THE INDUSTRIOUS BEAVER.
The part played by some of the different species in the animal world
(_sic_), in the development of our earth and its resources, cannot be
over-estimated. In some parts of America, for instance, the persistent
industry of beavers in the construction of dams has rendered fertile
whole tracts of prairie land that were once arid and barren.
In the _Castoridae_, together with the squirrels, the beaver family
constitute the group termed _Sciuromorpha_, a group distinguished by
its members having a special type of lower jaw structure, and also the
same type of skull structure. The powerful incisor teeth of the beaver
are admirably suited to the cutting through of small tree stems, of
branches and twigs, whilst its flat and scaly tail serves as a rudder
to a creature that always makes its home beside or in the midst of
water.
The beaver is as much noted for its sagacity, and for what nowadays we
call "faculty," as it is prized for its fur. One of the largest of the
rodents, its body measures nearly three and a half feet in length, not
taking the tail into consideration, which is eleven to twelve inches in
length.
An attempt has been made to acclimatise the beaver in England again.
That it once bred in our country is proved by the fact that some fossil
remains of the animal have been obtained from the crag deposits in
Norfolk and Suffolk. These were, however, declared by Professor Owen to
have belonged to a much larger species of beaver than is now known. Sir
Edmund Loder has a number of the common species established in a little
valley stream in his estate, Leonard's Lea, near Horsham, carefully
protected, which are said to be thriving, and Lord Bute had a still
larger number established in Scotland; but it is not likely that they
will ever be at home in our country again. Whilst badgers and others
have had so much difficulty in holding their own, it is not likely
that the beaver could breed and thrive unmolested. Whilst writing the
present article, I have heard from Lord Bute that the last of his
beavers died some time ago.
In other parts of Europe it is found now only in small numbers, on
the banks of the Danube, the Rhone, and the Weser. In the northern
districts of Canada it is very numerous. Its range in America is from
the confluence of the Ohio and the Mississippi to the banks of the
Mackenzie River. At one time the demand for the fur--greatly in vogue
in those days for men's hats--was so large that it was feared this
clever little creature might become extinct, and the noted furriers of
the Hudson Bay Company took measures, in concert with certain Indian
tribes, for its protection, whilst still procuring large quantities of
its fur.
The most interesting feature in the natural history of the beaver is
their amazing skill in the construction of their dams and the dwellings
they make for themselves--"lodges," these are called. They are often
constructed in small rivers and creeks where the water is apt to be
drained off, when the supplies are dried up by winter frost. I spent
some time in Colorado near to a part of the Rockies where beavers
abounded, and where they were a never-failing source of interest to the
young folks in my friend's family. In Montana also they abound in vast
numbers. One of its counties is named Beaver Head.
What we--in our ignorance of the inner life of those creatures who have
always shared the rich heritage of this world with ourselves--term
instinct, has taught the beavers to provide against drought, and to
keep up a certain necessary depth of water, by making a dam right
across these smaller rivers just at what they know to be a convenient
distance from their houses. The manner in which they construct this
depends on the locality where they live. If the current is not
strong--if there is only a slight motion of the water--the dam is
made almost straight; but in proportion as the stream is a rapid one,
the dam must be more curved, presenting its convex side towards the
current. Where beavers have been allowed to build for a long period
undisturbed, their dams become in time, through the persistent industry
with which they repair them, a bank so solid that it resists quite
a strong on-rush of water or even of ice. Vegetation plants itself
on this--willows, birches, and poplar-trees take root. Sometimes so
large a thicket is formed that birds build there, and the whole makes
a charming colony of happy and busy life. The dams are built in some
rivers of trees which are often five or six inches in diameter. These
the beaver cuts down with his wonderful sharp incisor teeth.
In lakes and ponds also the beavers have their habitat. They like much
the narrow creeks which so often connect the lakes of North America.
