os ae Payette en peticbal Z apne TEES Pe nae 7 Spe Tans RES ee art ee < See eee cdi adeccniin eee ee ee Petenererarane i. Se hin aa ae by ow eee healer Ne ae a oa en ee ea ee ees gery imiw re” fh a eerie ice Fast is fn SO ‘ ee iin len nina — ee ee eT Ps ee . Citgo te weet " a, ni vt a e a ee e bg A Vl ghd Pee eee RE OP cage a Ae; SS a ee | NG s tk ’ ¥ a " Kw PR 9 Bc il eel The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. 7 14 44. J —O-1096 2000 ¢ 161. . acts cp . ANC Wic 2 wee sy THE WIVES OF ENGLAND, THEIR RELATIVE DUTIES DOMESTIC INFLUENCE, AND SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS, BY MRS. ELLIS, AUTHO? “THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND,” “THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND,” “SONS OF THE SOIL,” “HINTS TO MAKE HOME HAPPY,’’? AND ‘* SUMMER AND WINTER IN THE PYRENEES.”? NEW-YORK : D. APPLETON & CO. 200 BROADWAY. PHILADELPHIA : GEORGE S. APPLETON, 148 CHESNUT-STREET. 1843. oF EL swe 16 Lele 24 Vhs CONTENTS: CHAP. I. Thoughts: before Marriage» 2. 0 ee PR Pg CHAP. IL, The First Year of Married Life o afin 6 Sel, Sage ee CHAP. III. - Characteristics of Men ee ee ML oy, CHAP. IV. Behaviour to Husbands . .... Mia Hie 74 CHAP. v. Confidence and Truth.) 4s . 99 CHAP, VI. The Love of Married Life . one RE SS "| OG CHAP. VII. ~ rials of Marriedehife 3, 70 aS eo ag yor : © 3 67 A233 8 CONTENTS. CHAP. VIII. Position in Society . CHAP. IX. Domestic Management CHAP. X. Order, Justice, and Benevolence CHAP. XI. Treatment of Servants and Dependents CHAP. XII ‘Social Influence . i oe . 175 . 194 , 216 . 238 PREFACE. T'HERE can be no more agreeable conviction to a writer, than that of having selected a sub- ject in which the feelings of a large proportion of readers are naturally, and deeply interested. As one of the popular themes of the day, woman has engaged in her service many abler pens than mine; but instead of shrinking for this reason from the humble performance of my own labours of love, Iam the more encouraged to proceed; because, while the subject itself derives interest and importance from the vari- ety of talent it calls forth, I am satisfied that so far as a work of this kind can be recom- mended to my country women by being writ- ten with the warm feelings of a friend, and a sister, no one can offer more legitimate claims than myself to the serious attention of the Wives of England. On this ground alone, I can, without fear, | commit myself once more to the welcome which has never failed me in the fireside circles 12 PREFACE. of my native land; but while acknowledging with a degree of grateful satisfaction, which it would be folly to disclaim, the favourable ~ notice awarded by the public to two of my previous works addressed to the Women and the Daughters of England, I must offer one word of apology for the number of instances in which these works have been alluded to in the present volume. With regard to both, but espe- cially the latter, the Wives of England form but a continuation; and, in order to avoid the necessity of repeating what had been’ said before, I have simply referred the reader to passages or portions of those works. which oc- curred to me as bearing directly upon the sub- ject in hand. Indeed the whole of the Daugh- ters of England might with justice be regarded as an introduction to the Wives; just in the same proportion as the occupations and attain- ments of early life are preparations for a state of existence, in which we have less opportunity for learning, than necessity for acting upon what has already been attained. | As in the earlier of these two volumes, I have attempted to describe the elements of female character; in the present I have dwelt more exclusively upon the sphere of action in which those elements are combined and dis- played. Such a disposition of the subject has PREFACE. 11 rendered it necessary that in addressing myself to married women, I should enter into the homely details of practical duty with a minute- ness which some readers might deem unneces- sary; though I feel happy in the assurance that the hearts of many who are engaged in the most serious responsibilities of domestic life, will cheerfully go along with me while pursu- ing a subject; in which their own happiness, and, what is far more to them—the happiness of those they love best, is so deeply involved. Conscious as we all must be, that amongst the highest and holiest attributes of the female _character, are those of which the world at large takes little note, it would imply a strange and a culpable blindness in a writer like myself, not to be aware that there are hundreds and _ thou- sands of women occupying the happy, and sometimes the humble, homes of England, with _ whom I should be much more in my proper place, endeavouring to learn, than presuming to teach. Yet as such women would probably be the last to lay their experience or their knowledge before the public, it remains only for those who have derived encouragement from examples so bright and cheering, to en- deavour to prove that it is no vain philosophy, _but a matter of practical attainment, to enno- ble the most simple and familiar duties by 12 PREFACE. great or generous motives; and to make the principles of the gospel the rule of every trans- action in domestic and social life. But for such noble instances, books might be written and read in vain. Yet happily for us, and our country, there remains a high stan- dard of moral excellence’ still faithfully upheld by the women of England ; and it is for the encouragement of such as doubt the reality of this standard, or who are satisfied with an infe- rior degree of excellence, but more especially for those who have not yet been called into serious and important action, that I have ven- tured to lay before the public a few practical hints on the subject of female duty; and while we take these home for our private considera- tion, let us never forget, that in the person of our beloved QuEEN we have the character ofa wife and a mother so blended with that of a sovereign, that the present above all others ought to form an era in British history, where- - in woman shall have proved herself not unwor- thy of the importance attached to her influ- ence. and her name. Rose Hitt, Marca, 1843. THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER L THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. In commencing a work addressed particularly to mar- ried women, it might appear a little out of place to devote a whole chapter to the subject of ‘thoughts before mar- riage,’ did not the writer suppose it probable, that if mar- ried women should deem the following pages worthy of their notice, those who are about to assume the responsi- bility of wives, might feel equally curious to ascertain the nature of their contents. In this chapter, then, I would venture to recommend a few inquiries to those who have not yet passed the Rubicon, and with whom, therefore, it may not be too late to retract, if they should find they have not correctly calculated the- consequences of the step they are about to take; or, what is still more probable, if they have not coolly and impartially estimated their own capa- bility for rendering it one of prudence and safety both to themselves and others. On the other hand, the inquiries I ». would propose, are such as, where the mind and character a are fitly prepared for this important change, will tend to confirm the best resolutions; while they will assist in de- tecting every latent evil which might otherwise lie in wait, 2 (14 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — 1o rise up after the season of deliberation is past, like clouds in the horizon, which gradually spread. their gloom across the sky, and finally obscure the sunshine of every future day. rs The great object to be aimed at by all women about to enter upon the married state, is to examine calmly and dis- passionately the requirements of this state; to put away all personal feeling; and to be not only walling, but deter- mined, to look the subject fairly in the face, and to see its practical bearing upon the interest and the happiness of those with whom they may be associated.) | Perhaps there never yet was a woman of warm feel- ings, or man either, who had not, in early life, some vision of conjugal felicity, which after experience and knowledge — of the world have failed to stamp with the impress of re- ality. Some, believing themselves capable of contributing their share to this measure of earthly happiness, and. dis- appointed in not finding an. equal companion, have wisely declined entering upon the married state altogether; while others, more confident of success, have made the ex- periment for themselves, believing, that though all ‘the world may have failed in realizing their dreams of bliss, they and theirs will be fortunate enough to exhibit to the wonder of mankind, an. instance of perfect connubial hap- piness. It is needless to decide which of these two parties ide. serve the highest meed of commendation for their prudence and common sense. But it is equally needless to belong to either class of individuals. & What! exclaims the young enthusiast, “shall we not even hope to be happy 2”? . Yes. Let us hope as long as we can; but let it be in sub- servience to reason and to truth. Let us hope only to be happy ourselves, so long as wé make others happy too ;_ THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 15 and let us expect no measure of felicity beyond what this world has afforded to those who were wiser and better than we are. “© But why then,” exclaims the same enthusiast, “ all the fine talk we hear about marriage? and why, in all the stories we read, is marriage made the end of woman’s ex- istence ?”? Ah! there lies the evil. Marriage, like death, is too often looked upon as the end ; whereas both are but the beginning of states of existence infinitely more impor- tant than that by which they were preceded, yet each taking from that their tone and character, and each pro- portioned in their enjoyment to the previous preparation which has been made for their happiness or misery. The education of young ladies is too frequently such as to lead them naturally to suppose, that all the training, and all the discipline they undergo, has reference only to this end. The first evidence that marriage is thus regarded by many young women, is seen in a petulant rebellion against the restraints of home, and the requirements of parental authority, accompanied by a threat, not always distinctly uttered, that the first opportunity of escaping from domestic thraldom shall not be neglected. This species of rebellion against rightful authority, is much cherished by school- companions and sisters; while the gossip of servants, to whom the indignant sufferers sometimes appeal, and the general tenor of what is called light reading, tend to keep up the same kind of spirited determination to rush upon the uncertainties of marriage, in the hope of escaping from the certainties of home. A polite and flattering lover next presents himself. The persecuted or neglected damsel finds at last that her merits are appreciated, and while the gates of an imaginary Eden are still open, she enters ao 16 ei THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. eagerly amongst its fruits and flowers, never soning to inquire if ** The trail of the serpent is over them still.” nea aa Such is the natural history of one-half at least of those early marriages, which fix the doom of women for this world, and sometimes for the next. What wonder, then, that a sincere and earnest friend, and an affectionate well- ' wisher of her sex, should deem it necessary, even on the near approach of that day which is generally spoken of as making two human beings happy, to request the weaker, and consequently the more easily deluded ok Oe abe and think again. Although I am one of the last persons who cont wish to free anie in any plausible form, to an upright and hon- ourable mind, the bare idea of the possibility of breaking an engagement ; yet as there are cases in which an engage- ment of “marriage, if literally kept, must Hecessarity be vi- it is, in. this bane; especially desirable to choose the Sete: and to prefer inflicting a temporary pain, and enduring an inevitable disgrace, to being the means of destroying the happiness of a lifetime, wit the self-imposed accompani- ment of endless remorse. In the first place, then, I would sake are you about to bring to the altar, and to offer, in the sight of God, a faith- ful and devoted heart? To answer with a mere expres- sion of belief, is not sufficient here. There must be cer- tainty on this point, if not‘on any other. There are many tests by which this important fact may be ascertained, and of these I shall particularize a few. The first is, whom are you loving ?—the man who stands before you with all his ‘imperfections on his head”—his faults of temper, follies, a a ‘ s Fie), ee ee 5 ‘ mee THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 17 inconsistencies, and past misdeeds? Is this the man you love? or is it some ideal and perfect being whom you will fail to recognize in the husband of your after life? If the latter case be yours, go back, and wait, for your acquaint- ance has yet to be formed on the only sure basis—that of honesty and truth;/and you might as safely unite yourself with a being you had never seen before, as with one whom you had seen without having known or understood. The discovery that you have mistaken the real char- acter of your lover, need not, however, be any barrier to the ultimate fulfilment of your engagement with him. All that you have to do, is to wait until you have studied his real character, and ascertained that you can still Jove him, though you no longer believe him to be without a fault. During the progress of this study, the delay it will neces- sarily occasion, may be made to answer two valuable ends ; for at the same time that you have been deceived, it is more “than probable that you have been deceiving. Not inten- tionally, perhaps, yet the effect may be as calamitous as if you had designedly practised upon the partial credulity of your lover. It is of the utmost importance, then, that you inquire into the nature of your own conduct, not only to- wards him, but towards others in his presence. Have you, during the season of courtship, been acting a part which you never before sustained, or which you do not intend to sustain as a wife? Have you been more amiable to your admirer, than you expect to be to your husband? If you have, there are two ways of remedying this evil, for an evil it certainly is; and one of these you are bound in common honesty to adopt—you must either defer your marriage until your real character has been brought to light, and clearly understood ; or, you must determine, from this time forward, by the Divine blessing on your endeavours, that 19%, a THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — , you will be in reality the amiable being you have . peared. there is doubt, there must be danger; but still there are tests to be apphed, which may in some measure reduce those doubts to certainty. The most important question, in a case of doubt, is, whether your heart: lingers after any other object ;/and this may be best iscdrtaipel by asking your- self still further, whether there is any other man in the world, of whom it would give you pain to hear that he was likely to be married.) If there is not, you are in all proba- bility safe in this respect, and yet you may not love the man you are about to marry as he hopes, deserves, and be- lieves himself to be loved. I would ask, then, are you weary of his presence, and relieved when he goes away ? or are you disposed to exercise less charity and forbearance towards his faults, than towards the faults of others ? for if his failings annoy and irritate you more than those of men in general, depend upon it, you do not love him as you ought. If, too, you feel ashamed of him before marriage, there is little probability that you will afterwards evince And now, having learned to see your lover as Te is, zi would ask again, whether you are quite sure that your af-— -fections are entirely and irrevocably his. If on this point towards him that respect and reverence which is right and — seemly in a wife. In order to ascertain these points clearly, it is good for every woman before she marries, to see the man of her choice in the company of her friends, and especially to see him associated and compared with those whose opinion she esteems most highly. We are all more or less influenced by the secret sympathies of our common nature. In no- thing can we think or feel alone ; and few cases show more plainly the weakness and’ liability to delusion under which : | ieee Cost Bhr as GKamenae i real oe * ay tpg - THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. © —«-:19 we labour, than the str ong confidence we scm erinies enter= tain in the correctness of our own judgment, until some new trial is made; and then immediately, as if by a kind of instinct, placing ourselves in the situation of others, we see as it were with their eyes, think with their thoughts, and arrive at their conclusions. This tendency of our nature is often discovered in the reading of books, which we have both enjoyed and admired alone; but no sooner do we read them in company with a critical friend, than we see at once their defects, and can even use against them the same powers of criticism ourselves. Happy is it for those whose judgment, thus influenced, is confined in its exercise to books !—happy for them if they never know what it is to find the talents and the recommendations of a lover disap- pear in a moment, on the approach of an interesting and influential friend, and disappear in such a way as never to be recalled again! Yet, having stood this test, it is still possible to doubt, and, without sufficient love, your engagement may still be only just dragged on, because you have no sufficient plea for breaking it off. You may perhaps esteem your lover highly; you may feel grateful for his kindness, and flattered by his admiration ; you may also feel a strong desire; to make him the happy man he believes he can be with you, and you alone—you may feel all this, and yet, I repeat, you may not love him as a woman ought to love her husband.) This will be more clearly proved by an increase of sadness on your part, as the time of your marriage draws near, an indefinite apprehension that with you the pleasures of life are at an end, and a determination, requiring often to __ be renewed, that at least. you will do your duty to one who deserves every thing from you. Let me, however, ask what that duty is? It is not B. THE WIVES OF onal merely to serve him; a hired menial could do that. The ity of a wife is what no woman ever yet was able to ren- der without affection; and it is therefore the height of pre- sumption to think that you can coldly fulfila duty, the very spirit of which is that of love itself. It is possible, however, that you may still be rigid, It is possible that the gradual opening of your eyes from the visions of girlish romance, which are apt to flit before the imaginative and inexperienced, may have ¢ given you a distaste both for your companion, and your future lot. . If this be the case, the difficulty will be easily overcome by the exercise of a little good feeling and common sense. But in order to prove that this is really all, put this question to yourself—if you were quite sure there was some other wo- man as amiable, or more so, than you, with whom your friend could be equally happy, would you feel pleasure in his cultivating her acquaintance instead of yours ? If you can answer this question in the negative, you may yet be safe; if not, the case is too decided to admit of a moment’s hesitation. Your own integrity, and a sense of justice towards your friend, equally dictate the propriety of making him acquainted with the painful, the humiliating fact, that you do not love him; and no man, after being convinced of this, could desire the fulfilment of a mere nominal engagement. | I am aware that the opinion of the world and the general voice of society are against such conduct, even where love is wanting; and I am equally aware, that no woman ought to venture upon. breaking an engagement on such grounds, without feeling herself humbled to the very dust; but I am not the in convinced, that it is the only safe, ithe only just line of conduct which remains to her who finds. herself thus circumstanced, and that it is in Br. tree hola le i fi a ta aaa RE Oe he BSR ae a =" THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 21 reality more generous to her lover, than if she kept “ the word of promise to his ear, and broke it to his hope.” But there may be other causes besides this, why an engagement should not be fulfilled. There may be a want of love on “the part of your friend, or there may be in- stances of unfaithfulness too glaring to be overlooked ; jand here let it be observed, that woman’s love may grow after marriage—man’s never. If, therefore, he is indiffer- ent or unfaithful as a lover, what must be expected of him as a husband ? It is one of the greatest misfortunes to which women are liable, that they cannot, consistently with female deli- cacy, cultivate, before an engagement is made, an acquaint- ance sufficiently intimate to lead to the discovery of certain facts which would at once decide the point, whether it was prudent to proceed further towards taking that step, which is universally acknowledged to be the most important in a woman’s life. One of these facts, which can only be ascertained on a close acquaintance, is the tendency there is in some indi- viduals to overawe, aud keep others at a distance. Now, if on the near approach of marriage, a woman finds this tendency in the companion she has chosen, if she cannot open to him her whole heart, or if he does not open his heart to her, but maintains a distant kind of authoritative manner, which shuts her out from sympathy and. equality with himself, it is time for her to pause, and think seriously before she binds herself for life to that worst of all slavery, the fear of a husband. I have no scruple in using this expression, because where the connection is so intimate, and the sphere of action necessarily so confined, if fear usurps the place of confidence and love, it must naturally engender a servile disposition to deceive, either by false- 9% 22 as THE WIVES OF eNGLAND. — hood or evasion, wherever blame would attach to a full disclosure of the truth. | Ihave already said that it is a prudent plan for the woman who intends to marry, to try the merits ofther lover, or rather her own estimate of them, by allowing him an opportunity of associating with her friends. Such precau- tionary measures, however, are not easily carried out, ex- cept at some sacrifice of delicate and generous feeling ; and, generally speaking, the less a woman allows her name to be associated with that of her husband before marriage, the better. It is sometimes argued that ; an en- gacement entered into with right feelings, is of so binding and sacred a nature, that persons thus related to each other, may be seen together, both in public and private, almost as if they were really married; and to such it may appear a cold kind of caution to say “ beware!” Yet such is the uncertain nature of all human affairs, that we need not look far for instances of the most improbable changes taking place, after all possibility of change had beed ban- ished from our thoughts. Within a*month, a week, nay even a day of marriage, there have been discoveries made which have fully justified an entire disunion of the parties thus associated; and then how much better has it keen, where their names had not been previously united, and where their appearance together had not impressed the idea of indissoluble connection on the minds of others. One of the most justifiable, and at the same time one of the most melancholy causes for such disunion, is the dis- covery of symptoms of insanity. Even a highly excited and disordered state of the nervous system, will operate with a prudent woman against an alliance of thisnature. Yethere — again, it is particularly unfortunate, that in cases of ner- vous derangement, the discovery is seldom fully made ex- ‘ 7 Sh iia a AR R . Oe Sh ae ‘ tains oe THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. _ 93 ae Be, ad cept in the progress of that close intimacy which amet ately precedes marriage, and which consequently assumes the character of an indissoluble engagement. Symptoms of this nature, however, when exhibited in the conduct of a man, are of a most serious and alarming character. A woman labouring under such maladies, in their milder form, may be so influenced by authority as to be kept from doing any very extensive harm; but when a man, with the reins of government in his hand, loses the power to guide them, when his mind becomes the victim of mor- bid feeling, and his energies sink under imaginary bur- dens, there is no calculating the extent of calamity which may result to the woman who would be rash enough to link her destiny with his. “Another justifiable reason for setting aside an engage- ment of marriage, or protracting the fulfilment of it, is a failure of health, especially when eitaer this, or the kind of malady already noticed, induces an incapacity for busi- ness, and for the duties which generally devolve upon the master of a household. It is true, that in cases where the individual thus afflicted does not himself see the propriety of withdrawing from the engagement, the hard, and appa- rently selfish part a woman has to act on these occasions is such as, in addition to her own sufferings, will probably bring upon her the blame of many who do not, and who cannot, understand the case; and the more delicate her feelings are toward the friend she is thus compelled to treat with apparent harshness, the less likely she will be to ‘exculpate herself by an exposure to the world of his incon- sistency, or his weakness. Thus, as in many of the acts of woman’s life, she has to be the sufferer every way ; but still that suffering is less to every one concerned, than if | she plunged herself into all the lamentable consequences of» THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — of a union with a man who wanted either the mental or the physical capacity to keep her and hers from poverty and distress. In the former case, she will have the dictates of prudence and of conscience inher favour. In both, the world will be lavish of its blame; but.in the latter only, could her portion be that of self-condemnation, added to irremediable misery. After all these considerations have been duly weighed, and every test of truth and -constancy applied to your affection for the object of your choice, there may yet remain considerations of infinite moment as they relate to your own fitness for entering upon the married state. — In the first place, what is it you are expecting ?—to be always flattered ? Depend upon it, if your faults were never brought to light before, they will be so now. Are you expecting to be always indulged? Depend upon it, if your temper was never tried before, it will be so now. Are you expecting to be always admired? Depend upon it, if you were never humble and insignificant before, 7 you will have to be so now. Yes, you had better make up your mind at once to be uninteresting as long as you live, to all except the companion of your home; and well will it be for you, if you can always. be interesting to him. You had better settle it in your calculations, that you will have to be crossed oftener than the day; and the part of wisdom will dictate, that if you persist in your determina- tion to be married, you shall not only be satisfied, but. cheerful to have these things so. One important truth sillintenils impressed upon your mind will materially assist in this desirable consummation— it is the superiority of your husband simply as a man. It is quite possible you may have more talent, with hi rher attainments, and you may also have been’ generally more os et ee - THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 25 admired; but this has nothing whatever to do with your position as a woman, which is, and must be, inferior to his as aman. For want of a satisfactory settlement of this point before marriage, how many disputes and misunder- standings have ensued, filling, as with the elements of dis- cord and strife, that world of existence which ought to be a smiling Eden of perpetual flowers—not of flowers which never fade; but of flowers which, if they must die, neither droop nor wither from the canker in their own bosoms, or the worm which lies at their own roots. It is a favourite argument with untried youth, that all things will come right in the end, where there is a sufti- ciency of love; but is it ‘enough for the subjection of a woman’s will, that she should love her husband? Alas! observation and experience alike convince us, that love has been well represented as a wayward boy ; and the alternate exhibitions of, contradiction and fondness which are dictated by affection alone, though interesting enough before the nuptial knot is tied, are certainly not those features in the aspect of his domestic affairs, whose combination a prudent man would most desire. It is to sound judgment then, and right principles, that we must look, with the blessing of the Bestower of these good gifts, for ability to make a husband happy—sound judgment to discern what is the place designed for him and for us in the arrangements of an all-wise Providence—and right principle to bring down every selfish desire, and every rebellious thought, to a due subserviency in the general estimate we form of individual duty. But supposing this point satisfactorily settled, and an earnest and prayerful determination entered into to be but a secondary being in the great business of conducting the general affairs of social life, there are a few things yet to 26 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. be thought of, a few duties yet to be discharged, before the final step can properly be taken. In the warmth and en- thusiasm of youthful feeling, few women look much beyond themselves in the calculations they make upon their mar- ried future. To be loved, and cherished, is all they appear solicitous to stipulate for, forgetting the many wants and wishes that will necessarily arise out of the connexion they are about toform. It may not be out of place then to re- mind them, how ‘essential it is to comfort in the married state, that there should have been beforehand a clear un- derstanding, and a strict agreement, with regard both to \ the general style of living, and the friendships and associa- ' tions to be afterwards rapikseabtiel. All secret wishes and intentions on these subjects, concealed by one party from the fear of their being displeasing to the other, are omi- nous of future disaster; and, indeed, I would almost ven- ture so far as to advise, that unless such preliminaries can_ be satisfactorily adjusted, the parties had better make up their minds to separate ; for these causes ‘of difference will be of such frequent occurrence, as to leave little prospect of domestic peace. If, however, the companion of your future home should not be disposed to candour on these points, you will pro- bably have opportunities of judging for yourself; and such means of forming your conclusions ought on no account to be neglected. You will probably, for instance, have op- portunities of ascertaining whether he is one of those who place their chief happiness in what is called good living, or, in other words, in the pleasures of the table ; and if in his estimation wine forms a prominent part of these enjoy- ments, let not the fear of the world’s censure operate for one moment against your separating yourself from such a man. If this should seem a harsh and hasty conclusion, THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. oP remember that the evils of a gross and self-indulgent habit are such as generally increase with the advance of years, and, as the natural spirits fail, and health becomes im- paired, are liable to give rise to the most fatal maladies both of mind and body. — If, then, there is danger and dis- gust to apprehend on the side of indulgence, it is on the other hand a hard and unthankfu! duty for the wife to be perpetually restraining the appetite of her husband, and preaching up the advantages of abstinence to the man she loves. Nor is it improbable, or of rare occurrence, that under such circumstances she should actually lose his af- fection, for men like not the constant imposition of re- straint upon their wishes; and so much happier—so much more privileged is the situation of her who can safely min- ister to the desires of her husband, that I would recom- mend to every woman to choose the man who can with propriety be indulged, rather than him whose habits of self-gratification already require restraint. f As the time of your marriage draws near, you will naturally be led with ease and pleasure into that kind of unlimited confidence with the companion of your future lot, which forms in reality the great charm of married life. But even here a caution is required, for though all the future, as connected with your own experience, must be- long to him, all the past must belong to others.) Never, _ therefore, make it the subject of your confidential inter- course to relate the history of your former love affairs, if you have had any. It is bad taste to allude to them at all, but especially so under such circumstances ; and although such details might serve to amuse for the moment, they would in all probability be remembered against you at _ some future time, when each day will be sufficiently dar- _kened by its own passing clouds. EI ae. ee ae pathy, ae Se 2 siomagenel tpRee Babe Sha 28 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. With regard to all your other love affairs then, let “ by-gones be by-gones.” It could do no good whatever for you to remember them ; and the more you are dissoci- ated from every other being of his own sex, the more will the mind of your husband dwell upon you with unalloyed satisfaction. On the other hand, let no ill-advised curio- sity induce you to pry too narrowly into his past life as regards affairs of this nature. However close your inqui- ries, they may still be baffled by evasion ; and if it be an important point with you, as many women profess to make it, to occupy an unsullied page in the affections of your husband, it is wiser and safer to take for granted this flat- tering fact, than to ask whether any other name has been written on that page before.) In his case, as well as your own, both honour and delicacy would suggest the pro- priety of drawing a veil over the past. It is -séificteat for the happiness of married life that you share together the present and the future. ) With such a field for the interchange of mutual thought, there can surely be no want of interest in your conversa- tion, for the arrangements necessary to be made are so new to both, and consequently so fraught with importance, that parties thus circumstanced, are prorertaaay good company only to each other. Amongst these arrangements, if the choice of a resi- dence be permitted you, and especially if your own temper is not good, or your manners not conciliating, avoid, as far as you can do so with prudence, and without thwarting your husband’s wishes, any very close contact with his nearest relatives. There are not wanting numerous in- stances in which the greatest intimacy and most familiar associations of this kind have been kept up with mutual benefit and satisfaction ; but generally speaking it is a risk, THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 29 and you may not yourself be sufficiently amiable to bear, with a meek and quiet spirit, the general oversight, and well-meant interference, which mothers and sisters natu- rally expect to maintain in the household of a son and a brother. These considerations, however, must of course give way to the wishes of the husband and his family, as itis of the utmost importance not to offend his relatives in the outset by any appearance of contradiction or self- will; and besides which, he and his friends will be better judges than you can be, of the general reasons for fixing your future residence. And now, as the time draws near, are you quite sure that your. means are sufficient to enable you to begin the world with independence and respectability ? Perhaps you are not a judge, and if not you have no right to think of becoming a wife; for young men in general have little opportunity of making themselves acquainted with house- hold economy; and who then is to make those innumera- ble calculations upon which will depend, not only the right government of your establishment, but also your peace of mind, your integrity of character, and your influence for time and for eternity ? Oh! what a happy day would that be for Britain, _ whose morning should smile upon the making of a law for _ allowing no woman to marry until she had become an j economist, thoroughly acquainted with the necessary expenses of a respectable mode of living, and able to cal- culate the requirements of comfort, in connexion with all the probable contingencies of actual life. If such a law Should be so cruel as to suspend for a yearor more every approach. to the hymeneal altar, it would, at least, be equally effectual in averting that bitter repentance with nN which so many look back to the hurried and thoughtless - 30 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. manner in which they rushed blindfold. upon an untried fate, and only opened their eyes to behold their madness and folly, when it was too late to avert the fatal conse- quences. As a proof how little young men in general are ac- quainted with these matters, I have heard many who fully calculated upon living in a genteel and comfortable style, declare that a hundred pounds was: sufficient for the fur- nishing of a house. Thus a hundred pounds on one side, either saved, borrowed, or. begged, and fifty on the other, are not unfrequently deemed an ample provision, With a salary of two hundred, to begin the world with. It is true the young man finds that salary barely sufficient for him- self; but then, he hears and reads how much is saved under good female management, and he doubts not but his deficiencies willbe more than made up by his wife. It is true the young lady, with her ill-health, and music lessons, and change of air, costs her father at least fifty pounds per annum, but she does not see how she shall cost her hus- band any thing at all! Sweet soul! She needs so little, and really would be content with any thing in the world, so that she might but live with him. Nay, she who has never learned to wait upon herself, would almost do without aservant, so self-denying, so devoted is her love. Thus the two hopeful parties reason, and should a pa- _. rent or a friend advise delay, the simple facts of their hay- ing been engaged, having expected to be married, and Lavin’ made up their minds, appear to furnish sufficient arguments why they should proceed in their career of rash- ness and of folly. Parents who are kindly disposed, will hardly see their children rush upon absolute want at the _ commencement of their married life. The mother there- fore pleads, the father calculates, and by deferring some of rE Gort Re OD fr ean Mee 8 rin i cs sit Ss THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 31 his own payments, or by borrowing from a friend, he is enabled to spare a little more than was at first promised, though only as a loan. And how is this small additional sum too frequently appropriated? To the purchase of luxuries which the pa- rents of the newly married pair waited ten or twenty years before they thought of indulging themselves with ; and those who have tried every expedient, and drained every creditable source, to gratify the wishes of their imprudent children, have to contemplate the heart-sickening specta- cle of beholding them begin the world in a style superior to that which their own industry and exertion, persevered in through half a lifetime, has alone enabled them to at- tain. Mm Now, though the delicate young lady may think she has little to do with these things, the honest-hearted Eng- _lishwoman, especially the practical Christian, will find that it belongs to her province to see that just and right princi- “ples are made the foundation of her character as the mis- tress of a house; and in order to carry out these principles so as to make them effectual in their operation upon her *fellow-beings, and acceptable in the sight of God, she must begin in time, and while the choice remains to her ,to practise self-denial, even in that act which is most. inti- mately connected with her present and future happiness. : If the attention to economy, and the right feeling with ' regard to integrity, which I have so earnestly recommend- ed in the ‘ Women,’ and the * Daughters of England,’ have been studied in early youth, she will need no caution on the subject of delaying her marriage until prudence shall _ point out the proper time for her settlement in life. She will = a holier, deeper kind of love than that which would plunge the object of it into irremediable difficulties for her ae a tA vee ee eg Ye le A ive ¥ “Sy mee og SRR oan ceaarisers ecu its 524 Acc gt a ri aii hs 0S Ray Dee 1 ASD re ENN siete Dnata 1 i (Pg Sae eae SCR ne. ean a , ie yee ; i ‘ $ + 32 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. sake; and though he may be inexperienced and impru- dent, she will feel it a sacred trust, to have: pemernited to her the care of his character and circumstances in. these important and momentous concerns. Serious and right views on subjects of this nature, are so intimately connected with the reality of the Christian character, that it is difficult to imagine how a high profes- ~~ sion of religion can. exist in connexion with the kind of. wilful and selfish imprudence above described. One thing, however, 1s certain, that let a woman’s religious profes- sion be what it may, if she be rash and inconsiderate on the subject of marriage, consulting only her own gratifica- tion, and mistaking mere fondness. for deep and enduring affection, she has need to go back to the school of mental discipline, in which she is yet a novice; and instead of tak- ing upon herself the honourable title of a wife, to sit in humility and self-abasement in the lowest seat, - seeking those essentialendowments of mind and of heart, without which, the blessing of her heavenly Father must be exe «tt pected in vain. ee Above all other considerations th2n, as the bridal dey draws near, this thought will suggest itself to the serious » and enlightened mind—What am I seeking in the great change I am about to make? Am I seeking an escape — from duty to enjoyment, from restraint to indulgence, from _ wholesome dicipline to perfect ease? . Let us hope that these questions may be answered — satisfactorily, and that the youne woman now about to take upon herself the charge of new duties, has thorough- ly weighed the responsibility these duties will bring along with them; and thatin an humble and prayerful spirit _ she is enquiring, in what way she may conduct herself, — so that all the tuciabes of her hoyselaed shall be united — em Be ee en THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 33 as a Christian family, strengthening and encouraging each other in the service of the Lord. In so important an undertaking, it cannot be deemed presumptuous to determine, with the Divine blessing, to begin with a high standard of moral excellence. What- ever our standard is, we never rise above it; and so great are the miscalculations usually made in a prospective view of married life, that one half at least of its trials, tempta- tions, and hinderances to spiritual advancement are entirely overlooked. Besides which, so much of the moral and religious character of a household depends upon the female who controls its domestic regulations, that the woman who should rush heedlessly into this situation, expecting to find it easier to act conscientiously than she had ever done before, would most likely be punished for her presumption by discovering, when it was too late, that instead of reli- gious helps on every hand, she was in reality plunged into _new difficulties, and placed in the midst of hinderances to ~her spiritual improvement, greater and more appalling than it had ever entered into her imagination to conceive. But still there is no need to be cast down even while ‘suffering under the natural consequences of this fearful mis- take, for He who has said commit thy way unto the Lord, will assuredly be near in the time of trouble, when the child of sorrow, sincerely repenting of her blindness and her ‘folly, shall meekly and fervently implore his promised aid. She will then have learned to feel, that let her confidence in the companion of her choice be what it may; let him be to her as the father she has forsaken, the brothers she has left, and the friends whose sweet fellowship she will never ore enjoy ; there will still be trials in her lot, in which he “cannot participate, and depths in her soul which he cannot fathom. He may take her to his bosom as the shepherd et 34 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. takes the lamb; but the green pastures and the refreshing dew will not be his to give. He may guard her safety as the soldier guards the camp; but her enemies may be too subtle for his eye, and too powerful for his arm. He may be to her as the morning to the opening flower; but the sun which gives that morning all its light, will be high in the heavens, and if he shines not, chests will be no real brightness in her day. And all this insufficiency may still be felt without a shadow being cast upon her earthly love. Indeed, we never err more fatally, or do greater injustice to the nature and attributes both of religion and of love, than when we blend them together, and expect from one what the other only can bestow. If love sometimes assists us by rendering certain portions of the path of duty more alluring, in how many instances does it throw all its allurements on the opposite side; and in such cases, how hard it is that religion should be charged with the sad coe which are debs to follow! I speak not here of love as what it might be, but as what itis. I speak not of that holy and seraphic ardour, which a guardian angel might be supposed to feel for the welfare of the being whose earthly course it watched with unceasing care; nor yet of that pure sentiment, scarcely less earthly in its tendency, the chastened and subordinate attachment of a redeemed and regenerated soul; I speak of love as a fitful and capricious passion, asserting unreason- able mastery over the human mind, rejecting all control, mixing itself with all motives, assuming all forms so as to work out its own purposes, and never failing to pistons an earthly paradise to its blind followers. It is of such love, I repeat, that it must be kept apart from that great work which religion has to do alone, be- cause the strivings of the spirit in its religious exercises ee Ne J Vi Te a es vee THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 35 ean only be fully known and appreciated by Him who was in all points tempted as we are; and because’ these groan- ings, which cannot be uttered to any human ear, are merci-’ fully listened to by Him who is touched with a feeling of our infirmities. | "It is highly important, therefore, that the woman who ventures to become a wife, should not be leaning upon the frail reed of human love for her support. Indeed, it is more than probable that her husband will himself require assistance; and, excellent as he may have hitherto ap- peared to herself and others, it is equally probable that on a nearer inspection there will be found in his religious char- acter defects. and inconsistencies, which will present. in- superable obstacles in the way, if her dependence has been solely upon him. If, however, her dependence has been rightly placed upon a higher foundation than that of human excellence or human love, these defects of character will neither hinder nor discourage her. To work out her own Salvation with fear and trembling, will be the great object of her life; and while engaged with all her energies in this first duty, she will be more occupied with anxiety to draw others along with her, than with disappointment at their being less perfect than she had imagined them. As we must all die alone, so must we live in our spirit- ual experience. ** Not even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile or sigh. Each in his hidden sphere of joy or wo Our hermit spirits dwell, and range apart ; Our eyes see all around in gloom or glow, Hues of their own, fresh borrowed from the heart.” Human sympathy may do much to comfort, human ad- vice to guide, and human example to encourage; but 30° THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. whether married or single, whether associated with others, or separate and alone; we must all bear our own burdens, perform our own duties, answer to our own consciences, reap our own rewards, and receive our own sentence at the bar of eternal judgment. - If this be an awful, and in somerespects a gloomy thought, in others it is most consoling ; for we need in real- ity but one Friend in our religious experience. \ All others are liable to fail us in the hour of need, and at best they can do little for us. But with this friend on our side, no one can hurt or hinder us. Under his protection, whatever wounds we receive from any mortal foe, our immortal na- ture will remain uninjured. This Friend then is all-suffi- cient, and, blessed be his holy name, he ever liveth to make intercession for us. 3 CHAPTER II. THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. One great fault which the writer of these pages has al- ready presumed to find with female education, as conduct- ed in the present day, is, that it fails to prepare the char- acter, and to form the habits, for those after duties, which are as rigorously exacted, as if the whole training of youth had been strictly in accordance with the requirements of — middle life. The tone of common conversation, and the ~ moral atmosphere of general society, are strongly tinctured with the same fault—a tendency to encourage thoughts and feelings, wholly at variance with the line of conduct point- j ‘i “~ THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFR. af ed out by religion, and even by common sense, as that which is most likely to be conducive to ultimate happiness. But in no other circumstances of life is this want of pro- Spective discipline at once so obvious, and so lamentable, as in the whole progress of that system of self-recommenda- tion which men call courtship, and which unquestionably deserves that name, if to win the partial favour of an inex- perienced, and perhaps a vain woman, be the only object they have in view. It is true, that the man who wishes to gain the affections of a woman, must first endeavour to ren- der himself agreeable to her; but all I would ask is, that while endeayouring to gain her love, he should at the same time take some pains to make her worthy of his own, by treating her at least with the faithfulness and sincerity of a friend. Nor need he fear that he shall be a loser in the end by this mode of treatment, for how much greater is the flattery of being loved in spite of our faults, than of being supposed to have none! If men would, then, in common honesty, state what points they object to in the woman they admire, and what they really do require in a wife, they would not only find their influence, during the season of courtship, productive of the most beneficial consequences, but they would them- selves escape a world of disappointment afterwards, while they would save the object of their affections all that astonishment, and wounded feeling, which naturally arise out of finding herself convicted of innumerable faults which were never so much as hinted at before. Instead of the candid and generous treatment here recommended, how often is the progress of courtship no better than a system of fulsome adulation, and consequently of falsehood, carried on exactly as if marriage was indeed the end, instead of the beginning, of their mutual exist- 3 38 ‘ ‘THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ence. And thie the affair goes on—nay, slid becomes even worse, until the near eich of that day which is to make them one; for friends and relatives now take the same tone, and the bride elect 1s set apart from all domes- tic discipline, the recipient of flattering attentions, the object of universal interest, arid the centre towards which all calculations and all expressions of kindness equally tend. Persons sometimes appear Jeast selfish itioai their self- love is fully and freely gratified; because they have then nothing left to require or to complain of. Thus the bride elect always appears amiable, because everybody waits upon her, everybody flatters her, and everybody promotes the gratification of her wishes to the utmost of their power. There is now no self-denial, no giving place to others, no privation of the expected means of enjoyment—or, to sum up all in one word, there is no neglect to try her selfishness, or put her meekness to the test. How should she be other- wise than amiable ? In this manner time passes on, self being rote daily more and more the object of universal attention, until at last, the bride becomes personally, almost an idol, so lavish is the expenditure bestowed upon her now, compared with what it has ever been before; so attractive, so becoming, is every ornament she wears; and so lively is the interest, so profound the respect, with which she is treated on that. eventful day, which dawns upon her departure from her parent’s home. | Far be it from me to attempt to divest that day of its. solemn and important character, or to lower the tone of feeling with which it ought to be regarded; but asa. lover. of truth, and a somewhat studious observer of the days” which follow, own I should like to see the preparation THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. Si BO of a bride consist more of mental discipline than of per- sonal adornment—more of the resources of a well-stored understanding, already thoroughly informed on the sub- jects of relative position and practical duty; and with these, the still higher ornament of a chastened spirit, al- ready imbued with a lively consciousness of the deep responsibilities devolving upon a married woman. After such a preparation, there would be no unwelcome truth to reyeal, no unexpected reproof to endure. To. fall short of the high standard of excellence in almost every act, and» not always to be graciously forgiven, would be a matter of calculation, which, with true Christian meek- ness, she would be prepared to meet; while to set aside all selfish considerations, and to look almost exclusively to the happiness of others for her own, would already have become so habitual as to require no new effort to carry out through the intercourse of daily life. Happy, and wise as well as happy, would that man be, who should make himself content to wait for the dawning of his bridal day, until the woman of his choice should have been thus prepared. But instead of this, man eagerly secures his prize; and, like the training of a snared bird, that discipline must al] come afterwards, which is to end in domestic harmony, or domestic strife. _ But let us turn the page, and after welcoming home the happy couple from the wedding tour, let. us venture to whisper into the ear of the bride a few sage words, from which, whether properly prepared or not, she may possi- bly, from the simple fact of her inexperience, be able to gather something for her future good. If ever, in the course of human life, indecision may be accounted a merit rather than a defect, it is so in the con- duct of a young and newly married woman. While every AO THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. circumstance around her is new and untried, the voice of prudence dictates caution before any important step is taken, either with regard to the formation of intimacies, or the general style and order of living. A warm-hearted, de- pendent, and affectionate young woman, ardently attached to her husband, will be predisposed to lean upon the kind- ness of his relatives, and even to enter rashly into the most intimate and familiar intercourse with them. Buteven this amiable impulse should be checked by the remembrance, that in all such intimacies, it is much more difficult to re- cede than to advance, and that when familiar intimacy is once established, there is no such thing as drawing back without personal affront. _ It will happen, too, unless the husband’s relatives are something more than human, that amongst themselves there will not be perfect unanimity of feeling. They will probably be divided mto little parties, in which individuals on one side will look with partial or censorious eyes upon the sayings and doings of those on the other. Such partial views, when they give a tone to general conversation, are very infectious, and a sensitive mind much interested, and keenly alive to impressions from -such a quarter, will be but too likely to become suddenly and powerfully biased by the same prejudices which pervade the circle into which the youthful bride is introduced. . | Nothing, however, can be more injudicious than for her to take part in these family matters. If possible, she ought to wait and see for herself, before her opinion is formed upon any of the subjects in question. And this, by great care, may be done without any violation of that respectful behaviour whick she ought to lay down for herself as a rule, in associating with her husband’s relatives, and from which - she ought never to deviate, let her opinion of their merits and attractions be what it may. : THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. Al It is sometimes supposed that the maintenance of per- sonal dignity is incompatible with this exercise of respect towards others. But on no subject do young people make greater mistakes, than on that of dignity. True dignity must always be founded upon a right understanding of our own position in society ; for the presumption which would assume what properly belongs to another, and what in no way appertains to the individual who makes this lamenta- ble mistake, is as far removed from dignity, as from right feeling and common sense. As a wife, then, a woman may be always dignified, though, simply as a woman, she may at the same time be humble, and asa Christian self- abased. As a wife—as the chosen companion of an hon- ourable and upright man, it is her duty so to regulate her whole conduct, that she shall neither offend others, nor bring ‘offence upon herself; and this is never more effectually done than by standing aloof from family disputes, and taking no part either in the partialities or the prejudices of those with whom she is associated. It is perfectly consistent with personal dignity, that a wife should in all respects be the mistress of her own house. If, therefore, the husband’s relations have been accustomed to take part in his domestic concerns, it is highly import- ant that they should do so no longer. Correct-minded persons will need no hint of this kind from the wife her- self. Such persons will be sufficiently aware, that the interior of her establishment must be kept sacred to her alone; and that, while the greatest freedom is maintained both in asking and in granting favours, there must be no intrusion on their part into the mysteries of the kitchen, the store-room, or the pantry, without an invitation from the mistress, either expressed or implied. Should there be wanting in the husband’s relatives this es a a es == NS i. vaaree MENS Sort) hee TRA Ah : ag Sea * ble coat Waray ast tads pons og. tS ORNS eam ee: t DNS 42 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. peculiar kind of delicacy of feeling, it will be necessary to devise some plan calculated not to offend, by which they may be made to understand that you do not wish them, in your own house, entirely to share all things in common ; for let the degree of kindness on both sides be what it may, your education and theirs will in all probability have been so different, that circumstances must necessarily arise, cal- culated to draw forth remarks which cannot always be acceptable; and it is therefore your wisest plan, to draw the line of demarcation on the side of safety. | Nor is it necessary that, in thus asserting your rights, suspicion should be awakened of any want of kindly feel- ing. To obviate all chance of this, it would be wise to take advantage of the advice of your husband’s relatives in all cases where they are willing to give, and where you are prepared to adopt it; and, at the same time, to be © careful that an excess of kindness should accompany that uncompromising defence of your own dignity, which every woman has a right to make. No room will then be left for complaint, and you will enjoy the satisfaction of show- ing your husband how highly you esteem his relatives, and how much you are prepared to serve and oblige them for his sake. : ~ It is a painful fact, and one of vulgar notoriety, that all eyes are fixed upon a bride, some to see how she is dressed, others to observe how she behaves, and not a few to as- certain, as far as they are able, whether she has come from a respectable home, or, in other words, whether she has — raised herself in worldly circumstances by the connection — she has made. This exercise of idle and impertinent curi- — osity might appear a little too contemptible to be met with | any kind of consideration, were it not the interest of a — married woman to impress her new relations with an idea 19 ¥ THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. 