Girls and Women

f their own immediate circle. It seems to me that the most beautiful charity is always that which is done within one's own circle. There is the personal giving, t

pretense or self-consciousness. She helps her neighbor, and so on. There need be no break in the chain from lowest to highest. Mrs. Whitney has taught beautiful lessons of this kind in her stories, emphasizing the theory of "nexts." I have often thought this was the only kind of charity which did not injure the giver; for the moment we try to help those perceptibly below us we are apt to be condescending and to feel a se

It is done from a sincere wish to do the best thing-very likely in many cases simply to ease the importunate New England conscience, yet also, no doub

le. Some one tells of a woman who spent all her time in going about among the poor giving practical help, but who really cared so little about those she helped that every day on her return from her roun

that I really think they might be trusted to do something on a large scale. One of them might even oversee an orphan asylum; yet I do not think she could be such a blessing to little children as is a woman I know who is the matron of such an institution, for this wom

even then there is danger they may be so lifted up by a sense of their own goodness that perhaps it would be better for them personally to spend the money

re willing to sit down and let all the innocent suffer with the guilty. And many of the leaders have the ideal spirit, and they hold up ideal standards for the visitors of the poor, that is, they ask us to visit the poor with love in our hearts. The work to be done in cities is so enormous that every woman of leisure who feels the desir

es a tithe as much for the poor she is likely to get some thanks, more or less sincere, and all her circle of friends admire her. This pleasant encouragement does her no harm as long as she has the antidote of the family criticism, so I would let every ardent woman have some outside work, and the

n work have time to visit the poor, their suggestions are of infinitely more value than any given by rich ladies who

ain to be what is called a "friendly visitor." I have no question about her friendliness, and the poor will bless her sweet face, especially when she gives them money freely, as she can easily do, but I should not expect her to be able to give them very useful advice about spending money-which they need still more.

th her own hands. It is possible for beauty to condescend without wounding. A woman who is not outwardly attractive must do a different kind of work. The first brings a poetic element into a dr

rely on what they are. I can only say that there is so much work to be done that each must do all she can; that she must choose the thing she can do best and persevere with that quietly, not trying to do many kinds

ily to destitution, one neighbor sends a breakfast to them, another flannel for the baby, another finds work for the oldest girl, and another pays the boys a trifle for bringing wood and water. The cases of actual destitution are so few that they ca

for a refining influence for the whole village, for she usually opens it to those of her neighbors who can appreciate it,

nd so with books. One owns a copy of Plato, another of Dante, another of Goethe, and these books circulate freely among all who care to read them. They are better than a

ee club and sing one evening a week in her parlor. They all have musical talent, and they are capable of appreciating her attractive manners, but they had not before thought of any better way of spending their evenings than in screaming about the streets. If a poor girl has a good voice, this young lady

treasures they may have. Perhaps the same is true in the city; but the number of treasures to be shared, as well as the number of people to share them, is so bewild

et us cling to

e, 't is love that mak

e city we may