®fje library of tfre IHmbersitp ofj^ottl) Carolina (gnbotoeb fcp ®[je Btalecttt anb Pfjilantfjroptc ^orieiteg This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on the day indicated below: UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL lllllllllill 00022229982 *■ <: s T3 . -; . 'S i ' an is ; - i m, L83^ . I THE GIRL'S WEEK-DAY BOOK PUBLISHED BY THE LONDON RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY. V>Qr-»-\V. *J) 4 .(18 351...--' That our Daughters maylje as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace." — Psalm cxliv. 12- NEW-Y OR K.- william JACKSON, 53 CEDAR-STREET M DCCC xxxvi. w G. F. Hopkins & Son, Printers. t CONTENTS, INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. — Page 1. The Writer. — Her young Friends. — Occasion of the Book. — Importance of Females. — Prayer. CHAPTER I. — Page 7. The Writer's Birth-place. — Family Afflictions. — Chastisement. — Pleasures of Gayety. — A Journey. — Newcastle Staircase. — Nurse's Ditties. — See-saw. — An" Artful Servant. — Public Worship. — Dr. Earle. — Darkness and Light. — Dr. Watts's Songs. — The Drowning Fly. — Illness. — Respect for Minis- ters. — Infant Criticism. — Lilliputian Candles. — Printing. — An Experiment. — A Distinction. — Grateful Recollections. CHAPTER II. — Page 29. One Thing at a Time. — Working Parties. — Society and Soli- tude. — An only Child. — Music. — Delicate Health. — Over Indulgence. — School Regularity. — Waste. — Profanity. — Gluttony. — Nick-names. — Trifling with the words of Scrip- ture.— A Foolish Wish. — David Dale. — The Scotch Clergy- man. — Unjust Suspicions. — The Bed of Tulips. — Striped Grass. — The Bachelor's Present. — The Universal Spelling Book. — The Twelve Wonders. — Six Years Old. — Dolls. — Meddling Punished. CHAPTER III.— Page 56. Samplers and Copy-books. — Our Works outlive us. — Sentiments and Wishes about Life and Death. — Going to School. CHAPTER IV —Page 70. School Anecdotes. — My Governess. — Dr. Watts. — School Plays. — Skipping. — Exercise. — Birds, Beasts, and Fishes. — The Dolphin. — The Lion. — Goose and Swan. — Dog. — My Lady's Toilet. — Invention. P * IV CONTENTS. CHAPTER V.— Page 92. School Anecdotes continued. — Conversing in French. — "Writing from Dictation. — Precision. — Expletives. — Questions at the Dinner Table. — The Ostrich. — Precious Possessions. — Mr. B., the Writing Master. — Exercises. — Letters. — Habits. — Punishments. — The Lying Apron. CHAPTER VI. — Page 111. School Anecdotes continued. — A Parcel from Home. — A Day out. — The Manor House. — The Parsonage. — A Happy Death. — Mr. and Mrs. H. — Death of Mr. H. — Cuiing Dis- likes. — Unjust Suspicion. — The Farm-house Visit. — Wan- sted. — Superstition. — Disappointment overruled. — Election- eering. — Death of School-fellows. — Breaking up. — Going Home. CHAPTER VII. — Page 153. Hints and Exemplifications. — Importance of the Period of Youth and Education.— Application. — Smattering. — Curmudgeon. — Anon, and Ibid. — Correcting Mistakes. — Canvass Work. — Circumspection. — Possessing a Watch. — Perseverance. — Churning Butter. — The Nut Trees. — Fancy Work. — Story of Matilda and Martha. — Useless Labour. — Aunt Rennie. — My Sister's Cap. — Acquiring a Library. — Fictitious Books. — Con- scientious Regard to Truth. — Lavish Supply of Money. — Sto- ry of Miss J. — Prudent Disposal of Property. — Value of Arith- metic. — The Two Cousins. — Accumulation. — The Wander- ing Sow. — The Poplar Trees. — Chinese Proverb. — Instability of Worldly Possessions. — Story of the Girl with a Hundred Frocks. — Charles Bailey. — The Young Widow. — The Teach- er. — Ambition and Contentment. — Compensative Goodness of God. — The Maimed Hand. — The Blind Woman. — Emu- lation and Envy. — Taking Places in Class. — Pride of Con- nexion. — Curiosity and Tattling. CHAPTER VIII.— Page 199. Dress and Admiration. — A Conversation. — Respectful Demean- our to Parents and Aged Persons. — Brothers and Sisters. — Servants. — School Friendships. — Letter Writing. — ■ Educa- tion at Home. — Conduct to a Governess. — Semblance of Vir- tues. — Magnanimity and Meekness Compatible. — Sensibility and Gentleness contrasted with Affectation. — Presence of Mind. — Holy Scripturess. — Study of Evidences. — Anecdote of Hume. — Claims. — Religious Impressions. — Do not Stifle or Resist them. — Do not Procrastinate. — Do not rest in mere Feeling. — Encouragement. — Consistency. — Persecution. — Sunday-School Teaching. — Education finished. THE GIRL'S BOOK INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. MT DEAR YOUNG LADIES : When a book is put into your hands, you very naturally desire to know something of the writer, and the circumstances in which it originated. Some things, such as the sentiments of the writer, will be best gather- ed from the book itself; and I trust to your discernment both to find them out, and to judge whether they are cor- rect. You may, perhaps, be interested in knowing, at the outset, that the book is written by a lady, because you will conclude that she has passed through scenes, cir- cumstances, and feelings, something like your own. I will farther inform you, that I have two little girls of my own, who frequently bring to my recollection circum- stances which I might otherwise have entirely forgotten : moreover, that I feel a very affectionate interest in girls in general, and often wish it were in my power to pro^ mote their improvement and happiness. I love to see girls lively and cheerful ; and though I am not so young myself, as I was five-and-twenty years ago, I can smile at the innocent mirth, and am sometimes called upon in a party of young folks to show the little ones a cunning place at hide-and-seek, and to puzzle the elder girls with riddles, or entertain them with a story of olden times. I am pleased, I hope not proud, to believe myself a favour- ite with my young friends ; for they are often contriving 1 2 THE GIRL'S BOOK. to show me some little kindness. Among them, I am well supplied with pincushions, netting-cases, and other fancy articles. When I have a set of shirts in hand, one begs to stitch the collars and wristbands, another to set on the gathers, and one very little girl assures me she can hem pocket-handkerchiefs neatly, if I will but try her. Besides which, as it has sometimes happened, that when they have come to pay me a visit, I have been suffering from a bad head-ache, one of the elder girls has sat with me, and waited upon me as carefully as a nurse, and the rest have amused themselves quietly in the garden, or with books and pictures, lest any romping play within doors should disturb me. I have sometimes also had the pleasure of such conversations with the dear young people, as led me to hope they were beginning to inquire after God ; and, even after they have left the place where I live, some of them have sent me very kind and affec- tionate letters. You will not, therefore, wonder that I love them dearly ; and I believe there is no love lost be- tween us. Sometimes the company of my own dear girls, or their young friends, leads me to think of the faults and follies of my childhood, and to warn them against that which injured or endangered me. Sometimes I am led to think of the superior advantages of girls in the present day, to those enjoyed in my time ; but lest this should dispose me to murmur, I reflect with gratitude on my own ad- vantages, compared with those of my grandmother. Then we get talking upon old stories, and one says, " Do tell us something that happened when you were a little girl ;" and another, " Pray, ma'am, do indulge us with a sight of your grandmother's copy-book and sam- pler ;" and then they say that it is too dark to read or INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. 3 work ; and they have skipped till they are hot and tired ; and nothing would be so delightful as another story, just till the candles and tea things come in. And if no story presents itself to my recollection, my girls are always ready to prompt me. And so they draw me on from one story to another; and the conclusion generally is, " Well, it really ought to be printed in a book." Now you must know, that last Christmas one of my sons (for I have sons as well as daughters) was present- ed with an elegant little volume, called "The Boys' Week-day Book." After looking it over, one of my young visiters asked, " And pray is there a ■ Girls' Week-day Book 1 ?' — if not, I do consider it a great shame ; — we have as much right to be cared for as the boys ; we may be of as much consequence, if we live to grow up : indeed, I heard my papa say that he thought, if any thing, the education of girls was of more impor- tance than that of boys, because women have so much to do in teaching their children, whether boys or girls, while they are little : he said he had never known an in- stance of a great and good man who had a weak and silly mother ; and that if the girls of the present day were neg- lected, there would be no hope of a generation of wise and virtuous men. Now, don't you think, Mrs. White, that there ought to be a girls' book as well as a boys' 1 " Before I could deliberate on this important question, sufficiently to give a decided answer, another young voice inquired, " And don't you think, that if dear Mrs. White would but write down all the stories about herself, when she was a little girl, and her parents, and governesses, and schoolfellows, it would make a very good book for girls 1 " — " Yes, that I do," responded a third ; " I 4 THE GIRL'S BOOK. should like it ten times better than wonderful stories of things that never really did happen." * " But, my young friends," I suggested, " what good would result from it? for we should never either speak or write without having something to say that may be both interesting and profitable to those who hear or read." " Very true, ma'am ; but what can be more pleasant and instructive than to know that grown up persons, es- pecially those we love, used to think and feel, when they were children, the same as we do now? — -and how they got into scrapes when they did wrong ? — and how they were cured of their bad habits ? — and to hear about old- fashioned people and ancient customs ? Do, dear Mrs. White, begin writing the book directly ; will you be so kind?" I promised to give the subject due consideration, and was inclined to comply with the request of my young friends, especially as I remembered that nothiug used to entertain me so much as when my dear mother would tell me some of her " auld warld stories," as my father used to call them ; and though I had heard them over and over again, I never grew tired of them, but often used to moralize over them, and repeat them to my school- fellows. It occurred to me, therefore, that if I could re- member the substance of some of the conversations which I have already alluded to, with some other particulars that might occur to my recollection, it might not only be in- teresting to my own young friends, but, if published, ♦Note for American Girls. — It is much more common in England than in this country, for parents to receive a young lady into the family to take charge of the education and manners of the children. Such a teacher, as well as one at school, is called a governess. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS. 3 might be the means of amusing and instructing many other girls of the same age. On attempting, in compliance with the urgent request of my young friends, to put together these pages, I feared but little interest would attach to what I had to say, and more than once was almost induced to abandon the de- sign ; but when next they paid me a visit, the first ques- tion was, " And how does the book get on V 1 — " And I hope you have put in the story about the monument." " And pray, ma'am, don't forget the story about Ann Hoys." — " And be sure, Emily, you remind your mam- ma of the thieves breaking into her school." Thus I was urged on, from step to step, and no rest allowed me till I had promised that, life and health permitting, next Christmas I should have the pleasure of presenting my young female friends with a book, similar in design and execution to that with which, last Christmas, their bro- thers were so much delighted. There was, however, one condition which I urged on them : it was, that they would pray for a blessing, both on their friend in writing, and afterwards on themselves in reading ; for, dear young people, if this book, or any other book you read, becomes really profitable to you, it must be through the influence of the Holy Spirit, who alone can give the ability to in- struct, and bestow on the learner a willing, tractable, and obedient heart. " If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not." — Let the reader think of this, and practise it, as she reads this volume. Before I close this introductory address, I must just observe, that it would take up too much room to relate every thing in the form of conversation with my young friends, though most of it was brought to my recollection 1* 6 THE GIRL'S BOOK. by one or other of them. I shall, therefore, simply tell my own tale, except as it may now and then be necessary to introduce it with the remark or circumstance which called it forth. In that case it will be marked with the name of the little girl who occasioned it. My own girls are Agnes and Emily. Agnes is of a steady, thoughtful turn ; very much disposed to inquire into the causes and reasons of things. She is seldom much elated or much depressed in spirits. Emily is of a more sentimental cast. No girl in the world laughs more heartily at an innocent joke ; and no girl feels more keenly any afflic- tion that befalls those she loves. She sometimes need- lessly distresses herself about trifling or unavoidable cir- cumstances ; such as the death of a cat that had attained the good old age of twenty-three years, or the breaking an apple-tree by the late high wind, which was planted the day her eldest brother was born. However, they are both of them dear, good, affectionate girls. My other young friends I shall call Elizabeth, Sarah, Harriet, Ann, Ruth, Eleanor, Maria, Jane, Sophia, and Rose. Some of these girls are placed at a school where there is great attention paid to the cultivation of their minds and the regulation of their conduct, as well as to the out- ward branches of accomplishment. The rest of my young friends are educated at home; under a judicious mother, or an experienced and conscientious governess. Their ages vary from six to sixteen. The penetration of my young readers will lead them to discover from the Eemarks of each of my visiters, as much as is necessary of the peculiar circumstances of each. I remain, The reader's affectionate friend And well-wisher, DOROTHY WHITE. CHAPTER I. THE WRITER'S BIRTH-PLACE .— FAMILY AFFLICTIONS. — CHASTISEMENT. — PLEASURES OF GAYETY. — A JOURNEY. NEWCASTLE STAIR-CASE.— NURSE'S DITTIES. — SEE-SAW. — AN ARTFUL SERVANT. — PUBLIC WORSHIP. — DR. EARLE. — DARKNESS AND LIGHT DR. WATTS's SONGS. — MISS AND MAS- TER. THE DROWNING FLY. ILLNESS. — RESPECT FOR MINISTERS. — INFANT CRITICISM. — LILLIPUTIAN CANDLES. — PRINTING. — AN EXPERI- MENT. — A DISTINCTION. — GRATEFUL RECOLLECTIONS. It was one evening, about an hour before our usual tea-time, that my young friends came to me, and begged me to tell them something about my birth-place and the days of my childhood. They had been very diligent in reading, and amiable in their conduct all the afternoon ; so I thought I would indulge them. Accordingly, when they had closed their books, and seated themselves be- fore me, I proceeded to inform them that I was born at Hackney, about two miles from London ; but of that sit- uation I have no recollection, as my parents moved when I was but a few months old. 8 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Agnes. Was it a nice house, mamma, and how came your parents to leave it 1 Mother. I believe it was a very nice house, but it was the scene of very heavy affliction to my dear parents. Besides the loss of five children in infancy, they were there called to part, in one week, with their only son, a most promising boy between eight and nine years old, and a lovely little girl, between five and six. Agnes. And then I suppose they could not bear the place ; I should have felt just the same. Emily. And I should have felt just the reverse. I should have let every thing remain exactly in the same place ; and I should have gone every day, perhaps every hour, to look at what belonged to them ; that would have been my greatest comfort. Mother. I think you would both have been wrong : the endeavour to banish the remembrance of sorrow, and a sentimental cherishing of the circumstances connected with it, have both a tendency to deprive us of the bene- fits which affliction is designed to impart. The proper medium is enjoined in Scripture, where we are exhorted not to despise the chastening of the Lord, nor to faint when we are rebuked of him. I think you must feel conscious of very different effects produced on your own minds by the few chastisements with which you have been exercised. Agnes. Yes, mamma, I am sure I do. Once in par- ticular I was punished, as I thought, unjustly, for having mislaid my French Grammar. The teacher would not let me have my dinner till I had found it. I recollect feeling determined that I would not seem to care about it, and said that I was not at all hungry. While the rest of the girls were at dinner, instead of looking for my FAMILY AFFLICTIONS. 9 book, I played with my doll ; not that I was really amused by it, but I was indulging a rebellious spirit, and felt an- gry and resentful against the teacher for punishing me, instead of angry with myself for my carelessness. An- other time, — I dare say mamma you remember punish- ing me for the same fault, — when papa took the rest of the children to see a caravan of wild beasts, I could not find my gloves, and you obliged me to stay at home. All the time they were gone, I kept thinking that the disap- pointment was entirely owing to my own fault, and that you served me just right in correcting me. I hope, mam- ma, that correction did me a little good, and that I have not been quite so careless since. Mother. I am happy, my dear child, to think the same ; and both in the discipline of earthly parents, and that of our heavenly Father towards his children, those chastisements alone are beneficial, which lead to a con- viction of the evil of sin, and the justice, wisdom, and kindness, that directed the infliction. " Now no chas- tening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but griev- ous ; nevertheless, afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them that are exercised thereby." Sarah. Pray, ma'am, did your parents profit by the heavy afflictions with which they were exercised 1 Mother. I hope and believe they did ; though they did not at that time so clearly perceive the design of the dispensation, or the methods of saving mercy, as at a later period of life. The loss of their children was the means of weaning them from the ^ayeties of the world, and of awakening them to a greater regard for the Holy Scriptures. Emily. That was a good thing for you, mamma, as it no doubt made them the more careful in bringing you 10 THE GIRL'S BOOK. up. And yet, mamma, I have sometimes felt a wish that we might see a little more of those pleasures that I have heard my cousins speak about. They say they hardly pass an evening during the holidays, without go- ing to a ball, or a play, or a card party. Ruth. 0, Emily! you little think what you wish. Before we came to dear Mrs. Stanton's, Eleanor and I used to go into such scenes, with one or other of our guardians. Though we did not think whether there was any harm in it, and felt pleased when we received an in- vitation, or when a party was made up for ourselves, we used to come home quite tired and disappointed. We have often said we wished never to go into a party again. But when the uncomfortable feeling had gone off, we were ready to rejoice at the next invitation. Just so, perhaps, we should always have gone on, if we had not been brought here, and taught to seek better pleasures. Eleanor. So far from wishing to go back to our for- mer pleasures, I can assure you we are quite anxious every half-year to find that we shall be permitted to spend the holidays in this happy, quiet place. Next year my uncle intends to return from India, and we are to live with him. I am sure we love him dearly, for he has al- ways been exceedingly kind to us ever since our dear parents died. And yet we quite dread the thought of his return, lest we should then again be obliged to mix in those gay scenes which I cannot bear to call pleasure. Our dear parents had no inclination for such things ; and if they had lived, we should have been kept out of the way of them. Emily. Well, I dare say you are right ; and that, instead. of wishing to know about such things, we have reason to be thankful for never having been taken among NEWCASTLE STAIRCASE. 11 them. I don't know that it was exactly a ivish, for I never think about it except when I see my cousins ; but when they make such a boast about what they enjoy, it gives one a sort of curiosity to know something about it. Agnes. Well, I would rather sit quietly around this cheerful fire, and talk with dear mamma, than go to the grandest ball that ever was known. Emily. So would I, dear Agnes, when I come to think about it. Elizabeth. Please, my dears, let your mamma go on with her story. Will you tell us, ma'am, where you lived when you left that house where you were born ? Mother. We travelled about for two years, visiting most parts of England, and went as far north as Edin- burgh. Agnes. 0, mamma, that accounts for what I have heard you say when papa asks you if you have been to such or such a place, you often reply, " I believe I have been there, but when I was too young to know any thing about it." Mother. I sometimes, however, fancy that I have a confused recollection of some incidents of that journey ; but I suppose it must be merely a sort of traditionary re- collection from what I have heard my parents, or sisters, or old nurse say. In one rather odd particular I know this was the case. At New-castle-upon-Tyne, the as- cent into the town is remarkably steep, so that nurse re- marked, it was like riding up stairs in a carriage. From that time, when she wanted me to go to bed, she would often take me up in her arms, or put me on her back, (which she called riding a-pick-a-back), and say, "Come now, let us ride up stairs to Newcastle." From this I got the idea that the ascent to the town of Newcastle 12 THE GIRL'S BOOK. was actually upon a staircase, and fancied that I could remember feeling the jolt of the carriage at every step. The impression had not forsaken me when I went to school, and I then asserted it as a fact, much to the as- tonishment of the more simple and credulous of my schoolfellows, and to the utter indignation of the rest, who accused me of deliberate falsehood. My kind go- verness took great pains both to convince me of my mis- take, and to re-establish my character for veracity among my schoolfellows. I hope this affair taught me to avoid a habit of positively asserting any thing very improba- ble, even though I may have the most powerful impres- sion of its truth. This is a lesson worth remembering by girls in general. Rose. Please ma'am, what else do you remember when you were a very little child 1 Mother. I remember some of old nurse's ditties, and, simple as they were, she somehow contrived to con- vey good sentiments by means of them. This was one — " See-saw, Jack of the hedge, Show me the way to London bridge." " One foot up, and the other foot down, That 's the way to London town." The old lady would put my play-things, or fruit, to make a feast, as she called it, in one corner of the room, which she said was London. Then, taking me to the opposite corner of the room, and setting me on her knee, she would go see-saw, and sing the first part of the ditty. Presently she would say, " dear, dear ! if we sit here, see-sawing, we shall not get to London to-day ;" then she would set me down, and make me step along the carpet, at the same time briskly singing — nurse's ditties. 13 " One foot up, and the other foot down, That's the way to London town." By this means she early impressed me with a disgust of that indolent see-saw way which some people have of wishing for things, and asking other people to help them, instead of bestirring themselves. " The sluggard," says King Solomon, " desires and has nothing, because his hands refuse to labour ;" and " The sluggard turns like the door upon its hinges," moving about, but getting no forwarder. The sluggard is always a wretched and contemptible character. I hope, my dear girls, when we have a good object in view, we shall always be dis- posed to set ahout trying for ourselves, and to persevere till we attain it. Industry and perseverance, under the blessing of God, can surmount great difficulties, and se- cure great advantages. Agnes. I dare say, mamma, you thought of old nurse's ditty when I was so out of heart about learning English history. I recollect saying to you how much I wished that I knew it as well as Elizabeth and Sarah, but that I was certain I should never be able even to re- member the names of all the kings ; and you replied, " One fact at a time, and one name at a time, and mind you set them one after another in the right place, and so you may become possessed of English history. Mother. Well, and did you find my plan succeed? Agnes. Yes, mamma, as far as I have learned any thing about it, it has been learned in the way you said — by patient application, getting one thing at a time ; but I am still far behind several of the others, and I often hear a circumstance mentioned as happening in such or such a reign, which is quite new to me. Mother. I dare say you do ; but you have so far ac- 14 THE G quired English history as to have a general idea of each reign. For example, if the wars of York and Lancas- ter should be spoken of, your mind would not for a mo- ment run to the times of the Saxon kings ; or if you heard of the sufferings of martyrs, you would hardly im- agine that they took place in the reigns of the Georges. To apply to this case the sentiment of the ditty, you have by the persevering exercise enjoined, of " One foot up and the other foot down," got over the road to " Lon- don town." But it is by going over it again and again, that you will become familiar with every turning, bridge, tree, and stile. When passing a road that you have often been before, you readily perceive if a house is built, or a tree cut down, and you can generally describe the exact spot where this alteration has taken place. So, having made yourself familiar with the outline of Eng- lish history, whenever you acquire the knowledge of any fact hitherto new to you, take pains to associate it in your mind with some other event with which you are al- ready familiar, and thus you will, by degrees, acquire both a comprehensive and correct knowledge of the sub- ject. The same remark will apply to every other pur- suit. — Begin right, and persevere ; and thus every thing really great and good may be attained. Elizabeth. Well, ma'am, and what else did your old nurse teach you 1 She must have been a sensible, good sort of woman. Mother. Yes, she certainly was a woman of good understanding, of respectable education, and one who had the fear of God before her eyes : hence she was very careful never to say or do any thing that it would be im- proper for me to observe, or repeat ; and I am to this day thankful, when recollecting the scenes of my early child- AN ARTFUL SERVANT. 15 hood, that there is nothing in connexion with my nurse that I would wish to forget. Rose. Oh! ma'am, I wish I could forget all the naughty things that I have heard our Jenny say ; I re- member once at dinner, there was some a-la-mode beef on table, which I wished to taste, but my mamma did not think it proper for me. Afterwards, Jenny called me into the kitchen, and gave me some, which I knew was very wrong after mamma had forbidden it. It made me very ill, and my poor mamma was so uneasy. How I did wish to tell her the truth, and beg her to forgive me ! but Jenny told me if I said a word about it, she would speak to an old black man, and tell him to take me away. This frightened me so much that I dared not mention it. I know now that no black man wanted to hurt me ; but it often comes into my mind still, and makes me scream out in my sleep ; and then, what was worst of all, my poor dear mamma died soon after, and I had never asked her to forgive me ; and after she was dead, Jenny used to do still worse things, and bribe or threaten me not to tell. At last papa found her out, and turned her away, and then I was sent here. But very often now I do wrong, and Mrs. Stanton often says, when I am in my bad tempers, " That may be some of naughty Jenny's doings, — but we must not have such words and actions here ;" I hope I shall forget it some time or other. Mother. Poor little Rose ! It is grievous to see a dear little motherless girl thus cruelly injured by a wick- ed unprincipled servant. My dear children, I don't want to make you tell-tales, but if ever a servant offers you any indulgence which a parent has forbidden, or if ever they say, " Don't tell your mamma," let the very first thing you do be to tell your mamma all about it ; for a 16 THE GIRL'S BOOK. servant who can be guilty of such wickedness ought not to be trusted a single hour in the presence of a child. To return to my good old nurse, of whom I always speak with grateful pleasure. She was the first who took me to the house of God. I recollect my dear mother ex- pressing a fear that she would not be able to keep me quiet, but nurse pledged herself for my good behaviour ; and her kind, yet firm manner, gave her such full com- mand over me, that I believe she never found me trou- blesome. She was very particular always to go in good time ; and if any person came in after service began, she would afterwards remark to me how very improper such a practice was, in a way that made me abhor it. It is a good thing to have a habit of being always ready in pro- per time ; and those who instil this habit on children do them a real kindness. I remember hearing my mother say, that when a child, she attended with her aunt on the ministry of Dr. Earle, who was exceedingly annoyed by some of his congregation coming in too late, and others hurrying out before the service was concluded. He once reproved the late comers, by saying he supposed they had been detained longer than they were aware of at private or family prayer ; " but," said he, " the beauty of Christian perfection, is so to order it, that one duty shall never jostle ouf another." In like manner he re- buked those who disturbed the congregation by bursting out before the service was over. Before pronouncing the benediction, he made a solemn pause, and said, " Now, you that do not want a blessing are requested to go out, and leave those who do, to enjoy it in peace." Not one of the congregation stirred, — and from that time the disturbance was never repeated. Be sure my dear young friends that you always come in time to join DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 17 the first petition, and reverently remain to receive the closing blessing. My nurse always tried to make me remember something the minister had said, if it was only one sentence ; she did not like me to drop asleep, or play with a book, or a fan, but would tell me to listen to the minister, and, perhaps, he might say something that I could understand. The first thing I noticed was that expression in prayer, " Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, Lord." When I repeated this to nurse at home, she thus simply explained it, — "When it is dark, and we cannot see, God can see us. He takes care of us, and keeps us from harm ; so we must love God, and pray to him, and then we need not mind the dark any more than the light ; thus God does lighten our dark- ness." She often used to lead me up stairs in the dark, teach- ing me to count the steps as I went up and down, and to feel about, that I might not run against any thing, and strike myself. She would also make me observe by day-light exactly where she placed the things in the drawers, and in the dark make me feel for what I wanted. Agnes. Mamma, that is just what you used to do for us, when we were little. I suppose you learned it of your nurse. Mother. Yes ; both my mother and my nurse ac- customed me to it, and having found it beneficial in more ways than one, I was desirous of imparting it to my chil- dren. It is a good thing for children to have no foolish fears about being in the dark ; a good thing to be handy at finding one's way about in the dark ; and a good thing to keep drawers in such neat order that you can as readi- ly lay your hand on an article in the dark, as in the light. Emily. I wish, mamma, I could keep my drawers as 2* 28 THE GIRL'S BOOK. tidy as you do. I often put them to rights, but they soon get out of order. Mother. 0, Emily, Emily ! that is a very see-saw sort of speech. If you really wish to be tidy, mere is nothing to hinder your accomplishing it. Remem- ber, " one foot up, and the other foot down ;" it is only putting every thing neatly in your drawers, and taking every thing carefully out, and your drawers will be al- ways tidy ; but if you throw in your things carelessly when they come from the. wash, and when you get out one article, overturn the whole pile, and never stay to replace it, do not say you wish to be tidy. It gave me pleasure to observe, that before breakfast next morning, both my little girls had set their drawers to rights ; and I have never since that time seen the linen tumbled in confusion, nor heard them complain of not being able to find a pair of stockings, or a pocket- handkerchief. My friend, Mrs. Stanton, was observing to me the other day, that her young ladies were becoming very expert at finding things in the dark, and that it was almost reckoned a disgrace among them to require a candle for fetching any thing that might be wanted in an evening. So I have reason to hope my telling them about old nurse's habits had been productive of some good. My good nurse, long before I could read, taught me to repeat several of Dr. Watts's Divine Songs for chil- dren, and very often conveyed any sentiment, caution, or reproof, in the words of one of those hymns. This helped at once to impress them on my mind, and to make me aware of the practical use to which I was to apply them. Hence, whenever I was afterwards cautioned against the sin of falsehood, or tempted to practise it, DR. WATTS's SONGS. S9 the little poem, " O 'tis a lovely thing for youth," gene- rally came into my mind with the rude picture of a naughty girl, and her mother with the rod in her hand ; and I seemed to feel myself once more on old nurse's knee, listening to her simple stories, and affectionate admonitions. Whenever also I saw a poor person, and especially if I was permitted to carry them provisions, I was exceedingly pleased if it happened to be a piece of meat of the same shape as that in the picture to the poem, entitled, " Good Resolutions." These things are tri- fling in themselves, but there is good done even by the rudest picture or the simplest sentiment that is early connected with some good feeling on the mind of a child. I could not bear to look at the picture of dogs fighting, and boys throwing stones, for my nurse told me that it was very shocking ; and I have always been dis- tressed and shocked at hearing of disputes and battles. Shall I own, that a very few years since, happening to see in a shop a copy of the very edition of Watts's Di- vine Songs, out of which I used to learn, I spent sixpence upon it, expressly for the pleasure of looking over the old pictures, and calling up old associations 1 One of my nurse's simple stories was employed to awaken in me the desire of doing good to poor children ; and another impressed on my mind sentiments of huma- nity and tenderness to insects, and dumb creatures in general. The good woman took such opportunities of telling these stories, as would exemplify the instruction she intended to convey. One of them I will relate to you. A little cousin of mine came to play with me, and be- gan to amuse himself by hunting the flies on the win- dows. I believe he had never been taught that they 20 THE GIRL'S BOOK. could feel. He looked very grave when nurse asked him how he would like a tall strong giant to come and twist off his legs and arms ; and when she told him, that the same great God who made him, made the poor little frisking fly, and could hear their cries if they were ill used by cruel children. On his promising never to do the like again, she repeated to us these pretty lines. THE DROWNING FLY. "In yonder cup behold a drowning fly, Its little wings how vainly doth it ply ; Its cries I hear not, though it loudly cries, And gentle hearts must feel its agonies. Poor helpless victim ! and will no one save ? Will no one snatch thee from the threat'ning wave ? And is there no kind hand — no helper nigh ? And must thou, little struggler, must thou die ? Thou shalt not die — this hand shall set thee free, This hand restore thee to sweet liberty. My finger's tip shall prove thy friendly shore. There, little struggler — now thy danger's o'er, Go wipe thy wetted wings, go banish care, And join thy buzzing brothers in the air. Away he flies, resumes his harmless play, And blithely gambols in the golden ray." Rose. My little brother learned some verses very much like that. It begins, " So, so, you are running away, Mr. Fly." Mother. Yes, my dear ; a very pretty little poem it is, from Nursery Rhymes, by Miss Taylor. My good old nurse had not the advantage of those valuable little books, but she made the best use of what she had. I remember one or two things more about her ; one was, her telling me about my brother and sister, who died TAKING MEDICINE. 21 when I was an infant. So much of reality was im- pressed on my mind of what she told me about their little sayings and doings, the grief of the whole family at losing them, and the full confidence that was entertained of their being now among the holy and happy children in heaven, that I fancied I had a recollection of them, which was utterly impossible. I sometimes wept to think of having lost them, and set them up as my example. If I could but be as good as they were, I must be a comfort to my parents. Nurse often prayed that this might be the case. When about three years old, I had a dangerous ill- ness. This brings to my mind one thing which nurse had taken great pains to impress upon me — sentiments of respect and reverence for the ministers of the gospel. If at any time I was perverse and naughty, she would say, how much it would grieve good Mr. W. to know that you are such a naughty girl ! During my illness, I recollect being persuaded to swallow some nauseous medicine, with the assurance that Mr. W. desired I would take it ; and that he hoped, under the blessing of God, it would do me good ; that he had sent me some lozenges to take after it ; and that he would come and see me when I was better. I well remember his visit, and his kind expressions of approbation at my obedience ; and I remember, too, feeling pleased and satisfied at his confirming the messages that had been communicated to me ; this gave me great confidence in the testimony of my parents and my nurse in future. Rose. I am sure I never believed naughty Jenny any more after she persuaded me to have on a blister, which she said would not hurt me, — and it did hurt me very much, and made a great sore place, and I tore it off in 22 TH E G IRL'S BOOK. the night ; and I heard her laugh, and tell the cook that she managed me very nicely, for she was sure she never should have got me to have it on, if she had not made me believe that it would not hurt me. Don't you think, Mrs. White, that it is very wicked to make children be- lieve what is not true 1 Mother. Yes, my dear, indeed I do ; and very fool- ish, as well as wicked. I think if you had been with me, or with Mrs. Stanton, and we had told you that the blister would put you to some pain, but that it was con- sidered necessary to prevent your having greater pain and illness, and that in a few hours the pain it occasion- ed, would be over : you would have been willing to have it on, and to lie still even while you were in pain. Rose. Yes, ma'am, I am sure I should ; I would do any thing that you or Mrs. Stanton desire, because I know you love me, and would not deceive me. Mother. Well, it was just so with my good nurse. She always treated me as a reasonable being, always spoke to me exactly as she meant, and expected me to speak the same to her; therefore, I always believed what she said, and was in general willing to comply with what she desired. During that illness, she often endea- voured to direct my infant thoughts to the Lord Jesus Christ, the gracious and condescending Friend of little children. I have a distinct recollection of one little in- cident. On my affectionately embracing her, she said, " I am glad you love me now ; you did not love me yes- terday." I replied, " I was too ill to love myself." She then told me about the blessed Saviour, when suffering dreadful agonies on the cross ; how kind he was to those around him ; how he regarded the prayer of the dying thief, provided a home for his sorrowful mother, and BOOKS. 23 prayed that his cruel enemies might be forgiven. As I got better, she read to me these delightful facts ; I hope they made some impression on my mind : certainly they awakened a desire to learn to read, that I might be able to examine them for myself. On my recovery, my dear father gave me a large box of ivory letters, with which I amused myself for hours together, and soon learned to form them into words. Soon afterwards, Mrs. Bar- bauld's Easy Lessons were given to me ; I read them again and again, till I almost knew them by heart. They were the means of rendering familiar to my mind, and imprinting on my memory, several useful common things, such as the order of the days of the week, and months of the year, with the appearances and productions of nature. But there were a few things into which I could not exactly enter. One was this. When the little boy, Charles, asked for meat at dinner, he was told that meat was not good for little boys ; " but," said his mother, "there are dumplings, and potatoes, and turnips, and carrots, and peas, and beans," and a number more vege- tables. Supposing that every thing must be exactly true which was printed in a book, I observed to my nurse, " How many saucepans there must have been on the fire to boil all these vegetables at once ! And what a large table it must take to spread all the dishes ! " Another passage at which I stumbled was, where Charles is told to put on his hat and coat, and say, " Good bye, papa. Now we are in a ship — blow, wind — sail, ship ; now we are in France." It seemed to me that the work of two or three days was crowded into a minute. And then again — Charles was called to read his ordi- nary lessons on the Sunday, the same as other days. I remember asking my nurse, and both my sisters, and, at 24 THE GIRL'S BOOK. last, my mother, if this was right. If it was right, why should I not read my regular lessons on a Sunday 1 But they all agreed that it was not quite right. " Then," thought I, " if it is not right, it is wrong ; and the person who wrote the book is not a good person ; and I shall never like the book any more." This was rather hard judgement. But it has been very justly observed, that " children are acute critics in things with which they are well acquainted, and that what offends them is generally objectionable." Emily. Well, mamma, it certainly is very provoking to read of people doing things which we are quite sure they could not do ; and as to wrong things, people ought no more to put them in a book than to do them. JWother. I hope, Emily, if ever I publish a book, it will not be found offensive to critical young ladies ; that it will be lively enough to interest them in reading it, yet sober enough to afford them real profit. I would wish not to injure their minds by what is frivolous, nor to dis- gust or deceive them by what is improbable, nor to wea- ry them with what is tedious and heavy. I think now you must have heard enough of the days of your mother's childhood. Emily. No, mamma, indeed we have not ; we want to know how long nurse lived with you, and when you began to go to school, and who were your playfellows. Mother. Soon after the illness which I have men- tioned, nurse left our house to attend upon a relation of my father's, then in a declining state of health. She re- mained with the old lady till she died, which was several years afterwards ; but she frequently called to see us, and retained a fond affection for the child she had so tenderly nursed. Several little presents which she PRINTING AN EXPERIMENT. 25 brought me were among the most valued treasures of my childhood. One of her sons was apprenticed to a tallow-chandler, and the other to a printer ; the ingenuity of each was employed for my gratification. Nurse bought me a little pair of brass candlesticks, about three ' inches high, and her son employed his leisure in contri- ving moulds, and making candles small enough to fit them. These were reckoned great curiosities among my little acquaintance ; and I was kindly supplied with them from time to time, as long as I continued to take pleasure in such childish things. The young printer furnished me with labels on coloured paper, neatly bor- dered and printed, for pasting in my books. I felt no small degree of astonishment and pleasure at seeing my own name printed, and that, not once or twice only, but at least on fifty different pieces of paper. I had no idea of the operation of printing, and supposed it must have been a work of immense labour. The only way in which I could imagine it might be performed, was that of first making a pattern, which I supposed the lad had obtained of his master, and then multiplying copies by holding the original to the window, and drawing each copy sepa- rately on a paper held over it. Soon after this, my father brought home two copies of Watts's Psalms and Hymns ; I was very much struck with the exact resemblance, and carefully examined a great many pages to see whether they began and ended alike in both books ; and entertained a most exalted idea of the skill, care, and patience, that could produce so exact an imitation. As I came frequently to see seve- ral copies of books and pictures, and to observe their exact similarity, I was mightily puzzled to account for it. - The first correct idea I formed of the nature of 3 26 THE GIRL'S BOOK. printing, was from observing the cook, by means of a metal machine called a paste-cutter, produce as many ornaments as she required for her pastry, exactly the same in size, shape, and pattern. This led me to think that books and pictures might be multiplied somewhat in the same manner, and I often wished I could see nurse's son, to ask him about it ; but as I never had an opportunity of doing so, I exercised my own specula- tions on the subject, and once got into sad trouble for inking my frock and fingers, by having dipped the said paste-cutter in ink, to try whether I could transfer its pattern to paper. My tools and materials not being at all adapted to the purpose, you may suppose that no great success attended the experiment. When at school, I learned a little more about printing by means of an in- genious play which my governess contrived for our amusement on rainy days. Agnes. Well, mamma, I am really glad that you sometimes got into trouble with touching ink. I should never have thought of your being meddlesome and mis- chievous. Was your mother very angry with you ? Mother. My mother was from home, and had no- thing to do with it. My eldest sister, who had the prin- cipal management of me, was very angry. She was taking out the ink spots with salts of lemon, and blaming me very severely, when an elderly lady called in. My sister told her what I had done, and asked her advice as to the punishment that should be inflicted. " 0," said the old lady, " do not punish her at all ; she did not in- tend ta do any thing naughty. You should rather en- deavour to encourage her in finding out things ; and only teach her to ask leave before she touches any thing that is not her own, or of which she does not understand the A DISTINCTION. 27 properties : an idle child is better than a lazy one." My sister looked as if she did not clearly understand the old lady's distinction, or perceive its reference to the present case, which the lady observing, continued, — " Perhaps you call the same things by different names here ; but we, in Hampshire, call a child lazy who is unwilling to do any thing — work, play, or think? Such a child we regard as almost a hopeless character ; but we call a child idle who is active enough both in body and mind, but active in its own way rather than in the straight-forward course prescribed for it. This child, in its activity, may do some mischief, which we call idleness ; but it is only necessary to regulate its activity, which may generally be done by reasoning, and other gentle methods, and we may hope that the subject of it may become a useful and a shining character." The Hampshire distinction fixed itself firmly in my mind, not merely as having saved me from impending punishment, on that particular occasion, but as inducing my sister to look with a rather more in- dulgent eye on those childish freaks which sometimes occasioned inconvenience, but of which she observed that there was " meaning in the mischief." The remark certainly was useful, as fixing in my mind a settled ab- horrence of laziness ; but I am almost afraid that it led to self-complacent thoughts, and often became an excuse to myself when I neglected the employment given me by my friends, to set about something of my own inven- tion, — " Well, I am not a lazy child, only idle, and there is hope that I may become a useful and shining charac- ter." As I grew up, I was continually perceiving the importance of one remark of the old lady's, which at first I was too much disposed to overlook — that activity of disposition requires regulation, to render the character useful as well as shining. You, my dear girls, I hope, 2b THE GIRL'S BOOK. will remember this ; and while you cannot too ardently abhor the character of laziness, which makes a human being like a swine, do not forget that ill-directed activity only resembles the mischief of a monkey, or a magpie. It belongs to well-directed and well-regulated activity alone, to effect works of real utility, and establish a cha- racter of real excellence. Who would not rather emu- late the bee or the beaver, than the monkey or the mag- pie 1 and yet we ought not to find fault with brute ani- mals, since they correctly follow their natural instincts, and the evident design of their formation. But as the habits of animals are often employed as emblems of cer- tain dispositions which in rational beings always assume a moral character, we may very properly take hints from them as to the cultivation of good and useful habits. At this time company came in, and the conversation between my young friends and myself was broken off. Perhaps the reader also will close the book for the pre- sent, and think a little of the circumstances of her infant days, of the mercy of God in bestowing on her kind pa- rents, and careful nurses, and pious instructers ; in pre- serving her through the perils of infancy, in raising her up from sickness, and in thus far leading her safely on towards maturity. If, as I hope, she is familiar with her Bible, it is possible that some such passages as these may present themselves to her mind. " Bless the Lord, O my soul! and all that is within me bless his holy name ! Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits !" " What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits ?" She will also probably look back to the infancy and childhood of the blessed Jesus ; and ex- amining her own heart and conduct, will inquire whether she, like Him, in early youth is " growing in wisdom and in stature, and in favour both with God and man." CHAPTER II. ONE THING AT A TIME. — WORKING PARTIES. — SOCIETY AND SOLITUDE. — AN ONLY CHILD. — MUSIC. — DELICATE HEALTH. OVER INDULGENCE. — SCHOOL REGULARITY. — WASTE. — PROFANITY. — GLUTTONY. — NICK-NAMES. — TRIFLING WITH THE WORDS OF SCRIPTURE. — A FOOLISH WISH. — DAVID DALE. — THE SCOTCH CLERGYMAN. — UNJUST SUSPICIONS. — THE BED OT TULIPS. — STRIPED GRASS. — THE BACHELOR'S PRESENT. THE UNIVERSAL SPELLING BOOK. — THE TWELVE WONDERS. SIS YEARS OLD. — DOLLS. — MEDDLING PUNISHED. During school vacations, I think it right that regular employments should not be wholly laid aside ; I there- fore accustom my little girls to refresh their memories in the various branches of literary pursuit in which they are engaged when at school, and each morning they sit an hour with me at needlework. On these occasions they have sometimes begged me to proceed with my story, assuring me that it would not at all interfere with their application; Emily, indeed, feeling quite certain that she should get on with her work as fast again. I 30 THE GIRL'S BOOK. had my doubts on this point ; and, as the result proved that the work that morning was sadly slighted, we agreed that in future the story should be confined to a few lei- sure minutes, either at dusk, or at the tea-table. My girls desire me to record their full concession, that one thing at a time is likely to be best attended to, and that however much they may have wished to enjoy an enter- taining story while engaged at needle -work, they have found that while their attention was diverted, either the work has gone on slowly, or the stitches have been care- less and uneven, or some mistake has occurred which rendered it necessary to pick out the whole, and do it again. These remarks do not altogether apply to the practice of one person reading aloud some interesting and instructive book, while several are engaged with their needles. I would beg, however, to suggest, that where this plan is adopted, there should be a fine for speaking, except it be to request an explanation of what is read. These fines might go towards the purchase of books, or of materials for working ; but the reader ought not to be disturbed, nor the attention of the company diverted, by a bustle about needles, cotton, or scissors, or by one young lady exhibiting to another the progress of her work, — especially by tittering across the table ; all which rudenesses are sometimes practised in a work- ing and reading party. The next time my girls had their young friends to see them, having amused themselves according to their va- rious tastes, as the day began to draw in, and they saw me seal a letter and close my desk, one of them came and whispered to me in the name of the rest, " Now, Mrs. White, would it be convenient to have us come and sit with you a little 1 and can you spare us a good WORKING PARTIES. 31 long evening?" They were soon seated round me, and Emily remarked, " Mamma, I have often thought of asking, who were your play-fellows when you were little ? M Mother. Perhaps few children have had fewer play- fellows than myself. Besides those who died, I had only two sisters, one of whom was grown up when I was born, and the other was at school ; so I was brought up almost like an only child. Two cousins, who lived near us, were my only companions ; we drank tea with each other alternately, once a week, or once a fortnight, I forget which. Agnes. And pray, mamma, which do you think best for children, — to be brought up alone, or to have plenty of companions? JVEother. I really can hardly answer your question : every situation has its peculiar advantages, and its pe- culiar temptations and trials. Among my advantages, I may reckon a habit of being contented alone ; and, ac- customed to rely on my own resources both for amuse- ment and improvement, I have never known what it is to feel dull for want of company ; and whatever inquiry has at any time presented itself to my mind, I have been used to think it out for myself, which is, on the whole, a very beneficial exercise, though, perhaps, a vast deal of time has been needlessly spent in hunting out a bit of knowledge which five minutes' reading would have put me in possession of, had a companion, more familiar than myself with books, been at hand, at once to refer me to it. Having no companions, I was free from the influence of bad example ; but then I was alike destitute of the stimulus of good example. I was under no temp- tation to quarrel ; but I had not the wholesome exercise 32 THE GIRL'S BOOK. of forbearance and forgiveness. Being always surround- ed with persons in every respect far my superiors, I had no notion of setting up claims of my own ; but then I was upon a disadvantage when I came among school companions, and endured rather more than my share of oppression. However, as I went to school young, it can hardly be said that I had all the advantages or dis- advantages of either mode. JMaria. Do not you think, Mrs. White, that it is a misfortune to be an only child 1 Mother. My dear girl, as all our circumstances are under the wise and kind appointment of our heavenly Father, they ought not to be called misfortunes. As I have before remarked, every situation has its peculiar trials, and certainly that of an only child has many. JWaria. I would give the world if I had brothers and sisters ; not, I am sure, but what my dear papa and rrjamma are as kind to me as possible, — but yet that is not like having a companion of one's own age. If I had a sister, perhaps she might be fond of music, and play well, which would please papa; he is so very anx- ious for me to be a proficient in music. He spares no time or expense, either in master, instruments, or books ; and yet I feel sure that I never shall excel in it. I take pains because I know papa wishes it, but I have no other pleasure in it ; therefore it is not likely that I shall ever be able to meet his wishes. Now is not that a trial, Mrs. White ? Now my own judgement and feelings said that it was a trial, and a very unnecessary one ; I regretted that the excellent father of Maria should carry his fondness for music so far as to make such heavy sacrifices of time, MUSIC. 33 money, and feeling, in an accomplishment which never will be attained by his child ; who, though a girl of good abilities and amiable disposition, and with a sincere desire to gratify the wishes of her parent, is destitute of a natural taste for that acquirement on which he lays so much stress. I wished that he might be induced to re- linquish the vain attempt, and direct his attention, and that of Maria, to some more attainable pursuit. How- ever, as I always make it a point not to utter a reflec- tion on the judgement and conduct of parents in the pre- sence of their children, I was rather glad that two others, each of whom is an only child, pressed forward to men- tion what they considered the great trial attendant on that circumstance. Harriet, a beautiful and highly ac- complished girl, whose education has been conducted at home under a first- rate governess, from a very early pe- riod, to the age of sixteen, could not at all understand any thing like difficulty in playing as much as might be gratifying to her friends ; " but," said she, " being an only child, my dear parents are so exceedingly anxious about my health, that I fear their own is frequently sacri- ficed to solicitude for me. Every change in the weather alarms them on my account ; and if I go from home for a few days, or even hours, they are quite distressed lest I should take cold, or lest some accident should befall me. I have often been ready to wish that this intense anxiety had been diverted into several channels, instead of being centred in one. They often say, if they should lose me, they lose their all." Mother. Well, my dear girl, I trust it is your con- stant solicitude, as far as possible, to requite their ten- derness, and to prove to them that they have not over- valued the one beloved object in which all their worldly 34 THE GIRL'S BOOK. treasure seems concentrated ; and, besides this very obvious lesson of dutiful return, the extreme anxiety of parents, on account of an only child, may serve as an example of the intense interest with which the immortal soul should be regarded. We have each but one soul ; and how awful will it be if that should be lost ! Surely we ought to take as much care for our soul's eternal welfare, as the most tender parent can take for the tem- poral safety and interests of a darling only child. My dear young friends, I hope not one of you will live in neglect of your soul; or that you will ever be satisfied till you have committed it to the care of the Lord Jesus, that gracious Friend of sinners. This sentiment cast a momentary solemnity over the young circle. Concerning some of them, I indulge the pleasing hope that they are seriously concerned to know what they must do to be saved ; and I observe, that any allusion to religious subjects always excites a look of most fixed attention, and grateful pleasure. They seem eager to catch and treasure up every remark on a sub- ject of which they have learned in some degree to esti- mate the importance. This is truly pleasing to friends concerned about their best interests. After a moment's pause, Ann resumed the conversa- tion. She, too, is an only child ; and observed that the extreme tenderness and indulgence to which she had been accustomed at home, made her feel the regularity and strict discipline of school to be hardships. At first, indeed, she thought she should be quite miserable, and had resolved on entreating her parents to remove her ; but having written a pitiful letter to that effect, she learned from one of her companions, that they were not allowed to send letters without the express permission of OVERINDULGENCE. 35 their governess. This, at the moment, was felt as an additional grievance ; but the uncomfortable feeling, in- duced by change, had gradually worn off; and now she must confess, she was much better in health, and more contented and cheerful, than amidst the unrestrained in- dulgence of home, and only regretted that she had not been sent to school much earlier. Still, however, she did long for the holidays, once more to see her own dear home ; and hoped she should not be unfitted for school duties on her return. Ann wished to know at what age I went first to school, and whether I was taught needle- work at school, or at home. Mother. My sisters taught me a little at home ; be- sides which, I sometimes went, by way of a treat, to spend a day at the school where my second sister had been brought up, and where I was afterwards placed. I was then but a plaything for the elder girls ; however, one and another taught me a little, and I was pleased in attempting to imitate what I saw, and looked forward with high delight to the period of attaining my sixth year, when, among other objects of hope and desire, I was to go to school as a regular scholar. Rose. I came to school when I was six years old. I am glad I was just the same age as you ; and pray, ma'am, at what age did you leave school ? Sophia. ! that is a long long time to come yet ; I hope Mrs. White will remember a great many things that happened while she was at school. Emily. And some that happened before she went to school, are there not, mamma 1 Mother. Not many that are worth mentioning. I remember forming very odd ideas of different persons who came to our house, and sometimes got into trouble 36 THE GIRL'S BOOK. for saying very odd things to them. I seldom remem- bered proper names, and used to describe persons by something I had seen or heard of them. I had been told never to waste any thing ; and that those who waste generally come to want. A lady was walking in our garden, and eating fruit. I observed that she threw down the gooseberry hulls, and I said to her, " Ma'am, I am afraid you will live to want a gooseberry hull." The lady kindly excused my childish simplicity, and told me that the hulls of gooseberries disagreed with people, therefore it was less waste to throw them away than to eat them, and make herself ill. I called her — " The lady who throws away gooseberry hulls." Two gentle- men came in unexpectedly to dinner with my parents. My parents were always kind and hospitable ; but I ob- served that these visiters were not received with so cor- dial a welcome as many others ; and I fancied there was something in their manners and habits as disagree- able to my parents as myself. The moment they en- tered the parlour, one of them seized me in his arms, and jumped me almost up to the ceiling, to my great terror and disgust ; at the same time exclaiming, " JVLon Dhu ! qu'une jille charmante /" I no sooner reached the ground in safety, than I made my escape from his rough grasp, and would scarcely be persuaded to venture in to dinner. Then, however, I had leisure to contemplate both him and his companion ; and observed that almost every sentence spoken by the former, was mixed with expressions which I had not been accustomed to hear ; and that the latter was characterised by a remarkably plump red face, and a corresponding capacity of sto- mach ; and that he spoke in such raptures of every thing of which he partook, as if he thought that all the happi- IRREVERENCE GLUTTONY. 37 ness of life consisted in eating and drinking. I did not hear any remarks made on these gentlemen at the time, but some months afterwards I heard my father inform my mother that he should bring home two gentlemen to dine with him. I said to him, " 0, papa, I hope it is not the rude gentleman who says wicked words in French, and the great gentleman with two chins, who eats so much." My papa took me on his knee, and said, " No, my dear ; I never invite those gentlemen to visit us. I do not like to talk about persons who have been at the house ; but if ever you think of them, you should pity them. It is a sad thing not to have been taught to fear God from one's youth. I fear Mr. L has no idea of praying to God ; and that in common conversation, he utters the sacred name without evei thinking about it. It is a sad thing, too, to be a glut- ton." " Papa, what is a glutton V 1 I inquired. He re- plied, " It is one who takes too much pleasure in eating and drinking. Such a person makes himself disgust- ing and contemptible in society ; and also commits sin against God, who bestows on us food to nourish us and fit us for our duty, but not that we should eat to excess, and make ourselves stupid and useless. Take care, my little girl, that you do not get too fond of cakes, fruit, and pastry, lest you should grow up as disagreeable as Mr. ." Not long after this, I heard that Mr. was dead, and that the doctor said, " If any man ever dug his grave with his teeth, he did." I wondered what this could mean ; and was informed that persons who accustom themselves to eat and drink more than is good for them, often bring themselves into diseases which doctors cannot cure, and so hurry themselves to the grave. " Now," said my father, " do not let us talk 38 THE GIRL'S BOOK. any more about poor Mr. ; but take care that you are never a glutton." I do not recollect that his name was ever again mentioned at our house ; but his bloated appearance, disgusting manners, and premature death, often presented themselves to my mind when the pastry-cook, who visited our school twice a week, stood at the door with her tempting basket. My father, one Sunday evening, read a sermon on the words, " And Pharaoh said unto Jacob, How old art thou 1 ?" I am afraid I did not attend much to the in- struction conveyed, or it would have set me thinking that I was old enough to be much better, and that I ought to be diligently improving my time ; but the words of the text seemed to jingle in my ears, and I addressed it to one and another whom I met with. There was a man in the habit of calling to sell pork. He stammered in his speech, and was commonly called " Old Hubble Bubble." One day when he called, a servant came in, and said, "Old Hubble Bubble is come, ma'am, to know if you will buy a pig." While my mamma was giving orders to the servant, one of my sisters said to the other, " We call him old, but I don't think he is very old." " No," replied my other sister, " I should not take him to be more than forty." I took the hint ; and, unperceived, slipping into the hall where the poor man was waiting, very foolishly addressed him by his nick- name, in the words of the text which had so fixed them- selves in my memory. As may be supposed, he was greatly offended, and began stammering and sputtering at a great rate. My father happened just then to come in, and inquired what was the matter. He apologized to the man, and soon put an end to the altercation ; but afterwards took me alone, and told me that it was very NICK- NAMES. 39 wrong to call persons out of their proper names ; espe- cially to miscal them on account of any personal defect or imperfection, which was trouble enough to bear, with- out exposing the person to mockery and ridicule. My father spoke in a similar manner both to my sisters and the servants ; and remarked how silly it was, even through mere thoughtlessness, to adopt a nick-name, which might, in so unexpected a manner, be carried home, and wound the feelings of the individual. He desired it might never be repeated in his house ; and told me that next time the pork-man came, I was to ask him what was his right name, and beg him to forgive me for the mistake I had made. He readily forgave me, and told me his name was John Stacey. As I had often seen nosegays in his basket, and we had fine flowers in great variety, I asked if the gardener might gather some for him ; permission was granted, and I had the pleasure of presenting him with several fine nosegays, which he thankfully accepted, saying that the money he got for his nosegays paid for putting his little boy and girl to school. Poor John Stacey! I often reproached my- self for having unintentionally hurt his feelings ; but he freely forgave me ; and every week when he called, used to stammer out, " I hope little Miss is well." My father too? the same opportunity of telling me that I ought not to take any phrase of Scripture that I heard or read, and apply it in common conversation. He very justly observed that most likely it was the temptation of applying the phrase which I happened to recollect, from the sermon, that led me so readily to go and speak to the poor man ; " and perhaps," added he, " Mr. L , whom you so much disliked, got a habit, when a child, of using the words of Scripture in a thoughtless irreve- 40 THE GIRL'S BOOK. rent way, and so went on, from step to step, till he became so awfully profane in his conversation." I hope my dear young friends will remember these hints ; and if ever they should be tempted to use the words of Scrip- ture in a light way, that they will consider, that though there might be wit in so doing, there is both wisdom and safety in letting it alone. One woman who came to our house, I distinguished as " the woman who loves money :" this originated in my having heard her say, when my mamma questioned whether a half-crown given in change were a good one, " Oh yes, ma'am, good enough ; I wish I had my back broken with them." This was only a silly saying of the woman : she had no such wish. What good would money do her if she got her death in acquiring it 1 But those whose hearts are set upon either money or plea- sure, often do things quite as foolish as this woman's wish : they break their hearts, or break their consciences, or break the peace and comfort of their family, and en- danger their precious souls for that which cannot profit them. " They that ivill be rich, fall into temptation, and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition." The two gentlemen who came to dine at xmr house, when I was afraid of seeing those whomTt disliked, proved to be of a very different stamp. One of them was the head of an extensive manufacturing and mer- cantile establishment in Scotland, and the other a pious clergyman, who had originally come from the same neighbourhood, but was then living near London. Their dialect rather puzzled me ; but though I could not un- derstand many of their words, I could make out that they were kind-hearted men, trying to do good to those around UNJUST SUSPICIONS. 41 them. David Dale (for that was the name of the for- mer) took me on his knee, and mentioning several emi- nent characters of Scripture, asked me what I knew about them. He told me of answers given by little boys and girls in his Sunday Schools. I think he had several hundreds under his care ; " and," said he, " I call them all my children. When I think they are good children, I am happy, but if any of them are naughty, they grieve me. I hope and believe that some of my little ones have gone to heaven before me, and there are others who I hope will follow me there, having first been useful on earth. And, my dear little girl," continued he, " I hope you may be spared to be a great comfort to your dear parents, and to follow the example of those holy women of whom you have been taught to read in Scripture. Which will you be, — Hannah, who, when she was in trouble, sought comfort in prayer? or JWartha, who loved to wait upon Christ? or Mary, who sat at his feet, and heard his words ? or Dorcas, who worked for the poor 1 or Priscilla, who was a kind friend to the minis- ters of Christ X God Almighty bless you, my child, and make you like them all." I often thought of the good old man's words, and spoke of him as the gentleman ivho loves little children. I saw him several times after- wards, for he was on terms of intimacy with my father, and frequently visited at our house. As I grew up, and became more capable of appreciating his character, I looked back upon it as one of the honours and privileges of my childhood that I had shared his affections and prayers. The Scotch clergyman also frequently came to our house, and was very kind to me. He once brought me a little book, containing Addison's Hymn on Gratitude, Dr. Watts's Paraphrase of the 104th Psalm, 4* 42 THE GIRL'S BOOE. Adam and Eve's Morning Hymn from Milton, and the Day of Judgement, from Young. He taught me to read and recite blank verse ; and when I had committed these pieces to memory, gave me a curious gold coin as a keepsake, which I kept many years, but at last it was stolen with some other valuable trinkets. Emily. 0, mamma, how much you must have grieved after that, especially if the good clergyman was dead ! Mother. Yes, Emily, he was dead ; and I certainly was grieved, both to lose a number of family things, on which I set a high value, but still more to think of the guilt of the person who took them. Agnes, Mamma, did you ever find out who took them'? Mother. I had very strong grounds of suspicion ; but we cannot be too careful of accusing any one, of whose guilt we have not the fullest evidence. This caution was impressed on me in early childhood, by the following circumstance : — The minister, on whom we attended, was hastily summoned to see his daughter, who was taken alarmingly ill, while on a visit. We hap- pened to be taking tea at their house when the summons arrived ; and my sisters immediately assisted in packing up the things for their journey. My eldest sister had a very handsome and expensive pair of scissors in a silver sheath, which that evening disappeared, and could no where be found : Mr. and Mrs. W. had a strong suspi- cion that their servant had taken them, and were, in consequence, quite uncomfortable in leaving her in the care of the house, during their absence. Soon after their return, she left them. Whether or not the suspi- cion had been mentioned, the poor girl found a great difficulty in getting a place, and at last was almost com- THEBEDOFTULIPS. 43 pelled to live at a public house, which proved a most unhappy situation for her in every respect. About three years afterwards her innocence was cleared in a singular manner. Mr. W. was liable to attacks of the gout; and when on the eve of that journey, fancied he felt symptoms of its approach. A large quantity of wool, which he was in the habit of using, was therefore packed up, but the threatened attack past away, and he had no return for three years. Then again the wool was brought forth ; and on its being opened, out dropped the long lost scissors ! But the poor girl had left that part of the country, and they never could find her to convey to her any satisfaction or recompense for the suspicion which had so unjustly fallen upon her. The families scarcely ever met afterwards without some allusion to the circumstance, and expressions of deep regret at what proved an irreparable injury to a poor girl. From my childhood I was exceedingly fond of a gar- den ; I was generally the first to find out a new flower in blossom, and was always* eager on my father's arrival to point it out to him. Once, during his absence from home, a splendid collection of tulips had flowered ; each day I had watched their progress with great delight, and anticipated with eagerness my father's return. When I rose on Saturday morning, I was much disappointed to find that the day was exceedingly wet and windy ; but about noon it cleared off; and by the time my father arrived, the gravel walks had become tolerably dry. He was scarcely out of the carriage before I seized his hand, and begged him to come with me, as I had some- thing very particular to show him. Kindly indulgent, he granted my request, and suffered me to lead him where I pleased. As we turned the corner, — " Now, 44 THE GIRL'S BOOK. papa, for the sight !" — but lo ! almost every tulip had been snapped off by the high wind, and lay scattered on the ground, the fragments of passing beauty. I stood for a minute in silent astonishment and disappointment, and then I believe I shed tears. My father took me up in his arms and kissed me, and said, " My child, may you never set your heart on any thing so frail as a bed of tulips !" I felt the disappointment keenly ; but it was some consolation to gather up the scattered petals, and spread them on white paper, and to hear my father ad- mit that he had never seen any larger, or more splendid. My own feeling is, that I have never since seen any half so fine ; but it is one of the common illusions of child- hood to invest things with an importance not their own. Did you ever notice the Indian or striped grass, which is cultivated in many gardens? and did you ever find two leaves exactly alike 1 My young friends could not recollect that they ever had found two alike, but had no doubt they might be found, and said they would take an opportunity of seeking. If* they find them, they will succeed better than myself and some young companions. A large party was assembled at the house of an old ba- chelor, a cousin of my father's. He had particularly desired that all the children should be brought, and had given directions to his housekeeper to prepare [every thing that he thought could gratify or amuse us. Whe- ther he perceived any lassitude among us children for want of a direct object, (for this is often the case even when surrounded with amusements,) or whether the seniors of the party wished to be free from the prattle or the ears of us young ones, the master of the house pro- posed to us to go in search of pairs of striped grass leaves, engaging to give us a half-crown each for as STRIPED GRASS. 45 many pairs as we could find striped exactly alike. There were seven or eight of us, and all readily joined in the search ; some were already guessing how many half- crowns they should gain, and how they should dispose of them ; some were comparing the leaves they gathered with those of their companions and others ; every now and then one would shout, " Now I have found two alike!" — but in an instant the voice fell, and added, " No, not exactly : how very tiresome !" but though often baffled, we tried again, and gave up the pursuit with some reluctance, when called to see the cows milked, and to partake of a syllabub. Our kind host sympathized in our disappointment; "but," said he, "the time of your search will not be wasted, if it shall lead you to remark the striking uniformity, and endless variety, which characterize the works of God. In the works of man there is often either sameness or incon- sistency; but the works of nature, or rather the scenes of nature, which are the works of God, are ever the same, yet always new. The meanest blade of grass is more worthy of admiration than the most brilliant achievement of human power and skill. Man could no more make a real blade of grass, than he could make a star or a sun, and hang it in the firmament. Does this remark remind, either of you of any thing you have been taught?' It happened that a part of one of Dr. Watts's Divine Songs had already presented itself to my mind, which I repeated : "Lord, how thy wonders are display'd "Where'er I turn my eye, If I survey the ground I tread, Or gaze upon the sky ! There's not a plant nor flower below, But makes thy glory known." 46 THE GIRL'S BOOK. " Well," said Mr. G., " I promised you half a crown if you found a pair of striped leaves. Now I will give you half a guinea for finding an excellent verse, and putting it in the right place ; and yet, no, I do not like to give children money for what they say or remember, lest it should make them mercenary ; I must put the half-guinea again in my purse, till I go to the booksel- ler's shop. But I have another remark to make about the striped grass. It may serve as an emblem of the uniformity and variety that at once exist among the good people. As you grow up in life, don't expect that every body you meet with will think, speak, or act, exactly as you do, and do not hastily condemn them when you find it otherwise. Though you have not found any two leaves of this grass exactly alike, yet all are so much alike, that you have no doubt of their being grass, and striped grass. All good people do not dress alike, nor speak alike, nor go to the same place of worship, but there are some things in which they are all alike : all repent of sin, all depend on Christ as their only Saviour, all live a life of prayer, all desire to obey God, and to do good to men, and all hope to go to heaven. These are the great matters to be concerned about." Ruth. My dear Eleanor, we must think of the striped grass, and hope to find true Christians among those who differ from us. Eleanor. Yes, it will be a great pleasure if we find it so where we have not expected it ; and yet we must not get into a way of thinking that people are Christians, however they may act, or we shall soon become indiffe- rent to our own conduct. O, Mrs. White, is it not a great trial to think of going where, perhaps, we shall not see or hear a word of any thing like religion ? THE BACHELOR'S PRESENT. 47 Mother. Yes, my dear, it is indeed a trial, and one in which you will need much of Divine grace to strength- en and preserve you. There is indeed a wide difference between worldly persons and true Christians, which must never be confounded ; and it should be matter of daily self-investigation to ascertain that we ourselves bear those great distinguishing marks. It should excite serious alarm, if at any time we find that in the society of gay and worldly people we are beginning to overlook or be indifferent to those distinctions. At the same time, your sister's remark is very correct. It is possible, that on meeting your friends after a long separation, you may have the pleasure, in some instances, of perceiving a degree of thoughtfulness, where formerly all was fri- volity and folly ; you may find that prayer is attended to where it used to be ridiculed, or at least neglected, and that the Sabbath is regarded where it used to be pro- faned ; and yet where these pleasing indications are found, there may be many things remaining which you wish otherwise, or which, though perhaps indifferent in themselves, are not according to your views and prac- tice. This will require the exercise of circumspection as to your own conduct, and of charity and candour to- wards your friends. Never act contrary to your con- science to please the best friend you have in the world, and at the same time think and hope the best of every one, who discovers any pleasing evidence of piety. Emily. Pray, mamma, did the old bachelor remem- ber his promise of sending you a book ? Mother. Yes, my dear ; a very few days afterwards I received " Evenings at Home," in six volumes, a book which afforded me much entertainment and instruction, and in which I often look with pleasure even now. 48 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Emily. And we have got the very books now, which you had before you were six years old ! Well, there is something very pleasant in that ; there are se- veral more of your books — " Leisure Hours," " Geo- graphy and History, by a Lady," " The Universal Spelling Book," and that little book about Charlotte and Henry, by Mrs. Trimmer ; — I do so prize them, and I should like to preserve them for our little nephews and nieces, and to tell them that they are the very books in which their grandmother used to read. JWother. Some of those books are well worth pre- serving, and are as likely to afford instruction and enter- tainment fifty years hence, as to young people of the pre- sent day; but in geographical and other school books, improvements are so continually making that even from an elder to a younger sister they become almost obsolete, and every teacher wishes to obtain the newest editions. The Universal Spelling Book, if I recollect right, is em- bellished with some of my earliest attempts at colour- ing. Having a box of cheap colours given me, I remem- ber laying them profusely on the schoolmaster and his pupils of the frontispiece, and on the subjects of a few fables or tales towards the end of the book. My awk- ward attempts were exhibited to my young friends, who did not spare to make themselves merry at my expense, though most of them owned that they had themselves beautified books in a similar way. I remember being puzzled with some popular sayings at the end of that book, which from inattention to the pointing, in several instances may be read two together, as if they were one, in which case it would puzzle any body to make sense of it ; thus, " Lazy folks take the most pains, give a man his bread and cheese when he has earned it." Thinking SIX YEARS OLD. 49 that there must be a connexion, I could only suppose the meaning to be this : " When a man has earned bread and cheese, he must have it ; and if the person who owes it him is too lazy to get up and give it him at once, he not only exposes the man to inconvenience, but himself to the trouble of being asked for it again and again. Per- haps a worse rendering might have been made. How- ever, it affords an opportunity of saying to all learners — Be sure you get a habit of minding your stops, both in reading and writing. For want of attention to this par- ticular, you may read without at all understanding the author's meaning, and in writing you may convey a very different, perhaps an opposite sense to what you in- tended. As an example of this, the following lines were given, called " The Twelve Wonders :" wonderful indeed, if you stop at the end of each line ! but simple enough if the stop be placed in the middle of each line, and the closing half of one line carried on to the beginning of the next. I saw a peacock with a fiery tail I saw a comet drop down hail I saw the sky bedeck'd with ivy round I saw a sturdy oak crawl on the ground I saw a pismire swallow up a whale I saw the sea brim full of ale I saw a Venice glass full fifty feet deep I saw a well full of men's tears that weep I saw their eyes all in a flame of fire I saw a house high as the moon and higher I saw the sun all in the midst of night I saw the man that saw this wondrous sight. In the course of conversation, Agnes remarked that she thought all children seemed to look forward to six SO THE GIRL'S BOOK. years old, as a very important period. Her brother, she recollected, was talking of it for months beforehand, and was particularly desirous of changing his dress on that day. She could go still farther back, and recollect feel- ing very much ashamed of being carried across the street one rainy day, which she thought seemed so babyish, being now six years old. I often wish that children were as desirous of grow- ing in wisdom as in age and stature, and of laying aside what is foolish and sinful, as they are to cast aside what they consider babyish dress, and babyish habits. Six years old is indeed a very important period, as the transi- tion from infancy to childhood. About that period the minds of most children expand very rapidly, and the mo- ral features become strongly marked. Children of that age, who have been properly instructed, more clearly and habitually learn to feel what is right and wrong in the sight of God, and when they transgress may be said to sin against conscience. A dear friend of mine, who had lost several children by death, anxiously asked a minister whether a child of six years old was accountable for its actions. The mi- nister replied, " You, my dear friend, are responsible for taking the earliest opportunity to impress on the minds of your children a sense of their duty to God ; and you, my children, who can understand what your dear mother endeavours to teach you, and to know whether you obey or disobey her, are old enough to give an account of your actions to God, and to pray to him every day that the sins which you know you have committed, may be forgiven for the sake of his dear Son Jesus Christ." My dear girls, I often tremble when I think of your respon- sibility and my own. Do you ever think of it 1 You are more than six years old. DOLLS. 51 Agnes. " Yes, mamma, I am more than nine." " And I shall be eleven next birth-day !" " And I thirteen !" " And I eight !" at the same moment ex- claimed the whole company, the ages varying from six to sixteen. Ah ! thought I, will they all live to see next birth-day 1 oh, that they may now be taught so to num- ber their days as to apply their hearts unto wisdom ! Jane. Pray, Mrs. White, at what age do you think girls ought to leave off playing with dolls] A cousin of ours, who is younger than Maria, quite laughs at us for carrying about dolls ; she says she has cast off hers long ago ; and though we are really fond of our dolls, she has made us almost ashamed of them. Mother. Indeed, my dear, I am of a very different opinion ; and I question if your young relation has aban- doned her dolls for amusements more innocent, interest- ing, and instructive. This idea was instilled into me by the good old lady from Hampshire, who stood my friend in the affair of the inky paste-cutter. I had several dolls of inferior value ; but about two months before my sixth birthday, she brought a handsome wax doll, with materials of every kind for clothing, which she requested my sisters to make up, saying she intended it as a birth- day present for me, as I was now coming to an age to understand and enjoy it. I assure you this gave me a very respectable idea of doll-playing. The care of its wardrobe was an exercise of neatness and ingenuity ; and though I several times got blamed for altering the clothes from their original making up, or for cutting a larger garment to fit a smaller doll, even my misguided labours were improving to myself. The inconvenience resulting from rashness served to teach me better ma- nagement in future, and I am not ashamed to say that I 52 THE GIRL'S BOOK. continued to care for my dolls, with maternal tenderness and contrivance, till my attention was directed to a little nephew. I was then about eleven years old ; and I do think my dolls had fitted me to be much more useful in the family of my sister, both in nursing and needlework, than a girl of my age could have been who had been brought up in contempt of a doll. My dolls and cradles were then carefully laid by, and a few years afterwards inherited by my nieces. I have given you the Hampshire lady's sentiments about punishment, by which you will have perceived that she was economical in that particular, and wished to make a little go a great way, by using it as seldom as possible, and making as little as possible serve the pur- pose. We had a visiter of a different opinion ; one who seemed to think it quite a pity to pass by an opportunity of inflicting punishment. A few months before I went to school, my parents moved back to the village (not the house) where I was born. One of the first things in the new house that caught my attention was a very large alarm bell, which I was told was intended to be rung in case of fire or thieves. Now, though I certainly had no wish to be alarmed by either fire or thieves, I had a longing desire to hear the sound of this bell, and scarcely ever went up stairs without a strong inclination to give it a pull. One ironing-day, when my sisters and the maids were busy in the laundry, they employed me to carry up a few light things on a waiter. As I passed the alarm bell, the temptatiou seemed too strong to be re- sisted; "just to give it one pull, to make it tingle only once : as all of the family, who are at home, are busy at the bottom of the house, it will not alarm them, and per- sons out of the house will not hear one stroke." After MEDDLING PUNISHED. 53 hesitating a minute, I ventured to pull the rope, but in- stead of the one tingle that I intended, down came a fourteen pound weight on rny poor little giddy skull. The bell, it appeared, had not been examined for a long time, and the iron which sustained this weight had be- come quite rusty, so that on being pulled, it snapped, and gave way. It is a great mercy that I was not killed on the spot. However, I received a large cut very near the temple, and was some time confined to bed with the fever it occasioned. The lady above alluded to, called to see me ; my mother related the circumstances of the accident. — " We heard a scream, and a fall, and all ran up stairs together ; and at the top of the stairs lay the dear little creature quite senseless, the blood stream- ing from the wound. Of course we instantly sent for a surgeon, and got her to bed." " Of course," replied the benevolent visiter, " it is to be hoped you first gave her a sound whipping for meddling ; if not, you ought to take her up, and whip her now." My dear and tender pa- rents had, I doubt not, entirely overlooked my fault in its punishment, for not a word of reproach had escaped their lips ; but my own conscience had not failed to re- proach me, and tell me that all the blame was my own, not only of the pain and inconvenience I myself suffered, but of the alarm and trouble occasioned to those most dear to me ; and this conviction was a much more real and effectual punishment than a sound whipping. I have often thought of my own adventure when reading, or hearing my children repeat Miss Taylor's little poem called " Meddlesome Matty," the little girl who meddled with her grandmamma's snuff-box and spectacles ; in doing which she almost choked herself with snuff, and broke the spectacles to pieces. I dare say you remem- ber it. 5* 54 THE GIRL'S BOOK. MEDDLESOME MATTY. " O how one ugly trick has spoil'd The sweetest and the best ! Matilda, though a pleasant child, One ugly trick possess'd, Which, like a cloud before the skies, Hid all her better qualities. " Sometimes she'd lift the tea-pot lid To peep at what was in it ; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute. In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much. " Her grandmamma went out one day, And, by mistake, she laid Her spectacles and snuff-box gay Too near the little maid. ' Ah, well ! ' thought she, « I'll try them on As soon as grandmamma is gone.' " Forthwith she plac'd upon her nose The glasses large and wide ; And looking round, as I suppose, The snuff-box, too, she spied. ' O, what a pretty box is this ! I'll open it,' said little Miss. " 'I know that grandmamma would say, ' Don't meddle with it, dear,' But then, she's far enough away, And no one else is near. Besides, what can there be amiss In opening such a box as this ? ' - "So thumb and finger went to work To move the stubborn lid, And presently a mighty jerk The mighty mischief did. For all at once, ah, woful case ! The snuff came puffing in her face. MEDDLESOME MATTY. " Poor eyes and nose, and mouth and chin, A dismal sight presented ; And as the snuff got farther in, Sincerely she repented. In vain she ran about for ease, She could do nothing else but sneeze, " She dash'd the spectacles away To wipe her tingling eyes ; And as in twenty bits they lay, Her grandmamma she spies. 1 Heyday ! and what's the matter now ? ' Cries grandmamma, with lifted brow. "Matilda, smarting with the pain, And tingling still and sore, Made many a promise to refrain From meddling any more. And 'tis a fact as I have heard, She ever since has kept her word." 55 CHAPTER III, SAMPLERS AND COPY-BOOKS. — OUR WORKS OUTLIVE US. — SENTIMENTS ANI> WISHES ABOUT LIFE AND DEATH. — GOING TO SCHOOL. My young friends were sitting with me, very busily engaged in marking a set of neck-cloths ; as some dis- cussion arose about the number of stitches in a figure, my old samplers were brought forth as an authority. The controverted point being settled, some of the young- er ones amused themselves with reading the contents. On one of these samplers, after several alphabets large and small, is worked the first verse of the twelfth chap- ter of Ecclesiastes, " Remember 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." Also the following lines, written by a worthy minister, for a young lady's sampler. I knew the good man from my childhood ; and though the lines were not SAMPLERS AND COPY-BOOKS. 57 written for me, I felt additional pleasure in having work- ed them when I found they were written by him. " Jesus, permit thy gracious name to stand As the first effort of an infant hand ; And while her fingers o'er the canvass move, Engage her tender thoughts to seek thy love ; With thy dear children let her share a part, And write thy name, thyself, upon her heart." The other sampler has the following lines, which also may be thought worth preserving. " How pleasantly the morning springs, While beauty glitters on its wings Adorning all the east ! The tuneful lark mounts up on high, And, drawing nearer to the sky, Her music is increas'd. " Now in the morning of my days, Let me acquire deserved praise, And well improve my mind : Soon will these happy hours be gone, And loaded years with pain come on, Unlike to those behind." Ann asked me whether my years had been loaded with pain and sorrow. I could not but feel that they have rather been loaded with benefits, though by no means unmingled with pain and sorrow. But the most favoured as well as the most afflicted lot in mature years, is such as to confirm the sentiment, that youth is the best season of preparation for future years, and espe- cially for the cultivation of piety. Rose observed that, in my sampler, the letters (as she expressed it) were " all higgledy piggledy, instead of 58 THE GIRL'S BOOK. being put in a regular alphabet," and wished to have the reason explained. Perhaps some of my young friends may choose to adopt the hint : I shall therefore set it down. It is usual, in order to teach the proper manner of placing the letters on table linen, &c. after the large and small alphabets, to mark one, thus, a.b. d. e.» and so on ; but my dear father suggested that the end might be attained equally well, and the sampler prove an interest- ing memorial of family connexions and friends, by giving the initials of relations and friends in pairs. The first pair, therefore, were my father and mother ; the second, my two sisters ; afterwards, my uncles and aunts ; the minister on whom we attended, and his wife ; my go- verness and her brother, and several other friends and acquaintance. In answering the questions of my chil- dren, " And who does j \ stand for 1 " " And who does s^i. stand for 1 " " And who does $%. stand for 1 " " Are they living ? " I was struck to observe that of thirty-six individuals there named, five only remain, and thirty-one have gone to the home appointed for all living. A few more years, and the fingers that traced those letters, and that guide this pen, will lie mouldering in the dust, and there, too, must lie — even there, my youthful reader. May the immortal spirit of each have then returned to God who gave it, and found admission to his blissful presence through the merits of his beloved Son ! Samplers led to a request that I would produce a very old store, now sadly disfigured by the insidious ravages of the tiny moth ; the sampler of my grandmother, to- gether with two of her copy-books. My young friends were not a little amused with these relics of more than a century, the spelling of which varies greatly from that OUR WORKS OUTLIVE US. 59 of the present day — indeed, seems to have been adopted just as it happened, without regard to any fixed rules. Perhaps the young reader may not be displeased with the insertion of a few homely verses of that date, as the sentiments are good, though the poetry is not first-rate. Please to add, as fancy may dictate, a due proportion of red brick houses, sugar-loaf trees, lambs, parrots, rab- bits, canary birds, baskets, and snails, all of one size, with which the sampler is embellished ; and surround each of the copies with flourishes, pens, dolphins, and swans. EXCELLENCE. "Might we attain to excellence sublime, Without a careful management of time, Thousands would then to excellence attain That are unworthy of one drachm or grain j But excellence is seated on a throne Above the reach of every dunce and drone." " If nature gives perfection and rare beauty, To match them with good manners is your duty : If you proportion want, and are not fair, Let grace and manners these defects repair." FORECAST. " When any work or business you intend, Before you undertake it, cast the end : He that doth build, learn, fight, or run a race, And doth not finish, sits down with disgrace." WORTH OF THE SOUL. " Give a true estimation of the worth Of all that under heaven the earth brings forth, 60 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Then think what you shall gain to buy the whole At the dear price of your immortal soul ! O wonder ! this vast world, and all therein, Cannot all balance with one wilful sin." TO-MORROW. " You'll mend your life ' to-morrow,' still you cry ; In what far country does this morrow lie ? It stays so long, 'tis fetch't so far, I fear 'Twill be both very old, and very dear." ON THE ART OF WRITING. " Tell me what genius did the art invent The lively image of a voice to paint? Who first the secret how to colour sound, And to give shape to reason wisely found ? With bodies how to clothe ideas taught, And how to draw the picture of a thought ? Who taught the hand to speak, the eye to hear A silent language floating far and near, Whose softest notes outstrip loud thunder's sound, And spread their accents through the world's vast round. Yet with kind secrecy securely roll Whispers of absent friends from pole to pole, A speech heard by the deaf, spoke by the dumb, Whose echo reaches long, long time to come, Which dead men speak, as well as those that live ; — Tell me, what genius did this art contrive ? " " mamma," said Emily, " when ' Elizabeth Russell wrote this, December the 15th, 1721,' little, little did she think that her great-grandchildren would read it upwards of a hundred years afterwards ! when she, no doubt, has been many years dead. Mamma, do you remember her?" " No, my dear, she died more than thirty years before I was born. I have seen several of her letters, addressed SENTIMENTS AND WISHES ABOUT FUTURITY. 