STACK ANNEX 
 Cage 
 
 Higginson 
 English school-girl
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH SCHOOL-GIRL 
 
 POSITION AND DUTIES. 
 
 A SERIES OF 
 
 LESSONS FROM A TEACHER TO HER CLASS 
 
 Ententirti as Subjects for JHStittm ^collections. 
 
 MRS. ALFRED HIGGINSON. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 
 1859.
 
 ENGLISH SCHOOL-GIEL 
 
 HER POSITION AND DUTIES.
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH SCHOOL-GIRL 
 
 POSITION AND DUTIES. 
 
 A SERIES OF 
 
 LESSONS FROM A TEACHER TO HER CLASS: 
 
 as Subjects for JKSrtttcn Eecolkctions. 
 
 MRS. ALFRED HIGGINSON. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 
 1859.
 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 Cagg, 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE best apology for printing the following very 
 simple Lessons, that may not be found in pYisting 
 eduoational works, lies in the fact that, although 
 written for present use, not for publication, they 
 have proved most successful instruments in carrying 
 out the purpose for which they were written ; and 
 it is hoped that what has served one school may 
 be no less useful in many more. The elements of 
 them may be met with, scattered in fragments, in 
 many books; but the Course is complete in itself, 
 and has immediate reference to a view of life which 
 is too seldom placed before our pupils. 
 
 It is tolerably certain, as attested by Her Majesty's 
 Inspectors of Schools, that the present system of 
 education in common schools, admirable as it is by 
 contrast with past times, yet fails signally in pro-
 
 VI PREPACE. 
 
 ducing even a fair average of awakened and general 
 intelligence. For twenty girls or boys that can work 
 sums in Practice or Fractions, not two will be found 
 able to give, either in speech or in writing, a vivid 
 and correct account of the last country excursion or 
 harvest-feast. For twenty who will answer your 
 questions on the succession of British Sovereigns, 
 probably not one will have a glimpse of the real 
 history and liberties of the British people ; nor, pro- 
 bably, could one explain how pure air influences 
 human health, or manifest the least knowledge of the 
 events taking place around him, which are building 
 up the history of the world. But above and beyond 
 these failures, there is a dark spot in the condition 
 of our scholars, which is almost a necessity of their 
 lot, but which admits of amelioration if not of entire 
 removal. I mean the mechanical and almost irre- 
 sponsible habit of mind contracted by the necessity 
 of moving and acting in numbers. For this edu- 
 cating in numbers, of course there is no help, and 
 where there are numbers there must be discipline 
 and restraint, that law and order may be maintained ; 
 but it certainly seems that too little pains have been 
 taken to obviate the natural bad consequences to 
 individual character when thus placed in the school
 
 PREFACE. VU 
 
 ranks. What we want, after all, is to turn out into 
 the world real, strong, self-reliant individuals; yet 
 we rarely take pains to relieve them of their corpo- 
 rate character, and to awaken them to a sense of 
 their own single and responsible position, of their 
 own powers and destiny. We are always putting 
 knowledge into them, but we too seldom encourage 
 them to self-expression and self-guidance. 
 
 As one means of forming and elevating individual 
 character amongst our elder scholars, I am in the 
 habit of giving familiar and conversational weekly 
 Lessons to a set of girls; about fifteen or twenty 
 forming the class. This moderate number, collected 
 in a small class-room, allows of much relaxation as 
 to discipline, and the occasion is valued by both 
 pupils and teacher, which thus gives opportunity for 
 exchange of thought, and closer personal appeals 
 than could well be made under more public circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The following Lessons served as the basis of con- 
 versation, and as subjects for weekly, written recol- 
 lections, exercises only too evidently needed as com- 
 plements to the usual school routine. 
 
 I have to acknowledge much assistance derived 
 from the admirable little book entitled 'The House
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 I live In/ and from Miss Martineau's ' Household 
 Education.' 
 
 In using these Lessons, it is to be hoped that 
 pains will be taken to gather together as many 
 Illustrations as possible. Good and cheap prints are 
 to be had in illustration of almost every science; 
 and the M r hole, or parts, of the human skeleton, 
 may be made most attractive and interesting to 
 earnest learners. 
 
 E. H. 
 
 laverpool, November, 1858.
 
 THE 
 
 ENGLISH SCHOOL-GIRL. 
 
 LESSON I. 
 
 IP I were to say to any of you now assembled around 
 me, ' ' Who are you ? " I should expect to hear as an 
 answer, the name of the girl I happened to address, 
 Elizabeth, Mary, or Jane ; and this would give just 
 as much of the truth as was then in your thoughts ; 
 but perhaps I might be thinking of some further ways 
 of describing you, ways that young children are not 
 expected to have much in their thoughts, but which 
 it would be well for at least the elder girls to be be- 
 coming familiar with. I wish to help you to an easy 
 and yet a full answer to this question, and to some 
 others ; but it will require many lessons from me, and 
 careful attention in yourselves, to make me feel that 
 you are wiser for attending my class. The elder girls 
 will find it worth while to get a copybook, or to stitch 
 some paper into a strong cover, and keep a regular
 
 2 LESSON I. 
 
 written account of what is now to be taught. What 
 more, now, can I be thinking of in answer to my 
 question, than that here is Elizabeth, there is Mary, 
 and so on with all of you ? I will tell you. You are 
 persons, each one by herself an English school-girl. 
 No one of you can ever be any one else, but you will 
 be very different from what you are now. Did you 
 ever think of your mother or your aunt being differ- 
 ent from what you see them ? Perhaps not ; and yet 
 they were once young like you, as giddy and ignorant, 
 perhaps, and, I hope, as gay and merry as you are. 
 Well, then, when I think of the answer that might be 
 given to the question " Who are you ?" I think some- 
 thing like this : " These girls are, for the most part, 
 merry, happy school-girls ; they are daughters ; most 
 of them are sisters ; all of them are persons, human 
 beings, who are living every hour with other human 
 beings, and moreover they are fast growing out of 
 childhood, and are likely to become the mothers, 
 guardians, and teachers of another set of children, 
 who will perhaps sit on these very benches, and learn 
 where their mothers learned." Here then is a more 
 full answer to my first question than you would have 
 given by yourselves. I dare say it makes some of you 
 think of many more things that might be said on the 
 subject. It makes me think of so many, that I am 
 glad to feel that we may have a number of lessons 
 and conversations on all that ought to follow on this 
 matter.
 
 LESSON J. 3 
 
 I have said that you are school-girls. How comes 
 it that you are school-girls ? Did you put yourselves 
 to school because you thought it the best plan for 
 you? No; you perhaps do think it the best plan, 
 but your friends send you here, pay for you, feed 
 and clothe you, and do without your help for many 
 hours in the day. Now this brings me to the second 
 question I have to ask, namely, "Where are you?" 
 The answer appears very simple, but there are a great 
 many things to be said in explanation of it. The sim- 
 ple answer is, that you are living in a busy and large 
 town in England. There are many places in the world 
 where you might still be school-girls ; but there are 
 very many places where schools are not known, and 
 many where there are no people so instructed them- 
 selves as to care for them. If your parents belonged 
 to France, or Prussia, or to almost any country in 
 Europe, you would be sent to school, and also in the 
 United States of North America, and in those parts 
 of the world that belong to Great Britain called 
 our "Colonies." In all these places, and more, if 
 ^ou lived where a good many other people lived, you 
 would find a school to go to. It will be good for 
 you, however, to know a little about those places 
 where God might have chosen you to live, instead of 
 in this town, and where no school-life would have 
 been yours. If you had been the daughters of farmers, 
 labourers, or fishermen, even in the northern parts of 
 our own island, and still more, if your family had emi-
 
 4 LESSON II. 
 
 grated to the far- west of America, or to the bush of 
 Australia, you would at this time be very clever about 
 milking cows, shearing sheep, catching fish, making a 
 fire in the woods to boil the pot, and a hundred 
 strange things that you can scarcely dream of here ; 
 and your fathers would sigh for time and opportu- 
 nity to teach you a little of reading and writing, and 
 would perhaps manage to do it a little on winter even- 
 ings. You might have been very useful, very happy, 
 and very good, for all of us may be so, wherever our 
 lot is cast ; but that lot would be very unlike what 
 happens to be yours. If you were little Esquimaux 
 Indians, you would strive which should soonest learn 
 to hear the seals playing under the ice ; if you were 
 the daughters of the South Sea Islanders, you would 
 think it your greatest praise to dive to the coral reefs, 
 and swim over the ocean waves for hours together. 
 To none of these strange things are you born ; I will 
 help you to find out what it is that you are born 
 to do. 
 
 LESSON II. 
 
 To-day I will begin to tell you more than you know 
 at present about what you are, and to explain what it 
 is to be a person, or human being. 
 
 Do you think that you are at all like plants? In a few 
 ways you are. You begin by being very little, and you
 
 LESSON II. 
 
 grow and strengthen ; and then, when you have lived 
 long enough, you become weak and die ; so do plants. 
 You require nourishment and air and light, so do 
 plants ; and if too much heat, or sudden cold should 
 come to you, you grow sick and fade away ; so is it 
 with plants. But what great differences you can think 
 of at once, between ourselves and plants, and between 
 any animals and plants ! All animals can move them- 
 selves (except a few kinds chiefly living in the sea), 
 so that they can seek for food and shelter, while a 
 plant, as you know, must stay where it grows, and 
 be nourished by the rain and the soil and the air. 
 Animals can defend themselves from their enemies, 
 but plants may be trodden on, or cut down without 
 resistance. Well, then, you are very different from 
 plants. Are you then like all the other animals, 
 horses, dogs, lions, birds, fish, and butterflies ? No, 
 you are not like them, for you can talk and think, and 
 plan what you will do ; you can remember things long 
 gone by; you can love, you can hope, for you can 
 think of and wish for things in time to come ; you can 
 feel shame for having done wrong, and satisfaction 
 at having done what is right. Now, though the other 
 animals can do so much more than plants can do, 
 you see what it is that makes us human beings so very 
 superior to the brute animals. We read in the Bible 
 that God, in His great goodness, made us in His own 
 image ; and though you have often heard those words, 
 perhaps none of you have thought very much about
 
 6 LESSON II. 
 
 what they mean. I think that what I said just now 
 is the explanation of what they mean, in this way : 
 " Image " means likeness, and there is only one way in 
 which we can feel that we are like the great God, and 
 that is by perceiving that we can know, and think, and 
 choose how to conduct ourselves. We should try to 
 remember very often this one great thing that God has 
 done for us ; that He has made us, in giving us minds, 
 like Himself. How ashamed we ought to be when we 
 act more like the brute animals, and forget to make 
 ourselves more and more like what God approves. 
 Now let us think once more about what God has 
 created on this earth. There are rocks and stones, 
 and heaps of earth, that we have not talked about -, 
 and lumps of gold, silver, iron, and other metals, and 
 useful coals. All these are called minerals. These 
 lie in their places, and do not grow, and do not want 
 feeding ; so we look upon them as lower, less perfect 
 things in creation than plants, which we call vegetable. 
 I have shown you that plants are inferior to animals, 
 and I have shown you that the animal, Man, is very 
 superior to all the rest. You would think it very curi- 
 ous if you could know how one set of animals is more 
 perfect than another, with ever so many sets, each 
 superior to the one before it till we come to Man. 
 There are some animals so very like plants, that at 
 first one can scarcely find out the difference. They 
 chiefly live in the sea, and some of them are stuck to 
 the rocks and stones, and always live there in one
 
 LESSON III. 7 
 
 | 
 
 place, just like plants. But clever and observing 
 people have found out that they have the means of 
 moving a part of themselves very quickly, so as to 
 make a little current, or rushing of the water around 
 them, and in the stream thus made, tiny little matters 
 of food are brought to them. Superior to these are 
 Insects ; more perfect still are Fishes, then Reptiles, 
 then Birds, and then different kinds of all the other 
 animals, ending with the human creature, which you 
 are. 
 
 LESSON III. 
 