43 of her previous importance, and her unquestionable claims to respect. Even servants are much influenced by this impression, and it was, therefore, a prudent plan adopted by our grandmothers, and still kept up in some parts of England, for the bride to go well appointed to her hus- band’s home, well supplied with a store of good household linen, and with abundance of such clothes as are not un- likely to become useless by being unfashionable. These things are accustomed to be discussed amongst servants and dependants. From one little circle of kitchen or laundry gossip, they extend to another; and well if they do not find their way through the same channel to the parlour fireside ; well, if the humiliating remark is never made there, that the bride left every thing of importance to be purchased with her husband’s money. Although it may seem rather an ungracious sort of warning, thus to prepare the young bride for a kind of cri- tical inspection scarcely consistent with kind and generous feeling, it is nevertheless necessary in such a world as ours, to calculate upon much which the external aspect of society would scarcely lead us to expect. Yet we must not for this reason forget the many instances in which the most sincere and cordial kindness is called forth on the part of the hus- band’s relatives, when they welcome to her new home one who is literally received into the bosom of their family, and cherished as a lamb of their own fold. In the majority of cases, too, it happens that the bride is no stranger, that her family and her husband’s have been in habits of intimacy, and that the admission of this new link = Ente Eo is but the strenethening of that intimacy into more endur- ing and affectionate union on both sides. In both these cases, the bride has much to console and support her in the duties she has undertaken; and a young heart can scarcely 44 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. fail to feel impressed with gratitude for this voluntary offer- ing of a new and lasting home, with all its kindred associa- - tions of parents, brothers, sisters, and friends. If, on the one hand, it is not only lawful but expedient c to endeavour to maintain that dignity which properly be- longs to a married woman; on the other, it is necessary to : act with the most scrupulous regard to that minute and del- icate line, beyond which dignity degenerates into a mere as- . sumption of importance. It is unquestionably an honour- able distinction to be the chosen companion of an enlig¢ht- ened and good man; but we must not forget, that nature never yet formed any woman too destitute of attractions, or , sent her forth into the world too meanly endowed, for her : to be chosen as a wife. The dignity derived from mar- riage can, therefore, only be a reflected one; and has no- ‘thing whatever to do with the merits or the capabilities of the married woman. I once heard a newly married lady complaining in com- pany with great vehemence of something which had been said to her by a single sister, and concluding many of her Sentences with this remark—* All that Miss B— said was, I dare say, sensible enough; but J, you know, am married” ——as if that alone had been sufficient to give weight to the scale in which good sense, and almost every other good quality, appeared to be wanting. | In no part of the conduct of a bride will keen eyes be more scrutinizing than here. The husband’s relatives es- pecially will be ready to detect the least assumption of supe- - riority to themselves. — If, therefore, there has been any dif- « ference of rank or station in favour of the bride, she will act most wisely as regards herself, and most generously as regards her husband, by keeping every sign or evidence of — her having filled a more exalted station entirely out of sight. eS n= Es ees LOR NE TOS > 7 eae THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. AD5 All her eccentricities, too, must share the same fate, at ~ least, until her new relations shall have learned to love her well enough to tolerate them for her sake. At first there will be no such charitable feeling extended towards those peculiarities of character with which they cannot sympa- _ thize, perhaps because they cannot understand them. She _ must now be judged of by a new rule. Singularities of _ Manner, scarcely perceived at home, or kindly borne with as a necessary part of individuality, will now appear not only glaring, but inconsistent and absurd. Faulis of tem- per, too long, and perhaps too leniently indulged, will now be met with opposition, and have the necessity of their ex- istence called in question ; while all those little playful sal- lies of local wit or humor, which were wont to fill up the blanks of social life, may possibly be heard without a smile, or wondered at as unmeaning, and in bad taste. m4, It is unquestionably the best policy then for a bride to ~ be in all things the opposite of eccentric. Her character, if she have any, will develope itself in time; and nothing can be gained, though much may be lost, by exhibiting its peculiarities before they are likely to be candidly judged or rightly. understood. In being unobtrusive, quiet, impar- tially polite to all, and willing to bend to circumstances, consists the great virtue of a bride; and though to sink, even for a short time, into an apparent nonentity, may be a little humbling to one who has occupied a distinguished . place amongst her former friends, the prudent woman will be abundantly repaid, by being thus enabled to make her own observations upon the society and the circumstances around her, to see what pleasant paths she may with safety _ pursue, or what opportunities are likely to open for a fuller s development of her powers, either natural or acquired. # With regard to the duties of charity, and indeed of ° Fi SN 6h III ss nT iTS te a a EN ne SOR il CAS RSet rs eth na Pah sh ae i , ig A ‘ Mast) *ftonk RES oe es PCr de PNR’ at 46 | THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. kindness in general, the cordial reception a bride usually meets with, the interest she has SO recently excited, and the favourable aspect worn by every thing around her, na- turally inspire in her mind so much that is agreeable in return, and awaken on her part so many feelings of kind- ness, and good-will, that she becomes more than usually anxious to manifest her benevolence, even towards per- sons, who, under less favourable. circumstances, would have excited no interest whatever. | Sie Those who make it their business to check such feel- ings, have a hard and ungrateful duty to perform; and yet, where the foundation of such acts of benevolence as are thus performed, is feeling only, the danger is, that a system of behaviour will be rashly adopted, which the emotions of after life will not be sufficiently powerful con- sistently to maintain; and the consequences of such falling off will necessarily be, that the sorrowful or the indigent will have to endure a degree of disappointment or pi ooh for which they were but little prepared. There can be neither injustice nor unkindness in not listening, in the first instance, to claims which you are not able to satisfy ; but there is cruelty—absolute cruelty, in withdrawing your attention and interest from persons who have learned to look to you for sympathy and cordial feel- ing, and in refusing your assistance to those who have learned to look to you for support. As each person ‘can only satisfy a certain number of claims, it follows as a necessary consequence, that by engaging at once in too many, some, or perhaps all, must in the end be suffered to fall into neg legis The first year ‘of married life may sheep be regarded as not likely to present one-half of the claims upon individual or household charity which will follow in the second and ET PRS ae THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. AT the third ; would it not, therefore, be wise to lay by against a future day, a little fund or store for this purpose? and by always keeping something i m hand to be appropriated to charitable uses alone, there can be no surprise when the payment of a bill is due, to find that part of the amount has already been given to relieve a family in distress, and that the payment of the whole must therefore be deferred. All such miscalculations, and falling short of funds as these, cannot be too scrupulously guarded against ; for not only is their influence bad, as they operate against the prompt discharge of pecuniary debts, but their tendency is equally to be feared, as they often warp the mind from its benevolent and kindly purposes, by a frequent repetition of regret, that sums have been thoughtlessly expended in charity, which ought to have been otherwise employed. And here I would observe, that the less we are induced by circumstances to grudge our past charities, or regret our past kindness, the better it is for our own hearts, and for the general tone and temper of our minds. Indeed, where acts of charity are performed with right motives, not for the applause of men, or even for the satisfaction of having done a good deed, or brought about a good end; but sim- ply from a love to God, and in obedience to his commands, there can be no such thing as looking back with regret to the act itself, whatever its consequences may be. He who has commanded us to visit the fatherless and the widow in their affliction, has not given us more than human pene- tration to judge of the exact amount of their necessities, or their deserts. If, therefore, we have erred, it has only been in the proportion, or the application, of our bestow- ments. The act of giving remains as much a duty as ever, and to her who has learned to look upon the good things of this life as only lent to her for a brief season of trial, A THE WIVES OF ‘ENGLAND. this sacred duty will be found saan wit the highest enjoyments of which, in our eee state of “existence, we are capable. But in order to enjoy the leary of giving ‘with the greatest zest, it is highly important that we attend to the. strict rules of economy. J have already written much, and would that others would write more, and better, on this subject ; for until we can separate in the minds of young women their favourite idea of lavish expenditure, from that of generosity, there is little good to be expect- ed from the Wives of England, and little happiness to be looked for in their far-famed homes. Would that philan- thropists of every description. then, would give their at- tention to this subject in detail, and lay it before the pub- licin a manner that would render it intelligible to the fe- male part of the community ; while, communicated through them, it would find its way to every house and every cot- tage in our land—not that economy which would lead to a useless hoarding up of money, but to the glorious ob- - ject of effecting the greatest possible amount of good with the smallest means. , si Until this most refined and delicate artis made. sys- tematically a part of female education, we must look +o that stern teacher experience, to show us, late in life, what might have been accomplished by a combination of econ- — omy with kindness, had we but begun the study of this de- — lightful art in time. We must look to the items that have been absolutely wasted, in almost every thing we have had to do, for want of being acquainted with a better mode of doing it; and, adding these together, we must look to the helpless nal the destitute, and see what an amount of suf- fering might have been relieved by our economy, if — through a long lifetime we had turned every thing commit- _ THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. 49 ted to our care, or granted for our use, to the best possible account. But we must look beyond this. Yes, we must look with blushing and confusion of face to that want of moral rectitude which rendered us worse than ignorant of the mischief we were doing—to that culpable and degrad- ing apathy—that recklessness of all responsibility with which we conducted our domestic and personal affairs, re- gardless of each item wasted, until the whole became a mighty and fearful mass of evidence against us, perpetu- ally reminding us, through the medium of our penurious charities, our scanty means, and our apprehensions of the fearful reckoning of each coming day—reminding us_ by these humiliating remembrancers of what we have lost beyond all possibility of recovery. 1 am, not however one of those who would recommend the sacrifice either of comfort or respectability for the sake of economy. A certain air of comfort, a certain degree of respectability, regulated by the sphere in which the parties move, should never be lost sight of by the mistress of a house. More especially, there should be no mean- ness behind the scenes, to support an unwarrantable dis- play in public. There is a moral degradation in such meanness wherever it exists; and those persons who have habitually to hide themselves, or to conceal their dinner- table, when a guest approaches, must be living either above or below the line which strict integrity would point out to be observed—they must either be making a figure at other times, and in other places, which they are not able consistently to support; or they must be dressing and living beneath that standard of respectability which pro- perly belongs to their character and station. In order to proportion all these matters fairly, the bride ~ must be content to wait until time and experience shall ae : fe NE pt PERT Ls Way te WV ow a Ae ~ i Pa ale) ees ; es 50 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND, have brought to light her true sian and her actual means. The first year of married life will probably be less expensive than the second, and the second less so than. the third. Her household furniture, and her own clothing, being good and new, there can be little wanted for repairs ; and, therefore, in her domestic expenditure, as well: as in her charities, this year will afford no criterion of the claims she must afterwards expect. : 3 It is, perhaps, owing to this fallacious appearance in their domestic. affairs, that so many inexperienced persons are led on to purchase first one article of luxury or indul- gence, and then another, even after their better judgment had dictated that such things should be done without; and - thus, because they did not find housekeeping at first so expensive as they had anticipated, they have launched out into extravagance which they have had bitterly to regret. Such persons are apt to say, “ there can be no loss in furni- ture, each article will always sell. for its full value—there can be no waste in silver, because it is easily got rid of for the price of its own weight.” But what absurdity is this ! As if, after having made a certain figure before the world, and in society, it was as easy to retreat and sink into a lower grade, as it is to-sell a sofa, or a silver fork. Why, this very act of assuming a certain position, and this very dread of falling back, is what the whole world is striving about at this very hour. It is what so many heads are calcu- lating upon, what so many hands are working out, and what so many hearts are beating for. Whether we look at the wear-and-tear of mental and animal life in our great cities, our ships upon the ocean, our labourers on the land, our congregated thousands pent up in heated rooms, and our miners digging in the bowels of the earth; or whether we turn the page of man’s history, and looking at the € eee THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. 51 inner movements of this great principle, behold him in his moments of unrest, note down the fluttering of his ambi- tious hopes, the agony of his suspense, his disappointment or his triumph, it is all the effect of one great cause, and that the strongest and most universal which prevails in highly civilized communities—a desire to keep advancing in the scale of society, and a dread of falling back from the position already held. Let us then at least talk common sense; and in doing this, I would advise the newly married woman to look at things in general as they really are, and not as they might be. She will then see that nothing is more difficult to human _ nature, than to come down even one step from any height it has attained, whether imaginary or real. If, therefore, the appearance a young couple make on their first outset in life be ever’so little beyond their means, so far from their being willing to reduce their appearance or style of living to a lower scale, they will ever afterwards be perplexed by de- vices, and harassed by endeavours, to maintain in all re- spects the appearance they have so imprudently assumed. This perpetual straitness and inadequacy of means to effect the end desired, is of itself sufficient to poison the fountain of domestic concord at its source. It is bad enough to have innumerable wants created in our own minds which our utmost efforts are unequal to satisfy; but it is worse, as many thousands can attest, in addition to this, for the husband and the wife to be perpetually disputing at their own fireside, about what expenses can be done without, and what cannot. Yet all these consequences follow, and worse, and more calamitous than tongue or pen can de- scribe, from the simple fact of having begun a new esta- blishment on too expensive a scale. It may seem like a fanciful indulgence of morbid feel- v. OF ILL Le . age Std Re oer ae ae ;s aims Bi cies “SpA ea, = pint 5 3: ae Oe Yeah 52 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ing, but I own my attention has often been arrested in the streets of London, by a spectacle which few ladies would stop to contemplate—a pawnbroker’s shop. And I have imagined I could there trace the gradual fall from these high beginnings in the new hearth-rug scarcely worn, the gaudy carpet with its roses scarcely soiled, the flowery tea- tray, and, worst ofall, the bride’s white veil. What a breaking-up, I have thought, must there have been of some little establishment, before the dust of a single twelve- month had fallen on its hearth !—these articles perhaps disposed of to defray the expenses of illness, or to satisfy the very creditors of whom they were obtained. on trust. Now, though I imagine myself to be addressing a class of persons far removed from all liabilities of this kind, yet, proportioned to their higher respectability, is their greater influence ; and just so far as that influence is on the side of prudence cen economy, will their example operate benefi- cially upon the classes beneath them. It seems to be the nature of evil universally to diffuse itself, by rendering one wrong action almost necessary to. another. Thus no human being can say, “I will commit this particular sin, and go no further.” Most especially is this the case with every kind of deception, just as one wil- ful deviation from truth draws after it a long train of false- hood. Every deviation from the line of integrity, is fol- lowed by the same inevitable consequences, and thus where persons have made up their. minds to exhibit before the world a style of dress, or a mode of living, beyond what their circumstances are able consistently to support, an endless train of meanness, artifice, and practical falsehood, is almost. sure to follow. How much better is it then, to begin the world with an honest heart and a clear con~ science, as regards these points of duty, and neither to carry ‘s os yi 2 Se ee THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. 53 on behind the scenes a disgraceful system of extracting from comfort what extravagance demands, nor of exhibit- ing at first a transient display of luxury or pomp, to be repented of for the remainder of life. All this, however, requires some self-denial, much principle, and much love. It requires self-denial, because while almost all the world is progressing at this rate, to assume a plainer and more simple mode of living, necessa- rily brings with it a suspicion of being unable to live dif- ferently. It requires principle, because temptations pre- sent themselves on every hand to purchase what we wish for at lessthan its apparent value ; and it requires love, because with true and deep affection, the wife is bound up in the interests of her husband, that all things become light in comparison with his temporal and eternal good. Love, therefore, is admirably ‘calculated to lessen all privations arising from a conscientious adherence to strict integrity on these points. Nothing shows more plainly the mistake under which people in general labour, with regard to the degree of mental and moral capability requisite in a really good wife, than the common expression used to describe a merely _ well-disposed and ignorant female, when it is said of her, “that she is “ a good sort of body, and will make an excel- lent wife.”? The generality of men, and even some of the most intelligent amongst them, appear peculiarly disposed to make the experiment of marrying such women, as if the very fact of their deficiency in moral discipline, and intel- lectual power, was of itself a recommendation, rather than otherwise, in the mistress of a family ; and until women shall really find themselves neglected by the loftier sex, and actually consigned to oblivion, because they are indolent, selfish, or silly, itis to be feared that books may be multi- 54. THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. plied on this subject, and even sermons preached, with little or no effort. ; Still there is surely something in the deep fidlert of wo- man capable of a nobler ambition than that of merely secur- ~ ing as a husband the man she most admires. To make that husband happy, to raise his character, to give dignity to his house, and to train up his children in the path of wisdom— these are the objects which a true wife will not rest satisfi- ed without endeavouring to attain. And how is all this to be done without reflection, system, and self-government ? Simply to mean well, may be the mere impulse of a child, or an idiot; but to know how to act well, so as that each successive kind impulse shall be made to tell upon the wel- fare and the happiness of others, is the highest lesson which the school of moral discipline can teach. Nor is it only by the exercise of a high orderof talent that this branch of wisdom can be attained. It is by using such talent as we have, by beginning early to observe and to think, to lay down rules. for self-discipline, and to act upon them, so that in after years they shall have become too fa- miliar and habitual to require an effort to maintain. Thus it is unquestionably better that the great work of mental discipline should be commenced after marriage, than not at all; but the woman who delays this work until that time, is* bt much wiser than the man who should have to learn to walk after he had engaged to run a race. | Already, even in the first year of marrie | life, all the previously formed habits a woman has indulged begin to tell upon a larger scale than they could have done in her single state. The art of economizing time | may now be made to yl amine of wealth, beyond. ‘em riches alone could ever have bestowed; and of this most precious | treasure, neither change of facts, nor place, nor CHiSeaisiariee will bi | i. « a Se aes iP etl ee * Ne, ers. er aS) SS 7, LOR ee VR ee Caen re ee ee ee a wait gt Raya 3 a eae by a nak tala POL er ee ee | Le eS Leg ee ea | aS tah a! # a i Se . Bee , ea a a THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE. 55 ‘be able to deprive her. If that cleverness which I have attempted to describe in a previous work* has been acquired and practised in her early years, it will now have become hkea part of her nature—an additional faculty, which is really nothing less than the power of turning every thing to. the best account; and this power she will now be able to exercise at will, for the benefit of all with whom she is associated. “‘ But of what use,” some may be inclined to ask, “is her learning and her knowledge, now that the actual work of the hand has become a duty of such important considera- tion?” Janswer, that the early attainment of learning and knowledge will be found of more than tenfold impor- tance now; because, in the first place, there will be no longer time for their acquisition; and in the next, they will be wanted every day, if not in their direct, in their relative exercise, to raise the tone of social intercourse around the domestic hearth. Music, painting, and poetry, taste, tact, and observation, may all be made conducive to the same desirable end ; for if by the marriage vow, you hoped to unite yourself to an immortal mind—and I cannot believe of my countrywomen that more grovelling thoughts would be theirs at that solemn hour—you must desire to sustain and cherish such a mind, in all its highest aspirations, and in all its noblest aims. In fact, I know not what love is, if it seeks not the moral and intellectual perfection of its object—if it is not willing, in order to promote this glorious purpose— ‘To watch all time, and pry into all space ;” so. that no opportunity may be lost, and no. means ne- _ glected, of raising the tone of a husband’s character to the ar * The Daughters of England. 56 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. highest scale which man is capable of attaining. It is true, that to comfort and sustain the body is a duty which ought never to be neglected; but the woman who can rest satisfied with this, knows little of the holy and elevating principle of real love—of that love which alone can justify any one in taking upon herself the sacred responsibilities of a wife. Influenced by this love, the woman of right feeling will perceive, though but recently married, that her position is one of relative importance; that however insignificant each separate act of her life might have been when she dwelt alone, or as an inferior member of a family, she has now become the centre of a circle of influence, which will widen and extend itself to other circles, until it mixes with the great ocean of eternity. Thus, it is not only what she says and does, but also what she leaves unsaid and undone, which will give a colouring to futurity, so far as the influ- ence of a wife extends; for to have neglected acts of duty, or opportunities of advice and encouragement, is in reality toincur the risk of consequences as calamitous as those which follow having x aie unwisely, or acted from i impro-- per motives. It is a serious and alarming thought, but one which - ought to be ever present to the young wife, that no ser- vant can ever leave her establishment without being either better or worse for her experience there; that se party can meet beneath her roof without receiving some good or evil bias from the general tone of her conversation and manners; and above all, that the rules she lays down for the regulation of her household, the principles of justice and integrity, of benevolence, temperance, order, and Christian charity, which are there acted upon, will diffuse themselves through the different members of her house-_ hold, and, flowing thus through various —— will be- rie q CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 57 come the foundation of peace and comfort in other families, they in their turn disseminating the same principles to the end of time. What a sublime—what an elevating thought! May it fill the happy bosom of every English bride, and may the closing resolution of the first year of her married life be this—* Let others do as they will, but as for me and my house we will serve the Lord.” CHAPTER III. CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. In approaching this part of my subject, I cannot but feel that it is one which I have neither the understanding nor the skill to treat with ample justice. All I will venture upon, therefore, is to point out a few of those peculiari- ties, which women who have been but little accustomed to the society of men, might otherwise be surprised to find in _ ahusband. If, in pursuance of this task, what I am com- pelled to say, should appear in any way disparaging to the dignity of men in general, my apology must be this— _ that it is the very peculiarities I am about to point out, which constitute the chief difficulties a married woman has to contend with, and which, therefore, claim the sympathy of such as are anxious to assist her in the right perfor- _ mance of her duties as a wife. ‘Were all men excellent without inconsistencies, and _ without defects, there would be no need for words of cau- _ tion or advice addressed to the weaker sex, but especially to wives, for each would have perpetually before her, a Met ae ee THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — perfect model of true excellence, from which she would be ashamed to differ, and by which she would be taught at once to admire and imitate whatever is most worthy of esteem. With gratitude we ought to acknowledge our belief, that morally and spiritually there is perfect equality — between men and women ; yet, in the character of a noble, enlightened, and truly g wide man, there is a power and a sublimity, so nearly approaching what we believe to be the nature and capacity of angels, that as no feeling can ex- ceed, so no language can describe the degree of admiration and respect which the contemplation of such a character must excite. To be permitted to dwell within the influ- ence of such a man, must be a privilege of the highest order; to listen to his conversation, must bea perpetual a feast; but to be admitted to his heart—to share his coun- sels, baci to be the chosen companion of his joys and sor- rows !—it is difficult to say whether humility or gratitude should preponderate in the feelings of the by oka thus oe distinguished and thus blest. TR ETT If all men were of. this ‘cannes dou pages might be given to the winds. We must suppose, however, ea en for the sake of meeting every case, and especially the most - difficult, that there are men occasionally found who are not, strictly speaking, noble, nor highly enlightened, nor oa altogether good. . That such men are as much disposed as — their superiors to enter into the married state, i is also a fact 4 of public notoriety, and it is to the women who venture a upon uniting themselves to such men. for life, that I would a be understood chiefly to address mysel fgg ‘e 7 In order to render the subject more “clear, T will ieee a first place draw an imaginary line between reasonable, and unreasonable, men. A reasonable man is one who w give a candid hearing to arguments against his own pr et Be pe ok - Sa * CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 59 conceived opinions, and who, when he believes himself to have good cause for acting or thinking as he does, is yet willing to be shown a better cause for acting or thinking differently. The mind of a reasonable man is, therefore, - open to conviction, impartial, and comprehensive; and all _ these qualities, from the very nature of his constitution, he possesses in a higher degree than they can be possessed by woman. An unreasonable man is one who will think and act in a particular manner, simply because he will. “If he knows any better reason why he so thinks and acts, he deems it unnecessary to disclose it, because to him this is all-sufficient; and as it is one which no argument can re- fute, and no opposition overcome, the woman who has to ~ accommodate her habits to his, had need commence the _ preparation for her married life, by a study of patience from the book of Job. If, as I have stated, the example and influence of a truly excellent man, are such as to render the very atmos- _ phere in which he lives one of perpetual improvement and ” delight; on the other hand, there is nothing more discourag- ~ ing to a woman, than to find defects in the character she has © : associated herself with for life, having believed it to be : thus excellent. Indeed, the peculiarities of the wise, and _ the inconsistencies of the good, amongst the nobler sex, Me: . . . . have a peculiarly startling effect upon women in general, . and often prove the means of retarding their improvement, _ by awakening the childish and petulant thought, that if : such are the best, there can be little use in striving after excellence at all. | All women should, therefore, be prepared for discover- ing faults in men, as they are for beholding spots in the i sun, or clouds in the summer sky. Nor is it consistent a with the disinterested. nature of women’s purest, deepest & 60 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. affection, that they should love he less, because they cannot admire them more. Much allowance should be made in all such caleula- tions, for the peculiar mode of education by which men are trained for the world. From their early childhood, girls are accustomed to fill an inferior place, to give up, to fall back, and to be as nothing in comparison with their brothers ; while boys, on the other hand, have to suffer all the disadvantages in after life, of having had their preco- cious selfishness encouraged, from the time when they first began to feel the dignity of superior power, and the oie | umph of occupying a seperior place. Men who have been thus educated by foolish and in- dulgent mothers ; who have been placed at public schools, where the influence, the character, and the very name of Woman was a by-word for contempt ; who have been after- wards associated with sisters who were capricious, igno- rant, and vain—such men are very unjustly blamed for be- — ing selfish, domineering, and tyrannical to the other sex. In fact, how should they be otherwise? It is a common thing to complain of the selfishness of men, but I have of-- ten thought, on looking candidly at their early lives, and — reflecting how little cultivation of the heart is blended with what is popularly called the best education, the wonder should be that men are not more selfish still. With all these allowances, then, we may grant them a to be selfish, and pity, rather than blame them that they are so; for no happy being ever yet was found, whose nee aa wishes centered in its own bosom. The young and inexperienced woman who has buttras a cently been made the subject of man’s attentions, and the object of his choice, will probably be disposed to dispute this point with me, and to argue that one man at least is qe =H a ; " cuanscnenismies OF MEN. 61 ; oon ye 7 he iy Rive. up every thing for herl But let no wo- ; to such obsequiousness, for generally speaking, 0 are the met ara, in their professions, a gt ote rost Pre eenable and requiring afterwards. Let her t then i in Wg own mind, whatever aspect her affairs ; a this! (Ske BS ostending hiterests of the community at Be, ree, ae of public affairs, and the eine cio of he same Fe sces of difference in the education of men i cos n, leads, on the one hand, to a more. expansive ig 4 62 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. range of intellect and thought; and on the ones ia c exercise of the same ales upon what is particular and — ‘minute. Men consequently are accustomed to generalize. . They look with far-stretching views to the general bearing of every question submitted to their ccnalde aes Even when planning for the good of their fellow-creatures, it is” on a large scale, and most frequently upen the principle of the greatest good to the greatest number. By following — out this system, injustice is often unconsciously done to in- dividuals, and even a species of cruelty exercised, which — it should be a woman’s peculiar object to study to avert ; but at the same time, to effect her purpose in such a way, — as neither to thwart nor interfere with the greater and more — important good. me A We see here, as.in a thousand other instances, the beau- ; tiful adaptation of the natural constitution of the two sexes, so as to effect agreater amount of good by their joint efforts, : than either could effect alone. ‘Were an island peopled — only by men, the strictness of its judicial regulations, and ~ the cold formality of its public institutions, would render it | an ungenial soil for the growth of those finer feelings, and those saihtler impulses of nature, which not only beautify the whole aspect of human life, but are often proved to” have been blossoms of the richest fruit, and seeds of the’ most abundant harvest. And were a neighbouring island . peopled by women only, the discord of Babel, or the heated elements of a volcano, could scarcely equal the confu- sion, the ebullition, and the universal tumult, that ‘would follow the partial attention given to every separate com- plaint, the ready credence accorded to every separate story, | and the prompt and unhesitating application of means, to Se ES Fy. oe ee ee ee ee ee “= effect at all times the most incompatible ends. — oe Those who argue for the perfect equality—the oneness * a CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 63 BF women in their intellectual nature with men, appear to _ know little of that higher philosophy, by which both, from the very distinctness of their characters, have been made subservient to the purposes of wisdom and of goodness; and after having observed with deep thought, and profound reverence, the operation of mind on mind, the powerful and instinctive sympathies which rule our very being, and the associated influence of different natures, all working _ together, yet too separate and distinct to create confusion ; _ to those who have thus regarded the perfect adjustment of the plans of an all-wise Providence, I own it does appear an ignorant and vulgar contest, to strive to establish the equality of that, which would lose not only its utility, but its perfection, by being assimilated with a different nature. From the same constitution of mind which leads men™ “to generalize, and to look at every thing they contemplate on an extensive scale, they are seldom good economists. Even the most penurions, the very misers of whom we ‘read such extraordinary accounts, appear to have had a very mistaken idea of the best means of ensuring the great _ object of their lives. Thus, while most anxious to avoid the least unnecessary expense, some men ereatly increase the waste and the outlay of money in their household ar- tangements, by not allowing a sufficient number of imple- ments, utensils, or other conveniences, and means, for the “purpose of facilitating domestic operations, by making “each individual thing Seely the place for which it is most ~ ‘suitable, and best io leWlated to secure against absolute ‘4 mee The master of a family is quite capable of perceiving hat money for domestic purposes is often in demand; and : hat, through some channel or other, it escapes very vine ly; but he is altogether incompetent—and would that all oe 2 ae Bs, se Mi % ee Eh An a 64 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. men would believe it !—to judge of the necessity there is for each particular sum, or how the whole in the end must unavoidably be increased, by making every article of household use answer as many purposes as it is capable of, without regard to fitness, durability, or strength. But if, on the one hand, our first wish for the increased happiness of the homes of England would be, that men should Jet these things alone; our next, and perhaps it ought to stand first, and be still more earnest than the other, is this, that all women should be so educated, and so pre- pared by the right disposition of their own minds, as to afford their husbands just grounds for perfect confidence in their understanding and right principle, with regard to these important affairs. For in the first place, without understanding, no woman can economize ; and in the next, without being supremely anxious for the fulfilment of do- mestic duty, no woman will. Thus, in addition to other causes of anxiety, sufficiently abounding in the present day, throughout every department of business, hundreds and Baas of men in the respectable walks of life, have to suffer from daily and almost hourly apprehension, that a system of neglect and extravagance in their own houses, is wasting away the slender profits of their labour and their care. On the score of simple kindness, then, one would suppose that a right-minded woman would wish to spare her husband these distressing thoughts; while, on the score of domestic comfort, ease, and independence, it is impossible to calculate the vast amount to which she would herself be the gainer, by convincing her husband that she was not only able, but determined, to manage , his household expenditure with the least possible Waste. With all this, however, and often in connection with: the most rigid notions of economy, men are fond of | oo ” iol CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 65 indulgences; nor ought they ever to be absolutely denied so reasonable a means of restoring their exhausted energy and cheerfulness, more especially, because those who are _ connected in any way with business, or who have to provide by their own efforts for the maintenance of their families, _are generally so circumstanced through the greater portion of each day, as to be as far removed as possible from all opportunity of personal enjoyment. It would, indeed, be a hard thing to refuse to the hus- band who returns home from his desk, his counter, or his fields, the best seat, or the choicest food, with any other in- dulgence his circumstances may afford. Here, however, in certain families, exists a great difficulty ; for some men, and I need not say they are of the unreasonable class, are determined to have the indulgences, and yet are unwilling to incur the expense. From their habit of disregarding things in detail, and looking upon them only as a whole; _they are utterly unconscious of the importance of every lit- tle addition in the shape of luxury to the general sum; and thus the wife is placed in the painful dilemma, either of de- nying her husband the gratification of his tastes and wishes, or of bearing all the blame of conducting her household expenses on too extravagant a scale. There are few situations in the long catalogue of female perplexities more harassing than this; for it must ever be borne in mind, that men havea tendency to dislike the im- mediate instrument of their suffering or privation. And this again brings us to observe another of their peculiarities, - so. important in its influence upon the whole of married life, that if a woman should venture to judge of man’s love by her own, she would probably commit one of the most fatal “mistakes by which human happiness was ever wrecked. The love of woman appears to have been created solely _ aay 66 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. to minister ; that of man, to be ministered unto. ttl is true, his avocations lead him daily to some labour, or some ef- fort for the maintenance of his family; and he often con- scientiously believes that this labour is for his wife. But the probability is, that he would be just as attentive to his : business, and as eager about making money, had he no : wife at all—witness the number of single men who provid: le. . ‘with as great care, and as plentifully, according to their wants, for the maintenance of a house without either wife or child. : As it is the natural characteristic of woman’s love in its most refined, as well as its most practical development, to be perpetually doing something for the good or the happi- ness of the object of her affection, it 1s but reasonable that man’s personal comfort should be studiously attended to; and in this, the complacence and satisfaction which most men evince on finding themselves placed at table before a favourite dish, situated beside a clean hearth, or accommo- dated with an empty sofa, is of itself a sufficient reward for any sacrifice such indulgence may have cost. In proofs of — is affection like these, there is something tangible which speaks home to the senses—something which man can un- - derstand without an effort ; and he will sit down to eat, or compose himselfto rest, with more hearty good-will towards the wife who has been thoughtful about these things, than — if she had been all day busily employed in writing a. trea- tise on morals for his especial benefit. Again, man’s dignity, as well as his comfort, must o ministered unto. I propose to treat this pahice more fully in another chapter, but in speaking of man’s peculiarities it must never be forgotten, that he ought not to be required to bear the least. infringement upon his dignity as a man, 4 and a husband. The woman who has the bad taste, and : De SL , RE ee Pe - arr © 7 4 ees! Vie 7 te! Ay eae ee ee Me . : x aay . ‘ i fy Tae CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 67 _ worse feeling, to venture upon this experiment, effectually “7 lowers herself; for in proportion as her husband sinks, she must sink with him, and ever, as wife, be lower still. Many, however, from ignorance, and with the very best . “intentions, err in this way, and I am inclined to think such E persons suffer more from the consequences of their folly, : han others do from their wilful deviation from what is Tight; just as self-love is more wounded by an innocent, than by an intentional humiliation; because the latter shows us how little we are really esteemed, while the for- mer invests us with a certain degree of importance, as be- _ ing worthy of a premeditated insult. __ It is unquestionably the inalienable right of all men, whether ill or well, rich or poor, wise or foolish, to be treated with sees. and made much of in their own houses. It is true that in the last mentioned case, this duty may be attended with some difficulty in the performance; but as no man becomes a fool, or loses his senses by mar- rlage, the woman who has selected such a companion must abide by the consequences ; and even he, whatever may _ be his degree of folly, is entitled to respect from her, Be e- cause she has voluntarily placed herself in such a positio that she must necessarily be his inferior. I have said, that whether well or ill, a husband is enti- tled to respect; and it is perhaps when ill, more than at any other time, that men are impressed with a sense of their own importance. It is, therefore, an act of kindness, as well as of justice, and a concession easily made, to en- bs: deavour to keep up this idea, by all those little acts of deli- “a cate attention which at once do good to the body, and | j ~ sustain the mind. Illness is to mena sufficient trial and humiliation of itself, as it deprives them of their free agency, cuts them off from their accustomed manly avo- - ’ ‘ 4 y y ' Wore yy ‘ ™ yy * é i : A a... ae aie ! he O = — 68 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. cations, and shuts them up to a kind of imprisonment, which from their previous habits they are little calculated to bear. A sensible and kind-hearted woman, therefore, will never inflict upon the man she loves, when thus cir- cumstanced, the additional punishment of feeling that it is possible for him to be forgotten or neglected. a But chiefly in poverty, or when labouring under de- pressed circumstances, it is the part of a true wife to ex- hibit by the most delicate, but most profound respect, how highly she is capable of valuing her husband, independently of all those adventitious circumstances, according to which he has been valued by the world. — It is here that the dig- nity of man is most apt to give way—here that his stout heart fails him—and here then it must be woman’s part to build him up. ‘Not, as many are too apt to suppose, merely to comfort him by her endearments, but actually to raise him in his own esteem, to restore to him his estimate of his moral worth, and to convince him that it is beyond the __ power of circumstances to degrade an upright and an hon- ~ est man. Lee And, alas! how much of this is needed in the present — lay ! Could the gay and thoughtless Daughters of England — know for what situations they are training.—Could they — know how often it will become their duty to assume the — character of the strong, in order to support the weak, they | would surely begin betimes to think of these things; and — to study the different workings of the human heart, so as — to be able to manage even its master-cords, without strik- ing them too rudely, or with a hand too little skilled. | And after all, this great dignity of man, is not much of © it artificial, or at least put on like a robe of state to answer ~ an especial end? Yes; and a pitiful and heart- -rending 4 spectacle it is, to see the weakness of man’s heart disrobed ~ al CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. 69 ‘of all its mantling pride—the utter nakedness, I might almost say, for woman has ever something left to conceal her destitution. In the multitude of her resources she has also a multitude of alleviations to her distress; but man has nothing. In his humiliation he is like a blighted tree. The birds of the air no longer nestle in its boughs, the _ weary traveller no longer sits down to rest beneath its shade. Nothing is left to it but the clinging ivy, to cover with freshness and beauty its ruin and decay. It is said of woman that her imagination is easily cap- tivated, that she is won by the hero’s fame, and Jed on by her love of glory and distinction to follow in the sunny path of the illustrious or the great. But far more fatal to the peace of woman, more influential upon her conduct, more triumphant in their mastery over her whole being, are the tears and the helplessness of man, when his proud spirit sinks within him, or when he flies from his compeers in the race of glory; to bury his shame, and perhaps his guilt, in her bosom. I will not ask how often, after this exhibition of his weakness, after regaining his post of honour, and-being _ reccived again a competitor for distinction, he has forgot- ten the witness of -his humiliation; but I believe it is only as a wife, a mother, ora sister, that woman can be this friend to man, with safety to herself, and with certainty that he will not afterwards rather avoid than seek her, from the feeling that she has beheld him shorn of his dig- nity, and is consequently able to remind him of the humil- iating past. For the wife it might also be a dangerous experiment, even in her fondest and most unguarded mo- _ments, to make any allusion to scenes and circumstances of this description ; especially to presume upon having neces- sarily assumed at such times the stronger and more im] p 4* ee \ 70 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. tant part. When her husband chooses to be dignified again, and is capable of maintaining that dignity, she must adapt herself 1o the happy change, and fall back in- to comparative insignificance, just as if circumstances had never given her a momentary superiority over him. ; The peculiarity already alluded to as a characteristic of men, and as leading them to attach more importance to what is immediate and tangible, than what isremote or ideal, is one which renders them particularly liable to de- ception, or rather to be, what is more properly called, practised upon, than directly deceived ; so much so, that 1 believe any woman who could manage her own temper, might manage her husband, provided she possessed his affections. Isay might, because the mode of manage- ment by such means would be utterly revolting toa gen- erous and upright mind. Thus, by fair speech and smooth manners, accompanied with servile and flattering subservi- ency in little things, some artful women have contrived to win their way to the accomplishment of almost every wish ; when a single rash or hasty word, especially if it implied an assumption of the right to choose, would have effectual- Jy defeated their ends. I have listened much when men have been diese the merits of women, and have never heard any quality so universally commended by the nobler sex, as quietness; while the opposite demerit of a tongue too loud, too ready, or too importunate in its exertions, has been as universally condemned. Thus I am inclined to think that silence in general, and smooth speech when language must be used, are ranked by most men amongst the highest excellencies of the female character ; while on the other hand, those wordy weapons sometimes so injudiciously made use of, — ofall things what they most abhor. ~~ CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. oA lp Tf, however, an artful woman finds it easy to practise upon her husband by the immediate instrumentality of a _manner suited to his taste, this mean and degraded system of working out an end, becomes more difficult in propor- tion to the frequency of its detection, until at last, some men are brought to suspect that all women act indirectly in every thing they do. Hence comes that frequent an- -swer when we ask a simple question merely for the sake of information—‘‘ Why do you wish to know 2? as if it were impossible for women to be deeply interested where _they had no end to serve, and as if there must of necessity be some hidden motive concealed behind that which is made apparent. This habitual retort falls hardly upon those who never have deserved it, and not unfrequently forms a serious obstacle in the way of obtaining useful — knowledge ; but it is greatly to be feared that such an expression, with the suspicion it implies, would never have become habitual to men, had not the general conduct of women brought this just punishment upon them. Indeed, there is something revolting to man’s very nature in haying to calculate upon that kind of petty arti- fice which takes advantage of unwariness and credulity, for working out a purpose, even where that purpose may not in itself be wrong. And here we are brought at once to that great leading peculiarity in man’s character—his nobility, or, in other words, his exemption from those innu- _--— merable littlenesses which obscure the beauty, and sully the integrity of woman’s life. From all their underhand contrivances, their secret envyings, and petty spite, man is exempt; so much so, that the mere contemplation of the “broad clear basis of his moral character, his open truth, his singleness of aim, and, above all, his dignified forbear- See We 72 me THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — ance under provocation, might often put the weaker Sex to shame. a T am aware that there is much in the situation of both parties to create this difference; that undisputed: power to will, and to act, is often accompanied by a kind of moral majesty, which a weaker spirit never can attain, while kept in bondage, either by fear or by absolute restraint. Iam aware, too, that boys, from their very infancy, are accustomed to a mode of treatment as much calculated to make them determined, frank, and bold, as that of girls is to induce the opposite extremes of weakness, artifice, and timid helplessness ; but even with these allowances, I am persuaded there are broad clear features in the moral dig- nity of man, which it is impossible to contemplate in their strength and reality, without respect and admiration. And a sacred and ennobling trust it is for woman to have the happiness of such a being committed to her charge—a holy privilege to be the chosen companion of his lot—to come with her helplessness and weakness to find safety under his protection, and to repose her own _ perturbed and troubled mind beneath the shelter of his love. What then, if by perpetual proticatied she should awake the tempest of his wrath! We will not contem- plate the thought, for there is something as fearful in his indignation, as there is attractive in his meee and flat. tering in his esteem. | Nor, in return for this kindness, are we ocGeoinee to feel gratitude enough; for take away from social life not only the civility, but the actual service done by men, in removing difficulty, protecting weakness, and assisting in distress, in 4 what a sess, helpless world would women ~ 0 ot iat leet am ae a re ewe te oe ae gl es 5 a CHARACTERISTICS OF MEN. + a find themselves, left only to the slender aid, and the tender mercies of each other! It is too much regarded merely as a thing of course, for men to be obliging and attentive ; and it is too little remembered at what cost to them we purchase their help and their indulgence. Nor is it only in solitary instances, or for especial favourites, that these efforts have to be made. It is the sacrifice of a whole lifetime for a man to be polite. There is no fireside so warm, but he must leave it ona winter’s night to walk home with some female visitor, who has probably no charm for him. There is no situation so eligible, but he must resign it if required. There is no difficulty he must not encounter, no fatigue he must not endure, and no gratification he must not give up; and for whom? All would do this perhaps for one being in the world—perhaps for more; but to be willing to do it every day and every hour, even for the most repulsive, or the most selfish and requiring of their sex—there is a martyr- dom of self in all this, which puts to shame the partial kindness and disinterestedness of woman. It may be said that the popularity of politeness affords at once its incentive, and its reward. But whence then do we receive those many private acts of unrequited service, _when no other eye is there but ours to witness—no. other , > a. Po . tongue to praise? and when we ourselves would probably have been the last recipients of such favour, had our com- panion chosen to assume the right of selecting an object better suited to his taste ? It is from considerations such as these, and I would wish to impress them upon every female mind, that I have not included the selfishness of man amongst his peculiarities, though some might think the case would warrant a notice of this nature. Yet such is my conviction, that man has Pe Se zs Pater a is the variety of character to be taken into account, that. 1 ma % _ THE WIVES OE ENGLAND. much to bear with from the capriciousness of woman; such is my grateful estimate of his uncalculating Hance d not less to be admired because it is expected and required ; such too has been my own experience of his general willingness to oblige, where there was little to attract, and still less to reward; that whatever may be said by others, it would ill become me to lift up a voice, and that a public one, against the selfishness of men. : Let us rather look again at that nobility of which I have already spoken, and while we blush to feel the stir- rings of an inferior spirit prompting us to many an unworthy tought and act, let us study to assimilate our nature, in all that is truly excellent, with his, who was at. first ex- pressly formed in the image of his Maker. CHAPTER AV. BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. Lest the reader should suppose, from the heading of this chapter, that the management of husbands is what is really meant, | must at once disclaim all pretension to this partic- ular kind of skill; not because I do not think it capable of being carried ie into a system, whereby every woman might become the actual ruler in her own domestic sphere, but because I consider the system itself a bad one, and ut- terly unworthy of being applied to any but the most ex- treme cases of unreasonableness on the husband’s part. With regard to the treatment of husbands, then, so great : BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. 75 ‘would be impossible to lay down any rule of universal ap- plication, except on the broad principles of kind feeling, in- tecrity, and common sense. Still there are hints which may be thrown out, it is to be hoped, with benefit to the inexperienced ; and many of these will refer again to the peculiarity already dwelt upon in the foregoing chapter. The tendency in men which has been described as render- ing them peculiarly liable to be impressed by what is evi- dent to their senses, must ever be consulted by the wife who would adapt herself to her husband’s mood and char- acter; and although these may vary in every individual, and in the same may change with every difference of time -and place, it becomes the duty of a wife, and one would suppose it must also be her pleasure, studiously to observe what those things are, which habitually strike the attention of her husband, so as to convey to him immediate impres- sions of pleasure or of pain ; remembering ever, that all in- direct evidence of our tastes and wishes having been con- sulted, even in our absence, is one of the most grateful offerings that can be made to every human heart. Thus the general appearance of his home has much to | do with the complacency man naturally feels on returning to it. If his taste is for neatness and order, for the absence of servants, and for perfect quiet, it would be absolute cruelty to allow such aman to find his house in confusion, and to have to call in servants to clear this thing and the other away after his return, as if he had never once been thought of, or at least thought of with kindness and con- sideration, until he was actually seen. Some men particularly enjoy the cheerful welcome of a clean hearth and blazing fire, on a winter’s day; and all are more or less solicitous to stir the glowing embers them- 4 selves, rather than to see them stirred by others. Iknow er a Rg tle 76 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. an excellent woman who always had her fire built up in such a manner before her husband came home, as to pre- sent a tempting crust for him to break through on his ar- rival; and I much question whether the good lady was not more loved for this simple act, than she would have been, had her husband found his fire neglected, and herself en- gaged in tears and prayers for his individual welfare. But here again we recognize no general rule, for some men unquestionably there are, who would much prefer that their coals should be forthcoming on a future day, than thus unnecessarily expended in a bonfire to welcome their return. Again, it is of little use that you esteem and reverence your husband in the secret of your heart, if you do not by your manners, both at home and abroad, evince this proper deference and regard. At home it is but fitting that the master of the house should be considered as entitled to the choice of every personal indulgence, unless indisposition or suffering on the part of the wife render such indulgences more properly her due ; but even then they ought to be re-_ ceived as a favour, rather than claimed as a right. Women in the present day, and in houses furnished as English homes generally are, may enjoy so many advan- tages in the way of pampering the body, from which men, and especially those engaged in business, are debarred, that they can well afford to give up some of these indulgences to those they love; and few indeed would not rather see them thus enjoyed, than appropriated exclusively to them- selves. There is, however, one great difficulty in connection with this duty, which it is to be hoped all persons are not, like the writer, unable to solve. It is in the important | question of self-sacrifice, how far this virtue ought to ex-_ tend in the treatment of husbands. There is certainly BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. 77 nothing more beautiful to read of in books; and could every act of self-sacrifice be seen and appreciated, there would be nothing more delightful to practise towards those we love. But the question is, does it tell in any high degree upon the happiness of man? Observation of the ‘world would lead to the conclusion that it does not, for where one husband’s heart has been softened with grati- tude on discovering how much his wife has suffered and denied herself for his sake, ten times that number of wo- men have been wounded to the very soul at not having their acts of self-sacrifice valued according to their cost. The fact is, men in general do not see these things, un- less told of their existence ; and then at once their charm is destroyed. Is it not better, then, to bea little more sparing of such acts, than to do them, and then grudge the ex- penditure of feeling they require; or to do them, and then complain of the punishment they inflict? Besides which, some luckless women go on in this way, until more and more is expected of them; the husband, in his ignorance of the state of things behind the scenes, never dreaming of what is actually suffered, but rather proposing, in his inno- cence, that as one thing has been so comfortably given up, another should follow, until at last there bursts upon his unhappy head a perfect storm of feeling, from her who would willingly have been a martyr for his sake, would he only have observed and pitied what she was enduring for him. On the other hand, those women who calmly and equitably maintain their rights, for nghts all women have ; who, acting upon the broad principle of yielding what is due from a wife to a husband, make a clear distinction betwixt that, and what would be expected by a tyrant from his slaves ; who make themselves cheerful and com- fortable with what it is proper for them to enjoy, neither ra y oy . : 78 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. withholding what they ought to give up, nor giving up what they cannot afford to lose; such women are upon the whole to be preferred as companions, and certainly they are themselves exempt from a world of wounded feeling, under which the more romantically generous are perpetually suffermg, and at the same time weeping and lamenting that they do so. ‘ A There is, however, a most delicate medium in these cases to be observed, for when once woman loses the disinter- © ested generosity of her character, she loses her greatest charm; and when she becomes a stickler for rights, or a — monopolizer of good things, presuming upon her greater requirements as being a more delicate and fragile being | than man, she may indeed ke said to have forfeited all that claims for her sex our interest and our admiration. But, on the other hand, though she may not be aware of it, there — is a secret and deep-seated selfishness in the wounded feeling which accompanies a generous act, on finding it not valued according to its cost. Would it not then be wise to let this maxim be our rule—that none should. give up more than they are prepared to resign without grudg- ing, whether noticed and appreciated or not. ae In my remarks upon the subject of self-sacrifice, I would of course, be understood to refer only to those trifling and familiar affairs in. which the personal comfort of daily life is concerned. The higher and more sacred claims of trial and calamity with which the experience of every human being is occasionally chequered, admit neither of doubt, . — calculation, nor delay. . Here I cannot suppose it possible that a true-hearted woman would feel the least reserve, for here it is her sacred privilege to forget herself, to count no item of her loss, to weigh no difficulty, and to | shrink from no pain, provided she can suffer for, or even : BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. 