ALICE'S LETTER TO HER READERS.

Otago Witness, Issue 1901, 17 July 1890, Page 37

ALICE'S LETTER TO HER READERS.

There is indeed a tone of bitterness in you r letter, Marah, and one of intense sadness, too. When the soul first suffers it cries out, " I cannot bear this thing ; I will not have it so I " Ah, yes you can ; oh, yes you must. You can bear anything, there is nothing too hard, too great, too grand I might almost say, beyond endurance. One thing alone can crush and weaken it— the continuance of sin. You will wonder perhaps at the word cpntinuanoe, and think it is quite enough to brand a man if he be dishonourable once and fall. What does Longfellow say 7 Even of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will bub tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame. And the wrong that taught you humility and self-effacement may be called by an angel's name. The noblest and best of characters are those that have toiled up that golden ladder rung by rung. We have not wings to fly_we can but climb. Of course the world cries " hypocrite" to those who seek to tread beneath their feet a faulty past ; but no brave soul fears the world. When at length the weary one, step by step— toilsome step by step— shall have climbed the hill, and at length has reaohed the summit, " the world " will look up and admire. Will the world ever allow a man to forget his past ? you ask. There will always be some small, narrow, cramped souls who will look on that steady ascent with an outward sneer, but in the shallows of their heart they will seoretly acknowledge you are stronger than they; some who would rather you should fulfil their evil prophecies concerning you than that you should realise the high hopes and faith of those that know you best. Strong faults are" often an index of strong character. There are some natjires too cowardly, too intensely selfish, to offend the law of God or man, and the swift to commit an error are often as swift to repentance ; and depend upon it, only the pure in heart can grieve long and deeply for a fault. That intense unquenchable remorse that teaches self-humiliation and gives courage to take up the cross daily, and, carrying it, to clivib, is an index to a noble heart, for the man who secretly suffers for his dn apart from the consequences it entails hates it. There are some who grieve mightily when the consequences are painful— not for the cause but for the distressing incoming of the tide, which mercilessly throws the wreckage at their feet. Would but the mighty deep Time swallow the past, and keep it : no troubled thought would ever search the secret of its caves. But a man in whom conscience lives like Eugene Aram cannot let the dead lie — cannot find enough leaves in all the merciful forest to cover it, or any grave will bis soul dig deep enough to hide it from sight. Glad faces may smile up into his, but the eyes eeem to taunt him, and although he may become great by earnest, faithful duty when God has forgiven him, yet will he not forgive himself. The police courts of the world every year give evidence of men and women stung by remorse, tortured and humbled secretly, who in the end became brave enough to own an unsuspected crime. Some people who read of them think them mad ; others, that they have gained their reason.

But there is an inevitable law of sowing and reaping. Ignorance may sow what will yield as bad a field as wrong. No thought even is lost, how much less au act ; and those little daily kindnesses or unkindnesses all come back. Many of them we have forgotten, but not even a thought is without its mission. The will power of one mind is exercised over that of another, and you can help your absent friend by hoping all things for him and believing all. Many of those delightful hours of happy day-dreaming, when you "don't know why," but peace seems to surround you, may be caused by the invisible tide of kind thought whose waves are breaking over you; or that "foreboding of evil" may result from the evil existent. Even the thistles bloom, and all who have watched children in the fields ha\eseen them gather a handful, sit down quietly, and with patient, deft fingers pick off without a finger prick all the surrounding thorns, leaving only a soft, fluffy, purple blossom. And so may we, like the children, if we will be patient, strip the thoins from the thistles even of our own sowing ; but we must not tear impatiently at them, or the fluffy blossom will fall to pieces. One day in strolling through an old cemetery I saw at the head of a grave a bank of lovely flowers. On making a close examination I discovered they completely covered and hid a time-stained cross. Take pourage, the lives that are the richest and

very sweetest in fragrance, and fairest to, behold, had years ago no monument but the bare cross.