 Having now discovered that we are human beings, 
 and superior to all other animals, on account of the 
 mind or soul with which God has blessed us, I have 
 to teach you some of the duties that fall upon you 
 with regard to this gift. Some of you begin to fancy 
 that I am going to talk to you about storing this 
 mind with knowledge from books and teachers, and 
 of directing your souls to goodness and obedience; 
 and you are not wrong, for I shall speak to you of 
 these things, but I am first going to tell you that we 
 cannot take the very best care of this mind or soul, 
 without knowing also how to take care of the case or 
 dwelling in which it lives. I suppose you all know 
 that a dead body has no feeling. If you were to 
 strike it, or cut it, or twist its limbs, you would give
 
 8 LESSON III. 
 
 no pain, for its life had gone away, and returned to 
 Him who gave it ; but while the life is in the body, 
 any injury to the body produces pain, and it does us 
 harm, and prevents our minds being calm and free. 
 You see then that God has made our minds to feel 
 through our bodies, and it is not difficult to under- 
 stand, that if we wish our minds to be undisturbed, 
 and untroubled by pains and suffering, we ought 
 surely to do our part in taking care that the dwelling 
 in which the mind lives is in a proper condition. And 
 this dwelling is our own body. There is a nice little 
 book called 'The House I Live In/ and this book 
 describes the human body in its various parts, under 
 the comparison of a house. I shall tell you many 
 things from that book in these lessons, and to-day we 
 will think of our bodies as houses for our minds. I 
 was speaking just now of injuries or hurts to the body. 
 I suppose that you think a surgeon is the best person 
 to go to, when such a thing happens. You fancy that 
 I am thinking about a broken leg or a crushed hand, 
 and you think within yourself, "/ could not cure these, 
 and it is not my fault that they happened." You are 
 right about that, but I can think of many injuries to 
 your bodies that you might prevent, and that it is 
 quite your duty to prevent. Perhaps I can lead you 
 to find out some of these for yourselves. Let us 
 again compare the body to a house. If a very high 
 wind were to blow down the chimney of your mother's 
 house, or if a boy were to throw a stone and break
 
 LESSON III. 
 
 the window, what would be done? Why, a brick- 
 layer would be sent for to mend the chimney, and a 
 glazier to repair the window. The bricklayer and 
 the glazier would do for the house, what the surgeon 
 would do for your body, if you were to break any of 
 your bones, or to injure your eye, for is not the eye 
 the window of the body ? But chimneys do not often 
 fall down, nor are windows broken every day, so 
 workmen are not wanted very often to a house ; but 
 the cottage would be in very bad condition if nobody 
 thought of taking care of it. Let us see what harm 
 could come to it. Suppose that the people in it were 
 very lazy, and did not like the trouble of letting in 
 fresh air, nor of sweeping and scouring and dusting. 
 Suppose they just covered over dirty places with some 
 gay cloth or curtain, and let all the holes and cor- 
 ners get blocked up with dust and dirt. Suppose they 
 made a great fire in one of the rooms when it was not 
 at all wanted, and blistered the walls with the heat. 
 Suppose they let all sorts of rich and greasy things 
 be gathered together in this close, hot, dirty place. 
 What now do you think would soon be seen in that 
 house ? I think we should hear of fever and other 
 sickness, that the doctor would be wanted, and per- 
 haps death would overtake some of the inhabitants. 
 I am afraid we shall find that many people treat their 
 own bodies very much in the way that I have sup- 
 posed that cottage to be treated. You see that it 
 does not require a bricklayer nor a glazier to keep a 
 
 B 3
 
 10 LESSON III. 
 
 house clean and airy, and fit to live in, nor does it 
 require a doctor merely to take care of our bodies, 
 but only to cure them, when any part of them is ill. 
 Just as a house must be swept and washed, so our 
 bodies must be kept clean. Covering up heaps of 
 dirt with a fine sofa, or a red carpet, is like a girl 
 putting on a new Sunday frock and a smart hat 
 over an unwashed skin and dirty hair. What is like 
 the making a great fire so as to blister the walls? 
 It is drinking spirits, and all heating, intoxicating 
 liquors, instead of the nourishing food that would 
 warm sufficiently, but not injure. And filling the 
 house with rich and greasy things, is just what greedy, 
 gluttonous people do, who fill their stomachs with 
 sweet things, pastry and strong flavours, and so lose 
 all appetite for milk and bread, plain meat, and good 
 vegetables. 
 
 Now remember this, if you neglect your bodies, 
 they will not be as healthy as if you were to take care 
 of each part of them : the unhealthy parts will give 
 you pain, or at any rate uneasiness ; while your body 
 suffers, your mind will be disturbed, so that you will 
 be likely to feel cross, and lazy, and unhappy. Surely 
 you must now think that God intends you to take 
 care of your body.
 
 LESSON IV. 11 
 
 LESSON IV. 
 
 In teaching you more than you could easily find out 
 for yourselves, about the human body, there are two 
 things that I wish you to notice particularly, and to 
 remember. One is the wisdom and goodness of God, 
 shown in the many contrivances for our safety and 
 comfort that we find in every part of our bodies ; and 
 the other knowledge that I wish you to have, and to 
 keep, is that of the methods by which you may help 
 to maintain your bodies healthy and fit for their work. 
 Let us see whether you can do anything toward keep- 
 ing the framework in order. What can the frame- 
 work be? It must be some strong, hard substance, 
 within us, that can support the weight of all our flesh 
 and soft parts. Accordingly we find that when skin 
 and flesh, and all the soft parts are stripped away, 
 there is a firm foundation of bone. You must not 
 think that you have to learn the names and uses of 
 all the bones in the body, for I think it would be a 
 longer lesson than you could ever learn, and so will 
 you think, when I tell you that there are more than 
 240. It matters for us all to remember, however, 
 that not one of these many bones, large or small, 
 has been made without some particular purpose, and 
 always for our comfort and benefit in some way. I 
 will tell you of some proofs of God's care in provi- 
 ding us with these bones.
 
 12 LESSON IV. 
 
 You know that the brain has been discovered to be 
 by far the most important part of our whole body. 
 By means of the brain our senses are made of use to 
 us, and indeed by it we gain all our knowledge. The 
 brain is contained within the head, and if you put 
 your hand on your head you will feel a firm covering 
 of bone, and perhaps you will think that it is one 
 curved piece of bone, but it is not. Did you ever 
 notice what immense panes of glass, called plate-glass, 
 are to be seen in some shop-windows ? Sometimes a 
 whole window is filled with only one pane. Well, 
 you can fancy the expense and mischief of such a 
 window being broken, cannot you? If a stone 
 reached it, most likely the crack made would run all 
 across ; while a stone thrown at a window that had 
 six or eight panes could break only one. Now our 
 brain is surrounded by no less than eight bones, most 
 curiously lying next each other in such a way as to 
 prevent much of the harm that would take place from 
 a blow, or other injury, were there but one bone in- 
 stead of eight. This is one benevolent contrivance. 
 I will now tell you something about what is generally 
 called the back-bone. That firm, strong pillar has far 
 more curious contrivances about it than I can explain 
 to you, but I can tell you of one or two of the most 
 beautiful. That pillar goes all the way up to where 
 the head rests upon it, and I should like you now to 
 move yourselves about, so as to notice that you can 
 bend yourselves a little in the middle of your back,
 
 LESSON IV. 13 
 
 more still lower down, and most of all in your neck, 
 near your head. How can this be ? If there were 
 but one stiff bone, how awkward it would be to bend 
 ourselves, and all parts would have to bend together. 
 God has most benevolently made this pillar of twenty- 
 four bones, so beautifully contrived that we can bend 
 ourselves in a curve, and each bone has but a very 
 little movement to make. This is another contrivance 
 for you to remember. On the uppermost of these 
 twenty-four bones (called vertebrae) rests your head. 
 Your head is joined to this bone by a hinge. Think 
 how the lid of a box moves on its hinges: it can move 
 up and down, but in no other way, which you must 
 remember. I think you will easily find out that your 
 hinge-joint lets you nod your head, and enables you 
 to look down at your sewing or writing, and then to 
 raise your head again. But you can turn your heads 
 also; you can look to your right-hand and then to 
 your left-hand, and yet you see that a hinge-joint 
 would not let you do that. 
 
 To make our heads of the greatest use and pleasure 
 to us, then, God has given to our frame another con- 
 trivance for moving the head. In that bone which is 
 the second from the head, there is a sort of strong 
 tooth, sticking up (only larger than a tooth), and in 
 the uppermost bone, on which you know the head 
 rests, is a hole, into which this tooth fits, so that the 
 uppermost bone, with the head, can turn about nicely 
 on the sticking-up tooth or pivot. The reason why
 
 14 LESSON V. 
 
 we cannot turn our heads all the way round, is that 
 there are some strong bands, called ligaments, to pre- 
 vent it. The pillar down our bodies is called the 
 spine. The twenty-four bones of which it is made are 
 called vertebrae; the uppermost one is the atlas; that 
 with the tooth is the axis. I shall have some more 
 contrivances to tell you of another time, before we 
 have done with the framework, but I hope you can 
 now write down how it is that God has protected our 
 brain ; how it is that our backs are strong, and yet 
 able to be bent for our convenience ; and lastly, how 
 it is contrived for us to move our heads down and up 
 again, and to turn them to each side. 
 
 LESSON V. 
 
 There is quite another kind of joint that I am now 
 going to tell you something about, and it is not un- 
 like the little toy that I hold in my hand (a cup 
 and ball) . Every person's thigh-bone ends in a ball. 
 This is the longest bone in the body. Every person's 
 thigh-bone at the other end, that is at the knee, is 
 joined to a bone of the leg by a hinge-joint, of which 
 you already know something. Think of the box-lid, 
 and how we observed that we could in no way turn 
 the lid ; we could only open and shut it. Now you 
 can swing your leg backwards and forwards from your 
 knee, because the hinge-joint there enables you to do
 
 LESSON V. 15 
 
 it, and you can keep your thigh still while you do it. 
 But see what happens when you wish to cross your 
 legs, or to move them apart. In doing so you find 
 that your thigh must move too, and you soon per- 
 ceive that this motion comes from the hip, where the 
 end of the thigh-bone has a round knob. Now this 
 knob fits into a hollow space called a socket, and you 
 can at once understand how much more opportunity 
 there is for motion than a hinge-joint could give. Let 
 us think whether this arrangement is not just that 
 which is the happiest for us. If the hinge-joint were 
 at our hips, our thighs must always be at the same 
 distance from each other ; we could not move them 
 to the side, nor lay one over the other ; and if the 
 ball-and-socket joint had been at our knees, how 
 strangely and inconveniently our legs would have 
 turned about, instead of supporting us firmly while 
 walking ! Above your elbow, from it to your shoulder, 
 extends a bone which also ends in a round knob, and 
 fits into a socket. I suppose you see directly how 
 thankful we ought to be for having such a joint placed 
 there, for it enables us to move our arms very freely, 
 and even to lift them above our heads. Can you 
 raise your leg up high like your arm ? No ; and yet 
 it has a ball-and-socket joint. Well, I must tell you 
 of further contrivance still about these joints. The 
 ball in this toy slips very easily out of the shallow 
 wooden cup, does it not ? But if the cup were much 
 deeper, and if there were a kind of rim, or stiff cushion,
 
 16 LESSON V. 
 
 all round the edge, I suppose you see that it would be 
 much more difficult for it to slip out. And besides 
 this, if there could be a short, strong, tough band, 
 one end fastened securely to the ball, and the other 
 into the cup, it would be hard work indeed to separate 
 them. You will now be surprised and pleased to hear 
 that just such contrivances do really exist in our joints. 
 The hip-joint, which needs less motion and more firm- 
 ness, has the deeper cup, and the stronger ligaments, 
 and a firm edge to the cup. Now, has it come into 
 your minds to wonder how it is that our bones do not 
 wear out at the joints, which are almost always mov- 
 ing ? What an immense deal of rubbing our knee- 
 joints have to do every day ! If you ever went to the 
 railway-station to see a train go off, you might have 
 observed some tin cans of thick yellow grease, and a 
 man applying some of the grease to parts of the 
 wheels of the carriages. If you were to go in the 
 train you would find that at the different stopping- 
 places on the way, more grease would be brought and 
 would be applied to the wheels. This grease helps to 
 keep the surfaces that rub together quite smooth, so 
 that they do not grate harshly together, when they 
 would fast wear out. Now the kind Maker of us all has 
 provided for us what we only imitate in our machines. 
 There is a safe covering over our joints which helps 
 to keep them firm in their places ; but from the inside 
 of this covering there is constantly oozing out a liquid 
 that spreads over the smooth bones and keeps them
 
 LESSON VI. 17 
 
 constantly as if they were oiled. So you see that every 
 possible want is provided for. This is the last of the 
 contrivances about our bones and joints that .1 shall 
 tell you about here. These are some of the wonderful 
 things that have been done for us. I wish now to 
 say a little about what we can do, to take care of these 
 curious bones, but I mean to put all that part of the 
 subject into the next Lesson, for it is very important. 
 
