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<p>&quot;Who can find&nbsp;<strong>a virtuous woman</strong>? for her price  is far above rubies.&quot; Proverbs 31:10<br><br>
  If anyone desires a book which  shall combine grandeur of subject—with beauty of expression; the most sublime  theology—with the soundest morality; the widest variety of topic—with an  obvious unity of design; the most ancient history with—poetry; the profoundest  philosophy—with the plainest maxims of human conduct; touching narratives—with  picturesque descriptions of character—in short, a book which shall as truly  gratify the taste by the elegance of its composition, as it shall sanctify the  heart by the purity of its doctrines; and thus, while it opens the glories of  heaven and prepares the soul for possessing and enjoying them, shall furnish a  source of never failing pleasure upon earth; I say if such a book be sought, it  can be found in the Bible, and only in the Bible, and that precious volume more  than answers the description.<br><br>
  And where in all the range of  inspired or uninspired literature can be found a delineation of female  excellence—I will not say equal to, but worthy to be compared with—that which  forms the subject of the present chapter? We have in it a picture of which it  is difficult to say which is the most striking—the correctness of the  drawing—or the richness of the colouring. Both display a master's hand, and  though delineated three thousand years ago, it is still true to nature; and  when we have removed some of the effects of time, retouched some lines that  have been clouded and obscured by the lapse of years, and given a few  explanations, it is impossible to look at it without admiration and delight. It  adds to the interest to know that it is the production of a female artist. It  is the description of a good wife, drawn by the hand of a mother, to guide her  son in the selection of a companion for life. They are &quot;the words of king  Lemuel, the prophecy that his mother taught him.&quot; Who this king was is a  matter of uncertainty. He was not, as some have supposed, Solomon.  The original Hebrew has many Chaldaisms, which are found in no other part of  the book of Proverbs, and afford a cogent argument that it was written by  another hand, and perhaps after the captivity. The whole passage is composed  with art, being a kind of poem containing twenty-two verses respectively  beginning, like some of the Psalms, with the letters of the Hebrew alphabet in  their order of succession. Whoever Lemuel might have been, he had the privilege  of a most eminent mother.<br><br>
  &quot;The admonitory verses with  which the chapter commences, composed by this distinguished woman for her son  when in the flower of youth and high expectation, are an inimitable production,  as well in respect to their actual materials, as the delicacy with which they  are selected. Instead of attempting to lay down rules concerning matters of  state and political government, the illustrious writer confines herself, with  the finest and most becoming art, to a recommendation of the gentler virtues of  temperance, benevolence, and mercy; and to a minute and unparalleled  delineation of the female character which might bid fairest to promote the  happiness of her son in wedded life.&quot;<br><br>
  What a pattern of maternal  excellence was this mother of the king! We may well imagine that in this  inimitable portrait, she drew her own likeness. What sons we would see, if all  were blessed with such mothers as she was!<br><br>
  <strong>1.&nbsp;</strong>In taking up this delineation, I shall first  consider&nbsp;<strong>the INQUIRY which introduces it.</strong>&nbsp;&quot;Who can find a virtuous woman? for  her price is far above rubies.&quot; This interrogation implies the&nbsp;<strong>rarity</strong>&nbsp;and the&nbsp;<strong>worth</strong>&nbsp;of the object sought. The question  might have been more forcible in those times than in ours, for such a blessing  was no doubt more scarce than it is now. True it is, the picture is so  admirable, that even now a perfect resemblance is not to be found everywhere.  Yet, if such extraordinary excellence is not often met with, happily that which  is far above mediocrity is by no means rare.&nbsp;<strong>And  why should there not be in every female bosom an intense desire to rise to a  perfect conformity to this beautiful pattern?</strong>&nbsp;How much more to be valued by her  happy possessor is this—than all the jewels with which so many women are fond  of being decked—or than the largest and the purest diamond in the mines of the  east!<br><br>
  I proceed now to consider this  exquisite delineation of &quot;the virtuous woman.&quot; But really I feel as  if to touch it were to spoil it, and as though comments were almost  like—painting the tulip—perfuming the rose—or attempting to add brilliancy to  the sun. Instead of following the order of the verses, and adopting the regular  expository method—I shall arrange the verses and place them under separate&nbsp;<strong>topical</strong>&nbsp;heads and titles.<br><br>
  <strong>2.&nbsp;</strong>The authoress reserves&nbsp;<strong>piety</strong>&nbsp;for the climax or culminating point of her  description, and winds up the whole thus, &quot;Charm is deceptive, and beauty  is fleeting—but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.&quot; Proverbs  31:30.<br><br>
  I shall make this our starting  point. It is set forth in the verse just quoted, and there the essence of true  religion is comprised in that phrase, &quot;The fear of the Lord&quot;—which  means the cultivation and exercise of all right and holy dispositions towards  God. Yes, this is religion, to have the heart right towards God. And we hold  that this is not merely the gilded ornament that towers upwards to heaven, and  crowns and beautifies the building at the apex, though it is this; but it is  more than this, for it is the base of the whole structure, and supports the  noble pyramid of varied excellences. It is this which makes them strong and  stable, and ensures at once their proportions and their perpetuity.<br><br>
  True piety, instead of setting  aside a single female excellence—clothes all female virtues with a Divine  sanction—harmonizes the demands of God with the claims of man—converts the  ordinary duties of domestic life into a means of preparation for that glorious  world where the social ties no longer exist—and softens the cares, anxieties,  and sorrows, with which woman's lot in this world is but too often sadly  oppressed. Whatever else a woman may be—without true piety, she is lamentably  deficient. &quot;Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting.&quot; The face of  a beautiful woman ought to be an index of the mind; and when all is beautiful  on the outside—all should be glorious within. Never does outer beauty and  elegance appear more revolting—than when seen united with an ill-furnished mind  and an ill-favoured heart. And yet how often do elegance of manners, and  loveliness of person, conceal dispositions which are in total opposition to  them, and bitterly disappoint the man who has been captivated by them—and who  in his choice of a wife, has been led by no other considerations than mere  external beauty and personal charms!<br><br>
