The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 24, 1904, Page 6

THE SA N FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. @» THE -GENTLE -ART-OF ‘FCOLI} 12y~ HIBILIER] MIATRIERS (Author off “Comist thns theRye “tue,) T3, X\ T take it T sical sense, Tequires sons ung, slim. long- )f heels and s, fligh ing does not rson; it the hu this is hor- can be set out to of ory and ou w in a bag some out of s nin at, with- Y se, most partic- T o temp would vou They this precious to its source, of heart or is it wa acked i its making. . 1 their rowing overbc acquisitiveness— Be the bogie Brave. man fear who ex- es in us that joy of living i the very essence, the raison of our presence here, fear of future, fear of the past, fear of death, fear of losing what we love, what we have amassed, though since we know early the conditions or which we hoid ex nce—that we are rches lit only to be sooner or lat- shed—wh fear? Death us meet it with of what we love t00. is in the bond raust more or less to the strength of is not the strength > feebleness of our often gives us the m) do things tha the fu- to do we fail we shall fear makes c n—ve come- cent digni st come human ording we v. loss wm Being often our hu desires t tory us the past—bu concly If the thera t real brains 1ese may calam health i oftener v the fear of condition of nd will t be repiz to be hat than not tate nght @ very € is ¥ racial when thei nd if we also re- meeting 3 of our them, wz ysical 4 ge enemies zre near, evitable ad moments ting Be Judiciously Forgetful. houses contain numbers s things, so do we s to become re- sagreeable, tedious, un- ughte, regrets and desires fro like . vapish into mist. t ourselves to enjoy moment by ment, the much that life has to offer, facing « misfortunes ith equ courage, forgetting wouid we not ad rmously to our own, and othe happi- ness? How fev to say, 1 am happy,” vet the 1 s are purely artificial that prev our being so, and when we realize this, when we climb up, and look « the pa that man I sed to fence us off from God and his works, we ingrates, indeed, if we do not take cf the feast so bountifully set before 1 All nature rejoices in its own way, and at proper seasons; all but man, who, even when neither hunger, thirst, nor sickness threaten him, looks about for trouble, and stores it in his mind as a bee, with more wisdom, stores honey in the hive. ¢ He is always expeciing something to go wrong, he completely misses the moment of enjoyment in fearing, or ex- pecting it wiil be snatched from him— surely if, as a recent brilllant writer suggested, a =chool for happiness should be founded, a school for cheer- with point out to us our blessings and occasions for rejoicing, instead of reviling. By com- paring what we might have been with even more nece: hat we are, physically, mentally,, commercially; by counting up the misfortunes we have just missed; the occasions when luck or circumstance has saved us from ruin of one kind or another; by forcing ourselves to meas- ure our paltry grievances with those (X*31% s of the really afflicted and heart-broken, how many of us would not then sit down to reflect soberly on our advan- tages, feeling ashamed of our perpet- 12l grumblings? Be Active. Over much reading, especially of society papers with their idle tattle of rich folks' doings, is responsible for a good deal of mind-vaporing, especially among women, whose minds are con- fused by a variety of matters not in the least essential to their comfort or happiness. But let them fix their at- tention rather on the ants of those beneath than the extravagance of those above them in the social scale, and they will end by hugging them- selves rather on what they have than desiring what would probably make them no happler than that does which they ffow possess. s It may be taken for granted that those having great possessions cannot fool light-heartedly, for even as the soldier with the lightest knapsack steps out quickest, so are the rich weighed down to earth by the gold taken out of'it, or rather the over- whelming responsibilities attached to their ‘position. They may be the cause, and often are, of others’ light-heartedness, but sel- dom of their own; it is the moderates who inherit the earth, those who have known neither starvation nor a ple- thora of the good things of life, and is among them that we must look for the “merry” men and women who take the sunshine with them wherever they go, and who, whatever may be their faults, are loved accordingly. To turn alw a bright face to the world may at first be difficult. but how cuickly it becomes a habit, how great is the reward! To call the diseased mind out of its self-built dungeon; to blow like a clean wind through the dust and morbidity of the four-walled life lived by most unhappy humans; such is the mission of the cheerful, tha