The Virginian

SATURDAY EVENING—DECEMBER 17.

It is often proper to call ourselves to a strict account for the time past; but particularly so at the close of days, months and years. At the end of the week, when our toils are done, and we may perhaps be seated at the tea table, or by the fire side, with our family around us, and the prattling babes upon our knees, a thousand little nameless comforts, which cluster together in our imaginations, when we hear of Saturday night at home; at such a season, if we are fond of any serious thought, our minds must, in some measure, be taken up with sober reflection. There is something peculiarly solemn in the eve of the Sabbath, in the return of laborers, and the preparation for rest, and the general feeling & engagement. And even where we do not observe the custom of commencing the Saturday evening, yet the Lord's day seems to dawn, and the cessation of cares to betoken something peaceful, and the expectation of approaching solemnities to calm the soul: so that the man must be peculiarly volatile, or peculiarly stupid, who is not, of necessity, thrown out of the common route of his giddy, or high busy thoughts, when the ruddy streaks of the west are beginning to grow dusky, and the week seems falling away. And what are the thoughts which a conscientious person would have, and which of course, we all ought to have, at such a time? A week is past: let my thoughts run through its business; and let conscience pass a faithful sentence. Am I a better man, a better husband, a better wife, a better neighbour, or whatever be my calling, and whatever be the duties which it lays upon me? Am I more satisfied with my conduct than I was the week before? If not, I have lived in vain. What have I done for the good of the neighborhood? what for the public good? How have I been prospered in business: and how have I shown my thankfulness to those around me? Are there no sick or afflicted strangers in my vicinity? If not, is not this the most favored spot under heaven? And if there are, what have I done for their relief? If none, I have been prospering, I am living for myself, a selfish wretch, unworthy the name of a man or Christian. Am I better prepared for dying, than I was last week? And when I look forward, how am I going to spend the next week; and what new plan for improvement have I in view? And how am I about to sanctify the Sabbath? And what can I do for the good of others? — These are, in truth, plain and simple notions; but they are such as often come into the head of a plain man in the country.