 LESSON VI. 
 
 In this Lesson I wish to direct you how to make 
 use of the little knowledge that I have tried to give 
 you about the bones or skeleton of the body. I shall 
 speak to you as if you were young nursemaids ; for I 
 always suppose and hope that most of you will go to 
 service, and if not to be always nursemaids, yet chil- 
 dren will often come under your care, and even now 
 many of you must have little brothers and sisters at 
 home to take care of. Those of you who are so happy 
 as to be gentle, patient, and loving toward little chil- 
 dren, will find out without being told how to hold, and 
 carry, and manage infants, so as to make them easy 
 and comfortable ; but a little knowledge of how these 
 wonderful bodies are formed, and of the dangers from 
 which a little care on your part might save them, is 
 well worth some pains to acquire. 
 
 I shall teach you by-and-by, more particularly,
 
 18 LESSON VI. 
 
 how it is that people injure their health by eating im- 
 proper food, instead of that which is known to be 
 nourishing ; but I wish you to remember at this time, 
 that the bones, as well as other parts of the body ; de- 
 pend upon wholesome food for their strong and 
 healthy growth. In the care of yourselves, then, try 
 to check any desire you may have for eating more 
 than is moderate and reasonable, of things that would 
 spoil your appetite for plain food. More than all, 
 pray avoid indulging babies, or little children under 
 your care, with sweet things, to keep them quiet; 
 they will only cry for more, and not enjoy their bread 
 and milk at the proper time. Besides taking care 
 that the bones of little children should have proper 
 nourishment for their growth, we must see that no- 
 thing prevents their growing in the proper shape. 
 The bones of little chickens are much softer, and more 
 yielding than those of an old fowl ; the bones of a 
 sucking pig, of a lamb, and of a calf, are much more 
 tender than those of a sow, a sheep, or a cow : so it 
 is with us. The bones of young children may easily 
 be turned from their natural shape if they are wrongly 
 pressed upon ; and I think you may every one of you 
 remember to have known some child with legs not 
 straight, but curved outwards. This is sometimes a 
 sign of disease, but not always. If a child happens 
 to be very fat and heavy, its little legs are most likely 
 not strong enough to bear the weight, and the bones 
 will therefore bend. But remember this ; if the bones
 
 LESSON VI. 19 
 
 are soft enough to bend into a wrong shape, they are 
 soft enough to be got back into the right shape, by 
 careful management. And now comes the thought 
 that I should like you all to have about this matter. 
 Would you not like to feel that you had done all you 
 could, to make any child under your care, straight, 
 well-formed, and healthy ? You can at once say that 
 you would like it ; but in order really never to neglect 
 your charge, you must put a great check upon your- 
 self, and determine to be very patient in amusing the 
 child, and in carrying him carefully when he ought 
 not to be tiring himself on his feet. Remember that 
 care and patience for one or two years may make a 
 child grow up and live a happy life, for sixty or 
 seventy years, and that you yourself have owed this 
 care to some one already. 
 
 When you play with a child, never set it down, 
 either sitting or on its feet, with a jerk or in a vio- 
 lent hurry. In that case you may do mischief to that 
 beautiful pillar of twenty-four joints, the spine, which 
 might lame the child for life. In the same way, 
 never, for fun's sake, think of pulling away a stool or 
 chair from any person unawares: how dreadful it 
 would be to see that person never able again to stand 
 or walk ! It would be a misery to you as long as you 
 lived. 
 
 If you should be unfortunate enough to meet with 
 any accident, however slight, to a child under your 
 care, be courageous enough to speak of it at once ; it
 
 20 LESSON VI. 
 
 is always best bravely to own your faults, but never so 
 much so, as when the safety and happiness of another 
 being are concerned. A hurt which you may have 
 occasioned to a bone or joint in a little child, might 
 perhaps be easily cured if known of at the time, but 
 if neglected it might lead to a serious disease. 
 
 If you have a baby to nurse, less than three months 
 old, or a delicate child, older than that, do not be in 
 a hurry to show people " How well baby can sit up." 
 You can easily perceive how heavy the head is, and 
 you must remember the still tender state of the bones 
 of the spine, and that they cannot bear the weight of 
 the head very long at a time. I need scarcely remind 
 you that the head is the most precious part of the 
 body, and that you must always guard it well when 
 you carry a baby. If it is lying across your arms, 
 look well to see that you avoid striking it against the 
 door, or the door-post, or the bed, or any other piece 
 of furniture. 
 
 There is one part of your own framework, the care 
 of which I wish to point out to you. It is that part 
 of you where your waist is, and above and below your 
 waist. If we thought wisely and rightly about the 
 matter, we should feel sure that we have no business 
 to interfere with the form that God has given us; but 
 every person whatever that chooses to wear tight 
 stays, and so to have what is called a small waist, is 
 interfering with and altering the shape that God has 
 given. When you come to know what those parts of
 
 LESSON VII. 21 
 
 us are that are shut up within our ribs, you will un- 
 derstand how foolish it is to squeeze these ribs to- 
 gether by tight dressing, and so make less room in- 
 side ; but you can well understand already, that God 
 has made our framework of the size necessary for all 
 that it contains, and that if we wilfully tighten it in 
 and alter it, we must expect to suffer in consequence ; 
 and this vanity has been the death of many, and the 
 loss of health to many more. 
 
 LESSON VII. 
 
 The picture which I have shown you of the human 
 skeleton is most curious and interesting ; but it does 
 not give one the same idea of beautiful form or shape 
 that a picture of an entire human figure does. In 
 the skeleton we perceive that the joints stand out in 
 rather heavy lumps, and that the bones of the limbs 
 are thinner and smaller, down from one joint to an- 
 other ; but when our Maker completed the figure, both 
 of man and of the brute animals, He made the whole 
 appear beautiful by filling up the smaller parts, and 
 giving an aspect of roundness and proportion to every 
 part of the figure. That which principally fills up 
 the spaces around the bones is called mmcle, and is 
 the same as what you are accustomed to call flesh. 
 If a muscle were of the same thickness in all its 
 length, our limbs would be of the same shape as in
 
 22 LESSON VII. 
 
 the skeleton, only larger in size; but instead of this, 
 we find that our muscles are thick in the middle, 
 and growing smaller towards each end, and the thick 
 part comes where the smallness of the bones is, and 
 the small parts of the muscle come where our joints 
 bulge out, so that a rounded, well-formed limb appears. 
 I have mentioned this provision for beauty, before 
 going on to describe the usefulness of the muscles, 
 because I should like you to have the early habit of 
 observing how much God must care for beauty and 
 order, since every part of His works is filled with ex- 
 amples of them. I have shown you how He has 
 covered the skeleton in such a way as to produce 
 a beautiful form, and there is no part of God's 
 works that does not show equal beauty. We have no 
 reason to be vain of our persons, for the birds of the 
 far-off American forests, the magnificent butterflies, 
 and the curiously painted reptiles of the swamps, that 
 even man never approaches, are as exquisitely de- 
 signed and formed as is Man himself. Myriads of 
 creatures, besides the most striking and beautiful 
 trees and plants, live and die in beauty which no man 
 has seen, but which the Almighty for ever takes 
 pleasure in creating. How then can we feel worthy 
 of being made "in His image/' when we help to 
 make ugliness and disorder around us, instead of pre- 
 serving and adding to what is good and beautiful? 
 Let me here assure you that the smallest thing you 
 have to do every day, may be done, if you choose,
 
 LESSON VII. 23 
 
 in the very spirit of beauty and order, and that every 
 careless and reckless habit is just so much spoiling of 
 the work, that God has given you to do your best 
 upon. If you were each of you to determine, that 
 each thing you had to do should bear the mark of 
 care and good endeavour, and that each person you 
 might have to do with in the course of the day should 
 bear away a kind and happy impression of you, just 
 think how much even you, young school-girls, might 
 do towards the increase of the beauty, the order, and 
 the happiness that God wishes us to enjoy. Thought 
 about in this way, you would soon learn not to de- 
 spise clear and pretty handwriting, neat, well-finished 
 sewing, perfect lessons, well-mended clothes straightly 
 put on, cheerful tempers, obedient minds, and un- 
 selfish hearts. And we should find some of you 
 younger ones, who may be only thoughtless, and not 
 really cruel, afraid and ashamed to teaze and pull to 
 pieces a butterfly, or any other creature of God's cre- 
 ation, in the midst of its enjoyment of life. 
 
 Now try to remember that, as we are made in God's 
 image or likeness, we must hope more and more to 
 love beauty and order, as He does. 
 
 If you were surprised to hear that there are more 
 than 240 bones in each of us, you will be more sur- 
 prised still to hear that we have more than 450 
 muscles in our bodies. It is more wonderful still, to 
 reflect that we are constantly using them all with 
 out any trouble to ourselves, and enjoying them with
 
 24 LESSON VIII. 
 
 often too little thankfulness. Perhaps you may think 
 more gratefully of your blessings, if I tell you of a 
 gentleman who was in perfectly good health in all 
 other respects, but had lost the use of just two little 
 muscles, out of the great number that I mentioned 
 to you, yet this apparently trifling misfortune did 
 much to interfere with the pleasure of his life, for 
 they were the muscles that lifted up his eyelids. As 
 the power to do so had gone out of them, the lids 
 dropped down and covered his eyes, and every time 
 he wanted to look at anything, he was obliged to hold 
 up the lids with his hands, very inconveniently of 
 course. This anecdote ought to make you observe 
 what I had not told you before, and that is what use 
 muscles are to us. You see that they cause movement. 
 When I explained the hinge-joint, and the ball-and- 
 socket joint, you saw that they might be moved, but 
 I did not tell you what puts them in motion. The 
 muscles have that power, but I must tell you in an- 
 other Lesson all that you can understand about how 
 the muscles act. In using the hand about forty mus- 
 cles are required, and in using the arm not much 
 under a hundred. 
 
 LESSON VIII. 
 
 I promised to explain to you to-day how it is that 
 muscles give motion to our limbs and other parts of
 
 LESSON VIII, 25 
 
 our body, but I will first tell you a story that will 
 help you to understand it. 
 
 There is in Rome an immense pillar of granite, 
 which stands in front of the church called St. Peter's, 
 but which did not always stand there. It was brought 
 from Egypt, and lay partly buried in the ground ; but 
 about 250 years since, the Pope who was then reign- 
 ing determined to have it raised. It was a labour of 
 enormous difficulty to move it at all, and it occupied 
 several months, and required hundreds of men, very 
 many horses, and the aid of powerful machines. On 
 the day which was to complete the raising of it, the 
 multitudes assembled were ordered to observe silence. 
 The huge pillar was partly placed upon its pedestal ; 
 it was almost ready to stand, but not all the power of 
 machines or men could get the remaining inches ac- 
 complished. Suddenly the silence was broken by the 
 voice of an English sailor, who called out " wet the 
 ropes/' The master- workman had this done, and 
 shortly, to the surprise and pleasure of all present, the 
 huge mass slipped into its place.* Now the reason was 
 this, that the water thrown on the ropes caused them 
 to contract in length. It filled and swelled out the fibres 
 of the ropes, so as to thicken them a little, but this very 
 thickening of them caused them at the same time to 
 shorten. They could not shorten without drawing-on 
 that thing to which they were attached, which was the 
 great pillar. I have told you this story that you may 
 . * This illustration is taken from ' The House I live In.'
 
