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Jan 23 1901


The Evening News, Toronto, Ontario January 23, 1901


Ella Wheeler Wilcox has, with her facile pen given to the world one of the best answers to the question "What is the ideal love of woman for man that I have ever seen. Every word of it is good common sense:- "This question is propounded to me: "What is the highest form of woman's love for man?"

The question is at once simple and complex. Not every woman is endowed with the qualities, which enable her to be a lover. Not every woman so endowed meets the one capable of inspiring her.

Not every woman who loves deeply possesses the spiritual and mental traits, which alone render that love a blessing and a power for good to the recipient. There are women whose love blights and ruins. There are others whom to love or be loved by brings forth the latent powers in a man's nature and speeds him to the summits.

The highest form of love in a woman is that which ennobles not only the man who receives it, but she who gives it.

I have more than once seen a woman belittled and cheapened by a spaniel-like devotion to a man who was unworthy of the sentiment bestowed upon him, and who was wearied by it. Such love is pitiful and holds no element of grandeur. It is merely one form of hysterics and ought to come under the head of nervous diseases. A great love, "the highest form of love," must contain a large element of womanly self-respect, and must dignify the giver as well as the recipient even in its most extravagant phases. It must to some degree absorb all other loves and make them secondary, yet if it renders the heart which is its home cruel to every living thing, or blind to any duty, it ceases to be the "highest form of love." To love truly, absorbingly and passionately any one human being, ought to make us more considerate and tender toward all humanity; just as the sunlight penetrates into dark recesses and warms and blesses every leaf and blade of grass, so a great love should cast its radiations upon all who come within its aura.

Our sympathies, our benevolence, our affections should all be deepened and widened by the presence of the great awakener in our hearts. A woman's faith in the man she loves should be firm and patient, yet it should not be blind.

It should expect results. It should not be satisfied to see him degenerate into selfishness, greediness or immorality and make no protest or give no warning.

It should be a spur to his best nature, to his highest impulses.

Unless a man improves under the influence of a woman's love there is something wrong with her love or the man.

Every human being either improves or degenerates as years pass by. To the unprejudiced eye these subtle changes are visible year by year. There is no such thing as remaining stationary, mentally morally or physically.

A man may lose fortune and position yet grow into a finer and more admirable manhood through the experience. He may gain wealth and at the same time lose or gain in moral worth and these changes should be first visible to the eyes of the women who loves him. The highest type of love is not blind. It has the good of its object too near its heart to be blind to the changes, which encompass it. "Patient Griselda" was not a noble type of loving woman. She encouraged the brute and the tyrant in man, and allowed him to lower himself in the moral scale. When a man says of a woman; "No matter what I do she will say it is all right," be sure that woman is not giving the highest type of love. What a man ought to be able to say is: "No matter how appearances are against me she will believe in me until I can explain to her, and if I make a mistake she will be the first to encourage me to begin anew and the quickest to forgive."

No woman who loves utterly would think it a great sacrifice to give up her life for her lover were it necessary. Love is immortal, and has no fear of death.

A perfect love must include spiritual sympathy, mental companionship, physical responsiveness. Any one of these elements lacking love is crippled.


One of the New York journals gives another odd position, which women may attain to in the new century. Though to fill the requirements she must be a very special kind of woman:-

"Here's a new occupation for women," said the lawyer to his club friend after he had finished reading a letter.

"Sorry to hear it." Was the gruff reply, for the other man had little use for women, "they are into too many things now."

"But this is something a man couldn't possibly do, and it will provide comfortable livings for a number of women with tact."

"Well, out with." said the bachelor.

"I've just had a letter from my nephew up at Cornel, and he wants me to find him a matron. Do you know of any?"

"Matron for what?"

"Why for his fraternity house, of course. What do you suppose he wanted one for? A sort of professional chaperon to live in the house, keep the servants straight, purchase supplies for the dining room and act as mistress when the girls come to visit them."

"In my day the girls brought their own chaperon and there wasn't a woman about the house except on special occasions," grunted the bachelor.

"Well, the boy says that all of the 'frats' are going to introduce matrons. Some college out West tried it and found it such a success that the scheme has pushed itself East like wildfire. He says that the demand is greater than the supply and that I've just to find him a matron."

"What are the requirements for one of these professional chaperons?"

"Here it is; I'll read you; 'She must not be too old and not too pretty. Can't have the fellow falling in love with her. Prefer a widow--the real thing, you know, not a divorced one. She must be well connected and have a good society manner. We want a jolly woman, with enough reserve to keep things within bounds without being too motherly. We will pay a good salary fit up one of the finest rooms in the house for her, and stand the expense of party gowns."

