himself against failure in his main design by making every inch of the road to it pleasant. There is no trifle and no obscurity to him: he feels the immensity of the chain whose last link he holds in his hand, and is led by it."

Perhaps no other every-day virtue counts for so much in the general welfare of the world as the adapting of one's self to, and the making the most of, one's immediate surroundings. It is in the hundreds of little, unrecorded deeds of kindness and goodness that we lay the foundations of character. And because these humble lives, that mean so much to the other humble lives with which they come into touch, are never specifically named and shouted by the mult.i.tudinous tongues of type, that many fail to see in them the elements of true and n.o.ble achievement with which they are crowned. "The most inspiring tales,"

it has been truly said, "are those that have not been written; the most heroic deeds are those that have not been told; the world's greatest successes have been won in the quiet of men's hearts, the n.o.blest heroes are the countless thousands who have struggled and triumphed, rising on stepping-stones of their dead selves to higher things."

Since it is these humbler every-day virtues that one is called upon oftenest to exercise, or to neglect, it is apparent that the one who possesses the most of them and who cultivates them the most earnestly has the greatest number of opportunities of winning the admiration of others. It is of a girl possessing this fine adaptability to the world's workaday surroundings that "Amber" draws this pen-picture: "Shall I tell the kind of girl that I especially adore? Well, first of all, let us take the working girl. She is not a 'lady' in the acceptance of the term as it is employed by many members of this latter day's hybrid democracy. She is just a blithe, cheery, sweet-tempered young woman. She may have a father rich enough to support her at home, but for all that she is a working girl. She is never idle.

She is studying or sewing or helping about the home part of the day.

She is romping or playing or swinging out of doors the other part. She is never frowsy or untidy or lazy. She is never rude or slangy or bold. And yet she is always full of fun and ready for frolic. She does not depend upon a servant to do what she can do for herself. She is considerate toward all who serve her. She is reverent to the old and thoughtful of the feeble. She never criticises when criticism can wound, and she is ready with a helpful, loving word for every one.

Sometimes she has no father, or her parents are too poor to support her. Then she goes out and earns her living by whatever her hands find to do. She clerks in a store, or she counts out change at a cashier's desk, or she teaches school, or she clicks a typewriter, or rather a telegrapher's key, but always and everywhere she is modest and willing and sweet.

"She has too much dignity to be imposed upon, or put to open affront, but she has humility also, and purity that differs from prudishness as a dove in the air differs from a stuffed bird in a showcase. She is quick to apologize when she knows she is in the wrong, yet no young queen ever carried a higher head than she can upon justifiable occasions. She is not always imagining herself looked down upon because she is poor. She knows full well that out of her own heart and mouth proceed the only witnesses that can absolve or condemn her. If she is quick to be courteous, unselfish, gentle and retiring in speech and manner in public places, she is true gold, even though her dress be faded and her hat a little out of style. You cannot mistake any such girl any more than you can mistake the sunshine that follows the rain or the lark that springs from the hawthorne hedge. All things that are blooming and sweet attend her! The earth is better for her pa.s.sing through it and heaven will be fairer for her habitation therein."

How fortunate it is for us who would practice these little every-day virtues that we do not have to wait for some noted person at some remote time to tell the world that we are striving in our own humble way to be kind and thoughtful. There is some one within the sound of our voice and within the reach of our hand who will be glad to testify to our goodness.

Kindness is never shown in vain.

The gift blesses the giver, even though the one receiving the gift is ungrateful. Consciously or unconsciously we exert an influence upon all who come within the zone of our being. Surely those who know us best ought to be the ones to appreciate us the most intelligently. If we are lovable, will they not love us? If we love them, will it not serve to make them lovable? Let us not keep the nice little attentions and the carefully selected words for the stranger and the pa.s.ser-by, but have as much regard for the ones of our own intimate family circle. We should be happy to do most for them who do most for us. One of our students of human happiness says to us: "Get into the way of idealizing what you have; let the picturesqueness of your own imagination play round the village where you do live, instead of the one where you wish to live; weave a romance round the brother you have got, instead of round the Prince Perfect of a husband whom you have not got." And Marcus Aurelius says: "Think not so much of what thou hast not, as of what thou hast; but of the things which thou hast, select the best, and then reflect how eagerly they would have been sought if thou had'st them not."

Culture, itself, is but a composite expression of our simple, every-day virtues. It must be measured by its outward manifestation of regard for the pleasure, happiness and advancement of others. Literary culture will open up the windows of the soul that the light of virtue from within may shine forth and dispel the darkness of vice with which it comes in contact. "Unless one's knowledge of good books--his literary scholarship--has so taken hold upon him as to make him exemplary, in a large measure, he cannot be said to be cultured," says one of our students of higher ethics. "His learning should cultivate a choice and beautiful address, a cheerful and loving countenance, a magnificent and spirited carriage, a refinement of manner, an agreeable presence."

The extent to which we may feel a sense of peaceful satisfaction at the end of a day, depends upon how we have lived that day. We soon learn that the day means most for us in which we do most for others.

If we have lived for self alone, it has been

A LOST DAY

Count that day truly worse than lost You might have made divine, Through which you sprinkled bits of frost But never a speck of shine.

"At the end of life," says Hugh Black, "we shall not be asked how much pleasure we had in it, but how much service we gave in it; not how full it was of success, but how full it was of sacrifice; not how happy we were, but how helpful we were; not how ambition was gratified, but how love was served. Life is judged by love; and love is known by her fruits."

