Papers for Thoughtful Girls, with illustrative sketches of some girls' lives

Part I. Gifts

PAGE Chap. I. YOUTH, ... .3 Our Sister Grizel, . . . .10 II. INTELLECT, . . . ai What became of Pen ? . . .32 III. BEAUTY, . . . . .66 The Beauties, . . . . 7& IV. FAVOUR, - • - 96 " Wandering Darling," . . . 107 V. AMBITION, . . . • '43 A Dream of Honour, . . . '54 VI. PLEASURE, . ■ • .170 A Leaf from a Diary, . . • .181 VII. FRIENDSHIP, ■ '9' Dame Dorothy, . • • '99 VIII. LOVE, . ■ 2I9 A Tale of True Love, . Contents. VIII

Part II. Studies

Chap I GODLINESS, . • 259 Miss Viol, ..... 270 II. KINDLINESS, . .282 Nurnberg Eggs, .... 288

Part III. Dangers

Chap I. FASHION, . . . 321 French Dolls, ..... 330 II. THE LIFE OF PRIDE AND LEVITY, . 349 The Rooms in the Old House — The First Room, 355 III. THE LIFE OF SENSE AND HEAVINESS, . 359 The Second Room, .... 363 IV. THE LIFE OF SARCASM AND BITTERNESS, 371 The Third Room, .... 375 V. THE LIFE OF SELF-SACRIFICE, .382 The Fourth Room, .... PAPERS FOR THOUGHTFUL GIRLS.

Part I

— GIFTS. A

Chapter I. Youth

What opposing aphorisms have we not in our minds concerning youth ! What said the wise man in his irony ? — " Rejoice, O young man — but for all these things God will bring thee into judgment." What in his gentleness ? — " Remem ber now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them." What have our poets not sung, and our philosophers not taught ? The one tells us to save our youth, and put it to an enduring profit ; while the other contradicts him flatly, and urges us to lavish our spring-time, that we may drink to the full the cream of earthly enjoyment — that veriest "foam-bell on the river." How many chapters in life are to this day headed with old Herrick's lines, " Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying ;" making sad the Christian hearts which cannot un derstand them in a wide sense.

For there is a sense which unites the poles, the spending and the sparing, the bright and the sedate. But however we may read these advices, there is no greater mistake than to suppose that youth is necessarily the choice period, the green spot of life. To some it has not even the buoyancy and light heartedness which is its ordinary portion. To not a few, cares and trials come while the frame is yet in its fresh vigour, and the eyes are sparkling with their first bold, blithe look out on the world. To almost all, youth is a power which hurries them to its goal ; the young heart is " hot and restless ;" it will not take time to appreciate its treasures ; it will not be satisfied with its goodly possession ; it is full of uncertain desires, and wayward inclinations, and passionate impulses ; it is grasping and straining and striving after a vague, uncompre hended good, an airy or ornate, ill-proportioned ideal ; it is troubled with its ignorance of its own destiny, its unresolved will, its undeveloped circumstances.

Youth is not often the cycle of peace. Do not fear then, young girls, to leave behind you the gaily-jested -over or mincingly mentioned epoch of your teens. Do not dread Youth 5 growing graver or even stouter. With ripe wo manhood, and the still, mellow decline of life are won, and often and often only then won, rest, power, wisdom, content. There may be a great garner in store for your future, there will be an abundant harvest if you will but sow in grace. It is a half pagan, and wholly untrue notion, to associate all blessedness of existence, with rash, heady, crude youth. Fight the fight, and run the race, and the older you grow the more royally you will prove the conqueror, and the grander will prove your prize. But the important question now is, how to em ploy this youth so as to make of its notes some of the sweetest and gladdest of the melody which be gan softly in the cradle, and which, if not drowned in the clang and discord of idol music and devil wor ship, should swell until it joins the chorus of the skies.

