They, in their day, labouring under the shadow
of the eighteenth century, had somehow in themselves that high moral
fervour which marks the opening of the twentieth century, and is said
to have come in with Mr. George Bernard Shaw. But, unlike us, they
were not concerned wholly with the inward and spiritual side of life.
They cared for the material surface, too. They were learned in the
frills and furbelows of things. They gave, indeed, a whole chapter to
`Embroidery.' Another they gave to `Archery,' another to `The Aviary,'
another to `The Escrutoire.' Young ladies do not now keep birds, nor
shoot with bow and arrow; but they do still, in some measure, write
letters; and so, for sake of historical comparison, let me give you a
glance at `The Escrutoire.' It is not light reading.
`For careless scrawls ye boast of no pretence;
Fair Russell wrote, as well as spoke, with sense.'
Thus is the chapter headed, with a delightful little wood engraving of
`Fair Russell,' looking pre-eminently sensible, at her desk, to
prepare the reader for the imminent welter of rules for `decorous
composition.' Not that pedantry is approved. `Ease and simplicity, an
even flow of unlaboured diction, and an artless arrangement of obvious
sentiments' is the ideal to be striven for.
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