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man. Why did you not instantly give her what money you had in your purse? Did you not know that there are six dollars in your bureau, and that it will be quarter day in eight or ten days? I pressed my wife to my bosom and dropped a tear. You are more righteous ihan I! I thank you! keep your ring; you have made me blush. I then went to the bureau and took six dollars. When I was going to open the door to call the widow, I was seized with horror, because I had said, Indeed I cannot help you. O thou traitorous tongue! thou deceitful heart ! - There take the money you want, She seemed at first not to understand me, thinking it was only a small contribution; kissed my hand, and was going to thank me: but her astonishment was so great, that she could not utter a word when she saw that it was more-that it was the whole sum she wanted. O! Sir ! how shall I thank you? I cannot repay you; have you understood me right? I have got nothing but this poor book and it is old. Keep your book and the money; and thank God and not me, Indeed, I do not deserve your thanks, because I have hesitated so long to assist youmgo in the name of God, and say, not a word more. I shut the door after her, and was so much ashamed, that I hardly could look at my wife. My dear! said she, make yourself easy; you have yielded to my admonitions; while I shall wear a golden ring on my finger (and you know I have several) you need not tell a fellow creature in distress that you cannot assist him. I pressed her to my bosom and wept.'
I dare say, my dear Sir, that you would be glad to be better acquainted with this good woman. I am sorry to say that the volume from which this extract is taken, affords but one more opportunity of introducing her to your notice. About three weeks after what I have just stated, the following circumstance occurred.
. My servant (says Lavater) asked me after dinner whether she should sweep my room. Yes, but you must not touch my books, nor my papers. This I spoke not with the gentle mild accent of a good heart! No! a secret uneasiness and fear, that it would give me some vexation, seemed to have taken place in my heart. After she had been gone some time, I said to my wife, I am afraid she will cause some confusion up stairs. My wife stole away a few moments after, with the best
patienventerin end, which
intention, in order to prevent any vexation of that sort, and commanded the servant to be careful.-Is my room not awept yet? exclaimed I at the bottom of the stairs. However instead of waiting patiently for an answer, I ran up stairs, and on my entering the room, the servant overturned an inkstand, which was stand. ing on the shelf. She was very much tërrified; and I called to her in very harsh terms: What a stupid beast you are! Have I not positively told you to be careful? My wife followed me up stairs, slow and fearful.-Instead of being asha. med my anger broke out anew; I took no notice of her; running to the table, lamenting and moaning, as if the most important writings had been spoiled, and rendered useless; although the ink had touched nothing but a blank sheet and some blotting paper. The servant watch. ed an opportunity to sneak away, and my wife approached me with timid mild. ness. My dear husband, she said-I stared at her with vexation in my looks -she embraced me I wanted to get out of her way her face rested on my cheek for a few moments—You hurt your health, my dear! she said at last with unspeakable tenderness.-I now began to be asha
med. I remained silent, and at last began to weep. What a miserable slave to my temper I am! I dare not lift up my eyes! I cannot rid myself of the dominion of that sinful passion! But, my dear, re, plied my wife, consider how many days and weeks pass without your being overcome by your anger: come along with me, we will pray together. She went , with me into her closet, praying so naturally., fervently, and so much to the purpose, that I thanked God sincerely for that hour, and for my wife, being extremely revived by her prayers.
The value of such a wife completely defies all comparison: it were degrading to the very best feelings of human nature, to pretend to compare any other advantage in this life, to the possession of such a woman. The man who enjoys such an ines imable treasure, must feel himself blest indeed. Such a man can agree with the late Mr. Newton, and adopt the language he used upon the twenty-fifth anniversary of his marriage:
,. For what this day recalls to mind,
To give, in giving you!
Invites my feeble lays;
But, Saviour, that we both are thine,
Demands my highest praise! Every season of the year, has peculiar pleasures for such 'a couple; but that season whichever it be, that gives them opportunities of enjoying most of each other's company, will always be considered by them, as the most advantageous to virtue and to happiness.
Somehow I seem to feel a kind of consciousness, that I have not done justice to this part of the subject; not that I have not written enough about it; but I fear not the best that the subject deserves. The best things I could think of have indeed been frequently repeated; as though conscious of not having reached the mark as yet, and determined to endeavour at it again and again, to make up if possible in the number of my quotations, what is deficient in the weight of my sentiments. However, as the even. ings are now long, and I am desirous to amuse, as well as to edify; I shall not close this letter, till I have given you another poetical extract, the excellence of which, will, I hope, be an abundant compensation for its great length. • But doubly blest is he, who can divide. His heart's best transports with a loving bride,