  &quot;Let&nbsp;<strong>beauty</strong>&nbsp;have its due praise, and suppose what  you will of it; suppose all that the poets say of it be true—still the text  tells you it is vain, it is in its nature transient, fleeting, perishing—it is  the flower of the spring which must fade in autumn; and when the blossom falls,  if no fruit is produced, of what value, I ask, is the tree?&nbsp;<strong>The grave is already opening for  the most elegant person that moves, and the worms are waiting to feed on the  most beautiful face!</strong>&quot;<br><br>
  But true religion has an  excellence and a beauty which time cannot corrode, nor old-age wrinkle, nor  disease spoil, nor death destroy; but which after living and thriving amid the  decay of all other things in this world, will flourish in the next in the vigour  of immortal youth.<br><br>
  <strong>3.&nbsp;</strong>We next note her&nbsp;<strong>marital excellence</strong>. &quot;Her husband has full confidence in  her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of  her life. Proverbs 31:11-12.<br><br>
  <strong>Confidence</strong>&nbsp;between man and wife is the basis of  domestic happiness. There cannot possibly be happiness where this is lacking.  Suspicion and jealousy must drive felicity out of doors. In regard to the  &quot;virtuous woman,&quot; her husband trusts her chastity. Her faithfulness  is as inviolable as the covenant of the Most High, and her purity unsullied as  the light of heaven. What a torment is jealousy in the bosom of husband or  wife! wormwood and gall are sweet compared to it.<br><br>
  He trusts her fidelity in the  management of his temporal affairs, and knows that all his domestic interests  are safe in her hands. With such a manager at home, he can go without anxiety  to his daily business, travel to distant places, or remain, when necessary,  away from home for ever so long a time. He shall have &quot;lacks nothing of  value&quot;—he shall have no need of worrying about an extravagant wife—and her  wasting their property. &quot;He need not,&quot; says Matthew Henry,  &quot;be griping and scraping abroad, as those must be, whose wives are  extravagant and wasteful at home.&quot; She manages his affairs so that he has  plenty. He thinks himself so happy in her that he envies not those who have  most of the wealth of this world—he needs it not, he has enough in having such  a wife. Happy the couple that have such satisfaction as this in each other! It  is too well known to be denied, that if many husbands make their wives wretched  by their unkindness—many wives make their husbands poor by extravagance! Many a  man has been tempted to cheat his creditors through the bad management and  extravagance of his wife.<br><br>
  The &quot;virtuous Woman&quot;  will study to do her husband good, and to avoid doing him harm, all the days of  her life. She will be inventive, ingenious, and laborious to promote his  comfort, his health, and his interest; will smooth by her sweet words his brow,  when wrinkled with care; hush the sigh that misfortune extorts from his bosom;  will answer with gentleness the sharp words that in moments of irritation drop  from his lips, and will do all this, not by fits and starts when in congenial  moods, but continually.<br><br>
  But this is not all; for on  looking onward in the chapter we find another reference to her conduct and  influence as a wife. &quot;Her husband is known in the gates, when he sits  among the elders of the land.&quot; By the gates are meant the place of  magisterial assembly and business, which in ancient times was in rooms over the  gates of the city. In these public convocations a good wife will make her  husband known, and add to his public reputation in various ways. Her prudent  conduct in her domestic arrangements will enable him to leave home with  confidence to attend to public business. She does not engross his company so as  to prevent his becoming a public benefactor and blessing. By the happiness  which she imparts to him at their own fireside she sends him abroad, not with a  downcast look, as if he had left a heavy trouble at home, or carried it  everywhere with him; but with a cheerful countenance, as though he had just  come from the scene and seat of his chief earthly bliss. By her proper care of his  personal appearance, in the elegance and neatness of his apparel, (which in  ancient times was the work of her hands)—and especially by the force of her  holy example sustaining and encouraging his excellence, she raises the honour  and increases the respect of her husband. He is better known and more esteemed  as the husband of such a wife. Can a woman rise to higher honour than to be so  excellent and estimable as to augment the public respectability of her husband?<br><br>
  Still, let husbands take care  that they do not shine only in borrowed splendour, and stand indebted for all  their esteem to their wives. Let them so act, and be such men, that the honour  they receive on account of their wives shall be only an addition to the greater  honour that belongs to themselves. It is to the comfort and glory of a man to  be better known and more respected on account of his wife; but it is to his  discredit to be known and respected only by and for his wife. It is a poor base  affair, for a man to go through society with no higher qualification than his  wife's excellence. Such a woman must feel herself, though in one sense exalted,  in another degraded, by being the wife of a man who has no public honour, but  such as he derives from her. It must bring misery when the husband finds  himself always totally eclipsed by his wife—except indeed he be too dull to  feel it. Alas for the wife of such a man! Let this induce care and caution in  the formation of the marriage union. Unequal matches are not often happy ones.<br><br>
  <strong>4.</strong>&nbsp;Observe now her&nbsp;<strong>industry</strong>&nbsp;as a woman. &quot;She seeks wool and flax,  and works willingly with her hands. She lays her hands to the spindle, and her  hands hold the distaff.&quot; This is an allusion to the customs of the times,  and is a description of her personal habits of manual labour and energetic  employment. All textures of wool and flax, cotton and silk, were, before the  invention of machinery, woven out of thread and yarn, spun by hand with a  distaff and spindle. Nor was this occupation confined exclusively to the labouring  classes—for queens, princesses, and peeresses disdained not to be thus  employed, amid the more courtly occupations of their rank. It is well worthy of  attention, that&nbsp;<em>out of the  twenty-two verses of this elegant poem, eleven are taken up in setting forth  the virtue and practice of the matron's industry,&nbsp;</em>in its various relations and  duties. And her industry is represented as eminently practical and utilitarian.<br><br>
