The Psalmist exclaims:  “Let the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness; and let him reprove me; it shall be an excellent oil,” but the average representative of the nineteenth century will not echo his sentiment.  It may be that the “righteous” of that day had a more agreeable way of offering reproof than have the modern saints.  However that may be, the “excellent oil” seems to have given place to corrosive sublimate and carbolic acid—­neither of which, applied in an undiluted form, may be even remotely suspected of soothing an open wound.  True, they are fatal to bacteria, but at the same time they madden the sufferer as would coals of living fire.

Even supposing one lays herself open to the charge of flattery, is it not less of a fault than to merit the reputation for brutal fault-finding?  Who would not rather be a healer than a scarifier?

“Faithful may be the wounds of a friend” (and on this word “friend” I lay special stress), but the converse is also true.  Faithful are his healings.  Have you never had a whole day brightened by some seemingly chance remark which warmed the cockles of your heart with a delicious glow?  It may have been that you were disappointed in some cherished scheme—­how much disappointed no one guessed and you were ashamed to confess.  It may have been that you were struggling to be brave and cheerful under some trial, the weight of which you thought others could not appreciate.  The cheering word may only have been—­“My dear, how sweet you are looking to-day!  You do my old eyes good.”  Or perhaps an appreciative other-half has pressed your hand and whispered, “You are the bravest little woman in the world!” Who does not remember how, at such a time, the unexpected sympathy or encouragement brought the quick tears to the eyes, and to the cheeks the flush which meant a bound of joy from the heavy heart?  If we could but remember that we are told to “speak the truth in love!” In “love,” recollect,—­not in temper.  Do not be the accursed one by whom the offences come.  They will come.  The Evil One will look out for that, but it is not worth while for you to make his work too easy.  Determine to train yourself strictly to see the many excellent qualities possessed by your associates, and you will be surprised to find that before long the disagreeable traits will only appear as foils for the good.  Cultivate an eye for pleasant characteristics, and do not encourage people who are prone to rough speech.  Frown down the blunt expression of opinion and it will cease to be considered praiseworthy frankness.  The woman of whom the Royal Preacher speaks, “in whose tongue was the law of kindness,” probably showed that kindness by being agreeable, or we may be sure no human being of the masculine gender would have considered her price far above rubies; nor add with such sublime confidence—­“her husband also, and he praises her.”

One such woman never forgot to thank anyone for the slightest favor, and I have seen a burly and phlegmatically sombre policeman smile with unexpected pleasure at receiving the sweet-faced “thank you!” with which she always acknowledged his pilotage over a crowded street-crossing.