The writer supposes herself speaking to those who are very weak, very unstable, very err ing, very imperfect, as she is ; but who are in earnest, as even girls can be in earnest, about Christianity and their duty ; who would con their lesson and practise their calling humbly, modestly, perseveringly to the end. She is aware from ex perience that not a tithe of girls of a contrary spirit would listen, even from curiosity, to these papers ; and they do not consequently come within the scope of her argument. Only to them she would say, once and for all, solemnly, wistfully, and affectionately, it is a piteous sentence which they are preparing to pass on themselves — to refuse to come to the Father for life, the Elder Brother for love, the Holy Spirit for light. Idleness, disobedience, and rebellion, unless great mercy interpose, must sow the wind to reap the whirlwind.

" I do not know what I shall do with myself after I leave school," says many a good girl, doubtfully and regretfully. She need not be ashamed of the difficulty ; her position is a pro blem of the present day. How to train the facul ties of women, to gather up and employ their energies, how to provide for them a quiet and noble sphere, at once consistent with their de pendence and their dignity, how to furnish with suitable objects the disengaged capacities and ac tivities of mature single women, are considerations engaging a host of the great and good — enough with a blessing to bring women's affairs to a happy issue. The solution is not found, but it may not be distant. The advices run in this direction : — Shall the girl return to the pickling and preserving, the herb-gathering and doctoring, the primitive housewifery and sempstresship of her great-grandmother ?

Shall the Protestant girl borrow a lesson from Catholic humanity, and, while she abjures asceticism, enthusiasm, and unnatural vows, be come a deaconess instead of a sister of charity, have her role regularly laid down, of teaching the ignorant, nursing the sick, feeding the hungry, and Youth 7 clothing the naked ? Or, shall she discover her bent like a boy, pursue her profession fearlessly and innocently, achieve independence, and from her own lawful earnings endow and cheer her own dear home, and let the rays from that centre of love and charity stream forth on every poor, stinted, burdened, desolate home on earth ? Probably the answer lies in a union of the whole three — in domesticity, alms-deeds, and independence, woven into a Christian crown. But, at the outset, keep in mind the following data.

While thoughtful men are pondering women's questions, let girls show that they have not made their petitions in self-conceit. Let them remember that women themselves have laboured to impress upon them that " the woman's head is the man." Let them not forget that the great apostle would not suffer women to usurp autho rity ; that at fathers' and brothers' and husbands' feet they should sit so loyally and willingly, resting their heads on their knees, taking them as their masters — the representatives of the Great Master — and learning of them the truth in submission. Let girls especially, while conflicting opinions are at work, think more of their duties than their rights. Woman's rights ! Foolish women have made the words a scandal in the ears of the com munity. True and tender women in their in tegrity and delicacy have revolted at the term, and avowed they had enough, they had what they would, they were satisfied, they felt their lots were in their own keeping; they would have none of such bold, boisterous, bragging advocacy.

They sympathized with good old Mrs. Grant of Laggan, when she wrote, " I have no ambition to hear thc modern belles declare their ' dark sayings on the harp,' till such time as I am convinced that they stay more at home, have less vanity, and make better wives and daughters than formerly." It is a great fact, that under Providence a girl's lot is comparatively in her own hands. She may not have the clearness, the conviction, or the satisfaction which she might enjoy from a direct road in life plainly set before her, and a busy heart, head, and hand improving its rough places and its smooth ; she may sigh, long, pray, after what would be at once greater guidance and greater freedom ; but all things that are essential to her safety and happiness are hers. When her poor little head is puzzled with doubts and distrac tions, when her brothers and cousins laugh at her wants and distresses, and tell her that a woman should only be ornamental, that the more useless she is the more she is answering their sense of fitness, that a strong-minded woman is an anomaly, and therefore the weaker-minded she proves the better for her and every one connected with her ; when one friend is all for meditation and endurance, and another for reform and activity ; when one speaks out her experience, and another veils it to her last louth 9 breath, — let the little one escape from the labyrinth by thinking not of herself, by doing what is nearest and simplest to her hand, by living as much as possible in the wellbeing of others.

