Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1905-01-26


perfume Of these stray corners where
simple goodness flowers.
A lady, a foreigner, doubtless little
used to Partisan life just now told me
with what horror the things she sees
here inspire her these vile posters,
these yellow" Journals, these women
with bleached hair, this crowd rushing
to the races, to dance halls, to roulette
tables, to corruption-the whole flood
OF superficial and mundane life. She
did not speak the word Babylon, but
doubtless it was out of pity for one of
the Inhabitants of this city of per.
dition.
ALAS, yes, madam: these things are
sad, but you have not seen ALL
Heaven preserve me from thatr'
ION the contrary, / wish you could
see everything. for, II the dark side
is very ugly, there Is so much to
atone for 1t. And, believe me, madam,
you have simply to change your quar-
ter or observe 1t at another hour For
instance, take the Paris Of early morn
Ing. 1t will offer much to correct
your impressions of the Paris of the
night. Go see, among so many other
working people. the street sweepers,
who come out at the hour when the
Jewelers. and malefactors go in. OBJ
serve beneath these rags those cary
atid bodies, those austere faces, How
serious they are at their work Of
sweeping away the refuse OF the
nights reveiry. One might liken
them to the prophets at Ahasuerus'
gates. There are women among them,
many old people. When the air Is cold
they stop to blow their fingers and then
go at it again. So 1t il every day. And
they, too, are Inhabitants Of Paris.
Go next to the faubourgs, to the
Factories. especially the smaller ones,
where the children or the employers
labor with the men. Watch the army
of workers marching to their tasks.
How ready and willing these young
girls seem as they come gayly down
from their distant quarters to the
shops and stores and offices Of the
city! Then visit the homes from which
they come. See the woman Of the
people at her work, Her husbands
wages are modest. their dwelling Is
tamped, the children are many, the
hther Is often harsh. Make q collec-
lion of the biographies Of lowly peo-
pie, budgets Of modest family life;
loook at them attentively and long.
after that go see the students. Those
who have scandalized you in the streets
are numerous, but those who labor
hard are legion. only they stay at
home and arc not talked about. If
you knew the toll and dig Of the Latin
quarter! You find the papers full of
the rumpus made by certain set of
youths who call themselves students,
The papers say enough of those who
break windows, but why do they make
no mention OF those who spend their
nights totling over problems? Because
it wouldn't interest the public. Yes,
when now and then one of them, a
medical student perhaps, dies a victim
to professional duty the matter has
two lines in the dailies, A drunken
brawl gets half a column, with every
detail elaborated. Nothing Is lacking
hut the portraits of the heroes, and not
always that.
~ should never end were / to try
to point out to you all that you must
60 to see If you would see all, You
would needs make the tour of society
at large, rich and poor. wise and ig-
norant. And certainly you would not
Judge 50 severely then. Paris is a
world. and here, as In the world in
general, the good hides away while the
evil flaunts itself. Observing only the
surface, you sometimes ask how there
can possibly be - much rtffraff. When,
on the contrary, You look into the
depths you are astonished that in this
toublous, obscure and sometimes
frightful life there can be so much
virtue"
But why linger over these things?
Am l not blowing tFumpets for those
who hold trumpet blowing In horror?
ps NOT understand me So My aim is
this: To make men think about un-
ostentatious goodness-above oil. to
make them love II and practice 1t.
The man who finds his satisfaction in
things which glitter and hold his eyes
Is lost. first, because he will thus see
evil before all else, then because he
gets accustomed to the sight of only
such good as seeks for notice. and there
fore easily succumba to the temptation
to live himself for appearances. Not
only must one be resigned TO obscurity;
he must love 1t II he does not wish to
slip insensibly into the ranks OF fgu-
rants, who preserve their parts only
while under tho eyes Of the spectators
and put off In the wings the restraints
imposed on the stage.
Here we are in the presence of one
of the essential elements of the moral
life. And this which we say is true
not only for those who are called hum
BILE and whose lot 1t Is to pass unre-
marked; it is just as true, and more
so. for the chief actors. If you would
not be n brilliant inutility, a man of
gold lace and plumes, but empty inside,
you must play the star role In the sim
ple spirit Of the most obscure OF your
collaborators. He who is nothing worth
except on hours of parade is worth less
than nothing. Have we the perilous
honor of being always In view, OF
marching in the front ranks? Let US
take so much the greater care OF the
sanctuary of silent good within US; let
us give to the structure whose facade
Is seen Of our fellow men wide foun-
dation of simplicity, of humble fidel-
ity. and then, out of sympathy, out OF
gratitude, let us stay near our broth
ers who are unknown to fame. We
owe everything to them, do we notf
call to witness every one who has
found In life this encouraging expert
ence-that stones hidden in the soil hold
I'D the whole edifice. All those who
arrive at having a public and recog
nized value owe 1t to some humble
spiritual ancestors, to some forgotten
inspirers. A small number of the good,
among them simple women, peasants,
vanquished heroes, parents as modest
as they are revered, personlfy for us
beautiful and noble living; their exam
pie inspires US and gives us strength.
The remembrance OF them Is forever
inseparable from that conscience be
fore which we arraign ourselves. In
our hours Of trial we think of them.
courageous and serene, and our Dur
dens tighten. In clouds they compass
us about, these witnesses Invisible and
beloved who keep us from stumbling
and our feet from falling In the battle.