: d on every accidental impulſe. * To be convinced of truths, and yet not: to feel or act up to them, 1s a commonthing. Preſent pleaſurt drives all before it, and adverſity is merci- | fully ſent to force / us to think.
In the ſchool of adverſity we learn knowledge as well as virtue; yet we lament our hard fate, dwell on our diſ- EH .* - appointments, and never eonſider that our on wayward minds, and inconſiſtent: hearts, require theſe needful correctives. Medicines! are not ſent It is a well-known remark, that our very wiſhes give us not our wiſh.. I have often thought it might be ſet = down as a maxim, that the greateſt e " 7 * But truth is ſometimes not ve turn from it, and daat on an illu- ä ſion; and if we were not in a probationary ſtate, we ſhould do well to thicken the cloud, rather than diſpel it, > are ſome who delight in erving moral beauty, ar ſouls ſicken when forced to view crimes and Follies w. could neyer hurt them. w numerous are the ſorrows which 1 114 The Benefits.wbich ariſe reach ſuch boſoms! They may truly -be called buman creatures; on every ſide they touch their fellow-mortals, and vibrate to the touch. Common humanity points out the important du- ties of our ſtation; but ſenſibility (a kind of inſtinct, ſtrengthened by re- flection) can only teach the numberleſs minute things which give _ or pleaſure.
A benevolent mind often ſuffers. more than the object it commiſerates, and will bear an inconvenience itſelf to ſhelter another from it. It makes allowance for failings though it longs to meet n which it ſeems „: formed From Dj iſappointments, 115 Formed to adore. The Author of all good continually calls himſelf, a God long-ſuffering; and thoſe moſt reſem- ble him who praiſe forbearance. Love and compaſſion are the moſt de- lightful feelings of the ſoul, and to ex- ert them to all that breathe is the wiſh 6f the benevolent heart. To ſtruggle with ingratitude and ſelfiſhneſs is grat- ing beyond expreſſion: and the ſenſe we have of our weiknels, though uſe- ful, is not pleaſant. Thus it is with us, when we look for happineſs, we meet with vexations:: and if, now and then, we give way to tenderneſs, or any of the amiable paſſions, and taſte Pealure, the mind, ſtrained beyond its 12 uſuab = - uſual tone, falls i into apathy. And yet e were made to be happy! But our paſſions will not contribute much to our bliſs, till they are under the dominion of reaſon, and till that reaſon is enlightened and improved; Then fighing will ceaſe, and all tears will be © wiped away by that Being, i in whoſe preſence there is fulneſs of 7.
= A perſon of tenderneſs muſt ever have particular attachments, and ever = be diſappointed; yet {till they muſt be A2ttached, in ſpite of human frailty; 1 for if the mind is not kept in motion by either hope or fear, it ſinks into the dreadful ſtate before - mentioned. 1 have I have very often heard it. a ubſect of ridicule, that when K perſon & diſappointed in this world, they turn o the next. Nothing can be more natural than the tranfition; and it ſeems to me the ſcheme of Providenc that our finding things unſatisfactory here, ſhould force us to think of the better count to which we are going.
on Tar TheaTWENT or | | h PRE management of ſervants is | | a2 great part of the employment of a woman's life; and her own tem- r depends very much on her behaviour to them. | = | * % Servants are, in general, ignorant and cunning; we muſt conſider their characters, if we would treat them - properly, and continually practiſe for- | bearance. e ſame methods we uſe Vith children may be adopted with f| regard to them. Act uniformly, and never find fault without a juſt cauſe; *. # va 75: GEE On the Treatment of Servants. 119 and when there is, be poſitive, but not: © angry. A-mind that-is not too much: # engroſſed by trifles, will not be diſcom- poſed by every little domeſtic diſaſter; and a thinking perſon can very readily- make allowance for thoſe faults which ariſe from want of reflection and education. I have ſeen the peace of a whole family diſturbed by ſome trivial, croſs accident, and hours ſpent-in uſe⸗ leſs. upbraidings.. about ſome miſtake- 1 ' Which would never have been thought i of, but for the conſequences that aroſe: _ Y from it. An error in-judgment or ans | accident ſhould not be ſeverely repre- N hended. It is a proof of. wiſdom to- * rn” . + 1% to ſee thoſe around them comfortable, to be the cauſe of that com- . The wide difference whi cation makes, I ſhould fi prevent familiarity in t ; yet kindneſs muſt be ſhewn, if we are deſirous that our domeſtics ſhould: I be attached to our intereſt and per- ſons. How pleaſing it is to be at- a ſmile of willingneſs, to - conſulted when they are at a loſs, d up to as a friend and be- r when they are in diſtreſs, It * - * we may often meet with ingra - fertilize” the unworthy, as well as the juſt. Id nurſe them in illneſs, and our ſuperior judgment in thoſe matters. would often al- leviate their pains.
