AUNT LEONORE'S EVENING TALKS. BY MISS JULIA A. SPRAGUE. NO. I. AST night, as I turned around on the this candle shall be set, that its beams may be shed still more widely! I will begin this very night, and while this conversation is still fresh in my mind, I will write it down." I sat late that night at my desk, not even heeding her my te ve passed to her own room. While making a call at a friend's house that day, I had chanced to hear the following remark from one of the company, who was speaking of a mutual acquaintance. “It is but charity," said she, to call this woman insane, so ill-tempered and despotic is she in her family." These words came again and again into my mind, as I sat with aunt that evening in our quiet room; following the train of thought which they awakened, I suddenly broke the silence, "Aunt, what is charity?" Aunt Leonore good night, I stood still a moment to look at her. The light from the shaded lamp fell over her figure, as she sat there in her plain, well-fitting black dress, her hands folded carelessly over the brightcolored knitting-work in her lap, while the plants and trailing vines in our bay-window made such a pretty background. She looked up to return my good-night greeting; it was a pleasant picture, - the dark brown hair with its silvery streaks, hardly touched with the simple head-dress; these glossy bands of hair lying so evenly back from the temples; the broad, smooth forehead; the calm, clear light in the brown eyes as they looked up at me; the cheeks a little flushed from the excitement of our conversation; the firm lines around the mouth when at rest, but which can bend to one of the most fascinating, lovely smiles I have ever seen; "Ah!" said I, "you are one of the rare wise ones of question, adding, "I cannot see the charity our earth!" Slowly ascending the stairs, in this musing mood, I continued my soliloquy; "How "How many of our acquaintances, of all ages, both sexes, all conditions, under all circumstances, constantly seek Aunt Leonore for advice, or opinion at least. How often have I sat by, a silent listener, while she threw the bright light of her reasoning on some dark subject, disentangling with her clear, sharp logic some knotty point, with her penetrating thought causing some doubtful case to emerge gradually from the mists which the questioner had unconsciously thrown around it, till all looked so bright and plain and clear, that it seemed as if I had never seen it otherwise. “Why,” I exclaimed suddenly in my enthusiasm, "why cannot more persons have the benefit of these practical observations, the results of the checkered experience of a thoughtful, truly benevolent woman? It shall be so. I have a bright thought. I will be the candle-stick (and I involuntarily grasped more firmly the one I was holding, which had suggested my symbol) on which She could not but smile at my abruptness. "Why, Anna, you turn to me as if I were a dictionary, which you needed to open only, and there stands the correct, ready answer to whatever you may please to ask. What is the cause of this sudden outburst?" I repeated the remark which caused the in such a conclusion." "You are right, my dear Anna," said Aunt Leonore; "it is a cruelty, yes, even a crime, to exercise such a charity. Reason' sanity, are our most precious possessions in life; both render our words and our deeds reliable, responsible, and worthy of honor. As soon as we lose our balance of mind we are nothing; our word is listened to with unbelieving ears, our actions criticised with distrustful eyes, and on our promises no reliance is placed. Turn which way we please, we have no hold, no respect. It is wrong to speak thus of persons, denying them the possession of reason, even when this is done out of good feeling. It is not the truth; and charity should never prevent us from speaking the truth, nor from speaking and acting justly." "But what is charity? Tell me, Aunt Leonore." After a long pause, Aunt Leonore replied, "I hardly know how to define it intelligibly, because charity belongs to our emotional nature, to our feelings, and yet it is to be controlled by our intellect. It is, perhaps, the noblest sensation of which we are capa- | Bridget, afterwards in your vexation on ble; yet how difficult it is to teach what it ought to be. Charity is the spirit of forgive ness, by which we overlook or annihilate defects in others, even when these cause us trouble or pain. Charity is also the willingness and unselfishness which makes us ready to assist each other in moments of need. But again, charity is also the entire forgetting of all deeds rendered at such moments, without the slightest expectation of gratitude or of remembrance on the part of the recipients. But charity is also the willingness to accept such deeds when needed. Charity is, besides, an intellectual faculty, requiring an almost imperceptible discretion in its exercise towards those who, in education or in natural gifts, stand below us. Therefore charity would imply these many qualities; consideration of the position and condition of others; patience with the intellectual deficiencies of others; kindness in case of need; sympathy, but also that reserve which never becomes meddlesome, inquisitive, prying into the sacred, innermost natures of others; and this applies, not only to our friends, but to all with whom we come in contact, rich or poor, virtuous or vicious, independent of, or