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THE 
 
 WILLIAM R. PERKINS 
 UBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY 
 
 Rare Books 
 
FEMALE 
 
 IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. JOHN SANDFORD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 WOMAN IN HER SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC CHARACTER.” 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN, 
 paternoster-row; and 
 J. HATCHARD AND SON, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1836. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by A.Spottiswoode, 
 New-Street-Square. 
 
m 
 
 P 
 
 V.2. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SECOND VOLUME. 
 
 Chap. Page 
 
 VIII. Accomplishment - - . . . l 
 
 IX. Temper - 41 
 
 X. Taste - - - . 70 
 
 XI. Benevolence . . . - . .103 
 
 XII. Marriage . - . . . ..139 
 
 XIII. The Young Wife .... . 174 
 
 XIV. The Young Mother ..... 2 q 4 
 
ERRATUM. 
 
 The numbers of the Chapters in this Volume are misprinted : 
 Chapter VIII. should have been Chapter IX., and so on 
 progressively. 
 
FEMALE IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 The term accomplishment admits of an ex- 
 tensive meaning. By an accomplished person 
 may be implied one well versed in intellectual, 
 as well as elegant attainments, — qualified by 
 natural and acquired endowments to adorn an 
 elevated social station, — and so raised above 
 the ordinary level as to afford a sample of a 
 finished state of culture, and to represent the 
 best tone of mind and manners which the 
 age can realise. We may be allowed, however, 
 to understand accomplishment in its more re- 
 stricted sense, and to express by it a proficiency 
 in such arts as embellish the character, and 
 VOL. II. B 
 
o 
 
 ACC0MPLISH3IENT. 
 
 improve and refine the taste; butwhich, although 
 contributing to general grace and agreeable- 
 ness, are not absolutely essential to mental 
 improvement, or indispensable to moral disci- 
 pline. In short, by accomplishment may be 
 intended the ornamental branches of education, 
 which some cultivate almost exclusively, and 
 which a few as exclusively decry and reject ; 
 and of which, whilst the inordinate pursuit can- 
 not be justified, it may, we hope, be shown 
 that the tendency is to render us more amiable, 
 to increase our own capacity of allowed enjoy- 
 ment, and to enable us to contribute more fre- 
 quently and effectually to that of others. 
 
 To understand the value of accomplishments, 
 and also to regulate our cultivation of them, 
 we must clearly perceive, and bear in mind 
 their legitimate object. The undue depreciation, 
 or the abuse, proceeds from the losing sight of 
 this. The utilitarian, who forgets how much 
 refinement of taste may conduce to happiness 
 and virtue, contemns all that relates to the 
 mere polish of the mind. On the other hand, 
 the worldly and the frivolous, who care only 
 for selfish pleasure or distinction, esteem and 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 3 
 
 cultivate accomplishments only with a view 
 to personal, gratification. But let us regard 
 them as subservient to the improvement of 
 character, and to the power of pleasing and 
 even benefiting others, and we shall neither 
 think them unworthy attainment, nor be in 
 danger of pursuing them to excess. We shall 
 seek proficiency, — because, without proficiency, 
 we can scarcely realise the object we ought to 
 have in view : we shall seek it, with enthusiasm 
 of purpose, — because, without enthusiasm of 
 purpose, we can never, in anything, attain excel- 
 lence; but still we shall assign to accomplish- 
 ment only a subordinate place, and shall allow 
 it to interfere neither with necessary business, 
 nor with important duty. 
 
 Accomplishments may be cultivated from 
 vanity, or from the desire of exciting the admi- 
 ration of the other sex. Where either of these 
 is the stimulus, the pursuit of accomplishment 
 often becomes immoderate; and its attainment is 
 accompanied with much that is displeasing in 
 the character, and unprepossessing in the out- 
 ward deportment. The young person who, 
 after much pains and practice, thinks she has 
 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 realised the cadence of a Pasta, — who, to render 
 the imitation more complete, has copied, not 
 merely the inflexion of the voice, but the very 
 braiding of the hair, and the motion of the eye, — 
 and who has been prompted to her laborious 
 achievement by the prospect of attaining the 
 ne plus' ultra of amateur celebrity, will doubt- 
 less be rewarded by her succes de societe, and 
 will merit at least the ovation, though the 
 highest crown be awarded to the professional 
 performer. Her exhibitions will, however, 
 excite little real pleasure in her hearers ; 
 a few may be gi’atified by her proficiency 
 in art, and may bear with her affectation for 
 the sake of her skill; others may eniw her ta- 
 lent, and grudge the admiration she receives : 
 but, in the very hour of her triumph, the sen- 
 sation she excites will be of a questionable 
 nature; and the incense that is offered her, 
 will partake more of the adulation of ffattery, 
 than of the tribute of disinterested praise. 
 She has herself no genuine relish for her art: 
 neither is hers that amiable ambition that 
 prefers giving pleasure, to calling forth ap- 
 plause. Take her from the private orchestra, — 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 5 
 
 from the excitement of the assembly and con- 
 cert room, — and she will scarcely deem it worth 
 her while to amuse ; she will have a cold, or a 
 head-ache, and will require the homage of a 
 crowd to call forth her powers of entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 This is wholly mistaking the true object of 
 accomplishment ; and we cannot wonder, that, 
 whenever the result is, in any degree, such as 
 has been described, it should raise a question as 
 to the expediency of cultivating what appears to 
 be used only for the purposes of display. But 
 if there is nothing in the nature of accomplish- 
 ment to produce this desire for exhibition; if 
 its intrinsic tendency is neither to debase, nor 
 to enervate, but to refresh and refine the mind; 
 if, instead of rendering young persons more 
 greedy of admiration, it may be the means of 
 making them more independent of any foreign 
 stimulus, more domestic in their habits, and 
 more quiet in their tastes, — not only may the 
 objections be obviated which the abuse or per- 
 version of accomplishment suggests, but it will 
 be allowed that, under proper restrictions, art 
 B 3 
 
6 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 may be a useful, as well as graceful addition to 
 more important attainments. 
 
 Scruples are sometimes entertained as to the 
 propriety of expending time on what partakes 
 so much of the nature of ornament. It is urged 
 that leisure is so valuable, and that the claims of 
 duty and of higher pursuits ai'e so pressing, that 
 no unnecessary occupation should be allowed to 
 engross any portion of hours, which are quite 
 too short for the achievement of the most im- 
 portant ends. In reply to this objection, accom- 
 plishment may be justified on the ground of our 
 acknowledged need of refreshment, and of its 
 affording an agreeable relaxation fr.om grave 
 business and serious application. We may also 
 consider that the mere fact of our devoting 
 time to valuable objects does not, of necessity, 
 involve our improvement in them. The mind, 
 perpetually exercised in a circle, within which 
 nothing extraneous is admitted, may yet never 
 put forth its energies, and in spite of its system- 
 atic labour, may make no advance proportionate 
 to its apparent effort. And it is the same in 
 matters of practical duty ; a continual occupa- 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 7 
 
 tion in one line, a scrupulous rejection of what- 
 ever seems to interfere with it, may yet ac- 
 complish a result inferior to what will be 
 achieved by moving in a less restricted sphere. 
 Without, then, in the slightest degree forgetting 
 the importance of application, let us also re- 
 member, that we are not to calculate on our 
 making progress, or attaining to proficiency, in 
 any thing, merely by the time or pains we expend 
 upon it, but by the actual ■power which we bring 
 to bear. 
 
 fn education, as in all other pursuits, we are 
 perpetually reminded of this fact. Wlien the in- 
 tellectual faculties are in vigorous action, we may 
 accomplish in an hour, what would otherwise be 
 the work of a whole day. And therefore, with 
 respect to mental discipline, the object in early 
 life should be to infuse, if possible, a healthful 
 tone, to habituate to effective exertion, and to 
 strengthen every power which may be turned 
 to profitable account. To this end, diversity of 
 occupation is needful; and accomplishment might 
 be cultivated, were it only with a view to afford 
 it. Nothing indeed gives a more complete 
 change to the severer application of the reflec- 
 B 4 
 
8 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 tive faculties than the culture of art ; and in in- 
 tellectual as in physical action, an alternation 
 of the powers brought into exercise relieves, as 
 much as entire rest. But accomplishment may 
 have even a more direct effect in promoting in- 
 tellectual health ; and as a subsidiary part of the 
 discipline, it may materially contribute to that 
 ' mental temperament which implies ■power. For 
 the study of art calls forth faculties of a new 
 order, extends the range of observation and of 
 thought, and, in short, may conduce to that 
 finished state of culture which puts us in pos- 
 session of our best faculties, and brings these to 
 the highest pitch of their capability. 
 
 At the same time it is essential that the culti- 
 vation of lighter attainments should be pursued 
 so far only as it may really tend to this end. 
 
 The objections to accomplishment, as has been 
 remarked, gather weight, if they do not wholly 
 arise, from the ill consequences of excess. When 
 persons of serious thought see, in examples 
 around them, the most valuable part of eaidy 
 life almost wholly devoted to ornamental attain- 
 ments, — some four or five hours of each day ab- 
 sorbed in music, — another portion of time appro- 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 9 
 
 priated to drawing, — and a third to dancing, — 
 they cannot but be concerned at the misapplica- 
 tion of time, and the waste of the best energies ; 
 and they are perhaps tempted to run into the 
 contrary extreme, to expunge all that may par- 
 take of decoration from the discipline which 
 they prescribe, — and to banish from their school- 
 rooms the piano-forte and the easel, as strictly 
 as they would any mere stimulus to vanity, or 
 incentive to worldly tempers and pursuits. Or 
 when they see young persons, — who, from their 
 station in society, their habits and manners, are 
 qualified to fill only a subordinate rank, — devote 
 the hours which ought to be spent in more 
 homelyemployments, — in working fortheirfami- 
 lies, in superintending or assisting in domestic 
 occupations, perhaps in the business of the farm 
 or of the shop, — disdaining these necessary and 
 respectable labours, for the sake of attaining to 
 an indifferent degree of skill, in what is to them 
 an unsuitable accomplishment, — they are dis- 
 posed perhaps to feel disgust altogether at the 
 cultivation of art, and to throw their influence 
 and example wholly into the scale against it. 
 
 Accomplishment, unless it is the ornament of 
 
10 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 a cultivated mind, is like a fine dress upon a 
 vulgar person : it renders more conspicuous 
 what it is intended to conceal, and disfigures 
 I’ather than beautifies. Accomplishment is a 
 graceful addition when the groundwork is com- 
 plete; but it is no substitute for the essential 
 branches of education, no apology or cloak for 
 imperfect knowledge. Accomplishment is the 
 polish; but the gem that is not precious is not 
 susceptible of lustre : it is the touch of the 
 master; but where the outline has no merit, the 
 added strokes of the proficient are unsuitable 
 and incongruous. 
 
 Still we would say, let not accomplishment 
 be decried, because we may deprecate the vanity 
 that would make it a first object, or lament the 
 folly that would attempt to graf the exotic on 
 an uncongenial stock. Accomplishment is not 
 pleaded for on the ground of its being essential; 
 on the contrary, every ornamental attainment 
 should be regarded as a matter, not of obligation, 
 but of taste. To attempt to create an ear, or a 
 voice, is an effort which will never repay our 
 pains. Where the spark of genius is wanting, 
 it is in vain that we attempt to kindle it. 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 11 
 
 This often appears where accomplishments 
 are deemed indispensable to a certain style 
 of education, or where the culture of one 
 particular art is so insisted on, that even a 
 natural disinclination to it is not admitted as 
 an apology for its discontinuance. In the 
 former case, where all the daughters of a family 
 are, as a matter of course, initiated, at a certain 
 age, in music and drawing, and a portion of 
 each day is devoted to their practice, the result 
 often proves that the time thus spent has been 
 little better than wasted. For, the mere medi- 
 ocrity that is the probable result, and the slight 
 use that is subsequently made of such accom- 
 plishments, are a very inadequate return for 
 the hours spent in their pursuit. And in the other 
 instance, where effort is made to force a love 
 of a peculiar art, and the reward of much endea- 
 vour is mere mechanical execution, the gifted 
 Pandora will be an automaton still, and in spite of 
 her dexterity, will display none of the inspir- 
 ation of genius, nor of the expression of taste. 
 
 The charge of misapplication of time must 
 in such instances, indeed, be allowed ; still the 
 
12 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 general question is not alfected by these excep- 
 ceptions. If accomplishment be a desirable ad- 
 dition to other more important attainments, 
 it were surely advisable to try the taste with 
 regard to them, and to encourage the pursuit 
 of them so far as may contribute to improve- 
 ment and general agreeableness. And in 
 childhood, when the formation of habits of 
 application is of even more importance than 
 actual acquirement, the daily occupation of 
 an hour or two need not be grudged in an 
 endeavour to discover in art, as in study, the 
 bent of our pupils. The indication may be 
 given without any assistance on our parts ; and, 
 in such instances, we shall scarcely hesitate to 
 comply with it. But without so decided a sug- 
 gestion on the part of nature, it is only fair that 
 an opportunity should be afforded for the 
 developement of a latent talent, and, if it exists, 
 the time necessary for its cultivation will not 
 be expended without return. The prosecu- 
 tion of a single accomplishment under these 
 circumstances, with application, assiduity, and 
 adequate instruction, will secure a proficiency 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 13 
 
 in it, and will at the same time invigorate the 
 mind, and involve collateral benefits by no 
 means inconsiderable. 
 
 It may, however, be argued that accomplish- 
 ments, although they contribute to elegance, 
 are yet apt to produce frivolity of mind ; and 
 that they are essentially trivial, and unsuitable 
 to persons of reflection. Fancy and fashion, it 
 is true, have sanctioned employments which 
 are little better than expedients for getting rid 
 of time ; and though these might be excused as 
 amusements, they are not worthy attention as 
 serious pursuits. Yet such trifles sometimes 
 are admitted where higher accomplishments are 
 proscribed, and a young woman may spend her 
 hours on making useless ornaments, who is not 
 allowed to cultivate a relish for the fine arts. 
 
 The distaff and needle are held to be the pro- 
 vince of woman. They have been rendered 
 venerable by classical association, and are at once 
 the resource and pride of the sex. They are 
 connected with recollections of Andromache and 
 Lucretia ; and we owe them a debt of gratitude, 
 were it only for cheering the captive Mary, and 
 for beguiling the lonesome hours of many a 
 
14 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 cloistered recluse. Nor can we look at the an- 
 cestral achievements of the needle, the heir- 
 looms of female industry, without feeling a 
 respect for that pains-taking assiduity, which 
 puts to shame our own more desultory efforts. 
 The curiously wrought chair, the grotesque 
 tapestry, are identified with the traditional 
 image of our grandmothers ; and as we look at 
 the posthumous relics of their art, we associate 
 with these the severe virtues and domestic habits 
 of a pristine school. 
 
 But, in spite of our historic reverence for 
 the mosaic of tent-stitch, may we not suggest a 
 doubt as to the utility of some of those little 
 accomplishments which have been successively 
 in vogue in modern times. The apparatus for 
 shoe-making is, we believe, obsolete, yet inge- 
 nuity is ever at work to devise some pretty 
 nothing as an apology for idleness. Of these 
 ephemeral inventions, it can scarcely be alleged, 
 that they are calculated to soothe and tran- 
 quillize, like the soberising industry of the olden 
 time : their character is more exciting ; they 
 must be recommended by novelty and effect ; 
 if once made common, they lose their attrac- 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 15 
 
 tion, and the work of last year, like the chintz 
 of last spring, is thrown aside as hackneyed 
 and unfashionable. 
 
 Whilst, then, we bestow on these ingenious 
 arts their meed of praise, it cannot but be ad- 
 mitted that they incur the charge of frivolity 
 more than accomplishments of a higher order. 
 The table, which daily exhibits nothing but ma- 
 terials for fancy manufactures, is apt to create 
 a suspicion as to the tone of mind of its fair 
 owner, and to convey the impression that she 
 is more occupied with the ornamental than widi 
 the really important. With I’eference, indeed, 
 to accomplishment generally, it is mediocrity 
 in attainment which strikes us as trifling. The 
 charge cannot be admitted against art in its 
 highest departments. The pursuits that, in 
 their most exalted spheres, have been rendered 
 illustrious by Raphael and by Handel, must 
 not be undervalued because their inferior walks 
 are crowded with inferior practitioners, — nor 
 must we confound the attempts of the latter 
 with the achievements of original genius, or 
 the attainments of cultivated talent. 
 
 To estimate accomplishment, we should con- 
 
16 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 sider both its effect on character and its in- 
 trinsic worth. Accomplishment, when generally 
 cultivated, indicates an advanced state of civi- 
 lisation. The progress and diffusion of the 
 arts mark the degree of intellectual refinement ; 
 and will be felt by the polish which they have 
 imparted to the age. On this account, their 
 effect on the female character is advantageous ; 
 for all that tends to promote gentleness and 
 sweetness in woman renders her more amiable, 
 and contributes to that winning grace, which 
 is the secret of her social attraction. 
 
 It might almost be said that the sex need such 
 a discipline. An intellectual woman, who has 
 trained her mind in the severer studies, gener- 
 ally requires the softening effect of the fine 
 arts, to give not only grace, but feeling and 
 sentiment to her character. And, in the same 
 way, one who may not possess equal mental 
 powers, but who is gifted with other valuable 
 endowments, and spends her time in useful 
 occupations, will still be more gentle and pleas- 
 ing, if she does not disdain the culture of some 
 ornamental talent. 
 
 There seems, indeed, something harsh and 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT, 
 
 17 
 
 unfeminine in a contempt of the elegant arts. 
 Persons who look down upon'accomplishment, 
 are apt to entertain a high idea of their own 
 standard, and to exercise a censorious spirit 
 towards all who in any degree differ from it. 
 Yet, surely, the culture of what is graceful, 
 when it does not supersede, or in the least 
 degree interfere with important obligations, 
 tends to adorn the highest excellence. Music 
 has a peculiar faculty of giving softness to the 
 heart and feelings. The real lover of music 
 cannot listen to a strain of sweet and heaven- 
 born sounds, — cannot herself indulge in the 
 performance of the melody she loves, without 
 being conscious of its happy power. She feels 
 the soothing influence steal upon her soul, and 
 forgets the irritation or the annoyance of the 
 passing hour ; and she rises from her instru- 
 ment with a cheerfulness of spirit and bene- 
 volence of temper which at once dispose and 
 capacitate her to please. And we believe that 
 drawing has a similar effect : at least it com- 
 poses the mind ; it awakens it to a perception 
 of the beautiful, and by leading it to contem- 
 VOL. II. c 
 
18 
 
 ACCOMPLISH3IENT. 
 
 plate what is lovely, it withdraws it from dwell- 
 ing upon what is disappointing and vexatious. 
 Accomplishments, indeed, like poetry, impart 
 a delicacy of tone, which, though clearly evi- 
 dent as a result, is transfused by an almost 
 imperceptible process into the character. We 
 can scarcely tell how the arts attain this end, 
 — whether by the peculiar nature of the plea- 
 sure they excite, or by the taste which they ge- 
 nerate and improve, or by the abstraction of 
 thought from what is vulgar which they oc- 
 casion. But in whatever way they operate, we 
 cannot but allow that their tendency is such 
 as has been stated ; and we feel that the facul- 
 ties given us for their culture are intended as 
 so many channels by which gentle emotions 
 should enter our hearts, and refinement be 
 communicated to mind and manner. 
 
 Elegance of mind, it will be allowed, is a 
 recommendation to any woman. This may 
 exist without accomplishment; it may be a 
 gift of nature, or imparted by intellectual cvd- 
 ture, or even by association with others. But 
 accomplishment tends to produce it ; and by 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 19 
 
 bringine us into contact with what is in itself so 
 graceful, may be the means of communicating 
 grace to us. 
 
 Accomplishment, however, may be placed 
 upon higher ground; if we consider it as the 
 means of bringing us under the influence of the 
 poetry of the arts, and leading us to value all 
 that is sublime and beautiful in them. The 
 emotions exerted by the chefs d’oeuvre of genius 
 ai’e amongst our most elevated feelings, and 
 seem, as it were, a part of our higher nature; 
 and yet to experience these, or at least to feel 
 them in their full force, we must possess and 
 cultivate the taste which enables us to discern 
 excellence in art, and to understand its power. 
 
 It is not the vulgar and unpractised that are 
 capable of feeling what Corregio has painted, or 
 Handel has composed. Not only can they not 
 appreciate the perfection of the art — in the 
 one case, the delicacy and richness of the 
 colouring, or in the other, the harmony of 
 the counterpoint — but they are not suscep- 
 tible of the sentiment which, in minds of 
 higher mould, is called forth by every exhi- 
 bition of what is beautiful in nature, or lofty 
 
20 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 in idea. At least, the pleasure they may expe- 
 rience is that of sense, — it is the gratification of 
 the eye or ear ; it is not that intellectual enthu- 
 siasm which the embodying of sublime concep- 
 tions calls forth in persons of chaste and culti- 
 vated taste. 
 
 Illusory as may be the feeling, considered as 
 a religious impression, which the arts when ele- 
 vated to devotional purposes may excite, we 
 need surely not entertain so scrupidous a jealousy 
 of their influence, as to deny to tliem the pow'er 
 of aiding to call forth or foster the aspirations 
 of the pious mind. When we listen to the heart- 
 inspiring strain, which, when poured forth fi’om 
 the assembly of Christian worshippers, seems to 
 realize on earth the music of the celestial choir; 
 or when, through the cloistered aisle, the peal 
 of the mighty diapason swells upon our ear ; or 
 when the imposing grandeur of Handel’s sacred 
 song, or the flow of Mozart’s solemn harmony 
 strikes the chord of mystic sjnupathy within our 
 breasts, — ai'e we not removed for a season from 
 the world of sense ? do we not, as it ^vere, catch 
 the sounds of the harps of heaven ? is not the 
 spirit of devotion stirred within us, and its 
 flame fanned within our souls ? Or, when we 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 21 
 
 look at the ideal form of the man of sorrow, 
 as shadowed forth by the pencil of the im- 
 mortal artist, — when we contemplate the ma- 
 jesty* of his agonized person, which the touch 
 of devotion has pourtrayed, — when in the 
 delineation of even his youthful image f we 
 trace the lines of unsearchable wisdom, and read 
 the deep workings of his Almighty mind, do we 
 not feel such a realization of His presence as 
 brings us, as it were, into contact with incarnate 
 Deity — as recalls to us the scenes of Galilee and 
 Calvary, and conveys to our immediate appre- 
 hension the sublimest mysteries of faith ? There 
 is surely nothing of this which savours of super- 
 stition, — no approach to an earthly or carnal 
 sentiment. There can be no danger that the 
 enlightened Protestant, w’ho, to the spiritual 
 object of adoration, thinks not of rendering 
 other than a spiritual service, should be arrested 
 in approach to the Eternal and Invisible by a 
 mere object of sense, or, for a moment, should 
 confound the material and perishable with the 
 immaterial and Divine. No! we may safely 
 
 * Corregio’s Ecce Homo. 
 
 f Leonardo da Vinci’s Christ among the Doctors. 
 
 c 3 
 
22 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 allow the influence, and welcome the few enno- 
 bling impressions of which we are susceptible. 
 And more — with hearts which are ever prone 
 to decline towards this world, with minds 
 which are perpetually intruded on by thoughts 
 of petty or selfish interest, gladly should we 
 avail ourselves of all that may tend to excite in 
 us, if it be only a transient elevation ; gladly 
 should we foster the enthusiasm wdiich lights up 
 holy desires, and cherish the ethereal flame 
 which seeks the atmosphere of a purer sky. 
 We may not question that to experience, or 
 even understand such feelings, refinement and 
 elevation of taste are essential. All intellectual 
 pleasure is, to a certain degree, exclusive; it 
 has little atti'actions for inferior minds. And 
 all those delicate susceptibilities which are the 
 organs of pleasure, and it may be occasionally 
 of pain, to persons who have cherished and im- 
 proved them, are as an unknow^n sense to those 
 who have never called them forth. 
 
 Should we not then deem it incumbent on us 
 to impart and improve a capacity, which is a 
 channel of conveying, not merely agreeable, but 
 sublime impressions ? And ought we to shut out 
 
ACCOMPLI SHMENT. 
 
 23 
 
 from young people what may be a means of 
 even their moral improvement ? It may be said, 
 that the latter is not the constant effect of the 
 culture of the fine arts ; yet, will it not be found 
 that, in cases where a contrary result has ap- 
 peared to be its consequence, this is attributa- 
 ble not to the pursuit itself, but to adventitious 
 circumstances attendant on it ? 
 
 Nothing conveys a more unfavourable im- 
 pression than harshness in one who ought to be 
 of softer mould. The woman who can indulge 
 in an unkind expression, or an ungentle word, 
 — who, under apology of bluntness or colour of 
 honesty, will wantonly wound the sensitive or 
 self-distrustful, — who, at the expense of another’s 
 pain, will indulge her own captiousness and 
 caprice, may claim mei'it for her plain speaking, 
 hut affords an unamiable specimen of the sin- 
 cerity on which she prides herself. Anxious 
 therefore should we be to communicate, in early 
 life, true delicacy of sentiment; to encourage 
 susceptibilities which are not selfish; to smooth 
 the roughness which may disfigure even sterling 
 worth; and to communicate that polish which 
 c 4 
 
24 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 brings out intrinsic excellence, and renders it 
 available. 
 
 It is with this view that it is desirable to cul- 
 tivate the poetry of the arts. Like other poetry 
 it moves to sensibility — it warms the nobler 
 spark within us. Let it not be said that the 
 feelings thus excited are fictitious. All im- 
 pulses which reach the heart through the me- 
 dium of the imagination do not, it may be 
 allowed, produce very permanent impx’essions; 
 nevertheless they influence the character in 
 proportion to their frequency and intensity, 
 and are deserving of encouragement, or call for 
 repression, according to the effect wlfich they 
 produce. 
 
 We are all aware that the sentiment produced 
 by the various developments of that faculty 
 which feels the sublime or beautiful, is very 
 mud) the same, however different may be the 
 taste or talent called into immediate exercise. 
 The poet, the painter, the sculptor, the musi- 
 cian, are subjects of a kindred influence, and 
 are congenial in proportion to the tone and 
 quality of their genius. And, though excel- 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 25 
 
 lence in one art, by no means involves, or even 
 predisposes to, proficiency in another; yet the 
 impressions exerted by each are of a very simi- 
 lar character, and call forth a similar state of 
 mental action. And thus we may understand 
 the connexion that subsists between the imita- 
 tive arts. Milton, Raphael, Handel, expatiated 
 in a common sphere, and partook of the same 
 sympathies.* And of a great but mystic genius 
 of our own day, the poet of Christobel and the 
 Albatross, we have heard that, whilst the bril- 
 liant melodies, and ingenious combinations of 
 an elegant modern composer spoke not to his 
 unpractised ear, but seemed to him as “ non- 
 sense verses,” the wild pathos of Beethoven 
 struck within him a respondent chord; and he 
 felt the power, even though he could not under- 
 stand the science, of the gifted master. 
 
 This identity of feeling may exist, what- 
 ever be the degree of talent. Whether our 
 genius is of such rare elevation as itself to 
 embody its own conceptions, or whether we 
 have only the faculty to sympathise with what 
 
 * Vide the article on Coleridge’s poetry in Quarterly Re- 
 view. 
 
26 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 is beautiful in idea or art, we are equally 
 moved, though in a different measure, by the 
 same influence, •— we understand the same lan- 
 guage, — we are capable of the same sentiment. 
 And the consciousness of this is elevatinsr. 
 
 “ Ed io auche son pittore.” * A painter indeed I 
 may not be, — a musician I may not be, — a poet 
 I may not be ; but if I am a lover of art, — if 
 I but respond to its appeal, — if but a drop of 
 the ethereal ichor circulate within me, I feel , 
 that I have something in common with the 
 high line of genius, — that I am united to the 
 intellectual and the spiritual, — that I possess an 
 independence of mind and a superiority of 
 taste, of which neither debasing cares, nor 
 sordid interest, nor the absence of sympathy in 
 others can despoil me. 
 
 There is little danger of the poetic sentiment 
 being carried to excess. In superior minds we 
 may believe that good sense, and, above all, 
 principle, will keep within limits the enthusiasm 
 of talent ; and we cannot but think that to 
 awaken tastes which unite us with intellect and 
 
 * Corregio. 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 27 
 
 genius, and detach us from sense and selfish inte- 
 rests, is a desirable end in education, and will 
 conduce to the improvement of the moral tone. 
 
 Undoubtedly, it is the few alone who possess 
 the creative energy of genius ; it is the few alone 
 who “ feel the power within them burn.” 
 There is a faculty, — a gift innate and arbitrary, 
 — an influence almost independent of the will, 
 that masters those who are its subjects, and 
 calls up to their exalted and fervid imaginations 
 forms that breathe, and thoughts that burn. The 
 power that to the entranced mind of the painter 
 presents that divine shape which ordinary ima- 
 gination dares not to conceive, and so embodies 
 the sublime idea that he traces its lineaments 
 as if it were an object present to his sense, — 
 the power that to the sculptor moulds the 
 images of symmetry and grace, and causes 
 the “ bright work to grow beneath his hand 
 and “ his thought, heart, soul, to burn, to 
 shine, ” 
 
 ‘‘ Thro’ the pale marble’s veins 
 
 the power that to the ear of the dying master f 
 
 Henians. 
 
 f Mozart. 
 
•28 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 awoke a strain of glowing harmony, so that he 
 chanted forth his own sad requiem — that 
 power is one that listens not to the call and 
 bends not to the control of human endeavour, 
 but is an exclusive and individual property, the 
 consciousness of possessing which is itself stimu- 
 lating and transporting. 
 
 “ Yet once again 
 
 I greet it proudly, with its rushing train 
 Of glorious images ; they throng — they press — 
 
 A sudden joy lights up my loneliness.”* 
 
 Where such a power indicates its presence, it 
 is impatient of restraint; it challenges the 
 culture necessaiy for its development, and often, 
 by its spontaneous effort, seeks and obtains for 
 itself those means of improvement wliich may 
 be by others kept back or reluctantly accorded. 
 It is not to the rare possessors of these unu- 
 sual gifts that common rules apply ; and it is 
 not, of course, with reference to such instances 
 that these remarks are made. The culture which 
 individual talent may authorise can be deter- 
 mined only by the special indication of its 
 
 * Hemans. 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 29 
 
 nature and degree, and is a question quite dis- 
 tinct from the encouragement of accomplishment 
 as an ordinary pursuit. But there are few, 
 especially among women, who are not capable of 
 the feeling which art excites; and it is upon 
 this ffround that the argument in its favour 
 rests. It is because accomplishment is a means 
 of eliciting generous sentiment, — of ghdng 
 expansion and delicacy to our tastes, — of pro- 
 ducing, in short, the same end as the study of 
 polite literature, or other gracefid and classic 
 exercises, — that its cultivation is desirable ; and 
 if these objects are not advanced by our pur- 
 suit of it, its best recommendation is lost sight 
 of, and we fail in attaining the only important 
 benefit which it is calculated to produce. 
 