The intri cacies of artificial life will never entangle and confound her more than she is able to bear. The ram has been caught in the thicket that will atone for her errors, as well as for her sins. If it be the Divine will that compulsory waiting and irregular working, which men so largely ordain for women, should last as long as the universe, if actually the rule is irreversible and unavoidable, and men are as innocent of it as women themselves, nevertheless let her lift up her head, for her redemption draweth nigh. The secret of happiness here and hereafter, the gold thread of youth, lies in loving God and loving our neighbour, loving them early if it be yet pos sible, loving them well ; losing one's own life in theirs, becoming guileless and docile, meek and reverent in our intercourse with them, loving them long, yea, for ever.

These Papers are written with a diffident but yearning wish to aid young girls in their aim at so lofty and beautiful a con clusion. They are intended to steady their views, to comfort and confirm them, to help them (in weakness) in trying to contemplate by the broad light of God and the gospel, some of the things which are before them. These things consist of those gifts and faculties (in which youth is in- Papers for Thoughtful Girts. 10 eluded) that necessarily and inevitably occupy much of their notice ; those pursuits which form part of the nurture and growth of the soul ; those stumbling-blocks which beset their road ; those encouragements which will enable them to lift holy hands, without wrath or doubting, which will preserve them our own bright, trusting, eager, joyous young people, till God shall please to lay upon them the responsibilities and the labours of more advanced years.

OUR SISTER GRIZEL. Two hundred years ago, down in the south of Scotland, stood an old turreted house, the home of a country family of rank and consequence. It was a grim enough dwelling, nevertheless, with slits of windows, high, steep roof, and low, battered door. The pleasure-ground was limited to a neglected herb-garden, which closely adjoined the church yard of a homely little parish church, so that the farm-yard and poultry-yard presented the liveliest attractions of the policies. The whole aspect of the house was bleak ; and within its damp-stained lichened walls reigned strict discipline, heavily over clouded by family reverses, troubles, and dangers. It was a hard home for a fanciful young girl, yet Youth 11 here was born, grew, and flourished our sister Grizel. The chill east wind swept blightingly around her, and pinched the very elder-bush by the kirkyard wall, but Grizel and the blue-bells flourished notwithstanding.

Her diet of catechism and unquestioning obedience was as ample as her diet of cake and pudding was scant, but Grizel throve upon them both, grew up straight-backed and open-faced, and sang as she span at her wheel. Fortunately for Grizel, she was not the only child of engrossed parents, or of those stern, rough, but upon the whole, not unkind servants. She had many brothers and sisters, and probably they were her benign safeguards against austerity and fanaticism ; yet it is well-nigh impossible to ima gine Grizel growing up morbid and harsh under any circumstances. If all our girls were but as hardy and affectionate as Grizel ! In these two qualities, quite as much as in her tender imagination, lay her double success. Which of our girls has a home so barren of comfort, indulgence, and spright liness, so burdened with sorrow as Grizel's ? and yet Grizel's youth, like her age, was bountiful in benevolence and joy.

We warrant Grizel rose with the lark, and like the lark was made glad by the mere stinging fresh ness of the early morning. Grizel did not grudge her morning prayers, she only grieved that she was not always so hearty in her petitions as she should have been. In order to relieve her weary, downcast mother, Grizel presided over the thin porridge and blue milk, for even in the country mansion the distress was so great that the daily provisions were scarce. She dispensed the doles with the most upright exactness, soundly cuffed the little brother who helped himself to an additional spoonful with out her permission, but took the baby sister in her lap and fed her out of her own dish. How pretty it was to see Grizel in the flaxen-haired, bright cheeked fairness and bloom of her twelve or thir teen summers, holding the year-old baby, coaxing it to open its cherry of a mouth, slowly and care fully shovelling in the portion of well-mixed por ridge and milk, and drumming the baby triumph antly on the back with the handle of the spoon when the spoonful was over, in all the skilled ease and pleasure of a motherly nurse of fifty.