I will here insert some extracts from a letter from one of the sterner sex who is good enough to say he enjoys the Ladies page as much as the ladies, and at all times appreciates their natty little ways and gentle courtesies : —

Dbab Aliob, — I was fortunate enough to be one of three young men (single and unattaohed) who were invited by a mutual young lady friend to spend a aooial evening at her father a house the other evening ; and upon presenting ourselves we found three young lady guests in addition to our fair hostess. We were instantly relieved of our overcoats, hats, &c, and were ushered into.the drawing room, where there was a cosy fire, and an undefinable feeling of homeliness, whioh at once put ub at our ease.

Seated at a table in one corner of the room were two fair maids making the most charming little baskets ever you saw out of empty oollar boxes. I will try and explain in a clumsy, maaouline way how they contrived them. They first covered the top of the box (one box made two baskets) with crimson or cardinal silk, after which it was enclosed in a macrame net, with a sort of lace edge standing out top and bottom, a strip of whalebone, covered with another macrame stitch, was bent over to form the handle ; a piece of cardinal ribbon was then drawn through the edging, the whole forming one of the most charming dressing table ornaments imaginable, costing but a trifle, I suppose. After a couple of hours' social enjoyment supper waß announoed, and we sat down to a dainty repast, the table literally groaning under the weight of good things provided. All too soon the time oame to bid our adieus, the! company dispersing after thanking our kind hoßtess.' The gentlemen then accompanied the ladies to their homes, and thus ended one of the pleasantest evenings it has been my lot to enjoy. It reoalled very vividly the excellent advice which I have often read in the Ladies' column — vie., asking " our girls " to be natural and sooiable, and not to imagine that " our boys" are utterly devoid of at least a few of those finer feelings, which are supposed to be the exclusive property of the fair sex. I think if Bisters did a little less scolding, and iust olubbed together to arrange an occasional "at home" of a winters evening, it would prove a great counter attraotion to the billiard room, which is such a curße to hundreds of " our boys J " The thousand and one little oourtesieß paid by the sterner to the fairer sex is rightly regarded as their Just due, but don't you think it is a bad rule that won't work both ways ? Try it, ladies, and if you are not surprised at the resultjl am greatly mistaken.— Max,

What do the " sisters " think of Max's idea of arranging pleasant evenings at home for the brothers 1 Is it the women's fault that the men spend their evenings from home? The servants and mistresses have been giving their views, why not the young men and the wives 1 Any letters on these social topics I shall be glad to insert. ,

