any man who acts under another, serving to compose his family; in which he lives, or is supposed to live, as a chaplain, secretary, &c. Sometimes domestic is applied to the wife and children; but very seldom to servants, such as footmen, lacquers, porters, &c.
adj. is sometimes opposed to foreign. Thus "domestic occurrences" signify those events which happen in our own country, in contradistinction to those of which we receive intelligence from abroad.
In its more usual acceptation, the term implies something peculiar to home or household. Thus we speak of domestic happiness or pleasures: meaning the pleasures enjoyed in the bosom of one's family; in opposition to those found in the bustle of public life, or delusively sought in the haunts of dissipation.
The solace of domestic enjoyments has been coveted by the wisest and greatest of men. Senators and heroes have shut out the acclamations of an applauding world, to enjoy the prattling of their little ones, and to partake the endearments of family conversation. They knew that even their best friends, in the common intercourse of life, were in some degree actuated by interested motives in displaying their affection; that many of their followers applauded them in hopes of reward; and that the giddy multitude, however zealous, were not always judicious in their approbation. But the attentions paid them at their fireside, the smiles which exhilarated their own table, were the genuine result of undiminished love.
To pursue the observations of an elegant essayist:
"The nursery has often alleviated the fatigues of the bar and the senate-house. Nothing contributes more to raise the gently pleasing emotions, than the view of infant innocence, enjoying the raptures of a game at play. All the sentiments of uncontrolled nature display themselves to the view, and furnish matter for agreeable reflection to the mind of the philosophical observer. To partake with children in their little pleasures, is by no means unmanly. It is one of the purest sources of mirth. It has an influence in amending the heart, which necessarily takes a tincture from the company that surrounds us. Innocence as well as guilt is communicated and increased by the contagion of example. And the great Author of evangelical philosophy has taught us to emulate the simplicity of the infantine age. He seems indeed himself to have been delighted with young children, and found in them, what he in vain sought among those who judged themselves their superiors, unpolluted purity of heart.
Among the great variety of pictures which the vivid imagination of Homer has displayed throughout the Iliad, there is not one more pleasing than the family piece, which represents the parting interview between Hector and Andromache. It deeply interests the heart, while it delights the imagination. The hero ceases to be terrible, that he may become amiable. We admire him while he stands completely armed in the field of battle; but we love him more while he is taking off his helmet, that he may not frighten his little boy with its nodding plumes. We are refreshed with the tender scene of domestic love, while all around breathes rage and discord. We are pleased to see the arm, which is shortly to deal death and destruction among a host of foes, employed in caressing an infant son with the embraces of paternal love. A professed critic would attribute the pleasing effect entirely to contrast; but the heart has declared, previously to the inquiries of criticism, that it is chiefly derived from the satisfaction which we naturally take in beholding great characters engaged in tender and amiable employments.
But after all that is said of the purity and the solidity of domestic pleasures, they unfortunately appear, to a great part of mankind, insipid, unmanly, and capable of satisfying none but the weak, the spiritless, the inexperienced, and the effeminate. The pretenders to wit and modern philosophy are often found to renounce the received opinions of prudential conduct; and, while they affect a superior liberality, to regulate their lives by the most selfish principles. Whatever appears to have little tendency to promote personal pleasure and advantage, they leave to be performed by those simple individuals, who are dull enough, as they say, to pursue the journey of life by the straight road of common sense. It is true, they will allow, that the world must be replenished by a perpetual succession; and it is no less true, that an offspring, once introduced into the world, requires all the care of painful attention. But let the talk be referred for meaner spirits. If the passions can be gratified without the painful consequences of supporting a family, they eagerly seize the indulgence. But the toil of education they leave to those whom they deem fools enough to take a pleasure in it. There will always be a sufficient number, say they, whose folly will lead them, for the sake of a silly passion called virtuous love, to engage in a life of perpetual anxiety. The fool's paradise, they add, with derision, will never be deserted.
Presumptuous as are all such pretenders to newly-invented systems of life and conduct, it is not to be supposed they will think themselves superior to Cicero. Yet Cicero, with all his liberality of mind, felt the tenderness of conjugal and paternal attachment, and acknowledged that, at one time, he received no satisfaction in any company but that of his wife, his little daughter, and, to use his own epithet, his honored young Cicero. The great Sir Thomas More, whom nobody will suspect of narrowness of mind, who by a very singular treatise evinced that he was capable of thinking and of choosing for himself, has left it on record that he devoted a great share of his time, from the united motives of duty and delight, to the amusement of his children.
It will be objected by those who pretend to have formed their ideas of life from actual observation, that domestic happiness, however pleasing in description, like many a poetic dream, is but an alluring picture, deluged by a good heart, and painted in glowing colours by a lively fancy. The constant company, they urge, even of those we love, occasions an insipidity. Indolence grows into idleness. Disgust, long continued, fouls the temper. Peevishness is the natural consequence. The domestic circle becomes the scene of dispute. Mutual antipathy is ingenious in devising mutual torment. Sullen silence or malignant remarks fill up every hour, till the arrival of a stranger causes a temporary porary restraint, and excites that good humour which ought to be displayed among those whom the bonds of affection and blood have already united.
"Experience, indeed, proves that these remarks are sometimes verified. But that there is much domestic misery is no argument that there is no domestic happiness, or that the evil may not be removed. Natural stupidity, natural ill temper, acquired ill habits, want of education, illiberal manners, and a neglect of the common rules of discretion, will render every species of intercourse disagreeable. When those are united by connubial ties who were separated by natural and inherent diversity, no wonder if that degree of happiness which can only result from a proper union, is unknown. In the forced alliance, which the poet of Venefium mentions, of the serpent with the dove, of the tyger with the lamb, there can be no love. When we expatiate on the happiness of the domestic groups, we suppose that all who compose it are originally assimilated by affection, and are still kept in union by discreet friendship. Where this is not the case, the censure must fall on the discordant disposition of the parties, and not on the essential nature of family intercourse.
"To form, under the direction of prudence, and by the impulse of virtuous love, an early conjugal attachment, is one of the best securities of virtue, as well as the most probable means of happiness. The duties, which are powerfully called forth by the relations of husband and father, are of that tender kind which inspires goodness and humanity. He who beholds a woman whom he loves, and an helpless infant, looking up to him for support, will not easily be induced to indulge in unbecoming extravagance, or devote himself to indolence. He who has a rising family to introduce into a vicious world, will be cautious of setting a bad example; the contagion of which, when it proceeds from parental authority, must be irresistibly malignant. Thus many who, in their individual and unconnected state, would probably have spent a life not only useless to others, but profligate and careless in itself, have become valuable members of the community, and have arrived at a degree of moral improvement, to which they would not otherwise have attained.
"The contempt in which domestic pleasures have in modern times been held, is a mark of profligacy. It is also a proof of a prevailing ignorance of real enjoyment. It argues a defect in taste and judgment as well as in morals. For the general voice of the experienced has in all ages declared, that the truest happiness is to be found at home."