Weekly Trinity journal., 1873-03-22
NEVER AN ENCOURAGING WORD.

word to u.s." said servant of Mr.. Towne.
"You may try your life out 20 please
him, and he never speakes an encouag-
ing word. 1t is life under the harrow
there, and I've left"
His children cannot leave home. He
has two boys. They are sometimes at
work in the garden, pulling up weeds,
cutting the grass, making martin-houses
and windmills. They put no heart in
their work +; it is dull and spiritlcss. They
are forever haunted with a furtive fear.
Try as they may, and try they do, their
father never encourages them. Nothing
but dismal drizzle of fault-fnding falls
from his lips. A sound scolding, a genu-
inc cutting when they deserve it-and
children know they deserve it sometimes
like thunderstorme, purifes the air
and makes everything the brighter. Then
the clouds clear away, and the glad
dest sunshine follows. That is not Mr..
Towne's way. He is never thunder
and lightning and over with it, not he /;
but a perpetual drizzle, dark, damp,
murky. Nothing pleases, nothing suits
him. Putting his eye on his boy is a
mark of ill-tavor. Every child breads
his gaze, shuns it, is i'll at ease, awkward,
squirming, until it wrigges out of the
way and is gone. There are no glad
voices in his presence; no outspoken,
frank utterances only hesitation, in con-
sequence self contradiction for fear al
ways beclouds the brightest mind and
the simplest heart.
"There is no use telling it before ia
ther," the boys say, in bringing home a
bit of news or tale of adventure.
But, worst of all, "There is no use in
trying" as they often say. And the dis
heartenment will presently merge into
Indifference, possibly into something more
active. They will run away. Evil
"speaks pleasantly" at last, and many
young person has turned from homo and
sought other companions for no other
reason. The heart, with all its warm
impulses, and with them its sense of short
coming and incompletencss, needs en-
largemcnt-must have it in order to grow
strong.
"Not one encouraging word from IA
ther !" Poor boys ! Bridget can leave,
they can't.
Nor can his wife leave. Poor woman
She is brave woman, too. What n
hopeful smile she often wears. 1t is be-
cause she will bear up; and smile she
must, an answering smile to the love of
friends, the courtesy of society, the beau-
ty of flower and grass, and the slant sun
shine through the trees. But there is no
joy within. Home is n joyless spot for
her most careful houscwifery there is new
er an encouraging word for the taste
with which she tries TO mako her home
attractive there is never an encouraging
word. To her love, her devotion, her
sweet solicitude to please, there is never
an encouraging word. The glance of
her husbands eye only takes in what
happens to offend the word of his mouth
expresses what he finds, and those are
faults, spots, something forgotten or over
looked. She breads him, she shrinks
from him; there is no freedom or sunshine
in his presence. Perhaps in her yearn-
ing woman's heart she has longed for his
return, forgetting and forgiving in his alb
sence the small tyranny OF his exacting
spirit; but the thrill of his coming is soon
deadened-" no encouraging words;" and
she silently slips out Of sight, TO swallow
her disappointment and her heart break
ing alone.
There is sense of misery in the house
which no stranger can detect perhaps
this is too positively expressed it is rath-
er an absence OF joy; everything sponta-
neous, and cheerful and glad held in
check. A minor tone runs through the
family life, depressing to every one. The
prints of an iron hand are on every
heart.
"Never n word to encourage I" slipped
unawares from her lips one day. 1t does
not seem much but who that has felt il
does not know that it is the secret of
many joyless childhood, many bro
ken spirit.