s, here is your shining example. "There were no apologies
at that table," we are told. "If unexpected guests were not always
filled, they were never annoyed, nor suffered to think much about it."
"I remember," says a guest, "the wonder I felt at her humility and
dignity in welcoming to her table on some occasion a troop of
accidental guests, when she had almost nothing to offer but her
hospitality. The absence of all apologies and of all mortification,
the ease and cheerfulness of the conversation, which became the only
feast, gave me a lesson never forgotten, although never learned."

The problem of dress was as simple to Mrs. Ware as was the
entertainment of her guests. "As to her attire," says an intimate
friend, "we should say no one thought of it at all, because of its
simplicity, and because of her ease of manners and dignity of
character. Yet the impression is qualified, though in one view
confirmed, by hearing that, in a new place of residence, so plain was
her appearance on all occasions, the villagers suspected her of
reserving her fine clothes for some better class." There are those who
might consider these circumstances, very sore privations. What Mrs.
Ware says of them is, "I have not a word of complaint to make. We are
far better provided for than is necessary to our happiness." I am
persuaded that this is an immensely wholesome example and that more of
this kind of woman is needed to mother the children of our generation.
In a letter to one of her daughters, she says she has great sympathy
with the struggles of young people, that she had struggles too and
learned her lessons young, that she found very early in life that her
own position was not in the least affected by these externals, "I soon
began to look upon my oft-turned dress with something like pride,
certainly with great complacency; and to see in that and all other
marks of my mother's prudence and consistency, only so many proofs of
her dignity and self-respect,--the dignity and self-respect which grew
out of her just estimate of the true and the right in herself and in
the world."

We have seen enough of this woman to discover that she could not be
made unhappy, and also to discover why. It was because her nature was
so large and strong and fine. Sometimes she thinks Dr. Ware would be
better and happier in a parish, "But I have no care about the future
other than that which one must have,--a desire to fulfil the duties
which it may bring." Su