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. Besides 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 regulated accord take, in having supposed that the mere material elements upon 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 happi-ingly; for whatever the degree of familiarity ness 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 profound 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, truehearted 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 retain 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 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 the deepest, and are consequently the most concealed. But to return to the subject of duty; in the act of entertaining 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 necessarily 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 another, 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 beyond 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 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. The authority of teachers, and unfortunately sometimes that of parents too, extends only to those hours of discipline 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 play-ground, 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 guiltles sof all taint from selfish or malignant feeling, may safely be trusted when they are in earn est. the mind, or the embellishment of the character in general, how can the mistress of a family throw around the scenes of homeenjoyments 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 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. 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 potent workings of the human heart. But if she has studied those accomplishments 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 beneath her roof the most privileged perhaps of a whole lifetime-moments in which good impressions were rendered in-haps still less our public ones, so much as the delible as being accompanied by the most delightful associations-moments retained within the richest treasury of memory, to be made the pattern of the choicest intercourse, and the highest intellectual communion through other chains of association, extending onwards from family 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 fellowship 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 to wards a happier and holier state of exist To the married woman, then, it is a serious thing 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 precepts which have weight, and per influence of individual character upon a surrounding circle, and through that circle upon the world at large. The English wife should, therefore, regard 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 disruption 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 forever and forever. Is it then a subject merely to be glanced over with a careless wish that we could be useful to our fellow-creatures ?-that we could leave on the minds of those who will Without having studied the cultivation of remember us when we are dead, some last ence. ing impress worthy 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, whether 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 generation to anotherfrom 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 arrested 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 considering 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 injunctions 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. 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 gene ral 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 hospitality 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 the greatest happiness they enjoy; for it is perhaps the only disadvantage accompanying an excess of this home-feeling, that the more perfect is the satisfaction with which we gather into the domestic circle, the less willingness we feel that a stranger should “intermeddle with its joys." Thus we sometimes find a sort of household exclusiveness, 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 the practices of others. It is needless to say that such persons have little weight to throw into the scale of social influence either on the side of good or evil, for the absurdities they exhibit to the world effectually 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 shou'd ask ourselves 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 feelings 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 constitute the next generation of men of business-men who will give the weight of extensive influence either to the side of good, or evil, that strong feeling of household exclusiveness, 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 human nature is composed, and compare these with the situation 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 cordiality they meet with on the opposite side; the scanty welcomes, the cold notice, and the treatment equally distant 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 the other. Young men, too, are often diffident of their own attractions in polished society, and sometimes not without considerable 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 slights them not for want of polished manners. She heeds neither personal inferiority, nor unfashionable attire. All-all are welcome, from the raw stripling, to the friendless stranger, who finds not in the wide world another or a safer home. In contemplating this view of the subject, I have often thought, what an amount of good might be effected, if a little more attraction were held out by Christians in general, towards persons of this class. We ought seriously to question, 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 public worship, when a few more welcomes into Christian families might possibly do more for their real good, than many sermons without participation in the real comforts of any respectable home. Nor is it the mere invitation of such persons at stated times, which can effect the good so much required, the mere bestowment of a dinner, or the mere permission to come on Sundays and be present during the hours of family devotion. Good as this unquestionably is, there is something 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 familiar, 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 affairs, which evince an interest in the situation and circumstances 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 is 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 wholesome one in its effect upon our own conduct towards others, by teaching us how to soothe, where through ignorance 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 remembering our Creator, and the Giver of all our blessings as they would cherish its buoyant hopes, strengthen its high capabilities, and lay 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 manner; but to extend it to those who, though comparatively strangers, share in the affections and the feelings of a common nature, and who are now undergoing the formation of their characters for time and for eternity. "Not following lower things,"-was a noble motto adopted by a noble queen,* when she chose as emblematical of the course she intended to pursue, a marigold turning to the sun. Although nothing could be more at variance 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 aggrandizement as regards mere sublunary things; there is an ambition, 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 * Marguarite of Valois, sister of Francis I., and Queen of Navarre. 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 this subject, in its vastness and its depth-its absorbing interests, 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 conducted in the spirit which ought to regulate the Christian's life. Some good persons err on these points from ignorance, some from want of thought, and many from not regarding 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 endeavors, 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 prevent the attainment of what is great. The more circumscribed our influence, the less this tendency is seen and felt; but when we take the direction of a household, and consequently have much to do with the formation of the characters around us, this tenden |