Above all, we owe them a good: example. The ceremonials of reli- gion,. on' their account, n be eo <4 mt to; as erk always | ö 8 nibh "Tu We ſhould fot ſh the faith of the meaneſt fellow-crea-.
tare; n nay more, we ſhould comply 122 On the Treatment of Servants.- with their prejudices; for their reli- gious notions are ſo over-run with them, that they are not eaſily ſeparat- by trying to pluck up the ares, we may root up the wheat with them. Ls: The woman who gives way to ca-. price and ill-humour in the kitchen, cannot eaſily ſmooth her brow when her huſband returns to his fire- ſide; nay, he may not only ſee the wrinkles of anger, but hear the diſputes at ſecond-hand. I heard a Gentleman ſay, i it would break any man's heart to hear bis wife, argue ſuch a caſe. Men who are employed about things of dane reatment of Servants. 127 conſequence, think theſe affairs more they really are; for mee warmth with which we en gage in and our not entering, into. them bas the contrary effect.
4,. 3 FINE Op: 3 any buſineſs. increaſes its importance, The behaviour: ks to ſervants is generally, in extremes; too fami- Har or haughty. Indeed the one often raaduren the other, as a check, when. the freedoms are troubleſome, a 3 or good, but we may teach them tq bs decent and orderly.; and order, leads.
to-ſome degree of morality. --- s THE "oh TE 1 HE inſtitutien of keeping the ſeventh day holy was wiſtly or- dered by Providence for two purpoſes. To reſt the body, and call off the mind from the oy o eager purſuit of the ſhadows of this life, id, often obſct futurtty, and fix our t ich, I am che proſpect of oughts on earth.
A reſpe& for this ordinance” is, I am perſuaded, of the utmoſt conſequence fack a notion of it, that with them to my wing and "Os reh gious, are ſo loſt in their ſenſes, that if this day did not continually remind them, they would ſoon forget that a God in the world. Some forms are neceſſary to ſupport vital religion, without them it would ſoon lang and at laſt expire. been It is unfortun either kept with „that this day is ritanical exactneſs, irkſome, or loſt ther way is very prejudicial to the minds of children and ougt rvants, be t not to be let run wild, nor confined too ſtrictiy; and, above all, ſee their parents or maſters Þ cuſtomed to bodi into as laborious pleaſures, if they are 1726 The Objervance of Sunday.
" indulge themſelves in things. which are generally thought wrong. I am fully perſuaded, that ſervants have fuch a notion of card playing, that whereever it is practiſed of a Sunday their minds are hurt; and the barrier between good and evil in ſome meaſure broken down. Servants, who are acr, will fall not gently reſtrained, and ſome ſub- {litute found out for hem.
» Such a dlofe attention to a family * *.
may appear to many very diſagree- able; but the path of duty will be found pleaſant after ſome time; and the paſſions being employed this way, The Ober vance of Sunday, 127 will, by degrees, come under the ſub- jection of reaſon. I mean not to be rigid, the obſtructions which ariſe in the way of our duty, do not ſtrike a ſpeculatiſt; I know, too, that in the moment of action, even a well-diſpoſed mind is often carried away by the preſent impulſe, and that it requires ſome experience to be able to diſtin- guiſh the dictates of reaſon from thoſe of paſſion. The truth is ſeldom found out until the tumult is over; we then wake as from a dream, and when we ſurvey what we have done, and fed the folly of it, we might call on rea- ſom and ſay, why ſleepeſt thou? Let though to regain the and cultivate ſuch habits p "I 'Y —; 4.
