# The Clergyman's Wife and Other Sketches/The Love of Excitement

THE LOVE OF EXCITEMENT
deline Arden is but eighteen. Do not judge her too harshly if nerves highly strung, and a temperament at once impressible and impetuous, manifest themselves in contrarious moods, multiform inconsistencies, and a state of unrest that craves incessant excitement. Deprived of that impetus, she sinks down powerless, her energies quenched, her mind a stagnant pool. What wonder that she hails as an angel's touch any hand that "troubles the waters," as those of Bethesda were stirred of old! She hardly asks whether the welcome disturber be a spirit of good or evil; she is rewakened, revivified in the rushing vortex; that is enough.
Her vehement nature constantly demands strong and rapid emotional changes. When her feet are in swift pursuit of some inspiring object, when her veins swell with their leaping current, when her thoughts kindle with flashes of enthusiasm, when her heart is thrilled with acute feeling, called forth by some actual incident, some ideal personation, or evoked from the pages of some highly-wrought ​fiction, then only she seems to herself to exist. Excitement is to her the vital spark, the breath of life. It is a phantom which she chases through every path the demon haunts. She dances after it in the ball-room; she diligently seeks for it in places of public entertainment; she looks for it even in the temple of Love; she hopes to find it in the very church of God. Yes, she will alike desecrate devotion to man and worship for her Creator, by regarding them as sensation mediums. Thus she yields to the fascinations of the "tender passion," not for the sake of love, but of emotion! She indulges in what has aptly been styled "religious dissipation," not for the sake of piety, but of excitement!
And yet, let her pursue the Protean shadow where she will, it treacherously melts from her grasp when found, and leaves her exhausted by the race, depressed by the inevitable re-action, her mental and physical faculties collapsed until new and powerful stimulus rouses them into some fresh activity, alas! only to be followed by equally prostrating results.
Adeline's friends mourn over her short-comings, and, making no allowance for the errors consequent upon her fervent temperament, predict the most frightful fruition from this insatiable passion for excitement. In vain they warn her of the precipice towards which she is hurrying! The very danger heightens her enjoyment! In vain ​they would forcibly restrain her as she rashly presses on; while they contemplate the abyss into which she may be plunged with shuddering horror, she stands upon its brink in reckless exultation!
True, her delirious infatuation is sufficiently alarming; but why not seek a more attainable remedy than that of a miraculous metamorphosis of her whole nature, through menacing counsels and compulsive restrictions!
Her sensibilities are keen, do not strive to blunt them; if you succeed, you will only make her hard and dull, exchanging one evil for another. Rest is distasteful to her; do not force her into repose which produces lethargic stagnation. Monotony stupefies her; do not hope to train her rapid feet into the slow and even round of a humdrum existence. But turn the rushing, bubbling current of her thoughts and acts into a pure channel, where the stream may dance and sparkle still, yet minister to some use. Substitute for the alluring phantom which she now chases, some real and holy shape. Give the needful stimulus to her gasping energies through some engrossing occupation. Excite her interest in doing good—in communicating happiness—in promoting noble objects. If her heart be unvitiated, her very love for excitement may be made to lean to virtue's side—may become a powerful agent in achieving glorious ends.
​Has not this same unsatisfied passion for excitement impelled women into paths as full of benefaction as those consecrated by the hallowing steps of a Florence Nightingale, a Miss Dix, or a Grace Darling? It is not too much to say that we have known instances in which it has produced these happy results; and, were it fitting, we could cite them to vindicate an assertion as true as it is bold.
That very disquiet—that sleepless activity which we condemn in Adeline—is but the curbless impulse of a vigorous spirit to do something, to feel something, to be conscious of its own powers of thought, feeling and action. That ceaseless leaping forward, and leaping upward, which belong to such temperaments is not in itself an evil. The same up-springing, unslumbering motion causes all creation to palpitate, and expand, and fructify.
Let us not then rashly rebuke the restless excitability of an untrained and ardent nature. Let us not say to such a being as Adeline: "You shall forego all these varied excitements for which you yearn—which you seem to need to render your life agreeable—nay, endurable! You shall not partake of amusements which you find so exhilarating. You shall not read books which engross you so entirely. You shall not enjoy the society of those who have such power over your emotions!"
Instead of these admonitions and restrictions, give her wholesome and invigorating, ay, and suf​ficiently stimulating mental nourishment. Do not deny her amusements, but see that they are rational, that they are intellectually or physically profitable. Supply her with books of deep interest, but let their pages be so pure that they can awaken none but holy thoughts, and impart none but high aspirations. Place her in the midst of agreeable associates, but be certain that they are beings. whose influence will aid in moulding and balancing her character. And, above all, furnish her with agreeable employment. Let her exuberant activity expend itself in work! work! work! To such as she, the most aidant and remediant of agents! Lethe and nepenthe combined! Mark, if the result does not prove that this very love of excitement, the curse and destruction of many a richly dowered spirit, can, through wise direction, be made the medium of developing, perfecting, and beautifying a disposition in which it is inherent.