 Considering accomplishments in this light, 
 we may understand how ineffectual and pro- 
 fitless is a merely mechanical practice of 
 them. In music, the power of playing a few 
 pieces, or even the attainment of the most 
 accurate and brilliant execution, by no means 
 involves any sympathy in the spirit of the art. 
 There is a style of performance, as well as of 
 composition, which seems to be without mind ; 
 
30 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 which indicates an acquaintance with an in- 
 strument, but nothing more. The study of 
 the theory of the art will doubtless more effec- 
 tually convey its sentiment as it necessarily 
 brings us acquainted with the works of the 
 best masters, and teaches us to understand 
 their chief merits. We can scarcely analj’se 
 the masterly studies of Beethoven, — the rich 
 though startling combinations of Weber ; or, to 
 refer to an earlier date, follow the liquid suc- 
 cessions of Corelli, or the majestic harmonies of 
 Pergolesi and of Graun, and not feel the magic 
 of their notes, and respond to the chord which 
 they have power to awaken. The mere leger- 
 demain of a rapid movement, the saltatory 
 agility, which some of our fashionable masters 
 delight to require at our hands, and which, 
 however gracefully achieved, often mar the sub- 
 ject they seem to embellish, — the manual dex- 
 terity which is now essential to a finished per- 
 former, may be realized, without our being in 
 any degree alive to the pathos of music. But 
 it is scarcely possible to enter the higher walks 
 of the art, — to be initiated into the laws of 
 counterpoint, — to glance into that science of 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 31 
 
 harmony which discloses such unknown sympa- 
 thies, and surprises us with unisons and chords 
 which are among the mystic secrets of nature, 
 and not be aroused to the feeling, which itself 
 is the echo of an accordant note within us, and 
 the answer of the immaterial spirit to the ex- 
 ternal appeal. 
 
 It might be also urged that the arts, studied 
 as science, are an intellectual exercise, re- 
 quiring a close application, and no ordinary de- 
 gree of clearness of mind. Many of our fair 
 proficients in the practice of music and painting 
 have little idea that their theories involve the 
 higher branches of mathematical science. With- 
 out however pursuing them so far, an acquaint- 
 ance with even the elements of either, requires 
 an attention which is greater than is demanded 
 by the generality of female studies, and which 
 effectually redeems them from being regarded 
 in the light of frivolous pursuits; and those 
 who are disposed thus to render themselves pro- 
 ficients in either accomplishment, will enjoy the 
 conscious satisfaction with which a thorough 
 mastery of what we learn rewards us. They 
 will also be more susceptible of the highest en- 
 
32 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 joyment of the art, and will be so much the 
 less likely to use their talent as a matter of dis- 
 play; since those who are conscious of real attain- 
 ment are always less anxious for the applause 
 of others, than the showy and the superficial. 
 
 Accomplishments are not to be estimated 
 merely as solitary pursuits : they have their social 
 and domestic value ; and their claims in this 
 respect can scarcely be disallowed. They often 
 form a ground of sympathy between persons 
 casually thrown together, who have otherwise 
 little that is congenial; and they furnish topics 
 of conversation, or sources of mutual entertain- 
 ment, when, without them, conversation might 
 be commonplace, and society dull. 
 
 There are occasions when none of us may be 
 sorry to avail ourselves of such a resource. It 
 may happen, that we are thrown amongst those 
 with whom we are not at all united in heart, 
 and this in circumstances when the introduction 
 of more interesting matters might be inappro- 
 priate. In such cases, do not the fine arts 
 afford a subject which we may pleasantly dis- 
 cuss ? and do they not thus often throw down a 
 barrier of reserve, and even pave the way for an 
 
ACCCUMPLISHMENT. 
 
 33 
 
 influence which it may be most important to 
 establish ? They are, at least, a topic superior 
 to the gossip, the fashions, or the climate of the 
 day : they call forth intellect and taste ; they lead 
 us at once on classic ground ; and they may be 
 the means of our learning much that is in- 
 ^ structive from others, to whom we, in our 
 turn, may impart what is still more valuable. 
 It has been remarked that there is no talent 
 which a Christian may possess which may not 
 be improved to the best end; and there is 
 no degree of it which Christian graces may 
 not adorn. It is, indeed, the Christian spirit 
 which renders amiable every development of 
 genius, which teaches us to use it as a means 
 of promoting affection and good-will, and which 
 disposes us to avail ourselves of all that we have, 
 to promote the happiness of others. 
 
 The cultivation of whatever may render the 
 domestic circle more attractive is peculiarly 
 deserving; the attention of women. The agree- 
 ableness of a family party in great measure de- 
 pends on the young female members of it. If, in 
 them, there are the disposition to oblige, and the 
 
 VOL. II. D 
 
34 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 power to gratify and entertain, home will afford 
 attractions to which few will be insensible. An 
 evening, enlivened by intellectual or elegant pur- 
 suits, leaves a pleasant impression, and disposes 
 us to seek its frequent recurrence. And talent 
 thus employed, for purposes of social and do- 
 mestic kindness, — to gratify a parent, to refresh 
 a husband after a day’s anxiety or toil, or 
 to amuse a brother, and keep him within the 
 precincts of his own home, — is often found a 
 valuable auxiliary to other more important 
 means of influence. 
 
 It is peculiarly incumbent on those who are 
 thus endowed with powers of entertainment to 
 avail themselves of them for purposes of kind- 
 ness. The readiness to oblige, on occasions 
 where display cannot be the motive, is a test of 
 real amiability ; and should be the invariable 
 result of Christian principle. It is painful to 
 observe any deficiency in this exercise of genuine 
 courtesy. A little effort made to please an- 
 other, — be it only in the way of gratifymg taste, 
 or of enlivening a tedious hour, — is as much an 
 act of benevolence, and may flow from as high 
 and disinterested a feeling, as many more im- 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 35 
 
 portant labours of philanthropy. On the con- 
 trary, the absence of slight attentions is but 
 poorly compensated by occasional exertions of 
 superior moment, however great the sacrifice 
 they may require. 
 
 The contrast, not unfrequently presented by 
 different family circles, where the degree of 
 talent possessed by their several members is 
 pretty nearly equal, is striking and instruc- 
 tive. In some, the attainments of each are 
 brought into a common treasury, and are 
 made available for the benefit and pleasure 
 of all. In others, every thing is regarded 
 as an exclusive property, or a solitary enjoy- 
 ment; and individuality is so much the ruling 
 principle, that any attempt at mutual participa- 
 tion is but coldly welcomed. And the results 
 are equally different. In the one case are found 
 cheerfulness, urbanity, family love, — happy 
 evenings, domestic habits, and a relish for sober 
 and intellectual pleasures. In the other, a want 
 of sympathy, an unconcern for others, — ennui. 
 One retires to her room, another sleeps in a 
 corner, a third seeks abroad a relief from the 
 dulness of home. If the fair musician, whose 
 D 2 
 
36 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 practice, perliaps, has often disturbed her bro- 
 tlier’s morning studies, — wl)ose reiterated ca- 
 dences may have rung in his ears, and tried his 
 temper, — would, in the evening, recollect that 
 she had a voice, she might possibly make some 
 amends for ideas she may have chased away, 
 and trains of thought she may have interrupted. 
 But, in the evening, she is tired or hoarse, — 
 and, in short, it is far from her thoughts to 
 bestow the fruit of her industry on those with 
 whom she daily associates. She reseiA'es it for 
 the stranger, whose claim upon her attention is, 
 of course, in proportion to the recentness of 
 their acquaintance. 
 
 Yet, if thei’e are occasions w'hen accomplish- 
 ment is unquestionably available to a good 
 purpose, it is, as has been said, when it is em- 
 ployed to promote domestic union and love ; 
 when it renders the different members of a 
 family so agreeable, and almost so necessaiy 
 to each other, as to cement the natural bond 
 that knits them together. We would repeat 
 that this, as an end, cannot too sedulously be 
 inculcated, — that, w’hilst talent is cultivated, 
 the obligation should be pressed on young 
 
ACCOBIPLISHMENT. 
 
 37 
 
 people, that those, who are the most near to them, 
 are entitled to all the gratification which their 
 attainments can bestow. Let there never be 
 any refusal of their best to their best friends. 
 Let not the father come out from his study, and 
 ask or wish for half an hour’s solace, — for the 
 overture which he loved in the days of his youth, 
 or the song which recalls to him Mara’s tones, 
 and retire ungratified. Let him not have to 
 reclose his door, and enti’ench himself again 
 in his solitary chamber, mortified perhaps by 
 an impatient look, or reading in a reluctant 
 expression, that his solicitation was not wel- 
 come. 
 
 It may possibly require a little self-denial to 
 ensure always a cheerful contribution to the 
 social entertainment, to dispose us to forsake a 
 book, or a piece of embroidery, or a luxurious 
 corner by the fire-side, and make the little effort 
 that maybe wished. Yet how important is it to 
 make such slight sacrifices of personal ease, and 
 to cherish the kindliness, without which the most 
 intense affection is apt to decline. 
 
 There are cases where the power of con- 
 tributing to domestic enjoyment may lead 
 D 3 
 
38 
 
 ACCOMPLI SH3IENT. 
 
 to very important benefits. A desire to 
 oblige, delicately manifested, wins upon the 
 heart, and calls forth sentiments of tenderness. 
 And in those most difficult and tiying circum- 
 stances, where a young person may stand alone 
 in her family, in her estimate of the importance 
 of religion — where she alone has been led to 
 know the vanity of earthly pleasures, and to 
 shun the sins and follies of the world — where 
 she has been the first and most highly favoured, 
 and has preceded parents and brothers and 
 sisters in the path of piety — what course is so 
 likely to conciliate and to persuade, as that of 
 prompt and unremitting attention? May not 
 the youngest member of a family thus attain an 
 influence by being always ready to take her 
 part in giving pleasure to those at home? — 
 may she not become most dear to a parent, — 
 may she not sweetly exemplify the fruits of her 
 superior principles, by showing a greater alacrity 
 to impart pleasure than others who are not 
 thus actuated? There is no more delightful 
 exliibition of duty than that of a young person 
 so circumstanced, who, far from assuming a 
 forbidding deportment, and exciting a pre- 
 judice against her religion, is only the more 
 
ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 39 
 
 anxious to amuse and please, and thus draw those, 
 with whom she is the most closely connected, 
 by the cords of a grateful affection. And is it 
 not far better that she should cultivate an art, 
 which perhaps may be a frequent solace to some 
 beloved relative, — that she should “ take up her 
 harp,” like David, and “play with her hand,” 
 and thus possibly administer a soothing balm to 
 a mind depressed, — that she should entwine her- 
 self round the affections of her own family by her 
 cheerful devotion of talent to their gratification, 
 — than that she should shroud herself in a 
 mantle of reserve, and, by exclusiveness or indif- 
 ference, convey the unpleasing impression, that 
 her natural and kindly affections are nipped 
 and withered ? 
 
 It may be, that in her days of vanity, she 
 would not have been careful to contribute to the 
 enlivenment of her home, — that she would 
 have thought it dull to sing or play to a near 
 relative, or an old friend, — ■ but let her noio 
 show that love, Christian love, is a stronger 
 stimulus than any inferior motive, and that 
 the minutiae of duty are regulated by the same 
 abiding sentiment, the same fervid and glowing 
 
 D 4 
 
40 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
 
 influence, that prescribes the sacrifice of self in 
 greater matters. Talent and accomplishment 
 may doubtless thus be sanctified to high and 
 holy purposes : they may thus be made the 
 means of attracting to what is good, and of 
 opposing a countei’-influence to the seductions 
 of the world. The swelling notes of Handel’s 
 sublime airs, the simple melody of a familiar 
 psalm or hymn, never speak more affectingly to 
 the heart, than when sustained by the voice of the 
 young female Christian, — when poured forth, not 
 merely with the power of the gifted songstress, 
 and the skill of the well-taught musician, but with 
 the feeling and piety of the genuine believer. It 
 is then that we may taste the harmony of the 
 songs of Zion; it is then, as we listen to the 
 strains of the performer, that we may think 
 how sweetly will she sing in her own land ; it 
 is then that our imagination may embody the 
 vision of the golden harps, and bright company 
 of the New Jerusalem ; and that we may read 
 in the glowing features of the saint on earth, a 
 foretaste of her future bliss, when she shall 
 “ know that her Redeemer liveth, and in her 
 flesh shall see her God.” 
 
41 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 In our estimate of the tempers of others, we are 
 all apt to allow too little for natural and consti- 
 tutional diversity. This diversity may not, of 
 course, be admitted as an apology for defects 
 in temper ; but it may, and must often account 
 for them, and explain why, when there is an 
 equal application of a counteracting principle, 
 the effect is in one case less satisfactory than in 
 another. 
 
 All value should undoubtedly be attached to 
 excellence of temper : — nevertheless, temper, 
 more than any other quality, is the result of 
 original endowment. Not that this detracts from 
 its worth : it is an inestimable gift; and the im- 
 provement of it, at least, is the effect of early 
 discipline, and of infused principle. But some 
 indulgence should be granted to those who are 
 not naturally favoured ; to those too, who, to the 
 injudicious treatment of their infant years, may 
 
42 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 ascribe a defect which -seems interwoven with 
 their very constitution. Whilst we admire and 
 prize the placid amiability of a kind and even 
 disposition, — whilst we are especially alive to its 
 beauty, when it is grafted on a Christian stock, 
 and rooted on the secure foundation of religious 
 motives, — we should remember that the ob- 
 stacles to the attainment of this serene and 
 happy temperament are, in some cases, so much 
 greater than in others, that an incorrect estimate 
 of the force of the regulating principle might be 
 formed, were we to judge of it merely by its 
 results in this respect. There are individuals 
 of so calm and equable a nature, that anger 
 seems to them almost a strange passion ; they 
 feel, as it were intuitively, that it is not worth 
 their while to be distui’bed; and though they 
 may lose some of tbeir gentleness by colhsion 
 with others, yet, when once brought under the 
 influence of the Gospel, the effort to subdue 
 irritation, and to restrain any unruly impulse, 
 is comparative^ slight, and can be made with 
 so good a grace, that the movement to dis- 
 pleasure is scarcely perceptible. 
 
 Such persons may not be aware bow much 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 43 
 
 they are indebted to natural disposition, and 
 are apt to expect from others, especially from 
 such as acknowledge the constraining sway of 
 evangelical motives, the same freedom from 
 irritation which they themselves display. And 
 they judge sometimes with harshness, where 
 this equanimity is not exhibited ; they yield 
 but small indulgence to occasional outbreak- 
 ings, — and, because they do not experience the 
 temptation, do not allow for its power. They 
 forget, too, that although the fault is evident, 
 the contrition for it is not always so ; and that, 
 whilst they witness the weakness of an unguarded 
 moment, they are not privy to the self-abase- 
 ment and sorrow which a recollection of it 
 calls forth. Defects in temper are more glaring 
 than most others; in their nature they admit 
 not of concealment; and whilst ambition, 
 worldliness of spirit, love of pleasm’e, and in- 
 dwelling corruptions of even a deeper die, may 
 be shut up in the breast, and not incur detection, 
 the subjects of irritability can throw no veil 
 over their failings ; the moment of trial and of 
 fall are simultaneous; and the looker-on views 
 
44 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 the fault in its prominence, and is not disposed 
 to favour the offender. 
 
 For we are all apt to estimate both the good 
 and evil qualities of others as they affect our- 
 selves, and an undisciplined temper interferes 
 too much with the comfort of those who come 
 in contact with it, to meet with indulgence from 
 them. A thousand follies are excused, and faults 
 palliated, if they are not thus obnoxious. Such 
 a one injures no one but himself — is thewoi'ldly 
 apology for irregularity; and if this form of 
 expression obtains only amongst such as are 
 influenced by merely secular principle, still the 
 excuse is virtually recognised by many who 
 profess a higher standard. They have little 
 toleration for what is perpetually marring their 
 own tranquillity, whilst they forget inconsis- 
 tencies w'hich are kept out of sight, or at least 
 give to the latter the benefit of their Christian 
 forbearance. The equity and expediency of 
 such a procedure may well be questioned, but 
 it is only natural. Whatever we may do in our 
 closets, we do not, amid the active affairs of hfe, 
 stop to analyze either the causes or the com- 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 45 
 
 parative demerit of the failings of those around 
 us; but pronounce on them a summary verdict, 
 according to the immediate impression of them 
 which we receive. 
 
 The fact of the constitutional diversity in 
 temper can scarcely be denied by any who are 
 at all accustomed to study character. We see 
 it exemplified in childhood ; and, indeed, it is 
 nowhere so visible as in the early development 
 of disposition. It is when reason and principle 
 first begin to operate, and to discipline the 
 unruly ebullition, that the force and nature of 
 the latter are most evident, and that we can the 
 most easily perceive in what manner, and to 
 what extent, it exei’cises its influence. 
 
 There are certain results which experience 
 warrants us to expect, and which we therefore 
 naturally look for, without inquiring as to their 
 cause, or the means by which they are effected. 
 The curious investigator of the material world 
 is not, however, satisfied with this matter-of-fact 
 experience, but labours to ascertain general prin- 
 ciples, and to trace to these the effects which daily 
 occurrence renders familiar. And, in the same 
 way, those who are interested in the scrutiny of 
 
46 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 intellectual or moral phenomena, are glad to 
 establish and define certain rules, in accordance 
 with the wisdom and equity which mark the 
 genera] economy, and to refer to them results, 
 which ordinary observers admit, without caring 
 to account for. 
 
 The pi’inciple of compensation is one of those 
 striking features which mark the arrangements 
 of Pi’ovidence, in all their several departments. 
 It is the consequence of a fault, — a fault, for 
 the prevalence of which, revelation only teaches 
 us to account; but the adjustment of the 
 balance argues the discrimination and goodness 
 of the apportioning hand. Admitting the opera- 
 tion of this principle, we may be the less reluctant 
 to allow a natural diversity in tempei'. We shall 
 expect, indeed, to find a defect in this or in any 
 other particular, counterbalanced by some better 
 quality ; but we shall not refuse to ascribe 
 irritability, where it exists, in some measure at 
 least, to peculiar and original disposition. 
 
 And we shall generally find the balance 
 fairly kept. If, in respect to mental endow- 
 ments, the presence of one gift is generally so 
 set off against the absence of another, that the 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 47 
 
 average is nearly equal, — with regard to moral 
 qualities the proportion is even more nicely 
 preserved. 
 
 The more thoroughly we investigate cha- 
 racter, and study its various developments, 
 the better shall we be satisfied that this 
 is the case. In temper, it is those who are 
 the most alive to kind and generous feeling 
 who are peculiarly liable to irritability. The 
 cold-hearted are calm and unexcitable, and 
 the impressions they receive are so much less 
 lively, that they remain unmoved by circum- 
 stances which kindle a flame in the enthu- 
 siastic. The very faults of temper seem 
 sometimes almost the consequence of qualities 
 which, in themselves, excite our interest. The 
 sensibility which we love, is, from its nature, 
 easily wounded ; and the frankness which wins 
 our affection exposes the susceptiblity of the 
 excitable breast, and brmgs to view those secret 
 movements to displeasure which the reserved 
 are enabled to conceal. 
 
 It is therefore of the first importance in the 
 discipline of temper to trace its faults to their 
 source. This must be theq)rimary step, and it 
 
48 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 .is one which requires accurate and tender care. 
 We observe in a family of children, that all are, 
 in a greater or less degree, liable to irritation : 
 all display, under their little trials, impatience 
 or anger ; and therefore all demand repi'oof 
 and correction. But these should be variously 
 administered. 
 
 A greater error, indeed, cannot be committed, 
 than to subject different dispositions to iden- 
 tically tbe same treatment, especially if the 
 system be one of coercion. Sensitiveness, it has 
 been remai'ked, luay be the cause of irritability. 
 Tins, though it ought not to excuse the fault, 
 points out the sort of discipline it demands. 
 
 In such a case, a harsh unsympathising 
 correction may be productive even of greater 
 mischief than over indulgence. The suspicion 
 of unkindness is the exciting cause of the irrita- 
 bility we lament ; and this may be so aggravated 
 by a stern method of administering punishment, 
 that the disposition may become soured, and the 
 individual acutely fearful of being the subject 
 of general disesteem. Nothing is more fatal to 
 temper than its being pronounced a bad temper. 
 The imputation wounds the spirit, and renders 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 49 
 
 the disposition really deserving of the character 
 ascribed to it. 
 
 Yet this injury is sometimes inflicted in very 
 early *life, and a store of future unhappiness is 
 thus laid up for the child of feeling. The 
 cloud gathers on the brow ; the murmur of 
 discontent’ escapes the lips: and the impatient 
 and angry reproof which these elicit, whilst they 
 curb the more violent expression of feeling, in- 
 crease the smouldering emotion within. There 
 is no brightening up of the countenance, no 
 melting of the heart: the young delinquent 
 nurses the internal resentment, even though it 
 may be outwardly repressed, and contracts a 
 jealous irritability which is ever on the look out 
 for occasions of offence. 
 
 To the faults of temper, of whatever kind or 
 degree, there is no antidote so effectual as that 
 which the Gospel furnishes ; and it is from 
 the non-application of this, practically and 
 habitually, at an early age, that many of the 
 unhappy results in after life, which we have so 
 much reason to deplore, arise. The Gospel 
 addresses itself to the affections, and it is here 
 that the sensitive need soothing. The Gospel 
 
 VOL. II. E 
 
50 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 wins on the heart, tranquillises and refreshes it, 
 by convincing it of the love of an Almighty 
 Friend : this is at once the balm of a wounded 
 spirit, and the anodyne that soothes its irrita- 
 tion. 
 
 Why then, it may be asked, is this remedy 
 not always effectual ? — Why do we find that 
 Chi'istians are by no means exempt from ordi- 
 nary faults of temper, and especially from those 
 which are the consequence of an overuTought 
 sensibility ? 
 
 Besides the propensity of nature, which is the 
 general impediment to the full operation of the 
 principle of grace, a particular hinderance may 
 arise from the late7iess of the period at which the 
 correction is administered. The morbid habit has 
 become so inveterate, that its subjugation is oneof 
 the hardest tasks for Divine grace to accomplish ; 
 and those, who have contracted it, are themselves 
 scarcely conscious either of the root or extent 
 of the evil. They are perhaps even disposed to 
 excuse and palliate their fault, because they 
 ascribe it to the tenderness or intensity of their 
 feelings. 
 
 There can, therefore, be no period, after the 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 51 
 
 mind has opened to the dawn of reason, too early 
 for Christian principle to be brought to bear 
 upon temper. The address which the Gospel 
 makes in this particular is so simple, that even 
 the infantile heart is susceptible of it. Make the 
 child happy in the consciousness of being the ob- 
 ject of the Almighty regard, — and you lay the 
 foundation for calm and cheerful equanimity. 
 Check the rising of passion by a reference to the 
 evangelical motive for forbearance, — and you 
 accustom the young mind to reason with itself at 
 the immediate moment of trial, and to arrest the 
 impulse to anger by the power of a still stronger 
 feeling. ' 
 
 The observers of childhood will have noticed 
 that, whilst indulgence nurses and foments irri- 
 tability, and sternness restrains without subdu- 
 ing it, a mild representation of the guilt and 
 folly of yielding to ill-temper will prove the 
 most effectual shield against the temptation ; 
 And if it fails at the moment of excitement, and 
 the exertion of authority is essential to repress 
 the sudden ebullition, a subsequent appeal 
 to the heart and reason, founded upon Chris- 
 tian motives, at once soothes the asperity, and 
 E 2 
 
52 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 will be remembered on future occasions of 
 similar trial. 
 
 Not, but that frequent disappointments may 
 occur, and must not be allowed to discourage. 
 The hope of the teacher must bear up against 
 many failures, and firmness and perseverance 
 must characterize the system. But when the 
 tone of discipline is undeviatingly kind, equable, 
 and Christian, — when example corresponds with 
 precept, — and the child sees, and itself expe- 
 riences the beauty of consistent temper, — the 
 result is usually no insufficient recompense. 
 At any rate, the temptation, wh’en it occurs, 
 will not be yielded to without a struggle ; and 
 self-control, in after life, will be no new lesson. 
 
 The peculiar importance of the due regu- 
 lation of temper to women wall be readily 
 admitted. Dependent as they are, equanimity 
 and forbearance are essential even to their 
 happiness; and most unwise is it in them to 
 nurse an irritability, which must be self-tor- 
 menting. Ch'cumstances are, of course, less 
 under their control than of the other sex ; 
 and, unless they can acquiesce in an oc- 
 casional thwarting of their own wishes, they 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 53 
 
 will experience discomfort in every relation of 
 life. 
 
 An overwrought sensibility may prove a pro- 
 lific source of misery to woman. The suspicion 
 of unkindness or of indifference in others is 
 like a wound, — perpetually exasperating itself; 
 and the peevishness and discontent which it 
 engenders, are the most likely means of ex- 
 citing the very disesteem of which it complains. 
 Nothing is more teasing to the objects of 
 regard than this sort of temper. It is perpe- 
 tually harassing them with imaginary jealousies, 
 — brooding over them with suspicion, — exer- 
 cising upon them a surveillance, which can 
 scarcely fail to weary, and in time destroy the 
 sincerest affection. And although it may be 
 glossed over as an amiable weakness, or claim 
 to be excused as excess of feeling, self-esteem 
 and self-love are in fact its source. 
 
 The subject of such a temper is disquieted, 
 because she supposes the conduct of others to 
 have always reference to herself. Do those around 
 her, — does her husband or her friend look grave ? 
 she has not, as she once had, the power to make 
 E 3 
 
54 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 them happy. Does any one whom she loves 
 meet her with a cloud upon the brow ? — she 
 is herself the cause — she is not esteemed or 
 welcomed as heretofore. Is censure cast upon 
 a fault ? — the reproof was meant for her. Is 
 vexation expressed? — she is, herself, the soiu'ce 
 of the annoyance, or the subject of displeasure. 
 
 It would perhaps be but a slight relief to 
 such a person to undeceive her, — to convince 
 her that, to a head-ache, or to some cause un- 
 connected with herself, must be ascribed the 
 disquietude for which she has taken credit ; or 
 that she was not pointed at in animadversions 
 which she had appropriated; in short, to con- 
 vince her that she is not quite so much in the 
 thoimhts as she had imagined. For then she 
 would immediately complain that she was an 
 object of neglect, and would be more apt to 
 take offence at this suspicion, than at anj" other 
 chimera of her self-afflicting fancy. 
 
 Where any symptom of such a disposition 
 appears in childhood, a j udicious and affection- 
 ate treatment may do much towards its remedy; 
 but it requires a nice and steady hand. The 
 discipline of a nursery or a school is sometimes 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 55 
 
 peculiarly unsuitable ; and it is those only who 
 understand, and who have time and discrimina- 
 tion to mark the workings of the heart, and the 
 manner in which it is affected by external cir- 
 cumstances, who are qualified to execute so diffi- 
 cult a task. 
 
 Dissatisfaction, arising from some cause or 
 other, is the ordinary source of irritable tem- 
 per. The want of content within frets the 
 spirit, and is outw’ardly expressed by peevish- 
 ness and ill-humour. To allay unhappiness, 
 and substitute internal cheerfulness, is therefore 
 the only radical cure. 
 
 There are some who, in childhood, are pain- 
 fully distrustful of their own capabilities, who 
 labour under the distressing conviction that they 
 are inferior to those around them ; or, at any 
 rate, who imagine that they are so reputed: 
 and this impression serves not merely as a check 
 to their intellectual improvement, but embitters 
 their happiness, and consequently sours their 
 disposition. In such cases, to encourage by the 
 exhibition of kindness, to excite by motives of 
 duty, to infuse a principle of hope, will be the 
 wisest treatment; for it will effect an improve- 
 E 4 
 
65 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 ment in temper, by inducing virtuous and suc- 
 cessful efforts, and thus relieve the mind from 
 the subject of its appi’ehension. 
 
 But perhaps the most painful exhibitions of 
 temper are those which proceed from jealousy ; 
 and when this passion finds place amongst 
 women, it assumes sometimes so mean a form, 
 and is exercised about such trivial matters, that 
 it renders the subject of it contemptible, as 
 well as unamiable. 
 
 The objects of worldly ambition, amongst 
 women, are ordinarily of an unimportant natm'e, 
 and the conviction which we have of their want 
 of value, makes us blush for those who 
 display any eagerness in competition for them. 
 Nevertheless, the ill-humour, which, in spite of 
 social restraint, may be observed in individual 
 conduct, ai’ises not unfrequently from a sentiment 
 of en\y, which some petty distinction in another 
 has called forth. 
 
 The desire for admiration is occasional!}' so 
 strong a passion, that a rival cannot be regarded 
 with complacency : and perhaps it must be 
 allow'ed that a woman, pre-eminent in any way, 
 is not a favourite with the generality of her own 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 57 
 
 sex. Some, at least, there will be who appear not 
 unwilling to detract from her superiority, to dis- 
 cover a blemish, to lay hold of a weak point, 
 which may reduce her to the ordinary level. 
 Beauty possibly excites less of this unamiable 
 feeling than any other endowment. It is so un- 
 questionably a gift, that there can be no self- 
 reproach for not possessing it. But mental 
 superiority, accomplishment, conversational ta- 
 lent, even goodness, are apt to be looked upon 
 with a deteriorating eye, and to call forth a sen- 
 timent, which is not one of cordial kindness. 
 
 Of all propensities, a habit of jealousy should 
 be the most carefully corrected in early life; 
 for most unamiable is its exhibition in ma- 
 turer years. The superiority of another, in- 
 stead of stimulating to exertion, only creates an 
 anxiety to undervalue the excellence which can- 
 not be denied. This disposition shows itself, 
 not by attack, but by a more insidious, though 
 not less intelligible mode. Even in bestowing 
 commendation, there may be an expression — 
 a tone of voice — a look — or perhaps an ex- 
 aggeration in praise, which, whilst it seems the 
 
58 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 farthest possibly from envy, is, in fact, only a 
 demonstration of it. It is a panegyric which 
 depreciates what it professes to exalt. 
 