61 to her only son when at school. They discover great anxiety for his best interests, and contain much sound and wholesome advice as to his conduct. I have also seen several of my dear father's replies, full of respect- ful and affectionate tenderness : the whole intercourse was evidently that of a wise mother, and a dutiful son. The fond anticipations of a happy meeting expressed in the last of these letters were not, however, realized. Having completed his education, my father was hasten- ing home, after three years' absence, when he was met by the distressing news of the death of this excellent parent." Emily. 0, dear mamma, how very affecting! I wonder that he ever recovered the shock ! Mother. I have no doubt that he felt it very deeply. Instead, however, of giving way to unavailing grief, he more substantially evidenced the affectionate reverence in which he held his mother's memory, by tender as- siduity in promoting the comfort of his remaining parent, and by conscientiously practising the good instructions he had received. Agnes. What a comfort it must have been to him, when he lost his mother, to think that he had been a du- tiful and affectionate son to her ! If he had been diso- bedient while at home, or had not attended to the advice she gave him while at school, and then lost her as he did, it would have made him miserable for life. Do not you think it would, mamma ? Mother. There is nothing more consolatory under the loss of any beloved relative, than the consciousness of having endeavoured faithfully to discharge your duty to them while they lived. But where have grandmamma's copy-books and sampler carried us to 1 Not, I hope, far out of the way of instruction, if they have led to seri- 6 62 THE GIRL'S BOOK. ous reflection. Not only have the busy fingers that traced these lines long mouldered in the dust, but, in all probability, scarcely an individual of the human race who was then in existence survives to the present day ; and long, very long before a like period revolves, each of us will have passed into silence ! It is possible, however, that something we have done may long survive us. How constantly solicitous should we be, first, to prepare for that eternity on which we must soon enter, and next, ne- ver to do any thing which may be injurious to others, and disgraceful to our own memory, when we have passed the boundary of time. Emily. I wonder whether any thing I do will be pre- served a hundred years after I am dead 1 •Mother, Most likely it will, even though your very name should be forgotten. The influence of conduct and example extends more widely and permanently than we are apt to imagine. One good or evil action, which we perhaps forget, may prove an example to some one who observes it, — may influence the conduct of that in- dividual through life, and be extended to connexions and descendants in long succession. I can give you two in- stances of this, the one painful, and the other pleasing ; — A gentleman's servant, who had been soberly brought up, and was reckoned a steady well-disposed lad, once heard a visiter at his master's table ridicule the Bible- One sinful and foolish expression unsettled the poor fel- low's mind, and weakened his reverence for the sacred book, and left him a prey to the first temptation to diso- bey its dictates. He became a vicious and profligate character, and corrupted many by his conversation and example. The effects of that one expression will long outlive the profane lips that uttered it, and it may be ANCIENT DRESS. 63 feared, will not have passed away through eternity. The other instance, to which I referred, was that of a little girl, who happened to sleep one night in the house of a pious family, who of course met for worship morning and evening. This observance was perfectly new to the little girl ; she was struck with the reasonableness and pro- priety of it. On her return home, she mentioned it to her parents, and entreated that they would establish the practice. Her request was so far complied with, that an excellent volume of family prayers was procured, and a prayer read every Sunday evening ; by degrees, it was extended to the Sabbath morning, with the addition of a chapter in the Bible ; then to every evening in the week, and at last to every morning also. Some years of im- portunity were employed in effecting the desired object, but it was never afterwards abandoned ; and as each of the young people of that family formed themselves into separate families, the practice was adopted by them with all its attendant benefits, and their children have risen into life, without an idea that a family tould live from day to day in the omission of family prayer. The worthy family, with whom the little girl first noticed the holy ha- bit, are long since dead and gone — perhaps little aware of the impression that had been made ; but who can say how widely and permanently its effects may even now be spreading ? Emily inquired whether I had preserved any samplers or copy-books of my own parents. I re- gretted to say that none had ever come into my hands ; but I produced a register of texts kept by my dear father from his childhood to the time of his death ; on this I look with interest and pleasure, to trace the labours of holy and eminent men, and to observe that one so dear to me was a regular and attentive hearer of such valuable 64 THE GIRL'S BOOK. instructions. My mother was educated at home, with the exception of taking lessons in French and embroid- ery, of an old French lady. All that remains of her youthful application is a satin waistcoat, and a gauze handkerchief, richly embroidered, and a coverlet, partly embroidered, and partly stitched. They are exceedingly beautiful of their kind ; the colours of the silks as vivid as if recently done : and all received a due portion of ad- miration. Agnes wondered how they managed to make both sides look exactly alike, and how any little girl ever could have patience to set so many stitches ; and above all, how any gentleman could wear a waistcoat which was so massy with gold and silver ; and amused herself with thinking what a very odd figure her great- grandfather must have appeared with this splendid waist- coat and other articles of dress to correspond — a sword, a bag wig, a three-cornered hat, and a gold-headed cane. Her pensive sister was desirous of ascertaining the exact date of these articles of workmanship 1 and how it was that the waistcoat was in such good preservation 1 whe- ther the owner died before it was worn out ? To these questions I could not reply, but supposed it might be seventy years, or upwards. " Well, mamma," continu- ed Emily, with a sigh, "I scarcely know whether it is most pleasing, or most melancholy, — the idea of our works so long outliving ourselves. I delight in possess- ing any thing that was yours when a child, but I do not feel exactly the same towards these old relics of persons whom I have never known." Mother. My dear child, the difference of feeling arises chiefly from the circumstance that your mother is yet living. When you look at the productions of one who is dead, a train of thought is awakened, to which GOING TO SCHOOL, 65 the mind is naturally averse — * They are dead ; and I, too, must die.' I have read in history of a king, who so dreaded and detested the thoughts of death, that it was esteemed an act of treason for any of his attendants to make the slightest and most distant allusion to it in his presence. The feeling is not uncommon, though very unwise. Why should we avoid thinking of that which we cannot actually avoid, when by accustoming ourselves to think of it, we may be led to such preparation as will enable us both to think of it, and to meet it without dis- may 1 I have often been interested and delighted by an anecdote of the amiable Princess Charlotte of Wales, of whom it is stated, that, when waited on by an aged min- ister, who solicited her aid to some benevolent institu- tion, she improved the opportunity, by asking with much seriousness, " What is necessary to make a death- bed easy ?" It is a proof of sound and heavenly wisdom when this important question is seriously asked by one in the bloom of health, youth, possession, and enjoy- ment ; and Oh, what a mercy if it was, in this instance, satisfactorily and savingly answered ! Had it been de- ferred till the period of youth was past, it would have been too late, for the amiable princess did not reach her twenty-second year. Agnes. To what age did your mother live, mamma ? I do not remember her. Mother. She was sixty-seven when she died. It was before either of you girls was born. She was much pleased with your eldest brother ; but he was too young to recollect her. Emily. Mamma, I'll tell you what is my wish, my very particular wish — that you may live to be very old indeed. Should you not like that 1 6* 6G THE GIRL'S BOOK. Mother. I should be very wrong, my dear, were I to indulge a wish about distant futurity. May I but be en- abled from day to day conscientiously to discharge the duties assigned me, and live dependent upon Christ, and in calm preparation for my last day, whenever it shall please God to make it dawn upon me ! Emily. Well, mamma, that certainly is right, and best ; and yet I can never bear to think of being left in this world without you and dear papa. But now, will you tell us about going to school? you promised you would do so. Were you a boarder? and how did you feel at first leaving home ? Mother. I anticipated it with great pleasure and ea- gerness, and got all my little treasures packed up at least a month beforehand ; though I must confess they were afterwards several times unpacked to see that all was safe, to remove one article as a present to a friend, or to add another that had been presented to me. It was with high glee that I saw the carriage draw up to the door that was to convey me to school. My parents and sisters accompanied me ; so at home I had only to take leave of the servants. " Good bye, Miss." " We shall be glad to see you back again." " Christmas will soon come." These were the parting salutations of the maids. An old washerwoman seeing me inclined to go off in good spirits, observed, "Ah, poor thing! all her troubles are to come ;" and the poor old French gardener wrung his hands, and sobbed out, " Dear Miss ! dear Miss ! very sorry to lose ! please God bring home again !" I ob- served at the moment that my dear father brushed a tear from the corner of his eye, and hurried my mother into the carriage, as if to prevent her hearing the old man's exclamation. Then it came into my mind — " Perhaps ARRIVAL AT SCHOOL. 67 old Monet remembers the time when my brother was taken to school, and was only brought home to die ;" such, I doubt not, was his feeling, and that my father re- ciprocated in it. The thought somewhat chastened my feelings of exultation, and made me rather pensive dur- ing the journey. My governess, a truly amiable woman, received me with much kindness and affection, introduced me to my school-fellows, and desired me to inform them that a half- holiday would be granted the next day in honour of a new scholar. This news was received with much greater glee than it was imparted, for I felt shy among so many strange faces, and thought that I should prefer sitting quietly to work and reading, far before being obliged to converse and play with strangers ; especially as I soon found, that though a few of the eldest girls, who remem- bered my sister at school, would make a plaything of me, when I had been there as an occasional visiter, now I was come as a regular scholar they took no notice of me, but left me entirely to younger girls, among whom I was quite a stranger. I could not take courage to min- gle in their sports, felt almost frightened when any one spoke to me, and longed to be called into the parlour. The summons in due time arrived : I took tea with my governess and my parents ; and then, for the first time in my life, was separated from my family, and found myself left alone at school. Emily. 0, poor child ! did you not feel very desolate ? Mother. Not so much so as is commonly the case with a new scholar. My kind governess permitted me to spend the remainder of the evening with her, amusing myself with the furniture and decorations of the parlour, which consisted principally of specimens of worsted 63 THE GIRL'S BOOK. work, filigree, embroidery, and other fancy work per- formed in the school. I was delighted with the hope of learning to do all these things, and anticipated the plea- sure of taking home, at the holidays, presents for all my friends, and ornaments for the drawing-room. I believe my plans and purposes for one half year would have en- grossed two or three years to fulfil ; but my governess good-humouredly reminded me, that it would not do to give all my time to these pursuits ; a little, she said, would be wanted for plain needle- work, reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, and other things of lasting utility. I have not forgotten the illustration by which she impress- ed her sentiments on my mind. Taking a little box from her pocket, (she professed to keep it on account of her cough, but I do think more than half the contents were given to the little girls,) she asked me if I liked sugar candy 1 I thanked her and took a little bit. She then asked me if I should like every day to dine on sugar can- dy? I thought it a very odd question, as it seemed to me, that meat and bread, pudding and vegetables, were much more suitable. "Yes," replied the good lady, "I think so too ; but when too much time is devoted to fancy work, and mere outside accomplishments, it is like dining on sugar candy — sure to cloy the appetite and injure the health. My rule is, to make these fancy pur- suits a mere recreation, and a reward for attention, dili- gence, and perseverance, in more important studies." The cheerfulness, affability, and condescension of my governess, soon won my confidence and veneration ; and her praises of my sisters, who had been her former pupils, stimulated and encouraged me to resolve that I, too, would endeavour to deserve her approbation. And so the hour passed very cheerfully and pleasantly, till the iRRIVAL AT SCHOOL. 69 bell rang for family prayers : then again I had to encoun- ter meeting the whole school; but the uncomfortable feeling soon wore off; the beautiful Scripture narrative that was read fastened my attention, and made me for- get all surrounding circumstances. Prayer, too, had a soothing influence on the mind ; and I retired to rest very contentedly, though not without missing my father's fond kiss, and my mother's " Nightly visit to ray chamber paid, That she might know me warm and safely laid ;" and many other little circumstances connected with home, that are not to be met with elsewhere, and, perhaps, are little thought of until they are missed. Every thing seemed strange to me at first ; but in a very few days the novelty of the scene had passed away, and left me com- pletely settled down to the diet, rules, habits, companions, and employments of the place. SCHOOL ANECDOTES. — MY GOVERNESS. — DR. WATTS.— SCHOOL PLAYS. — SKIPPING. — EXERCISE. — BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES. —THE DOLPHIN. — THE LION. — GOOSE AND SWAN. — DOG. — MY LADY'S TOILET. — INVENTION. My young friends desired an exact description of my governess. I have the most distinct recollection of her figure, dress, and manners ; but I feared that I should not be able to convey the impression from my mind to theirs. I thought the end would be quite as well, or better answered, if I could recollect and impart any of her good instructions ; but Emily assured me she should pay much more attention to the instruction if she could fancy the figure of the good lady communicating it. I told my young friends to imagine a lady of upwards of fifty years of age, of rather diminutive size, her fingers thin, the veins on the back of her hands and wrists clear- ly discernible through a clear and delicate complexion ; a light hazel eye, expressing at once intelligence, cheer- MY GOVERNESS — DR. WATTS. 71 fulness, and gentleness ; a soft and gentle voice, little used to say, " I insist upon it," yet carrying at once so much firmness and persuasion, that it must be a perverse and hardened child who could rebel, or disobey. For dress, you must bestow on her tiny feet black stuff shoes, and silver buckles ; her gown must be a neat lilac print, or striped Manchester muslin, the sleeves just covering the elbows, and edged with a cambric robin,* nicely crimped ; a clear muslin handkerchief, with a border of needlework, pinned down behind, and a white cloth apron ; her silver grey hair turned back over her fore- head ; and a double-bordered cap, with a very exact bow pinned just in front. Such was my governess. Those who knew her could not help loving her ; and those who did not know her, can hardly think how kind and good she was. Her health was delicate, but she bore her suf- ferings with such meekness and patience, and received so kindly any little attention paid her, as both endeared her to all around, and also tended to impress on their minds a sense of the excellency of the principles that sustained her. I used to fancy that I was a favourite with my governess, but perhaps that was only my vanity ; for, on conversing with my fellow-pupils since coming to years of maturity, I find that every one of them has the same impression. One thing, however, I am sure : not one, at the present day, can produce more little old-fa- shioned trinkets given by her as keepsakes, nor was one more frequently advanced to the post of honour to fetch the pillow, and make camomile tea for her, when she was unwell ; to tie up the bow for her cap, and to crimp her * A sort of diminutive ruffle at the elbow, worn by elderly ladies thirty years ago. 72 THE GIRL'S BOOK. clean robins on a Saturday afternoon, or to wind skeins of embroidery silk, and tack on patterns for muslin works. All these little matters were generally attended to out of school hours ; and being, even in childhood, rather too fond of quietness, I was glad of an excuse to leave the noisy plays of my school-fellows, and get into the service and society of my governess. On these occasions she sometimes allowed me to accompany her to an arbour in her garden, which was considered no small treat, as the gate which opened to it from our play-ground was a bound- ary which the pupils were never permitted to pass, with- out special leave. 0, with what delight have I listened to her anecdotes of many eminent persons of by-gone days ! Mason, the author of a Treatise on Self- Know- ledge — have all my young friends read it? — was the friend and pastor of her youth. The great and good Dr. Watts was the intimate friend of her parents, and she fancied she had a recollection of hearing of his death. Whether this recollection was real or traditionary, many of his dying sayings were deeply impressed on her me- mory ; and, as she often said, came over her mind with a holy sweetness in seasons of suffering and weakness. I will mention two or three, though I believe they are pretty generally known ; the sentiments are such as can- not be too deeply riveted on the youthful mind. When some one reminded him of his great usefulness in the church of God, he replied, " Say nothing, say nothing — I am an unprofitable servant ; the glory belongs to God for using such an instrument." Another was, " I have only the simple promises of the gospel to rest on, and I bless God they are simple promises, which do not re- quire such labour or pains to understand them ; for I can now do nothing but look into my Bible for some promise DR. WATTS. 73 to support me, and live upon that." Again : " I believe the promises of the gospel enough to venture an eternity on them ;" and, on taking leave of his friends for the night — " Good night; I bless God that I can lie down and compose myself to sleep, not solicitous whether I awake in this world or another." When my dear gov- erness related to me these and similar anecdotes, she would direct me to a verse or two of the good doctor's hymns expressive of similar sentiments : such as — " A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On thy kind arms I fall ; Be thou my strength and righteousness, My Jesus, and my all." " Jesus, my God, I know his name, His name is all my trust ; Nor will he put my soul to shame, Nor let my hopes be lost. "Firm as his throne his promise stands ; And he can well secure What I've committed to his hands, Till the decisive hour. " Then will he own my worthless name Before his Father's face ; And in the new Jerusalem Appoint my soul a place." My governess had a sweet voice, though sometimes rendered tremulous by affliction. Often has she sung with me the verses she thus pointed out, and by this means many a precious sentiment has been lodged in my memory, to which my attention might not otherwise have been directed, but which has proved a sweet solace in the hour of affliction. May her example stimulate 7 74 THE GIRL'S BOOK. myself and others to heed the sacred injunction-^ "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand ; for thou knowest not which shall pros- per, whether this or that, or whether they shall both be alike good." Before I pass from this subject, I must mention the care my kind instructress took to impress on my mind, what I too would labour to impress on the minds of my dear young friends, the connexion between a tranquil and happy death, and a life of humble reliance and holy consecration. " See," she would say, when she referred me to the hymn I last quoted, " Dr. Watts did not wait till he came to die before he committed his soul to the Lord Jesus Christ ; no more did the apostle Paul. Those who put off this great concern to the last, often leave it altogether neglected ; or if they are roused to consideration, they know very little about the Lord Jesus, and perhaps doubt whether he will receive, and take care of them : but those holy men could say, * I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.'" Nearly all that I have mentioned, is recorded in the Life of Dr. Watts ; and there I have read it again and again with pleasure, greatly heightened by the recollection of having heard the anecdotes from the lips of my governess, as she received them from her near relative, his amanuensis, who attended his dying moments, and wrote an account of the circumstances to the doctor's brother at Southampton. My governess had a most happy knack of entering into the feelings and pursuits of children. She discover- ed a benevolent interest in promoting their innocent pleasures, and a holy aptitude at turning every thing to good account. It was common, when she was tolera- SKIPPING. 75 bly well, to apply to her to preside over our sports, or to invent some new play for us. Skipping was a favourite exercise. To accustom us to jump with agility and re- gularity, a rope was provided long enough for the whole school to skip together, one girl at each end holding the rope, and throwing it round the rest. This was a play in which I never could succeed ; almost as often as I was admitted to try, my irregular jump threw the whole into confusion, the rope was tangled, the girls thrown down, and as they good-naturedly scrambled up again, all seemed to look upon me as the author of the mischief. *' See," said my governess, " how much inconvenience may result from one breach of punctuality ! One per- son failing to do his duty, even in a small particular, just at the right time, may throw a whole circle into disorder. Pray, my dear girls, guard against a habit of being a mi- nute too late for an appointment, a minute too late in bed, a minute too late at meals, a minute too late at the house of God. Remember every thing is beautiful in its season. Now, little Out-of-order, (she continued, addressing herself good-naturedly to me,) will you try again, or stand by me, and see how long the rest can go on without you?" I preferred the latter, and counted fifty-seven regular jumps of the whole school. After- wards, I tried again, but I don't think at that time, or any other, I ever exceeded ten jumps successively, without missing the rope ; so, as I justly deserved, I was con- signed to the awkward division, and sentenced to skip alone. To say the truth, I was not very fond of skip- ping at all. This I acknowledge as a fault. Skipping is a very healthy exercise, and I would recommend every girl, and especially if she feels greatly inclined to sit closely to reading or needle-work, to accustom herself 76 THE GIRL'S BOOK. every day, as a duty, to take at least an hour's exercise in this, or some other equally brisk sport, till it becomes a pleasure to her, which it certainly will in time to every one who is in good health. For want of this persever- ance, many girls get into bad health, and are languid and weakly through life. An unhealthy person cannot be so useful in the family, as one who is thoroughly healthy and brisk ; therefore it is a duty which young people owe to others as well as to themselves, to accustom them- selves to whatever is likely to promote their health and vigour. Many an hour have I sat, unobserved, in a closet appropriated to bonnets and bags, when I ought to have been among the rest jumping in the play-ground ; and sometimes I have been fetched out, sorely against my will, and deprived of the book, which so improperly engrossed my attention : and from my long experience of severe head-aches, let me urge on my young friends always to bear in mind Dr. Watts's happy combination, "In books, or work, or healthful play," and to give to each its due proportion. One of our winter evening plays was, " Birds, beasts, and fishes." Every girl knows the play, so I need only mention my governess's improvement of it. My young friends will recollect that each chooses for herself the name of some animal, which she gives in to the person who presides, but conceals it from the rest. The youngest of the party is then called out and challenged, " Of all the beasts on the earth, all the birds in the air, and all the fish- es in the sea, find me out a lion," or whatever other animal the president might name. If the little seeker happen to fix on the right person, she was then brought out, and expected to answer any question that might be BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES. 77 put to her concerning the animal whose character she had assumed ; and I assure you it was a very pretty ex- ercise of ingenuity, both to propose and to answer the questions. They were not in general of a scientific character, yet such as gave a general idea of the habits of animals, and often elicited interesting anecdotes of them. I will give you a specimen or two. One little girl chose to call herself a dolphin. On being called out by that name, she was required to de- scribe the creature. She described it as a great hump- backed fish, with its back ever so far above the water, and holes in its head, through which the water is thrown, and plays like a fountain. Governess. " And why do you choose to be called a dolphin V 9 — " Because it is a kind fish, and when there is a shipwreck, it takes the sailors on its back, and carries them to shore." Gover- ness. " Well, that is a good reason for your choice, and I hope you will always discover a kind disposition, and a readiness to help persons in distress. But as far as the fish is concerned, I question the fact. I believe it is only found in the fables of historians and poets. Miss Lindley, you have lately read Natural History ; do you recollect any particulars of the dolphin ?" " It is stated, ma'am, that there are four species : the white fish, the grampus, the porpoise, or sea-hog, and the ' true dolphin.' The white fish abounds in America, and is valuable for its oil and skin, of which a leather is made resembling morocco ; which though thin, is strong enough to resist a musket-ball. The grampus chiefly inhabits the northern regions. It is exceedingly vora- cious, and is distinguished as the great enemy of the whale. The porpoise is very abundant in the seas which surround Great Britain, especially at the time when 7* 78 TH E G IRL'S BOOK. mackerel, salmon, or herrings appear, and pursues these fishes up the bays, almost as a dog would hunt a hare. The porpoise yields a large quantity of excellent oil. All these fish swim against the wind ; and at the approach of a storm they are much disturbed, and tumble about in the most grotesque manner. The true dolphin is that which is represented in pictures, and on medals, gene- rally with a human being seated on its back. The form in which it is generally depicted is not natural to it, but is assumed when itJeaps out of the water. The account of its fondness for the human race seems to be entirely fabulous, and is supposed by some writers to have origi- nated in emblematical representations of the preserva- tion of the human race in the ark, at the time of the ge- neral deluge." Our governess said she would tell us a true history, not of one only, but of several lives being saved by means of a dolphin. It was as follows : — " There is in Bristol a charitable institution called i Colston's School,' from the name of its founder. The scholars wear on their breasts the figure of a dolphin in brass ; the reason of which is as follows : — Mr. Colston, a rich West India merchant, was coming home with a ship which contained all his treasure ; she sprang a leak, and after having pumped for a long time, day and night, the people on board were every moment expecting to go to the bottom. All at once, to their great astonishment, the leak was stopped. On examination, it was found that a dolphin had providentially squeezed itself into the hole, and thus saved them from destruction. Mr. Col- ston founded this school ; and as a memorial of the de- liverance, ordered this emblem of a dolphin to be worn as a mark both of his deliverance, and his gratitude." A GOSSIP THE GOOSE AND SWAN. '9 Another of the young ladies called herself a lion, which she admired as distinguished for courage and ge- nerosity. As an instance of the latter quality, she men. tioned having seen a lion in the Tower of London, who had spared the life of a little dog that was thrown to it, and which it treated with the greatest kindness and ten- derness. My governess observed that this instance was most extraordinary ; and that it would not be safe to trust to -the generosity and compassion of a lion. As to its courage, she said the best way of imitating that, was by maintaining a good conscience : " Guilt," said she, " makes a man a coward, but the righteous is as bold as a lion." One very little girl called herself a goose ; all present were disposed to smile at her preference, which she jus- tified by saying, " My papa chooses me to be called a goose. Some company once talked nonsense, and flat- tered me, and papa begged they would not speak so, or they would make him reckon his goose as a swan ; and he kissed me, and called me his little goose. If papa loves me as a goose, I'm sure I don't want to be a swan." That saying, remarked my governess, is very commonly applied to the undue partiality of parents for their own children. It is very foolish to think of them, and especially to teach them to think of themselves, more highly than they deserve. The goose is generally reck- oned a silly bird ; but it would look ten times sillier than itself, if it should attempt to imitate the majesty of the swan : just so, young ladies look when they give them- selves airs of affectation, and attempt to appear, or wish to be thought in any respect different from what they really are. Just opposite our school lived a notorious gossip ; she 80 THE GIRL'S BOOK. was often seen lolling out at her one-pair-of-stairs win- dow by the half hour together, talking to any one who would stand and talk with her, and making her remarks upon whatever passed in the street. Just as our gover- ness was speaking about geese, and affected young la- dies, up flew Mrs. Sibley's window, and out craned her long neck, and to work went her busy tongue, to inquire who all those ladies could be that had just gone by in Squire Prescott's carriage. Our window was open ; we could not help catching the sound of her shrill voice ; and one of our number, a lively girl, exclaimed, " 0, pray, ma'am, do look at Mrs. Sibley : is she not just like a goose on a common, stretching its neck, and cackling at every horse and cow that goes by?" The compari- son was very amusing to all of the girls ; and even Mrs. P., with all her gravity, could hardly suppress a curl in the corner of her lip. For myself, I must own I have seldom seen a silly woman gaping in idle curiosity after other people's affairs, or chattering nineteen to the dozen on subjects she did not understand, or that did not con- cern her, but the goose on the common, and Mrs. Sib- ley looking out of her window, have presented themselves to my mind. This trifling anecdote will have been worth mentioning, if it should put any young lady on her guard against deserving such degrading comparisons to be applied to her. A sensible woman is never seen look- ing out of the window, and making her remarks on neigh- bours, or passengers. The river that flowed at the end of our garden was frequented by a pair of swans, and a pair of geese, each with a brood of young ones. We were much interested in observing them, and feeding them with bits of bread or biscuit. There always seemed a jealousy between THE SWAN. 81 them. The old birds often cast a scowling look at each other, and sometimes hissed, and napped their wings, as if preparing for a battle. At length they had a violent encounter ; I cannot take upon me to say which was the aggressor, nor is it very material. In most quarrels it is hard to say which party was most to blame at first, and often they begin in such trifles as can hardly be re- membered ; but if neither party has wisdom and humility enough to sacrifice pride for peace, the contest will pro- bably lead to results far more serious than either had anticipated. It was so with the haughty swan and gan- der. After a severe struggle in the open river, one chased the other down a narrow stream, and under the arch of a small bridge. It was during a high flood, and both birds perished under the arch. I shall never forget the anxious plaintive looks of the widowed swan and goose, who remained several days at the mouth of the stream, expecting the return of their partners. Many scenes as disastrous occur in human society, and enforce the caution — "The beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water ; therefore leave off contention before it be meddled with." I am sorry that I cannot quite recollect some lines repeated to us by our governess, which ended the con- versation about geese and swans. They are founded on the fabulous idea that the swan only sings just before its death. " The stately swan, while living, has no note Till death shall come to close its silent throat : Leaning her head upon the reedy shore, She sung her first and last, and sung no more. And thus, expiring, cries, ' There are more geese than swans, more fools, than wise.'" 82 THE GIRL'S BOOK. The dog was a general favourite; and seldom was the play adopted without eliciting some interesting anec- dote of his sagacity and fidelity. However often told, these anecdotes are interesting still. Who has not read with delight the touching account of Argus, the celebra- ted dog of Ulysses, who recognised his master after twenty years' absence, though he came home weather- beaten, and way-worn, and in the garb of a beggar? Rogers, in his " Pleasures of Memory," describes the fidelity of the dog in a very touching manner, and invites the memory to " Recall the traveller, whose alter'd form Has borne the buffet of the mountain storm ; And who will first his fond impatience meet ? His faithful dog's already at his feet. Yes ! though the porter spurns him from the door, Though all who knew him know his face no more, The faithful dog shall tell his joy to each With that mute eloquence that passes speech. And see, — the master but returns to die — Yet who shall bid the watchful servant fly ? The blasts of heav'n, the drenching dews of earth, The wanton insults of unfeeling mirth ? These, when to guard misfortune's sacred grave, Will firm fidelity exult to brave." One of our companions had lately visited Ditc'hley House, in Oxfordshire, where she had seen the painting of a mastiff who saved the life of his master, Sir Harry Lea. Underneath are the words, " More faithful than favoured." The dog, it seems, had been little noticed by his master, and scarcely ever admitted to his pres- ence, but was fed by a servant, in whom the greatest confidence was placed. This servant, however, proved treacherous, and laid a plot to rob and mu.der his mas- DOGS. 83 ter, which was defeated by the unaccountable instinct and fidelity of the dog, who placed himself under his master's bed, and pertinaciously resisted all attempts to remove him. When the villain approached to attempt his deadly purpose, the dog seized him, although it was the person by whom he had been regularly fed, and against whom he had no other cause of displeasure. Thus the master's life was preserved, and the villain brought to justice. Another circumstance was mentioned, in which the parties were well known to my parents. It took place many years ago, when robberies in the outskirts of Lon- don were much more frequent than at present, since so much improvement has been effected in lighting and watching. A good man, belonging to the Old Artillery Company, having to attend an exercise in the Artillery Ground, his wife accompanied him ; they afterwards visited a friend in Moorfields, and about dusk set off on their return home. They had not gone far before they were joined by a large Newfoundland dog, which they in vain endeavoured to drive off. They even returned to the house of their friend, hoping that when the door was shut on the strange dog, he would take himself away. But when again they left the house, their com- panion was waiting for them : the good woman felt rather timid, but her husband persuaded her to go on, and not regard the animal, who did not seem at all dis- posed to injure them. They proceeded ; and in passing through Stepney church-yard were met by a very ill- looking man, who came towards them, and then turned back, and joined two or three companions who waited in the porch. As Mr. and Mrs. K. passed the porch, they distinctly heard the angry interrogation, " Why have you 84 THE GIRL'S BOOK. not done it?" and the reply, with an oath, " I could not ; they had such a great dog with them." The feelings of the worthy couple were now very different towards their uninvited companion, whom they could not but regard as a protector, sent them by Him who has all creatures at his command. The faithful dog accompanied them till they reached their home, but no persuasions could induce him to enter the house. These anecdotes elicited many inquiries on the sub- ject of the animal instinct. One little girl inquired whe- ther the dog had overheard the wicked men talking of their intention 1 another thought it possible that without hearing and understanding their language, the dog might observe something in their manners, when the man and woman passed in the afternoon, that indicated an inten- tion to injure them, and induced him to follow as their protector. But it was unanimously agreed that the pro- tection must be ascribed to the kind interference of Pro- vidence. Such interferences, observed our governess, are exerted on our behalf every day of our lives. Though we do not immediately discern them, we ought, much more than we do, humbly to commit ourselves to the Divine care, and to feel constant gratitude for pro- tection and preservation every day and every night of our lives. Mrs. P. had so much kindness and cheerfulness as well as solemnity of manner, that remark from her never seemed out of place. It commanded attention, and cast over the little group a mellowness of feeling, without any thing like gloom or interruption of pleasure. I do not imagine that all her useful sayings were re- membered by all the girls, or any of them by some, yet I cannot doubt that some of her hints, given even in play DOGS. 85 hours, have proved like a nail fastened in a sure place, to hang on valuable instruction, and afford real profit through life. Among the instances of sagacity in dogs, there were two with which I was much interested ; they were men- tioned by an old gentleman visiting at our school, to whom the facts were well known. 1 think also, that one, or both, are recorded in Bingley's Animal Biography. A gentleman from Lancashire was in the habit, twice a year, of taking a journey to London on horseback, ac- companied by a faithful little terrier dog ; which, how- ever, he did not take into London with him, but left it at St. Alban's, in the care of the landlady at the inn. After remaining in London two or three weeks, he called for the dog on his way home. On one occasion the land- lady, with great concern, told him that his little dog was lost ; that almost immediately after he had left the house, their great house dog had set on the little terrier, and bit him so that they thought he must have been killed before they could be parted. It then crawled out of the yard, and was missing for nearly a week, when most unexpect- edly he returned, accompanied by a very large mastiff. The little dog, with an appearance of the greatest confi- dence and satisfaction, conducted his powerful friend to the great dog who had injured him ; and both of them together bestowed on the aggressor a chastisement full as severe as the injury he had inflicted. They then dis- appeared together, and had not since been seen at St. Alban's. The gentleman marvelled at the relation, and was exceedingly grieved at the loss of his little favour- ite ; but what was his astonishment, on arriving at his house in Lancashire, to find the dog safe there ! On in- quiry, it was proved that the dog had paid a previous 8 86 THE GIRL'S BOOK. visit to home, evidently for the express purpose of throw- ing himself on the protection of his old friend, whom, with every fond art, he enticed away to become his champion. It is a mean and dastardly thing, as well as highly criminal, to injure or oppress any, because they are apparently without the means of resistence or re- dress, and such conduct is often very unexpectedly punished. We have even the highest and most sacred authority for saying, " Rob not the poor because he is poor, neither oppress the afflicted in the gate ; for the Lord will plead their cause, and spoil the soul of those that spoiled them." The other canine anecdote, to which I referred, dis- played benevolence connected with sagacity, equal to the resentment which was discovered in the former case. A dog having been severely injured, was taken to a sur- geon, who set a fractured limb, and dressed his wounds. After being once or twice carried thither, he regularly went of his own accord, until perfectly cured. When- ever, afterwards, he chanced to meet the surgeon in the street, he ran to him, wagged his tail, crouched at his feet, licked his hand, and laboured to express his grati- tude and attachment. Nor was this all : another dog happening to be injured in a similar way, he conducted him to the house of the benevolent surgeon, and, in all but verbal language, placed his suffering companion un- der the care and skill of which he had proved the benefit by experience. Since the stupidity and ingratitude of man are in Scripture reproved by a reference to the ox and the ass, (Isaiah i. 3,) we are warranted in adopting the example of this grateful and benevolent dog, to sti- mulate us, if we know any thing of the great Physician of souls, to evince our gratitude by speaking his praise, MY LADY'S TOILET. &7 and by directing other wounded souls to repair to him for healing. Another common play which was turned to good ac- count, is called " My lady's toilet." It is a lively play, and when we had tired ourselves with the jumping part of it, we sat down to rest ourselves ; and each girl gave some account of the article by which she had chosen to distinguish herself. This was really an improving exercise, especially for the little ones ; and sometimes drew forth from the elder girls recollections of what they had read, or anecdotes of what they had seen, as well as gave an opportunity of correcting those mistaken ideas of common things, which children are very apt to enter- tain. The most simple conversation, to which a rational turn is given, can hardly fail of doing some good ; at all events it is better than talking nonsense. Thus, — 44 Well Goody Twoshoes, what are shoes made of?" " Leather." " What is leather?" " The skin of beasts." " How is it prepared for use ?" " By tan- ning." " What do you mean by tanning 1" " The skins are taken to the tanyard ; but — I don't quite know what they do to them there." " I can tell you a little about it : my father is a tanner ; and when I was a very little girl, he taught me to remember these few things : — The skins of large animals, such as oxen, are called hides ; they are very thick, and used for the soles of shoes. The skin of calves, seals, and goats, is thinner and softer, and this is used for the upper leather of shoes. There are three things to be done to hides and skins. The hair is to be got off: for this purpose they are hung in a close, smoky room, which loosens the hair, and then they are scraped with a large knife. Then the skins must be prepared for putrefying, and made to keep out S3 water : for this purpose they are first steeped several times in lime water, and afterwards in oak bark and water. They lie in this for several weeks ; then, when the bark becomes poor, they take it out and put fresh, and keep doing so till the skins are tanned enough. Then they dry them gradually, and press them smooth." " Why," said one of the young ladies, " are the skins kept steeping so long in the pits 1 " Governess. " That the astringent property of the oak bark may soak into all the pores, and harden the leather. The skin of animals is like a kind of net- work : you may have observed, when you are very hot, that the perspira- tion seems to start out of a number of little holes or pores ; the bark binds and hardens the skin, and dries up these pores, so that afterwards water cannot easily pass through them." " I know what astringent things do to leather," said another, " for I once set about to dye some gloves. I had heard that logwood and alum were used to dye pur- ple : so I got a pennyworth of logwood, and a penny- worth of alum, and boiled them together, and dipped three pair of gloves. After soaking for an hour or two, they shrunk to a very small size ; but I hoped they would come to rights in drying : instead of that, when dry they were quite thick and hard, and not much larger than a doll's glove. My mamma said it was the astringent pro- perty of the alum that had done it ; and the worst of it was, I had to buy new gloves out of my pocket-money for having dyed my others without leave. But I suppose the tanners manage better with their leather." Governess. " Yes ; their business is to understand the proper proportions of their different ingredients, and the time required for the process ; and when you try INVENTION. 