Stray Thoughts for Girls Part 1

Stray Thoughts for Girls.

by Lucy H. M. Soulsby.

PREFACE

What _is_ the awkward age?

Certainly not any special number of years. It is most frequently found between the ages of thirteen and twenty-seven, but some girls never go through it, and some never emerge from it!

I should be inclined to define it as the age during which girls are asked--and cannot answer--varying forms of the question which so embarra.s.sed the Ugly Duckling: "Can you purr--can you lay eggs?"

Most girls on growing up pa.s.s through an uncomfortable stage like this, in which neither they nor their friends quite know what niche in life they can best fill--sometimes, because of their own undisciplined characters; sometimes, because the niche itself seems to be lacking. Whether this stage be their misfortune or their fault, it is an unpleasant one--both for themselves and for their friends. With much sympathy for both, I dedicate these few suggestions to my known and unknown friends who are pa.s.sing through it.

L. H. M. SOULSBY.

OXFORD, April 4, 1893.

PREFACE TO NEW EDITION

In bringing out a new edition, the book has been enlarged by adding papers on "Making Plans," "Conversation," "Get up, M. le Comte!" "Sunday," and "A good Time;" "Coming out" has been omitted, and "Friends.h.i.+p and Love"

somewhat altered. The present form has been adopted in order to make it match the other volumes of "Stray Thoughts."

L. H. M. SOULSBY.

BRONDESBURY, Nov. 23, 1903.

"The Sweet, Sweet Love of Daughter,

"I have discovered a thing very little known, which is, that in one's whole life one can never have more than a single mother. You may think this obvious and (what you call) a trite observation....

You are a green gosling! I was at the same age (very near) as wise as you, and yet I never discovered this (with full evidence and conviction, I mean) till it was too late."--_Gray's Letters_.

"of Sister,

"The Blessing of my later years Was with me when a Boy She gave me eyes, she gave me ears, And love, and thought, and joy."

Wordsworth.

"and of Wife."

"The thousand still sweet joys of such As hand in hand face earthly life."

M. Arnold.

"I desired to make her my wife, knowing that she would be a counsellor of good things, and a comfort in cares and grief. For her conversation hath no bitterness; and to live with her hath no sorrow, but mirth and joy."--_Wisdom of Solomon_.

LINES

WRITTEN ON BEING TOLD THAT A LADY WAS "PLAIN AND COMMONPLACE."

You say that my love is plain, But that I can never allow When I look at the thought for others That is written on her brow.

The eyes are not fine, I own, She has not a well-cut nose, But a smile for others' pleasures And a sigh for others' woes:

Quick to perceive a want, Quicker to set it right, Quickest in overlooking Injury, wrong, or slight.

Nothing to say for herself, That is the fault you find!

Hark to her words to the children, Cheery and bright and kind.

Hark to her words to the sick, Look at her patient ways; Every word she utters Speaks to the speaker's praise.

"Nothing to say for herself,"

Yes! right, most right, you are, But plenty to say for others, And that is better by far.

Purity, truth, and love, Are they such common things?

If hers were a common nature, Women would all have wings.

Talent she may not have, Beauty, nor wit, nor grace, But, until she's among the angels, She cannot be commonplace.

Arthur Heathcote.

The Virtuous Woman.

A FAREWELL BIBLE LESSON TO GIRLS ON LEAVING SCHOOL.

"Wisdom ordereth all things strongly and sweetly."--WISDOM viii. 1 (Vulg.).

It would be interesting to make a "Garden of Women" from the poets, collecting the pictures of "Fair Women" they have drawn for us, but I want to consider specially the ideal woman of that ancient poet Solomon, and to see how far she can be translated into modern life.

The subject ought to be considered by you who are leaving a school you have loved and valued, and which you should commend to the world, by showing that it has made you fit for home. Beaumaris School has a blank s.h.i.+eld for its arms, with the motto, "_Albam exorna_," "Adorn the white;"

you are all starting with white s.h.i.+elds, and you _can_ adorn the white: it is not only in Spenser that we find Britomarts. You are as much a band of champions as were King Arthur's Knights; you have all the same enemy, have made the same vows, and for a year have been in fellows.h.i.+p, learning and practising the same lessons: can you help feeling that there is a responsibility laid on you, to see that the world shall be the better because of you? Be like Sir Galahad with his white s.h.i.+eld on which "a b.l.o.o.d.y cross" was signed, when he had fought and won.

You know that I admire the old-fas.h.i.+oned type of woman--the womanly woman,--and you will not suspect me of wis.h.i.+ng you to start off "on some adventure strange and new," but I do want you not to be content to lead a commonplace life; you _must_, anyway, live your life: resolve that by G.o.d's grace you will live it _n.o.bly_. You cannot alter the outward form of your life,--you will probably be surrounded by very commonplace household duties, and worries, and jars,--but you can be like King Midas, whose touch turned the most common things to gold. We have it in our power, as Epictetus tells us, to be the gold on the garment of Life, and not the mere stuff of which Fate weaves it. We can choose whether we will live a king's life or a slave's: Marcus Aurelius on his throne was a king, for nothing could conquer him; but Epictetus in chains was equally unconquerable and equally a king. We all have the choice between the Crown and the Muck Rake, and I think we sometimes turn to the straws and the rubbish, not because they are fascinating to us, but because they seem the only things open to us: we do not feel as if our lives had anything to do with Crowns. If you think of your various homes from the point of view of turning their "necessities to glorious gains," and as a field for winning your spurs, I suspect you are each feeling that this is very "tall talk" for such a commonplace home as yours. "All lives have an ideal meaning as well as their prose translation;" but you feel perhaps that you are sure to be swamped in little bothers and duties, and pleasures, and dulness and stagnation, so that you will find it hard to see any ideal meaning at all. This is not true, and to look on an ideal life as "tall talk" is a snare of the Devil; and in these days of common sense and higher education we need to guard against it, and to remember that "a thing may be good enough for practical purposes, but not for ideal purposes." "Ideal life" is not tall talk, but our plain duty, unless our Lord was mocking us when He said, "Be ye perfect, as your Father in Heaven is perfect."