"They don't want much, do they?" said the bachelor.

It is also said that "three important London clubs have handed over the domestic details of their clubhouses to the management of women. It is said that in a few months of their administration of affairs the general expenditure has been greatly decreased and that they not only have made the coffee rooms pay their expenses after feeding all the club servants but have found a balance. A member of a business house that employs women in responsible places says: "Women are less gullible than men and are less afraid of saying what they really think. The average man hates making a fuss and would rather let things go as they are than incur enmity by trying to change them."

It is said also, that one of the largest omnibus companies in London is managed by a woman who selects, engages, dismisses and pays all drivers and conductors. Several large hospitals in Paris, Berlin, Vienna and Amsterdam are under the entire control of women.


How awfully hard it must be for some folk to live together in peace and quiet--or rather not. Personally I believe that.

"Peace hath her victories,
No less renowned that war."

And that the best of these victories are won in homes where one is pulling north and the other south. Street cars always provide the observant eye with comedies or tragedies, no less than a three days' journey by boat or rail--all the more marked, perhaps, because they are of a kaleidoscopic variety. To-day upon getting into a Yonge Street car, I observed its sole occupants to be two women, from a family resemblance, evidently sisters. Both were probably on the shady side of fifty; the face of one was hard, soured and set; the face of the other, the younger was peevish, discontented and restless. The set hard looking one cared little for personal appearance; her garb was Quakerish in its simplicity; but the restless, peevish one evidently had not quite got away from the attempt at decoration inherent in most feminine minds. She bounced across the aisle from her sister and eyed the writer curiously for a few moments; then looked at her sister, and said disapprovingly, "For goodness sake roll up your umbrella." The reply she got was a contemptuous look and the umbrella remained unrolled. Finally she leaned over and said confidently, but with the simper of a school girl, "Does my hair look all right?" the reply this time was another contemptuous look, and a mumble that sounded suspiciously like "Food!" from the elder women. The younger said almost pathetically, "Can't you say yes or no?" but there was no answer. They finally got off the car at Adelaide Street and left beside a feeling of amusement, one of deep pity at the pathos of it. What a life to live from day to day. Of the same blood; yet as wide apart as the poles, and compelled by cruel circumstances to live together.

Was it any wonder that one looked old and hard and the other discontented and peevish? The incident reminded me of the story of an old couple who for their everlasting quarrelling were a scandal to a certain parish. Their pastor called one afternoon, and found them in the midst of a very warm discussion. While remonstrating with them and enlarging on the beauties of peace, he pointed by way of illustration to a cat and dog lying before the fire in apparent amity with themselves and all the world, and said. "Just see what a good example these poor, dumb beasts are setting you; and think shame of yourselves." In an instant the old woman flashed back at him this unanswerable argument, "Tie 'em together, and see if they won't fight!"

Some of us are born rebels, and compulsion rasps our souls like a file.


The principal feature on the new gowns seems to be the sleeves, and this change one regrets to add is more odd than pretty or graceful. The shoulder seem is long, and the sleeve gradually increases in size until its greatest fullness is reached midway between the elbow and the waist. At this point it is generally gathered into a small close cuff, which may be elaborately trimmed. This model is suggestive of the bishop sleeve only that it starts with less fullness and has a deeper cuff. A pretty fashion that seems to be growing in popularity is to have a gown laced in various places with small ribbon. This may be used on the bodice in two rows extending from the choker to the bust, where the ends of the ribbon tie and fall, the bodice fastening invisibly. On the sleeves the deep cuffs may be laced, and on the skirt there may be a couple of rows of lacing down each side to within about a foot of the hem. A pretty yellow and white crepe is effectively trimmed in this way with black satin ribbon.

Narrow black satin ribbon is perhaps not so decorative as velvet, but nevertheless it is used extensively. There is a limited amount of gold used on many of the new gowns. Gold trimming to be at all fashionable now must come in a design different from any that has been seen. A lot of tiny gold fasteners are being used and a pretty idea is to have a dozen of them, six on each side to lace the front of a choker. They are often arranged in clusters on the turned over top of a choker.


