The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1858-12-30

orphan children, like Miss Bremer's Evelina-
or devote herself to the wounded like Miss
Nightingale-toth the sick, like Miss Blackwell
to the insane, like Miss Dix-or to the wicked,
like Mrs. Fry or Sarah Martin-or strike out,
like them, some new path for herself, suited to
her individual self. Perhaps she will become
such a mistress, as she herself could not find
on her entrance into life, to other unoccuped
and unsatisfed girls. What she will do, can
not tell, nor will she ask me. By this time, she
knows herself; and in whatever course she
takes, she probably has at least thirty years of
vigorous activity before her, all the more eff
cient for the ten waiting years of preparation
which have preceded.
" Looking back over a past crowded with
honorable achievement, and deeds of love and
wisdom, three hundred and sixty five in year,
at the very lowest computation, she is hardly
very wretched. | do not say that she is leading
so happy life as | wish her, or so happy life
as hope such women will be able to lead
century or two hence, when society has become
accustomed to them, and found out Just what
they are good for; but is it not beautiful and
blessed life, compared with that which she aras
Leading and likely to lead ?"
Yes, indeed!"
whether following out my suggestions
would lead to such life, l can only conjecture.
They are the suggestions of only young and
inexperienced man. But | should like to have
the experiment tried"
by me, Hermann"
eyes, my dearest love-if you find yourself
idle, disconnected, and ennayee.' Seriously,
no. Physicians don't try experiments on the
members of their own iamlies-unless they
are tired of Them"
You have not tried it upon Clara, then "
| Herman laughed heartily 81 wish you
would ask Edward that question, when am
by to see. He always regarded her as his pc
cular property, don't you recollect? Besides,
| do not think Clara in any respect, fit sub
ject She was never ennuyee in her life. 1t
never in her life, imagine, occurred to her that
she could do anything great; she is contented
with being beautiful and good. Perhaps she could
do more good if she were more enterprising; but
no. will not say or even think anything SO I'M
gracious and ungrateful. / doubt whether she
has in her the material for a Miss Dix or Mrs.
Fry. She is never idle now; and L do not be-
lieve that hard labor of any kind was what God
planned her for she has none of the restless
eagerness which commonly accompanies a
great capacity for it. Domestic life is her
paradise; and she is an angel in it. She does
her good and appropriate service in this fever
ish, dark, Iunquiet world, while she shines
through and over it with her aspect of sweet,
/
made and wanted here, for different uses.
like you each best as you are. There is room
for and need of all the Claras and all the Con-
stances. More s the pity that there is only one
of each"
g wish had tried your plan three years
ago, if you would have liked it."
You were very young at that time to lay
out one for yourself"
Eyes, | should not have dared but as | was
going to tell you, the Sisters lives made con
vert of my heart and then | said to the Bishop,
make me like them, and | can ask no better.
He taught me-he tried to teach me-to be
gentle towards others, severe towards myself;
to look upon my heart not as that of some mere
irresponsible heroine of fiction, but as God
should look upon it at the last day; to repent of
my pride instead of priding myself upon it ; to
seek out, acknowledge, and cure my faults, in
stead of eXcusing them to struggle with my in
dolence, and to mortify my selfshness. | took
"a private vow-tor, by the regulations Of the
order, years must pass before one can formally
land fully be admitted to it. / Joined the Sis
tiers, did as they did, and as they bade me and
among them | have toiled year"
A happy year, my dearest?
Herman, do not ask But | will tell A
year of sackcloth and ashes it has been to me
because | was not worthy. L went to them,
hoping to get out of the world of which l was
| so weary but, because | was so worldly, the
world followed and went in with me- even there.
My life was more monotnnous and less exciting
than had expected; partly because | had,
suppose, expected too much, and partly because
took too little interest in duty for its sake.
All the pampered tastes, which had lost their
appetite in me from overlooking, regained it
from fasting, and hungered and thirsted for
poetry, music; painting, conversation and all
that gives beauty and grace to worldly life Toll,
hardship, and contact with real life, sobered my
mind and moderated my demands and | often
wondered how | could ever have been in such
hurry to leave Aunt Cora. While the Sisters
said that was learning efficiency, energy, and
skill in tending the sick-(they employed me
chiefly in that, because they said their patients
liked my slow movements and quiet ways but
that was too silent and grave to be with chill
dren. DO you find me silent and grave, Her
man? all that time, was painfully and sadly
learning deeper and sadder lessons which they
knew not oi-lessons that humbled me to the
DUST In contrast with their single hearted,
eager set-devotion, my own worldliness, my own
selhshness stared me in the face day by day.
! could bear the days, however, better; for then
We were busy, and ! had lille time TO think
but when night came, and We sat doWn 10 pest,
with nothing more nteresting-tO me-than
the prescribed life of saint to read, and they
read and heard it, and were eontented and
thankful, then most of all saw and felt that
was utterly unlike them-that l was a hypo-
critic among them, and had no right to be
there-that had snatched the crown, of which
| was not worthy, before it was held out to me,
and SRly because it shone. Ii scorched me,
therefore, and c0uta uat hear it did not
know how could bear it long-nor YET now
could ever bear to acknowledge my error, self
coneeit, and presumption"
| 4fon hare learned humility, Constance /
will not hattes yoa ~ ct i, | fear we are all
more given to think of our own glory lnan ti.s
glory of God. But did it not occur to you that
a part of your uneasiness might come from the
4 fact taat He had ordained you to serve Him in
part as an intellectual Nomanj and that you
were unnecessarily starving your INTELLECT"
"To tell the whole truth, though put it on
no grounds higher than those of my longing
and suffering for a little literary food more
ieupting to me- j did complain Of that to the
coniessor had wnees then was. in hopes he
would grant me "a dispensation. got oniy a
penance from him, and an assurance that it was
| & temptation of Satan /; but he was foreigner
| fromLfrom ireiA.l, lGd not highly-educated
have been more lenient.N
| Sand you thought it your duty, Constance
said Herman, viii 6 strong internal emphasis
upon the "youp "to obey such person as
| tiiatf"
aCertainly. | vas bound to do it. Don't
you know what is said in the Combat Spiritu-
al ?'+-oh, forgot; you have not read it yet 1t
is better to obey the lowest le de'nier of men
foF the l9ye of God, than to command kings and
princes"
| Herman shnddered within himself as he