89 such another experiment, it will be better for you to obtain more correct information before you set about using a pennyworth or two of ingredients, or an hour or two of time." A little one here asked, " I wonder how people at first found the way of preserving the skins of animals, and making them useful f Governess. " Like most other useful discoveries, it was probably at first accidental. But then there must have been thoughtful, observant persons, who took notice of what they saw, and applied it to purposes of practical utility. Suppose that a skin, having been left out in the field for some considerable time, it should be observed that a part of it was corrupted, and another part compa- ratively dry and sound, it would become a matter of in- quiry what could have produced the difference ? and it would be found that the sound part had come in contact with some vegetable substance, or, perhaps, some differ- ent kind of earth, or mineral water, which had not come in contact with the other part. This would suggest the idea that the change had been effected by means of the vegetable or the mineral substance. To prove this, the careful observer would try another skin, brought under the influence of the same body ; after several trials, it would be established as a matter of science, that such a combination would produce such a change. On this dis- covery, gradual improvements would be made as to pro- portions, time, and other particulars, until the art attained its present state of advancement. There is something very interesting in tracing the invention and improve- ments of the various arts of life. Only think how much invention, ingenuity, and industry, must have been em- ployed in erecting and furnishing our habitations, in 8* 90 THE GIRL'S BOOK. clothing our persons, and in affording us all the various conveniences we enjoy ! " " Do you think, ma'am," added another/" that people will still go on to invent, or do you think that every thing useful has been already found out? " Governess. " I have no doubt that invention and dis- covery will go on as long as the world remains. The stores of nature are boundless ; and every year is add- ing to the list of those employed for the service of man, and convincing us that nothing has been made in vain. Every person who invents, or finds out the properties and uses of things, which were before unknown, deserves to be regarded as a benefactor to mankind." " I should very much like to invent or find out some- thing useful," said an intelligent girl. " Do you think I could if I were to try 1 " Governess. " I should not recommend you to spend time in speculating, and trying to invent, without a speci- fic object ; but rather to pay attention to whatever comes under your notice, taking every opportunity of gaining information, and of applying what you know to practi- cal purposes. If you habitually do this, I think it is hardly likely that you should go through life without making some discovery or improvement, that will prove really useful. At all events, you will acquire an aptitude at doing common things properly, which will conduce, in no small degree, to the welfare and comfort of those by whom you are surrounded. It is an effort of female in- vention of no mean value, that enables the mistress of a house to provide comfortably for her family and guests, at the least possible expense of time and property, and that furnishes her with the means of feeding or clothing the needy from those shreds of materials and time, which her less managing neighbour suffers to run to waste." INVENTION. 91 It was just after this conversation on invention, that some of the young ladies started a plan, which was soon pretty generally adopted in the school, that of working up all our little odds and ends for the benefit of the poor. Several pretty little cradle-quilts were made of patch- work ; some who had finished pieces of embroidery, or worsted work, used up their remnants of silk in pin- cushions and watch pockets ; of worsted, in kettle hold- ers ; and of lamb's wool in baby's shoes. Under the di- rection of our kind governess, these articles were sold, and the produce expended on the purchase of flannel, calico, and printed cotton, which afforded fresh amuse- ment to make up for the use of poor children. " TV ell," said my governess, " I congratulate you, my dear chil- dren, on your ingenuity and invention, and especially on the beneficial direction you have given to them ; I am rather disposed to honour you than the inventor of gun- powder, or of ardent spirits, — those curses of mankind." CHAPTER V, SCHOOL ANECDOTES CONTINUED. — CONVERSING IN FRENCH. — WRITING FROM DICTATION. — PRECISION. — EXPLETIVES. — QUESTIONS AT THE DINNER TA- BLE. — THE OSTRICH. — PRECIOUS POSSESSIONS. — MR. B. ,THE WRITING- MASTER. — EXERCISES. — LETTERS. — HABITS. — PUNISHMENTS. — THE LY- ING APRON. — INSURRECTION. It was the custom with us, as I believe it is in most schools, to converse only in French. It really did seem very hard and awkward to be thus restricted, especially in play hours, and when addressing those girls who did not learn French ; and I never could quite discern the reason of it : but the measure was adopted by wiser heads than mine. Perhaps it was wisely designed as a check to the unnecessary use of the organs of speech — an ex- travagance to which young ladies are generally supposed to be more or less addicted. Certain it is, that there was no deficiency even with this embargo, though there was a strong desire for emancipation from it : and this peti- tion was the usual adjunct to our expression of thanks for the grant of a holiday. " The young ladies hope you CONVERSING IN FRENCH. 93 will be pleased to crown the indulgence by permitting them to speak English." I am glad it does not devolve upon me to record the number of words that on these occasions flowed from twenty or thirty merry tongues at once set loose from all restrictions, I hope I may say, except those of truth and propriety. A kind friend once took a little girl of mine to ride in her carriage. On their return, the little girl said, " Mother, I have been so happy, for Mrs. H. let me talk all the way." If this frank avowal accords with the feelings of little girls in general, as I am inclined to think it does, it suggests the need of caution, that they do not indulge this propensity of speak- ing, when they ought to be silent, or when they might, with greater advantage, be listening to the conversation of others. The misconstruction of French phrases by the English scholars, was often a source of amusement. I remem- ber asking a good-natured little girl to lend me a map of Europe, from which to copy. " Yes, that I will ; I un- derstand you ; I will fetch it directly." Away she bound- ed, pleased with an opportunity of obliging, and pleased at having, as she thought, so readily understood my re- quest ; and in a moment brought me her skipping rope, having mistaken Europe for your rope. Another, a new scholar, who was not so good temper- ed, but ready to take offence at what she did not under- stand, made a formal complaint to my governess, that the girls called her bad names in French. On being ques- tioned, she replied, " They are always calling me Kel- lority." " And what does Kellority mean 1 " asked my governess. " I do not know," she replied indignantly ; " but I think it has something to do with my name, being Kitty, and I know they say it on purpose to vex me." 94 THE GIRL'S BOOK. The fact was this : Kitty was the only girl in the school who had a watch, which was, in consequence, a general object of attraction and curiosity, and they frequently crowded round her, and asked, " Quel heure est il ?" — " What o'clock is it?" Our touchy companion was not easily convinced that no offence was intended. Our gov- erness kindly checked the laugh that was going round at her expense, and took the opportunity of impressing on us all the importance of not being soon angry : " For every trifle scorn to take offence, That always shows great pride or little sense ;" and those persons do much to promote their own happi- ness, and the happiness of those around them, who would rather overlook twenty designed affronts, than once suf- fer themselves to be angry and resentful where no offence was intended. This is worth notice by the young ladies of the present day. A very improving practice adopted in our school, was that of writing from dictation. My governess generally herself read a few sentences either in prose or verse, from some approved author, which we wrote after her, and then showed up our slates for correction. This ex- ercise served at once to ascertain our proficiency in spell- ing, and our understanding, both of words in general, and of the sense of the author in that particular passage, as well as to communicate to an intelligent mind the real meaning of a passage. Many a fluent reciter was thus detected in utter ignorance. Some who professed to be very fond of poetry, but who, in fact, were only taken with the jingle of numbers and rhyme, when they heard the words repeated, according to the sense, were found utterly incapable of reducing them to lines or stanzas. AWKWARD MISTAKES. 95 Sometimes words of similar sound, but of different spell- ing and signification, were adopted, which made complete nonsense, and proved that the sentiment of the author had never reached the mind of the transcriber. I remem- ber reading of a " hermit who dwelt in a moss-grown sell," of the " moon being in its wain," and of the " whi- tened beech" and the " poet's baize," " a small leek will sink a great ship." In an ingenious enigma, descriptive of a new-born child, one of our number wrote — " Bear were his feet, and bear his head." But the most diverting blunder was committed on Cow- per's apostrophe to tobacco — " Pernicious weed ! whose scent the fair annoys," Sac. One girl showed up her slate with — " Pernicious weed, who sent the fair Ann Hoys." You may suppose, that when these mistakes appeared, it was not easy to suppress a general titter at the writer's expense ; but I always observed in our good governess, a marked difference of manner when correcting a simple misapprehension, or any want of information which it was no disgrace not to have possessed, and when reproving a mingled display of ignorance, pertness, and self-con- ceit. In the first instance, in the mildest and gentlest manner, she led the young learner to find out the sense of the author, without exposing her to mortification at having mistaken it ; but in the other, she certainly had a talent for making a vain, conceited girl, appear very lit- tle and contemptible in her own eyes. To avoid such mortification, as well as to ensure real improvement, our governess recommended us, whenever we met with a word 96 THE GIRL'S BOOK. either in books or in conversation, which we did not ex- actly understand, at once to refer to the dictionary ; or, if we had not a dictionary at hand, to make a memorandum of the word, and take the earliest opportunity of exam- ining. She was even so kind as to permit us, if a word so occurred while reading to her, to seek the explanation before we proceeded. " I would rather," she observed, " that you should read half a page with understanding, than half a volume merely by the eye and ear ; and I think you are more likely to receive and retain an exact explanation by searching for yourselves in the dictionary, than by receiving it from me." I recollect in this man- ner being taught to distinguish between different modi- fications of the same word, especially those compound- ed with the particles dis or in. My young readers will excuse my mentioning this ; but I have sometimes re- ceived or read polite and neatly written notes, in which there has been a want of precision in these little particu- lars, sufficient to subject the writer to the charge of ig- norance or inattention. A friend of mine once, when recommending a young woman to service, observed that she had been particu- larly pleased with her civil and respectable manner of speaking to her employers. I have no doubt she meant respectful. I could not take the liberty of correcting her, but a moment's consideration would have taught her that respectable means worthy of respect from others ; respect- ful means yielding respect to others. In like manner, some persons in using the inseparable particle in, un, dis, &c, are not particular in observing whether they wish to express them in a privative or merely a negative sense. I have heard young ladies (who, by the way, are rather apt to use a longer word, when a shorter would EXPLETIVES PROVINCIALISMS. 97 serve as well or better,) speak of a person being incapa- citated for a certain office, when they merely meant that he was incapable. My governess would have said, — " Pray, miss, was he ever capable 1 and if so, by what means did he become incapacitated ? An infant is in- capable of walking. One person is incapable of read- ing a book, because he has never learned to read at all, or to read the language in which the book is written ; but another is incapacitated from reading the book, because, though he perfectly understands the language, he is blind." One of our scholars, who was a half-boarder, and in the habit of receiving and delivering messages, one day asked, " Pray, ma'am, is the errand-man want- ing to-day V 1 " I hope not, Miss Jones ; If I thought he were as greatly wanting in care and fidelity, as you are in a correct use of the English language, I should be very loth to employ him ; but not having hitherto found him wanting, he is wanted to-day to call at the worsted shop, in Newgate-street, and match these patterns of lamb's- wool and floss-silk." By such illustrations, she would so completely fix a distinction in our minds, that there was not much danger of our again confounding the words. This reminds me of my governess's way of curing her scholars of the use of unmeaning expletives and vulgar provincialisms, which were generally brought in by new scholars, and which, if not corrected, were sure to be imi- tated. Perhaps the style of some young ladies in the present day might be improved, if they would tax them- selves to look in the dictionary for the meaning of every word which they have been accustomed to use in an un- meaning connexion. " My head aches like any thing," was the common complaint of an indolent little girl, when she wanted an excuse for laying aside her book or work. 9 98 THE GIRL'S BOOK. " Indeed!" said my governess, " does it ache like a house, a tree, a stone, a horse, a bird, a fish? Come, look out these six words in the dictionary, and see what the things they express have to do with the head-ache." " Please, ma'am," said a new scholar from Hunting- donshire, " I asked Miss to hitch a little farther, and she wont budge for me." " Be kind enough, my dear, to explain to us the mean- ing of those elegant words, and then I doubt not your companion will render you the desired accommodation. Let us hear what Dr. Johnson says on the subject. To hitch, says the lexicographer, is to catch, to move by jerks ; he can find but one instance of its use, and there he does not well know what it means. Budge, he informs us, is to stir, to move off the place ; but he adds, ' it is a low word.' Now»" continued my governess, " as we do not wish to adopt unmeaning or low words here, if you ask Miss Thomson to move a little farther, she will un- derstand your meaning, and comply with your request." A few such exercises generally effected a cure. Among our school customs, I must not forget that at the dinner table the young ladies were permitted, and re- quired each in turn, to propose a question, which, accord- ing to its nature, was sometimes answered, and some- times discussed. In case the girl whose turn it was ? could not start any question of her own, she was at liberty to select one from a little book which always lay on the table. I do not know the title of the book, but as far as I can recollect, the questions were mostly on the Scriptures, with a reference to the passages where the an- swer might be found ; such as, " What bird is character- ized in Scripture by silliness, cruelty, and want of under- standing V 9 " The ostrich, Job xxxix. 17." "What QUE STIONS AT DINNER-TABLE. 99 particular instances are given V " Her neglect of her young ; she leaves her eggs in the sand to be hatched by the sun, and does not, like other birds, confine herself to attend to them, but forgets that they are her own, and carelessly leaves them exposed, to be crushed by the foot of the passenger." "By what properties is the ostrich distinguished V " By its stature, its plumage, and its swiftness, Job xxxix. 13 — 18." " Do you recollect any instance of silliness in the ostrich not expressly mention- ed in Scripture, but of which you have read in Natural History?" "The ostrich will flee from her pursuers with incredible swiftness, and can for hours outrun the fleetest horses, which are trained for the purpose of hunt- ing her. But if she finds that her strength begins to fail, and her pursuers are likely to overtake her, she hides her head in the sand, and imagines that they cannot see her ; thus she is infallibly taken." " What characters among men may be said to resemble the ostrich !" " Those pa- rents who neglect to take care of their children, Lam. iv. 3." " Those who are careless of their property, and suf- fer it to be injured or wasted for want of proper care." " Those who are more distinguished by outward appear- ance, than by mental and moral worth." " Those who employ their abilities merely for their own interests, to the neglect of the welfare of others, especially of those who have the strongest claims upon them." " Those who at- tempt to conceal their sins, and flatter themselves they can escape detection by the eye of God." " What possessions has Solomon characterized as precious V 9 " Wisdom, Prov. iii. 15 ; the substance of a diligent man, Prov. xii. 27 ; the lips of knowledge, Prov. xx. 15 ; a virtuous woman, Prov. xxxi. 10 ; a good name, Prov. xxii. 1 ; Eccles. vii. 1." On these pas- 100 THE GIRL'S BOOK. sages other questions would be grounded, such as, •* What did Solomon mean by wisdom V 9 " True reli- gion." " Wherein consists its preciousness V 9 " It is that by which alone we can enjoy and improve life, and be fitted for death, judgment, and eternity." " How is the substance of a diligent man precious V 9 " Because it results from the blessing of Heaven on his own industry." " Because he sets a proper value upon it, and does not squander it as do the idle and vicious." " Because he enjoys it with a good conscience and a contented mind." " Because he turns it to good ac- count, and so it becomes a blessing to himself and others " " Why are the lips of knowledge precious?" " Be- cause knowledge is excellent and valuable in itself." " Because the lips of knowledge impart that which may be of great utility to others. The sayings of a wise man have taught wisdom to many, and have been the means of preserving them from the way of vice and folly." " Because the lips of knowledge are scarce ; foolish, vain, and unprofitable words are much more common than such as are wise and profitable." " What are the characteristics of a virtuous woman, as enumerated in Prov. xxxi. 1" " Industry : she layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff, ver. 19 ; she eats not the bread of idleness, ver. 27." " Discretion and good management : she considers, and then buys, ver. 16." " The heart of her husband may safely trust in her, ver. 11." " She looks well to the ways of her household, ver. 27." " Wisdom: she openeth her mouth with wisdom, ver. 26." " Forecast : she provides against winter before it comes, ver. 21." " Kindness : in her tongue is the law of kindness, ver. QUESTIONS AT DINNER-TABLE. 101 26." " Charity : she stretches out her hands to the poor and needy, ver. 20." " Affection and fidelity to her hus- band: her husband trusts her, ver. 11 ; praises her, ver. 28 ; and has his credit and reputation increased by her, 23." "Pious care for her children: they arise up and call her blessed, ver. 28." " Virtue in general : Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all, ver. 29." " Piety : Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain ; but a woman thatfeareth the Lord, she shall be praised, ver. 30." " Why is such a woman esteemed so precious, as to be valued far above rubies \" " Be- cause she is truly excellent and honourable in herself." " Because she diffuses happiness through the circle in which she moves." "Because the effect of her good instructions and example are extended to families and ge- nerations beyond thes phere of her own immediate con- nexions, and the period of her mortal life." " Why is a good name precious V 1 " Because it gains a man more respect and love than riches alone could do." " Because an established character is a perpetual restraint from evil, and a stimulus to what is good. We do not willingly consent to any thing which would sully our good name." " Because a good name gives weight to all our endeavours to instruct and do good to others. The best instruction and advice are often rendered useless by the inconsistencies of those who offer them ; but a blameless and honourable character gives weight to the words of truth and soberness." " Be- cause a good name outlives its possessor." " Then I'll not be proud of my wealth, youth, or beauty, Since all of them wither and fade ; But gain a good name by well doing my duty, 'Twill scent like a rose when I'm dead." 9* 102 THE GIRL$S BOOK. But I must not go on. These examples will serve by way of specimen ; and should the plan be adopted in any family or school, it can hardly fail of suggesting some instructive hints, and at least employing the time better than in idle and unprofitable gossip. The instructions of our writing-master were not con- fined, as is commonly the case, to writing and arithmetic ; and even in these he contrived, in an unusual degree, to blend intellectual with mechanical improvement. His arithmetical questions combined some interesting fact in history which was thus indelibly impressed on our minds. Even his reproofs and directions in the matter of holding a pen, were sure to slip in some sentiment which perhaps retained a stronger hold from the indirect way in which it was insinuated. " Don't cramp your fingers together, and give us little, mean, cringing-look- ing letters, like a man who knows he has done something to be ashamed of." " Well, I dare say you think this a fine copy, but none of your painting for me ! Make a bold stroke, and do the best you can at once. Even if you fail, maintain your own character ; any thing is better than touching and retouching to hide a fault, and trying to appear different from what you are. However rude and clumsy the first strokes, I have hope of a child who is content to let them appear as they are, and to endeavour to correct faults in her next attempt." In a rather or- namental copy, a long s was employed where the letter was not doubled, or if doubled, two long letters. The pupil inquired if this was proper. " You may, some- times," replied Mr. B. " sacrifice strict propriety to ele- gance, but never truth or integrity. Some things are rendered proper, merely by arbitrary custom, and may be set aside ; but the principles of right or wrong are EXERCISES — WEEKLY LETTERS. 103 immutable. However, where custom is indifferent, it is, perhaps, as well not wantonly to deviate from it ; a short s would have been quite as well in this place, except that it would not have lead you to inquire whether it was established upon principle or custom." By the same worthy master we were instructed in geography, history, and astronomy ; and most delightful were the hours de- voted to familiar lectures and conversation on these sub- jects, when we were encouraged to ask any questions or mention any difficulties, which led to our receiving in- struction far more specific and satisfactory than could possibly have been attained by merely reading or com- mitting to memory. Our exercises were so contrived as to promote im- provement in several particulars at once. If a problem on the globe was given, we were expected, after having been instructed in it by Mr. B., to work it by ourselves, and write a description of the working in our own words, to be shown up at his next visit- In geography, the name of a country, island, or city, was given as the ground of a weekly exercise. We were to search in Gazetteers or other works for particulars, and then to write, in our own words, an account of its situation, ex- tent, population, customs, and historical connexions. In history, the reign of a monarch, or the name of some distinguished statesman, hero, or other character, form- ed the text, each pupil being required to inform herself of the date of his history, and the leading incidents of his life, and to make some remarks on the prevailing excel- lences or defects of his character. Sometimes these exercises were varied, by substituting a popular proverb or sententious maxim, on which we were to express our thoughts in writing ; such as, " Prosperity gains friends, 104 THE GIRL'S BOOK. adversity tries them." " Man, know thyself; all wis- dom centres here." " Procrastination is the thief of time." These juvenile exercises were not looked upon with a very critical eye. I observed that our kind master was more disposed to encourage than to intimidate. If any erroneous sentiment was expressed, he gently point- ed out the error, but seemed much better pleased when he could commend a correct inference, or a happy illus- tration. How kindly would he pat the head, and say, " Well, my dear child, what books have you consulted on this subject? I am delighted to find that you have thought so justly upon it. Maintain these sentiments, and act on these principles, and you will be through life respectable and happy. F is a book which you might read with advantage. Inquire whether your papa has it in his library. If not, I shall be happy to lend it you as a reward for that very excellent exercise." Happy was the girl who gained this token of approbation. Another profitable, but sometimes very embarrassing exercise, was that of writing a weekly letter to our go- verness, containing an outline of our various studies and pursuits through the week, with occasional remarks on the authors we had been reading, or on the characters that had been brought before us. But here was the try- ing part : we were also required to give a faithful record of our own progress and conduct. I may appeal to my young friends whether they think it was very plea- sant to make entries such as these : — "I am sorry to say that I have lost my place in the spelling class ;" " that I have had more than once to forfeit for not being up in due time in the morning ;" " that I have several times had the mark for talking in school hours ;" " that I have been guilty of perverseness and obstinacy in re- WEEKLY LETTERS. 105 fusing to do what was justly required of me ;" " that I have been detected in a fault which I endeavoured to conceal by dissimulation ;" " that I have been put to the bottom of the class for secretly copying the exercise of another, instead of working it out myself." 0, the burn- ing cheeks and tardy fingers with which such entries were made ! Yet, I doubt not the habit of self-examina- tion was very beneficial ; and even the consciousness that our conduct would again come under our own re- view, and that of our governess, often operated as a sa- lutary check or stimulus in the moment of temptation or of tardiness. I well remember being the subject of two bad habits, which, though not in themselves morally cri- minal, subjected me to frequent reproof, and generally in some degree clogged my weekly letter. — "1 regret to say that you have frequently had occasion to reprove me for stooping my head and holding my needle awkward- ly ;" or, in some happier weeks, — "I have endeavoured to pay more attention to the correction of my bad habits ; those especially of stooping my head, and holding my needle awkwardly. I venture to hope, that my endea- vours have not been without success, and that my ge- neral conduct has met your approbation." On reviewing that period of my life, I cannot help thinking that if I had regarded any bad habit, however trifling in itself, which gave pain to my parents or my governess, as an act of disobedience, and had set myself resolutely to resist and conquer it, the record might, in time, have ceased to blot my weekly letter, which, I am afraid never was the case. One of those habits I know was never broken through, and I have reason to think it has been productive of injurious consequences to my health. Let me advise my young friends not to make 106 THE GIRL'S BOOK. light of the formation of any habit, however trifling. If a parent or teacher has repeatedly to say, " Hold up your head — sit upright," the question becomes, not, Is it of any consequence, whether I hold up my head, or whether I stoop 1 but — " Whether I am obedient and at- tentive, or the reverse." Growing years will reward every conscientious attempt to resist and break through a bad habit, or they will reproach the carelessness and self-indulgence that suffered it to grow. My young friends wished to be informed what pun- ishments were employed by my governess. I think she must have been very sparing in the use of that branch of governance, for I have no recollection of enduring, and scarcely any of witnessing, its infliction, except in two or three very distressing cases, the impression of which will never be obliterated from my mind. In general, I think, if she had observed any thing wrong, she took the offender aside, and tenderly and affectionately set before her the impropriety of her conduct ; the punishment was generally a secret between the governess and the trans- gressor. Some little privation was fixed on in some way connected with the offence ; and it was much more frequently left to the honour of the pupil to refrain from the proscribed indulgence, than openly forbidden by the authority of the governess. It was different when the offence was of a public nature, and such as to set a bad example. In that case, the punishment was contrived to operate co-extensively with the injury. The punish- ment of deliberate falsehood was tremendous. I am happy to say that it occurred only twice during the period of my being at school. The offender was seated apart from the rest of the scholars, wearing an apron of white canvass, on which she was compelled to mark, in LYING APRON. 107 large glaring letters, the record of her own disgrace. " [Name,] told a falsehood, [date,] " This apron she wore a week ; after which it was laid by, and never brought out except on a similar melancholy occasion. The punishment certainly was effectual in promoting a general dread, and I hope, detestation of the crime ; but I have sometimes thought whether such an indelible disgrace might not have a tendency to dis- courage penitence in one who had transgressed.* How- ever, the methods pursued by my excellent governess were so conscientious, wise, and successful, that I scarcely venture to indulge a thought of censure against any particular measure, but am rather inclined to think there must have been some misapprehension on my part as to the nature and circumstances of the infliction. Certain it is, that no gibbeted malefactor, of which, in my childhood, there were several remained in different parts ofEngland,everstruck half the horror into my mind, as that which was associated with the " lying apron," of which, and of the two names, one in scarlet silk, the other in green, I have as distinct a recollection as if I had seen it worn yesterday. I am thankful for the ge- neral influence of the transaction, but should I now hap- pen to meet with either of those individuals, perhaps now irreproachable and exemplary characters, I should regret that the record of their childish transgression could never be obliterated from my memory. My dear young friends will do well to remember that there is a record yet more imperishable, which chronicles the thoughts, * We think with the author, that in most cases, such a punish- ment would have a bad influence, in producing mortification, and exciting angry feelings, rather than leading the heart to penitence and reformation. — Ed. ( 108 THE GIRL'S BOOK. words, and actions of every day, which will ere long be exhibited before an assembled world, and from which a foul entry can never be erased, except by the precious blood of Christ. " And must the crimes that I have done Be read and publish'd there ; Be all expos'd before the sun, While men and angels hear? " Lord, at thy feet asham'd I lie, Upward I dare not look • Pardon my sins before I die, And blot them from thy book. " Remember all the dying pains Which my Redeemer felt ; And let his blood wash out my stains, And answer for my guilt." The subject of punishments recalls to my recollection the discipline exercised on one of our number, who was addicted to the mean, disgraceful practice of pilfering any little nicety that might come in her way. The girls had frequently found their sweetmeats nibbled by teeth, apparently not those of mice. Complaints had been made by those who had put away seven prunes or figs, and found only five remaining ; and it was indisputably ascertained that certain pieces of pound cake had de- creased both in size and weight. These things had long been murmured among the girls. At length the French teacher observed that the lumps of sugar in her basin disappeared with unaccountable rapidity, and a jar of raspberry jam was nearly emptied. Suspicion was di- vided between the young lady already alluded to, and the servant, whose business gave her occasional access PILFERING. 109 to the cupboard, where these matters were deposited. And here I cannot help observing as an additional argu- ment against any little sly trick, the danger of an inno- cent person being injured by unjust suspicion. Who, for the poor momentary gratification of appetite, would run the hazard of throwing unjust suspicion on a poor servant who might thus lose the confidence of her em- ployers, and the situation in which she gains her liveli- hood ? A consultation was held between the teachers on the affair of the raspberry jam. A day or two afterwards Miss R. was seized with violent sickness. The anxie- ties of our kind governess were quickly excited, but al- most as quickly transferred from a physical to a moral disease, when the teachers informed her that they had mixed with the small remnant of raspberry jam a taste- less emetic powder. She then judiciously resolved on following up the punishment, and directed that the pa- tient should be put on the sick list, fed upon water-gruel, bread without butter, mutton broth, and other spare diet, and dosed with rhubarb and soda three times a day, the doses just powerful enough to be nauseous, without any possibility of being injurious. I think this discipline was carried on for a week ; and I believe the bitter me- dicine proved a cure for the sickly propensity after unal- lowed sweets.* About the time of my first going to school, two sisters came in ; they were great girls, and had been some years at a school which they considered of a much higher order than ours. I believe there was not that strict attention paid to order and discipline. These young * Some, perhaps, will doubt whether this punishment was alto- gether judicious. As the disease was principally moral, they would prefer to have had the remedy moral also. — Ed. 10 HO THE GIRL'S BOOK. ladies were high-spirited and clever, but they brought in many rebellious notions, declaring they would never submit to this or that rule of the establishment ; and in case of disobedience, threatened defiance against the infliction of punishment. I am sorry to say that they too far succeeded in infusing a spirit of insubordination and discontent among several of the younger ones, who be- fore had never felt any inclination, any more than they had occasion, to complain of oppression, injustice, or severity. It was long before their mischievous influence was wholly eradicated ; and it was, I doubt not, a source of great grief and trouble to our good governess. How- ever, when they found that the laws of the house were firm, and that rebellion only exposed themselves to pain and mortification, by degrees they settled down into compliance, and were just and honourable enough to acknowledge that they had reason for thankfulness in the restraints and discipline against which at first they so violently murmured. The fifth of November being a whole holiday, these girls had drawn two or three others into some grand scheme of mischief. I do not exactly know what it was ; and if I did, it might be better not to tell. However, it was found out, and three ringleaders were sentenced to spend the remainder of the holiday in their bed-room on a water-gruel diet. They made a farther attempt to break away from this penance, which was visited by a heavier punishment. I remember that those who that morning at breakfast time had been boasting of their noble contempt of school discipline, the next morning looked remarkably silly and crestfallen ; and they were not afterwards so fond of proposing their daring schemes, nor were others so readily drawn in to join them. CHAPTER Y I SCHOOL ANECDOTES CONTINUED. — A PARCEL FROM HOME. — A DAY OUT. — THE MANOR-HOUSE. — THE PARSONAGE. A HAPPY DEATH. — MR. AND MRS. H. DEATH OF MR. H. — CURING DISLIKES. — UNJUST SUSPICION. — THE FARM-HOUSE VISIT. — WANSTED. — SUPERSTITION. — DISAPPOINTMENT OVER- RULED. — ELECTIONEERING. — DEATH OF SCHOOL-FELLOWS. — BREAKING UP. — GOING HOME. Parents, in general, are ever desirous of promoting the gratification of their children, and during the absence of a child at school, I need not tell my young friends how common it is to devise some method of conveying pleasure to herself and her companions. Hence the frequent arrival of that cumbrous cargo of delight, a school parcel. ! the eager curiosity, the whispering and surmisings excited by the announcement, " There is a parcel come ! " " Who is it for 1 " " How large is it 1 " " What does it look like V "I think it is for me." "I am almost sure it is for me; for mamma promised to send me something about the middle of my quarter." " I have no doubt it is for me, for to-morrow 112 THE GIRL'S BOOK. is my birth-day." " How I do long to know !" These, and similar conjectures, sadly diverted the attention from school business, and the time of suspense seemed intol- erably long. I recollect more than one instance in which lessons were neglected, and disgrace incurred by the happy girl to whom the parcel belonged ; and thus her pleasure was damped and perhaps deferred through over- eagerness and haste to enjoy it. It were well, both in early and maturer life, to exercise habitual self-control and stead/ principle, which will give the first place to duty, and the second to pleasure. Self-denial is the price of real enjoyment. Well, whether the hours seemed leaden-footed or feather-footed, twelve o'clock was sure to come, neither retarded nor expedited by the arrival of the parcel ; and then, how anxiously was the door watch- ed, until the signal arrived, " Miss , you are wanted in the parlour ! " 0, with what joyful trepidation was the summons obeyed ! The same signal, of course, conveyed something like a feeling of disappointment to every other young expectant, soothed, however, by the hope, " Well, another day mine will come ; " or by the benevolent sympathy that can appropriate the joys of another. Then the unpacking of the parcel. How much impatience was sometimes felt, when our good, neat governess desired that the string should be untied, not cut and wasted, the paper folded up, and the hay cleared away without litter. The anxious affectionate eye darted first on the letter. What delight was im- parted by the assurance, that all was well at home, and the kind remembrances and inquiries of dear absent friends ! What sadness was generally mingled by the intelligence of the death or illness of some relative, neighbour, or companion ! — one, perhaps, who had been A PARCEL FROM HOME. 113 seen a few weeks back, in perfect health, or one with whom part of the next vacation was to have been spent. Scarcely ever has the joyful reception of a parcel been unmingled with some tears of regret ; so mixed and im- perfect are human pleasures, whether in childhood or in riper years. But in childhood, " the tear " is proverbially " forgot as soon as shed," and the infant mind eagerly reverts to its pleasures. And it icas a pleasure, which only a school girl can understand, to examine the varied contents of the parcel. Such fruits, so large, so ruddy, so sweet, and so mellow, as never grew, except " in our garden at home." Cakes, such as no mortal hands ever produced, except those of " our cook." Silks so rich and splendid, as never issued, except from " my father's looms ;" or pieces for patch-work, so various and beau- tiful as were sold only at " our shop." Then the dis- tribution was no small pleasure. To select the choicest fruit, and present to our beloved governess. To gather around us a select party, with whom to enjoy our banquet, and to impart a portion to every school-fellow, especially those who were friendless, and not likely to receive a similar gratification. I have heard it said that a school parcel tends to make children selfish. I do not think 80. Like every other circumstance, it more or less tends to bring out and display the character that alrea- dy exists ; but I am persuaded, that for one instance of miserly, selfish feeling, excited b the receipt of a parcel, a dozen feelings of gratitude, benevolence, and diffusive kindness were excited and gratified. I has been said that those in a school, who : eceive the richest and most frequent parcels, are most courted and respect- ed, while those who are friendless, or whose friends can- not afford thus to gratify them, are neglected and despised. 10* 114 THE GIRL'S BOOK. It may be so ; but I think much depends on the direc- tion insensibly given to the feelings by those who pre- side over young persons. Our beloved governess never seemed to interfere at all with the disposal of our little treasures, and yet such was the gentle force of her influ- ence and example, that acquisition, so far from engen- dering selfishness and envy, was generally subservient to the pure, benevolent pleasure of doing good, hoping for nothing again. If one received a better portion in the distribution of a treat, or was preferred by common consent to an indulgence of which all could not partake, it was sure to be the orphan, the foreigner, or one who remained at school during the vacation. It is through after years a matter of gratitude to have been in early life placed under the care of those who endeavoured to give the feelings a correct and benevolent bias, or rather to oppose the native bias and selfishness which, if suf- fered to prevail, is the fruitful source of mischief and misery in individuals, in families, and in societies. " A day out ! " 0, the ineffable pleasure of that indul- gence. Happy was the girl who could claim acquaint- ance with one or two families in the neighbourhood, judicious as well as hospitable and kind. I lay more stress on the former particular, than my young friends, perhaps, may consider quite necessary ; but it is from remembering some instances of injudicious kindness, which were very injurious to the pupils, and vexatious to the governess. I need scarcely allude to the degrading and vulgar indulgence of providing all sorts of delicacies, and tempting or encouraging young people to partake of them till they made themselves ill ; though such results have in many instances attended " a day out," and justly induced a resolution that the indulgence should not be A DAY OUT. 115 repeated. It was understood by our friends in general, that Wednesday was the most convenient day for going out, as it was a half-holiday, and on that day no masters attended. We were, of course, expected to return to school in time to prepare for the business of the next morning. But the friends of several of the girls invari- ably sent for them on some other day rather than Wed- nesday, with some special plea or excuse for the prefer- ence. The time of returning in the evening was also frequently transgressed, and the business of the ensuing day in consequence neglected. Perhaps even when the indulgence had been granted for a few hours, the tres- pass extended for a day or two, or the application was so often repeated, as to prove a serious interruption, rather than a salutary recreation. By these injudicious friends, some injurious remark was often insinuated, that it was a pity Mrs. P. was so over particular. " An hour or two, or one lesson now and then, could not be of so much consequence." I need not point out to my young friends the bad effects of such an observation, in unsettling the mind from regular duties and pursuits ; and in infusing a spirit of discontent, insubordination, and indifference to the value of instruction. Moreover, some of the girls, when they had been out for a day, in- variably returned with such a profuse supply of pocket- money, as was sure, in one way or other, to lead them into mischief. Hence it was a common saying among them, that a day of sorrow regularly succeeded a day of joy, and they submitted to the inconvenience with a kind of stoical indifference, as though it were a matter of ab- solute and necessary connexion ; forgetting that the sorrow was the natural result of the abuse of pleasure, and that they suffered from the consequences of their 116 THE GIRL'S BOOK. own criminal folly, not from some inevitable misfortune. It was well for those of us whose friends were at once kind and judicious, who felt pleasure in promoting our innocent gratification, but who taught us to respect the bounds of moderation and propriety, and inculcated on us the strictest deference to the wishes of our governess, and the rules of her establishment, as well as the impor- tance of so arranging our pleasures, as that they should not deprive us of any opportunity of improvement. Per- sons who accustom themselves to speak at random, have little idea of the different impressions and results pro- duced on the mind of a child, by the simple difference of a friend speaking of" losing" a lesson, or " escaping," or " getting off" or " being excused " a lesson. There were three families in the village, by whom I was kindly noticed on account of their respect for my dear parents. A visit about once a month delightfully diversified the half year's scene ; and such was the ten- dency of their conversation and conduct, that I do not think I ever returned from one of those visits, without a livelier sense of the veneration and gratitude due to my governess, and of the privileges I enjoyed, and the importance of diligently improving them. Each of these scenes possessed its characteristic source of grat- ification. At the manor-house I have spent many hours in a de- lightful conservatory, marking the progress of particular plants since my last visit, receiving of the gardener in- formation as to the peculiar properties of the more curi- rious, and the mode of culture of the more common plants, and looking over a collection of splendid horti- cultural books, prints, and drawings. I generally took home a cargo of cuttings, slips, and seeds, with which to T HE MANOR-HOUSE. 117 adorn my own little garden, and to gratify ray young friends. I must not omit to mention one of my grand- est treats, which served for admiring description and wondering appeal during the whole time of my continu- ance at school. I was sent for to witness the expanding of that splendid flower, the Cactus Grandiflora, or night- flowering cactus. As the flower was at that time very rare, nearly all the neighbouring gentry were assembled on the occasion. A splendid collation of choice fruits and other delicacies were laid out in the conservatory, where the company refreshed themselves, and from time to time visited the hothouse to watch the progress of the flower; between eight and nine o'clock it began to expand, and before twelve was in full perfection ; and at twelve o'clock and after, I and several other young ladies about my own age, could not admit that we felt the most dis- tant approach of weariness. However, it was consider- ed right that we should retire to rest ; and a promise was made, that whichever of us first visited the hothouse in the morning, should have the flower to take home. It fell to my lot to claim the fulfilment of the promise. I was in the hothouse soon after six ; but already the pe- tals were closing, and by the time I reached school, it needed much of the aid of description to convince my young friends how very beautiful it had been, and how well worth sitting up all night to see. I put it in water, fondly hoping that it might once more expand ; but no ; its glory was forever fled, and had left a touching me- morial of the short-lived nature of all human pleasure. Man and all his pleasures bloom but to fade. I have several times since seen a night-flowering cactus, but never one that appeared half so large and splendid as that in the days of my childhood. Indeed, I have learn- 118 THE GIRL'S BOOK. ed to admire the common white water lily, nearly, or quite as much ; and I have learned also to be very hap- py without either a fishpond or a conservatory, which in those days seemed almost indispensable ; and after which I have made many unsuccessful attempts on a small scale. Many an hour have I laboured hard in my fa- ther's garden, to dig a pond, and fill it from the pump ; but in spite of all my efforts, the water would sink to its own level. At last I resolved to content myself with a pond no larger than a pan. A cumbrous earthen pan was procured, lodged in the earth, filled, and planted round with periwinkles, and a young weeping willow; but alas ! it was not a living stream : in a few days the water became thick and foetid, and my parents ordered it to be thrown away. Thus ended my fishpond pro- jects ; and thus have many of my schemes passed away. Happy if they have in any degree taught me the salutary lesson, to be content with such things as I have. But there was another yet more interesting delight connected with my visits to the manor-house. I saw the rooms which the excellent Dr. Watts had frequent- ed ; and I sat under the shade of the same venerable tree under which he had exercised his pious meditations ; and I conversed with an aged housekeeper, who remembered him, and a smile would light her sunken eye, or a tear would gem her withered cheeks, and her toothless mouth would assume its articulative powers, when his name was mentioned. Yes. I have conversed with one who had conversed with Dr. Watts ; and I have listened to her tale, and sought the favourite walk she pointed out, and examined the tree, and reposed beneath its shade, with almost as great freshness of delight the twentieth time as the first. 0, there is in piety and excellence THE PARSONAGE. 