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​EVE'S
DAUGHTERS
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EVE'S DAUGHTERS
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​Or
Common
Sense
for
MAID,
× WIFE
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and ܀
MOTHER
O

IVERSITY OF MIC
VERSITY
THE UNIVER
OF MICH
D
VERIT
HIGAN
CIENTIA
1817
IL·LIBRARIES ·
Mrs Mary Virginig (Haives) Terhune
EVE'S DAUGHTERS;
OR,
COMMON SENSE
FOR
MAID, WIFE, AND MOTHER.
((
BY
MARION HARLAND, pseud.
AUTHOR OF COMMON SENSE IN THE HOUSEHOLD SERIES," ETC., ETC.
It is not too much to say of the women of a Nation, that they are the molds in
which the souls of its men are set."-EMILY PFEIFFER.
NEW YORK:
JOHN R. ANDERSON & HENRY S. ALLEN,
NO. 55 CHAMBERS STREET.
1882.
HQ
1221
T318
06 $*
261
295
COPYRIGHT, 1882, BY
J. R. ANDERSON & H. S. ALLEN
EDWARD O. JENKINS,
PRINTER and StereotypER,
20 North William Street, New York.
Mich. st. Lit.
gt.
9-20-1922
TO MY SISTERS,
THE
WIVES, MOTHERS, AND DAUGHTERS OF AMERICA
This Volume
IS AFFECTIONATELY AND EARNESTLY
DEDICATED.

INTRODUCTION.

W
HEN, almost two years ago, I was importuned
to write a series of popular articles upon the
((
Physical and Mental Education of Woman,"
I re-read carefully Dr. Clarke's "Sex in Edu-
cation," and said in effect, if not in words, "They have
Moses and the prophets. Let them hear them."
Still, the proposition had awakened my attention to
the real or imaginary need for such a work. It was
one from which my taste recoiled, nor had I-it was
easy to persuade myself-time or strength for the un-
dertaking. But, once admitted, the thought would not
down. Once opened, my eyes saw more and farther
than ever before into the needs, the failures, and the
capabilities of my sex.
I saw a mighty class of human beings ignorant of the
things pertaining to their physical peace; accounting
the holiest mysteries of their natures an unclean thing;
6
Introduction.
holding carelessly the sublimest possibilities of their
kind; never giving a thought to the awful truth that
they control the fate of the coming race.
I saw Man,-owning Woman as his mate with but
one, and that the least noble side of his dual nature;—
the conscious oppression of her by the coarse and sen-
sual, the repression of her intellectual strivings by the
arrogant who brook not even the shadow of a partner on
the throne of Self. With pain and surprise I saw the
unconscious tyranny of the refined and chivalrous. The
velvet glove needs no iron hand within to keep Woman
-the flattered Angel of Home and Queen of Hearts-
in her place. To the boor, she is a kitchen pipkin, val-
ued according to the amount of hard usage she will en-
dure, the quantity of work to be gotten out of her.
To the boor's superior in sense and breeding, she is
delicate faïence, to be treasured in a windowed cabinet,
very precious, very expensive, and, for the practical
business of life, very useless.
I saw that the influence of traditions,-some mouldy
and unsavory, others sweet as the breath from the In-
dian jars our grandmothers kept filled with spiced rose-
leaves, held all these wrongs to their work. Public
sentiment has decreed what shall be whispered in secret
and what proclaimed from the market-tower.
wives' fables and prejudices outrank with the majority
of women the testimony of enlightened physiologists.
Old-
Introduction.
7
The girl walks blindfolded between plowshares, hot-
ter and closer together than Queen Emma's, and can
hardly—unless by a miracle of mercy-fail to sear her
tender feet.
Yet, brave men and braver women had already spoken.
It was meet that these latter should be heard. Women
can say things to women which we would not bear from
men,-things which men do not know. There is with
us a Guild of Sentiment with which a stranger may not
intermeddle, as there is a Guild of Suffering known in
its fullness of bitterness only to the initiated. The
drawback to a woman's advocacy of any cause is that
her idealistic, sympathetic, maternal nature makes her
a partisan. Her subject becomes her bantling. She is
restive in argument. Her "can't you see it?" antici-
pates logical deduction. Woman is an instinctive diag-
nosian. Man is patient and systematic in following the
clue leading to the source of a malady, and in adopting
the successive stages that promise cure. He, in his
turn, is irritated by the inconsequence of readers of the
other sex; tenacious of technicalities dear to the scien-
tific soul, and loses strength of style when he tries to
simplify his treatise to their comprehension.
I have not the vanity to believe that I can convince
the educated reason which Clarke and Greg, Napheys
and Mitchell, Frances Power Cobbe and Mary Putnam
Jacobi have not moved.
8
Introduction.
And yet, my book is written! After the first page. I
could not stay heart or pen. I send it forth to homes
where other "Familiar Talks" from the same source
have found, first indulgent, then loving auditors. I
have aimed to avoid abstruseness on one hand, and
baldness on the other. I hope there is not a sentence
which mother and daughter may not read together. I
know there is not a line which has not been dictated
by a sincere desire to be helpful to both.
One word of acknowledgment, where many are due,
to the authors from whose works I have drawn freely
in support and illustration of the views advanced in
this volume. My debt to them is personal, no less
than professional, yet is outweighed by the richer
blessing of being permitted to distribute so much of
the wealth thus gained to those who may not have en-
joyed the privilege of access to the store-houses.
MARION HARLAND.

INTRODUCTION,
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH-NOT BEGINNING,
CHAPTER II.
PAGE
5
II
INFANTS' FOOD,
22
CHAPTER III.
"STARTING EVEN,"
4I
CHAPTER IV.
HANDICAPPED,
57
CHAPTER V.
REVERENCE OF SEX,
76
CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST STARTING-POINT,
97
CHAPTER VII.
GIRLHOOD,
118
CHAPTER VIII.
BRAIN-WORK AND BRAIN-FOOD,
136
CHAPTER IX.
WHAT SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
154
CHAPTER X.
FACE TO FACE WITH OUR GIRL, -
-
· 173
*
(9)
IO
Contents.
CHAPTER XI.
HOW SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
1
194
CHAPTER XII.
THE RHYTHMIC CHECK,
214
CHAPTER XIII.
AMERICAN WORRY,
226
CHAPTER XIV.
WHAT THEN?
247
CHAPTER XV.
CALLED,
267
CHAPTER XVI.
WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE MOTHERS?.
290
CHAPTER XVII.
INDIAN SUMMER,
303
CHAPTER XVIII.
HOUSEKEEPING AND HOME-MAKING,
-
319
CHAPTER XIX.
DRESS,
339
CHAPTER XX.
Gossip,
363
CHAPTER XXI.
PRINCE CHARMING,
384
CHAPTER XXII.
MARRIED,
402
CHAPTER XXIII.
SHALL BABY BE?
419
CHAPTER XXIV.
COMING,
432


EVE'S DAUGHTERS.
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH-NOT BEGINNING.
"Man is physically, as well as metaphysically, a thing of shreds
and patches, borrowed unequally from good and bad ancestors, and a
misfit from the start."-EMERSON.

HE baby-girl is born. There are yet homes
where the announcement of her sex excites
discontent.
"The father of ten sons is rich. The father
of ten daughters may as well engage rooms in the poor-
house at once," says the old proverb.
Nor is this all idle talk for talk's sake; the prating
of an obsolete prejudice. I shall not soon forget the
real repugnance expressed in the face of a little girl
whom I congratulated awhile ago upon the advent of
the month-old baby lying on the mother's knees. The
mite of an elder sister, but two-and-a-half years of age,
I 2
Eve's Daughters.
I
looked at the new-comer as if it had been a toad or a
snail.
"It's nuffin but a girl-baby! It ought to be
dwownded!" she uttered, slowly and disgustfully.
“Her father teaches her to say it!" interposed the
mother, a blush tinging her pale face, a sigh mingling
with her laugh. "I wish he wouldn't, for the child
takes it all in earnest. It is natural, you know, for men
to want sons."
"Yet it is the daughter who makes the home!" was
all I dared say.
Poor little girl-baby! Conjugated from the begin-
ning in the passive voice! To be supported, to be pro-
tected, to be dowered-at the best, to be loved. The
coarse realism of the Chinese father only accentuates
the petulant jest of the American and presumably
Christian husband, into the finale-"To be drowned.”
We as the essential condition of the continuation of
our subject—will give our new-born daughter the ad-
vantage at the outset of assuming that she is tolerated
and passably welcome in the home into whose warm
snugness she has fallen. Perhaps, by reason of a preces-
sion of several living sons, her advent is hailed with
pleasure. She is “a perfect child,” too, and pronounced
a “remarkably fine infant" by doctor and nurse.
The conscientious quiet that hedges about "a com-
fortable confinement" is peculiarly conducive to day-
Birth-Not Beginning.
13
dreaming. The painless rest would, of itself, be al-
most compensation to the whilom busy woman for
months of suffering overpast, had the mother won
nothing besides her own life by the already-forgotten
anguish.
"Baby is a world of company to me," she says, when
condoled with upon enforced solitude and inaction.
"The time passes fast and delightfully. She knows
and understands me already."
She must indeed be hopelessly prosaic and inane who
does not bring out from the calm, white tent of that
still month a juster appreciation of the dignity of ma-
ternity; patience and resolve for the performance of
Life's duties, and a deeper thankfulness for home-loves
and happiness. Baby, meanwhile, has offered many
practical suggestions for the consideration of her com-
panion. It is not singular-muses the mother—that she
should already display certain tendencies, entirely selfish,
which are usually regarded as inseparable from human
and animal nature. But that she should, in the short
space of four weeks, have contracted habits, is a puzzle
that has in it the elements of alarm. The monthly
nurse whose dominion in the household is adjudged by
Civilization and so-called Luxury, to be altogether in-
dispensable in the "circumstances"-call her seton,
blister, leech, or what you will-has done her professional
best to keep herself comfortable and spoil her helpless
14
Eve's Daughters.
·
charge, during her brief autocracy. She has walked
and rocked her to sleep in her arms secretly, if not al-
lowed to do it openly; fed her at all sorts of irregular
intervals; pinned the swaddling-bands as tightly as her
sinewy fingers could draw them; administered catnip,
Dewees' Mixture, Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup, and
other invaluables that mother and child (with no
thought of the disinterested Gamp) might have a good
night's sleep, until the tiny morsel that has survived
the gall-moon immediately succeeding birth is hardly
the same gift which was laid, in the first hour of con-
scious existence, in the mother's arms.
Gamp feeds Baby with the fussy assiduity of a child
filling the ever-wide mouth of a callow robin, and with
little more judgment. She pours down sweet oil thick
with sugar as a provisional purgative; toast-water, like-
wise syrupy to prevent bowel-complaint; "cambric
tea" still sweet; - barley-water, patent "Infants'
Food,"—all to keep the poor little dear from starving
until Mamma's milk comes. Surfeited nature in robin
and in Baby revolts. The bird generally dies. Baby's
survival depends upon the strength and activity of the
diaphragm which casts out the rubbish almost as in-
dustriously as it is tossed down.
་
It is hardly just, reasons the natural guardian when
her property is really, as well as nominally made over
to her, that her first official act must be to undo the
Birth-Not Beginning.
15
effects of mismanagement. But she goes valiantly to
work. Baby is no longer cuddled to sleep upon the fat
warmth of "Aunty's" bosom, nor trotted on the knee,
nor carried up and down the room until motion and
monotony act beneficially upon nerves ungeared by
"drops" and overfeeding. She is taught, after divers
battles, to go to sleep in a quiet crib in a darkened
room; is put to bed at stated hours, and given to un-
derstand that she is one under wise authority.
"There is nothing like beginning aright!" decides
Mamma, triumphant in the victory over Self even more
than over the recalcitrant subject of her severity.
"Chasten thy son while there is hope, and let not
thy soul spare for his crying," is the stern counsel of
the Wise Man, whose Rehoboam was an unfortunate
result, if the father's practice matched his preaching.
Our mother's soul has spared, has melted into weak
tears times without number while the crying was like
a knife in her heart. It was the will, backed by sound
sense, that held fast to resolve and act. She is repaid
by the conviction that she has eradicated the rootlets
of evil set by Mrs. Gamp in virgin soil. Or she likens
her darling's mind and disposition to waxen tablets
that will harden into marble with passing years. It has
cost her more trouble than her worst fears had antici-
pated, to smooth out the impressions made by selfish
ignorance. She must see to it that the graving done
16
Eve's Daughters.
henceforward is of an order she would not wish to
obliterate.
She grows very serious in pondering these things.
New light from her lately-lit lamp of experience falls
upon the old story of the peasant Mother's eager “lay-
ing up in her heart" the hints dropped by inspired lips
touching the character and destiny of her Firstborn.
She begins-and her soul grows as she does this—to
enter into the meaning of the phrase, heard a thousand
times from older and wiser people,-as often in mincing
cant from parrot-brained women, drilled by much itera-
tion into what sounds sage,-"Responsibilities of Moth-
ers.
"There are people," remarks Dr. Holmes, "who
think that everything may be done if the doer, be he
educator or physician, be only called 'in season.' No
doubt, but in season would often be a hundred or two
years before the child was born, and people never send
so early as that.”
"I always scouted the doctrine of original sin until
I had children of my own to rear," said a matron, at a
Mothers' Conference meeting. "Now, I am on the
highway to a belief in total depravity."
That bulwark of orthodoxy
"The Assembly's
Shorter Catechism," cuts with a broad-axe the knotted
cord at which modern students of human nature and
expounders of theology pick with subtle pliers and
Birth-Not Beginning.
17
dainty finger-tips. There is the full-bodied essence of
strong meat for men in the annexed "answer."
"The sinfulness of that estate whereinto man fell
consists in the guilt of Adam's first sin: the want of
original righteousness and the corruption of his whole.
nature, which is commonly called Original Sin, together
with all actual transgressions which proceed from it."
This, then, is Baby's inheritance. From Adam down-
ward, the curious and most interesting law known to
scientists as "atavism"-the ancestral bequest of phys-
ical, mental and spiritual traits to succeeding genera-
tions has been at work. Of direct inheritance from
father and mother it is not my design to speak at length
just here. It is easy of comprehension and readily re-
ceived, that the fathers have eaten sour grapes and the
children's teeth are set on edge. But the clear sense
of the spiritual chemists composing the Westminster
Assembly, recognizing the existence of deadly elements
in the purest strain of human blood, reckoned their
way back, without waste of words or time, to the First
Sin for the origin of the virus and included the indefi-
nite series of transmissions of stain and infusion from
line to line under one comprehensive head-" all actual
transgressions which proceed from it."
From this foul stream vomited from a foul fount-
ain, arise the miasmatic vapors that blast the sweetest
earthly hopes.
18
Eve's Daughters.
:
"Lord! who did sin-this man or his parents, that
he was born blind?" queried the gainsayers, believers,
all, in the law of heredity, but forgetting the pregnant
clause-“ Unto the third and fourth generation.”
No other hypothesis solves the terrible enigma of
the deaths of apparently healthy infants, born of par-
ents seemingly as sound, and who, in the management
of their children obey intelligently wise hygienic rules.
Rachel, weeping for those who are not, cries out in
reasonless remorse that this was done which cost her
baby its life, or that left undone which might have
saved it. Who can persuade her that the child was
fatally injured before its mother was born?
"To speak roundly," says Joseph Cook,-" the great
law of hereditary descent is that like breeds like."
Again, a simple law,-so simple that it is axiomatic.
That we do not appreciate it in its extended and tre-
mendous bearing is our fault, or mistake. Baby looked
more like her grandmother than like her own mother
until she was a week old. Most infants come into the
world stamped with this significant seal to the truth of
the principle just stated. And Baby's grandmother
probably looked as much like hers, and so on all the
way back until imagination loses itself in the dim
windings of the ages. Nature is an Ariadne who has
never parted with her clue. We-short of sight and
of memory—allude to the continuity as phenomenal,
Birth-Not Beginning.
19
when, in such families as have preserved the record of
former generations, a remote scion of a progenitor re-
nowned for learning or virtue, or of infamous repute,
repeats history or tradition, and reminds the "magnifi-
cent constituency of mediocrities of which the world
is made up "-according to Dr. Holmes-"the people
without biographies, whose lives have made a clear
solution in the fluid menstruum of Time," that others
of their name once formed "a precipitate in the opaque
sediment of History."
We tell, as a pleasant anecdote, of the Mendelssohn
who used to lament that in his youth he was known as
the son, and in his old age as the father of "The Great
Mendelssohn."
We read of Isaac, a minor at forty years of age, walk-
ing in the field to meditate in the eventide that divided
the period of his subjection to his hot-tempered mother
from uxorious thralldom to Laban's sister,-nor ask our-
selves why we drop him, with Amram and Jesse, as
loose links in reckoning the princes of Israel—Abra-
ham, Jacob, Moses, and David. Might, for good or for
evil, is not to be put down even under the feet of Time
and Death. While obeying the reactionary law that
holds it back for a season (that may be a century), it
reasserts its rights once and again, following the chan-
nel known to our Westminster polemics as "descent by
ordinary generation."
20
Eve's Daughters.
Our young mother's heart may well be full and her
face grave as she watches Baby's development, and
computes to the best of her poor ability, the known
and unknown quantities of the sum set for her to mas-
ter; the pros and cons of death and life, of healthful
luxuriance, of stunted or distorted growth in the vine.
set in her nursery.
That she may work rationally and with fair prospect
of success, it is requisite, if only as the means to higher
ends, to establish a healthy habit of all bodily functions.
By the blessed economy of Nature that sends but one.
rain-drop at a time, there can be no conflict of duties as
to date, space, or importance. If we are twitched a
dozen different ways at once, the fault is in our own
impotence or blindness, in that we do not read aright
the label on each assigned task.
John Newton says quaintly enough that man's duties
are like a fagot, one stick of which GOD designs for
each day's burden. The weight of a single billet may
easily be borne, by the help of GOD's grace. The
trouble is that men will persist in adding to-morrow's
and yesterday's and next week's sticks to to-day's, so
that it is no marvel when they sink beneath the accu-
mulation.
I would if I could, rivet that paragraph—a Silent Com-
forter-upon the heart and conscience of every mother.
It would be tonic, salve, and sedative combined.
Birth-Not Beginning.
21
For the present, your rain-drop or billet, or whatever
prefigures the daily duty, is to secure your child's phys-
ical health—a matter of double import, as she is a girl.
I hope to make the emphasized section clearer as we
go on.
Hinging directly upon this desideratum, comes the
question of DIET.


CHAPTER II.
INFANTS' FOOD.
'Out of 100 children suckled by their mothers, only 18.2 died dur-
ing the first year. Of those nursed by wet-nurses, 29.33 died. Of
those artificially fed, 60 died. Of those brought up in institutions, 80
died. But all mothers can not yield the necessary food for their off-
spring, and the weakness which underlies this incapacity is far more
likely than not to be transmitted to most of the little ones, however
carefully fed otherwise, who slip away into premature graves."—Re-
ported from DR. G. F. KOLb.
"The sad mortality of children was the theme of the opening address
of Dr. B. W. Richardson, the President of the British Health Con-
gress, at its meeting in December. He could not have chosen a more
urgent topic. He classified the causes under four heads-the inherit-
ed, the accidental, the inflicted, and the acquired. Under the first
head he referred to the influence of hereditary diseases; under the
second the diseases of an epidemic character, and which occur from
exposure to one or other of the communicable poisons, were con-
sidered; under the third head the injuries arising from bad nursing,
excessive competition in education, and improper feeding were
brought under notice; and under the fourth head the evils incident to
early resort to smoking, the use of stimulants, late hours, and irregu-
lar meals were made subjects of comment. What he urged especially
was the responsibility of parents for the failure in health of children."
F possible, nurse your infant yourself. Let the

(C
possible" be as stringent as conscience can
make it. The vital importance of the injunc-
tion is not a matter of old-fashioned prejudice
or old wives' fables. The most advanced schools of
Infants' Food.
23
physiology set before us an array of facts bearing di-
rectly upon, and cognate to the subject of Heredity,
that should force serious thought upon frivolity itself,
oblige even the obstinacy of ignorance to yield credence
to the result of enlightened research.
It can not be denied that much inconvenience to the
mother, loss of natural rest, and, for a season, of strength,
are the usual attendants upon the habit of nourishing
her child from her own bosom.
"It is slavery!" cries one, passionately; "and a de-
grading bondage, a reduction of a refined, intellectual
being to the rank of a mammal female.”
Another said to the physician who congratulated her
upon the bountiful supply furnished by Nature for her
first-born :
"You can not expect me to injure my figure, ruin
my complexion, and spoil the fit of my dresses by nurs-
ing my baby as a common washerwoman might!”
"Madam!" he returned; "the most beautiful sight.
upon GOD's earth is that of a mother nourishing her
young from her own breast!”
Apart from the facilities afforded by the fulfillment
of this duty for the study of your child's constitutional
peculiarities, the pleasure to the little one and to your-
self of so many hours of affectionate intercourse, and
the inevitable strengthening, through these means, of
your mutual attachment, there are substantial advan-
24
Eve's Daughters.
tages in the habit which are not to be lightly passed
over, or disregarded entirely.
'Like breeds like." Mother and child are as homo-
geneous as trunk and twig. The sap-which we char-
acterize in these circumstances lacteal fluid-is assimi-
lated naturally and nourishfully. The tender digestive
organs recognize it at once; seldom, and that only
under abnormal influences, quarrel with it. The reflex
influence upon the mother comes in, also, as a matter
of course.
versa.
Without heeding the preposterous notions of dieting
that obtain with the foolishly-superstitious, she will
soon learn that the best food for herself is also best for
her nursling; that what agrees with her stomach, be-
ing readily and painlessly digested, suits Baby, and vice
She discovers, furthermore, that the most use-
ful milk-producing ingredients are not slops, but juicy
meats, good broths, milk, really excellent ale, oatmeal
porridge and cream, fresh ripe fruits, and a score of
other palatable things that, after supplying Baby's
wants, leave in her own system rich reserves for the
replenishment of wasted tissues and thinned blood.
The intelligent woman will bear in mind that the
watery serum distending the lacteal glands after she
has imbibed countless bowls of tea and goblets of water
to quench a constant thirst, while it will, in turn, fill
and unreasonably enlarge Baby's stomach and deposit
Infants' Food.
25
adipose matter between bones and skin, can do little
else. Phosphates for bone and brain, strong-meat
essence for blood; vegetable nervines that shall act
directly upon spinal marrow and nerve-centers - all
these are chemically interfused and adjusted for their
appointed agencies in the patient, faithful retort of the
mother's bosom. In the partial appreciation of this
beautiful law of demand and supply, the old women
and "women's doctors" of our foremothers' times phys-
icked the mother when the unweaned child writhed
with colic, and needed purgatives or astringents. Still
groping after this truth, their unwritten nursery code
prohibited her use of fish, pickles, salads, acid fruits,
cabbage, onions, and so on; drenched her with caudle.
and posset; stayed the craving stomach upon panado,
until the obedient patient became thin, anemic, and
hysterical, her suckling pale and puffy. Water-gruel
by the quart and unlimited tea and coffee were the
most approved regimen, and the term of nursing was a
penitential pilgrimage graveward. Babies pulled moth-
ers down to hollow-eyed skeletons, and the mother sac-
rificed beauty, health, and life to keep alive a bloated,
dyspeptic leech that fretted continually and yelled its
inarticulate, "Give! give!" by day and by night.
You, Mother of To-day, have to undo and to mend,
to tear down, no less than to build. In no stress of
uncharitableness do you anathematize the mistakes and
26
Eve's Daughters.
follies of your predecessors as "actual transgressions"
against you and yours. You do not modify your judg-
ment as there comes to you in some startling expe-
rience, or by degrees of observation, the conviction that
the supreme fact of Heredity has to do with the higher
part of your child's being. Upon that the graving-tool
of "ordinary generation" has wrought as industriously
and as deeply as upon her physical nature. The most
obvious manifestation of this truth and its practical
enforcement are in the circumstance that your moods.
and tenses affect her comfort. Your distress, anxiety,
and petulance are reflected in her fitful slumbers, con-
vulsive twitchings, "cross-fits."
"The dear lamb's teeth!" says the nurse.
mother's temper" would be nearer the truth.
"The
While she lies at the breast rising and falling with
the throbbing heart, you have leisure, and use it, for
the indulgence of the passion or despondency of the
hour. There is pith in the old Scotch saying: "It is
sair luck to cry over a sucking bairn." The farmer
flogs the boy who "races the cows home," not only, he
explains to him, because it lessens the flow of milk,
but that fright and irritation injure the quality of it.
But when Baby wails by the hour, "for nothing
being, so far as nurse and parents can discern, perfectly
well, and free from pin-pricks—who blames Mamma on
that account for the fretful humor that has possessed
Infants' Food.
27
her all day? Who remembers, with any consciousness
of the bearing of one incident upon the other, that,
when she came in, at noon, hot and jaded from a long
walk, the full head of milk pressing hard upon muscles
and veins, she could not wait to get her bonnet off
before catching up the child and putting its eager lips
to the brimming fountain ?
She laughed in mingled relief and amusement when
the hungry little thing choked and gurgled and coughed
itself purple under the rush down its throat into the
empty stomach. Yet she knows that a bottle is best
filled slowly, with judicious respect to the escape of
air, if she gives no thought to the probable effect of
heat and weariness upon the food administered thus
hastily.
I could cite a hundred well-authenticated examples
of the evils of what most mothers never think of class-
ing among indiscretions—what they would shudder to
hear described as sins. Let two suffice:
came out
A celebrated New York physician, Dr. Seguin, in a
treatise upon "Idiocy," relates: "Mrs.
from a ball-room, and gave the breast to her baby,
three months old. He was taken with spasms, two
hours after, and since is a confirmed idiot and epi-
leptic."
The second story is familiar to many. A German
soldier's wife, seeing her husband attacked by a comrade,
28
Eve's Daughters.
rushed in between them, wrested the sword from the
assailant, broke it in two, and in a frenzy of anger,
stamped upon the fragments. While still trembling
and speechless in the reaction of the paroxysm, she
took her healthy infant, six months old, from the cra-
dle and put him to the breast. In ten minutes he was
a corpse.
Boerhaave, philanthropist and physician, in an ex-
haustive article upon Epilepsy, sets down a case of this
malady induced by suckling while the nurse was in a
furious rage.
While it is undoubtedly true that the failure of Amer-
ican women to nurse their offspring is largely due to in-
disposition on their part to consider the act as a duty,
or to perform it when they are convinced against incli-
nation that it is obligatory upon the parent; while they
acquiesce all too readily in the dictum of the fashion-
able nurse that "there is no manner of use in trying
to force milk when there is none there, or so little that
it would do the child no good"; it is also beyond
question that the quantity secreted in the bosoms of
some mothers is very small. The deficiency may be
the result of disease-fever, pulmonary weakness, or
general or constitutional debility. The treatment of
such cases should vary according to the character of
the cause of the trouble. When the fever has passed,
every gentle means should be employed-such as intel-
ligent feeding, mild ale, exercise in the open air, and
Infants' Food.
29
frequent application of the child to the breast to coax
back the milk to the dry ducts. Pulmonary disease-
confirmed and hereditary-should prohibit nursing, as
it ought marriage and child-birth. Where the milkless
fount is the consequence of general weakness, the plain
regimen is to build up the constitution of the mother
by tonics, nourishing diet, and, above all, change. of air,
meanwhile intermitting no appliance that might induce
a secretion of the lacteal fluid without drawing too
heavily upon the woman's forces.
The attempt to dry up, by artificial means, what is a
perfectly natural and healthful outgo, is, as might be
predicated with respect to violent dealing with all nor-
mal bodily secretions, often followed by disastrous
effects. Consumption, apoplexy, insanity—are among
the graver consequences of obedience to the decree of
indolence, expediency, or fashionable custom. The more
common are hysteria, early and excessive return of the
menstrual period, headache, and general good-for-noth-
ingness.
It is worth while for the sake of your own health
and comfort, to sit, a patient and persevering learner,
at Nature's feet, during the seasons she defines by un-
mistakable indications. If, when you have done your
best to follow her promptings, the desired result is not
gained, you have freed your soul from the responsibil-
ity of the failure to carry out her designs.
And, what then? Clearly, in this case, to give Baby
30
Eve's Daughters.
the best substitute for its natural food that can be pro-
cured. Not until the limit of your "possible" is reached,
resort to wet-nurse, or cow's or goat's milk, still less to
the thousand-and-one variations of "Infants' Food” ad-
vertised as "Better than Mother's Milk." The Cre-
ator never makes such gross mistakes as these poor
imitators would imply.
All that we have said of the influence of diet, tem-
per, etc., upon the reservoir in the maternal keeping,
applies, with tenfold pertinence, to the hired nurse who
serves for wages, and not through the sweet compul-
sion of Love.
Scrofula, a love of intoxicating liquors, and a coarse,
obese habit of body have, again and again, been posi-
tively traced back to the foster-mother. Cutaneous
eruptions, fever, and indigestion are more readily and
frequently transmitted. The occult influences by which
the very expression of countenance, even the mold of
feature, are given by the nurse, rather than by the par-
ents, form an interesting and curious subject to the
physiological student.
I have in my mind a striking illustration of the secret
and powerful effect of these in the history of a young
girl whom I knew, many years since. Her dissimilarity
to the other members of a remarkably handsome family
was conspicuous, and, to herself, a source of deep mor-
tification. Her rough skin, corpulent frame, harsh voice,
Infants' Food.
3I
and loud laugh were unconquerable peculiarities that
were yet a degree less distressing to her refined kins-
people than certain vulgar tastes, such as a liking for
tobacco and spirits, and a relish for broad wit and low
company. The origin of the evil-whispered in shudder-
ing breaths by her blood-kindred, talked of freely by
her acquaintances was that she had, when an infant,
been put to nurse to a fat Irish woman. In consequence
of a long illness succeeding the child's birth, the moth-
er's milk was dried up. The baby was delicate; the
woman was healthy, willing, and close at hand. Under
her nourishing, the puny girl soon became a wonder of
size and strength. The foster-mother smoked habit-
ually while the little creature drew sustenance from her
breast, and although never really drunk, was, most of
the time, slightly under the effect of the whisky, with-
out which, she would declare, she "couldn't kape up
her own stringth, let alone the dear babby's." Her
boisterous good-humor and coarse jokes, while oddly
at variance with the general tone of the household,
were overlooked as the "harmless ways" of a privileged
servant. Had a disagreeable temper been one of her
failings, it would probably have been excused on ac-
count of her devotion to her nursling. She gave up
sleep, recreation, all other companionship, to be with
and watch over her whom her Celtic heart had accepted
in the place of her own dead child. The baby slept in
32
Eve's Daughters.
her bed and arms by night, never quitted her sight for
an hour at a time during the day, for twenty months.
The mother regained strength but slowly, and there
were other children to be looked after. "Baby was
safe, well, and happy with Margaret."
Margaret Maguire was as stalwart of will as of body, a
"character" in the neighborhood, where, to tell the
truth, her reputation for modesty and sobriety was at a
discount. She stamped herself with such distinctness
upon the memories of those who knew her at this date,
that there was no difficulty, in after years, in recogniz-
ing her traits in the development of the girl whom she
never saw after the latter was two years old.
It is absurdly worse than useless to affect disbelief in,
or contempt of, the might of the mysterious tie uniting
a woman to the one for whose sustenance she has, for
months, drawn upon the hidden stores of her own life.
If the mental disorder of the nurse can blight a child
with idiocy, or smite with death, who shall pretend to
define the nature and extent of the moral and intellect-
ual bias imparted and acquired by this relation? The
nursling becomes blood of her blood, nerve of her nerve,
life of her life. Why not also, soul of her soul?
Said an acquaintance in my hearing: "My little boy
has a new wet-nurse, the third in six months. One
drank, the other discharged herself from my service in
a fit of rage that was frightful to behold. She actually
1
Infants' Food.
33
threw a knife at the coachman. I have now a healthy,
stolid German, whom I hope to keep. She is very
stupid and good-tempered, and consumes a great deal
of lager-bier. I hesitated somewhat about engaging her
when I learned that she was not married. It seemed
not quite the thing, you know. But our family physi-
cian says, 'A fig for her morality! All that you need
care to know is whether she is sound of body!'"
I leave mother, physician, and anecdote to point their
moral.
(C
A wet-nurse who is an honest woman, clean in body
and in life, is beyond price when the calamity—I write
it deliberately-the calamity of dry breasts overtakes
the mother, or when, in the candid opinion of a doctor
who understands human nature and his business, and
respects both too truly to sink to the level of a wom-
an's medical man," she would peril her own health and
that of her offspring in fulfilling this most gracious of
maternal tasks. But this substitute is always an ex-
pensive necessity, often altogether beyond the reach of
people of moderate means. In some places and some
times, such an one is not to be had on any terms.
Man is an omnivorous animal. Most other mam-
mals are by nature either graminivorous. or carnivorous
Your dog may be trained into toleration of bread
and vegetables as a part of his diet, and if he is very
docile or mean-spirited, into a fondness for sweets. At
34
Eve's Daughters.
heart, he prefers meat, as did his forest progenitors,
and raw, to cooked flesh. But no dog, however tamely
domesticated, will eat grass, like the ox, in these ante-
millennial days. Nor would the hungry or mad ox de-
vour flesh as an article of food. Man-as we are open-
ing our eyes to see—must eat meat to enrich his blood
("which is the life"). He should likewise temper blood-
heats with fruits and other esculents; strengthen brain-
tissue and muscle with the phosphates of fish and crude
cercals. A cunning distillation of all these elements is
the human mother's milk. He who created woman and
knows what is in her, ordained this for the nourishment
and upbuilding of the human infant.
But while the milk yielded by the graminivorous cow
can not furnish all the elements of growth which your
baby requires, a very fair imitation of her proper ali-
ment may be prepared by mixing fresh cow's milk with
one-third the quantity of boiling water and sweetening
it slightly. Thousands of children are reared yearly
upon this diet, and with results apparently so satisfac-
tory that many mothers do not hesitate to express a
preference for this mode of treatment above that sug-
gested by Nature and Providence. Should Baby keep
well, the defects of the system may not be manifest to
the casual observer. That she may keep well, the “bot-、
tle-baby" must be tended with especial care and intel-
ligence. You, the defrauded mother, should make
Infants' Food.
35
regular and frequent inspection of the contents of the
flask and the condition of the elastic tube which poorly
represent to your child the warmth and refreshment,
the "comfort" and the "cuddling" of her lawful rest-
ing-place and sustenance.
I shall never forget a peep I once had into the nursery
in the house of an opulent family where twin-babies lay
feet to feet in a double cradle under a pink mosquito-
net. One was pulling vigorously, the other. drowsily,
at snake-like tubes leading into two bottles lying beside
them.
"But,"―ventured I, horror mastering politeness,—
"the milk is curdled! See the clots!'
The calm mother bent to make sure of the fact.
"Yes!" she drawled. "That often happens in this
very warm weather. I give them their bottles when I
go to bed, at night, and usually hear no more of them
until near morning. Then, I find that the little left in
each bottle is 'loppered' into a firm curd. I suppose
it must be wholesome, for they seem to be none the
worse for it."
Both babies had a stormy infancy. What with teeth-
ing, convulsions, cholera-infantum, and in the case of
one, epileptic fits, the poor mother lost sleep, patience
and heart times without number. She "supposed that
twins were always hard to rear."
Perhaps their diet had nothing to do with these dis-
36
Eve's Daughters.
comforts and mishaps. Nature is a brave old mother,
better than any of us deserve, and the Father has com-
passion beyond bound or imagination for the multitude
of helpless ones who "can not discern between their
right hand and their left hand."
As we have said, while Baby remains passably healthy,
continuing to enjoy and digest her milk without pain
or other unpleasant symptom that all is not right within,
the imitation article serves the desired purpose fairly
well. But as mothers and nurses know, there are indi-
cations that the system of the "bottle-baby" rejects as
innutritious, and therefore worthless, a much larger
proportion of the food administered than does that of
the nursling. Also, by reason of the inordinate quan-
tity of liquid it is compelled to swallow in order to
secure a certain quantum of nourishment, the abdomen.
is gradually enlarged in a disproportionate degree.
These are temporary inconveniences. The danger be-
gins with the battle with the disorders incident to the
dreaded teething-period. When the heat from the
swollen gums pervades the whole body, and the irrita-
ble stomach and relaxed bowels will endure but little
food of any description, it is of imminent importance
that the little should be exactly adapted to the needs
of disturbed and over-taxed Nature. In such circum-
stances it happens so often as to be quoted as a rule,
that no substitute for the milk of mother or wet-nurse
is assimilated by the digestive organs.
Infants' Food.
37
Such statistics of comparative mortality among in-
fants fed from the breast and those "brought up," like
poor Pip, "by hand," as we have collected from Dr.
Kolb's report on this subject, settle the question—if
there be any-beyond the possibility of doubt or cavil.
In the exigency of disordered Nature remedial Science
comes to her help-not so much to cure disease as to
brace the constitution to repel it. Rice-boiled to a
jelly in plenty of water very lightly salted, strained
through coarse muslin and slightly sweetened; arrow-
root dissolved in a little cold water, then cooked in
milk to the smoothness and consistency of starch; pure
cream, scalded and sweetened; barley, boiled long and
slowly, salted a little and strained; beef-tea, freed from
every float of fat, and administered by the teaspoonful,
to restore the lost tone to the stomach ;-these are
some of the accessories by which life may be supported
until the system recovers its equilibrium. As soon as
the need of them has passed, return to the staple-
Milk-more or less diluted with boiling water. In
health, and especially in sickness, be wary of experi-
ments upon the tender stomach. The time for variety
of diet has not come yet. In Baby's clean flask, each
day scalded and aired, carefully rinsed with warm water
before each replenishment with sweet milk, lie safety
and satisfaction.
Another cardinal principle in the feeding of your
infant is regularity as to time and quantity. Begin by
38
Eve's Daughters.
giving her the breast or bottle every hour, and gradu-
ally widen the interval between her meals until at three
months of age, this settles into a fixed period of three.
hours. Before this rule has been established a fort-
night, you will observe that the delicate mechanism of
appetite and digestion has accepted the regulation of
intelligent power, and adjusted itself most amiably to
the arrangement. The advantages of the system are
almost as signal to mother as to child. She can absent
herself from the nursery and house for three hours-
a quarter of the working-day-with great comfort of
mind and body. Baby will not grow hungry while she
is away, nor will the lacteal vessels fill painfully until
the nursing-season is at hand. The little one will play
contentedly in the parent's sight without teasing for
food in the many ways that try the temper and nerves.
of both, and when out of her presence, the happy child
forgets that she has a mother. The weak obstinacy of
women who make their boast of the soft hearts that
will not let them deny the darlings anything, would be
less reprehensible if it acted hurtfully only upon them-
selves. They tell you, with a sickly smile meant for
motherly-sweetness, that they can not fall in with lat-
ter-day innovations upon natural affection, that they
nurse their babes (that style of parent is apt to say,
“babe" and "lamb ")—whenever they ask to be fed,
without regard to times and seasons. They "have not
Infants' Food.
39
A
the knack of putting aside the claims of their offspring
as is the manner of strong-minded women." Their
folly is abundantly illustrated, one would think, by
their chalky cheeks and hollow chests, without requir-
ing the outspoken denunciation of sensible observers.
It would be a waste of our time and strength to en-
deavor to persuade these complacent martyrs that they
injure their children even more than themselves.
Dr. C. E. Page in a treatise upon the management
of infants, comments severely and justly upon such
blind indulgence.
"The only wonder is that any infant lives sixty days
from birth. Fed before birth but three times a day,
he is after birth subjected to ten or twenty meals in
the twenty-four hours, until chronic dyspepsia, or some
other acute disease interferes."
"Subjected" is a good word in this connection.
Baby is stuffed-drenched-with no option of her own.
When the still-active stomach rejects the surfeit, Mam-
ma is not dismayed. "All healthy babies throw up
their milk." If it comes up curdled, it is accepted as a
sign that she "got the nourishment out of it" before
rejecting it. If she cries before feeding she is hungry;
if afterward, she has colic. That the sides of the sur-
charged stomach ache from the cruel pressure of the
liquid does not present itself as a probability.
Before closing this chapter, let me state positively
40
Eve's Daughters.
and distinctly, that the nursing-period of a moderately-
healthy mother, is no more a state of invalidism, per se,
than is pregnancy, or what is known as the "change
of life." In all three conditions, certain simple laws
should govern your management of yourself. Irregu-
lar habits are then more than "shiftlessness." They
are a sin against yourself, and those dependent for
comfort and happiness upon your health. In laying
the soothing unction to her vanity, that she is sacrific-
ing her own for her child's good, she who in becoming
a mother, ceases to be anything else, shows herself to
be as ignorant as she is silly. She serves her kind in
keeping herself fresh and sound. Every refreshing
bath, every hour of wholesome exercise in the open air,
every season of deep, healthful sleep,-all reasonable
recreation and the continual feast of a merry heart, tell
surely, if not visibly, upon her baby.
The harvest for mother and offspring,—of which this
is the seed-time-is in the coming years.


लल
CHAPTER III.
STARTING EVEN.
We
"We repeat with our girls the experience of Caspar Hauser.
surround them from birth by conditions that so stunt their growth
that they early cease to crave a freedom which their weak frames
would find burdensome. The foundations of future invalidism are
solidly laid before they are ten years old. They have, by that time,
been so trained to physical passivity, so imbued with the idea of the
unbecomingness of activity and the desirability of being ornamental,
that they are thenceforth, unconscious co-operators in the work. . . . .
"The arrangements of the nursery and the school reflect this fatal
disbelief, and make it a reality."-EMILY BLACKWELL.

NE who has won for herself an honorable place
in the American world of letters, writes thus
to me:-
"Thanks to my delicate constitution-(the
local doctors informed my parents that I was born
without any)-I was not confined so closely in the
school-room during my childhood as were some of my
companions. I early developed a love for wanderings
a-field and for woodland sports that sorely puzzled
and mortified my mother. Sitting still with my best
frock on, and a sash bound smoothly about my waist,
42
Eve's Daughters.
brought on pain in the side. Sewing on patchwork
and knitting garters gave me a sick headache. To the
great scandal of the prim misses who visited my elder
sisters, I cared nothing for the dolls they dressed for
me, less than nothing for paying and receiving visits.
To dress as my contemporaries remind me, to this
day I was indifferent, provided my clothes were
whole, clean, and stout enough to bear the tugs of
briery hedge and scrubby brake. I spent my afternoon
and Saturday holidays in the outer air. If I must
study, I took my books with me, and conned my tasks,
perched in the boughs of orchard or forest, or lying
prone and half-buried in grass or clover. I fished,
climbed, waded, rode bare-backed horses, raced and
whooped with my young brothers, until, at the age of
twelve, I was the tom-boy of the neighborhood,—sun-
burned, lithe of limb, well, and approved of by nobody
except "the boys," and (secretly) by my father. I have
since had reason to believe that it was my mother's
discovery of his flagitious conduct in teaching me how
to carry, load, and fire his fowling-piece, that led, at
length, to her energetic measure of "taking me up
from grass," buckling on bit and bridle, and putting
me into the break-wagon of a boarding-school.
"By this time, I was willing-because fit to study.
In five years I was graduated with distinction, by the
highly respectable institution to which I owe my scho-
Starting Even.
43
lastic training. I was a pale, slim girl, who turned to
the country and to indolence with the instinct of an
uncaged animal. When other débutantes were plotting
and busying with the season's conquests at watering-
places and sea-shore, I deliberately and invariably pre-
ferred rustication in a farm-house where I could spend.
most of the day out-of-doors; could live upon fruit,
vegetables, and milk; go to bed in the twilight and
sleep ten hours every night like a tired baby.
"I laughed when thrifty housewives called me 'lazy,'
and they and their notable daughters thanked their
restless stars that their bodies and minds were cast in a
different mold. I simply did not care a rush for their
strictures or for their praise. It is the sickly or the
morbidly-sensitive who are hurt by idle gossip.
At
"At twenty, I stopped growing; my figure rounded;
color came to my sallow cheeks; a great bound of
physical and mental energy to my whole being.
twenty-two, I published my first book. I had written
it because I had something to say, and it found more
readers than I had dared dream of addressing. I was
twenty-four when I married the man of my free and
happy choice. I have borne five healthy children;
been the mistress of a large house, and, my husband's
position requiring me to go much into society at home
and abroad, have enjoyed the duties of hospitality and
of social intercourse, with an extensive circle of friends
44
Eve's Daughters.
and acquaintances. In all this time I have been steadily
engaged in literary pursuits. My faithful pen has
brushed aside many a teasing annoyance, kept ennui at
bay, and prevented the rust and mold from settling
upon my mental acquisitions.
"I am fifty years old to-day,-hale and plump, as
young in feeling and as buoyant in hope as I was thirty
years ago. GOD willing, I shall in the next decade, do
the best work of my life. My sisters are, one and all,
'delicate' married women, meagre, sad-eyed, with faded
complexions and dragging step. They eye me curious-
ly and agree in the opinion that my zest in work and
pleasure, my healthy appetite and unimpaired diges-
tion, my stirring habits and ambitious schemes are
'phenomenal in a person of my age.' I attribute the
difference between us to the blind trustfulness with
which I, without knowing what I was doing, or why,
committed myself in the growing season to the guid-
ance of Nature. Drugs and tonics were early decided
to be valueless in the case of a constitutionless girl.
Had I been an only child, nursing and pampering
would have sent me to an early grave. Being one of
eight, with three older and four younger than myself,
I was allowed to run wild. A diseased child might
have died under what was to me a wholesome and
saving letting-alone. Happily it was exactly what I
needed. Providentially, I found the catholicon."
Starting Even.
45
I transcribe the letter as it comes to me, and at full
length, because the narrative is instructive, and will, I
believe, interest others as it has interested me, even
although the writer's name is, by request, withheld.
Her epistle has furnished the text of more than one
chapter in this work.
Dr. Clarke, in discussing the question of the “Iden-
tical Co-education of the Sexes," has this passage:-
"To make boys half-girls and girls half-boys can
never be the legitimate function of any college."
Without staying to quibble upon the declaration as
applied to the collegiate training of young men and
young women, let us, in the light of the true story we
have just given, inquire seriously whether a process
similar to that deprecated by our learned physician as
unwise for adult pupils, may not be safe and judicious
treatment for children.
For twelve years after your daughter begins to run
alone and to be conscious of her individuality, she is—
physically untrammeled by the accident of her sex.
It is not true, as some rashly and others sentimentally
affirm, that girls are from the beginning, frailer than
their brothers. If I may be pardoned for the personal
allusion, I will state that in my own home-band, this
rule is emphatically reversed. My two boys, although
healthy infants, were from the beginning of their lives,
more slender of figure and limb; more nervous in tem-
46
Eve's Daughters.
perament and in stomach, more sensitive than were.
their robust sisters. They took cold oftener and under
less exposure, and the degree of fatigue or excitement
that made the girls sleep soundly, cost them tossing
and feverish nights.
My surprise at the establishment of these idiosyn-
crasies as facts led me to look keenly and far for like
refutations of the theory of innate delicacy on the part
of girls, by reason of their sex. The result of the in-
vestigation has confirmed me in the belief that, other
things being equal, our sons and daughters start even.
Wet-footed Willie, stealing up the back-stairs to the
nursery at the closing-in of an afternoon's play by for-
bidden pond or in the snow, is as liable to pay the
penalty of disobedience by an attack of croup or pneu-
monia as is ruddy-cheeked Mamie who has shared the
fun and helps him keep the secret of their soaked shoes.
and stockings for fear of a present scolding or peniten-
tial fare for supper. Green apples disagree as surely
with one as the other, and the same kind and amount
of hard play have the like sequence of fatigue. The
chances are that, with her brother's comrades, the
merry, active, brave-hearted little girl passes for a
"better fellow" than Willie himself. Unspoiled by
sentimental saws of the shrinking feebleness of the
weaker vessel, the boys do her powers justice, acknowl-
edge her as their equal in prowess and endurance.
Starting Even.
47
Dr. Clarke is explicit and admirable here:-
"No scalpel has disclosed any difference between a
man's and a woman's liver. No analysis or dynameter
has discovered or measured any chemical action or
nerve-force that stamps either of these systems "—(i. e.,
the nutritive and nervous)-" as male or female. From
these anatomical and physiological data alone the in-
ference is legitimate that intellectual power, the corre-
lation and measure of cerebral structure and metamor-
phosis, is capable of equal development in both sexes."
Bone, muscle and blood are of like and the same sub-
stance in both, and to this assertion we may add Dr.
Clarke's sequitur, as given above-" capable of equal
development."
Having admitted as much, we are yet hardly pre-
pared for a foot-note a few pages further on in our
valuable" Sex in Education."
((
According to the authority of MM. Queletet and
Smits, the mortality of the sexes is equal in childhood,
or that of the male is greater." Not-so we learn from
further investigation of this interesting fact-because
the bold, adventurous spirit of the boy leads him into
perils the girl escapes by her sheltered life, but that the
ordinary diseases of infancy bear more severely upon
him than upon her. Without being superstitious or
fatalistic, we who have lived to middle-age sometimes
confess to an uncomfortable impression, drawn from
48
Eve's Daughters.
observation, that the only son in a family of daughters
is more likely to be stricken down than any one of the
others. Sometimes, it is true, the very sun and heart
of the household are taken away in the untimely death
of the precious only girl. But the testimony of scien-
tific compilation of statistics goes to prove that the
balance of vital energy is less firm in the boy than in
his sister up to ten or twelve years of age,—in cold
climates, up to fourteen.
By such research and kindred conclusions a problem
is set fairly and squarely before us :—
Can the uncompromising common sense of the moth-
er, emulating the true child of Nature who has told us.
her story-so far fortify the constitution of her girl
during this golden period, when the scale of strength
and weakness is evenly balanced, or, if it wavers, trem-
bles in her favor-that it may endure, without harm,
the shock of the first stage in the thirty years' pilgrim-
age appointed unto women?
Boys will be boys!" we say, stroking Willie's
cropped hair, and kissing his bronzed or freckled face.
"He is laying up strength for the Battle of Life."
That he may do this to better advantage, we equip
him in corduroy or "drilling" breeches, blue flannel
shirt and wide-brimmed hat, shoe him with cowskin
boots impervious to mud and thorns, and turn him
loose in his vacation. For two months we joy to know
Starting Even.
49
If
that the future voter,-legislator,-president—is as free
from care and full of fun as is the rough colt he seizes.
by the mane in the pasture for "a jolly ride." It is
Mamie's vacation too, but she must practice at least
two hours a day, and there is the piece of fancy-work
she has set her heart upon finishing this summer.
Mamma is one of the "old-fashioned sort," she insists,
moreover, that her girl shall know something about
plain sewing and learn to darn stockings, if not to knit
them. Besides these hindrances to her participation in
Willie's sports there is-most formidable and para-
mount to all other considerations-that due to Com-
plexion and Clothes. Mamie is a brunette, and tans.
Jennie is a blonde, and freckles. And not to be
"dressed" in the afternoon would be a lapse into bar-
barism, at thought of which every decorous establish-
ment shudders in all its parts and members.
"We pass three months of every year in the country
-the real, out-of-door-and-window country, where there
are hills and woods and water and berry-pastures," said
a mother, when congratulated upon the health of her
children. "During that time, 'full dress' means to my
little girls, the exchange of a soiled calico or Holland
frock for a clean one. On cool, or rainy days, there is
always the invaluable blue flannel.”
Her girls grew into young women with exquisite
complexions, clear white and softly-shaded rose-pink.
50
Eve's Daughters.
They had sound digestions, clear heads, light hearts
and no backs—to speak of.
It is well for mothers to know and to teach their
daughters the simple truth that one can be trimly and
becomingly arrayed in linen or gingham morning and
walking-gowns, and that on summer afternoons in the
country, a wash-lawn or cambric is more suitable, be-
cause more comfortable, than silk or grenadine. A
child puts on self-consciousness-that bane to human
comfort and grace-with clothes that must be thought
of and cared for at every turn.
I have naught to say against embroidery and plain
sewing. Of a fair practical knowledge of the latter I
am a staunch advocate. Girls in every station should.
be instructed in the use of the needle. Sewing-machines
and ready-made lingerie do not obviate the need of neat
mending the setting, in the right place and way, the
timely stitch that saves the nine. A knowledge of the
rudiments of needle-work should be as much a matter
of course as to know the alphabet.
I believe in dolls, too, and dolls' wardrobes and tea-
parties, most of all, when play-house and banquet-hall
are in garden or grove. The bit of fancy-work is to
Mamie what Willie's chest of tools or turning-lathe or
scroll-saw is to him-recreation and practice in dexter-
ous manipulation. Some men and a few women never
learn to use their fingers. When any one of these
Starting Even.
51
pastimes degenerates into a task, it ought not to be
imposed upon the child in vacation. At the mention
of the conventional and obligatory "practicing" we
may well make a long halt.
The world and women are coming to their senses on
this head. It cheers the souls of rational thinkers to
believe that in the next generation the grievous exer-
cise of strumming automatically for one, two, or five
hours per diem upon a black-and-white key-board will
be, at least in the case of legal infants, an unknown im-
position. In our talk about the education of young
women we shall look further and narrowly into the
principle, and criticise the custom of teaching music
indiscriminately. My present plea is for your little girl,
to whom the drudgery of "one, two, three, four" is
penance without a gleam of mitigation or hope of com-
pensation.
"I put my daughters to the piano so soon as they
can reach an octave," said the mother of five daughters,
with virtuous stolidity that left me nothing to say.
"Each of them spends two hours a day at the instru-
ment."
I comprehended then, as by revelation, why, in such
well-officered families, there is but one "instrument."
The suggestion of torture is natural and inevitable.
Mamie's fingers will be supple enough at twelve, or
even at fourteen, to accomplish runs and shakes, should
52
Eve's Daughters.
she by then, discover a decided taste and love for the
long-abused art. Do not-in the absence of indications
of the divine thirst and longing for musical expression
which is genius-sacrifice, diurnally, two hours of sun-
shine and sweet airs and such affluence of innocent de-
light in the mere fact of being alive, as only childhood
ever knows this side of the Land of Eternal Youth, to
the ignoble ambition to have your baby "accomplished."
The Battle of Life you anticipate for her brother will
be a holiday skirmish in comparison with the tedious
struggle that may so probably be hers. Heaven help
her and you!
Should she inherit from parents or from a more re-
mote ancestry, constitutional infirmity or liability—a
score of unpaid forfeits to injured Nature-be quick to
discern and specify these, and let your guard be the
more wise and vigilant. Study her peculiarities of di-
gestion, motion, speech, likings, and antipathies, and
adapt your measures of precaution, correction, and guid
ance to her needs. Give, as the house-mother and ca-
terer, much attention to Dietetics. I am never more
nearly in despair of the physical reformation of my
kind than when I witness the culpable ignorance of
mothers and housekeepers in this respect. Bear with
a few illustrations of my meaning from the vast num-
ber that crowd upon my memory.
Some years ago, while summering in the country, I
Starting Even.
53
saw from my window, one morning, while dressing, a
little urchin, the son of a fellow-boarder, standing ankle-
deep in the dewy grass of the orchard, shaking down
and devouring unripe pears. Knowing that he had not
been well for several days, I took the liberty, after
breakfast, of mentioning the scene to his mother. I
rarely interfere with my neighbors' family government,
but I loved the boy, and knew the mother intimately.
She looked up pleasantly from her book.
'Ah, yes! he spends much of his time there, I fancy.
My experience with children convinces me that little is
gained by watching and prohibition, and no lasting
harm done by letting them eat and drink what they
please. All of mine have a hereditary predisposition
to weakness of the stomach and bowels, which I trust
they will outgrow in time. I never physic them unless
to ease great pain. An attack of cholera morbus
usually sets all right again if the indulgence is carried
too far."
It was none of my business to regulate the family
digestion, and accepting the fact, I let the matter drop.
Sadder thoughts visited me when, ten years thereafter,
her eldest son, a promising lad, died at boarding-school
of peritonitis induced by a midnight supper of crabs,
Welsh rare-bit, pickles, and peanuts. Joe, the little
pear-gatherer, is a tall, slight young man, who will
never be strong, having, his wife laments, "a chronic
54
Eve's Daughters.
trouble." Another boy's college course has been bro-
ken up three times by serious illnesses that have left
him pallid and nervous. Two pretty young daughters,
fragile, even for American girls, are already, at seven-
teen and nineteen, hopeless dyspeptics.
"Actual transgression" did not cease with our
grandfathers' eating of sour grapes. This mothei
loved, and believed that she served her children faith-
fully. For all that, she stands convicted at the bar of
Common Sense, of infant-slaughter.
In grateful relief to this story, let me cite that of
two brothers, whose constitutional peculiarities were
utterly unlike, the one to the other. One fair-haired,
blue-eyed boy was born with an inherited proclivity to
weakness of digestion and laxity of the bowels. The
mother began, when he was not two months old, her
measures for counteracting these tendencies. He took
nothing except the nourishment provided for him by
Nature until his gradual weaning, at nine months of
age, began. The mother had her naturally quick
temper in excellent control, yet I remember seeing her
indignant to wrath one day, when her baby was brought
home by the nurse from a visit to a neighbor, his hands
full of candy and cookies.
"How dared you let him have that poison? You
knew better!" cried the mistress, snatching the sweets
from the fingers that clutched them tightly, and throw-
ing them into the fire.
¿
Starting Even.
55
“I said so, ma'am!" said the girl, eagerly. "I told
Mrs. that you never allowed him to eat such
things. And she told me to say to you, ma'am, that
she has raised ten children of her own, and 'twasn't for
young folks to set themselves up to be wiser nor their
elders."
The mother quieted down instantly.
"This is my child!" was all she said.
It was a recognition of responsibility from which no
advice nor impertinence could absolve her.
In pursuance of her hygienic system, she alternated
his nursing-times with cautious administration of fresh
cow's milk, scalded slightly, and diluted with one-
fourth as much boiling water. Rice boiled soft, or
rice-flour, sometimes thickened it. When his carniv-
orous teeth appeared, he had beef-tea, rare beefsteak
chopped fine, tender chicken and lamb, also minced,
and strengthening greaseless broths. Ice-water, unripe
and stale fruits, cake, pastry, hot bread and griddle-
cakes, pork and veal in all their varieties, were pro-
hibited articles of food even when he was a healthy lad,
with no sign, to the general view, of lurking disease.
The younger son was dark of hair and skin,—a bold,
beautiful fellow, of a nervous-bilious temperament. As
with his brother, the evil that threatened him appeared
almost on the threshold of his life. It was constipa-
tion so stubborn that love and determination, backed
56
Eve's Daughters.
by an intelligent appreciation of the danger of neglect,
rallied promptly to combat it. As diligently as the
mother had sought out wholesome astringents, she now
used laxative food. Indian and oatmeal gruels, baked
and stewed and raw apples, ripe peaches, grapes from
which the seeds were rejected with the skins, milk
warm from the cow, a glass of cold water drunk each
night at bed-time, an orange eaten daily by the youth
as the first course of his breakfast-Graham and corn-
bread, hominy and wheaten "grits"-were some of the
correctives applied to lessen the infirmity. In both
instances, her skill wrought successfully to a complete
cure. In neither did the subjects of the regimen, as
infants or lads, rebel against her will. "Mother thinks
it is not good for me," answered every temptation.
Her sons had learned through her instrumentality
priceless lessons of self-control, faith and obedience,
more useful, if that could be, than the hard-won bless-
ing of health which was the mother's gift.


CHAPTER IV.
HANDICAPPED.
"Three generations of wholesome life might suffice to eliminate
the ancestral poison, for the vis medicatrix naturæ has wonderful effi-
cacy when allowed free play.”—W. R. Greg, “Enigmas of Life.”

