CORRESPONDENCE.
-" A WOMAN'S WOMAN : " FROM HER POINT OF VIEW. [AN INTERCEPTED LETTER.]
MY DEAR VI,-I have no news whatever to give you, but, upon this very showery afternoon, feel rather inclined to "talk." Does it bore you to hear my crude ideas P But there are some things which one wants to say to other people, and just now (suggested by those articles and letters in the Spectator, particularly that delightful one, p. 193, about dear Julia) I have been thinking how much -one gains by caring for women. Yes, I know you will say, "It is not the time to call yourself a woman's woman," when people are talking of them favourably ! But how many people believe that we resort to the society of our fellow- feminines as a pis-aller, whereas the exact truth is, that, being extremely fond of human beings, we find it first convenient, and then delightful, to enjoy the society of those who, for the greater portion of time and in the greater numbers, must be our neighbours. Moreover, I think it is the happiest women, and those who are the brightest in general society, who are thoroughly popular with women. That people have felt there is just now a distinguishable class of such women, is perhaps due to two causes : firstly, as we all know, the average young man of the day does not seem to be of such good stuff as his sister ; secondly, the new pleasure which women have in each other's society is a product of the present. Next to an increased care for child-life and interest in all classes, and to our growing perception of the value of preventive work, the happiest result of the labours of the past three or four genera- tions of women, and of their more individual forerunners, is that our capacity for interesting conversation with each other is enormously increased, and that, on a much wider scale, friendship can now flourish on the feminine soil, previously too thin for its frequent existence.
It is not only the paucity of earlier records which makes us know this. Distinguished women always formed friend- ships,—usually not with women ; the " little, unremembered " women have the same opportunities as before. But in many cases we have now—as set-offs to other drawbacks in the breaking-up of tranquil ties to one " familiar neighbourhood " —the power of choice from many, even the capacity to appreciate those of other nationalities ; an increased freedom whilst character is flexible, and experiments cost a supposed dignity nothing ; the comradeship of work,— " For one sincere key opes all Fortune's doors,"
and one honest bit of service makes us know our fellows ; the immense amount of practical charity that teaches consideration and compels the exercise of tact ; the whole training of the day in mental and physical education ; for many of us, a new development of old teachings in employment of the highest faculties of all. Then, troublesome as our "modern nerves" may be (giving us the hard choice of real self-discipline against them in youth, or slavery to them in after-days), " pain as well as knowledge is power." And so opportunity, work, training, and self-knowledge, wider than ever before (indirectly affecting those who are not directly touched), will make intimacy of thought more possible between us. One other point, too, may be noticed, and it is most noticeable to any one who has seen much of women,—the immensely increased sense of value of the word of honour. The generation which just escaped old-time severity and had not reached modern responsibility, may not consciously lie, but it is inaccurate, at times to an astounding degree. With less real goodness, perchance, with far less courtesy at times, the younger women, in precisely the same circumstances, will show a keen sense of honour as well as of humour, and a knowledge that laws are not made to be broken for a single person's convenience. This firmness and loyalty to persons and plans, reticence and reasonableness, may not be new—of course they are not—but they are much more common than they were. A woman has opportunities and may have powers of judging women ; and if we needs must love the highest when we see it," the fact that there are now so many more women liked by their own sex simply means that women are much more likeable. Nor do I know any particular type of woman of whom one can predict popularity with women,—they are about as general in their require- ments as the lover in the once ever-sung ballad of " My Queen." Unselfish, truthful, sympathetic, and interested in life (and life to women means often a keen sense of "things not seen "),—those qualities are what they demand from, and, moreover, what they will develop in, their queens : humbled by the power of helpfulness bestowed upon them, and left mourning by the gratitude and devotion shown after little kindnesses in the little worries of life. Sympathy (born of intelligence and suffering for the most part), that is the gift which wins women ; even those with happiness in home-life —married home-life blessed with children—love the touch of the woman's hands, and need the friendly eyes to brighten in their joy.
Will you laugh at my next point ? But you know it is true. Conventional advantages do count in being able to get our companionable needs tolerably well satisfied in women's society. In one way, I candidly confess it may be at times apis-aller. (But, in these days, haven't you noticed that general conversation after dinner is sometimes much better before men join us ? It is rather funny to notice some bright women suddenly descend to the artificial level they suppose to be expected of them, and patiently return to the required attitude of looking pretty and interested over the local subject once more P Is it necessary P Anyhow, I know I prefer May as she is to me, to May as she is to those hunting-men. This in parenthesis.) But one really can be oneself with the women one likes : very seldom this is possible with men. To
show interest and to evoke it, only seems a subtler form of flirtation ; occasionally really having all its primary
and secondary drawbacks, without the delights of deliberate minor mischief such as those enjoy who mean to flirt, and who want and are wanted for quite other objects than friendliness or the sharpening of wits. Young girls land themselves in present scrapes and future sorrows simply from a wish to be distinguished by somebody, and older life has unpleasant surprises when a woman finds herself regarded as a woman, and not as the impersonal being she has considered herself to be. Genuine love-stories are sheltered by women, but " shams" are discounted by those who—probably knowing the higher, the unavoidable, lonelinesses of life—do not create imaginary attachments or require dangerous pastimes. Of course character counts for much, but training for more.
Anyway, one's letters from women are safe, and can be very pleasant, as we know ! Take one's post-bag---(what rubbish it is to assert that people do not and cannot write letters now !)—how full it is of interest ! Plenty of personal news, as ever ; and then how much of the inner side of public things,—sometimes through the workers themselves, and at other times through their onlookers ! I know you think that I am exceptionally fortunate in my friendships (and yon know mine do deserve that name), but I don't think so, and I do know that some of the best are with those of whom the world hears least.
Once more, is it not a liberal education which, especially perhaps, the workers give to other women ? For what I value about women is the way in which their gifts are turned to unselfish account. As leisared, they serve ; as cultivated, they teach; as capable, they organise ; as poor, humble, un- known, they do what they can. I have often longed to write " in praise of frumps." What excellent work they do, so well and patiently, and without earthly reward ! What pleasure it is to such women when, without patronage, with respect for their enduring trial of faithfulness in least things, a woman of the wider life will go and talk to them and cheer them up ! And if there are endless deeds and offices of kind- nesses which women can show to each other, not the least of these is the penetrating but kindly discipline which they will most courageously exert upon those they love : one does not wish to escape from the pain inflicted by those who care for one's character as well as one's success. Women know so well just how to praise and blame those they wish to aid, and who else can understand the inconsequent unreasonable- ness of the businesslike and logical woman, the subtle action and reaction of the radically feminine soul P Do you remember Maud saying to you : "You never excuse one, but you never think one is worse than one is "F I have often noticed how well you know when I really want to be comforted, and when I deserve one of those remarks from which there is no escape, and after which no self-complacency is possible as to the cause of one's failure or sense of failure. Your reproofs have been so wise and true and tender.
Dear me ! the rain this week has no conscience ; the shower has lasted an afternoon instead of half-an-hour, and the clouds don't even take the trouble to make themselves up into drops at times,—they come down just as they are ! I am afraid it is rather like the way in which these thoughts have poured themselves out. But if you only knew how many more might have been inflicted upon you !—Ever your affectionate
HELEN.
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