CHAP. XIII.
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 inferior 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 inferior 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.