 In such instances, the feeling which originates 
 this conduct may not unfrequently be detected 
 by others, more readily than by the person who 
 experiences it; and it cannot but convey an 
 impression much to the disfavour of the subject 
 of it. We soon discern the jealousy which frets 
 at the estimation in which others are held, and 
 is always leading her who is affected by it, to 
 imply her own inferiority from any commenda- 
 tion that is bestowed elsew’here. Such a disposi- 
 tion argues a littleness of mind ; and if it is ever 
 associated with moi’al or intellectual worth, it 
 is one of the worst blemishes which can attach 
 to either. Yet even this may originate in early 
 life, from an anxious desire for approbation, and 
 a despair of obtaining it. A child, whose talents 
 are not so prominent, or so precocious, as those 
 of her nursery associates, — who does not show 
 off so well as her brothers and sisters, — is herself 
 conscious of the difference, and marks, often with 
 an exquisite sensibility, the deficiency of interest 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 59 
 
 which she excites. There may be no system 
 of positive favouritism, no absolute partiality, 
 but there is a want of regard, a passing by ; 
 and the little creature shrinks into her shell of 
 obscurity, depressed and unnoticed. 
 
 The sentiment, naturally engendered in the 
 heart by such neglect, will not be one merely of 
 disappointment, — rather, it is to be feai’ed, it 
 will become jealousy. The poor child looks 
 upon her more successful companions with a 
 jaundiced eye, and is not, thei’efore, henceforth 
 displeased when any little disfavour attaches to 
 them. 
 
 Now, however vigilantly such a disposition 
 should be corrected in early life, yet, even here 
 again, stern reproof will be of no avail. On the 
 contrary, the child needs to be assured of the 
 regard of those around her ; and the fault will 
 more readily yield to a general system of kind- 
 ness and encouragement, than to punishment 
 or censure. 
 
 It has been remarked, that to communicate or 
 to restore happiness is the best antidote to faults 
 of temper ; and it is because real religion in- 
 volves internal peace, that this is so peculiarly 
 
60 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 a corrective to them. It is not merely because 
 Christianity places a restraint upon all evil pas- 
 sions, because the law of kindness is a part of its 
 prescriptive code, — but because it lays the only 
 sure basis for happiness, and, when rightly un- 
 derstood, is the source of never-failing consola- 
 tions, that it allays the unruly movements of an 
 irritable disposition. The assurance that what- 
 ever be the trials of this life, eternal bliss is 
 ours, — the conviction that all human regard, 
 or honour, is of little force in comparison of the 
 Almighty love which is lavished upon us, — the 
 confidence which enables us, with grateful ap- 
 propriation, to claim an interest in the amplest 
 promises of gospel grace, these, — the present 
 inheritance of the believer, — can hardlj' be en- 
 joyed, without their producing a calm wthin 
 the breast, which vexation cannot ruffle. And 
 in tlie proportion that this is not the case, the 
 privileges of the believer are not enjoyed; 
 Christian principle is not inffuential, and ori- 
 ginal corruption has still sway. 
 
 Here then lies the force of the ai’gument for the 
 early correction of temper by such constraining 
 motives. We all feel the stirrings of the root oi 
 
TEMPER, 
 
 61 
 
 bitterness within, — we each have to contend 
 with a peculiar and individual germ of evil : but 
 those who in after life are conscious that their 
 infirmity is that of temper, that it is ever ready 
 to break forth on sudden temptation, and that it 
 occasions them their sorest conflicts, and their 
 most poignant regrets, will bitterly lament that 
 the remedy was not more effectively applied be- 
 fore their character had received its tone, and 
 their heart its most lasting impressions. If the 
 subjects of late conversion find in the recurrence 
 of evil or unbelieving thoughts, in the preva- 
 lence of the long-indulged passion, constant re- 
 membi’ance of the sins of their former years, — 
 those, whose trials are of temper, have equal, if 
 not greater reason to grieve at the ascendency 
 which their unhappy propensity has acquired. 
 They have contracted a habit of irritability, 
 which even their religion can scarcely over- 
 come, and they fall almost unawares into a fault, 
 to which there is perpetual temptation, and 
 which indulgence has rendered inveterate. 
 
 External trials, such as ill-health, bereave- 
 ments, or worldly vexations, may have an un- 
 happy effect upon temper, and either increase 
 
62 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 constitutional irritability, or sour a disposition 
 not previously unamiable. Religion, again, is 
 the only preventive of this evil. The effect of 
 deprivations upon those whose affections are 
 centred on earthly objects, is only to render 
 them unhappy. They fret against the appoint- 
 ment, because it interferes with their pleasure ; 
 and they are the more tenacious of the good 
 things that remain, from the fear lest these too 
 should be taken from them. 
 
 It is, indeed, to be lamented, when such is 
 the effect of dispensations, the intention of 
 which is the very reverse. Christianity draws 
 lessons not merely of patience, but of hope, 
 from earthly losses ; its ground of consolation 
 is strengthened, rather than disturbed, by the 
 “affliction that is but for a moment !” 
 
 At the same time, if internal tranquillity be 
 the secret of good temper, the latter again is 
 influential in producing happiness. There is 
 assuredly no quality which so immediately de- 
 termines the peace of an individual or a family, 
 as temper. If the world does frown, — if cir- 
 cumstances be adverse, — if hopes fail, — a 
 happy tempered person will still bear up ; and 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 63 
 
 the serene front of the Christian will be lifted 
 up as a beacon amid clouds and tempests, and 
 will encourage the drooping spirits of those who 
 have not an equal ground of hope. And in the 
 minor trials of life, — for it is in these that 
 temper is mainly exhibited, — peaceful is thp 
 course of one who has learnt to subdue irrita- 
 tion, who can be the subject of petty annoy- 
 ance without feeling disturbed by it, and who 
 had rather suffer a disappointment, than fret on 
 account of it. 
 
 Those are, in every way, the best calculators, 
 who maintain the greatest equanimity ; for, be- 
 sides that they spare themselves the pain of 
 being vexed, they gain, by their composure, 
 influence and respect, and enjoy the exercise 
 of their judgment at times wTen others, per- 
 haps, have not the advantage of similar self- 
 possession. 
 
 It is not for any one to withdraw the veil of 
 domestic privacy. Temper may be the canker- 
 worm that spoils the peace of many a private 
 hearth. Instead of the kind and cheerful smile, 
 the urbane and courteous deportment, the placid 
 endurance of the ills of life, and the willing 
 
64 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 sacrifice of personal comfort to oblige another, 
 we may witness, alas ! too often, the pettish 
 remark, the sullen look ; and find that the 
 passing occurrences of the hour call forth re- 
 peated exhibitions of fretfulness and impatience. 
 Nevertheless, it becomes not any of the mem- 
 bers of a family to carry the faults of those 
 who are dear to them beyond their own walls, 
 and to expose infirmities, which charity should 
 bear with, and affection forget. If it be the 
 lot of any to be associated with those, who are 
 not blessed with a calm and happy tempera- 
 ment ; and if they have, or think they have, 
 themselves, the advantage in this particular, — 
 let them pi’ove their superiority by their endu- 
 rance of the trial, whatever it may be. Let 
 them forget the words spoken in anger, and 
 treasure up only those which express the per- 
 manent feelings of the heart; and let them 
 never, by a heartless severity, check the relent- 
 ings of the grieved spirit, — nor fail to soothe 
 and encourage, when regret and repentance 
 succeed temporaiy irritation. 
 
 There are some dispositions which take credit 
 for good temper, which do not at all deserve 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 65 
 
 the name. Indifference and want of feeling 
 are not good temper ; and when these are 
 brought into collision with instability, they act 
 as a provocative. Nothing is more trying to 
 persons of acute sensibility, than to see those, 
 whom they think ought to sympathise with 
 them, careless of what frets and grieves them- 
 selves. It may be difficult, in cases of offence, 
 to preserve the medium, to show so much feeling 
 as affords an assurance of interest, and at the 
 same time does not exaspei’ate the provocation. 
 But this is a lesson which affection teaches, and 
 which those who possess a really Christian spirit 
 will take pains to learn. 
 
 No temper can be really amiable which is 
 not the result of a feeling heart. The self- 
 control which merely restrains the expression 
 of anger, does not involve that benevolence of 
 disposition, which is the essential ingredient in 
 good temper. It may be the result of some 
 principle ; but Christian principle requires 
 more. It requh’es sentiments of kindness, and 
 active efforts of good-will. 
 
 Good temper is like a sunny day : it sheds a 
 brightness over every thing. It is the sweet- 
 
 VOL. II. F 
 
66 
 
 TEMPER, 
 
 ener of toil, and the soother of disquietude. 
 Much, indeed, of pain and anxiety must we all 
 suffer in our passage through this world. Everj* 
 day brings its burthen. The husband goes 
 forth in the morning to his professional duties ; 
 he cannot foresee what trial he may encounter, 
 what failure of hopes, of friendships, or of pros- 
 pects may meet him, before he returns to his 
 home ; but, if he can anticipate there, the 
 beaming and hopeful smile, and the soothing 
 attention, he feels that his cross, whatever it 
 may be, will be lightened, and that his do- 
 mestic happiness is still secure. 
 
 It is the interest, therefore, as well as the duty 
 of a woman to cultivate good temper, and to 
 have ever ready some word or look of cheer- 
 fulness, of encouragement, or at least, of sym- 
 pathy. A really feeling heart will dictate the 
 conduct which will be most acceptable, will 
 teach the delicacy which times a kindness, as 
 well as renders it, and forbears all oflBcious 
 attentions, whilst it ever evinces a readiness to 
 oblige. 
 
 Considerateness is also a part of a Christian 
 temper. This implies a carefulness, not to ex- 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 67 
 
 cite irritation, — not to give trouble, — not to 
 occasion pain : it implies an absence of sel- 
 fishness, and a continual solicitude for the good 
 of others. 
 
 Such a temper is displayed in the most mi- 
 nute and seemingly trivial particulars. For 
 those who possess it will not grudge to go out 
 of their path, even to please a child, or to relieve 
 a suffering animal. They are ever on the watch 
 to lessen the sum of woe, or to augment that of 
 happiness ; and they consider not that time lost, 
 which is instrumental in promoting, in however 
 small a degree, either of these ends. 
 
 It need scarcely be said that this temper is of 
 more value than many more brilliant endow- 
 ments, that it is amongst the first recom- 
 mendations to a woman, in every domestic 
 relation ; and that especially in that tie, which, 
 though the nearest on earth, is not one of 
 kindred, it is assuredly the most effectual 
 cement of affection. It is not, indeed, so much 
 a means of attracting or exciting love, as it is of 
 securing it. In fact, it is scarcely known, until 
 familiarity draws aside the veil of social restraint, 
 and the character, with its real faults and virtues, 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 TEMPER. 
 
 is unfolded in the privacy of home. But it 
 may be said, and without unfairness, that sub- 
 sequent attachment, and consequently subse- 
 quent conjugal happiness, are, with but few 
 exceptions, in proportion to the good, and 
 amiable, and Christian temper of the wife. 
 
 And if we view temper with reference to 
 spiritual progress, — as the graces of disposition 
 are amongst the most winning ornaments of 
 the religious character, so are they eminentlj’ 
 subservient to its improvement and perfection. 
 Irritability is a stumbling-block, not only to 
 others, but to ourselves. It disturbs our peace, 
 by making us doubt of the reality of the spi- 
 ritual change within us ; and when the peace 
 of a Christian is disturbed, every grace lan- 
 guishes. On the contrary, a serene and bene- 
 volent temper is a source of internal happiness, 
 and is itself the essence of the Gospel. 
 
 Happy it truly is, as has been said, when the 
 bias is given to temper in the earliest years ; 
 when the movement to impatience is checked 
 before it becomes habitual, and irritability al- 
 layed before it affixes on the character the 
 stamp of peevishness, or emy, or discontent. 
 
TEMPER. 
 
 69 
 
 For, before we may be aware, the die may be 
 cast ; and an injudicious treatment may be the 
 origin of a mischief which will sadden the com- 
 plexion of a subsequent life, or which it will 
 cost many a laborious effort, many a painful 
 struggle, to repair. 
 
70 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 As, by taste, we imply oui' perception of what- 
 ever is agreeable to ourselves, or intrinsically 
 beautiful, and our faculty of discriminating 
 between these, and the opposite qualities, we 
 must, of course, attach to the term a compre- 
 hensive meaning. It expresses indeed a power 
 which is exercised with reference to almost 
 every object; an intellectual sense, by means of 
 which we instinctively discern wdiat we like or 
 dislike; and the movements of which, though 
 sometimes scai'cely to be defined or accounted 
 for, are distinctly intelligible to ourselves, and 
 decide our preferences, determine our opinions, 
 and have a material influence upon om- happi- 
 ness. 
 
 It has been objected to the prevalent accepta- 
 tion of the word taste, that it is indefinite and 
 
TASTE. 
 
 71 
 
 vague, — that, by taste, we may mean something 
 so subtle as to escape apprehension, — that it is 
 a conventional term, to which it is competent 
 to the most limited and fastidious tribunal to 
 affix an arbitrary meaning : and therefore it is 
 said that taste furnishes a convenient code, 
 embracing offences not cognizable by any other, 
 and denouncing a stigma against imaginary 
 faults. 
 
 Admitting, however, that the term may be thus 
 abused, and that we may justly be suspicious 
 of a phrase which savours of exclusiveness, 
 we must not take exception at a form of speech 
 for which we could scarcely find a substitute^ 
 nor neglect the improvement of a faculty, which 
 is one of the distinctive properties of a refined 
 mind. That such and such a thing is in bad 
 taste, may be the cant phraseology of a coterie, 
 and may convey a very ambiguous intimation of 
 the offence complained of, or it may serve as a 
 condemnation of what is merely obnoxious to 
 prejudice. Nevertheless, the standard of true 
 taste is neither indefinite nor imaginary ; and 
 its laws, though not wi-itten, are universally 
 F 4 
 
72 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 recognised, and felt by all, who are the subjects 
 of its influence. 
 
 Taste is, as it were, the nerve of the mind. 
 It is acutely sensitive of every thing that offends 
 it, and shrinks from contact with whatever is 
 thus displeasing. And it frequently indicates 
 also, not only what is grateful to itself, but what 
 will prove generally salutary to the intellectual 
 and moral frame. It is true that, in this latter 
 respect, it may not be always a sure criterion ; 
 that it may not give immediate notice of the mis- 
 chief that lurks beneath a graceful covering: but, 
 if delicately and rightly nurtured, its detection of 
 evil will be as accurate as its perception of ele- 
 gance or beauty. For instance, wdiere it is rightly 
 disciplined, it will sympathise both with the 
 moral and with the religious sense, and will 
 resent an outrage to either, as an insult to itself. 
 
 The intellectual taste is like the natural 
 faculty. It may not be always possible to as- 
 sign a reason for its preferences or dislikes, 
 but these are, in a healthful subject, the intima- 
 tion of what is wholesome, and not the capricious 
 fancies of a sated appetite. 
 
TASTE. 
 
 73 
 
 Taste, therefore, although its immediate refer- 
 ence is, not to what is intrinsically good or bad, 
 but rather to what is agreeable or the reverse, is 
 a power given us for important uses, and has a 
 great influence in determining the general cha- 
 racter, It is the result, no doubt, of other in- 
 tellectual qualities, as well as of external causes; 
 but, it has also an influence on the former, and 
 gives a marked and individual colouring to the 
 mind. 
 
 Perhaps few faculties are of such universal 
 application as taste. It is exhibited in the 
 minutest as well as the most important particu- 
 lars of conduct ; it influences the affections ; it 
 gives a bias to the opinions ; its control over the 
 inclinations is absolute. For, though where 
 judgment may be opposed to taste, a convic- 
 tion of duty may determine us to follow the 
 dictates of the former rather than of the latter, 
 yet the bias will remain in favour of the more 
 seductive guide, and our sense of what is, or is 
 not pleasing to us, will be apt to regulate, at 
 least the degree of ardour, with which we 
 follow a pursuit, or prosecute a line of action. 
 
 Taste, there can be little doubt, depends, in 
 
74 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 great measure, on association. We can account 
 for it often on no other grounds. Our tastes 
 and distates pi’oceed, for the most part, from 
 the power which the objects of them have to 
 recall other ideas to the mind. And persons 
 of superior cultivation have not only established, 
 for themselves, a higher standard of grace or 
 excellency, to which they refer, — but they have 
 attained to a quicker perception of the relation 
 of things to each other. They trace the con- 
 nection immediately, and as it were intuitively ; 
 and they, at once, distinguish between what is 
 allied to elegance, and what is, in however remote 
 a degree, connected wdth any thing displeasing 
 or vulgar. 
 
 This is especially true with regard to manner. 
 Persons of superior refinement are the most apt 
 to detect inelegance in manner. They are 
 instantly offended at a deportment which is, 
 in their minds, connected with \Tilgarity ; and 
 associations which might escape others, are 
 recognised by them. Their organ is peculiarly 
 delicate. As a practised ear can detect in the 
 vibration of a single string, its accordant tones, 
 — so persons of cultivated taste at once perceive 
 
TASTE. 
 
 75 
 
 the affinity between a style or manner, and 
 the tone of mind, of which it is the symptom and 
 the expression. And therefore such persons are 
 often designated as fastidious. Doubtless there 
 may be a fastidiousness which finds blemishes in 
 the most perfect work, and a prejudice which 
 is causelessly offended ; but, in general, those 
 minds which are the most highly cultivated, are 
 the most accurate discerners, and are the least 
 disposed to take groundless exceptions. 
 
 There cannot be a greater mistake than to 
 regard as trivial, the formation of our own 
 taste, or the pleasing that of others. Upon the 
 former, the latter, in great measure, depends. 
 We shall succeed in rendering ourselves agree- 
 able to those whose taste is the most accurate, 
 in proportion as our own is moulded on the 
 most correct model : and although, by persons 
 of inferior refinement, bad taste may not only 
 be tolerated, but may even call forth in them 
 admiration, yet good taste can offend no one, 
 and, by a strict adherence to its dictates, we 
 shall be most likely to raise the standard of those 
 with whom we may chance to be associated. 
 
76 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 A correct taste is more properly the result 
 of a general moral and intellectual culture, than 
 of any direct rules or discipline. The subject, at 
 all events, admits of no special directions. It is a 
 matter of feeling ; it rests upon a few broad 
 principles ; and when these are interwoven with 
 the character, the desired end vdU be attained. 
 Supposing, indeed, the tone to have been thus 
 given, a hint, as to any particular in which 
 taste is concerned, will be at once understood 
 and improved ; but where this mental refine- 
 ment is wanting, it is of no use to enjoin one 
 thing, or prohibit another. 
 
 The first great fundamental rule of good 
 taste is, to be natural; and it is from an infringe- 
 ment of this, that many of our worst mistakes 
 proceed. In manner or style, affectation is the 
 source of the most flagrant offences against 
 taste. Whether it be an affectation of fashion, 
 or of learning, of ignorance, of wit, or of piety, 
 it will be equally repugnant to the delicacy of 
 a superior mind. Affectation, indeed, is an 
 offence against high moral feeling. It excites 
 a suspicion of the truth of those who are guilty 
 
TASTE. 
 
 77 
 
 of it ; and although it may have resolved itself 
 into a mere habit, we cannot help feeling that 
 it originates in artifice. 
 
 Affectation is also symptomatic of a mean and 
 contracted mind. The affectation of fashion 
 is the vice of those who have no pretensions to 
 fashion. Fashion itself is an affectation ; — but 
 the imitation of fashion is always worse than 
 the caricature it copies. High-bred persons 
 are always simple ; and artificial manners are 
 generally only a cloak for vulgarity. They 
 possess no elegance; but their features are so 
 marked that they furnish an easy subject for 
 imitation, and can be as readily appropriated 
 as any other article of external decoration. 
 
 With regard to literary affectation, it may be 
 remarked with pleasure, that whilst the educa- 
 tion of women is, according to the present sys- 
 tem, far more intellectual than it was a century 
 ago, or probably than it ever was, a display of 
 learning is by no means in vogue, even amongst 
 our savantes. The precieuse of Moliere is 
 now seldom encountered. If affectation ob- 
 tains, it is of a different kind. Sometimes, in- 
 deed, learned ladies seem so to dread being 
 
78 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 estimated merely for their learning, that they 
 affect fashion, or any thing but literature. 
 
 It is an instance, not, it may be feared, alto- 
 gether uncommon, of the weakness of genius, 
 that it should pretend to what it ought to con- 
 temn. Yet it would seem that there is a way- 
 wardness of heart, which often renders us most 
 ambitious of that, which we do not and cannot 
 possess, even though our own endowments are 
 greatly superior to the objects which we covet. 
 It is related of a celebrated woman, on whom the 
 charms of person had been but sparingly be- 
 stowed, that, when complimented for her men- 
 tal endowments, she used to say, “ I care not 
 to hear that I am clever ; tell me I am beauti- 
 ful, and it will please me.” This is but an 
 avowal of what manner little less equivocally 
 expresses, when, instead of appearing what we 
 are, we endeavour to seem something that we 
 are not. The genuine has bleu would make 
 the most of her little stock of learning : would 
 get up, perhaps, her subject of conversation ; 
 would show off her exclusive attainments. But 
 in the present day we may see women of science 
 or literature assuming a different tone, — talk- 
 
TASTE. 
 
 79 
 
 ing with satisfaction of their acquaintance with 
 the beau monde, — affecting its phraseology, — 
 condescending even to its frivolity. This is 
 in worse taste than a display of learning. For 
 it argues greater weakness to appear desirous 
 of a distinction to which there is little claim, 
 and which, indeed, is unworthy ambition, than 
 to be tenacious of a celebrity not wholly un- 
 deserved. 
 
 The secret of pleasing is to be natural. Were 
 it worth while to seek the favour of people of 
 fashion, still this would be the most likely 
 means of obtaining it. They do not court an 
 intellectual woman, — if they court her at all, — 
 with an expectation of finding her one of them- 
 selves. On the contrary, they are the first to 
 think disparagingly of her, when she attempts 
 to vie with them on their own ground. Neither 
 should she strive, in any society, to act a part. 
 Her good taste will show itself in being uncon- 
 strained, — in conversing without effort, — in 
 being solicitous neither to display her learning 
 tior to conceal it, — and in rendering her de- 
 portment, as nearly as she may, in all points, a 
 transcript of her mind. 
 
80 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 But there is nothing in which the appear- 
 ance of affectation should be so scrupulously 
 avoided as in all matters in which religion is 
 concerned. At the same time, we must be 
 aware that that is not unfrequently styled 
 religious affectation which is the result of 
 true piety. Those who have little godliness 
 themselves dislike the appearance of it in 
 others, and are glad to find fault with tliis, 
 under the pretext that it is merely assumed. 
 Still religious persons would avoid much offence, 
 w'ere they more careful that all their expressions 
 on the subject of religion were perfectly sin- 
 cere. That they are conscientiously in earnest, 
 that religion is felt by them as a matter of 
 reality there is no doubt ; still they are some- 
 times apt to adopt forms of speech, more be- 
 cause they are used by others, and have thus 
 obtained a sanction, than because they embody 
 the genuine sentiments of the heart at the 
 tiifte of utterance. And, not only are these, 
 unintelligible, to such as have not the same 
 spiritual apprehension, — but, from the manner 
 and the occasions of their use, they convey 
 a suspicion that they are rather the symbol 
 
TASTE. 
 
 81 
 
 of religious profession, than the spontaneous 
 expression of what is actually thought or felt. 
 
 Such is the disposition of our nature to ex- 
 tract evil even from good, that familiarity with 
 religious subjects may almost induce a degree 
 of insincerity with relation to them. We are 
 accustomed frequently to hear and speak of 
 them, and to frame our language with refer- 
 ence to them. Even ordinary forms of speech 
 are in this way moulded in conformity to re- 
 ligious sentiments. And therefore, unless the 
 heart is scrupulously watched, there is danger 
 lest w’e be betrayed into insincerity; lest ex- 
 pressions go beyond feelings, and become mere 
 commonplace words of course, — assumed even 
 as the language of fashion is by the world. 
 
 It is not merely the irreligious who are 
 offended by this affectation : there are none 
 who are more grieved by it than Christians 
 of a refined and superior mind. For no taste 
 is more delicate than that of the Christian, 
 and, in matters of religion, it is peculiarly 
 sensitive ; and, therefore, a marked phraseology, 
 or an imitation of peculiarities generally offends. 
 
 It is to be regretted that any such manner- 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
8-2 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 isms should be adopted ; that one phrase should 
 be preferred to another, equally emphatic, 
 merely because it belongs to a certain school, 
 — that quaint forms of speech, obsolete, or 
 newly coined words, should be substituted for 
 simple and natural language. All these may 
 have the sanction of high example, — of elo- 
 quence, of which they are the blemishes, or 
 which is of so peculiar a cast, or command- 
 ing an order, that it can safely pass by ordinary 
 rules. But the same expressions, when bor- 
 row^ed, lose their apology. And though such 
 trifles should not stand in the way of truth, 
 they may excite or keep up a prejudice ; they 
 may serve as obstacles to the reception of a 
 doctrine; and they wall assuredly not recom- 
 mend truth to any. 
 
 Another important rule for the regulation 
 of taste, is to consult suitability. The reason 
 which we ordinarily have to assign for finding 
 fault with the taste of any thing is, that it is 
 unsuitable. With reference to many subjects, 
 indeed, taste decides relatively, rather than ab- 
 stractedly. It views things, not merely as they 
 are in themselves, — but as they are, or are 
 
TASTE. 
 
 83 
 
 not, adapted to the objects with which they are 
 associated, and the circumstances of their use. 
 It is indeed not uncommon for us to admire, 
 separately considered, what we dislike in the 
 connexion in which we find it. In such points 
 as dress, furniture, establishments, what is to 
 be approved in one case will produce an unfa- 
 vourable impression in another; and mistakes 
 often arise from judging of things by them- 
 selves, or in associations different from those in 
 which we intend to place them, and not con- 
 sidering them with reference to their destined 
 position. 
 
 Suitability is always the professed guide in 
 matters of taste. If an artist is consulted, 
 the plea which she deems most likely to 
 decide the wavering choice, is “ that the object 
 for selection is becoming.” Her judgment may 
 be questioned ; but the plea which she urges is 
 a practical lesson on the principles of taste. 
 
 Besides, in our own application of the rule, 
 we have to take into account that of which the 
 artist may be ignorant — not merely what 
 would adorn, — but what may suit our charac- 
 ter, position, and circumstances. Are we pro- 
 G 2 
 
84 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 fessedly religious ? — Sobriety in all outward 
 adornings is the subject of express scriptural 
 precept : not only so, — it is congenial to the 
 Christian character, — suitable to the Christian 
 temper. The style of a religious person should 
 be moderate, because moderation is in accord- 
 ance with the whole tone of the Gospel. On 
 the contrary, extravagance of any kind is in- 
 congruous, and is felt to be in bad taste, not 
 merely by serious persons, but in an equal, if 
 not greater degree, by persons of the world. 
 
 Still we may err in a contrary extreme. We 
 may unnecessarily offend by extreme plainness, 
 — not merely by slovenliness, — that indeed is 
 quite unseemly in a Christian, — is as opposed to 
 Christian morals as extravagance. But in things 
 indifferent we should endeavour to recommend 
 our religion. It can serve no purpose to select 
 a dress for no apparent reason but for its 
 want of elegance — to prefer the unbecoming 
 to the graceful — to adopt in external arrange- 
 ments a style inferior to our position, and which 
 attracts notice by its meanness. 
 
 Again, what may be suitable with reference 
 to one particular, may not be so with regard to 
 
TASTE. 
 
 85 
 
 Others, — what may agree with our character, 
 may not be quite congruous to our station, — 
 what may suit our station, may not our circum- 
 stances. Certain positions seem to demand a 
 certain regime : this is a worldly maxim, and 
 no doubt is available as an apology for secular 
 pomp and show : nevertheless it is, under re- 
 strictions, necessary to be observed. It is not 
 for the Christian to draw remark by an affecta- 
 tion of coarseness, by a frugality which borders 
 on penuriousness. Good taste adjusts the re- 
 spective proportions : it teaches Christians of 
 inferior station to avoid vying in external decor- 
 ations with a higher rank, and those of superior 
 degree to provide things suitable. It forbids 
 even wealth from competing with station, and 
 moderate means from attempting the appoint- 
 ments of wealth. It enjoins us never to be 
 ashamed of our actual circumstances ; and 
 teaches that the more strictly our arrangements 
 are in keeping with these, the greater will be 
 the prepossession in our favour. 
 
 It is equally pleasing to observe the woman 
 of high degree with the appointments becoming 
 her station, regulated with the grace and pro- 
 G 3 
 
86 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 priety which mark superior minds, and, at the 
 same time, the moderation that points to a more 
 enduring portion ; — and one in a more humble 
 position, in whose arrangements suitability is 
 the principle, and where the same tone of 
 chastened sobriety gives a consistent character 
 to the whole. In both, there is no appear- 
 ance of effort, — nothing strained or affected; 
 there is, in short, nothing remarkable. The 
 excellence of each consists in attracting little, 
 or no notice, and in thus proving the real sub- 
 ordination in which external things ai'e held. 
 In both there is the same developement of 
 Christian feeling, — which studies proportion, 
 not singularity, — and which, while it does not 
 affect indifference, has a higher end in view 
 than the gratification of a fancy. 
 
 It is almost needless to say, that taste leads 
 us to avoid low or vuilgar associations. Refine- 
 ment is the opposite of vulgarity ; and as taste 
 is the property of a refined mind, it of course 
 involves a dislike to any thing approaching 
 to vulgarity. Still the boundary lines are 
 not so marked as mieht be imagined. Pre- 
 judice may reject, as vulgar, what is not really 
 
TASTE. 
 
 87 
 
 so. There is a fastidiousness which would 
 reject much that is true, and destroy much 
 that is beautiful. We are indebted to those to 
 whom the poetry of nature owes its revival *, for 
 the restoration to their use and dignity of many 
 words and images, which an artificial refinement 
 had discarded as inadmissible in verse. The pre- 
 judice, which they successfully combated, is of ge- 
 neral application. It is the result of a taste falsely 
 and effeminately nurtured, which would take 
 away from eloquence its energy, and disallow to 
 simplicity its beauty and its pathos. It is this 
 which often, in religion, is offended at the plain 
 spoken language of truth, which takes exception 
 at a word because it is not found in its own 
 authorised vocabulary, and cannot tolerate a 
 deviation from the conventional standard which 
 itself has prescribed. To such a tone of mind the 
 phraseology of Scripture is often unpalatable, 
 and the emphatic style of the fathers of theology 
 is too strong and homely. The faithful expo- 
 sition of doctrine must be diluted; the phrase 
 which savours too much of evangelical plain- 
 ness must be softened down; and the vitality 
 
 * Coleridge and Wordsworth. 
 