 26 LESSON VIII. 
 
 understand and remember the effects of contraction, 
 for that is the curious power which God has placed in 
 our muscles. They are very different from ropes how- 
 ever. To make a rope contract we must do something 
 to it, but if we wish to lift our arm we have only to 
 make the attempt to do it, and the muscle needed to 
 lift it at once contracts, and the thing is done. The 
 ropes too would contract at any part that was wetted, 
 equally, but our muscles contract almost entirely in 
 the middle. Ropes are generally of the same thick- 
 ness all along, and tied at the end to the thing that 
 has to be moved. Our muscles are much the thickest 
 in the middle, and most of them not only grow smaller 
 at each end, but they also terminate in one or more 
 white, flattened pieces of a very tough substance, 
 called tendons, which grow to the bone, and so they 
 easily lift the bone when the muscle to which they 
 belong contracts in the middle. If you will attend 
 closely to what I have just taught you, I think you 
 will find out that there is still something more to be 
 explained about any movement that we may wish to 
 make. Just remember that a muscle acts by contrac- 
 tion, and in no other way, and then think what you 
 do when you rub a table or anything else. With a 
 duster in your right hand, you make a brisk move- 
 ment of your arm towards yourself. How did your 
 arm make that movement ? Why, it was by the con- 
 traction of the muscle in front, between the shoulder 
 and elbow. But that is all that the muscle was ca-
 
 LESSON VIII. 27 
 
 pable of doing, and yet to rub the table you must put 
 your arm back again to where you began, and you 
 must do this firmly, and many times over, before the 
 table will look bright. So you see there must be 
 something else to cause the double movement of your 
 arm, for the one muscle I told you of can give but 
 one motion. And therefore it is that God has pro- 
 vided us with a double set of muscles, and for each 
 one that enables us to move a limb, or any portion of 
 us, in one direction, we always find another ready to 
 give exactly the contrary movement, and so to restore 
 the part to its natural place. There are, then, muscles 
 in the front of the upper arm which bend the elbow, 
 and there are opposition muscles at the back part of 
 the upper arm that enable us to thrust back the limb 
 that had been brought forward. This is the way you 
 rub the table. When you move your fingers even in 
 the small down-strokes and up-strokes of your copy- 
 books, you are using double sets of muscles. We may 
 observe that some of our muscles are placed at a dis- 
 tance from the parts which they are intended to move, 
 and this has been done both for beauty and con- 
 venience. If the muscles required to move our toes 
 had been all found in the foot and ankles, there would 
 have been much ugly and inconvenient thickness. 
 Instead of these we find them in the calf of the leg 
 and they act upon the foot by means of long tendons. 
 When you see a lump of meat from a butcher's shop, 
 you do not see one muscle, but parts of several that 
 
 2 c
 
 28 LESSON IX. 
 
 have been cut through. On examination you would 
 find that you could separate one muscle from another, 
 and that between them there would be a fine whitish 
 substance, making a sort of wall between them. The 
 muscles themselves are made of a multitude of fibres, 
 some of them too 'small to be seen by the eye, and 
 these fibres are connected together by the same kind 
 of substance as the whole muscles are to each other. 
 This substance is made in little cells, and these cells 
 contain fat. Muscles are nourished by blood, and 
 when you know more about blood you will again see 
 that you cannot have strong muscles unless your blood 
 is made with proper food. 
 
 LESSON IX. 
 
 Having learnt something about the bones and the 
 flesh of our bodies, we will consider for a little while 
 the covering of these things; you will readily con- 
 clude that by the covering I mean the skin. We 
 talk of the skin as if it were one piece of something 
 spread over our bodies, like the peel of an apple, but 
 in reality we have three layers of covering over our 
 bodies, all differing in their nature. The innermost 
 one, that which is furthest out of sight, is called the 
 true skin, and it is this skin which, in the brute 
 animals, is made into leather, by tanning. It is 
 most curiously provided with innumerable little blood-
 
 LESSON IX. 29 
 
 vessels, and it is exactly the same in all races of people 
 on the earth, negroes as well as white people. When 
 a scar is left upon the body after a bad cut or other 
 injury to the skin, we may be sure that the lowest, or 
 true skin, was in that part destroyed, for it has not 
 the power of growing again to be just what it was 
 before. The outside skin of all has that power, and 
 we must observe and admire this instance of God's 
 goodness to us ; for of course the very outside of us 
 is the most liable to injury. No sooner however do 
 we rub off, or cut through this outside skin, than 
 new skin begins to form, and it grows most quickly 
 and well in people who are healthy and clean in their 
 bodies. Persons who are gluttonous or drinkers, or 
 dirty, generally find it very difficult to have new skin 
 grow ; and when they are hurt, great sores often come 
 around the place, and spread, and at last cause death 
 after much suffering. Between the two skins that I 
 have now told you of is another, like a piece of gauze, 
 containing a soft substance which gives the colour to 
 the person. In the negro this substance is black, in 
 us it is white, and of different degrees of redness or 
 yellowness in the coloured nations of the earth. Very 
 little is known of the use of this colouring matter, but 
 you see that it is not in the blood. God has made of 
 one blood all nations of the earth ; and instead of 
 despising any of them, we should rather try to bene- 
 fit them whenever it is in our power. Curious and 
 interesting as these things are, there are yet more
 
 30 LESSON IX. 
 
 important matters for you to remember, and not only 
 remember just every now and then, but really to act 
 upon every day. There are two sets of contrivances 
 about the skin that I wish you to know about. First, 
 it is a fact that all animals require some degree of 
 oiliness about them, outside as well as inside, to keep 
 every part in good, working order. You may remem- 
 ber the provision for our joints being kept smooth. 
 Well, the skin requires a little of this oiliness, as 
 well. Birds require it for their plumage, which you 
 may observe them curiously dressing and smoothing 
 with their bills. They have a little bag, or gland, it 
 should be called, from which they can press out this 
 fluid, and use it with their bills. Most animals have 
 their skins provided with innumerable tiny vessels, 
 or glands, which are always filling with this oil, and 
 giving it out upon the skin. The sheep has a great 
 supply of it, and its fleece has a very oily feel. We 
 have these glands all over our skin ; and now I will 
 tell you of another set of organs. I suppose you all 
 know what a quantity of moisture will gather upon 
 you, and even run down in drops, particularly in hot 
 weather, when you have been running a long way, or 
 romping hard. That moisture is called perspiration, 
 or sweat, and you can easily see it. It is true, however, 
 that there is a slight perspiration that you can not see, 
 always going on, and proceeding from this new set 
 of vessels, contrived for the purpose. It is known that 
 this invisible perspiration is necessary to health, for
 
 LESSON IX. 31 
 
 if it becomes checked for a time, the person falls ill. 
 This is what has happened when a person is said to 
 have "caught cold," and it may be produced by 
 sudden damp, or draughts, and by other causes also. 
 Now just consider what you have to do for your 
 skins, in consequence of your having these two sets 
 of vessels given you with the intention of making you 
 healthy and comfortable. I suppose you need not be 
 told that anything in the least greasy is especially 
 liable to gather dirt, which sticks to it ; and I sup- 
 pose you quite understand that if you block up open- 
 ings which steam or any other vapour ought to pass 
 through, the vapour will be stopped. Do not forget 
 then that your skin ought always to be letting out 
 that vapour, which is perspiration, and that if you let 
 the natural oiliness of your skin gather dirt which 
 you do not take the trouble to clear away, the open- 
 ings will be blocked up, the perspiration will be kept 
 in, and you will be doing a great deal towards de- 
 stroying your health. From what I have plainly 
 taught you today, you may discover that the best 
 health may be preserved by those who very frequently 
 wash themselves well all over, and especially if they 
 can often afford to use a warm bath. It is all over us 
 that the perspiration goes on, yet many people are 
 contented with washing only their faces, necks, and 
 hands, which is a sad mistake.
 
 32 LESSON X. 
 
 LESSON X. 
 
 You have heard from me, over and over again, that 
 every part of us is nourished by blood, and that good 
 blood cannot be made by eating and drinking bad 
 food ; but, at present, I am sure you must have very 
 confused notions of how bread, and meat, and milk, 
 and potatoes, can ever be made into red blood. The 
 history of the blood, how it is made, and when made, 
 how it moves through our whole bodies, is perhaps 
 the most beautiful and interesting part of our subject. 
 You can tell for yourselves what is the first thing that 
 we do with our food ; but when once it is gone out of 
 our mouths, it is impossible to know what becomes 
 of it, unless we learn its wonderful history from the 
 wise men who have succeeded in discovering God's 
 beautiful contrivances for nourishing the human 
 frame. I need not tell you that the teeth, firmly set 
 in our jaws, are the first to begin the work of redu- 
 cing food into what will make blood. A grown-up 
 person, who has cut all his teeth and has lost none, will 
 have thirty-two. These are given us to chew our food 
 with, and we ought to take proper time and pains to 
 do so, and not greedily swallow lumps. The tongue 
 helps to gather together the chewed food, and to push 
 it along to the throat. Now when it comes there, it 
 does not find one passage or pipe, but two ; and yet 
 only one of these is the food-pipe, and if any of the 
 food, even a little crumb, were to go into the wrong
 
 LESSON X. 33 
 
 pipe, we should choke and cough, and be very mise- 
 rable till we had got it out again. This other pipe, 
 through which we breathe, has accordingly been made 
 in a way which protects us from the dangers I spoke 
 of. It has a little door at the entrance, and this door 
 is generally open ; but no sooner is a portion of food 
 pushed on to the food-pipe, than it closes fast down, 
 the food goes over it, and all is safe. The door is con- 
 nected with the back part of the tongue, so the very 
 movement of the tongue that pushes the food on, at 
 the same time presses down the door. Now you can- 
 not speak without lifting up that door of the breath- 
 ing-pipe ; and this is the reason why children should 
 learn to wait till they have swallowed their food be- 
 fore speaking. If they try to do both together, of 
 course there is danger of some of the food going the 
 wrong way. We will now suppose that the food is 
 passing safely down the food-pipe, called the gullet, 
 which, after some distance, opens into a space or 
 apartment of our house; and this is the stomach, 
 which can comfortably hold between two and three 
 pints. The food now remains in this apartment for 
 some little time, and here a very curious thing hap- 
 pens to it. On the walls of the stomach gather drops 
 of a fluid, just as drops of sweat gather on the fore- 
 head, and this fluid is necessary to the food, with which 
 it mixes by degrees, softening it, and turning it into 
 a greyish pulp. The food went into the stomach at 
 the left side, but the pulp that it is turned into, gra- 
 
 c 3
 
 34 LESSON X. 
 
 dually works its way to the next opening, which is at 
 the right side. It is a most curious thing, that there 
 is always a difficulty in the food getting through this 
 further opening, unless it has been thoroughly well 
 turned into the pulp I mentioned. When we put 
 into our stomachs the right quantity and kinds of 
 food, no difficulty happens, and the pulp passes on ; 
 but if not, we suffer uncomfortable feelings, and the 
 food is finding difficulty in pushing on. When it has 
 passed the opening out of the stomach, it begins to 
 go through a long passage, called the intestines, and 
 they wind about so very much, that if they could be 
 held out in all their length, they would reach to 
 about six times the length of the person they be- 
 longed to. When the pulpy mass enters these intes- 
 tines, it is still further mixed with two other fluids, 
 one of which, called bile, you may have heard of. It 
 is then ready to begin its wonderful task of feeding 
 and nourishing every part of the body. But how can 
 it get from this dark passage to our fingers, and feet, 
 and every bone in our bodies? I cannot tell you 
 exactly that till the next Lesson, but I can carry you 
 part of the way to-day. I hope you remember what 
 I have taught you about some certain vessels in our 
 bodies, that have the power of giving out fluids; some 
 that give out oily matter, and some that give out 
 perspiration. You have now to learn that there are 
 quite innumerable vessels that have the power of suck- 
 ing in fluids, or parts of fluids, that pass by them.
 
