a new england girlhood-第43章

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ke　it。　I　had　a　natural　distaste　for　mathematics；　and　my　recollections　of　my　struggles　with　trigonometry　and　conic　sections　are　not　altogether　those　of　a　conquering　heroine。　But　my　teacher　told　me　that　my　mind　had　need　of　just　that　exact　sort　of　discipline；　and　I　think　she　was　right。

A　habit　of　indiscriminate；　unsystematized　reading；　such　as　I　had　fallen　into；　is　entirely　foreign　to　the　scholarly　habit　of　mind。　Attention　is　the　secret　of　real　acquirement；　but　it　was　months　before　I　could　command　my　own　attention；　even　when　I　was　interested　in　the　subject　I　was　examining。　It　seemed　as　if　all　the　pages　of　all　the　books　I　had　ever　read　were　turning　themselves　over　between　me　and　this　one　page　that　I　wanted　to　understand。　I　found　that　mere　reading　does　not　by　any　means　make　a　student。

It　was　more　to　me　to　come　into　communication　with　my　wise　teacher　as　a　friend　than　even　to　receive　the　wisdom　she　had　to　impart。　She　was　dignified　and　reticent；　but　beneath　her　reserve；　as　is　often　the　case；　was　a　sealed　fountain　of　sympathy；　which　one　who　had　the　key　could　easily　unlock。　Thinking　of　her　nobleness　of　character；　her　piety；　her　learning；　her　power；　and　her　sweetness；　it　seems　to　me　as　if　I　had　once　had　a　Christian　Zenobia　or　Hypatia　for　my　teacher。

We　speak　with　awed　tenderness　of　our　unseen　guardian　angels；　but　have　we　not　all　had　our　guiding　angels；　who　came　to　us　in　visible　form；　and；　recognized　or　unknown；　kept　beside　us　on　our　difficult　path　until　they　had　done　for　us　all　they　could？　It　seems　to　me　as　if　one　had　succeeded　another　by　my　side　all　through　the　years；　always　some　one　whose　influence　made　my　heart　stronger　and　my　way　clearer；　though　sometimes　it　has　been　only　a　little　child　that　came　and　laid　its　hand　into　my　hand　as　if　I　were　its　guide；　instead　of　its　being　mine。

My　dear　and　honored　Lady…Principal　was　surely　one　of　my　strong　guiding　angels；　sent　to　meet　me　as　I　went　to　meet　her　upon　my　life…road；　just　at　the　point　where　I　most　needed　her。　For　the　one　great　thing　she　gave　her　pupils；scope；　often　quite　left　out　of　woman's　education；I　especially　thank　her。　The　true　education　is　to　go　on　forever。　But　how　can　there　be　any　hopeful　going　on　without　outlook？　And　having　an　infinite　outlook；　how　can　progress　ever　cease？　It　was　worth　while　for　me　to　go　to　those　Western　prairies；　if　only　for　the　broader　mental　view　that　opened　upon　me　in　my　pupilage　there。

During　my　first　year　at　the　seminary　I　was　appointed　teacher　of　the　Preparatory　Department；a　separate　school　of　thirty　or　forty　girls；with　the　opportunity　to　go　on　with　my　studies　at　the　same　time。　It　was　a　little　hard；　but　I　was　very　glad　to　do　it；　as　I　was　unwilling　to　receive　an　education　without　rendering　an　equivalent；　and　I　did　not　wish　to　incur　a　debt。

I　believe　that　the　postponement　of　these　maturer　studies　to　my　early　womanhood；　after　I　had　worked　and　taught；　was　a　benefit　to　me。　I　had　found　out　some　of　my　special　ignorances；　what　the　things　were　which　I　most　needed　to　know。　I　had　learned　that　the　book…knowledge　I　so　much　craved　was　not　itself　education；　was　not　even　culture；　but　only　a　help；　an　adjunct　to　both。　As　I　studied　more　earnestly；　I　cared　for　fewer　books；　but　those　few　made　themselves　indispensable。　It　still　seems　to　me　that　in　the　Lowell　mills；　and　in　my　log…cabin　schoolhouse　on　the　Western　prairies；　I　received　the　best　part　of　my　early　education。

The　great　advantage　of　a　seminary　course　to　me　was　that　under　my　broad…minded　Principal　I　learned　what　education　really　is：　the　penetrating　deeper　and　rising　higher　into　life；　as　well　as　making　continually　wider　explorations；　the　rounding　of　the　whole　human　being　out　of　its　nebulous　elements　into　form；　as　planets　and　suns　are　rounded；　until　they　give　out　safe　and　steady　light。　This　makes　the　process　an　infinite　one；　not　possible　to　be　completed　at　any　school。

Returning　from　the　West　immediately　after　my　graduation；　I　was　for　ten　years　or　so　a　teacher　of　young　girls　in　seminaries　much　like　my　own　Alma　Mater。　The　best　result　to　me　of　that　experience　has　been　the　friendship　of　my　pupils；a　happiness　which　must　last　as　long　as　life　itself。