ONSTITUTIONAL weaknesses are not to be
laid at the door of our common mother,
Nature. Custom and ignorance have been
meddling so long with her legitimate opera-
tions that she may well decline to recognize in the
modern product more than a pitiable burlesque of the
model.
In the full comprehension of this truth, the sensible,
GOD-fearing mother sees cause for anxiety and care,—
never for despondency. To return to Dr. Holmes's
witty observation relative to the unavoidable tardiness
attendant upon the beginning to set human nature to
rights-you, to whom this girl is committed, are build-
ing, not for this, or the next generation, but for the
century—or two-to come. Nobody except a selfish
58
Eve's Daughters.
?
fool echoes the ne'er-do-well, who, on being reminded
of his obligations to the future, blurted out :-
((
Hang Posterity! I owe it nothing! What will it
ever do for me, I should like to know!"
The Mother is the true representative of Radical
Reform, the "doctor" who "ought to have been called
in a hundred years or so, ago!"
What was the need of such summons then, let Mrs.
Delany, the nurse and beloved prodigy of the court of
George III., tell us. In her "Life and Letters," we read
of sovereign specifics for whooping-cough and other
infantile maladies compounded of saffron, rosemary and
slugs. Earthworms were highly esteemed as a medica-
ment, also wood-grubs, and wine in which vipers had
been put while alive, and left to steep, was drunk
by consumptives. The court-physicians bled fainting
women to relieve "breathlessness." Skilled nurses did
up babies as tightly as they could be rolled, in yards
of swaddling linen; fed royal nurslings, a month old,
on barley water with currants boiled in it, and called
subsequent—we would write boldly, "consequent ”.
convulsions, the mysterious visitation of the Almighty.
It is well to sight such shore-marks once in a while,
that we may really credit the blessed fact of Human
Progress. Since we have learned so much and prac-
ticed so ably upon our knowledge since the year of our
Lord 1750, let us not fear to set our standard well forward.
Handicapped.
59
•
Some of the finest women, physically and mentally,
whom I have ever seen, were famous romps in their
youth-the "half-boys" of Dr. Clarke's disquisition.
All of them during the tom-boy stage lamented secretly
or loudly that they were not their own brothers; regrets
which were heartily seconded by much-enduring moth-
ers and disappointed fathers.
I have now before me the picture of myself at ten
years of age, looking up from the back of my pony into
my father's face, as, in the course of the morning ride
we daily enjoyed together, he was led by my questions
into an exposition of the policy of the old line Whig
Party, so clear and strong, that a duller-witted child
could not have failed to comprehend it. My com-
ments called up a smile and a sigh.
"Ah, my daughter! if you had been born a boy you
would be invaluable to me!”
I hung my head, mute and crushed by a calamity
past human remedy or prevention. There is a pain at
my heart in the telling that renews the real grief of the
moment.
Your girl wants to help her father and to be of use in
the world. Make her feel that a woman's life is worth
living, and that she has begun it. Do not brand her
from the cradle, "Exempt from field duty on account of
physical disability.”
Fifty years ago "legs" was almost a tabooed word
60
Eve's Daughters.
in polite society, and, if Captain Marryatt's evidence is
worth anything, women in the United States did up
the lower limbs of their pianos in frilled mufflers.
Forty years ago, when I came wailing into the nur-
sery to show a knee rasped and bleeding from a fall on
the gravel walk, I was hushed up with, "Fie! what a
word! Little ladies haven't knees; their feet are
pinned to the bottom of their pantalettes!
Thirty years ago, young girls in describing the antics
of "tipping tables," told how "the thing actually lifted
up its-toe-and tapped on the floor."
Only twenty years since, a wife of ten years' stand-
ing, in writing to another woman the account of her
sister's illness and death, mentioned that, three days
before her decease, "her limb became very painful and
began to swell rapidly."
Your Mamie, more fortunate than these adherents to
a mock-modest fashion, is permitted the ownership of
as steady a pair of legs as her brother can boast, un-
veiled by pantalettes; her stockings gartered, the
mother does not blush to say, above the knees, or held
up by an elastic ribbon attached to the waistband. See to
it that she is taught their use as early and as thoroughly
as she acquires the command of her arms and hands.
It is strange that even fashionists and purists should
overlook the importance of developing at this period
the muscles of a girl's hips, thighs, and vertebræ, as
Handicapped.
61
the portions of her frame upon which coming seasons
will lay most weight and strain. We have backboards,
braces, dumb-bells, and calisthenic drills for making
shoulders straight, arms strong, and chests deep. But
it is esteemed hoydenish to run, not to speak of the
danger of making the feet large. The latter objection
obtains to stout walking-shoes with broad toes and low
heels, and preference is given to the narrow French
boot, the tapering heel of which is far enough for
ward to leave a "lovely" small track in mud or dust.
Jumping, racing, and climbing, if not prohibited, are
never encouraged, by those who are bent upon the
cultivation of a "graceful carriage"
graceful carriage" in their young
daughters.
If your ambition in this regard is subordinate to
your desire that Mamie shall be healthy, and comely,
with the free graces of youthful vigor, insist that she
shall walk, winter and summer, and in all weathers,
stepping out as do Willie and Jack instead of mincing
along, pigeon-wise, or tottering above the fashionable
fulcrum set beneath her instep. Let her hold her
shoulders back and head up, and not feel obliged by
decorum to cross or join her hands on the pit of her
stomach and keep them there, skewered by Fashion as
inexorably as the wings of a trussed fowl to its plump
sides.
How many scores of times have you heard school-
62
Eve's Daughters.
girls-and older women-beg, "Give me something to
hold. I never know what to do with my hands in the
street"?
Parasol, fan, a green spray, à la Madame de Stäel, even
an empty envelope is a relief to the gaucherie of those
who never suspect the trouble to be, not with the
hands, but with what our mothers would have desig-
nated as the "lower limbs." They can sit, stand, dance,
but not one in forty knows how to walk. The gliding
step borrowed from the minuet, the tip-toe, the Grecian
bend, are, as Beau Brummel's valet said of the crum-
pled cravats—“ some of our failures." Our streets are
full of slouching women, tripping women, sliding and
skipping women, and—most frequent as most ungrace-
ful among stout, middle-aged matrons-with waddling
women, these carrying their feet so near together that
-to borrow a veterinary phrase-they "interfere" at
every step. Ask your husband or brother what propor-
tion of the ladies whom he escorts on promenade and
picnic fall naturally and easily into step with him; how
many can accomplish a sharp run for train or boat, or
emulate swift Camilla in scouring the plain in chase of
tennis, or croquet-ball.
"It doesn't hurt little girls to run up and down-
stairs," says Grandma, at Mamie's twentieth expedi-
tion to the second story. They are so light upon
their feet."
Grandma has grazed one edge of the truth. Mamie's
Handicapped.
63
feet—and legs-were made for much and lively use, as
nobody knows better than their owner. Sitting still
makes her "fidgetty," at least, until she has become
used to the unnatural state of inaction. Blood, muscle,
and the ceaseless play of electric currents from vein to
nerve which we name "animal spirits," chafe and rebel
into hot mutiny. Mother, aunts and elder sisters
"wonder if it is a physical impossibility for that child to
keep her feet still." It is, or ought to be. Kinder
and wiser Nature incites her continually to run off rest-
lessness in road or field, achieving, meantime, ends far
higher than present gratification. The boy's inability
to keep still for one moment, unless when sick or asleep,
is an acknowledged, well-nigh respected fact. Little
girls are checked, reproved, tutored and trained until
only the tenuous wire of Damascus steel, familiarly
known as feminine will, preserves them from utter loss
of individuality.
Mamie has feet. Do not pinch them at the toe or
raise the heel too high. Continuing the subject, do
not impede circulation or paralyze muscle by tight but-
toning at the ankle or too close ligatures above or be-
low the knee. The clothing about the hips should be
loose and light, the waist uncorseted until it takes on,
of itself, the curves of womanly shapeliness. And let
her play with her brothers, if she has any. If not, with
the best-mannered little boys she knows.
I am not ignorant of the disgraceful truth that some
64
Eve's Daughters.
brothers are not fit playmates for their own, or "other
fellows" sisters. They have "ugly ways," regret
mother and nurse. That is, they have unseemly tricks
of language and action, such as no "little lady" should
hear and see, much less imitate. They abjure all forms
of courteous address; are rude to brutality in their
games and their speech is replete with slang, profanity
and filth. A half, or even quarter-likeness to this type of
nascent manhood is, of all things, least desirable for our
girl-child. For her sake, then, if for no other reason,
would it not be a shrewd measure to make our little
lads—if not "half-girls "—yet enough like them in gen-
tleness of demeanor to one another, and in cleanliness
of tongue to become their sisters' companions in sport
and talk?
The dissociation of the sexes, by the time school-life
begins, is pregnant with hurtful influences to both.
"As coarse and rough as a boy" is the girl's condemna
tion of an over-lively mate, while the boy insults the
schoolfellow less adventurous than himself by declaring
him to be "as lily-livered as a girl." I would have our
boys pure and modest, our girls brave. If the early
practical effect of the system of sisterly or neighborly
intercourse is to make Willie ashamed of his dirty
hands and frowzled hair, and Jack's freckled face to
color beet-red when the oath or ribald word nearly
escapes his tongue, it is a promising experiment. To
Mamie it will open a new world of interest and delight.
Handicapped.
65
She is safer, and assuredly happier, paddling with bared
feet in the sun-warmed brook, or sitting on the bank
catching minnows, or tramping the meadows in quest
of partridge-nests, or building forts,-stone in summer,
snow in winter,—or taking her part in the sham-fights
before and behind the redoubt, than when closeted
with her bosom-friend, to exchange thrilling confidences.
about costumes and gowns in esse and in posse; the last
squabble with the soul-sister's immediate predecessor,
and the "nice fellows" who are reported to have pro-
nounced the palpitating pair to be "just perfectly
lovely."
We sin in allowing the fears, hopes and flutters of
nubility to obtrude, even in imagination, upon this
most susceptible stage of the formative period. There
is vulgar violence in the excitation of coy tremors and
coquettish projects in the mind of one who is as yet
incapable of comprehending the meaning or tendency
of the novel emotions. It is not merely shaking the
dew from the rose-bud, but tearing the delicate involu-
tions apart to let in the sunshine upon the guarded,
immature heart. Premature bloom is imperfection, too
often deformity. Forced fruits lack the flavor of the
summer's prime, the beauty and richness of seasonable-
ness.
I was merry, I was merry,
When my little lovers came,
With a lily or a cherry,
Or some new-invented game."
66
Eve's Daughters.
So, we who were girls thirty years since, used to
sing.
With such sinless offerings let our boys invite their
girl-chums to frolic and fun, unalloyed by dreams of
growth or change. No tone in Nature's music is
sweeter than a child's laugh,-the gush of a stream
that gurgles because it has no depths, no sullen pools,
or foaming rapids. It is an offence to taste and feel-
ing, when, like a dam built within the bed of the brook,
our child begins to long for a woman's name and tri-
umphs. Grace and naturalness take flight hand in hand.
Frankness is exchanged for slyness; the pure straight-
forwardness of the look for side-long glances; the mu-
sical laugh for a simper. The unripe peach begins to
blush outwardly and to toughen within.
Our girl
grows suddenly diplomatic; lays plans for varying her
walk to school that she may, accidentally, on purpose,
meet the boys on their way to the Academy; names
apple-seeds, and tosses the rind into fortuitous hiero-
glyphics; counts a hundred white horses in the street,
sticks "merry thoughts" above the front door, and
puts bits of wedding-cake under her pillow-
Hoping in dreams my true love to see,—
The color of his hair, the clothes he may wear,
And if he be true to me."
The simplest way of delaying the desecration is the
surest.
Handicapped.
67
"If I do not give my children innocent pleasures at
home, they will seek objectionable amusements
abroad,” said a sagacious parent when censured for
allowing dancing and billiard-playing in his own house.
Invite the boys frankly to "come and play with my
little girls," and encourage such forms of diversion as
they can enjoy together. Contrive tea-parties, cha-
rades, reading-circles, and the like pretty imitations of
the amusements of their elders, that shall mingle both
sexes, without exciting sheepishness on one side or co-
quetry on the other. As for the words, "courtship and
marriage," "let them be not so much as named among
them."
Content is best taught to average human beings by
making them as happy as season and circumstance will
permit. Too many good people—even parents-con-
sider their duty done in this line when they have as-
sured their children several hundred times that the
happiest season is their (the children's) Now. That
years will bring responsibilities, trials, losses, affliction,—
a black catalogue that luckily does not daunt the ignorant
little infidels into dread of the Future which they are
sure must be an improvement upon their present con-
dition. Contrary reasoning is without avail. It is bet-
ter to render their daily lives and lot so pleasant that
they will not care to look forward eagerly to untried
scenes, unproved duties.
68
Eve's Daughters.
/As
As one method of avoiding ennui now, and a still
more valuable means of securing for your daughter
comfort and usefulness in the years to come, begin
early to teach her that time is precious to herself and
to others. Assign to her stated duties, and appoint
certain hours for the performance of these. The hap-
py-go-lucky customs of many households reputed to be
well-regulated, have laid broad the foundations of the
proverbially unbusiness-like habits of women. Work,
which may be done at any time, and diligently or lei-
surely at will, is not apt to command a respectable
market-price.
A house-mother in easy circumstances complained to
me:-
“I never find time to read a book, or to make a visit.
I am busy all day, and tired at night. Yet I never ac-
complish anything worth considering. A woman's is
an aimless, useless existence."
"You sew a great deal, probably?" said I sympa-
thizingly.
"I never take a needle in my hand. My seamstress
even darns the children's stockings and mine."
"You give much personal attention to cookery,
then?" I suggested another solution of the puzzle.
"On the contrary, I have no taste for it; and, after
the morning visit of inspection, seldom enter the
kitchen during the twenty-four hours. Yet I am not
Handicapped.
69
idle, and certainly allow myself no time for rest.
the country people would say, I just potter around."
As
Do not let Mamie learn to "potter" or dawdle. If
her morning task be nothing more arduous than the
dusting of her bed-room furniture and the care of her
wash-stand, see that all is done promptly and deftly.
She should dust each chair-round and door-panel, as if
serious issues depended upon the accomplishment of
the business within a given time. Of course, being a
child, she will be tempted to dally about her work; to
drop down into the chair to chat, or to read, or to
dream for "just one second." She will think it of "no
consequence" whether the towels hang straight or
crooked upon the rack, and four mornings out of seven
she will neglect to wash the soap-cup. (If when on a
visit you have a curiosity to know whether your host-
ess superintended in person the preparation of your
bed-chamber, consult the soap-cup. The best hireling
is prone to overlook it.)
Mamie will gird under supervision and schooling in
the "tiresome routine" that soon loses the spice of
novelty. Be patient with murmurs and sour looks.
Women of five times her age and ten times her knowl-
edge of life, cry aloud and spare not husbands and
neighbors under the pressure of "belittling cares";
sigh that they were made for something better and
higher, if they do not finally abandon the house to fate
70
Eve's Daughters.
and servants; close their eyes to dusty tables, button-
less coats, and widening rifts in tiny garments, while
"improving their minds or "getting some pleasure
out of a hum-drum life."
There is but one antidote for this insidious poison
of indifferentism and procrastination. Housework,
sewing, baking, and brewing-all that is included in
the common acceptation of "domestic cares
cares" should
be looked upon and executed as Business.
Mrs. Garfield, the true and worthy wife of one of the
grandest heroes who ever conquered circumstance,-
even the death which was but the slow march to his
apotheosis,—wrote thus to her husband ten years before
his Inauguration-Day:
'I am glad to tell that out of all the toil and disappoint-
ments of the Summer just ended, I have risen up to a victory;
that silence of thought since you have been away has won for
my spirit a triumph. I read something like this the other day:
'There is no healthy thought without labor, and thought makes
the labor happy.' Perhaps this is the way I have been able to
climb up higher. It came to me one morning when I was
making bread. I said to myself, 'Here I am compelled by an
inevitable necessity to make our bread this summer. Why not
consider it a pleasant occupation, and make it so trying to see
what perfect bread I can make?' It seemed like an inspira-
tion, and the whole of life grew brighter. The very sunshine
seemed flowing down through my spirit into the white loaves,
and now I believe my table is furnished with better bread than
ever before; and this truth, old as creation, seems just now to
have become fully mine-that I need not be the shrinking
slave of toil, but its regal master, making whatever I do yield
Handicapped.
71
me its best fruits. You have been king of your work so long
that may be you will laugh at me for having lived so long with-
out my crown, but I am too glad to have found it at all to be
entirely disconcerted even by your merriment. Now, I wonder
if right here does not lie the 'terrible wrong,' or at least some
of it, of which the woman suffragists complain. The wrongly
educated woman thinks her duties a disgrace, and frets under
them or shirks them if she can. She sees man triumphantly
pursuing his vocations, and thinks it is the kind of work he
does which makes him grand and regnant; whereas it is not
the kind of work at all, but the way in which and the spirit
with which he does it."
Mamie, however quick-witted, is, at eight or ten years
of age, quite able to enter into the spirit of this ex-
tract. She may, also, take in something of the inspira-
tion of the idea that if she makes Work noble, Work
will ennoble her. To dignify the "trivial round, the
common task" is an easier undertaking now than when
woman's work was hard and monotonous toil. Neat-
ness and beauty, elegance and economy are readily per-
suaded to dwell in cottage-homes. Mamie must be
encouraged to make her room first clean, then pretty,
as a natural following of plan and improvement. Wild-
flowers are no longer weeds; birds' nests, moss, and
gnarled boughs are æsthetic ornaments. A few yards of
cheap, sheer muslin, draping the frame of her looking-
glass, cushions covered with Turkey red on chairs and
floor, Christmas-cards, clever wood-cuts from illustrated
weeklies and photographs, tacked on doors and walls,
with Mamie's own books on hanging-shelves or other
72
Eve's Daughters.
neat case-make a possessed Paradise to the occupant
of the chamber, a goodly show to other eyes. Make
over the domain to her, to have and to hold, as com-
pletely as the rest of the house belongs to you. So
long as it is clean and orderly, neither housemaid
nor elder sister should interfere with her
eignty.
sover-
Am I dignifying above measure the commonplace
détails, the very plain prose of every-day housekeeping?
It is my steadfast belief that if there is any ground for
the popular opinion of woman's general incapacity for
"business," including the control of her own and her
children's money, it arises from her inexperience in
ownership of any kind whatsoever. From her birth
to her marriage-day an irresponsible, penniless pet, she
is likely with intentions that would honor an angel-
to hamper, perhaps to ruin, her husband.
Jack raises chickens and sells the eggs and "broilers"
to Mamma. Willy splits kindling-wood for the kitchen-
fire and draws his lawful wages from Papa as would any
other laborer. Mamie comes down to breakfast, as gay
as the morning, her hair bound with a blue ribbon that
matches her eyes, waltzes up to Papa, in a gale of affec-
tionate glee, throws her arms around his neck and begs
for a kiss. She gets two and a gold dollar, fished up
from the vest-pocket nearest the paternal heart-" be-
cause she looks so pretty to-day." Being no dullard,
Handicapped.
73
a few repetitions, with variations, of this scene, fix sev-
eral things in her plastic mind.
First, she is glad that she is pretty, not only because
it pleases people to look at her, but because beauty
is clearly a marketable commodity. Mamie, like her
thrifty brothers (and the rest of mankind), finds money
a mighty convenience in this world of barter and sale.
Next, she will be very careful to preserve her good
looks to heighten them by every available means, as
any wise dealer tries to increase his capital.
Lastly, money earned so easily may as well be soon
spent. There is plenty more where that came from. Pa-
pa's pocket is the bank, her prettiness a draft payable at
sight. Spasmodic supply is the mother of extravagance.
Money that comes in surely, but not fast, in return for
regular labor, does not, as a rule, find a wasteful outlet.
Jack and Willy are pretty certain to have savings-banks
on the mantel of their bedroom, or hidden away at the
back of the top-shelf of their clothes-closet, where the
sight of them will not be a constant temptation to
expend the contents. Have you ever given a passing
thought to the dissimilarity of your girls' habits in this
particular? Ever asked yourself or them why they
elect to carry their money in a pocket-book or purse,
and seldom go out of the house without it?
The whole system of the different education of boys
and girls with respect to making, keeping, and spending
74
Eve's Daughters.
money is pernicious, yet fearfully consistent in all its
sections, from the cradle to the tomb of her whom the
laws of most of our States hold as a minor in perpetuity.
Set a reasonable value, then, on Mamie's work and
let her have what she earns. Pay her for picking ber-
ries, hemming towels, shelling peas, and dozens of other
small tasks, stipulating that they must be done well
and "on time." As her ability and industry increase,
advance her wages. Give her practical lessons in the
righteousness of fair and honest transactions by your
own equitable dealing. Let her make out her bills,
keep her own accounts, and never impress her with
the belief that she is a dependent upon you for aught
save love and care. There is no more effectual way of
teaching her to play the interested toady, to truckle
to you or to her father, in servile covetousness when
she wants money.
Multitudes of women hold, with Becky Sharp-envi-
ous of the prosperity of the Pitt Crawleys-that they
could be very good on five thousand pounds a year.
The probability is that they would be more upright in
thought and conduct if their supply of pin-money were
not contingent upon the convenience, which often means
caprice, of their legal masters. Every woman and every
girl has a right to be, in a certain sense and degree, in-
dependent; at any rate, to the extent of holding her
little all in her own name and hands.
Handicapped.
75
The way to learn how to work is to work. In order
to understand how to manage funds one must have
funds to manage.
It is domestic bribery and corruption to recompense
your girl in money for being pretty or well-behaved or
sweet-tempered. She should early be made to feel that
the price of spiritual graces is not to be told in dollars
and cents, and to be modestly grateful to the Giver of
all good for what share of personal charms has fallen
to her lot. She begins to sink toward the level of the
demi-monde in learning to regard these last as a source.
of selfish gains, to calculate and traffic upon her attrac-
tions.
She can not be instructed too soon in the great truth
that care of her body—of its purity, health, and strength
—is a duty she owes to herself, to her kind, and to
GOD.


CHAPTER V.
REVERENCE OF SEX.
"Let her first lesson be, with sweet Susan Winstanley, to rev-
erence her sex."-CHARLES LAMB.

I
T is an uncommon event to meet a woman,
who, if put into the confessional of conscience,
would not own that at some period of her life,
she had wished she had been born a boy. But
an immense majority of the best thinkers and workers
of our sex would aver more freely that they would not
exchange places with their brothers.
So far from being ashamed of their place in the
world, they are too sensible of the responsibility laid
by it upon them to crave another field of action which
is, after all, really no wider or higher.
Still, the healthy, frolicsome little girl treated of in
our last chapter, finds out of, and for herself, the force
of Gaylord Clarke's matter-of-fact man's reply to the
;
77
Reverence of Sex.
strong-minded lecturer upon woman's right to ascend
the tree of knowledge:
"Wimmen is bad climbers. Mostly on account of
they clothes."
Mamie "hates" to wear gloves and wide-brimmed
hats and to be reminded continually that it is not
"lady-like" to swing on gates and ride horses to water,
or to shout, jump, and run races. She dotes on mar-
bles and tops and foot-ball, and when shamed and pulled
out of ring and play-ground by her brothers, testifies to
her femininity by a passionate flood of tears and an out-
cry against the tyranny of gender. To every mother, wise
or simple, the sight of this discontent, which is apt to ri-
pen into open rebellion, must suggest serious misgivings.
"If these things be done in a green tree, what shall
be done in a dry?”
The sooner and more thoroughly your child's mind
is disabused of the low-caste contempt of her woman-
hood, the happier for her, the more promising for the
next generation. Begin, by the time she can under-
stand stories of heroic and valorous deeds, to tell her
what Woman has done for humanity and what she may
do in the future. Forecasting the inevitable night of
tare-sowing and the up-springing of the noxious weeds
of evil fancies and false shame, teach her, in a thousand
ingenious ways, the significance of the inspired words:
"The Temple of the Body."
78
Eve's Daughters.
I thanked GOD and took courage when I saw that in
the Revised Version of the New Testament the term
"vile body" is rendered "body of our humiliation,"
the phrase being antithetical to "the body of His
glory."
It is a disgrace to our civilization that, whereas wom-
an's need of physiological knowledge is pre-eminent—
(essential the unprejudiced thinker and observer would
declare)--the practical study of the laws of anatomy and
hygiene has been, until recently, confined to medical
schools. Even now, as in generations past, the chief
foes to the acquisition of such information are women
themselves. It will not be nice work, but before going
further, let us scrape bare the roots of this rank offense
against ourselves and our race.
It begins very far down and back. Three-year-old
Mamie, full of excited questionings as to "where baby-
brother came from," is told that the doctor brought
him in his pocket; that he was dug up out of the pars-
ley-bed; that a stork flew in at the window with him.
in his mouth; that he was picked up from the door-
step, or a dozen other lies that quiet natural curiosity
for awhile. Two or three years later she detects her
mother in the furtive preparation of tiny frocks and
embroidered flannels, and asks, “for whom?”
"For the poor babies at the orphan asylum," an-
swers Christian Mamma, without a twinge, except re-
Reverence of Sex.
79
gret at her own carelessness that has so nearly betrayed
the secret.
One morning Mamie is summoned to the nursery to
welcome a new occupant of the crib from which "little
brother" was transferred last week to a "real bed."
The plump, downy nestling is clad in a slip and double-
gown which his sister recognizes directly. She raises
rebuking, innocent eyes:
"Mamma! you didn't tell me the truth!"
The mother may laugh off the reproof, or offer other
ingenious falsehoods in extenuation of the first. Most
probably she says then what is sure to come, sooner or
later—“ Little girls must not talk of such things. It
is not proper. Never let me hear of your doing it
again!”
At ten, Mamie persecutes parent and discreet nurse
no longer. At thirteen, she evades knowingly such
shy queries as the mother-whose hand set the first
stone of the division-wall between them, now more than
breast-high-feels it her duty to put about Mamie's
own aches and odd feelings. Servants and school-
mates have initiated her into the mysteries of her, as yet,
undeveloped being, and by their manner of doing it,
made a foul secret of that which is, in truth, her dower,
bearing the seal of the Divine Father. The mother
has been recreant to her trust, through false delicacy
or cowardice. If she could bear the consequences
80
Eve's Daughters.
alone, our pity and reprobation would be less deep.
But instead of eliminating she has planted evil; has
made her child's load heavier in place of lifting it.
The like criminal reserve prevails on the subject of
the general functions of the body. The child never
thinks of reporting irregularities of the digestive and
kindred organs, or of attaching consequence to these in
her own mind. The chances are ten to one if she so
much as knows that she has kidneys and liver,-ten
thousand against one that she is ignorant of their posi-
tion and offices. "Stomach" is her generic name for
the abdominal region in its depth and breadth; "back"
for the entire length of the spinal column. Heart,
lungs and bronchial tubes are interchangeable terms
when she attempts to define the position of any disor-
der in the cavity above the diaphragm, and she does
not know her hips from her thighs. Still more misty
are her ideas of the cause of the divers bodily inconven-
iences she endures. She is terrified by a sharp stitch
in "the heart," which proves to be an attack of colic;
mistakes dumb nausea for a threatening swoon; can not
find the pulse in her own wrist, and would resent as
"perfectly horrid" the intimation that the queer swim-
ming in her brain, occasioned, she imagines, by exces-
sive study, bears the same relation to constipation that
the stagnation of waters at the head of a sewer does to.
the obstruction at its mouth.
Reverence of Sex.
8.1
I have known girls, and matrons old enough to be
grandmothers, who pushed ignorant complacency to
the fatuity of boasting that the calls of Nature upon
them averaged but one or two demands per week.
They found it "a great convenience and sustained no
real injury from the infrequency of the habit."
Mamie's breath is bad, Mamma remarks, sometimes,
and sends the child to brush her teeth with charcoal
paste and wash her mouth thoroughly with myrrh-and-
water, instead of questioning narrowly with what stuff
she has been outraging her stomach, and whether in
the matter of drain-pipes the exquisitely-delicate ma-
chine is in perfect working order. Nature scorns the use
of patent gas-traps; yet kindness blends with justice in
her exposure of wrong-doing, the flagrant defiance of
her governmental ordinances.
I am amazed many times a year, at the crass igno-
rance of otherwise intelligent people, of the body, its
operations, maladies and the methods of regulating
these. One of my children was once taken suddenly
ill at a country hotel where we were passing the sum-
mer. It was late at night; we were far from town and
the doctor, and my husband was absent. I consulted
the landlady, a "smart" motherly body, who told me
she had "doctored" in her own family for twenty
years, and with success. The little one was in a high
fever; his breath was quick and distressingly broken.
}
82
Eve's Daughters.
by acute pain in the right lung-"like a knife," he
sobbed, “right under the shoulder." He had no head-
ache and no nausea. His sister reported that he had
sat down, that afternoon, on the grass, while heated
with play. There had been a mountain shower at mid-
day and the turf was wet.
"He's eaten something that's disagreed with him,'
pronounced the worthy hostess.
"That's generally
what ails children. I'll just fetch up the fennel brandy.
That'll bring him around all right.”
While we discussed the symptoms, an elderly gentle-
man, who had been all around the world and used his
eyes and ears rationally, knocked at the door to offer a
bottle of cholera medicine, compounded according to a
prescription he had obtained in Bombay. The next
visitor to the sick-room was a pretty mother from the
city, who "always gave paregoric whatever was the
matter with her three babies." A Bostonian had like
faith in a cloth wet with Pond's Extract of Witch
Hazel and bound over the affected part. One and all
looked doubtful when I, persisting in the belief that
the patient was threatened with pleurisy, called for a
hot foot-bath with a handful of mustard stirred in, and
applied an Indian-meal-and-pepper poultice to the seat
of the knife-like pain.
A physician was sent for, but did not arrive until
nine o'clock next morning. By that time fever and
Reverence of Sex.
83
suffering had passed off in gentle perspiration, the child
had slept quietly for several hours and awakened con-
valescent.
"All the better for the regular practitioner," said the
man of healing, when I quoted the diagnoses and ad-
vice with which I had been favored. "When mothers
understand their children's ailments, and how to re-
move them, three-fourths of our occupation will be
gone."
I honor the regular profession from the depths of a
grateful heart. All the same I was thankful for the
very little knowledge that held me back from heighten-
ing my boy's fever by administering brandy and as-
tringents and confounding the pleura with the abdo-
men.
The pseudo delicacy that drives the pure-hearted
child away from the one who should be her confidante.
and teacher, to the prurient whisperings of the school-
fellow who stays all night with her almost every week,
or the vulgar gossiping of servant-girls, is no new
idiosyncrasy of well-meaning mothers. Scruples and
habit have come down to them (again) "by ordinary
generation." They bear date of the artless shepherdess
and Laura-Matilda age. My maternal grandmother
(rest her sweet soul!) set down her only daughter at
fourteen to read aloud to her the entrancing histories
of Clarissa and Pamela, pages sown thick with seduc-
84
Eve's Daughters.
tion and abduction, while the listener composedly netted
cobweb laces and tamboured bed-hangings preserved
unto this day as marvels of dainty handiwork. Yet
this true and loving gentlewoman never lisped to the
growing girl a word relative to the perils incident to
her sex and age, and when the crisis arrived, alluded to
it distantly, as "one of the things which, as Holy Writ
informs us, are not convenient to be spoken of."
Hundreds of girls were killed every year by their
frantic resort to cold baths and cognate appliances, in
the height of their terror and mortification at the ap-
pearance of the detested yet unknown enemy of their
personal comfort. Thousands lingered through lives
which were "nothing but a continual death," to trans-
mit to their children the infirmities fixed upon them-
selves by neglect and mistaken modesty. These are
not experiences of which women like to talk even to
intimate friends of their own sex. Yet I could verify
each of the assertions I have just made, by stories of
agony, more or less heroically borne; of bodies warped
by torture; of shattered intellects; of blighted hopes;
a record that ought to make men wonder and women
blush at the unwitting barbarity of tender mothers, the
persecution with sneer and scoff, of shrinking, tender
girls, shamed and baited by those of their own sex.
The wrong was horrible-monstrous! Those who
are now middle-aged women reaped the reward of their
Reverence of Sex.
85
parents' mistake in a harvest of "peculiar" maladies
that terrified sufferers and observers into a spasm of
common sense. The Representative American woman
of the period comprised between '45 and '75, should be
painted with her hand on the lumbar region, eyes hol-
low and complexion chlorotic. Prolapsus uteri became
almost as common as toothache, and the fearful disease
was not confined to married women. Science, aroused
and unwilling to admit itself at a loss to account for
the prevailing evil, assailed existing follies of dress,
sedentary habits, late hours, excessive dancing, as the
cumulative causes of the mischief. The women of
the day were held responsible for their own suffer-
ings. It was assumed that each had begun her exist-
ence with a flawless constitution, and that patient,
long-suffering and ever-recuperative Nature had been
outraged and alienated by the diseased woman's indi-
vidual iniquity. To point the moral of feminine deca-
dence, writers and speakers invoked the ghosts of our
hale, busy grandmothers. These being dead, told no
tales, and the wan-faced sisterhood held on their pain-
ful pilgrimage, convicted, if not convinced. As Eve's
Daughters, multiplication of sorrow was their heritage;
-thus ran the general reasoning. If one escaped the
doom, it was by accident.
Few were clear-eyed or cool enough to see and to de-
clare that the degeneration was not the work of one or
86
Eve's Daughters.
two cycles, or to lament, with our shrewd Autocrat,
that the right man was not sent for in the seventeenth
century.
I, for one, am weary to disgust, of the prating of su-
perficial scientist and conceited ignoramus of the deeds
and ways of our sound grandmothers. The average of
woman's life is longer now than it was a century ago.
Our girls would be more healthy than were their grand-
mothers or great-grandmothers of Mrs. Delany's time,
were it not for the legacy of proclivities and well-de-
veloped maladies bequeathed by those worthies. Else
the march of medical science is a myth, the bustling ar-
ray of surgical instruments, the parade of preventives.
and curatives sadly familiar to us all, a mere show of
Quaker guns" in the face of the enemy.
It is necessary, in your survey of Mamie's chances of
health and longevity, that you should review this dark
history. It may be-which, may Heaven forbid !—that
you, my sister, can read the story much more distinctly
than can I, because you scan it in the electric light of
experience. You may find in your own body the wit-
ness that these things are true. If so, there is the more
reason why you should lose no time in correcting the
marred work which is but too likely to show itself in
your offspring.
One rule should be absolute in every home. The
mother should keep her daughter with, and near her,
Reverence of Sex.
*
87
until the turning-point between childhood and girl-
hood is safely passed and regularity of habits is estab-
lished. When Mamie approaches you with the inev-
itable—and, I submit, perfectly natural and proper-
questionings about the Unknown Country peopled by
unborn infants, tell her that GOD sends them to the
earth in charge of His holy angels; that since babies
must have fathers to work for them abroad, and moth-
ers to tend them at home, He waits until after marriage
before He gives them. Say it so simply and solemnly
as to calm curiosity. As seriously and frankly take her
into your confidence before the advent that occurs
when she is from six to ten years of age.
A modest, sensible woman once told me how she sat-
isfied her little girl's inquiry, "How do you know that
GOD is going to give us another baby?"
"I told her," said the wise mother, "that since the
wee darling must be fed with proper food so soon as it
is born, our Heavenly Father prepares in advance
the bosom of the mother to furnish it. She, becom-
ing conscious of this provision, knows of the blessing
in store for her, and makes ready the clothing that will
be required."
A child who is accustomed to be treated as a rational
being will receive this truthful-if partial-statement.
in good faith, and be the more ready to obey your oft-
urged injunction that she shall come to you with all
88
Eve's Daughters.
such questions and perplexities, instead of discussing
them with ignorant servants who can not instruct her
properly, or with wicked school-children who will prac-
tice upon her credulity and make her imagination as
foul as are theirs. Prepare the way, meanwhile, for fur-
ther and fuller knowledge, by teaching her the sanctity
and value of her own body in all its parts. Give nur-
sery lectures to extremely select audiences, talking
easily and plainly of the offices of the various organs
and secretions. Your daughters will soon understand
that to eat indigestible food is sinful for other rea-
sons than because you have forbidden the indulgence
and that constipation is unclean; that the bath is a
means of grace in keeping the pores from getting
clogged with impure exudations, which, if turned in
upon the system, breed ill-health and ill-temper; that
exercise in the open air sets the blood in lively circula-
tion, and plenty of sleep renews the cellular tissues rap-
idly expended by growing children. Lead on thus in
wisdom and purity through the alphabet of physiology.
Be tactful in all that you impart, squeamish in nothing.
In a word, tell her "why." As she gains in years.
and intelligence, go further into the mystery of Life.
Get some good familiar treatise upon Botany,—I know
of none better than Gray's "How Plants Grow,”—and
read with her of the beautiful laws of fructification and
reproduction. Her mind thus prepared will adopt,
Reverence of Sex.
89
without shock to belief or modesty, the analogy be-
tween plant-growth and human propagation, will recog-
nize in the influence of the fallen pollen, or prolific
powder, upon the stigma of the flower, resemblance to
the effect wrought by such affectionate intimacy of the
sexes, the living and loving together in one home, the
heart-garden, as is exhibited in the continual compan-
ionship of husband and wife. The thoughtful student
of vegetable life needs no elaborate French treatise—
a tissue fine-drawn into fanciful tenuity—upon the
"Loves of Flowers," to teach him the beautiful truth.
that they do thus woo, and love, and enjoy.
As a successive step in your physiological and botan-
ical analogies, and a firm platform for your feet, impress
upon your pupil the force of this one of Dr. Clarke's
axioms:-
"No organ or function in plant, animal, or human
kind, can be properly regarded as a disability or source
of weakness. Through ignorance or misdirection it
may limit or enfeeble the animal or being that mis-
guides it; but rightly guided and developed, it is either
in itself a source of power and grace to its parent stock,
or a necessary stage in the development of larger grace
and power."
Bidding your girl hold fast to this cardinal truth, say
to her that GOD in the beginning created man male
and female. If you can not easily obtain a few ana-
90
Eve's Daughters.
tomical plates showing the shape and relative position
of the principal organs of the woman's body, explain
these as clearly as you can in words. Tell her that on
either side of a small sac, which is the womb, is an oval
gland known to anatomists as an "ovary." That each
of these two glands holds a certain number of minute
vesicles, which, in the due and regular course of a
healthy girl's life—usually about the age of fourteen in
temperate climates-are matured and separated from
the ovary, one every four or five weeks. That the re-
sult of this (always natural) ripening and separation is a
periodical flow, called the menses. Do not be afraid to
say to her when you have thus trained and prepared
her to receive the communication, that these vesicles
are ova,—eggs in the animal, seed in the plant,—and
that from these, by some mysterious law of the loving
oneness of the married state, are evolved the germs of
living human beings. That thus children become in a
wedlock blessed and honored by GOD.
This is the plain truth—and all of it!
What a thing of purity is it beside the trickeries of
ribald-mongers, the meretricious maunderings of sensa
tional fiction; the phantoms created in the imagina-
tions of timid school-children by hints and double-en-
tendre, and midnight confabulation upon themes which
any girl who cherishes a spark of moral decency would
blush to speak of by daylight!
Reverence of Sex.
91
Bring your daughter face to face with the serious
dignity of the revelation, and you need not fear lest.
she will ever make it the theme of unseemly jests.
The knowledge thus imparted will become to her a
sacred trust.
I quote, with pleasure, in this connection, a strong,
pertinent paragraph from one of our leading journals* :
"The
regards with 'feelings akin to hor-
ror,' the proposal made in Scribner's Monthly that girls
should be taught physiology complete at schools, in-
stead of being educated in ignorance of knowledge nec-
essary to the health and well-being of every woman liv-
ing in an artificial civilized society. Plainly, the fools
are not all dead yet.
66
'Knowledge never yet destroyed delicacy; igno-
rance does and much else-health, life, and character."
There is the quintessence of a powerful moral and
physiological treatise in the two concluding lines.
As I transcribe them, memory supplies a pictured
commentary dated thirty years agone-a time very
close to the threshold of the good old days of our
hale and honest grandmothers. Physiology—even in-
complete was a novelty in schools then, and an inno-
vation at which most parents and guardians looked
askance. In one Young Ladies' Seminary a teacher of
* Springfield Republican, March 6, 1881.
j
92
Eve's Daughters.
:
advanced views effected a bold departure from ancient
customs by the introduction of an expurgated text-
book on the important topic. That it was very expur-
gated I gathered from glancing over the volume while
waiting for an audience with the teacher in the recita-
tion-room one morning, the class being in session.
There were ten young ladies in line of recitation, their
ages varying from fifteen to eighteen. They were sum-
moned as the "Senior Class in Physiology." The ex-
amination was prosy for a while, consisting of pointed
questions, requiring set replies, these being correct, but
listless. Then to a girl of sixteen, sitting midway
down the row of pupils, came a test example. A
chalk sketch of a skeleton was upon the blackboard,
and this young lady was told to designate and name
the various parts of the human frame. She stepped
forward, a light stick in hand, and touching each part
in naming it, began at the cranium with "os frontis,'
os occiput," supplying English and Latin terms flu-
ently and intelligently. The teacher listened com-
placently, interrupting her at intervals with the
request that she would mention the specific office
of this or that organ. As the pupil neared the
lower ribs, I detected a covert and disagreeable smile.
on the least intellectual countenance before me.
The owner nudged her neighbors at the right and left,
and the meaning grin spread. The slender rod came
Reverence of Sex.
93
on steadily down, until, as the unconscious girl pro-
nounced "the pelvis," a titter, suppressed only to ex-
plode in a laugh, drew her attention to the scene be
hind her. Every one of her fellows was smiling or gig-
gling, some under cover of books opened to hide their
blushes, some overtly in malicious amusement. The
teacher rapped on her desk and cried "Order!" The
pupil essayed to proceed; reiterated the unlucky word,
voice trembling, cheeks burning, and eyes full of indig-
nant tears. There was a second and more offensive
titter. She dropped the rod, threw both hands before
her face, and rushed from the room.
Within a decade I have had a report of a lecture de-
livered by the fifty-year-old spinster professor of Physi-
ology in a Woman's College, in which the members of
the class were informed that should any one of them
wish to retire before the discussion of the next subject
in order, opportunity would be afforded in which she
could make her escape. The teacher regretted-sin-
cerely deplored-the necessity laid upon herself to al-
lude, however distantly, to a topic fraught with pe-
culiar delicacy. She could not blame any young lady
who might shun the lesson of the hour. It was very,
very disagreeable. The subject was that treated of in
this work under the title, "The Rhythmic Check."
Scruples and scenes such as these are the product of
the quasi-modesty—which we, in our honest wrath, brand
94
Eve's Daughters.
as lewd squeamishness-of an era scourged by diseases
that were the direct outcome of “ignorance of knowl-
edge necessary to the health and well-being of every
An
woman living in an artificial civilized society."
age that held the summum bonum of woman's purity to
be the complacent contemplation of herself as an ultra-
cherubic creation—all head, shoulders, arms, hands, and
feet, with a sublimated indication of "figure"-was
quite sure to bequeath to the generation following
such forms of what the author of "Enigmas of Life"
writes down "damnosa hereditas," as should keep
daughters and grand-daughters humble and mindful of
every section of their misfitted frames.
Seize the opportunity, while your better-instructed
girl is intent upon the study of this new leaf in self-
acquaintanceship, to awaken in her the sense of per-
sonal accountability to her sex and to those who shall
stand alive upon the earth in later days than yours or
hers. When Tupper, at the date when expurgated
works upon Physiology were a trifle strong for the
taste of educated young ladies, advised Cœlebs, in his
choice of a wife, to be mindful of “them whom the
Lord shall give thee of her," there was a shuddering
shriek of deprecation from decorous mothers and mar-
riageable daughters at the "horrid indelicacy” of the
suggestion. If the testimony of these is to be received,
the faith of Abraham, who, when he was called, went
Reverence of Sex.
95
out, not knowing whither he went, was a will-o'-the-
wisp by contrast with the bright shining trust of the
young girl who is led, by way of the marriage altar, to
'that new world which is the old." In every instance
this is childish farrago. In many cases the husband
finds the unsophisticated angel, whose imagination he
believed to be unsmirched as new-fallen snow, as well-
versed in the lore and phraseology of "inconvenient
things," as is he who does not affect to deny the
ownership of garners bursting with harvested wild
oats.
Since your girl will and must ponder and lay up in
her heart what she has learned, direct her thoughts into
the right channel. Set before her a pure ambition in-
stead of leaving her to worse than idle dreams.
Mrs. Lelia G. Bedell, of Chicago, an eminent phy-
sician and writer upon the subtlest of physiological
mysteries, has this striking passage in one of her let-
ters to me:
Pre-natal influences (or what are generally implied
by this expression) are of vital importance, but are
vastly surpassed by the value of proper influences of
habit and environment all the way from the cradles of
the boy and girl babies until they have ceased their
functions as parents.
((
'The fœtus in utero is not more susceptible to influ-
ences than the separate cells of which it is formed in
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Eve's Daughters.
the separate generative glands of both parents through-
out their entire lives.
"Herein is True Heredity."
The imagination hesitates to grasp the full import of
this saying. Yet what does it teach us that we did not
know already—at least, in part? That none of us liv-
eth unto himself and none of us dieth unto himself.
That your child, in the neglect of her commonest duty,
risks the comfort of others. That the invisible, but
potential moral and spiritual "sphere" of influence is
not a mystic's dream. That in moulding ourselves we
are building for Time and for Eternity. The inspired
prophecy touching the "idle word" takes an intenser
meaning when read by this lamp-as does the thought
that projects the word.
The destinies of the races who shall people the globe
in the year of Our Lord 1950 are held by the boys and
girls of To-Day-pre-eminently by the latter.
"I care not who makes the laws of a country if I
may write the songs," said one who had studied Nature
and Man to good purpose.
You the mother of a living child, may take up the
boast in spirit, if not in word :
"I care not who may deposit the ballots at the polls
if I may but bear and rear the voters, may train the
voters' wives and mothers!"

CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST TURNING-POINT.
Pepper helps a man on his horse, but a woman into her grave."
-German Folk-Saying.

LL climacterics are attended with more or less
peril. The transition period in religion, gov-
ernment, or individual, is one which calls for
wisest care and vigilance.
If there are dormant seeds of disease in your daugh-
ter's constitution, they will probably spring up under
the conditions that bring about the first budding of
womanhood. For some months prior to the positive
appearance of signs which indicate that she has reached
the first turning-point in her physical life, your watch-
ful eye recognizes the heralds of the change. Nervous.
disorders to which she is a stranger, terrify her and
make you uneasy. Her grandmother's headaches-a
tradition of dread in the family-have leaped a gener-
ation to fall, an unexpected curse, upon the descendant
98
Eve's Daughters.
whose resemblance to that honored woman has, until
now, been your pride. Mamie has morbid cravings of
appetite, and suffers after eating things that never dis-
agreed with her before. She is hysterical upon insuf-
ficient provocation. Her father and brothers are im-
patient with her babyish tears and attacks of "temper-
ache"; laugh at her lackadaisical ways. The boys
protest loudly that she is "no fellow at all, since she
has taken to moaning and moping." If her tastes are
literary, she composes low-spirited verses on the back-
porch in moonlight promenades or while roaming the
fields at sunset, and writes them out on tear-blistered
pages, when she ought to be in bed. However sensible
she may be naturally, she inclines now to sentimentality
and the belief that she is not "appreciated." Or, she
systematically depreciates herself—a more occult phase
of vanity. She was "put into the world to fill up a
chink," she laments to her dearest friend, and may be
heard crooning to herself at night-fall such stuff as
Now when the stream of tears is widẹ,
My willowed harp to this is strung,
Oh! how I wish that I had died
When mind was pure and form was young!"
If no sympathetic confidante is accessible she writes
out what she denominates her "cries of the heart," in
the journal kept secreted at the bottom of her bureau-
drawer, under an innocent-looking pile of underclothes.
The First Turning-Point.
99
It is an excellent safety-valve for these unwholesome
gases for her to keep such a diary. She will burn the
blotted book with shame and laughter, five years from
this time, but it hurts nobody now, and she feels better
for having had her cry—and her say.
In the surgical phrase with which we have grown
grieffully conversant since our national dies ira, July 2,
1881, such expression is a pus-channel by which morbid
and gangrenous humors may be drained away.
The girl's whole system is in a ferment under the
stealthy advance of the consciousness of sex. To her
inexperience her physical inconvenience is not referable
to a common origin with her unsettled flurries of mood,`
her spiritual malaise. It is for you, her mother, to hold
steady the poise of your own judgment, to bear and to
forbear with the "trying child." Time, with the ally
of your good sense, will clarify the wine of her life
unless there be at the bottom of the shaken cup the
poison of a constitutional malady. For this you must
be alert, ready to meet symptom with palliative, and,
if practicable, disease with remedy.
The nicest discrimination should be exercised in the
duty of being considerate with real suffering without
fostering whims into. confirmed foibles. If sympathy
with fancied woes is injudicious, ridicule is cruel.
Hearken lovingly always, even when you withhold ap.
proval. Encourage by precept and example, cheerful-
100
Eve's Daughters.
ness and active simplicity of daily habits. Keep the
girl as much in the open air as may be; let her exercise
regularly, but not violently; give especial attention to
her diet and see to it that she gets enough sleep. With
these precautions there is little reason to fear any ab-
normal conditions in the primary indications that "the
change" has actually begun.
Dr. Napheys, who should know what he is saying,
affirms,—“More or less pain, more or less prostration
and general disturbance at these epochs are universal
and inevitable.”*
Admitting this, and granting to our girl the tender
regard which has been hers in every distress and pain
since her birthwail, do not let her pet her indisposition,
or fall into the easily-contracted habit of skulking be-
hind it as a sufficient excuse for fretfulness or indo-
lence. She must be made to understand that it is
cowardly to cringe or lament under her share of
woman's appointed lot, or to shirk her given lesson in
the practice of womanly fortitude. And, after all, in-
telligent management may and will reduce the suffering
to a mere inconvenience, the discomfort to a minimum.
To compass this, secure the girl's co-operation, or the
difficulties of your task will be multiplied a hundred-
fold. Establish in your mind the truth that her child-
* Napheys' "Physical Life of Woman,” p. 25.
The First Turning-Point.
ΙΟΙ
hood is virtually over. You can drive her back into
the nursery with, "Do this," and "I forbid that," and
enforce the old penalties of disobedience, but you
weaken your future influence by such arbitrary rule.
It is an exercise of mental muscle that will avail little
when the subject's character acquires strength equal to
yours.
I know a devoted mother who attempts to carry out
with her four girls-all of whom are over fourteen—
the espionage and regimen of childish days. The most
apparent result of her tactics is to fill her own life with
uneasiness, that of her daughters with mortification,
and the souls of her friends with alternate pity and
amusement. She will cover her twenty-year-old young
lady with chagrin and confusion by persisting in feeling
the soles of her shoes on her return from an evening
stroll along dry pavements in care of a trustworthy
escort; forbids a sister of seventeen, in audible tones
across the table, to touch the mince-pie laid upon her
plate by the hostess with whom they are dining, and
breaks off the youngest's fun at a school-girl party,
exactly at half-past eight-" the proper bed-time for
growing children," she announces, magisterially.
Promises and pledges pass with her for nothing.
She will see for herself that her mandates are obeyed
to the letter. Parental responsibility is not to be
evaded by any quip of sophistry or twist of personal
102
Eve's Daughters.
conscience. It would be extraordinary were she in-
variably or frequently obeyed cheerfully, and yet more
remarkable if her charges yielded her affectionate
respect.
We may as well assume, without useless argument,
that it is the nature of crude growth to be unreason-
able and of youthful ignorance to be rash, and order
our counsels diplomatically. Remember that the novel
trammel fits tightly upon shoulders and back, and ease
the galling whenever you can. The very training that
has carried Mamie safely over the first stage of the
divergent route, predisposes her to restiveness under
unusual restraints, and needful precaution. Seek to
establish perfect confidence between yourself and your
child, if you have never done this until now. She
must trust you and you must omit no means that may
prove you worthy of this faith. Cement the alliance
by showing that you can help her in adjusting mind
and body to the new order of obligation and discipline.
As you have made life easy and light heretofore, render
it comfortable at this juncture.
As we shall see, some chapters further on, few girls
need to deviate from the ordinary routine of duty and
pleasure for a longer time than two days at most.
Thus early in the race, every peculiarity of the season
must be noted and remembered. Severe cramps in the
abdomen and intense aching in the small of the back
The First Turning-Point.
103
are generally to be considered as indices of local weak-
ness, or as the effect of cold or imprudence. Ginger
tea, as hot as it can be swallowed, should be adminis-
tered when the pain is great. The sufferer should be
put to bed and a bottle of hot water applied to her
feet. Should the cramping twinges continue, try
strong gin and water, very hot; and lay warmed, dry
flannel over the affected region. For the aching back
-should it be slow in recovering its normal strength-
an Allcock's porous plaster is an excellent comforter,
combining the sensation of the sustained pressure of a
strong warm hand with certain tonic qualities devel-
oped in the wearing. It should be kept over the seat
of the uneasiness for several days,-in obstinate cases,
for perhaps a fortnight. The practice of giving elixir
of opium, laudanum, or paregoric to lull the pain of
the periodical indisposition, should never be resorted
to without the advice of a physician. Scores of women
have thus laid the foundation of habits that wrecked
health, happiness, and life.
As prevention is better than cure, build up your
girl's constitution to resist these stated assaults upon
strength and patience without permanent injury or
more than trifling discomfort. While hesitating to
subscribe in full to Dr. Napheys' declaration that "Nat-
ure is no tender mother, but a stern step-mother, who
punishes us for disregarding her laws," we agree cor-
104
Eve's Daughters.
dially in the sense of the concluding words of the para-
graph:
"Soft couches, indolent ease, highly-spiced food,
warm rooms, weak muscles-these are the infractions
of her rules which she revenges with rigorous, aye, mer-
ciless severity."
So soon as the periodical ordeal, or inconvenience
(whichever it may be, our girl votes it "a nuisance")
has passed for the month, she should resume her active
pursuits the diurnal plunge or sponge-bath; her
walks, rides, and housework. Should the recent inflic-
tion have been unusually heavy, she must be especially
conscientious in keeping up gentle exercise in the fresh
air, lengthening her walks and drives as she regains
vigor. The flaccid muscles need keying up—a process
performed by steady, sustained effort, not severe exer-
tion.
A young friend of mine came home in mid-session
from one of our women's colleges in a deplorable state
of health. The periodical functions of which we have.
been speaking had been intermitted for five months;
she was bloated in figure, and in color livid; and ex-
cruciating headaches forbade study or even reading.
The family physician had too much real business on
hand to care to work up "a case," and wasted neither
technicalities nor medicine upon her.
"Set her to doing housework," was his prescription.
The First Turning-Point.
105
"Work, mind you!-not play. Sweeping, dusting,
making beds, washing dishes, and all the running of
errands in-doors and out that you would demand of
waitress or chambermaid."
In less than six weeks, regularity, and with it health,
were restored.
This obligation to active employment is a cord that
works two pulleys at once. The best corrective to
morbidness of body, it also shakes dust and cobwebs
and mildew out of brain and heart; stirring the blood
into healthy circulation; giving tone to that marvelous
reticulation of sensitive gossamer which so involves
and contains the vitality of the American woman that
she thinks it no shame to be called, and to know her-
self as "all nerve"; and, in fine, supplying that prime
need of a human being-something to do.
I think it is a Turkish proverb which tells us-
"Dreaming goes afoot, but who can think on horse-
back?"
A houseworker, too, must have all her wits within
easy call, and the expediency of this begets the prac-
tice of "minding what she is about," at all events,
while her hands are thus actively engaged. Longings
for fullness of intellectual sympathy; heart-cries for
appreciation and reciprocation of nameless yearnings;
bemoanings over "unkissed kisses" and the wasted
shower upon broken reeds-are deferred, perforce, un-
106
Eve's Daughters.
til the more convenient season that can not come until
"things are set to rights." A comprehensive term,
this, the scope of which the busy maiden does not sur-
mise then nor ever, perhaps, until as a sensible matron
she sets her romantic daughters in the groove that
"took the nonsense out" of herself.
Great attention must be paid, not only at this epoch,
but in directly ensuing years, to the care of the skin.
I do not mean of the complexion, although it will tell
its tale in time, of duty done, or of neglect. The grow-
ing girl, whether her habit be full or spare, will, in the
process of maturing, throw off, in perspiration, sensible
or invisible, gross and pestilent humors that would else
result in pyæmia, or cutaneous eruptions.
The late Dr. W. W. Hall, the editor of Hall's Journal
of Health, and the pioneer of Common Sense in Medi-
cine, said aptly that it is time for the acknowledg-
ment of the truth that human beings are not aquatic
fowls. He condemned "the continual and unseason-
able dabbling and dipping in vogue among intelligent
people—particularly hurtful when the immersion is in
cold water." His recommendation, in lieu of this
wholesale "dabbling," was a daily sponge-bath quickly
and lightly performed, and thorough ablution of the
upper part of the body with soap and water, every
morning.
I believe that the penitential plunge into the chilling
The First Turning-Point.
107
bath, untempered by so much as a teacupful of warm
water, executed by hundreds with more pious regularity
than are their devotions, sends many yearly to untimely
graves. It is undoubtedly injurious in all cases when
the reactionary glow does not ensue by the time the
skin is rubbed perfectly dry. As a method of cleansing
the body, it is, in every way, inferior to the work done
with a sponge, or coarse linen cloth and a quart of
hot water. The pores contract instantly under the
dash of the cold liquid, shutting in effete matter with
dust gathered from without, and do not expand until
the friction, which is the saving clause in the operation,
brings the blood, with restored warmth, to the surface.
The puckering of the skin vulgarly termed “ goose-
flesh," caused by a sudden chill and which roughens
the entire surface of the shivering bather, is temporary
congestion of the pores. They do no work while this
continues.
Dr. F. L. Oswald, in an interesting series of papers
upon "Physical Education," published in the Popu-
lar Science Monthly, says of the bath :-
A bucketful of tepid water will do for ordinary
purposes. Daily cold shower-baths in winter-time are
as preposterous as hot drinks in the dog-days. Rus-
sian baths and ice-water cures owe their repute to the
same popular delusion that ascribes miraculous virtues
to nauseating drugs,—the mistrust of our natural in-
108
Eve's Daughters.
stincts, culminating in the idea that all natural things
must be injurious to man, and that the efficacy of a
remedy depends on the degree of its repulsiveness."
Every girl and every woman should wash thoroughly,
down to the waist, at least once a day with soft water,-
in winter with tepid,-and plenty of soap, and sponge
the whole person, especially in warm weather. Should
she perspire freely, and this rule should be absolute
when the exudations tinge her linen yellow-she must
make free use of hot water, with a few drops of am-
monia added, sponging this off by copious dashes of
cold water. This practice must be followed by her in
all seasons, and with redoubled care in cases where
after fatigue or excitement, a disagreeable odor is
emitted by the 'perspiring skin. The unfortunate pe-
culiarity just mentioned,-less uncommon than we are
willing to allow ourselves to remember, and never
hinted by tongues polite to those who are the subjects
thereof,—is usually classified among incurable idiosyn-
crasies, along with foetid breath and more repugnant
still, to refined senses-ill-smelling feet. It is so offen-
sive to others, so humiliating to the one thus affected,
so nauseating when blended with the perfumes to which
the victims often resort in the futile hope of over-
powering the effluvia, that I may be excused for the
bluntness of speech prompted by a desire to supply
a practical palliative of the evil. Abatement of the
The First Turning-Point.
109
plague that is almost remedial, is found in the regimen
I have described. The arm-pits, and all creases and
folds of flesh and skin, ought, in such instances, to be
cleansed twice a day,-oftener in summer-with water
as hot as can be borne, and with old soap,-Castile is
best. Shun cologne-water and perfumed essences. If
you use volatile liquids in bathing, alcohol is better
than anything that professes to be fragrant. In the
second water, which must also be hot, mix ten drops.
of aqua ammonia, and, lastly, sponge freely with cold
water. Frequent changes of linen are also indispen-
sable, and night-dress and bed-clothes should be aired
so soon as the bed is left in the morning.
There are seasons when, as every old woman knows,
the cold bath must be omitted. These are also the
times when the warm or tepid should be most sedu-
lously applied. The feet should never be plunged into
very cold water. Grave evils have been known to fol-
low such an act.
The teeth ought to be brushed twice a day, the
mouth washed out with clean water after each meal,
and a good dentist consulted twice a year at least. If
when these rules are carefully observed the child's
breath is foul, the trouble is with the stomach. A half-
teaspoonful of powdered willow-charcoal is a harmless
and in most cases an effectual corrective. Mixed with
water, or taken into the mouth dry, it is not unpleasant,
ΙΙΟ
Eve's Daughters.
and serves the desired end much better than drastic
medicines.
So much for what may be denominated surface-drain-
age. Of greater moment, because evil and cure are
more radical and permanent, is the sewerage of the
body. This subject was regarded by our fore-mothers
as perhaps a degree and a half less disgusting than the
lunar periods. With multitudes of the present gener-
ation it is safe to assume that they never give irregu-
larities of this kind a minute's thought in a year, until
forced into the contemplation of the miseries that ensue
from habitual neglect. Physicians have sometimes be-
guiled women into decent regard of this matter by con-
vincing them that their complexions are endangered
by the suppression or excessive flow of excretions. To
confirmed bad habits of retention and to choked pores,
filled with dust or condensed perspiration, is referable
the plentiful crop of pimples banding the school-girl's
forehead. Unsuspicious of this fact, she hides the un-
sightly clusters by "banging" her hair, and covers the
larger pustules with artful dots of black court-plaster,
supposed to enhance the whiteness of her skin, or to
redeem, by contrast, the muddied complexion which is
unclarifiable by cosmetics. To the same hidden cause
is due should the dentist have been faithful to his
duty, and dyspepsia be a stranger-the impure breath
which is a secret to nobody but to her who exhales it.
The First Turning-Point.
III
I have already declared constipation to be an unclean-
ness. I may add that it is one that betrays itself sooner
and more surely than any other crime against physical
laws, unless it be gluttony of unwholesome food. The
putrescent refuse of the system, unnaturally detained
in the draught-vessels, infects blood, skin, and respira-
tion. The shame is here-in the careless or willful bear-
ing about with one, the body of this death and flaunt-
ing the fact of the loathed presence in the faces of
acquaintances and friends-not in the modest observ-
ance of such regulations as, rightly obeyed, would keep
the breath sweet, the brain and color clear.
It is to be regretted that when attention to the qual-
ity and quantity of your girl's diet is of such conse-
quence as at this formative period, she should be most
prone to vitiated cravings and finical likings. It is
a circumstance at once fortunate and notable, if she
does not take the notion into her pulpy brain that a
healthy appetite for good, substantial food is "not a bit
nice," "quite too awfully vulgar, you know."
would be disgraced in her own opinion and lose caste
with her refined mates, were she to "eat like a plough-
boy." This delicacy of taste is altogether compatible
with a relish for chalk, magnesia, slate-pencils, and sul-
phuric-acid pickles.
She
In the number of The Spectator, issued on "Tuesday,
July 15, 1712," we have a letter from a young woman
I 12
Eve's Daughters.
1
who had passed through a varied experience of such
depraved pointings of appetite, and nearly perished by
gratifying each and all of them. Upon her reformation,
she writes to the social censor of the day an account of
her follies, winding up with:
"Now, Mr. Spectator, I desire you would find out
some name for these craving damsels, whether dignified
under some or all of the following denominations (to
wit): Trash-eaters, oatmeal-chewers, pipe-champers, chalk-
lickers, wax-nibblers, coal-scranchers, wall-peelers, or grav-
el-diggers, and, good sir, do your utmost endeavor to
prevent, by exposing, this unaccountable folly, so pre-
vailing among the young ones of our sex.”
This "unaccountable folly," still prevalent after the
exposé of 170 years ago, consists to a charm with a
"perfect passion" for alba-terra confectionery.
When we were young, sister mine, it was safe to eat
candy-in moderation. We had lollypops and barley-
sticks, and clear lemon-bars and squares of faintly-flav-
ored rose, and melting lengths of "cream" candy, all
of which we consumed fearlessly, parents and guardians
looking on in smiling envy of the simple ecstasy that
could never again be theirs. An ounce of these "good-
ies"-to English children, "sweeties"-went further on
the road to gratification than does a pound of the per-
nicious adulteration, painted and perfumed, which is
the modern school-girl's delight. In the consideration
The First Turning-Point.
113
of the morbid frenzy of desire for deleterious comesti-
bles conspicuous "among the young ones of our sex,
who can forbear a thought of "ordinary generation
and our Great First Mother's hankering after the one
prohibited dainty of Eden?
ers.
">
Convince Mamie that the lovely emerald of the pis-
tache-drop is arsenical: that there is Prussian-blue in
another and softer shade of green, and red-lead in the
rose-color. Talk of chemical analyses, and of revolting
revelations that have come about by providential and
retributive fires, of hogsheads of alba-terra side by side
with barrels of white sugar in the vaults of candy-mak-
She shudders out that it is "perfectly horrid,"
and keeps on munching. Another touch of nearer he-
redity! Do not we remember the delicious thrill of
horror with which, on being cautioned against eating
loaf-sugar, "because it was clarified with bullock's
blood," we applied the test commended and held
a lump at the candle-flame until a brownish bub-
ble seethed out of the heated side- then, ate the
sugar!
Crusades against candy and pickles avail little while
the stomach demands with the avidity of youthful de-
sire, acids and sweets to assist the action of the gastric
juice. See if it will not accept fruit instead. I doubt
if a well person who likes apples and peaches—and
what well person does not ?-could eat enough of them
114
Eve's Daughters.
to hurt her, provided always that the fruits are sound
and ripe. Decay in any shape is unwholesome. Chil
dren fatten like pigs-their skins grow smooth and clear
in the peach-season. The family that substitutes fruit,
even when it is most expensive, for desserts of pies,
puddings, and preserves, will find a clear money-gain
at the end of the year, and interest, generous and com-
pound, in health and peace of mind.
If Mamie has not a rational appetite, create a digest-
ive conscience that may serve her instead. Prescribe
for her as in any other sickness. Give her wholesome
bread and butter, juicy meats-boiled, broiled, roast—
never fried; vegetables properly cooked; cream, milk,
and eggs.
Watch-as for her health and happiness-that she
does not fall into the, to girls, easily-besetting fault of
stimulating lagging desire by seasoning her food im-
moderately, even with condiments esteemed as harm-
less as are salt and pepper. Salt is a sovereign styptic,
that, if taken in large quantities, dries up the blood
and other natural juices of the body. Black pepper is
highly inflammatory-more heating than cayenne, al-
though it has not the constipative properties of the lat-
ter-the capsicum of medicine. Cancers have been
formed in the coat of the stomach by lavish and con-
tinued use of black pepper.
To quote again from Dr. Oswald:-" A slice of a
The First Turning-Point.
115
peppered and allspiced vinegar pickle will blister your
skin as quickly as a plaster of Spanish flies."
Yet our girl will blacken the contents of her plate
with this blistering powder, and aver that she can not
without it eat the "insipid stuff" offered for her con-
sumption and nutriment. She soon grows, or degen-
erates, into a fondness for high seasoning of all kinds;
affects curries and peppery salads and spiced entre-
mets. The sour to please her must be very tart, the
sweet very sweet. Her brother at eighteen is more
easily contented with plain fare, provided there is
enough of it. If he indulges then in his first cigar, it
is rather because the "other fellows do it," and from
mannish ambition than in obedience to the promptings
of appetite. Mamie would drink strong tea and coffee
of her own accord, and thinks a glass of old sherry
would give her a relish for the dinner she does not care
to taste. Instead of frowning down her confessions as
"fast talk," add the desire they express to the craving
for slate-dust, lime and lemons, and include all under
symptomatic irregularities. Her physical and mental
composition is in a ferment, her ebullitions of opinion
and temper are but breaking bubbles. She will not be
quiet and cool of herself, and it is your duty to keep
her at as even a temperature as you can bring about.
I assume that, as a child, she has not been allowed to
use tea and coffee as daily beverages. Resolutely with-
1.
116
Eve's Daughters.
A
hold these now, except when the tea is given as medi-
cine for a headache, or in an illness where warm drinks
are professionally prescribed. While I am a believer
for myself in the "comforting" properties of a cup of
good mixed tea, and freely offer the same to persons of
mature age and fixed habits, I would not let girls un-
der eighteen drink it or coffee every day or even fre-
quently. Apart from the inconvenience attendant upon
the habit of using, therefore needing a tonic at stated
intervals, and the suffering entailed by occasional una-
voidable privations of the same, the present effect upon
stomach and nerve is detrimental to the tone of both.
At best these drinks can do no good. They may do
much harm,-tea by intensifying the strain of a nerv-
ous-sanguine temperament, coffee by augmenting the
secretion of bile in a system predisposed to the bilious-
lymphatic. Mamie's nerves may be naturally weak and
uncertain, but tea will not strengthen them. Jennie's
bilious sick-headache may be lifted for a day by a cup
of black coffee. The next attack will come the sooner,
and be the worse for the accession of bile extracted
from the delicious poison. Poison it is to her, as
would be wines, spirits of all kinds,—spices,—whatever
heats the turbid blood that will run healthfully and
evenly by and by, if we can but tide over this crisis.
"I would rather strike matches all day on a powder-
cask than marry a woman with such a temper," re-
The First Turning-Point.
117
marked a young man to me, in commenting upon a
beautiful virago.
The boyish outburst recurs to me when I witness the
temerity with which mothers suffer to be carried among
the easily-disturbed forces of their daughters' health
such dangerous appliances as stimulating food and
drinks, sensational fiction and questionable associa-
tions. The mischief done by these to a boy's harder
nature may be temporary-a superficial stain that may
be removed by time and friction. Just now your girl's
whole system is, as it were, composed of sensitive
nerve-tips, as the surface of the tongue is said to be.
Impressions are taken-transmitted-and incorporated
with fearful facility, made up into the transitional being
which is soon to be herself and a woman.
"Temperance and Patience" should be our motto at
this epoch, if never again in her life.


