THE LITTLE ONES OF THE FAMILY AND THE GLORY OF MOTHERHOOD—CONCLUSION.
“Like olive plants round about thy table.”—Psa. cxxviii. 3.
Those of you, my dear girl friends, who are members of large families,
know how very soon the little ones begin to observe what is passing
around them. One never-ending marvel, in connection with infant life,
is the amount of knowledge gained during the first year of a child’s
existence.
The little creatures come into an unknown world where everything is
strange. Even the mother’s face has to be studied and learned off by
heart.
How quickly the baby eyes begin to follow the movements of those around
them! How soon they learn to discriminate between one face and another,
one object that is pleasant to the sight and a second that inspires
fear or dislike!
How marvellous is that instinct of self-preservation which moves the
little hand to twine itself round an outstretched finger, or to clutch
at any object within its reach!
Has it not been to you, baby’s sister, almost as much as to the
mother, a source of pride and delight to observe that the new-comer
was “beginning to take notice”? If the downy head is turned in your
direction, there is quite a ring of triumph in your voice as you say,
“I am sure he knows me.”
You see, I picture my girls as loving sisters with tender, motherly
instincts, and I decline to believe that there is one amongst them who
does not love these little ones.
If children begin to observe so soon, how important it is that those
who are round and about the life-path, on which, as yet, they can
only place a little tottering foot, should be careful that they see
only what is worthy of imitation. We, who are, perforce, the patterns
which the children are certain to copy, should be doubly watchful over
ourselves for their dear sakes.
You and I need to be ever on the watch on our own account, and the
prayer “Lord, I cry unto thee. Keep the door of my lips. Incline not
my heart to any evil thing. Deliver my feet from falling,” must often
go up from our hearts to God, if we are sensible of our needs and
weaknesses.
Have you not a double reason for the prayer that you may be kept from
sin, whether in word or deed, if you are elder sisters in homes where
the children must certainly learn by your example? I would not only
urge you never to utter a wrong or impure expression, but also to avoid
the foolish talk which even some older people think the only kind
suited to children. Use habitually the best words you know, so that
the little ones may have nothing to unlearn that they have heard from
your lips. Speak clearly and distinctly, avoid shrieking, boisterous
laughter, and discordant tones, so that baby’s voice, imitating yours,
may be clear and even musical from the first.
Be gentle and graceful in your movements. Do not throw yourselves about
or be rough, careless or boisterous in manner, for if you are, you
will soon see a little reflection of your doings in the toddling thing
who smashes his toys and laughs at the destruction he has wrought.
Be orderly in your own habits, and teach the little ones to put away
their toys when done with, in places provided for them. I may note here
that children are often untidy and needlessly destructive of their toys
because no provision is made for orderly ways, and no settled places
given for their childish treasures. Let them thoroughly enjoy the use
of these, but teach them that their toys are worth something, and that
wilful destruction results in loss to themselves.
Turn a bright, happy face for a child to study, that your smile may be
reflected in his. Cultivate a cheerful disposition and an even temper,
that you may rejoice in seeing joyous little ones in your homes.
Apart from ill-health and the consequent bodily suffering which
naturally makes the poor little people fretful and peevish, I honestly
believe that many mothers are responsible for the ill-tempers of their
children. If they had always cultivated habits of self-restraint, and
prayerfully watched against and checked every tendency to discontent,
angry passions, selfishness, etc., I am convinced they would have had
less cause to mourn over peevish, passionate, ill-tempered, exacting
children.
I have used the word _always_ advisedly.
The cultivation of every pure, right, holy habit, temper and method of
speech, should begin long before a young mother actually clasps her
child to her breast, if he is to come into the world such as she would
have him to be.
With what widely differing feelings do parents look forward to the gift
of a child! In some cases it is in the hope of keeping property in the
direct line, so that others may not inherit it.
Dear ones, it may be that none amongst you have need to cherish such
thoughts, or to expect any great share of this world’s wealth, for
those who may some day call you by the sweet name of mother. On all
who bear it will devolve the solemn responsibility of training your
children for something greater, higher and better than the richest
earthly inheritance.
