The Word in the Heart

Charles Spurgeon:

Notice that John not only mentions "the Word of God," but the Word of God "in you." The inspired Word must be received into a willing mind. How? The Book which lies there is to be pleaded here, in the inmost heart, by the work of the Holy Ghost upon the mind. All of this letter has to be translated into spirit and life. "The Word of God abideth in you" - that is, first to know it, - next to remember it and treasure it up in your heart. Following upon this, we must understand it, and learn the analogy of faith by comparing spiritual things with spiritual till we have learned the system of Divine truth, and are able to set it forth and plead for it. It is, next, to have the Word in your affections, to love it so that it is as honey or the droppings of the honeycomb to you. When this is the case, you must and shall overcome the wicked one. A man instructed in the Scriptures is like an armed knight, who when he goes among the throng inflicts many a wound, but suffers none, for he is locked up in steel.

Yes, but that is not all; it is not the Word of God in you alone, it is "the Word of God abideth in you." It is always there, it cannot be removed from you. If a man gets the Bible right into him, he is all right then, because he is full, and there is no room for evil. When you have filled a measure full of wheat, you have effectually shut the chaff out. Men go after novel and false doctrines because they do not really know the truth; for if the truth had gotten into them and filled them, they would not have room for these day-dreams. A man who truly knows the doctrines of grace is never removed from them: I have heard our opponents rave at what they call obstinacy. Once get the truth really into you, it will enter into the texture of your being, and nothing will get it out of you. It will also be your strength, by setting you watching against every evil thing. You will be on your guard if the Word abide in you, for it is written, "When thou goest it will keep thee." The Word of God will be to you a bulwark and a high tower, a castle of defense against the foe. Oh, see to it that the Word of God is in you, in your very soul, permeating your thoughts, and so operating upon your outward life, that all may know you to be a true Bible-Christian, for they perceive it in your words and deeds.

(A Good Start, pp. 107-109)

Villette - chapters 28-35

Several new developments have occurred in these pages, but they were rather visible afar off.

• Graham and Polly like each other. While away on a trip, Polly was present when the mail came and was surprised to receive a letter herself from Graham. In it he apparently professed his admiration of her. Polly wrote back, thanking him and subtly made it known that the sentiments were reciprocated. There are difficulties, however. Paulina's father, Mr. Home, still thinks of and treats her as a child. How will he react when he hears of the secret "thing" between his daughter and Dr. Bretton? [On that note, I wonder what Ginevra will do ;-)]
• M. Paul has a high regard for Lucy. Bronte's writing is rather murky on this point - I cant tell whether it's just friendship or love. (I'm hoping for the former because the man is over 40. Ew.) In these chapters you can see their relationship dramatically change: They go from regularly fighting in chapters 28 & 29 to living in mutual peace to - in chapter 35 - M. Paul's offering of his life-long friendship to Lucy.
  
• We also learn about M.Paul's past. Commissioned to take a gift from Madame Beck to a house on the other side of town, Lucy meets up with an odd set of people upon arriving at her destination. The door is opened by an ancient and suspicious maid. The recipient of the gift is an old, malevolent looking lady. And what do you know, but the priest who tried to convert Lucy earlier on turns out to live there too! When a thunderstorm breaks out as Lucy is about to leave, the priest tells a story about two young people in love who were separated over financial differences. The girl, refusing to marry another, became a nun and died shortly afterwards. The young man, forgetting the wrongs done to him, took care of the girl's family after her father died. You guessed it - it's M. Paul. The grouchy old lady is his beloved Justine Marie's grandmother. Being the faithful lover that he was, he has never thought of another woman since.
  

