The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-06-17


were as they might be. 1t is worth con-
sidering. Go into any street. Look at the
first half dozen faces you meet and con-
trast what is with what is possible. Then
let your imagination try to comprehend
the stupendous folly of the content Of men
and women who day by day bow under
load Of remedial evil Think of the cark-
ing care, the toll for leave to live, and the
numbing and pinching of life for so many.
And yet. close at hand, there waits life
full, rich and free, which is the right OF
all. This is no heroic impossibility, no uni
versal incomprehensibility, but the very
essence of Christianity.
Begin at the beginning and consider the
matter carefully. Dwell for few mo-
ments on a picture too often true to life.
Here is a home. First and foremost in it
the wife-the woman of all others in this
vast world the young husband promised
to love and cherish till death should them
part Does that husband know that after
he leaves for the city in the morning his
wife sits down and weeps with broken
heart? He took her from the care of
home where love was supreme. That home
made her the woman who attracted him
and whom he once loved. The influences
which surrounded her then are incarnate
in her. Yet though he once felt her pres
ence necessary to his happiness. now she
is alone. He is no husband to her because
he does not cherish her. He seems to have
wholly forgotten that she is a woman
with all woman's refinement, gentleness
and sacrednesS. He comes home irritable
and vents his spleen upon her. All her
orb nd Thought
for nothing in the light of his indifference,
even harsh displeasure. Try as she may,
1t is of no avail to win from him one word
of love. And as he goes TO business sne
weeps for the love which she once knew
but which never comes more Yet he has
taken upon himself the care OF her whole
life! Let him remember, too, that tnat
life does not end when the bright eyes
have closed forever, and the faithful heart
ceased to throb. Let him remember that
his attitude affects her eternal life.
And now let him also remember the words
| of love and kindness which, in later years.
on all too rare occasions, he has spoken
| to her-even as he used to speak them in
the springtime of their walk together-re-
member the bound she gave when he spoke
them, and then consider the perpetual
peace which is in his reach, both for him.
| self and that sweet woman. If he would
only think Of living his life as he was made
| to do. instead of wasting II.
REMEMBER THE CHILDREN.
There are the children. Do they come
bounding to him when they hear the creak
of the gate as he opens it? Not bit of it.
There is a scamper to hide what they are
doing, and that look on their faces when
| he sees them would make man who had
not lost his soul cry out: "My God, why
hast Thou forsaken me?' For there is
nothing more awful in life than for a
parent to see there is gulf between him
and his child.
| Oh, you who have taken upon yourself
| the awful responsibility of bringing chill
dren into the world, have you forgotten
| the soul in them which was born not of
your will, but of God's-but for which you
are responsible as for their bodies? If so,
| 1T is certain that as those children grow up
you will be the last person they will con-
| suit in their difficulties; and the day may
| come when they will curse you because you
let them drift away from you when they
should have been held by the tender cords
of parental love.
No man in this world can do better bit
| of social, even religious work than to bind
| his children to him and to God with the
omnipotent bands of love. For take the
children out of the world and there would
| not be many difficulties left Let each
parent begin that process to-day (and it
| embraces the whole realm of life) and the
next generation or two will have no social
| problems to deal with. Then their whole
| energies can be spent on the attainment of
| edge, capacity, character.
Again, there are the servants in some
households. Why are their faces so
solemn, why do their limbs drag in every
| piece of work they do? 1t is because the
master of the house has knocked their
| individuality out of them--made them feel
that they are not their own, but bought
| with a wage That will darken the atmos-
phere of any house In it is the tragedy
| and anguish of the servants life. Beings
| of the same flesh and blood, life is made
Il s,.x..n Cafl.fI % hon
WORK IN THE CITY.
| Now we will go to the city with such a
man. AS look around upon his staff of
| helpers / am depressed. do not like to see
| young men with faces like that They are
| old before their time. Their life seems
| weighted. I understand in word that he
| DULLES them; that is what it comes to in
| the final analysis-he is bully. And he
| has no right to be. Whatever their faults
and failings they are as much entitled to
| courteous treatment as the President of
our nation. He treats them as children
| as incompetents-as suspicious characters;
and they soon become incompetent-per-
| haps dishonest-because their employer
l does not leave them room for initiative. He
| keeps them long hours. so that weary with
worry they are unfit to do anything else
| but rest when the day is over. Besides, he
| pays them poorly, and what with WEAKNESS
and worry and lack of money they are
| made to feel contemplate, as indeed their
| life is. Live. How can they live? Who
| can live without time for contemplation,
/ for enjoyment for improvement-without
! a sight of the green fresh air? The wheels
of this mans business are weighted with
4 the lead of hopelessness.
| The business men have the solution of
/ the social question largely-not altogether,
but largely-in their own hands There is
| no body of men who could do as much
| for the well-being of the world they. /
especially say that to young men who feel
| their business does not afford fit scope
/ for practical usefulness. As a matter of
| fact no sphere is so great and so full
/ of opportunities.
| I have said nothing about leisure. The
| unhappy man we have been picturing has
none. Bed and business divide his life His
| absence of leisure is evident in his city
| at every step, and stamps its life. Instead
| of taking his share in the city government
| he leaves 1t to the unprincipled-men with
| out imaginatin. He does not even in his
| city carry out the principles on which he
| conducts his own business, though there
| is room for Improvement even there. The
result is that his city is unhealthy, badly
/ arranged, extravaganza in cost; but, above
/ all. the powers of evil feel that the air
is congenial and nameless infamy is the
result What are wanted in our city and
| xrrffh q