It must never be forgotten that it is the children of human mothers who
are the heirs of immortality. It is the glorious privilege and duty of
the mother to teach her little ones the old, old story of God’s love in
Christ Jesus, and to put before them the precious truth that in Him and
through Him they become children of God. “And if children, heirs of God
and joint-heirs with Christ.”
Children are sometimes used as outlets for a mother’s vanity and love
of display. She delights to clothe them in the richest and costliest
of silks and laces, less for their comfort than to show that she is
wealthy enough to do so. These things are of little real account.
The soft woollen garments knitted and fashioned by the loving hands
of a poor mother, and the mere scraps of material adorned with pretty
stitching by her busy fingers, and kept in snowy purity, will be just
as comfortable and becoming as the more costly clothing.
In choosing a nurse to be associated with you in the care of your
children, think of what you would fain be for their sakes, and try to
find one who will work with you in a like spirit. Never give up your
own share in the work or the supervision of the nurse’s, except from
dire necessity. I would be the last to suggest that you should show
a suspicious, prying spirit; but let it be understood that the nurse
is your co-worker, and that, in trusting her with your children, you
place your greatest treasures in her partial keeping. My own practice
has always been to trust those who served in my home, unless something
occurred to justify a change of opinion.
In dealing with the little ones be absolutely true. Let there be
no shams or make-believes on your part, and allow none in others.
Children are wonderfully quick to detect shams, or even an approach
to untruth, and how keenly they study their elders! I hope it is not
derogatory to the child for me to say that they and dogs are curiously
alike in judging character. The child will meet the advances of one
stranger with open arms, whilst no bribes or blandishments will induce
her to look at another. The dog will generally make a like choice.
Before reason can have much to say in the matter, the child exercises
its God-given instinct in making or refusing to make friends with a
new-comer.
I was in a room with a number of people one day, when a little girl of
four was brought to see the visitors. All but one tried to coax her
into friendliness but in vain. The exception was a sea-captain, rugged,
sunburnt, and with a face seamed by small-pox. He made no attempt to
entice the child, beyond smiling in response to her frequent gaze. At
length she went quietly to him, laid her hand on his knee and bade him
lift her up. The rugged face looked beautiful in its kindliness as he
raised the child in his arms, and a moment after felt a soft kiss on
his cheek, and a curly head nestling on his breast. A more lovable
nature than that which dwelt beneath that man’s unpromising exterior,
it would have been hard to find; and so evidently the dog of the
household decided, for he followed the child and tried to push his nose
beneath the captain’s one free hand.
I often think that our four-footed friends set us examples worthy of
imitation in dealing with our little ones. Most of us would rather
bear pain than see a child suffer, even if not impelled to pity and
tenderness by motherly love. But we are not always sympathetic in
matters which are very real trials to the children. I have heard
people say, “How can one be expected to do anything but laugh at the
ridiculous things children cry and grieve about?” If the trouble is
a real one to the child, we may sympathise with the sorrow, though
we may smile at the cause of it. Only do not let us spoil everything
by allowing the child to see us smile whilst professing to pity and
condole.
It is harder for some natures to sympathise with the little ones in
their play than in their grievances. To do the latter is natural to
every kindly heart, but very often we find it the hardest possible task
to be a child with a child. The healthy little one is not often quiet
in play-time, and busy mothers, weary with very real work, are glad to
confine all romps within nursery walls, or to banish the players to
any place out of sight and hearing. Believe me, there is no time when
a mother’s supervision is more needed than during play-time. I was
brought to realise this, as I had never done before, quite lately.
A young mother, herself one of a large family, said to me, “My
childhood would have been one of the happiest possible, if only my
mother had been oftener with us in play-hours, but she had no idea
how miserable I was then. One of my sisters, younger than I, had a
passionate temper, a will of iron, and a selfish, exacting disposition
combined with unusual beauty and—when she chose—with the most winsome
ways imaginable. By these combined qualities she dominated the nursery,
got all her own way, and generally succeeded in making everyone appear
to be in the wrong but herself. My mother knew this too late to prevent
my childish happiness from being spoiled, and both she and my father
grieved over it. ‘Why did you not speak?’ they said. ‘We should have
believed you, for you were always true.’