The every-day virtues include very many fine little traits that serve unconsciously to make our paths smoother, our skies bluer and all of life more glad and golden. They const.i.tute a habit of doing the right thing at all times and so quietly and unostentatiously that no one is made to feel any sense of obligation. One who possesses these virtues does not wait for stated times and occasions to bestow evidences of love and good will upon others, but like a flower in bloom spreads the fine perfume of friendship upon all who come within the charmed presence. Intuitively and unconsciously does the owner of these virtues follow the precept set forth by the philosopher: "I shall pa.s.s through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now.

Let me not defer it or neglect it, for I shall not pa.s.s this way again." And in expressing the same sentiment Amiel says: "Do not wait to be just or pitiful or demonstrative towards those we love until they or we are struck down by illness or threatened with death. Life is short, and we have never too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who are traveling the dark journey with us. Oh! be swift to love, make haste to be kind!" We should not wait till some sad experience has taught us the rare privilege we may now own of offering

A ROSE TO THE LIVING

A rose to the living is more Than sumptuous wreaths to the dead; In filling love's infinite store; A rose to the living is more, If graciously given before The hungering spirit is fled,-- A rose to the living is more Than sumptuous wreaths to the dead.

Of all the homely virtues there is none more to be commended and desired than patience. This priceless quality of mind puts its possessor into friendly relations with whatever the surrounding conditions may chance to be. There is no irritation, no clash of interests, no lack of organization for performing to the best of one's ability the duties of the moment, as they present themselves for consideration. Nothing is so conducive to success as to be able, calmly and patiently, to do to the best of one's ability the tasks that present themselves. "Success in life," says one of our students of the world's problems, "depends far more upon the decision of character than upon the possession of what is called genius. The man who is perpetually hesitating as to which of two things he will do, will do neither." On the other hand the man who hastily and impatiently disposes of the problems that confront him also impairs his chances for making the best of life.

Have you ever experienced the sorry realization of how one petulant or peevish member of a household can destroy the happiness of a breakfast or dinner hour? What would otherwise have been a pleasant coming together of kindly congenial spirits is made painful and unprofitable because some one lacked the patience and forbearance to withstand and to surmount some little trial or irritation that should have been promptly dismissed from the mind and the heart, or better still, which never should have been permitted to enter. As has been truly observed, membership in the family involves the recognition that the normal life of the individual is to be found only in a perfect union with other members; in regard for their rights; in deference to their wishes; and in devotion to that common interest in which each member shares. Each member must live for the sake of the whole family. "Children owe to their parents obedience, and such service as they are able to render,"

says Dr. DeWitt Hyde. "Parents, on the other hand, owe to children support, training, and an education sufficient to give them a fair start in life. Brothers and sisters owe to each other mutual helpfulness and protection."

The patient disposition to do the best one can, this day, this hour, this very moment, counts for much in the building of a life. How perfectly is its whole purpose set forth in Channing's "Symphony," in which he so beautifully makes known his heart's desire: "To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury; and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages, with open heart; to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never. In a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common. This is to be my symphony."

It is this rare sense of poise, this patient regard for our own happiness and that of others, that enables some sweet spirits to come as a balm for all the bruises that a busy world can put upon us.

"There is no joy but calm." Until one has learned to do his work pleasantly and agreeably he has not mastered the most important part of his lesson. "Blessed is the man who finds joy in his work." He will succeed where the complaining, discontented person will be almost sure to fail. So, let us cultivate this one of the chiefest of our every-day virtues. It will enable us to give to every moment the proper regard for its value and of the possibilities it offers for achievement. It will teach us that during every day, every hour, every moment, there is time for politeness, for kindness, for gentleness, for the display of strength and tenderness and high purpose, and for the exercise of that degree of patience that does so much to make life big and broad and beautiful in

THIS BUSY WORLD

It is a very busy world in which we mortals meet, There are so many weary hands, so many tired feet; So many, many tasks are born with every morning's sun.

And though we labor with a will the work seems never done.

And yet for every moment's task there comes a moment's time: The burden and the strength to bear are like a perfect rhyme.

The heart makes strong the honest hand, the will seeks out the way, Nor must we do to-morrow's work, nor yesterday's, to-day.

We scale the mountain's rugged side, not at one mighty leap, But step by step and breath by breath we climb the lofty steep.

Each simple duty comes alone our willing strength to try; One little moment at a time and so the days go by.

With strength to lift and heart to hope, we strive from sun to sun, A little here, a little there, and all our tasks are done; There's time to toil and time to sing and time for us to play, Nor must we do to-morrow's work, nor yesterday's, to-day.

[Ill.u.s.tration: From a Photograph, Copyright, 1902, by J. E. Purdy, Boston JULIA WARD HOWE]

[Transcriber's Note: Sidenote quotations from the preceeding chapter are gathered in this section.]

Each, whatever his estate, in his own unconscious breast bears the talisman of fate.--John Townsend Trowbridge.

When a man has not a good reason for doing a thing, he has one good reason for letting it alone.--Thomas Scott.

Once a body laughs he cannot be angry more.--James M. Barrie.

Success is usually the result of a sharpened sense of what is wanted.

--Frank Moore Colby.

He that falls in love with himself, will have no rivals.--Benjamin Franklin.

A sinful heart makes a feeble hand.--Walter Scott.