dependent upon us." "Well, Aunt Leonore, all this sounds well, and appears right. But how to put this theory into daily practice? Take, for instance, my own experience yesterday. In the morning I talked with our Bridget about her going to the hospital. She agreed to it. I was out nearly all the afternoon, making the preparations for her admission, putting two physicians to considerable inconvenience, and taking cold myself by exposure to the sudden shower which came up; returning home, having ordered the carriage for her conveyance to the hospital, I was informed by Bridget that she preferred to go to her sister's home; to that miserable house, where noisy, crying children will prevent her resting, and where she cannot have the fresh air, or other comforts which she needs. How can one continue to exercise "charity" in such cases? No; for all that I care, she may live or die now; I shall not take another step in her behalf." “My dear Anna, I watched you carefully yesterday, first in your conversation with your return home. I did not interfere with your doings, because I thought you would learn a good lesson. and the out-door exercise would not hurt you. But now let us look at this case through my eyes. Bridget was taken sick about three days ago. I told her that she was welcome to her room, and asked her what physician she would like. She thought she needed none, but wished to keep quiet till she felt better, or till she could go to her sister's. Now I had done all that was necessary to make her comfortable, without interfering with her wishes. You went to her yesterday morning, and advised her to go to the hospital, painting also in strong colors the discomforts of her sister's house; she agreed reluctantly to what you said. This reluctance you did not observe, because, in your eagerness to benefit, you thought only of what you consider to be comfort. You then offered to inquire about admission. She replied, "Thank you, Miss Anna." She did not ask you to inquire. She could not think that you would make all the arrangements. Who knows but that she thought by the time you returned, she should be safely in her sister's house? But for that sudden shower, I think you would not have found her here on your return. If the plain home of her sister seems more desirable to her, why should we prevent her going there? Imagine yourself sick here in our little cozy cottage. I am old, and cannot take care of you, but must hire a nurse. Suppose now, Mrs. Russell, our neighbor, whose house is large enough to contain four of ours, should come up to your little chamber to see you. Entering your room, she exclaims, "Why, Miss Anna, you ought not to be here in this close chamber, with its slanting walls; you would be much more comfortable in a hospital, where you can have a large square room, and plenty of fresh air. How can you breathe here? Besides, how it increases your aunt's cares, to have a nurse in the house; and how much trouble your sickness makes her here. I will go to the hospital and make the necessary inquiries and arrangements; you will be so much more comfortable there!" I did not interrupt aunt, but sat in silent astonishment at this new presentation of a subject at which I had always looked from the other side. "Strange!" thought I, "that the same thing can have two such entirely different aspects." "How indignant you would be, Anna! How meddlesome would Mrs. Russell seem to you! How ready would you be to tell her, 'that the want of her rich comforts is no want to you; that you would rather die with such comforts as you have around you than to go away from me; and that you know I would have a thousand more anxieties if you were away from me, than I could possibly have if you were here sick in the house; for you know it would be a pleasure for me to give up all my comfort, and my nights' rest to be with you, to care for you, and to do all that I was able?' What is the difference between this interference of our neighbor, and that which you practised yesterday?" "But, aunt, our Mary went to the hospital last year." 66 Certainly; she wished to go; she begged us to make the necessary arrangements, in spite of the opposing advice of her friends. Relatives she had not, and therefore preferred to go to the hospital. I was glad to send her there comfortably, ready to look after her while there, and happy to afford her a home here afterwards, during her convalescence. This I call charity in practice. Mary is grateful to me, and appreciates my good feelings towards her, because I let her feel her individual independence." "But, aunt, how few people live comfortably with their servants! How many complaints are made of the impudence and even insolence of the 'Bridgets' and the Marys!"" "I know it. Most people exercise charity towards their servants by impulse; hence comes the discomfort; only few persons look upon their relation to us by the light of reason and logic. In a wide-stretching, unexplored country like ours, where everybody, man or woman, is his or her own sovereign, where no law exists to make caste or classes, where freedom of action on the broadest scale is permitted, where the farmer, the mechanic, the professional man, may change his occupation at his pleasure, and where he can attain the highest honors, where, in other words, ability, capacity alone, decides what position the individual shall occupy in such a great and glorious country, the