The light that has been diffused in reference to the real nature and properties of beverages once thought indispensable, has had the effect of arousing public attention to social (so called) convivial customs. The habits of society have indeed improved—but a yet further improvement must take place before England can rank as a sober nation, and husbands promote domestic happiness.

Much to be condemned, is a married man, constantly rambling and wandering from his home for the purpose of passing away time. I really cannot understand what a husband, a father, and master of a house, can mean by the words "passing away time." Surely if he wants employment, his family, wife, business, or his house and grounds will amply furnish him with it; and if he wishes for society, he will find in his social circle and books, the best society in the world. Such a man may be at a loss for company, tainly not for society.

but cer

There are some men who will sit an entire day with their wives, and a word scarcely escape their lips. The social cup of tea comes on; and instead of enlivening the hour by kind and familiar chat, a pompous “Yes,” or "No," is perhaps all that is uttered by the

taciturn head of the family. Is this a mode of treating the companion of your bosom?

-a companion with whom you ought to be able fearlessly to "think aloud;" into whose faithful breast you might pour forth your thoughts, your plans, your intentions, your opinions of every thing and every one? And is this companion, (perhaps the only one in the world who would not betray you,) is she to be treated with sullen silence and cold reserve? The heart of her husband may safely trust in her, (Prov. xxxi. 11,) says the inspired writer; and yet this safe and faithful confidant is slighted, and her proud lord turns from her to bestow his frankness and loquacity on some one or other, who just hearkens to him, and then hies away, perhaps to betray him to the next listener. A man acting thus injures himself as much as his wife, by shutting out the sweetest cement of love-confidence. confidence. Well has a

female poet said:

"I bless thee for the noble heart,

The tender and the true,

Where mine hath found the happiest rest
That e'er fond woman knew;

I bless thee, faithful friend and guide,
For my own, my treasured share,
In the mournful secrets of thy soul,

In thy sorrow, in thy prayer.

"I bless thee for kind looks and words,
Shower'd on my path like dew;

For all the love in those deep eyes,

A gladness ever new!

For the voice which ne'er to mine replied

But in kindly tones of cheer;

For every spring of happiness

My soul hath tasted here."

I own I love to see man and wife enjoying the pleasure of a little social walk; and when the tête-à-tête is sweetened by confidential and affectionate conversation, it is, as the wise man observes, a sight beautiful before God and man. But, in general, how reversed is the picture! He saunters out with her, careless, cold, and uninterested; scarcely, during the walk, uttering a word, or, when he does speak, so cold, so inanimate, are his brief remarks! It is a sorrowful matter where the closest ties, instead of binding, gall and irritate-Oh! man, as you value your own happiness, strive on all occasions to win confidence by reposing it-and let your wife find you invariably her most attentive and therefore agreeable companion.

Some men there are (would their number was less!) all cheerfulness, gaiety, and goodhumour, while in the houses of their neighbours; who, as they return home, and knock at their own hall-door, appear to turn round, and say to their harmonious attendants,

cheerfulness and good-humour, "My good friends, I am now about entering my own doors, where I shall probably remain, for a few days, totally destitute of all society but that of my wife and family. Of course, it will be quite unnecessary for me to trouble you again till Monday next, when I am to dine at my friend, Mr. B.'s, with a large party: I know I may be certain of your attendance on that day; till then, good-bye! —shake hands!—good-bye, my two worthy friends;-good-bye!" Then, entering the hall, he puts off his smiles with his coat, and, proceeding, he arrives in the parlour. "Oh dear, such a fire!-Just five o'clock, and no sign of dinner!-Well! what an irregular house!" His wife then pulls the bell, and up comes dinner.-" Why, I thought this beef was to have been roasted? You know I detest boiled beef!—Oh, really, those fowls are quite underdone!"-" Why, surely you might yourself have given some directions!" "Oh! ay, an excuse! Excuses never fail, when there is occasion for them!" Such is the language of this fine manly man; his illhumour and loud-speaking rising in proportion to the silence and gentleness of his wife. Admirable character! again say I; a mausoleum should be erected to your memory!

CHAPTER VI.

ON ABSENCE.

FEW women are insensible to considerate and tender treatment; and I believe the number of those is small indeed who would not recompense it with the most grateful returns. Women are naturally affectionate and confiding; and, in general, there is nothing but austerity of look and distance of behaviour, that can prevent those amiable qualities from being evinced on every occasion. There are, probably, but few men who have not experienced, during the intervals of leisure and reflection, a conviction of this truth. In the hour of absence and of solitude, who has not felt his heart cleaving to the wife of his bosom? who has not been, at some seasons, deeply impressed with a sense of her amiable disposition and demeanour, of her unwearied endeavours to promote and perpetuate his happiness, and of its being his indispensable