 LESSON XI. 35 
 
 They lie very thickly all over the inside of the intes- 
 tines, and as the now properly-mixed pulp goes along 
 this canal, these thousands of minute vessels take in 
 and carry away all the best and most nourishing parts, 
 while the coarser and useless parts are rejected, and at 
 last got rid of. The highly nourishing matter conveyed 
 by these little vessels, is of a milky appearance; as 
 they pass on they unite, and form a larger and a larger 
 stream, till they meet in one passage, which goes up 
 the back, carrying the nourishing fluid with it, and 
 near the left shoulder it comes to the end of its soli- 
 tary journey, and falls into company with a most im- 
 portant part of our frame the blood. Here I must 
 break off for a time in the history of where our food 
 travels, and give you an account of the companion that 
 it meets with; for there is a great deal to tell you about 
 where the blood has been before it meets the fresh 
 supply that it wants from the food, whose journey, I 
 hope, you can remember : mouth, food-pipe, stomach, 
 intestines, and there the good parts are gathered into 
 vessels that convey them in a stream till they meet 
 the blood. 
 
 LESSON XI. 
 
 When you want to wash your hands, and you go 
 to a tap, turn the handle, and see the little stream of 
 water gush out, I wonder whether you have ever con-
 
 36 LESSON XI. 
 
 sidered where it comes from, and how much trouble 
 has been taken to supply the thousands of taps used 
 in a town. "We will trace part of the journey of this 
 water, and then I will show you that it is a good deal 
 like the journey that our blood takes. 
 
 The water that is supplied to a town is generally col- 
 lected into one or more large places, called reservoirs. 
 They are sometimes so large as to resemble a lake, 
 and are filled by many small streams, which run down 
 from the higher ground or hills in the neighbourhood. 
 The water from the great reservoir then flows down 
 (as water naturally does), through very large pipes, 
 towards the town that has to be supplied. But there 
 may be houses on the way that want water to use, and 
 when the large pipes are brought quite to the town 
 there are streets on the right hand and streets on the 
 left, and perhaps a village or two at a little distance, 
 all needing water. Then smaller pipes are joined into 
 the large ones, and carried into the separate streets 
 and lanes, and then a smaller pipe still to carry the 
 water to separate houses, and in the house itself, 
 smaller pipes still, to supply taps in the cellar, the 
 kitchen, and the chambers. It sometimes happens 
 that there is a supply of water that requires to be 
 pumped up with force into the pipes of the town, and 
 then a steam-engine is erected for the purpose ; and I 
 mention this, because you will like to remember this 
 part of the resemblance that I am going to point out 
 to you between the journey of the supply of water,
 
 LESSON XI. 37 
 
 and the journey of our blood. You may now take a 
 minute or two to feel your own hearts beating, for it 
 is that beating that I compare to the strokes of the 
 steam-engine. Now, that wonderful beating of the 
 heart no mortal man can understand. We know what 
 the beating does for us, and I am going to tell you 
 about it, but what causes the beating we cannot tell. 
 It is God's gift of life to us, and when it pleases Him 
 the beating ceases, and we die. At every beat of the 
 heart several curious things happen, but just now I 
 wish for your attention to one only. The heart has 
 different chambers in it for receiving the blood. From 
 one of these the blood is driven at each beat into a 
 large pipe : so here we have the heart for the reservoir, 
 and the blood running, like the town's water, into the 
 first great pipe. As it goes on it finds smaller pipes, 
 and then smaller still, as you can imagine when I tell 
 you that in this way the blood is conveyed to the very 
 ends of your fingers, which we may compare to the 
 most distant rooms in a house provided with water- 
 pipes. All the pipes that I have been speaking of 
 are called arteries, and you have to remember that 
 their business is to distribute the blood all over the 
 body. Here is the end of our comparison to the 
 water-supply of a town, for you must all know that 
 we do not use our blood by drawing it off from the 
 body, as we draw water from the pipes. Something 
 very different takes place, for our blood has to be col- 
 lected again by other pipes, and at last carried back
 
 38 LESSON XI. 
 
 to the heart. These collecting-pipes are called veins, 
 and just as arteries grow smaller and smaller on 
 the road from the heart, so veins grow larger and 
 larger on the way back to it. There is one of these 
 that I just mentioned to you in the last Lesson, and 
 I hope you all remember the fact that, at this vein, 
 the stream of prepared food joins the stream of the 
 blood. I can now add that very shortly after they 
 meet and mix, they fall into one of the chambers of 
 the heart. Now I hope you can guess why it is that 
 this food-stream is needed by the blood that is coming 
 back from all the extremities of the body. Remember 
 that this very blood had set out on its journey not very 
 long before, fresh and well supplied with all that the 
 body wanted. Most wonderful is it to think of, that 
 in that blood there was a portion of every substance 
 that our body contains, and all along the course it 
 took there were little vessels ready to take up whatever 
 was needed for the particular part that they belonged 
 to, while at the same time they passed on or refused 
 whatever was needed for other parts. Some of these 
 vessels, for instance, would take up from the blood 
 whatever was proper to form bone, and would let alone 
 those little particles that would be wanted to form 
 hair, or nails, or fleshy fibre. I do not think that I 
 could find anything more beautiful or curious than 
 this contrivance for nourishing our bodies, but it should 
 lead us to think of our part in the matter, as I have 
 often before pointed out to you. Just consider this,
 
 LESSON XII. <>y 
 
 there are the thousands of little vessels, waiting, in 
 each of us, for what? Why for just what we choose 
 to send them through our food. You may as well 
 know the real name for the fluid that our food be- 
 comes. It is called chyle, and in order to form good 
 chyle we must attend to the sort of food we eat, and 
 also to the quantity we allow ourselves. Many things, 
 such as butter, help to make good chyle if a little be 
 eaten, but a large quantity would quite fail to do so. 
 A person is almost sure to have good blood who eats 
 principally 
 
 Bread, not new. 
 
 Meat, plainly cooked. 
 
 Vegetables, that are in season. 
 
 Milk. Butter and eggs moderately. 
 
 LESSON XII. 
 
 On a former day we traced the food we consume in 
 its journey through the body, and you learned where 
 that passage called the gullet leads. There was an- 
 other pipe, close beside the gullet, which you heard 
 called the windpipe. Now just as the gullet conveys 
 something that will, by-and-by, be of use to the 
 blood, so the windpipe conveys something that the 
 blood could not at all do without. But where does 
 the windpipe lead to ? It leads to a large chamber 
 in which our breathing is performed; or rather we
 
 40 LESSON XII. 
 
 may say two chambers. They are called the lungs, 
 right lung and left lung. The windpipe leads by in- 
 numerable branches to these chambers, which consist 
 of cells to receive the air, for it is air that passes 
 down the windpipe, and it is air also that is abso- 
 lutely necessary for our blood to meet with. 
 
 There are many interesting things about the lungs, 
 and how they move, that I wish we had time to study, 
 but my purpose now is to tell you only those things 
 that will help you at once to understand your duty 
 about the preservation of health ; so I will go on to 
 tell you how it is that our blood is made to meet 
 the air, and why it must meet it, and then you will 
 better know your duty about taking care that you 
 breathe enough of fresh air. 
 
 I hope you remember that the set of pipes used to 
 distribute the blood, or carry it from the heart, are 
 called arteries ; those that collect it, and bring it back 
 again, are called veins. Now the blood that leaves 
 the heart is of a fine, bright crimson colour, but the 
 same blood when it comes back to the heart is very 
 much changed, and is of a dark purple colour, almost 
 black. You know that just before it reaches the 
 heart, it has received the new supply of chyle from 
 the food ; but besides that, it has lost a great quantity 
 of a certain material of which blood is made, and it 
 has gained a great deal of another kind. It wants 
 therefore to get rid of some of that of which it has 
 too much, and it wants to gather a fresh supply of
 
 LESSON XII. 41 
 
 that kind which is now deficient ; and how is all this 
 managed, do you think ? I will tell you. In the last 
 Lesson, I said that several wonderful things happen 
 at each beat of the heart, but I told you only of 
 the coming-in and the going-out of the blood. You 
 must now try to fancy that four things, instead of 
 two, are done at each beat ; for before the blood 
 goes into the set of arteries, it takes a journey into 
 the lungs, by a set of pipes placed for the pur- 
 pose. At every beat of the heart, then, some blood 
 comes into it, and some goes out ; some goes into the 
 lungs, and some comes out of the lungs ; these are the 
 four things. Now what happens to the blood while 
 in the lungs is this : it is spread about the very large 
 surface of the lungs, so as to meet with the supply of 
 air that we have just breathed in, and here is the 
 beautiful contrivance for our welfare that the power 
 of breathing exhibits. The air we breathe, if pure, 
 contains a large quantity of that material which I 
 told you the blood had lost in its journey through our 
 frame. When this blood is dispersed through the 
 lungs, it collects or takes up from the air in the cells 
 all that it needs of this good material, and moreover 
 it leaves behind, or gives to the air in the lungs, a 
 portion of that bad, heavy part, which it had gathered 
 in its course. By this process in the lungs, the blood 
 becomes once more crimson and bright ; it goes back 
 thus into the heart, ready to set out througk the 
 arteries. Since our blood is every minute coming
 
 42 LESSON XII. 
 
 into the lungs, to receive what it needs of refresh- 
 ment, I suppose none of you can help seeing that we 
 should try to breathe good air, by which I mean air 
 that is unspoiled. There are several ways of spoiling 
 air, and you must remember those that I am going 
 to tell you. Besides breathing in air to our lungs, 
 you must be aware that we breathe air out again. 
 Now what did I tell you happens to the air that goes 
 in ? Why, much goodness goes out of it into the 
 blood, and much that is heavy and hurtful comes 
 into it from the blood. Then what we breathe out is 
 spoilt air, and cannot be good to breathe again. It 
 follows then that when many people are together in a 
 confined space, such as a room in a house, or a church, 
 there ought to be plenty of opportunity for fresh out- 
 ward air to come in ; for it is always willing to rush 
 into the places where it is needed, if there are only 
 openings enough for it. Remember this wherever you 
 may be. 
 
 Again, flame requires to be fed with just that same 
 part of the air that our blood gathers up for its re- 
 freshment. What then should be done in a room 
 where gas or many candles are burning ? Why, an 
 abundance of fresh air should be let in, that both 
 people and gas may be supplied. If not, the air will 
 be spoilt. Many plants kept in a room help to spoil 
 the air, for plants require that very same nourishing 
 part .of the air that flame and our blood require.
 
 LESSON XIII. 43 
 
 LESSON XIII. 
 
 I wish to recall your attention at this time to the 
 purpose I had in view when I began to give you these 
 Lessons. My meaning has all along been to help 
 you to understand what your place is amongst God's 
 works, and how you can best do your part to fill it 
 rightly. We have spent twelve mornings in consi- 
 dering the nature and powers of our bodies, although 
 these very bodies are not really ourselves, for they 
 will die and pass away, while our minds or souls, 
 which are our real selves, will live for ever. It has 
 not been time wasted, however, because I have shown 
 you, in the course of my Lessons, how very closely 
 the mind and the body are connected, and that, if 
 we only understand the matter, it is quite plain that 
 the very nature of our bodies gives the mind straight- 
 forward duties to perform; and these duties I have 
 from time to time pointed out to you, and I shall 
 often question you upon them. You have learned 
 some of the various uses and powers of the body ; we 
 will now go oil to inquire what are the various powers 
 of the mind. 
 
