A Plea and a Promise : Part 1

The Girl and Her Religion
by Margaret Slattery

(Page 16 of 19)

The Plea is for a purer, more invigorating atmosphere for our girls to breathe - the Promise, that when it is given to them they will respond, their religious, as well as physical and mental life will be normal and the vitality in it will express itself in action.

Inspiration is a part of a girl's religion and inspiration means "inhaling - taking into the life that which creates high and lofty emotions."

Memory takes me back to school days when with windows wide open, shoulders squared and heads erect, the teacher's command bade us inhale and we filled our lungs to the full with fresh, life-giving air. Then came the command to exhale, and we emptied our lungs, that there might be room for more of the clear invigorating air. In life's larger school our girls of today are inhaling what? Is it the fresh, untainted, life-giving air?

The other day on the street I overheard a girl uttering words that made me turn in dismay to look at her. I saw, not what I expected to see, a coarse, ill-clad, ignorant girl, but a pretty, fashionably dressed girl with high school books under her arm. Where had she breathed in the sentiments regarding honor which in slangy phrases she breathed out with no hesitation or shame? There was nothing high or lofty in the emotion enkindled by what she breathed into her soul from her environment, and what she had breathed out into her companion's ears could not fail to weaken and injure.

I found myself wondering what her environment could be and later when I described her, a girl companion told me her name. I remembered her then, one of the girls who had grown up quickly, the daughter of a skilled mechanic who made good wages and owned a comfortable home. She was an only child and her mother was socially ambitious for her. The mother had done nothing to interest her daughter in the church, only now and then did she attend Sunday-school; friends were entertained Sunday evening, so she had no connection with the young peoples' societies of the church. She is a type of a vast number of girls whose religious sense lies dormant.

Knowing now her environment, I asked myself, "Where can she 'breathe in that which will stir her soul to high and lofty emotion,' and enable her to help and bless her world?" At home? Can she there breathe in that which will enkindle noble ambition to love and serve in a world which so needs love and service?

Once there were numberless homes and, thank God, there are still many where a girl can breathe in deep draughts of the fresh, sweet, wholesome atmosphere in which the family lives. But knowing something of that mother, I knew she discussed with her daughter, dress and parties, her future at college, her music, her marks, and laid wisely and well her plans for the forming of friendships which she considered "an advantage." In her presence she criticized friends and neighbors and related bits of gossip. Occasionally she scolded her for faults that happened at the moment to annoy. Her father talked boastfully of his successes and ambitions, criticized the men for whom he did business, found fault with those whom he employed, occasionally talked of politics in a vain attempt to interest his wife and daughter. There were few books in the home. The newspapers and one or more popular magazines represented the only reading of the family. The daughter played a little, sang a little, sewed a very little and studied as much as she must to insure the certificate for entrance to college. But she attended matinees, dancing parties in large numbers, and belonged to a whist club. A whist club, poor girl, at sixteen! Her parents were blind and deaf to the fact that in their daughter's life there was nothing, save now and then a desperate attempt on the part of an earnest high school teacher, or a word from a teacher who occasionally found her in the Sunday-school class, which might inspire her soul with high ideals, pure, noble thoughts expressed in action which makes life sweeter. Of nature's beauties, of her countless miracles, of the dramatic acts of current history, of the lives and needs of other girls she knew almost nothing. In her pitiful little world she lived, her best self dying for want of pure air with the oxygen of power in it.

Can she find in the social life and amusements of the day the inspiration needed to fill her soul with life that it may develop as her normal healthy body develops? No, the girls of our country do not find our social life a help to the higher expression of self. Only here and there do wise parents make social life simple, free from show and sham, from false standards and appeals to the senses. But few know how to center the social life in the home, in the out-of-doors, in clean sports, instead of letting it center about exotic conditions, unreasonable hours, and deadly refreshments. Only now and then does the present social life demand any exercise of mental power.

It is wonderfully encouraging to find, here and there, groups of girls of sixteen and their boy friends having their simple good times in each other's homes, enjoying the picnic and the skating party; or the girls by themselves enjoying camp life, the tramp in the woods, the gymnasium class; or with their parents or chaperones enjoying the moving pictures of high standard, without vaudeville. These girls are such a contrast to the usual groups of sophisticated, bored, blasé girls who at eighteen have tired of the ordinary means of recreation and amusement. Our social life suffers from too rapid growth. It does not offer the tonic for healthy social nature. It needs pruning. Some of it needs to be torn up by the roots.

And what of the schools? Can she find there the atmosphere that will stir her soul to noble, unselfish joyous living? Yes, in some schools. Many are engaged in merely continuing the "system," following a curriculum strangely deficient in those things which touch life directly, to inspire it and kindle it with ambition.

Recently, four names, the names of women, were presented to classes of girls in the last year of the grammar grades and the four years of the high school. The girls were asked, "Did you ever hear of Frances Willard? What do you know about her?" Then followed the names of Mary Lyon, Clara Barton, Alice Freeman Palmer. The show of hands and the written replies were pitiful. Some had a vague idea that they had heard the name somewhere, a few gave one or two facts. Clara Barton seemed the one most familiar but knowledge concerning her was very limited.

Copyright, 1913 by Luther H. Cary
Fifth Printing, The Pilgrim Press
Boston