A SHADOW 231 
thing of the sacredness and dignity of the 
maiden. Coleridge ranks as the purest of 
human emotions that of a husband towards a 
wife who has a baby at her breast, — “a feel- 
ing how free from sensual desire, yet how dif- 
ferent from friendship!” And to the true 
mother, however cultivated, or however igno- 
rant, this period of early parentage is happier 
than all else, in spite of its exhausting cares. 
In that delightful book, the “ Letters” of Mrs. 
Richard Trench,— mother of the well-known 
English writer, —the most agreeable passage 
is perhaps that in which, after looking back 
upon a life spent in the most brilliant society 
of Europe, she gives the palm of happiness to 
the time when she was a young mother. She 
writes to her god-daughter: “I believe it is 
the happiest time of any woman’s life, who has 
affectionate feelings, and is blessed with healthy 
and well-disposed children. I know at least 
that neither the gayeties and boundless hopes 
of early life, nor the more grave pursuits and 
deeper affections of later years, are by any 
means comparable in my recollection with the 
serene, yet lively pleasure of seeing my chil- 
dren playing on the grass, enjoying their little 
temperate supper, or repeating ‘with holy 
look ’* their simple prayers, and undressing for 
bed, growing prettier for every part of their 
