"It is my last day in London," said Alice Harper to herself.
The "last day" was a Sunday at the end of July, and Alice's box was
packed, and ready for travelling. She had attended service that morning
in a beautiful church, where she had often gained strength and comfort
in her weariness; and the music was still echoing in her ears when she
turned into Bruton Street. Wherever she went, she knew that she should
hear that music still.
The smart people were all hurrying out of town as fast as they could
go. But Miss de Vigny was a very dignified little lady who never cared
to hurry herself in the least. She always went away on the first of
August, and could not be moved sooner or later. So that when Alice went
into her house, she found her friend sitting in her old chair near the
window with an open book on her lap.
Miss de Vigny had always liked Alice Harper. She had watched the girl
through the season that preceded the sudden change in her lot, and had
thought her distinctly genuine and courageous. She did not guess how
soon that quality of courage would be called into play; but when the
crash came, she was not surprised that Alice bore up bravely under the
blow.
One morning the daily papers announced the suicide of Mr. Harper, the
well-known promoter of companies. His daughter, left quite alone in the
world, gathered together her few possessions, and quietly vanished from
the eyes of society. Only two or three persons knew what had become of
her, or what she was doing, and Miss de Vigny was one of them.
She had found out that Alice was going to be a dressmaker, and take
care of herself in future in her own way. Miss de Vigny met her one
day in a side street in the West-end, dressed in plain black, and
carrying a brown-paper parcel. She did not avoid the little maiden-lady
as she would have avoided some of her former friends. She stopped and
accepted the hand that was held out so readily.
"I shall be eighteen months in learning my business," she said. "After
that I must work six months longer as 'an improver.' And when I have
thoroughly mastered the art, or trade, or anything that you like to
call it, I mean to go away, and set up in the country."
"Quite in the country?" Miss de Vigny asked.
"Quite in the country," Alice replied. "I shall learn what London can
teach me, and leave it with a glad heart. Mind, I am sure that I could
not learn properly anywhere else. But I shall rejoice when I am free to
go."
"When the time comes, perhaps I can help you," Mary de Vigny said.
"Meanwhile, let me see you sometimes. Come and spend next Sunday with
me in Bruton Street."
"But I do not want to meet people," said Alice, flushing deeply.
"My dear, I do not want you to meet people. It will do me good to have
you all to myself. I have never been a society woman; the smart people
don't find me at all amusing, I believe. I am dowdy, and I do not know
any good stories. Pray come."
So Alice went. Miss de Vigny was rather dowdy, and she did not know any
good stories; but she knew other things that are better worth knowing.
She knew how to guide a sad soul into the true way of peace. She was
neither a rich woman, nor a smart woman; but she lived a life worthy of
her faith, and was a light to direct others to the road that led to
rest.
From Mary de Vigny's house, Alice went to Mary de Vigny's church close
by. And so the two toilsome years in London were sweetened and cheered;
and if her outer life was hard and painful, her inner life became
peaceful and fair. The time of release had come at last, and it was
Mary who had found her a new home in the country.
Miss de Vigny's room was cooler than most rooms in London, and when you
went in you felt you had entered into an atmosphere of contentment.
There were always flowers here; to-day Alice's eyes rested gratefully
on a big bunch of mignonette and some graceful feathery grasses. Mary
greeted her with genuine affection, and pointed to the nosegay.
"Only think what it will be," said she, "to have your fill of flowers!"
"Oh, I have been trying to realise the delight in store for me!" Alice
cried. "My poor father never cared for the country in the very least.
He always bustled me about to fashionable watering-places in the
summer. If my mother had lived, life would have been different for him
and for me."
She sighed; but Mary spoke cheerfully.
"We must let all the 'ifs' alone, Alice," she said. "It is better to
leave 'ifs' and 'might-have-beens' lying by the wayside if we want to
get on upon our journey. I know how prone we are to stop, and pick up
useless regrets; it has been an old folly of my own."
They had tea together, with the mignonette on the table between them.
Miss de Vigny said it was like a festival, but she thought Alice
looking tired and worn.
"I don't think you could have toiled on much longer," she remarked.
"It has been a weary time, my child."
"You have brightened it," said Alice gratefully. "Everybody else has
forgotten me, and you know I wished to be forgotten."
"Here and there one remembers you," said Mary, looking at her with
observant eyes. "Only yesterday, in this very street, I met someone who
asked what had become of you."
"I hope you did not tell!" Alice cried.
"I told very little. I merely said that you were living, and working
for yourself. It was Mr. Cardigan who asked for you."
Alice's mouth took a scornful curve.
"I do not like him," said she. "I detest rich men."
Miss de Vigny shook her head in reproof.
"That is rather a hard saying, my dear. For my own part, I think well
of Robert Cardigan. He is natural--refreshingly natural, and I fancy he
wants to know what to do with his money. After all, that money came to
him in an honest way from a relation who died abroad; I do not see why
it should not wear well."
"Perhaps I am prejudiced," said Alice colouring. "I have not liked
what I have seen of rich men. Most of them always wanted to be richer
still, and hovered round my father to be instructed in investments. Mr.
