ps almost as harassing; at least,
they equally need a sedative influence, and religion is the anodyne. For
it is religion which, by placing before her a better and more enduring
happiness than this world can offer, reconciles her to temporary
privations; and, by acquainting her with the love of God, leads her to
rest securely upon his providence in present disappointment. It inspires
her with that true content, which not only endures distress, but is
cheerful under it.

Resignation is not, as we are too apt to portray her, beauty bowered in
willows, and bending over a sepulchral urn; neither is she a tragic
queen, pathetic only in her weeds. She is an active, as well as passive
virtue; an habitual, not an occasional sentiment. She should be as
familiar to woman as her daily cross; for acquiescence in the detail of
Providence is as much a duty, as submission to its result; and
equanimity amid domestic irritations equally implies religious
principle, as fortitude under severer trials. It was the remark of one,
who certainly was not disposed to care for trifles, that "it required as
much grace to bear the breaking of a china cup, as any of the graver
distresses of life."

Minor cares are indeed the province of woman; minor annoyances her
burden. Dullness, bad temper, mal-adroitness, are to her the cause of a
thousand petty rubs, which too often spoil the euphony of a silver
voice, and discompose the symmetry of fair features. But the confidence
which reposes on divine affection, and the charity which covers human
frailty, are the only specifics for impatience.

And, if religion is such a blessing in the ordinary trials of life, what
a soothing balm it is in graver sorrows! From these, woman is by no
means exempt; on the contrary, as her susceptibility is great,
afflictions press on her with peculiar heaviness. There is sometimes a
stillness in her grief which argues only its intensity, and it is this
rankling wound which piety alone can heal. Nothing, perhaps, is more
affecting than woman's chastened sorrow. Her ties may be severed, her
fond hopes withered, her young affections blighted, yet peace may be in
her breast, and heaven in her eye. If the business and turmoil of life
brush away the tears of manly sorrows, and scarcely leave time even for
the indulgence of sympathy, woman gathers strength in her solitary
chamber, to encounter and subdue her grief. There she learns to look
her sorrow in the face; there she becom