Literary women, whose avocation is selected simply because they fancy it easier to write than to sew for bread, or because they covet the applause and adulation heaped upon successful genius, or desire mere notoriety, generally barter their birthright of quiet, life-long happiness in the peaceful seclusion of home for a nauseous mess of poisoned pottage that will not appease their hunger; and they go down to untimely graves disappointed, imbittered, hating the public for whose praises they toiled, cheated out of the price for which they bargained away fireside joys and domestic serenity.
The fondest hope of Edna's heart was to be useful in "her day
and generation"--to be an instrument of some good to her race; and
while she hoped for popularity as an avenue to the accomplishment of her
object, the fear of ridicule and censure had no power to deter her from
the line of labor upon which she constantly invoked the guidance and
blessing of God.