Behave thyself modestly with thy wife before company, remembering the severity of Cato, who removed Manlius from the Senate, for that he was seen to kiss his wife in presence of his daughter: old men are seldom merry before children, lest their laughter might breed in them looseness, husbands should scarce jest before their wives, lest want of modesty on their parts be cause of wantonness on their wives' part. Imitate the Kings of Persia, who when they were given to riot, kept no company with their wives, but when they used good order, had their Queens ever at their [the] table. Give no example of lightness, for look what thou practicest most, that will thy wife follow most, though it becometh her least. And yet would I not have thy wife so curious to please thee, that fearing lest her husband should think she painted her face, she should not therefore wash it, only let her refrain from such things as she knoweth cannot well like thee. He that cometh before an Elephant will not wear bright colors, nor he that cometh to a Bull, red, nor he that standeth by a Tiger, play on a Taber: for that by the sight or noise of these things, they are commonly much incensed. In the like manner, there is no wife if she be honest, that will practice those things, that to her mate shall seem displeasant, or move him to choler. Be thrifty and wary in thy expenses, for in old time, they were as soon condemned by law that spent their wives' dowry prodigally, as they that divorced them wrongfully. Fly that vice which is peculiar to all those of thy country, Ieloufie [jealousy]: for if thou suspect without cause, it is the next way to have cause; women are to be ruled by their own wits, for be they chaste, no gold can win them, if immodest no grief can amend them, so that all mistrust is either needless or bootless. Be not too imperious over her, that will make her to hate thee, nor too submissive [demisse], that will cause her to disdain thee; let her neither be thy slave, nor thy sovereign, for if she lie under thy foot she will never love thee, if climb above thy head never care for thee: the one will breed thy shame to love her too little, the other thy grief to suffer too much. In governing thy household, use thine own eye, and her hand, for housewifery consisteth as much in seeing things as settling things, and yet in that go not above thy latchet, for Cooks are not to be taught in the Kitchen, nor Painters in their shops, nor Housewives in their houses. Let all the keys hang at her girdle, but the purse at thine, so shalt thou know what thou dost spend, and how she can spare. Break nothing of thy stock, for as the Stone Thyrrenus [Thirrennius] being whole, swimmeth, but never so little diminished, sinketh to the bottom: so a man having his stock full, is ever afloat, but wasting of his store, becometh bankrupt. Entertain such men as shall be trusty, for if thou keep a Wolf within thy doors to do mischief, or a Fox to work craft and subtilty, thou shalt find it as perilous, as if in thy barns thou shouldst maintain Mice, or in thy grounds Moles. Let thy Maidens be such as shall seem readier to take pains than follow pleasure, willinger to dress up their house, than their heads, not so fine fingered, to call for a Lute, when they should use the distaff, nor so dainty mouthed, that their silken throats should swallow no pack thread. For thy diet be not sumptuous, nor yet simple: For thy attire not costly, nor yet clownish, but cutting thy coat by thy cloth, go no farther than shall become thy estate, lest thou be thought proud, and so envied, nor debase not thy birth, lest thou be deemed poor, and so pitied. Now thou art come to that honorable estate, forget all thy former follies, and debate with thyself, that heretofore thou didst but go about the world, and that now, thou art come into it, that Love did once make thee to follow riot, that it must now enforce thee to pursue thrift, that then there was no pleasure to be compared to the courting of Ladies, that now there can be no delight greater than to have a wife. Commend me humbly to that noble man, Surius, and to his good Lady Camilla. Let my duty to the Lady Flavia be remembered, and to thy Violet, let nothing that may be added, be forgotten. Thou wouldst have me come again into England; I would but I cannot: But if thou desire to see Euphues, when thou art willing to visit thine uncle, I will meet thee; in the mean season, know, that it is as far from Athens to England, as from England to Athens. Thou sayest I am much wished for, that many fair promises are made to me: Truly Philautus, I know that a friend in the court is better than a penny in the purse, but yet I have heard that such a friend cannot be gotten in the court without pence. Fair words fat few, great promises without performance, delight for the time, but yearke ever after. I cannot but thank Surius, who wisheth me well, and all those that at my being in England liked me well. And so with my hearty commendations until I hear from thee, I bid thee farewell. Thine to use, if marriage This letter dispatched, Euphues gave himself to solitariness, determining to sojourn in some uncouth place, until time might turn white salt into fine sugar; for surely he was both tormented in body and grieved in mind. And so I leave him, neither in Athens nor elsewhere that I know: But this order he left with his friends, that if any news Acame or letters, that they should direct them to the Mount of Silixfedra, where I leave him, either to his musings or Muses. Gentlemen, Euphues is musing in the bottom of the Mountain Silixfedra Philautus [is] married in the Isle of England: two friends parted, the one living in the delights of his new wife, the other in contemplation of his old griefs. What Philautus doeth, they can imagine that are newly married; how Euphues liveth, they may guess that are cruelly martyred: I commit them both to stand to their own bargains, for if I should meddle any farther with the marriage of Philautus, it might haply make him jealous, if with the melancholy of Euphues, it might cause him to be coleric: so the one would take occasion to rub his head, fit his hat never so close, and the other offense, to gall his heart, be his case never so quiet. I, Gentlewomen, am indifferent, for it may be, that Philautus would not have his life known which he leadeth in marriage, nor Euphues, his love decried, which he beginneth in solitariness, lest either the one being too kind, might be thought to dote, or the other too constant, might be judged to be mad. But were the truth known, I am sure, Gentlewomen, it would be a hard question among Ladies, whether Philautus were a better wooer, or a husband, whether Euphues were a better lover, or a scholar. But let the one mark the other, I leave them both, to confer at their next meeting, and commit you to the Almighty. 7369 HENRY FRANCIS LYTE. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE, a British clergyman and poet, born at Kelso, Scotland, June 1, 1793; died at Nice, France, Nov. 20, 1847. He was educated at Trinity College, Dublin. He took orders, held curacies in Ireland, and eventually became rector of Brixton, England. He published several volumes of poetry, mostly of a devotional character. Lyte's first work was "Tales in Verse Illustrative of Several of the Petitions of the Lord's Prayer." In 1834 he published "The Spirit of the Psalms," a collection of hymns and psalms, drawn from various sources, but mainly his own. Among the best known of his hymns are "Abide With Me;" "Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken;" "Praise, my Soul, the King of Heaven;" and "Pleasant Are Thy Courts Above.” His hymn "Abide With Me" was written at Nice, not long before his death. EVENING. SWEET Evening hour! sweet Evening hour! That brings the wild bird to her nest, The infant to its mother's breast. Sweet hour! that bids the laborer cease, That gives the weary team release, That leads them home, and crowns them there — With rest and shelter, food and care. Oh, season of soft sounds and hues, And call the fettered soul above Who has not felt that Evening's hour "ABIDE WITH ME!" ABIDE with me! fast falls the even-tide! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word; Come not in terror, as the King of kings! Thou on my head in early youth didst smile; I need Thy presence every passing hour; What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; |