The currents help them to convey the wood and other materials to their
dwellings. A certain depth of water is, of course, necessary for their
purpose. Driftwood is utilised by them in building, as well as the
green boughs of willows, birches, and poplars. But mud and stones are
used also, welded all firmly together, and the different parts of the
dam must, of course, be of equal strength. In the same manner, that is,
of the same materials, they construct their dwellings, but they are
not built with equal care; their construction is rougher than that of
the dams. The only thing essential in the work is that they should be
made watertight, so that they may have dry sleeping-quarters. Sometimes
a house is just big enough for one family, but larger dwellings are
also made, such as will house a great number of animals. When this
is the case, each family has its own apartment, with a separate door
communicating only with the water, never with the home of any other
family. The wood is laid crosswise, nearly horizontal, leaving a cavity
in the centre. The smaller branches, that project uselessly, are cut
off with the teeth, and they are thrown in with the rest to form a good
safeguard against any falling in of the mud through the roof.
Once it was believed that the woodwork was first finished, and that
then it was plastered, the tail being used as a trowel for this
purpose. But this was a popular error. The tail is used as a rudder,
and like that of a dog, is a vehicle for emotion. It is flapped even
when a beaver has been tamed and domesticated, especially when the
creature is startled. They have a very pretty way of carrying mud and
stones in their little fore-paws, holding them close up under the
throat. The wood naturally is dragged along, held in the teeth. All
their work is done in the night-time, a charming sight for a lover of
animals, if he can quietly remain concealed near enough for observation
on a clear calm night.
A wonderful instinct, so-called, again prompts the beavers to cover
their houses each autumn with fresh mud--as late in the season as they
can manage it--so that it may freeze hard and keep them secure against
their foe, the wolverine, a creature about the size of our common
badger, which is much about during the winter. Wolverines are said to
do more damage to the fur trade in smaller animals than all the other
creatures of prey put together.
Their lodges are kept clean, their inhabitants always plunging into the
water instead of polluting their sleeping quarters.
Sir John Richardson states that their main food consists of a large
root, something like a cabbage stalk, which grows at the bottom of
lakes and rivers, a yellow water-lily in fact--_Nuphar luteum_. But
they eat also the bark of trees--that of the poplar, birch and willow.
The latter, however, they cannot procure in winter, when the ice
prevents their getting to land, so that roots are then their staple
food. In summer the diet is varied by the different kinds of herbage
and the berries growing near their haunts. In the part of Colorado I
have already referred to, above what is called Hardscrabble Creek,
in Fremont County, wild fruits, gooseberries, currants, raspberries,
and other berries are in profusion. When the ice breaks up in the
spring, the beavers always leave their homes to roam about until the
approaching fall of the leaf makes them return; and after laying in
their winter stock of wood, they then set to work to repair their homes.
The Indians consider beaver flesh a delicacy, and they prefer to bake
it with the skin on, as our gipsies roast the hedgehog. It is a heavy
meat, much like pork, hard to digest.
The author already mentioned tamed several of them, and he got them to
answer to their names and to follow him about like dogs. They were, he
said, very fond of being petted and fondled, creeping into the laps of
the Indian women and standing on their hind legs to be caressed. They
lived indoors with the women and children during the winter, and if
these were absent for any length of time, the beavers quite fretted
after them. So domesticated did they become that they particularly
enjoyed rice and plum pudding, and, indeed, shared generally the food
of the women. The cry of a beaver cub is very like that of an infant.
The American poet, Whittier, says--
"The musk-rat plied its mason's trade,
And tier by tier its mud walls laid."
The musk-rat is a small kind of beaver, and great numbers of the skins
are imported into England. It constructs huts like its larger relative
but of a simpler style, the openings to them being under the water.
There is also an animal nearly as large as a common beaver which was
included in the same family, and called a coypu, inhabiting the rivers
and streams of South America. Furs of coypu are sold as otter skins.