Cardigan only came into his fortune just before the blow fell upon me.
But I thought he was like all the rest."
Miss de Vigny dropped the subject. She was not a woman of many words,
and generally knew when to hold her peace.
Alice walked to church with her a little later, looking very stately
and erect beside her small companion. People had always regarded Alice
Harper as a proud girl; and there was something in her bearing which
certainly suggested pride. Plain clothes only accentuated her air of
distinction. And this evening, although she was very pale, and there
were dark shadows beneath her grey eyes, she was more beautiful than
she had ever been in the days of prosperity.
Adversity either disfigures or beautifies. There are certain full-fed,
insolently-prosperous girls who would be enormously improved by sorrow.
Many a plain face has been made lovely by the chastening of the spirit;
and Miss de Vigny, who did not possess a single good feature, had a
countenance on which, at the first glance, you could read the sweet
record of inward peace. She had suffered meekly, and had come out of
the strife into the rest.
Afterwards, when they parted at the door in Bruton Street, Mary said
"good-bye" very tenderly to her friend. She knew that she would miss
Alice when she came back to town in the autumn. But above all things
she desired that the girl might have peace after the weary struggle to
learn her business. One had only to look at Alice to see that she was a
woman who would do what she meant to do. But these resolute people do
not succeed without paying the cost of their success.
"I know you will be happy at Swallow's Nest," Mary said confidently. "I
have often told you how long Mrs. Bower lived with my mother, and how
good and faithful she was. Some day I shall run down to the farm and
see you all. You will write soon, dear, will you not?"
Alice did not find it very easy to answer. Her grey eyes were full of
tears. She looked earnestly at Miss de Vigny for a moment, and went her
way.
There was something dream-like about the London streets in the evening
light. And Alice, walking back to the home which had sheltered her for
two years, felt as if she, herself, were someone who had been living in
a dream.
She thought of the only child of the rich man, brought up in a
luxurious home, but always pining for the mother who had been early
lost. She saw again those sunny heights of womanhood which the child's
eyes had seen afar off. How bright they were then! Something of the
old splendour lingered about that cloudland still, although the girl
had become a sorrowful, hardworking woman. She smiled pityingly at the
child who had always dreamed of doing beautiful things, and making
everybody happy when she grew up! And yet, perhaps the pity was
wasted after all. There are the elements of true happiness in many an
unselfish dream. We cannot tell how much we have helped others by the
loving desires that we could not shape into deeds. We do not see what
our good angels are doing, even with the thoughts of our hearts, when
they are sweet and true.
And then came a sudden remembrance of the men who had come to her
father's house in Park Lane--men who had shown by their faces and by
their words that they existed only for self-pleasing. The quiet girl,
with her own aims and ideals, had inwardly despised them all. Robert
Cardigan had been, perhaps, a little better than the rest. She could
recall certain looks and tones of his that had seemed real. He had even
listened, with some interest, to those schemes for helping humanity
which she had spoken of, once or twice, in his hearing. Well, the power
that she had longed for had come to him; but it was doubtful if he
would use it as she would have done.
The child and the girl had both passed away; Alice Harper, dressmaker,
was walking through these West End streets to the home for working
women which had been her refuge for two long years. And Alice Harper,
dressmaker, was going to leave London to-morrow to live in the country.
She had never seen Mrs. Bower, but she knew her perfectly by
description. Mrs. Bower was the wife of a farmer; they had two
daughters who wanted to learn dressmaking; and there was a good opening
for business in their neighbourhood. Miss de Vigny had advised Alice to
go to Swallow's Nest.
"If you get tired of the country you can leave it," she had said. "But
you have an instinctive longing for woods and fields and fresh air, and
you are sorely in need of all these blessings."
The big house was generally quiet on a Sunday evening. It was sultry
weather, and all the windows were opened wide. Alice caught a glimpse
of the new moon above the house-tops as she ran upstairs. It hung faint
and golden over the crowded roofs, in a sky touched with pale crimson,
and dim with mist.
"I shall see it to-morrow above the woods," she thought with a sudden
gladness.
She took off her hat and coat in her cubicle, and ran down to supper
in her muslin blouse and tweed skirt. Not a single person in that full
house was acquainted with her real history. She had never talked of
bygone days and lamented her vanished prosperity. She wore no jewels;
her watch was the sole relic of the past that could ever be seen. One
or two had remarked that it was a very beautiful watch, and she had
simply said that it was a gift from someone who was dead.
But in spite of a strong natural reserve she had made many friends.
Living here, a poor woman among the poor, she had learnt that one must
give love if one cannot give money.
"So you are going to leave us, Miss Harper," said a young girl who sat
beside her at supper. "You will be missed for many a day. There are
kindnesses that we never forget."
"Ah, if only I could have been more helpful," Alice sighed.
"You don't know how much you have helped," the other answered. "People
may give gold, and it may go just as far as gold can. That is a long
way, some will say. Well, so it is, but even the long way has a limit.
There is only one thing that is not hindered by any limit at all. It
flies on, far, far beyond Time, and right into Eternity. It is Love."
