CHAPTER V. Do small faults continually repeated, always retain their origi nal diminutiveness? Before we positively determine that small faults are innocent, we must undertake to prove that they shall never outgrow their primitive dimensions. MRS. HANNAH MORE. THE next morning, whilst seated around the breakfast table, an evening walk to the carpenter's cottage was proposed by Mrs. Clifford and Emma. I was therefore somewhat surprised on returning to my friend's house at the close of the day, to find the latter at home, and alone. How is this, Emma ?" said I; "I thought you were to have accompanied your mother this evening?" 66 Emma's eyes were already filled with tears, which at the question trickled down her cheek. She blushed, hesitated, and then said, "I have offended my mother, sir." I was sorry I had made any remark, and continued silent; till my friend soon after entered the room, and proposed walking to the village of H-y, to meet Mrs. Clifford, who was alone. On our way thither, as soon as the noise of rattling wheels would permit, I mentioned my surprise at finding Emma at home. To this M. Clifford replied, in nearly the following words: "You may have observed that each of our girls is accustomed to contribute her little stock of usefulness to the general order and comfort of the family. Not so much,' says their mother, on occount of the trifling assistance they can render, as for the sake of forming habits of industry.' From employments of this kind, Emma is naturally averse: an evil, which not the most unremitting watchfulness has hitherto availed entirely to eradicate. Today a glaring instance of this fault occurred; occasioned, I believe, by too eager an anticipation of this evening's visit." "Well, then," said I, "as this negligence arose from so amiable a quality as benevolence, surely, for once, it should have been overlooked." Clifford shook his head. "You are not a parent, and perhaps can be little aware of the weighty responsibility which this relationship involves. Reflect for a moment on the results which might possibly accrue from neglecting to check this fault, merely because it was connected with a quality in itself amiable. Might not the occasional negligence, if indulged in youth, in maturer years ripen into a habit of confirmed indolence? Would it be surprising, if, at a future day, the same unrestrained tenderness of heart which has now betrayed her into the omission of a wellknown duty, should on some more important occasion induce her to overlook the interests of a husband, and the welfare of a family ?" "Hold! hold! my friend," I cried, "you need go no farther: I am already convinced it is right that Emma should be punished: and, I doubt not, but that in the performance of her neglected avocations, she will effectually learn the importance of every one's first attending to their own immediate duties. Nor do I think that you need fear her erring very greatly in this way, with such an example as her mother's constantly before her. And now we are on the subject, Clifford, I cannot help entirely recalling my former assertion, that the refined and delicate Emma Talbut was incapable of making good tradesman's wife." Clifford. Your acknowledgment is indeed candid; but at the same time it must be remembered, that it is not every woman of a cultivated mind who would become a prudent wife. Bently. No, of that I am fully aware; but how is it that Mrs. Clifford contrives to unite qualities which I once deemed incompatible? Clifford. It is because she possesses one excellence which is indeed the cement and the crown of every other. Bently. What is that? Bently. Religion! I thought that religion made people indifferent and inattentive to their worldly interests, and the common avocations of life. Clifford.-If rightly felt and understood, I am persuaded it renders its possessors more attentive to their common duties; and if you will not think me too personal, I will tell you how it operated on my Emma's character, in this respect. I assured Mr. Clifford it would oblige me if he thus explained himself, and he then pursued the subject as follows: "During the first years of our union, we both were strangers to the vital power of this heavenly principle and tenderly as I loved and esteemed her, I must own that I found frequent cause to wish Emma had been more domesticated, or that my income was larger. God, however, had purposes of mercy towards us both, though for a while he was pleased to shake the foundations of our earthly happiness, and darken the sunshine of our days, that we might learn to look beyond this world. The birth of our dear Emma, was the commencement of a long and dangerous illness, which threatened to deprive me of her beloved mother. The prospect of separation was too much for my fortitude. I found myself in the situation of the shipwrecked mariner, who feels the last plank sinking beneath him, and sees no refuge but in despair. In this frame, I one evening entered the sick chamber of Emma; it was the depth of winter, my beloved wife, exhausted by protracted pain and languor, reclined on a sofa near the fire, the shadow of her former self,-a Bible which had for some time been her constant companion, but which on my entrance had till then been laid aside, was on this occasion suffered to remain open on her lap, but her tears fell too fast to admit of her reading it. I seated myself beside her; she laid her emaciated hand on mine, and rested her cheek wet with tears on my shoulder. Put away that book, my love,' said I, 'it is too serious for you to read at present. I have thought for a long while. that it oppresses your weak spirits. As I spoke, I gently removed the hand which pressed the sacred page, and attempted to close the book; but she prevented me, saying: "No, my Edward, you must not prohibit me from reading this volume; you must rather read it to me. Here,' she continued, pointing to a verse in the chapter before her, here is a truth, which deeply concerns us both. Again she reclined her head on my shoulder, and wept. I cast my eyes on the passage to which she pointed, and read: My people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and have hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.' I read it, but not feeling then, as Emma did, |