  <strong>Indolence</strong>&nbsp;is sometimes thought and said to be one of  the failings to which women are exposed; especially when single, and more  frequently in wealthy circles. It is censurable even there; how much more in  the state of matrimony! And those who give themselves up to indolence as young  ladies are in imminent peril of carrying the habit forward into the state of  the wife, the mother, and the home manager. An indolent woman at the head of  the domestic circle must throw all into confusion. The manager of an  establishment, especially if she be also a wife and a mother, can never plead  lack of work, as an excuse for personal laziness. What a sad example does such  a woman set to her children! No vice is more contagious than this—nor is any  example more likely to be imitated by those around.<br><br>
  <strong>5.</strong>&nbsp;We next notice her&nbsp;<strong>thriftiness</strong>&nbsp;as a wife and female head of a family.  &quot;She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hand she plants  a vineyard.&quot; &quot;She makes fine linen, and sells it; and delivers sashes  unto the merchant.&quot; &quot;She perceives that her merchandise is good—her  candle goes not out by night.&quot;* From these verses it is apparent that in  early times women were extensively employed even in buying and selling such  matters as suited their sex; and without withdrawing their attention from other  duties, aided their husbands to increase the wealth and comforts of their  families. This manufacturing in the house, this traffic with the merchants,  this buying a piece of ground and planting a vineyard, sound hardly feminine in  our ears; but they give us an insight into those times, and show how little the  tyranny of man over woman, which afterwards, as time rolled on, prevailed in  eastern countries, had yet been practiced.<br><br>
  It may be doubted whether in the  state of society to which this description belongs there were any household  items, but such as were thus produced in families, and the demand having no  other source of supply stimulated domestic production to an extent of which we  can hardly have any adequate conception. Many families would produce much more  than they could consume, and as there was always a demand and a profitable  remuneration for such products, a thrifty housewife would be industrious  herself, and keep all her servants at work, especially at those articles, such  as the fine linen and sashes, which were most in demand. The travelling  merchants called at the homes of the people, bought up their articles, and then  re-sold them.<br><br>
  Woman is here seen as man's  companion, counsellor and helper, even to the making provision for the support  of the family. Modern customs render this to a considerable extent unnecessary.  Woman's place ordinarily is the home and the nursery rather than the shop.  Buying and selling are the business of the husband, and taking care of the  family that of the wife; and the less, as a general rule, the wife has to do  with the shop, the better. It is an indelible reproach to any man to live in  idleness upon the labours of his wife, and leave her to take care of their  children also. A month's labour at the wearisome mill, or a month's penance  upon bread and water, would be a suitable regimen for such drones.<br><br>
  Yet 'necessity' dispenses with  ordinary laws; and where there are no children to be provided for, or where  their comfort and education can be attended to also, it is by no means an  unseemly spectacle to witness a clever and devoted woman occasionally at the  side of her husband in the scenes of his trade. This applies, of course only to  'necessity'. No wife will feel herself degraded by such occupations. The  grateful and affectionate smile of her husband, and the consciousness that she  is lightening his cares and aiding him to support his family, will be an ample  reward for her labour.<br><br>
  It is, however, a great  unhappiness for the labouring classes of this and other manufacturing towns,  that married women, who are not only wives but mothers—are so extensively  employed in our factories. In some cases it may be necessary, and even  beneficial; but as a general practice it is fraught with much discomfort to the  family. And in order to render it unnecessary, let the husband be more  industrious, more sober, more temperate in all things—and forego the earnings  of his wife at the factory, that she may be looking after her children, and  providing him with a clean, comfortable, and well-ordered home. This would take  away from him one temptation to frequent the ale-house.<br><br>
  <strong>6.</strong>&nbsp;We notice next her<strong>&nbsp;</strong><strong>judgment and skill in her domestic  arrangements</strong>. &quot;She  rises also while it is yet night, and gives food to her household, and a  portion to her maidens.&quot; &quot;She looks well to the ways of her  household, and eats not the bread of idleness.&quot; &quot;Her candle goes not  out by night.&quot; &quot;She is like the merchant's ship, she brings her food  from afar.&quot; &quot;She is not afraid of the snow for her household; for all  her household are clothed with scarlet;&quot; or, as it should be rendered,  &quot;in double garments.&quot;<br><br>
  How many points there are here  worthy of notice and imitation. She knows the value of time and redeems it—and  makes the day as long as she can by early rising. Nothing wastes time more than  unnecessary slumber. Sleep is 'a temporary death', and no more of it should be  taken than prepares for a healthy resurrection in the morning. Even the rising  of our Lord from the grave took place very early in the morning, as if among  the minor lessons he would teach us by the very circumstances of that wondrous  and glorious event, one is that our own morning figure of the resurrection in  rising from our bed should take place early. A slothful woman, who wastes the  precious prime hours of in bed—is a sad example to her family. How can she  teach the valuable habit of early rising to her children; or how can she  &quot;look well to the ways of her household, and give food to her  maidens,&quot; by setting in order her household affairs—if she does not leave  her downy pillow until the day is far spent.<br><br>