79 with, the companion whose existence is bound up with hers. _ Whatever doubt may be entertained on the subject of making self, and selfish gratification, subservient to a hus- band’s tastes and enjoyments, in all the little items of do- mestic arrangement, there can be none with regard to what is right in mixing in society either with friends or strangers. It is here, the privilege of a married woman to be able to show, by the most delicate attentions, how much she feels her husband’s superiority to herself, not by mere personal services officiously rendered, as if for the purpose of display, but by a respectful reference to his opinion, a willingly imposed silence when he speaks, and, if he be an enlightened man, by a judicious turn sometimes given to the conversation, so that his information and intelligence may be. drawn forth for the benefit of others. It is true that a considerable portion of tact is required to manage such matters as these, without appearing to manage them at all; for if the husband is once made to suspect that his wife is practising upon him for the purpose - of showing how good a wife she is, his situation will scarce- ly be more agreeable than that of the man who is made a lackey of in company, and called hither and thither to do little personal services for his wife, as if she had mistaken him for one of her servants, or, what is more likely, had chosen this means of exhibiting her unbounded influence over him. Both these extremes are at variance with good taste, to say nothing of right feeling; and here, as in innumerable instances besides, we see, that if the tact I have so highly recommended in a previous work, be valuable before mar- _ riage, it is infinitely more so afterwards. Indeed there is _ scarcely one amongst the various embellishments of female 80 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. iy character, not even the highest accomplishments exhibited by the most distinguished belle, which may not, in some way or other, be rendered a still more exquiste embellish- ment to married life, provided only it is kept in its proper place, and made always pubscrasent to that which is more estimable. | Thus the most fastidious taste, when saphueda in oa Jecting what is agreeable to a husband’s fancy, becomes ennobled to its possessor; while those accomplishments, which in the crowded drawing-room were worse than useless. in their display, may sometimes be accounted as actual wealth, to her who has the good feeling to render them con- ducive to the amusement or the happiness of her own fireside. On the other hand, it is painful to hear the complaint so frequently made by married men, that their wives have ceased to touch the instrument whose keys were rendered so sweetly available in the great object of charming before marriage; and, did not kindness or delicacy forbid a fur- ther disclosure of the secrets of their lot, there is doubtless a still greater number who could speak feelingly of their re~ gret, that the air of careful neatness, the becoming dress, and the general attractiveness of look and manner, which first won their attention, had been gradually laid aside, as advancing years and increasing cares had rendered them more necessary as an additional charm to the familiar scenes of domestic life. Yet in spite of appearances, it is scarcely possible to imagine how there should be, in any other situation, SO natural and so delightful a display of personal attractions ‘as at home, and before the one being whom of all the world | we love best; especially when we reflect that his destiny being bound up with ours, if we allow him to feel weary of our company, annoyed by our absurdities, or dissatisfied _ BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. Sl with our personal appearance, he must at the same time suffer doubly from the mortifying conviction, that these things are to remain the same to him throughout the whole of his future life or ours. ‘What thenso natural and so congenial to the best feel- ‘ings of woman, as to render this long future as pleasing in its aspect as she can? and what so degrading, and so utterly at variance with the beauty of the female character, as, having once secured a legal claim to the protection of a husband, ever afterwards to neglect those personal attrac- tions, which comparatively few women have to be charged with neglecting in their single state? Yet of what im- portance is it to the careless observer we meet with in gene- ral society, how we dress, or whether we look well or ill, ‘compared with what it is to the man who has to see us, and perhaps us alone, seated opposite to him at every meal! Of what importance is it to the stranger that we play badly, or do not play at all—that we draw without taste, and have never learned to converse with sprightliness and ease ? His happiness is in no way dependent upon us. He can turn away, and forget us the next moment. But the case assumes a widely different character, when we look at it as extending through each separate hour of a long life- time; and surely if there be a natural exultation in having charmed an indifferent person, or even a whole party, for an hour, there must a higher, and far more reasonable satisfaction, in being able to beguile a husband of his cares, to win him from society which might divert his thoughts from home, and to render that home, not only the scene of his duties, but of his favourite amusements, and his dear- est joys. - To this high purpose every intellectual attainment should also be made conducive, for there is much in the op, Ce ¥ 1 a 82 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. life of men, and particularly where business engages their attention, to lower and degrade the mind. There is much to render it purely material in its aims and calculations; and there is much also, in man’s public intercourse with his fellow-man, to render him eager and monopolizing in that which centres in himself; while at-the same time he is regardless or distrustful of others. Asa rational, account- able, and immortal being, he consequently needs a com- panion who will be supremely solicitous for the advance- ment of his intellectual, moral, and spriritual nature; a companion who will raise the tone of his mind from the low anxieties, and vulgar cares which necessarily occupy so large a portion of his existence, and lead his thoughts to expatiate or repose on those Subjects which convey a feeling of identity with a higher state of existence beyond this present life. | Instead of this, how often does the wife receive home her weary husband, to render him still more weary, by an outpouring of all the gossip she has heard through the day, of the observations she has ‘made upon her neighbour’s - furniture and way of living, of the personal attentions or slights she has received, with a long catalogue of com-_ plaints against her servants, and, worse than all, ten thou- sand reasons, strengthened by that day’s experience, why — she should be indulged with some favourite article of dress ; or luxury, upon which her heart has long been set. — | It may be said in vindication of this mode of conduct, | that the occupations of men of business in the present day. are such, and so pressing, as to leave them little time, and — perhaps less inclination, for interesting themselves in sub- jects of apparently less urgent and immediate importance ; and that, consequently, all endeavour to give their minds a bias in favour of nobler things, would be unavailing. But — BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. 83 in reply to this observation, I would ask one question— Have you made the experiment? Have you ever tried whether the introduction of a new idea, appropriately and agreeably clothed, might not be made quite as agreeable as the introduction of a new article of diet, even dressed with the nicest care? Have you then made the experi- ment judiciously ? for here lies the secret of all the good we can reasonably expect. If, for instance, you should begin to talk about the stars, when your husband asks for his slippers, or quote poetry when he wants his dinner, the boldest enthusiast would scarcely be wild enough to anti- cipate any very favourable result. The first thing to be done in the attainment of this high object, is to use what influence you have so as not to lower or degrade the habitual train of your husband’s thoughts ; and the next is, to watch every eligible opportunity, and to use every suitable means, of leading him to view his favour- ite subjects in their broadest and most expansive light; while, at the same time, it is within the region of woman’s Capabilities, to connect them, by some delicate mode of association, with the general poate of man’s interests in ‘this world upon his interests in eternity. It is extremely difficult in writing on this subject to convey my exact meaning, or indeed to avoid the charge of wishing to recommend, instead of pleasant, easy, fireside chat, the introduction of a dull, and dry, or perhaps dog- matical discourse, than which, nothing can be more op- posed, both to the tastes and the habits of the writer, as well as to her ideas of the nice art, of pleasing and doing good at the same time. Indeed that mode of conversation which I have been accustomed to describe as talking on a large scale, is, except on very important occasions, most ical to the natural softness and attractiveness of woman. ME 84 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. It is not, in fact, her forte; but belongs to a region of dis- play in which she cannot, or at least ought not, to shine. The excellence of woman as regards her conversation, consists rather of quick, and delicate, and sometimes play- ful turns of thought, with a lively and subtle apprehension of the bearings, tendencies, and associations of ideas; so that the whole machinery of conversation, if I may be allowed to use such an expression, may be made, by her good management, to turn off from one subject, and play upon another, as if by the direction of some magic influ- ence, which will ever be preserved from detection by the tact of an unobtrusive and sensitive nature. It is in this manner, and this alone, that women should evince their interest in those great political questions which arise out of the state of the times in which they live. Not that they may be able to attach themselves to a party, still less that they may make speeches either in public or in private ; but that they may think and converse like rational beings on subjects which occupy the attention of the ma- jority of mankind ; and it is, perhaps, on these subjects that we see most strikingly the wide difference betwixt the low views so generally taken, and those which I would SO earnestly recommend: _ If, for instance, a wife would con- verse with her husband about a candidate for the ot sentation of the place in which they live, she may, if she choose, discuss the merits of the colour which his party wears, and wish it were some other, as being more becom=_ ing; she may tell with delight how he bowed especially to her; and she may wish from her heart that the number os : votes may be in his favour, because he kissed her child, and called it the prettiest he had ever seen. It is this kind of prattle which may properly be described as small talk, and which it is to be feared denotes a littleness of soul. BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS, 85 Yet this style of talk may be, and sometimes is, applied by women to all sorts of subjects, not excepting politics, phi- losophy, and even religion. But, on the other hand, there IS an opposite style of conversation which may be used with equal scope of application, on almost all sub- jects, whether high or low: and it is a truth which the peculiar nature of woman’s mind renders her admirably qualified to carry out through ordinary life, that so inti- mately connected are our thoughts, and feelings, habits, and pursuits, not only with those of other beings of a simi- Jar nature, but with a state of existence in which that common nature will be more fully developed, that there is scarcely a fact presented to our knowledge, which has not a connection, either immediate or remote, with some great moral truth; and scarcely a subject brought under our consideration, which may not be ennobled by conducing, in some way or other, to the improvement of our moral “being. ‘ _ It will readily be perceived, however, that this exer- “cise of the powers of conversation, would be utterly unat- tainable to a woman of ignorant or vulgar mind—that she would alike be incapable of comprehending the desirable- ness of the object, and the best mode of its accomplish- ‘ment. And here I would again advert to an expression not unfrequently heard amongst young ladies, that they do not wish to be clever; by which we are left to suppose, by ‘their neglect of their own minds, that they mean either well- informed, or capable of judging rightly. Yet without hay-’ ing paid considerable attention to the improvement and cultivation of their intellectual powers, how will it be possi-= ‘ble for them to raise the generalt one ofthought and conver- ‘sation at their own fireside 2 sie Although I am not one of those who attach any high 5 86 | THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ‘ degree of importance to the possession of great intellectual _ endowments in woman, because I believe such natural gifts © to have proved much more frequently her bane, than her ~ blessing, and because they are not the qualifications of female character which conduce most to her own happi-— ; ness, or the happiness of those around her; yet if there be © any case in which a woman might be forgiven, for enter- é taining an honest pride in the superiority of her own tal- ’ ent, it would be where she regarded it only as a means of © doing higher homage to her husband, and bringing greater — ability to bear upon the adv ancement of his intellectual and — moral good. Indeed, what is the possession of talent to a woman, when considered in her own character, separately and alone ?—The possession of a dangerous heritage—a jewel | which cannot with propriety be worn—a mine of wealth, which has no legitimate channel for the expenditure of i vast resources. But let her find this natural and lawf medium for its exercise, and we see at once in what an en viable position she is placed. We see at once the heigl ' from which she can stoop, the costliness of the sacrific J she is consequently enabled to make, and the evidence | less valuable, which she can thus ne forward as proof her affection. e Nothing, however, can be more Belicate and try! ) than the situation of such a woman, and especially w her husband is inferior to herself; but if he should be solutely silly, it would require more skill than the write these pages can boast, to know what mode of treating to recommend ; for build him up as you will before c pany, and much may be done in this way by the exercis delicacy and tact,a truly grovelling man will sink again, there is no help for it. The charitable conclusion is, tha BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. 87 woman so situated must be content to reap the conse- quences of her own folly, in having made so unsuitable a choice. The best friend on earth would be unable to assist her, nor could the sagest counsel rectify her mistake. In the case of a highly gifted woman, even where there is an equal or superior degree of talent possessed by her ‘husband, nothing can be more injudicious, or more fatal to her happiness, than an exhibition even of the least dispo- sition to presume upon such gifts. Let her husband be once subjected to a feeling of jealousy of her importance, which without the strictest watchfulness will be liable to arise, and her peace of mind and her free agency are alike _ destroyed for the remainder of her life; or at any rate, until she can convince him afresh, by a long continuance of the most scrupulous conduct, that the injury committed against him was purely accidental, and foreign alike to her feelings.and her inclinations. Until this desirable end is accomplished, vain will be all her efforts to render homage to her husband as a superior. He will regardall such attempts as acts of condescension, assumed for no other. purpose than that of showing how * gracefully she can stoop. In vain may she then endeavour to assist or direct his judgment ; he will in such a case, most naturally prefer to thwart her, for the purpose of proving _ his own independence and his power. . The same observations will apply, though in-a milder de- gree, to cases in which thete have been any great ad- _ vantages of wealth or station on the side of the wife. The _ most unselfish and generous consideration, accompanied with the strictest care, are necessary here to avoid giving occasion of offence to that manly pride, which startles at nothing so much as owing dignity to a woman, and being reminded of the obligation. Re Ue aD y BEHAVIOUR TO HUSBANDS. - 89 than acknowledged by any single act, or recognized by any certain rule. It is in fact a being to come home to, in the happiest sense of that expression. Poetic lays of ancient times were wont to tell how the bold warrior returning from the fight would doff his plumed helmet, and, reposing from his toils, lay bare his weary limbs, that woman’s hand might pour into their wounds the healing balm. But never wearied knight, nor warrior covered with the dust of battle-field, was more in need of woman’s soothing power, than are those care-worn sons of toil, who struggle for the bread of life, in our more peace- ful and enlightened days. And still, though the romance of the castle, the helmet, the waving plume, and the ‘Clarion wild and high,” may all have vanished from the scene; the charm of wo- man’s influence lives as brightly in the picture of domestic joy, as when she placed the wreath of victory on the hero’s brow. Nay, more so; for there are deeper sensibilities at work, thoughts more profound, and passions more intense, in our great theatre of intellectual and moral strife, than where the contest was for martial fame, and force of arms '~ procured for each competitor his share of glory, or of wealth. _ Amongst all the changes which have taken place in the condition of mankind, it is then not the least of wo- man’s privileges, that her influence remains the same, ex- cept only as it is deepened and perfected as her own cha- acter approaches towards perfection. It is not the least of her privileges, that she can still be all to man which . _ his necessities require; that he can retire from the tumult ‘ of the world, and seek her society with a zest which no- thing can impair, so long as she receives him with a true and faithful heart—true to the best and kindest impulses of et Ws < 90. THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. which her nature is capable; and faithful to the sacred trust committed to her care. < _ And that it is so, how many an English home can wit- ness—how many a fireside welcome, how many a happy — meeting after absence painfully prolonged! Yes, there are scenes within the sacred precincts of the household * hearth, which, not the less, because no stranger’s eye be- holds them, repay, and richly too, dark days of weary con- flict, and long nights of anxious care. ‘But who shall ; paint them? Are they not graven on the hearts of Eng- lish wives? and those who hold the picture there, in all its : beauty, vividness, and truth, would scarcely wish to draw aside the veil, which screens it from the world. by F My “ CHAPTER YV. : CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 4 Wits regard to the behaviour of wives towards their — husbands, there is one great end to be attained, so unmea= surably beyond all others in its influence upon their happi- ness and their usefulness, that all which is requisite for the promotion of their true interest, might be summed up i: 93 this one recommendation—that the wife should endeavour, ~ before every other earthly thing, and next to the salvation of her soul, to obtain and keep her husband’s confidence. _ Without this, the marriage tie is indeed a galling chain ; and the woman who subjects herself to it, less enviable than areal slave. With this—with the perfect trust of nobler nature reposing on her own, woman is raised to degree of moral elevation, which, in her single state, she CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 91 never could have known; and if her own disposition be eenerous and grateful, she will feel it a sacred obligation not to abuse this trust. But the great and important question arises, how is this trust to be secured? With the most ardent desire to enjoy this, the chief good of married life, and the foundation upon - which all its happiness must rest, there are two ways in _ which woman may effectually fail—intellectually, and mor- | ally. In the first, she may fail from want of knowledge; in the second, from want of principle. In the first instance, whatever there may be in her con- duct or conversation exhibiting a want of judgment, of that “perception of fitness and adaptation, which is invaluable in the female character, and of a proper acquaintance with common things, is calculated to weaken the confidence of her husband in her ability, whatever her inclination may be, to make a good wife, a prudent mistress, or a judicious mo- ther. It isin vain complaining that this sentence is a hard one, when her heart is right, and when she really does her best. It is in vain complaining that her husband does not. trust her, either with the knowledge of his affairs, or the management of her own. Confidence in one being is not 4a matter of choice in another. It is what we ourselves : must purchase by an absence of failure on those points, in which the interests of another party are dependent upon us. If, then, a husband finds in his wife a degree of ignor- ance which renders her incapable of judging rightly in com- mon things, if he finds that she has never made any proper use of her powers of observation, that she has not been in the habit of thinking to any rational purpose, of discrimi- hating, comparing, or drawing right conclusions from what _ she has seen and heard, it Hoult be hard indeed to require a him to believe that she will act with prudence and propri- Py as igen. THE Wives OF ENGLAND, = ety as the miditess 0: ‘house; 2; and the mete consequence _ is, that she must be w: tched, suspected and i In “ope ae treated as a child, | ) | Tf therefore, i in ra | previous ad I have boyieh re- commended to the Daughters of England an early, and dil- igent cultivation of. their mental powers, it has not b that such embellishments of character as are classed under. 4 the head of “Cleverness, Learning, and Knowledge,” Orgy “Taste, Tact, and Observation,” should merely give zest to j lg 2 or throw an intellectual charm over the soci- te or mpanion in voc her husband can Pek fectly, ang at all times, pati. circumstances, over which the wife in her single ct no control. One of these is where the mind is naturally weak; and here the wife. would. certainly act most wisely, 1 by ae her actions and opinions under the direction of - her husband, and allowing herself to be treated accordingly, But there are also those who,'from no fault of their own, have, before marriage, enjoyed few advantages as ‘regard: " ‘mental cultivation. In this case, much may be done in the — _ way of making up for lost time; and where a studious. de- sire to do so is evinced, where a respectful and judicious re- ference to the husband’s opinion is sometimes made, and at . other times a still more judicious silence observed, t 1ese proofs of good sense and right feeling, will go a long, way towards obtaining the confidence desired. . But a far more serious, and it is to he feared me quent reason for the loss of this Pi ase tre as moral one. And her ei n apy » a “i _ CONFIDENCE. AND TRUTH. 93 in their operation, that it would require no common degree of knowledge of the human heart to be able to point them out with perspicuity and effect. The first thing I shall spe- cify 1 in relation to this part of the subject is, the essential importance there is, that every husband should feel himself “perfectly safe with his wife. . “Safe!” exclaims the worthy _ helpmeet, “with whom could he be safe, if not with me 2 Do I not watch him, care for him, and wait upon him with “a Solicitade that would screen him from ev ery approach of Pare ?? . All this may be true enough, and yet you may _ occasionally have taken advantage of your intimacy, for “disclosing weaknesses on his part, which need not other- wise haye been known; you may have marked your occa- ion when company was present, for throwing out hints = him which you dared not have uttered shat alone; Ror you may have betrayed an evident triumph before your _ friends, or your servants, on obtaining over him some ad- " yantage in opinion or argument. Although such offences as these may appear but very trifling items, when separately enumerated, yet their num- ber and variety sometimes make up a sum of considerable magnitude and importance, as they operate upon individual feeling, and evince too clearly a want of delicacy, gene- rosity, or real affection. They lead, in short, to the very natural feeling, on the part of the husband, that his wife is not the bosom. friend he had fondly imagined her, that she _knows no perfect identity of self with him, but has separate interests to which he and his affairs are liable at any time to be made subservient. _ . Ihave already said, that the dignity of man should al- “ways be studiously maintained; but there is also a delicate and respectful manner of giving way to a husband in little pete which i is the surest means of obtaining concessions | . 5* ey THE WIVES OF ENG) on his part, in reed cl: are of sive moment, simply because, having found his wife generally yielding, con- siderate, and oe to his wishes, he. aaa reason for doing so. ‘ . Upon the same principle, a wise woman will-nevér be > too requiring. She will neither demand from her husband those personal services which are degrading to a man and a gentleman, nor weary his patience by endeavouring to tease him out of every fault; for though the great end ( marriage should be rhage improvement, it is no more than fair, that the wife should allow her husband at least as many faults as he allows her. At all events, when lit- tle defects of character, and especially: - as a | ves strength is gained for mania a fina: against ths which are more serious; and the whosband who is kind] permitted to rest himself, if he chooses, in an awkward — position, and to wear an unbecoming coat because it is a , favourite, will be all the more likely, at the solicitation of . his wife, to give up habits which are bie more ob- _jectionable. , I ca All individual peculiarities, which may not exactly be | called faults, should be conceded to in the same manner ; _ always remembering, that what we allow to men on ‘the et ground of their love of importance and authority, they equal, and often surpass, in what they yield to our weak- ness, incapacity, and occasional perverseness. There are | many of these peculiarities, that, like our own, might eX- cite a degree of ridicule, which, however, ought never extend beyond mere playfulness, and not even so fa that, except yuiere it 1S received 1 in the same spirit. — CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 95 here avail myself of a convenient aside, to hint that there is often a great deal of unnecessary bustle and importance when men have any thing todo. But why should we mind that—why should we not allow them the satisfaction _ of feeling, that as regards the little world in which they rule supremely, all space is theirs, and all time? and if we have not patience to look on, and see the order of our house overturned, our dinner waiting, our servants called “away from their work, one to fetch paper, another a string’, and a third to wait until the mighty affair is complete; we have atleast the advantage, when the same thing has to ~_ be done again, of taking the opportunity to do it ourselves. » A respectable deportment, and a complying disposition, _ €yinced in these and similar cases, with a general willing- Press to accommodate all household arrangements to a husband’s wishes, making every other consideration sub- _ servient to his convenience, will ensure for the wife, who consistently does this, a large portion of that confidence upon which her influence and her happiness so much depend. But the greatest of all claims upon this confidence has yet to be considered; and would there were no occasion, in relation to this subject, so much as to whisper these words into the ear of an English wife—Never deceive! Were all men reasonable, temptations to do so would be infinitely less than they are ; for, difficult indeed is the lot » of that woman, who would act uprightly, whose judgment and principles are good, and who is yet thwarted by a narrow-minded, weak, selfish, or low-principled man. Let us imagine the case of such a wife, so situated that her lord is absent for the greater part of every day. Let us Exéoine her, too, surrounded by a family, having the in- terests of children, servants, and dependents to care for, and anxious to regulate the affairs of her household ac- - iin ? Jot was not yet fixed, from risking her happiness with such. ‘request, and into which a reasonable man would ‘not wis! cording to the principles of eiice and SL ancenaieel She bas her own conscience for her guide in all this, and if it be an enlightened one how 1 is she to make all her actions. ac- perverse, or partial, and aha ieclonk of her afield . and consequently determined to thwart her plans? Yet — how is she decidedly to oppose his wishes, consistently with the respect which is due from a wife ? : ts a 4 Surely the situation of such a woman, could it be con- t templated jn all its difficulties, and under all its gloomy shades, might be sufficient to deter any one whose married — a man. | If a woman thus situated, could by any ones) means contrive to manage her husband, so that he should , know it, I think the warmest advocate for the supremacy a of the loftier sex, would scarcely deny her such a privilege; — and unquestionably there are cases in which unreasonable husbands are made both happier and better, by being thus managed. Besides, the general order of a household, the direction of servants, and the influence of masters and mistresses over their dependents and inferiors, require that if good sense, right feeling, and sound principles, exist. Ole one side, they Bpould not be made subservient to ignorance, , prejudice, and caprice, on the other. ee I have said that all women have their rights, and it : would be wise to begin early in married life to act upon >: the principle, which allows to every wife a little sphere of — domestic arrangements, with which the husband shall not feel that he has any business to interfere, except Py, to obtrude his authority, simply because the operations cessary to be carried on in that department ae his 01 : CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 97 hold, are alike foreign to his understanding and his tastes. To submit every little act of domestic management to the opinion of a husband, would be unquestionably to have one-half of them at least either defeated in their object, or immediately put a stop to, from no other reason than pure ignorance of their nature, cause, and effect. Thus, unless a husband can feel sufficient confidence in his wife, to allow her to rule with undisputed authority in this little sphere, her case must be a pitiable one indeed. I have repeated the word Jittle, because I believe it is from an ambitious desire to extend the limits of this sphere, that many have brought trouble upon themselves, by hav- ing their authority called in question, more than it ever * would have been, had they remained satisfied with a nar- ower field for its exercise. But delicacy, and strict fairness, are both required on the part of the wife, to ensure to herself this desirable allowance of free agency, for she must remember, that her husband has also his appropriate sphere of action, and a much more extensive one than hers, in which she has no right to interfere, because, as in the case already stated, she is incapable of understanding what is necessary there 5 and.if on both sides there should be the exercise of this delicacy and fairness, in avoiding all assumption of a right which does not exist, it is imposible but that real affection should dictate the mutual development of much, if not all, “which could interest the feelings of either party. Thus, there need be no positive concealment, for that is the last thing I would recommend; but an open, honest, straightforward way of acting, as if each mind depended “upon the other, less for assistance in its own sphere, than for perfect propriety of feeling, and constant adherence to _ principle i in the sphere to which it more properly belonged. ay - 3 oa i, Pes deere, ee Sitges ey | ee 98 : THE WIVES. OF ENGLAND. — It is upon a right observance of distinctions such as these, that the dignity and usefulness of the marriage state in a great degree depend—from remembering that princi- ple must ever be the foundation of action; but that the “open disclosure of every act and purpose, must ever be a matter of choice ; and if regarded as such, there will beno doubt but mutual love will supply information enough to satisfy the most unbounded curiosity. Thus it has never appeared to me, that the free agency which a judicious wife should be permitted to enjoy in her own department, _ had any thing to do with concealment ; any more than ~ that the transactions in one public office should be said to be concealed from another, because each had its separate rooms and officers. So far from this, I should rather say that a generous nature, and especially that of woman, when — implicitly trusted to, and made to feel that trust, will, from a sense of grateful satisfaction, involuntarily disclose its every plan, purpose, and act, not even throwing a veil over its many failures and short-comings in the way of discretion : or duty. Indeed, so powerful in its influence upon the female character, is this feeling of being trusted, that I have often thought if man could know the heart of woman bettersphe might also guide it to his pleasure, by simply using this master-key to her gratitude and generosity. But I must not forget, that my business is with the behaviour of wives « to their husbands, not with that far easier subject i ina fee hand, the behaviour of husbands to their wives. ea Amongst other points of consideration, aa - woman’s conduct in her domestic affairs, that were this one consideration all which had to be taken into account, ws ier eas Be Ne a ne, pe yer. abut a hel eee Je eels ¢ ¢ 4 :: , lag as a ‘ i) . way 4 CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 99 * it would of itself be well worth every endeavour to ensure so desirable an end. I mean the open communication of the state of the husband’s pecuniary circumstances to his wife ; for Ican scarcely imagine any thing more congenial to the best feelines of a faithful wife, than to be made the partaker of all the interest and enjoyment her husband de- rives from prosperity and success; while, on the other hand, there is no greater cruelty, than that of allowing a woman of good principles and right feelings, to go on ignorantly conducting her household expenses, in a manner inconsistent with the real state of his affairs, when they are in any degree depressed or involved in difficulty. Yet how often has this been the case! How often has an honest-hearted woman had to bear the charge of hay- ing been in reality dishonest to her husband’s creditors, when ignorance, not! want of principle, was the cause! Besides which, how much may be done by domestic econo- my, and by a consistently meek and unpretending deport- ment, if not exactly to avert the calamity of a ruined house, at least to alleviate the wounded and bitter feelings which naturally arise amongst those who are the greatest — sufferers. The present day is one which claims peculiar attention to this subject; and if from any fault in the wife, from any betrayal of her husband’s secrets; any artifice or trickery practised against himself, any assumption of unbecoming importance on her part, any want of consideration for his feelings, or foolish and presumptuous interference with matters peculiarly his own—if from any of these causes, she has shut herself out from his confidence, now, before it shall be too late, is the time to begin a new system of be- Fe ur, for which she may edict be rewarded by being admitted into his bosom-counsels, and thus allowed 4 i ne ‘war THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — » to share, not only in all the hopes and fears arising ot of Be the fluctuating nature of pecuniary affairs; but also in . those nobler acts of self-denial, which accompany sound 4 and enlightened views of the requirements of bint in 4 _ all transactions of a pecuniary character. __ es What, then, of such importance as to obtain the per- fect and confiding trust of the companion with whom, or for whom, you have to act in every thing you do? and in order to this happy attainment, nothing is so. penal as _ that you should yourself be true. There is a spirit of truth and_a_ spirit of fulechood: | - pervading many of those actions, which could not be. said — to be either true or false in themselves. Yet, according to s the choice we make betwixt these, our behaviour: will be a upright, candid, generous, and free; or it will be servile, artful, selfish, and cowardly. It does not follow, i in-order to practise falsehood, that we must deviate from the exact letter of truth. There are methods of deceiving, as many, and as various, as the circumstances which chequ our ae experience every day ; and if a conscientious adherence to _ -. truth is not made the rule of daily hife, one act of duplicity : will grow out of another, until the whole conduct becom a tissue of artifice and deceit. “ The first and most innocent step towards falsehood is concealment. Before our common acquaintances there is - wisdom in practising concealment toa certain. extent; but — where the intimacy is so great, ‘the identity so ¢ 8 e tween a husband Mice a wile, concealment becom S a sor ro) act of teas nee can only oe kept up, _ ri artful endeavours to ward off suspicion, or- i. 3 a the ee concealed. a CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 101 % he will, unless these endeavours are carried out to a very great extent—when he discovers that his wife has been concealing one thing from him, he very naturally supposes that she has concealed many more, and his suspicions will be awakened in proportion. It will then be in vain to assure him that your motive was good, that what you did was only to spare him pain, or afford him pleasure ; he will feel that the very act is one which has set him apart in his own house as a stranger, rather than a guardian there—an ene- my, rather than a friend. | _ Why then should you begin with concealment? The answer, it is to be feared,is but too familiar—* My husband is so unreasonable.” And here then we see again the great advantage of choosing as a companion for life, a reasona- ble man, who may with safety and satisfaction, be made acquainted with every thing you think or do. After concealment has been habitually practised, there follows, in order to escape detection, a system of false pre- — tences, assumed appearances, and secret schemes, as much at variance with the spirit of truth, as the most direct a. and unquestionably as debasing to the mind. But, as an almost inevitable consequence, next follows falsehood itself; for what woman would like her husband to know that she had, for days, months, or years, been practising upon his credulity? If he discovers what she has been concealing, he will also discover, that often when Subject was alluded to, she artfully evaded his questions y introducing another ; that sometimes she so managed her cea as to convey one idea, while she expressed another ; that at other times she absolutely looked a lie. No, she nnot bear that he should look back and see all this, lest e should despise her; and, therefore, in some critical mo+ at, when brought into that trying situation in which she oe. ar re , >." + oS % tee 1) es, | ON wy. ees Sie. el ee 6aP ett ae, se oe Py tees Re eee ee” Se ee ART gt a eee ' Saeko aaa rae, Og wy aa =e aS Sn Sa’. ’ Nas Ab Oey 1 =a Re 7 ‘ r ‘ a “I a, ¥} J 102 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. & must either confess all, or deny all, she pronounces at last. that fatal word, which effectually breaks asunder the a ual bond of married love. i And now, it is scarcely possible to imagine a more He ~ lancholy situation than that of a weak and helpless woman, separated by falsehood from all true fellowship either human or divine; for there is no fellowship in falsehood. The very soul of disunion might justly be said to be embodied inalie. It isin fact the sudden breaking asunder of that great chain which binds together all spiritual influences ; and she who is guilty of falsehood, must necessarily be alone. Alone, for she has no sympathy of feeling with the beautiful creation around her, of which it has truly been said, that “nature never deceives.”,—Alone, for in that higher world, where all her secret thoughts and acts are’ registered, its very light is truth—Alone, for she has vo= luntarily become a stranger, a suspected thing, an enemy to that one friend in whose bosom she might have pound shelter and repose. vine It is a fact which scarcely needs to be repeated, ‘that the closer the intimacy, and the more important the trust, the greater is the individual injury, and consequently the y V tion of personal feeling, when that trust is abused. Thus when the child is first made to understand that it has been deceived by its mother, the very life of its little soul seems” for a moment to be quenched. When the father finds that his prodigal son has but returned to take advantage fe) -affection and credulity, his wounded spirit sinks, an weary heart is broken. But when the husband look earnest eyes into the countenance whose beauty was ont his sunshine; when memory flies back, and brings again | plighted vow, with all its treasury of truth; whe 1 thinks of that fond heart which seemed to ohne to his F CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 103 all the guileless innocence of unsophisticated youth—oh, it is horrible “ to be discarded thence,” by the dark demon of distrust, perpetually reminding him that the bright and sunny tide of early love, upon which he trusted all the riches of his soul, is but a smiling and deceitful ocean, whose glassy surface at once reflects the hues of heaven, and conceals the depths of hell. It is impossible to speak in language adequate to the importance of this cause, for by failure in this one point, the whole fabric of connubial affection, which might other- wise be made so influential in the promotion of every kind of good, becomes a heap of ruins, as disgraceful to the deceiv- er, aS unsightly to the deceived. Yet after all, is not the former the greater sufferer of the two ? - Is is not more miserable to be thus separated from all community of thought and feeling either earthly or divine, than to be the mere dupe of treachery or guile? Yes, and she feels it so, and out of her very desolation, sometimes awakes the voice of penitence, making confession of Some individual act of transgression, and craving with all the humility of utter wretchedness, to be reinstated in confidence and esteem. But this cannot be. The thing is impossible. The silver cord which has been loosed, no single act of human will can tie again. The golden bowl which has been broken, no single effort of human kindness can restore. : ; But may not years bring back the confidence so wan- tonly abused? Oh, blessed thought! Begin then a new e. Let truth be the principle of every thought, the echo of every word, the foundation of every act. Truth is in- incible—it must—it will prevail. Beautiful as the morn- ing it will arise; glorious as the noon-day it will shine orth ; calm as the evening it will be followed by repose ; Sir: 104 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. and thus each day may feel its gladdening and invig ing influence; while every flower that grows beneath its ray, will shed a charm upon the path of life. Spee. alk But if the regaining of confidence after it has bean lost, be an object of such immeasurable importance to attain, what must be the happiness of her who has never lost this treasure !—who has borne thruogh all change, and all trial, a true and upright heart towards her husband, who, though he may have sometimes mistaken, and some- times blamed her, has still been able to say, even when appearances were least favourable, and when perhaps he was most in need of the consolation derived from reposing, implicit confidence in her sincerity— baat « sa ‘Thou art my true, and honourable wife, As dear to me as are the re drops That visit this sad heart.” What, then, if she has sometimes suffered when it has seemed as if a little artifice would have made. all things easy, that suffering has been in a noble cause. And hel the reward !—the conscience void of offence towards that one being to whom she can be nothing, if not true—the fearless look—the unfaltering tone—the steady hand—the soul that might be mirrored forth before him—the hopes, the fears, that might be his—the workings of a busy mind, whose minutest. plans might all at any moment be laid bare before his scrutinizing eye—and onward, into the far future, not a dream but he might know it all—and onward yet—the blessed consciousness that, should the secrets of all hearts be read on the great day of everlasting doom, there would be one whose glance, and that the most fami- liar, would not detect a single act or thought of her whole f life inimical to his interests, or such as intel not have been revealed to him before. en" p F yt. US ee fy CONFIDENCE AND TRUTH. 105 - Nor is the mere escape from the uncertainty, anxiety, and pain, entailed upon the habitual practice of falsehood, all that has to be considered. A brighter picture in the page of truth, is that in which we see portrayed in living hues, the enjoyment of unburdening a full heart, and lay- ing open its secret treasury of thought and feeling to him whose earthly portion, whether it be one of weal or wo, must inevitably be blended with our own. And it is from this very identity that the practice and the love of truth becomes more important, as a moral obligation in the mar- ried state, than in all others. Indeed the perfect truth towards each other of individuals thus united, is as neces- sary to their welfare and their happiness, as the union and concurrence of the different members of the human frame is to the usefulness and integrity of the whole. It is, as has already been stated, the peculiar privilege of a strict adherence to truth, that it brings its own reward ; for if we voluntarily confess the truth, by this means we obtain confidence; if we suffer for truth, we have the con- solation of suffering in a noble cause, and of gaining strength by every effort we make in its support ; while, if we endeavour conscientiously to uphold the truth, and thus consistently exemplify the beauty and the power of this ereat attribute in the Divine government, we have the still higher satisfaction of doing our humble part to glorify the - arises from ignorance, rather than any other cause, I Sis Ps 106 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Fa ‘ Shs SEM ee Re eee CHAP TERey fT. THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. — Ir, in the foregoing pages, I have spoken of the mar- ried state as one of the trial of principle, rather than of the fruition of hope; and if, upon the whole, my observa- _ tions should appear to have assumed a discouraging, rather than a cheering character, it has arisen in the first place, ~ from my not having reached, until now, that part « of the subject in which the advantages of this connection are fully developed; and if in the second place, I must plea | guilty to the charge of desiring to throw some hinderances in the way of youthful aspiration, it has simply | been from observing amongst young people generally, how much greater is the tendency to make the experiment for them- selves, than to prepare themselves for the experiment. | iy If, therefore, I have selected words of warning, in pre- ference to those of an opposite nature, it has been because the tide of popular feeling, especially amongst young wo- men, is already sufficiently strong in favour of matrimonial alliances; while the disposition to ensure all the advan- tages of such an alliance, appears far beyond what bea any proportion to the desire evinced for submitting to t discipline, by which alone they can be rendered perman That this disproportion betwixt expectation and reality, fully prepared to believe—ignorance of the human he of the actual circumstances of human life, of the op tion of cause and effect in human affairs, and of the relatis duty of human beings one towards another. z THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 107 _. The numbers who have failed in this way to realize in their experience of married life, the fair pictures which Imagination painted before it was tried, it would be useless to attempt to enumerate; as well as to tell how many have thrown the blame of their disappointment upon situa- tion or circumstances—upon husband, servants, friends, or ‘relatives—when the whole has rested with themselves, and has arisen solely out of a want of adaptation in their views and habits to the actual requirements of the new state of existence upon which they have entered. That this state itself is not capable of the greatest amount of happiness which is expected from it, I should be sorry to deny; and all I would attempt to prove in the way of discouragement is, that its happiness will often .. to be of a pane kind from what has been antici- pated. All that has been expected to be enjoyed from the indulgence of selfishness, must then of necessity be left out of our calculations, with all that ministers to the pride of superiority, all that gratifies the love of power, all that converts the woman into the heroine, as well as all that renders her an object of general interest and attraction. It may very naturally be asked, what then remains ? ‘I answer, the love of married life; and in this answer is embodied the richest treasure igiich this earth. affords. All other kinds of love, hold by a very slender tenure the object of supreme regard; but here the actual tie is sev- ered only by the stroke of death, while mutual interest, “instead of weakening, renders it more secure. The love of a parent for a child, natural, and pure, and holy as it is, “can never bind that child beyond a certain period i “its influence; while the love of a child for a parent must “necessarily be interrupted in the course of nature, by the dissolution of its earthly hold. The love of a brother or a eS Rona ig 108 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — sister must ever be ready to give place to dearer dames , and that of a friend, though “very precious” while it lasts, has no real security for its continuance. And yet all these, according to the laws which regulate our being, in their own place, and measure, supply the natural craving of the human heart for something beyond itself, which it may call its own, and in the certainty of possessing which, it may implicitly repose. Nor is that a sage philosophy, which would deity the existence of this craving, or make light of its ‘requirements. There is no moody misanthrope, however solitary the lot he chooses for himself, but cherishes within the secret of his soul, some yearning thought of how he might have x been, and could have, loved. There is no agitator of public movements, hardened and sharpened by the fierce contact of contending interests, but seeks some chosen spot of rest, where the cold armour of his selfishness may be thrown off, before that being whose hand has been accus- tomed to pour into his bicae the balm of sympathy and love. There is no outcast from the holier walks of life, no victim of its cruel vices, no-maligner of religion and its sacred institutions, but acknowledges, at times, a secret impulse to cling to something more kind, more gentle, and. less degraded Ban himself. A Nor is it only in our human sympathies that this craving is developed. The tame bird, or the pet lamb, is folded to the solitary bosom of the neglected child, with __as intense a feeling, as if it knew the thoughts of tender- ness pent up, and aching there. The miser, whose grovelling soul is alike at enmity with God and man, enters his narrow cell, and, calling to his side his faithful dog, smiles on the unconscious animal with a look which. at once reveals the history of his wasted peatty Ang N THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 109 BF sive to say, it is sometimes even thus with ambition, ‘and with saa of these aims and occupations which absorb man’s life. -They are followed, not for the results they bring, so much as for the promises they offer—for the vaeue hopes they hold out, that their entire accom- plishment will satisfy the cravings of an insatiable soul. But, perhaps, more than in any other case, is it thus with literary fame, in the pursuit of which how many are urged on by a strong, though it may seem to some a fanciful impression, that the voice of feeling which has failed to find an echo in its own immediate sphere, may, in the wide world through which it is sent forth, touch in some unknown breast a sympathetic chord, and thus waken a responsive emotion. ~ But if with man, the most powerful and independent of created beings, there ever exists this want of spiritual reliance and communion, what must it be to the weaker heart of woman, to find one earthly hold after another giving way, and to look around upon the great wilderness of life, in which she stands unconnected, and consequently alone? If there be one principle in woman’s nature stronger than all others, it is that which prompts her to seek sympathy and protection from some being whom she may love, and by whom she may be loved in return. The influence of fashion is, perhaps, of all others to which the female sex is exposed, the most hardening to the heart—the most chilling to its warm and genuine emo- tions. Yet I much question whether the successful can- didate for public admiration, would not sometimes will- ¥ ingly retire from the splendid circle in which she is the antre of attraction, to receive in private the real homage oe one unsophisticated, noble, and undivided heart. Having failed in this, woman’s first and most excusable ie 6 110 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ambition, how often does she go forth into the world, to waste upon the cold and polished surface of society, those | capabilities of thought and feeling which might, if more wisely directed, have made a happy home; and how often | is she compelled to look, appalled and horror-struck, upon _ the utter emptiness of the reward which follows this — expenditure, when the same outlay in a different soil, and | under happier culture, might have enabled her. to gather | into her bosom a hundred-fold, the richer fruits of confi- | dence and affection. Ls It is only in the married state that the boundless capabilities of woman’s love can ever be fully known or appreciated. There may, in other situations, patie: > | instances of heroic self-sacrifice, object; but it is only here that the ee of Bin ne thet familiar occasions of every day, can afford opportunities of exhibiting the same spirit, operating through all those minor channels, which flow like fertilizing rills through’ the bosom of every family, where the influence of woman is alike happy in its exercise, and enlightened i in its cha- racter. 3 Out of all which our first parents. omciaie when they lost their high estate, it was mercifully permitted them to. retain their mutual love; and it is possible to imagine that the mother of mankind, even when looking her last upon that Eden whose flowers her care had tended, would turn to the companion of her banishment with a deeper _and more fervent appeal to his sympathy and affection, ee ~ than she ever could have felt the need of, in those bowers” of beauty where a leaf was never seen to fade. Thus ve of her very weakness, and from amongst. Se many ® snares THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 111 “urgent need, for the support of a stronger nature, with which her own can mingle, until it almost loses the bitter consciousness of having’ forfeited all claim to be still an inhabitant of Paradise. Lest, however, the temptations to this forgetfulness Should stand between her and the necessity there is to seek a higher anda holier rest, there has fallen on her earthly lot some shadows, which the light of earthly love is not sufficient to dispel. Even love itself has some- times failed; and, worse than all, in her own bosom has become extinguished. &. In order to know how to avert this calamity, it is necessary to endeavour to look calmly and dispasionately ~at the subject in every point of view, to dispel the visions of imagination, and to ask what is the real cause of failure, where woman has so much at stake. Love may arise spontaneously, but it does not continue to exist without some care and culture. In a mind whose ideas are all floating at large, and whose emotions of feel- ing or affection are left to the prompting of impulse, unre- strained by the discipline of reason, there will naturally arise strange wandering thoughts, which will be likely at any unguarded moment to undermine so frail a fabric, as Jove under such circumstances must ever be. One tendency in the mind of the married woman who has thus neglected the government of her own feelings, Will be, on every occasion of momentary vexation or dis- satisfaction, to compare her husband with other men to. “his disadvantage; than which nothing can be more dan- ‘gerous, or more inconsistent with that faithfulness which ought ever to be a leading characteristic in the love of “married life. Nor can any thing well be more impolitic or absurd ; since there is no human being, however excel- must necessarily endure the longest. But one “realizing 112 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. lent, who may not, in some way or other, be made to suffer by comparison with others. Besides which, what $$$ — right have we, as frail and erring creatures, to aspire, in this connection, to an alliance with a being entirely fault- less, or even more perfect than ourselves ? If then there should occasionally arise feelings of dis- appointment and dissatisfaction, as the lapse of time and a_ nearer acquaintance develope a husband’s faults, it is good to bear in mind that the same exposure of your own, from the same cause, must necessarily have taken place; and by often dwelling upon this view of the subject, a degree of charitable feeling will be excited, more calculated to humble and chasten the heart, than to imbitter it anne the failings of another. Still there are frequent provocations of temper; eich some men through ignorance, and others from perverse- ness, or the love of power, are not over scrupulous to avoid ; and these, to an irritable temperament, are often more try- ing than greater deviations from what is strictly right. Against the petulance and occasional resentment which _ an seisaniulation of these trials call forth, there is one great and solemn consideration, by which a woman of right feeling may, at any time, add sufficient weight to the balance in her husband’s favour—she may think of his death, of the emotions with which she would receive his last farewell, and of what would be her situation if de- prived at once of his love, his advice, and his protection. We are all perhaps too little accustomed to such thoughts as these, except where illness or accident places them immediately before us. We are too much in the habit of looking upon the thread of life with us, as far more likely to be broken first, and of thinking that the stronger frame. * ahd ota hed 5h a ; THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 113 thought that the sentence of widowed loneliness may pos- sibly be ours—how does it sweep away, as by a single breath, the mist of little imperfections which had gathered around a beloved form, and reveal to us at one glance the manly beauties of a noble, or a generous character ! Even beauties less than these—the kind look, the cor- dial welcome, the patient answer, the mild forbearance, the gentle and familiar acts of every day which never-tiring affection prompted, and the smile which beamed upon us perhaps when we deserved it least—all these come back, and live before us, as often as we think of the possibility of losing them for ever. And it is good to have the heart ‘thus softened and subdued—thus made to feel how com- pletely the petty provocations of each day would vanish from our minds, if we stood by the dying couch of him who never Offended but in little things, and heard the parting benediction of the friend who would fain leave behind him a blessing, which his living presence had failed to bestow. It is an unspeakable privilege enjoyed by the women of England, that in the middle ranks of life, a married woman, ~ however youthful or attractive, if her own manners are un- “exceptionable, is seldom, or never, exposed to the attentions of men, so as to lead her affections out of their proper channel. How much is gained in domestic and social happiness by this exemption from customs which prevail on the con- tinent, it is here unnécessary to attempt to describe; for I cannot imagine there is any right-minded woman, still less any Christian wife, who does ngt number it amongst the _ peculiar blessings of her country, and her sex. Yet even in our privileged land, where the established rules of society are so much more favourable than in others, to. the purity of social morals, and the sanctity of home-enjoyments, there - 114 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. may occasionally occur an attempted deviation from these rules, on the part of ignorant or unprincipled men. In all. such cases, however, the slightest approach to undue famili- | arity is easily repelled, by such a look and manner, as all | | | | women know how to make use of in discountenancing what | is not acceptable; and even in more trifling cases, or where the temptation to be agreeable overcomes the incli- nation to be otherwise, I believe that a frank and easy manner of speaking of a husband with respect and evident affection, would answer every purpose of putting a stop to such advances; while, on the other hand, nothing can be more likely to invite them, than speaking in complaining terms either of a husband, or of his behaviour towards yourself. But the surest safeguard both at home and hale and the truest test by which to prove the propriety of every look, and act, and word, when mixing in the society of other men, is a sincere and faithful love for the companion of your choice. Without this, it would be vain to lay down rules by which a wandering fancy might be kept in check. An enlightened conscience alone, in such a case, can point out exactly how to act; while with this love, there needs no other guide. It is itself so pure, so constant, and so true, that conscience only echoes what its happier voice ap- proves. And now, having thus loved your husband, and cast in your lot with his—having chosen his portion, his people, and his God for yours, it is meet that you should love him to the last. It is true, there are cases where a gradual de- - terioration of character, or a sudden fall from moral recti- — tude, renders affection the last offering a stranger would think it possible to make at such a shrine; but if others ___ turn away repelled, there is the more need for such a man, THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 115 that his wife should love him still—there is the more need ‘that one friend should remain to be near him in his mo- ments of penitence, if such should ever come; or to watch the lingering light of better days, so as if possible to kindle it once more into a cheerful and invigorating flame. Of all the states of suffering which have ever swelled the ocean of human tears, there is none in the smallest de- “gree comparable to the situation of such a wife; yet, as ge ak »by some law of nature, which raises the sweetest flowers from out the least apparently congenial soil, it is here that we so often see the character of woman developed in all its loveliest and noblest attributes. It is here that we see to what an almost superhuman height that character can rise, when stripped of its vanity, and divested of its selfishness. Alas! that she should wait for the chastening of a cruel scourge, before she will even aspire to that perfection of moral beauty of which her natureis capable! If to love the vicious, or the degraded, were necessarily to love their vices too, it would be a melancholy picture to see an amiable woman falling into such a snare. But though unquestionably too many do this, and sometimes ~ almost unconsciously assimilate themselves with vice, either from constant association. with what is evil, or from the habit of referring their own judgment of right and wrong to that of a polluted and degraded mind ; there are others who, with the nicest discrimination, and ori the clearest . convictions on these points, go on from day to day behold- ing what they hate, in the most intimate connection with what they love. me si While contemplating the fate of such, our only con- * solation is to compare their situation as it is, with what it would be, were there no channel open to mercy and to “a for the outpourings of a heavily laden heart through ry ot 116 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — * the medium of prayer. Friends bring no comfort, earth holds no consolation for those who weep such tears; yet often in the depth of their affliction have they been enabled i i a f ) - to own and bless the chastening of a Father’s hand, and to | feel that in that very chastening there was love! But it is time to turn our attention to that portion of _ the love of married life, which belongs more especially to the other sex; and here the first thing to be observed is, that no man’s heart can be said to be really gained before his marriage. He may be the most obsequious of beaux, the most flattering of admirers, and even the most devoted of lovers; but his affection has not been tried in the way which brings it to the severest test. Itis true it may have been tried by absence, by caprice, by coldness, or neglect ; but it has yet to be tried by the security of entire posses- — sion; by the monotony of sameness; and, I grieve to add, too aftoh by the neglect of those personal attractions by which it was at first so studiously invited. _ How little do women think of this, when, by the secu- rity of the marriage tie, they are rendered careless of the — preservation of the richest jewel in their bridal wreath, and ~ one which never yet was secured to its possessor by any te - outward bond! How little do they reflect, that while it is the natural tendency of woman’s heart to become more - tenderly attached to the being with whom she is thus asso- ciated, it is not so with that of man. And thus it becomes the study of a life, to retain in all its freshness and its’ beauty, the precious gem committed to their trust. Nor should we murmur that it isso. For once pos- sessed of this inestimable treasure, and securé of its con- tinuance, what should we aspire to beyond Otr present B state ? Even as things are, we seea marked neglect in the , behaviour of some wives; as if their husbands” a . i THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 117 equally bound to love, as to protect them. What then would be the degree of carelessness prevailing amongst women, if this were really the case, and if the heart of man invariably, and of necessity, went along with his duty as a husband ? Happily for our sex, however, there are means of secur- ing this treasure, more efficacious than the marriage vow ; and amongst these, I shall mention first, the desirableness of not being too requiring. It must ever be borne in mind, — that man’s love, even in its happiest exercise, is not hke woman’s; for while she employs herself through every hour, in fondly weaving one beloved image into all her thoughts ; he gives to her comparatively few of his, and of © these perhaps neither the loftiest, nor the best. His highest hopes and brightest energies, must ever be expected to expand themselves upon the promotion of some favourite scheme, or the advancement of some public measure ; and if with untiring satisfaction he turns to her after the efforts of the day have been completed ; and weary, and perhaps dispirited, comes back to pour into her faithful bosom the history of those trials which the world can never know, ‘and would not pity if it could; if she can thus supply to the extent of his utmost wishes, the sympathy, and the ad- vice, the confidence, and the repose, of which he is in need, she will have little cause to think herself neglected. It is a wise beginning then, for every married woman, to make up her mind to be forgotten through the greater part of every day; to make up her mind to many rivals too, in her husband’s attentions, though not in his love 5 _ and amongst these, I would mention one, whose claims it is folly to dispute; since no remonstrances or representa- _ tions on her part, will ever be able to render less attractive the charms of this competitor. I mean the newspaper, of “=e ~6* 2 ae ae ? 