The Jersey City news. (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1889-1906, 1898-07-02

sisting that she lost far more than She
gained by such a step, says Dorothy Mad
dox, in the philadelphia Inquirer"
Such sentiments from masculine lips
are unusual l rather like championship
of this sort. 1t is remarkable because OF
its utter lack of egotism. / am well aware
the many women would consider such
consideration impeItinent interference, as
if indeed their rights were being tamper
ed with.
So many of us esteem it a blessed priv
i1ege to give UP all for dear loves sake,
and after the sacrifice is made we spend
the remainder of our days narrowing our
souls because of our disappointrnents.
/ said to this man: w are many
times sadly misunderstood The sacrifice
of self is not the cause of our discomfort.
Women are naturally unselfish creatures.
They rather glory in sacriticial offerings,
but they do ask in return that some
slight regard be paid to their illusions.
They ask that one or two be allowed to
live. 1t is the killed-out illusions that
breed trouble. Only thing a damsel just
skipping out of he teens was worldly
wise enough to tell me the other day
that her illusions were too precious tc
trust them in the keeping Of any mar
living.
Ny listener bristled with indignation,
illusions, indeed. When a woman
marries does he suppose a man has moth
ing better to do than loll round and
coddle illusions? He has to be up and
hustling for bread and butter
I just looked at that masculine for q
moment and then I laughed in her face
Isn't it odd that nearly every man OF
them trots out the same hackneyed ex-
cuse when cornered with matrimonial
commonplaces?
That Observation-Disclosures business isn't
worth a balyrag as an argument. !
would dearly love to know how much
more hustling could go on after marriage
than takes place when an adorer is try
ing to cajole some woman into marrying
him.
Lovers are proverbial for their hustling
They work day and night to scrape to-
gether enough to indulge in loves young
dream, or old dream or any kind of q
dream. And while the pinching proce,
is on, while the grand M for dol
lars and cents is taking place the man
who a-wooing goes is toting flowers and
bon-bons to the woman he wishes tc
marry. putting out his money on the
atre tickets. theatre suppers. drives and
goodness knows what beside for her
pleasure.
/ would like to find any brisker hus.
ling than goes on at this stage of the
game. And, strange asst seems, nobody
appears upset by it. 1t is only after sthe
knot is tied that this hustle act Gre
ates friction.
With the first complaint of a lack OF
lover-like attentions out comes the time
worn apology. The wife's faculties be-
ing in fair condition. she is not to be
hoodwinked by the Observation-Disclosures wall
but what can she do? Grin and bear
the situation, of course. And can she
be blamed if she wonders over the sud-
den flight of that ~soulfulness that capti-
waited her before marriage?
Soulful lovers are as PLENTIFUL as black
berries in season; soulful husbands are as
rare as black pearls. Robert Browning
was a soulful husband. AS a writer puts
it, .his courtshiD was but the prelude
to the exquisite love story Of married
life,
nj the married women who read
these lines will draw deep signs of &c
static pleasure as they dwell upon the
bliss that comes from so perfect a union.
Our ideals are many. If those cherish
ed by the wife were given a fraction OF
the consideration allowed them when the
property of the girl sweetheart we might
in all justice be condemned if we dared
| chantment of matrimony.
"Once in a great while we measure
literary characters. by living people, bat
constantly we measure the living against
the ideal,'' writes Florence Hull Winter
burn of the companionship of books in an
article entitled 'sOur Nearest and Dear
est in the July Woman's home Com
panion.
sAnd the ideal becoms real, and the
real seems remote and insignificant when,
as often happens. our most passionate
wishes are realized in the friend between
bookcovers, more vital III his sympathy
with our secret self han the person WHO
walks beside us day by day, keeping step
with our gait, but out of all understanding
of the rhythmical movement of our spirit.
/" It is almost impossible for two per-
| sons to have a perfect comprehension OF
one another. for there is a plot in every
heart fenced about and marked "unex-
plored." We fear to know ourselves per-
fectly, lest we should find something 70
fear and shun and yet be forced to re-
veal it. But a spirit of yearning dwells
in this secret region and its cry is like
that Of a lost child. seeking to make it
self Known. How joyful. then the start
with which we find in the ideal world OF
literature-where feeling walks in open
| day, unabashed-lineaments that declared
kindship with the dearest hope of our
heart. This is the compensation for a
poor, barren, worldly experience,
Even cooler minds are susceptible to
the influence of the literary companions
they select; more susceptible than they
are to the guidance of their companions
by the hearth or in the exchange markets
We put up our guards when wA walk
abroad, nor are they wholly down when
we are in converse with the friend of
our bosom. But to open a beloved book
is to throw ourselves into a current that
shall carry US whittier 1t will. In reading
we relax, become supple and simple, and
so we are educated and developed.
GAS our nearest and dearest. we must
| and shall become ourselves. This is as
sure as that the food we eat determines
ia n great degree the character and