But do you think that breakfast was Grizel's most impor tant duty, or that her lessons, and her spinning, and her attempts at household economy, and exer cises at cantering her pony under some laird's Jock, were the limits of Grizel's obligations ? A world wide of it. Never young girl had a more difficult part to play. In addition to sums in arithmetic, no longer theory but practice, and secrets which might have caused middle-aged heads to grow grey, little, sensible, spirited Grizel was trusted with feats of diplomacy which would have baffled wary, crafty statesmen. The political and religious disorder and misery of Youth 13 the time were very great. Grizel's parents were of the protesting, Covenanting party. Her father had been rash, and had anticipated the national constitutional rising which called in the Prince of Orange ; he had aided and abetted, and shown his person in an ineffectual northern landing.

He was pursued as a rebel, while he lay in hiding, cooped up in cramps and cold behind the false boarding in a room in his own house ; and at one time he was driven to the dreadful chill and gloom of the family burial-vault in the neighbouring kirkyard. And all this while the soldiers — the dreadful " red coats " of the enemy — were perforce quartered on the family, and shared their stinted meals. Grizel wns not only cognisant of these facts, but she was employed as the chief agent in managing their complicated machinery. It is passing strange to us how the girl managed ; how she contrived to carry food and comfort to her father, who depended upon her principally both for meat and cheer ; how she eluded the vigilance, and diverted the attention of the soldiers. It is said she propitiated them, and what this amounted to you will know when you reflect that your bailiff of modern days, with his bad name for harshness and coarseness, is a mild fine gentleman when contrasted with the drinking, dicing, cursing soldier of Charles the Second's era.

It is impossible to suppose that these bearded, gross, violent men could have been other than good-humoured and obliging to the child, or else she would never have effected her purpose. The truth was, Grizel had a dash of Jenny Denison in her character ; the bright, bold, fearless little girl was an innocent coquette. She had ample sympathies and fine discrimination. She could understand something of the original constitution of these bluff soldiers; she had a lurk ing admiration for their manliness, befouled as it was with sin. She instinctively seized on what was left of truth and kindness in those case-hardened, corrupted hearts. And the rude, depraved men were won by the little mistress who was not frightened at them, who burst out laughing in their faces at any incongruity in the quantity of meat she first heaped upon her plate and then slipped into her apron.

They knew her and spoke of her among themselves as the little greedy wench, who drank their healths (young sprig of Presby terianism as she was) over the hall table ; who stopped and asked them of their campaigns as they cleaned their belts and burnished their buckles, whistling round the front-door ; and who even sat on the kirkyard-wall, and sang to them her country songs. Grizel was always famous for her songs. If our girls could sing like Grizel, they would wile the bird from the tree. There are very contradictory opinions rife of Grizel's father. Probably he was a passionate man hard pressed ; he certainly was one of the plotters of his generation. He had small scruple in making Youth. 15 use of his little Grizel. He not only availed him self of her wit and energy in procuring the supply of his daily wants, but he despatched her on his difficult and dangerous errands.

One can fancy that Grizel might have had little enough inter course with her turbulent, stout Presbyterian father until his adversity. Then when he lurked a sorry prisoner where he had ruled with a high hand ; when there were no more stir and strong excitement for him, but when he had to endure the dismal blank of a helpless and well-nigh hope less captivity, then he must have turned to bright Grizel, watched for her light step, listened to her prattle of her strategies, laughed his low, short laugh at her pranks, gradually talked with her as to an older person of his straits, trusted her with his desperate projects, and thought when she left him again in silence and shade, what a clever lass she was, how dutiful and devoted, not falling be hind her poor broken-spirited mother one straw's breadth.

