"There is something wrong somewhere," he said, "A young girl's mother is her natural refuge in every perplexity.I hoped that you, who have rather more sense than most girls of your age, could give me some idea what the difficulty is."After he had gone, I am ashamed to own that I was in a perfect flutter of delight at what he had said about my having more sense than most girls.Meeting poor mother on the stairs while in this exalted state of mind, I gave her a very short answer to a kind question, and made her unhappy, as I have made myself.
It is just a year ago to-day that I got frightened at my novel-reading propensities, and resolved not to look into one for twelve months.I was getting to dislike all other books, and night after night sat up late, devouring everything exciting I could get hold of.One Saturday night I sat up till the clock struck twelve to finish one, and the next morning I was so sleepy that I had to stay at home from church.Now I hope and believe the back of this taste is broken, and that I shall never be a slave to it again.Indeed it does not seem to me now that I shall ever care for such books again.
Feb.24.-Mother spoke to me this morning for the fiftieth time, Ireally believe, about my disorderly habits.I don't think I am careless because I like confusion, but the trouble is I am always in a hurry and a ferment about something.If I want anything, I want it very much, and right away.So if I am looking for a book, or a piece of music, or a pattern, I tumble everything around, and can't stop to put them to rights.I wish I were not so-eager and impatient.But Imean to try to keep my room and my drawers in order, to please mother.
She says, too, that I am growing careless about my hair and my dress.
But that is because my mind is so full of graver, more important things.I thought I ought to be wholly occupied with my duty to God.
But mother says duty to God includes duty to one's neighbor, and that untidy hair, put up in all sorts of rough bunches, rumpled cuffs and collars, and all that sort of thing, make one offensive to all one meets.I am sorry she thinks so, for I find it very convenient to twist up my hair almost any how, and it takes a good deal of time to look after collars and cuffs.
March 14.-To-day I feel discouraged and disappointed.I certainly thought that if God really loved me, and I really loved Him, I should find myself growing better day by day.But I am not improved in the least.Most of the time I spend on my knees I am either stupid;feeling nothing at all, or else my head is full of what I was doing before I began to pray, or what I am going to do as soon as I get through.I do not believe anybody else in the world is like me in this respect.Then when I feel differently, and can make a nice, glib prayer, with floods of tears running down my cheeks, I get all puffed up, and think how much pleased God must be to see me so fervent in spirit.I go down-stairs in this frame, and begin to scold Susan for misplacing my music, till all of a sudden I catch myself doing it, and stop short, crestfallen and confounded.I have so many such experiences that I feel like a baby just learning to walk, who is so afraid of falling that it has half a mind to sit down once for all.
Then there is another thing.Seeing mother so fond of Thomas AKempis, I have been reading it, now and then, and am not fond of it at all.From beginning to end it exhorts to self-denial in every form and shape.Must I then give up all hope of happiness in this world, and modify all my natural tastes and desires? Oh, I do love so to be happy! I do so hate to suffer! The very thought of being sick, or of being forced to nurse sick people, with all their cross ways, and of losing my friends, or of having to live with disagreeable people, make's me shudder.I want to please God, and to be like Him.Icertainly do.But I am so young, and it is so natural to want to have a good time! And now I am in for it I may as well tell the whole story.When I read the lives of good men and women who have died and gone to heaven, I find they all liked to sit and think about God and about Christ.Now I don't.I often try, but my mind flies off in a tangent.The truth is I am perfectly discouraged.
March 17.-I went to see Dr.Cabot to-day, but he was out, so Ithought I would ask for Mrs.Cabot, though I was determined not to tell her any of my troubles.But somehow she got the whole story out of me, and instead of being shocked, as I expected she would be, she actually burst out laughing! She recovered herself immediately, however.
"Do excuse me for laughing at you, you dear child you!" she said.
