PETTICOAT PHILOSOPHY.

Evening Star, Issue 14053, 7 May 1909, Page 2

PETTICOAT PHILOSOPHY.

There is hut one mate for each man and woman in the world, and until they recognise the fact and learn with patience to await that note of absolute conviction which is the one infallible guide to happiness marriages will fail as they fail now, and the church will give its empty blessing to those ill-assorted pairs whom God forever leaves unblessed.—May Bateman. Women are smaller-minded than men. That seems a big admission, but I’m convinced that men would be smaller-minded still if they were in our place, so it’s not as big as it seems. It’s our life’s -work to do the small things, to save the small sums, and haggle over pennies, while men deal with the great affairs of life. A man. groans over housekeeping bills in the bulk, and begs his wife to keep them down; but if they go shopping together it is always he who plumps for the most expensive things, and thinks it folly to hesitate for the sake of a few extra shillings. All the littles added together make up the comfort and happiness of a home, so the feminine mind gets trained to take small views.—Mrs George deHorne Vaizev.

We can get nothing in this world worth keeping, not so much as a principle or a conviction, except out of purifying flame or through strengthening peril. We err; we fall; we are humbled—then we walk more carefully.

People hate to be reminded of ills they are unable or unwilling to remedy; such reminder, in forcing on them a sense of their own incapacity, or a more painful sense of an obligation to make some unpleasant effort, troubles their ease and shakes their self-complacency,—Charlotte Bronte.

Those who love are proverbially egotistical ; they have been singled out as the recipients of a gift whose value has in it' something almost bewildering. The world stands still for a breathless time, and it is for them that the sun remains high up in the heavens.—S. Macnaughton. ■ “ Whatsoever her children’s woes, Nature pursues her broad and tranquil way. Every unhappy soul, she knows, is in her hands. This pain they suffer, this remorse or grief which- sends a nark, dis- : tracted figure peering and threshing through her silver sleep, frantically asearch for some poor friend who is in danger of perishing by the way—this pain she knows ■ is only growing pain, the rack upon which man comes to higher stature.” “ There are women who, until they have lost him, do not realise all that a man has meant.to them. - When they have lost him they know that they have not only lost, but that some other woman wirl find him.”— Arabella Kenealj.