 In teaching you about the body, I have tried to 
 show you in each part, what God has done for you ; 
 and next, what remains for you to do. It is no less 
 true, that He has given certain powers to our minds, 
 which we can either use for good purposes, or abuse 
 for bad purposes, or neglect altogether. To find out
 
 44 LESSON XIII. 
 
 what these powers are, you must first think what it 
 is that you mean by the mind. The mind is that 
 part of us which consists of thoughts ; whether they 
 are good thoughts, or wicked thoughts, or foolish or 
 mistaken thoughts. These thoughts are gathered by 
 us in different ways. When we are very young, quite 
 tiny babies, we do not at first notice anything ; but a 
 baby has not been born very long, before it is pleased 
 with a candle, or the fire, and we see that it is begin- 
 ing to observe. Here, then, is one power awakening 
 observation. A child soon shows another, which is 
 memory. It has had pleasure from one object, and 
 pain from some other, and will show that it remem- 
 bers them when brought into his sight. In this way 
 it learns to love those persons who are kind and 
 gentle, and to fear those who are angry, and loud, 
 and rough. Now, when you were infants, such as I 
 have been speaking of, you had no means of guiding 
 yourselves, and were just like the young lambs, or 
 kittens, that know neither right nor wrong. But I 
 will ask you whether you have not all forgotten that 
 time ? I think you have, and that there is not a girl 
 here that has not known, as long as she can remem- 
 ber, what it is to do right, and what it is to do wrong. 
 Since you were babies then, there has come to you a 
 power of distinguishing the difference between things ; 
 and besides this, you also find that you can choose 
 what you will do when two different things offer. 
 Here, then, we come to that which you have to do
 
 LESSON XIII. 45 
 
 for your own minds. If you fill your minds with the 
 love of all that is good and beautiful, with care for 
 others instead of pleasure for yourselves, and if you 
 long to imitate good people whom you have read of 
 or have known, it is most likely that when you are 
 tempted to do wrong, you will choose to do right. 
 At any rate, not a day nor an hour passes but we 
 have, every one of us, to exert that power of the mind 
 called the Will. Suppose you wake in the morning, 
 and know that it is time for you to be up, and you 
 have the good thought in your mind that you will at 
 once rise and enter on your duties ; perhaps, in a 
 moment, the bad thought comes into your mind that 
 you will lie a little longer, for you are sleepy, and the 
 weather is cold. Do you not see that it is your will 
 that must decide, whether you act upon the good 
 thought or upon the bad one ? It is you that must 
 get up, and no one can do it for you. There are two 
 questions that I wish to put before you, and I will 
 try to answer them by degrees. If God has placed 
 us here with minds that can observe, and remember, 
 and love, and fear, and with wills that can choose how 
 we will act, what has He done it for ? and what is the 
 meaning of all that we see around us in the universe ? 
 I believe that He has created us as we are, with 
 minds to learn and wills to choose, for the one pur- 
 pose of blessing ourselves and others ; for the purpose 
 of happiness ; and I believe that all we see around us 
 is intended to increase our knowledge, and to give us
 
 46 LESSON XIV. 
 
 the means of being good and doing good. In future 
 Lessons I will tell you many of my reasons for think- 
 ing so. 
 
 LESSON XIV. 
 
 In one of the earliest Lessons that I gave you, I told 
 you how in the world we live on, we perceive different 
 degrees of perfection in God's works, and that animals 
 are more perfect than plants, and that we are the 
 most perfect of animals. Perhaps it has never struck 
 you that other animals do not improve as man does ; 
 at any rate it is not by their own intention or clever- 
 ness or goodness, if they do. The lions and ele- 
 phants and camels of this year live, and eat, and fight, 
 and take care of themselves, just in the same way that 
 the animals did five hundred years ago ; and the clever 
 beaver builds in the water and dams up the stream, 
 just as well the first time he tries as all the other bea- 
 vers did before him, and he does not alter or improve 
 upon his work. In this he is not like you, and I want 
 greatly to interest you in this part of the subject. It 
 is a common thing for people to say and to think, that 
 man is superior to the lower animals because he has 
 knowledge and can think or reason. It is quite true 
 that having minds is being superior to animals, but it 
 appears to me that merely knowing, or understand- 
 ing things, is doing very little towards goodness,
 
 LESSON XIV. 47 
 
 or towards a fitness for dwelling in a better world. 
 For this reason I feel sure that the great difference 
 between ourselves and the brute animals, and for 
 which we ought to be most grateful, is, that we have 
 the means, within ourselves, of perpetual progress and 
 improvement. I know that I am speaking to several 
 girls who will leave school before long, and I am 
 anxious to persuade them, above all others, that they 
 must not think that they are to leave off improv- 
 ing themselves, just at the very time, too, when other 
 people leave off trying to improve them. When you 
 leave school you will have new and different things to 
 employ you, new difficulties and temptations, and 
 new pleasures ; but let me ask this, will you not have 
 the same minds, with all their powers ready to be used 
 and improved ? will you not carry away what you did 
 not take to school, I mean the power of reading, of 
 writing, of doing useful work, and a good deal of in- 
 formation about curious and beautiful things in the 
 world, and about the lives of good men and women ? 
 and will you not have the same God watching over 
 you that you had in your school- days, seeing how you 
 obey him and His Son ? You cannot seriously believe 
 all this without at least wishing to know how to do the 
 best for your own minds and characters, and it is this 
 that I wish to help you to do. First, put clearly into 
 your minds that God's two greatest gifts to us all are 
 the power of Goodness and the power of Knowledge, 
 and these two gifts are equally valuable to us in all
 
 48 LESSON XIV. 
 
 parts of our lives, quite as much after leaving school 
 as while there. We have been so created that we can 
 enjoy a great deal of pleasure from gathering know- 
 ledge together, but no amount of knowledge will serve 
 to make us happy if we are without goodness. So I 
 have placed goodness first. Let us see what qualities 
 are needed in order to have goodness and knowledge. 
 You cannot have either of them without using your 
 powers of observation and attention. I told you that 
 little infants begin soon to observe. They watch 
 bright lights, and people's cheerful countenances ; then 
 the plays of brothers and sisters. By-and-by they 
 learn that the fire is burning hot, and the stairs steep ; 
 that rain wets them, and sunshine makes them warm ; 
 and, better still, they learn that there is pleasure in 
 being kissed for standing still to be washed, or for 
 waiting patiently for supper, and pain in displeasing 
 father or mother by naughty ways. All these things 
 you learned very early, and all that you have acquired 
 since has been done by observing and attending, but 
 you are not all alike as to what you know and can do. 
 I suppose you observe that in the same class, some 
 girls are in the habit of having their sums " come 
 right," while others are almost sure to have theirs 
 wrong ; that, of two girls who have learned to sew 
 for five years, one can finish a shirt neatly, while the 
 other cannot turn out an even seam ; and that some 
 girls can explain a passage or give an account of a 
 thing, that others appear to have no notion of. It is
 
 LESSON XV. 49 
 
 a dangerous habit to suppose that it is cleverness that 
 succeeds, and that if we are not clever we need not 
 try to excel. The real truth is, that the most success- 
 ful and useful people in the world, and the best scholars 
 in a school, are not remarkable for cleverness, gene- 
 rally, but always for bestowing attention on what they 
 study. Girls who are giddy and idle at school, when 
 reproved, sometimes comfort themselves by thinking, 
 " Well, I have not long to be at school, and then I 
 shall go to service, or to a business, and all this trouble 
 will be over." No, this trouble will soon appear 
 small to you compared with the great new troubles 
 that will come upon you in your untried situation. 
 At school your want of attention only gets yourself 
 into trouble and disgrace ; but when you undertake to 
 serve other people, either in their shops or houses, 
 or even to help in home cares, a whole household will 
 soon be made to feel annoyance and dismay from 
 your mistakes and carelessness. 
 
 LESSON XV. 
 
 In the last Lesson, I told you that you would get 
 into sad troubles, and do much mischief, in after-life, if 
 you carry away from school habits of inattention and 
 want of thought, yet all the while you may not be 
 really wicked or badly disposed. But if these habits 
 not only prevent you from being useful, but lead you
 
 50 LESSON XV. 
 
 to commit mischief, you see that goodness, as well as 
 knowledge, requires you to exert and improve the 
 power of attention. As long as you are at school, 
 you cannot do better than take each lesson as it 
 comes, and determine to get the greatest good you 
 can from it; but when you leave school, you must 
 try some other ways of improving your attention, for 
 it may be done in a great many ways, especially in 
 the next ten years of your lives, and I will tell you 
 some of the things that I would advise you to do. 
 
 If any girl here is conscious that she makes blunders 
 in her copybook, and mistakes in her sums, spells the 
 same word wrongly a dozen times, and forgets mes- 
 sages she has to give, and all because she is thinking 
 of playtime, or watching her schoolfellows, I advise 
 that girl (as I said before) to take the very next 
 school-lesson that comes, and see how much she can 
 possibly learn from it ; and so on with other lessons. 
 But beside this, I advise her to train herself out of 
 school also. Even in the playground a girl may be 
 inattentive. If she is playing at a game with others, 
 she may spoil their fun by not attending to the rules. 
 Let a careless girl determine to play well, as well as to 
 work thoroughly. 
 
 Let her also think whether she can make herself 
 do two or three little things at home, every day, that 
 will do good to some other person, and improve her- 
 self at the same time. 
 
 The very first thing I will mention is about neat-
 
 LESSON XV. 51 
 
 ness of clothing, and I do think that when your busy 
 mothers spare you to come to school, and pay the 
 money for you, they have a right to expect that their 
 daughters will soon learn to sew on buttons and hooks, 
 when wanted. One day lately I saw a frock that had 
 no fastenings ; it was pinned with five white pins ! 
 Now, I believe that your mothers will readily give 
 you a button or a hook, if you ask for one and say 
 that you will put it on. Learn then to attend to this' 
 one piece of neatness, and other things will follow. 
 No rules or advice that I can give you will be of any 
 use to you however, unless you have a strong wish to 
 improve and to make full use of the powers that God 
 has given you. If you try my plans out of mere 
 curiosity, and if you think that it does not much 
 signify, after all, whether you are diligent or idle, I 
 feel sure that you will very soon give way to the 
 temptation to do only what amuses you ; but if any 
 girl should have gained a new idea of the powers she 
 has in her possession, to be good and do good to others, 
 and will begin to exert those powers on the very next 
 occasion, she will find, amidst a good many failures, 
 a kind of satisfaction quite new to her, and which will 
 help her on to new efforts and success. What I advise 
 you to do then is to determine to put your whole mind 
 into whatever you have to do. Play heartily in your 
 leisure time, but be sure to know what the clock says, 
 that you may be punctual to your next business. 
 Think at night whether you have done all that you 
 
 D 2
 
 52 LESSON XV. 
 
 planned to do, and whether your clothes are in need 
 of any little mending that you can manage, so as to 
 be tidy at school next day. If you have been care- 
 less scholars, your greatest difficulties will be in your 
 lessons; but take courage, and a few steady trials will 
 show you two things, not only that you can attend if 
 you choose, but that there is a great deal of pleasure 
 and interest in really understanding the lessons you 
 have at school, though none at all in yawning away 
 the hour and being scolded at the end. All this ap- 
 plies to your school life, in which you have the best 
 means of learning to apply your attention earnestly. 
 We will now suppose that you are leaving school and 
 going to various situations. If you were to find great 
 difficulty in learning or remembering any particular 
 parts of your new business or occupation, it would be 
 useful to you to write down for yourselves a list of 
 these particular things, with the directions your em- 
 ployer has given you. Look at this list very often, 
 till you have fallen into the right habits ; keep up the 
 custom of reading, by having always some one book 
 that is really worth reading ; but read it through, and 
 be sure that you understand it. You would find it a 
 good habit to write in a little book the text of the 
 sermon that you have heard on a Sunday ; this you 
 might do on the Sunday evening, and then think over 
 what was said in the sermon. All these things you 
 may every one of you do after leaving this school.
 
 LESSON XVI. 53 
 
 LESSON XVI. 
 