118 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. whose absorbing interest some wives are weak enough to _ evince a sort of childish jealousy, when they ought rather | to congratulate themselves that their most formidable rival | "1s one of paper. The same observations apply perhaps in a more serious _ manner to those occupations which lead men into public | life. If the object be to do good, either by correcting — abuses, or forwarding benevolent designs, and not merely _ to make himself the head of a party, a judicious and right- principled woman will be too happy for her husband to be instrumental in a noble cause, to put in competition with his public efforts, any loss she may sustain in personal at- - tention, or domestic comfort. A system of persecution perseveringly carried on against such manly propensities as reading the newspaper, or even against the household derangements necessarily accom- panying attention to public business, has the worst pussi- ble effect upon a husband’s temper, and general state of feeling. So much so, that I am inclined to thinka greater sum of real love has been actually teased away, than ever was destroyed by more direct, or more powerfully opes_ _ rating means. The same system of teasing is sometimes most unwisely kept up, for the purpose of calling forth a succession of those little personal attentions, which, if not gratuitously rendered, are utterly destitute of value, and ought never to be required. To all married women, it must be gratifying to receive — from a husband just so much attention as indicates a con- sciousness of her presence; but with this ackn wledgment, » expressed in any manner which may be most congenial to her husband’s tastes and habits, a woman of true delicacy would — ae * surely be satisfied without wishing to stipulate for more. * THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 119 _. Still less would she annoy him with an exhibition of her own fondness, under the idea of its being necessarily returned in kind. It isa holy, and a blessed mystery, from the secrets of which, in its mastery over the human mind, almost all women who have ever been beloved, have learned the power of their own tenderness ; but in proportion to _ the purity of its nature, and the sacredness of its exercise, is its capability of being abused and degraded. Thus, all exhibition of fondness. before a third party, may justly be looked upon as indicating a total ignorance of the intensity, and the purity, of that which alone deserves the name of Jove; while, could one imagine the possibility of such a thing, all exercise of this fondness made use of for the purpose of obtaining advantage over a husband’s judgment or inclination, could only be supposed to arise out of the meanest impulse of a low, an artful, and a degraded mind. But we cannot for a moment imagine such things really are. We cannot believe that a woman conscious of her personal attractions, could hang about her husband’s neck, or weep, or act the impassioned heroine, for the base _ purpose of inducing him to make some concession, which “in his calmer moments he could not be prevailed upon to grant. No, the true heart of woman knows too well, that that sweet gift of heaven, granted in consideration to her weakness, was never meant to be made use of as an instru- ment.of power to gain a selfish end; but was permitted her for the high and holy purpose of softening the harder and more obdurate nature of man, so as to render it capa- ble of impressions upon which the seal of ‘eternity might beset. . It requires much tact, as well as delicacy, to know how to render expressions of endearment at all times appropriate, and consequently acceptable; and as love is far too excel- ie = bi aes, 7 wwe ¥ ee } “ ¥. @ are a 120 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. . 2 lent a thing to be wasted, and tenderness too precious to | be thrown away, a sensible woman will most scrupulously consult her husband’s mood and temper in this respect, as well as remember always the consideration due to her own personal attractions ; for, without some considerable por- tion of these ay cpacie it will be always safest not to advance very far, unless there should be clear and direct encouragement to do so. Pitiful pictures have been drawn in works of fiction of the hopelessness of efforts of this nature; but one would willingly believe them to be confined to fiction only, for there is happily, in most en- lightened female minds, an intuitive perception on these — points, by which they may discover almost instantaneously from a look, atone, a touch responsive to their own, how — far it may be desirable to go, and by what shadow they _ ought to be warned, as well as by what ray of light they. - ought to be encouraged. | It may be easily imagined how an ignorant, or selfish woman, never can be able to understand all this, ¢ and how she may consequently make shipwreck of her ‘husband’s _ happiness, and her own peace, simply from never having _ known, observed, or felt, what belongs to the nature of the human heart in these its most exquisite touches of light and Shade; while, on the other hand, not the highest intel- lectual attainments, with the noblest gifts of nature, nor all the importance and distinction which these attributes obtain for their possessor in the world, will be able to efface fora moment the delicate perceptions of a truly sensitive woman, or to render her, in the deep gp nd fervent. love of which she is capable, otherwise than humble, and easily subdued; especially when she comes with child-~ like simplicity, to consult the dial of her husband’s love, at and to read there the i a of the adv EAE ‘or reced- 4 en, PR ex Do ee > omy a fy as Max . bad Es he “iad rod THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 12] ing shadows, which indicate her only true position through the lapse of every hour. It is an act of injustice towards women, and one which often brings its own punishment upon talented men, when they select as their companions for life, the ignorant or the imbecile of the other sex, believing that because they are so, they must be more capable of loving. If to be inca- pable of any thing else, implies this necessity, it must be eranted that they areso. But of what value is that love which exists as a mere impulse of nature, compared with that, which, with an equal force of impulse, combines the highest attributes of an enlightened mind, and brings them all with their rich produce, like flowers from a delicious gar- ‘den, a welcome and appropriate “offering at the shrine whereon the heart is laid. Still I must repeat, that it is not the superiority of talent, but the early and the best use of such as we pos- sess, which gives this power and beauty to affection, by directing it to its appropriate end. For as in other duties _ of woman’s life, without knowledge she cannot, if she would, act properly; so in the expression and bestowment — of her love, without an intimate acquaintance with the hu- man heart, without having exercised her faculties of ob- ‘servation and reflection, and without having obtained by early discipline some mastery over her own feelings, she will ever be liable to rush blindly upon those fatal er- ‘rors, by which the love of married life so often has been wrecked. In connection with this subject, there is one considera- tion to which sufficient weight is seldom given; and that is, the importance of never trifling with affection after the “nuptial knot is tied. To do this at any time, or in any “way, is scarcely consistent with the feelings of a deeply San “« 129 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. sensitive and delicate mind; but leaving the display of caprice to those who think it gives zest to the familiarity _ of courtship, it cannot be too deeply impressed upon the female mind, that with the days of courtship it must end. There are innumerable tests which might be applied — to the love of married life, so as to ascertain the degree of its intensity, or the progress of its declension; but who would wish to apply them ?—or who, even if they did, would dare to make so critical an experiment ? If there be any cause for its existence, the consciousness comes soon enough, that the wife is not all to her husband which the flattering promises of early love prepared her to expect; and if there be no cause for the slightest shadow of sus- picion that her star is beginning to go down, why trouble” her own repose, and that of her husband, by question-— ing the reality of what it would be worse than death to doubt ? 8 mre All teasing, all caprice, all acting for the purpose of renewing an agreeable effect, are therefore inimical to the mutual trust, and the steady confidence in reciprocal affec- tion, which are, or ought to be, enjoyed by individuals thus bound together by an indissoluble tie. . Not that the writer would for a moment wish to discountenance that harmless vivacity which some women know so well how to: charm; or to speak of the privacy of married life as con- . sisting of dull and sombre scenes. So far from this, it is her firm belief, that nothing tends more to animate and re- new the feeling of affection in the mind of man, than the cheerfulness of his fireside companion. ss: oe It is here, then, that the display of native wit and humour may be enjoyed with the greatest zest, for here it is safe; and the husband who comes home to have his spirit refreshed by an easy, natural, and well-timed de-~ i THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 123 scription of the amusing incidents which have taken place during his absence, will not be the most likely to prefer another fireside to his own. ~ Even in illness, but especially when labouring only un= _ der a slight degree of indisposition, by those who have made cheerfulness a familiar habit, much may be done to prevent the double burden of sickness and sorrow falling upon a husband at once. There is a vast difference between being as ill as you ean be, and as well as you can be. To aim at the latter, rather than the former, is the duty of every one, but espe- cially of the married woman, the great business of whose life 4s to soothe and cheer, not to depress, to weary, or to an- Poy. If, therefore, before marriage, she has been deluded “into the notion that a multiplicity of little ailments invested her character with an interesting kind of delicacy; the sooner she becomes perfectly well after marriage, the bet- ter it will be for herself, and for all around her. Lest, however, the liberty of these remarks should ap- pear to touch unkindly those who are really afilicted, I must refer the reader for a proof of what may be done in the way of bearing pain with cheerfulness and resignation, to those many beautiful instances which adorn the history of woman, where her own sufferings appear to be for- gotten in the intensity of her desire to make others happy. And here again we see the necessity of having made such acts of self-sacrifice habitual. No human being, however great the momentary effort, can practise this kind of self- government, or consistently exercise this degree of gene- rosity, merely from the force of transient impulse; and when the greater claims upon the attention of a wife render illness to her a more painful and trying dispensation than “ithas ever been before, she will feel the greater need of * “Ny =: iS he 7% - 124 j THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. having practised 3 in her early years, the habit of so far re- straining the expression of personal feeling, as by making 2 the best of her afflictions, and gratefully embracing such op- portunities of enjoyment as still remain, to be able to render it not an irksome duty, but a privilege, to. be near her in sickness and suffering. It is a great pity when those trials which render affec- tion so asepial to our support, should be made the means of driving it away. Nor is it at all necessary that this should be the case with men; for there is a kindness, and a forbearance, mingled with their higher virtues, which sometimes elicits from them the most devoted and delicate attentions in the season of illness; and all who have expe- rienced, and felt the real value of such attentions, will esti- mate them too highly, to be willing that a habit of fretfal or unnecessary complaining should thus deprive the hour of suffering of its greatest earthly consolation. | It would not be just, even if it were possible, to speak on this subject, and to leave unmarked by expressions of _ gratitude and admiration, the gentle kindness and untiring patience, with which some men can devote themselves to the duties of a sick room ; or how, by their superior strength, — added sometimes to a higher degree of tenderness and del-_ icacy, they can render those services to a weak or suffering — wife, which nothing but the love of married life can either purchase or repay. But though one would willingly for- give the wife, who for the gratification afforded by such ~ kindness, would almost wish to suffer, it must ever be re- membered, that not by complaining of every little ache and ; pain, is such kindness to be purchased; but by bearing with — sweetness and serenity, those trials which the all-wise Dis- poser of human events sees meet to inflict. % It is in seasons such as these, that the perfect identity THE LOVE OF MARRIED LIFE. 125 originating in the marriage bond, is most deeply felt—that identity which gives a spiritual nature to an earthly union. It is true we are told there is no such thing as giving in marriage in heaven; but we are left to enjoy the happiness of believing, that there is something almost heavenly in the “marriage of true minds’—something which brings us nearer, than any other circumstance in this sublunary state, to an apprehension of what must be the enjoyment of those regions of felicity, where all existences are blended into one, and where the essential principle of that one is love. Nor is it the least wonderful property belonging to this drop of sweetness in life’s great ocean, that it can exist al- most independently of outward circumstances. How many ‘of the hapless inheritors of poverty and suffering have no- “thing else; and yet their lot is scarcely to be called bitter, so long as they have this. On the other hand, how many a desolate but jewelled brow, would doff its envied wreath, for the privilege of sharing this enjoyment with one who was equally loving and beloved. ~ Let us not, however, fall into the romantic notion, that outward circumstances have nothing to do with the main- tenance of this strong feeling of identity. Poverty of it- self, or privation in the abstract, would probably never be able to shake the foundation of man’s love, or woman’s either; but such is the complicated texture of the human mind, that no single portion of suffering or enjoyment ex- ists to us alone, but each draws along with it a train of asso- ciating links, by which it is connected sometimes with what 4s most heterogeneous and dissimilar to its own nature. Thus it is the manner in which poverty is borne, which so frequently constitutes the greatest trial of love—the mutual _complainings, recriminations, and suspicions which it calls forth; not its suffering, its destitution, and its abasement, | . ‘a - a PASM NOU SMa BaNMECO a Ie hy (PRI CR aes Pere eee oa an ee z pa} Spe VGN LRN a = Fee ee eee IRS toy OE fy nee ae Meaney 1s 126 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. for under these, it is within the province of love to support and to console ; and, on the other hand, it is the vanity, the dissipation, oad the diversity of interests excited by circum-— stances of extraordinary prosperity, which often prove fatal — to the love of married life; when the wider range of duties _ and privileges belonging to an exalted station, might have constituted a stronger bond of sympathy between individu- als thus elevated peeeitice Thus the fault is not in the love of married life, that it | gives way so often under the trial of outward circumstan- ces; but in the power so frequently brought to bear against it, from the wrong feelings which circumstances are allow- ed to.call into action. | Of man’s love it must ever be remembered too, that iy once destroyed, it is destroyed for ever. Woman has the strong power of her sympathy and her imagination, by which interest can be re-awakened, and the past can be made to live again; but the nature of man’s affection ad- mits of no very potent stimulus from such causes. When once his tenderness towards the object of his affection is extinguished, his love may too truly be said to have lost its bloom, its freshness, and its intensity. A sense of duty may still supply what propriety requires, and a feeling that his doom is fixed may prevent any great expenditure of thought - in sad and unavailing regrets; but who that has looked “on this picture and on that’”’—who that has observed the dull — and leaden aspect presented by married life under these cir- cumstances, could contemplate with equanimity of mind, — the possibility of its succeeding in the place of that bright and glowing picture first brought to light by the early pe mise of mutual love ? a It should then be the first and last study of every mar- ried woman, to preserve this picture in all its purity, and : TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 127 all its freshness ; remembering ever, that it is not from the great and stirring accidents of time, that the most danger is to be apprehended ; but that sometimes— “ A word unkind or wrongly taken; Or Love, which tempests never shook, A breath—a touch like this hath shaken.” It is not, therefore, by exemption from outward calamity that woman can preserve this treasure of her life ;. but by maintaining through all the little incidents of daily inter- course a true and faithful heart toward her husband—true in its own affections—true also to the various requirements of human nature—and true in its attachment to his inter- ests, both as they relate to time and to eternity. CHAPTER VII. TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. Ir in describing the domestic happiness of English homes, the love of married life were all which had to be dwelt upon, the task of the writer would be like that of one who enters a garden for no other purpose than to cull the flowers; but as amongst the fairest productions of nature, the intrusion of noxious weeds must ever be antici- pated ; so amongst the brighter scenes of human life, dark “passages must occasionally be expected ; and happy will it be, if they only appear like passing clouds over the land- Scape, leaving the aspect of the whole more vivid and beau- -tiful, for the trifling interruption to its sameness and repose. That married life has its peculiar trials, it would imply 128 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. great ignorance of the actual state of human affairs to attempt to disprove; and while we gladly admit the fact, that it is possible to be happier in this state, than any human being can be alone; we must also bear in mind, that it 7 possible to be more miserable too—perhaps for this very reason, that the greatest trials connected with this state of — existence, are such as cannot be told, and therefore such as necessarily set the sufferer apart from all human sympathy and consolation. Many of these, however, may be greatly ameliorated by a willingness to meet-them in‘a proper way; but more especially, by an habitual subjection of | self to the interests, and the happiness, of others. : Amongst the trials peculiar to married life, we will first speak of those of temper; and here it is necessary to refer again to the common delusion prevailing amongst young women, which leads them to look forward to the ~ time of marriage, as to the opening of a scene of unlimited indulgence, where every wish will be consulted, and every inclination gratified to its full extent, and where conse- quently it will be impossible that offences should ever come. | It requires but little reflection to perceive, that even if — the husband had been sincere in all the promises, which as a lover he held forth, it would not be in his power to ren- der the lot of any woman one of uninterrupted enjoyment ; | for however faithfully bis own part might be fulfilled, it would still be the inevitable consequence of thus setting | out together in the serious business of conducting’a 10uSse= hold, that circumstances should press upon both, so as either to thwart their inclinations, or bend them to sub- | mission. Beyond these, however, it must be allowed, that there are no trials of temper arising out of the cross occurrences incident to family affairs, at all to be compared a TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 129 with those which belong to the close intercourse of persons of dissimilar habits bound together for life. It is a curious fact, that however irritable the temper ‘may be, a stranger has comparatively no power to ruffle it; while, on the other hand, the closer the intimacy, the greater is the liability both to pain and provocation, where that intimacy is made use of as a key to the secret passages of the heart. Hence the bland and patient smiles with which a stranger is sometimes listened to, when:a sister or a brother conversing in the same style, would scarcely be endured; and hence the peevish answer sometimes be- stowed upon a husband, when a guest is immediately spoken to in the gentlest and most conciliating tone. There is something, too, in the bare fact of being in- dissolubly bound together, which, instead of rendering it for that reason an object of supreme desire that the bond- age should be one of silken cords, rather than one of weary chains, seems to produce in the human mind, a sort of perverse determination to bear, whatever must be borne, as badly as we can. That the prospect of having to combat with any trial of temper but for a very limited space of time, has a pecu- liar effect in rendering it more tolerable, we have sufficient proof in the conduct of hired nurses, who, perhaps, of all human beings, have the most to put up with in the way of provocations of this kind. It cannot be supposed that per- ‘sons of this description possess any peculiar advantages in the way of mental discipline, to give them this power of ‘self-command ; nor is it a question of self-interest, for of _all persons, that would be most likely to operate upon the wife; neither have they time or opportunity, in the major- Mity of cases, for attaching themselves by any feelings of affection to the objects of their care. It is the simple fact 130 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. that all will soon be over, and that to them it is ultimately” of no sort of consequence, which enables them to bear with such amazing equanimity the trials of patience to which | _ they are so frequently subjected ; while, on the other hand, the consideration that it must be thus, and thus always, appears at once to excite a spirit of resistance where resist- ance is most vain. But granting that there is, inherent in the human mind, this spirit of contradiction, and granting also that men with all their dignified and noble attributes, are sometimes, though often unconsciously, indescribably provoking to an - irritable temperament ; there is one consideration which a generous mind will be ever willing to dwell upon with so much candour, as at least to make concessions when it has been betrayed into any excess of irritability, if not wholly to submit with cheerfulness and resignation to this peculiar dispensation, regarding it as amongst the appointments of Providence, designed for purposes inscrutable perhaps to human reason, yet not the less in accordance with mercy, and with wisdom. But in order to judge more candidly on yes subjeee let us single out a few instances of the most familiar kind on both avant and if the merit of unconsciousness, and absence of design, does not preponderate on the side of man, I shall be much mistaken in my calculations. Ihave always been accustomed to consider it’as the severest trial to the temper of a married. woman, to have an idle husband ; and if in addition to neglecting | his busi- : ness, or such manly occupations as an exemption from the necessities of business would leave him at-liberty to pur- sue, he is personally idle, sitting slipshod at noontime, with his feet upon the fender, occasionally jarring together the whole army of fire-irons with one stroke of his foot, TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 1S agitated at intervals by the mere muscular irritation of having nothing to do, or not choosing to do any thing ; and if he should happen to have chosen for his wife a ‘woman of active bustling character, as such men not un- frequently do, I believe I must, as in some other instances, ‘leave it to the reader to suggest some possible means by which such a woman may at all times control her temper, and keep the peace at her own fireside. _ One thing, however, is certain in such a case—it is not by ebullitions. of momentary indignation that an idle man can be stimulated into action. So far from it, he will ra- ther be made worse, and rendered more obstinately idle by any direct opposition to the indulgence of his personal in- clinations. . Whatever good is to be done in stith a case, can only be effected from the convictions of his own mind, brought about by the quiet operation of affectionate and judicious reasoning; for if the wife should be unguarded enough to. throw out reproaches against him, representing the disgusting nature of idleness in its true colours; or if she should seek to establish her own claims to his exertions, so as to convey an idea of her arguments tending to a self- ish end, she might as well Ya “99 kindle fire with snow,” as attempt to rouse her husband into healthy and consistent habits of activity by such means. Here, too, we might mention as pre-eminent amongst the trials of married life, though I question whether it ope- rates so immediately upon the temper as some others, the ruinous propensity inherent in the nature of some men, to “spend their own money, and sometimes the money of their friends, in vague speculations and visionary schemes. es The man aba is possessed with this mania, for in cer- Ie2 ; THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. tain cases it deserves no other name, is neither to be con- vinced by argument nor experience, that after ninety-nine failures, he is not very likely to succeed the hundredth time; and the wife who knows that the maintenance of herself and her family is entirely dependent upon him, has abundant need for supplies of strength and patience beyond. what any earthly source can afford. | Amongst other causes of irritation, and forming reason= able ground of complaint, is the disposition eine by some men to be, inconsiderate and ‘cruel to animals; and this, I must think, is one of the cases, in which we are recommended to be angry and sin not. Yet even in this” instance, when we look at the education of boys—and consider the absence there is of all regard to the feelings of animals, even in the minds of the most delicate females, except where early instruction has given to this regard the force of principle—great and charitable allowance ought to be made for the conduct of men in this respect: and perhaps the best and only means of remedying the evil, which any woman can adopt, is to bring up her children, if she be a mother, with higher and more enlightened views of the requirements of Christian duty. rth - It is a well known fact, that men in general appear to consider themselves justly entitled to the privilege of being — out of humour about their food. Thus the whole pleasure — of a social meal is sometimes destroyed by some trifling — error in the culinary departihent, or the non-appearance of . some expected indulgence. But here again, our forbear- ance is called into existence, by remembering the pro- bability there is, that such men have had silly. mothers, ~ who made the pleasures of their childhood to consist chiefly of such as belong to the palate: and here too, if the wife — cannot remedy this evil, and in all probability it will be. e F EL TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 133 beyond her power to do so, she may, by her judicious ef- forts to promote the welfare of the rising generation, im- part to the youthful minds committed to her care, or sub- ject to her influence, a juster estimate of what belongs to the true enjoyment of intellectual and immortal beings. With all occasions of domestic derangement, such as washing-days, and other renovations of comfort and order, some men of irritable temperament wage open and deter- mined war. But, may we not ask, in connection with this subject, whether their prejudices against these household movements have not been remotely or immediately ex- cited, by the extreme and unnecessary confusion and dis- turbance with which they are too frequently accompanied ? For I cannot think that a reasonable man, on comparing an English home with a French one, for instance, would desire to be altogether exempt from such domestic purifi- cations; and if properly managed, so as to interfere as little as possible with his personal comfort, and conducted with general cheerfulness and good humour, such a man might easily be brought to consider them as necessary to the good of his household, as the refreshing shower is to the summer soil. A causeless and habitual neglect of punctuality on the part of the master of a house, is certainly a grievance very difficult to bear ; because as he is the principal person in the household, and the first to be considered, the whole ‘machinery of domestic management must necessarily be ‘dependent upon his movements ; and more especially, since it so happens, that persons who are the most accustomed to keep others waiting, have the least patience to wait for others. Thus it not unfrequently occurs, that a wife is all day long urging on her servants to a punctual attention to the dinner-hour appointed by her husband, and when that | 7 134 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. hour arrives, he has either forgotten it himself, or he allows” some trifling hinderance to prevent his returning home until one, or perhaps two, hours later. Yet the same man, though in the habit of doing this day after day, will be exclusively annoyed, if for. once in his life he should- be punctual to the appointed time, and not find all things: ready on his return. oi tl Perhaps too the master of a family, on days of house- hold bustle, when extra business has to be done, will not. choose to rise so early as usual; or he will sit reading the newspaper while his breakfast waits, and thus keep every member of his family standing about unoccupied, with all the business of the day before them. Or, he may be one of those who like that women should be always ready long before the necessary time, and thus habitually name an hour for meeting, or setting out from home, at which he has not the remotest intention of being ready himself. Now, as the time of women, if properly employed, is too precious to be wasted, something surely may be done, not by endeavouring to control the movements of such a man so as to make him true to his own appointment, but by: convincing him, that common honesty requires him simply to state the actual time at which he does intend to be ready. And here we see at once, one of those numerous instances in which a reasonable man will listen, and en- deavour to amend ; while an unreasonable man will either not listen, or not take the slightest pains to improve. Again, there are men who like the importance, and the feeling of power and decision which it gives them, to set out on a journey as if upon the spur of the moment, with- out having communicated their intentions even to the wife, who is most interested in making preparations for such a movement. And there are others, who when consulted { *’ oR we ee Mer eT TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 135 about any thing, cannot be brought to give either their at- tention or their advice, so as to assist the judgment of a wife, who would gladly give satisfaction if she could ; yet when the time to act upon their advice is past, will bestow their attention a little too severely upon the unfortunate be- ing, who, consulting her own judgment as the only guide she had, will most probably have done exactly what they did not wish. But it would be an endless task, to go on enumerating instances of this description. I have merely mentioned ‘these as specimens of the kind of daily and hourly trials which most women have to expect in the married state ; and which, as I have before stated, may be greatly softened down, if not entirely reconciled by the consideration already alluded to. Besides which, it is but candid to allow, that the greater proportion of these offences against temper and | patience, originate in one of those peculiarities in the char- acter of man which I have omitted to mention in its proper place. I mean the incapability under which he labours, of placing himself in idea in the situation of another per- son, so as to identify his feelings with theirs, and thus to | | enter into what they suffer and enjoy, as if the feeling were his own. This capability appears to be peculiarly a feminine one, and it exists amongst women in so high a degree, as to leave them little excuse if they irritate or give offence to others; because this innate power which they possess of identifying themselves for the moment with another nature, | might, if they would use it for such a purpose, enable them ‘not so much to know, as to feel, when they were giving pain, orawakening displeasure. Men, as I have just stated, _ aré comparatively destitute of this power, as well as of that _ of sympathy, to which it isso nearly allied. When, there- yg) 136 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. fore, they appear to women so perverse, and are conse- quently so difficult to bear with, it is often from their being wholly unconscious of the actual state of the case; of the long entanglement of inconveniences which their thought- less ways are weaving ; and consequently of the wounded feeling, disappointment, and vexation, which such thought- lessness not unfrequently inflicts upon the weaker mind of woman, when the whole framework of her daily existence must be regulated by the movements of a husband who thinks of “ none of these things.” But we have not yet sufficiently examined that one’ consideration, which ever remains to be weighed in the balance against the trials of patience arising out of the conduct of men. And here we must first ask—Have you yourself no personal peculiarities exactly opposed to your husband’s notions of what is agreeable ?—such as habits of disorder, dressing in bad taste, or any other of those minor deviations from delicacy or good breeding which he might not have had an opportunity of observing before marriage ? We all know that in men these peculiarities are of little importance, compared with what they are in the other sex. If, therefore, you offend in these things, you run imminent risk of impairing, by a succession of little annoyances, the warmth and the intensity of your husband’s affection; for man’s love, it must ever be remembered, is far more de- pendent than that of woman, upon having the taste and the fancy always pleased, and consequently upon reposing with perfect complacency on the object of its regard. Have we not all, then, abundant cause to be grateful for being borne with in our infirmities, and loved in spite of our per sonal defects ? op | % But if such peculiarities as these are of sufficient impor- tance to cast a shadow over the sunny spots of life, what TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 137 must we say of some others occasionally observable in the character and conduct of women, to which it is scarcely possible that much charity should be extended ? ~And here T would ask, if you have never treasured up against your. husband some standing cause of complaint, to be thrown at him when an opportunity is offered by the presence of a friend, or a stranger, for discharging this weapon from the household quiver with perfect safety to yourself? Have you not upon the whole preferred having such grievances to complain of, rather than taking such peaceable and ju- dicious measures as would be likely effectually to accom- plish their removal ? Have you never, in addition to this, refused an offer of personal gratification when it was convenient or agreeable for your husband to indulge you with it; and professed a Somewhat exaggerated desire to accept of it, when the thing was impossible, or at least extremely difficult for your husband to grant ? Have you never made the most of household troubles, spread forth the appurtenances of a wash, allowed the affairs of the kitchen to extend themselves to the parlour, complained unnecessarily of servants and work-people, and appeared altogether m your own person more harassed, exhausted, and forlorn, after your husband’s return home, than you did before, on purpose that he might be compelled, not only to pity you, but to bear a portion of your domes- tic discomfort himself ? ~ When a concatenation of cross occurrences, hinderances, or mistakes, have rendered every moment one of perplexity and haste; have you never, when involved with your hus- band in such circumstances, added fuel to the fire by your own petulance, or by your still more provoking exclama- tions of triumph, that you “ thought it would come to that ?” vy eee 138 - THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Or, when your husband has returned at an hour considera-_ bly later than he had appointed, have you never begun with breathless haste to remonstrate with him, and even allowed your remonstrances to extend to reproaches, before you gave him time to vindicate himself, or to say whether he had not in reality been unavoidably detained ? Now, it is impossible for any woman of right feelings to hide from her conscience, that if she chooses to marry, she places herself under a moral obligation to make her husband’s home as pleasant to him as she can. — Instead, therefore, of behaving as if it was the great business of married life to complain, it is her peculiar duty as a wife, and one for which, by her natural constitution, she is especially fitted, to make all her domestic concerns appear before her husband to the very best advantage. She has time for her troubles and turmoils, if such things must necessarily be, a fact which I am a little disposed to ques- tion, when her husband is absent, or when she is engaged exclusively in her own department; and if she would make his home what it ought to be to him— an ever-sunny place,” she will studiously shield him, as with the wings of love, from the possibility of feeling that his domestic an- noyances give weight and poignancy to those more trying perplexities, which most men, engaged either in business, or in public affairs, find more than sufficient for their peace of mind. Ca Ao By those who write on the subject of temper in connec- tion with the happiness of married life, much is- generally said by way of giving weight to the importance of guard- ing against the first angry word. But though it is unques- tionably most desirable, to keep the tablet of experience as long unsullied as we can, 1 do not see exactly how this rule applies more to offences of temper, than to any other TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 139 transgressions of the law of perfect love; for if it be felt, as it must be, a breach of this law to utter an unkind expres- sion; it is equally so to allow any evidence to appear of a disposition to act counter to a husband’s wishes, or even to forget or neglect what he considers essential to his com- fort. - Indeed; so various are the circumstances to which any remarks upon.the subject of temper must apply, that the best possible plan which could be proposed for maintaining harmony and good feeling in one instance, might be the worst in another. As a case in point, there are unques- tionably some individuals so constituted, that if in a moment of irritation, they do not speak out, the smothered feeling forcibly pent up, assumes with them the character of sul- Jenness, and even approaches to that of dislike towards the offender. Besides which, we should never know when we did offend, and might consequently go on to the end of life inflicting perpetual annoyance upon our fellow-creatures, if there were no outward evidence of displeasure which our inadvertences were causing. Not that I would by any means be guilty of recom- mending an approach to those violent outpourings of heat- ed and impassioned feeling, which mark out some of the darkest passages of Guinn life, by the remembrance, never to be obliterated, of angry and cruel expressions not pos- ‘sible to be often repeated without destroying the tender- ness, and even the very life, of love. What I would say on the other side of the question, is simply this—that in reference to temper, no general rule can be laid down, scarcely can any human aid be called in, because of the diversity of dispositions upon which the influence of temper operates, and the difficulty to mere human reason of dis- covering exactly what is best for every case. . In this, as in 140 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. every other instance of human frailty, it is the power of religion upon the heart and conduct, which alone can af- ford any lasting or effectual help. re lag And after all, as the subject bears upon the affection of human beings one towards another, which creatures frail as we are, and in a State of existence so imperfect as the present, it is not by an exemption from all offences that the purity or the strength of human love can be main- tained ; but far more so by mutual forgiveness, by sym- pathy with each other’s infirmities, and by the constant ex- ercise of that charity which ¢hinketh no evil, and which suffereth long, and 1s kind. . But leaving all further consideration aa the trials of temper, as a subject which from its endless variety might rather be made to fill volumes than pages; we must turn to subjects of a more serious and alarming nature, and amongst these, it cannot be out of place to speak first of the eves ioration of a husband’s character, as taking pre- cedence of other trials incident to married life. I have already said there can be no calamity in the vast catalogue of human miseries, at all comparable to watching the gradual extinction of that guiding light from the moral influence of a husband, to which a wife might reasonably be allowed to look for her greatest earthly en-_ couragement in every effort to adhere to the dictates of duty, or the requirements of Christian principle. Here, then, it becomes most important to inquire, what can be done to stem the tide of evil, before it shall have borne away the whole fabric of domestic happiness. Rg A true-hearted woman, herself impressed with the im-_ portance of moral and religious principle, will ever be most — watchful of her husband’s safety in this respect ; and if her own character, and her own example, are such as to give - TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 141 weight to her remonstrances, there is no calculating the de- gree to which her influence may not extend. Women, too, are often remarkably quick-sighted to the minor shades of good and evil; and they are thus sometimes enabled to de- tect a lurking tendency to what is wrong, before the mind of man is awakened to suspicion. Even in business, then, and in all affairs in which men are most liable to be delu- ded by self-interest, and by the prevailing customs of the world, and thus are too frequently betrayed into transac- tions at variance with the spirit, if not with the letter, of the law of just and honorable dealing; a right-minded wo- man may sometimes so place before her husband the affair in which he is engaged, as to make him see at once the ° error into which he might have fallen; and having seen this clearly, she may possibly enjoy the satisfaction of be- holding him adopt, throughout his intercourse with others, a more strict and equitable rule of action. As this subject, however, in its highest and most serious import, belongs more properly to a subsequent chapter, we will consider more especially two particular defects in the moral character of men, which may be truly said, wherever they exist, to constitute the severest and most painful trials of married life. The first of these is intemperance ; and here I am aware that my own views on this subject are scarcely such as ought to occupy a place in this work; not because I could not ear- nestly recommend them to the adoption of every English wife, but because, to do them ample justice, I should be compelled to fill a volume. Intemperance, then, to treat it as a common vice, should, like every other evil tendency, be watched in its commence- ment; and here the eye of a conscientious and devoted wife will be far better able to detect the mischief, than his, who, 71* 142 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. perhaps, in the secret of his heart, would rather not behold — it if he could. . I believe there is no difficulty to a delicate- minded person, equal to that of warning a beloved friend: or relative, of his danger in this respect, else why do we see so many hundreds—nay, thousands looking on, and not stretching out a helping hand until it is too late? The fact is, that if impressed in any common measure with a sense of justice or of generosity, we cannot do it, so long as we ourselves pursue the same course, only not exactly to the same extent. We cannot look into the face of a familiar friend, and say—“ If you take one ylass more, you will be guilty of a vulgar and degrading sin; while I, by taking one glass less, commit no sin at all.” And it must come to this, where it is the degree, and not the act itself, which constitutes the evil. It must come to the small- est possible measurement, to mark that minute, and ever shifting line, which separates an act allowed and sanction= _ ed by the wise and good, from one which stamps a human. being with infamy in this world, and deprives him of all title to admission into the blessedness of a world to come. Leaving it then to women whose hearts might have an- imated the wives of Sparta, if the absence of all sympathy and tenderness for the weak in their weak points, may rank amongst the characteristics of those heroines of the past—q leaving it to such women to sit down every day to an in-. duleence, which in a mere trifle of extent beyond their own — measure of gratification, they would deny to a husband—I_- must candidly confess, that [am wholly at a loss to know | what to advise, should that husband, advancing a little and ! a little farther by imperceptible degrees, at last exceed the bounds of strict Propriety and finally hasten on towards — the “drunkard’s grave.” ‘ It is said again and again of such men, that they ought | TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 143 to stop in time; but which is the time? It may vary ac- cording to the state of their own health, as well as with the nature of the refreshment of which they partake; while with no two individuals will it ever be found exactly the same. Besides which, it must always be remembered, that the right time to stop, is the time when the intemperate man least wishes to do so; because in exact proportion to his danger, has been his inability to perceive it, and his increase of inclination to go onward towards excess. Tell me then, ye wise and potent reasoners on this sub- ject, who hold yourselves above the vulgar error of believ- ing that total abstinence is the only safe and efficient means of rescuing the tempted man from ruin,—tell me, or rather tell the afilicted wife, what I am utterly unequal to, by what means she is to conquer, or even to restrain, the habit of intemperance in her husband, except by inducing him alto- gether to abstain, and by abstaining altogether herself. One remark, however, may not be inappropriate here, as it applies equally to the point of view in which the subject has so long been held by the world in general, and to that in which it is the happier privilege of some in the present day to behold it.. I mean that a husband should never be made the subject of reproach for transgressions of this nature. If he be a man of feeling, his spirit will be sufficiently wounded by a sense of his own degradation ; and if not, he will only be hardened by such treatment, and driven, as a means of revenging himself, into still greater EXCess. - Indeed, nothing but the utmost delicacy, forbearance, and gentleness, will ever be found to answer in such a case; and whatever means are employed, they must be confined in their operation to seasons of perfect sanity, and especially reserved for those occasions of fitful penitence, 144 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — which often succeed to the most extravagant indulgence ; when, partly from the weakness of an exhausted frame, and partly from the satiety of inclination, the victim of © intemperance will sometimes throw open his heart toa confidential friend, whose kind and judicious treatment of him at such times, may not improbably be rendered con- ducive to his ultimate recovery. Here, too, much may be done by making his home all that it ought to be to a husband, by receiving him on his return with cordial smiles, by amusing him with pleasant conversation, but, more than all, by exercising over him, in a mild and prudent manner, that influence which it is the high privilege of a loved and trusted wife to attain. Could all women who encourage their husbands in the commencement of intemperance, not only by smiling with evident satisfaction at any extraordinary proofs of good humour or excitement as they begin to appear, but beyond — this, and far more effectually, by their. own example— could all such women “ look to the end,” and see the bitter fruits of this trifling with the serious indications of a grow- ing evil, they would stand appalled at the magnitude of their own sufferings, in having to watch, from day to day, through their future lives, the gradual extinction of all they had ever loved in the being to whom they. must still be — united. They would see then how the very countenance may lose its beauty, and like some hideous form that grows upon us in a feverish dream, assume first one aspect of dis- tortion, and then another, until all trace becomes extinct of the “ divinity”’ that stirred “ within.” They would see then : what an awful wreck is that presented by a lost and pol- luted mind; and they would feel, in all its reality, what it is to be desolate and alone. For the woman thus circum- stanced must not complain. She must not ask for sympa- | uae ae eee aoe | Pes fap P TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 145 thy, for that would be to expose the folly and disgrace of him about whom her hopes still linger; over whose de- _ graded brow she would still fondly spread the soft shadow of her tenderness, that no ray of piercing ght might reach it, to render more conspicuous its deformity and its shame. No; she can only lock her griefs in her own bosom, and be still. | It must be from ignorance, for the phenomenon is not _to be accounted for in any other way than on the ground of ignorance of what is to be found in human life, as well as what is the capability of the human heart for suffering, and enjoying, that leads so many well-intentioned women into such culpable neglect of points connected with this im- portant subject. One would willingly believe that it was because they had never, even in idea, realized what it must be to live through onelone night of anxious expectation, when the crisis of a husband’s fate had come, and when that single _ night would decide whether he had sufficient mastery over himself to resist, or whether he would allow his inclination to lead him for the last time over the barrier, and finally to plunge himself and his helpless family into irremediable wretchedness and ruin. It is in such seasons as these, that every moment is indeed an age, and every pulse like an advancing or reced- ing wave, which falls. with heavy swell upon the shore of life. And then what sharpening of the outward senses !— what quickening of the ear to distant sounds, giving to that which lives not, a vitality, until the very step is heard, and then—another wave of the fast-ebbing tide, and allis gone, and all is silent as before. The eye, too, though dim with ‘ tears, and wearied out with watching, what does it not be- hold ?—creating out of “strange combinations of familiar ‘ee 146 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. things, some sudden and unexpected evidence that he has returned! Yes, already come! Then follows an instanta- neous flash of relf-reproach for having judged him with too | little kindness. But,no; the vision fades away, and with it sinks the heart of the 65 creduJous believer. - And if such be the quickening of the outward senses, what must be that of the different faculties of the mind +— of memory, whose cruel task it is through those long weary hours, to paint the smiling past, to make it live again. with such intensity of loveliness, that while no factual, form intrudes, nor actual sound breaks through the chain — of thought, the fantasy grows real; and old impressions wake again, and voices speak so kindly, and cordial looks, and gentle loving acts, are interchanged, and pure soft feel-» ings towards each other, as in those early days when the sweet, “ trysting time” was kept, and hope made light of expectation. Oh, agony * It is a dream—a very dream. Nay, worse—the vision of the sleeper may return 5 bat ee can never—never live again! ; There is no credulity like that of love. However FIRES, may be the fear which alternates with hope in the mind of her who is thus situated, she has, under all, and supporting her through all, the deep foundation of her own unchang- - ing love—that love which is strong as death. And by the same comprehensive rule, which to her includes in one close union, every faculty and feeling of her soul—by this rule — she judges of her husband, and calculates the probability of his return. By this rule it is impossible that he should for- — get her prayers, and her entreaties, her sorrow, her suffer-. ing, and her tears. By this rule then he must of necessity remember her in that gay circle, even when its mirth and © its revelry are at their height. She has wronged him ‘ deeply wronged him, to think he could forget. Another TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 147 hour will find him by her side, repaying, Oh, how richly! all her anxious fears. With these sweet thoughts she rises, and trims her fire again, and draws her husband’s chair beside the hearth, be- thinking her with joyous recollection, of some other little acts of kindness by which she may possibly be able to make his home look more attractive. But still he comes not; and that strange sickness of the heart begins again, and creeps along her frame until her very fingers ache with anguish; and tremblingly her hands are clasped together, and were it not for prayer, her heart would surely break with its strong agony ; for stillhe comes not. Yet,—slowly as the heavy hours drag on, the midnight chime at last is heard, that solemn peal, which tells to some its tale of peace, of safety, and of home; while it speaks to others but of darkness, desolation, and despair. But who shall fill from one sad moment to another the page of busy thought, or paint the ever-shifting scenes which flit before the lonely watcher’s mind? Another hour, and still he comes not.—Yet hark! It is his step— She flies to meet him—Let us*close a scene for which earth holds no parallel; for here are mingled, horror, shame, repulsion, and contempt, with a soft tenderness like that of some sad mother for her idiot child—joy that the shrouding wings of love once more can shelter him—bliss that no other eye but hers is there to see—kind yearning thoughts of care to keep him in his helplessness from every touch of harm—feelings so gentle, yet so powerful, of a strange gladness to be near him in his degradation—to press the hand which no one else in the wide world would hold—to kiss the brow which has no trace of beauty left! And to " do this, night after night—to live through all the changes ~ of this scene, through months, and years, only with less of hope, and more of anguish and despair ! = 148 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Such is the picture not exaggerated, for that would be _ impossible, of one short portion in the experience of how many women! We cannot number them. ‘They are to be met with in society of every grade, and yet society for the most part can rest satisfied to do nothing more than pity them. Nor scarcely that; for the same voice which speaks with feeble fariientations of the suffering of the wife, will often press the husband to the festive board, and praise the sparkling wine, and urge him to partake. 2 But it is time to turn our attention tothe contemplation of another of the trials of married life, of which it is to be hoped that few who read these pages, will have any cause to think with reference to themselves. It may be. said, “ Why then remind them of the possibility that such causes of trial may, or do, exist?” I answer, that al- though the extreme of the case to which I am about to al- lude, is, happily for us, comparatively seldom known amongst respectable families in the middle ranks of life in England ; yet, there are degrees of proximity to these eXse tremes, existing sometimes where we should least expect to find the cheerful aspect of domestic life cast under such a cloud. ) In reflecting seriously and impartially upon the love of married life, we must all be forcibly impressed with the — fact, that the love which is most frequently presented to the notice of the observer, is far from being such as we our- selves should be satisfied to possess ; or, at all events, not such as women of deep and sensitive feelings would expect to meet with in the married state. It is true, there: are in- more | : | oe " ! ead, TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 149 it not that in such instances, we see the possibility of earth- ly love being kept in all its vigour and freshness, uninjured by thie lapse of time, it would be useless to follow up the inquiry every married woman ought to make—by what means is this love to be preserved ? If inspeaking of the peculiar trial about to occupy our attention, I use the word unfaithfulness, to signify my meaning. it is less in reference to’those extremes of moral delinquency which sometimes stain the history of private, as well as public life, than to those slighter shades of the same character, which more frequently flit across the sur- face of domestic peace; or, what is still more lamentable, remain to cloud the atmosphere of home-enjoyment, until the whole experience of married life becomes as dull, and soulless, and devoid of interest, as if the union was simply one of habit or convenience, endured with mutual indiffer- ence, yet dragged on with decency and something like re- spect, because it was “so nominated in the bond. a * But is it right that creatures endowed with capabilities for the highest and holiest enjoyment, should be satisfied with this?) Nay, isit possible that happiness of so low a gerade, if one may call it such, can fill the heart whose quick susceptibilities, whose trembling emotions, and whose living depths, have been formed to answer, and to echo every touch and tone of feeling, from the highest thrill of ecstasy, down to the lowest notes of wo. No; if we are réckless how we turn from its high destiny, a nature thus endowed; if we will thussink the immortal in the material, so as merely to work out with mechanical precision the business of each day, in which the animal nature holds i pre-eminence over the spiritual, we must not venture to complain that life is vapid and monotonous, or that there As ARS in the world to remind us of that blessedness 150 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. which is promised as the portion of the age ks in sate next. . ae Whatever we aim to possess as a priv ilege. even in “this life, let it then be of the highest order ; and having attained our wish, let us seek to preserve that privilege unimpaired. That which elevates the soul inits capability of enjoyment, is always worthy of our care; while that which lowers it, is always to be feared. In nothing is this more important to be observed, than in the preservation of earthly love. That which degrades the standard of affection, degrades the whole being; and that which raises this standard, raises also every faculty which can be. connected either immediately or remotely with the exercise of the affections. I have already described, in some particulars, how that best gift of Providence, the love of a faithful and devot- ed husband, is to be preserved. We have now the painful task of supposing that it has been allowed, by some means or other, to fall away. There are faint and frequent symp- toms of this decline, of which the judgment takes no co nizance, until after the heart has been made to feel thane = and although I have already alluded to the folly and the danger of voluntarily looking out for such symptoms where there is no reason to suppose they exist, there may be equal, if not greater danger, in disregarding them where they do. hs I will only mention as the first of these symptoms, an increased tendency on the part of the husband to be repel- led or annoyed by little personal peculiarities. And here it may be observed, that almost every impression injurious to the love of man in married life, is personal or immediate, rather than remote. Thus a husband will more easily for- give his wife for an act of moral culpability, provided it has no reference to himself, than for the least persona TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 151 front, or the slightest occasion for even a momentary sen- sation of disgust. It consequently happens, that when af- fection begins to wane, the husband often becomes annoyed with the voice, the manner, the dress of his wife, more than he is with those of other women. She has, then, some peculiar way of doing every thing which seems to jar upon his senses; and in time he ceases so entirely to look, to listen, or to linger near her, that unless more than com- monly obtuse, she must be made to feel that she has lost her power to charm him, and when that is Jost—alas, for the poor wife! Still we must not forget, that there are two kinds of unfaithfulness, the one arising entirely from estranged affec- tion ; and the other from attraction towards a different ob- ject. In the latter case it does not always follow that af- - fection for the wife shall have become extinct, and there- fore there is hope; but, in the former, the fact that man’s love when once destroyed is destroyed for ever, excludes ‘all possibility of consolation, except from a higher and a surer source. - As well might the mourner weeping for the dead, expect by tears and Jamentations to reanimate the lifeless form; as the unloved wife to recall the affection of “her husband, after the bloom and tenderness of his love is gone. Who then would incur the risk of so vast and irre- parable a loss, by a neglect of those personal attractions by which it was her study in early life to charm? Who would allow a careless or negligent behaviour to impress her husband’s mind with the conviction, that he was not in her estimation of sufficient importance to make it worth her while to please? or who would be willing that the powers of her mind should fall into disuse, when they might i. their happiest and yet most natural exercise, be made _ conducive to the one great end of increasing her husband’s _ interest in his home ? * fas) 152 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. To feel herself an unequal companion to the being whom of all others she would most wish to please, to have never cultivated her powers of conversation, and to be ‘conscious that her society is vapid and uninteresting, must be one of the most painful and humiliating feelings to which an amiable woman can be subject: but to see, what is very natural in such a case, that others have a power which she has not, to call forth the higher faculties of her husband’s mind, to elevate his thoughts, to charm his fancy, and to enliven. his spirits !