gay of heart, more glorious by far than to go about preaching and teach- ing, and though they may have their own wry moments (where the light is brightest the shadow is deepest). they are using up their “ounce of cheer- fulness” with which to serve God roy- ally. Do not we all more or less hypno- tize each other, impress our own moods on those near to us, elevating or depressing their spirits, and for- cing them to look through our own spectacles, rose-colored or blue, as the case may be? May not we even nar- row and vulgarize their mental vision, even as we have power to inspire them with that larger humanity which throws its weight into the scale of pity, not condemnation of its fellow man? Be Considerate. We can make them see the strong under-current of fun that runs through lie; the gleams of pathos and humor that illumine the most sordid and un- likely subjects; in a word, each one of us is a maker of sunshine, or a pro- ducer of gloom in himself and others, and loved or disliked according to which role he elects to play. To be “merry and wise” is not given to all, but to cultivate the bright side of things, to get a laugh out of un- promising material is open to every one, and it is astonishing how the habit of laughter, once indulged in, grows on us, tiil at last we come to recognize it ds one of the great sweeteners and pu- rifiers of life, while from a physical point of view its value is untold. The veriest grumbler and misanthrope alive might be improved by a laughter treatment, supplemented by plenty of fresh air, for in addition to brooding far too much over imaginary troubles, we are all too much indoors for our spiritual and bodily health. The gen- tle art of foollng does not permit stag- nation of men's mind, but rather makes it quick-moving, keen to ob- serve the humors of the crowd, of n ture, and lastly, of oneself, for not to be able to smile at our own peculiari- ties and foibles is to be entirely bereft of that sense of the ridiculous which encroaches so nearly on humor, and is so priceless a belonging to its posses. sor, keeping him armored against all the minor misfortunes and accidents of life. Be Appreciative. It is & good world, a beautiful werld, it is man himself who makes most of the trouble by indulging in purely fle- titious desires and sorrows. Turning his back on all the glories of the uni- verse, he fights tooth and nail for the one bit of colored glass™that has caught his fancy, only to discover its worth- lessness when seized; meanwhile he is blind to all most worth having in life, for are not his the sky, the earth, the sea, his also the parks, the treasures of picture galleries and museums, such as the richest men alive cannot bring to- gether? It might do some of us good if we deliberately set ourselves to count up the amount of pleasures we can take for nothing; it would not hurt us in- deed to be vainglorious, and strut about, vaunting the joys so freely provided for us; we might even in time come to patronize the multl-mii- lionaire who has not a tittle more right in a superb sunset, a gosy dawn, and the recrudescence of spring, than we have. If we come to measure our personal happiness with his, he might be the loser by the comparison, but any case it is a fine thing to stand up to wealth, not be cowed by it, to sa A man's man for a’ that—and d when we are able to do 3 r on the road to seren- ity of spirit that begets the desire to fitting oppor ys a Jjttle some anity 8 she can’t abide the mon,” said one old farmer to another, when bragging About his daughter’s married happi- ness, and while not unduly rejoicing over those whom the world envies, it may console poor folks to reflect that there is always “a little something’ discount the happi s of fortunate people, who, if we only knew it, deep- 1y envy us, the obscure and happy. They may have all the desire to fool that we have, feel impulses as eager to take life rather as a picnic than a solemn feast, but they cannot escape from their surroundings, or rather from the circumstances that make them famous or remarkable. Let us then more happy, learn to fool gently, fool wisely, and laugh while we fool, encouraging others to a like pursuit, only taking care that such fooling does not degenerate into sheer folly, or worse—but to the honest and pure of heart, to whom I especially address myself, the practice is more llkely te tend to their ennobling, than to their deterioration. ' SUBTLE INFLUENCE OF FATHER AND MOTHER UPO ACH parent should be consider- ate of the other, but the father is the husband or houseband. He is the head of the family. This is the teaching of the Bible, which is eccepted by all men and most weomen. It may be argued that in some families, because of pecul'ar temperaments, the mother is Dbetter fitted to be at the head than the father. The fact