  And then it is said of the good  wife, &quot;Her candle does not go out by night.&quot; When the days are short  and the nights long, she takes no advantage of this for the indulgence of  sloth. Though early up to lengthen the day at that end, she is not in haste to  retire to rest, and so shorten it at the other end. Each hour has its work, and  the work of the hour is done in the hour. The ways of her household are the  constant matter of oversight and inspection, and such is the fruit of her good  management, that when winter comes, her children need not fear frost or snow,  for they are protected from the cold with both inside and outside garments. How  beautiful a scene is it on a bleak cheerless day, when the north wind is  piercing, and the sleet is driving before it—to see a large family, through the  activity of an industrious and kind mother and manager, all warmly clad.<br><br>
  In a complete sense &quot;looking  well to the ways of her household,&quot; must include not only good  housewifery, but a proper attention to their moral habits, their religious  instruction, their attendance on the means of grace, giving them time for secret  prayer, and reading God's Word, the daily ordinance of family worship, anxious  watchfulness over their manners, habits, and connections. Who can have the  claim to the title of a virtuous woman who does not feel this weight of family  responsibility? And what a responsibility! Let every wife read it, tremble and  pray. I most urgently enjoin all the acquirements of good and clever  housewifery—of&nbsp;<strong>frugality  without stinginess—plenty without profusion—attention without slavery—order  without fastidiousness—efficiency without hurry—and elegance without  extravagance.</strong><br><br>
  &quot;This bear in mind,&quot;  said an accomplished writer, in giving his advice to his son, when he is  directing him as to the choice of a wife, &quot;that if she is not frugal, if  she is not what is called a good home manager, if she does not pride herself on  her knowledge of family affairs, and laying out her money to the best  advantage; let her be ever so sweetly tempered, gracefully made, or elegantly  accomplished—she is no wife for a tradesman; and all these amiable talents will  but open just so many ways to ruin. In short, remember your mother, who was so  exquisitely versed in this art, that her dress, her table, and every other  particular, appeared rather splendid than otherwise; and yet good housewifery  was the foundation of all; and her bills, to my certain knowledge, were a  fourth less than most of her neighbours, who had hardly cleanliness to boast,  in return for their awkward liberality.&quot; This is all true, and all good as  far as it goes. But then it is not enough, for to this must be added moral and  religious oversight and care.<br><br>
  <strong>7.&nbsp;</strong>I may now introduce&nbsp;<strong>her conduct as a MOTHER</strong>. &quot;Her children arise up and call her  blessed.&quot; Happy the children of such a mother, who receive the lessons of  wisdom taught by her lips, as well as by the example of piety, prudence, and  sobriety—which she sets them in her conduct. With their character formed under  the resilient influence of her own, and the consciousness how much they owe to  her influence, they rise up around her with feelings of gratitude and  veneration; when surrounded with families of their own, they teach her  grandchildren to reverence her; and when she has descended to the tomb, they  pour those blessings over her grave which they had during her life been  accustomed to offer round her chair, or in their evening prayer for her  welfare.<br><br>
  Let it be the holy and honourable  ambition of every mother to be crowned with the blessings of her children. Let  every mother seriously ponder what she would really wish her daughters to be;  what by general consent they would be praised for being—and that let her be  herself!&nbsp;<strong>The mother should be  as perfect a model as possible, for her daughters to imitate.</strong><br><br>
  In the last chapter I gave  directions to young mothers in reference to the early training of their  children; let me now give a few hints to those whose children are rising up  around them, or have become young men and women. I say then, be much at home  yourselves, and that is the way, if your disposition, spirit, and conduct be  loving and agreeable—to keep them at home. Make them fond of your society—by  causing them to feel that you are fond of theirs. Throw an air of cheerfulness  over the circle. A mother's smile is the sunshine of the domestic group, in  which all delight to bask. Be happy yourselves, and you will then make your  children happy around you. And yet let it not be a cheerfulness that  degenerates into levity. Nothing can be more unseemly than a frivolous mother,  indulging in undignified mirth—or frothy, gossiping, or slanderous discourse—in  the midst of grown-up sons and daughters. To be called a  &quot;rattle-brain&quot; is no commendation of a mother.<br><br>
  Of all subjects on which a  discreet mother will never joke with her children—love and courtship will be  the last. A wise and good woman will avoid all trifling with matters of such  delicacy and importance.&nbsp;<strong>To  her sons she will exhibit in herself the model after which she would wish them  to choose a wife; and to her daughters, the pattern she would wish them to  copy, should they ever become wives and mothers themselves.</strong>&nbsp;There should be a high and dignified  bearing, softened by the tenderest affection; and a kindness and affability  uncorrupted by a base familiarity. Her&nbsp;<strong>authority</strong>&nbsp;should insure the prompt obedience of  her children, whatever be their age; as her&nbsp;<strong>wisdom</strong>&nbsp;should attract their confidence, and  her&nbsp;<strong>love</strong>&nbsp;their gratitude and affection. She  must be thus their companion, counsellor, and comforter—and by the frankness of  her own disposition, encourage their openness with her. They must be so treated  as to be made to feel that they have no momentous secrets they could wish to  conceal from her. And especially should she exhibit to them all the holiness,  meekness, consistency, beauty and attractiveness of true religion—the  sanctifying, humbling, spiritualizing power of genuine godliness in times of  prosperity—and all its Divine support and heavenly consolation in times of  adversity—that they may be won by her example to piety—and thus rise up not  only on earth, and in time—but in heaven, and through all eternity—to call her  blessed!<br><br>