The legend at the school is that a paranormal apparition - a nun, to be exact - haunts the garret of the building. Lucy has seen it twice - the first being back when Lucy had a crush on Graham. Distressed and lonely, she was sitting in the attic reading a letter of his when the nun appeared floating towards her. The second instance occurred when she was sitting in the alley alone in a contemplative mood. Graham, who got her to confide in him about it, assured Lucy that it was just her nerves doing weird things to her. And she believed it. Until now. M. Paul declares that he has seen it too, and while they talk in the alley, the nun appears! This must be his long lost love. I'm anxious to see what the apparition is all about!

One of the funniest chapters in the book is 29 - M. Paul and Lucy get into one of their trademark fights over a misunderstanding, namely that the day on which it happened was his anniversary of teaching at the school and everyone generally gave him a present, usually a bouquet. Lucy, however, goes against the grain and makes him (what I believe is) a chain for a pocket watch. She didn't get around to giving it to him at the right time, and he takes it as a total rejection. His reaction was downright comic. The whole section had me laughing but I'll close with this choice excerpt -

Owing to some little accidental movement—I think I dropped my thimble on the floor, and in stooping to regain it, hit the crown of my head against the sharp corner of my desk; which casualties (exasperating to me, by rights, if to anybody) naturally made a slight bustle. M. Paul became irritated, and dismissing his forced equanimity, and casting to the winds that dignity and self-control with which he never cared long to encumber himself, he broke forth into the strain best calculated to give him ease.

I don’t know how, in the progress of his discours, he had contrived to cross the Channel and land on British ground; but there I found him when I began to listen.

Casting a quick cynical glance round the room—a glance which scathed, or was intended to scathe, as it crossed me—he fell with fury upon “les Anglaises.”

Never have I heard English women handled as M. Paul that morning handled them. He spared nothing—neither their minds, morals, manners, nor personal appearance. I specially remember his abuse of their tall stature, their long necks, their thin arms, their slovenly dress, their pedantic education, their impious scepticism, their insufferable pride, their pretentious virtue; over which he ground his teeth malignantly, and looked as if, had he dared, he would have said singular things. Oh! he was spiteful, acrid, savage, and, as a natural consequence, detestably ugly.

“Little, wicked, venomous man!” thought I; “am I going to harass myself with fears of displeasing you, or hurting your feelings? No, indeed; you shall be indifferent to me as the shabbiest bouquet in your pyramid.”

I grieve to say I could not quite carry out this resolution. For some time the abuse of England and the English found and left me stolid. I bore it some fifteen minutes stoically enough; but this hissing cockatrice was determined to sting, and he said such things at last—fastening not only upon our women but upon our greatest names and best men, sullying the shield of Britannia and dabbling the Union Jack in mud—that I was stung. With vicious relish he brought up the most spicy current Continental historical falsehoods, than which nothing can be conceived more offensive. Zélie and the whole class became one grin of vindictive delight, for it is curious to discover how these clowns of Labassecour secretly hate England. At last, I struck a sharp stroke on my desk, opened my lips, and let loose this cry,—

“Vive l’Angleterre, l’Histoire et les Héros! A bas la France, la Fiction et les Faquins!” [Long live England, history and heroes! Down with France, fiction and fops!]

The class was struck of a heap. I suppose they thought me mad.

HAHA. I love you, Lucy Snowe.

Villette - chapters 24-27

In these chapters we are yet again re-acquainted with some characters from before - Paulina & her father.

Two months after her last letter from Graham, Lucy is invited back to the Bretton home with the promise of meeting old acquaintance. Upon arriving there, Lucy and Paulina - who is now 17 - meet again, and gradually a friendship forms. Paulina hasn't forgotten her friendship with Graham, and you can tell that she still has a thing for him. She isn't quite as obnoxious as I believed her to be; fortunately, she's grown into a gracious, amiable, and intelligent young woman.

What do you know, but Paulina and Ginevra are cousins.....and they despise each other. Ginevra's sentiments are similar to my first impressions of Polly; Paulina pretty much thinks of Ginevra the same way that Lucy does. Add to the mix that Graham seems to be showing some attention to Paulina, and boy, I really do pity Lucy for being forced to listen to Ginevra's diatribes about her cousin. Polly, on the other hand, is hurt by Ginevra's unsolicited opinions of Graham and love. Sounds like jealousy to me!