119 the power to confer a kind of vitality and immortality on every object with which they are associated ! " The righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance." My pleasures at the house of the worthy minister, on whom my governess, and a considerable number of the pupils attended, were of a different kind. I generally went to breakfast, and afterwards was permitted to ac- company Mrs. or Miss W. while they superintended do- mestic arrangements in the kitchen. How true is the saying, " Change of work is as good as play !" I am sure the most diverting game that was ever invented could not have pleased me better than to be employed in chopping suet, peeling apples, beating up eggs, and watching the process of pie or pudding making ; or at washing-times, to take in the linen, and sprinkle or fold ; especially to be trusted with an iron, too cool either to scorch the linen or burn my hands. Do not, my dear young friends, despise the cultivation of domestic habits. I assure you I feel glad and thankful that, both at home and in visiting, the cultivation of such habits was asso- ciated with the idea of pleasure. It is as unnecessary as it is undesirable that young ladies should acquire vul- gar drudging habits, especially habits of improper kitchen familiarity ; yet there is an advantage which every young lady ought to possess, and of which future years will evince the value, in accompanying a mother or some judicious friend who conducts and superintends the sim- ple detail of domestic life, in order to acquire a know- ledge of its concerns. Do not suppose that the wife and daughter of the good minister spent much of their time in the kitchen : no ; by dint of early rising, indus- try, and good management, all their little daily arrange- 12° THE GIRL'S BOOK. ments were completed by the time an indolent fine lady would have found her way to the breakfast table. The next treat was to accompany Miss W. in her visit to the charity-school. How pleased was I, if not proud, when permitted to hear some of the girls their lessons, to fix their work, or to look over their sums ! It by no means spoiled the pleasure of my holiday, to re- collect that this was of the very same kind as my daily employments. During the heat of the day in summer, and in the evenings of winter, while the ladies sat at needle-work, I generally employed myself with Fox's Book of Martyrs, Harrison's Survey of London, or the British Traveller. Often has my infant spirit been melt- ed and fired at the simple touching details of the " Acts and Monuments," to which I reverted with never-tiring interest ; and again and again have I smiled at the often read traditionary tale, and the records of ancient customs with which the two latter works abound. I believe there is scarcely a list of the prices of provisions in the days of yore, but has furnished me with amusement in making out a bill of fare, and casting up the expenses of a Lord Mayor's feast in those days. Then inquiring the price, of the same articles in the present day, and contrasting the amount, I have often thought how immensely rich people must have been in those days ; how much they must have had to give to the poor, and how far a small sum would go in relieving the wants of the poor ; nor was I easily made to understand that the value of money is but relative, and that the value of land, labour, and other sources of income, was as low in proportion as the price of commodities. My young friends are most like- ly aware that when Windsor Castle was built, or rather GARMENTS FOR THE POOR. 121 rebuilt, in the reign of King Edward III., the wages of the workmen were but one penny, or three half-pence a day. In the same reign WicklifFe translated the Bible into English. His translation of the New Testament alone sold for two pounds sixteen shillings and eight pence, or six hundred and eighty pence.* Thus, it would have cost more than the entire labour of two years to procure it; and yet there were such instances of at- tachment to the word of life, as induced some persons in very humble life, to persevere in extreme labour and self-denial, till they obtained possession of a part of the sacred treasure. How highly favoured are we, who can obtain the precious volume from the little savings of a few weeks, and what a reproof to the carelessness and indifference of too many in the present day, who, when the Bible may be so easily obtained, scarcely ever take the trouble to look at it! But I was speaking of my visits to the parsonage house. Not unfrequently, the kind-hearted inmates were employed in contriving and making up garments for the poor, from the remnants of their own wardrobe, or from materials furnished them by wealthier members of the congregation. Though my little services were never required, they were always kindly accepted in the needle-work department, and I felt great pleasure in rendering them. In summer time, after taking tea early, the whole family generally took a walk, in which I was permitted to accompany them. In our way, we called on some of the families of the con- gregation ; sometimes taking one or more little bundles of clothing for the poor ; or flowers and fruit to those who had not a garden. The kind thoughtfulness of my friends, who delighted in acts of benevolence, and the * About fourteen dollars of American money. — Ed. 11 122 affectionate cordiality and respect with which they were welcomed, both by rich and poor, had a very happy in- fluence on my mind, in inducing me to think well of religion, and to listen with reverence to the instructions of the Sabbath. I shall never forget calling on a very aged gentleman, who for years before his death suffered excruciating pain. The perspiration rolled off his fore- head, and he was almost exhausted. He faintly said, " I have passed such a night and day of agony, as no- thing but the grace of God could have sustained me under." Then, as if correcting and rousing himself, he firmly added, " Now let my pains be all forgot, My heart no more repine ; My sufferings are not worth a thought, When, Lord, compared with thine." A few weeks afterwards he died. His funeral sermon was from the words, " Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 2 Cor. iv. 17. I wish I could convey to my young friends the very emphasis which ex- pressed the striking contrast of ideas throughout the passage. Perhaps they, like myself, have been privi- leged to witness the happiness of some suffering saint who realized their import. May it be their lot and mine, whatever may be our afflictions, to enjoy similar conso- lations ! I have said that on these benevolent excursions we sometimes carried to the cottages of the poor a bundle of baby linen, or other clothing. This was among my highest treats, being exceedingly fond of little children, and the mothers generally as well pleased at having their A YOUNG NURSE. 123 little ones admired. I cannot describe my delight, when a good woman said to me, " Take it, if you please miss." It was just what I longed for, but did not pre- sume to ask. " Are you not afraid to trust it with so young a nurse V? asked Mrs. W. " dear, no, ma'am ! my little girl, that is not near so big as miss, nurses it for hours together." I think no Lord Chancellor ever received his seals of office with stronger feelings of ele- vation and responsibility than played in my little bosom when I was permitted to hold in my arms a real, live baby, and to try on its little soft head the cap I had just made for it. I felt myself almost as great a personage as Miriam, who was set to watch her little brother Mo- ses, and only regretted that I had no younger brother or sister to nurse. Since that time I have had plenty of nursing, but I have never lost my relish for it. On re- turning from these walks, a piece of pie generally stood ready for my supper, and after family prayers I was sent home with great care and punctuality not to exceed the appointed time. I mentioned another house at which I frequently vi- sited. It belonged to a retired old gentleman, who had formerly been a great bookseller in London. It was a large house occupied only by himself and lady, witft four, servants, nearly as old as themselves, and one younger, to wait upon the rest, and to attend upon several cats, a parrot, a superannuated dog, and a large family of rab- bits, pigeons, and other poultry. I generally visited them all round, and came away enriched with the fea- thers of peacocks, pheasants, and guinea-fowls, for fancy work. Many of the rooms were scarcely ever entered, except to be cleaned ; but in the confidence that I should not mischievously touch any thing, I was permitted to 124 THE GIRL'S BOOK. take my range, and found abundant amusement in the vast variety of old fashioned articles of furniture, orna- ments, and other curiosities ; especially in a noble li- brary, where I was often permitted to inspect valuable books and prints ; and a lumber room, where were many books, chiefly for children, which remained of Mr. H.'s stock in trade. I suppose he kept them on purpose to gratify any children who might visit him. There I was permitted to range at pleasure, and often was presented with a book in which I was particularly interested. One was called " The Six Princesses of Babylon." In an ingenious allegory, the writer displays the value and im- portance of certain moral qualities, especially to the fe- male character ; the difficulty of attaining them is repre- sented under the idea of climbing steep rocks, conquer- ing formidable enemies, opening difficult locks, and other figures. The danger of mistaking specious resem- blances for the real good quality, and the snares and temptations to deviate from a consistent course, are all pleasingly set forth in the manner of a fairy tale, but without its absurdities, as well as the high satisfaction attendant on conquering bad habits, and cultivating such as are good. If I recollect right, the articles after which these six young ladies went in search, were, the Distaff of Industry, the River of Goodnature, the Spear of Truth, the Mantle of Meekness, the Magnet of true Ge- nerosity, and the Wand of Contentment. The nearest resemblance I have seen to this interesting little book, is " Order and Disorder," in Evenings at Home. I wish I could meet with a copy even now : I doubt not, I should read it with interest and improvement. Perhaps my young friends will supply the deficiency by reflecting on the value of those qualities, and on the best means to DEATH OP MR. H. 125 promote them, and something will then be done towards rendering their character amiable and estimable. My venerated friend Mr. H. possessed an elegant and highly cultivated mind, and was peculiarly gentle and condescending in his manners. When his health per- mitted, he kindly encouraged me to converse with him, or to read aloud to him ; when he obviated any difficulty, and pointed out to me the beauties and defects of many of our best classics and poets. I read with him the whole of Cowper's Poems, and understood and relished them much better than I could have done by reading them alone. His instructions were very valuable to me, and even now his memory is associated with many de- lightful passages. Before we parted, Mr. H. always desired me to repeat to him Dr. Watt's 119th Psalm, 11th part, " that the Lord would guide my ways." The last time I visited him, — little thinking that it would be the last, — his cough was more than usually distressing, his voice hollow and feeble, his eyes sunken, and his cheek flushed ; but he was seated as usual in his great chair, and his countenance expressed its usual placidity and benevolence. " Come, my child," said he, " what shall we read to-day ] My strength is sinking fast, I feel I shall not hear you read many times more." At his desire, I read the closing part of Cowper's poem on " Truth." " All joy to the believer! He can speak, Trembling, yet happy, confident, yet meek — Since the dear hour that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root, I never trusted in an arm but thine, Nor hoped, but in thy righteousness divine. My prayers and alms, imperfect and defil'd, Were but the feeble efforts of a child : 11* 126 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Howe'er performed, it was their brightest part, That they proceeded from a grateful heart : Cleans'd in thine own all purifying blood, Forgive their evil, and accept their good. I cast them at my feet : my only plea Is what it was — dependence upon thee, While struggling in the vale of tears below, That never fail'd, nor shall it fail me now. Angelic gratulations rend the skies, Pride falls unpitied, never more to rise, Humility is crown'd, and Faith receives the prize." As I read these beautiful lines, my venerable friend several times interposed " Ah!" in such a way as indi- cated that the feelings of his own mind were in harmony with the sentiments of the poet. Before I left him in the evening, he bade me read the 103d Psalm ; and af- ter repeating the 119th, (which was never omitted,) I took leave of my friend to see him no more. A day or two afterwards, my governess sent for me into the par- lour, and with deep solemnity of manner, said to me, " My dear child, I am glad you spent Wednesday last with your good friend Mr. H. — He is now no more on earth. Re has passed gently into eternity. There is no doubt but he sleeps in Jesus. You and I must die, we do not know how soon. ' May we die the death of the righteous, and may our last end be like his !' " A few days afterwards, my dear father came down to attend the funeral of his friend. The occasion of his visit chasten- ed the pleasure I felt in seeing him ; but the thought of our friend's happiness gave us to experience something like "the joy of grief." On the following Lord's day I saw the pulpit and the gallery hung with black, and Mrs. H. and all the servants in deep mourning ; and all shed MRS. H. 127 many tears while the minister preached from the words, " To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain." Phil. i. 21. He closed with the wish, " May we all live the life of the righteous, and then our last end will be like his !" The solemnity of the scene made some impression on my mind ; and I formed some resolutions and desires. But alas ! I did not feel my own sinfulness and weak- ness ; and therefore, I failed earnestly to implore forgiv- ing mercy and cleansing grace. Without these, my dear young friends, our good resolutions will fall to the ground, and our religious impressions be but like writing on the sand, which the first wave washes away. On the Monday, my father called on Mrs. H. and took me with him. She received us kindly, and promised still to be kind to me, and so she was. I continued to visit her as frequently as before, and received many fa- vours at her hands. Under somewhat of roughness and sternness of manners, she exercised much real kindness of heart ; but the house was never to me what it had been in the time of my lamented friend. Mrs. H. was not at all of a turn for reading. I never dared mention a book to her ; but when I asked permission to go into the li- brary, she generally answered, " Yes, go child, if you will; but don't mope yourself to death with books." She was a lofty lady, and required the servants to be very ex- act in their homage to her. Even the parrot, if it failed when she entered the breakfast parlour, to say, " Good morning madam, I hope you'r well," was banished in disgrace for the whole day. She was very curious in the arts of confectionary, pickling, preserving, and distilling. These were performed by the servants under her imme- diate direction. A heavy antique arm-chair, with cas- tors, stood in the hall, which was wheeled to the kitchefc, 128 THE GIRL'S BOOK. the still-room, or wherever else these matters were going on, and there she sat and inspected them ; and oh, how she stormed if the least thing was amiss ! I have seen the servants tremble, and trembled myself. She would then turn round and say, " Don't be frightened, child : I did not scold you;" then she would seem to be in a good humour with every body, till some little fresh dis- aster arose, and produced another of those cataracts and breaks Which humour, interposed, too often makes." These operations completed, she walked, or if the wea- ther was wet, was drawn in a covered chair, round the grounds till dinner time, and gave directions to the gardener who attended her. In the afternoon she employed herself in making rich pillow lace ; and, in the evening, in knitting her own stockings, and those of her husband during his life-time. She said she had never in her life worn a stock- ing that she had not knit. Her mother, though a very rich and grand lady, insisted that all her children, both boys and girls, should learn to knit before they were allowed to wear stockings. Their first attempts, of course, were roughly executed, and with common materials, worsted, or lamb's-wool ; but as they advanced in the art, they were at liberty to have silk, if they chose, provided that they knit them themselves ; or the girls, those of their brothers. I think this rule was carried much too far ; however, the art of knitting is very useful either to girls or boys. It is a good thing to get a habit of moving the fingers nimbly, and of filling up all the little odds and ends of time with something useful. Besides, knitting is a pleasant employment for aged or dim-sighted per- sons. I know some who have accustomed themselves MRS. H. 129 to knit with their eyes shut, that they might be able to do it with equal ease if ever they should become blind. Mrs. H., as I have said, was somewhat stern and re- pulsive in her manners ; I believe she always meant kindly and correctly in opposing a real or supposed evil ; but she had not the gentle arts of persuasion and argu- ment which rendered my governess so amiable and suc- cessful. She had no children of her own ; and having been brought up on a Spartan sort of system, she could exercise but little sympathy or toleration for the predilec- tions of children. She maintained that no child ought to be suffered to have a dislike for any thing of an eatable kind. When dining there, I was generally allowed to partake of what dishes I chose ; but Mrs. H. having ob- served that I never chose boiled mutton, asked me if I did not like it ? I said I did not like it much. When the desert was brought on, she pressed me to eat a fig ; hav- ing tasted it, I exceedingly disliked it, and left it. These two articles of diet were, I believe, the only two against which I ever had, or fancied I had, any dislike ; and the former was not very strong. " Now, child," said Mrs. H., "I shall cure you of this nonsense, depend upon it. Whenever you dine here, you shall have nothing but boiled mutton for dinner ; and as to figs, if you do not eat one this afternoon, you shall have no basket of fruit to take home for your school- fellows." This was generally a very pleasing adjunct to my holiday at Mrs. H.'s ; a large basket of fruit, which enabled me to treat the whole school one day, and a select party a second. I therefore resolved on a bold effort to secure my accustomed pri- vilege, and constrained myself to swallow a fig, sorely against my will. I carried my basket of fruit through this effort, but the fig made me exceedingly ill. This, how- 130 THE GIRL'S BOOK. ever, Mrs. H. insisted, was because I set myself against it, and she resolved to make another trial : accordingly, I was sent for again the next week. I made an excellent dinner of boiled mutton, and was convinced that my dis- like was nothing more than fancy. By the second experi- ment in fig-swallowing, Mrs. H. also was convinced that my dislike was real, and that the effects of compulsion might be really injurious. Fortunately for me, a medi- cal gentleman was that day visiting Mrs. A. who kindly pleaded my cause, and gained for me a dispensation from all farther requirements in that way. On one of my visits there, having obtained permission to visit the library, I observed a large pane of glass bro- ken in one of the windows. When the servant called me to tea, she also observed it, and informed her mis- tress. Mrs. H. asked me if I had broken it. I said I had not. She pressed me to own it, saying she could forgive an accident, however careless, but she could not forgive a falsehood. I wondered at her uttering such a suspicion ; for it was one of my good governess's excel- lent rules, to suppose every one incapable of falsehood, until evidence to the contrary painfully forced itself on her mind. However, I assuredMrs. H. that I observed the broken window almost as soon as I entered the room; and then thought little more about the matter : it never oc- curred to me that she continued to doubt my word. When the time came that I expected to be sent for again, my ear was alert for every ring at the bell, and my eye continually cast towards the opening door ; but no message from Mrs. H, arrived. The following Wednesday I watched again with renewed eagerness, and feared that Mrs. H. must be unwell ; but on the Sunday, I saw her in her pew as usual. " Perhaps she had company, and it was in- THE BROKEN WINDOW. 131 convenient ; she will, no doubt, send next Wednesday." Thus one " perhaps " after another beguiled me through three long months, and I had begun to realize the wise man's assertion, that " hope deferred maketh the' heart sick." I had almost ceased to listen to the bell, or look towards the door, least of all should I think of listening or looking on any day except Wednesday ; but lo ! one Monday morning came the long-suspended invitation for me to spend the day with Mrs. H. ; the usual request bearing this mysterious appendage : " Mrs. H. would be particularly obliged if Mrs. P. would spare Miss to-day, as she has something very particular to say to her." Whether Molly did not know, or was directed not to say any thing farther, no information was elicited on the way. Instead of the merry bound, and the lively chatter, that generally gave vent to the childish joy of the moment, the way was passed in solemn silence and wondering conjecture. The moment I was introduced to the parlour, Mrs. H. pushed aside her lace pillow, and kissing me with unusual kindness, hastily said, " Child, I have wronged you, and I am sorry for it. I have not had you here for thirteen weeks and five days. I am sorry I've wronged you ; but I thought you had told me a lie, and I could not abide a liar. You did not break the window ; you said you did not, and it was true enough. I am sorry I wronged you, but I must try to make you amends." As to the " making amends," I did not un- derstand that : — a Queen Anne's guinea, and sundry old fashioned and costly curiosities, heaped on me that day of reconciliation, seemed no ways connected with the surmise that had injured my character. The arrange- ment, that in future I must dine there once a fortnight, instead of once a month, was more satisfactory, because 132 THE GIRL'S BOOK. it was a proof to my school-fellows that I had not forfeit- ed the favour of my friend : but my greatest satisfaction was, in rinding that the window, having been repaired, was again found broken that morning, and that it was proved to have been done by an outside blind, the fasten- ing of which having given way, the wind had blown it against the glass. " And I wish, with all my heart," said Mrs. H., " that the wind had set that way before, then I should not have wronged you for such a length of time." I was immediately reinstated in full possession of ac- customed and extended confidence and privileges. Once in each half year we had a general holiday. In the beginning of June, the whole school was invited, by the parents of two of our companions, to spend a day at their farm-house, about three miles off. There we were gratified with a sight of sheep-shearing, hay-making, or other rural scenes : we feasted on strawberries and cream, new milk from the cow, and hot cakes, baked on the hearth. We decked each other with fanciful wreaths of real flowers, and chased each other round the great oak tree on the green. At night, we were sent home in a large covered cart, delighted with the kind hospitality we had enjoyed, and agreeing, nem. con. that notwithstand- ing the crowding and jolting of our journey home, it was far pleasanter than being full dressed, and going in a cha- riot to a set ball. Those who knew any thing of the gay scenes of pleasure in high life, assured us that it was so ; and most of us who knew nothing higher than a rural holiday, took it upon trust. Our other general holiday was in August or Septem- ber, when we visited the parents of one of our young ladies at Wansted House, in Essex. On this grand occasion two coaches were engaged for the day ; and SUPERSTITION. 133 by pretty close packing, the whole school was crammed into them. The morning was spent in viewing the house and grounds ; then we dined on the lawn, and in the afternoon, rambled in the woods, and gathered nuts. Meanwhile a kettle was boiled under a hedge, where we were all required to rendezvous at six o'clock, and take a hasty tea ; by which time the carriages met to convey us home. I was at school three times on this grand occasion : the first time I was very highly delighted with the holiday ; the second time it did not quite reach my anticipations ; the third I was well pleased to stay with dear Mrs. Pierson, who did not feel equal to the exer- tion of going. Once, when the day was fixed, and the carriages were engaged, the morning was very rainy, and the holiday was necessarily postponed. I remem- ber being awoke that morning very early with a strange monotonous singing. One of the girls, her heart intent on promised pleasure, had awoke still earlier ; and hear- ing the pattering of rain against the window, called her companions, I think there were seven or eight, who slept in the same room, and begged them to join her in singing "Rain, rain, go away, Come again another day," assuring them that if they persevered in singing it, I can't tell how many hundred times, without stopping, the rain would be sure to cease. Accordingly they set to work ; but before the number was completed, or their lungs quite exhausted, the noise disturbed our governess, who rang her bell, put a hasty stop to the superstitious music, and directed the servant to countermand the coaches. 12 134 THE GIRL'S BOOK, At breakfast-time our governess spoke kindly to us, sympathizing in our disappointment, but pointing out the duty and wisdom of cheerfully accommodating ourselves to unavoidable circumstances, and especially the folly and sinfulness of imagining that they can be altered by any superstitious charm or spell. I am sorry to say that some of the girls, who I suppose at home had been un- der the influence of ignorant and superstitious nurses, brought many of these silly notions and customs into the school, and that too many were credulous enough to re- ceive them. There was scarcely one girl but was more or less tainted with the nonsense, which grew to such a height that scarcely an animal could move or rest, or an inanimate thing be placed this way or that, but it was interpreted into some sign of good or ill luck, success or defeat in the class, peace or strife among companions, good or bad news from home. Thus the mind was per- plexed with imaginary terrors, or elated with false confi- dence, and taken off from the proper and rational means of seeking success and comfort by diligence and atten- tion to duty, and by humble prayer to God, who disposes all events, both great and small. I am ashamed so fre- quently to speak of myself, but those things make the deepest impression which concern ourselves ; and, if by communicating my follies, my young friends should be taught to avoid similar errors, false shame ought not to make me suppress them. A great girl, who was the general oracle and interpre- ter of dreams, signs, and omens, and who displayed no small share of cunning, in profitting by the credulity of her clients, once said to me, " How often you are in trouble about stooping your head ! I would not be so, long, if I were you. I know of something that would SUPERSTITION. 135 soon cure you." I eagerly pressed for her secret, and offered any reward in my power if it should prove suc- cessful. She toid me it was a small coin with a hole through it, which must be constantly worn round the neck. I ventured to doubt the efficacy of the charm ; she resented my incredulity, and declared she would not even let me see it if I would give her all I had in the world. Not many days elapsed, before I was again blamed for my old fault. She then affected to relent, and offered me the invaluable coin for the small sum of one shilling, and a curious little box, in the form of a horse-chesnut, which had been given me by my friend, Mrs. H. I grieved to part with my box, but she would accept nothing less ; and said that I could not sincerely wish to break myself of a bad habit, if I was unwilling to part with such a trifle for it. At length I complied, and solemnly promised not to tell Mrs. P. of the trans- action. Silly child ! might I not have been sure that the transaction must be wrong, if it required concealment from so kind a friend I However, the price was paid, and the mysterious coin brought forth. It was about the size of a farthing, and had on it the words " Stad Utrecht," which my wily conjurer informed me was the Latin for " Stand upright."* She muttered some words, and sus- pended it on my neck by a bit of blue riband, which she said was the most successful colour, and which, by the way, she procured for me at about three times the regular price. I confess I had some misgivings of conscience as to the means I had adopted, and felt a sort of undefined terror lest some calamity should befal me for venturing * The English farthing is a small copper coin, about the size of our half-cent. — Ed. 136 THE GIRL'S BOOK. to use a charm. I did not like to be alone, especially in the dark ; so nearly connected are false confidences and false terrors, and so surely is fear the attendant upon guilt. In a few days these feelings, in a measure, wore off, and all my care and pains to hold my head upright wore off too. Of course I left that entirely to the ope- ration of the charm. One day, as I sat at my embroid- ery, Mrs. P. said to me, " My dear child, hold up your head ; you certainly stoop more than ever. I must put the frame quite away if you cannot learn to sit upright. Come hither, child ; I think your dress must hurt you." Not a moment was afforded me for hiding my precious locket. Mrs. P. soon discovered it, and a green mark which it had left on my neck, and which had become quite sore. Mrs. P. insisted on knowing what this meant. I shrunk from telling her, partly for my word's sake, and partly from fear of the girl who had gained such an ascendency over me. Mrs. P. then turning to the young ladies in general, asked if any of them knew any thing about the matter. It happened that one of them did know; she came forward, and disclosed the whole affair. Mrs. P. blamed my childish credulity, assured me that the coin was nothing more than a Dutch farthing, and made me look in the Gazetteer, and on the map, for Stad Utrecht, which I found to be one of the states of Holland. She said my folly had sufficiently punished itself, and she hoped that in future I should never seek the cure of a bad habit but by moral means, or the cure of a grievance but by patience, resignation, and prayer. I got many a laugh from my companions about my stand-upright medal, and I confess I richly deserved them. As for Miss D., who had made me her dupe, she was immediately restricted from all intercourse FOLLY PUNISHED. 137 with the young ladies for the few remaining weeks of the half-year, and after the holidays she returned no more. Among our boarders was a little girl named Mary Ann S. She was an only child ; her father lived in the vil- lage, but at a very early age she was placed as boarder with Mrs. P., on account of the declining state of her mother's health. After two years' illness, Mrs. S. died. On this melancholy occasion, much sympathy and good feeling were discovered by the girls in general towards Mary Ann. Every one tried some little kind contri- vance to soothe her infant sorrow, and each begged to assist in making up her mourning. The widowed parent naturally felt pleased at these little attentions to his child, and a few months afterwards invited all the young ladies to spend a day at his house, in honour of Mary Ann's birth-day. Our governess kindly granted a whole holiday for the purpose, on con- dition of our bringing up our work the day previous. Much diligence was exercised in this preparation, and much pleasure indulged in anticipation of the day. Mary Ann was at home the Saturday before, and brought glowing accounts of the extensive orders that were issued for cakes, fruits, and pastry of all descrip- tions ; that a new magic lantern w T as sent for from Lon- don to be exhibited in Mr. S.'s study, and that many other fine things were in preparation. I do not recol- lect ever hearing so much talk in prospect of a holiday, and I certainly never felt so strongly excited about one myself, especially on account of the magic lantern, which I had never seen ; but disappointment awaited me. The day before the festivities, Mr. S. called to say that one of his servants had been taken ill with the small-pox. 12* 138 THE GIRL'S BOOK. She was then immediately removed from the house, and every necessary precaution had been taken to prevent the disease spreading. However, he thought it right to name the matter, in case any of the young ladies had not had the disease. There was only one who could not produce a scar, either on her face or her arm, in token of her security, and that one was myself. My dear pa- rents had lost five children by small-pox, but never could consent to have one inoculated. Shortly after this, vac- cination was introduced, and I became a sharer in its benefits. However, the circumstance deprived me of the anticipated pleasure of keeping Mary Ann's birth-day. My kind governess made the disappointment as light as possible, by permitting me to spend the day with her, allowing me to select what books I chose for my amuse- ment, and to examine her whole cabinet of curiosities, from which she selected and presented to me a curious old fashioned needle-case, which I to this day retain as a keep-sake. It is of ivory, beautifully carved, and lined with crimson foil, and contains, in separate divisions, an ivory thimble, a bodkin, a silk reel, and a yard measure. The day passed very happily, and Mrs. P. proposed, af- ter tea, to take a walk and call on Mr. and Mrs. W. and Mrs. H. ; but as we sat at tea a thunder storm came on, which defeated our intentions, and which we feared would inflict a still heavier disappointment on the merry party. Mr. S., however, kindly provided that the circumstance, instead of utterly disappointing them, should be over- ruled for extending the pleasure to me. He came in ? (his house was but a few doors from the school,) and re- quested permission to exhibit his magic lantern in Mrs. P.'s parlour, and to illuminate her school-room for the evening treat. When these arrangements were com- DISAPPOINTMENT OVER-RULED. 139 pleted, the young ladies were brought home in a carriage. We all spent a merry evening, and I had a double holi- day with only half the fatigue. Mr. S. afterwards pre- sented the lantern and lamps to the school. The former afforded us much pleasing recreation, and the latter ser- ved to illuminate the school on breaking-up days, and other grand occasions. I cannot forbear observing that, in maturer life, I have often experienced that my greatest advantages have resulted from circumstances which, at the time, seemed to involve the disappointment of my fondest wishes and hopes. My young friends will pro- bably, at some future day, make a similar observation. Meanwhile, I would recommend them to bear with firm- ness and composure the little disappointments of child- hood, as a preparative for the severer trials that await them in maturer life. The father of one of our young ladies was elected member of parliament, after a sharp contest. Each day he sent his little girl a newspaper, announcing the state of the poll, and at the close, an immensely large cake, and a profusion of delicacies of all kinds for a feast to ce- lebrate his election, with ribands for all the young ladies to wear. There was not much pleasure in that holiday ; several quarrels took place in the course of the day, as the friends of some of the young ladies had espoused op- posite parties, and those who happened to know which way their friends inclined, felt themselves bound to sup- port the cause of that party ; though, in fact, they under- stood nothing about either party, and it was a great pity to excite a party spirit in children, whose minds and feel- ings might be injured about they knew not what. I re- collect Mrs. P. seemed unusually desirous of getting the repast cleared away, the ribands put out of sight, and 140 THE GIRL'S BOOK. the young people returned to their quiet duties and sim- ple pleasures. Well, I think I have now pretty nearly exhausted my school budget : it remains only to give a few particulars about breaking-up day. No, I recall myself, there is one circumstance which I must not omit, because it is a subject that ought to be brought before my dear young friends, and may, I trust, make salutary impressions on their minds. During the period of my being at school, two of my young companions were called away by death. One of them was a slender, delicate girl, generally in feeble health, and a constant object of the vigilant and tender solicitude of our kind governess, who never suffered her to be exposed to damp or evening air. The other was a lively, robust girl, the very picture of health and vivacity. For her age, she was the farthest advanced in French and Italian : her English compositions were spirited, her drawings tasteful and correct, her musical attainments considerable, her needle-work productions distinguished for ingenuity, neatness, and expedition. In a word, whatever she undertook, she was the leading girl of the school. The lead was assigned her both in work and play; withal she was so good-natured and unassuming, that her superiority excited no jealousy. Laura F. was a universal favourite. At the close of the Christmas vacation, Laura returned to school in bounding health and spirits, full of the pleasures she had enjoyed at home, and of ingenious devices for promoting the in- nocent pleasures of school. Nothing escaped her obser- vation ; and whatever she had once seen, she was gene- rally successful in imitating. Hence she was continu- ally introducing some new variety in our fancy works and other recreations. On the day of returning to DEATH OP SCHOOL-FELLOWS. 141 school, our governess met and conducted the pupils from London and its vicinity. Amidst the bustle of greeting after five weeks' absence, the sorrow of parting with friends, and the prospect of school duties and plea- sures, it was not immediately observed that Ellen W. was missing ; but our dear governess appeared unusually pensive and anxious, and in the first moment of quiet- ness, she informed us that Ellen was not to return to school this quarter. In the early part of the holidays she had been, day after day, attending Christmas parties, and by exposure to night air, after leaving close and crowded rooms, she had taken a severe cold, by which she was still confined, and was, by the direction of her physicians, to be kept entirely to one room until the re- turn of settled mild weather. " I hope, ma'am," said Laura, " that it is nothing more than an attack of her usual cough. You know, ma'am, how apt she is to take cold in keen or damp weather." " Yes, my dear, it is an attack of her usual cough ; but I fear a far more serious attack than she has before experienced. Her parents will not admit such a thought themselves, nor suffer the most distant hint to be thrown out in her presence ; yet I cannot help apprehending that disease is too firmly rooted in her frame to be easily dis- lodged, and such I believe is the opinion of the medical gentlemen who attend her." " 0, dear, ma'am," observed Laura, " then you think she will die 1 how much better it would be that both Ellen and her parents should be aware of the truth ! It is such a very solemn thing to die ; and if death were to come without being prepared for it, how very dreadful !" " How important is it, my dear children," replied Mrs. P., "that every day of our lives we should be thinking about death, and preparing for it ! We do not know how 142 THE GIRL'S BOOK, near death may be to any one of us ; and those persons alone are truly happy, and live in the real enjoyment of life, who possess a humble consciousness that they can welcome death whenever it may come. How may this consciousness be attained ]" Laura's fine dark eyes glistened through a tear, while she replied, " Mr. W. said, when he preached that fune- ral sermon to Mr. H., those alone who can say, 'To me to live is Christ,' have the privilege of adding, ' and to die is gain.' " " Do you recollect how Mr. W. explained the phrase, * to live is Christ?'" Laura. " I think it was something like this : — " To live in entire dependance on Christ for pardon, grace, and strength. " To live in delightful intercourse with Christ by faith, prayer, and meditation. " To live in entire consecration of heart, life, and pos- sessions, to the service of Christ." Governess. " I am glad to find that these sentiments remain in your memory. May Divine grace imprint them on your heart, and exemplify them in your life ; then, whether death comes earlier or later, to you it will be gain ! Poor Ellen's case is an affecting proof of the importance of improving the time of health in thinking about and preparing for death and eternity. How many flatter themselves that they shall have a long illness, and plenty of time to prepare for death! Perhaps they may be suddenly cut off; or perhaps they may be flattered by mistaken friends, from day to day, that they are get- ting better, and returning to life, when, in fact, they are hastening to the grave. I trust the truth may be per- mitted to reach poor Ellen's ears before it be too late." It may be readily supposed that these circumstances DEATH OF SCHOOL-FELLOWS. 143 and sentiments cast over us a shade of solemnity during the remainder of the journey, and that afterwards, fre- quent inquiries were made concerning the health of our young companion. When any friends of our governess were going to Lon- don, she requested them to call on Ellen's parents, and make particular inquiry. Several times her parents wrote, and once Ellen wrote herself. Mrs. W. always said that her daughter was getting better, but that the sharp winds kept her back, or that a change of medicine made her appear not quite so well ; and Ellen herself assured us that she was almost well, excepting her cough ; but she observed, she often used to have a cough when at school, and that she considered nothing. She thought she should be quite well when the weather be- came mild, and she was allowed to get out in the air ; and she hoped to return to school after the Easter holi- days. Some of us were much pleased to receive so good an account ; but our governess, who knew much more of the nature of her disease and its flattering symp- toms, seemed rather dejected than elated with the ac- count. Not many days elapsed before another letter came from Ellen's father, intimating that his daughter had become rapidly worse, and expressed a great desire to see her governess, whom he entreated, if possible, to comply with her request. Mrs. P. accordingly went up by the very next coach. She was gone two days, and returned late at night, after we were gone to bed. Some, who happened to hear the ring, opened their chamber- door and listened, but they could not make out what re- port was brought. But next morning, when we went into Mrs. P's room to family prayer, we observed that she looked very much dejected, and wore a black bow in her cap. With great feeling she read to us the four- 144 THE GIRL'S BOOK. teenth chapter of the Book of Job, and at the close of prayer, informed us of the fact, which we already strong- ly surmised, that our companion was no more. When Mrs. P. reached the house, she found her fast sinking : she appeared to know her, and pressed her hand, but was unable to speak, and in a few hours she expired. Many tears were shed, and much solemnity of feeling was ex- cited. I hope it did not all pass away like " the early cloud and the morning dew." The following Lord's day evening, our governess read to us a sermon from the words, " So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." Ps. xc. 12. We sung Dr. Watts's thirty-ninth Psalm, " Teach me the measure of my days," and the nineteenth Psalm, " Lord, what a feeble piece." Now we had heard that sermon read before, and we had often sung those Psalms before, but they seemed invested with a solem- nity and emphasis entirely new, when connected with the death of our school-fellow ; and so did those expressions in prayer, which I fear had often glided over our ears without making any impression on our thoughtless hearts. " And now, Lord, what wait we for 1 our hope is in thee. Let there be no enemy to God under this roof; — none worshipping here now that shall be wanting in the gene- ral assembly and church of the first-born above." Not many weeks elapsed before the solemn warning was repeated to us, and brought still nearer home. The lovely, blooming, healthy, Laura F. was taken from us almost at a stroke. As she sat at her drawing-desk, she became suddenly ill, and fainted away. She was remo- ved into the parlour, and a medical gentleman sent for. He directed that she should be immediately put to bed, in a room quite detached from the rest of the young la- DEATH OF SCHOOL-FELLOWS. 145 dies, as he apprehended an attack of infectious disease. Not one of us was permitted to see her, and our anxious inquiries met most discouraging replies. Her parents came down to see her, and two physicians from London, but in vain ; in about a week, the beautiful and beloved Laura was numbered with the dead ! And now, my dear young friends, need I attempt to describe the feelings of survivors? will they not have found a counterpart in your own bosoms on similar occasions ? We felt much of childish sympathy with our companion, when we heard of the sufferings she endured in violent pains of the head, and in the application of blisters and other painful or nau- seous remedies : and we felt much of childish eagerness in watching the arrival of nurses, and friends, and doctors, and much of childish hope and fear as to the success or the failure of their endeavours ; and much of childish grief when informed that our beloved companion would visit us no more ; and much of childish curiosity to obtain a peep at the gray coffin, and its silvered ornaments, that was to contain her breathless remains, and of the white- plumed hearse that was to bear them away, and of the mourning dresses of parents and relatives ; and much of tender association in the little relics which were distribu- ted as keep-sakes among her favourite friends — the un- finished drawing, the outline map, the embroidery sketch, the muslin work, the urn-rug, and the artificial nosegay, which had so lately engaged her busy fingers, and dis- played her ingenuity and taste. But there was one sub- ject that excited a deeper interest than all the rest. — What had become of the never-dying spirits of our com- panions 1 Had they met together in the world of endless bliss ] or were they forever separated ? and we remem- bered with regret any instance of levity or dislike to holy 13 146 THE GIRL 7 S BOOK, things, any disposition to put off the thoughts of death, and cling to the hope of life ; and the silence of our gov- erness seemed invested with an awful gloom. On the other hand, we fondly cherished the recollection of any indication of a love to secret prayer, of regard to the pious instructions of our governess or our minister, of a con- scientious avoiding of evil, even in those things which were out of general observation, and which once were lightly thought of. We listened with eager delight to the testimony of our governess, that for the last year or more she had observed such a change in the conduct and con- versation, even of one who was always correct and amia- ble, in her outward deportment, as led her to hope that a root of vital piety was implanted within ; and we heard, with intense interest, that the utterance of every con- scious interval from the pain or delirium of disease, was an expression of penitence and hope, clinging to the pro- mises of mercy given by Him who is able and willing to save to the uttermost. And did not these feelings and anxieties as to the pre- vious character, and the eternal state of our companions, clearly indicate what manner of persons we ought our- selves to be, and what course we ought to pursue, if we desired to enjoy comfort in the prospect of death, and to leave comfortable recollections and reflections on the minds of surviving friends'? And are not the same sen- timents conveyed with equal force, my dear young friends, to you ? I turn from the scenes of mortality to those of joy — for breaking-up day, and going-home day, were days of pleasure and exultation, though not of that noisy, boister- ous, unmeaning, and mischievous mirth, by which they are characterized in some schools. I have heard young BREAKING-UP. 147 ladies boast, that the happiness of breaking-np day con- sists in being allowed to do as much mischief as they please ; and that the phrase " breaking-up," is not con- fined to the temporary dissolution of the society, but ap- plies equally to forms, desks, tables, and books. I am happy to say I never witnessed such scenes. Breaking-up day was at our own disposal, until even- ing. We rose as early as we pleased ; and I smile to recollect, that some who habitually thought it a hardship to rise at six o'clock in summer, and seven in winter, were most forward in claiming their privilege to rise at three or four, if they chose. To make a little distinction from ordinary days, we had hot rolls for breakfast, and tea or coffee instead of milk and water, and we were dis- charged from all rertrictions as to conversing in French or English. As our governess and teachers were busy preparing for the evening, it was a point of emulation among the elder girls to employ themselves, and invent amusements for keeping the little girls quiet. This was sure to gain the approving thanks of Mrs. P. when she came to summon us to the engao-ements of the evening. We were expected on that day to collect together all our writing and cyphering books, drawing, music, and work began or finished ; carefully to deposit in an appointed place such as were to await our return after the holidays, and to pack up such as were to be taken home. Much of character might be discerned in the performance of this. A nice observer of human nature would readily detect, in the method of these school-packages, the neat and thrifty housewife, or the improvident slattern of fu- ture days. Young persons cannot be too frequently reminded that the character may be formed at a very early age, and that it is often distinctly marked by very 148 THE GIRL'S BOOK. trifling circumstances. This was the only task required of us. We generally formed ourselves into little parties, and were employed in completing articles of fancy work as presents either for our companions at parting, or for our friends at home on meeting. Meanwhile, some in- teresting book, not generally granted, was read aloud, or the elder girls were requested in turn to relate some entertaining story, availing themselves of the privilege of employing the dear " mother tongue," in which it was observed, every thing could be so much better expressed and understood. One or two of the girls discovered considerable tact in working up a journal, or record, of the events of the half-year, and I assure you we felt no small interest in listening to the record of our own illus- trious arrivals or departures, sayings and doings, indul- gences or calamities ; of holidays, rainy or sunshiny ; of the visits of friends or strangers ; the introduction of new customs, approved or disliked ; of the produce of silk works or fancy sales, and the distribution of profits ; of the slumbering or awaking of dormice or squirrels, and the death of kittens or canary birds. These and similar events chained the attention of twenty or thirty listeners, with an interest not much less intense, though much less injurious, than would have been produced by the read- ing of a high- wrought fiction. To save the servants trouble, in cooking and washing up, when they were otherwise engaged, our dinner on breaking-up day consisted of sandwiches and puffs, handed round, and eaten without plates, knives, or forks. Being something new, this was so very agreeable, that most of us thought it was a pity ever to take the trouble of laying a cloth, and preparing hot meat : perhaps, had it been constant, we should have esteemed it a hardship. EXAMINATION. 