She Lives On Her Own Stock
On Possessing the Truest Independence
I take a lot of inspiration from Hannah More, a Regency-era writer and philanthropist. A few years ago I read Karen Swallow Prior's biography of Hannah More called Fierce Convictions.
Despite early success as a poet-playwright, More abandoned more cultured writing in favor of writing tracts and essays about social issues. She worked with William Wilberforce in the English abolition movement, started schools for the poor, and advocated for animal rights.
Fortunately for me, More wrote a clever, very didactic novel called Coelebs in Search of a Wife, which is light on the plot but heavy on her life philosophy. I'd describe it as a series of character sketches and philosophical dialogues, so if you enjoy that sort of thing, you should check it out.
In the novel, she wrote,
“The woman who derives her principles from the Bible, and her amusements from intellectual sources, from the beauties of nature, and from active employment and exercise, will not pant for beholders. She is no clamorous beggar for the extorted alms of admiration. She lives on her own stock. She possesses the truest independence. She does not wait for the opinion of the world, to know if she is right, nor for the applause of the world, to know if she is happy.”
I want to be that woman, to walk confidently through life without needing the opinion or applause of crowds to know my worth.
I want to live on my own stock.
More wrote this ideal knowing how hard it is in practice. A few years' fame among the social and intellectual elites of her day had been enough to show her that she wanted their praise a little too much. Partly because of her humble upbringing in a society that valued birth and wealth - her father was a teacher and her mother a mason’s daughter – More was insecure. She tended to fawn over the celebrities of her day. When she suffered a poor critical review or a false friend’s betrayal, she took months and sometimes years to recover from the blow.
For More, the happiest life was freed from vanity and envy.
Let me repeat her words.
“The woman who derives her principles from the Bible, and her amusements from intellectual sources, from the beauties of nature, and from active employment and exercise, will not pant for beholders. She is no clamorous beggar for the extorted alms of admiration. She lives on her own stock. She possesses the truest independence. She does not wait for the opinion of the world, to know if she is right, nor for the applause of the world, to know if she is happy.”
A few years ago, I unpacked this quote to create my own, brief guide to the good life as More saw it.
1. She derives her principles from the Bible.
In today’s Christianity, the word “principles” might seem a cold and unfeeling way to talk about one’s faith, but More was not blandly talking about finding a few precepts in Scripture. She had a vibrant faith in God, and these principles she sought in the Bible were no less than the creed that informs our souls and directs our lives. Read the Word. See that God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall inherit eternal life. God became man and bore our sins. We are made righteous by His sacrifice.
If this is His love and power, how then shall we live? This is why the Bible, and not a philosopher (however wise), should be the first source of our principles, though it needn’t be the last. The Bible begins with the principle that God loves me enough to sacrifice Himself to save me. Where the philosopher puts my eyes on myself and what I might do, or perhaps on the world and my place in it, the Bible sets my eyes on God and what He did. The first approach tends toward pride, vanity, and insecurity as I try to please man. The other shows me how to care for pleasing God first and last. Beginning in humility at His feet, I need not be a “clamorous beggar for the extorted alms of admiration.”
2. She derives amusements from intellectual sources.
I can delight in books without worrying about what others will think of my choices. I used to worry, will someone think me pretentious for reading Paradise Lost, or a poser for reading Anna Karenina before I’ve read Crime and Punishment? (I haven’t read either yet, by the way.) Is it childish that I prefer Narnia to Dante? Will I be required to give a defense of Descartes the minute I have read him? All of these rather silly fears are relieved when I want to please God more than man.
This also encourages me to consider the worth of what I read. I don’t need to avoid entire genres because I paraphrase Nathaniel’s question about Nazareth, “Can anything good come from science fiction?”; but I should chew each page thoughtfully, considering the value of the style and substance, rather than gulping it down with the excuse that it was only light fiction and not meant to be taken seriously. A light snack can spoil my appetite for a wholesome dinner, so I should try to find books that are worth it.
If I read only the “delicious morsels,” a phrase More used to describe those quotable quotes that we rip out of context to adorn our intellectual mantelpieces, I’ll miss out on all the other things the author had to say. More said,
“In all well-written books, there is much that is good which is not dazzling; and these shallow critics should be taught, that it is for the embellishment of the more tame and uninteresting parts of his work, that the judicious poet commonly reserves those flowers, whose beauty is defaced when they are plucked from the garland into which he has so skillfully woven them.”
quoted in Fierce Convictions
When I read, I should ask, what’s the context? What’s the argument? Quotes out of context can make me forget that all assertions, however eloquent, should be defended, and no aphorism is meant to stand without support. How did the author defend his statement? Am I persuaded? Could the argument be stronger? If it is worthy and true, what does it mean for my life? How should I live?