I never knew much ſocial virtue to * — — 1 8 3 * * 8 13 F 5 — of | CTUATING PRINCIPLES. } 3 d 0 ö religion; for chem, repeated experienes convinecs me, the moſt ſhining qualities are un- | - am fixed chart to direct ham in On the Misfortune inthe doubtful voyage of life; how then can they hope. to find the « haven of advantages. Noble actions mult ariſe from noble thoughts and views; when are confined to this world, they * _ Faith, with reſpect to the promiſe of eternal happineſs, can only enable ns to combat with our paſſions, with a chance of victory. There are many who pay no attention to revelation, and more, perhaps, who have not any d belief in it. The ſure word of comfort is neglected; and how people reſt? But they think not of it, and cannot be expected to forego preſent can live without it, I can ſcarcely. conceive. For as the ſun renews the face of nature, and chaſes away dark-.
neſs from the world, ſo does this, {till greater bleſſing, have the fame eff on the mind, and enli ghtens and che rs.
» > it when every thing elſe fails.
* A true ſenſe of our infirmities is the way to make us chriſtians in the moſt extenſive ſenſe of the word. A mind depreſſed with a weight of weakneſſes can only find comfort in the promiſes of the Goſpel. The aſſiſtance there offered muſt raiſe the humble ſoul; and the account of the atonement that has been | made, gives a rational 8250 * K 2 ground of fluftuating Principles - 8 * a n OS =) 5 N HW OP) .: 2 * 2 * * TY SF FRE S: 8 Y 2 = a5 * * * - = 1 WE o — Oey” ” -4 | \. Fa G A _ o nothing to be exerciſed on.
of doubts—of which: there is no end. Tu is nota!
id of certainty; there J wandering rea- Fon, and but one clue to prevent its in endl rehes. Rea- S to di the ling too far, and runs into abſur- * diy. Some ſpeculations are idle and others hurtful, as they T iſe pride, and thoughts to ſubjects that . ought, to be leſt unexplored. | With love and awe we ſhould think. of the & KL & High and Lofty ne, that inhabiteth eternit La 4 not preſume to fay how He muſt exiſt who, ergated us...How Kan 414 unfortunate it is, that man muſt ſink into a brute, and nat employ his mind, p or elle, b 7 thinking, grow. ſo. proud, * 8 out. the « crude notions which young. rt away when t e and * On the Mirfortene Tometimes i in the company of young women, to make them wonder at their f ſuperior wiſdom There cannot be any thing more dangerous to a mind, not accuſtomed to think, than doubts delivered in a ridiculing way. They bh never go deep enough to ſolve them, of courſe they ſtick by them; and though they might not influence their conduct, if a fear of the world pre- vents their being guilty of vices, yet © their thoughts are not reſtrained, and ; they ſhould be obſerved diligently, For out of them are the ilſues of 8 life.” A. A nice ſenſe of right and wrong ; ought to be acquired, -and then not only great vices will be avoided, but 5 ** little meanneſs; truth will reign in =. oo £ . continual interruptions, .of Jufuating P rinciples. tes I 3 5 * in the inward parts, and merey vill attend her.
1 have indeed ſo much | compaſſion = for thoſe young females who are en- N tering into the world without fixed principles, that I would fain perſuade them to examine a little into the matter. For though in the ſeaſon of gaiety they may not feel the want of them, in that of diſtreſs where will they fly for ſuccour? Even with this ſupport, life is a labor of patience—a conflict; and the utmoſt we can gain is a ſmall portion of peace, a kind of watchful tranquillity, that is liable to K + 146 Then *« Truſt me, the tender are the moſt ſevere. Guard, while tis thine, thy philoſophic eaſe, = And ak n no joy but that of virtuous peace: £28535 of 40 That | bids defiance to the ſtorms of fate: - *. #3 WY: : 1 * Is firſt, and moſt amiable vir- * 8 « tue, is o found that afterwards the compaſfionate emotions; and ences conſcience. I do not mean to * * — mpoſture inſtantly bani „ Intra: 1 138 Benevolence.
