Chapter VI: Part IV (2)

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LETTERS

TO MISS E. LLOYD

_Ecclesfield._ August 19, 1864.

MY DEAREST ELEANOR

It is with the greatest pleasure that I "sit down" and square my elbows to answer one question of your letter. The one about the Liturgical Lessons. Nothing (I find) is more difficult in this short life than to emulate John's example--and "explain my meaning!" but I will do my best. Beloved! In the first place I am going to do what I hope will be more to your benefit than my credit! Send you my rough notes. If you begin at the first page and read straight ahead to where allusion is made to the Apocryphal Lessons, you will have my first Course, and you will see that I was working by degrees straight through the Morning Prayer. But then (like the Turnip Tom-toddies!) we found that "the Inspector was coming"--and though the class was pretty well getting up "Matins"--it knew very little about the Prayer-book--so then I took a different tack. We left off minutiæ and Bible references and took to a sort of general sketch of the whole Prayer-book. For this I did not make fresh notes at the time--but when the Inspector came and I being too ill to examine them--M. did it--I wrote out in a hurry the questions and answers that follow the Apocrypha point for her benefit. My dear old Eleanor--I am such a bad hand myself--that I feel it perfectly ludicrous to attempt to help you--but here are a few results of my limited experience which are probably all wrong--but the best I have to offer!

Don't teach all the school.

Make up a "Liturgical Class" (make a favour of it if possible) of mixed boys and girls.

Have none that cannot read.

Tell them to bring their Prayer-books with them on the "Liturgy Day."

If any of them say they have none--let nothing induce you to supply them.

Say "Well, you must look over your neighbour, but you ought to have one for yourself--I can let you have one for _2d._, so when you go home, 'ask Papa,' and bring me the _2d._ next time."

Never give the Prayer-book "in advance"--! (I never _pressed_ the Prayer-books on them, or insisted on their having them. But gradually they all wanted to have them, and I used to take them with me, and they brought up their _2d._'s if they wanted any. The class is chiefly composed of Dissenters, but they never have raised any objection, and buy Prayer-books for children who never come to Church. The first prize last time was very deservedly won by the daughter of the Methodist Minister.)

If you know any that cannot afford them, give them in private.

Deal round the School Bibles to the Class for reference.

One's chief temptation is to attempt too much. The great art is to make a good _skeleton_ lesson of the leading points, and fill in afterwards.

_Wait_ a long time for your answers.

Repeat the question as simply as possible, and keep saying--Now _think_--_think_. One generally gets it in time.

Lead up to your answer: thus--

_Eleanor._ "S. Augustine was a missionary Priest from--now answer all together?"

_The whole Class._ Rome.

_Eleanor._ "Now who was S. Augustine?--All together."

The result probably will be that one or perhaps two will give the whole answer--and then you can say--

"That's right. But I want you all to say it. Now all together. Who was S. Augustine?"

Then you will get it from all.

If you don't mind it, the black board is often of great use. In this way--

[_Sketch._] X represents the black board.

Suppose you have undertaken for the day's lesson (a _long_ one!) to begin at the question of whether we know the exact date of the first introduction of Christianity into England and to go on to S. Augustine's Consecration. When you first arrive take your chalk and write--

S. PAUL
and draw a line;
----------------------------
then
ARLES . . . . . 314
NICÆA . . . . . 323
----------------------------
AUGUSTINE
ROME
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY
597
----------------------------

Make them read everything as you write it, telling them the words till they are familiar. Then "lead up to" the written words in your questions and point with the stick, so that they will finish the answer by reading it _all together_. Thus--"The Council of ---- (stick to Aries) in the year ---- (stick to 314)."

When you are _teaching_ a thing, make them answer all together. When you are examining what you have taught before, let those answer who can.

Of course my _notes_ give no idea of the way one teaches, I mean of course one has perpetually to use familiar examples, and go back and back--and _into_ things.

Put the more backward children _behind_ the others, and never let any of the _front row_ answer till the back row have tried.

If they are very young or backward, perhaps before you attempt anything like Church History, you might _familiarize_ them with the Prayer-book services--by making them find the places in their proper rotation--turn quickly to the Psalms for the Day. Make them find the Lessons for the Day, for Holy-days--Collect for the week--Baptism Service. In fact I should advise you to _begin_ so. Say for the first Lesson you take a CHRISTMAS DAY Service--make them look out everything in succession. Ask them what a Collect is--where the Lessons come from--who wrote the Psalms, etc. Make them understand how the Holy Communion is administered--suppose a Baptism--and make them explain--the two Sacraments in the words of the Catechism. (Never mind whether they understand it--one can't explain everything at once!)

Indeed I strongly advise you to go on this tack for some time.

Say that for the first lesson or two (the above is too advanced) you take _the Psalms_. Ask them what Book they were taken from, etc.--make them find them for the day, and show them where and how to find the Proper Psalms. In succeeding lessons, if you like, you can explain that the Psalms are translations--and why the Bible and Prayer-book versions are different--show which are the seven Penitential--(the three Morning and three Evening for Ash Wednesday and the 51st). Point out the latter as used as a general confession in the Commination Service--having been written on the occasion of David's fall. Also the Psalms of Degrees (the most exquisite of all I think!), which were used to be sung as the Jews came up from all parts of the land to Jerusalem--"I was glad when they said unto me," etc.