[Illustration: "MISS DE VIGNY HAD ALWAYS LIKED ALICE HARPER."]
Alice looked attentively at the girl for a moment. She was a puny young
woman with round shoulders and a narrow chest. Her skin was very fair,
and she had the large luminous eyes which often indicate consumption.
"How did you learn so much, Miss Dayne?" asked she with a smile.
"Just by watching life," was the reply. "I do not think that we shall
ever meet here again. I am going a longer journey than you are. And
yet, who knows? Perhaps it may not be so very far."
Alice had arranged to start on Monday by a very early train. She left
the house before any of the other women had come downstairs. Her box
was in the hall; she had supplied herself with some sandwiches, and
could have a cup of tea at the station. So she was driven through the
streets before the shops were open, or London had shaken off such
sleep as it can get. She reached Waterloo in time to drink her tea, and
secure a comfortable corner in a third-class carriage.
When the train began to move out of the station she was still thinking
of herself as Alice Harper, the dressmaker, going to start afresh in a
new sphere. The former Alice was merely the girl of the dream.
She smiled, rather a forlorn little smile, when she called up a vision
of the dream--Alice, travelling first-class, and wearing a lovely, grey
costume, as costly and as daintily simple as it could possibly be. The
dressmaker was arrayed in a coat and skirt of pepper-and-salt tweed
which would stand any amount of wear and tear, and a pink calico shirt.
Her gloves were carefully mended; a very serviceable umbrella and
sunshade were strapped up with a plain waterproof cloak; she had none
of those charming superfluities which a well-to-do woman seldom goes
without. And yet it was a peaceful face that was shaded by the sailor
hat; and as the train rushed on into the sweet, green country her eyes
grew very bright.
"I am going where I shall get lots of pleasant things without paying
for them," she said to herself. "In London you must pay your penny for
the simplest flower that grows. Ah, the good God must have thought of
the poor when He purpled the wild land with the glory of heather!"
(_To be continued._)
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
MEDICAL.
BERNICE.--Beyond taking plenty of exercise, feeding as well as you
can, and attending to the general laws of health, we cannot tell you
of any other means of obtaining what you desire. A diet with plenty of
farinaceous food, milk puddings, etc., would suit you best.
MARY CARMICHAEL.--The public has been completely fogged over the
subject of tinned meats for years past. Some persons have tried to
prove that tinned articles are better than fresh ones; whilst others
have decided that all preserved foods are poisonous, and that those
who partake of them do so at the risk of their lives. As is usual in
such arguments, the truth lies somewhere between these extreme points,
and we will endeavour to explain what are the various good and bad
qualities of tinned foods. In the first place, we must notice that
tinned eatables are very much better now than they were some years ago.
This is particularly the case with the tinned fruits from California
(the preparation of which is, we believe, entirely carried on by
girls). For some years back we have been able to get tinned pears,
peaches, apricots, etc., from California, and, as far as we can find
out, no case of poisoning has occurred from their consumption. It may
be said that all the tinned articles which are allowed to come into
London are perfectly wholesome while they are fresh; it is only after
they have been kept some time that they become injurious. Again, it
must be remembered that tinned goods will not keep when once the tin
has been opened. A large number of deaths have occurred from eating
tinned meats which have been opened several days previously. It is
of great importance to recognise what the poison in tinned meats is,
and where it comes from. There is a popular notion, which is a very
great fallacy, that the poison is derived from the tins, and that
therefore there is no danger in meats preserved in jars or barrels.
This is a great mistake, for although tinned goods do sometimes become
contaminated with the metal of the tins, this is only very seldom the
case. When the poison is derived from the tins, as it was in some cases
of poisoning from tinned cherries, death is not very common. Whence
comes the poison, of which we all read cases, of whole families being
killed from partaking from a tin of salmon or sardines? It is developed
in the food itself. This is not a case of organic matter going bad
from decay. Articles sealed up in airtight tins will never undergo
putrefaction. This development of poisons in tinned meats is a totally
different phenomenon from putrefaction. It appears that if organic
substances are kept for a long time, whether in the air or in airtight
cases, extraordinary and little-understood changes occur in their
composition, whereby, amongst other things, are developed definite
chemical compounds known as "animal alkaloids." These are the poisonous
agents in tinned goods. These alkaloids are allied, chemically, to
strychnine, morphine, etc., but some of them are immeasurably more
poisonous than any known vegetable or mineral production. A quantity of
one of these alkaloids (occasionally found in tinned sardines), which
is so small as to be almost impossible to demonstrate, has killed a
whole family in twenty-four hours. Bottled fruits occasionally become
poisoned by the use of preservatives such as boracic or salicylic acid.
M. H. B.--Yours is a history which has been only too common after
influenza. You would probably derive benefit from a change of air. We
should advise a short stay at the north or east coast of Kent. Margate
would perhaps be too severe for you, but we think that you could
scarcely do better than go to Folkestone or its neighbourhood. The
medicine that you are taking is about as good as any other for your
trouble. Eat well.
