Visit to Mrs. Trueman.—The Use of Accomplishments.—Virtue the Soul of
all.
In the afternoon they visited Mrs. Trueman unexpectedly, and found her
sitting in the garden playing to her children, who danced on the green
sod. She approached to receive them, and laid aside her guitar; but,
after some conversation, Mrs. Mason desired her to take it up again, and
the girls joined in the request. While she was singing Mary whispered
Mrs. Mason, that she would give the world to be able to sing as well.
The whisper was not so low but a part of it reached Mrs. Trueman’s ears,
who said to her, smiling, my young friend, you value accomplishments much
too highly—they may give grace to virtue—but are nothing without solid
worth.—Indeed, I may say more, for any thing like perfection in the arts
cannot be attained, where a relish; nay, a delight in what is true and
noble is wanting. A superficial observer may be pleased with a picture
in which fine colours predominate; and quick movements in music may
tickle the ear, though they never reach the heart: but it is the simple
strain which affection animates, that we listen to with interest and
delight. Mr. Trueman has a taste for the fine arts; and I wish in every
thing to be his companion. His conversation has improved my judgment,
and the affection an intimate knowledge of his virtues has inspired,
increases the love which I feel for the whole human race. He lives
retired from the world; to amuse him after the business of the day is
over, and my babes asleep, I sing to him. A desire to please, and the
pleasure I read in his eyes, give to my music energy and tenderness.
When he is ruffled by worldly cares, I try to smooth his wrinkled brow,
and think mine a voice of melody, when it has had that effect.
Very true, replied Mrs. Mason, accomplishments should be cultivated to
render us pleasing to our domestic friends; virtue is necessary; it must
ever be the foundation of our peace and usefulness; but when we are
capable of affection, we wish to have something peculiar to ourselves.
We study the taste of our friends, and endeavour to conform to it; but,
in doing so, we ought rather to improve our own abilities than servilely
to copy theirs. Observe, my dear girls, Mrs. Trueman’s distinction, her
accomplishments are for her friends, her virtues for the world in
general.
I should think myself vain, and my soul little, answered Mrs. Trueman, if
the applause of the whole world, on the score of abilities, which did not
add any real lustre to my character, could afford me matter of
exultation. The approbation of my own heart, the humble hope of pleasing
the Most High, elevates my soul; and I feel, that in a future state, I
may enjoy an unspeakable degree of happiness, though I now only
experience a faint foretaste. Next to these sublime emotions, which I
cannot describe, and the joy resulting from doing good; I am happy when I
can amuse those I love; it is not then vanity, but tenderness, that spurs
me on, and my songs, my drawings, my every action, has something of my
heart in it. When I can add to the innocent enjoyments of my children,
and improve them at the same time, are not my accomplishments of use? In
the same style, when I vary the pleasures of my fire-side, I make my
husband forget that it is a lonely one; and he returns to look for
elegance at home, elegance that he himself gave the polish to; and which
is only affected, when it does not flow from virtuous affections.
I beg your pardon, I expatiate too long on my favourite topic; my desire
to rectify your notions must plead my excuse.
Mr. Trueman now joined them, and brought with him some of his finest
fruit. After tea Mrs. Trueman shewed them some of her drawings; and, to
comply with their repeated request, played on the harpsichord, and Mr.
Trueman took his violin to accompany her. Then the children were
indulged with a dance, each had her favourite tune played in turn.
As they returned home, the girls were eagerly lavishing praises on Mrs.
Trueman; and Mary said, I cannot tell why, but I feel so glad when she
takes notice of me. I never saw any one look so good-natured, cried
Caroline. Mrs. Mason joined in the conversation. You justly remarked
that she is good-natured; you remember her history, she loves truth, and
she is ever exercising benevolence and love—from the insect, that she
avoids treading on, her affection may be traced to that Being who lives
for ever.—And it is from her goodness her agreeable qualities spring.