attempt to make servants is simply preposterous. Our school education is such that every girl born here has a chance to become independent, at least in feeling if not in means, and thinks and determines for herself. What is the consequence? Naturally, American 'help' (such was the term used formerly) are rarely to be found. The young American woman, by means of this education, tries to preserve her independence' by seeking such employment as will ensure her a living, and allow her to be her own mistress; thus those obliged to hire help must look for it among the uneducated, the immigrants. And well it is that we have to look for those, for it enables thousands and thousands to be benefitted by the free air of republicanism. But you smile." "Excuse me, dear aunt. But what has 'republicanism' to do with these ignorant, stupid women?" "This is the very point which the women of this country do not seriously consider. That the free air of republicanism takes care of these apparently stupid women arriving on our shores is altogether left out of sight; and our educated women look upon them as helpless, ignorant beings, who do not know how to take care of themselves. But, let me ask you, to what dangers is an Irish girl exposed in her position as cook, that she must be taken care of in every way?" "But, aunt, may we not assist a girl in making her purchases, advise her in the economizing of her wages, or counsel her in sickness?" "Anna, the very fact that the girl decided to emigrate from the Green Isle,' does not that show an individuality sufficiently strong to know how to care for herself? Why must the lady trouble herself to buy her cook's dress, for fear the girl may be cheated in her purchase? Why must the lady take it upon herself to economize with her girl's wages, and avoid paying her punctually at the end of the week? Why must the lady choose the physician for her when she is sick? I once stood at the bedside of a very sick servant; the lady had employed her family physician to attend her; he having pro nounced her recovery doubtful, the lady then made arrangements for consultation with one of the best physicians in the city, and they had just left the room as I entered; I saw Katy kissing her kind mistress' hand, and thanking her for all she had done for | her during their twelve years, relation, and then she added, "But if you would only send for Dr. H-, he will save my life; for, to tell you the truth, he is my physician, and whenever I was sick I went to him. I could not take the medicine of your Dr. A. I knew that when I myself paid for the advice, it would be given to me with more interest." The lady was both astonished and indignant, for she had paid many a bill for Kate to Dr. A. However, she sent for Dr. H. I was there, and, as he entered the room, the look of confidence, the glow of happiness on Kate's face were so apparent, that we felt at once she would recover; and so she did. "But, aunt, I do not wonder your friend was indignant. How deceitful that girl was! What motive could she have had?" "Yes, Anna, this otherwise good woman was rendered deceitful for many years by a charity on the part of her mistress which was not wanted. Yet the right kind of charity, the charity of reserve, would have saved this woman from this deception. Her mistress reasoned with her afterwards upon this point, and she said, "Oh, ma'am, you are always so kind to me, that I had not the courage to refuse the acceptance of anything from you; and as I knew you were rich I felt that the paying an unnecessary doctor's bill would do you no harm." Farther inquiry was made as to her ability to pay her physician's fees; to which she replied, "Oh, yes, ma'am, I can fully afford it. My wages allow me to send fifty dollars a year to my old mother in Ireland, ten dollars I subscribe to the Carney Hospital, and so far I have been able to give ten dollars a year for the building of the new church." Another kind of guardianship is also assumed by mistresses, which is constantly calling forth insolence and impudence; namely, taking care of the wardrobe of the girls, (Anna, we will so designate them; the name 'servants" is unpleasant to me,-) by buying the material for their dresses, &c. It is a common saying among the girls, that their ladies "make profit" out of these commissions, and thus reduce the high wages promised. To all these accusations ladies expose themselves, because they consider it charity to go 'shopping,' that the girls may not be cheated or pay largely for unsuitable articles of dress." "Then, Aunt Leonore, you don't approve even of our saving time to the girls, through our experience in shopping?" "My dear Anna, to whom do you save the time? Are you performing a charity to the girl by saving her time, or are you in reality saving the time to yourself? Who loses the work, you, or the girl whom you employ ? If you consider the question rightly, you are actuated more by selfishness, that your work shall not be delayed, than charity to the girl to save her time; and for the possibility of imposition by the storekeepers, this is only a bugbear. I have never known of stores which had two sets of prices, one for ladies who do know, and one for servants who do not know. How quickly would the proprietor of a store, who gave such directions to his salesmen, lose his business! Did you ever hear of such a distinction in prices? 