The age-herald., 1901-04-21
THE MURMUR OF THE WORLD.

Our doubts are traitors
 And make us lose the good we oft might win,
 By fearing to attempt: Go to lorh An- gelo, And let him learn to know, when maid ems sue,
 Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel
 All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would owe them.
 Call this a rhapsody, and this rhapsody shall tell you truth
 Often too late, every one of us many times has discovered the treachery of our doubts, my beloved. As was said of old, he who dallies is a dastard! he who doubts is damned. Unworthy of friendship. faith, or love, are those spirits who quiver in the pain of their own doubting of their own be- loved
 Your own is yours. and I am yours, and all," is a cry that tho best of us need to hearken if we be worthy of the con- fiding faith of those we love.
 Doubt never yet won love or friendship in this world, and doubt never can, for doubt Is an insult to loyalty and an out rage upon innocence. Othello's doubt was a lie and so have been the doubts of great multitude since the wild in- sanity of jealousy drove him to the wilder insanity of assination. er
 Yet more humane was Othello in the slaughter of innocence than is many a man of our time In harboring the accurs- ed error of suspicion, or many a woman who hugs to her throbbing heart the dead body of monstrous disloyalty
 It is a common wrong of most of us that we suspect our lovers and our friends, those who have given unto us in words or deeds or long and tried attach ment and devotion, the pledges of their loyalty.
 It might have been kiss, a spoken the pressure of hand that faltered not yet some careless speech, some unhailed response to our own bouyant greeting. is suffered to lead us to tread the wine press of human wrath and resentment bitterly and in blackness.
 Thus supinely we harbor in our souls the damnablest error that we may con- ceive or cherish-that doubt of our be- loved which darkens our lives and dooms us to melancholy and to sin! Rather should we voice the imperishable cry: Doubt thou the stars art fire; Doubt the
 sun doth move;
 Doubt truth to be liar; But never doubt
 love-"
 Friendship, love. and truth: if we doubt these, then are we unworthy of the high fai xx,ifI itc lation!
 Too often we lose the good we might win by fearing to attempt my beloved.
 Nothing joyous but life comes to us unsought. We must attempt everything strive for everything needed to fill the measure of our longing and our happiness in the world.
 Love does not throw itself into our arms; friendship does not hide around corners to grasp us in it's embrace as we pass by; honors and riches do not hang In the trees to drop upon us as we loiter in shady and song-haunted ways; good name and fame are not pursuing us in our idleness and unpreparedness, hurry ing to catch us unawares and force upon us the crown of the high calling of hu- man endeavor!
 It is written that whatsoever we de- sire we shall strive for whether it be the love of woman, most divine of all, or the friendshipSof man, or greatness or power, gold or gldry; or the faith and trust of little child, holiest gift that is held for the deserving ones of this world
 It is not true of human affairs and con cerns that if you ask you shall receive, however true 1t be in the cold philoso- phy of materialism that we may obtain nothing that we ask not for
 We must labor for the things needed to fill the measures of our desires, our hap- piness; strive for the place of worthfness and desert before. we ask for the things that are needful or demanded.
 We must make the attempt. Failing that we lose the good we desire and which we might win as our own for our selves and for our happiness!
 When maidens sue. men give like gods"'
 Maidens no longer weep and kneel in presenting their petitions. If they peti- ton at all, they ask regally, make known their wishes as superior beings to men. It is repeated here, as has been said over and over before, the supreme truth that, the poorest of good women Is better, i'm measureably better, than the best of good men!
 There is one good woman. a mother