A. E. ROBINSON.--It is of great importance to keep false teeth
scrupulously clean, and it is the lack of this precaution which is
the cause of most of the troubles due to false teeth. The artificial
palate is perhaps more difficult to keep clean when made of vulcanite
than when made of metal, but otherwise one substance is as good as the
other. You should never sleep with your false teeth in your mouth. We
have lately heard of a lady who was suffocated from her false teeth
having slipped out of place during sleep. False teeth should be taken
out every evening and placed in water, or, better still, solution of
boracic acid, through the night. They should be carefully cleaned every
night. Some people leave their false teeth in their mouths for weeks
at a time. Particles of food get between the false palate and the roof
of the mouth, decompose, and cause very many unpleasant, and sometimes
serious results.
BEATTIE.--1. We cannot tell you the cause of your complaint. It is
probably a slight error of development.--2. Certainly there is no
reason why you should not marry a man who has got a stiff hip from
rheumatism.
DAISY.--See the answer to "Maud" in the May Part of THE GIRL'S OWN
PAPER.
IVY.--1. Yes: scurf on the head is seborrhœa. You should wash your head
every week in borax and warm water, and apply the sulphur ointment
afterwards to the roots of the hair only. This condition of seborrhœa
is most difficult to eradicate. As a rule, the best that can be done
by treatment is to keep it in check and prevent it from spreading to
the face.--2. Cocaine will remove most of the pain of having a tooth
extracted.
STUDY AND STUDIO.
SUNFLOWER.--We have read your letter and verses with interest. The poem
beginning, "There is no Death," suffers from a lack of attention to the
laws of metre. It is begun in ten-syllable lines, which occasionally
become twelve- and even fourteen-syllable lines. This is quite
inadmissible. The other two poems are better. The metre and the rhymes
are correct. There is some poetic feeling in "Twilight," and we like
your description of the "Friend" you long to have:--
"Gentle, and strong, and wise,
Loving, and tender and true,
Loyal to serve and to save,
Steadfast to dare and to do."
We shall be pleased to hear from you again.
BROWN EYES.--You should have written direct to the Comtesse Blanche de
Forestier, whose address we gave. She informs us that she has already
found a correspondent. You ask us to tell you of any faults we find
in your interesting letter. Your writing is rather large and untidy,
and inclined to sprawl down-hill, and the expression "a lot" is too
colloquial. Also the sentence beginning, "Deeply interested" needs "I
am" to make it grammatically correct. It is rather thankless work thus
to pull your letter to pieces, as we have read it with much pleasure,
and are glad your grandfather has lately given you a beautiful bicycle.
_O si sic omnes!_
VIOLET RENE GORDON.--We have always understood that the authoress in
question was unmarried, but as we do not know her personally we cannot
vouch for the fact. If anyone who does know her intimately tells you
so, you may of course believe it; but information that has filtered
through various channels is apt to be inaccurate.
ERIN and A LADY READER kindly send the words of "Pestal" by W. H.
Bellamy; and "Erin" informs "Pansy" that it is published as a solo by
Hutchings and Romer, arranged by C. E. Horn. "Erin" does not know if it
is to be had as a duet.
I. M. H.--Many years ago, Lytton Bulwer (afterwards Sir Bulwer Lytton)
wrote contemptuously of Tennyson, calling him "Miss Alfred." Tennyson
retorted by a most stinging satire on Bulwer, which, we believe, is to
be found in some early volume of _Punch_, but is not republished in
Tennyson's works. The extract you quote, containing the line:--
"And half the little soul is dirt"
comes from this satire. As it is suppressed, you may have difficulty in
finding it.
FIDELIA.--The verse you quote is from a poem of Christina Rossetti's
entitled "He and She." As the whole poem is very short we transcribe it
for you:--
"Should one of us remember,
And one of us forget,
I wish I knew what each will do--
But who can tell as yet?"
"Should one of us remember,
And one of us forget,
I promise you what I will do--
And I'm content to wait for you,
And not be sure as yet."
You will find it on page 328 of Messrs. Macmillan's 1892 edition of
"Poems: Christina G. Rossetti."
THE LILAC SUNBONNET.--You should try to obtain a situation "au pair"
in a Continental School, where you could teach English in return for
learning French. No premium or certificate is required. The only way
we know of obtaining such a position is to advertise in the provincial
journal of any town where you would like to go. See our former answers
to similar queries, when we have mentioned such papers as the _Gazette
de Lausanne_, _Journal de Génève_, _Feuille d'avis de Vevey_, etc.
MOTHER'S GIRL.--Your story is very well composed and neatly written.
The incident you describe is naturally told, with a good deal of right
feeling. We can honestly praise your work. It is very wise of young
writers only to undertake simple subjects with which they are familiar,
and a good schoolgirl story is worth any amount of sentimental nonsense.