CHAPTER VII.
GIRLHOOD.
"Standing with reluctant feet,
Where the brook and river meet
Womanhood and childhood fleet.
""
-LONGFELLOW, "Maidenhood."
HE poet-being an American-makes no men-
tion of the still waters on which the shallop
of girlhood may float; the pleasant pastures
that have become, in our rushing times, a
Debatable Ground narrower with each year and cut up
by much trespassing.

are women.
Yet it is patent to physiologists, no less than to the
student of psychology, that as a class, neither misses
of fourteen, nor more shapely school-girls of seventeen,
"Childhood fleet" has swept past our
daughter, as insensibly as swiftly. Her present life
and being are new and untried. The lithe David must,
whether he will or not, bear armor which he has not
proved, but he moves awkwardly, and by constraint.
The graceful child becomes shy, because ill at ease, as
Girlhood.
119
her arms lengthen and her feet get into one another's
way. She is oddly-you say, "perversely "-inclined
to stoop in walking, and to hitch her shoulders nerv-
ously when spoken to unexpectedly. Unaccountable
angles have taken the place of curves, and jerky wires
of pliable muscles. You love her none the less, but
you are less proud of her than you were awhile since;
fret your conscientious soul with doubts of the judi-
ciousness of the training that has produced this result.
If you are to be pitied, do not forget that there is a
greater sufferer than the girl's mother-even Mamie
herself. She would be very angry were any one to
suggest a resemblance between her state and that of
a pollywog, but very far down in her humbled con-
sciousness she has thought of it herself, and wonders,
rebelliously, just where in the world or in the scale of
humanity she belongs. No one part of her seems to
match the other, and in her agony of bashfulness she
imagines that everybody is as conscious of the misfit
as is she who hardly recognizes her own individuality
while the rubbing and grinding and creaking of re-or-
ganization are going on. It is a grave, a perilous era
with her, the more interesting to the intelligent ob
server because it is not comely in its external mani-
festations.
We leave so little margin, in this age, for girlhood,
that Mamie has scanty and slippery standing-room on
120
Eve's Daughters.
the delta made by the junction of the brook and river.
She would indignantly repudiate the assertion that she
has "grown-up notions," yet that this is true is the
source of a large proportion of her discomfort. To be
a young lady is a hope the realization of which appears
to her excited fancy almost within her grasp. To shake
off awkwardness, homeliness, rawness,-all that makes
her miserable now; to be admired, and not tutored;
courted, and not shunned, to be a gauzy-winged moth
and not a scaly beetle,-these are some of the brilliant
possibilities that feed reverie and dream. Who can
marvel at or chide her? The realm in which Penelope,
who is just "out," swims and soars and shines, an
adored Psyche, is to Mamie Fairy Land, and the
boundary-lines are delightfully undetermined. She
likes to hear how her own great-grandmother married
at fifteen, and cherishes the recollection of an old-
fashioned novel of very ephemeral character she read
once in the garret of a country-house, the heroine of
which-Lady Lucy Cunningham-was a "witching
creature who had not yet numbered sixteen summers
of mortal existence," yet who drove all beholders of
the masculine gender crazy by her beauty and wit.
Mamie wishes that Mamma was not so unreasonably
obstinate in her objections to long dresses and crimped
hair, and girds ungratefully at the formula of intro-
duction uttered by the gentle voice;-"This is my
Girlhood.
121
little daughter." Nothing flatters her more immensely
than to be mistaken for "nineteen, at least," a weak-
ness which every one who cares to minister to such
small vanities remembers when bidden "to guess her
age." Penelope is "presented" to new acquaintances
who exchange stately bows with the belle, but after
Mamma's obnoxious speech shake hands familiarly
with poor "little" Mamie. She echoes bitterly the
Scriptural saying that a man's foes (and deductively a
woman's) are of his own household. She knows that
her whole family is leagued in the effort to relegate her
to the ranks of doll-tending misses. Papa offers his
hand instead of his arm,-which she could easily reach!
when he takes her out walking; her eldest brother says
indignantly, "That Infant!" when an old friend, who
was the best man at her parents' wedding, accosts her
deferentially as, "Miss Mary." The very servants pay
no attention to her orders and laugh insolently at the
painfully-rehearsed displays of dignity she airs for their
benefit. One and all, they conspire to describe her age
as fourteen when it sounds so much better to emulate
her example of saying, "in my fifteenth year." She
is ready to believe that they actually hate her—they
take such pains to thwart and mortify her at every
turn. In short, as she-our typical girl-surveys it, the
Debatable Ground is a highway of discontent where-
upon no one abides who can get away.
122
Eve's Daughters,
Mamie is dear to my motherly, and to my authorly
soul, yet regard for her best interests conjoins with
truth, urging me to reiterate the asseveration that—
her great-grandmother and Lady Lucy Cunningham
notwithstanding-Mamie is not a woman yet, by sev-
eral degrees of growth and ripeness. She ought, as a
sensible creature, to be grateful for the interregnum of
girlhood, but, as I have intimated, we need not be sur-
prised that she is not. She is "but a lassie yet,"-a
‘green_girl,”—¿.e., crude, not of necessity acerb. If
rightly viewed and enjoyed, the estate of girlhood bears
to Penelope's full-fledged young ladyism the relation
that the dawn, soft with tenderest rose-gray, and sweet
with dewy odors, does to the glare of midsummer
noon.
It is a safe and sheltered season when nobody thinks
of demanding much from the immaturity of which she
is ashamed, or judges harshly the inexperience she dis-
claims. All humane well-wishers-and she has no ene-
mies-look kindly upon the folded bud. This serenity
she ruffles, and shakes away the dew in the fierce at-
tempt to blossom before her time. The ridicule of
brothers, and the petulant expostulations of girls older
than herself who are intolerant of "the folly of the pert
little minx," exasperate, but do not alter, her feelings or
her behavior. She even salves the scratches inflicted
upon self-conceit by the conviction that the "mean
:
Girlhood.
123
things only want to keep her back" because they dread
a probable or certain rival.
As the value of implicit obedience in family govern-
ment is most clearly shown in exigencies, as when a
sick, hurt, or frightened child would but for previous
training be unmanageable and so destroy its only
chance of safety-so now the mother who has never
let go her daughter's hand, never tempted her by indif-
ference, real or apparent, to seek a more sympathizing
counsellor, finds in the influence she has established over
affection and will an invaluable power for good. Talk,
as is your wont, lovingly and patiently with the per-
turbed creature. Coax and reason down (still patiently)
the tumult of morbid vanity and senseless aspirations
that have changed the free carelessness of your child
into unrest and pain. The girl is at war with every-
thing-most of all, and none the less truly because she
does not suspect it, with herself. She wants to be
beautiful, accomplished, popular, and grown all at once.
Imagination, under the heat of the fermentation de-
scribed in our last chapter, outruns possibility and ex-
horts her to be satisfied with nothing short of instant
fruition. Her mirror and the aforementioned brothers
and elder friends set for the rising of tempers and fall-
ing of pride in her beleaguered soul, oppose to this vis-
ion of perfection unformed features, a complexion too
red or too sallow, limbs of disproportionate length or
.
124
Eve's Daughters.
thickness, and a figure that drives her to despair, be-
ing, as she complains, "worse than none at all." If
she is thin, it is with a slab-like leanness that defies the
dressmaker's arts. If plump, she berates herself as a
criminal against refinement and æsthetic taste; and
prays, in good or bad earnest, for a spell of illness to
pull her down.
As a standpoint from which to conduct future opera-
tions, try to persuade her that very few outside of her
own family ever trouble themselves to think of her
looks, so long as she is neat and behaves with propri-
.ety. The smart to her vanity will be salutary, if se-
vere. Next, set before her the infinite value of the ac-
cumulative period, and congratulate her upon the bless-
ing of living within it. Immaturity, let her observe, is
not deformity, but a state of growth with such advan-
tages of superb development as those who are her sen-
iors by ten years have not-to obtain which they
would sacrifice all the privileges accruing to them from
mere superiority of age.
And, while inculcating these wholesome truths, bind
them firmly about your own heart and hold them
there.
Weak mothers, fond mothers, ambitious mothers,
do much to lower the standard of womanhood, besides
injuring and dwarfing their offspring-body, soul, and
intellect―by abetting the ill-judged impatience of girls
Girlhood.
125
of this age to assume the position for which they are
utterly unfit. The modest, "pretty-behaved" little
maid in her simple "frock" seldom blesses our eyes
nowadays in house, church, or street. The almost-
young-lady meets us with a simper or a stare, and, if
she thinks it worth her while to talk with us, alter-
nately pains and provokes us by shallow chatter, her-
self leading the conversation as by right. She has un-
limited silk dresses per annum, selects her own dress-
maker, and takes the matter of apparel and fashion's va-
riations far more au serieux than does Penelope, whose
belleship is an established verity. Already she adores,
round dances, and votes it "slow" to waltz with girls.
"They can't hold her up properly" (I am afraid she
says, "worth a cent"), "and their skirts are awfully in
the way."
Papa applauds her pertness as wit, as indiscrimi-
nately as he laughed at her gambols before she could
talk, and as injudiciously as he gave her a dollar for
looking pretty. To the wisest fathers daughters are
forever children, without responsibilities and futureless.
Mamma likes to see Mamie happy, and contrives diver-
sions and delights without end for her. If exception-
ally amiable, Mamie tolerates both parents; and, while
snubbing Mamma when it must be done in the cause
of Young American progress in civilization and the
fine-arts, apologizes for her "antiquated ideas.”
126
Eve's Daughters.
Ah! Dame Partlet on the brink of the pool, who
can not help admiring the adventurous spirit of her
ducklings, while frightened out of her dull wits for
their fate in the element that would be death to her, is
no bad type of many a well-meaning and very hu-
man mother. We do well to take ourselves to task,
sift our own weaknesses, before arraigning the girls
who are "getting to be too much for us."
I insert as altogether apropos to this section of our
subject two pregnant paragraphs from "Duties of
Women" by Frances Power Cobbe.
"The woman who thinks herself quite equal to the
duties of motherhood almost betrays by that fact that
she has only the meanest notions of their nature and
extent.
"Have you ever reflected that, in the awful love of
GOD for His poor children of clay, there must be
mingled at once infinite tenderness and pity, and, at
the same time, a severity which never shrinks from any
suffering needed to recall us from sin, or purify, or
sanctify us?"
If Mamie has not yet "been put into the Physiology
Class" at school, her mother ought to have studied
natural laws with sufficient diligence to lead her to the
comprehension of the progressive mechanism enclosed
in the tasteful garments that take up so much of her
time and thought.
Girlhood.
127
"I feel like an engineer who has set in motion works
he does not comprehend," lamented an honest mother
to me.
In the recollection of her and of thousands of right-
meaning parents, consumed by regrets and distracted
by doubts, I ask you to be patient with me while you
read the pages immediately succeeding this, if what
they contain is already known-it can never be trite-
to you.
I have used the term "cellular tissue" once or twice.
In order to make clear the numerous references to this
which will hereafter occur in this volume, I take the
liberty of copying Dr. Clarke's lucid explanation of the
technicality:
"The mysterious process which physiologists call
'metamorphosis' of tissue, or interstitial change, de-
serves attention in connection with our subject. * * * *
"It is the means by which, in the human system,
force is developed, and growth and decay rendered pos-
sible. The process in itself is one of the simplest. It
is merely the replacing of one microscopic cell by an-
other; and yet upon this simple process hang the
issues of life and death, of thought and power.
"Growth, health, and disease are cellular manifesta-
tions. With every act of life, the movement of a finger,
the pulsation of a heart, the uttering of a word, the
coining of a thought, the thrill of an emotion, there is
128
Eve's Daughters.
the destruction of a certain number of cells. Their
destruction evolves, or sets free, the force that we
recognize as movement, speech, thought, and emotion.
The number of cells destroyed depends upon the in-
tensity and duration of the effort that correlates their
destruction.
"From birth to adult age the cells of muscle, organ,
and brain that are spent in the activities of life, such as
digesting, growing, studying, playing, working, and the
like, are replaced by others of better quality and larger
number.
“At least, such is the case where metamorphosis is per-
mitted to go on normally."
(I use italics in the transcription of the last sentence
to emphasize my homelier continuation of the interest-
ing theme.)
To return to Dr. Clarke:
"Infants must have sleep for repair and rapid growth;
children, for repair and moderate growth; middle-aged
folk, for repair without growth, and old people only,
for the minimum of repair. Girls, between the ages of
fourteen and eighteen, must have sleep, not only for
repair and growth, like boys, but for the additional task
of constructing, or, more properly speaking, of develop-
ing and perfecting then a reproductive system—the
engine within an engine.”
That child, or young girl, who does not consider the
Girlhood.
129
family rule of "early-to-bed" as reasonless tyranny, is
usually one of the goody-goody school, or spiritless
from weak health. That our Mamie should rebel
against it is not a sin, or even a fault.
"One has such good times after dark!" she mur-
murs, and with truth. The merry chat and games
about the fire and lamp in winter, when papa and the
boys are at home; the dropping in of agreeable ac-
quaintances, the occasional lecture, or concert, or party,
the walks and talks in the summer twilight; surely we
have known too well the charm of these in our youth-
ful prime to be irritated because our daughter owns it
in her turn. Before she can be quite amenable to a
law curtailing these indulgences she must have some
apprehension of the motive underlying the command;
comprehend her "make-up" better than do the majority
of her class and clique. Penelope may—if she be a very
stalwart Penelope-dance until two or three o'clock
three nights out of seven, and for two or more seasons
sustain no appreciable damage in looks and strength.
Being blessed with a fine constitution of her own, she
can successfully emulate the example of her classic
namesake, and, for a term of years, "pull out by night
that which she wove by day." Penelope is a made
woman. Mamie is in making. In the one, cells and
tissues are defined and firm, muscles elastic, every func-
tion regularly established, and each organ perfect.
130
Eve's Daughters.
There is no longer upon the system the mysterious
draught of "growing"-the leech that saps energy and
impoverishes the blood; sends sickening aches into legs
and back, and stitches into side and chest.
"Only growing pains!" say wiseacres, carelessly.
As if the "only" made them the easier to bear! The
act of growth, then, pulls so heavily and incessantly
upon the magazine of vital force-christened within
our century, "cellular tissues"-that a quantum of
sleep equal to that which suffices to restore Penelope's
roses, does not more than repair Mamie's losses from
this one cause. If she is growing fast—“ running away
from her strength," is the apt phrase in the mouths of
the unlettered for the debility occasioned by her shoot-
ing up tall in a short time-there is need of other safe-
guards to these same tissues.
Dancing parties, late suppers, indigestible food at any
season, violent exercise, such as jumping the rope long
at a time, running until exhaustion and faintness ensue,
overheats and sudden chills, hysterical laughter and
tears, fits of temper and spleen-whatever bodily or
mental agitation is succeeded by reactionary prostra-
tion are direct enemies of health and what may, at .
her age, appeal more forcibly to our girl's reason-
to personal comeliness. Each is a waste-tap upon the
main reservoir. Nature will do her best, pitying, faith-
ful worker that she is, but Nature can not work without
Girlhood.
131
material. When her stores are exhausted, she can not
create.
This is a stubborn fact, an awful truth when we look
at the consequences attendant upon practical infidelity
in the principle. It is a trivial matter to us, in the dis-
cussion of it, whether living tissues are the result of
chemical combinations, or the direct production of the
Maker's hand. There is but partial consolation in the
reflection that there are untold myriads of them, formed
and embryotic. There is a limit-somewhere, and
when we know not-to their reproduction, none to
their waste until the store is exhausted. Call it by what
name we will—amorphous, bioplasmic, germinal matter
—it is the LIFE, and beyond the supply lies DEATH.
The unformed girl may borrow from the reserves
designed to meet the wants of the woman, the woman
at twenty-five draw upon the supplies she ought not to
touch until she is forty; each age may push on the evil
day or hour of bankruptcy, subsisting upon slender and
still more meagre supplies of daily bread, but come it
will, and if not by her own conscience, yet in a Higher
Record the spendthrift will be written down "De-
faulter." When shall we see Health as it is?-a Duty!
and violation of physical laws as a Sin?
I was cheered as by the finding of a treasure, the
other day, at overhearing a young girl say scornfully
to a school-fellow :
132
Eve's Daughters.
"I should be ashamed to be sickly! No! I won't
call it 'delicate.' It is very in-delicate to my way of
thinking. I say the word out plainly-'sickly.' It is
as much my duty to keep well as to keep clean. Of
course, accidents will happen in spite of precautions,
but nobody is proud of having fallen into the mud!"
The brave, clear-sighted woman-child laid her hatchet
smartly at the root of as rotten a stump as disgraces
our civilization. Thousands of women, not deficient
in intelligence otherwise, base their claims to respectful
consideration as human individuals upon their "deli-
cate health."
That their parents or they have sinned
or stumbled and brought upon them the chastening of
pain and disease, should commend them to the com-
passion and prayers of the well; but by what curious
moral and mental twist they have come to look upon
their position as honorable, themselves as interesting, the
recital of their symptoms as one of the decencies of
polite society, is one of the pitiable problems of our
femininity. Each of my readers has upon her visiting
list one-she is more lucky than the writer if she has
not ten or twenty-who would be offended if congrat-
ulated upon the possession of excellent health. It is
no provincial figure of speech when their rural friends
assert innocently that "they enjoy bad health." They
do as thoroughly as did Mrs. Pullet, whose chief regret
in imagining her condition as a widow is thus worded:
Girlhood.
133
"I should be poorly off if he was to have a stroke,
for he always remembers when I've got to take my
doctor's stuff—and I'm taking three sorts now.
Pullet keeps all my physic bottles. He won't have one
sold. They fill two of the long store-room shelves
a'ready. I may go before I have made up the dozen of
these last sizes. The pill-boxes are in the closet in my
room, but there's nothing to show for the boluses, if it
isn't the bills."
The range of thought with these professional valetu-
dinarians is among the tuneless, frayed strings of their
abused organizations. Their aches, irregularities and
failures are the staple (such poor stuff!) of their con-
versation. Themselves being witnesses, such expendi-
ture of time, labor and medical skill is required to keep
the works of their bodies in tolerable order that we
read with wicked satisfaction Mr. Darwin's snarl which
once shocked our finer sensibilities:
"We civilized men do our utmost to check the prog-
ress of civilization; we build asylums for the imbecile,
the maimed, and the sick; we institute poor-laws; and
our medical men exert their greatest skill to save the
life of every one to the last moment. There is reason
to believe that vaccination has preserved thousands,
who, from a weak constitution would formerly have
succumbed to small-pox. Thus the weak members of
civilized societies propagate their kind. No one who
134
Eve's Daughters.
+
has attended to the breeding of domestic animals will
doubt that this must be highly injurious to the race."
Heaven and humanity forbid that we should deal
roughly, even in thought, with the feeble and stricken
ones who, from shattered earthly tabernacles oftentimes.
see farther into the world that sets this right, and into
the counsels of its Ruler than do our fleshly eyes! It
would be equally cruel and also ungrateful were we to
overlook the work done for the Master and His crea-
tures by invalids like Richard Baxter, John Calvin and
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. But we plead with you,
mothers—with society-and with our daughters them-
selves, that they may not be handicapped for the course
just begun. Bodily health is never pertinently termed
rude." It is not coarse to eat heartily, sleep well and
to feel the life throbbing joyously in heart and limb.
"I do not call myself at my best unless I feel, on ris-
ing in the morning as if I could put my shoulder
against the world and turn it over," said a woman of
forty, who had borne six children, and done in every
one of twenty years three hundred days' work, and
who, in her summing up of daily mercies, never failed
to begin, "We thank Thee, O Lord, for health."
If a sound mind in a sound body is a glorious thing
in Man, it is in Woman sublime.
Our Mamie would be patient with her nonage, cease
to despise her youth, could she arrive now by your help
Girlhood.
135
at a fair appreciation of the worth of the wealth she may
amass during the years that are to her shod with lead.
To teach her honesty of purpose and practice, call
things by their right names. Show no charity to the
faded frippery of sentiment that prates over romantic
sickliness. Inculcate a fine scorn for the desire to ex-
change her present excellent health for the estate of
the pale, drooping, human-flower damsel; the taste
that covets the "fascination" of lingering consump-
tion; the "sensation" of early decease induced by the
rupture of a blood-vessel over a laced handkerchief held
firmly to her lily mouth by agonized parent or dis-
tracted lover. All this is bathos and vulgarity, unde-
serving the dignity of rebuke, were it not sinful to the
verge of sacrilege, when the ruin thus sentimentally an-
ticipated is that of the temple of the body—the holy
building committed to your child's keeping. Bid her
leave such balderdash to the pretender to ladyhood,
the low-minded parvenu, who, because foibles are more
readily imitated than virtues, and tricks than graces,
copies the mistakes of her superiors in breeding and
sense, and is persuaded that she has learned “how to
do it."


F
CHAPTER VIII.
BRAIN-WORK AND BRAIN-FOOD.
"Much of our education builds an arc, and not the whole circum-
ference of culture. Only whole wheels will roll. Wherever we leave
out an arc in our culture, there is likely, as the wheel rolls, to be a
halt some day."-JOSEPH COOK, "Heredity."

D
R. HOLMES, whose professional astuteness
rises to the altitude of genius, has interwoven
pearls of physiological truth among the ara-
besques of weird fancy, that make "Elsie
Venner" a marvelous book. The strange, sad story
has its mission as truly as has "Nicholas Nickleby,"
but the lesson is of a finer strain; scalpel and probe
move skillfully among more delicate and occult agencies.
The physician, and not the novelist, speaks in such
passages as these:
"Silas Peckham was a thorough Yankee, born on a
windy' part of the coast, and reared chiefly on salt fish.
Everybody knows the type of Yankee produced by this
climate and diet;-thin, as if he had been split and
dried; with an ashen kind of complexion like the tint
of the food he is made of, and about as sharp tough,
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
137
juiceless, and biting to deal with as the other is to the
taste.
"Mrs. Peckham was from the West, raised on Indian
corn and pork, which give a fuller outline and a more
humid temperament, but may perhaps be thought to
render people a little coarse-fibered.
"All feeding-establishments have something odious
about them,—from the wretched county-houses where
paupers are farmed out to the lowest bidder, up to the
commons-table at colleges, and even the fashionable
boarding-house. A person's appetite should be at war
with no other purse than his own. Young people, es-
pecially, who have a bone-factory at work in them, and
have to feed the living looms of innumerable growing
tissues, should be provided for, if possible, by those
who love them like their own flesh and blood.”
Here is the link that binds these fragments into a
chain suitable for our present purpose:—
"Silas Peckham kept a young ladies' school exactly
as he would have kept a hundred head of cattle,—for
the simple unadorned purpose of making just as much
money in just as few years as could be safely done."
It is easy to explain why the mother whose home is
in the country, remote from all except the common
district-school, should, however reluctantly, yield to
the impetus of necessity and her own desire to give
her bright daughter "the advantages of a liberal edu-
138
Eve's Daughters.
cation," and send her at twelve or fourteen years of
age to a city seminary, or celebrated institute located
in a "salubrious and beautiful country neighborhood.'
Her practical common-sense may apprehend the disad-
vantages of the "feeding-establishment" for mind and
body as thoroughly as Dr. Holmes does; but, acting
upon the principle of the next best thing, she takes the
step, very much as she provides her family in winter
with canned vegetables, as better than none.
The city mother, with a dozen seminaries of excel-
lent repute within half an hour's walk of her door, is
more independent in thought and action than her
neighbors, if she does not consider it expedient to
'finish off" her girls at a collegiate institute a hundred
miles away. She and the girls are fortunate if they are
not sent from home to school while still in short
dresses. The usual excuse for the last-named barbar-
ity is intensely American. The child will not study at
home, the parent avers without a shade of mortifica-
tion, and she will go out to so many parties and
"frolics" of divers sorts that regular habits are an im-
possibility. The mother has always done her best to
maintain discipline, but without success.
Her temper
and her daughter's education are in like danger of ruin.
In fine, the child she has borne is, at thirteen, beyond
parental control, and must be subjected to the impar-
tial discipline of an establishment. Once entered, with
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
139
due form and payments, as a fractional part of a whole,
she must come under the laws regulating the patent
machinery-be one cog of a wheel, a section of a screw
-or-
The mother, who is convinced in her own mind that
she is too tender-hearted to restrain her darling's natural
preference of amusement above work, to arouse her
from her indolence, and stimulate her nobler desires,
would be startled were she to think out the significance.
of that "or."
The disposition to save herself pain and annoyance,
the wearing care of seeing rebellious looks and tears, of
rebuking disrespect and disobedience—is easily mistaken
for unselfish anxiety for her daughter's real good. She
does not, in the computation of pros and cons, set the
sufferings of the home-sick child, her perils at the hands
of hasty or stern teachers and uncongenial mates, the
chances of nerve-strain and moral contamination, and
physical neglect, against the felt ills of home education,
and deliberately resolve to take the risks. It is not
easy to judge soberly and independently in her individ-
ual case, with Fashion and friends on one side, the
single aim of real and lasting benefit, even to a beloved
object, on the other. In order that she may weigh
evidence dispassionately and evenly, the mother must
be able to think, no less than to feel, and it is not every
respectable married woman, model housekeeper, and
140
Eve's Daughters.
devoted parent who knows how to think. Educational
((
advantages" of a certain grade are required to drill
one's mind in this exercise.
There is no lack of warning-signals to those who are
inclined, for any or all of the reasons we have reviewed,
or impelled by other and better ones, to place girls of
tender years in boarding-schools.
From VASSAR, comes:
"Applicants for admission to the College must be at
least sixteen years of age, of good health," etc.
WELLESLEY sounds the same note, and yet more
decidedly:
"Students of sixteen years of age are received, but it
is better that none enter the Freshman Class until they
are seventeen or eighteen.”
(The italics are mine).
And SMITH:
"Candidates for admission must be, at least, sixteen
years of age."
MOUNT HOLYOKE-Mary Lyon's bequest to her
grateful countrywomen, the Nursing-Mother of mis-
sionaries' wives-with the shrewd sense and wise econ-
omy that characterize all its departments, is, perhaps,
most explicit of all our principal women's colleges on
this point:
"While candidates are admitted to the Junior (low-
est) Class at sixteen years of age, it is desirable that
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
141
they should be seventeen or eighteen years of age.
None should enter the Senior Class under twenty."
What is the plain meaning of all this, except that
those who have made the instruction of girls a study,
and reduced to a science which is their profession, the
risks, possibilities, and certainties involved in the ques-
tion of a Higher Education for Women, will not-dare
not assume the responsibility which the mother mani-
fests her willingness to shirk?
"We refuse "-so might the language of the cata-
logues be rendered-" to sanction the removal of
would-be pupils from their homes until the constitu-
tions jarred by the transition from childhood to girl-
hood have settled into normal health; the regularity of
the delicate functions of the newly-indicated Third Part
of the girl's physical being been established and verified
by, at least, twenty-four months of time."
Abstract science is more sage and more humane than
the loving mother who, without a thought of revoking
the edict of exile, sheds furtive tears over the boarding-
school outfit of her fourteen-year-old girl, and wonders,
with an aching near akin to genuine heart-break, "how
she can ever live without the child!'
We talked, in a former chapter, of the propriety of
creating a stomachic conscience that should choose the
good and eschew the evil in dietetics. That this is rarely
accomplished, even with healthy, hungry girls, at four-
142
Eve's Daughters.
teen or sixteen, let the unofficial and unwritten records
of boarding-school life reveal. The reproach of bread-and-
butter-missishness does not appertain to American girls,
whatever may be said of English. Those of us who
have sickened yearly at the made-to-order fare of sum-
mer watering-places, who recall the pretentious taste-
lessness of foreign hotels and pensions, may pardon her
whose "bone factory and living loom of innumerable
growing tissues" demand a change from the provisions
bought at a low figure by the product of "three or
four generations raised upon east winds, salt fish, and
large, white-bellied, pickled cucumbers," and cooked by
his Hoosier wife.
"We had apple-sauce, sour! ten times in one week,
by actual count!" says a lively voice at my elbow.
"And awfully stale, sawdusty bread every day, except
Saturdays, when there were warm biscuits for tea. We
were allowed but two apiece-they were not bigger
than my watch! Mademoiselle announced, hebdoma-
dally, that no young lady, bien-elevée, would think of eat-
ing three. I was hungry for weeks at a time, having
pledged my word to mamma that I would not buy
cakes, nuts, and candy, which would have taken off the
edge of appetite. The day scholars used to share their
luncheons with us, and, when allowed to go shopping,
I bought surreptitious buns and crackers. It was against
the one-thousand-and-first rule to keep eatables in our
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
143
rooms, but we were deadly tired of the everlasting
round of miscellaneous hash, fibrous beef and super-
annuated mutton. Everything tasted like everything
else after the first month, having been brewed by con-
tract, and all in the same vat.”
Our girl has a disagreeable sense upon her all the
while, that she is being "run" by contract, body and
mind, out of school hours as well as in. The beat of
machinery is never intermitted, and her free spirit
revolts as at the common vat from which is drawn her
breakfast, dinner and supper. It can not be otherwise
if she is an average healthy, natural, laughter-loving
pupil, fed, up to the hour of her enrolment at the Insti-
tute, upon food convenient for her, excellent in quality,
in quantity abundant, and in such agreeable variety
that the stomach could not, with unerring certainty,
forecast each day its daily fare. If she is an ambitious.
student, indifferent as to what she eats, and averse to
exercise, her case is yet worse. In default of the
wholesome dainties with which mamma was wont to
tempt her slender appetite, she partakes, conscien-
tiously, of what is set before her, as Nicholas Nickleby
"distended his stomach with a bowl of porridge for
much the same reason which induces some savages to
swallow earth-lest they should be inconveniently hun-
gry when there is nothing to eat." Food eaten hastily
144
Eve's Daughters.
and carelessly while the mind is absorbed by other and
weighty thoughts, is seldom perfectly assimilated.
Mrs. Mary Putnam-Jacobi, in a thoughtful essay
upon "Mental Action and Physical Health," asserts.
that "the capacity for independence increases with every
rise in the hierarchical scale of vertebrates, until it
culminates in Man-able to think and talk over his
dinner; to manufacture heat in his limbs while drawing
blood to his cerebral hemispheres; to sustain, in com-
plete unconsciousness, innumerable delicate and com-
plicated chemical metamorphoses in all the tissues of
his body, while concentrating every conscious effort of
his mind upon equally delicate processes of thought
and will."
The accomplished physiologist would, nevertheless,
modify her declaration so far as to exclude from table-
thoughts and talk, subjects so exacting or abstruse as
to engage the full powers of the mind and to stimulate
the brain into liveliest activity.
(6
She draws an eloquent comparison between the
digestive torpor of the savage, analogous to that of
ruminating animals," and "the unconscious digestion
of healthy men of temperate habits and marked intel-
lectual and physical activity, to whom all hours of the
day are nearly equally suitable for exertion."
Again: "The process of digestion occupies from
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
145
three to five hours, but an hour's repose after dinner
is generally sufficient to avert discomfort."
Our school girl-hungry or appetiteless-is a growing
animal, with whom, too, as with most of her sex, the
actively-intellectual is likewise the actively-emotional.
With perhaps one exception, that part of her body
most despised by the eager-eyed aspirant for class
honors, is her stomach. Every mother knows, and
every teacher ought to remember that, at her age, a
thorough indifference as to what and when she eats, is
a symptom of abnormal torpidity of the ganglionic
nerves—those which carry on the work of digestion,
blood circulation and respiration-or of abnormal
excitement of the cerebro-spinal system. What Mamie
does not taste consciously, she will hardly digest uncon-
sciously. Upon this truism is based the protest of our
most intelligent physicians against the American early
dinner for men of active business habits. Fifteen min-
utes of the hour's "nooning" is consumed by the rapid
run homeward-half an hour at most to deglutition
(mastication ranking among the lost arts)--and the
laden stomach is heated into mutiny by the breathless
flight back to work. Such a feeder will tell you that
he does not know, three-quarters of the time, what kind
of food is set before him. Table-talk is almost abol-
ished, or carried on without assistance or interruption
from the head of the house, who brought the counting-
146
Eve's Daughters.
house or office atmosphere up-town with him, and
clothes his soul in it as with a garment. On this head
I shall have more to say by and by.
"The oatmeal porridge at Wellesley kept up my
supply of phosphates," said a graduate to me.
"Good!" I returned. "The hardest intellectual
work I have ever done was upon a breakfast diet of
oatmeal and cream. It is almost a necessity of my
existence. But I know people who can not abide it, to
whom the very odor is offensive. Clearly, they must
draw their phosphates from something else.”
Those of us who were novel-readers thirty-odd years.
since, will recollect how we laughed over the dinner with
the Fairbairns in Miss Ferrier's "Inheritance."
"Mrs.
Fairbairn was one of those ladies who, from the time
she became a mother, ceased to be anything else."
"The children of this happy family always dined at
table, and their food and manner of eating were the
only subjects of conversation. Alexander did not like
mashed potatoes and Andrew Waddell could not eat
broth--and Eliza could live upon fish-and William
Pitt took too much small beer-and Henry ate as much
meat as his papa--and all these peculiarities had de-
scended to them from some one or other of their
ancestors."
The judicious mother, without making herself over-
whelmingly maternal to her bored visitors, can yet be
•
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
147
observant of the gastronomic idiosyncrasies of her
brood. In consulting these in the arrangement of the
family menu, she need not pamper individual taste into
whims. While she inculcates the Christian social duty
of being able to eat anything served by civilized hosts,
she does not demand or expect that that which is dust
and ashes in the mouth shall become kindly chyle in
the stomach. When the girl comes in from school,
heated or exhausted by the labor of the forenoon,
brain throbbing and pulse high with feverish unrest, or
languid to her finger-tips in the reaction of spent forces,
the watchful guardian gives her cheerful quiet, and
when these and a cool bath of hands and face have
reduced temperature and pulse, sets before her for
lunch some wholesome delicacy "that the child likes."
((
Do you always eat so little?" asked I, once, of a beau-
tiful girl, who had been my vis-a-vis at a dinner-party.
"Seldom more, I think; I am fresh from boarding-
school, you know. Most girls get out of the habit of
eating at such places."
“You dined to-day, on three spoonfuls of soup, half
a cracker, an olive and a bunch of raisins," pursued I,
surveying the rounded cheeks and brilliant bloom. She
was very dear to me, and I could not forbear the re-
monstrance. "My child! do you know that such fare
will injure the coat of your stomach?"
"The stomach is what Carlyle calls it—a diabolical
+
148
Eve's Daughters.
machine," she returned lightly. "If I could lose mine
entirely, in addition to ruining it, I should be happy to
renounce it and all its works. It and its appurtenances
are a vile clog upon human happiness and human prog-
ress. A regular "meal," comprising soup, fish, meat,
vegetables and dessert-invariably gives me a head-
ache and flushes my face painfully. I am never hungry,
and thrive excellently well without eating."
At twenty-five, when she should be in the prime of
womanly beauty and vigor, she is a prey to chronic
neuralgia and frequent carbuncles-the sure indices
of poverty of blood. Her bloom has gone and her
buoyant spirits are depressed by the dread of perma-
nent invalidism. She is, also, a confirmed dyspeptic,—
"a mysterious dispensation," she remarks with a
ghostly show of her former gayety," to one who
never ate heartily in her life.'
I might multiply this illustration, with unimportant
variations, by scores, all based upon the neglect of the
nutritive organs. I am the more urgent in calling at-
tention to this matter because even such wise philan-
thropists as Drs. Clarke and Jacobi,-writing upon the
subject of girls' education from different standpoints,
both arguing ably, both urging conclusions that com-
mand our reverence for the keen insight and patient
research that have led them to conviction-bestow but
a passing word upon a defect so serious.
J
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
149
It is not Michelet alone, with the intolerable com-
passion of his "La Femme est une malade" and his
portraiture of the supersensitive Fille, Femme, Mére,—
cradled in gossamer, fed upon honey-dew, fainting
under a frown, and dying with delight on the meeting
lips of her lover-who, in exalting one division of
Woman's Tripartite Nature, leaves the other two in
comparative shadow.
Mrs. Putnam-Jacobi's essay has one italicized passage
that deserves, instead, to be printed in golden characters.
"Unless the brain and spinal cord had been already
exhausted, or on the point of exhaustion previous to the
menstrual crisis, this, alone, would be insufficient to
exhaust them."
A few pages earlier, we happen upon an incidental
observation to the effect that, "a slighter disturbance
of normal conditions is needed to render digestion pain-
ful than to cause painful ovulation.”
Painful digestion argues derangement of the vital
functions that replenish the waste of blood, adipose
matter, phosphates, nerve-force-even act upon the
"mysterious" circumvolutions of grey matter on the
surface of the cerebral hemispheres. Disorder and
disease here are to be avoided as sedulously as is that
class of evils which, from the pre-eminence given it by
illiterate as by learned men and women, is known by
the generic term of "Irregularity."
150
Eve's Daughters.
The fable of the "Belly and the Members" needs
repetition and enforcement in the hearing, not of Silas
Peckham, but of the parents who consign tender girls,
with unformed habits and wayward fancies, to such as
he and his "coarse-fibered" partner. Fable and physi-
ological application should be pressed home upon the
consciences of the ardent students who think to deify
Intellect by "keeping the body under."
It is a duty to eat, and to eat nourishing food. To
effect this end let mothers, first-the keepers of feed-
ing-establishments, second,-study what is wholesome
and what innutritious, and order their tables by the
knowledge thus gained.
For example, salt fish, corned and smoked meats are
less digestible and less juicy than fresh, and therefore
less healthful. Salted herrings, mackerel, and ham, as
breakfast-dishes, may stimulate appetite, but could not
carry the stomach comfortably over the gap that inter-
venes before dinner or lunch unless by help of the
liquid imbibed to quench the thirst they create. There
is no nourishment worth mentioning as such in water,
and little in tea and coffee beyond that found in the
sugar and cream mixed in the cup. By filling the
stomach―distending it, after the manner of Dotheboys
Hall porridge-they do prevent or postpone the con-
traction of muscles which produces the sensation of
hunger and faintness. This sop (slop?) thrown to
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
151
Cerberus contributes nothing toward the general good.
Nature is not mocked, in the sense of deceived, by the
trick, any more than she is propitiated by the blunting
of a healthy appetite by sweets. She will have-not
her pound-but her many pounds of flesh. She resents,
if slowly, yet surely, the continual borrowings of "tis-
sues," the neglect of her appeals for bone-and-blood
material.
Never, unless forced to it, eat when "tired to death."
Avoid, as you would the chance of a sprained wrist or
ankle, the deadly faintness of extreme hunger. If the
nutritive machine is fed regularly, it will be regularly
ready for more food.
Mrs. Gaskell gives us this note from Charlotte Brontë,
written to her Yorkshire home from London, where she
was visiting her publisher.
"As to being happy, I am under scenes and circum-
stances of excitement; but I suffer acute pain some-
times-mental pain, I mean. At the moment Mr.
Thackeray presented himself, I was thoroughly faint
from inanition, having eaten nothing since a very slight
breakfast, and it was then seven o'clock in the evening.
Excitement and exhaustion made savage work of me
that evening. What he thought of me, I can not tell.”
Mrs. Gaskell explains that the poor girl-who, with
all her critical acumen of human motive, was yet ignor-
ant enough of her bodily composition to mistake the
152
Eve's Daughters.
consequences of inanition for "mental pain” — had
"been out for the greater part of the morning and
missed the luncheon-hour at her friend's house. This
brought on a severe and depressing headache.”
A sandwich, or a bun bought and eaten at a pastry-
cook's in the course of the morning's round, would
have spared the country girl "the savage work" of the
evening and the mortification of the retrospect.
More of "American dyspepsia" proceeds from viola-
tion of the two plain rules I have stated, to wit—
never to eat heartily when very tired, and never to
fast to exhaustion-than from climate and ill-cooked
victuals. Reading "solid" books, or studying at meal-
times, is almost as injurious. Heated discussions and
quarrels, fretfulness and sullen taciturnity while eating,
are as unwholesome as they are unchristian. Oblige
both boys and girls to masticate well, and to swallow
slowly. This is especially advisable with her whose
"constitutional" is by now a walk, instead of a run, and
who passes less than one-third of the time in the open
air that her brothers do. That a school or college-
boy is "hollow down to the heels," is a proverb the
truth of which no mother will gainsay. Nor would she
alter the fact thus expressed had she the power to do
it. Even the Billickins of a college-town is disquieted
if her lodger has what she would call a “peaking appe-
tite." She may have no other human interest in his
Brain-Work and Brain-Food.
153
welfare than the natural desire that he may so far pros-
per in worldly affairs as to be able to pay her weekly
bill, but loss of relish for food portends illness, and
she has no time to waste in nursing sick boys. The
kindest matron who presides over the table of the
"Young Ladies' Institute" is neither surprised nor un-
easy when "the boarders" play with, or reject, their
food. Nor has she the presumptive right to insist that
the scanty modicum of provisions they do accept and
condescend to swallow, shall not be raisins, pies, and
pickles. The girl who openly enjoys bread-and-butter,
milk, beefsteak, and potatoes, and thrives thereby, is
the object of many a covert sneer, or overt jest, even in
these sensible days and among sensible people.
She who brings up the tone of her nerves by a cup of
coffee, and sustains the organ of which she is ashamed.
by a morsel of toast, lifted to listless lips by a dainty
thumb and forefinger, and barely nibbles a strip of
boiled ham; who carries a bon-bon box in her pocket
into the school-room, and has a private bottle of olives.
in her desk, "to relieve faintness," is "interesting" in
the eyes of her little court-a soulful creature who looks
as if she fed on air. Whatever her elders may think,
the popular sentiment of her congeners encourages her
in the cultivation of the fragility which is our national
curse, and should be her own and her parents' sorrow.
t

CHAPTER IX.
WHAT SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
"The great duty of the Educator is to place his wheel so that the
stream will fill its buckets evenly."-EDNA D. CHENEY.

UR girl, being "at least sixteen, and in good
health,”—what shall she study?
An arrow-flight of catalogues, a bombard-
ment of private letters answers the question.
FRESHMAN YEAR.
GREEK. Merry's Homer's Odyssey. Three hours a
week.
LATIN. Lincoln's Livy. Three hours a week.
MATHEMATICS. Loomis's Algebra. Three hours a
week.
BIBLICAL STUDY. One hour a week for the last six
weeks.
LECTURES ON THE IDEA OF A COLLEGE. One hour
a week for first eight weeks.
ELOCUTION, LECTURES AND EXERCISES. One hour
a week.
What Shall Our Girl Study
155
ELECTIVES.
PUNCTUATION AND ORTHOEPY.
ENGLISH LITERATURE. From Chaucer through the
Elizabethan Dramatists.
GREEK. Merry's Homer's Odyssey. The Phæacian
Episode.
LATIN. Selections from Livy.
Courses in Art and Music.
OR-
FRESHMAN YEAR.
First Semester.
LATIN. Cicero. De Amicitia or de Senectute, and
Select Letters.
MATHEMATICS. Olney's University Algebra. Chauve-
net's Geometry.
EXERCISES IN ENGLISH COMPOSITION. Elements of
Drawing.
With Electives of German and French.
OR—(again)
FRESHMAN YEAR.
MATHEMATICS. Olney's Solid Geometry. Olney's
Plane Trigonometry. Olney's University Algebra, Pt. 2.
FRENCH. Littérature Française Contemporaine, Dic-
tées, Compositions et Exercices Grammaticaux.
GERMAN. Schiller. Jungfrau von Orleans. Wilhelm
Tell. Die Piccolomini. Schiller's Leben. Essays in
German, and German Prose Composition.
156
Eve's Daughters.
CHEMISTRY, with Laboratory Practice.
HISTORY. ENGLISH LITERATURE.
ING.
ESSAY WRIT-
DRAWING. Freehand, Mathematical and Perspective.
OR-(still again)
FIRST YEAR.
Cicero de Senectute.
Arnold's Latin Prose Composition.
Olney's Algebra.
Ancient History.
Dalton's Physiology.
Nichols' Introduction to History of the Bible.
Gray's Botany.
Hart's Rhetoric.
Bible: Genesis, Exodus, The Gospels.
English Composition.
We have profound respect for Mary (Mamie no lon-
ger) in transcribing the list. We are even conscious of
an elevation of self-respect when we have written it.
As Dick Steele said of Lady Hastings that "to love her
was a liberal education," we seem, in some abstruse
mode-absorption through the mental pores, perhaps—
to have grown wiser in handling the materials and uten-
sils by which Mary is to be cultivated. By a ludicrous.
perversity of associated ideas to which women are sub-
ject at the most inconvenient seasons, we recall in the
What Shall Our Girl Study?
157
re-perusal of the page, the aptly-named Mr. Meek's
thrill of awe upon seeing the announcement in The
Times: "BIRTHS-Mrs. Meek, of a son."
“I had put it in myself, and paid for it, but it looked
so noble that it overpowered me. As soon as I could
compose my feelings, I took the
Meek's bedside.
paper up to Mrs.
"Maria Jane,' said I, 'you are now a public character!'
"We read the review of our child, several times, with
feelings of the strongest emotion.”
Constance Cary Harrison, in "Woman's Handiwork
in Modern Homes," introduces a charmingly-absurd
dialogue between a nothing-if-not-artistic pair over a
"newly-acquired six-mark tea-pot."
"Is it not consummate?" asks the masculine Postle-
thwaitian.
"It is indeed! Oh, Algernon! do let us try to live
up to it!"
As a mother, and as a family, you feel the compul-
sion upon your souls to live up to the girl who can
enter a college, the outermost court of which is guarded
by such a chevaux de frise of "Examinations insisted
upon in all work, required or elective."
Mary's home preparation for her new sphere has been,
we will take for granted, judiciously conducted. You
have not needed the drily significant paragraph in the
Wellesley circular :
158
Eve's Daughters.
"Girls are often allowed to make the dangerous mis-
take of overworking in order to fit in a short time. This
is as injurious to scholarship as it is to health. All
cramming preparation is worthless."
There is no expediency-you say it thankfully-in
your dwelling doubtfully or sadly upon a sentence or
two on the next page of the circular catalogue:
"Students in delicate health will not be received.
The College will not be responsible for invalids. If
the collegiate education of girls be an experiment, it
must not be tried upon those who are broken down by
violation of the laws of Nature. Such a trial would be
useless and failure inevitable."
Candid and sensible, if stern! Wellesley is also Wel-
lingtonian in spirit and utterance.
Mary, then, is well, sound, and strong, and a passable
scholar for her years. Not-or it would be unfair to
select her as a type-remarkable for quickness of appre-
hension or close application. She is as little of a prod-
igy as of an ignoramus. But she has a good mind and
an earnest desire to make the best of herself. Were she
Humphrey Davy, John Stuart Mill, or an archangel,
she could have no higher aim. To score another point
in her favor (excuse the technicality!) she is beginning
to enjoy Work for Work's sake. Difficulties are becom-
ing a stimulus instead of a discouragement. She revels
in the grapple and wrestle with a tough task, and is
What Shall Our Girl Study?
159
sanguine of victory. In short, the healthy mind in a
healthy, well-fed, and well-kept body is growing sym-
metrically, "without hurry, without worry." She is
growing, moreover, in spiritual insight, and in sagacious
calculation of means and ends, of expenditure and re-
sult. In a year-perhaps in less-she will put ques-
tions to, and hold arguments with you, that you will
do well to prepare yourself to meet. Just now, her
motto is that of youth: "Large profits and quick re-
turns." She likes to stand well in her class because it
is the business of the day and hour; because she has
caught the excitement of competition from others striv-
ing at her side and beyond her, and there is real, posi-
tive pleasure in "knowing things." She runs well, with
no signs of distress or discontent.
But you, if you have never until now gone deeply
into the study of the problem of Woman's Education,
are tempted into gravity of meditation and profound
speculation which hold your eyes waking by night,
plunge you into day-reveries that leave a deepening
stratum of solicitude. You are prudent and far-sighted
if you have answered for yourself and to your satisfac-
tion the query with which your daughter at length
approaches you, her most trustworthy confidante.
She has had, we will assume further, if not class
honors, the sincere respect of preceptors and fellow-
students. The triumph of having passed the prelimi
160
Eve's Daughters.
nary tests and being a college student in very truth,
the thrill and strain of the race, even the ecstasy of
excelling in this or that contest, have lost their novelty.
If success does not pall upon her, she is used to it, and
can look beyond the radiant area with eyes whose
range is lengthened by practice and which have become
accustomed to the light. The subsoil plowing of
her mind tells in her present state of perplexity and
longing. She has her studies so well in hand as not to
be daunted in the prospect of the formidable curriculum
of the next semester. She believes, she states, mod-
estly, that she will be able to hold her own throughout
the course.
"That is, I can learn the lessons and pass the
examinations. But when I have been graduated I shall
be, at the best, only well smattered. Look for yourself,
and judge if in four years' time I can be anything
more. There are not enough days and hours in the
forty working months of that time (there are no more,
leaving out the vacations), in which to become profi-
cient in German, French, Latin, Greek, the higher
Mathematics—think of Analytical Geometry and the
Differential Calculus, Chemistry, Astronomy, Botany,
all English Literature and the cream of the literature
of other tongues-and Music! The utmost I can hope
for is a specious veneer-perhaps only a high overglaze
of the surface. And I do want to be thorough!
What Shall Our Girl Study?
161
"Or, if we look further, when I leave school it will
not be possible for me to keep up all these studies as I
am doing now. It follows that even the important
knowledge I am gaining of some of them is only
acquired for the sake of losing it. Will not the dropped
stitches show in the finished web? If not, where is the
use of knitting them in the first place? A wise builder
does not construct for the sake of pulling down.
Assuming that it were possible for me to devote ten
hours a day for the rest of my existence to keeping
what I have acquired-and the range is so wide that I
could hardly do more-what then?
"Don't call me absurd when I confess that I am
haunted continually by the comical dilemma of the
gushing young thing in Hood's 'Fudge Papers' who
breaks off in her irregular ode at
Bring me from Hecla's iced abode
Young fires-
and complains to her friend Kitty
"I had got, dear, thus far in my ODE,
Intending to fill the whole page to the bottom,
But having invoked such a lot of fine things,
Flowers, billows and thunderbolts, rainbows and wings,
Didn't know what to do with 'em when I had got 'em.""
"Mamma!” laughing and blushing, while the eyes
162
Eve's Daughters.
do not lose their troubled look, "am I to be Miss Fanny
Fudge forever?”
You do not deserve to be this young creature's
natural parent if you are inclined, for one moment, to
deal with this honest, wholesome cui bono? as with
girlish farrago. Mental restlessness, when it takes this
turn, is progress. Your girl meets you now with level
gaze; proves herself, perhaps for the first time, to be
your equal and comrade. Her life is no longer an
offshoot of yours. It has taken root for itself.
Disabuse her mind in the beginning of your reply of
the idea so easily conceived at her age, that hers is a
peculiar state of feeling and that her difficulties are
exceptional. Commend her courage in looking them
full in the face, and explain of what her uneasiness is
the symptom. Then, talk with her, as teachers seldom
have time to talk with their pupils, of the specific effect
of the study of worthy subjects upon the intellect. If
you do not say as did a learned Professor in one of our
Theological Seminaries, that a man can plow nearer to
a stump without grazing it for having had a collegiate
education, you may yet borrow one part of his figure,
and show that all of cultivation is not sowing seed
which will yield a harvest in kind. The plowshare and
hoe that open the soil to the beneficence of air, sun,
dew and rain; expose virgin elements to be chemically
changed by these into sustenance for what shall here-
What Shall Our Girl Study? 163
after be cast into the mellowing earth; the fertilizers
scattered liberally upon the ground and dug patiently
into it--the raking and harrowing, even the burning
out of weedy growth--what would agriculture be with-
out a wise comprehension and application of these
methods? Mary may not "keep up" her Latin after
she leaves school, and her German may, from the same
date, become to her as truly a dead language. But she
will write and speak her mother tongue the better for
having learned the one; the breadth and grasp of her
mind be improved by the study of the other.
It is very possible-altogether probable—that in her
future experience she will have little use for any branch
of Mathematics higher than the Four Rules of Arith-
metic, with a semi-occasional need of Fractions, and a
demi-semi-occasional reference to the Rule of Three.
But she will bear the daily vexations, as well as the
great trials of life more bravely for the firm grain of
thought, the habit of patience, the impartial weighing
of evidence, the submission to the sustained verdict of
the quotient, without which there can be no success in
mathematical study. That the husbands and children
of educated women are ignorant of their obligations to
the Differential Calculus, is no more an argument
against a knowledge of it than the indifference of
the epicure, who enjoys his breakfast rolls with-
out a thought of the manifold labor wrought into
164
Eve's Daughters.
their production, proves the inutility of agricultural
arts.
The discipline of the school is invaluable in a country
where the status of the Home is so often altered by the
changing tides of fortune, the fluctuations of Mamma's
health, and servants' humors and defections. If your
girl brings away nothing from her college after her
graduation, beyond what is usually ranked as a good
common school education, you have not paid too dearly
for the benefit to her of systematic lines of thought
traced over and over again until they are grooves not
easily choked up, or worn away; for the familiarity
with the best works of master minds; the breathing
upon the heights, unconsciously though it may be, of
purer, more bracing airs than ever reach the lungs of
the bustling herds upon the plain.
This much, and all too little, for the indirect influ-
ences of scholastic training.
While freely conceding that the graduate from any
one of the eminently respectable institutions from
whose catalogues I have quoted, is likely, we will say
in eight cases out of every ten, to be, as Mary puts it,
"merely well-smattered," I submit that the popular objec-
tion to the curriculum as unpractical, applies with equal
pertinence to Boys' Colleges and Universities for Young
Men. I dare assert also, that the majority of girls,
whose standard of scholarship at Wellesley, Smith, or
What Shall Our Girl Study?
165
Vassar is creditable, will compare favorably upon grad-
uation-day with a like number of average graduates at
Princeton or Bowdoin, so far as familiarity with text-
books and the general principles of what has been
taught in the regular course goes. As to Mary's lament
over the dropped stitches and the stock jeremiads that
women do not keep up their acquaintanceship with
languages and the exact sciences after quitting school,
I would inquire what proportion of college-bred men—
unless led to do so by the current demands of their
professions-continue their classical and scientific stud-
ies, con amore, when Commencement and cramming for
the final "Ex" are things of the past. The lawyer's
Latinity is perverted by the jargon of the courts; the
physician is limited to a few phrases in Materia Medica,
scribbled on prescriptions for the mystification of the
patient and the convenience of the druggist, whose
gallipots are similarly labeled; and the clergyman's
reading, in whatever tongue, is too apt to be confined.
to works that have a direct bearing upon the practice
of his calling. As for the graduates who embark upon
the hurrying tide of American business life, what re-
mains at the end of ten years to show that they are
entitled to write "A. B." behind their names except a
nameless Something-which is not altogether propriety
of diction, nor certain intonations that betray the elo-
cutionist's drill, nor yet a liking for the society of the
166
Eve's Daughters.
learned and refined, and answering appreciation on the
part of the latter—a Something, as potent as indefina-
ble, into which all these constituents enter and are har-
monized? Ridicule and analyze "culture" (in Boston
"cultchah") as we may, we can not do away with.the fact
of this indescribable subtle presence that is the spirit
of the Free-Masonic Order of Gentlehood the world.
around.
Clouded by poverty, crushed by disgrace, dwelling in
forms that have little other likeness to the universal
brotherhood of Grace and Beauty, it yet manifests itself
to the answering spirit by evidence not to be gainsaid,
declares its rights and its powers unequivocally and
everywhere, having for seal and watchword the legend:
"The Kingdom of Heaven is within you."
This is not saying that a college course for man or
woman will secure fellowship in this privileged Order,
or that the lack of a generous education will be an
absolute disqualification for membership. But in our
country, at least, a thorough, many-sided, intellectual
training, with the tastes it inspires and nourishes, and
the associations it secures during the term of acquisi-
tion, is the "Open Sesame" to this and to so many
other doors behind which is treasure, as to justify the
value attached to Education, and dignify the sacrifices
made to secure it—or its semblance-by those who are
incapable of esteeming it aright because of its intrinsic
What Shall Our Girl Study?
167
།
value. Of its higher uses, the altogether-loveliness
of the realm, to which the delightsome labor of learning
is the way and gate, it is not now my business to write
at length. When, in the fast-coming years, laden with
fruit, as. now with bud and flower, your girl shall have
gauged the depth of meaning in George Herbert's rapt-
urous boast :-
"My mind to me a Kingdom is!"
her "Cui bono?" of the Sophomore year will seem to
her the chatter of a witless child. For this you can
afford to wait with the calm patience of the husband-
man who, having committed precious seed to prepared
soil, expects the gracious latter rain that is to complete
upon the swelling furrows the work begun by spring
showers.
Music and Painting should always be classed among
the "Electives" of the school or college-course. If
Mary really loves music (mere liking will not do!)
has a fine ear and, it may be, a good voice, do not hesi-
tate to cultivate the talent to the extent of your op-
portunities and pecuniary ability. That she should
gird at the drudgery of practicing scales and exercises
is as natural as her impatience with the slow complica-
tions of French verbs, or the arbitrary committal to
memory of the Multiplication-table. Take care that
she is not flattered into the innumerable company of
168
Eve's Daughters.
young women who mistake a knack for manipula-
tion, and a happy "catch" of ear for musical genius.
Thanks to the besom of Common Sense, plied unspar-
ingly of late years by critic and instructor, this plague
of singing locusts has measurably abated within our
generation, but it is still an active nuisance, notably in
provincial districts. It is not likely that Mary will ever
be more than a fair parlor-performer unless her love for
music rises into a passion, with the conquest of the
rudiments of the art. Most intelligent children become
fond of reading after mastering alphabet and speller.
The born bibliophilist is even more rare than the skill-
ful littérateur.
But-and the same may be said of the taste for
drawing and coloring intelligent appreciation of
science and execution is best learned by study of both.
The practical amateur-I coin the phrase that I may
have a contradistinctive to "professional" and to
"dilettante,”—the practical amateur, in becoming the
connoisseur, creates the popular sentiment with regard
to artistic performances, for the very simple reason that
he knows that whereof he speaks. A circumstance
that can not be predicated of all art-censors whose ful-
minations are received as the combined sentiments of
all the Graces and a genteel majority of the Muses.
A just and pure taste in Music, Sculpture and Paint-
ing, in Architecture and in Home Decoration, is not
What Shall Our Girl Study?
169
only a source of exquisite delight to the possessor, but
the means of pleasure and profit to others. When
mothers and daughters are educated up to this point,
the standard of artistic conception and execution will
be raised into excellence far transcending the most
sanguine anticipations of the votaries of the Beautiful.
Without natural bias, or aptitude for any one of the
Fine Arts, she who is forced to spend a given number
of hours per diem in the study of it, is oppressed, and
has just grounds for protest against the tyranny of
custom. Without the inner sense of harmony, there is
nothing more refining to the learner in the metrical
manipulation of the key-board of a grand piano than
in the purposeless tapping of the same fingers on a tin
pan. If your boy longs to understand the theory and
undertake the practice of music, he is defrauded should
the opportunity be withheld from him. The same
rule obtains with your girl, with neither more nor less
stringency. You can not manufacture taste and talent
to order for either. The pencil and the brush also be-
long to him as much as to her, whether as a serious
pursuit or pleasing recreation. This is very plain com-
mon sense and bare justice. The active violation of
the principle will turn out mechanical art-students, as
like genuine disciples as are the split and flattened
flowers and fruits of the conventional school to the
grace of outline and rich coloring of Nature.
170
Eve's Daughters.
The prominence given to "accomplishments" in the
education and thoughts of women is unquestionably
one of the reasons, if not the chief, why the attempt
to make them equal in intellectual culture to men, so
often results in meretricious veneer and glaze. So
much time, so much nerve-power, so many "cells,"
all consumed in compassing one end and that a trivial
one, must draw proportionably upon the amount requi-
site to gain other and far more important results.
Mary E. Beedy, in a paper upon "Girls and Women
in England and America," makes a "telling "point of
this.
"So long as girls require from one hour and a half
to three hours a day to be, or to develop themselves
into the conventional girl, and boys require only about
one-third of that time to get themselves up into the
conventional pattern for a boy, girls must either be
superior to boys to begin with, or they must economize
their power better if they are able to do as much.
school-work in a year as boys. That is, if girls must
consume power in all the ways that constitute the ap-
proved specialties of girls, they can not do the whole
work of boys without doing much more than boys do."
In another part of the same essay she gives a hint
that is worth considering. She is assuming the opera-
tion of a system of co-education.
"It would be well, too, to give more credit to the
What Shall Our Girl Study.
171
specialties of girls in the schools. I can think of noth-
ing else that would conduce so much to the thorough
and satisfactory study of music as to give it an optional
place in our school-curriculums.”
A friend, a woman of vigorous intellect and marked
individuality, hands me a curious calculation apropos to
this matter of misdirected energy.
"For ten years I took-or there were given to me—
two music-lessons a week, at an average cost of one
dollar
per lesson. We will set that down in round num-
bers, as one thousand dollars in all. For the same time
I practiced conscientiously, winter and summer, two
hours a day. Leaving out Sundays and almost a fort-
night per annum for sickness and other hindrances, we
have six hundred hours of musical work for each year
an aggregate of six thousand for the ten. That is
two hundred and fifty days of twenty-four hours each
of solid toil without mitigation or solace. I ground
out exercises and sonatas as a blind horse turns a tread-
mill, with the added torture of feeling all the while that
it was unladylike and almost unchristian not to love
music. The varied harmonious numbers others pro-
fess to enjoy were no more to me than the rattle of the
grains in the hopper, or the crunch of the clay under
the wheel is to the sightless brute.
"When I became a free agent―i. e., when I married
a man who does not know one tune from another, and
172
Eve's Daughters.
is not ashamed to confess it, I turned my back forever
upon the piano-forte, which had been to me from my
ninth year, peine forte et dure. I wish I could have
brought my unmusical husband the thousand dollars
wasted upon my misery. I wish more earnestly that I
had something worthy to show for eight months of the
hardest work I ever did in my life."
When the full head of the stream is directed into one
bucket, others must whirl emptily in the grand round,
and the balance of the wheel itself be destroyed.