 G 4 
 
88 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 and power of truth be weakened by an accom- 
 modation to a hypercritical refinement. 
 
 True taste sees beauty and appropriateness, 
 where prejudice takes offence. It delights in 
 the terse and expressive idiom, although it 
 may not have the sanction of modern use; in 
 the nervous period, though it may want some of 
 the graces of finished art. It discerns, indeed, 
 that there are subjects, to which great plainness 
 of speech is appropriate; and that these are 
 never so well handled, as when the style is in 
 strict subservience to the matter of discussion. 
 Not but that taste is offended by uncouth- 
 ness of any kind, or by manner or expres- 
 sion below the dignity of the subject treated 
 of. It is to be regretted when what is intrinsic- 
 ally valuable, is rendered unacceptable by 
 any thing adscititious ; when an effort seems 
 to be made, as is occasionally the case, 
 to clothe important instruction in so coarse 
 a dress that it courts the opposition of the re- 
 fined and intellectual. A Christian, however 
 sensitive, will alwa}^s value wholesome doctrine 
 in spite of an unseemly garb, — will prize the 
 “ apples of gold,” although they be not “ set in 
 
TASTE. 
 
 89 
 
 pictures of silver;” nevertheless, an outrage 
 to taste must jar on the nerve of a culti- 
 vated mind ; and the more so, because such 
 a mind will sympathise with the feelings of 
 those who, with like sensibility, are not equally 
 disposed to make allowance for the truth’s sake. 
 
 Vulgarity involves what is intrinsically low 
 and mean. If we bear this in mind, we may 
 find reason to correct some preconceived pre- 
 judices. We may determine that to be vulgar, 
 which may not ordinarily be deemed so ; and, 
 on the contrary, we may exculpate from the 
 censure, what we may have thought deserved 
 it. Homeliness by no means implies vulgarity ; 
 we are accustomed to see vulgarity in connexion 
 with it, and may therefore confound the one 
 with the other ; but where homeliness is suitable, 
 it is in the best taste, because in the best keep- 
 ing. On the contrary, pretension is, and must 
 be vulgar : it is the sign of a low mind. There- 
 fore a pretence at gentility (as it is called) is 
 vulgar in circumstances, where homeliness is 
 quite the reverse. 
 
 This is true with regard to general appoint- 
 ments, and to every thing in which taste is con- 
 
90 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 cerned. We enter a house of humble station ; we 
 findthemistress of the family engaged in domestic 
 arrangements, — or, what is more trying, we 
 disturb a family meal : — there is no discom- 
 posure, — no running away to change the dress, 
 
 — no apology for the frugal board. Every 
 thing may be homely, — perhaps poor ; but every 
 thing is consistent; and w'e take leave admiring 
 the good taste and good feeling that do not 
 shrink from a discovery of that, for which there 
 is no real cause to blush, — but of which inferior 
 minds would be ashamed. In the same way, 
 manner may be unpolished, — nay, even awk- 
 ward, — yet it is not necessarily vulgar, because 
 it may be natural. But to attempt to rise above 
 our level — to alFect a style which we cannot 
 compass — to deal in flourish, where simplicity 
 would be far more appropriate, is vulgar, be- 
 cause it shows an impatience of our station, 
 and a desire to appear above it. The gauclierie, 
 
 — the unintentional blunder, — nay, even the 
 provincialism of the uneducated, — is not vulgar, 
 in comparison with the affectation which is 
 always making an effort to seem fine. 
 
 Familiarity with superiors is, for this reason. 
 
TASTE. 
 
 91 
 
 vulgar. Ease is undoubtedly the symptom of 
 good breeding; but it is the ease which is 
 natural, not the ease which is an effort. It is 
 the being at ease in our own position, not 
 the attempting to be at ease in that which is 
 not ours. We may observe that the more ex- 
 alted the rank, the more scrupulous is the 
 respect that is paid to still superior station. 
 Yet this is only a proof that the higher the 
 breeding, the more obligatory are the rules of 
 good manners considered. 
 
 There are none who ought to be more 
 delicate in this particular than religious per- 
 sons. Christians of superior rank learn hu- 
 mility in the school of Christ. It is much to 
 be lamented when their kindness induces dis- 
 respect from those, whom it ought to render only 
 the moi’e deferential. True taste would show 
 the error, and would teach that delicacy, wliich 
 is the more shy of taking a liberty, where there 
 is the greater freedom of access. 
 
 One happy effect of religion is to promote 
 intercourse between all ranks. Spiritual bro- 
 therhood, however, should not be made a plea 
 for undue familiarity; and it is surely quite 
 
92 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 inconsistent with true humility when the in- 
 ferior loses sight of difference of station, and 
 is less respectful towards Christian superiors, 
 than towards those who have only a worldly 
 claim to deference. 
 
 There is no breeding so correct as that which 
 is founded on Christian principles. “ Saint Paul 
 was a perfect gentleman” is the remark of 
 more than one acute observer. And the more 
 we are imbued with the self-denying and 
 Christian spirit, the more tender shall we be of 
 the feelings of others, and tlie better shall we 
 know how to spare them. 
 
 Vain persons are always erring against taste. 
 Either there is a display of egotism, — which, 
 whilst it wounds us, excites contempt, — 
 or there is an attempt at show, — a studious 
 exhibition of tinsel, which only creates a sus- 
 picion that there is poverty behind. 
 
 Taste, however various in its application, is 
 one and the same organ, and the result either 
 of natural conformation or of mental discipline. 
 In its application to art it is still the same 
 faculty ; only its exercise in this particular 
 does not involve its development with reference 
 
TASTE. 
 
 93 
 
 to other subjects. A good painter or musician 
 may have little or no taste in things which are 
 not connected with his art. 
 
 Still, as taste is the indication of the tone of 
 mind, all that improves the mind tends to 
 refine the taste ; and it is mainly by mental 
 culture, and the regulation of moral temper 
 and feeling, that the faculty is formed. It 
 may be in some cases a natural gift ; and where 
 thei’e is a constitutional lack of it, it is con- 
 fessedly very difficult to impart it : but it is a 
 faculty, too, capable of much improvement. 
 
 No one will deny that it forms an im- 
 portant constituent in female character. It is 
 the secret of fascination, good manners, good 
 arrangement. Why is it that the society of 
 some estimable women gives little pleasure, — 
 that it is shunned rather than courted. They 
 are kind-hearted, good persons, but though we 
 esteem, we cannot like them. We cannot con- 
 verse with them five minutes without feeling a 
 discordant note. They have no delicacy, — no 
 tact. 
 
 On the contrary, in others, religion ap- 
 pears so attractive that their fascination is felt 
 
94 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 even by those who have no relish for their 
 principles. If they plead for a benevolent ob- 
 ject, they do it so well and so appropriately, 
 that they are ordinarily successful ; without 
 any seeming effort, they win their way, ■ — recom- 
 mend their cause, — establish their footing in 
 the hearts of all who are capable of appreciat- 
 ing them. Such women are objects of our 
 love ; their influence is recognised, and felt, 
 whilst others equally excellent perhaps, have 
 no such sway, but have sometimes even the 
 misfortune to mar what they purpose to ad- 
 vance. 
 
 In like manner, in some families all is con- 
 sistent: there is nothing unnatural, no excess 
 or deficiency, — every thing is happily blended 
 — every thing is harmonious and proportionate. 
 Hence, the impression produced is favourable ; 
 and we learn the importance of studying that 
 on which the power of pleasing is so much de- 
 pendent. But many of the points of which taste 
 has cognizance, lie peculiarly w ithin the province 
 of women ; and therefore its improvement is not 
 an unimportant part of the discipline of their 
 minds. It is not unfrequently remarked, that 
 
TASTE. 
 
 95 
 
 in questions of taste, even in trivial matters, 
 men are more correct than the other sex ; — that 
 they select with better judgment, arrange with 
 greater skill, and that even when at a glance 
 they reverse the award of female judgment, 
 they are generally in the right. This may be 
 because they are free fl’om certain prejudices to 
 which women are too much subjected, — because 
 they consult their own preferences rather than 
 the decrees of fashion, — because they inquire 
 what is graceful, not what is prescribed. Or it 
 may be, that taste is allied to the highest faculties 
 of mind, and as these are pre-eminent in the 
 superior sex, so taste in them is also more 
 advanced. We may gather, however, from 
 this fact a hint as to its cultivation. We 
 may learn that it will be in proportion to 
 general intellectual improvement, and to our 
 studying the standard of nature, rather than 
 that of any arbitraiy appointment. 
 
 Persons of taste are, as has been before re- 
 marked, the best qualified to appreciate real ex- 
 cellence. In composition, it is such readers who 
 are gratified by purity of style and diction, 
 and who can really estimate its merit. Their 
 
96 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 judgment will often resemble that of the pre- 
 ceptor, who, when his scholars brought up their 
 verses, used to say, “ if there is any thing in 
 these you think particularly fine, draw your pen 
 through it.” It will often expunge what others 
 might admire; will discern blots which a less 
 accurate organ would not detect ; will regret the 
 blemishes of excellence ; and may even close 
 a book, on account of some violation of taste, 
 in spite of an acknowledgment of its inti’insic 
 merit. But it is to such arbitrament that lite- 
 rature and art must submit ; and the student, 
 in both, must make every effort to erect the 
 standard in his own mind. In the same way, 
 the power of discrimination should be improved 
 with reference to ordinary matters. 
 
 The quality we advocate, it is acknowledged, 
 is the attainment of ripened experience ; never- 
 theless the foundation for its formation is laid 
 in youth ; and youth is spared many an error, 
 by an attention to its culture. A good taste 
 grows insensibly. Were a critic asked as to 
 the best means of forming a correct style, would 
 not his answer be — Read the best authors — 
 
TASTE. 
 
 97 
 
 study the best models — cultivate the moral feel- 
 ings ? — in short, elevate, in every way, the tone 
 of mind. Now such counsel holds good with 
 reference to every other department of taste. 
 
 Example and association are the most ordi- 
 nary, and the most effectual, means by which 
 taste is determined. Taste is imitative; it fol- 
 lows the lead of others. It has indeed so much 
 to do with the opinions of others, that it cannot 
 but be guided by them. There is but little 
 original taste. I like, cannot stand out against 
 the world. The taste of very young people is 
 therefore chiefly dependent upon what they see 
 at home. Give the tone, and they adopt it. In 
 manner, style, dress, all external matters, they 
 will probably take their Jirst model from then' 
 mother. 
 
 What is dropt in conversation may have much 
 influence in the formation and disciphne of 
 taste. We may most of us look back to our early 
 years, and recall hints, which have never been 
 forgotten. The delicacy of taste is, indeed, best 
 communicated orally ; the eyes of young people 
 may thus be soon opened to discriminate ; and 
 they will learn to sympathise with their instruc- 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
98 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 tors. In this way an influence is established, 
 which will counteract or modify impressions 
 subsequently received. When in the second 
 stage of life, young people seem disposed, in 
 matters of taste, to follow others rather than 
 their parents, it is probably attributable to some 
 decided defect in the latter, or to their having 
 taken little pains to communicate their own 
 impressions. 
 
 The evil of affectation has already been 
 insisted on. W'^e should be on our guard 
 against its earliest symptom. The first time 
 that its appearance can be detected, — that the 
 little girl enters the room with any but a natural 
 air, — she should receive a check. Let us not 
 be tempted to smile at her attempt, still 
 less to give a look of approval. It is the inti- 
 mation of mischief which those who know the 
 heart will fear : it may be the germ of conceit 
 or coquetry, which, if not eradicated, would 
 expand into the full-grown weed. 
 
 Above all, it is important that children 
 should not witness affectation in those to whom 
 they look up. It will soon appear in them, 
 if they observe it in their teachers. Let them 
 
TASTE. 
 
 99 
 
 not be able to detect any thing but truth in 
 the actions, and words and manners of those 
 around them. They are quick to discover any 
 attempt to convey a false impression, to appear 
 higher, or richer, or better, than the actual 
 fact, or to assume a tone different from what 
 they ordinarily witness. And if they detect 
 this, they will naturally conclude that there 
 may be a company-face and a home-face, — 
 company-manners and home-manners, — and 
 thus they imbibe the principle of insincerity 
 and affectation. 
 
 We render an essential service to the de- 
 portment, and even to the character, of our 
 children by encouraging them to appear as they 
 are, — to all persons, and on all occasions. If a 
 friend visits us in the morning, and kindly 
 wishes to see our little ones, it is better that 
 they should run down in their simple dress, 
 than that their nurse should put on their best 
 frocks and arrange their toilet with her ut- 
 most skill. 
 
 For the same reason, if they are surprised 
 in their garden or play-room, they should be 
 taught to come forward, without hesitation or 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 reserve, and meet an unexpected visitor, who- 
 ever he may be, with the ingenuousness and 
 freedom which are the best earnest of good man- 
 ners, and the best intimation of good feeling. 
 
 These are trifles; but it is in trifles that 
 the principle of which we have been speaking is 
 developed. And if we view these things with re- 
 ference to the formation of mind, or even the 
 impression that they make on others, they are 
 not trifles. They give indication of character, 
 and again, as has been said, act upon character, 
 and maintain the tone of which they are the 
 result. 
 
 Those who disregard trifles should con- 
 sider how much the opinion of others, and 
 consequently our influence over them, is 
 determined by what they see of us in trivial 
 matters. It may be, that an estimate so formed 
 is not altogether accurate ; nevertheless, ac- 
 tions, great or small, are, even more perhaps 
 than we imagine, the index of the internal 
 frame. Do some acute observers read character 
 at a glance, — do they see it in the stroke of a 
 pen, — in the gestures of the body, — in the ar- 
 rangement of a room or a toilet? We may 
 
TASTE. 
 
 101 
 
 smile at the magic power which from such slight 
 indications reads the mind ; but in all probability 
 the inference is correct. The physiologist de- 
 termines genus and species from the vertebrm of 
 a back — lays bone to bone, and sinew to sinew, 
 and designs the picture of an animal unknown to 
 postdiluvian zoology ; — why may not the moral 
 anatomist complete a portrait from a few features, 
 and from one or two distinctive traits draw the 
 whole character? 
 
 The riper our experience, the more shall we 
 be convinced that the rules of good taste are 
 little more than the principles of Christianity 
 expanded and applied to minor points. Christi- 
 anity and good taste are, at all events, strictly 
 congenial. But religious persons, especially in 
 the early days of their profession, are some- 
 times so intent upon the one great object, 
 that they overlook the minor details, even 
 though these may have an especial bearing upon 
 what they have so much at heart. 
 
 As Christians advance, however, they take 
 a more comprehensive view, and often lament 
 the mistakes they made, when they acted more 
 from impulse and less from judgment, and pur- 
 H 3 
 
102 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 sued a line of conduct which in some respects 
 their riper feeling disapproves. They know 
 that, though for such faults religion is in no 
 ways responsible, yet that they do Christianity 
 a disservice when they exhibit it in an univiting 
 aspect. And therefore they would warn the 
 yomig against the errors we have been instan- 
 cing, and themselves endeavour to realise the 
 beauty of holiness, — and by external graces, as 
 well as by higher attainments, to “ win souls to 
 Christ.” 
 
103 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 One of the most striking proofs to a reflective 
 mind of the Divine benevolence is the fact that 
 even evil is made subservient to the develope- 
 ment of what is good ; and that, much as there 
 is of the former in the world, we can never see 
 it without being able to point out the counter- 
 acting remedy. It would seem as if the prin- 
 ciple which originated redemption were made to 
 apply universally ; and, in some cases, so coin- 
 cident is the antidote with the mischief, that 
 it almost arises out of it. Thus it often is when 
 the evil is merely natural, and when the will 
 of an intelligent agent is not concerned. We 
 then find what we call the laws of nature pro- 
 ducing such reciprocity of action, that the mis- 
 chief which we deplore becomes itself a benefit; 
 and that which seems to threaten disorder 
 H 4 
 
104 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 and dissolution acts as a remedy to pre-existent 
 disease. 
 
 When, however, we turn to the consideration 
 of moral evil, we cannot, in the same manner, 
 see good as its consequence. On the contrary', 
 evil generates evil in the subject of it; and that 
 to infinity. Yet, although the mischief which is 
 produced by the depraved vdll of a responsible 
 being, far from being its own cure, is a prolific 
 source of misery and wrong, yet even this 
 may be made subservient to the developement of 
 excellence in others, and to the bringing into 
 play of virtues, which have for their end the 
 correction of w'hat is evil. 
 
 Christianity is altogether a remedial system ; 
 and it is remarkable that the highest Christian 
 o-races are brought into exercise bv collision with 
 moral evil. The supernatural fortitude of the 
 early believers was called forth by the cruelt}' of 
 Pagan persecution : humility is put to the 
 severest trial, and appears in its fairest light, 
 when exposed to the reproach and contumely of 
 ungodly men ; and gentleness, patience, for- 
 bearance, — each one of the blessed fruits of the 
 Spirit’s operation, — can scarcely be exhibited in 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 105 
 
 matured perfection, unless some contrary quality 
 ffives occasion for its exercise. 
 
 O 
 
 Thus it is, that sin, the great moral mischief, 
 is made subservient not merely to the exhibition 
 of the Divine perfections, but even to the deve- 
 lopement of those godlike graces with which the 
 Spirit imbues the subjects of his influence. 
 And in this sense it may work its own re- 
 medy; for even where virtue does not directly 
 bear upon the spiritual disease, as an antidote 
 or preventative, there is no external applica- 
 tion more effectual to correct it than a contact 
 with goodness. And thus the effect of an exhi- 
 bition of Christian graces, in collision with 
 moral evil, is, in a degree, similar to that of a 
 revelation of the character of God, in its actings 
 towards sin and sinners. The fuller the dis- 
 play, the more powerful is the appeal whic 
 such a manifestation makes to the undei’stand- 
 ing and the heart. 
 
 Of all graces, that which seems to bear the 
 nearest relationship to the Divine character is 
 Christian benevolence. Benevolence — in the 
 abstract — the will to do good — is our primary 
 idea of God, in reference to all his creatures. 
 
106 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 Benevolence, in an extended sense, — the will 
 to remedy evil, — is fully exemplified in the reve- 
 lation of God, as the Saviour of sinners. It is 
 in this, its secondary, rather than in its primary 
 acceptation, that benevolence exists as a human 
 virtue : for evil is so predominant in the world, 
 that the will to do good in a human instrument 
 almost resolves itself into a desire to correct or 
 alleviate evil. 
 
 And it operates with reference both to na- 
 tural and spiritual mischief. As it respects the 
 relief of temporal evil, there may be found the 
 remains of a principle of kindness inherent in 
 us, which the corruption of the will has not in 
 all cases destroyed. For in some, in whom 
 there is no indication of Christian motive, — in 
 some, who know not the name of Christ, — there 
 exists a tenderness of heart, that sympathises 
 with, and would remove, calamity. Still, there 
 are exhibited in others, even in the most civil- 
 ised, such hard-heartedness and cruelty, that 
 by the sight or the report of such sad examples, 
 we seem driven to the conclusion, that benevo- 
 lence, even in its restricted sense, finds but 
 small place naturally in the human breast. 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 107 
 
 In whatever degree, however, it may or may 
 not exist in the original soil, it becomes a per- 
 manent and efficient pi’inciple only in that which 
 bears the impress of Divine grace. It is the 
 Christian, whose ear is open to the cry of the 
 travailing creation, — who hears in the moan 
 of disease, in the plaint of deserted infancy, 
 in the mute voice of the oppressed animal, an 
 appeal not mei’ely to commiserate, but to re- 
 lieve. For to the Christian the sight of evil 
 recalls its cause. Pain, sickness, death, are 
 but remembrancers of sin. Sin produced — 
 sin perpetuates evil. The contemplation of the 
 consequence of sin involves self-reproach, — 
 it involves, too, a recollection of all that God 
 has done to remedy sin, and of all the motives 
 which lead to the love of him, and of his crea- 
 tures. 
 
 And if the benevolence that relieves natural 
 and inevitable evil is of Christian growth, 
 much more is that which endeavours to remedy 
 spiritual evil. There is no doubt a recognition, 
 almost universal, of the necessity of correcting 
 vice; and there are made, sometimes for moral 
 amelioration, strenuous efforts, which have not 
 
108 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 their rise in religion. But Christianity alone 
 clearly defines wherein spiritual evil consists, 
 what it is, and what is its exceeding mischief. 
 And by restoring the soul to its legitimate am- 
 bition, — that of being like God, — it furnishes 
 a pei’petual excitement to the practice of a 
 grace, which in its full developement is an 
 essential perfection of Deity, in his relation to a 
 redeemed world. 
 
 The heart of the Christian is made tender. 
 It sympathises with suffering of all kinds. It 
 may be, that Christians reflect more seriously 
 than others, — that they are habituated to in- 
 quire, with reference to every subject, what are 
 their own concern and duty in it. And there- 
 fore, when they see distress or calamity, they 
 do not di’ive it from their thoughts, but feel 
 that they are themselves, in some degree, I'espons- 
 ible for its relief. And from the very habit of 
 relieving distress, they become more susceptible 
 of compassion. The exercise of benevolence, 
 far from rendering us indifferent to the suffer- 
 ings of others from the familiarity with them 
 which it induces, quickens the tenderness of our 
 hearts. We do not indeed pass through life, as 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 109 
 
 the world would say, the easier for this. The 
 careless, the trifling, have the same scenes of 
 distress presented to them; but they do not 
 heed them, — they “ pass by on the other side.” 
 Christians, on the contrary, can scarcely leave 
 their home, without having their hearts wounded 
 by spectacles of evil and of woe. Are we in the 
 country? Even in the lovely scenes of crea- 
 tion ; amid the freshness, and the bloom, and 
 the repose of a summer’s landscape ; is there not 
 still a blot that mars God’s handiwork, — a 
 sound of distress, — a suffering animal, — or, 
 what is worse, sin, — sin, the universal curse, — 
 sin, that in cruelty, or in anger, or in some 
 rude form of moral degradation, wrings from us 
 the sigh of pity, and the ejaculation of shame 
 and sorrow ? And in more frequented resorts, 
 in the abodes of a populous city, in the streets 
 of our great metropolis, what misery, evil, and 
 sin, do we not see on every side? Does their 
 frequency steel our hearts ? Surely not ! Ra- 
 ther it leads us to deeper and clearer views of 
 the original of the mischief, and to more intense 
 desires to be ourselves instrumental in applying 
 the only remedy. 
 
110 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is of importance at once to 
 encoui’age, and to discipline the impulse; — 
 to encourage it, — for natural indolence, and 
 worldly prudence, are perpetual checks to its 
 becoming effective ; and to discipline it, — for 
 otherwise it may effervesce in mere sensibility, 
 and subside into indifference. The impulse to 
 benevolence is sti’ong in young Christians; it 
 is strong in the same way that every spiritual 
 desire is strong, bt seduatives, alas! are but too 
 frequently, and too successfully, applied. 
 
 The impulse to benevolence is also strong in 
 childhood. In a child awakened to Christian 
 motives, the susceptibility of compassion is a de- 
 lightful feature. Watch the movements of such 
 a child : how the little heart melts at the sight 
 of poverty, swells at opjpression ; and, if the 
 conscience be tender, grieves over sin ! Careful 
 should we be, that the withering whisper of sel- 
 fishness blast not the generous impulse. It 
 should expand in its early prime ; and bear fruit, 
 even in its vernal freshness; for here there 
 is no fear of a precocious budding. The 
 flowers, however early, give promise of a first, 
 second, and third harvest ; and if crop after 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 crop succeed, each watered by the dew from 
 heaven, each richer and heavier than the other, 
 all will at last be gathered in, — having left behind 
 them a seed, — and will be stored up, as a sure 
 possession, amongst the sheaves of God’s garner. 
 
 It is important, however, to guide, as well as 
 encourage, the impulse to sympathise with dis- 
 tress. Misdirection, or false indulgence, may 
 effect results not very different from those which 
 discouragement produces. False sensibility 
 should be as much guarded against as want of 
 feeling, for the one usually terminates in the 
 other. It is therefore wrong to nurse any sen- 
 timent which spends itself in words, — much 
 more so to allow a display of sympathy greater 
 than what is actually experienced. In the sus- 
 ceptibility of early life, a morbid state of feeling 
 may be induced, which, whilst it evaporates in 
 lamentation, indisposes to serious effort. Every 
 sight and scene of distress, every pathetic tale, 
 excites a movement. Sighs and tears are at com- 
 mand; but “alas !” it is said, “ what can we do? 
 we are so weak, so sensitive, so much overcome 
 by scenes of distress.” And what does such sen- 
 sibility end in ? In banishing from the thoughts 
 
112 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 whatever occasions pain, and causing us to sit at 
 ease amid our own comforts. 
 
 Now, as in the estimation of Christians, sin is, 
 in itself, the greatest evil, as well as the cause of 
 every evil, so the first object of the benevolence 
 of Christians must be to co-operate in the Divine 
 plan for the remedy of spiritual mischief. And 
 thus, in this respect also, — that its aim is precise 
 and definitive, — Christian benevolence differs 
 from the desire for moral amelioration w-hich 
 worldly wisdom chctates. Christians are enlight- 
 ened so as to detect at once the presence of 
 spiritual evil. They see it where mere pru- 
 dence does not see it ; they see it in every 
 symptom of alienation from God ; and there- 
 fore their object is, to lessen the separation, 
 and facilitate the approach to the fountain of 
 all good. 
 
 Christian philanthropy is founded on Chris- 
 tian faith. Having itself found access to God, 
 its aim is to point the w'ay — to enlighten in order 
 to convert. It does not inquu'e whether the 
 idolater of the East be on a par in morals 
 with the nominal Christian ; whether some 
 who are ignorant of Christ may not be more 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 113 
 
 generous, or more faithful, or more honest, 
 than others who are better instructed; — but 
 it knows that, without God, thei’e is no spiritual 
 good, and without Christ no approach to God. 
 And therefore it feels, that its work and prayer 
 ought to be, to bring God in Christ near to 
 all. Its scope is unbounded as the Divine pui'- 
 pose of mercy, and its object is the same. 
 
 In the furtherance of this end, no Christian 
 woman can be uninterested. She may question 
 her capacity to be of service, or her suitableness 
 for any particular undertaking ; but she cannot 
 but acknowledge the claim which the great ob- 
 ject of Christian philanthropy has upon her. 
 There are also some special reasons, which render 
 the exercise of benevolence appropriate to the 
 sex, and peculiarly incumbent upon it. These 
 are derived from the character, and from the 
 circumstances of woman. 
 
 Tenderness of heart is a grace which we ex- 
 pect to find in her. We say of one who is 
 deficient in it, that she is unnatural, — an alien 
 from her sex. And this quality is understood to 
 be independent of education or external circum- 
 tance. It is a part of woman; — woman, — the 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 1 
 
114 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 nurse of sickness, the helper of infirmity. As 
 she was fonned, so is she fitted, to be an help 
 meet' Help was little needed, until sin 
 brought pain ; but now it is the office of wo- 
 man to alleviate the evil which she was the 
 first to introduce. And therefore tenderness 
 and sympathy ought to be her characteristics. 
 It is hers to weep with those that weep. 
 
 It is a stigma on the Spanish ladies that they 
 look with complacence on the arena of the bull- 
 fight, and smile at the cruelties of the matador. 
 It is a blemish on their beauty, for it renders 
 them an exception to their sex in one of its 
 most winning features. The tender look, the 
 gracious mien, the gentle touch, belong to 
 woman. Her heart should be open to the 
 appeal of distress, and her hand ready to relieve 
 it. 
 
 Among the motives which address themselves 
 to woman, and which are calculated to excite 
 and foster in her a desire to alleviate evil, her 
 own liability to suffering is not the least. Her 
 familiarity with pain, teaches her to feel for, 
 and seek to assuage it; the dejection of spirit 
 which her position, and perhaps her tempera- 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 115 
 
 ment, may entail, inclines her to sympathise 
 with the afflicted ; and she, who knows what 
 it is to mourn in secret, will be disposed to 
 commiserate and to succour those who have 
 their portion here in sorrow. But if sympathy 
 with temporal ill be almost innate in her, much 
 more should she be alive to spiritual evd. Com- 
 passion, it has been said, has no object so urgent 
 for its exercise as sin ; and assuredly none 
 which speaks so home to the breast of a Chris- 
 tian woman. Her heart will bleed when she 
 looks on animal pain ; but sin, from its nature, 
 its consequences, and especially from the recol- 
 lections which it ought to excite in her who was 
 iirst in the transgression, demands her commi- 
 seration in a still higher degree. 
 
 The ordinary circumstances, also, in which 
 woman is placed, seem to point her out as the 
 most suitable agent in many benevolent de- 
 signs. She enjoys a leisure which is seldom 
 granted to the other sex. In what way can she 
 employ it so well as in relieving the ills of her 
 fellow creatures, and in being the almoner of 
 those who must themselves labour to supply 
 her store? In the way of business and pro- 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 fession, most men are necessarily of service to 
 their species; utility and beneficence are often 
 their calling; : — but it is for woman to do good 
 gratuitously, and to improve the indulgence she 
 enjoys, not for her own pleasure only, but for 
 purposes of practical and enlarged benevolence. 
 
 But then the question occurs, in what man- 
 ner can she render herself thus useful; what 
 field of benevolence is open to her, which is 
 not uncongenial to her character, and which 
 lies within her capabilities? This is a point 
 which it is of importance to determine. The 
 desire of doing good is, not unfrequently, inef- 
 fective, because no specific mode of accom- 
 plishing it is pointed out. We may entertain 
 a conviction of the duty of benevolence, and 
 a wish to be ourselves participators in its func- 
 tions; but because we never place these tangibly 
 before us, — because we do not fix upon 
 any one purpose, and say, “ let us ourselves, in 
 our own persons, accomplish this ,” — our phi- 
 lanthropy transpires in desires and designs ; 
 and even these decrease in ardour and sincerity. 
 If we would be really charitable, it is not enough 
 that we should open our purses, should appoint 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 117 
 
 and liberally supply an almoner. Our indivi- 
 dual exertions are the elFectual means, both of 
 doing good to others, and of bringing back a 
 blessing on ourselves. For as the immediate 
 contact with good, as has been before observed, 
 is the most efficient remedy for evil ; so the 
 personal observation of the evil which it is our 
 object to counteract and remedy, is the most 
 powei’ful excitement to Christian benevolence. 
 