A SEEKER.--1. Your friend's verses fail in metre: _e.g._, "Death makes
clearer the soul's view," is a halting line. The thought expressed
throughout is a solemn one, but the mode of expression is open to
criticism.--2. The difficulty you place before us is one in which we
have very great sympathy. If you have been sent to an Art School it is
certainly your duty to work hard there. But a change of occupation is
by no means always prejudicial to success; in fact, it is often helpful
even to the occupation which is laid aside for a time. For example, a
girl is likely to become no better a musician because she practises
every hour of the day, and neglects all besides. There comes a point
beyond which work is useless, and four or five hours well spent are
better than twelve. So with your drawing or painting; you will do it
no harm by laying it aside for awhile and lending a hand to household
tasks. There is often a tendency in eager students to overwork, and
see things out of their due proportion. You must try to keep the
balance true and not sacrifice character to ambition. You will do the
ambition itself no good by it. We may suggest that artistic talent is
very useful in millinery, and that, if need be, you should not despise
turning your gifts to account in designing some article of dress. There
is a wide field open to really artistic dressmakers; but, of course, on
this, we cannot advise you without further knowledge.
AN ARDENT READER, ROSY NELL.--We are glad to hear all you tell us, and
hope you may succeed in the needlework competition. We do not know the
comic ballad you mention on "A Snarling Wife," beginning, "O do be
still!" Are you sure it is worth hunting for? Would it not do you more
good to learn some poem of real beauty or interest?
GIRLS' EMPLOYMENTS.
AGNES (_Training for Children's Nurse_).--Your daughter is certainly
wise in deciding to become a children's nurse rather than a nursery
governess. Her gentle birth and education will be to her advantage in
seeking such a position; at the same time it is a pity that a regular
training cannot be afforded. Under the circumstances we would suggest
that your daughter should seek a situation under a lady nurse, who
would train her in the necessary duties. Such a situation is not
often to be heard of; nevertheless we think you might find one after
careful inquiry. For such purposes it would be better to apply to an
employment agency than to advertise. Through such public organisations
as the Central Bureau for the Employment of Women, 60, Chancery Lane,
W.C., and the Society for Promoting the Employment of Women, 22,
Berners Street, W., you might hear of a suitable vacancy. If you wish
to have the addresses of thoroughly trustworthy private, as well as
public registries, you cannot do better than order one of the lists
of registries from the Hon. Secretary of the Associated Guild of
Registries, 39, Victoria Street, S.W., enclosing three half-pence for
cost and postage. These lists have recently been issued for the first
time, and will gradually be extended. They promise to be of great
utility to parents and guardians as well as to young women who are
seeking employment. For registries vary much in character, and there
are some which experienced advisers would not at all recommend. We do
not answer privately, our answers being intended for the benefit of
readers of The "G. O. P." generally.
AMICUS (_Home Employment_).--We know of no society that exists for the
purpose of providing ladies with work to do at home, nor do we know of
any firm of cigarette manufacturers who give out work. Quite possibly
cigarette-making is undertaken by home-workers living in the immediate
neighbourhood of a manufactory; but manufacturers would hardly care to
send tobacco and paper a hundred miles away from their establishment.
We would suggest that you should learn typewriting and shorthand, and
then seek a situation as clerk in one of the manufactories in your own
city.
IVY and LORA (_Training for a Hospital Nurse_).--It is true that we
have repeatedly answered questions similar to yours. Nevertheless as
you have failed to observe these replies, we gladly respond to your
query. There is hardly any hospital to which you could be admitted
before the age of twenty-one--twenty-three or twenty-four is preferred
by most institutions. In general a probationer can enter either by
payment of a fee or by giving services free, or in return for only
a small salary the first year. You could apply to the matron of any
general hospital for rules of admission for nurses, if you enclosed
stamps for postage. Among the best training schools for nurses in
London are the London Hospital, St. Thomas's, St. Bartholomew's, King's
College, St. Mary's, and University College Hospitals.
ALPEDIAN, although a boy, takes great pleasure in reading THE GIRL'S
OWN PAPER. We are very glad to hear it, ALPEDIAN. Nevertheless we
cannot undertake to advise boys as well as girls in these columns.
However, in reply to your special questions, we may say that a boy must
be articled to a firm of solicitors for some years, and the fee is
usually a high one. Afterwards your prospects of success would depend
partly on yourself and partly on any connection you might possess among
barristers. A solicitor with no legal connection is apt to have an
uphill fight for work.
ANN (_Missionary Work_).--Missionary societies do not always insist
on candidates passing any examination, but they would only accept the
services of a young woman who had received a good general education.
Candidates for work in missions generally spend a period of probation
in some of the training schools. Further particulars could be obtained
from the Secretary of the Society for Promoting Female Education in the
East, 267, Vauxhall Bridge Road, S.W. To judge from your handwriting,
you are at present rather young to enter on such work as this. There is
always, however, plenty of useful work that girls may do among the poor
at home. Girls' Clubs, for instance, often require helpers.
MISCELLANEOUS.
LILY.--Your brother certainly shows great promise. He should, however,
try to perfect himself in mathematics, as architectural construction
depends greatly upon this science, and especially upon mechanics. He
should also sketch buildings from nature, and make measured drawings
of some building, a church or house or such like, and carefully read
works upon architecture, such, for instance as _The Glossary of
Architecture_, Fergusson's _Architectural Handbook_, Rosengarten's
_Handbook of Architectural Styles_ (translated by W. Collett-Sanders).