The following verses written by Mrs. Elizabeth Barret Browning, "Victoria's Tears" on learning the news of her accession to the throne of England are very beautiful, particularly in the note of prophecy in the last verse which has been fulfilled during the last few days;


"O maiden! Heir of kings!
A king has left his place
The majesty of Death has swept
All other from his face!
And thou upon thy mother's breast

No longer lean adown
But take the glory from the rest
And rule the land that loves thee best!"
She heard and wept--
She wept to wear a crown!

They decked her courtly halls,
They reined her hundred steeds,
They shouted at her palace gate
"A noble Queen succeeds!"
Her name has stirred the mountains' sleep,
Her praise has filled the town!
And mourners God had stricken deep
Looked up, and hearkening did not weep.
Alone, she wept
Who wept to wear a crown!
She saw no purples shine,
For tears had dimmed her eyes;
She only knew her childhood's flowers
Were happier pageantries!
And while her heralds played the part,
For million shouts to drown,
She heard through all her beating heart
And turned and wept--
She wept to wear a crown!

"God save thee, weeping Queen!
Thou shalt be well beloved!
The tyrant's sceptre cannot move
As those pure tears have moved!
The nature in thine eyes we see
That tyrants cannot own,--
The love that guardeth liberties,
Strange blessing on the nation lies,
Whose sovereign wept--
Yea! Wept, to wear its crown!

God bless thee, weeping Queen,
With blessing more divine!
And fill with happier love than earth's
That tender heart of thine!
That when the thrones of earth shall be
As low as graves brought down,
A pierced hand may give to thee
The crown which angels shout to see!
Thou wilt not weep,
To wear that heavenly crown!

-Mrs. E. B. Browning


This morning at 7 o'clock at the Church of the Sacred Heart King Street, Miss Eva Gendron of 161 Sherbourne Street, and Mr. E.R. Des Rosiers of Ottawa, were united in marriage by the Rev. P. Lemarche. The wedding was a very quite one, only the immediate relatives of the contracting parties being present, Mr. and Mrs. Des Rosiers left on the 9 o'clock train for Boston and New York.


The committee of the High Park Golf Club beg to announce to the members and their friends that the dance which was to have taken place tomorrow evening is postponed on account of the death of the Queen.

Miss Lois Winlow, the talented young cellist, will make her first appearance in Toronto after her return from Germany at the Women's Musical Club tomorrow morning. Owing to the death of her Majesty the Queen the concert which was to have been given by the Mendelssohn Choir to-morrow evening is postponed.

Miss Muriel Church of Ottawa, who has been staying in town with Mrs. Plunkett Magann has returned home.

The dinner party which was to have been given by his Honor the Lieutenant- Governor and Miss Mowat on Friday evening in honor of Lieut-Col. Lessard is postponed on account of the death of the Queen. The Lieutenant-Governor and Miss Mowat have cancelled all social engagement.


Ottawa, Ont., Jan. 23--The wedding of Edward Bremner of the Canada Atlantic Railway formerly of Toronto and Miss Edith A. Edwards, daughter of J. C. Edwards, lumberman, and niece of W.C. Edwards, M.P., took place this afternoon at the residence of the bride's father, Theodore Street. Owing to a recent bereavement in the family of the bride, the marriage ceremony was extremely quiet and only the immediate members of the family were present. Rev. A. A. Cameron officiated and Don Bremner, of Toronto, was best man. The bride was married in her travelling dress. After the wedding the bride and bridegroom left for Montreal and New York.


Oh, miles and miles of beds in a row,
Acres of coverlets white as snow,
Pillows and pillows, and sheets galore,
Blankets and quilts by the hundred score--
Ah! These are the sights that each night greet
The children who go to Slumber Street.

Hush-a-byes, hush-a-byes, soft and low;
Rhythmical murmurs, both fast and slow;
Ditties and hymn tunes, and ballads rare;
Melodies gay, and with plaintive air;
Lullabies tender and soft and sweet--
This is the music of Slumber Street.

Visions delightful happy and gay,
Of wonderful toys and merry play;
Fanciful pictures of rare delight,
Of verdant Helds and skies that are bright-
Oh! These are the dreams the children meet
Who travel each night to Slumber Street.

Oh, scores upon scores of weary heads
Peacefully resting in miles of beds!
Each pair of eyelids is closed up tight,
And each pair of eyes is hid from sight,
Resting bodies and tired little feet--
This is the business of Slumber Street

Arthur J. Burdick

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Copyright 2002 Whitehern Historic House and Garden
The development of this website was directed by Mary Anderson, Ph.D. and Janelle Baldwin, M.A.
Please direct questions and comments to Mary Anderson, Ph.D.

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