Tell them of any Psalms authentically connected with History--and any anecdotes or traditions that you can meet with connected with them. How S. Augustine and his band of missionaries first encountered the King with his choristers carrying the Cross and chanting Psalms to those Gregorians that Gregory (birch in hand!) had taught him in Rome, etc., etc.

I find they like stray anecdotes--and they are _pegs_ to hang things on. (Trevor says that our Blessed Lord is supposed to have repeated the _whole_ of the twenty-second Psalm on the Cross.) The "Hymn" sung before they went out after the Last Supper was a Psalm. (See marginal Bible notes.) You can do no greater kindness than give them an appreciation and interest in that inexhaustible store of "Prayer and Penitence and Praise"--that has put words into the mouth of the whole Church of God from the days of David to the present time, which is used by every Church (however else divided) in common--and rejected by no sect however captious!

Point out what Psalms are used in the course of the services--(like the _Venite_, etc.)

Don't be alarmed if the Psalms last you for months! you can't do better--and you must go over and over unless your bairns are Solomons! Make them understand that they were intended, and are adapted for singing.

_Get up_ your lessons beforehand--but teach as familiarly and as much with no book but the Prayer-book and Bible as you can.

Then you might take the Lessons in a similar fashion, and the Collects, etc.

Excuse all this ramble. I have no doubt I have bored you with a great deal of chaff--but I hardly know quite what you want to know. As to the subject--it is a Hobby with me--so excuse rhapsodies!

I don't believe you can confer a greater kindness than to make them well acquainted with their Prayer-books. I believe you may teach every scrap of necessary theology from it--the Life of Jesus in the Collects, and special services from Advent to Trinity--Practical duties and the _morale_ of the Gospel in the twenty-five Sundays of Trinity. Apostles--Martyrs--the Communion of Saints--and the Ministry of Angels in the rest. As to the History of Liturgies--it is simply the History of the Church. I believe the Prayer-book contains Prayer, Praise, Confession, Intercession and Ejaculation fitted to every need and occasion of all conditions of men!--with very rare if any exceptions. I believe in _ignorance_ of the Prayer-book the poor lose the greatest fund of instruction and consolation next to the Bible (and it is our best Commentary on that!) that is to be got at. And people's ignorance of it is _wonderful_! You hear complaints of the shifting of the services--the arrangement of the Lessons--and a precious muddle it must seem to any one who does not know--that Isaiah is skipped in the reading of the Old Testament--that as the Evangelical Prophet he may be read at the Advent and Nativity of Christ--that we dip promiscuously into the Apocrypha on Saints' Days--because those books are read "for example of life and instruction of manners"--and not to establish doctrine, etc., etc. Somebody has compiled a straight ahead Prayer-book, and I fancy it will be found very useful--about the same time that we get a royal road to learning--or that services compiled on the most comprehensive and comprehensible system by men of the highest and devoutest intellect for every age, class, sex, and succeeding generations of the Church of a whole country, can be made at the same time to fit the case of every ignoramus who won't take the trouble to do more than lick his thumb and turn over a page!!! If people would but understand that the shortest way to anything is to get at the first principles!! When one humbles oneself to learn those, the arrangement of the Liturgy becomes as beautiful and lovable a piece of machinery as that of Nature or God's Providence almost! and is just as provocative of ignorant complaint and sarcasm if one doesn't.

Oh! Eleanora! What _will_ you say to this sermon!!--My "lastly" is--teach your bairns the "why" their great-great-great-(very great!) Grandfathers put all these glorious Prayers together in their present order--and "when they are old they will not" ... need any modern wiseacres to help them to get blindfold from the _Venite_ to the Proper Psalms.

Adieu, beloved. Post time almost--and another letter to write. I have had a sort of double quinsy--but am better, thank God.

Your devoted and prosy,

JULIANA HORATIA GATTY.

The Books I have used are _Wheatley on the Common Prayer_, Hook's _Lives of the Archbishops_, and _Church Dictionary_, and anything I could get hold of. Get any decent book on the Psalms--compare the two versions--read the _prefaces_, _rubrics_, etc.--above all. Have you the Parker Society edition of Edward VI. Prayer-book?

To H.K.F.G.

_Hotel de l'Europe, Anvers._ September 22, 1865.

MY DEAREST D----,

"Here we are again!" at the Hotel Dr. Harvey recommended. The Captain of our boat said it was cheaper and better than S. Antoine. You must excuse a not very lively letter, for I am still so ill from the voyage. I can't get over it somehow at present, but shall be all right to-morrow. We enjoyed our day in Hull immensely! you will be amused to hear. At night we went to the Harvest Thanksgiving service at S. Mary's. Nice service, capital sermon, and crammed congregation. The decorations were scarlet geraniums, corn, evergreen, and grapes. The _Alster_ wasn't to time, but they said she would sail at four, so we slept on board. We "turned over" an awful night. R. and I wandered over the ship, and finally settled on the saloon benches. Then, however, the Captain came, and said he couldn't allow us to sleep there, so we sat up, for I couldn't breathe in the berth, and at last I think the Captain saw I really couldn't stand it, and told me to lie down again. At six we went on deck, and it was awfully jolly going up the Humber. At eight we got into the sea, and I didn't get my "shore legs" again till we got into the Scheldt this morning. At about three this morning I went on deck, and R. and I enjoyed it immensely, splendidly starlight, and we were just off Flushing, and the lights looked wonderful with the flat shore and a black windmill. Then the Captain gave me tea and packed me up in the saloon, and I slept till six, when T. came out and woke me, and we went "aloft." We were going down the Scheldt, and R. was in fits of delight because every tree you see is exactly like the trees in boxes of toys. Not a bit like English trees. The flat green banks and odd little villages (of which you can only see the _tops_ of the houses) were charming.