Picking up on this possible attraction between Graham and Paulina, Lucy realizes that she must give any hope of ever getting together with Graham. After discovering that Madame Beck has read his letters, Lucy carefully seals them in a bottle and buries them in the root of a tree in the alley behind the school. Fitting imagery for the burial that takes place in her heart.

Later on, Lucy attends a party at Paulina's hotel. Among the guests are Ginevra, Graham, and M. Paul Emmanuel - a fiery, opinionated teacher at Madame Beck's who is convinced that he has figured Lucy out, and takes on a strange guardian-ish air with her. One of my favorite episodes with him is in chapter 19 where he discovers Lucy at an art gallery gazing skeptically at a pretentious and rather indecent picture entitled Cleopatra. Scandalized that a young lady would have the gall to do such a thing, he marches Lucy into a nondescript corner, scolds her, and goes off to look at the picture himself. That, my readers, is M. Paul Emmanuel.

Returning to the party. While there, we encounter several revalations.

• Graham still acts like he is still slightly under the spell of Ginevra. He talks to her, looks at her, and pays her too much attention for somebody "over" her.
• Lucy realizes that Graham, although he thinks otherwise, does not understand nor take her seriously. And although she already had performed the aforesaid "burial," the revelation pains her deeply.
• M. Paul Emmanuel acts singularly towards Lucy. Although he has a rough exterior, I believe deep down he genuinely likes her. Before they all go home, he is very attentive to Lucy and wants to make peace after a slight argument they had earlier on. I'm interested in seeing how significant he'll be in the rest of the story.

Something I enjoy and appreciate about this book is Bronte's numerous allusions to the Bible, history, literature and mythology. As in Jane Eyre, Villette is full of rich metaphors and similes which can really illuminate the story if you understand the stories behind them.

A belated birthday notice

January 9th was the 300th birthday of Sarah Edwards, one of my favorite women in history. She was married to Jonathan Edwards, who is considered to be the greatest American theologian. As they say, behind every great man there's a great woman, and this case is no exception! Witty, intelligent, discreet, gracious and godly, she was exactly the kind of wife the contemplative man needed. Obviously he noticed it too, writing his famous quote about her before they were married, and on his deathbed, he described their marriage as "an uncommon union." I love reading about their relationship.

If anyone's interested in learning more about Mrs. Edwards, I highly recommend this book. As it's written by a secular author, there is a bit of a feminist spin to the writing, but it doesn't substantially detract from the book. Reading this book will always inspire me to imitate her godly character as a young girl and to one day be a wife that is a true helper to her husband. Without Sarah, Jonathan Edwards may not have been able to do for his country what he did.
Something amazing the aforesaid book mentions - by 1900, the Edwards family included 13 college presidents, a plethora of lawyers, deans of medical and law schools, 3 senators, a controller of the U.S. treasury, and a U.S. Vice President.

So, although I'm 4 days late in mentioning this, it's better late than never. These past three hundred years in America turned out the way they did because of this relatively unknown lady. Who knows which of us today will be this influential 300 years from now?

Villette - chapters 16-23

In these last chapters, the book has become so much better yet! There were some surprising developments and fantastic characters that you get to know better.

I was totally unprepared for the revelation that Dr. John is Graham Bretton. I had begun to wonder how he and his mother fit into the story when I came to this part of the book. Bronte does a phenomenal job of describing these two people - you feel as if you know them yourself.

