Year: 1875

They were all unsuccessful, as the
word goes. Neither in their lives nor
deaths, in their marriages or in their
business, were they generally fortunate
or happy. They had not inherited that
Yankee elasticity which RECEIVERS in
stantly from every strain and misfortune.
Whenever they entered upon struggle
they surrendered beforehand by expect
ing defeat, and thus they grew painful
ly familiar with the word "fail." One
son promised to be an exception to this
rule. A hardworking and honorable
lawyer, he gathered together in early
life a practice of which most veteran
lawyers would have been proud, and
made a new fortune as soon as he lost
the old in unfortunate investments.
But his brothers and sisters never en-
joyed in their homes even a glimpse of
his transient prosperity, The other son,
a modest Methodist clergyman, had no
clearer idea of prosperity than distant
perspective could give him. Privation
of luxuries had been SO long his lot that
he ceased to think of them as attainable.
He even suffered privation of things nee
essary almost to life itself, and knew
what hunger and thirst and heat and
cold were, as few men know them. His
income never exceeded that of a pert
and "smart" boy in New York bank
ing house, though he was one of the
best scholars his college - through
which he worked his way-ever sent
out, and his mind was stored richly
with knowledge which he never dis
played to dazzle the simple people about
him.


The sum total of the earnings of his
lifetime a shrewd stock broker would
make and lose five times day. He
never wrote any books or received any
degrees; he did not live where there was
a newspaper to report his sermons, and
it is safe to say they were never adver-
tised in advance. His life was plodding
and painful one, full of care and anxiety,
unbroken by any pleasure save that
which he drew from the love of his wife
and children, and uncheered by the
society of any but dull villagers. The
eldest of the sisters married young and
foolishly. But of the story of the labors,
the trials, the heartbreaks and sufferings
of the woman who learns too late that
the treasure of her heart has been poured
out in vain, who shall write? Tie long
years of hope that are without hope; the
constant struggles which are foreordained
to defeat; the slow and reluctant transfer
of love and watchfulness from drunken
husband to needless and thoughtless
children; the constant outpouring of
affection where there is no return; the
work of the worn fingers, stitching under
the midnight lamp; the hunger for edu
cation and for bread for her children that
denies her either-these are to be read
in more than one white and weary face
you whirl carelessly past in the street.
The other sister was the happiest of all,
for she had no history. The kind fates
sent her quiet and obscurity. AS a
scboolteacher, she lived sheltered life,
save when one or two great storms broke
over the barriers of her retreat. She
never did anything remarkable or
achieved even in her limited sphere any
thing more than the half success that
seemed to be the family Characteristic.


They are all dead now, and the earth
that so seldom seemed to have resting
place for them lies green and peaceful
above their dust. They were gone, and
their places were filed, as one wave fol-
lows another; they were gone, and there
was no more trace of them than of the
lines in the sand the wave washes away.
They left no fortunes behind them, or
fractions of fortunes; nor any fame
their very names were known only to a
few score people. They had not even
the happiness of quiet decline. The
lawyer lost his mind and his fortune at
one blow, and died uncontrolled by q
heartless wife and no less heartless chill
dren. The clergyman suffered in the
body the equal of all his former distress
of mind, and passed away as poor as he
had come. The sisters lived out their
lives in the patient way of women to the
very end.


Failures Wrecks2 MOI The min
lister was carried to his little church on
the bleak hillside by loving parishioners
whose hobnailed boots crunched with q
coarse, unfeeling sound the frozen yel-
low mud beneath their feet. Thechurch
where he had labored was filed with
mourners, for every child in the neigh
borhood was in grief, and the very win
ter winds that moaned about the build
ing seemed an echo of their mourning.
No Spurgeon or Beecher could be more
lamented. If his memory dies it will
not be because it was unworthy to live.
His brother was followed by all the
lamentations of those whose helper he
had been when he was able to help 9th
ers. His charity was original and even
whimsical; it sought out people who
were not reached by the charitable ma
chimes, with their long titles and many
officers -profane little newsboys, broken
down men, and struggling sewing
women. The two sisters lived in the
hearts of all the children who knew
them, and in the memories of all those
who had learnedto recognize their silent