We staid out till sunset, enjoying the balmy air and amusing ourselves capping verses. This we are all very fond of, and all strove hard for victory; but I must confess that Mary was most frequently the conqueror.
14th.—It has surprised every body how much knowledge these Miss Lumleys have acquired; and yesterday, when we were out walking, my aunt expressed this surprise to Mrs. Lumley.
“Next to the great principles of religion and morality,” she replied, “we endeavoured from their infancy to give them habits of exactness, which we have always found lead not only to regularity and economy of time, but become great preservatives of truth. On such a foundation it was not difficult to engraft the love of knowledge; and literature was always made an indulgence, not a task. After affectionately helping me in our many coarse and laborious works, they first sympathised in the pleasure they perceived I felt, when I had time to read a few pages of some interesting history or poem; and, from sympathy, they soon began to taste the pleasure themselves.”
They continued the conversation till dinnertime, and both seemed equally pleased at finding how exactly they agreed in their sentiments on education. In the evening, after some music, my aunt, who had been particularly gratified with the piety that appeared in every thing that had dropped from Mrs. Lumley, but who knew that very good people sometimes differed in opinion on trifling matters, said to her, “I should be inclined to play some lively tunes, and set our young people to dance; but I am not sure whether you approve of dancing, and in such a slight thing I would not offend opinions that I am sure deserve respect.”
“Indeed,” she replied, “I feel, just as you do, great pleasure in seeing young people cheerful, and enjoying amusements suited to their age; nor can I find in any part of that Book which should be our guide, one word to indicate the impropriety of social amusement—if moderately indulged in, and not made the business of life. Moderation, in all things, I do indeed enjoin. My daughters, I fear, can ill take a part in a dance with yours—but I shall be delighted to see my good, homely girls amused. I must add,” continued she, “that I should be sorry you mistook my opinions; misfortune has made me think seriously, but not harshly. It has given me deeper views of religion than I had in the careless hours of prosperity, but at the same time it has convinced me how much more there is of affected singularity than of real religion, in prohibiting a moderate degree of amusement. It is very probable that I might have become enthusiastic or melancholy, had it not been for the friendship of Mr. Benson, that good clergyman who lives near us. It is not too much to say, that in his conduct, as well as in his sentiments, he shews the happiest union of Christian piety with all the social virtues; and that his profound learning on the most important of all subjects, is embellished by the graces and knowledge of this world.”
My aunt then sat down to the piano-forte, and summoned us all to dance. Mr. L. and my uncle were so good as to join our party, and we danced very merrily for about an hour; and so ends our last night with these very engaging Lumleys.
MRS. LUMLEY’S HYMN.
Teach me, O God! to Thee my voice to raise
In meek submission, and in humble praise;
In all events, thy gracious will to see,
In all misfortunes, to behold but Thee.
To feel, in want and anguish, all thy love,
The tender father’s discipline to own;
To know that sorrow comes, my heart to prove,
To feel the warning of thy awful frown.
O! make me grateful, that I’m timely tried,
And forced from earthly cares to love Thee, Lord!
That, by thy chastisement, thus purified,
I live in Thee, and in Thy holy word.