“The fact was, I felt powerless before the strong will of my sister,
who succeeded in making me think myself of no account in comparison
with herself. I was not beautiful like her, and she was constantly
taunting me with what she called my ugliness. Well, I can thank God
that whilst my parents still lived, things were put right with them,
and no one was so near to them as I was. And, if I possessed a less
share of good looks, I had enough to win the love of a true heart and
keep it; so I must not complain. Only I cannot quite forget that I lost
the happy childhood my parents meant me to have, for want of my dear
mother’s more frequent presence during our play-time.”
When you attain to the glory of motherhood, beloved girl friends, let
each of you learn to be a child with your children. You will not lose
by this, and they will gain enormously.
I spoke of our four-footed friends. Look at puss with her kittens. Does
she stand on her dignity at play-time? Or the mother doggie. Does she
disdain a game at romps with her fat, roll-about puppies? Both these
furnish examples for human mothers, and depend on it, such will learn
far more of their children’s real dispositions during play-hours than
at any other time.
Years ago I saw an outdoor picture which I have never forgotten. A
little lamb had been born very late in the season, and, after all the
rest of the flock had been removed, it remained with its mother the
only occupants of a field. As soon as it was old enough, it showed all
the ordinary tendencies of its kind, and began to skip and frolic about
the field. But it had no playfellows, and would soon return, quiet and
disheartened, to its mother’s side.
The ewe rose to the occasion. She still carried her winter coat which
made active movements somewhat difficult, but in spite of this, she
joined in a game at romps with her little one. Anything funnier, more
ungainly than her efforts at skipping and prancing round, I never
expect to see, but she persevered to the delight of her lamb, so long
as the two remained in the field. She left in my memory one of the
sweetest pictures of motherly sympathy I ever witnessed.
It is not possible to do more than touch on the duties as well as the
glory of motherhood, for the subject is equally vast and important. In
all our talks in the twilight our object has been rather to suggest
future thought on matters of importance, than to exhaust the subject
during a sitting. You, my dear ones, if spared to be mothers, will have
to study many things, if you are to be worthy of such a sacred trust.
You will need loving and sympathetic natures, great self-control and
constant watchfulness over self, in order that your example may be
good for the little ones to follow. You will need tender, enlightened
consciences to keep Duty ever to the front, and Inclination subservient
to its call. You will find that you must unlearn as well as learn many
things in order that you may only teach what is best. You will have to
study the parts that others fill in the environment of your children
so that they may have pure companionship, friends and teachers whose
influence shall be second only to your own in doing them good. You
will have to plan in ways small and great for the growth, health and
general well-being of their bodies, but above and beyond all you must
never forget that something more precious than all the world has been
entrusted to you—an immortal soul with each child.
I need not say that if you realise the vastness of this trust, you
will be a prayerful mother. Very conscious of your own weakness and
inability rightly to fulfil your God-given work, you will constantly
seek the grace which is sufficient for you and for all: the strength
which is made perfect in the weakness of His believing servants. “For
the weakness of God is stronger than men.”
You will be ever prayerfully striving after greater nearness to the
Source of strength, and so, taking your little ones in your arms or
by the hand, you will lead them into the Presence, and as you lift up
heart and voice in supplication and prayer, teach them to realise from
their earliest days the Divine Fatherhood, and the saving love of God
in Christ Jesus.
It seems coming down from the greater to the less when, leaving for a
moment the teaching of the Bible about the glory and responsibility of
motherhood, I open another book and quote a few words from the writings
of a high-souled poetess, one who without knowing the glory, the bliss,
the responsibility of hearing a child call her mother, has yet grasped,
in a higher degree than any other writer I know, the reality of all
these things.