remains, however, she is the queen of the house, not the king. / Too many fathers consider that, since it is their duty to provide for the fam- ily, they have no dutles in connection with the training of children. A mo- ment's consideration will convince every thoughtful father that this is not the case and that, no‘matter what suc- cess he mey gain in his business or protession, he is a complete failure if he has not proven himself a true hus- band and an inferested and devoted father. At every point it is the father's duty to stand ready to co-operate with the mother in her attempts to train the children. This duty becomes even more imperative as the child grows older and approaches the time of going out into the world. If the father does not take interest the training of the children it will be exceedingly hard for the mother, and they will not generally be trained as they should be; for there are many things which can be learned only from the father. While the home is the mother’s world, the father is the con- necting link between the world and the home. Each has a part to perform, the performance of which is necessary for the best results. When they do not do so, the training will be as discord- ant as the song of two singers whose vojces are mot in harmony. One great trouble is that many men, and not a few women, who are consid- rate of others all day, have little con- sideration for those in their own homes. T have a pleasant word and smile for every one until they reach home, which should be the most joyous place on earth—a Dlace for which each has reserved the most pleasant word and happiest smile. Every father should ‘ec. th. ~beolu sther unde: necessity of having the r stand that he is reacy, willing and anxious to give all possible assistance in the training of ch.ldren. Other things being equal, his help £ ould te in pro- portion to the amount of time he spends home. Some fathers are home so little that children hardly know whom to call “father,” and are led to ask as dic one little fellow, “Mamma, who is that man that whips us nearly every Saturday Mothers and fathers should Tecognize the wusolute necessity of co-operation in the training of children. Vital as it is elsewhere, it is even more important here. There must be no confiict of au- thority, for it is one of the most potent causes . f'failure in the management of children. It has caused the ruination of more children than almost any other mistake. When either corrects a child, how oftenl the other takes his part! Un- less there is marked injustice or bru- tality, that is not justifiable. It is the surest way of making a child rebellious against the authority of both. The sensible way would be to wait until they are alone and then discuss the matter in a reasonable way. Sou.e fathers object to having any- thing to do with the management of the children. They say th -» have many trials during the day which a mother cannot fully appreciate. Let this be granted. Is her sympathy rot ever ready? On the other hand, it must also be remembered that the mother has many ccres which the father cannot appreciate. If he would take her place for ome i.eek he would k- more about it, and, afterward, would have plenty of sympathy. Ske wo-ks at home, away from associates, which might make things seem to move eas- jer. How often, with aching head, the many difficulties must be met and con- quered. How many times have her quivering nerves been shattered and her strength taxed to the uttermost by the trying cares of home when every- thing seemed to go wrong. The young child may have been sick and trouble- some. The older ones may have almost SEVENTEENTH TALK TO PARENTS 7 BY WILLIAM J. SHEARER broken her heart by some real or im- agined terrible acts. There may be no servant, what is just as bad, she may have left or be about to leave. A hundred other troubles crowd fast upon each other. Should she not feel free to call for any assistance needed from the father? Such is the time for showing the floweérs of appreciation. On the part of too many there is a tendency to keep all sympathy and praise until it is too late. How many patient mothers would be surprised if they could see the flow- ers heaped upon their coffins and hear the words of praise from lips which, for years, had spoken scarcely a word of appreciation or sympathy! Truly, it is time that the father awaken to the fact that he has much to do. with the training of the children. Surely he owes to the home the best influences of his life. It should not be a board- ing-house where he gleeps and eats and pays the biils. It should be the center of his life. If only the mothers, these patient, long-suffering, representatives of the Almighty, could but faintly appreciate the grandeur of their office and their unboundless power and influence over the present and future lives