"Ask now the beasts and they shall teach thee," and from the beaver and
its works we can indeed learn what persistent, cheerful industry can
accomplish. Our poet, Coleridge, said, "If the idle are described as
_killing_ time, the methodical man may be justly said to call it into
life and moral being, while he makes it the distinct object not only
of the consciousness, but of the conscience." Perhaps the latter part
of this sentence may seem obscure to some of you, my readers. To kill
time means evidently to lose all count of it, to be "unmindful of the
fleeting hours." But if the conscience is roused, and we are imbued
with a sense of our responsibility with regard to every day, every
hour we live, each hour becomes instinct with possibilities, with the
opportunity and power of developing the gifts that we have, the talents
entrusted to us, not only with a view to self-improvement and personal
enrichment, but with an eye on the Master and His work. "Fellow-workers
with Christ" in the redemption of this world,--how great a calling!
The beaver's little paws seem so small; yet by pawful after pawful
of earth brought by these small animals, who are working in friendly
co-operation with their fellows, great dams that can stem an advancing
flood are constructed.
I once heard a story of a poor and not over-wise--as the world counts
wisdom--Highlander. I think he was a shepherd, he lived where there
were only a few huts widely scattered over the bleak hillsides, and no
church was within the reach of the inhabitants of these. God's Spirit
moved strongly in the lonely heart, and he determined that a place of
worship should be built. Every time he came home to his cot, he brought
as many stones as he could collect whilst out, and he placed them in a
heap not far from his own door. Those who knew him and who passed that
way jeered and laughed at what the simple, loving fellow called his
church building.
The heap grew, though very slowly; for many years the shepherd's work
went on, that work which was called by the neighbours his "folly."
But one day a rich stranger travelling by that lonely and unused way
noticed the heap and asked what it meant. On hearing its history, his
heart was warmed by the flame of love in that of the poor cotter,
and he caused a good building--where divine service was soon held
weekly--to be placed on the spot, using up in it, let us hope, those
stones which were truly its foundation.
I know, myself, a lovely church, not far from Ehrenbreitstein on the
Rhine, which was built only from stones brought by loving hands to
ground chosen by the village pastor. The building took very many years,
but it stands there now complete, a monument of the free-will offerings
and labour of poor working folks.
We do not all need to think of building churches, but the stories are
typical. We are all either building, or--awful thought--pulling down
the good work of others. As the Book says, "Every wise woman buildeth
her house, but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands."
Our power to work increases by use. Many of the world's greatest books
have been written by busy men. How often, too, one hears it said that
if you want anything special done you must ask a busy man or woman to
do it. That barren fig-tree to which our Lord directed the attention
of His followers is a by-word and a proverb for all ages. Persistent
industry it is that meets with the reward. An abiding sense of duty we
need.
Yet all of us have our times of depression, of weakness, and days
when aspiration and hope seem dead within us. Then let us try to cast
ourselves on Him whose joy, "the joy of the Lord," may become our
strength. One of our poets says--
"We cannot kindle when we will
The fire that in the heart resides;
The spirit moveth, and is still,
In mystery the soul abides;
Yet tasks in hours of insight willed
May be in hours of gloom fulfilled."
It is these two last lines I would beg you to take to heart.
Huber, the distinguished naturalist of Geneva, who wrote so much and
so finely on bees, was blind from the age of seventeen; yet he had a
passion for the study of animal and especially of insect life, a study
one would suppose quite out of the reach of the blind. He had a good
and devoted wife, who never wearied in promoting his well-being and
their joint happiness. Through her eyes he studied and succeeded in
mastering a department in natural history which needs the clearest
and keenest eyesight. And not only did he write a great work, which
is still referred to as a masterpiece of its kind, and is still
constantly quoted, but what the wife's eyes saw and transferred to his
brain became his very own, to dwell upon, to draw deductions from, to
gather to himself a fund of personal happiness, to give forth again to
the world enriched by his thoughts--his life made a happiness and a
blessing to himself and others--all through the unwearying industry and
persevering efforts of a loving woman who effaced herself, apparently,
for the sake of her husband and his life's work. "Who would lose his
life shall find it."
