most useful and active member of society; and when love no longer demands toil and trouble, when every triumph is a mere repetition of the last, when success has lost something of its value, along with its novelty, the taste for activity no longer finds its appropriate food, and turns to fresh objects of pursuit. The necessity for occupation and for progress is of the very essence of our souls; and if our husbands are guided by reason in the choice of occupation, we ought not to pout because they do not sit with us so often as formerly, by the silver brook or under the beech-tree. At first I too found it hard to endure the change. But my husband talked to me about it with perfect frankness and sincerity. "The joy with which you receive me," said he, "does not conceal your vexation, and your saddened eye tries in vain to assume a cheerful look; I see what you want-that I would sit as I used to do on the mossy bank, hang on all your steps, and live on your breath; but this is impossible. I would bring you down from the top of the church-steeple on a rope-ladder, at the peril of my life, if I could obtain you in no other way; but now, as I have you fast in my arms, as all dangers are passed and all obstacles overcome, my passion can no longer find satisfaction in that way. What has once been sacrificed to my self-love ceases to be a sacrifice. The spirit of invention, discovery, and conquest, inherent in man, demands a new Before I obtained you I used all the virtues I possessed as steps by which to reach you; but now, as I have you, I place you at the top of them, and you are the highest step from which I now hope to ascend higher." Little as I relished the notion of the church-pleasure of seeing mine at my feet. Opportower, or the honour of serving as the highest tunities for this present themselves far more step under my husband's feet, time and reflec- frequently to those who do not seek, but seem tion on the course of human affairs convinced to avoid them, than to those who allow themme that the thing could not be otherwise. I selves to be found on the mossy bank at all therefore turned my active mind, which would times, and as often as it pleases their lord and perhaps in time have been tired of the mossy master. bank, to the domestic business which came within my department; and when we had both been busy and bustling in our several ways, and could tell each other in the evening what we had been doing, he in the fields, and I in the house or the garden, we were often more happy and contented than the most loving couple in the world.


Do you wish not to fall into this state, my dear child? Follow my example, and do not torment yourself and your excellent husband with unreasonable exactions. Don't think, however, that I have entirely renounced the

I still sometimes sing to my little grandchildren, when they come to see me, a song which, in the days when his love had still to contend with all sorts of obstacles, used to throw him into raptures; and when the little ones cry, "Ancora! ancora! grandmamma," his eyes fill with tears of joy. I asked him once whether he would not now think it too dangerous to bring me down a rope-ladder from the top of the church-steeple, upon which he called out as vehemently as the children, "O, ancora! grandmamma, ancora!"

And, what is best of all, this pleasure has not left us after thirty years of marriage. We talk with as much animation as ever of our domestic affairs; I have learned to know all my husband's tastes, and I relate to him whatever I think likely to please him out of journals,

whether political or literary; I recommend books to him, and lay them before him; I carry on the correspondence with our married children, and often delight him with good news of them and our little grandchildren. As to his accounts, I understand them as well as he, and make them easier to him by having mind of all the yearly outlay which passes through my hands, ready and in order; if necessary, I can send in a statement to the treasury chamber, and my hand makes as good a figure in our cash-book as his; we are accustomed to the same order, we know the spirit of all our affairs and duties, and we have one aim and one rule in all our undertakings.

This would never have been the case if we had played the part of tender lovers after marriage as well as before, and had exhausted our energies in asseverations of mutual love. We should perhaps have regarded each other with ennui, and have soon found the grotto too damp, the evening air too cool, the noontide too hot, the morning fatiguing. We should have longed for visitors, who when they came would not have been amused, and would have impatiently awaited the hour of departure, or, if we went to them, would have wished us away. Spoiled by effeminate trifling, we should have wanted to continue to trifle, and to share in pleasures we could not enjoy; or have been compelled to find refuge at the card-table-the last place at which the old can figure with the young.

P.S. One thing, my dear child, I forgot. It seems to me that you trust too entirely to

your good cause and your good heart (perhaps, too, a little to your blue eyes), and do not deign to try to attract your husband anew.

I fancy you are at home, just as you were a week ago, in society, at our excellent G's, where I found you as stiff and silent as if you had met only to tire each other to death. Did you not observe how soon I set the whole company in motion? This was merely by a few words addressed to each on the subject I thought most agreeable or most flattering to him. After a time the others began to feel more happy and at their ease, and we parted in high spirits and good humour.