 It must be allowed that this is a day of phi- 
 lanthropic effort, and that women particularly 
 have responded to the appeal which religion 
 has made in behalf of want. It is a day, we 
 would hope, of religious improvement; and 
 one evidence of its being so is the unceasing 
 efforts that are made to communicate the bless- 
 ings of Christianity to those who are without 
 them. The very fact, however, that women 
 have done so much, proves that they may do 
 more. They have shown their aptitude, and 
 their capability ; — they have begun to labour, 
 and they have already reaped some fruits. But 
 these are only the earnests. An increase of 
 hands, a concentration of efforts, an appli- 
 cation of energy to specific and appropriate 
 I 3 
 
118 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 objects, may render female exertion a suc- 
 cessful agency in the correction of that moral 
 evil which is the pain and grief of every ge- 
 nuine philanthropist. 
 
 It is, however, indispensable that the agent 
 be suited to the work assigned. If this is not 
 the case, the end will be impeded rather than ad- 
 vanced. Irregular efforts, in improper spheres, 
 and by unqualified persons, excite a prejudice 
 against female exertion generally, and often 
 raise a barrier to the success of well ordered 
 undertakings. 
 
 One of the most obvious offices of bene- 
 volence is that of visiting the destitute and sick; 
 and it is one for which women must be con- 
 sidered, in some respects, as peculiarly qua- 
 lified. Their kindness of address, their gen- 
 tleness of manner, their winning tones of 
 voice, may find acceptance where the more 
 decisive manners of the other sex would procure 
 a less courteous welcome ; and these recommend- 
 ations often more than compensate for their want 
 of authority and physical strength. In times of 
 sickness, a woman has natural and easy access. 
 She has a remedy to propose, or a comfort 
 
BENEVOLENCE, 
 
 119 
 
 to administer ; and as she soothes the pillow 
 of the suffering and the dying, she may gently 
 probe the wounds of conscience with the 
 spiritual sword, and then pour into them the 
 “ oil and wine” of Christian consolation. 
 
 There are situations where this duty involves 
 but little personal sacrifice. Amongst a rural 
 population, where the hamlet lies in some se- 
 questered glen, and in our way thither we 
 drink in the pure breezes of the park or of the 
 down; — where the cottage itself is clean, if not 
 picturesque, and its inhabitants welcome our 
 approach with the honest smile of simple hos- 
 pitality ; — there, we may well say, it is a plea- 
 sure to lift the latch, and to communicate to 
 those who, at least, are willing to listen, that 
 instruction which is the most valuable for them 
 to receive. We may meet here, it is true, 
 with ignorance and sin ; we may find sickness 
 and sorrow ; and to conflict with, and re- 
 prove the former, or to seek contact with the 
 latter, involves an effort. But it is not one 
 from which human nature I'ecoils, as it does 
 from scenes of unmitigated evil; and there are 
 refreshments, in the occupation itself, which. 
 
120 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 even at the time, compensate for the sacrifice 
 of time and ease. 
 
 It is not so, however, when a similar office 
 leads us, not to the quiet village, but to the 
 alleys of a densely populated city. Here we 
 must be prepared to meet wdiat benevolence 
 alone can teach us to encounter. Those who 
 pass only through the spacious streets and 
 squares of the metropolis, — who visit no abodes 
 but those of the wealthy, w’ho give of their 
 abundance through the instrumentality of 
 others, — know by hearing only of poverty and 
 destitution, and have little idea of the realities 
 of want. Could they see the picture which a 
 London court presents, — the infant swarm, 
 issuing from its garrets or its cellars, whose 
 countenances bespeak misery, and whose accents 
 teU of sin ; could they see the denuded walls, 
 where a fellow ci’eature pines in sickness, the 
 straw pallet where, perhaps, a poor woman meets 
 the hour of her anguish and gives birth to a 
 child of want and sorrow, — they would feel 
 almost a compunction in the enjoyment of their 
 owm luxuries, and would sincerely desire to 
 afford relief. 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 121 
 
 It may, indeed, be asked, whether scenes 
 such as these are a fitting spectacle for any 
 woman ; whether a sphere so arduous is at 
 all suited for female enterprise. We allow that, 
 universally, it is not. It is not one in which 
 very young w'omen can embark ; for it requires 
 experience, firmness, and qualifications which 
 belong only to maturer years. The delicate in 
 health are equally unfit; and, as domestic duties 
 have a prior claim to any foreign efforts, there 
 are many whom these will not allow to extend 
 their active labours beyond their own homes. 
 
 Nevertheless, some still remain whom these 
 exceptions do not touch ; to whom nothing 
 seems wanting, but the assignment of a specific 
 object, and the resolution to carry it through. 
 
 Such resolution is indispensable. None can 
 be effective labourers whom slight obstacles will 
 discourage ; whom a long walk, or a feeling of 
 fatigue, or the sight of unpleasant, or even of 
 disgusting objects is sufficient to deter; none who, 
 in the subjects of their charity, seek such as 
 require a small expenditure of effort on their part. 
 
 But amongst those in whom the love of Christ 
 is a constraining motive, and who are ready 
 
122 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 both to endure and to labour for his sake, there 
 may be found, perhaps not a few, whom age, 
 authority, health, and courage render fitting 
 agents for one portion at least of the work of 
 benevolence. 
 
 And their kind promptitude may be improved 
 to good purpose. Assuredly, the scenes which 
 city poverty presents are not such as would by 
 choice be selected for the delicate eye and ten- 
 der heart of any woman. And true it is, that 
 amongst the admirable persons of whom we speak, 
 many there are, who, in their ordinary habits, 
 are familiar only with elegance and comfort ; but 
 their seeming unfitness renders them, in some 
 respects, even the more fit. Their appearance 
 and manner, like the garb of the Soeurs de la 
 Charite, are their passports; and as thej' pass 
 through streets where destitution only meets 
 the eye, their deportment bespeaks their embassy, 
 and inspires respect. They seem to spread better 
 influences, and to appear as the happy har- 
 bingers of improvement. 
 
 And, in their visits to the interior of the 
 abodes of want, do they not appear them- 
 selves valuable coadjutors in all the designs of 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 123 
 
 Christian benevolence ? Are they not often 
 successful in persuading to habits of moral 
 amendment ? Do they not adorn many a walk 
 of religious usefulness? Who so fit as they to 
 persuade the adults to seek the House of God, — 
 to draw the infants to school — to disseminate 
 the Scriptures, — to awaken in the ignorant and 
 the perishing poor a desire for the word of life ? 
 
 The eyes of Christians have of late been 
 opened to the spiritual destitution of our large 
 towns. Benevolence has made its first efforts : 
 its pioneers have broken ground. But they 
 have done little more. They have brought 
 the torch, and exhibited the darkness. They 
 have proved that the present supply of moral 
 agency is quite inadequate to the need. 
 
 Is it not then possible to bring, as a subsidiary 
 assistance, the piety and zeal of women ; — to 
 concentrate, more than has yet been done, the de- 
 sultory efforts of such as are already stirred up 
 to the work, and to excite others who are ready 
 to respond to the only constraining motive ? * 
 
 * See Southey’s Colloquies, vol. ii. p. 227. The Authoress 
 gladly avails herself of this distinguished authority : and trusts 
 that Mr. Southey’s honoured name will at once shelter and 
 recommend the measure which she pleads for. 
 
124 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 It is allowed, that, as in the selection, so in 
 the employment of female agents, gi’eat dis- 
 cretion is necessary. Their sphere, of course, 
 must be limited ; there are places where they 
 may not go, and dangers w'hich they must not 
 encounter. The ill consequences that, without 
 such caution, might ensue, are obvious. It is 
 with no view of recommending to entei'prises 
 unsuitable or perilous, of encouraging an ardour 
 which overlooks real obstacles, and, least of 
 all, of prompting to efforts wTich may justly 
 be deemed intrusive or interfering, that these 
 suggestions are tlu’own out. The energies of 
 women, there can be little doubt, may be ren- 
 dered efficient to good purpose, — but they can 
 only be so w'hen wisely ordered ; when they 
 are directed by persons of superior judgment, 
 and receive the sanction of duly authorised 
 guides. 
 
 The scruples which naturally arise as to the 
 propriety of female exertion will be satisfied by 
 an adlierence to these limitations. And those 
 who are awake to the evils which Cbristian be- 
 nevolence would remedy, and feel themselves, in 
 some measure, responsible for their correction, 
 
 U rejoice if they can safely call in an aid, 
 
BENEVOLENCE, 
 
 125 
 
 which, if not the most effective, may still be 
 not altogether unworthy acceptance. 
 
 The present state of society encourages the 
 hope that benevolent efforts will be extended 
 far beyond the limit they have hitherto reached. 
 It must be regarded a favourable symptom for 
 any cause when its progress may be traced in 
 the higher ranks ; and Christians on this prin- 
 ciple augur well for the advance which religion 
 has recently made. However they grieve over 
 the ignorance and sin that still cross their 
 path, they hail with joy the increasing love for 
 the truth, which pervades the intelligent and 
 the influential. And, if the dawn of light may 
 thus be marked in every neighbourhood ; — if, 
 in the circle of our individual acquaintance, 
 amongst former associates, of whom for a time 
 we have lost sight, we hear of daily accessions 
 to the cause of godliness, how greatly must such 
 an increase of spiritual religion tell in favour of 
 the power which may be called forth in the 
 cause of Christian philanthropy ! How many 
 women, whose hearts have been kindled at the 
 altar of the sanctuary, are ready to assist in the 
 labour of love, and would gladly co-operate in 
 
126 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 any manner in which they might really pro- 
 mote the spiritual good of others ! Their ag- 
 gregate power, wisely and duly ordered, might 
 be brought to bear upon the mass of moral 
 evil; and might be made, in some measure, 
 instrumental in forwarding an improvement, 
 which has been too long regarded as almost 
 
 O O 
 
 hopeless. 
 
 These Christian ladies are already, probably, 
 the benefactresses of their neighbourhood. In 
 their country places they are to be seen in 
 the cottage and the school, comforting the 
 distressed, administering to the sick, and 
 teaching the young. Still, there remains a 
 work to be effected, — not indeed so agree- 
 able, — not so easy, — not, perhaps, so suitable; 
 but in which more possibly might engage 
 than have yet entered upon it, and might 
 render a more important benefit to society 
 than they have ever yet done. For, let 
 us not forget, that wdthin a few yards of the 
 aristocratic squares — the seemingly exclusive 
 abode of the noble and the wealthy, are to 
 be found claims more urgent than any w’e have 
 yet relieved, destitution such as we have pro- 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 127 
 
 bably never witnessed, ignorance and sin which 
 cry aloud for help. 
 
 Let it not be said that the case is hope- 
 less. Arduous indeed must be every under- 
 taking that has for its object the relief of an 
 evil so preponderating. But before Christian 
 energy the “ mountain becomes a plain.” And 
 whilst it is only as subsidiary agents that 
 Christian ladies can enter on the field, — whilst 
 it is only, as has been said, under restrictions 
 that they can at all embark in it, — still those 
 who are competent will, by co-operation in this 
 self-denying work of Christian charity, have 
 the satisfaction of feeling that their residence in 
 town is no longer unprofitable, and that it 
 brings with it duties as urgent and important 
 as their country life. 
 
 Combined effort greatly facilitates bene- 
 volent undertakings. We must work together 
 to do the most good. The independent and 
 isolated attempts of individuals, however zealous, 
 are, comparatively speaking, aimless and inef- 
 fective. They are, at best, but a drop in the 
 ocean. Besides it is these, of which the pru- 
 dence may well be questioned when entered on 
 
128 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 by women. Solitary enterprises may expose to 
 perils ; and, at most, can be undertaken only 
 by the veiy few, whose philanthropy, like that 
 of the female Howard of our own day, is not 
 subjected to ordinary rules. Societies, on the 
 contrary, economise and direct their force, and 
 in the division of their labour adapt their 
 agents to the functions required of them. Wo- 
 men may avail themselves of this passport. 
 Under the protection and conduct of a well- 
 organised society, — sanctioned by ministerial 
 cognisance, and accompanied by other associates, 
 they need not shrink from their share of re- 
 sponsibility, nor will they incur the charge of 
 temerity or misguidance. 
 
 The appeal to co-operate is made from many 
 of their spiritual instructors. And if without 
 ostentation, with the meekness which becomes 
 the sex, and is indispensable in the subordinate 
 agents of any society, more would respond — 
 more of those whose leisure exceeds their en- 
 gagements, and who in all other respects are 
 suited to the work, — might it not be hoped that 
 even female aid might, in some slight degree, 
 forward that improvement, which all who are 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 129 
 
 zealous in the cause of religion, from the highest 
 in spiritual office, to the humblest individual, 
 are desirous to promote. 
 
 It requires, no doubt, some firmness to visit 
 the poor in London, or in any large town ; and 
 it must be left to private judg-ment to decide 
 on individual competency. Let none undertake 
 such duty but those who are really equal to it. 
 Still, it is an encouragement to know that of the 
 excellent women, who have already entered on 
 this Christian enterprise, not one has to complain 
 of harm or insult. They have passed through 
 the abodes of poverty, safe in the panoply of 
 their own beneficent purpose, and if their ap- 
 pearance has excited surprise, it has called forth 
 no rude or imcourteous remark. 
 
 Perhaps few instances of more disinterested 
 moral courage are on record than that of Mrs. 
 Fry on first visiting Newgate. The condition 
 of her access was, that she should herself become 
 a prisoner. From this she did not shrink. Alone 
 and unguarded, she was voluntarily shut up 
 where official functionaries hardly dared to trust 
 themselves. She threw herself on the gratitude 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
130 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 of persons to whom fear was an insufficient re- 
 straint. She appealed to their better feelings, 
 and was not disappointed. 
 
 But if she was the first to break the ground, 
 her example has not been without imitation. 
 Unpromising as the soil appeared, and unpro- 
 pitious to female culture, her appeal was not 
 made in vain. Other labourers of her own sex 
 have willingly shared with her the burthen of 
 the day. They, like herself, are strong in 
 faith and patience ; fatigue and discouragement 
 do not deter them from prosecuting their work 
 of love ; and, as they give up their days to a 
 toilsome and anxious undertaking, and visit the 
 cells of the guilty and condemned, their sup- 
 port is, that they are following, though afar 
 off, the pattern of Him, whose last recorded act 
 of beneficence or earth was, to save a male- 
 factor. 
 
 Nor are there wanting in other more retiring 
 walks of Christian benevolence, those who, like 
 Priscilla, ai’e fellow-helpers with the ministers 
 of Christ. By their unpretending efforts, they 
 all forward the great work of moral renovation. 
 Those who, in the spirit of their Divine IMaster, 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 131 
 
 bestow their tender care on the lambs of the 
 fold, disdain not to devote to elementary in- 
 struction talents fitted for a superior sphere, 
 and unweariedly occupying their daily post, 
 teach the infants of the poorest and most igno- 
 rant to lisp the name by which they may be 
 saved, — these are, in truth, evincing the humble- 
 mindedness, as well as the benevolence which 
 characterise the. genuine believer, and are cast- 
 ing their “ bread upon the waters, which they 
 shall find after many days.” 
 
 Many such there are, who, unknown to fame, 
 prosecute their purposes of Christian love. 
 They seek no notoriety ; retiring in their 
 manners, they may be familiar with few like- 
 minded with themselves ; but they are ever 
 ready to be the instruments of good. Should 
 the means of personal liberality be withheld 
 from them, they give, what is more precious 
 than money, their time and strength. They 
 are the willing and judicious dispensers of the 
 alms of the rich, and the messengers of mercy 
 to the destitute. They are to be found, going 
 fi’om house to house, in the resorts of abject 
 
 K 2 
 
132 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 poverty, amongst perhaps the poor emigrants 
 from our sister isle — happy if they can shed a 
 ray of comfort on the bed of sickness, or reclaim 
 an erring child of sin, or direct the wanderer to 
 that open door, from which no suppliant was 
 ever turned away. 
 
 May the number of such increase ! They 
 are, it may be truly said, a national blessing. 
 Do we grieve at the deficient morality of the 
 lower classes, and desire to witness their im- 
 provement? And what means so likely to re- 
 claim them, as bringing them into contact with 
 goodness in the higher ranks ? Are they told 
 by those who would lead them astray, that their 
 superiors are careless of their misery, that luxury 
 and pride ai'e the distinctions of the great, that 
 the splended equipage and the lordly palace 
 eat up the provisions of the poor ; and that the 
 owners of such mock at their destitution? — \Miat 
 more obvious refutation of the calumny, than 
 the interest and sympathy of wdiich personal 
 visitation is a pledge ? The presence of a Chris- 
 tian lady is itself a check to sin ; not only so, it 
 is an expression of confidence, and an appeal to 
 gratitude. And it is by calling forth what re- 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 133 
 
 mains of goodness, more than by coercing the 
 corrupt principle, that permanent improvement 
 may be looked for. 
 
 We are, it may be hoped, becoming daily 
 more awakened to the duty of spreading the 
 Gospel in foreign countries. We are feeling 
 more and more deeply the responsibility which 
 the enjoyment of spiritual light involves; shall 
 we not then be the more solicitous to remove 
 from our own land the reproach of ungodliness ? 
 Those Christian ladies especially, who contribute 
 so liberally to the evangelisation of the remotest 
 regions, and scruple not to send teachers even 
 of their own sex to elevate and enlighten the 
 women of the East, will not forget that there 
 are missionaiy stations at their own doors. 
 Here they may be themselves the labourers ; 
 here they may act, not by deputy, not in J 
 way only of counsel, encouragement, and 
 eleemosynary aid, — but personally and orally. 
 Here they may themselves carry the blessing to 
 many of their own sex, and see the work of 
 moral renovatioia prosper in their hands. 
 
 When the excellent lady who first attempted 
 female education amongst the Hindoo castes 
 K 3 
 
134 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 made known the benevolent purpose w'hich had 
 brought her from her own country to the shores 
 of the Carnatic, tlie wise men of the East ex- 
 pressed their sense of her mission in the fol- 
 lowing greeting: — “Lady, had you known 
 one fact, you might have spared yourself so long 
 a voyage, — the Hindoo women have no souls.” 
 Notwithstanding this taunt she persevered in 
 her enterprise. She has practically refuted the 
 prejudice against her sex ; and has received the 
 thanks of those who welcomed her with scorn. 
 
 And thus it vvill ever be when benevolence 
 perseveres; and when, in spite of discourage- 
 ment or worldly policy, Christian wisdom 
 and energy prosecute what philanthropy de- 
 signs. It may be truly said of such a zeal, 
 that it tramples upon impossibilities. And 
 it is no less blest to the exerciser of it, than 
 to the subjects of its operation. The activity 
 of a believer’s mind, called forth as it has been 
 by subjects of engrossing interest, needs a 
 sphere in which it may expatiate. Chris- 
 tianity is so intellectual as well as so spii’itual 
 a I’epast, that powers which may have lain dor- 
 mant are awakened in all who have been made 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 135 
 
 acquainted with its provisions. These faculties, 
 when once roused, require employment. They 
 become restless when not improved. Hence 
 may result, impatience, extravagance, a looking 
 out for excitement — all those faults and errors 
 which disfigure religious profession, and which 
 have been found most frequent amongst such 
 as have not the corrective of active business. 
 Occupation is the safety valve, through which 
 exuberant zeal finds egress ; and it is then con- 
 densed into an available and efficient power. 
 
 Experience verifies this assertion. Have we 
 not, amongst the circle of our religious acquaint- 
 ance, occasionally witnessed in some, symptoms 
 of inconstancy and love of change? — Have we 
 not watched with solicitude their path, fearful 
 lest their ardour should be misdirected, and the 
 very eagerness of their appetite should lead them 
 into dangerous pastures ? And have we not ob- 
 served that the most effectual safeguard to such 
 has been — the direction of their energies to 
 active duties ? Not only are their minds thus 
 drawn off from curious speculations to schemes 
 of practical usefulness, but they are taught the 
 K 4 
 
136 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 importance and value of vital truth by observing 
 its application to ordinary need ; and thus 
 they are strengthened in right views, they ad- 
 vance in humility, and they further by their in- 
 fluence, and by their practice, sober and tnie 
 religion. 
 
 For the self-denying duties of active benevo- 
 lence, no motive is sufficient but that of a grate- 
 ful and filial affection towards God in Christ. 
 The doing good to others is only the outward 
 expression of the sentiment of Christian love, — 
 that love which hopeth and endureth all things, 
 and is the chief of spiritual graces. 
 
 Such benevolence is no mei'e holiday ser- 
 vice. It involves details in eveiy way tiying 
 to the bodily and mental fi'ame. And it is 
 well that we should bear this in mind ; for if 
 Ave haA'e viewed benevolence only through the 
 halo of poetry ; if we have thought only of the 
 pleasures of relieving distress, without laying 
 our accoimt for personal sacrifice ; if we have 
 have been led to embark in the work of charity 
 by a strong appeal to our compassion, or by the 
 transient excitement which present distress may 
 occasion, — we shall not be prepared for the offices 
 
BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 137 
 
 required of us. Mercy, with her cherub in- 
 fants, is a lovely image, classically embellished ; 
 but the picturesque work of the chisel is a flat- 
 tering likeness. It is mercy in Eden rather 
 than mercy in a fallen world. 
 
 The outworks of charity are easy of access : 
 the belonging to societies, the frequenting com- 
 mittees, the giving and soliciting pecuniary aid, 
 are only the ministrations of the outer court. 
 The offices of the inner temple are a higher ser- 
 vice, and demand greater exertions. And those 
 only are fitted, or are willing to engage in 
 these, in whom the spirit of God has created 
 a desire to be like the author of all good, and 
 in whom the sense of mercies received has 
 given rise to a well of gratitude that waters the 
 heart, and makes it fruitful, not in the blossoms 
 of profession, but in gi'aces which are the pro- 
 duct of Divine and perfect love. 
 
 To realise such a character is an object 
 worthy ambition. It involves a participation 
 in holy mysteries, — mysteries which knit to- 
 gether and assimilates those who receive them to 
 their Priest and Head. The token of their 
 fraternity, the evidence of their likeness is. 
 
138 
 
 BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 howevei’, known and read of all. It consists in 
 that “ pure and undefiled service which visits 
 the fatherless and the wddows in their affliction, 
 and keeps the Christian unspotted from the 
 world.” 
 
139 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 'W OMEN, there can be little doubt, are less inde- 
 pendent of opinion than the other sex. That 
 it should be so is only natural. Neverthe- 
 less, this feature in their character may operate 
 to their prejudice; for it may direct their 
 inquiries to the estimation in which things are 
 held, not to their intrinsic worth; and lead them 
 to ask how actions will be regarded, I’ather than 
 whether they are right. 
 
 General opinion must help to form individual 
 judgment. There is, however, independent of 
 it, an internal standard of truth, which, if 
 rightly formed, should be the criterion to 
 regulate our decisions ; and where there is 
 reason to believe that the popular estimate is 
 not accordant with this rule, the preference 
 should certainly be given to the latter When- 
 
140 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 ever it is not so, we shall find reason to deplore 
 our choice. 
 
 There is one event most important in its 
 bearing on individual happiness, in relation to 
 which, general opinion has, it may be feared, 
 
 too considerable an influence. Tlie prejudice 
 
 * 
 
 in favour of the married rather than the unmar- 
 ried state, as it respects woman, is great. No 
 doubt the prepossession is not without reason ; 
 but it is, in many cases, excessive and unfair 
 It leads often to folly and to unhappiness, ancj, 
 disposes us to undervalue persons who may 
 have the highest claim to admiration and 
 esteem. 
 
 It is true, indeed, that every married woman 
 must have been on some account, an object 
 of preference; and the selection implies a 
 compliment. But, though it may indicate in- 
 dividual partiality, it is by no means decisive 
 as to the merits of the persons so favoured; 
 and, as the choice says little in behalf of those 
 on whom it falls, so neither does its absence 
 argue any sort of inferiority. For, it is almost 
 needless to say, that, in this respect, in- 
 dividual taste is very arbitrary ; and that con- 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 141 
 
 siderations which have nothing to do with 
 genei’al excellence too often regulate the selec- 
 tion. Besides we all know that the fact of 
 remaining single, may presuppose the not being 
 easily won, as well as the not being sought ; 
 and it is only kind to believe, that, in the majo- 
 rity of cases, the former is the cause. 
 
 Without, however, further inquiring into the 
 occasion of the prejudice in favour of marriage, 
 we may only remark its existence, and infer its 
 effects. These, on the whole, it must be 
 allowed, are not favourable to female character. 
 For, although to please the other sex is a legi- 
 timate ambition, and is a means of producing 
 many of those graces which render women ami- 
 able, still, to make their preference a matter of 
 first importance, and consider it as the end in 
 view in all the early part of life, entails much 
 disquietude, and is a hinderance rather than a 
 stimvdus to real improvement. 
 
 The evil may be traced in education. There 
 can be little doubt but that the motive for the 
 showy education, too much in vogue, is, — esta- 
 blishment in life. The profusion of accom- 
 plishments, the exclusive culture of whatever is 
 
142 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 dazzling, the study of effect, — these all point to 
 one aim, and look for their reward in the bril- 
 liancy of the nuptial alliance. Not that this 
 is peculiar to modern times. The young 
 woman of past centuries was, unquestionably, 
 often trained with the same view, although the 
 method of the discipline might have been dif- 
 ferent. But the misfortune is, not only that 
 the motive is unworthy, but that the effects it 
 produces are prejudicial. Tliose who are 
 actuated by it bestow their care on the cul- 
 ture, not so much of the graces which render 
 young women permanently agreeable, as of 
 such fascinations as court observation, and 
 attract notice at first sight. In so doing, they 
 pay but a poor compliment to the discernment 
 of the other sex. Nevertheless the course is so 
 often successful in attaining the object at which 
 it aims, that it is to be feared it will still have 
 many followers. For whilst there is, proba- 
 bly, in the minds of most men, a conviction 
 that external attractions, without more durable 
 qualities, will contribute little towards domestic 
 happiness, still there is so much influence 
 in what meets the eye, that the preference 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 143 
 
 is often decided by it, rather than by what 
 is more intrinsically valuable. And therefore, 
 as beauty, the most successful of outward attrac- 
 tions, is an incommunicable gift, and where not 
 granted, not to be obtained, — endeavour is made 
 to compensate for its deficiency by some other 
 brilliant decoration; and dress, manner, fashion, 
 and accomplishment vie in their respective 
 allurements. 
 
 It must be lamented when, for this competi- 
 tion merely, education is preparative, — when, 
 instead of its being, as it should be considered, 
 a discipline initiatory to that which is to be car- 
 ried on through life, — and of which the object 
 is to elevate mind to its highest capacity, and 
 to fit the soul for its highest good, — it becomes 
 a means only towards a single and a very 
 subordinate end ; an end which, however it may 
 seem to involve important interests, will not, 
 when so pursued, be likely to produce even 
 present happiness. 
 
 And when this has been the object pursued, 
 though at a distance, in very early life, it will 
 not be lost sight of when the prospect of suc- 
 cess is near. Tlien, indeed, it operates more 
 
144 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 obviously, and more injuriously. For, if at 
 all participated in by the young persons them- 
 selves, it diverts their minds from the most 
 useful objects, and excites in them anxieties and 
 tempers vrhich are equally prejudicial to their 
 character and peace. 
 
 It may seem strange that a motive which can 
 never be avowed, — of which the influence has 
 so often been ridiculed or gravely censured, 
 should still be so frequently admitted, and have, 
 in many cases, so obvious a sway. 
 
 Its prevalence does not appear restricted to 
 any class. Take off the slight veil which pro- 
 priety, or prudery, more or less scrupulously sup- 
 plies, and it may be detected where its presence 
 would scarcely be surmised. It is with mothers 
 that the reproach chiefly rests. And although 
 the too evident disclosure of the aim always 
 excites a smile, — although it is asubject of satire 
 in almost every popular fiction of the day, — it 
 would seem as if the propensity were, in some 
 cases, inveterate, and formed an essential part of 
 maternal solicitude. 
 
 It may occasionally be discovered where cer- 
 tainly the parties ought to be superior to its in- 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 145 
 
 fluence, and where its detection brings dis- 
 credit on the profession of religion otherwise 
 maintained. It is here peculiarly objection- 
 able; for, though religion itself is a bond of 
 union, and often originates and cements an- 
 other tie, no advantage should be taken of the 
 intimacy it may sanction, for any selfish or 
 secular purpose. If any society can be exempt 
 from the manoeuvring which is a reproach to 
 our sex, it should assuredly be — religious so- 
 ciety. In a great measure we may hope that it 
 is so. — Still, it must be matter of regret, that 
 there should not be the most marked superi- 
 ority in this particular ; and that, in circles 
 where the highest principle in every thing 
 ought to prevail, there should ever appear any 
 of those exhibitions of worldly policy, which 
 are censured where a less strict standard is 
 avowed. 
 
 It may be amusing to by-standers to observe 
 the working of the plan ; the careful approxi- 
 mation of parties, the advantageous exhibition 
 of whatever may be thought specially agreeable 
 or attractive, the exclusion of inconvenient com- 
 petition. But, though these little strokes of 
 
 VOL. II. L 
 
146 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 diplomacy may do no more in their effect on 
 observers than provoke a smile, they are much 
 to be deprecated from the influence they have 
 on those, on whose behalf they are contrived. 
 There can scarcely, indeed, be a greater error 
 than the encouragement in young persons, by 
 action or by word, of the idea, that the avowed 
 partiality of the other sex is necessary to happi- 
 ness ; or the allowing them to perceive, that 
 their future establishment is a matter of solici- 
 tude to those who are their present guardians. 
 If the general bias, as has been said, is so much 
 in favour of the married state ; if the flatterincr 
 tribute of an avowed partiality, the pleasures of 
 courtship, the appointments of a wedding, all 
 present themselves before the minds of young 
 women, and appear an agreeable termination 
 to the vista of the next few years ; the endea- 
 vours should be, to counteract, rather than 
 favour the impression — to divert from its en- 
 tertainment, — to remove to a distance, con- 
 siderations which will too speedily force them- 
 selves, and to leave the mind unfettered and 
 unembarrassed, during its few best days. 
 
 Otherwise it will be hindered in its progress. 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 147 
 
 and will be in danger of losing much of its 
 energy. It will be apt to indulge in foolish 
 speculations, or fancies unworthy of a transient 
 thought. It may even become restless and 
 solicitous ; and, if not under due regulation, 
 may contract dispositions obviously wrong. 
 
