aily
inspection."

"But mamma, never interferes, never advises,--unless I ask advice."

"No, but she influences; she lives, she looks, she is there; and while
she is there, and while your home is within a stone's throw, the old
spell will be on your husband, on your children, if you have any; you
will feel it in the air; it will constrain, it will sway you, it will
rule your house, it will bring up your children."

"Oh, no! never! never! I never could! I never will! If God should give
me a dear little child, I will not let it grow up in these hateful
ways!"

"Then, Emmy, there will be a constant, still, undefined, but real
friction of your life-power, from the silent grating of your wishes and
feelings on the cold, positive millstone of their opinion; it will be a
life-battle with a quiet, invisible, pervading spirit, who will never
show himself in fair fight, but who will be around you in the very air
you breathe, at your pillow when you lie down and when you rise. There
is so much in these friends of yours noble, wise, severely good,--their
aims are so high, their efficiency so great, their virtues so
many,--that they will act upon you with the force of a conscience,
subduing, drawing, insensibly constraining you into their moulds. They
have stronger wills, stronger natures than yours; and between the two
forces of your own nature and theirs you will be always oscillating, so
that you will never show what you can do, working either in your own way
or yet in theirs: your life will be a failure."

"Oh, Chris, why do you discourage me?"

"I am trying tonic treatment, Emily; I am showing you a real danger; I
am rousing you to flee from it. John is making money fast; there is no
reason why he should always remain buried in this town. Use your
influence as they do,--daily, hourly, constantly,--to predispose him to
take you to another sphere. Do not always shrink and yield; do not
conceal and assimilate and endeavor to persuade him and yourself that
you are happy; do not put the very best face to him on it all; do not
tolerate his relapses daily and hourly into his habitual, cold,
inexpressive manner; and don't lay aside your own little impulsive,
outspoken ways. Respect your own nature, and assert it; woo him, argue
with him; use all a woman's weapons to keep him from falling back into
the old Castle Doubting where he lived till you let him out. Dispute
your mother's hateful dogma, that love is to be taken for grante