A last word. The sovereign remedy for doubt and perplexity is, "Doe the
next thynge."
(_To be continued._)
THE GIRL'S OWN QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS COMPETITION.
_We give here the fifth instalment of questions in this Competition,
full particulars of which appeared on p. 14._
Questions 49-60.
49. What epidemic in Italy in the sixteenth century was cured by means
of music?
* * * * *
50. What is the mother-tongue of Queen Victoria?
* * * * *
51. What is the best time at which to water indoor and outdoor plants?
* * * * *
52. Is abundant hair an indication of bodily and mental strength?
* * * * *
53. How many ways can be named of profitably using broken bread?
* * * * *
54. Was public money ever raised in England by encouraging the spirit
of gambling?
* * * * *
55. Who was the religious poet so beloved by the parish of which he was
rector that many of his parishioners would stop their ploughs when his
bell rang for prayers that they might offer their devotions to God with
him?
* * * * *
56. How did the leek come to be the emblem of Wales?
* * * * *
57. What famous outlaw has a conspicuous place in ballad literature?
* * * * *
58. Where can a married couple, after a twelvemonth of matrimony, lay
claim to a flitch of bacon after proving that, during the whole time,
they have never had a quarrel and never regretted the marriage?
* * * * *
59. Has anyone ever tried to count the stars?
* * * * *
60. What English earl once got a box on the ear from a great queen?
The answers to the above questions, Nos. 49-60, together with the
answers to questions 61-72, which are yet to appear, must be sent in on
or before February 24, 1899.
Address to THE EDITOR, THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER OFFICE, 56, Paternoster
Row, London, E.C., and at the left-hand top corner of the envelope or
wrapper write the words "QUESTIONS COMPETITION."
FROCKS FOR TO-MORROW.
BY "THE LADY DRESSMAKER."
[Illustration: PRINCESS DRESS OF BROWN CLOTH.]
The first thing on my list with which I must deal is the recent meeting
of the Amateur Swimming Association, at which the vexed question of a
regulation dress for the women members was discussed; and there is a
good chance that it will be wisely and properly decided, so that there
will be a regular uniform dress in future, and all misunderstanding
will be avoided. The material to which the lady delegates appear to
have given in their adhesion, is stockingette; which they consider
superior in every way to serge, flannel, silk, or merino. A model
costume made of it, shown by the Birmingham Ladies Club, was so much
approved of by the large assembly of ladies present, that it was
adopted as a guide, the fullest liberty as to trimmings being given,
while only three colours were allowed, viz., navy blue, red, and black.
The Birmingham costume had flat facings of Turkey-red twill, but of
course it is open to any club to select their own colours. It buttoned
on the shoulders, and by means of gussets under the arms a short sleeve
was formed. The great recommendation, however, was its cheapness, as it
was announced that it could be produced in quantities of not less than
one dozen at a fraction over two shillings each, in the various sizes
required by the wearers. Of course, where there are so many working
women's clubs, this question of cost is a grave consideration. The
costume finally recommended was much on this Birmingham model. With
the additional advice that "it should reach, at least, to within three
inches from the knee," should be cut square at the neck, and button on
the shoulder, where it must be not less than three inches in width,
and where it must be shaped to the arm beneath, so as to form a short
sleeve.
Now that swimming as a pastime has become so popular amongst women and
girls, and when it is taught in so many schools, it is only wise to
decide on a suitable dress, which can be modified to meet all views,
and trimmed to please all wearers, and be attainable to limited purses,
and, above all, should be seemly to wear in a mixed assemblage of all
ages.