—Surely if the daughters of England could realize by any exercise of their imagi- nation, the full intensity of feelings such as these, they would cease to be careless about the cultivation of those means of promoting social and domestic happiness, with which every woman who enters upon the yhes of a wife, ought to make herself acquainted. a But beyond this vague and general feeling of being neglected, and this incapacity for doing any thing to avert so desolate adoom, it sometimes happens that there is real cause to suspect a transfer of the husband’s interest and affection to another. And although nothing can be more destructive to the happiness of married life, or more at variance with the nature of true and deep affection, — than a predisposition to suspicion on these points; yet where the case is too evident to admit of doubt, it would evince a culpable indifference in the wife who could suffer it to remain unnoticed. | Here, however, if ever in the whole range of human _ experience, it is necessary to act with delicacy and cau- tion. - It is necessary in the first place to be sure. In the next, no selfish motive, no indignant feeling, no disposition — to revenge, must mingle with what is said or done on so melancholy and momentous an occasion; for thou she t es of virtue, and the purity of the feavale char: ee ee ee ee * TRIALS OF MARRIED LIFE. 153 well as the temporal and eternal good of the offender, alike require that some decided measures should be adopt- ed to avert the evil; the wife herself must not forget, that under such circumstances she possesses no other than a legal claim—that as a being to be cherished and beloved, she is utterly discarded from her husband’s heart—that scarcely is his home her own—that her respectability, her position in society, all that in which an honoured and a trusted wife delights, are only nominally hers; and that she is in reality, or rather in all which belongs to the true feelings of a woman, a low, lost thing, more lonely, piti- able, and degraded, than the veriest outcast from society who still retains a hold upon her husband’s love. What then are admiration, wealth, or fame, to such a woman ? Society, even though she were its idol, would have no power to flatter her; nor could the wide world with all its congregated millions awake within her desolate bosom a single thrill of pride. No, there is nothing but uncom- Sine loneliness, and utter self-abasement, for the por- tion of that wife who cannot keep her husband’s heart ! It is in this spirit alone, that with any propriety or any hope, she can appeal to a husband’s feelings, carefully guarding against all expression of tenderness, no longer welcome or desired ; and keeping as it were aloof in her humility ; yet withal, casting herself upon his pity, as one who is struck down by a beloved hand, will kiss the instru- ment of her abasement ; putting aside all selfish claims, as indeed she must ; and making it evident, that though her own happiness is wrecked for ever, she cannot live without a hope, nor breathe without a prayer, for him. _ And surely if all this is carried out to the full extent of yoman’ s delicacy, disinterestedness, and truth; and if ac- con panied by earnest and unceasing prayer for that help 154 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. _ which no human power can then afford—surely towards a ~ “wife thus suffering and sincere, the husband whose heart is not yet wholly depraved, could scarcely withhold his pity, his protection and his love! And if the husband should relent, if he should renounce the object of attraction to his wandering fancy, though nothing can obliterate the past, or break the chain of asso- ciation between that and the thousand apprehensions which must of necessity link themselves into the sad future; all. these dark thoughts must be concealed within her bosom, into whose secret counsels, and more secret eriefs, ‘no earthly friend must be admitted. Neither must sadness cloud her brow, nor any lurking suspicion betray itself upon the smooth surface of her after life, but vivacity and cheer- fulness again must charm; while a manner disengaged, and a mind at liberty to please, and receive pleasure in return, must prove the mastery of principle over Kehna affec- tion over self. If with a wife thus circumstanced, the power to forget should appear the greatest mercy a kind Providence could bestow; andif this mercy being denied, the aspect of her life should look too dark to be endured, she must not forget that one. earthly consolation yet remains—it is that of having kept her own affection unchanged and true: and, oh! how infinitely preferable is the feeling of having borne unfaithfulness, than of having been anfaithfel ourselves! | But beyond, and far above such consolation, is that of being remembered in her lost and low estate by Him who _chasteneth whom he loveth ; of being permitted in her de- gradation to come and offer up her broken heart to him; 33 when deprived of every other stay, to call hin Father, and to ask in humble faith the fulfilment of his gracious ay, of protection to those who put their trust in him. | POSITION IN SOCIETY. 155 CHAPTER VIII. POSITION IN SOCIETY. Iv a previous work addressed to the “ Daughters of England,” I have proposed as the first serious inquiry of a thinking mind, that all young persons entering upon the active duties of life, should ask this question—what is my actual position ? And if in the season of early youth this question is important, it is equally, if not more so, imme- diately after marriage, especially as the position of a woman must always depend upon that of her husband, where so- ciety is so constituted that a man may raise or lower his wife, though no woman, except in very peculiar cases, can effect any material alteration in the rank or station of her husband. ~ Thus it is highly important, in taking upon herself the duties of a new home, that the wife should ascertain pre- cisely what is her position with regard to those with whom she associates ; for there is as great a deviation from good sense, integrity, and right feeling, in being servile to the great, as in being Raagtnly to the poor. - But it is impossible to enter upon this subject, without being afresh reminded of one of those inconsistencies, which mark the general tone of feeling and habit in soci- ety of the middle ranks in England. I mean a striking inequality between the degree of refinement, self-indul- gence, and luxury, existing amongst men, and that which is generally found amongst women of the same rank. In ilies whose dependence i is entirely upon business, this is pecially the case, at least in our large towns and cities; 156 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. for, while the sons are sent out at an early age, to engage in all the drudgery of the shop or warehouse, the daughters remain at home, not unfrequently the occupants of elegant drawing-rooms, with little else to do than practise their music lessons, manufacture their wax-flowers, or pursue, according to the popular notions of the day, those various and infallible methods of renovating a feeble constitution, which, in nine cases of ten, in reality wants nothing but a little wholesome activity to render it as strong as icon happiness or usefulness require. | | Now, though itis far from the wish of the writer to wage war against any of those ingenious occupations which fill up the spare time of young ladies in general, provided such occupations are kept in their proper place, and made to fill up spare time only ; yet against the morbid feelings” both of mind and body, which are engendered by a life of mere trifling, all who wish well to the sex, both in this and other countries, must feelit a sacred duty to use such nee ence. as they possess. | It is, however, the foolish pride, and the false notions of what is, or is not, becoming, naturally arising out of the’ state of existence to which our-young dadies of the middle class of society in England are consigned, which, more’ than any thing else, interferes with their happiness, and pre- vents their being in reality either a help or a comfort to the companions whose lot they are bound to share for life. England, as a nation, has little to boast of beyond her intellectual and her moral power. It isin this that her superiority is felt and acknowledged by the world; and ia this, it might almost be allowed her to indulge a Sort of honest pride. That this power is chiefly lodged with the middle classes, I think al] have agreed; and that, originat ing in them, itis made to operate more extensively throu POSITION IN SOCIETY. 157 the efficient instrumentality of a comparatively well-ordered and wisely-governed population of working people. What then would England gain individually or collect- ively, by the middle classes aspiring upwards to imitate the manners, and adopt the customs of the aristocracy? No; let her shopkeepers be shopkeepers still; her farmers farmers; and the wives and daughters of such honest, manly, and honourable citizens of the world, let them no longer blush to owe the comfort of their homes to the pro- fits of a well-conducted trade. To say nothing of the want of right submission to the will of Providence, evinced by being foolishly above the station we are born to; it isin my opinion a sort of rebel- lion, or rather treachery, against the welfare of our coun- try, to be thus unwilling to maintain, what future ages will agree to have been the glory of the times in which we live. Besides which, it requires but little knowledge, but lit- tle observation of society in other countries, and but little acquaintance with the world in general, to see that those distinctions which give to one occupation so much more dignity than another, must be purely conventional. Let let us look, as an instance of this, at the vast difference we make in our notions of gentility between wholesale and retail business. And though a man of noble birth, as he drives by necessity through the bustling streets of Lon- don, would smile at the idea that trade was not a degrada- tion of itself sufficient to exclude all notion of degree ; yet the tradesman living at his shop knows perfectly well that his wife and daughters have no right to visit with the wife and daughters of him who keeps his country house, and sells en masse, from some dark warehouse in the city, the self-same articles in which the other deals. 8 & 158 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Still these distinctions, strongly and clearly as they are occasionally impressed upon the inferior classes, become sometimes a little intricate, as wealth enables its possessor to advance in the scale of luxury and indulgence. When the city shopkeeper, for instance, obtains sufficient to en- able him to settle in his rural villa, from whence he issues every morning to his counting-house in town, the wife and daughters who remain to set the fashions of the village where they live, how immeasurably far are they from holding intercourse with any of the shopkeepers there ! Even when affairs connected with the welfare of the neighbourhood render it necessary to call upon the shop- keeper’s wife, they meet her in a manner the most distant, and the most unlike what could by any possibility be con- strued into friendship. But in order to see more clearly the perfect te of such distinctions, we have only to make a sudden transi- tion of thought to the state of a new colony, on some un- civilized and distant shore; and ask what difference any one would think of making there, between the member of that little community who should prepare the skins of wild animals for general use, and him who should manufacture such skins into articles of wearing apparel ? or who would pronounce upon the inferiority of occupation in him who should employ himself each day in catering for a single meal, to that of him who should, ina longer space of time, provide for many meals together ? That the man who held the reins of government over such a community, would merit some distinction, I am free to allow, because his situation would be one to which he must have risen either by his own superiority of mind, or by the unanimous consent of the rest, who agreed, at the time they appointed him to the office, to evince towards’ POSITION IN SOCIETY. 159 him the respect which fis always due to influence rightly exercised. In the same manner, and according to their different degrees of capability, many of the others would, no doubt, work their way to offices of responsibility and trust, instituted for the good of the whole body, and each entitled to its share of respect and confidence. But that working in one material more than another, handling one article of food or apparel, or even dealing in a large or a small way, with those who buy and sell, should be able to create distinctions of such importance as to separate society into mere fractions, or to invest one party with honour, and cast odium upon the other, is a phenomenon which has been left for the enlightened stage of civilization in which we live, fully to develope, though the march of intellect has hitherto failed to reduce the whole to a system, so as to be understood and acted upon with any degree of certainty and precision. _ It may be said, and perhaps with too much truth, that the business of shopkeeping, as it is generally conducted, has little tendency to ennoble the character; and that per- petually striving to please for purposes of self-interest, those who in reality are sometimes cordially despised, is lowering to the dignity of a man, to say nothing of a gentleman. It may be asked, on the other hand, who, in the present state of society, is exempt from this particular kind of de- eradation ? The lawyer, who may be said almost to hold the destinies of his fellow-creatures in his hand—he cringes to his wealthy client, and often works his way to distinc- tion by concealing his real sentiments, and pretending to be other than he is. The doctor, too, with his untiring pa- tience, and his imperturbable serenity, approaching with apparent kindness and respect, where every feeling of his soul is repelled—who would speak of him as an indepen- Te Aah eas Sa ed 160 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. dent man, more especially in the outset of his career? Nor is this less the case with other professions, all which, how- ever, are esteemed more honorable, and consequently more eligible, than any kind of trade. “But still— «A man’s a man for a’ that;” and let his occupation be what it may, it is the honest heart, the upright principle, the steady mind, and the unbi- ased judgment, which give him dignity wherever he may be placed. The man who possesses these qualifications, in addition to a far-stretching and enlightened intellect, must ever be a pillar to the state in which he lives, for he will uphold its integrity, and without such men no. nation can 7 be truly great. As the chosen companion of such a man, is it possible, then, that an English woman born to the same rank in so- ciety, should blush to achnowledge herself a tradesman’s wife? Nor is thisall. It is not the bare acknowledgment that she is so, which can in any way be made to answer the demands of duty, but a perfect willingness to adapt herself in ev ery respect to her situation, so as to answer its various requirements to the satisfaction of all around her. And here the sisters who have been separated so widely from their brothers in the formation of their social and do- mestic habits, are found so often and so lamentably at fault ; not always because they are unwilling to do what duty may require, but because from having early imbibed false notions of what is really honourable, and really degrading, they do their duty, if at all, in a troubled, fretful, and dis- contented spirit, as much at variance with what a husband would naturally desire in the companion of his home, as with what ought to be exhibited as the graces of the Christian character. | ie POSITION IN SOCIETY. 161 Yet what can be expected of such wives, for they have their sickly sensibilities arising out of the false position they have held, and for which they have been training ; they have the romance engendered by indolence and light read- ing ; they have the love of self, which personal indulgence has strengthened into a habit; they have their delicate constitutions, and their thousand ailments—they have all - these to contend with, and all operating powerfully against the cheerful performance of the new duties in which they are involved. 7 Who can have witnessed the situation of such women in their married state, without longing to awaken the whole sisterhood to a different estimate of duty, and of happiness ? Who can have observed their feeble striving after nobler effort, when too late to attain the power of making it to any useful purpose—the spirit broken, the health impaired, the beauty and vivacity of youth all gone ; the few accom- plishments upon which their time was wasted, forgotten, or remembered only as a dream; the wish without the hope to do better for the future, than has been done for the past 5 the failing of pecuniary means, resources gradually dimin- ishing in proportion to the increase of demand—-sickness, servants, children and their education, all requiring more and more—who that has ever looked upon all this, and there are not a few amongst the boasted homes of England where the reality of this picture might be found, would not yearn with aching heart over so lamentable a waste of good feeling and intention, arising solely out of the early, but wrong bias of the female mind with regard to common things ? : But let us not despair. Where ignorance and not per- verseness constitutes the foundation of any prevailing evil, the whole may easily be remedied. Let us look then again 162 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. mR at the constitution of English society, at the vast propor- tion of good which is effected by the middle classes, at the mass of intellect it comprehends, at the genius by which it is adorned, at the influence it commands, at the dignity with which it is invested by the state, and last, but not least, at its independence ; for if, on the one hand, it claims exemption from the necessary hardships and restrictions of the poor, on the other, it is equally privileged in its exemp- tion from the arbitrary requirements of exalted rank. It is unquestionably one of the great advantages of be- ing born to this station, that we are comparatively free to think and act for ourselves; that our heritage is one of liberty, with the rational enjoyment of which no one has a right to interfere. We have our intellectual privileges too, and leisure for the cultivation of the mind; our social meetings, where we dare to speak the honest feelings of the heart, no man being able to make us afraid; our hos- pitality unshackled by the cold formalities of rank; our homes supplied with every comfort, and it may be, adorned with elegance; our fire-side pleasures uninterrupted ; our ingatherings of domestic joy sacred to those who dwell be- neath the same protecting roof; and no interference with — our sentiments, or our religion, but each one left to follow out the purpose of a merciful Creator, by choosing his bible and his conscience as his only guide. — And what could any reasonable woman wish for more ? Or having found herself a member of a community thus constituted, why should she reject its noble privileges, for— the sake of any feeble hold she may obtain of such as be- Jong more properly to another, and a higher sphere 2 I have already stated, in an earlier portion of this work, that true dignity can only be maintained by adaptation to our circumstances, whatever they may be; thus there can POSITION IN SOCIETY. 163 be no dignity in assuming what does not belong to our ac- tual position in society; though many temptations to fall into this error are placed in the way of women in general. When, for instance, the wife of arespectable tradesman is associated with persons of rank in the duties of private or public charity, she is frequently treated with a degree of kindness and freedom, which, if not on her guard against the fascinating manners of that class of society, might easi- ly beguile her into the belief that no real difference of rank was felt to exist. But just in proportion as she would her- self desire to be affable and kind to those beneath her, without such kindness being presumed upon as an evidence of equality; so it often happens that ladies of rank do really enjoy a certain degree of friendly and social inter- course with women of good sense occupying a lower sta- tion, when at the same time they would shrink away repel- led by the least symptom of the difference of rank being forgotten by the inferior party. It is the instinct of natural delicacy then which leads _us rather to withdraw our familiarity, than to have it with- ‘drawn from; and if thus sensible of what is her proper sphere, and scrupulous to observe its limits, a right-minded woman need never be made to feel that she is not respect- ed; although the moment she steps beyond the boundary of that sphere, the true dignity. of ber character will be gone. Nor is this the case with her posi ion in society alone. All misapprehensions about herself, such as supposing she +s beautiful when she is not, or highly gifted when no evi- dence of talent appears, or important when she has no in- fluence—all these mistakes are calculated to deprive a wo- man of that dignity which is the inalienable possession of all who fill with perfect propriety their appointed place. ee 164 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. It is scarcely necessary in the present state of society to point out, on the other hand, the loss of character and influence oceasioned by living below our station; for if in some individual minds there is an inherent tendency to sink and grovel in their own sphere, or to be servile and cring- ing to those above them; such a propensity forms so rare an exception to the general character of the times in which we live, as scarcely to need any further comment, more especially as such a disposition is exposed by its own folly to that contempt which constitutes its proper punishment. It is, however, deeply to be regretted, that often where this tendency is not inherent, nor consequently a part of zedividual character, it has in too many instances been in- duced by the severe and constant pressure of pecuniary difficulties, rendering it an act of necessity, rather than of choice, that the favour of the distinguished or the wealthy should be sought, and their patronage obtained, as the only means of ensuring success, and sometimes as the only hope of preserving a helpless family from want or ruin. Pitiable as this situation may be, and frequent as there is every reason to fear it is, much may be done in cases of this kind to keep up the moral dignity of a husband and a family, by the influence of a high-principled wife, who will make it the study of her life to prove, that it is not in the power of circumstance to degrade an upright and indepen- dent mind. If then it is a duty of paramount importance for a wife to ascertain what is her exact position in society, and to en- deavour to adapt herself to it wherever it may be; ‘her next duty is to consider well the manner of doing this. We can all feel, in the case of our servants and dependents, the vast difference there is between a willing and an un- willing service. How striking then must be this difference, POSITION IN SOCIETY. 165 where all the social affections, and the best feelings of the heart, are implicated, as they must be, in the conduct of a wife! I can think of no more appropriate word by which to describe the manner in which her duties ought to be per- formed, than the homely phraseology 'we use, when we speak of things being done heartily ; for it is precisely in this way that she may most effectually prove to her hus- band how entirely she considers her destiny, with all its hopes, and all its anxieties, to be identified with his. As a mere matter of policy, too, nothing can be more likely to ensure the happiest results, since whatever we do hearé- aly, produces in one sense its own reward, by stimulating into healthy activity the various powers of the mind and body, and thus exciting a degree of energy and cheerful- ness, alike calculated to enhance the pleasure of success, or to support under the trial of disappointment. While on the other hand, a shrinking, reluctant, halfish way of fall- ing in with the requirements of duty, by perpetuating the sensation of self-sacrifice, and dragging out each indivi- dual effort into a lingering and painful struggle, is not more likely to produce the most unfavourable impression upon the minds of those with whom we are associated, than to weary out our own inclination to do right, at the same time that it effectually destroys our happiness and our peace of mind. I have thus far, in relation to position in society, spoken only of cases in which the wife may be lable to feel that her situation is a humiliating one, and I have been compel- led to do this at some length—from the fact already noticed, of the sisters in families connected with business, being generally so far in advance of their brothers, not only as regards their notions of what is suitable or becoming to 8* 166 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. themselves, but also the habits they have cultivated of re- finement and personal indulgence, as to render it scarcely possible for them to marry in the same sphere of life, with- out having much to endure before they can enter with full purpose of heart into all the requirements of their new sit- uation. But if cases of this kind constitute the majority of those which fall under our notice, we must not forget that in English society, it is the privilege of many persons in the middle ranks to be placed in circumstances of affluence and. ease, where the luxuries of life, and even its elegancies, may properly beenjoyed. And if the first aspect of such a lot should present the idea of greater personal indulgence be- ing its lawful accompaniment; on the other hand, the seri- ous and reflecting mind must be struck with the important fact, that in proportion to more extensive means of enjoy- ment, must be a wider influence, and a greater amount of responsibility. To use this influence aright, and to render to her con- Science a Strict account of these responsibilities, will be no light undertaking to the English wife; and as we live, hap- pily for us, in a country where channels are perpetually opened for our benevolence, and opportunities perpetually offered for our efforts to do good, we cannot if we would rest satisfied with the plea, that our disposition towards use- fulness meets with no field for its development. It so happens, however, that the same position in society which presents such facilities for the exercise of better feel- ing, presents also innumerable temptations to the gratifica- tion of female vanity, indolence, and self-indulgence, with all the evils which commonly follow in their train. The very title of this chapter—* Position in Society” -—-where it conveys an idea of wealth and influence, never fails to con- POSITION IN SOCIETY. 167 jure up a host of enemies to simple Christian duty, some of which are so deceptive and insidious, as effectually to escape detection, until their magnitude, as plants of evil growth, becomes a cause of just alarm. The great facility with which the elegancies and luxu- ries of life are now obtained, and the general competition which prevails throughout society with regard to dress, fur- niture, and style of living, present to a vain and unenlight- ened woman, an almost irresistible temptation to plunge into » that vortex of extravagance, display, and worldly-mind- edness, in which I believe a greater amount of good inten- tion has been lost, than by the direct assault of enemies ap- parently more powerful. Again, the indolence almost necessarily induced by the enjoyment to a great extent of the luxuries of life—how often is this foe to health aud cheerfulness dressed up in the cloak of charity, and made to assume the character of kind- ness to the poor, in offering them employment. Not that I would be guilty of endeavouring to divert from so neces- sitous a channel the proper exercise of real charity; but, at the same time that we advocate the cause of the poor, let us call things by their proper names; and if we employ more servants than are necessary, or send out our work to be done by those who need the utmost amount of what we give for doing it, let us not take advantage of this disposi- tion of our affairs, to spend the time which remains upon ~ our hands in idleness; but let us rather employ, in a higher sphere of usefulness, those faculties of mind, and those ad- vantages of education, the free exercise of which consti- tutes one of the greatest privileges of an exalted station. The same temptations which spread the snare of indo- lence around the feet of the unwary, are equally potent in their power to beguile into habits of self-indulgence. And 168 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. here the fancied or real delicacy of constitution which seems in the present day to be the birthright of Englishwomen, with all that spectral host of nervous maladies, which so often paralyze their energies, and defeat their efforts to do good—here, in this most privileged of all positions of hu- man life, most frequently assail the female frame, so as often | to reduce their pitiable victim to a mere nonentity as re- gards one great end of her existence—usefulness to her fellow-creatures. - Far be it from me to speak with unkindness or want” of sympathy of those maladies of mind and body, which, under the general head of nervous disorders, I believe to constitute some of the greatest miseries which “ flesh is heir to.”” But having never found them‘to exist to any seri- ous extent where constant occupation of head and hand, and healthful bodily exercise, were kept up with vigorous and unremitting effort ; I feel the more anxious that Eng- lish wives should not create for themselves, out of their habits of personal indulgence, so formidable an enemy to their own enjoyment, and to the beneficial influence which, as Christian women, they are capable of exercising to an almost incalculable extent. ne I feel anxious also, that some pictures, too frequently witnessed by us all, should never be realized in their ex- perience—pictures in which a sickly, helpless, desponding wife, forms the centre of a group of neglected children, whose boisterous mirth she is little able to endure, and whose numerous wants, all unrestrained, remind her every moment with fresh pain, of her inability to gratify them. That a woman thus situated, is, under existing circum- stances, more to be pitied than blamed, we should be want- ing in common feeling to deny; but in comparing her situation with that of a healthy, active, cheerful-spirited ee a ee ge pth ie Oe ee ee oa a ye 2 = pa 5 a ay x 4 POSITION IN SOCIETY. 169 wife, prompt to answer every claim, and happy in the discharge of every duty; and when we see how such a woman, merely by the exercise of moral power, and often without the advantages of any extraordinary intellectual gifts, can become the living principle of activity, order, and cheerfulness in her own family, the adviser whom all con- sult, the comforter to whom all repair, and the support upon whom all depend, happy in herself, and diffusing happiness around her—oh how we long that those dispo- stions, and those habits, both of mind. and. body, should be cultivated in early youth, which would be most likely to ensure such blessed results as the experience of riper years ! Much of this habitual cheerfulness, and this willing submission to the requirements of duty, is to be attained by the proper regulation of our aims with regard to com- mon things; but especially by having chosen a right standard of excellence for every thing we do. For want of aiming at the right thing, the whole course of human life, which might be so richly diversified with enjoyment of various kinds, is often converted into a long, fruitless, and wearisome struggle, first to attain a happiness which is never found, and then to escape a misery which too surely pursues its mistaken victim. The married woman cannot, then, too frequently ask herself, “ What is it which constitutes the object of my greatest earthly desire ? and at what standard do J really aim 2’? Nor let us deceive ourselves either in asking, or in answering, these questions; for if it be essential to integrity that we should be sincere with others, it isno less so that we should be sincere with ourselves. — If then we are weak enough to aim at being the centre of a brilliant circle, let us not pretend that we court noto- 170 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. riety for the purpose of extending our influence, and through that, our means of doing good. If we aim at surpassing our neighbours in the richness of ‘our furniture, the splendour of our entertainments, and the costliness of our dress, let us not deceive ourselves into the belief, that it is for the sake of encouraging the manufactures, and the people of our own country. If we aim at taking the lead in affairs of moment, and occupying the first place amongst those with whom we associate, let us not do this under the plea of being forced into a conspicuous situation against our will, incompliance with the wish of others, and under | the fear of giving them offence. Let us, I repeat, be honest with ourselves, for this is our only chance of ever arriving at any satisfactory conclusion, or attaining nil de- sirable end. ed, And if we would ascertain with certainty what is “the actual standard of excellence which in idea we set-up for ourselves, for all persons whether they know it or not, have such a standard, we have only to ascertain to what par- ticular purpose our thoughts and actions most uniformly tend. If the most brilliant and striking characters are those which we consider most enviable, we may easily de- tect in ourselves a prevailing endeavour, in what we say, or do, to produce an impression, and consequently to render ourselves conspicuous, than which, nothing can be more out of keeping with the right position of a married woman, nor more likely to render her, at the summit of her wishes, a mark for envy, and all uncharitableness.. - But a far more frequent, and more extensively prevail- ing standard of excellence, is that which consists in giv ing the best dinners, exhibiting the most costly Fists being dressed in the newest fashion, and making every entertain- ment go off in the most successful manner. How many POSITION IN SOCIETY. 171 heads and hearts are made to ache by this ambition, it — must be left for the private history of every family to re- cord. What sleepless nights, what days of toil, what tor- turing anxieties, what envyings, what disputes, what back- bitings, and what bitter disappointments, arise out of this very cause, must be left for the same record to disclose. And if inthe opposite scale we would weigh the happiness enjoyed, the good imparted, or the evil overcome, by the operation of the same agency, we behold a blank ; for let the measure of success be what it may, there is no extreme of excellence to which this ambition leads, but. it may be exceeded by a neighbour, or perhaps a friend ; and where wealth can purchase al] that we aspire to, we must ever be liable to the mortifying chance of being compelled to yield precedence to the ignorant and the vulgar-minded. Nothing, in fact, can be more vulgar, or more in ac- cordance with the lowest grade of feeling, than an ambi- tion of this kind. Not only is it low in its own nature, but low in all the calculations it calls into exercise, and in all the associations, it draws along withit. Yet, who shall dethrone this monster from its place in the hearts of Eng- lish wives, where it gives the law to private conduct, levies a tax upon industry, monopolizes pecuniary profit, makes itself the arbiter in cases of difficulty or doubt, rules the destiny of families, and finally gives thg tone to public feeling, and consequently the bias to national character ? I ask again, who shall dethrone this monster? Per- haps there would be little weight attached to my assertion, if I were to say that it is within the sphere of woman’s in- fluence to do this; that it rests with the wives of England to choose whether they will go on to estimate their position in society by the cost of their furniture, and the brilliance of 172 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. their entertainments; or, by the moral and intellectual character of their social intercourse, by the high principle which regulates their actions, and by the domestic happi- ness to be found within their homes. So long as we esteem those we meet with in society, according to the fashion of their dress, the richness of — their ornaments, or the style in which they live, it is a mockery of words to say that our standard of excellence does not consist in that which money can purchase, or a vain and vulgar ambition attain. And so long as we feel cast down, disappointed, and distressed at being outshone in these outward embellishments, it is a certain proof that we are not attaching supreme importance to such as adorn the mind. I am fully aware, in writing on this subject, that lam but lifting a feeble voice against the giant-force of popular feeling ; that the state of our country, presenting an almost universal tendency towards an excess of civilization, added to the improvement in our manufactures, and the facility with which every kind of luxury is now obtained, are causes perpetually operating upon the great mass of the people, so asto urge them on to a state of eager competi- tion in the display of all which money can procure; and that this competition is highly applauded by many, as be- neficial to the nation at large, and especially so when that nation is considered merely as a mass of instrumentality, operating upon what is purely material. But I am aware also, that this very cause, operating SO widely and so powerfully as it does, ought to furnish the impetus of a new movement in society, by which the intellectual and the spiritual, shall, by a fresh effort, beroused to its proper elevation above the material ; and this necessary and truly noble effort, I must again POSITION IN SOCIETY. 173 repeat, it isin the power of the wives of England to make. Nor would this great movement in reality be so difficult to effect, as we might be led to suppose from looking only at the surface of society, and observing the multiplicity of instances in which a false standard of excellence is estab- lished. We are sometimes too much influenced in our opinions, as well as too muchdiscouraged in our endeavours to do good, by a superficial observation of the general state of things in social life; for there is often an under- current of feeling towards what is just and good, at work in the minds of those, who, from being deficient in the moral power to act upon their own convictions, fal! in with the superficial tide, and go along with the stream, against their better judgment, if not against their real inclinations. Thus, in a more close and intimate acquaintance with the world, we find, to our frequent satisfaction, that a com- bination of intellectual superiority and moral worth, is not in reality so lightly esteemed as at first we had supposed ; that the weak and the vain, who spend their lives in striv- ing after that which truly profiteth not, are dissatisfied and weary with their own fruitless efforts, and that others a lit- tle more gifted with understanding, and enlightened by juster.views, though engaged in the same unprofitable strug- gle, would be more than glad of any thing that would as- sist them to escape from their grovelling anxieties, and low entanglements, so as in an open and decided manner to de- clare themselves on the side of what is intrinsically good, and consequently worthy of their utmost endeavours to at- tain. Thus we find too, in spite of popular-prejudice against a simple dress, or a homely way of living, that respect- ability, and genuine worth of character are able not only Nh ‘ : = ts) 2 ey Saha pees Be Tanks pr WU A ners iy 8 sea Sa ese rn 3c eat Ng Ran afar ae ech LBS) KORRES RAE LF bes wpe: a ee 2 vs ; re 174 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. to give dignity to. any position in society, but also to com- mand universal respect from others; and that, while few are bold enough to imitate, there is no small proportion of ~ the community who secretly wish they were like those noble-minded individuals, who dare to aim at a true stand- ard of excellence, in the formation of their own eae. and the general conduct of their families. a5) Shall we then go on in the same way, forcing gana es to be conten pile, and despising the bondage to which we submit? It is true, the effort necessary to be made, which the state of the times, and the satisfaction of our consciences, alike require of us, is hard for any single individual. But let us stand by each other in this great and noble cause. Let the strong endeavour to encourage and sustain the weak; and let us prove, for the benefit of succeeding generations, how much may be done for the happiness of our homes, and the good of our country, by — being satished with the position in which Providence has placed us, and by endeavouring to adorn that position with the lasting embellishments oyna belong to an en- lightened understanding, a well-regulated mind, and a Medved: sincere, and faithful heart. ? Our standard of excellence will then be no longer found in the most splendid jewelry, or the costliest plate ; for in all these the vulgar and the ignorant may easily attain pre-eminence; but in the warmest welcome, the. kindest service, the best-regulated household, the strictest judgment of ourselves, the most beneficial influence, the highest hopes for futurity, and the largest amount of do- _ mestic and social happiness which it is ever 8 sahara to the families of earth to enjoy. 3 It is needless to say that all these pabslicheiens to life may be ensured without regard to poisition in society ; DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 175 and ifsuch were made the universal standard of excellence amongst the wives of England, much, if not all, the suffering which prevails wherever happiness is made to consist in what money can procure, would cease to be found within our homes; while, rising thus above our circumstances, we should no longer be subject in our hopes and fears to the fluctuations of commerce, or the uncertainty of a position depending solely upon its pecuni- ary advantages. We should then feel to be resting on a sure foundation, just In proportion as our standard was faithfully upheld. I do not say that we should be free from troubles, for such are the lot of all; but that single wide-spreading source of anxiety, which from its vastness appears in the present day to swallow up all others—the anxiety to attain a position higher than our own proper sphere, would then vanish from our land; and with it _ such a host of grievances, that in contemplating so blessed achange in our domestic and social condition, I cannot but again entreat the wives of England to think of these things, and finally to unite together in one firm determina- tion to establish a new and a better standard by which to estimate their position in society. CHAPTER > LX. DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. _ Ctosety connected with the subject already dwelt upon, is that of domestic management; since whatever standard we choose, and whatever principles we adopt as our rule of action, will develope themselves in the system we pur- sue with regard to the conduct of our domestic affairs. 176 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. If, therefore, to appear well with the world according to the popular standard, be our supreme desire, the tendency of our domestic regulations will be to make, before our friends and associates, the greatest possible display of what is costly and elegant in our furniture and style of living; while, on the other hand, if our aim be to ensure the orci est amount of happiness to ourselves and to those around | us, we shall have a widely-different task to pursue; and it is to the latter purpose only that I propose devoting this chapter, as the former could be better effected by consult- ing the upholsterer, the silversmith, or the jeweller. ; Leaving to individuals thus qualified the important of- : fice of deciding what is according to the latest fashion, and which article is most approved in circles of distinction, we must turn our attention to a study of a totally different de- scription ; and if at first it should appear more difficult and complicated, it will have the merit of becoming every day more simple and more clear; or if it should seem to in- volve by necessity a certain degree of suffering and self- denial, it will have the still higher merit of resulting i in ul+— timate happiness ; while the system of domestic manage- ment above alluded to, though in the outset full of promises of indulgence and pleasure, is certain to involve in greater and deeper perplexity the longer it is pursued, and see to issue in vexation and disappointment. ‘a It is, then, the way to make others happy, ‘and conse- quently to be happy ourselves, which I am about to recom- mend ; and if, in doing this I am compelled to enter into the minute and homely details of woman’s daily life, I must claim the forbearance of the reader on the plea that no act can be so trifling as not to be ennobled by a great or a generous motive. Before proceeding farther with this subject, I rail a DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 177 dress one word to the ladies of the present day—to the re- fined and fastidious, who dwell in an atmosphere of taste, and make that their standard of excellence—lest from the freedom of my remarks upon dress and furniture, I should full under their condemnation for undervaluing what is elegant, and wishing to discard what is ornamental ; or, in other words, of being indifferent to the influence of beauty in general, as it may justly be said to refine our feelings, and enhance our enjoyments. Without presuming to refer such readers to a work of my own,* in which they would find that my admira- tion of the beautiful, wherever it may be found, is scarcely inferior to theirs ; I will simply express my conviction, that the exercise of good taste which must ever be in ac- ‘cordance with the principles of beauty, fitness, and har- mony, is by no means confined to the display of what is costly, elaborate, or superb ; but may at all times be suffi- ciently developed in the arrangement of what is simple and appropriate. Indeed, there are nicer distinctions, and more exquisite sensibilities, required in the happy distribution of limited. means, than in the choice and arrangement of the most costly ornaments which money can procure. In ac- cordance with this fact, we almost invariably find writers of fiction bestowing what is gorgeous and elaborate upon “scenes and characters with which the best feelings of the heart have little connection ; while the favourite heroine ‘is universally made conspicuous in her simplicity, and at the same time pre-eminent in her good taste. But in addition to other considerations, it is in the pre- sent day so easy as to be common, and consequently to some extent vulgar, for all persons, both high and low, to adorn ig re hemselves and their houses to the utmost extent of their ¢ The Poetry of Life. 178 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. s pecuniary means ; and they are also enabled to do this with a certain appearance of taste, because to that class of per- _ sons who supply the requisite articles of dress, and furni- yy ture, it has become their study to ascertain what is most approved in the highest circles, as well as what is most - ornamental and Becaming a in itself. And thus individuals 4 who have but little taste themselves, may easily supply their deficiency by consulting what are called the first tradespeople, or those who sa to the highest purchasers. : How much more exquisite, then, must be the good taste, and delicate feeling, of her who has no such assist-— ance to call in; who expends but little money upon the entertainment of her friends, in order that she 1 may see them the oftener, and with a less painful tax upon her house- hold ; but who is still able so to conduct her household arrangements, that while there is no distressing appearance: of excessive preparation to alarm her guests, an aspect of elegance and comfort is thrown over the most familiar thiltes, so asto convey the idea of her family affairs being always conducted in strict accordance with the principles of taste—of that taste which consults the beauty of fitness, and order, and which permits no extravagance or excess to interfere with the perfect harmony of its arrangements, Here, then, we see the value of having made good taste’ one of the studies of early life; for when the cares and. anxieties of a household, added to the actual occupations of the mistress of a family, press upon the sometimes over- burdened wife, she will find little time, and perhaps less inclination, to enter into any abstruse calculations upon these points; and hence we too frequently see amongst married women a deterioration of character in this respect ; for where one single woman is careless and slovenly in her appearance or habits, there is reason to fear we might ides Reins s Tae ® ing DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 179 find many in the married state, who might justly be sus- pected of having lost their regard for those embellishments which depend upon the exercise of good taste. In pursuing the subject of domestic management, we are again struck with the importance of speaking of things ‘by their proper names; for by some strange misnomer, those women have come to be generally called good man- ‘agers, who put their whole souls into the business of pro- viding for the mere bodily exigences of every day; and_thus the more refined, and sometimes the more intellectual, who have no idea how many good princip!es may be exempli- fied in the proper regulation of a household, have imbibed a sort of distaste ror good management, as if it necessarily belonged exclusively to the province of the ignorant, or the vulgar-minded. ts Managers, indeed, those household torments may be, who live perpetually in an element of strife and discord, where no one who valued their own peace would wish to live with them ; but good managers they certainly are not. It is not, therefore, in absolute bustle and activity, nor yet in mere cleanliness, order, and punctuality, that the perfec- tion of domestic management consists ; for where the mem- bers of a household are made to feel that they pay too dearly, by the loss of their peace and comfort, for the cleanliness, order, and punctuality of the mistress, all claim on her part to the merit of good management may be re- linquished. It is most difficult, however, to be sufficiently solicitous about such points of observance, and not irritated by the neglect of them in others. Hence it is often said that ill- tempered servants are the cleanest and most orderly ;_be- c ause the exactness and precision which regulate their con- duct, produce in unenlightened minds, a tendency to exact 180 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. the same from others; and where this is impossible to be effected, produce a petulance and dissatisfaction which ob- tain for them the character of being ill-tempered; while an opposite disposition, careless of order, cleanliness, or punctuality, obtains sometimes with great injustice the merit of being good-tempered, simply because any devia~ tion from these points occasions to such a mind no > diss turbance whatever. _ | It has appeared to me ever since I was - Oaeble i ex= treme annoyance. or extreme enjoyment from such causes, that the perfection of good domestic management required so many excellencies both of head and heart, as to render it a study well worth the attention of the most benevolent and enlightened of human beings. For when we consider the simple fact, that it comprehends—nay, is mainly de- pendent upon the art of giving to every thing which comes within the sphere of practical duty its proper weight, and consequently its due share of relative importance, we see at once that it cannot be within the province of a common or a vulgar mind consistently to do this, more especially as there must not only be the perception to find out, and the judgment to decide upon things generally, but the good feel- ing—and here is the great point—to make that subservient which is properly inferior. Thus all selfish considerations must be set aside, all low calculations, all caprice, all van- ity, all spite. And in how many instances do all these, with a multitude of other enemies to peace and happiness, mix themselves up with what people. persist in calling good management, but which from this lamentable admixture, makes nobody like such management, or wish to be where it prevails! q Perhaps it has occurred to not a few of us to see one of these reputed good managers, bustling about a house from aly. Te Sars. cee 2 Biv We Yee DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 181 one apartment to another, peeping into corners, throwing open closets, emptying drawers, with a countenance which bid defiance at the time to every gentle or kindly feeling ; and calling to one person, despatching another, or enume- rating the misdeeds of a third, with a voice which even in its distant and unintelligible utterance, had the bitter tone of raking up old grievances, and throwing them about like firebrands on every side. And then the bursting forth of _the actual eruption, where such a volcano was perpetually vat work! The fusion of heated and heterogeneous particles into one general mass—the outpouring indiscriminate and vast—the flame, the smoke, the tumult! what is there, I would ask, in the absence of harmless dust, or in the pre- sence of the richest and best concocted food, to repay the wretched family where such a manager presides, for what ‘must be endured through the course of any single day ? No—let me live in peace, is the natural demand of ev- ery human heart; and so far as relates to our cookery, and our carpets, we are happily all able to do this. We must, therefore, settle it in our minds, that whatever excellencies may be attained in the preparation of food, the care of «clothing, the arrangement of furniture, or the general order of rooms, that can never be called good management, which fails to secure peace, and to promote happiness. _ Not that I would undervalue the care of the body, so far as tends to preserve health, and ensure cheerfulness; or, ‘what is still more important, so far as serves to evince a high degree of tenderness and affection, strong evidence of which may sometimes be conveyed through this channel, when no other is open. It is the sepreme importance at- tached to these cares and anxieties, which prevents such a ypystem of management being properly called good, In order to maintain general cheerfulness, and promote 9 ee pie Pee us ihe SB ag oer 182 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. happiness throughout your household, it is essential that you ‘cultivate within your own mind, a feeling of contentment with your home, your servants, and your domestic affairs in general, remembering that nothing which occurs to you in this department is the result of mere chance, but that all your trials, as well as your enjoyments, are appointed by a kind Providence, who knows better than you can know, ex- actly what is ultimately best for you. It is consequently no more a deviation from what you ought to be prepared to expect, that your servants should sometimes do wrong, that your plans should be thwarted by folly and perverseness, or that your house should be old and inconvenient; than that the blossoms in your garden should occasionally be blight- ed, or that a shower should fall at the moment you had — for going out. Yet, to maintain this desirable cheerfulness through all circumstances, is certainly no easy task, unless both health and temper have been carefully attended to before marriage}; for when the former fails, it is but natural that the animal spirits should fail too; and. defects of temper if long in- dulged, so as to have grown into habit, will, inthe general conduct of domestic affairs, be able to infuse a taint of bit- terness into the kindest endeavours, so as effectually to de- feat the best intentions. | How necessary is it, therefore, for all women to have learned to manage themselves, before undertaking the man- agement of a household, for the charge is,both a serious, and a comprehensive one; and however inexperienced the wife may be, however helpless, uncalculating, and unequal to the task, she no sooner takes upon herself the duties of a mistress, than she becomes in a great measure responsible for the welfare of every member of the family over which she presides. And not only is this her situation in the ordi-_ olf tte Low ee “date FS oh Pry ve ree, ae hy id < ¢: : a “ DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 183 nary course of things, but on all extraordinary occasions, she must be at the same post, ever on the alert, prompt to direct, and ready with expedients suited to every emergency that may occur. In case of illness more especially, though the more laborious duties of the sick-room may with propriety be -deputed to others, there can be no excuse for the mistress who does not make it her business to see that proper at- tention is paid to the directions of the doctor, as well as ‘to the ventilation of rooms, and all those other means of alleviating pain, or facilitating recovery, instead of which, inexperienced nurses are apt to substitute notions and nos- trums of their own. But beyond the care of the patient, that of the nurse also devolves upon the mistress of the house, to see that her wants are properly supplied, that a judicious distribution of her time is made, so as to allow of a reasonable portion of rest ; or, if wearied out, to take care that her place is sup- plied, so that none may have to complain of hardship or oppression. And here we may observe by the way, that ‘this kind of care and consideration bestowed upon those who habitually bear the burden of domestic labour, con- Stitutes one of the strongest bonds which can exist between a mistress and her servants; besides rewarding her, in ‘many instances, by a double measure of their gratitude -and their faithfulness. -» If the mistress of the house, as is not unfrequently the ‘case with kind-hearted women, should take charge of the ‘patient herself, it then becomes her duty not to act so en- ‘tirely from the impulse of feeling, as to neglect her own health. I mention this, because there is a kind of romantic “devotion to the duties of the sick-room, more especially where _ the sufferer is an object of interest or affection, which carries 184 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. on the young nurse from one day of solicitude to another, without refreshment, without rest, and without exercise in the open air, until nature being completely exhausted, she herself becomes a source of trouble, and an object of anx- iety and care. By this apparent generosity, the kindest intentions are often frustrated; while the household of such a mistress will necessarily be thrown into alarm and disorder, at the very time when it is the most important that order and quiet should be maintained thoughout. To those who please themselves with the idea that such romantic self-devotion is the extreme of generosity, - it may appear a cold kind of reasoning to advocate the importance of self-preservation, by frequently taking ex- ercise at short intervals in the open air. Yet, J own I am one of those who prefer the kindness which lasts, to that which expends itself in sudden and violent effort; and I would, therefore, strongly urge upon the. wife, not only to attend to such means of prolonging her own usefulness, but to see that the nurse employed under her direction does the same. Nor is it only in such cases as that already pabate 8 that married women are apt to neglect the best means of maintaining cheerfulness, and preserving. health, two bless- ings which they above all other persons have the most reason to estimate highly. Not that I would insinuate an idea of any culpable neglect of the employment of doctors, or the use of medicines. I belive this can scarcely be charg- ed upon the wives of England, as a general fault. . But I have known some women almost entirely neglect all kinds of exercise in the open air, either because they were too busy, or it tired them too much ; or, for that most amiable of all reasons, because their hbsliofile were absent, and they were too dependent to walk alone. And thus, from DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 185 the very excess of their affection, they were satisfied, on a husband’s return, to be weary, listless, dispirited, and alto- gether incapable of adding to his enjoyment, whatever he— happy man that he must be, to be so tenderly beloved !— might add to theirs. ~ But fortunately for the character of woman, and may we not add, for the patience of man, there are happier methods of proving the existence of affection than that which is‘exhibited by the display either of an excessive and imprudent self-devotion, which effectually defeats its own object; or a weak and childish dependence, which is nothing better than a sort of disguised selfishness. In ac- cordance with deeper and more chastened feelings of regard, is that system of careful but quiet watchfulness over the general health of a husband, or a family, which detects every symptom of indisposition, and provides against all unnecessary aggravation of such symptoms by any arrange- ment of domestic affairs which can be made so as to spare an invalid, or prevent the occurrence of illness. I believe that nothing tends more to the increase of those diseases classed in popular phraseology under the head of bilious, which prevails so extensively in the present day, than long fasting, with heavy meals at the close of the day. Where fashion is the root of this evil, it is to be sup- posed that the sufferers have their own reward; at all events, a mere matter of choice, it would be impertinence to interfere with; but in the case of those husbands whose business calls them from home during the greater part of every day, surely something might be done by the wife, to break through this habit, either by supplying them with in- termediate refreshment, or inducing them by persuasion or argument to make some different distribution of their time. _ And where symptoms of indisposition do appear, how a 186 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. beautiful is that display of affection in a wife, who can put aside all her own little ailments for the more important con- sideration of those of a husband; who can bear without a murmur to have her domestic affairs at any moment de- ranged, so as may best suit his feelings or his health; and who can make up her mind with promptness and cheerful- ness, even to accompany him from home, at any sacrifice of her own comfort and convenience. How precious then is the health and the ability to do this, and to do it with en- ergy and perfect good-will—how much more precious than the childish fondness to which allusion has already been made, which would lead her to sit and faint beside him in his illness, or to neglect the exercise necessary for her own health, because, forsooth, she could not walk without him. Nor let it be imagined from the familiar and apparently trifling nature of the instances adduced im relation to the subject of domestic management, that the subject itself is one of little moment. Necessity compels the selection of only a few cases from the mass of evidence which might be brought to prove how many important principkes may be acted upon in the familiar transactions of every day. The woman of naturally restless and irritable temper, for in- stance, who, without controlling her own feelings, would effectually destroy the peace of every member of her household, may, by habits of self-government, and by a kind and disinterested regard for the happiness of those around her, so far restrain the natural impetuosity of her character, as to become a blessing instead of a torment to the household over which she presides ; while the tender and affectionate wife, who would fondly and foolishly waste her strength by incessant watching over a husband or a child, may, by the habit of making impulse subservi- ent to judgment, preserve her health for the service of many DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 187 a future day, and thus render herself, what every married woman ought to be—the support and the comfort of her whole household. We see here, although the instances themselves may appear insignificant, that in these two cases are exemplified the great principles of disinterested kindness, prudence, and self-government. And thus it is with every act that falls within the sphere of female duty. The act itself may be trifling, but the motives by which it is sustained may be such as to do honour to the religion we profess. And we must ever bear in mind, that not only do we honour that religion by engaging in public services on behalf of our fellow-creatures, or for the good of our ownsouls; but by restraining evil tempers and selfish dispositions, in the pri- vacy of our own domestic sphere; and by cherishing for purposes of practical usefulness, those amiable and bene- yolent feelings, which are not only most endearing to our fellow-creatures, but most in accordance with the perfec- tion of the Christian character. In turning our attention again to the practical part of female duty, as connected with domestic management, that important study which refers to the best means of econo- mizing time and money, is forcibly presented to our notice. Having dwelt at considerable length upon the subject of economy of time in a former work,* I shall not repeat the arguments there made use of to show the importance of this great principle of good management; but simply state, that if essential before marriage to the attainment of intellectual or moral good, and to the welfare and comfort of those with whom we are connected; it becomes doubly so when the mistress of a house has not only to economize her own time, but to portion out that of others. * The Daughters of England. 