66 No, aunt; what I mean is, that these girls, unused to buying, may not feel that they have a right to examine fully before deciding what is best and cheapest. They decide too rashly." "Granting that this is so though the clerks will perhaps tell you the very opposite there is a satisfaction in the very act of deciding for one's self; and if an error is made, the individual who committed the mistake suffers, and has learned a lesson which will make her wiser hereafter. The girls need these very lessons, for when they are no longer girls,' are married, have less money to use, and have others depending upon them, who will then be their guardian and protector? The unmarried woman has her good wages, her good home, and is therefore fully able to pay her school-fees for learning in every branch. From this standpoint I consider the charity of looking after a girl's shopping an absolutely injurious one, deserving all the insolence of the remarks which are so richly bestowed upon the mistresses behind their backs. But let us now look at the position of mistress' and 'help' in this country, from the right standpoint, and see where and how charity ought to be practised. As soon as a foreigner steps from the ship to the shore, he or she is free; his own master, her own mistress, a few years will suffice to allow the man to decide for himself in political matters. The woman, without this privilege, is however perfectly free to apply her strength and ability to her best advantage. She knows this fully; she came here with the understanding; she is no more a servant, a subject. To be sure, her education is such that she does not fully realize the demands made upon her, and thus often overrates herself, and is, perhaps, extravagant in her expectations; but, as a general rule, her demands stand in due proportion to the value of her capabilities. She comes here to seek work; those who seek labor employ her, and there ends the relation. No man who employs a workman, feels that it is necessary for him to take special charge of his welfare; on the contrary, most employers would hesitate to advise a man, even not to spend his money on liquor, and would consider it perfectly preposterous to go to the tailors to order his coat. Why then this difference between the gentleman and the lady with their employees? Is the Irishman so much above the Irishwoman that he requires no charity?' No; the answer is, the Irishman is a self-reliant voter, on a political equality with his employer, a man versus a man; therefore the strict relation of employer and employee; anything farther the gentleman considers is not his business. Is the employee cheated, that does not concern his employer; does he go into company after his work is done, that does not disturb him, for the man is responsible for his own doings. Charity is only given to him when it is asked, and not more than what is asked; therefore the balance of good feeling is not disturbed. Quite different is it with the other sex. Ladies consider themselves' mistresses,' and their 'help' their servants. They wish to patronize, to exercise a general oversight; yes, even to speak for them when they cannot express themselves readily. The habits of life, and the position of our wealthier women lead them to believe their own advantages are necessi ties to happiness. They want employment of body and mind, but not work;' they like to do good,' and thus intrude a friendliness upon the girls employed, which the latter neither need nor desire, and which is really unnatural. The girl feels this. She feels that there is, just at this time, no one else who happens to employ her 'lady's' interest, and that she may humbly retire when another more interesting object, perhaps some one more nearly equal in education and position, shall engage this unemployed interest." "Ah, Aunt Leonore, I think you are too severe for I must own I like to let those who work for me feel that I am their friend, and am ready to do all I can for them." 66 My dear Anna, most ladies speak so. Do you think, if you did not show this special interest, the girls will think you their enemy? Is it perhaps the way of the world to employ persons towards whom they feel hostile? The last time when you engaged a chambermaid, did you not tell me that you were attracted to her personally? and I think we are often thus influenced in our choice of house-assistants. As for your willingness to do for them if they are in need, this you can show in a thousand different ways; but you need not force upon them a guardianship, or a pretended charity, which The is neither desirable nor useful to them. opportune moments come in every one's life, but especially in that of an employer, man or woman, when he or she can show that kindly consideration which will make the employee feel readily enough where to go in case of need and sorrow, for advice, for assistance, and for consolation." "Ah! Aunt Leonore, I shall have to learn a great deal before I know what you mean by exercising the right kind of charity. But what would you say to one who asked how you would treat girls in your employ?" "I will try to give you a general idea of the principles upon which I have acted; and in my experience I have never had occasion to regret my relations with my girls, who, on their side, appeared to like their situation, and never left me for the sake of a mere change. When we engage any woman to assist in our household, we ought to remember that |