What I did there I do daily at home. I try to make myself and all around me agreeable. It will not do to leave a man to himself till he comes to you, to take no pains to attract him, or to appear before him with a long face. But it is not so difficult as you think, dear child,

to behave to a husband so that he shall remain for ever in some measure a lover. I am an

old woman, but you can still do what you like;

a word from you at the right time will not fail of its effect. What need have you to play the suffering virtue? The tear of a loving girl, says an old book, is like a dew-drop on the rose; but that on the cheek of a wife is a drop of poison to her husband. Try to appear cheerful and contented, and your husband will be so; and when you have made him happy, you will become so, not in appearance, but in reality.

The skill required is not so great. Nothing flatters a man so much as the happiness of his wife; he is always proud of himself as the source of it. As soon as you are cheerful you will be lively and alert, and every moment will afford you an opportunity of letting fall an agreeable word. Your education, which gives you an immense advantage, will greatly assist you; and your sensibility will become the noblest gift that nature has bestowed on you, when it shows itself in affectionate assiduity, and stamps on every action a soft, kind, and tender character, instead of wasting itself in secret repinings.


Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen,
Bear flowers we see, full fresh and fair of hue;
Poison is also put in medicine,

And unto man his health doth oft renew;
The fire that all things eke consumeth clean,
May hurt and heal: then if that this be true,
I trust sometime my harm may be my health,
Since every woe is joined with some wealth.
SIR THOMAS WYAT (1503-1541).



Oh, open the door, some pity to show,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh!

Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh!

Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek, The frost that freezes the life at my heart,

But caulder thy love for me, Oh!

Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh!

The wan moon is setting behind the white wave,

False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
And time is setting with me, Oh!
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh!

She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide;

She sees his pale corse on the plain, Oh!

My true love! she cried, and sank down by his side,

Never to rise again, Oh!



O mirk, mirk is the midnight hour,
And loud the tempest's roar;
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tow',
Lord Gregory, ope thy door!

An exile frae her father's ha',
And a' for loving thee;

At least some pity on me shaw,
If love it may not be.

Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove,
By bonnie Irwine side,
Where first I own'd that virgin-love
I lang, lang had denied?

How aften didst thou pledge and vow
Thou wad for aye be mine;
And my fond heart, itsel' sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine.

Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast-
Thou dart of heav'n that flashest by,
O wilt thou give me rest!

Ye mustering thunders from above, Your willing victim see!

But spare, and pardon my false love, His wrangs to Heaven and me!


[Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, born 21st March, 1763, at Wonsiedel, Baireuth; died 14th November, 1825. Carlyle says of him, that with "his hundred

He wrote

real and ten thousand seeming faults," he possessed the "spirit of a true poet and philosopher. A poet, and among the highest of his time we must reckon him, though he wrote no verses; a philosopher, though he promulgated no systems; for, on the whole, that 'divine idea of the world' stood in clear ethereal light before his mind; he recognized the Invisible, even under the mean forms of these days, and with a high strong not uninspired heart, strove to represent it in the Visible, and publish tidings of it to his fellow-man." numerous miscellaneous papers, and many novels which would be more appropriately designated studies of life. His chief works are: Greenland Law-suits-"a collection of satirical sketches full of wild gay wit and keen insight"-Selections from the Papers of the Devil; Invisible Lodge; Hesperus; Titan; Wild Oats (Flegeljahre); Flower, Fruit and Thorn Pieces; Life of Quintus Fixlein; Parson in Jubilee; Biographical Recreations under the Cranium of a Giantess; Fibel's Life; Katzenberger's Journey to the Bath; Schmelzles' Journey to Flätz; The Comet, or Nicholaus Margraf; Autobiography, &c ]

The inner man, like the negro, is born white, but is coloured black by life. In advanced age the grandest moral examples pass by us, and our life-course is no more altered by them than the earth is by a flitting comet; but in childhood the first object that excites the sentiment of love or of injustice flings broad and deep its light or shadow over the coming years; and as, according to ancient theologians, it was only the first sin of Adam, not his subsequent ones, which descended to us by inheritance, so that since the One Fall we make the rest for our

selves, in like manner the first fall and the first ascent influence the whole life.


Sublimity is the staircase to the temple of religion, as the stars are to immensity. When the vast is manifested in nature, as in a storm, thunder, the starry firmament, death, then utter the name of God before your child. Signal calamity, rare success, a great crime, a noble action, are the spots upon which to erect the child's tabernacle of worship.

came, without words, a teacher of religion to children.