He must have wondered, with long sighs, if he would ever reach those low countries of which he talked, and sail with Grizel in those queer, flat-bottomed boats with the gay houses on their decks, or sit smoking at the windows where the fresh waving trees shaded the dusty streets, with Grizel to fill his pipe, and amuse him with her quick, shrewd observations on the passers-by. Hume of Polwarth did not hesitate on a point or two. Once, on a push, he made Grizel be forwarded as the bearer of a letter to his fellow-rebel and fellow-sufferer, Baillie of Jerviswoode, lying in Edinburgh Tolbooth. No doubt the occasion was an urgent one ; but think of Grizel entering the low-browed, iron-studded doors of the old Heart of Mid-Lothian, and with the knowledge of high treason perilling her father's head, and weighing like lead on her heart ; think of her stumbling in her old-fashioned sacque and screen, with her crop of flaxen hair standing on end with sheer terror — stumbling along these dismal pas sages and by the barred windows after the gruff, impatient turn-key, who rattled his huge keys, quite dead to the playful wiles which mellowed the lazy, roystering soldiers.

Think of Grizel in the cell where Baillie sat in his soiled coat and crushed cravat, spelling out his Bible in the dim light, and mentally calculating what was like to be the short progress between the jail and the Grassmarket. A marvel that the carrier pigeon did not drop at his feet. Jerviswoode must have reckoned his friend at a loss for a servant, but he read, with many a deep groan and angry ejaculation, the letter in its barbarous cipher, sent with speed and care by a trusty hand, and requiring an answer to be lodged in the same innocent keeping. Another than old Jerviswoode, despondent and displeased, stared at the child as at a world's wonder. His son George, a lad of twenty and odds, looked so steadfastly at the brave. Youth 17 intelligent face, cowed as it then presented itself, that he remembered years after, across the seas, with what reluctant, pitiful eyes the child looked on his father's disgrace ; with what implicit con fidence she placed her hand in his, the hand still rough, red, and chubby in its child's roughness, the hand that still swung bags and baskets and water ing-pans, and flung stones and flourished sticks in games with little brothers, at putting the stone and shinty — still a boyish hand even in its feminine round ness ; he remembered how she grasped his long fingers with a boy's frankness all the way back through the prison courts and passages, and how she told him, as he lifted her on to the big-boned horse at the gate, " the bear was in braird down at Redbraes."

The sentence sounded as if she were eager to shut her eyes on this black, beetling, noisy, inhospitable town, and shut out with it all thoughts of men's scrapes and men's rage and an guish, and open them on the green fields of her years and sex. Unless in rare instances, Grizel held that capacity of looking up from the miry earth straight into the clear sky all her life long, and these instances when Grizel's courage and cheerfulness failed her only bring her more home to our hearts. When Hume of Polwarth stole abroad in disguise, es caped to a ship, and found refuge in a foreign coun try ; when his wife and children joined him there ; when the old household were living in comparative B security and peace, but in dulness, economy, and toil* among the storks and frogs, fat burghers and fair vrows of Holland, one of the blows fell which struck poor Grizel to the earth, and caused the dauntless, indefatigable child, the good fairy, the sweet singer of her own songs, to crouch, sob bing, on her knees.

" But the death of her friends was always a load too heavy for her," said her daughter, speaking of her mother's buoyant spirit and activity. No wonder, Grizel. What could the faithful fondness, the acute wit, the unflinch ing endurance, work against the last enemy ? all baffled, all lost there. When the yellow fogs travelled on sluggish wings across the damp flats of Holland, and clasped with a chill, tight hand the "little neck" of Grizel's dear sister — that sister who walked hand in hand with her, gazing vvith keen eyes on the strange flax-fields, or chards, tileries, and tulip-beds — and comparing them of nights with the broomy braes and hazel dens of that Scotland which she would never see again, — the cold, relentless grasp wrung out the young swelling, budding life in a few gasps and spasms of mortal agony.

Then Grizel sank powerless as the dead before her ; she did not wail * Her daughter writes of Grizel at this time : " She went to the market, went to the mill to have their com ground (which it seems is the way with good managers), dressed the linen, cleaned the house, made ready the dinner, mended the children's stockings and other clothes, and made what she could for them ; and, in short, did everything." On another occasion she records that Grizel would sit up for a whole night to work lace ruffles, in which her brother Patrick might apper.r among his equals. owth 19 or cry ; she had even weak flitting visions of sub mission and resignation piercing the thick pall ; for she was a godly child, who had striven to order her conversation aright, and had offered God thanks and praise in many a joyous time that was gone by.