Although we have worn the Eton jacket with more or less decoration
for many years, it seems still to hold its own, and is very becoming
indeed to many people. The same may be said of the Bolero fronts;
both of these are braided and buttoned this autumn, and the braiding
is generally in panels, while the buttons most used are of the fancy
order. Basqued bodices, with and without belts, three-quarter-length
coats, quite tight to the figure, and a coat of the _Directoire_
style, short at the waist in front, with a rounded basque, and long
coat-tails; all of these are in fashion, and, so far as I see, though
all have basques, they may be long or short, according to individual
fancy. The great desire of all women this winter is to present an
appearance of height and thinness, and all draperies must be sweeping,
and the outlines flowing, to meet with our approval. Flounces and
frills are used with much discretion, so that they may not contradict
the clinging effect. Skirts are, if possible, tighter than ever, and
only show fulness at the feet, while as regards our sleeves, the last
vestige of puffiness has deserted them, and not even a tiny pleat is
permitted at the shoulder, and the whole appearance is that of the old
coat-sleeve, which was originally introduced by the Princess of Wales.
Of course, with this clinging effect, we may naturally go on to say
that the Princess dress that was worn by a few people last season will
be adopted by many this winter; and the newest ones, if in cloth, have
very generally strapped seams; the French Princess gowns having very
generally a _plastron_, which is buttoned up on each side with handsome
buttons.
In hats, we find the _tre-corne_ much used in Paris; but this is a
style only suitable to the very young, or very pretty, so that the
wider-brimmed felts are more generally popular. Many of the felt hats
are made in two colours, the underpart being of a different colour
to the upper, and very little trimming is used for them. Low-crowned
hats of almost a sailor shape have been predicted, and the boat shape
is one of the favourite winter models. Quills and wings have taken
the place of the long and graceful ostrich feathers, the former being
more suitable for winter weather; a large bow and ends, and jewelled
buckles, form part of the trimming, and the hat-pins are sumptuously
jewelled, and as every lady tries to select those that are most
decorative to her hat or bonnet, they have become quite a feature in
the head-dress of the day.
I spoke in my last chat on clothes, and dress in general, of the change
that has taken place in the dressing of the hair, and that it is worn
much lower; in fact, in a coil that lies on the nape of the neck, the
rest of the hair is waved in large waves, which lie regularly over
the top of the head, and across it from ear to ear, while the front
locks are curled over the forehead. The chief difficulty presented
by this new departure is in finding a hat or bonnet to go with it;
for all the French bonnets are made to go with the high rolled
_coiffure_ universally worn on the Continent, but never very becoming
to Englishwomen, who have good heads of hair and find a difficulty in
producing the tiny knot of hair, which is the essential part of the
high hair-dressing. The low knot is shown in our picture of the two
figures representing the new winter gowns, and called "A Princess dress
of brown cloth." These two gowns show exactly the prevailing styles of
the winter.
I daresay you will have already seen, though perhaps not quite
realised, the change, that dresses are now worn with bodices of the
same material, and the sketch in question displays this alteration in
style. The seated figure wears a Princess dress of brown cloth, with
revers of cream-coloured satin, one of which overlaps the other so far
as to close the gown on the side of the front, and the band of cream
satin is continued across the front and terminates in a scroll. The
satin has a scroll pattern braided on it with brown silk braid, and the
cuffs are decorated in the same manner. To those who contemplate having
a Princess gown, I would say, be careful to choose a good tailor or
dressmaker, and a firm material of which to make your dress, in order
to avoid dissatisfaction with your gown.
The second gown is of green face-cloth. The bodice and sleeves are
tucked with small horizontal tucks all over them. The skirt is one of
the new ones, and is in three tiers, cut away from the front, and each
is edged with a small band of chinchilla fur.
[Illustration: LONG BASQUED COAT AND EMBROIDERED JACKET.]
The second sketch shows a sac jacket of smooth blue serge, with a skirt
to match. The jacket is beautifully braided and embroidered in black,
both in front and on the shoulders. The hat is of blue felt, trimmed
with blue velvet and feathers. The second figure wears a long basqued
coat with a fur collar, and wide revers in front which taper down to
the waist, and end in two tails. The cuffs are turned back in the new
shape, and the collar is high and closes in front. The skirt worn is
plain, and is cut in the umbrella style. The hat is a small velvet one,
with fur trimmings and white or cream lace. The mixture of lace and
fur indeed with all our winter trimmings this year is very remarkable,
and contributes to the very light effect of all the millinery worn.