To M.S.G.

_Hotel de l'Europe, Antwerp._ Sunday, September 24, 1865.

MY DEAREST M.,

We are getting on capitally, and enjoying it immensely. I hope T. got home pretty well. I miss him dreadfully, tell him--especially to-day--for both Churches and pictures bore R. However, I have only taken him into one Church to-day, that of S. Jacques, where he really was pleased to see the tomb of Rubens. I have found the whereabouts of two other celebrated ones, and shall try to slip off without him. He is utterly happy when he has got a cigar, "tooling" up and down the streets, turning in at a café, or buying a peach, and doing "schneeze" with the "Flams." He does a little French now and then with people in the streets. I got into the Cathedral just in time to see the glorious Descent from the Cross, and (which I admire less) the Elevation ditto by Rubens. I must tell you this morning I went to high mass in the Cathedral. In fact I heard two masses and a _sermon in Flemish_. It was wonderful. A very intelligent-looking old priest in surplice and stole, in the huge carved pulpit, preached with the most admirable dramatic force, in a language that one can _all but_ understand. It is so like English and German. Every now and then I could catch a word. If you want to have an idea of the congregation, imagine the _nave_ of York Minster (the side aisles rather filled up by altars, etc.)--covered like a swarm of bees, with a congregation with really rare exceptions of Flemish poor. Flam women, men, and children, and a great many common soldiers. The women are dressed in white caps, and all have scarves (just like funeral scarves) of fine ribbed black silk; and, Flemish prayer-books in hand, they sit listening to the sermon. Then it comes to an end with some invocation of something, at which there is a scraping of chairs and everybody goes round to the Altar. Then organ, fiddles, all sorts of instruments, and a splendid "company" of singers--the musical Mass began.

* * * * *

It is all wonderful, and I feel laying up a store of happiness in going over it at home. How I wish some of you were here! I know my letters are very dull, and I am _so_ sorry. But though I have a famous appetite, and can walk and "sight-see" like anything, I have not got back my _nerve_. Somehow I can't describe it, but you must excuse my stupidity. I hope R. is happy. He says he is, and dreads it coming to an end!!! I am very glad, for I feel a heavy weight on _him_ and _he_ feels like reposing on a floating soap-bubble! We are as jolly as possible really, and nothing is left in me, but a rather strained nervous feeling, which will soon be gone. You would have laughed to see R. buying snuff to-day, and cigars. He goes in, lays his finger on the cigars, and says--"Poor wun frank?" To which the woman replies--"trieze," and he buys six and sneezes violently, on which she produces snuff, fills his box, and charges a trifle, and he abuses her roundly in English, with a polite face, to his own great enjoyment. We mean to make the cash hold out if possible to come home in the _Alster_. If it runs short, we shall give up Ghent and Bruges--this place alone is worth coming for.

Your ever loving sister, J.H.G.

To H.K.F.G.

_Hotel de Vieux, Doellen, The Hague._ September 27, 1865.

DEAREST D----,

This morning we had a great treat! We took an open carriage and drove from the Hague to Scheveningen on the coast. All the way you go through an avenue of elms, which is lovely. It is called "the Wood," and to the left is Sorgoliet, where the Queen mother lives, and which was planted, the man says, by Jacob Cats. He lived there. Scheveningen is a bare-looking shore, all sand, and bordered with sandbanks, or Dunes. It was _fiercely_ hot, scorching, and not an atom of shade to be had; but in spite of sun, slipping sandbank-seat, sand-fleas, and a hornet circling round, I did make a sketch, which I hope to finish at home. Both Regie and I bathed, and it was _delicious_--an utterly calm sea, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. The bathing machines seem to be a Government affair. They and the towels are marked with a _stork_, and you take a ticket and get your gown and towels from a man at a "bureau" on the sands. I must tell you, this morning when we came down, we found breakfasting in the _salle-à-manger_ our Dutch friend, the bulb merchant. We had our breakfast put at his table, and had a jolly chat. It was so pleasant! Like meeting an old friend. He has gone, I am sorry to say, but I have made great friends with Stephanie's father; he cannot speak a word of English, so we can only talk in such French as I can muster; but he is very pleasant, and his children are so nice! eight--four boys and four girls. The wife is Dutch, and I do not think can speak French, so I do not talk to her. After dinner the _maître d'hôtel_ asked us if we would not go to "the Wood" (on the road to Scheveningen), and hear the military band--so we went. I can't describe it. It was like nothing but scenes in a theatre. Pitch dark in all the avenues, except for little lamps like tiny tumblers fixed on to the trees, and so [_Sketch_] on to the Pavilion, which was lighted up by chains of similar lamps like an illumination--[_Sketch_]--and round which--seated round little green tables--were gathered, I suppose, about two thousand people. Their politeness to each other--the perfect good-behaviour, the quiet and silence during the music, and the buzz and movement when it was over, were wonderful. The music was very good. R. and I had each a tiny cup of coffee, and a little brandy and water, for it was very cold!! Now I have come in, and he has gone back, I think. Stephanie was there, and lots of children. As I lay awake last night I heard the old watchman go round. He beats two pieces of wood together and calls the hours of the night. I saw a funeral too, this morning, and the coachman wears a hat like this--[_Sketch_]. In the streets we have met men in black with cocked hats. They are "Ansprekers," who go to announce a man's death to his friends. The jewellery of the common women is marvellous; Mr. Krelage (our Dutch friend) says they have sometimes £400 of gold and jewels upon them!!! A common market woman I saw to-day wore a plate of gold under her cap of this shape--[_Sketch_]. Then a white [_Sketch_] lace cap. Then a bonnet highly-trimmed with flowers, and a white feather and green ribbons; and on her temples filagree gold and pearl, pins, brooches and earrings; round her neck three gold chains--one of many little ones together clasped by a gorgeous clasp--the next supporting a highly-elaborate gold cross--a longer one still supporting a heart and some other device. She had rings also, and a short common purple stuff dress which she took up when she sat down for fear of crushing it; no shawl and a black silk apron!!