149 We took tea at a very early hour, afler which the grand business of the evening commenced. A considerable party was generally assembled on these occasions, con- sisting of the parents or guardians of the young ladies, and several ministers, and other friends, who felt inter- ested in our improvement. At one end of the long school- room, was a range of seats, raised one above another, capable of seating all the pupils, who were placed in the order of their classes. At the other end, a platform rais- ed in like manner, on which were placed chairs for the guests. The room was tastefully lighted up, and deco- rated with flowers. The children were all dressed in the simplest white, without any ornament whatever. I re- collect one or two of the young ladies had some finery sent to wear on the occasion, but Mrs. P. begged to de- cline its being worn, as she was desirous of avoiding any thing that might excite a fondness for display and admi- ration, and wished that the only distinction perceptible on that occasion, should consist in diligence, proficiency, or propriety of demeanour. One of the teachers, or the music-master, if present, played a quick march while we ascended to our seats. I suppose this was designed to cheer and animate the palpitating little hearts that more or less shrunk from the ordeal. I do not know whether any others were as foolish as myself, but I was dread- fully tormented with a nervous apprehensio nof falling down, and held fast to the rail in front of me the whole time, not daring to look to the right hand or the left." This sensation, in some degree, gave way when it came to my turn to be engaged ;■ but the remains of agita- tion continued with me for days afterwards, and even dis- turbed my rest at nights. I hope the feeling was soli- tary. Had it been general, I am sure our kind-hearted 13* 150 THE GIRL'S BOOK. governess would not have knowingly inflicted such pain and distress. A more sublime piece of music welcomed the entrance of the visiters, and then our governess call- ed upon the youngest pupil to repeat a short poem from memory. I remember a sweet little girl, not more than five years old, repeating " The busy bee ;" and her twin. sister, these delightful lines : il 'Tis religion that can give Real pleasures while we live • 'Tis religion must supply Solid comfort when we die : After death, its joys will be Lasting as eternity ; Be the living God my Friend, Then my bliss shall never end." Thus the exercise proceeded upwards, each in turn repeating a piece adapted to her age and capacity, either in verse or prose ; some in English, and some in French. The first class, consisting of about six, read original es- says on given subjects. After this, one of the ministers present gave us an af- fectionate address, congratulating us on the mercy that had preserved us in health to the close of another session, or alluding to the removal by death of some of our companions. Some reference was generally made to sentiments which had been recited in the poems or suggested in the essays, which were pressed upon our attention for practical purposes. Wise and good precepts were given us for the direction of our conduct during the recess from school duties, and especial appeals made to any who were about to leave the school. Some exam- ples of early piety, or interesting anecdotes, calculated to illustrate and impress the instructions conveyed, gene- EXAMINATION. 151 rally enlivened this address. Then we all joined in sing- ing a hymn ; after which, another minister read a chapter in the Bible, and closed with prayer, affectionately com- mitting us and our instructers to the blessing of God, and imploring on us his protection, guidance, and grace, through the whole of our lives. The company then dispersed, but they did not imme- diately leave the room ; they called to them those chil- dren whom they knew, or in whose exercises they had felt interested, and freely conversed with them. This was by far the most pleasant part of the evening, when the restraint of sitting in one place, and the perturbation of speaking before company, were laid aside, and we felt ourselves at once honoured and encouraged by the notice bestowed on us individually. I could mention the names of eminent ministers, some living, and some departed, of whose kind expressions, and affectionate benedictions, I have the most lively and grateful recollection ; and ex- cepting the terrors of that tremendous scaffolding, I still look back to the breaking-up days with interest and pleasure. " Going-home day," my young friends will conclude, was not less pleasing. An almost sleepless night gene- rally preceded it, lest we should not wake in good time. Then the bustle of cording boxes and writing directions, and giving and receiving keep-sakes, and entrusting the charge of pet animals, or the watering and weeding of gardens, to those who remained at school, with a promise of bringing back something for their gratification ; the hasty and almost neglected breakfast, the welcome sound of the carriage wheels and the coachman's ring ; the delight of being crowded into the coach, Irish fashion, " more by half than it could hold ;" the counting of mile- 152 THE GIRL'S BOOK. stones, the passing by a coach full of school-boys, who pelted us with peas ; the entrance into gay, bustling London ; the groups of anxious friends crowding round the coach door, on our arrival in the inn yard, if we were rather late, or the tedious moments of waiting for them, if we were rather early ; the assorting and claiming of packages and garments ; the affectionate embrace of pa- rents at meeting, and with governess and school-fellows at parting ; the eager greeting of welcome from fathers and mothers, brothers, sisters, and servants ; the spying every little change in the house, furniture, and garden ; and then the sober solid feeling, — " Well, I really am once more at home." Going-home day is surely one of the most exciting and yet delightful days in a child's ex- istence, especially if it be crowned by a testimonial of approbation from the governess, and satisfaction in the parents, and closed with gratitude and consecration to Him in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our ways. CHAPTER VII. HINTS AND EXEMPLIFICATIONS. — IMPORTANCE OF THE PERIOD OF YOUTH AND EDUCATION. — APPLICATION. — SMATTERING. — CURMUDGEON. — ANON AND IBID. — CORRECTING MISTAKES. — CANVASS WORK. — CIRCUMSPECTION. — POSSESSING A WATCH. — PERSEVERANCE. — CHURNING BUTTER. — THE NUT TREES. — FANCY WORK. — STORY OF MATILDA AND MARTHA. — USELESS LA- BOUR. — AUNT RENNIE. — MY SISTER'S CAP. — ACQUIRING A LIBRARY. — FIC- TITIOUS BOOKS. — CONSCIENTIOUS REGARD TO TRUTH. — LAVISH SUPPLY OF MONEY. — STORY OF MISS J. — PRUDENT DISPOSAL OF PROPERTY. — VALUE OF ARITHMETIC — THE TWO COUSINS. —ACCUMULATION. — THE WANDER- ING SOW. — THE POPLAR TREES. — CHINESE PROVERB. — INSTABILITY OF WORLDLY POSSESSIONS. — STORY OF THE GIRL WITH A HUNDRED FROCKS. CHARLES BAILEY. — THE YOUNG WIDOW. THE TEACHER. AMBITION AND CONTENTMENT. — COMPENSATIVE GOODNESS OF GOD. — THE MAIMED HAND. THE BLIND WOMAN. EMULATION AND ENVY. TAKING PLACES LN CLASS. — PRIDE OF CONNEXION. — CURIOSITY AND TATTLING. I now propose to offer to my young friends a few miscellaneous hints and observations on conduct and character, which I shall occasionally illustrate by real examples. Consider the vast importance of the present period of I 54 THE GIRL'S BOOK. your existence. Youth is fitly compared to seed-time. Now if a farmer should be so indolent and heedless as to suffer the season of seed-time to pass neglected, what result can be expected but that in harvest he should have nothing, and should beg] Or if he should be so infatuated as to sow his fields with thistles and nettles, would he have any reason to expect that he should reap wheat or barley? Now, my dear young friends, be as- sured that the harvest of your whole future existence will be greatly influenced by the seed-time of your early youth. Whenever you neglect an opportunity of acquir- ing good instructions, and improving advantages, you are incurring a barrenness for future years, which will be keenly felt by yourself, if not perceived by others, to your disgrace. To avoid this, never lose an opportunity of gaining useful knowledge ; attend to the observations of wise and judicious persons, even on subjects which may not be immediately interesting to you : a sentiment, or remark, well worth retaining, may thus be treasured up in your mind, which at some future time, when cir- cumstances call your attention to the subject in question, may start upon your recollection, and serve to direct your inquiries, or to guard you against error. And here let me caution you against impertinently interrupting the conversation of your superiors. Though not directly addressed to you, if permitted to listen to it, it may afford you instruction ; and should it induce a wish for farther information on the subject, it may be very admissible for you to watch an opportunity, and modestly ask a ques- tion. Persons who are benevolent and condescending, as well as intelligent, would feel pleasure in imparting information to a modestly inquiring child ; but it is very unpleasant when rational conversation is interrupted by HINTS AND EXEMPLIFICATIONS. 155 the petulant remarks of an impertinent child, who has evidently no desire to be instructed ; and whatever pro- fitable conversation may pass in the hearing of such a child, self-conceit is sure to shut out. all the benefit that might have been derived. In pursuing your studies, it will be necessary for you often to refer to the judgement of your instructers. They may wish you to learn some things which to you may seem dull, dry, tedious, and uninteresting ; but of which they are able to appreciate the importance and value much better than yourselves. Now you may depend upon it that patient diligence, exercised as an act of obe- dience, will one day find its reward. This is particu- larly the case in acquiring any language, or even the grammar of your own language : it does seem a dull, unattractive study, and all the " helps " and " made easys," &c, have not yet put the learner in possession of a method of acquiring knowledge without labour and application. But there is real mortification in store for those who " scamp over " their lessons and amuse them- selves with the mere examples, when they find them- selves destitute of a knowledge of the rules on which to construct language ; and real pleasure awaits those who conscientiously apply, when they find themselves in pos- session of a key, at which they have long laboured with- out much seeming progress, but which ultimately unlocks to them the stores of literature. Avoid smattering : whatever you take in hand endea- vour to obtain a thorough knowledge of it ; and be very backward in boasting of, or displaying your attainments. Do you imagine you know a great deal? You could not have fallen into so gross a mistake, but by extreme ignorance of the vast variety of subjects which you have 156 THE GIRL'S BOOK. never at all studied, and the vastly higher attainments of other persons in those to which you have paid some at- tention. I can hardly conceive a more contemptible little being, than a school-girl who boasts that she has " learnt French," and " understands music and draw- ing," and "studies geography and history," etc. etc., when, if her practical knowledge were put to the test, she could hardly answer the simplest question, or work the easiest problem, or show up a correct exercise, or play a dozen bars with correctness or taste, or sketch a gate-post from nature. In every class of society the smatterer is deservedly exposed to contempt and ridi- cule ; and should any occasion occur of bringing into practical use these superficial acquirements, the result must be disappointment and disgrace. To avoid this, endeavour to attain thoroughly whatever you begin ; and whatever attainments you possess, let them be drawn forth by circumstances, rather than ostentatiously dis- played. If you have not already perused, let me ear- nestly recommend to your notice, a paper by the late Miss Jane Taylor, entitled, " The Soliloquies of a young Lady and a Philosopher." It forms one of a number of delightfully interesting and instructive essays, entitled, " Contributions of Q. Q.," in two volumes. Do not accustom yourselves to take things for grant- ed, or to follow any thing blindly, merely because it bears the sanction of a great name, but endeavour to understand whatever you adopt. Persons who adopt, without understanding, what others have said or writ- ten, often make most ridiculous blunders. When Dr. Johnson was engaged on his great work, the English Dictionary, he communicated to his literary friends a list of words of which he could not trace the etymology ANON. AND IBID. 157 and requested from them hints, or conjectures, on the subject. In the dictionary, where these conjectures are adopted, reference is made to the source whence they were derived. The English word " curmudgeon" was one of which Johnson could not trace the origin. The word signifies a mean, miserly fellow, and an unknown correspondent suggested whether it might not be de- rived from the French words " coeur mechani" a wicked heart. Johnson adopted this suggestion ; and having explained the word, says, " It is a vicious manner of pro- nouncing occur mechani, Fr. — An unknown correspon- dent." A subsequent dictionary maker, who did not understand the French language, explains curmudgeon as " A word of French origin, signifying an unknown correspondent." Do not be too certain that the first sense you affix to any word, or sentence, is the real meaning ; especi- ally do not too pertinaciously maintain, if another person think differently, but at least, give yourself the trouble to weigh and consider which is the true meaning. We used at school, a selection of poetry, from which we learned pieces to repeat. In the index of subjects, the author's name was given. Between the names " Mil- ton," " Collins," "Cowper," "Rodgers," "Gray," etc. etc., " Anon. " was pretty frequently interspersed. JNow I question whether any of us had much considered its meaning ; and very likely most of us, if we thought at all about the matter, took it for a proper name. The mistake was easy and excusable ; but I wish to tell you how ridiculous two of our number made themselves by positiveness on a subject of which they were ignorant. A lady who was visiting our governess was much pleased with some lines she heard one of the girls 14 158 THE GIRL'S BOOK. repeat, and asked her who was the author of those very pretty verses. " Anon, raa'm," replied Miss G. " Anon !" repeated the lady, " I do not recollect a poet of that name; are you quite sure you are correct?" " yes, ma'am, quite certain ; I know a great many of his poems." " Pray at what period did he flourish? I do not think his name is recorded in Johnson's Lives of the Poets." " Yes, rna'am, I am almost sure it is : he is rather a modern poet." " What is the general character of his writings?" "His poems are chiefly descriptive and pastoral, and not at all of a religious cast," " And you think it quite impossible that you are mistaken as to there having been a real author of that name ? " " Yes, ma'am, quite so ; Miss T. has just learnt one of his poems, perhaps she knows more particularly about him. Now, Miss T., is there not a poet of the name of Anon?" " O yes, to be sure there is, rather an old writer ; don't you know that poem of his beginning " The lady observed that she never heard an author's name assigned to that poem, and asked Miss T. what was the general character of his writings. Miss T. re- plied, " They are quite of a religious cast, but not of the first order : I mean they are inferior to those of Milton, Young, and those first-rate men." The lady smiled, and said, " Probably so." Miss G. interposed — " 0, Miss T. you are quite mistaken ; his poems are not at all re- ligious. I don't mean that they are irreligious, but I am quite sure they are not religious. " " yes, Miss G. I am quite sure they are ; for instance, there is 'Paul's Speech before Agrippa,' in blank verse, and a piece on S The Immortality of the Soul.' Don't you call those religious subjects?" The disputants were becoming quite warm, when the lady reminded CORRECTING MISTAKES. 159 them of the story of the two knights who fell to fight- ing about the colour of a shield, of which each saw- only one side. " Now," said she, " those knights were mistaken in falling out about a matter in which both were right. Perhaps I shall be able to convince you that you ought not to contend about a matter in which both are wrong. Anon, is a mere contraction of the word anonymous, signifying 4 without a name :' you will find this by examining and comparing several selections, in most of which the anon, does not begin with a capital A, which it would do if it were a proper name : just in the same manner you see the Latin contraction ibid, or its farther contraction ib. signifying ' the same ' as the foregoing author. " Scarcely were my companions con- vinced even by the display of sundry lists of anon. and ibid, in different volumes, or even by the strong internal evidence of their mistake in their own con- tradictory statements. When persons have confidently asserted, and pertinaciously maintained a matter, they are much more easily mortified than convinced — a proof that we should be careful not to say any thing that we do not thoroughly understand, and that we should not be positive in maintaining even that which we think we perfectly well know, but be willing always to listen to reason, and yield to evidence. This reminds me of an amusing, but mortifying blunder, of which a family of my acquaintance possess a permanent memorial. A gentle- man about to commence housekeeping, sent to a corres- pondent, in one of our manufacturing towns, for a set of very elegant tea-trays, to be made to order, which was expressed somewhat in the following manner: — " Twelve trays, from the largest size downwards, of the best papier mache, rich border of cyclamen, jessa- mine, and roses, group of flowers in the centre, well bur- 160 THE GIRL'S BOOK. nished, and in every respect finished off in the most complete manner ; expense no object. P. T. 0." These unfortunate letters, meaning « Please turn over,' were added at the foot of the page to direct the reader over leaf for some direction as to the time and means of conveying the package ; but, alas ! the master of the es- tablishment being out, the young man, into whose hands the letter fell, concluded that they were the initials of the customer and his intended bride, and accordingly finish- ed the trays to order, but with the addition of a splendid cypher, P. T. 0. in one corner of each tray. This mis- take would, in all probability, have been corrected, if the young man, who received the communication, instead of taking the whole responsibility upon himself, had asked the opinion of any one a little more experienced. Young people will do well to think twice, and generally to ask advice before they act. Accustom yourself to correct a mistake as soon as you perceive it. If it be a small mistake, do not think it too inconsiderable to be worth notice. It may be productive of serious injury to yourself, or of leading others into er- ror. If it be a great mistake into which you have fallen, do not be discouraged in attempting to correct it. There is no labour too great to encounter in the attainment of truth, and no state of ignorance or error is hopeless, while there is a humble desire to be set right. I have some- times been interested in observing young ladies employ- ed on canvass-work, which I have thought a useful em- ployment, from the mere circumstance of its accustoming them to habits of exactness in counting and calculating. But suppose the young needle- woman has inadvertently CORRECTING MISTAKES. 161 set a stitch one thread wrong. Presently the work is ob- served to look a little awry, and a mistake is suspected ; but she is unwilling to give herself the trouble of count- ing back, or she counts back carelessly, and so overlooks the mistake, and persuades herself that it does not exist. She goes on again, but finds that every row, or every round, the mischief is aggravated, the pattern cannot be made to fit and match, do what she will ; at last she de- tects the wrong-set stitch, which is the origin of all the mischief, but then she has done so much since, that it would be quite a pity to undo it all. " No, little girl, it is the only thing you can do ; all your attempts to skip a thread here, and patch a stitch there, will never succeed, every additional stitch you set only adds to what must be undone at last, or your work will be forever disfigured." One little girl, convinced of this humbling truth, with a grave countenance and a persevering effort, sets to work, unpicks and unpicks, till she comes to the original error. One sigh perhaps escapes over the naked canvass, then with alacrity and care she again begins filling up, taught by experience to avoid mistakes in future, or to correct them as soon as perceived, and encouraged at the cor- rect and satisfactory progress of her work when conduct- ed on right principles. Another little girl suffers her tem- per to be irritated ; she pettishly drags out the worsted, and breaks or draws aside the threads of the canvass, by which her labour is increased, and pei haps her work com- pletely spoiled. A third, in spite of all remonstrances, persists in leaving the mistake uncorrected, flattering her- self that it will never be seen ; but there it is, as long as the rug, or mat, or sampler, is in existence, — a disgrace- ful monument of the heedlessness and perverseness of the worker. It is thus, my young friends, with all our 14* 162 THE GIRL'S BOOK. errors, whether of sentiment or conduct. The only way to safety, honour, and satisfaction, is to trace the evil to its very root, and cut it up, however painful and hum- bling the task may be ; then go on in a different course, and with renewed circumspection. " Circumspection !" This word reminds me of a venerable minister, who used to visit at our school, who once gave an illustration of the word, which perhaps may be useful to my young readers. " The English word circumspection," said he, "is formed from two Latin words, circum, around, and specto, to look ; so it means, to look around, to be vigilant on every side. Did you ever see a cat walking along ridge-tiles stuck with bro- ken glass? I am sure you will say Puss walked cir* cumspectltf. Did you notice how she looked all round for a spot on which she could safely plant her foot, and avoid the sharp edges of the glass, and how carefully she felt and tried with her paw whether it was firmly fixed before she ventured her whole weight upon it ? So you little ladies have need to look well around you before every step you take. Look about, and be sure that your path runs in the right direction, otherwise you will have to take many a weary step back again ; and be assured, however smooth and flowery the path may be in going, you will find it a thorny way to tread coming back. Look around you, and feel before you venture ; be sure that your footing is firm, or you are likely to fall head- long into disappointment and misery. Look around, and mind that you do not set your foot into a trap, from which you cannot escape, or get it out with bleeding wounds, that will not soon heal. Every year you live, you will be more and more convinced of the need of walking circumspectly, either by the growing experience CIRCUMSPECTION. 163 of wisdom, which will teach you to discern snares and avoid them, or by the growing experience of folly, which will bitterly smart for having neglected and fallen into them." The possession of a watch is a grand object of ambi- tion with young persons in general. I remember, when a girl, being exceedingly desirous of possessing one, and exceedingly delighted when, on my thirteenth birth-day, my dear father presented me with one which had been made on purpose for me. But I am not sure that I made a proper use of it. I know I felt great pleasure in wearing it, in comparing it with the house clock and the church clock, in being asked what o'clock it was, and in winding it up, and hanging it up at my bed's head at night ; but I fear it did not always stimulate me to " Shake off dull sloth, and vig'rous rise, To pay my morning sacrifice ;" nor did it always prompt me to the diligent improvement of every hour in the day, and a careful self-scrutiny at night. I used to think that, when I possessed a watch, I should never be inclined to waste a moment ; but I perceived that the principle of a diligent improvement of time must be found in something more than the ticking of a watch. My young readers may not have met with the following LINES TO A WATCH. " Little monitor ! by thee Let me learn what I should be ; Learn the round of life to fill, Useful and progressive still. Thou canst useful hints impart How to regulate the heart : 164 THE GIRL'S BOOK When I wind thee up at night, Mark each fault, and set thee right ; Let me search my bosom too, And my daily thoughts review : Mark the movements of my mind, Nor be easy when I find Latent errors rise to view, Till all be regular and true." Let me recommend to my young friends a habit of perseverance in well-doing, as opposed to that impa- tience which is too eager for results, and which, if they do not immediately appear, is apt to give way to discou- ragement or instability. "I have been fagging at it a whole year, and I get no ground ; I might as well give it up at once ; I am certain I shall never be able to make any thing of it." Such is not unfrequently the despon- ding conclusion of a learner, who at first was too much elated with the little show she made, (in writing, draw- ing, or whatever the pursuit might be,) and then finding her subsequent progress not so rapid and visible as she expected, had not patience steadily to persevere. In this way, I have known children very eager to read a book, and read or listen very attentively to the first few pages, but the story did not go on quite so fast as they wished, or some sentiments or reflections were intro- duced which, though essential to a right understanding of the work, seemed to them dry and uninteresting. So they skipped over here and there, just picking out such bits as seemed most entertaining, and then flattered them- selves, and perhaps professed to others, that they had read the book. This was indeed a foolish self- deceiv- ing. Now there are, at least, two motives to persever- ance which ought to be impressed on the mind of every PERSEVERANCE. !65 learner and every beginner. Without perseverance all your past labour is lost ; and in perseverance every step brings you nearer to success. Did you ever see a dairy maid churning her butter ] It is a laborious and mono- tonous exercise, whether to turn the handle of a barrel churn round and round, or to lift the handle of an upright churn up and down, up and down, for an hour together ; and yet, if she becomes loitering or impatient, and suf- fers the motion to stop, not merely its progress arrested, but in the dairy language, " the butter goes back ;" the business does not remain stationary, but retrogrades. But if in spite of weariness she goes steadily on, perhaps only two or three strokes after she has resisted the temp- tation to flag, a thickening sound is perceptible in the liquor, which indicates that the change she has so anx- iously waited has actually taken place. So, my dear young friends, be encouraged not to cast away good be- ginnings ; press on, however weary, and perhaps a very few more steps may reward your perseverance. In an inferior sense, that encouraging maxim of Scripture will apply to every virtuous pursuit, and in the highest degree to the most important pursuit of all — "Be not weary in well doing, for in due season we shall reap if we faint not." Gal. vi. 9. The eager impatience of some young people to get through a book, or to make a show in any pursuit before they have made real progress, or really understand what they are about, often reminds me of one of my childish follies. I once set four very fine filberts in my father's garden, and pleased myself with the idea of their becom- ing trees, from which I should gather fruit and present to my friends. This was about November. I asked the old gardener how long it would be before they would 16 6 THE GIRL'S BOOK. come up. I sighed as he replied, " Four, five month ; may be two winter : sometime de nut remain in ground two winter, den come up fine strong plant." " Be sure you don't dig them up, Monet," I said. "Ah, no; I will put four marks to keep place where miss plant her nut trees." When I was at home a few days at Easter, I reckoned that four months had elapsed, and with some self-com- placency at my own patient waiting so long, (though, by the way, I had no opportunity of doing otherwise,) I proceeded to the spot in full expectation of seeing them come up ; but nothing appeared. I began to think that they must have been devoured by mice or squirrels, and began digging the spot with a trowel. After some little search I found one of my nuts ; it appeared very moist and black, with lying in the ground, but I could perceive no appearance of growing; I cracked the shell, and found that the kernel was much swollen ; and on biting it, found a bitter disagreable taste. Just as I put it out of my mouth, Monet came up. " Ah, miss, miss, tell Monet ' no dig up my nuts ;' miss dig 'em up herself." "Yes, Monet," 1 replied, "it is of no use to leave them in the ground, they have been in above four months, and are not a bit the forwarder ; they will never grow." Mo- net picked up the kernel that I had just thrown down, and having split it, showed me in the centre a little tiny germ, just ready to burst forth. He made me also ob- serve that the substance of the nut appeared more soft and spongy than when first gathered, and that it was so much enlarged in size, as that it would very soon have broken the shell ; all this, he told me, indicated the cer- tain progress of vegetation. I was now vexed that I had removed my nut, and anxious to have it replanted ; but THENUTTREES. 167 this, Monet assured me, was quite useless. The little germ was not far enough advanced to make its way with- out the protection of the shell. I felt vexed at my own folly, but resolved to content myself with three trees in- stead of four, and to wait patiently the developement cf the operations of nature. At Midsummer, when I came home, I was delighted to perceive two fine strong plants, each with six leaves, in the places where two of my nuts were set. Shall I own that I was then as skeptical at the haste, as before I had been at the delay? " It is impossible," I thought, "that in these few weeks a strong stalk, and six large leaves, can have sprung from a little nut, which then had scarcely any signs of life. Besides, if these two came from the nuts, why did not the third come as well 1 I am sure I only dug up one of the four." To satisfy myself I again had recourse to the trowel. After a little digging, I found the decaying nut on the root of each, and was convinced that these beautiful little trees were but the advancement of a germ like that which Monet had shown me in the one I destroyed. I replaced them as carefully as I could ; and feeling somewhat ashamed of my exploit, and unwilling to be again detected, I did not grope any farther to find the fourth nut, but conclu- ded that it had perished, and that I should do very well with two nut trees. Next day, however, I was much concerned to find my trees looking very flabby ; whether I had injured the delicate roots, or whether it was owing to the dryness of the ground and the heat of the sun I knew not ; but I felt something like a foolish mother, who, when she sees her child sickening and pining, feels conscious that she has given it some unwholesome food, or been in some way negligent of it. Confused and 168 THE GIRL'S BOOK. grieved, I called in the council of old Monet, who kind- ly afforded them every aid in his power, by constant wa- tering, and sheltering from the heat of the sun. One of them soon recovered, but the other still looked sickly ; it advanced no farther in its growth, but dwindled away, and died. My stock was now, to all appearance, re- duced to one tree. I consoled myself as well as I could for the failure of the rest, and centred my attention in the one that remained. I was anxious to know how soon it might be expected to bear fruit, and sighed again when Monet replied, " Three — four year, may be five — six." An unexpected pleasure, however, awaited me in one instance. The following spring, as I watched the opening leaf-buds on my one tree, I perceived a strong plant thrusting up the earth, and on calling in my old friend Monet, had the satisfaction of receiving his decided opinion that it was my fourth filbert, which, after remaining so many months under ground, was now ma- king its way with proportionate vigour. It soon over- took its elder brother, and strongly impressed on my mind the importance of allowing time and patience to every important operation. Many years have I gather- ed fruit from both the trees ; they still flourish, and re- mind me that but for my own childish impatience and despondency, I might have possessed two more equally valuable. I am ashamed and grieved when I reflect how many valuable books I might have understood more thoroughly, and how much valuable knowledge of one kind or other I might have acquired, but for the oc- casional indulgence of those follies against which I warn my dear young friends. I have already hinted (p. 69) at the fondness of young persons in general, for what is called fancy work. I THE NUT TREES. Iby will, however, add a remark or two on the subject. First, I would say, regard proper bounds as to the time and attention bestowed on these inferior pursuits ; and next, be rather ambitious to do a few things well, than to imitate, in a careless and slatternly manner, every thing you see.. Some children discover a disposition to begin every thing and finish nothing. I am sorry when I see this even in their little amusements, for it is a habit that is very likely to go with them into more important con- cerns, and be very injurious. I recollect on the day of my entering school, when I was calculating largely upon the pleasure of learning to do chenile work, and wax work, and muslin work, and fancy work of all kinds, my good governess told me the story of two of her earliest pupils, more than twenty years before, a story which I have seen verified many times since. " The parents of Matilda," said my governess, ** were falsely indulgent, and the little girl was capricious and self-willed. Un- fortunately, she was a day- scholar, and so had an op- portunity of communicating her whims as fast as they arose, and gaining permission to indulge them. Every new piece of fancy work that was brought into the school Matilda must needs begin one like it ; but she persuaded her mamma that plain work made her head ache, and that the lessons and exercises set her were so difficult that it was impossible for her to do them. Then she would come late, and bring a note to beg that sha might be excused, not being quite well. All my endeavours to do good to this child were in vain ; and as I found her example was injurious to my other scholars, I was obli- ged to request her parents to remove her. She had to take home plenty of spoiled satin, and spoiled muslin, and spoiled canvass, and tangled silks, worsteds, and 15 170 THE GIRL'S BOOK. cottons, but not one finished piece of work of any kind, nor one useful attainment. I grieved for her then, and I grieve now ; for she is the untidy, idle, extrava- gant mother of a set of neglected children, and scarcely knows how to mend a shirt for her husband, to cast up an account, or to write a letter. What would become of Matilda and her family if she should be left a widow? "Her cousin Martha is a very different character. Martha's parents had her real welfare at heart more than her momentary gratification. She, too, was a day-scho- lar; but in coming to school was as punctual as the clock, and always with her lessons and exercises well prepared. Her parents impressed on her mind a sense of the value of instruction, and of the necessity of dili- gence in improving it. Martha was an ingenious little girl, and her mother had no objection to her occasionally learning a little fancy work ; but this indulgence was granted as a recreation, not pursued as a business, and always a reward for attention, diligence, and persever- ance in some less attractive pursuit. Whatever Mar- tha began she finished. Her neat parlour is now decorat- ed with copies of some of the pieces you see here ; and, what is far more important, she is neat, industrious, clever, and managing in all the concerns of her house and family." The story of Matilda and Martha sunk into my me- mory, and, together with my governess's observations, somewhat sobered my passion for fancy work. I de- termined not to ask leave to set about any until I had accomplished something plain and useful. Accord- ingly, my completing a set of shirts for my father was rewarded by permission to select any piece of fancy work I might prefer. My young friends will perhaps find USELESS LABOUR AUNT RENNIE 171 their advantage in a somewhat similar discipline and re- straint. Another remark I would suggest on fancy work is, the preference due to intrinsic value, rather than the mere boast of expense or labour. I have heard young ladies or their mothers, when displaying their productions, boast " that it took six months to do it, and the silk alone cost between two and three guineas." "Astonishing!" re- plies one of the admiring spectators, " what an immense deal of work there is in it ! one canhardly believe that it was all done stitch by stitch with the needle. I'm sure till you told me it was Miss 's own work, I thought it had been done in a loom." Yes, — and upon reflec- tion, it appears that the time and cost constitute the chief beauty of the piece ; a better article, in point of real beauty and utility, might have been procured for far less money. Compare, for instance, the dull laborious fili- gree of former days on a work-box or tea-caddy, with the neat rosewood, satinwood, or even mahogany ar- ticle of the regular cabinet-maker ; and the tedious em- broidery, with a well executed engraving. For a very short time are these boarding-school productions looked at with any interest : in a few years they become old fashioned, and are transferred from the drawing room to the breakfast parlour, the nursery, and the garret. There are in our family two traditions, which, even in the days of my youth, did much to cure me of this spe- cies of laborious trifling. One is of "Aunt Rennie" (some great aunt of my grandmother's) " who worked herself blind." Some remains of her labours still exist, — a counterpane closely stitched all over, of which it was her boast that " there is not an inch together in any part that is not worked upon." There is also an apron, very much resembling those cut in paper at the present day 172 THE GIRL'S BOOK. to hang in front of grates. At first sight, you might imagine that the pattern was cut out in like manner, in a substance of thick sheeting or hosiery ; but, on close examination, it proves that the solid part is fine point, worked stitch by stitch, with fine thread, accomplished, perhaps, at the rate of an inch a day. And what was her reward 1 — years of blindness, and inability to pursue any useful employment for her family, or to read the book of God for her own edification. The other story was of my eldest sister, who, at the age of nine or ten year^, was placed at a school of the old-fashioned stamp, where these almost obsolete la- bours were still cultivated as accomplishments. She was to work a baby's cap for some expected brother or sister, and the governess resolved that no labour or cost should be spared to render it " the most beautiful that ever was seen." The criterion of beauty, it seems, con- sisted in " the work being so thick that you could not set a pin's point between." This herculean effort of child- ish skill and patience was at length accomplished,, well begrimed by the little toilsome fingers, and often watered with the briny tears of weariness and disgust ; and what with the dirt, the tears, the weakening of the fabric by drawing threads from the cambric for open work, and the weight of the solid work added, when the said cap was washed preparatory to its being made up for use, it entirely dropped to pieces, and the poor little worker had to sigh over months of labour in vain. In this miscellaneous chapter I beg to drop a hint or two about the acquirement of a library. I should recom- mend all young persons to begin early, and steadily per- severe in getting up a valuable selection of books. Most young people have a weekly or quarterly allowance of pocket-money; a considerable proportion of this would be ACQUIRING A LIBRARY. 173 well bestowed on books of real interest and utility. Those who cultivate a taste for reading are in little danger of being tempted to squander their money on the mean and childish gratifications of the palate, or on useless baubles and trinkets. There is some good gained in cultivating a more refined and exalted taste. Be careful in your choice of books. When a young person discovers the very lauable desire to gather for herself a little library, it is much to be wished that her money should be turned to the best account. It will in general be wise to ask the counsel of some experienced friend that you may not be imposed upon by the purchase of worthless or perni- cious trash, being caught by an attractive title, or a showy manner of getting up. I would caution you also against the purchase even of standard works, without consulting some friend of judgement and experience as to a good edition. In the days of my youth, when I was devoting a portion of my little resources to putting my- self in possession of a library, I was more than once caught by advertisements of cheap books, which proved very worthless. " Cowper's Poems" was early set on my list of desiderata; and, seeing an edition advertised at a low price, I hastened to order it, but was not a little mortified on finding myself in possession of that delight- ful work, printed on the commonest tea paper, and with such utter disregard to all rules of spelling and pointing, as rendared it absolutely unintelligible. After a while, I exchanged it, and got from the bookseller an allowance of about one third the low price I had paid for what was absolutely worthless. I therefore caution my young friends against being taken in, in a similar manner. Again : do not be tempted hastily to buy every " pretty" or " interesting" book you may meet with. There are many b^oks with which one may be pleased on a first 15 174 THE GIRL T S BOOK. reading, which do not possess a "permanent interest or value. It is very well to read them if an opportunity offers, but they are not worth possessing. In forming a library, it is desirable to select those works which may be referred to, or read with interest, again and again, at every period of life ; and here let me remark, I would by no means advise my young friends to cast away, as childish, the books of their childhood. If really sensible and judicious, they may be referred to with interest and improvement in mature life, and will often serve to awa- ken the most pleasing recollections, and recall the most valuable instructions, as well as be esteemed almost as a sacred relic by succeeding generations. This I can testify from experience. This, perhaps, is as good a place as any to drop a cau- tion against the love of fictitious reading. Truth invigor- ates the mind, fiction excites and enfeebles it. This re- mark does not apply to those works of which the real object is the enforcement and illustration of truth, by ex- amples of character, where the circumstances are kept within the bounds of every-day occurrence, and where there is little more of fiction than the names, but to those in which truth is sacrificed to effect, and probability to excitement; the scenes of human life are invested with an unreal splendour, and character with a fascinating loveliness, though unsustained by any one principle of real excellence. Such reading has a strong tendency to injure the youthful mind, to weaken its principles, to warp its standard of right and wrong, to give a disrelish for the ordinary duties of life, to render irksome the sober coun- sel and restraints of parents and friends, and to produce a rebellious dissatisfaction with the allotments of Provi- dence. Almost every reader of such books fancies her- self the heroine of a similar tale, and feels herself griev- FICTITIOUS BOOKS. 175 ously injured if she does not receive all the sentimental homage of which she reads, and if she does not experi- ence those " fortunate coincidences" which would instan- taneously place her in all the sentimental bliss and ele- vation of which her sickly imagination has dreamed. I am thankful that the days of my youth were, in a great measure, shielded from such temptations. I was, in general, out of the way of seeing, hearing, or think- ing about such books. But I was once on a visit to two young friends, who were in the habit of consuming much of their time and money on the pernicious trash of a cir- culating library ; and I must acknowledge with shame, that although at the very time a sort of disgust mingled with the fascination, the reading of that month, though confined to books pronounced unexceptionable in their moral tendency, unsettled my mind for at least a year from steady and regular application to more profitable studies ; it excited a hankering after fresh gratification ; it led to the writing a few foolish sonnets and elegies, and the indulgence of a few idle day-dreams which, hap- pily, never were realized ; and oh, what a mercy for me that there the mischief ended ! It is not so in every case. I could point to instances where it has led to the forma- tion of imprudent connexions, and to the exciting of vain and delusive expectations, and the propensity for that kind of reading has been in after-life indulged, to the neg- lect of family duties ; a mother has deferred attention to her babe, because she w r ould not be interrupted in peru- sing the exciting details of a novel. In other cases, the sickly taste has been indulged till the subjects of it have brought themselves into a state bordering upon insanity, and rendered themselves utterly useless in society, and a burden to themselves, the prey of imaginary miseries and 176 THE GIRL'S BOOK. imaginary terrors. Let me entreat you, my dear young friends, to be select in your reading ; seek the advice and direction of judicious friends ; tremble at the thought of perusing a book which is lent you with an injunction to secrecy, or in which it strikes you that secrecy is de- sirable ; and even in using the very best books of an en- tertaining cast, be careful to exercise moderation. Let them be kept in their proper place ; give them, occasion- ally, a few moments of recreation, but do not alienate to them the hours that ought to be devoted to solid improve- ment, to ordinary duties, or to the sacred exercises of religion. Let me urge on my young friends a strict and consci- entious regard to truth. I have known school-girls who would not, for the world, be thought guilty of falsehood, boast how cleverly they had deceived. " I said no, when I meant yes ; but I whispered to myself, ' the backward way"' and so it was only a white lie to save a school-fel- low from disgrace." " The teacher asked 'me if I had done my exercise. I said ' Yes, JVIa'am,' and that was true enough, for I had done it, but not to-day." Many such foolish and wicked sayings I have heard ; and as human nature is the same in every age, I fear that the same, or similar deceptions, may be practised now, and therefore that the caution to my young friends is not un- necessary. Cultivate an habitual and conscientious love of truth; indulge in no equivocations, no mental reser- vations. An intention to deceive constitutes the essence of a lie, in whatever way the end may be accomplished or attempted, whether by adding to matter-of-fact, or suppressing a part of the truth, or confusing circumstan- ces together, which are not really connected, or by mis- representing the intention and design. In all these, and REGARD TO TRUTH. 