of great irregularities, while Mrs. Carlton set about
acquitting herself of the duties of a wife, with the most meek and
humble patience, burying her sorrows in her own bosom, and not allowing
herself even the consolation of complaining.

"Among the many reasons for his dislike, her piety was the principal. He
said religion was of no use but to disqualify people for the business of
life; that it taught them to make a merit of despising their duties, and
hating their relations; and that pride, ill-humor, opposition, and
contempt for the rest of the world, were the meat and drink of all those
who pretended to religion.

"At first she nearly sunk under his unkindness; her health declined, and
her spirits failed. In this distress she applied to the only sure refuge
for the unhappy, and took comfort in the consideration that her trials
were appointed, by a merciful Father, to detach her from a world which
she might have loved too fondly, had it not been thus stripped of its
delights.

"When Mrs. Stanley, who was her confidential friend, expressed the
tenderest sympathy in her sufferings, she meekly replied, 'Remember who
are they whose robes are washed white in the kingdom of glory, _it is
they who come out of great tribulation_. I endeavor to strengthen my
faith with a view of what the best Christians have suffered, and my hope
with meditating on the shortness of all suffering. I will confess my
weakness,' added she: 'of the various motives to patience under the
ills of life, which the Bible presents, though my reason and religion
acknowledge them all, there is not one which comes home so powerfully to
my feelings as this--_the time is short_.'

"Another time Mrs. Stanley, who had heard of some recent irregularities
of Carlton, called upon her, and lamenting the solitude to which she was
often left for days together, advised her to have a female friend in the
house, that her mind might not be left to prey upon itself by living so
much alone. She thanked her for the kind suggestion, but said she felt
it was wiser and better not to have a confidential friend always at
hand, 'for of what subject should we talk,' said she, 'but of my
husband's faults? Ought I to allow myself in such a practice? It would
lead me to indulge a habit of complaint which I am laboring to subdue.
The compassion of my friend would only sharpen my feelings, which I wish
to blunt. Giving vent to a flame only makes it rage the more; if
suppressing ca