He would also gain some information from "Architecture, or the Art of
Buildings," published in THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER, October 24, 1885, to May
22, 1886, and contained in _The Girl's Own Annual_, commencing October
3, 1885. Although against our rules we return the drawings to you as
you requested for which you sent stamps, but you give a very meagre
address.
JESSIE.--The Egyptian-looking obelisk of which you speak, near
Forres, in Elginshire, called "Sueno's Stone," has puzzled many an
antiquary, and the opinions they have severally formed do not seem
at all unanimous as to its origin. It is a very remarkable one--the
broken remains standing 25 feet in height, and cut out of a block
of the hardest granite to be found in Scotland. The opinion of the
Rev. C. Cordiner (a distinguished antiquary of the last century)
was, that it was raised to commemorate the victory of the Scots over
the Scandinavian invaders, who had established themselves on the
neighbouring promontory of Burghead, in the 9th century. The monument
is covered with figures of armed men, some equestrian, with bows,
swords and spears, as well as a cross on the obverse side and sundry
other objects.
TOOTING GRAVENEY.--To water plants, such as rose trees, with tobacco
water is said to destroy blight.
LOTTIE.--We could not recommend anything for removing stains of
paraffin oil from a light-coloured dress. First, you do not name the
material; but, in any case, we always recommend the employment of some
trimming to cover the stain, or else the substitution of a new breadth.
Possibly a rearrangement of folds or pleats might conceal it.
AU DÉSESPOIR.--It is, as we have frequently told our readers, quite
impossible to teach French pronunciation otherwise than orally, as
their alphabet and ours are dissimilar in sound. In Latin it is
otherwise. Of the terms you name, however, we may give the sound with
our own letters. "Monsieur" is pronounced "Mus-yeu," not "Mus-you"; and
"Mademoiselle" as "Mad-moy-zelle." The syllable "ieur" is pronounced as
the word for "eyes" in French, viz., "yeux." Perhaps you know how to
pronounce that word. We are not acquainted with any other book on the
subject of phonetic pronunciation.
FATIMA (Smyrna).--1. There is no periodical with which we are
acquainted that is specially devoted to the question of hair-dressing.
Those on fashions in dress very usually add some remarks on any changes
with reference to the _coiffeur_. In THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER.--2. As to
the dangerous attempt to give additional brightness to the eyes by
artificial means, we greatly object to them. Some foolish, vain women,
employ belladonna--a drug that extends the pupil and injures the
eye. It should only be medically applied under a doctor's advice and
direction for certain complaints, not for the purpose of temporarily
enlarging the pupil. The eye is so delicate an organ, and sight so
exceedingly precious, that no experiments by amateurs should be
practised on it, especially for mere vanity' sake. We are always glad
to hear from our foreign friends, even if not subscribers. Your English
is excellent.
JOICE M. (second letter).--The several precious stones that are said by
the Poles to influence the twelve months of the year, respectively, are
as follows:--Jan., a garnet, representing constancy; Feb., an amethyst,
sincerity; March, jasper (or bloodstone), courage; April, a diamond,
innocence; May, an emerald, success in love; June, agate, health
and longevity; July, cornelian, content; August, sardony, conjugal
felicity; Sept., chrysolite, antidote to insanity; Oct., opal, hope;
Nov., topaz, fidelity; Dec., turquoise, prosperity. For this Polish
rendering of the question we have the authority of Dr. Brewer.
JUDIC.--The jewellery distinguished as "rococo," is usually made up
of several varieties of gems. Moorish decorations, and Watteau's
paintings, are in this style; also in furniture, that of Louis XIV.,
which is highly gilded; and ormolu, are called "rococo." The term is
of uncertain etymology. It prevailed more especially in France at the
close of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries, and was extended
to architecture and landscape-gardening. In the former it is a debased
style, which succeeded the revival of the Italian, and was very much in
vogue in Germany.
S. E. H.--1. Yes, Charles Dickens did write a History of England
designed for children.--2. Your handwriting is fairly good and very
legible, though scarcely yet a "running hand."
LULU.--There are classes held at least in three places in town for
instruction in book-keeping, amongst other things, namely, at the
College for Men and Women, 29, Queen Square, Bloomsbury, W.C.; apply to
the secretary at the College for Working Women, 7, Fitzroy Street, W.;
and at Birkbeck Literary and Scientific Institution, Bream's Buildings,
Chancery Lane and Fetter Lane, E.C. Address the secretary. You might
inquire respecting any book written on the subject at any of these
places.
MISS M. BANNERMAN.--There is a Ladies' Art Work Depôt at 251, Brompton
Road, S.W., address Lady Eden. There is another Work Society at 31,
Sloane Street, President, H.R.H. the Princess Louise; and a third,
Ladies' Work Society, of which the depôt is at 185, High Street,
Kensington, Hon. Sec. Miss K. Ford, Rock Moor, Yelverton, R.S.O., Devon.