177 innumerable other ways, a real moral falsehood may be told in the literal words of truth ; but remember "the Lord looketh on the heart," and the intention to mislead or deceive is clearly perceived, and intolerably odious in the sight of Him whose eyes are as a flame of fire, pene- trating the inmost recesses of the heart, and who is at once the Lord God Omniscient, and the Lord God of Truth. The subject to which I have alluded is perhaps espe- cially a snare of school-girls ; for such evasions would hardly be thought of, except where several are assem- bled together, and put one another up to evil. Girls at home, however, will feel conscious of being often tempt- ed to accept praise which did not belong to them ; or of, in some way or other, suffering a thing to be supposed which was not correct ; or of giving an evasive answer to a question directed at something which they wished to keep concealed. In whatever way these hints may be applicable, I hope conscience will appropriate and improve them. This reminds me of a circumstance which my young friends desired should be recorded. (See Introduction, p. 5.) One night our school-room was broken into : the English teacher, who with several of the young la- dies slept over the school-room, distinctly heard the thieves break in at a window, and ransack the closets. As the school-room door opening into the house was very securely locked and barred outside, she hoped they might not get any farther access to the house, and thought it was better to let them decamp with what they could find in the school-room, which she knew could not be of any great value, rather than to disturb the esta- blishment, which consisted entirely of females, or to pro- voke the thieves to farther violence by any attempt at resistance, which she knew would be in vain. She 178 THE GIRL'S BOOK. therefore lai(T quite still, but anxiously listening. At length she heard them sawing the door : she then jump- ed up, opened a door at the foot of the second staircase, sprang a rattle, and called out very loudly, — "John, get up directly, and call your master to bring his pistols, for there are thieves in the house." This stratagem completely succeeded : the thieves, concluding that there were at least two men in the house, hastily decamped, dropping most of their booty in the play-ground and an adjoining field. The teacher was highly applauded in almost every company where the affair was mentioned, and in the public newspapers, for extraordinary prompti- tude and presence of mind ; but somehow it left an im- pression that, however successful the stratagem, it was an infringement on truth that could not be justified ; — at least, it was always present to my mind, that if it suits Miss L.'s purpose to make us think things are different from what they are, she will not hesitate to do it so long as she does not tell a falsehood in words. I could nev- er afterwards rely so implicitly on her representations as I could on those of my governess. There are other temptations peculiarly belonging to school-girls, on which I would drop a word or two. A lavish supply of pocket-money is that which most girls covet ; and which the indulgence of parents and friends is too apt to supply, as a kind of substitute for the indul- gences of home. We are told in Scripture that the love of money is the root of all evil ; and it is often seen that the possession of money is the source of much evil. If there is in the school an artful girl, she is sure to worm herself into the friendship of the girl of large possessions, and in some way or other, to make her a dupe ; very probably to bring her into schemes of mischief, of which she might otherwise have remained in happy ignorance. STORY OP MISS J. 179 If there were no other evils resulting from too great a supply of pocket-money, as it facilitates the attainment, so it fosters the love of pleasure, and encourages a sort of dissipatad habit, which is ever found an enemy to ap- plication and improvement. In any class of students, it rarely occurs that the most wealthy are those who dis- tinguish themselves by industry and acquirements. I well recollect an instance of a young lady whose resour- ces were the most abundant of any girl in the school. She was by no means destitute of natural abilities or amiable disposition. Had she applied herself to learn- ing, she might have competed with any of her compan- ions. Had she not been exposed to this peculiar temp- tation, she would have found application and subordina- tion as easy to her as the rest ; but money was her bane. She was flattered and caressed by the mean and selfish. Her indolence and love of pleasure were encouraged by her having at command the services of two or three mer- cenary and plodding hirelings, who, for the sweepings of her profusion, were always ready to compose a theme, write a French exercise, prepare a sum, or do any thing which could possibly be done by deputy. Such tricks may pass awhile undetected ; but improvement cannot be obtained by proxy; and in spite of all the pains be- stowed on her, Miss J. never could reach beyond the middle of the second class. A very artful day-scholar, too, (who was afterwards detected and expelled,) ingra- tiated herself with this child of fortune, and was con- tinually employed with commissions to make lavish and unallowed purchases ; thus all her intimacies and pur- suits were of an unprofitable and injurious character, her education was neglected, and her principles weakened. Her fond parents were disappointed, and she finally K¥ TH E GIRL'S BOOK. brought distress on them and on herself, by an unsuita- ble marriage with a mercenary and unprincipled indivi- dual. The point, then, of caution to parents is, to be- ware of affording too large a supply, and to children, to guard against a lavish expenditure of pocket-money. It is exceedingly important early in life to acquire fixed principles as to the disposal of property. It is better for young persons to know the price of the little articles they use for their play or their fancy work, than to be sup- plied with what they want without any idea of the cost. It is a little profitable exercise of economy, prudence, and resolution, if they wish to procure more than the amount of one week's money will supply, to wait for the produce of two or three. Arithmetic is a most valuable acquirement. Cultivate it, my dear young friends, and apply it to practical use. Do habituate yourselves to keep a regular account of your little resources and expenses. Distribute your little income into several allotments, and suffer not one to entrench upon another. Keeping a written account will be of great use to you in restraining needless expenses. When about to open your purse im- prudently, you will sometimes be happily checked by con- sidering how you shall like to see such an entry in your book. My father, in his youth, was placed in the house of a wealthy but uneducated merchant ; and was employed in keeping all his cash accounts, including those of his private purse, which he chose to have regularly balanced every week. Most weeks the rough memorandum handed to the youth contained one item which he could not understand, — " Dono — so much." At length, sup- posing it to be some phrase in book-keeping which he ought to understand, he ventured to ask an explanation of the word. "What does it mean?" replied his mas- PRUDENT DISPOSAL OF PROPERTY. 181 ter ; " Why, it means either that I have forgotten what I spent the money upon, or else I do not choose to have it known and set down ; and so I say, 4 Don't know.' " If young ladies, who squander their money without keep- ing any account, would but begin to do it regularly, even with this qualification, I do think the frequent appear- ance in their account-book of the ugly word " Do-no," would shame or frighten them from many needless ex- penses. By keeping an account, you will be able to look back, and trace in the excess of last week or month, the cause of straitness in the present, and know how to retrieve for the future. You will know what you can afford, and what you can not ; and this very simple kind of knowledge will, of itself, go far in checking desires af- ter things beyond your reach. I hope you will consider even the small sums now placed at your disposal, as tal- ents entrusted to you, for which you must be responsible to the Giver of all. This conviction, habitually cherish- ed, will guard you from squandering your money upon folly and vanity ; and will teach you, among your inno- cent gratifications, not to overlook the exalted pleasure of doing good to your fellow- creatures, both as to their bodies and their souls. I need not tell you, for I hope you know it by experience, that it is an unspeakable honour to be employed in promoting the cause of God, and ministering to the happiness of men, and that the most pure and exalted pleasures are not connected with self-indulgence, but with self-control and benevolence. I am far from wishing to recommend or encourage a parsimonious disposition, or mere love of accumulation ; yet I think a prudent desire to spare something from present income for future advantage, is very commend- able and beneficial. In each weekly, monthly, or yearly 16 182 THE GIRL'S BOOK. allotment of income, some little surplus, however small, should be retained for unforseen calls, whether personal or relative. It is very pleasant to have a little store to which to resort in case of wishing to obtain a valuable book, to make a handsome present to a beloved friend, or to come forward liberally to meet some extraordinary call for public usefulness. Such pleasure is not the lot of those who squander their income on selfish gratifica- tions. However much they may receive, they are always poor. Two cousins, at the age often years, were pre- sented by their grandmother with ten guineas each, with an injunction to the parents of each, that the children might be permitted to dispose of it as they pleased. One of the little girls having been accustomed to see her mother wearing expensive ornaments, quickly decided upon the purchase of a necklace, bracelets, and ear-rings to cor- respond. The judgement of several visiting friends was consulted ; one pronounced them " the most beautiful that ever eyes beheld ;" another considered them " very cheap ;" a third declared that the little girl, when dressed in them, " looked like an angel ;" but a fourth irremedi- ably offended both mother and daughter, by observing that " the child looked far more like a tragedy queen ; and that she considered those tawdry ornaments utterly in- consistent with the simplicity of childhood." However, Isabella was permitted to strut about in them, and ima- gine herself elevated far above her companions in less splendid attire ; but the pleasure and the admiration were but shortlived ; in a very few years, these trinkets had become, to adopt the young lady's own phrase, " so odiously old-fashioned, it was utterly impossible to wear them." They were changed away, with a heap of other ornaments that had fallen under the same ban ; they THE TWO COUSINS. 183 formed a trifling part of the purchase of others more congenial to the modern taste of the young lady, and her grandmamma's present was forgotten. The present received by her cousin was also, in a sense, forgotten, but very differently. Those who are most accustomed to a prudent and economical applica- tion of money to its real uses, are least inclined to be de- lighted in the possession of it for its own sake. Such was the case with Mary, the cousin of Isabella. From example and habit she had learnt to bring her personal requirements within a very small compass, and, by a ju- dicious allotment of her weekly resources, she found them sufficient for the purposes of friendship and benevo- lence. She, therefore, with much quiet self-possession, said, on receiving the money, " It is very kind of grand- mamma to make me this present, and it may be very use- ful to me at some time or other, but I do not want it now. Will you be so kind as to take care of it for me, papa?' Papa undertook the charge ; and gave his lit- tle girl a written acknowlegement for the sum, which he desired her carefully to preserve, and to produce it at any time when she might wish to make use of a part or all of the money. The note was laid by in her little bureau, and the transaction scarcely ever recollected. About fourteen years afterwards, Mary was likely to be married. The same prudence in expenditure which was seen in the little girl often years old, marked the arrange- ments of the young woman of twenty-four. All her pur- chases, whether of clothing or furniture, were made with a due regard to mod^ation, propriety, utility, and durability. Her own little library, the careful gathering of many years, and that of her intended, formed a se- lect and valuable, though not very extensive collection. 184 THE GIRL'S BOOK. There was, however, one class of books which the young people, each having access to a father's more extensive library, had not procured for themselves. " We shall want a good Commentary on the Holy Scriptures," observed the friend of Mary. " Yes," she replied ; " and " the bright recollection starting at that moment into her mind, " I will buy one with my grandmother's ten guineas." The note was produced, and the father applied to, and consulted as to the Commentary to be chosen. " You may have several, if you please, for your money has just become double the sum you originally put into my hands. Use it as discreetly as you have kept it ; and it will put you in possession of a valuable stock of information in the various departments of biblical learning. Then, in- deed, was the grandmother's gift remembered with gra- titude, and applied to the purchase of that which may prove a blessing to children's children. There can be nothing farther from my wishes, than to instil the love of money for its own sake ; but I am sure that economy is the parent of liberality, as well as of comfort. " Spare not, nor spend too much ; be this your care — Spare but to spend, and only spend to spare." I remember reading of a gentleman who wished to make a present to his new-born nephew ; he had not much to spare, but was desirous of turning it to the best account. Several projects suggested themselves to his mind, but at last he resolved to purchase a strip of waste land, which he obtained for a mere trifle. By his own labour, (for he was an earl j riser, and on any special occasion contrived to add an hour or two to the working hours of the day,) he dug the land ; planted it with a thou- sand poplar twigs ; kept the ground clean and watered t INSTABILITY OF WORLDLY POSSESSIONS. 185 and replaced any that failed to strike. After the first year or two no attention was required : and when his ne- phew attained the age of twenty-one years, the trees were felled, and sold at one guinea each, with which sum the young man was set up in a profitable business. Thus his provision for life might be traced to an act of prudent forethought on the part of a kind and judicious friend. If every one were thus prudent and managing, what sums might be raised by similar expedients, for the com- fort of families, or for the support of benevolent and re- ligious institutions ! " By time and patience," says the Chinese proverb, "the mulberry leaf becomes satin." Who, that wished for a rich satin dress, (if previously unacquainted with the fact,) would think of applying to a poor little insignificant worm to procure hi and who is there that duly considers the great results which often proceed from small beginnings, and the ingenious ways that may be devised for extending the means of useful- ness and enjoyment 1 My dear young friends, I cannot refrain from offering a remark on the instability of worldly possessions, and the frequent reverses in fortune that take place in fa- milies. I sometimes recall to my recollection the com- panions of my childhood, and reckon that perhaps, first and last, I was at school with upwards of sixty young ladies. Were it possible to trace their various histories, how few, perhaps, of those who survive would be found exactly in the situation, as to worldly circumstances, which their family connexions then indicated 1 In many instances, I know of very iflPboked-for changes. Meet- ing with my governess after the lapse of a few years, I naturally inquired after my former companions, and her answers have generally conveyed to my mind some strik- 16* 186 THE G I R L r S B O OE» ing impression of the vast importance that young persons should improve their advantages, and should acquire such habits as will fit them for a change of circumstances* I recollect a little girl from India, who brought a chest so large that it could scarcely be taken in at the door* It contained a hundred muslin frocks, and a general wardrobe of corresponding extent, and all made of one size. Her silly pride of possession was exceedingly mortified that she was not permitted to display all these stores in disparaging comparison with our scantier, but sufficient wardrobes. Our governess merely took out what she considered necessary for present use, and con- signed the cumbrous remainder to temporary oblivion. This poor child, too, had been fanned, and carried about* and waited on by slaves,, and she fancied it a most cruel degradation when required to make her own bed, mend and fold up her clothes, and fetch whatever she wanted for her use. Time in some degree reconciled her to* her condition ; but still her chief pleasure seemed to con- sist in reverting to past, or anticipating future scenes of Eastern magniftcence. These sentiments and feelings were strengthened by an occasional visit to her English* guardian, or by the lavish presents of East India cap- tains, who sometimes called on her. On my inquiring @f Mrs. P. whether Miss M- returned to India when she had finished her education,, — " No," she replied, " poor Miss M. has experienced a most unlooked-for reverse of circumstances. Her mother was a woman of India, and her father having recently married an European lady,, has sent a remittance of a few hundred pounds, with di- rections that Maria should have any farther instructions that might- be necessary to qualify her for the office of teacher in as school, or governess hi a private family, and INSTABILITY OF WORLDLY POSSESSION*. J87 that henceforth she must rely on her own exertions for support. About this time," continued Mrs. P., " her English guardian died, and those into whose hands the commission came, removed her from my establishment, and placed her in a fashionable school in the neighbour- hood of London. She never applied herself sufficiently to be competent for teaching ; and after several unsuc- cessful engagements, her money being exhausted, she was glad to become companion to a lady. Poor girl! she who thought it a hardship to put on her own clothes, has now to wait upon another. Glad should I be to hope that her reverses had been made a blessing to her ; and that she learns in a humble station to be content, which the proud never learn in the midst of their great- ness." " And the Miss D 's : they were very amiable and accomplished girls. Do you know, ma'am r what has become of them?" " Yes, my dear m r they, too, have experienced reverses in fortune. Their father, who was supposed to be one of the richest merchants in London, suddenly failed, and the family was plunged at once from affluence to poverty* foor Mr. D. died soon afterwards? and left his widow and daughters entirely destitute. They, however, had not merely commanded homage by their affluence, but had deserved respect by their excellence. Hence they have never lost their rank in society, but are highly res- pected and countenanced by those who knew them in the days of their prosperity. With true dignity and humility the young ladies, whom- you had justly reckoned accom- plished, have turned their accomplishments to real and important use. The eldest daughter is highly esteemed as governess in a family of distinction ; the 1 two others 188 THE GIRL'S BOOK. have profitable engagements as daily governesses, and employ their leisure hours in drawing, for which they ob- tain a liberal remuneration ; and by their united efforts, the three young ladies have the happiness of supporting their excellent mother in comfort and respectability, and enjoying the benefit of her society and example." My governess's narrative reminded me of an affecting record on the wall of a cell in the Tower of London : — " The most unhappy man is he that is not patient in ad- versities ; for men are not killed with the adversities they have, but with the impatience with which they suffer. Charles Baily, 10th Sep. 1571. Mt. 29." Another of my school-fellows, who married a respect- able tradesman, was in early life left a widow, with five or six young children. Having made herself occasionally useful in the business during her husband's life-time, es- pecially in keeping the books, (mark again, my young friends, the value of arithmetic,) she had acquired some knowledge of its general principles and practical details. She nobly roused herself from yielding to the pressure of her calamity ; and, relying on the aid of Him whom she happily knew as the God of the fatherless and the widow, she resolved to make an effort on behalf of her children. She applied herself with assiduity to the busi- ness, and conducted it in such a way as to gain the full confidence of the wholesale dealers, the approbation of the customers, and a maintenance for her family ; every one of whom has been well educated and respectably provided for. I must mention one instance more of the mutability of hu- man affairs. A young person who was first a half-boarder, and afterwards an assistant teacher, remained with my governess till her death, and then joined another teacher THE TE A CHER. 189 in conducting the school. After some years, she was married to an elderly gentleman of large property. This connexion placed her in a situation in life far above her early expectations. Her residence was in one of the squares at the west end of the town ; an elegant carriage, and numerous servants, were at her command, and the means of gratifying her most enlarged and liberal wishes. She bore her elevation well : her manners were mild, dignified and unassuming ; her personal expenses mode- rate, and the pleasures of benevolence her chief luxury. Happy are those who are not unduly elated by prosperity ; they are best fitted to descend with composure and re- signation into the vale of adversity, should such be their future allotment. After living ten or twelve years in splendour, it was the lot of this excellent woman to return to comparative obscurity and straitness. Her husband died, after a very short illness, which afforded no oppor- tunity for the arrangement of his worldly concerns, which he had, during health and activity, unwisely deferred from day to day. Various perplexing law-suits were encoun- tered, in the settlement of his affairs, and such great losses were sustained from various unforeseen disasters, that she was left in comparative destitution, except in the resources of a pious, contented, and cultivated mind. From such vicissitudes, learn, my young friends, to avoid the contemptible vanity and presumption that would boast of present dignity and possessions, of which a few days may deprive you. Avoid fancied wants and ex- travagant indulgences, which a change of circumstances might render inconvenient and unattainable ; and culti- vate habits of diligence, moderation, and piety, which will best enable you to accommodate yourselves to any change that may await you ; and to improve by alL 190 THE GIRL'S BOOK I would not make my chapter of sundries tedious, but I have yet a few particulars on which to touch. Let me recommend a spirit of contentment. Do not emulate the appearance and expenses of those in higher life ; the outward distinctions which you are too apt to admire and covet, do little to promote the happiness of those % who possess them, and you may be very happy without them. Happiness will be promoted, not by your as- piring to a higher lot, but by your diligently improving the circumstances of your own. Before you suffer the vagaries of your mind to go hunting after the costly dress, or the splendid equipage, or the liberal resources, or the high-sounding titles of Miss A. or Miss B., do look within, and around, and see how much you might im- prove your own condition by means quite within your y power. There are so many unexpensive pleasures and interesting pursuits, that I question whether any indi- vidual, intent on diligently employing his talents and opportunities, and improving the means of enjoyment within his own power, would ever find time, or inclina- tion, to envy others. It is interesting to mark the com- pensative goodness of God ; and did we constantly and duly consider our own condition, as compared with that of others, or with our own, at any other period of our lives, it would (end greatly to check the sinful disposi- tion to murmur. I recollect a young lady whose right hand was disfigured, being destitute of three fingers, but she was of a contented, cheerful disposition, and remark- ably assiduous in her endeavours to improve. She never looked at her infirmity with sullen mortification and de- spondency, but, made the best of it ; exerting herself to the utmost of her ability, and cheerfully and thankfully accepting the help of others : and such was the aptitude, THE BLIND WOMAN. 191 that, by habit and application, she acquired in the use of her left hand, and the thumb and little finger which con- stituted the right, that her performances in needle-work, writing, and drawing, would bear a comparison with those of any of her companions. I should think that when she left school she was perfectly capable of giving instruction in those branches, and certainly of engaging in all the ordinary duties of female life. The blind are generally endued with an exquisite quickness of touch and hearing, which, in some measure, compensates for the want of sight. In the days of my childhood, my father's fine plaited and ruffled shirts, and my own cam- bric frocks, were constantly ironed by a woman who was totally blind, and no person could surpass her in this kind of work. She was an inmate of an asylum for the relief of poor French refugees and their descendants ; and, be- ing an active woman, was frequently employed by her fel- low-inmates to procure their little errands. On these occa- sions, though perhaps employed by eight or ten different persons, she could accurately distinguish, by feeling, the identical piece of money that was given her by each, and would instantly detect either base coin, or articles of any kind which were inferior in quality to the price charged. Both grocers and linen drapers said there was not a better judge of goods came into their shops : " She is too know- ing to be cheated, and too honest to cheat any other per- son," was the testimony of all who had to do with her. She was also a pattern of Christian contentment and cheerfulness ; instead of murmuring at her privations, she was continually speaking of the goodness of God to her. " Only think, my dear," she would often say, " how merciful God Almighty has been to me, a poor, sinful creature, that when he saw fit to take away my 192 THE GIRL'S BOOK. eye-sight, he gave me such quickness of hearing, feeling, and smelling, as preserves me from running into danger myself, or injuring others, and enables me to get my living, and be of some use to others." Then she would sing — " When all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love and praise." Or, " Father, whate'er of earthly bliss Thy sov'reign will denies ; Accepted at thy throne of grace, Let this petition rise : — " Give me a calm and thankful heart, From every murmur free ; The blessings of thy grace impart, And make me live to thee. # "Let the sweet hope, that thou art mine, My life and death attend ; Thy presence through my journey shine, And crown my journey's end." Among other hints to my young friends, especially those at school, I would remind them of the distinction between generous emulation and base envy. Be ever ready to acknowledge and admire excellence in another, even though it may seem to cast your own character into the shade. Endeavour to excel, not from a spirit of ri- valry, but from a sense of the value of excellence. If you succeed in attaining distinction, do not indulge a spirit of ungenerous triumph ; if you do not gain the EMULATION AND ENVY. is: highest honours, be not envious at those who obtain them, and do not accuse of injustice those who award them ; but be satisfied with the consciousness of having done your best, and be encouraged and stimulated by the hope of being more successful next time. I recol- lect, on two occasions, taking a place in my class, when an uncomfortable feeling within, deprived me of almost all the pleasure of success, and which, even now, I 'think of with a kind of self-reproach. I had for many months stood second in the first class, for reading and spelling, and I had little prospect of rising the one step higher, as the young lady who maintained that station was reckoned almost infallible. Our daily exercise was to repeat a column or more from the dictionary, with spelling, parts of speech, and signification ; then to read ; and after that to spell, and give the signification of any word that occurred in our reading, as called upon by our governess. It happened that we read about Hector and Andromache ; now the young lady to whom I have al- luded, though in almost every respect a very clever girl, had no taste for poetry. In the course of the reading lesson was an allusion to Hector's plumed casque. Among other words, at the close of reading, my govern- ess called for the spelling and meaning of that word. Miss P. instantly replied, " c-a-s-k, a vessel to hold liquor." Almost breathless with astonishment and joy at this most unexpected incident, I uttered, " c-a-s-q-u-e, a helmet," and found myself placed at the summit of my ambition. But in an instant my joy was clouded when I saw the sorrowful countenance of her whom I had supplanted. At the close of the exercise, I offered to reinstate her in the station which she had, rather thought- lessly than ignorantly, forfeited ; but the offer was de- 17 194 THE GIRL'S BOOK. clined. I retained my elevation to the time of my leaving school, but I forfeited her friendship : and, though there was nothing unfair in the transaction, I never took my place above her without very mingled feelings. The other affair was in a French class. It was the first day of my entering that class, and of course I was placed at the bottom. A new French teacher had just entered on her duties; her representations and recommendations had grossly deceived my governess. She had under- taken to teach that of which she was grossly ignorant : I need not say she was soon detected and dismissed. However, her ignorance on that occasion was the cause of my (unjust) advancement. We were reading and translating a chapter in the New Testament. For the first forty verses all went on smoothly ; but as the girl at the top of the class read the forty-first, a word occur- red which she could not translate : it passed the next, and the next, and at last came down to me. It happen- ed that I recollected the word, but thought it was a word that ought not to be spoken, and concluded that that was the reason of its passing down to me : I determined, however, to make a bold effort, and at the same time abstain from pronouncing the obnoxious word ; a word occurred to my recollection of a diametrically opposite meaning, which, hit or miss, I ventured. " Ah," said the sagacious teacher, " take your place, my dear ; are you not ashamed, you great girls, to give place to a little thing like this 1 " Forthwith I was handed to a dis- tinction which I felt conscious I little deserved, and which I need hardly say was embittered by this con- sciousness. I mention these trifling circumstances, simply for the sake of urging on my young friends to seek excellence rather than eminence, and to be careful PRIDE OF CONNEXION. 195 that every distinction they enjoy is sweetened by a con- sciousness of having honourably earned it* * We believe, that in this country, the system of rewards, for- feits, and honorary distinctions, for the sake of exciting emula- tion, is fast going into disuse. There are few schools, now, com- paratively, where the practice is continued of having a "head" to classes, for this purpose. The instances here cited, strikingly il- lustrate the true operation of the system. The author of this book, and her friend, Miss P., were under a strong stimulus to exertion, but for what ? for their own improvement ? for progress in know- ledge ? or was it to attain the post of honour ? Some may think that both motives had their influence. Perhaps they did. But if so, the desire to stand at the " summit of" their " ambition," must have gained a most undesirable ascendency. Else the two young ladies would not have had their friendship broken, and their future intercourse embittered, by the mere circumstance of exchanging their places at the head of the class. We fear that in such cases generally, the great and controlling motive, is to be found in the spirit of rivalry. It is very possible, that better motives may act at the same time upon the heart of the competitors ; but it is not because this system, as ordinarily pur- sued, is calculated to encourage them. Our author might have had paramount in her mind, and in their due proportion, the desire for her own improvement, to gratify and requite her parents, to secure the approbation of her own conscience, to fit herself to be useful in life, and above all, to please God. But she was indebted, we believe, to other influences for these motives, than to those natural- ly resulting from this system. We are glad to find that the author has seen and felt its evil tendencies, and has endeavoured to guard against them. We cannot, however, but think, that the whole system is fraught with too much of evil and danger to the moral feelings, to be overbal- anced by any advantage likely to be gained from its additional spur to diligence and application. Besides, it seems to us, that the true motives to action to be held forth for the young and for all, are such only as the Bible supplies. It is true, God's government is a government of punishments and rewards. But then, the punishments and rewards are so adminis- 196 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Among the errors which I ought to caution my young friends, especially those at school, is a foolish pride of connexions. Who that has been accustomed to hear a set of school-girls chatter, has not often heard the vain, and sometimes unfounded boast, about the wealth and dignity of their parents, uncles and aunts, the number of servants they keep, and their utter distinction from all connexion with labouring people ? Such boasts, instead of ensuring the respect and homage at which they aim, only excite feelings of pity or contempt. And suppose it is true, my dear young friends, that you can number among your connexions the rich, and great, and noble, of the earth ; to whom are you indebted for this distinc- tion 1 Is it owing to any merit, or skill, or sagacity of your own 1 Was it even a matter of choice to yourself, whether you should be born in a hall of splendour, or in a hovel of poverty? "Who maketh thee to differ from another 1 and what hast thou that thou didst not receive ? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?" Let me remind you, also, that these distinctions do not necesssrily involve either wisdom, goodness, or respectability. A poor person, if he is wise and good, may be respected, beloved, and useful ; which a foolish and vicious person, however rich and great, cannot be. So, remember, you must tered, as neither to countenance or encourage, directly or indirect- ly, any of the bad passions of the heart. And moreover, the divine government implies that there is one standard, with which all the human family, in all possible circumstances and relations of life, are to compare their conduct, and regulate their lives. This system, on the contrary, seems to go upon the principle of "comparing themselves among themselves," "which is not wise." Ed. PRIDE OF CONNEXION. 197 make a character for yourself, and not think of leaning on that which is wholly independent of you ; ypu are in reality just what you would be if stripped of all these merely external honours. One word more. Before you boast of your superiority to others, in a lower station in life, just think how help- less you would be without them, and how much you lie at their mercy ; and before you boast, consider that in reality you are much more dependent on them than they are on you. Suppose, for a moment, that all the farmers, and butchers, and bakers, and manufacturers, and me- chanics, were to go out of the country ; what would the wealthy people do without them 1 Why they must either starve, or themselves become farmers, butchers, bakers, manufacturers, or mechanics. All classes of society are mutually dependent on each other: "The profit of the, earth is for all, and the king himself is served of the field." Let no one exalt himself or despise others, but each acquire true honour, by endeavouring faithfully to discharge the duties of his station, and subserve the welfare of all around him. Yice degrades the most exalted, and vir- tue ennobles the meanest. " Female curiosity," and " female tattling," have be- come almost proverbial. Let my dear young friends endeavour to wipe off this reproach from their sex : be assured these foibles always indicate littleness of mind. There are many of the male sex quite as inquisitive and as tattling as the most vain and giddy female ; and there are women of real greatnes and dignity of mind, who have neither time nor inclination to pry into the affairs of their neighbours, or to tattle about those of their family. Be it yours to add to their number. In order to this, have your mind early set upon what is really valuable and im-. 17* I 98 THE GIRL'S BOOK. portant, encourage the thirst after useful knowledge, which will set you above the mean and trifling things, and check that idle, impertinent, and mischievous curios- ity, which would be ever prying into things that are not worth knowing, which ought not to be known, or which it does not concern you to know. " There are two kinds of curiosity," says a celebrated philosopher, " one of them arising from interest, (or rather wisdom, discovered in its thirst for knowledge,) instigates us to become what may be useful ; the other arises from pride, and makes us eager to know what others are ignorant of." No good can result, and much evil may, from school-girls communicating to each other family affairs, with which they have no concern ; and if no immediate mischief arises from their indiscreet communications, the very propensity is injurious and disgraceful to themselves ; and if not early checked, will ripen as they advance in years, into that most contemptible character, a family gossip and mischief-maker. Be it yours, my dear young friends, to cultivate and possess that lovely characteristic of a virtuous woman — " She openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness." CHAPTER VIII. DRESS AND ADMIRATION. — A CONVERSATION. — RESPECTFUL DEMEANOUR TO PARENTS AND AGED PERSONS. — BROTHERS AND SISTERS. SERVANTS. — SCHOOL FRIENDSHIPS. — LETTER-WRITING. — EDUCATION AT HOME CON- DUCT TO A GOVERNESS. — SEMBLANCE OF VIRTUES. — MAGNANIMITY. — MAGNANIMITY AND MEEKNESS COMPATIBLE. — SENSIBILITY AND GENTLENESS CONTRASTED WITH AFFECTATION. — PRESENCE OF MIND. — HOLY SCRIP- TURES. — STUDY OF EVIDENCES. — ANECDOTE OF HUME CLAIMS. — RE- LIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS. DO NOT STIFLE OR RESIST THEM. — DO NOT PRO- CRASTINATE. — DO NOT REST IN MERE FEELING. — ENCOURAGEMENT. — CONSISTENCY. — PERSECUTION. — SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHING. — EDUCATION FINISHED. My young friends wished me particularly to say some- thing about dress and admiration : " You know, Mrs. White," said one of them, " we must pay some atten- tion to dress, and it is natural that we should desire to be amiable and beloved ; but then there is such a danger of running into pride and vanity ; I wish I knew exactly how far we ought to go in these particulars, and where we ought to stop." 20° THE GIRL'S BOOK. I know it is very difficult to set up an exact standard, nor is it at all necessary. True wisdom and self ac- quaintance will watch and discern the beginning of evil, and even the tendency to it, and will set the needful guard and restraint ; but if we indulge that which we per- ceive to be in the slightest degree injurious to ourselves, we may be assured that it is offensive in the sight of God, and will sooner or later make us disagreeable to our fel- low-creatures. Instead of troubling you with any grave remarks of my own on so delicate a subject, permit me to relate a breakfast-table conversation which I happen- ed to hear the morning after a party of young people had been assembled at the house of one of my friends. " Well, Mr. , I think we had on the whole a very pleasant evening. There is something very interesting in an assembled group of young persons." " Very much so ; especially when we consider the important character they are to sustain in respect to the next generation. As an old man, and an observer of human character, I could not help noticing its indications in the very different expression of countenance and manner manifested by ten or twelve young persons, of much the same rank in life, and on whom education, habit, and conformity to the forms of civilized society, produced a great outward similarity of behaviour." " I forget whether or not you are a phrenologist." " If I were, the abundant tresses of the young ladies would have effectually secured from observation the se- crets of the pericranium, but much of character may be learned from more visible indications — the eye, the lip, the hand, the turn of the neck." " 0, dear, sir, you are quite a physiognomist. Do tell me which you think express the greatest intelligence — blue eyes, or dark V 9 DRESS AND ADMIRATION. 201 " I really cannot say ; for I recollect among the group of last evening, two pair of blue eyes, and two pair of dark, which were as opposite as possible in expression : one pair of blue eyes expressed coldness, selfishness, and apathy ; the others were full of good humour and vivacity. But then, perhaps, the character was assigned not merely to the eye, but to the general demeanour.; the one pair belonged to a stiff, stately personage, whose whole attention seemed to be engrossed by herself, and in whom it seemed a painful exercise of condescension even to ac- cept the attention of others. The merry blue-eyed girl seemed all simplicity and benevolence : she accepted what was offered her with ease and cheerfulness, or de- clined it with a graceful politeness, and seemed naturally intent on promoting the gratification and comfort of oth- ers. You recollect how well she explained the peculi- arities of the flower to her two young companions. And, I hope you all observed, that in the midst of a merry tale which she was relating at the request of one of her friends, while all the merry group were laughing round her, she perceived that her aunt was suffering from the head-ache, and in an instant suppressed the laughter and suspended the tale, without the least appearance of effort or display. It seemed instinctive to her to consult the feelings of others. Well, then, one pair of the dark eyes seemed to express a soft, silly, languishing character. It semed as if the highest effort of the young lady's mind was to deck her pretty person, and to display her lily white hand, as a full certificate of freedom from the charge of doing any thing useful ; and the pretty min- cing lips could hardly open themselves wide enough to lisp, in answer to any rational question, 'I am sure I 202 THE GIRL'S BOOK. don't know.' The other dark eyes beamed with meek intelligence. More than once I observed them fixed, with modest attention, on the conversation of the elder part of the company, and sometimes glistening with ani- mation, while conversing with her younger companions, on the beauties of some favourite author, or the excel- lences of a common friend." " Well, that is very true, Mr. ; you seem quite to have taken the character of the young people. Now do tell me what you thought of those two young ladies who sat most of the evening on the sofa nearly opposite the mirror." " If I must speak my mind, I thought them both rather vain and empty, and carried away with the love of dress, though in a different way. The short girl seemed to have fallen into the vulgar error, that to be well dressed is to have heaped upon the person a profusion of tawdry, ill-assorted colours, and costly ornaments, without re- gard to a congruous and becoming whole. The taller young lady discovered more taste in the selection of her ornaments ; but then there was an evident effort to dis- play her person to advantage, and to attract admiration, which generally fails of its intention, and which always excites, in the minds of intelligent observers, feelings of regret, if not of disgust. There was one very lovely girl, in whose appearance and manners I felt particularly interested." " Do you mean Miss 1 She wore a lilac dress, and lilies in her hair ; she is reckoned a very pretty girl, and highly accomplished." " Oh no ! she may be pretty, but I thought her by no means agreeable ; and as to her accomplishments, what are they worth, if she is not willing to gratify her friends A CONVERSATION. 203 with them? Did you not observe, when requested to play and sing, how she made one affected excuse after another ; and though she refused to comply with the wishes of her friends, she was evidently mortified and chagrined that she was not forced into compliance, and that her refusal was accepted, and another was called out to gratify the company. The good tempered blue- eyed girl played. I was much pleased with her man- ners. There was no forwardness ; no affected timidi- ty ; no attempt to display her science or execution. She seemed entirely to forget herself, and simply came for- ward, did her best to gratify the wishes of'her friends, and then quietly retreated, as if unconscious of having merited their thanks or praise." " But we must make out this special favourite of yours. Do you mean a tall, thin girl, in white ? or one with au- burn hair, dressed in pale blue. " I really cannot describe her person ; and of her dress I have not the slightest recollection ; a proof, by the way, that there was nothing preposterous or glaring. I think she was of the middle stature ; and, if I mistake not, slightly marked with the small-pox. But it was the sweetness and intelligence of her aspect and manners that delighted me, the modesty and good sense of her remarks, her respectful and delicate attention to her mo- ther, and her kindness to her little sister, who seemed almost too young to associate with the rest of the party.'' " I know, now, who you mean ; and I am happy to say you have not been deceived by your first-sight im- pression of her aspect and manners. She is a truly ami- able and excellent girl ; even in her temper, industrious and steady in her pursuits, always endeavouring to im- prove herself, and to promote the comfort of others ; and 204 THE GIRL'S BOOK. in her dress always neat and genteel, but never fine or extravagant ; always deserving and commanding respect, but never seeking admiration." "lam happy in having been introduced to so estima- ble a young person, and should my life be spared a few years, I hope to see her adorn and bless the domestic circle with some worthy partner. Well, there were two or three young ladies who did not seem devoid of intelli- gence or good nature, but whose incessant rattling an- noyed the company, and made me tremble for their own brains. If brought under proper discipline, and espe- cially if they could be made aware of their malady, and brought to discipline themselves, I think these girls are not incurable ; but if, as in the natural tendency of things, they should go from bad to worse, I pity the poor men who shall be tied to such mill-clacks, and the families that shall be governed by such rattle-brains. There was one young lady who seemed rather to affect a studied singu- larity of dress and manners. This I was sorry to ob- serve, for affectation is always odious and dangerous — and there is generally as much pride in singularity and opposition to innocent and becoming modes of dress, ac- cording to our rank in society, as there is in following to the extreme such as are vain and foolish." " Pray, what is your opinion as to the rules of female dress, especially as applied to Christian females ? You know two of the apostles have given directions on this subject ; and each says, f not ' with outward ornaments, but with ' good works,' ' the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.' See 1 Tim. ii. 9, 10 ; 1 Pet. iii. 3,4. Do you suppose that ornaments are altogether excluded, or only that they are to be regarded as far inferior to the graces of the mind and heart I " A CONVERSATION. 205 u Without giving a direct answer to that question, which would not be a very easy task, I think the injunc- tions of these apostles are much more decided than is generally understood, judging from the attire of many professors of religion. The apostles could not mean less than to prohibit in Christian females a conformity to the vain and fantastic fashions of the world, which would in- dicate levity and frivolity of mind, inconsistent with their profession of supreme regard to the things of eternity ; any thing inconsistent with the strictest modesty and deli- cacy ; any thing that should involve a needless consump- tion of time or property on empty decorations, which their circumstances in life do not warrant, which their Chris- tian profession condemns, and which the claims of God and their fellow-creatures demand for far nobler purpo- ses ; and any attempt to excite or retain the affections of others by mere attention to personal decorations and at- tractions, to the neglect of the inward graces of the mind and temper. It certainly may be expected that Christian women should choose to appear rather more simple and plain in their attire, than others of their own rank. The best cure for the love of dress will be found in a mind elevated above such empty trifles ; in having the heart, the hands, and the time engaged in nobler pursuits. The ornaments of meekness, benevolence, and piety, are far more valuable, estimable, and durable, than the most costly robes and brilliant gems ; and the most graceful attire is simplicity." If the old gentleman's remarks on dress and demean- our, should answer the inquiries, and rightly direct the movements of my young friends, they will not blame me for introducing the breakfast-table conversation. I have sometimes observed among the failings of 18 206 THE GIRL'S BOOK, young persons, a pertness and flippancy of manner, which appeared to me very unamiable ; a snappish way of an- swering a superior ; a harsh or scornful tone to persons in humble life ; a contemptuous impatience under admo- nition or reproof; and a disposition to ridicule any pecu- liarity in person, dress, or manners. Oh, it has grieved me more than I can express, to hear a rude boy burst into a loud laugh at the mildly-expressed, but mistaken answer of a deaf grandmother ; or to see a dim-sighted mother striving to thread her needle, while two or three daughters sat by without offering to assist her. But I will turn from the painful to the pleasing side of the pic- ture, and say I have felt emotions of pleasure, that I can- not describe, in witnessing the delicate and respectful at- tention of some young persons to their parents ; how readily their wishes were complied with, and even anti- cipated; with what reverence their instructions were treasured up, and their cautions regarded ; how promptly the supporting arm of a dutiful daughter was presented to sustain the feeble steps of a beloved mother; and the watchfulness and assiduity of an affectionate girl to place for her venerable father every little accustomed comfort within reach, just at the proper time — the warm slippers, the loose coat, the sofa pillow, the'footstool, the specta- cles, the Bible. " Dear young people !" my heart has as- pired, " may you be thus respectful, affectionate, and du- tiful to parents, as in the Lord, and heirs of that faithful promise annexed to such obedience !" When these lovely dispositions exist, it is almost unnecessary to remind my young friends that they are to be exercised towards others besides their immediate parents. They will be manifested in a respectful deportment towards the aged in general ; in kindness and humanity towards the poor BROTHERS AND SISTERS. 