• Graham, alias Dr. John (his name is John Graham Bretton), is an empathetic, considerate, (usually) sensible, cheerful sort of guy. Ginevra is a total airhead for not appreciating him. He does, however, have his faults. Besides the glaring ill-judgment of being infatuated with an idiot, he can be selfish - he's kind to others, and appreciates it when they remind him of it. In spite of this, he is a very pleasing character to read about. He and Lucy begin to develop a good friendship...who knows what will come of it. :-)
• Mrs. Bretton. This is the coolest woman ever. Despite her being middle aged, she, as Bronte puts it, still has the youthful air of a twenty year old. Not the midlife crisis immaturity; she's down to earth and her personality still retains the dignity of her age. I love reading the friendly banter that goes back and forth between her and Graham. She's hilariously sarcastic and has the best comebacks; she's rational and sensible; she has an incredibly thick skin. I would love to watch a chick flick with her - her running commentary on the sappiness of the movie would be priceless.
  

One of the pivotal moments of these chapters is where the three - Mrs. Bretton, Graham, and Lucy - go to a concert in which Ginevra performs. Before it begins, they're sitting and watching the girls onstage, and Ginevra sees Mrs. Bretton and makes fun of her with a friend. Graham is infuriated. As taken as he was with Ginevra, Graham loves his mother more, and at this point he has finally awoken to the flaws of the silly girl. He falls out of "love" with her - the rest of the night, he's in a mirthful mood. No more wistful sighing after Ginevra. (Boy, did I breathe a sigh of relief!) He keeps the incident to himself, not wanting to hurt his mother. It turns out, however, that she saw the whole thing herself and laughed it off. I love this woman.

Later on, after Lucy returns to school, she and Ginevra talk about the incident, and Lucy decides to have fun with her. Here's an abbreviated version of my favorite section -

"How is our well-beloved John? Do tell me about him. The poor man must be in a sad way. What did he say to my behaviour the other night? Wasn’t I cruel? ....Tell me what he said. I saw he was terribly cut up.”

“He said you looked as if at heart you were already Madame de Hamal.”

“Did he?” she cried with delight. “He noticed that? How charming! I thought he would be mad with jealousy......and how ever did you get him home?”

“How ever, indeed! Have you no pity on his poor mother and me? Fancy us holding him tight down in the carriage, and he raving between us, fit to drive everybody delirious. The very coachman went wrong, somehow, and we lost our way.”

“You don’t say so? You are laughing at me. Now, Lucy Snowe——”

“I assure you it is fact—and fact, also, that Dr. Bretton would not stay in the carriage. He broke from us, and would ride outside.”

“And afterwards?”

“Afterwards—when he did reach home—the scene transcends description....you will be able to conceive Dr. Graham Bretton rejecting his supper in the first instance—the chicken, the sweet-bread prepared for his refreshment, left on the table untouched. Then—but it is of no use dwelling at length on the harrowing details. Suffice it to say that never, in the most stormy fits and moments of his infancy, had his mother such work to tuck the sheets about him as she had that night.”

“He wouldn’t lie still?”

“He wouldn’t lie still. There it was. The sheets might be tucked in, but the thing was to keep them tucked in.”

“And what did he say?”

“Say! Can’t you imagine him demanding his divine Ginevra, anathematizing that demon De Hamal, raving about golden locks, blue eyes, white arms, glittering bracelets?”

.....to speak the truth, never had I been less dissatisfied with her than I was then. There was pleasure in thinking of the contrast between the reality and my description—to remember Dr. John enjoying the drive home, eating his supper with relish, and retiring to rest with Christian composure.

Ha!

So that's it for this week. I cant wait to read more!

2010

Happy New Year!

I can't believe it's been a decade since the "turn of the millennium." Amazing how quickly time goes by. There's something both sad and exciting about a new year - sadness because you can never get time back - all the good times you've had are mere memories now, and all the time you wasted will never be redeemed; it's exciting, however, because you have a whole year ahead of you filled with potentials - you can only guess and speculate on what's going to happen. Only God knows what's in store for us. Isn't that interesting how all the things in the future haven't happened yet, but they exist in God's mind?