  <strong>8.&nbsp;</strong>She is not destitute of&nbsp;<strong>taste and elegance</strong>. &quot;She makes herself coverings of  tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.&quot; Though not addicted to 'pride  in dress' and 'vanity in decorations', she maintains her rank and station in  society by their external and conventional signs. Her wardrobe and her  furniture are in keeping with her circumstances, her virtues, and her industry.  And it is right that they should be so. Religion, my female friends, is not at  war with elegance and good taste. It is itself the &quot;beauty of  holiness,&quot; and the richest and purest moral taste. Neither despise nor  idolize these matters. Be neither poorly dressed—nor a 'dressed doll'; neither  the slave—nor the despiser of fashion; neither excite disgust by your lack of  attention to little matters of order, suitableness and ornament—nor court  admiration by extravagance, splendour and expensiveness. Be consistent with  your station in all respects. Do not pretend the pride of poverty—any more than  that of magnificence.<br><br>
  As to the elegant occupations for  leisure hours of modern times, I refer to what in former chapters I have said  on the subject of worldly accomplishments.<br><br>
  <strong>9.&nbsp;</strong>Note her&nbsp;<strong>prudence in speech</strong>. &quot;She opens her mouth in  wisdom.&quot; She thinks before she speaks; and therefore neither introduces a  bad subject, nor disgraces a good one by an improper manner of discoursing upon  it. She has too just a sense of the value of the gift of speech, and too  accurate an idea of the power of words for good or for evil, to employ them in  idle gossip, petty scandal, or slanderous backbiting. She is neither too  disinclined to talk—knowing that speech is given to be employed; nor too  talkative—equally knowing that &quot;When words are many, sin is not absent—but  he who holds his tongue is wise.&quot; The apostle James  says—&quot;If any man offends not in word, the same is a perfect man.&quot;  This, perhaps, is still more true of a woman, inasmuch as she is thought to  have a greater propensity to loquacity.<br><br>
  The gift of speech is never more  adorned than when employed in the soft and gentle tones of woman's voice  uttering the words of wisdom and kindness. The gift of speech is never more  dissonant and repulsive than when her tongue is voluble in folly or falsehood,  malice or anger. Have we not all known husbands, a large portion of whose time  has been employed in explaining the mistakes, correcting the follies, healing  the feuds, and repairing the mischief's, of wives who opened their mouths  without wisdom? While on the other hand, has not many an Abigail,  by her discreet and timely interposition and wise speech, averted the storm  that was gathering over the family from the churlish language of Nabal, her  husband?<br><br>
  Blessed is the woman who knows  how to charm to repose the troubled thoughts of an angry or a vexed husband—who  can discern when to be silent and when to speak—and how by the sweet tones of  her voice to lull his agitated mind, and drive the evil spirit out of his  bosom. Ah! it is at home that this wisdom of speech is most needed. What stormy  scenes sometimes arise from the absence of it, driving peace from the family  and filling it with harsh discord and fearful strife!<br><br>
  <strong>10.&nbsp;</strong>Is&nbsp;<strong>kindness and benevolence</strong>&nbsp;no part of the spirit and conduct of the  virtuous woman? Let the text reply. &quot;In her tongue is the law of kindness.  She stretches out her hand to the poor; yes, she reaches forth her hands to the  needy.&quot; Her kindness begins with&nbsp;<strong>thoughts</strong>,  goes on to&nbsp;<strong>words</strong>, and ends  in&nbsp;<strong>works</strong>. In her heart, it  is as a principle of charity; upon her tongue, as a law to dictate gentle, and  soothing, and pleasing words. She speaks, and her expressions are as the  droppings of the honeycomb, or the falling of the dew.<br><br>
  But her mercy is in her hand as  well as in her heart and upon her lips. She does not merely say to the hungry  and shivering, &quot;Be warmed and be filled,&quot; but she gives them with  which to satisfy their hunger and clothe their limbs. And&nbsp;<strong>her kindliness of disposition is  the golden thread which runs through all her life</strong>, and binds up all her  actions, not only into a womanly, but saintly, benevolence. Her spindle and  distaff so industriously employed, are worked not for herself alone, but for  the poor and needy. She is not so taken up with those within the circle of her  family as to forget those that are outside. Her benevolence is like a spring,  which not only refreshes and fertilizes the spot where it gushes up and makes  all verdant round its margin—but flows onward to carry its benefits to those at  a distance.<br><br>
  She adorns herself with  &quot;silk and purple,&quot; and makes &quot;coverings of tapestry&quot; for  her own habitation, and clothes her household; but then also, like Dorcas, she  makes garments for the poor. How beautifully does this feature of&nbsp;<strong>kindness</strong>&nbsp;come into the portrait; how does this  diamond of mercy sparkle amid the other jewels of this charming character! What  a blank would the absence of it have made! How would we have turned away, not  with admiration, but with sadness, from this industry, frugality, marital  affection, good housewifery, maternal excellency, prudence, and elegance—if all  these virtues had been exhibited in the iron setting of selfishness—instead of  the gold of mercy! If this woman, the pattern of all household virtues, had  been presented to us as so swallowed up in her cares for her own well-provided household  as to do nothing for the starving and naked families around her—a dark shadow  would have fallen on her otherwise bright character, and its luminousness would  have passed at once if not into total, yet into partial eclipse. But it is not  so. Mercy, like a midday sun, rises upon the scene, and sheds its luster upon  all. Christian women, you must be the brightest patterns of kindness and mercy  which our selfish world contains—and add to temperance, patience, and  godliness—Christian kindness and charity.<br><br>
  <strong>11.&nbsp;</strong>Such a character cannot be unnoticed or unacknowledged; nor  can such excellence pass through the world without admiration and commendation;  and I now therefore note the&nbsp;<strong>honour and esteem</strong>&nbsp;with which she is treated. &quot;Strength  and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.&quot;  &quot;Her husband also, and he praises her.&quot; &quot;Many daughters have  done virtuously, but you excel them all.&quot; &quot;Favour is deceitful and  beauty is vain; but a woman who fears the Lord—she shall be praised.&quot;  &quot;Give her of the fruits of her hands, and let her own works praise her in  the gates.&quot;<br><br>
