Employment.—Idleness produces Misery.—The Cultivation of the Fancy raises
us above the Vulgar, extends our Happiness, and leads to Virtue.
One afternoon, Mrs. Mason gave the children leave to amuse themselves;
but a kind of listlessness hung over them, and at a loss what to do, they
seemed fatigued with doing nothing. They eat cakes though they had just
dined, and did many foolish things merely because they were idle. Their
friend seeing that they were irresolute, and could not fix on any
employment, requested Caroline to assist her to make some clothes, that a
poor woman was in want of, and while we are at work, she added, Mary will
read us an entertaining tale, which I will point out.
The tale interested the children, who chearfully attended, and after it
was finished, Mrs. Mason told them, that as she had some letters to
write, she could not take her accustomed walk; but that she would allow
them to represent her, and act for once like women. They received their
commission, it was to take the clothes to the poor woman, whom they were
intended for; learn her present wants; exercise their own judgment with
respect to the immediate relief she stood in need of, and act
accordingly.
They returned home delighted, eager to tell what they had done, and how
thankful, and happy they had left the poor woman.
Observe now, said Mrs. Mason, the advantages arising from employment;
three hours ago, you were uncomfortable, without being sensible of the
cause, and knew not what to do with yourselves. Nay, you actually
committed a sin; for you devoured cakes without feeling hunger, merely to
kill time, whilst many poor people have not the means of satisfying their
natural wants. When I desired you to read to me you were amused; and now
you have been useful you are delighted. Recollect this in future when
you are at a loss what to do with yourselves—and remember that idleness
must always be intolerable, because it is only an irksome consciousness
of existence.
Every gift of Heaven is lent to us for our improvement; fancy is one of
the first of the inferiour ones; in cultivating it, we acquire what is
called taste, or a relish for particular employments, which occupy our
leisure hours, and raise us above the vulgar in our conversation. Those
who have not any taste talk always of their own affairs or of their
neighbours; every trivial matter that occurs within their knowledge they
convass and conjecture about—not so much out of ill-nature as idleness:
just as you eat the cakes without the impulse of hunger. In the same
style people talk of eating and dress, and long for their meals merely to
divide the day, because the intermediate time is not employed in a more
interesting manner. Every new branch of taste that we cultivate, affords
us a refuge from idleness, a fortress in which we may resist the assaults
of vice; and the more noble our employments, the more exalted will our
minds become.
Music, drawing, works of usefulness and fancy, all amuse and refine the
mind, sharpen the ingenuity; and form, insensibly, the dawning
judgment.—As the judgment gains strength, so do the passions also; we
have actions to weigh, and need that taste in conduct, that delicate
sense of propriety, which gives grace to virtue. The highest branch of
solitary amusement is reading; but even in the choice of books the fancy
is first employed; for in reading, the heart is touched, till its
feelings are examined by the understanding, and the ripenings of reason
regulate the imagination. This is the work of years, and the most
important of all employments. When life advances, if the heart has been
capable of receiving early impressions, and the head of reasoning and
retaining the conclusions which were drawn from them; we have acquired a
stock of knowledge, a gold mine which we can occasionally recur to,
independent of outward circumstances.
The supreme Being has every thing in Himself; we proceed from Him, and
our knowledge and affections must return to Him for employment suited to
them. And those who most resemble Him ought, next to Him, to be the
objects of our love; and the beings whom we should try to associate with,
that we may receive an inferiour degree of satisfaction from their
society.—But be assured our chief comfort must ever arise from the mind’s
reviewing its own operations—and the whispers of an approving conscience,
to convince us that life has not slipped away unemployed.