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