Tenacious natures like Grizel's, though sanctified by grace, will weep tears of blood ere they can relinquish their treasures. Grizel passed through the fiery trial, and her life blos somed anew ; but one fibre of Grizel's warm heart stretched away from these dreary deserts to the glorious, holy heavens ; one pulse throbbed with patient but wistful throbs, for entrance into the pure ranks above, for renewed communion with one who had grown wise with a guileless but in effable wisdom, and tender with an inexhaustible tenderness. There was a great gathering of douce Scotch folk in that Dutch town-hall where Sir George Baillie was troth-plighted to Grizel Hume. They were exiles ; but the dry Scotch humour, the broad flashes of a strong race's hilarity, rose re freshed and shone forth in compliment to the occasion.

If the troubles continued, the plenish ing would have been but poor, the house keeping arranged on the most rigid principles of Scotch thrift; but do you think for a moment such trifles could dismay Grizel ? She has left to us the song which, in the character of a shepherdess, she sang to the accompaniment of a cracked harpsichord, while enamoured Sir George stood by her side, leaning against the great Dutch clock with its moon of a face encircled with a full wreath of convolvuluses and roses. " Though our toom purse had barely twa bodies to clink, And a barley-meal scone were the best in our bink ; Yet he with his hirsel, and I with my wheel, Through the howe o' the year we would fend unco weel. Grizel saw better days ; returned to Scotland at the Revolution ; lived in state and bounty in her own land, and among her own people.

The last glimpse we have of her is a very piquant one of a very old lady smiling and nodding over the sports of her grandchildren. Most girls, in Scotland at least, know the out lines of the story of Grizel Hume ; but she is known more as a heroine of the Covenant than as an original, independent, living, loving woman. She is not known as she should be in her sweet, quaint songs, and in the cordial biography of her daughter. I would fain have shown, in a few words, how happy and generous was her troubled youth ; how affectionate and constant her tried middle age ; how she fulfilled the proverb, " keep a stey heart for a steep brae ;" how she was spared to end her life as a blessed and blessing woman, with a loving daughter for her chronicler, and a fair descendant to bear down to a distant genera tion her honoured name.

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu left it as her shrewd, caustic, concise opinion that no greater obstacle could exist to a girl's prospects in the world than the reputation of talents. Therefore if a victim had the misfortune to inherit them, Lady Mary coolly and craftily advised her to hide them as closely as possible. Poor brilliant Lady Mary ! None knew better the hollowness which may attend on wit ; and the large, liberal spirit which brought to her country the benefit of inocu lation was cramped, withered, and tainted. Since Lady Mary's day, opinions have altered, and stan dards have changed. The dangers which attend intellect in a woman are now private and personal ones, with which the world does not interfere ; and the blessing of it has been demonstrated so honestly and so largely, that now-a-days few even require, with Richard Lovel Edgeworth, to combat a good literary Dr. Day's antagonism to a literary daughter.

Still, in one sense — that of settlement in life by marriage — the great aim at which Lady Mary pointed, — intellect, pure weight and force and re finement of mind, apart from all cunning, is rather disadvantageous than advantageous to the holder. Assumed the generality of men to be of ordinary capacities, of course the probability of the woman out of the generality of women (that is, of extra ordinary capacity) meeting her mate, is greatly lessened, although not to the extent' that is generally supposed. For while she is apt to frame to herself a standard in correspondence with her own faculties, and to be repelled by the shallow, dull, blunt crowd around her, there is, on the other hand, often untold magnanimity in a clever woman — a largeness of heart, along with a largeness of head, which acts as an antidote, and enables her to sink her cleverness to its due level. 61 Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever,"' she murmurs.