A　book　must　end　somewhere；　and　the　natural　boundary　of　this　narrative　is　drawn　with　my　leaving　New　England　for　the　West。　I　was　to　outline　the　story　of　my　youth　for　the　young；　though　I　think　many　a　one　among　them　might　tell　a　story　far　more　interesting　than　mine。　The　most　beautiful　lives　seldom　find　their　way　into　print。　Perhaps　the　most　beautiful　part　of　any　life　never　does。　I　should　like　to　flatter　myself　so。

I　could　not　stay　at　the　West。　It　was　never　really　home　to　me　there；　and　my　sojourn　of　six　or　seven　years　on　the　prairies　only　deepened　my　love　and　longing　for　the　dear　old　State　of　Massachusetts。　I　came　back　in　the　summer　of　1852；　and　the　unwritten　remainder　of　my　sketch　is　chiefly　that　of　a　teacher's　and　writer's　experience；　regarding　which　latter　I　will　add；　for　the　gratification　of　those　who　have　desired　them；　a　few　personal　particulars。

While　a　student　and　teacher　at　the　West　I　was　still　writing；　and　much　that　I　wrote　was　published。　A　poem　printed　in　〃Sartain's　Magazine；〃　sent　there　at　the　suggestion　of　the　editor　of　the　〃Lowell　Offering〃　was　the　first　for　which　I　received　remunerationfive　dollars。　Several　poems　written　for　the　manuscript　school　journal　at　Monticello　Seminary　are　in　the　〃Household〃　collection　　of　my　verses；　among　them　those　entitled　〃Eureka；〃　〃Hand　in　Hand　with　Angels；〃　and　〃　Psyche　at　School。〃　These；　and　various　others　written　soon　after；　were　printed　in　the　〃National　Era；〃　in　return　for　which　a　copy　of　the　paper　was　sent　me。　Nothing　further　was　asked　or　expected。

The　little　song　〃Hannah　Binding　Shoes〃written　immediately　after　my　return　from　the　West；was　a　study　from　lifethough　not　from　any　one　lifein　my　native　town。　It　was　brought　into　notice　in　a　peculiar　way；by　my　being　accused　of　stealing　it；　by　the　editor　of　the　magazine　to　which　I　had　sent　it　with　a　request　for　the　usual　remuneration；　if　accepted。　Accidentally　or　otherwise；　this　editor　lost　my　note　and　signature；　and　then　denounced　me　by　name　in　a　newspaper　as　a　〃literary　thiefess；〃　having　printed　the　verses　with　a　nom　de　plume　in　his　magazine　without　my　knowledge。　It　was　awkward　to　have　to　come　to　my　own　defense。　But　the　curious　incident　gave　the　song　a　wide　circulation。

I　did　not　attempt　writing　for　money　until　it　became　a　necessity；　when　my　health　failed　at　teaching；　although　I　should　long　before　then　have　liked　to　spend　my　whole　time　with　my　pen；　could　I　have　done　so。　But　it　was　imperative　that　I　should　have　an　assured　income；　however　small；　and　every　one　who　has　tried　it　knows　how　uncertain　a　support　one's　pen　is；　unless　it　has　become　very　famous　indeed。　My　life　as　a　teacher；　however；　I　regard　as　part　of　my　best　preparation　for　whatever　I　have　since　written。　I　do　not　know　but　I　should　recommend　five　or　ten　years　of　teaching　as　the　most　profitable　apprenticeship　for　a　young　person　who　wished　to　become　an　author。　To　be　a　good　teacher　implies　self…discipline；　and　a　book　written　without　something　of　that　sort　of　personal　preparation　cannot　be　a　very　valuable　one。

Success　in　writing　may　mean　many　different　things。　I　do　not　know　that　I　have　ever　reached　it；　except　in　the　sense　of　liking　better　and　better　to　write；　and　of　finding　expression　easier。　It　is　something　to　have　won　the　privilege　of　going　on。　Sympathy　and　recognition　are　worth　a　great　deal；　the　power　to　touch　human　beings　inwardly　and　nobly　is　worth　far　more。　The　hope　of　attaining　to　such　results；　if　only　occasionally；　must　be　a　writer's　best　inspiration。

So　far　as　successful　publication　goes；　perhaps　the　first　I　considered　so　came　when　a　poem　of　mine　was　accepted　by　the　〃Atlantic　Monthly。〃　Its　title　was　〃The　Rose　Enthroned；〃　and　as　the　poet　Lowell　was　at　that　time　editing　the　magazine　I　felt　especially　gratified。　That　and　another　poem；　〃The　Loyal　Woman's　No；〃　written　early　in　the　War　of　the　Rebellion；　were　each　attributed　to　a　different　person　among　our　prominent　poets；　the　〃Atlantic〃　at　that　time　not　giving　authors'　signatures。　Of　course　I　knew　the　unlikeness；　nevertheless；　those　who　made　the　mistake　paid　me　an　unintentional　compliment。　Compliments；　however；　are　very　cheap；　and　by　no　means　signify　success。