  She seeks not human applause, and  therefore acts no theatrical part; nor, for the sake of praise, attempts  ostentatious display. Content with the love and esteem of her husband, the  veneration and affection of her children, and the respect of her friends—she is  not anxious to obtrude herself upon public attention, to shine in brilliant  circles, or to have even her excellence made the subject of general  commendation. Still, unsought praise will be given her. Spontaneous tributes  and free-will offerings of honour and respect will be paid her.<br><br>
  Her husband will be the first to  perceive, and the foremost to acknowledge, her excellence. If a grateful man,  he will make her sensible of his just appreciation of her excellences, not by  mere caresses, but by respect for her judgment and character; by commending her  to her children, and bidding them follow her example. (Cases do sometimes occur  of men so inferior to their wives, and so conscious of that inferiority, as to  be jealous of their wives superior godliness, and envious of the talents and  virtues they cannot imitate.)<br><br>
  A husband blessed with such a  woman as is described in this chapter, should not be backward on suitable  occasions to let others know the estimate he forms of her character. True it is  that a wise man will not be always talking of his wife's excellences; but he  will, at proper seasons, feel a pride and a pleasure in exalting her in public  estimation, and the public will not fail to give her the fruit of her doings.  &quot;Let every one extol her virtue. Let her not lack the just commendation of  her pious labours. But while some are magnified for the nobleness of the stock  from whence they sprang; others for their fortune; others for their beauty;  others for other possessions—let the good deeds which she herself has done, be  publicly praised in the greatest assemblies, where, if all men shall be silent,  her own works will declare her excellent works.&quot;<br><br>
  And to use the poetic language of  Horne, &quot;The crown which her own hands have thus formed shall be placed  upon her head as it were by general consent, even in this life; and her good  deeds celebrated in public assemblies, shall diffuse an odour as pleasant as  the smell of Eden, or as the cloud of frankincense ascending from the holy  altar. When her task is ended, the answer of a good conscience, and the  blessings of all around, sweeter than the sweetest music, shall chant her to  her repose—until awakened on the great morning of the world, descending angels  shall introduce this daughter of Jerusalem into the joy of her Lord.&quot;<br><br>
  Such then is the character of the  virtuous woman, as delineated by the mother of King Lemuel. By expanding the miniature as it  was drawn by the pen of inspiration into a large and full-length picture, I  have perhaps done injustice to the subject. If so, let those who are of this  opinion, perpetually and closely study the original as it is found in the book  of Proverbs. &quot;There,&quot; says Matthew Henry, in his quaint style,  &quot;is shut up this looking glass for ladies, which they are desired to open  and dress themselves by; and if they do so, their adorning will be found to  praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ.&quot;<br><br>
  If, however, a wife devoid of all  that constitutes her real excellence, will run counter to this beautiful  picture—if instead of being the glory of her husband, she will seek to rival  him, and will either attempt to be in the domestic skies the greater light to  rule the day, or to throw into eclipse him before whom she should be content to  be partially obscured—if instead of being content to be praised by him, and  deeming his approving smile her worthiest object of ambition and her richest  reward, she will seek the gaze of admiration and the language of flattery from  strangers—if she is a wife who wantonly opposes his tastes, or neglects his  comfort; who despises his opinion, and contradicts him with rigor, and resents  with improper heat his real or unintentional slights—who exhibits indolence and  not industry in the management of his household—and either by slovenliness  allows all things to sink into uncleanness and confusion—or by extravagance  hastens on the approach of poverty and ruin—who neglects even her children, and  causes them to rise up in grief and shame for their mother—who gives her  maidens constant occasion for reproach and complaint, on account of her  ill-temper and worse conduct—who is restless and uneasy at home, but gracious  and engaging everywhere else—who by her own conduct makes her husband happier  everywhere else than at his own fireside—&quot;or if she be a wife, using her  empire over her husband to turn him away from the Lord, as the wife of Jehoram,  whose fatal influence the Holy Spirit paints in the single expression, 'But  Jehoram followed the example of the kings of Israel and was as wicked as King  Ahab, for he had married one of Ahab's daughters.' A wife, in short, who  constrains her husband to sigh in secret over the hour when he was blind enough  to ask for her hand in marriage—and to look forward to the day when he shall  lay before the tribunal of God the eternal wrongs she has done him—what plea  can she offer for her conduct?&quot; (Monod)<br><br>
  There are some few things of a&nbsp;<strong>GENERAL CHARACTER</strong>&nbsp;which may be worthy of notice in surveying  this portraiture.<br><br>
  It is a very true and judicious  remark of Mr. Bridges, that&nbsp;<strong>the standard of godliness here  exhibited is not that of the religious recluse, shut up from active obligations  under pretense of greater sanctity and consecration to God.</strong>&nbsp;Here are none of those habits of  monastic asceticism that are extolled by some as the highest point of Christian  perfection. Nor does any other part of Scripture, either of the Old Testament  or the New, set up a finger-post pointing to the convent. I repeat what I  affirmed in a former chapter, that no single practice pleading the sanction of  religion, was ever the source of so much pollution and vice, or inflicted so  deep a wound on morals—as monasticism. Woman's natural state is the marital  one, into which she ought to be, and is usually, willing to enter at the call  of Providence,  and with all due discretion—and for which she should assiduously prepare  herself.<br><br>