The St. Maur Company opened on Thursday evening at the theatre to a crowded downstairs and a fair circle, "Jim the Penman " being the attraction. That powerful story was powerfully pourtrayed, Miss Florence Seymour, as the gentle, brave, and long suffering wife, being a revelation. We made her acquaintance in opera, and had no idea that she was an actress of such ability. Her dresses were lovely. In the first drawing room scene she looked a very handsome woman, clad all in red with low neck and short sleeves, and a long sweeping train (of plush). Her gowns were a study, and one could scarcely decide in which she looked the best. A tea gown of plum-coloured satin, with loose coffee-coloured lace, was charming ; and again, a black velvet gown with deep cream collarette and cuffs, made one ardently wish that the said fashion of deep lace collar and cuffs had not gone out. Nothing looked prettier, and tjie pf^n lilped it, which is a sure guarantee of good taste in ladies' dress. Nowhere so much as on the stage is the present style of ladies dress so exemplified as elegant and graceful. The clinging unbroken outline of skirt, with long graceful train, sets off a woman's figure to the fullest advantage, unbunched, unhumped, or befiounced, and if a woman wishes to hand down her picture to posterity let it be taken when this habit-like gown is fashionable. In the wedding scene Miss Seymour wore a lovely lilac brocade, with front of white, silver-beaded silk, elegant beyond description. Miss Eily Mayo wore one charming dress of flesh-coloured silk, trimmed with black ribbon velvet. Miss Lily Hill appeared in a very handsome evening dress of bronze satin, and Miss Hetty Kennedy, as Lady Dunscombe, looked charming in a buttercup-silk, with angel sleeves and Medioi collar. Among those present in the circle I noticed Madame Joubert, wearing a stylish cress of brown cleth ; Mrs Muir, black silk and white lace ; Miss Muir, cardinal gown and pink ribbons ; Miss Hutchison, black lace and white opera cloak; Miss Joubert, cardinal plush opera cloak; Mrs Solomon, very handsome long red cloak; Miss.lnglis, black. After the play Mr St. Maur came before the curtain and told the interested audience that the first mishap on the journey South was that of Mr Christie Murray and himself being left behind at Ashburfo n. This delayed the play one night; but while they journeyed here a telegram reached him to say that unless Mr Kennedy Was with them there would be no " Baron," as he had not turned up. This was a dreadful predicament to be in, and Mr St. Maur realised instantly what it meant — the closing of the theatre. " What shall you do?" asked Mr Christie Murray. " Close the theatre," was the response. The famous novelist was silent for a time, when he said, " Would Ido for the Baron ? " Mr St. Maur's astonishment was only equalled by his gratitude. It was 9 o'clock when they arrived in Dunedin. They were then due at the Savage Club; and almost at midnight Mr Christie Murray started to study a most difficult part that must be presented the next night. Mr St. Maur then called upon the audience to decide whether Mr Christie Murray had aoted the Baron. Long, loud, and repeated applause and calls brought the novelist to the front, where he was greeted with the demonstration that he deserved, not only for his clever and, under the circumstances, wonderful acting of Baron Hartfeldt, but for hi 3 kind and generous conduct. It is needless to say such an act alone would make him popular throughout the colonies. There was not such a large circle as there would have been had not Mrs Reynolds' tableaux vivants crowded the City Hall.

There is cause for congratulation in this, as the entertainment was given as a benefit to the poor mother of the young painter Sinclair, who was killed a few weeks ago. The tableaux were as successful in every way as on their first representation, and all present acknowledged themselves delighted. The following letter from "Bachelor" scarcely needs reply. One would have thought that the common dictates of courtesy would have prevented any lady acting in the way those invited appear to have done, even though their intention was, as " Bachelor " suggests, to give the promoters " the snub direct*: —

Deae Alice, — A number of baohelor farmers around a small, township in the interior of Southland having decided to give a ball, obtained the use of a large barn from a gentleman in the neighbourhood, and sent out invitations to the young ladies and gentlemen of their acquaintance. Previous to the ball, a number of these wrote thanking the bachelors for the invitations, some accepting, and some expressing their regret at being unable to acoept ; but the majority of the ladies invited neither attended nor sent any reply, the result being that out of 49 ladies invited only 18 were present, and of those absent only five had replied to their invitation?, Aa I am just a country bumpkin, not well versed in the usages of society, might I ask you to say whether it is usual to reply to an invitation, and if, in the event of not being able to accept, it is good manners to ignore it completely? Should you decide that it is proper to reply, I have no doubt the bachelors will meokly acoept the Bnub direct implied by thoße who neither replied nor attended, and forthwith hide their diminished heads. — Tours, &o Baohblob. [To ensure publication in the forthcoming iwae letters must reach the Witness office not later than Saturday night.] CONCERT AT OAMABU.

The Dominican Convent Sohool gave a grand concert at the public hall on the 2nd inst. It was a great success, and among the lady performers I noticed Miss Harming, in cardinal trimmed with plush ; Miss Richmond, terra cotta trimmed with blaok velvet ; Miss Procter, white, black sash ; Mi«s Graves, sea green nun's veiling ; Miss Dooley, oream China silk trimmed with pale blue; Miss Haggle, cardinal and black ; Miss Crombie, white muslin ; Miss Ilobartson, black with white vest; Miss De Lambert, white muslin, pale blue sash ; Miss Stocks, cream sateen, old gold sash ; Miss Sybil Lane, faacy costume of blaok velvet and gold braid ; Miss White, pale blue and white ; Miss B. Richmond, white mus-lin.-Jessik.