the
ban of society forbids that you say to a penitent sin-sick
sister, "Go and sin no more," if you must consign her to the life
of infamy which inevitably follows the deaf ear which you turn
upon her appeal, then do it; but in God's name do not turn around
and throw open the doors of your homes and welcome to the
sanctity of your family altars the man who enticed her to ruin.
Ah, woman, by your tireless efforts you may win the right to
vote, your voice may be heard in the Assembly Halls of the
Nation; but if you administer as one-sided a justice in political
life as you do in social life, the reform for which you pray will
never come!

WOULD YOU CARE?

All day on my pillow I wearily lay,
With a stabbing pain at my heart,
With throbbing temples, and a feverish thirst
Burning, my lips apart.
If I longed for a touch of your soft, strong hand,
For you one little minute there;
For a smile, or a kiss, or a word to bless,
Would you blame me, love?--would you care?

When the long, long, lonesome day was done,
And you never for a moment came,
If I tried to shut you out of my heart,
Impatient at your name;
If disappointment's bitter sting
Was harder than pain to bear,
If I turned away with a doubting frown,
Would you blame me, love?--would you care?

Should I die to-night, and you saw me not
Again till my soul had fled
With its vain request, and my features wore
The white hue of the dead--
Would you place just once, in a last caress,
Your hand on my death-damp hair?
Would you give me a thought, or a fond regret?
Would you kiss me, love?--would you care?

A THOUGHT OF HEAVEN.

Friend of my heart, you say to me
That your belief is this--
The heaven is but a vision rare
Of pure, ethereal bliss.

And life there but a dream enhanced,
Where never sound alarms;
Where flowers ne'er fade and skies ne'er cloud,
And voiceless music charms--

And save as see we in our dreams
The dear ones gone before,
The friends that here we knew and loved,
We'll know and love no more.

An endless and unbroken rest,
Nor change, nor night, nor day,
Where aimless, as in sleep, we'll dream
Eternity away.

Sweet friend of mine, that Heaven of thine
Methinks if overblest;
We could not work on earth enough
To need so long a rest.

Our human nature could not be
Content with rest like this,
And even bliss could cloy, if we
Had nothing else but bliss.

Great Nature's ha