M. ORME and M. E. MORRIS.--There are certain questions that do not come
within our province to answer. We regret we are unable to give you the
answers you desire.
MISERABLE.--Pray for divine help to break off your acquaintance with
such bad companions, and go to your clergyman (to the vestry of the
church), or to your minister, tell him your trouble and ask him to give
you his advice and follow it.
THE GIRL'S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS COMPETITION.
_For particulars as to this interesting Competition, in which every
reader will find it for her advantage to take part, see page 14 (No.
979)._
Questions 13-24.
13. When did the pianoforte first come into use?
* * * * *
14. What is the most polite nation in the world?
* * * * *
15. What is the nearest star to the earth?
* * * * *
16. What philosopher of antiquity married a shrew?
* * * * *
17. What flower, in the middle of the seventeenth century, became the
subject of a popular mania?
* * * * *
18. What is the best soil on which to build a house?
* * * * *
19. Did anyone ever swim across the Channel from England to France?
* * * * *
20. What great lady once in a temper cut off her long and beautiful
hair and flung it in her husband's face?
* * * * *
21. What is the origin of the name foolscap as applied to paper of a
certain size?
* * * * *
22. Have flowers ever been used as time-keepers?
* * * * *
23. What famous relic of antiquity on its way to this country nearly
found its last resting-place at the bottom of the sea?
* * * * *
24. Who was the famous carrier who gave rise to a proverb by always
making his customers take the horse nearest the stable door?
THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS, Nos. 13-24, together with the answers
to questions 1-12, which have already appeared, must be sent in on or
before the 30th of December, 1898.
ENTHUSIASM: AN ADDRESS TO SCHOOL-GIRLS.
BY ELIZABETH A. S. DAWES, M.A., D.Lit.
"Let a man contend to the uttermost
For his life's prize, be it what it will."
_Browning._
"Strive for the truth unto death" (Eccles. iv. 28).
"Ye have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin" (Hebr.
xii. 4).
I propose to address to the readers of this magazine a few words on
the subject of "enthusiasm in a good cause;" for undoubtedly a lack of
hearty, honest enthusiasm, a general "slackness," both in character
and conduct, is a sad characteristic of too many of the present-day
girls and young women. For this reason, therefore, I have chosen for
you three quotations, all of which speak of the duty of enthusiasm
in a good cause, or, in other words, of striving with all our might
to accomplish our life's purpose, or for the truth, or in the battle
against sin.
Now I can imagine someone asking, "Why should we be enthusiastic? What
is the good of it?" and to this question I would reply by giving as
the three chief reasons: firstly, that nothing great or good can be
accomplished without enthusiasm; secondly, enthusiasm in a good cause
is one of the chief means of forming and ennobling the character; and
thirdly, that it is commanded and commended by Christ.
To prove the truth of my first reason, you need only turn your thoughts
to the world's history, and recall to your memory the many enthusiastic
workers and fighters--"fanatics," as the world often mockingly calls
them--who have striven, often literally unto death, to promote some
good cause or establish some truth, and then ask yourselves, "Would
they have accomplished what they did if they had been lukewarm, and
half-hearted in their work, and daunted by every fresh obstacle that
beset their path?" No, they would not; for, as you all know, obstacles
there are in plenty, and, as a Greek writer says, "It is only true
enthusiasm which can overcome all obstacles; it is not the power, but
the will and the desire which are often wanting in us."
As illustrations of enthusiasts think of St. Paul with his tremendous
missionary energy, Socrates, Wilberforce, John Howard, and, in our
days, of the women, the "pioneers," who fought against apparently
insuperable difficulties for the opening of the medical profession and
a university career for themselves and other women.
Secondly, enthusiasm in a good cause forms and moulds the mind by
giving it some definite object of pursuit, which prevents aimlessness
of purpose, waste of time and capabilities, and selfishness; it
ennobles it by raising it above trivial or low thoughts, by attuning
it to higher melodies than those of this earth, and by breeding in
it single-mindedness and fostering sincerity, "which is the first
characteristic of all men in any way heroic" (Carlyle). Browning and
Michael Angelo, two powerful workers themselves, bear testimony to this
ennobling influence of enthusiasm, for the former in his _Saul_ writes--
"'Tis not what man does which exalts him,
But what man would do,"
and the latter, "Nothing makes the soul so pure, so religious, as the
endeavour to create something perfect; for God is perfection, and
whoever strives for perfection strives for something that is God-like."
My third reason scarcely needs comment, for all will instantly recall
the command that "men should always pray and not faint," His parable
of the importunate widow, and His commendation of Mary because "she
hath done what she could" and had brought her best to her Lord. But
apart from what He said, ought not the whole life of "the Perfect Head
and Pattern of Mankind" to be a direct incentive to enthusiasm?
Next, I would suggest some subjects for enthusiasm.
