Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1881-05-20
Only Bright Woman with
Touch of Genius

Only a bright woman with a touch o.
genius
So runs q fragment of letter written
by . good man to Q woman who had
asked him for work. He further told
her that he was engaged in the unprom.
ising labor Of trying to develop certain
sectarian literature. but she was neither
priest nor Levite-" only Q bright WON.
an with . touch of genius and he
could offer her no encouraging pros
pect.
The question naturally uppermost is
What shall this woman do? She is one
Of . numerous class whose cries smite
our ears and hearts at the birth and
death of every hour. OF what value
to her are power, capacity, will. equip
ment. genius, when opportunity is de-
MED her?
The lamp of Genius, though by Nature lit,
II not protected, pruned and fed with care,
Soon dies or runs to waste with ftful glare"
II were not certain that this young
woman's environment bears close re-
semblance to that OF many thousands
Of her sex should be much disincliped
to violate private feeling by any allusion
to 1t; but abe represents in her own
experience the difficulties OF a problem
the solution Of which is of far reaching
concern.
Here il woman of tender rearing
whom certain not unusual calamities
OF life have deprived Of those material
supports upon which she was always
taught to lean, thrust inexorably forth
into the world to learn the costly lesson
Of woman's self-reliance-to Aearn it
unaided-and to put her native forces
in training when she il heavily handi-
capped by previous disuse of them.
II Ia not question Of ambition, of So
called great achievement, with her; but
the dire, imperious question of living.
Who will encourage her? Whittier
shall she turn? In what mill may she
grind her gEist Of genius2 She does
mot ask aims, albeit she suffers the
blood-sapping pangs Of poverty. She
has power, but NO means of applying
it; the will to work, but no work on
which to expeud her willingness; cour-
age, but no rock of opportunity where
on 10 plant her feet. Hero is the ap.
palling struggle of the human being
who il sinking. sinking in the merciless
quicksand-sucked down to death
perishing almost within reach of
hundred hands stretched out, alas! too
late. Her death il murder. Who is
the murderer? / do not know.
The besuteous Cspulet foresaw her
doom in the tragic dispensation of her
only love sprung from her only hate.
PeIhsps too-tender love murdered this
k~~~ - -
with touch of genius" Il is possible
that had che been loved as wisely as
tenderly she had not been flung into
the quicksand to die like q rat in hole.
Babes have sometimes been smotbered
by too many blankets. when the bracing
outer air wss what they needed most,
could . wiser love have known it.
To be too tenderly reared is to be
robbed of self-sustaining power. And
that, suspect, is true bill Of indict-
ment against most persons on whom is
laid the high and solemn office of &C.
countability for woman's worldly veal.
/ will not stop here to discuss the &C.
cusation under which society has
WINGED 40 many times) that girls are
trained for no future beyond their we'd
ding day; that their habit of thought is
directed to that one object, making girl
hood q mere period of impatient pro-
baton, and marriage the extinguish-
ment of any glimmerings of RESPONSE
bility they may have caught while frisk-
ing. lamb like, in the parental fold.
This is deplorable enough, but to
deplore it is not to remedy it. Just
now it better becomes us to ask our
selves what shall be done to succor
those who are walking blindly into the
devouring sands, even as the woman
with touch of genius walked, with no
Voice to call her back, no wise and guid-
ing love to set her feet upon the solid
earth. am not sure that human wis
dom is penetrating enough to find the
solution CT this involved problem, SO
far as it relates TO those women who
have suddenly been called to face the
darker issues CT life alone. | speak
now with more particular reference to
such as have come to womanhood
handled in the arms of fond, mistaken
love--love that sees nothing beyond
the present soft and erervaiing luxury
of its object. Take away their shelter
ing shield and the frst November
breath will topple them over. n.ere
HELPLESS heapS Ibey moan with the.