CHAPTER X.
FACE TO FACE WITH OUR GIRL.
"As to direct physical care of themselves, American girls between
fourteen and twenty-one are to be ruled only through their own con-
victions on the side of prudence, for they will not blindly obey what
seem to them arbitrary rules, as the girls of some other nations can
be easily made to do."-ANNA C. BRACKETT.

ISS BRACKETT is a successful teacher, and
a woman of wide culture. She observes care-
M
fully, thinks deeply, and has the enviable tal-
ent of imparting the product of observation
and thoughts to others. Accepting, as I do, the above
extract as true in all its sections, it behooves me in con-
tinuing my familiar talk with my countrywomen to ad-
dress myself directly to the girls themselves.
This is a grateful necessity. My heart warms and
my eyes grow moist as in imagination I seat Mary in
the chair opposite mine, and while trying to set forth
to her that it is a sacred duty from which no quibble
can absolve her, to be merciful to herself, just to her
174
Eve's Daughters.
sex, and gracious to her generation, hearken willingly
to her reasoning and her excuses for objecting to such
blind obedience as infants-or French demoiselles-
may yield to arbitrary rules. There is no more engag-
ing creature on the Father's earth than a young girl
who loves purity and seeks after truth. I doubt if
there exists a finite being who means better than do
you, my child. Nor are there many who so frequently
disappoint themselves in the practical results of their
excellent intentions. The woman's intuitive apprecia-
tion of a desirable end; the womanly impatience of the
slow sequence of logical steps, by the use of which this
will become a legitimate prize,-without which it will
be held upon sufferance, if indeed it ever becomes your
implied possession,-these are, in you, intensified by
youthful ardor and inexperience. You would have
learned to read without acquiring the alphabet, if you
had had your way, and have a despotic fashion of over-
leaping preliminaries of all kinds; of seeking out and
pursuing royal roads to success. Where the intellect
and energies masculine may be controlled by a snaffle-
rein and perhaps require the whip, you need a curb,
and a firm, yet kindly hand upon the ribbons. It is
entirely consistent, quite unavoidable, that this incon-
sequent impetuosity should prevail in the conduct of
your studies at a period when study is the business of
your life.
It is not less natural that being a woman—
Face to Face with Our Girl.
175
and a very young woman-you should be intolerant of
human imperfection, contemptuous of human failures,
disdainful, with an imperial scorn, of your own weak-
nesses and shortcomings. Your hopes and expecta-
tions of Life may be likened to the sensations of the
dreamer, who finds the act of flying or floating through
the air a foot or two above the earth so easy and de-
lightful, that he wonders-still sleeping-why he has
ever walked, and that all his fellow-mortals do not
float.
"All the secret is in making up one's mind to do it,”
he thinks. "Once determined and dared, it is done.
In future my feet shall rarely touch the ground."
Presently he awakes. So will you. Let us hope it
will be gradually.
To come back to Miss Brackett's remark, underlying
which we fancy that we may detect causticity or com-
pliment, as we may consider filial obedience or inde-
Your mother has
pendent thought the higher virtue.
fewer more difficult tasks than to convince you of the
real nature and value of the kingdom over which you
claim the right to rule. If she holds fast to the sceptre,
it is as if she lifted a dangerous toy out of the reach of
your baby-hands, as too heavy or sharp for your man-
agement. One of the saddest Inevitables among the
discoveries of our middle-age is the impracticability of
making over to our daughters the advantages of our
176
Eve's Daughters.
own experience, bought with whatever outlay of tears
and heart's blood, of throes and patient toil.
"If thou hadst known, even thou, the things that be-
longed to thy peace!" the mother apostrophizes her own
wayward youth, while her soul yearns over the bright
repetition of that heyday, embodied in yourself.
If the bitterness of the review of her errors and their
penalty tinges her admonitions, gives asperity to her
warnings, be patient, and, at least, reasonably docile.
The perfection of lung-health is never to feel that you
have lungs. If your incredulity on the subject of
physical ills proceeds from like blessed immunity from
infirmity, there is the greater propriety in making in-
telligent preservation of corporeal sanity a tenet of
practical piety. As a girder to my hope of inducing
you to care rationally, because prudently, for the earth-
en vessel which the dear Lord has not deemed unfit to
be the receptacle and custodian of your mind and soul,
read with me some helpful words from another woman
whose aims are pure, and who clothes thought nobly.
Frances Power Cobbe writes:
“A great living teacher once made to me the curious
observation that he had noticed that when a woman
was persuaded that anything was right or true, she
generally tried to shape her conduct and creed accord-
ingly.
"But" (he added with comic despair), "when I have,
Face to Face with Our Girl.
177
as I think, entirely convinced a man in the same way,
and expect to see some results of his conviction, be-
hold! he goes on precisely as he did before, and as if
nothing had happened."
If the latter clause is slanderous to our brothers, one
of their own sex is responsible for the statement and
the "comic despair."
What interests us more nearly is Miss Cobbe's sum-
ming-up:
"Now, will you not take heart of grace, and thus act
up woman-like to any convictions which I have been
happy enough to bring to you, and evermore, hence-
forth, bear in mind that you are not, first, Women, and
then, perhaps, rational creatures, but, first of all, human
beings, and then, secondly, women-human beings of
the Mother-Sex?"
The battle of the books and the rostrum, the papers
and the pulpit, over the education of American girls,
identical co-education; women's colleges and university-
annexes; the mental equality of the sexes; whether
women want the ballot, and if they do, whether they
ought to have it has raged so hotly for a decade
past, that we have almost forgotten the existence of
such irrelevant subjects as illiterate Americans, "of the
mother-sex." In collating the statistics of the com-
parative death-rates of the Alumnæ and Alumni of
Oberlin; counting the sufferers from "amenorrhoea,
178
Eve's Daughters.
menorrhagia, dysmenorrhæa, hysteria, anemia, chorea,
and the like," among the graduates of Vassar, Smith,
and Wellesley, the coolest of the contestants have prac-
tically overlooked the vast commonalty who were never
graduated anywhere, or consciously encouraged the
growth of their minds. Is it not fair to give them a
hearing before we jump at the conclusion that there is
"No Sex in Education," or that, such is the number of
"permanently disabled graduates," that "if these causes
should continue for the next half-century, and increase
in the same ratio as they have for the last fifty years, it
requires no prophet to foretell that the wives who are
to be mothers in our Republic must be drawn from
trans-atlantic homes?
"The sons of the New World," continues the elo-
quent pessimist we are quoting, "will have to re-act on
a magnificent scale, the old story of unwived Rome and
the Sabines."*
It would be a sad slur upon our civilization if, when we
leave out of the question under consideration, the un-
favorable effects of climate, national cookery, and the
fever-heat of our body-politic, commercial and social, it
should still appear that the health of the poverty-
stricken is superior to that of the well-to-do classes.
That the unlearned are physically better men and bet-
* “Sex in Education,” p. 63.
Face to Face with Our Girl.
179
ter women than those to whom sanitary laws, including
dietetics, are a living principle instead of an unknown
and, therefore, a dead letter. With all our respect for
Dr. Clarke, we, who are mothers and mistresses of
families, see much in a quarter-century of housekeep-
ing, of city, district-visiting, and country-boarding, to
make us demur at his declaration that "Jane in the
factory can work more steadily with the loom than
Jane in the college with the dictionary; the girl who
makes the beds can safely work more steadily the whole
year through than her little mistress of sixteen who
goes to school."
The farmers' wives of New England-the New Eng-
land, where, as Dr. Mitchell tells us,* "the wicked
forcing-system"-educational-"is at its wicked worst
for both sexes"-the farmers' wives of New England
furnish from their ranks more patients to the insane
asylums than do the fashionable, "super-æsthetical”
ladies of our gayest cities. Instead of the ruddy, portly
dames that rock and swing up the aisles of the English
parish church in the wake of yeoman-husbands, what is
the show of our country "meeting-houses"?
"Your vimmen are all too white," said Frederica
Bremer, in America. "Are none of them vell?”
We are all too familiar with the physique of the
* "Wear and Tear," by S. Weir Mitchell, M.D., p. 36.
180
Eve's Daughters.
representative American rural housewife. On Sundays
her week-day haggardness is not relieved by so much
as the smoothing out of a crow's track, or the flushing
of the hollow cheek. The uniform tallowy tint of the
complexion, the sunken eyes, the bony frame, more
gaunt in the Sabbatical finery bought with butter-
money, than in her working dress of dark calico-who
does not recognize the delightless picture? The rosy
children, whose vitality has not yet succumbed to pork
and pies, emphasize, and are a mournful satire upon
her sallow angularity. She is "tired to death" all the
time, as subject to sick and nervous headaches as if she
had packed a four-years' college course into every
twelvemonth since her marriage, and a chronic dyspep-
tic. Moreover, she is as conversant with "peculiar
complaints" as are her city sisters, often more cruelly
tried by them, for much lifting of heavy pots and tubs,
and overmuch "standing on her feet" (so she puts it),
and the general inaneness of country life when un-
relieved by intellectual resources, add to strain and
weariness, depression of spirit and body, all working
out together the conditions of uterine and spinal dis-
eases.
Whittier saw her in the transformed Maud Muller:
"She wedded a man, unlearned and poor,
And many children played round her door.
Face to Face with Our Girl.
181
'But care and scrrow, and childbirth pain
Left their traces on heart and brain.'
""
You may behold her in as many stages of droop and
decadence by calling for a drink of water at a dozen
farm-house kitchens in the most prosperous districts of
our highly-favored land. And, should you be sufficient-
ly zealous in the pursuit of truth to risk the imperti-
nence of spoken inquiry, the chances are that you will
find, if the sphere of search is New England, that every
third woman interrogated is not her husband's first
wife. As a provision of political and domestic economy,
it is well that there is an overplus of dying human
worms of the mother-sex in the Land of the Pilgrims,
while Death and Insanity are in close attendance to
pick up those who, from weakness, stagger out of the
marching column.
The same tale, in effect, is told of the corresponding
rank of mechanics' wives, and the daughters of these
are generally about as healthy as the average Maud
Muller. Both-I write it without hesitation—are pale
and meagre, by comparison with the opulent citizen's
daughter, whose mother has sent her to bed early
throughout her childhood, fed her judiciously, and
obliged her to take regular exercise in the open air.
She studies hard all winter, wins a prize or two in the
third week of June, and goes off in July to the country
for a vacation. She takes flannel and linen dresses for
1
182
Eve's Daughters.
·
morning and picnic wear, and wash muslins for after-
noons and Sundays, wears thick boots, and sports what
Maud Muller privately condemns as “a horrid fright
of a broad-brimmed hat. She lives out-of-doors, gets
the good of breezes and sunshine, all the freshness and
sweet, bounteous roominess of meadow and mountain-
top.
'It is a wonder what she finds to amuse her, all day
long, in the woods and fields," comments Maud, who is
as blase with her monotonous existence as a belle of a
dozen seasons with balls and receptions.
If she could live in town, she would never care to see
the country. It is the goody tale of "Eyes and No
Eyes" modernized. Maud sees one field overrun with
red sorrel and wild carrots; in the next, stately corn-
rows nodding and gleaming under the August sunshine,
and never thinks of tracing the instructive analogy. In
her thoughts and speech "culture" is always prefixed
by “agri―.”
Unless I am greatly mistaken, a majority of my fel-
low-housekeepers will indorse my affirmation that the
girl who makes the beds" can no longer, at any rate,
in this our day, be accepted as an example of health
and strength. In reviewing my experience in regard
to her and her co-laborers, during a period of more than
twenty-five years of active housewifery, I am positively
appalled at the result of the investigation. In this
Face to Face with Our Girl.
183
time my household force has consisted of never less
than two servants. Sometimes, and for several suc-
cessive years, four have been employed in the various
departments of domestic labor. Among all these, I
recall but two who deserved to be designated as really
"healthy girls." When this circumstance was forced
upon my attention some months since, I made a care-
ful list of those who had remained in my service long
enough to afford me the opportunity of judging of
their general health. The record lies before me now.
There are twenty names in all. Eight were Americans
(five of these were colored), one Scotch, the rest Irish.
Two of these were inmates of my house for eight years,
one for six, four for three. But three whom I have
registered lived with me for a shorter period than
twelve months. All were steady, sober, and industrious
to an uncommon degree—as American domestics go—
keeping regular hours, and addicted to no stronger
beverage than unlimited tea.
Here let me say, and with gratitude, that I believe
my experience with servants has been, and is exception-
ally pleasant, if all I hear from others of insubordina-
tion, dishonesty, and evil habits be true. I have tried.
always to guard the health of the women employed by
me, as I have my own and that of my daughters, and it
is no less an act of justice to a much-enduring class
than an expression of personal good-will, to record my
184
Eve's Daughters.
testimony to the affectionate attention bestowed in re-
turn upon me and mine when the hour of trial overtook
us. I digress yet further from our main topic to re-
mark to the discouraged or disgusted housekeeper that
the acknowledged faults of the class do not absolve us
from the discharge of our duties to them as their supe-
riors in moral and mental training.
It may help us in the examination of the causes of
the reported invalidism of educated women to look
somewhat minutely into a few of the cases of these
comparatively illiterate ones. In humble, unprofes-
sional imitation of Dr. Clarke's "Part III.," I have
written down the details that follow this. The reader
will please accept in extenuation of what may bore her
the maxim borrowed from the head of this division of
our esteemed physician's work:
A
"Facts given in evidence are premises from which a
conclusion is to be drawn. The first step in the exer-
cise of this duty is to acquire à belief of the truth of
the facts."
Her child was
A-, born in the north of Ireland, came to Canada
at three years of age, married at nineteen, and had one
child. Her husband died before its birth, and A-
went out to service as a wet-nurse.
three years old when the mother came to me to take
care of an infant and do light chamber-work. In less.
than four months she fell violently ill. Symptoms,
Face to Face with Our Girl. 185
terrible pain in the head, delirium, spasmodic twitch-
ings of limbs. The physician's visit revealed the fact
that she had been "irregular" for more than a year.
Sometimes there had been total suppression for several
months. She recovered after several weeks' illness so
far as to resume her duties in the household, but was
never really well. Her headaches and fainting-turns.
were a source of continual uneasiness to me, and al-
though she was a faithful, excellent servant, I should
not have felt it to be right to retain her in my nursery,
but for the knowledge that she could not have earned
her living elsewhere on account of her ill-health. It
was a great relief to me when, at the end of the third
year, she married again and went to a home of her
own. She had four children after this second marriage,
dying at the birth of the last. During each pregnancy
she was partially insane.
B—, Irish by birth. She had been fifteen years in
America when I engaged her as cook and assistant
laundress. She was then twenty-five, a confirmed dys-
peptic, and subject every month to excessive "flow."
After each period she was anemic and tremulous, and
would have been hysterical but for her strong will. A
more honest, upright, willing girl never carried a dis-
eased frame about her daily tasks. She would work
uncomplainingly, when nineteen out of twenty women
would have been in bed. She, too, married, in the
186
Eve's Daughters.
fourth year of her residence with me, and sought a
home in the far West. In a little over a year I heard
of her death.
C——————, of Irish parentage, but born in America. She
C-
was short, stout, with blue eyes and light hair, and
looked more like a German than an Irish girl. She
could read and write well, was quick of apprehension
and brisk in movement. At twenty-eight she came to
me as waitress and parlor-maid, remaining with me in
this capacity for a year. In this time she had three
epileptic fits-all at night, after days of unusual excite-
ment or fatigue. The nature of the first seizure she
concealed from me, but after the second, confessed that
she had had many such attacks since the first time she
was "unwell," which happened in her fourteenth year.
She had also frequent sick headaches and turns of dis-
tressing nausea. Finally she broke down utterly, and
left service altogether.
D————— was a smiling, red-cheeked Irish girl, "ten
years in the country," and twenty-one years old. She
was B's immediate successor in my kitchen, and a
thorough contrast to her physically. She had strong
black hair, blue eyes, large limbs, and high color; was
easy of temper, obliging, and “not afraid of work,” but
careful and troubled about nothing. Her merry laugh,
if a trifle louder than suited the taste of one used to a
quiet kitchen, was yet irrepressibly contagious. She
Face to Face with Our Girl.
187
was with me two and a half years prior to her marriage.
In this time she had two attacks of illness, each lasting
for more than a fortnight, and both the consequences
of obstinate “irregularity." The second was rendered
dangerous by the menace of suffusion of the brain. So
imminent was the peril, that our family physician re-
sorted to the lancet. The blood flowed sluggishly at
first, drop by drop, and was thick and dark-a repulsive
sight. After this sickness she was never the same
woman. She became fitful in temper, lost color and
strength, and was, to my eye, steadily declining into in-
validism, if not on the verge of consumption, when she
married. In less than a year she miscarried with twins.
In four years she was dead.
E
a brisk colored girl, aged thirty — a full-
blooded negress, strongly and well-made. She did
well the work of waitress and parlor-maid, but evident-
ly at the cost of much suffering to herself. Like most
of her race, she took cold easily, being as susceptible to
falling temperature as a quail. She had a cough and
pain in the chest from November to April; had once
had bleeding of the lungs, but now considered herself
cured and "well." She suffered greatly every month.
from pain, increasing into cramps now and then. I
have seen her wait at table until she grew as grey as
ashes, and her face was drawn and pinched from
inward torture, yet resisting my entreaties that she
188
Eve's Daughters.
would give up and go to bed until the paroxysms had
passed. Her back was always weak, and she would,
her room-mate told me, "cry all night, she could not
tell why, only that she was so low-spirited," while the
"seasons" were upon her. She could "work steadily
the year through," but invariably stayed out-of-place
three or four months when the term was over, to get
her strength back before returning to her old home, or
taking a new one.
F—, Irish by birth, lived with me eight years, from
nineteen to her marriage, as child's nurse and seam-
stress. She "could do anything," and assured me when
I engaged her that she had "never been sick a day in
her life, and came from good old Irish stock." She
had filled the place to my satisfaction two years, when I
gathered from a talk with her that she was not "unwell"
above once in three months, and then slightly. But
she was "never a bit the worse for it. Most of her
acquaintances were onregular in one way or another.
The whole matter was a turrible setback to working
gurrls."
Dr. Clarke admits that "female operatives are as re-
gardless of any pressure upon them of a peculiar func-
tion as are their fashionable sisters in the polite world.
All unite in pushing the hateful thing out of sight and
out of mind; and all are punished by similar weakness,
degeneration, and disease."
Face to Face with Our Girl.
189
Had this poor servant-girl, who could not write her
own name, been, instead, a disciple of "the New Gos-
pel of female development," she could not have been
more scornful of the mechanism and functions peculiar
to her sex. She spoke of these with bashful reluctance,
and only in reply to my catechism as to the cause of
the headaches that began to trouble her. Two years
after her entrance upon her duties in my family, she
was prostrated by uterine hemorrhage that threatened
her life. Then she grew dyspeptic, hysterical, uncertain
in mood and temper, a victim to what, in a fine lady,
would be dignified as "vapors" or "nervous depres-
sion." She continued to be "onregular," and remained
incredulous to the physician's declaration, that the root
of the evil lay there. Her flesh was no longer firm, nor
her cheeks rosy, and one winter she was disabled for a
month by a tumor on the knee that narrowly escaped
development into the everywhere-and-always-dreaded
"white swelling." After her marriage, and the birth of
her first child, she collapsed as completely as a perma-
nently-disabled graduate could have done, and is now a
peevish, sickly, prematurely-old woman, with six puny
children pulling at her slatternly skirts.
"One or other of the young ones is always ailin'!" she
says, in a cracked whine. "It's quare the bad luck
some people have!"
These are not attractive "subjects" for diagnosis, and
190
Eve's Daughters.
I will not augment the disgust of my patrician reader
by subjoining a catalogue of the physical ailments and
miseries of “Jane in the factory."
It was my privilege and honor to be, for seven years,
the presiding officer of a society of practically-benevo-
lent women, whose chief business, as managers and
members of the organization, was to provide good, com-
fortable homes and honest employment for the work.
ing-women of a large manufacturing city. In the dis-
charge of the duties of my position, I met yearly hun-
dreds of shop-girls, factory-girls, seamstresses milliners,
and others who earned their living by manual labor.
Nothing that I saw and learned through my association
with this class impressed me more painfully than what
Dr. Clarke describes in graphic technicalities, as "the
numberless pale, weak, neuralgic, dyspeptic, hysterical,
menorrhagic, dysmenorrhic girls and women re-enact-
ing the labors of Nehemiah's builders upon the city-
walls with a difference; fighting disease with one hand,
while the other defended the door of their miserable
lodgings from the wolf of want, the hyena of shame.”
While there are obvious causes for the failure in
health of those who sleep and eat in crowded tenement-
houses, and spend their days amid the reek of machine-
oil and the flying fibers of cotton and wool; who are
poisoned by the exhalations of the paper-mill, and
hasten the arrival of their own hearses with the foot
Face to Face with Our Girl.
191
that drives the treadle of the sewing-machine ten hours.
a day-the conditions that surround the domestics in a
commodious modern house, managed by a humane mis-
tress, are totally different from those above given, and
should work out a different end. The comfort, the
healthful employment, the gentle demands upon the
higher powers of the intellect, approximate so nearly
the works and ways of our sainted, and when in the
flesh, "hale grandmothers," that the spectacle of
kitchen Jane's affluent bodily sanity should tempt col-
lege Jane to forswear the Dictionary, her little Latin,
and less Greek, and take to scrubbing, cooking, and
bed-making as the one hope of physical salvation and
restoration of the mysterious gray flakes that stand
with us for mental health. Whereas, when we come to
the examination of our "facts," the truth transpires
that college Jane and select-school Mary, cognizant of
the jars and grating of household wheels, because
Bridget, or Dinah, or Hannah "is not well to-day,"
have studied Baconian induction to little purpose if
they do not settle for themselves the fact that whatever
may be the prime cause of the general invalidism of
their sex, it is not undue mental application.
Being blessed-thanks to Education! with ears as
well as eyes,-in hearkening to Mamma's talk with
another district-visitor of the health-status of sewing-
girls and the inhumanity of employers who coop them
1
192
Eve's Daughters.
}
up in fetid rooms for sixteen out of twenty-four hours,
the sisters reach another logical conclusion. We will
adopt Mrs. Putnam-Jacobi's wording of it:
"It is in fact, a matter of common observation, that
hysterical and anemic women in whom disordered men-
struation is most frequently observed, are conspicu-
ously destitute of habits implying either cerebral or
spinal activity,—that is, they neither think much, nor
take much physical exercise."
I had written thus far when opening at random a
new book brought by the morning's mail, my eye was
caught by these happily-coincident words:
"This improvement in the physique of the Americans.
of the most favored classes during the last quarter of a
century is a fact more and more compelling the inspec-
tion both of the physician and the sociologist. . . . It
could not, in fact, be different, for we have better homes,
more suitable clothing, less anxiety, greater ease, and
more variety of healthful activity than even the best-
situated of our immediate ancestors. So inevitable
was this result that had it been otherwise, one might
well suspect that the law of causation had been sus-
pended.
"The first signs of ascension, as of declension, in
nations are seen in women. As the foliage of delicate
plants first shows the early warmth of Spring, and the
earliest frosts of Autumn, so the impressible, suscep-
Face to Face with Our Girl.
193
tive organization of woman appreciates and exhibits far
sooner than that of man the manifestations of natural
progress or decay."
"*
A deliverance like this from a candid writer, whose
tone is not always so optimistic and whose ability is
incontestable, is like the chime of a church-bell to fog-
lost mariners. It tells of the nearing land and in
what direction it lies. It moves me to give you joy,
my girl,—to congratulate you that you are not your
own grandmother, or even your respected mother; that
you belong, in a double sense, to the rising generation.
Whatever may have been our losses in the past, you
are on the winning side. The knowledge of this, the
possibility and the hope of the more excellent way
should give you heart of grace for the future laid
solemnly by GOD and man within your young hands.
* “American Nervousness," by George M. Beard, M.D., p. 335.
.


CHAPTER XI.
HOW SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
"There should be imposed no restraint which has not for its object
some good greater than the temporary evil of the restraint itself."-
DR. THOMAS BROWN, "Lectures on Ethics."

O make a free translation of our motto into
French slang,-The game ought to be worth
more than the candle.
In “cradling" or "panning" the ore of the
last chapter, we may add a few valuable contributions.
to our store of knowledge.
First. The prevalence of the same class of physical
disorders in so many women of varying antecedents
and habits argues a common origin of these maladies,
whether structural or functional.
Second. This would appear, upon the face of the
statistics as a collected Whole, to be gross neglect of
the important Third Part of her being which is to
Woman distinctive and not-to-be-ignored SEX.
Third. The disorder of this function is, if not di
How Shall Our Girl Study?
195
rectly induced, measurably aggravated by disobedience
to general hygienic laws,-notably those which pre-
scribe fresh air, sleep, regular but not excessive em-
ployment; good food, well-cooked; judicious physical
exercise, congenial occupation for the intellect and due
cultivation of the same, with stated seasons of rest for
mind and body, and such wholesome diversion of both
as may prepare them for repose.
Fourth. Work is a blessing and beneficial to mind,
body and estate. Labor is a curse of which variation
of employment and timely recreation are palliatives no
man or woman can reject with impunity.
Fifth. The "culture" which tends to maltreatment
of the body in overweening care of the intellect is one-
sided, and so flagrant a violation of Nature's intents
and purposes that few intelligent people are consciously
guilty of it. But, as a rule, those who care nothing for
mental growth, are equally negligent of the true good
of the body. Their ends are ignoble, their pleasures
coarse and few.
Health of mind implies symmetrical growth, contin-
ual enlargement of the sphere of intellectual view and
action; the power to see clearly, to judge fairly, and to
retain what has been acquired.
Health of body implies the normal condition and
action of the various functions of the physical being
in man and in woman. With the latter, this includes
196
Eve's Daughters.
what we will for the sake of euphony and convenience,
term the "rhythmic" return of such operations as are
by nature intermittent.
So long as to the average mind nothing is easier than
indiscriminate censure, and nothing more difficult (if we
except the practice of Christian charity) than a patient.
hearing of all sides of a question and an impartial ver-
dict—just so long will a bewildered public be pelted
with treatises and books from radicals who fight in dust
of their own raising in favor of physical reform on the
one side, and intellectual training on the other—pessi-
mists prophesying the speedy extinction of the Amer-
ican nation by sheer physical decay already begun in
its vitals, and optimists haranguing upon the perfecti-
bility of human nature, chiefly by the agency of Amer-
ican women, as the world's hope of redemption.
We—you and I, my listening girl—will try to rid our
eyes of dust and fog; in other words, the theories of
pseudo-scientists and blatant radicals, and survey the
situation dispassionately as it appears from a common-
sense vantage-ground.
We begin with a bit of very direct talk. There is noth-
ing in the history of human folly more egregiously incon-
sistent than the admixture of vanity and aversion, the
loving care and gross neglect manifested by most young
women with regard to their bodies. She, whom we saw,
awhile ago, disdainfully scouting the prospect of intel-
How Shall Our Girl Study?
197
lectual veneer and varnish, concentrates the attention
she bestows upon her physique upon the exterior. The
hidden works rust and clog and are worn into useless-
ness by attrition, disregarded by the owner who should
also be the kindly keeper. It is true, as you remind me,
that the body is, at best, but the vehicle of the higher
being, the spiritual and mental, the immortal essence
that shall outlive by all eternity to come this crum-
bling house of our pilgrimage, this urn wherein the soul
tarries for a night. So, the train that bears a living
freight of a thousand souls from the eastern to the
western ocean is but an ingenious combination of me-
chanical powers. What is your opinion of the engineer
who remits his watch of every joint and bar of the loco-
motive, who lets his fire go down, or the boiler run
dry?
The girl who devotes an hour a day for a fortnight
to learning how to "do" the fantastic scallops of her
fore-top, or to dispose her back-hair in a graceful coil
or knot; who discourses seriously of the absolute ne-
cessity of spending at least ten minutes each morning
in cleaning, trimming, and polishing, by help of a dainty
set of utensils, the finger-nails that in consequence of
this attention are like pink sea-shells, or curled rose-
petals; who studies the effect upon her style and com-
plexion of coiffure, cut, and color as diligently as she
cons Xenophon's Anabasis or Spherical Trigonometry,
198
Eve's Daughters.
can not, with any show of reason, affect contempt of
her corporeal substance.
She does love her body-the outside of it--with idol-
atrous affection that absorbs and dwarfs many worthier
emotions. Her neglect of the exquisite machinery it
encases is as puerile as it would be to pass hours in
burnishing the outside of a watch she never takes the
pains to wind up.
If I return once and again upon this branch of our
subject, it is because of my conviction that imperfect
appreciation of its value is the main cause of the na-
tional invalidism of our sex. The climate has to do
with it in so far as extremes of heat and cold, long rain,
deep snows, and spring mire hinder outdoor exercise.
But if mothers and daughters believed in the need of
physical culture with one-half the earnestness they feel
in the matter of intellectual improvement, these obsta-
cles would lose their formidableness in less than one
generation.
I hold firmly, furthermore, to the opinion that the
rapid degeneration of women-foreigners after a short
residence in our country is owing chiefly, if not alto-
gether, to their adoption of certain, and those the least
desirable, of our modes of life.
Bridget, whose ideas of indoor comfort have been
formed upon the smoky interior of a bog-trotter's cabin,
warmed by a handful of peat, and lighted by a farthing
How Shall Our Girl Study?
199
rush-candle, soon learns with the prodigality of genuine.
parvenuism, to fill the range up to the warped, red-hot
plate with coal at five dollars a ton. She demands a
drop-light upon the kitchen gas-burner, and "wouldn't
do a hand's turn in a situation where she had to put her
foot out o' doors to draw water or to fetch in kindlin'-
wood for the fire." Thin boots take the place of the
stout brogans in which she used to tramp four or five
miles to market or to church in all weathers. Her
walks are now confined to a stroll in her best clothes to
church on Sunday, and to the house of an “acquaint-
ance” after dark on week-days. She washes in a steam-
ing hot laundry, and without exchanging her wet slip-
pers for rubbers, or donning shawl or hood, goes into
the windy back-yard, perhaps covered with snow, to
hang out the clothes. The climate begins to tell ọn
her after a year or two of this sort of work-—and what
wonder? If these violent variations upon her former
self and existence are insufficient to break her down,
there are not wanting accessories to the unholy deed in
her close bedroom where the windows are never opened
in winter unless by her disgusted employer; in the
mountainous feather-bed and half-dozen blankets with-
out which she is quick to declare that she "could not
get a wink o' slape at night; havin' been used to kapin'
warm all her life." Add that she devours meat three
times a day with the rapacity of long repressed carniv-
200
Eve's Daughters.
orousness and keeps the tea-pot on the stove from
morning until night; that she "could live upon sweets"
of the most unwholesome and most expensive varieties,
and abhors early breakfasts—and we wax charitable to-
ward our maligned climate.
Dr. Beard says of "American women, even of direct
German and English descent": "Subject a part of the
year to the tyranny of heat, and a part to the tyranny
of cold, they grow unused to leaving the house; to live
in-doors is the rule; it is a rarity to go out, as with those
of Continental Europe it is to go in."
Bridget and Gretchen are overgrown children, gross
and undisciplined. If one of them bruises her head or
cuts her finger, she will wail or howl like a yearling
baby. Without work they can not have savory victuals
or fine clothes; hence they must labor so many hours
per diem. Thought and planning seldom go further,
especially if the settled purpose of catching husbands
whose wages will relieve them from the necessity of
"living out" be accepted as an extension of their
clumsy scheming.
Still, Bridget is an imitative animal, and develops
with civilization into a sort of aptness in this respect.
She
apes "the quality," while affecting to consider her-
self as good as anybody else. Before she can be re-
formed, her mistress must regulate her own habits and
those of her daughters in accordance with the dictates
How Shall Our Girl Study?
201
of reason and a right knowledge of established hygienic
laws. Our domestics-Celtic, Gaelic, Teutonic, Ameri-
can of African descent-being human creatures of habit,
copy their employers' language, and, to some extent,
their bearing. In some instances the resemblance, unin-
tentional though it may be, is absurdly accurate. The
maid models her apparel after that of the young ladies of
the house, and grafts upon her brogue or patois the in-
tonations of her mistress. These are tokens, and not
trivial ones, of the involuntary homage paid by igno-
rance to knowledge. When Mrs. Lofty and her
daughters reckon pure air and abundance of exercise
out-of-doors, wholesome food, sound sleep in cold.
rooms, stout shoes in wet weather, and invariable
cleanliness of person, among the necessaries of life and
requisites to beauty, when they prohibit feather-beds
as unfashionable abominations, and tea-tippling as
vulgar, the kitchen cabinet will follow suit, slowly, but
inevitably.
Until then, I fear that "the sons of the New World"
will be disappointed in the effect upon the next gener-
ation of their "magnificent experiment," should their
fresh-blooded foreign wives take up their residence in
America.
The simple truth is, that the expression, "care of the
health," conveys to the average listener the instant
thought of remedial measures—nothing more, and noth-
202
Eve's Daughters.
ing less. It is unnatural, argues the popular intellect,
for a well person to think constantly of preserving
bodily soundness, unless it is threatened, or has
been recently imperiled. A burnt child dreads the
fire. That a child that has never been scorched should
habitually keep at a safe distance from the flame is
without precedent, if not opposed to rational expecta-
tion. Yet the average listener, with the popular in-
tellect, if he is a man, greases the wheels and looks to
the linch-pins of his wagon before he sets off on a jour-
ney; has the sense to be angry with himself, as well as
ashamed, when a worn-out breeching-strap gives way
in going down-hill, or the swivel-tree, he "now remem-
bers has been cracked this great while," snaps asunder
behind a skittish horse. The dullest household drudge
shakes out and removes the ashes and adjusts the
dampers before she makes up her morning fires.
We have spoken together, and more than once, of
the propriety of creating a stomachic or dietetic con-
science. It is every whit as important to cultivate
conscientiousness in all respects toward the oft-defraud-
ed, incessantly ill-used body. In your schedule of
study and recreation, leave blanks to be filled out
generously by the fulfillment of the duties you owe to
this co-laborer with soul and mind. Do not be startled
when I enjoin that, should the mental duty clash with
the physical, it is the former that ought, with a young,
How Shall Our Girl Study?
203
growing girl, to yield to the assertion of the latter. It
is folly in a sick girl to study-an error which she
should perceive instinctively, however unversed she
may be in the details of physiology. In you, who
know why the blood pumped through artery and vein
thickens, or thins, or falters; why your headaches and
dumb nausea throw the cold sweat to the congesting
surface-it is SIN.
You have no more right to eat or drink what you
know will disagree with your digestion than you have
to drop a furtive pinch of arsenic, just enough to sicken
her slightly, into your school-fellow's cup of tea. It is
as truly your duty to eat regularly and enough of
wholesome, strength-giving food, wisely adapted to
your needs, as to pray, "Give us this day our daily
bread." Faith without sensible works does not bring
about miracles in our age. There is the same sin in
kind, if not in degree, in omitting your "constitu-
tional" walk to study a hard lesson you would like to
make sure of for to-morrow, that there is in picking
your neighbor's pocket, or cheating her in a bargain.
Both are dishonest actions, and in the long, but certain
run of justice, both are sure to be punished. Put your-
self in thought outside of your body; make an inven
tory of its capabilities and necessities.
It is your
soul's nearest neighbor. See to it that the soul loves it
as itself.
204
Eve's Daughters.
If your teachers are sagacious and just in apportion-
ing seasons for rest, exercise, and recreation, your duty
is the easier. If they are negligent of this in their mis-
taken zeal for the intellectual advancement of their pu-
pils, be a higher law unto yourself. It is the ignoramus
or the shirk who waits to be warned by the ominous
creak of the wheel that the oilless axle is heated and a
break-down imminent. It may be "plucky" to persist
in studying, with a blind headache that would distract
a girl of weaker will out of all power of concentration.
It is undoubtedly foolhardy.
I have in my mind now a gifted woman who told me
in the course of a talk upon the conservation of forces
how she had read and made an elaborate digest of a
scientific treatise while her head was bound about with
ice-cloths to assuage the anguished throbbing of her
temples, and her eyes could bear no more light than the
one powerful ray admitted between the curtains to fall
over her left shoulder directly upon the page.
Another rash adventurer of the same sex, determined
to lose no time in her musical education, was propped
up in bed during her convalescence from a spell of ty-
phoid fever. Her exercise-book was set up before her
on a frame, and she practiced first thirty minutes, then
an hour, finally two hours each day, in dumb show upon
a key-board penciled on a pillow. She has been in her
grave for twenty years now. Her friends were wont to
How Shall Our Girl Study?
205
tell pridefully of the heroic battle with languor and
pain I have described, and regret in the same breath
that "that fever left her a mere wreck. With strength
and health she would doubtless have accomplished
much in the musical world."
The heroine of headache and scientific tastes still
lives and still fights with bodily ills as with a visible
Apollyon. She can not walk across the room without
assistance, so abject is the ruin of the nervous system;
and in every day she dies a hundred deaths with tic
douloureux and sciatica. We may reiterate here, with
a different application, Dr. Beard's words:
"So inevitable was this result, that had it been other-
wise, one might well suspect that the law of causation
had been suspended."
It is then absurd, and as cruel as foolish, to lash on
with whip and spur a faithful servitor to whom you
owe the liberty to study at all. How unwise and
short-sighted is the self-will you vaunt let an abler pen
than mine tell you, and in formula instead of illustra-
tion. Dr. Anstie, in a treatise upon "Neuralgia”.
which I commend to the perusal of all afflicted with
that malady—thus writes:
"In the abnormal strain that is being put on the
brain in many cases by a forcing plan of education, we
shall perceive a source, not merely of exhaustive ex-
penditure of nervous power, but of secondary irritation
206
Eve's Daughters.
of centres like the medulla oblongata, that are probably
already somewhat lowered in power of vital resistance
and proportionably irritable."
The medulla oblongata is, as your physiological
books have taught you, a marrowy, oblong body con-
necting the spinal cord with the brain. To strain this
delicate nerve-centre is to deplete the nervous tissues
more rapidly than they can be repaired. In more di-
rect terms, it is to sap the citadel of Reason and of
Life. To irritate the medulla oblongata is to risk
brain-fever. Excessive mental application without re-
cuperation of mind and body, loss of sleep, stress of ex-
cited thought, particularly upon one agitating theme,
are both strain and irritation.
You have a fixed income of physical energy. Your
"pluck" is mental force. The two together accomplish
the finest results of which human kind is capable. The
bodily powers are the treasure-house in which Nature
has deposited your wealth, the dowry settled upon you
as your birth-right, to be controlled by yourself alone,
with your parents as trustees during your infancy and
childhood. Their judicious management has aug-
mented the original deposit, until you find yourself
now in possession of a handsome competency, invested
in stocks that will yield fair and ample returns.
will call the will-power or moral force the cheques that
draw upon the invested sums. So long as only the
We
How Shall Our Girl Study?
207
regularly-accruing interest is used up by your daily
and yearly expenses you are none the poorer, and the
community in which you live is the richer for what you
throw into general circulation. From the day in which
you begin to draw upon the principal, the interest be-
comes smaller. The necessity of accumulation ob-
trudes itself if you would not be gradually impover-
ished.
This is a figure, but it embodies fact, fixed and re-
lentless. I do not affect to tell you that your chances
of prize or diploma are lessened by present drifts
upon your vested capital of strength. The probability
is that you have enough and more than enough, or
can borrow upon easy terms what will be needed to
"put you through" this semester, perhaps all that
you will require until the Commencement-Day that will
round off your course. This frank admission is my
key to Dr. Clarke's chapter, entitled "Chiefly Clinical."
Turn, if you have his book—and no woman can
afford to leave it unread-to pages 98 and 99, and study
with me the case of Miss F, who "completed
her technical education when she was about twenty
years old."
We touch a clew to the final catastrophe in the sec-
ond sentence of the narrative.
"She inherited a nervous diathesis as well as a large
dower of intellectual and æsthetic graces."
208
Eve's Daughters.
(The italics are mine).
We read through the record of her scholastic career,
-that she was "mistress of several languages and ac-
complished in many ways," and come suddenly upon
the collapse, a wreck so pitiable that I have not the
heart to transcribe it.
Dr. Clarke thus accounts for the tragical close of her
school-life:
"While a student she wrought continuously,-just
as much during the catamenial week as at other times.
As a consequence, in her metamorphosis of tissue, re-
pair did little more than make up waste."
Sequel of this improvidence and extravagance,-to
carry out our figure-Insolvency.
As a woman who was once a hard-worked school-girl ;
as a mother of daughters and the mistress of women-
servants, I should, without discarding our physician's
theory in toto or even in part, look backward and nar-
rowly along the line of Miss F.'s life, for the causes of
her misfortune. I should inquire, first of all, into her
home-training as a child; then, as to her diet,-whether
she ate enough and regularly, or too much and irregu-
larly; how many hours she slept and how her dor-
mitory was ventilated; if she had a bedfellow, and if
so, who she was; how much time was given to exercise
in the open air in daylight and sunshine; what was the
tenor of her reading as child and girl and the tone of
How Shall Our Girl Study?
209
her associates; -- finally, whether her inheritance of
nervous sensitiveness did not make her an anxious, no
less than a faithful student.
The continual attrition of what are commonly styled
secondary causes," upon the thread of human vitality,
prepare it for the break we ascribe to the last and
heaviest weight hung upon it.
To apply our principles personally; if you have
sufficient prudence and resolution to intermit lessons
entirely, until the actual pain of the headache passes, I
am thankful with, and proud of you. But do you ever
note, as a matter of any consequence, that your feet
and hands grow cold and colder as you become earnest
in study? that you have fallen into the habit of often
pressing your hands to your face to warm icy fingers
and to cool glowing cheeks? that your throat aches
and there is an awful "goneness" in the pit of the
stomach, when the fate of a problem trembles in the
balance? Your feet remain "blocks of ice" far into
the night, while your head cools off slowly with the
stealing mists of Dream-Land. You lie awake for
hours after home or school-rules drive you to your pil-
low, and use this as an argument (how often I hear it!)
against the tyrannical dictum-"early to bed." It is
worse than nonsensical, you contend, to go to bed when
one can not sleep; that the uneasy tossings of in-
somnia tire you more than it would to sit up and read
210
Eve's Daughters.
yourself into drowsiness. Notwithstanding the cogent
allegations of a young woman who "knows" logic,
mother and teacher and doctor will sustain the propo-
sition that it is better for you to lie awake, undressed
in an unlighted room, than to sit up awake in your
day-attire in the glare of lamp or gas-burner. If you
do not secure Sleep's best boon,-nerve-rest,-the ten-
sion of muscles, eyes, and skin is relaxed, and all
young things grow most healthfully in the darkness.
Perhaps you fall asleep soon after going to bed, but to
re-enact in dreams, with the superadded distresses of
unreined imagination, the events of the day. You foot
up endless lines and blocks of figures upon black-boards
that stretch out into space as you cipher, and the sums-
total must be written within a stated and horribly short
time. Or recitation-hour is upon you, and you have
neither lesson, nor book. Or you stand publicly dis-
graced on Examination-Day for failing to recite that
which you agonize in nightmare to articulate.
These symptoms, familiar to triteness to every in-
dustrious pupil, are so many signals of danger, slight
as is the attention bestowed upon them in clinical
chapters and by practical educators and learners. With-
out darkening our common-sense talk with technical-
ities, repelling virtuously the temptation to air our
knowledge of the cerebro-spinal system, vaso-motor
centres, and the menace of vaso-motor paralysis,-we
How Shall Our Girl Study?
211
may refer the discomforts we have enumerated—if we
except the hysterical choking and faintness,—to a single
specific cause; to wit, an abnormal tendency of blood
to the head. Intellectual excitement pumps the blood
to the brain; sleep draws it gently away. When it
deserts the extremities, it has sought other and unlaw-
ful quarters. Restore healthful circulation by rubbing
your feet with dry flannel; "toasting" them as hot as
you can bear at an open fire, if you have access to that
cheery and wholesome appliance to a living-room.
Better than either of these is a brisk run in the outer
air when the weather will permit. If you can not con-
veniently take this, you can walk up and down a hall
or chamber until you are in a glow. Five minutes
'wasted" in this way will send you back to your books
easier in body, clearer of thought. When the blood-
vessels of throat and head are turgid, there ensue a
sensation of fullness and pressure about the top of the
cranium, the temples and the eyes; ringing and roaring
in the ears; sometimes, a dull ache at the base of the
skull; frequently a low nausea, mistaken for dyspepsia,
which is sympathy with the oppressed centre of nerve
and thought. These indicate incipient suffusion of the
brain,—one of the deadliest foes of mortal life. Usually
they are relieved by a natural rally along the line of the
abused physical forces. Sometimes the aid of remedial
arts is required to restore equilibrium to the disturbed
"
212
Eve's Daughters.
system. Now and then, Nature and Art fail singly,
and in combination; the blood congests on the surface
and in the substance of the brain, and the patient is a
corpse in a few minutes. You can not prepare the way
to this end more effectually than by the habitual disre-
gard of the premonitions of cerebral discomfort.
Never, if you can avoid it, go to bed very hungry.
A single cracker, or a dry crust of bread, will stimulate
the stomach so far as to summon the vagrant blood to
the coat of that organ, and give it something better to
do than provoking ugly dreams. The persistent recur-
rence of these is an indication that you are drawing too
heavily upon your capital; exhausting the cellular tis-
sues faster than nature can repair them. When the
mind will no longer obey the helm of will, she needs
looking after. A little timely attention may set all
right without resorting to the dry-dock of a prolonged
vacation. Do not study up to bed-time. Preface the
hour of retiring by a walk on the piazza, a merry carpet-
dance, a bright, sketchy chat with a favorite friend, a
chapter of "Pickwick Papers,"—any pleasant diversion
that will lift the machine out of the work-groove and
set it in easy motion upon another track, or remove the
belting and let the wheel rest.
All this is relevant to our chapter-motto, discursive
as it may seem. Restraint of desire is a temporary evil.
The curb that hinders the onward bound of a mind just
ཐ.
How Shall Our Girl Study.
213
awakening to a sense of its own powers is irksome and
distressing. Youth is so full of brilliant possibilities;
the young are so sublime in self-confidence; so zealous
in unbelief in failure to reach the goal, that we smile
and love, while we repress. Ambition to excel in a
noble pursuit, to improve to the utmost the season and
opportunities granted for academic education is praise-
worthy. It is when laudable ambition overleaps the
pale of safety; when commendable desire is indulged at
the certain risk of health; when the incessant applica-
tion of one, two, or three semesters is to be succeeded
by as many years of inaction and suffering, that the un-
equal value of game and candle is patent.
"Without haste, without rest," is a jog-trot maxim
run off by many a tongue, and meaning very little that
is good or sensible. Haste and rest are not, critically
considered, antithetical terms. Labor and rest are.
Work done in haste is apt to be slovenly, although this
consequence is not a necessity. Haste is also indiscreet
because it begets an unhealthy activity of mental and
physical forces. Rest is an invariable human need-a
sacred personal and religious duty. Evasion of this
upon specious pretexts is more than an indiscretion. It
is one of the gravest, as it is one of the most common
of popular errors.

CHAPTER XII.
THE RHYTHMIC CHECK.
"Is there any other instance in which Nature says in the most dis-
tinct and imperious language, 'Thou shalt not do this?' and also in
language equally imperious, if not equally distinct, 'If thou dost,
thou shalt be punished as in other cases those only are punished who
transgress my laws.'"-W. R. GREG, "Enigmas of Life."

N no other physical habit do individual idio-
syncrasies assert themselves more strongly
and vary more widely than in the matter of
that periodical function of the Third Part of
woman's nature, which we shall denominate hencefor-
ward the Rhythmic Check upon her ordinary avoca-
tions of mind and body. In no other is the law of
Heredity accentuated more distinctly.
We have already dwelt, somewhat at length, upon
the culpable neglect of this vital function on the part
of our hale grandmothers. In the recollection of their
blunders and follies, their rigorous treatment of them-
selves and their growing daughters, we read the accom-
The Rhythmic Check.
215
panying extract with bitterness of meaning, conceived
by personal pain and born of an ever-rankling conscious-
ness of having carried weight in life from our trial-
heat.
"The steps are few and direct from frequent loss of
blood, impoverished blood and abnormal brain and
nerve metamorphosis to loss of mental force and nerve
disease. Ignorance or carelessness leads to anemic
blood, and that to an anemic mind. As the blood, so
the brain; as the brain, so the mind."*
Our feminine progenitors never vexed their selfish or
thrifty souls with such calculations of possible culmina-
tion of evils implanted by themselves. Dr. Thomas in-
forms us that they had irregularities many, with internal
tumors and cancers, and the rest of the sickening list of
"incidental" disorders we are prone to believe are in-
digenous to our land and coincident with this era only.
There was good stuff in the matrons of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries; indomitable fortitude and
patience. They rebelled as stoutly against the incon-
veniences of their sex as do our Amazonian reformers,
but silently, for the most part, because hopelessly. If
they submitted in seeming to their manifest humilia-
tion, as weaker vessels, we know from traditional mut-
terings that have descended to us-here a sigh, and
* "Sex in Education,” p. 96.
216
Eve's Daughters.
there a curse on the day that saw their birth in the
form of woman-that the iron they could not withdraw
rusted into their souls. In order to be tolerably re-
signed to their lot, they slurred over the whole matter
with the fewest possible thoughts and words. Woman-
hood was a legacy of shame and woe from the Mother
of all the living, reasoned the philosophical and the
pious, for once in concert. Since it could not be cast
aside, they endured, some sullenly, more in humble
hope of another and a sexless existence.
We show ourselves by so much the wiser than our
foremothers as we cheerfully accept the fact of our
temporary weakness-not as a disgrace-the Lord who
made us women forbid! but as a wise and gracious
means to an important and beneficent end. There is
nothing more mortifying in a woman's need of taking
one day's rest in thirty than in a Christian community's
rest from ordinary occupations for one day in every
seven.
Dr. Clarke's mention of the "catamenial week" has
raised such an uproar of opposition from the sex most
interested, that we have allowed our attention to be di-
verted by the clamor from his modification of the
sentence.
-"re-
"Some individuals"—this is his statement
quire at that time a complete intermission from mental
and physical effort, for a single day; others, for two
The Rhythmic Check.
217
or three days; others require only a remission, and can
do half-work safely for two or three days, and their
usual work after that."
I confess my inability to understand why the most
captious stickler for her right, as an independent femi-
nine entity, to work herself to death as fast as she likes,
can take exception to this very mild prohibitory clause.
A simpleton must see that it is preposterous to assign
any limit to the period of prudent inaction or remission
when the degrees of pain and inconvenience endured
during the recurrent indisposition are so different in dif-
ferent women.
Generally, it is safe to say that a healthy girl subject
to no hereditary peculiarities suffers little, unless in
consequence of recent imprudence, such as taking cold,
or getting her feet wet. Others have a few hours of
sharp pain, only relieved by lying down, keeping the
feet warm, and perhaps drinking a cup of hot herb or
ginger-tea. With the passing of the acute paroxysms
ends all actual suffering. Others, again, and this is by
far the largest class, recognize the approach of the
season in slight headache, fullness about the brain and
a disposition to nausea, with weakness and a sense of
weight in the lower part of the back. These symptoms
last for a day-sometimes for two. The eyes are
affected, more or less, and the mind, for the first twenty-
four hours, works neither as freely nor as strongly as
218
Eve's Daughters.
usual. Occasionally the period is preceded by general
lowness of spirits, and accompanied by a sort of weak
irritability. The girl is easily wrought up to tears and
temper, and becomes capricious in appetite.
I am so happy as to count among my acquaintances
one teacher of a girls' school, who enjoins upon her
boarders and prescribes for day scholars at least one
day's cessation of physical and intellectual labor at the
beginning of the catamenial period. If the girl suffers
from pain she is put to bed or laid upon the lounge for
that day. If her only infirmity is general uncomfort-
ableness and peevish debility, she is compelled to remain
quietly in the house for the same time, and left to
amuse herself, should her eyes allow the indulgence,
with light reading or a trifle of fancy-work. The cases
are rare in which the pupil is not ready to resume her
lessons on the second day. So palpable are the excel-
lent effects of this plan, that those under this lady's
care, if slightly restive at first, fall quietly into the
habits enjoined after two or three trials of the experi-
ment, and gratefully acknowledge themselves the debt-
ors of her whose punctilios they were once disposed to
deride.
Avoid violent exercise through the whole period.
Dancing, long walks, horseback rides, gymnastics,
jumping from stile or stair, should be as imperatively
excluded from the programme of the day as if you were
The Rhythmic Check.
219
((
confined to your bed with illness. Displacement of the
uterus, or spinal weakness, so often succeeds indulgence
in any of these, that the wonder is how mothers can
suffer their daughters to tempt the risk, and that
daughters dare take it. It matters not how "comfort-
able" you feel. An hour of dancing school, two hours.
in the ball-room, are almost sure to increase the flow
that had nearly ceased, and to bring on a slow morbid
aching in the small of the back. These declare, in un-
mistakable language, that harm has been done. You
always come right again in a few hours or days," you
aver carelessly. But to every "always" of physical
condition and being there comes an end. You bring
that bitter by-and-by nearer with each imprudent act.
There is an entry on the debit page of Life's ledger.
A mark is scored against you that will tell in the bal-
ancing of the reckoning. Nature is an exact account-
ant, who, in posting her books, sets down nothing to
profit and loss. She is a law-giver who catalogues im-
prudence and lapses from the letter and spirit of the
commandment alike as "Transgression "—a magistrate
whose sentence upon the guilty is as inflexible as that
of a New Jersey Judge. In her system of jurisprudence
there is no Court of Appeals, and, this side of Heaven,
no pardoning power. Of physical wrong it may truly
be written that "Every transgression and disobedience
receive a just recompense of reward."
220
Eve's Daughters.
While the rhythmic check holds you, try to maintain
tranquillity of mind and spirit, no less than of body.
One prime cause of the serious disorders of function
and structure to which girl-students are liable is, beyond
cavil, that they join to the natural wear-and-tear of
brain matter excitement of the nervous system, an
amount of mental agitation unknown to the average
boy. You consume enough cellular tissue in the prep-
aration and recitation of a single lesson to last your
brother through half a term. It is like using a steam
pile-driver to stick a pin into a bow of ribbon. When
the task is over you are "weary of your life." The idle
phrase has a flavor of terrible significance, which you
are far from divining. A life so new as yours should
never be a burden.
We have come, step by step, to a subject so momen-
tous in nature and consequences, and so vast in its scope,
that we may well hesitate to do more than skirt the edge
of the tract. Most works upon so-called "Nervousness
and the ramifications of diseases gathered for considera-
tion under that head, treat the topic exhaustively in more
than one sense. The fascinated reader becomes to his
introspective vision, by the time the book is finished,
an animate reticulated organism, sensuous, palpitating,
tortured out of the power to form a just diagnosis of
his own malady, or to judge if he has one. Of my free
will, I would never read what is commonly known as a
The Rhythmic Check.
221
"doctor's book," that is, a thesis upon specific diseases
and their treatment. While I do commend to every
woman the study of physiological works that describe
the body in all its parts, in a normal state, the position
and office of every organ and the right management of
these, I would not allow any one except a medical
student free access to a physician's library. Certainly,
never an imaginative girl or an invalid of either sex.
There are volumes, however, which have been care-
fully prepared by medical men for popular reading, and
which that portion of the public that is set in families,
can not, ought not to dispense with. Dr. Beard's
work, already alluded to, is curious and interesting
reading, rich in suggestions of the Future of our na-
tion. A neat little volume on my desk opens of itself
at a passage against which I penciled emphatic ap-
proval, months ago. I can not help copying it here
entire, supplying italics, also, because I can not help it.
"Looking broadly at the question of the influence of
excessive and prolonged use of the brain upon the health
of the nervous system, we learn, first, that cases of
cerebral exhaustion in people who live wisely are rare.
Eat regularly and exercise freely, and there is scarcely
a limit to the work you may get out of the thinking
organs.
“But if into the life of a man, whose powers are fully
taxed, we bring the elements of great anxiety or worry,
222
Eve's Daughters.
the whole machinery begins at once to work, as it were,
with a dangerous amount of friction. Add to this con-
stant fatigue of body, such as some forms of business
bring about, and you have all the means needed to ruin
the man's power of useful labor."*
((
'Boys!" says the novice in prayer-meeting exhorta-
tion in "Cape Cod Folks." "And girls, too," he added,
more gently. "And girls, too. Certainly, I think so,"
he continued. "I think so!"
Change the sex of the "Wear and Tear" extract, and
we begin to see light through the great darkness that
may be felt. You-our girl-work at a disadvantage,
because you study in such deadly, such superfluous
earnest. It is a well-established physiological law that
any active emotion, as of anger, anxiety, grief, or ex-
treme joy, experienced during the period of the cata-
menial flow, acts swiftly and powerfully upon the organs
from which it proceeds. Instances are very numerous
where it is induced prematurely by excessive agitation,
and quite as frequent where the discharge is suddenly
arrested by like causes. If you could train yourself to
do "half-work" in a rational manner, it would probably
not injure you to study on the crucial day of the rhyth-
mic trial. If it were in you to "take things coolly," as
a rule; to prepare your tasks for the intervening three
* "Wear and Tear,” p. 18.
The Rhythmic Check.
223
weeks with calm assiduity of attention; to finish one
thing before darting at another; to keep your work well
in hand, with your own inclinations and impulses-in
brief, to become acknowledged mistress of yourself—
you would accomplish more than all the doctors in the
land could effect in the establishment of painless regu-
larity in the recurrence of the "seasons." The unsettled
hurry, the looking away and forward from the business
in hand, the untimely speculations as to to-morrow's
probabilities, which are conspicuous phases of American
Worry, grow into a physical, as well as a mental habit.
A man borrows trouble upon long credit; a woman
gives bills payable at sight and lives in daily dread of
their presentation. Now, while all your powers are in
the formative state, set about learning how to work
methodically and temperately, and a more severe task—
by the day, instead of by the job. When you find your
hand trembling and breath coming irregularly; when
your heart throbs audibly and something that beats
like a clock in your temples answers, stroke for stroke
-stop! Let go thought and book entirely while you
raise a window and look into the street, or walk around
the house once, or, if you must sit still, shut your eyes
and project your fancy-we will say, into a stubble-field.
Think of something amusing—or insufferably stupid.
Good Mr. Meagles's counsel to ill-regulated Tattycoram.
"Count five-and-twenty before you speak," is worth
224
Eve's Daughters.
remembering and adopting in the circumstances. If
you would count four times five-and-twenty before
thinking again, the thought would be better worth hav-
ing than the forced product of a mind at fever-heat.
You may make rebels of your bodily functions; you
cannot enslave them. Managed intelligently and kindly,
they will serve you well all your days, and your days be
longer in the land than were those of your grand-
mothers.
"Whoso will observe the wonderful providences of
GOD, shall have wonderful providences to observe," re-
marks a pithy old author. The same may be said of
the wonderful machinery inclosed in your mortal frame.
The rhythmical response of nerve to fiber, and of tissue
to function, is harmonious in the normal perfection of
GOD'S making. As you regulate each jarred section in
consonance with the design of the Creator, you will
grow into delighted appreciation of the fitness and
beauty of the structure it is the fashion to decry as a
clog upon the immortal soul.
The prophylactic, or health-preserving art, is a more
useful, as it is a more graceful study than that of thera-
peutics—the Sisyphus-labor of health-restoration.
"Women make work so hard!" is a masculine form
of reproach, and better-founded than are most slurs upon
our works and ways from that source.
We do work harder, faster, less patiently than men.
The Rhythmic Check.
225
We marshal the affections into the area of the intellect
-idealizing the real, and embodying the ideal into ob-
jects to be appropriated and loved.
A boy likes his Latin. A girl "just loves it!" He
works out a problem thoughtfully and deliberately,
staying his hand to whistle a tune under his breath
and still meditatively, over an obdurate sticking point.
N. B.-There is a sticking-point in every worthy en-
terprise. When you do not happen upon one, look
sharply to your bearings. It is never casy all the way
except down hill.
The boy's pulse is not accelerated one half beat by
the difficulties he encounters. He is philosophical over
a failure that would "drive you fairly wild." In five
minutes after he has been "marked down" in conse-
quence of the fiasco, or been applauded for writing out
the solution, he has forgotten lesson-book and pre-
ceptor on the play-ground. The equilibrium of gray
thought-flakes and regularity of blood-tides are per-
fectly restored. He is as good as new-and better.
If you can not emulate his equanimity, yet have the
fairness and candor to acknowledge the gentle and
wholesome ministry of the Rhythmic Check upon your
impetuosity; the Sabbatical calming of hot and high
life-currents; the breathing-space in the shaded valley
before again attempting the heights.
10*

+
CHAPTER XIII.
AMERICAN WORRY.
Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow pas.
sage, and, looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied
two lions in the way.
'(The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.)"-Pilgrim's
Progress.