188 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. In this, as in all other cases where good influence is made the foundation of rightly-exercised authority, the married woman must forget that example goes before pre- cept. Whatever then may be the trial to her natural feel- ings, she will, if actuated by this principle, begin the day by rising early; for it is in vain to urge others to do what they see that we have either not the strength, or not the inclination, to do ourselves. Besides which, there is little inducement for servants or other inferior members to rise early, when they know that the business of the day will be delayed by the mistress herself not being ready; while, on the other hand, if prepared to expect that she will be up early herself, there are few who could be so unaccom- modating as to thwart her wishes by not endeavouring to be ready at the appointed time. ec Nor is there any thing depending upon ourselves which. tends more to the proper regulation of the mind, as well as the household, than the habit of rising early—so early as to have time to think, as most persons do in the morning hours, clearly and dispassionately ; when, free from the disturbance of feeling so often excited ‘by contact with others, the mind is at liberty to draw its own conclusions, from a general survey of the actual state of things, un- interrupted by any partial impressions received through the medium of the outward senses. Thus it often happens, that in the early morning we are brought to serious and just conclusions, which we should never have arrived at, were the actual circumstances which gave rise to our re- flections transpiring beneath our notice, or had the per- sons most intimately connected with such circumstances been present during the formation of our Opinions. The morning, then, is the time for reviewing the actions and events of the previous day, and for forming, for that DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 189 which has commenced, a new set of plans, upon the con- victions which such a calm and impartial review is calculat- ed to produce. The morning is the time for gathering our thoughts together, for arranging our resources, and for ask- ing with humble reverence that Divine assistance, without which, we have no right to expect that the coming day will be spent more satisfactorily than the past. Such are the higher advantages derived from habits of early rising, but there are also practical duties to be attend- ed to by all married women, in the commencement of the day, which must beso managed as not to interfere with, or delay, the business of others ; or the end of early rising will be entirely defeated, as regards its good influence upon the general habits of a family. I mention this, because there are some well-intentioned persons, who habitually rise early, and yet are habitually too late for breakfast, wondering not the less every day how it can possibly be that they are so. To such I would venture to hint, that despatch is an excellent thing in what- ever we have to do; and that the habit of trifling is one of the most formidable enemies to good intention in this res- pect, because at the same time that it hinders our practical usefulness, it beguiles us into the belief, that we are actually doing something—nay, even a great deal; yet, look to the end, and nothing is really done. If such persons are unacquainted with the merits of des- patch, or refuse to adopt it as a wiser and better rule, I know of nothing they can do except it be to rise a little earlier, and a little earlier still, until they find that they have exactly proportioned their time to their requirements ; but on no account ought they to allow the breakfast, or the business of the day, to be retarded so as to meet their con- venience. Whatever time they take from sleep is their O* ET ONES BP) ees FY Sa Lea, EER CR 288 58 1 ee eae ee ene Ait ATER E NERS Rs RRR 190 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. own, and they have a right to dispose of it as they please ; but that time can scarcely be called so, which is portioned out to others, especially where it is barely sufficient for the business they are required to do through the course of the day. | : Perhaps it is with us all too frequent a mistake to sup- pose that time is our own, and that the higher our station, and consequently the greater number of persons are subject to our control, the more entirely this is the case. I have already said that the time we take from sleep, may with some justice be called so; but except in a state of exist- ence entirely isolated, and exempt from relative duties, I am not aware how conscientious persons can trifle with time, and not feel that they are encroaching upon the rights of others, to say nothing of the more serious responsibility neglected by the waste of so valuable a talent committed to their trust. : tah aes There is no time perhaps so entirely wasted as that which is spent in waiting for others, because while expec- tation is kept up that each moment will terminate our suspense, we cannot prudently engage in any other occu- pation. If then the mistress of a house by habitual delay of breakfast, keeps as many as four persons waiting half an hour every morning, she is the cause of two valuable hours being wasted to them, which they would most prob- ably have preferred spending in any other way rather than in waiting for her. | It must of course be allowed, that every master and mistress of a family enjoys the right of breakfasting as late as they choose, provided they give directions accor- dingly ; but where there is one in the middle ranks of © society who will order breakfast at ten, there are twenty who will order it at eight, and not be ready before nine. DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 191 It can only be to such deviations from arrangements made by the heads of the family, and understood by all its mem- bers, that the foregoing observations apply. It is a great point in the economy of time, that differ- ent kinds of work should be made to fill up different inter- vals. Hence the great value of having a variety of needlework, knitting, &c.; for besides the astonishing amount which may thus almost imperceptibly be done, a spirit of contentment and cheerfulnessis much more promoted by having the hands constantly employed. Thus if ever the mistress of a house spends what is called the dark hours in idleness, it is a proof that she has either not prop- erly studied the arts of knitting and netting; or that she is a very indifferent workwoman not to be able to pay for the use of candles. Could such persons once be brought to appreciate the really beneficial effects of constant em- ployment upon the mind and temper, could they taste those sweet musings, or enjoy those ingatherings of thought which are carried on while a piece of work is growing beneath their hands, they would never again require urging to those habits of industry which may truly be said to bring with them their own reward. Habitually idle persons are apt to judge of the difficulty of being industrious, by what it costs them to do any thing they may happen to undertake; the movements of a na- turally indolent person being composed of a series of pain- ful exertions, while the activity of an industrious person resembles the motion of a well-regulated machine, which having been once set at work, requires comparatively. little force to keep it going. Itis consequently by making in- dustry a habit, and by no other means, that it can be tho- roughly enjoyed; for if between one occupation and ano- ther, time is allowed for sensations of weariness to be in- 192 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. dulged, or for doubts to be entertained as to what shall be done next, with those who have much to do all such en- deavours to be industrious must. necessarily be irksome, if not absolutely laborious. How pitiable then is the situation of that niece’ wo- man who has never fully realized the true enjoyment of industry, nor the advantages of passing rapidly from one occupation to another, as if it was ‘the business of life to keep doing, rather than to wait to see what was to be done, and to question the necessity of doing it. » Pitiable, indeed, is that woman, because in a well-regulated house- hold, even where the mistress takes no part in the execu- tive business herself, there must. still be a ‘constant over- sight, and constant forethought, accompanied with a variety of calculations, plans, and arrangements, which to an indolent person cannot fail to be irksome in the ex- treme; while to one who has been accustomed ‘to rely upon her own resources in the constant exercise of indus- try, they give a zest and an interest to all the duties of life, and at the same time impart a feeling of contentment and cheerfulness sufficient of itself to render every yest light. | There is no case in which example is more closely con- nected with influence than in this. A company of idle persons can keep each other in countenance to almost any extent; while there are few who cannot be made ashamed of idleness, by having constantly before them an example of industry. Thus where the mistress of a house on extra- ordinary occasions is ever ready to lend assistance herself; where she evinces a decided preference for doing things with her own hand, rather than seeing them left undone; and where it is known that her mind is as quick to per- ceive what is wanted, as her hand is willing to execute it; DOMESTIC MANAGEMENT. 193 such a mistress will seldom have to complain that her ser- vants are idle, or that they cannot be brought to make the necessary effort when extra work has to be done. There is, however, a just medium to be observed be- tween doing too much, and too little, in domestic affairs ; and this point of observance must be regulated entirely by the circumstances of the family, and the number of servants employed. It can never be said that the atmosphere of the kitchen 1s an element in which a refined and intellectual woman ought to live; though the department itself is one which no sensible woman would think it a degradation to overlook. But instead of maintaining a general oversight and arrangement of such affairs, some well-intentioned women plunge head, heart, and hand, into the vortex of culinary operations, thinking, feeling, and doing what would _ -be more appropriately left to their servants. This fault, however, is one which belongs but little to the present times. It was the fault of our grandmothers, and we are endeavouring to improve upon their habits by falling into the opposite extreme, forgetting, in our eager- ness to secure to ourselves personal ease and indulgence, how many good and kind feelings may be brought into exercise by a participation in the practical part of domestic management—how much valuable health, and how much vivacity and cheerfulness, alternating with wholesome and real rest, are purchased by habits of personal activity. But it is impossible to do justice to this subject without entering into it fully, and at considerable length; and having already done this elsewhere,* under the head of “Kindness and Consideration,” I will spare the reader a repetition of my own sentiments upon a subject of such vita] importance to the wives of England. * The Women of England. 194 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. O:H A PTE Res®e ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. Tue general tendency of domestic management should: be, to establish throughout a household the principles of order, justice, and benevolence. In speaking first of order, I would not be sah Inceioa to restrict the meaning of the word to such points of observ- ance as the placing of chairs in a drawing-room, or orna- ments on a mantelpiece. The principle of order in its hap- piest development, has to do with the state of the mind, as well as the personal habits. Thus a due regard to the: general fitness of things, correct calculations as to time’ and means, with a just sense of relative importance, so as to keep the less subservient to the greater, all belong to. the department of order in a well-governed household, and should all be exemplified in the general conduct of the mistress. . There is no surer method of maintaining anise over others, than by showing that. we have Riese to govern. ourselves. Thus a well-ordered mind obtains an influence. in society, which it would be impossible for mere talent, without this regard to order, ever to acquire. All caprice, all hasty or violent expressions, all sudden and extravagant ebullitions of feeling of any kind whatever, exhibited be- fore servants and inferiors, have a tendency to lower the dignity of a mistress, and consequently to weaken her in-. fluence. and perfectly self-possessed, whether she feels so or not; a The mistress of a house should sete appear ree ai ~ ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 195 and if from an accumulation of household disasters, parti- cularly such as mal-occurrences before her guests, the agi- tation of her feelings should be too great for her powers of self-control, she may always find a natural and appropriate outlet for them, by sympathizing with other sufferers in the same calamity, and thus evincing her regard for them, rather than for herself. Nor ought we to class this species of self-discipline with those artificial manners which are assumed merely for the sake of effect. If the same individual who controlled her feelings before her guests, should go out amongst her servants and give full vent to them there, such a case would certainly deserve to be so classed. But the self- control I would gladly recommend, is of a widely different order, extending to a mastery over the feelings, as well as the expressions. In the former case, a lady seated at the head of her table, will sometimes speak in a sharp whisper to a servant, with a countenance in which all the furies might be represented as one; when suddenly turning to her guests, she will address them with the blandest smiles, - even before the cloud has had time to vanish from her brow... In the latter case, the mistress of the house will recollect, that others have been made to suffer perhaps more than herself, and that whatever the cause of vexation or distress may be, it can only be making that distress greater, for her to appear angry or disturbed. By such habits of reflection, and by the mastery of judgment over impulse, she will be able in time, not only to appear calm, but really to feel so; or if there should be just as much ex- - citement as may be agreeably carried off in. condolence with her friends, there will never be sufficient really to destroy either their comfort, or her own peace of mind. In speaking of the beauty of order, would that it were Se eee SPR eS BS el tug Ry Pg eg Seyler Nan Cee cs ANNE So RT ROL Se athe an a ‘ see oe # SA eee E 7 (avers MF Pe 196 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. possible to impress this fact upon the minds of English wives—that there is neither beauty nor order, in making their servants and their domestic affairs in general, the sub- ject of conversation in company. To hear some good la- dies talking, one would really think that servants were a sort of plague sent upon the nation at large, and upon them in particular. To say nothing of the wrong: state of feeling evinced by allowing one of our greatest sources of personal comfort to be habitually regarded as a bane, rather than a blessing, we see here one of those instances in which the laws of order are infringed, by a disregard to the fitness of things; for however interesting our domestic affairs may be to ourselves, it requires but little tact or obser- vation to discover, that they interest no one else ; unless it be our nearest and most intimate friends, whose personal regard to us will induce them to listen with kindness to whatever we describe as being connected with our welfare or hap- piness. | : : Upon the same principle, a history of bodily ailments should never be forced upon visitors ; for as it requires either to be an intimate friend, or a member of the same family, to feel any particular interest in the good or bad practises of servants ; so it requires that our friends should be very tenderly attached to us, to care about our ailments, or even to listen with any real attention when we make them the subject of conversation. In all such cases, it is possible that a third party may be more quick to perceive the real state of things, than the party most concerned; but I own I have often wondered, what the habitual complainer of household and personal grievances could find to induce her to go on, in the averted look, the indifferent answer, and the absent manner of her guests; yet, such is the entire occupation of some minds with subjects of this nature, that ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 197 they are scarcely alive to impressions from any other source ; and perhaps the surest way to prevent our annoyance of others, is to recollect how often, and how much, we have been annoyed in this way ourselves. It is, then, no mean or trifling attainment, for the mis- tress of a house to be thoroughly at home in her own do- mestic affairs ; deeply interested in the character and habits of all the different members of her household, so as to ex- tend over them the care and the solicitude of a mother; and yet before her guests, or in the presence of her friends, to be perfectly disengaged, able to enter into all their causes of anxiety, or hope, and above all, to give an intel- Jectual character, and a moral tendency, to the general tone of the conversation in which she takes a part. With nothing less than this strict regulation of the feelings, as well as the habits, this regard to fitness, and this mainten- ance of order in the subserviency of one thing to another, ought the wives of England to be satisfied ; for it is to them we look for every important bias given to the man- ners and the morals of that class of society, upon which depends so much of the good influence of England as a nation. rs A love of order is as much exemplified by doing any thing at its proper time, as in its appropriate place ; and it rests with the mistress of a house, to see that her own time, _and that of her servants, is judiciously proportioned out. Some mistresses, forgetting this, and unacquainted with the real advantages of order, are in the habit of calling their servants from one occupation to another, choosing extra work for them to do on busy days, crowding a variety of occupations into one short space of time, and then com- plaining that nothing is thoroughly done; while others will put off necessary preparations until so late, that every- Meare Atak heh a ey Wee } Oye) creas Belay alten. RAL Aided are eats’ Sao kaon) I ee Se fe SDRAM oie ae ca ater ni tata ee Den Incarnate casas Mab be cade ck a on ih 198 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. body is flurried and confused, and well if they are not out of temper too. It may possibly have occurred to others, as it has to myself, to be present where, on the occasion of an evening party being expected, all the good things for the entertainment had to be made on the afternoon of the same day. I need hardly add, that when the guests ar- rived, neither mistress nor servants were inva very fit state to go through the ceremonial of a dignified reception. —_- Forethought, then, is a most. essential quality in the mistress of a house, if she wishes to maintain through- out her establishment.the principle of order. Whatever others do, she must think. It is not: possible for order to exist, where many minds are employed in. directing a va- riety of movements,. There must be one presiding intel- lect to guide the whole; and whether the household to be governed belong to a mansion or a cottage, whether the: servants to be directed be many or few, that presiding power must be vested in the mistress, or in some one indi- vidual deputed to act in her stead. - It is from leaving the thinking and contriving part, along with the executive, — to servants, that we see perpetuated so many objectionable and absurd methods of transacting the business of domestic. life; methods handed down from one generation to another, and acted upon sometimes with great inconvenience and equal waste, simply because habit has rendered it a sort of established thing, that whatever is done, should be done in a certain manner ; for servants are a class of people who think but little, and many of them would rather take double pains, and twice the necessary length of time in doing their work the old way, than risk the experiment of a new one, even if it should ever occurto them tomake it. —s_—- It must rest with the mistress, then, to introduce im- provements. and facilitics in the transaction of household es S ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 199 business; and she will be but little fitted for her office who has not studied before her marriage the best way of doing common and familiar things. Whatever her good inten- tions, or even her measure of good sense may be, she will labour under painful disadvantages, and difficulties scarcely to be overcome, by taking up this study for the first time after she has become the mistress of a*house; for all points of failure here, her own servants will be quick to detect, and most probably. not slow to take advantage of. A married woman thus circumstanced, will certainly act most wisely by studiously concealing her own igno- rance; and in order to do this effectually, she must avoid asking foolish questions, at the same time that she watches every thing that is done with careful and quiet scrutiny, so as to learn the how and the why of every trivial act before engaging in it herself, or even venturing a remark upon the manner in which it may be done by others. But essential as knowledge is to good domestic man- agement, we must ever bear in mind that knowledge is not all. . There must be a love of order, a sense of fitness, a quick perception of the appropriateness of time and place, lively impressions of reality and truth, and clear convictions on the subject of relative importance; and in order to the complete qualification of a good wife and mistress, there must - be along with all there, not only a willingness, but a strong determination to act upon such impressions and convictions to the full extent of their power to promote social, domestic, and individual happiness. ‘And if all these requirements are to be plascead under the head of order, we must look for those which are still more serious under that of justice. The word justice has a somewhat startling sound to female ears, and I might perhaps be induced to use a softer oe 200 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. expression, could I find one suited to my purpose; though after all, I fancy we should none of us be much the worse for having the word justice in its simple and imperative strictness, more frequently applied to our relative and social duties. It is, in fact, a good old-fashioned notion, that of doing justice, which has fallen a little too much into disuse ; or perhaps, I ought rather to say, has been dismissed from its place amongst female duties, and considered too exclusively as belonging to points of law and cases of public trial. — 1 am well aware that justice in its highest sense belongs not to creatures frail, short-sighted, arid liable to deception like ourselves ; but that strong sense of truth, and honesty, and individual right, which we naturally include in our’ idea of the love of justice, was surely given us to be exer- cised in our dealings with each other, and in the general conduct of our domestic affairs. This regard to what is just in itself, necessarily including what is due to others, and what is due from them also, is the moral basis upon which all good management depends; for when once this foundation is removed, an inlet is opened for innumerable lower motives, such as selfishness, vanity, caprice, and a host of others of the same unworthy character, to enter and mix themselves up with the conduct of daily life. We cannot. therefore be too studious to detect, or too prompt to overcome, these enemies to right feeling and to duty; and I believe we shall be best enabled to do this, with the Divine blessing upon our endeavours, by a habit of constantly stretching our ideas to the broad and com- prehensive nature of justice in general—justice in its sim- plicity and its strictness, without deterioration from the influence of custom, and without those qualifications which - owe their existence to an artificial state of society. Imbued with a strong sense of justice, the kind and - (Gc oe ew ee et OY nee, Pi eee ee ee A SO i a See Or ae te, SS Lee J 4 : , pe wr ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 201 considerate mistress will see that every member of her household has some rights which others ought not to be al- lowed to infringe; and if she be attentive to the welfare of her family, she will find sufficient exercise for her love of jus- tice in the settlement of all differences which may arise out of the clashing of individual interests. Even the most insignificant member of such a family, that unfortunate attached to almost all. establishments under the name of “the boy,” all, from him down to the very animals, will have their rights, and such rights can only be consistently maintained by the authority of one presiding mind. Thus the abuse or the neglect of domestic animals can never prevail to any great extent, where the mistress does her duty ; for though servants will sometimes lavish their caresses upon such creatures, they are for the most part careless about their actual wants; and unless properly in- structed, and even looked after in this respect, they will sometimes be absolutely cruel. The mistress of a house may thus have an opportunity of teaching her servants, what they possibly will have had no means of learning at home, that these are creatures committed to our care by their Creator and ours, and that we have no more right to practise cruelty upon them,t han we have to disobey the righteous law of God in any other respect. Regarding the important subject of economy in its character of a great moral obligation, rather than simply as an individual benefit, I should place it under the head of justice; and Ido this in the humble hope, that when so classed, it may obtain a greater share of serious atten- tion than could be desired, were the subject to be consid- ered, the mere act ofsaving money. True economy, and that which alone deserves our regard as a study, 1 have already described as consisting in doing the greatest amount of good 202 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — with the smallest pecuniary means—not only good to the poor, and to society in general, but good to the family of which we form a part; and of course this study includes the prevention of absolute waste in any department what- ever. Such a system of economy, I consider to be entire- ly distinct from the mere act of saving money; except so far as that all economical persons will endeavour to save money to a certain extent, in order that they or their fami- lies may not be dependent upon others. . A sense of jus- tice will also induce them to make a suitable provision for those under their care, without doing which they have certainly no right to be generous. Every thing necessary to the practice of this kind of equitable economy, is consequently necessary to the exer- cise of justice. We shall therefore turn our attention the more seriously to a few hints on the most common- place of all subjects—that of saving. Nor let the refined and fastidious young wife, retaining all her boarding-school contempt for such homely house- hold virtues, dismiss the subject with the hasty conclusion, that such studies are only for the vulgar or the low. There are those who could tell her, that there is a vulgarity in extravagance, of which the really well-bred are seldom guilty ; and that no persons are so much addicted to the lavish and indiscriminate waste of money, as those who have been raised from low birth and ip eri to — means. But it is impossible to believe that the enuseniialee, honest-hearted, upright women, who form the majority of English wives, should deceive themselves by notions so ab- surd as these; and I only wish it were possible to embody in the present work, the united evidence of such women in favour of the plans they have themselves found most con- ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 203 ducive to the promotion of comfort and economy com- bined. I place these two words together, because that can never be called good management, which has not reference to both, or which extracts from the one for the purpose of adding to the other ; that can never be called good man- agement, where economy takes precedence of comfort, ex- cept only in cases of debt, where comfort ought unques- tionably to give place to honesty ; and still less can that be called good management where comfort is the only con- sideration, because the higher consideration of justice must then be neglected. — In order to carry out the principle of justice in her household transactions, it is highly important that the mis- tress of a family should make herself thoroughly acquainted with the prices and qualities of all common and familiar things, that she may thus be enabled to pay equitably for every thing brought into her house. There are opportuni- ties of observing or violating the laws of justice, which few mistresses have the energy, and still fewer the inclination, to look after themselves; and they are consequently left for the most part to servants and tradespeople to adjust as they think proper, each regarding their own interest and ‘convenience, as it is perfectly natural that they should. Servants of course prefer having every article of household ‘consumption brought to the door; and in large towns this is casily managed by small traders in such articles, who can regulate their prices as they think proper, without the cognizance of the mistress of the house, and sometimes without any direct reference to what is the real marketable value of their property. That too much is trusted to inte- rested parties in such cases as these, must be clear to the meanest understanding; for we all know the tendency 204 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. there is in human nature, to use for selfish purposes, the power of doing what is not strictly right, and especially where this can be done without fear of detection. In the “ Daughters of England” I have strongly re- commended that young women should cultivate habits of attention to the public as well as the private affairs of the country in which they live, so far as to obtain a general knowledge of its laws and institutions, and of the great po- litical movements taking place around them. The abuse of such knowledge is to make it the basis of party feeling and political animosity ; but its proper and legitimate use is that which enables respectable, influential, and patriotic women, to carry out the views of an enlightened legislature through those minor channels which form the. connection between public and private life, andthe right direction of which is of the utmost importance to the welfare of the country in general. How little do women, poring over their worsted work, sometimes think of these things! How little do they re- flect, that not only is it a part of their duty to govern their household well, but so to govern it, that those wise and be- nevolent enactments designed for the good of the nation at large, which it has been put into the hearts of our rulers to make, may not be frustrated for want of their prompt and willing concurrence.. When once this idea has been fully impressed upon the mind of woman, she will not—she can- not think it a degradation to use every personal effort for the correction of public abuses, rather than it should be said, that while the legislature of England .evinced the utmost solicitude for the happiness of the people, there was not pat- riotism enough amongst her women to assist in promoting the general good. But to return to particular instances of domestic econo- Pe eM URN Mar TY AR a Payh eWOPUUN Salen Ty Nth oO ae ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 205 my. The habit of making what are called ‘ cheap bargains,’ does not appear to me worthy of being classed under this head ; because the principle of economy would inspire a wish to pay an equitable and fair price for a good article, rather than a low price for a poor one; and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, articles offered for sale as being remark- ably cheap, are of very inferior quality. But above all other things to be guarded against in making bargains, is that of taking advantage of the poor. It is a cruelsystem carried on by the world, and one against which woman, with her boasted kindness of heart, ought especially to set her face —that of first ascertaining the po- sition, or degree of necessity of the party we deal with, and then offering a price accordingly. Yet how often do we hear the expression—* I get it done so well, and so cheap- ly ; for poor things, they are in such distress, they are glad to do it at any price!” And a pitiful sight it is to see the plain work, and fine work too, that is done upon such terms. A pitiful thing it is to think of the number of hours which must have been spent, perhaps in the endurance of hunger and cold, before _ the scanty pittance was earned ; and to compare this with the golden sums so willingly’expended at some fashionable milliner’s, where, because the lady of the house is not in want, the kind-hearted purchaser would be sorry to insult her feelings by offering less. The same principle applies to ready payment of the poor. It is a mockery of words to tell them, you have no change. The poor know perfectly well that change is to be had; and when you tell them to call again in a few days, or when it is more convenient to attend to them, per- haps the disappointed applicant goes sorrowing home, to ‘meet the eager glance ofa parent, or child, who has been 10 206 | THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. all day calculating upon some article of food or clothing, © which that little payment was expected to have —— them with the means of procuring. ode oe I am aware that disappointments of this ‘cin are some- _ times unavoidable; but I appeal to: my countrywomen, whether as a mere-matter of convenience, the poor ought to be sent empty away, when the rich and the independent, because of their greater influence, and the higher respect in which they are held, are paid ina prompt and willing man- ner, nothing being said either about inconvenience or dif- ficulty. Lg tinals To all persons, baiveaits whether high or ‘ong ere or poor, it is highly important to good management that fre- quent payments should be made. Weekly payment of ail tradespeople is the best, because then neither party has time to forget what has been bought, and they are conse- — quently less likely to make mistakes in their final settle- ment. As acheck upon such mistakes in the making up of accounts, it is indispensable that all bills should be kept for a year at least after their payment; and though this practice may at first. appear useless and troublesome, am- ple satisfaction will eventually be’ derived by exemption from all that uncomfortable feeling which arises from un- certainty in this respect—from: an idea of seis ‘either ~ injured another, or being injured one’s self... face fpeaiox There is a foolish habit to which many shopkeepers : are addicted, of persuading married women, and: particularly the young and inexperienced, to purchase on credit. When they see a lady evidently tempted, looking at an article again and again, and repeatedly asking the price as if in the hope each time of finding it less, it is perfectly natural in them, if they know the respectability of their customer, to fall in with her weakness, and, accommodating them- ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 207 selves to her inadequate means, to offer the tempting article to be paid for on some distant day. It is still more foolish, therefore, in the woman who goes unprovided for such a purchase, to trust herself so far as to trifle with temptation ; but the extreme of her folly, is to allow herself to be pre- vailed upon, at last, to take what she cannot pay for, and probably does not really want. It is often stated by imprudent women, as an excuse for buying what they do not need, that it was “so extremely cheap ;”’ but that must always be a dear article to us which we have no use for; and the money which such things would cost must, in the end, prove more valuable than the cheapest goods which are not necessary, or not calculated to be of use. Married women who love justice to themselves as well as to others, should always keep strict accounts. | Without some evidence of this kind, husbands are sometimes a little incredulous, and such a proof of the right distribution of her means, no one need hesitate to show. While, how- ever, the husband is thus enabled to see for himself what has been the actual expenditure, it must not be supposed that he is qualified to judge in all cases of the necessity for such expenditure being made. The wife alone can do this; and if she enjoys that inestimable blessing to a married wo- man—her husband’s confidence, he will be satisfied that all the rest is right, whether he understands it or not. There is no doubt if he was consulted about every purchase to be made, he would think in some instances that the article could be done without ;.while in others, he would probably choose a far more expensive one than was necessary. A wise and prudent woman will therefore so manage these affairs, as to obtain the privilege of having them left en- tirely to her judgment. Ea Atm PRISE etn evens POAT cena ey RUMEN PAG oar REE Pay eT Nat ET ODS ELAN ONRR Se tr ae 208 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. She will find too, that economy does not consist so much in buying little, as in buying suitably; for a house or a wardrobe may be so scantily supplied, that each article has to do the service of many, and is thus prematurely worn out, or effectually destroyed, by being put to uses for which it never was designed. The poor girl who has but a thin pair of shoes, and no money to buy stronger, must unavoid- ably destroy them in one day’s journey; when, had ‘they been used only for proper purposes, they might have lasted ayear. And itis the same with a scantily furnished kitchen. Absolute waste to a very great extent must necessarily be the consequence of having but few instruments for daily use, and making them serve every purpose as occasion may require. With the best supply of kitchen utensils, how- ever, their selection and use ought not to be left entirely to servants. The mistress herself must sometimes direct in this department, unless she would see the amount of her bills alarmingly increased by the habit most servants have, of snatching up what is nearest to them, rather nie think- ing what is fittest to be used. | The same rule applies to household linen, of which an ample supply, given out with regularity and judgment, will always be found most- economical in the end. But on no © account whatever let any deficiency in this department, or “in that of your kitchen, be supplied by borrowing. There is no occasion for the defects of your establishment to be made known to others, and, except in cases of extraordi- nary emergency, if you cannot afford to purchase what is wanted, the sooner you learn to do without it the better. With regard to food, too, I am inclined to think that to have a table comfortably supplied with a moderate variety — of dishes, is by no means inconsistent with the strictest — economy. I have sometimes even fancied that a spare - Tee are Sey ee pe RN a Pe AO ae I Ye aw el ith Ping Sima NPN Wey pean bey | > _ et : . 5 ( = VRaag nh ee he ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 209 dinner had the effect of producing a very disproportionate appetite; at least I remember, when a girl, having occa- sionally the privilege of sitting down to a table of this kind, when I always felt most perversely inclined to eat up every thing that was set before me. But leaving this fact to be settled by political econo- mists, it must be allowed that persons in general are not so childish as to eat more, because they see more; and in the appearance of a well-supplied table, there is an air of comfort and respectability, which under ordinary circum- stances, I cannot think we should derive any advantage from giving up. Besides which, a certain extent of varie- ty affords opportunity for bringing out again, in a more at- tractive form, many things, which must have been other- wise dismissed altogether. In this art the French have arrived at great perfection; and as a proof of the correct- ness of these observations, the cheapness of their way of living is always a subject of surprise to the English, on their first acquaintance with French habits. Still we must feel, that the system is a dangerous one, when it leads to excess ; far better—far better is it to eat the least morsel of plain food prepared every day, than to give the time, and the thoughts, too much to the prepara- tion and enjoyment of food. - But the great point to be observed, both in the study and the practice of economy, is to proportion your expen- diture to your means. The difference, even of a hundred a year, in the income of a family, makes a considerable difference in the duties of the mistress with regard to eco- nomy. Thus, it may be highly meritorious for one mar- ried woman to do all her needlework herself, while, in ano- ther it would evince a disregard for the fitness of things, to spend her time in doing what she would be more in the 210 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — way of her duty to employ the poor and the needy to do for her. St oe In all these cases, it is evident that principle, rather than inclination, must form the basis of our actions; and in following out the principle of justice more especially, that self must hold a very inferior place in our calculations. The same may be said.of those duties which follow, and which are comprised under the head. of benevolence ; for though selfishness and generosity may, in the first view, . appear to be directly opposite in their nature, the act of giving is, In many cases, only the gratification of a refined selfishness, with which the principle of integrity has. to wage determined war. Thus there can be no generosity in giving what is not, strictly speaking, our own, nor jus- tice in receiving thanks for what we had no right to give. To be solicitous either to give, or to receive, costly pre- sents in your own family, is a sort of childish weakness, and particularly to expect such presents from a husband, for where there is a perfect identity of feeling and posses- sion, both as regards money and goods, the wife may just as well purchase the valuable article -for -herself. There is, however, something gratifying to every heart in being remembered during absence; but the gratification consists rather in finding that our trifling wants bave been thought of and supplied, than that the indulgence of our self- love or our vanity has had to be taken into.account; and a thimble in such a case may be more valuable than-a costly gem. ie : The married woman, as soon as she takes upon: herself the responsibility of standing at the head of an establish- ment, should withdraw herself in a great measure from those little obligations and kindnesses, which as a young woman, and unmarried, she might with propriety have received.— A f ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 212 She must, therefore, strictly avoid courting such favours, especially from the great, remembering that in being the mistress of a house, she has herself become a source from whence kindness ought to flow, and consequently is not so proper an object for receiving it. To be “ just before we are generous,” is a good old maxim. The duties of benevolence must, therefore, always be made subservient to those of integrity. But still where a family is neither in debt, nor in want of the common necessaries of life, there must be something due from such a family to those who are more needy than themSelves. It is-a privilege we all enjoy, of being at liberty to choose our own way of being charitable; yet if we think seriously on the subject of giving, as a duty, and regard our means as only lent to us for the purpose of doing the great- est possible amount of good which they are capable of ef- fécting 3; we shall find that instead of its being the mere in- dulgence of a natural impulse, to give, it is often the study of a lifetime to Jearn how to give judiciously. To judge by the frequency of its practice, one would sup- pose that one of the most approved methods of serving the poor, was to give away at the door pieces of broken or oth- erwise objectionable food. Yet I am disposed to think that, upon the whole, more harm than good results from this practice ; for, to say nothing of the temptation it offers to the poor to exaggerate their own wants and sufferings, the temptation to servants is no trifling one, to be perpetually adding to the’charitable hoard, what a little ingenuity or care might have converted into a wholesome palatable dish. Besides which, it is impossible that any family should be able to furnish a regular supply of such food, and the dis- appointment of the really destitute must be very great, on those days when they are obliged to return home to sit 912 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. down to an empty table, or perhaps to go supperless to bed. In addition to which objections, we may safely add, that the fewer supplicants and hangers-about, to be found at our doors, the better. Those are seldom the most needy who ask assistance in this way, and happily for our benevolence, there are innumerable channels now open, through which we may at least endeavour to do good with Figen base of doing harm. | In the exercise of kindness to the poor, care is often necessary iv avoid falling into popular mistakes with re- gard to the merit of certain cases, which after all frequently consists in nothing more than’a few circtimstances of in- terest attaching to them: The tide of fashion, when it takes a charitable course, will sometimes pour a perfect flood of benefits upon certain individuals, to the neglect of others equally deserving, and perhaps more in need. But the mistress of a family, whose mind is well governed, will be her own judge in such matters, and not allowing either indolence or self-indulgence to stand in’ her way, nor even deputing the task to others, she will, as far as it is possible to do so, examine the case for herself, in order that she may not be led away by the partial statements or highly-coloured representations of her friends. For all the purposes of benevolence, she will also keep a Separate provision, and separate accounts, in order to ascertain at the end of the year, or at any particular time, what has been thé exact proportion of her resources thus distributed. Without this kind of record, we are apt sometimes to fancy we have been more generous than is really the case; or, on-the other hand, we may have been literal beyond what was just, for it is not the number of cases we relieve, which has to be considered, so much as the due proportion of our means which is bestowed upon charitable purposes. : ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 213 When the duty of benevolence, extended through offi- ces of charity, is considered in this light, as being no duty in some cases, and in others one of serious extent and responsibility, and thus bearing, through all the interme- diate degrees between these two extremes, exact reference to our pecuniary means, to our situation in life, and to the number of relative claims we have to fulfil, it will easily be seen, that to lay down any precise rules for the amount of money which ought to be expended in charity, would be presuming upon an extent of knowledge which no sin- gle individual can possess. Besides which, there are so many ways of doing good, that benevolent feeling can often find free exercise through channels which could scarcely be considered as belonging to ae is generally understood by charity. But while perfectly aware that little can be done in the way of benefiting our fellow-creatures, without regard to their spiritual welfare, 1 own I am one of those who would wish that the bodies, as'well as the souls of the poor, might be cared for; nor can I think they would be less likely to attend to instruction, for being comfortably clothed and sufficiently fed. The mistress of a family when truly benevolent, will not rest satisfied with merely giving tothe peor. She will visit them in their dwellings, make herself acquainted with their habits, characters, and circumstances: and while urging upon them their religious duties, or recommending such means of religious instruction as may be within their reach, her own experience in the practice of economy will enable her occasionally to throw in a few useful hints on the best method of employing their scanty means, so as that every thing may be turned to the most useful account. Assistance of this kind, judiciously and kindly given, is 10* 214 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ~ often more valuable than money would be without it; and those who have but little to give, may often, by such means, extend their influence to as wide a circle of useful- ness, as if they had thousands at their disposal. hye The indigent and the suffering are often good judges of what is real, and what is pretended sympathy, or of what is meant for kindness, without sympathy at all. Thus the most sincere and fervent zeal for their spiritual improvement often fails to produce any effect, simply from the fact of little attention. being paid to their temporal affairs, or only such as they can perceive at once to be unaccompanied by any feeling of sympathy. . It isa happy constitution of mind, therefore, which has. been. given to woman, no doubt for holy and benevolent purposes, which enables her with a quick and sensitive feeling to enter into all the minutiz of daily experience, without interruption to those higher aims which must occupy the supreme atten- tion of every Christian woman in her intercourse with those who are brought under her influence or her care. The advantages of adaptation are never more. felt than in our association with the poor. By.a look, or a tone, they may be attracted or repelled. Yet how little do some worthy people think of this, when they speak to the poor, in an authoritative or disrespectful manner. It is good to bear about with us the remembrance of this fact —that we have no more right to be rude to the poor than to the rich. Even as regards household servants, so strong is the feeling of that class of persons in, this respect, that I believe mistresses who never deviate from a proper manner of speaking themselves, have seldom occasion to complain that their servants speak improperly to them. In every mistress of a family, the poor of her immedi- ate neighbourhood should feel that they have a friend, and _ ‘Ss ph ORDER, JUSTICE, AND BENEVOLENCE. 215 * where the principle of benevolence has been strongly implanted in the heart, such a mistress will esteem this con- sideration too high a privilege to allow any regard for mere personal interest to interfere with the just discharge of so sa- cred a trust. Yet to befriend the poor: substantially, and with reference to their ultimate good, all who have made the experiment will allow to be a difficult, as well as a sa- ered duty, requiring much patience, forbearance, and equa- nimity of mind, with much confidence in a superintending Providence, and faith in Him who chose his own disciples amongst the poor. That benevolence which commences its career with high expectations of reward in this world, is sure to be withered by disappointment. Indeed, there is so much to discourage the exercise of charity for the sake of produc- ing great and conspicuous results, that most persons who begin upon this principle, end by having their temper sour- ed, their confidence destroyed, and their minds embittered by uncharitable feelings towards their fellow creatyyes in general. ‘ The poor are so ungrateful, ? is their frequent re- mark—‘‘so dishonest, so requiring ; there is no pleasure in doing any thing for them.” But how different is the spirit which prompts these complaints from that of the Bible, where the poor are mentioned in almost every page, and where the duty of kindness and consideration towards them is enforced upon the simple ground of their being poor, without regard to any other merit or demerit soateycn! Nor is it to the poor alone, but towards her fellow-crea- tures in general, that the woman who undertakes the su- perintendence of a family, should cultivate feelings of kindness and benevolence. Men engaged in the active ~ affairs of life, have neither time nor opportunity for those innumerable little acts of consideration which come within rar se CAG HP ney NU Hew etc 1.0) Rage plain? Iai OL Ran : ‘. | MA Aa ad Rape a eA eg ‘ #4 soit rea ichasa Aiba aed saan, Oe Tea RSs a Mion Get Pst Renae a tare ge ea ON y 216 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. the sphere of female duty, nor are they by nature so fitted — as woman for entering into the peculiarities of personal . feeling, so as to enable them tosympathize with the suffer- ing or the distressed. But woman, inthe happiest exercise of her natural endowments, enjoys all those requisites which are combined in a real friend; and as such she ought al- ways to be regarded at the head of her domestic establish- ment—a friend with whom all within the reach of her in- fluence may fee] that their interests are safe—a friend in whose sympathy all may share, and in whose charity all may find a place. No one, however, can be such a friend as this, without having cultivated benevolent dispositions towards the human racein general, without feeling that all are members of one great family, only differently placed for a short period of their existence, and that all are objects of kindness and care to the same heavenly Father, CHAPTER ‘Xt. TREATMENT OF SERVANTS AND DEPENDENTS. Ir, as soon aS a Woman marries, she has the services of domestic assistants at her command, she has also devolving upon her the responsibility of their comfort, and their gen-. — eral welfare; and it is a serious thought that she cannot, — by any means, escape from this responsiblity, whatever may, in other respects, be the privileges and indulgences’ of her situation. Neither the affection of her husband nor , the kindness of her friends can do any thing to relieve her here, except only so far as their advice may aid her _ judgment; but as the mistress of a house, she must be the — TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 217 “one responsible being for the habits, and, in a great mea- ; sure, for the circumstances, of those who are placed under her care. By the thoughtless or inexperienced, it may be asked how this should he, since servants are expected to care for us, not we forthem? Such, however, is not the language of ~a Christian woman, with whom it will be impossible to forget that her influence and example must unavoidably ' give a tone to the character of her whole household; and aif there be no solicitude for a bias to be given towards what is good, it must unavoidably be towards what is evil. It is morally impossible that it should neither be one way nor the other, because the very time which a servant spends beneath a master’s roof, will, of necessity, be confirming old habits, if not spent in acquiring new ones; and thus while fondly persuading yourself that because you are doing nothing, you cannot be doing harm, you may, in reality, be guilty of the sin of omission, which, in cases of moral responsibility, is often of the most serious con- Sequence. g It is too frequently considered that servants are a class of persons merely subject to our authority. Could we re- gard them more as placed under our influence, we should take a wider and more enlightened view of our own respon- sibilities with regard to them. And after all, it is influence a rather than authority, which governs a household; not but ~ that every mistress has a right to expect implicit obedience, all neglect of which is injurious to both the parties con- cerned, and in order to enforce which, her orders should _ always be given in as clear and decided a manner as pos- d sible, leaving nothing, except where it is absolutely neces- sary, to contingencies, and nothing to the choice of the servant herself, unless good reasons should be adduced for 218 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — a change of purpose; and then the orders of the mistress. should be so worded as to make the purpose her ow , and — not to allow the servant an opportunity of. feeling: that shies, has overruled the plans of her mistress, and in — sub stituted her own. eae observance are very difficult to maintain, Ga si habit of giving foolish. orders, inconvenient: or impossible to be executed, and of finding that her servant is capable of proposing what is at once more reasonable, and much to be preferred, will, in all probability, reduce her to a mere nonentity as regards authority in her kitchen, and may ulti- mately be the cause of her withdrawing from all interfe-. rence there. 2 ora But necessary as it is that. a mistress shad be ie citly obeyed, I repeat, that it is not by mere authority that a household can be well governed; because there are innumerable ways in. which servants can deceive without — being detected, and carry on their own schemes while they appear to be adopting those of a mistress; it is, therefore, by no other means than by the establishment of mutual feelings of confidence and respect, that we can hope to be as faithfully served when absent, as when inspecting our affairs in person; and asI have already said that a kitchen can never be the proper element for an enlightened woman to live in, the greater confidence she feels in a right SYS ig tem heise. carried on there, the more leisure she will pos- * sess for other avocations, and the more. happiness she will enjoy. “ The question then arises, how is ds night aptesntaonl ing, and this perfect confidence to be attained? I answer, © first, by respecting the rights of servants, and secondly, by — attention to their interests. There are certain duties which Fale reece Se lisp |e a i a I mA Ua" I oh Pea Veo CN a al — MASE 2 ee Veo cn alae halk A vad ; AE ~~" SA af ii TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 219 you have a right to. require of them, and amongst them is 4 implicit obedience; but there ave also many things which “even though they might greatly promote your convenience, you have no right to require. You have no right to re- quire a reduction of wages below what you first agreed to give, or indeed, any deviation from what was stipulated for in that agreement. And here it may be well to observe, that all particular requirements with regard to dress and ‘ personal habits, should be mentioned at that time, so that no disappointments. or disputes may afterwards arise. Notes should also be made of such arrangements, with the time of hiring, and the rate of wages; and when all these things in the beginning are clearly stated, and fully under- “stood, it may tend greatly to the prevention of unpleasant consequences. Whatever your own circumstances may be, it is the _ right of your servants to have a sufficiency of rest, and of ~ wholesome food; and even. in cases of sickness, or other exigency, you. have no right to require that either should be given up; to request it as a kindness, is the only proper manner in which a servant should be brought to make such concessions; and we have often a beautiful example for imitation in the perfect willingness with which when thus treated, they will deny themselves personal indulgence, more especially sit up night after night with the sick, with- out in the intermediate times neglecting their daily work. . It is a delicate part of good management, but a very important one in maintaining influence, to keep always clear distinctions on these points, and not even to demand ~ the pillow from a servant’s bed, remembering that all » things essential to their daily sustenance and nightly rest, have been stipulated for in your first agreement, and that your servants are under no greater obligation than other ve ie y 7 i? THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. members of your family, to give up what may be classed under the head of bed or board. But I must again observe, that there is a manner of requesting these things. to be done, when required on any extraordinary occasion, which seldom meets with a refusal, or even with an unw ik m pliance. ~ i, A certain degree of care of your servant’s: hneulth, is a species of kindness which they always feel gratefully, and which is no more than ought to be shown by the mistress : towards every member of her household. -Indeed it is im- possible to imagine a kind-hearted woman neglecting the pallid looks, and languid movements, of those who are spending their strength in her service; and if she be at. the same time a lover of justice, she vill remember that the bodily exercise necessary for carrying on household labour ‘ during the day, requires a greater interval of rest tha * such occupations as are generally carried on in.the draw- : ing-room. Instead of which, how often do we find those — | on whom devolves the burden of this labour, required to A rise two or three hours earlier than their mistress, and kept up at night as late as any one of the household !—keptup perhaps to wait for the return of visitors, when another — member of the family allowed to rest longer in the morning might as well have done so in their stead—kept up on a © cold winter’s night to warm a bed, which the indulgent i occupant might more properly have warmed herself, u less she had chosen to retire earlier—or kept up perhaps — until a late hour for family worship; a practice which re- _ quires no further comment, than to say, that except Ny, | very extraordinary occasions, or where great allowance is _ made in the morning for rest, no servants ought to be ex: tend family worship after ten at night.” | By allowing, and even requiring rae servants to retire — | | | SL Ne ee ect. 2 ae eeeA ne de ‘ . of \ ‘ ,, J “ee ays i = A er . TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 23F . early, you have a right to expect their services early in the morning, without which no household can be properly ‘conducted; for when the day commences with hurry and confusion, in order to overtake lost time, the same state of things, only aggravated by its unavoidable tendency to eall forth evil tempers, impatient expressions, and angry retorts, will in all probability continue until the end of the . And here we see, as in thousands of instances be= sides, the importance of making ourselves acquainted with what belongs to nature, and especially that of the human _ heart. We may compel an outward observance of the laws we lay down for our own families, but we cannot ~ compel such feelings to go along with their observance, as alone can render it any lasting benefit either to our ser- _ yants or ourselves. Thus by rendering our service an irk- some one, or in other words not attending to what the consti- - tution of human nature requires, we effectually destroy our good influence; and if by bringing religion into the same hard service, we render it an irksome restraint, the mischief we do by this means may be as fearful in its extent, as it _ is serious and important in its character. But of this, more in another chapter. | ~The same care which is exercised with regard to your servants’ health, should be extended to their habits in gen- eral, and even to cases in which their good alone is con- ere for it isan act of injustice to complain of the abits of this class of persons, without doing your part to form, upon better principles, those which come within the sphere of your influence. It is often objected to this duty, that nothing can be done for the good of young servants, so Prong as they are encouraged at home in what is foolish, and wrong. The mothers then are clearly to blame; and certainly the mothers in many poor families are bad 929 ‘THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. | . . . enough. But who made the mothers vt ieyrcibe or helped to make them so? Unquestionably the negligent, ' or unprincipled mistresses under whose influence these —_ lives were spent. coe And have you not then sufficient regard fii re wil el. fare of future generations to begin a new system, by which the errors of the last may be corrected? For the little © thoughtless girl just entering beneath your roof—the young — nursery-maid—she of whom nobody thinks, except to find fault when she has done wrong—she who perhaps never — thinks herself; except to contrive how she shall manage to purchase a ribbon like that upon her mistress’s cap— this very girl is gradually experiencing under your influ- ence, and, nominally at least, under your care, that great and important a of thought, feeling, and yeep yy eee this ein will aa wis take away with her water bias she receives either from your neglect, or your atten- — tion, first into other families, and then into her own, where she herself will probably in her turn have to train up child ren both for this world and the next. Aa Will the wives of England then think me very extra- vagant in my notions of what is due towards servants, when I propose to those in the middle class of society, that as Christian women they should consider such young. ser- vants as placed peculiarly under their care; because it is — only by beginning early, that that great and radical change can be effected in the habits and character of servants gen- erally, which all unite in sanenloae as SO. ears re-g quired. , : If a mistress would feally do this; ‘atid I canst sell how any responsible person so circumstanced is justified in neglecting it, she would consider that some oversight c TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 223 _of her servants’ wardrobe was absolutely necessary; and as they grow older, and come to be intrusted with money of their own, the same oversight should extend to their manner of spending it. It is an excellent thing when “servants are allowed time for making their own clothes, and it is no: mean occupation for the mistress of a house to teach them how to do so. I speak on the supposition that _she is acquainted with this art herself, for 1 cannot ima-. ~ gine the education of an English woman in the middle class of society complete, without her having become fa- miliar with the art of making every. aricle of dress she wears. Not that she is under any obligation to continue the practice of making her own clothes; that is a totally different matter ; but as this class of women are situated, and taking into account all the probabilities of change of circumstance, failure of health, or failure of pecuniary _ means, I am convinced that no one could have to regret, - while thousands might have to rejoice, at having acquired in early life an art so capable of being made useful both to themselves and others. I believe that one-half of the forlornness, discomfort, and apparent destitution of the poor around us, arises, not so much from absolute want of means, as from the absemce of all knowledge of this kind. They are unfortunately but too ready to imitate us in our love of finery, our ex- peevagance, and self-indulgence ; and it is a serious ques- tion whether they discover any thing else in us which they can imitate; but let them see our.economy, our industry, »our contrivance, and our solicitude to turn every thing to the best account, and I believe they would not be slow to - imitate these habits as well as the others. The art of mending, for instance, though most impor- tant to the poor, is one in which they are lamentably de- 7 bei. 224 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. om ficient ; and so much waste, disorder, and slovenliness, are the consequence of not being able to mend skilfully, that this department of neatness. and economy is one in which all young servants should be carefully instructed; more especially as the making-up of new clothes is a much easier, as well as generally more agreeable task, than that of mending old ones, so that they look *arespentable to 2 last. | By this kind of oversight of her servants’ w aidebbns a kind-hearted and judicious mistress may easily obtain some direction in the expenditure of their money, and in nothing is assistance to the poorer classes more necessary than in this. Servants generally are pleased to have the appro- bation of a beloved and respected mistress in those cases over which she does not assume any direct authority ; and ‘they would be equally mortified to find they had incurred her disapprobation by the purchase of what was worthless, _ or unbefitting their situation. By this: means, too, mis- tresses would generally be better able than they are, to understand what is sufficient, and consequently what is just, with regard to wages; for while on the one ‘hand, some require their servants always to look respectable without allowing them the means to do so, others are in- duced by fabio or custom to give higher wages ian are really any benefit to the receiver. | But the variety of instances are too numerous to specify, in which the Christian care and oversight of a good mistress © may be invaluable to a young servant. 