Deep philosophical thoughts aside, I'm also surprised at how it's already been a year since I started this blog! I still vividly remember sitting in consternation in the living room, trying to figure out how to write a post. Ha. I hope I have many more years of blogging here yet!

Speaking of blogging, I'm really going to try at getting better with posting more often. Life gets so busy and at the end of the day the thought of using my mind and writing doesn't always appeal to me.........but I'm convinced it's a great way to organize my thoughts, build my skills at writing, and hopefully saying something worthwhile for others! Therefore, one of my New Year's resolutions is to be a better blogger. :-)

Since the topic of time is on my mind, I thought I'd leave you with this quote from Harvey Newcomb -

A very common fault lies in not estimating the value of a moment. This leads to the waste of immense portions of precious time. It is with time as with an estate. The old adage is, "Take care of the pennies, and the pounds will take care of themselves." So, if we take care of the moments, the hours will take care of themselves. Our whole life is made up of moments. A little calculation may startle those who carelessly trifle away small portions of time. Suppose you waste only ten minutes at a time, six times in a day; this will make an hour. This hour is subtracted from that portion of your time which might have been devoted to active employments. Sleep, refreshment, and personal duties, generally occupy at least one half of the twenty-four hours. You have, then, lost one-twelfth of the available portion of the day. Suppose you live to the age of seventy years. Take from this the first ten years of your life. From the sixty remaining years. you will have thrown away five years! These five years are taken from that portion of time which should have been employed in the cultivation of the mind, and in the practical duties of piety!

The common excuse for neglecting the improvement of the mind and the cultivation of personal piety, is the lack of time. Were you to employ one half of this time in reading, at the rate of twenty pages an hour, you would be able to read more than eighteen thousand pages, or sixty volumes, of three hundred pages each. If you employ the other half in devotional exercises, in addition to the time you would spend in this manner, upon the supposition that these five years are lost, what an influence will it have upon your personal piety! Or, if you spend the whole of it in the active duties of Christian benevolence, how much good may you accomplish! Think what you might do by employing five years in the undivided service of your Master.

Villette - Chapters 12-15

Beginning with a sickness of one of Madame Beck's children, a Dr. John (as they call him) frequently visits the school. Lucy's suspicions begin to arise when the doctor continues to call even when nobody seems to be sick. Madame Beck pays more attention to her own appearance, and seems to light up when the doctor is in the room. Could there be something amiss?

Meanwhile, Lucy and Genevra hang out with each other quite often. Genevra, who has by now shown herself to be a hopeless flirt, repeatedly mentions a certain "Isidore" - an unfortunate young man who has developed an ardent affection for her. It's the typical infatuated/duped-guy-willing-to-jump-off-cliff-for-flighty-girl situation. I always find those to be among the top 5 most annoying situations in a book. JUST GET OVER HER, FOOL. Ah, I feel better now.

At the back of the garden behind the school is a tree-lined alley, which has become a favorite haunt of Lucy's. While sitting there one day, a box mysteriously drops from the window of a house nearby. Inside is a bouquet of flowers and a sappy love note. Out of the blue, Dr. John appears on the scene, intent on recovering the box and its contents. Suddenly they spot Madame Beck characteristically approaching, presumably to investigate the commotion. Dr. John disappears. Madame Beck acts suspiciously.

I found what happens next to be rather funny - Madame Beck (after searching Lucy's things again) leaves the house in an obvious fashion, and Dr. John comes for a visit. He and Lucy end up alone in a room and talk about the box, and he reveals that, although he didn't write the note, he knows who did and for whom it was intended. He's about to tell when the door suddenly makes a noise which is followed by a sneeze, and Madame Beck cooly walks through the room. The poor woman is found out in spite of her tricks.

The end of the school year comes and the school puts on a ball. During the festivities, the questions of what was going on with Madame Beck & the young Dr. John, and the identities of the two apparent lovers are resolved -

• Madame Beck had a crush on Dr. John.
  