T is a popular fallacy, flattering to the objects
of it, that women are more patient than men.
Morally they are so much braver, and in
the endurance of pain exhibit so much more
fortitude, it is not strange that they should be accred-
ited with the virtue which Wendell Phillips calls "that
passion of noble souls." It is as natural in the begin-
ning for a boy to untie a knot, as for you who are a
girl to tug at it, stamp your foot, and cry out for a pair
of scissors. The bovine pertinacity with which your
brother digs away at the incomplete task you mastered
in one-third of the time he has already spent upon it,
irritates you beyond control. You fillip bits of caustic
irony at him; allude to him as "His Snailship" and
American Worry.
227
"Blunderbore," and thank Heaven audibly in his hear-
ing that you are made of different material from this
hulking lad. You criticise your father in terms more
respectful, but in the same spirit; wonder Mamma does
not stir him up to do this and that thing for which she
and the daughters petition repeatedly, instead of prom-
ising “to see about it." You know that such supine-
ness and sluggishness would kill you outright, and bite
back by strenuous effort the saucy comment upon the
prosy ratiocination by which he gains the conclusion
you perceived with half an eye.
I read once an ingenious paper upon the "Natural
Antagonism of the Sexes," that contained some capital
hits at the mutual intolerance of men and women, boys
and girls. In my judgment, quarrels between brothers
and sisters, lovers, husbands and wives, have for their
sharpest provocative the lack of charity arising from an
inability on the side of the man to comprehend why the
woman should be so quick, and on that of the woman
how even a man can be so slow.
You can not "sit on a cushion and sew up a seam,"
without assigning to yourself a task-a "stent," as the
old-fashioned folks say that must be finished in a
given time. There is no especial propriety in this al-
lotment, but you can not work comfortably without
settling what you are to do, and how long you are to
be about it. Nor is there any more reason in your de-
228
Eve's Daughters.
termination that the lesson begun at four shall be fin-
ished at five, beyond your impatience to get it—you
probably call it "the old thing"-out of the way. In
two days you are sick and tired of a drawing that will
occupy all the time you can give to your pencil for ten
days, if you would do it justice. You injure the trans-
parency of your colors by laying in a shade which
should not be applied until the first coat is dry.
While you "love"
"love" your studies, you act nevertheless
as if the operation of acquiring knowledge were an en-
emy, real and personal, while you are engaged in it.
You clutch your work with both hands, instead of qui-
etly laying hold of it. Opposition to obstacles, the re-
solve to master a given point call out, not a calm rally
of will and massing of suitable forces, but a bustling
press of every available energy that leaves no reserves
to hold the camp.
"The physiological principle of doing only one thing
at a time if you would do it well, holds as truly of the
growth of the organization as it does of the perform-
ance of any of its special functions."
Dr. Clarke's truism has many facets, all reflecting
light. That restless brain of yours must be steadied
upon the contemplation of "one thing" before you can
do it well. To your apprehension the least practicable
of Scripture injunctions is, " Be not therefore anxious for
to-morrow," or that other, "Be not anxious for your life."
American Worry.
229
It is so much to you-this precious, untried life of
yours--" all the life you can ever have in this world!”
you say, piteously. You touch and handle the unproved
armor with delight so intense as to trench upon pain.
We who have worn ours so long that spiritual muscles
and joints are inured to pressure and abrasion, preach
vainly of the wisdom of living but one day in twenty-
four hours. We tell you,-tenderly, for our hearts are
one long moved memory of our own Spring-time,-
that while the Father gives us some blessings as He
bestows the fruitage of the vine in clusters, He pours
out the elixir of life drop by drop, minute by minute,
taking away each before the next is granted. It sounds
to you like the penurious prating of little souls—so full
is your cup, so radiant the glitter from untasted depths.
The myth of Cleopatra's dissolved pearl is apposite to
your desires, and, so far as you can fulfill them, to your
practice.
It is natural to reach and commendable to upraise a
lofty Ideal.
"He who aimeth at the stars shall hit a
nobler mark than if he aimed no higher than a tree."
Your aim will be the truer, your chance of success fairer
if your pulses are strong and even, your eyes steady.
Drill thoughts and nerves into patient attention to the
work of one hour, resolutely waiving off the encroach-
ing shadow of the next. Fill your heart and hands
full of To-day. To-morrow belongs to GOD. You
230
Eve's Daughters.
have not his permission to overdraw your allowance of
daily grace. There is a lulling quality, like the ripple
of a brook under the moonlight, or the touch of a cool
hand upon the fevered eye-balls, in Longfellow's:
'To-morrow! the mysterious, unknown guest,
Who cries to me; 'Remember Barmecide,
And tremble to be happy with the rest.'
And I make answer, I am satisfied:
I dare not ask; I know not what is best;
GOD hath already said what shall betide.'
It is not Work, but impatient solicitude, the fretting,
teasing thought and care for the next minute, the next
hour, the next day, to which we apply the homely term,
"Worry," that breaks down our school-girl; that,
growing with her growth, and strengthening with her
strength, becomes the leading characteristic of the
woman. So linked are our associations of this quality
with our acquaintanceship with earnest workers, -
women of practical philanthropy; women of practical
housewifery; women of practical piety; with mothers
whose children shall rise up and call them blessed; with
Deborahs in the Israel of literature to whom the people
come up for judgment,—that we have come to infer
indolence and incapacity of her who is "easy-going "
in philosophy and action. Yet we all know excep-
tional women whose quiet, well-directed energies achieve
marvels in their peculiar line of work. They run not
as one who beateth the air, but run with patience.
American Worry.
231
Next to the faculty of concentrating and guiding
thought, I rank in value among soul-powers the ability
to control the nerves, to equalize and rightly to dis-
tribute the crude forces whose zeal is not according to
knowledge, and instruct them by rigid discipline to
obey Will rather than Feeling. In more direct lan-
guage, keep Feeling out of work as much as possible.
Make resolution and industry to depend upon con-
science. The ability to do this argues excellent mental
training, and is not incompatible with a hearty enjoy-
ment of work for its own sake. On the other hand,
feeling, heart,—all that is loosely generalized under the
head of the emotions,—is too apt, if pressed into a
service for which it is not fitted, to lose morale, like
other injudiciously-applied agencies, and to degenerate
into morbid sentimentality. If you would test the
truth of this assertion, ask yourself how many of your
mates are depressed into misery by the anticipated loss
of a place in class, and cry over discouraging lessons;
how many older women break down over a vexatious
piece of work, or the disarrangement caused by an ac-
cident, and weep as for the loss of father or brother.
It sounds well to say that "she throws her whole heart
into whatever she undertakes, be it a great or a small
matter." In effect, it is senseless trifling with a deli-
cate and precious thing. Except when Royalty goes
through the pretty farce of laying the corner-stone of
232
Eve's Daughters.
public buildings, silver trowels are not used for spread-
ing mortar. It is as proper to take up ashes with a
gold spoon as to excite feeling to hysterical vehemence
in conning a lesson in trigonometry. If you would
prove your brain to be sexless, divorce it from the heart.
In this respect, at any rate, require it to do a man's
work in a man's way. And do not fear that the pro-
cess will make of your womanly self an "intellectual
abstraction." The body is the handmaid of the mind.
Never forget that; nor that the mistress toils at a fear-
ful disadvantage who is constantly obliged to make
allowances for the weakness, or to supplement the in-
competency of her servant. Also, that in a well-bal-
anced household, mistress and maid have, each, her
separate task, and that the most obliging subordinate
will weary and turn surly if called off too often from
her appointed business to "lend a hand" to what her
employer has undertaken to perform. She "didn't hire
for that kind of work," she informs you. Your nerv-
ous system tells you the same thing, and as positively,
many times a day, but since the protest is not coupled
with a month's or week's notice to quit, you pay no
heed to the warning voice.
I have just been re-reading Mrs. Putnam Jacobi's
erudite essay upon "Mental Action and Physical
Health," and proudly subjoin her evidence to the truth-
American Worry.
233
fulness of what I have here written of my own views
on this subject:-
'The fatigue experienced after excessive emotion,
especially if this be of a depressing character, and ac-
companied by tears (which imply vaso-motor paralysis
in the lachrymal glands,) is generalized all over the
body, and is, moreover, very much more often followed
by headache, or by symptoms of cerebral congestion,
or anæmia, than is the act of thinking except in persons
morbidly predisposed.
"When nervous exhaustion is observed after pro-
longed mental effort, one of two other conditions, or
both, has nearly always co-existed, namely, deficiency of
physical exercise, or presence of active emotion, as ardent
ambitions, or harassing anxieties."
As usual, I italicize to serve the end I have in view.
Dr. Beard thus diagnoses Worry and defines what
Work is:
"Worry is the converse of Work; the one develops
force, the other checks its development, and wastes
what already exists. Work is growth; Worry is inter-
ference with growth. Worry is to Work what the chaf-
ing of a plant against the walls of a green-house is to
limitless expansion in the free air. In the successful
brain-worker Worry is transferred into Work. In the
muscle-worker Work too often degrades into Worry.
Brain-work is the highest of all antidotes to Worry."
234
Eve's Daughters.
And on the preceding page we have:
"1. The inherent and essential healthfulness of brain-
work when unaccompanied by worry. To work is to
grow, and growth, except it be forced, is always health-
ful. It is as much the function of the brain to cerebrate
as of the stomach to digest; and cerebration, like diges-
tion, is normal, physiological, and healthful."*
Without making this chapter "chiefly clinical," let
me cite a story or two taken from life.
I know a pretty little woman who has neither chil-
dren nor accomplishments to draw off her attention
from the care of her health. She is bright, popular,
fashionable, and without having been graduated at any
Woman's College, or Annex, is physically wrecked.
She has no organic disease, say her physicians; also,
that her sick headaches are constitutional and heredit-
ary. She is rich, and has no money-anxieties. Her
husband adores her, and she is free from jealousies and
the pangs of unrequited affection. She is kind-hearted
and charitable in judgment, as in act; wishes well to
everybody, and is, therefore, not poisoned by spleen
and envy. But her nervous system is in armed revolt;
has overrun her, body and soul. Nobody is surprised.
Everybody prophesied years ago, that her nerves would
master her strength, if not her reason. As a child, she
* "American Nervousness," pp. 201, 202.
American Worry.
235
lost appetite, and went into tearful ecstasies at the gift
of a new doll. As a slim school-girl, she refused food,
and could not sleep at night, if the morrow threatened
a difficult recitation. As a young woman in fashionable
society, she became as much excited over the choice of
a new bonnet, the manufacture of a pin-cushion, or the
promise of an evening party, as at the nearing prospect
of her marriage to the man she loved.
It was a curious, and then a diverting spectacle to
watch the tossing, gurgling waves of her everyday exist-
ence. Her best friends laughed, and loved her the better
for her impulsive, whole-souled ways. Strangers stared,
and new acquaintances criticised her "want of repose of
manner." Her friends love her dearly still, but admit,
reluctantly, that she tries their nerves by her restless-
ness, and that she is never altogether at her ease in any
circumstances. Impartial critics pronounce her "ec-
centric." When she sews, the silk whips hissingly
through the stuff, the needle heats in her fingers. Her
air in the street and in the large assemblies is that of a
startled bird making ready for flight. The pose of her
head is alert, her eyes are eager, her hands never still.
Intensely alive to external impressions, fluttering at
every word, she conveys to the beholder the idea that
her brain-surface is a prepared and highly sensitive
photographic plate. She is, all the while, taking “nega-
tives," instead of receiving, as do others, momentary
236
Eve's Daughters.
impressions-dissolving views-flitting before succeed-
ing ones, like reflections from a mirror.
"Things take such fast hold of me!" she laments;
and every hold is a bite.
As a girl, her swift darting from one subject to an-
other, her way of flashing abruptly into a quiet, hum-
drum conversation, with some naïvely-earnest query or
comment, were piquante, and likened by her admirers
to the motions of a humming-bird. She plunges, in-
stead of flitting, now—and hard-bruising herself often,
and sometimes, and most unintentionally, other people.
"She has lost tone." Such is her half-mirthful, half-
sad report of the verdict of five eminent physicians. To
restore tone, she has traveled by land and sea; been
screwed up by quassia, gentian, quinine, and porter.
She drinks milk and beef-tea, and has relinquished tea
and coffee as "rank poison." Five other doctors of
equal eminence recommend sedative measures, because
her nerves are too tensely strained. To lower them to
concert-pitch, she has swallowed "quarts," she assures
you, of valerian and hyoscyamos; walked herself into
exhaustion; gone to bed early every night and regularly
laid awake until daybreak. When, by some happy ac-
cident she sleeps four hours a night, she is so elated,
according to her showing, that she is tempted to send
the news to the Associated Press as "An Item of Sin-
gular and Interesting Information." She is not cross;
American Worry.
237
*
she is too sweet and sound at heart for that, but she is
"worried" to an extent that no language or figure of
speech can describe. "She can do nothing by halves,"
say her affectionate apologists.
It is sadly true. Not even suicide.
passage
A friend found her in tears one day over this
in "Elsie Venner,"- a passage we marvel at as we read
and recollect that it was written by a man :
"She has so many varieties of headaches,-some-
times as if Jael were driving the nail that killed Sisera
into her temples,—sometimes letting her work with
half her brain, while the other half throbs as if it would
go to pieces,—sometimes tightening around the brows
as if her cap-band were a ring of iron,—and then her
neuralgias and her back-aches, and her fits of depres-
sion, in which she thinks she is nothing and less than
nothing,—and those paroxysms of which men speak
slightingly as hysterical,-convulsions, that is all, only
not commonly fatal ones, so many trials which belong
to her fine and mobile structure,-that she is always en-
titled to pity when she is placed in conditions which
develop her nervous tendencies."
I know it all-all!" sobbed the poor rich woman.
“If I am not mercifully relieved soon of this wretched
life I shall end my days in a lunatic asylum."
It is not headache that makes her nervous, but nerv-
ous worry that gives her headache. This is not Wear,
238
Eve's Daughters.
but Waste, and Waste at its wicked worst. For she
has nothing to show for the ruinous expenditure of vi-
tal force, excepting the burnt-out ashes of a life that
might have been rarely blessed. An amount of energy
that might have wrought the redemption of a pagan
continent has been squandered on the commonest triv-
ialities of a commonplace career. She is impoverished
and no one else the richer. With a heart aching with
longing to make others happy, she renders those dear-
est to her miserable.
As a pendant to this portrait, let me give a sketch of
one who was the valued associate of my early life; a
woman of strong will, shrewd intelligence, and remark-
able executive ability. Her husband was a successful
city merchant, an amiable gentleman and a fair finan-
cier, but one whose talents were particularly adapted to
the straight, beaten track of business transactions.
Without being dull-witted, he was not ready of expe-
dient; needed timely notice when a change of course.
was necessary. I may add, to his credit, that he was
never slow in awarding to his wife due praise for the
assistance she had given him from their marriage-day
in the conduct of his affairs. It was a habit of long
standing with him to bring home to her every evening
a full report of the day's operations, to consult her be-
fore embarking in a new enterprise, and trust to her ad-
vice when his own judgment was at fault.
American Worry.
239
They had been married twenty years when the panic
of 1857 fell like a black frost upon the country. Up to
this date the difference in temperament and method
of work between husband and wife had not told obvi-
ously upon either. He was easy-tempered, hopeful,
quick to rebound from pressure, with a frank laugh and
merry word when the day was at the darkest. The
wife's was probably the stronger nature of the two,
since in all these years the double burden of his mer-
cantile cares and her own duties as housekeeper and
mother had not sufficed to wear her out. Her hair had
grown quite gray; there were pain-lines between her
brows; her lips were thinner and smiled less readily
than of old; but her alert carriage and sententious, in-
cisive speech were utterly opposed to the generally re-
ceived ideal of a broken-down woman. She rallied
with prompt energy to meet the exigencies of the
"hard times." In her home her economies were in-
geniously contrived not to lessen family comfort, yet
bore severely upon herself. She cut and made her own
and her children's dresses, besides doing all their plain
sewing; dismissed the laundress and undertook the fine
ironing herself. And while she wrought with her hands,
her mind was incessantly intent upon the growing
complications of her husband's affairs; her invention
racked to devise ways and means of averting threat-
ened ruin.
240
Eve's Daughters.
Each evening the wedded pair held counsel over the
library-table littered with business-papers. When the
history of the transactions of the day and the liabilities
of the morrow was finished, the husband went to bed
and slept like an irresponsible hedger or ditcher. The
wife sat up late, reckoning and writing, and after she
sought her pillow, lay awake for hours, gathering from
the throbbing darkness about her inspiration and prac-
tical suggestion. While her husband was shaving next
morning, she would give him a clear digest of plan and
enterprise. His hand never trembled while he list-
ened; his sanguine complexion did not vary by a
shade. He had perfect confidence in her as a woman
of genius and judgment. After a hearty breakfast he
would kiss her "good-morning," toss the baby into the
air with a laugh and shout, and go off down-town cool
and strong for the conflict of the day. He battled vic-
toriously. His firm escaped disaster, and he brought
out of the fight two years later health of body and se-
renity of mind; was so slightly worsted by the trial as
to excite the wondering admiration of his friends. His
wife, on the other hand, had lost color, these observed,
-was "ageing fast." She was sharp of eye too and of
speech. People began to dread her caustic criticisms
and repartee, and to call her an uncomfortable woman
to deal with. Her servants considered her a "driving
mistress"; her children wished that she were "as sym-
American Worry.
241
pathizing as Papa," and that she "would not make such
a serious business of life."
Yet so deep was the respect of the community for her
as a high-minded, sterling woman, that it was a griev-
ous shock to all when she dropped dead one morning
just as her husband took the youngest child from her
knee for the accustomed after-breakfast romp.
"Disease of the heart!" said the certificate of burial.
None thought of denying her room in consecrated
ground. For all that, she was a suicide.
What is the remedy for the nerve-waste, the abnormal
or violent metamorphosis of tissue that comes of Worry;
from the fearful looking-forward of impatient woman-
kind?
I answer, first, self-control-learned most easily in
youth. Hold imagination in check and compel your-
self, while you work, to think only of the business in
hand, the appointed tale of bricks for the day. Enjoy,
in like singleness of mind, the pleasures belonging to
each hour and season. Cultivate an eye for lights
rather than for shadows. Do not despise the small
fruits of spring-time in longing for peaches and nectar-
ines. That you are alive and moderately comfortable
this day is an earnest of sufficient grace for the next,
for this is the dreaded to-morrow of yesterday. Make
the best of the Present. The poet bids you “Enjoy
it. It is thine." It, at least, will never return to be
242
Eve's Daughters.
righted or to be delighted in. That time and care are
thrown away that are spent on a Future that may
never be.
"S'pose," said one small boy to another, as they
stood under a tree, on the upper boughs of which hung
a few tempting pippins, "S'pose I was to climb up
there, and a limb was to break, or my foot was to slip,
or there was a snake in that hollow, or maybe a hornet's
nest, or a lizard—”
"No s'pose!" shouted his comrade, and went up the
tree like a cat.
Nobody doubts who got the fruit.
Some men do borrow trouble habitually. No prac-
tice is discontinued with greater difficulty when it has
once been formed. But it is the timid or melancholy
man who plods the miry lanes leading to the Slough of
Despond, and is too much in fear of the lions to go
near enough to perceive their chains. Women of all
ages and temperaments negotiate for trouble at com-
pound interest, and a majority pay both the bond-
money and the pound of flesh.
The catholicon of mortal ills, the specific beyond all
other offered remedies for mental excitation, for the
chafing and worrying and fearing that are a deadlier
drain upon the nerve-centres than any degree of intel-
lectual application, is a calm trust in the wisdom and
tenderness of Our Heavenly Father.
American Worry.
243
One last extract from Dr. Beard. He supports by
statistical evidence these propositions:
"Ist. That the brain-working classes-clergymen,
lawyers, physicians, merchants, scientists, and men of
letters-live much longer than muscle-working classes.
"2d. That those who followed occupations that
called both muscle and brain into exercise were longer-
lived than those who lived in occupations that were
purely manual.
"3d. That the greatest and hardest brain-workers of
history have lived longer, on the average, than brain-
workers of ordinary ability and industry.
"4th. That clergymen are longer-lived than any
other great class of brain-workers."
This last remarkable fact he explains after this fash-
ion:
"1. Their calling admits of a wide variety of toil.
“2. Comparative freedom from financial anxiety.
"3. Their superior mental endowments.
(6
4. Their superior temperance and morality."
These reasons for the longevity of a class of the busi-
est men in our country he supports with more or less
pertinence. Without staying to question any or all
of these hypotheses, I would suggest an explanation of
the fact, drawn from a somewhat extensive and very
intimate acquaintanceship with the profession, at least,
in what is styled "the great Presbyterian family," em-
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Eve's Daughters.
bracing the Presbyterian, Reformed Dutch, and Con-
gregational denominations.
As a rule (the exceptions of which I do not deny),
these men trust themselves and the interests dearest to
them to a higher and an infinitely wise Power, asking
continually to be controlled by a Friend to Whom mis-
takes are impossible, Whose love is limitless, and His
compassion sure. The aching head may well cease to
throb when laid upon that softest pillow for human
pain, "GOD knows." The sleep that falls like heavenly
dew to the music of the lullaby, "All things work
together for good unto them that love GOD," and,
"Fear not! I am with thee," brings strength and re-
newal of youth with balm for present ills.
Your "shadowy Future," dear child, is definite and
distinct to Him. Whatever of seeming disaster it may
hold for you, be assured that it is only in seeming; that
His purposes toward you must, from the necessities of
His own nature, be all love and goodness. Be patient,
yet hopeful, in awaiting the development of His will.
"Do the duty that lieth nearest thy hand that thou
knowest to be a duty. The second duty will already
have become clearer," is a sovereign motto at your
age.
If "The will of the Lord be done" is a hard saying
for young hearts to frame and girlish lips to utter, it is
American Worry.
245
yet easier for you than for your elders to believe and
say: "On THEE do I wait all the day!" You are so used
to the care and guidance of superiors that trustfulness
is the natural attitude of your heart. You can lean
with your whole weight upon the Almighty Arm, if
you can not resign or remit the hopes that are your
earthly treasure.
Keep, then, your heart steady in its rest upon the
GOD of the falling sparrow, and the unfledged ravens,
and you need not fear to do with your might whatso-
ever your hand-and your head-find to do.
I write thus plainly of the Christian's faith, because
I hold, as to the hope of my soul's salvation, to the be-
lief that, while a man may fight Life's battle with ap-
parent success without religion, trust in an overruling
Providence and a world to come is absolutely essential
to a woman's happiness and usefulness. It is to her the
only key to the mysteries of her nature; the only ex-
planation of the fact that she is at all. Her capacity for
love and for sorrow; the myriad ills contingent upon
possible irregularities in her complex physique; the
dreamy seclusion of domestic life; the helplessness and
hopelessness of unfortunate marriages-all these de-
mand, for the mere present endurance of their weight,
something more tender than philosophy, stronger than
stoicism. It was not in comparative speech that the
246
Eve's Daughters.
Master said of Mary-gentle and loving, yet with a
thirst for the highest and best knowledge-the "real
things" of life present and life eternal-that made her
oblivious of temporal cares :—
"But one thing is needful. She hath chosen the good
part which shall not be taken away from her."


CHAPTER XIV.
WHAT THEN?
<
"It is an admitted principle in all systems of Education,' said the
Professor, plaintively, to his sister, that some concession shall be
made to the molds of individuality. In point of fact, all theories cool
off in such molds at last.'"-ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS, "Story of
Avis."

I
N the college catalogues which we have ex-
amined together, I observe, set down among
the studies appointed for each year or semes-
ter, a list of "Electives." You can take up
one or more of these or leave all alone, as inclination
or convenience may prompt. Your action in either
case is regulated by your sense of the expediency of un-
derstanding something of this or that branch, as you
may foresee the needs of the ordinary life of girl and
woman, or by your desire to use it in making for your-
self a career somewhat different from that of your fel-
lows.
There is nothing in the letter or spirit of the preced-
248
Eve's Daughters.
ing chapter that condemns the healthy ambition to ex-
cel in a special branch, or to win the prize for general
excellence of scholarship. These are most safely, if not
surely attained by steady, systematic application to the
specific work of the hour-that is, by doing well one
thing at a time. He who would drive a straight furrow
across the field, fixes his eye upon a definite point, and
makes for it with hand and foot. Giving to our meta-
phor a larger meaning, we may add that she who shapes
all the study of her scholastic course in accordance with
a definite purpose, will achieve something better and
stronger than she who lays stones idly, or who alters
her plans from day to day. One reason of the want of
thoroughness in women's education is, unquestionably,
the purposeless way in which it is conducted. The best
aim of the best scholar is, usually, to stand well in
classes, and in the fullness of time to be graduated with
distinction. About once a year you happen upon one
who loves study for its own sake; who is avid in accu-
mulation and faithful in keeping all she has gained.
The rank and file of the class "don't mind study. In
fact they rather like it, and find school great fun" as a
whole. But when honest and outspoken under pressure,
they would avow that in heart, if not in voice, they
echo Christopher Sly's praise of the play:
"An excellent piece of work, Madam Lady!
Would it were done!"
What Then?
249
Let us suppose that it is done; the last Examination
passed, the honors awarded.
What then?
Your brother and his college-mates tell you that their
work has hardly begun with the receipt of diploma and
degree. Commencement-Day with them signifies the
first step in the real career-the unclosing and flinging
wide the gate revealing the highway of Life. They
have accomplished little beyond buckling on the har-
ness, getting it fairly adjusted, and testing its supple-
ness and strength. So far as the confirmed habit and
manner of study; the conscience for prescribed tasks
and continued acquisition go, you deliberately undo the
fastenings of your armor, take it off and toss it into a
corner of the lumber-room to gather dust and verdigris
for the rest of your life unless an unforeseen reverse of
fortune should force you to resume it. The mental dis-
cipline of home is so lax by comparison with that of
school, that you scarcely feel it. But for the excite-
ment of receiving and paying calls, attending parties,
concerts, operas, and other public entertainments, the
multitudinous and multifarious engagements known in
their collective form as "Society," you would be bored
to extremest ennui by a surplusage of unemployed time.
For a year or two your new pursuits will not pall upon
even an intellectual palate. After perhaps three sea-
sons, you will begin to see things as they are, and your-
II*
250
Eve's Daughters.
self with a life left on your hands, with the problem,
"What to Do With It?" staring you in the eyes.
It is pitiable and instructive to busy people, to see
the varieties of behavior in women who recognize the
reality of this situation and seek to overcome its irk-
someness. Their manoeuvers are oddly like the whistle
of the boy passing over a lonely common in the dusk
of evening, who is not certain of his bearings, yet dare
not waste time in retracing his steps. Our maturing
maidens will not look behind them, for fear of trooping
phantoms of dead hopes and joys that perished with
the possession. Before lies a misty land of shadows.
They are not frightened by the pale grayness of the
time; only chilled at heart and anxious to disprove
to themselves that they are forlorn and astray.
The majority and the most respectable of them begin
to dabble industriously in something, it matters little
what it is, so long as time and thoughts are engaged.
A catalogue of the hundreds of species of what is
known as "fancy-work," to which this century alone
has given birth, would show better than fifty formal.
treatises, the prevalence of this dabbling, and the com-
mercial ingenuity with which the desire has been fed.
Crocheting, tatting, wax-work, paper flowers, mono-
chromatics, decalcomanie, panel and plaque-painting in
oil, mineral and water-colors, on silk, china and board,
Kensington and outline embroidery,-time and mem-
What Then?
251
ory would fail me, and patience desert my readers,
were I to prolong the inventory. Such, and a thousand
other inventions of play which is work, and work which
is play, are put forward in a fast succession of cheats to
answer our question-"What then?"
"I suppose you've gone on having clubs every winter,
just as we did when we were girls?" says the heroine
to Coy in Miss Phelps's "Story of Avis."
Just the same," said Coy, "as we did when you
were at home six years ago. You know how it is with
people; some take to zoology, and some take to re-
ligion. That's the way it is with places. It may be
the Lancers and it may be prayer-meetings. Once I
went to see my grandmother in the country, and every-
body had a candy-pull. There were twenty-five candy-
pulls and taffy-bakes in that town that winter. John
Rose says in the Connecticut Valley where he came.
from, it was missionary-barrels; and I heard of a place
where it was cold coffee. In Harmouth, it's improving
your mind.
"The amount I've read these last four years! It
positively makes my head swim to think of the titles
of the books.
"And so we have the clubs. Sometimes, it's old
poets served hot, and sometimes it's plain history cut
cold, and it may be a hash of the fine arts, or even a
ragout of well-spiced science. One winter, it was polit-
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Eve's Daughters.
ical economy. I had my first gray hairs that winter.
But the season we took the positive philosophy, they
thought I was going into a decline.”
We laugh at the witty summary, but there is more
than one nerve ajar while we do it. It is all so aimless
and pitiful! For-let it be noted-women do not use
their literary and scientific and fine-art clubs as men do
theirs, as an evening's relaxation from severe work, but
as a means of employing minds that are rusting, and
time that is an incubus upon the spirits. Nor do they
all really enjoy the farce. Coy tells the truth when she
confesses sighingly :—
"It comes hard on me! Improving your mind is as
bad as old poetry."
(This in reference to the Chaucer and Spenser Clubs.)
Desultory reading and study--even a diet of well-
spiced science-will, at the best, only whet the appetite
for regular meals of more substantial food. It is far
more likely to solace the intellectual conscience of the
many who care little for such pabulum, but covet the
semblance of "improving the mind." It is neither
natural nor desirable for a whole community of women
to have tastes precisely similar. I know an accom-
plished scientist who never read a dozen pages of
Longfellow or Whittier, and a true poet whose mathe-
matical lore would disgrace a public-school lad of twelve.
The most sagacious instructors and parents are liable
What Then?
253
to overrate the importance of "keeping up" certain
branches of technical education. Much of the curric-
ulum of the college answers exactly the same purpose
with the mind that the use of salt and alum does in the
manufacture of green pickles. Brine and astringent
harden and color the texture of the gherkin or citron-
rind steeped in an infusion of these substances for a
certain time. When firmness and the proper degree of
greenness are gained, the housewife sets about soaking
out all taste of the salts, that she may impart to the
prepared article its specific and agreeable flavor by the
means of sugar, vinegar and spices.
This homely illustration expresses the difference be-
tween the action of general education in molding the
mind and interpenetrating it with an aptitude for the
reception of knowledge, and the province of that spe-
cialty which the Creator has designed for individual ap-
propriation. At least one-half of the learning of the
school ought to be soaked out and thrown away, yet
as preliminary and formative, it can not be dispensed
with.
Life is no more earnest nor the meaning of your own
personal existence more clear on the morning succeed-
ing the club-meeting than before. Except for the oc-
cupation of the evening, and a faint sense of satisfaction
at having been profitably (?) employed, you might as
well have gone to bed at eight o'clock, or danced until
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Eve's Daughters.
midnight with the same "everlasting set" of partners.
Nor do the glittering generalities of benevolence and
the development of the Divinity of Humanity content
the practical woman who wants work and a sphere.
We have in days gone by cast much ridicule upon that
last word, and the craving which prompts its use in the
mouths of many, in the hidden thoughts of more,
women who should be honored, not despised. In this
we cruelly and coarsely misinterpret a desire and its ex-
pression which is not a characteristic of a commonplace
soul.
The women who ask for some specific employment
and room in which to ply their vocation are usually
those who are fitted by nature and education for some-
thing immeasurably better than taffy-bakes and a hash
of the fine-arts. Centuries of superficial training have
done their work upon the masses of our sex. Thou-
sands find the gratification of every reasonable-I do
not say rational-desire in a couple of seasons of belle-
ship and a suitable marriage. Almost as many testify
to their individuality mainly by irrational caprices and
the obstinacy which is the stronghold of fools.
I know an excellent clergyman who, without the re-
motest intention of saying aught offensive to the mean-
est and lowest of his hearers, has a habit of describing
the acme of weakness in argument or absurdity of be-
lief by declaring from a metropolitan pulpit that the
What Then?
255
contemned proof or tenet is "only fit for women and
children." This, with his wife who is not a simpleton,
gazing up with admiring eyes from the pastor's pew.
He may not voice the sentiment of his Guild; nor,
were this the case, need we be over-ready to resent a
classification our sex has so long and so far authorized.
Do we not prove ourselves to be children when we
learn lessons set by others, without reflection as to the
end to be subserved by study? When we catch our
complexion of thought and opinion upon philosophy,
religion—even morals—from the man we love, or in de-
fault of his existence, from our nearest masculine neigh-
bor? When our tempers are abraded by petty rivalries,
our energies exhausted upon puerile pursuits? When
the standard of wifely and daughterly perfection is so
nearly met by the old nursery couplet,—
"Come when you're called, go when you're bid,
Shut the door after you, and you'll never be chid,"-
that we can not smile, while we feebly protest?
Do not imagine that I, your true well-wisher, would
have you indifferent to the claims and delights of So-
ciety. It has a right to demand a share in your day
and thoughts. The pleasantest—and sometimes an ef-
fectual-way of making people better is by making
them happier. If you can elevate the tone of your lit-
tle circle while enlivening it, you need not account the
256
Eve's Daughters.
.
time misspent which you have given to cheerful con-
verse, or in the amusements you ought to have at your
age.
"My dear," wrote a mother to her daughter who was
absent from home on a pleasure-visit, "you may be an
angel some day. You can be young but once in a life-
time. Therefore, be as happy as you can."
It is when recreation degenerates into a task that it
loses its efficacy. A task and an onerous one it must
become when it is the grand object of daily life. The
most useless, and frequently the most pitiable product
of modern civilization is the Society Girl, bound to a
wheel that whirls through a stated round of calls, recep-
tions, balls, and general show-places for full-dressed men
and women—each season changing the place, but keep-
ing the pain, when winter sports are exchanged for sum-
mer dissipation. It is inevitable that her spirits should
flag, and spontaneous gayety give place to the facti-
tious mannerisms nobody mistakes for the “genuine
article."
In spite of all the sneering flings at the chase for hus-
bands and pulling caps for beaux, in which refined con-
tests satirists would have us believe all actual or would-
be belles are engaged while flying on this dizzying cir-
cle, sober judges of human nature and women's ways
comprehend that no pure-hearted girl has any defined
purpose of conquest in her coquettish wiles. She sim-
What Then?
257
ply wants to "have a good time," and enjoys it as art-
lessly as do butterflies a waltz in the sunshine. It is not
until the sun has dried the freshness in the morning air,
and she is weary of the monotony of frivolity, that she
begins to hearken to the talk of match-making dow-
agers and uncharitable gossips as to the propriety of
settling down before she gets to be an old story. She
has had her fling, say her seniors. Roses wilt fast in
ball-rooms, and she has been "out" five seasons, she is
reminded in a friendly way. If she does not leave So-
ciety, Society will leave her. No woman can be Some-
body in the world's eye for half a dozen years. And the
only honorable extinguisher of belleship is Wedlock.
By and by, my bright-eyed girl, I shall, GOD willing,
tell you what are my views of the Real Marriage. For
the present, suffice it to say that it is not to crouch so
meekly in the shadow of a husband that even the out-
lines of your separate personality are swallowed up—
obliterated by his magnificent penumbra. Remember
the warning quoted a while ago:-
"Bear in mind that you are, first of all, human beings,
and then, secondly, women."
To follow Miss Cobbe a step further:
((
'Laugh at the doctrine that you are a sort of moon,
with no raison d'être but to go circling round and round
a very earthy planet, or a kind of parasite, ivy, or honey-
suckle in the forest. You may be, you probably are,
258
Eve's Daughters.
less strong, less clever, less rich, and less well-educated
than most of the men around you; but you are a
rational free agent, a child of GOD, destined to grow
nearer to Him and more like Him through the ages of
your immortality."
Do you ask me at this point, with the unconquered
impatience of our sex: "What is the lesson of To-day,
drawn from the foregoing Talk?"
I answer broadly: Choose now a special line of
study and of thought, bearing directly upon whatever
profession, trade or avocation you may select as the
business of your life. Choose Something to Do, and
do it!
Thirty years back this injunction would have meant
to a young woman, reputably-born and in moderate
circumstances, "Prepare yourself to become a govern-
ess or the principal of a school." Now-what may it
not signify and include? If we would know how times.
have changed, and we with them, let us survey for a
moment the fallen and disintegrating boundary-walls
that, forty years agone, were so many moral and social
Quebecs in resisting the incursion of women upon the
territory deeded by Nature, Providence, Tradition, and
Public Opinion (thus were we taught), as a gift in per-
petuity to the stronger part of mankind. I can remem-
ber when a girl had to defy the censure and ridicule of
her schoolfellows and the as certain distrust of "the
What Then?
259
gentlemen," if she were bent upon studying Latin.
Euclid was banned as likely to give a masculine turn to
the mind. Within twenty-five years I have heard a
celebrated Doctor of Divinity say that he had never
been able to see what use women had for sense, and
seen a roomful of refined listeners convulsed with
merriment at his description of a visit he had paid to
the house of a literary woman, where he was "in mortal
dread all the time of getting a syllogism crosswise in
his throat, or of swallowing a logarithm with his soup.
Hebrew puddings and Greek pies were," he confessed,
"not to his taste, nor adapted to his digestion."
All this, while it is the paltriest clap-trap prejudice,
showed the direction of popular opinion. Nobody but
an imbruted ignoramus now seriously impugns the
right of women to round, even development of intellect,
as well as of the affections. There is set before you an
open door, and no man can shut it. Whether you will
enter or not rests with yourself.
Whatever may be the stability of the provision made
for daughters, single and married, in other countries, the
terrible fluctuation of American fortunes is a continuous
object-lesson, enforcing the need of preparedness in the
women themselves to meet reverses and override
poverty. If the washerwoman's daughter of To-day
will ride next week in her carriage, diamonds on the
fingers hardly dry from the suds—the millionaire's child,
260
Eve's Daughters.
satin-wadded from her birth to avert the contact of
everything common and unclean, may, by one twist of
the wheel, be driven to earn her bread by the penny's-
worth before she is thirty years of age. The vicissitudes
of the happier middle-class, if not as violent, are well-nigh
as frequent as the changes that befall those in the higher
and lower walks of life. When the small merchant, or
farmer, or mechanic is overtaken by the storm of ad-
versity, his boys, as a rule, land on their feet. They
have been educated in the expectation of earning their
livelihood, and the means-be it brain-culture or manual
skill-by which to achieve this have been given to
them. The daughters, as a yet more general rule, are,
to put it strongly, half-taught to do nothing. They
have had a certain number of years' schooling; can
strum a few pieces on the piano, write a fair hand,
maybe "do" a little in crayons or oils, and dote upon
fancy-work. Besides these they have no capabilities
beyond those of a common housemaid.
. In pursuance of our plan of drawing arguments from
facts, and our illustrations from real life, let me give a
specimen sketch of the class I have depicted.
A young girl came to me during the term of my
managership in a Board of Employment for Women, in
search of a situation. She was nineteen; comely,
healthy, and talked with modest propriety of language
and demeanor. Her story was a sad, but by no means
What Then?
261
an uncommon one. Her mother had married a second
husband when this girl was six years old. The
step-father would not be bothered with the child, and
she was adopted by her grandfather. In his farm-house
she was a pet and a favorite, received a tolerably good
education at the district school, with three years'
tuition in piano-music. She helped a maiden aunt
with light housework, learned to sew neatly, and to
embroider in crewels; went to singing school, and spent
all her spare hours in reading—“loving books,” as she
told me, "better than anything else in the world."
Six weeks before she called on me, her grandfather
had died suddenly and intestate. His little property
was claimed by his sons and daughters, none of whom
had room in house or heart for the granddaughter.
The homeless child was returned to her mother. The
step-father, a hard, avaricious man, was not bashful in
informing her that she was old enough to shift for her-
self, and must not expect to eat the bread of charity.
At the end of a fortnight she must go out into the
world.
This was the tale, confirmed by a letter from the
pastor of the country church where the old farmer had
worshipped for sixty odd years, and in the shadow of
which he lay buried. The grandchild related it simply
and with no show of resentment at her step-father's un-
kindness.
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Eve's Daughters.
(6
I am willing to do any kind of honest work,"
she concluded; "I would rather starve than be de-
pendent."
'What can you do?" I inquired.
“I might manage a little school," was the reply. “I
am fond of children, and get along nicely with them.
I am sure I could teach them, provided they were not
too far advanced. I understand arithmetic quite well,
up to fractions.”
"There is a small school upon every other block in
this town," I said, doubtfully; "and most of them are
taught by women who have had experience in the busi-
ness; who can carry scholars very far beyond fractions.
You can sew well, you tell me. Can you also cut and
fit? Do you know anything about dressmaking? A
good dressmaker can always get plenty of work."
"No, ma'am. My aunt used to cut out everything,
even my underclothes, for me, and we had a dressmaker
in the house every spring and fall."
"I might get you a place as saleswoman in a store,"
I mused, "if you were quick at figures; or, as appren-
tice to a milliner or dressmaker; but you would receive
nothing for, perhaps, three months, or so small a sum
that it would not pay your board. A factory life is
hardly what I should choose for you," glancing at the
delicate features and the slight figure so lady-like in its
cheap mourning, "and would bring you in very little
What Then?
263
until you became expert at the work. Then, too, the
associations are rough and disagreeable."
(6
Yes, ma'am! I know," said the girl, meekly.
She was drooping like a cut house-plant in the in-
clement atmosphere into which she had been thrown.
The sleet rattled against the windows in the intervals
of our dialogue. My heart bled for her, so young-and
the world was so wide and bleak! A happy thought
struck me. I offered my ultimatum in a livelier tone:
"You can not do better than to take a place in a
family," I proposed. "I know of one where just such
a person is needed. The husband is a mechanic, earn-
ing excellent wages, and living comfortably in a small
house on the outskirts of the city. The young wife.
applied at our Bureau yesterday for some one who
would be willing to assist her in general housework
and look after a year-old baby. Her "help" would be
treated quite as an equal, and have it in her power to
make valuable friends and secure a permanent home.
You would be very safe there, and I hope, satisfied."
The child burst into tears.
((
Oh, madam! don't ask me to do anything menial!
I was brought up so differently that the mortification
would break my heart."
Yet she was fit for nothing else. Starvation was the
alternative of household service.
Did you, my much better educated Mary, ever ask
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Eve's Daughters.
།
yourself with what capital you would begin business?
In more direct terms, if you were thrown upon your
own resources, how could you get your living? The
necessity for doing this seldom comes so gradually that,
foreseeing it afar off, you will have time to gather up
your forces and deploy them for action in the field.
Financial disasters in our country are earthquakes of
volcanic origin, bringing upheaval with overthrow; not
the gradual settling of insecure foundations in which
the advance of ruin is marked by cracked walls and
sinking floors, signs that warn the wise to flee from the
doomed dwelling. Like my unfortunate country girl,
you would not be ashamed to work, but you must first
know what to do, and how to set about it. Apprentices
are not self-supporting, nor is apprenticeship easy when
the habit of learning has fallen into desuetude. The
busy can always get business to do. He who is inde-
pendent of others' assistance will find that others de-
pend upon him. It is a shrewd saying that nothing
else is so successful as success. So nothing else is
more impotent than impotency. The attractive power
fails with the lack of cohesion, the one implying the
other. There is a natural gravitation of work, which is
power, into strong and able hands.
Youth is emphatically the time for acquisition, for
the "learning how." Memory is unjaded, energies san-
guine. Four decades must elapse before you bethink
What Then?
265
yourself of fear of that which is high. Now, height is
temptation and difficulty a spur. You are contemptu-
ous of the brother who completes his senior year with-
out deciding upon a profession; ask intolerantly how
he knows what tools to select and how to use them un-
less he is certain in what walk of life his path will lie
and what will be his pursuit. To your ardent imagina-
tion that word "pursuit" is expressive. His "walk"
would be with you, a run-if you were pressed or dis-
tanced, a race. You suspect indolence or a want of
balance in one who "has not thought very much about
the matter," and opines, ten days before Commence-
ment, that "there is no especial need for haste in mak-
ing up a fellow's mind."
Your career is mapped out for you by Sex and Cir-
cumstance, you suppose, when you take your future into
thoughtful consideration. For two, maybe three, pos-
sibly four years-you do hope it will not be five or six!
you will live at home, and be happy all day long, with
Mamma as matron, chaperone and confidante, and Papa
as banker. Then-Prince Charming will settle the re-
maining twenty or forty years of your temporal exist-
ence as suits his royal will. Trusting him in advance,
you doubt not that he will combine the best disposi-
tions and deeds of father and mother. You will love
him very dearly, and he will suffer you to want for
nothing. If Common Sense hints that even princes and
266
Eve's Daughters.
predestined husbands have died and left widows weight-
ed by helpless orphans; and suggesting this seriously
reminds you that putting off the answer to my "What
Then?" ten or a dozen years does not get the query
out of the way, the gay confidence of your age comes
to your aid. All the "other girls" live as you are
doing. If you and they are laying up nothing available
against a rainy day, your improvidence is sanctioned by
custom and truest friends. You will pull through in
some way. You have always managed to get along.
That is, others have managed you, and for you.


CHAPTER XV.
CALLED.
"GOD bends from out the deep, and says,
'I gave thee the great gift of Life;
Wast thou not called in many ways?
Are not my earth and heaven at strife?
I gave thee of my seed to sow,
Bringest thou me my hundredfold?'
Can I look up with face aglow,
And answer, 'Father, here is gold?"
-JAMES RUSSELL Lowell.

E have brought forward and discussed but one,
and that, perhaps, the least worthy of the
considerations that urge the choice of a spe-
W
cific calling for you at this juncture of your
academic course-viz, the propriety of casting an anchor
to windward in the rough waters of life, in the shape of
a provision for your temporal needs. I propose in this
chapter to treat of other and nobler aspects of the same.
duty; of occasions and obligations that are immutable
and in no wise contingent upon change of place and
fortune.
268
Eve's Daughters.
Just as surely as not one of the million leaves in the
forest is an exact duplicate of another, as no human face
or character is a reproduction of any that GOD has made
in all the ages past, or will create in the cycles yet to be
born-just so surely and truly have you a work to per-
form in the world, intended for you to do, and for no one
else. You are "called." You bear the King's commis-
sion, and by the very circumstance of your enrolment
among the living, have given bonds for the faithful dis-
charge of the duties assigned you. In this marching
host there are no paid substitutes, and desertion is high
treason.
It is a favorite among other flippant sayings of those
who class women with children in intellectual responsi-
bility, that we can not, as a sex, grasp cardinal principles.
That our food-mental and spiritual-must be divided
into bits convenient for us and laid, trimmed and sea-
soned, upon our plates. That we have a habit in dis-
cussing a broad general topic, of descending to person-
alities. That, as logicians, we force conclusions and
assume deductions in a style highly confusing and exas-
perating to the manly mind. It is hardly consistent
with belief in these feminine idiosyncrasies that our
healthy craving for work of a kind and quantity appor-
tioned to our tastes and energies; the desire to be
something better than decimal points in the solemn
sum to be cast up at the close of our day, should be
7
Called.
269
diagnosticated as a fever-whim, and treated with the
sedative powders of general utility maxims.
"Be good and you will be happy," is a draught ready
for use at any time; and in all states of the system, it
should be well-shaken and taken three times a day.
"Happier, happier far than thou,
With the laurel on thy brow,
She that makes the humblest hearth
Lovely to but one on earth,”
is a patent pill for splenetic affections, mental anæmia,
and plethora, lowness of spirits consequent upon per-
sonal insignificance and for unwholesome ambitions.
No family should be without it.
-un-
Mrs. Hemans wrote "Corinne at the Capitol
happy woman! at the very time when she was drawing
from the exercise of her poetic talent solace for out-
raged affection, and substantial support in pounds, shil-
lings and pence for herself and the boys abandoned by
the husband and father.
Foreseeing the probability that I shall be misrepre-
sented on this point, I would state here in unequivocal
terms, my belief that there is enough in the sphere of
wife and mother, properly filled-to satisfy the heart
and mind of every reasonable woman. When the
pregnant truth of the brace of italicized words is com-
prehended by all who enter upon these offices, Woman
will have come into her Kingdom, and the Kingdom
270
Eve's Daughters.
of Heaven be nigh, even at our doors. To be her hus-
band's "help," she must also be his "mate," strong in
counsel as in sympathy, fit to work with and for him
as well as to cheer his despondency and salve his
bruises. While the mother cherishes, she must lead;
must be herself the model for the copyist she directs.
To effect these ends she requires the perfection of
physical, intellectual and moral sanity.
Therefore and I beg your attention to this se-
quence she who is best qualified to do her duty to
herself and her kind, in whom thought and impulse are
healthfully disciplined, energies rightly-directed and
strengthened by exercise, will fill the responsible post
of wife and mother better than she whose spinster-life
may be symbolized by the gyrations of a dragon-fly,
her conversation by an exclamation-point, and all she
has done to elevate or make happier her race, by a
cipher. The girl who has no force of character, but is
the embodiment of amiability, will degenerate into in-
sipidity or sharpen into vinegary peevishness with time.
The best that can be expected of the material is that it
may ripen with matronhood into such saccharine flat-
ness as makes the parsnip an unpopular esculent. The
most desirable combination for the married woman is
also the best for the single,-to wit, the union of a
generous temper with marked individuality, a warm
heart and thorough conscientiousness.
Called.
271
You are called, then, first, to make the best of your-
self, by given means;-secondly, to determine by what
path you are to attain this and the good of others, and
having discovered it, to walk therein.
There are more reasons for the press of women who
are obliged to earn their livelihood, into the profession
of teaching than the one usually assigned and accepted,
—namely, that it is an eminently respectable occupa-
tion and involves little physical drudgery. It is the
nature of a being of the mother-sex to gather together
and into her.care, to brood over and to instruct creat-
ures younger and feebler than herself. The most satis-
factory substitute for a family of her very own, is a
school where this instinct can be brought into partial
play. She likes the crowding about her knees of child-
ish forms, the touch and clinging of little hands; the
echo of her sayings in the thrilling treble of young
voices. It is a comfort to the lonely-hearted to know
that she is looked up to and believed in, and a pure
joy to be asked for that which she has to give. In
leading the lambs of the flock, she is herself led by
Holy Mother Nature. Furthermore, by virtue of her
gentler sympathies, she remembers as men seldom do,
the painfulness and exact succession of the steps by
which she gained such knowledge as she can boast, and
is merciful to the small feet now treading them. She
272
Eve's Daughters.
is assiduous in removing stumbling-stones, lenient as to
slips and stumbles.
Admitting these almost universal qualifications of
sex for the teacher's work, it yet remains true that a
genuine talent for imparting instruction is far more
rare than we are disposed to imagine. It is one thing
to comprehend a principle or a subject in its entirety;
another, to be able to put either or both into intelligent
practice,—a third and far more arduous undertaking to
convey knowledge and the right use of it to the mind
of another person, particularly if that mind is com-
paratively or wholly untrained. Unless you have this
gift, for a gift it is, and invaluable in its way,-do not
select teaching as your calling. Your business must be
a vocation, or you will be a pretender, most probably a
failure, however resolutely you may persist in it, when
everybody else has discovered your blunder.
It is always true to some extent that we are likely to
do well that which we like to do, and vice versa. When
you can yoke and drive Duty and Desire together there
is great gain in speed and in ease of progress.
But the field is vast, and the policy of cutting up
large plantations into small farms is rapidly growing
into favor in other sections and departments of civil-
ization than the South. With the increase in the num-
ber of colleges and of those seeking a share in the
Called.
273
advantages of a liberal education, comes the natural
division into "specialties."
"The electoral system which "-laments the Profes-
sor in "Avis,"" is in danger of becoming so threat-
ening to our Universities.'
Even he recognizes in it "an element of Justice."
Women are no longer merely teachers, or govern-
esses. They are eligible to "chairs" in Institutes and
Colleges, and have the right,—one which, by the way,
they seldom exercise of writing themselves down,
"Professors." This modification of ancient landmarks
heightens the expediency of shaping your electoral
course of preparation in the schools in accordance with
the original bent of your mind and tastes.
you
We will assume, for the sake of illustration, that
burrow among the roots of dead languages with the
zest of a truffle-dog. That test of the true linguist-
born, not made the disposition to think in the tongue
he is studying, the incorporation into the structure of
his own mind of its spirit and genius,-all this is to you
a matter of course. German is a delight, French a pas-
time, Italian a bagatelle. Yet in arithmetic, like my
homeless half-orphan, you could hardly teach up to
fractions. To your room-mate, the friend of your
adoption, who has had a part of your every thought for
two years, chalk, blackboard, and problem are what the
sight of the sword was to the disguised Achilles spin-
274
Eve's Daughters.
((
ning among the maidens. Music is the vital air of one
school-fellow, and mephitic vapor to another who cov-
ers the fly-leaves and margins of her text-books with
caricatures and vignettes; to whom every face is a
study" and curve and color are a living joy. There
is one girl in every large class who would willingly
write compositions for all the rest; another who is the
referee upon whatever pertains to literature, classical or
current; and still another, who devours historical tomes
until you fancy that she must be suffocated by the dust
of the ages.
These varieties and indications of taste are tokens of
her "calling" to each of you, to be noted heedfully and
consulted before your decision is made. So with the
aptitude in knotting ribbons and making up and over
bonnets and gowns, the "French touch" that have con-
stituted you the family milliner and dressmaker; the
sure and ready ear that would be invaluable in a tele-
graph operator; the lightning speed of finger-play
joined to quick apprehension requisite in the practice
of stenography; the correct eye and the "knack" for
household arrangement and decoration which might,
if cultivated, bring you into fashion and fortune as an
architect.
I have enumerated but a few of the avenues by which
women can reach the vantage-ground of self-support.
With advancing and deepening civilization the number
Called.
275
is augmented. The fostering of artistic tastes creates
a demand for products of ingenuity and skill which
were unheard of a quarter-century ago. Models for
advertising and holiday-cards, and the more dignified
etchings for illustrated books and periodicals; pat-
terns for wall-paper, friezes, dados, and carpets, the
catalogue is limitless until the bound of human caprice
is reached, the fertility of fashion exhausted.
You may never need to practice any trade or profes-
sion for the purpose of earning daily bread for yourself
and those dependent upon your exertions. It may-
I pray that it will be the lot of every girl who reads
these lines to dwell in a sheltered home, maintained
and protected by those who love her and esteem the care
of her a privilege. Nevertheless, father and husband
will sleep more soundly by night, and think the more
calmly of the last deep sleep for the knowledge that
daughter and wife will not be pauperized by the death
of the one bread-winner of the family.
With all that I have said, I have merely touched
upon the externalities of this subject in enlarging upon
the prudential measure of preparing for the worst while
hoping for the best, and designating some of the means
to this end. The subtler, more pervasive, and, in an
immense majority of cases, the paramount advantage
of selecting and mastering a profession, consist in the
cffect upon the woman herself.
276
Eve's Daughters.
Paradoxical as it may seem, popular sentiment has
decreed from time immemorial that it is at once our
business as frail, dependent segments of mankind, to
settle ourselves in marriage, and our reproach that we
seek, to the utmost of our ability, to compass this pur-
pose of our creation.
"Anxious and aimless," wrote the humane Governor
of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, in recommend-
ing Californian emigration to the superfluous seventy
thousand women within the bounds of the State.
"Anxious because aimless," would have been nearer
the mark. The liberated school-girl is exceptionally
stupid or facile of adaptation to extraneous influences
if, after the novelty of her long vacation has subsided,
she does not miss the beneficent discipline that has reg-
ulated her thought and action for seven, eight, often-
times ten years past. Accustomed to systematic em-
ployment, she becomes discontented and at length pet-
tish and blase without it. The stronger she is in mind
and character, the loftier in her range of ideas, the sorer
is the ennui. Society, the casual resort and diversion.
of the men she secretly despises as her intellectual in-
feriors, is adjudged all-sufficient for her,-not entertain-
ment, but mental aliment. She has a good home; a
father who gives her all the new gowns she asks for,
and a liberal allowance of pocket-money; a mother who
never grumbles at a houseful of lively young people;
Called.
277
brothers who escort her with phenomenal courtesy (in
brothers) to rout and fête; and a wisely-weeded visiting-
list of acquaintances. She is popular,—so long as she
carefully masks the truth that she is not the conven-
tional "young lady," nor quite satisfied with her man-
ner of life. What more can she desire when to these
present goods provided by the gods is joined the pros-
pect of marrying well in due season?
At the peril of being considered "eccentric" and the
loss of the favor of "the men," on whose sultanic
grace her promotion depends, let her asseverate that
she regards the caterpillar nestling in a secluded cor-
ner to spin itself out of sight in yards upon yards of
golden floss a more worthy creature than the butterfly,
that cuts the silk into useless lengths that she may flut-
ter her half day on painted wings in rose-scented sun-
shine. It is idle to try to dupe ourselves and others
into the conviction that, in the change of times and be-
liefs, the fashion in this particular has varied from that
which obtained of yore. The man about town, the typ-
ical élégant, who is as inevitably a standing adornment
of ball and party as are the ices and bouquets, admires
sensible women—as such-no more than did the Love-
laces and Clement Willoughbys of Richardson's and
Fanny Burney's day. The best-dressed girls, the grace-
ful and indefatigable waltzers, the proficients in persi
flage; the "cool hands" in flirtation, attract the
278
Eve's Daughters.
densest swarm of light-winged and light-brained Society
moths. I have heard veteran coquettes acknowledge
that the game, when won, was not worth the candle.
But they burn it, all the same, down to the lowest snuff.
With all our modern improvements upon popular
prejudices, some very sensible people likewise lose
patience with a girl who dares think and utter such
heresies as I have quoted, or be otherwise than con-
tent to do her duty-cut out by Mrs. Grundy, and
basted by Custom-in the station wherein she is
placed. Thus ordains the catechism of social ethics,
with the "Whole Duty of Woman" bound up with it.
as an authorized Appendix. Her brother would be
stigmatized as a fop, a literary trifler, a dilettante, were
he, however wealthy in his own right, to settle down to
the level of her everyday existence. We have educated
our pretty bird in the use of her pinions, and then
clipped them, or bound them closely down. Through
long and patient years she has learned how to work; to
be wretched without work, and now we soothe her flut-
terings with the placebo-" Do nothing, but be as hap-
py as the day is long.
In the endeavor to follow the prescription, she falls
in love; gets over the brief intoxication, unless she is
so unfortunate as to marry while it is upon her, and re-
peats the experiment with variations of the subject,
until she quiets down into wifehood, or becomes too
Called.
279
confirmed an old maid to indulge or to be humored in
such follies. In the latter case, however her vanity
may have been wounded, her heart seldom retains a
scar. Like the moon-struck suitor of Molly Bawn, she
played at love-making because she had "nothing else to
do." Many a man who complacently views his "jewel
of a wife" as the prize awarded to his own attractions,
would be enraged at an inkling of the truth that she
would never have vouchsafed to him room in fancy or
affection had he not happened to cross her orbit when
she was in a state of chronic yawn over the emptiness.
of her life and the universe, and his naïve adoration
supplied a new sensation. Had she been a shade less
listless, he would not have had a ghost of a chance to
woo-certainly not to win her. Many a woman, after
wasting years of time and wealth of devotion upon
an undeserving object, has died of a broken heart, who
would never have loved a worthless man and suffered
unto death if she had had regular employment for her
thoughts and hands. Occupation, congenial and con-
tinuous, is the best panacea for ill-directed fancies of
this sort, be the work nothing higher than designing
patterns for wall-paper, or painting china to order, or
even making up dresses and cloaks for the modiste's
family connection at prices that enable her to deposit a
goodly sum every year toward a fund for foreign travel,
or other coveted luxury.
280
Eve's Daughters.
In the delightful "Autobiography and Correspon-
dence of Mrs. Delany," we find her, at the age of fifty-
nine, making cornices of shells for the Deanery at Del-
ville; for her "bow-closet, festoons of shell-flowers in
their natural colors." "And," continues she, "I have
just finished running with mosaic ground in crimson
silk, chintz covers for the couches and stools." In the
same year she wrote "a moral romance for her own
amusement," illustrating it with "drawings tinted in
sepia." At the age of seventy-five she invented the art
of making paper mosaic flowers, and completed in eight
years one thousand plants.
"Sir Joseph Banks used to say of these that they
were the only imitations of nature he had ever seen from
which he could venture to describe botanically any plant
without the least fear of committing an error.'
Dr. Darwin also praises them as "wonderful in effect
and their accuracy less liable to fallacy than drawings.”
Busy, contented, happy, and honored to the last day
of her eighty-eight years, she has left us a precious com-
mentary upon the beneficial effects of a life filled to the
full with various useful and ennobling pursuits. She
who fears to work beyond her strength and thus abridge
the term of her mortal existence can not consult a more
pleasing and suggestive memoir of one who dreaded.
neither labor nor death.
If, for women modestly endowed with intellectual
Called.
281
gifts and unambitious, there are so many spheres of oc-
cupation and possibilities of usefulness, what shall be
said of those who might be eloquent with tongue or
pen; whose trained touch as nurses would solace the
suffering, who, as educated physicians, could bring quiet
into sick-rooms where the very appearance of a medical
man must, from the nature of patient and malady, excite
confusion and alarm?
Rugged old Carlyle-while he was in his way sin-
cerely attached to the wife whose idolatry of him kept
her above the depressing influence of what was virtual
bondage from their marriage-morning until his stout
heart was riven at her grave-was assuredly the reverse
of optimistic in his views of woman's talents and destiny.
He held, with the pugnacity of a British bull-dog born
beyond the Tweed, to St. Paul's unceremonious formula.
of advice to the Church under the conduct of the young
Bishop of Ephesus:
"I desire, therefore, that the younger women "-(the
New Version has "widows-or women ") "marry, bear
children, rule the household, give none occasion to the
adversary for reviling; for already some are turned
aside after Satan.".
But in response to direct interrogation on the subject
of women-physicians, the honest Scot "sends all he has
to say, as a friend for the use of friends," and to this
effect:
282
Eve's Daughters.
"It seems furthermore indubitable that if a woman
miss this destiny" (marriage), "or have renounced it,
she has every right, before GOD and man, to take up
whatever honest employment she can find open to her
in the world. Probably there are several, or many em-
ployments, now exclusively in the hands of men, for
which women might be more or less fit-printing, tailor-
ing, weaving, clerking, etc., etc.
"That medicine is intrinsically not unfit for them is
proved from the fact that in much more sound and
earnest ages than ours, before the medical profession
rose into being, they were virtually the physicians and
surgeons as well as sick-nurses-all that the world had.
Their form of intellect, their sympathy, their wonderful
acuteness of observation, etc., seem to indicate in them
peculiar qualities for dealing with disease; and evidently
in certain departments (that of female diseases), they
have quite peculiar opportunities of being useful."
He appends to this guarded admission his conclusion,
“that women—any woman who deliberately so deter-
mines have a right to study medicine; and that it
might be profitable and serviceable to have facilities,
or, at least, possibilities offered them for so doing."
Did time and space warrant so extended a narrative,
I should like to tell you what some missionary women
who are at once physicians and religious teachers have
done to mitigate the miseries of their sex in distant
Called.
283
lands, and in the dark places of our own continent.
When I read and hear the stories of their work and
their success; how the vision of the mystical leaves of
healing for the nations has been almost literally fulfilled
in the ministrations to afflicted bodies and misshapen
souls, on the part of the sisterhood whose long-despised
sex is one with that of her who bore the Lord of Life,
my heart throbs high with thankfulness. Solemn old
words sound through my soul;-the pæans of those
who after long conflict, see the turn of the battle in
their favor:-
"For your shame ye shall have double, and for con-
fusion they shall rejoice in their portion; therefore in
their land they shall possess the double; everlasting joy
shall be upon their heads.
"Behold, the Lord hath proclaimed unto the end of the
world-Say ye to the daughters of Zion-" Behold thy
Salvation cometh !"
Not that you, my child, without vocation for medical
study, or the so-called missionary field, are to imitate
these heroic women in aught save steadfast purpose
and patient zeal in the prosecution of whatever life-task
is set for you. But just in proportion as the physician
can labor more effectively than the mass of mission-
teachers by reason of her mastery of a profession, you
can act your part the better, whatever may be your
talents and position, for the clear understanding of
284
Eve's Daughters.
what you can do best, and the determination to excel
in your calling.
Be just to your mind in bestowing upon it the proper
nutriment. Be merciful to it in giving it enough of
this to sustain its powers. I wish that I could make
you understand now, before you make the experiment
on your own account, how the frivolities of the stereo-
typed girl-life; the hours appropriated to dress and the
shams of etiquette; the froth of the chit-chat that
passes for conversation; the so much worse than froth
of gossip about one's neighbors and friends,—in brief,
the refined do-nothingism of Society-lower mental
and moral tone and belittle the whole being. Avoid
this latter evil,--belittling and narrowing,—almost as
sedulously as you would impurity. Stand firmly upon
the higher plane won by familiar intercourse with
master-minds. Know and maintain for yourself that
Life has nobler aims than the fascination, for vanity's
sake, of so many gallants per season. Reject the
temptation to terminate the unworthy triflings; to
curb the waywardness of your fancy; to gratify your
prudent well-wishers and essay the novelties of an un-
tried estate by entering upon a marriage which, how-
ever eligible in the eyes of others, is not, as you own
in your secret soul, what you would have chosen of
your unbiased will.
So far from the election and study of professions by
Called.
285
women acting unfavorably upon domestic life, I believe
firmly, after a tolerably thorough examination of argu-
ments and examples on both sides of the question, that
the highest and purest interests of the Home are pro-
moted by these. She who need not marry unless won
to the adoption of the state of wife by pure love for
him who seeks her, is likely to make a more deliberate
and a wiser choice of a husband than she who has done
little since she put off long clothes but dream and long
and angle for her other half.
"A-waiting for a part-a-ner!" sings the chubby girl
of five in the old-fashioned game of "Oats, Peas, Beans
and Barley-o!" At fifteen, she chants it, joyously,
with a chorus of sister-spirits. At five-and-twenty, the
thinning band still raise the refrain, but with a quaver
of uneasiness in their voices. Women who have
"made their market" smile pityingly; obdurate men
derisively, and gibe at the unwooed maiden's anxiety to
avert a posthumous calamity, the anticipation of which
freezes the marrow in the bones of the girl of the
period.
"Say what you will of the independence of single
women," said a girl of twenty to me. "I wouldn't be-
lieve one upon oath who told me that she didn't dread
the obloquy of old-maidism. For my part, I hope
to marry. I'm not ashamed to acknowledge that I
intend to take the first good offer I have. Think of
•
286
Eve's Daughters.
the disgrace of having one's maiden name inscribed
upon her tomb-stone! I am sure I should never survive
the disgrace!"
In her earnestness she was unconscious of the bull.
At forty-five she is single still. Let us hope charitably
that her righteousness sustains her. That is to say,
that she expresses some ooze of emollient from the
consciousness that, if celibate, it is not her fault. The
knowledge of duty faithfully performed should be as
Mr. Richard Swiveller said of an umbrella-" some-
thing.
To return to a pleasanter topic:-The discipline of
systematic work, with a fixed purpose, induces a patient
habit of mind that tells to immense advantage in the
discharge of the duties of wife, mother, and house-
keeper. She who, to secure time for her "specialty,"
has learned to divide and apportion her time judicious-
ly, and to economize, what was once called in my hear-
ing, the "betweenities," will not be driven into peevish-
ness or despair by the mishaps of days when "every-
thing goes wrong," and a novice would be deafened by
the clash of seemingly antagonistic obligations. He
who has built up his fortune by degrees knows the
value of each penny better than does the heir to a
patrimonial estate, or the speculator who goes to bed
poor and rises rich. And she who contrives to save
here an hour and there a day for the work upon which
Called.
287
her heart is set, becomes an adept in the art. That day
is close-packed beyond precedent during which she can
not espy, pick up, and lawfully appropriate some odd
scraps of time. Emily Brontë kneaded her German
into the batch of family bread, propping the Grammar
over against the tray of dough and conning the morn-
ing's lesson while she wrought.
The Yorkshire parson's daughter presents to me a
fair type of the manner in which most American women
must, perforce, acquire the profession each ought to
have. The thought of it and the resolve to obtain it
must interpenetrate the mind, be worked into and be-
tween the mass of other and necessary duties, nerving
hand and heart for the more diligent performance of
these, that the cherished project which outranks with-
out abrogating them, may be carried steadily forward.
We pause long and meditate dubiously over this one
of Dr. Clarke's sayings:-
"The muscles and the brain can not functionate in
their best way at the same time. One can not meditate
a poem and drive a saw simultaneously without divid-
ing his force. He may poetize fairly, and saw poorly;
or he may saw fairly, and poetize poorly; or he may
both saw and poetize indifferently."
We who are women-especially those who are, to
the best of their natural ability, women after Emily
Brontë's kind—take issue with our teacher, so far as the
288
Eve's Daughters.
gentler feminine projects go. Dr. Clarke never knew for
himself the delicious dreaminess of knitting-work, and
how poetic fancies flow, full and sweet, into the mind.
of the knitter in the fire-lighted gloaming, as if invoked
by the measured click of the gleaming needles. What
experimental acquaintanceship has he, or any other
man, of the thought-evolving properties of "white
work?"
I like the quaint epithet for the long, straight seams
of muslin and linen, the hemming and backstitching,
and running and felling, that enter into "family-sew-
ing." The textual principles of art can be learned as
well over a mending-basket as in the school-room. The
course of reading recommended in connection with any
branch of science and literature is likely to be better
digested if the student takes it in slowly, reviewing
each paragraph in substance in the "betweenities" of
threading her needle, fastening ends and setting another
dozen stitches.
Mary Blake, whose "Twenty-six Hours in a Day”
is a capital Mother's Manual, furnishes us with an
epigrammatic text here:-
"You have all the time there is. Your mental and
moral status is determined by the use you make of it.”
Eugene Scribe, in one of his comedies, shows up a
bas-bleu, who, blind to the intrigue her married daugh-
ter is carrying on under her mother's very eyes, with
Called.
289
her elderly husband's handsome nephew, harangues the
company in her salon upon the effect of Mathematical
studies in controlling the Passions. As we read the
moral, however, it does not appear that the lecturer is
not in herself an exemplification of the benefits of her
vaunted pursuit, but that she has been remiss in the
practical application of the principle in her daughter's
case.
One of the gems of available truth scattered among
the dreary sands of Rasselas, is Imlac's remark that
"Many persons fancy themselves in love, when in real-
ity they are only idle."