 Nor can it be doubted, that, when the ideas, 
 to which allusion has been made, recur fre- 
 quently to the thoughts, they prevent the sug- 
 gestion of others far more profitable. They 
 induce a discontent with home, a desire for ex- 
 citement, a disinclination to apply to serious 
 studies, — a vain and a trifling spirit. 
 
 On the contrary, where no encouragement is 
 given to them, the manners are much more 
 natural, and the mind is more free. There is 
 no predisposition to feelings which, whenever 
 entertained, will be engrossing ; and which, 
 under circumstances the most favourable, must 
 produce some portion of disquietude. And there 
 will be less danger of mistake as to the feelings 
 themselves, less liability to a misconception of 
 their nature, and less susceptibility of any extra- 
 vagant or immoderate sentiment. 
 
 It will be allowed by all, that, whatever pre- 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 possession obtains in favour of marriage, that 
 connexion bears too materially upon the whole 
 complexion of after-life to be lightly entered 
 upon. Still this conviction does not produce 
 practically the caution which would seem only 
 natural and necessary. And there is reason 
 to believe that, in some cases, the only apology 
 for such inconsiderateness is w^anting. The 
 sentiment which asserts its claim to w'ave ordi- 
 nary considerations, does not exist, or at least 
 what assumes its name is not the genuine feel- 
 ing, and possesses neither its power nor its spell. 
 It may be granted that true affection will plane 
 many roughnesses ; that not only does it over- 
 come ordinary impediments, but that, when the 
 tie is indissoluble, it reconciles to many a cross, 
 and excuses many a failing. But the virtue it 
 possesses, renders its presence the more indis- 
 pensable ; and enhances the danger of mistaking 
 for it feelings which have no such efficacy. 
 
 Yet the prejudice of w'hich w'e have been 
 speaking, will almost, of itself, persuade to a 
 step which affection only can justify. The lan- 
 guage and forms of society, all tend to prove, 
 and keep up, the impression in favour of the 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 149 
 
 married state. Marriage is a subject of con- 
 gratulation, — the establishment of daughters is 
 talked of, in woiddly phrase, as a successful 
 achievement, — the betrothed and the bride 
 are treated with a consideration which is most 
 flattei’ing to those who ai’e the subjects of it. 
 And if these are only natural circumstances, 
 arising out of the social state, still they operate 
 in favour of the popular opinion, and will some- 
 times go far to persuade the existence of that 
 sentiment, of which the reality is more than 
 doubtful. 
 
 Besides, the avowal of preference by one 
 of the other sex, or even the less explicit 
 indication of it, may excite, in a woman, 
 feelings which approximate to affection, — but 
 which are not the genuine feeling, and will 
 not stand the test of time. There is some- 
 thing amiable, indeed, in the sentiment thus 
 engendered. It is not the result of vanity, 
 which renders the coquette as desirous of 
 homage, as she is indifferent to those who 
 render it. It proceeds rather from a delicate 
 and grateful mind ; which feels that affection is 
 a choice and rare tribute ; and that, when freely 
 L 3 
 
150 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 given, it ought at least to receive some return. 
 Nevertheless the sentiment, if it proceeds no 
 further, is not the love that will last a life, and 
 therefore not that on which to risk the stake of 
 happiness. 
 
 Again, the independence which marriage 
 seems to olfer, may be a temptation, and may 
 dispose the heart to conceive itself under a more 
 tender influence. This is altogether a delusion. 
 Not only is the motive unworthy, and productive 
 of present mistake, but it must lead to future 
 disappointment. For if, in some lesser points, 
 the man’ied woman may be independent, in 
 graver matters she is under authority ; and ever 
 though the cord that leads her be the silken 
 chain of love, still she has to make the sacri- 
 fice ; — it is her’s to follow ; and “ to be in all 
 subjection.” 
 
 And can there be a doubt, that, when any 
 inducement such as desire of the distinction and 
 the privileges of a married woman, or, on the 
 other hand, fear of the neglect implied in re- 
 maining single, is a principal ingredient in the 
 sentiment that persuades to marriage, real affec- 
 tion has little to do with it ? Yet the apprehen- 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 151 
 
 sion of never being invested with the bridal 
 robe, may be an argument as effectual as the per- 
 suasives of the lover, and may succeed when the 
 latter only would have failed. To this re- 
 luctance to be left out of the nuptial rolls may, 
 perhaps, not wrongly, be ascribed unions, for 
 which the capriciousness of female taste is 
 scarcely a sufficient plea. It is said, with re- 
 ference to marriage, that the later days of a 
 woman’s youth are more perilous to her pru- 
 dence, than when beauty enjoys its bloom, and 
 the feelings are in all their freshness. And if 
 observation sometimes verifies this remark, even 
 in persons whose judgment on other points is 
 unquestioned, must we not consider the ex- 
 amples that occur, as concessions to the popular 
 opinion, and as proofs, that minds of even a high 
 order are not superior to a prejudice of gene- 
 ral consent ? 
 
 It is, therefore, the more important, to con- 
 sider the alternative of happiness or unhappi- 
 ness, which the married life presents ; and to 
 set the probability, or even the possibility, of 
 the latter, against the too prevalent predilection. 
 
 A depreciation of married happiness, as it is 
 
 L 4 
 
15-2 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 not consistent with truth, so neither is it the 
 corrective of the bias which would lead, incon- 
 siderately, to matrimony. It is rather by con- 
 sidering what the nuptial tie ought to be, than 
 through fear of not realizing its felicity, that 
 caution in contracting it will be induced. 
 
 And truly it may be said, that when, in the 
 familiarities of domestic life, heart meets heart; 
 in the pursuits of intellect and taste, mind 
 responds to mind ; in the breathings of the 
 heaven-born nature, spirit joins with spirit — so 
 that one heart, one mind, one spirit, is the true 
 expression of a union so near, so sacred; — no 
 dx’eam of romance has ever exceeded the sober 
 reality of the daily tasted, and daily increasing 
 happiness. Chastened indeed it is — chastened 
 by the infirmities of natui’e, by the changes and 
 crosses of life ; chastened by the dread which 
 creeps into every present enjoyment lest the 
 tie, for a time, be broken; — but, if it be so 
 chastened, the love that knits hearts together 
 is even the more intense. It is a love that sm- 
 vives changes, that bears with infirmities, that 
 shrinks not from the valley of the shadow of 
 death, but keeps itself chaste, for a more en- 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 153 
 
 during union. And those who have experienced 
 it, — who, together, have encountered the “ briars 
 of this working-day world,” and have grown in 
 tenderness as they have together suffered, as well 
 as together rejoiced, will be very jealous of the 
 character of married life ; and will not allow the 
 indifference in which some pass on together, to 
 stand as the fair specimen of connubial fellow- 
 ship. 
 
 Truly those are blessed, to whom long and 
 intimate acquaintance has given an identity of 
 feelings and of cares, — whose love is ripened 
 into confidence; and to whom their very dif- 
 ferences in character have been a mutual good. 
 They are the examples of married bliss; and if 
 their felicity may encourage others who, like 
 them, are suited to be fellow travellers on the 
 journey of life, let it also deter from such 
 association, any, whose congeniality to each other 
 is more doubtful. There is really no inter- 
 mediate state, as it respects happiness, in mar- 
 riage. The careless non-interference which 
 may satisfy some, is infelicity ; — for it is an 
 absence of happiness, — and it is also a state of 
 danger. The step is but small between luke- 
 
154 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 warmness and alienation ; and if the interval be 
 not passed, still how different is the dull endur- 
 ance of each other’s society from the ardour 
 with which intercourse was once sought ; how 
 inferior the permanent realization, with the an- 
 ticipated and pledged enjoyment. 
 
 In spite of all that worldlymindedness may 
 object, love is essential to nuptial happiness. 
 Love is no mere dream of the poet or the 
 novelist. It is no mere fancy of the un- 
 disciplined mind. In its truth, its reality, 
 it is experienced only by the virtuous ; and the 
 more elevated the character, the more pure, 
 and the more deep, will be the affection. 
 
 Love, in minds of the highest order, is en- 
 during. It is not speedily conceived. It is 
 not taken up as the play of an idle hour ; the 
 bubble that glitters and bursts in the sunbeam ; 
 the caprice which may with impunity be in- 
 dulged. Therefore love, in such minds, per- 
 manently affects happiness. It may be hard to 
 secure it, — but it is even more difficult to lose 
 it. It is a boon that, when once given, can 
 scarcely be recalled. And though such love is 
 rarely unworthily bestowed ; though instances 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 155 
 
 of ill-requital or disappointment are uncommon, 
 — still, it is in such cases, when they do occur, 
 that the barbed arrow rankles in the heart, and 
 the wound that bleeds in secret exhausts the 
 finest and the strongest minds. 
 
 Love, of this sort, is exclusive and individual. 
 It is not the coquetry that smiles on every ad- 
 mirer, and that, if one votary fails, has others in 
 reserve. It is the one chaste tribute of the 
 heart; it cannot be either shared or trans- 
 ferred ; it is the pledge of nuptial faith, and the 
 earnest of nuptial endearment. 
 
 Such love is founded on esteem. This is 
 its security; its guarantee against disappoint- 
 ment ; its own internal witness of being genuine. 
 It is not the admiration of personal form ; the 
 sentiment excited by the glitter of rank, equi- 
 page, or wealth, or induced merely by casual 
 association; neither is it the wayward passion 
 that sets aside restraint, and knows no reason 
 but its own caprice. It is the preference which 
 a virtuous mind gives to one whom it sees worthy 
 of its choice, and to whom it feels specially 
 drawn to, by the mysterious sympathy which 
 kindred and congenial qualities call forth. 
 
156 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 An affection of this nature is, it may be said, 
 dependent on conditions, identical with the re- 
 quisites for married happiness. If it is the 
 exclusive property of a well-disciplined mind, it 
 will scarcely be conceived, it will certainly not 
 be indulged, except in the case of qualities which 
 are a pledge of nuptial felicity. Similarity in 
 some points, and suitability in others, as they 
 ought to be the preliminaries to the entertain- 
 ing .of an attachment, so shoidd they be to a 
 matrimonial union. 
 
 Perhaps, the only point in which absolute simi- 
 larity is essential is — the most important of 
 all — religious principle. The magnitude of the 
 interests involved in religion, is a sufficient rea- 
 son for this simple and unconditional exception. 
 And those who really believe its truths, and to 
 whom, therefore, they are of incalculably greater 
 moment than any other consideration, — to 
 whom they are likewise subjects of such habitual 
 reference, that there is no action or occurrence 
 in which they are not involved, — such will surely 
 not scruple to allow, that any disagreement upon 
 these vital points should be regarded a sufficient 
 disqualification in a tie so close. It is true, that 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 157 
 
 principle occasionally yields to the persuasives of 
 love; that, in some cases, the apparent smallness 
 of the difference — in others the more illusive, 
 but perhaps the more prevailing, plea, the pros- 
 pect of a beneficial influence, and the assurance 
 so seldom, alas ! realized, that such sway must 
 be effectual, has been urged too successfully. 
 But the general result has been, not such as to 
 favour the trial. It has been, with but few ex- 
 ceptions, what indeed, sound judgment would 
 expect ; but what hope, founded on deceitful 
 premises, ventured to contradict. 
 
 It should seem, however, impossible for any, 
 who feel the importance of religion, and, at the 
 same time, respect the intimacy of the marriage 
 bond, to allow a doubt upon the subject. It is 
 certainly impossible for those, who have expe- 
 rienced the blessing of entire community of 
 thought and spirit, on the sentiment nearest 
 their hearts, to suppose that happiness can be 
 realized without it. Even on the lesser points 
 of religious faith, unless there be unanimity, 
 there will be little comfort. Other subjects 
 admit of difference of opinion : politics have, 
 without mischief, divided the domestic hearth : 
 
158 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 but religion, unless it be regarded altogether 
 with indifference — religion, in all particulars of 
 belief, discipline,^and conduct — should be of one 
 complexion, and should, in its internal influence, 
 cement a union, which it has hallowed by its 
 sanction and its rites. 
 
 The greatest mystery of Christian faith is 
 shadowed forth by this earthly tie : and, to the 
 experience of those whose hearts are thus united, 
 are addressed many of the most pathetic appeals 
 of Divine tenderness. But if the connection 
 be thus honoured ; if it be selected as the image 
 of that sublime conjunction, of which the initial 
 vows are the security of the affianced Church on 
 earth, and the consummation will be her tran- 
 scendent joy in her perfected state of glory ; it 
 is a bond to be religiously and seriously con- 
 tracted. And those who have chosen the 
 same heavenward path, who prepare for similar 
 conflicts, seek like consolations, and anticipate 
 the same rest, — they truly are fellow helpers. 
 Their association will be a mutual strength, and 
 their union will he for ever. For they will look 
 upon each other’s faces before the tlirone of 
 God ; they will recognize, even in the glorified 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 159 
 
 form, the features that were once so dear ; and 
 even their perfected joy will be enhanced, by 
 their companionship in bliss with the sharer of 
 their earthly pilgrimage. 
 
 Religion is, of course, the guarantee for con- 
 duct. And it is happy when we are furnished 
 with such a pledge. In spite of the faults which 
 may blemish a sincere profession, and which 
 Christians themselves deplore ; in spite, too, of 
 the occasional fallacy of some pretensions ; the 
 evidence which bespeaks religious px’inciple, is 
 satisfactorily presumptive of its practical fruits. 
 Nevertheless, minor incidents are so influential 
 in determining happiness ; and, in married life, 
 there is such perpetual collision in these details ; 
 that, unless, besides the indispensable agreement 
 in one great point, there is congeniality in lesser 
 particulars, much risk must still remain as to 
 the felicity of the union. 
 
 There is moreover this danger, — that, while 
 the broad features of individual difference are 
 clearly marked, and strike even casual observers, 
 the thousand little particulars of manners and 
 habits appear only when familiarity takes off 
 the veil, and discloses either the amiabilities or 
 
160 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 the blemishes which distinguish character. Ex- 
 perience daily proves that frequent and even 
 intimate social intercourse will not always as- 
 certain points of essential importance in domes- 
 tic life. Were this consideration, indeed, duly 
 weighed, young persons would be more . apt 
 to hesitate, before they relinquished their pa- 
 rental home, even though it might be not 
 quite a happy one; — before they exchanged 
 a lot, of which they, at least, had felt the 
 worst, for one, of whose discomforts they only 
 know, that, whatever they may be, they are 
 irremediable. 
 
 Without, however, dwelling on forebodings, 
 which might, if indulged, effectually prevent the 
 marriage union, it is right to be prepared for 
 trials which few can escape. Differences of 
 opinion, and of taste, and infirmities of temper, 
 ought, in some measure, to be anticipated ; and 
 the duties of the marriage-state to be entered 
 on, with the expectation that they will require 
 concession and sacrifice. It is, nevertheless, 
 prudent to be satisfied as to the general suit- 
 ability of one, whose claim, henceforth, will be 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 161 
 
 so imperative; and to calculate, as far as maj' 
 be, the probability of future adaptation. 
 
 Temper, whilst it has a very material bearing 
 on the complexion of domestic life, is, perhaps, 
 the most difficult point of any to ascertain. It 
 is not always the apparently good-humoured, 
 that have the most agreeable temper : neither 
 the seemingly severe that are always most hard 
 to please. Not unfrequently the latter are, to 
 those they love, the most uniformly tender ; 
 and are less subject to caprice, than others 
 who appear more indulgent. Without, how- 
 ever, any intention to deceive, the lover has 
 the advantage of the most favourable light, and 
 the slight annoyances which, in married inter- 
 course, may produce irritation, occasion not the 
 ruffling of the brow in the halcyon days of 
 courtship. 
 
 Similar tempers are not always the most suit- 
 able. On the contrary, as attachment often 
 springs up between persons of dissimilar dispo- 
 sitions, so the points in which they differ at 
 times appear to suit them specially to each 
 other. The sanguine is chastened by the sober; 
 and again, the hopeful spirit cheers the more 
 
 VOL. II. M 
 
162 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 anxious and desponding. A temper not easily 
 disturbed allays the heat of one who is irri- 
 table, and if the easiness of the former borders 
 on carelessness or indolence, it may be rendered 
 more alert and scrupulous by the sensitiveness 
 with which it is associated. 
 
 But some dispositions will scarcely coalesce. 
 It has been remarked that vain persons fall foul 
 of one another even in ordinary conversation. If 
 the tendency be to a particular fault, a like 
 failing will doubtless be but an indifferent cor- 
 rective ; and, if we lay our account for some 
 imperfection, it will be wise to avoid that, at 
 least, to which we are ourselves the most prone. 
 Even, though the union of extreme contrasts 
 appears unnatural, it gives, on the whole, a 
 fairer promise of agreement than the collision of 
 similar asperities. 
 
 The discei’nment which discovers from slight 
 indications peculiarities of temper, is, therefore, a 
 valuablegift; and should be improved to practical 
 use. It will render young people cautious of un- 
 worthily bestowing their preference ; and wUl set, 
 in good season, the watch upon their hearts. For 
 it is not, when the pledge is once given, that tlie 
 
MARKIAGE. 
 
 163 
 
 caution can be urged ; nor is it, when partiality 
 has closed the eye to all but recommendations, 
 that judgment can be fairly exercised. The mis- 
 take irretrievably made, it remains only for love 
 to excuse the faults, to which it once was blind. 
 
 The tastes and pm'suits of married persons, 
 must also, it is evident, be mutually of much 
 importance. In these, similarity is, in some 
 respects, desirable ; suitability almost essential. 
 Taste, in its extensive sense, has a reference to 
 persons and to things; and, as has been before 
 remarked, bears on almost every particular of 
 conduct. It has so much to do with the minutiae 
 of life, that, where tastes are wholly dissimilar, 
 they must perpetually be offending one another. 
 
 A mutual preference seems, itself, a guarantee 
 for similarity in taste. Still, it is sometimes 
 difficult to conjecture what attraction . can here 
 draw together persons so little capable of sym- 
 pathy. Perhaps it will be said, that such pairs 
 are happier than might be expected. But if 
 some licence be allowed for dissimilarity in mat- 
 ters of taste ; if the coalition may even be, to an 
 extent, mutually beneficial, — so that the fasti- 
 dious become less critical, — the over-refined, 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 more simple, — the exclusive more liberal, by 
 association with a counteracting bias, the dif- 
 ference should be in measure, rather than in 
 kind ; or at least there should be no jarring, even 
 in the disagreement. 
 
 In the same way, total dissimilarity in pur- 
 suit must be a bar to enjoyment; on the ground 
 that a participation in whatever interests and 
 occupies, is a stimulus to affection, and an in- 
 crease of social pleasure. A woman who has 
 no relish for intellectual entertainments will 
 assort but indifferently with a man of studious 
 pursuits : and again, if the superiority be on 
 the other side, — if the woman be possessed of 
 an enlarged and cultivated mind, — she will find 
 the mere idler, the unprofitable spendthrift of 
 ivhat she considers the most valnable talent, a 
 very unsuitable companion. 
 
 A certain diversity in married persons is 
 intended by nature, and is favourable to 
 mutual improvement. The sedentary student 
 will be agreeably enlivened by his vivacious 
 partner, if her vivacity be the expression 
 of an intelligent mind; and the woman of 
 elegant accomplishment will receive from the 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 165 
 
 superior sense, and more valuable attainments 
 of her husband a higher tone, and will herself 
 be stimulated to advance by her desire of assi- 
 milating herself to him. 
 
 And here it may be observed, that similarity 
 of pursuit may possibly bring together per- 
 sons otherwise unsuitable. There is a pecu- 
 liar fascination in sympathy ; and in ordinary 
 social intercourse, if we find we have a point 
 exclusively in common with any individual, 
 the attraction has a peculiar force. It has 
 not unfrequently been the basis of an attach- 
 ment which ought to rest upon more general 
 grounds. For it is not, because voices may 
 blend well in a Duet, or the Flute harmonize 
 the Piano-forte ; because assistance may be 
 acceptable in furnishing the mineralogical 
 cabinet, or in accomplishing the pleasant labours 
 of the Conservatory ; because even the cottage 
 or the school may be visited with mutual in- 
 tei’est, — that there is a promise of hai’mony for 
 life or an assurance of congeniality on points 
 involving daily interests. Inquiry, therefore, 
 should be directed far more to accordance of 
 character than to similarity upon special points ; 
 
 M 3 
 
166 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 for the latter will not compensate for any defi- 
 ciency in the former, and is, at best, but an 
 agreeable adjunct. 
 
 Besides accordance of mind and disposi- 
 tion, there are also some external cu’cum- 
 stances, in which suitability is, by no means, 
 unimportant. A marked difference in sta- 
 tion, especially if the superiority be on the 
 female side, is rarely a happy incident in the 
 marriage lot. However individual preference 
 may overlook such distinction, and plead for 
 its non-observance, it is not the part of wis- 
 dom to disregard it. Neither is it Chris- 
 tian prudence, to use religion as an apology 
 for connections, which, otherwise, would not 
 be thought of. A young woman, if she is 
 religious, should be the more careful to avoid 
 even the shadow of offence, and to prove 
 that her standard of propriety is higher, and 
 more strict that that of the world. For, in 
 some respects certainly, she is exposed to 
 peculiar danger. Her life is quiet, and she is 
 therefore more susceptible of tender and en- 
 during feeling. Her affections are called forth, 
 and, on the subject which chiefly engrosses 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 167 
 
 them, she is particularly accessible to sympathy. 
 Her circle is circumscribed ; and she is brought 
 into nearer intercourse with those who compose 
 it, than others whose acquaintance is more 
 general. Nor can it be denied, that reli- 
 gion authorises a kindliness between different 
 ranks, which breaks down the barriers of 
 caste, erected by worldly pride or fashion. 
 This may be, — and rightly; — but still the 
 Christian should never for a moment swerve 
 from that delicate decorum which marks correct 
 taste and sound principle. She should never, 
 in a point of such nice honour as marriage, occa- 
 sion regret to her best friends, or make them 
 feel that she has not done credit to her religious 
 profession. She should consider that her con- 
 duct, in this particular, is one of the most deci- 
 sive tests, by which the world tries her; and 
 that it will grant her only this indulgence, 
 — that it will judge her, by her own avowed 
 standard. 
 
 It is also important to a well-assorted mar- 
 riage, that the balance of nature be preserved, 
 and that the degree of superiority, incident to 
 the higher sex, should obtain in the matrimonial 
 M 4 
 
168 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 connection. This rule can rarely be infringed 
 without mischief. Manifest superiority in a 
 woman, either produces in her a feeling of dis- 
 respect towards him with whom she is associated, 
 destructive of the reverence essential to female 
 love ; or, at least, creates a suspicion, that such 
 want of reverence is entertained. Especially 
 when the superiority is in those mental quali- 
 ties in which the manly vigour ought to be 
 evinced ; — if, in spite of this disproportion, in 
 some instances, the unsuitability is not appa- 
 rent, it must be the result of great good sense 
 on the one hand, or of great good temper on 
 the other. 
 
 Again, if inferiority, not subordination, cha- 
 racterize the female side, the balance is equally 
 destroyed, and the probability of happiness 
 still more doubtful. For the affection which 
 will I'ender married life happy, is not the pass- 
 ing admiration of a pretty face, but the es- 
 teem which cherishes because it respects, and 
 grows because it discovers intrinsic qualities to 
 value. 
 
 It may be remarked, that if marriage is to 
 both parties a risk, it is especially so to a 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 169 
 
 woman; and peculiarly to a virtuous and reli- 
 gious woman. In one sense, indeed, the higher 
 her tone of feeling, the better regulated her 
 chai’acter; the greater the hazard. For, though 
 a woman of superior mind is enabled to en- 
 counter trial, and even to rise above it ; though 
 she can often smooth asperities, and so use her 
 influence, as to prevent and cure domestic dis- 
 comfort ; still, she is far more alive to the 
 sorrows arising from matrimonial unconge- 
 niality, than one of a less fine mould. She 
 knows, that her duty lies in submission ; that it 
 becomes her not to oppose, rarely to remonstrate; 
 that whilst she secretly deplores the causes of 
 her sorrow, she must lock them up in her own 
 bosom, and patiently endure what she cannot 
 remedy. Indifference cannot be her refuge ; 
 neither can she seek, in company and diver- 
 sion, to forget or to avoid her home ; she must 
 either be herself the soul and the solace of 
 married life, or the victim of conjugal unhap- 
 piness. 
 
 These are serious reflections; but they are 
 thei’efore the more necessary to be presented to 
 the mind. They should, at least, counteract 
 
170 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 any undue bias in favour of marriage, and 
 strengthen the conviction that, if the union be 
 not congenial, no motive of an extrinsic nature 
 should persuade to it. For, as it is the part 
 of woman to adapt herself to her husband, 
 let her ascertain, whilst still she is at liberty, 
 that such confoi’mity will be easy to her ; 
 that his opinions are generally of the same 
 tone with hers ; that his temper is suitable to 
 her; that his pursuits are not distasteful to 
 her: and, above all, that his affection is, for 
 herself , — having the pennanency of a principle, 
 rather than the transitoriness of a passion, based 
 upon acquaintance with her character, and upon 
 suitable qualities in his own. For such an at- 
 tachment, when really conceived, a woman can 
 scarcely be too grateful. It is the offering of a 
 virtuous heart, — a tribute willingly rendered 
 to the object of its preference; it is the link 
 appointed by the Author of all good, to bind 
 together the twin souls, which He has formed 
 for union. Surely it may be said that such 
 sympathy is one of the choicest gifts of Heaven, 
 — an influence, which, when it does bless the 
 upward journey, is as an emanation fi'om the 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 171 
 
 Fountain of bliss, and is a promise of a holier 
 bond, when Love shall be perfected. 
 
 There can be no doubt but that a happy 
 , marriage improves a woman’s character, and 
 renders her more influential, and more useful. 
 She is called, by it, to more important duties ; 
 she occupies a higher position, her interests are 
 multiplied, and her cares diverted from herself. 
 She finds also, in her husband, a guide, as well 
 as a protector ; an instructor, as well as a tender 
 friend. She is relieved from much responsibi- 
 lity, at the same time that she is rendered more 
 capable of encountering trial. 
 
 But, whatever may be the recommendations 
 of the marriage state, it will be the fault of the 
 unmarried if they do not employ their liberty 
 and leisure to purposes of real good. It rests 
 with themselves to avoid the failings to which 
 their station in society may be prone, and the in- 
 conveniences which are the consequence of such 
 defects. If they have wisely made their choice ; 
 if circumstances have not placed before them ^ 
 promise of happiness in married life ; or, if dis- 
 appointment have crossed their path, and fair 
 hopes, on the point of realization, have been 
 
172 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 withered ; it is for them to seek their pleasure in 
 the fulfilment of duty, and to win affection by 
 benevolence and kindness. It must not be for- 
 gotten that there are advantages peculiar to 
 single life; that it affords an immunity from 
 many cares, an opportunity for intellectual 
 pursuits, a power to do good extensively, which 
 married women may not enjoy. And if these 
 privileges are improved ; if cheerfulness and 
 benevolence characterize the temper ; there will 
 be no want of occupation, of happiness, or of 
 sympathy. The kind Sister, or Aunt, will be 
 always welcomed ; — she will be hailed, as the 
 agreeable companion — or the tender nurse; as 
 the participator in joy — or the sympathiser in 
 sorrow ; as the helper in business — or the 
 companion in affliction : she will be the read} 
 assistant in every good work ; — the children 
 will run to greet her arrival ; the poor will rise 
 up, and call her blessed. And if, in truth, as 
 we do see in some bright examples in our own 
 day, her energy grows with her desire of doing 
 good, and in the assiduous and pains-taking 
 efforts of Christian charity, she seems to forget 
 the weakness of her sex, she realizes, in one of 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 173 
 
 its most pleasing forms, primitive devotedness. 
 In pious exercises more spiritual, in self-denial 
 more mortified, in faith more pure, than any 
 of the cloistered nuns of the strictest hahit, 
 still her religion is without superstition, and her 
 sobriety without gloom. She is one of a holy 
 sisterhood, whose order is truly catholic; whose 
 vows are scriptural ; and whose voluntary ser- 
 vice is, the labour of love. 
 
174 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no period so critical in re- 
 spect of subsequent happiness, as the early years 
 of married life. Yet it is one in which there 
 is often a want of due consideration on either 
 side. Married persons frequently fall into 
 each other’s habits, or not, just as it may hap- 
 pen ; and are scarcely aware, what foundation 
 they are laying for future agreement or dis- 
 union ; till they stop to inquire, whether they 
 are, or are not, happy. 
 
 The predominant influence of one engrossing 
 sentiment, accounts, in great measure, for this 
 want of thought. As long as the feeling in 
 question is new, the character does not enjoy 
 its natural tone ; and ordinary motives have not 
 their usual sway. When it becomes habitual, 
 it is then so identified with the very being, that 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 175 
 
 though an important spring of action, it does 
 not interfere with other moral and intellectual 
 movements. 
 
 Besides, however the potency of the sentiment 
 of which we have been speaking, the change of 
 relation that takes place on marriage, renders it 
 not surprising that a woman should be less pre- 
 pared to act upon matured reflection, than 
 from immediate impulse : she finds herself left, 
 in many respects, to her own guidance ; at the 
 same time, suddenly invested with a new and 
 paramount duty. She is placed in a more pro- 
 minent station than any she has yet occupied ; 
 and she must feel, that her course is not only 
 untried, but doubtful ; and that many of the 
 conditions that should regulate it, are unknown. 
 
 The change of relation in the person most 
 important to herself, is that which probably 
 chiefly startles her. She is not quite prepared 
 for the difference between the lover and the hus- 
 band. Not that the former character is neces- 
 sarily put aside, because t,he other is assumed ; 
 but the assumption of the latter confers autho- 
 rity, where before there was only deference. 
 The change is external ; a change of circura- 
 
176 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 Stance, not an alteration in the individual. 
 But the contrast is so great ; and often so little 
 realized beforehand ; that it is not easy, for the 
 party whom it most affects, to reconcile herself 
 to it at once, and to persuade herself, that it 
 is only natural and necessary. 
 
 The difference also appears just in those little 
 points, which are perpetually occurring, and are 
 therefore always, as it were, present. The days 
 of attendance on a woman cease with the days 
 of courtship; — at least, if they do not, it is a 
 matter of indulgence, not of right. Her will, 
 her caprice, are no longer absolute : whatever 
 sway they have, is an indulgence ; and often an 
 indulgence that can not be yielded. She has 
 ceased to be the regulator : her wishes must give 
 place to more important interests; she cannot 
 be the petted child, whose eveiy conceit must 
 be gratified at the most costly price. 
 