It was fitting to place first of all the testimony of Bible history and
teaching on the value of a child and the glories and responsibilities
of motherhood. But in these days it will do us good to read some words
from one of Mrs. Browning’s poems and to find that along with her great
mental and poetic powers, there dwelt in her fragile frame the warmest
of motherly hearts, the strongest motherly instincts. As Aurora Leigh,
she writes—
“I might have been a common woman now,
And happier, less known and less left alone;
Perhaps a better woman after all,
With chubby children hanging on my neck
To keep me low and wise. Ah me, the vines
That bear such fruit are proud to stoop with it:
The palm stands upright in a realm of sand.
* * * * *
I thought a child was given to sanctify
A woman, set her in the sight of all
The clear-eyed Heavens, a chosen minister
To do their business and lead spirits up
The difficult blue heights. A woman lives,
Not quickened towards the truth and good
Through being a mother?
* * * * *
I’m nothing more
But just a mother. Only for the child
I’m warm, and cold, and hungry, and afraid,
And smell the flowers a little, and see the sun,
And speak still, and am silent, just for him.”
I will not multiply quotations. These are more than enough to justify
what I have said of the writer. I hope many of you are already familiar
with the whole poem.
And now, my dear girl friends, I must close our talk to-night with the
announcement that in one sense it is to be our last, but not in another.
Three years have come and gone since our Twilight Circle was first
formed. Some of us met then as old acquaintances, but we have become
far more than mere acquaintances to each other. I believe we shall
remain true and lifelong friends. One of you, looking regretfully
forward to the probable cessation of our meetings, asks quite
pathetically—
“Have you nothing more to say to us, your girls?”
I feel that I still have many things to speak about, and yet that it
would not be advisable to arrange for meeting at stated periods for
the present. Yet I look forward to our keeping in regular touch with
each other; for our dear friend the Editor has suggested a “Twilight
Circle Correspondence Column” for us. In it I hope to answer some of
the letters already received, and others which you may address to me
in the future about our Twilight Talks. It has always been to me a
source of great regret that many of your letters have perforce remained
unanswered so long. I also hope to bring some of you, dear ones, into
touch with each other during the coming year by means of these letters.
I pray that God will add His blessing to what has been said, and that
you may all be better daughters, sisters, friends, wives, and, in due
time, mothers through our many happy meetings “In the Twilight Side by
Side.”
[THE END.]
HOUSEHOLD HINTS.
IT is not safe to use common cheap enamelled saucepans after they have
been chipped inside. The glaze that is used is often poisonous, and
the material comes off in such small pieces, that if absorbed with the
food they may act as a serious irritant to the intestines and set up
inflammation.
A BOOK should be kept for cuttings of interest from newspapers and
journals. These form very interesting reading.
AN accomplishment which everyone should cultivate is that of writing
clearly, especially one’s signature. It causes a great deal of trouble
and even serious mistakes to write illegibly. While staying with a
friend on a visit, a letter was handed round the table for us each to
try and decipher, and all that could be read of it was the concluding
sentence, “_Please reply by return of post._” The signature and address
were totally illegible.
SOUFFLÉ AU CHOCOLAT.—Take three eggs and beat the yolks and whites
separately. Add to the yolk a tablespoonful of pounded sugar and about
two ounces of chocolate. Stir all these ingredients well together,
adding a teaspoonful of flour. Whisk the whites of the eggs until they
form a stiff paste, and then mix lightly with the other substances.
Butter a tin and bake in a moderate oven for a quarter of an hour.
Serve up immediately in the tin.
[Illustration: AYONT THAE HILLS.]
AYONT THAE HILLS.
Glendevon banks are bonny,
Glendevon braes are braw;
But burn an’ tree are nocht to me—
My heart is far awa’.
Ayont thae hills, thae bonny hills,
Thae blue, blue hills o’ Blair,
It’s there bides he wha’s a’ to me,
An’ oh! my heart is there!
The lark may sing his blithest,
The throstle fill the breeze,
But ilka strain is poured in vain—
Nae heart hae I for these.
For ower thae hills, thae bonny hills,
Thae blue, blue hills o’ Blair,
It’s there bides he wha’s a’ to me,
An’ oh! my heart is there!
G. K. M.
SHEILA’S COUSIN EFFIE.
A STORY FOR GIRLS.
BY EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN, Author of “Greyfriars,” “Half-a-dozen
Sisters,” etc.