CHAPTER XVI.
WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE MOTHERS?
"The parent has, in strictest ethical sense, the first of all claims
upon the child's special benevolence; i. e., on his will to do good."-
FRANCES POWER COBBE, "Duties of Women."

HE girls were coming home! Their school-
days were ended; their home-life, as young
ladies, was about to begin. This was the
cause of the upheaval from its foundations,
of the usually quiet household. The parlors were to be
refurnished, the library fitted up as a music-room, where
Aimée, who was musical, might practice, while Eva,
who was not, entertained her friends in the apartments
on the other side of the hall. Each of the fair gradu-
ates in one sphere-the débutantes in another—must
have her own bed-room. Hence the sewing-room on
the second floor, a lightsome corner chamber hereto-
fore devoted to mamma's work, was given up to Eva.
The house that had, up to this date, seemed large to
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 291.
desolateness for four people, had grown suddenly almost
too small.
"And where, may I ask, is mamma's nook in this
stirred nest?" I ventured to ask, looking about in vain
for the remembered sewing-machine, work-table, and
lounging-chair.
A shadow she meant should be a smile passed over
the face of my friend and hostess.
"Ah! I must show you what a snuggery I have in
the front basement. It is light and airy and pleasantly
retired from the gay bustle that, I foresee, will fill the
rest of the house. I shall be cozily comfortable there
in the evenings, and during the day it is a manifest con-
venience to be upon the same floor with the kitchen.
It was my plan throughout "-hastening to check the
demur she saw hovering on my lips. "The prime ob-
ject now is the girls' comfort and happiness.'
""
"I doubt if they will agree with you. They would
rather think, as I do, that the coziest, softest, prettiest
place of honor should be for her who, for all these years,
has spent and been spent in their service. From their
birth giving has been your part. It has been all outgo.
When will be the income, if not now that they are able
to go alone, are able to appreciate sacrifice and endeavor,
and to reward these aright and openly?"
"I ask no reward except the knowledge that they are
happy," responded the true mother, softly.
292
Eve's Daughters.
The troubled smile returned. We have been friends
from girlhood, and she spoke out what was in her
heart.
"My day is over! As you say, they are able to go
alone. Were I to drop out of their lives to-morrow, it
would make no difference to them or to their brother,
after the first shock was over. It is the natural lot of
mothers in our day. I should be content."
She put her hand on mine impulsively.
"Don't think it blasphemous, but I know how John
the Baptist felt when he said, 'He must increase, but I
must decrease.' Yet he loved the Lord better than he
Mine are dear, affectionate children.
did his own life.
I am thankful that I have been permitted to rear such.
—very glad and grateful! I used to pray hourly, after
my early widowhood, while they were little things
about my knees, that God would spare my life until
they were grown up. It came to me with a strange
thrill, this morning, that I might leave that petition out
now!"
"How old are you?" I asked abruptly, for my heart
was swelling.
"Forty-seven. I was married at twenty-three."
I was silent, because indignant and impotent. This
woman's mother had died at seventy, lamented by all
who knew her, missed and mourned most by the sons
and daughters whose pride she was. I recalled her
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 293
active beneficence in neighborhood and church; her
tender ministrations in the families of her children; her
wise arbitrament in the affairs they brought to her for
counsel and decision. My friend, her daughter, was
morally, intellectually, and physically her equal. What
had held me back from gainsaying her pathetic "My
day is over!"
Should she live to her mother's age, were the twenty-
three years that remained to her on earth to be such
waiting as that of the husk shriveled upon the stem
that bears the ripened fruit?
Ten years ago I tacked above my work-stand a card
inscribed with a bit of wisdom evoked from Leslie
Goldthwaite's quick, thoughtful brain-" SOMETHING
MUST BE CROWDED OUT!" It has helped me over
many a press of seemingly equally urgent duties; con-
soled me for inevitable short-comings; steadied me for
the work of my day. My eye fell upon the silent men-
tor when I returned home, still revolving the problem
set for me by the morning call. In the world at large,
in the history of families as in the individual life, some-
thing must give way in the warfare of "Must-haves"
with "May-wants." Was this the solution of what I
had just heard and seen? of the multiplying similar in-
stances of "children to the front," "parents to the rear"
that vexed my equitable soul? Is there fault, and if so,
whose is it, when what has been the hub of the wheel
294
Eve's Daughters.
}
is relegated to an unimportant place upon the circum-
ference? To the child "mother" is authority, con-
science, Bible. He dwells and develops under her
shadow until such time as custom demands that he
shall be consigned to tutors and governors.
When my youngest born, at five years old, came
radiantly in from a walk with papa, arrayed for the
first time in jacket and breeches, the faithful woman
who had nursed him from his birth electrified us and
drew from him a howl of anguish and mortification, by
falling upon her knees, clasping him in her arms and
sobbing bitterly, "I have lost my baby! I have no baby
now!"
The son, setting out blithely upon his journey to col-
lege, warehouse, or office, where he is to learn how to
earn his bread, the daughter, whose tears drop fast into
the trunk packed by "mamma's own hands" for the
boarding-school that is to "finish" her, may cry as sadly
and more truly, "I have lost my mother!"
Friend and comforter, boy and girl, may find at each
visit to the old home "mother"-as infancy and child-
hood know her-infallible and well-nigh omnipotent-
never, never more!
Meanwhile, what of her who has learned from Nature
and through years of practice to be "mother," and that
alone? The brood that went out from her, callow,
chirping piteously for her care and nourishing, return
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 295
in such bravery of fledging as half frightens while it fills
her with pride. Their note is changed too. She listens
bewildered to the talk of the girl of the period and that
of the "fellow" who "keeps abreast of the times."
The vital necessity of accomplishments unheard of in
her day of pupilage, the cant of modern science, litera-
ture, art, and progress in general are foreign to her ears,
indigestible by her comprehension. If she be very
humble she may comfort, even congratulate herself that
she has reared a race of demi-deities; may survey their
brilliance in a tremor of delight from the obscure cor-
ner into which she has crept, as a bat may peer from a
rock crevice or hollow tree upon the flight of eaglets in
the sunshine. But, human nature being what it is, the
chances are in favor of the supposition that the lowliest
minded will feel aggrieved at her dethronement, albeit
in favor of her natural heirs. Regarding this pang as
disloyal, and a weakness, she will try to hide it, and so
successfully that her most intimate friend will not
divine it. Least of all will the daughter ascribe to her
the possession of such wounded sensitiveness as would
overcome them were they openly supplanted where they
feel they have the right to rule, and their legitimate
claims systematically ignored. They love her very dear-
ly, of course, and always. Did she not bear and bring
them up? Are they--her own flesh, blood, and bone~
Institute of natural affection? Is she not "mother"?
296
Eve's Daughters.
Thinking and saying this, they put her, in more
senses than one, upon the same floor with the kitchen,
and know neither scruples nor remorse for the classifi-
cation then or thereafter. For-and here lies their ex-
cuse, so well understood as to be seldom clothed in
words—she is, in everything, behind the age. When
they were "little girls" she dictated what they should
wear and how the garments should be made. If they
are people of moderate means, her little hoard of trin-
kets and laces, her stockings, collars, cuffs, shoes, were
common property to her and her great growing daugh-
ters, from the time they "got to be just my size." She
had a way of complaining of this that amused them
without hindering their depredations.
"The mother of such big girls has nothing of her
own unless it be her skin and teeth," she would scold,
so plainly elate in the fact that they were old enough
to wear her clothes as to encourage the free-bootery.
It does not occur to the full-plumed young lady that
her parent preferred to be robbed to the conviction
pressed upon her by every daily incident that their in-
terests are no longer identical, or even cognate. Their
very underclothing is of different texture and fashion
from hers. She is satisfied with three-button gloves.
She would wear two-button, and save twenty-five cents
on each pair, but for their protest. They sport six
buttons in walking and visiting apparel, twelve and
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 297
twenty on party gloves. Their shoes cost twice, three
times as much as hers, and are worn over stockings
many degrees finer, with certain prettinesses of “clock-
ing" and embroidery she never thinks of assuming,
even when "dressed." This same
This same "dressing" is with
them a continual feast-with her a hebdomadal luxury.
She can not bear to deny them "what other girls have,"
and their careless, happy eyes fail to trace any connec-
tion between the "We will try to manage it, dear,'
which answers their petitions, and her growing old-
fashionedness. They do not analyze her motive in
offering to make over for herself the black silk of which
Mary is "tired to death," and to give the girl a robe of
the latest and dullest tint dictated by artistic taste.
Jenny's last year's street costume is frayed and shabby.
Moreover, "everybody knows the old thing." Mamma,
"who goes out so little" (naturally) proposes to take it
off her hands, giving a new one in exchange. A series
of such exchanges is not favorable to the development
of "style" in the elder woman's attire, but lends fresh-
ness to that of the younger.
Mary and Jenny are bright, clever girls, ready with
wit and needle. They "go out" a great deal and must
look well. The house, if not refurnished at their début,
is gradually transformed by their agency until the only
unsightly piece of furniture in it is the nominal mistress.
She looks out of place-is growing "poky," complain
298
Eve's Daughters.
the juniors. As time passes she is apt to become less
lively in speech and expression, and they to wonder
petulantly at her backwardness in learning new customs.
The very table is set differently from "her way." The
late dinners à la Russe, ladies' lunches, kettle-drums
and high teas are a surprise and a strain to her faculties.
The daughters, au fait to every improvement upon
obsolete usages, are intolerant of what they consider
her obstinacy when she hesitates to adopt them. Facile.
youth with difficulty receives the idea that novelty is
oftenest pain to age. The sun, with the young, shines
upon the landscape before them. For her who gave
them birth it is the track overpast, "in purple distance
fair," that draws her backward, longing glances as she
walks on into the lengthening gloom of her own shadow.
The usages of years, the sanction of "parents passed
into the skies" make common things sacred to her.
"I'm not cross! I'm discouraged!" piped the little
fellow who had been whipped for persistent fretting.
When our girls find mamma's temper uncertain, her
mood whimsical, they can apply the anecdote.
It is disheartening, dear girls, let one tell you who
has thought herself into a dull, fixed heart-ache on this
subject, to be swept aside by inches, or boldly removed
from the board where one was, not so very long ago, a
figure of consequence. The process of grinding down
from somebodies into nobodies, cuts well into nerve and
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 299
soul while it may remove the excrescences of vanity
and selfishness. When the chipping, and wearing, and
rubbing are over, our elderly matron ought to be an
angel slightly clothed in human flesh. Whereas, being
your fellow-creature, she too frequently evinces little
akin to angelhood except the longing to fly away and
be at rest beyond the reach of the untimely and, to her
notion, unseemly schooling that embitters her present
existence. She likes to be consulted, and she does not.
like to be patronized—especially by the children whose
faces she washed and whose untidy tricks she chided-
it seems but yesterday! She is already sufficiently
conscious of her deficiencies, her ignorance of really
valuable things, without being tormented by animad-
versions, implied or uttered, upon her perverseness in
not sitting to learn at your feet of a thousand triviali-
ties, momentous to you, but flint-dust in weight and
in irritating properties, to eyes already used to the
wider horizon of life that has no appreciable dividing
line from eternity.
"O ye poor, have charity toward the rich!" prays
Parson Dale in "My Novel."
We mothers, enriched by the experience of years,
grown patient and wise through the discipline of our
long probation, beseech you to be charitable to our
slowness and merciful to the stiff movement of mental
muscles that copy with pain new postures and paces.
300
Eve's Daughters.
“Let us alone! for soon our lips are dumb!" is the
silent protest of many a loving parent, set to lesson-
learning when she thinks school-days should be over.
"Then," murmur Mary and Jenny in concert, "if
the case of the daughter be thus with the mother, we
are to walk forever in the old worn-out path that tries
us as sorely as the new can vex her! What, then, be-
comes of our æsthetic zeal, our skill in domestic art
decoration-the house beautiful of our dreams?"
In another chapter I shall have somewhat to say upon
this head. Now I lay down but one, and what seems
to me a sound principle. Your girlhood's home, as it
now stands, has been your mother's kingdom for more
years than you have lived in this changing world. That
it is neat, home-like and comfortable-that it is at all,
is due to her thrift and toil abetting her husband's in-
dustry in another sphere of action. Her furnishment
of her dwelling stands to her as a record of her life.
That was the way in which homes were fitted up in
old times." A new bedroom carpet was an exciting
incident; fresh papering and painting an event; re-
furnishing the parlors an era which seldom fell twice in
one life-time. To accomplish any one of these required
long foresight, economy, and self-denial that went
toward the making up of the individuality and history
of the house-mother.
What Shall We Do with the Mothers? 301
Whatever may be your rights under your father's
roof, while she lives, they are secondary to hers.
Should she choose to assert as much, legal and moral
statutes would bear her out in it. She is not likely to
do this. You smile incredulously at the suggestion.
The danger lies in your selfishness or usurpation, not
in her want of magnanimity; in your forgetfulness of
the truth that while you may be crown-princesses, she
is queen until her death, not in her disregard of your
hereditary claims. What she yields to your petitions.
or dictation is entirely of grace. One day you will
come into realms of your own. She will have no king-
dom but this on earth.
One word of compassion, not of right.
"Mamma
is antiquated in language and dress; in works and in
ways non-progressive. Had she chosen to neglect you
instead of herself; had she given to her own studies.
and mental culture the hours devoted to drilling you
in early tasks; had she kept pace with society in place
of sitting out the long evenings and bright days in the
nursery; had the stitches set in small frocks, trousers,
and coats gone toward the furbishing of her own ward-
robe, you might have had less apparent cause to be
ashamed of her. You would undoubtedly, had you
survived the process, have now more and just reason to
blush for your own defects.
302
Eve's Daughters.
For love's and pity's sake, then, try if this thought
will not transfigure gray homeliness into seemliness
and shining; if, by setting over against each lack of
hers that virtue or accomplishment or physical perfec-
tion of yours of which this lack is the price, you may
not grow in patient love and gratitude—even if you
have not the greatness of soul that should beget, with
these, admiration and reverence for the plain, time-worn
creature you know now as "Only Mother."


CHAPTER XVII.
INDIAN SUMMER.
striking."
'Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not; rather find
Strength in what remains behind.
In the primal sympathy
Which having been, must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering.
In the faith that looks through death
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
WORDSWORTH, “Intimations of Immortality."

HE Love that Lived!'
I read it with heart and eyes elsewhere
than on the back of the novel offered me
over the counter as "something new and
Close beside me sat a white-haired woman whose
hands trembled slightly and continually in turning over
a handsome set of books in library binding. Her hus-
band was at her right hand, her daughter-a fine, intel-
304
Eve's Daughters.
ligent-looking girl of perhaps twenty-five-a little in
the rear. "Prescott," "Froude," "Motley," I de-
ciphered, by furtive glances, as the back of one volume,
then of another, came into view.
"It shall be just as mamma thinks!" pronounced
the husband clearly and slowly, stooping slightly that
his wife's duller hearing might take in intonation with
words. "If she would like to have the set, and in this
binding, we will order them without looking further."
"By all means!" responded the daughter cheerfully.
"Something quite out of the common run, I assure
you!" pursued the polite clerk in attendance upon
myself. "Very interesting!" again thrusting "The
Love that Lived" under my straying eyes.
"It is!" I said, with all my heart.
I did not eulogize his book, and he knew nothing of
the picture worth a thousand fictions that I brought
away with me. The white hair was a crown. The
tremulous hands yet held the scepter. "Mamma," at
threescore and ten, was still sovereign. "La Reine
le veut!" must authorize all decisions of the domestic
council.
"This is as it should be!"
Then, my good sister plodder with me in the deep
dust on the highway of Middle Age, the queen should
study how to reign wisely and well. If we as women
and mothers would protest against the disposition that
Indian Summer.
305
obtains in our day and land to build up the framework
of society with green timber, we must prove the superi-
ority of seasoned wood. To drop metaphor, if we
would retain the influence over our children acquired
during their infancy and adolescence, we must seek to
do so by other means than the bald assertion of our
natural (and accidental) rights in and over them. The
mother who gave over all effort after intellectual growth
at the birth of her first baby, must not complain that
her grown-up boys and girls have outstripped her in
wisdom, while she is still physically in the prime of life.
Of their duty to her we have talked in our last chap-
ter. By the memory of her love and fidelity, her
patience and her sacrifices for their welfare, they are
bound by every principle of gratitude and humanity to
show her respectful duty and affection; to defer to her
wishes and obey her commands. Nor-since most
women do not suspect their own decadence in intelli-
gence and taste until some sudden contrast of them-
selves with their better-educated offspring throws the
fact into unpleasant prominence-should the daughter
set down to willful self-neglect her parent's obvious
failure to adapt herself to the tone and tenets of the
fast-rising generation. I have said before that it is hard
to set one's self anew to con tasks when the habit of
study has been long lost. I admit fully and freely that
it is not only toil but pain to attempt the resumption.
306
Eve's Daughters.
My heart has bled at the sight of such experiments
when the mother, spurred to effort by the desire to re-
tain her children's companionship, or to escape their
contempt, has tried, at forty, at forty-five, at fifty years
of age, to make herself over; to remold demeanor,
speech, opinion, even conscience, in conformity with
the model set up by them. Sometimes a decent coun-
terfeit is the result. Witness Mrs. Holgate in Mrs.
Whitney's rare series of character-studies, "Hitherto."
"A woman who had begun æsthetics rather late in
life. They sat, somehow, curiously on the substratum
of homely habit and unintrospective common-sense.
She had 'settled down.' Very much so, indeed. The
settling had taken place a long while ago, and could not
easily be disturbed. You would hardly expect new
modes of thought or action from her, or a new expres-
sion in her face, any more than new ways of doing up
her hair."
Yet we do not sympathize with Aunt Ildy's summing
up: "Jane Holgate is a good soul, but she is a hypo-
crite!"
We are mortified with the good soul when she never
can remember to say "article" instead of "piece," and
sincerely sorry, with no touch of contempt, that she
makes “ineffectual movements among her guests" at
the conversazione, and insists anxiously upon hearing
what Grandon Cope is saying when she catches the
Indian Summer.
307
word, "æons." As a metaphysician she is a palpable
failure; as a transcendentalist, ridiculous. As the
mother who clings, as for life and happiness, to the
relaxing fingers that have until now been content to
fasten upon her hand for support and guidance, who
shapes language and thought and belief with as single
an eye to their approval as she compounds the “tender
muffins and the melting richness of the lemon-cake" for
their high-culture tea, she is heroic and pathetic!
Excuse the long illustration, but I want Mrs. Holgate
as a type. The trouble with her, as with a much more
numerous and less-to-be-admired class, lies a great way
back; namely, in the original "settling down." A man
at fifty, if he be tolerably robust in body, and if he have
neither overwrought nor wasted his nervous forces, is
in the full glory of his maturity. His words carry
weight, his decisions are pregnant with thought and ex-
perience. He grows now as he could not at thirty,
evenly, broadly, steadily, needing forcing as little as
lopping. His wife-the average matron-acknowledges,
sadly perhaps, but without shame, that she is “too old
to learn." I heard such an one, the other day, refuse
to say "per-emptory," although convinced that the pro-
nunciation was supported by the best lexicographers.
"I can't worry my brains over new notions, my child,"
she averred, plaintively. "I have said pe-remptory all
my life, and shall say it until I die.”
308
Eve's Daughters.
Another, for the like excellent reason, will say "neu-
raligy" and "recognize." Still a third, for the same
cause, will drink tea from her saucer, disdains the use of
the dainty "individual" butter-plate set at her right
hand at her daughter's table, and sickens family and
guests by putting her knife in her mouth.
I characterize these and graver instances of the ob-
stinacy these exemplify as worse than childish folly, as
absolutely wicked disregard of the comfort and feelings
of others. We have no right to "settle down" into self-
ish induratedness that shall offend or hurt those we
love.
There are mothers—I wish I did not know so many
of whom this is true!-who declare that they have no
time for reading, much less for systematic study. One
recurs to my mind with painful distinctness: a woman
who, as a girl, was a zealous belles-lettres student, a
pleasing musician, and eminent among her associates
for her clear, sound sense. She has been for twenty-
five years the wife of a clergyman. Their position and
income are good; her health, with that of her three
children, is exceptionally fine; she is not overburdened
with charitable and social duties. Yet I have it from
her own lips that she "does not read one book a year.”
"Married women, who are mothers and housekeepers,
have no leisure for literary pursuits," she laments.
She believes that she speaks the truth. I tell her of
Indian Summer.
309
a woman who bore eight children, and reared seven to
man's and woman's estate; who, before sewing-machines
were invented, did the bulk of the family sewing with
her own hands-such exquisite needlework that the
daughters preserve their christening robes as treasures
of delicate stitching; who put up pickles, preserves, and
potted meats with zeal and skill Mrs. Rundle might
have envied; a woman whom nobody ever called "blue-
stocking" or strong-minded, yet who for sixty years
read everything she could lay her hands upon, from her
own excellent library of Early English Classics down to
"Middlemarch" and Matthew Arnold. History, biog-
raphy, theology, fiction-all took their turn. A book
lay ever ready within her mending-basket. I have seen
her darn swiftly and beautifully while her eyes rested.
alternately upon needle and open page. Knitting was
a favorite occupation, for she could read almost unin-
terruptedly. But her best hours for study were while
her babies fed at, and fell asleep on, her bosom, "until,"
she would say, laughingly, "they became wise enough
to pull the book out of my hand."
My clergyman's wife listens in polite incredulity.
"She must have been an exceptional woman," she
comments calmly.
I am wearied to the extreme of impatient disgust at
hearing of "exceptional women" who "keep up their
music," and actually find time to draw, read, and think.
310
Eve's Daughters.
What one woman does-unless she be a lusus naturæ,
and no generation can have two uniques—a thousand
others can do. If we would elevate our young people's
minds and aims, we must begin by raising our own.
The help that comes from the down-stretched hand is
better sustained and safer than the "push" from below.
It is our duty to read, to study, to observe, that the on-
ward rush of thought and events may not sweep our
children away from us as we lie stranded, like the pro-
verbial weed upon Lethe's wharf. All our prating of the
"good old times," our tears over modern perversions,
will not restore the one nor alter the channel of the
other. And while nurseries have windows, "mamma,'
though tied to baby's cradle, need not be ignorant that
the world moves.
The crying sin of American society is that it is "too
young," therefore crude. Conversation parties are huge
games of flirtation, or else stupid to boredom. Our
girls can flirt with more grace and safety, dance more
airily, dress better, and look prettier than any other
young women on this planet. As a rule they can not
talk. They lack ballast and tone. Even the intelligent
daughter, whose eager mind craves food, and whose
stored knowledge would be the riper and sweeter for
such turning and tossing and winnowing as come from
contact with more steady judgments and calmer spirits,
gets so little of this at home that she matures unevenly.
Indian Summer.
311
You, as her mother, wrong her more than you dream of
now-perhaps more than you will ever suspect-by
sending her to others for sympathy in the aspirations,
the enthusiasms, the despairs that belong to her sex
and youth. You sustained a real and personal loss in
the moment when she first discovered that her thought
was beyond your plane; that her refinement of sensi-
bility and height of aim were things you could not or
did not care to appreciate.
Our daughters! It is a mystery beyond my under-
standing how we, as women, knowing for and of our-
selves the unutterable secrets of longing, anguish, and
blessedness that enter into the least eventful life of the
least sentimental of us all, can err—I had almost writ-
ten "sin"-in habitually underestimating the vital im-
portance of mutual confidence between mother and
girl. It is not enough that we encourage our children
to talk freely to us, to confide to our safe and tender
keeping feelings and hopes they would blush to divulge
to another. We must prove ourselves worthy and able
to give counsel no less than sympathy; must not have
"settled down" below the level of their requirements.
We may preach and write until tongue and pen fail us
of "mother's" superior qualifications as a confidante
over the bosom friend of to-day, who may be the bosom
serpent of to-morrow. But while the girl on whose full
soul is laid the strong necessity of confession can add
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Eve's Daughters.
to the recital poured into the greedy ear of her chosen
intimate, "Mamma can not enter into these emotions,
you know, dear. She is so much older than I that she
has forgotten how young people feel. Her range of
ideas is naturally different from ours," the misplaced
confidence will go on.
I need but touch upon this point for my pen to
probe many an old but unhealed sore. Who were the
friends of our girlhood? To how many of these yet
alive upon the earth would we intrust the least weighty
of our present trials with assurance of comfort or sound
advice? Of how many of the "secrets" made known
to them by tongue or letter can we think now without
burning cheeks and mortification of spirit? It is a pity
if our delicate-minded, loving darlings may not profit
in part by the experience we carned so dearly. It is
not enough that we sacrifice our self-esteem by recount-
ing our early blunders and reveal how shamefully we
came to grief. The story will neither seal your girl's
lips to her "dearest friend" nor open her heart to you,
unless, with far-reaching prevision, you have kept the
probability of this crisis in mind and prepared her and
yourself for it.
I fear we are making the same mistake in our home
life that some good Christian men and women are prone
to commit, and which some pastors of youthful flocks
inculcate by precept and example. Our babies and
Indian Summer.
313
infant-school bands are trained to sing and say, "I am
Jesus' little lamb," "Jesus loves me, this I know," and
"He bore the cross for me," until a certain or rather a
variable period, known in formularies as the "account-
able age." Then the wind that blew softly from "Beu-
lah Land” and “Beautiful Zion" veers to an alarming
quarter, even to the Mount that burned, and the chil-
dren of wrath are admonished to flee for their lives
from the mouth of the pit unmasked beneath their
feet.
The truth being-in sad sincerity and reverence be
it spoken!—that it is the shepherds' fault if the lambs
are allowed to wander from the Master's fold. They
should have been instructed to draw the nearer to Him,
to lay hold more confidently of His strength as years
and dangers multiply, and they grow into the sense of
His worthiness and their need.
Thus, we mothers, who should never cease to be
teachers, and can never demit our office of guardians—
we to whose love the dear Father of us all condescends
to liken his own—should study with pious craftiness to
prevent the straying of our nurslings as they advance in
age and knowledge. If they learn more rapidly than
we, as is but natural, we have a reserve of garnered
wisdom upon which to draw, provided always that we
have not become like unto our babes in mental powers
while tending them. We can apply to the novel theo-
314
Eve's Daughters.
ries and dazzling paradoxes that fascinate them the test
of judgment kept strong and clear by continual exer-
cise; can become and remain the balance-wheels to
their impetuosity. I pity girls who lose their mother
by the time they are fairly grown, although there re-
mains in her accustomed place one who, wearing her
shape and name, is yet but the affectionate nurse and
housekeeper who, like Sir Joseph Porter, "means well,
but don't know." In justice to "our daughters," let
me add that where I have known one mother sue in.
vain for her rightful position as her child's nearest and
dearest friend, I have seen fifty girls chilled and re-
pelled by a want of congeniality of feeling and thought,
utter paucity of sympathy with what most interests and
moves them.
For their sakes, if not for our own, to avert from
them virtual orphanhood and such life-wreck as may
come, by gradual but sure sequence, from this bereave-
ment, let us add to our daily prayers petitions for
freshness of heart and vigor of intellect, for immunity
from formality of belief and moral obstinacy.
One practical hint at this part of our talk, which may
be useful to the girl and consolatory to the mother.
Before the golden calm of Indian Summer, come the
long, wearying autumnal rains that beat the latest-
blooming chrysanthemums into the earth and de-
spoil the trees of their liveries of russet and purple.
Indian Summer.
315
A like change of life falls upon the woman, one that
renews the memory of the unrest, the mental per-
turbation and physical pains of the transition from
childhood to girlhood. With some, the season is like
the passage of the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
The smouldering embers of hereditary fires, kept under
by the overlying crust of a manufactured constitution,
break forth now, if ever. The pulmonary weakness,
“cured” by a Southern winter or sea voyage the year
after the first baby was born, slides a cold hand up to
the lung that was "touched" then. The painless lump
in the breast-that, after the last child came, revived
an uneasy recollection of a story that a forgotten
grandmother died of cancer-stirs into life and agony.
There is a predisposition to insanity in some branches
of the family the woman who has reached the second
turning-point remembers, try though she does, to ban-
ish the imagination when she succumbs, against will and
reason, to causeless depression, and shivers at nameless
dreads.
Especially do the forgotten physical iniquities of her
youth and middle-age, not recognized then as misde-
meanors, accumulate at this epoch into a mountain of
transgressions, darkening and chilling her existence. She
had no time to take care of her physique while at school,
and, indeed, would not have "molly-coddled" herself
if she had known how to guard against the risks of
316
Eve's Daughters.
fleshly ailments. While the children were small, she
never thought of her own health-what mother does?
Even after her confinements she prided herself upon
the "smartness" that set her upon her feet and about
her household tasks before the month was up.
She is likely to have abundance of leisure for the re-
capitulation of these and other fool-hardy feats. It is
the day of reckoning in the which every overdrawn ac-
count, every deficit in payment, every cunning attempt
to gloze over these by false entries or bold denial of the
debt, will be dragged pitilessly to the light. Where-
soever has been hidden the carcass of slain duty, there
will the eagles of discovery be gathered together. Even
to her who has labored temperately and dealt justly
with her natural forces the period is fraught with dis-
comfort. The blood surges to the head at the slightest
provocation, making the eyes dim, and the ears to ring
and roar. Without any provocation whatever swift
waves of heat flash and throb from feet to crown, and
one lives for a gasping minute in a furnace heated seven
times hotter than an August noon.
The brain is not always to be depended upon for
clearness, nor the memory for fidelity; constitutional
headaches redouble in frequency and violence, and-
crucial trial of all—“Mother" can not work as steadily
as she is accustomed to do without paying the penalty
in a day's or week's illness. She who never had dys-
Indian Summer.
317
pepsia before in her life must now learn to regulate the
quality of food according to the dictates of a disturbed
stomach, and she who has always "set such store by.
her sound sleep" watches for the morning with strained
eyes and tortured nerves.
If ever you, her daughter, would repay, in some
measure, the fostering care that has been yours from
your birth-cry, now is your opportunity. Watch over
her tenderly, wait upon her patiently, and wait for her
hopefully. For-and here comes my promised gleam
of consolation-her real self will return when the
climacteric has passed. With some, and this often oc-
curs with those who have apprehended the approach of
the "change" with dread unspeakable, the passage is
gentle and gradual, reminding one of what Greatheart
says of Mr. Fearing's experience in the terrible Valley,
in which "he was ready to die of fear.”
"But this I took very great notice of, that this valley
was as quiet when we went through it as ever I knew
it before or since. I suppose those enemies here had
now a special check from our Lord, and a command
not to meddle until Mr. Fearing had passed over it."
Once traversed in safety, it is beheld no more. The
pitfalls and hobgoblins and lions coming after the pil-
grim "with a great padding pace," are left behind for-
ever, and the woman may be said to take out a new
lease of existence.
318
Eve's Daughters.
L
Said a physician to me the other day: "When I want
good work done, I look about me for a woman over
forty-five years of age.”
There begins, here, for "Mother" another and, in
some respects, a rounder and stronger life than she has
yet known. The renewal of the lease is upon advan-
tageous terms. She ought to be worth more to her
family and to the world than at any past date, bring-
ing, as she may and ought to do, the sheaves of Autumn
in place of the perishable fruits of Summer.
My honest, homely plea is ended. Again, I pray you,
daughters, be charitable to us, mothers! And may GOD
grant to each of us, my sisters, though eyes dim and
hair whiten, the soul-fountain of perpetual youthfulness
that shall attract and refresh all tender, growing things,
shall feed, as well as beautify the lives we love!


CHAPTER XVIII.
HOUSEKEEPING AND HOME-MAKING.
"The making of a true home is really our peculiar and inalienable
right—a right which no man can take from us ;-for a man can no
more make a home than a drone can make a hive."-FRANCES POWER
COBBE, "Duties of Women."

BOUT once in every lustrum the press of the
country breaks out in active warfare on the
vexed question of woman's work and woman's
A
wages. The paper cannonade is carried on
for some time between those who represent the employ-
ers, and the larger party who uphold the rights of the
employed; a multitude of foolish and some good things
being said on both sides;-then mutters itself into
silence like any other harmless sort of thunder.
body is convinced and nobody hurt, excepting the
novices among workwomen who have not yet learned
that detonation is not reform, nor, of necessity, germane
to it.
No-
Among things worthy of record that grew out of such
320
Eve's Daughters.
a sham-fight about fourteen years since, was a brief,
strong reply penned by Madame Demorest, the celebra-
ted modiste and fashionist of New York, to the inquiry
why so few women attain to complete mastery of any
craft.
'Because," wrote Madame (I quote from memory),
"not one in ten thousand expects to make this or that
trade the business of her life. It is something by which
she hopes to earn bread and clothes until she gets mar-
ried. Being perpetually on the outlook for the fortu-
nate chance that is to relieve her from the necessity of
paid labor, she is content to learn just as little as will
suffice to keep her in her situation. The man, who
knows that he is fitting himself for a calling he will re-
linquish only with existence, makes it a part of himself,
and himself a part of it."
Everybody professed to be satisfied with this solu-
tion, which was indubitably true and altogether perti-
nent, viewing the problem from Madame's standpoint.
We understood, or thought we did, why those of our
young women who are forced to maintain themselves
are content with mediocrity in vocations that are but
makeshifts at the best, and why those of us for whom
they condescend to work while they are on their pro-
motion consent to accept the results of "journey"
labor.
Madame Demorest has, perhaps, accounted for
Housekeeping and Home-making.
321
the fact that there are so few artistes in the United
States. Who will explain the fact, yet more patent, of
the growing neglect of practical housewifery on the part
of young women whose hope and expectation are to
possess and take care of houses of their own at some-
perchance very early-day? That they are thus indif-
ferent is no haphazard assertion.
I do not forget that cookery is taking its place as a
fine-art in our land, and is, therefore, patronized by our
"best circles." I have seen the artistically business-like
blank books open upon silken laps and rich fur muffs,
diamonded fingers flying over them in the eager effort
to preserve the directions of Signor Blot and Miss Par-
loa, during their "fascinating" illustrated lectures. I
enjoy-nobody more-the fun of salad-clubs and cook-
ing-ci.cles, especially the "high teas" to which the in-
timate friends of the fair cuisinières are bidden to par-
take of dishes prepared “exclusively" by themselves.
I recall one which was conducted upon strictly con-
scientious principles, that began with raw oysters and
wound up with confectioner's ices.
"But indeed we got up everything else!" cried a can-
did member, when rallied upon the inconsistency. "That
is, of course, Mamma's cook made the coffee and broiled
the chops, and the Vienna rolls had to be bought, you
know!"
We recollect that Marie Antoinette made rolls of
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Eve's Daughters.
butter on marble shelves from cream skimmed with
golden ladles, and smile indulgence of girlish freaks.
Playing at cooking is less hurtful than the "German,"
and less exciting than the whist-table. The graceful
game does not blind the watchful student of their
"tricks and manners" to
to "our girls'" general igno-
rance of domestic economy, their utter inability to en-
ter, with credit to us or to themselves, upon the prac-
tical business of housewifery next week or next month.
I believe, fully and sorrowfully, that in this incom-
petency lies part of the secret of the early fading and
invalidism of so many of our young wives. Our grand-
mothers did their own housework, often including wash-
ing, ironing, spinning, and weaving; bore many children,
and lived and died in general ignorance of the rules of hy-
giene and orthography. Then ran like wild-fire over
the country the craze of "women's higher education,"
and piano-forte makers and physicians grew rich. The
women who were girls thirty years ago knew little
enough of household management when they were
married. They have, as a whole, seen to it that their
daughters shall know less.
To exemplify the universality of this remissness, take
two instances from widely-severed spheres of thought,
action, and social position.
"I was the eldest of a large family," said the wife of
a millionaire. "My mother was delicate, we were not
Housekeeping and Home-making.
323
wealthy, and much of the responsibility of the care of
house and children devolved upon me. I pity myself
as I look back upon my burdened girlhood, although I
did not then appreciate the injustice done to me. My
daughters shall not be prematurely careworn if I can
help it."
In pursuance of this humane policy, she has fitted
them to become the accomplished wives of men not
less affluent than their father, provided they can always
secure the services of housekeepers and an able corps
of servants to assist them in bearing the responsibility.
The second mother to whom I shall refer is as lov-
ing and ruthful for her offspring as the rich man's wife,
although only the helpmeet of a small New England
farmer. She has two daughters-buxom damsels-fif-
teen and seventeen years old; yet chancing to have
business at the farm a few summers since, I found her
pale and tremulous from a spell of fever, churning sev-
eral gallons of milk, pausing every few minutes to re-
cover breath and strength.
"Surely you are unfit for that!" said I, compassion-
ately. "Can not your girls do it?"
"I don't think such hard labor is good for growing
girls," she answered, the poor wan face softening as she
went on. "I have had to work so hard all my days
that I can't bear to set them at it."
"But if they marry," I suggested.
324
Eve's Daughters.
She sighed. "Ah! then they will be obleeged to
come to it. There's all the more reason, you see,
ma'am, why I should spare them while I can.”
In the half day I spent with her I saw her knead the
bread and get the dinner ready, thanking, with grati-
tude pitiable to behold, one daughter who picked up
and brought in a basket of chips, and the other who
ungraciously laid by a hat she was trimming for herself,
to set the table.
"I'm obleeged to call on the poor children to do so
many things that it's a wonder they don't get clean out
of patience and run away from home," she observed in
their hearing. "My sickness has been an awful cross
to them."
The girls' faces said that she had not overstated the
case.
The elder spoke out pertly:
"She hasn't been able to fetch in a stick of wood for
over a month. Indeed, she's been ailing pretty much
all the time since she had the fever first—a year ago in
August.'
"Yet," I answered, "she has done all the cooking,
churning, bread and butter making, the family sewing,
cleans windows and paint, makes the beds, sweeps and
dusts, and fills up the crannies of leisure left from all
this by taking in plain sewing and knitting. I do not
think a healthy woman could do more."
Housekeeping and Home-making.
325
The girl bridled at my tone.
"I am
sure we just wear ourselves out helping
mother!" she retorted. "I'm tired all the time, and
half of my own work goes undone.”
I heard an echo of her lament uttered in more re-
fined accents not many days ago.
"I don't complain of the sacrifice of my time and
pursuits," murmured an affectionate daughter. "I am
willing to help mamma in every conceivable way. I
devote an hour of every day to dusting the parlors and
taking care of my own room, and often make cake and
jelly, besides arranging the flowers and fruit whenever
we have company. But I don't think mothers appre-
ciate what their children do for them. I know mine
takes all this as her due, and nothing more. She sel-
dom even thanks me for it."
(6
Here is the source of discontent. Our daughters fit
loosely into their places in our homes. What they do
there is for us, and of grace, and they are defrauded if
due recompense of thanks is not awarded to them for
'helping mother." We are not likely to rebel at this
order of things, ours being glad and willing service.
The fear of drawing down the suspicion of selfishness
upon our singleness of loyalty by assigning a share of
domestic cares to them as the work they must under-
take for their own sake, blinds us to their real good.
Where is the mother who has the moral courage to say
326
Eve's Daughters.
to the emancipated school-girl-"You begin now an-
other and important novitiate. Under my tutelage you
must study housekeeping in all departments and details.
In one year's time you should be competent to take my
place if necessary. I expect and shall demand of you
a practical knowledge of baking, roasting, boiling, fry-
ing, broiling, as well as of mixing. It is not enough for
you to understand the art of preparing 'fancy' sweets.
You must be versed in the mysteries of soups, gravies
and entrées. Moreover, you must learn how to market.
wisely, and to accommodate expenditures to means.
All this and much more of the same sort of housewifery
will be imperatively needed should you marry. If you
remain single it will yet be of incalculable service to
you and a wholesome exercise of mind and body.”
Yet this is plain common sense, and the sagacity of
pure, disinterested affection. We are cowardly, false to
ourselves that we do not put it in practice,—false to
our trust, and cruel to our darlings in hardening our
hands and toughening our muscles in order to keep
theirs soft and flaccid.
It is almost inevitable that our young married women
should break down under the sudden weight of care.
and labor. Tempers are frayed at the edges, spines
ache and hearts are wrung to anguish. The overtaxed
spirit joins in the protest of the feeble flesh against the
strain and the torture.
Housekeeping and Home-making. 327
At whose door lies the fault?
In many instances, mother and daughter may justly
divide it. One errs after serious and unselfish calcula-
tion of the weight of two evils. She can force her
child into a delightless routine of labor; be stung and
stabbed by the sight of her reluctant performance of
detested impositions and the hearing of her mutinous
murmurs over the squandering of her precious time on
what servants are bound to perform. Or, she can let
her bonny nestling flutter free from servile chains, glad-
dening her home that now is, with chirp and song,
with no prevision of future enslavement.
The
The daughter sins, generally, through ignorance and
vainglorious judgment, convinced honestly, that she
has argued the whole matter out to a logical conclu-
sion. Her time and strength are worth more than a
seamstress's, or chambermaid's or cook's wages.
world teems with seamstresses, chambermaids, and
cooks, clamoring for the very work she abhors. On
the right hand she sees demand. On the left, sup-
ply. Political and social economy say, "Bring the
two together," whatever domestic maxims may advise.
Before condemning the girl for shortsighted policy,
let us see whether the fond father's reasonings do
not tend in the same direction. The labor of an
educated woman, especially if that woman is his
child, and her scholastic education has cost him.
328
Eve's Daughters.
thousands of dollars—should, he predicates, command
a better market-price than that of an illiterate Celt,
whose schooling cost nothing. Else, the aforesaid
thousands were a poor investment, and higher educa-
tion a failure.
If there is a certainty that his accomplished daughter
will never be summoned by Love or Duty to the presi-
dency of another home than his; an establishment to
be kept in order and provided with things suitable; in
which people must sleep, eat and be cared for,-his
representations have much weight. It seems a sorry
business-a waste of fine material, to break in a blooded
colt to the work of a draught-horse. But the blooded
horse that can not draw at all in harness will hardly be
selected for family use.
To descend to particulars; German, belles-lettres and
music suffer no serious interruption from the hour or
two of stirring exercise that precede the season of
study. The fair novice is better in health, and if her
conscience is rightly adjusted, more buoyant in spirit
for the light housework that falls to her share. There
is unfeigned joy in the knowledge that she is helping,
if only so much as by the lifting of a finger, to ease the
weight her mother has carried, unaided, all these years.
The saddest story written in this country and century
is in a book from which I have already drawn one or
two extracts. "The Story of Avis" leaves the reader
Housekeeping and Home-making.
329
with an uncured, perhaps an incurable heart-ache. It
appears ungracious to handle professionally, as befits
a housewifely matron, heart-fibres so tense and sore as
are those of the woman-artist who is the heroine. It
seems inhuman, too, after the author's plea :-
"Women upon whom domestic details sit with a
natural, or even an acquired grace, will need to cultivate
their sympathies with this young recoiling creature.”
In spite of our sober judgment and disapproval of
the fallacies of "Avis's" reasoning, our sympathies
with her grow fast and warm without cultivation, when
we read her life-long protest against these—to her—
abhorrent " details."
"I hate to make my bed; and I hate, hate to sew
chemises; and I hate, hate, hate to go cooking around
the kitchen. It makes a crawling down my back to
sew. But the crawling comes from hating; the more
I hate, the more I crawl. And mamma never cooked
about the kitchen. I think that is a servant's work.
I'm very ugly to Aunt Chloe sometimes, Papa. On
the whole, Papa," added the child gravely, “I have so
many sorrows in this world that I don't care to live!"
Almost twenty years later, won as we are made to
comprehend, against her will and conscience, since she
is wedded to Art, we see the betrothed Avis :—
"Across her picture or her poem, looking up a little
blindly, she had listened to the household chatter of
330
Eve's Daughters.
women with a kind of gentle indifference, such as one
feels about the habits of the Feejeeans. Unbleached
cotton, like X in the algebra, represented an unknown
quantity of oppressive, but extremely distant facts.
How had she brought herself into a world where the
fringe upon a towel must become a subject requiring
fixed opinions?"
The author of "The Silent Partner," and "Hedged
In," could not, consistently with the depths of true,
helpful womanliness in her own nature, and her appre-
ciation of the dignity and worth of common things.
and common lives, do otherwise than paint Avis as an
abnormal creation,-a stray bird that had lost herself
in a foreign and uncongenial clime. As a child she is
to be pitied more than loved. Only the mother who
died while she was an infant in years, understood her,
even then. The "pretty mother," who was "a thin
sweet vision, like a fading sketch to the young girl's
heart," when "she recalled with incisive distinctness "
that she had been "snatched, kissed and cried over
with a gush of incoherent words and scalding tears,”
after putting the question,—
"Did you never want to run away after you had
married Papa? Did you never care about the theater
again ?”
The wife (she "had beyond doubt, the histrionic
gift,”—so said her grave husband) sobbed over the baby
Housekeeping and Home-making.
331
who had but this "glimpse into her mother's heart ”-
"Oh, my little woman! Mother's little woman, little
woman!" Avis's unrest and her genius were in-
herited.
As a girl, we wonder at Coy's fondness for one whose
affections, with heart and ambitions, are bound up in
her art. A wife she ought never to have been at all,
and maternal devotion is born slowly out of throes of
as deadly anguish as those that brought her children
into a home where they were not wanted. Her natural
inclination and her subsequent growth are all on one
side. She suffers from this excrescent development as
from any other deformity. It is not more fair to ac-
cept her as a representative woman than to take as the
typical American student, a young collegian of whom
I have lately heard ;--a semi-idiot upon most subjects
and utterly deficient in common sense. He can not do
an example in simple Addition or Subtraction; in His-
tory he is a dunce, and in Geography would be puzzled
if asked to define the difference between a continent
and an isthmus. But he acquires languages as by in-
tuition, and is the lingual prodigy of his university,
writing and speaking Latin, Greek, German and Span-
ish with equal facility.
Still another man is a walking Encyclopædia of his-
torical and political lore. He can give the date and sub-
stance of not only every notable debate in the American
332
Eve's Daughters.
Congress since the establishment of our independent
government, but of every Parliamentary battle that has
interested the English people for the last hundred
years. Burke, Chatham, Fox, North and Canning are
as real in their personality to him as Bright and Glad-
stone. But this phenomenal memory takes hold of
nothing beyond historical and parliamentary detail.
For all he knows of general literature, and of the prac-
tical concerns of life he might be an animated copy of
the Congressional Globe bound in whole calf.
Few men are great, even in one direction,—and fewer
women. This small number of both sexes may plan the
work of the world. It is carried into successful opera-
tion from age to age by people of evenly-balanced
minds and healthful energies. Your one-ideaed man
is as truly diseased in perception and in judgment as is
the woman who rides her hobby of art, literature, so-
cial, religious, or political reform rough-shod over the
wreck of domestic comfort and happiness. She who
neglects to comb her hair and darn her children's socks
while she is painting for posterity, or accepts an invita-
tion to address a Woman's Suffrage Convention that
calls her a hundred miles away from home when her
baby lies ill with croup, would be as selfish in devotion
to her specialty had her choice lighted on Kensington
embroidery or preserves. I was once so unfortunate as
to talk with a distressed mother who could not see her
Housekeeping and Home-Making.
333
way clear to go to her eldest son, dying from injuries
received in a railway accident, because she was in the
middle of spring house-cleaning.
"And you know, the servants wouldn't half do it, if
I were not here to look after them!" she moaned.
The boy died, asking with his last coherent word,
"When is mother coming?" She never blamed her-
self. She was the victim of circumstances over which
she had no control. Had she been a literary woman
of note, the story would have found its way into the
newspapers. Being of a strictly domestic turn, she
missed the distinction she merited by singleness of
devotion to The Object of her life.
Let us be fair in judgment and in verdict. While
we do not shield morbidly-absorbed artists and house-.
keepers from censure by the excuse that, as women,
evenness of development is not to be expected of them,
we do not forget the measure of obloquy due to him
who forgets wife, children, and his own physical needs
in warehouse, office, or atelier. His neglect of assumed
and sacred duties tells less upon the surface of home
and society than would the like dereliction on the part
of her who must order dinners and look after the family
wardrobe, but it is one and the same sin with hers.
The perfect intellect in either sex is many-sided,
rounded, firm in poise, wide in comprehension of the
infinite, delicate in perception of the finite.
334
Eve's Daughters.
I remark in passing, that a charming example of the
truth just stated is exhibited in a volume lately read in
our home circle with such delighted interest as usually
waits upon the perusal of an engaging romance. It is
entitled, "The Formation of Vegetable Mold through
the Action of Worms, with Observations on their Hab-
its." The author is Charles Darwin, LL.D., F.R.S.
ар-
It is not then a token of inherent mental or spiritual
dignity when the educated daughter refuses initiation
into the homely ceremonies of cookery-objects to the
troublesome details which are soon comprehended and
put into practice by the half-witted Celt or the Scandi-
navian who can not speak a word of the language of
her adopted land. The intellect that recoils from the
acquisition of the simple principles of mixing, baking,
and boiling, because they disturb the calm balance of
thought, must rest upon a very slender pivot. The ap-
prenticeship to unfamiliar and not agreeable work that
makes college Jane "crawl," does not rub into her
nerves more roughly than the alphabet galls the dull-
minded scullion thumbing her "First Reader” every
night at the kitchen-table. She has been twitted with
her ignorance" a gurrl grown, and not able to read an'
spell!" Literature and all pertaining to letters are quite
out of her line. She will probably not read one book a
year after preparing herself for the work; but spurred
by a single incentive, she drudges on stubbornly.
Houskeeeping and Home-making.
335
A servant of my own once begged me to "tache her
to write." Her betrothed had told her, with the refined
gallantry of his class, that he was "fair ashamed of her
because she couldn't so much as read a love-letter, but
must take it to the misthress to know what was in it."
She had never been to school since her tenth year, and
could hardly make out the sense of a printed page, but
in three months' time she penned, without my assist-
ance, a note to her absent lover:
"DEAR MIKE,-This is to tel you I am wel and hop-
pin you are enjyin the same blesin thank god. I have
lerned how to wright an also how to reade wrighting.
now send on yure leters.
"no moore at present from yure lovin
"MARY O'REILLY."
She taught me many and more valuable lessons than
she had from me as she sat each night under the shaded
nursery lamp, her coarse stiff fingers cramped upon the
pen-barrel, and made straight lines, pot-hooks, and
hangers, until the perspiration broke through the
pores of her red forehead.
"D'ye think I'll ever be an author, ma'am?" she
would ask anxiously sometimes, in submitting the ex-
ercise to my inspection.
"Yes, Mary," I always answered, with no disposition
to amusement at her blunder.
336
Eve's Daughters
Referring once more to "Avis," we read :-
"The usual little feminine bustle of sewing he (Os-
trander) missed without regret. Women fretted him.
with their eternal nervous stitch, stitching, and fathom-
less researches into the nature of tatting and crochet.
He rather admired his wife for sharing so fully his ob-
jection to them. Avis was that rare woman who had
never embroidered a tidy."
Again, "It was not much perhaps to set herself now
to conquer this little occasion; not much to descend
from the sphinx to the drain-pipe at one fell swoop;
not much to watch the potatoes while Julia went to
market; to answer the door-bell while the jelly was
straining; to dress for dinner after her guests were in
the parlor; to resolve to engage a table-girl to-morrow
because Julia tripped with the gravy; to sit wondering
how the ironing was to get done, while her husband
talked of Greek sculpture-to bring creation out of
chaos, law out of disorder, and a clear head out of
wasted nerves. Life is composed of such little strains;
and the artistic temperament is only more sensitive to,
but can never hope to escape them. It was not much;
but let us not forget that it is under the friction of such
atoms that women far simpler, and so for that yoke, far
stronger than Avis, have yielded their lives as a burden.
too heavy to be borne."
The summary is painfully realistic. Each of us who
Housekeeping and Home-making.
337
has kept house for a single year subscribes groaningly
to the accuracy of the sketch. The question raised by
my reason and supported by experience is, whether
even to the artistic temperament brier-scratches are
ever fatal injuries. Annoyances they are, these atomic
particles and points that bury themselves in tender
skins. While the smart is new the sufferer is prone to
cry out that her senses are deserting her; but when the
prickles are withdrawn, brave spirits arise superior to
temporary irritation. A woman who had professed her
willingness to spend two hundred days "in copying a
carrot that hangs twenty feet away from you against
the wall" ought to have been not merely brave but
patient.
Domestic life has its peculiar trials, but so has every
other condition of this, our mortal probation. They
who wear thin shoes and step gingerly will feel the peb-
bles in the path. It is the firm tread of the stout boot
that presses them into the earth.
You may pass a long, useful, and contented life with-
out learning how to embroider a tidy. As American
homes now are-and there is faint prospect of recon-
struction of our domestic system-no American woman,
however exalted or assured her social rank, or whatever
may be her accomplishments, can afford to remain
ignorant of practical housewifery. This is a rule with-
out exception. Disregard of it is unwise and selfish.
338
Eve's Daughters.
Absorption in your chosen art or profession, however
worthy it may be in itself, becomes a fault when it
ignores the claims of others upon time and considera-
tion. It is not enough that your aims are high, your
ends noble. The canal leads to the ocean as surely as
does the broad beneficent river, but it is only a straight,
muddy ditch throughout its length.
To absorb, to retain, to be nourished, to grow-all
this is to receive. This is Happiness. To give of what
you have and are—of yourself—that others may be bet-
ter and happier-this is Blessedness.
By a beautiful provision of Nature, self-denial and
work offered in this spirit and for this purpose ennoble
instead of dwarf heart and intellect. The antithesis
of this proposition is no less true; to wit, that the pur-
suit of any object to the exclusion from thought and
care of all besides, especially when the thing is coveted
because the possession of it will contribute to our own
enjoyment or advantage, will eventually harden and
narrow the character.
To be an excellent housekeeper is in itself one of the
lesser aims of life to a woman of culture and refinement.
The ministry to her kind by means of an intelligent
comprehension of it, and just personal attention to
“domestic details," should be a study and a purpose.

