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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 1, 1886)
THE WEST SHORE. A OHRISTMASTIDB SPINNING. LL OF US know something of what we call common-life he roisms. We like to bear of them, in the ronndod-ont pe riods of the gornion or locture. Surrounded by all the pleas ant occossories of a comfort ablo church or locture hall. in the temporary freedom from borne and business cares, and in spirited by the eloquent utter ances of a brave, candid, sinowy spoeoh, from attractive genius, or I gutod roligious experionoo, those T I heroisms appear simplo enough, easy lrwir jol enough of assimilation. Undor such ciroumHtunces, the dullest of us come into some sort of actualization of our accountability and responsibility. We catch at the fact that all endoavor regenerates by units, and that we are some of the units; that from hearts braced to the true instincts of the nobility of life germinates the flowor and fruit of real heroism. And yet, how often hns it happened, that, the instant the speaker ceased, and the chill air of the evory-day, matter-of-fact aspects of our lives struck us, the whole thing dissipated as a dream. We have found it easy enough to be virtuous, and honest, and mauly, and bolpful, in theory, but once undor the stress and strain of a practi cal test, we have bowed to the assumptions of fashion, or the kiugdom of Satan within us, and shut out from our sympathy and support, some one, who, under the speaker's broader law of humanity, was entitled to our assistance. We are fond of hoariug of that heroism of manhood which saves a man; not that heroism, put away on Hun day night with rustling silks, soft laces and twenty-button kid gloves, or tho best broadcloth suit; but the on ergy and maulinoss that stem the tide of misfortune, disoourageraout and doubt, all the things which make up the vast, pathotio music of maukind, are quite another thing. It does not require any very great effort to talk about high purioecB and heroio deeds, but when it oomns to coining that talk into daily character and doings, we discover that it is far from easy. Perhaps the majority of people miss the blessing there is in doing kind, ser viceable action, because they are always waiting for the time when they shall be esecially fitted for some great work. The little needs lie all along the way; the cups of cold water; the sympathetic pressure of the hand; the kind, cheery word; the frogmont of flower sent to sick child; the word of favor for another, all those are close at hand; the afterwards may never come, (treat deeds stand like isolated islands in the sea. Out of these lit tle things, which daily rise in the eastward of our lives, we shall got the content of homes; the exquisite dolight of love and friendship; a genuine sweetness of living; strong and trustworthy love of country, characteristics by which we shall find each cMu in tho evorlaating community beyond. Husbands are plentiful enough vruo find it necessary to maintain a strong grip upon tl msolvos in order to keep from doing something of tho h roio for their wives; yot the wme h'1'nd run not he depended on to split the family kindling wood. They fail to realise that hus. bandship, like good, honest ohristianity, is a matter of pots and kettles; of little things manfully done. It is not tho acrcago, but tho kind of cultivation wo are giv. ing our soil. A man in this splendid v.dley may havo a hundred acres, and bo heir to all tho bird songs and rain drops that oomo upon his spread-out fields, yet ho must steadily cultivate them if ho would have a harvest Ho may have ten thousand acres of moral, christian and In tollootual life, and get nothing from them but weeds; per ohanoo a littlo volunteer grain, that will now and then force itself into tho most neglected life. Another may have a mere garden patch, yet by that tilling which in vites the Creator's interest make it yield richly for all the future Tho most splendid gift of the Creator to man is opportunity. Ho never gives man new faculties nor perfected plans. Ho can not give us back lost op portunities. Men liko tho fictitious. They liko ficti tious sorrow and woe. We go wild over a thing in art that we avoid in nature. We pay a dollar for the box at the theater in which to weep over the represented sorrow of " Two Orphans," insUtad of taking our tears and sympathy and money to No. 1)00, tumbhwlown tene. ment house, whero real orphans are actually dying of hunger, whero it would, indited, lo heroism to laltor. We do not cars to find out the sparrows of humsnlty, who, morally and physically nnclad, thirsting, shelter less, and out in the wintry air of indifference, are drip ping away through the coarse sieves of discouragement and doubt. It is so much more pleasant and congenial to sit down before the open grate fires, ami have flams framed pictures of that moral ami intellectual Arcadia, which is a beautiful trust, cloud-city dream, that comes out of the drone of Insy summer afternoon, and toward which tho sentimentalist stretches the pinions of his lore and fancy. Most of us find it easy enough to helps certain class of poor. Here, for iustaiiee, is a family, refined in habit, correct in spoeoh, Mlite, shabby genteel; they are clean. If they oould Iwka or stew or fry refined habits, and ssaoe it with politeness, they would all be fat and independent 13 ut the carpet is worn and patched; tho clothing has been much made over; the cnpixmrd is a sort of Mother II ubUrd affair. Why, almost any of as will help such people. Hut over there is another case, The man is brutal in sjieech, snd beastly in bnl.it He is filthy to the touch, lie has been educated to !eef and beer ami dog fights. He is repulsive. It is human nature to kick him, Nino limes out of ten we do kick him. You and I know highly reectd sod respectable people whom it would be wholly unsafe to take literally, because we know that they could not be absolutely twin, est in principle nor csudid in speech. They msy I