of their children! It can scarcely be overesti- mated. Almost daily the writer has to appeal to the most troublesome boys and girls that are found among thou- sands. Many are just one step from the reform school or the jail. A considera- tion of such places has little or no ef- fect upon them. Harshness and threats make no im- pression. The most brutal punishments by parents have had no effect. The last pi it spoken to said: “I do not want to commit murder; I have done everything else—have even by chain and padlock confined him to his room, yet he is no better.” An appeal to the love for his: mother saved that boy. Such an appeal will generally reach the most stubborn cases. Even where it fails, it comes nearest to breaking the chain of habits which have bound them. The writer does not remember a single case where this appeal did not have great influence. With such or thoughts and experiences as these, he approaches the subject of the mother's influence in the training of children. Would that he cculd say something which would help them to appreciate their power over their children, even long years after all other early influ- ences have been forgotten. Of necessity, the father must be away from home most of the time: When he returns, wearied by the end- less cares and work of the day, he is often not fitted to consider carefully and patiently the cases ¢f management which the mother would gladly place in his hands. So far as possible, these matters will be attepded to by the thougntful mother. Only when abso- lutely necessary is she apt to call upon the father for assistance. For this, and for other reasons, the management of the younger children at least will be almost entirely in the hands of the mother. The character of the child will very largely be determined by the time the child reaches the age of 10. None but the very strongest influence will affect him after that age. Before that time the character may generally be molded at will. For the first five or six years hildren are almost entirely under the nfluence of the mother. After that time her influence will be strongest. Next to her influence, that of the teach- er, father and companions will be most powerful. In the hope of encouraging some weary mothers, who are sometimes dis- couraged by the daily trials with way- ward children, attention is called to a few of the many beautiful tributes to the memory and power of a mother’s noble, self-sacrificing love. To thef# sentiments all loving hearts must as- sent: “Blessed is the memory of an old- fashioned mother. - It floats to us now like the perfume of some woodland blossoms. The music of other voices may be lost, but the entrancing mem- ory of hers will echo_in our hearts for- ever. Other faces will be forgotten, but hers will shine on until the light of heaven's portals shall glorify our own.” ! | Another one has well said: “Who can fathom the depth of a mother’s love? No friendship so pure, so de- voted. The wild storm of adversity and the bright sunshine of prosperity are all alike to her; however unworthy we may be of that affection, a mother never ceases to love her erring child. Often when alone, as we gaze up to the starry heaven, can we in imagina- tion catch a glimpse of the angels around the ‘great white throne's and among the brightest and fairest of them all is our-sweet mother, ever beckoning us onward and upward to her celestial home.” Is it not true as has been said “Better than all the gaud of wealth, better than =all the fastidious tastes and refinements of luxury, better than highest esthetic culture or intellectual superiority, is the presence in the home of one of these queens of the hearth, whose realm is bounded by the affe: tions and well being of her household? Such mothers and such homes will send out sons such as the world needs and men delight to honor, and daugh- ters whose loveliest adornments are the virtues and graces which they possess.” Almost all great men have - been noted ' for their devotion to their mothers. All have recognized her un- limited influence. Who can read the history of Washington or McKinley without being struck with the great appreciation and the loving tender- ness they manifested toward their mothers? How many will join with Lincoln in saying, “All I am, or can be, I owe to my angel mother?” How sweetly Lord Macaulay speaks of his parents; of the pleasure he had nest- ling close to his mother’s bosom; of her good-night kisses and loving glances. Until the day of her dexth his love never lessened. He said, ‘“Years have passed away since we laid her beside my father in the old church yard; yet still her voice whis- pers from the grave and her eye watiches over me as I visit the spots long since hallowed to the memory of my mother.” 