 A woman runs a risk of being spoilt by 
 the flattering period that precedes marriage. 
 She is, of necessity, then, a first object ; and 
 custom has added to the homage which love 
 w'ould willingly render. An individual of a 
 family, who may before have been but little 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 177 
 
 considered, rises, at once, into importance ; and 
 the person whom she most values is ready to 
 execute the slightest expression of her will. 
 
 The contrast between this arbitrary power, 
 and the obedience incurred by marriage, is the 
 occasion often of disappointment ; and may 
 produce more serious mischief. It is only pru- 
 dent in a woman to prepare for the change; 
 and to remember, that when she promises sub- 
 mission, she abdicates supremacy. 
 
 The danger to a sensitive mind is, lest it 
 should interpret the change of relation into a 
 change of feeling ; and apprehend that there is 
 a decrease of tenderness, because there may be 
 some apparent diminution of attention. It is very 
 impoi’tant to happiness to discourage any such 
 idea ; for it torments the mind wdth imaginary 
 jealousies, and may produce a querulous dis- 
 content, which is always requiring to be soothed, 
 and is a most ti’oublesome ingredient in mar- 
 ried life. The part of wisdom undoubtedly is, 
 to dispense voluntarily with attentions which 
 might be burthensome to the giver, and to 
 render back in kind many that once were paid. 
 There will be no loss sustained by such consi- 
 
 VOL. II. N 
 
178 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 deration. Love, even after marriage, will be 
 prompt to render every social courtesy: and 
 the generous mind will be the more disposed to 
 make a sacrifice, when the effort is not claimed. 
 The wife should feel that, from the time she 
 enters into the nuptial contract, her husband’s 
 gratification and convenience should be as much 
 studied by her, as hers once were by him ; 
 and that in all the lesser matters which fall 
 under her direction, she ought to provide for 
 his comfort, and facilitate his arrangements. 
 
 The sooner that a woman can divest herself 
 of any unreasonable expectations which the 
 devotion of the lover may have excited, the 
 greater the probability of her securing perma- 
 nent attachment. Courtship is a dream, from 
 which it is better to awake voluntarily than to 
 be reluctantly roused. It is better to return to 
 ordinary habits — to the sober and calm ful- 
 filment of daily business, in the place as- 
 signed by duty — than to cherish an artificial 
 excitement, and cling to a false position. 
 
 However tender a husband may be, and how- 
 ever genuine and constant his love, an excessive 
 claim upon his time or attentions is, at least, a 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 179 
 
 dangerous experiment. It may alienate his 
 affection ; but if not, — if allowed and complied 
 with to its full extent, — the indulgence is by no 
 means beneficial to either party. The wife is 
 not the happier for the licence of her fancies, 
 and her exactions render her love rather a bur- 
 then than a blessing. Her husband, in every day’s 
 detail, finds himself called on to sacrifice some 
 duty or engagement; and is hampered and im- 
 peded, because he prefers yielding to this con- 
 jugal thraldom, to appearing, for a moment, 
 unkind. But order cannot be reversed with- 
 out mischief. • Whether the trial to gain the 
 ascendant be direct, or whether it be under 
 the ingenious covert of an overwrought sen- 
 sibility, it is equally impolitic, and, if suc- 
 cessful, equally to be lamented. On one side 
 or other, there must be concession, even between 
 those who love; especially when the inter- 
 course is perpetual: nor, as has been already 
 said, can there be a doubt, in married life, 
 where the concession ought to be. Though 
 made, almost imperceptibly, — for the less display 
 there is in submission or service of any sort, 
 the more grateful will it be to the recipient, 
 
180 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 — it should be not the less habitual; and, in- 
 deed, ought to be so much a matter of course, 
 that the evenness of temper, and happiness of 
 lot, which are the consequence of such sub- 
 ordination, should be the only indication of its 
 exercise. 
 
 It is a proof of judgment in a woman, 
 when she bestows attention on her husband’s 
 character; when she sets herself to study his 
 peculiarities, and to consult them to the ut- 
 most of her power. This is the management 
 which is not only allowable, but praiseworthy ; 
 for its object is, not the obtaining of sway, but 
 the promotion of mutual felicity. 
 
 An inattention to these points will convert 
 into faults what are merely characteristics : for 
 it is in these individualities that there is the 
 greatest sensitiveness; and, if they are perpe- 
 tually offended, they will become morbidly 
 irritable. 
 
 By the regard paid to them will the sin- 
 cerity of attachment be estimated ; and if 
 they refer, as they often do, to minutim of con- 
 duct, it is felt, that these are just the oppor- 
 tunities in which the wife may show her sense 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 181 
 
 of the more important services for which she is 
 a debtor. 
 
 It has been remarked that, even in happy 
 marriages, the first year is not to the wife the 
 happiest. And it may well so be. Where 
 there is love, there will, no doubt, be a mutual 
 and an increasing conformity ; and a complete 
 knowledge of character will render adapta- 
 tion more easy, and more successful. Such 
 acquaintance will render a woman also more 
 secure : she will have ascertained the extent of 
 peculiarities, about which, at their first discovery, 
 she may have felt some solicitude, and her own 
 power of complying with, or regulating them. 
 Thence confidence will be the result of ex- 
 perience, as well as of affection ; and any ap- 
 prehension she may have entertained, proceeding 
 either from self-diffidence or from fear of un- 
 suitability, will be set at rest. 
 
 A judicious influence will turn to good 
 account peculiarities in temper. It will view 
 them in the best light, and improve them to 
 the best advantage. It will yield willingly 
 and at once, when such concession is a duty ; 
 will soothe, -when soothing may be attempted: 
 
 N 3 
 
182 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 will Stimulate and sympathize when zeal is 
 laudable. And if there be infirmity, such an 
 influence will be exercised with the happiest 
 effect. Causes of irritation will be avoided; 
 and, instead of exasperating by opposition, 
 a wife, by compliance and sympathy, as far as 
 they can be carried, will allay excitement, and, 
 in the end, persuade. 
 
 There is no point so small, which, if it be a 
 husband’s fancy, is not worth attending to. 
 Many persons, of superior mind, are precise 
 in trifling arrangements. Individual comfort 
 often depends on very little matters. It is for a 
 woman to observe how far such things affect her 
 husband; and, in dress, and in household ap- 
 pointments, as well as more important matters, 
 if she can discover his preference, she should 
 endeavour to gratify it, rather than to please 
 herself. This is a small tribute of love ; but it 
 marks the sentiment as much as many a greater 
 act. 
 
 The prominence into which a young married 
 woman is brought is often trying to her. And 
 no one will be more interested in her social 
 popularity than her husband. It is gratifying to 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 183 
 
 him to know that she is liked, especially by his 
 own friends. With reference, indeed, to these, 
 it will most likely be her wish as it is her duty, 
 to endeavour to gain their esteem. She will 
 not desire to separate her husband from them, 
 or, in any way, to diminish his regard for them ; 
 but, considering how valuable true friends are, 
 will rather strengthen the bond, and will con- 
 ciliate their interest for herself, as one identified 
 with the object of their mutual affection. She 
 will desire to adopt her husband’s friends 
 as her friends, and his family as her family; 
 and to render to his relations, according to 
 their several claims, that duty and deference, 
 which will make them feel that they have not 
 lost, but gained, a member. The disposition 
 in families ordinarily is to welcome, with 
 kindness and with interest, the new claimant 
 to their protection and love. It will, in most 
 cases, be her own fault if that kindness di- 
 minishes. But, if she receives their advances 
 with indifference ; if she so engrosses her hus- 
 band, as to alienate him from ties that once 
 were the nearest; if, in hospitality, or in other 
 little matters of attention, she shows a marked 
 N 4; 
 
184 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 preference to her own kindred; if the counsel 
 of her second parents, and the proffered love of 
 the circle into which she has been engrafted, 
 are evidently little valued, is it surprising that 
 favour on their parts should be withdrawn, 
 or that it should even be converted into cold- 
 ness and distrust ? 
 
 Even in society there is generally a pre- 
 possession in favour of a bride. She is viewed 
 with indulgence, and wdth a disposition to 
 discover her best features. But, there must 
 not be, on her part, a carelessness of pleasing; 
 she must not, for a moment think, that, because 
 she is married, the object in gaining good opi- 
 nions is realized, and that she need no longer 
 seek to conciliate. A married woman has cer- 
 tainly stronger motives than another to render 
 her desirous to please. Not only will her hus- 
 band be gratified by the approbation bestowed 
 upon his choice, but as he is in a manner iden- 
 tified with her, she, by her own conduct and 
 manners, either gains or loses suffrages for 
 him. She should, therefore, consider that now 
 is the critical time, when she may strengthen a 
 favourable impression ; when, as she will pro- 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 185 
 
 bably be thrown in a new sphere, she may fix 
 herself in the esteem of others. She must not 
 content herself with inanimately occupying her 
 place; with exhibiting a graceful appearance 
 or a faultless attire. Her manners should be- 
 speak favour ; she should enrich her conversa- 
 tion with whatever information she possesses, 
 — not for display, but to aid in social en- 
 tertainment; and she should bear her part 
 with simplicity and kindness, neither presuming 
 upon her new dignity, nor giving way to 
 reserve. 
 
 Much judgment may be evinced by married 
 women in their conformity to the station, 
 whatever it be, to which their husbands’ situation 
 in society entitles them. There is one charac- 
 ter, which the quiet graces of a woman peculiarly 
 adorn — that of a clergyman’s wife. And if any 
 where, surely here, humbleness of mind, bene- 
 volence of spirit, affability of address, should be 
 exemplified, and should characterize the ho- 
 noured helpmate of ministerial labour. It is 
 her’s to introduce, or to accompany the sacred 
 message with whatever may most suitably re- 
 commend it ; to gain the hearts of the tender 
 
186 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 of the flock, and to win the ear of the aged and 
 the sick ; to gather round her the willing helpers 
 of her own sex, and to take the lead herself in 
 active benevolence ; to be the ready friend of 
 the unprotected, and the counsellor of those 
 who need advice ; and, above all, to adorn her- 
 self, as the holy women of old, with the jewel- 
 lery of the Christian casket, and to afford, in 
 her own person, no unfair specimen of the result 
 of principles with which domestic instruction 
 must render her familiar. 
 
 It is not enough for a woman that she does 
 not lose ground in her husband’s esteem ; it 
 should be her ambition to advance, more and 
 more, in his good opinion. The sentiment with 
 which those, whose attachment may be equally 
 sincere, regard tbeir wives, is veiy various ; and 
 their conduct towai’ds them proportionably dif- 
 ferent. A husband may exliibit towards his 
 wife much tenderness, but may yet make but 
 little account of her judgment; or he may treat 
 her with indulgence, but may entertain towards 
 her but little deference ; or he may select her as 
 the companion of his lighter hours, but, in his 
 more thoughtful moods, may not seek her 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 187 
 
 society, nor allow her to participate in his 
 weightier interests and more serious reflections. 
 This will be very unsatisfactory to an attached 
 partner, and would seem the result of unfit- 
 ness in her to partake her husband’s counsels. 
 It arises ordinarily from a deficiency of those 
 moral and mental qualities which, if they do 
 not place woman on a level with the superior 
 sex, fit her at least to be their associate. And 
 it should be the endeavour of the wife to con- 
 vince her husband, that she is worthy of his 
 consideration; and that her endowments are 
 such as not only entitle her to his love, but 
 as may z’ender her, even in cases of difficulty, 
 perhaps a better counsellor to him, than any 
 other guide. 
 
 An important feature in female character, 
 and one of which the want is apt to be sus- 
 pected, is energy. Energy of mind is essential 
 to the achievement of any thing really great; 
 and, whether in conducting arrangements which 
 fall peculiarly within the woman’s sphere, or in 
 aiding her husband’s purposes, it is a property 
 highly to be valued. 
 
 Even a young unmarried person will have 
 
188 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 opportunities of displaying energj' of character : 
 and men are so accustomed to regard the sex 
 as incapable of power, that it is for the wdfe to 
 prove that she is not wanting in resolution. A 
 thousand daily incidents supply the test. Let 
 her, in her own pursuits, display alacrity ; in 
 the conduct of her family, firmness ; in the pro- 
 secution of business, vigour ; in every unlooked 
 for crisis, presence of mind; in efforts of dutv, 
 perseverance ; and her character will rise, above 
 the conception which the lover may have en- 
 tertained, and will realize what the husband 
 desires and wants in his friend and coadjutor. 
 
 A woman of energy is often of incalculable 
 value to her husband. Be he engaged in the 
 labours of his pi’ofession — be he a student, little 
 disposed to take part in the ordinary business 
 of life — a w'oman of vigorous mind will satis- 
 factorily transact affairs which are burthensome 
 to him, and will relieve him from all anxiety 
 with regard to those of her own department. 
 The welfare of both husband and family is, 
 in this way, almost dependent on the woman. 
 If she possesses strength of character, she 
 infuses life into every department; she allows 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 189 
 
 nothing to flag ; she sees to the efficiency of 
 subordinate agents ; and she provides for the 
 good arrangement and economy of the whole 
 establishment. 
 
 And if she also proves that she is capable of 
 higher efforts, — that she can apply the energy 
 she exerts on domestic affairs, to subjects which 
 engage the powers of her husband’s mind, — he 
 will not exclude her from sharing in his more 
 serious thoughts, and graver burthens. He 
 will be glad to acquaint her with his re- 
 solves, and to confide to her his perplexities ; for 
 he will feel assured that he will find in her no 
 vacillating adviser, no drag on his highest pur- 
 poses, no w'eakener of his resolution. 
 
 “ ’T is never woman’s part 
 
 Out of her fond misgivings to perplex 
 
 The fortunes of the man to whom she cleaves : 
 
 ’Tis hers to weave all that she has of fair 
 And bright in the dark meshes of their web 
 Inseparate from their windings.” 
 
 Talfourd’s Ion. 
 
 A woman will show her strength of mind in the 
 endurance of the pains and ills of life. Sickness 
 is a sore burthen ; and it is, not unfrequently, 
 a woman’s lot. It depends, however, much upon 
 
190 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 herself, either to alleviate, or to increase the 
 evil, as it affects her own and her husband’s 
 happiness. A calm endurance of what cannot 
 be relieved, and the not yielding to weakness 
 which may be striven against, are amongst the 
 best restoratives to health, and the most effectual 
 antidotes of disease; and they lighten the weari- 
 someness of the sick room to all who are its 
 visitants. An invalid wife must be a great trial 
 to a husband : but greatly is that trial increased, 
 when there is — we will not say irritability or 
 impatience, for this is manifestly wrong — but still 
 no effort to overcome languor, to make the best of 
 returning ease, to shake off the habits which 
 indisposition has contracted. It cannot some- 
 times but be remarked in the married con- 
 nexion, that the wife is but an indifferent part- 
 ner ; and yet, no fault can be found with her, 
 but that she is always sick. The remark would 
 scarcely be made, were there not moral weak- 
 ness, as well as bodily ailment ; were there not 
 a selfish indulgence and a fanciful fostering of 
 pialadies, which a woman of greater fortitude 
 would make but little account of ; were there 
 not a perpetual demand on her husband as a 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 191 
 
 nurse, and a tyranny, in some respects the most 
 trying, exercised towards him, the tyranny of 
 tenderness. But when, on the contrary, the 
 wife meets both the lesser and the greater ills 
 of life with courage; when suffering scarcely af- 
 fects the serenity of her countenance ; when 
 toothache, cold, and headache, are borne with 
 greater patience by her than by her husband ; 
 and when, in the more serious calamities which 
 afflict her mortal frame, her mind still keeps up, 
 the smile of resignation plays upon her lips, and 
 hope imparts its lustre to her eye; then, the more 
 she endures, the more she is beloved ; for her 
 sick chamber exhibits greater cheerfulness and 
 content than many a scene of apparent gaiety. 
 
 The same energy will enable her to sur- 
 mount difficulties or reverses. The spirit of 
 a husband is strengthened, when, in the part- 
 ner of his lot, he finds one ready to pre- 
 pare for change of fortune, or to conform to 
 it; who, in emergency, is not terrified or inca- 
 pacitated ; but who has wisdom to discern, and 
 courage to pursue the line of duty; willingly 
 sacrificing luxury, or outward show, and be- 
 ing ashamed of nothing but of doing wrong. 
 
192 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 Such a woman may often rescue her family from 
 embarrassment, or retrieve an almost ruined 
 fortune ; and, at least, will practically prove, 
 that she has a treasure which is beyond the 
 reach of earthly change, and that this effec- 
 tually guards her against undue depression on 
 the loss of present wealth. 
 
 Dependence, it has been remarked, is a cha- 
 racteristic of woman, and is one of her attrac- 
 tive features. But, however desirable it may 
 be, that she should not lose this feminine re- 
 commendation, — and that she should, when mar- 
 ried, show the value she sets on the support of 
 her husband, — there is no reason why dependence 
 should become helplessness ; or why her claim 
 for assistance should render her little better 
 than an incumbrance to others. A young married 
 woman should not indulge the idea that she 
 can do nothing for herself. On the contrary, 
 she should uniformly consider how she can 
 relieve her husband; in what she need not 
 trouble him ; how far she can cany on his 
 plans, and forward his arrangements, without 
 drav/ing upon him for help. She should remem- 
 ber, that every unnecessary claim on him is an 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 193 
 
 interruption to his essential business ; and that 
 the more she asks for aid in trivial matters, the 
 less capable must he think her of important un- 
 dertakings. 
 
 It is, certainly, much to be lamented, when a 
 young wife yields to a timidity or listlessness, 
 which prevents her from making independ- 
 ent efforts ; when she nurses the nervousness 
 which unfits her for all useful services ; when, 
 whatever be the call upon her, she is herself in 
 need of aid ; and, from never having thought of 
 exerting herself, is incapable of doing so, when 
 the emergency arrives. Incidents daily occur 
 which mark either the helplessness or capability 
 of every woman. Sudden alarms, trifling acci- 
 dents, throw one unto uncontrollable agitation ; 
 whilst another calmly avoids or relieves the mis- 
 chief. One is unable to put forth a hand to 
 help herself; the other, without appearance of 
 effort, is ready to help all besides. One cannot 
 stir without support; the other is continually 
 employed in some useful or benevolent purpose. 
 One reclines upon a sofa, establishing no claim 
 on others but her own incapacity ; the other by 
 her perpetual good offices lays up a debt, which 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 is willingly paid on demand, and thus provides, 
 in the best way, for her own future exigencies. 
 
 It not unfrequently happens, that a young 
 married woman is oftener alone, than she has 
 previously been accustomed to be ; and that she 
 misses the family circle, with which she has 
 hitherto been surrounded. Let not this, how- 
 ever, depress her spirits ; or render her too de- 
 pendent on her husband for entertainment. 
 Let it least of all lead her to seek, too fre- 
 quently, relief in company. One of the first 
 things she should learn, is to be happy in 
 solitude ; to find, there, occupation for herself ; 
 and to prove to her husband, that, however she 
 may enjo}' social intercourse, and especially de- 
 sire his presence, she needs not either a sister 
 or a friend to entertain her, when he is away. 
 
 It is obvious that the solitude which is the 
 frequent lot of a young married woman, may 
 be made peculiarly serviceable to her. In these 
 hours of retirement, she may summon back to 
 serious reflection thoughts which have been too 
 mucb scattered upon the passing concerns of 
 life. She may consider calmly her position and 
 its duties ; and may re-discipline her mind 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 195 
 
 with a reference to her altered circumstances. 
 If, hitherto, she has thought too lightly, she 
 may now consider, that the time past must suf- 
 fice for frivolity and carelessness, for that she 
 has already passed one stage in her journey 
 through life; — or, whatever may have been the 
 temper of her early youth, she should now 
 reflect, that she is incurring obligations more 
 serious, duties more important ; that, if pre- 
 viously she has been merged in a family, she 
 henceforward stands forth as an individual; 
 and that, as formerly she has followed, so now 
 will she have to give the example and the tone. 
 Let not any young woman complain of solitude, 
 nor flee from it. It may be, to her, a most pre- 
 cious opportunity. Only let her profitably im- 
 prove it : and her solitude will not be lonely, 
 nor her retirement dull. Her spirit will be 
 calmed by it ; she will learn to examine her own 
 heart, and to correct faults of which reflection 
 may convict her, and tempers for which, at the 
 moment of indulgence, she may not have thought 
 herself to blame. She will have time to medi- 
 tate on all that is most serious : and she will 
 ,not think the period of retirement irksome, nor 
 o 2 
 
196 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 repine that she has such seasons of communing 
 with herself. 
 
 “ On man, on nature, and on human life 
 Musing in solitude, she will oft perceive ' 
 
 Fair trains of imagery before her rise, 
 
 Accompanied by feelings of delight. 
 
 Pure, with no unpleasing sadness mixt.”* 
 
 To be thus independent, to find entertain- 
 ment so readily, and at such little cost, is as- 
 suredly preferable to looking for diversion else- 
 where — in unprofitable visits — or in idle 
 discourse. There can be no question, but that 
 in proportion as a woman is satisfied ■ndth 
 home, will she be respected by her husband. 
 She can scarcely please him better than by 
 proving that she has hours of self-enjojunent ; 
 that she does not flutter about, from house to 
 house, to get rid of time ; that, even in London, 
 in the scene of all social charms, though the 
 consultation be long, or the debate late, she pre- 
 fers a quiet evening, with no companion but her 
 book, to the interruptions and excitements of 
 company. 
 
 * Wordsworth. 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 197 
 
 The benefit, however, derived from solitude 
 must depend upon the use made of it; and this 
 involves the nature of the occupations pur- 
 sued. It is possible to spend many hours alone, 
 and yet gain no wisdom. A woman may 
 dream away her life in dulness, as well as trifle 
 it away in perpetual diversion. Unless solitude 
 is improved by reflection — reflection exercised 
 on subjects worthy of thought — the mind will 
 gain nothing from the tranquillity it enjoys. 
 Rather it will become more listless, and more 
 inert ; and will find itself unequal to any thing 
 but a few family arrangements, and trifling 
 cares. 
 
 And we may infer from this the advantage of 
 early intellectual culture. Much has been said 
 upon the benefit of early study; but its full profit 
 is not reaped until maturer years. It is then 
 that the mind, accustomed to application, finds 
 itself furnished with ideas and with topics for its 
 further research. It is then, too, that it dis- 
 covers, that whatever leisure can be com- 
 manded, may be spent in prosecuting inquiries 
 — the first steps of which have excited the desire 
 of progress, — and in exploring the interior of 
 o 3 
 
198 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 that Temple of science, of which the view, 
 caught from the vestibule, has rendered us 
 enamoured. 
 
 Every argument in favour of mental improve- 
 ment will be felt to have gathered strength, as 
 years advance. Our regret will only be, that 
 we have not made better use of our early oppor- 
 tunities; that the point from which we have 
 again to set out, is not more in advance ; and 
 that the intellect has not been invigorated by 
 the more ardent pursuit of valuable knowledge. 
 For we shall then experience its true importance; 
 and discover, that in proportion to our diligence 
 and the seriousness of our application, will be 
 our habits of industry, and the better fitted shall 
 we be to conduct ordinary business. That such 
 benefit may accrue to women from intellectual 
 pursuits, is so justly and eloquently urged by 
 one, who did not refuse a portion of his time 
 specially to their improvement, that we cannot 
 but be glad to avail ourselves of his authority. 
 It is thus, that Sir H. Davy advocates the ap- 
 plication of the female mind to knowledge, in 
 an inaugural Lecture addressed to the ladies of 
 Ireland: — “ By accustoming the mind to strict 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 199 
 
 reasoning, and minute observation in matters of 
 fact, the judgment is strengthened, and rendered 
 more acute and distinct in its application to 
 common affairs. Unhealthy sensibilities are de- 
 stroyed, and the imagination refined and exalted. 
 The fashionable education is principally directed 
 to those accomplishments which please only in 
 that season of youth which, in itself, is full of 
 fascinations ; whilst it neglects the more solid 
 endowments which give a dignity and charm to 
 the advanced periods of life ; and which, inde- 
 pendent of external advantages, are exalted and 
 rendered delightful by time.” He further adds : — 
 “ The standard of the consideration and import- 
 ance of females in society is, I believe, likewise 
 the standard of civilisation. The leisure of the 
 higher classes is so great, their influence so 
 strong, that it is almost their duty to endeavom* 
 to awaken and keep alive the love of improve- 
 ment. It is only ignorance or selfishness, which 
 can wish to prevent the diffusion of knowledge. 
 It is the grand privilege of human nature; it is 
 the lamp which guides our steps amidst the 
 obscurity of things; which preserves the mind 
 awake to its just interests ; carrying it, from 
 o 4 
 
200 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 transient and trifling objects, to those which 
 are permanent and useful ; affording a noble 
 employment in youth, a delightful consolation 
 in age; teaching that, in all things, there is 
 order, and harmony, and wisdom ; exalting the 
 sensual into the intellectual, and the intel- 
 lectual into the moral and religious being.” * 
 There can be no doubt but that, by such 
 knowledge, a woman renders herself a far more 
 suitable companion to her husband, provided he 
 is himself addicted to intellectual pursuits, than 
 she can be, if she occupies herself only with in- 
 ferior objects. What congeniality can there be, 
 between a man, who not only by profession is a 
 student, but whose vacant hours are cherished 
 for purposes of mental improvement, and the 
 woman, who lives the day long, without one 
 elevated thought, — and who, if she ever reads, 
 selects her book with a view only to passing en- 
 tertainment. Few can be the topics of mutual 
 interest, and scanty the materials for convers- 
 ation. The husband naturally abridges the hours 
 of domestic society, and, retiring to his own 
 
 * Dr. Davy’s Life of Sir Humphry Davy. 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 201 
 
 thoughts, leaves his partner to the petty occu- 
 pations, and the vacuity of mind, which are, to 
 her, habitual. 
 
 It will be found that the respect entertained 
 by a husband for the wife he loves, is, in great 
 measure, determined by the pursuits she chooses. 
 It is from her own selection, that he judges of 
 the character of her mind. If he sees, that, 
 when left to her own guidance, she apportions 
 her leisure to worthy objects; that in knowledge 
 she seeks an elevated range ; that the employ- 
 ments she proposes to herself are morally and 
 intellectually beneficial; he will entertain for 
 her a far higher sentiment, than if the choice of 
 her occupations indicated an inferior mind. It 
 is from thus becoming acquainted with the true 
 dignity of her character, that friendship will 
 become engrafted upon love, and that these 
 sentiments will mutually fortify each other. 
 
 In short, it should be, as has been already 
 stated, the object of the married woman to raise 
 herself, by every means, in the esteem of her 
 husband. This is her wisdom as well as duty ; 
 and thus, far more than by insisting upon her 
 own way, or urging her own claims, she will 
 
202 
 
 THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 secure a voice in her husband’s counsels, and 
 a place in his tenderest consideration. 
 
 A Christian wife, of course, knows, that the 
 duty she has incurred to her husband is first in 
 the list of social obligations. It is illustrative 
 of the mercy and harmony of the Divine plan, 
 that, to the virtuous, happiness should be, not 
 merely the future reward of duty, but its con- 
 comitant. And in no relation is this more 
 strikingly exemplified, than in the marriage 
 union. Obedience, in a woman, is only the 
 expression of her love; and her love is her 
 felicity. 
 
 And, as she will not have undertaken so 
 binding a duty without an assurance that its 
 performance will involve no obstruction to the 
 first homage of her heart, so will she find that 
 her Christian progress may be advanced by an 
 association with one qualified to guide, as well 
 as accompany, her journey towards heaven. No 
 doubt, the way will be rendered more smooth, 
 more sweet, by companionship ; the services of 
 Christian piety more glowing, and full of life, by 
 sympathy ; the pure flame, kindled in each, by 
 the celestial ray, will quicken by conjunction ; 
 
THE YOUNG WIFE. 
 
 203 
 
 and the fruition in part vouchsafed, and in its 
 fulness assured, of Him, — the Wisdom, and 
 the Truth, — will be more nearly attained by 
 united efforts to understand revealed mysteries, 
 and to “ know the Love which passeth know- 
 ledge.” 
 
 Both will feel that their affection binds them 
 to heaven, not to earth ; and that, whilst it is the 
 solace of their lives, it is no idol-worship ; but 
 identified with their desire for Him, whom in 
 all created good they taste — Himself the un- 
 created object of their soul’s immortal thirst. 
 For — 
 
 “ they can find no rest 
 
 In that which perishes, nor will they lend 
 Their hearts to aught which doth on Time depend. 
 ’Tis sense, unbridled will, and not true Love, 
 Which kills the soul : Love betters what is best 
 Even here below, but more in Heav’n above.”* 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
204 
 
 . CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 There is no sentiment so suddenly called 
 forth as maternal affection. It is, in fact, as we 
 all know, instinctive, and, therefore, common to 
 almost every order of animal being ; but, in 
 the human subject, it is far more than a mere 
 natural impulse. As such, it may even be 
 weaker in us, than in inferior creatures ; — but 
 reason and principle add so greatly to its power, 
 that it becomes one of the strongest and most 
 influential passions, of which we are susceptible. 
 
 Maternal affection, however suddenly ex- 
 cited, gathers strength from exercise. It is, at 
 first, so new and strange a feeling, that half its 
 solicitudes are not known. The young mother, 
 as she first caresses the little one that claims her 
 love, is ignorant in great measure of the care 
 it needs, and of the dangers that surround it. 
 She knows but a small part of the attention that 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 205 
 
 will be required from her. But as the very 
 demand for such care engenders tenderness, so 
 every fresh display of it augments the feeling. 
 The experienced mother, an adept in vigilance, 
 loves as she watches, and watches as she loves ; 
 and whilst she tends her youngest nursling with 
 provident fondness, bestows on each of her 
 children the growing fulness of her matured 
 affection. 
 
 The knowledge, indeed, of all that a beloved 
 object stands in need of, and of its dependence, 
 increases the affection, on which it makes its 
 claim. Thus, the Divine Parent considers the 
 innumerable wants and perils of the living souls 
 who owe to him their being; and as his ac- 
 quaintance with their necessities is infinite, so, 
 too, is his solicitude and love. 
 
 Maternal affection is an intense feeling. 
 None but mothers know its depths. That it 
 should be a sentiment, profound and lasting, is 
 beneficently ordered ; for such a feeling only 
 will sustain the, trials it must undergo. The 
 watchings, the toil, which accompany even the 
 earliest years of infancy, would exhaust an af- 
 fection less ardent. But the well, from whence 
 
206 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 the spring is started, is fathomless; and the 
 stream perennial, and without ebb. And if, 
 in the eternity of Divine affection only, is to 
 be found faithfulness more constant, do we not 
 perceive from such comparison, how powerful is 
 the mother’s love. “ Can a woman forget her 
 sucking child ? . . . Yes, she may forget ; but 
 I will not forget thee.” 
 