1 will mention but one more, and that of greater importance than any which” have yet fallen under our consideration. I mean the pre- servation of young servants from circumstances sid em : or temptation. | Those who have never lived in isicteiianajiaie ~espe- P TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 225 cially in London, would scarcely give credit to the facts, were they told the number of instances in which servants are brought from the country, and being obliged, from: ill- ness or some other cause, to leave their employers, are al- lowed to be cast upon the mercy of the public, friendless and destitute, and too often a prey to the cruel deceptions which are practised upon young females thus situated.— Some of the most painful amongst the many distressing cir- ‘cumstances which come under the notice of those Christian ladies who have the oversight of female penitentiaries, are cases in which country servants have been brought to town, and having lost their health, or suffered from accident, have been placed in hospitals, and left there without regard to their future destiny ; when, on coming out, they have found that all clue was lost to their former masters or mistresses, and that they were consequently alone in the streets of Lon-- - don, without money, without friends, and without the knowledge of any respectable place in which they might find shelter. It may be said that these are extreme cases, but it is Jamentably true that these, and others of similar neglect, are not so rare as persons would suppose who are unac- quainted with the practices of our large towns. Another evil against which mistresses ought to be es- pecially on their guard, is the introduction of unprincipled _ char-women, or other assistants, into their families. Inthe country it is comparatively easy to ascertain what is the general moral character of those around us; but in large »towns this knowledge is more. difficult to acquire, and incalculable mischief has often been the consequence of associating young servants with persons of this descrip- tion. The practice of sending out young female servants late ae a on 226 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. — at night, to bring home any members of the family who may be out visiting, or placing them in any other manner unnecessarily in circumstances of exposure, are considera- tions to which we ought not to be indifferent ; and the mistress who allows her servant to be thus circumstanced, ¥ Bs % * would do well to ask herself how she would like a young sister, or a daughter, to be placed in a similar situation. Can it be that youth has not as strong a claim to our pro- tection in the lower as in the higher walks of life? Can it be that innocence is not as precious to the poor as to the rich? Did the case admit of any degree of comparison, I should say that it was more so; for what has a poor girl but her character to depend upon ? Or when once the stigma of having deviated from the strict line of propriety attaches to her name, who is there to defend her from the consequences ? Her future lot will in all probability be to become the wife of some poor and hard-working man, ~ whose whole amount of worldly wealth will be comprised in the respectability of his humble home. Who then, through indifference or neglect, would: allow a shadow to steal in, still less a blight to: fall, where, in spite of pov- erty, in spite of trial, in spite of all those hardships which are the inevitable portion of the man who earns his bread ‘by the labour of his hands, his home might still be an earthly paradise to him ? Young women of a higher grade in society, or rie who are more properly called ladies, being all taught in | the great school of polished: society; acquire the same habits of decorum, and even of modesty, to a certain ex- tent; and the restrictions of society rendering. it more painful to deviate from such habits, than to maintain them — through life, we come, very naturally, to look upon them rather as a matter of course than as a merit. But in the TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 227 modesty of a poor young girl there is inexpressible beauty, because we know that it must arise from the right feelings of her heart; and none who are capable of truly estima- ting this charm, would for the wealth of worlds be the cause of its being lost. | _ Itis a common saying with servants, that they do not fear work if well treated ; and I believe such little acts of consideration as the heart of a kind mistress will naturally ‘Suggest, may be made to go much farther in. stimulating them to a right performance of their duty, than either high wages or great personal indulgence. A little consideration shown for their wishes where the matter is one of little moment to their employers, is felt{by them as a real kind- ness, and often abundantly rewarded by their willingness and alacrity in doing whatever is required of them. An instance was once brought painfully under my notice, where the mistress of a house and some of her family were consulting about whether a servant should be _ sent to a neighbouring town before, or after, dinner. They themselves appearing to have no choice, it was suggested by another party, that the servant would prefer going in the afternoon. “He prefer it, indeed!” exclaimed the lady of the house; “then for that reason he shall go in the morning.” When it is added, that the lady was a most kind, and in many respects truly excellent character, this fact is difficult to believe ; and I am only induced to state it as a striking proof to what an extent benevolent feeling may be restrained in its exercise, by the habit of thinking that servants are merely passive instruments upon which authority ought to be exercised; and that, consequently, all pretension on their part to an equality of feeling with ‘ourselves, as regards what is agreeable or otherwise, ought to be put down by the most prompt and decided measures. we * 228 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. After all, however, it must be iHapods that. there are some servants, and perhaps not a few, who cannot, by the best. and most judicious treatment, be moulded to our wishes ; and with regard to these, if the case 1s a decided . one, that they can neither do good to us, nor we to them, the sooner we get rid of them the better. Before deciding too hastily to part with a servant, we should, however, — call into exercise all the charity we can, by remembering how different their education and early treatment have been from ours, and if we cannot on this ground for- give them some faults, either they or we must be ya indeed. | : i Again, there may have been faults on our side as well as theirs. We may have been too lax in our discipline, for kindness ceases to be such when it degenerates into negligence. Thus, to permit servants to feel that: there are in your household, departments of duty which you never superintended, and places and things secure from your inspection, is allowing them a license which few are so conscientious as not, in some measure, to abuse. It may happen too, that you have been expecting regularity from them, while you failed to practise it yourself; or, that you have been requiring neatness, order, and punctuality, when your own example, on the points of observance, has been far from corresponding with your a and in- _ actions. “a That care should be exercised not to part too fastipaith servants is as much for the intesest of one party as another ; since the distinction of a bad name as a mistress, is sure to be felt in its natural consequence of preventing good servants seeking employment under such direction. It is in the power of all mistresses to make it a privilege to live with them, but still this privilege will occasionally be abused. if TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 299 There are cases too, in which the natural dispositions of the two parties are not suited ; and there is such a thing as a mistress becoming afraid of her servant—afraid to thwart her plans, or afraid to enforce others; and where such is the feeling, whatever may be the excellencies of the ser- vant, that she is not in her proper place with such a mis- - tress, is sufficiently evident. Instances of dishonesty, or other cases of serious moral delinquency, I have not deemed it necessary to mention, because all must be aware of the importance of treating them in an equitable and summary manner. The only thing to be observed in relation to these is, that the evi- dence upon which we act should be élear and decisive, In all cases of dissatisfaction, it is good to bear in mind the familiar and true maxim, that “ good mistresses make good servants ;” and that with persons who are constantly changing, some fault must rest with themselves ; Some fault attributable either to mismanagement or neglect ; some fault arising either from too great indulgence or too great severity, or perhaps from a mixture of both. And I am strongly disposed to think, that independently of such faults, many of the grievances we complain of in our do- mestic affairs, and especially those that arise out of the foolish, perverse, or unprincipled conduct of our servants, might be obviated by more careful attentiou being paid to the formation of their character when young. _ That a better system is also required with regard to the practice of giving characters to servants, is universally allowed ; yet few persons seem to have the moral courage to begin with a plan, which shall be at once more just to the employers and the employed. This weakness of pur- pose originates, no doubt, in an amiable feeling of anxiety, Jest by speaking of our servants as we have really found 11 230 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. them, we should deprive them of a future home. . The case unquestionably has its difficulties, yet as a moral obli- gation, it must. be allowed, that the sooner we begin to act fairly and honestly, the better it will ultimately be,» both for ourselves, and those with whom we. are associated ; and there can be no doubt, that the confidence all servants feel in being able to obtain what. 1s called.a character, so. long as they have not been really dishonest, insolent, or disobedient, renders them more careless than. they other- wise would be, of those minor points of domestic duty, which, taken asa whole, form an aggregate of considera- ble importance to those who engage their services. This, then, is one of those cases, in which the Wives of England are called upon to assist each other, not only in making a strong determination, but in acting upon it, so far as to break through a popular and long-established practice, by speaking of servants, when asked for their character, in such terms as they really deserve ; without reference to their worldly interests, or indeed to any thing but the simple truth. If by such means, a few of them should be longer than they now are in obtaining. situations, a great many would be more careful to fill their places to the satisfaction of the families by whom they are employed; and thus honesty would be found in the end, as it always 1s, to be the best policy. ' In addition to household servants, many) married \ women have devolving upon them the serious responsibility of caring for apprentices, or other assistants in the way of business; and in the discharge of these duties, it is most important for all who are thus circumstanced, to ask them- selves whether they are acting upon the golden rule of — doing to others what they would that others should do to them, or to those in whom they are most warmly interested. = | A Sol ate or ae ee as yi oo i ee ia TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC, 231 If they are, their merit is great, and there can be no doubt but their reward will be so too; for we must all allow, that it requires no ordinary share of kind feeling, or of Christian principle, to do all which a high sense of duty requires in this respect. There are many reasons why the task is difficult—almost too difficult for mere human nature to perform; and it is not the least of these, that most young men who begin to learn a business, enter as strangers into a family at an age when they have little to recommend them as companions, except to their own associates, or to a partial parent ; yet at that precise time of their lives, when the formation of . their habits and character requires the strictest care. It is easy to imagine that few women would prefer spending much of their time with youths of fifteen, or eighteen years of age, in connection with whom they have no family tie, or strong connecting interest ; but why, on the other hand, the wife of a man who is engaged in business, to the suc- cessful pursuit of which she owes all her pecuniary advan- tages, should hold herself above her husband’s clerks, or apprentices, I never could distinctly see; more especially as time was when her own husband was thus situated, and most probably time will be, when her sons will be the same. Is it possible, then, that a mother thus circumstanced can look with indifference to the future, when the happy boy who plays beside her, the joy of her own heart, and the pride of his father’s—the spirited handsome fellow who carries away the prizes at his school, and lords it over his playmates, and only softens into tenderness when he sees his mother’s tears.—Is it possible that she can think with indifference of the time when he shall be old enough to 20 out into a stranger’s family—nay actually be bound there for a term of years, and thus inwrought as it were with the Aides ie eS aN tay oa er RSA Rey Te ae Oe RENTON CER Shih tee NE i ; 7 >a 4 1 232 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. _ entire fabric of a new order of domestic arrangements ; yet notwithstanding all this, made to sit apart, and to feel that he is not only an alien, but an absolute intruder, as regards the mistress of that family and her friends. Could the fond mother follow her boy when thus circumstanced, up to his own bed-room in. the attic, and see how often, for want of a welcome at the household. hearth, he sits there upon his box, and reads the books he brought from home, at the risk of being chidden for the light he has kept burning ;—could she see the far-off way in which he sits at the family board, satisfying his hunger according to 3 necessity, not choice; could she see the manner in which, from the very overflow of the life of his young spirit, he is - driven down, and compelled to make merry with associates unfitted to himself, at least to that self with which he was identified in his father’s home, but which he has almost ceased to remember now ;—could she hear when he speaks how his voice is becoming gradually habituated to the utterance of low thoughts and words which never formed a part of the language of his home ;—but beyond all this —could she see his Sabbaths—his days of rest—those happy days, when the members of his father’s family used — all to be united in equality of feeling, and solicitous only to give precedence to each other,—could she behold him walking the streets of some great town, and for want of home-attractions, for want of cordiality and welcome at his master’s fireside, familiarizing himself with the sinful — practices of others similarly circumstanced; could the mother, beholding all this, trace out its fearful and degra- ding consequences upon the future destiny of her boy, she would be ready to exclaim to. the mistress aA that house- hold—* Save my child !” | Should any such appeal be made, the mistress of that = Fe eg RR eT ean | Le ee a ee Oe au ae | , . ae 7 / : TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 233 family would in all probability reply with indignation— ‘The young men employed in my husband’s business enjoy the very best of food, they are not required to work beyond the hours agreed upon, and their sleeping-rooms are healthy and well furnished.”” And all this may be strictly true, yet the mother’s heart may be unsatisfied, for she knows, and we all know, that it is possible to be well cared for as regards the body, and yet be made to feel most destitute. ‘We all know that there is a kind of treatment which ele- vates the moral feelings, and another which degrades them, rendering the spirit upon which it operates, grovelling, servile, mean. And if this powerful influence should be _ made to weigh upon, and bear down the buoyant mind of youth, what must we expect, after such treatment, will be - the downward tendency of old age ? But is it possible, we ask again, that the mother whose natural instinct renders her so;keenly alive to all these feel- ings as regards her own child, can be insensible to the claims of others ?—can be induced by her own pride, or her own selfishness, to trample underfoot the high moral obligation laid upon her, to be as a mother to her own household, but especially to the young, remembering that they will go forth into the world bearing the seal upon their foreheads of her maternal care, or of her most cul- pable neglect? Nor is this all. She must remember, too, that these very youths are to constitute in after life that strong phalanx of respectability, in whose moral power are vested the interests of the people, and the welfare of the state. Is it nght then—is it just—is it politic—that during five or seven long years of the lives of such men—years in which the most lasting impressions they ever will receive, are made—is it ight, or in any way to be reconciled to English women, that for this portion of their lives = 934 -THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ~ they should he subjected to a system of moral discipline, calculated, in almost every way, to lower reine as a citizens of the world ? | “ But it is not always thus. There are noble and Heri: tiful instances of women who absolutely could not live upon such terms. Warm-hearted, patriotic women; who cannot sit down to their own tables without a cordial welcome for every one entitled to a place at the same board—who, put- ting aside all personal feeling, can even make friends of such associates, remembering: that to their parents, and their country, they are in a great measure responsible for the high or the low position such men may take in after life. Yes, we are happy in believing, there are those who would willingly bear all the annoyance or restraint of such so- clety, were it tenfold greater than it is, rather than be the cause of one young man being drawn out from home to seek enjoyment, or down into a lower grade of social fel- lowship, for a freedom and cordiality which he could not find with her. Contemptuously as young men will often speak of the influence and the habits of women in general, I believe there are few who may not in the early part of their lives, be more easily influenced. by women than by men—by judicious women, I mean, for, notwithstanding the absurdi- ties of which some youths are guilty themselves, they ap- pear to be instinctively quick-sighted to the absurdities of others, and especially to those of woman. In fact, they seem glad to lay hold of any excuse for despising them, and, even where they feel the greatest respect, will seldom acknowledge it openly or directly. But for all this, the cautious and well-ordered treatment of women tells upon their characters in the end; and by a little good-natured falling-in with their humours, a little forbearance under Rae tive 1 Saye he ae. eer . ? 4 # a an : Oe f : J oy P. ea DY ee TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 235 the infliction of their anncyances, a little good sense, and a great deal of cheerfulness, an amiable woman will sel- dom fail to obtain, even without the assumption of any di- rect authority, an extensive influence over the young men with whom she is associated. For this reason, and because the master of a family with whom it rests to exercise real authority cannot so well unbend, and make himself familiar with the young people under his direction, the claims of this part of the commu- nity are strong upon the wives of England, who as they value the comfort of their own sons, and estimate with re- gard to them the advantages of a high moral standard, can surely not forget the interests of the stranger’s son committed to their care. . The same observations apply with equal force to de- pendents of every description, excepting only that those who are not bound, may be considered as at liberty to find situations more suited to their ideas of comfort. But, above all others, the class of destitute or homeless relatives are most entitled to our consideration and kind- ness. Yet such is the weakness of human nature in cases of severe or protracted trial, that the good and the happi- ness of all parties seem to require as little mixing up as possible in the same household, of rich and poor relations. ' When the poor have to be provided for by more affluent relatives, it is better—far better, to do this at a distance, or at least not associated as one family ; though such needful precaution has nothing whatever to do with the kindness which may often be most appropriately extended towards them as guests, or indeed as members of the same family for a limited period. In all such cases, there are difficulties to be contended with on both sides, owing to the natural tendency in one 236 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. party to suspect or imagine slights, and in the other to ap- prehend or resist encroachments. One half of these, how- ever, I am fully persuaded, might be obviated. by a candid and delicate mode of behaviour on the part of the mistress of a house who entertains such relatives as guests. Her behaviour must be delicate in the extreme, because she has to do with those whose peculiar situation renders them more than commonly susceptible of pain; and it must be candid : because in all such cases the habit of leaving things to be understood is the surest way to produce misunderstandings. Still the delicacy which would make no difference be felt, would fail in its object to do good; because as the world considers there is a vast difference between abundant and slender pecuniary means, there could be no kindness in per- suading those who are but scantily supplied in this respect, that they are to mix in society upon the same terms as the rich; and more especially after one or more generations have marked this difference between them and their rela- tives by stronger characters. While it is left to all persons to decide according to their own judgment to what extent they will cultivate the acquaintance of their poorer relatives, the manner of doing this admits of no doubt; for to receive them as guests with- out a welcome, is at once a breach of justice and hospitality. The welcome then which I would earnestly recommend, is” one which sets them perfectly at ease as to any fear of in- trusion, and which does away with all idea that personally they are considered as inferiors by the mistress. of the house; though at the same time her behaviour should be. such as to assist them in marking out-for their safety in associating with others, those delicate distinctions, upon the nice observance of which so much of their comfort and respectability depends. By encouraging them to trust im- —_ eG a Ce ee, ee ee ie i” * ce = p ] ~_ “4 , TREATMENT OF SERVANTS, ETC. 237 plicitly to her candour in expressing her wishes respecting them, she may, as the mistress of a house, be enabled to become a real friend to a class of persons whose claims are perhaps the strongest of any upon our sympathy and con- sideration. For let the case be our own—let the lapse of time as it passes over our family connections leave us alone to struggle with a tide of adverse cis@umstances; while those who originally branched off from the same root are basking in the sunshine of prosperity—let us ask of our own hearts, whether we should not sometimes feel it hard to be shut out from their indulgences, and thrust down as it were into a lower grade of society altogether, without any fauit of our own. Nor is it so much the fact itself, as the accompaniments of this fact, which we should feel it -hard to bear—the willingness of our relations to forget.us—their cold or forced ciyilities when we claimed their attention, compared with the warmth of their emotions towards those who were more distinguished than ourselves—the situations they might point out to us as eligible, but which they would almost die rather than occupy—the times they would choose for inviting us, when no one else was likely to appear—the multitude of things reserved for us to do, when our health required that we should have perfect rest—all which are perfectly natural, and might easily occur without any accompaniment of unkind feeling. Yet, these are only small items of a vast sum, like grains of dust in the long wearisome and humiliating path, which the poor relation must tread in associating with the rich. In all such circumstances, how much may the facts themselves be ameliorated to the sufferer, by the kind and cordial treatment of the mistress of a family, and especially by one whose high sense of justice and generosity admits iT* 238 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. | of no half welcomes beneath her roof! Such a mistress will consider the poor relative as peculiarly under her pro- tection, to guard from slights, to bring forward as occa- sion may invite, to keep back as circumstances may ‘require, and to render comfortable and at ease whatever may occur. And if in the contemplation of this duty, in addition to those @lready dwelt upon in this chapter, the English wife should fear that her time will be so occupied in thinking of others, as to leave none for thinking of her- self, she must remember, that by these means she will gather around her a strong phalanx of friends, whose love and gratitude will leave her little to wish for, which it is in their power to supply ; and beyond this, she will find that by the same means she has been put in possession of one of the great secrets of human happiness—that of making others happy. Be CHAPTER XII SOCIAL INFLUENCE. VisITING, and receiving visits, being regarded by some married women as amongst the most important avocations of life, it may possibly to such individuals imply an igno- rance of the claims of society, when I venture to hint at the probability of this being one of the peculiar tempta- tions against which women in general would do wisely to be on their guard, especially against acquiring a habit of visiting, as a means of escape from the dulness — monot- ony of their own firesides. she si It needs but little acquaintance with domestic duty, to a SAR ES Roe! TL eT ae OO ALN le UNM AS 8 phy teak ae AQIRE MO CUPL DTN aay aah See er Py MPs ’ om a” wae? ai f ’ “be ee Ps ws ¢ Poe EBS Ng As. SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 239 know that there must be something wrong in the home of that woman who is always leaving it; although, on the other hand, few persons would recommend exclusive confinement to the same narrow sphere of thought and action, in which we exist at home. It is good to go out into society sometimes, in order that we may return with the greater relish; but a still more extensive amount of good is derived from what we may learn in mixed society, and sometimes even from the humblest individuals we meet with there. It must, however, depend much upon ourselves, whether we go out prepared to make visiting a wholesome refresh- ment to the mind, or a means of collecting and dissemina- ting low ideas with regard to our own affairs, and those of our neighbours. When a married woman goes out intent upon reckoning the cost of the entertainment she partakes of, upon comparing her neighbour’s furniture with her own, but especially upon depreciating the excellence of all which falls under her notice, it may safely be said that she would have been better at home; but when she goes out with a desire to extend her kindly feelings towards her fellow- creatures in general, to learn from others, and to impart knowledge in return ; or, in other words, to do and receive good in any way that may open, she will seldom have the mortification of returning home weary and dispirited, or wishing she had never gone. But pleasant as this kind of refreshment may occasion- ally be, and necessary as it is sometimes to mix with others in order to have our views enlarged, and our prejudices rubbed off, the woman who makes it the chief business of her life to visit and receive company, will have committed a lamentable mistake by getting married ; for this business might unquestionably have been carried on in her single Ey Seren Ales hater. smite eae Ry aa Pre 240 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. state with as much enjoyment to herself, and with far less injury to the happiness of others. Whatever is done by 2 | married woman in the way of duty, must have reference to __ others, and more especially to those with whom she is most intimately connected; how then can it be promoting their interests, or making their welfare the chief object of desire, for her to be bestowing her time, her intelligence—nay, all that is pleasing in her manners, and interesting in her character, upon comparative strangers ; while her lassitude, weariness, and exhaustion, the natural effects of too much excitement, are brought home to her own, family, and a: sparingly indulged before them. There are probabls few English wives ay would ; re- ally wish:to enter at once upon so unnatural a way of liy- ing; but there are unfortunately too many, who from want of firmness to resist temptation, as well as prudence and discernment to foresee what consequences must. inevitably follow certain acts, are drawn into that vortex of dissipa- tion apparently against their will, and, if one could really . believe their protestations, still more decidedly against their inclinations. dea There is no more curious phenomenon, presented by human life, than that of innumerable multitudes of persons doing every day, towards. each other, with every demonstration. of delight, what one-half at least of the — same individuals declare themselves to be doing with the ut- most unwillingness, and even with dislike. In nothing is this more striking than in the ceremonyof making morning calls. The devices which are practised to. escape from callers, on the one hand, and to call upon persons who are not at home, on the other, might put to shame the warmest advocate for keeping up these forms of polished life. . For let the whole nation, as with one stout heart, determine to speak. the tao fe > A a eS ee a a a Ue) ff ee ee ee ree ee we aE esr ree A Ae pe Oe eee ‘ae ee ee Oe gy, " RA arian ene get aN Lew eh e ehh yee Ren ely on ea, nee wie en ibe . : bai 2 , - i ai SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 241 truth, and say exactly what degree of willingness is really felt to go out and make these calls, or to stay at home and receive them, and let the willingness thus avowed, be made the rule of their future conduct, what an immense amount of precious time would thus be rescued from worse than waste ! Nor is it the absolute calls themselves, which consti- tute the whole objection to the practice as it is now carried on, for every mistress of a family addicted to this practice, knows that there are two or three good hours—nay, actual- ly the very best of every day, which she can never call her own, and which she consequently makes no jattempt to spend in any rational or useful manner. If any thing within the sphere of her duties has really to be done, it must be hurried through between, perhaps, a late breakfast, and the arrival of those few early callers, who come on business, or really wish to find the lady of the house at home. When these are gone, the first part of the farce commences, and if the after scenes could be made to vary so as to develope what was interesting or new, there would perhaps be less objection to the whole. But unfortunately having gone through one set of observations, one series of little surprises at the intelligence of the day, one succession of ani- tnated smiles, and expressions of profound interest, no soon- er is another guest announced, than the lady of the house has to be just as much astonished at the news, and just as much startled at each item of intelligence, as if she had never heard it before—just as much pleased to receive the twentieth caller as the first, and although in all probability no single truth has been told her with which she was not all the while acquainted, no new idea developed, and no feeling, except weariness, excited, she has to remain until the last as fascinating, vivacious, and apparently delighted, as she was at first. ES Sho oe 942 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Now if this is not hard labour, I am ignorant what labour is. If this is not waste of time, I am ignorant what is its use. If this is not a weariness and’ degradation to. — the spirit, I am ignorant on that point too. Allowing, however, that calls are necessary, a fact I do not pretend to dispute, allowing also that some particular portion of each day should be appropriated to that purpose, what harm, I would ask, would result to society in general, from having that time compressed into’ the space of one hour each day. It is true that by this means many callers would probably have to be introduced at the same time, but here would be the great advantage, that the same common-place remarks would do forall at once, the same little starts of astonishment, the same expression of interest lighting up the face, and beyond this, the same delighted welcome for the many, embodied in one, might have’a better chance of being really cordial and sincere. In ad- dition to these advantages, every married woman should have the privilege of fixing her own hour as a generally understood thing, so that her household arrangements might be made accordingly ; and time comparatively secure would thus be left for pursuing any more important avocations without fear of interruption. , I now appeal to the wives of England, whether the carrying out of such a plan would not be felt as'a general relief; more especially since it need only be adopted by those shat consider time too precious a gift to be spent in a sort of trifling which seems neither todo good, nor to give satisfaction ; while all who prefer the present system, would enjoy ‘the wusitRstiale of spending their whole morn- ings either in making or receiving calls. The only differ- ence to them would be, that they could no’longer with any justice complain of the system as irksome or annoying. SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 243 In such observations I would be understood to refer to those calls of ceremony, habit, or fancied necessity, which are universally complained of behind the scenes. — Visits of friendship are of a totally different order, and might be arranged for accordingly. But whatever plans may be proposed, the great evil to be avoided is, a universal deter- mination to appear pleased with what is as universally complained of as a waste of time, and a tax upon patience and sincerity ; for that can never be a right state of things, where a general grievance is borne with under the pre- tence of its being a pleasure. There are many grievances which must be borne with, and which it 1s consequently desirable to make the best of ; and there are others which fall heavily upon individuals, and yet conduce to the gene- ral good; but that a burden felt by all, and sincerely de- plored by the majority of those who bear it, should come not only to be submitted to, but apparently rejoiced in, is a phenomenon which exhibits so striking an instance of the self-mastery of woman, that one cannot sufficiently regret this exercise of her magnanimity not being devoted to a nobler cause. | The art of receiving guests agreeably, arranging them judiciously, and treating them so that every one shall feel perfectly at ease, is of more importance to the mistress of a house, than the display of her richest jewels, or her most studied accomplishments. Indeed, there is always this fact to be borne in mind with respect to society in general, that nothing which is merely an embellishment to ourselves, can, as regards its real value, bear the slightest proportion to that which affords gratification to others. The mistress of a house would do little for the enjoyment of her guests by being the most splendidly dressed, or even the most striking and distinguished person in her own drawing-room. TR ee ae ONT ee ak hte ee Nae ES Mey Sl Ss punta BPG MYA Som CAPR ak AaaeD ie tg hath ati Art) oa a OR LS 244 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. The probability is that half of them would go away speci if not openly, affronted. Her proper duty is to allow them an opportunity of shining, if they can; and in pursuance of this object, she will endeavour to make way for the dis- tinguished, as well as to bring forward the retiring... But more especially it is her part to be unobtrusively watchful of individual comfort, attentive to every. wish, moving ~ about from one to another without bustle or officiousness, and above all things taking care that the most insignificant are not neglected. She must do all this too with a perfect knowledge of what is in human nature, so as not to offend. while a ant to please; and with a perfect adapta- tion of herself. to the different characters of her guests, whose enjoyment for the evening must be in a great mea- sure at her disposal. . Thus the mistress of a house: may. attain the desirable object of having her visitors all pleased and satisfied, without any of them being aware how much of their gratification they owe to her; for lam supposing her one of those unselfish women, who when they go into company, are intent only upon the happiness of those around them, and who consequently escape the disap- pointment of having failed in their own persons to be either courted or slash Wee But there is a far different manner of visiting and re- ceiving visits from this, and I had almost. said—would that there were no other with which we had any thing to do! I mean where one or more friends—real friends, are invited by the mistress of a house to be for a short time the com- . panions of her fireside enjoyments, and as members of the same family, to partake in whatever may constitute its amusements or its privileges. Here then we find an appro- priate and ample field for the full development of those qualifications, whether natural or acquired, which are com- SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 945 bined in an agreeable companion ; for here are happily united, freedom for the exercise of truth, time for narrative, opportunity for confidence, resourse for intellect, occasion for pleasantry, recollections shared together, hopes mutually anticipated, and indeed any thing which an affectionate heart, and an enlightened understanding, can require for enjoyment. | What a luxury too it is for a married woman to feel such perfect identity with her husband in all he is, and in all he possesses, that her home, her books, her garden, seem to be her very own to place at the disposal of her friend; but greater than all, is the luxury of gathering into her bosom that fulness of delight, derived from ten thousand sources, yet all embodied in the simple feeling, that she has a home to offer. There is nothing in the joy of girlhood equal to this; and say what people will about marriage being the grave of friendship, I cannot think the wife is the person most to blame where it is so. Perhaps there is no blame at all, for I should rather think the fall- ing off of female friends might, in a great measure, be attributed to a natural shrinking on the side of the unmar- ried party, from admitting, as she supposes he must be, a man, and perhaps a stranger, into her confidence. There are, however, so very few men who care any thing at all about such confidence, who feel any curiosity to know what female friendship is composed of, or who even listen when its details are laid before them, that such an objection need scarcely be allowed to interfere with the freedom of inter- course, which constitutes one of the great privileges of friendship, and without which it must be little better than a name. Beyond this, too, there may be a little fault on the part of the unmarried friend, in attaching ideas of what is 246 : THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. interesting, exclusively to those unfamiliar scenes, and images of impossible perfection, which oceupy the mind of the romantic, or the highly imaginative, to the exclusion of what is real, practical, and true. Thus ‘the wife who really does her duty, is not unfrequently condemned by her female friends, as being a common-place, and perhaps a vulgar, or degenerate being. But could they really know what deep and thrilling interests are to her involved in this her duty, what high and burning zeal—what quench- less ardour—what enthusiasm, what feeling, are expended upon the avocations of each day, marked as they must be, by the ebb and flow of affection’s ceaseless tide. Could they see all this, how would they start astonished at their own mistake, in having supposed that the mere material elements upoh which the duties of a wife were exercised, were in themselves what constituted the reality of all the interest which she had in life. No; beyond these visible signs which tell of the-observance or neglect of duty, she has a life—a soul—a spiritual: existence, which comprises every thing between the wide extremes of happiness and wo; and if her early associates will not believe it, if they will withdraw themselves, and think, and say, that she is changed, it is because she regards all the intense and pro- found realities of the life she now leads, as too sacred to be unveiled even before the eye of friendship. But she is not changed: a warm true-hearted woman cannot change to those she has loved in early life, simply because her name, her home, and the occupations which fill up her time, are not the same. Affection in such a’ heart can never die: where it has once fixed, it will re- tain its hold; and if by force it should be shaken off, it will be like wrenching away a portion of the heart itself. If new ties are formed, it does not follow that the old ones Ce See Ren NN an Rh PCM rh: WANED SOUR AIA Seapine WA Ch, By, oy NE) NaN to ae RE RAM re I) SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 247 shall be broken. They rather grow into the soul from having been interwoven with its earliest affections, and if they are less observable in after life, it is only because they lie thesdeepest, and are consequently the most con- cealed. But to return to the subject of duty; in the act of en- tertaining her familiar friends, and particularly those who are younger than herself, the married woman may possibly Suppose that she enjoys only a pleasant recreation, by which the more serious business of life may be diversified with social amusement. But however much this might have been the case in her single state, it is so no longer; for as the mistress of a house, and the head of a family, she holds a relation to her young friends which is neces- sarily invested with a degree of authority, and for the use of this authority she is as a Christian woman accountable. Even if no attempt is made to use her influence, so as to give to the minds around her a bias either one way or an- other, some bias will necessarily be given by the general character of her establishment, and the tone of feeling by which her domestic and social affairs are regulated. Be- sides which, her young friends will naturally look to her to see what plans she wishes to adopt, and what principles it is her object to carry out, and their conduct will be regu- lated accordingly ; for whatever the degree of familiarity may be which exists between them, the rules which she has adopted for the government of her household, they will feel it an obligation strictly to observe. The mistress of a house too, will have an influence be- yond this, and one which is rarely enjoyed through any other medium of communication; for if she be one who ~ has-cultivated and embellished her own mind, storing up for the benefit of others all those means of being agreeable 248 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. which no woman ought to neglect, she will be the delight of her young friends as a fireside companion, and as such will share in all their moments of unrestrained vivacity, and unlimited freedom. Wy S Zi, The authority of teachers, and unfortunately sometimes that of parents too, extends only to those hours of disci- pline which are spent immediately under their care. Could any system of scholastic instruction be made to regulate without spoiling the sports of children, or could any means of influence be made to operate upon their play, what an amount of additional good might be effected in the formation of individual character! For how often is it found that the child who is taught, questioned, and examined by his masters, who answers freely and fluently on the points referred to, and who is ready and prompt as if his whole mind was there, is in reality but an actor performing his part in that august presence, from which the moment he is dismissed, his real character bursts forth in the playground, to be developed in an entire being as opposite to that which stood before the desk, as if they held no relation to each other! How often too, do we find that persons who appear staid and demure on serious occasions, are most objectionable companions in'their mirth ; while on the other hand, those whose mirth is innocent and pure, and guiltless of all taint from selfish or malignant feeling, may safely be trusted when they are in earnest. _ But the mistress of a family in the midst of her young friends enjoys the high privilege of giving a right tone to their enjoyments, and chastening the spirit of their mirth. That is, if she has so cultivated her own understanding as to know what belongs to nature, and to be able to adapt herself to it; for without this:power, she must ever be a stranger to the inner, and more important workings of the . -~aae t, la a io ) 0 oe oe ee eee Die Hie i VR ee ee eh ee Re Pee ee 8 CNS wm Ge Pe” eR Oi i ot eal iy a ica a ahs , cert Sg ik Be erg “~~ a,” « ‘ Ei ~e ' 2 ‘ i SOCIAL INFLUENCE. Q49 human heart. But if she has studied those accomplish- ments, which are particularly attractive to youth, and those. more important qualifications of mind and intellect which give superiority as well as interest. wherever they are found, she will be able to render the moments spent be- neath her roof the most privileged perhaps of a whole life- time—moments in which good impressions were rendered indelible as being accompanied by the most delightful as- sociations—moments retained within the richest treasury of memory, to be made the pattern of the choicest inter- course, and the highest intellectual communion through other chains of association, extending onwards from fami- ly to family, and from heart to heart, into a never-ending future. We see here the consequences which I have perhaps sufficiently dwelt upon, of having cultivated the art of being agreeable, not to shine in general society, as is too frequently the case ; not to establish any personal claim to admiration, merely to render striking and brilliant the intellectual companionship of a single hour, but to make the fireside circle a centre of attraction to which the young may love to resort; to render home the chosen spot of earth where all who are admitted within its social fellow- ship may delight to dwell, where hopes and joys may be shared together, and where all the thoughts most cherished and enjoyed, are such as tend towards a happier and a holier state of existence. Without having studied the cultivation of the mind, or. the embellishment of the character in general, how can the mistress. of a family throw around the scenes of home enjoyments this intellectual. and spiritual charm? How can she keep away the cloud of dulness, the monotony of common-place, the shadow of discontent, of which young 250 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. persons so often complain when visiting their ‘married friends ? and how, when her intercourse with them is marked by no lively or impressive character, can’ she expect that her influence over them will extend to what is lasting or good? It is impossible ; because it is not in the nature of the human heart to be thus influenced, without being thus impressed. To the married woman, then, it is a serious bas to have lost, by indolence or neglect, those golden. opportunities of being useful to society, which her position naturally places within her reach. For it. is not so much our private pre- cepts which have weight, and perhaps still Jess our public ones, so much as the influence of individual character upon a surrounding circle, and through. that binehe: upon the world at large. The English wife should, therefore, retepi her position as a central one, and remember that from her, as the head of a family, and the mistress of a household, branch off in every direction trains of thought, and tones of feeling, operating upon those more immediately around her, but by no means ceasing there; for each of her domestics, each of her relatives, and each of her familiar friends, will in their turn become the centre of another circle, from which will radiate good or evil influence extending onwards, in the same manner, to the end of all things—to the disrup- tion of all earthly ties, and the union of the great family of heaven, where sweet and harmonious notes of her own teaching may possibly be numbered with the Songs of the blessed for ever and for ever. Is it then a subject to be merely alinasihys over nae a careless wish that we could be useful to our fellow-crea- tures 1—that we could leave on the minds of those who will remember us when we are dead, some lasting impress wor- a SOCIAL. INFLUENCE. 251 thy of their high destiny, and ours? All may do this. Of that we are convinced. But are we equally or sufficiently convinced, that some impress will, and must be left, wheth- er we have desired it or not. And what if it should be such as to mark them out for wrath in the great day of wrath! And if that too should have spread, as the other might have done, on—on—from one circle and one gene- ration to another—from one family, one community, one people, one country, widening on every hand until the world itself should suffer from the universal taint ! The carrying out of such a thought to its. full extent, is too tremendous, and. yet we know of no natural limits by which influence, either good or evil, can be confined or ar- rested in its progress towards eternity. We can only ask with penitence and prayer, that what we have hitherto exercised amiss, may be overruled for good, and that what we have yet to exercise, may be directed by him who alone can give the power to use it for his glory. There are many cases of practical duty, in which it Seems as if the language of Scripture had, by general consent, been explained away as referring to times and circumstances in which we have no part. In none is this more striking, than as regards hospitality, few of us con- sidering ourselves at all the more required, from any thing we meet with there, when we prepare a feast, to call in the poor,.or the friendless to partake... Without pretending to be wiser than others, by applying these and similar in- junctions more literally than they appear to be generally understood, it seems to me a question of deep importance to a serious mind, whether we are not many of us required to go much further than we do, in extending our hospitality to those who, according to the usages of the world, may appear to have but little claim upon such attentions. 252 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. There is an extensive class of persons, who, if we would do to them as we would that others should do to us under similar circumstances, instead of being objects of general neglect, would become objects of our especial kindness in this respect. I mean those who are separated from their own home-connections by becoming assistants in business, or otherwise attached to families in which they are comparatively strangers. It cannot be denied that a system of ospitaligg thus carried out towards persons so circumstanced, or according to the Scripture rule of inviting those who cannot ask us in return, would require the exercise of considerable self- denial; as well as benevolence ; and more especially so with those whose homes are the centre and the source of their greatest happiness they enjoy ; for it is perhaps the only disadvantage accompanying an excess of this home-feel- ing, that the more perfect is the satisfaction with which, we gather into the domestic circle, the Jess willingness we feel that a stranger should ‘ intermeddle with tts joys,’ Thus we sometimes find a sort of household exclusive- ness, and a too great concentration of domestic satisfaction, prevailing almost to the extent of selfishness, where such feelings are indulged without the restraint of judgment or of principle. To persons infected with this home-mania, their own houses, their own grounds, their own habits, and their own modes of thinking and living’ are always the very best imaginable, and such as bear no comparison” with those of any other family. So much is this the case, that they seem almost to be a law unto themselves ; while above every thing they reject the idea of being improved by adopting the views and practices of others. It is need- less to say that such persons have little weight to throw — into the scale of social influence either on the side of good , SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 253° or evil, for the absurdities they exhibit to the world, ef- fectually prevent their doing any considerable amount of harm beyond what is negative. But there are degrees of this evil, against which we may not all be sufficiently on our guard, because we may be mistaking it for good, yet when it stands in the way of our practising the duty of hospitality, we should ask our- selves seriously whether that home which ought to be the scene of our greatest earthly happiness, is not in reality the temple of our worship. A higher cultivation of the feel- ings of kindness and benevolence towards others, a deeper sympathy for their trials and sufferings, a more earnest ‘solicitude for their welfare, and a greater desire to impart the blessings we enjoy, would I am persuaded tend very much to reconcile us to any temporary interruption of our domestic: enjoyments, which might be occasioned by the — presence of a stranger, even should his habits and modes of thinking be the most dissimilar to our own. And if any thing could be done by this means to improve the minds and morals of that important class of society who will con- stitute the next generation of men of busmess—men who will give the weight of extensive influence either to the side of good, or evil, that strong feeling of household. ex- clusiveness which is but a refined and extended selfishness, ought certainly in some measure to give way. We complain of the habits of young men, and with some cause, yet when we recollect of what materials hu- man nature is composed, and compare these with the situa- tion of young men generally ; but more especially when we think of the thousand inviting avenues to sin which are opened to their-choice, the cordiality with which they are met by evil associates, and invited to every rendezvous of vice; and when we compare this with the very little cor- 12 poise ata 254 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. diality they meet with on the opposite side; the scanty — welcomes, the cold notice, and the treatment equally dis- tant and disrespectful, we surely must expect them to be more than human, wholly to withstand the one, and to bind themselves over with lasting and warm attachment to Ae . other. ee Young men, too, are often diffident of ee own attrac-_ 3 tions in polished society, and sometimes not. without con- siderable reason, more especially, when they find themselves treated in respectable company with every demonstration of contempt. Here, then, we must also remember that vice. is not delicate in her distinctions. In her wide halls of revelry, the ignorant, the mean, and the unlettered find a welcome. She shghts them not for want of polished man- ners. She heeds neither personal inferiority, nor unfash- ionable attire. All—all are welcome, from the raw strip- ling, to the friendless stranger, who finds not in dias spnces world another or a safer home. . In contemplating this view of the subject, I have ies thought, what an amount of good might ‘be effected, if a - Jittle more attraction were held out by Christians in general, towards persons of this class. We ought seriously to ques- tion, too, whether we are really doing them justice— whether we are not resting too well satisfied in merely urging upon them the necessity of attention to publie wor- ship, when a few more welcomes into Christian families might possibly do more for their real good, than many sermons without participation in ips real —— oF any respectable home. ‘ie ry : Nor is it the mere invitation of such. persons at sesbal Say times, which can effect the good so much required, the — mere bestowment of @ dinner, or the mere permission to come on Sundays and be present during the hours of family t St Hee li ra lla tt ties I SN a ee i ae iO A a . ae ee, ‘nee ‘< he Wee ty Cee ee Nghe SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 255 devotion. Good as this unquestionably is, there is some- thing else required; and this something should be supplied by the mistress of the house; for, I repeat, that to woman all the common usages of kindness are so easy and fami- liar, as to leave her little excuse for neglecting the claims of hospitality. which constitute so essential a part of social duty. There is much kind feeling conveyed even by so slight an act as a cordial shake of the hand, but especially by those apparently slight observations upon personal af- fairs, which evince an interest in the situation and cir- cumstances of a guest, and which often lead to a freedom of communication which, as a means of influence, may be turned to the happiest account. In all associations in which the feelings and affections are concerned, it must never be forgotten, that the manner in which an act of benevolence is done, is often of far greater importance than the act itself—That it 1s possible to be kind in an unkind manner; to give a great deal away, and yet be most ungenerous. This truth we have many of us at some time or other of our lives, had to feel perhaps too keenly for our peace. Yet it is possible the thought of what such kindness cost us, may prove a whole- some one in its effect upon our own conduct towards others, by teaching us how to soothe, where through igno- rance we might have wounded ; how to attract where we might have repelled; and consequently how to do good, where we might inadvertently have done evil. But it is useless to think of the manner, until we have seen the act itself to be a duty; and I would here appeal to the wives of England, as they value the good of their country, and the good of their sons and brothers—as they value youth in general, and regard it as the season for re- membering our Creator, and the Giver of all our bless- PEt li kane WA nC Lab Maan niin UNM Rie eno a Magy obi ca anes Ose is SEER ISTO vac DE ROnER ae NERS De RLS Sharan ae. mena SE eg i = I" ; ty ee St. gee ND 256 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. ings—as they would cherish its buoyant hopes, strengthen its high capabilities, and Jay an imperishable foundation of good, where evil must otherwise enter and occupy the vacant room—as they value all these considerations, I would urge them not to confine their social kindness merely to those who can requite them after their own man- ner; but to extend it to those who, though comparatively strangers, share in the affections and the feelings ofa com- mon nature, and who are now undergoing the formation of their characters for time and for eternity. oes “Not following lower. things,”—was a noble motto adopted by a noble queen,* when she chose as emblemati- cal of the course she intended to pursue, a marigold turn- ” ing tothe sun. Although nothing could be more at vari- ance with the duties of a wife, and especially one of that class of society to which this work more especially applies, than to be aspiring after any selfish or personal aggrandise- ment as regards mere sublunary things; there is an ambi- tion, if I may call it such, which ought to fill the heart, and rouse the energies of every Christian woman who stands at the head of a household, whatever her position may be with regard to outward circumstances. — I refer to that aspiration after higher and holier things, which lifts the soul out-of its grovelling anxieties and worldly cares, and directs its hopes unchangeably towards the world which is eternal. It is not consistent with the aim of the writer in such a work as this, to enter fully upon the subject of that change of heart which alone can qualify for forming any just or proper estimate of what belongs to a preparation for the heavenly state. Had such been my intention, I would not have left the consideration of so momentous and sublime a theme, to the last few pages of this work. - But leaving * Marguarite of Valois, sister of Francis I. and Queen of Navarre. _ SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 257 this subject in its vastness and its depth—its absorbing in- terests, and its solemn truths, to writers of a higher and a weightier character, I would still indulge a hope that what has here been said may in some degree assist towards a more full. and satisfactory exemplification of the Christian character. For even where religion is felt and owned to be the one thing needful, and where it is adopted as the principle and the rule of life, those familiar avocations which occupy the attention of every day are not always con- ducted in the spirit which ought to regulate the Christian’s life. Some good persons err on these points from ignor- ance, some from want of thought, and many from not re- garding them as essential to religion; and thus the standard of excellence is lowered, and we come to be “satisfied with inferior things.” It would as ill become me, as it would be contrary to my feelings, to speak in an unkind or censorious spirit of those who, with good intentions, and while making great endeavours, fall short in little things; but I am convinced that along with this deficiency, there is, to a certain extent, a tendency to aim at what is low, sufficient of itself to pre- vent the attainment of what is great. The more circum- scribed our influence, the less this tendency is seen and felt ; but when we take the direction of a household, and conse- quently have much to do with the formation of the charac- ters around us, this tendency to grovel tells to an amazing and incalculable extent. It is far from my wish to write on this subject as one who has neither knowledge nor feeling of what wives in general have to struggle with, in the way of depressing or degrading circumstances. I know that the occupations of a household, by reminding us perpetually of what is mate- rial, have a strong tendency to occupy the mind with that Te Bate VEO RS a ERNE iach aaa Mata at ae soo 258 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. alone. Iknow that under wasted health, or weariness, or disappointment, to be urged to struggle after what is high, sounds like a mockery to the human heart. And I know — too that there are trials in the lot of woman, almost suffi- cient of themselves to quench the very life within her soul, and to extinguish there the power to hope for any thing be- fore the grave. I know that the spirit may be harassed — wounded—broken ; but Iam yet to learn, that under any circumstances we are justified in giving all things up.» I should rather reason thus—that having striven after excellence in every department, we have ‘so multiplied our recourses, that something always must. be left; so that if nothing in the shape of positive happiness could ever reach us more, we should still be capable of adding to the hap- piness of others. : But the most powerful and widely prevailing ‘cause of that moral and intellectual degradation—that downward tendency of the mind, and that grovelling of the spirit amongst material things, which is so much to be lamented over in the wives of the present day, arises clearly and un- questionably out of the false estimate so universally formed of what is most to be desired—nay of what is absolutely essential to existence. It is this vain and fruitless ambition with regard to worldly things, in which we are all more or less engaged, that wears down our energies, and wearies out our hopes, It is the disappointment, the perplexity, the harass of this long struggle, which leaves us so. spirit- less and worn. It is the emptiness of our success when the highest worldly wish has been attained, which makes us, in the midst of all our coveted possessions so miserably poor. It is difficult to speak strongly on these subjects, yet with that kindness and respect which I feel that my coun- trywomen deserve, and deserve especially from me. But. SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 259 when Lassert again that it is not intention which is in fault, so much as acertain set of mistaken views, which more or less affect us all, I would fondly hope 1 might obtain their forgiveness for being more than commonly earnest in so important a cause. In this hope I appeal to their own hearts, whether the daily conflict they are many of them enduring is not in reality after that which ‘perisheth in the using ;? whether it ever brings them a reward at. all commensurate with what it costs; and whether it is not in itself.a weariness:to the very soul. . I appeal to society at large, whether the importance we many of us attach to appearing well before the world, in other words, to dress- ing and living in a-certain style, has not irritated more tempers, destroyed more peace, occasioned more disputes, broken more spirits, crossed more love, hindered more im-~ provement, and caused more spiritual declension, than any other single cause which could be named. And what has it done to throw into the opposite scale? Encouraged one kind of manufactory to the disadvantage of. another, changed. our fashions, excited our vanity, furnished our houses, decked our persons—and what then? Sent us forth into society, envied and envying one another, and dissemi- nating wherever we might go, low thoughts, disparaging allusions, and uncharitable feelings, all arising out of the very rivalry and competition of which this fruitless ambi- tion was the source. Let us look at one channel only amongst the many thousands through which it operates to the destruction of human happiness, and the disunion of natural ties. It is no poet’s fable, and I spealk it reverently, believing what I speak, when J say, that the love which grows up between two young people who expect to spend their lives together, is of every earthly feeling that which most endears to us all 260 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. which is most excellent in itself, most beautiful in the cre- ation, and most beneficent in the dispensations of an all- wise and eternal God. Who then would quench this feel- ing, or lower its exercise, or make it a mere slave to wait upon the customs of the world? The voice of humanity exclaims against so base, so foolish a perversion of our na- ture.. Youth exclaims against it, as well it may. Society —the world exclaims. The world 2 No, that can never be. It is the world whose unrelenting voice demands this sacrifice—the world before whose artificial glare the star of love must hide its purer ray. , Soa It is because the world is the great altar upon which the hearts of multitudes are laid, that the shrine of domes- tic happiness so often is profaned by broken vows—vows broken in the spirit, and therefore the mere symbols of a love, without its sweetness or its life. It is because the spirit of the world demands that. we should love and serve the mammon of unrighteousness, that hearts are bought and sold, and youth is wedded to old age, and every mock- ery of feeling which imagination can conceive, iS. perpe- trated under the grave name of. prudence... L-have myself advocated prudence, and I have urged the necessity of waiting for what are popularly considered as sufficient. means. Yet this has been chiefly. in conformity with the universal system. we acknowledge of “ regarding lower things.” I did not, and I never shall, believe the system is a right one in itself; but until our views. are more en-. lightened, and our principles are strong enough to support us in the effort, it would be worse than folly to advise that individuals here and there should overstep the bounds of prudence as they are now laid down, not knowing what they did.z — ea ; Bas vag Rae oa The new order of things which I would advocate FO oe A ees PE ee Oh SR a: RRA NE ST REA ee ae A is wt bin < . i e i : SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 261 must be a general one, brought about by simultaneous views, and feelings, and determinations. There will then be no world to fear, for. we shall constitute ourselves a world, in which lower things are no longer regarded, except as such—a world in which the warmest feelings of the heart will no longer be considered as bearing any comparison in value, with the cold formalities of artificial life—a world in which what we wear, and what we use, shall no longer be esteemed as more important than what we do—a world in which people shall be judged of by what they are, and not by what they possess—a world in which what is costly and -brilliant in ornament, shall give place to that which is excellent in character, and ster- ling in value. : And when shall this bright epoch arrive 7—this dawn- ing of better hopes—this day of promise for our country, and our homes? It will arrive when the wives of Eng- land shall hold themselves above their circumstances ; and estimating that» most highly, which is really high, shall understand how principle is the basis of all good; and having subjected theirs to the will of God, and tried them by the only test which is safe and true, they may then adorn the superstructure by all which the purest taste, and the most chastened feeling can suggest. In adopting the motto of one of the most amiable and accomplished of female sovereigns, we must not forget that hers was the pursuit of excellence of almost every kind ; in her studies, her attainments, and in all those graces of mind and person which adorn a court. Nor do I see why the raising of our highest admiration to that which is high- est in itself, should in any respect interfere with our desire after excellence in general. It is a melancholy thought, that when marriage has 962 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. united the destiny of two human beings for this life at least, one of them should grow indifferent to those quali- ties of mind and person which formed the chief attraction to the other. It is a melancholy thought, that when a wife has taken upon herself the duties which belong to the mistress of a family, she should be willing to lose those charms which constitute the loveliness of woman. It isa melancholy thought, that because she has become a useful, she must cease to be an intellectual, being. But it can- not—it must not be. The very thought is one of treason against the love and the happiness of married life; for what is there amongst all the embellishments of female character, which his: love cannot legitimately appropriate, and this happiness enhance and improve ? 