  Still, should there be some women  of singular unselfishness, or exalted piety, who, either for the benefit of  near relations, or from motives of zeal and mercy, and not from a superstitious  notion of 'the superior sanctity of celibacy', shall be willing to forego the  duties and felicities of the wife and the mother; who, I ask, shall forbid  them? Such was the mind of the apostle Paul,  whose words on this subject have been so eagerly twisted in favour of erroneous  opinions. &quot;If I search,&quot; says Monod, &quot;throughout the whole world  for the type of the most useful, the most pure, the most Christian charity, I  nowhere find all these conditions better fulfilled than in the good aunt, who  by a marvellous sacrifice, accepts the fatigues and the cares of maternity,  without knowing its ineffable consolation. Sad she may be, but her sadness is  heavenly, and transforms itself completely into love and sacrifice. But if no  family engagements bind you, extend your view further; find out a family who  has need of you; comfort the afflicted; form or support charitable  institutions; assist a pious minister in his labours—in short in every good  work for which God appears to have expressly reserved your liberty. Or embrace,  for you may, a yet wider sphere. Embrace the world if you will, provided it be  in the spirit of charity. In fine, accomplish your mission so faithfully, that  when the hour of your death shall arrive, all may rejoice in the happy  isolation which permitted you thus to devote yourself—and that amid the tender  regrets which shall follow your mortal remains to the tomb, it may no longer be  discerned in the sacrifice which you have made, whether you were wife or  sister, aunt or mother, relative or stranger.&quot;<br><br>
  It cannot fail to impress every  reader of this beautiful description of the &quot;virtuous woman,&quot; that&nbsp;<strong>the delineation chiefly regards the  ACTIVE virtues of the female character</strong>. It portrays the clever, energetic,  and prosperous female, surrounded by circumstances that call forth her  industrious assiduities, invest her with power, and array her with public honour;  rather than the quiet, gentle, and retired sufferer, struggling with adversity,  or crushed by oppression, whose virtues consist of submission to the will of  God, and patient uncomplaining endurance of the wrongs of man, perhaps of her  husband—and the brightness of whose character is admired by God and angels in  heaven, rather than seen and extolled by men on earth. To the latter I would  say, look up with believing prayer to God for the grace that is necessary to  fill your dark sphere with the illumination of that holy virtue, which with  lunar radiance shines brightest in the night.<br><br>
  Little of the glory of the  character which I have been describing may fall upon you in the secluded shades  amid which you are called to dwell. In solitude, with no eye to pity, no voice  to soothe, no hand to help—you may be called to drink the cup of sorrow. Well,  drink it, as did the greatest and holiest sufferer who ever passed through our  valley of tears, saying, &quot;The cup which my Father gives me to drink, shall  I not drink it?&quot; The time will come when he who loves you better than you  love yourself, shall wipe away all tears from your eyes.<br><br>
  To those who by divine grace are  copying the pattern set before them in this chapter, and are in circumstances  to do so, I would say, cast the veil of&nbsp;<strong>gentleness,  modesty, and humility</strong>, over all these fine traits of active, energetic  character. Let the passive virtues of your femininity blend with and soften the  active ones. Be sure to single out that lovely feature, &quot;the law of<strong> kindness</strong>&nbsp;is on her  tongue.&quot; With all this courageous energy in womanly conduct, unite  feminine&nbsp;<strong>tenderness</strong>&nbsp;and&nbsp;<strong>softness</strong>.  Whatever else in character you may be, still be a woman, with all a woman's  grace and loveliness. and while as a wife, a mother, and domestic manager, you  wield the authority and exert the influence which belongs to you, remember  still there is one in the family, I mean your husband, whose authority is still  higher than your own, and that it is at once your duty, and will be for your  happiness, meekly and gracefully, though not abjectly and crouchingly—to bow to  him.<br><br>
  Young women, I beseech you to  make yourselves familiar with this exquisite passage of Holy Writ. It must be a  study for you. There is much, very much, to be learned from it. You will here  see that piety is the broadest and most solid basis of all female excellence,  and so far from interfering with temporal duties, will, wherever it is genuine,  quicken attention to them. Godliness is profitable for all things—and assists  every lawful pursuit. There is not a single good quality in the character which  it will not improve—and no one earthly interest, provided it is  legitimate—which godliness will not effectually promote.<br><br>
  Do not allow yourselves to be  imposed upon by the misrepresentations of its enemies, who will persuade you,  if they can, that piety is unfriendly to general character, and inimical to  personal happiness; that it enjoins harsh duties—and forbids pleasures  essential to youthful enjoyment. Upon candid examination it will be found that  this objection to it, like all others, is utterly unfounded. Is there a virtue  or a practice which can adorn or bless humanity which piety does not enjoin?  And as to its most solemn, and what some would consider its most sorrowful  duty—I mean repentance—I would remind you that this is not the only exercise of  true religion; for there is the joy unspeakable of faith, as well as the grief  of contrition; and the latter leads on to the former, just as the shower in the  sultry heat of summer portends and produces a cooler atmosphere. True religion  forbids no pleasure—but only such things as are injurious to the soul. True  religion substitutes the substance of happiness for its shadows. It resembles a  fine country in spring, where the hedges bloom and every thorn produces a  flower.<br><br>
  Perhaps it will be thought by  some a pity that a delineation of the virtuous man, equally minute,  comprehensive, and impressive, was not drawn by the hand which gave us this  picture of female excellence. In diminishing of our regret however, it is  observable how&nbsp;<strong>much of what is  here said may be copied into the character and conduct of the masculine sex</strong>.  There is scarcely a rule of conduct here presented which may not, with a little  change, be observed by the husband, the father, and the master. This virtuous  woman's fidelity to her husband, personal industry, good management and  diligence in her family, consideration for the comfort and necessities of  others, kindness of speech and pity for the poor, courtesy to all, and  especially her sincere and practical piety—belong to her husband also—and are  required of him as well as of herself! These virtues are appropriate to both  sexes. They are the&nbsp;<strong>general  principles of excellence and virtue</strong>—though adapted here to the female sex.  And therefore we recommend husbands to study this portraiture, not only to see  what their wives should be, but what is required of themselves also.<br><br>
