d stories all her life without helping others half so much. Little,
weak, frivolous girls became strong, fine women simply from daily
contact with her. She did not realize that. She only knew that she loved
the girls and that they loved her. She did know that she helped her
family--with her money. Her spirit helped them unconsciously still more.

When at last she gave up the minor aim of her life, and no longer tried
to be learned or famous, she had her energies set free for many little
things which had previously been crowded out. It was easy now to find a
leisure hour to help any one who needed sympathy. There was time to
watch the beauty of the sunset or of the falling snow. If she had no
time to scramble through a volume of a new poet, she could still learn
line by line some favorite old poem, and let it sink into her heart, so
that it did its work thoroughly. If she could not find time to learn the
history of all the artists from the time of Phidias to the last New York
exhibition, yet when a beautiful picture was before her she could look
at it thoughtfully without feeling that she must hurry on to the next.
In this way, perhaps, she gained a more absolute culture than in the way
she would have chosen, a culture of thought and character which told on
every one who came near her.

She was always climbing up towards God, and his help never failed her.
The climbing was hard, yet the pathway was radiant with light. Those who
were stumbling along in the darkness by her side saw the light and were
able to walk erect.

I cannot say she was altogether happy with so many of her fine powers
unused. Perhaps she was not even quite right in sacrificing herself
completely. Sometimes she fostered selfishness in others while she tried
to cast it out of herself. But so far as she could see she had no
choice. If she had refused the sacrifice, it would have been by giving
up the grand aim of her life. Her minor aim was good in itself, but it
conflicted with something better. Those who did not know her life
intimately thought it a failure. Those who saw deeper knew that her
utter failure in what was non-essential had been the condition of
essential success.

I remember another brilliant girl who did win her way. She was poor and
plain and friendless, but she won wealth and fame and friends, and then,
with all this success, she blossomed into beauty. She had a struggle,
but she came out victorious. I think she was happy. She was