_Thursday._ We have been to the Museum. Below is the "Royal Cabinet" of curiosities, and above are the pictures. Some of the former were _very_ interesting. The hat, doublet, etc. in which William the Silent was murdered--the pistol, two bullets, etc., and a copy of Balthazar Geraardt's condemnation, and his watch, on which were some beautiful little paintings. Admiral Ruiter's sabre, armour, chain and medal; Admiral Tromp's armour; Jacqueline of Bavaria's chair, and locks of her hair. Also a very curious model--a large baby-house imitating a Dutch _ménage_, intended by Peter the Great as a present to his wife. A wonderful toy!! R. was quite at home among the "relics." Besides historical relics, the cabinet contains the most marvellous collection of Japanese things. It is a most choice collection. There were some such funny things--a _fiancé_ and _fiancée_ of Japan in costume were killing! and made-up monsters like life-sized mummies of the most hideous demons! Besides indescribably exquisite workmanship of all sorts. The pictures are not so charming a collection as those at Antwerp, but there are some grand ones. Tell Mother--Paul Potter's Bull is too indescribable! His nose, his hair, and a frog at his feet are wonderful! There is a portrait by Rubens of his second wife that would have charmed T.; she is _lovely_, and the picture has that _sunshiny_ beauty he will remember in "S. Anne teaching the B.V.M." I suspect she was the model for his most lovable faces. There is a large and wonderful Rembrandt--a splendid collection of Wouvermans--the most charming Ruisdael I ever saw. Some beautiful Vandykes--a Van de Velde of Scheveningen, Teniers, Weenix, Snyders, etc. I do so wish M. could see the pictures, she would enjoy them so, and get more out of them than I can. The collection is _free_ to the public, and the utmost good behaviour prevails. After that R. went into the town, and I sat down to a hurried sketch on the "Vyfeiberg," a quiet sort of promenade. But gradually the populace collected, till I was nearly smothered. My veil blew over my face, and I suddenly felt it seized from behind, and looking round, found that a young baker in white had laid hold of it, but only to fasten it out of my way, as he began volubly to explain in Dutch! I couldn't speak, so remonstrance was impossible, and I let them alone. Soldiers, boys, women, etc.! I could hear them recognizing the various places. They were very polite, kept out of my line of sight, and decided that it was "Photogeraphee" like the people in Rotterdam! When we parted, I bowed to them and they to me!!! To-morrow we go back to Rotterdam for one night, the next day to Antwerp.

_Friday night. Michaelmas Day._ Hotel Pay Bas, Rotterdam.--Back again! and to-morrow at 8.15 a. m. we go back to dear old Antwerp. For the solemn fact has made itself apparent, that the money will not hold out till to-morrow week, as we intended. So we must give up our dear Captain, and come home in the _Tiger!!_ We shall be with you D.V. on Saturday week, starting on Wednesday from Antwerp. We have been to the Poste Restante, and got dear Mother's letter, to my infinite delight. I am so glad Miss Yonge likes "the Brownies."

Your ever loving, JUDY

TO MRS. GATTY.

_Sevenoaks_. January 12, 1866.

MY DEAR, DEAR MOTHER,

I do humbly beg your pardon for having written such scrappish, snappish, selfish letters! The tide of comfort has begun to set in from Ecclesfield to my infinite delight. So far from being vexed at your being so careful--I earnestly hope you will never be less so. If you had been, _I_ should have been dead long ago. I have no more doubt than of my present well-being. And as it is--taking care is so little in my line--that if _you_ took to _ignoring_ one's delicacy, or fancying it was fancy--I know I should merely (by instinct) hold out to the last gasp of existence, and do _what_ I could, _while_ I could!!...

I am cheered beyond anything with these critiques on "The Brownies." I must tell you I have read Aunt Mary the beginning of my new story, and she likes it very much. It will be longer than "The Brownies." ... I am writing most conscientiously--it will not be a bit longer than it should be, but naturally of itself will spread into a good deal. In fact, it is several stories together--a _Russian_ one among them ("Mrs. Overtheway's Remembrances").

TO A.E.

_Ecclesfield_. May 28, 1866.

I send you a song,[33] "which is not very long"--and that is about its only merit. I am utterly disgusted with it myself for producing nothing better.... However, here it is, and now I must explain it.