It also challenges me to look beyond my favored genres, searching for real, intellectual sources even if there is no narrative. Novels are a relatively young form of the written word, so a strict loyalty to them will deny me centuries of wit and wisdom. I should choose more poetry and plays, naturally, but also those compositions which I rarely read without compulsion: essays and treatises. Works of science, philosophy, morality, and politics, especially those written before 1930, are not my chosen diet. They require more chewing and digestion, and I prefer to gobble up books. This preference for narrative does not excuse me, though, and for several years I have added serious non-fiction to my monthly reading, and gradually, it has become less painful! When I choose titles carefully, I enjoy my reading more and make it a larger part of my day. I employ more of my faculties. There’s a part of my brain that lounges until there’s heavy lifting to do, and if I don’t keep her occupied, she develops malaise.
Finally, good, intellectual sources can be an anchor. After reading a great book or listening to a brilliant philosopher, I feel like I've had a conversation with them, almost like I know them. Soon, the standard for my own thinking is elevated to theirs, so that instead of taking seriously the two-cent opinions surrounding me, I remember, "Ha, Chesterton would shoot down that argument in five words, though he would probably take five pages, being Chesterton," and I'm no longer burdened by someone else's bad reasoning.
3. She derives amusements from the beauties of nature, and from active employment and exercise.
Nature was made to be enjoyed, and it’s difficult to love nature’s beauty for more than a passing moment unless you’re actively participating in it. Take walks in the woods. Go for a hike in the mountains. Start a garden and coax flowers and vegetables up into the sunlight. Experience the blend of silent anticipation and momentous action that are fishing and hunting. Sketch what you see. Write songs about it. Even if you can only step aside for a few minutes each morning, it will change your day.
From my own small efforts on our yard and flowerbeds, I’ve learned that it is good to be out in the sun and the wind while trying to improve our little home. A garden helps tame nature, discouraging weeds and encouraging new growth where there had been none. My yard is a lovelier place because I have worked in it. Nature works according to God’s rules and God's waste-not, want-not economy. My hour of weeding and watering is not the sum of my garden's activity. Each plant is working constantly as it stretches toward the sunlight.
Nature pleases without trying. The flower and the oak do not care whether they “blush unseen” or are admired. They merely grow. It’s a lesson that I could learn.
Employment and exercise aren’t limited to my endeavors in nature, of course. They pour out of the intellectual sources and the Biblical principles mentioned earlier. When I read something profound, I should do more than congratulate myself on comprehending its meaning. Write about it. Tie my thoughts down. C.S. Lewis said that writers write to understand their thoughts, not just to share them. Before I write them down, my opinions can be vague, untested little phantoms that I either forget or bring up at awkward times in conversation. Writing tests them out and forces them into coherence and sometimes makes them presentable for public display.
Don’t consume culture without producing for it. Don’t let amusement literally mean a-muse, absence of thought. Employ yourself. Find enjoyment in hours spent at work and home trying to improve — the world, yes — but trying to improve the area and people around you. This is easier if your working hours produce an obvious, positive impact that everyone sees and approves. When you have to spend hours on mundane tasks that seem to waste your talents without visibly helping many people, it’s even more important to keep your minds active and seek ways to actively help others when you’re off the clock.
William Channing Gannett said, "Drudgery is the gray angel of success." Nothing done in service to God will disappear. Unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat.
A final word on those three results of the Fall: cooking, housework and physical exercise. When I view them as tedious requirements, I usually go through the motions or skip them entirely. However, it doesn’t follow that a duty is dull because it is required. When I recall the purposes for them, I can apply myself to them happily and look on the results – a healthy, well-fed family; a clean, organized home; and a flexible, energetic body – with satisfaction.
4. She lives on her own stock. She possesses the truest independence. She does not wait for the opinion of the world, to know if she is right, nor for the applause of the world, to know if she is happy.
I love Hannah More's line about needing the opinion of the world to know if you are right. Most of my past and present misery has come from thinking too much of others’ opinions of me, when really, most of them did not have any opinion of me, good or bad.
I have been guilty of letting popular opinion influence how I form and express my own opinions. Perhaps you can relate. Sometimes I am tempted to adopt a commonly held opinion just because I've heard it a lot; or I am hesitant to express my own opinion because people will tell me I am wrong, or worse, not nice; or I will express my opinion but wait anxiously for the hammer of opposition to fall.
Even on uncontroversial matters, I hesitate to share something I've written for fear that people won't like it. I have thought too highly of some essays I've written, just because they got more views, likes, and comments, and I've undervalued others that didn't get similar attention. If my work passes unseen and unsung, I’m left to wonder, what now? I could begin by thanking God that he answered my prayer, “lead me not into temptation,” and saved me from my vanity.
If I'm living on my own stock, I just won't care as much about the opinions of those whom I don't respect, and I will not try to extort praise from those whom I do respect. I will heed criticism where appropriate, but I just won't have time to curry favor with people. I'll be too busy with worthier pastimes. I have duties to perform, a family to feed, a book to read, a story to write, a garden to tend, and a God to praise.
Thank you for joining me today.