IT is observable that the trivial services of social life are bestperformed, and the lesser particles of domestic happiness are mostskilfully organized, by the deepest and the fairest heart. It is anerror to suppose that homely minds are the best administrators ofsmall duties. Who does not know how wretched a contradiction such arule receives in the moral economy of many a home? how often thedaily troubles, the swarm of blessed cares, the innumerable minutiaeof arrangement in a family, prove quite too much for the generalshipof feeble minds, and even the clever selfishness of strong ones; howa petty and scrupulous anxiety in defending with infiniteperseverance some small and almost invisible point of frugality, andcomfort, surrenders the greater unobserved, and while saving money,ruins minds; how, on the other hand, a rough and unmellowed sagacityrules indeed, and without defeat, but while maintaining in actionthe mechanism of government, creates a constant and intolerablefriction, a gathering together of reluctant wills, a groaning underthe consciousness of force, that make the movements of life fret andchafe incessantly? But where, in the presiding genius of a home,taste and sympathy unite (and in their genuine forms they cannot beseparated)--the intelligent feeling for moral beauty, and the deepheart of domestic love,--with, what ease, what mastery, whatgraceful disposition, do the seeming trivialities of life fall intoorder, and drop a blessing as they take their place! how do thehours steal away, unnoticed but by the precious fruits they leave!and by the self-renunciation of affection, there comes a spontaneousadjustment of various wills; and not an innocent pleasure is lost,not a pure taste offended, nor a peculiar temper unconsidered; andevery day has its silent achievements of wisdom, and every night itsretrospect of piety and love; and the tranquil thoughts, that in theevening meditation come down with the starlight, seem like theserenade of angels, bringing in melody the peace of God!
Whereverthis picture is realized, it is not by microscopic solicitude ofspirit, but by comprehension of mind, and enlargement of heart; bythat breadth and nicety of moral view which discerns everything indue proportion, and in avoiding an intense elaboration of trifles,has energy to spare for what is great; in short, by a perceptionakin to that of God, whose providing frugality is on an infinitescale, vigilant alike in heaven and on, earth; whose art colours auniverse with beauty and touches with its pencil the petals of aflower. A soul thus pure and large disowns the paltry rules ofdignity, the silly notions of great and mean, by which fashiondistorts God's real proportions; is utterly delivered from thespirit of contempt; and, in consulting for the benign administrationof life, will learn many a truth, and discharge many ant office,from which lesser beings, esteeming themselves greater, would shrinkfrom as ignoble. But in truth, nothing is degrading which a high andgraceful purpose ennobles; and offices the most menial cease to bemenial, the moment they are wrought in love. What thousand servicesare rendered, ay, and by delicate hands, around the bed of sickness,which, else considered mean, become at once holy and quiteinalienable rights! To smooth the pillow, to proffer the draught, tosoothe or obey the fancies of the delirious will, to sit for hoursas the mere sentinel of the feverish sleep; these things aresuddenly erected, by their relation to hope and life, into sacredprivileges. And experience is perpetually bringing occasions,similar in kind, though of less persuasive poignancy, when a trueeye and a lovely heart will quickly see the relations of thingsthrown into a new position, and calling for a sacrifice ofconventional order to the higher laws of the affections; and alikewithout condescension and without ostentation, will noiselessly takethe post of service and do the kindly deed. Thus it is that thelesser graces display themselves most richly, like the leaves andflowers of life, where there is the deepest and the widest root oflove; not like the staring and artificial blossoms of dry customthat, winter or summer, cannot change; but living petals woven inNature's workshop and folded by her tender skill, opening andshutting morning and night, glancing and trembling in the sunshineand in the breeze. This easy capacity of great affections for smallduties is the peculiar triumph of the highest spirit of love.
THE END.
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