I have endeavoured to bear in mind three things--simplicity of idea, few verses, and a musical swing. I have constructed it so that one child's voice may sing for the Child, another child's voice for the Bird, and as many children as you please in the Chorus.

The "Hush! hush! hush!" I thought ought to have a piano effectiveness, and it is a word children enjoy.

[Footnote 33: "The Promise": "Verses for Children." Vol. ix. Set to music by Alexander Ewing.--_Aunt Judy's Magazine_, July 1866.]

THE PROMISE.

_Child._

Five blue eggs hatching,
With bright eyes watching,
Little brown mother, you sit on your nest.

_Bird._

Oh! pass me blindly,
Oh! spare me kindly,
Pity my terror, and leave me to rest.

_Chorus of Children._

Hush! hush! hush!
'Tis a poor mother thrush.
When the blue eggs hatch, the brown birds will sing--
This is a promise made in the spring.

_Child._

Five speckled thrushes,
In leafy bushes,
Singing sweet songs to the hot summer sky.
In and out twitting,
Here and there flitting,
Happy in life as the long days go by.

_Chorus._

Hush! hush! hush!
'Tis the song of the thrush:
Hatched are the blue eggs, the brown birds do sing--
Keeping the promise made in the spring.

If you liked, one voice, or half the party, might sing, "When the blue eggs hatch," and the other, "The brown birds will sing." Some are doubtful about the last lines, but the word "promise" had a jubilant musical rhythm in my head. However, you can alter it; if it has not the same in yours.... I don't set up for a versifier, and you may do what you please with this.

There is a certain class of child's song which is always taught in the National system by certificated infant school mistresses. They are semi-theatrical, very pretty, and serve at once as music, discipline, and amusement. Such as "The Clock," in which they beat the hours, swing for the pendulum, etc. There are certain actions in these songs which express listening.... I am very fond of the National system for teaching children, and it has struck me that this song is a little of that type.... I am doubly vexed it is so poor, because your next thing to "Jerusalem the Golden" ought to be very good. If you can, make your Processional Hymn very grand, and I will do my very best. I have more hope of that. Would the metre of Longfellow's "Coplas de Manrique" be good for music? It would be a fine hymn measure.... Don't hamper yourself about the metre. I will fit the words to the music.

TO MRS. GATTY.

_S.S. China._ June 10, 1867.

I staggered up yesterday morning to have my first sight of an iceberg.... The sea was dark-blue, a low line of land (Cape Race) was visible, and the iceberg stood in the distance dead white, like a lump of sugar.... I think the first sight of Halifax was one of the prettiest sights I ever saw. When I first came up there was no horizon, we were in a sea of mist. Gradually the horizon line appeared--then a line of low coast--muddy-looking at first--it soon became marked with lines of dark wood--then the shore dotted with grey huts--then the sun came out--the breeze got milder--and the air became strongly redolent of pine-woods. Nearer, the coast became more defined, though still low, rather bare, and dotted with brushwood, and grey stones low down, and crowned always with "murmuring pines." As we came to habitations, which are dotted, and sparkle along the shore, the effect was what we noticed in Belgium, as if a box of very bright new toys had been put out to play with, red roofs--even red houses--cardboard-looking churches--little bright wooden houses--and stiffish trees mixed everywhere. It looks more like a quaint watering-place than a city, though there are some fine buildings.... We took a great fancy to the place, which was like a new child's picture book, and I was rather disappointed to learn it is not to be our home. But Fredericton, where we are going, has superior advantages in some respects, and will very likely be quite as pretty.

_Halifax._ June 19, 1867.

* * * * *

Rex and I went down to the fish-market that I might see it. Coming back we met an old North American Indian woman. Such a picturesque figure. We talked to her, and Rex gave her something. I do not think it half so degraded-looking a type as they say. A very broad, queer, but I think acute and pleasant-looking face. Since I came in I have made two rather successful sketches of her.[34] She wore an old common striped shawl, but curiously thrown round her so that it looked like a chief's blanket, a black cap embroidered with beads, black trousers stuffed into moccasins, a short black petticoat, and a large gold-coloured cross on her breast, and a short jacket trimmed with scarlet, a stick and basket for broken victuals. She said she was going to catch the train! It sounded like hearing of Plato engaged for a polka!...

[Footnote 34: See pages 175, 176.]

TO MISS E. LLOYD.

[_Sketch._] _Cathedral Church of Fredericton, New Brunswick._

August 23, 1867.