Always exhibit before children, even upon the borders of the holy land of religion, solemn and devout emotions. These will extend to them, unveiling at length the object by which they are excited, though at the beginning they are awe-struck with you, not knowing wherefore. Newton, who uncovered his head when the greatest name was pronounced, thus be

Instead of carrying children frequently to public worship, I should prefer simply to conduct them upon great days in nature or in human life into the empty church, and there show them the holy place of adults. To this I might add twilight, night, the organ, the hymn, the priest, exhortation; and so by a mere walk through the building, a more serious impression might remain in their young hearts than after a whole year of common church routine. Let every hour in which their hearts are consecrated to religion, be to them as absorbing as that in which they partake for the first time of the Lord's Supper.

Let the Protestant child show reverence to the Catholic images of saints by the road-side -the same as to the ancient Druidical oak of his ancestors. Let him as lovingly accept different forms of religion among men, as different languages, wherein there is still but one human mind expressed. Every genius has most power in his own tongue, and every heart in its own religion.


Who has not felt with me, that frequently a rural nosegay, which was our delight when we were children in the village, through its old fragrance produces for us in cities, in the advanced years of manhood, an indescribably rapturous return to godlike childhood, and like a flowery divinity wafts us upward to the first encircling aurora-cloud of our earliest obscure sensations. But could such a remembrance so forcibly surprise us, were not the child's perception of flowers most powerful and interior?


How should it be otherwise? I can bear a

melancholy man, but never a melancholy child. Into whatever quagmire the former sinks, he may raise his eyes either to the realm of reason and perishes in a single black poison-drop of or to that of hope; but the little child sinks ducted to the scaffold-Cupid in a German the present time. Only imagine a child concoffin-or fancy a butterfly crawling like a caterpillar with his four wings pulled off, and you will feel what I mean.


You need not surround your children, like those of the nobility, with a little world of turner's toys. Let their eggs be white, not

ing what it had said and done. In all those cases in which we do not desire to mirror before the child the black image of a lie, it is sufficient to say, "Be sober, have done with play."

Finally, we must distinguish between untruths relating to the future and the past. We do not attribute to a grown man who breaks his word in reference to some future performance, that blackness of perjury which we charge on him who falsifies what has been already done; so with children, before whose brief vision time, like space, is immeasurable, and who are as unable to look through a day, as we through a year, we should widely separate untruthfulness of promise from untruthfulness of assertion. Truth is a divine blossom upon an earthly root; of course, it is in time not the earliest, but the latest virtue.



Only place all life before the child as within the realm of humanity, and thus the greater reveals to him the less. Put life and soul into everything: describe to him even the lily, which he would pull up as an unorganized thing, as the daughter of a slender mother, standing in her garden-bed, from whom her little white offspring derives nutriment and moisture. let not this be done to excite an empty enervated habit of pity, a sort of inoculation-hospital for foreign pains, but from the religious cultivation of reverence for life, the God all-moving in the tree-top and the human brain. The love of animals, like maternal affections, has this advantage, that it is disinterested and claims no return, and can also at every moment find an object and an opportunity for its exercise.

figured and painted; they can dress them out | me various appearances of a Christ-child, tell

of their own imaginations. On the contrary, the older man grows, the larger reality appears. The fields which glisten for the young with the morning dew of love's brightness, chill the gray, half-blind old man with heavy evening damps, and at last he requires an entire world, even the second, barely to live in.


Truthfulness is not so much a branch as a blossom of moral, manly strength. The weak, whether they will or not, must lie. As respects children, for the first five years they utter neither truth nor falsehood-they only speak. Their talk is thinking aloud; and as one half of their thought is often an affirmative, and the other a negative, and, unlike us, both escape from them, they seem to lie, while they are only talking with themselves. Besides, at first they love to sport with their new art of speech; and so talk nonsense merely to hear themselves. Often they do not understand your question, and give an erroneous, rather than a false reply. We may ask, besides, whether, when children seem to imagine and falsify, they are not often relating their remembered dreams, which necessarily blend in them with actual experience.

Children everywhere fly on the warm, sunny side of hope. They say, when the bird or the dog has escaped from them, without any reason for the expectation-"he will come back again soon." And since they are incapable of distinguishing hope, that is, imagination, from reflection or truth, their self-delusion consequently assumes the appearance of falsehood. For instance, a truthful little girl described to



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