Ring forth your gladsome music, ye merry bells, this morn, Hopes, buoyant and inspiring, my onward course beguile, God bless thee, welcome stranger! and grant that thou may'st be Along life's varied journey, a friendly help to me; Enriching me with presents, sent by a Father's hand, MYRA. WHAT WILL THE DRIVER THINK? WHAT will the driver think? "How strange a question!" exclaims a youthful reader, hastily glancing over the page; "it seems a very senseless one; I suppose it has some meaning, but I can't make it out." No, dear reader, I did not expect you would without my aid, but I am quite willing to explain the apparent oddness of my title, In order to do this, I must ask you to listen to the following domestic incident which I will relate to you as I heard it; or rather, the lady in whose family it occurred shall give it you in her own words, as she will tell it more truthfully and graphically than I can. "One morning two visitors called upon us; with the one a lively conversation was commenced, which led to our accompanying them to the gate. Even there, all was not said that was required, and we went with them a short way along the road. The younger lady remarked, that it was not best to go along the road without my bonnet; to which I replied, that I was not apt to take C cold. Presently, her uneasiness manifested itself by an observation, that if our discussion was to be prolonged, we had best at least return within the gate, for there was a carriage coming. I said, 'It is not dusty; the carriage will do us no harm.' 'But,' she expostulated, what will the people in the carriage think when they see you without your bonnet?' I looked at the boys who had followed us, and were observing all that passed. Lewis seemed contracting a part of the young lady's fear of the opinion of the party in the carriage, and took my arm to draw me towards the gate. Seeing this, I stood still, and continued to converse with my friend. What will the people think?' ejaculated the young lady. The next minute, up drove the formidable carriage; it was empty! 'What will the driver think?' exclaimed Charles, in a lamentable voice, which amused both ladies, and so acted as a commentary on my previous conversation with Lewis, about not amusing himself with carpentering, because some persons had laughed at him, that he ran into the open gate of the wood-yard, with a peal of merriment. In the evening, a really pretty wooden box was displayed, and its due meed of praise bestowed on the quiet, but pleased manufacturer. We then renewed our amusement on the grave consequence that might have resulted from any observations made on my going out without the customary bonnet; and, 'What will the driver think?' seems likely to be adopted as a family phrase on all occasions of unnecessary reference to the idle remarks of lookers-on." Now, dear reader, I want you to gather instruction as well as amusement, from this little family sketch. I think it is very probable, that you as well as myself, sometimes feel inclined to yield an unnecessary and injurious deference to the opinions of others. Have you never done certain things, which your conscience refused to justify, just because you had not courage to risk the ridicule which that omission might have occasioned? Have you never refrained from certain actions which you knew to be right, lest somebody, who witnessed their performance, should laugh at you? If you will honestly examine the past, I should not be at all surprised, were you to discover, that your conduct has oftentimes borne no slight resemblance to that of the fashionable young lady, who dreaded the criticisms of the carriage occupants. It is not very pleasant, I grant, to be laughed at. Many asoldier who would face undaunted the enemy's cannon, has shrunk from a sneering word. Still, no one will ever attain real worth of character, who is deterred from an apparently right course of action, by the fear of contemptuous looks, or slighting expressions. Therefore, make up your mind rather to brave an occasional laugh, then to be incessantly trammelled by the idea, "What will people say? what will So-and-So think ?” There is a friend of mine, for instance, who lives in perpetual bondage in this respect. She is so dreadfully afraid of being singular, or of doing anything which might provoke a smile on another's countenance, that she never seems to be at ease, or able to decide about the merest trifles, until she has ascertained the general opinion respecting them. I am frequently amused as well as vexed with her extreme scrupulosity about the sentiments of her neighbours. The other day, she showed me her new winter's bonnet. "Isn't it a sweet thing ?" she said; "it was very expensive, certainly, and I grudged giving the money for it; for we have had many extra expenses through my late illness; but I could not get one like it for less." I admired it as much as I consistently could, for the shape was rather too outre to suit my taste; and I hinted that I did not think it so becoming as the velvet one which she wore last Christmas. "Oh no," she said, "I never looked so well in any bonnet as I did in that; it suited me exactly, both in shape and in colour; and do you know, it really is not much the worse for wear, for I went into mourning before the spring." "Then why not have worn it again ?" I asked, without much reflection. You should have seen her look of astonishment. "Wear a last winter's bonnet!" she exclaimed, "what would people think? How the Grays, and the Johnsons, and the Ellertons would stare at me! No, no, one must dress a little like other folks." "To be sure," I said; "but I should not for a moment hesitate to wear such a nice velvet bonnet as yours." It was, however, useless, I found, to argue the point with her; for she evidently pitied me as much for my want of discernment, as I pitied her for her want of self dependence. She must purchase an article which she could have done without, for fear she should be thought ignorant of the prevailing fashion, or indifferent to it; and yet, I knew at the same time, that her charity purse was very low, and that old, bed-ridden Margaret, only got halfa-crown, instead of her customary five shillings at Christmas. And the Grays, and the Johnsons, she thought so much of; why I am certain, they would not respect her any the more for her new bonnet, even if they noticed it, which is doubtful; and as to the Ellertons, they would be very likely to comment among themselves upon my friend's extravagance, and fondness for the fashion! What will the driver think? Ah, how true is the sentiment couched in this inquiry. In the midst of our anxiety to avoid the ridicule, or fault-finding of that formidable body "the people," it would perhaps surprise, if we only knew how frequently our solicitude is wasted. The truth is, we are not half such important personages to others, as we appear to ourselves; and the events which we take such pains to regulate in harmony with their notions, often pass unnoticed by them. Do resolve, dear reader, that in little things as well as great things, and in great things as well as little things, you will attach more weight to the question, "What is right ?" than to the query, "What will people say." Never sacrifice your own thoughtful judgment, or your adherence to duty, upon the altar of the world's opinion; nor allow yourself to be diverted from any useful purpose by the remarks of idlers, who have neither title nor information that fits them to judge your conduct. How sad it is to meet with so many individuals, whose only test of right and wrong, is neither their own judgment or conscience, nor the law of God, but the opinions of lookers-on! How many promising youths have been lured from the path of rectitude and peace, by the bantering laugh of a gay companion; how many almost-Christians, have been for ever kept back from a manly decision in religion, by the apprehension of a taunt and a sneer! And yet, had they gone boldly forwards, the dreaded taunt and sneer might never have assailed them! Will you listen for a few minutes to a Christian Minister, who will furnish you with an interesting incident from his early life, in illustration of this point? "When I was a young man, I was a clerk in Boston. Two of my room-mates at the boarding-house where I resided, were also clerks, about my own age, which was eighteen. The first Sunday morning, during the three or four long hours that elapsed from getting up to the bell ringing for Church, I felt a secret desire to get a Bible, which my mother had given me, out of my trunk, and read in it. I was very anxious to get my Bible and read; but I was afraid to do so before my companions, who were reading some miscellaneous books. At length, my conscience got the mastery, and I rose up and went to my trunk. I had half raised it, when the thought occurred to me, that it might look like over-sanctity and pharisaical; so I shut my trunk and returned to the window. For twenty minutes I was miserably ill at ease; I felt I was doing wrong. I started a second time for my trunk, and had my hand upon the little Bible, when the fear of being |