MY DEAREST OLD ELEANORA,

I have been a wretch for not having written to you sooner. It seems strange there should remain any pressure of business or hurry of life in this place, where workmen look out of the windows of the house (our house and a fact!); they are repairing nine at a time, and boys swing their buckets and dawdle to the well for water, as if Time couldn't be lounged and coaxed off one's hands!! And yet busy I have been, and every mail has been a scramble. Getting into our house was no joke, attending sales and shops, buying furniture--ditto, ditto--as to paying and receiving calls on lovely days with splendid sketching lights--they have been thorns in the flesh--and, worst of all, regular colonial experiences of servants--one went off at a day's notice--and for two or three days we had _nobody_ but Rex's _orderly_, such a handy, imperturbable soldier, who made beds, cooked the dinner, hung pictures, and blew the organ with equal urbanity. He didn't know much--and in the imperfect state of our cuisine had few appliances--but he affected to be _au fait_ at everything--and what he had not got, he "annexed" from somewhere else. One of our maids uniformly set tumblers and wine-glasses with the tea set, and I found "William" the Never-at-fault cleaning the plate with knife-powder, and brushing his own clothes with the shoe brush. However, we have got a very fair maid now, and are comfortable enough. Our house is awfully jolly, though the workmen are yet about. The drawing-room really is not bad. It is a good-sized room with a day window--green carpet and sofa in the recess--window plant shelf--on one long side of the wall--a writing-table between two book-shelves--and oh! my dear, I cannot sufficiently say the _pleasure_ as well as _use_ and _comfort_ all my wedding presents have been to me. You can hardly estimate the comforting effect of these dear bits of civilization out here, especially at first when we were less comfortable. But the _refinements_ of comfort, you know, are not to be got here for love or money as we get them at home. Your dear book and inkstand and weights (uncommonly useful at this juncture of new postage), etc., look so well on my writing-table--on which are also the Longleys' Despatch Box--Frank Smith's blotting book--my Japanese bronzes, Indian box, Chinese ditto, Japanese candlestick and Chinese shoes, etc. of Rex's--our standing photos, table book-stand, etc., etc. You can't imagine how precious any knick-knacks have become. My mother's coloured photo that Brownie gave me is propped in the centre--and we have bought a mahogany bracket for my old Joan of Arc!! We have hired a good harmonium. Altogether the room really looks pretty with a fawn-coloured paper and the few water colours up--round table, etc., etc. Our bedroom has a blue and white paper, is a bright, airy, two-windowed room, with a _lovely_ eastward view over the river--the willows--and the pine woods. Our abundant space mocks one's longing to invite a good many dear old friends to visit one! We have much to be thankful for--which excellent sentiment brings me to the Cathedral. It would be a fine, well-appointed Church even in Europe. It stands lovelily looking over the river, surrounded by maples, etc., etc. (and to the left a beautiful group of the "feathered elms" of the country). There is daily Morning Prayer at 7.30, to which we generally go, and where the Bishop always appears. There is a fair amateur choir, and a beautiful organ built by a man who died just when he had completed it. But, my dear, in addition to these privileges, we weekly "sit under" the most energetic, quaint-looking, and dignified of Bishops--who has a clear, soft, penetrating voice that rings down the Cathedral in the Absolution and Benediction, and who preaches such fine, able, practical, learned, and beautiful sermons--as I really do not think Oxon, or Vaughan, or any of our great men much excel. This would be nearly enough, even if one did not know him; but when we dined at Government House the other night--rather to my surprise, I was sent in with him, and found him very amusing, and full of funny anecdotes of the province. Since when we have rapidly become fast friends. He is very musical, and when he and Rex get nobbling over the piano and organ--there they stick!! Rex is appointed supplementary organist, and to-morrow (being their Annual Festival) he is to play. Last night we had a grand "practice" at the Bishop's, and it felt wonderfully like home. He has lots of books, and has put them at our disposal--and, to crown all, has offered to teach us Hebrew if we will teach him German this winter. His wife is _very_ nice too.... She is a good practical doctor, kind without measure, and being a great admirer of Mother's writings, has taken me under her wing--to see that I do nothing contrary to the genius of the climate! People are wonderfully kind here. They really keep us in vegetables, and I have a lovely nosegay on my table at this moment. There is a very pleasant Regiment (22nd) here, with a lovely band. On my birthday Rex gave me Asa Gray's _Botany_, a book on botany generally, and on North American plants in particular. Some of the wild-flowers are lovely. One (Pigeon Berry) [_sketch_] has a white flower amid largish leaves--thus. It grows about as large as wild anemone, in similar places and quantities. When the flower falls the stamens develop into a thick _bunch_ of _berries_, the size and colour of holly berries, only _brighter_ brilliant scarlet, and patches of pine wood are covered with them.

My dear, you _would_ like this place! My best love to all your people. Isabel's fan could have no more appropriate field for its exhibition than summer here! Adieu, beloved. (I say nothing about home news. Z.'s affair bewilders me. I am awfully anxious for news, but it's useless talking at this distance.) (See Lamb's Essay on Distant Correspondents in the Elia!!!!!)

Your ever loving, J.H. EWING.

TO MRS. GATTY.

_Fredericton._ September 21, 1867.

MY DEAREST MOTHER,

The room being rather warm (with a fire!) and having been very busy all day sketching, etc., etc., and having just done my Hebrew lesson in a sleepyish sort of manner--I have turned lazy about working at Mrs. Overtheway to-night, and am going to get on with my letter instead. Rex is mouthing Hebrew gutturals at my elbow, so don't be astonished if I introduce the "_yatz_, _yotz_, _yomah_," etc., that sound in my ears! I must tell you we have actually despatched a small parcel to Ecclesfield. We crossed early one day by the ferry, and went to the Indian settlement, where we bought a small and simple basket of a squaw which she had just made, and which shows their work, and will hold a few of your odds and ends. We send M. a little card-case of Indian work, and R. a cigar-case. These two things are worked by Huron Indians in stained moose hair. The Melicites who are _here_ work in basket-work and in coloured beads. I got two strips of their coloured bead-work, and Sarah and I "ran up" two red velvet bags and trimmed them with these strips for tobacco bags for A. and S. I thought you would like to see the different kinds of work. The MicMacs work in stained porcupine, but I have not sent any of their work. They are only very little things, but they come from _us!_ We have had so much to do, I have got on very badly with my botanizing, but I have sent one or two ferns for you. We were late for flowers. Tell S. the _Impatiens Fulva_ is a wonderful flower. When you touch (almost when you _shake_ with approaching) the seed vessels, they burst and curl up like springs, and fling the seed away. I mean to try to preserve seed. The _Chelone Glabra_ as pressed by me gives no idea of the beautiful dead-white flower, something like a foxglove only more compact. I have told you what the parcel contains that you may not expect greater things than will appear from our little Christmas Box!...