\ rity, ought to attend us in our paſſage through this world; but the two firſt nen we die, while the other is to be the conſtant inmate of our ach all eternity. We ought Not to ſuffer the heavenly ſpark to be quenched by ſelfiſhneſs; if we do, how can we expect it to revive, when the ſoul is diſentangled from the body, and ſhould be prepared for the-realms of love? Forbearance and liberality of ſentiment are the virtues of matu- rity: Children ſhould. be taught every thing in a poſitive way; and their own experience can only teach them aftero laſt it reſiſted the neee and Benevolence. 139 benevolence that comes within their ſphere of action, and it ſhould not be ſuffered to ſleep. Some part of the money that is allowed them for pocket- money, they ſhould be encouraged to lay out this way, and the ſhort-lived emotions of pity continually retraced till they grow into habits. 2 * I knew a child that would, when very young, fit down and cry if it met a poor perſon, after it had laid out its money in cakes; this occurred once or twice, and the tears were ſhed with additional diſtreſs every time; till at = ay a certain allowance for 7 = cloths; A mother can eaſily; v ut ung to. ſerve how they ly.
value of mone ligec B contrive. This d be a practical leſſon of œconomy ſuperior to all the ries that could be thought of.
II; we havi ſtipend, too, would ſe of the word, as they would -then give their own; and by denying themſelves little. ornaments, and doing their own, work, they, mi the ſum appropria ſes.
- * o ** 4 — 8 2025 = INTE S A lively principle of this kind would alſo overcome indolence; for 1 have known people waſteful and penurious the fame time; but the waſteful- neſs was to ſpare themſelves tr and others only felt the effects of their penury, to make the balance even.
% Women too often confine their love and charity to their own families. They fix not in their minds the prece- dency of moral obligations, or make their feclings give way to duty. Good- will to all the human race ſhould * in our boſoms, nor ſhould love to in⸗ dividuals induce us te violate this, of duties, - tereſt of any fellow-creature, to promote that of another, whom we happen partial to. A parent, under „ ſhould be ſup- even though it | ſhould prevent our ſaving a fortune for a child; nay. more, ſhould they be both in diſtreſs at the ſame time, the prior obligation mould be firſt diſcharged.
Under this head may be included che treatment of animals. Over them many children tyrannize with impu- nityz and find amuſement in tormenting, or wantonly killing, any inſect that comes in their way, though it does them no injury. 1 am perſuaded, if they EST Benevolence, 143 they were told ſtories of them, and led to take an intereſt in their welfare and occupations, they would be tender to them; as it is, they think man the only thing of conſequence in the ere- ation. I once prevented a girl's kill- ing ants, for ſport, by adapting Mr. Addiſon's account of them to her un- derſtanding. Ever after ſhe was care- ful not to tread on them, leſt the ſhould diſtreſs the whole community.
EO 3 3 ': 1 Stories of inſects and animals are the firſt that ſhould rouſe the childiſh _ paſſions, and exerciſe humanity and then they will riſe to man, and Monger him to his Maker. e; 5 5 CARD.
ARD-playing is now the amuſement, I may ſay em of young and old, in genteel life.
: girls are fet down to card= forth. Avarice does not ey bairs and wrinkles, but marks a-countenance where and graces ought to revel. The hours .”
mind, or in innocent mirth, are t and if the ſtake is not ſions, loſt in inſipidi I * ba W : £ wo, 2 8 Card-Playing.” 145 quired which may lead to ſerious miſ- chief. Not to talk of gaming, many people play for more than they can well afford to loſe, and this ſours their temper. Cards are the univerſal refuge to which the idle and the ignorant re- ſort, to paſs life away, and to keep their- inactive ſouls awake, by the tumult of hope aid r ray hope aid r ray 4% Unknown to them, when ſenſual plea." 3 << fſuxes —. In je 85 e. To Gill the languid pauſe with finer joy; 6 © Unknown. thoſe powers that raiſe the foul, 45 to flame, is T A 47 Catch every nerve, | and vibrate through And, of courſe, this f is their favourite Ambſcment. Silent, ſtupid attention Mm: oo. appears 4 * — ppears neeeſſary; and too are eaſily wrought on. They want -not thoſe reſources „which even re- ſpectable and ſenfible perſons ſome- im d neceſſary, when they ſee ife, as it is unſatisfactorys and cannot eaſures, which they know Card-Playin 7 is the ſeaſon of activity, and ſhould not be loſt i liſtleffnefs. Knowledge rors of paſſion» may produce uſefub e- ] | perience, expand the facultivs, anc teach them to know their own- hearts. The moſt ſhining abilities, and the moſt amiable. diſpoſitions of the mind, * THEATRE.