3 N CHILD | The wondrous power of a mother's love was well shown by her whose daughter had wandered from home and had been lost in the whirl of sin of New York. Having had her own portrait printed, the mother placed it in a mission house where the fallen creatures sometimes came for a crust of bread or a kind word. The poor fallen daughter saw the picture. Upon the floor she sank, crying “Mother! my mother!” That mother's love so melted her poor heart that she was saved, and returned to her home a ransomed child. In words that can never be forgot- ten, Miss Taylor speaks thus of a mother’s love: Iast thou sounded the depths of yonder sea, And counted the sands that under it be? Hast thou measured the height of heaven above? Then mayst thou measure a mother's love. Eveniog and morn, hast thou watched the bee Go forth on her errands of industry? The bee, for herself, hath gathered and toiled, But the mother's cares are all for her child. There ia not a grand, inspiring thought, There is not a truth by wisdom tat There is not a feeling, pure and high, That may not be read in mother's eve. There are teachings on earth, and sky and alr, ‘The heavens the glory of God declar But more loud than the voice beneat He is heard to speak through a mother’: Parents are apt to forget how great is the price they place upon their precious children. In the press of many cares it is natural they should do so. However, if they would but stop and consider how hard it would be to part with any one of even a"large family of children, they would be more likely to -appreciate how highly they prize each child, and more willing to devote time and thought to their training. ‘Who has not read with emotion Mrs. Beers’ account of the attempt made by needy parents who were striving to de- cide which child should be given in ex- change for comforts for all those re- maining. This is the letter: “I will give a house and land while you shall live, if, in return from out- of your seven, one child to me for aye is given.” Hand in hand the gray-haired, poorly clad parents walk from bed to bed for the purpose of deciding which one shall be given. How hastily they pass the helpless babé, “Not her,” sald the father, as he gazed at the crib which held Ilittle Lillile and her doll. “Nor Jamie, he’s but a baby, too,” the mother said. Then gazing upon pale, patient Robble's aggel face; the father not for a thousand crowns, not him.” Next came “Poor Dick,” bad Dick, wayward son. “No, only a mother's heart can be patient encugh for such as he.” They passed by sweet Mary and the trusty, truth- ful, oldest boy who so resembled his father and So_they wrots, in courtecus way, They would not give one child away. And afterward toll lighter seemed * Thinking of that of which they dreamed Happy in truth. that not one face Was missed from its accustomed place. Truly, most parents do love thalr children, as did these parents. Yet how few love them so wisely as to be will- ing to give the attention necessary to train them properly. Every mother must read with In- creased determination to strive te properly train her children such lines as those written by Miss Allen. They but echo the sentiments which millions of children hold and will hold in years that are-to come, long after the moth- er’s spirit has been wafted to the other shore: Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again, just for to-night; Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore: Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care Smooth the few silver threads of my halr; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep: Rock me to sieep, mother—rock me to sleepl whispered, *“No, P Tired of the hollow, the base. the untrus, Mother, O mother. my heart calls for you; Many a summer the grass has grown green, Blossomed and faded. our faces between: Yet with strong yearning and passionate paim, Long 1 to-night for your presence again Come from the silence 80 long and so deep— Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to sleep! Over my heart in the daye that are flown, No love like mother-love ever has shown, No other worship abides and endures, . unseifish, and patient like yours; None like @ mother can charm away pain From the sick-souled and world-weary brain. Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep— Rock me to sleep, mother—rock me to aleep. Mother, dear mother, the years h: Since T Jast lstened (o your Tullaby song: ~ Sing. then, and unto my soul it shall seem Worianhood's eyes have been only a dream: Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep— Rock me to sieep, mother—rock me to sleep. Noble mothers, grow not weary and faint. Upon you depends not only the happiness of the home, but even the future of our country. Upon you will forever rest not only the blessings of your children, but the highest benedic- tion of Almighty God, whose represen- tatives you are on earth.