One which should throw its glamour over us all, and should spur us
ever onward and upward, is "the great thought of our immortality," or,
as a writer puts it, "We must shape our life under the government of
the life to come," however many difficulties there may be in trying to
do so. And, if we are brought under the spell of this great thought,
it creates enthusiasm, for "to keep before us the real outlook of the
soul is to refuse persistently to drift with the stream. We have to
take care to watch wisely and sternly over our wills, to keep our eye
on the spring of our actions, to be careful about the decisions we
make, and to be earnest in watching against mere slackness of will in
carrying out those decisions which we know to be right." And if this
thought--which yet was to them no definite thought, but only a misty
conception and the vaguest of hopes--exercised such domination over
the souls of some of the ancient heathens as to cause them to lead
spotless, blameless lives, what should its effect be on us now, who
know that it is no idle fancy, but a thing to hold and live by?
Further, I like to see people enthusiastic about their family and home,
about the ordinary duties that lie to hand, about the place in which
they live, and so on. For assuredly nothing is more hateful--the word
is strong, but it is the right one--nothing, I repeat, is more hateful
than to hear girls disparaging their mothers with remarks such as, "Oh,
mother does not understand us modern girls, she is so old-fashioned,
you know; I never ask her opinion about anything," or to hear them
complain that there is no scope for their energies in their own homes.
Such as these should remember Archbishop Trench's sonnet beginning--
"Thou cam'st not to thy place by accident;
It is the very place God meant for thee;
And should'st thou there small scope of action see
Do not for this give room to discontent."
While at school be enthusiastic for it and its customs, and, if you
think it not all it should be, work your hardest at rendering it more
worthy of your enthusiasm, and while there set the example of doing the
lessons and playing at the games with enthusiasm.
But the crucial moment comes when you leave school and become more
or less your own mistress--for while you are at school your time is
apportioned out to various duties, and the development of individual
bents and tendencies can necessarily not be allowed such free play as
they can revel in when school-days are over--and then it is for you to
show whether you mean to pass your days in "doing nothing much" either
at home or outside, or whether you recognise your own greatness as an
immortal, and intend to do at least something or other in this world
well.
And here a word of caution must be inserted against allowing enthusiasm
for one pursuit to lead to the neglect of other duties. "There is
the story of a friar who set to work to illuminate the pages of the
Apocalypse in his zeal and love for God. He became so absorbed in
this work that he neglected the poor and sick, who were suffering and
dying in the plague. He came at last to the painting of the face of
his Lord, but his hand lost its skill. He wondered why, and realised
that it was because, in his eagerness to paint his pictures, he had
neglected his poor. Humiliated by this discovery, he laid aside his
brushes and went down to minister to the sick and dying. He wrought on
untiringly till he himself was smitten down. Then he tottered back to
his cell to finish his loved work before he died. He knelt in prayer
to ask help, when lo! he saw that an angel's hand had completed the
picture of the Lord in a manner far surpassing human skill." It is only
a legend, but its lesson is well worthy your serious thought.
Again, contemplate the effect your enthusiasm will have on those around
you. One great and vital element in enthusiasm is hope--hope which
endures under rebuffs, derision, and in spite of apparent failure. Now
hope is most infectious, and when others, whose spirits are perchance
drooping, and hearts failing for the heaviness of their duties and
the weight of their troubles, see that you always maintain an ardent
determination to accomplish your purpose, a cheerful spirit, and
a smiling, hopeful face, they will feel their courage renewed and
will resume their burden with re-invigorated strength. This idea is
beautifully expressed by Mrs. Browning in the lines on "Work"--
"Then others shall
Take patience, labour to their heart and hand,
From thy heart and thy hand and thy brave cheer."
I will conclude by reminding you that, alongside of enthusiasm on one
and several other points, you must, be you strong or weak, rich or
poor, cherish undying enthusiasm for "friendship's ministry," which
is the half of your solemn duty of service to God. So many people
forget that it is not enough to feel love or affection for others
unless they also show it and thus give pleasure and comfort, and
ofttimes strengthening, to their friend. A word of sympathy does so
much. Once after the death of a good clergyman whose labours had been
very blessed, his friends expressed to his widow their appreciation
of his noble life and work, and she, after thanking them for their
kindly words, asked, amid her tears: "But why did you never tell him
these things while he was living?" Yes, why not? Dr. Miller says:
"Too many wait until those they love are dead, and then bring their
alabaster boxes of affection and break them. They keep silent about
their love when words would mean so much, would give such cheer,
encouragement; and then, when the friend lies in the coffin, their lips
are unsealed.... Let us not reserve all the flowers for coffin-lids....
Let us show kindness when kindness will do good. All about us move
those who would be strengthened and comforted by the good cheer which
we could give. It will make sorrow all the harder if we ever have to
say beside the dead: "I might have brightened the way a little if only
I had been kinder.""
Never then, I beg of you, forget to be enthusiastic in this ministry
of friendship, and if, combined with that, you entertain enthusiasm
for other noble, worthy things, and try to kindle a like enthusiasm in
others, you may, perhaps, at the end of your life be allowed to feel
that you have, though perhaps but in a slight degree,
"Made the world within your reach
Somewhat the better for your living
And gladder for your human speech."
_Whittier._
* * * * *
Transcriber's note--the following changes have been made to this text:
Page 37: prefiguratious changed to prefigurations.