• Dr. John turns out to be Isidore.
  
• The box/love note were from a rival - an empty-headed pretty boy. Lucy tries to show him that Genevra isn't exactly a fine catch, but he tells her she's being too severe. I like how she sets him straight -

“I love Miss Fanshawe far more than De Hamal [the rival] loves any human being, and would care for and guard her better than he. Respecting De Hamal, I fear she is under an illusion. The man’s character is known to me, all his antecedents, all his scrapes. He is not worthy of your beautiful young friend.”

“My ‘beautiful young friend’ ought to know that, and to know or feel who is worthy of her,” said I. “If her beauty or her brains will not serve her so far, she merits the sharp lesson of experience.”

“Are you not a little severe?”

“I am excessively severe—more severe than I choose to show you. You should hear the strictures with which I favour my ‘beautiful young friend,’ only that you would be unutterably shocked at my want of tender considerateness for her delicate nature.”

“She is so lovely, one cannot but be loving towards her. You—every woman older than herself must feel for such a simple, innocent, girlish fairy a sort of motherly or elder-sisterly fondness. Graceful angel! Does not your heart yearn towards her when she pours into your ear her pure, childlike confidences? How you are privileged!” And he sighed.

“I cut short these confidences somewhat abruptly now and then,” said I. “But excuse me, Dr. John; may I change the theme for one instant? What a godlike person is that De Hamal! What a nose on his face—perfect! Model one in putty or clay, you could not make a better or straighter or neater; and then, such classic lips and chin; and his bearing—sublime.”

“De Hamal is an unutterable puppy, besides being a very white-livered hero.”

“You, Dr. John, and every man of a less refined mould than he, must feel for him a sort of admiring affection, such as Mars and the coarser deities may be supposed to have borne the young, graceful Apollo.”

“An unprincipled, gambling little jackanapes!” said Dr. John curtly, “whom, with one hand, I could lift up by the waistband any day, and lay low in the kennel if I liked.”

“The sweet seraph!” said I. “What a cruel idea! Are you not a little severe, Dr. John?”

HAHA.

Anyways, school ends and as Lucy has nowhere to go, she stays in Villette. The utter loneliness of the situation depresses her, and she develops a fever. She wanders around town and ends up in a confessional, spilling everything out to a priest, who asks her to see him the next day. I was so scared while reading that she'd do it, but to my relief, Lucy stands him up and does not become a papist. Ah.

I really like Lucy. She's sensible, philosophical, analytical, curious, and has a travel bug. She slightly reminds me of Jane Eyre. Interesting how Charlotte Bronte uses a similar type of heroine in her novels. I wonder if it's the same in Shirley and The Professor? I heard that Jane Eyre was slightly auto-biographical. I heard the same of Villette. And The Professor. Perhaps she wrote the books with herself in mind as the heroine, sort of getting to imagine what her life could have been like in different situations? That'd be an interesting thing to keep in mind as I keep reading.

Wow, this got long.

Villette - Chapters 3-11

Last week I was busy and never got around to writing a Junto post, so I'm combining the two-weeks' worth of reading here.

So far, I love this book. The characters are absolutely fascinating, the plot is unpredictable, and there's a lot of food for thought.

Despite what I first believed, Paulina and Graham became good friends. After a while, Polly's father sent for her to go to the continent with him, and shortly afterwards Lucy Snowe returned to her own family. Eight years go by - Lucy and the Brettons fall out of contact, a family member dies, and Lucy finds herself left to make her way in the world. After a brief time taking care of a dying elderly lady, Lucy travels to London and decides to go to Europe. She boards a ship and meets a rather superficial young lady named Genevra Fanshaw, who happens to mention that she goes to a boarding school in a town called Villette.

