THE GOOD WIFE.
The good wife is one, who, ever mindful of the solemn contract which she has entered into, is strictly and conscientiously virtuous, constant, and faithful to her husband; chaste, pure, and unblemished in every thought, word, and deed; she is humble and modest, from reason and conviction; submissive from choice, and obedient from inclination; what she acquires by love and tenderness, she preserves by prudence and discretion; she makes it her business to serve, and her pleasure to oblige her husband; as conscious that every thing which promotes his happiness, must in the end contribute to her own: her tenderness relieves his cares, her affection softens his distress, her good humour and complacency lessen and subdue his affliction; she openeth her mouth, as Solomon says, “with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness; she looketh well to the ways of her husband, and eateth not the bread of idleness: her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.” Lastly, as a good and pious Christian, she looks up with an eye of gratitude to the great dispenser and disposer of all things, to the husband of the widow, and father of the fatherless, intreating his divine favour and assistance in this and every other moral and religious duty; well satisfied, that if she duly and punctually discharges her several offices and relations in this life, she shall be blessed and rewarded for it in another.
ANECDOTE OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
After Sir Philip Sidney was wounded near the walls of Zetphen, the horse he rode upon being rather furiously choleric than bravely proud, forced him to forsake the field, but not his back, as the noblest and fittest bier to carry a martial commander to his grave. In this sad progress, passing along by the rest of the army, where his uncle, Robert, earl of Leicester, the general, was, and being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink, which was presently brought him. But, as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had been wounded at the same time, ghastly casting up his eyes at the bottle: sir Philip perceiving this, took it from his head, before drinking, and delivered it to the poor man, with these words: “Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.”
This generous behaviour of the gallant knight ought not to pass without a penegyric. All his deeds of bravery, his politeness, his learning, his courtly accomplishments, do not reflect so much honour upon him, as this one disinterested and truly heroic action. It discovered so tender and benevolent a nature: a mind so fortified against pain; a heart so overflowing with generous sentiments to relieve, in opposition to the violent call of his own necessities, a poor man languishing in the same distress, before himself, that none can read it without the highest admiration. Bravery is often constitutional: fame may be the motive to seats of arms; a statesman and a courtier may act from interest; but a sacrifice so generous as this, can be made by none but those who are good as well as great; who are noble minded, and gloriously compassionate, like Sidney.
SELF-LOVE.
Nothing is so capable of diminishing self-love as the observation, that we disapprove at one time what we approve at another.