[Illustration: CAPE AND MUFF OF CHINCHILLA AND GREEN SILK.]
The pretty sketch next in order represents a gown made of one of the
new fancy materials trimmed with chinchilla; cape of chinchilla trimmed
with green silk and cream lace, and muff to match. The hat is a very
charming model, which is called by some milliners a Trelawnley. It
droops in front, and is made of black velvet, round the crown a very
handsome ostrich plume is laid, and under the brim of the hat is a
_cache peigne_ of pink roses. The new capes of this season are, many
of them, pointed in front and back; and are often caught in at the
waist behind. Violet cloth has been very much used for capes, and this
is a colour that goes so well with fur of all kinds that it is likely
to be popular. Where jackets are concerned, whether long or short in
the basques, the latter must fit very snugly round the hips without
fulness, or they will not give the effect of the newest style. Many of
the basques are added with a seam just below the waist, and are marvels
of careful fitting.
There is rather a strong tendency to use a great quantity of orange
in the French millinery; the hue of the moment being of the reddest
and most vivid flame colour. The other colours in vogue for the same
purpose are green, some shades of red, golden brown, wallflower, and
much blue in all shades. For capes and coats putty-colour and fawn are
much used, and there is a large amount of white used for trimming.
I must not finish my chat without mentioning the ribbon trimmings which
have so largely replaced lace, tulle, and chiffon ruches, especially
upon bodices and blouses. Skirts as well as bodices are ornamented with
gathered ribbons. The prettiest effect is given by using two ribbons
together, a narrow and a wider one. These may be of two different
colours, or of black and white, the latter being placed on the top.
Plain bands of ribbon edged with black velvet, or with baby ribbon
gathered, are also much used; in fact there seems no style of design
which cannot be turned to account in this decoration.
VARIETIES.
WRITING HISTORY.
Some people have very funny ideas about things. "You know I am supposed
to be an historian," said Kinglake the historian of the Crimean war
when talking to a friend. "The other day I got a letter which really
touched me: it was signed by two people, husband and wife, and came
from one of our colonies.
"They described their grief. Their only child had been killed in the
Crimea. For some incomprehensible reason, they were most anxious to
have their beloved son mentioned in my history of the Crimean War.
"Surprised, but flattered, I replied by return of post--a thing I had
not done for many, many years--that I should be happy to do my best for
their comfort provided they sent me the necessary particulars.
"Again, a letter signed by both father and mother arrived, but with the
following cruel addition--
"'We have no particulars whatever. He was killed on the spot like so
many others, and anything you may kindly invent will be welcome. We
leave it entirely to your judgment.'"
HOW TO WRITE WELL.--The style of a writer is a faithful representation
of her mind: therefore, if any girl wishes to write a clear style, let
her first be clear in her thoughts; and if anyone would write in a
noble style, let her first possess a noble soul.
KNOWLEDGE AND LOVE.--Without knowledge love is vain, without love
knowledge is vain.
ATTEND TO SMALL COURTESIES.--No matter how wise, how clever, how
skilled you may be, if you fail in the small courtesies of life, people
instinctively feel that there is dust on the balance, and that you do
not weigh as pure gold.
LITTLE HOPE FOR MISERS.--History tells of illustrious villains; but
there never was an illustrious miser in nature.
BRUSH IT OFF, IF YOU CAN.--Stretch your hand out flat, and place in the
middle of the palm an ordinary coin, a halfpenny, a penny, a sixpence,
a shilling, or anything else. Then tell someone she can have it,
provided she can brush it off. She must use a common clothes-brush for
the experiment. Your hand must not be struck, it must be brushed, just
as one would brush a garment. But the coin will stick to your hand as
if it were glued there. It is a very curious experiment.
