Winter Meeting. 333 



sharers of its success and hopes, and among these subjects of a good for- 

 tune we must place the condition of woman. To her the world has rapidly 

 become transformed. She might easily hear the heavenly music sung by 

 St, John, "The former things are pased away, behold I make all things 

 new !" There was a time when it was thought to be woman's lot to be 

 ever waiting for one of the opposite sex, from her earliest recollection 

 to the end of her existence. Well she remembers how often, during 

 her first school days, she was tardy because she waited for her brother, 

 who had neglected to carry in the wood until the last minute, and then 

 begged so earnestly that she would wait for him. It was not that he 

 was so anxious for company, but he knew he would gain some assistance 

 from her. Yet he, like most boys, repeatedly remarked, "I'd like to 

 know what girls are good for." 



In after years, when she has almost completed her education, and is 

 desirous to enter college, she is invariably told she must wait awhile ; 

 the times are too hard to admit of sending two away to college, and, of 

 course. Brother Charley must go, for it is more essential that boys 

 should be well educated. 



Although there is nothing said to this efifect, yet it is pretty well 

 understood that she is now waiting until the right one comes along. 



Finally he comes, but he is always late, and then she imagines he 

 has gone to see another girl, and is very much relieved when a well- 

 known footstep is heard. 



After a certain length of time she is waiting for him to propose 

 marriage. She is disappointed a number of times, but patiently waits. 



When the important question is asked and answered to the satisfac- 

 tion of both parties, and the marriage ceremony is performed, she com- 



* 

 mences a lifelong series of waiting until it becomes a second nature to 



her, and when she is permitted to leave this world, very likely her hus- 

 band complained because she did not wait for him. 



Then there was an era when she was spoken of in a sentimental 

 way by song-makers. As Moore said of her : 



' 'Man for his glory 



To history flies; 

 While woman's bright story 



Is told In her eyes." 



But the poets of our day tell of womanhood in far different meas- 

 ures. 



Hawthorne has painted women for us with heroic souls — tender, 

 gentle, noble women. 



Whittier has given a radiance to Barbara Fritchie, not of youth and 

 beauty, but with a rich sunset splendor about it. 



