<SPAN name="To_Miss_Jane_Carter"></SPAN>
<h2>To Miss Jane Carter</h2>
<p class="c3">Of the W.C.T.U.<br/>
</p>
<p>And so, my dear Jane, I have fallen from my pedestal, in your
estimation. Yet, having carefully regarded myself in the mirror,
and finding no discolorations, and feeling no wounds or contusions,
I think my pedestal must have been very near the earth, else I
would be conscious of some bruises.
</p>
<p>And now, Jane, to be frank, I am very glad to be off my perch.
</p>
<p>I do not want to dwell upon a pedestal.
</p>
<p>It necessitates a monotonous life, and it is an unsocial
position.
</p>
<p>I prefer to walk on the earth, among my fellow creatures.
</p>
<p>You were greatly shocked, I saw, when I told my little Russian
guest that she might light her cigarette in my boudoir. Your sudden
departure told its own story, and your letter was no surprise. But
I am glad you wrote me so frankly, as it gives me the opportunity
to be equally frank.
</p>
<p>There is nothing more beneficial, in true friendship, than a
free exchange of honest criticisms.
</p>
<p>You tell me that I lowered my standard by lending countenance to
a pernicious and unladylike habit. You felt I owed it to myself, as
a good woman, and to my home, as a respectable house, to show my
unswerving principles in this matter, and to indicate my
disapproval of a disgusting vice, which is growing in our midst.
</p>
<p>Life is too short, my dear Jane, in which to achieve all our
ideals, and to arrive at all our goals.
</p>
<p>I have learned the futility of attempting to reform the whole
world in one day. And I have also learned that there are more roads
than one, to all destinations.
</p>
<p>Miss Ordosky is the daughter of a dear old friend of my youth,
who married a Russian nobleman with more titles than dollars.
</p>
<p>Her parents are dead, and Wanda has come to her mother's native
land, to teach her father's language. She has come with all her
Russian habits and ideas accented by her mother's American
indifference to public opinion. The girl is young, lovely, and
wholly dependent upon herself for a livelihood. I invited her to be
my guest for two months, before establishing herself in her
business, with the hope of helping her to adapt herself somewhat to
American ideas and customs.
</p>
<p>I could never hope for such a result, had I antagonized her the
first day under my roof by an austere attitude toward a habit which
I knew she had been reared to think proper.
</p>
<p>I do not like to see a woman smoke, and I regret as much as you
do the increasing prevalence of the vice in America.
</p>
<p>Like almost every schoolgirl, I had my day of thinking a
surreptitious, cigarette was wonderfully cunning.
</p>
<p>That day passed, like the measles and the whooping-cough, and
left me immune. I have never seen a woman so beautiful and alluring
that she was not less charming when she put a cigarette to her
lips. I am confident the habit vitiates the blood, injures the
digestion, and renders the breath offensive. I have known many
American men who taught their wives to smoke; and I do not know
<i>one</i> who has not lived to regret it, when the cigarette he
fancied would be an occasional luxury became a necessity.
</p>
<p>A woman who expects ever to bring children into the world, is
little better than a criminal to form such a habit: for, argue as
we may for one moral code for both sexes, we cannot change nature's
law, which imposes the greater responsibility upon the mother of
the unborn child; the child she carries so many months beneath her
heart, giving it hour by hour the impression of her mental and
physical conditions.
</p>
<p>Fathers ought not to smoke or indulge in other bad habits.
</p>
<p><i>Mothers must not</i>.
</p>
<p>I hope in time to discuss these topics with Wanda, and to make
an impression upon her mind by my arguments.
</p>
<p>But your methods and mine, dear Jane, differ widely. And,
begging your pardon, I believe mine accomplish more good for a
larger number of human beings than yours.
</p>
<p>And, added to that fact, I get more happiness for myself out of
life.
</p>
<p>Miss Ordosky would have managed to smoke her cigarette, however
rigid had I been in expressing my principles. And she would have
found some excuse to shorten her visit under my roof, and then
where would be my opportunity to influence her?
</p>
<p>As it is, she puffs her cigarette in my company, listens to my
opinions, seems to respect my ideas, and is interested in my views
of life. We are becoming excellent comrades, and this is far more
gratifying to me than to know that I had antagonized her into a
formal acquaintance by my aggressive morality. I have an idea that,
before my pretty guest reaches the time when she will consider
wifehood and motherhood as life professions, I may convince her
from a scientific standpoint that she better abandon her
cigarettes. And to convince one's mind is far better than to drive
one to submission.
</p>
<p>And now, Jane, has it never occurred to you that you have made
some mistakes in life by the very methods you are so sorry I did
not pursue with Miss Ordosky?
</p>
<p>Years ago, I recall your surrounding a certain young man with an
aureole of idealism. Then you were obliged to dethrone him from his
pedestal because he, too, forsooth, smoked a cigar.
</p>
<p>That young man married a woman quite as worthy and good as
yourself, and he has made the best of husbands and citizens. I know
of no man who does more good in the world in a quiet way than this
same unpedestaled old admirer of yours. Whether he still smokes his
cigar or not I could not say. But as a man, it seems to me, he is
quite as worthy and noble a citizen, as you are a woman.
</p>
<p>I know that you are doing all you can, to spread the gospel of
clean living abroad in the land, and that your influence is all for
a higher standard of morality.
</p>
<p>But if you live on too high an altitude, in this world, and
refuse to associate with any one who will not climb up to your
plane, you are destined to a lonely life, and your sphere of
influence is limited. You will do far more good by taking your
place with other human beings, and by gradual, sane efforts leading
the thoughts of your associates to turn to your wholesome ideas of
life. You are making morality unpopular by your present aggressive
methods. And you are missing many sweet friendships and experiences
by your insistence that all your friends must follow the narrow
path you have decided is the only road to good behaviour.
</p>
<p>Come down from your pedestal, my dear Jane—come and dwell on the
earth.
</p>
<p>THE END.</p>
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