Upon landing in France, Lucy and Genevra part ways and Lucy is undecided about what to do next. She spontaneously decides to go to Villette and see what the town has to offer. After arriving in the town, she was directed to an inn and upon reaching the destination realizes that she made a wrong turn - she had reached the aforementioned boarding school instead. Figuring this was too providential a circumstance to ignore, she calls on the head mistress - Madame Beck - and despite not speaking a word of French, she lands a job.

Madame Beck is a curious character. The personification of stoicism, tact, and reserve, she rarely lets on to what she's really thinking. She's easy to work for - her rules are moderate and never gets angry. But she has her flaws. She is obsessed with the approval of others. If her students dislike a teacher, the teacher's fired; she avoids confrontations by placing others in stressful situations in her stead. Also, her only motivation is self interest. Reason, emotion, coercion are nothing. If, however, you show her that a particular move would considerably benefit herself, you've won her over. Her method of governing her school is disturbingly unconventional but rather amusing - espionage. It sort of reminded me of The Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe - she and her spies are everywhere. During Lucy's first night there, Madame Beck snuck into her room, went through her trunks, and duplicated her keys in an attempt to understand her character. This woman both creeps me out and cracks me up.

I found it funny in chapter 8 that Lucy commanded the respect of a classroom of rowdy girls by ripping one girl's English paper in two and locking another delinquent in a book closet. Ha. Just think about the "abuse" lawsuits that probably would have resulted nowadays.

I love how Lucy describes herself as living two lives - that of the outside world, and that of her mind. I never realized that other people saw their lives like that too.

This is a good book.

The Character of Rebekah...

...is the title of one of the chapters in one of my favorite books, Female Piety. I thought I'd post some particularly good excerpts from the chapter - the graces demonstrated by Rebekah in Genesis are still lovely in the sight of God today. You can read the rest of the chapter here, if you're so inclined.

Observe the COURTEOUS affability of this interesting young woman [Rebekah]. Here was a stranger, a servant, though evidently a servant of a wealthy master; and yet how respectful, how gentle, how affable was her address. Josephus, fond of adding in his paraphrastic manner to the terseness and simplicity of the Scripture narrative, relates that there were other young women with Rebekah, who were asked for water, but refused; and that she reproved them for their churlishness. COURTESY is a befitting grace in both sexes, but most so in the female. While rudeness, which is a 'blemish' upon masculine character, is a 'blot' upon feminine character. A female churl is a monstrosity, from which we turn away with insufferable disgust. Courtesy is one of the cheapest exercises of virtue; it costs even less than rudeness—for the latter, except in hearts that are petrified into stone, must put the subject of it to some expense of feeling. Even a rough voice issuing from female lips is disagreeable, much more rough manners exhibited by a female form.

There are various things which prevent the exercise of courtesy. In some cases, it is to be traced to pride, a vice which befits a demon, but not a woman. In others it is the result of an absolute bad disposition—a morose, sour, and ill-conditioned mind, which knows no congenial seasons, and experiences no soft emotions. Some are petulant and peevish, and when putting on a mood of civility, are easily driven from it by the slightest touch of their irritability. Be courteous then; it is, if not of the solid substance of holiness, at least its polish. It is a Christian grace; for an apostle has said, "Be compassionate and courteous."

Akin to this was Rebekah's KINDNESS. There was not only an external affability of manner—but a real benevolence of disposition. Here was a stranger, tired and faint with a day's journey in a hot country, asking her kind offices to procure a supply of water for himself and his weary animals. To grant his request for himself, would have cost her no great labor; but it must have been a considerable effort to draw water enough for a number of thirsty camels! And this is more apparent when you know the construction of eastern wells, which are not like ours, but are a kind of sunken cistern, to which you descend by a flight of steps. How many tiresome descents must this young creature have made, before she satisfied the thirst of Eleazar's camels...

