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