 There is much sublimity in maternal love. 
 Its unweariedness, its self-devotion, its forti- 
 tude, belong to the highest points of human 
 character, and are themselves virtues which 
 exalt the soul. And, to take a lower view ; — it 
 is a graceful, a poetic sentiment. We think of 
 it in association with the graces of infancy 
 which call it forth, with the first smile which 
 repays the mother’s care, the first utterance 
 that lisps her cherished name. Such sweet ap- 
 peals can be addi’essed only to a feeling delicate 
 as they are ; and the response they awaken, is 
 a gentle emotion which claims kindred with our 
 finest sympathies. The youlliful mother, as 
 she courts the playful glances of her infant, or 
 watches the soft sleep that steals upon its closing 
 eyelids, is herself the subject of a warm and 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 207 
 
 pure enthusiasm; she is awake to the tenderest 
 sensibilities, and is capable of the most disin- 
 terested devotedness to the object of her attach- 
 ment. 
 
 The sentiment needs no prompting. It 
 comes unsolicited, save by the cry that meets 
 the mother’s ear, the look of helpless love that 
 turns upon her. And the anxieties it gives rise 
 to, are of spontaneous growth, and intrude 
 themselves, unbidden, on her thoughts. With 
 reference to these, indeed, it is her duty to 
 guard against herself ; and to oppose to the ap- 
 prehensions which may oppress her mind, the 
 principles which only can allay them. 
 
 The Christian mother, if she has anxieties 
 peculiarly her own, has also her peculiar com- 
 fort. It is incumbent on her to avail herself 
 of this her privilege ; and, as a remedy to all 
 solicitudes — to those of a religious nature, and 
 those which are common to every parent — to 
 exercise implicit trust in the Highest Power. 
 
 Maternal love is peculiarly of an anxious 
 character. That this should be its quality, is 
 another indication of the wisdom of Him that 
 gave it this complexion. Of other love equally, 
 
208 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 even more ardent, solicitude is not, in the same 
 way, the prominent feature. But the sugges- 
 tion of danger is perpetually offering itself to 
 the mother’s busy mind ; and prompts the fore- 
 thought which guards against mischief, and 
 quickens the ear to the call for help. 
 
 It is, however', essential to her peace, and to 
 the well-being of those she loves, to keep her 
 anxiety in check. It is for her to call into 
 practical efficiency the belief she professes in 
 the providence of God, and in His special pro- 
 tection. 
 
 For, unless she does thus really repose in 
 Him, her faith is merely nominal. If, after 
 forethought wisely exercised, she is still per- 
 plexed with distressing apprehensions; if, to 
 judicious precaution she superadds excessive 
 and vexatious care ; if, not satisfied with or- 
 dinary safeguards, she provokes notice by her 
 unusual and uncalled for preventatives ; she 
 surely gives but feeble evidence of her trust in 
 God ; she seems as if she would leave but little 
 for Infinite Wisdom to provide for, and Infinite 
 Love to guard. 
 
 And, after all, how little can all her fore- 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER, 
 
 209 
 
 thought do ? It is indeed true, that perils 
 meet us at every step. And when we think of 
 the helplessness of infancy, and the heedless- 
 ness of youth ; when we look at the fragile form 
 which a touch may bruise ; the little tottering 
 footsteps which a straw may throw off their 
 balance ; when we consider the “ hairbreadth 
 ’scapes” of boyhood ; the perils which foresight 
 could not avoid, and which rashness seems to 
 court ; the wonder is, that the promise of early 
 years is ever realised, and that the tender limbs 
 expand and grow into maturity. Where can we 
 say that our little ones are safe ? Has not the 
 infant sprung through an open window from its 
 nurse’s arms ? Has not the child played with 
 the tempting berries, and tasting them, found 
 its death ? Has not the harmless toy — the 
 ball, the arrow — been charged with mischief; 
 and the sport terminated in loss of sense or 
 limb ? And, if such casualties do not befall, — 
 who shall guard against sickness ? The noxious 
 blast of epidemic comes in through the crevice ; 
 or the deceitful sunshine of a vernal day gives 
 fever; or the innate disease — inevitable, in- 
 curable — shows its fatal symptom, and spreads 
 
 VOL. II. p 
 
210 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 its slow but deadly poison through the frame. 
 “ By every thing in providence, and every 
 thing in manners, by every thing in nature, 
 and every thing in chance early life is 
 threatened ; and what shield can we interpose, 
 that can guard against the subtle shaft ? 
 
 But shall we therefore yield to tormenting 
 fears? Shall we enjoy no freedom from solici- 
 tude ; but indulge in painful fancies, and anti- 
 cipate every variety of ill ? Rather shall we 
 not consider our liability to danger, as the 
 ground of trust in Omnipotence; and the ex- 
 posure to casualty, as involving the certainty of 
 Divine superintendence ? 
 
 The remark was once thoughtlessly made — 
 “ One would almost think that a special Provi- 
 dence watches over children.” Almost, shall 
 we say ? — Were it not for a special Providence, 
 what child would pass safely through the haz- 
 ards of a single day ? Were it not for a special 
 Providence, when w^e send our little tribe to 
 take their daily walks, what guarantee have we 
 for their safe return ? Were it not for a special 
 
 Taylor’s Holy Dying. 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 211 
 
 Providence, what ground has the fond mother, 
 when she parts with her schoolboy, when she 
 bestows on him her farewell kiss, and brushes 
 off the tear that dims her eye, to hope, that she 
 will again fold him to her bosom, and welcome 
 him, grown and matured, to the Christmas 
 board ? It is indeed a special Providence that 
 watches over children. It is a Providence, not 
 a chance, that made and rules the world ; a 
 Providence, not a chance, that regulates its 
 concerns. And as this universe, with its laws, 
 harmonies, and systems, is not the accident of 
 an accident ; but the execution of a plan, ori- 
 ginated and pourtrayed in the One Uncreated 
 Mind ; so, its minutest arrangements, its least 
 events, are not fortuitous, but the results of the 
 same Intelligence, and, in the microscopic eye 
 of Infinite Wisdom, essential to the completeness 
 of his economy. Therefore, shall we not be- 
 lieve, that “ the hairs of our little ones are 
 numbered ? ” 
 
 And surely this persuasion, whilst it allays 
 fears, will excite to a devotional spirit. When 
 the mother looks upon her children with the 
 affectionate solicitude that marks her ties, she 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 will find her peace in commending them to the 
 care which is better than her own. When she 
 greets them, day after day, with glowing 
 cheeks ; hears, in their sportive voices, the glad 
 indication of happiness and health ; sees, in the 
 beaming eye, the promise of intelligence ; should 
 not her heart expand in thankfulness to Him, 
 to whose continued goodness she is indebted 
 for blessings, not the less prized, because, to her, 
 they are of ordinary occurrence. 
 
 But, should such calm enjoyment not be hers. 
 Should it be her lot to mark the progress of 
 pining sickness ; to watch her infant’s fevered 
 slumbers, to cool its burning head ; and, after 
 all her painful attentions, to see it lay its cheek 
 upon its pillow, and sleep its long, unbroken, 
 sleep ; still, shall she not confess, that the same 
 special Providence kept her child. She will 
 imprint her last kiss upon its marble form, 
 
 Pallida no, ma piii di morte bianca ; 
 
 will take her last look of its apparently chiselled 
 features : but, oh ! there must be no bitterness 
 in her tears ; for the Everlasting arms are un- 
 derneath her child ; and it has been borne on 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 213 
 
 the feathered pinions of the swiftest ministers of 
 light, to a bosom of more perfect love than ever 
 hers could be. She will think of it, as of a 
 cherub before the throne, the first fruits of her 
 own company ; as an earnest of their entrance 
 into the same joy ; as a part of the portion, re- 
 served above for herself, and the partner of her 
 gi’ief. The hope of re-embracing their lost one, 
 will be to the parents, an added ingredient in 
 their anticipated bliss; — for they cherish the 
 assurance, that its place will be in the elect 
 band of virgin souls, “ in whose mouth is 
 found no guile, and who are without fault, 
 before God.” * 
 
 In this confidence the mother will rest, and 
 will not dwell with son’ow on her loss. It is true 
 she has received a wound ; but the oil and the 
 wine are ready to pour in. And she will prove 
 at once, that her spirit is not depressed, nor 
 her force abated ; that she is as ready for duty 
 or exertion as before ; and that her cheerful- 
 ness is not diminished, because one of her little 
 flock is translated to the fold above. 
 
 * Rev. xiv. 5. 
 
 p 3 
 
214 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 Maternal solicitude is, doubtless, quickened 
 by the experience of the loss of children, or by 
 their apparent delicacy. It is, however, no un- 
 important duty to guard against excess of fear. 
 Besides that it interrupts all enjoyment of 
 present blessings, it confines the mind to one 
 subject ; and incapacitates it for all general and 
 useful effort. 
 
 Even for the sake of those, who thus en- 
 gage their interest, it is incumbent on mothers 
 to beware of over-wrought attention. Tliere 
 is nothing more likely to produce illness than 
 the perpetual treatment of children as invalids. 
 The anxiety depicted on the mother’s counte- 
 nance — the indulgence that grants or forestalls 
 every wish — the perpetual nursing which, to a 
 grain, apportions medicine, exercise, and food — 
 all make their impression on the poor patient, 
 and increase the susceptibility of disease. In 
 cases of predisposition to sickness, it is well 
 known, that a happy moral temperament is the 
 best corrective of the constitutional bias ; and 
 such can never be the condition of a petted 
 child. For those children, onlj^, can be happy, 
 who have leai’nt the secret of content ; who are 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 215 
 
 not perpetually excited by the presentation of 
 fresh amusements, by the gratification of every 
 whim ; but, who acquire calmness by self-con- 
 trol, and cheerfulness by being satisfied with 
 easily procured pleasures. 
 
 In cases of protracted sickness, a mother’s 
 duty may be difficult and trying. With all the 
 tender care she must bestow on one object, still 
 she should not forget, that others require her 
 regard. She should not be so absorbed in 
 nursing, that her husband should miss her at- 
 tentions ; or, when he returns to his home, 
 weary with his daily avocations, should find no 
 cheerful companion to dissipate his cares. Nor 
 should she expect from him more sympathy or 
 aid, than he can properly give. For his im- 
 portant duties, for the station he has to occupy, 
 he must not be disqualified ; and, though he 
 would willingly watch with her the little suf- 
 ferer’s couch, the office is scarcely one, which 
 he should be allowed to fill. She is the appro- 
 priate nurse ; and, for her husband and her 
 family’s sake — for the sake too of the precious 
 one, whom sickness has doubly endeared — her 
 endeavour should be to preserve that buoyancy 
 V 4 
 
216 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 of spirit, which will enable her to go through 
 her trial with equanimity, and to fulfil other 
 claims without omission. 
 
 Other causes besides health may tempt 
 mothers to undue anxiety. The effect is 
 equally to be lamented. It is natural to ever}' 
 parent to think none so worthy of interest as 
 her own little ones ; and the impression is not 
 without utility. But it should not be made ob- 
 vious to the childi’en ; nor should it be un- 
 guardedly and exclusively indulged. Family 
 selfishness appears almost as unamiable, to 
 those unconnected with us, as personal selfish- 
 ness; and, in some respects, seems almost more 
 engrossing. Besides, the excessive partiality of 
 parents often excites a prejudice against those 
 on whom it is lavished ; and others are not dis- 
 posed to bestow their interest on the monopo- 
 lisers of home favour. Whatever cause there 
 may be for making much of children, it is, 
 indeed, by no means, favourable to them- 
 selves ; and mothers, if judicious, will there- 
 fore learn to repress the excess of their 
 anxiety. 
 
 With reference to education it may be said 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 ‘217 
 
 that a parent can scarcely be too solicitous. 
 Still, even here, the earnestness may be of too 
 restless a nature. In education we should 
 never be in a hurry. If, as has been said, an 
 attempt at too much learning is prejudicial 
 to young people at any period, a forcing of the 
 mind in the tenderest years is especially injurious. 
 There is danger, to both mind and body, in 
 the effort. For all undue excitement should 
 be avoided, at a period when the brain is pe- 
 culiarly susceptible of injury, and when fatigue 
 is even more detrimental than want of exer- 
 cise. 
 
 Very little benefit accrues from premature 
 learning. It is a common saying, that a for- 
 ward child does no more, in .after years, than 
 keep pace with his contemporai’ies. And this 
 implies that the opening faculties are not im- 
 proved by too lavish culture. 
 
 The object of early education should be, gra- 
 dually to unfold the mind, and strengthen its 
 powers. This is a task, which pleasingly de- 
 volves upon the mother. It is for her to call 
 forth the nascent intelligence, to excite and 
 satisfy the infant curiosity. 
 
218 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 The effect of instruction even at the earliest 
 age, as conducted by different individuals, is 
 remarkable. Mechanical learning all may im- 
 part with equal success : nay, persons of in- 
 ferior ability may perhaps execute the ordinary 
 routine better than those whose minds are 
 more energetic. But considerable skill will be 
 required to seize the prominent points to which 
 attention should be directed, to simplify explan- 
 ations, and to prepare the understanding and 
 the reason for the work of future years. 
 
 Not that mothers should foster in their chil- 
 dren an idle or troublesome inquisitiveness. 
 Impertinent questions should be checked as 
 carefully, as pertinent inquiries should be en- 
 couraged. In this, as well as many other 
 points, the treatment, of course, should be 
 suited to the differences in individual children. 
 One little one is satisfied to fulfil his task 
 without a question, and after he has said his les- 
 son may not be wiser than before. Another flies 
 oflP, at every point, into some new field, and can 
 scarcely accomplish his allotted exercise from 
 eagerness to follow up the inquiries, which his 
 discursive mind has suggested. To rouse the fa- 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 219 
 
 culties of the one, without lessening his steadi- 
 ness ; to discipline, without destroying the ex- 
 uberant vivacity of the other, is the work of 
 a judicious and superior guide. 
 
 We must be ourselves proficient, if we would 
 be good teachers ; and even elementary in- 
 struction is conveyed by those who are adepts, 
 in a manner that marks their skill. It would 
 seem, often, as if there were an aptitude, in 
 children, to seize a weak point. Then* questions 
 go deeper than they are themselves aware of; 
 and they are by no means inexpert in detecting 
 an error', when such is attempted to be imposed 
 upon them. A person of high attainments, there- 
 fore, need not scruple, in matters where she may 
 not happen to be informed, to avow her want 
 of knowledge : she can afford to say, “ I cannot 
 tell you;” for her tone of mind, and general 
 ability, have so established her authority, that 
 she will not endanger it by confessing her igno- 
 rance on a particular point. 
 
 Thus, in very early years, we can imderstand 
 how dependent the real progress of children is 
 upon the character and habits of their mothers. 
 If, when they are with her, they are themselves 
 
220 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 led to make sensible remarks ; if the conversation 
 they hear is intelligent and elevating; if they 
 see her occupied not with trivial pleasures, but 
 with important objects and superior pursuits; 
 they attain, insensibly, a thirst for knowledge, 
 a love of virtue, and a desire for improvement. 
 The early impression may, no doubt, be weak- 
 ened ; the good seed may become choked by 
 weeds ; the tares, inveterate in the soil, may 
 spring up and predominate over the first crop ; 
 but the children of such a mother will recollect 
 the impression that her example made in their 
 years of tenderness, and the bias she then gave 
 to their consciences and minds. The little 
 infant, before it can speak, ordinarily gives 
 pretty sure indication of the skill and activity 
 of its nurse ; so the child, in its next stage, re- 
 flects with tolerable accuracy the character of 
 its mother : and though, of course, allowance 
 - must be made for natural dilferences, for the 
 opportunities of intercourse wdth parents, and 
 other incidental circumstances ; still the intelli- 
 gent countenance, the open brow, the accurate 
 answer, give a favourable impression of domestic 
 culture, and prepossess us in behalf, not only 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 221 
 
 of the fine plant they adorn, but of the ma- 
 ternal care with which it has been nurtured. 
 
 Incidental instruction is peculiarly adapted 
 to very early years. And this is conveyed, in 
 the best manner, by persons of superior mind. 
 Objects of perpetual occurrence, — daily events, 
 — may thus be improved to impart knowledge, 
 or teach an important lesson. Both these ends 
 should, however, be brought about naturally 
 and familiarly, A well-stored mind can per- 
 petually recall some useful association, can 
 elucidate some process in nature, can illustrate 
 some religious or moral truth, in noticing 
 passing occurrences. And thus knowledge 
 the most valuable may be brought to the level 
 of very young capacities, and a habit also estab- 
 lished of profiting by casual incidents. 
 
 Intelligent mothers have pleasure in observ- 
 ing and treasuring up remarks which may well 
 appear to exceed the supposed limit of a child’s 
 mind. These remarks have often reference to 
 invisible objects, and are called forth by reli- 
 gious instruction. And, in truth, it must strike 
 all who, in the early period of their childi’en’s 
 
222 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 lives, endeavour to impart spiritual knowledge, 
 that the mysteries of faith are often received 
 and entered into by their young disciples, in a 
 manner more encouraginar than could be ex- 
 pected from their years. They do not shrink 
 from the doctrines propounded to them : it is 
 true they receive them, on authority ; still be- 
 lievino;, they seek to understand ; and often they 
 do so understand, as to convince us that, in scrip- 
 tural truth there is accommodation to the human 
 mind, and in the mind a need for scriptural truth. 
 A child who is cognizant of nothing but the 
 world around him, and is puzzled with much that 
 he beholds, hears of the mysteries of his spiritual 
 being — of the transcendent doctrines which un- 
 fold the nature of the Invisible God — and re- 
 ceives them without amazement, and without 
 doubting. Nor is it that his mind is not en- 
 gaged and interested. There may be, in some 
 children, indilference ; but often it is quite other- 
 wise. Young learners will frequently show pecu- 
 liar interest in these subjects ; will pursue them 
 with eagerness, and will manifest, with refer- 
 ence to them, great clearness of thought. They 
 will ask questions which will prove their appre- 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 223 ' 
 
 hension of the instruction that has been con- 
 veyed, and their power of following it out ; and 
 at the same time will evince a teachableness 
 which may put to shame the intractability of 
 future years. And, in thus inviting the 
 young mind to religious inquiries, we shall 
 be reminded of the blessing promised to those 
 who, “like a little child, receive the mys- 
 teries of the kingdom of heaven;” and shall 
 wish that, as the capacity enlarges, there may 
 be a proportionate ability to understand and 
 entertain them. 
 
 There can be no question, therefore, of the 
 propriety of improving this direction of the 
 mind to the highest objects. In truth, there 
 is an opportunity, in childhood, of laying the 
 grounds of faith, which may never afterwards 
 be so well afforded. With boys especially, the 
 mothers may, at no subsequent period, have so 
 favourable an occasion, or possess so strong a 
 hold upon the mind. 
 
 But the insti’uction which is here intended, 
 is not that which is conveyed by stated lessons. 
 It is that which distils warm from the lips and 
 heart of the teacher, and which is responded 
 
224 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 to by the disciple, with all the freeness and 
 simplicity of infantile remark. Thus, interest 
 is kept up, and the child receives the most 
 important knowledge, unconscious of the reach 
 which its own mind is essaying. There should 
 ever be caution not to press the attention too 
 much, and to avoid all approach to fatigue. 
 Religious instruction or conversation should be 
 looked upon as a pleasure, and should be in- 
 troduced with ease, and kept up without effort. 
 If pursued to exhaustion, the benefit will be 
 lost; and a distaste for it probably contracted. 
 
 Again : in endeavouring to bring spiritual 
 subjects to the level of our children’s minds, we 
 must beware of so lowering them, as to take off 
 from the reverence with which they should be 
 regarded. Our language, in communicating 
 them, though simple and child-like, should still 
 be solemn and serious ; our illustrations, though 
 apt and familiar, not undignified, nor mean. 
 Let us not attempt to strip subhme truths of 
 their halo of mystery, nor to reduce them 
 to the sensible apprehensions of our children. 
 In illustration, we must be on our guard to 
 convey no erroneous impression ; not to allow 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 225 
 
 analogy to be carried beyond the point of re- 
 semblance ; and especially not to propose a 
 similitude, where the likeness does not hold. 
 Experienced reasoners will detect a fallacy, 
 when it occurs, in these modes of arguing or 
 explaining; but the young mind may soon be 
 led astray ; and, pleased at the familiarity of 
 the figure, at the prospect of understanding, 
 by its means, what before seemed abstruse, will 
 not perceive that it is venturing on doubtful 
 ground. 
 
 It may be expected that a mother’s in- 
 struction, will be of an affectionate nature. 
 This, indeed, is one of its great recommend- 
 ations. To teach the young mind that re- 
 ligion is the most exalted love ; to inspire 
 a confidence in God; to impress on the heart, 
 the image of Him who “ took little chil- 
 dren in his arms, and blessed them;” this 
 should be the aim of the Christian mother, 
 that she may win to their legitimate object 
 the earliest affections ; and elevate, and convert 
 to a still higher purpose, the sentiment enter- 
 tamed towards herself. The tenderness lavished 
 by a child on its earthly parent, is the aptest 
 
 VOE. II. Q 
 
226 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 image she can present of the love to be felt 
 towards the Author of all; and the assurance 
 experienced of the unwearied interest of a mo- 
 ther, is a figure of the implicit trust to be 
 reposed in the Heavenly Parent. 
 
 “ Untaught, yet wise, ’mid all thy brief alarms, 
 
 Thou closely clingest to thy mother’s arms.” * 
 
 By her own maternal tenderness let her 
 teach the still greater love of Him who, 
 with infinite solicitude, cares for all his crea- 
 tures ; and by her own readiness to pardon, his 
 mercy, who, at such cost, provided a ransom 
 for his erring children. By the unprompted 
 affection which her children entertain towards 
 herself, let her illustrate the sentiment due to 
 God ; and by their fearless approach to her in- 
 dulgent arms, inculcate reliance upon Him, 
 whom, in the tender spu’it of adoption, they 
 are to call, Abba, Father. 
 
 The tendency of such instruction in the 
 nursery, is to produce a spirit of love : the 
 principle of all the charities of life. By this, 
 the Christian mother will strive to regulate 
 
 * Coleridge, Sonnet to his Infant. 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 ”227 
 
 the tempers of her infant train. It is true, 
 that, in children, unity of motive can scarcely 
 be maintained ; and therefore consistency can- 
 not always be expected. Present impressions 
 are often too strong for reason and conviction ; 
 and the little delinquent, conscious of its fault, 
 and of its consequence, has still not sufficient 
 self-control to overcome the wrong impulse. 
 To meet this, immediate authority must inter- 
 pose — authority, calmly yet firmly exerted — 
 which appeals to the sentiment of veneration, 
 whilst it increases filial love. 
 
 Mutual affection is the invariable symptom 
 of a well regulated family. It is the proof, in 
 children, of an amiable heart, and of moderate 
 desires. The bickerings which distiu’b the 
 peace of some nurseries, are chiefly occasioned 
 by indulgence, and by the exuberant supply 
 of whatever may minister to fictitious wants. 
 Toys are often little better than apples of dis- 
 cord ; and the choicer and more numerous, the 
 more disunion do they create. Moderation 
 in such gratifications practically teaches tem- 
 perance in greater things ; and contentment 
 Q 2 
 
•i'28 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 with simple pleasures in childhood, is the germ 
 and promise of future equanimity. 
 
 But if, in whatever furnishes entertainment, 
 there should be moderation, the same abstinence 
 should be exercised in dress. Mothers, who are 
 by no means extravagant in their own personal 
 decoration, are occasionally too lavish on their 
 children. They scruple not to expend, upon 
 an infant’s toilette, a far larger proportion of 
 care and money, than they would think it right 
 to bestow upon their own. A baby’s wardrobe is, 
 doubtless, a pretty plaything; but it maybe a very 
 costly one; and, when furnished according to 
 the most approved model, is a specimen of ela- 
 borate expenditure for very little use. 
 
 It may, perhaps, be defended, on the plea that, 
 as the infant is unconscious, no danger accrues 
 to it from the harmless indulgence of a mother’s 
 taste. Still, the system, if faulty, should not be 
 commenced. It is not, indeed, on the score of 
 the child only, that it is wrong. But, if it be 
 not an indication in the parent, of a trifling 
 mind, it is, at least, a symptom of injudicious 
 fondness ; a fondness which will, it may be 
 feared, tend to a pampering of the fancy, and 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 ‘229 
 
 to an indulgence in more Inirtful extrava- 
 gance. 
 
 It is, however, by no means necessary, that, 
 because prodigality is shunned, neatness and 
 elegance should not be realised. A simple 
 attire, for a child, is, in fact, the most graceful ; 
 and the unencumbered dress is far more be- 
 coming than the gorgeous and ornamented one. 
 And though vanity does not depend upon tlie 
 quality of the frock, but may be as rife in stuff 
 as in velvet; still the mother will best consult 
 the well-being of her little ones, who, in their 
 appearance, is studious of simplicity rather than 
 decoration, and of health and freedom rather 
 than show. 
 
 A young mother not unfrequently harasses 
 herself by a variety of counsellors. In her 
 anxiety for her infant, she wishes to gain from 
 the experience of others, what she fears she is 
 deficient in herself ; and therefore asks advice of 
 all who, she thinks, may help her. The pro- 
 bability is, that she gains no good. She is 
 burthened with receipts for diet — with reme- 
 dies for infantile complaints ; she hears from one 
 of an infallible specific, and receives from another 
 Q 3 
 
•230 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 a caution against its use ; she is told by one to 
 send her children out in all weather, by an- 
 other, to keep them at home; and whilst convers- 
 ation is thus exclusive, and uninteresting to all 
 whom it does not concern, she is herself only 
 perplexed by the contradiction of her advisers. 
 A sound judgment is the best guide for the 
 management of children ; and this, aided by the 
 experience which none can communicate, of 
 tlie peculiar constitution of families and of their 
 individual members, will impart to mothers 
 a skill to be derived from no other source. 
 
 The mother’s influence is established at the 
 earliest age ; .and the impression of her cha- 
 racter is the first which children receive. The 
 nature and endurance of the sentiment depends 
 on points which indicate either her superiority 
 or her weakness. A son especially, accepts at 
 a late period her guidance or not, as he esti- 
 mates her tone of mind. Can a mother have 
 stronger inducement to moral and intellec- 
 tual advance? By her maternal affection, by 
 her anxiety for the good conduct of those of 
 her children who are exposed to the greater 
 hazard, by her especial love for her first born. 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 231 
 
 her husband’s cherished representative, whose 
 example may determine the career of his 
 younger brethren, and lead them to mischief or 
 to good, by the responsibility she incurs for 
 souls, by birth committed to her care, she is 
 bound to strive after that excellence, which, as 
 it fits her to be her children’s first instructress, 
 so will it render her, in an after period, their 
 chosen friend. 
 
 The parental relationship marks the com- 
 mencement of a second era in life. As such, it 
 must excite serious, if not sad reflections. The 
 young mother sees, in each of her little groups, 
 the picture of what she was herself but yes- 
 terday. The same playfulness, the same ardour, 
 the same quick transitions from grief to joy, fi’om 
 pain to pleasure, are fresh in her own remem- 
 brance, and appear as her late experience. Does 
 she see her children in the same spots which her 
 own childhood witnessed — spots, with reference 
 to inanimate creation, still unchanged ? She 
 seems to live over again in them her early ex- 
 
•232 
 
 THE YOUNG MOTHER, 
 
 istence ; and to sympathise with them, in the 
 same simple tastes which occupied and interested 
 her first years. 
 
 But a change has passed over her, and every 
 epoch brings more sure and more startling in- 
 dications of the change. The Parent, of whose 
 first and latest thought she was the object, per- 
 haps, lives, for her, only in her tenderest, and 
 most hallowed recollections; — the Guide, the 
 friend of her youth, from whose lips dropped 
 heavenly wisdom, whose example was a bright 
 and cheering pattern, who pointed to the glory 
 seen by faith, and led the way, has “ entered 
 into his rest;” — even of her former compeers and 
 associates, the companions of her childhood and 
 her youth, on whom life opened with its fairest 
 promise, — of these, younger even than her- 
 self, — one is taken, and another left. And 
 she must feel, that her own progress to the 
 grave becomes more rapid; that every year 
 brings fresh symptoms of decline ; that, though 
 now surrounded by objects of endearment, by 
 duties, by blessings, — now enjoying ability of 
 mind and body, — she and all she loves are on 
 their journey to a bourne which involves the 
 
THE YOUNG MOTHER. 
 
 233 
 
 separation from earthly objects, and the dis- 
 solution of this mortal frame. 
 
 Still these thoughts, solemn though they are, 
 should occasion her no gloom. 
 
 “ Before her still, a lingering ray appears, 
 
 But broken and prismatic, seen through tears 
 The light of joy and immortality.” * 
 
 With such a star in sight, there can be no 
 darkness ; before so glorious a vision, the in- 
 tervening cloud melts away. Tire friends she 
 may have lost ai’e her precursors to the mansions 
 of the blest ; those that remain are her fellow 
 travellers, or may be her followers, to the same 
 abode. If she becomes more sensible of the pre- 
 cariousness of present blessings, their con- 
 tinuance calls forth the greater gi’atitude ,* if all 
 earthly joys are mellowed, they are, therefore, 
 the less dangerous. With a mind disciplined 
 by wisdom from on high, instructed by every 
 change in condition and incident in life, ma- 
 tured by an acquaintance with human cha- 
 racter, and the experience, in it, of good or ill, 
 she is qualified to maintain, through Divine 
 Grace, her own course uprightly, and to aid 
 * Sir H. Ddvy. 
 
234 
 
 THE YOUNG: MOTHER. 
 
 and direct the steps of others. She will, to the 
 last, enjoy the goodness of God in the refresh- 
 ments he has provided ; to the last, receive and 
 taste the cup which his bounteous hand has 
 filled; — and, when he sees fit to call her to her 
 home, she will, with a glad heart, obey the 
 summons, and leave behind her a memorial of 
 his faithfulness and truth. 
 
 * 
 
 THE END. 
 
 London’ : 
 
 Printed by A. Spottiswoode, 
 N ew.StreeuSquare. 
 
By the Rev. JOHN SANDFORD. 
 
 ]. REMAINS OF THE LATE RIGHT REV. 
 BISHOP SANDFORD, with a Memoir. 2 vols. 
 
 2. EIGHT LECTURES ON FELLOWSHIP WITH 
 
 GOD. 2d Edition. 
 
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