  But who of either sex is  sufficient for these things? None but those whose sufficiency is of God; and He  will ever bestow upon docile and humble petitioners at the footstool of his  grace—that gracious aid which is equal to the exigency of every case. While  enforcing your various duties, and calling upon you to form for yourself a  godly character, which, after exhibiting to the admiration of every beholder on  earth its graceful proportions—shall endure with unfading beauty and  undiminished grandeur through eternity—I would also remind you of your own  indecision, feebleness of purpose, exposure to temptation—and consequent  necessity of divine assistance. To obtain this help you must have faith in Christ, the source of all spiritual efficacy, and earnest  prayer to God; and none shall seek this grace in vain.<br><br>
  I close a series of discourses on  which, in consequence of the rarity of the effort and the delicacy of the  subject, I entered, not indeed without some hope—but with much fear and  trembling. So far as the pleasure of my own mind in preparing and preaching  them, and the monthly attendance upon their delivery from the pulpit, were  concerned, my expectations were more than realized. In laying down rules,  pointing out defects, and occasionally in comparing the excellences and the  faults of the sexes, I have had a somewhat difficult task to perform, and I can  scarcely presume to hope that in the performance of it, I have given  satisfaction to all parties. I must be contented (and it is no small matter to  be so,) with the conviction that I have endeavoured to hold the balance with a  steady and impartial hand—and in this I have satisfied my own conscience. I  have praised, where praise was called for, and that was very often—but my  commendation has not degenerated into flattery. And I have blamed, when blame  was just—but it has been without bitterness. My object has been to promote the  happiness of both sexes, by improving the character of the one on which so much  of the happiness of both depends; and to advance the welfare of society by  purifying its earthly source. How far I have succeeded it is impossible that I  should ever know, and in the absence of certainty I must be comforted with  hope.<br><br>
  I have looked upon woman as  related to both worlds, as being bound to this world—by the ties of a wife, a  mother, and a domestic manager; and to that world which is to come—by the  grander and more enduring bond of immortality; and therefore as having to  attain not only to social excellence—but to that which is individual in special  relation to God, heaven, and eternity. I have contemplated you, my young  friends, as the future wives and mothers of the next generation—and have endeavoured  to prepare you for discharging the duties of these momentous relationships. It  has been my aim in these sermons, to open and prepare for you a smooth passage  through this earthly state, gathering out of your way as many stones, and  planting as many flowers as I could. And imperfect as may have been my  counsels, and defective as may have been my views, I am confident that if my  advice be taken and my rules observed, though there may be much sorrow in  reserve for you—there will not be lacking a large share of consolation and  happiness. It will be your fault, not mine, if your life becomes a dreary  blank—a desert without an oasis—a wilderness without a spring.<br><br>
  But I have looked beyond this  world, to that state where you will find yourselves with all those tender ties  fallen from around you, and yourselves standing alone in your individuality and  immortality. I am duly aware, and I wish you to be so, that you sustain a personal  relation to God, which requires an appropriate and prescribed line of conduct  towards him, and for the neglect of which no other duties, excellences, or  merits whatever, can be a substitute. It is not merely what you have been as a  woman in society, or as a wife, a mother, or a manager in your family—but what  you have been towards God, that will decide your lot in the day of judgment.  You may have been the most exalted, noble, and learned of women; the most  faithful of wives; the most devoted and kindest of mothers; but if, with all  this, you have not had repentance towards God, faith in our Lord Jesus, and  true holiness—your domestic virtues, as they had in themselves no relation to  God, and in their performance no reference to God, will, in the end, meet with  no recompense from him—and instead of &quot;Well done, good and faithful  servant,&quot; you will hear nothing more than, &quot;On earth, she had all the  reward she will ever get.&quot;<br><br>
  Young women, contemplate your  situation as I do, and as I now present it to you. There, further than the eye  can reach, stretches out the vast plain of earthly existence, with all its  varied landscape, its numerous roads, its busy population, its duties, its  pleasures, and its dangers; you are travelling across it, and needing guidance,  assistance, protection, and comfort along the way. Step by step you are going  on, never stopping, but ever advancing, to what? To that 'boundless ocean of  eternity' which lies beyond—on which you must soon embark—and on which so many  of your fellow-travellers are every hour adventuring. Yes, yes, you are  emigrants passing through time to embark for eternity! And ought you not, like  other emigrants, to prepare for the voyage, and for the country to which you  are going? Shall your attention be so taken up with the plain across which you  are travelling, as to forget your embankment upon the ocean that lies beyond  it? Does one of all the thousands who are now crowding onto ships to immigrate,  forget that he is soon to leave his country for one beyond the sea? Oh, no! And  will you forget that you must soon, and how soon you know not, perhaps next  year, or next month, immigrate to eternity? By what motive shall I induce you  to prepare for eternity! By what? Only by itself. For if Eternity be not enough  to induce you to prepare for Eternity, by what other motive can I hope to  succeed?<br><br>
  I now, in conclusion, refer you  to that day and that scene, when the result of all ministerial efforts for the  spiritual welfare of mankind, and of this among the rest, shall be ascertained  and made public. Before that dread tribunal, you and I must appear. Not one  single person of all who heard, or who shall read these discourses, will then  be absent; and among the things to be brought into judgment will be this  feeble, yet sincere and earnest, endeavour for your spiritual benefit. In  reference to some of you it will, I fear, be found that I have been &quot;the savour  of death unto death;&quot; but it is my prayer and my expectation, that to very  many I may be &quot;the savour of life unto life.&quot; &quot;For what is our  hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes?  Is it not you? Indeed, you are our glory and joy!&quot; 1 Thes. 2:19-20</p>

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