Insensibility in a man is bad enough, but worse in a woman. An unfeeling woman is a contradiction in terms, for the female heart has ever been found the dwelling-place of kindness, where the misery of others, when all other hopes have failed, is sure to find an asylum. In what age, or in what country in the world, has woman forfeited her character as the ministering angel of humanity? When and where has the female bosom disowned the claims of misery and repudiated the virtue of benevolence? Arctic snows have not frozen up the springs of mercy in the female heart, nor tropical suns dried them up. Tyranny has not crushed it out, nor barbarism extinguished it. Look at Mr. Park, when alone in the midst of Africa, and lying down to die in poverty and despair, found by the black women of that wild land, carried to their tent, fed, clad, and cherished amid the tender strains of the impromptu song, with which they cheered the feelings of his heart and expressed the benevolence of their own. Young women, cherish in your bosoms the purest philanthropy. Abhor selfishness—you are made for kindness. Oppose not the design of your Creator. Do no violence to your own nature. A stony heart does not behoove you. A tearless woman is a revolting scene in our sorrowful world. She may be pure and beautiful as the marble statue—but if withal she is as hard and cold, who can admire her?

MODESTY is the most attractive of all female graces. What is intelligence without it, but bolder impudence; or beauty but a more seductive snare? There is, I know, a reserve that degenerates into repulsive pride; as on the other hand, there is a frankness that corrupts into forwardness. Woman is intended neither to avoid man by a bashful timidity, nor to court him by an obtrusive advance. A genuine modesty guards against each extreme. It is that semi-transparent veil, which by revealing half her excellence, makes more lovely that which it reveals, and excites desire to know the rest. It is her shield as well as her veil, repelling all the darts with which, either by acts, by words, or by looks, any one would dare to assail her purity. It is also her ornament, investing all her other excellences with additional charms, the blush of purity upon the cheek of beauty. It is her power, by which she subdues every heart that is worth the conquest. Yes, what is not modesty to woman? Lay not aside your veil. Cast not away your shield. Divest not yourselves of your brightest ornament. Enfeeble not your power to influence others. Avoid everything in which the absence of this virtue can show itself.

Villette - Chapters 1 & 2

In every book I read, it's the characters that usually make or break the story for me. I'm fascinated by simply studying people - how they think, express themselves, behave, interact, etc., etc. When I read a story in which the author has done a great job of developing the characters, it makes the book come alive for me. While I didn't particularly enjoy the plot of Jane Eyre, it was the personalities and relationship of Jane and Mr. Rochester that made me really like reading it. So I have high hopes for the characters in Villette. So far, there's:

• Lucy Snowe, the heroine. As she's the narrator(-ess?), I haven't really gotten to see what she's like quite yet. At this point the setting and background info is still being presented. But I want to like her. :-)
  
• Paulina Home. I'm sorry, but this kid bugs me. I'm guessing she's 4 or 5-ish, but she acts very much like an adult. It's hyper-maturity that is border-line insolence. She acts very affectedly and puts on airs with people older than her. It's incredibly annoying. Ugh.
• Mrs. Bretton, Lucy's godmother. Lucy has come to live with her for a while.
  
• Graham Bretton, Mrs. Bretton's 16 year old son. As the narator puts it, he's "a spoiled, whimsical child;" he immediately picks up on Paulina's weirdness, and begins a series of attempts at mortifying her. Normally his type of character would slightly disgust me, but as he's annoying someone I find annoying, I like him. Muahahaha.

I leave off with this passage that I found highly amusing/gratifying:

She [Paulina] wished Mrs. Bretton and myself good-night; she seemed hesitating whether Graham’s deserts entitled him to the same attention, when he caught her up with one hand, and with that one hand held her poised aloft above his head. She saw herself thus lifted up on high in the glass over the fireplace. The suddenness, the freedom, the disrespect of the action were too much.

‘For shame, Mr. Graham!” was her indignant cry; “put me down!” And when again on her feet—“I wonder what you I would think of me if I were to treat you in that way, lifting you with my hand” (raising that mighty member), “as Warren lifts the little cat.”

So saying, she departed.