ot rise, as it otherwise might do.

But were I personally acquainted with you, and should I perceive an
_honorable_ attachment taking possession of your heart, I should regard
it as a happy circumstance. Life then has an object. The only thing to
be observed is that it be managed with prudence, honor, and good sense.

The case of John Newton is precisely in point. In very early life this
man formed a strong attachment to a lady, under circumstances which did
not permit him to make it known; which was probably well for both
parties. It did not diminish _her_ happiness, so long as she remained
in ignorance on the subject; and in scenes of sorrow, suffering, and
temptation, the hope of one day obtaining her soothed him, and kept him
from performing many dishonorable actions. 'The bare possibility,' he
says, 'of seeing her again, was the only obvious means of restraining
me from the most horrid designs, against myself and others.'

The wish to marry, if _prudently_ indulged, will lead to honest and
persevering exertions to obtain a reasonable income--one which will be
satisfactory to the object of your hopes, as well as to her friends. He
who is determined on living a single life, very naturally contracts his
endeavors to his own narrow personal wants, or else squanders freely,
in the belief that he can always procure enough to support himself.
Indeed it cannot have escaped even the careless observer that in
proportion as an individual relinquishes the idea of matrimony, just in
the same proportion do his mind and feelings contract. On the contrary,
that hope which aims at a beloved partner--a family--a fireside,--will
lead its possessor to activity in all his conduct. It will elicit his
talents, and urge them to their full energy, and probably call in the
aid of economy; a quality so indispensable to every condition of life.
The single consideration, 'What would she think were she now to see
me?' called up by the obtrusion of a favorite image,--how often has it
stimulated a noble mind and heart to deeds which otherwise had never
been performed!

I repeat it, I am aware that this advice is liable to abuse. But what
shall be done? Images of some sort will haunt the mind more or
less--female influence in some shape or other will operate. Is it not
better to give the imagination a virtuous direction than to leave it to
range without control, and without _end_?

I repeat it, nothing is better calculated to preserve a young