ECONOMY.
BY ELIZABETH A. S. DAWES, M.A., D.Lit.
"We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
Life's but a means unto an end--that end--
Beginning, mean and end to all things--God."--_P. J. Bailey._
The subject "Economy" may strike my readers as being somewhat dry
and uninteresting; but I trust that when I have explained to you its
meaning and shown to what various things economy can be applied and the
good results attendant on its application, you will henceforth regard
the word with more liking and comprehension than before.
"Economy" (or "œconomy" as it should be spelt) comes from the Greek
word οἰκονομἱα, which signifies literally the "administration
of a house or home," and, secondarily, "right management" or
"administration" of anything.
When viewed with regard to our life as a complete unity, economy, or
right administration, should be zealously practised in three special
ways, namely, economy of money, economy of time, and economy of forces
or strength, and these last two are touched upon indirectly in the
lines chosen for the heading of this address.
Let us begin with economy of money. Many persons, both young and old,
learn the sad necessity for this by hard experience, and by such my
advice is not required. It is to you, the happy daughters of prosperous
parents, that I should like more particularly to say a few words on
this subject.
There are so many reasons why we should all practise economy of money,
or, in other words, try to administer our money aright. Firstly, it
trains us in habits of order and reflection if we try to lay out our
money to the best use instead of squandering it on worthless trifles
which serve only for the pleasure or amusement of the moment.
Secondly, it sets a good example to those around us and helps to remind
them of the fact that money like other talents is given to us to use
and not to waste. Thirdly and chiefly, it is to be commended because if
anyone, no matter who, nor whether his income be small or large, really
administers his money aright, that person will find himself able to put
by something each year against the rainy days that may come.
Again, it is not only for one's own use, but for that of others that
we should endeavour to keep a reserve-fund. And this applies directly
to girls with ample pocket-money. Do begin now at once; buy a little
money-box and every week or month drop a certain sum into it and
resolve never to open that box except to relieve some urgent and
piteous case of distress. For years it might remain unopened, and if
you continued to feed it regularly, it would give you infinite pleasure
some day to be able to open it and with the contents earn the undying
gratitude of a fellow-creature.
If you girls who have now, or will shortly have, an ample allowance per
year to dress on, were to pause to consider seriously how many women
there are, say in London alone, who have only £40 or £50 a year, and
not a penny beyond, to live on, that is, to provide them with a home,
food, clothing, firing, and all the other necessaries of life, there
is hardly one among you probably who would not resolve to immediately
commence administering her money with some care.
Economy of time again is essential towards using one's life to the best
advantage. It does not mean a continual bustle and hurry, but doing
things at the right time and working and living with some definite end
in view--the final end of all ends being, as the motto says, the glory
and honour of God in our lives. Again, true economy of time does not
imply that each hour in which we have not actually achieved some work
with brain or hand is consequently wasted, for it may often be truer
economy to spend an hour in quiet talk with a friend or in taking
suitable recreation, but it does demand some method in our distribution
of time, and protests against the best hours of the day being devoted
solely to amusement or to mutually profitless gossip. Milton prettily
says--
"Hours have wings, fly up to the author of time and carry news of our
usage. All our prayers cannot entreat one of them either to return
or slacken his pace. The misspents of every minute are a new record
against us in heaven. Sure if we thought thus, we should dismiss them
with better reports and not suffer them to fly away empty or laden with
dangerous intelligence. How happy is it when they carry up not only the
message, but the fruits of good, and stay with the Ancient of Days to
speak for us before His glorious throne."
Sir James Y. Simpson, the celebrated surgeon, was very fond of speaking
to the students on the duty of saving the moments and letting the
minutes look after themselves. But in his estimate, as it should ever
be in ours, the quality of the work was the all-important element in
life. And of a hard-working thoughtful doctor who died young, he said,
"He was older than some of us who are twice his age!"
