Juliana Horatia Ewing And Her Books Part 11

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, cla.s.s, s.e.x, 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 G.o.d'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 G.o.d.

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 "sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e 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 cafe, 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 ma.s.s in the Cathedral. In fact I heard two ma.s.ses 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 sc.r.a.ping of chairs and everybody goes round to the Altar. Then organ, fiddles, all sorts of instruments, and a splendid "company" of singers--the musical Ma.s.s 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 appet.i.te, 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 sh.o.r.e, 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-a-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 _maitre d'hotel_ 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 c.o.c.ked 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 ap.r.o.n!!

_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 _menage_, 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 j.a.panese things. It is a most choice collection. There were some such funny things--a _fiance_ and _fiancee_ of j.a.pan 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 Vand.y.k.es--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 Sat.u.r.day 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 sc.r.a.ppish, 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._