answered:

"I begin to see that there is far more shadow than sunshine in this
world; the night is longer than the day."

"You are too young to realize such solemn things, and should
endeavour to catch all the dew of life that glistens within your
reach; for the withering heat of the noon will come soon enough to
even the most favoured. An erroneous impression has too long
prevailed, that religious fervour, and a cheerful, hopeful, happy
spirit are incompatible; that devoutness manifests itself in a
lugubrious or at least solemn visage, and that a joyous mirthful
temperament is closely allied to 'the world, the flesh, and the
devil.' A more mischievous fallacy never found favour. Innocent
happiness in our hearts is acceptable worship to our God, who has
given us the language of joy, as He gave to birds the power of song.
In the universal canticle which nature sends up to its Creator, shall
humanity, the noblest of the marvellous mechanism, alone be silent?
The innocent joyousness of a pure heart is better than incense swung
in the temples of the Lord."

"Mrs. Mason, I wish to consult you on a subject that has given me
some anxiety. Would you approve of my attending the theatre and
opera? I have never yet gone, because I think neither Mr. Hargrove
nor Mr. Lindsay would have advised me to do so; and I am perplexed
about the matter, for Mr. Palma says that next winter he shall insist
on my seeing the best plays and operas. What ought I to do?"

"If you were a member of any church, which expressly prohibited such
amusements, I should say, do not infringe the rules which you
voluntarily promised to respect and obey; but as yet you have taken
no ecclesiastical vows. Habitual attendance upon such scenes as you
refer to is very apt, I think, to vitiate the healthful tone of one's
thoughts and feelings, but an occasional visit would probably injure
none but very weak minds. Your guardian is, I daresay, a prudent
judicious man, and would be careful in selecting plays that could
offend neither morality nor delicacy. There are many things upon the
stage which are sinful, vicious, and vulgar, but there are hundreds
of books quite as bad and dangerous. As we choose only the best
volumes to read, so be sure to select only pure plays and operas.
'Lear' would teach you the awful results of filial disobedience;
'Merchant of Venice,' the sin of avarice; 'Julius Caesar' that of
unsanctified ambition. There are threads of wisdom, pati