207 and dependent, and in gentleness and sympathy towards those afflicted with mental or bodily infirmities. Allow a hint as to your intercourse with brothers and sisters. Much of your happiness in future life will de- pend on the dispositions you cultivate and exercise to- wards those with whom you are now most intimately connected on a footing of equality. Yalue the precious hours of intercourse, whether stated or occasional, under the parental roof, and cultivate those affectionate friend- ships which ought to endure through life. When once a family begins to separate for the purposes of education, business, or family connexion, it is surprising to reflect how little subsequent intercourse can be calculated upon ; how very seldom, and for how short a period, all the mem- bers of a numerous family meet together after the first separation. It is, therefore, of great importance, that affection should be so firmly cemented and rivetted, as not to be unsettled by absence or distance. Guard, therefore, my dear young friends, against whatever would have a tendency to alienate. See that you neither pro- voke, nor display, nor resent, those petty irritations of temper, from which the best and happiest families are not altogether free ; harbour no mean jealousies about personal advantages, parental favour, or general admira- tion. Indulge no shyness, coldness, and reserve ; no backwardness to comrrrunicate your little secrets at home, and ungenerously to cultivate friendships and intimacies abroad. Endeavour to bring the affectionate intercourse of the family under the blessed influence of genuine piety. Love one another " in the Lord." Lay to heart each other's spiritual interests. Read the book of God together ; kneel together at the throne of grace ; take 20S THE GIRL'S BOOK. sweet counsel together on the good things of Christ's kingdom ; and seek constantly that sacred influence which shall mark you as heirs together of the grace of life, so that your happy parents, or delighted observers shall exclaim, " Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! There the Lord hath commanded the blessing, even life for ever- more." O my dear young friends, how richly would my labour be repaid, and how would my heart be gladdened, if any thing that I can say should be made the means, under the Divine blessing, of inducing you to seek the religion of the heart. It is that at which I am, and nothing less will satisfy me. This would be the spring of whatever is becoming, lovely, and praiseworthy, in every relation and condition in life. It would not, however, supersede the use of particular admonitions. True religion inclined the heart to duty, but it is nevertheless necessary that duty should be set before the understanding : this leads me to add yet another remark or two on relative pro- prieties. In the family, be kind in your behaviour towards ser- vants. Never indulge in a scornful domineering man- ner towards them, but let your wishes be expressed with civility and mildness. Exercise a humane consideration towards them ; do not unnecessarily add to their fatigues by your caprice or indolence. I knew a lady who ac- customed herself to consider before she rang the bell, " How is the servant who should answer it at this mo- ment engaged 1 Is it worth while to interrupt her busi- ness, or add to her fatigue, for what would do just as well an hour or two hence when she is more at leisure* SERVANTS. 209 or which I might just as well do for myself?" Young ladies would do well thus to take themselves to task- On the other hand, I have known a bell ring, and fetch a servant from the top to the bottom of the house, or from her wash-tub, or ironing-board, who, when she appeared at the parlour door, received an order to fetch the young lady's work-bag, or gloves ; or perhaps the answer, "You are not wanted now ; we have altered our minds." The Queen of George II. observing that one of her daughters obliged one of the ladies of her bedchamber to read aloud in a standing position, and discovered no consideration for her weariness and indisposition, the following even- ing directed the young princess to stand and read aloud to her. After continuing the unaccustomed exercise for a considerable time, the queen applied the practical re- proof, and urged on her daughter the duty of humanity to all around her, whom, as she justly reminded her, God had made of the same blood as her own, and liable to the same susceptibilities of weariness and pain. Be not unreasonable in your requirements of servants or work- people. Some young ladies delay their orders to an unreasonable time, and then demand that they should be immediately executed ; and are exceedingly offended if their demands are not complied with. Surely, if you act thus, you have never learnt, or have awfully for- gotten the sacred maxim, " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you* do ye even so unto them." While inculcating kindness and humanity to persons employed by you, let me, however, caution you against an improper familiarity with servants. They are not to be your chosen companions, the depositaries of your se- crets, or the agents in your schemes for obtaining unal- lowed indulgences* The young lady who can make the, 18* 210 THE GIRL'S BOOK. slightest advance towards familiarity of this kind, has sadly forgotten her duty to her parents and herself, and will, in all probability, plunge herself into mischief and distress. A word about the friendships of youth. Young per- sons are ardent in their attachments, but they often want stability. Some "inseparable" and "unchangeable" friendships between school girls have not outlived one month of separation ; a proof that they were without any solid foundation. Thrown together by circumstances, and perhaps possessing some congeniality of feeling about trifles, and some little community of interests, they fancied that they felt a strong and unalterable attachment ; but the result proves that there was no real union of mind and soul. The mind had not been exercised on those subjects which give perpetuity to every thing with which they come in contact. Some early friendships are mischievous, as are all associations in evil. If, instead of " provoking one another to love and to good works, these young companions should ex- cite and encourage each other in what is wrong, their friendship will probably soon be dissolved, but the ill ef- fects may remain through future life. It may perhaps be forgotten among the many steps which lead to a fatal result, but every one of which will be painfully recalled another day ; or it may be remembered with deep regret and remorse among the sins and follies of childhood and youth, which become, to the Christian, a matter of daily penitential confession and supplication : " O remember not against me the sins of my youth, nor my transgres- sions. According to thy mercy, remember thou me, for thy goodness' sake, Lord ! " But there are some early friendships which prove truly SCHOOL FRIENDSHIPS. 211 beneficial, and which are matured and cemented in after life. Such friendships originate in genuine and conge- nial excellencies of character, and are made subservient to the promotion of those excellencies. Changing cir- cumstances do not destroy or weaken such genuine at- tachments ; nor are they interrupted by the operations of any mean or selfish passions. Genuine friendship ex pels envy, jealousy, and rivalry. It is instructive to ob- serve the progress of friendship between David and Jo- nathan. " The modesty, piety, and courageous faith of David were so congenial to the character of Jonathan, that they at first attracted his most cordial esteem and affection, and from that time the most endeared friendship subsisted between them, notwithstanding the knowledge which Jonathan had of David's destined ele- vation, as he might consider, at his expense. This dis- interested friendship was the effect of the grace of God, which produces, in all true believers, one heart and soul, and causes them to delight in each other's converse and comfort. Yet similarity of disposition, and the coinci- dence of the extraordinary services which, in the courage of faith, they had performed, served to render their reci- procal affection peculiarly fervent and intimate."* The most tender and unbroken sympathy and fidelity charac- terized these amiable friends ; they took sweet counsel together, and strengthened each other's hands in God, amidst the most turbulent and trying scenes of human life : and the survivor perpetuated the memory of his be- loved friend by the expressions of genuine grief, and by remarkable kindness to his remaining offspring. Such has been the model of some interesting friendships com- * Scott. 212 THE GIRL'S BOOK. menced in early life. Either based upon, or cemented by early piety, similarity of disposition and pursuit wrought a growing identity between the kindred spirits, favoured, perhaps, by some seemingly smalt coinci- dences ; such as companionship in a class, in a bed- chamber, or in a fit of illness. Together, the youthful students have explored the sacred page, and bent at the footstool of mercy. They have confided to each other their varied exercises of mind, their spiritual anxieties, discouragements, perplexities, temptations, hopes, and consolations. The stronger has borne the infirmities of the weak ; the vigorous has encouraged the timid ; and the circumspect has cautioned the unwary. Such a friendship will outlive a mere school connexion ; such friends will not be unmindful of each other, however widely circumstances may separate them. Sweet inter- course will occasionally be maintained ; mutual sym- pathy will be exercised ; and the delightful recollections of childish attachment will be interwoven with glorious anticipations of the full maturity and unbroken duration of friendship in the skies. Not unconnected with this subject is that of letter- writing, on which I venture a passing remark or two. Some girls discover an utter repugnance to letter-wri- ting. I have known even a few lines to an affectionate parent regarded as a formidable task, put off from day to day ; and at last encountered with a sort of vacancy and terror. " 0, dear ! what shall I do ? I must write this letter : What shall I say 1 Do tell me something to say in my letter. " Perhaps my young friends can scarcely give me credit when I affirm, that such a diffi- culty has been made of such a trifle. I can only assure LETTER- WRITIN G, 213 them, that in the days of my childhood, I have often heard such pitiful lamentations. I have even seen tears blotting the preparatory sketch on the slate ; and have often known a dozen pins, a yard of riband, or even a queen cake, bartered for a sentence of a letter. But I hope such doings are obsolete, and that my young friends now-a-days find no difficulty in expressing the feelings of their heart to those they love. Should, however, any traces of this kind of reluctance remain in the young folks of the present generation, I would recommend them not to suffer the growth of a habit, which, whatever spe- cious form it may assume of modesty and self-diffidence, originates in pride and indolence. Do not regard the writing of a letter as an occasion for the display of your cleverness, or for the exposure of your deficiencies, but simply as a duty to be performed ; and you will soon go about it as easily us you would tie your frock, or mend your stockings ; but if you now suffer yourself to regard the writing of a letter as a formidable affair, it will pro- bably remain so through life, and you will often be ex- posed to inconvenience and disgrace. The great thing to make letter-writing easy and agreeable is to cul- tivate simplicity. Make no attempt at finery. Just say what you may have to say, and close. Your letter, how- ever short, will be long enough. You will perhaps smile, and think I am easily pleased, if I copy a letter with which I was very much gratified, and which led me to conclude that the little writer would never be likely to consider letter- writing a burden. You will suppose it was from a very little girl. It is written in printing let- ters, the words divided by a cross. " Dear + mother + I + hope + you -f are + we N + I + got + here + safe + Aunt + is + well + 1 + 214 THE GIRL'S BOOK. want + a + night-gown + Mr. B.+ has + asked -f me + to + go + to + Weymouth + Mrs. B.-f has + got -J- a + pretty + baby -f- named + James + Mrs. B. -f- has + got -r seven + more + children + at + home -f Mr. B. + is + a + preacher + I + hope + the + kitten + has + been + fed + I + shall + be + glad to + see + you -f- 1 -j- am + your + dutiful + daugh- ter." However simple, the real expression of wants, feel- ings, and sentiments, is the essence of good letter-wri- ting; all beyond is as empty and valueless as a soap bubble. Some young ladies, I am apt to think, need an oppo- site caution. They are too fond of letter-writing, they devote far too much time to it, and write without real occasion. The mere circumstance of an opportunity of sending is enough to call forth a sheet full of flimsy sen- timent, crossed and crossed again. I am afraid these letters often contain high-flown and unnecessary profes- sions of regard, and regret at absence, which subsequent coolness and forgetfulness painfully contradict. I cannot help even suspecting that where young persons are accus- tomed to communicate on religious subjects, there may be a dangerof their expressing rather more than is reallyfelt I am far from accusing any young correspondent of de- liberate hypocrisy, but would suggest a word of caution, lest when a letter must be decently filled, and religious subjects must be decently alluded to, there may not be a danger of saying things as a matter of course, rather than of genuine feeling and sincere inquiry. Those who know most of the devices of Satan, and the treachery of the human heart, will be least disposed to accuse me of un- charitableness in this. Shall I add one word more? All apologies for " haste," " want of time," " scrawls," EDUCATION AT HOME. 215 or " scribbles," at the close of a four or seven-sided epis- tle, and all " entreaties that the letter may not be shown," seem to me deviations from the simplicity of friendship that imparts a real transcript of the writer's mind, to that of a friend, and overlooks every other consideration. I have seen such apologies and such requests at the close of a letter, evidently written with the most studied pomp of diction, and in which, if it had not been shown, the writer would have lost her reward. I have also noticed some letters which were full of dashes, under almost every third word : surely such emphatic young ladies deserve an emphatic censure. Some of my young friends, probably, are pursuing their education at home, under the direction of a private governess. I cannot close without a hint to them. Much has been said on both sides of the question, whe- ther an education conducted at home or at school is pre- ferable. The point is not easily decided : and whatever preference may be felt, persons are not always in cir- cumstances to follow them. Perhaps it is not of half so much importance which mode of education is adopted, as that the individual to whom the charge is entrusted be really qualified for the important task, and that her en- deavours be steadily and conscientiously seconded by the parents, and acquiesced in and approved by the pu- pil. As to the two former particulars, it may fairly be concluded that your parents discharge their duty ; that they have selected a lady worthy of their confidence ; that they cherish and manifest to her that respect which is essential to maintain her comfort and authority in the family ; and that they consult and co-operate with her in all her plans and designs for your good. Your governess, it is taken for granted, is one who lives in the fear of God 216 THE GIRL'S BOOK. in a sense of her own responsibility, and duly appreci- ating the immense importance of your intellectual cul- ture, moral correctness, and immortal interests, above the mere tinsel of superficial accomplishments. It re- mains, my dear young friends, that you be conscien- tiously concerned to discharge your own duties, and im- prove your advantages. In the first place, cherish a most affectionate and res- pectful regard for your governess. Look upon her as the friend of your parents, and your benefactor and friend. Receive her instructions with docility and gratitude, and never indulge a thought of murmuring at her require- ments, or seeking of your parents a dispensation, or of appealing to them from her censures. It is impossible that you should be benefitted by the labours of one of whom you entertain low and disparaging views. I re- collect hearing a lively girl say, " I always look upon the governess as a sort of upper servant, who had au- thority to keep me in order (if she could) when my pa- rents were out of the way ; but who, in their presence, had no authority at all ; and whenever I had any unplea- sant task to perform, or wanted to get a holiday, or es- cape a punishment, it was only to get on the blind side of papa or mamma." The governess thus disparaging- ly treated was a most excellent lady, and often wept over the impossibility of succeeding in her important engage- ment while thus cruelly thwarted. The parents, in this instance, were at least as much to blame as the pupil ; but wherever the blame rested, the pupil was ruined. Among your peculiar advantages, which I hope you will appreciate and improve, is the constant society of your governess, and the opportunity of more direct per- sonal instruction and explanation than is usually enjoyed CONDUCT TO A GOVERNESS. 217 in schools. You can, therefore, learn things very tho- roughly ; mention your difficulties, and have them solved, and clear every step as you go. You will also have op- portunities of instructive miscellaneous conversation ; which, if you duly improve them, will be truly valuable. I know not any exercise more improving than that of conversation with a judicious, experienced, and pious friend. Such is your privilege " when you sit in the house, and when you walk by the way ; when you lie down, and when you rise up." But as every situation has its distinguishing advanta- ges, so there will be found some privations and disad- vantages. You have not the stimulus of emulation and example in your pursuits. You must therefore espe- cially guard against sluggishness and inertness ; culti- vate habits of application in every good pursuit, set your standard of attainment high, and do not rest satisfied in falling short of it. You have not the trials of temper and firmness which attend a school life, where there is intercourse with many young persons of different dispo- sitions. Be the more careful to act upon established principle. Let not your outward freedom from passion or envy arise merely from the absence of temptation to do wrong. Watch yourself very closely, and you will, perhaps, detect yourself in snappish manners, or petu- lant tones towards a servant, a little brother or sister, or perhaps even an irrational or inanimate thing. Let this convince you that you have the seeds of evil in your heart, which only require occasion to call them forth, and on account of which you ought deeply to humble your- self before God — "that stupid girl!"' "this provoking dog !" " this tiresome work !" or " this good-for-nothing pen !" or any such exclamation, abundantly proves that 19 218 THE GIRL'S BOOK. if placed in the society of your equals, you have enough peevishness and irritability to stir up a quarrel. As the attention of your governess and your parents is concentrated on you, there is a great danger of your indulging feelings of pride, conceit, and self-importance, which will prove a bar to improvement, and render you disagreeable and ridiculous when you go into society. Nor is this all : those feelings are exceedingly criminal in the sight of God, and as such, I trust you will guard against them, and continually pray for humility and low- liness of mind. • While you cultivate your opportunities for general improvement, never forget your immortal interests. These excite the most lively concern in the minds of your pious parents and instructers. They are continu- ally seeking, and may you be taught to seek, the guid- ance of the Father of lights, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift. Outward accomplishments can- not compensate for perverseness of temper and corrup- tion of heart. These excite in your friends far more concern and apprehension than mere awkwardness or bashfulness ; and whatever may be your attainments, your friends cannot be satisfied, nor ought you, without the possession of "the one thing needful." I have a memorandum to guard you against the spe- cious semblance of virtues. There is nothing more common than to mistake a proud, lofty, and rebellious spirit for magnanimity, and affectation or timidity, for gentleness and sensibility. In these particulars, guard my young friends, against deceiving yourselves, or at- tempting to impose on others. Think not that there is any thing like true greatness in spurning at little obliga- tions, in scorning inferiours, in lavishing property, in re- SEMBLANCE OF VIRTUES. 219 senting injuries, or in spurning control. These things are often apologized for with, " She is a noble, high- spirited girl. Her faults are those of a great mind." No such thing ; they are the faults of a little grovelling mind, concentred in itself, and regardless of the claims of oth- ers. Magnanimity consists in the exercise of great and noble principles, and habitually applying them, even to the little enjoyments and trials of every-day life. The great mind dares aspire to the glories and bliss of eter- nity, but it dares not disregard the smallest duty that the word of God enjoins, or that the claims of fellow- creatures require. Magnanimity is perfectly compatible with meekness, though often by mistake set in opposi- tion to it. Indeed, it will generally be found that those who are the most punctual and unassuming in the dis- charge of the humble duties of life, those who most un- repiningly bear pain, privation, and provocation, when brought into circumstances that call for extraordinary exertion, will discover energy of mind, boldness of en- terprise, fortitude, constancy and perseverance in devi- sing, adapting, and executing noble and suitable de- signs ; while false greatness, in the time of difficulty and danger, proves but empty bluster and real imbecility : stillest streams Oft water fairest meadows ■ and the bird That flutters least, is longest on the wing." In these particulars, females have not unfrequently been found to equal, if not to surpass, men. Who that reads the life of Lady Russel, or that of Mrs. Judson, can doubt whether magnanimity be a female attainment? Yet in making this remark, let me remind my young friends that greatness is not attained in attempting to be 220 THE GIRL'S BOOK. great or singular, but in carefully storing our minds with whatever may expand and purify them ; gathering our principles from the only correct and elevated standard — the word of God ; habitually acting upon these princi- ples, and maintaining a steady course of self-control and self-discipline ; filling well the circle assigned us, how- ever small, and venturing forth at the clear call of duty, and in dependence on the strength of God, to the most difficult and arduous undertakings. Daniel's magna- nimity was discovered in his abstinence from the luxu- rious dainties of a heathen court, as well as in his daring to meet a group of hungry lions. In both instances, his magnanimity was sustained by faith and guided by duty. Sensibility and gentleness are still more commonly classed among feminine virtues, and not less frequently assumed by some spurious semblance. " Sensibility,!' it has been justly observed, " is a word in the mouth of every one, and a quality which every one affects to pos- sess ; but it is often mistaken and abused, and employed as a cover to capricious humours, and sometimes to the gratification of selfish passions." I really have not pa- tience to hear of the " extreme sensibility" of those who discover it only by screaming at the sight of an innocent spider or frog, while they caress a spiteful monkey, or a mischievous lap-dog — by fainting at the sight of blood, and turning away from distress which they might relieve, lest the sight should " hurt their feelings " — by pouting and whimpering at the slightest failure of attention which they imagine due to their dear insignificant selves, and by weeping at fictitious distress, while they are callous and indifferent to the scenes of real misery around them. This is not sensibility, but detestable affectation; that, as it has been well expressed, which prompted a se,nti- PRESENCE OF MIND. 221 mental writer " to weep over a dead ass, and suffer a living mother to perish for want ;" but it will always be found that the shadow is courted just in proportion as the real substance is wanting. Genuine sensibility, indeed, imparts gentleness of manners ; but not affected lisping softness, not artificial courtesy, which speaks fair, and bids welcome, where real dislike is felt, and contemptuous ridi- cule indulged to the absent. It may be given as a never- failing characteristic, that affectation is always selfish, sensibility always generous and diffusive ; it goes out of itself for its object and its aliment ; it is native feeling, heightened and improved by principle ; it is founded on a sense of our own dependence, weakness, wants, and failings, and of the relations and claims of others ; it ex- cites a generous sympathy in the sorrows and pleasures of others. There is sweet sensibility manifested in the smile of a patient sufferer, on witnessing others enjoying pleasures of which she cannot partake ; and in that tear for the wants or miseries of others, which is deemed no unwelcome intruder on the fulness of personal bliss. Sensibility imparts a delicacy of feeling with respect to others ; it will influence the manner of conferring or re- ceiving a favour, or administering a reproof; it will sup- press even the slightest alluaon that might inflict unne- cessary pain, any officious and indelicate prying into the affairs of others, any request that must necessarily, in the circumstances of the case, inflict the pain of a refu- sal ; it will never irritate, but soothe, and, if possible, relieve ; it will powerfully influence to the proper dis- charge of every relative and social duty, and give ex- quisite delight in the performance. There was a pretty little ditty set to music, which was a 19* 222 THE GIRL'S BOOK. great favourite in my young days. I hope it has not gone quite out of fashion : it is this, — Said a Smile to a Tear On the cheek of my dear, As it beam'd like the sun in spring weather, " In sooth, lovely Tear, It strange does appear, That we should be both here together." " I came from the heart, A soft balm to impart To yonder sad daughter of grief;" " And I," said the Smile, " That heart to beguile, Since you gave the poor mourner relief." " O then," said the Tear. " Sweet Smile it is clear We are twins, and soft Pity our mother ; And how lovely that face "Which together we grace, For the wo or the bliss of another !" A hint not altogether unconnected with the foregoing, is to recommend to my young friends the cultivation of a habit of presence of mind. There are many emergencies daily occurring in which thp preservation of life may be suspended on such an attainment : and females, perhaps, are more frequently called to its exercise than men. Accustom yourselves to exercise common sense ; attend to, and recollect, or persevere in writing, any useful ex- pedient, suggested by persons of skill and experience; as opportunity offers, familiarize yourself with scenes of suffering and distress ; observe what is done by others ; inquire into the reasons of their conduct ; convince your- self that it is rational and suitable ; and thus store your- HOLY SCRIPTURES. 223 self with the capacity for usefulness when occasion may- require . In case of fire, for want of presence of mind many lives have often been sacrificed by the neglect of proper means, and some have been lost through terror ; while by calm self-possession, promptitude, and energy, some females, instead of being helpless burdens, have been successfully employed in contriving and effecting the rescue of persons and property. Once more, I re- peat, true feminine gentleness is distinct from, and op- posed to affected softness and timidity. Let me earnestly recommend to my dear young friends to cultivate suitable love and reverence for the Holy Scriptures. Be not content to read the Bible as a task- book. Indeed, I regret when it is thus employed, — I mean when children, who are just beginning to put syl- lables together, are compelled to spell out the words of Holy Scripture, before they can understand its sacred and delightful import ; especially when the committing a portion of Scripture to memory is inflicted by way of a punishment. I would much rather, (perhaps I may pre- sume to say that such has been my practice, which I have not seen reason to regret,) read or repeat to a little child some simple touching story of Scripture, and make it fa- miliar with its sacred truths, quite apart from the me- chanical exercise of reading; and stimulate and encour- age attention, diligence, and perseverance in that pursuit, by the promise of being permitted, as a reward, to read for itself that most delightful of all books. But I am now addressing young people of an ago to whom these re- marks do not exactly apply. You have long since been accustomed to read the Bible with ease and propriety ; in all probability, you daily read a portion in your school exercises ; and read, or hear a portion at family worship ; 224 THE GIRL'S BOOK. but be not content with this. Accustom yourselves daily to read a portion alone, for the purposes, of self-ex- amination and devotion. I would farther suggest the desirableness of getting a collected and comprehensive view of its sacred contents. Study alike, and with self- application, its doctrines, precepts, and promises. Be correctly familiar with history, prophecy, and fulfilment. In this interesting study, you may avail yourself of many valuable helps ; and never forget the petition, " Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law!" I would farther recommend you to familiarize your- self with the leading evidences of Christianity. There may be a time when you will find it very desirable to " know the certainty of those things in which you have been instructed, either to repel the sophistry of a scoffer, or to satisfy and tranquillize your own mind. I do not wish to prompt you to disputation or display ; but I think it highly important, not only that you should receive the truth in the love of it, but that your minds should be tho- roughly established in the present truth. You have pro- bably met with a well-authenticated anecdote of the celebrated skeptic, Hume, and you may recollect it with advantage when perusing some passages of his History of England. The infidel philosopher was dining at the house of an intimate friend. After dinner, the ladies withdrew, and in the course of conversation, Hume made some assertion, which caused a gentleman present to observe to him, " If you can advance such sentiments as those, you certainly are, what the world gives you credit for being, an infidel." A little girl whom the philoso- pher had often noticed, and with whom he had become a favourite, by bringing her little presents of fruit and RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS. 225 sweetmeats, happened to be playing in the room un- noticed. She, however, listened to the conversation, and on hearing the above expression, left the room, went to her mother, and eagerly asked, " Mamma, what is an infidel]" " An infidel! my dear," replied her mother; " why should you ask me such a question I an infidel is so awful a character, that I scarcely know how to answer you." " Oh, do tell me, mamma," returned the child ; "I want to know what an infidel is." Struck with her eagerness, her mother at length replied, " An infidel is one who believes there is no God, no heaven, no hell, no hereafter." Some days afterwards, Hume again visited the house of his friend. On being introduced to the parlour, he found no one there but his favourite little girl. He went to her, and attempted to take her up in his arms, and kiss her, as he had been accustomed to do ; but the child shrunk with horror from his touch. " My dear," said he, " what is the matter ? do I hurt you V* " No," she replied, " you do not hurt me, but I cannot kiss you, — I cannot play with you." " Why not, my dear V y " Because you are an infidel." " An infidel! what is that?" " One who believes that there is no God, no heaven, no hell, no hereafter." " And are you not then very sorry for me, my dear?" asked the astonished phi- losopher. " Yes, indeed, I am very sorry," returned the child with solemnity, " and pray to God for you." " Do you, indeed, and what do you say V' " I say, God, teach this man that thou art ." What a striking evidence of the intrinsic power of Divine truth! and what a beautiful illustration of the words of Scripture, " Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou hast ordain- ed strength, that thou mightest still the enemy and the stranger ?" *4% THE GIRL'S BOOK. But my dear young friends, I must add one word more on the subject to which I have alluded : I have re- commended to you an acquaintance with the evidences of Scripture ; remember they involve the authority of Scripture too. It is not enough that you speculatively believe that the Bible is true ; you must yield your soul to its control and guidance. That was very correct reasoning of the Jewish priests and scribes, when Jesus appealed to them whether the baptism of John was from heaven or of men — they " reasoned with themselves, saying, if we shall say, from heaven, he will say, Why did ye not then believe him 2" There is no warding off the self-application of our own admissions. If you believe the Bible to be true, then you are by nature in the wretch- ed, ruined condition which it describes ; you have broken the law of God, and are under its condemnation, and there is no way of salvation for you, but in Jesus Christ, whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation for our sins. But, my dear young friends, do ;you lay these things to heart] Have you ever trembled on account of your condition before God 1 Is the burden of your sins grievous and distressing to you? and have you " fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before you in the gos- pel?" You are told, in Scripture, that your hearts are de- ceitful and depraved, incapable of thinking a good thought, or suggesting a good action. If you believe this testimony, do you earnestly seek the influences of the Holy spirit, to whom you are directed as the source of every good gift, for renovation, cleansing, strength and grace 1 In Scripture, you are taught to take a very diffe- rent view of the world from that which worldly men en- tertain ; you are told that it is empty, unsatisfactory, pol- luted, and transient ; that it can never give satisfaction RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS, 227 and happiness to an immortal mind ; and that it would " profit you nothing if you should gain the whole world, and lose your own soul." If this testimony is believed, has it so operated upon you as to wean you from the vain pleasures and pursuits of the world, and to lead you to aspire after spiritual, substantial, and everlasting joys 1 If you have read the Bible, and believe it to be, as it is in deed and in truth, the word of God, your own conscience must admit that these effects ought to be produced, — and will, and must be produced, or your knowledge of the Bible will only add to your condemnation. Let me en- treat you, my beloved young friends, do not stifle religi- ous convictions ; truths may be presented to you which would give you uneasiness and alarm on account of your past course, and which would disturb you in your present frivolity and gayety ; yet do not reject the faithful moni- tor. Remember the profane and dissolute monarch, who, when the threatenings of God against sin were read before him, snatched the roll from the hands of the reader, cut it up with his penknife, and threw it into the fire : but did this alter the fact, that the threatenings were gone forth 1 or did it bring peace to his guilty conscience ? No such thing, — the awful threatenings were confirmed and enlarged : the prophet was commanded to take another roll, and write in it all the words of the former, " and there were added, besides, unto them many like words," all of which, not long after, met their accomplishment, Jer. xxxvi. " He that being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without remedy." But there is a more specious danger, against which I must warn you. Do not delay attention to those things which your conscience tells you claim your attention. 228 THE GIRL'S BOOK. Think not, " I am but young, it is time enough to think about serious things ; a few years hence it would not seem so hard to give up pleasure for religion ; I am quite sensible of the importance of religion, and fully intend to give my mind to it; but not just yet." Ah, my dear young friends, this is a most grievous self-delusion. If the safety of your immortal soul depends on your sub- mission to Christ, how can you venture to delay for years, or months, when you have no security for living a single day 1 Most probably you recollect the death of some relative, or friend, as young as yourself; if not, go ex- amine the tomb-stones, and you will not have long to seek for a memorial of your own date. Now realize the thought, " If that young person gave herself up to God, she is now forever safe and happy, and has never once repented that she became religious too early ; but if she delayed to do it, calculating on long life, she deceived herself, she ruined her own soul, and will forever bewail the consequences of her procrastinating folly." I know it is painful to make any thing like a personal applica- tion, but it is too easy to ward off the edge of general truth. It will be safe and wise, however painful, to make a still closer application, and say, " / must embrace the salvation of the gospel, now, this day, this hour, or else I have no security that I shall not to-morrow lift up my eyes in the world of wo. But the shortness and uncertainty of life is not the only argument by which to press your immediate attention to the concerns of your soul ; there is a fearful danger of the heart becoming hardened by procrastination. Felix, the Roman judge, was once the subject of strong con- victions ; he trembled under the same solemn truths that are continually addressed to you. Oh, had he yielded DO NOT PROCRASTINATE. 229 to the salutary impression, and exercised repentance to- wards God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, how al- tered would have been his future course through life, and how blessed his prospects for eternity ! But — he " put off for the present " that of which he saw the importance. He said, " Go thy way for this time, and when I have a convenient season I will call for thee ; " but, as far as we know, the " convenient season " never came ; he never trembled again ; he inquired no more concerning the faith of Christ : but when he afterwards came in contact with the faithful apostle, was intent only on balancing the probabilities of gain from the enemies of the apostle for detaining him, or endeavouring to obtain money from the friends of the apostle for releasing him. Many, many affecting instances are on record of persons who, in the days of their youth, were the subjects of religious impres- sions, but delayed attending to the things that belonged to their everlasting peace, and so remained through life callous and insensible. I must allude to another mistake of the procrastinator who acts under the infatuation of the father of lies. Why do you wish to delay 1 Is religion a good thing to be enjoyed, or an evil thing to be endured? If the former, can you begin too soon to be happy 1 But the plea al- leged for delay intimates that the latter is your opinion. You think it is too soon to abandon pleasure, and begin a life of gloom. Now if you appeal to every truly and consistently religious person in the world, all will con- cur in saying, that you are under a great mistake : " Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less j " " her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths 20 230 THE GIRL'S BOOK. are peace ; " and true religion is as necessary to our real enjoyment of the pleasures of life, as it is to our safety in death, and happiness in eternity. A life of re- ligion, is heaven begun upon earth. Every day, there- fore, that you delay to become truly and decidedly reli- gious, even supposing that you become so at last, you cut off from your existence a day of true pleasure. One word more. Do not rest in your religious im- pressions. You have, perhaps, been the subject of anxie- ty and dread on account of your sins ; your mind has been solemnized by some event in Providence ; by an alarming fit of sickness, or the death of a relative, or a companion. You have been impressed under some rousing sermon, or melted under a description of the Saviour's sufferings and love. This is indeed to be reckoned a great mercy : but then the danger is, lest you should rest here ; lest those tears, and terrors, and reso- lutions, should be the only evidences on which you ven- ture to conclude on the safety of your immortal state. What is your present condition I Are you living a life of faith in the Son of God 1 a life of daily repentance and resistance against sin ? a life of holy communion with God in prayer, and of dependence on the influences of the Holy spirit ? If not, whatever may have been your impressions, you are not warranted in resting upon them as an evidence that you are in a safe state, or that you are advancing towards a saving conversion. Do not deceive yourselves by relying on any thing short of this, that you are made new creatures in Christ Jesus. Yet let me not say a word to discourage any dear young friend whose heart is tender, whose desires are sincere towards God, yet who scarcely dares venture to hope that a good work is begun in her heart. The very fear DO NOT REST IN IMPRESSIONS. 231 is an evidence of sincerity, and the earnest desire after grace is an evidence of its possession. My object has been to warn against resting in a half religion, which is but a delusion : but you, my dear young friends, would not be satisfied with a half religion. You do not desire to get off with as little as possible ; your earnest desire is to be entirely and forever devoted to the Lord, body, soul, and spirit ; and your great fear, that you are too unworthy to be accepted, too sinful to be made holy, too weak to maintain the Christian walk and warfare ; and you justly might fear, if you had to depend on your- selves ; but you are encouraged to come in the name of the beloved Son of God, who has promised not to cast out any who come, however weak and guilty. True, your hearts are not worthy the Divine acceptance ; but here is the command — " My son, my daughter, give me thine heart ; " this command is your warrant and assur- ance, that, however unworthy, you will be accepted. The condescending Saviour loves those who love him ; and those who seek him early shall find him. However weak and feeble, he has an infinite fulness to supply all your need ; his Spirit will help your infirmities ; and his word assures you that He who has begun a good work within you, will perform it unto the day of Christ Jesus. If you indulge a hope that this good work is began in you, I hope you will be concerned and careful to mani- fest its effects on your temper and conduct. Perhaps some of your young companions do not love religion, and may be inclined to mock and persecute you ; at any rate they will very severely scrutinize your conduct ; they will expect to see a difference in your behaviour, since they hear from you a profession that they do not make ; and if your conduct is not consistent and circumspect, they 232 THE GIRL'S BOOK. will be very likely to think ill of the religion you profess. Shall I mention the effect of inconsistency in a professor of religion, on my own mind, when a very little girl? — One young lady at school used to talk more than the rest about religion; she would repeat long passages of ser- mons, kneel down and pray with her school-fellows, and answer questions in such a manner as no one else did. She was frequently singing hymns, generally from the volume entitled " Olney Hymns ;" with several of these I was greatly delighted, and learned them by heart ; and as to the young lady herself, I regarded her with rever- ence, as a paragon of excellence and piety. But, after a time, it was proved that this girl was artful, and in many respects guilty of very unworthy conduct. This was a great shock to many of us ; for my own part, I foolishly thought, not that her profession of religion was insincere, but that she had been taught a bad religion ; I was really afraid of recollecting the hymns she used to sing and re- peat, and grew up with a prejudice against that book, and several others in her possession, which I have since found to be truly excellent and valuable. See, then, my dear young friends, that your conduct never gives occasion to those who observe you, to take a prejudice against your books, or ministers, or religious profession ; but rather, may they, taking knowledge of you that you have been with Jesus, and beholding your consistent and conscien- tious conduct, be led to glorify your Father who is in hea- ven, and to say, " We will go with you, for we perceive that God is with you." Should you be persecuted, and the " cruel mockings " and " scourge of the tongue " are a species of persecution, as well as prisons and racks, and are very painful to be borne, — many pious children have endured them from quarters little suspected — well, EDUCATION FINISHED. 233 be it so : think it not strange, nor be discouraged from pursuing what you see to be your duty : be not provoked to resent any unkindness or injury ; bear reproach and contempt with silent meekness, remembering that here- unto ye are called, " because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that ye should follow his steps ; who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth ; who, when he was reviled, reviled not again ; when he suffered, he threatened not, but committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously." " And in meekness in- struct those that oppose themselves, if, peradventure, God will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth." 1 Pet. ii. 21, 22. 2 Tim. ii. 25. Addressing young persons who are religiously in- structed and piously disposed, I would earnestly recom- mend them to engage with cordiality, zeal, and diligence, in the work of Sunday-school instruction, as a means which have been eminently blessed to the promotion of personal piety, and a line of usefulness especially suited to the talents, energies, and opportunities of the young. I cannot doubt, if you sincerely engage in this good work, that your own estimate and experience of religion will be greatly advanced, that your benevolence will be expand- ed and elevated, that some instances of usefulness will cheer your persevering labours, and that at last they will be crowned by results glorious and extensive beyond your highest calculation. Nor will your attention be confined to one line of usefulness ; Bible, and Mission- ary, and Tract Associations will claim a portion of your time and resources ; and when you think of the immense reward connected with being the instrument of turning a sinner from the error of his ways, — and the feebleness of the means, which, under the Divine blessing, are 234 THE GIRL'S BOOK. often rendered successful, you will naturally wish so to economize your time and property, as to have somewhat to spare for every holy cause. Young people well edu- cated, and well disposed, are generally willing enough to engage in these things ; but there is too frequently cause for lamentation, that their minds are fickle, and their zeal short-lived; that when the excitement of novelty and a popular address has past by, there is not steady principle to sustain the noiseless labour of perseverance, and to bear up against the discouragements arising from ingra- titude, indifference, and apparent want of success. A word of caution against this fickleness will not be im- proper here. I know of nothing so likely to form a se- curity for your steady perseverance and zeal, as the cul- tivation of Christian principles. Endeavour to have your own heart thoroughly imbued with a sense of the value of the soul, the importance of salvation, your own obligations to the Saviour, and the claims of a perishing world on your compassion and aid ; keep these prin- ciples constantly in view, and your zeal will be untiring. You will not be weary in well-doing, and in due season you will reap, if you faint not. And now, my beloved young friends, in bringing my book to a close, let me ask when are you to finish your education 1 — Next Midsummer 1 or next Christmas ? I hope not ! the labours of your instructers will have done much if they have set your minds inquiring after know- ledge, established your steps in the right direction, and furnished you with a reference to the sources of farther information. They never intended " to finish your edu- cation :" that is to be the work of your whole life. Every day some new lesson will be set before you, or some old one called to your remembrance ; you will still have EDUCATION FINISHED. 235 to endure restraints, and to undergo discipline. Happy if you have wisdom and docility still to feel yourselves young beginners, constantly to look up for direction to your Heavenly Teacher; submissively to follow his guidance, and to acquiesce in his will. The best evi- dence of real improvement will be a deeper sense of your own ignorance, and an entire dependence on the grace of Christ. Thus you will go on from one step of hea- venly wisdom to another, and your education will be finished only when you drop the veil of mortality, and in the light of heavenly glory, " see as you are seen, and know as you are known." ->> . * •