HE amuſements which this place | afford are generally _— he moſt rational, and are really ſo to a. cultivated mind; yet one that is not tc 7 quite formed may learn affectation at the chentre. Many of our admired tragedies are too full of declamation, and a falſe diſplay of the paſſions. © A ine is often made to grieve ten or yet the unabated ſorrow has not given her cheeks a pallid hue; ſe ſtill inſpires the moſt violent paſſion in every beholder, and _ her own yields not to time. The prominent features of a paſſion. are eaſily The Theatre. -copied, while the more delicate touches are overlooked. That ſtart of Corelia's, when her father ſays, 1 tink that Lady is my daughter,” has affected me beyond meaſure,. when 1 could unmoved hear Caliſta deſeribe the cave in which ſhe would live Until her tears had waſhed her g - The principal characters are too frequently made to riſe above human nature, or fink below it; and this occaſions many falſe concluſions. The 24 ES: + - - dramatic performances ould be to teach us to. diſcriminate characters; but if we. reſt. in ſeparat- pbe. L 3: ing * - 4ng'the good from the bad, we are very fuperficial obſervers. May I ven- ture a conjeQure?—TI cannot help thinking, chat every human creature has fome ſpark of goodneſs, which "chew long-ſuffering and benevolent Father gives them an opportunity of improving, though they may perverſely ſmother it before they ceaſe to breathe; Death is treated in too flight a manner; and ſought, when diſappoint- ments occur, with a degree of impa- tience, which proves that the main end of life has not been conſidered. puniſhment- of fin, and convulſion of nature, is too often ex- * The Meatre.
F 1 lately I never had the courage even to look at a perſon dying on the ſtage. 3 The hour of death is not the time for the diſplay of paſſions z nor do 1!
think it natural it ſhould: the mi is then dreadfully diſturbed, and the 785 3 J trifling ſorrows of this world not thought of. The deaths on the ſtage, in ſpite of the boaſted ſenſibility, of the age, ſcem to have much the fame effect on a polite audience, as the ex- ecution of inalefactors has on the mob that follow them to Tyburn. Tze worſt ſpecies of immorality is in- culcated, and life (which is to determine the fate of eternity) thrown away when LS L 4 a king- 0 à kingdom or-miſtreſs is loſt. Pa- ience and ſubmiſſion to the will of Heaven, and thoſe virtues which ren- | der us uſeful to ſociety, are not brought forward to view 3 nor can they occa- E ſſion thoſe: ſurpriſing turns of fortune which moſt delight vulgar minds. The almoſt imperceptible progreſs of the paſſions, which Shakeſpeare has fo _ *inely delineated, are not ſufficiently | obſerved, though the ſtart of the actor is applauded. Few tragedies, I think, will pleaſe a perſon of diſcernment, and their ſenſibility is fure to be hurt.
. 4 h: .
7 Et | Young perſons, who are happily "ſituared, do well to enter into ficti- + tious * I" 52 8 ag? * *.
1 a judicious perſon to direct their judg- 4 fitably be rouſed, if they were to ſee 2 out, and vanity ridiculed, it may l tous diſtreſs; and if they hate ß ment, it may be improved while their hearts are melted. Yet I would not | have them confine their compaſſion to the diſtreſſes occaſioned by love; and perhaps their feelings might more profometimes the complicated miſery of fickneſs and poverty, and weep for the Comedy is not now ſo cenſurable as I it was ſome years ago; and a chaſte *2 car is not often ſhocked with indeo cencies. When follies are pointed 8 N 4 1 2 Wag The Theatre, 75 * kingdom or miſtreſs is loſt. Pa- = tience and ſubmiſſion to the will of \ Heaven, and thoſe virtues which ren- der us uſeful to ſociety, are not brought forward to view; nor can they occa- ſion thoſe ſu cpriſing turns of fortune which moſt delight vulgar minds. The almoſt imperceptible progreſs of the paſſions, which Shakeſpeare has fo . finely delineated, are not ſufficientiy obſerved, though the ſtart of the actor is applauded. Few tragedies, I think, will pleaſe a perſon of diſcernment, and their ſenſibility is fure to be hurt.