 You must now be quite certain, I think, that you 
 cannot get knowledge without making good use of 
 your powers of observation and of attention ; but will 
 these be enough to bring you to goodness ? I am sure 
 that they will not. When we are told that a person 
 is a very learned man or woman, and a very clever 
 man or woman, we think at once of that person hav- 
 ing studied hard, and having read many books, and 
 learned to have skill in various ways; but still we 
 should not know whether that were a good person. 
 On the contrary, when we hear a man or a woman 
 spoken of with love and admiration as a good person, 
 what is it that we at once feel that we know about 
 them ? I, for one, cannot help feeling that that person 
 is using the power called the will, in order to do his 
 duty, or in other words, he has learned to obey con- 
 science. Remember then, that just as you must 
 exercise yourselves in observing and attending in order 
 to gain knowledge, you must still more earnestly ex- 
 ercise your determination or will, in obeying your 
 conscience in all things, or you will fail to be good. 
 Now, what sort of a good person would you like to 
 be ? Would you not choose for your friend, one who 
 is cheerful, kind, and gentle, who not only does what 
 is right, but who feels affectionately for you ; who is 
 sorry when you are unhappy, and who would put 
 aside any amusement, in order to attend to your
 
 54 LESSON XVI. 
 
 wants ? Such a person, I am sure, you would like to 
 call your friend, and I will tell you what such a per- 
 son is full of, it is love ; and he who is full of love 
 for others, is sure to be without selfishness, that very 
 common but most unlovely quality. If we could re- 
 member at all times what this world is, and look at 
 our own place in it, we should see how sadly far we 
 are from imitating God's ways, and acting according 
 to His desires, when we lead a selfish and quarrel- 
 some life. Here is a description of Man, which some 
 of you know, I dare say: "The father, the mother, 
 and the children, make a family, all these dwell in 
 one house ; they sleep beneath one roof, they eat of 
 the same bread, they are very closely united, and are 
 dearer to each other than any strangers : if one is 
 sick, they mourn together ; and if one is happy, they 
 rejoice together. 
 
 "Many houses are built together; many families 
 live near one another ; they meet together in pleasant 
 walks, and to buy and sell ; and the sound of the bell 
 calleth them to the house of God in company. If 
 one is poor, his neighbour helpeth him ; if he is sad, 
 he comforteth him ; this is a village. If there be very 
 many houses, it is a town. Many towns and a large 
 extent of country, make a kingdom ; the inhabitants 
 thereof are countrymen ; they speak the same lan- 
 guage : a king is the ruler thereof. 
 
 " Many kingdoms and countries, full of people, and 
 islands, and large continents, make up this whole
 
 LESSON XVI. 00 
 
 world ; God governeth it ; the people swarm upon the 
 face of it like ants upon a hillock. All are God's 
 family; He knoweth every one of them, as a shepherd 
 knoweth his flock ; they pray to Him in different lan- 
 guages, but He understandeth them all ; He heareth 
 them all; He taketh care of all. Nations of the 
 earth, fear the Lord ! families of men, call upon the 
 name of your God !" 
 
 Here is a picture of the great family of men, of 
 whom God is the all- wise and loving Father ; for so 
 He permits us to call Him. Well, if He is our Father, 
 then must He not wish us to be something like 
 brothers and sisters to each other? And between 
 brothers and sisters ought there not to be love and 
 kindness? Yes, surely. Then try to strengthen in 
 yourselves the feeling of love, which we may call also 
 the desire to give pain to no one, and to make every- 
 body about us happy. Of course we cannot love all 
 people equally, but we can desire the good of all, and 
 we can take care not to injure even a stranger. By 
 creating families, it is plain, I think, that God ex- 
 pects our home to be the place where the warmest 
 love and kindness must dwell ; but by placing many 
 families together in villages and towns, and then 
 calling himself our " Father," I feel sure that God also 
 intends that neighbours should have kind feelings 
 and helpful ways towards one another, as brethren 
 who are to make one family in Heaven. 
 
 I cannot but remember that each girl I see is a
 
 56 LESSON XVII. 
 
 member of the great human family, and you are all 
 old enough to understand this, and to have the plea- 
 sure of finding out what you ought to be and to do, 
 in order to please God, by adding your mite to the 
 happiness of the world. 
 
 It will be well for us to consider, what your share 
 ought to be in making a happy home ; and after that 
 we will try to find out what you can do for other 
 persons around you in this town, in which you are 
 placed. 
 
 LESSON XVII. 
 
 I have seen a description of a family such as we 
 may meet with any day in any part of England. I 
 wish that they were very common indeed, but I am 
 happy to know that there are some such. Let each girl 
 that hears me try to fancy herself one of that family. 
 First, think of a hard-working father, who chooses to 
 be punctual at his labour, and who will take no plea- 
 sure till his work is done ; a man tender and kind by 
 nature, but who will not see his masters cheated or 
 robbed, and who tells the truth always, even to his 
 own hurt. His wife, thoughtful and clever and busy 
 as she is in her own little house, will yet leave her 
 rest by the fireside, or even her bed, to comfort or 
 nurse a sick neighbour. There is a dear old granny 
 too; and see how her eyes sparkle, and her pale cheek
 
 LESSON XVII. 57 
 
 warms, while she is telling tales to the children about 
 good and brave men, who ventured their lives for 
 others, or who chose to be put to death rather than 
 tell a lie. There is a little maid-servant too in this 
 house, but she has gone out to the shop, quite anxious 
 till she could pay back twopence that had been given 
 to her by mistake, in change. The eldest girl is de- 
 licate, and has a poor appetite. A good-natured neigh- 
 bour offered her a slice of tempting rich cake, but she 
 refused it at once, knowing that her mother would 
 fear it for her. Her brother has just asked a younger 
 one to throw a very little water over him in the morn- 
 ing, to make him get up, which he finds very difficult. 
 I dare say you would like to know a great deal more 
 about that family, but the few things I have told you 
 are useful and pleasant to think upon. Let us con- 
 sider what good qualities and feelings these people 
 were cultivating. I suppose you observe that the 
 great, leading principles of that family were Truth 
 and Conscientiousness. They knew what was right, 
 and they made their wills do it. Of all happy house- 
 holds, that is the happiest where falsehood is never 
 thought of. And can you not guess, without being 
 told, that the family I have described to you is a 
 happy family ? I perceive that there must be Love 
 amongst that household ; I know it by the pity the 
 mother has for her sick neighbour; by the trouble 
 the old granny takes to get the little ones round her 
 chair, for a tale ; by the consideration the eldest girl 
 
 D 3
 
 58 LESSON XVII. 
 
 has for her dear mother's wishes ; and by the trust 
 the eldest boy has that his little brother will oblige 
 him. Punctuality and Industry there must be in 
 that family, or the father would not be so anxious 
 about his work, nor his son to be aroused by cold 
 water, nor would the- wife have time to give to her 
 neighbours, without industry. Self-denial, too, she 
 practises in giving up her own repose, and it seems 
 that her girl has learned it also in being able to 
 refuse what tempted her appetite. Now, perhaps you 
 think that if you were but one of that very family, 
 you too could be like them, but that it is of no use 
 to expect to do the same in your particular case. If 
 I were to ask why you cannot do so, I believe you 
 could not find me one good reason. Do you think 
 that God desires truth, and love, and industry, and 
 self-denial from only a few of us? I will tell you 
 from what people he expects them. He expects them 
 from all, even children, who have learned to know 
 what they mean, and therefore you cannot wonder 
 that I wish you to make strong resolutions to do 
 your duty, because you are here taught what your 
 duty is. You already know what it is to be truthful, 
 and what it is to be deceitful ; you know what it is 
 to do a right thing, when you yet feel tempted to do 
 the wrong one ; you know what loving, kind feelings 
 are; you know the difference between industry and 
 idleness. Are you not sure that you know these 
 things? Well then, your home is the place where
 
 LESSON XVIII. 59 
 
 you can best put all these things in practice, and I 
 advise each of you to consider in which of these qua- 
 lities she is most apt to fail. If it be in truthfulness, 
 oh ! let this very day be the beginning of a quite new 
 habit. Why do I pick out that one fault ? It is be- 
 cause it spoils all happiness and ease of mind, and 
 takes away all confidence in you. You would have 
 very little pleasure in feeling that you had been par- 
 ticularly active, or that you had done a good-natured 
 action, or that you had been punctual at school, if on 
 the same day you had told your mother or some one 
 else a lie, or had deceived them in any way. But 
 if you had gained a victory over yourself, and had 
 bravely told the truth, and felt you had nothing to 
 hide, I can assure you that you would go cheerfully 
 on, and would find it much easier to learn other good 
 and right things. 
 
 LESSON XVIII. 
 
 I promised to show you something of your duties 
 in your homes, and also beyond your homes, and 
 amongst friends and neighbours. It is not when you 
 are young, however, that you can do much beyond 
 your own home ; and your share in making a part of 
 a happy household ought to occupy you chiefly. 
 Yours is now the learning age, the age for gathering 
 up knowledge, and forming habits that will give you
 
 60 LESSON XVIII. 
 
 the means of being very useful when you are women. 
 There is no harm, but a great deal of good, in sometimes 
 looking forward a few years, so as to make a better 
 preparation for the times that must come if God gives 
 you life. There is so much that every woman can do 
 to make those around her happy, that it is impossible 
 to begin too early to take pleasure in helping others. 
 Every time you do a bit of washing, or of cleaning, 
 or of mending, to help your tired mothers, you are 
 not only useful to them now, but you are practising 
 those things which will be your daily and hourly work 
 when you are women. Whenever you take a little 
 brother and sister out of your mother's way, and make 
 daisy-chains with them, or teach them little verses, or 
 to hold a needle or a pencil, and prevent them from 
 quarrelling or learning naughty tricks, you are useful 
 at the time, and you are making love spring up to- 
 wards you; but you are also getting experience for 
 those years when all your time will be required by 
 those who will be dependent upon you. You know 
 that I think one's home is the place that we must 
 never neglect. A woman's first duty is to make her 
 family comfortable as far as she has the power. Let 
 the house be ever so poor, she can yet keep it clean 
 and orderly ; if the food is scanty and very plain, she 
 can cook it properly, and set it neatly on the table ; 
 if there be children, she can keep their bodies clean, 
 speak gently to them, and teach them to be honest, 
 and she can give a cheerful welcome to the father 
 when he conies home.
 
 LESSON XVIII. 61 
 
 I cannot help thinking, however, that if children 
 were led, very early, to find real pleasure in helping 
 others, we should see more women who could find time 
 to do something beyond keeping their own families 
 tidy. I suppose you all feel that there are plenty of 
 people around you who are poorer than you are, much 
 more ignorant than you are, and much more in danger 
 of falling into wickedness than you are. I am afraid 
 that some of you think more about the rich people 
 above you than about those who are less happy and 
 less favoured than yourselves. What I should like to 
 see in the world is this, that each person in his own 
 place, whether rich or poor, should be so thankful for 
 whatever blessings he enjoys, that he should be anxious 
 to give any one worse off than himself some part of 
 the good things he possesses. People who have much 
 money are expected to give a good deal away, and they 
 generally do so, but many things may be given even 
 more precious than money, and any of you can give 
 them if you choose. I will tell you something about 
 a real person, that will show you what I mean. There 
 was a school-girl some years since, who, when one of 
 her teachers married and went to a distance, became 
 servant to this lady, and nursed her young children. 
 The girl was always fond of books, and, fortunately 
 for her, the lady was willing to help her on with her 
 learning, for she thought that a nursemaid ought to 
 be able to answer children's questions in a sensible 
 way, and to talk to them and amuse them with some-
 
 62 LESSON XVIII. 
 
 thing better than nonsense. After some years the ser- 
 vant left her place, and was soon married to a steady, 
 excellent young man, and they had a little daughter. 
 Their time of happiness together was not long, for 
 the young man died ; but he was willing to go when 
 God called him, and to leave his wife and child in 
 God's keeping. The child is now nearly grown up, 
 and how has the time been passed, do you think? 
 Why, the mother considered how she could best earn 
 enough to support them, and now her habits of read- 
 ing and gathering all sorts of knowledge came to her 
 aid. She opened a small school, and by means of the 
 greatest care and self-denial she has managed to keep 
 a small, neat house, and to support herself and 
 daughter. Many people do this, and they think them- 
 selves very praiseworthy because they do not get into 
 debt, but they live on without thinking of any but 
 themselves and their children. Now the person I 
 have been telling you about is full of love for others ; 
 she would feel it selfish to spend all her time and 
 thoughts on herself and her child, and she could not 
 rest if she did not give from her own stores to those 
 who are in a less happy condition than herself. Now 
 what has she to give ? Certainly not food nor clothes 
 nor money, for of all these she is sometimes rather 
 bare, and has to work for every penny. It is her little 
 spare time, her knowledge, and her experience that 
 she gives. She collects a few grown-up young women, 
 or orphans, or other neglected ones, in her little
 
 LESSON XIX. 63 
 
 school-room in an evening, and teaches them many 
 useful things. Having been a servant herself, she 
 can give advice to thoughtless girls who may have 
 thrown themselves out of place, and many a careless 
 and ignorant young creature has to thank the poor 
 and often weakly schoolmistress who kindly and gently 
 has led her into right ways. You may not be able 
 to do exactly the same, but I am quite sure that, 
 whatever your way of life may be, you may always 
 find some persons to whom you can be both kind and 
 useful. 
 