To-day has been lovely and we have enjoyed it. Rex has been with me all day, though when I speak of his being with me I speak of his bodily presence only. In spirit he is with the conjugations Kal, Highil, etc., etc. He has bought Gesenius' Grammar, and a very fine one it seems. He lives with Gesenius, and if he doesn't take it to bed, it is not that he leaves Hebrew in the drawing-room. He undresses to the tune of the latest exercise, and puts me through the imperfect and perfect of [Hebrew: khatah] before we get up of mornings! (He has just discovered that Eden was about the same latitude as Fredericton!) There is always Morning Prayer and Holy Communion here on Saints' Days, and to-day being S. Matthew, we went to the 11 service. After Church we went a little way up the road, and I did a sepia sketch of "our street," Rex sitting by me and groaning Hebrew. It was gloriously sunny, and such a lovely sky, and such an exquisitely calm river with white-sailed boats on it. I have enjoyed it immensely....

_Fredericton._ 19th Sunday after Trinity, 1867.

* * * * *

I wonder if I send it by next mail, whether you would have room for a very short Christmas sort of prose Idyll suggested to me by a scene I saw when we were hunting for a sketch the other day. If I can jot it down, I don't suppose it would be more than two or three pages. If I send it at all it will come by the Halifax mail. It will be called "The Two Christmas Trees."...

TO H.K.F.G.

September 29, 1867.

... I have fallen head over ears in love with another dog. Oh! bless his nose!... His name is Hector. He is a _white_ pure bull-dog. His face is more broad and round--and delicious and ferociously good-natured--and affectionately ogreish--than you can imagine. The moment I saw him I hugged him and kissed his benevolence bump, and he didn't even _gowly powl_....

TO MRS. GATTY.

[_Fredericton_, 1867?]

... Talking of stories, if I only can get the full facts of his history, I think I shall send A.J.M. a short paper on a Fredericton Dog. Did I ever tell you of him? He has the loveliest face I ever saw, I think, _in any Christian_. He knows us quite well when we go up the High Street where he lives. When he gets two cents (1_d._) given him, he takes it in his mouth to the nearest store and buys himself buscuits. I have seen him do it. If you only give him _one_ cent he is dissatisfied, and tries to get the second. The Bishop told me he used to come to Church with his master at one time; he would come and behave very well--TILL the offertory. Then he rose and _walked after the alms-collectors_, wagging his tail as the money chinked in, because he wanted his penny for his biscuits!!! He is a large dog--part St. Bernard, and has magnificent eyes. But (my _poor_!) they shaved him this summer like a poodle! There is a bear in the officers' quarters here--he belongs to the regiment. I have patted him, but he catches at one's clothes. To see him _patting_ at my skirts with his paw was delicious--but I don't like his _head_, he looks very sly!

January 2, 1868.

... Indeed it is hard not to be able to see each other at any moment and to be "parted" even for a time. But to us all, who all enjoy everything to be seen and heard, and heard of in new places and among other people; the fact that I have to lead a traveller's life gives us certain great pleasures we could not have had if Rex had been a curate at Worksop (we'll say), and we couldn't even afford a trip to the Continent! Also if I have any gift for writing it really _ought_ to improve under circumstances so much more favourable than the narrowing influence of a small horizon.... I only wish my gift were a little nearer _real_ genius!! As it is, I do hope to improve gradually; and as I _do_ work slowly and conscientiously, I may honestly look forward with satisfaction to the hope of being able to turn a few honest pennies to help us out: and it _is_ a satisfaction, and a blessing I am thankful for. I only wish I could please myself better! However, small writers are wanted as well as big ones, and there is no reason why donkey-carts shouldn't drive even if there are coaches on the road!...

[_Fredericton_.] February 3, 1868.

* * * * * *

I am so infinitely obliged to you for your wisdom _in re_ Reka Dom, and very thankful for the criticisms, to which I shall attend. I mean to compress it very much. I will keep the river part, though that is really the shadow of some of my best writing, I think, in the _Dutch_ tale describing that scene at Topsham. I wrote a good bit last night, and was much wishing for the returned MS. But the sight of the proof will help me more than anything. I lose all judgment of my own work in MS. I feel as if it must be as laborious to read as it has been to write. Whereas in print it comes freshly on me, and I can criticize it more fairly. It will not be very long when all is done, I think, and I am so anxious to make it good, I hope it will be satisfactory. A little praise really does help one to work, and I don't think makes one a bit less conscientious.