Kingsley had the same thought in his mind when he wrote those
well-known lines--
"Be good, sweet maid, and let who can be clever;
Do lovely things, not dream them, all day long,
And so make Life, and Death, and that For Ever
One grand sweet song."
He did not intend to deprecate cleverness and learning, but to point
out that our first endeavour should be to be good and live a noble
life, and if we could accomplish that, not to fret or be grieved if
outstripped in intellectual attainments by others; because whilst "to
do lovely things" lies in everybody's power, the higher intellectual
acquirements are not within the reach of all. With due arrangement
of time it is marvellous how much can be accomplished. You will be
surprised to find how many books you can read in a year if you devote
one hour a day to them. It is often said that it is the busiest people
who can always find time to undertake yet some more work or do a
service for others, while idle people never have time for anything,
and the truth of this paradox is proved by the vast amount of reading
accomplished and the intense interest taken in extraneous matters by
our very busiest statesmen, surgeons and clergymen. Try then, all
of you, to acquire such habits of regularity and punctuality whilst
at school, that they may remain with you afterwards and make it an
easy and pleasant task for you to apportion your time to the best
advantage, when freed from the rules necessary in scholastic life.
It remains for me to say a few words on the economy of our powers or
strength, which must be subdivided into physical and moral. Here the
idea of law involved in the word economy plays a most important part,
for nature has certain laws which, in our employment of our forces, she
will not allow to be transgressed with impunity; if we overtax either
our bodily or mental strength, we shall find that this disregard of
nature's laws will, sooner or later, bring its inevitable punishment.
A word of warning against the folly of taking physical exercise in
excess will hardly be out of season just now, when bicycling is so very
popular, that one unfortunately hears of many men, women and girls who
have made themselves ill by riding too fast or too long distances at a
stretch, or who, in other words, have not listened to the warning of
Nature, which says, "Do enough, but not too much." It is such a pity
ever to convert what is intended to be a beneficent pleasure into an
evil through our inability to practise a little self-restraint, and
this may arise not only from doing too much, but also from doing it
in a reckless and senseless manner. I heard it said recently that,
according to computations, there had been more deaths from bicycling
accidents in the last year in England than there had been English
soldiers killed throughout the present Egyptian campaign, from its
very beginning to after the Battle of Omdurman; and when one reads the
accounts of these accidents, one finds that nearly every one was caused
directly by the rider's recklessness and want of prudence. Too much
physical exercise also weakens our mental powers, so intimately are
mind and body connected, that that is an additional reason for taking
bicycling and all other bodily exercises in moderation, lest we should
be too tired to fulfil our other duties. The same warning applies to
mental overwork. How many a girl while at school, and more especially
at College, ruins her eyesight, if not her constitution, by poring
over her books at all hours, even when she ought to be taking the
much-needed rest of sleep, or of open-air exercise; and they cannot, or
will not, believe that time spent on necessary recreation and change
of occupation is time saved, not lost, and will enable them to resume
their work or exercise with far more vigour.
Therefore, dear girls, listen to your common sense, and stop
immediately when you feel that, either in work or play, you are getting
overtired.
Finally, let us consider what these three economies united will effect.
Each is good in itself, but happy is he who practises all three with
the ever-present thought that God is to be the end of all, for he will
be gaining wisdom, which "is better than rubies," and "whoso findeth
wisdom findeth life, and shall obtain favour of the Lord." "Wisdom! how
inexhaustible a theme! It is the ripest fruit of a well-spent life.
Wisdom never grows old, for she is the expression of order itself--that
is, of the eternal. Only the wise man draws from life, and from every
stage of it, its true savour, because only he feels the beauty, the
dignity, and the value of life.... To see all things in God, to make of
one's own life a journey towards the ideal, to live with gratitude and
devoutness, with gentleness and courage, to add to these the humility
which kneels and the charity which gives, is the true wisdom of the
children of God."
OLD ENGLISH COTTAGE HOMES;
OR,
VILLAGE ARCHITECTURE OF BYGONE TIMES.