 LESSON XIX. 
 
 We have now very nearly reached the end of this 
 course of Lessons ; and I am going to refer to some 
 words I used on the very first day, that you may be 
 led to see how to apply the thoughts which have from 
 time to time been set before you. In the first Lesson 
 I used the following words : " These girls are, for 
 the most part, merry, happy school-girls; they are 
 daughters ; most of them are sisters ; all of them are 
 persons, human beings, who are living every hour 
 with other human beings, and who are, moreover, 
 fast growing out of childhood, and are likely to be- 
 come the mothers, guardians, and teachers of another 
 set of children, who will perhaps sit on these very 
 benches, and learn where their mothers learned."
 
 64 LESSON XIX. 
 
 Changing the order a little, I should wish you often 
 to call to mind all that you have learned from my 
 Lessons, as to your place and duties in the world, 
 remembering first that you are persons, or human 
 beings ; and after that, that you are daughters, sisters, 
 school-girls, and neighbours, now, and that if you live, 
 you will also be women, with all a woman's duties to 
 be either performed or neglected by you. If you will 
 keep this short, but very comprehensive list in your 
 minds, you will not find it difficult to remember many 
 of the things you have been taught on each head; 
 and the longer you live, and the more you reflect, the 
 more you will be able to find out for yourselves the 
 right way to live and act. I will now remind you of 
 a few thoughts under each head. First, you are hu- 
 man beings. Remember often all that you know 
 about what it is that makes a human being different 
 from stones and plants, and even from those living 
 creatures that we call brute animals. Think of and 
 admire the many wonders in your own bodies, that 
 have been pointed out to you, and resolve that your 
 bodies shall not be neglected nor injured for want of 
 your care ; but show your greatest reverence for that 
 gift of a soul, by which God allows us to feel that we 
 are made " in His image." llemember that you did 
 not and could not make yourselves, nor place your- 
 selves on this earth, but that God has placed you here 
 and given you every power that you can want, in order 
 to be happy and to make others happy. He has given
 
 LESSON XIX. 65 
 
 you no power without intending that you should use 
 it ; limbs for healthy work and joyful exercise ; lungs 
 for breathing pure and strengthening air; ears to 
 hear the human voice, and all sweet sounds ; eyes to 
 perceive daily wonders and beauties. But, best of all, 
 he has given you the power of collecting thoughts, by 
 which your minds may be fed and made to grow, as 
 long as life lasts; and all along, you should carry 
 with you the feeling, that the more you can lead a 
 holy life here, the fitter will you be for entrance into 
 the unknown but promised happiness of a future life. 
 Remember to train your minds to every good and 
 useful habit, above all, to the constant one of listening 
 to conscience, and then obeying it. This alone will 
 make you a worthy human being. If you act upon 
 these thoughts, it will be easy for you to find out and 
 remember your duty as daughters. Not till you are 
 women yourselves, will you thoroughly understand all 
 that your parents have done and suffered for you; 
 but you have only to watch any baby at all to know 
 what care you required yourselves as infants ; and to 
 this very day you owe all that you possess, all that is 
 necessary for your bodies, and the means of gaining 
 knowledge at school, to the industry and care of your 
 parents. Remember that they have to toil and to 
 provide, while you have at present little else to do 
 than to enjoy what they provide; they have many 
 anxieties for their family that you know nothing 
 about. Should you sometimes meet with angry words,
 
 DO LESSON XIX. 
 
 or fretful complaints from them, search your own be- 
 haviour, and see whether you have not yourselves to 
 blame for some want of obedience, or carefulness, or 
 helpfulness towards them. If you cannot blame your- 
 selves, and yet see that the misconduct of some other 
 of the family has fretted your parents, it will be all 
 the more necessary that they should find comfort in 
 your good example and tenderness toward themselves. 
 And next, as sisters, how much is in your power ! 
 Here is the force of example for you to remember : as 
 is the eldest of a family, so, generally, are the younger 
 ones. Little children are only too apt to strike a 
 blow, or to push down a companion who may have 
 chanced to teaze them; but if they have a selfish, 
 lazy, cross, elder sister, they are sure to follow her 
 example, and every bad feeling will soon flourish in 
 that unhappy home. But the bright, loving, orderly, 
 obedient, and active girl, is sure to have a little troop 
 of loving brothers and sisters, who will as naturally 
 feel her influence and follow her example, as the 
 flowers lift up their heads to the sunshine, 
 
 As school-girls, I need not say over again much 
 about the absolute necessity of industry and attention, 
 because without these you might as well be asleep in 
 your beds. I wish, however, that you would all 
 regard your school studies as mere tools, with which 
 you will work in after-life, to improve and enrich 
 your own minds, and those of others. The last head 
 I have to notice is that of neighbour. You will do
 
 LESSON XX. 67 
 
 more for your neighbours when you are grown up 
 than you can do now. Your principal neighbours, 
 just now, are your schoolfellows; see that you set 
 them a good example. 
 
 LESSON XX. 
 
 This is the last Lesson that you will receive, at 
 present, on the subject of your own guidance and 
 improvement ; but before we leave it, I wish to give 
 you some fuller advice than I have done, as to your 
 choice of employments in your spare time. It is very 
 easy to advise you to read, and to keep up your habit 
 of writing ; but it is not at all likely that you will 
 choose the best things to read and to write, unless 
 you have some help in choosing. You are so much 
 accustomed to see books of every size, and on all 
 kinds of subjects, in school, in your homes, in shop 
 windows, on stalls in the streets, and at railways, and 
 public conveyances generally, together with hundreds 
 of newspapers and such cheap prints, that you have 
 but little idea of the scarcity and small choice of 
 books that your grandparents and even your parents 
 had to put up with. Of course it is a grand and 
 delightful thing to see a fine nation like ours provided 
 with cheap books, and also with libraries, and insti- 
 tutions, where the reading of many books may be had 
 for a very small sum of money indeed ; but most good
 
 68 LESSON XX. 
 
 things have some dangers belonging to them, and 
 this blessing of cheap literature has many dangers. 
 You can see at a glance, that not having time to read 
 all that falls in your way, a choice must be made. I 
 should like to give you some idea how to choose. I 
 dare say you will agree with me, when I say, that if 
 ten girls were turned into a library, with leave to 
 read what they pleased, nearly all, perhaps all, would 
 seize upon what we call " Tales," or " Story-books." 
 Is it not so ? I am sure that it is, and what is more, 
 I am sure that it is a natural desire, and not at all a 
 wrong one, and the reason is this : the tales you read 
 are pictures of life, and we are all extremely inter- 
 ested in hearing of the ways and doings, the sorrows 
 and the pleasures, the adventures and amusements of 
 other people. Girls and boys like to read of what 
 other girls and boys do, and mothers like to read the 
 experience of other mothers; but there are several 
 things to notice about this kind of reading. In the 
 first place it is so entertaining, and it gives you so 
 little trouble, that it offers a very great temptation to 
 you to neglect all other books. You will easily see 
 that it does not supply the place of more serious 
 study, by thinking of some of the very people who 
 have pleased you most in these very story-books. 
 If they were good, and wise, and interesting people, 
 think what it was that made them so. I am sure 
 that in no instance would you find that they were 
 always reading story-books. If they were good for
 
 LESSON XX. 69 
 
 anything, I am sure that they were always either 
 learning or doing something useful, and that such 
 reading was merely their occasional refreshment. 
 Then, do not be satisfied with merely reading their 
 histories, but try to imitate the best people that you 
 read of. Another danger about story-books, is that 
 there are more foolish and hurtful story-books, than 
 of any kind of books. Whenever you can get a book 
 recommended to you by some well-informed friend, 
 older than yourself, do so, and it is particularly need- 
 ful when you want a book of entertainment. It is 
 very natural also, that you should look with great in- 
 terest on those books which relate to your particular 
 business. Those of you who will soon go to service, 
 may find interest in several little books on the duties 
 of servants, and I hope that all such girls will read 
 the book called ( Millie, and her Four Places/ You 
 may learn many useful things from books intended to 
 help servants, but nothing will make you good ser- 
 vants so well as experience and attention. 
 
 I hope you remember my having told you, more 
 than once, that I believe God intends all the wonders 
 and beauties around us to be for our happiness and 
 improvement. My strong advice to you is, then, that 
 you should make a habit of turning from your round 
 of daily toil and duty, as frequently as you have 
 leisure, to the making acquaintance with some por- 
 tion of God's works, or the studying of some of his 
 ways with man. You have been pleased with the
 
 70 LESSON XX. 
 
 little that I have taught you about our own frame. 
 You may meet with more knowledge of the kind, 
 and with things just as beautiful, regarding insects, 
 birds, and all other animals. I would advise you to 
 read a book called ' Common Objects of the Country ;' 
 but read one book all through before you take an- 
 other. Remember that, by the means of books, you 
 may become great travellers; and forgetting scrub- 
 bing-brush and needle for a time, you may sail across 
 oceans, and learn how God has fitted distant nations 
 to live where He has placed them, and to enjoy the 
 very different scenes and life of either burning Africa 
 or icy Greenland. 
 
 By books you may remove yourselves to other 
 times, and, forgetting the English house of to-day, in 
 which you are sitting, you may for awhile become the 
 companions of the great and good who have helped to 
 make the world what it is. Those of you who have had 
 any pleasure in reading at school the history of our 
 own country, will greatly enjoy studying a book called 
 ' Landmarks of the History of England/ Your walks 
 in the country, and your visits to museums, or to 
 exhibitions of painting, will all be made doubly en- 
 joyable by the information you will have been collect- 
 ing. There is one thing that is less taught in English 
 schools than in those of other parts of Europe, I 
 mean singing from printed or written music-notes, 
 and I am very sorry for it ; but those of you who 
 may have learned to do so, must have found it so
 
 LESSON XX. 71 
 
 pleasant, that I scarcely need advise them to keep up 
 the habit of singing in parts, with brothers and sisters 
 or other companions. 
 
 In ending these Lessons, let me recommend to you 
 the thoughts contained in the following lines : 
 
 " God entrusts to all 
 
 Talents few or many ; 
 None so young and small 
 
 That they have not any. 
 Though the great and wise 
 
 Have a greater number, 
 Yet my one I prize, 
 
 And it must not slumber. 
 
 " God will surely ask, 
 
 Ere I enter heaven, 
 Have I done the task 
 
 Which to me was given P 
 Little drops of rain 
 
 Bring the springing flowers, 
 And I may attain 
 
 Much by little powers. 
 
 " Every little mite, 
 
 Every little measure, 
 Helps to spread the light, 
 
 Helps to swell the treasure. 
 God entrusts to all 
 
 Talents few or many ; 
 None so young and small 
 That they have not any." 
 
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