It has been a very jolly mail this time, though the Lexicon has not come. The Bishop's is getting worn with use, for Rex does his daily chapter with unfailing regularity, and is murmuring Hebrew at my elbow at this moment as usual. Mr. James McCombie, the uncle who lives in Aberdeen, the lawyer, has sent me such a pretty book of photographs of Aberdeen! with a kind message about my letter to the poor old Mother, and asking me to write to them. I had asked for a photo of the old Cathedral graveyard where Rex's parents and brother and sister are buried, and there is a lovely one of it, but it is a set of views of Aberdeen, very good photos, and a very pretty book. All Rex's old haunts. Isn't it nice?

[_Sketch of Old Machar Cathedral._]

* * * * * *

[_Fredericton._] April 4, 1868.

I hoped to have sent you the whole of Reka Dom this mail. But a most unexpected fall of snow has made the travelling so insecure that it is considered a risk to wait till Monday, and I must send off what I can to-day. It is so nearly done that I am not now afraid to send off the first part (which will be more than you will want for May), and you may rely on the rest by next mail; and the remainder of Mrs. O. as rapidly as possible. It has certainly given me a wonderful amount of bother this time, and I was disappointed in the feeling that Rex did not think it quite up to my other things. But to-day in reading it all, and a lot that he had not seen before, I heard him laughing over it by himself, and he thinks it now one of my best, so I am in great spirits, and mean to finish it with a flourish if possible. I have cut and carved and clipped till I lost all sense of what was fit to remain, and Rex has insisted on a good deal being replaced.

* * * * * *

_Fredericton._ April 17, 1868.

* * * * * *

The Squaw has been making the blotting-case, and Peter brought it to-day, and I am very much pleased with it and hope M. will like it. I would like to have got an envelope case and a canoe, but they are so difficult to pack, and it would be so aggravating to have them broken, so we got a few flat things. The blotting-case and moccasins, and a cigar-case for F., and a tiny pair of snow-shoes. The blotting-case is a good specimen, as it is made of the lovely birch bark; and they were all got direct from Indians we know. A squaw with a sad face of rather a nigh type called to beg the other day. She could hardly speak English. She said, "Sister, me no ate to-day;" so I gave her some bread-and-butter, which she gave at once to the boy with her, and went away.

We have had some splendid Auroras lately. They are not _rosy_ here, but very beautiful otherwise, and very capricious in shape, long grand tongues of light shooting up into the sky.

* * * * *

We are beginning now to talk of "Mayflower expeditions." I think I shall give one to a few select friends. I had thought of a child's one, but a nice old school-mistress here gives one for children, and I think one raid of the united juvenile population on the poor lovely flowers is enough. The Mayflower is a lovely wax-like ground creeper with an exquisite perfume. It is the first flower, and is to be found before the snow has left the woods....

May 12, 1868.

... I have a wonderful lot of gardening on my shoulders, for we have no _gardener_--only get a soldier to work in the kitchen garden--so I have had to make my plans and arrange my crops for the kitchen garden, as well as look after my own. We have really two _charming_ bits--a little, hot, sunny, good soil, vegetable plot--and quite away from this--by the house, my flower garden. Two round beds and four borders, with a high fence and two little gates, I have nearly got this tidy. The last occupant had never used it. It is a _great_ enjoyment to me, and does me great good, I think, by keeping me out of doors. Rexie has given me a dear little set of tools--French ones, like children's toys, but quite enough for me. They form the subject of one of the little rhymes that Hector and I make together, and that I croon to the bull-doge to his great satisfaction.

"The little Missus with the little spade
Two little beds in the little garden has made.
The Bull-doge watches (for he can't work)
How she turns up the earth with her little fork.
Then she takes up the little hoe
And into the weeds doth bravely go,
At last with the smallest of little rakes
Quite smooth and tidy the beds she makes."

Another that was made in bed on the occasion of one of his _raids_ on my invalid breakfast was--

"'Tis the voice of the Bull-doge, I hear him complain,
'You have fed me but lately: I must grub again.'
As a pauper for pudding--so he for his meat--
Gapes his jaws, and there's nothing a Bull-doge can't eat."

We sing these little songs together--and then I let him look in the glass, when he gowly powls and barks dreadfully at the rival _doge_....

TO H.K.F.G.

May 18, 1868.

... I am awfully busy with my garden, and people are very kind in giving me things. To-morrow we go to the Rowans, and I am to ransack _his_ garden! I do think the exchange of herbaceous perennials is one of the joys of life. You can hardly think how delicious it feels to _garden_ after six months of frost and snow. Imagine my feelings when Mrs. Medley found a bed of seedling bee larkspurs in her garden, and gave me at least two dozen!!! I have got a whole row of them along a border, next to which I _think_ I shall have mignonette and scarlet geraniums alternately. It is rather odd after writing Reka Dom, that I should fall heir to a garden in which almost the only "fixture" is a south border of lilies of the valley!...

TO MISS E. LLOYD.

_Fredericton, N.B._ June 2, 1868.

MY DEAREST ELEANOR--

* * * * *

I can hardly tell you what a pleasure it is to me to have a garden. The place has never felt so like a home before! I went into my little flower garden (a separate plat from the other--fenced round, and simply composed of two round beds, and four wooden-edged borders and one elm tree) [_sketch_] early this morning, and it seemed so jolly after the long winter. My jonquils are just coming out, and one or two other things. In the elm tree two bright yellow birds were cheeping. I mean to plant scarlet-runners to attract the humming birds. It is something to see fireflies and humming birds in the flesh, one must admit!

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Juliana Horatia Ewing And Her BooksChapter VI: Part IV (2)

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