will not "wear out" in consequence of carelessness about wet feet and want
of sleep, and over-fatigue, and fancifulness about eating. These things
destroy, not your life, but your nerves and temper, and all that makes
your life a comfort to others; "wearing out" yourself means that you will
wear out others, and require from them much time and nursing and good
temper.

Now, sleep is a most important consideration in such a nervous generation
as ours: every woman ought to have eight hours' sleep, and more if she
needs it, but she should not wake up and then go to sleep again; that
second sleep, which is so pleasant, is the sleep of the sluggard. I would
like to give her "a chamber deaf to noise and blind to light," and never
let her be woke, but she should get up the moment she wakes of her own
accord, or, at most, spend ten minutes in the process of waking.

"_She planteth a vineyard_." I should like my Virtuous Woman to be fond of
gardening, and at all events read in Bacon's Essays how God Almighty first
planted a garden.

"_She strengthened her arms_." This verse makes us fancy the Virtuous
Woman as being unpleasingly strong, but we should guard against being
purposely weak, with an idea of its being pleasing; Thackeray's Amelia is
hardly a good model, and Patient Grizzel did her husband an infinity of
harm!

"_Her candle goeth not out by night_." But the Virtuous Woman must be
self-denying in the matter of sitting up, now that modern life makes so
many more demands upon her brain. You know it is self-indulgence when you
sit up late; you were not bound to be so sociable as all that; you only
hinder yourself and others from proper time for prayer and sleep; if you