* do well to enter into ficti-; 4 4 tious fitably be rouſed, if they. were toſce fometimes the complicated miſery of g cencies. When follies are pointed The Theatre. tious diſtreſs; and if they have any judicious perſon to direct their judg= ment, it may be improved while their hearts are melted. Vet I would not Pa Li * have them confine- their compaſſion to the diſtreſſes occaſioned by love; and perhaps their feelings might more proſickneſs and poverty, and weep for the | | 1 beggar inſtead of the king. FRY Comedy is not now ſo cenſurable a- it was ſome years ago; and a chaſte car is not often ſhocked with, inde * [oo dh: EE very \ 0 - play, and not to ſhew themſelves a T have faid is certainly only applicable to thoſe who go to ſee the waſte time. The moſt infignificant amuſement will afford inſtruQtion to thinking „and the moſt rational will be loſt on a vacant one.
Remarks on the actors are fre- quently very tireſome. It is a fa- fhionable topic, and a thread-bare one; it requires great abilities, and petent judge; and thoſe who do not enter into the ſpirit of the author, are not qualified to eonverſe' with dence on the ſubject.
NDER this head I rank all thoſe places, which are open to an indiſcriminate reſort of company. There 1 ſeems at preſent ſuch a rage for plea- 3 1 Fare, that when adverſity does not cal! tome the thoughts, the whole day is | - moſtly ſpent in preparations and plans, - ?
or in actual diſſipation: Solitude ap- pears inſupportable, and domeſtic comfort ſtupid. And though the a- muſements- may not always be reliſh--.
* ed, the mind is ſo enervated it cannot exert itſelf to find out any other ſubſtitute. An immoderate fondneſs for dreſs is aeguired, and many faſhion-- able Fe = Public Plates: Ew 197 able females ſpend: half the Wbt in going from one place to another to diſplay their finery, repeat common- place compliments, and raiſe envy in their acquaintance whom they endea- vour to outſhine. Women, who are engaged in thoſe ſcenes, muſt ſpend more time in dreſs than they ought to do, and it will occupy their thoughts when they ſhould be ae eure 2 8 In the fine Lady how. few traits do ve obſerve of thoſe. affections wbich | dignify human nature! If ſhe has any maternal tenderneſs, it is of a childiſh bind. We cannot be too careful not 10 verge on this character; though 88 e | 5 hs W.
4 83 \ . 1 "A is Public Places.: > ſhe lives many years ſhe is {till a child in underſtanding, and of ſo little uſe to ſociety, that her death wookt fearcely be obſerved.
Diffipation leads to- poverty, which eannot be patiently borne by thoſe who have lived on the vain applauſe of 8 on _—_— oy S's advan- 3 of #2 eee na courſe they are tormented with falſe ſhame, when by a reverſe of fortune TO are deprived of them.
2 4 * young innocent girl, when ſhe dit enters into gay ſcenes, finds her 5? | | 5 PE | ſpirits þ 4 J 4 3 %.
Hr of the world are prematurely forced vice poiſons every enjoyment, and af, occur, languor follows the extraordir e r Public Places. 159 ſpirits ſo raiſed by them, that ſhe would | vt often be loſt in delight, if ſhe was not checked by obſerving the behaviour _ of a claſs of females who attend thoſe _ places. What a painful train of re- 3 flections do then ariſe in the mind, 4 and convictions of the vice and folly 3 on it. It is no longer a paradiſe, for innocence is not there; the taint f fectation, though deſpiſed, 18 very con- tagious. If theſe reflections do not nary exertions, and weak minds fall a prey to imaginary diſtreſs, to baniſh» I which they are obliged to take as a re E medy what produced the diſeaſe. » tz-yet even in Bike 3 of felaxation we-are acquir- 3 = ing habits: A mind accuſtomed to A * —— can never be quite idle, and ; improvement on all occa- - x — , every 50 5 Ahoy to prepare us for a © Rate of puri and happineſs. There Py e ed folly will not poiſon o 1 8 will expand, eir objects; and we 1 * oF "as d through-a 1 as. we # *