CHAPTER XIX.
DRESS.
'Katherine. I'll have no bigger! This doth fit the time,
And gentlewomen wear such caps as these.
I never saw a better-fashioned gown,
More quaint, more pleasing, more commendable.
"Taming of the Shrew."
STATISTICIAN, curious in such matters,
has laid before me a computation to the effect
that one-third of the time of the working-force
of the average American household is em-
ployed in making clean the clothes soiled during the
other two-thirds. Furthermore, that at least one-third
of the quantity remaining after this subtraction, is con-
sumed in buying, making, and remodeling the garments
designed to cover these perishable frames of ours.
"Gallantry forbids me to hint," comments my philo-
sophical friend, "how many immortal beings are, by
this order of affairs, converted into galvanized dummies

340
Eve's Daughters.
·
for the display of clothes.' Much less would I dare
conjecture how many women become, through such
agencies as I have described, variegated husks, gilded
swaths enclosing shriveled kernels and dusty hollow-
ness."
All this catches the fancy of cynic and philosopher
(I do not use the terms in this connection as inter-
changeable). Men are so used to declaiming against
feminine methods of doing work, and feminine fancies,
that they recognize the familiar jargon, accept it and
pass it on, unchallenged and unchanged.
""
Shaking our judgment free from plausible platitudes,
let us consider one or two self-evident propositions.
We must-being in a state of "artificial civilization
-wear clothes. Clothes must be clean, whole, decent,
and suited in quality and make to the wearer. In the
last clause we descry Prince Ahmed's pavilion. The
millet-seed, when cracked, reveals the countless involu-
tions of a canopy which unfurls to cover a mighty
army.
What is "suitable"?
While the question seems to be clogged with peculiar
complications in our democratic country, those who
have traveled afar can testify that neither the peasant's
garb, usually so picturesque, often so uncomfortable
and senseless, nor conventual robes, rid the women.
who wear them from the pleasing anxieties that roll up
Dress.
341
into a burden of care with those who exalt "Where-
withal shall we be clothed?" into the dignity of a Pro-
fession. The Quaker maiden, with face modest and
fresh as an English daisy, bestows as much thought
upon the texture and shade of the dove-colored gown
and close bonnet as does Miss McFlimsey upon the
gorgeous costume to be ruined in one night's whirl at
a "crush" ball. In fact, I doubt if careful examination
into the circumstances and mental exercises of the two
women would not reveal that she who clothes herself
and family neatly, but with painstaking economy,
making "auld claithes gar amaist as well as new,” ex-
pends more time and pains upon ways, means, and
cffects in dress than does she whose "variegated husk
is putative evidence of "dusty hollowness."
"
Frown as the utilitarian and ascetic may upon the
pretty trifling, the truth can not be set aside that dress
has been a fine-art throughout the ages that have
groaned themselves away into Eternity Past, since Eve,
crouched among the bushes of Eden, hurriedly sewed
up
the seams of her fig-leaf apron.
Hear stern Isaiah's prophecy against the wanton
daughters of Zion:
"In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of
their tinkling ornaments about their feet, and their
cauls and their round tires like the moon; the chains,
and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and
342
Eve's Daughters.
the ornaments of the legs, and the head-bands, and the
tablets, and the earrings, the rings, and the nose-jewels,
the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and
the wimples, and the crisping-pins, the glasses, and the
fine linen, and the hoods, and the vails."
We are moved by the glib catalogue to a shrewd
surmise that the seer may have copied it from the ad-
vertising column of the "Jerusalem Journal des Modes,"
or interviewed a court-milliner.
The world and women are better and more sensible
now than in the generation when the fisherman Apostle
—himself a married man, with a mother-in-law resident
under his roof-recommends the ornament of a meek
and quiet spirit to wives, as preferable to "plaiting the
hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel.”
An unprejudiced child, in reading a passage that has
been quoted into shreds, must perceive that Peter does
not prescribe this spiritual adornment as the bodily
covering, or prohibit the "putting on of apparel." We
have outgrown the idea that sin per se lurks in furs,
laces, velvets, or even diamonds. The Wesleyan sister
who, being in conscience bound to draw the line of de-
marcation between church and world somewhere, drew
it at feathers, wearing flowers instead in her Sunday
bonnet, would be laughed at now in her own denomina-
tion. Every such distinction is arbitrary, and the con-
demnation of recusants which is based upon it is un-
Dress.
343
christian and irrational. It is such fierce elevation of
non-essentials into test-questions of inward graces that
has brought scandal upon the professors and teachers
of a Faith which is holy, harmless, and undefiled.
Nor is there folly in cultivating a just taste for this
Fine Art. A study of becomingness, of harmony of
fabrics and colors—a knowledge of the prevailing modes
and the ability to adapt these to the wishes and means
of wearers—are as reasonable, in their way, as the en-
deavor to be so far acquainted with the general princi-
ples of music and painting as to be competent to dis-
cern between the good and bad of each art. Because
a worthy thing is abused there is no need of casting
wholesale opprobrium upon it. Because a long-haired
cockney has nursed his natural liking for music into a
tumorous outgrowth that absorbs every other intellect-
ual sense and offends the taste of his neighbors, am I
to eschew Mendelssohn and shudder at Wagner? If my
acquaintance over the way, in her ambition to become
the first woman-artist in America, lets her house go un-
swept, her youngest-born tumble about the front yard
clad in a single brief garment, and his predecessors in
age roam the town as wild as Zulus, shall I look coldly
upon Raphael and doubt the piety of Fra Angelico?
It would be fatuous to dispute the statement that
thousands of women in Christian lands yearly sacrifice
virtue and their hopes of heaven to a mad passion for
344
Eve's Daughters.
dress and ornament; or that tens of thousands starve
their minds by ultra-devotion to that which treats of
the seemly covering of the corporeal part. For such
devotees sane people have the same measure of con-
temptuous pity that they feel for gluttons and drunk-
ards. The "all things richly to enjoy" of Divine gift
and permission have been perverted into licentiousness.
There is a lust for dress which falls short of downright
bestiality only by being in itself trivial and mean. It is
the infatuation of small minds, and is, almost unexcep-
tionally, the external sign of excessive vanity and a
limited range of ideas. The capital I that symbolizes
personality, and should, in width, hardly exceed a fila-
ment of gossamer, is stretched into a cloak for the
envelopment of the whole being. Over the upper edge
the wearer sees the outer world by glimpses.
"What I shall wear" is, in the circumstances, a con-
sideration of gigantic interest. That so few others care.
what the result of the lucubrations may be, or note the
"effect" that has drawn off the shallow pool of thought
to the muddy ooze of the bottom, is so seldom sus-
pected by the egotheist that she hardly needs our pity.
This is one extreme of the arc described by the
pendulum, as the other is personal neglect and slovenli-
ness. No woman-or man either, for that matter—can
afford to be absolutely indifferent to dress. The obli-
gation laid upon our sex to make home by seeing to it
t
Dress.
345
that food is well-cooked and attractively served, and
rooms clean, comfortable and pretty, extends to neat-
ness of person and such attention to attire as shall not
only avoid offending the eye, but please it and gratify
just taste.
This may be denominated the Esthetic Morality of
Dress. I earnestly commend the consideration of it to
those wives and daughters who imagine-if we are to
judge by their practice that working-clothes must
needs be slatternly; the women who make a market for
the cheap calico wrappers trimmed with tawdry strips
of more gayly-colored chintz, that flap against the door-
posts of low-priced stores. They are the class who sit
down collarless to breakfast, their hair in crimping-pins,
their feet in ragged gaiters, or slippers down at the heel.
It is hard for a woman to respect herself in such a garb.
Whether she suspects it or not it is yet more difficult
for her husband or father to respect her. However
busy a man he may be, he would rather wait ten min-
utes longer for his morning meal when his wife or
daughter is the cook, in order that she may slip on a
decent dress, with a line of white at the throat-that
indispensable insignia of ladyhood.
"The absence of a collar will impart a cast of vulgar-
ity to the finest face," wrote Miss Leslie in the first
quarter of this century.
It is a rule that holds good in this, the last.
346
Eve's Daughters.
There is a mixture of parsimony and ostentation in
reserving one's best clothes, sometimes the only pass-
able ones, for the delectation of "company" at home
and abroad. The habit is apt to extend to other
things; to beget a fashion of dishonest reckoning and
sharp practice in word and behavior, if it does not
finally confirm itself into the principle of putting
money, strength, talent, courtesy, even religion where
they will show to most advantage and bring in the
largest returns of personal benefit. It is scarcely pos-
sible to overestimate the influence of these minor
points of ethics upon character and conduct. Prevari-
cation in action is as culpable as utter falsehood. She
who wears ragged underclothes beneath a velvet coat
and spreads her children's beds with coarse, unbleached
sheeting, that she may drape the state couch in the
guest-chamber with fine linen, is seldom honest and
thorough in other respects. The father or husband
who pays for fine clothes has surely the right to see
more of them than the visitor of an hour or a day.
It is not practicable to lay down any general direc
tions, much less specific rules, for the guidance of those
who would dress tastefully "if they only knew how."
In this regard fashion-plates are a nuisance and Jennie
June a snare to such as have not the root of the matter
in them. A suggestion or two, however, may suffice
for the correction of glaring abuses of the liberty of
Dress.
347
construction and action which obtains with some of the
uninitiated.
Unless you have money in abundance and irrefraga-
ble taste, do not essay striking costumes. A bonnet of
"leonine" yellow, crossed by a lily-white plume, may
become a beautiful brunette at a fashionable reception.
With a promenade suit it is vulgar; in church it ap-
proximates profanation. She who can afford but one
best dress for street, visiting, and Sunday, should
choose black or sober colors, and shun the, to some
people, easily-besetting sin of gaudy trimmings. Wear
what you will in the way of light and fanciful raiment
in-doors for afternoons and evenings, if a florid taste
craves expression. In public places they are a sole-
cism.
Study consistency of attire everywhere and always.
A silk cloak and a common stuff dress are, in Mr. Wel-
ler's phrase, "unekal." When you air your second-best
suit abroad, let the second-best bonnet keep it in coun-
tenance. A dress hat and a cheap gown remind one
versed in the etiquette of apparel of a cactus in full
bloom above the ungainly stem and abortive leafage.
Hygienic reformers themselves being judges, there
has never been a costume-national, provincial, or in-
dividual—which met the requisitions of health and
good sense. Eve's fig-leaves had the merit of sim-
plicity, economy, and comfort in the climate of Para-
348
Eve's Daughters.
dise. Her daughters have seldom compassed so much
with one hundred times the labor. The practical mind
has little pleasure in fighting unreformable abuses. It
is, moreover, possible that this question of modern ap-
pareling is a red rag which has sent the blood in blind-
ing surges to the assailants' heads. There is a tre-
mendous weight of evidence in support of the assertion
that women dress more comfortably and more in con-
formity to the laws of decency and health now than did
their mothers, grandmothers, and very-far-back-indeed
ancestresses. We have Isaiah and ancient sculpture in
corroborative evidence of this audacious assertion.
We wear flannel next the skin; plenty of loose, warm
undergarments in winter, thick shoes and fur coats, few
skirts, and those short enough to allow us to walk with.
ease, and educated women no longer lace tightly.
Dr. Thomas, in his elaborate work "On the Diseases
of Women," writes:-
"Chapter upon chapter has been written against
tight lacing in so vehement a style that the reader, if
she did not reflect, might suppose that to this abuse
could be traced the whole catalogue of feminine ills.
If perchance, however, she inspected the unyielding
stays which once compressed the sturdy form of Alice
Bradford, and which are now preserved in Pilgrim Hall
in Plymouth, she would at once see that the indictment
was not a valid one; and similar objections might be
Dress.
349
raised against all the other causes which I have ad-
vanced, viewed as isolated influences.”
Tight lacing makes one intensely uncomfortable to
begin with, and long persistence in the foolish practice
reddens the nose irremediably and as certainly as tight
shoes produce sick headache. Volumes of physiologi-
cal argument would not abolish the fashion of wasp-
like waists as speedily and effectually as the announce-
ment made above. The outraged blood, forced out of
its legitimate channel, retreats vengefully to a point.
where its settlement must ever remain a source of
keenest mortification. I have heard of a woman who
would have been beautiful but for this blemish, and, in
desperation, applied leeches repeatedly to the inside of
the nostrils to abate the nuisance. The experiment
was unsuccessful; the sullen red held the fort obsti-
nately. Nor have I ever known a case where lungs.
and heart were subjected to long-continued compres-
sion, in which in due time the violence done to the vi-
tals was not proclaimed by a "crimson-tipped" nose as
fiery as a dram-drinker's-that is, unless the author of
the deed died of consumption, apoplexy, or angina pec-
toris before the height of bloom was perfected.
The fact of the desuetude of the suicidal custom,-
to the unborn offspring of the offenders often a mur-
derous one,—is proved by unmistakable signs. Where
fifty women padded their busts thirty years ago, per-
350
Eve's Daughters.
haps one exceptionally flat-breasted one does now.
Most of our girls need no such appliance, being broad
of shoulder and deep of chest, and our elderly ma-
trons show a growing propensity to copy their English
sisters in a gain of plumpness with advancing years.
To be thin is no longer the acme of feminine desire,
especially when a kindly coating of flesh is needed to
fill out sinking cheeks and defacing wrinkles.
The young girl should be fitted with some one of the
numerous excellent bodices or corsets now in vogue,
by the time she is thirteen or fourteen. These, we may
remark, are totally unlike Alice Bradford's "unyielding
stays," or those with which our own mothers girt them
about,—machines as straight and well-nigh as stiff as
tree-boxes. They were drawn as tightly about the soft
upper parts of the abdomen as silken and hempen
strings could pull them. Many had not the strength
to lace their corsets properly. I have a vivid recollec-
tion of standing by, an open-eyed and commiserating
witness of the mysteries of the dressing-room, when
as a child I was permitted to see grown-up young lady
visitors prepare for dinner or dance. Each, in turn,
commanded the services of a stout serving-maid who
corded her with a power of muscle that would have
insured a Saratoga trunk against the most energetic
baggage-smasher. Upon ordinary occasions the lady,
if she were of an independent turn, laced herself up,
Dress.
351
tussling valiantly to insure her bondage. A common
custom was to cast a loop of the lace about the bed-
post, as a convenient belaying-pin, and strain upon this
with the whole weight of body and muscle until the
creaking construction of buckram and bone closely
banded the waist as in a vise. The breasts were forced
up to the collar-bone; the ribs gradually compressed
until they overlapped one another. Women fainted in
crowded assemblies then, for want of breath, which
would never have had room to re-enter the collapsed
lungs had not the instant expedient in all cases been to
cut the corset-strings. Boarding-school girls often slept
without loosening the lacings that would require half-
an-hour's work in the morning to make fast again. We
of this generation are paying, in life-blood and tears,
for this unholy work.
Our girl's corset is pliable and carefully-adjusted to
the figure. It is the mother's fault if the child pur-
chases a "nineteen inch," when she should wear noth-
ing smaller than "twenty-two." Unless this blunder is
made, it is not possible for such a corset as, for ex-
ample, "La Reine," to press hurtfully upon any part of
the frame. The hips are protected, as is the abdomen,
by their covering, the spine gently braced and kept
straight, and the swell of the breast encouraged by the
amplitude of the curves enclosing it. One recommen-
dation of such a bodice is that it will not continue to fit
352
Eve's Daughters.
if tightly laced. The thin whalebones bend viciously—
then break, and prick the sides of the transgressor.
The finely-tempered steel fronts guarding chest and
stomach snap and the garment must be thrown aside,
ruined through ill-usage. Another time the foolish
wearer will know better than to attempt to defy Nature
and the Rational Corset-maker.
I make a place gratefully here for part of an article
on "Dress Reform," which I clip from the Newark
(N. J.) Daily Advertiser. It is a "leader," from the pen
of the scholarly and practical editor, Dr. S. B. Hunt.
I have an object in drawing freely from prominent
journals pertinent comments upon the subject of this
work. It is interesting and edifying to note in these
the drift of the best minds, the conclusions reached by
the most acute perceptions in a profession that holds
in its working ranks some of the ablest men of our
times. The Press is not an instructor alone nor yet
the minute recorder of passing events, nor again only
the Physician that counts pulse, respiration, degrees of
temperature in the system of the mighty Public it has
in ward. It is the Seer of the Century, chronicling the
coming of wind and storm and pestilence and the
majesty of fair weather, when air and sky are to the
common observer without presage.
I insert extracts from periodicals and from books,—
as well-written and as much to the point under con-
Dress.
353
sideration as Dr. Hunt's,-in the body of our volume,
in preference to using them as foot-notes, for two rea-
sons.
I would avail myself to the full of the apt quota-
tion, borrowing for my opinions all the aid the endorse-
ment can give. And, secondly, I would insure for the
extract a reading more careful than the casual glance
that scarcely lingers longer on the starred foot - note
than while the page is somewhat leisurely turned.
The testimony of so intelligent a professional man
and writer upon physiology and hygiene is not to be
carelessly dismissed, even by the radical unused to see-
ing over, or around, his hobby.
"Men are supposed to dress with simple reference to
comfort. Women, for some inscrutable reason, are
equally supposed to torture themselves for the sake of
shape, and there has been no end of foolish talk on the
subject of tight lacing and small waists, all resulting in
absurd and inartistic exaggerations of the female form.
The humbugs in ladies' dress are plain enough, and any
observer, even the most charitable, detects the padding
of the too voluminous form, interrupted by a closely
girded and slender waist. How many volumes have
been written on the subject of tight lacing can never be
told. It has been howled about from platforms and in
all the virtuous magazines. But the fact is that a
woman who affects loose garments is lazy and violates
354
Eve's Daughters.
the laws of her formation. The present style of dress,
close-fitting and clinging to the form, is unmanly, but it
is very womanly.
"The wiser anatomists and physiologists say that a
man breathes with his abdomen. There is a regular in-
crease in the expansion of his chest down to the line of
the midriff or diaphragm. The lower ribs are freely
movable, widen out with every inspiration, and crawl
in with every expiration, while the muscles of the ab-
dominal walls supply the exhaust and the expulsive
force of the lungs above. That constitutes the manly
form. It is a true part of his machinery. But it is not
womanly, and only a lazy, or, to use a phrase as descrip-
tive as it is coarse, a 'sozzling' woman will habitually
wear a loose gown and neglect what physiologists re-
gard as the proper support of the female form when en-
gaged in the industries of life, in walking or in the up-
right position. The universal sense of women, so far as
regards decorum in appearance, is to be 'well set-up,'
like a soldier going on guard-mount, who is expected
to be clean throughout, closely-buttoned, and steadily
erect. When we speak of a man who is 'soldierly,' we
mean a fellow with high shoulders, full and capacious
waist, and thin flanks, with rather light weight in the
quarters. When we consult the female graces-which
fully expressed mean the highest and noblest health of
woman- we mean precisely the opposite conditions.
Dress.
355
'A low forehead is an excellent thing in woman,' and
with that go the drooping shoulder, the diminishing
waist, and the full lower form which it is a disgrace for
any man to carry around. The Greek sculptors had
this idea exactly, and it is charmingly expressed in the
'Three Graces,' a work which is as pure as it is beauti-
ful.
"There is another point in this which we do not think
involves any other indelicacy than such as pertains to
all anatomical facts. When a woman breathes, or it
may be a little untrained and ill-cared-for girl, she
breathes with her upper ribs and lifts her collar bones.
No healthy man ever breathes in that direction. When
we see a man puffing up his upper chest the immediate
suggestion is that consumption is his doom. With a
woman the same lung motion is an evidence of sweet
and glorious health. The bottom fact is, that the nearer
a woman approaches the masculine form the more un-
sexed she becomes. The reason of the female form,
the scanty waist, the strong but narrow diaphragm, are
a part of the diplomacy of nature, and mean the resist-
ance of our occasional growing force, which, with a
man's natural form, would obstruct the action of the
heart and impede the respiration. The anatomists, who
have seen thousands of skeletons of savage or civilized
training, find always the diminishing waist in women,
and they know why.
356
Eve's Daughters.
"After all the lecturing on tight lacing, the truth is
that Nature demands by her most imperative laws that
women should have small waists, and that the misery
and harm undoubtedly inflicted by the over-use of cor-
sets is only a blind and ignorant obedience to an in-
stinct which, properly directed, is graceful and natural.
Still, there are competent gentlemen who think that
their wives and daughters should have the same form of
chest as themselves, and there are doctrinarians who
reason that instead of breathing with the thorax, as
women always do, they should breathe with the abdo-
men, as men always do. God ordered otherwise."
We may further congratulate our sex upon the aboli-
tion of the terrible custom of wearing upon hips and
stomach such an immoderate number of skirts as were
essential to the peace of mind of the fashionist who
flourished in our mothers' time, or in our school-days.
It was not an exaggeration when the satiric cartoons of
illustrated weeklies portrayed the full-dressed belle
wedged in a door of regulation width, or filling the
whole interior of a coach, her escort riding upon the
roof. Over the wide dispread cage of wire or crinoline.
that gave the balloon-shape to the outer casings, she
sported twelve or fifteen petticoats, most of them heavy
with starch and tuckings. On the top of all floated a
gown-skirt ten yards in circumference, and often flounced
at the bottom.
Dress.
357
I well recollect the horrified expression of a physician
who, on being aroused at midnight by the sudden ill-
ness of his daughter, picked up from a chair her cloth-
ing, minus the dress proper, as she had cast it aside at
retiring, and bore it off to the store-room to be weighed.
There were twenty pounds of it. Just at that era of
Fashion's history, corsets went entirely "out." This
girl, whose seizure was neuralgia of the stomach, had
carried this incubus, bound by tapes, about a waist de-
fended from their pressure by one thin garment of cot-
ton cloth or linen. It was not unusual, on laying off
the clothing at night, to discover that the strings had
cut a raw line in skin and flesh.
Our dear Mrs. Delany thus describes the court-dress
(date of January 23, 1738) of Lady Huntingdon-Whit-
field's Lady Huntingdon-the warm advocate ten years
thereafter of the principles of the "Calvinistic Metho-
dists:"
Her petticoat was black velvet, embroidered with
chenille; the pattern, a large stone vase filled with
ramping flowers that spread almost over a breadth of
the petticoat from the bottom to the top. Between
each vase of flowers was a pattern of gold shells, and
foliage embossed and most heavily rich. The gown
was white satin, embroidered also with chenille, mixt
with gold ornaments. No vases on the sleeve, but two
or three on the tail. It was a most labored piece of
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Eve's Daughters.
finery, the pattern much properer for a stucco staircase
than the apparel of a lady-a mere shadow that tottered
under every step that she took under the load."
In 1760 she commends a "neglige" for her grand-
niece, with a "stomacher made to pin on," so as not to
drag the shoulders of the growing girl forward, and
subjoins most sensibly:-
“The vanity and impertinence of dress is always to be
avoided, but a decent compliance with the fashion is
less affected than any remarkable negligence of it."
It is refreshing to reflect that we no longer endanger
our lives by walking through slush and upon damp
pavements in thin slippers, or load spine and dia-
phragm with external applications of "vanity" and
vexation of spirit no less than of body, or wear pyra-
midal helmets a foot high of puff and powder, or short
waists that bring the stricture of skirt-bindings and
gown-belts directly upon the tender breasts and most
vulnerable portion of the lungs. Our costume has still
enough uncured follies encrusting it, but they are not
enormities.
Now for the homelier, but not less important details
of the toilette. And if the intelligent reader is amused
and provoked at the circumstantiality with which sim-
ple directions are given,-" the things which everybody
knows!"-I beg her to believe the assertion that every-
body does not obey in these respects what seem to her
Dress.
359
the dictates of common decency and such knowledge
of health-laws as the poorest and meanest Christian in
this country should possess. Everybody does not
know—or knowing, does not live up to her belief—
that exhalations from the body are dirt, and that dirt
of all kinds, if we except dry earth, is malodorous.
The night-dress should be warm in winter, cool in
summer, and always loose in every part, that the blood
may recede naturally from the brain, and the slackened
play of heart and lungs go on evenly and healthfully.
Whatever has been worn in the day must be shaken
hard when taken off, and each piece hung or laid out
separately upon nail or chair. The like precaution
ought to be observed in removing the night-gown in
the morning. The clinging humors thrown off by the
pores, sleeping and waking, may be dislodged in part
while still warm. If suffered to soak in cooling into
the fabric, they become offensive to sight and smell,
and the fruitful source of disease. In plain language,
they may be described as effete animal matter that de-
composes rapidly, and with putrefaction, emits a sick-
ening odor.
Immediately upon rising, the bed-coverings should
be removed, shaken, and spread out over foot-board or
chairs, and the mattress be left exposed to the air ad-
mitted from open windows. The practice of making
up a bed while still warm from the heat of the human
360
Eve's Daughters.
some.
body is unclean, and, like most uncleanness, unwhole-
The body actually loses weight during the
hours of sleep, as has been demonstrated by repeated
experiments. The escaping effluvia (the term is just,
however impolite) hang, a viewless vapor in the air,
steep linen, and reek in blankets. You can smell them
on re-entering your closed bedroom after you have been
in the outer air for a few minutes. If they were never
so faintly colored, the day would break dimly upon
your waking eyes. Were it possible to eliminate them
from the air and condense them, you would behold a
pound of corrupt matter from which you would shrink
with loathing unutterable. Yet you swallow and in-
hale this with every word and breath while you remain
in an unventilated sleeping-chamber.
Much of this liberated vapor is carbonic-acid gas, and
deadly to all animal life. The bad taste in your mouth
before you brush your teeth, the "tight" feeling about
your head, the slight giddiness and nausea that pass
away in the bath-all are symptoms of one disorder.
You are poisoned! Your bedroom, however elegant in
its appointments, has been all night a grotto del cane.
Unaired and undeodorized clothes upon bed or body
are as truly empoisoned as was the shirt of Nessus; al-
beit usually more slow in operation. Pile on clean
blankets, shaken and cooled every morning, if you
"sleep cold," and set a screen between you and direct
Dress.
361
draughts; but secure, by means of lowered or raised
sashes, a bounteous current of pure air to replenish the
lung-supply and to sweep out noisome exudations.
It is often objected, when frequent changes of body-
linen are recommended and positively enjoined in
warm weather, that the family-wash is thereby made
too heavy. Without staying to inquire what may be
the truer economy in such cases, to pay laundress or
druggist, I would suggest that the difficulty may be
obviated in some measure by judicious management on
the part of each wearer. Two changes per week will
generally suffice, even in summer, provided every under-
garment is shaken and aired thoroughly—when practi-
cable, sunned-before it. is resumed. Thus the linen.
worn in the forenoon may be removed when one
dresses for the afternoon, and hung where the air can
blow freely over it until next morning. The set for
afternoon has in turn the same opportunity of disin-
fectment. A garment assumed while still damp with.
perspiration is sure to become offensive. This rule
premises that aired raiment shall be put upon newly-
washed bodies. The bath-room is the best preventive
of excessive labor in the laundry. Body-linen that has
been yellowed in the wearing has to be rubbed so hard
that it soon wears out.
((
'Why?" asks Corinna Holgate in her study of
Grecian Myths, preparatory to a "High Culture" tea-
362
Eve's Daughters.
66
why was Venus fabled to have arisen from the foam
of the sea?"
Aunt Ildy "shot back the answer, quick as a flash,
an irony of common sense, out of a swift, frowning
cloud of contempt":-
"Because you must be clean before you can be
beautiful!"


تمامی شاهد
CHAPTER XX.
GOSSIP.
"But the man did neither look up, nor regard, but raked to him-
self the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor."-Bunyan's
Pilgrim's Progress.
'People will talk.
'Ciascun lo dice' is a tune that is played oftener
than the national air of this country, or any other."-Oliver Wendell
Holmes.
"I remember that Abbie Ann once put out her washing, and this
fact kept the whole social element of Cedar Swamp on the qui vive
for a number of days.”—Cape Cod Folks.

D
R. HOLLAND has told us that "the cure for
gossip is culture."
The prescription is excellent-as far as it
goes. But weeds spring faster and flourish
more rankly in a plowed and enriched field than in
the hard soil of a common. It was into the swept and
garnished house that the seven unclean spirits followed
their host.
To the culture-intellectual-that sharpens percep-
tive faculties and disposes the whole mind to activity,
364
Eve's Daughters.
must be added worthy and regular occupation, and just
moral sense, integrity of purpose and speech, and
Christian charity in construction of others' actions and
motives, if we would save our educated young women
from the favorite pastime of their inferiors-gossiping.
Among the woful perversions of terms in our lan-
guage, the inside-out twist which the good old Saxon
word "gossip" has sustained may claim a bad eminence.
"Godsibb a relation by a religious obligation. From
GOD, and sib, an alliance.”
Thus Webster-and in close connection-"One who
runs from house to house, telling news; an idle tattler."
A pretty word, little used, is "gossipry." It has a
quaint crispness about it to which tongue and ear take
kindly. It signifies “idle talk, gossip," or-anomalous
association!" Spiritual relationship or affinity."
It is evident to the non-philological reader, as to the
verbalist, that we sorely need substantive and verb to
express what we all have reason to know so well; that
which, with many women, fills up the gaps left in
thoughts and lives by the absence of a specific object.
One that would so absorb into itself the wandering
energies, so possess the mind that everything small-
using the word as a synonym of unworthy-would be
crowded out. Without this, the runners that should be
trained into use and fruitfulness, trail wildly hither and
yon, and like the muck-rake, take up straws, and sticks,
Gossip.
365
and dust. How intricate and unsightly is the mat thus
formed, let the history of every neighborhood, the un-
written stories of blasted reputations, thwarted lives,
and broken hearts testify.
Where is the first false step? At what juncture of
the girl's experience does it begin to become pleasanter
to believe the tale which casts a shadow than that
which illumines; easier to credit disparagement of an
acquaintance than to receive gladly a narrative which is
honorable to the subject and to human nature? When
-following the deflected line-do even the amiable and
refined acquire a positive relish for tainted meats—in
culinary parlance, high game? Is there a biting spice
of truth in the pessimistic jeu d'esprit―"There is some-
thing pleasant to us in the misfortunes of even our best
friends?"
Am I uncharitable? hasty to judge and to condemn
thoughtless speech? May it not be that righteous in-
dignation at the unchecked growth of a popular evil
takes on the vision and expression of personal rancor?
The experience and observation that lead an individual
teacher to a certain conclusion may be unfortunate and
exceptional.
Test my declaration for yourself, my clean-hearted
Mary, glowing with the novelty of the home-coming;
eager to ply in the field which is the world, the craft
learned in the garden-plot of the school. Relate to a
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Eve's Daughters.
lively circle of your compeers in social station and edu
cation, a story of human heroism, of virtue that was
proof against temptation, of self-denial and sorrow
borne meekly that others might not suffer, of patient
toil for noble ends. Use all the eloquence of feeling
and forcible diction to send the lesson home to each
heart. You are heard with attention, because the tale
is cleverly wrought up. All combine to pronounce it
"interesting," perhaps "beautiful and touching." One
optimist boldly affirms that it is "gratifying to the
finest feelings of the heart." Here and there an eye
kindles or softens under a mist of unshed tears.
people, as a mass, are coy in the display of their "finest
feelings." There is danger, where some are concerned,
of mistaking the casket in which these treasures are
stored for a lumber-chest. The main current of talk
bears swiftly away from the topic introduced by you.
The optimist may roll the sweet morsel under his
tongue, but he does it after the manner of ruminating
animals, in silence. There is little to provoke discus-
sion in what you have related. It is too smooth and
round, by half, for enterprising wits. To all it is com-
monplace. To some it is vapid.
But
Do not you supply an antipodal theme that the ex-
periment may be fairly tried. The probability is that
you will not have to wait long before a cynical slur
upon truth, goodness, faith-something that comes
Gossip.
367
•
under the head of Paul's "whatsoever things are honor-
able, just, pure, lovely, of good report "—excites general
mirth, tempered by weak disclaim. Or an adventurous
spirit, ambitious of repute as a judge of character, a
"knowing" critic, tells his tale of adroit hypocrisy or
bare-faced iniquity. What I have long ago named in
my own mind, "the blue-bottle-fly instinct," awakens
at the dexterous touch, the scent of decay. The story
is caught up; tossed from an earnest listener to a laugh-
ing questioner, pulled to pieces that the juices and mar-
row may be sucked and the revelers fatten upon the
extracted richness. Even the few who do not share in
the feast are less disgusted than they think or would
admit to others. They retain what they have not rel-
ished. The liméd twig does not hold them, but they
carry away befouled feet.
The gamin who would not hearken to a story of a
good little boy, unless he might afterward be treated to
one about two bad little boys-"uncommon rum uns,
you know"-was honest in the expression of this in-
stinct. At heart he was a nascent vulture, and in his
simplicity, revealed the hankering after carrion.
The deduction from these and kindred examples is
humiliating, as tending to prove that the taste for
"high" game is inborn, and that we possess it in com-
mon with vermin and the lower orders of birds of prey.
It lurks, embryonic, in that recess of unimaginable hor-
368
Eve's Daughters.
rors, the human heart, awaiting the process which is to
warm it into active life, or cast it forth a wretched abor-
tion. When allowed to survive, it grows very fast, as
do all larvæ bred in corruption, and feeding upon the
same. The tittle-tattle of idle moments becomes the
tattle of hours that ought to be busy, and tattle, when
it has conceived, brings forth scandal. Witness against
a neighbor, however light its import, passes almost in-
evitably, by insensible gradations, into false witness.
The girl retails with mischievous glee her cleverness
in discovering the truth that a schoolmate's winter hat,
which all the girls think "awfully stylish," was made by
the wearer's eldest sister.
"Queer-isn't it? when their father is so rich. It
must be sheer stinginess that leads them to do such
things. Indeed the family have the reputation of being
parsimonious. Or, it may be that they are not so well
off as the world says. Their handsome carriage and
horses, fine furniture, and lofty ways generally, may be
but a hollow show. It is surprising-unaccountable-
wicked in people to strain and struggle as some do to
keep up appearances. Why can't they be honest,
through and through?
"Haven't I heard something about the low origin of
the family?" ventures an auditor, musingly, her ambi-
tion and imagination aroused by the narrative and
tempting conjectures. "For aught we know, the mother
Gossip.
369
may have been a milliner, and the taste for dabbling in
bonnet-making may be hereditary. Such things do
happen, you know, in what is called our best society."
"I can believe anything now!" The author of the
gossip is always the first to believe in its authenticity.
“I can never trust Carry Smith again as I did before I
found out that about her hat. Why, she let us praise
it, over and over, without once intimating that it did
not come from a milliner's. Straws show which way
the wind blows."
By now the hum and sting of the "maybes" from the
hive on which she began tapping "for fun,” have
angered her. Mirth has given place to wrath.
"If there is one trait which I hate above all others, it
is deception! I can not endure anything in the least
underhanded!"
From this time henceforward she and her clique will
watch Carry Smith; keep her at the focused-point of a
moral microscope. By such easy descent is gained the
plane of the slanderer. Without being consciously
malicious, the bias of her belief is in the direction of
detraction. It is safe-so runs her knowing reckoning
-to parody the dreary old hymn and
Suspect some danger near
Where others see delight."
The gossip prides herself, by and by—and alarmingly
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Eve's Daughters.
soon-upon not being hoodwinked by devices of ami-
able seeming that impose upon the ordinary observer.
No action is motiveless, and when the motive appears
upon the surface, it is presumably a specious pretense.
The professional detective dives below it for sinister
designs; turns the bull's eye of Diogenes's lantern into
the complications of moral machinery for indications of
dishonest purpose, the wheel within a wheel. In her
natural philosophy there is no such thing as a simple
mechanical power. It must come to pass that she will
invent motive and inner wheel rather than be disap-
pointed in her quest.
A woman who may be twenty-five years of age, but
who, in face and manner, might be nineteen, a limpid-
eyed, velvet-voiced ingènue, laughed in my face last
week when I firmly declined to believe that a man
whom she professed to like, and whom I had thought
good and honorable, was a masked roué.
"My dear madam," said the soft voice, "you always
amuse me excessively. You are so refreshingly unso-
phisticated! My theory is that it is best to doubt
whatever looks fair. Men are all alike, you know-
and women, for that matter!" with a ripple of sweet
laughter. "Only we dissemble more gracefully!"
I, who am old enough to be the married belle's
mother, eyed her in dumb admiration as a perfect
specimen of her kind. The sheen of her draperies,
Gossip.
371
the brilliant eyes, the dreamy legato of her speech, the
deliberate delight of her regalement upon the thing she
had tainted indicated beyond the shadow of misgiving
the carrion fly (Musca Cæsar).*
Yet she is not a misanthrope in the usual acceptation
of the word. She enjoys life, its bustle, variety, and
chatter, and dearly loves her work. She gloats over a
temptingly-foul morsel of scandal with the tantalizing
vivacity of the big blue abomination that buzzes pa-
tience and senses out of you on "muggy" August
afternoons, and awakens within you fresh access of
compassion for the much-bevapored Mariana in whose
tortured ear,
'The blue fly sang i' the pane."
Nine chances out of ten our Musca Cæsar establishes
to her own satisfaction some claims to the title of wit.
The showiest fun at the lowest rates is to be had by
turning the peculiarities and foibles of acquaintances
into ridicule. A mimicking grimace that would dam-
age the self-respect of a dissolute monkey brings the
performer into the admiring notice of a whole company
when the tide of entertainment is at the ebb. He has
raised a laugh and "showed up" a fellow-creature.
Therefore the party is grateful, and repays the effort
in applause as cheap as the wit that elicits it.
* An allied species is the Musca Vomitoria.
372
Eve's Daughters.
"Pshaw!" cries Lady Sneerwell in the "School for
Scandal,"—"there's no possibility of being witty with-
out a little ill-nature. The malice of a good thing is
the barb that makes it stick."
How easily the accomplishment of mimicry is ac-
quired, and its popularity, we see illustrated in the early
success of Lady Teazle with Sir Benjamin Backbite's
clique. The country-girl lately wedded by Sir Peter
thus describes to her husband the "curious life" she
led as “the daughter of a plain country squire":
'My daily occupation was to inspect the dairy, su-
perintend the poultry, make extracts from the family
receipt-book, and comb my Aunt Deborah's lap-dog.
And then, you know my evening amusements! To
draw patterns for ruffles which I had not materials to
make up, to play Pope Joan with the curate; to
read a sermon to my aunt, or to be stuck down
to an old spinet to strum my father to sleep after a
fox-chase."
Into the emptiness of this life fall a rich husband
and a career as beauty and wit, Lady Sneerwell's set
supplying the latter.
"When I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure
good humor," she protests
Here is a sample of this sort of good humor:
“When she is neither speaking nor laughing (which
very seldom happens), she never absolutely shuts her
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373
mouth, but leaves it always on ajar, as it were—thus:
(Shows her teeth).
"I allow even that's better than the pains Mrs. Prim
takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her
mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a
poor's-box, and all her words appear to slide out edge-
wise, as it were-thus: How do you do, madam? Yes,
madam!'" (Mimics).
This is coarse, but so is all scandal. From the very
character of the entertainment refinement can not be a
constituent element. It costs less and goes further
than any other social diversion, but it is a caviare to
which "the general "-viz., the majority-decidedly in-
cline.
Gossipry—to employ the term we like—is not, per se,
scandal, nor is scandal necessarily slander. These sus-
tain the same relation to false-witness-bearing that
regular moderate-drinking does to confirmed inebriety.
The most innocent "tippling" is a dangerous indul-
gence in an age when the taste for stimulants develops
with terrible facility into passion.
I should stultify myself and insult your good sense
were I to intimate that unfavorable criticism of ac-
quaintances and comment upon conduct is always un-
friendly and ill-bred. There is a radical dissimilarity
between fair adverse judgment temperately stated and
abuse zestfully uttered. It is occasionally a duty to
1
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Eve's Daughters.
speak openly of faults that mar some characters we
would fain admire. If you are constrained by your
knowledge of these to withhold esteem, or shun asso-
ciations approved by others, it may not be only proper,
but in certain circumstances obligatory upon you, to
state why you act thus. It is a duty to shield your-
self from the imputation of causeless prejudice and to
protect others from the risk of misplaced confidence.
This, however-do not forget!-is duty and disagree-
able; not pastime or pleasant. When you are con-
scious of a thrill of excitement that is not dread nerv-
ing you to the performance of the obligation, pause for
severe examination of motives and spirit. Charitable
Christians do not bring to such an exposé elation or
even cheerful resignation.
So well understood is this principle, that the profes-
sional scandal-monger lards her piquant dishes with
protestations of reluctance. Even those who listen
and credit, smile slyly in recognizing preamble and per-
oration. She would not be unfair for a hemisphere
nor unkind for the world. She calls heaven to witness
to the purity of her intentions, angels and men to
"overhaul" her heart and "make a note" of the un-
feigned grief with which she industriously sows
dragons' teeth in her neighbor's grounds. She would
not act as unlicensed victualer of the region, hawking
"high" meats from door to door, if the duty were not
Gossip.
375
laid upon her by fate and strapped upon her groaning
shoulders by conscience. The sight of such an one
becomes microscopic with the practice of her profes-
sion. If furnished with a telescope she would instinct-
ively reverse it to look through the bigger end. Her
specialty and craze are for belittling and demeaning,
not for broadening, never for elevating.
The cure of this plague of tongues in individuals and
in communities begins, as do most effectual cures, at
home. No better municipal regulation for cleansing
thoroughfares has yet been enforced than the law re-
quiring every dweller. in Jerusalem to keep clean the
street in front of his own door.
Set before you steadily a few leading facts and the
deductions drawn from these and frame your conduct
upon them, let your neighbors do as they will. First,
that four-fifths of the fault-finding and would-be setting-
to-rights done in this life of ours is altogether gratuitous
-in inception and execution a work of supererogation.
"Nobody's business" is best left undone when Every-
body has his hands more than full of his own—or ought
to have.
Next, that your time and powers are too costly to be
wasted in the consideration of what your neighbors eat,
drink, wear, say and do. In this sense, assuredly, you
are not your brother's or sister's keeper. He who can
build wisely and well, desecrates his talents and squan-
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Eve's Daughters.
ders his strength when he sets about pulling down walls
and sorting rubbish.
Thirdly, that all the intermeddling of the busiest
gossips in town and country will not do the work you,
in your proper and single personality, were sent into
the world to perform, or release you from the respon-
sibilities of that position. Your account is to be ren-
dered to the Master, not to man.
"There are gods many, and lords many; yet to us
there is but One GOD, the Father, of whom are all
things and we unto Him."
It helps the soul perplexed by a multitude of officious
counsels to look away from friend and foe, to this one.
infallible Refuge and Strength. Do your best as unto
God, and leave the result to Him. This is the one in-
variable rule of life. Naught can absolve you from the
sin of neglecting it. The peace that ensues upon
obedience to it bears the spirit on eagles' wings into
the sunshine that abides continually above the clouds
which press earthward.
Lastly, that, according to your view of time's value
and brevity, the average term of human existence is not
long enough in which to execute that which you ought,
by now, to have made up your mind to do. It is a
divine impatience that makes you intolerant of the loss
of hours and breath in the discussion of "They-says "
-the filing of the fine gold under careless or wanton
Gossip.
377
hands. You do well to be angry at such prodigality of
another's wealth.
To change the figure; if the gossip must make mince-
meat-seasoned with the malice without which it would
be insipid-of her neighbors' characters, teach her by
firm but polite measures that you will lend neither tray,
chopping-knife, nor condiments. You can not repress
her zeal in the prosecution of her trade. You can pre-
vent her from using your clean rooms as shambles or
kitchen.
Where varieties of the Musca Cæsar, or her cousin,
the Musca Vomitoria, do much abound, prudent house-
keepers will put up "fly-doors," and keep their meats
out of the way.
Judged by such reasoning and examples, tattling in
its least harmful form sinks to its right place—that of
a vulgar vice. For the truth of this statement I ap-
peal confidently to your knowledge of the sense of self-
degradation with which you recall, in the solitude of
your chamber, the talk of an evening, during which the
foibles and private histories of people, and not "the
real things," have kept tongues busily at work and been
the food of thought. You are disgusted at your own
folly, vexed with those who have led you into dirty
lanes and across bogs, instead of over sunny spaces and
up to breezy heights. It is a yet graver question how
often this experience may be repeated without blunting
378
Eve's Daughters.
your moral and intellectual tastes; how soon toleration
will be followed by perversion. Regard as a wholesome
symptom the shame that impels you to avoid looking
in the detractor's face as the story of another's blem-
ishes is rehearsed. Bashfulness in the hearing is virtue;
awkwardness in replying is grace.
“'Tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aver-
sion," is a Malapropish bull. In gossipry it is safe and
sensible to begin with a great deal for the subject, and
sagacious to be on your guard against the retailer of the
scandal.
The harpies tainted in touching their food. The
slanderer who loves her craft has abundant internal
evidence of her descent from a renowned and ancient, if
somewhat disreputable, line. Being carnivorous and
insatiable, you may not hope to escape her talons when
your turn comes. It is not enough that you are con-
fident in the sense of stainless rectitude. Fair and un-
polluted flesh becomes a loathsome mass when she has
had the handling of it, and the M. Cæsar brood bloat
upon her leavings.
If my metaphors offend nice taste, please remember
that the theme is one not suited to the employment of
delicate epithets. The despicable filthiness of the thing
can not be exaggerated in the telling of it. I would, if
I could, make the commerce in characters, mildly called
backbiting," as odious as that plied by the vilest of
66
Gossip.
379
women; would organize our girls into crusading leagues
-total-abstinence bands for the suppression of this
scourge of social circles and Christian churches. And
why not? Whose hand wrote "Thou shalt not bear
false witness against thy neighbor" upon the same tab-
let and in direct proximity with-
“Thou shalt not kill,
"Thou shalt not commit adultery, and
"Thou shalt not steal"?
Do I strain the truth in declaring that the slanderer
is thief, panderer and assassin all in one-an accursed
trinity of death and woe? It is time that decent Chris-
tians and philanthropists awoke to the real nature of
this sin. The weight of public opinion, if not churchly
discipline, should crush the traffickers in rumors that
grow into lies with the passage from one lip to another.
"Repeat nothing that you do not yourself believe,"
is a principle the practice of which would put an em-
bargo upon three-fourths of the infamous business.
Should more stringent means be needed-"Give with
the tale the name of the responsible author." The en-
forcement of this brace of decrees would, in a month's
time, cause a precipitate and a settlement in the foul
river that would leave the current clear.
I forewarn you that your avoidance of the disposition
and habit you are so ready to contemn will be a thorny
undertaking. Your talk of books and what they teach
380
Eve's Daughters.
will be stigmatized as pedantic; the discussion of Nature
and of Art as arrant affectation. Strangest of all, your
defense of the assailed will be resented by the benevo-
lent disciple of the Backbite school, who would not
knowingly do injustice to her worst enemy-if she had
one. Heaven knows that she hates nobody! You may
be sure that your attempt at vindication of the slandered
person, your civil endeavor to correct a misunder,
standing, natural perhaps, but deplorable," will be as-
cribed to the least commendable motive her invention
is capable of supplying. More could hardly be said for
the ingenuity of malignity pur et simple. I have but to
append that you must take your choice of the two
evils.
""
No! "Culture" of the mind and taste is not a cure
for gossip in its milder features, or even for coarser and
downright scandal. If it were, this chapter would never
have been penned. Nor is it true that one who has
clean hands and a pure heart can defy the Sneerwells
and Snakes of the politest society in the most refined
city of the most virtuous commonwealth of our Union.
I pass several times a week through a fashionable
quarter of a handsome town, and by an elegant house,
the residence of an amiable and opulent gentleman. At
a certain window of this mansion Mrs. Arachne Webb
sits behind a cleverly-adjusted blind for hours of the
daylight and the darkness. She is not old, nor yet silly.
Gossip.
381
In her youth she was a belle, and still "makes up" well
in the evening. She has all that wealth and social
standing and an indulgent husband can give her. The
world has treated her well from her cradle. What
moves her to watch, in her lace-draped corner, for the
passage of possible victims of fang and line? Heaven
has been propitious to her, and even bitter fruits sweet-
en with sunshine. Yet she is ready to cry out in a rage
of disappointment, of days in which fly-trapping has
been dull, and of evening watches when no senseless
moths have been abroad :—
'Let that day be darkness, neither let the light shine
upon it. As for that night, let darkness seize upon it."
Diligence in business has wrought as a sequel fervor
of spirit. This is the rational answer to the oft-repeat-
ed query-"Why should So-and-So care to rend the
reputation of Such-an-One who has done her no harm?
No act is motiveless."
Neither are our gossip's daily works and ways. By
degrees, she has learned the love of work for work's
sake. Spying, tattling, and detraction are the object of
her life. She hunts her preserves with the keen nose
and ardent temper of your pointer when you take him
a-field. Scentless stubble is her aversion.
Covert as is her watch; and her presence betrayed to
the passer-by only in the accidental stir of a curtain, or
the flash of the diamonds on the finger inserted to
382
Eve's Daughters.
widen the peep-hole between the blinds, Mrs. Arachne
Webb's post and occupation are as much a matter of
general understanding as was the existent fact of the
garment, allusion to which made Mrs. Wilfer blush for
pert Lavvy, and elicited Mr. George Sampson's agree-
able smile, and-"After all, ma'am, we know it's
there!"
Everybody in town knows that Mrs. Arachne is
"there." Saucy youths, in passing her door, hum, sotto
Voce
“Will you walk into my parlor?'
Said the spider to the fly."
Filmy threads of her spinning tangle in our eye-
lashes, tickle our noses; even trip up the unwary and
the weak.
"She is a dangerous woman!" we say, warningly, to
our young people. “Be careful what you say to her."
Yet we all smile upon her in society, and call upon
her at decorous intervals. Not quite certain whether
she is more dangerous as foe or as friend, we feel in-
tuitively that it is safer not to offend her. She is in deli-
cate health-so she gives out-suffering excruciatingly
at times from enlargement of the spleen. Whereat
nobody marvels and some smile bitterly in their sleeves.
In company, she affects sofa-corners and shadowy, cozy
nooks, "not being strong"-say those who know no
better. Those who do, shun the gleaming eyes of the
still figure, and give the be-webbed retreat a wide berth,
Gossip.
383
For she spins most cunningly in such circumstances.
Butterflies on diaphanous wings float before her by the
dozen, giddy grasshoppers and droning bees, and she
selects her prey at her leisure.
((
But," reason the incredulous, "a scandal-monger so
notorious can do no harm. Who, among sensible people,
will believe her tales?"
Sensible Christians, by the score, do receive them in
full faith. Some pass them on without other contradic-
tion than by attaching her name. Some, for the mere
love of sensation, omit this precaution. The scandal
that comes smartly to the jaded palate of the epicure in
gossipry is generally accepted without demur.
"I don't believe it, you know," thus the accomplice
drugs conscience. "But it is such a rich tid-bit that I
can not keep it to myself."
The next repetition will be without the qualifying
clause.
There is at once virile and conceptive power in scan-
dal. Nothing but the expulsive force of will and con-
science can rid the mind of it.
The Psalmist prescribed heroic treatment in his day:—
"Whoso privily slandereth his neighbor will I cut off!”
"What shall be given unto thee? or what shall be
done unto thee, thou false tongue?
"Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper!"
That is:-excision and the moxa.

:
CHAPTER XXI.
PRINCE CHARMING.
"My Belovéd spake and said unto me—' Rise up, my love, my fair
one, and come away. For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and
gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of
birds is come."
Awake, O North Wind, and come, thou South! Blow upon my
garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my Belovéd come
into his garden and eat his pleasant fruits.”—Song of Solomon.
T is only in fairy tales that Prince Charming
has to awaken a Sleeping Beauty. Far oftener
the unmated maiden climbs, with Sister Anne,
to the watch-tower and gazes horizonward for
signs of the Coming Man-not for love of Fatima, but
on her own extremely individual account. Sometimes
the cloud of sun-gilt dust is all that rewards her eyes
from daydawn to twilight. Sometimes it is a flock of
scary sheep which she has mistaken for a throng of
wooers. Usually, however, if she is not over nice in

Prince Charming.
385
the choice of him who is to deliver her from the fears of
eternal spinsterhood, Somebody appears, ready to at-
tempt the emprise.
This watch, and the varieties in the manner thereof,
have been the theme of more satires and diatribes than
any other human failing, even among feminine foibles,
since the evening when "weak-eyed" Leah connived at
the paternal manœuvers that gave her sister's intended
husband to her, as the elder daughter. Poets have
idealized it tenderly; cynics sneered viciously, and utili-
tarians baldly dissected it as a wise provision of Nature.
“Marriage is an incident to Man; to Woman an EVENT,”
is graven, an irrefutable verity among the world's max-
ims. It is one of the decreasing store of apophthegms
that prove the unity of the human race. If the definite
article were substituted for the indefinite before the last
word of the axiom, the universal belief on this topic
would be more fitly expressed.
It is not my purpose to depart so far from the in-
genuous tone I have preserved throughout this volume.
as to deny the justice of the world's verdict. The purest,
sweetest happiness which women can know this side of
heaven, flows from a harmonious marriage. I have, not
admitted, but freely averred elsewhere in these pages,
that husband, home, and children offer a sphere with
which the most ambitious of our sex may well be thank-
fully content.
386
Eve's Daughters.
With this preamble, I make way for a man's thoughts
on this head. Among the many extracts gratefully
compiled for my use and the reader's profit, I insert few
more apposite and trenchant than an editorial that ap-
peared in the Springfield Republican, August 28, 1881,
under the caption-" Uses for Women."
"The best use to which a woman can be put is to be
made the honest wife of some good man and the judi-
cious mother of healthy children. All the art and
learning that she can compass are not of so much value
to the world as the example of a life passed quietly in
the exercise of domestic duties and social righteousness,
in the gift to the country of children who shall carry on
the national tradition of courage and generosity, of un-
selfishness and virtue.' —London Truth.
"This excellent suggestion is not new, but does it
never occur to the London Truth that if married life is
to be held up to woman as her true profession, man
ought to give her the social right of proposing mar-
riage to the other sex? We submit that nothing can
be meaner in man than to assure woman kindly, calmly,
and profoundly that her true place is to be a wife and
then coolly, but firmly, bid her wait for that opportunity
till some man condescends to ask her. Suppose nobody
ever asks her. Suppose a cruel fate has denied her
personal charms or a dowry. Suppose, instead of 'some
good man' presenting himself, she has a succession of
Prince Charming.
387
offers from men who, each and all, have such defects of
character that even no man would care to enter into
partnership with them. Must she take the risk—now
with a profligate, now with a brute, or a selfish pig, now
with a spendthrift, now with an incapable who can not
earn living for one, much less for two, now with an old
man blasé and invalid? Truth's article, which begins
with the above-quoted sentences, has for its title 'man-
traps'; how about the 'woman-traps'? Who takes the
greatest risk in marriage and is most likely to appear as
a complainant in the divorce court? Or suppose that
the London Truth's 'good man' should turn up, and the
woman did not, would not, and could not love him, or
finally, that on some general principle of feminine ob-
stinacy she didn't want to marry at all? There are
men who do not choose to marry-can not women also
honorably choose not to marry?
"And in any of these contingencies, some of them
highly probable, what is woman to do but earn her liv-
ing in the world by industries to which God has fitted
her just as peculiarly as He has man, and from which
nothing excludes her but the mean prejudice and con-
temptible patronizing philosophy of those who would
shut women up to domestic life with men not worthy
of them?
"Of course, abstractly what the London Truth says
about the 'best use' of woman is true, but it is no truer
388
Eve's Daughters.
of her than it is of man. The best use to which a man
can be put is being a good husband and raising good
children. To raise a perfect generation is the whole
end of civilization. But the Truth would not accept
the same sauce for goose and gander. Its view of mar-
riage is that it constitutes the profession of one sex, but
not of the other. This is degrading to both. It raises
monstrosities of complacent selfishness among men who
regard that woman as deficient in womanliness who
does not look upon a life-long partnership with 'some
good man' as a sweet boon and the end of her being.
The class is larger in England than here who regard
woman as made for man, but not man for woman, and
who feel that the only way to insure the superiority of
one sex to the other is to distrust equality of opportuni-
ties and of educational advantages. This is the effect
upon men; upon women, it is different. It impresses
girls with the idea that marriage is necessary, and they
fall into a foolish panic lest they should 'get left.' These
are the ones who get so indecent in their struggle for
matrimony that they set the traps of which Truth com-
plains. The prevailing notion of society, which is that
of the London Truth, puts girls at a certain age in a
pitiful frame of mind, which is shared by their mothers.
It is less so now than formerly, and girls now spend in
educating themselves for self-support some of the years
which were formerly spent in angling for husbands and
Prince Charming.
389
worrying for fear they should not get a bite. But many
ill-starred marriages are contracted now, in the face of
great risks in the character of the man, which would be
saved if the young woman were assured of independent
position and was free to reject or to accept. Nothing
has done so much to cultivate domestic happiness in
America as the elevation of woman to an equality with
man in educational advantages and attainments and her
consequent advantage as a contracting party in matri-
mony. It elevates equally the single woman whose
social position was once deemed inferior to her mar-
ried sister's. It raises the standard of the home, be
cause it teaches that the perfect home is no less the
concern of man than of woman, and helps to correct the
conceit that man has outside of it any purpose in life
nobler or more important.'
I congratulate my reader and myself upon the pe-
rusal of an article which adds another to the many
proofs that wise, thoughtful men-men with hearts
and brains—are not our natural enemies. This sentence
is not an absurdity in view of the publication in one of
our most popular journals, of an elaborate essay upon
"The Natural Antagonism of the Sexes"-a paper to
which I have before referred. It has been extensively
copied, and as generally indorsed by the press, besides
being largely quoted in public and private speech.
According to this theory the Great Brotherhood of
390
Eve's Daughters.
Humanity would exclude the sisters.
From our
our child.
During the
hood we are the sheep, they the wolves.
age of "Pamela" and "Amanda Fitz-Allan" the legend
'Eternal vigilance is the price of purity" should have
been inscribed upon the baby-girl's pap-cup and bound,
phylactery-wise, about the forehead and wrist of the
damsel. In a very curious relic of that time, much
conned by our grandmothers—“A Father's Legacy to
his Daughters; By. Dr. Gregory"—we happen upon
numerous indices of this peculiar state of social ethics :-
"If you love him (i.e., the suitor), let me advise you
never to discover to him the extent of your love; no,
not although you marry him.
•
"This is an unpleasant truth, but it is my duty to
let you know it-violent love can not subsist, at least
can not be expressed for any time together, on both
sides. Nature, in this case, has laid the reserve on you."
The good Father, with "Allah-il-Allah" resigna-
tion, suggests no practical cure for the evil stated be-
low:-
"From the period of leaving school until her mar-
riage, the life of a female is generally little more than a
blank. She leaves school with expanded faculties, high
hopes, beating expectations, and ardor of application,
but not a suitable object upon which to expend them.
Thus she wastes lofty thoughts, and brilliant purposes,
and surprising powers on the dull earth or the deaf air.
Prince Charming.
391
She seems like some glorious temple, beautiful in archi-
tecture, costly in ornaments, rich in splendor, and radi-
ant in light, but wanting a shrine upon which to burn.
incense, and a GOD to adore."
Dr. Gregory and the London Truth man would
fraternize lovingly, had the birth of the former been
delayed a hundred and fifty years. But Jeremiah or
Calvin might laugh at the imagination of the didactic
doctor's devout horror were Frances Power Cobbe to
enunciate to his face her proposition, "First, human
beings, then women"; or the audacious writer in the
Republican” to offer his query, "If marriage is to be
held up to woman as her true profession, ought not man
to give her the social right of proposing marriage?"
((
Note, please! that our authors of To-day do not call
us "females." Also, that Dr. Gregory habitually, and
altogether innocently, does. This dissimilarity in the
use of terms tells the story of a century of progress.
Men are our brothers, and of our kind; not enemies or
even aliens.
'Indisputably," says Charlotte Bronté's finest wom-
an, "Shirley," "a great, good, handsome man is the
first of created things.'
Higher education for Woman does not unsex her,
provided the cultivation of heart keeps pace with that
of mind. The habit of, and capacity for fine analysis of
instinct and emotion, her insight of psychological and
392
Eve's Daughters.
physiological laws, ought to instruct her in juster appre-
ciation of the meaning of Sex, the true and noble
relations of Man and Woman. She should comprehend
that, in proportion to the development of the best
characteristics of each, it becomes the counterpart of
the other, the accordant Whole as GOD made it, “MAN
—in the image of GOD created He him. Male and
female created He them."
It is the figure of the broken coin, treasured by parted
lovers. If it be sacredly kept and carefully handled,
the severed edges unite without gap or ridged line after
years of separation.
I would have you the more thorough in your woman-
liness for having been true to yourself. The firm,
stately poise of your character need not detract from
the tenderness of your heart, the liveliness of your sym-
pathies. It is right, also, that in these later years the
silent side of your being should be growing and per-
fecting. You will cultivate the gentler graces of
patience and unselfishness the more assiduously for the
thought that you are forming and keeping yourself for
another. I would never tear from the girl's dreams
and the woman's hopes the Ideal Prince. Instead, I
would encourage her to bring herself up to the level of
his excellence; would have her keep herself for him in
all sanctity and entirety. I have called this consecra-
tion of the Innermost your "silent side." Guard it
Prince Charming.
393
from rude and heedless intrusion. The badinage of
mixed companies on this theme, the bandying of jest
and equivoque based upon Love, Courtship, and Mar-
riage, are sacrilegious handling of holy vessels not far
removed from the impiety of Belshazzar's Feast.
Have a jealous care of the purity of your Ideal lest
you should be too ready to identify it with a very com-
monplace Reality. Impatience, which we have con-
fessed is an essentially feminine trait; imagination, and
the longing for affection that, oftener than any other
feeling, absorbs every emotion into itself, press the girl
on to this catastrophe. With the zeal and ingenuity of
the fossil-hunter, who constructs a megatherium or
Elephas primigenus from a single vertebral joint, she,
upon the discovery in the acquaintance of a day of one
characteristic of the Prince, hastens to invest him with
all lovablenesses and virtues pertaining to the "bright
particular” of her dreams. In a tremor of ecstasy she
arranges drapery and mask so adroitly as to deceive
herself—never anybody else—and falls down to worship
the image she has made. The annals of human error
may be challenged to produce a like number of cases of
equal and humiliating infatuation with those of this
kind that we witness about us daily.
"What possessed her to marry that fellow?" is a
singularly expressive form of the familiar inquiry.
Seen through the roseate haze of an undisciplined
394
Eve's Daughters.
fancy, the weaver is princely, "a sweet-faced man, ‘a
proper man as one shall see in a summer's day, a most
lovely, gentlemanlike man." In the white light of the
high noon of Marriage, Bottom's snout and ears loom
up to a height that shades the future into worse than
the blackness of death.
As a prime measure for averting this irremediable
evil, I strongly commend the frank and courteous as-
sociation, at home and in general society, of young
men and young women. It is the girl who has known
but few men, and received scanty attention from those
few, who jumps at her first offer. The old, old story,
however clumsily told, is, in the novices' ears, what
Bottom's semi-human bray was to Titania in her awake-
ning after the juice of the "little Western flower'
had been squeezed upon her eyelids.
"What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?"
sighs the elfin queen.
Our girl mistakes the tumult of gratified vanity for a
worthier emotion. The delusion passes almost as
swiftly as did Titania's, but the disenchantment is life-
long sorrow.
Miss Phelps has this exquisite touch of natural and
most feminine feeling in Avis's reverie, while other
girls, with "shy expectant faces," talked in her pres-
ence of love and lovers :-
Prince Charming.
395
"It was pleasant to remember that she was not un-
lovely or unlovable. Sometimes, when she sat before
her easel forecasting her fair future, she felt suddenly
glad, with a downright womanish thrill, that she was so
sure of the beauty and patience of her purpose; that
she was not to live a solitary life because no other had
been open to. her. Perhaps the woman does not live for
whom the kingdoms of earth and the glory of them could.
blunt the tooth of that one little poisoned thought.”
It is the man who has held aloof from manœuvering
mammas and over-willing daughters, priding himself
upon his sagacity and invulnerability, that, in an un-
guarded hour, falls a dupe to the cheapest and coarsest.
scheming.
Scorn-with disdain born of genuine self-respect and
modesty to look upon that man as a possible husband
whose attentions to you have never passed the limit of
common courtesy. Should he manifest a decided pref-
erence for your companionship, keep heart whole and
head steady by the reflection that it is altogether pos-
sible that he may like and admire as a friend a woman
he has never thought of marrying. I wish I could im-
press you with a just idea of the comfort and profit
such a friendship would bring to you; what a help and
delight you might be to the man who, not having been
born your brother, yet feels for you as for a sister. It is
not derogatory to you in any respect that he does not
396
Eve's Daughters.
love you with that utterly different sentiment which he
should have for the woman he woos for wifehood.
You attract and hold one set of his affections, she
another. The fact does not argue inferiority in either
of you.
I am often asked " Do you believe in the possibility
of the existence of pure, disinterested friendship be-
tween a young man and a young woman, neither of
whom is married or betrothed to another person?"
As in my own existence! I believe, likewise, that
this is oftener unmixed by alloy such as the clashing
interests of two women are apt to introduce into their
intimacy than we, as women, are willing to acknowledge.
There is, on the part of the man, an element of protect-
ing gallantry; on the girl's, of physical dependence,
which harmonize delightfully, giving to their associa-
tion the charm of romance without its dangers. One
of the parties to the compact is mellowed and refined
in character and deportment by the association, the
other made stronger and usually wiser.
"How, then, shall I know the Prince?" I hear in
various accents of perplexity.
Leave the watch-tower and set about the duties al-
ready appointed for head, heart, and hands. Banish
dreaming by doing until, in the fullness of time, the
Prince knocks, of his own free will, at your door, and
announces himself in his proper character. Do not
Prince Charming.
397
force Love's fruitage into insipid maturity. Still less
suffer every chance comer to handle the ripening peach
to see if it will suit his royal fancy, until the down is
all gone before the rightful claimant appears. So far
as in you lies, meet all men who deserve your courtesy
upon the same plane of gracious civility. Keep your-
self heart-free long enough to weigh well the recom-
mendations of competing suitors and a harder task-
keep yourself fancy-free until calm reason assures you
that he who asks for your best treasure merits it
upon other grounds than the accident of his discovery
of your superiority to the rest of your sex.
It is no sign that you ought to marry a man that he
wants to marry you.
He pays you a compliment by the application, and
this you should recognize gently and gravely, if you
decline the offer. Make him comprehend that it gives
you pain to reject an honest love, and, having definitely
dismissed the suit, keep his secret. It is never yours.
unless he first reveals it to others. Many women re-
tain as faithful friends those who once sought them
vainly in marriage.
It is vulgar and shameful that hosts of people, even
in refined society, are utterly incapable of imagining
that a woman can smile brightly and fearlessly in the
face of a man she likes heartily as a friend, but whom
she has never dreamed of as a possible suitor,—whom
398
Eve's Daughters.
she would never marry under the strongest importu-
nity. The plums that fall when the branches are
slightly jarred are not the soundest ones.
New Jersey
fruit-growers spread cloths on the grass to catch these,
and gathering them up, throw them into the fire to de-
stroy the curculio eggs and larvæ. The ripe, rich,
sweet fruit with the bloom on is picked by hand, and
gingerly, not to mar beauty and flavor.
Better, dear girls-oh, how much better—to keep the
unclaimed heart sound and true, rounded and fresh-
ened by the quiet loves of home and humanity, making
of your single life all that GOD means it to be, when
He in infinite wisdom withholds that which you fancy
would, if granted, have filled your cup of happiness to
overflowing, than to take your fate into your own pre-
sumptuous hands. A pitiable creature is she who lets
youth and its opportunities for good and for gladness
glide away while she leans a strained ear against the
door, hearkening to footsteps that pass her threshold.
without halting. Most pitiable is she who does vio-
lence to common sense, nature, purity, virtue-by mar-
rying one she would never have elected to the highest
office in the gift of womanhood, but for the fear that if
she let slip this "chance" she might never marry.
"Chance!" How I loathe the accepted phrase!
There is no chance in the Universe ruled by GOD. If
the word signifies room, time, occasion for work for
Prince Charming.
399
Him and His children, your hands may be worthily
filled without outraging your womanhood by selling
yourself in the shambles.
Choose as the partner of your heart, your home,
your life a good, sound, clean-hearted man, who loves.
you and wins your love by the development of tastes
congenial with yours; a man whom, as a friend, you
could esteem and admire were he the husband of an-
other. That is a test that would shake a mere fancy
into thin air. Be slow to believe yourself "in love."
The reality is a beautiful, yet an awful thing. It is
putting your life out of your own keeping. Marriage,
even to one you love deeply and sincerely, is the risk
of all that time can give you of bliss, maybe of heav-
en's hopes as well, upon the utterance of a dozen sen-
tences—a speech not two minutes in length.
There are men and women who, without fault of their
own, are morally inhibited from matrimony. A trans-
parent American affectation finds expression in the re-
mark of mothers and friends:-
“Of course, girls and young men in marrying think
of nothing beyond the happiness of the present. It
never occurs to them that there may be a generation
following this,” etc., etc.
If this squeamish fiction had been less popular a
century ago, we of this generation would have a better
"chance" of long and useful lives. Girls and the men.
400
Eve's Daughters.
who woo them are silly and selfish if they do not think
of the possibilities of inconvenience and discomfort in
the household consequent upon the ill-health of wife or
husband; the prospect of early bereavement to one or
the other; the more serious probability of transmitting
disease to children yet unborn.
Almost forty years since I hearkened while playing
with my doll to a conversation between several ladies
who had attended a wedding the previous evening.
The bride was beautiful and amiable, the groom a fine.
young fellow and very much in love. The alliance was
highly eligible, the "occasion" gratifying.
"I am afraid she is very delicate," ventured one
voice. "Her father and mother both died of consump-
tion, you know."
The observation was like a chip tossed upon the cur-
rent of general approbation. The waves sucked it un-
der and out of sight the next second. Last week,
walking in a city cemetery, I found it again—a fulfilled
prophecy, emphasized by eight tomb-stones like glar-
ing exclamation-points. Of nine children born to the
happy couple, seven sleep with the mother under the
daisies. She lived to see her forty-sixth year. All of
the seven daughters grew to woman's estate. Six died
between the ages of twenty and twenty-five of con-
sumption.
The progeny of consumptives, or scrofulous or can-
1
Prince Charming.
401
cerous parents, of a succession of intermarriages of first
cousins, of insane persons when lunacy has been already
transmitted from more than a single generation or
branch of the same family, have no right to make
wretched other and innocent lives. Let the curse die
out in their unwedded persons.
In the firm resolve that this shall be so; in the prayer-
ful desire to eliminate so far as in them lies that much
of evil from the creation already groaning and travail-
ing together in pain; in the cheerful obedience through
lonely years to the Divine beckonings to duty and toil
unsolaced by the dearest of human loves,—herein is
heroism which the righteous Judge of all will not fail
to reward.
It is Christlikeness; a true following of the Home-
less One who "pleased not Himself."


