Birmingham age-herald., 1894-08-05
MUSINGS WITHOUT METHOD.
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"Woman's Inf1uence!" Potent phrase, so oft repeated, what is thy scope? Shall we begin at the beginning and go on as it was and ever shall be world without end2 Amenl Instantly a ghost of familiar exam pies rush into your mind, eh, reader? Why you can trot them out by the dozenl Madame de Maintenon was the inspiration of Fenelon, Mere Angelique, the mother confessor of the lofty Saint Cyran; Aspasia, the guilty, but devoted comforter of Peri cles; Heloise, the priestess of Abelard's soul; the Countess Matilda, the insepara- ble companion of Hildebrand; Vittoria, the guardian angel of the great Angelo; the Duchess de Longueville, the intellect ual guide of Cardinal de Retz; Hannah Moore, the warmest friend of the British Lautocrat, pr. Johnson; Mrs. UnWin, the beacon light of Cowper; Paula, the holy friend of Jeromei An, yes, you are rightl And woman as heroinel Memory delivers up well stored lessons of Telseilla, the poetess, who saved Argos by her courage; Of Volumnia, screening Rome from the vengeance of her enraged son; of Servillia, sacrificing her jewels in order 10 secure her father's liberty; of Sulpica, who fled from bands exile; of Jean D'Arc, enduring her nlartyrdom at the stake! These are as easy to trill off as nursery roundelay.
 Woman, it seems to ple, shines best be- hind the stronghold of man, whose noble deeds found their source in her loyal faith and encouragement. And yet they are not satisfied to read their names beneath the names of Napoleon, Washington and Lamartine; they want their light for them- selves and intend to have it. When they get it will they be content?
 The lurid heat of noontide plunged head long into the cool basin of evening; the quiet shadows began to gather in the for ests and in the valleys. Peace was over all things. On the brow of distant noun and sought the bosom of the throbbing earth. Sweet as the dews of Mount Her mon the bright drops fell on the sun tcorched bluffs. Struggling up from the heat of the valley gained the calm sum- init and waited. For what l know not. grim visitant death! All my life long had waited the coming Of this one bright spirit, whose entrance speeds eternal bliss. Through haze of beaten silver the vision foated near me. looked, and then looked again.
 All was mystic confusion. I saw star, pale and breathless floating idly through the flm--and thls was fame! 1t scared upward, ever upward. Another passed by, and this was love. It was of deeper hue than blushing primroses. From out the weird cloud curtains golden chain was flung, which, falling round the stars. bound them together at my feet. "Choose!' a voice hundred from above. l stopped, touched the cold, glittering crown of fame and smiled. But low above ihe dewy brow O: love, and strangely thrilled, paused. "Choosel'' the ssolemn voice repeated. Again l gazed, wavering and silent. :What are your gifts?'' cried aloud. Fame threw back her sparks and said, 'Gloryl" pure, tenderer ligh?n murmured. ''Happiness, D she sighed. ''Choosel" the third time the dread voice commanded. The tempter pleaded well ,and my ambition scared up from the impulse to the tongue. "Famel'' l exclaimed passion ately. The word echoed through the valley. raised my eyes. They both had fled. 1 knelt and prayed, but darkne descended.
 The choice was mine, oh, never more!