3 In no other situation in life, can woman find’so nitaie ble a sphere for the exercise of every grace, and ‘the dis- play of every charm, as in the centre of her home enjoy~ ments ; yet here, how often do we find that she permits all the poetry of her mind to be extinguished, and after that, the beautiful too often fades away. Life may remain the same to her in all its tangible realities, but as the sun- shine passes from the landscape, so the light which gave. freshness and vividness to every object around her i Is gone for ever. It is said that she has actual and pressing cares which absorb her attention to the exclusion of other, and espe- cially of higher, thoughts. But here again is her mistake. It is not in woman’s nature to be degraded or brought down by care, provided only the objects of her solicitude are worthy in themselves, or such as call forth feelings worthy of being indulged.” The care—the love—the brooding faaernitis of a fond mother, or a faithful wife— when, I would ask, was woman found the worse for these ? SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 263 It is the element in which she lives, to care for those she loves. It is in this element that all her virtues rise and shine; while her whole character assumes a higher and more spiritual excellence. We talk of altered circum- stances, and personal privations, but we libel the true heart of woman when we think it cannot stand the shock of such extremes as these. No, these are not the foes she fears ; and it is an insult to her understanding when society per- suades her that she does fear them. Within her heart of hearts she has a nobler conviction, that her husband’s hap- piness, and her own integrity and truth, are more to her than all the riches in the world. Why, then, with these convictions, and with that strong capability which she pos- sesses of rising above the tide of circumstance, and living apart from worldly things in the higher world of her affec- tions—why ‘will woman stoop to’ be*the slave of habit, of custom, and, most of all, of fashion, until her vanity and self-indulgence become the bane of man’s existence, and her own ? And is it well that men whose daily avocations neces- sarily call into exercise, as one of their great principles of action, a worldly and a selfish spirit—is it right that they should be urged—nay, goaded on in the perpetual race of personal and family aggrandisement, by those who profess to love them, and who consequently ought to seek their ul- timate and real good? May we not rather leave to them the whole adjustment of these worldly matters. It is their business, and their duty, to find a place among their fel- low-men, to establish a footing in society, and to maintain it by all just and honourable means. This is no care of woman’s. Her appropriate part is to adorn that station wherever it may be, by a contented mind, an enlightened intellect, a chastened spirit, and an exemplary life. ta >See 4 a. ee ee ete eee Se ie wht pre ae i Tare ee oe a ie, fC ee a, oh le er ere Ce ae ee ee ae ee a ea ie! 5 roe i a en 0h es ; sh gaat haya SY 8 itt es eae 264 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. I have dwelt much upon the influence of woman in social and domestic life, and in her married state she will find that influence extending almost on every hand. Whale” then, will be her situation, without the aid of personal reli- gion to give a right direction to its operation upon other minds? But what will be her situation altogether, with- out this aid? The thought is too appalling. c ‘* A boat set forth to sail alone At midnight on a moonless sea, 7 might bear some comparison to the situation of a solitary being trusting herself upon the world’s great ocean, with- out this guide; but a richly freighted vessel crowded with human beings, and bearing in its bosom the interests of as many souls, yet venturing out to sea without a pilot, with- out a compass—without any hope or means of safety, might with more justice be compared to the woman who should dare to engage in the deep responsibilities of mar- ried life, without religion to direct her course. Whatever difficulties may be thus encountered, she cannot meet them alone. Whatever dangers, others are drawn into share _ them with her. Whatever storms, she braves them only at the peril of the precious lives committed to her trust. Whatever rock she strikes upon, it wrecks not her alone, but all—all the rich treasury of hopes and interests which she bears along with her in that presumptuous course, and for all these she is accountable. T repeat, the thought is too appalling. Let us turn to scenes of more familiar oc- currence, where there is more satisfaction, because there is more hope. ae Des na eh There is a large class of persons, who without having given up their hearts entirely to the influence of personal religion, are wishing that they could do so, and intendin SE See ‘ ia img sia tes = et ae Soe 2 _ ES i mit SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 265 some time or other that they will. On all solemn occa- sions they feel as if they actually would; and never more so perhaps than when they enter upon the duties of mar- ried life. To woman this is so great and important a change, that it naturally produces, if any thing can, trains of reflection highly favourable to an altered and improved state of mind altogether; and if she has ever seriously thought of religion, she does so then. Those who rest satisfied with good intentions, and especially in religious matters, are glad of any alteration in their circumstances which they think will make it easier to begin, and they hail the opening of a new life, as the entrance upon one which will be more exemplary than the past. Thus it is often with perfect sincerity, that the young religious pro- fessor believes she will set out upon a new career, when engaging in the duties of a wife. Her feelings are much softened too, by separation from her former friends; she fears the difficulties of an untried path; and thus is alto- gether more disposed than ever, to do, and to be, what she sees clearly to be right. If under these circumstances she has married a good man, her first temptation will be to think, for that reason, that she must be good herself—if a man who has little or no religion, her first trial will be, to find that instead of being helped, as she had expected, so smoothly on her own way, she has, in addition to her own difficulties, to help him, and all his household. But a more familiar temptation, and a more frequent trial, than either of these, is that tendency to worldly-mind- edness which steals by its insidious nature into the very heart of domestic life, and works the more deceitfully by mixing itself up with all that is most reputable and most approved in society in general, and not less than others, in the society of the good. 266 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. Persons of this description in all probability seek the acquaintance of the well-meaning young wife, or she seeks _ theirs, and being a sincere and somewhat hopeful char-. acter, not having much foundation of her own, but easily led on by others, she is induced by their companionship to __ take a higher standing in religious matters than she ever did before. Encouraged by their kindness, she advances step by step, progressing outwardly, and gaining confi- dence as she goes on. All this, perhaps, might be well, for she is still sincere so far as her self-knowledge extends; — bnt here again the spirit of the world creeps in. Indeed, the question is, whether she has not all the while been acutuated by the spirit of the world, for it is now so re- putable to be religious, that temptation can assume this form as well as any other. 3 With this advance in an outward, and perhaps too visible profession, the cares of the young wife increase. The circle of her acquaintance widens. Visits and morning calls are not to be neglected, and well if they are not de- voted to the most dctiolals of all kinds of gossip, which chooses the ministers, and the observances of a religious life, for its theme. But in addition to this, the young wife listens to the popular and common talk about low worldly things. She learns to think much of her furniture, much of her dress, and much of the manner in which she entertains her friends. Nay, she is even glad to see that all this competition does not appear to be dis- carded from the religious world. As time passes on, she becomes more and more absorbed by the growing cares, and thickening perplexities, of every day; until at last it might be a matter of doubt with those around her, which —in reality occupied her thoughts the mostthe prepara- tion for a party, or the preparation for eternity. 7 ; SOCIAL INFLUENCE. 267 _ Need we wonder that such a woman has little religious influence ? that she fails to adorn the doctrine of her Sav- lour, or to commend the faith which she professes? Need we wonder that her husband, her servants, society at large, are not made better by her conversation, and her example ? Yet, strange to say, it is sometimes wondered at that the religious conversation of such persons does not do good, and they themselves, when they have leisure for it, will Jabour diligently for the conversion of the poor. But they forget that those around them, and especially the poor, are quick-sighted to their inconsistencies, and that they know by other evidence than words, when the world is really in the heart.” By this slight picture, far be it from me to convey an idea that | would represent the really changed in heart ; for I know that theirs is a foundation which none of these things move. I speak of those who have been only almost persuaded, and who on the solemn occasion of their mar- riage, have set out in life with serious views, and good in- tentions ; yet whatever may be the clearness of those views, or the strength of those intentions, J believe that a greater number of hopeful beginnings have been frustrated by this single root of evil—this spirit of the world, than by any other; I believe also that more spiritual declension amongst women may be traced to the same cause, than to all the vice and to all the infidelity to be met with amongst the openly profane. It is then against this single enemy above all others, that married women have to sustain each other in waging constant and determined war. I repeat, it is hard—too hard for any single individual to struggle against the tide of popular feeling, more especially when religion numbers in her ranks so many who divide her claims with those of the ee oa 268 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND, 4 world. But if the happiness of home be precious, we have = that at stake. If our intellectual and moral good be worth — _ preserving, we have that to cherish. Ifour religious influence be the most important treasure committed to our charge, we have that to hold secure. All to which the best feelings of theheart attach themselves as lovely and enduring is ours, if in maintaining this conflict we are but faithful to our- selves, and to the high and sacred trust committed to our care. | | THE END. ee ee ee VALUABLE & IMPORTANT BOOKS PUBLISHED BY D. APPLETON & CO., FOR SALE AT THEIR Ll Bere he Act YY... Kev Pe OR” ete Ve 200 Broadway, New-York. PICTORIAL LIFE OF NAPOLEON. History of Napoleon Bonaparte, translated from the French of M. Laurent de L’Ardeche, with five hundred spirited illustrations, afterdesigns by Horace Vernet, aud twenty original portraits engraved in the best style. Complete in two handsome volumes, octavo, about five hundred pages each. This LirE or NaPpo.eon, which is now offered to the public, is built up and composed from the satwe original authorities as those consulted by previous historians and biographers; with the assistan@, also, of the substantive works of the latter, and of all] important works since published, or now in course of publication. From careful abstracts and references ; from a dispassionate balancing of the single and collective facts, statements, opinions and conjectural probabilities, occasionally found im direct opposition among authorities of equal influence and validity, the author has sought to attain a fixed equilibrium of general truth. It has not been attempted to give a History of France in the stormy time of the Revolution, or in the successive periods of the Directory, the Consulate, or the Empire. The violent feelings of the English public having now passed away, a period has already commenced far the exercise of a temperate judgment. The author has also endeavoured not to forestall time, broach theories, or dispense censure or praise.- The deep-searching and far-spreading investigations, inte which an attempt to form an opinion concerning the consequences and results of his actions would lead. could not be undertaken without a comprehensive study and voluminous exposition of the moral a political world and its various mutations ; they consequently form no part of the present design. PICTORIAL ROBINSON CRUSOE. The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, by DANIEL DE For, with a Memoir of the Author, and an Essay on his Writings, illustrated with three hundred spirited Engravings by the celebrated French artist GRANDVILLE, forming one elegant volume, octavo, of 500 pages. ‘© Was there ever any thing written by mere man that the reader wished longer, except Robinson Crusoe, Don Quixotte, and the Pilgrim’s Progress ?”—Dr. Johnson. “ How happy that this, the most moral of romances, is not only the most charming of books, but the most instructive.”— A. Chalmers. : “No fiction in any language was ever better supported than these Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.” —Dr. Blair. “ Crusoe has obtained a ready passport to the mansions of the rich, and the cottages of the poor, and communicated equal delight to all ranks and classes of the community. Few works have been more generally read, or more justly admired ; few that have yielded such incessant amusement, and, at the same time, have de~eloped so many lessons of practical instruction.”—Sir W. Scott. PICTORIAL VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. The Vicar of Wakefield, By OLIvER GoLpsMITH, elegantly illustrated with 108 Engravings, making a beautiful volume, octavo, of about 350 pages. “This tale is the lasting monument of Goldsmith’s genius, his great legacy of pleasure to genera tions past, present, and to come.”—LEzaminer. : z ; « Goldsmith, both in verse and prose, was one of the most delightful writers in the language. Hiv verse flows like a limpid stream. His ease is quite unconscious. Every thing in him is spontaneons unstudied, unaffected, yet elegant, harmonious, graceful, and nearly faultless.”—Hazlitt. GEMS FROM TRAVELLERS. Illustrative of various passages in Holy Scripture, with nearly one hundred exquisite Engravings Among the authorities quoted will be found the following distinguished names: Harmer, Laborde, Lane, Madden, Clarke, Pococke, Chandler, Malcom, Hartley, Russell, Jowitt, Carne, Shawe, Mo rier, Neibuhr, Bruce, Calmet, H. Blunt, Belzoni, Lord Lindsay, &c. &c. This exquisite volume, so beautiful as an ornament to the centre table, will assist to a clearer percep- tion of the beauty, propriety, and truth of the Holy Soripture, than any other w. rk ever published. 2 9 | , D. APPLETON & CO’S INCIDENTS OF A WHALING VOYAGE. To which is added Observations :n the Scenery, Manners, and Customs, and Missionary Stations o the Sandwich and Society Islands, accompanied by numerous plates. By Francis ALLYN OLM: STED. One handsome volume, 12mo. } The various publications before the public, illustrating our marine and naval history, have never, we believe, as yet entered into the minutiz of a whaling voyage—a whale ship, its equipments, di cipline, and course of operations in the internal economy and varied contingencies,—until the appea ance of the present volume, by one who has some pretensions to science, both in the philosophy of nature and education. The work indeed only presents the events of a single voyage, but is blended with so much of incidental history, abounding in facts relative to the Islands of the Pacific, the Mis- sionary stations there, and the effects of civilization upon the untutored natives of the South, together with the illustrations of the whale fishery, as to embody a mass of intelligence, imteresting to the ordinary reader as well as t» the philosophical inquirer. The author is a son of Professor Olmsted, of Yale College, who, in the pursuit of health, in a long voyage, has noted the observations to which we refer."—.NV. Y. Courter. ‘ MRS. AUSTIN’S GERMAN WRITERS. Fragments from German Prose Writers, translated by Mrs. Austin. Illustrated with Biographical and Critical Notes. 1 vol. 12mo. Elegantly printed on fine white paper. “Those who wish to close a book with the comfortable feeling that no new idea has-been suggested, and no old one Gisturbed, will regard this as very questionable praise ; but those who read in order to be made to think, will, I hope, derive some satisfaction from the fragments thus thrown together. The choice of these passages has been determined by considerations as various as their character and their subjects. In some it was the value of the matter, in others the beauty of the form that struck me ; in some the vigorous, unaffected good sense, 1n others the fantastic and mystical charm. Some re- called familiar trains of thought which meet us in a foreign literature like old friends im a far country, others altogether new and strange.”— Vide Preface. THE NATURAL HISTORY OF SOCIETY, IN THE BARBAROUS AND CIVILIZED STATE. — An Essay towards discovering the Origin and Course of Human Improvement. By W. Cooke Tay- Lor, LL.D., &c., of Trinity College, Dublin. Handsomely printed on fine paper. 2 vols. 12mo. «“ A most able work, the design of which is to determine from an examination of the various forms in which society has been formed, what was the origin of civilization, and under what circumstances those attributes of humanity, which in one country become the foundation of social happiness, and another Perverted to the production of general misery. For this purpose the author has separate examined the principal elements by which society, under all its aspects, is held together, and traced each to its source in human nature. He has then directed attention to the development of these prin- ciples, and pointed out the circumstances by which they were perfected on the one hand, or corrupted on. the other.’’ “We perceive by the preface that the work has had throughout the superintendence of the very learned Archbishop Whately.”—Literary Gazette. PALMER’S TREATISE ON THE CHURCH. A TREATISE ON THE CHURCH OF CHRIST. Designed chiefly for the use of Students in Theology By the Rev. William Palmer, M. A., of Worcester College, Oxford. Edited, with Notes, by th ! Right Rev. W. R. Whittingham, D.D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Dioceses of Maryland. 2 vols. 8vo., handsomely printed on fine paper. , ‘The treatise of Mr. Palmer is the best exposition and vindication of Church Principles, that we have ever read; excelling contemporaneous treatises in depth of learning and solidity of judgment as much as it excels older treatises on the like subjects in adaptation to the wants and habits of the age. Of its influence in England, where it has passed through two editions, we have not the means to form an opinion; but we believe that in this country it has already, even before its reprint, done more to restore the sound tone of Catholic principle and feeling than any other one work of the age. The author’s learning and powers of combination and arrangement, great as they obviously are, are less remarkable than the sterling good sense, the vigorous and solid judgment, which is everywhere manifest in the treatise, and confers on it its distinctive excellence. ‘The style of the author is distinguished for dig. nity and masculine energy, while his tone is everywhere natural ; on proper occasions, reverential and always, so far as we remember, sufficiently conciliatory. 4 - “To our clergy and intelligent laity who desire to see the Church justly discriminated from Roman= ists on the one hand, and dissenting denominations on the other, we earnestly commend PALMER’S. TREATISE ON THE CHuRCH.”—N. Y. Churchman. i HARE’S PAROCHIAL SERMONS. Sermons to a Country Congregation. By Augustus William Hare, A.M. late Fellow of New Cohegey and Rector of Alton Barnes. — 1 vol. royal 8vo. “q *«« Any one who can be pleased with delicacy of thought expressed in the most simple language— any one who can feel the charm of finding practical duties elucidated and enforced by apt and vari ilustrations— will be delighted with this volume, which presents us with the workings of a pious a highly-gifted mind.”—Quarterly Review. 7 # t : VALUABLE PUBLICATIONS. 3 MAGEE ON ATONEMENT AND SACRIFICE. Discourses and Dissertations on the Scriptural Doctrines of Atonement and Sacrifice, and on the Prin * cipal Arguments advanced, and the Mode of Reasoning employed by the Opponents of those doo- trines, as held by the Established Church. By the late Most Rev. William Magee, D.D., Archbishop i’ of Dublin. 2 vols. royal 8vo., beautifully printed. “This is one of the ablest ential and polemical works of modern times. Archbishop Magee is truly a malleus hereticulum. He is an excellent scholar, an acute reasoner, and is possessed of a most extensive acquaintance with the wide field of argument to which his volumes are devoted—the pro- feund Biblical information on a variety of topics which the Archbishop brings forward, must endear his name to all lovers of Cliistianity.”’— Orme. DEVOTIONAL LIBRARY. The greatest care is taken in selecting the works of which this collection is com- posed. EHach volume is printed on the finest paper, elegantly ornamented, and bound in a superior manner, and uniform in size. Bishop Doane says of this collection, ‘‘ 1 write to express my thanks to you for reprints of the Oxford Books ; first, for such books, and secondly, in such a, style. I sincerely hope you may be encouraged to go on, and give them all to us. You will dignify the art of printing, and you will do great service to the best interest of the country. In a letter received from Bishop Whittingham, he says, ‘I had forgotten to state my very great satisfaction at your commencement of a series of Devo- tional Works, lately republished in Oxford.” The publishers beg to state while in so short a time this library has increased to so many volumes, they are encou- raged to make yet larger additions, and earnestly hope it may receive all the encouragement it deserves, The following volumes have already appeared : THE EARLY ENGLISH CHURCH. Or Christian History of England in early British, Saxon, and Norman Times. By the Rev. Edward Churton, M.A. With a Preface by the Right Rev. Bishop Ives. 1 vol. 16mo. elegantly ornamented LEARN TO DIE. Disce Mori, Learn to Die: a Religious Discourse, moving every Christian man to enter into a serious Remembrance of his End. By Christopher Sutton, D.D., late Prebend of Westminster. 1 vol. 16mo., elegantly omameuted. SACRA PRIVATA: The Private Meditations, Devotions, and Prayers of the Right Rev. T. Wilson, D.D., Lord Bishop of Soder and Man. First complete edition. 1 vol. royal 16mo., elegantly ornamented. 4 MEDITATIONS ON THE SACRAMENT. an Meditations upon the most Holy Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. By Christopher Sutton, ., late Prebend of Westminster. 1 vol. royal 16mo., elegantly ornamented. HEART’S EASE; Or a Remedy against all Troubles, WITH A CONSOLATORY DISCOURSE, Particularly addressed to those who have lost their friends and dear relations. By Symon Patrick, D.D., sometime Lord Bishop of Ely. 1 vol. royal 16mo., elegantly ornamented. A DISCOURSE CONCERNING PRAYER And the frequenting Daily Public Prayers. By Symon Patrick, D.D., sometime Loré Bishop of Ely, Edited by Francis E, Paget, M.A., Chaplain to the Lord Bishop of Oxford. 1 vol. royal 16mo., ele- gantly ornamented. THOUGHTS IN PAST YEARS. A beautiful collection of Poetry, chiefly Devotional. By the Author of ‘‘The Cathedral.” 1 vol royal 16mo., elegantly printed. *.* These volumes will be followed by others of equal importance. 4 D. APPLETON & CO’S : SCHLEGEL’S PHILOSOPHY OF HISTORY. The Philosophy of History, in a course of Lectures delivered at Vienna, by FREDERICK VON SCHLE- ei QEL, translated from the German, with a Memoir of the Author, by J. B. ROBERTSON. Handsomely” printed on fine paper. 2 vols. 12mo. “4 masterly production—written in that flowing, , school. In fact, diligent investigation, accurate discernment, sound judgment and elegant taste, will be found employed in every page. Our readers may rely upon our word that a perusal of these pages — will yield them an ample harvest of pleasure and advantage.”— Quarterly Review. THE LIFE OF ALEXANDER HAMILTON. Edited by his son, John C. Hamilton. 2 vols. royal 8vo. “We cordially recommend the perusal and diligent study of these volumes, exhibiting, as they do, — much valuable matter relative to the Revolution, the establishment of the Federal Constitution, and ~ other important events in the annals of our country.”—New- York Review. THE METROPOLITAN PULPIT; @x Sketches of the most Popular Preachers in London. By the author of Random Recollections, The Great Metropolis, &c. &c. 1 vol. 12mo. e CARLYLE ON HISTORY AND HEROES. @n Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History. Six Lectures, reported with Emendations and Additions, by Thomas Carlyle, Author of the French Revolution, Sartor Resartus, &c. Elegantly printed in 1 vol. 12mo. * A masterly production.—Even the single lecture to which we shall confine our office, is, we feel, & greater theme than can be‘sufficiently illustrated at our hands. We have elsewhere noticed a new edition of Sartor Resartus, by the same author. It is a very remarkable work, though we must con- fess somewhat too German and transcendental for our taste. We rejoice to say that we find no such difficulties besetting us in these disquisitions on heroes. They are in truth philosophical enough, sbrupt enough, tearing enough ; but their philosophy is clear, distinct, and intelligible ; their abrupt- ness is the vigor of Demosthenes ; their tearing the acts of a giant who has a wilderness to burst through and open to the rest of mankind.” — Literary Gazette. GUIZOT’S HISTORY OF CIVILIZATION... Weneral History of Civilization in Europe, from the Fall of the Roman Empire to the French Revo- — tution. Translated from the French of M. Guizot, Professor of History to la Faculté des Lettres — ef Paris, and Minister of Public Instruction. 2d American, from the last London edition. 1 vol, F elegant style, so characteristic of the German Se ES ey eee ee ee ee By 12mo. “We hail with pleasure the republication of this able work. It is terse and full, and adverts to the most interesting topic in the social relations of mankind, the progressive improvement of the Eu- rerpean nations from the overthrow of the Roman Empire by the Goths, and Huns, and Vandals, in the BP fth Century."—N. Y. Amerscan. SOUTHEY’S POETICAL WORKS. The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey, Esq. LL.D. The ten volume London edition in one elegant royal 8vo. volume, with a fine portrait and vignette. : *,* This edition, which the author has arranged and revised with the same care as if it were in ' tended for posthumous publication, includes many pieces which either have never before been collect- ‘ ed, or have hitherto remained unpublished. 4 Preliminary notices are affixed to the long poems,—the whole of the notes retained,—and such ; aiiditional ones incorporated as the author, since the first publication, has seen occasion to insert Contents : S JoAN oF ARC. THE CURSE OF KEHAMA. JUVENILE AND MINOR PoEMS. . RovpERICK THE LAST OF THE GOTHS THALABA THE DESTROYER. TuE PoEt’s PILGRIMAGE TO WATERLOO. Mapoc. Lay oF THE LAUREATE. . BALLADS AND METRICAL TALES. VISION OF JUDGMENT, &c. *¢ At the age of sixty-three | have undertaken to collect aud edit my poetical works, with the last — @errections that I can expect to bestow upon them. They have obtained a reputation equa] to my wishes.-..--Thus to collect and revise them is a duty which I owe to that part of the public by whom ttey have been auspiciously received, aud to those who will take a lively concern in my good name mhen I shall have departed.”—Eztract from Author's Preface. a “ The critic has little to do but tu point out the existence of the work, the beauty of the type and embellishments, and the cheapness of the cost ; the public has long ago acknowledged its merit and eetablished its reputation.-----The author of the ‘ Life of Nelson’ must live as long as our history acd language endure. There isno man to whom the latter owes a greater obligation—no man who hes done more for literature by his genius, his labours, and his life.” —T%mes. <6 We are very glad to see the works of a poet, for whom we have always felt the warmest admira — tion, collected, and in a shade which will ensure their popularity.”—Literary Gazette. “ Southey’s principal poetical works have been long before the world, extensively read and highly - VALUABLE PUBLICATIONS. 5 appreciated. Their appearance in a neat and uniform edition, with the final corrections of the author will afford unfeigned pleasure to those who are ‘ married to immortal verse.’ ”— Atheneum. ‘The beauties of Mr. Southey’s poetry are such that this edition can hardly fail to find a place in the library of every man fond of elegant literature.”—Eclectic Review. SCRIPTURE AND GEOLOGY. On the Relation between the Holy Scriptures and some parts of Geological Science. By JoHN Pye SmituH, D.D., author of the Scripture Testimony of the Messiah, &c. &c. 1 vol. 12mo. ““The volume consists of eight lectures, to which are appended seventy pages of supplementary notes. The first lecture is introductory ; the second is scientifically descriptive of the principal topies of geological science ; the third includes a research into the creation of our globe ; the fourth and fifth lectures comprise an examination of the deluge ; the sixth discusses the apparent dissonance between the decisions of geologists, and the hitherto received interpretation of Scripture, with an additional exposition of the diluvial theory ; the seventh is devoted to illustration of the method to interpret the ’ Scriptures, so that they may harmonize with the discoveries of geology ; the eighth is the peroratiba of the whole disquisition ” TOUR THROUGH TURKEY AND PERSIA. Narrative of a Tour through Armenia, Kurdistan, Persia, and Mesopotamia, with an Introduction and Occasional Observations upon the Condition of Mohammedanism and Christianity in those countries ’ By the Rev. Horatio SouTuGaTeE, Missionary of the American Episcopal Church. 2 vols. 12mo., plates. “An exceedingly interesting book of travels, which no reader will be very likely to lay by for good tili he has seen the end of it. It contains a vast amount of information, religious and general, and is written in a style of perfect ease and simplicity. It deserves, and we doubt not will gain, an extensive eirculation.”— Albany Advertiser. SCOTLAND AND THE SCOTCH. Or the Western Circuit. By CATHERINE SINCLAIR, author of Modern Accomplishments, Modern Society, &c. &c. 1 vol. 12mo SHETLAND AND THE SHETLANDERS. Or the Northern Circuit. By CATHERINE SINCLAIR, author of Scotland and the Scotch, Holiday House, &c. &c. 1 vol. 12mo. ‘‘ Miss Sinclair has already proved herself to be a lady of high talent and rich cultivated mind. She thinks with precision and vigor, and she possesses the quality of seizing the objects of her thoughts in the right place and at the proper time, and of presenting thei to the mind’s eye of her readers in the most clear and captivating light. Her style is characteristic of her mind, transparent, piquant, and lively, yet sustained by pure, moral and religious feeling.”"—New- York American. LIMITATIONS OF HUMAN RESPONSIBILITY. By Francis Wayland,D D. 2d edition. 1 vol. 18mo. TEE PoAGS Le; Ora Voyage round the World, In the United States Frigate Columbia, attended by her consort, the Sloop of War John Adams, and bearing the broad pennant of Commodore George C. Read. By Fircu W. Tay tor, Chaplain tothe Squadron. 2 vols. 12mo., plates. ‘‘ This work has been some time before the public ; but if in consequence of our late notice, it shall afford to any reader the very great pleasure and profit which its perusal has given us, we are sure he will think it better late than never. The records of a voyage around the world, made by a man, who, jn mingling with the various and wonderful scenes it must present, has had his eyes open, could not fai] to be interesting. Facts and real occurrences, are things of which we never grow weary. But this work has a far higher claim to regard. Its literary character is certainly very respectable, and the benevolent spirit and Christian interest with which the varied incidents of a visit to almost every ua- tion on the globe were regarded, give the book an unwonted value. The abilility to survey the moral aspects of the world, is a qualification of which the far greater part of travellers are utterly deficient. Probably since the valuable journal of Tyerman, and Bennett, there has been no other one published which exhibits so satisfactory a view of the Christian missions of the world as this. We think it adapted to interest its readers not only, but greatly to instruct them, and especially to awaken a deep and lively sympathy for the moral wants and miseries of the world.”—--Evangelist. WORKS BY ISAAC TAYLOR. HOME EDUCATION. © By Isaac Taylor, author of ‘¢ Natural History of Enthusiasm,’ &c. &c. Second edition. 1 vol. 12mo. In this volume the general principles of Education, as applicable to private families and to small schools, are stated and explained ; such mathods of treatment, especially, being suggested, as ar best : 3 Dp, APPLETON & CO’S ah suited to the circumstances of a country residence ; at the same time, hints are offered of a kind to be available under any circumstances for carrying on the culture of those of the intellectual faculties that are the earliest deve.vped, and on the due expansion of which the force and efficiency of the mature wuind depend. .- “6A yery enlightened, just, and Christian view of a most important subject.”—American Bib. Rep. - SPIRITUAL CHRISTIANITY. Lectures on Spiritual Christianity. By Isaac Taylor, author of ‘‘ Spiritual Despotism,” &e. &c. 1 vol. 12mo. ‘This work is the production of one of the most gifted and accomplished minds of the present age. If some of his former productions may have been thvughi characterized by too much of metaphysica. abstraction, and in some instances, by speculations of doubtful tnportance, the present volume is, we think, in no degree liable to this objection. It is indeed distinguished for deep thought and accurate discrimination ; and whoever would read it to advantage, must task his faculties in a mach higher de- gree than in reading ordinary books ; and yet it contains nothing which an ordinary degree of intelli- gence and application may not readily comprehend. The view which it gives of Christianity, both as a system of truth and a system of duty, is in the highest degree instructive; and its tendencies are not less to quicken the intellectual faculties, than to direct and elevate the moral sensibilities. We have no doubt that it will be read with great interest by those who read to find materials for thought, and that it is destined to exert a most important influence, especially on the more intellectual classes, in the advancement of the interests of truth and piety.”—Albany Evening Journal. , PHYSICAL THEORY OF ANOTHER LIFE. By Isaac Taylor, author of ‘‘ Natural History of Enthusiasm.” Third edition, 1 vol. 12:n0. MINIATURE CLASSICAL LIBRARY. Great pains have been bestowed in the selection of this unique Library; it will comprise the best works of our vencrated authors, published in an elegant form, with a beautiful frontispiece, tastefully ornamented. The following are now ready ; GOLDSMITH.—Essays. By Oliver Goldsmith. GOLDSMITH.—The Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Goldsmith, JOHNSON.—The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia, a Tale. By Samuel Johnson, LL.D. COTTIN.—Elizabeth; or, the Exiles of Siberia. By Madame Cottin, The extensive populanty of this little tale is well known. TOKEN of Affection. Do. of Friendship. Do. of Remembrance, Each volume consists of appropriate poetical extracts from the best writers of the day. PURE GOLD from the Rivers of Wisdom.—A collection of short extracts on Religious subjects from the older writers, Bishop Hal!, Sherlock, Barrew, Paley, Jeremy Taylor, &c. ST, PIERRE.—Paul and Virginia. From the French of J. B. H. DeSt. Pierre, *,* These volumes will be followed by others of attested merit. Wass - EVENINGS WITH THE CHRONICLERS; Or, Uncle Rupert’s Tales of Chivalry. By R. M. Evans. With many illustrations. 1 vol. 16mo., elegantly bound. «Tis would have been a volume after our own hearts, while we were younger, and it is scarcely less so now when we are somewhat older. It discourses of those things which charmed all of us in early youth. The daring @eeds of the Knights and Squires of feudal warfare. The true version of the “Chevy Chase,” the exploits of the stout and stalwart Warriors of England, Scotland and Ger- many. In a word, it is an attractive book, and rendered more so to young readers by a series of wood engravings, beautifuily executed, illustrating the letter-press descriptions. There are seventeen of these plates in the volume, and the whole book is so excellently printed, and upon such good paper, that it is in all respects valuable.”--Courter & Enquirer. 7 we VALUABLE PUBLICATIONS. 7 APPLETON’S TALES FOR THE PEOPLE AND THEIR CHILDREN, The greatest care is taken in selecting the works of which the collection is com. posed, so that nothing either mediocre in talent, or immoral in tendency, is ad- mitted. Each volume is printed on the finest paper, is illustrated with an ele gant frontispiece, and is bound in a superior manner, tastefully ornamented. The following have already appeared, uniform in size and style: THE POPLAR GROVE; Or, Little Harry and his Uncle Benjamin. By Mrs. Copley, author of “‘ Early Friendship,’ &c. &c. 1 vol. 18mo., beautiful frontispiece. “‘ An excellent little story this, showing how sound sense, honest principles, and intelligent indus- try, not only advance their possessor, but, as in the case of Uncle Benjamin the gardener, enable him to become the benefactor, guide, and friend of relations cast down from a loftier sphere in life, and, but for him, without resource. “It is a tale for youth of all classes, that cannot be read without profit.”—N.Y. American. EARLY FRIENDSHIP. By Mrs. Copley. 1 vol. 18mo., plates. “ A charming little book this for young girls—good counsel conveyed in the language of affection, and with all the attraction of an interesting story. It is a series of admonitious about the girlish friend- ships formed at school—sometimes so injudicious, often so influential in the formation of character ” — N.Y. American. THE TWO DEFAULTERS; Or, a Picture of the Times. By Mrs. Griffith (of New-York.) ‘A most interesting little volume, not excelled by any one of the series.” MASTERMAN READY; Or, the Wreck of the Pacific. Written for Young Persons, by Capt. Marryat. 1 vol. 18mo froutispiece. «We have never seen any thing from the same pen we like as well as this. The Captain had pro mised his children to write a story for them, and undertook in consequence to continue the Swiss Ro- binsou Crusoe ; but on application to the work, soon discovered it would be easier and more useful to those for whom he was writing, to strike out into an entirely new story. He has done so most suc- cessfully. It is still the tale of shipwreck and desvlate island, and Masterman Ready is the personifi- cation of all the practical talents and available shifts which much knocking about in the world teaches to some—not all—men. There is, moreover, much and accurate knowledge displayed throughout, communicated in a way to be both intelligible and attractive to youthful minds, and we cannot better conclude our notice of it, than by repeating the exclamation of a clever boy, as he finished the book,— ‘Well, I am so glad it is to be continued.’?”—N.¥. American. THE PEASANT AND THE PRINCE, By Harriet Martineau. 1 vol. 18mo. “‘ The versatile talent of Miss Martineau has been employed of late in preparing for the people and their children a most inviting little history of Louis Sixteenth and his family. Here, in a style even more familiar than Scott’s Tales of a Grandfather, we have a graphic epitome of many facts connected with the days of the ‘ Revolution,’ which will eclipse any of the fictitious tales now in vogue. Roy alty is set before the young mind in a manner which will preclude any farther misconceptions as to the amount of happiness distributed between the ‘Prince’ and the ‘Peasant,’ and the effort of the author to secure in early life the ascendancy of the reflective and reasoning powers over the imagina- tion, will, we doubt not, be suecessful.”—N. Y. Courter. THE SETTLERS AT HOME. By Harriet Martineau. | vol. 18mo. “The circumstances under which this little volume, for the amusement of children, has been pro- duced, give an additional charm to its truth, simplicity, and feeling. The tale, though in one passage sorrowful enough to moisten many a pair of eyes, is full of interest and character. The latter, we may add, is as much appreciated by children as the former ; and they will take as lively an interest in Ail win’s ignorant and unselfish fidelity and her stalwart arms, and in Roger Redfurn the gipsy boy’s gleams of better nature, as in the development of the main incident of the book, a most disastrous flood which spread devastation over the Isle of Axholme two hundred years ago.”’— Atheneum. WHO SHALL BE GREATEST? A Tale. By Mary Howitt. 1 vol. 18mo., plates. “ The great moral lesson inculcated by this book is mdicated by its title ; and while it is prominon sl Se pe sie LE ae 8 _ _ D. APPLETON & CO’S is s enough through the whole volume, it comes out at.the close with most impressive effect. We need not say it is a lesson which every human being isthe wiser and the better for learning. We cordiall recommend the work to all who would desire to form a sober and rational estimate of the world’s en. joyments.”— Albany Evening Journal. et SOWING AND REAPING; A ; at tice Or, What will come ofit? By Mary Howitt. 1 vol. 18mo., plates. ae i “We commenced it with the intention of just looking it over for the purpose « writing a cursor ; notice ; but we began to read, and so we went on to the finis. Itis very interesting; the characte. are full of individuality.”—New Bedford Mercury. Seal ee eee ’ STRIVE AND THRIVE: i PS i A Tale. By Mary Howitt. 1 vol. 18mo., plates. “ The mere announcement of the name of the authoress, will doubtless bring any of her productions — to the immediate notice of the public; but Strive and Thrive is not a book for children only, but can be — ~ead with pleasure and advantage by those of « more mature age. It fully sustains the reputation of & its predecessors. The style is easy and flowing the language chaste and beautiful, and the incidents — of the tale calculated to keep up the interest to the end.”—N.Y. Courier & Enquirer. ‘ HOPE ON, HOPE EVER; Or, the Boyhood of Felix Law. By Mary Howitt. 1 vol. 18mo. ‘A yery neat volume with the above title, and the farther annunciation that it may be called Tales 3 for the People and their Children, has been written by Mary Howitt, whose name is so favourably known to the reading community. “This volume, like all others that emanate from the pen of this lady is extremely interesting: the characters are naturally drawn, while the feeling and passion displayed, give the work a higher rank than is usually alletted to nursery tales.”— Commercial Advertiser. Be THE LOOKING-GLASS FOR THE MIND; Or, Intellectual Mirror, being an elegant collection of the most delightful little stories and interesting tales: chiefly translated from that much admired work L’ami des Enfans; with numerous wood cuts. The twentieth edition. 1 vol. 18mo. } “The stories here collected are of a most interesting character, since virtue is constantly represented — as the fountain of happiness, and vice as the source of every evil: as a useful and instructive Looking ~ glass, we recommend it for the instruction of every youth, whether Miss or Master; itis a mirror that will not flatter them, or lead them into error ; it displays the follies and improper pursuits of youthful hearts, points out the dangerous paths they sometimes tread. and clears the way to the temple of © honour and fame. ‘ DINING OUT. Together with Confessions of a Maniac. By Mrs. Ellis, author of “Women of England,” &c. 1 vol. 18mo. “The tendency of this little book is one of the best and noblest. The scenes and characters are, It is believed, portraits, aiming, as it does, at the correction of a too prevalent vice. It is expected that it will command, among the serious and thinking part of the community, as extensive a popularity as ‘Nicholas Nickleby,’ in its peculiar circle.” SOMERVILLE HALL. To which is added, RISING TIDE. By Mrs. Ellis. 1 vol. 18mo. ‘ This little book has much to recommend itself. It contains an interesting and lesson-teaching tale, which cannot fail to impress its prominent features on many a breast.” ; *,* It is intended to include in this series some of the best works in our language. A GIFT FROM FAIRY LAND. , By J. K. Paulding, Esq. Illustrated with one hundred unique original plates by Chapman ; elegantly bound. 1 vol. 12mo. 4 PAST DAYS: A Story for Children. By Esther Whitlock.. Square 18mo. “It is a delightful, instructive little book ; and if the child, when she closes the volume, find her eyes ‘red with weeping,’ let her not be ashamed; one old enough to be her grandfather, caught the same disease from the same source.””— Philadelphia United States Gazette. P SPRING AND SUMMER. The Juvenile Naturalist; or Walks in the Country. By the Rev. B.H. Draper. A beautiful volume, with fifty elegant plates. 1 vol.square, handsomely bound AUTUMN AND WINTER, The Juvenile Naturalist; or Walks in the Country. By the Rev. B. H. Draper. : gt, THE ANXIOUS ENQUIRER AFTER SALVATION Directed and Encouraged. By Rev. John Angell James. 1 vol. 18mo. Twenty thousand copies of this excellent little volume have already beén sold, which fully attests the high estimation the work has attained with the religious community. ; HAPPINESS, ITS NATURE AND SOURCES. By Rev. John Angell James. 1 vol. 32mo, «This is written in the excellent author’s best vein. He has, with a searching fidelity, exposed the yarious unsatisfying expedients by which the natural heart seeks to attain the great end and aim of all--happiness, and with powerful and touching exhortations directed it to the never-failing source of all good. The author does not engage himself in speculations or theories. The results of extended _ observation, the testimony of well-attested experience, are arrayed, in the light of which the true way and the false are clearly seen. It is eloquently and pointedly written. A better book we have not in a long time seen.”-—Evangelist. THE WIDOW DIRECTED To the Widow’s God. By the Rev. John Angell James, 1 vol. 18mo. “‘Ifany thing more were necessary to give this book currency with the Christian community than — the name of its author, we should have it in the peculiarly tender and interesting nature of the subject — on which he writes. He has written many good books, and all belong tothe same general class ; and © though some of them are more generally applicable than this, yet in noone, perhaps, has he discover- — eda more skilful hand, or a more tender and: devout spirit. The book is worthy to be read by others ~ » besides the class for which it is especially designed ; and we doubt not that it is destined to come as @ © ae visiter to many a house of mourning, and as a healing balm to many a wounded heart."—N. ¥. server. VALUABLE PUBLICATIONS. ll WORKS BY THE REV. DR. SPRAGUE. TRUE AND FALSE RELIGION, Lectures Illustrating the Contrast between True Christianity and various other systems, By William B, Sprague, D.D. 1 vol. 12mo. LECTURES ON REVIVALS IN RELIGION, By W. B. Sprague, D.D. With an Introductory Essay by Leonard Woods, D.D. 1 vol. 12mo LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER, On Practical Subjects. By W. B. Sprague, D.D. Fourth edition, revised and enlarged. 1 vol. 12mo. LECTURES TO YOUNG PEOPLE. By W. B. Sprague, D.D. With an Introductory Address. By Samuel Miller, D.D. Fourth edition. 1 vol. 12mo. The writings of Dr. Sprague are too well known, and too highly estimated by the Christian com- munity generally, to require any other encomium than is furnished by their own merits ; for this rea- son it is thought unnecessary to subjoin the favourable testimonies borne to their utility and excel- lence by the whole circle of the periodical press of this country, and the fact that they have each passed through several editions in England, sufficiently attests the estimation in which they are held abroad. oo WILLIAMS’S MISSIONARY ENTERPRISES. A Narrative of Missionary Enterprises and Triumphs in the South Seas, with Remarks upon the Natural History of the Islands, Origin, Language, Tradition, and Usages of the Inhabi- tants. By the Rev. John Williams, of the London Missionary Society. Numerous plates. 1 vol. large 12mo, ‘‘ We have been greatly delighted with this work. And if asked, why? we answer, because it furnishes the most full and satisfactory account of Polynesia, the isles of the Pacific, we have any where met with. 2. Yt relates facts, occurrences, and incidents, of which the author was eye and ear witness. 3. It ineidently gives a full-length portrait of the missionary character of the present age ; a portrait that even Satan must admire, thongh ‘he cannot love.’ 4. It fairly developes the true spirit of the Christian missions, and the principles on which they are successfully conducted. 5. It exhibits the astonishing power of the gospel in the transformation of the most degraded class of huinan beings. 6. It evinces the inseparable connexion between Christianity and civilization ; between the gospel re- ceived, and man’s present happiness, 7. It illustrates the grace of God, as displayed in the triumphant death of heathen converts. 8. It exposes the ignorance and wickeduess of those who misrepresent the design and operations of Christian missions. 9. It demonstrates that the ‘ isles of the sea’ are waiting for God’s law, and that God's time has come for their conversion. 10. It urges powerfully to greatly enlarged effort for the ‘ immediate emancipation’ of all the slaves of Satan from the bondage of thou- sunds of years. ‘ i : : ‘‘ Besides these, we might state many other reasons for our high satisfaction with this transatlantic volume. Itis written in a style of great simplicity, in a spirit of great meekness, in a tone of candour and modesty, that we much admire. It conveys no sinall amount of valuable geographical and geolo- gical information ; much of it new to us, and probably to others. It is replete with distinct references to the hand of Divine Providence, and with devout reflections, that render it valuable, even as an ‘ aid to devotion.’ It is throughout highly attractive for the variety of its matter, for the fairness of its occasional discussions on some mooted questions of natural history, &c., for the light it throws on the social condition of different tribes of savages, and their intellectual character, and for the continuity of the whole story. ‘ ‘‘ Other minds may not be-affected like our own. Butif the practised reader of novels and romances finds the charms of fiction working as powerfully to withdraw his mind from all things around him, as we have found the charms of these authentic ‘ Missionary Enterprises’ working on ourselves, we won- der not at his attachment to them, however unjustifiable it may be. After once entering fairly into the spirit of the narrative, it is hardly possible for us to conceive of a pious mind that can ‘let it go’ till it shall have been ‘ devoured.’ ”’— Evangelist. MISSIONARY’S FAREWELL, . By the Rev. John Williams, author ot ‘‘ Missionary Enterprises,” &c, 1 vol. 18mo. THE MARTYRED MISSIONARIES. emoirs of the Rev. Samuel Munson and the Rev. Henry Lyman, late Missionaries to the Median Archipelago, with the Journal. of their Exploring Tour. By the Rev. William Thompson. 1 vol. 12mo. DISCOURSES ON THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. Select Discourses on the Functions of the Nervous System, in opposition to Phreno.ogy, Materialism and Atheism ; to which is prefixed a Lecture on the Diversities of the Human Character, arising from Physiological Peculiarities, By John Augustine Smith, M.D. 1 vol 2m 12 D. APPLETON & CO’S PUBLICATIONS. LAFEVER’S MODERN ARCHITECTURE. Beauties of Modern Architecture: consisting of forty-eight plates of Original Designs, with Plans, Bievations and Sections, a'so a Dictionary of Technical Terms; the whole forming © a complete Manual for the Practical Builder. By M. Lafever, Architect. 1 vol. large 8vo., half bound. LAFEVER’S STAIR-CASE AND HAND-RAIL CONSTRUCTION. } The Modern Practice of Stair-case and Hand-rail Construction, practically explained, in 3 © series of Designs. By M. Lafever, Architect. With Plans and Elevations for Ornamen- — tal Villas. Fifteen Plates. 1 vol. Jarge 8vo. HODGE ON THE STEAM-ENGINE, The Steam-Engine, its Origin and Gradual Improvement, from the tme of Hero to the pre sent day, as adapted to Manufactures, Locomotion and Navigation, MIlustrated with forty e ght plates in full detail, numerous wood cuts, &c. By Paul R. Hodge, C.E. 1 vol. folio of plates, and letter-press in 8vo. “ The letter-press volume furnishes a comprehensive history of the invention and the various im provements which have been made in the steam*engine, from the earliest period to the present time, © rogether with such practical rules and explanations as are necessary to enable the mechanic to design nd construct a machine of any required power, and of the most improved form, for any of the numer- jus applications of steam. For the purpose of rendering the reference from the letter-press to the lates more convenient, the engraved illustrations are published in a separate volume, in the folio form hese plates are all drawn to certain scales, and the dimensions of every part may be taken, and ma- chines built from any of the designs. ~ “The most recent and approved engines of their respective classes appear to have been selected, and, with four exceptions only, are all of American construction and arrangement. The volume of plates, as « work of the art of drawing, forms one of the most splendid specimens that has ever fallen under our observation. Mr. Hodge, the author of this truly practical and valuable work, is, it willbe | recollected, the inventor of the steam fire-engine, the utility of which, in extinguishing fires, has been fully tested.”—Courter § Engutrer THE PRINCIPLES OF DIAGNOSIS. By Marshall Hall, MD. F.RS., &c. Second edition, with many improvements, By Dr John A. Sweet. 1 vol. 8yvo. This work was published in accordance with.some of the most celebrated physicians of this country, who were auxious that it should be brought within the reach of all classes of medical men, to whose attention it offers strong claims as the latest and best work on the subject, and as being calculated to 4Jl « blank in the medical library, the existence of which, hitherto, has been generally admitted and deplored. 4 KEIGHTLEY’S MYTHOLOGY FOR SCHOOLS. The Mythology of Ancient Greece and Italy, designed for the Use of Schools. By Thomas Keightley. Numerous wood-cut illustrations. 1 vol. 18mo., half bound. HAZEN’S SYMBOLICAL SPELLING-BOOK. The Symbolical Spellin: -Book, in two parts. By Edward Hazen. . Containing 288 engravings. i MY SON’S MANUAL. Comprising 2 Summary View of the Studies, Accomplishments, and Principles of Conduct, best suited for promoting Respectability and Success in Life. Elegantly engraved frontispiece. 1 vol. 18mo. MY DAUGHTER’S MANUAL. ; Comprising a Summary View of Female Studies, Accomplishments, and Principles of Conduct. Beau- ~ taful frontispiece. 1 vol. 1Smo. "7 ELLA V———-; Or the July Tour. By one of the party. 1 vol. 12mo. “He can form a moral on a glass of champagne.”—Le Roy. CRUDEN’S CONCORDANCE. a Containing all the Words to be found in the large Work relating to the New Testament. - 1 vol. 18mo. THE POLYMICRIAN NEW TESTAMENT. Numerous References. Maps, &c. 1 vol. 18mo. ans ih. 9 Siete Dy AL a he Mean re tae ae Satay ect eta Md mini kash dls A Te Er Tee are ee oe hot ip ee he ON in NE Pacis iif APO neue ne eo) ere ea Ee ENE ~ tam Se Saati gia tne ee a oe eee Ain deaietiboty st Re ree hit Sn os SLA ar penny owe area +e er ane z e Sy aie Bit Nye toe SLAVS, me, ‘ bs - * Pa DLE ese LE AAS oes Sen, Wi Ni Pristntiets tei Brrr FE a ad ot ere id pL NOS gee Pe Sig lay toy TO EE Rect iy: _ So hae Re RS et Bis PS Ns Ce ee Sen BS Eel Sian Anas aeaa tit Sh le Sy sil eh 1 NaN Rated meng SES Site 3 pena apiece apainten >a my apm SE rs sey Barley so Ph inh nr ee eed Phi gia vee pS tates aE FR BER BA AB A ores ae Ah aN Dei Aes a ha eI Pa ba SE red St Se Sena ein Se cons tear eh ae WAYS int Ae SRR Rat vA pai tpi POMPE Bs 21% tM ih Bt RP AA Bera A A aX ae ahh > RRA, 4 ela iy Seti ih A Hs arn Pan -E TS I S ae Rest wie : * (ane, 6. 01) BEIGE Petal i tue nn, ey Roe aroR ty mia dR Men WA wig Bayi Ps a ary ace any a ey RS ES See eee ae RPE owl te “ tk PUR Ri Bs Pap Rinks BP SMLERE SES SS ernie PETE esesearenn se natn eat aE AEN SETI gw Pvc ae ne li 79 i Re ND A em nba di worsens hee racing rani i 7 A Peg aA PE TOO prrierae nay eee ela ts ESE BYERN ei ABN PASE AE Ah pipagpeettet res Mike ergot? a Prpermeenrer See ees pon mpedentso MLR FalT SS WAV Sia RRA ET NAD ge pode Sie oF: PRT ees Cee La nti SilanePireh meet 4 Ais Lal © BB. aOR AY tea ens Rime MR ALD en ret ey ae : OS Tee oT re cL at ee Sah ag é e ee dw nh haem Wie naan mae et oe Be oe Sine aati a nia rani. pA werent Seley jc nak sSNA EVA hy 4 EM OD eA - tear Led Teneo ieee ee Te ne ese ad okt ln a kewncn aly mene honn n> . Ee eee ee ee ee ee amin lth Uns i seach ati in 5Beg DS Beiaincad Ps ale a Ama este Bee Ha! 2 ic ln li sh i i gt | SS RE dant pe Ding, aj) aA EO Aa i abc no ig COE OE ENS _— Pe Cee cn, dle when ge Ra eee eet a saw deh nD