CHAPTER XXII.
MARRIED.
"I never go to a bridal that it does not almost break my heart."-
N. P. WILLIS.
"To repress a harsh answer; to confess a fault; to stop, right or
wrong, in the midst of self-defense in gentle submission, sometimes
require a struggle like life and death, but these three efforts are the
golden threads with which domestic happiness is woven."-Caroline
GILMAN.

HE old-fashioned novel always ended with
marriage. So strong is the influence of habit
upon us that we satirize now the sensational
fiction that begins with the wedding-day and
enters, at the door-sill of Love-in-a-Cottage, upon a series
of misunderstandings, jealousies, and despairs.
The pessimist philosopher affects to see grave signïfi-
cance in this change of literary fashions. The Woman
Question, he broadly affirms, has wrought upon the
feminine mind until the wife is no longer content to
merge her individuality in that of her lord. She looks
Married.
403
upon marriage as one of a flight of steps by which she
is to aggrandize herself; as a stage in evolution, not the
perfected condition. In the grandly-simple old times,
she was the weak left hand—thus proceeds the illustra-
tion-delicate in shape and color, by reason of compara- ·
tive disuse, glorified by the wedding-ring that typified its
nearness to the heart. Shielded by the strong, sinewy
right hand that did life's work and dealt life's blows, the
feebler member was something to be loved and cherished.
A beneficent Creator never intended that the Whole
Man, formed by the union of complementary parts,
should be ambidextrous. In this degenerating epoch,
Woman-to alter the figure-having struggled to her
feet, fights, like an unruly child, against him who would
bear her in his arms.
With the brief and, I hope, pertinent suggestion that
He who made hands and feet perhaps knew their uses
better than do His interpreters, we will settle ourselves
to a quiet practical talk about your new state, its trials,
its responsibilities, and its helpfulness in lifting you to
a higher plane of thought and feeling.
Allow me to assume, if you please, that you love
your husband with affection which, from the moment
you laid your hand in his at the altar, shut out the pos-
sibility of ever feeling the same, while he lives, for any
other man. A loveless marriage is an unchaste union.
This is a hard saying in some ears, but it is as true as
404
Eve's Daughters.
that there walk our streets thousands of women who
live by the illegal violation of the seventh command-
ment. She who shrinks in positive physical repug-
nance from the lover's kiss; who feels no drawing
toward him beyond the cordial liking she experiences
for several others; who sickens at the imagination of
the constant companionship of wedded life—may re-
main, while single, his warm, affectionate friend. If
she marries him in defiance of maidenly instinct, she
becomes mistress, not wife. No considerations of
worldly policy, no amount of parental influence, not
all the blessings of stoléd priest and the applause of
those who commend the "excellent match," can change
the character of the sin. The connection is unnatural,
impure, and unsafe. The chained heart, the outraged
instincts are ever liable to break into open rebellion.
These are the wives who have platonic adorers and de-
voted cicisbei. Into the secret of their loathings and
their loves pray that your soul may never enter.
"Before marriage," we read in the Spectator, "we can
not be too inquisitive and discerning in the faults of the
person belovéd, nor after it, too dim-sighted and super-
ficial."
The usually witty-wise essayist might apply the con-
cluding brace of adjectives to his own adage. People
with sound eyes must, of necessity, discover faults upon
nearer inspection which had been hidden up to that
Married.
405
time, more by the comely usages of etiquette than
through a deliberate desire to deceive. The husband
may, with the incurable naïveté of his sex, be the first
to indicate that he is disenchanted. The wife, if reason-
ably quick-witted, feels it first, however well she may
conceal her suspicions, and then her conviction. If very
youthful, very passionate, or very silly, she resents,
secretly or outwardly, the intermission of the worship
that has throughout the courtship idealized her into
forgetfulness of her identity with the girl she was before
love became her life.
It is a shock to her to you, my lately-wedded audi-
tor-to see your bridegroom put on his every-day coat
on the morning after your return from the bridal tour,
and whistle himself down-stairs to breakfast “just as if
he were not a married man!" It is an affront that he
buries himself for as much as ten minutes behind the
newspaper, although he may preface the deed by an
apology, and “only wants to glance at the telegraphic
column, or the stock-list," or the something else that is
sure to be there, a grinning imp of discord that defies
you from the damp sheet. He will never know-he
never ought to guess, how many tears you shed in the
first quarter of the first year during which you bear his
name. You wonder if he really loves you-if he ever
loved you, when he can take such lively interest in a
world that is all changed to you. You dread lest you
406
Eve's Daughters.
are losing your hold on his affections when he unluckily
forgets the commission entrusted to him with the "Good-
bye" kiss at the morning leave-taking. And when at a
party to which you could not accompany him—say, a
club-supper-he overstays the hour set for his return,
because he "fell into talk of old times-or politics-
with some of the fellows and really never suspected how
time was passing," you walk the floor in an agony
of
desolation and compose your own epitaph in bitterness
of spirit, dwelling especially upon the clause-"FIRST
WIFE OF JOHN—”
Men make very merry over these episodes of early
married life. I can not-any more than I can amuse
myself with the real but baseless terrors of a weeping
child. Marriage is such a momentous affair, such a
portentous All to us that we tremble at the remotest
menace of peril which may wreck hope and heart. The
folly of your fears consists in exaggeration of their
cause. The wine of your husband's happiness settles
sooner upon its lees than does yours. Accustomed to
contemplate the actualities of Life, with critical note
of their value; to keep the emotional part of his nature.
out of the sight of the associates of business-hours,—
in adjusting the machinery of the day into the old run-
ning order, he fashions his demeanor accordingly, with
never a dream that you object to the resumption of his
former routine. If he does not spend hours in swear-
Married,
407
ing how dearly he loves you and how willingly he
would die for you, he proves both on that mighty
"silent side" of his nature by redoubled diligence in
the calling that is to bring comfort and beauty into
your sheltered nest,-to make that shelter sure. Do
not be guilty of the frightful mistake of being jealous
of his devotion to business; the business for which
you care so little, but which stands with him for re-
spectability, honor, wealth,—the happiness of wife and
children. Regard it, instead, as the "chance" the
Father has given him to do a man's work in the world,
and help him to do it to the utmost of your ability.
Study his profession or craft in general principle and
in detail, until you can converse intelligently with him
of the schemes that engage his brain and hands. En-
courage him to "talk out " his cares and worries before
you try to soothe them. Extract the splinter before
applying the salve. When the heart of your husband
can safely trust in you in this sense no less than in the
keeping of his honor, you have bound him to you by
ties that will outlast beauty and sprightliness. Better
lose his affection than his respect.
I want you to re-read that sentence and study its
meaning. If more wives acted upon the pregnant les-
son it conveys we should have fewer careless husbands,
-careless in talk of women and in the practice of do-
mestic virtues.
408
Eve's Daughters.
As you are your husband's standard of wifely fidelity,
be also his criterion of purity of language and thought.
Elevate, not commonize, his estimate of womanhood.
Show, by silent gravity, that whatever approximates
ribald talk distresses you. In becoming your mate in
the nearest and tenderest relation of the human species,
he should be more, not less, the gentleman than when
as a gallant, he was the pink of courtesy. From the
day your Lares and Penates are installed, let the gos-
pel of conventionalities be established likewise as the
rule of your household. Dress, talk and keep the
house for him as carefully and tactfully as for a stranger.
Do not make him boorish or awkward by reserving the
gentler forms of address, the fine linen and best china
for visitors. Unless he is exceptionally au fait to tra-
ditional by-laws of social usage, you are better informed
on such subjects than he. Initiate him into these
minor graces of polite society gradually and ingeni-
ously, with no appearance of schooling or dictation.
This is an undertaking requiring much wisdom, or
rather finesse. If John has not been reared in the
house with his mother and sisters, he will be rough in
seeming to your finer perceptions. He will probably
have "ways."
I knew of an else irreproachable spouse who, having
been born and reared up to the date of his entering col-
lege, upon a farm, would, after he became a successful
Married.
409
lawyer and a city householder, insist upon washing his
hands at the kitchen sink when he came home to lunch
each noon.
Servants stared and tossed contemptuous
heads; his wife kindly expostulated and good-humor-
edly ridiculed the practice. He "liked to be free-and-
easy in his own house," and each day marched straight
from the front door through the handsome hall, into
the back entry, and so into the kitchen. There he
washed face and head under the cold water faucet,
scrubbed his hands with yellow soap, wiped them on
the roller-towel, consulted the thermometer in the rear
hall, and presented a smiling, satisfied countenance in
the dining-room. The wife writhed in secret and pon-
dered long. A woman's house is her kingdom, its
decencies and proprieties as precious in her sight as
national integrity to an upright ruler. The behavior
of the master was a palpable misdemeanor, yet he
would neither acknowledge nor abate the nuisance.
Finally, during his absence from town, she had a
stationary wash-stand, with hot and cold water pipes,
set up under the window in the back entry; a roller-
towel rack screwed upon the wall at one side, and hung
a new large combination of barometer and thermometer
on the other. The arrangement was
66 a great conven-
ience for the children when they came in from school"
she showed her lord on his return. It was called, “the
children's wash-stand," but in less than a month their
410
Eve's Daughters.
father, uninvited, halted there habitually to "look
at the thermometer," and in an absent-minded way,
washed his hands in the convenient bowl.
Nevertheless, do not "manage" your husband when
fair and open means will serve your end. The sweetest-
tempered man will revolt at the suspicion of wheedling
and strategy. He may admire your cleverness, but he
will not love and trust you the more when he detects
your wiles. Above all, never play upon his tenderness
for you in order to accomplish a given purpose. State
your wishes frankly and pleasantly; urge them by a
show of your reasons for expressing them, and, if de-
nied, bear the disappointment bravely.
Never nag! The inability of women to let sleeping
dogs lie is only surpassed by the teasing tenacity with
which they will twit a man with some trifling sin of
omission, and bore him by begging for a coveted good
he can not supply if he would, would not if he could,
and should not grant if he would and could.
The solemn dignity of Holy Writ is never degraded
by sarcastic comment from those who held the pen.
Yet we wonder how-being men of like passions with
our husbands, they refrained from marginal annotations
against such passages as these :
"And she wept before him the seven days while the
feast lasted, and it came to pass on the seventh day, that
he told her, because she lay sore upon him.”
Married.
4II
And again, in the same narrative :—
"And it came to pass when she pressed him daily with
her words and urged him so that his soul was vexed unto
death, that he told her all his heart."
Poor, soft-hearted, big-limbed giant! How could he
help it?
Be too proud and too honorable to owe to tedious
rasping with a file that which you can not get at with
honest keys. When you can not win your husband's
acquiescence in your schemes by a fair exposition of
your views, yield gracefully and let him alone!
I speak here of affairs that do not involve moral or
religious principle. No human being has the right-
no human law can endue him with the authority to
legislate for another's conscience, when in opposition
to his decree, that other can plead-"“Thus saith the
LORD!" You may not sin in word or deed, or tempo-
rize with sacred duties, even at your husband's behest.
You belonged to GOD before you belonged to him.
Our reference is to the numerous subjects of discussion
brought to the surface by the ordinary course of family
life;—the ordering of household machinery, personal
expenses, social obligations and the like. Define your
desires on these points, and if these are combated,
calmly and courteously explain what you consider are
your rights. After this, I repeat-if one or the other
must give up, let it be yourself.
412
Eve's Daughters.
The masculine idea of mutual concession is aptly
given in the anecdote of the man who, in urging the
wisdom of conciliatory measures in the married state,
told of his first and only open quarrel with his wife.
"When we were furnishing our house she wanted
crimson furniture, and I, blue. We wrangled pretty
hotly for a while, but at last, we compromised on the
blue. Since then, we have gotten along swimmingly
together."
The rule I have reiterated is a safe one. I do not
say there is justice in it, but to suffer wrong meekly is
preferable to continual bickerings and heart-festers.
Magnanimity becomes a noble soul better than selfish
triumph. When inclined to be severely critical of your
spouse's defects, let me-speaking out of the depths of
personal experience-recommend as palliative, if not
cure of your uncharitableness, a judicious course of intro-
spection. Examine yourself for an hour with his eyes,
-judge your foibles by a man's tests-and forgive him!
All these are petty troubles; at their worst but
wrinkles in the lining of the shoes so lately fitted to
your feet. You will get used to them, or time will
wear them flat and smooth if you will be patient. You
will ignore them when you reflect upon what are the
actual sorrows of wedded life. Perhaps it would be
more strictly correct to drop the plural here.
True, some husbands are drunken and dishonest and
Married.
413
brutal. But so are some fathers, and their daughters
suffer as keenly in and for them as wives do on account
of their partners' disgrace and cruelty. The law inter-
feres in the extremity of either case. Marital infidelity
is a sin and a woe, sui generis. The anguish of the
"woman who is conscious that she has been thus sinned
against may well appeal in the exceeding sorrowfulness
of the cry:-
"Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold and
see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow which is
done unto me?"
Women live through it, and their most intimate
friends hear nothing of it? Yes! because they must!
It has driven more to madness, to suicide, to desperate
destruction of their own souls than all other goads.
combined. I wish I could assure you with truth,
I would ex-
loving young wife, that the crime is rare.
change years of my own life if I could, to regain the
faith in the general practice of the virtues of constancy
and continence which was mine at your age. Having
been reared in a quiet GOD-fearing community where
married flirts were not considered respectable, and
known violations of marriage-vows were banned as
criminal, I have sustained a long series of disagreeable
shocks at the sight of the growing tolerance, or apathy
with respect to these that has almost reduced trans-
gressions to peccadilloes.
414
Eve's Daughters.
Two truths are incontrovertible.
The undivided
allegiance of your affections and life is due to him to
whom your nuptial-vow was plighted, "until Death do
you part." And if ever a rule should work both ways,
this ought. It is the ordinance of GOD and your heart
adds, “Amen!"
Do not be easily or hastily persuaded that your hus-
band is untrue to you, however appearances may assert
this. The felt need of recreation is more manifest in
man than in woman, probably because his studies are
severer, his seasons of consecutive labor more arduous.
Our work, if "never done," has little breaks here and
there. We can slip in half an hour's chat, an hour's
walk, dip for five minutes into a restful book, and
catch ten minutes' doze in the "betweenities." When
office and warehouse are shut at evening, the workman
and his employer are masters of their time until next
morning. The weight is lifted entirely, and the re-
bound of a healthy nature is strong. The released toiler
wants amusement, and of a more decided flavor than
the mild refreshment which satisfies you. So in the va-
cations, of which you know experimentally little after
your graduation. You may not comprehend the relish
for boating, fishing, hunting, billiards, traveling, or
whatever other form his hobby may assume. If you
are a sensible woman, you will tolerate it to the full.
If a loving wife, you should simulate the sympathy
Married.
415
you do not feel-not only because John is the happier
for the harmless diversion, but because he will work
better and live longer for it. I have seen many a man
soured into moroseness, many a good fellow spoiled
into a machine for money-making, because the presid-
ing genius of his home derided his sporting fancies,
frowned on his post-prandial cigar, criticised and
snubbed the friends of his bachelorhood, and put her
foot down-metaphorically, at least—upon riding-horse
and pointer. "Love me, love my dog," is undoubt-
edly a masculine dictum.
Have charity, moreover, for John's enjoyment in the
company of a bright girl. That he jests with her, seeks
her in public assemblies, discusses books and current
events with her in a serious corner, that he wants you
to become the friend of "one of the most charming
women he has met in an age "-so far from being prima
facie evidence of his disaffection to you, is almost pos-
itive proof that the whole affair is as innocuous as a glass
of iced soda-water. He might know and meet her
weekly for fifty years without endangering your place
in his affections. He may boldly protest that he is
"very fond of her," and mean all he says, and love
you the more truly for liking one who ministers to his
innocent pleasure. Illicit love does not assume this
guise so often as to be recognized by such signs as I
have described.
416
Eve's Daughters.
Should you unhappily discover that your husband
visits clandestinely and frequently one whom he sel-
dom names to you, and then carelessly or slightingly;
that letters pass regularly between the two which are
kept out of your sight; that the stolen glances and shy
avoidance of the semblance of intimacy in public are
like the manœuvers of a pair of secretly-betrothed lov-
ers-you have the right to know what it means. As
the best friend of the indiscreet or erring man, it is
your duty to speak openly of your fears and warn him
of the danger to your happiness and his reputation aris-
ing from his imprudence. That you may perform this
duty aright, summon the aid of philosophy, good sense,
and religion to support you in the ordeal. Restrain so
far as you can the exhibition of violent jealousy.
Plead earnestly and lovingly, not angrily. In losing
command of your temper you put yourself in the
wrong forthwith, and lose by so much the weight of a
just cause. Should your remonstrance be ineffectual,
take up the heavy cross appointed for you to carry, and
ask of the tender pity of the Father daily grace to live.
Do not descend to espionage and adroit snares for the
detection of the guilty parties. As I have said, better
lose love than respect. Moreover, a wife thus situated
can do nothing to arrest the evil. The utmost she can
accomplish is to teach her sinning lord superior cunning
in the prosecution of his liaison, while widening the gulf
Married.
417
between her and himself, or precipitate the day of dis-
covery in the which her name as linked with his will
be tarnished.
Some of the grandest women I have ever seen have
grown in depth of feeling and mind into heroines—in
Christian graces into saintliness, under this crucial dis-
cipline. It brings out the best as the worst of a wife.
It is a received article of belief with roués that she who
doubts her husband's faithfulness to her, is already half
won by another. The women of whom this may be
predicted are vastly outnumbered by the noble army
of martyrs who, for the sake of their children and of
society, through the might of a love that can not be
wholly withdrawn from the unworthy object, live in
their husbands' homes loyal wives and dumb victims,
and, by the sublimity of their devotion, silence scandal
itself—almost redeem the names they bear from the
disgrace of others' misdeeds.
Of whom the world is not worthy! My spirit bows
in unspoken homage in the presence of a wronged wife
who yet makes no open sign of her desolation.
I said as much the other day to a good man, a gal-
lant Christian, who loves and honors the wife of his
choice. I added, furthermore:—
"I hold fast to the old-fashioned belief in the one-
ness, the absoluteness of the marriage-tie-the love and
418
Eve's Daughters.
fidelity of one man toward one woman, and that woman
his wife."
He shook his head doubtfully:
"Ah! that is because you are a woman!
So be it!
91


CHAPTER XXIII.
SHALL BABY BE?
"There is a steady check in an old civilization on the fertility of
the abler classes. The improvident and unambitious are those who
chiefly keep up the breed. So the race gradually degenerates, be-
coming with each successive generation less fitted for a high civiliza-
tion, although it retains the external appearance of one."-FRANCIS
DALTON, "Hereditary Genius.”
"The startling differences between the America of Washington and
the America of Andrew Johnson, may be greatly traced to the immi-
gration of old days consisting of Cavaliers and Pilgrim Fathers, and
the recent immigration being made up of Irish cottiers and German
boors, and loose or criminal fugitives from everywhere.”—W. R.
GREG, "Enigmas of Life."

F the American nation—as such-is to main-
tain a continued and vigorous existence, it is
by and through the birth of American infants.
These must be borne by American women.
Upon the bodily, moral and intellectual health of the
parents of this generation depends the quality of that
which is to follow it in close succession.
These are principles of political economy formulated
420
Eve's Daughters.
in varying terms by prominent sociologists and physi-
ologists of our times, but generally commended by
them to the consideration of the sterner sex,-perhaps
upon the supposition that every good citizen is master
in his own house. This course may have had a reason-
able excuse at a date when women, particularly wives
and mothers, declared their indifference to politics and
were vain of their ignorance of the difference between
"polity" and "policy," and the leading questions of
the most exciting Presidential canvass. Now, when
the cry for women's suffrage is waxing loud and yet
more loud;—when the gentlest belle has "opinions,"
and thrifty housewives declaim against taxation with-
out representation, it is absurd for us to feign irre-
sponsibility.
Sweeping aside dust and cobwebs with one stroke of
our Common Sense besom,-ridding the vexed ques-
tion of sophistry, special pleading and the vituperation
which passes with untrained minds for argument, let us
take up boldly what slang calls "a bottom fact."
Is it not that women want to vote, but are not wil-
ling to make voters? That with an impatience that
shortens sight and dizzies judgment they account a seat
on the throne where they can be seen and heard more
honorable than the power behind it? That policy is
not only short-sighted, but ignoble which sacrifices the
great and prospective good of the many to the present
Shall Baby Be?
421
aggrandizement of the one,-be the individual man or
woman.
"I shall be able to have my own way during my life-
time," said Louis XV., vicious and imbecile.
pity my grandson!"
"But I
The painted harridan at his side was ready with the
bon mot that has won infamous notoriety:
"Aprés nous, le déluge!"
The "strong-minded" woman accepting the social
vantage-ground of wifehood, but protesting positively
against the incumbrance of a family that would clog
her efforts in behalf of the emancipation of her sisters
and the elevation of humanity, echoes with all the mute
force of example the sentiment of La Pompadour. She
and her guild are toiling in the blocked-up doorways of
the Augean stables with reformatory spade and rake
and broom, in place of doing their best to conduct
against the massed filth a stream of power, stronger
humanity that would make clean work of the premises
in a single generation. When in every American house-
hold is growing up a troop of brave boys, robust in body
and clean of heart,—of girls as brave, as sensible and as
sound, getting ready to take their places in the land soon.
to be vacated by those whose faces are already turned.
toward the sun-setting,—we may hear, without a fear-
some thrill, the tale that through one port alone, there
is debouched daily upon our land a flood of fifteen
422
Eve's Daughters.
hundred foreigners. This incoming tide is composed,
according to our English writer, "of Irish cottiers,
German boors, and loose or criminal fugitives from
everywhere."
The same Great Heart says elsewhere:-" I am not
prepared to give up this life as a 'bad job' and to
look for reward, compensation, virtue and happiness
solely to another. I distinctly refuse to believe in in-
evitable evils. I recognize in the rectification of exist-
ing wrong and the remedy of prevailing wretchedness
the work which is given us to do. For this we are to
toil and not to toil in vain."
Our grandmothers bore many children. Not-fair-
ness obliges me to say-in obedience to the lofty sense.
of duty I would inculcate as the lesson of this chapter,
but because they could not help themselves, and had
an impression, based upon some unwritten moral law,
that it would not be right to prevent it if they could.
The pains and penalties of fertility were no lighter for
them than for their granddaughters. In fact, they were
far heavier. The advance of medical science in the
branch of obstetrics has been vast during the past cent-
ury. The "sacred primal curse of their sex was
reckoned a very curse, and endured with shame and
loathing. But-"Wives, submit yourselves unto your
own husbands," stood out in threatening relief upon
the Statute Book, and as rendered by them was not to
99
Shall Baby Be?
423
be evaded. "Another!" groaned gossips in concert,
when a tenth or eleventh olive-shoot was added to a
neighbor's responsibilities. And "She ought to be
thankful, poor thing!" when an infant came, still-
born, into a world where it was not wanted.
But the little ones continued to make their appear-
ance upon a mundane stage, too fast in many homes
for their own good and the mother's strength, and by a
merciful law of Divine husbandry, the weaker plants
were often transplanted to a Nursery where neglect and
mistakes are impossible. These were mourned in all
sincerity. It was a saying then as now that the "little
things bring their love with them." Mothers reared
the survivors wisely-according to their lights; enjoyed
their youth, and in their own old age were comforted
by their dutiful offices. With the march of other re-
forms, “Women's Rights" fell into line.
"We are men's equals and will be owned by them as
such," was the first platform.
When this was granted—with a few reasonable limi-
tations-by the major part of masculine humanity,
came, "In all things save cultivated brute force we are
your superiors. We claim your homage."
The easy-tempered among those whom we-not they
-assume are our opponents, shrug their shoulders, and
let the case go by default.
"Give them their own way, and they will live the
424
Eve's Daughters.
longer," is their motto. And they make light of it,
going their ways, one to his farm, another to his mer-
chandise.
The pugnacious make a stand, harking back to St.
Paul, and even to Abraham and Sarah—“ Whose daugh-
ters ye are so long as ye do well and are not afraid with
any amazement.”
(The New Version has it, "not put in fear by any
terror.")
Weak men who can not hold their own with their
proper sex, and unballasted radicals train with the band
of seditious women; accept offices in their societies,
add bass voices to the shrill clamor for "uncontrolled
enfranchisement.”
This hubbub is folly and beneath the dignity of gen-
uine womanhood. We are not rebellious serfs, and it
may be safely affirmed that whenever we have proved
ourselves capable of filling any position with honor to
it and to us, there have not been wanting true, mag-
nanimous men, ready with their meed of praise to en-
courage us in the venture. It is when the feet of clay
appear beneath sacerdotal or queenly vestments that
they sneer as they should. We do not usurp the
functions of men when we develop and employ to the
best advantage the intellectual faculties we enjoy in
common with them. We do attempt this asinine feat
by feigning ourselves to be sexless beings fitted by
Shall Baby Be?
425
their deformity to do the work appointed to the entire
race, and eager to undertake it. Always excepting that
part of it which men can not perform, to wit, the bear-
ing, the nursing, and the rearing of those who are to
carry on the work of the species in years to come.
Is this bald—unwomanly—is it non-progressive talk?
To what other delusion shall we then attribute the
rapid and steady decline in the number of children born
of American parents, and the equally notorious fact
that this is most marked in what are known as our
"better classes"? Are we, after all our boast of superior
physical culture, feebler and more cowardly than those
who gave birth to our parents, or than our parents
themselves? Are we Malthusian converts who fear to
swell the population of our half-peopled continent be-
yond the capacity of the land to furnish subsistence for
the teeming multitudes? Or, are we so intensely and
secretly conscious of our mental and moral defects that
we dare not perpetuate them in our offspring?
Bear with me while we come to closer quarters in this
disquisition.
Briefly and directly, we may refer the objections of
young married couples to the birth of children to them-
selves to certain causes:-
First (and most respectable of all) the dread of trans-
mitting organic diseases to the next generation. The
like scruple should have kept the afflicted person
426
Eve's Daughters.
single. He or she has no right to write another "child-
less"; to force upon that one an unmerited burden.
If, however, this wrong has been done, the second
wrong will not make it right. The further evil of dis-
eased progeny should be avoided by periodical conti-
nence.
Second. Doubt as to the ability of the parents to
maintain reputably more children than they already
have, or indeed, any at all.
Quarles, a quaint old prosaic poet, who had thirteen
children of his own, is indignant with the faithless
father who can not trust the Lord for the board and
clothes of those He sends. He is nearer the truth than
the very-far-seeing ones who rival "Clever Alice" of
German folk-lore in their prevision of possible calamity.
It is to be regretted that the seers, while celibate, had
not included children among the contingents of matri-
mony, and shirked the risk. It is a greater pity that,
peering into the dim recesses of the far future, they had
not espied the miseries of a desolate old age in the
which the riches they have pawned their soul to obtain
will mock their loneliness and be a tempting lure to
swarms of greedy time-servers, impatient for their de-
cease and the accruing legacies.
•
This excuse is the cover for other and meaner scru-
ples than the apprehension of want or privation on the
part of the dear little improbables. Childless people get
Shall Baby Be?
427
rich faster-ceteris paribus—than those who have more
mouths to feed, more backs to clothe. It is customary
with these long-headed philanthropists to limit their
contributions to the world's population to one, or, at
most, two specimens of their kind, who usually carry
out the law of heredity by growing up into selfish and
narrow men and women. There is no better educator
of the affections and generous graces than a large fam-
ily. He who loves worldly substance so fondly that he
can not endure the prospect of lessening his hoard by
dividing it with his babes, is not likely to beget a large-
souled heir, or to rear him in the practice of the nobler
virtues.
Third. People "hate to be troubled with children."
The husband of this class would "hate" the annoyance
of an ailing wife. The wife would account an invalid
husband a nuisance, and is not ashamed to avow that
her weak nature recoils with horror inconceivable from
the inconveniences of pregnancy and child-birth pain.
Each is essentially selfish-a lover of fleshly ease, and
so incapable of appreciating the privilege of paternity,
the sweet dignity of motherhood, that remonstrance
would be ineffectual even did we not recognize the
beautiful fitness of letting theirs remain, in the blunt
phrase of England's virago queen, "a barren stock."
A sketch in an illustrated paper-Harper's Weekly, Į
think-showed up a wife of this kind most graphically
428
Eve's Daughters.
a while ago. She sat, bare-armed and bare-necked, in
her opera box, toying with a lorgnette, while a mus-
tached exquisite whispered in her ear. In the back-
ground hovered an angel offering an infant to the wed-
ded pair. The husband's gesture besought the wife's
notice and her acceptance of the proffered blessing.
Her unoccupied hand waved it away disgustfully. Un-
derneath was written, "Suffer not little children to come
unto Me!'
There is something awry in the sensibilities, or off the
balance in the brain of the wedded woman who, al-
though moderately healthy and not actually poor, de-
liberately elects never to be a mother. So firm is my
conviction of this, so deep my abhorrence of the "pre-
ventives" commonly resorted to in order to escape the
menaced danger, that I would fain ascribe the sins of
young wives in this regard to ignorance, to thought-
lessness, or to the influence of bad counsels. They
have not been educated up to the appreciation either
of their duty or the exceeding great reward that will
attend the performance of it. They do not know (how
should they, never having been taught?) that the hus-
band will be the dearer, home the richer, the world
wider and more full; their own souls be renewed in
growth by their consent to fulfill this one of the Fa-
ther's appointments.
The word "consent" is used advisedly.
Shall Baby Be?
429
Dr. Napheys thus cites the remark of "a genial phy-
sician in the Massachusetts Medical Society":-
"If a woman has a right to decide on any question,
it certainly is as to how many children she shall bear.”
Upon another page of the same chapter, Dr. Na-
pheys issues this significant caution:-
"Let women be warned in the most emphatic man-
ner against the employment of the secret methods
which quacks in the newspapers are constantly offer-
ing. Such means are the almost certain causes of pain-
ful uterine diseases and of shortened life. They are
productive of more misery by far than over-produc-
tion.
"None of these clumsy expedients is more frequent
than the use of injections; none is more hurtful. It is
almost certain to bring on inflammation and ulcera-
tion."
"We are prepared to assert," says the editor of an
ably-conducted medical journal in the West, "that
fully three-fourths of the cases we have met of the vari-
ous forms and effects of inflammation of the uterus and
its appendages in married women are directly traceable
to this method of preventing pregnancy.”
If ever husband and wife should be agreed upon any
subject, it is upon this. The veriest tyro in the laws
governing reproduction now understands that the pro-
pitious period of fecundity is the fortnight immediately
430
Eve's Daughters.
succeeding what we have denominated "The Rhythmic
Check." Also that the opinion of the wisest physiol
ogists leans decidedly to the belief that should concep-
tion take place during the first half of this time the
product will probably be a girl; if later, a boy.
These are not prurient details, but useful facts, with
which every married pair should be acquainted.
("Prurient" and "prude" I interject, en passant, havė
other points of resemblance and more striking than in
the sound of the first syllable.)
The purest joys of wedlock are those of mutual affec-
tion, consonance of tastes, oneness in heart, mind and
purpose. The "walk together" should be in perfect
step and time. The divinest possibilities of our race
are in the hands of our best men and best women thus
joined. To approximate these, the production of off-
spring should be by consent, and not a matter of
chance or unmanly persecution.
We leave this vitally important subject with a last
and strong quotation from Greg's "Enigmas of Life."
In the paper entitled “Malthus Notwithstanding,” we
have this optimistic prediction (conditional):
"In addition to the positive and preventive checks
to over-population notified by him (Malthus), there ex-
ist physiological checks which escaped his search, and
which will prove adequate for the work they have to do.
If we were wise and virtuous, the positive check would
Shall Baby Be?
431
entirely disappear (with the exception of death, in the
fullness of time), and the prudential check be only
called upon to operate to that degree which is needed
to elevate and purify and regulate the animal instinct,
and which is quite reconcilable with, and conducive to
virtue, happiness, and health;-in fine, Providence will
be vindicated from our premature misgivings when we
discover that there exist natural laws, whose operation is
to modify and diminish human fecundity in proportion as
mankind advances in real civilization, in moral and intel-
lectual development; and that these laws will (unless
we thwart them) have ample time and space wherein to
produce their effect long before that ultimate crisis
shall arrive which the Malthusian theory taught us so
to dread."


鐵
​CHAPTER XXIV.
COMING.
"The pulse first caught its tiny stroke,
The blood its crimson hue from mine,
The life which I have dared invoke,
Henceforth is parallel with THINE.”
-EMILY C. JUDSON.
"From the moment of conception a new life commences, a new indi-
vidual exists, another child is added to the family. The mother who
deliberately sets about to destroy this life, either by want of care, or
by taking drugs, or using instruments, commits as great a crime, is
just as guilty as if she strangled her new-born infant, or as if she
snatched from her own breast her six-months' darling and dashed out
its brains against the wall."-NAPĤEYS, “Physical Life of Woman."

T
HIS is the fearless deliverance of ""
one who
knows." Henry Ward Beecher said in a lec-
ture on the "Burdens of Society," delivered
in antebellum times, that if "every letter of
the word" SLAVERY "were a Mount Sinai, it could
not express too strongly his sense of the enormity of the
iniquity." Now that the "Institution" he objurgated,
Coming.
433
in season and out of season, has become a question of
the Past, we may borrow the wholesale denunciation
for application to the crime against which the above
sentence is launched. The stress upon the italicised
words is laid by the medical judge, not by me.
Ignorant women are apt to believe that the child
does not live until the life is felt by the mother; that
all attempts to destroy and dislodge the loathed in-
truder prior to that time are sinless-indeed, quite
justifiable. Every physician in fair (or unfair) practice
will testify to the universality of this opinion among
the unlearned; the frequency with which he is consulted
by women of high social standing and intellectual ac-
complishments upon the safest means of effecting the
same purpose.
A clergyman's wife thus inveighed against the family
doctor upon his refusal to lend himself to the project
of destroying a three months' fœtus:
"And you, who call yourself a humane man, sworn
to do your utmost to alleviate the miseries of the
human race, condemn me to months of suffering, to the
perils of accouchement and subsequent loss of valuable
time rather than crush a contemptible animalcule?"
Another woman, a prominent "Higher Life" ex-
horter, entreated, even with tears, a physician of her
own sex to relieve her of "an incubus that would pre-
vent her from saving souls." Her pious work must go
434
Eve's Daughters.
on if the murder of her unseen, but living child were
necessary to clear the way!
Sharp and severe measures are imperatively indicated
for consciences thus diseased and twisted.
These were administered by an eminent surgeon to
whom the wife of a wealthy citizen applied in similar
circumstances:
"I can not-will not have this child, doctor!" she
stated. "I am going abroad with my family the com-
ing summer to be absent for a year. The discovery of
my condition threatens to upset all my plans. I am
willing to pay any sum for your assistance at this
juncture.
"Madam!" replied the upright Galen, "you are
just the woman for whom I have been looking for
many months. It is time that this sin of infanticide
should be checked by a notable example. I shall keep
my eye on you, and if you do not have this child-a
living child-at the proper season, I shall demand an
investigation of the case in the name of the law. I
mean what I say, and I shall keep my word."
I might multiply these cases, ad nauseam, from ex-
amples that have fallen under my own observation, had
I the heart to chronicle, or you to read them. The
evil is deadly, and the feeling that prompts to the com-
mission of the crime, widespread.
Again—as concerning the use of the filthy and injuri-
Coming.
435
2)
ous “preventives" referred to in our preceding chapter,
I am constrained, in sickness of soul, to take up Peter's
soothing words to those who had "killed the Prince of
Life," and say, "I wot that through ignorance ye did
it." The germ of the misdeed is the failure to value
aright our mission as the mother-sex.
The trust consigned to us by Him who formed us
Tripartite beings-His commission to us as Women, who,
through the loves He has also ordained, have become
wives—can not be misread without peril and sin. Next
to Him-in reverence I write it-we stand recognized
as the makers, as moulders of the race. One man in a
million leaves his mark on his generation. The hum-
blest mother-" thinking GOD's thoughts after Him
—may leave her impress of these upon living epistles
that are to transmit them to the eternities.
""
The next mistake is the non-appreciation of the
physiological truth plainly set forth in the quotation
from Dr. Napheys at the head of this chapter; a mis-
apprehension of the character of the act by which the
terrified woman would ward off pain, inconvenience
and danger.
Acquitting you, my patient, and now my dear reader,
of all disposition to shirk the sacred obligations im-
plied by the very words "Wife" and "Husband," I
pass with pleasure to a matter that does concern, and
very nearly, you and your embryonic treasure.
As
436
Eve's Daughters.
you have kept yourself sound and clean in body
and in spirit from your youth up because sanity and
purity are Christian duties, be doubly watchful of
health and serenity in behalf of the helpless creature
lying so close to your heart. You will discover now,
if never before, the advantages of holding imagination
within bounds and impulse in check. Discipline tells
upon your own comfort, tenfold more upon the forma-
tion of the growing Thing you would have perfect in
life and in limb, vigorous in mind, and free from de-
grading tendencies. You should be at your best when
the latent germ receives that which develops it into life
and growth. The stock-raiser who could not spell the
word "propagation" and would stare stupidly at talk
of the "survival of the fittest," yet comprehends the
law I have hinted at. The arboriculturist takes his buds
from thrifty boughs and engrafts them upon stocks
as healthy. A weak, vicious breed ought not to be
kept up.
Quietly and delicately adopt that regimen which will
forward all the ends you would gain. Beyond your
husband and your mother-or should she not be near
you, some discreet matron-friend-let not the knowledge
of your sweet secret extend for a few months at least.
As with the dawn of Love's Young Dream, be jealous
of sharing the happy news with those who, by coarse
jest or unwise pity, or officious counsels, would offend
Coming.
437
or alarm you. GOD has given you something to expect
and to live for; has laid a tiny shoot of immortality in
the hollow of your hand, and bidden you nurse it into
healthful growth and beauty. Thank Him hourly for
the gift; pray without ceasing that you may be worthy
of the trust.
If the manner of your outward life has been judicious
as respects exercise and occupation, do not alter it now.
A safe rule is, when the new burden can be borne safely
and in even tolerable comfort, to act as much as possible
as if you were unconscious of it. Walk regularly, out-of-
doors, and as far as has been your habit heretofore, un-
less the promenade is succeeded by unpleasant symp-
toms such as your friend and physician warn you call
for especial caution. Fresh air and cheerful exercise,
the panacea for so many fleshly ills, are never more
truly a catholicon than to you, as now situated. Walk-
ing, evenly and comfortably on level ground, keeps firm,
yet pliant, muscles that have more to bear than ever
before, which will be taxed yet more heavily in the full-
ness of time. If you allow these to become flaccid or
strengthless by disuse, the weight upon hips and back
will grow less endurable from day to day until the pres-
sure upon the lower abdomen and the underlying region
will be cruelly painful. In walking, hold your shoulders
in their normal position, neither stooping nor yet throw-
ing back your body ungracefully. If all goes on natu-
438
Eve's Daughters.
rally, you will be able to keep up your daily walks until
the expiration of the tedious "carriage" of three-quar-
ters of a year. It is essential to a "comfortable" ac-
couchement that you should do this.
Standing long in one position is disagreeable and
hurtful; far more trying and dangerous than walking,
because the weight settles hard upon one set of muscles
and drags upon the spine. Reaching up both arms to
arrange hangings, pictures, etc., should be especially
avoided, with lifting heavy weights, jumping from a
stair or stile, or carriage. Serious consequences often.
ensue from carelessness in these respects.
Be merciful to yourself in the matter of rest and
leisureful recreation. Lie down for half an hour when
you come in from your "constitutional," and have a
pleasant book within reach of your hand when weary or
"blue." That you will often be dispirited and depressed,
without as often as with known reason, is more than
likely. Some exceptionally happy women "never feel
so well at any other time," never so light-hearted, so
ready for work as when "carrying" their children.
Blessed are they among their sisters! It is a common
exclamation with those less favored that these excep-
tions "ought to bear babies for the whole community
of women." There is always a hope that you may en-
joy a like immunity from suffering. Should you not,
there remains the consolation that the coming blessing
Coming.
439
will be worth double what you pay for it, let the price
be what it may. Stay your heart upon the knowledge
of this, however you may feel. Do not allow your im-
agination to wander off into dreary forebodings of dis-
aster and death. The probabilities that you will pass.
safely through the crisis, bearing your infant in the
arms of the love the Gracious Father likens to His
own, as far outnumber the possibilities that you will not,
as the sunny days outnumber the stormy; as smiles are
more abundant than tears. By a cheerful, active habit
of life, by looking resolutely away from the gloomy to
the bright side of the future, by bringing to the endur-
ance of bodily discomfort resolution, hope, and faith,
you can further a happy consummation of present trials
more ably than could the combined medical skill of a
continent.
Without depreciating this same medical skill, let me
counsel you against the too-common weakness of con-
sulting even your family physician upon every new dis-
comfort incident to your condition. Without second-
ing Miss Cobbe's declaration that "the old dangers im-
plied in the words 'priests, women, and families,' were
less than the perils of the newer triad-‘doctors,
women, and families'"-I have as little patience as this
celibate Protestant Englishwoman with the class known
as "women's doctors."
"They," she says, "have much to answer for in the
440
Eve's Daughters.
way of demoralizing weak and impressionable women,—
in some cases, by ordering them stimulants in excessive
quantities, and in others, by leading them to a deadly
concentration of their thoughts upon disorders and
weaknesses of their frames, of which the less any one
thinks, the better for soul and body."
The disorders, many and annoying, which are symp-
tomatic of your state are more easily controlled by diet
and care than by drugs or stimulants. Not one woman
in ten thousand thinks of submitting herself to an
"examination" to verify the fact of pregnancy, or when
this is admitted, to account for her "odd sensations."
Not one in fifty thousand-I might say with truth, not
one in one hundred thousand, has valid cause for doing
this, or for consulting a professional physician at all.
"We give drugs to amuse the patient while Nature
performs the cure," said caustic Abernethy.
The bland practitioner who listens with compassion-
ate interest to the tale of your extraordinary affections
and rankling solicitudes, knows, if he is ever candid
even in thought, that there has no strange thing hap-
pened unto you. He has no apprehension as to the
result, and less anxiety on the score of your "alarm-
ing" symptoms, however well he may dissemble his
sentiments under the assurance that you have done well
in sending for him; that there are indications which
ought not to be neglected for a single day; that grave
Coming.
44I
results frequently follow inattention to such and such
symptoms, etc., etc., etc., et cetera.
Instead of swelling his bills, and boring or amusing
him by weekly consultations, give heed to a few prac-
tical motherly and nursely observations that may assist
you in the conduct of your own case.
Pregnancy is no more a disease than is the ripening
of a peach, the "running to seed" of a lily. It is a
perfectly natural process, for the perfection of which
the Creator has prepared a set of organs, delicate in
structure and easily deranged, but in all respects ex-
actly adapted for the work appointed unto them. All
that your will and care can do—all that the knowledge
of "the faculty" could effect, would be to remove
whatever obstructs the operations of Nature. If there
is no malformation (deformity, which does not appear
once in a million cases), the misnamed "diseases of
pregnancy" are a transient trouble. Every day is one
less, when time is journeying toward a fixed date, and
every pang or inconvenience borne strikes off one from
the number to be suffered.
Among the disorders incident to this period we will
mention a few of the most frequent-those common to
all women in the circumstances,-for which you need
not call in the doctor.
Morning sickness manifests itself generally, about the
time when the interrupted menses would, but for the
442
Eve's Daughters.
existing state of affairs, have made their appearance-
or about four weeks after conception. As soon as the
head is lifted from the pillow after awaking, the dia-
phragm rises in dumb revolt. Dumb, because there is
nothing to throw off from the disturbed surface. Have
upon a table at your bedside a bit of crust or toasted
bread-the drier the better,—and munch it quietly be-
fore you offer to rise. After swallowing the last crumb
lie still for five minutes, and then get up gently and
slowly, not to irritate the sensitive organ. Should the
nausea return, provoke it deliberately and with malice.
prepense, to the rejection of the slight contents of the
stomach; lie down for a minute; bathe your face and
wrists in cold water or cold water and vinegar,—arise
resolutely and go down at once to breakfast, or have a
slice of dry toast and cup of hot tea brought to your
bedroom. Force yourself to eat whether you want
the food or loathe the sight of it. Force yourself, more-
over, to think of something besides your qualms. The
meal disposed of safely, sit in the fresh air for ten
minutes or more, should the weather allow this. If
the day is cold, wrap up warmly and stand at an open
window, or saunter very gently on a sunny piazza.
After a few weeks' faithful observance of this regi-
men, the system will probably adapt itself to your will.
Should the sickness recur during the day, take ten
drops of Horsford's Acid Phosphate in a tablespoonful
Coming.
443
of cold water, and repeat this twice at intervals of half
an hour. This simple prescription is often singularly
efficacious. An excellent rule is never to let yourself get
hungry during the three months beyond which morning
nausea seldom continues. Emptiness of stomach is the
provoking cause of this affection. Eat lightly—dry
bread or biscuit, Graham crackers-anything that is easy
of digestion, and not sweet,-but eat often. Lemon-
juice is, with some, a specific for this affection. Acid
fruits of all kinds are craved, and usually highly bene-
ficial in quelling the uprising of the stomach. In time,
by the aid of any or all of these appliances, and your
own good sense, you will get the seditious organ in
hand, and the distressing affection gradually cease to
annoy you. Inanition and exhaustion, sudden fright
or anxiety, are, nevertheless, apt to induce it at any
stage of gestation. It is wise to prevent these mishaps
by all available means.
Heartburn is not confined to any special period of the
nine months' pilgrimage. It proceeds from acidity of
the stomach, and is best removed by a teaspoonful of
citrate of kali stirred into a glass of clear water, a
tumbler of what the druggists sell as "plain soda,” or a
bit of block magnesia dissolved in the mouth and swal-
lowed slowly. A lady told me once that she ate a few
sweet almonds chewed very fine when thus troubled, and
always found relief in the use of the pleasant corrective.
444
Eve's Daughters.
Should the burning become constant and intense, ab-
jure pastries, gravies, and sweets, as tending to gener-
ate acid and bile, and subsist upon brown bread (stale),
rare beefsteak and roast beef, juicy mutton, poultry,
fresh fruits and vegetables until you are better.
Constipation is a more serious ailment than any of the
two I have already mentioned. Sick headache, bilious-
ness, and—when it is very stubborn and prolonged-
convulsions, follow in its train. Correct it, if possible,
by diet. Cracked wheat, corn bread, Indian meal
gruel, mush and milk, apples (stewed, baked, and raw),
Graham bread, and fruit in abundance-particularly
peaches, oranges and lemons, are more agreeable cura-
tives and alteratives than blue mass, rhubarb, and seid-
litz powders. A glass of Hathorn or Vichy water drunk
before breakfast is often effectual, or an orange eaten at
bed-time. Simple enemata are useful in obstinate cases,
but they should not be resorted to except as a final
measure for removing that which other means have
failed to cure. One soon becomes entirely dependent
upon them.
Torpidity of the bowels is not infrequently succeeded
by the reverse of troublesome laxity. Unless this is ex-
cessive to the obvious weakening of the system, it is
not alarming, particularly if the gestation be far ad-
vanced. It is Nature's method of clearing the system.
of whatever would militate against her design of a
Coming.
445
birth that shall imperil neither mother nor child. The
strength must be kept up by suitable food, drives may
be substituted for long walks, and-most salutary of all
expedients-change of place, air, and diet for a few
days or weeks be tried for the cure or mitigation of the
disorder.
Rice, boiled milk (ice-cold or as hot as it can be safely
swallowed), arrow-root jelly and gruel, boiled mutton
and chicken, corn-starch, hasty pudding, thickened milk,
well-cooked dry toast unbuttered, are among the articles
suitable for your food while the diarrhoea continues.
Cramps-generally in the calves of the legs—are a
common annoyance, increasing in severity during the
eighth and ninth months. To check the paroxysm
which usually comes on while you are in bed, stretch
your foot straight out, bringing the heel into exact per-
pendicular with the ball, and hold it in this position for
some seconds. The relief will be almost immediate and
entire.
For pain in the back wear an Allcock's porous plaster
constantly, renewing as it wears off. This is an invalu-
able support when the weight on the small of the back
becomes heavy and the aching incessant.
To prepare the breasts for their novel office, wear a
bit of very coarse flannel next them for two months,
and bathe the nipples with a solution of alum and
brandy. A homeopathic medicine-calendula-diluted
446
Eve's Daughters.
with water, is excellent for this purpose, used as a fo-
mentation twice a day.
For such graver affections as bloating of the whole
body and varicose veins, consult without delay an experi-
enced physician. If you have maintained your active
habits and the functional regularity of the digestive or-
gans, you will not be likely to bloat, and the vein-swell-
ing will probably be comparatively slight.
Whatever measure of pain and languor may be your
portion, do not despond. The wild flutter of the un-
seen infant when you give way to hysterical emotion is
a token of the close sympathy existing between its life
and yours. Put from you philosophically and firmly,
not only distressful anticipations, but melancholy rev-
eries on any subject. Distrust moods, and, when these
are capricious, question the conclusions formed while
they are in possession. If tormented by persistent and
unhealthy fancies, seek merry companies, social amuse-
ments, bits of engrossing fancy-work, "funny" books.
Overwork is as perilous as sadness-perhaps more hurt-
ful to the health of the mother and the physical forma-
tion of the child.
I could fill pages with piteous stories of the whole-
sale baby-slaughter done by New England housewives.
of the generations closely preceding this. They reared
large families, but the two or three leaves devoted to
"BIRTHS" in the family Bible were crowded with en-
Coming.
447
tries and the "DEATHS" columns usually showed at
least half as many. My great-grandmother bore twelve
children, six of whom did not live two months. A
death-drain like this needed a patriarchal supply.
Madame du Châtelet-the most accomplished pupil
of Maupertius, the intimate companion for fifteen years
of Voltaire-writes thus May 20, 1749:-
"Do you know the life I have led since the depart-
ure of the King? I rise at nine, sometimes at eight.
I work until three, then I take my coffee. I resume
work at four. At ten I stop to eat a morsel alone. I
talk until midnight with M. de Voltaire, who comes to
sup with me, and at midnight I go to work again and
keep on till five in the morning."
Her biographer takes up the terrible tale :—
"She attempted to do for Newton's 'Principia'
what Mrs. Somerville afterward accomplished for the
Astronomy of Laplace. She translated the Latin into
French, and amplified the demonstrations so as to bring
the work within the grasp of advanced French students
of Mathematics."
Elsewhere he says:-
"Nature will not be cheated in a matter of supreme
importance. She bore much from this ill-regulated Du
Chatelet, but turned upon her at last to wreak a sud-
den and horrible vengeance.
"1%
* Parton's "Life of Voltaire,” p. 547.
448
Eve's Daughters.
Her child was born September 4, 1749. In four days
she and it were dead.
The misogynist, Frederick of Prussia, who hated her
for the influence she exerted upon Voltaire, made him-
self merry over the fatal occurrence in an epitaph :-
"Here lies one who lost her life from the double
accouchement of a 'Treatise of Philosophy' and of an
unfortunate infant.”
Occupation is not necessarily toil, nor are seasons of
restfulness, indolence. A wise alternation of the two
is your present need.
Before, and above all else, hold fast to your belief in
the tender mercy and loving-kindness of Him whose
"Greatness
Flows around our incompleteness,"
the Infinite Fatherhood that has called you to the
holy estate of prospective maternity. Read and apply
to your case what blessed old Bunyan writes of the
Valley of Humiliation when you are tempted to mur-
mur at your long journey amid the shadows of the
encompassing heights:-
"It is the best and most fruitful piece of ground in
all these parts. Behold how green this valley is; also,
how beautiful with lilies. Some also have wished that
the next way to their Father's house were here, that
they might be troubled no more with either hills or
mountains to go over.
"But the way is the way, and there is an end!"
INDEX.
:
CHAPTER I.-BIRTH, NOT BEGINNING.
The baby-girl-Conjugated in the passive voice—Mrs. Gamp
-The mother's discovery-Original sin and actual trans-
gressions-Law of heredity-The burden of to-day. . . . . . .
CHAPTER II.-INFANTS' FOOD.
Mother's milk-Milk-producing food-Old wives' fables-Ef
fect of the mother's moods and habits upon the nursing
child—Illustrations—Foster-mothers-Margaret Maguire
-Man an omnivorous animal-Substitute for mother's
milk-Bottle-babies-Importance of regular hours in feed-
ing..
CHAPTER III.-STARTING EVEN.
Story of a child of Nature-Our sons and daughters start even
-Twelve years of boyhood for each sex-Mortality of
sexes equal in childhood-Complexion and clothes-Out-
door life-Dietetics better than drugs-Illustrations from
life.....
CHAPTER IV.-HANDICAPPED.
II
22
41
Nature not responsible for constitutional weaknesses-The
mother the true representative of radical reform-Fash-
ionists and purists-Why few women can walk-Half-
girls, half-boys-Premature bloom, imperfection-Sinful
desecration-Formation of business habits in the girl-
"Pottering 'round"-Mrs. Garfield's bread-making-Dig-
nity of commonplace life-From birth to the marriage-day
an irresponsible, penniless pet-Why boys have savings'
banks and girls do not-Domestic bribery and corruption 57
CHAPTER V.-REVERENCE OF SEX.
The temple of the body-Practical study of anatomy and hy-
giene Childish questionings and maternal lies-False del-
icacy, criminal reserve-Popular ignorance and pseudo
modesty-Sins of our grandmothers-Consequences to
this generation-Frank and serious confidence between
mother and girl-child-Tell her "Why?"-How to begin
-The plain truth, and all of it—“ Knowledge never yet de-
450
Index.
stroyed delicacy"-The study of physiology in schools-Il-
lustrations—What are "inconvenient things ”? — True
heredity-The mother builds for time and for eternity.... 76
CHAPTER VI.—THE FIRST TURNING-POINT.
Perils of climacterics—Stealthy advance of the consciousness
of sex-Cure for morbid uneasiness-A fidgetty mother-
Crude growth unreasonable-How to meet peculiarities of
turning-point--Active employment for mind and body—
Care of the skin-Sponge and plunge baths merely sur-
face drainage Proper sewerage of the body-Morbid and
diseased appetites-Creation of a digestive conscience—
Evils of spiced food and stimulants-" Temperance and
Patience
CHAPTER VII.-GIRLHOOD.
97
Girls not women-Longings for young ladyhood—A safe and
sheltered season-The value of the accumulative period—
Immaturity not deformity-The mother's duty at this
juncture-Dr. Clarke on metamorphosis of tissue-The
made-woman and the woman-in-making — Nature can
supply, not create-" Enjoying bad health"-Health is a
duty" Romantic sickliness is bathos and vulgarity".... 118
CHAPTER VIII-BRAIN-WORK AND BRAIN-FOOD.
Silas Peckham and salty fish-Mrs. Peckham, Indian corn,
and pork-Feeding-establishments and boarding-schools
-Why girls are sent from home to school-Age at which
the girl should enter college-Warning-signals from Vas-
sar, Wellesley, Smith, and Mount Holyoke-Fed by con-
tract—Mrs. Putnam-Jacobi on mental action and physi-
cal health-Indifference to food ominous-Illustrations—
The student's body must be built up, not kept under-
What to eat, when and how to eat-Charlotte Brontë
A college boy's appetite and that of a college girl…..………….. 136
CHAPTER IX.-WHAT SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
College catalogues-Our girl's new sphere-The average girl-
student-Cui bono?-The young life takes root for itself—
Specific effect of the study of worthy subjects-Benefit of
school discipline in after-life-Comparison between col-
lege-bred men and college-bred women Freemasonic
"
order of gentlehood-" My mind to me a kingdom is
Music and painting as electives-Advantages of practical
amateurship in the fine arts-Cruelty of compulsory mu-
Index.
451
sical education-Accomplishments veneer and glaze-
The conventional girl and the conventional pattern for a
boy-Waste of time, money, and misdirected energy-Il-
lustrated-Filling buckets evenly..
CHAPTER X.-FACE TO FACE WITH OUR GIRL.
Womanly impatience-Impracticability of transmitting individ-
ual experience-Frances Power Cobbe's appeal to women
as human beings of the mother sex-Health of unedu-
cated women-Dr. Clarke on "Jane in the factory," and
"Jane in the college "-Insanity and disease of farmers'
wives - Maud Muller and the college girl-Health of
American domestics-Illustrations drawn from a house-
keeper's experience--Physical ailments and miseries of
'Jane in the factory "-Dr. Beard on improvement in
physique of better class of Americans—The girl of to-day
is on the winning side……...
..
CHAPTER XI.--HOW SHALL OUR GIRL STUDY?
What health of mind implies, and what health of body--Lov-
ing care of the body combined with gross neglect of it—
Causes of the rapid degeneration of women-foreigners in
America-Bridget and Gretchen as imitative animals—
Mrs. Lofty and her daughters as reformers-Care of the
health not necessarily remedial measures—The body is
the soul's nearest neighbor-Strain upon the medulla ob-
longata-Overwork a dishonest draft upon physical en-
ergy and mental force-Sequel of this improvidence and
extravagance-Studying with headache and cold feet--
Causes of insomnia and troubled dreams-Incipient suffu-
sion of the brain-A few practical suggestions—Rest an
invariable human need.
• •
CHAPTER XII.-THE RHYTHMIC CHECK.
Heredity accentuated in the Third Part of woman's nature—
Anæmic blood leads to an anæmic mind-What our
grandmothers thought of the Rhythmic Check-A wise
and gracious means to an important and beneficent end—
Dr. Clarke's mild prohibitory clause-One day's rest in
thirty-A few safe and easy regulations-How girls study
"Wear and
and think, and how boys-Dr. Mitchell on "
Tear"-What is "a dangerous amount of friction"?—
Working in deadly, superfluous earnest-Effect of mental
agitation upon the periodical function-How to become
mistress of yourself-Stop!-Working with, not against,
154
173
194
452
Index.
Nature-Equilibrium of thought-flakes and regularity of
blood-tides The Sabbatical calm..
·
CHAPTER XIII.-AMERICAN WORRY.
Women braver, but not more patient, than men—Doing only.
one thing at a time-It is not work, but worry, that kills
-Will, not feeling, should rule-Taking up ashes with a
gold spoon-To prove the brain sexless, divorce it from
the heart-Comparison between excessive emotion and
excessive study-Inherent and essential healthfulness of
brain-work per se-Degradation of work into worry-Il-
lustrations-The specific for mental excitation-Longevity
of clergymen-Woman's need of something more tender
than philosophy, stronger than stoicism The Better
Part..
CHAPTER XIV.-WHAT THEN?
Graduated-Home-life, and "What to do with it "-Fancy-
work, candy-pulls, missionary-barrels, and clubs-Desul-
tory reading and study-College curriculum and green
pickles-Specific employment a need-The society girl-
Open doors for the woman of To-day-Half taught to do
nothing-Illustration-Youth the time for the "learning
how "a look ahead..
CHAPTER XV.-CALLED.
The King's commission-Patent prescriptions for feminine as-
pirations-Woman's kingdom-How to make the best of
one's self-Why women become teachers-Diversity of
gifts-An anchor to windward-Effect of a vocation upon
the woman herself-Anxious because aimless-Why the
average woman falls in love "-Mrs. Delany's versatility
of employment and industry-Carlyle on women's right to
study medicine-Missionary women physicians-Frivoli-
ties of the stereotyped girl-life-Best interests of the home
promoted by the election and study of professions by
women-Obloquy of old-maidism-Wise economy of time
and forces in student, wife, mother, and housekeeper—
Emily Brontë's German and bread-making — Knitting-
work and poetic fancies-The "betweenities
27
CHAPTER XVI.-WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH THE
MOTHERS?
The girl's home-coming-Must the mother be crowded out?—
Outgrown-Upon the same floor with the kitchen-Un-
214
226
247
267
Index.
453
considered sacrifices-Grinding down from somebody to
nobody-A sound principle-The mother's only earthly
kingdom-" Only mother
CHAPTER XVII.-INDIAN SUMMER.
"The Love that Lived"-The highway of middle age-The
forgotten habit of learning-Mrs. Holgate's failures-Set-
tling down Exceptional women "-American society
"too young"-The mother the girl's chosen as well as
lawful confidante-An office never to be demitted-The
"change of life": its symptoms, its compensations, and
its hopes....
CHAPTER XVIII.-HOUSEKEEPING AND HOME-MAKING.
Mme. Demorest on woman's work-Cooking-lectures and
salad-clubs-Why girls are not taught practical house-
wifery Illustrations - Need of moral courage in the
mother-The father's reasonings-"The Story of Avis"
-Excrescent development in man and in woman-Illus-
trations - The perfect intellect in either sex Mary
O'Reilly's love-letter-Peculiar trials of domestic life—Á
rule without exception-Happiness and blessedness......
CHAPTER XIX.-DRESS.
Curious statistics concerning cleanliness and dress-Dress a
Fine Art in all ages-The world and women better and
more sensible now than in St. Peter's time-Just taste in
this Fine Art versus a lust for dress-Esthetic morality of
dress - Practical suggestions - Hygiene in dress — Dr.
Thomas on the dress of the Pilgrim mothers—Our grand-
mothers' tight-lacing-What we have paid for it-Our
girl's corset-Dr. S. B. Hunt on dress-reform—Modern
improvements upon ancient usages in dress—Lady Hunt-
ingdon's court-costume-Night-dress and bed clothes-
Carbonic acid gas and effete animal matter-" Aunt Ildy"
on cleanliness and beauty.....
CHAPTER XX.-GOSSIP.
•
Is culture a cure for gossip ?—A biting spice of truth-The be-
ginning of the end-Illustration-The blue-bottle fly in-
stinct The Sneerwell school-From gossipry to slander
-Where the cure must begin-Three cardinal rules-
The Musca Cesar and fly doors-Which is the chief com-
mandment? -"Culture not a cure for gossip-Mrs.
Arachne Webb-Heroic treatment ..
290
303
319
339
363
454
Index.
"
CHAPTER XXI.-PRINCE CHARMING.
Sister Anne and the watch-tower-The abundant sphere-
Springfield Republican and London Truth on "Uses for
Women –Men not our natural enemies-Dr. Gregory's
"Legacy to his Daughters"-The accordant Whole-The
silent side-Idealism of woman's love-Titania and Bot-
tom—An exquisite touch of nature—Friendship between
young men and young women-How to identify the Prince
-No chance in the Universe-Marriage the risk of all
that time can give-A squeamish fiction - People who
should not marry.
...
384
CHAPTER XXII.-MARRIED.
The old-fashioned novel and the modern-Loveless marriage
an unchaste union - Coming down to every-day life—
Wifely jealousy of business-" Management of a hus-
Land-Illustration-Samson's first wife-Essentials and
non-essentials-Masculine compromise-A sin and a woe
sui generis-Two incontrovertible truths-Toleration of
foibles and fancies-What is innocent and what hurtful-
Better lose love than respect-Wifely heroism-Absolute-
ness of the marriage-tie...
•
•
CHAPTER XXIII.—“SHALL BABY BE?”
What must build up the American nation, as such?--Voting
or making voters The Augean Stables-Our grand-
mothers' many children-What are "Women's Rights"?
-We are not rebellious serfs-Three leading objections
"Suffer not little children to come unto me"--Dr.
Napheys' significant caution Prurient and prude-
Gregg's optimistic prediction..
CHAPTER XXIV.-COMING.
•
A solemn warning-A too common crime-Sin and peril of
preventives -
Thinking God's thoughts after Him".
Dawn of the Second Life-A few safe rules-Mercy to
yourself-Probabilities-" Doctors, women, and families
-Pregnancy not a disease-Disorders incident to this
period — Illustrations-Wholesale baby-slaughter of pre-
ceding generations-Death drain and patriarchal supply
-Mme. du Châtelet-"How beautiful with lilies!"- "The
Way is the Way and there is an End"
·
402
419
432
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